Spicy-Sweet Barbecue Sauce

Have you ever thought to yourself 'boy, I would like some barbecue sauce, but I wish it was spicy?' No? Then you're not thinking broadly enough.

During an ill-fated attempt at being a vegetarian when I was a teenager, I never really missed meat very much, but whenever I did, I'd just eat some veggies (usually in the form of french fries) smothered in barbecue sauce. It satisfied my cravings for something meat-like and was as close as I could get to the flavour I wanted without breaking my quest for meatlessness.

Anyway, I became quite adept during those years at modifying barbecue sauces and bottles of A-1 to taste the way I wanted them to, and then I'd dump the sauce over my black-bean burgers and imagine I was being healthy. (This was before I knew much about food. Or nutrition. Or cooking. Or... anything, really.) But one of the flavours I like best in barbecue sauce is the spiciness, and it's kind of hard to find in a bottled sauce. NO MORE, though, friends! This barbecue sauce is the perfect blend of sweet, spicy, and smoky, without being too much of any single flavour.

And even if you, like me, live in a place where chili sauce is not available, you can still make this. Thanks to my awesome mother-in-law, who sent me a photo of the ingredient label from a bottle of chili sauce, I was able to come up with a vague approximation made with ingredients even I could get. You can tweak this to be as hot or mild as you want, but I recommend making it as explained below-- it's the perfect summer meal for those long evenings where it doesn't get dark until midnight and you just want to sit on the porch with your friends...

Unless you live in Scotland, where a sudden cold snap has taken the temperature back down into the 15C/60F range. Oh well, I built up my heat threshold as a kid in Florida, so I guess it's about time I lived somewhere cold.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. This barbecue sauce is awesome, but I'm taking off a spoon because it's not intended to be smooth. If you have an immersion blender and can be bothered to do so, I highly recommend blending this until thick and smooth.

The recipe:

Spicy-Sweet Barbecue Sauce

the directions:

Heat oil over medium heat in small pan.
Add onion and saute until tender.
Stir in sriracha, brown sauce or A-1, ketchup, water, corn syrup, vinegar, and worcestershire sauce.
Bring to a boil then reduce heat and simmer 10 minutes.
Let mixture reduce until thick and sticky.
Use on chicken, beef, or pork, brushing on frequently during last stage of cooking.
Serve additional sauce on the side.

Makes 1 ½ cups.

the ingredients:

2 tbsp vegetable oil
¼ c onion, minced or grated as finely as you can
¼ c sriracha
¼ c brown sauce or A-1
½ c ketchup
1/3 c water (or to taste)
¼ c dark corn syrup or black treacle
¼ c vinegar
1 tbsp worcestershire sauce

Single-Rise Rolls

Have you ever noticed how sometimes when you're stressed, the simple act of doing something repetitive and easy can be the best possible therapy, even if it makes you slow down in your productivity?

For me, making these rolls was that therapy yesterday. We're having a great summer over here, but it's a busy one: guests coming to visit, projects to finish, a busy season for both of us at work, an impending holiday in California and Mexico, and Scottish sunshine that just begs us to go outside and spend time in it. After a busy weekend that was full of Checking Things Off My List, Sunday night seemed as good a time as any to stock up on some easy breakfast rolls for the week... and the fact that this is basically just a new rendition of these recipes made me sure I could succeed, even if my mind was elsewhere. Because seriously, is there anything more soothing than the smell of bread baking in your own kitchen? (Ok, ok, maybe laying on the beach with a coconut drink in hand, but I can't do that for another few weeks, so for now, it's baking bread in my Scottish kitchen while I listen to the rain fall).

The best part? Not only did I cross another recipe off the list, but I also ended up with breakfast for the week-- for me AND Judson! And on a week that requires all of my concentration just to keep my head above water, anything that makes my day easier is a win in my book. Paired with apricot jam (my current favourite) and a warm slather of salted Irish butter, these rolls are the perfect accompaniment to your morning coffee or tea, and because they're made in a muffin tin, you don't even have to worry about slicing them up. Like I said, this week in my house, we are all about convenience.

This is a Betty Crocker recipe that comes from a wee pamphlet with a half-dozen versions on it, but I'm not complaining about the lack of originality-- it's kind of nice making something that I know how to do for a change (unlike the total unknowns I seem to fall into often in this project). And even if you aren't experienced with bread or yeasted doughs, this is still an easy one. Plus, you don't even need a mixer or a muffin tin to do this recipe right. The dough mixes easily by hand, and the rolls could just as well be dolloped onto a cookie sheet instead of into a muffin tin. And when it's summer in a flat with no air conditioning, the 50-minute rise time flies by, so seriously, why are you not in the kitchen yet?

These rolls will impress you with their simplicity, and since they don't last long (no preservatives in homemade goodies!), you'll be happy you ate an innumerable amount on the day you made them. But if a dozen rolls is too much for you (are we even friends?), it's an easy recipe to cut in half-- just scramble the egg lightly and scoop out two tablespoons of it to divide it in half.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. These rolls are delicious, easy, and cheap. You probably already have nearly all of the ingredients in your pantry. But I'm knocking off a spoon because the dough is really sticky and hard to handle, so if you're not careful, it's easy to add too much flour and render them pretty dry.

The Recipe:

Single-Rise Rolls

The directions:

Grease 12 muffin cups.
In large bowl, dissolve yeast in hot water.
Add 1 1/3 c flour and all remaining ingredients.
Stir until only pea-sized lumps remain, about 15 seconds or so.
Stir in remaining flour thoroughly, scraping sides of bowl until mixture is almost smooth (as my mom taught me, you want a few lumps to remain or the rolls won't rise).
Batter will be very sticky, so avoid going at it with your hands; instead, use a large spoon to scoop heaping spoonfuls into the greased muffin tin, then smooth out the tops of each portion.
Let rise in warm place (aka anywhere in my apartment) for 50 minutes.
Batter will rise slightly but not double.
Heat oven to 176C/350F, then bake 20 minutes or until golden brown and firm on top.
Immediately remove from pan and serve warm.

the ingredients:

2 ¼ tbsp active dry yeast
¼ c hottest tap water
2 1/3 c flour, divided
2 tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
¼ tsp baking soda
1 c sour cream*
1 egg

 

*The recipe actually calls for 'dairy sour cream,' as if there were any other kind. But the more I think about it, the more I want to know if there is another kind, because if so, gross.

Seven Layer Salad

Recently I was having a conversation with some friends about strange things to eat-- we were exchanging meal recipes from our childhood that our parents forced us into (scrambled eggs with ketchup), things our friends ate that boggled our minds (Eggo waffles with maple syrup and ketchup), and things we had read that just sounded terrible (lots of things from this blog, and anything involving canned pineapple).

Overall, though, the running theme of the conversation was mayonnaise in all its possible iterations with no distinction to be made between mayo, Miracle Whip, and 'salad dressing,' a term I never heard until I moved to Kentucky and even then didn't really understand. Let's be real: use of the phrase 'salad dressing' to apply to something mayo-like is up there with 'relish' vs. 'pickle relish' on the list of Kentuckian concepts I don't understand.

I wish I liked mayonnaise, really I do. It would be nice not to have to avoid it on sandwiches every time I go out to lunch. I don't care that continental Europeans eat mayo on their french fries, I don't care that it's the main component of tartar sauce (more on that later), and I definitely don't care that there seems to be a difference, technically, between mayonnaise and Miracle Whip. I don't like it and nothing will change my mind. The weirdest part about all of this, though, is that we realised, over the course of our conversation, that all of the strangest recipes we know of are only weird because of the condiments involved... and usually, that condiment is mayonnaise. Peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches, crushed pineapple and mayonnaise on white bread, and of course the mayo-slicked strangeness of Coronation Chicken salad, almost everything we could think of was mayonnaise related.

So, because I can't ever leave well enough alone, I started to analyse what it is that makes mayonnaise so terrifically off-putting. So I listed the ingredients to myself and suddenly I realised: all of the ingredients of mayonnaise are in an average cake. If you added cocoa powder and flour and baked a jar of mayo, you'd come out with a chocolate cake! (By all likelihood, a terrible one, but a cake nonetheless). I mean, think about it: eggs, lemon juice or another acid, and oil. It's all the ingredients you add to a box of cake mix to make brownies! I'm not sure what this means, but I'm sure I've stumbled upon something, because seriously, eww.

Now don't worry, I'm not asking you to make a mayonnaise cake... yet. But I made my own rules for this blog, so I have no one to blame but myself when things go awry, and go awry they did when it came time for this salad. Luckily, I don't have a trifle dish (but I'm excusing myself since I know for a fact that Eleanor didn't have one either), and if I did, I don't think I would deign to defile it with this mayo monstrosity. Even more luckily (for you), I've tweaked the recipe below to make it less terrible and indeed, more delicious. But I'll forgive you if you don't rush right out and make it, seeing as it's more or less just 'house salad.'

Scotland's been hit by a heat wave of epic proportions this week, though-- yesterday was the hottest July 1st Britain has ever seen, and in a country where air-conditioning is considered an innovation that causes head colds, we're powering through 24 hours a day of mid-20s (Celsius) temperatures.

It's seriously amazing. So if you, too, are in the midst of a summer heatwave-- or you just need something healthy to pair with all the flag cake you're going to eat this weekend-- make this salad and enjoy it. I promise, tweaked as below, it's pretty delicious. Plus, it's an easy tweak to make it vegetarian (or vegan!) and still get all the flavour from the great veggies that are all in season this time of year.

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. This is delicious, light, and healthy and I highly recommend it. But I have a hard time giving more than three stars to a recipe I have been making (unknowingly) since I first learned how to salad. 

The recipe:

Seven Layer Salad

the directions:

In large serving bowl, layer lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms, peas, cheese, and onions.
Place dollop of mayo in the centre of the top layer.
Chill for 20 minutes, then serve with salad dressing of your choice on the side (the mayo will make any vinaigrette into a slightly creamier, less tangy dressing, instead of being the only flavour in the salad).

Yields 2 large dinner salads, or 4 petite side salads.

the ingredients:

2 little gem lettuces, shredded
1 handful smallest tomatoes
1 c sliced mushrooms
8 oz frozen peas, thawed and drained
Sprinkle of sharp cheddar cheese
1 small red onion, sliced thinly
1 heaping spoonful mayonnaise or Miracle Whip
Salad dressing of your choice (we used balsamic vinegar with honey)