Poo Update

I admit that I couldn't resist.  I'm not sure what motivated a whole haircare movement to dub itself the "Low 'Poo Method", because I for one have never referred to my regular hairwashing routine as 'Poo.  No, it's really true.  You won't find me walking down the store aisle wondering aloud, "I wonder where they keep all their 'Poo?"  or thinking, "Geez, that bar was really smokey.  I'd better 'poo my hair before work tomorrow."

All 'Poo aside, I had deeply hesitated attempting any haircare efforts that literally did not involve soap.  If using soap in all its many many wonderful forms means I'm an affiliate of the man, then bring. it. on.  I love soap.  Dish soap.  Dishwasher soap.  Dishwasher soap packets.  Laundry soap.  Organic gardening became more appealing when I learned it could involve Insecticidal Soap.  Take that, non-beneficial insects!  I've got a good cleaning coming your way!

However, I have become increasing dissatisfied with my beloved soap when it comes to hair care.  I tried cheap (older, more tried-true ingredients at times), I've tried fancy (more fancy?), I've tried "all natural" (ingredient list I can, mostly, read).  I've even tried bar soap.  The winner of the soap category?  The bar soap.  My hair had a lot more...shall we say "texture", but it also was clean and my scalp was not launching a full-on resistance.

Aaah, resistance.  It's lead me to be more "eco-friendly" than any other motivation.  So now we come to the crux of the matter.

To 'Poo or not to 'Poo?  I finally decided, maybe, kind of, to try not 'pooing.

My first thought was, "Why haven't any of these other bloggers delved into the blog goldmine of a volcano of foaming low-'poo scalp?"  Apparently, because there is no volcano.  I was very disappointed.  In my book, if I combine baking soda and vinegar on my head, and cast aside all other 'poos be they scented, organic, or made of placenta, then there should be at least a little fizzing.  Foaming.  Mentos/Diet Coke-style explosion in the shower.  It would all be good with me.  But alas, none of that occurred. 

What did occur was: my hair was clean!  Like, "regular shampoo clean".  As in "I've been washing my hair with a combination of conditioner and bar soap for a week and have the afro to prove it so anything I put on my head has a whole mess of funk to deal with" clean.  Clean!  Clean!  Hallelujah!

Also, my blood pressure did not go up.  (I took it the day after unpooing.  Or whatever it's called.)  I read that some individuals may have problems.  And it makes sense.  Your scalp is pretty vascular.  And baking soda is pretty salty.

Medium-Batch Tsoureki / I think I see bubbles

Tsoureki.  My first foray into Greek Cooking.  Which is a lot like Italian Cooking, except it doesn't have basil, because basil was found by St. Somebody around the foot of the cross.  I know that's not very specific.  But, speaking candidly, I don't care what was growing around the foot of the cross.  Especially if it was basil, because basil is delicious, medicinal, and easy to grow.  I can't imagine that Jesus would feel that if basil were growing around his cross that it should be verboten to his beloved people forever. I mean, he made it.  He knows how good it is.  If He had died atop a hill of johnson grass, maybe I would feel differently.

I had heard about these legendary Easter Breads in passing, read about them once or twice (Italians make them too) and finally came across a recipe that sounded so tasty that I could not resist making it for Easter.  I modified it for size because the original made 5-6 loaves.  I mean, when a recipe is so large the author is not clear on how many whole loaves it makes it is too large for my kitchen.  And in addition, the actual yield of the original recipe, based on my experience, is 1000.  Yes.  Possibly 2000.  It's a lot.  My cut-down recipe, which I cannot even honestly call a "small batch", makes one hubcab-sized loaf or, likely, 2-3 normal-sized loaves.  But it was worth it because it is not only great fresh, it is lucious day after day for breakfast slathered in butter and dunked in your hot beverage of choice.  It is rich, and just lightly sweet, with a velvety, almost cakey texture.  I think I need to go make some more, because my hubcab of Easter love didn't last very long.

Medium-Batch Tsoureki

1 package fast-rising yeast
1/2 C. warm water
3-4 C.sifted all-purpose flour
1/2 C. sugar
1 tsp. salt
2 eggs, separated
1/2-1/3 C. milk
1/2 C. butter (one stick, in America)
half a can of sesame seeds
1 TB. vanilla or almond extract (I made mine with vanilla)
Hardboiled and festively dyed eggs for decoration (extremely optional, but attractive)

Mix together the warm water, salt, and sugar in a large bowl.  Add in the yeast and let proof for 5-10 minutes or until seriously foamy.  As in, "froth on beer" foamy, not "I stirred it a little and I think I see bubbles" foamy.  That is not enough foamy.  That amount of foamy could be "yeast is actually dead but faking you out" foamy, otherwise known as "ahahahaha try and burn ME in the oven, your bread will never rise, yeast-hater" foamy.  Stir in 2 egg yolks and 1 egg white.  (The other egg white is for brushing on top later.)  Add in your milk.  Sift your flour and stir it into the yeast micture one cup at a time, mixing it well to make a smooth batter, then, as you continue adding flour, a glossy dough that pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  Turn it out onto a well-floured surface and knead it about 10 minutes, adding in additional flour as necessary to prevent it becoming too sticky.  When you're done, you should have a satiny elastic dough that does not tear easily.  Put it in a well-greased bowl and cover it with plastic wrap (or wet cheesecloth, it works just fine).  Set your dough in a warm place.  (I've had good success with putting the oven on the lowest setting, letting it preheat, then putting in the dough to rise and turning the oven off after I shut the door).  Let it rise until doubled, about 1-1/2 hours.  This will be your longest rising time.  When it's risen, punch it down and let it rise until doubled again (about 45 minutes).  When it's done so, turn it out onto your work surface and cut it into 6 pieces.  Shape each piece into a long snake.  Braid three snakes together, then turn them into a wreath.  Put your wreaths onto your baking sheets.  Tuck the dyed eggs in amongst the sections of braid if you want the eggs in for decoration.  Then, brush each wreath with the egg white and sprinkle sesame seeds all over them until they are basically more sesame seed than bread.  Yum.  Put them in the oven and bake at 350 until golden brown on top and they sound hollow when tapped on the bottom.  I had to tent mine with aluminum foil for the last 15 minutes or so to prevent the crust from scorching, but a rich caramel brown crust is actually pretty tasty, and this bread's texture doesn't result in a tough crust.  Au contraire.  Weap, packaged white bread, weap.  Toothsome crusts come from the home oven now.


 

Slap Your Momma Biscuits

Hello all!  I hope to post some tastylicious recipes for you to enjoy in the next few weeks, reversing the trend of several months, ie "not posting at all ever, like, ever".  To break the fast I bring you:

Slap Your Momma Biscuits

Why are they called this?  I don't know, and I named them.  Let me clarify.  Here in the American South, we have this phrase, "It/They was/were so good, they made/will make I/me/you/everyone on the planet slap your/his/her/their Momma."  Okay.  But, why?  Why is something so tasty or delightful that it makes a person want to hit their mother?  I don't know.  It defies my reason.  By the same logic, a person could say, "Oh my, this train is so on-time it makes me want to fart inappropriately in an elevator!" or "I love my girlfriend so much that I want to ask her to marry me and then put minor body damage on a stranger's car!"  Not that I'm negating the actual offense of mother-slapping.  It's just that the implied offense in the "slap yo momma" phrase is similar to stinky farts or not leaving a note when your shopping cart leaves a scrape.  But, at the end of the day, when someone says "such and such is sooo good, it'll make you want to slap yo momma!" they mean it is THAT good.  SO GOOD.  OH MY HEAVENLY HOSTS THERE ARE ANGELS DANCING ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE.  So let's get down to it.  Just don't slap yo momma.  Or told her you wanted to slap her.  Or she may slap you in a pre-emptive mother slapping strike.

By the way, this is definitely one of those recipes where the technique is actually more important than the list of the ingredients.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

 Slap Your Momma Biscuits

1-1/2 C. SIFTED flour.  IE, sift it into the measuring cup, or sift it and then measure it, but by all means DO NOT measure it and then sift it!

2 TB. shortening or lard
2 TB. soft butter + extra for brushing on the top
1/2 tsp. salt
1-1/2 tsp. single-acting (aluminum-free) or 3/4 tsp. double-acting ("regular") baking powder
1/2 to 3/4 C. buttermilk*

Preheat the oven to 450F.  Combine the sifted flour with the salt and baking powder.  Cut in the shortening and butter until the mixture has a grainy, sandy texture.  If you need more of the fat, add more shortening for crustiness or more butter for tenderness.  Gently mix in the buttermilk until the dough is moist and can be patted into a shape.  Proceed to turn the dough out onto a floured surface and pat it into a shape.  These biscuits are crustiest when you pat the dough 1/2 inch thick and then cut them into rounds with a SHARP biscuit cutter.  They are fluffier if you pinch off the dough into golfball-sized chunks and then softly pat them into a round shape.  Either way, do not overwork the dough!  By "not overworking", I mean that the process should literally process (proh-CESS) like this if you're getting ready to cut out rounds, for example: "Dumdedum, mixing in the buttermilk, dumping it out, pat pat, nudge nudge, a little more patting DONE."  Basically, as soon as you have the dough in a defined shape you've worked it enough.  Otherwise your product will be tough little items useful for sporting practice, or deterring the local racoon from your garden by show of force, but not for eating.  Take it from me, the person who learned how to make pastry before she learned how to make biscuits and paid dearly for it.  Returning to the subject, put your biscuits nestled up to each other with their sides touching on your baking pan or ideally your cast iron skillet, and brush or spread a little pat of butter on each top.  (I just spread it on, but it would be easier I guess if it were melted?)  Then, bake them in your nice hot oven, without peaking (except to look through the glass door with the oven light on, if you are so blessed) for about 10 minutes, or until the tops are golden brown.  If you are not blessed with a glass door and an oven light, wait at least 5 minutes before checking on them.  When they are done, take them out and let them cool off a minute or so before devouring them like hungry animals with lots of butter, honey, jam, gravy, or whatever you like to put on biscuits.  Seriously, they're that good.  They're pretty good leftover too.  So maybe I should rechristen them "Hungry Animal Biscuits."  Naaah.

*You can make your own buttermilk by combining the total volume minus 1-2 TB of milk with 1-2 TB vinegar or lemon juice.  Either option tastes fine.