Failed khachapuri made with NYTimes directions and Adjarian style
Did you know that the Soviet Union once shut off electricity to what is now Georgia, plunging the region into stone age darkness for 14 years? Or that the country’s current leader is an oligarch who has built an enormous modern palace on a hill overlooking the capital city of Tblisi? Both these factoids were provided to me by my Georgian hostess at a B&B where I stayed awhile back, but oddly I can find no reference to either on the internet.
Her khachapuri, though, were very real. She stuffed these rounds of dough with sulugumi cheese and slapped them on the sides of her barrel-shaped Georgian clay oven; when done, they fall to the base of the oven and she scoops them up with a special tool. Served with Georgian honey, they were a decadent treat and I resolved to make them one day for myself.
Today, however, was not the day. There are lots of recipes for khachapuri dough but I decided to play it safe and use Maria Burros’ from the New York Times. I knew I was trouble in the kneading process. The dough in the Kitchenaid mixer was oddly rubbery and refused to show the stretchiness of good gluten development, even when I added extra liquid and hand kneaded after. I used a mixture of 1 part feta to 3 parts mozzarella/provolone mix and followed a strange instruction to fold the dough in on the cheese then pleat it to create a knob on top. The result was crusty and unpleasant and not cheesy enough. Next time I’ll stuff individual rolls following the technique for pupusas and bake them at a considerably lower temperature than Burros’ 375 degrees.
I also tried making Adjarian khachapuri, the better known form of the bread in which the dough is formed into a boat with the cheese in its open middle and an egg broken into it at the last minute. Tearing the bread apart and using it to scoop out the melted cheese and egg must be a sensuous experience—I was inspired to do this baking experiment by a Facebook post from my friend Melanie about her own encounter with a cheesy boat—but not with my sorry dough. Also, the sides of my boat weren’t high enough and I overcooked my egg (and I used just the yolk, whereas I would add an entire raw egg next time).
So, failure, but we can learn from it. I am annoyed by food blogs which take the stance that the blogger is an expert and never makes a mistake, and their technique for boiling water or peeling a tomato is the only way to do it. I will get back on the horse, but not right away. Meanwhile, the dog is enjoying my scraps.
. I love your style Burnt. My theory of cooking is to experiment and enjoy the process. I am convinced that because I take chances that it ten experiments eight or nine of them will be great and the others will end up in the dogs plate or the rubbish bin. That is the price to pay to get the first eight or nine successes. Heck in baseball you are a GREAT hitter if you are successful 30% of the time. If I hit at 80 or 90 percent I am still at least a B plus or A minus on the whole. Go for it.
Thanks for the kind words. I feel like cooking is different from other experiments because, food. It’s precious. I’d be content if I had a 2 or 3 out of 10 success rate with great dishes so long as the rest were at least edible. This bread was equivalent to hitting into a game-ending double play on the last game of the world series with your team about to go ahead.
Burnt, I imagine you are batting higher than .300, I know your ability in the kitchen. You may just have higher standards of success than I do. I made a stew the other day using “black eye” peas and some left over pieces of ham. Every day I changed the stew by adding something different to it. One day I threw in some beet tops, another day I added spicy peppers and toasted sesame oil. I considered that three separate dishes, because the textures and flavors were so different. I have a bit of this left over that I will enjoy today. I most likely will add something new to the dish, maybe some curry flavors. I have been practicing making my own curry by blending spices until I am happy with the aroma. I like that better than purchasing a bottle or package of “curry powder.” If you blend turmeric, ginger, red pepper, coriander, cumin, cloves, cardamom, and make your own “curry” seasoning. Try adding different amounts of spices until you discover an aroma that pleases your nose. I learned this from the film “The Mistress of Spices” in 2005 starring Aishwarya Rai. I count every iteration of this stew a success until I add something that ruins it. So this one experiment has already given me four successes.
By beet tops, do you mean beet greens? That is one of the few items I simply cannot eat. The rest of your experiments sound wonderful.
I love beet greens. I remove the stems and stir fry them the same way I would prepare Swiss Chard. Last week I cooked beet greens with a curly kale, both from the Centennial farm. The slightly bitter kale with the sweet beet tops, and a bit of garlic were delightful. I always find a place for beet tops in a stew or by themselves. It is not as tasty as the beets but they are a delight in their own way.