The Barefoot Kitchen Witch

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),