Gluten-Free on a Shoestring Bakes Bread lays out author Nicole Hunn’s tried-and-true methods for serious gluten-free bread, from sourdough to bagels to pumpernickel. In this excerpt, you’ll find sandwich breads, hoagie rolls, and a foolproof flour mixture. The book is available now on Amazon and at your local bookstore.
Gluten-free bread dough of yore (and by “yore,” I mean just yesterday) was always heavy and slick with moisture, and almost always enriched with some combination of eggs, fats, sugars, butter, and yogurt. There really wasn’t any sort of gluten-free bread that rightly could be described as “lean,” meaning bread without most of those enrichments. The extra moisture was required because many of the gluten-free flours absorbed extra moisture, and the ever-present enrichments added structure, mouthfeel, taste, and, in some cases, more moisture. If you have ever heard gluten-free bread dough described as being similar to cookie dough, then you know exactly what I’m talking about. Can I get an Amen?
“Westernizing a cuisine isn’t all that challenging,” said Jonathon Deutsch, program director of Drexel University’s Center for Hospitality and Sport Management. “You take an ingredient, add a new sauce, and make it your own dish.”
That may be true in theory, but after decades of Asian fusion experiments and attempted innovations, the list of success stories when East meets West is a relatively short one. Asian fusion, after all, is a wide umbrella that includes items such as Cheesecake Factory’s SkinnyLicious® Asian Chicken Salad, California Pizza Kitchen’s Thai Chicken pizza, and Buffalo Wild Wings’ Asian Zing® wings.
Still, nothing seems to extinguish the burning desire of the American chef to bring Asian flavors into mainstream Western dishes. Which is why I recently found myself in a kitchen with a bunch of Drexel culinary students and their professor Mike Traud as they prepared their final projects for the term’s Korean Cuisine class. The assignment was one we all imagine lies behind Subway’s Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki Sandwich: Create a take on a classic Western dish using Korean ingredients. MORE
Sometimes, I swear, all my dad wants is for me to like fish.
The man is a fishing maniac. He subscribes to New Jersey Fisherman magazine and keeps the pages dog-eared. His station wagon always carries his rod and tackle box just in case a spare moment arrives; because of this his vehicle always emulates a strong fishy smell. He loves everything about fish: watching them, catching them, gutting them, cooking them, eating them, trying to get inside their tiny fishy brains. As an professional artist, he even loves drawing them, and fish play a central role in many of his stained-glass window designs. Each Thanksgiving, Dad goes out to cast in the morning, hoping to catch a fresh spread for our table. Even if nothing bites, he’ll pick up some fish from the store to make his annual bouillabaisse. We can always tell though, the years when the additions to the stew are his own. He doles out bowls of thick red stew with special care, encouraging us all to marvel with him at the freshness, and regaling us with the details of exactly how he reeled it in. His pride is palpable.
When I became a vegetarian, my dad was confused. I explained to him what it means, but he still had questions. “You can still eat fish, right?” he implored, and I shook my head, reminding him that I’ve never liked the stuff to begin with. To this he replied, “You never really gave it a chance. Now you can’t even try it.” I’ve been meat-free for almost three years, and a vegan now for almost a year, and still my dad asks. He always asks if I want a piece of fish. MORE