a little zaftig » Breakfasts

Pink Grapefruit Curd with Honey

Laura — Sun, 15 Apr 2012 00:32:52 +0000

This pink grapefruit curd is buttery and silky and pleasantly piquant with a strong note of honey. Eat it smeared on toast, biscuits, or scones; stirred into plain yogurt or oatmeal or porridge; rolled up in a jellyroll or between cake layers; or piped into plain cookies.

Pink Grapefruit Curd with Honey
Yield: 1 ¼ cup

Ingredients:
1 c. freshly squeezed grapefruit juice (from about 2 grapefruits), strained through a fine mesh strainer
1 egg
5 egg yolks
½ c. honey
6 T. unsalted butter
a little pinch of salt

Grapefruit Curd Tips

I am a no-net kind of cook, but if you’re wary of curdling, you may do one of two things: cook the curd over a double boiler set-up over barely simmering water, or fill a sink with ice water and plunge your pan into it and whisk madly until your curd recovers.

The points at which you are most vulnerable to the dreaded curdle are when you add the grapefruit juice and as the cooking process reaches its peak. Be sure not to add the hot grapefruit juice until the butter is fully melted and the mixture is quite hot to the touch. Heating eggs gently in this manner is quite fine, but if you shock them with the hot juice you will be tossing out a pan of scrambled eggs. As you near the end of the cooking time, just stir vigorously.

I do not use a whisk, as I feel it adds too much air to the curd.

Focus your stirring towards the center of the pan, working to the outside occasionally. This will help to prevent curdling and burning.

If you have just a bit or two of solid egg protein, fear not, it will be strained out in the last step.

Method:

In a small pan over medium heat, bring the grapefruit juice to a simmer and reduce it by half.

In a large saucepan over low heat, stir the whole egg, egg yolks, honey, and butter together until the butter has melted.

Slowly add the grapefruit juice, stirring vigorously.

Continue to stir the curd until it thickens and a finger run across your spatula or wooden spoon creates a separation that does not close, about five minutes. The curd will continue to thicken as it cools.

Press the curd through a strainer into a medium bowl. At this point you may divide it into a jar or jars with tight-fitting lids and store it in the refrigerator for a month.

Eat it smeared on toast, biscuits, or scones; stirred into plain yogurt or oatmeal or porridge; rolled up into a jelly roll or bewteen cake layers; or piped into plain cookies.

Apple and Lingonberry Upside Down Coffee Cake

Laura — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 00:22:53 +0000

It’s been a pallid winter. I don’t mind. The fog that’s wrapped the house today is lovely and soft and has lingered nearly ‘til midday. And the mild temperatures have made everything here easier. I can scamper out to the chicken house in my nightgown and bare feet, across the bit of dry land under the eaves of the house and around the corner, when Beatrice is squawking in the middle of the night in alarm and needs a whispered word or two to calm her. I haven’t needed to put on a coat to tend the hens and gather eggs in the morning or to bring them vegetables in the early evening. And it’s nice to spend a bit more time with them, though Florence shrieks if I pop my head into the coop to say ‘hello’ when she’s in her nesting box. Little Annie, our terrier, is happy to romp and sniff in the backyard, oblivious to the hens and their antics. And there’s been little shoveling to do and little ice to melt or remove from the walk up to the house. It feels more like early spring than winter, really. We get a dusting of snow every now and then, lingering for a day on branches, not enough to plow, and the temperature dips just low enough to feel like it’s a proper winter before it climbs back up and the roof begins dripping again. I miss the snow, the bright skies that accompany deep cold. But I can wait for another year.

I have a container of fresh lingonberries and another of crème fraiche in my refrigerator and every morning for the last week, as I spoon some plain yogurt and a spoonful of jam into a bowl for breakfast, I have felt a little niggling guilt about not putting them to good use. So I decided to make them into a tender almond-scented coffee cake. Warm from the oven and flipped onto a plate to reveal tart apples and lingonberries in caramelized sugar, it seems like a nice way to wake up, and my Sweet Boy is home from school today.

Apple and Lingonberry Upside Down Coffee Cake
Yield: one ten-inch cake, eight to ten servings

Ingredients:
2 tart apples (such as Haralson)
½ c. fresh lingonberries (or substitute dried cranberries)
½ c. sugar

5 T. unsalted butter, soft but cool
¾ c. sugar
2 egg yolks (reserve the whites)
1 t. almond extract
½ c. crème fraiche (or substitute sour cream)
¾ c. cake flour
1 t. baking powder
a good pinch of salt
3 egg whites

Method:

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

Peel the apples, cut them into quarters, cut out the core, and slice them into ¼” slices.

In a large skillet over medium heat, cook the apples, stirring them periodically, until they are soft and the sugar is melted.

Gently stir in the lingonberries or dried cranberries and remove the pan from the heat.

In a large bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer, beat together the butter and sugar until they are pale and fluffy. This will take several minutes.

Add the egg yolks and mix well.

Add the almond extract and crème fraiche and mix well.

Scatter the salt and the baking powder across the top of the batter and mix well.

Add the flour and mix gently just until incorporated. Do not overmix.

In a medium bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the egg whites until they are glossy and stiff.

Gently fold the egg whites into the batter until they are uniformly incorporated.

Butter a 10” springform pan and pour the apples and lingonberries into it. Spread them into an even layer.

Pour the batter over the fruit and spread it gently and evenly into the pan.

Bake the cake in the lower third of your oven until the center springs back when lightly pressed and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, about 35 minutes.

This cake is best served warm. If you wish to serve it later, do not invert it immediately. After it has cooled on the counter, cover it tightly with aluminum foil. When you wish to serve it, remove the foil and warm it in a 350 degree F oven for ten minutes.

To invert the cake, place a serving plate slightly larger than the cake over the top and center the cake. With one quick and sure movement, flip the two so that the plate is upright and the cake pan upside down on top. Release the springform. The cake will drop onto the plate. Then, using a thin spatula, slide the bottom of the cake pan off the fruit topping. Pretty up any fruit that has been dislodged in the process and serve immediately.

Feather Pillow Pancakes with Warm Lingonberries

Laura — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 21:50:58 +0000

My Honey Girl flew back to college tonight. Everywhere now, throughout the house, there are reminders of her, and of our last week together: a scarf hanging to dry after a walk in the snow, boots tossed in the hallway, the last blueberry pancake from our breakfast this morning wrapped in foil in the refrigerator, her gym thingamabob on my key fob, a tin of British baked beans in the pantry which she bought while home and never ate, the smell of her lovely perfume on a scarf she borrowed.

When she was a baby, and my Dear Husband was completing a graduate program in England, I walked with her every day. We didn’t have a car, so I’d take her out in our Emmaljunga buggy, whatever the weather. We’d stroll to the shops–to the butcher or fishmonger, the bakery, or the grocer—for a bit of fresh air and sunlight, or to look at the hoarfrost or the landscape drenched in rain, and on the way I’d talk to her. I’d wonder out loud to that little, smiling face wrapped in a pale blue hood, what would she look like at five, at ten, at fifteen, at twenty? What would she like, and dislike? What would her voice sound like? What would interest her? As I said goodbye to her across the airport security lines, blowing kisses and catching a glance of her face one last time, I realized that this was it, my Honey Girl at twenty. I’d never wondered beyond this age. It seemed so far off, so impossibly distant. And it’s here, so quickly, much too quickly. Here she is, all of those mysterious details filled in. She is such a lovely person.

The transition when she leaves is always difficult; this one especially so. There are mothers who would sing Alleluia when the summer ended and school resumed, who sang the praises of summer camp, and nights with babysitters, and playdates at others’ homes. I never felt that way. I loved having her around—at every age—and her friends, too, their voices, their talk, their laughter filling up the house. It’s hard whenever she leaves because I treasure her so, because we’ve always had such a nice day together—every day, whatever the circumstances or season or age. My Dear Husband says that we’re entering a new phase: the adult friendship stage, one of true independence and an end to active parenting. That sounds nice, I suppose. But I think of it this way: she’s a cooked egg now, and she did such a good job of growing up.

I used to make these pancakes with warm lingonberries when she was a little pip. She and my Sweet Boy would eat them up as quickly as they came off the griddle. In fact, I made pancakes of one variety or another so many mornings together before school that I couldn’t possible count them. I can see them now, toothy grins over the edge of our tall table, my Honey Girl in a printed dress and my Sweet Boy trying to press down a rippling shirt collar, or both of them still in winter pajamas with fuzzy hair.

These pancakes are tender and remarkably light. If you can’t find fresh lingonberries, serve them with maple syrup, fruit preserves, or confectioners’ sugar. And if you want to squeeze making pancakes into a busy morning, mix together the dry ingredients and wet ingredients in separate bowls the night before, and refrigerate the wet ingredients. In the morning, heat up a griddle, stir them together, and fry up the pancakes. These are even easier. The batter can be made the night before, excepting the egg whites, and refrigerated. In the morning, beat and fold in the egg whites. By the time little teeth are brushed and buttons buttoned, you’ll have breakfast nearly ready.

Feather Pillow Pancakes with Warm Lingonberries
Yield: about 20 4-inch pancakes

Ingredients:
½ c. crème fraiche
1 ½ c. buttermilk
2 egg yolks
the zest of an orange and a good squeeze of the juice from each half of the orange
a little dribble of almond extract
1/3 c. unsalted butter, melted
1 t. baking soda
a pinch of salt
1 c. all purpose flour (I prefer King Arthur.)
2 egg whites
butter for the griddle
fresh lingonberries
a bit of sugar for the lingonberries
confectioners’ sugar for dusting the pancakes

Method:

In a large bowl, whisk together the crème fraiche, buttermilk, egg yolks, orange zest, orange juice, and almond extract.

Gently stir in the butter.

Sprinkle the baking soda and the salt evenly across the bowl and stir to combine.

Add the flour and stir until well mixed.

In a medium bowl, or the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the egg whites until they are stiff and glossy.

Gently fold them into the batter.

Heat a griddle to 312 degrees F, or until a bit of batter dropped on its buttered surface sizzles gently.

Butter the griddle. (I use a stick of butter and rub the griddle directly with it.)

Spoon ¼ to 1/3 c. of the batter onto the griddle for each pancake.

Fry the pancakes until the edges appear crisp.

Flip them and fry the other side.

In a small pan over low heat, warm the lingonberries with a bit of sugar to taste, perhaps 2 T to ¼ c..

Serve the pancakes with the warm lingonberries and a dusting of confectioners’ sugar.

Crispy French Toast

Laura — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 21:53:35 +0000

The house is quiet now—very, very quiet. I return in distracted moments to small things: the view of the bare branches of the trees against the sky from the chair I read in, the deep blue sky beginning to glow just before the sun rises as I drive my Sweet Boy to high school. It’s just the two of us now. I’m beginning to enjoy the good parts of that: dan dan noodles and wrinkled Szechuan green beans and a movie together; dancing in the kitchen; walks, mostly in silence, just the two of us; and time to talk after school and in the evening each day about everything that occupies the mind of a 17-year old boy. These things are gifts in my Dear Husband’s absence. I baked a homey apple cake this weekend and cleaned the house and slept for the first time since mid-August, and I feel a little more alive again. These things are gifts, too. My Sweet Boy and I are going to cook Thanksgiving dinner together this year, but we have a few days before we start dry brining a turkey and rolling out piecrust and tackling our list of sides. In the meantime, I’m going to recreate a crispy French toast we had years ago at a greasy spoon in St. Paul, when we were all together, laughing and mopping up syrup.

Crispy French Toast
Yield: 6 thick slices

Ingredients:
An unsliced loaf of good white bread
3 c. corn flakes cereal
3 eggs
½ c. cream, or half and half, or whole milk
½ t. vanilla extract
Canola oil (or other neutral oil) for the pan
Pure maple syrup (See how it’s made here.)

Method:

Slice the bread with a serrated bread knife into 1 ½” slices.

In a plastic zip-top bag, crush the corn flakes with a rolling pin until they are small pieces and not yet dust. Place them in a shallow bowl large enough to dip a piece of bread, or on a plate.

In a shallow bowl large enough to dip a slice of bread, beat together the eggs, milk, and vanilla.

Heat a griddle or fry pan filled with ¼” of oil over medium heat until it is 312 degrees F, or a small piece of bread sizzles when dropped into the oil.

Line up the bread, the egg mixture, and the corn flakes to the right of your griddle.

Dip a slice of bread into the egg mixture, soak it, and turn it over to soak the other side.

Dip both sides of the bread into the corn flakes and place it gently onto the griddle or frying pan.

Repeat to fill the pan with slices. Do not overcrowd the pan, as your oil temperature will drop too much.

Fry the French toast until it is golden brown and crisp, about three minutes. Then turn each slice gently and fry until golden brown and crisp.

Serve with pure maple syrup.

Rich Blue Cornmeal and Applesauce Pancakes + Lost Things

Laura — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 15:23:43 +0000

The summer is fading now. I know it’s autumn, of course, but it’s been so unseasonably warm in Minnesota these past weeks that, despite the leaves changing color and blowing from the trees, in my mind it’s still summertime. And I wish it were still summer, before everything had changed and I had lost so many things. I haven’t posted for a long time, in part I think because I wanted either to go back or to skip forward, until things were better again, easy and sweet and summery. Loss is hard. And that’s okay. We muster the will or courage to go forward. Or we get out of bed and the day passes until we can, which is its own kind of will and courage. Somehow it gets better. Or I hope it does. No, it does. Even when the losses still feel like the whole big bowl of the sky, small things begin to appear again, babe in woods moments of acute awareness when the wind as I drive or a blue cornmeal pancake roots me in the present for a moment and takes me away from the losses. And moments when a friend understands that there is no making this better, no easy solution, no pat answer, understands that I’m okay and more than just the losses, and that silent support means more than anything else. Then gratitude comes rushing in and eclipses all that seems so hard to bear. And I know that autumn will come, and winter, and spring, and maybe next year by the time summer comes again things really will be better, the losses will seem smaller or more distant and certainly not the whole big bowl of the sky anymore. I’ll hold on for that.

Rich Blue Cornmeal and Applesauce Pancakes
Yield: ten five-inch diameter pancakes

Ingredients:
1 c. all purpose flour (I prefer King Arthur.)
1 c. stone ground blue cornmeal
1 T. baking powder
¼ c. dark brown sugar
a pinch of salt
2 large eggs
3/4 c. natural, unsweetened applesauce
½ c. half and half
1 c. milk
¼ c. (½ stick) unsalted butter, melted
canola or other neutral oil for the griddle

Method:

In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, blue cornmeal, baking powder, dark brown sugar, and salt.

In a small bowl, beat the eggs with a fork and stir in the applesauce, half and half, milk, and melted butter.

Stir the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients with a fork, mixing only until combined. There will be lumps in the batter. Do not overmix.

Heat a griddle or large frying pan over medium heat. (312 degrees F is ideal.) When it is hot, drizzle in a little oil. When the oil is hot, pour in ½ c. batter per pancake.

Fry the pancakes until bubbles form across the top and the edges look dry.

Flip each pancake and fry on the other side.

Add a bit more oil to the pan with each batch to fry.

Serve hot with butter and maple syrup. (Pure maple syrup is best.)

Rhubarb Baked Oatmeal

Laura — Thu, 26 May 2011 13:17:39 +0000

It has rained and rained and then rained some more here this spring. So it’s put us in the mood for something warm and comforting for breakfast. I sweetened my version of baked oatmeal with rhubarb sauce, and then a couple of days later with rhubarb conserve, and scattered the top with diced rhubarb, which roasts as the oatmeal bakes up. If you don’t have rhubarb sauce or conserve, substitute an equal amount of sugar or any other sweetener you like.

Rhubarb Baked Oatmeal
Ingredients:
butter for the baking dish
2 c. rolled oats
1 t. baking powder
½ t. salt
½ c. milk
½ c. half and half
1 egg
½ c. rhubarb sauce (recipe here) or substitute rhubarb compote or conserve or an equal amount of sugar
¼ c. melted butter
1 c. diced rhubarb
2 T. sugar

Method:

Generously butter an eight-inch square baking dish and preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

Toss the oats, baking powder, and salt together in the baking dish.

In a medium bowl, mix together the milk, half and half, egg, rhubarb sauce, and melted butter until they are well combined.

Pour it over the oats and toss them together.

In a small bowl, toss together the diced rhubarb and sugar.

Scatted the rhubarb over the oats.

Bake until the oatmeal is toasted on top and creamy in the center, about 30 minutes.

Serve warm with a pour of cold cream, half and half, or milk.

Savory Breakfast Bread Pudding with Fiddlehead Ferns, Sausage, Caramelized Leeks and Red Spring Onions, & Gruyere

Laura — Mon, 23 May 2011 14:05:45 +0000

One pan, some pork sausage browned, caramelized leeks and red spring onion tossed in behind to caramelize, then in go fiddlehead ferns to sauté with some garlic. All of this is tossed into a buttered baking dish over a cubed loaf of crusty country bread. It’s topped with grated Gruyere, and eggs and cream are poured over top. Then you’re just half an hour from crusty, custardy, savory goodness. Ever since our good friend Apur introduced us to the idea, we’ve been hooked. I suspect you will be, too. Substitute asparagus if you don’t find fiddleheads.

a basket of fiddleheads

Savory Breakfast Bread Pudding with Fiddleheads, Sausage, Caramelized Leeks and Spring Onions, & Gruyere
Yield: about eight servings

Ingredients:
butter for the baking dish
8 c. cubed crusty country-style bread
1 pound pork sausage
1 small leek, diced and rinsed thoroughly
1 large red spring onion (or another small leek), diced
1 ½ c. fiddlehead ferns, rubbed to remove their brown papery bits and washed thoroughly (or asparagus)
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 ounces Gruyere, grated
5 eggs
2 c. half and half (or 1 c. heavy cream and 1 c. whole milk)
salt and pepper to taste
¼ t. freshly grated nutmeg

Method:

Butter a large baking dish and preheat your oven to 375 degrees F.

Place the cubed bread in the pan.

In a large skillet over low heat, brown the sausage, breaking it into bite-sized pieces with a wooden spoon. When it is golden brown, remove it from the pan, and distribute it across the baking dish. No need to worry that it’s cooked through, as it will continue to cook in the oven.

Wipe the excess fat from the skillet, leaving a bit behind. Add the leeks and spring onions and allow them to brown, stirring occasionally. When they are ready, distribute them in the baking dish.

Add the fiddlehead ferns to the pan and a pinch of salt and pepper and sauté them until they are softening and taking on a just bit of color. Add the garlic and stir for one minute. Distribute the fiddleheads and garlic in the baking dish.

Scatter the grated cheese across the top of the baking dish.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, half and half, salt and pepper, and nutmeg. Pour it evenly over the baking dish.

Bake until the top of the bread pudding is golden brown and the inside is set but still moist, about 35 minutes.

Rhubarb Cordial

Laura — Thu, 19 May 2011 14:16:42 +0000

Definitions for cordials seem rather contradictory. Dictionary dot com defines one as “a strong, sweetened, aromatic alcoholic liquor or liqueur;” others describe a sweet, nonalcoholic fruit concentrate. My favorite definition comes from Merriam Webster: “tending to revive, cheer or invigorate,” and is associated with cordial waters. It seems the most fitting for this rhubarb cordial. It is brightly flavored, sweet but not overly so, softly tart, and silky. I had a glut of rhubarb this morning, so my cooking from this single pot actually yielded two cups of rhubarb sauce, three cups of rhubarb compote, and three cups of rhubarb cordial. I’ll be posting sister recipes in the coming days. In the meantime, sip on some rhubarb cordial. It’s made a rhubarb lover of even the most skeptical in our house. In fact, we’ll be celebrating our Honey Girl’s homecoming after a year away at college with a rhubarb champagne tipple tonight. It’s almost as pretty as this spring day. You may pour a dram of the cordial into a glass of Prosecco and serve it with brunch or as an aperitif. Stir it into some homemade plain yogurt for breakfast. Stir some into a pitcher of homemade lemonade for a spring picnic. Or mix it with water, still or sparkling, for a refreshing springtime cooler.

Rhubarb Cordial
Yield:

Ingredients:
3 ½ pounds rhubarb, diced into ½“ cubes to yield 9 c.
4 ½ c. water
3 c. sugar

Method:

Place the diced rhubarb, water, and sugar in a large pan and bring it to a simmer over high heat, stirring briefly until the sugar is dissolved.

Reduce the heat to low and simmer until the fruit is breaking down and any remaining pieces are very soft, about 15 minutes.

Allow the rhubarb to cool in the pan. Reserving two cups to later make into rhubarb sauce, strain it over a large bowl or pan. Be gentle here and allow the rhubarb to drain naturally. If you smash or try to rush it, you will end with rhubarb pulp rather than rhubarb compote. Stop the draining process when the rhubarb remaining in the strainer is still appealingly juicy. If you would like an especially clear cordial, strain the liquid a second time through a jelly bag.

Using a funnel, pour the cordial into clean bottles or jars with tight-fitting corks or lids. It will keep in the refrigerator for about two weeks.

Serving Suggestions
With brunch or as an aperitif, pour a dram into a glass of Prosecco.
For breakfast, stir some into homemade plain yogurt.
For a spring picnic, stir some into a pitcher of homemade lemonade.
Or mix it with water, still or sparkling, for a refreshing spring drink.

Wild Ramp Cream Cheese

Laura — Fri, 13 May 2011 12:49:02 +0000

If you are lucky enough to find some ramps this spring, and you can barely wait to cook with them, you can tame them and get one or two onto your plate in a heartbeat with this cream cheese. Smeared onto some good bread, a bagel, or crispbread, these wild leeks, redolent of garlic and chives, breathe their pungent breath into and through a creamy cheese. Just one or two do the trick. As they are mild early in the spring and increasingly sharp, use more or fewer as the season dictates.

Wild Ramp Cream Cheese
Yield: 8 ounces

Ingredients:
8 ounces good cream cheese
1 or 2 wild ramps, washed, root end removed, and finely diced (You may use the entire plant, but I use just the stems here and save the greens for cooking.)

Method:

In a small bowl, stir the ramps into the cheese using a spoon.

The cheese will keep covered tightly in the refrigerator for about one week.

Boozy Hot Cross Buns with Rum Brown Sugar Butter

Laura — Wed, 06 Apr 2011 03:37:42 +0000

When you’re done with the egg hunt, the Easter bonnet has been pulled off and tossed aside, when churching and snapping pictures are past, and you’re ready for a buttery breakfast roll or something sweet next to your slice of ham, make these. They are a bit on the time intensive side, but nearly all of the labor is done a day in advance, so that all you need to do on Easter morning is roll the buns and bake them. These hot cross buns look a bit more like mini baps than conventional buns, but they are sweet and buttery, with a little pop from the boozy, plump currants and a sweet crisscross of rum and orange liqueur-laced icing. Smear them with a little dark rum brown sugar butter.

Boozy Hot Cross Buns with Rum Brown Sugar Butter
Yield: a dozen buns

Ingredients:
3 T. orange juice
1 ½ T. orange liqueur, such as Grand Marnier
½ c. dark rum
¾ c. currants (or raisins if you can’t find them)
…
2 packages (5 ½ t.) active dry yeast
¾ c. whole milk, warmed until it is tepid
1 ½ c. all purpose flour (I prefer King Arthur.)
1/3 c. sugar
½ t. ground ginger
½ t. ground cinnamon
½ t. freshly grated nutmeg
2 eggs
2 T. of the fruit soaking liquid (rum, orange liqueur, and orange juice)
1 T. vanilla extract
very finely grated zest of one orange
½ t. salt
1 ½ c. bread flour
1 c. (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
…
½ c. confectioners’ sugar
1 T. orange liqueur, such as Grand Marnier
1 T. dark rum
…
¼ c. dark rum
6 T. butter
¼ c. brown sugar

Method:

One day Ahead:

In a small pan, or in the microwave, warm the orange juice, orange liqueur, dark rum, and currants. When the liquid comes to a simmer, turn off the heat and allow the currants to soak and plump until they are needed in the recipe. The currants will absorb nearly all of the liquid.

In a small pan, or in the microwave, warm the milk until it is just above body temperature.

Add the yeast and stir briefly. Set the yeast and milk aside and allow it to bloom. It will be foamy in appearance if the yeast has activated properly.

In a large bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer, mix together the all purpose flour, sugar, and spices.

Add the milk and yeast and mix on low speed until combined. Scrape the dough into a ball and cover the bowl. Place it in a warm place to rise until it is doubled in size, about 1 ½ hours.

Mix in the eggs, fruit soaking liquid, and vanilla.

Mix in the bread flour and salt on low speed.

Knead the dough until it is silky smooth, about 10 minutes, either by hand or with the dough hook of an electric mixer.

Add the butter and knead until it is fully incorporated. Be patient, it will all be incorporated with time.

Drain any remaining liquid from the currants over a small bowl, reserving the liquid if you wish, and knead them into the dough.

Place the bowl in a warm place and allow the dough to rise until nearly doubled in size, about one hour.

Cover the bowl with cellophane and chill it in the refrigerator overnight, or for a minimum of 30 minutes. I find it’s easiest to chill the dough overnight and to bake the buns the next morning.

You may make the rum brown sugar butter one and the icing one day ahead, as well, if you wish. See below.

On the Day:

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and shape the dough into 12 balls. Place them on a buttered baking sheet, spaced evenly.

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees F.

Cover the sheet of buns and place it in a warm place. Allow the the buns to rise until not quite doubled in size, about one hour.

Bake the buns for 12 to 16 minutes, or until they are golden brown and sound a bit hollow when tapped.

Allow them to cool completely.

Meanwhile, mix the confectioners’ sugar, the orange liqueur, and the rum until it is a smooth icing.

In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter and brown sugar. Stir in the dark rum. Simmer until it is reduced and syrupy.

Refrigerate the rum brown sugar butter until serving time.

When the buns are cool, pipe two crisscrossing stripes of icing across the top of each bun. (In a pinch, they can be drizzled with the icing while still warm.) Serve with the rum brown sugar butter.

Crustless Quiche with Bacon, Gruyere, Fat Whole Asparagus Spears, and Leeks & Roasted Sugarplum Tomatoes

Laura — Sat, 02 Apr 2011 22:50:15 +0000

I think a lot of people can’t be bothered with making a quiche at home because they don’t want to fiddle with pastry for a crust. Some years ago I discovered that a quiche will bake up beautifully without one. Here’s the latest quiche from my oven, served with a side of sweet roasted sugarplum tomatoes.

Roasted Sugarplum Tomatoes

Ingredients:
1 small clamshell of sugarplum or cherry or grape tomatoes, sliced in half lengthwise
olive oil for the pan
salt and pepper

Method:
Preheat your oven to 275 degrees F.
On a baking sheet, toss the sliced tomatoes in a little olive oil, salt, and pepper.
Bake for one hour, or until the skin is a bit rumpled but the interiors are still juicy.

Crustless Quiche with Bacon, Gruyere, Fat Whole Spears of Asparagus, and Leeks
Yield: one 9-inch quiche, about 4 to 6 generous servings

Ingredients:
Softened butter for the pie plate, about 2 t.
½ pound good bacon, diced
1 small leek, trimmed of its hairy and darker green fibrous ends, diced, and washed well
¼ pound Gruyere or Emmenthaler cheese, grated
1 medium bunch of fat asparagus spears, with their woody ends snapped off and washed
…
5 eggs
1 ½ c. heavy cream
a pinch of salt and pepper

Method:

Increase your oven temperature to 400 degrees F, or heat a second oven to this temperature.

Smear a little soft butter into the pie plate and up the sides.

In a large skillet over medium heat, fry the bacon until it is tender crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon to a piece of foil or a paper plate. Wipe the bacon fat from the pan with some paper toweling.

Add the leek to the same pan and sauté briefly until tender.

Grate the cheese into the bottom of the pie plate.

Scatter the bacon and then the leeks over the top.

In a small bowl, beat together the egg and cream. Season it with a bit of salt and pepper.

Pour the cream and egg mixture over the top of the bacon, leeks, and cheese.

Arrange the asparagus spears over the top and nestle them into the egg and cream.

Bake for 30 minutes, or until slightly puffed and golden.

Serve the quiche in wedges with a side of the roasted tomatoes.