{"id":1712,"date":"2005-10-21T02:12:00","date_gmt":"2005-10-21T02:12:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/elitemporaryblog.wordpress.com\/2005\/10\/21\/going-steady"},"modified":"2015-09-24T03:54:14","modified_gmt":"2015-09-24T03:54:14","slug":"going-steady","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/orangette.net\/2005\/10\/going-steady\/","title":{"rendered":"Going steady"},"content":{"rendered":"
Every kitchen has its strong, silent staples. I\u2019ve certainly got my stockpile of oils and vinegars, condiments, rice, pasta, beans, butter, eggs, milk, flours, salts, and sugars, some dusty, some fusty, and all standing as ready proof of my fine Depression-era homemaker<\/a> instincts. But if tomorrow brings a shortage in my stock of champagne vinegar or vermicelli, my kitchen won\u2019t suffer. I can feel plenty satisfied without, say, Dijon mustard or basmati rice. The same cannot be said, however, for another subset of pantry regulars\u2014the standbys that aren\u2019t really staples, but rather steadies<\/em><\/strong>, those with whom I set a daily date. Without my cheese and chocolate<\/strong>, I\u2019d be facing a Great Depression indeed.<\/p>\n As of this writing, my refrigerator contains a block of Grafton two-year cheddar<\/a>, a hunk of Parmigiano Reggiano, another of Sini Fulvi Pecorino<\/a>, the dregs of a piece of five-year Gouda, a half-eaten wedge of Point Reyes Original Blue<\/a>, and a small tub of fresh, hand-dipped ricotta. You won\u2019t find me eating them all at once\u2014greediness is very unbecoming, or so I\u2019m told\u2014but I find that a sliver, or two, or three, is necessary for proper functioning<\/strong>. I was converted to the ways of cheese by a stern but well-meaning French host mother<\/a>, and you know the word on the street: French women don\u2019t get fat,* and by god, dear reader, I too will have my daily cheese. By the same token, my cupboard\u2019s current chocolate lineup includes Chocolove<\/a> 77% \u201cextra strong\u201d dark, Dolfin<\/a> 88% dark, Dolfin milk chocolate with \u201chot masala,\u201d** a blocky bar of Valrhona for baking, and Vosges Haut-Chocolat\u2019s Creole<\/a> and Barcelona<\/a> bars,*** the sexiest of my steady sweets. We end every day together, chocolate and I<\/strong>, and though I harbor no illusions, I think this relationship is really headed somewhere.<\/p>\n But where the magic really happens is in the unlikely meeting of my two pet pantry items. While I can\u2019t recommend a joint mouthful, chocolate and blue cheeses, for example, could be united by a shared affinity for port, and I\u2019d venture to guess that, given the right setting, a chunk of caramelly aged Gouda might welcome a chaser of dark chocolate. And certainly, cream cheese and chocolate<\/a> are no strangers. But the holy union I\u2019m really after, dear patient reader, is a double chocolate cupcake with ricotta, bourbon, and orange zest<\/strong>.<\/p>\n *Thank you, <\/span>tr\u00e8s ch\u00e8re coll\u00e8gue et confidante<\/span><\/a>, for wisdom and girl-talk.<\/a>
Deep brown with cocoa, rich and tender, each fist-sized cake holds a well of creamy ricotta sexed up with bourbon and bitter orange, with a few chocolate chips for good measure. Swirled together, the ricotta and chocolate each make the other something better: the soft dairy richness of the fresh cheese gains depth from dark chocolate, and the chocolate\u2019s sincere, not-too-sweetness borrows intrigue from the boozy ricotta.<\/p>\n<\/a>
With a dozen of these on the counter, the kitchen fills with a complex, almost spicy warmth<\/strong>, enough to make the most well-endowed cabinet of rice and pasta look downright sad. Every kitchen needs its strong, silent staples, yes, but things are so much more interesting when you\u2019re going steady.<\/p>\n
**Thank you, <\/span>Michele<\/span><\/a>, mille fois!
***This stuff is dangerously dreamy, <\/span>mav<\/span><\/a>. Thank you!<\/span><\/p>\n