Archive for the ‘Dessert’ Category

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Stewed dried fruit

13 April 2013

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My intention was to make Louisa’s cake, which I’ve craved since I first saw it two years ago. And since I had no ricotta at home I thought making my own, as I’ve also been wanting to do for a long time, would be the perfect, lazy Saturday morning, we’ve-been-away-and-I-haven’t-cooked-in-a-week sort of project. So I set forth, resolutely and with a tinge of excitement, salting and boiling cream and milk, when I realized there was no cheesecloth at home, either.

Perhaps it was the slow pace induced by a gorgeously sunny, cold week by the sea, cycling, walking, eating, and generally just being, but I was completely stumped. Not for a moment; for many minutes, an hour maybe. Just standing there in the kitchen, wondering what in the world I might do with two liters of salty milk, and what dessert might be on a post-vacation weekend. The invitation was a last minute thing, too.

I thought about the stewed fruits, something I used to make often, in winter especially, but rarely do anymore, for no particular reason. We usually have dried fruit around the house, and though a bit short on prunes to my taste, there was a good enough mix for my purpose.

A few hours had gone by, the morning behind us, and the milk still on the stovetop, so I decided to make a very dense, creamy yogurt to go with the fruit, as I’d done before.

All went quite well from then on. I added bay leaf to my usual recipe, and was very pleased with the result. Of course, the yogurt was nowhere near being set in time for dinner, but I had some commercial greek yogurt handy, too.

My salty yogurt is still sitting in the fridge. I’ve been thinking of making cheese, but for that I’d need some cloth.

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This dessert is very good and extremely easy. Adapted from Jüdische Küche by Elizabeth Wolf-Cohen.

200-250 g (1 1/2 cups) dried figs

200-250 g (1 1/2 cups) dried apricots, preferably unsulphured

200-250 g (1 1/2 cups) prunes

100-150 g raisins

(Also dried apples, pears, unsweetened dried pineapples, as desired, adjusting the quantities to have enough syrup to cover all the fruit)

2 lemons

4 Tbsps honey

6 or 7 cloves

1 or 2 cinnamon sticks (depending on their size)

About 20 peppercorns

1 bay leaf
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Make a syrup with 2 l (8 cups) water, the rind and juice from the lemons, the honey, cloves, cinnamon, peppercorns, and bay leaf. Bring to a boil and simmer for 5 minutes.

Add the figs (and pears if using) and simmer for 10 minutes.

Add the apricots (and apples and pineapple if using) and simmer for another 10 minutes.

Finally, add the prunes and raisins and simmer for a final 10 minutes (total stewing time 30 minutes).

Let the fruit cool in the liquid then refrigerate for a few hours at least before serving with thick yogurt or crème fraîche. (Remove peppercorns, cloves, and bay leaf before serving, or warn your guests.)

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Posted in Dessert, Easy | 2 Comments »

Really good brownies

25 January 2013

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Nigel Slater’s brownie recipe is, in his words, “just a 24-carat brownie, as dense and fudgy as Glastonbury Festival mud.” Who would resist? I, for one, couldn’t. Though I rarely make chocolate dessert — a whole year might go by — and never choose the chocolate option on a restaurant menu.

It’s not, as I sometimes explain for simplicity’s sake, because I don’t like it much. The truth is that, in matters of chocolate, I am embarrassingly picky. While most fruity cakes, tarts, and crumbles make me happy, chocolate doesn’t often hit the mark. It’s not as simple as dark or milk, cake or mousse, it’s a subtle dance in proportions: the shade, the butter, the nuts; it’s entirely subjective. For me, the perfect chocolate confection lies somewhere between a pecan blondie and a sombre, flour-less, nutty chocolate cake.

Which swept me right into the lap of this deep dark, spot-on fudgy brownie. It could be the only chocolate dessert I make all year.

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Very slightly adapted from Nigel Slater’s The Kitchen Diaries

I substituted “60 g of finest-quality cocoa powder” with an equal amount of additional regular chocolate (and so reduced the sugar very slightly). I also added pecans, of course.

2 cups (260 g) sugar

1 cup and 2 Tbsps (250 g) butter (more to butter the pan)

11 ounces (310 g) dark chocolate (70%)

3 eggs plus 1 yolk

1/2 cup (60 g) flour

1/2 tsp baking powder

Pinch of salt

1 cup pecans or walnuts, roughly chopped (optional)

Take the butter out of the refrigerator to soften at room temperature.

Preheat oven to 350°F (180°C). Line a baking tin, approximately 9″ (23 cm) square, with parchment paper. Butter the paper and the sides of the pan.

Prepare a pan of simmering water. Break the chocolate into pieces and set aside about 2 ounces (50 g). Melt the chocolate (except the 2 ounces) in a bowl sitting atop, but not in, the simmering water. Once melted, remove the chocolate from the heat and set aside to cool. Chop the remaining 2 ounces of chocolate into chip size pieces.

In a large bowl, beat the sugar and softened butter thoroughly, until very light and creamy.

Break the eggs into a small bowl and whisk briefly with a spoon. Add the eggs to the sugar/butter mixture, little by little, stirring thoroughly in between.

Add the melted and the chopped chocolate.

Mix in the flour sifted together with the baking powder and a pinch of salt. Do not overstir, stop as soon as all the flour has disappeared.

Finally fold in the pecans, carefully with as few large strokes as possible.

Scrape the batter into the prepared baking tin, smooth the top, and slide into the oven to bake for approximately 30. Test for doneness with the point of a sharp knife that should come out wet but without raw batter attached. Return to the oven for a few minutes if necessary until done. **The brownies will continue to solidify a bit once they are out of the oven, careful not to overcook!**

Let cool for at least an hour before cutting.

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Related posts

Cake with pear and toasted hazelnuts

Orange almond cake

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Posted in Baking, Dessert | 15 Comments »

A carrot cake for Halloween

9 November 2012

I felt so organized, I had it all planned out. I would not only make the cake but photograph it and publish it here on Halloween. My plans were thwarted by a storm which, uncharacteristically among New York weather forecasts, turned out to be stronger and much more damaging than anyone expected. Taking the warnings lightly at first we didn’t stock up on food, water, or candles. We didn’t try to locate our missing flashlight.

Subways stopped running on Sunday evening; on Monday schools and offices were closed. Homebound by this citywide shutdown, we huddled and played games all morning. The hurricane was on its way, barely perceptible but for the blustery weather, and we were waiting. Suddenly we felt we must go out. Now was the moment, while there was still time.

The impulse was to go toward the water, see the swollen river, perch on benches to watch the eerily high Hudson. It seems frivolous now. The city was already deserted. The empty park, the windswept streets. We decided perhaps we should make provisions, after all, and my thoughts were, stubbornly, on the Halloween cake.

Some stores that had been open were closing, sending us and a few forlorn tourists on their way. We finally found one, ransacked of chicken and ice cream but with plenty of carrots and walnuts. I forgot to look for candles. We stopped at a pharmacy, they were sold out. I bought two different sizes of batteries hoping one might fit the flashlight, if I could find it.

That night the hurricane came with howling winds and crashing trees, but in our corner of town the power didn’t go out, the lights barely flickered. The next morning I even made the cake. Then the news started getting worse. Those without power were soon without water. Stories of houses burned to the ground, scenes of complete devastation.

So we started checking up on friends, offering food, hot showers, and power outlets. And friends came. And it was Halloween. And though all was dark downtown and broken elsewhere we went trick or treating in Harlem, with neighbors. I even finished the cake, with icing and evil-looking spiders. Just in time.

The news kept getting worse. Within a few days some areas recovered electricity, water, and heat; others did not. Many have lost much more. We were unnaturally lucky, so close and so unscathed. My mind hasn’t been on cooking. Feeding friends and family, yes, but not cooking.

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Carrot Cake

For the past three years I’ve made carrot cake for Halloween, adorned with what I think are pretty cool, mean-looking, edible prune and cranberry spiders. I’m not exactly sure how I got hung up on that particular type of cake but in my mind it presented itself as the natural choice. I was inspired by a few recipes to achieve this one, which comes quite close to my ideal version of a carrot cake. Dense but moist, not too sweet, with nuts.

1 cup (225 g) butter (and a little extra to butter the pan)

1 1/4 cup (200 g) brown sugar

4 eggs

1/2 (150 ml) cup buttermilk

1 tsp vanilla extract

1/4 cup (75 ml) honey

2 cups (250 g) flour, half white half whole wheat

2 tsps baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

2 tsps salt

2 cups (250 g) finely grated carrots

1 1/2 cups chopped walnuts

1/2 (100 g) cup raisins

1 cup (250 ml) apple sauce

Take the butter out of the refrigerator to soften at room temperature for about 15-20 min.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C) and line the bottom of an 11-inch (28 cm) round cake pan with parchment paper. Butter the paper and the sides of the pan.

In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with the sugar until the mixture becomes light colored and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, whisking well to combine. Add the buttermilk, vanilla extract, and honey, mixing well.

In another bowl, mix together the flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

Add the flour to the sugar/butter/egg mixture, stirring just enough so the flour disappears.

Gently add the carrots, walnuts, raisins, and apple sauce.

Bake in the oven for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 min. The cake is done when a knife inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean.

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Icing

8 Tbsps (110 g) unsalted butter

6 oz. (170 g) cream cheese

1 lb (500 g) mascarpone

1 1/2 cups (150 g) icing sugar

Zest and juice from 1 lemon

At room temperature, let the butter become very soft. In a medium bowl, beat it well with a spatula.

In a small bowl, beat the cream cheese well before mixing it with the butter. Once the cream cheese is incorporated with the butter, beat the mascarpone well before adding it to the butter and cream cheese.

Sift the icing sugar before mixing it into the butter/cream cheese/mascarpone mix.

Finish by stirring in the lemon zest and juice.

Refrigerate the icing about 1/2 hour before spreading it onto the cake.

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Spiders

1 prune and 1 large sweetened cranberry per spider

Cut the prune into thin slivers lengthwise to create eight spider legs. Place the cranberry on the cake so as to make the body of the spider. Arrange the ‘legs’ around it.

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Posted in Dessert, Halloween, Holidays | Leave a Comment »

Rhubarb raspberry crostata

21 July 2012

I wasn’t going to make this, I admit. I saw the crostata on Lottie + Doof when it was published a few weeks ago and somehow dismissed it, as I might have snubbed a recipe that combines rhubarb and strawberries. In my mind rhubarb is not enhanced by berries of any sort. (Rosemary as a gentle herbal boost, on the other hand, is a different story.)

But I arrived in Brittany in the midst of what everyone claimed to be the worst summer (summer?) in recent memory. I’d already enjoyed a generous dose of sun and heat in New York, so I didn’t mind much, and the terrible weather had brought with it a few perks: still plenty of rhubarb at the market and lots of raspberries in the garden, bravely defying the odds on overgrown bushes left to fend for themselves all year long. (Also elders still in bloom! But more on that later.)

I bought rhubarb, as I always do; eyed the raspberries calling out for prompt picking; and remembered that a friend had recently raved about this crostata. The decision seemed to make itself.

As it turned out, I loved everything about the recipe. The crust is great. The technique of bending it back over the pie so simple and clever. And, well, the combination of rhubarb and raspberry really is well inspired, after all. (I did add a sprig of rosemary to infuse the filling as it was cooking, it was irresistible. Otherwise everything remains pretty much the same.)

The great thing here is that the crust and rolling technique can be used with all kinds of fruit. I imagine peach slices tossed with a little sugar and a few sprigs of thyme simply placed on the crust (uncooked) before baking would be excellent, too.

Recipe by Karen DeMasco in Bon Appétit via Lottie + Doof

For the  crust

1 cup (125 g) white flour

1/2 cup (75 g) whole wheat flour

1 Tbsp sugar

1/2 tsp sea salt

3/4 (170g) cup butter

1 large egg

1 Tbsp whole milk

Keep the butter well chilled.

In a large bowl, combine the flours, sugar, and salt.

Cut the cold butter into cubes, add to the flour mixture, and combine until the dough has the texture of coarse oatmeal.

In a small bowl, whisk the egg and milk to combine well. Add the egg/milk to the flour/butter mixture, and work the dough just enough so that it can be gathered into a ball. If you need a little more moisture (I did), add some water, a few drops at a time, until the dough can be shaped.

Flatten the ball and place in the refrigerator, covered snugly with parchment paper, to rest for at least 1 1/2 hours and up to 2 days.

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For the filling

1/4 cup (30 g) cornstarch

4 cups (about 500 g) rhubarb

1 pint raspberries

2/3 cup (135 g) sugar

1 sprig rosemary

In a small bowl, dissolve the cornstarch in 3 Tbsps water and set aside.

Wash, peel as necessary, and cut the rhubarb into 1/2 inch (1 cm) pieces. Never wash raspberries but check through them to remove leaves or any damaged berries.

Combine the rhubarb, raspberries, rosemary, and sugar in a large heavy saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring regularly, until the sugar dissolves and the juices are released, about 4 to 5 minutes. Stir in the diluted cornstarch and bring to a boil, then transfer to a bowl and chill until cool, about 30 minutes. **The rhubarb will not be soft, the slices still intact; it will cook through later as the crostata bakes in the oven.**

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The crostata

Flour for rolling the dough

1 egg and 1 tsp milk for the egg wash

A little brown sugar for sprinkling on the edges of the crostata

Remove dough from refrigerator and allow about 15 minutes for it to soften with the ambient heat and become easy to handle (but not too much or the dough becomes sticky and difficult to roll).

Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C).

Roll out the dough onto a large piece of floured parchment paper to about 12″ (30 cm), taking good care that it doesn’t stick and adding flour if necessary.

Beat one egg with a tsp milk and brush the crust with the egg wash (this helps seal the crust so the juices from the fruit don’t make it soggy).

Remove the sprig rosemary from the cooled filling and scoop the filling carefully onto the crust, spreading it evenly from the center outward leaving a 2″ (5 cm) border. Gently fold the edges of the dough back over the filling.

Brush the borders with the egg wash and sprinkle with sugar. Slide the parchment paper with the crostata onto a baking sheet, then into the oven and bake until the crust is golden and the filling bubbly, about 45 minutes.

Let the crostata cool. Serve with crème fraîche or whipped cream.

PS: Photos are of the uncooked crostata and here I added a few fresh raspberries just before baking. This is not reflected in the recipe.

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Posted in Dessert, Summer | 2 Comments »

Quick lemon and lime tart

2 May 2012

In my world, lemon pie is a little like roast chicken; having been introduced to the utterly convincing very elaborate version, I had forgotten how quick and easy it can also be.

The herbs-stuffed-under-the-skin-of-the-chicken version of lemon pie is that of the River Café Cookbook Blue. It requires 6 whole eggs plus 9 yolks and half an eternity of patient stirring over a very low fire. It is the mother, grandmother, fairy godmother, and evil aunt of all lemon pies. It should be made at least once in a lifetime.

But if you don’t have 15 eggs or an entire day to spare, there is this recipe, which asks for nothing more than to whisk all the reasonably proportioned ingredients together, pour them into a pre-cooked tart shell, and bake.

This is the child prodigy of lemon pies. Effortless. Very tart, with an unconventional twist of lime. Addictive.

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Recipe slightly adapted from The Naked Chef by Jamie Oliver

1 unbaked sweet pie crust

Egg-wash (1 egg and a little milk)

Zest from 2 limes

3/4 cup (200 ml) fresh lime juice (4 to 5 limes)

Zest from 2 lemons

3/4 cup (200 ml) fresh lemon juice (3 to 4 lemons)

1 1/2 cups (300 g) sugar

8 large eggs

1 1/2 cups (350 ml) heavy cream

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Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C).

With a fork, mix 1 egg with a little milk and egg-wash the uncooked pie crust before baking blind.

Bake the pie crust blind for 10 to 12 minutes minutes. **When baking blind either poke a bunch of small wholes into the crust with a fork, or use dried beans or ceramic baking weights on the crust to prevent it from rising.**

Remove the blind-baked crust from the oven and set aside while making the filling.

Grate the limes and lemons for their zest. Squeeze the limes to obtain 3/4 cup juice and the lemons to obtain 3/4 cup lemon juice.

In a large bowl, whisk together the sugar and eggs until the yolks are completely broken up and the mixture becomes very smooth.

Stir in the heavy cream, then the lime and lemon juice.

Place the blind-baked pie crust back onto the oven rack then pour in the filling (this avoids spillage, as the pie will be filled up to the rim).

Bake the tart for 35 to 40 minutes until it is barely starting to turn golden and still a little wobbly in the middle. It will set as it cools.

Let cool completely before serving.

Fresh strawberries or raspberries would be a great complement to this pie, but just a little unsweetened home-whipped cream goes really well too.

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Related posts

Walnut tarte with Chartreuse

Roast chicken with lemon and fennel seeds

Basic | Sweet pie crust

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Posted in Dessert, Easy, Winter | 8 Comments »

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