SHF: my one true dessert love

i’m not sure i can pinpoint, exactly, my first experience with profiteroles. i *think* it was at chez jenny, an alsatian chicken joint in paris that my dad found in his dk guide, lovingly referred to as “the bible.” chez jenny is the perfect amalgamation of brasserie and hofbrauhaus, serving up that paragon of simple french artistry: the roasted half of free-range chicken.

with sides.

and, as it happens, with dessert. and here is where my crush began, as i looked skeptically at the dessert menu. it was my first night in paris, my first time in paris, and yet another family vacation that did not include a beach or warm weather. i was jet-lagged and suffering from sensory overload and looking at a dessert menu that i could not begin to comprehend. “what,” i am certain my 17-year-old self would have asked, “are profiteroles?” profiteroles au chocolat chaud, glace vanille, to be precise.

the exact mechanics of it escape my memory but i was, at length, persuaded that profiteroles would make an enjoyable dessert choice. and i was smitten.

my second most-memorable profiterole experience comes in london, several years later. it is, sadly, possible that i was unable to experience profiteroles at any time between these two events. this second encounter was nearly as inauspicious as the first one: a classically cold, rainy fall night in london, where the sun had set depressingly early. i had been meant to spend the day in paris, watching tennis matches at roland garros (this continues to be an ambition of mine), only the eurostar had been unexpectedly stopped due to some sort of calamity farther down the tracks. two of my friends, each of whom spent much less time wandering aimlessly around the streets of london than i, were content to follow me as i led them toward an italian place in seven dials i had been meaning to try.

dinner was simple and lovely, with wine on the side. and my heart leapt when i saw the dessert menu included profiteroles. these were positively smothered in hot chocolate sauce and delicious.

which is as a profiterole should be.

so you can imagine my great delight when i first began learning how to cook and saw, deep in the pages of my martha stewart baking book, a recipe for pate a choux…and profiteroles. i became determined to make a choux and yet for nearly two years could not find the time, the occasion or the inclination to do so. mostly i was concerned about leftovers (silly me).

then, last month, at the behest of daring baker helene of tartette, i undertook to make a gateau st-honore. and guess what one of the components includes?

this time, being free from all restraint, i pulled two recipes. one from the sinfully well-photographed seven sins of chocolate, for the choux. the second was from emily luchetti’s passion for ice cream, where she includes a profiterole recipe with orange custard chip ice cream.

i confess that i had originally tried ms. luchetti’s recipe, last week for my saturday dinner. my saturday dinner last week got turned on its head by the dying of my beloved mixer, right in the middle of rolling out fresh pasta dough. since my mixer is also my ice cream maker, i put the orange-custard-ice cream back in the fridge and watched my profiteroles, which were already baking, collapse because i slammed the oven door too hard.

i needed a clean slate this time. i rolled up my sleeves in my newly-cleaned kitchen and made the choux. the seven sins recipe is actually completely simple, eschewing the use of a mixer or anything fancy. i pulled out a wooden spoon, collected my csa fresh eggs, milk and butter, and set to with a vengeance, determined to get it right this time.

for ice cream, i took a pound of my csa strawberries and blended them with still more fresh milk, some sugar, and a squeeze of fresh lemon for a light and super-fruity philadelphia-style ice cream. i highly recommend this method—it was the sweetest, most strawberry-flavored ice cream i’ve ever enjoyed.

at long last, i pulled the choux puffs out of the oven and set them to cool. i was baffled at first by the moistness of the choux interior but eventually grasped that the delightful web of pastry forms as the choux cools. i left well enough alone and came back after dinner to slice the pretty little things in half, scoop a fresh bit of strawberry ice cream on them, and drizzle several generous spoonfuls of fresh strawberry-rhubarb compote (also from my csa) over the result.

wherein i rhapsodize about my CSA

my one regret in leaving our nation’s capitol was leaving my farmers’s market in dupont circle, every sunday morning like clockwork for fruits, veg, meat, cheese, yogurt and most especially dairy.

it’s not like i’m crying over my easy access to the union square farmers’ market instead, just that i loved the convenience of throwing on a pair of shorts on a hot sunday morning with my pajama top and strolling the market for my week’s shopping. for the time being, at least during my pseudo-exile on the new jersey side of the hudson river, i am still without reliable farmers’ market access. union square is just on the far side of a lunch hour.

and then, as if by serendipity, my dailycandy delivered a solution: sweet deliverance NYC. kelly, a marvelous and creative woman, decided to place herself as a middle-woman between the garden of eve farm on long island and the snobbishly food-challenged here in the city. and best of all, she picks up the share each weekend and spends all day sunday cooking an entire menu of options for the week’s share.

for me, i went in for a vegetable, egg, fruit and flower share every other week until thanksgiving, and then sweet-talked kelly into letting me have an extra fruit share every week, raw, for my own cooking fantasies.

i debated over the veg share for several days before i signed up. i don’t usually believe in vegetables. especially green ones. or gourd vegetables, i don’t eat gourd vegetables. or asparagus. or...anything, really. but cooking has really expanded my food horizons and i hoped that maybe i could learn a few new things while forcing myself to each green and leafy plantlife. my skepticism increased when i saw the first week’s menu--there it was, in black and white, asparagus. but the other options included a quiche with arugula, tomatoes and bacon and braised bok choi with shiitake mushrooms. stir-fried kale with white rice and spicy pumpkin seeds. garlicky pea shoots.



for the past three weeks, meal after meal has just cooked itself, as i pulled together elements from my share and fresh groceries. sunday’s dinner? a nigel slater-inspired lamb-filled pita with farm-fresh butterhead lettuce and kale with white rice on the side. friday’s dessert? the tastiest strawberry ice cream ever, making use of a pound of fresh strawberries from long island. i had pasta and A SALAD for dinner last week, trying to use up the lettuce. strawberry rhubarb compote spooned over fresh profiteroles.

all i need are for the fresh cherries to start coming, and my life will be complete.

the second coming of sylvia

i had my second new school class, in pies and tarts. ostensibly it was a seasonal class, using fresh fruits, but it was more of an all-around. it was particularly helpful for me to watch the pie dough being mixed and rolled, because now i’ve seen it done simply and properly. i had fun with the different kinds of filling, particularly the tarte tatin, which was delightfully simple to make and will be something to keep in the culinary arsenal come fall.

i also got some inspiration for the rhubarb i’ve got sitting in the fridge, leftover from last week’s supplementary CSA delivery. i’m going to sweeten the rhubarb with some dried sour cherries--or, if i really get lucky, some fresh ones. i want to make it to the union square greenmarket this week and check out the latest offerings. much to my chagrin, i have not yet visited since i’ve been back in the city. it’s just past the boundary of what can be accomplished during a lunch break and i usually prefer to stay out of the city on saturdays.

the catch, because there always is one, was the instructor of this pie class. i’ve never met a more unpleasant or disagreeable person. it’s like he starts out trying to be nice, and then gives up on it, and then realizes he’s been an ass and turns the vaguest hint of niceness back on. he was rude, mean, arrogant and impatient. he treated everyone in the class as if we were his personal assistants, and he couldn’t keep track of the varying instructions he was giving to everyone, so more often than not he gave contradictory instructions and then scolded the unlucky student for the mistake.

but in the end, it was worth it. i now feel comfortable and inspired to try my hand at pie making as the summer goes on.

the chief and the pastry puke

mikey and i had a harmonious afternoon in the kitchen after suffering through six hours of the Bar Mitzvah from Hell (Part 2). the menu, i think, was perfect--mikey did his chicken tikka, some flanksteak with pimenton, a bit of tuna for mona, and a large pile of beets in honor of mom. mom seemed a bit nonplussed to have us take over the kitchen but got over it quickly and spent the afternoon in more comfort on the back deck.

we had an even division of labor. mikey did all the savory bits, and i tackled my agonized-over dessert menu. i wanted to incorporate something out of passion for desserts, specifically the red berry-white chocolate trifle. but i didn’t think my family were the trifle type. fortunately, inspiration arrived in the form of a new book, dedicated entirely to pies and tarts. i really thought i had hit paydirt when i saw a recipe for a shortbread pie crust.

the reason for this perception of salvation is simple: alain ducasse. the spring jules verne menu incorporated a frais du bose shortbread with a strawberry coulis and a rose petal ice cream. only the shortbread tasted like a light lemon sponge-y perfection. when i compared the photograph of the shortbread pie crust with the memory of the parisian shortbread crust, i thought i had found a way to recreate the wonder at home.

the dough was ludicrously simple to make and had a lovely smooth texture as i balled it for chilling--but it was a bear to roll out. i think there is so much butter in the crust, all you have to do is touch it to have the butter start melting. i ended up flattening a disc of it by hand into a sort of oversized cookie and using that as the crust. unfortunately, it tasted like a shortbread cookie instead of a magical cake.

as for the topping, i turned back to passion for desserts and used the red berry-white chocolate mousse as my tart. i’m embarassed to admit that it took me two tries to get the mousse to mousse. i’m not even sure what i did wrong the first time, only that i wasted over an hour trying to salvage it when it only took me 20 minutes to get it right on the second try. it was delightful when i got it right, though. light and airy, a hint of grand marnier, not too much white chocolate and a nice mousse texture. it was heaven with the fresh berries and the strawberry sauce, too.

i think the family were pleased with our efforts. nothing too heavy and a pleasant way to recover from the Bar Mitzvah from Hell (Part 2). what more can you ask for on a gorgeous saturday afternoon in june?

early summer "scoops"--or, diplomacy is overrated

finding myself with a surfeit of diplomat cream was a bit of a dilemma.
for about five whole seconds.

on the advice of several of my fellow daring bakers, i decided to freeze the custard in an ice cream maker. but i couldn’t leave it at that, oh, no, not me. i poured in half a can of cherry pie filling and no, i’m not even a tiny bit ashamed of myself. it must have been the egg whites in the cream that made the texture so silky. the cream itself is very sweet, but fortunately i like that and i’m already plotting profiteroles.

for my next trick, i turned to emily luchetti and drew praise for her passions. what i failed to mention is that something seriously wonky has been going on with my ice cream maker.

both of them.

my first thought was that the addition of alcohol to the custard base lowered the freezing temperature of the ice cream to the point where it was just not going to happen. i arrived at this conclusion having churned the stuff for half an hour in mixer #1 and another 15 minutes in mixer #2. however, my next attempt, which was tonight, had similarly soupy results and like a lightening bolt struck over my head i thought to check the freezer temperature.

bingo! it was set at 1, the highest temperature setting out of 5. that would do it, all right. i adjusted the setting and turned my attention back to the almost ice cream. shrugging my shoulders, i poured it out of mixer #1, into mixer #2, and let it go until the condensation was nearly pouring off the bowl like water out of a tap. fortunately by this point i had a semi-solid cream, so i spooned it into a container and left it to temper in the freezer.

this was especially heartbreaking because this recipe was a total eureka moment, a perfect mesh of inspiration and leftovers. i took a small pile of the chocolate-covered coconut candy chunk cookies i’d made from chocolatechocolate, spooned in a pile of bittersweet chocolate chunks, and attempted to make an adaptation of my chocolate chip cookie ice cream recipe. unfortunately, i totally spaced out even while i was mixing the custard ingredients and added regular milk instead of the coconut milk i’d been saving. plus, i was out of coconut rum.

between this and the mixer fiasco i haven’t even had the heart to taste it yet...

a really fast cake with pears and blueberries

nigel, oh nigel, how is it possible that i’ve left your kitchen diaries to languish on a shelf these past months when you had treasures such as these, waiting to be plundered?

first there was the lamb, seasoned with lemon, mint, salt and pepper and served over a bed of crushed new potatoes to soak up the pan juices. and while i may have undercoked the lamb and overused the lemon juice, the meal was still a revelation. or perhaps a re-awakening?

at any rate, it reminded me of your brilliance, your wit, your perfect recipes.

not to mention that i have discovered my go-to cake. this “really fast” cake, as you call it, took even less time than that--i creamed the butter as i chopped the pears, and poured the halved batter into a miniature springform in light of the fact that i was my only dinner guest. i love the way the blueberries sunk into the batter, becoming tiny blue jewels within the sweet and spongy cake. and while the pear-blueberry combination was divine, i still spent every bite salivating--if it is possible to salivate while you have your mouth full--over the possibilities that await when peaches make their debut.

first dinner party in the new apartment

for once i actually plotted out an ideal menu, easy to prep, easy to serve, light and yet vaguely impressive.

first course: gazpacho with mozzarella en carozza dippers.
main course: gnocchi in a thyme-butter sauce
dessert: ice wine ice cream with strawberry rhubarb compote.

i turned yet again to giada for advice on the gnocchi. every time i make gnocchi, i feel discouraged at first as i re-read the recipe and then slowly empowered as i remember that it’s really not that much work after all. giada, with her microwave shortcut, would horrify a true pasta purist but saving an hour of heating water and boiling potatoes is right up my alley on a saturday that got swallowed by chores and laziness. for the first time, i get a truly lovely gnocchi dough, which is mixing just as my first guests arrive. in spite of this success, i am forced to classify gnocchi as a work in progress, since i still need practice on forming the dumplings properly.

meanwhile, ms. luchetti continues to inspire and amaze with her passion for desserts. i’ve been saving this particular recipe for the arrival of berry season and it was worth the wait and then some. it’s true i’ve been collecting ice cream recipes for nearly two years now, and i do have a few staples: my chocolate chip cookie ice cream, my raspberry linzertorte ice cream, my cannoli ice cream, my cherry fudge ice cream.

i am absolutely going to have to add ice wine ice cream to the list. the only thing i did is tweak the custard base in order to utilize my own super-duper-secret ice cream strategy. (picture me as the busch’s beans guy, only with a really fat cat instead of the talking dog--only me and indy know the secret, and he’s not talking!)

the tartness of the rhubarb, even when mixed with the strawberry, would seem antithetical to the sweetness of ice wine but when the two met it was like i could hear the romeo and juliet theme in the background, they were so well-matched. it probably helped that due to my secret strategy, the ice cream was uncommonly smooth and that due to my friend dino’s overcooking of the rhubarb compote down to rhubarb pie filling, the fruit was more like a sauce than anything else. we ended up slurping every drop out of the dishes and attacking the leftover fruit with a set of spoons.

Ice Wine Ice Cream with Strawberry Rhubarb Compote
(adapted from emily luchetti’s a passion for desserts)

ICE WINE ICE CREAM
I cup sugar
4 1/2 cups heavy (whipping) cream
Pinch of salt
¾ cup ice wine
STRAWBERRY RHUBARB COMPOTE
10 ounces rhubarb, cut into '/2-inch pieces
6 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons water
I pint strawberries, hulled and quartered

TO MAKE THE ICE CREAM: Warm the sugar, cream, and salt in a medium saucepan
over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until bubbles form around the edges, 3 to 5
minutes. Pour the cream in a bowl and cool over an ice bath (see page 28). Stir in
the ice wine. Refrigerate for 4 hours to overnight.

Freeze the cream in an ice cream machine, according to the manufacturer's
instructions.


TO MAKE THE COMPOTE: Cook the rhubarb, 5 tablespoons of the sugar, and the
water in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat, stirring frequently, until the
rhubarb is soft, about 8 minutes. Transfer to a bowl and cool to room temperature.
Stir in the strawberries and the remaining 1 tablespoon sugar. Store at room tem-
perature until ready to serve.


PLANNING AHEAD: The ice cream can be made a couple of days in advance. For
freshness, the strawberry rhubarb compote should be served the day it is made.

wherein i feature my favorite night of the week (yet again)

i spent the entire day planning a picnic dinner (kosher, even!!) for the opening night of the hoboken film festival only to be foiled by the lightest of summer showers as i walked crosstown toward the ferry. i had grand plans for another creation out of giada’s everyday pasta to be followed by a batch of easily portable yet oh-so-delicious vegan cupcakes (out of courtesy for my friend, who observes jewish dietary laws).

sidenote: everyday pasta has been my muse these past few weeks, since it is full of very simple, easily adaptable and completely edible ideas for dinners. i’ve determined to whittle down my summer books to just a few, all light and easy with the occasional weekend challenge thrown in: everyday pasta, my vue, the new spanish table, jamie’s italy, wagamama, the kitchen diaries, the perfect scoop, and both of emily luchetti’s passion books. my main challenges for the summer will be marshmallows, croissants (or danish), and chocolate making. i’m ,signed up for a class at the new school in just a few weeks, in fact.

anyway, by the time i arrived home, soaking wet and just as the rain was stopping, it was clear that there would be no picnic, no movie, and no outing. which was, perhaps, just as well, since i had an overwhelming day spent buried in our bloomberg terminal at work. i turned, as ever, to giada and whipped up a baked pastina with some leftover chicken. giada seems to have a bit of a soft spot for “pastina,” the little baby pasta stars i remember with horror from youthful meals of campbell’s chicken and stars soup, and having utilized them in several of her recipes i begin to see the appeal. they are small, easy to cook and have a nice, tender mouthfeel. the blend wonderfully into the casserole, soaking up the tomato sauce and the spices and forming small galaxies suspended in the mozzarella cheese.

a beautiful bread?

i’ve been waiting for weeks and weeks, putting it off until i moved and then got settled, to start making bread again. having recently acquired a copy of beautiful breads and bountiful fillings, i was eager to inaugurate my metro-area bread making with a loaf of the concord grape bread. this was mainly inspired by the drool-inducing photographs of two sandwiches in the latter half of the book: the garden of eden, wherein ms. skye piles what seems like the contents of an orchard between two slices of concord grape bread and uses nut butter as the glue; and the grilled raspberry jam sauce with potato chip sandwich, which is exactly what it sounds like.

i’m honestly not sure where i went wrong. to the best of my knowledge, i followed the recipe exactly. it has an interesting ingredient list, going beyond the basics of yeast and flour and salt and encompassing such exotic components as boysenberry yogurt and vanilla soy milk. i chose a dry and calm day for the baking. i had a fresh packet of yeast and the proof gave off that delicious yeasty smell as it fed off the honeyed milk.

so why, then, did the bread fail to rise even when i alloted nearly triple the suggested time? i can think of only two reasons: the first is that i originally placed the bowl of dough in a warmed oven. this conceivably could have killed the yeast. the other--and i think perhaps more likely--reason is that i used the wrong kind of yeast. i like to keep a jar of active dry yeast in the fridge. i never have fresh yeast, and ms. skye does not specify her preference.

at any rate, my result was two loaves of rather flat and uninspiring bread. i dutifully sliced and froze them anyway, hoping that appearances would be deceiving and i had come away with a prize. unfortunately. the next day’s lunch (of the raspberry jam sandwich) was as near inedible as you can get and still be on this side of keeping the contents of your stomach from making a repeat appearance.

i admit that i’m discouraged. i had hoped to spend a few weekends now, early in the summer, making loaves of bread to keep handy for workaday lunches. now it seems a distant fantasy, especially with berry season knocking down the door and me with a pile of recipes i’ve been saving for nearly a year begging for my attention...

the tastiest failure ever - gateau st-honore

my life is at last regaining a semblance of normalcy. my boxes are mostly unpacked, the kitchen is clean and well-stocked, i suffered through the week subsisting on a diet of fast and pre-made foods to shore up my strength for this weekend.

why did i need my strength? because this weekend brought upon me the latest challenge from the daring bakers. helene of tartette proposed that we make a gateau st-honore, a traditional french pastry in honor of the patron saint of pastry, st-honore. this was appropriate for my may on just so many levels--to begin with, i recently returned from paris, where i spent many happy hours strolling down the rue st-honore and sampling the various patisserie offerings. (especially the macaroons). secondly, although this jewish girl rarely turns to a saint for help, my pastry offerings continually fall short...

i should say at the outset that this particular offering was no exception to the falling short rule.

the recipe came in three parts: firstly, a puff pastry. secondly, a pate a choux. and thirdly, a diplomat cream--that is to say, a sort of pastry cream but with gelatin. ostensibly this is to help stabilize the cream but i confess i’d rather use cornstarch any day of the week. my diplomat cream, as is typical for my pastry cream efforts, did not quite thicken appropriately. i live in fear of curdled pastry cream. there have been times when, despite all of my practicing (and i practice this a lot) that i had to make a creme anglaise ice cream base three times and STILL failed. but the diplomat cream, even in its unthickened state, had a fantastic lightness of texture and flavor that i’ve never seen in a pastry cream. (i’ve got a large bowl of leftover cream that i am even now plotting what to do with)

here comes confession number two: i used store-bought pastry. i’ve found store-bought pastry to be tasty and easy to work with and i didn’t want to ease back into the kitchen after a month-long absence by trying to wrestle with a laminated puff dough. just the thought of working with that butter block makes me tremble a little bit. of course, having said that, i’ve only just this morning discovered a nigella technique to make puff dough in the food processor, so i expect that one of these days i will try that in order to overcome my fears.

i’ve seen a lot of recipes for gateau st-honore, most delectably photographed in the seven sins of chocolate, but helene was firm in her conviction that we make this a pure offering: no chocolate. this is really where the wheels started falling off the wagon for me.

well, that and the unthickened diplomat cream. after failling to adequately thicken the diplomat cream i turned my attention to the pate a choux. i’ve made a choux before, sort of. i’m not sure that kosher for passover really counts for much. but i was confident in the technique, at least. i got a nice choux which puffed up pretty well only i’m fairly certain that i didn’t let them cook long enough. a sample puff was a bit squishy and bland.

i assembled the gateau as follows: i cut out a circle of the puff, and piped concentric circles of the choux right onto it. i dotted the rest of the parchment paper with choux puffs to use as cream puffs and profiteroles and really just to have extra puffs. these baked while the cream was meant to be thickening, and then i filled the cream puffs with the diplomat cream and set them atop the circle of puff and choux. at this point, i should have carmelized some sugar to use as a bit of glue, but everything was such a shambles by now that i didn’t have the heart to play with fire--or at least to risk setting one in my kitchen from the burned sugar.

i ate the gateau in its naked form, with streams of unthickened cream running across it and filling my mouth as the puffs exploded.
failure never tasted so good.

Gateau Saint Honore:
Components and respective recipes follow:
Puff pastry
Pate a Choux – Cream Puff Dough
Saint Honore Cream
8oz sugar for caramel
1 cup heavy cream + 1 tsp sugar

Pate a Choux – Cream Puffs Dough

4 ¾ oz. all purpose flour (135 gr)
1 cup water ( 240 ml)
2 oz unsalted butter (58 gr)
¼ tsp. salt (1 gr)
1 cup eggs (240 ml)

Sift the flour and set aside.
Heat the water, butter and salt to a full rolling boil, so that the fat is not just floating on the top but is dispersed throughout the liquid.
Stir the flour into the liquid with a heavy wooden spoon, adding it as fast as it can be absorbed. Avoid adding it all at once or it will form clumps.
Cook, stirring constantly and breaking up the lumps if necessary, by pressing them against the side of the pan with the back of the spoon until the mixture comes away from the sides of the pan, about 2-3 minutes.
Transfer the dough to a mixer bowl. Let the paste cool slightly so that the eggs will not cook when they are added. You can add and stir the eggs by hand but it requires some serious elbow grease.
Mix in the eggs, one at a time, using the paddle attachment on low or medium speed. Do not add all the eggs at once. Check after a few, the dough should have the consistency of thick mayonnaise.
Transfer the dough to a piping bag and use as desired.

Pate Feuillete – Puff Pastry:

Makes about 2 1/2 pounds.
3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for work surface (420 gr)
3/4 cup cake flour (105 gr)
1 1/2 teaspoons salt (7 gr)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces, well chilled (60 gr)
1 1/4 cups cold water (295.5 ml)
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour (14 gr)
1 3/4 cups (3 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, well-chilled (405 gr)

1/ Make the dough package: In a large mixing bowl, combine both flours with the salt. Scatter butter pieces over the flour mixture; using your fingers or a pastry cutter, incorporate butter until mixture resembles coarse meal.
2/ Form a well in center of mixture, and pour the water into well. Using your hands, gradually draw flour mixture over the water, covering and gathering until mixture is well blended and begins to come together. Gently knead mixture in the bowl just until it comes together to form a dough, about 15 seconds. Pat dough into a rough ball, and turn out onto a piece of plastic wrap. Wrap tightly, and place in refrigerator to chill 1 hour.
3/ Make the butter package: Sprinkle 1/2 tablespoon flour on a sheet of waxed or parchment paper. Place uncut sticks of butter on top, and sprinkle with remaining 1/2 tablespoon flour. Top with another sheet of paper; using a rolling pin, pound butter to soften and flatten to about 1/2 inch. Remove top sheet of paper, and fold butter package in half onto itself. Replace top sheet of paper, and pound again until butter is about A inch thick. Repeat process two or three times, or until butter becomes quite pliable. Using your hands, shape butter package into a 6-inch square. Wrap well in plastic wrap, and place in refrigerator until it is chilled but not hardened, no more than 10 minutes.
4/ Assemble and roll the dough: Remove dough package from refrigerator, and place on a lightly floured work surface. Using a rolling pin, gently roll dough into a 9-inch round. Remove butter package from refrigerator, and place it in the center of the dough round. Using a paring knife or bench scraper, lightly score the dough to outline the butter square; remove butter, and set it aside. Starting from each side of the center square, gently roll out dough with the rolling pin, forming four flaps, each 4 to 5 inches long; do not touch the raised square in the center of the dough. Replace butter package on the center square. Fold flaps of dough over the butter package so that it is completely enclosed. Press with your hands to seal.
5/ Using the rolling pin, press down on the dough at regular intervals, repeating and covering the entire surface area, until it is about 1 inch thick. Gently roll out the dough into a large rectangle, about 9 by 20 inches, with one of the short sides closest to you. Be careful not to press too hard around the edges, and keep the corners even as you roll out the dough by squaring them with the side of the rolling pin or your hands. Brush off any excess flour. Starting at the near end, fold the rectangle in thirds as you would a business letter; this completes the first single turn.Wrap in plastic wrap; place in refrigerator 45 to 60 minutes.
6/ Remove dough from refrigerator, and repeat process in step 5, giving it five more single turns.Always start with the flap opening on the right as if it were a book. Mark the dough with your knuckle each time you complete a turn to help you keep track. Chill 1 hour between each turn. After the sixth and final turn, wrap dough in plastic wrap; refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight before using.

Saint Honore Cream (Rapid Chiboust or Diplomat Cream)
1 envelope unflavored gelatin (7 gr.)
1/4 cup cold water (60 ml)
1/2 cup + 2 Tablespoons sugar (130 gr)
½ cup all-purpose flour (70 gr)
1/4 teaspoon salt
5 egg yolks
2 cups whole milk (500ml)
1 Tb. rum
¼ cup whipping cream (57 gr)
3 egg whites
dash of salt
1/2 cup sugar (105 gr)

Soak the gelatin in the 1/4 cup of cold water.
Put the sugar, flour, and salt into a saucepan and stir together with a whisk. Add the yolks and enough milk to make a paste. Whisk in the remainder of the milk.
Place over low heat and stirring constantly, cook until thick. Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla and the gelatin. Stir until the gelatin is completely dissolved.
Stir in the whipping cream.Set the mixing bowl in cold water and stir until the cream is cool. Place the egg whites in a clean bowl and using clean beaters, whip them with the dash of salt. As soon as the whites begin to stiffen, gradually add the 1/2 cup of sugar and beat until they are very stiff. Fold the egg whites into the cooled cream.

Caramel:
8 oz sugar (240 gr)

Assembly:

Roll the puff pastry out to 1/8 inch (3 mm) thick, 12 inch square (30 cm). Place on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper. Refrigerate covered at least 20 minutes.
While the puff pastry is resting, make the pate a choux and place it in a pastry bag with a # 4 (8mm) plain tip. Reserve.
Leaving the puff pastry on the sheet pan, cut a 11 inch (27.5 cm) circle from the dough and remove the scraps. (An easy way to cut it is to use a 11inch tart pan as a “cookie cutter”). Prick the circles lightly with a fork.
Pipe 4 concentric rings of Pate a Choux on the pastry circle. Pipe out 12 cream puffs the size of Bing cherries onto the paper around the cake.
Bake the puff pastry circle and the cream puffs at 400F (205C) until the pate a choux has puffed, about 10 minutes. Reduce the heat to 375F (190C) and bake until everything is dry enough to hold its shape, about 35 minutes longer for the cake and 8 minutes longer for the cream puffs (just pick them up and take them out as they are done)
Place about 4 oz (114 gr) of the Saint Honore Cream in a pastry bag with a #2 (4mm) plain tip. Use the pastry bag tip or the tip of a paring knife to make a small hole in the bottom of each cream puff. Pipe the cream into the cream puffs to fill them. Refrigerate.
Spread the remaining cream filling on the cake. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours to set the cream.
Caramelize the 8 oz. of sugar:
Fill a bowl that is large enough to hold the pan used for cooking the sugar with enough cold water to reach halfway up the sides of the pan. Set the bowl aside.
Place the sugar in a heavy bottomed pan and cook until the sugar until it has caramelized to just a shade lighter than the desired color.
Remove from the heat and immediately place the bottom of the pan in the bowl of cold water to stop the cooking process.
Dip the cream puffs into the hot caramel, using 2 forks or tongues to avoid burning your fingers. Place them on a sheet pan. The caramel must be hot enough to go on in a thin layer. Reheat if necessary as you are dipping, stirring constantly to avoid darkening the caramel any more than necessary. Also, avoid any Saint Honore cream to leak out of the puffs and get mixed in with the caramel while dipping as the cream can cause the sugar to recrystallize.
Whip the one cup of heavy cream and teaspoon of sugar to stiff peaks. Place the whipped cream in pastry bag fitted with a #5 (10mm) star tip. Pipe a border of whipped cream around the top of the cake. Arrange the cream puffs, evenly spaced, on top of the filling, next to the cream.

Option: Before filling the cake, take care of the cream puffs, dip them in more caramel, hook them up to the base. Fill with the cream filling and fill the holes with the whipped cream.


please check out helene of tartlette and anita at dessert first for the rest of the DB roundup. most of them, i am pleased to say, had far more success than i did!

a springtime night for light indulgence

in preparation for my attempt this weekend of gateau st-honore, i decided to plan a small menu around it and sieze the opportunity to finally pull my vue out of its exile on the shelf. i first heard about this delightful book on the martha show, when i realized that for all of my pasta, pizza and wagamama books i have no tomes on basic french-inspired cuisine (even if, in this case, it came by way of australia). i liked shannon’s casual approach to his french food when i saw him on the show and i liked him even more as i perused his book for ideas this morning.

i settled on his pea soup creation when i saw the inscription for it: “perfect for a springtime night of light indulgence.” the recipe consisted of a very basic, very simple and very delicious pea soup with no fuss and no muss, to be accompanied by scallops wrapped in pancetta. here’s where i started making changes: i used chicken, because i had it in the fridge and because i don’t eat things that swim, and i also used proscuitto because while i do have pancetta in the fridge it isn’t sliced and i wasn’t feeling up to dealing with my mandoline and making slices.

that took care of the entree. for the hors d’eouvres--and this, i really thought, was inspired--i took a scrap of the leftover puff pastry and the leftover egg whites from my gateau and made a mini quiche lorraine. was it perfect? no. i didn’t pre-bake the puff crust enough. was it delicious? you bet your ass it was.

a triple celebration on a friday night

it’s that most beautiful time of the week again, and a personal favorite of mine: friday night. i’ve written before about my love for this most sacred of days--in pretty much every sense of the word. in the past six months or so, i’ve been making an effort to literally separate the sacred from the profane on the jewish sabbath--not in an orthodox manner, per se, but by setting aside friday night as a night to relax, to rejuvenate, to cook and to enjoy the simple peace of a simple evening.

this friday night in particular was worth celebrating. i:

1. finished my first full week of my new job
2. made it to memorial day weekend, with three glorious days of freedom ahead of me
3. i bought a new apartment, free and clear, all mine, in the chelsea area of new york city.

i floated home as i walked down 44th street, stopping at the chelsea garden center and finding, oh joy, a small pot of thai basil, the one herb i’ve been unable to locate for my new kitchen garden. my office closed at two PM and i took advantage of the afternoon to clean up the apartment, the kitchen, to set up photography projects for the summer, and best of all, scout some seriously delicious tasks to keep me busy all weekend.

i began with a simple and delicious friday evening meal. while snacking on my favorite appetizer of fresh mozzarella and sliced proscuitto, i delved into giada de laurentiis’ new book, everyday pasta, and came up with a perfect springtime dish: lemon cream chicken with penne. since today was the first really hot day of the year, blasting through 90F on the thermometer, the lemon with the light sauce was an ideal way to go. the only thing i did wrong was to get a bit overzealous, as i always do, with the cayenne pepper...



dessert was equally simple and sublime. turning to that old seasonal standby, emily luchetti’s passion for desserts, i pulled out a recipe that had been languishing on my to-do list since last summer: strawberry ginger sodas. now that we’re finally entering strawberry season here in the US (although not here in new york city for another few weeks), i felt secure picking up a quart of berries from the supermarket and bringing them home with me, where i blended them into a puree and mixed them with a can of ginger ale. i topped this off with a few small scoops of orange sherbet (store-bought, but don’t tell anyone) and sipped pure summer heaven through a straw.

back on track with new ideas and inspiration

since the move i haven’t been cooking, except for the night when i burned the quesadilla. i’ve wanted to, but i’m still feeling a bit overwhelmed from all of the packing and unpacking and trying, above all, to be logical and sensible and not squander this blank-slate opportunity to really set things up the way i want them. i’ve had my chocolate-coconut-cookie recipe from chocolatechocolate open on the counter for a week, and that’s even before i left for paris.

fortunately for me, the combination of paris and two donna leon books in a week has renewed my appetite for cooking challenges. i am now determined to renew my efforts and master croissants, crepes, marshmallows and macaroons. probably some madeleines as well.

and in order to keep my head from spinning overmuch, i’m going to emulate the cream puff in venice blog and concentrate on a “flavor of the month”--choose a cookbook and resolve to cook at least once a week out of it until i feel i’ve tried what i want to try. right now i’m leaning toward “everyday pasta” as my first selection. as far as my baking and dessert needs go, my supplementary flavor of the month will be “the perfect scoop” in preparation for summer, perhaps, or at the very least i will finally try that macaroon recipe i stashed away with the blood orange curd.

and of course, the mounds bar cookies.

easing back into it...

so it's now been nearly two weeks since i've last cooked a meal and i've thoroughly proven that cooking is in no way whatsoever like riding a bike...

by burning my quesadilla.

that's right. i burned a quesadilla. and undercooked a couple of sausage links. the only thing that came through was my brown rice and i'm sure i owe that felicity to the rice cooker.

take a deep breath

the boxes have been packed and taken away.
i've driven to my new apartment. i bought a shower curtain!
i had my fete for my co-workers.
i even scrounged up a fresh, last-minute treat for my fellow photographers (king arthur chocolate chip cookies come through EVERY TIME!).

the only thing i didn't get to do was my inaugural challenge for the intrepid daring bakers.
please, show them some support. this month's challenge...was a *challenge*!


and i will hopefully be back with some new pictures and some new cooking adventures and a brand-new, large, open and CLEAN kitchen by the weekend. i can't wait...

for the sake of my sanity

i'm a failure.
i mean, not really. of course not.

but this week i am. i had so much i wanted to accomplish this week! there was going to be soup, and pastry, and brownies, and a delicious and funky dinner party menu.

in its place, all i have are boxes. piles and piles of boxes. and wayward interns at my job. and not enough hours in the day. and a landlord who wants to start showing my partially-packed apartment before i even move out. and dinner guests coming on friday. and ten hours of pounding pavement, apartment searching, with nothing to show for it.

oh, and a cold and allergies.

and so it is with a heavy heart that i announce that no, there will be no strawberry tart with marshmallows. and there will be no dinner party menu for friday. and that i have to bow out of my very first challenge as a proud member of the daring bakers.

for the next several days, i will be counting on vicarious cooking to get me through the pain. my kitchen, it is empty!!

SHF #30, or step 1 in a project i really don't have time for but am going to do anyway

i've made it my mission to provide my fellow photographers in my weekly studio class with a bit of a snack. fine, right? some might even say friendly. and i like to do it, because it gives me an excuse to bake, and plus i end up with no leftovers. it's a win-win-win situation.

except this week, it's more challenging than that. because if i were really being conscientious--that is to say, if i were really being "focused," as my father would tell me--i wouldn't be baking at all, i'd be concentrating on packing for my impending move from our nation's capital to (IMHO) the greatest city on earth, new york. i'd be worrying about getting my boxes and finding all of my kitchen gadgets and emptying out the fridge and packing my clothes and all of those detail things that are really important when you move, like closing your bank account and changing your address and figuring out when to turn off the cable and the electricity.

but no, not me. i'm worried about what to serve my co-workers when they come for dinner on friday and how to use up those extra cashew nuts i found in the pantry and wondering if i can temper ghiradelli chocolate to make cashew bark (no, as it turns out, ghiradelli has too many emulsifiers to temper).

and i'm thinking about what to bring to class on thursday. this week, we're doing tabletop photography, so i want to bring something yummy AND photogenic so that i can work on taking my skills up a few levels and show my creations with a little more pride.

i'd been considering this recipe, from dorie greenspan's paris sweets, for a few weeks. at least, i'd bookmarked it and wondered if i'd ever find an excuse to make it. then, several factors converged and made my attempt inevitable. firstly, SHF 30 was announced as "flower power," which meant that i'd finally have a reason to try baking with some kind of flower water and which, coincidentally, this recipe calls for. secondly, i had a huge bag of potato starch leftover from passover that i don't feel like schlepping between cities. thirdly, i have several random packages of gelatin floating around that i similarly don't care to move. finally, i have this huge bag of frozen strawberries, which i'd purchased with the very healthy intention of making smoothies for breakfast, only to be thwarted by the fact that i can't drink cold things for breakfast when it's still in the 30s or 40s on my walk to work...

and so i present stage one of dorie's french strawberry marshmallow tart, strawberry-orange blossom marshmallows. (soon to be followed by the pie crust, pastry cream and finished product in time for thursday evening's class)

(from dorie greenspan's paris sweets)

Approximately 1 cup (100 grams) potato starch
8 to 10 ripe strawberries (about 3/4 cup; 100 grams), hulled
1 1/4 cups (300 grams) cold water
2 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons sugar
Scant 1/4 cup (75 grams) light corn syrup
4 packets powdered gelatin
6 large egg whites, at room temperature
1 teaspoon orange-flower water

i. Line a 12 x 17-inch (30 x 42.5-cm) baking sheet that has a 1-inch (2.5-cm) rim with parchment paper and dust the paper heavily with potato starch; keep close at hand.

2. Purée the strawberries in a blender (traditional or hand-held) or food processor. You should have a scant 1/2 cup (100 grams); set this aside.

3. Put 2/3 cup (150 grams) of the water, 21/2 cups (500 grams) of the sugar, and
of the corn syrup into a medium saucepan and bring to the boil over medium
heat, stirring just until the sugar dissolves. Once the sugar dissolves, stop stir-
ring and continue to cook the syrup until it reaches 265°F (130°C) on a candy
thermometer, a process that could take about 10 minutes.

4. Meanwhile, sprinkle the gelatin over the remaining 2/3 cup (150 grams) col:
water and let soften for 5 minutes, then heat for 35 to 45 seconds in a microwav:
oven to liquefy (or do this stovetop); set this aside.

5. Put the egg whites in the clean, dry bowl of a mixer fitted with the whisk a:-
tachment and beat on medium-high speed until they form firm, glossy peaks
(Make sure not to overbeat, or the peaks will go dull.)

6. As soon as the sugar syrup has come up to temperature, reduce the mixer spee
to medium and add the syrup, pouring it close to the side of the bowl to avola
the spinning whisk. Using the same technique, add the dissolved gelatin. Beat
for about 3 minutes to fully incorporate the syrup and gelatin.

7. Switch to a large rubber spatula and very gently fold the strawberry purée,
well as the orange-flower water, into the hot batter. Turn the batter out onto the
potato starch-dusted baking sheet and spread it into one of the ends, making
sure it reaches into the corners. Continue spreading the batter, keeping it 1 inch
(2.5 cm) thick: you'll probably have enough batter to make a 12-inch (30-cm)
square. Lift the excess parchment paper up to meet the edge of the marshmal-
low batter and put something against the paper to keep it in place (a couple of
spice jars or custard cups or some dried beans will do the trick). Generously
dust the top of the marshmallow square with potato starch. Allow the marsh-
mallow to cool and set in a cool, dry place, about 3 hours (they can rest
overnight, if that's more convenient for you).

8. When you are ready to serve the marshmallows (or to use them in the tart, in my case), cut the square into lanyards or cubes using a thin-bladed knife or large scissors. In either case, moisten and clean the blade(s) of-
ten. Cut marshmallows should be dusted all over with potato starch and the
excess shaken off.


K E E P IN G Dusted with potato starch, marshmallows will hold up for a week
or more if you pack them in an airtight container and keep them in a cool, dry
place.

a note from puu: i'm honestly not 100% sure that these marshmallows turned out properly. this is the second time i've tried a dorie marshmallow recipe; the first time was a complete disaster. frankly, i've had better luck with lisa yockelson's technique from chocolatechocolate. but i figured that since these are for a tart anyway, not to be eaten plain, then perfection wasn't a prerequisite...

my plot to take over the world

meet graeme.
graeme is a member of my weekly studio photography class.
graeme volunteered to bring his kilt to our portraiture session.
graeme, i am sure, regretted this decision when 10 photographers swarmed around him for an hour, popping flashes and strobes every which way, but graeme was very obliging to his fellow man and played along.

graeme, it turns out, is also a vegan, which means that my labored-over world peace cookies from last week didn't make it onto his dessert menu.

most people, i am sure, would throw their hands up and keep baking. but i, newly-minted member of the daring bakers and compulsive keeper of recipes, saw only opportunity.

yes, opportunity. at last, a tailor-made excuse to play with the vegan cupcake recipe i'd been dilly-dallying over for months, ever since the washington post did a spread about vegan cupcakes take over the world. i'd clipped it, then discarded it, then clipped it again, discarded it, debating between the perceived health benefits of using almost no cholesterol in my baking with the harsh caloric reality of margarine-and-shortening icing. and now there were no obstacles in my path (except a pernicious bout of allergies, and a very fat cat who took one look at my chocolate-covered hands and decided i was ignoring him).

so stocked up on soy milk and earth balance and spent a very miserable wednesday evening--miserable because of the allergies, NOT the baking--discovering the joys of vegan baking.

the batter was so thin it was almost soupy, but it had this nice foamy layer from beating the curdled soy milk. a whopping 1/3 cup of cocoa powder gave it a deep chocolate flavor, and the extra dose of baking soda make everything rise appropriately. the cupcakes were light, fluffy, cakey and delicious. one would never miss the milk, eggs or butter, that's for sure.

and the icing? the icing was a revelation. it was light and whipped and held its texture really well. it had an ideal icing consistency, and the use of confectioners sugar kept everything smooth and creamy. best of all--to me, at least--was that the icing tasted like icing, and not butter. one of my major gripes with cupcakes and cakes and similar confections is that i despise buttercream. all i can ever taste is an overwhelming flavor of butter, and i hate the feel of all that fat on my tongue. but the cookies and cream icing was sweet, creamy, and just a tiny bit crunchy from the bits of chocolate wafer cookies stirred in.

surely world domination will follow!

Cookies 'n' Cream Cupcakes

The Washington Post, November 29, 2006

Related Story

1 dozen

For the cupcakes

• • 1 cup flour
• • 1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (Dutch process or regular)
• • 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
• • 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• • 1/4 teaspoon salt
• • 1 cup soy milk
• • 1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
• • 3/4 cup sugar
• • 1/3 cup canola oil
• • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• • 1/2 teaspoon almond extract, chocolate extract or more vanilla extract
• • 10 vegan chocolate cream-filled sandwich cookies, such as Newman-O's, coarsely chopped

For the frosting

• • 1/2 cup nonhydrogenated shortening
• • 1/2 cup nonhydrogenated margarine, such as Earth Balance
• • 3 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar, sifted if clumpy
• • 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• • 1/4 cup plain soy milk or soy creamer
• • 5 vegan chocolate cream-filled sandwich cookies, such as Newman-O's, finely mashed, plus 6 of the cookies, cut in half, for garnish

Directions:

For the cupcakes: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line 12 muffin cups with paper or aluminum foil liners.

In a medium bowl or on a large square of waxed paper, sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the soy milk and vinegar; set aside for a few minutes to curdle. Add the sugar, oil and vanilla extract and other extract, if using, and beat until foamy. Add the dry ingredients in 2 increments, and beat until no large lumps remain (a few small lumps are okay). Add the chopped cookies to the batter, stirring just to combine. Spoon the batter into the liner cups, filling them three-quarters full. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

While the cupcakes are cooling, make the frosting: In the bowl of a stand mixer or in a large bowl using a hand mixer, beat the shortening and margarine on medium-high speed for about 5 minutes, until well combined and fluffy. Reduce speed to low to add the sugar until incorporated, and then increase to medium-high speed to beat for about 3 minutes. Add the vanilla extract and soy milk or creamer; beat on the same speed for 5 to 7 minutes, until fluffy. Add the cookie crumbs, mixing well.

To assemble: Frost the cupcakes generously and top each cupcake with half of a sandwich cookie by inserting the cut end into the frosting. Store in a sealed container for up to 3 days.

Recipe Source:

Adapted from "Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World," by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero (Marlowe & Co., 2006).

risotto #10 - comfort me with apples

ok, seriously, WHAT IS GOING ON WITH THE WEATHER?!
first it's all springy and gorgeous.
then the cherry blossoms are pulverized by frost, my parents have a foot of snow, and half of new jersey, it seems, has to be evacuated because of flooding.

then the wind starts blowing like a freaking hurricane, rattling the windows and terrifying my cat, and i was stubborn enough to wear a skirt to work anyway.

definitely the sort of monday that deserves warm, simple and delicious comforting foods. for lunch i made a toasted baguette with fresh mozzarella and pancetta crumbs, with a mug full of my sweet potato soup for extra warmth.

and i already knew what to have for dessert, since i had nearly a full loaf of chocolate chip brioche beckoning me from the kitchen table--bread pudding, obviously. and possibly some hot chocolate.

it was dinner that was causing me vexation. i thought if i had some nice beef, thai basil and some bird chiles i could whip up the warmest and tastiest stir fry i know, stolen from a cooking teacher at l'academie de cuisine in bethesda, maryland. but alas, i had none of those things.

i thought i could bake up some pitas and do a nigel-slater-style lamb-filled flatbread, but a quick recipe search of king arthur flour suggested that i would be better off making a sponge before work and baking it when i got home than starting from scratch at the late hour of 7.00pm.

finally, stuck in a late-afternoon daydream, i happened upon this recipe for apple risotto from kitchen unplugged. and suddenly i remembered that this apple risotto has been on my list of risottos to try for nearly a month, put on hold only because of the interference of passover and the cruelties of the calendar. my enthusiasm began to grow--until i remembered that i had no apples and no chicken stock at home. i tried to console myself with another kind of risotto, maybe a mushroom risotto (i did have mushroom stock and a pile of porcini), and remind myself that i've sworn off grocery shopping until i move.

no good. there was nothing for it but to stop at the grocery store on the way home and procure apples, stock, shallots and cheese.

at least it was a quick trip.

i came home and assembled my ingredients before me, but it didn't seem quite savory or comforting enough. i needed warmth of a more rib-sticking variety but still complementary to my planned dessert of bread pudding. my eyes fell upon the chicken breast leftover from sunday's chicken and miso soup. and the half-knob of young, sharp gouda. and suddenly i remembered a recipe from the new spanish table which used gouda instead of parmesan in risotto while my tongue reminded me of how incredibly good the apple-gouda combination tastes.

my path, at last, was set. i poached the chicken in a pot of slightly salty water for about 20 minutes while i prepped the risotto components and poured it all, you guessed it, right into my rice cooker. i shaved a solid 1/4 cup of risotto using my new and most miraculous microplane grater and smelled the sweet smell of browned shallots in the kitchen air.

confession time: the cheese melted most wonderfully and made up for the fact that i slightly overcooked the chicken. but the end result, as delightful as it was--and trust me, it really was delightful--could have used a little more zest.

puu's "comfort me with apples" risotto
(inspired by kitchen unplugged's apple risotto, williams-sonoma's poached chicken and carmelized onion risotto, and the new spanish table's gouda risotto and prepared according to beth hensperger's rice cooker technique)

1/2 cup arborio risotto rice
2 cups low-sodium chicken stock
1 shallot, finely diced
2 T olive oil
1 small apple, diced
2 T heavy cream
1/4 cup grated gouda cheese
2 T butter
1 chicken breast, poached and diced

coat the apples with the heavy cream. set aside.
turn the rice cooker on.

coat the rice cooker bowl with oil and brown the shallots, about 3 minutes. add the rice and saute until each grain is nearly translucent, with a white dot in the center. add white wine, if desired (i didn't) and pour in the stock, resetting the rice cooker for the porridge cycle. about half to two-thirds of the way through the porridge cycle, pour in the apples and cream and let the cycle finish. add the chicken and let it rewarm while the rice relaxes. stir in the butter, gouda, and salt or pepper to taste.

puu's WTSIM...Bread brioche cherry pudding
(adapted from the buttercup bakery cookbook)

2 cups of brioche chunks
2 cups fresh cherries, pitted
1 cup heavy cream
1 cup milk
2 eggs, lightly beaten
sugar to taste
chocolate chips for topping (optional)

preheat the oven to 350.

mix the sugar into the eggs. scald the milk and cream together and temper with the egg-sugar mixture before pouring it all over the bread crumbs (which you have hopefully placed in a 2-quart casserole dish, otherwise there will now be a huge mess of crumbs and eggy liquid all over your kitchen counter). add cherries and chocolate chips and mix it all together so that the cherries and chocolate are evenly distributed.

bake for 45-50 minutes, or until done.

long live the unhealthy snack club

we're an office of snackers here on capitol hill. all day, all the time, someone in our office is toasting a waffle or some bread or muching on a hot dog for breakfast or a veggie burger for lunch or hoarding little bits of the random free stuff--candy, fruit, cupcakes, chips, and even beef jerky this one time--that makes its way through our office.

until one brave woman and several of her co-workers decided to fight back with the "healthy snack club." the purpose of this club was split amongst its members the duty of spending no more than $20 in a given week to bring in fresh, healthy snackables. apples, cheese, wheat things, granola, whatever, so long as it was relatively inexpensive and more healthy than the pile of ghiradelli truffles we got a few months ago, and didn't smell like the chicken fingers from the cafeteria.

and then i stepped up to the plate. i refused to join the healthy snack club, even though i'm as dedicated a snacker as they come. no, i had to take a stand! fight the power!
(or something)

so for almost two years now i've been counterbalancing the healthy snack club with the leftovers from my baking binges. usually this means cookies, but on occasion it has included cakes and cupcakes and goodness knows what else. in this most recent instance, it was brownies.

i knew last weekend that i wanted to go home on friday and relax. and even though i had a last-minute late dinner reservation to enjoy, i still determined to use a sliver of my friday to relax, bake, and fortify myself for the crazy weekend that was coming my way. i'm not really sure how the bee got into my bonnet to make brownies, exactly, except that it was in honor of a friend who always brings her fresh brownies and cookies to our office and whom i was going to meet for dinner. (naturally, the brownies weren't ready, cooled or set before i had to leave for kinkead's, but somehow i didn't let that stop me from baking away.) maybe it was the excellent new york times article from last week, all about brownies (for the record, i prefer mine on the cakey side, so none of those particular recipes especially appealed to me). at any rate, i came home on friday and spent a rapturous hour with dorie, using up all of the chocolate i could find in order to have a batch of her quintuple chocolate brownies.

and oh. my. goodness. what a result! i take it back about the cakey brownies, i swear! these were decadent and fudgy with a hint of cake and a slight taste of all five kinds of chocolate. i'll say it again--five kinds of chocolate. office reaction at first, i admit, was skepticism (probably because it was before breakfast) but as the day wore on i realized that if i were to taste my own creation i'd have to do a little hoarding of my own, because they were gone long before i packed up and headed out at 6pm.

quintuple chocolate brownies
(dorie greenspan, as published on NPR.com, from baking: from my home to yours)

Makes 16 brownies

For the Brownies

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 stick (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces

3 ounces unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped

3 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped

2 tablespoons strong coffee

1 cup sugar

3 large eggs

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

6 ounces premium-quality milk chocolate, chopped into chips, or 1 cup store-bought milk chocolate chips

1 cup chopped nuts

For the Glaze

6 ounces premium-quality white chocolate, finely chopped, or 1 cup store-bought white chocolate chips

1/3 cup heavy cream

GETTING READY: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.

Line a 9-inch square baking pan with foil, butter the foil and place the pan on a baking sheet.

Sift together the flour, cocoa and salt.

TO MAKE THE BROWNIES: Set a heatproof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water and add, in the following order, the butter, the two chocolates and the coffee. Keeping the pan over low heat, warm just until the butter and chocolates are melted — you don't want the ingredients to get so hot they separate, so keep an eye on the bowl. Stir gently, and when the mixture is smooth, set it aside for 5 minutes.

Using a whisk or a rubber spatula, beat the sugar into the chocolate mixture. Don't beat too vigorously — you don't want to add air to the batter — and don't be concerned about any graininess. Next, stir in the eggs one at time, followed by the vanilla. You should have a smooth, glossy batter. If you're not already using a rubber spatula, switch to one now and gently stir in the dry ingredients, mixing only until they are incorporated. Finally, stir in the milk chocolate chips and the nuts. Scrape the batter into the pan.

Bake for about 35 minutes, or until a thin knife inserted into the center comes out streaked but not thickly coated. Transfer the pan to a cooling rack and let the brownies rest undisturbed for at least 30 minutes. (You can wait longer, if you'd like.)

Turn the brownies out onto a rack, peel away the foil and place it under another rack — it will be the drip catcher for the glaze. Invert the brownies onto the rack and let cool completely.

TO MAKE THE GLAZE: Put the white chocolate in a heatproof bowl. Bring the heavy cream to a boil and pour it over the chocolate. Wait 30 seconds, then, using a rubber spatula, gently stir until the chocolate is melted and the glaze is smooth.

Hold a long metal icing spatula in one hand and the bowl of glaze in the other. Pour the glaze onto the center of the brownies and use the spatula to nudge it evenly over the surface. Don't worry if it dribbles over the edges, you can trim the sides later (or not). Refrigerate the brownies for about 20 minutes to dry the glaze.

Cut into 16 squares, each roughly 2 1/4 inches on a side.

SERVING: Serve straight up — whipped cream or ice cream is unnecessary with these. Well, a little ice cream is nice — why not?

STORING: The brownies can be put back in their baking pan, wrapped (without touching the glaze) and kept at room temperature for about 3 days or frozen — glaze and all — for up to 2 months.

i'm thrilled to report that this will also serve as my entry to the first ever browniebabe of the month blog event! hurrah for brownies! and babes, i suppose, who like to cook brownies (like me!!), because really, what's hotter than a girl with chocolate?! that's right...nothing, and you know it.