The Barefoot Kitchen Witch

What the Catbirds Didn't Eat

I also wrote yesterday that the birds and I were battling practically beak a mano over the ripe cherries, and that, by virtue of CHEATING, the birds were kind of winning.  Okay, maybe I didn't write that at all, but I wrote something like it and also mentioned that I managed to pick about two cups (after pitting) of sour cherries, and that will probably be all we humans get this year from that tree.

Well, it also happened that while I was at the grocery store earlier in the day, I'd picked up a bag of cherries.  Bill loves cherries, so I figured Happy Father's Day to him.

And then, once I'd picked what I could of our sour cherries, I figured I could make a pie or something.

I didn't make a pie.  I made a cobbler.  I needed 8 cups of pitted cherries (or any kind of fruit), and by some happy quirk of fate, I had exactly that - my 2 cups of the sour cherries plus the bag from the store gave me exactly 8 cups.  I mixed them all with the juice of half a lemon and 3/4 cup of sugar and poured them in a 13 x 9 inch pan.

Then I made the cobbler topping, which was, if I remember right, 3 cups of flour, 3/4 tsp salt, 3 T sugar, 1 T baking powder, 3/4 t baking soda...you whisk those together and then, either in a food processor or with a pastry blender or your hands or your dueling sabers - whatever you prefer - cut in 7 T cold butter and 3 T shortening until the mixture is like coarse sand...and then you pour in enough buttermilk to bring the whole thing together into a nice dough.  Don't overmix it.  (Oh, and the recipe came from Christopher Kimball's Yellow Farmhouse Cookbook, which hasn't made it back to the shelf yet.  I think his recipe also called for lemon zest (optional) and some minute tapioca mixed into the fruit, but I didn't have the tapioca and I didn't feel like zesting (?  how lazy can I be?), so I didn't use those.

Anyway, you bake the fruit first, at 350 degrees F for 20 minutes, and then you take balls of the dough and plop them all over the top of the fruit, and then sprinkle 2 T of sugar over the whole thing.  (I used sparkling sugar - it stays big and glittery.)  Then you raise the oven temp up to 425 and bake another 15 minutes or so (I think I went 20) until the fruit is bubbling and the topping is golden brown.

 

Let it sit for 20 minutes or so, and then serve, warm, with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.  But hey, who am I to tell you how to eat it?  You could also serve it with cherry vanilla ice cream if you want...or maybe...after a meal of oven roasted catbirds.

I'M JUST KIDDING.

We had Cornish Hens.  They're plumper than catbirds.

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

 I think this may be one of my husband's and my son's favorite desserts.  That was part of the reason I bought so many strawberries and so much rhubarb at the farmers' market last Friday - some for the jam, and definately some for pie. 

I have any number of books with recipes for Strawberry Rhubarb Pie, and this time I thought "I'll use that one - it's got to have good pie recipes in it."  And I pulled Christopher Kimball's The Yellow Farmhouse Cookbook off a shelf.  Looked up the recipe, turned to the page - and guess what.  I've already used his recipe and liked it enough to put a star next to it.  Well okay, then! 

(Even better, when I was looking up the recipe, I noticed that there are quite a number of recipes for jams and the like, including a rhubarb-ginger jam that sounds pretty interesting.  I might have to make a batch of that next weekend.)

Anyway, while I was cutting up fruit for the jam, I also cut up the quantities I needed for the pie.  3 cups of strawberries and 3 cups of rhubarb.  Simple enough, right?

Would you look at the color of those berries?  SO red.  The slices make me think of Valentine's Day hearts...only prettier, sweeter, and much better for you.

But I digress.

The rest of the filling consists of 1 teaspoon of orange or lemon zest (I used lemon), 2 teaspoons of lemon juice, 3/4-1 cup of sugar (I went with the smaller amount), 3-5 tablespoons Minute tapioca (did I even have Minute tapioca?  Apparently I did.  Probably from whenever I first made this pie) (oh, and I used 4 1/2 tablespoons of the tapioca), and 2 tablespoons butter (optional) (I used it).

You mix all that together and let it sit for fifteen minutes - I'm assuming that's to let the tapioca absorb some of the liquid.  The more tapioca you add, by the way, the firmer the cooked fruit will be, so if you like a very oozy pie, go with less tapioca, and if you like a nice, picture-worthy slice of pie, go with more. 

Oh, and at this point I also started preheating the oven - 400 degrees F.

I had already made the pie crust, so it was already rolled out and in my pie pan at this point.  I used the crust recipe from the same book - it's 2 1/2 cups AP flour, 3/4 tsp salt, 2 T* sugar, 12 T unsalted butter, chilled in the freezer for at least 30 minutes, 8 T all-purpose vegetable shortening, chilled in the freezer for 30 minutes, and 7-8 T of ice water.

* "T" = tablespoons

I combined the flour, salt and sugar in a food processor, added in the butter and shortening (which I'd cut into small pieces), pulsed that til the mixture looked kind of sandy with a smattering of little pea-sized lumps of fat mixed in, then drizzled the ice water in, a little at a time, until the dough started to come together.

Then I dumped it out on the counter and kneaded it ever so briefly until it formed a ball.  I cut the ball in half, rolled one half out and lined my pie pan with it.  Rolled the other ball out and formed a rough circle, which I wrapped in plastic and folded in quarters to chill.  I put the pan and the folded disk of dough back in the fridge to chill.  (I skipped the "chill the dough first" step - I was kind of pressed for time.  I figured it could chill just fine already in the pan.)

After the fruit sat for about fifteen minutes,

Next I carefully unwrapped and unfolded my disk of dough and gently placed it on top of the fruit.

Nighty-night, little fruit filling!

Then I trimmed the excess dough and tried to decide what to do with the edges.  Sometimes I'm in a fancy mood, other times I'm more interested in quick and easy.

I went with quick and easy - I just pressed-and-sealed the edges with the tines of a fork.  Then I cut a little vent in the center and folded the corners back - turns out I have to get a little fancy after all - and cut a few slits in the rest of the top crust, and there - pie crust is born.

Then I whisked an egg and a bit of water together, and took out my Sparkling White Sugar.  More fancyness.  I painted the crust with the egg, sprinkled on the sugar, and at last, into the oven went the pie.

When you put the pie in, you drop the oven temperature down to 350 degrees F.  The pie gets a nice shot of really hot from the original 400 degrees, but at 350, you won't be serving blackened crust.

Oh - and put the pie on a cookie sheet with a lip - you really don't want sugary fruit juices spilling onto the floor of your oven. 

 Because those juices will spill over.

Bake the pie until the top is golden brown and the filling is bubbly in the center.  (That's why I cut the little vent in the middle - so I can spy on the filling.)

I love the drippy syrup pictures. 

Below is a picture of an actual bubble taking place in the center of the pie.  It's right there on the bottom left part of the fruit portion in my little spy hole.  Try to contain your excitment.

After the pie came out of the oven we had to leave for the banquet, so no pie that night.  But the next morning Alex and Julia had some for breakfast.

Julia had whipped cream on hers.

And on her face.  She's so ladylike, isn't she?

Alex gave his official, professional pie eater opinion.  He loves pie.

And, of course, Julia gave her opinion.  It had to be the opposite of Alex's, regardless of her personal feelings.

Bill finally had a piece last night and said it was fabulous.  Sorry - no picture of him. 

And that's the story of this pie.  I might make one again next weekend.  I give it a thumbs-up, too.

Neopolitan Easter Pies (Two Versions - Barley and Rice)

I know, Easter was last month.  Move on, Jayne, move on.

Okay, I will, but first I need to post this.  It ties up the loose end of this brief post.

I'd offered to bring something to brunch at my cousin's house on Easter, and I was asked to make a rice pie or a cheesecake.

I love cheesecake, but I've never actually made a rice pie before, so that's what I went with.  Back when I was a teenager and used to work at an Italian/Seafood restaurant, I remember the time around Easter as being filled with gorgeous egg breads - those braided breads with colored eggs woven into the strands of dough - and the Easter pies.  That's when I first tasted them.  I think there may have been two kinds - one with rice and one just ricotta.  I could be wrong - it was a long time ago and I wasn't as aware of food details as I am now.  I do remember, however, that they tasted fabulous.

And I wanted to capture some of that for Easter.

I looked through my Italian cookbooks and found several recipes for Easter pie, or rice pie...and the one I chose was actually not for a rice pie at all - it was a Neopolitan Easter Pie, from Carlo Middione's The Food of Southern Italy.  And it makes sense that a Southern Italian recipe wouldn't have rice - rice was a bigger staple of the Italian diet in the north.  So what was used instead?  Wheat.  Whole wheat berries.  Soaked for days.  Yes, days.

Well, in my last-minute way, I didn't have a whole lot of days to soak anything.  Fortunately for me, Chef Middione offered a substitute - barley.  Shorter soaking time, shorter cooking time.  Perfect.  And I had barley, too.

But there was something else to consider, too.

My cousin's wife (would that make her my cousin-in-law?) went gluten-free a while ago, and barley contains gluten.  Rice doesn't.  So I could sub in rice for the wheat/barley in the recipe, right? 

Except that I really, really wanted to stay true to the recipe, or as close as possible without soaking wheat berries for days and days.  So I figured I'd make half rice and half with barley.  Simple enough, isn't it?  Unless you're me, and then you don't just cut the recipe in half - no - you DOUBLE it.  So instead of making four 8" tarts, you're making 8 of them.  Don't look for logic there - it packed up and left long ago.

So here we go - I'm going to post the recipe for the crust first, and then my two variations for the filling.

Now's your chance to get a snack.  There's a lot to cover.

All set?  Okay.

First, the pastry dough.  "Pasta Frolla" or Tender Pastry.  The recipe in the book is for two 9-inch tarts.  Since I was making 8, I quadrupled the recipe.  Yikes.  But I'll just post the original recipe here.

The funny thing about this pastry recipe (to me) is that the butter is at room temperature when you add it to the flour/salt/sugar mixture.  I read it twice, just to be sure.  But yes - room temperature butter.  AND, you don't chill it before rolling it out.  I know!  I kept looking back at the book.  Are you SURE?  And the book never wavered.

Here are the ingredients:

2  1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup sweet (unsalted) butter at room temperature

Optional:  rind of 1 lemon

4-5 tablespoons ice water (or use wine or whiskey, but be sure it is cold.

And now, here are the directions, straight from the book:

"If you are using a marble slab to make the dough by hand, place the flour, sugar, salt and lemon rind if desired) in a mound.  Then use your fingers in a circular motion to create a "well" in the mound of flour.  Break the butter into little pieces about the size of grapes and throw them into the well.  Then pull some of the flour onto the butter and combine them.  Do this very quickly and do not overmix.  Add the water and very quickly mix the dough to that it just holds together.  This should take about 1 minute.  (You can do all of this in an electric mixer using the paddle or flat beater attachment.  I find that a food processor makes the dough too wet, and I don't like the results.  Use one if you wish and if you know what you are doing.)  When the dough just holds together and is not crumbly, wrap it in plastic or foil and let it rest out of the refrigerator, but in a cool place, for about half an hour.

roll out the dough with a heavy rolling pin, but do not put too much pressure on it.  It will be quite fragile.  Lightly dust with flour as needed to keep the dough from sticking to the marble or to the rolling pin.  If the dough breaks, do not be concerned because it is easily repaired.  Simply push it together again, or break a piece off the edge and use it like you would moeling clay to repair any tears or breaks.  Gently but firmly, grasp the top edge of the dough and lay it over the rolling pin.  Then roll the dough and the pin toward you and keep rolling the dough onto the pin.  Put the dough into a tart pan.  Lay the loose end of the dough on the edge of the pan and then unroll the dough slowly and gently, in the reverse direction and let the dough fall into the pan.  Adjust it after it is in the pan, if necessary.  If the dough breaks while you are putting it in the pan or even afterward, simply repair it as described earlier.  Prick the dough, at random, all over the bottom with an eating fork.  Cool the dough in the refrigerator for at least 3 hours. 

When you are ready to bake the crust, put wax paper or lightweight foil on top of the dough.  Fill the tart with dry beans or rice as a weight to keep the dough from ballooning while baking.  Medium-sized gravel also would be good to use.  It never breaks or becomes rancid because you can soak it in detergent occasionally, rinse it well, and reuse it indefinitely.  Gravel is cheap and readily available at pet or hardware stores."

Got all that memorized?  Good.  Here are the photos and my own commentary....

OH!  And keep in mind as you look through these - I had quadrupled the recipe.  Because I am crazy.

 

Okay, here are the ingredients (except the salt, which I forgot to include in the photo, but not in the actual making of the dough.  The butter is ROOM TEMPERATURE, which was so odd to me.  But anyway.

 

Here's all the dry ingredients, whisked together.  Oh, and I opted to use a bowl instead of the countertop (I don't have a marble slab) because it's easier to clean up after.

 

Here are my little grape-sized blobs of butter that I "threw" into the flour. 

 

I combined them with a pastry cutter, rather than my fingers.  Just because.

 

And here is the mixture, partly done with the adding of the water.  You can see it's starting to hold together in places...I mixed the water in with a fork, by the way. 

 

Aha - this is what we're after.  It holds together, but it's still ragged and crumbly.  Perfect.  I divided the whole mess into two balls and put them in ziploc bags.  

 

And then I put the bags in "a cool place" per the directions in the book.  Not in the fridge, as I usually would. 

 

I figured the music room was a pretty cool place.  Heh heh.

 

After the half hour or so was up, I divided each ball of dough into four pieces.   Then I gently rolled each piece out into a rough circle about 1/8 of an inch thick and pressed each one into an 8" tart pan.  Well, they weren't exactly tart pans, but they were 8".   

 

Actually, 7 were in the disposable pie pans.  I did make one in a tart shell.  For the pictures.

 

And then they all went into the fridge while I made the filling. 

 

Here are 6 of 'em.  The other two were on a lower shelf. 

Okay?  Now it's onto the filling.

And here's where it might get more confusing, so bear with me.

The recipe for Pasteria Napolitana, or Neopolitan Easter Pie, includes soaking soft spring whole wheat berries for at least 3 days before you even combine anything with anything else.  Yikes!  I didn't have 3 days to soak wheat berries...I didn't even have wheat berries to soak!  Fortunately the recipe says you can substitute barley.  Phew!  I have plenty of that.

But, like I think I said at the beginning, I also wanted to make this with rice.  And that's why I doubled the recipe (instead of being smart and making one recipe half barley/half rice) - so I could make two versions.

I stayed as true to the original recipe as I could, but happily skipped over the whole soaking of wheat berries part.

Here, to start with, are the original ingredients as listed in the book, for ONE batch (4 tarts), with my notes in parentheses and in italics.:

1 ^1/4 cups soft spring whole wheat berries, or use barley, (or use Arborio rice)

1 teaspoon lard (I used unsalted butter)

2 ^1/4 cups milk, or q.b. (q. b. stands for quanto basta which means "enough" or "the amount that is needed.")

1 ^1/4 cups granulated sugar

12 oz Ricotta

Zest of 2 lemons

1 tablespoon orange flower water

1/3 cup candied orange peel, finely chopped (I didn't use this - I used some chopped up dried fruit - apricots and peaches, I believe.  I thought about using dried ginger, but left that out this time.)

5 large egg yolks

2 recipes Tender Pastry

3 large egg whites

2 additional large eggs for brushing dough (I didn't double this part)

Granulated sugar for sprinkling, q.b.

~~~

Barley Version:

Rinse the barley well, until the water that runs through it comes out clear. 

Then cook according to the package directions.  Don't overcook.

Arborio Rice Version:

Cook according to package directions for stovetop cooking.  (You're not making risotto.) 

Don't overcook.

~~~

Okay then.  The rest of the recipe is the same for either version.  Some of the pictures that follow may be of the rice version, some may be of the barley version - I'm just using whichever pictures look better for a given step.  And rather than keep typing "barley/rice" or something like that, I'm just going to say use rice because it's a whole two letters shorter and I'll finish typing this post SO much quicker that way.

~~~

Combine rice with butter (or lard), milk and sugar in a pot

and simmer until the mixture starts to thicken and the rice absorbs most of the milk. 

Set the mixture aside to cool.  As it cools, it will thicken a bit more and the grains of rice should look moist and plump.  The rice will continue to absorb liquid as it cools.  It shouldn't be hot or warm for the next step. 

** If you want to speed up the cooling process, put the rice mixture in a bowl and set that into a larger bowl half-filled with ice water.  Stir the rice mixture often until it is cooled.

In a large bowl, combine the Ricotta with the lemon zest, orange flower water (or Fiori di Sicilia if you have that), vanilla, candied orange peel (or dried fruit - whatever you're using), and egg yolks. 

 Add the cooked and cooled rice, and mix everything well.  Set it aside for later use.

If you haven't already done so, roll out your dough and line your tart pans. 

Combine all the trimmed pieces of dough and roll these out into a rectangle about 1/8 of an inch thick.  With a crimp cutter if you have one, (or a pizza wheel if you don't), cut the strips of dough about 3/8 inch wide and about 1/8 inch longer at each end than the diameter of the tart shells.  These will be the lattice work on the tarts when they are finished.

I didn't have enough dough for lattice work on each tart.  I think it's because the sides of the foil pans were higher than a standard tart pan AND because my one real tart pan was 9 inches instead of 8.  But that's okay.  But that was just me.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F and move the rack to the middle of the oven.  (Or, if you're a crazy person like I am, set two racks so they split the oven into thirds.)  Beat the egg whites until they are fairly stiff. 

Put 1/4 of the egg whites into the Ricotta and rice mixture to soften it,

 

then fold in the rest of the beaten egg whites. 

Fill the tarts with the mixture, dividing it equally among the shells. 

"Make a lattice design on top of the pastiere with the strips of dough. 

 

(As you can see, I didn't have enough dough to make a really nice lattice.  But you get the idea.)

With the point of a small knife, push the end of the dough strip against the dough that lines the tart pan and the filling itself.  This will hold the lattice in place and make the pastiere neat.  Beat the 2 additional eggs, and brush the tops of the pastiere with the wash.  Sprinkle on some granulated sugar, and bake the pastiere for 45 minutes, or until the crust is just golden.

 

(Obviously a crazy person lives here...)

The pastiere are best when cooled and barely warm.  They are very good cold, too.  The pastiere will keep, covered in plastic wrap, for 3 days in the refrigerator."

 

I know my write-up of this pie was kind of scattered - if you have questions, please ask and I'll clarify whatever garbled mess I've made. 

I noticed that the finished rice pie is much prettier - the barley pie looked kind of oatmealish in color - because of the bran on the barley.  But flavor-wise, both were very good.  I also thought the flavor actually improved after a day or two.

 

P.S.  By the way, the Ricotta I used?  It is THE most wonderful stuff I've ever had.  From Narragansett Creamery.  "Renaissance Ricotta."  I found it at Dave's Marketplace, and here's a list of other places that sell it.  If you like Ricotta, you MUST look for it!  It's smooth and creamy and I seriously could just eat a pound of it all by myself.  With a big spoon.  It's really, really nice.

 

Sesame Puffs

 

Bill and I used to cook together a lot BC (before children).  Usually on the weekends, when we had plenty of time, we'd try out a bunch of recipes at a time and make feasts four ourselves.  The leftovers would feed us for the first half of the following work week.

It was fun.  Even (or especially) in the teeny, tiny closet of a kitchen we had in our first home - a little rented cottage with two rooms:  a downstairs and an upstairs.  Oh, yeah, and the bathroom.  With the icky tub that we couldn't rid of previously existing stains (which had formed around those little rubbery feet and other cutesy non-skid shapes you can use instead of a mat.  Yeah.  Real nice.)

Once the kids started showing up, the cooking together thing - at least to that degree - lessened.  Especially when they were very young.  Someone just had to be available for diapers or to keep them entertained or out of the fish tank.  It was just easier for one of us to cook solo.  Which is fine, too.  At least we both like to cook, so it wasn't always and forever me doing it.

But lately we've been drifting back into that cooking together thing.  Kids are big enough to play unsupervised, to use the bathroom unsupervised, and to keep from falling in the fish tank. 

This past Saturday we had one of those cooking evenings.  I was originally only slated to make one of the dishes, but after I finished working on projects in my little sewing area, I ended up overseeing a second dish, and we just hung out in the kitchen, through the prepwork, the cooking, and then after dinner for a while, singing harmonies along with Fleetwood Mac's Rumors CD.

Bill had picked out the menu, and one dish was the Sesame Puffs pictured above.  They were completely different from what we'd imagined.  Both of us were thinking crispy (they're fried), when, in fact, they are more cakey.  They're like old-fashioned doughnuts, really.  Flavored with cardamom and lemon zest, they are subtly sweet with a nutty, toasty sesame crunch on the outside. 

Unfortunately I was too busy slicing phyllo dough (for another dish - I need to re-do that one before I post it - it needs improvement on my part) to take pictures of the process.  In fact, the photos I did take were done this morning of the few we still have. 

Bill hadn't read the little side note thing that said these were actually a dessert, so we just had these along with the other things for dinner, and had his planned dessert FOR dessert. 

But back to the Sesame Puffs.  First of all, I think the name needs to be changed.  They're not - to my way of thinking - Puffs.  They're not puffy at all.  Sure, they puff up a bit when they fry, but still...when I think of something called "puffs" I either think of cheese puffs - light and crispy - or of tissues with lotion for your red, sore nose.  Neither fits.

The recipe comes from a Better Homes and Gardens book called Wok Cuisine:  Oriental to American.  Bill gave me the book for Christmas or my birthday or something waaaaaaaaaaaay back when we were building our collection of Asian cookbooks.  It's funny, though - because it's not thoroughly Japanese, or Thai, or Chinese, and doesn't particularly look Asian, we don't reach for it all that often.  And yet any recipe we've tried has been worth the time and effort. 

Anyway, the recipe can be found on page 109, in the Frying section.  The recipe on the facing page is for "Deep-Fried Pork Cutlets" - which is probably why Bill assumed the Sesame Puffs were savory rather than sweet.

These were simple as anything to make, and I will definitely make them again.  If you feel the need for a bit more sweetness, you could probably dust them with confectioner's sugar, or cinnamon-sugar or - hmmm...this would be interesting...maybe a blend of sugar and a little Chinese 5 spice powder?  Have to try that next time.

Anyway - here's the recipe.

Sesame Puffs

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 T finely shredded lemon peel

1 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp salt

1/8 tsp ground cardamom

1/4 cup unsalted butter

2/3 cup sugar

2 eggs

oil for frying

1 beaten egg white

1 T water

1/2 cup sesame seeds

1.  In a mixing bowl stir together the flour, lemon peel, baking powder, salt and cardamom.  In a mixing bowl beat the butter with an electric mixer on medium to high speed for 30 seconds.  Add sugar; beat til thoroughly combined.  Add eggs; beat til fluffy.  Stir in the flour mixture.  Turn out onto a lightly floured surface.  Knead for 10 to 12 strokes or till dough clings together.  Roll dough into a log about 1  1/2 inches in diameter.

2.  In a wok or 3-quart saucepan heat 1  1/2 to 2 inches of cooking oil to 365 degrees F.  Meanwhile, cut dough into 1/2 inch slices.  Roll each slice into a ball.  Stir together the egg white and the water.  Roll each ball in the egg white mixture, then in sesame seeds to coat lightly.

3.  Fry balls of dough, a few at a time, in hot oil for 3 to 5 minutes or till golden brown and balls begin to expand and crack, turning once.  Using a wire strainer or slotted spoon, remove balls from hot oil.  Drain on a wok rack or paper towels.  Keep warm in a 300 degree oven while frying remaining balls.  Serve warm.  Makes 8 servings.

Lime Thumbprints and a Lime Tart

 

These are the cookies I set out to make.  I'd found it in Martha's magazine, and you can also find the recipe online here.  They're actually supposed to be Key Lime Thumbprints, but the Key limes I bought didn't last too long and I ended up using regular limes.

Anyway, first I made the cookie dough and rolled it into balls.

I doubled the recipe, because I love lime and I figured everyone else would (or should), too. 

I par-baked the cookies, as directed, and then spooned the filling into the little hollows and finished baking.  I ended up making 142 cookies, (according to my notes) but I ended up with a lot of leftover filling. 

And since I figured that was enough cookies, and also since, for me, the ratio of cookie to filling was too skewed in favor of the cookies, I figured I'd make a tart with the rest of it.  I used some of my short dough surplus to make the crust.

Maybe I made my cookies wrong - not enough of a thumbrint for the filling. 

I don't know.  But I was, in the end, glad for the leftover filling.  The tart was yummy.

 

Especially with a generous dollop of whipped cream on top...

     

(Of course you can use canned whipped cream, or use a mixer, but really, it's very quick and easy to do by hand.  Just get a wide metal bowl and whisk in a loop - into the bowl and up and around and in and up - or even back and forth - as fast as you can.  It will thicken.  Oh, and use your bigger arm muscles to do this, not your wrist.  Especially if you have carpal tunnel issues.)

 

You want some, don't you.

 

I thought so.

Chocolate Raspberry Swirl Cheesecake

 

Long overdue, here is the post about the birthday cake I made for my sister at the end of October.

So here we go. 

Usually the only rules for my sister's birthday cake are these:

1.  Chocolate

2.  No little bits of things in the cake (i.e. chocolate chips, nuts, etc.)

3.  Chocolate

4.  And more chocolate

So I was working on that idea, and then I thought...hey, what about cheesecake?  She likes cheesecake.  Chocolate + Cheesecake should = Fabulous.  A quick check with the birthday-girl-to-be, and I was off and mixing.

First, I made the crumb crust.  Now, I don't really like a graham cracker crust.  In fact, with my cheesecake, the less crust, the better.  But still, since some people do like crust, one had to be made.

I had a bag of plain ol' undecorated cookies in the freezer (butterflies, from some time over the summer).  I crushed them in the food processor and mixed in some cocoa powder and some sugar and then some melted butter.

 

 

   

And then I pressed the mixture in the bottoms of two buttered springform pans - one was 6" and the other was 10".  And I wrapped foil around the bottoms of the pans so there won't be any leaking while they bake.

 

 

I baked the crusts for about ten minutes at 350.

Now, onto the fun part.  The cheesecake itself.

I used Dorie Greenspan's Tall and Creamy cheesecake as a guideline, but made some changes to suit what I wanted to do. 

Here's a list of the ingredients:

2 lbs cream cheese, room temperature

1 1/3 cups sugar

1/2 tsp salt

4 large eggs

1 1/3 cups sour cream

4 oz bittersweet chocolate, melted

 

1 12 oz package of frozen raspberries, thawed, pureed, and strained

 

 

   

The cheesecake base is easy to make.  First, preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.  Next, beat the cream cheese in a stand mixer, with the paddle attachment, until it is very soft and creamy.  Add in the sugar and salt, and beat until the mixture is light.  Then add in the eggs, one at a time, scraping down after each egg is fully incorporated.  And finally, on low speed, blend in the sour cream.

Now, divide the batter into two bowls - about 2/3 in one bowl, 1/3 in the other.

Pour the melted chocolate into the larger portion of cheesecake base, and combine.

 

(any of that look familiar?)

Now  pour about half of the raspberry puree into the smaller portion of cheesecake batter and combine.

 

And now you're ready to assemble the cakes.

Pour the chocolate cheesecake batter into the two springforms, filling them about half-way.

 

Pour some of the raspberry cheesecake batter onto the chocolate cheesecake batter, and drizzle some of the remaining raspberry puree on top of that.

 

   

And then run a knife blade through the batter a few times to create some swirls.  Don't overdo it - you don't want to mix it all into one homogenous batter. 

 

 

Okay, now place the springform pans in larger pans (cake pans work nicely) and set them on a center rack in the preheated oven.  Pour water into the larger pans about an inch high.

Bake for about an hour and check the smaller cake - the top should be slightly brown and maybe cracked a bit.  Remove it from the oven.  Check the larger cake about twenty minutes later, and remove when it, too, is slightly browned on top.

 

 

Allow the cheesecakes to cool completely in the pans and then refrigerate for at least 6 hours or overnight.

To remove the springform sides, run a thin knife blade around the edge of the cheesecake to loosen.  Pop open the spring and remove the sides.  Serve the two cheesecakes on separate plates, or set one on top of the other.  Garnish with fresh raspberries or a drizzle of chocolate ganache.

Or write "Happy Birthday" or something equally celebratory on top and throw a party!

Poached Pear Tarte Tatin - In Miniature

 

This post is for everyone who has done a google search for "poached pears" and ended up on my site.  I know the search brings them to this post, which I did back in February of this year for a pre-Valentine's day series of recipes for meals and desserts.  I thought maybe it'd be nice to add another recipe featuring poached pears to the site, and so this is what I came up with.

Tarte tatin is traditionally made with apples.  You cut your peeled and cored apples (Granny Smiths are perfect for this) into wedges and place them in a mixture of melted sugar and butter in an oven-safe pan.  It's nice to arrange the apple pieces in some sort of pattern.  You then cook the whole thing until the sugar is a lovely caramel color and the apples are starting to soften and release their juices and blend together with the caramel.  Meanwhile, you preheat your oven to about 450 degrees F and cut out a circle of either puff pastry dough or regular pie dough.  Puff pastry dough is more dramatic and impressive, but I believe regular pie or tart dough is more traditional.  Either way, you want the circle of dough to perfectly fit the pan you're cooking your apples in.  Once the sugar is a nice dark gold color, you place your circle of dough on top of the apples and pop the whole thing in the oven.  Bake for about 25 minutes, until the dough is golden brown and puffed up nicely (if it's puff pastry dough you've used).  Remove from the oven, let it sit for about 10 minutes to set, and then invert onto a plate.  (That's the exciting part.  One of those "no guts, no glory" moments in life.)  Admire your creation for a minute or two, then cut into wedges and serve as-is or with some vanilla ice cream (the contrast between hot and cold, crispy pastry and creamy ice cream and lush apples is exquisite, by the way).

Simple enough, right?

Well, since I've had so many people looking for poached pear ideas, I thought it would be interesting to incorporate that into a tarte tatin.  And while I was at it, I thought miniature tarte tatins would be fun to do. 

So here's what I did.

I had bought 6 small pears earlier in the week for this dessert.  You want to look for pears (or other fruit - apricots, peaches, plums) that are firm - maybe a shade underripe even - and free of bruises or blemishes.  They'll soften as they poach, so you don't want to start out too soft or else they'll just turn to mush. 

 

Yes, I know.  There are only five.  And they don't look blemish-free, do they.  Well, someone in my household ate one of them.  And they sat around for several days and ripened a bit more than I'd wanted them to.  But you know what?  I still used them. 

Before I started peeling the pears, I put together the poaching liquid.  Now, you've got a lot of leeway in poaching.  You're basically combining liquids, sugar, and maybe some spice or other flavoring agents.  Here's what I used for this batch:

2 cups red wine, 2 cups water, 2 cups white sugar, 1 orange, sliced, about 8 whole cloves.  I put everything in a wide pot and set the pot over medium heat and stir once or twice to make sure all the sugar dissolves.

You can use other spices, vanilla, you don't have to use orange slices, you don't even have to use wine if you don't want or can't have alcohol - dark juices like pomegranate or cranberry or blueberry would work in place of the wine, if you're looking to get that pretty red color.  You also don't have to use red beverages - you can poach pears or anything else in white wine and water, or apple juice and water.  See all the freedom you have?

The main thing is to have enough liquid so your fruit can relax in the fragrant liquid without being crowded, and without sticking up out of the liquid.  To this end, you'll also need to choose a pot large enough to accommodate all the fruit and liquid.  No one likes a crowded tub.

While the poaching liquid was heating up I peeled the pears and sliced them in half, lengthwise.

 

Next, I trimmed the ends - didn't want or need the stem for this dessert - and used a little melon ball tool to scoop out the seed portion of the core. 

You can use a teaspoon or a paring knife to do this as well.

 

Once they were all cut and cored, I placed all the pear halves in the poaching liquid, scooped side up.

 

Do they have to be scooped side up?  Does it matter?  It depends on what your goal is in poaching the pears.  I wanted to make sure the outside part of each pear was nicely colored so that later, when sliced, there would be a pretty red band along the outer edge of each slice.  I wasn't as concerned about the inner, sliced-and-scooped side.  But if you want the entire fruit colored evenly, then you'd need to find a way to submerge the fruit - a cake pan or plate will work - it needs to be just a bit smaller than the diameter of your pot. 

Okay.  So I simmered the pears for about an hour and then shut off the flame.  I didn't want to cook them too long, as they were already on the softer side of ripe, but I wanted them in the liquid long enough to soak in some color.  After I shut off the heat, I just let the pears soak in the liquid while they cooled.

 

While the pears were cooling (this ends the poaching part of our story) I got going on the tarte tatin prep.

First I took out a sheet of puff pastry dough (I'd thawed it in the fridge the day before) and unfolded it, pinched the dough together along the fold lines so it wouldn't split or crack, and then rolled it out a bit so I'd have enough room for the circles I needed.

I used 4 of my 4" mini springform pans.  Why only 4 when I had 5 pears?  Because I could only get 4 circles out of the first rolling of the puff pastry and I didn't have time to thaw the other sheet.  I saved the other pear to snack on. 

Anyway, I traced the springform circle with a sharp paring knife.  With puff pastry, it's important not to compress the dough at the edges - if you want that lovely puff to occur.  If your cutting implement isn't sharp, it could either squish the edges of the dough and prevent them from rising nicely when baked or the knife edge could drag the edges of the dough - which would also result in the same thing.  Either way, your pastry won't rise as high as it would have otherwise.  Kind of like making biscuits.  Sharp and quick cutting is the way to go.

 

Keep your circles of dough covered with some plastic wrap so they don't dry out while you work on the caramel, and put them in the fridge so they stay cold.

Now, like I said at the beginning of the post, usually you cook the apples or other fruit right in the sugar/butter mixture.  However, since I've already poached the pears, to cook them again would turn them to mush, and I don't want that.  Neither do you, by the way.

So I just cooked some butter and sugar together in a pan to make the caramel without the fruit.  I used a stick of unsalted butter and about a cup and a half of light brown sugar.

A couple of things about that.  First of all, I had way more than I needed.  If this happens to you, you can save the extra caramel stuff and warm it up another time to drizzle over ice cream or cheesecake or something like that. 

Second, I would suggest using white sugar instead of brown because it's far easier to guage color changes and caramelization when you're going from white to golden brown than it is when you're going from golden brown to golden brown.

 

I put the butter and the sugar in a pot and set the flame to medium to melt everything.  I stirred the mixture a few times just to help move the process along and prevent burning.  Then I just let the sugar cook for a while.  If I'd been using white sugar, then it would have been easy to tell when to pull it from the stove - I'd just keep an eye on the color.  But with the light brown sugar - it really didn't look different as it cooked, so instead, I went by smell and pulled it right before it would have burned. 

The smell starts changing from a cooked sugary buttery sweetness to something bitter, and if it smells bitter, it will taste bitter, and most of the time, you don't want that.  So I just kept smelling the sugar mixture until it was just starting to change and that's when I pulled it.

But I wasn't just standing there sniffing sugar the whole time. 

I had pans and pears to prep and an oven to preheat to 450 F.  Make sure you've got a rack set in the center of the oven.

 

Here are my poached pears.  Aren't they gorgeous?  They're the jewels of the fruit world, I think.

I decided to partially slice the pears, but leave them connected at the narrow end.  Then I would arrange two of them in each pan.  Kind of like a flower...or a headless baby octopus, depending on how you look at things.

 

And while we're here, take a closer look at the pear - see the dark pink along the edges of each slice, and the lighter, yellowy-white pear color in the center?  That's what I was talking about before, about the color penetrating the flesh and leaving that pretty outline.

I sliced all the pears like this and then put 4 of my little springform pans on a baking sheet.

Once the sugar/butter mixture was where I wanted it, I poured some into each springform pan - not too much - just enough to cover the bottom of the pan by about a quarter to a half of an inch.

 

Now - here is where I issue my warning about working with boiling hot sugar:

BE. EXTREMELY. CAREFUL. THAT. YOU. DON'T. SPLASH. ANY. ON. YOUR. SKIN.  (Or anyone else's, for that matter.)  Boiling sugar is incredibly hot (duh) and more than that, it is STICKY.  If you get some on you, it's going to grab hold and burn you as fast and as painfully as it can before you dunk your arm under cold running tap water.  It hurts, and it scars.  Got that?  You'll get a BIG BOO-BOO.  You might even cry.  Okay?  So be CAREFUL.  Okay, now back to the program.

Once you've got your caramel poured, arrange your sliced pears on top.  Poached fruit is kind of slippery and occasionally uncooperative.  But rest assured that no matter how they look, they will taste amazing.

 

 

Next, place your puff pastry circles on top of the pears, and place your creations in the oven.

 

Bake for about 25 minutes or so (start peeking at 20), or until the tops are nicely puffed and dark golden brown.  Remove the pan from the oven and set it on a rack to cool for about ten minutes before you unmold them.

 

While they're cooling, you'll need to get a few things ready.  Some plates on which to serve your unmolded goodies.  Another plate to use in the flipping process.  And a camera so you can take a picture of the finished product.  It'll be so pretty, you'll want to preserve the memory.  Trust me.

Okay, here's how I unmolded these little guys.  (And, see, if it was a large, pie-sized tarte tatin, you'd have the handle of the pan, probably, to hold onto during the flipping process, but these are too small for that.  So this is what I came up with.) 

Using an oven mitt, (Remember the whole really-hot-sugar warning?  It still applies.) I placed one of the pans on an overturned plate.  Like so:

 

Then you invert your serving plate on top of the springform pan.  Now with one hand on top of  everything and one hand underneath, and with the courage of your confection (sorry) filling your heart, you quickly FLIP THE WHOLE STACK RIGHT OVER and set the serving plate (which is now on the bottom) on the counter.  And you remove the other plate you'd used as a launching pad, and this is what you'll have:

 

Something to keep in mind - while you're flipping the whole thing over, keep some pressure on the plate/pan/plate stack - press while you flip, in other words.  This way nothing will spill or drop or crash to the floor in the process.  Also, the tarte won't wiggle around on the plate, leaving trails of caramel in its wake.  It'll be prettier that way.

And then, with your oven mitt back on your hand, carefully lift the pan straight up and off of the little tarte tatin.

 

Ta-da!  You did it!  Well, okay, I did it.  But you can, too.  Oh- and you may notice that I unmolded my least-perfectly-arranged-pears tarte first.  Just in case anything went wrong.  I did my prettier ones after this trial run.

 

I also used four different styles of plates.  You don't have to do that.  I just did it for the pictures.

   

 

Oops. 

 

You can even see the darker outline from the whole poaching business, if you look closely at the pears....

Well, the next thing you need to do, of course, is taste it. 

 

And since you made more than one, it's nice if you let someone else taste it, too.

 

Remember?  Because it's always nice to share.   And since I'm always telling my kids that, I kind of have to abide by it myself.  Especially with desserts.

Julia wasn't home when these came out of the oven, and Bill was doing a bunch of yard work (this was Tuesday - Election Day - and schools were closed, so Bill and Alex were both home), so I summoned Alex for the initial tasting.  We went outside because the weather was so mild (for November) and I took a ton of pictures while he worked his way through dessert.

I waited while he had his first bite before asking how he liked the dessert.  As always, he thought about it carefully before giving his verdict.

 

 

 

And finally he shared his thoughts.

(Nodding sagely) "...Not bad...for a good little old cooker like you...."

 

Um.  Thanks, Alex.

He liked it well enough to eat all but the last bite - which, he told me, he left on purpose, so I could have some.

 

And what does it taste like, you may ask?  Sweet and dark and complex and juicy and crispy.  The feel of the syrup-soaked puff pastry reminds me of biting into baklava.  But without the nuts.  It's hard to describe - it's like apple pie (or pear) elevated to a higher plane of existence.  You just have to try it yourself.  Maybe you'll come up with a better description. 

So there you go.  Give this little old recipe a try, and you, too, could be lauded as a "good little old cooker" by your family, too!  (My husband simply whimpered and moaned in amazement.  Too busy eating to use words.)

P.S.  I didn't want to fill up this post with all of the pictures, so I made a little slideshow, in case you'd like to view the entire taste-testing panoply.  See below....

This Year's Oktoberfest Dessert - Chocolate Cake, But Not Just Any Chocolate Cake

I know, it's an incredibly long post title.  But it's also an incredibly good cake and deserving of such a lengthy intro.

We had our second annul Oktoberfeast this past weekend.  We made a lot of the same things as last year, like the Sauerbraten, the Spaetzle, and the Sauerkraut.  I wanted to make something for dessert - I think someone else brought a dessert last year - if we even had one.  Anyway.  My first thought was Black Forest Cake.  But I'm not really nuts about it.  The cherries.  So then - still thinking chocolate - I thought - German Chocolate Cake!  Heh heh.  Okay, I think I read somewhere that it's not really German.  I briefly thought I'd go back to the Black Forest cake but I really didn't want it, and yes, it's all about me and what I want.

So I switched gears and started thinking in terms of fruits.  Kuchens.  Apple Kuchen.  Something like that.  So I pulled out my late mother-in-law's index card boxes of recipes and found the bulging section of cakes.  I pulled out the whole batch and started sorting through.  I found a recipe for plum kuchen in her neat, graceful script and set that one aside.  I continued on through the rest of them.  Most weren't even German; they were just recipes that sounded really good for another time.  And then I came across one of the many yellowed newspaper clippings. 

Aha.

The most-requested recipe during Helen Wilbur Richardson's editorship, this rich fudge cake doesn't taste of sauerkraut or beer.  The kraut adds moistness.

Kraut and Beer Fudge Cake

2/3 cup butter or margarine

1  1/2 cups sugar

3 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa

2  1/4 cups sifted all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 cup beer

2/3 cup rinsed, drained and chopped sauerkraut

Cream butter or margarine with sugar.  Beat in eggs and vanilla.  Sift together dry ingredients; add alternately with beer to egg mixture, beginning and ending with flour mixture.  Stir in kraut.

Turn into two greased, floured 8-inch round or square baking pans.  Bake in 350 degree oven 40 minutes or until cake tests done.  Cool on racks, then frost with vanilla or chocolate icing.

If preferred, bake in a tube pan for 60 minutes or until cake tests done.

I looked up Helen Wilbur Richardsardson, and it looks like she is/was the editor of  The Boston Globe Cookbook (most recent edition was the 4th, published in 1996), and I'm therefore guessing she was an editor of, maybe, the food section at The Boston Globe once upon a time.

Anyway - I pretty much had to make this one.  Bill had made beer (a Brown Ale).  And Bill had made Sauerkraut.  How cool would it be to make a cake and incorporate both of those (oddish) ingredients for our dinner, right??  So that's what I did.

 

Here are the ingredients - by the way, I doubled the recipe, so don't be alarmed if you read 3 eggs and you see 6.  I'm just trying to keep people awake on here.

First up, I chopped the sauerkraut.  Bill had started the batch a couple of weeks prior, so this was ready to go.

 

 

I think next time around I may chop it even smaller, or run it through the food processor.  Just to see how that works, texture-wise.

Next, I sifted my dry ingredients together...

 

And while I had the cocoa powder out, I greased my cake pans and dusted them with the cocoa powder. 

I used that instead of flour so I wouldn't have pale flour residue on the sides of the cake.  Next time I think I'll combine flour and cocoa powder, because the cocoa powder alone left a pretty dark coating and the cake looked blackened.

Anyway.  Time to start combining the wet things.

I tossed my butter into the bowl of the stand mixer and beat that for a while in order to soften the butter to the equivalent of room temperature.  It was still on the colder side when I started, and I to warm it up some more. 

One of the things I've noticed is that when your butter is nice and soft, you'll hear a slapping sound as the mixer paddle spins around the bowl - the butter flies from the paddle and slaps against the side of the bowl.  That's when it's properly softened.

 

Next, I added the sugar and creamed that with the butter.

 

Next up...the eggs and vanilla...

Then the dry mixture and the beer, alternating one with the other, and ending with the dry.

 

And finally...the sauerkraut.

And into the assorted pans it went.

 

And into the oven they went.  The smaller pans were done first - about 40 minutes later.  The larger pan took about twenty minutes longer.

     

 

(I apologize - I have no pictures of the cakes after they came out of the pans, nor any once I'd plated two of them on a glass cake stand and glazed them.

This is what I have:

And the verdict?

An overwhelming OH YEAH from everyone that tried it. 

The cake is incredibly chocolatey and moist with a little change in texture here and there (the sauerkraut) that didn't seem to bother anyone.  It was interesting - at first (after I took it out of the oven and one of the cakes stuck to the pan and broke, and therefore I could see the insides really, really well) the bits of sauerkraut were quite visible - little odd bits of white against the dark cake.  But by the next day, the kraut had absorbed the color of the cocoa powder (I assume) and blended right in, so the only remaining evidence of a vegetable was the occasional mystery crunch.

My cakes didn't look as lovely as I'd hoped...plus I broke one of them.  So I made a chocolate glaze and drizzled that over the two layers (the ones that didn't break).  The glaze was pretty good, too, but taste-wise, the cake was perfectly yummy without it. 

(The last-minute glaze consisted of about two tablespoons each of shortening and butter, about 6 oz semi sweet chocolate and (honest) a Hershey bar.  I also dumped in some confectioners' sugar (cup and a half or so) and around a cup of warm milk.)

Anyway, if you're looking for a chocolate cake recipe that's very good, very chocolatey, AND a conversation-starter, look no further.  You've come to the right cake.

Mini Apple Pies

 

Speaking of apples... We had two bags from apple picking day, plus a half a bag of apples I'd bought the week before and still hadn't finished up.  So something had to be done because the fruit flies (already populating our house because of enticing aromas of sourdough starter and ripening tomatoes) were just waiting for the apples to bruise.

I kept intending to make a pie, but the days filled up and I kept putting it off.  And then Alex was invited to sleep over his friend Jack's house (Alex's first sleepover - he's been looking forward to this since the summer when the subject first came up) and we were all invited to dinner as well.  I asked if I could bring something and was asked to bring dessert.  Aha.  Time to make pie.

Well, I already had dough made (use whatever pie crust recipe you like - I used Dorie Greenspan's "Good for Almost Everything Pie Dough"), so all I had to do was peel and chop apples.  And that's where things changed course - I started peeling the apples from the previous week's apple picking trip, and though they were crisp and tasty and all, they were - a lot of them - in various stages of inner decay.  Little bits of brown, or big mushy bits of brown.  Each apple was different.  Which made slicing them uniformly impossible.  So I just cut them into small chunks, about a half inch rough dice, and tossed them in lemon juice.  It took a while.  Sometimes I'd peel a perfectly nice looking apple, and the flesh just beneath the skin would look great too, and then I'd clice the apple in half and the whole inside was brown and icky.  It was quite the adventure.

And, since I knew my yield wasn't going to be enough for a full-sized pie, I decided to make a bunch of mini pies in muffin tins.   I rolled out the dough and used round cookie cutters to cut out a dozen 4" circles and a dozen 3" circles.  I used the 4" ones to line the muffin tins, and then put the tin and the plate of smaller dough circles in the fridge to stay cold.  And I preheated the oven to 400 degrees F.

 

Right about then, Julia decided to help.

She's learned the routine - she has to get an elastic thing for her hair so I can put it in a ponytail, and she has to wash her hands - with soap, Julia - and she has to be clothed, because odds are I'll take pictures.  So she showed up presentable.

She saw the extra pie dough and wanted to "make bread," so I gave her a few tools and let her play.

 

 

 

Once I'd peeled and cut up enough safe-to-eat parts of apple, I mixed them all together with lemon juice, a tiny bit of sugar, and a liberal amount of cinnamon.  Then I filled the muffin tins....

 

And then I put the 3" dough circles on top and pressed the edges together as best I could to seal them.

 

I cut little slits in the tops and brushed them all with an egg wash...

 

Then I put the muffin tin (on a baking sheet, in case there was any bubbling over) into the oven

   

and baked them for around half an hour.  (Sorry - I didn't write it down - basically you want to bake them until the tops are golden brown and there's steam coming out of the little slits.)

 

They smelled really, really good, by the way.

I let them sit briefly (naturally I was doing all this right before we had to leave the house) and then I dug them out of the muffin tin gently slid a knife around each mini pie between the crust and the muffin tin and popped them out.  Or tried to.  They came out easily enough - no sticking - but in some cases the crust was on the thin side and when I tried to pop them out with the knife, I ended up poking through the crust.  Also - and this is something I need to remember for next time - the bottom crusts should have been bigger.  As they were, some didn't completely adhere to the top crusts, and so when I was working on loosening them and popping them out, the top crusts would just come right off.  Not the worst thing in the world, but certainly a flaw I need to fix next time around.

 

Most of them came out fine, however. 

 

And they were definitaly cute.

 

Tasted good, too.

Because, of course, solely for the photographic purposes of this blog, I had to sample one.

 

You know...just so I could take this picture.

I hope you appreciate my sacrifice.

Sweet Potato Creme Brulee

 

I couldn't help it.

I know, I know, I said I wasn't going to make creme brulee for this week's Tuesdays with Dorie, because I've made creme brulee plenty of times and blah blah blah.

But what I didn't mention on Tuesday was that I'd bought heavy cream and made sure I had plenty of eggs on hand just in case.  Just in case I felt like making some.  Because it's so yummy and so easy and so...sigh.  Well anyway.  I had the cream.  And the eggs.  I didn't make this for TWD, but, well, what ELSE was I going to do with the cream?  I mean yeah, I could make ice cream, I guess.  Or plenty of other things.

But I know that deep down inside (in my stomach, where else?) I really wanted to make some creme brulee.

So yesterday that's what I did.  I couldn't post it til now because I didn't like the final pictures I took of the creme once it had been bruleed yesterday, and I ran out of butane for my torch, and so I had to get more butane this morning so I could finish the pictures. 

And why sweet potato?  Well, why not?  Like pumpkin or squash, sweet potatoes lend themselves to desserty use, and I just happened to have two already-baked sweet potatoes in the fridge. 

I didn't use Dorie's recipe, but I did use her cooking method.  Ordinarily I make my creme brulee in a water bath.  Dorie doesn't, at least not in the recipe in the book, so I figured I'd give it a shot her way.  After all, you don't bake a pumpkin pie in a water bath, and that comes out fine, right? 

So now, without further preamble, here is my recipe for Sweet Potato Creme Brulee.

You will need...

2 medium-small sweet potatoes, baked, cooled, peeled and mashed.  (About a cup and a half, more or less, of flesh.)

 

1 pint of heavy cream

3/4 cup milk (I used 2% because I would like to continue to squeeze into my clothes, and I figure the 2% milk balances out the heavy cream.  Doesn't it?)

1/2 cup granulated sugar (brown sugar might be a nice substitution - I'll try that next time)

4 egg yolks

 

(I know, eeew.  "What stubby little fingers she has!")

2 ^_1/2 tsp vanilla

Combine the milk and cream in a pot and bring just to a boil.

Whisk together the sugar, yolks and vanilla.

 

 

 

 

When the milk mixture is ready, slowly ladle about a quarter of it into the yolk mixture, whisking constantly, to temper the yolks. 

Then pour the yolk mixture slowly into the milk mixture, still whisking, until combined.  Finally, gently whisk in the sweet potatoes.  Strain this mixture to get rid of any of the fibrous bits from the sweet potatoes.

 

 

Pour strained custard into buttered ramekins.  

Bake on a parchment-lined baking sheet at 200 degrees F, until center is barely jiggly when you shake the ramekin. 

Mine took an hour and a half.  I know.  That's a long time.  I only used 6 of these little oval baking dishes, and consequently there was a lot of custard in each one.   Next time I'd use 8 of them, which would lessen the bake time.

Allow these to cool to room temperature and then cover and chill 4-6 hours.

Once the custards have chilled, sprinkle about a tablespoon of granulated sugar on top, shake the ramekin or dish to distribute the sugar evenly.

And then, with your newly re-fueled butane torch, start bruleeing. 

 

Now, that was last night when I was trying desperately to brulee three custards for my pictures.  I had a lovely layout all pictured in my mind, and just needed to brulee three of them.  Just three!

But no dice.  Not enough butane.  I got two out of the deal, thanks to a lot of begging and pleading with the fire gods. 

Well, two's better than none, I figured, so I got out my spoon and dug in.

 

I guess that's an okay shot.  But it wasn't what I wanted.  So I switched the bowl around, switched the spoon to my left hand (so I could shoot with my right), and dug in again.  (Oh, the torture I endure, as I eat up the first spoonful...)

 

Hmmm...it doesn't look so bad now as it did when I was first looking at it.

Well anyway, that was it for me yesterday.  I gave some to the kids for dessert after dinner, garnished with one of those Brown Sugar-Pecan Shortbread things I made on Tuesday.  Julia had a few bites and was finished.  Alex, who loves pumpkin pie and similar flavors, dug into his with gusto - a spoon in one hand and the cookie in the other. 

A little while later he called me into the room.

"Mom," he began, painfully.  (He hates to disappoint me by telling me he doesn't like something I've made.  I don't produce enough insulin to handle his sweetness, sometimes.)

"I don't like eating this in foonspuls," he said.  "I just like eating it with the cookie."  

I told him that was perfectly all right with me, and brought him another cookie.

 

"Foonspuls."

He can be unbearably cute.

Anyway.  This morning after dropping the kids off at school, I went to the grocery store for a few things AND picked up some more butane.  I was back in business.

So here we go again. 

 

First bite...

 

That was pretty good....

 

 

Okay, well, the pictures are done.  But there's that partial dug-into creme brulee to deal with now.  I suppose I could put it back in the fridge.  Save it for someone else. 

Naahhh. 

Fostering Banana Ice Cream

 A while ago, Bill asked if I could make banana ice cream.

I said I'd probably need to add some sort of banana flavoring to it, because bananas don't usually impart a lot of flavor.

I put it on the back burner and went about my usual stuff - sourdough and TWD and kittens and all that.

And then the other day I thought of what I could do, and this post is the result.

Bananas Foster (which I've riffed on before and posted about) is a yummy, fancy-schmancy way to showcase bananas and put rum in your dessert.  Right?  And traditionally it's served over vanilla ice cream, right?

Well then!  The next step seemed obvious - I could make a Bananas Foster-flavored ice cream.

And, since I like pecans, I thought I'd add some to the ice cream and I could make some sort of brittle for a garnish.

So.  First things first. 

For the "Foster" aspect, I assembled the following:

4 T unsalted butter

1/2 cup (approximately - I used more because I had a little bit left in the bag and figured I'd just use it all up) dark brown sugar

1/4 cup pecans, roughly chopped

2 bananas, sliced into coins about a third to a half an inch thick. 

2 T banana liquour

4 T dark rum - I used Myers.

 

First, I melted the butter and sugar together in a pan.

 

(Sorry about the ugly flash effect - it was too dark for natural lighting in this part of the kitchen.)

 

I let the butter sugar mixture cook together for a minute or so, and then I added in the pecans and cooked for a few more minutes.

 

And next I added the bananas and cooked them for a few minutes, spooning some of the caramel over them so they'd be completely coated.

 

I also added the banana liquour when I put the bananas in.  When the bananas were starting to brown and were getting nice and soft, I poured in the rum.  Ideally I would have lit the rum on fire at this point, but I think my pan was too cool or I didn't hit it with the lighter fast enough - no flame.  So I just simmered it for a while to cook out the harshness of the alcohol, and when the mixture tasted the way I wanted it, I turned off the heat and got started on the ice cream base.

I thought I'd do a quick and easy ice cream base, so I mixed a cup and a half of sour cream and a cup and a half of heavy cream in the bowl of a stand mixer (my food processor parts were in the dishwasher) until smooth.

 

Then I thought about the next step.  I could just leave the base as it was, maybe add in some vanilla or something, make the ice cream and THEN stir in the whole caramelized portion, OR I could flavor this with some of the caramelized bananas now, make the ice cream, and stir in the rest of the caramelized stuff.

I went with the latter option.  I removed about 6-8 pieces of banana and some of the caramel glop (but none of the pecans) to use in the ice cream base.  The rest finished cooling and went into the fridge for later.

 

I added the above banana mixture to the sour cream mixture, combined with the paddle, and the put  the whole mess through a strainer to get out the bits of banana. 

 

I chilled the base for about an hour and then ran it through the ice cream machine.  When it had set up nicely, I scraped it out of the ice cream machine bowl and into a plastic container.  I stirred the banana/nut/caramel mixture into the ice cream base a bit and put the whole thing into the freezer.

That was last night.

Today I made my garnish.

I cooked some sugar to the hard crack stage (about 320 degrees F)

and poured that over some pecan halves on a silpat.

 

I was a little impatient about it hardening.  I know it takes time, but I wanted to get the final pictures taken toDAY in good light.  Yeah, it's all about the art now.

Anyway, I let it sit for a while and then I thought (in my impatience) that it should maybe have some kind of shape to it.  so I stuck a couple of small rolling pins under the silpat.

 

Every so often I'd lift up an edge of the sugar to see if it had hardened yet.  I was careful not to leave fingerprints on the shiny top side.  And no, it hadn't hardened.  I'd watch in frustration as the edge of caramel gently fell back to the silpat.

Part of the problem was today's weather.  Warm and humid.  Ugh.  I know how the sugar felt.  Droopy and damp and lethargic.  So, since I didn't want to wait til November to crack the large free-form sugar mass into shards, I put the whole thing into the fridge.  Yes, it's humid in there, too, but it's cold, and that was what I was aiming for.

About ten minutes later, the brittle was brittle.  I removed the rolling pins, and the hills and valleys of sugar remained where they were.  Yay!

 

So I whacked it with a rolling pin.

   

That's so much fun.

I put the tray back in the fridge so the shards would stay crisp, and then I took the ice cream out of the freezer so it could warm up while I got everything else ready to go.

Here's how it looked:

 

I know.  It's not all that pretty.  But.  Looks aren't everything.

I ended up microwaving the ice cream for a bit (about 30 seconds) to soften it enough so I could start scooping it out for my pictures.  And so I could taste it.  No - I hadn't tasted it yet.  I know - hard to believe, isn't it?

It tasted...well, it tasted like Bananas Foster and ice cream, all blended together.  I got bits of actual banana, and they tasted like - you guessed it! - banana.  The dark, caramel flavor of the cooked sugar was a nice contrast to the mild/sweet banana flavor, and to the cool, creamy texture of the ice cream base.

No one else has tasted this yet - I'll be dishing some up after dinner tonight.  I think Bill will like it.  Not so sure about the kids.  But we'll see.

I'm pleased with how it came out.  And with how simple it was. 

So, next time you've got a couple extra bananas kicking around, instead of baking a loaf of banana bread...make ice cream!

Wild Blueberry Sorbet

 

Wild blueberries?

Really and for true?

Yep.  Just ask this little guy:

I found him crawling on a blueberry

when I was picking out stems and bits of leaves.

He didn't want to stay and chat, though...

He seemed in a big hurry to get somewhere.

So he kept crawling around and around the rim of this little quarter cup capacity plastic container.

Until I felt sorry for him

And helped him find a new home outside.

Okay, back to the blueberries.  Once I'd removed all the twigs, leaves, mushed berries and single worm, I came to the realization that I didn't have enough berries for the size batch of sorbet I wanted to make, and so yes, I added a package of Wyman's frozen wild blueberries to make up the difference.  I reserved one cup of the berries I'd picked to stir into the sorbet after it churned. 

And I used the remaining 2 cups of my berries plus 3 cups of the Wyman's. 

I let the frozen berries thaw while I made my simple syrup.

For the simple syrup, I just combined 2 cups of sugar and 2 cups of water in a pot, and heated them until the sugar disolved.

Next, I pureed the 5 cups of blueberries

and started to pour them through a strainer to remove the seeds and skins.  

Except, they didn't strain all that well.  I switched to a larger-meshed strainer and poured the simple syrup through with the puree, and that helped.  A few tiny seeds made it into the sorbet, but they weren't really noticeable in the final product.

 

Anyway, once all the puree was strained and the simple syrup was completely mixed in, I put that into the fridge to chill a while.

Now, the next day, when I finished making this, was rather hot and humid.  I'd also baked four loaves of bread that morning, so the kitchen was extra warm.  And so, in hindsight, my next move wasn't very bright. 

I poured the sorbet base into my ice cream maker, which was on the counter in my hot kitchen, and pressed the "on" button.  Well, it churned well enough, but at some point, the heat of the kitchen warmed up the ice cream maker so much that my sorbet just wasn't getting chilled any more.  Next time, I'd do the churning in the basement.

So I mixed in my remaining cup of blueberries

and then I scraped everything out into two quart containers and put them in the freezer.  (I didn't have two quarts of sorbet - more like a quart and a pint, by the way.) When I scraped the sorbet from the bowl of the ice cream maker, I noticed that there was some texture to the sorbet.  I figured I'd just check on it now and then and give it a stir to keep it from freezing into two big purple ice cubes.

And guess what?

It came out just fine.

 

Printable Recipe!

Cherry Vanilla Ice Cream

What to do with leftover cherries?  Well, you could eat them, of course, but when the weather's been in the 90s and the humidity has been up in the zillions, maybe it would be better to take those cherries and make some ice cream with them instead.

It sure sounded like a good idea to me!

I had a little over a pound of cherries at my disposal - I was using another pound for my TWD recipe this week, and they were already set aside, so I just used what was left to make the ice cream.

But first I had to make the ice cream base. 

Here's what I used:

1 pint of heavy cream

1 pint of 2% milk (yes, you could certainly use whole milk, but with all the cheese-making and Tuesdays With Dorie-ing I've been doing lately, I thought I could stand to lose a bit of milk fat somewhere.)

6 egg yolks

1/2 a cup of sugar

3/4 T vanilla

1 T almond extract

And, of course, the cherries - pitted, and then roughly chopped.

 

Basically, when you make vanilla ice cream, you're making a creme anglaise.  All I did differently was add almond extract in along with the vanilla when I flavored it. 

First thing you do - pour your milk and cream in a pot and place over medium heat. 

I scald the milk/cream mixture - which means I bring it to just under the boiling point.  Little bubbles start to form along the sides of the pot, and you can see movement in the rest of the liquid.  At that point, it's getting ready to form some big boiling bubbles.

While the milk and cream are heating up, whisk together your egg yolks and sugar until they start to thicken and lighten in color. 

 

When the milk/cream has reached the scalding point, you'll need to temper, or slowly heat, the yolks and sugar.  This is done by ladling some of the hot milk mixture into the egg yolks while you whisk as fast as you can.  You want to pour the hot milk sloooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwly as you whisk, so as not to heat the yolks too quickly.  If they are heated too fast, you'll end up with scrambled eggs and you might as well go make some toast and try the ice cream again later.  Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration.  IF you end up getting a bit of coagulation (and it certainly can happen), just make sure you strain the whole ice cream base before you chill it.  This will remove any little squiggly bits of cooked yolk, and no one need ever know....

Anyway, back to the tempering.  Unless you have a helper or a third arm, you'll need to find a way to keep your bowl of egg yolks from slipping and sliding away while you pour with one hand and whisk with the other.  I saw Alton Brown use a damp dish towel as a sort of nest for the bowl, and that works great.

Some cookbooks will instruct that you ladle in all of the milk/cream mixture to the yolks and then pour the whole thing back into the pot.  I just use a couple of ladlesful (ladlefuls?  no, must be ladlesful.  I think.) of the hot milk until the yolks are hot, and then I pour that into the pot with the rest of the milk and move on from there.  Whichever is easier or makes more sense to you is fine.  Both ways work.  The thing to remember is to keep whisking while you first pour that milk in.

Now.  Once the egg yolks and sugar are heated up and mixed in with all the milk and cream, and everybody is back in the pot, you want to switch to a spoon and stir,

stir,

stir while the whole mixture heats up and thickens. 

Your goal, temperature-wise, is between 170-180 degrees F.  You don't want to go over, because at that point, no matter how well you did your tempering, you can still end up with scrambled eggs.  Very sweet, runny eggs, but coagulated eggs nonetheless.  And you don't want that.

So stir and stir and keep an eye on the temperature.  The milk/egg mixture will thicken noticeably as you stir, and when the mixture is thick enough, you'll be able to dip your spoon in, and then run a finger down the back of the spoon and the sauce will stay put and not try to meld back together again.  Another fun test (well, okay, fun is a relative term), is to dip the spoon in the mixture and then blow on the back of the spoon.  When the sauce is thick enough, it will spread out in a rose blossom pattern.  Or, you can just be sensible and use a thermometer.  At least until you've made this a few times and know what to expect.

When the milk mixture has reached the proper temperature and thickness, you need to remove the pot from the heat and pour the mixture through a strainer (better safe than sorry!) into a bowl, and put THAT bowl in another, larger bowl filled about half way with ice water. 

Keep stirring the hot mixture until it becomes tepid.  At that point, go ahead and add in your vanilla and almond extracts (or other flavorings if you wish) and then move the bowl of ice cream base into the fridge and let it chill at least 2 hours.

When the base is chilled, get out your ice cream maker, pour in the base, and let it churn.

Because of the heat, I actually set up the ice cream maker in the basement, near the air conditioner, and I wrapped it in a towel to keep the heat out and the coldness in.  Last time I made something with the ice cream maker, I had it up in the kitchen, and it churned and churned and churned - and the sorbet I was working on didn't really thicken as it should have.  It tasted good anyway.  But still - it was just too, too hot up there for the ice cream maker.  Things worked out much better in the basement.  The vanilla base thickened beautifully, and when it was ready, I poured it into a plastic freezer container and mixed in the chopped cherries.

Actually, I had only prepped about a cup of cherries initially, but when I poured them in, I thought there should be more cherries, so I quickly chopped up the rest and my kids helped me with the pouring and the stirring while I snapped pictures. 

Please forgive the appallingly messy countertop - it was rather chaotic yesterday.

Anyway, I put the container into the freezer and that was that. 

Until later, of course.  And again this morning.

And would you believe

That I shot 70 pictures

Of this same cone of ice cream

In a (futile) attempt

To catch a sharp and clear image of a drip of melted ice cream in midair - somewhere between the ice cream above and the plate below.

It didn't happen, and I didn't want the ice cream to just melt all over the place.  Too wasteful for something homemade.

So I threw in the towel and handed the cone to one of our houseguests. 

And soon, that ice cream was gone.

Strawberry Balsamic Sorbet

According to my son, Alex, "This tastes just like strawberries!" 

I had a lot of strawberries on hand last week - end of the season strawberries that needed something done with them or else they'd start going moldy.

I had made a couple of batches of freezer jam...I made pies...and I made sorbet.

First - I made a batch of simple syrup. 

2 cups of sugar + 2 cups of water.  See?  Simple!

Pour the sugar and water in a pot and stir just to moisten all the sugar.  Place the pot over a medium flame and heat it until all the sugar has dissolved.  Once the sugar has dissolved, shut off the heat and let the syrup cool to room temperature.  You can do this ahead of time and refrigerate it, if you wish.

Next, the strawberries.  To be honest, I don't know how many cups or pounds of strawberries I started with.  I just used everything I had left - I'm guessing around 5 or 6 cups before I hulled and trimmed them.  After hulling them and halving them (and yes, trimming away any particularly mushy sections), I pureed most of them in my food processor and strained the juice to keep the seeds out.  I kept about half a cup of strawberries out of the processor and mashed them with a tiny bit of sugar.  I set these aside for later.

I had a little over 3 cups of strained strawberry puree and I combined that with 1 3/4 cups of simple syrup, stirred well, and put the mixture in the fridge for about an hour.

I apologize at this point for the scarcity of process photos. 

When the strawberry base was chilled, I got my ice cream maker out and set up and found some containers to keep the sorbet in once it was ready to go in the freezer.

I also got those remaining strawberries that I'd mashed with a bit of sugar and strained the excess juice from them.  I set the remaining berries aside again to mix into the sorbet later.

Once the strawberry sorbet had run its course through the machine, I stirred in the additional berries.  I also drizzled in some balsamic vinegar glaze - not a lot, maybe a couple of tablespoons - and then I scraped the soft sorbet mixture into a couple of containers and popped them in the freezer.

Several days later, we dug in. 

 

The sorbet had a delightful texture that was both icy and silky smooth.  The balsamic vinegar glaze wasn't really noticeable as balsamic vinegar, but it gave the sorbet a zing that cut through the sweetness and brightened the overall flavor without providing any sort of distraction from summery taste of fresh strawberries.

My kids loved it, and so did Bill and I.  In fact, Alex had a bit of Haagen Dazs Mango sorbet this evening - and he didn't like it.  He wanted my strawberry sorbet instead.

Okay, I realize that choice had more to do with the flavor of mangoes vs the flavor of strawberries...but still, homemade trumps store bought any day in my book.  I allowed myself a moment to pat myself on the back (figuratively, so no one would see).  And laugh.

And then I went back to loading the dishwasher.

 

So if you find yourself with an abundance of fresh summer fruit but the thought of making a pie fills you with dread and sends you running for the air conditioner, keep your cool by making some icy, silky, delicious sorbet.  No baking involvoved.

When Life Hands You 90+ Degree Weather, Make Popsicles!

 

The week my son was born (6 years ago this week), the weather was vastly different from what we've been experiencing lately, here in the northeast.  We're finally experiencing a "break" in the weather - which just means the 90-100 degree weather with oh, 200% humidity and 0 breeze, has dropped way down to the low to mid 80s.  WITH a lovely breeze that ruffles the curtains throughout my house and makes me feel less ornery than I have been of late.

Six years ago, it was cooler and kind of dreary that week.  I had Alex on a Monday afternoon and we brought him home on that Wednesday (if I remember right...I'm pretty sure I had two nights in the hospital) and sleeping was comfortable the rest of the week.  But pretty soon, summer hit, no preamble, no fanfare - just HOT and uncomfortable.

Now, I don't really shine in the hot humid weather, other than the glistening sweat that shows up.  I don't mind warm, but once we're into the 90s, I wilt like our rhubarb plant does.  Give me water, water...oh, I don't think I'll make it!  Kind of like that, only less dramatic.

And when you combine that with my (then) postpartum body and all the...um...reorganization (I'll spare you the gory details) that was going on with it, PLUS the sleeplessness that comes with nursing a ravenous newborn, PLUS the accompanying FAT COW WITH ACHING UDDER feeling and the faint hint of warm human dairy product lingering in the fabric of onesies and the shoulders of my shirts...well, it's not a relaxing day at the cabana, I can tell you that. 

And I found that one of the very few things that could simultaneously soothe both my overheated lactating body AND my foul, sleep-deprived temper was a chocolate popsicle.

Not a fudgicle (fudgcicle?  fudgecicle?  however you spell it) from a box.  No.  It was homemade, and I made it, and I thank Martha Stewart for saving my sanity, because I found the idea in the June 2002 issue of her magazine.  

It was actually an article on how to make simple sorbets - a perfect idea for the heat of June and July - mainly from fruits.  Basically, a fruit puree combined with some simple syrup, and run through your ice cream maker.  SIM-PULL.  And in addition to all the various fruit suggestions, there was also...chocolate.

And chocolate, at that point, appealed to me way more than strawberry or melon or lime.  I needed chocolate.  I needed indulgence.  I needed to feel...rewarded.

So I combined the specified amounts of cocoa powder and hot water with the simple syrup I made a little earlier, and instead of making sorbet with it in my ice cream maker, I just poured it into popsicle molds and tried not to check the freezer every five minutes.

Once they were finally ready, and I figured out the logistics of getting a popsicle out of the mold without stabbing at it with a steak knife (it really doesn't work - don't bother trying it), I sampled one.

And it was good.

Icy cold, of course, and dark and richly flavored.  This was an adult popsicle.  And it was ALLLLLL mine.  I ate many of those during the hottest part of that summer, and I am eternally grateful to Martha Stewart for having the forsight the previous autumn or whenever they put together the June issues of things to include an article on sorbets...specifically the chocolate variety.  After all, she is a Mom.  She must have known what I would need. 

Anyway, here we are, six years later.  And there have been other hot summers in the meantime, or at least hot sections of summer.  But I haven't made the popsicles since then because I couldn't find THAT magazine among the piles of magazines I had hung onto over the years.  I couldn't find it.  And over the years, I have peeled my own clingy fingers off these piles of magazines to throw them away (in the recycyle bin) because how many stacks of magazines do I really need to save?  Do I ever re-read them?  Mostly no.  Do I have some sort of master index telling me which magazine has that ravioli recipe I thought I'd like to try some time?  Of course not.  So gradually - usually in fits of "my life's a mess and I need to GET RID OF STUFF," I tossed ancient editions of Martha Stewart Living and Gourmet and Bon Appetit...whittling away at the clutter until all that was left were the couple of stacks on one of the two big bookcases in my dining room and a couple of stacks on the floor nearby.  Well, that "my life's a mess and I need to GET RID OF STUFF" feeling hit me again last week, so I pulled out all the remaining magazines (plus loose recipes printed from the internet, stuff I'd scribbled down, old notebooks, all kinds of paper debris) and made two piles - keep, because yes, i'll REALLY use it, and SEE YA. 

And that's when I found it.  That edition of MSL from June 2002.  Open to the page with the little chart of proportions of fruit to simple syrup, like I'd been looking at it just yesterday.  I had, apparently, figured that sliding it in at the very end of a shelf would make lots of sense to the future me who would be looking for it again come the following summer.  Of course, mothers of newborns don't make a lot of sense at times, and so that explains that silly line of thinking.  Maybe I also assumed I'd be going through all those magazines and scraps of paper a lot sooner.  Ah well.

Enough of my chatter. 

I started this post several days ago and keep getting interrupted.  I'll shut up now and get on with the popsicle making.  Because it's only June, and we all know the hot weather may go away for a while, but it's bound to be back.

I made two kinds of popsicles this week - lemon and chocolate.  I didn't use the ice cream maker - I just poured the mixtures directly into the popsicle molds and shut them in the freezer for several hours.  Too many hours if you ask my kids.

First, you want to make yourself some simple syrup. 

All you do is pour equal parts (by volume, not weight) of sugar and water in a pot, set the pot on the stove, and heat the water until the sugar is completely dissolved.  Remove the pan from the heat and set aside.

To make the lemon popsicles, you want a cup and a half of lemon juice and two cups of the cooled simple syrup.  Combine them and put them in the fridge for at least an hour.

If you're making the chocolate popsicles, then you want a cup and a half of cocoa powder - use the best you can, since that plus the sugar is all the flavor you'll get.  To the cocoa powder, add two cups of very hot water.

Whisk to combine.

Add two cups of simple syrup to the cocoa mixture, and put that in the fridge for at least an hour.

Once the mixture is chilled (either the lemon or the chocolate), pour into the popsicle molds...

And then put the little stick things in and put them in the freezer.

I got a bit smarter with the chocolate ones - instead of leaving a bit of space between the level of the liquid and the top edge of the mold, I filled most of them up to the brim, or a teeny tiny bit below.  Since liquids expand as they freeze, I figured this way when the liquid swelled, it would rise up and stick to the flat part of the decorative stick thing.  (I know, I am doing a terrible job of explaining this.  I'm sorry.)

 

Anyway, put the molds in the freezer and try to be patient. 

Mine took at least 4 hours to freeze solid.  Overnight is probably your best bet.

 

To unmold them, I ran them under hot tap water.  You'll also want to briefly run the tops under some water too, just to loosen them.  Then hold the mold sideways with one hand and gently, GENTLY turn the little sea creature handle (if you have this style) and carefully twist the popsicle out of the mold.

Hand to your impatient son and take a picture.

Send him outside, as you don't want the melting popsicle dripping on the floor, and he can rinse off with the hose when he's done.  Same thing with his sister.

And then they'll want the chocolate ones the next day.

And that next day, in the morning, when the light is better in your kitchen, you can take whimsical photos of popsicles in cordial glasses (the glasses are for drinking cordials...they are not necessarily polite glasses.  (Forgive the daffy humor, I've been trying to get this post finished for several says now...the weather isn't even terrible at this point, but hopefully some reader somewhere is suffering in sweltering heat and will actually be interested in making popsicles now.)

Oh, and I strongly recommend using actual lemon juice that you squeezed yourself, rather than that stuff in the bottles.  Just...you know...in case you had a bottle of that in your fridge because you were in a weakened state at the store one day and your daughter thought it was lemonade and talked you into buying it and now you're trying to figure out to use up the rest of the atrocious stuff.  Not that that would happen to YOU, of course.  But in case it did.  Don't use it for these.  Use the real juice.  Pulp and all.

Anyway, I hope you'll think of making some popsicles next time the temperature is due to rise higher than you'd like.

They melt quickly, so keep a napkin handy as you slurp.

Keep in mind, too, that once you have made one or two basic kinds, you'll probably want to experiment with blends of fruits...or layers of different fruits/colors...the addition of herbs...and so on.

Have fun! 

And stay hydrated!

A Closer Look at Meringue

Just because.

Margarita Ice Cream with Picante y Dulce Almond Brittle

I suddenly realized the other day that Cinco de Mayo was fast approaching and, good heavens, I haven't posted anything relevant.  Not that too many people will care...but I had a couple of big theme months recently, food-wise, what with all the Valentine's Day dinners and desserts in February and then the whole corned beef project in March.  April...well, April just kind of flew past me.  So I think I felt I needed to pay more attention to the holidays again.  And because of all that, I came up with these two recipes.  Hope you try them, and hope you like them!

My ice cream recipe is adapted from the Lemon Ice Cream recipe from Masaharu Morimoto's cookbook Morimoto.

Ingredients:

2 large egg yolks

1/2 cup sugar

1 cup milk

1/2 cup heavy cream

zest of half a lime

3 T tequila  - plus enough lime juice and orange or lemon juice (or a blend) to make a quarter cup of liquid or so.

* Our house ratio for a martarita is 3 parts tequila, 1 part triple sec or Grand Marnier, and 1 part lime juice, so I tried to keep close to that.  There was more "other" citrus juice in this than lime, simply because I had a blend of freshly squeezed citrus juices on hand (long story) and only half of a tiny lime in the fridge.  That's why I used the zest of the lime - for the flavor.

Anyway.

In a heatproof medium bowl, beat the egg yolks lightly.  Gradually whisk in the sugar and beat until the mixture is thick and pale, about 2 minutes.  (I actually had to add another yolk - maybe my first two were on the runty side.)

In a small saucepan, heat the milk until bubbles appear around the rim of the pan.  Gradually whisk about 1/3 cup of the hot milk into the yolks to warm them. 

Slowly whisk the yolks back into the remaining milk in the pan.

Reduce the heat to low and cook,

stirring,

until the custard is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. 

Strain into a clean bowl (I didn't strain - I decided to keep the zest in the ice cream), set over a larger bowl of ice and water and stir until cooled.

Whisk in the heavy cream and yuzu (or lemon) juice.  (And while I was making this and taking pictures (and probably distracted by something...like a small child...or two) I combined the cream with the milk earlier in the process, so I only added in the tequila/juice combination at this point.)

Cover and refrigerate for 1 to 2 hours, until chilled.

Pour into the canister of an ice cream machine and process according to the manufacturer's instructions.  Transfer to a covered container and freeze for at least 3 hours, or overnight, until firm enough to scoop.

While the ice cream was in the freezer, I made the Picante y Dulce Almond Brittle.

Once the brittle was ready, and broken into pieces, I assembled the dessert.

When I started thinking about this concoction, I knew I could probably do the Margarita ice cream without too much trouble.  But I knew it would need something else.

Something...maybe crunchy like chips and salsa...but spicy, too, to balance out the cold tang of the ice cream.  I started thinking about Mexican flavors that might work in a dessert, and this brittle is what I came up with.  In some ways, my choice was influenced by what I already had in the pantry or the freezer.  I thought of making some sort of cookie, too, and maybe I'll try that next time, but somehow the thought of a nut brittle of some kind appealed most to me. 

I figured I could do a lot with the ingredients...and the broken shards of candy stuck in the ice cream looked good in my mind. 

So I thought I'd see how they looked for real. 

And that's how this dessert came about.

And how did it taste? 

Pretty yummy, actually. 

I could taste the smoky tequila flavor along with the citrus in the ice cream, but I think maybe next time I'd zest a whole lime instead of a half.  (I'll also, hopefully, be planning ahead then, too.)  I'd had some initial concerns about the tequila preventing the ice cream from freezing properly, but the day after I made it, the ice cream was solid as a rock. 

The brittle was best when taken from the center of the pan.  Around the edges it was thinner and had fewer nuts and just wasn't as texturaly (is that a word?) satisfying.  The red pepper flakes added an unexpected (to everyone but me) flash of heat at the back of the throat - which was just what I hoped for.  What better way to cool that heat than with the accompanying ice cream?

So overall I'm pretty happy with my little experiments.

And then this morning - I was trying to figure out what to call the ice cream, and I thought "Margarita con Leche!"  Margarita with Milk, right?  That's kind of what it was.  And then, just to make sure I had the meaning of "con Leche" right (I second guess myself all the time) I typed "Margarita con Leche" into Babel Fish and selected the Spanish to English translation.  And I learned that it translates to "Daisy with Milk" - so maybe that's what I'll call it, eventually.  And just confuse the heck out of everyone.

Happy Cinco de Mayo, everyone!  Enjoy some "Daisy with Milk!"

Picante y Dulce Almond Brittle

I wanted to make something crunchy to accompany my Margarita Ice Cream.  I wanted it to be sweet, but to have flavors influenced by what I know (not a lot) about Mexican cooking, and I wanted it spicy-hot to play against the cold and tangy ice cream. 

I used Gale Gand's Sesame Brittle recipe in her book Just a Bite as a launching pad, and then tinkered with it a bit. 

This recipe is what I came up with:

Ingredients:

3/8 cup toasted sliced almonds

1 cup sugar

1/8 tsp cream of tartar

1/2 cup light corn syrup

1 T unsalted butter

1/2 tsp crushed red pepper flakes

1 tsp Tabasco Chipotle sauce

and 1/4 cup water (not in photo)

2 oz unsweetened chocolate

1 oz semi sweet chocolate (not in the photo - I decided to add that once I'd started)

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

You'll also need a candy thermometer and a metal baking pan with sides.  I used a 12" round when I was shooting these pictures, but I'd use something smaller next time - 10" or even 8" - because in the larger pan, the edges didn't have a lot of "stuff" in them - the nuts in particular - and tasted kind of blah. 

Now, to make the brittle...

Grease the pan generously with vegetable oil and set aside.

Toast the sliced almonds (if you haven't already done so) and set aside.

Combine the sugar, cream of tartar and corn syrup with the water in a medium-sized sauce pan.  Bring to a boil over medium heat. 

After it boils, stir the mixture occasionally. 

Cook the mixture until it reaches 350 degrees F. 

The color should be deep golden brown. 

(It's getting there...)

When the sugar syrup is ready, remove from the heat and stir in the butter until melted,

then stir in the chipotle sauce, the almonds, and the red pepper flakes. 

Pour the mixture onto the oiled pan and spread it out a bit with the back of a wooden spoon, to about 1/4 inch thickness.

   

Let the brittle harden, uncovered, in a cool place, 30 to 45 minutes. 

While the brittle is hardening, melt the chocolate in the microwave and stir until smooth.  Stir in the cinnamon. 

Drizzle the chocolate over the brittle and allow to harden. 

The chocolate will take longer to harden than the brittle did.  Don't be tempted to put the whole thing in the fridge - it will hurry the chocolate along, but the moisture in the fridge will soften the brittle.

Once the chocolate has hardened, pop the brittle out of the pan and break it into pieces.

Use brittle, if you wish, to garnish a bowl (or Margarita glass) of Margarita Ice Cream.

   

Store in an airtight container for up to 1 week, or 3 days if the weather is very humid.

Red Miso Souffle with Lemon Ice Cream

I've had a copy of Morimoto: The New Art of Japanese Cuisine for, oh, months now.  It's another beautiful book put out by DK (Dorling Kindersley) Publishing and written, of course, by Masaharu Morimoto, of both the original Iron Chef series and the American version.  And, more importantly, chef and restauranteur and rock star of the Sushi world. 

Bill and I were both delighted (okay, Bill would balk at that adjective, I'm sure) when the book came out.  As you already know, if you have read this blog for a while, that we both love sushi and Japanese cooking and all sorts of other cuisines from Asia and, heck, everywhere.  And we've watched both Iron Chef incarnations for years.  My favorite Iron Chef, by the way, from the original series, was "Iron Chef France" - Hiroyuki Sakai.  "The Delacroix of French Cuisine."  But I digress.

Anyway, I've been wanting to make something from this book for a while - alternatively, I've wanted Bill to make something so I could take the pictures and do the write-up.  But for some reason, it just didn't happen.  And then, a few weeks ago, just out of curiosity, I took a look at the items in the dessert section of his book.  And there I saw a recipe for Red Miso Souffle.  Hm.  I've been wanting to do some sort of souffle for a while, too.  And red miso?  Wonder how that would taste in there.

"Red miso makes a souffle that is buttery yet has a unique kick.  This is especially delicious served with softened Yuzu Ice Cream as a sauce." writes Morimoto.

Yuzu ice cream?  Hm.  We have an ice cream maker.  Somewhere.  In the basement, I think.  I flipped a few pages and found that recipe.  I could make that, easy.

Okay!  I'll make the souffle and the ice cream, just like Morimoto recommends!

I made the ice cream the day before, so it would have time to set up. 

And then I made the souffle. 

Ingredients:

2 tsp unsalted butter

1/2 cup red miso

1  1/4 cups sugar

6 whole eggs, separated

6 egg whites

To make the souffle:

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.  Butter 4  8-oz ramekins or individual souffle dishes.  (I had 8 small ramekins and a large souffle dish and still had leftover batter for some reason.)

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the red miso, 1/4 cup of the sugar, and the 6 egg yolks.  Blend well.

In another large mixing bowl, beat the 12 egg whites until frothy.  Gradually add the remaining 1 cup of sugar while continuing to beat until soft peaks form.  Fold the beaten whites into the red miso base. 

 

Divide among the ramekins. 

Level off the tops with a spatula.

Bake for 8-10 minutes, until puffed and just set.

   

Serve immediately.

And to serve a souffle, what you're supposed to do (I think I saw Julia Child do this on The French Chef years and years and years ago) is to take two spoons and, holding them back to back, sort of, insert them into the center of the souffle and gently pull the souffle apart.

At this point, I dropped in a scoop of the lemon ice cream, and snapped a picture while it still looked pretty.

That's the thing about souffles, by the way.  When Morimoto wrote "serve immediately," he meant IMMEDIATELY.  Because in very short time, souffles collapse.  And they're just not as pretty any more, and the texture becomes kind of gummy.

And how did it taste, you may be wondering.  I'll do my best.  The red miso gives the souffle a slightly earthy taste, and reminded me of the way the mash smells when Bill is making beer.  Basically, it's a sweet, cooked grain.  Kind of like something you'd have for breakfast in winter.  Hearty with a touch of sweetness.  But not too sweet. 

Texture-wise, the souffle is smooth and light and warm and soft. 

I liked the souffle best in combination with the ice cream.  The cold tartness of the lemon ice cream was a perfect balance against the warm, darker flavored souffle.  The contrast of hot and cold in the mouth was interesting and enjoyable, too.

Would I make the souffle again?  I don't know.  Bill didn't love it, and I wouldn't want to eat a whole vat of it.  But - with the lemon ice cream - the red miso souffle woke up my taste buds and made them take notice.  So maybe for a party, with people would like to try something new.

 

And, as I tell my kids, it's always good to try new things.

Lemon Ice Cream

(Adapted from the "Yuzu Ice Cream" recipe in Morimoto.)

"This ice cream is subtly flavored with yuzu, a citrus fruit favored by not only Japanese chefs, but by chefs everywhere who get to sample its inimitable taste.  The juice can be had from the fresh fruit or is sold jarred or frozen in Asian specialty stores.  When yuzu is not available, though, fresh lemon juice can be substituted."

Ingredients:

2 large egg yolks

1/2 cup sugar

1 cup milk

1/2 cup heavy cream

1/4 cup yuzu juice (or fresh lemon juice)

In a heatproof medium bowl, beat the egg yolks lightly.  Gradually whisk in the sugar and beat until the mixture is thick and pale, about 2 minutes.

In a small saucepan, heat the milk until bubbles appear around the rim of the pan.  Gradually whisk about 1/3 cup of the hot milk into the yolks to warm them.  Slowly whisk the yolks back into the remaining milk in the pan.

Reduce the heat to low and cook, stirring, until the custard is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.  Strain into a clean bowl, set over a larger bowl of ice and water and stir until cooled.

Whisk in the heavy cream

and yuzu (or lemon) juice. 

Cover and refrigerate for 1 to 2 hours, until chilled.

Pour into the canister of an ice cream machine and process according to the manufacturer's instructions.  Transfer to a covered container and freeze for at least 3 hours, or overnight, until firm enough to scoop.

Tuesdays With Dorie: The Most Extraordinary French Lemon Cream Tart

This week's challenge was chosen by Mary of Starting From Scratch  - "The Most Extraordinary French Cream Tart" from Baking, From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan, pgs. 331-332. 

(I made mine with the "Sweet Tart Dough" on pg. 444.)

The first of my Tuesdays with Dorie!

I actually doubled the recipes.  Our nephew and his girlfriend just closed on their first home, and I thought this tart would be part of a nice housewarming gift.  And, of course, I would then need a second tart to keep for the family.

I've made lemon curd many times, and this lemon cream is similar in some ways, but oh so very different in mouth feel.  It's soft and smooth and light and lush.

**(I'm just writing out the directions for a single tart, though all my pictures will have twice as much of everything.)

Oh, and as is often the case, my daughter, Julia, helped out.  Dorie's instructions are in normal type, my own notes will be in italics.

Here's what you will need:

1 cup sugar

grated zest of 3 lemons

4 large eggs

3/4 cup fresh lemon juice (from 4-5 lemons)

2 sticks plus 5 tablespoons (10  1/2 oz) unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon-size pieces, at room temperature

1 9-inch tart shell made with Sweet Tart Dough (page 444), Sweet Tart Dough with Nuts (page 444), or Spiced Tart Dough (page 447), fully baked and cooled

Getting Ready:  Have an instant-read thermometer, a strainer and a blender (first choice) or food processorat hand.  Bring a few inches of water to a simmer in a saucepan.

Put the sugar and zest in a large heatproof bowl that can be set over the pan of simmer water.  Off the heat, rub the sugar and zest together between your fingers

until the suar is moist, grainy and very aromatic.

Whisk in the eggs,

followed by the lemon juice.

Set the bowl over the pan and start stirring with the whisk as soon as the mixture feels tepid to the touch.  Cook the lemon cream until it reaches 180 degrees F.  As you whisk--you must whisk constantly to keep the eggs from scrambling--you'll see that the cream will start out light and foamy,

then the bubbles will get bigger, and then, as it gets closer to 180 degrees F, it will start to thicken and the whisk will leave tracks.  Heads up at this point--the tracks mean the cream is almost ready.  Don't stop whisking or checking the temperature, and have patience--depending on how much heat you're giving the cream, getting to temp can take as long as 10 minutes.  (Sorry, no pictures here - hard to hold a camera with a thermometer in one hand and a whisk in the other.)

As soon as it reaches 180 degrees F, remove the cream from the heat and strain it into the container of the blender (or food processor); discard the zest.  Let the cream stand, stirring occasionally, until it cools to 140 degrees F, about 10 minutes.  (Since I'd doubled the recipe, and neither my blender nor my food processor had the capacity, I used my stand mixer from here on out.)

Turn the blender to high (or turn on the processor) and, with the machine going, add the butter about 5 pieces at a time. 

Scrape down the sides of the container as needed as you incorporate the butter. 

Once the butter is in, keep the machine going--to get the perfect light, airy texture of lemon-cream dreams, you must continue to blend the cream for another 3 minutes.  If your machine protests and gets a bit too hot, work in 1-minute intervals, giving the machine a little rest between beats.

Pour the cream into a container, press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface to create an airtight seal and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight.  (The cream will keep in the fridge for 4 days or, tightly sealed, in the freezer for up to 2 months; thaw it overnight in the refrigerator.)

When you are ready to assemble the tart, just whisk the cream to loosen it and spoon it into the tart shell.  Serve the tart, or refrigerate until needed.

And for the Tart Shell:

Ingredients:

1  1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup confectioners' sugar

1/4 tsp salt

1 stick plus 1 tablespoon (9 tablespoons) very cold (or frozen) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1 large egg yolk

And the directions:

Put the flour, confectioners' sugar and salt in a food processor and pulse a couple of times to combine. 

Scatter the pieces of butter over the dry ingredients and pulse until the butter is coarsely cut in--you should have some pieces the size of oatmeal flakes and some the size of peas.  Stir the yolk, just to break it up, and add it a little at a time, pulsing after each addition.  When the egg is in, process in long pulses--about 10 seconds each--until the dough, which will look granular soon after the egg is added, forms clumps and curds.  Just before you reach this stage, the sound of the machine working the dough will change--heads up.  Turn the dough out onto a work surface and, very lightly and sparingly, knead the dough just to incorporate any dry ingredients that might have escaped mixing.

To Press the Dough into the Pan:  Butter a 9-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom.  Press the dough evenly over the bottom and up the sides of the pan, using all but one little piece of dough, which you should save in the refrigerator to patch any cracks after the crust is baked.  Don't be too heavy-handed--press the crest in so that the edges of the pieces cling to one another, but not so hard that the crust loses its crumbly texture.  Freeze the crust for at least 30 minutes, perferably longer, before baking.

To Partially or Fully Bake the Crust:  Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. 

Butter the shiny side of a piece of aluminum foil and fit the foil, buttered side down, tightly against the crust. 

(Since you froze the crust, you can bake it without weights.)  Put the tart pan on a baking sheet and bake the crust for 25 minutes.  Carefully remove the foil.  If the crust has puffed, press it down gently with the back of a spoon.  For a partially baked crust, patch the crust if necessary, then transfer the crust to a cooling rack (keep it in its pan).

To Fully Bake the Crust:  Bake for another 8 minutes or so, or until it is firm and golden brown.  (I dislike lightly baked crusts, so I oftenkeep the crust in the oven just a little longer.  If you do that, just make sure to keep a close eye on the crust's progress--it can go from golden to way too dark in a flash.)  Transfer the tart pan to a rack an dcool the crust to room temperature before filling.

(I had issues with the crust - totally my own fault.  I should have rolled the dough out rather than just pressing it onto the pans.  My shells came out a bit lumpy in spots, thin in others, and therefore overcooked where they were thin.  You can see that particular problem in the shot below.)

I kept that one for us and gave the better shell to my nephew and his girlfriend. 

Anyway, I filled the tart shells a little bit before the 4 hour minimum chilling time was up, partly because of time constraints at home, but also because my son whacked his toe on the leg of the dining room table and he was on the verge of tears.  I said "I know what would make that feel better!  Lemon tart!"  And he nodded in agreement.  So I filled the shells at that point.

And my son forgot all about his pain...

And my daughter enjoyed the fruits (intended pun) of her labor.

And here's the tart we brought to Joe and Emily.

Couple other notes -

Exactly halfway through the first 25 minutes of baking the tart crusts, my kitchen was filled with the most wonderful buttery cookie smell.  And once the tart shells were out, my son came drifting into the kitchen, led by his nose, and wanted to eat the shells right then and there.

I had some of the cream left over - probably because my tart pan is an 8" and the rectangular pan is about the same in volume.  But that's okay. 

There's hardly any of our tart left now.  My husband had some, I'd had some with the kids, and we all agree it's one of the most delicious lemony creations we've ever tasted. 

And really pretty easy to make, too.  (Apart from my own self-created problems with the crusts.)  I'll definitely make this again.

Thanks Dorie!

Bittersweet Chocolate and Ginger-Lemon Poached Pear Tart

Years ago Bill and I used to frequent a tiny restaurant featuring the cuisine of Northern Italy.  The name of the place was Nonna Cherubina.

The husband and wife - Luigi and Stephania - who owned and ran the place (and lived above it) were warm and kind and welcoming.  We always felt like family there. 

There were a few years - after we'd moved to a different neighborhood and had two babies - when we didn't go out to eat there at all.  And then, a few years ago, we discovered that Nonna Cherubina had closed.  I heard that Luigi and Stephania had moved to Spain.  And that was the end of a little period in our lives.

The food was fabulous, every time.  So were the desserts.  One evening one of the desserts offered was a pear and chocolate tart.  I tried it, and it was delicious.  I never forgot it - the uncommon combination of flavors, and the simplicity and beauty of it.

Well, a while ago when I was making my poached pears for this post, I started thinking about that pear and chocolate tart.  I didn't remember it perfectly, but I thought I could at least make something kind of similar.

So here's what I came up with.

First, I poached the pears.

I didn't poach them whole, like I'd done for that other dessert.  And I didn't use red wine this time, either.  I wanted them white, to better contrast with the dark chocolate.

For the poaching liquid, I used 3 cups of water, 2 cups of sweet wine (2 different kinds that Bill's nephew brought back from Germany recently),

 

1/2 cup of sugar, the peeled zest of a lemon, and about a 1 inch knob of fresh ginger, sliced,

and two teaspoons of vanilla. 

I put all of that in a pot and brought it to a boil.

While the poaching liquid was heating up, I peeled two firm pears...

And then sliced them in half...

trimmed the ends off slightly, and continued to slice each half lengthwise, into 1/8-1/4 inch thick slices.  (I cut around the little seed area where necessary.)

And when the poaching liquid had reached a boil, I added the pear slices and let the liquid come back to the boil.

Once the liquid reached a boil, I shut the heat off and just let everything sit there for an hour and a half or so.  I didn't want to cook the pears too much - they were thin slices and I didn't want them to turn mushy.

I removed the pears from the liquid and put them in a smaller bowl on the counter to finish cooling down, and then I removed any remaining pieces of ginger and lemon peel, covered the pears with plastic wrap, and put them in the fridge.

Next up - the crust.

I wanted nuts in the tart crust - I figured they would add some crunch, and nuts go great with both chocolate and pears, so why not?

I used 3/4 cup of ground almonds, 2 cups of flour, 1 tsp of salt, 1  1/2 tsp brown sugar, 1 stick of unsalted butter (chilled and cut into little cubes), 1/4 cup of vegetable shortening (also chilled, also cut into little cubes), and somewhere around 6-8 T of ice water to make the dough. 

First I combined the almonds, flour, salt, and sugar in the food processor and pulsed to combine.

Then I added the chilled cubes of butter and pulsed 5-6 times.

And then the shortening and another 5-6 pulses.

To that I gradually added the ice water - a tablespoon or two and then a pulse...tablespoon and a pulse...until the dough just came together.

I wrapped the dough in plastic and put that in the fridge to chill.

After half an hour or more (I don't remember exactly), I took the dough out of the fridge and divided it in half.  I rolled the first half out so it was large enough to line my 8" round tart pan...

I folded it into quarters...

Placed the dough so that the point of the fold was in the center of the tart pan...

Unfolded the dough and pressed it gently into the corners of the pan...

And then trimmed off the excess.

I did the same thing, more or less, with the other half of dough and my rectangular tart pan.

And then, since I was going to prebake these tart shells, I docked the dough with a fork. 

Docking means piercing the dough with many small holes so that steam can escape while it's cooking and you won't end up with a great big pastry bubble in your pan.

I baked the shells at 350 degrees F for 20-25 minutes.

And last, but certainly not least - the chocolate part.

I made a bittersweet ganache - actually, I made a LOT of a bittersweet ganache.  I still have half of it in the fridge.  It calls to me in the night...

Anyway, here's what I used:

1 quart of heavy cream/whipping cream (same thing)

24 oz good bittersweet chocolate

4 T unsalted butter

4 T sugar

I put the cream, sugar and butter in a pot and started heating it on medium.

 

While that was heating up, I broke my chocolate into pieces an put them in a large stainless steel bowl.

Once the sugar had dissolved, the butter melted, and the cream mixture started to boil, I poured all of that into my bowl of chocolate.

Then I stirred it and stirred it...

and the chocolate melted and melted...

(yum)

And once the chocolate was all melted, and the mixture was nice and dark, I poured it all through a strainer (just to get any tiny bits of unmelted chocolate out) and then poured the ganache into my two tart shells.

I let these sit out on the counter until the ganache had completely cooled and was starting to firm up a little bit. 

I dried off the pear slices on some paper towels and then arranged them on top of the tarts. 

 

I could have used more pears, I suppose, and really overlapped them tightly so they'd look like a flower or something, but the ginger-lemon flavor of the pears was pretty strong, and I didn't want to upset the balance between that and the chocolate.  And also, I only had 2 pears anyway.  heh heh.

I put both tarts in the fridge to chill for a couple of hours before slicing them and serving.

Julia and Alex had some after dinner last night.

They both liked it.  In fact, Alex just asked for a piece a moment ago - for a snack.

The spicy tartness of the pears, the smooth and rich chocolate ganache, and the crispy, nutty tart shell.

It's not exactly the way I remember the other tart,

 

but I'm still pretty pleased with it.

Mini Blueberry Pies

My kids have been, well, clamoring for blueberry pie.  Not because I make such a fabulous blueberry pie, mind you, but because they watch Noggin.  And on Noggin, when the main program of the half hour time slot is finished (about 7 minutes before the half hour is actually up) the rest of the time is filled by the songs and antics of Mr. Moose A Moose and his sidekick, Zee, a sort of Harpo Marx in blue feathers.  One of the little filler bits involves a search for the right number of blueberries to make someone's (Moose's aunt?  I don't remember.  Or I've blocked it out.) famous blueberry pie.  And, since this is geared toward preschoolers, the number of blueberries the recipe calls for is...four. 

While that may seem a rather skimpy amount of fruit for any size pie, Moose sells it so well that any time they see that little bit, my kids develop an overwhelming desire for blueberry pie.

So when Julia and I were at the grocery store on Monday, we got a bunch of frozen blueberries - I use Wyman's frozen wild blueberries pretty much exclusively, unless I'm buying (or picking) fresh, local berries.  Wyman's are the wild berries - tiny and bursting with flavor.  And I know I sound like a commercial, but I just really like them.  And so do my kids.

I decided it would be more fun and cute (yes, that's influential at times) to make mini pies.  Initially I was going to use very mini tart pans - each little bitty pie a perfect mouthful of crust and fruit.  But then I decided to go with standard sized muffin tins instead.  Not a perfect mouthful, but a very nice little serving size.  And cute.

So here's what I did.

First of all, I made it quite clear that if they wanted pie, my kids would have to help.

Sorry, kiddo, but you gotta earn your blueberries.

She saw my point and set to work with a better attitude.

Alex helped, too.

 

We measured out ingredients for the pie crust.  Again, I used the "American Pie Dough for Fruit Pies" from Cook's Illustrated Magazine's book The Best Recipe.

2  1/2 cups flour

1 tsp salt

2 T sugar

12 T unsalted butter, chilled, cut into 1/4 inch pieces

8 T vegetable shortening, chilled, cut into 1/2 inch pieces

6-8 T ice water.

I put the flour, salt and sugar in the food processor and pulsed a few times to combine.  Then I added the pieces of butter and pulsed 5-6 times.  Then I added in the shortening...

And then my kids were singing and dancing on their chairs.

Must have been the anticipation of pie.

Yeah, that was it.

Despite the distraction, I managed to finish the dough.

I wrapped it in plastic and put it in the fridge to chill, and then we started in on the filling.

I used 4 cups of blueberries, 1/4 cup of tapioca, 1 cup of sugar, and a little lemon zest.

While Alex combined the blueberries and lemon zest...

Julia whisked the sugar and tapioca together.

Then they took turns blending the sugar mixture with the blueberry mixture.

The blueberries needed to sit for about fifteen minutes - to allow the tapioca to soften.  So while things were sitting in that bowl, we got the dough out and made our little pie crusts.

I used a 4" round cookie cutter - it's the largest circle I have -

and the circles of dough fit nicely in the muffin tins.

I also cut out little scalloped-edge circles to use as tops.

By this time, the children were exhausted from all the hard work, and they had gone downstairs to rest their weary bones.

I filled up the little pie shells (20 of them) with the blueberry filling and topped each with a little bit of butter.

And because I thought the little round tops would cook faster than the rest of the pies, I didn't put them on the pies initially.  Instead, while the mini pies started out in a 400 degree oven, I put all the smaller dough circles on a cookie sheet, brushed them with a wash of egg yolk, and sprinkled them with sugar.

I put this tray in the fridge while the pies cooked.

After 20 minutes, I turned the oven down to 350 and cooked the pies for another 30 minutes.

I took the pies out, then baked off the little lids, and then set them on the pies.

And I'll admit it - these aren't the prettiest things I've ever made.

A few changes I'd make next time around (and as long as Moose A Moose is counting blueberries, there'll definitely be a next time) would be these:

I would drain the juice from the blueberries before mixing them in with the sugar and everything else.  If this was for a standard sized pie, it wouldn't have mattered so much, but with these, I think there was just too much liquid.

I would also just go ahead and put the little lids on from the start. 

I'd also make the bottom crusts larger, so they'd come up higher than the rim of the muffin tin. 

However.

All those mistakes acknowledged, I will say, these were pretty yummy little pies.  Julia ate one.  And Alex ate two of 'em that night - warm, not long out of the oven.  He polished the first one off, a look of bliss on his little purple-stained face.  "Mom?"  He asked.  "Could I have another one?"   

And that was really the whole reason for baking them in the first place. 

Happy St. Joseph's Day!

I made a bunch of mini-zeppole for my husband to bring into work this morning.  I was a bit surprised to discover that I didn't have enough pastry cream for the amount of pate a choux shells I'd made.  The shells were about 2" or so in diameter, by the way, and the recipe I posted made about 54 shells.  So, if you're going to make these, I would either reduce the size of the pate a choux recipe or increase the pastry cream. 

Personally, I'd go for the pastry cream increase.  There's never too much pastry cream in the world.

And what, you may ask, am I going to do with the remaining shells?  Well, even though I've got pate a choux listed under "Desserts" over on the right, you can use them for sweet OR savory items.  You can add herbs or grated cheese to the pate a choux and then fill them with some sort of cheese mixture, like goat cheese or a smoked salmon and cream cheese and chive mixture.

Gotta go.  I'm getting hungry.

Update:  ACK!  I forgot a little dollop of whipped cream on top - something for the cherry to perch on.  See what happens when you don't plan well?  At least they taste pretty good.

Zeppole - One Version

 

Depending on who you ask, this may or may not be the correct kind of zeppole with which to celebrate St. Joseph's Day (March 19th).  I've read that traditional zeppole are actually fried dough tossed in cinnamon sugar.  Sounds good to me, actually. 

But here in Rhode Island, the zeppole we looked forward to are crisp pate a choux puffs usually filled with pastry cream or ricotta cream and topped with powdered sugar and a maraschino cherry. 

So that's what I've made.  Sorry I'm getting the recipes out so close to the wire.  But zeppole taste just as good on March 20th, or any other day of the year. 

To make the versions I made, you'll need recipes for Pastry Cream and Pate a choux, which, coincidentally, are the two posts previous to this one.  Funny how that worked out, huh?

If you're doing this all in one day, make the pastry cream first so it has time to chill while you bake the pate a choux. 

When you have the batter made for the pate a choux, place a large star tip in a piping bag and fill with the batter.  Pipe little rosettes on your parchment-lined paper.  Keep them level as much as possible, so they puff up evenly.

Here's a quick tutorial on piping rosettes...

Kind of down and around and around....

Once the rosettes are baked (brown on the outside, dry inside), take them out of the oven and allow them to cool completely before you fill them.

Next, fill a piping bag with pastry cream and use a narrow round tip.

(The tip in this photo is too big for the size zeppole I made.  Use something smaller.)

Next, make a little hole with the tip and fill the pate a choux with the pastry cream. 

(See what I mean?  That tip is way too big.)  (Sorry.)

To finish - dust with powdered sugar and top with a maraschino cherry.

If you're not going to serve them until later on in the day, refrigerate them. 

But, of course, it's important to sample one, at least.  You know.  To make sure they came out okay.

Pate a choux

Here's what you need:

8 oz unsalted butter (2 sticks)

1/4 oz salt

1/4 oz sugar

1 lb (one pint...two cups) milk or water

10.5 oz flour, sifted (bread flour preferably, or all-purpose if you don't have bread flour)

1 lb whole eggs (about 8-9 large eggs)

Here's what you do:

Place the butter, salt, sugar, and water/milk in a pot.

Bring to a boil.

Add all the sifted flour at once.

Stir with a wooden spoon

for about 5 minutes or until the mixture forms a ball that does not stick to the inside of the pot.

At this point, cook for an additional 3 minutes, stirring so nothing burns.

Remove from the heat and place the mixture in a mixing bowl.

Mix on low speed until cooled slightly.

Add the eggs gradually; mix on low speed; make sure each egg is fully incorporated before the next addition.

After about 2/3 of the eggs have been incorporated, check to see if the dough needs more.  Run a finger deeply through the mixture; if the trough does not close, add additional eggs (still one at a time, and check again after each addition). 

If the trough closes quickly, too many eggs have been added.  The trough should close slowly.

When enough eggs are fully incorporated, pipe into desired shapes on parchment-lined sheet pans.

Bake at 400-425 until brown on the outside and dry on the inside.

Pastry Cream

Here's what you need:

2 lbs whole milk

8 oz granulated sugar

pinch of salt

1.25 oz cornstarch

1/3 oz cake flour

4 oz egg yolks

2 oz whole eggs

2 oz unsalted butter

vanilla extract to taste

Here's what you do:

First - make sure you have the following items -

a large heavy-bottomed stainless steel sauce pot

a wooden spoon

a ladle

a wire whisk

two rubber spatulas

an ice water bath (a large metal bowl with equal parts ice and water - large enough for the sauce pot to fit into - and not so much ice water that it will overflow when the pot goes in.

Okay, now, here's what you do with everything:

Place 3/4 of the milk, about half of the sugar, and all of the salt, into the stainless steel pot. 

Stir to distribute sugar and salt.  Bring to a boil.  Do not stir.

(Before the milk comes to a boil) Place flour and cornstarch in a bowl.  Add remaining sugar

and milk.  Whisk together to get rid of any lumps of cornstarch.

When smooth, add eggs and yolks, and whisk together.

When milk mixture has come to a boil, shut off the heat and - whisking constantly with one hand, ladle half the milk mixture a little at a time into the whisking egg mixture.  This is called "tempering" - you're slowly bringing the eggs up to temperature, slowly so they don't become scrambled.  Once about half of the milk has been whisked in, pour the mixture in the bowl back into the remaing milk in the pot - still whisking.  Turn the heat back on and switch to the wooden spoon.

If you've used a rubber spatula to scrape any of this, toss that in the sink and use a clean one going forward.

Cook the mixture on medium heat, stirring CONSTANTLY.  The mixture will be very liquidy at first,

but gradually it will thicken. 

Once the mixture is pretty thick,

start tasting it.  (Don't stop stirring).

Pay attention to the taste and mouth feel - if you taste or feel any chalkiness, keep stirring.  The chalkiness is the uncooked flour. 

Once there is no longer any chalky taste or texture, remove the pan from the flame (and shut the flame off), stir in the butter until melted completely.

   

At this point, place pot in the ice water bath and keep stirring.

When the mixture cools a bit more, stir in vanilla to taste.

Once the mixture has cooled, scrape it into a bowl or other container

and place plastic wrap directly on the surface of the pastry cream.  This prevents a skin from forming.

Refrigerate until needed.

 

Lemon Sponge Pie with Chocolate Pastry Crust

For our Corned Beef Dinner I made a double batch of this Lemon Sponge Pie recipe, but instead of a standard pie crust, I made one with cocoa powder.  Chocolate and lemon go nicely together, so I figured I was onto something with the flavor combination.  The other nice feature is visual - the dark crust frames the golden yellow filling - it punches up the lemony yellow by providing contrast.

I made 2 tarts and 2 pies, and I should have just done 3 items.  On one hand, I wanted to make sure there would be enough for everyone.  (We were a total of 9 on Friday  night - and 3 were children.  I'm not sure WHY I expected us to go through that much dessert, but I just knew I didn't want to run out.  It would have been bad form, I suppose.) 

I made the dough for the crust on Thursday.  I'll give you the measurements I used, but if you've got a favorite pie crust recipe, I would say you're probably safe just adding some cocoa powder to the flour.  I used a quarter cup of cocoa powder for a 2-crust pie recipe, and it worked out nicely.  I like cocoa powder because you get a rich, chocolate flavor without any added sweetness.  You might have a bit of sugar in your crust recipe, and odds are the filling is pretty sweet, too, so you don't need any additional sweetness.  Just the rich chocolate flavor is fine.

Enough babbling.  Here's the chocolate crust info:

Oh - the recipe I used this time was from The Best Recipe, by the editors of Cook's Illustrated Magazine.  Cook's Illustrated approaches recipes from a test kitchen point of view.  Very scientific in the way their cooks sort through all the possible ways to make something - like a pie crust - and explain what happened as they tried various proportions, cooking times, and processes.  It's a great magazine for people that like to know why.  The book is a compilation of all of these experiments and explanations. 

I have used their method for cooking roast beef (seared brown on the outside and the slow-cooked in a 200 degree oven - it's sublime) and I've tried various recipes from Cook's Illustrated over the years.  I trust them. 

So here's the pie crust they have designated "The Best."

American Pie Dough for Fruit Pies

(For one double-crust 9 inch pie)

2   1/2 cups all-purpose flour,

plus extra for dusting dough and work surface

1 tsp salt

2 T sugar

12 T unsalted butter, chilled, cut into 1/4-inch pieces

8 T all-vegetable shortening, chilled

6-8 T ice water

(and for my chocolate crust - 1/4 cup cocoa powder)

And here's what you do:

1.  Mix flour, salt, and sugar (and cocoa powder) in food processor fitted with steel blade.

Scatter butter pieces over flour mixture, tossing to coat butter with a little of the flour.  (Because I had doubled the recipe, I didn't have room in my food processor to cut the butter in.  So I put it all in my larger stand mixer.)

Cut butter into flour with five 1-second pulses.  Add shortening and continue cutting in until flour is pale yellow and resembles coarse cornmeal, with butter bits no larger than small peas, about four more 1-second pulses.

Okay, I need to interrupt here because at this point I stopped following the Best Recipe's method.  Their recipe says to pour the flour/butter mixture into a bowl and sprinkle the ice water on top, and use a rubber spatula and a folding motion to work the water into the flour without overworking it.  I didn't do that. 

Also - with the cocoa powder in there, your flour isn't going to be pale yellow.  It's going to be brown with flecks of white (shortening) and yellow (butter).

To continue - I added the ice water, a couple of tablespoons at a time, to the flour mixture.

Drizzle water, then pulse.  Drizzle, pulse.  It really didn't take much water or many pulses to achieve a workable dough.

Form the dough into a ball

wrap in plastic,

and refrigerate at least half an hour before rolling it out.

Okay, now let's say some time has passed.  In my case, a day, as I made mine on Thursday and baked the pies/tarts on Friday (with help from my petite assistant, Julia).  Before you mix up the filling, you need to roll out the dough and get it into your tart or pie crusts into their pans and back in the fridge so the dough can stay chilled.  (If the dough is room temp when it goes into the oven, the already-warm fats will quickly and your crust will be kind of gummy beneath the filling.)

Take the dough out of the fridge and divide it in half if you're making two pies/tarts, or in quarters if, like me, you're making four.

Lightly flour your work surface and flatten one portion of dough slightly with your hands,

and then roll out your dough to the desired shape.  (One of my tart pans was rectangular, the other one and the two pie plates were round.)  Use flour sparingly to prevent the dough from sticking to your work surface or the rolling pin, and turn the dough in between rolls to keep the thickness and the shape uniform.

I rolled my dough out to about a quarter inch thickness or so.  The dough is rather fragile, so once you've got it the right size and shape, you can roll the dough back onto the rolling pin

and then unroll onto your pan.

Gently fit the dough down into the inner corners.  If it's a tart pan, trim off the excess right along the edge of the pan...

and if it's a pie pan, trim the dough to a uniform length of excess along the edge of the pan.  Tuck the dough edge under and press together.  Crimp the edges with your knuckles or fingers...or press down with the tines of a fork.  Whatever makes you happy.  I like to practice my crimping.

My assistant thinks my crimping still needs some more practice.

Okay - now get those pans back in the fridge and make the filling....

I've posted the recipe for Lemon Sponge Pie before, but what the heck - it's worth repeating. 

My mom got this recipe from a friend years and years ago, and for a while it became my birthday cake - because although I like to decorate them, I don't really like to eat them all that much. 

Here's what you need:  (keep in mind that in all the pictures, you'll be seeing a doubled version of this recipe)

3 T unsalted butter

1  1/4 C sugar

4 eggs, separated

3 T flour

a dash of salt

1  1/4 C milk

Grated rind of two lemons

1/3 C fresh lemon juice

And here's what you do with it:

Cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy.

Beat in the egg yolks,

flour, salt, milk, lemon peel and juice. Set aside.

In separate, VERY CLEAN, dry bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff

but not dried out.

Fold the meringue

into

the lemon mixture

and pour into your pie shells.

Bake at 375 for 15 minutes.

Lower the oven temperature to 300 degrees and bake until golden on top, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. This will be about 45 minutes or so, depending on your oven.

Let cool on a rack, and then put it in the fridge for a few hours or overnight.

A little story for you from last night.  We served up the lemon sponge tart with some fresh whipped cream (a half pint of heavy cream whipped with about a teaspoon of vanilla and two tablespoons of sugar), and someone said it was delicious, or very good, or something along those lines.

And Julia, without looking up from her plate, said "Thank you very much." 

"I made it all by myself," she added. 

Cherry Chocolate Chip Cheesecake

This was one of the two cakes made for my husband's birthday last week. 

My husband loves fresh cherries, and I had a bag of frozen cherries, so I thought I should incorporate them into something.  At first I was going to mix them into cake batter...but then I thought...cheesecake!

I didn't have a specific recipe - I kind of winged it with what I had in the fridge and the freezer and the pantry.  I had some cream cheese...I had an 8 oz container of mascarpone (that I hadn't needed when I made the Chocolate Tiramisu for one of my Valentine's Day posts...and frozen cherries...and chocolate chips. 

Now, personally, I'm a plain cheesecake kind of person.  I like some other flavors or toppings now and then, but if I could only have one kind ever?  Plain, NY style cheesecake is what I'd want.  But it wasn't my birthday.

So here's what I did.

First, I made a crust for the cheesecake.  Actually, not a crust.  I didn't have (oddly enough) ANY cookies or biscotti or anything like that to pulverize and mix with melted butter to make a typical cheesecake crust.  So then I thought - I just won't make a crust at all.  And then I thought that might not be socially acceptable, so I thought...hey, I've got sliced almonds...and sugar...and melted butter...that would taste good.

So I took about a cup and a half of sliced almonds and toasted them in a pan until they started to turn golden, and then let them cool a bit.

I melted about 2 tablespoons of butter.

I put the cooled almonds in my food processor, added about 2 tablespoons of sugar,

and pulsed to combine them and grind up the almonds a bit.

Then I poured all that into a bowl

and combined with the melted butter.

I used an 8 inch springform pan, and I wrapped a couple of sheets of foil around it (underneath and up the sides) so that water wouldn't get in later.  (Cheesecakes are often baked in water baths.)

I poured the almond mixture into the cheesecake pan,

spread it around so it covered the pan evenly, and patted it all into place.  Then I put the pan in the fridge while I made the batter.

When I decided to make cheesecake, I took out all the possible cheesecake components so they could start to come to room temperature.  (Those that were in the fridge, that is.)  Here's what I ended up using:

12 oz neufchatel cream cheese

8 oz mascarpone

2  6-oz containers of yogurt (one was blueberry, one was strawberry - both were Stoneyfield Farm, lowfat).  (Why yogurt?  Because I didn't have any more cream cheese or mascarpone, didn't have sour cream, and knew this cheesecake would need a bit more of something in the dairy dept.  Why blueberry and strawberry?  Because that's all that was left in the fridge.)

1/2 cup sugar

3 eggs

zest of one lemon

1  1/2 tsp vanilla

12 oz frozen cherries (thawed)

1/2 cup mini chocolate chips

I also got a large cake pan (larger in diameter than the springform pan I had prepped for the cheesecake) and set that aside.  I also set the oven to 350 degrees F.

Okay.

First thing to do, if for some reason (like, oh, not planning ahead) your cream cheese and mascarpone aren't softened yet, is to put them in your mixing bowl and beat them until they are smooth and soft and creamy.  If you don't, you'll have lumps of cream cheese or mascarpone in the cheesecake.  It doesn't ruin it, but it's not necessarily desirable.

Once you've got those two softened, add the yogurt...

and then the sugar...and the eggs

and the vanilla.

When the batter is nice and smooth,

stir in the cherries and lemon zest

and the chocolate chips

and combine well.

Pour the batter into your chilled springform pan and set that in the center of the larger cake pan.

Pour about an inch of water into the pan and place in the center of your oven.

Shut the oven door, set the timer for an hour, and go find something to occupy your time.

After an hour, go ahead and look at it.  It's not ready yet, which you can see if you jiggle the pan ever so gently.  There's still a lot of motion in there, right?  Not done.  So shut the oven door and check it again in about 30 minutes.  It's probably getting closer, but it's still not there, I bet.

Since you're using a rather gentle cooking method (the water bath), it's not going to suddenly be overcooked in another five minutes, so go ahead and let it cook another fifteen minutes or so.  Keep checking until the center barely moves (or doesn't at all), and then carefully take it out of the oven.   If you bring the whole thing - cake pan with VERY HOT water and springform pan - work slowly and carefully and set the whole thing down somewhere flat as soon as you can, just to avoid spilling any hot water on yourself.

Next, remove the springform pan from the water and set on a rack to cool. 

Remove the foil, too, by the way.  You should probably put a towel or paper towels under the rack - there will be drippage.

It's going to take a LOOOOOOOOOOONG time for the cheesecake to cool.  In fact, unless you're up early in the morning making this, don't plan on eating it until tomorrow.  After it comes to room temp, then you need to refrigerate it for a good long time - 6 hours or so, or overnight.  Yes, it was silly of me to make this ON Bill's birthday as a birthday cake...but I wasn't really thinking that far ahead when I started in.  I just thought - CHEESECAKE! - and I was off and baking.  Fortunately we had that other cake to eat on Bill's actual birthday. 

Anyway.  You've let the cheesecake cool to room temperature and you've refrigerated it for at least several hours or overnight.

When it's time to serve, the first thing you'll need to do is run a knife around the cake to separate it completely from the sides of the springform pan.  Then pop the hinge on the pan

and lift it off.

   

The easiest way (well one of them) to slice the cake is to run your knife under hot water before you make each cut. 

Wipe the knife clean in between cuts as well.  This way the cake won't stick to the knife and pull against the rest of the cake.

Not that it will taste any different.

Now some feedback...

Bill liked it a lot, and since I'd made it for him, that's really all that mattered.

Alex bravely tried a bite, but he didn't like it.  It's a texture thing.

Julia liked it.

My sister, her family, and some of her husband's friends who tried it also liked it.

My parents liked it.

And me?

Overall, I was surprised and happy with how well it turned out.  The "crust that's not a true crust" was fine, but it's a different texture from a traditional crust, so there's a bit of mental adjustment needed.  (Or not.  I think I'm the only one who had any mental adjusting to do.  Figures.)  The texture of the cheesecake was creamy and light, and the cherries added a nice burst of juicy fruitiness throughout. 

I'm not sure if I'd put the chocolate chips in again.  I guess I just don't like hard bits of things in my cheesecake, but that's just me.  I used mini chips, which I think was a better move than using the standard size, but maybe if I did this again, I'd make the following changes - I'd make a cookie crust, and then melt a layer of chocolate over the crust, chill that til it's hard, and then pour the cheesecake batter over the top and bake it.  Or...I'd serve it with a drizzle of chocolate ganache.  A healthy drizzle. 

Or maybe I'll make something without cherries...maybe steep toasted hazelnuts in some cream for a while and add that to the batter...with a ribbon of ganache running through it and more chopped, toasted hazelnuts on top...or in the crust...or both...and some whipped cream. 

Or maybe I'll just satisfy my purist heart and make a plain one.

Sigh.

To borrow from Sondheim, "so many...possibilities."

 

Super-Easy Mango Upside-Down Cake

Bill's birthday was earlier this week, and I ended up making not one, but two cakes for his birthday.  Why?  Because Alex doesn't like cheesecake.  Simple as that.  Plus, I was feeling creative and two cakes just seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do.  I also made a rather yummy dinner.  More on that in a later post.

Why is this cake "Super-Easy?"  Because a) I used a boxed cake mix in the pantry, and b) I had a bag of frozen mango on hand and didn't have to go shopping for anything special.

Here's what you need:

A 12-oz package of frozen mango chunks, thawed (or you can cut up some fresh mangos if you feel like it)

2 T unsalted butter

2 T white sugar

1/2 cup brown sugar

a box of golden cake mix

2/3 cup of water, 1 stick of softened butter and 3 eggs (for the cake mix, per the package instructions)

zest of 1 lime

2 cups confectioners sugar

1 T vanilla

hot water

Tablespoon or two of sweetened shredded coconut (optional)

an 8" square cake pan with 3" sides (or, if you want to, you could use 2 8" or 9" round cake pans and have one layer be the "upside-down" part and the other just a plain layer)

Got all that?

Okay, first, you put the 2 T of butter, 2 T white sugar and 1/2 cup brown sugar in a pan and melt everything together.  When it starts to bubble, add your mango chunks to the pan.

Stir together and let it simmer a bit. 

While the mangos simmer, grease the sides of your cake pan.

After a few minutes of simmering, pour the mangos and caramel mixture into the cake pan   

and, if necessary, rearrange the pieces of mango so they are distributed relatively evenly across the pan.

You can let that sit while you mix up the cake batter per the instructions.  Also - preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

Pour your cake batter on top of the mangos and smooth it out with a spatula so the batter completely covers the mango layer.  Be gentle - you want the mangos to stay on the bottom of the pan.

Now pop that in the oven and bake until - you know - a knife inserted in the center comes out clean.  This will take a while, as you're cooking more cake batter in the pan than if you were baking two layers.  Figure on 45 minutes to an hour.  But make sure you check with the knife. 

(you can see a couple of my stab marks in the picture above)

Let the cake cool on a rack for 20 minutes at least.  Pick out a serving plate.  Run a knife around the edge of the cake to make sure it's all separated from the sides of the pan.

Now the fun part:  Place the serving plate upside down on the pan. 

Hold the plate and cake pan together and after saying to yourself "nogutsnoglory," flip them over and set them back down on the counter.  The cake pan should now be upside down and on top of the serving plate, and more importantly, you should have felt the cake release from the pan and land on the plate.

Carefully lift the pan straight up... 

and there you go.  You can see a few stray cake crumbs up in the middle of the top of this cake (in the picture above) - a few pieces of mango stuck to the pan and I had to put them back on top, but you know what?  They'll still taste the same.  And it's not all that obvious unless you're self-critical like I am and you actually point it out to people. 

Let the cake finish cooling.

Now, my son wanted to decorate this cake, but it's not really something you want to cover up with frosting.  Not when it looks like this on top:

So I figured we could make a glaze and Alex could drizzle that over the top and that would constitute the decorating. 

So I grated the zest from a lime.  Why?  I was thinking mango...tropical...lime... and so that's why.

I put about 2 cups of confectioners sugar in a bowl and gradually added hot water while Alex stirred it together.  I wanted a relatively thick glaze, and I added a bit too much water at first and had to add a bit more confectioners sugar to thicken it up.   Then I added in the lime zest, vanilla and the shredded coconut and had Alex give it a final whisk.

At that point Alex decided he didn't feel like decorating the cake after all.  He said I could handle it, and hopped down from his chair and left the kitchen.

I just drizzled the glaze back and forth across the top of the cake on a diagonal, and decided that was enough. 

Here's how it looked from the side:

 

A few candles...a round of Happy Birthday (which we sang the way Alex's kindergarten class sings it - "Happy birthday to you, cha-cha-cha, Happy Birthday to you, cha-cha-cha...and so on...with accompanying hip-wiggling.  It was kind  of fun.)...and dessert was served.

Alex didn't like the mango part.  Julia wasn't really feeling well so she just had a little taste and said she was full.  But Bill liked it, and so did I.  Some of the caramel part baked up into the cake, and the whole thing had a slightly dark, cooked sugary taste.  Pretty yummy.

And, like I said, super easy.

Cakes - Thomas the Tank Engine - Calvin's Birthday 1996

My nephew was a huge Thomas the Tank Engine fan when he was little.  I remember him saying it like this - "Thomas the Tank-gen" - for a while.  He knew all the names of the engines, and had a bunch of the books...and for his birthday, he wanted a Thomas cake. 

Now, even back then, I had become a bit of a creative snob and didn't want to use a character cake pan, but my I guess I realized Wilton had done a better job of creating the pan than I might do freehand, so when my sister handed it to me, I used it.

And then - horror of horrors, when it came time to decorate the cake, I was suddenly reliving a 6th grade oil painting class I took...

I had taken painting lessons and art classes since I was nine or ten, I think.  But all the painting I had done was in acrylic.  So this class in oils was a huge culture shock.  Acrylics dry fast, oils don't.  Acrylics are thin, oils are thick.  Acrylics liked me, oils most certainly did not.

One of the assignments in that class was to find a picture of either an old person (lots of wrinkles) or an "ethnic" person.  I swear, that's how I remember it being phrased.  So in some magazine with pictures of the old west (I think), I found a portrait of a Native American gentleman.  His skin was aged by the sun, and he wore these fur wraps around his two braids.  He had a somber and interesting face, so that's what I chose.  He seemed "ethnic" enough for the assignment.

I had no problems with him, for the most part.  Until I had to do the eyes. 

Now, in my acrylic experience, I actually did a pretty fair job with eyes.  I have (somewhere) a head shot of a leopard or jaguar, and the eyes look really good.  Or they did when I was eleven.  Glassy and real.

So it came as quite a horrible surprise to me to discover that I wasn't so good at it with the oils.  With acrylic paint, if I screwed up, I could just paint over it.  With oils, more paint meant more layers, and oil layers are thick layers.  Now that I think about it, I also hadn't done a lot of human eyes, either, and that could have contributed to the problem.  But mostly I blame the oils.

My somber and dignified Native American gentleman had Marty Feldman eyes when I finally gave up and flung my brushes at the wall.  Really.  Three-dimensional eyeballs bulging from this otherwise not awful - and flat - portrait. 

It haunts me still.

And so, when I was doing Thomas, I did fine with all the little train details - I just copied the picture that came with the pan.  Got his little bulbous nose and his innocent smile okay. 

But the eyes.  The eyes...

I just could not get them to look, well, Thomasy.  I hated the eyes.  Hated them.  Insipid, popping, Thomas eyes.

I finally had to give up and put the icing down.  My sister was probably pulling it away from me while I was still trying to make the eyes look correct.  I cursed my lack of skill.  I cursed Thomas.  And I cursed oil paint, too, just because.

Well, the birthday party took place - the cake itself, by the way, was strawberry, per Calvin's request, with chocolate frosting underneath all the decorative stuff - at my sister's house.  Kids and balloons and parents and cameras.  Calvin sitting in the birthday boy seat at the head of the table in my sister's dining room.  I brought the cake in while everyone sang Happy Birthday, and I swear those horrible eyes were looking right at me, mocking my lack of talent and skill, laughing at me...

I set the cake down in front of Calvin, and he said these magic words:

"That's the best Thomas I ever saw!"

Did I tell you he's my very favorite human on the planet? 

And here's that cake:

Stop looking at me, Thomas.  Just stop it.

Valentine's Day Ideas: Chocolate Tiramisu

 

I made Tiramisu for the first time about...um...maybe 9 years ago for Bill's birthday.  I wasn't new to the family any more, but I still felt self-conscious about some things, like making dessert.  Anyway, Bill requested tiramisu, so I found a recipe and did my best.  I wasn't happy with how it turned out - it was too liquidy - but there was no time to make something else, so that's what was served.  Bill's nephew Joe got the first serving.  He was oh, maybe 15 or something at the time.  He took one bite and sang out "RUMMMMM!" and I cringed.  No wonder it was so runny.  But everyone loved it - probably because of the rum. 

I've made it a few times since over the years, and if I can give any advice to you out there, it would be this:  USE THE CRISP LADYFINGERS IF AT ALL POSSIBLE - THEY'RE CALLED SAVOIARDI.  And I put that in all caps because it makes a huge difference in how liquidy your dessert turns out.  I also put it in all caps because I actually did NOT use them when I made this dessert, and while it came out nice - tastewise and all, it was seeping coffee.  And why?  Because I used the soft, cake-like little ladyfingers the bakery at the local Stop & Shop makes, and they are like starving sponges when you dip them into the coffee...and then they are like mush .0000002 of a second later.  So it is worth it to take the time to FIND the Savoiardi if you possibly can.  I shouldn't have been such a slug.

Anyway.  That's enough of that. 

One of the issues with making Tiramisu is the whole raw egg thing.  Traditional recipes call for egg yolks, that are just beaten with sugar but not cooked, when making the creamy filling part.  Other recipes avoid the eggs completely, which solves the salmonella worries, but takes a few too many steps away from tradition for me.  The best compromise I have seen is to make a Zabaglione, also spelled zabayon, which is a smooth, light, custardy sauce made of egg yolks, sugar, and Marsala wine.  When you make the zabaglione, you place the yolks, sugar and wine in a double boiler, or a bowl set on a pot of simmering water (the bowl must not touch the water, however, or it will cook the eggs too much.)  Anyway, while the mixture is over the water, you whisk and whisk like there's no tomorrow, and what you're doing is incorporating some air in the mixture, which lightens it, and you're also very, very gently heating the yolks and killing any pesky salmonella critters that might be hanging around.  The texture of the final product is soft and foamy and voluptuous. 

So.  First thing you need to to is make the zabaglione.  Oh, and since it's for Valentine's Day, how about a chocolate zabaglione?  (If you don't want chocolate, leave out the cream and chocolate in this recipe.)

Chocolate Zabaglione:

You'll need...

4 T heavy cream

1/3 cup semi-sweet chocolate (either chips, or chopped up)

6 egg yolks

1/2 cup sugar and a pinch of salt

1/3 cup Marsala wine

In a small saucepan, scald the cream (heat it to almost a boil) and stir in the chocolate chips

until they are melted and the mixture is smooth.

Remove from heat and set aside.

Combine the yolks, the wine, and the sugar and salt in a bowl

and set the bowl on a pot of simmering water. 

The water should only be about an inch deep, and the bowl must not touch the water, so the shape and size of the bowl you use is rather important.

Whisk the egg yolk mixture constantly for about 4-5 minutes.  The texture of the mixture will change - it will thicken and increase in volume a bit as well. 

Remove the mixture from the heat, and stir in the melted chocolate/cream mixture. 

When combined, pour into a shallow pan (I used a glass pie plate) and cover with plastic wrap.  Place in the refrigerator until completely chilled.

While the zabaglione is chilling, you should assemble the following:

8 oz mascarpone (an Italian cheese similar to cream cheese) (room temp if possible)

1/2 heavy cream

2/3 cup sugar (separated into two 1/3 cup amounts)

2  1/2 cups espresso (warm, not hot)

1/4 cup dark rum (optional)

25-30 crisp ladyfingers (Savoiardi)

Place the heavy cream in a mixing bowl and beat until it starts to thicken.  Slowly add in 1/3 cup sugar and continue beating until firm peaks form.

   

Fold the cream into your mascarpone.  (* It's helpful if the mascarpone is soft, otherwise you're folding a soft texture into a rather firm texture, and you could end up with lumps of mascarpone if you're not patient and careful.)

   

Then fold the chilled zabaglione into the cream and mascarpone mixture

and set aside.

Add the rum (if you're using it) and the other 1/3 cup sugar to the espresso and stir until the sugar has dissolved.

You'll also need an 8 x 8 inch baking pan, or a standard sized loaf pan, or, if you want to be Valentine-silly like me, you can use an 8" heart-shaped cake pan.  Whatever shape you decide on, you want to line it with plastic wrap so that the plastic hangs way over the edges of the pan.  (Why?  Because you're eventually going to unmold this onto a serving plate of some kind, and the plastic keeps the tiramisu from sticking to the walls of the pan.  That's why.)

Okay.  Now, one at a time, dip the ladyfingers in the coffee mixture and arrange on the bottom of the pan. 

Spread one third of the zabaglione

on top of the ladyfingers.

Continue with more ladyfingers,

zabaglione, ladyfingers,

and the final layer of zabaglione.

Cover with the ends of the plastic wrap

and chill for 6 hours.  Yes, 6.  Okay, 5 will work, too.  But if you are going to unmold this dessert, you need to give it plenty of time to set first.

(The spatula is yours to do with as you wish.)

   

When you're just about ready to serve, get about half a cup of heavy cream, some sugar (maybe 2 tablespoons) and orange extract if you have it.  If you don't, vanilla is fine.  Whip the cream like you did earlier, adding the sugar when it starts to thicken, and stirring in a few drops (use it very sparingly, you just want a hint of flavor) of the orange extract at the end.  If you want to get fancy, get a piping bag with a large star tip and fill that with the whipped cream.  If you don't want to bother with that, you'll just need a spatula to spread the cream with.  Also, you'll need some cocoa powder in a sifter, and either shaved chocolate or mini chocolate chips. 

Take the pan of tiramisu out of the fridge.  Have your serving plate ready. 

It should be bigger in diameter than the pan.  Carefully peel back the plastic wrap covering the tiramisu. 

Place the plate upside down on the pan. 

Slide your hand under the pan, and hold the plate in place with your other hand.  Now, in one quick, bold, fearless motion (I always say "No guts no glory" at moments like this - I know, I'm weird.  But it's my way of psyching myself up.) flip the plate and pan over.  Set them down on your work area and if the pan looks like it isn't nicely centered (if you care about that), now is the time to gently slide it where it needs to go. 

Then, remove the pan. 

And then carefully peel away the plastic wrap.

Now if, like me, you end up using the softer ladyfingers (you can also use pound cake if you can't find any sort of ladyfingers), and you find the tiramisu is seeping coffee onto your plate, set a few paper towels around the plate so the edges of the towel are touching the coffee.  They'll soak up whatever liquid is there while you decorate the top.

Yay - you're almost done!  Now, either spread or pipe the whipped cream on the top of the tiramisu.

(You can do the sides, if you want to, but I like the look of the layers.) 

Then dust with cocoa powder

and sprinkle your chocolate shavings or mini chips on top and - TA-DA!! - you did it!

Now serve some up...

and, of course,

enjoy.

 

Cakes - Coffin Cake - 1996

And of course there's a stoy behind this one, too.

Actually, this (now that I'm thinking about it) was my original idea for a Halloween birthday cake for some coworkers, but then after I came up with the idea, someone affiliated with our company drowned while attending our company's annual convention, which, that year, was maybe in Mexico or somewhere - some place on a beach, anyway.  It was awful.  Horrible.  And making a cake in the shape of a coffin was suddenly not a very tasteful idea.  So that was when I came up with the Spider Cake idea. 

I'd already made the coffin lid out of gingerbread, though, and I'd bought the other decorations for it, so I made it up and gave it to the son of a friend of mine, whose birthday was right around Halloween somewhere.  He was turning 10, if I remember correctly, so something creepy and gross was perfect for him.

The cake was a 13 x 9 cake.  The cake mix was for a white cake - I'd mixed in a lot of food coloring to make it red.  Bwa ha ha ha. 

Anyway.  I covered the cake (cut in the same shape as the coffin lid) in chocolate frosting. 

I had painted the coffin lid with brown royal icing and my cake notes (yes, I have index cards with the cake pictures) say "woodgrain w/royal icing."  I am not sure if that means I used some kind of comb or something to create a woodgrain directly in the icing, or if I'd painted the woodgrain pattern on with another shade of brown.  And when I look at the picture, either or both of those ideas could have been used.  I don't remember.

To assemble it, I placed the cake in a shallow, disposable aluminum foil pan.  I had a few gummy worms crawling out of the coffin - they helped prop up the coffin lid nicely.  I surrounded the cake with crumbled chocolate cake "dirt," and added more gummy worms and some little black plastic house flies here and there.

The worms go in...the worms go out...

Valentine's Day Ideas: Poached Pears with Syrup and Creme Anglaise

For many reasons, the poached pear is one of my favorite desserts.  First, just look at it.  The color, the jewel-like tone - very elegant.  Second - it's fruit!  It's an ordinary pear, transformed.  It's Cinderella at the ball.  Okay, that's a bit overboard, but still.  Poaching takes the pear to a new level.  The pear's natural sweetness is enhanced by a long, leisurely bath in sugar and water and wine and spices, and at the same time, the pale color is replaced by this rich purpley hue.  The fruit is juicy and light - a satisfying, but not bloating, way to end a meal.

Have I rhapsodized enough?

Okay.  To make the whole display you see in the picture above, you'll also need (in addition to the recipe I'm about to share) the following two recipes:

Creme Anglaise

and

Florentines.

Now.  Let us poach.  Oh, and before I forget, you either want to make these in the morning to serve in the evening, or make them the day before. 

You will need:

3 cups dry red wine

3 cups water

1 lb, 8 oz sugar

1 cinnamon stick

3 whole cloves

A large sauce pot

And - 4 pears - ripe, but firm, with no bruises (if possible), and, also if possible, stems intact.

(Now, depending on the size saucepot you have, you may need to increase the other ingredients in order to cover the pears while they're in the liquid.  Just increase proportionately, as best you can.  It doesn't have to be perfect.)

Place the water, wine, sugar, cinnamon stick and cloves in the saucepot and bring to a boil.

While the poaching liquid is heating up, you'll need to peel the pears.  You need to peel every little bit of skin off, but leave the stem on.  (It's also a good idea to remove the core carefully through the bottom of the pear.  And slice the bottom of the pear so it stands up nicely, if you are planning to serve the pear upright on the plate.  In this photo session, I COMPLETELY FORGOT to core the pears.  This is what happens when your mind is not entirely on the job.)

Anyway, once you've peeled your pears completely...

here's a swell trick I learned.  Get a brand new nylon scrubby thing - those green ones you use to scrape stuck-on food off your nonstick pans.  And by gently scrubbing the surface of the pear, you can remove those "peel lines" so your pear will look like this:

Oooooooooh!

Pretty cool, huh?

Do that with all of your pears, and then core them and level off the bottom if you want to. 

Once the poaching liquid reaches a boil, place the pears in the liquid.  This is when you need to make sure the pears can be completely submerged.  Yes, they'll float to the top if you let them, but just check by pushing them under a bit.  If there's space, you're in good shape.  If not, add at least some more water.  If you need a lot more liquid, also add some more wine and sugar.

In order to poach (and color) the pears evenly, you need to keep them submerged.  The poaching liquid is too hot for you to stand there and do it manually, plus you'd be standing there for a really long time, so the best things to try out are items like pot lids or pie plates or cake pans.  I had an 8" cake pan that fit perfectly in the pot and kept all four pears under the level of the liquid.

Let the pears simmer while you do other things, like wash the floors, or do all your laundry, or watch your car or something.  Really.  Just check on it periodically.  As the liquid reduces, the temperature will creep back up, so you'll have to lower the temperature a bit from time to time.

And while you're checking on the simmer status, it's also interesting to check the color of the pears every now and then.

Early on, they'll start to absorb the color of the wine, and they'll begin to turn pink.  But after a few hours...

They'll look like this.

Once they achieve the color you're looking for AND they are soft but not mushy, shut off the heat, remove the cake pan from the liquid, and allow the whole mixture to cool.  Put the cooled pot of liquid and pears in the fridge for either several hours or overnight.

The pears, at this point are done.  You've still got all this liquid, though, and it'd be a shame to waste it.  So...what should you do?

Make a syrup!  Follow me...

Remove the pears from the liquid and place in another container in the fridge.  Put the pot of liquid on a burner and heat it back up again.  If you want to, you can add other spices or flavorings as well.  I put raisins in mine. 

Heat the liquid to boiling and then reduce to a simmer.  Simmer and simmer and simmer until the liquid has reduced by at least half.  As it cools, the liquid will thicken because it is now - voila! - a syrup. 

And now, if you want to be fancy, pour some syrup on your plate, and some creme anglaise, add your pear, garnish with some raisins and a florentine (or other cookie, if you prefer).

And beware.  If you're not careful, someone will try to swipe some.

 

How is it, Julia?

And really.  Who's more honest than a three-and-a-half-year-old about her likes and dislikes?

No one. 

(P.S. To see another poached pear recipe idea, click here.)

Valentine's Day Ideas: Bananas Foster Napoleons

I like Bananas Foster, but to me it's lacking something.  Maybe I was too strongly influenced by my 5 trimesters at Johnson & Wales.  When plating desserts, we were taught that the dessert needed 4 components:  the main item, a sauce, a garnish, and - my favorite - a crunch component.  Which is probably why when I wrote up that idea for Boca Negra Hearts it also included a sauce (actually two), a garnish (the raspberries) and a crunch component - the florentine heart.  (Of course, I ignored that whole 4-part thing with the Creme Brulee and the Cannoli, but hey, rules are made to be broken.  At times.

Anyway, for me, Bananas Foster needs something else.  So here's what I came up with:

You will need:

1 package frozen puff pastry dough

2 ripe bananas

Good vanilla ice cream

2 T unsalted butter

2 T white sugar

2 T brown sugar

4 oz banana liqueur

2 oz rum

Ready? 

Okay, either in the morning or the day before, make the puff pastry hearts.  (Or circles or rectangles if you prefer - I just thought, you know, hearts...valentine's day...)

You want to thaw the puff pastry dough in the fridge the day BEFORE you plan to use it - I mean, say you are going to make this dessert this Thursday.  Take the puff pastry dough from the freezer and put it in the fridge on Tuesday so you can make the hearts on Wednesday. 

Once the dough has thawed, preheat the oven to 400 degrees F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  Unwrap the dough and dust your work surface with a little flour.  Roll the dough out to help smooth out any creases.  Cut out whatever shapes you plan to use, and place them on your baking sheet.  Place them in the fridge for half an hour.

When you're ready to bake them, first, brush with an egg wash (1 egg + a tablespoon of water, mixed together) to give them a nice shine.

Slide them into the oven and shut the door.  Unless you meant to take a picture of them first, in which case, just open the door, crouch down, and snap a picture.  Like this.

The package of puff pastry dough should tell you how long to bake them for - I believe these cooked for 20 minutes.  You want to make sure they are cooked through - not just pretty on the outside.

Allow them to cool completely, then put them in a ziploc bag until you need them.

Now for the bananas. 

First, place your butter and the two sugars in a pan and set your heat on medium. 

As they start to melt, stir them together to blend.

While that's going on, peel and slice your bananas.  Traditionally, the bananas are sliced lengthwise, and then cut in half cross-wise.  But I cut them into "coins" instead.

When your butter/sugar mixture is nice and bubbly,

add the bananas,

and add in the banana liqueur and the rum.  Now, usually when Bananas Foster is made tableside in a restaurant, the waiter will flambe it with the rum.  I wanted to, but I hadn't thought about it when I selected this pan, and I couldn't tilt the pan into the flame without the banans and sugar spilling out.  So I just put the rum straight in and let it all cook on medium low while I got the rest of the dessert ready.

First, get out your ice cream so it can soften a bit.

Next, with a sharp knife, separate the top from the bottom of each of 4 puff pastry hearts.  Place the bottom of one heart in the bottom of a bowl.

Top that with some ice cream...

and then top that with a second bottom slice of puff pastry heart.

And then...when the bananas are soft and look kind of like this...

Spoon half the banana mixture on top of the puff pastry and ice cream...

and finish with two top halves of the puff pastry hearts.  Like so....

Repeat with the other two split puff pastry hearts, some more ice cream, and the rest of the bananas.  Serve immediately.

Now that I think about it, this would also make a pretty yummy breakfast, too.

 

Cakes: Autumn Cake #1 - 1996

Another birthday cake for a coworker.  I did a lot of them during this period of a year or two.  And actually I did three versions of this cake - another one for a friend of mine, and the third was for a bake sale raffle at work.

Anyway - basically with this one I was still learning how to play with fondant and food coloring, and also how to make decorations with royal icing.

So for this cake, I colored some lumps of fondant ("lumps" - yeah, all these technical terms...) in different colors - autumn leaf colors, basically.  green, yellow, orange and red.  And then I smushed them together into one lump and rolled them out into one big patchwork piece of colors. 

Looking at it now, it strikes me as kind of garish.  I'd do something different.  But it was fun.

Anyway, so that was the background for the other stuff - the royal icing leaves.  I had bought a little set of cookie cutters that included 4 or 5 different leaf shapes and a pumpkin.  I traced the leaf shapes to use as templates.  Then I placed the templates under parchment paper (which is translucent) and piped the outline of the leaves with royal icing directly onto the parchment.  (Royal icing won't stick to parchment when it dries.)  And then, I filled the leaves with thinned royal icing in a different color.  (I was using the same colors I'd used for the fondant, with the addition of brown.  I also cut out leaves from the scraps of fondant. 

When the royal icing leaves were dry, I glued them all over the cake with dots of royal icing.  (Royal icing is so handy!)  And I surrounded the cake with the fondant leaves, probably to hide my less-than-perfect trimming of the fondant that covered the cake.

And this is what it looked like:

Oh, yeah, and inside, the cake consisted of two layers of lemon cake alternating with two layers of yellow & chocolate marble cake.  The frosting between the layers was chocolate.

Valentine's Day Ideas: Chocolate Hearts with Raspberry Coulis and Creme Anglaise

Here's something to make if you've got time to prepare for it and if you really want to strut your culinary stuff this Valentine's Day.  It's got chocolate, it's got Valentine's Day colors (red, white, and, um, chocolate), and it's very, very, very yummy.

There are four recipes you will need to make in order to put this whole thing together.  All of them can be made a day or two in advance.  And, just to make it nice and easy, all of them are listed on this site.

You'll need to make:

Boca Negra

Raspberry Coulis

Creme Anglaise

Heart-shaped Florentines (see the pictures in my post).

(All these recipes are posted below, just keep scrolling.)

Once you've made all of those, here's what you do.

First, have your coulis and the creme anglaise nearby, with a small ladle or spoon ready for each.

Have one of your heart-shaped chocolate-filled Florentine "sandwiches" nearby as well. 

And a few fresh raspberries are a nice addition as well.  I used a few of the frozen ones that didn't fall apart once they thawed.

Get out your Boca Negra out of the fridge, and, using a heart-shaped cookie cutter or a knife, cut out a heart about 3 inches wide. 

Now, on your dessert plate...

1.  Ladle some of the raspberry coulis first.  Swirl it gently to cover the center portion of the plate.

2.  Place the boca negra heart on the plate so that the two curved parts are at about 10:00 and 12:00.  (Symmetry is uninteresting on a plate.)

3.  Ladle some of the creme anglaise so it is draped across the right side of the heart.  Don't cover the whole thing.  Think scarf, not shawl.

4.  Lean your florentine heart cookie against the boca negra heart so the right curve of the cookie is at about 2:00.

5.  Garnish with the raspberries.

6.  Step back and marvel at your creation.

7.  Now go and get the utensil of your choice and dig in.  After all, you should make sure it tastes good before you serve it to anyone else, right?

Creme Anglaise

Also know as English Cream or English Sauce.  It's the base for vanilla ice cream, too. 

This is a cooked sauce - you make it in a pot on the stove - and is thickened only with egg yolks and cream.  It can be used, like I said, as a base for vanilla ice cream, and you can also give it other flavors, either by infusing it with nuts, or adding extracts or spices, fruits, etc.  It's basically a great launching pad.

Here's how you make the basic sauce:

First, assemble the ingredients -

4 oz whole milk

4 oz heavy cream

2 oz granulated sugar

a pinch of salt

2  1/4 oz egg yolks

vanilla extract - to taste

You will also need the following (and it's best to have everything measured out and in the right bowls, with the right tools, before you begin, as things will happen rather quickly once you get under way):

a sauce pot

a small bowl and a whisk

a ladle

a rubber spatula

a wooden spoon

a candy thermometer

a medium bowl

a second spatula

an ice water bath (a big bowl with half ice and half water)

a mesh strainer

a third bowl

Okay.  Once you've got everything measured out, place the milk, cream, about half the sugar, and the salt in the sauce pot. 

Set the pot on a burner but don't turn it on yet.

In the small bowl, put your egg yolks and whisk them together to combine.

The vanilla won't be used until a bit later - set that aside along with the water bath.

Have everything nearby while you are at the stove.

Okay, ready?

Turn on the burner to medium high and scald the milk mixture (which means to bring it to ALMOST a boil - you want to see little bubbles around the edges of the milk in the pot, but you don't want a rolling boil.

Now shut off the heat. 

Have your bowl of egg yolks and sugar next to the stove, with the whisk in one hand.  With the other hand, ladle out some of the milk mixture

and - while you whisk the yolks with the first hand, slowly pour the milk mixture into that same bowl with the other hand.  Do that once more with another ladle of the milk, still whisking.

Now pour the egg mixture from the bowl into the pot with the rest of the milk and stir continually with the wooden spoon.  (Turn the heat back on to about medium.)

 

(That whole drama was what's referred to as "tempering" the yolks.  You're gently and slowly warming them up with a bit of the milk so that they don't become scrambled eggs when you pour them into the pot on the stove.  Don't be discouraged if you see little bits of coagulated egg in there - it takes a while to learn to do this perfectly.  I haven't made this in ages so I'm very rusty.  And besides - that's what the mesh strainer will be for.)

Okay, now it's a good idea now to put the candy thermometer in the pot with the milk mixture now if you haven't already.  Another bit of drama when you're making this is that the mixture MUST NOT be heated beyond 180 degrees F.  If it does, you've cooked the eggs too much and you might as well fry up some bacon and have breakfast.

So - stir with the spoon and stare unblinkingly at the thermometer.  When it gets to 175, go ahead and take it off the stove, as it will keep rising quickly and you might cook it too long.  Pour the sauce directly into the medium-sized bowl and place that on the ice bath RIGHT AWAY to stop the cooking proces