Ninecooks

Let them eat cakes

For the very first time, The #1 Cooking Group ate dessert first.

Well, okay, we didn't exactly eat it, but we tasted....

and we tasted...

and we tasted...

(How could we not taste? See our role model in the painting? She's licking the spoon, too!)

As a rule, we haven't done much baking in Ninecooks group cooking, because we plan to cook and eat, and clean the kitchen, within three hours. However, the #1 group meets on weekends, so we have a bit more time for the actual cooking. And Mary, whom we all ask to bake our birthday cakes, volunteered to teach us how to make a basic cake, and to tweak the recipe ever so slightly to create a delicious variation.

We started with a Light Chocolate Cake, made with Dutch cocoa and a touch of cognac. Half of the group worked on that recipe while, at the same time, the others converted the recipe to a spice cake, by replacing the cocoa with cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves (and an extra third of a cup of cake flour).

Though both cakes could be baked in a tube pan, we opted to make them layer cakes, in part because the cakes themselves would bake more quickly...but really because we figured out that we'd be able to use more frosting.

For the frosting recipes, we turned to the King Arthur Flour Bakers Companion and used their recipes for Easy Buttercream (for the spice cake), and Easy Chocolate Buttercream (for the light chocolate cake). We made both frostings while the cakes cooled, and observed that the white buttercream stayed more moist, while the chocolate one needed to be loosened a bit (with a touch of brandy, which seemed to do the trick). Our guess? The white frosting contained some vegetable shortening, the chocolate one only butter.

After the frosting, we decorated simply with nasturtiums from the garden.

The rest of our dinner came together quickly: grilled salmon and haddock with peach and tomato salsa; grilled squash from Cathy's garden; salad greens and feta from Glocester Greens and Goats, with pears from my trees; corn on the cob; and grilled garlic bread.

It was all prelude, however, to the cakes. Both light and delicious, both beautiful. Both gone!

It was warm enough to enjoy our meal on the porch — a real treat before Fall really settles in. And for the #1 Cooking Group, Fall promises to be fun; two more members of this group have offered to lead our next cooking sessions. Look for Jessica's Korean barbecue and Jennifer's Mardi Gras/cajun menus in the months ahead as we continue our fifth year of cooking together.

Another opening, another show

Only one more day until the start of the Fall season for all Ninecooks cooking groups.

First up, the Family Cooking Group takes on pasta sauces. Then The #1 Cooking Group takes the cake — well, two cakes, actually. Next, our World Cuisines Cooking Group travels to Senegal for a taste of West African cooking. And the Wednesday Lunch Group travels to the local farmstand for a supply of butternut squash, the key ingredient in two potluck vegetarian stew dishes.

Two weeks prior to cooking day, each group receives a shopping list, parcelled out so everyone brings a share of the groceries. I've stocked the pantry with spices, flours, sugar and salt. The herb garden still promises plenty of fresh herbs, though the cold snap may do in the basil. The knives are sharp and the stove's got gas.

So, let's get cooking!

And now, for the tweaking...

In May or June each year, the Ninecooks cooking groups and I play calendar bingo. Finding dates when all, or most, of the group members can gather is challenging, especially with four groups and a total of 40 calendars to sync, but just like the National Football League, we've done it. We'll be back in the kitchen starting in mid-September.

Before I propose menus for our upcoming group cooking dates, I'm reviewing the responses to a brief questionnaire I sent out in the Spring to the two longest-running groups, The #1 Cooking Group and the Wednesday Lunch Group (1-1/2 years), to get a sense of what's working, and what could work better.

Are our menus enjoyable? Too much or too little cooking? Too much or too little learning?

Too much or too little chicken???

(Okay, I know the answer to that one!)

The #1 folks — the original nine cooks — have been cooking together, every 4-6 weeks, for four years. Unlike any of the other Ninecooks groups, most of the #1 Group were friends before we started cooking together; my husband and I were the new kids on the block, and cooking was a wonderful way to get to know people in this geographically spread-out community.

Friendship and familiarity make for a family-like atmosphere in the kitchen, with many lively conversations going on (the continuing tales of local library boards and our arts organization, plus the usual catching-up on family news and work, and, truth be told, the occasional bit of gossip) as the cooking gets done. Sometimes we're busy up until, and beyond, the moment when our spouses arrive to help with the eating. Other times, we're more leisurely. And when I haven't planned the menu well, we have too much waiting-around time.

So, overall, how are we doing?

And, what might we do differently in the coming year?

Here's what The #1 Cooking Group had to say....

1. We'll be cooking slightly less frequently, every 5-8 weeks. This has a bit to do with my own schedule and the difficulty in finding available cooking dates, but a few people do welcome the less frequent commitment.

2. Most everyone appreciates the mix of menus and skills learned. Several feel that we do too much: "I can't get my hands into the pot." Most would prefer fewer variations on a theme (ah, yes, too many tamales!). Generally our cooking sessions focus on mastering a skill, technique, or ingredient, but a few people said they'd rather create entire meals (main course, salad, dessert) — more like a dinner party, I guess. Some would like to concentrate on just one dish each time, like the time we spent all day shopping for fish and making Toulouse-Lautrec's bouillabaisse. (That was a fun thing to do.)

3. When asked about particular skills they'd like to learn or improve, almost everyone mentioned knife skills. Also deboning (not my forté, so we'll need a guest chef), and soup/stock making. I say yes to all that.

4. Several people requested more Asian and Latin cooking. I'm all for it. One asked for less cumin. (No. Sorry.)

5. To my surprise, a few expressed interest in "fast" cooking, or dishes that can be cooked ahead and frozen, plus ways to use more convenience foods (good quality store-bought sauces, for example). I'm more of a slow-food gal, so I'm not sure I'm the one to organize this. How about making our own sauces that can go into the freezer and become the basis for homemade fast food?

6. People like getting information about food sources, new or specialized ingredients (and sampling those ingredients), and local markets.

7. In the past, we've taken one field trip each year, to a local ethnic or specialty market, and then returned to the kitchen to cook with what we purchase. Most people enjoy this, but do not want to substitute field trips for cooking sessions. (When I tell them about the Indian spice market I'd like to visit, they might change their minds.) Some people prefer exploring markets on their own.

8. Most everyone enjoys having guest chefs, but all said they would not want guest instructors more frequently than we now have them (once or twice a year). We've been fortunate to get some wonderful chefs come to teach us cool stuff, like how to make mozzarella and flatbreads, but the group seems to like my way of teaching, too. Isn't that nice?

9. Though all are better cooks than I am, when asked if they would like to teach our cooking sessions, most answered, emphatically, "No!" Four are willing to teach all or part of a menu; Korean cooking and scratch cakes, specifically, were mentioned.

There you have it.

All in all, we're a pretty happy group, but some tweaking is in order. That's the fun of cooking groups — like the food we cook, the groups are organic, growing and adjusting according to the changing interests of the participants. My role as den mother is to try and find ways to make our cooking group experience enjoyable for everyone, so here are my ideas for The #1 Cooking Group:

1. Create full-meal menus. Instead of focusing on one technique or ingredient, we'll make a complete meal each time. Sometimes the star of the show will be the entreé, other times the dessert, or maybe a side dish with a fun new ingredient. This will mean that most of the time we'll make only three or four dishes, which simplifies the grocery shopping. And the "whole meal" approach will appeal to those who like to look at individual recipes in the context of an entire menu.

*Note: After they're road tested by our cooking groups, many of our group cooking menus are available on the Ninecooks website.

2. Divide our cooking time. The first 1-1/2 hours of cooking time will be the "lesson"; the final hour will be devoted to assembling the dishes that complete the meal (salad, sides, fruit desserts, etc.). In that way, those who already know how to make the dishes we're highlighting, or simply aren't interested in the lesson part on that day, can still enjoy the camaraderie of cooking together, and those who are more interested in learning about the techniques, ingredients, or process can come at the start. (For you #1s, that means "lesson" at 4:00, assembly at 5:30, eaters at 6:30.) The planning will be a challenge for me, because I'll have to work out the cooking order ahead of time, but I'm willing to give it a try.

That's the other thing about cooking groups. We'll try anything! If our kitchen experiments, menu plans and improvisations work, great. If not, we giggle, and move on.

If you're in a Ninecooks group, please share your suggestions and feedback. And if you're part of a cooking group in your own community, let us know how you get together and cook with friends.

Le Grand Aioli 2006

It takes a village to eat as much garlic as The #1 Cooking Group ate last night at our annual Grand Aioli.

Three entire heads of garlic gave their life so we could enjoy one amazing dinner: a rich garlic-laden aioli sauce, ground by hand in mortars and pestles by the women of our village, and platters of fish and shellfish, chicken, vegetables and olives cooked and assembled by the men of our village.

We had it all, and it was grand indeed.

Le Grand Aioli is the annual celebration of the original nine cooks, a group of men and women that has been cooking, learning and laughing together for four years. Last summer we decided to mark the anniversary with a feast in the Provencal style.

Most of the time when we cook (every 5-7 weeks), it's the women who take over the kitchen; the men come later in the evening, to eat and wash the dishes. At Le Grand Aioli, the men get their chance to cook together, and the women arrive later to grind the aioli and set the long table on the porch.

In the best of village traditions, our menu doesn't change much from year to year. Here's what we make, with contributions from our gardens and the local farmers' markets:

• Roasted scrod, cod or halibut
• Grilled salmon
• Cold boiled shrimp
• Mussels steamed in white wine, shallots and herbs
• Grilled chicken breast
• Roasted new potatoes with fennel and zucchini
• Sautéed artichoke hearts
• Steamed broccoli
• Grilled red, yellow and orange peppers
• Chickpeas, cooked with garlic and herbs
• Sautéd green beans or haricot verts
• Grilled asparagus
• Raw carrots, cucumbers and tomatoes, with lemon vinaigrette
• Grilled sliced baguettes, brushed with olive oil and garlic (yes, more garlic!)
• Olives — of course!

All of these goodies are dipped into our amazing hand-ground aioli, a mayonnaise made with farm eggs, coarse Portuguese sea salt, a whole head of garlic, and the best olive oil. We've tried several recipes for the aioli (including one made in a food processor with saffron and a touch of sugar), but the one we like best is this olive-oil stained version:

AIOLI

1 head garlic, cloves separated, peeled and slightly crushed
2 egg yolks (at room temperature)
pinch coarse sea salt
2 cups olive oil (at room temperature)
1-2 teaspoons water

In a heavy stone mortar and pestle, pound the garlic and salt together into a paste. Add egg yolks and stir until they are light in color. Slowly, drop by drop, begin to incorporate the olive oil, turning the pestle constantly. As the mixture begins to thicken, add the oil a little faster, always turning the pestle. When it is quite thick, add the water to loosen it. Continue mixing until the oil is completely mixed in. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.

It takes 45 minutes or more to make the aioli by hand, which means all of the women take a turn with the pestle. It's a leisurely process that encourages conversation, laughter, tasting, drinking, singing — and sometimes dancing!

The reward is a feast of Provencal proportions, enjoyed on the Ninecooks porch at a long table, under candle chandeliers. Bottles of wine and Perrier, and a music mix designed by Ted especially for Le Grand Aioli, created the perfect atmosphere, and the weather cooled just enough to remind us of a summer evening in Provence.

It was a perfect end to our fourth year of cooking together. We missed Jessica and Bart, who at the last minute could not be there, but in all other respects Le Grand Aioli was...well...grand.

Prelude to a fête

The #1 Cooking Group celebrates four years of kitchen camraderie next week, with a traditional fête. Well, maybe not totally traditional, but we've taken inspiration from the villages of Provence, where whole towns come together to celebrate the various saints of the villages.

The idea of our Grand Aioli was born of the desire to give the men in our group an opportunity to cook together and to experience the fun, the sense of accomplishment, and...yes...the bonding that characterizes Ninecooks group cooking. Most in our regular cooking group are women; their spouses come to eat and wash the dishes while the cooks relax after the meal.

Once a year, however, the men take over the kitchen, grilling fish and chicken, steaming shellfish, sautéeing beans and roasting vegetables (some from our own gardens), while the women make aioli sauce in the old way, with a mortar and pestle. It's a slow process, so all of the women take turns grinding the salt and garlic, incorporating the egg and olive oil a little bit at a time, emulsifying the aioli into a thick, glossy garlic mayonnaise.

What’s a grand aioli? Nothing more than a giant potluck, really. Aioli (from the words ail – garlic – and oli, the Provencal word for oil) is both the sauce, and the celebration.

Fishermen bring their catch; farmers contribute potatoes and vegetables, lamb and chicken. The village baker brings some baguettes. Some common additions in Provence would include chick peas, salt cod, octopus or squid. (Instead of salt cod, we’ll use fresh cod or halibut.) We'll use herbs and vegetables from our own gardens. The point is to celebrate locally available products, and add whatever you enjoy.

Nobel-price winning poet Frederic Mistral wrote: “Aioli concentrates in its very essence the warmth, the force, the sunny happiness of Provence, but it also has another virtue: it keeps away flies. Those who don’t like it, whose stomachs turn at the thought of our oil, won’t come buzzing around us. There will be just the family. The aioli goes to one’s head, gives the body warmth, and bathes the soul with enthusiasm.”

That's our plan.