a little zaftig » Tea Time

Baby Barmbracks with Sherry

Laura — Thu, 10 May 2012 02:30:43 +0000

My Honey Girl and I spent the first week of April together in Ireland. Beneath a cornflower blue sky and tucked into the soft Connemara mountains, celadon in sunlight, black in shadow, we settled into the Cashel House where Mrs. McEvilly and her soft-spoken staff surrounded us with their incomparable care, tucking hot water bottles into our beds on chilly evenings and placing our pajamas on top so they were warm, too, bringing us pots of tea and biscuits, and glasses of champagne, and books to read in comfortable chairs before turf fires, poached rhubarb for our morning porridge, and sandwiches and slices of rhubarb tart when we arrived back too late for dinner. Without an itinerary we set about a proper vacation, that is, a week to do nothing but what suited us in the moment and focused primarily on total relaxation. We took out our battered little rental car to wind through Connemara, north and south, east and west, as interest and whim took us, past wooly sheep doused in the pink and blue dyes used in this part of the world since Adam was a boy, past the blooming gorse, brilliant yellow, past men hunched to cut bricks of peat in the ancient bogs, and Irish gardens in bloom: daffodil and tulip, heather and camellia, crocus and rhododendron and azalea, hyacinth, narcissus, agapanthus, vinca and spring gentian. In fact, I felt all week like a flower myself, with my own personal sunshine, my Honey Girl, beside me, waking from the long, grey dream of winter. Through the windshield: the savage beauty of the landscape (curtsy here to Oscar Wilde), the barren loveliness of the Burren, its limestone softened by wildflower, the sea with all its shades of blue, its rock, its draped grass, thatched cottages walled with stone, and the odd shaggy cow. We slept and hiked and lolled and ate and drank until we were so content we couldn’t wish for more—except perhaps that our time together wouldn’t end.

One of our favorite discoveries of the week was a barmbrack we ate at the Burren Perfumery, a charming spot with an herb garden, tea room, still room, and shop where they sell lovely wild-crafted perfumes and body products. Barmbrack is a fruitcake, a keeping cake, perfect with a cup of strong tea. The recipe I developed is a one-bowl stir-up. I soaked raisins and sultanas and currants overnight in black tea and added homemade candied orange peel, big candied cherries, dark muscovado sugar, and sherry the next day. The cake is dense and moist with pops of cherry and sherry against the earthiness of the tea and spice. I made a big batch so I could share some with my pantry exchange group and the rest with family. If you’re not keen on fruitcake, this one might change your mind. I’m most happy that whenever I bake it or eat it, it will return me to the memory of first sharing it with my Honey Girl in the little oasis of our week together.

Baby Barmbracks with Sherry
Yield: ten mini loaves

Ingredients:
1 c. raisins
2 c. golden raisins
1 ½ c. currants
3 c. strong black tea, preferably Irish
1 c. whole candied cherries
½ c. diced candied orange peel
1 ½ c. muscovado sugar (or substitute dark brown sugar + 2 T molasses)
1 ½ c. sugar
1 c. sherry (I love Lustau East India Solera.)
2 eggs
2 ½ c. all purpose flour (I prefer King Arthur.)
2 ½ c. whole wheat pastry flour (or substitute all purpose flour)
½ t. baking soda
1 t. cinnamon
¼ t. ground cloves
½ t. ginger
½ t. freshly ground nutmeg
½ t. salt

Method:

The night before you wish to bake the cakes, in a large mixing bowl, stir together the raisins, golden raisins, currants, and tea. Cover the bowl and refrigerate it overnight.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

Add the cherries, orange peel, sugars, sherry, and egg, and mix until well combined.

Place a sieve over the bowl and add the flours, baking soda, spices, and salt. Shake the ingredients through the sieve and stir the batter gently until it is uniformly mixed. Do not overmix.

Place ten mini loaf pans onto a large jellyroll pan and divide the batter evenly into the pans, about one scant cup of batter per pan.

Bake for 30 minutes. Rotate the pan 180 degrees in your oven. Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center of a cake comes out clean or nearly clean, about an additional 30 to 35 minutes.

When they have cooled completely, the cakes may be wrapped tightly in cellophane and then aluminum foil and frozen. They will also keep wrapped this way at room temperature for about one week.

Serve with a nice cup of Irish or other good black tea.

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.

Brown Butter Almond Cake with Homemade Citrus Jelly

Laura — Mon, 11 Apr 2011 23:39:32 +0000

It is 45 degrees here this morning. The sky is clear and big and bright blue, and the last of the snow is melting. Even the spot where the plows had pushed up a good eight feet at the end of the driveway has nearly disappeared. There is the smell of dirt and life in the air, and the first green shoots are pushing up as the earth thaws and warms. It seems like a nice day, then, to celebrate the end of winter. I spied the last of the winter citrus jelly I made in March in my refrigerator this morning and decided to make a little cake to say farewell to winter and welcome to spring. So I baked a brown butter almond cake, and smeared the layers with the jelly, and topped it with the last of the slices of candied citrus from last month, too. I had preserved them in some vanilla syrup, and they are just as pretty as can be, tiny slices of kumquat, small slices of meyer lemon and tangerine, and big moons of cara cara orange and grapefruit, all flecked with vanilla seeds. And the cake, well, it’s as pretty as can be, too: lofty egg whites with browned butter, deeply toasted almonds, and nothing to interfere with these pure flavors. Oh my. It’s somehow both light and rich, and the bittersweet honey of the jelly and the candied citrus are a nice counterpoint. I baked this into a three-layer miniature cake and put the rest of the batter into a two-cup bundt pan. I covered it with cellophane and will bring it to room temperature tomorrow before I bake it off and then dust it with confectioners’ sugar or drape it in a glaze, probably bitter chocolate. You could use any baking pan you’d like, or even a muffin tin. Just adjust the baking time, checking the cakes every few minutes until they are done. When it’s just the three of us, I like to bake like this so that we have two modest desserts with a variation on a theme, rather than one big dessert that gets sad looking and eventually tossed. It’s no more fuss, really, just a few more peeks in the oven, and such a delicious reward.

Brown Butter Almond Cake
Yield: one four-inch, three-layer cake plus one two-cup bundt cake

Ingredients:
½ c. unsalted butter
1 ¼ c. confectioners’ sugar
¾ c. whole almonds
½ t. baking powder
¾ c. all purpose flour (I prefer King Arthur.)
6 egg whites
1/3 c. sugar

Method:

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.

Butter 3 four-inch cake pans and a 2-cup bundt pan. Or butter any baking pan you’d like to use, or even a muffin tin. You will just need to adjust the baking time if you use another pan, checking the cake or cakes every few minutes until they are done.

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.

Place the almonds on a baking sheet and bake them for 10 minutes, giving the tray a shake halfway through the baking time.

Lower your oven heat to 350 degrees F.

In a small saucepan over low heat, melt the butter. Cook the butter until it is a deep brown. Watch it carefully as it progresses, as it may burn quickly. Remove it from the heat and set it aside until it is tepid.

In the bowl of a food processor, combine the almonds, flour, confectioners’ sugar, and baking powder. Process until the almonds are finely ground, about one minute.

In a medium bowl or the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the egg whites until they are quite stiff, about three minutes.

Ever so slowly add the sugar. Beat for one additional minute.

Add the tepid brown butter and beat gently to combine.

Add the almond and flour mixture in two batches and mix gently only until combined. Do not overmix.

Divide the batter into the pans and bake the small cakes for 18-23 minutes, or until they take on just a bit of pale golden brown and they spring back when pressed lightly in the center. Bake the bundt cake separately until it is done. If you wish to bake it another day, cover it and store it in the refrigerator. Then bring it to room temperature and bake it at 350 dgrees F until it is light golden and springs back when pressed lightly in the center. I would start with 15 minutes and then begin checking the cake every few minutes.

To assemble the cake, tip out the cake layers by inverting them and giving them a little tap.

Trim the cake layers using a serrated knife to level their tops.

Place a layer on a cake plate, smear it with jelly, continue until you have all three layers laced with jelly, and top it with candied citrus slices, if you wish. You could dust the cake with a little confectioners’ sugar if you don’t have candied citrus.

Recipes for Candied Citrus and Winter Citrus Jelly are here and here, but you could use any jam or jelly, homemade or purchased.

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.

A Banana Bread Spectacular :: From Plain Jane Loaf to Homey Dessert: Banana Bread Sautéed in Clarified Butter with Caramelized Bananas & Flaming Whisky Sauce, Tea Cake with Celtic Crossing Frosting, and More!

Laura — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 22:31:03 +0000

Our Sweet Boy Freddy woke up to a happy surprise. His friend Carly came over to bake with me Sunday morning. Much silliness ensued.

I told my friend William yesterday that I suffer from recipe brain. It’s a blessing, until it isn’t. It wakes me up, keeps me up, and seldom lets me rest. I see images, literally, of recipes, ideas for any ingredient I see, and how to take something I’ve made, a custard or a jam or a loaf of bread, say banana bread, and turn it into something else. So that’s what I’m up to today, sharing some of the thoughts that popped into my head when I used up some overripe bananas with Carly.

I think everyone should have one really good recipe for all of the basics. This banana bread is the best I’ve ever had. I may be a bit biased since it’s my great aunt’s recipe, which I’ve tweaked just a little over the years, but when I made it for a friend some years ago, she hunted all over the Twin Cities for it, thinking it had come from a pastry shop. It’s ultra moist—almost bread pudding-esque—sweet and homey.

This is how I remember my great aunt, whom I called Grandma Sherry: sweet, old school Catholic, the kind of person who dreamed of having a grand stone fireplace and who painted one on the wall of her modest house with little pots of color from the craft store. When she was older and I lived nearby, I used to bring her dinner every afternoon and then we’d have cocoa and a little chat. I learned that she was a feisty, daring young woman—a kind of uber-cool ingénue. She changed her name from Kaye to Sherry because she thought it more sophisticated, dropped out of school, and met her then-boyfriend Mac who worked on the railroad for late-night dates in the city. She’s pictured above on the right with my grandma. And here, the two of them off to my grandma’s wedding in St. Paul.

I like this bread best unadorned with a cold glass of milk. It’s the perfect after school nibble or mid-afternoon pick me up.

But it’s also nice as a simple teacake with a little Celtic Crossing frosting. (We added a few chocolate chips to a couple loaves just for Carly.)

And if the loaf has lasted more than ten minutes, it’s also delicious sliced and toasted with a bit of mascarpone laced with powdered sugar and Celtic Crossing liqueur.

When I’m feeling fancy, I might caramelize some bananas slices, add some whisky and extra butter to the pan and light it ablaze tableside to be spooned over the sautéed slices of bread. (Pyrotechnics not pictured.) A little plain whipped cream or whipped crème fraiche on top would be nice, too. If you refrigerate the banana bread before you make it this way, the contrast of temperatures is appealing, and the bread has an exceptionally creamy texture. Serve with a dram of whisky and toast to Grandma Sherry!

Banana Bread
Yield: two loaves (I like to eat one loaf and pop the other in the freezer so that I can make an impromptu dessert later.)

Ingredients:
¼ c. shortening (Don’t overthink it. Just plop it in.)
½ c. unsweetened applesauce
2 c. sugar
2 eggs
3 c. all purpose flour
1 t. salt
1 t. baking soda
1 c. milk (I use whole milk but any milk you have will work.)
1 t. vinegar
2 t. vanilla extract
3 large overripe bananas, mashed until they are liquid

Method:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Grease and flour two bread pans.

Mash the bananas until they are liquid.

Cream the shortening and the sugar.

Add the applesauce and mix thoroughly.

Add the eggs and mix thoroughly.

Sift the flour, baking soda, and salt.

Add the vinegar to the milk and allow it to sit for a few moments.

Add the dry ingredients alternately with the milk to the batter, mixing gently between additions. I add half the flour, then half the milk, then half the flour, then half the milk.

Add the bananas and the vanilla and mix gently.

Divide the batter evenly into two loaf pans and smooth the tops.

Bake for 40 to 50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out nearly clean. Do not overbake.

Cool in pans for 10 minutes. Run a knife around the breads and remove them from their pans. Finish cooling on a rack. When cool, wrap tightly in cellophane and then foil.

This bread may be stored at room temperature, wrapped well, for several days. It is also delicious served cold from the refrigerator.

The bread may be wrapped in cellophane and then foil and stored in the freezer. Bring to room temperature on the countertop.

Celtic Crossing Cream Cheese Frosting

Ingredients:
8 ounces cream cheese
½ c. unsalted butter, softened
¼ c. Celtic Crossing liqueur
1 1/3 c. powdered sugar

Method:

Mix all ingredients until creamy and smooth.

Sautéed Banana Bread

Ingredients:
1 loaf banana bread, sliced
a knob of butter (or clarified butter if you have some), about 3T.

Method:

In a large sauté pan, melt the butter over medium heat.

Add the banana bread slices in a single layer and fry lightly until golden brown.

Flip the slices and fry the other side until golden brown.

Serve immediately.
This is delicious topped with Sweet Mascarpone with Celtic Crossing Liqueur or with Caramelized Bananas with Flaming Whisky Sauce and Whipped Cream or Whipped Crème Fraiche, all below. If you don’t want to fuss with these, it’s nice with a dusting of powdered sugar. I could go on all day, but let me just add that it’s also wonderful as the basis for bread pudding.

Sweet Mascarpone with Celtic Crossing Liqueur

Ingredients:
8 ounces mascarpone
powdered sugar to taste, about ½ c.
a little dribble of vanilla extract, about 1 t.
a good dribble of Celtic Crossing Liqueur, about 3 T.

Method:

Mix all ingredients until creamy and smooth.

You may substitute any liqueur that appeals to you, of course. A bit of orange zest might also make a nice addition.

Caramelized Bananas with Flaming Whisky Sauce
Yield: 4 to 6 servings

Ingredients:
2 bananas, sliced
a good knob of butter, perhaps 3 T.
a generous sprinkle of brown sugar, about ¼ c.
a few glugs of whisky, about ¼ c.

Method:

In a large sauté pan, melt the butter.

Add the banana slices and the sugar.

Cook until the sugar melts and the bananas take on a nice bit of color.

Add the whisky and ignite it. (Be careful!)

Continue to cook after the flames die down until the sauce is a nice syrupy consistency.

A few toasted pecans or walnuts or spiced nuts might make a nice garnish.

Simplest Whipped Cream or Whipped Crème Fraiche

Ingredients:
1 c. cold heavy cream or crème fraiche
sugar to taste, perhaps ¼ c.
a little dribble of vanilla extract, perhaps 1 t.
You may add a dribble of any complimentary liqueur, too.

Method:

Add the cream or crème fraiche, the sugar and the vanilla to a cold metal bowl.

Whip the cream or crème fraiche until soft peaks form.

Homemade Cultured Butter Pressed with a Hand-carved Butter Mold

Laura — Tue, 01 Mar 2011 17:26:26 +0000

My Norwegian grandfather had something of a love affair with butter; he loved a pool in which to cook an egg or some hash, or a thick smear on toast. But mostly, it was his tableside companion at every home-cooked dinner I can remember eating with him, and he was not shy with it. A dinnertime ritual, stick of soft butter at his side, he would take a swipe of butter for his roll, cloverleaf or farmhouse, a drag through the gravy, pheasant or duck, and pop the mouthful into his gob, happy as a lad. He ate the better part of the stick. I always had the chair next to him, and I can remember being acutely aware of the butter, the generous sweep, his mouth full of butter, and another dip, and another, the roll disappearing, and the butter stick a little smaller with every bite. He would have loved this recipe.

I haven’t made butter since I was a schoolgirl, and I can remember the first time I did quite vividly. We shook little jars filled with cream until it separated into butter and buttermilk, and I was spellbound. It’s funny, really, the small moments that we remember. I can tell you the rules around the graham crackers and milk we ate at nursery school, about the details of the first fig cookie I ever ate, too.

I was ordering some cookie molds last month, to use next Christmas, when I saw this butter mold. It was so charming, and brought back memories of the excitement of making that butter. Gene Wilson hand-carves each of his beautiful wooden molds, and they are quite simple to use. I highly recommend them. Their details are lovely.

You could make butter by simply separating cream in a food processor, or even in a jar shaken vigorously. But I decided to try cultured butter after seeing it on the Playing With Fire and Water blog. There are excellent step-by-step photos of the process on Chef Linda’s blog. Cultured butter is made by introducing a culture, here the live culture in buttermilk, and by ripening the cream. Culturing creates a subtle flavor profile which intensifies the taste of the butter and creates a lovely, creamy mouthfeel. As it has a higher percentage of butterfat and no added water, it ideal for pastry such as laminated doughs. Of course, I think it’s ideal on a piece of toast or a stack of hot pancakes, too. I think I’ll make some tomorrow! Mmmm.

Note: These photographs are unaltered. I used Cedar Summit Farms’ incredible cream, and the resulting butter really is this lovely soft yellow.

Cultured Butter
Adapted from the Playing With Fire and Water blog
Yield: about one cup of butter and two cups of buttermilk

Ingredients:
3 c. heavy cream (not ultrapasteurized) (I love Cedar Summit Farms.)
1 c. buttermilk with live cultures

Method:
Day one:

Pour the cream and buttermilk into a medium bowl and cover loosely with a draped piece of aluminum foil.

Let the cream sit at room temperature until thickened, about 12 to 24 hours

Day two:

Cover the bowl tightly with cellophane and refrigerate for 8-12 hours.

Day three:

Chill the bowl and blade of a food processor in the refrigerator for an hour.

In the bowl of a food processor, process the cream until the butter separates from the buttermilk. Pay close attention to the process, and stop as soon as you see the buttermilk separate.

Separate the butter from the buttermilk by pouring it through a fine-mesh strainer placed over a medium bowl.

Fill a large bowl with ice and water.

In a medium bowl, place one cup of ice-cold water and the butter. Press the butter to remove as much buttermilk as possible.

Pour off the milky water and replace it with another cup of ice-cold water.

Continue this process until the butter is creamy and the water is increasingly clear.

Pour off the last of the water.

With a wooden spoon or paddle, work the butter in a folding motion until it is smooth and creamy.

Place the butter on several layers of cheesecloth or an immaculately clean and tightly woven kitchen towel. Press the butter once or twice.

Your butter is ready to be used or molded. It will keep in the refrigerator for about five days.

Butter Mold Tips

To mold the butter in a hand-carved wooden mold, place the mold into the freezer for 30 minutes.

Line a shallow container or a very small bowl with cellophane. I used a glass dessert cup.

Press the butter into the container and press the mold into the butter.

Refrigerate or freeze the butter and mold for about 30 minutes.

Using the point of a sharp knife, pry the mold from the butter.

Remove the butter from the container and pull away the cellophane. You may smooth any rough edges with a knife warmed under hot water.

Fennel & Almond Pound Cake with Sambuca Syrup

Laura — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 20:51:14 +0000

I used to love that little pinch of fennel seed and rainbow-colored licorice candy as I paid the check at our favorite Indian restaurant. Rory Gilmore ruined it for me with her, well, I’ve posted it below for those willing to risk never being able to enjoy his or her little pinch again.
…
From The Gilmore Girls
Mother and daughter Lorelai and Rory Gilmore discuss the progress of Rory’s date…
Lorelai: So the guy’s a dud?
Rory: Trevor’s fine, I’m moronic, I bring the conversation to a crashing halt every time I speak.
Lorelai: Where is he now?
Rory: In the bathroom, probably pondering my brilliant anecdote about urine mints…
Lorelai: What?
Rory: You know, when people go to the bathroom and they don’t wash their hands and they come out and take a mint.
Lorelai: [gasp] Oh my God, I’ve been eating those mints for years!

(See what I mean?)
…
I love all things licorice, so I always looked forward to it. I suppose I could go out and buy myself a box of Good & Plenty, but I never have. And I never buy licorice either, don’t know why. My Dear Husband has a theory about time and place and the pleasure of serendipity. We didn’t grow up in the digital age, so if you missed the A Charlie Brown Christmas because you were naughty or because your mom talked too long at church on Wednesday night (ugh), it was over. Over. You had to wait a year to see it again. Today, you could pull out your DVD copy and watch it any night, and, sadly, it’s not quite as magical anymore for just this reason. Stumble on something, or wait for it, and it’s imbued with a little magic. So, even though I knew that I could always have that little pinch of candy every time we went out for Indian, it was still a taste I had to wait for, and one made special by time and place. My Dear Husband still throws back a handful at the little hostess desk, but I just can’t. (Did you read the scene? You know it’s true.) Well, I was sipping a little glass of sambuca recently, the Italian anise-flavored liqueur, thinking about how madly in love with licorice I really am, when it occurred to me to drown a pound cake in the stuff (not really). The beauty of the Indian candy is the pairing of the fennel seed with the licorice, so I decided to grind some fennel seed for the cake. Ooh, it’s good. (Little dance here.) Now I (and you) can enjoy a slice of this cake, which has its own little bit of magic: dreaming it up, making it myself, and remembering the seven years my now-all-grown-up Honey Girl and I watched Gilmore Girls together.

Pound Cake Tips
This pound cake recipe does not include a leavening agent, such as baking soda or baking powder, which acts to make cakes rise as they bake. Beating air into the butter and sugar creates volume, but it takes time. The butter and sugar will be nearly white when ready and very fluffy. This takes perhaps five to ten minutes depending on the power of your mixer.

Don’t be afraid to really poke this cake all over, and spoon the syrup over it very, very slowly so that it soaks in.

Inexpensive kitchen scales are available now at discount stores such as Target. If you’re on the fence about buying one, take the plunge. Whenever you have the option to weigh your ingredients for baking, your final product will be better. Totally worth the $20.00!

When I use my kitchen scale, I like to place a sheet of waxed paper or parchment paper in the bowl. Lift two or three of the corners and easily transfer ingredients to your mixing bowl. No need to clean up between ingredients in the scale, too.

If you don’t want to bother making the sambuca syrup, just pour two shots of sambuca over each cake. Yummy, too, just a little stronger.

Fennel & Almond Pound Cake with Sambuca Syrup
Yield: two loaves

Ingredients:
1 pound of unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 pound of sugar
2 T. fennel seed, ground finely in a mortar and pestle or in a dedicated spice grinder
1 pound of eggs
a pinch of salt
2 t. almond extract
1 pound of all purpose flour (I prefer King Arthur.)

Method:

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Prepare two standard loaf pans by buttering them generously and dusting them with flour. (I use the butter wrappers to grease the pans.)

In an electric mixer, cream the butter, the sugar, and the ground fennel seed on high speed until they are very light and fluffy. Scrape down the bowl frequently.

Add the eggs, one at a time, beating between additions. Scrape down the bowl frequently.

Add the almond extract and mix.

Add the flour and salt and mix gently until it is just incorporated.

Divide the batter into your two pans and bake for 55 minutes, or until a toothpick pressed into the center of a loaf comes out clean.

While the cake bakes, stir up the syrup.

Allow the cakes to cool slightly. Then remove them from their pans by running a knife around the edge and inverting the pan gently into your towel-covered hand. Place the cakes on a cooling rack over waxed paper or a paper bag.

While the cakes are still warm, poke them all over with a toothpick or wooden skewer and pour the syrup slowly over the cakes.

Sambuca Syrup

Ingredients:
¼ c. sugar
¼ c. water
4 shots sambuca

Method:

Bring the sugar and water to a simmer in a small saucepan.

Remove from the heat and stir in the sambuca.

Kouign Amann

Laura — Wed, 16 Feb 2011 22:12:12 +0000

I don’t know whether to write a love poem to the Breton people, to David Lebovitz, or to kouign amann itself. Oh, I love you, all three of you! I have been daydreaming about a homemade kouign amann since I found out this week that a long lost friend from childhood has been living in France for the last 13 years. And then I found, serendipitously, that David Lebovitz, of pastry cheffing blogging book fame, had posted recently about kouign amann and had done the homework on perfecting a home recipe for them. (Curtsy now to David.)

Kouign amann, pronounced quinn ahmahn, means butter cake in the Breton language. It is a laminated dough laced with sugar and baked until it emerges from the oven, gloriously caramelized. If you’ve made Danish pastry, it’s a snap. If you’ve never made a laminated dough before, don’t be intimidated. It’s not difficult, it just requires that you set aside a morning or an afternoon to wait while it rises and rests between turns. And, let’s face it, the messiest attempts at laminated dough are pretty spectacularly delicious. Nom nom. Give it a try.

Kouign Amann Tips
Lamination is a baking term that refers to creating layers of pastry and butter. Butter is enclosed in an envelope of pastry. When the pastry is rolled and folded repeatedly, a process referred to as turns, it creates layers which rise during the baking process. Lamination is used to create puff pastry, Danish pastry, and croissants.

David recommends French butter. I used Plugra European-style butter with happy results. He also recommends adding some additional grains of coarse salt to the butter. It helps to approximate the flavor of Breton salted butter.

To knead dough, grasp the dough with your fist and press it down and away from you with the heel of your hand. Lift the dough and continue this motion, grabbing the dough, and pressing it away from you. The dough will become increasingly smooth and elastic.

David recommends keeping a bench or pastry scraper nearby in case your dough sticks to your countertop as you’re working. A bench scraper is basically the culinary version of a paint scraper. If you have one of those, and it’s immaculately clean, use it here in lieu of a bench scraper.

If you’re looking for a warm place in your home in which to rest dough, consider a closet through which a heating duct runs. A high shelf in such a closet is a very toasty place.

I used a 10-inch springform pan, which I wrapped tightly in aluminum foil. I placed it on a foil-lined baking sheet, as well.

Kouign Amann
From David Lebovitz
Yield: about eight to ten buttery servings

Ingredients:
1 T. dry yeast (not rapid rise)
¾ c. tepid water
2 c. all purpose flour (I prefer King Arthur.)
½ t. salt
1 c. sugar, divided, plus additional for rolling the pastry
½ c. salted European-style butter, such as Plugra, cut into ½ “ pieces and chilled
2 to 3 T. salted European-style butter, melted

Method:

In a medium bowl, stir together the yeast and the water with a pinch of sugar. Let the yeast rest until it blooms and becomes foamy, about 10 minutes.

Slowly add the flour and salt, stirring to combine. You are aiming for a soft dough that is not too sticky. If the dough is quite sticky, add a tablespoon of flour at a time until it is workable.

Dust your countertop lightly with flour and transfer the dough.

Knead the dough until it is smooth, about 3 minutes.

Brush a medium bowl with butter and place the dough in the bowl. Cover it and place it in a warm place for an hour.

Lightly dust your countertop with flour again and roll out the dough into a large rectangle 12” x 18,” short sides to your right and left.

Scatter the slices of butter across the pastry and sprinkle the dough with ¼ c. of the sugar.

Fold the short sides of the pastry in to the center, as you would fold a brochure.

Sprinkle the dough with sugar again and fold it as you would a brochure once again.

Wrap a plate in cellophane and place the dough on it. Refrigerate the pastry for one hour.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and sprinkle your countertop liberally with sugar. Place the dough on the sugar and top it with another ¼ c. of sugar.

Roll it into a large rectangle again.

Fold it as you would a brochure again, in thirds with short ends towards the center, and allow it to rest for another hour in the refrigerator.

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees F (220 degrees C) and brush a 9” pie plate with melted butter.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and roll it into a circle about 9” in diameter.

Use a bench scraper or two spatulas to transfer the dough to the pie plate.

Sprinkle the dough with ¼ c. sugar and 1 T. melted butter.

Bake 40 to 45 minutes, or until the pastry is deep golden brown.

Allow the finished cake to rest briefly. Then run a knife around the edge of the pan and transfer the cake to a cooling rack.

Rose Water, Hibiscus, & Dark Cocoa Macarons with Rose Water and Hibiscus White Chocolate Ganaches

Laura — Mon, 07 Feb 2011 20:04:03 +0000

My Sweet Boy’s lovely girlfriend Taylor is over to bake today, and we are taking on macarons. We’ve had to hearten ourselves along through a string of failures—macarons are notoriously temperamental—but we are having fun, and spending six hours together on them has been an unexpected and happy surprise. We’re on batch four now this afternoon, with fingers crossed. They may not be camera perfect, but they are tasty, and I think that’s what matters most. I think after a few more batches, we’ll be macaron pros. I’m including recipes for three of the variations we made, plus all of the little tricks that helped us transition from total failure to pretty-as-a-picture. If you have to pick just one to make, my favorite are the dark cocoa with hibiscus white chocolate ganache.

Macaron Tips
Former pastry chef, blogger, and macaron guru Helene Dujardin of tarteletteblog.com was kind enough to email to me her authoritative article on the art of macarons. I missed a few hints skimming the article (yes, haste makes waste), so here they are in a bullet form, which I hope will be helpful. You may link to a macaron tutorial on her site here.

Ageing your egg whites seems to be an important step. Separate your eggs three to four days before baking and keep them in the refrigerator. Alternately, microwave your egg whites for about 15 to 20 seconds before using them. We had relative success without taking this step, and I imagine our macarons will be that much closer to perfection if we use this tip when we next make them.

You can pick up an inexpensive scale for under twenty dollars at convenience stores like Target. Link

If you purchase blanched almonds rather than almond flour for this recipe, grind them in a food processor and then add the confectioners’ sugar. Sift the mixture to ensure that there aren’t any almond pieces.

Helene recommends avoiding bargain brands of confectioners’ sugar, as they may contain higher percentages of cornstarch.

The folding is the key step in this recipe, and the challenging part. Over mix and your macarons will flop. Under mix and they will puff and crack and be unsightly. Helene suggests that you begin folding rather quickly to begin to break down the mixture. In our most successful batch, I gave perhaps ten quick strokes and then slowed dramatically. The batter should remain fairly lofty. As soon as it is beginning to yield and soften slightly, slow down to a stroke-by-stroke evaluation. Helene’s test is to place a small amount on a plate, and if the top flattens by itself, it’s ready. I found that I was still overbeating. The tops will remain in a soft peak, but will appear like they will fall with resting. Err on the side of under folding, and coax any little peaks down with a finger.

If you don’t have piping bags, simply use a large plastic storage bag. Fill it, seal it, and snip off the tip. When you use it, twist the bag at the top and hold it tightly. Use a little pressure at the top of the batter or ganache to pipe.

If you’re using a proper piping bag, a large tip about ½ inch in diameter is perfect for the macarons. A small round tip works well for piping the ganache.

The macarons should peel easily from the parchment. If they are sticking, pop them into the oven for another minute.

Macarons
From Helene Dujardin’s tarteletteblog.com
Yield: about 16 macarons

Ingredients:
100 grams aged egg whites, or about 3 ½ egg whites from large eggs
50 grams white sugar
200 grams confectioners’ sugar
110 grams almond flour or ground blanched almonds

Method:

Place the egg whites into the bowl of an electric mixer and mix until they are foamy.

Gradually add the sugar.

Beat until you have a glossy meringue and until the meringue doesn’t move when you invert the bowl.

In a small bowl, stir together the confectioner’s sugar and the almond flour or ground almonds.

Fold the almond sugar mixture into the meringue. See tips above.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and pipe the batter into small rounds about 1 ½ inches in diameter about 1 to 2 inches apart.

Tap the sheets a few times to release any air bubbles in the cookies.

Allow the macarons to dry for an hour. Preheat your oven to 300 degrees.

Bake the macarons for ten to twelve minutes.

Allow them to cool for about 10 to 15 minutes. Then remove them from the parchment.

When they are completely cool, pipe ganache filling onto half of the macarons and sandwich them together with the remaining macarons.

For Rose Water Macarons, add a small dribble of rose water and two drops pink food coloring to the egg whites.
For Hibiscus Macarons, add about 1 t. of ground, dried hibiscus flowers to the almond flour mixture. You may grind the flowers using a mortar and pestle or in a dedicated coffee grinder.
For Dark Cocoa Macarons, add 3 heaping T. double Dutch dark cocoa powder to the almond flour mixture.

White Chocolate Ganache
From Helene Dujardin’s tarteletteblog.com
Yield: about enough to fill two batches of macarons

Ingredients:
1 ½ c. white chocolate (I used E. Guittard pure white chocolate.)
½ c. heavy cream (I love Cedar Summit Farms.)

Method:

Heat the cream in a small saucepan over low heat.

Add the chocolate and stir until it is melted and smooth.

Allow the ganache to cool in the refrigerator until it is a piping consistency.

For Rose Water White Chocolate Ganache add a small dribble of rose water and one drop pink food coloring to the cream.
For Hibiscus White Chocolate Ganache add about 1 t. ground dried hibiscus flowers to the cream.

Bostock

Laura — Wed, 02 Feb 2011 15:58:37 +0000

When my Honey Girl was home for her long winter break, we went to Rustica, our favorite bakery in Minneapolis. If you’re ever in Minnesota, it’s a must-stop, the kind of place that makes you wake up, shake a bit, and utter your equivalent of Jenkies. This is a bakery with some serious magic; the pastry is so good that it could stand toe to toe with many Parisian pâtisseries. I have some vivid taste memories from a trip to Paris last spring, and I don’t think I’m exaggerating. I was at Rustica again tonight, without her and missing her, and remembering the bostock we shared the last time we were there. Since it was a Tuesday, the day they make loaves of brioche, I decided to buy one and to recreate bostock at home. A little chat with the counter girl revealed that Rustica soaks slices of stale brioche in a simple syrup flavored with orange flower water and bakes them, then tops them with frangipane and bakes them a second time. The bostock my Honey Girl and I had was quite dry, in fact it was dry all the way through, drier than a homemade biscotti. We loved dunking it into our coffees, but we mused together that if we ever made our own version at home, we would soak, top, and bake just once in the hopes of a creamy-on-the-inside-toasty-on-the-outside bostock. Straight from the oven this morning, oh my goodness it’s good. The interior is almost custardy and it’s faintly perfumed by the orange flower water and vanilla bean. The golden frangipane is rich. And the brioche, well, what toasts better than butter-rich brioche? Here is my version. I only wish my Honey Girl were here to share it with me.

Bostock Tips
If you would like to make this in the morning, the night before set out a loaf of brioche so that it will become stale. Then make the simple syrup and refrigerate it overnight. In the morning, slice the brioche, make the frangipane, and assemble and bake the bostock. It took me about 25 minutes from start to finish.

Bostock

Ingredients:
1 recipe orange flower water simple syrup (recipe below)
1 recipe frangipane (recipe below)
thick slices of stale brioche, as many as you would like to serve
a little butter for the pan

Method:

Butter a sheet pan and preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Dunk the slices of brioche in the simple syrup and squeeze out the excess.

Spread the brioche with a nice layer of the frangipane.

Bake for about 15 minutes, or until the tops are golden brown.

Serve warm, perhaps with a dusting of powdered sugar and some toasted sliced almonds.

Orange Flower Water Simple Syrup
Yield: enough for perhaps a dozen slices of brioche

Ingredients:
1 c. sugar
1 c. water
a dribble of orange flower water to taste
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise

Method:

Bring the water and sugar to a boil, stirring until the sugar is dissolved.

Remove from the heat and add the vanilla bean and the orange flower water.

Cool to room temperature.

The remaining syrup may be stored in the refrigerator. Use it to flavor drinks, perhaps an orange flower water iced tea or a margarita made with orange liqueur, lime juice, the syrup, and tequila.

Frangipane
Yield: enough for perhaps a dozen slices of brioche

Ingredients:
7 ounces fresh, soft almond paste
½ c. unsalted butter, softened
1 t. vanilla extract
1 egg
¼ c. all purpose flour

Method:

Place all of the ingredients into the bowl of a food processor and mix until well combined and smooth.

The remaining frangipane may be stored in the refrigerator. Use it in a tart or Danish pastry.

Sugar Cakes

Laura — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 13:44:24 +0000

I first made these big, delicate sugar cookies for a candidate meet-and-greet a few years ago. The event was a success, but from the cookies’ perspective it was kind of a disaster. My wonderfully feisty friend Bonnie had asked if I would make some cookies for the event, so I made ten kinds. I delivered the cookies early in the day and came back toward the end of the event. There sat the enormous cookie tray, as big as a wagon wheel, virtually untouched. I was happy that the political chatter was so engaging that they had gone unnoticed, but I was a little disappointed for the cookies’ sake. As I began packing them all up, a few people asked about them—first about where I had bought them, and then about how I had gotten them to look so perfect It’s that kind of recipe. And they are rather perfect looking—perfectly round, perfectly puffed and sugared, and pretty in a prim way with their dainty little raisin. Among the ten kinds I made, these were a standout. They are a truly soft sugar cookie, with just a little crackle from their sugar tops, the slightest toasty edge, and a lovely flavor with plenty of vanilla, a hint of bright lemon zest, and rich sour cream. I shared these with my Kaffeeklatch this afterrnoon. Make them, share them—or keep them for yourself—and add them to your list of keepers.

Music for baking sugar cakes
Where the Earth is Round by Minnesota native Ann Reed

Sugar Cakes Tips
Making this recipe has reminded me of an important lesson, namely, the importance of recipe notes. I usually scribble notes whenever I cook or bake so that I’ll remember what I did. I think that since I was in a baking frenzy when I made these the first time, I didn’t make my usual notes, except to dash “delicious and pretty” at the top of the page. The second time around was not quite as perfect. So…I don’t recommend buttering your baking sheets. I believe I used parchment the first time around and I followed the recipe this time. The butter browned and spattered all over many of the cookies. They still taste nice, in fact they have a little brown butter thing going on, but they aren’t very pretty.

I found that there is no need to continue to chill the dough between rolling batches and no need to grease your hands when you roll them.

Sugar Cakes
From Nancy Baggett’s excellent The All American Cookie Book
Yield: two dozen saucer-sized cookies

Ingredients:
3 1/3 c. all purpose flour
½ t. baking soda
½ t. cream of tartar
½ t. salt
1 ¼ c. (2 ½ sticks) unsalted butter, slightly softened
1 2/3 c. sugar
1 ½ t. finely grated lemon zest
2 large eggs
2 ½ t. vanilla extract
1 c. sour cream
3 to 4 T. sugar for topping the cookies
about 20 raisins for topping the cookies

Method:

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, cream of tartar, and salt; set aside.

In another large bowl, with an electric mixer on medium speed, beat together the butter, sugar, and lemon zest until light and well blended.

Add the eggs and vanilla and beat until very smooth and fluffy.

Beat in the sour cream, then the dry ingredients, until evenly incorporated. It’s all right if the dough seems too sticky; it will firm up when chilled.

Freeze the dough until thoroughly chilled and firm, and least three hours or overnight. If necessary, allow the dough to warm up slightly before using, but it is easier to work with when very cold.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Grease several baking sheets.

Working with about a third of the dough at a time and keeping the remaining dough chilled, divide into seven or eight portions.

With well greased hands, shape and roll the portions into balls.

Transfer the balls to baking sheets, spacing about three to 3 ¼ inches apart.

Let the balls stand to soften just slightly. Then grease the bottom of a large, flat, wide-bottomed glass with vegetable oil.

Dip the glass bottom into a shallow saucer containing the sugar, shaking off the excess. One at a time, press down on the balls with the glass until they are about three inches in diameter, dipping into the sugar before flattening each cookie. (If necessary, wipe buildup from the glass bottom, oil again, dip into the sugar, and continue.)

Press a raisin into the center of each cookie.

Bake the cookies one sheet at a time, in the upper third of the oven for eight to 11 minutes, until just tinged with brown at the edges and barely firm in the centers; for very moist cookies, be careful not to overbake.

Reverse the sheet from front to back halfway through baking to ensure even browning.

Transfer the sheet to a wire rack and let stand until the cookies firm up slightly, one to two minutes.

Using a spatula, transfer the cookies to a wire racks. Let stand until completely cooled.

Store in an airtight container for up to one week or freeze for up to one month.