Showing posts with label citrus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label citrus. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 03, 2011

TWD: Chocolate-Orange Marbled Loaf Cake

Ahhh it feels good to be back in the warm embrace of Tuesdays with Dorie. I've taken more than a few weeks off lately, and although it was necessary, it's so nice to be back in a routine, blogging with some of my favorite people!


Fun fact: this week's recipe, a Marbled Loaf Cake, looks an awful lot like my first TWD post ever, for Black & White Banana Loaf! I remember that bread being a-mazing, although I do think the pictures have improved around here since then...

I flavored half of the batter chocolate, and added orange oil and orange zest to the other half, to make a subtly scented orange-chocolate loaf. Haters gonna hate, but I'll always love the orange-chocolate combo.

I had too much batter for my loaf pan, so with the extra I made the sweetest little 3" mini loaf. It was actually better than the full-sized one (didn't get as brown and crusty on top) and I wish I'd baked all mini loaves. The tiny tin is from Sur la Table.

This is a soft, fine-crumbed cake that seems perfect for afternoon tea, or a light dessert with maybe a touch of lightly whipped cream and some berries on top. You can find the recipe at Carol's blog, The Bake More.

Thanks also for the well-wishes about my big race last weekend! It was kind of epic. There were high highs and low lows, but overall it was wonderful and I finished feeling great, even though I couldn't stomach all of the chia I'd packed. By the end, I just wanted brownies and Coke. (Which, PS, is a very bad combination. Learn from my mistakes.)


Read More...

Monday, March 14, 2011

TWD: Citrus Cranberry Sunshine Muffins

Citrus sunshine muffins, you say? I've got your sunshine right here:



Well, okay, that's not so impressive. But you have to believe me that it's been very sunny and downright hot here the past few days! The perfect weather to pair with these bright and cheery muffins:

I am permanently done with currants since my stint living in England, land o' the currants and custard, so I substituted cranberries in their stead. I used the zest of two oranges and a lemon and although I thought for sure it would result in overwhelming zestiness and general awesomeness, the citrus flavor was still not bold enough for me! Next time I'm chucking in a whole grapefruit and that'll be the end of it.

I also thought these muffins could use some sexy accessorizing--maybe a little drizzle here, or a streusel topping there? Nothing crazy, but a little something to perk them up. As they were, their flat top and coarse crumb will never get them asked to the homecoming dance. But add a little lippy, lose the glasses, and bam--I've just improved these muffins and told you the plot to She's All That in one short paragraph.

One last thing--I just have to point out that cute bowl holding the muffins. You can't see it very well in most of the pics, but it's actually a bunny bowl! They were a graduation gift from my aunt, and I think they're just the cutest thing since post-makeover Rachel Leigh Cook in She's All That. Unfortunately they fall into the category of "so lovely I'm afraid to use them every day so I'll put them somewhere safe" so they don't get used as much as I'd like. Until now. Ta-daaa.

Want the recipe? Head over to Lauryn's blog, Bella Baker, to get it--she also has a $40 CSN giveaway going on right now, if free stuff is your thing. No word on whether CSN stocks bunny bowls.

Read More...

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Pink Grapefruit Cake


Hey, remember that time I had all those oranges and grapefruits, and begged for citrus recipes? You guys had some awesome ideas, and I dutifully bookmarked them and printed them and planned on a whopper of a Citrus Month...and then ate almost all of the fruit raw. Grapefruit for breakfast, sometimes two or three oranges per lunch--they were just that good. So unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) very few of the citrus fruits actually made it into baked goods.

But! I was able to save a few from my ravenous lunch-belly and make a few goodies, like this Pink Grapefruit Cake. I've actually been intending to bake this for over a year now, ever since I first saw it on Two Peas and Their Pod. I'm no stranger to baking with oranges or lemons, but pink grapefruit...now that sounded intriguing!


This cake recipe uses grapefruit zest in the batter, and grapefruit juice in a soaking syrup and glaze, so it's full of tart citrus flavor. It also has plenty of greek yogurt to keep it moist and add a little extra tang.

It turned out to be a quiet, sweet little thing--not a showy birthday cake, but perfect for an afternoon pick-me-up next to a glass of tea. And, if you happen to nibble on it for breakfast one morning, you won't even feel too guilty--it's just that light and tart and refreshing.





Pink Grapefruit Yogurt Cake
from Two Peas and Their Pod

3/4 cup plain Greek yogurt
1 cup granulated sugar
Zest of 1 1/2 pink grapefruits
3 large eggs
1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/3 cup canola oil

Grapefruit Syrup
[I doubled this amount]
1/4 cup freshly squeezed grapefruit juice
2 T granulated sugar

Grapefruit Glaze
[doubled this and I added about 1/2 tsp of citric acid to make it more tart]
1/3 cup powdered sugar
2-3 T freshly squeezed grapefruit juice

Preheat the oven to 350F. Spray a 9-inch round cake pan with cooking spray. Dust lightly with flour too. Set pan aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

In a small bowl, add the grapefruit zest to the sugar. Rub together with your fingers until fragrant. In a large bowl, mix together the yogurt, sugar, and zest with large spoon or spatula. Whisk in the eggs-you can do all three at once. Mix until smooth and then add in the vanilla and stir again.

Add the flour mixture to the wet ingredients. Mix just until flour is incorporated.

Add the oil and mix well. It might take a minute to get the oil mixed in, but it will.

Pour the batter into your prepared cake pan. Bake for 25-30 minutes, until your cake tester comes out clean and the cake springs back when lightly touched in the center.

Cool on a cooling rack for about 15 minutes and then remove from the pan. While the cake is cooling make the syrup and glaze.

For the syrup, in a small sauce pan add the grapefruit juice and sugar. Whisk over medium heat until the sugar dissolves.

For the glaze, in a medium bowl, whisk together the powdered sugar and grapefruit juice. If it is too thick, add more juice, if it is too runny, add more sugar.

Poke little holes into the cake with a toothpick. Spoon the grapefruit syrup over the cake and let it soak in. Let the cake cool to room temperature and then add the glaze. Drizzle over the top of the cake.

Read More...

Friday, January 28, 2011

Lemon-Mascarpone Layer Cake with Edible Flowers

Over Christmas break I stopped by to see my old high school friend Claire. As I was leaving, she offered me lemons from her overflowing tree. My first instinct was to decline, since I was staying with my parents and had no interest in shlepping random lemons back home with me in my already-overstuffed car. Plus, I had chocolate buche de noel on the brain, not lemons.


However, once I saw that her tree was full of Meyer lemons, I did a ten-point vault over her head and raced to the tree, yelling at her to dust herself off and bring the biggest cardboard box she could find. As a result of my wanton selfishness, I ended up with a generous supply of this awesome fruit.

Most folks are probably familiar with Meyer lemons, but if you're not, here's a handy visual comparison:

The usual lemon suspect, the Eureka lemon, is on the left. It's a light yellow color, with a thick rind and a sour citrus flavor. The Meyer lemon is on the right. They're usually rounder than the traditional lemon, with a yellowy-orange color, a thin rind, and a perfumey, almost floral fragrance. Wikipedia tells me it's thought to be a cross between a lemon and an orange, which makes sense, since it's juice is sweeter and more complex than the usual super-tart lemon juice.

But enough lemonology. The question is, what did I do with them? Well, Claire handed me Meyer lemons, and I made Lemon Mascarpone Layer Cake:
Two of my good friends had birthdays this month, so a group of us got together for a girl's night out to celebrate them. We could have had desserts at the restaurant, but there's something special and personal about a homemade birthday cake, and I wanted them to feel the love, so I arranged with the restaurant to bring our own cake.
The cake I chose was from The Art and Soul of Baking, a beautiful cookbook given to me by another friend. A basic genoise cake is brushed with lemon syrup and layered with lemon curd and a lemon-mascarpone-whipped cream mixture. The result is a light, pillowy cake that is almost like a trifle, it's so creamy and moist. If I had any criticism it's that the lemon flavor and lemon curd layers could have been heavier, so in the instructions below I've changed the quantities to suit my tastes.
But what really makes this cake special are the flower decorations, and that part couldn't be easier. Here, I've written all the steps out for you:

1. Go to Whole Foods or another upscale grocery store
2. Buy organic "Edible Flowers"--they're usually in the prepackaged herb section
3. Put edible flowers on cake
4. Bask in warm glow of compliments and adoration

Edible flowers are stunningly beautiful, and require absolutely no work or skill to decorate with. I really can't recommend them enough. In answer to the inevitable question "But what do they taste like?" the answer is pretty much...nothing. They have a slight green taste, sort of like a lettuce leaf, but in general it's like a whole mouthful of nuthin'. Because the cake was heavily loaded with flowers, we ate some but ended up leaving some on our plates. I think of them like fondant--a beautiful decorating touch but not necessarily meant to be consumed with the cake.

And here's the secret to getting a birthday plaque to stay at an angle: lots and lots and lots of whipped cream! It's a very lucky birthday girl indeed who got that piece of cake.

Read on for the full recipe, and don't be intimidated by all the steps! It can easily be modified by using your favorite sponge (or box) cake, store-bought lemon curd, and simple whipped cream instead of the whipped cream-mascarpone mix.



Lemon Mascarpone Layer Cake

adapted from The Art and Soul of Baking by Cindy Mushet

For the cake
[you can subsitute any light sponge cake you like in this recipe]
6 large eggs, separated
6 oz (14 tbsp) sugar, divided use
6 oz (1.75 cups) sifted cake flour
Zest of one lemon

Preheat the oven to 375 F. Line two 9" cake pans with parchment paper, but do not grease them in any way.

Whip the egg yolks with half of the sugar (3 oz, or 7 tbsp) in the bowl of a large stand mixer on high speed for 5 minutes, until they are very thick and light in color. Transfer the yolks to a separate bowl and wash the mixing bowl and whisk very well.

Whip the egg whites in the cleaned mixing bowl until soft peaks form. Gradually add the remaining 3 oz/7 tbsp sugar a spoonful at a time, while mixing on high speed, until the egg whites hold firm peaks.

Fold one-third of the egg whites into the yolks with a spatula, then sift half of the cake flour on top and gently fold it in. Fold a second third of the egg whites into the yolks, sift the remaining cake flour on top, then fold that in. Finally, add the last of the egg whites, and when they're almost incorporated, add the lemon zest and fold until everything is mixed together.

Divide the batter between the two pans and bake for 18-22 minutes, until the tops are golden, firm, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Transfer the cakes to a rack to cool completely.

For the lemon syrup
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup fresh-squeezed lemon juice

Heat the sugar and water in a small saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until the sugar dissolves and the liquid is clear. Remove from the heat and stir in the lemon juice. Allow to cool completely before use.


For the lemon curd

5 large eggs
5 egg yolks
1.5 cups sugar
1 cup + 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice
9 tbsp (4.5 oz) cold unsalted butter, cubed

Fill the bottom of a double-boiler with 2 inches of water and bring it to a simmer.

Place the eggs, yolks, and sugar in the top of the double boiler (off the heat) and whisk until blended. Add the lemon juice and mix well. j

Place the egg mixture over the simmering water and cook, whisking constantly, until the curd reaches 180 F on a candy thermometer. (If you don't have a thermometer, it should thicken enough to coat the back of a spoon.) Don't let the curd boil, or you'll have bits of scrambled egg in your curd.

Once cooked, strain the curd through a metal strainer into a bowl. Add the cold butter pieces to the curd, and whisk gently until the butter melts and the mixture is velvety-smooth. Press a layer of cling wrap on top of the curd and refrigerate it until it is cool, at least 3-4 hours or overnight.


For the mascarpone filling

2.5 cups (20 oz) heavy whipping cream
3 oz (7 tbsp) granulated sugar
1 lb mascarpone, I suggest making your own if you have time--it's much better and cheaper

Place the cream and sugar in the large bowl of a stand mixer and whisk until they form firm peaks, but do not over-beat or it will become grainy and curdled.

In a large bowl, combine the mascarpone and 1-1/2 cups of lemon curd, and stir until they're well-mixed. It should be the consistency of pudding. Gently fold the whipped cream into the mascarpone mixture, being careful not to overmix, or the mascarpone will look grainy and separated. If this happens, stir in a spoonful or two of heavy cream to smooth it out.


To assemble the cake


Unmold the cakes, and use a sharp serrated knife to cut each one in half, so you're left with four thin cake rounds. Place one round on a cake cardboard and brush it with a quarter of the lemon syrup.

Spoon about 1/3 cup of the mascarpone filling on top of the cake round, and use a spatula to spread it evenly around. Top the mascarpone with about 1/3 cup of lemon curd, and spread it in a thin layer.

Place another cake round on top of the first, and brush this one with an equal amount of lemon syrup. Repeat the layer of cake rounds, lemon syrup, mascarpone, and lemon curd until you have added the final cake round to the top of the cake. Brush the top with the remaining lemon syrup.

Spread the remaining mascarpone mixture along the top and sides of the cake. If you have lemon curd left over, you can pipe dots of lemon curd along the top of bottom border of the cake (or you can just save it to eat on toast and oatmeal!)

This cake is best made a few hours--or even a day or two--in advance, so the flavors and textures have a chance to meld.

Read More...

Monday, January 17, 2011

TWD: Lemon Poppyseed Muffins

Hello, little blog. It's been awhile. You've probably missed me, since the last post was about New Year's Eve and it's now the middle of January. You've been sitting around feeling unfashionably behind the times. I'm sorry.

I haven't missed you too much, since I've been doing lots of traveling and LOTS of dessert eating. Don't be jealous, it was all in the name of blog research, and I'll have some fun pastry posts up shortly.

But in the meantime, let's spruce you up with some new content! Will muffins suffice?


I made these lemon poppyseed muffins a few weeks ago over--not to bring up a sore subject--New Year's Eve. My brother and sister-in-law were in town visiting, hooray!


But we were all sick and feeling pretty lousy after NYE, boooo!


The day after New Year's, we literally sat around the apartment all day. We had fuzzy heads and stuffy noses and scratchy throats and lazy bones. It was gray and rainy outside. We took lots of naps. Time seemed to drag on, and we couldn't quite find anything to keep us properly entertained.

It was a weird day, in the way that sick days often are.


We had also overdosed on too much junk food over the holidays and were feeling the need for nutritional atonement. For brunch that day, I sliced up every fruit in the house and threw it in a big bowl with a hefty squeeze of orange juice over it. I scrambled some eggs, set out the tangerine juice, and served these lemon poppyseed muffins, warm from the oven.

Okay, so maybe muffins aren't the most virtuous of breakfast foods, but in comparison to everything we'd been eating the week before, they're practically a vegetable.

But what really matters is the taste. These muffins were like liquid sunshine, bright and tart, with a little earthy crunch from the poppyseeds. The sour cream kept them moist and cakey, but the high baking temperature gave the tops that sugary crust that I so love.

They may not have come in a bottle from the drugstore, but these light and lemony muffins were all the medicine we needed that day.

Read More...

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Tarts Worth Writing About

I've had a few summer posts lurking around waiting to be completed, and now that it's October the time for fresh berry desserts has almost passed! Quickly, quickly now...

It all started with a new kitchen in a new apartment in a new city. Or rather...

A sweet pistachio tart crust in a new kitchen in a new apartment in a new city.

A light and luscious lemon cream in a sweet pistachio tart crust in a new kitchen in a new apartment in a new city.

Soft, ripe berries on a light and luscious lemon cream in a sweet pistachio tart crust in a new kitchen in a new apartment in a new city.


And best of all, some good friends to help us eat the soft, ripe berries on a light and luscious lemon cream in a sweet pistachio tart crust in a new kitchen in a new apartment in a new city!


When we had our housewarming party a month (...or two...) ago I made these cute mini tarts to celebrate. At the time, they fit the season perfectly: light, fresh, vibrant as the summer sunshine. Now it's a bit harder to find good berries at the market, but the tart dough and cream can still be made, and they could be topped with candied citrus peel, pomegranate seeds, or caramelized nuts.


Honestly, making these in mini muffin tins is a pain. The dough goes from rock-hard to super-soft in a matter of minutes, so it's a constant race between the table, the fridge, and the freezer. They have to be gently rolled and cut and pressed and trimmed and chilled and baked and then ever so gently coaxed out of the tins without shattering--my personal obstacle--and if you're like me and you only have two tins, you're ensnared in this process all morning and wondering what the heck is wrong with a full-sized tart anyways?

But really, I didn't mind. No, really. Because these tarts were about more than taking a good picture or having a cute centerpiece. The time I spent making these, rolling and scraping and pressing and nibbling on dough, in my pjs with flour in my hair, I had a heart full of gratitude. For our new apartment, for our old friends, for the luxury of time to make the tarts--to spend hours on stupid miniature crusts!--and for the money to buy fresh berries. I kept thinking how lucky I was, in this life.

It was all connected. And it turned what could have been a chore--what, too often, IS a chore in my overscheduled head--into an exercise in seeing the beauty and blessings in the world. And that is why these tarts are worth writing about, no matter what season it is.




Sweet Pistachio Tart Dough


1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup ground pistachios (I like roasted & salted)
3/4 cup confectioners' sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
6.75 oz very cold butter, cubed
1 large egg yolk

Put the flour, ground nuts, confectioners' sugar and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse a couple of times to combine. Add the butter and pulse until the butter is cut in coarsely. Add the egg yolk and process in long pulses - about 10 seconds each - until the dough just starts forming clumps. Just before your reaches this clumpy stage, the sound of the machine working the dough will change. Wrap the dough in cling wrap and refrigerate until firm, about 2 hours.


Luscious Lemon Cream

Adapted from Dorie Greenspan's "Most Extraordinary Lemon Cream Tart"

1 cup sugar
zest of 3 lemons
4 large eggs
3/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 sticks (8 oz) unsalted butter, at room temperature

Put the sugar and zest in a double boiler or a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water. Off the heat, rub the sugar and zest together between your fingers until the sugar is moist, grainy, and very aromatic. Whisk in the eggs, followed by the lemon juice.

Set the bowl over the pan and start stirring with the whisk. Cook the lemon cream until it reaches 180 degrees F. Whisk constantly until it's thick, opaque, and the whisk leaves tracks. This might take 10-15 minutes to get to 180 F.

As soon as it reaches 180F, remove the cream from the heat and strain it into the container of a blender. Let the cream stand, stirring occasionally, until it cools to 140 degrees F, about 10 minutes.

Turn the blender to high and, with the machine going, add the butter a few chunks at a time. Scrape down the sides of the container as needed as you incorporate the butter. Once the butter is in, keep the machine going for 3 minutes. Although it will look blended before then, this extended whipping will give it a light, mousse-like texture.

Pour the cream into a container, press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface to create an airtight seal and refrigerate at least 4 hours, or overnight. When you are ready to assemble the tart, just whisk the cream to loosen it and spoon it into the tart shell.

To assemble the tarts

Spray mini muffin tins with nonstick cooking spray and preheat the oven to 350 F. Dust a work station with flour and divide the tart dough in thirds. Keep two-thirds of it in the fridge and work with one third at a time. Roll it out very thinly on a floured surface with a floured rolling pin. Since we are making mini tarts the crust should be delicate and thin so it doesn't overwhelm the filling.

Use a large circular cutter to cut circles of tart dough--mine were about 3" wide. Gently lift the circles from the table and, one at a time, press them into the mini muffin cavities. Use a sharp knife or an offset spatula to trim the top and get a fairly smooth edge--it won't be perfect, but after they're baked they'll look fine. Freeze the first mini muffin tray while you form the second. If your dough gets too soft to work with, re-roll it and put it back in the freezer while you work with one of the chilled rounds in the fridge.

Once one of the muffin tins in the freezer is frozen, bake off the shells until they're light brown, about 10-12 minutes, rotating halfway throughout. Let them cool in the tins before attempting to remove, then gently slide them out and let them cool completely.

Fill with lemon cream (I found a pastry bag was easiest for this purpose) and top with season fruit or nuts.

Read More...

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

A Tale of Two Tarts

Lately I've been making a lot of Monets.

No, I haven't taken up impressionist painting. I mean "Monets" in the Clueless sense of the word. Desserts that look amazing, but upon closer inspection--or tasting--leave something to be desired. This is tragic for a number of reasons--wasted hours and ingredients, for instance--but the biggest disappointment is that I'm left with pictures that I love, and a lackluster recipe to go with it. I couldn't possibly post the duds, right?

But then I thought, wait. Why should delicious desserts have all the fun? Shouldn't there be a place in our blogging world for the runners-up, the wannabes, the mediocre Monets? Of course!

I present A Tale of Two Tarts.

First up: Fresh Fig Tart with Rosemary Cornmeal Crust and Lemon Mascarpone Cream

As Dickens so eloquently wrote, it was the best of tarts, it was the worst of tarts. It was the tastiest of toppings, it was the grossest of crusts and fillings. A true literary and culinary genius, that Chuck Dickens.


I was gifted with a bounty of fresh figs, and after eating about a pound of them straight from the bag, decided to turn them into a tart. I don't always love the pulpy texture of cooked figs, so I decided to make a tart that used fresh figs instead. This recipe seemed perfect. The unique crust recipe called for fresh rosemary and cornmeal, and the filling was a mix of mascarpone cream, sour cream, and lemon zest. Fresh figs were sliced on top and finished with a light glaze.


I don't want to totally pan this recipe because I think it has potential. The crust was way too savory for me. I felt like I should scrape out the cream and serve it with chili. I think the idea of adding rosemary is good, but next time I would add some chopped rosemary to a traditional pate sucree recipe, to get the flavor without sacrificing a tender pastry. The cream was also a problem. I used homemade mascarpone, which was a bit stiffer than store-bought, so I had to work it to loosen it and it ended up breaking. Completely my fault, but it still wasn't so appetizing to have curdled cream inside a taco shell-esque crust, topped by fresh figs. Uh, yum?

Tart the second: David Lebovitz's Chez Panisse Almond Tart


My very first pastry job was at a bakery where we made a very similar almond tart, so I had all sorts of warm snuggly nostalgic feelings as I was making this tart. There's something comforting about the simplicity of a buttery crust, crunchy almonds, and chewy, creamy caramel holding it all together. What could go wrong?


Well, you could overbake the tart, for one thing. Make sure you forget to set the timer and lose track of how long it's been in the oven. Then grow paranoid that it's underbaked and you'll be serving raw tart to your guests (yes, you've invited guests to "enjoy" this tart) so bake it an extra 10 minutes, for good luck.

Then serve the tart with honey-vanilla ice cream, preferably on top of each slice, so the cold ice cream can make the caramel harden and become impossible to cut or bite through. Now sit back and watch your guests try their hardest to gracefully eat their slices.


Neither one of these recipes was a true disaster, and I do think that I'll make them again. I'm older, wiser, and know not to follow the cornmeal crust recipe, or overwork my mascarpone, or lose track of the time the almond tart has been in the oven. I mean, tarts this beautiful deserve to taste as good as they look, right?

Coming up next: mini tarts that are total Baldwins.*

*I fear the Clueless lexicon is perhaps not entirely appropriate for food writing.

Read More...

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Baklava Fingers & Spiced Orange Sorbet

Until recently, I've never given honey too much thought. My father worked as a beekeeper when he was younger, which meant that he was full of entertaining stories about bee shenanigans--including a dark time when a hive "went rogue" and made their own queen--and our pantry was always full of his honey.

Jeopardy trivia break: did you know that honey is the one food that never spoils? It can literally last for hundreds of years. It might crystallize, but it will liquefy again once warmed.

Anyhow, I grew up eating that honey, and then graduated to buying my own in little bear-shaped bottles. It was nice, it was sweet, it wasn't too memorable. And then I tried this:

I got some of this Wild Raspberry Honey from Bee Raw as a giveaway on Blake Makes (which, if you aren't familiar with the website, often has great giveaways.) It would be a slight exaggeration to say that this honey changed my life, but it certainly changed the way I think about honey. It. Is. Amazing. I could eat it by itself, with a spoon. It's really mild, and fruity, with some mellow tart notes not unlike a raspberry! Incredible.

So after making yogurt-honey parfaits and honey sandwiches, I decided to put it to good use by showcasing it in a few dessert recipes. Of course, my first thought was baklava.

I've never made baklava before but I often order it when we have Greek food. It's not to everyone's taste but I love the combination of crispy phyllo dough and toasted nuts soaked in a honey syrup. Of course, the problem is that it's easy to do wrong, and there's nothing appealing about an overly sweet, soggy mess of gooey dough.

Instead of the traditional large pan cut into squares, I made Baklava Fingers based on this recipe from Baking Obsession. The fingers are maybe more time intensive to make, but they're less messy to serve and eat, and I also think they look nicer when served with...drumroll please...

Spiced Orange and Honey Sorbet. (recipe from Epicurious.) This was such a delightful surprise! I chose it because I thought it would fit in with the honey and Middle Eastern theme, but we loved it in and of itself. It was incredibly light and refreshing, and all of the spices made it more interesting and playful than a straight fruit sorbet. It's a perfect summer recipe.

Another benefit of the orange sorbet is that it helped cut the sweetness of the honeyed baklava, and the baklava added some much-needed texture to the sorbet. Of course, now that the dessert is gone and my honey jar is almost empty I feel a bit adrift. I've tasted the good stuff and I don't want to go back to the bear! Maybe my dad will send me some of his "vintage" honey from the garage...

Read More...

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

TWD: Kumquat-Chocolate Tart

This week's recipe for Tuesdays with Dorie was supposed to be a chocolate raspberry tart, but I couldn't bring myself to buy fresh raspberries this week. Not because they're hard to find (although they are) or expensive (although they REALLY are) but because they're out of season and that is no longer allowed. I'm currently reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and aside from making me feel guilty about basically every purchase I've ever made at a grocery store, ever, it's also really inspired me to try to start eating locally and buying food mindfully, with an emphasis on seasonality. (If you haven't read the book--and I highly recommend it--it's a nonfiction account of her family's attempt to spend a year eating food they either grow or raise themselves, or grown within a very small area around them. Fascinating and very compelling.)


But enough environmental preaching, back to the dessert. Since most raspberries available this time of year are probably flown in from Chile or similar warm climates, they're obviously verboten. However, citrus fruits are seasonal and plentiful in southern California right now, so I spent some time thinking about how I could incorporate citrus before deciding to use kumquats, those delicious little sweet-tart balls of exploding pleasure, by candying them. How do you candy kumquats, you ask? Quick and easy instructions are down below under the cut!


This recipe had a fruit layer on the bottom of the tart, and then a ganache-type mixture poured on top and baked. After sitting for a few hours, the tart has the most amazing texture, somewhere between a set pudding and a silky ganache. It slithered around in the mouth before melting away entirely, just in time for the next bite. I was a little unsure about how the texture of the candied kumquats would work. I knew I would like the flavor combination--candying removes a lot of the tartness from the kumquats, leaving just the beautiful floral citrus notes. But I was afraid the slices would be too hard or chewy after baking.


Good news--they actually seemed a little softer after their time in the oven! There was a little texture, no doubt, but I didn't mind it at all and thought the chewy slices were a nice contrast to the smooth chocolate and crunchy tart shell. The tart was finished with big rosettes of whipped cream and decorated with some kumquat slices on top and slivers of orange peel.


At the risk of giving away what big pigs we are at my house, this 9" tart is now gone, a mere 36 hours after it was made. And there are only two of us here. Put your snouts in the air, oink like you don't care!


For those looking to recreate the magic, the (original) recipe can be found on Rachelle's blog.


To make the kumquats for this tart, I used 12 oz of kumquats, with a few reserved to use as decoration and for munching purposes. Start by thinly slicing them into rounds between 1/8-1/4 inch wide. You'll spend some time picking out the small seeds from the little devils, but try not to eat too many of them as a reward for all of your hard work.



Once they're all sliced, combine 1.25 cups of granulated sugar and 1 cup of water in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Once it's boiling, add the kumquat slices and turn the heat down so the mixture barely simmers. Cook until the kumquats are translucent, about 15-20 minutes.




After straining them (depending on what you're making, you may want to save the yummy syrup to soak cakes or something) they're ready to be used!


Read More...