The Big Kahuna

5 Comments July 7, 2023 les gura

Retailers thrive on the impulse purchase. Heck, whole displays are set up with the purpose of getting folks to buy things they hadn’t had on their shopping list. Come to think of it, who even still uses a shopping list? My rule as I approach 64 is this: three items or less commit to memory, four or more write on the iPhone notes app, 10 or more make a printout. But I digress.

On a recent Saturday afternoon, while Terrie was doing some pre-cooking, pre-prep for the amazing strawberry daiquiri cake to come the next day, she realized she really didn’t have enough granulated sugar. I was dispatched to the local Food Lion—a hop, skip and jump from our house—to fetch some, and, because Terrie also had a fresh loaf of bread in the works, some of this new cracked pepper turkey we’ve discovered at “The Lion,” a market we’ve been hearing good things about. Which is an inside joke about something my late mother used to say that is a much longer story. Oops, I digress again.

Now, getting a bag of sugar for Terrie isn’t easy. It’s not going to be Domino’s or Dixie Crystals or even the Food Lion brand, no matter how many good things we’ve been hearing. Got to be fair trade and organic, third-party labels and all. I eventually found a container of her preferred sugar squirreled away on the top shelf, hidden from the big 5-pound bags. As for the cold cuts, the man at the deli found the cracked pepper turkey. He couldn’t find the cracked pepper ham I wanted, so I switched gears after seeing a nice looking hunk of roast beef in the drawer. Now, this was, no doubt, a nitrite-injected slab of roast beef, but every once in a while, I try to sneak one past the queen of Comfort du Jour. More important, in the part of the deli where they pre-package their own stuff, I saw some sliced American cheese, another product we rarely get unless we are planning some melty cheese thing, say, queso fundido.

If you’d been watching me that afternoon as I waited for the deli dude to figure out how to bag the roast beef (it truly took him an inordinate amount of time to do this seemingly simple task), you might have seen an old-school incandescent light bulb (40 watts, it was only a dim bulb idea, not one of those brilliant, three-way 150-watters) going off over my head.

Terrie is always trying to reproduce some of the favorite things we discover in restaurants. And, of course, her versions inevitably turn out way better than the original. I’m talking spinach Maria from Ke’e Grille, I’m talking PF Chang-style lettuce wraps, I’m talking hot Italian sausage and cherry pepper pizza from Modern Apizza (OK, this one isn’t way better, but it’s just as good!).

So what did I want to do for my first “copycat” meal to be posted on Terrie’s blog? Why, the Big Kahuna from Jersey Mike’s. Because, well, why not? Terrie made a deep-dish pizza inspired by the Big Kahuna, but never the sandwich itself. The Big Kahuna has long been one of our two or three “go to” options when we just can’t figure out or don’t have time to make dinner. It’s unusual because we really aren’t fast-food people. But something about the combination of Philly cheesesteak topped with mushrooms, onions, peppers and jalapenos (and we usually ask for extra jalapenos) hits us both just right. That afternoon in Food Lion, I could envision the sandwich to come. I didn’t get the chance right away and I didn’t tell Terrie about my semi-brilliant idea. But a few days later, when I called to check in on my ride home, I pounced when there was not a firm dinner plan. “I’ll take care of it. I just have to pick one thing up from the Lion.”

It all came together very quickly. And you know what? It’s better than Jersey Mike’s. If I do say so myself.

Behold the Big Kahuna!

I started by sautéing onions and bells peppers, just til they were soft, and then I pushed them aside and added mushrooms to the skillet. When they started to brown, I pushed the mixture aside again and tossed the hot peppers in to heat them through.

While that was working, I spread a thin layer of mayo on each cut side of the bread and laid them on our stove-top griddle. When the inside was nicely browned, I flipped it onto the back side to give it some crisp.

The roast beef slices didn’t take long to brown and heat through. I arranged them in a long, narrow oval to match the bread shape, then laid the American cheese in strips across the top to melt it.

I used a long spatula to move the roast beef and cheese together onto one half of the bread, then laid the vegetables on the other half so they were fairly evenly dispersed, then cut that baby in half and called Terrie to the table.

The Big Kahuna

Servings: 1 giant sandwich
Prep Time: 5 Minutes
Cook Time: 20 Minutes
Difficulty: Average
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My jalapeño-loving husband has taken over the kitchen, recreating one of our favorite take-out foods at home! His version of this Jersey Mike's standard was fresher, hotter and better than the ones we can buy!

Ingredients

1/2 medium onion, sliced
4-5 good size mushrooms, washed and sliced
1/2 bell pepper, sliced into strips (I used green, but red works, too)
1/4 to 1/2 cup of jalapeño or cherry peppers (or if you like it spicy, as we do, both)
4 slices white American cheese
1/2 pound of sliced deli roast beef, cut into smaller pieces
1 French bread loaf (I used something called a “twin French loaf bread,” which was narrower than typical loaf and more like Jersey Mike’s style), sliced in half but not all the way through
Mayonnaise
Salt and pepper
Olive oil

Directions

Heat a medium skillet with about a tablespoon of olive oil. Sauté onions and pepper until translucent. Push aside and add mushrooms until they begin to brown. Add jalapeños/cherry peppers and cook until all are softened and heated through. Set aside.
Slice the bread in half but not all the way through. Spread a thin layer of mayo on each half of the bread and lay in another skillet or stovetop griddle if you have one, lay the bread flat until it is nicely browned, then flip over to lightly crisp the top. Set aside.
Brown the roast beef slices (it won’t take long), then arrange them in a long, narrow oval to match the bread shape. Lay the American cheese in strips across the top. Cook until the cheese begins to melt.
With the bread on a flat surface, use a wide spatula to lay half of the roast beef onto the bread, then fetch the other half and do it again. Add your vegetables on the other side so they are fairly evenly dispersed, then do your best to hold the sandwich together and cut in half.

Po’ Boy Shrimp Tacos

7 Comments March 1, 2022 terrie gura

Being creative in the kitchen is often little more than playing a game of mix and match. You take a dish you already know, apply another style of cuisine or a few ingredient swaps, and you’re on your way. That’s what happened in my kitchen when I decided to twist together Mardi Gras and Taco Tuesday.

Having never been to New Orleans myself, I already knew something about its foods (well, I mean, who doesn’t?) from friends and internet research. The po’ boy, a classic of New Orleans, is a simple sandwich of inexpensive ingredients—usually local, in-season seafood—fried up and served on French bread with lettuce, tomato and pickles. These humble yet tasty handhelds were slipped out the back door to out-of-work streetcar drivers who were on strike at the end of the Roaring ‘20s (now that we’re here, I suppose I should specify, 1920s). As the locals tell it, a kitchen worker would see one of the hungry drivers coming up for a handout, and shout, “here comes another po’ boy!”

My taco-esque spin on the po’ boy is not necessarily original, given that you have probably seen plenty of shrimp tacos. But the New Orleans flavors are purposely prominent here, from the savory dry spices I added to my handmade corn tortillas, to the Cajun spices in the shrimp breading, to the bold and zesty remoulade that topped it all off. There is no cheese or salsa on these tacos; rather, I swapped in the fresh toppings that you would expect on a po’ boy sandwich—thinly shredded lettuce and tomato. But I did want to keep it in taco territory, so I also layered in some thinly sliced jalapeno, which didn’t bother my heat-loving husband one bit. If it bothers you, leave ‘em off.

If I could hit the rewind button on one thing, I would be the preparation of the shrimp. The shrimp or fish on a true po’ boy would be deep fried in a cornmeal crust, so I went along with tradition on that, but my juicy shrimp did get a bit lost in the density of a buttermilk bath and all that breading, and the whole frying process made a mess of the kitchen and had me frustrated in the end. It was delicious but I doubt all that was necessary. My Plan B was to simply season the shrimp straight in the Cajun spices and give them a quick sauté, same as I do for my go-to Cajun shrimp & garlicky cheese grits. The flavors would have been the same and the overall dish would have been lighter, both in heft and calorie count, so I’ll try it that way next time.

But then again, it’s Fat Tuesday, so anything goes!

Ingredients

6 corn tortillas* (see ingredient notes)

1/2 lb. Gulf shrimp*, peeled and de-veined

2 tsp. spicy Cajun or Creole seasoning*

Canola or peanut oil for frying (amount depends on whether you use breading)

Breading (optional)

1/2 cup all-purpose flour, divided

1/2 cup cultured buttermilk

1/4 cup fine or medium cornmeal (seasoned with the Cajun spices)

Toppings

About 1/2 cup finely shredded lettuce (I used romaine)

1/2 cup chopped fresh tomato

A few thin slices fresh jalapeno (optional)

5 or 6 slices chopped sweet and spicy pickles (we love “Wickles” brand)

Remoulade

4 Tbsp. mayonnaise

1 Tbsp. Frank’s RedHot Sauce* (original variety)

1 Tbsp. minced fresh garlic

2 Tbsp. finely minced red onion

1/4 tsp. paprika (sweet or smoked)

1 Tbsp. sour cream

Salt and pepper

*Ingredient Notes

You could certainly use store-bought corn tortillas for your po’ boy tacos, and perhaps give them a quick flip through a dry cast-iron skillet to warm and slightly char them just before serving. We love handmade corn tortillas, and I added about 1/2 teaspoon each of smoked paprika and onion powder to my masa dough, to lend a little more flair. See my previous post on handmade corn tortillas for more detail about the technique.

For this batch of tortillas, I added a half teaspoon each of smoked paprika and onion powder.

I used large shrimp, 16 to 20 count per pound, but I cut them in half for easier divvying among our tacos. My recommendation for Gulf coast shrimp is not merely for authenticity (it is, after all, intended to be a tribute to New Orleans), but also for the integrity of the product. Be wary of seafood from other countries, especially the stuff that comes out of Southeast Asia, as the industry there is prone to problems ranging from over-fishing and contamination to heinous human rights violations. Is the domestic shrimp more expensive? I suppose it depends on who you ask.

If you don’t have a local fishmonger you trust, look for evidence of standards on the supermarket packaging, and don’t hesitate to ask questions at the fish counter.

To clarify, Cajun and Creole seasonings are not the same, but both are prominent in Louisiana cooking, and I believe they are interchangeable in this recipe, mostly based on your tolerance for heat. Cajun cuisine leans more toward spicy pepper heat and Creole is more about the dried herbs. I used a chile and garlic Cajun powdered seasoning, added to the cornmeal breading. If you skip the breading, simply toss the shrimp directly in the seasoning before sautéing—and don’t skimp!

Frank’s RedHot is the sauce I used, but if you can get your hands on a bottle of Crystal brand hot sauce (the preferred brand in Louisiana), by all means go with that.

Instructions

Remoulade is simply a dressed up mayonnaise. I seasoned mine with RedHot sauce, onions, fresh garlic, paprika and black pepper.
A dollop of sour cream softened the heat and lightened the texture.
I sampled the remoulade several times, just to be sure it was delicious. It was. 🙂
My shrimp are extra large, so I cut them into halves for easier distribution among my tacos.
If you plan to saute the shrimp rather than fry, skip the step of dusting them with flour. Otherwise, give them a quick toss…
And then give them a dip in the buttermilk. You could also dip them in a beaten egg.
My cornmeal breading was equal parts flour and fine cornmeal, jazzed up with a couple teaspoons of spicy Cajun garlic seasoning.
Finally, coat the shrimp in the spiced cornmeal breading.
Be sure to give the shrimp space in the skillet, and place them in the hot oil one at a time to avoid dropping the oil temperature too quickly.
Turn the pieces when the bottoms are crispy. If you need extra oil, add it between batches and allow time for it to heat up again.
I passed my cooked shrimp to my husband, who gave them a quick sprinkle of salt while they were still hot.
My po’ boy shrimp taco assembly line.
I loaded up my corn tortillas with shredded lettuce, sliced fresh tomato and thin slices of fresh jalapeno.
Divide the shrimp among the tortillas and top with a spoonful of the zesty remoulade, then garnish with the sliced pickles.
Happy Fat Tuesday!

Make the remoulade ahead, so the flavors have time to meld in the fridge. Stir together all ingredients and adjust heat, salt and pepper to taste. Cover and refrigerate until serving time.

If you are making your own tortillas, make those next, keeping them warm on a towel-lined plate as you prepare the shrimp.

For a sautéed version, pat the shrimp dry on paper towels. Spritz them with spray oil and then toss in the Cajun seasoning until well coated. Heat a small amount of oil in a skillet and saute, turning once, until shrimp are no longer pink. Total cooking time should be two to four minutes, depending on the size of the shrimp.

For fried shrimp, heat canola or peanut oil over medium heat in a cast iron skillet, about 1/2” deep. Pat the shrimp dry on paper towels. Set up a breading station, with half the flour in one dish, buttermilk in the second, and remaining flour mixed with cornmeal, Cajun seasoning and cayenne (if using) in a third.

When the oil is ready (toss a bread cube in to see if it bubbles immediately), toss the shrimp lightly in the plain flour, then dip into the buttermilk and finally the cornmeal mixture. Add the shrimp pieces to the skillet one at a time, keeping room between them. Don’t try to do the shrimp all at once because you will cause the oil temperature to drop too quickly. Turn the shrimp pieces when they are golden on the bottom, and salt immediately upon transfer to a paper towel-lined plate. If you need to add oil, do it between batches and allow time for it to return to proper temperature.

Assemble the po’ boy tacos, beginning with shredded lettuce, tomato and jalapeno (if using). Divide the shrimp among the tacos, dress with remoulade and garnish with chopped spicy pickles.

Po’ Boy Shrimp TacosSave or Print it!

My Favorite PB&J

3 Comments September 29, 2020 terrie gura

Throughout my childhood, I took for granted that everyone enjoyed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches the way my family made them. Not every time (but a good percentage of the time) I had this quintessential kid favorite, it was fried. You read that correctly—a fried peanut butter and jelly. 😋

I don’t mean greasy, county fair-style of battered-and-fried. This PB&J sandwich is assembled as usual, and then buttered on both sides and placed on a pan or griddle like a grilled cheese sandwich. The reward for patience while it cooked was a golden and crispy crust, with peanut butter and jelly melted together inside—a sticky, gooey, delicious mess of flavor.

I was at least halfway into my 20s before I realized that a fried PB&J was not a standard sandwich for everyone else, and I’m thrilled to have been let in on this flavorful secret sandwich at such a young age. This sandwich is helping me wrap up Better Breakfast Month, and I believe it qualifies as a “better” breakfast item for a few reasons:

It’s quick and easy to make
Kids and grownups alike will enjoy it
It’s a fun and elegant twist on an ordinary PB&J
It has whole grains, fiber, protein and fruit, which makes it nutritious (that’s my story and I’m sticking with it)

Making a fried PB&J is really as simple as I just described, and you certainly don’t need a recipe to do it. What I will offer instead is my guide to making the most memorable fried PB&J, because the ingredients you choose can make or break your first taste impression of this sandwich, which is, quite frankly, dangling right on the edge of the dessert category. Let’s begin with the foundation of any good sandwich:

The Bread

In my (trying to be) humble opinion, a homemade artisan-style bread will yield the best results. You guys know I’m all about sourdough, and this is the bread I’ll be using here, but I know not everyone has time to invest in learning or making naturally leavened bread. You can use store-bought bread to make a top-notch fried PB&J, provided you choose a suitable type. Hopefully, you are not still purchasing the long, skinny, plastic-wrapped loaves that are found in aisle 12 of the supermarket—but if you are, please stop. Cheap packaged breads are made of cheap, stripped-down ingredients, and the texture is all wrong for sandwiches, toast—well for anything, really.

I love Maurizio Leo’s sourdough recipe that I’ve linked above because it makes the best sandwiches (and the best toast). It uses a simple but unusual step of pre-cooking a portion of the flour, which enhances the final texture into something that is gelatinized and chewy yet tender, and 100% perfect for sandwiches. To be fair, the recipe is not for beginners, but if you have some experience with sourdough, I hope you’ll try it. Maurizio’s recipe makes two loaves, but I usually halve the recipe, and I bake it in a covered Pullman pan, which gives me perfectly square slices.

If you’re not yet a baker, pick up a good, simple artisan loaf from your supermarket bakery—preferably something partially whole grain, with a soft “crumb” (that’s a bread-nerd term for the interior texture of the bread) and a firm, slightly chewy crust. No nuts or seeds or anything extra—just a classic bread is fine. All your sandwiches henceforth will thank you.

The Peanut Butter

Every PB&J (fried or otherwise) I had as a kid was made with conventional supermarket peanut butter, namely the brand that the (allegedly) choosy mothers chose. But I have not bought that stuff in years because it contains sugar, plus hydrogenated oils that are blended in to keep the natural oils of the peanuts from separating. I discovered long ago the simple pleasure of a natural peanut butter, made from only peanuts and salt. Sure, you’ll have to stir it (but only once) and keep it in the refrigerator, but it’s only 90 extra seconds spent to protect your body from the hazards of trans fats. There’s the question of smooth vs. crunchy, and I’m going with crunchy because I love the added texture of the little peanut pieces. You decide.

The Jelly

The PB&J of my childhood was usually made with grape jelly, and I’ll admit that I still have a special place in my heart for the flavor of good old Welch’s. It may have something to do with the fact that I grew up a few miles down the road from their original headquarters in Westfield, New York. Concord grapes are a native grape, and they were everywhere in my neck of the woods—my best friend’s family even had concord vines growing on a pergola over their backyard patio. Sandy and I used to pick the grapes straight off the vine in late summer and squish the seedy insides into our mouths, tossing aside the bitter, astringent skins and then spitting out the seeds. I can still taste those grapes!

Today, it’s all but impossible to find a grape jelly that doesn’t list high fructose corn syrup in the first two ingredients, and that is a huge problem for me. This is an ingredient that did not exist at all in previous generations, but food manufacturers lean on it heavily today because it’s cheaper and easier to use than sugar. But it’s fake, and I’m not having it on my sandwich. Pick up a jar of handmade jelly at the farmer’s market or diligently inspect the ingredient labels in the supermarket if you’re as concerned about this issue as I am.

As an adult, I’ve developed a fondness for other flavors of jams and preserves, my favorites being raspberry, fig and cherry. For this fried PB&J, seedless is best, so I’m going with cherry preserves, and I’ve carefully selected a brand that is sweetened with real sugar. There are chunks of cherry in these preserves, too, so I know it will be delicious.

The Butter

To grill the sandwich, you’ll need to lightly butter both sides, and I do not recommend margarine or any other kind of butter substitute, unless you are dairy restricted. The milk solids in butter contribute to the lovely browning on the crust and, unfortunately, a substitute will not have the same crispy result. But if your only choice is plant-based butter, you will still enjoy this sandwich for the flavor and the incredible ooey-gooey texture that results from heating the peanut butter and jelly together.

I can’t stand the suspense, and my laptop can’t stand my drooling, so let’s get to it.

Only PB & J go on the inside. The grilling heat will cause the two to become one, and butter inside would only get in the way.

For best results, use modest amounts of both peanut butter and jelly. They will marry together so well under the gentle heat of the griddle, but too much of either will cause the filling to seep out everywhere. Keep the griddle level on a medium-low heat, for slow and even browning. This gives the filling time to properly warm so the peanut butter and jelly become like one. Turn the sandwich carefully so it doesn’t slide apart. And for sure, allow it to cool a couple of minutes, so the sandwich is “set up” properly when you cut into it. Plus, if you give into temptation and bite into it too quickly, you’ll burn the roof of your mouth. Trust me on this; warm is good, hot is painful.

This fried PB&J makes me so very happy, with each buttery crisp bite, and the warm nutty, fruity filling makes me feel like I’m nine years old again. In a good way. 😉 Each time I make one, I try to eat it slowly so I can hang onto that feeling. The other beauty of this sandwich is that it works for breakfast, lunch, dinner, late-night snack or any other time your sweet tooth and hunger collide.

Please let me know if you try it, and feel free to share in the comments any fun twists your family made on a classic comfort food!

Sourdough English Muffins

4 Comments April 28, 2020 terrie gura

Who doesn’t love an English muffin? It’s a terrific change-up from the usual toasted bread for breakfast, and at our house, we’re eating a lot of them lately. They’re quick and simple to make, with or without a stand mixer, and you don’t even need to turn on your oven. My recipe makes 12, and though that may seem like a lot for one household, I’ll note that these muffins aren’t just for breakfast. They also make exceptional burger buns, and my husband uses them to make sandwiches to take to work for lunch, too!

My inspiration recipe comes from King Arthur Flour, my favorite brand. And while I would certainly disclose any financial agreements with vendors, I will be clear to say that KAF is not paying me to brag about their products (not yet, anyway, but I’m open, baking team). I just like them, and I trust their website for products, baking ideas and help when I need it.

Their recipe for Sourdough English Muffins does require the use of ripe (fed) sourdough starter, and although it typically calls for addition of commercial yeast (for quicker rise), it’s possible to omit it, and I’ve adjusted for that in my notes below. If you don’t have a starter, their yeast-risen English muffins are great, too. It’s tough to find yeast during the COVID-19 pandemic, but if you happen to have some in your pantry, you’re golden. Here’s a tip—you can ration your yeast by halving the amount called for in the recipe; just give it more time to rise. This is true for virtually any yeast recipe, by the way.

Let’s Get Cooking!

Because the KAF recipe yields 24 English muffins (holy moly, that’s a lot!), I’ve taken the liberty of adjusting all the ingredients by half. Additionally, I always swap in some portion of whole grain flour in place of white, and I usually add some milled flax seed because I cannot leave well enough alone. You decide, based on your own experience and comfort level. If you notice grainy spots in my technique photos, this is the reason. They literally are grainy spots.

When these are completely cooled, you can put them in a sealed plastic bag. They’ll keep on the counter for up to a week, or you can put them in the freezer. No need to thaw them before toasting. I hope they turn out great for you!

Ingredients and Tools

(weight measurement included for seasoned bakers; if you’re baking these for the first time, please see notes section for tips on the best way to accurately measure your flour for baking)

1/2 cup (114g) ripe sourdough starter* (stirred down before measuring – see notes)
1 cup (227g) warm filtered water (ideally, about 110° F)
1/2 tsp instant yeast (optional, for quicker rise)
1 Tbsp. (12g) sugar
3 1/2 cups (422g) all-purpose flour* (see notes for measuring and substitutions)
1/4 cup (22g) nonfat dry milk* (see notes if you don’t have this)
1 1/2 tsp. fine sea salt
2 Tbsp. (28g) butter, room temperature
Additional flour for dusting counter for kneading
Cornmeal for dusting muffins before baking

*Notes

If you don’t have a kitchen scale, use this method for accurately measuring flour in baking
For sourdough science nerds who may be wondering, my starter is 100% hydration; I feed it (once or twice a week) 90/10 high protein bread flour/freshly milled rye flour
You may substitute whole wheat flour up to 1/3 of the total amount of flour
If you don’t have nonfat dry milk, adjust the water to 3/4 cup and use 1/4 cup regular milk along with it

Stand mixer or large bowl and heavy wooden spoon
Plastic wrap and clean lightweight kitchen towels
Electric griddle or pan for stove-top “baking”
Heat-safe spatula for turning
Cooling rack for finished muffins

Instructions

In a mixing bowl, bring your starter to room temperature, or at least allow some of the refrigerator chill to wear off. Combine with warm water until it’s an even slurry, and stir in the sugar (and instant yeast, if using) a minute or so to dissolve sugar.

In a separate bowl, combine flour, dry milk and sea salt until well blended. Add to the wet mixture and stir with a heavy wooden spoon or blend in stand mixer until all dry ingredients are incorporated. Switch to kneading hook or turn the dough out onto a floured countertop. Knead until the dough feels a little less shaggy and more organized. Cover with plastic wrap and let it rest about 20 minutes.

Stretch out the dough and spread the soft butter over it. The KAF recipe suggests adding the butter at the start, but I’ve learned to add fats after the flour is fully hydrated, so this is my method. Fold the dough up with butter inside and continue kneading, about 10 minutes by hand or 5 to 6 minutes by machine with dough hook. This part will get messy, but keep at it and eventually, the butter will work its way through the entire dough. You want smooth and even dough—soft and slightly tacky, but not sticky. Shape dough into a tight ball (if you imagine squeezing it around and toward the bottom, you’ll get a feel for this), place it in a lightly oiled bowl and turn to coat, then cover the bowl with plastic wrap or lid and let it rise at room temperature until it’s puffy and nearly doubled in size. If your room is warm and you used additional yeast, this will be about 60 minutes. If you didn’t use yeast, it may be a couple of hours—give it the time it needs. Gently deflate the dough by pushing the center with your closed fist (one day soon, I’ll explain why I hate the term “punching down your dough”). With lightly oiled hands, reshape it into a ball, cover the bowl and put it into the refrigerator overnight. This step is beneficial either way, but especially important if you did not add yeast. Sourdough bakers already know that cold fermentation is a magical thing, and this down time in the fridge will result in extra flavor and improved texture.

In the morning, turn the cold dough out onto a lightly floured countertop and cut it into 12 roughly equal pieces. The simplest way I’ve found to do this is the cut the ball in half, then each half into halves, and each resulting half into thirds, like 12 little pieces of pizza. Shape each wedge into a tight ball, and flatten each ball with your fingertips onto a piece of parchment paper, sprinkled lightly with corn meal. They should measure about 3 1/4” across, or the size of—you guessed it—an English muffin! You will probably want to do two cookie sheets, each holding 6 muffins. Sprinkle the tops of the muffins with additional corn meal.

This is an essential tool in my kitchen, great for cutting bread dough evenly. Cut in half first, then smaller sections.
Cut each half into 6 equal size wedges. Don’t fret if they aren’t exact.
To shape the edges, fold the pointed end underneath, then keep folding cut edges under until it’s a more rounded shape.
Pinch the dough together tightly on the bottom, then roll it in your hand to seal the pinched edges.
Lay the dough balls on cornmeal sprinkled parchment, and press them flat with your fingertips into 3 1/4 inch rounds.

If the dough is still cold, it will probably shrink back—that’s OK. Cover them with plastic and let them rest 15 minutes to relax the gluten, then flatten them again. Cover the muffins with loose plastic wrap, lay a clean lightweight kitchen towel over the plastic and allow the muffins some privacy in a warm (but not hot) spot in your kitchen. I usually slide the pans into the oven, where it’s quiet and not at all drafty.

About 2 hours later, your muffins should look soft and puffy. My last batch rose to about 1/2” thickness, but they will puff more when you introduce them to heat.

If you have an electric griddle, heat it to about 325° F. If not, you can do it stove-top in a cast iron pan or griddle over medium-low heat. Our gas range has a “griddle in the middle” that allows me to do 6 muffins at a time; in a skillet, you’ll probably want to limit to 3 at once. I kept the flame pretty low because it’s better to cook them a tiny bit longer than to burn them.

I squeezed my camera underneath the griddle so you can see how low I set the flame. If you’re cooking your muffins stove-top, give the pan or griddle plenty of time to reach consistent heat.

When the griddle or pan is radiating consistent heat (you should be able to feel it easily with your hand about 6” above), gently place the muffins onto the surface. They will puff a bit more as they cook, but they won’t spread outward the way cookies do. Still, try to keep a bit of room between them so you can wiggle in a spatula when it’s time to turn them over.

After about 7 minutes, your muffins are probably ready to turn. Check by gently lifting up one edge and peeking underneath. If it looks golden and toasty, it’s time! Gently turn them without flipping too hard—you don’t want to deflate them in the process.

Give the second side about 6 more minutes, then check for doneness and remove them to a cooling rack to calm down. The sides of the muffins will still feel a bit soft, and that can be a little unnerving until you’ve made them a few times. Here’s a simple tip for testing doneness: when you turn over the first muffin, tap the cooked side lightly with your fingernail or the tip of your spatula. If it sounds hollow, you’re good. If it still feels a little soft or spongy, they probably need another minute. To be certain, you can slide the finished muffins onto a cookie sheet and into a pre-warmed 350° F oven for a few minutes to finish any raw insides.

When the muffins have completely cooled (and please, not one second sooner), use the tines of a fork to split through to the middle, all the way around.

Fork-splitting the muffins creates a perfect texture inside, and ensures plenty of pockets for butter or jam. Be certain they are completely cool before splitting them.

This will allow you to easily break them open later, for the beautiful nooks and crannies that I’m probably not allowed to talk about because of trademark rules.

But just look—can you think of a better way to describe those butter-loving pockets?

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Sourdough English MuffinsDownload