Goat Cheese Brownies

It's here: the official publication date for the first-ever, all-goat book--meat, milk, and cheese! If you want to know the butchering schematics for goat and then a whole heckuva lot beyond--like how goat cheese is made, how goat milk differs from all other mammal milks, why it's considered the "universal" mammal's milk, how there's a whole cheesy world beyond creamy chèvre--this is the book for you.

Bruce and I are so thrilled. And thrilled so much is in the works for the book. Crazy. We'll be teaching at Central Markets across Texas in May, introducing my fellow Lone-Star-ites to the pleasures of all things goaty. We're heading out to California in a few weeks to be a part of the Third Annual Goat Festival at the Ferry Terminal Market (4/16) and do a signing at Omnivore Books--as well as shoot a few TV episodes and some tips for CHOW. And much more to come.

Such a reaction is probably inevitable. Goat meat is the world's most consumed meat. And goat milk is the world's most drunk dairy. (Although more cow milk is drunk per annum in sheer poundage, more people drink goat milk than cow milk.) Yet this global animal has escaped factory farming. If you want to go local, go goat. Or if you simply want to experience a whole new culinary horizon--and how many times can you say that?--go goat. Click here to get your copy of this first-ever book--with perhaps the best introductory line I've ever written for a cookbook: "I lied while wearing make-up." I'll just leave it there and let you imagine what comes next. (By the way, it's being simultaneously published in Canada, Great Britain, and many other countries. Check your local booksellers' websites--or the amazon site for your country.)

But for now, I wanted to celebrate with a blog-only goat recipe: fudgy, buck brownies made with creamy fresh goat cheese.

I realize I'm on a bit of a brownie kick as of late (see here and here and here), but I can't help myself. I wanted to give the readers of this blog an exclusive, something not found in the book, a thank-you as it were for being one of the hundreds (sometimes even thousands) of daily subscribers and unique visitors to this site. I realize I don't garner a lot of comments, but I see you in the stats--and I wanted to thank you in some way. So here goes.

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Lunchbox Brownies

I'll let you in on one of the secrets of our process, one that has led to twenty books now: every time Bruce and I have written a cookbook, we've tried to strike a balance. Yes, among the number of ingredients--he, the chef, is always for way more than I, the writer. And yes, among our tastes--there are two of us here and one is more butter (I'm raising my hand) while the other is more olive oil.

But mostly, we try to come up with a "median recipe"--that is, the recipe that's the center of the book: not too far one way or the other, not too complicated, but not simple either. We build from there with recipes more complex and more simple. But we always begin by trying to figure out the balance point.

Maybe that's why the students in Bruce's knitting class are so excited about these brownies. They were the median point in our all-brownie book, THE ULTIMATE BROWNIE BOOK. A whole book about brownies? You bet!

These brownies travel well, store well, are a cross between the dense fudge ones and the airier cake ones. The median. And apparently a reason to get excited.

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Cocoa Brownies

If it's time to sift some flour and cocoa powder, it's time to make some of my favorite brownies!

Yes, good brownies usually require you to melt chocolate. But these are a little simpler: just cocoa, in fact. Yet they're dense, fudgy, and a little chewy. If you want them even fudgier, bake them a minute or two less, until a cake tester inserted into the brownie cake comes out with several moist crumbs attached.

Before we begin, two quick things. One: that darn sifting. Yes, it's important--to remove lumps from the flour and the cocoa. The brown lumps can be forced through the wire mesh, but leave any little bits of floury lumpiness in the sifter. We use a fine-mesh strainer for the task. Better still, the sifted flours make for a lighter cake and crumb. In other words, num num num.

Second: cocoa powder. As you know, there are two kinds--Dutch processed (with an alkali that helps it dissolve more quickly) and "natural" (without said alkali). This is not a fussy recipe. Either will work, although the natural kind will produce slightly chewier brownies.

Let's get to it. . . .

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Brown Sugar Brownies

For us, the process of writing a cookbook involves finding the middle ground.

It's ever the dream, no? I once had a discussion once with a sommelier who told me that he tries to gauge the middle bottle of wine and then build the list out from there in both directions. (Unfortunately, he thought the middle bottle ran about $90US. Ah, well!) 

When Bruce and I write cookbooks, we also try to figure out that illusive middle. Which recipe stakes it out--and which then have the freedom to break it?

We believe the middle ground is made up of three things: taste, effort, and cost. To give you a little peak into the behind-the-scenes thinking in our latest book, REAL FOOD HAS CURVES, the seven-step plan to get off processed food, we staked out the middle ground with the oven-fried fish fillets, the ones included in the discussion about effort v. cost in our food choices, found in chapter 2, "Make Informed Choices."

We later included far easier and less costly recipes (like the no-cook peach salsa) and more difficult, challenging ones (like the Mapo Dofou--which you can also find on this blog here).

That process is perhaps nowhere more evident than in The Ultimate Brownie Book. So many people have their notion of brownies: there's the caky camp and the fudgy camp, for one thing. So we first sat down to try to find something that fell right in the middle, all other brownies moving out to the edges. And believe me, there some out on the edges. Like the caky brownies made with a can of Coca-Cola, a riff on my Cousin Wilma Faye's "co'-cola cake." (Yes, I had a cousin named Wilma Faye. Doesn't everybody?) Or like the fudgy Sour Cream Brownies. Crazy. Barely holding together in the pan. One minute less baking time and you could use them as an ice cream topping.

So here's the middle ground of brownies, a little bit cakey, a little bit fudgy, with only one kind of chocolate not three or four, certainly indulgent as a treat but not too much so, a little decadent but certainly not too much so.

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