The Great Brittle Experiment

Introduction

Lately people have been coming to my blog by running a search for “undercooked peanut brittle”. Having made some myself recently, and not knowing what to do with the stuff, I undertook the experiment that answers the question we all have: is it possible to salvage undercooked peanut brittle?My hypothesis was that while the candy part would return to a syrup that I could heat to the necessary temperature to make the brittle crispy (rather than sticky, as undercooked brittle is), the peanuts might burn in the process. I thought this because in my recipe, I add the peanuts last, just before pouring the brittle out of the pan. I know that recipes exist in which the peanuts are cooked in the syrup to some degree, but my peanuts are already roasted, so I thought that cooking them more might not do good things. And how prescient that thought was…

Procedure

Fig. 1: Large bowl, small microwave

I began by placing the undercooked peanut brittle into a microwave safe bowl, that, unfortunately, was too large for the microwave. After moving the brittle to a smaller bowl, I zapped it until it was syrupy again–this worked pretty well. I moved the goo into a sauce pan, thinking I’d heat to to a bit above 300 degrees–enough to bring it to “hard crack” stage here in the ever-damp Pacific Northwest–and see what happened.

Well, it went along fine for a while. I had the heat up pretty high (as one generally does for brittle), and the temperature rose linearly instead of pausing every ten degrees or so like usual. Around 290 degrees, though, it started to smell burn-y and smoke. Now, normally I can smell a burning-esque smell from the hot butter when I cook brittle, so I held off a bit on pouring it out. However, after about thirty seconds, it became clear to me that something in there really was burning, and I poured it out. Indeed, it was the peanuts.

Results

Fig. 2: The re-cooked (previously undercooked) peanut brittle

Discussion

Now, here’s the thing: I didn’t stir the mixture, and obviously I should have. I was treating it like a standard sugar syrup, which you don’t mess with at all. As you can see, though, the peanuts only burned where they were in contact with the bottom of the pan, not in a general fashion. Also, the candy part of the brittle did crisp up. Thus, my initial hypothesis seems correct, though the experiment failed to produce a terribly tasty result. To improve this procedure, I would recommend stirring the mixture while re-cooking it; if you did that, I believe that it would be possible to salvage an undercooked peanut brittle.

Cold Thursday

calluses

It thawed a bit today, so I took advantage of the non-frozen roads by going to the gym. I set a new squat PR, at 155 lbs. I probably could have done more, but I was working without a spotter, so I left it at that. It’s moving forward, slowly, but forward nevertheless.

Last night I made more peanut brittle again–this was the third batch. It was over 90% humidity, so I cooked it to about 308 degrees (instead of to 300 as the recipe instructed). It makes me nervous, because it always seems like the butter in the recipe is burning when it gets that hot, but it came out perfect. Nice and crunchy, and good color too. I am also starting to get the hang of testing the sugar syrup by hand using the cold water method. I tested at the “soft crack” stage last night (which is when I add the baking soda and butter), and it separated into pliable threads, exactly like Joy said it would. However, when I tried testing the finished candy at the “hard crack” stage, it just dripped into the water in little gooey droplets and didn’t separate into threads at all. Alas, you win some and you lose some. Nevertheless, the brittle came out great, so now I have some to bring to Christmas, as the previous batch was happily hoovered up by Dave’s party guests.

Brittle number three.

Sweets for the sweet

A candy making spree? Why yes, I did say that, didn’t I…

So the holidays have been coming, and I was feeling a bit sad because Brian and I have very limited means this year with which to celebrate or buy gifts for the various people in our lives. I was picking up a few items at the dollar store the other day when I saw these cute metal tins in holiday colors, and I thought, hey, I could make candy, and wrapped up in the tins it could make for nice (and affordable) little gifts. Also, I have a particular fondness for confectionery work–not that I’ve made much candy, and not that I have much of a sweet tooth either–it’s more the technical kitchen chemistry element of it all that appeals. And so it began, with…

Batch number one--the recipe was for a "pulled" brittle, hence the reason it's all stretched out on the counter.

Peanut brittle!

I figured I ought to start with a candy that’s cheap to make, in case I screwed it up.  Which I did.  Like I said, I haven’t made much candy, so I didn’t think too much about the weather. The Joy of Cooking says don’t make hard candies on humid days, and to me it seemed like a perfectly dry, sunny day here in Eugene Oregon. I mean, if it’s not raining, it’s dry, right? Wrong. Peanut brittle doesn’t find 80% humidity dry, even if that’s about the best we get here in the winter. So, despite following the recipe, it turned out undercooked, which makes it technically peanut toffee–and very, very sticky. Eating this stuff just makes me fear for my fillings. I haven’t thrown it out yet, but I think I will. It’s not what I wanted at all.

Umm, truffles...?

Next, I fell back on something familiar–truffles. I ground up some of my peanut toffee in the food processor, and made ganache truffles.  Then I decided to get fancy and dip them in more chocolate. Again, harder that it seemed from the recipe. Tempering the coating chocolate is fussy, and then when I dipped them… well, see the results for yourself. This was not easy. However, they did clean up decently, but I have a newfound respect for chocolatiers–hand dipping chocolates, and making them look all fancy and nice requires considerable technical skill. Which I don’t have.

Putting anything in these little paper cups makes it look better.

So, while there have been further sugar and corn syrup based adventures since, Brian took off to Portland with my camera, so I’ll stop here but there’s more to come–and practice is definitely helping.

Mapo Dofu

Mapo dofu and gai lan, mmm...

I’ve been meaning to try to make mapo dofu for a long time now. Always in search of tasty cheap and proteinaceous foodstuffs, it seemed like it might fit the bill. With ground meat and tofu as its base ingredients, it’s definitely cheap, anyway. Really, I’ve only eaten it a couple of times (at a restaurant, of course), and that was back when I lived in Houston, so I don’t even remember what it’s supposed to taste like. However, that’s a rather common cooking challenge for me–there’s a great deal that I can’t personally cross check.

I used the recipe from Mrs. Chiang’s Szechwan Cookbook, which I got several years ago from the big Goodwill in Portland. It was a bit fussy in the prep work (chop garlic and ginger into a paste, cut cloud ears and water chestnuts into cubes “the size of match heads”, etc.) but takes only about five minutes to actually cook. I used ground pork and soft tofu; I think next time I’ll try it with ground chicken. The pork has an earthy taste that I don’t appreciate so much; I’m a bit of a wimp when it comes to meats that actually taste like an animal. It’s definitely a keeper though; it’s spicy and filling, and the Szechwan peppercorns add a very unique flavor. It does seem like more of a cold weather dish, though.











Mapo Dofu
Pour hot water over 1/4 cup tree ears (black fungus) and let soak.
Peel and finely chop a 3-inch piece of ginger.
Chop 5 scallions.
In a bowl, combine 1/2 pound ground pork, beef, or chicken, about a quarter of the chopped scallion, a tablespoon of the ginger, 2 tablespoons soy sauce, 1 tablespoon mirin or sherry, and 1 teaspoon sesame oil. Let sit while you prepare the following:
Cut 1 package tofu into 1/2 inch cubes. Peel and finely mince garlic to make two tablespoons, chopped; chop 6 water chestnuts and the (now soft) tree ears into “match head sized pieces”.
Assemble and have handy 1.5 teaspoons hot pepper flakes, 1 teaspoon sugar, 3 tablespoons soy sauce, 1.5 teaspoons ground, roasted Szechwan peppercorns, and another teaspoon of sesame oil. Add 1 tablespoon corn starch to meat mixture. OK, ready to cook?
Put a few tablespoons oil into your preheated wok or big frying pan (you want the heat pretty high), and when it’s hot add the garlic and ginger first, cook for 30 seconds, then add the hot pepper flakes (beware the mace effect), then the water chestnuts and tree ears. After another half minute, add the meat. Cook until it’s, well, cooked, then add the tofu and the rest of the scallions. Cook a minute. Add the sugar and give it another half minute or so. Add the soy sauce and about 1/2 cup water. Let it bubble for a couple of minutes. Add the Szechwan peppercorns, cook 30 seconds, add the sesame oil, and voila, it’s done. Not bad, eh?