Tag: MADDIE LAKIND

Maddie’s Matzo Ball Ritual

Back home in Illinois, in one town over from mine, centered right dab in the middle of Old Orchard mall, resides my childhood deli, The Bagel. The place hasn’t changed much throughout my lifetime. All of the servers have been there forever and recognize you the instant you walk through the door. A complimentary silver platter of deli pickles and a basket brimming with bagel chips and Kaiser rolls are still presented to you when you sit down at your table. The glass cases at the deli counter house the same array of layer cakes, cookies, and the largest collection of chocolate covered dessert items I’ve ever seen.

The encyclopedic menu hasn’t changed much either, with enough options that you could eat something different everyday for years, and still have more things to try. In spite of all of these options, my selections have remained consistent since I was eight years old: Reuben or turkey club, chopped salad, obligatory side order of French fries, and matzo ball soup.

It was at the Bagel that my love of delis was officially affirmed and, looking back, one of the main reasons I think I was drawn to work at Zingerman’s Delicatessen six years ago. While the food and the people are obviously the hallmarks of any great deli, what I have grown to love about this type of restaurant in general are the rituals that people develop there. It is this subject that’s been at the front of my mind this week with the arrival of Passover, a holiday centered on the observance of rituals.

Throughout my time at Zingerman’s, I’ve developed a long list of my own personal rituals. Of the 100+ sandwiches on the menu, I pretty much always order the #73 (Tarb’s Tenacious Tenure). I like to sit in the same window seat in the Next Door (the second one back from the front door). And I absolutely must have a sesame bagel and cream cheese for breakfast at work on Sundays. Looking back, it makes sense that I’m wired this way because much of my affinity for ritual was harnessed back when I was a kid during weekly visits to the Bagel. I could probably list off an entire page’s worth of traditions from there, but the one that always sticks out to me was eating the matzo ball soup from my lineup of foods mentioned above. Sounds simple enough, right? Wrong. I had a system and always found joy in executing it the same way each and every time.

Served in a very shallow ceramic bowl, the Bagel ladles in enough of their golden chicken broth until it’s just about to overflow. One enormous matzo ball is placed smack in the middle (for visual size reference, think of an orange or an onion), the bowl is centered on a plate for balance, and the whole thing is sent over to the table in the blink of an eye. I remember that my younger self was always amazed by the number of bowls of scalding hot matzo ball soup the waiters would be able to carry at a given time. Granted it was nearly impossible that your bowl of soup would retain all of the broth during the journey to the table, but it was all part of the charm. Whatever escaped, you could just sop up with challah bread later.

After it was set down at the table, I’d always start by methodically skimming the outermost layer off of the entire matzo ball. This part always maintained the fluffiest texture and absorbed lots of the salty chicken broth. Once that portion was completed, I’d start spooning off chunks, which always had a bit more chew to them than the outer layer. After whittling my way down to the tougher core of the matzo ball, I’d switch over to spooning up just the broth until the bowl was emptied. And that’s how it went, every time.

A lot has changed during these past few years, but I’ve always found such solace knowing that places like the Bagel, Zingerman’s, and all the great delis around the country exist. Places where time stands always seems to stand still, where you see the same faces over and over again, where you know the food will hit the spot every time, and where you can take comfort in your rituals. It is this type of place that brings me peace and the type of place I long to find wherever life takes me.

For all of you celebrating Passover and Easter this week, I wish you happy and delicious holidays. Cheers!

– Maddie

Holiday Baking with Maddie LaKind

The month of December brings with it a mixed bag of emotions. Thanksgiving is over—sad. Snow is coming—happy. Temperatures are dropping—nervous! Christmas and Chanukah are nearing—thrilled. And, perhaps most significantly, cookie baking season is officially here—elated!! On that sweet note, Zingerman’s is bursting with ingredients to help turn all of your cookie dreams into a reality. So for all of you eager bakers out there who are gearing up for endless batches of snickerdoodles, thumbprints, linzers, shortbreads and more, here are my top 10 cookie baking essentials this holiday.

1. Heilala Vanilla Products
Is there any ingredient more synonymous with cookie baking than vanilla? It seems to appear in almost every cookie recipe out there, which makes sense given its flavor boosting capabilities and beautiful bittersweet notes. If you’re looking for a way to really amp up your cookie baking skills, its time to talk beans. Vanilla beans that is. Heilala is a family run business started in 2002 by a father daughter team. After being gifted a plot of land in Tonga (a sovereign state of Polynesia), this team spent three years developing, planting, and harvesting vanilla beans. Their product is now sold to chefs and discerning palettes worldwide and is considered by many to be some of the best vanilla in the world. Heilala produces a wide range of vanilla products from extract, powder, paste, and even whole vanilla beans. Try any of them out in your next baked good or specifically these Heilala Vanilla Sugar Drops.

2. Cluizel Cacoa Nibs
Everyone seems to have a chocolate chip cookie recipe in their arsenal. But what about a cacao nib cookie recipe? Cacao nibs are simply a less refined form of chocolate produced by crushing dried/roasted cacao beans. Unlike chocolate chips which have been mixed with sugar, cacao nibs lend a toasty, slightly bitter, coffee-like flavor to pastries. And if you’re going to get your hands on any sort of chocolate this season, Michel Cluizel is the crème de la crème. Based in Normandy, France, Cluizel has been producing beautiful artisanal chocolate since 1948. In addition to maintaining high standards for his actual chocolate products, Cluizel remains firmly committed to preserving direct relationships with all his cacao farmers. Enjoy cacao nibs as a pastry topper or an add-in these Oatmeal Walnut Cocoa Nib Cookies courtesy of the “Joy the Baker” blog.

3. Bourbon Smoked Sugar
Anyone who has delved into the world of holiday baking knows just how much sugar is involved. Specifically, finishing sugars like powdered sugar or sugar in the raw. Just like adding a fancy salt or drizzle of good olive oil to a savory dish, finishing sugars can add that extra something to a cookie, creating fun flavor and textural combinations. For anyone looking for a sophisticated twist on your run of the mill granulated sugar, this bourbon smoked sugar is a must. Produced by Matt Jamie of Bourbon Barrel Foods in Lousiville, KY— the bourbon capital of the US—this sugar comes to life when grainy raw sugar is smoked from staves of old bourbon barrels. This process imparts an intense smoky flavor balanced with caramely, toasty bourbon notes. Try some sprinkled on top of your favorite shortbread or this decadent grown-up Bourbon Salted Toffee from Bourbon Barrel Foods.

4. Mindo Cocoa Powder
If you’re a chocolate fanatic and live in the state of Michigan, then the Mindo chocolate company has probably popped up on your radar a time or two. Founded by two former auto-repair shop workers—Jose Beza and Barbara Wilson—the company maintains a harvesting operation in Ecuador (Jose’s country of origin) and a production facility in Dexter, MI. It is here in Michigan where all of their beans are ground and tempered by hand and then turned into a variety of unique products. While Mindo has a whole collection of delicious treats available for sale, their cocoa powder is the real showstopper. The flavor itself is rich, dark, and slightly acidic. Not only was it ranked one of the best cocoa powders in the country by “Food and Wine” magazine, but it also makes incredible cookies like these chocolate World Peace Cookies from famed baker Dorie Greenspan.

5. Halen Mon Sea Salt
Although you might not know its there, almost every cookie recipe in existence utilizes salt. It is not typically a discernable amount, but just enough to help balance and enhance the prominent flavors. One of my favorite recent trends in baking though takes salting to the next level by sprinkling a light amount of tasty sea salt or fleur de sel on top of the cookie itself. The contrast between sweet and salty is sublime and a fun way to enhance an existing recipe or experiment with a new one. My personal recommendation for finishing salt is Halen Mon Pure White Sea Salt. This now world-renowned company harvests their salt from the seas around the Isle of Anglesey near Wales and, may I say, it is hands down some of the best salt I’ve ever tried. The flavor is clean, bright, and just a tad briny, while the texture is super flaky. Contrasted with a gooey chocolate chip cookie, like these Brown Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies from the “Joy the Baker” blog, it is pure cookie heaven.

6. Epices de Cru Cardamom
One of the newest product lines to come to Zingerman’s this year is the Epices de Cru collection of spices. Based in Montreal, this family run company sources hundreds of spices from around the world and is committed to the highest level of quality they can find. While their entire product line is exceptional, their cardamom pods are an exciting addition to any holiday baking lineup. I know cardamom might not seem like the most obvious spice for holiday baking, but its warm, mild spiciness makes it seem perfectly at home among old standards like nutmeg, clove, allspice, and cinnamon. Epices de Cru procures their cardamom from South India’s Cardamom Hills and sells them whole to be ground at home—ensuring freshness and the best flavor possible in your baked goods. Try this Cardamom out in Dorie Greenspan’s Cardamom Brown Sugar Snickerdoodles for a new twist on an old classic.

7. Echire Butter
Butter. Who doesn’t love luscious, creamy butter? Just like vanilla, salt, and sugar, the quality of the butter you use when baking can make a huge difference in the resulting flavor of you cookies. Two of my personal favorites for cookie baking in particular are Echire Butter and German Butter. Echire butter hails from France and is produced from milk collected from a cooperative of 66 different farms. All of the cows are carefully monitored during grazing in order to ensure a rich flavor and striking golden color in their milk. Once churned, the butter clocks in at 84% butterfat compared to about 80% in your average grocery store butter. The pure, sweet flavor also reigns supreme and is perfect for simple cookies like these Butter Cookies from “Gourmet” magazine.

8. Membrillo
This next ingredient is definitely the odd ball of the list, but here me out. Membrillo is a paste made out of quince (a fruit that falls in the apple/pear family), traditionally paired with Manchego cheese in Spanish cuisine. While it may not seem like your traditional baking ingredient, membrillo’s tartness and mild sweetness makes it perfect for sandwiching between shortbread or filling thumbprint cookies like these Membrillo Thumbprint Cookies from ‘The Kitchn” blog.

9. Crème Fraiche
Crème fraiche found its way into my life fairly recently, but since it has, I’ve become completely hooked. Crème fraiche is simply soured cow’s milk cream that is similar in texture/flavor to sour cream, but with double the butterfat. This means more richness and an even milkier flavor. My favorite variety is produced by Vermont Creamery, a company famous for the exemplary dairy products ranging from cheeses to yogurts and even butters. With its slight acidity, it lends a welcome contrast to heavily sweet ingredients like fruit, or, my personal favorite, chocolate. Give them a whirl in Vermont Creamery’s own True Decadence Brownies for the ultimate holiday sweet fix.

10. Lemon Curd
Besides peanut butter, there are very few products I will willingly eat right out the jar. Lemon curd is an exception to that rule. With its bright, tart flavor and super smooth texture, curd ranks high as one of my perfect desserts, particularly if it is made by Thursday Cottage, which has been producing traditional small batch curds for over sixty years. Based in England, Thursday Cottage uses all natural, locally sourced ingredients for their curd and stirs each batch in a specially designed curd kettle. While delightful on their own, curds are incredibly versatile in baked goods. Try dolloping some into a thumbprint cookie or sandwiching a spoonful between two shortbread cookies like “Gourmet” magazine’s Petite Lemon Curd Cookies.

To all of you bakers and eaters out there, I hope you find inspiration for your own cookie traditions in this tremendous list of products. Cheers and happy holidays!

– Maddie

My Life of Pie

Growing up in a food-centered household, each member of my family carried their own strengths in the kitchen. My mom reigned queen of banana bread, weeknight stir-fry, and Friday night honey chicken. My dad was the designated king of family get-togethers, holiday feasts, and Sunday night themed-dinners. My sister was, and still is, the baking superstar of the bunch, always knowing the exact moment to pull chocolate chip cookies out of the oven or just how much frosting with which to ice a birthday cake. And myself, well I guess you could say I was the floater, dabbling in all of these realms at one point or another.

However, there was one food in particular that was pretty much untouched within the LaKind family. One delectable, warm-my-soul, fill-me-with-more-happiness-than-I-know-what-to-do-with food that I could truly call my “specialty.” And it just so happens to be a food that will be gracing most of our tables at Thanksgiving dinner next week. Drumroll please…it’s PIE!

My love affair with pie developed gradually over the course of many annual summer trips to southwest Michigan and began with a game-changing strawberry rhubarb pie. Having seen the recipe on the Food Network’s website (the Facebook of my teens), and having never attempted a pie in my life, I figured why not? I already seemed to gravitate towards frustrating, labor-intensive cooking projects like homemade donuts, jars of jam, and even a fondant layer cake (yes, I actually attempted this at home and no, it was not my best work). Pie just seemed like the natural next endeavor. I mean they don’t call something “easy as pie” for nothing, right?
Oh Maddie, how very wrong you were.

While a good pie does only require a few key ingredients, what my naïve, amateur baker-self didn’t know at the time was just how many external factors have to be accounted for in order to create a perfect final product. Temperature, speed, elbow grease, and extreme patience are all key players in achieving that famous flaky crust and a well-balanced, well-textured filling (insert your favorite here). My first attempt at strawberry rhubarb pie wasn’t a complete failure by any means. I’m sure it was probably consumed in its entirety within an hour of coming out of the oven. But, looking back, there are so many things I could have done differently.
Lets examine Exhibit A, shall we?

Now, I knew my first attempt would present some roadblocks, but I don’t think I fully grasped the complexities of pie until I started baking it regularly. For the past four or five years, it has become my go-to dish for parties, holidays, and those casual nights when I need a stunning dessert in my life. After what I imagine are probably upwards of forty pies, I think I can say I’m at least beginning to hone my techniques.
So, lets take a look at Exhibit B.

Despite the improvements, what pie has taught me is that nothing is ever perfect. As with life, every pie is an experience, teaching you something you didn’t know beforehand and helping you learn in the process. While I can’t say I didn’t shed some serious tears over all the soggy crusts, loose fillings, under-baking, over-baking, weird lattices, and burnt messes I’ve encountered in this journey, I take pride in persistence and trying to become the best at something you love.

That’s what pie has done for me, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to honor it by indulging in all its pumpkin, pecan, or apple glory this week. So this Thanksgiving, I wish you all wonderful meals, good times with family and friends, and, of course, a sweet slice of your favorite pie at the end of the meal.
For me, it doesn’t get much better than that.

– Maddie

Maddie takes a step forward

This week marks a momentous occasion for me, one that brings with it both excitement and sadness. This week, I will be leaving Zingerman’s deli after more than four years to pursue pastry baking at Zingerman’s Bakehouse. I know its cliché to say, but I can’t believe four years went by so fast.

I started at the deli at the beginning of my sophomore year of college, young, curious, and wildly excited to be a part of the Zingerman’s community. Since that first day, I have been given more opportunities than my wide-eyed 20-year old self could ever have imagined. I blogged, I tasted magical wheels of cheese like Comté and Bayley Hazen Blue, and I served Aziz Ansari a sample of cheese. I made friends who have now become best friends. I participated in Zingerman’s-wide panel discussions. I learned how to professionally taste and assess food. I attended tastings hosted by world-class artisan food producers. I ate more #73 sandwiches than I could have ever thought humanly possible. I wrote schedules, managed shifts, took days worth of sandwich orders, and met the love of my life. I think the only thing I didn’t get to do was meet President Obama (I had the day off!).

In light of this impending move, I’ve been doing a good bit of reflection on my time at the deli and attempting to grasp just how much it has influenced my life. I’m reminded of a quote from The Office, possibly my favorite TV show of all time. In the series finale, one of the main characters, Andy, says, “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.” Andy, you hit the nail on the head. The past four years at the deli were my “good old days,” and the reality of my leaving is very hard to grasp. That little deli on the corner of Kingsley and Detroit St. became my second home and the people in it, my second family. Although, I will still be a part of the Zingerman’s community of businesses, the deli will forever hold a special sandwich-shaped spot in my heart. To all of my managers, supervisors, friends, customers, regulars, mentors, and everyone else in between, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support, your enthusiasm, your inspiration, your advice, and your love. These truly have been the best four years of my life.

In the midst of this big change are some very sweet things, specifically scones, cookies, brownies, pies, and cakes. Ever since I was a toddler, I have had a particular affinity for dessert and sweet things in general—my prerequisite question before a meal was “is it sweet?” So I couldn’t be more thrilled that I will be able to translate this deep love into my new work life at Zingerman’s Bakehouse. During the next two months, I will be helping prepare a smorgasbord of holiday treats, rolling rugelach, scooping cookies, shaping scones, crimping pie crusts, and so much more. And I’ll still be writing every step of the way, so stay tuned for all the buttery details!

– Maddie

 

Maddie LaKind shares her Challah tale

September is finally here, which means Rosh Hashanah—the Jewish New Year—is just around the corner. For as long as I can remember, Rosh has been my favorite Jewish holiday. The fall always feels like the best time to not only reflect on the year that has passed but also look forward and set goals for the future. But if I’m being honest, what excites me more than anything about this holiday is the wonderful food, which runs the gamut from brisket, to roast chicken, kugel, matzo ball soup, apples and honey, chopped liver, beautiful desserts, and my all time favorite, round raisin challah bread. Since Rosh is the holiday for equal parts reflection and eating, I thought I’d take a moment to ask some questions about challah bread, specifically about my various attempts at baking it at home. And who better to ask than the source itself?

Dear Challah,

Why must you torment me so when all I’ve ever shown you is love and adoration? Remember the early days of preschool at Beth Emet synagogue. Every Friday morning we would prepare loaves of your beautiful self to take home for our respective Shabbat dinners. Or how about middle school, when my family discovered a new bakery in town that made the best loaves of Challah we’d ever tasted. You became the star of our household for years to come. Or college when I began work at Zingerman’s Deli and would stare longingly at all of the beautiful varieties of you in the bread box—chocolate chunk, braided, square, seeded, plain. Clearly we have a connection.

So why, Challah, given all of this respect, did you present so many issues when I tried to bake you at home? I’m a patient person with a good sense of intuition in the kitchen, but you were the one project I couldn’t seem to master.

The trouble really began about two years ago, when I prepared a Shabbat dinner for my house of eight college roommates. After four laborious hours dissolving yeast, kneading dough, proofing once, twice, thrice times, braiding, it finally came time for you to bake. The only catch was our busted oven, which meant you had to be taken over to the neighbor’s kitchen. Alas, I lost track of time, arriving too late to retrieve you. Your entire top half a was a matted-black color rather than the intended shiny golden brown. So much time and so much hope shattered in the span of five minutes.

Despite the challenges of my first effort, I didn’t give up. I became determined to attempt you once again, this time during Rosh Hashanah the following September. Using the exact same recipe as before, I methodically went through each step, making sure each of your ingredients was precisely measured and each phase of your growth intensely monitored. But, you weren’t on my side this go-around either. Instead of puffing up into a large woven braid, you rose only a mere ¼ in. or so while baking, and took on the texture of a chewy pretzel rather than a light, fluffy egg bread. Two strikes and my motivation was waning.

But even that couldn’t hold me back from taking you on once again for yet another Shabbat dinner with family. Discouraged by the failed attempts of the first recipe, I tried another this time, one that places your dough form in the refrigerator over night before baking. Intrigued by the new technique, I thought this time would bring only success. Wrong. First mistake in the process: I forgot to add sugar into your dough after kneading in all of the flour. Oops. I figured it couldn’t hurt too much to just add it back into the mixture after the fact. Wrong again. Then the real fun began. For some reason when I placed you in the refrigerator, you decided to flatten out into a pancake and, during baking, didn’t rise an inch. Texturally you were off as well, taking on a bland almost plastic-like consistency hardly reminiscent of true challah at all.

Challah, the phrase fed up doesn’t even begin to cover how you made feel all these times. I was angry, hurt, disappointed, and hungry for a taste of the real deal. That irresistible, buttery, sweet, deep flavor that held so much nostalgia. I decided some time away from you could help turn things around and give me a new perspective on the situation. A year later, I gave the process another go with a brand-spanking-new recipe, and much to my surprise, you turned out absolutely perfect.

After recreating this specific recipe nearly three times over, I finally feel at peace with you. I just wanted to share how you made me feel, and to ask why you had to cause me such distress for so long? Maybe you were trying to teach me something. Maybe you were trying to show me that good things take time. Or maybe you were just trying to tell me that mistakes are important, especially in the kitchen. I guess I’ll never know. Whatever your reasons, I forgive you and thank you for the memories, both good and bad. I look forward to baking you and sharing you with loved ones for years to come.

Much love and bread wishes,

Maddie

Erev Rosh Hashanah is September 24. 
Let Zingerman’s do the cooking this year! Check out the Deli’s Rosh Hashanah Menu for a wonderful selection of tasty treats from Zingerman’s Bakehouse, as well as a savory assortment from Zingerman’s Deli. L’Shanah tovah!

Maddie LaKind shares a cheesy story

People choose to start their mornings in all sorts of ways. Some opt for a cup of coffee and the paper. Some prefer an intense workout. Some even choose to wake up and reflect through writing or meditation. My mornings always start with mozzarella—that is mozzarella making rather than mozzarella eating. Although, I wouldn’t be opposed to the latter.

For nearly as long as I’ve worked in Zingerman’s Deli retail, the preparation of mozzarella has been the primary task on my morning checklist. Each day, between 7:00am and 8:00am, I (or any of the other few who have chosen to embark on the crazy journey of mastering “mozz”) turn a big hunk of curd into individually portioned servings of milky, mildly salty, cheesy goodness.

Just like jam, or pie, or any number of other well loved, but labor-intensive food classics, mozzarella is finicky to say the least. I always think about it like a math problem of sorts: all of the elements—heat, water, time, motion—must come together in just the right ratios to make a successful mozzarella. Some batches of mozzarella might be considered good by many standards, but that’s never really what I’m looking for. I want mozzarella that makes people swoon, that puts even the sweetest, and most succulent heirloom tomatoes to shame, the kind of mozzarella that people actively seek out, that brings them back. This has been my mozz quest since the very beginning.

The mozzarella making process is an inherently simple one. All you are really doing is heating up curd and bringing it together into a giant mass so that you can pull pieces off and shape them into individually portioned balls. Once shaped, the cheese is soaked in a salt-water brine to firm up and add that lovely salty flavor. Sounds easy enough, right? The catch is that you are essentially racing against the clock during this whole process. Either too little, or too much time can lead to a less than ideal mozzarella. Heating the curd too quickly will lead to the excretion of too much milk fat, yielding a dry and chewy texture. And if the curd sits for too long in the hot water, it will simultaneously lose milk fat and melt, creating a slippery mass of curd that ultimately yields a final product that’s too dry. So much for an inherently simple process, huh?

I think what I’ve realized about mozzarella making, as with any art form, is that the entire process is informed by practice, trial, and error. I’m pretty sure you have to make about 30 batches of botched mozzarella before you achieve your ideal desired product. For many people, this sort of process is completely unappealing. Why would you want to invest so much time in something that takes so long to give you something delicious in return? For me, I like the challenge. I like that it’s not always easy. I like that you have to use your senses and intuition to create the best possible mozzarella. I like that I learn something new about the process with every batch I make. And I really can’t complain about tasting mozzarella five days a week!

While my mozzarella mornings aren’t very conventional, for my obsessive foodie self, they are the perfect way to start my day.

– Maddie