Showing posts with label dessert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dessert. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Learning to Cook Like Grandma: Blanching and Peeling Peaches

Can someone please do me a favor?

The next time I poopoo some "old-fashioned," "time-consuming" technique that our grandmas and their grandmas have done for centuries...

TELL ME I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I'M TALKING ABOUT.

Like, seriously. Geez Louise.

Backstory: my stepson is coming to visit. I want to make him his favorite dessert of all time: fresh peach pie. This entails peeling and cutting up eight big, fat peaches.

In the past, I've "known better" because "the-newfangled-way-has-to-be-better," so I've peeled the peaches with one of these (called a "vegetable peeler"):


(No, I don't know why it is on a chain, either.)

Peeling peaches "my way" resulted in:
  • mangled peaches
  • peaches being shot across the counter or into the sink after slipping from my grip
  • a dramatic loss of perfectly good peach flesh that did not end up in the pie (or anywhere else delicious and purposeful)
Clearly, my way is better than Grandma's, right???

Sigh. I'm such an arrogant ass.

Thank God for waves of "you-know, maybe-I-WILL-try-that-blanching-thing-that-all-the-old-recipes-tell-you-to-do..."

Folks, this is what you get when you blanch and ice peaches before peeling them:

An unpeeled, blanched peach beside peaches that have been blanched and peeled

I KNOW, RIGHT???? The skin peeled off in sheets like paper! No loss of deliciousness! And it would have taken me the SAME amount of time to mangle the peaches with a vegetable peeler than it did to blanch and peel them.

What did I do? Well, by gum, I'll tell you, even though I'm no grandma!
  1. Boil a small pot full of water that is deep enough to cover the largest peach.
  2. While you are waiting for the water to boil, take a paring knife (in the picture above) and carefully score a big 'X' in the bottom of each peach (opposite the stem side).
  3. Now get a big bowl of ice water.
  4. When the water is boiling, gently drop in a peach. Slowly count to 30 as you gently move it around to evenly boil all sides. Remove the peach and drop it in the ice water.
  5. Drop another peach in the boiling water. Count to 30. Remove the peach and drop it in the ice water. Remove the previously iced peach and put it on a plate/cutting board.
  6. Repeat until all the peaches are blanched.
  7. Pick up the first peach you blanched. Take the tip of your knife blade and slide it under the peach skin where it comes to one of the points on the 'X.' Place your thumb on top of the skin (so the skin is sandwiched between the knife blade and your thumb) and gently pull downward. Ta-daaaaa!!!! Repeat all the way around the peach.
  8. Repeat with all the peaches.
Oh my word, my world was changed. My arrogance was duly spanked, yes. And it did smart a bit...

But now there will be PIE.


Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Playing Around with Paletas: A Peach-Basil Popsicle Recipe

What a summer this has been! For those of you who visit often, you've gathered that I've been a bit out of my usual loop these past few months. I would make excuses, but I can't because I've had so much fun this summer that my excuses would be a farce. I've missed writing, but I certainly have not missed my family and friends. It's been a summer to make up some seriously lost time, and I've had a blast.

One of my favorite events this summer was having Michael come visit twice! I love cooking for him again when he is back, and this second summer visit from him prompted me to buy something that I have been wanting to buy in a long, LONG time: namely, a popsicle mold. 

I know, I know... How old am I? (cough) Do I have small children? (NO.) 

It's just...every time the heat of summer rolls around and I see photographs of frosty, melty, fruity paletas (i.e. Spanish for "popsicles," kind-of), I have this longing to pureé a bunch of fruit and make some myself.

The only problem? I have never been able to find a popsicle mold that suits my tastes, and I've been SUPER picky about what I want in one. It must:
  • be easy to clean
  • be BPA-free
  • use popsicle sticks that can get accidentally tossed/lost and not ruin the entire set
  • be warp-free
  • be easy to freeze without making a huge mess of my freezer
  • be the classic popsicle shape
Some of you are probably wondering how on earth I ever found my husband if my laundry list for a POPSICLE MOLD is this stringent.

Well. Regardless of what you may think of my picky nature, I FOUND ONE. I paid a small fortune for it, true. But I believe it is going to last me just short of forever. Check it out:

Onyx Stainless Steel Popsicle Mold Set

It's the Onyx Stainless Steel Popsicle Mold from Amazon. It currently costs about $40, but DUDE. Look at it! It's STAINLESS STEEL. It comes with its own super-stable holder. The little silicon rings in the lids hold the (included!!!) bamboo sticks perfectly in place. No crooked popsicles/too-short handles/wimpy plastic here! I am seriously in love. A mom designed it because she couldn't find the perfect popsicle mold, either. Figures. GO, MOMS!

SO. I ordered the popsicle mold, got it in the mail a few days before Michael got into town the second time, and whipped up a couple trial recipes that I concocted after reading around on the internet. NO, they were not recipes for adult-flavored popsicles. I made them from mostly fruit with yogurt or herbs and a little bit of sugar. That's it. Not even water (I hate icy ice-pops...). The blueberry-yogurt one pictured below that Chef Reiton is not sure of (and the one farther down with Marley longingly gazing on) still needs some work, but here's a quick recipe to use up those late summer peaches and basil that are still hanging on—a recipe for peach-basil paletas that got the family approval!

Playing Around with Paletas: A Popsicle Recipe

Peach-Basil Paletas (makes 6 pops or 2 cups of pureé):

Peel 4 medium ripe peaches with a paring knife and cut them into chunks. Place the peach chunks into a small pot and simmer them with 1/4 cup sugar for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove the pot from the heat, then add 8 fresh basil leaves. Pour the mixture into a blender (or use an immersion blender) and blend until smooth. Pour the mixture into a glass measuring cup (for easy pouring) and pour into the molds evenly. Let cool to room temperature. Freeze overnight.

Let me know if you try them out or do something different! I'm thinking about trying a strawberry-basil one next...

Playing Around with Paletas: A Popsicle Recipe

Friday, February 12, 2016

A Valentine Treat: Baked Alaska

When I go home for Christmas, I become a bit of a kitchen hog—as in, I totally take over.  Thank God my siblings and parents get my obsession.  You know how when you really love something you want to share it with everyone? (Hello, DUH, Rachael...you write a FOOD BLOG.)

Well, I think I've rubbed off a bit on my brother, Arthur.  He is quickly becoming the King of Desserts in our family. Want to know how to make a gourmet s'more? Macarons? Lemon meringue pie? Ask him. He'll try anything if he's got the tools.  I personally think he should go to a baking school and open up the best damn bakery in Berkeley... While we were home together, he made the best lava cake I have ever eaten in my entire life.  I tried to replicate it when I got home and failed.  I think I cut the recipe in half and forgot to do something in relation to that.  Anyway.  His lava cakes? OMG.

chocolate lava cake

One dessert he had recently made with his friend, Luna, was Baked Alaska, and he was dying to make it for us.  Nobody was about to say 'no,' so one night he whipped together a batch and recruited me to help. I had never even eaten it before, so I was pretty excited to see what this famous dessert was all about. And, wow, was I shocked at how simple it was! It is made with just three things: pound or sponge cake and ice cream (both of which we bought) and meringue (egg whites beaten with sugar and a wee bit of cream of tartar).

Here are some photos to show a bit of the process.  I think it is simple enough that some of you might want to try it for your sweetums (or your own awesome self!) for Valentine's Day.

First, the pound cake is cut into rounds using a biscuit cutter (or a water glass, if you don't have a cutter) and laid out onto a sheet pan:

Baked Alaska cake rounds

Next, the ice cream is packed into a standard muffin tin lined with foil and refrozen.  (I think you could probably pack the tin without the foil and just flip the ice cream mounds out onto a cookie sheet after laying a hot towel across the bottom to loosen them.) When the ice cream was hardened, he removed the ice cream discs, placed them on top of the pound cake rounds, then topped each mound of ice cream with another piece of pound cake:

The foundation of Baked Alaska


These stacks then got stuck in the freezer again.  While they were freezing, he made the meringue (I believe it was an Italian meringue, which comes out more marshmallow-y and yummy than the kind of meringue you make for a lemon meringue pie.  Sarah over at CraftyBaking shares some good info about meringue here):

Making the meringue for Baked Alaska

Adding the meringue to Baked Alaska

(Please forgive my mother's horrid mixer.  I almost took my KitchenAid with me and then didn't because it weighs a ton.  I then got mad at myself that I didn't... No offense, Mom. ;)  I think the meringue would have come out stiffer if we had had my KA.  A tip from me to you, dear reader: a KitchenAid mixer is SO WORTH EVERY PENNY.  There is nothing like it, I promise you.  I just have the basic Artisan model. I don't know what I ever did without it. Check out Reviews.com's post on how KitchenAid stands up to other mixers, as well as their post on how the different KitchenAid models stand up to each other. I think you will find the information incredibly detailed and useful.)

Anyway.  After the meringue was finished, Arthur and I had fun (clearly) coating the frozen cake and ice cream stacks with big, swoopy plops.  


If I remember correctly, Arthur froze these again until after dinner.  He then broiled the whole sheet on high for a couple minutes to toast the meringue.  Here's what they looked like as he was plating them:

Serving up Baked Alaska!

A gorgeous mess, yes? Again, I think they would have held their shape better if we had used a better mixer and gotten that meringue a little bit stiffer.  But you should have tasted them.  Holy cow! We even froze the leftovers and ate them the next night, and they still were delish!

So—THAT is Baked Alaska! It's pretty damn easy! I had no idea. And impressive.  It takes some time, but nothing is difficult.  

I'm sorry I don't have a recipe, but if I come across a good one, I'll come back and post it here.  Unless Arthur shoots me his... 

And if you make some, post some pics in the comments below! I would love to see what you did!

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

A French Apple Tart Recipe for My American Veterans

Happy Veterans Day, family, friends, and strangers alike! Thank you, THANK YOU for your service to this great country of ours. Let us all be sure to pause today to think on both the emotional and physical sacrifices that millions have made to provide a homeland of peace for all of us.

In honor of our selfless men and women of service, I thought I would share with you the apple tart that I made for my parents a few days ago (how on earth did apples become associated with American pride?). It's a tarte tatin, really, not an apple pie—an apple tart made by caramelizing apples in sugar and butter and then plopping a pie crust on top and baking it. This is my I-kind-of-remember-how-this-goes version. I tend to do that a lot when I travel and cook. So this may not be the official French way of preparing it. But it was still pretty damn good.

You are going to want to make the pie crust first. While it is chilling in the fridge, you can peel and cut up the apples and get the caramel and caramelization going. So, first, here's the recipe for the dough:

Dough Ingredients and Directions:
  • 1 1/4 cups (6 1/4 oz.) all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 tsp. salt
  • 1 Tblsp. sugar
  • 10 Tblsps. unsalted butter (1 1/4 sticks)
  • 3 Tblsp. ice cold vodka
  • 1 Tblsp. ice water

1.  In a food processor, combine only 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, salt, and the sugar, then pulse together with a few 1-second pulses to blend. Drop in the cold butter, cut into 1/4-in. slices, and process for about 10 seconds. The mixture will look like curds the size of cottage cheese. Scrape down the sides and the bottom and redistribute the mixture evenly around the bowl. Sprinkle the remaining flour over the top, then pulse about 5 or 6 more times. The dough will come together into a ball, and then redistribute itself around the bowl. Dump the mixture into a medium bowl.

2.  Mix together the vodka and ice water. Sprinkle the dough with the mixture, then take a rubber spatula and start smashing, folding, and flattening the vodka-water into the dough, pressing the spatula down into the dough to help mix in the liquid. It's going to look like it's not going to do anything at first; just give it time and keep flipping, smashing, folding, and pressing; it will get there. The dough is going to resemble Playdough when you are done. (If it looks too dry, sprinkle in the tiniest amount of ice water--like 1/2 tsp. at a time).

3.  Gather the dough into a ball, then dump it onto a square of plastic wrap. Lay another piece of plastic on top, then flatten the ball into a 4-inch disc. Wrap it tightly in plastic wrap and lay it in the fridge for at least 45 minutes.

Now, preheat the oven to 375°.

For the apples and caramel: 
  • 3 medium to large apples, peeled, cored, and cut into 8 wedges (I use one of these to make it easy, then I just trim away any of the tough core bits left)
  • 1/2 cup (1 stick or 8 tablespoons) unsalted butter
  • 1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
  • 1/2 cup white sugar
  • ground cinnamon
  • a couple pinches of kosher salt
1.  To a 10 to 12-inch skillet with relatively straight sides, add both the sugars and the butter.  Place on a burner and turn the heat on to medium to medium-low, depending on your burner.  Stir constantly with a wooden spoon until the sugar and butter have melted and are completely combined.  This takes awhile, but be patient; you don't want the butter separating.  Let the caramel slowly bubble for a couple minutes as you continue stirring.

2.  Place the apple slices on top of the caramel, nestling them into the sugar mixture, making two concentric rings.  Sprinkle with two pinches of kosher salt and a heavy dose of ground cinnamon.  Let the mixture bubble for a couple minutes together while you roll out the dough.

caramel apple tarte tatin

best pie dough ever!


3.  Roll out the dough on a floured surface to be just barely bigger than the skillet.  Wrap the dough around the rolling pin to make it easier to move (use a metal spatula or bench scraper if necessary to get it up off the counter), then unroll the dough on top of the apples.  Tuck the edges of the dough down into the caramel sauce.

4.  Place the skillet in the oven and bake for 35-40 minutes, depending on your oven.  You want a nicely browned crust.

golden brown crust

5.  Let the tart cool in the skillet on a wire rack.  If you flip it too soon, the caramel will still be too warm and will run off the tart.  When it is cool and you are ready to dive in, take a small rubber spatula, wet it, then run it around the edge of the skillet, loosening the crust and caramel.  Now take your plate or platter, lay it upside down over the top of the skillet, hold the pan and plate together like you would a sandwich, and then—FLIP!

tarte tatin

See? Ridiculously simple.  If you are terrified of pie crust or are in a terrible rush, buy a pack of Pillsbury, for heaven's sake.  But this dessert is just TOO easy to not make.  And yummyyyyyyyyy.

tarte tatin with vanilla ice cream

Have a wonderful holiday, all!



Friday, October 2, 2015

Brandied Peaches and Cream at Midnight: Learning the Magic of Maceration (with Liquor)

I have a new Italian grandma.

Her name is Paula, and she lives next door.  I had the absolute pleasure of hanging out with her and her daughter, Annette, and their family this past weekend.  Derrick and I were taking out the trash (with wine glasses in hand—I know...), when they called over the fence and said to bring our wine glasses and come on over to sit by the fire!

Am I ever glad we said 'yes.'  First off, I could have only dreamed that we would have next door neighbors as nice as they.  I mean, they are the kind of people that are just genuine, you know? Nobody will ever be able to replace our Trevinos, but Paula and Annette and Justin and James look like they are certainly going to give them a run for their money.

Secondly,—well, let's just get back to Paula.  She absolutely warmed my heart.  I think I could sit and talk to her for hours.  In the 15 minutes that we were alone together conversing, I felt like I got a glimpse into an extraordinary life lived by a woman with a strength that most of us could only hope to have.  I can't wait to get to know her better.  And to cook with her...  I hear her arancini are to die for.

There are many more reasons I'm glad we said 'yes' to the fire invitation, but the one that relates the most to why I'm writing you all is because that night Paula handed me a bag of peaches picked from a very special tree in their backyard.  Yes, HOMEGROWN peaches.  Holy tamole! She told me that they were a little hard, yet, and to give them a few days...

Well, I did, and yesterday I decided that they were ready to be eaten.  TODAY.  Chef Reiton had a Chicago trip that would have him leaving just before dinner and not coming home until close to midnight, so we decided to do like we did when were dating and have a midnight dinner.  We made a big batch of chili to simmer for hours on the stove while he would be working, and while he was gone, I hatched a secret peachy dessert plan and took Paula's peaches and made this:

chopped peaces in brandy with whipped ricotta cheese and Greek yogurt

There they are, waiting in the fridge.  I'm calling my little dessert creation brandied peaches and cream, but there's not a drop of cream in there.  The "cream" is really whole milk ricotta cheese and Greek yogurt whisked together until the mixture is silky smooth (no sugar added).  The peaches I cut up really small then macerated them for a couple hours with a drizzle of organic honey, a sprinkle of nutmeg, a teensy pinch of salt, and a splash of brandy.  Then I just layered everything in little juice glasses and topped each of them with a sprig o' mint.

brandied peaches and cream

Chef Reiton and I really liked the results.  The "cream" mixture was nice and smooth and creamy.  The peaches were just peachy! But there are a few things we decided would make it even better:
  1. Use a little more Greek yogurt and a little less ricotta to get a bit more tang.  So maybe instead of doing equal parts of 1:1, maybe do 2:1.  And I could have added a couple drops of vanilla for some flavor.
  2. I plated these after only a couple hours of maceration.  Allowing the fruit to macerate for a much longer time and plating them closer to serving time would make the fruit taste that much better and keep the yummy brandied juices more evenly distributed throughout the dish as you are eating it, instead of having them settle to the bottom and only getting the best at the last...
  3. This dessert would work with lots of fruits.  I've got some raspberries in the fridge right now.  Those would be awesome.  Strawberries? Heck, yeah.  Blueberries.  Blackberries.  Plums.  Oh, man... Change the spice sprinkle to suit the fruit, and you are good to go!
  4. Another cheese to try? Mascarpone.  That's got the silk and tang going for it already.  Blend the mascarpone and yogurt in equal parts? Hmm...
Give it a try! And if you don't have brandy or honey to macerate the fruit in, try using some brown sugar to get a bit of that caramel-y flavor involved.  Yummy!

And now I am off to continue getting this little house set-up.  I want Paula to come over...

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Cafe Selmarie — Chicago (Lincoln Square), IL — A Restaurant Recommendation

Tucked on the corner of a cute little pedestrian street in Lincoln Square, Cafe Selmarie is a delightful place to spend a late morning, catching up with your BF after months of being out of touch.  I recently spent a summer morning here for brunch with Julissa, one of my dearest friends and a foodie soulmate.

I ordered a sandwich, and Julissa ordered dessert.  Our thoughts?

The fried green tomato BLT: PERFECT.  Crunchy coating on the tomatoes, crisp bacon, soft brioche, tangy aioli.  Delish.



Julissa's chocolate lemon torte? Meh. We both found it quite bland.


It looked awfully pretty, but it was missing something.  I almost felt like it could have used a pinch of salt.  It just finished off flat.  The chocolate could have been a bit more heady, too.

Definitely would go back, though, and give other baked items a try.  And to have that BLT again...

A Slice of Summer: The Last Fresh Peach Pie Recipe You Will Ever Need

If there is one thing above all others that I miss most about PA (besides my family), it is without a doubt the peaches.

Not many people realize that Pennsylvania's orchards are loaded with peaches, not just apples, and they are the biggest, juiciest, most peachy peaches I have ever tasted.  Granted, I have never eaten a Georgia peach off the tree—but the Georgia store peaches I have had have never compared to Pennsylvania's huge, warm, tree-ripened beauties that I ate as a kid.

With the summer coming to an end here in good ol' Wisconsin, I can't help but find myself longing for peach juice running down my arm and my tastebuds screaming with peach-induced happiness. I've tried peaches a couple times from a couple of sources this summer, and they were all awful.  Pulpy. Foamy. Dry. Flavorless. Hard. Gag.

And then the other day I was sitting beside a co-worker as she was biting into a delicious-looking specimen.  "Where did you get that?" I asked, rather intensely.

"Piggly Wiggly," she slurped.

Guess where I stopped on the way home? And, wowzers, were they good! Still not up to PA snuff, but so so so much better than anything I've had for years.

So, today, when our friends Joe and Marie invited us over for dinner at the last minute (as only good friends do), the first thought that popped into my head was: PEACH PIE!!!

I based my recipe off of Cook's Illustrated's Foolproof Pie Crust and their Fresh Strawberry Pie. Chef Reiton helped whip the crust together (and I really do mean "whip." It takes less than 5 minutes to make, then it just chills, gets rolled out, and then chills in the pie plate a little bit longer while the oven heats.).  I prepped peaches for the glaze and the filling, my mouth watering all the while.

If you are lucky enough to have amazing peaches available, make yourself a treat this weekend.  Make yourself a fresh peach pie:



Shell Ingredients and Directions:

1 1/4 cups (6 1/4 oz.) all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1 Tblsp. sugar
10 Tblsps. unsalted butter (1 1/4 sticks)
3 Tblsp. cold vodka
1 Tblsp. ice water

In a food processor, combine only 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, salt, and the sugar, then pulse together with a few 1-second pulses to blend.  Drop in the cold butter, cut into 1/4-in. slices, and process for about 10 seconds.  The mixture will look like curds the size of cottage cheese.  Scrape down the sides and the bottom and redistribute the mixture evenly around the bowl.  Sprinkle the remaining flour over the top, then pulse about 5 or 6 more times.  The dough will come together into a ball, and then redistribute itself around the bowl.  Dump the mixture into a medium bowl.  

Mix together the vodka and ice water.  Sprinkle the dough with the mixture, then take a rubber spatula and start smashing, folding, and flattening the vodka-water into the dough, pressing the spatula down into the dough to help mix in the liquid.  It's going to look like it's not going to do anything at first; just give it time and keep flipping, smashing, folding, and pressing; it will get there.  The dough is going to resemble Playdough when you are done. (If it looks too dry, sprinkle in the tiniest amount of ice water--like 1/2 tsp. at a time).  Gather the dough into a ball, then dump it onto a square of plastic wrap.  Lay another piece of plastic on top, then flatten the ball into a 4-inch disc.  Wrap it tightly in plastic wrap and lay it in the fridge for at least 45 minutes (you can do this up to 2 days in advance).

Meanwhile, make your peach filling:

8 large ripe peaches (your thumb should readily sink into the flesh when you squeeze the peach)
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 cup. sugar
2 Tblsp. cornstarch
1 1/2 tsp. No Sugar Sure-Jell (pink box)
1 Tblsp. fresh squeeze lemon juice

Halve the peaches, then peel and pit them.  Cut each half into four wedges, then cut each wedge into 6 chunks.  Weigh out about 14 oz. (about 2 cups) of the peach chunks, then puree them in the food processor until they are completely smooth and juiced with no little chunks (a random big chunk or two is okay, as long as the rest is totally smooth). You will need 1 3/4 cups of puree when you are done for the glaze.  You may have to adjust this a bit.  The rest of the peaches you can cover and put in the fridge.

In a medium saucepan, whisk the sugar, salt, cornstarch, and Sure-Jell.  Whisk in the peach puree, then heat the mixture over medium-high heat, stirring constantly (really be careful to scrape the edges and corners of the pan so it doesn't scorch), until it comes to a full boil.  Boil for 2 minutes, stirring constantly.  You will see the glaze turn from opaque to translucent.  Take it off the heat, then stir in the lemon juice.  Let it cool completely.

Now go back to your pie crust: heat the oven to 425 degrees.   Have a rolling pin, aluminum foil, pie plate, pie weights (use a bag of dried beans of you don't have ceramic beads) and a piece of aluminum foil ready.  Take the dough out of the fridge, generously flour the countertop, and plop your dough disc in the middle of it.  Flour your rolling pin, then roll your dough out to about 12 in. in diameter, flouring your rolling pin as needed.  (To roll evenly, start each roll in the center and press with even pressure as your roll to an edge.  Always roll two opposite sides one after the other.  For example, if I roll straight up, then I roll down next.  If I roll to the right, then I roll to the left. If I roll to 2 o'clock, I roll to 8 o'clock next.  Get my drift?) When your dough is evenly rolled out, place your rolling pin about 3 inches from the dough's edge, flip the edge up over the top of the rolling pin, then roll the pin backwards, wrapping the dough around the pin as you roll.  Use a bench scraper to help work the dough up off the counter if it sticks at all.  Take your pie plate, place the dough-wrapped rolling pin at an edge of the plate, and unroll the dough into the pie plate.  Adjust the positioning if you need to, then gently ease and press the dough down into the plate.  Refrigerate the plate for about 30 minutes to firm up the dough again (you can skip this step if you are really short on time, but the constant refrigeration keeps the butter chunks hard and will make your dough much flakier at baking).

Take a pair of scissors and trim the excess crust to about 1 inch of the edge of the pie plate.  (It is always better to have a bigger edge than less, so be careful not to get too close to the edge of the plate.)  Take the excess and flip it under itself, working your way around the plate.  Now press the edge down in whatever decorative pattern you want.  You can use the tines of a fork; you can push it down with your thumb at intervals; you can squish it with a knuckle on your right hand into the crevice of your left hand's pinched thumb and pointer finger.  Get creative.  Now prick all over the bottom and sides of the dough with a fork; this helps air escape that is going to heat and try to bubble up in and under the dough.  Put the crust in the fridge to firm up for about 15 minutes, then take the aluminum foil, gently press it into the pie plate, and dump in the weights.  Place the crust in the oven for 15 minutes.  Carefully remove the foil and weights, prick any bubbles that have formed with a fork, and continue baking the crust for another 5-10 minutes until the crust is nice and golden.  Cool it completely on a wire rack.

By this point your glaze should be cool.  Take the rest of the peaches out of the fridge, and dump them into the glaze, folding to coat every piece with your amazing homemade concoction.  Pour the filling into your cooled pie crust, then put the whole pie in the fridge.  Let it firm up for at least 2 hours, but no more than 5.  The CI guys say it will start affecting the crust at that point.  They also say to eat it all right away.  Darn.

Cut the pie into large slices, serve with freshly whipped cream, and savor those peaches as long as your will power possibly can.

Monday, August 19, 2013

An Experimental Recipe for Bob and Jerry: Mini Blueberry-Lemon Cakes

To start off this post, I must begin with: BOB AND JERRY, YOU ARE the BEST!!!

I walked into my little middle school library this morning, ready to help Bob and Jerry move some bookshelves—and they were done! I immediately yelled for no one to hear, "You guys are AWESOME!" and plunked the cake carrier I had in my hand down on the floor to survey their work.  They literally left nothing else for me to move.  Every other item on my floor plan, besides the bookshelves, had not only been put into place but thoroughly cleaned.  I'm telling you, school custodians ROCK.

So, what was in the cake carrier I had set on the floor? An experiment that came to mind a few days ago while I was at the grocery store, gazing at the plums.  They were on sale, and after making that frickin' amazing semifreddo for our anniversary party, plums have become my new friend.  I bought two, along with some peaches, blueberries, and blackberries.

Later that evening, as I was thinking of meeting Bob and Jerry and wanting to bake them something to thank them, I had this idea: what if I made little mini pound cakes in muffin tins, and what if I took slices of plum and laid them in the muffin tins first before I put in the batter, so that when I inverted the pan, I had this luscious slice of fruit on top of a golden, buttery cake?

In the book Ratio by Michael Ruhlman that I am reading (I told you it was going to come up again), he has a recipe for pound cake.  I decided to use that and then tweak it to include the fruit.   I love baking his way because he has you weigh almost everything.  I even weighed the eggs! If you don't have a kitchen scale, yet, you must acquire one.  Once you own one, you will not know what you did without it.  You can get a good one that does both grams and ounces and has a tare key (so you can weigh things in a bowl without accounting for the weight of the bowl) for under $25 on Amazon.

Anyway, with pound cake, the fat, flour, eggs, and sugar are all equal parts.  Easy squeezy to remember.  It's called pound cake because you used to use a pound of each ingredient to make the cake! That's a lot of pound cake.  So here's what I did (mildly adapted, once again) with Ruhlman's guidance:

1) While I heated the oven to 325 degrees, I gathered all of my ingredients and weighed them out or prepped them.



I buttered (with real butter) one nonstick muffin tin at this point, too.



Interestingly, Ruhlman says that allowing a finished batter to sit releases the air that you just beat into it, so you want it to go into the pan as soon as you are done beating it—hence buttering now and NOT later.

Here are the ingredients:
  • 8 oz. (2 sticks) of unsalted butter at room temperature (ideally between 65 and 70 degrees.  Never knew that before! I actually stuck a digital thermometer in it to check! Ha!)
  • 8 oz. sugar
  • 1 tsp. kosher salt
  • 8 oz. eggs, which is about 4 large eggs plus 1 yolk, also at room temperature (I cracked them into the bowl and allowed them to come to room temperature), whisked lightly to combine (which I forgot to do and it was okay)
  • zest of 1 lemon
  • 1 Tblsp. of lemon juice from that lemon
  • 1 tsp. vanilla
  • 8 oz. flour
  • 72 blueberries
  • ground cinnamon
2) Now I loaded the muffin tin: in each cup I dropped 6 blueberries then sprinkled a dash of ground cinnamon on top of them.


3) With the oven hot and everything ready to go, I now made the batter.  (Note: I use a KitchenAid stand mixer which uses a paddle.  This mixer is incredibly efficient and knocks the socks off of any hand or stand mixer that you can buy.  Again, I know they are pricey, but if you can get one, or get people to pool Christmas/birthday money together to buy you one, BEG for one.  They will change the way you cook, I swear.  Anyway, because of its power and efficiency, the times I am listing will be different, i.e. longer, if you are using a regular mixer.)
  • for 1 minute -- beat the butter on MEDIUM speed
  • for 2-3 minutes -- add the sugar and salt to the butter and beat it all together on MEDIUM-HIGH until the coloring is very pale yellow and the butter mixture has grown in volume about a third
  • for 1 minute-ish -- add the eggs slowly so they blend well into the butter mixture
  • add the lemon juice, zest, and vanilla and mix in well
  • turn the mixer down to MEDIUM-LOW and add the flour, mixing only long enough to blend the flour in--which isn't very long
That's it.  Ruhlman doesn't say anything about scraping down the sides, but I stopped the mixer a few times to do so, and then ran it again to make sure everything was mixed together well.


4) Using a number 40 ice cream scoop (I use this all the time to portion out dough and batter), I plopped a heaping scoop of batter into each cup, smoothed the tops a bit, then put the tin in the oven.



I baked them for 25 minutes, let them cool in the pan on a wire rack for 5 minutes, then inverted them out onto a cutting board.


Will I be doing this again? YES.  These babies are firm but tender, bright from the lemon and blueberries, buttery and eggy and just perfectly sweet.

But I'll try it a bit differently next time.  What I had wanted was to be able to flip these out of the muffin tin and serve them bottoms up.  I put too much batter in the cups, though, so the tops were mounded; they didn't lay flat upside down.  I need to use less batter next time.

And—did you notice? I used blueberries instead of the plums that I had mentioned. (The plums I bought weren't looking as pretty as I wanted when I sliced one open.)  Next time I'll try it with plums with a different spice and see how that goes.

So happy with these, though.  As I bit into the first one and began to chew, I felt a big smile start to spread across my face...

Friday, July 26, 2013

Summer Food Fabulousness—and Tips on Making Granita

A few months ago, my sister bought Chef Reiton and I a subscription to Bon Appétit magazine.  I started getting it near the end of the school year, and I have to admit that the first few issues lay rather neglected on the bedside table (albeit with covers longingly looked at briefly every night as I fell into bed).  I was just too busy and too tired to find the time to read them.  (You all knew that already, though--hence my long periods of silence in which you all wait with baited breath for the next post...ha ha ha.)

Gratefully, the school year ended.

The day before I left to go on yet another trip this summer, the July issue, the Grilling Issue, arrived in my mailbox.  One of my musts when I fly anywhere is to buy myself a magazine to read on the flight.  Normally I do this in the airport.  It's a fun little ritual of mine to search among the wall of magazines and find one that I have wanted to subscribe to but am too cheap to spend the $25 a year to do so.  

But as I pulled BA-July out of the mailbox, I immediately knew that my ritual was going to hell.  The magazine I wanted to read was right here in my hands.  The glossy paper of the cover added a juicy effect to the extreme close-up shot of red hot chicken skewers laid across the page, delicately sprinkled with lacy cilantro leaves and torn bits of basil.  My mouth watered.  I didn't even have to open the magazine to know that that delightful little entree was going to be mine as soon as I could possibly make it.

I continued flipping.  And drooling.  An article on frozen desserts flashed past my eyes: sherbert, popsicles, semifreddo.  And there were those chicken kebabs again, surrounded by other grilled chicken recipes: beer canned.  Smoked.  Spatchcocked?  Dear God... Is this what this magazine would do to me? Why had I waited so long???

So.  Upon return from my travels, I immediately made the Sambal Chicken Skewers for Michael and I (minus the fish sauce--I didn't have any, and have never cooked well with it when I have had it, so I just substituted soy sauce, much to the chagrin of many out there, I am sure.  Sorry.  Still want to make it? Click on the recipe name to link to BA's online recipe.)


Shortly thereafter we had Chef Reiton's family over for dinner, and so we made them some smoked spatchcocked chicken,


baby potato salad (using tarragon as our herb of choice, instead of chives),


avocado and tangerine salad with jalapeno vinaigrette (thank you, Jack Johnson. Can I come out to visit and cook with you?), 




The process for making a granita is amazingly simple.  So simple that I'm embarrassed it took me so many years to actually make one, despite the fact that I had wanted to for so long.  There are only two steps, really.

Step 1) Puree your fruit of choice, sugar, liqueur, lemon juice, and salt in a blender, then pour the puree into a mesh strainer held over a 9x13" pan.  Smash and stir the puree through the strainer with a big rubber spatula and into the pan; soon all you will have left in the strainer are seeds and/or fiber.  

(BA used 4 cups of fruit, 1/2 cup of sugar, 1 Tblsp. of liqueur, and 1 Tblsp. of lemon juice.  I'm not sure if those rations are going to work equally with all fruits, but that's what I'm going to try the next time. Keep in mind, as well, that the liqueur used here was creme de cassis (about 40 proof).  My guess is that you wouldn't want to go with anything much higher in alcohol content or you might mess with the freezing temperature too much.  No vodka, okay (which usually starts at about 80 proof)?

To help, below is a shot of the actual blackberries getting sieved, but the picture below that shows what it looks like after (I had done the same process with some raspberries).  And for a vocab lesson: this is the technique discussed when you read that you are to be "pressing on the solids."  (I always wondered what the hell that meant until I poured the puree into the strainer and it just sat there, dripping drop by drop into the pan, and I thought, "This is going to take all night!")



Step 2) Smooth the top of the fruit mixture in the pan so that it is evenly distributed (you want the mixture to freeze evenly), then put the pan in the freezer at a level position for 30 minutes.  After half an hour, take it out, scrape all the frozen parts with a fork to break up the ice, then put it back in the freezer for another 30 minutes.  Do this about 4 times (depending on the temperature of your freezer).

 Just so you can have an idea of what to expect things to look like, here's what the granita looked like after scraping #1:



scraping #2:


scraping #3:


and scraping #4, the final one with the granita being all flaky and frosty, ready to be covered and put back in the freezer until it was ready to serve.  YUM.


With that rash of cooking done, all from the BA-July edition, and with all of it being simple and delicious, we decided to make a few more items from it for our month-belated anniversary party (can you believe it? Time flies when you are having fun!)

 First was the snap pea and cabbage slaw, which multiple people asked for the recipe for:


and next was the plum semifreddo, which I did not get pictures of because it was served in the middle of the party, but here is a picture of the gorgeous plums, simmering away before being pureed, pressed through the seive, then folded into a heavenly blend of glossy meringue and whipped cream before being frozen: 


 Oh, divinely, heavenly food.  Ben Franklin was wrong: it is beer AND food that lets us know God loves us.  And God bless Bon Appetit for tempting us to make it!

Saturday, November 17, 2012

A Foodie Honeymoon: Wednesday Lunch at American Sector

What a crappy day for weather it was on our Wednesday afternoon.  Torrential rains left us stranded for half an hour in a bar just two blocks from our hotel after we'd left to catch a streetcar for the National World War II Museum.  The unrelenting storm nixed that romantic streetcar plan, and we decided to call for a cab instead.  The streets were looking pretty swamped.

But our outlook wasn't dampened whatsoever that afternoon as we headed to lunch.  Today we were going to eat at American Sector, Besh's nod to American comfort food--just kicked up a notch.  The taxi dropped us at the door, and we bolted inside.

This restaurant had a very similar feel to Domenica: very open and loft-like, full of light and glass.  But here, I was hoping for a little something extra--and as we approached the host station, I got it: a hostess wearing bright red lipstick and coiffed hair greeted us with a smile.  Perfect characterization.

The restaurant was broken into two seating areas: a smaller room, partitioned off from the main dining room by a glass wall, was in full view as you entered the restaurant.  The larger dining area, where we were seated, was decorated with what looked like metal stripes undulating across the ceiling-- something like a flag, waving in the breeze-- and centered around a very large oval bar.

Within moments of being seated, our waitress, a cute blonde named Jocelyn, came to greet us, and within a few minutes more I could tell that, like all the other amazing servers we had had thus far, she, too, knew the food and was willing to talk.  And I, once again, was so incredibly grateful for this one hour relationship that I knew was going to develop.  Whether they know it or not, Besh's staff provide a rare reward to diners such as ourselves with this openness.  It's not just the food that sets them apart.   It's like that little mint you get once-in-a-blue-moon with your check: you don't pay for it, so you don't expect it, but when you get it, it is sincerely appreciated.

Jocelyn took our drink orders (I opted to try the housemade seasonal peach soda) and then proceeded to entice us with the appetizer of the day: squash blossoms stuffed with shrimp and ricotta, tempura battered and fried, and then scattered with baby herbs, tomatoes, shaved ham, and caramelized pineapple. Intriguing.  So we got it.  As for the main course, both of us immediately zeroed in on what we were going to get: Chef Reiton wanted the short rib "sloppy joe" with fries, and I couldn't stop fantasizing about the chicken and dumplings.  Both very American, and both one of our favorite foods.

After Jocelyn left we talked about our evening plans of going to Preservation Hall, of the gifts we wanted to take home for our family--and before long, this piece of art was brought to the table:

stuffed and fried squash blossoms at American Sector in New Orleans, LA

In five minutes flat, this is what was left of it:


I'm not even going to try to describe what eating a flower stuffed with cheese and shrimp then fried and blended with caramelized pineapple was like.  Just--please...if you ever are offered the chance to try them: DO.

Soon after our empty plate was removed from the table, our main courses arrived.  So fitting with the theme of the restaurant, the presentation itself was classic.  My chicken and dumplings-- a slowly stewed concoction of chicken, green beans, yellow squash, carrots, porcini mushrooms, and tiny dumplings in a thick chicken gravy-- came in a little enameled cast iron pot.

chicken pot pie at American Sector in New Orleans, LA

Chef Reiton's short rib sandwich, piled with fried onion straws and tomato and lettuce straight from the kitchen garden, was plated on a mini chopping block with fresh cut fries in a tin can.

short rib sandwich and fries at American Sector in New Orleans, LA

And the flavors? They were perfect, simply because they were exactly what you wanted them to be.  Isn't that what comfort food is all about? Flavor-infused memories.

Being the great waitress that she was, Jocelyn had already done her job of selling us on dessert before we had even finished our main entree.  So, with barely enough room for two bites, much less a dozen, Chef Reiton and I agreed to indulge in two classic American desserts.

The first: hot apple pie, homemade butter pecan ice cream, and pralines

mini apple pie and butter pecan ice cream at American Sector in New Orleans, LA

and a devil's food cupcake stuffed with Nutella, with a side of homemade vanilla ice cream.

devil's food cupcake stuffed with Nutella at American Sector in New Orleans, LA

Oh, heavens.  So so so yummy.

I seriously think we waddled out of the restaurant.  And the thought about eating dinner that night made me want to die.

But the thought about eating dinner tomorrow night??? Oh, that one made me very, very happy.

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