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heyitssmiller · 4 years

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Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 10: You’re Shrimp-ly Amazing

This is it! We’ve officially reached the end of this story! Thank you so much to everyone who’s read and kept up with this - I really hope you enjoyed all the cooking and pining and fluff. @lumosinlove Thank you for letting me run away with your characters and go completely overboard! You’ve created such wonderful characters that I can’t help but want to write about <3

Tag List: @peanut-in-the-goal @whataboutmyfries @raxelle-nite-in-gale @heyoitslysso @spookydiyharrypotterbat

Masterlist for Chop It Like It’s Hot

Leo stopped in front of Logan and Finn’s apartment door and fished his keys out of his pocket, flipping through them until he found the key to their door - he had a key now.

He had barely opened the door before he was tackled by both of his boys.

“Peanut butter.” Finn said happily, face buried in Leo’s chest.

Logan looked up at him with bright, happy eyes that were crinkling at the corners. “God, we missed you.”

Leo smiled excitedly and let them lead him inside the apartment. “Missed you - mmph.” He stopped talking as Logan surged up and kissed him, cradling his jaw in a calloused hand. Leo felt the tension leave his shoulders and kissed back, hands on Logan’s waist and sneaking underneath his sweatshirt. When he finally had the air to breathe, he finished his sentence. “Missed you too.”

“Stop being a Leo hog.” Finn grumbled good-naturedly, stepping in to give Leo a long, lingering kiss that left him speechless.

“Welcome ho – I mean, welcome back.” Finn said. “We made dinner. And before you make that face, it’s a recipe from Celeste. We even called her while cooking to make sure we were doing everything right.”

I love you two.

Leo didn’t say it out loud – none of them had. But hopefully soon. Instead he said, “Sounds perfect. What’s for dinner?”

“Hey, y’all, and welcome back to Cajun Cooking! A lot of people have requested that I do this recipe, so today we’re making shrimp etouffee. This is a Louisiana classic and there are a lot of different recipes out there but this is my mama’s recipe, so it’s very authentic. You can also use crawfish in this recipe, but mama always used shrimp because she knew a shrimp fisherman and could get a better deal.” Leo smiled at the camera set up in the kitchen, then looked over to his boys.

“Today we’ve got some familiar faces here to be my sous chefs for the day and help me out. If you watched the last season of Worst Cooks, then you’ll definitely recognize them.”

Logan and Finn stepped into view. Logan waved awkwardly while Finn gave the camera a mock salute. “Sup.”

“So first, we’ve got to start with preparing our fresh shrimp.” Leo said, holding up a shrimp that hadn’t been deconstructed yet. Finn made a disgusted face at it. “Start by grabbing your shrimp and just take the head off. You should feel where the head ends and the rest of the shrimp begins, so just grab there and pull.”

Logan and Finn shared a look of mild horror. Leo, like always, was unfazed.

“Next, hold where the legs are and peel back on the outer shell until you’re left with the soft shrimp meat on the inside. The legs should come off at the same time, too. Now be sure to save those shells! We’re going to use it for the shrimp stock later on. Make sure you pull the tail off, too.” He looked over at the other two. “Sound good?”

“Um…”

“It’s not so bad. I’ll do it with you.” Leo slowly showed them how to do it again, then motioned for them to get started.

“These look so gross.” Finn said, hesitantly holding a shrimp by the tail. Logan smirked and grabbed a shrimp before slowly bringing it closer to Finn’s face, those beady little eyes staring into his soul. Finn shrieked and scrambled backwards while Logan and Leo laughed.

They all got started on preparing the shrimp. Leo still did over half of the work, but he got to watch the other two grimace and flinch as they worked, which was pretty entertaining.

“While they’re finishing up, I’m going to show you a quick and easy way to devein shrimp.” Leo said, grabbing a de-shelled shrimp. “Start by making a slit along the middle of the back with a small knife and pull the dark vein out. Most people just rinse the shrimp under cold water to clean them, but sometimes this isn’t enough to completely clean the shrimp. In Japanese cooking, they actually clean shrimp with potato starch. The potato starch absorbs the smell and dirty particles from shrimp really well, so that’s what I usually do. Just grab some potato starch and rub it all over the shrimp and then rinse it all off. See how dirty the starch gets as you scrub the shrimp? That’s some clean shrimp right there.”

Leo looked over at his boys, smiling softly as they meticulously deveined shrimp. “How are we doing, sous chefs?”

“No one told me that shrimp shells can be sharp.” Logan said, sending him a playful glare. “Also, these are really gross.”

“But it’s going to taste so good.” Leo cajoled with puppy dog eyes that were proven to consistently work on Finn and Logan. Logan sighed, lips twitching as he fought a smile while Finn just melted.

They all got back to work deveining and cleaning shrimp until they were all done.

“Next we’re going to make our shrimp stock. If you guys could chop half of an onion, celery, and two garlic cloves, that would be great.”

Logan grabbed the vegetables while Finn grabbed two knives.

“And please don’t cut yourselves.” Leo hastily added with a grimace. “I taught you knife-handling, please tell me you haven’t forgotten it.”

Logan leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You worry too much, baby.” Then his eyes widened and he glanced at the camera guiltily. “Shit. We can edit that out, if you want.”

Leo didn’t even have to think about it. He reached over and tangled his fingers with Logan’s. “I’m fine with it if you are.” He glanced over at Finn, who had stopped chopping his onion and was looking at them with teary eyes. “Finn?”

“One of these days,” He said with a laugh, “I’m gonna make the onions cry.”

The other two laughed with him, shuffling over to hug him. Logan reached up and wiped away the tears. “You’re ridiculous.”

Finn shrugged. “Yeah. But I’m happy.”

“So are we.” Leo said, unable to contain his smile. “Ready to get back to cooking?”

***

They had invited people over to eat all the shrimp etouffee at Logan and Finn’s apartment after they were done recording. So sure enough, at six o’clock on the dot, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Come on in!” Logan called as Leo added more Tabasco to the pot and Finn watched as people piled into their apartment.

This. This was what he wanted for the rest of his life. His boys next to him and his friends in the living room talking loudly over each other.

This was home.

Dumo, Celeste, and the kids were the last to enter. Dumo made a beeline to the team to try and break up the bickering that had started up while the kids immediately swarmed Logan, clamoring for attention.

Celeste smiled apologetically. “Well, this is chaotic.”

“It’s nice.” Leo said, quickly sampling his dish. “Much better than an empty apartment.”

She hummed sympathetically, resting her arms on the kitchen counter separating them. “I remember that. Having hockey player partners who travel all the time is tough, isn’t it? And to be long distance, too.” She whistled lowly. “Have you considered moving?”

Leo looked over at Logan listening patiently to the kids and Finn washing dishes at the sink and couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. Yeah I have.” He laughed in disbelief. “Is that crazy? We haven’t even known each other for a year.”

She shrugged. “Are you happy?” At Leo’s nod, she continued, “Then who cares if it’s early by society’s standards? I, for one, know those two would be over the moon if you moved in. They pout when you’re gone.”

He laughed fondly. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“Oh! I’ve been meaning to ask you this for weeks now and it just keeps slipping my mind. Could you share your jambalaya recipe? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since you made it.”

“Well…” Leo winced. “It’s actually a family recipe. We don’t want everyone to get their hands on it, you know?”

“I mean, we’ll be practically family soon enough.” Celeste teased. Leo smiled so broadly that those dimples could’ve been seen from space.

“Give me your chocolate cake recipe and it’s a deal.”

Celeste laughed loudly and looked over to Logan, who was shuffling over with Katie clinging tightly to him. “I like this one.”

“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “He’s a keeper.”

“Yo, are we ready to eat yet?” Pots shouted from the living room. “Kasey gets grumpy when he’s hungry.”

“Do not.” Kasey grumbled.

“We’re ready.” Leo called. “Hope you boys like some spice.”

“Even if you think you do, brace yourselves.” Finn added. “Leo’s got a heavy hand with the Tabasco.”

“Because it tastes good on everything.”

Logan squinted at him. “Does it, though?”

“Do you want me to prove it?”

“No.”

***

They arrived at the rink early, still blinking sleep out of their eyes and yawning and leaning into each other for warmth.

“You ready to skate?” Finn asked, leading the way to the equipment room.

“Sure. I’m probably a little rusty, though. I haven’t skated since high school.”

Logan closed the door behind them, giving Leo a curious look. “Why’d you quit?”

Leo sighed. “I was a gay kid in the south. Hockey’s not known for being very accepting even when you live in more tolerant places. But in Louisiana…” He shrugged and grabbed a pair of skates in his size. “It wasn’t worth it, no matter how much I loved to play.” Looking at their sad expressions, he hurried to continue, “But it’s fine. I don’t regret it. I found where I was supposed to be, and I love what I’m doing. And I wouldn’t have met y’all if I hadn’t gone to culinary school.”

“It’s still not fair.”

“No,” Leo agreed, moving to stand in front of Logan. “But now kids in the same situation have you two and Cap to look up to. And that makes a world of difference. Now, are we going to skate or not?”

Logan and Finn lead him to the locker room, where they grabbed their own skates, and then down the tunnel to the ice. They all laced up their skates and glided out onto the ice.

“See? Not too rusty.” Logan said, leaning forward to look at Leo on the other side of Finn. “I’m sure you’ll do fine at family skate.”

“Thanks for inviting me, by the way.” Leo said, quickly adding, “It’s just… I know we haven’t been together all that long, but y’all mean so much to me, so being able to get to know your friends and family is –”

He trailed off as Finn skated in close and kissed him oh-so-gently before leaning back and running his hand tenderly through the gray tuft of hair at his forehead.

“I love you, Peanut.”

Leo sucked in a breath and stared at him.

“We love you.” Logan amended, joining their little huddle.

Leo smiled softly, his heart feeling like it was overflowing. He grabbed both of their hands in his. “I love you, too. God, I love you so much, you have no idea. I’m so glad you two got signed up for that show.”

“Dumo and Celeste, the accidental matchmakers.”

Finn grinned. “We should bake them a cake.”

“We can do that.” Leo agreed. “We’ve got nothing but time.”

And with that exciting new prospect they continued their skate across the ice, hand in hand.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #o'knutzy #chop it like it's hot

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ravencheck02-blog · 5 years

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extra-flaky pie crust

[Welcome back to ✨ Newer, Better Month ✨ on Smitten Kitchen, when I get update a few SK classics with new knowledge, new techniques, and with real-life time constraints in mind. Previously.]

The concept of “newer better” is always going to be relative, and no more so than in this recipe. For all of the years I’ve been cooking, I’ve made pie dough one way. I shared the recipe with you in 2008, have referenced it in every recipe for pie since, and, until a couple years ago, never veered from it. My recipe is not an outlier; it contains the same ingredient ratios as 99% of American-style pie crust recipes out there. There might be variations in types of fats, preferred flours, sometimes there’s a little buttermilk or apple cider vinegar instead of some of the water or a little more or less sugar and salt, but they’re almost all the same ratio of fat to flour to water. It makes a great pie crust. Here’s where the relativity comes in: If you make pie crusts the way I’ve long made pie crusts and you’re happy with these pies, stop reading now. There’s nothing to see here! This isn’t for you! This is for people who have tried that fairly standard formula and found it lacking. A little tough. Not flaky enough. It comes up! I’m listening.

So let’s talk about what that last one percent of pie doughs do differently. It’s not the butter or the liquid; by and large, these recipes use the same amount. It’s the flour — they use less. If you’re thinking, “but if you use less flour and the same amount of butter and water, the dough might be stickier and harder to work with?” — you are correct. I began auditioning these lighter-on-the-flour doughs a few years ago and found them a little pesky and if you’re wondering if “pesky” is smiled through gritted teeth, well, you are correct again. And I feel pretty comfortable with butter-flour doughs! What does this mean for people who do not? Given that making pie dough at all from scratch is even for some of the most skilled home cooks a hurdle they do not wish to surmount (hi mom!), why suggest a trickier recipe? Why raise the hurdle? (Why download DuoLingo and start with Russian, Deb? Ahem, I digress.)

It’s because it’s worth it. This is the croissant-flaky pie dough of dreams. If my eyes were closed, I would not know that I wasn’t biting into puff pastry, which shatters into thousands of featherweight-but-crisp shards on impact. It’s undeniably flakier, but also of course it is: less flour means less weight, less density. And yes, it softens up a little faster. You’ll need more flour to keep it loose from the counter when rolling it out. A little folding improves structure and increases the expansion of flaky layers. These were small adjustments I had to make to get the hang of it but it’s absolutely worth it because you get this when you’re done:

And this.

Also this.

And you made this with your hands! It took 5 minutes to assemble and 5 minutes to roll out. You did this. You’re amazing. Honestly, I always knew you had it in you.

Previously

One year ago: Sweet Potato Tacos Two years ago: Punjabi-Style Black Lentils Three years ago: Churros Four years ago: Red Bean and Green Grain Taco Bowl Five years ago: Broccoli, Cheddar and Wild Rice Casserole Six years ago: My Favorite Buttermilk Biscuits Seven years ago: Potato Knish, Two Ways Eight years ago: The Best Baked Spinach Nine years ago: Thick, Chewy Granola Bars and Arroz con Leche (Rice Pudding) Ten years ago: Thick, Chewy Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, Key Lime Coconut Cake, and Steak Sandwiches Eleven years ago: Alex’s Chicken and Mushroom Marsala, Almond Biscotti Twelve years ago: Mediterranean Eggplant and Barley Salad

And for the other side of the world: Six Months Ago: Flapjacks 1.5 Years Ago: Marbled Banana Bread 2.5 Years Ago: Even More Perfect Blueberry Muffins and Plum Squares with Marzipan Crumble 3.5 Years Ago: Caponata and Zucchini Rice and Cheese Gratin 4.5 Years Ago: Corn Cheddar and Scallion Strata and Chocolate and Toasted Hazelnut Milk

Extra-Flaky Pie Crust

Servings: For one standard double-crust pie, two single-crust pies, or this lattice-slab shown here

Time: 15 minutes prep, 1 to 2 hours to chill

Source: Smitten Kitchen

Previously, my pie dough rules were: use all butter (it’s very flaky if used well, and tasty too), keep everything cold, use a pastry blender, work the butter into the flour until the largest bits are the size of small peas, and only use enough water to pull the dough together. I am still loyal to all-butter crusts, but I’ve come around to mixing your dough with your fingers (with a satisfying squash of each cube, although I’m never giving up my pastry blender), I’ve added a little folding to the rolling-out steps, which improves structure and increases the expansion of flaky layer, and that with this, you can get away with leaving the butter in larger, lima bean-sized pieces. Finally, I actually get the dough pretty damp — you’ll be sure it’s too soft and sticky, but I promise, it’s not — and it’s not a problem at all. In fact, because we’re using a higher proportion of butter in this dough, and butter is very hard when it’s cold, I find that this extra moisture makes what would otherwise be a very firm dough easier to roll.

Many thanks to Stella Park’s No-Stress, Super-Flaky Pie Crust technique for helping me overcome my stubborness/showing me the light about wetter doughs and folded roll-outs.

2 cups (260 grams) all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon (15 grams) granulated sugar

3/4 teaspoon fine sea or table salt

1 cup (230 grams, 8 ounces, or 16 tablespoons) cold, unsalted butter

1/2 cup (120 grams) very cold water

Place your flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl and whisk to combine. Cut your butter into small cubes (1/2-inch is ideal here) and add them into the flour mixture. Toss them around so that they’re coated and used your fingers to squash each butter cube into flatter, lima-bean like pieces. It’s totally fine if this is bigger than you’re used to.

[You could also use a pastry blender, stand mixer, or a food processor, but go very easy on it, especially the food processor — you want flat-ish, lima bean-sized pieces of butter, not the usual “coarse meal” or “small pea-sized” mixture. If using a food processor, when you’re done, dump this butter-flour mixture into a large bowl before continuing.]

Pour water over butter-flour mixture and use a flexible silicone spatula or scraper to bring it together into a dough that will seem too wet and sticky, but will be just fine. Divide dough into two parts, and wrap each half into flat-ish packets wrapped in plastic, waxed or parchment paper.

Chill in the fridge until firm — one to two hours.

Unwrap first packet of dough, place on a well-floured counter, sprinkle the top generously with flour, and roll it out into a thick-ish long rectangle. Brush of excess flour off dough with your hands and fold it as you would a business letter, into thirds. Continue to roll this packet into the shape needed for your final pie — shown here 10×15-inch, but a 14-inch round is the usual size for a standard pie crust.

From here, you’ll want to follow the instructions for the pie you’re making. Looking for ideas? Start here!

A fun breakfast pastry I only made to showcase this awesome pie crust but actually ended up abundantly flaky and just a little sweet: Heat oven to 425 degrees F. Mix 4 cups sliced rhubarb (here about 1/4-inch thick), 3 tablespoons tapioca starch, 1/3 cup granulated sugar, a pinch of salt, a pinch of ginger, and the juice of half a lemon. Roll both pie dough halves into 10×15-inch rectangles; keep them firm and cool in the fridge while not using them, especially if they’ve gotten soft or your kitchen is hot. Place first half on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Spoon filling on, leaving a 1.5-inch border. Cut second dough into on the diagonal into strips, whatever width you’d like. Lay every other strip over rhubarb filling in one angled direction. Form a lattice with remaining strips in the opposite direction. Trim strips so that they’re flush with bottom crust area. Fold crust over the lattice top and filling all around the pie, crimping to tighten the seal. Brush with an egg wash (1 egg, beaten lightly with 1 teaspoon water) and sprinkle with coarse or raw sugar. Bake for about 25 minutes, until golden all over. Let cool to warm before cutting into squares.

Source: https://smittenkitchen.com/2019/03/extra-flaky-pie-crust/

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