Muffaletta Turnovers; Gibanica; RAC

  I cut the brie (for the Soft Cheese Pie into what I thought would be 8 ounces, but it was a little over, so I had to eat about an ounce of it.  I did cut the rind off, before I even read the blurb at the beginning.  I just assumed that since we are "blending" it with cream cheese and egg yolks, that only the creamy inside would work...  I just love brie!  It's so creamy and buttery - it's like a food hug.

     One of the eggs I opened had what appeared to be blood in the whites.  I probably shouldn't mention this publicly, because I used it anyway.  I did some "research" on line.  I didn't find any convincing authority either way, but there were several people who said they ate them anyway, and they were still around to report that on line, so I decided to give it a shot.  Still, it weirded me out, and I kept thinking I was seeing red everywhere.  When I blended the yolks in with the cheeses, there would be an air pocket, and I would stop the Vitamix and check it out to make sure it wasn't discolored yolks.  It didn't help that some of the items I read on the Internet said it was because the egg was fertilized, and it was starting to become a chick.  Now, I certainly don't believe that, but it got me paranoid, just the same.
     Then, I made another batch of classic crust dough. They just don't seem to last as long when I am using 1/2 a recipe at a time instead of the usual 1/4.  I actually had the foresight this time to check the next time a recipe called for this dough and realized that it was going to be another half-recipe, so I packaged the other half all together.  The last few times I have made this dough, I packaged the other half in two portions before putting it in the freezer.  Then, the next week, I would end up taking two packages out of the freezer.

     Next on the list of things to do was the garlic olive oil sauce.  I always skip the parsley for this sauce.  As I may have mentioned before, I just don't see the point.  I divided the recipe by four (sort of).  I used 1/2 cup of olive oil, 4 heaping spoonfuls of pre-chopped garlic (my interpretation of 4 cloves of garlic), and then I just kept sprinkling the hot pepper flake into the pan until I thought it looked good.  I added even extra, because I think our hot pepper flake has lost a little of its oomph.  If I had been really daring I would have used my home-made pepper flake (I made this from dehydrating all of the hot peppers left in my garden at the end of the season, so it's this lovely green, gold, red concoction, and it is HOT HOT HOT!).
     I still hadn't found Mortadella yet.  I had tried Cub and Festival.  Well, Jeff tried Festival.  I called him on his way home from work on Tuesday and asked him to look for it.  He said, "What?!  We don't need any more CHEESE!" 
     On a side note, he was a little cheese-shy at that point, because over the weekend, I had decided to make home-made macaroni-and-cheese.  I based my recipe on an au gratin potato recipe, that I think I had perfected.  When we sat down to eat it, I didn't feel it had quite the cheesiness that I was looking for.  I made a different batch on Sunday with different proportions of cheese, and I think I overdid it, because while it still didn't have that sharp flavor I was going for, it became gloppy, because there was just too much cheese.  We ate it anyway.  It tasted good, it just wasn't texturally pleasing.  And, of course, when I made reach of these batches, I made an entire pan-ful for the two of us, and we had been eating it for meals ever since....
     I explained that it was a meat, like bologna or salami, and he needed to check with the deli.  Of course, that was followed by spelling and repeating, but I think he got the idea.  They didn't have it, but they had cappicola (this is a pancetta-like pork product that is spicey - Jeff fell in love with it after hearing about it on the Sopranos)!  I asked Pam to check around for it in her adventures before then.  She asked if it was cheese, too.
     We had discussed how much, weight wise, would make 1 cup of diced Mortadella.  She guessed half a pound.  I told her I thought it was less, because if it is diced, there is going to be a lot of air holes in the cup.  I measured out my diced salami and my diced ham.  I forgot to weigh them individually, but together they weighed almost exactly 10 ounces.  I guessed that the salami was actually more than 5 ounces on its own, because it was really dense.
     On the note of the salami, I bought Cub's brand.  It was surprisingly delicious!  They weren't kidding, though, when they labeled it "hard" salami.  If I cut that every day for next couple of weeks, I would have the most sinewy forearms around!  It is garlicky and peppery, and slightly slick on my tongue.
     I had some Provolone on hand from a previous pizza (stromboli?) that I was going to use, so I didn't buy any more.  It really wasn't three cups - it was more like two and a quarter (9.8 ounces).  I thought it would be plenty enough, though.  Especially, if Pam doesn't find any mortadella.  Well, I guess even if she does - the mortadella is going to add to the fat quotient anyway.

     When I turned onto my street after work on Thursday, Jeff was parking on the street, and Pam was parked across the street in her big red truck.  It was like my own personal welcoming committee!
     I was hoping to hurry and whip up those egg whites before anybody saw them.
     Pam had said that she was unable to find Mortadella at the places she had gone to.  She said she even went to a meat place, and they didn't have it either.  They told her that they used to carry it, but it was such a slow seller that they just stopped.  When she went to Lund's, they told her she didn't want that anyway.  They didn't have it either, and time had run out.  They sold her some Hebrew bologna and some pistachios. 
     I set her up in the former dining room with some bowls to start shelling, so I could whip up the whites.

     I whipped up the whites, and they looked fine - normal...  I felt better about using them.
     I grabbed my cheese-egg yolk mixture out of the fridge and wondered how that was going to fold into the egg whites.  It seemed semi-solid.  I gave it a go anyway.

     It wasn't as solid as I thought, and it incorporated into the egg whites just fine.
     Once I had pushed the KitchenAide back into its resting place, I asked Jeff if he would make us a drink.  He acquiesced and asked what it was we would like.  When I told him I wanted him to make THE drink of the week, he grumbled but got out the shaker and started working on it.

     When he got to adding in the orange bitters, he said it was "way too much."  He halved it.  He offered a tip while he was mixing, too.  He said it is very important to put the alcohol into the shaker before adding the ice, because you may not have room in the shaker for all of the liquor once you have filled it with ice.  He is very wise.  That particular tip may have formulated in his mind from watching me overfill the shaker on several occasions (usually Thursdays, when I am trying to make enough for three thirsty girls).
     He placed the two martini glasses on the counter and started pouring.  It was a very dark, almost, brandy-colored liquid.  It must have been from the red vermouth and the bitters.  One sip, and it was evident that even cutting the butters in half might not have been enough of an alteration.  I don't particularly care for sweet drinks, but this was over the top bitter.  I thought maybe the second sip would improve tghings a bit, but it didn't work.  I looked over at Pam.  She had that forced smile on her face that she gets when she really hates something but doesn't want the people she is with to realize it.  Or maybe she does want them to know it, and she puts that smile on so she doesn't have to verbalize it.
     I asked if we should keep drinking it and then make a new one or put what we had back into the shaker and add something sweet to it to see if we could make something that we might prefer.  "We could drink it," she said, "but life's too short."  I decided to pour mine back in first and dress it up, taste it to see if it had improved.  I added a little cherry whiskey to it.  I figured by adding that it would be somewhat like a Manhattan with a little orange twist.  I thought it vastly improved the beverage.  I gave Pam a sip.  She still wasn't crazy about it.  I took her drink and added that and some orange liqueur, hoping to sweeten it up to her liking.  I think I was successful. 
     Right about then, Jennifer walked in the oranges I had asked her to bring to garnish the drinks and asked what she was missing out on.  We explained the situation, and I made her yet another version.  I combined gin, orange liqueur, and a splash of the whiskey - basically the same thing that Pam and I had, but without the bitters and in a different proportion.  It is too bad I didn't measure anything and didn't pay any attention to how much of each I put in, because I think that was the best version.  She proceeded to garnish all of our drinks with slices of the orange that she had brought.

     Pam started rolling out the dough for the calzones, and Jennifer started on cubing the Mortadella.
     I was still trying to figure out how I was supposed to "dip" the phyllo sheets into the egg concoction.  Pam suggested that I just lay the sheet in the pan and spread some of the goo over each sheet.  That was what I did.  It was difficult keeping track of how many sheets I had in there, because of all of the activity going on.  Roger was in, making his drink, Jeff came in and refilled his, the kids were coming in to negotiate t.v. shows they would be allowed to watch, and Pam and Jennifer were asking questions about their assigned tasks.  I still have no idea how many layers I put in.  I guessed at when I had 6 layers in and poured the rest of the stuff over the top of what I had and started layering the additional six sheets and butter.  Once I had it all compiled, I put it into the oven.  After I closed the door, I had a revelation:  I forgot to add the half and half!  Again, we were going to have the diet version of the recipe.  I guess if I had remembered the half and half, I may have been able to "dip" the phyllo sheets in it.  Maybe I need to read the recipes closer next time.
     It turned out beautiful anyway.  It was golden brown with a crispy exterior.  I think that the bottom had gotten a little overcooked.  I wonder if the finished product would have crisped up as nicely if I had remembered the cream.  We will never know now.

     Jennifer progressed to building the turnovers.  I brought her the olive salad and some previously frozen roasted peppers from my garden that I had chopped for her.  She chopped the salad, brushed the garlic sauce over the doughs, and loaded them up.

     Once she had them all put together and pierced for venting, I decided to put an egg wash on them.  I beat a whole egg and added a little half and half to it (see, I didn't buy it for nothing) and brushed it over the top.  I wasn't going to have any pasty-looking turnovers this week!

     And it worked beautifully.  They were glossy and golden, just as I had hoped they would be.
     I had sort of mentally poo-pooed this Muffaletta recipe, because it seemed sort of ordinary.  However, it was anything but!  The olive salad had some hot peppers in the mix, along with pickled garlic, and some blue and feta cheeses.  The salami, ham, bologna, provolone mixture was creamy and spicy, and the garlic just jacked everything up a level.  It was fantastic!  Each bite brought a different flavor element than the next.  The pistachios were barely perceptible.  They added a textural element that was interesting, but the flavor of them was completely lost in all of the different spices.

     The cheese pie needed salt, but other than that it was delicious!  As I mentioned before, the bottom was a little darker than I had hoped, but it didn't have that burnt flavor.  It was a little chewy, but the star of the dish was the creamy, warm, tangy cheese that lay beneath the crispy top.  It was buttery and almost sweet and definitely rich - even without the half and half.