Are you a cobbler or a crisper?

The Ingredient: A basket of bruised nectarines verging on greatness or a slow compost demise (such a fine line, really).

The Challenge: To transform these diamonds in the rough into something worthy of sharing a bowl with the Madagascar Vanilla Bean ice cream in your freezer.

The Question: Do you cobble or crisp?



For me, the decision between cobbler and crisp is fruit-dependent. Having spent the better part of my teenage years consuming a weekly (or more) dose of apple crisp and vanilla ice cream, the thought of apples in anything but a crisp evokes a severe case of cognitive dissonance. But hand me some peaches or -- in this case -- nectarines, and a cobbler I am.

Simple Nectarine Cobbler

8 small nectarines, sliced into thin wedges
3 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 teaspoons cornstarch
cinnamon, to taste

1 cup flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup boiling water

Preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.

In a 9-inch square baking pan or 2-quart baking dish, toss sliced nectarines with sugar, lemon juice and cornstarch. Sprinkle with cinnamon. Bake for 10 minutes.

In the meantime, whip up the cobbler topping. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. Using a pastry blender, blend in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Stir in the boiling water just until combined. The batter will be quite thick, but should still be moist. Add additional water if necessary, but be careful not to overmix.

Remove the nectarines from the oven and drop spoonfuls of the cobbler batter on top. The batter will expand a bit as it bakes.

Bake until topping is golden brown (about 25 minutes).

Notes: Serve warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Best eaten the first day when the cobbler topping still has its crunch intact.

Source: The Casual Baker.

SHF32: craving chocolate and red fruit

After taking a moment to re-visit the recipes posted on The Casual Baker, it occurred to me that I blog portable baking more often than not. Cookies, bars, muffins: anything easily wrapped in plastic and tucked inside a brownbag lunch without fear of demolition. (Of course, as with any rule, there are always exceptions.)

But when the Domestic Goddess announced cravings as the theme of this month’s Sugar High Friday, part of her explanation inspired me to leave the Tupperware in the cupboard and get fancy with an eat-in only creation:

What dessert always catches your eye on a menu in a restaurant and you've had it made by a thousand different people but never made it yourself?

When the dessert menu makes its way around to me in a restaurant (as it often does), I inevitably gravitate towards the chocolate desserts. It’s rarely the triple chocolate on chocolate option that catches my eye, but rather a dark chocolate cake or mousse with a trace of red fruit.

To satisfy my craving for the flavours of chocolate and red fruit at home, I whipped up a light chocolate cake with a rich red currant-infused fudge sauce. Baked in a silicone muffin mould with the fudge sauce on the bottom, these cupcakes essentially frost themselves when you release them top-side down.

Red Currant Fudge Pudding Cakes

Fudge Sauce:

1 ½ ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
¼ cup red currant jelly
¼ cup whipping cream

Cakes:

¼ cup boiling water
3 tablespoons cocoa
2 tablespoons whipping cream
¼ teaspoon vanilla
3 tablespoons red currant jelly
¼ cup butter
3 tablespoons brown sugar
3 tablespoons sugar
1 egg
½ cup flour
½ teaspoon baking soda, scant
pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease 6 cups of a silicone muffin mould.

To prepare the fudge sauce, bring the chopped chocolate, jelly and cream to a simmer in a small heavy saucepan. Stir occasionally until smooth. Pour the sauce evenly between the 6 greased muffin cups.

To prepare the cake batter, beat the butter and sugars until light and fluffy in a large bowl. Add the egg and beat well.

In a second bowl, measure out the cocoa powder and jam. Pour the boiling water on top and whisk until smooth. Add the milk and vanilla and whisk again until smooth.

In a third bowl, combine the flour, baking soda and salt.

Add one-third of the flour mixture to the butter/sugar/egg mixture and mix. Add one-half of the cocoa mixture to the butter/sugar/egg mixture and mix. Repeat these two steps. Finish with the remaining one-third of the flour mixture and mix until smooth.

Pour the batter evenly into the muffin cups, on top of the fudge sauce. Bake for about 15 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean (or nearly clean, given that the fudge sauce on the bottom will still be liquid). Remove from oven and cool in the pan for about 10-15 minutes.

In one swift motion, turn the muffin mould upside down over a platter or other flat surface and carefully pop out the individual pudding cakes. If any fudge sauce remains in the cups, don’t let it go to waste. Spoon it over the cakes or directly into your mouth!

Yields 6 small pudding cakes.

Notes: Serve warm – fresh from the oven or reheated – with a scoop of ice cream or dollop of whipped cream and a garnish of mint and fresh red currants. If red currants aren’t what you crave, try a raspberry jelly and fresh raspberry garnish instead.

Source: Based on a recipe for Warm Chocolate Raspberry Pudding Cake from Epicurious, which was originally published in Gourmet in January 1999.

A problem that starts with "f" and ends in "lour"

I've been meaning to blog this for awhile, if nothing more than as a warning to any faithful readers who attempt the recipes posted here on The Casual Baker. For a number of reasons, the move across the pond has reduced my baking activity.

With freshly baked everything two steps in every direction, there's simply less demand for home-baked goodies. But this is only part of the story, since anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I ardently subscribe to the "bake it and they will come" theory of a supply-driven market.

Then there's the previously mentioned challenge of working in a small, poorly equipped kitchen. But with the addition of a metric scale, a set of hand-crank beaters and a new oven, the situation is improving.

Finally we come to the availability of ingredients. On this front, I've done pretty well. Sulphured molasses? Just cut it with honey to take off the edge. Can't find buttermilk? Take your pick of substitutes in the longest dairy aisle you'll ever find. When all else fails, have your nearest and dearest bring/send you the hard-to-find tidbits in a care package.

But take away my all-purpose flour, my friends, and we've got a problem.

It seems that the difference between flour and farine extends beyond mere linguistics. Those in the know say it has something to do with protein levels, the ash content and the fineness of the milling. As a baker, I just know that the texture of my batters and finished baking is off, but in a way I can't quite place.

The best advice I've found is in a post called American Baking in Paris by David Lebovitz. Unfortunately I've found only partial success with his suggestion of using Type 65 flour and still find myself having to add additional flour over and above what the recipe calls for in order to keep my cookies from uniting against me.

So what does this mean for you? Well I do my best to provide measurements for North American flour, but don't hesitate to document your experiences with the recipes in the comments section. Why not start with a batch of Chocolate Chunk Gingerbread Cookies to see how I'm doing.

Chocolate Chunk Gingerbread Cookies

2 1/2 - 2 3/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons ginger
10 tablespoons butter, softened
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1/4 cup unsulphured molasses (or 2 tablespoons each of sulphured molasses and honey)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 ounces dark chocolate

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and line baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a medium bowl, mix 2 1/2 cups of flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, ginger and cinnamon. Chop the chocolate into small chunks and set aside.

In a large bowl, beat the butter, sugar and brown sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs and mix. Add the molasses, honey and vanilla and mix again.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients in two batches, each time mixing just until combined. At this point, the batter should be sufficiently thick that you are able to handle it with your hands (add the additional 1/4 cup of flour if necessary). Stir in the chocolate chunks.

Shape the dough into rough balls using about 2 tablespoons of batter for each. Place balls on baking sheet and flatten slightly with a floured hand or fork.

Bake until lightly golden on top and firm around the edge (about 12-15 minutes).

Source: Adapted from a Country Living recipe for Chocolate Molasses Cookies.

Ode to a KitchenAid mixer

(in haiku)

The whisk beats slowly
My arm tires, I pause, and know
No meringue tonight.



Thank goodness for boulangeries.

Summer in a glass

April, with her sunny skies and hot, humid temperatures, fooled me into believing that summer arrives early in Paris.

May left me cold with her grey days and rainy nights.

June seems in the mood for redemption, so I thought I’d show my support with a bit of summer reminiscing.

The deck at our old Oak Street apartment in Ottawa was the backdrop for many of my best memories of the season. Waffle breakfasts, with maple syrup from the Abbott homestead in Orillia and fresh local berries from the Byward Market, taken leisurely with a cup of Monk’s Blend tea on the weekends. An after-work BBQ of grilled Alberta beef and roasted veggies, enjoyed with a glass of Argentine Malbec and a setting sun. Or, best of all, a deckful of friends jammed around the green plastic patio table (the unluckiest one stuck with the backless stool) piling their burgers high with condiments and their cobs of corn even higher with butter.

Here in Paris, we don’t have a deck, or a BBQ, or friends for that matter. But that didn’t stop us from capturing the spirit of summer in a glass with a delicious parfait.

A range of flavours, textures and colours stacked artfully in layers, a good parfait should look (almost) as good as it tastes.

Key Lime Pie Parfaits

½ cup lime juice, freshly squeezed
¼ cup sugar 

¼ teaspoon lime zest

2 eggs 

1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk 

1 ½ cups crème fraîche
icing sugar, to taste
1 cup Speculoo* crumbs 


To prepare the lime custard, stir together the lime juice, sugar, lime zest, eggs and sweetened condensed milk in the top of a double boiler. Over simmering water, cook the mixture until it thickens, stirring constantly.

Remove from heat and place the pan in a large bowl filled with ice until the mixtures comes to room temperature, stirring occasionally.

In the meantime, crush your Speculoos into crumbs and small bits inside a heavy duty Ziploc bag. In a small bowl, mix the crème fraîche and icing sugar, to taste. (Depending on the “cream” product you’re using or your preferences, you can omit the icing sugar.)

In a clear glass, layer the lime custard, cream and cookie crumbs in a pattern of your choosing. Prepare the parfaits just before serving to ensure the crumb layer keeps its crunch.

Serves 6, depending on the size of your glass.

* Speculoos are a crunchy spice cookie that pop up just about everywhere I go these days. For some history, see this post on Chocolate and Zucchini.

Note: This recipe is ripe for substitutions. For the crumb layer, I’ve tried crushed graham crackers and gingersnap cookies, both with tasty results. The cream layer is your chance to amp up or tone down the richness, using anything from Cool Whip (if petroleum byproducts are your thing) to whipped cream.

Source: Adapted from Cooking Light, August 2004.

Whole wheat pancake mix (guest post)

With Father's Day in just a few weeks, what better time for W. to share his pancake memories as the Casual Baker's first guest blogger.

Enjoy!

The Casual Baker

********************************

I've always liked pancakes! I remember sitting in my high chair eating morsels of pancakes that my Mother had put on the tray in front of me ......ok, I just made that up, I don't remember that! But I do remember our Mother delivering them hot from the frying pan to our plates, either regular or German potato pancakes. There was never a "stack" made in advance. They were eaten with some kind of homemade "Mapeline" syrup.

Later in life, and after the passing of my first wife, I found pancakes made a quick and easy supper, and they soon became exclusively an evening meal, too tasty and delectable to be served for breakfast! And the 2 or 3 leftover pancakes were always fed to Brandy and Mojo, the farm dogs. They too loved pancakes but were forced to perform for each piece of broken pancake. Brandy stood on her hind legs to gently take the piece from one's fingers, while Mojo did a quick roll-over on his back to receive his. Or they sat obediently and caught carefully tossed pieces in their mouths. I've never known an intelligent dog that didn't like pancakes!

When Mother and Dad retired from the farm to Edmonton and we stopped for an unexpected afternoon visit, I'd often ask Mother (now known as Grandma L.) to make pancakes for the supper meal. She cheerfully obliged and never consulted any recipe or even a measuring cup or spoon. When the first batch (probably two or three) were in the frying pan, she'd say to Dad (now known as Grandpa L.), "Daddy, you better pray now, the pancakes are almost ready!" Not that the pancakes needed prayer, for they were always fluffy and golden and 3.5 inches in diameter! And there in Edmonton, the pancake meal got a new addition...applesauce!

Grandpa and Grandma had a hardy and prolific apple tree in their back yard. It gave them a bountiful crop of 3/4-size tart, flavourful, pink-fleshed apples every year, resulting in vast quantities of applesauce stored in their freezer. Now that I think about it, they added applesauce to almost every meal (perhaps that was the secret to their long and healthy lives!) But applesauce and pancakes do go together remarkably well!

"Have some more!" Grandpa would say, partly encouraging, partly an order! Grandpa L. loved pancakes! And Postum (with milk) was most often the choice of a hot beverage with the meal, pancakes, Roger's Golden syrup, and applesauce! (Postum is an instant cereal beverage with no caffeine made from wheat bran, wheat, molasses and corn dextrin, made by Kraft General Foods Canada. It has probably lost 95% of its '50's popularity, but you can still get it!)

So try an evening meal of pancakes made from scratch! You could use a cast iron frying pan, about a 1/2 teaspoon canola oil between batches and a setting about medium or slightly less. You'll soon find the right setting .....turn them when a good number of bubbles appear on the batter surface, probably about 2 minutes. A large mixing spoonful of batter makes about a 5-inch pancake. Make one of these at a time or 2 or 3 smaller, 1/2-spoonful size. We like Canadian maple syrup or Roger's golden and J. likes Maine wild blueberry syrup from the U. S.! You can use any combination of the above together with our preference, MacIntosh applesauce! We occasionally serve a piece of hot farmer or Mennonite sausage alongside. And yes, I like Postum too, but I can get by with coffee, if Postum isn't available!

Pancake Mix

4 cups flour
2 cups whole wheat flour
1 tablespoon salt
6 tablespoons sugar
6 tablespoons baking powder

In a large bowl, combine flours, salt, sugar and baking powder. Store in an airtight container in your cupboard.

To Use

2 eggs
1 cup milk (or more)
2 tablespoons canola oil
1 1/2 cups pancake mix

In a bowl, beat the eggs well. Add milk and oil and mix together well. Stir in pancake mix.

Makes about 12 pancakes.

Note: Half the recipe for one person, unless you're really hungry or a pancake lover or own a fair-sized dog!

Source: "Make-Your-Own Pancake Mix" from the More-With-Less Mennonite cookbook.