Tag Archives: baking

Modern Baker Challenge: Lime-Scented Wafers

I don’t make cookies as often as you might expect–for someone who blogs a lot about baking, if you poke around here enough you’ll note that my posts on this topic are scant.  It’s probably just a matter of taking the easy way out–I just prefer something I can stir together and dump into a pan all at one go.  (So when I figured out that you can basically bake muffins as a quick bread, you can guess what happened).

Lime Scented Wafers (1 of 5)

However, I did sign up for the Modern Baker Challenge, and a few weeks ago, you might just recall, was Christmas, so it’s practically obligatory to turn a few batches of cookies out of the oven.  With no particular plan in mind I leafed through my second copy of the Modern Baker down in DC. (It’s not because I’m obsessed that I have a spare:  Nick Malgieri was kind enough to send all us participants a personalized signed copy so I now have two, which turned out to be quite convenient).  I paused at the page for the lime-scented wafers–citrusy, simple, with a single batch turning out enough to feed a crowd, this seemed like the perfect option.

Lime Scented Wafers (2 of 5)

This is nothing more than a basic roll cookie–formed into a tube, chilled, and sliced–scented with lime juice, coated in lime zest and sugar crust.  Pretty simple, but like many things that are simple, difficult to get absolutely perfect.  Aesthetically at least.  It might be failure begetting failure, with me making bar cookies too infrequently to get the technique down, but my carefully rolled cylinders always emerge from the fridge flattened at the base.  So instead of crisp little cookie disks I get something looking either like a deflated tire or worse, a badly drawn rectangle.  I tried to smoosh them back into the desired shape as I placed them one by one onto the baking sheet but it got to be tedious, and with the dough softening more and more I wasn’t improving matters.  For those of you baking along, I also ended up using only about half of the lime sugar coating.    I meant to find some creative use for it, but with kitchen real estate being very tight in a full house, down the garbage disposal it eventually went.  If you make these, I’d say you only need half the quantity called for.

Lime Scented Wafers (3 of 5)

Fortunately, I am not a professional baker, and my in-laws are not so fussy about the details as long as the cookie tastes as it should.  (Substance over form here, people).  Crisp and fragrant, with a crunchy sugar edge, it was a welcome component of my husband’s family’s traditional “Platter of Sin.”  They softened a bit after a few days, but were still being happily nibbled on.

Lime Scented Wafers (4 of 5)

So while these cookies were definitely not a disappointment (and there was an impressive quantity of them), I’d still say I have to work out a few kinks before I become a cookie-making superhero.  In the meantime, if there’s any secret tricks you’d care to share, I’m all ears.

I leave you with a shot of the infamous Platter of Sin.  And be assured, that’s only a small portion of it, lest you have any fears that it’s not sinful enough.

Lime Scented Wafers (5 of 5)

Christmas Cookies-A Recap

That’s it. Nothing too out of the ordinary.  I decided to make some Christmas cookies when I realized I otherwise wasn’t going to get through the Modern Baker Challenge chapter on cookies, and that this was the perfect motivation.

Then, weeks passed and I realized that it’s was going to be really hard to make the more challenging raspberry sandwiches as opposed to making the very simple sugar cookies. I also had a hard time imagining the more fancy cookies in the shapes of dancing reindeer and glitter. Williams Sonoma have some great cookie cutters and stamps and rollers that you can roll into the dough after you cut the shape. Christmas trees, ornaments, and snowflakes. Gotta love em. If anyone is inspired by these amazing cookies (hmph) then Sara’s favorite King Arthur Flour also has a great selection available for the future holidays. Every holiday seems to have a cookie shape now. Take your pick.

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I would say the hardest part of making these cookies was the icing. I really thought that I could ice them just like the box picture. Not so. Not so. The more fun I had rolling stars and bells in the cookies, the more I was cursing under my breath to get the icing in the right lines. The easiest ended up being the snowflakes with the straight lines believe it or not. Squiggly lines are so easy to mess up if they aren’t symmetrical and straight lines are easy when there is a indentation to follow.

Either way the best part of the entire project was bagging them in the clear baggies. I got to put these really cute gift tags on all of them (for my friends in NYC) and they covered up the flaw here or there. Also a handful of M and M’s at the bottom of the bag doesn’t make anyone upset so why not?

Maybe next year, I’ll graduate up to a Modern Baker cookie. ;)

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Recipes

Sugar Cookies:

Below is the recipe that I got right from the William Sonoma website! I also bought the food dye from William Sonoma. A couple people have asked what type of dye I used. At William Sonoma it’s called “Food Paste-Vivid Color.” Before I refrigerated the dough, I divided it into three parts and re-blended the dough with the color (only about 2-3 drops) in the mixer. The color turned out fantastic and I’m excited to use them again.

16 Tbs. (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room
temperature
3/4 cup sugar
3 egg yolks
1 piece vanilla bean, about 2 inches long, or
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
Colored sugars and decorating pens

Directions:
In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the flat beater, beat together the butter and sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 4 minutes. Add the egg yolks one at a time, beating well after each addition. Cut the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and, using a small, sharp knife, scrape the seeds into the butter mixture. If using vanilla extract, add it now. Mix well.

In a sifter, combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Sift the flour mixture directly onto the butter mixture. Reduce the speed to low and beat until well mixed.

Turn the dough out onto a work surface and divide into 4 equal portions. Shape each portion into a ball, then flatten the balls into disks. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. (The dough can be prepared up to 3 days ahead.) Let it soften slightly at room temperature before continuing.

Position a rack in the upper third of an oven and preheat to 350°F. Butter 2 large baking sheets.

On a lightly floured work surface, roll out a dough disk 1/4 inch thick. Using cookie cutters, cut out desired shapes. Transfer the cutouts to the prepared baking sheets. Gather up and reroll the scraps and cut out more cookies. Repeat with the remaining dough disks.

Bake until the cookies are golden on the edges, about 8 minutes. Transfer the cookies to wire racks and let cool completely. Decorate the cookies as desired with colored sugars and decorating pens. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 1 week.
Makes 24 to 30 cookies, depending on cutter size.

Royal Icing:

So I have been searching for the exact recipe I used for my royal icing. Sad to say, I can’t find the exact one.

Here is a variation:

1lb of confectioners sugar
2 egg whites
Lemon juice from one lemon

Mix it up and taste. It’s fabulous……
If it’s too runny just add more sugar until it’s stiff. It’s then easy to add to the frosting bags. I used the smallest tip possible for the lines on my stars but then my arms got tired and when I went to my trees and ornaments, I mixed things up in order to finish quicker!

Italian Prune Plum Galette

Puff pastry has to be one of the miracles of butter. The dough goes from razor thin to blistered, flaky, and, well, gloriously puffed in the oven, thanks to the pockets of butter that release steam to create that crisp, shattering architecture.  And baking with puff pastry lets me pretend, at least a little, that I’m an expert patissiere.

But without too much work, please. True puff pastry does take some effort, more technique and even more waiting time.  Luckily, the shortcut ”quick puff” method–which is very easy and very fast–yields excellent results.  (Maybe it’s cheating to use a food processor, but I won’t tell if you won’t).  Many variations of quick puff are out there; I use Nick Malgieri’s version (the recipe is here) and always make extra for the freezer.  (I’ve been going on and on and on about puff pastry for a while now, and there will only be more:  it’s our current chapter in the Modern Baker Challenge).  You can find raw puff pastry in the freezer case, and while some brands are very good, quality can very.  That’s the best part about making your own puff though (besides being much more economical):  you know your pastry is made with pure butter, rather than trans-fat or its only slightly less undesirable cousins.

Here’s a lovely fall dessert, made with Italian prune plums (yes, you can do more than make a knockout jam with these–and I’m doing my best to take advantage of their brief season).  Prune plums are oblong rather than round, and almost a blackish purple.  While they don’t taste much different than other plums raw, somehow through the alchemy of heat they become jam like and rich with spicy aromatics–perfect for cooling nights. Toss them with a bit of lemon zest and sugar and arrange prettily across your pastry dough, and fold the edges over.  You needn’t be too fussy though. Because it’s a galette, shaggy edges are to be desired rather than shunned, as they lend a rustic look to your final masterpiece.

Italian Prune Plum Galette
  • 3/4 to 1 pound (350-450g) Italian Prune Plums
  • 5 tablespoons sugar
  • zest of one lemon
  • 10 ounces puff pastry (about 285 grams), defrosted overnight in the fridge
Roll out puff pastry dough into a rectangle roughly 14 by 12 inches (35 x 30cm, or about the size of a cookie sheet). Gently lift onto a cookie sheet, and refrigerate while preparing the fruit. (Puff pastry, like pie dough, needs to be kept cold).

Slice the plums in half lengthwise, then slice each piece in half again. Toss gently (using your hands) with the lemon zest and the sugar in a bowl.

Remove the pastry dough from the refrigerator, and arrange the fruit slices down the center, leaving about two inches margin at each edge. Fold the edges towards the center, partially covering some of the fruit.

There will be some “syrup” left in your bowl, scrape out as much as you can and drizzle over the plums.

Bake for about 35-40 minutes at 425F (220C). (Reduce to 400F/200C if the pastry browns too quickly).

Some notes and tips:  Firm fruit retains its shape best (and thus emerges more beautifully from the oven).  As this is more of a method than a recipe,  if you don’t have Italian Prune Plums, use any other plums you have available. Or, in fact, any fruit you prefer!

A version of this post was originally published on Honest Cooking.

Lavender Honey Cake

You’ve heard me go on about Ottolenghi (the man, the places, the cookbooks) before haven’t you?  (And if you don’t remember, just look here and here).

I still pride myself on having discovered the cafe (back when I lived in London) before it was (quite so) famous.

Actually I was taking a knitting class on the same block, I was hungry, and it was the first decent-looking place I happened upon, but as my dad likes to joke, “don’t confuse me with the facts.”  Let’s say instead it was my innate, effortless hipness, my internal up-and-coming-trend honing device, my legendary finger-on-the-pulse-of-the-next-big thing.

And now, despite a few kitchen mis-steps, I’m going to present you with my “version” of the Ottolenghi Lavender Honey Cake.

If you’ve seen the book, you know these are supposed to be mini bundt cakes.  I actually have mini-bundt cake molds (don’t ask!) which I’ve never used (don’t ask, again!) so obviously I should make this right?  And wouldn’t mini-bundt cakes drizzled in icing be just too cute?  Yes, this is all very true, but…unfortunately the recipe doesn’t spccify what size a mini-bundt pan should be.  Whatever size it is, it’s much bigger than whatever I’ve got, so in went the batter into a standard 9-inch cake pan.  (And my mini-bundts still have yet to take their maiden voyage to the oven).

Secondly, despite having made sure to purchase sour cream that day for this recipe, I realized, only as the batter was slowly glug-glugging into the cake pan, that the nice vat of sour cream was still minding its own business, unopened, in the fridge.

It probably wasn’t too late, exactly, as I could have scraped the batter back into the bowl and stirred it in, but I didn’t.  Into the oven it went instead, not without some trepidation and buoyed by tightly crossed fingers.  (That’s a high-tech baking technique by the way).

And it turned out just fine!  A whisper of cratering in the center–surely due to an imbalance of baking soda to acid, having left out the sour cream–that really just allowed for a lovely pooling of the sugary-sweet glaze.  (Kitchen science note:  an excess of baking soda or indeed baking powder can cause your cake to rise too much and too quickly.  Eventually structurally unable to support itself, the domed cake can collapse in at the center, or most disappointingly, crater.  Despite my reckless abandon, I probably avoided this sad fate thanks to the recipe’s use of honey, which like sour cream, is acidic and therefore reacts well with baking soda).

The cake had that lovely floral aroma of lavender and the moistness of honey–a moistness that it retained for a few days (when the last bit of it finally made its way into our bellies).  It was elegant without being too fancy or fussy, and came together easily.  Baking with honey is a lovely way to change up your routine and I hope to try it more and more.

Even with my little lapses, this was a great cake.  I’ve included the full recipe below.  But if you like, you can “leave out” the sour cream and just say you “intentionally” made a lower fat version.

P.S.  If you want more from Mr. Yotam Ottolenghi (and why wouldn’t you?) check out his column for the Guardian here!

Lavender Honey Cake (adapted from Ottolenghi:  the Cookbook)

Cake

  •  1 cup (2 sticks/225g) unsalted butter
  • 1/2 cup (115g) sugar
  • 1/2 cup (115g) honey (lavender honey if you have it)
  • 3 eggs
  • 2c (245g) all purpose flour
  • 1 t baking powder
  • 1/2 t baking soda
  • 1/2 t salt
  • 1/2 t cinnamon
  • 1/2 t chopped dried lavender, plus more for garnish
  • 1/2 cup (110mL) sour cream

Glaze

  • 4 teaspoons lemon juice (one lemon should provide enough)
  • 2 teaspoons of honey
  • 3/4 cup (100g) powdered sugar

Preheat the oven to 325F.  Butter a 9-inch cake tin, line the bottom with parchment paper, butter that, and flour, tipping out any excess.

Cream the butter, sugar, and honey together until light and fluffy.  Beat the eggs lightly together and slowly incorporate into the butter base.

Mix the dry ingredients together (all remaining ingredients but the sour cream) and stir well.  Fold 1/3 of the flour mixture gently into the butter base, then about 1/3 of the sour cream.  Repeat twice more until all ingredients are just incorporated.

Turn the batter into your prepared cake tin and bake in the oven for about 50 minutes, or until a cake tester comes out clean.  Note that honey browns very quickly in the oven, so if you notice this happening, you can tent your cake with foil for the duration.  When you cake is done, remove it from the oven and allow it to cool for about ten minutes, then invert onto a rack to cool.

When cool, transfer to a plate and make the icing:  whisk the lemon juice and honey together, then whisk in the powdered sugar (ideally you’d sift the powdered sugar in to remove any lumps).  Drizzle over your cake, allowing the icing to trickle down the sides.  Sprinkle with additional lavender.  Allow frosting to set, and serve.

Update 10/29 Thanks to Hope for pointing out that I had forgotten to specify the quantity of flour!

More love for Mr. Yotam in the blogosphere:

Carolyn of Umami Girl’s Ottolenghi lentils

Heavenly Housewife’s cooking class with Ottolenghi and a recipe for grilled eggplant.

Sweet Artichoke’s Caramel and Macadamia Nut Cheesecake from the same book.

Modern Baker Challenge: Perfect Pound Cake

There seem to be three sorts:  the people who celebrate their birthday the whole month long, the ones who keep mum but maybe hope for a bit of festivity, and those who actively try to keep it under wraps.

Someone I work with, who we’ll say was in “category three,” celebrated a birthday last week,  or rather had her birthday celebration foisted on her. (She was outed by facebook).  As word spread, a lovely bouquet of flowers appeared mid-afternoon.  Meanwhile, I was brainstorming about what to bake.  (You know us…we love an excuse, though Karen is the champion of the stealth work celebration–remember her posts here, and here?)

I figured it was an ideal chance to skip ahead a few chapters in the Modern Baker Challenge and make Malgieri’s Perfect Pound Cake. 

It was pretty perfect.

This recipe requires a bit more effort than your average pound cake, but when would you step it up if not for someone’s birthday? 

Malgieri adapted this recipe from his aunt, and while each step is easy, there are quite a few.  First you have to beat the yolk and sugar together, then beat the flour, vanilla and lemon extracts, and butter together, then whip the egg whites into a stiff-peak meringue, then stir it all together, and beat another five minutes.  I’ll admit this last step mystifies me–why go to the trouble to beat the egg whites into a meringue, only to beat the combined batter another five minutes?  Usually you are instructed to fold egg whites in very gently, so as not to deflate the batter–what’s going on?

I still don’t understand the science, but I can tell you the cake was worth it (and all the mixing bowls).  The texture is what really grabbed me:  not heavy like you often risk with a pound cake, but of course, not airy or spongy either.  It seemed almost like a dense foam baked into a cake.  (An odd description, I’ll admit, but I can’t think of a better way to put it).  What’s more:  tender, surely thanks to the cake flour, and rich, with all that butter.

The cake was a day late, of course, but I like to think that it just extended the birthday celebration.  I’d love to make this again, ideally toasting the slices and serving warm and fragrant with a bright, intense berry coulis.  Now that would be festive!

Fresh Peach Cheesecake

Again, another cheesecake.  Again, another office party.  Again a belated post from kclever…

August birthdays rolled  around this year, and since summer had YET to hit Portland, I wasn’t too afraid of the oven.  I say this because in those years of my childhood spent in Oklahoma, we were forbidden – or close to it – from baking or turning on the oven AT ALL in the summer. Sometimes there was a concession made if the baking was completed by 10am before the triple digit heat set in, but that would require an awful lot of planning and preparation. And, to my mother’s credit – it DID take a long time to cool down the brick house and you never knew what was going to put the A/C on the edge.

Though I’m not as draconian about my baking patterns today, I do appreciate how quickly an oven can heat up the house – especially when the “house” is a one bedroom apartment with few windows for cross ventilation and no A/C. It’s fortunate then, that I live now in the Pacific Northwest so 100+  degree days are very rare and far between.  I also like to think it’s fortunate for my co-workers because I AM more inspired to bake when it’s not too hot, although I don’t know that I would eschew baking for a birthday regardless of the thermostat.

And so, when I realized that my friends were sharing a birthday week, I decide it was time to dig out the cheesecake pan that has never failed me before.  I solicited their “likes” for a little inspiration and come up with a peach cheesecake.

Peaches here in Oregon – are like heaven.  Especially when ripe.  I’ve had many sad, unripe peaches.  That’s what happens when you try to buy “fresh” fruit in Oklahoma.  The rosy peaches look delectable and oh so promising in the grocery store, but then they never ripen. They get soft, but then they are mushy. Sad.  Very, very sad.  Fortunate for me, again, that I live where I do.  The farmers markets are teeming with fresh peaches right about now.

Taking a bite of a fresh peach reminds me of T.S. Eliot’s poem “The Love song of J. Alfred Prufrock” which we had to memorize in part for 11th Grade English.   I can’t help but think of the line, “Do I dare to each a peach?” Oh yes, yes, I do. They are delicious.

I found a recipe on epicurious:  recipe

Ingredients:

Crust
Plenty of 30 gingersnap cookies (about 6-8 ounces), coarsely broken
1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted

Filling
2 lbs of peaches, peeled, pitted, sliced 1/4 inch thick
2 tablespoons plus 1 1/4 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

4 8-ounce packages cream cheese, room temperature
4 large eggs
1/2 cup sour cream
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Glaze
1/2 cup peach preserves
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
3 large peach, peeled, pitted, very thinly sliced

For crust:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Grind gingersnaps in processor to coarse crumbs. Add butter and blend until evenly moistened. Press crumbs over bottom and 1 inch up sides of 10-inch-diameter springform pan with 2 3/4-inch-high sides. Bake crust until beginning to brown, about 8 minutes. Cool on rack. Reduce oven temperature to 325°F.

For filling:
Combine peaches, 2 tablespoons sugar, and lemon juice in heavy large saucepan. Cover and cook over medium-high heat until sugar dissolves and peaches are juicy, stirring occasionally, about 5 minutes. Uncover and cook until peaches are tender and juices thicken, about 5 minutes. Cool compote.

Using electric mixer, beat cream cheese in large bowl until fluffy. Gradually add 1 1/4 cups sugar and beat until smooth. Beat in eggs 1 at a time. Mix in sour cream and vanilla. Spoon half of cheese mixture (about 3 cups) into crust. Spoon peach compote over by tablespoonfuls, spacing apart. Pour and cover with remaining cheese mixture.

Place large piece of foil on oven rack. Place pan with cheesecake on foil.  (This is a great tip because in the past – I’ve  spent too much time cleaning the oven!) Bake until puffed, set in center, and beginning to brown, about 1 hour. Place hot cheesecake on rack; cool 5 minutes. Run small sharp knife around pan sides to loosen. Place cheesecake, uncovered, on rack in refrigerator and chill overnight. (Can be made 2 days ahead. Cover; keep chilled.)

For glaze:
Combine preserves and lemon juice in heavy small saucepan. Stir over medium heat until glaze comes to simmer. Strain into small bowl. Release pan sides; place cheesecake on platter. Spread glaze over top of cheesecake to within 1/4 inch of edge. Chill cheesecake until glaze sets, at least 30 minutes and up to 8 hours. Arrange peach slices in center of cake and serve.

Coconut Cake — Partial Fail

I have overheard Marie, on many occasions, ooh and aah over her share of coconut recipes (from cake to cookies to cocktails!) Not being a fan of coconut, I always thought it was funny she could be so excited by all these ideas.  But then Marie and I made the Barefoot Contessa’s signature coconut cupcakes 2 years ago for little E’s birthday.  The cupcakes are amazing, and I sadly acknowledge that this fact probably relates to the obscene amounts of butter that are called for.  My brother-in-law made some pretty terrifying calculations about the amount of butter in each serving, but I’ve fortunately managed to bury that knowledge deep deep into the recesses of my mind.   I hope. 

Anyway.  Another calorific cookbook of mine, the Joanne Chang’s Flour Cookbook, (which, by the way, was the source of the birthday cupcakes for little E’s this year as you may recall),  features a coconut cake recipe using, rather than plain old dairy milk, coconut milk in both the frosting and cake.  Pretty cool.  Perfect for Marie’s visit, right?  And who cares if her birthday was already a few weeks past–there’s always an excuse for cake!

The actual cake might have been perfect too, had I been just a bit more knowledgable about coconut milk.  My historic lack of interest in all things coconut means that I was not aware that the milk is thick and dense, like condensed milk.  When I belatedly noticed that the package of “coconut milk” I bought had in smaller font “beverage” I worried a little, but plowed ahead nonetheless.  And by belatedly, I noticed as I was opening the package to pour into the recipe.  I was in too deep to stop! 

If you are a bit more knowledgable than I about coconut milk, you are at best raising your eyebrows, and at worst, cringing.  I should have known better.  I did actually know that coconut milk is “fatty”; while this looked like skim milk–and as it’s basically just watered down coconut milk, that’s not too far off.  I know that “apple juice drink” is not apple juice, why would “coconut milk beverage” be what I was looking for?   

Um, at least it's organic?

It was a bit of a mixed bag.

The cake did not rise all that much, but otherwise, actually turned out well enough.   As I had used a 9″ cake pan rather than the specified 8″ pan, I took that as the explanation for a lackluster loft, and moved on.  The cake may have looked a bit sad, but things smelled good.  Time to make frosting!

Sad little short coconut cake

And things went south.  The method is similar to the crispy magic icing recipe, where you start out heating a slurry of egg whites and sugar over a double boiler, then transfer to a stand mixer to beat until fluffy and cool, then adding the butter.  (Cool is important so you don’t melt the butter!)

Oh, if I only had stopped there.  Because it was already a perfect buttercream. 

But then I went and dumped in that coconut milk beverage.  And things were soupy.  So I kept beating–soupy frosting was already unusable, so there was nothing to lose.  But it turned into the following mess, which Marie was kind enough to observe that while tasty, looked like “half and half that’s gone bad.”  Down the sink it went.

Not exactly what you'd want to see on a cake

After that I tried seven-minute frosting, which, in our case, took way more than seven minutes, probably because we used pasteurized egg whites.  This frosting also resulted in something a bit more on the liquid side than I’d like:  I followed Mark Bittman’s recipe to take it to the soft peak stage before removing from heat; next time I’ll follow Epicurious’s recipe and take it to stiff peaks first.  Still it worked:  lovely, fluffy, like liquid marshmallow!

The cake experience was a bit marred in the end by the one-hour sojourn into frosting mishaps, with sacrificed butter, impatient preschoolers waiting for cake, and an almost-toddler who fussed vociferously when not allowed to operate the hand mixer.  But in the end, we had a coconut cake, with frosting, and several lessons learned.  And that’s not a bad result.

And finally, voila!

 And finally, children, to summarize the five lessons we’ve learned today:

1.  Coconut milk and coconut milk beverage are not the same thing.  You may be able to substitute one for the other in baking, but not in frosting.

2.  If you use too large a pan, your cake will probably not rise as high, and will bake much faster.

3  Flour recipes must be pretty good if the cake can still turn out despite my gaffes. And I certainly don’t blame Joanne Chang (the author of Flour) for not writing a frosting recipe that withstands the use of coconut milk “beverage.”

4.  Pasteurized egg whites are great to use if you are an anxious mom, but they do take much longer to beat into meringue.

5.  When making seven-minute icing, take to the stiff peak stage before removing from heat.

6.   Don’t trust a one-year-old with a fork near a cake.

More? I don't mind if I do!

Sweet Cherry Pie

This post was originally published at Honest Cooking

I’ve been hearing a lot about how wonderful tart cherries are for just about everything.  I’d be perfectly happy to line my pantry with tart cherry jam, make classic French clafoutis, or infuse a sweet liqueur–problem is, I simply can’t find them (and if you’ve been following our facebook page–click over to come join us–you know I’ve been whining about it there).  I’ve been keeping my eye out, with the hopes of making the ideal cherry pie before summer’s gone, but luck has not been on my side.

Meanwhile, I’ve been buying loads of sweet cherries, and I wondered if it would really be such a sin to make cherry pie using this bounty.  Shouldn’t delicious cherries simply beget delicious pie?   Yes they should…and they do.  

(If you were wondering what I used all that pie crust for in my last post, here’s your answer!)

So:  don’t think you can’t make amazing cherry pie without tart cherries. (But if you find any, please do let me know where!)

Sweet Cherry Pie adapted from the L.A. Times

  • 6 cups sweet cherries (about 3 1/2 pounds or 1.5 kilos)
  • 2/3 cup (134g) sugar
  • 1/4 cup (30g) cornstarch
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • Juice of one lemon
  • Prepared sweet pie crust for 1 double-crust pie (I used the crust I talked about in this post).
Preheat the oven to 350F/175C. 
 
Pit and stem the cherries.  In a large bowl, whisk together the sugar and cornstarch. Add the cherries, and stir well to coat with the sugar-cornstarch mixture. Stir in the vanilla extract and the lemon juice.

Roll out slightly more than half of the dough and use it line a 9 inch (about 22cm) pie pan. Pour in the cherry mixture. Roll out the remaining dough and place it over the the pan. Press the edges together to seal. Cut several slits through the top crust to vent.

Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until the crust is golden and the filling is bubbling. Rotate halfway through for even baking.

 Notes:  In adapting this recipe, I used the juice of lemon to ensure that the sweet cherries did not turn cloying in the finished pie. You might consider using almond extract instead of vanilla extract, as almonds (which are related to cherries) have a natural affinity for this fruit.
 
Update:  Since writing this post, I DID find those elusive tart cherries.  But I used them for jam!
 

Modern Baker Challenge: Whipped Cream Layer Cake

As per usual, rather than complete the assignment of the day (pies!  this shouldn’t be hard!) I am jumping ahead in the Modern Baker Challenge.  I have been looking ahead at the Cakes chapter with excitement and trepidation.  Excitement because–well, do I have explain?  CAKE!  Trepidation because, who is going to eat all this sugary output?

I had a flash of inspiration when preparing for an upcoming family get-together over the 4th of July weekend.  A captive audience in a town of under 3000 in rural Vermont combined with the need to use up 2 cups of delicious Jersey cream from the Berkshires led to Nick Malgieri’s Whipped Cream Layer Cake (with Whipped Cream Caramel Frosting).

This cake is made by folding whipped cream into the batter, a method which instantly caught my interest for its departure from the usual butter and milk combination.   (In fact, the whipped cream fills the role of both).  You have the pleasure of making something unique without having to hunt down bizarre ingredients or successfully accomplish some complicated tour-de-force in the kitchen.  And it’s incredibly easy, especially if you ignore Malgieri’s instructions to whip 1 1/2c of cream by hand and use your hand mixer.

Slightly more nervewracking was making the caramel concentrate for the frosting.  (First you make what you might think of as a “flavor base” of caramel mixed with a half a cup of cream; once cool you whip this together with even more heavy cream).  I always worry when making caramel thanks to an attempt making flan in high school which resulted in me splattering myself with burnt hot sugar. (Really, it wasn’t that bad, maybe a few tiny welts on my left hand, but the memory is vivid).  Even without the threat of self-injury, it’s really easy to burn your caramel as it continues to darken even after you’ve turned off the flame.

Once you make the caramel, you heat the cream and add it to the burnt sugar.  While the cream warmed, I ran the sides of the caramel pot under cold water to cool things down and stop the cooking as I was afraid I’d let the whole hot mess go too far.  I think it may have helped, and even better, adding the cream to the liquid sugar was surprisingly undramatic.  (Nick warns you to beware, as adding hot cream to hot caramel may cause a rapid foaming up of molten hot caramel over the sides of your pot!  Flashbacks!).  I did have to stir a bit to get things mixed, since the caramel was cooler than it might otherwise have been, but it all worked out.

Lest you think I am able to perform magic feats of keeping a frosted cake in perfect condition (and unmelted) on a 2 hour drive to Vermont, I’ll admit that I carried the baked cake up in the buff and held the caramel base in a small pyrex bowl in the cooler.  Two days later I mixed in two cups of cream into the caramel bases, whipped it up and frosted the cake. 

As you can see, my sous-chef was happy to help frost the cake and was very excited to help me carry the finished work to the table. 

Despite being baked on a Friday night and being served on a Sunday, the cake was perfectly fresh, light, and moist.  Its subtle vanilla flavor melded well with the golden caramel flavored icing, and with 12 at the table, it soon enough disappeared.

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp

My berry stained hands were at work searching for a recipe on my smartphone.  Not long after picking strawberries the Davis Family Farm near Corvallis, Oregon, I was determined to make good use of the 5 lbs of berries we’d collected.

It’s the tail end of the strawberry season here in Oregon.  Granted, it was not the best time to be searching for berries either — the end of a sunny weekend, after all had been picked over.  I probably could have taken a few pictures of the trek – the picturesque mountains, the rows of plants, and then the “broken down car” at the corner of the field – indicating a left turn for strawberries.  But I did not.  Maybe next time when I go blueberry picking.

Oregon strawberries are nothing like the supermarket variety.  They are much smaller but so much sweeter. They are also more delicate and last not much longer than a day or two.  I had been gifted some rhubarb at work and was planning on a rhubarb crisp (which would not have been blog-worthy given Sara’s previously, well-received post here ), but the strawberries allowed a new dimension.

Because the strawberries are so small, it makes the process of hulling them a little more tedious.  Even after sitting just 5 hours, there were quite a few berries that no longer looked palatable.  Fortunately, it doesn’t matter how mushy they are in a crisp.  I followed the basic recipe from the food and wine website with a few changes.  The original may be found here.

Sadly I do most of my cooking on the evenings, so all pictures are a little weak.  Also, by the time it’s fresh from the oven I’m so tired and ready for bed I can’t be bothered to properly “plate” it.

Ingredients:

Filling

2 pounds rhubarb stalks, sliced 1/2 inch thick (this was approximately 7-8 stalks)

1& 1/4 cups sugar

1 pound strawberries, hulled and quartered (this was approximately 5-6 cups?)

3 tablespoons cornstarch

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Topping

1 stick (4 ounces) unsalted butter, softened

1 & 1/2 cups light brown sugar

1 & 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1& 1/4 cups quick-cooking rolled oats

3 tablespoons canola oil

1 & 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 & 1/2 teaspoons nutmeg

(1) Preheat the oven to 375°.

(2) MAKE THE FILLING:  In a bowl, toss the rhubarb with 3/4 cup of the sugar and let stand for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Rhubarb and sugar, pre-sweetening.

Strawberries – lots of work.

In another bowl, toss the strawberries with the remaining 1/2 cup sugar and let stand for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the rhubarb to the strawberries; discard any rhubarb juice. Add the cornstarch, lemon juice (if you have it, I did not…)  and vanilla to the fruit and stir well. Transfer the mixture to a 9-by-13-inch glass baking dish.

Filling, sweetened and ready for the topping.

(2) MAKE THE TOPPING Combine all of the ingredients in a medium bowl. Using a pastry blender or your fingers, mix the ingredients together until large crumbs form.

(3) BAKE IT Sprinkle the topping evenly over the filling and bake for 30 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 325° and continue baking for about 30 minutes longer, until the fruit filling is bubbling and the topping is nicely browned.

Baked and cooling… ready for tomorrow.

(4) EAT IT