The Casual Baker

Classic carrot cake

2012-01-24T21:30:00.000+01:00

Baked on a Friday evening, iced between macchiatos Saturday afternoon and lit for January birthdays Saturday night. Not the last one; the one before that.

That's my speed these days: looooong baking, quickeating, slooooow blogging.

Carrot Cake with Orange Cream Cheese Frosting

Cake:

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
3/4 teaspoon salt
3 cups of grated carrots
1 cup chopped walnuts, toasted
1 cup sweetened, shredded coconut
1/4 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated

zest of half an orange (you'll use the rest in the frosting)
1 cup + 2 tablespoons canola oil

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup of demerara sugar
4 eggs

Frosting:

500 grams (2 packages) full-fat cream cheese

1 1/2 cups unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

zest of half an orange (see, what did I tell you?)

680 grams icing sugar

Preheat your oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease three 9-inch round baking pans, line the bottoms with parchment paper, grease the parchment paper, then dust the pans with flour. Set aside.

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

In a second medium bowl, stir together the grated carrots, toasted walnuts, coconut, fresh ginger and orange zest. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat the oil and sugars on medium-high speed for 5 minutes, until the mixture is smooth and light. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition.

Add the dry ingredients, mixing just until incorporated. Stir in the add-ins (carrots, walnuts, etc.)

Divide the batter evenly between the three prepared cake pans. Bake for 35-40 minutes (Tara's took just 25-30 minutes, but my thicker layers needed more time) until a toothpick inserted into the centre comes out clean.

Cool the cakes in their pans on a wire rack for 10 minutes, then flip them out to cool completely before frosting.

To prepare the frosting, beat the cream cheese, butter, vanilla and orange zest in a large bowl. Add the icing sugar and beat until smooth. Frost!

Source: This cake over at Seven Spoons, minus the raisins, in three layers instead of four, with orange-zested frosting.

Epiphany

2012-01-15T21:30:00.000+01:00

Last Sunday, R. and I had a few friends over for galette des Rois. Originally a culinary marker of the Epiphany, a Christian holiday that celebrates the Magi's visit to the baby Jesus, our galette des Rois was more a small-e epiphany of the epicurean variety.

We were first introduced to galettes des Rois a few years ago, in Paris, when they started popping up in bakeries all over the city in early January. But king cakes, as they're called in English, have a rich and varied history around the world. In keeping with northern French convention, I filled two discs of puff pastry with rich almond paste—a homemade crème d'amande rather than the usual frangipane—to make a cake of sorts. Lacking a porcelain figurine and finding only small white beans in my pantry, I used a whole almond for the all-important fève (more on that here).

Pastries like this one aren't normally my first pick of desserts, but the tradition's timing won me over. It was a chance to revisit puff pastry while my new year enthusiasm for ambitious baking projects is still intact and an excuse to gather friends for a little fun before the post-Christmas doldrums set in.

And, wouldn't you know it, I drew the fève. Happy new year to me.

Galette des Rois

500 grams all-butter puff pastry
1 porcelain trinket, dried bean or whole almond

Crème d'amande:
125 grams unsalted butter, softened
125 grams white sugar
130 grams finely ground almonds
8 grams cornstarch
pinch of salt
2 eggs
1 tablespoon rum or Grand Marnier
drop of almond extract

Egg wash and glaze:
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon icing sugar

Several hours before you plan to construct and bake your galette des Rois, prepare the crème d'amande. In a medium bowl, beat the butter until creamy. In a separate bowl, whisk together the sugar, ground almonds, cornstarch and salt.

Add the dry ingredients to the butter and mix until smooth. Beat in the almond extract and liquor, followed by the eggs, one at a time. Cover and refrigerate for several hours or overnight.

When you're ready to construct the galette, prepare the egg wash by whisking together the egg yolk and 1 tablespoon water. Set aside.

Divide the pastry into two equal balls. Roll the first ball out into a circle that measures at least 30 centimetres in diameter, then trim to tidy. Repeat with the second ball, creating a slightly larger circle (approximately 31 centimetres in diameter).

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and place the smaller of the two pastry circles on top. Brush the outer 1-inch of the circle with egg wash, careful not to wet the edge of the dough.

Spoon the crème d'amande in the centre and spread it evenly within the egg wash ring. Place the porcelain trinket, dried bean or almond on top, near the outer edge, pressing it lightly so that it's even with the top of the filling.

Lay the second, slightly larger, pastry circle on top. Smooth it over the top of the crème d'amande to eliminate any air bubbles, then press the edges together to seal.

Use the back of a knife—the dull side—to draw a decorative pattern on top. Lightly brush the top of the galette with egg wash. Poke five holes in the top, one in the centre and four evenly spaced near the outer edge, to ensure an even rise.

Chill the prepared galette for at least one hour.

Preheat your oven to 360 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake the galette for 30 minutes until puffy and golden (mine took closer to 45 minutes).

In the final few minutes of baking, mix together 1 tablespoon of icing sugar and 1 tablespoon of hot water. Brush the nearly baked galette with the glaze and return it to the oven for a few more minutes.

Remove the galette from the oven and place the pan on a wire rack. The puff pastry will settle as it cools.

Serve slightly warm or at room temperature, according to the conventions described by Clotilde.

Sources: Homemade galette des Rois on Chocolate & Zucchini and classic puff pastry on Not Without Salt.

Note: The puff pastry recipe will make roughly double the amount of pastry you need for one galette.

Turning cakes + priorities upside down in 2012

2012-01-07T23:30:00.000+01:00

And here we are in 2012. I'd wish you a happy new year, but it's feels a bit after the fact already. I spent the past week writing our new year's postcards, an annual tradition that has become Starbott's trademark answer to the rest of the world's Christmas cards. There is something deeply unsatisfying about all of those holiday greetings crossing paths in postal systems around the world: all declaration, no conversation. This way, we can actually respond to people's messages and provide (what I hope is) a bright spot in the otherwise disappointing mail month that is January.

I also spent the past week thinking about a theme for the new year. It's not that I'm against resolutions per se, but a theme is a more useful tool for guiding decisions all year long. Sort of like a compass to keep you headed in the right direction, regardless of what comes your way. 2010 was my first full year freelancing full-time, so my theme was "say yes"—to taking on new clients, pitching new publications, baking for more than hobby. 2010 was a good year. So good, in fact, that my theme in 2011 was along the lines of "it's OK to say no."

So where does that leave me this year?Well, I've noticed that blogging and other more creative writing projects consistently fall to the bottom of my to-do list. They make the list, but in a purely superficial sense, occupying roughly the same space as cleaning behind the oven or hanging those pictures we got framed last January.

In 2012, I'm going to turn things—my to-do list, in particular—on their head(s?). Grammar aside, I think turning things upside down just might be the way to start living right-side up.

"It’s not enough to be busy, so are the ants. The question is, what are we busy about?"
– Henry David Thoreau

p.s. Good news! I'm already putting my theme to work. My first act of to-do list defiance? Writing this post instead of dealing with Mount Dishmore in the kitchen.

How we started years past on The Casual Baker:
Croissants in 2011
Peanut Butter Blondies in 2010
Polka Dot Pumpkin Muffins in 2009
Brioche aux Pralines in 2008
Gingerbread Men in 2007

Cranberry Upside-Down Cake

Caramel:
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
2 1/2 cups frozen cranberries, rinsed and patted dry

Cake:
1 1/2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
zest of one orange (optional)
1/4 cup orange juice
1/4 cup milk

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Begin by preparing the caramel. Melt the butter in a well-seasoned 10-inch cast-iron skillet over medium heat. Add the brown sugar and simmer for four minutes, stirring constantly. Remove the pan from the heat and quickly arrange the cranberries in a single layer on top of the caramel. Set aside.

Now, get started on the cake batter. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt. In a second bowl, beat the butter until light and fluffy. Gradually add the sugar, followed by the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla and orange zest (if using).

Add half of the flour mixture and beat just until combined. Mix in the orange juice and milk, followed by the rest of the flour mixture.

Spread the batter carefully and evenly over the cranberry/caramel mixture, right up to the edges of the skillet. Don't be alarmed if the cranberries have started to melt and a bit of water has begun pooling around the edges. Spoon off a little bit of the water if you're able/worried, but know that my cake turned out just fine.

Bake the cake for 45 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Let the cake cool in the skillet for 5 minutes before attempting the big flip.

For the moment of truth, invert a plate over the skillet and press them firmly together. Say a quick prayer, then flip the two, so that the plate is on the bottom and the skillet is upside down. Slowly lift the skillet and reattach any stray cranberries/errant caramel to the top of the cake.

Serve warm.

Source: A cranberry riff on this pineapple upside-down cake over at Smitten Kitchen, which originally came from the February 2000 issue of Gourmet.

Peppermint patties

2011-12-22T10:00:00.000+01:00

'Scuse the overexposed Instagram, please. Consider it proof that everything looks particularly hideous under the glare of under-cabinet lights. Unless you're super organized, Christmas treat-making is just not conducive to pretty pictures for blogging. Butter and sugar is flying at all hours of the day in this here candy factory, with many finished projects emerging long after the sun has set.

Peppermint patties have been on my list of confections to try for ages. I've long been a fan of the Cadbury Pep and, to a lesser extent, Junior Mints, so a homemade version was a no-brainer. What stopped me all of these years was the chocolate dipping. Everything I've ever dipped in chocolate has been a hideous disaster. These were a half exception. Thanks to a dying candy thermometer battery, my attempt at tempering the chocolate failed miserably. So, the smooth, glossy stars you see above morphed into a dull, speckled grey overnight. Taste-wise, however, these peppermint patties were spot on.

Members of my family will be finding short stacks of peppermint stars in their stockings this year, along with variations on:

Chocolate Fudge (Fine Cooking)
Coffee Toffee (Smitten Kitchen)
Pretzel & Nut Mix (David Lebovitz.com)

Peppermint Patties
2 1/2 cups icing sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons light corn syrup
1 1/2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon peppermint extract
1 tablespoon vegetable shortening
pinch of salt
10 ounces bittersweet chocolate (or coating chocolate), coarsely chopped

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and set it aside.

In a small bowl, combine 2 1/4 cups of icing sugar with the corn syrup, water, peppermint extract, shortening and a pinch of salt. Using an electric mixer, beat on medium speed just until combined.

Dust your counter with the remaining 1/4 cup of icing sugar. Turn the dough out onto the counter and knead until smooth.

Roll the dough out between two sheets of parchment paper into a 7- or 8-inch round (less than 1/4-inch thick). Freeze until firm (about 20 minutes).

Remove the top sheet of paper and sprinkle the round with icing sugar. Replace the top sheet, flip the round over and repeat the process on the other side.

Use a small cookie cutter (roughly 1-inch in diameter) to cut as many shapes as possible, transferring the cutouts to the prepared cookie sheet. Freeze the shapes until firm (about 15 minutes). Meanwhile, gather the scraps, re-roll and freeze the dough, and then cut out more shapes to chill.

While the shapes are hanging out in the freezer, temper the 10 ounces of chocolate by following the instructions at the Epicurious.com link below or by using another approach that has worked well for you in the past. Or, if you're scared and/or willing to sacrifice a little on taste, avoid the tempering process and use coating chocolate instead.

Balance a frozen peppermint cutout on a fork and completely submerge it in the melted chocolate. Lift it up and let the excess chocolate drip off, scraping the back of the fork against the rim of the bowl if necessary. Return the coated cutout to the parchment-lined cookie sheet. Repeat. Let the coated cutouts stand until the chocolate has set.

Store chilled, layered between sheets of parchment paper in an airtight container, for up to 1 month. Bring to room temperature before serving.

Source: Epicurious.com, originally published in Gourmet in December 2007.

Notes: I doubled the quantity of peppermint extract, from 1/2 teaspoon to 1 teaspoon, and made stars instead of rounds.

Cinnamon-frosted pumpkin rolls

2011-12-10T00:00:00.001+01:00

I'm here to make your Sunday morning awesome, but it involves you doing a bit of work before bed on Saturday night. You in?

What about now?

That's what I thought.

Cinnamon-Frosted Pumpkin Rolls

Dough:
1/4 cup warm water (about 110 degrees Fahrenheit)
2 1/4 teaspoons quick-rise yeast
1/3 cup milk
1 egg, beaten
3/4 cup pumpkin puree
1 tablespoon melted butter
3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/4 teaspoon cardamom

Filling:
1/2 cup butter
2/3 cup white sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon cloves

Frosting:
115 grams cream cheese
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 teaspoon vanilla
3/4 teaspoon lemon juice
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
2-3 cups icing sugar

On Saturday evening, combine the warm water and yeast. Let sit for 5 minutes, until the mixture begins to foam. Meanwhile, grease a 9 x 13-inch pan (I like to use Pyrex) and set it aside.

Stir in the milk, egg, pumpkin puree, melted butter, 1 1/4 cups of flour, brown sugar, salt, cinnamon, ginger and cardamom. Beat vigorously for 2 minutes.

Slowly add the remaining 2 cups of flour, a little at a time, until the dough is stiff enough to knead. Alright, get kneading and don't stop until you have a smooth, elastic dough that bounces back when poked. (A blissful Sunday morning and a workout, rolled into one. What more could you possibly want from me?)

Place the dough in a greased bowl, turning to coat the entire ball of dough with oil/butter/grease of your choice. Cover the bowl with a damp tea towel and let rise in a warm spot until the dough has doubled in size (about 1 hour).

Meanwhile, get cracking on that filling. In a small bowl, whisk together the white and brown sugars, cinnamon, allspice, ginger, nutmeg and cloves. Set side.

When the dough is ready, gently roll it out into a 16 x 12-inch rectangle. Spread the softened butter evenly over the dough and sprinkle the sugar/spice mixture on top.

Beginning at one of the long edges of your rectangle, roll the dough into a log. When you get to the end, pinch the dough along the length of the log to seal the sugar/spice mixture inside.

Using a sharp knife, slice the log into 15 slices. Remember that pan you greased earlier. Find it again and place each slice, swirl side up, in the pan (5 evenly spaced rows of 3, or 3 evenly spaced rows of 5—same difference).

Almost there...

Cover the pan with plastic wrap, put it in the refrigerator and breathe a sigh of relief before heading off to bed.

On Sunday morning, before you hop in the shower, pour your orange juice or even turn on the coffee machine, take your pumpkin rolls, cream cheese and butter out of the refrigerator.

Remove the plastic wrap from the pan, cover the rolls with a tea towel and move them to a warm place while you get ready for the day. Oh, and start preheating your oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit while you're at it. Just leave that cream cheese and butter on the counter for now.

Go about your business—dressing and the like. Ready?

OK, remove the towel, toss the pan in the oven and bake for 25-30 minutes until the rolls are golden.

While that's going on, beat together the cream cheese and (hopefully soft) butter. Add the vanilla, lemon juice and cinnamon, then 2 cups of icing sugar. Continue adding icing sugar until the desired consistency is reached.

When your pumpkin rolls are done, remove them from the oven.Think about letting them cool, but decide against it. Ice them immediately, then watch as frosting puddles form. Burn your tongue. Shrug your shoulders. That's what Sundays are for.

Source: Adapted slightly from GoodLife Eats.

Pumpkin cake with brown butter frosting

2011-12-05T15:27:00.000+01:00

Hoo boy. I don't know what your November was like, but mine came and went in a flash. Clearly. All I have to show for it is one measly blog post. I would be feeling more sheepish except one of the main reasons for my lacklustre blogging performance was a project I've been meaning to do for a few years now, something on my Things-That-Never-Get-Done-But-Really-Should list. Yes, for better or worse, I'm back to lists. And yes, for better or worse, that list really exists.

Checking something off the TTNGDBRS list is about 100 times more gratifying than checking something off my usual to-do list—and the satisfaction sticks around much longer. It makes me want to stand up straighter, speak like I know what I'm talking about and tackle the next TTNGDBRS. Almost.

While I'm working on that, you can get started on this pumpkin cake. It's a single layer (perfect for the workweek), but frosted (a little pre-holiday panache). If you want to kick things up one more notch, then get candying those walnuts too.

Back later this week with another pumpkin treat that's perfect for a lazy (and preferably snowy) weekend morning.

Pumpkin Cake with Brown Butter Frosting

Cake:
1/2 cup salted butter, at room temperature
1 2/3 cups flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 large eggs
1 cup pumpkin puree
1/2 cup warm milk

Frosting:
4 tablespoons salted butter
1 cup icing sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1-2 tablespoons milk

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and line a 9-inch round pan with parchment paper, then re-grease and flour the pan. Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, salt, baking powder and baking soda. Set aside.

In a second bowl, beat the butter and sugar until light and fluffy (about 2 minutes). Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add the pumpkin puree and milk and beat until smooth. Add the flour mixture, mixing just until combined.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean (about 55 minutes). Transfer the cake to a wire rack to cool for 20 minutes.

Carefully loosen the cake from the pan and flip it out onto the wire rack to cook completely before frosting.

To prepare the frosting, melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook until the butter is nut-brown in color (about 10 minutes). Pour the browned butter into a bowl, leaving any burned bits behind.

Add the icing sugar, vanilla and 1 tablespoon of milk. Stir until smooth. If the frosting is too thick, add the remaining tablespoon of milk, a little at a time, until the mixture is spreadable. Let the mixture cool for 5 minutes, then frost your cake already!

Source: Martha Stewart, via Shutterbean. Adapted ever so slightly.

Notes: I started to get nervous when Tracy from Shutterbean said, "The icing is a snap to work with. There's not a lot of it. That's ok! You don't really need much." Hold the phone. I like frosting, so I made 1.5 times what the recipe calls for above.

Bourbon apple tarts

2011-11-14T20:53:00.008+01:00

I'm into pie—and not writing—right now. In a major way.

This pie's easy. Get into it with me.

Bourbon Apple Tarts

Your favourite pastry, enough for top and bottom

Filling:
6 Granny Smith apples, peeled & diced (about 2lbs or 0.9kg)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 tablespoons bourbon
1/4 cup water

Egg Wash:
1 egg
1 teaspoon water
coarse sugar (optional)

In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the apples and sauté for about 3 minutes. Add the salt, sugars and cinnamon. Mix well and cook for 5 more minutes.

In a small bowl, combine the water, cornstarch and vanilla. Add the mixture to the apples and stir in quickly.

Lower the heat and simmer for 15-20 minutes or until the apples become tender and caramelized. Stir in the bourbon and briefly bring to a boil to burn off the alcohol. Remove from heat and let the mixture cool completely.

When you're ready for pie, preheat your oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit and line a large baking sheet(s) with parchment paper. Set aside.

In a small bowl, prepare the egg wash by whisking together the egg and water. Set aside for later.

Divide the pastry into 4 or 6 equal balls. Roll the first ball into a rough circle and transfer it to a parchment-lined baking sheet. Spoon 1/4 of the filling (or 1/6, depending on how many tarts you're making) into the centre of the pastry circle, leaving a 2-inch border all the way around.

Choose a spot and begin folding the edges into the centre, overlapping with your past folds as you go, until you arrive back where you started. A circle of filling will still be visible on top.

Brush the pastry carefully with egg wash and sprinkle generously with sugar. Repeat with the rest of the pastry.

Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown. Serve warm with ice cream or ginger-cinnamon whipped cream.

Yields 4-6 tarts.

Source: A boozy take on a recipe posted over at Food Is Luv.

Spooktacular* spider web cookies

2011-10-31T22:59:00.002+01:00

When it comes to holidays, I don't get into the spirit as much as I could. I start out with reasonably good intentions, but my interest wanes quickly when I realize time and effort are involved.

So, Hallowe'en 2011. I didn't dress up, but I carved a pumpkin, baked spider web cookies and...have a black cat? Given my history, I'm chalking this one up as a win.

* In the words of J-Bo.

Sources: Chocolate Sugar Cookies over at Annie's Eats and my recipe for Royal Icing.

Molasses olive oil sandwich bread

2011-10-22T07:13:00.020+02:00

Bread tends to come and go with the seasons around here, all but disappearing during the summer only to return triumphantly in autumn—a bit like a bear in reverse hibernation. A few years ago, I launched my quest for the perfect loaf of homemade bread. After veering off course significantly and often, I concluded (unsurprisingly) that there is no such thing as the perfect loaf, but rather a perfect loaf for every occasion.

Although late to the party, I (like most before me) was a quick devotee of Jim Lahey's no-knead bread. All knobby crust and big air pockets, it's the perfect loaf for dipping in oil and vinegar or scooping up the last bit of chili con carne at the bottom of your bowl. In fact, for about two years, I hadn't looked back.

But after eating so many white-bread jamon y queso sandwiches in Ecuador and Peru (I swear it's the official snack food of the continent), I found myself craving the soft, pillowy sandwiches of my elementary school days: less chew, more stick to the top of your mouth-edness. Clinging to that idea, I reviewed what I knew and set out to make it better.

The result? Ham and cheese sandwiches all week.

Molasses Olive Oil Sandwich Bread

Dough:
1 cup warm water
1 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast
2 tablespoons molasses
2 1/2-3 cups whole-wheat flour
1 tablespoon sugar + a healthy pinch
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup olive oil

Egg wash:
1 egg white
1 teaspoon water
2 tablespoons rolled oats, old-fashioned

In a small bowl, stir together the yeast, a pinch of sugar and 3/4 cup of warm water. Let stand until foamy (about 5 minutes).

In a measuring cup, whisk together the remaining 1/4 cup of warm water and molasses.

In a large bowl, mix together the sugar, salt and olive oil and 1 cup of flour. Add the molasses and yeast mixtures, stirring well. Stir in enough of the remaining 1 1/2-2 cups of flour, 1/2 cup at a time, for the mixture to form a soft dough.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface. Knead for 8 minutes, or until smooth and elastic. Shape into a ball.

Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled bowl, turning to coat. Let it rise, covered, in a warm place until doubled in size (about 1 hour). Punch the dough down and let it rise, covered, 45 minutes more.

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease a loaf pan and set it aside.

Lightly knead the dough and then shape it into an oval. Transfer the loaf to the pan and let it rise, covered with a kitchen towel, for 45 minutes.

Brush the top of the loaf lightly with egg wash and sprinkle with rolled oats.

Bake in the middle of the oven for 10 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and bake for 20 to 25 minutes more, until golden brown. Turn the loaf out onto a rack to cool.

Yields 1 loaf.

Source: Adapted from Whole Wheat Bread Hayes at Epicurious.com, originally published in Gourmet, December 1996.

A time to hunker down and eat doughnuts

2011-10-10T01:32:00.004+02:00

"It's like I've never been here before," R. remarked as we headed home after a night of Vancouver International Film Festival documentaries. It wasn't the case, of course. At that precise moment, we were walking down a stretch of street that we've traveled hundreds—maybe even thousands—of times before. The funny thing is I knew exactly what he meant.

When we left for South America in early September, summer had found its groove. After hitting the snooze button one too many times, the sun had finally sat up, stretched her arms, rubbed her eyes and taken a good look around. Life was on the up and up: our tomato plants were pumping out scarlet fruit faster than we could eat it, sandals had claimed their rightful place at the front of the coat closet, and week-night trips to Dairy Queen were a regular occurrence.

When we returned three weeks later, the air was still warm but there were tell-tale signs of a subtle shift in our absence. Umber leaves lined the sidewalk and the pungent smell of earth signaled a recent rain. I left dreaming of juicy peaches eaten over the sink and came back contemplating my first spiced apple crisp.

I can't say I'm sad though. Autumn has always been my favourite. It's like the new year for us Peter Pan types: a time for reinventions and fresh starts, a time to hunker down and sink your teeth into big projects.

Like doughnuts.

Doughnuts seem way more daunting than they actually are, which makes them a great place to start. And, since you're already going to the trouble of deep-frying, why not make two kinds?

Chocolate Cake Doughnuts
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup superfine sugar
2 tablespoons butter
1 egg
1/2 cup whole milk, scalded
1 teaspoon vanilla

Peanut oil for frying

Whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, salt and sugar in a large bowl. Add the butter and, using an electric mixer, blend until the mixture resembles coarse sand.

In another bowl, whisk together the egg, milk and vanilla. Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients slowly, mixing as you go. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and then beat for 30 seconds. The batter should be smooth, thick and not too wet. Let the dough rest for 15-20 minutes.

Old-Fashioned Sour Cream Doughnuts
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
pinch of salt
1/3 cup superfine sugar
1/4 cup sour cream (I used some Greek yogurt I had kicking around)
1 large egg
1 tablespoon butter

Peanut oil for frying

Whisk together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt in a large bowl.

In another bowl, whisk together the sugar, sour cream, egg and butter until smooth.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients a little at a time until a smooth dough forms. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate the batter for 15-20 minutes.

To fry the doughnuts, heat at least 2 inches of oil in a heavy-bottomed pot until the temperature reaches 360 degrees Fahrenheit.

Roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface to 1/2-inch thick. Cut out the doughnuts. Fry for 1-2 minutes per side, or until light golden brown.

Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on a paper towel. Cool slightly before glazing.

Chocolate Glaze
1 1/2 cups icing sugar
4 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tablespoons milk
2 teaspoons vanilla

Measure the icing sugar into a medium bowl. Slowly stir in the milk and vanilla, a little at a time, to make a smooth, pourable glaze.

Lemon Glaze
1 1/2 cups icing sugar
4 tablespoons lemon juice

Measure the icing sugar into a medium bowl. Slowly stir in the lemon juice, a little at a time, to make a smooth, pourable glaze.

To frost the doughnuts, either dip them in the glaze or use a silicon brush to lightly coat their tops.

Notes & Source: For even more doughnut recipes—including baked variations—and tips and tricks for making Tim Horton's a distant memory, I highly recommend Lara Ferroni's doughnut-making bible, Doughnuts.

Cocoa banana bread

2011-09-01T22:17:00.003+02:00

If all goes as planned, this time next week, I'll be scaling the earthen terraces of Machu Picchu in Peru.

In my absence, I urge you to make this cocoa banana bread. If you slice and stack it just so, and squint your eyes a bit, you'll have your own miniature Machu Picchu—with far less effort.

Cocoa Banana Bread
2 cups flour
1 cup cocoa powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar
2 eggs
3 small ripe bananas, mashed
3/4 cup milk

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and line a loaf pan with parchment paper, then set it aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sifted cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

In a second bowl, beat the butter on medium speed until soft. Add the sugars and beat for 2 more minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well between each addition.

Reduce the mixer speed to low and mix in the mashed banana.

Add half the dry ingredients and mix. Add the milk and mix. Add the rest of the dry ingredients and mix just until combined.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top with a spatula.

Bake for 30 minutes. Cover the loaf loosely with foil, and return to the oven for an additional 40-45 minutes (or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean).

Transfer the pan to a rack and cool for at least 20 minutes before unmoulding the loaf and cooling it completely.

Source: Adapted from Joy the Baker.

Brownie ice cream sandwiches

2011-08-23T23:59:00.006+02:00

Tomorrow night, we won't be eating these.

Instead, we'll be hand cranking homemade ice cream with friends at the fifth semi-annual Summerscream, which began as a backyard bash in Ottawa in 2005 and has evolved into an in-condo affair (the tomato plants have overtaken the balcony) in Vancouver in 2011. Last year, we expanded from one ice cream maker to two. And, if this year's yes list is any indication, we might be looking for a third (not to mention a backyard) in 2012.

It's our first time holding Summerscream mid-week, so I've been plugging away at the preparations bit by bit in the evenings: sauces yesterday, ice cream batters today, toasted toppings tomorrow. In the meantime, we've been eating homemade ice cream sandwiches with store-bought ice cream. Technically speaking, it's probably not a homemade ice cream sandwich unless the ice cream is homemade too, but I dare you to care.

He sure didn't.

Brownie Ice Cream Sandwiches

Tops and bottoms:
Let's talk pet peeves briefly. One of mine is when people insist on making ice cream sandwiches with regular cookies. They look amazing until you try to take a bite: the cookie goes one way (your mouth) and the ice cream goes the other (your hand, and eventually down your arm). Thankfully, there is a tasty solution: brownies.

I used this cocoa brownie recipe posted by Ashley over at Not Without Salt. To make the brownies thinner—and more ice cream sandwich-friendly—I baked them in a 9x13-inch pan.

Filling:
Ever the traditionalist, I used vanilla ice cream. That being said, you could use any flavour of ice cream, gelato, sherbet or sorbet, provided that it freezes fairly solid.

I'm (not so) secretly hoping there will be chocolate sherbet left over from tomorrow's Summerscream so that I can give that a go between blondies in what I'm calling (as of now) a reverse ice cream sandwich.

Tool:
Someone (was it you?) gave me a set of William Sonoma ice cream sandwich presses a few years ago. This one looks kind of nifty though and would eliminate brownie scraps. Not that brownie scraps are a huge problem.

Sour cherry pie

2011-08-17T22:02:00.002+02:00

The votes have been tallied and the results are in: sour cherry pie it is.

Of course, this particular sour cherry pie was baked so long ago that I could barely remember how it tasted. Ever the fastidious blogger (ha!), I decided to re-create the dessert hoping to re-capture what had me so enthused about it in the first place.

Earlier this week proved to be the perfect opportunity. One of my cousins was married this past Saturday, and my brother and sister came to town for the festivities: an afternoon ceremony in a local park, followed by a few games of 5-pin at the Grandview Lanes, capped off with an Indian feast and dancing at the Legion.

A smaller crowd gathered for the post-wedding BBQ/re-hash at my uncle's on Sunday; an even smaller contingent was privy to the post-post-wedding pie at our place on Monday.

The thing about cherry pie is that it's kind of a pain—sour cherries can be tricky to find and cherries of any kind must be painstakingly pitted—but shortcuts inevitably lead to disappointment.

The solution, of course, is to invest the time and make sure every last bite ends up only in the most deserving/discerning of mouths. Mission accomplished.

Sour Cherry Pie

Your favourite pastry, enough for top and bottom

Filling:
1-1/4 cups sugar
1/3 cup quick-cooking tapioca
2 tablespoons corn starch
1 tablespoon cocoa
1 teaspoon cinnamon
5 cups pitted sour cherries*
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon almond extract

2 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small pieces

Egg wash:
1 egg
1 teaspoon water
Coarse sugar (optional)

* About 2 1/2 pounds, or just over 1 kilogram, of unpitted cherries should do the trick. If you're working with frozen cherries, be sure to thaw and drain them before pitting.

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

Whisk together the sugar, tapioca, corn starch, cocoa and cinnamon in a large bowl. Add the pitted cherries, vanilla and almond extract, tossing gently to combine. Set the mixture aside while you roll out the pastry.

Once you've lined your pie plate with pastry and rolled out the top, prepare your egg wash by whisking together the egg and water. Now let's put this pie together.

Spoon the filling into the pie shell, including the liquid that has pooled at the bottom of the bowl. Unless your cherries are particularly juicy, we've got the thickening part covered.

Now dot the top of the filling with cold butter, brush the rim with egg wash and cover it all with another layer of pastry. Seal and finish the edges of the pie as you like, making sure to add a few venting slits on top. Brush with the remaining egg wash and sprinkle with coarse sugar.

Place the pie plate on a cookie sheet. Why? Because I personally guarantee this will happen:

Bake for 45-60 minutes until the top is golden brown, then cool in a window like they do in the storybooks.

Source: The Casual Baker

Now what?

2011-08-12T23:33:00.002+02:00

I've been baking all sorts of good things lately, but doing a miserable job of keeping my New Year's non-resolution to share something weekly. At first, I was overjoyed at having options; now, I'm just overwhelmed.

I saw that eye roll. First-world problem, you say?
No kidding, but it's the only kind I've got.

So help me decide what comes next.

It's not you, it's me

2011-07-23T23:30:00.002+02:00

Are we close enough that I can be straight with you?

I didn't love this cake. I loved the name of the cake (chocolate tweed angel food cake), the idea of the cake, the photo of the cake in Rose Levy Beranbaum's lovely cookbook—but not the cake itself. How's that for an introduction?

Wait, before you go, let me explain. Chocolate tweed angel food cake wasn't my thing, but maybe it's yours. The recipe's great and, if you follow it to the letter, you too will arrive at a fluffy white cake speckled with chocolate and decked out in chocolate-almond tweed.

I think people who like cream puffs (ugh), for example, would be fans of this cake. Yeah, I could see that happening. Me? I just wanted to scrape off the whipped cream frosting, dump something fruity and flavourful—like strawberries—on top, and call it a shortcake.

Mmmm. Shortcake.

Chocolate Tweed Angel Food Cake

Cake:
1 1/2 cups superfine sugar (or regular sugar whizzed in a food processor)
1 cup cake flour, sifted into the cup and leveled off
1/4 teaspoon salt
16 large egg whites, at room temperature (~2 cups)
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
4 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chilled and finely grated, then refrigerated

Chocolate-Spangled Whipped Cream:
2 cups whipping cream
2 tablespoons superfine sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
5 ounces semi-sweet chocolate, chilled and finely grated, then refrigerated
1/2 cup finely ground almonds, preferably toasted before grinding

Find a 10-inch (16-cup) two-piece metal tube pan and something that you can invert the pan on once the cake is cooked (e.g., a glass or wine bottle that can either hold or fit inside the centre of the pan). Or maybe your pan will have built-in pieces to prop the cake on its head, like this one. In any case, get it together.

Move your oven rack to the lower third of the oven and preheat to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

In a small bowl, whisk together half the sugar, the flour and the salt. Sift the remaining sugar onto a piece of wax paper.

In a large bowl, beat the egg whites on medium speed until foamy. Add the cream of tartar. Raise the mixer speed to medium-high and beat until soft peaks form when the beater is raised. Gradually beat in the sifted sugar and continue beating on medium-high speed until very stiff peaks form when the beater is raised slowly. Beat in the vanilla until combined.

Lightly sprinkle the flour mixture over the beaten egg whites, 1/4 cup at a time. Use a large balloon whisk or silicone spatula to fold in the flour mixture quickly but gently. Fold in the grated chocolate until evenly incorporated.

Spread a thin layer of batter onto the sides of the ungreased pan to help ensure a smooth surface, then empty the rest of the batter into the pan. Run a knife through the batter to prevent air pockets and then smooth the top.

Bake the cake for 30-40 minutes, or until golden brown, a wire cake tester inserted between the tube and the side comes out clean, and the cake springs back when lightly pressed in the centre. Don't be alarmed if the cake rises, then sinks, and ends up with deep cracks on top.

Remove the cake from the oven and immediately turn it upside down, as described above. Cool completely in the pan (about 1 1/2 hours). Carefully loosen the cake from the pan and allow it to sit at room temperature until the top is no longer tacky.

You can store the cake, covered, for up to 3 days at room temperature or 10 days in the refrigerator.

For the frosting, whip the cream and sugar in a large bowl on low speed. Gradually increase the speed to medium-high as the mixture thickens. When you begin to see the traces of beater marks, add the vanilla. Continue whipping until the cream mounds softly when dropped from a spoon. Gently fold in the chocolate and almonds with a silicone spatula.

Rose recommends slicing the cake into 3 layers, with frosting between each and covering the cake. I went with 2 layers instead.

Source: Rose's Heavenly Cakes by Rose Levy Beranbaum.

Sun tea & thyme syrup

2011-07-08T16:55:00.003+02:00

Without fail, the first thing I do every morning when I sit down at the computer is check the weather. You would think I must live and die by the state of the sky, but nothing could be further from the truth.

I don't work outside. I'm not a landscaper, who spends my days roasting under a hot sun or shrinking away from raindrops under a Gore-Tex hood.

I'm not a farmer, crossing my fingers for moisture, then heat, and hoping that hailstorm misses my wheat.

I don't trade in weather derivatives. The number of days the temperature rises above 18 degrees Celsius, and how high it goes, has little impact on my life, let alone my bottom line.

In fact, I don't even go outside to go to work. My office is a little space behind the kitchen and beside the laundry room. Sometimes, because our condo is on the warm-ish side, I wear shorts to work in the winter.

No, I check the weather every day purely out of habit.
And so I know when to make sun tea.

Sun Tea
4 cups cold water
4 tea bags (I used Earl Grey)

Thyme Syrup
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup water
4-5 sprigs of thyme

To prepare the sun tea, pour the cold water into a clear glass container. Add the tea bags, dunking them a few times to ensure they don't simply float on top. Cover the container and place it in direct sunlight for 4 hours—or until the desired potency is reached. Brew it a little stronger than you might normally to account for ice later on. Store the finished tea, covered, in the refrigerator.

To prepare the syrup, combine the sugar, water and thyme in a small saucepan. Heat over medium heat, uncovered, until the sugar dissolves and the mixture boils. Turn the burner off and cover the pan. Let the mixture sit for several hours—or until the desired potency is reached. Discard the thyme and store the syrup, covered, in the refrigerator. This recipe makes more than enough syrup for the amount of sun tea above, but I find the syrup holds up better than the tea over time.

To serve, pour a pitcher or glass of sun tea, and add ice and syrup to taste. Toss in a few fresh sprigs of thyme or slices of citrus, or keep it simple. Your choice.

Strawberry rhubarb pie

2011-06-22T20:38:00.003+02:00

As I was flipping through my photos, it struck me that this pie is a bit like Vancouver right now [well, Vancouver two days ago when I started writing this post]: seasonally confused.

On one hand, we have rhubarb and strawberries, a pink partnership that screams! summer! and begs for an à la mode chill. But dig a little deeper and you'll find your taste buds heading in a completely different direction—namely Christmas—with wintry flavours like cinnamon, cloves and allspice.

One minute you're envisioning a glass of raspberry lemonade on your imaginary porch, the next you'd be down with a fireside hot toddy.

Cognitive dissonance at its most delicious.

Exhibit A:

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

Your favourite pastry, enough for top and bottom

Filling:
600 grams rhubarb, sliced 1.5 centimetres thick (about 4 cups)
500 grams strawberries, hulled and sliced 1.5 centimetres thick (about 2-1/2 cups)
1-1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup plus 1-1/2 tablespoons quick-cooking tapioca
2 tablespoons fresh orange juice
1 teaspoon finely grated orange zest
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small pieces

Egg wash:
1 egg
1 teaspoon water
Coarse sugar (optional)

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

In a large bowl, gently toss the rhubarb, strawberries, sugar, tapioca, orange juice, orange zest, cinnamon, cloves, allspice and salt. Set the mixture aside while you roll out the pastry.

Once you've lined your pie plate with pastry and rolled out the top, prepare your egg wash by whisking together the egg and water. Now let's put this pie together.

Spoon the filling into the pie shell. Avoid the heartbreak that is soupy pie by leaving that juice that's puddled at the bottom of the bowl behind. Don't think too hard about it or you'll make a bad decision (see exhibit A).

Now dot the top of the filling with cold butter, brush the rim with egg wash and cover it all with another layer of pastry. Seal and finish the edges of the pie as you like.

Mark the top with SR, brush with the remaining egg wash and sprinkle with coarse sugar.

Place the pie plate on a cookie sheet and bake for 70-80 minutes until golden brown.

Sources: The filling is a metric adaptation of Fine Cooking's Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie. The pastry is Pim's perfect pie dough.

Chocolate raspberry pavlova

2011-06-12T22:29:00.003+02:00

There are any number of reasons to be enamoured with pavlova. Perhaps you like the crunch of the meringue or how it melts on your tongue.

Maybe you're a sucker for the lightly sweetened clouds of whipped cream or the burst of fresh fruit.

What makes pavlova particularly spectacular to me is how the parts come together. Think about whipped cream for a second. There's nothing earth-shattering about a forkful on its own, but spear a berry and a splinter of meringue at the same time and you just may feel the ground give way.

Chocolate Raspberry Pavlova

Meringue:
6 egg whites
300 grams caster (berry) sugar
3 tablespoons cocoa powder, sifted
1 teaspoon balsamic or red wine vinegar
50 grams dark chocolate, finely chopped

Topping:
500 mL whipping cream
500 grams raspberries
2-3 tablespoons grated dark chocolate

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.

In a large bowl, beat the egg whites until satiny peaks form.

Beat in the sugar, one spoonful at a time, until the meringue is stiff and shiny.

Using a spatula, gently fold in the cocoa, vinegar and chopped chocolate.

Mound the meringue onto the baking sheet in a fat circle (about 23 centimetres, or 9 inches, in diameter) or 10 smaller circles. Smooth the sides and top(s), as needed.

Place in the oven and immediately turn the temperature down to 300 degrees Fahrenheit. Cook for 1-1/4 hours (for a single large meringue) or 3/4-1 hour (for 10 small meringues).

In the words of Nigella, "When it's ready it should look crisp around the edges and on the sides and be dry on top, but when you prod the centre you should feel the promise of squidginess beneath your fingers."

Turn off the oven and leave the oven door slightly ajar until the meringue cools completely.

Top with softly whipped cream (I flavoured mine with a 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla and sweetened it with 1 teaspoon of icing sugar), fresh raspberries and dark chocolate shavings.

Serves 10.

Source: Nigella Lawson's Forever Summer.

Strawberry tonic

2011-06-02T22:32:00.002+02:00

This past Sunday, I hosted a little book swap for a gaggle of girls—a mix of real life friends and online acquaintances looking to trade in their discards for new summer reads. One (wo)man's trash, another (wo)man's treasure, and all that.

Snacking on coffee cake and raspberry chocolate tarts, we clinked glasses of strawberry tonic to a summer of reading.

Strawberry Tonic
Less a recipe, than an idea.

Blend a cup or so of strawberries with a splash of orange juice and sugar to taste. You'll end up with a thick, frothy sauce that screams summer.

Stop here, and you have a delicious syrup substitute for your banana pancakes.

Now toss a few ice cubes in a glass, add a scoop of berry puree and top with tonic water for a refreshing strawberry tonic.

Why stop there. Take your strawberry tonic from afternoon refreshment to evening apéritif with a splash of gin.

Source: Inspired by Annie's Sparkling Strawberry Lemonade, which I do hope to try.

Coconut on the brain

2011-05-22T17:38:00.007+02:00

Last Wednesday, I met up with a friend, P., for a mid-week mid-day meal. After hot lunch at the Argo Café*, we took advantage of the sun and a slow work schedule to amble over to Terra Breads for dessert and an espresso.

A hem and a haw later, I settled on orange shortbread—an underwhelming choice in the end. A bite of P.'s chocolate macaroon was redemptive, however, and left me with coconut on the brain. I'd like to try recreating that macaroon at some point, but in the meantime I settled on revisiting a happy toasted coconut accident from a few years ago.

This time, there's a recipe.

Toasted Coconut & Chocolate Chunk Cookies

3/4 cup butter, at room temperature
1 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup white sugar
2 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 cups chocolate chunks (I mixed semi-sweet and milk chocolate)
2 cups unsweetened coconut, toasted

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Dump the coconut onto an ungreased, unlined baking sheet and toast for 3 minutes. Shake the coconut around on the pan and return to the oven for a few more minutes, until the coconut is golden. Scoop the toasted coconut into a bowl and set it aside. Keep the oven on.

In a large bowl, whip the butter until smooth. Add the sugars and beat until light and fluffy. Add the eggs and vanilla and beat until combined.

In a small bowl, whisk together the flour and baking soda. Add these dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix just until combined.

Stir in the chocolate and toasted coconut.

Drop spoonfuls of the (fairly sticky) dough onto a parchment-lined baking sheet, leaving room for the cookies to expand during baking. I usually aim for 8-12 per pan.

Bake for 9-11 minutes or until the cookies are lightly browned around the edges. Remove from the oven and let the cookies cool on the pan for 5 minutes before moving them to a rack to cool completely.

* For Vancouver readers, the Argo Café is an odd, but worthwhile, little place in an area of the city where good eats are few and far between.

Source: A riff on my favourite chocolate chip cookie recipe.

Dad's cookies on mom's day

2011-05-08T18:22:00.009+02:00

These are the kind of cookies that hold little appeal when you're a kid. They're more crunchy than chewy, full of oats and chocolate-free. Just between you and me though, that's some of the tastiest cookie batter going.

In honour of J., who has been baking me good cookies from scratch my entire life.

And we wonder why we turn out the way we do.
Like mother, like daughter.

Dad's Cookies
1 cup butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup white sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups rolled oats, old-fashioned
1 cup unsweetened coconut flakes
1 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.

In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture and stir to combine.

Form the dough into walnut-sized balls, leaving lots of space between cookies (about 12 per sheet). Press down each ball with your hand or a fork.

Bake until golden brown (about 10-15 minutes). The longer you bake them, the crunchier they will be. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring them to a wire rack to cool completely.

Yields about 4 dozen cookies.

Source: Mom's recipe file, with a few minor tweaks.

Things and stuff

2011-04-27T20:57:00.003+02:00

There's a place in Vancouver called Gourmet Warehouse that I have been avoiding since the day I first heard about it.

Row after row of baking gear, kitchen gadgets, linens and...SALT.

It has everything. There is stuff in there you didn't even KNOW you needed.

It's so awesome. You would LOVE it.

Those are the kinds of things people say about this place to woo me, to break me down and lure me in. Do they know the way to my heart or what?

As a general rule, I'm not into stuff: coveting it, buying it, stashing it away. I much prefer consumables—things that disappear or get used up over time—like food. Or, better yet, experiences that involve doing something and allow me to skip the acquisition phase entirely.

Clutter drives me crazy. I spend at least as much time—if not more—devising ways to dispose of things as planning my purchases. Why have two or three or four when one will do just fine?

But the kitchen, well, it's an exception. I have an unsightly number of pans (you never know when you're going to need to bake a 5-layer birthday cake, or two angel food cakes, or muffins in the shape of maple leaves), a drawer full of one-use wonders (turkey chain or butter ruler, anyone?) and a cabinet packed with bulky appliances (which, in my defense, I do use...but maybe just so I can say I use them).

Yet there's always something more I'm just itching to add, like brioche moulds. Because I make brioche all the time? Well maybe I would if I had moulds.

So I finally caved and stepped inside the much-loved Gourmet Warehouse a few weeks ago. We escaped relatively unscathed (well $80 lighter, but brioche mould-free), but it might have been because we rode bikes there. Whatever. Small victories.

Notes: I'm happy(?) to report that my muffin tins got the job done.

Source: I followed Fanny's instructions for brioche over at Foodbeam, only to discover another 5-minute recipe at her new blog, Comme un lait fraise, just now. You know what that means: brioche again this weekend. Man, with all this brioche baking, I could really use some moulds...

So long, and thanks for (eating) all the...coffee cake*

2011-04-17T22:20:00.003+02:00

When I started baking for Kafka's Coffee & Tea last summer, I wasn't sure what to expect.

What I got was...

...a chance to share my sweets with strangers.

...weekday conversations with real people.**

...a lot of amazing macchiatos.

But I also noticed that:

...instead of scaling back on copywriting work, I was writing all day and then baking a few evenings a week—sometimes into the night.

...I lacked the time and interest to experiment in the kitchen.

...R. and his work colleagues were going hungry and my poor little blog was suffering.

All that to say, it's been a slice, but I'm saying so long to baking for business (at least for now). Thanks to all who came for the coffee cake. I hope you'll keep heading to Kafka's for the coffee and keep visiting here to see what I'm cooking up next.

The Casual Baker

p.s. I'll be baking for the café until the end of April, so you still have time to squeeze in a hello and one last slice!

* A weak reference to a solid book.

** Don't laugh until you've freelanced full-time from home for an almost entirely foreign roster of clients. Still think I'm crazy? Fair enough.

Big like the moon

2011-04-04T03:41:00.008+02:00

Remember back on March 19, when the moon was the largest it has been in almost two decades?

Well, here in the Starbott household, there were big science-y things going on too. Nothing cosmic, but definitely some chemistry.

Cinnamon Sugar Pretzels

Pretzel Dough:
2 cups warm water (100°F to 110°F)
1 tablespoon + 2 tablespoons sugar
2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast
5-6 cups flour
1 tablespoon salt
2 teaspoons canola oil
1/4 cup baking soda

1 large egg

Cinnamon Sugar Topping:
3/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/3 cup butter, melted

Vegetable-oil cooking spray

Mix the warm water and 1 tablespoon of sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a dough hook. Sprinkle the yeast on top and let the mixture sit until it becomes foamy (about 10 minutes).

Add the first cup of flour and mix, on low, until combined. Add 4 more cups of flour, plus the salt, and mix until combined. Beat on medium-low until the dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl. Add another 1/2 cup of flour and mix on low for 1 minute. If the dough is still sticky, add the last 1/2 cup of flour and mix to combine.

Knead the dough a few times on a lightly floured surface until it forms a smooth ball. Place the dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover and let rise in a warm spot until double in size (about 1 hour).

Preheat your oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit and line two baking sheets with parchment.

Retrieve the pretzel dough, knead it once or twice to eliminate bubbles and then divide the ball into 16 equal pieces.

Roll each piece into a strip about 18 inches long, twist it into a pretzel shape and place it on one of the prepared baking sheets. Make sure to leave plenty of room between pretzels. Cover loosely and let rise for about 15 minutes.

While the pretzels are proofing, fill a large pot with 2 inches of water and bring it to a boil. Add the baking soda and 2 tablespoons of sugar, and watch it foam up! Reduce the temperature, as needed, to maintain a simmer.

Poach the pretzels, 3-4 at a time, for 1 minute on each side. Use a slotted spoon to move the pretzels back to the baking sheet. Continue until all of the pretzels are poached.

In a small bowl, beat the egg with 1 tablespoon of water. Lightly brush the tops of the poached pretzels with egg wash. Bake until golden (about 12-15 minutes).

Meanwhile, prepare the cinnamon sugar topping. Melt the butter in a small bowl, just large enough to fit a single pretzel. In another small bowl, mix the cinnamon and sugar.

Once the baked pretzels are cool enough to handle, dip the top of each one into the melted butter followed by the cinnamon sugar mixture.

From here, you can either return the finished pretzels to the cooling rack or head straight for your mouth.

Best eaten right away, or at least that day.

Source: A sweet twist (pun most definitely intended) on this Martha Stewart recipe, via Smitten Kitchen.

Down to the last crumb

2011-03-27T21:27:00.004+02:00

R: Can I have the last date square?

Me: No, I want to blog it and I haven't taken any pictures yet.

********************
The next day

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

R: Can I have it now?

Me: No, I still don't have a photo.

R: *sigh*

********************
The next day

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

R: I'm going to eat the last date square.

Me: OK. Let me get the camera.

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

Matrimonial Cake (Date Square)

Filling:
500 grams pitted dates
1/2 cup brown sugar
2/3 cup orange juice (~2 navel oranges)
1 teaspoon vanilla

Crumb base:
1 1/2 cups rolled oats, old-fashioned
2 cups flour
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup salted butter, chilled
zest of 2 oranges

Start with the filling. Zest and juice the oranges, setting aside the zest of one orange for later.

Combine the dates, brown sugar, orange juice, vanilla and the zest of one orange in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat, then reduce heat and simmer until the sugar is dissolved and the liquid thickens. Remove from heat.

Puree the mixture in a food processor until smooth. Set aside to cool.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and line a 9-inch square pan with parchment paper.

Next, get started on the crumb mixture. In a large bowl, whisk together the oats, flour, brown sugar, baking soda and the zest of one orange.

Cube the chilled butter and add it to the dry ingredients. Rub the mixture between your fingertips until it begins to form coarse crumbs.

Firmly press half of the crumb mixture into the bottom of the prepared pan. Spread the cooled filling over the base and then sprinkle the remaining crumbs evenly on top.

Bake until golden brown (about 35-40 minutes). Cool, then cut into squares.

Source: A variation on Mom's favourite recipe.

Notes: Date square, or matrimonial cake as my family calls it, is a Canadian classic. My mom's recipe calls for a 9-inch x 13-inch pan, but I wanted a thicker version.

What I've been up to lately

2011-03-21T06:24:00.003+01:00

Be back soon.

Bisous,

The Casual Baker

Blueberry buns, in various degrees of doneness

2011-03-06T22:44:00.003+01:00

Post-rolling, the night before.

Post-baking, the morning of.

Post-icing, pre-eating.

Blueberry Buns

Dough:
6 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 large egg, slightly beaten
zest of 1/2 lemon (you'll use the other half below)
3 1/2 cups flour
2 teaspoons instant yeast
1 cup whole milk or buttermilk, at room temperature*

* Forgot to check if we had enough milk before beginning this project at 10:00 p.m. We didn't. So I made do with 1/2 cup milk and 1/2 cup plain yogurt. Worked like a charm.

Filling:
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 1/2 cups fresh blueberries*

* I started with 2 cups of frozen blueberries and then ran them briefly under hot water to remove any ice and speed up the thawing process.

Glaze:
3 cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons plain yogurt
juice of 1/2 lemon
zest of 1/2 lemon

In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream together the sugar, salt and butter on medium-high speed until smooth. Add the egg and lemon zest and mix until incorporated.

Add the flour, yeast and milk and mix until a dough begins to form. Switch to the dough hook and knead, on low, for about 8 minutes. The dough will be smooth and silky. (Aside: Annie notes that you may need to add a little extra flour or liquid to achieve this texture, but I lucked out with the measurements above.)

Lightly grease a large bowl with butter, transfer the dough to the bowl and turn once to coat the top. Cover with plastic wrap or a tea towel and let rise, in a warm spot, until double in size (about 2 hours).

On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough into a 12-inch by 14-inch rectangle. Sprinkle the sugar, then the cinnamon, then the berries evenly across the dough's surface. Starting with the narrow edge, roll the dough into a log. Pinch the seam shut and then roll the log so that the seam side is facing the counter. Slice into 9 pieces.

Instead of baking the rolls individually on a baking sheet, I jammed mine into a 9-inch square pan. It was cozy in that pan, let me tell you, but everyone managed to find a seat. Place each bun, cut side up, with larger buns in the corners and smaller ones closer to the centre. Cover with plastic wrap and place the pan in the fridge before you head off to bed.

When you wake up, remove the pan from the fridge and loosen the plastic wrap. Let the buns come to room temperature and proof (2-3 hours) before pre-heating your oven. (Aside: I noticed that my buns rose quite a bit overnight, so next time I am tempted to skip the "room temperature" step and head straight for the oven.)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake for 30-40 minutes, or until golden brown. Let the buns cool in the pan for about 10 minutes. (Aside: Annie suggested a 20-30 minute baking time, but my "bun-based" approach seemed to take longer.)

While the buns are cooling, whisk the icing sugar, yogurt, lemon juice and zest together in a small bowl until smooth. Glaze the buns and then wait 10-15 more minutes, if you can, before digging in.

Yields 9 large buns.

Source: A slight variation on the Blueberry Cinnamon Rolls over at Annie's Eats, which Annie adapted from Peter Reinhart's The Bread Baker's Apprentice.

Corkboards and shortbreads

2011-02-27T23:10:00.002+01:00

When I was a kid, all my friends and I, we had corkboards in our bedrooms. We'd tack up photos of friends, ticket stubs, pages from our favourite magazines, random scraps of paper with mysterious meaning—anything that was interesting or important or crucial to remember (according to our 14-year-old selves).

Then the Internet came along, with digital cameras close behind, and suddenly paper seemed passé. By the time I went away to university, it was clear the corkboard was headed the way of the dodo. What wasn't so clear was how to replicate these treasuries online.

For a while, I made do with an elaborate (in the sense of many-foldered) system of online bookmarking. But it turns out I have a love/hate relationship with electronic bookmarks: I love filing things and I hate looking back at them.

And let's face it, the words lava cake don't hold the same allure as a photo, which is why I'm super enthused about Pinterest. I may be off to a slow start, but I think the concept has potential. It's the online corkboard my inner 14-year-old has been pining for since 1994.

****
Back in December, I pushpinned this photo of whole wheat sablés with cacao nibs onto my mental corkboard (a considerably less reliable alternative to Pinterest) with the intention of attempting a buckwheat variation.

Revisiting the recipe again recently, I noticed that Molly of Orangette had a similar buckwheat brainwave...more than three years earlier. What follows is a bit of mixing and matching.

Buckwheat Shortbread with Cacao Nibs

1 cup (~4.5 ounces) all-purpose flour
3/4 cup (~4.5 ounces) buckwheat flour
14 tablespoons salted butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/3 cup roasted cacao nibs

In a small bowl, briefly whisk together the all-purpose and buckwheat flours. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, use an electric mixer to beat the butter, sugar and vanilla until creamy and smooth. Add the nibs and beat briefly to incorporate. Add the flour and mix just until combined. Use your hands to lightly knead the dough a few times until it forms a ball.

Put the dough inside a medium or large Ziploc freezer bag. Use a rolling pin on the outside of the bag to create a 1/4-inch thick rectangle, pushing the dough into the corners and smoothing the surface. Take a look at the technique here, if my instructions aren't clear. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight.

****
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.

Use scissors to cut the sides of the Ziploc bag and reveal the cold dough. Cut into squares using a sharp knife. Carefully prick each square twice with a fork, pushing the tines down until they reach the cutting board.

Bake for 12-14 minutes, or until the squares are golden brown on the bottoms and edges. Cookies can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature.

Notes: This is my second attempt at a buckwheat cookie and, I think, a better result.

Source: A buckwheat variation on the Whole Wheat Sablés with Cacao Nibs from Alice Medrich's Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunchy Melt-in-Your-Mouth Cookies, discovered via Orangette.

Forgotten food

2011-02-14T18:29:00.002+01:00

In 1986, my mom and I moved from prairie Alberta to the suburbs of Vancouver. For the longest time, I divided my life into two distinct periods—before BC (in this case, British Columbia) and after—and mentally filed away my experiences accordingly.

Naturally, the move meant a lot of changes. Some were immediately obvious to 6-year-old me (suddenly I didn't ride a big orange bus to school), some took a few years (the trusty blue pick-up was eventually traded in for a four-door family car), and still others became apparent only over time (like what we ate).

In the streamlined version of history that resides in my head, we drove into the Rockies eating cream of potato soup and came out the other side munching on greens and bagels. In reality, our diet gradually evolved to suit our new life (one that didn't include men working in fields or tending to cattle, a 20-kilometre car ride to the nearest major grocery store or drinking water hauled up pail by pail from a well by the side of the road) and the evolving times (hello low-fat craze of the late '80s/early '90s).

Overall, I'd say it was a positive change. But every once in awhile one of those forgotten foods will pop into my head unannounced and demand to be reconsidered—usually with good reason.

That was the case for these welsh cakes. A forgotten food worth remembering.

Welsh Cakes
2 cups flour
1/3 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup salted butter + extra for cooking
2-3 tablespoons milk
1/4 rounded teaspoon nutmeg
zest of 1 lemon
1/2 cup dark raisins
1 egg

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, nutmeg and lemon zest.

Using a pastry blender, cut the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture is crumbly. Stir in the raisins. Set aside.

In a small bowl, whisk together the egg and 2 tablespoons of the milk.

Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and stir with a fork until a dough begins to form. Use your hands to gather the mixture into a ball, as you would pie pastry.

Preheat a griddle to 360 degrees Fahrenheit or heat a frying pan on the stovetop over medium heat.

Roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface to 1/4 inch. Cut into 3-inch rounds.

Lightly grease the heated griddle or frying pan with a slick of butter. Fill the pan with welsh cakes. Cook the cakes until lightly browned on the underside, flip and repeat (about 2-3 minutes per side). You may have to adjust your stovetop temperature as you go. Lightly re-grease between batches.

Source: Mom's recipe file.

Notes: The original recipe calls for 1/4 butter and 1/4 lard, a flat 1/4 teaspoon of nutmeg, 1/3 cup currants (rinsed and drained) and no lemon zest.

Apple oat cake

2011-02-04T11:40:00.002+01:00

Some things in life are pretty, but tasteless; others are homely hidden gems. This apple oat snack cake falls squarely in the second category, yet still begs to be judged by its (crispy caramelized coconut) cover.

Go figure.

Apple Oat Cake

Cake:
1 1/4 cups boiling water
1 cup rolled oats, old-fashioned
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 cup salted butter
1 cup white sugar
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
2 medium-sized apples (about 350 grams)

Topping:
1/4 cup salted butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons milk or cream (I used 1% milk)
3/4 cup unsweetened coconut flakes
1/2 cup pecans, chopped coarsely (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and line an 8- or 9-inch Pyrex pan with parchment paper. Set aside.

To prepare the cake...

Measure out the rolled oats into a medium heatproof bowl. Pour the boiling water on top, stir once or twice, and set aside.

In a second bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and cinnamon. Set aside.

In a third bowl, cream together the butter and sugars until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each. Stir in the soaked rolled oats, followed by the flour mixture. Mix thoroughly.

Peel, core and thinly slice the apples (I used a mandoline). Lightly stir them into the batter.

Spread the mixture into the prepared pan. Bake for 50-60 minutes (it will depend on how juicy your apples are) or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean.

Remove the pan from the oven (but leave the oven on) while you get started on the topping...

Melt the butter in a small saucepan over low-medium heat. Add the brown sugar, milk or cream, coconut and chopped pecans. Stir to combine.

Spread the mixture evenly over the hot cake.

Switch your oven from bake to broil. Return the cake to the oven and bake until the topping is bubbly and golden (about 1-1/2 minutes). Watch it carefully!

Remove the cake from the oven and set aside to cool completely before serving.

Source: Mom's recipe file.

Showtime

2011-01-31T08:39:00.005+01:00

A few Fridays ago, we caught an early show of The Fighter. It was an especially busy day at work, so I left the house on the fly, which meant (a) an awkward half-walk/half-run—a scurry, as we used to say in university—to the bus stop; and (b) no smuggled snacks in my purse.

Fortunately, I have a memory like an elephant when it comes to sweets and where to find them. So as I drew back the door to the International Village (home of Tinseltown Theatre) 10 minutes before showtime, I had one thing on the brain: tarts. Our friend P. had mentioned his unexpected discovery of a particularly fine butter tart there at least a year go, but this was my first time visiting the theatre since. Jogging up the escalator stairs, I urgently scanned the perimeter for my husband—and the butter tart stand (not necessarily in that order).

I spotted R. easily enough in the ticket line, but the tart booth was proving coy. When he reached into his shoulder bag to reveal the familiar crinkly red and white stripes of Hawkins Cheezies (family size, no less), I declared him a saint and reluctantly abandoned my pastry search in favour of a good seat.

The next afternoon, though, I got to work in the kitchen. Like I said, memory like an elephant.

Butter Tarts
3/4 packed brown sugar
1/4 cup corn syrup (or, in my case, Roger's Golden Cane Syrup)
1 egg
2 tablespoons salted butter, softened
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp vinegar
1/2 cup dark raisins

1 batch of your favourite pastry
OR
12 pre-made tart shells

Preheat oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit.

In bowl, whisk together the brown sugar, corn syrup, egg, butter, vanilla and vinegar until blended. Set aside.

If you're making your own tart shells, roll out the pastry until it's 1/8-inch thick. Use 4-inch round cookie cutters to cut out 12 circles, re-rolling the scraps if necessary. Carefully press each circle into 1 cup of a 12-cup muffin tin.

Divide the raisins evenly among the 12 cups, followed by the filling. It may seem as though there's not enough liquid in each tart, but the filling will bubble up as it heats. You may even want to put the muffin tin (and will definitely want to put the pre-made tart shells) on a cookie sheet to save your oven from any spillover.

Bake until the pastry is golden and the filling is puffed and bubbly (12-15 minutes). Let the tarts cool in the pan for 1 minute, before carefully loosening them with a dinner knife and moving them to a rack to cool completely.

Yields 12 tarts.

Source: Canadian Living.

Notes: I like my butter tarts less runny, more goopy, with lots of raisins and sans nuts, which is reflected in the instructions I've typed out above. The original Canadian Living recipe, however, offers variations to suit every taste.

Marginally related notes: My online Cheezie research led me to this, which linked to this, which made me wonder (a) if superior cheese snack combustibility is a worthy source of national pride; and (b) what it means for my combustibility if I just consumed a multi-serving bag in one sitting. Eeek.

Weekday snack cake

2011-01-19T22:51:00.003+01:00

I baked this cake awhile ago, evidently. Haven't seen the sun since.

No matter. When the weather's not brightening your day, sometimes a cake can do the trick.

Toasted Pine Nut Cake
4.5 ounces pine nuts, toasted and cooled
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup salted butter, cut into pieces
4 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and flour an 8-inch round cake pan (mine was 9-inch, which explains why my cake is so squat compared to the one in the Gourmet photo).

Pulse the toasted pine nuts and sugar in a food processor until finely chopped. Add the butter and process until combined. Repeat with the eggs and vanilla.

Add the flour and baking powder and pulse just until incorporated. Spread the batter in the prepared cake pan.

Bake until the cake is just firm to the touch and a wooden pick inserted into the centre comes out clean (about 30-35 minutes). Cool the cake in the pan for 15 minutes, before flipping it out onto a rack to cool completely.

Store, well wrapped, at room temperature for up to 4 days.

Notes: You see that dense bit in the centre? I'm not sure if it's because pine nuts contain more oil than walnuts, or because I underbaked the cake. It didn't *seem* underbaked, so I wouldn't worry if yours turns out the same. For the record, we ate ours with a smear of blackberry jam à la J-Bo. I'm sorry you can't do the same.

Source: Based on Walnut Jam Cake, originally published in Gourmet, April 2009.

French toast for winter

2011-01-13T11:02:00.004+01:00

Here's what you do. First, head over to the New York Times and make the now infamous no-knead bread, based on a recipe by Jim Lahey.

And if you're smitten (as I was), the next stop will be your local independent bookstore, where you'll pick up his book, My Bread.

Back to the bread though, for a minute. On day 1 and 2, you can dip a wedge in olive oil and balsamic vinegar or slather a slice in salted butter. On days 3 and 4, you're moving into toast territory. Toss a slice in the toaster for a PB&J breakfast. Sandwich shredded cheddar between two buttered pieces for a grilled cheese lunch. Drizzle some scraps with olive oil, garlic and thyme for a dinner side dish. But wait, that's a huge loaf of bread, and you've still got some left.

Two words: French. Toast.

That's where today's post comes into play. This isn't the pain perdu we chatted about a few years ago. This version is sturdier, heartier—a batter that not only soaks into the crumb, but coats it too.

A better match for bread like this and winter days like these.

French Toast
2 eggs
1 cup flour
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 cups milk
10-12 slices of bread that's nearing the end of its useful life

Heat a frying pan over medium heat. Add a small dab of butter if you're worried the French toast will stick (repeat between slices).

In a medium bowl (preferably deep and just wide enough to fit a slice of bread), whisk the eggs. Add the flour, sugar and baking powder and keep whisking, as you slowly add the milk. There will be a few lumps (hopefully not too many), but not to worry.

Dip each slice of bread into the batter, turning to coat both sides. Let the excess liquid drip back into the bowl before dropping the battered bread into the hot frying pan.

Cook until golden brown. Flip. Repeat. Sometimes I like to lid the pan after the first flip, while the second side is browning, to make sure the sides cook. You'll lose a bit of crispiness though. Trade-offs.

Yields: 10-12 slices

Source: Mom's recipe file.

In the nick of time

2011-01-05T21:28:00.004+01:00

At any given moment, I have a few ambitious baking projects waiting in the wings for that elusive triumvirate of time, energy and inclination. Sifting through the paper detritus that had piled up on my desk and in my drawers over the year, I stumbled on an unfinished list of challenges I'd hoped to tackle in 2010 jotted half-heartedly in the corner of a notebook. Among them, croissants.*

I even had a specific recipe in mind. The February/March 2009 issue of Fine Cooking featured a step-by-step guide to making the delicate pastries. With my schedule wide open for the Christmas holidays and time ticking down to the new year, it seemed like the right time to make things happen.

In 2010: I came, I rolled butter, I conquered croissants.

* Pretty sure this was a carry-over from 2009.

Notes: Overall, the Fine Cooking recipe I reference above served me well. I did run into some trouble when it came to cutting the dough into triangles. Instead of using the photos as a guideline and following my gut, I tried to follow the written instructions step by step. I'm a bit spatially challenged though.

Also, at the recommended baking temperature, the bottoms of my croissants browned very quickly, while the tops darkened more slowly and unevenly. Next time, I'll try a slightly lower temperature for slightly longer.

Blogkeeping: A post a week for the entire year, no ifs, ands or buts. Unless we leave the country for more than a week. Then all bets are off. Deal? Deal.

Pop tarts

2010-12-09T07:20:00.002+01:00

I was a late arrival on the pop tart scene, my first being a frosted "strawberry" at the ripe old age of 21. That package of pop tarts traveled the length of the country—from Vancouver to Halifax—alongside a vacuum-sealed packet of udon noodles eerily reminiscent of a human brain (on pop tarts?). I had just started grad school at Dalhousie and the foodstuffs were part of a care package from my sister-in-law.

Having never had a pop tart before and reflecting back on past first tastes of these sorts of "treats" (Twinkies, I'm looking at you), I recall not being particularly enthused. But it seemed wasteful not to eat them, and an even worse idea to give them to my messy, and therefore undeserving, roommate (Sorry L., if you're reading).

In the end, I took one for the team and powered through that entire package in several days. I stopped there though because store-bought pop tarts are hella sweet y'all. You won't have the same problem with these, although that opens up a whole other can of worms. Let's focus on one problem at a time though, shall we?

Source: Head over to Chez Pim for all the details. If you're looking for something special to fill your pop tarts, check out her Etsy shop for artisan jams and marmalades.

Notes: For the record, I did jam one of these in my upright toaster and lived to eat it. If setting off smoke detectors is not your style, however, stick with the oven or toaster oven. And if it's not a pop tart without icing for you, by all means be my guest.

Chocolate gingerbread

2010-11-28T13:28:00.002+01:00

I can't believe I haven't blogged this cake before. So much so that I had to double—nay triple—check my recipe index just to make sure I hadn't somehow glossed right over it. But no, it's not there.

So while I've been enjoying chocolate gingerbread around this time for the past 5 years or so, you haven't. It doesn't seem fair, does it. Let's fix that, shall we?

Chocolate Gingerbread

2 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons flour
1/2 cup cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
12 ounces semisweet chocolate (mini chips or finely chopped)
3/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/4 cups sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 eggs
1 cup Fancy molasses
1 cup hot water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and flour a 10-cup Bundt pan.

In a large bowl, whisk together 2 1/2 cups of the flour, cocoa, baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon, allspice, cloves, nutmeg and black pepper. Set aside.

In a small bowl, toss the remaining 2 tablespoons of flour with the chocolate chips or pieces. Set aside.

In a third bowl (stay with me here), beat together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy (2-3 minutes). Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla.

Mix the hot water and molasses in a heatproof bowl or measuring cup.

Add the flour mixture alternately with the molasses mixture in 3 batches, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary. Fold in the chocolate chips or pieces and mix just until blended.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake for 55-65 minutes, until the cake begins to pull away from the sides of the pan and is firm to the touch.

Cool the cake in the pan on a wire rack. Make sure the cake has completely set before attempting to loosen it from the pan with a spatula or knife and inverting it onto a serving platter (otherwise you will end up with cake parts in the pan and the rough and tumble cake top pictured above). Store covered at room temperature.

Notes: The cake has a delicious crunchy exterior on day one, but it's equally delicious for days afterward. The crust disappears, but the spicy flavours intensify.

Source: Chocolate Chip Gingerbread Cake in Luscious Chocolate Desserts by Lori Longbotham.

The digest version

2010-11-15T14:27:00.006+01:00

Hi there,

It's been awhile, but I won't bore you with the details. Suffice to say, there was some of this.

And occasionally this.

And then a trip to Cuba that came and went in the space of a blink. Water so green and skies so blue—surely a mirage.

There, a niece(!) got hitched.

And I started (and finished) this.

Just in time for Air Canada to take us home.

There was John Hamm on SNL in a hotel room near the Toronto airport (and a few flakes of snow just to remind us where we were). Then one more plane ride back to my favourite rainy city.

Where this was waiting in the mail.

So I made these Pumpkin Cheddar Muffins.

The idea of pumpkin and cheese together in a muffin seemed odd at first, but then I ate one. And another. And before long I was making a second batch.

If that's not a good sign, I don't know what is.

Pumpkin Cheddar Muffins

1 cup pumpkin purée
3 tablespoons sour cream
2 eggs
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
2 cups flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
115 grams (4 ounces) sharp cheddar cheese, grated*

* Apparently this works out to be about 1 1/4 cups when grated

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Lightly grease a 12-cup muffin tin and set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the pumpkin and sour cream. Add the eggs and melted butter and whisk until combined. Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, cayenne pepper, salt, black pepper and brown sugar.

Make a well in the dry ingredients and add the wet ingredients all at once. Stir just until combined. Fold in about three-quarters of the cheese.

Divide the batter evenly among the 12 greased muffin cups. Sprinkle the remaining cheese on top.

Bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. Let the muffin pan cool on a rack for 10 minutes before removing the muffins to cool completely.

Best eaten fresh from the oven, but they hold their moisture quite well for several days.

Source: Slightly adapted from Baked Explorations: Classic American Desserts Reinvented by Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito, p. 25.

Notes: After making the recipe as published, I reduced the amount of black pepper and halved the sugar in my second batch. Skipped the pumpkin seeds both times.

Sticky toffee pudding

2010-10-16T16:09:00.003+02:00

The past few years, R. and I have hosted a mini Thanksgiving at our place. I should clarify: mini as in few people, not a limited menu. We're never ones to skimp in the food department. After all, eliminate too many of the trimmings and what's left to distinguish Thanksgiving dinner from regular weekday fare?

Pie is tricky for three though, especially if leftover pumpkin pie holds little appeal. Since we're being honest, pumpkin pie's not really my thang period. So this year, I went with the still seasonally appropriate—but scalable—sticky toffee pudding.

I have to tell you, I may never go back. Top 5 desserts of all time (and I don't say that lightly).

Sticky Toffee Pudding

Pudding:
1 cup Guinness stout beer (foam not included)
1 teaspoon baking soda
170 grams dates, pitted
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup + 2 tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 eggs, at room temperature
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

Butterscotch Toffee Sauce:
1 cup dark brown sugar (demerara or muscovado)
1 vanilla bean or 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup whipping cream
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/8 teaspoon salt

To make the pudding, put the pitted dates in a small heatproof bowl and set aside. Pour the beer into a small saucepan and bring it just to the boil. Remove from the heat, stir in the baking soda and watch the mixture fizz up. Pour the liquid over the dates and set aside to cool to room temperature.

Once cool, drain the dates, keeping the liquid close by. Place the dates, and a bit of liquid, in a food processor and blend until they form a paste. Add the rest of the liquid and process until very smooth. Scrape the mixture into a bowl and cover it until you're ready to use it.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and line 12 3/4-cup ramekins (or a 9-inch x 13-inch baking pan) with parchment paper and set aside.

In a medium bowl, beat the butter, sugar and vanilla on medium speed until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition and scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. Add the date paste and mix.

In another bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, cinnamon and nutmeg. Gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients, stopping to mix periodically just until the batter is uniform in colour.

Pour the batter into the prepared ramekins (or baking pan). Place the ramekins (if using) on a baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes, rotate, then bake for another 10-15 minute or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean.

While the pudding is baking, make the sauce. Place the brown sugar in a small saucepan. If you're using a vanilla bean, split the bean lengthwise and scrape the seeds into the sugar and set the empty pod aside. Rub the seeds into the sugar with your fingertips. If you're using vanilla extract, simply mix it into the sugar. Add the butter to the sugar/vanilla and stir.

Bring the mixture to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the cream, lemon juice, salt and vanilla pod (if using). The mixture may be grainy, but will become smooth as it cools. Set aside, reheating (if necessary) and removing the vanilla pod before serving.

Remove the baked pudding(s) from the oven and let cool in the ramekins (or pan) for 10 minutes before inverting onto plates (or a serving platter).

To serve, pour several generous spoonfuls of the warm butterscotch toffee sauce over individual portions of the hot pudding. Optional: Top with vanilla ice cream, or crème fraîche, and toasted pecans.

Notes: I halved the recipe and used 6 ramekins.

Source: Sticky Toffee Pudding in Rose's Heavenly Cakes by Rose Levy Beranbaum, pp. 71-74. One of my favourite cake cookbooks of all time.

You can't always get what you want

2010-10-04T12:19:00.002+02:00

I'll pick thick and fluffy pancakes over thin and dense ones any day of the week. Well except yesterday, I guess.

Before our laptop crashed and took my carefully constructed electronic cookbook with it, I had an amazing recipe for the seemingly impossible: a fluffy buckwheat pancake. Every time I've come across a new (to me) recipe since then, I've given it a go in the hopes of re-capturing that memory.

Yesterday's contestant was originally published in Gourmet back in 1993. Reading through the ingredients and directions, I had fairly low expectations. As it turns out, I was both right and wrong.

Right in that, no, it's not the fluffy buckwheat pancake of my past.
Wrong in that it's something entirely different and equally delicious.

The batter's thin, which means even the shakiest and slowest of hands can come away with perfect circles. The pancakes are slender with a nutty interior and crispy, buttery edges—the perfect vehicle for your Grade A maple syrup or Roger's Golden.

Cue the music.

Buckwheat Pancakes

1/4 cup buckwheat flour
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons cold butter, cut into bits
1 egg
1/2 cup milk

In a medium bowl, whisk the flours, baking powder, brown sugar and salt. Use a pastry blender or your fingers to work the cold butter into the dry ingredients. In a small bowl, whisk the egg and milk. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and stir until relatively smooth. Let the batter sit and thicken for 5-10 minutes while you heat your pan.

Cook the pancakes on a lightly buttered cast iron skillet over medium heat. You'll know to flip them when bubbles begin to form on the exposed side.

Source: Adapted from Blueberry Buckwheat Pancakes at Epicurious.com, originally published in Gourmet, July 1993.

Notes: Not ready to break out my frozen stash of blueberries just yet, I skipped them this time around. I also cut the recipe in half, which made for a nice breakfast for two.

Twitter made me do it

2010-09-24T12:35:00.003+02:00

It started with a chips sale at Buy-Low. And when I say chips, I mean the chocolate and butterscotch variety, not their distant savoury relatives: ketchup and salt & vinegar. I resisted the urge and turned my cart instead towards the healthier store perimeter

Back at home, I happened upon a tweet from @jackhonky (of Eat the Love fame) about some questionable chips he had stumbled upon.

To which I responded:

and linked to the best proxy photo I could find online. It looked a bit like this, but even less appetizing:

Then @kickpleat (of Everybody Likes Sandwiches) piped up:

I can't think of a better way to describe butterscotch delight. It's so wrong, yet so very very right.

Before long, I was back at the Buy Low buying butterscotch chips and day-glo Jet Puffs. I considered substituting homemade marshmallows, but why pretend something's high-brow when it's clearly not.

Butterscotch Delight (or, as we call it, Marshamel)

1 bag butterscotch chips
1/3 cup salted butter (if you use unsalted, just add a pinch of salt)
1/2 cup peanut butter
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/3 cup coconut
2/3 of a package of Jet Puff mini coloured marshmallows (go with your gut here)

Line an 8-inch square pan with parchment paper and set aside.

Melt the butterscotch chips and butter over low heat in a medium saucepan. Remove from heat and stir in the peanut butter, vanilla and coconut. At this point, the mixture should be fairly liquid. Carefully stir in the mini marshmallows.

Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and chill in the fridge until set. Store in the fridge and eat as your tummy demands.

Source: An email from my Mom, although she credits the Unifarm cookbook.

Milk chocolate digestives

2010-09-08T23:38:00.010+02:00

A few summers ago, while R. and I were on the Camino de Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain, I became mildly obsessed with digestive biscuits. What can I say, walking 25 kilometres a day can make a girl a little peckish.

Fortunately, the hip straps on my day pack conveniently had little zippered pouches on either side, perfect for a bag of nuts or—when I was feeling particularly ambitious (greedy?)—a roll of milk chocolate-covered digestive biscuits.

I'll be the first to admit that it's sort of an odd thing to develop a taste for while walking across Spain (and believe me when I say that local food was the norm, not the exception, for us). Anyone who has spent any time travelling, however, can attest to finding (and wanting!) the strangest foods in the most unexpected places.

Like you'll be sleeping on a Chinese junk in the middle of Ha Long Bay, in Vietnam, when you swear you hear someone calling: "You buy something?"

"Impossible," you think. "I'm in the middle of the ocean. It's just me, the floating school and all of the other North American tourists on their Chinese junks."

Then you look out your porthole window to find a Vietnamese woman rowing a boat full of Ritz crackers and Oreo cookies.

When you think about it, coming across McVitie's Milk Chocolate Digestives from the U.K. in Spain—even remote rural Spain—is about 1/10th as impressive as finding U.S.-based Nabisco's Oreos in the middle of the South China Sea. Just saying.

Milk Chocolate Digestives

3/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup wheat bran
5 tablespoons brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/4 cup butter
1 tablespoon vegetable shortening
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
3 tablespoons milk or cream

~1/2 bag of milk chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and line a baking sheet with parchment.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flours, bran, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda and cream of tartar. Add the butter and shortening and blend using a pastry blender. At this point, the mixture should be crumbly, but uniform. Add the vanilla and milk/cream, mixing until the dough resembles Play-Doh. Cover and refrigerate for 20-30 minutes.

Roll out the dough between two pieces of waxed paper to 1/8" thick. Cut out shapes (round being classic), and carefully transfer them to the prepared baking sheet. Prick each cookie several times with a fork. Bake for 15-18 minutes, or until lightly golden. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheet for several minutes before moving them to a wire rack to cool completely.

Spread the bottoms of the cooled cookies with melted chocolate. Let the chocolate set before eating the cookies or storing them in an airtight container.

Note: I used milk chocolate instead of the recommended semi-sweet chocolate, 'cause that's how I like my digestives. Plus, I stirred in a small dab of shortening to keep things smooth and spreadable.

Source: Thanks to the Obsessive Gardener's persistence, I was able to enjoy a decent homemade chocolate digestive on my very first try. Now, so can you.

Start of something good

2010-08-28T11:21:00.005+02:00

***Updated to include recipe on September 3, 2010***

"I think you just might be on to something here," I say to myself, marveling at the sugary crunch and berry burst of that first bite.

Then I remember: I've been down this path before.

"Good thing you're older and wiser now," I think, and smile.

Berry Oat Bars

1 cup brown sugar
2 1/2 cups large-flake rolled oats
1 1/4 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
zest of 1 lime (you'll use the juice below)
1 cup salted butter, slightly softened

700 grams fresh berries (I used 2/3 blueberries, 1/3 raspberries)
1/2 cup white sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
juice of 1 lime

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a 9" x 13" glass baking pan with parchment.

In a large bowl, stir together the brown sugar, rolled oats, flour, baking powder and lime zest. Cut the butter into cubes and then add it to the dry ingredients. Use a pastry blender, a fork or your fingertips to blend the mixture until it forms clumps. If you find things are particularly sticky, sprinkle a little extra flour on top and work it into the mixture.

Press half of this oat mixture into the prepared pan, using a little more if necessary to completely cover the bottom of the pan.

In a second large bowl, stir together the white sugar, cornstarch and lime juice. Wash the berries and shake off any excess water before adding them to the mixture. Stir carefully to coat, but not crush, the berries.

Spread the berry mixture evenly over the oat base. Form the remaining oat mixture into small clusters and toss them over top of the berries, pressing lightly to ensure they are stuck in place.

Bake until lightly browned (approximately 45-55 minutes).

Serve warm in a bowl with ice cream/whipped cream/crème fraîche and a spoon, or cool and cut into squares.

Note: I like these cold, straight from the fridge, but feel free to keep them at room temperature if you prefer.

Source: The Casual Baker.

Arnold Palmer

2010-08-16T22:03:00.002+02:00

I don't know the man personally, and golf's not really my thing, but if Arnold Palmer walked through my door, I'd be the first to shake his hand. Here's why.

It's been pretty hot in Vancouver the past few days—by our standards at least. All derision aside though, there's no getting around a few simple facts:

The city's not built for the heat. Everything's glass and nothing's air conditioned.
Our condo's not built for the heat. A 4th floor, south-facing spot, it's a tomato plant's heaven and a dweller's hell.
I'm not built for the heat. A fair-skinned, freckled Celt, I descend from sheep herders roaming windy moors in wool sweaters.

Enter Arnold Palmer and his pure genius move mixing lemonade and ice tea. That man knows his beverages, and I know my popsicles. Together, we're unstoppable.

Arnold Palmer Pops

Sweet tea:
2 1/4 cups boiling water
2 tea bags
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup whole milk

Lemonade:
1/2 cup sugar
2 cups water
1/2 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (3-4 lemons)

Make the sweet tea by pouring the boiling water over the bags and steeping for 5 minutes. The tea will be super strong. Remove the tea bags, add the sugar, and stir until it dissolves. Stir in the milk and set aside to cool for about 30 minutes.

Make the lemonade by combining the sugar and water in a small saucepan. Stir over low heat until the sugar dissolves. Stir in the lemon juice and set aside to cool for about 30 minutes.

If you want layered popsicles, fill your moulds (or Dixie cups) just under halfway and freeze for 2 hours. Pour the cooled sweet tea on top, leaving a bit of room for expansion, and freeze for at least 6 hours. If you're using Dixie cups, don't forget to insert popsicle sticks about 1 hour after adding the sweet tea layer!

Notes: I really liked the idea of layered popsicles (maybe it's all the Rocket Pops I was refused as a child), but the fact is the sweet tea layer is a bit bland on its own. These popsicles are even better all mixed up like Arnold intended. My bad, Mr. Palmer, my bad.

Source: Jam It, Pickle It, Cure It and Other Cooking Projects by Karen Solomon.

3 reasons to make zucchini cake with lemon glaze (even though you're not sure about the name)

2010-08-10T22:08:00.004+02:00

1. You get to bake it in a bundt pan, which is fun to say.

(According to the talking dictionary online, it's pronounced BUNdt, but I prefer BOONdt. Try it out loud. See what I mean?)

2. It not only looks like a huge doughnut, it kind of tastes like one too. A big, glazed old-fashioned cake doughnut.

(That's a hyphen-free doughnut with an ugh. Just the spelling, not the sentiment.)

3. There's a crunchy citrus icing on the outside that keeps the little green zucchini flecks on the inside safe and sound and the opposite of dry.

(I thought moist was an unfortunate sounding word, then I saw Lexpedia's suggested synonyms. Let's stick with un-dry.)

Source: DavidLebovitz.com

Something new

2010-07-29T21:20:00.005+02:00

I'm mostly a writer, but sometimes I bake.

And now you no longer have to know me personally to get on the tasting panel. Instead, you can drop by Kafka's Coffee & Tea at
2525 Main Street (Main & Broadway) for something caffeinated and something sweet.

Pumpkin whoopie pies with cream cheese frosting

Fudgy brownies with crackly tops

What's next? You tell me!

If there's something special you'd like to see at Kafka's Coffee & Tea—

something you've tasted,
something you've heard about,
something you've seen here or elsewhere, or
something straight from your imagination

—leave me a comment below and I'll see what I can do.

The Casual Baker

Come hell or hot weather

2010-07-14T16:37:00.004+02:00

Sometimes things don't work out the way we planned for good reason. Take that flat of strawberries from a few weeks ago that ended up as pie instead of semifreddo like I intended.

"Now why did I have to go and do that?" I thought to myself. Turns out it was all part of a master plan.

Last week, the temperature spiked as Vancouver welcomed its first heat wave of the season. A blistering walk up and down the sunny side of Main Street to the Wednesday afternoon market yielded two large cartons of ruby red strawberries. It was a misshapen, end-of-season bunch for sure, but no less tasty than prettier predecessors. No matter anyway, because these berries were going places.

Namely the pot (for a little cooking), then the counter (for a little cooling) while I set to work on the stovetop custard. A few folds with a spatula and a little (or a lot) of whipped cream later, we were well on our way to semifreddo. There was, of course, that pesky overnight wait, but all was forgiven with our first frosty bite on Thursday evening.

For the encore performance with friends, on Sunday, I topped each slice with a scoop of fresh berries. I'd encourage you to skip to the end and start right there.

Recipe and source: Just like they do it over at Fine Cooking.

Divinity

2010-07-06T18:34:00.006+02:00

Divinity candy is an American creation that appeared on the scene right around the same time as corn syrup, in the early 20th century. No surprise there, since the relatively flavourless syrup is a key ingredient in the confection. In fact, early Karo cooking brochures apparently featured a divinity recipe, and the current Karo website does too.

Corn syrup has been a pariah of the food world these past few years. For a straightforward discussion on when you might want/need to use corn syrup as well as David Lebovitz's personal philosophy on the issue (which I share), check out his 2009 post titled Why and When to Use (or Not Use) Corn Syrup. Obviously 1/2 cup of corn syrup is hardly a judicious quantity, but I don't see myself making chocolate divinity candy a habit. So what the heck.

After the fact, I learned that divinity candy can be a bit fickle when it comes to setting. Mine seemed to hold its shape just fine, although it remained quite soft (think Three Musketeers). Having nothing to compare it to, I declare my version a victory.

Chocolate Divinity Candy

4 ounces semi-sweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup water
2 cups sugar
1/2 cup white corn syrup
2 egg whites
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla

Line a cookie sheet with lightly greased parchment paper. Set aside.

Melt chocolate in a heatproof bowl over barely simmering water, stirring until smooth. Remove from heat and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, combine water, sugar and corn syrup. Boil over high heat, without stirring, until the temperature reaches 255 degrees Fahrenheit.

While the sugar mixture is boiling, whip the egg whites and salt in a large heatproof bowl until foamy.

When the sugar mixture reaches temperature, carefully pour it into the egg whites in a steady stream while beating on medium-high speed. (It's best to pour the hot liquid down the side of the bowl so that it doesn't splash up.)

Once all the liquid has been added, beat on high speed until glossy, thick and cool (about 7 minutes). Beat in the melted chocolate and vanilla.

Use a pastry bag with an extra wide tip, or a Ziploc bag with the corner snipped, to pipe small peaks onto the prepared cookie sheet. Let sit at room temperature for 2 hours before packing the divinity candy away in an airtight container.

Candy will keep for up to one week at room temperature.

Source: Food & Drink, Holiday 2009, p. 110.

A break from our regularly scheduled programming

2010-06-25T23:18:00.002+02:00

for something salty.

Carrot-and-Ginger Quickie Pickles
3 medium carrots
3 ounces fresh ginger, thinly sliced
2 cups water
1/2 cup white vinegar
1/2 cup white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon sea salt
1 tablespoon sugar

Wash and peel your carrots, then use the vegetable peeler to create long strips. Gather these ribbons in a heatproof bowl and set aside.

In a small saucepan, combine the sliced ginger, water, white and white wine vinegars, salt and sugar. Bring to a boil until the sugar and salt dissolve.

Remove the saucepan from the heat and pour the brine through a sieve onto the carrot ribbons. Discard the captured ginger and make sure all of the carrots are submerged in liquid.

Let cool to room temperature. Store in a closed container for up to two weeks in the fridge.

Source: Ever so slightly adapted from Kitchen Scraps: A Humorous Illustrated Cookbook by Pierre A. Lamielle, which incidentally is a comic read.

Sidetracked by strawberry rhubarb pie

2010-06-20T21:56:00.003+02:00

If you're on the fence about rhubarb, then strawberry rhubarb pie might be just the thing to push you over the edge. It's what finally ended my lifelong ban on the mouth-puckering wannabe fruit.* In fact, I've become so enamoured that the strawberries I had mentally earmarked for this semifreddo took a detour into this pie and, well, my mouth. We'll come back to that semifreddo another time, I'm sure.

In the meantime, this pie is nothing to shake a stick at. If you can hold out until it's cooled, you'll be rewarded with a handsome, ooze-free slice. Otherwise expect some spillover, which mingles nicely with the ice cream anyways. A win-win situation, really, which is a good thing since a whole pie for two people is a whole lotta pie folks.

As it was, this pie gave me an excuse to try out the smear pastry technique demonstrated over at I made that! I could see the idea going over well in an anger management course: take out your aggression on the butter, then drown your sorrow in a puddle of pie and ice cream.

Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

Pastry:
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup unsalted butter, cubed and chilled

Egg wash:
1 egg yolk
1 teaspoon water
coarse sugar (optional)

Filling:
4 cups sliced or quartered strawberries
3 cups sliced rhubarb (1cm slices)
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/3 cup cornstarch
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup white sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt

To prepare the pastry, follow the aforementioned smear technique. While your dough is cooling its jets in your fridge, let's get on that filling.

Wash, top and slice the strawberries and rhubarb. (Rhubarb is a lot like celery when it comes to preparation: remove both ends and use a knife or vegetable peeler to remove some of the coarser fibres from the length of the stalk.) Lightly toss the fruit with the cornstarch, sugars and salt until evenly coated. Set aside while you prepare the pie shell.

I'm loving the look of lattice-topped pies these days, so that's what I made. They're also a good choice if you're worried about too much liquid (i.e., particularly juicy strawberries) and/or not enough thickener (in this case, cornstarch) in the filling. More evaporation potential, or so I presume.

For that polished golden glow, brush the lattice top generously with egg wash and sprinkle (or not) with coarse sugar.

* That's right, you heard me. Rhubarb is a vegetable.

p.s. Everything I know about rhubarb, I learned from Spilled Milk.

p.p.s. Just happened upon this lovely little tart. Maybe we'll give something like that a try once you're totally on board with rhubarb.

Source: Based on Lattice-Topped Strawberry-Rhubarb Pie at Epicurious.com, originally published in Bon Appétit, April 1997.

Homemade + Oreos = Moreos

2010-06-12T22:38:00.002+02:00

I don't spend much time trying to re-create treats from the grocery store cookie aisle, partly because I've never tried the vast majority of them, and mostly because what I have tried has been entirely forgettable. (Equal parts "I couldn't remember that if I tried" and "Please don't make me".)

Then there are Oreos, which I love. I don't completely understand the attraction myself, but suspect it has something to do with the sharp contrast of the super sweet filling and intensely chocolate—almost salty—biscuit. There is also, of course, a certain joy that comes with splitting the halves and nibbling one wafer plain, all in the name of a better icing-to-cookie ratio in round two. These ratios, they're a recurring theme with me.

Oreos

Chocolate wafers:
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 egg

Filling:
1/4 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/4 cup vegetable shortening
2 cups icing sugar, sifted
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Notes: I was amazed how much these tasted like the real deal. Texture-wise, they're crunchy but have a pleasing give that's absent from the store-bought variety.

Source: Recipe from My Baking Addiction, who got it from Smitten Kitchen, who got it from Wayne Brachman's Retro Desserts.

Nip and tuck

2010-05-31T19:53:00.004+02:00

I generally like to come here with something new, but today I'm revisiting an idea that I first blogged about back in 2007. At that time, R. and I were living in Paris and I was baking with a toaster oven, appropriately romanticized by this francophile (well, by the French landlord too) as a four électrique. Oh, and I was having some flour trouble too.

I'm still pretty into the idea of chocolate and ginger, but wasn't sure how well my original recipe would work here in my Vancouver kitchen. And why court disaster in the kitchen when it arrives easily enough on its own? So I gave my chocolate chunk gingerbread cookie formula a facelift, North American-style.

If the before and after is any indication, it a was a worthwhile procedure.

Chocolate Chip Gingerbread Cookies, Redux

1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
1/2 cup white sugar
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons cornstarch
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and line a cookie sheet with parchment.

In a large bowl, cream the butter and two sugars on medium-high speed until light and fluffy. Add the egg and molasses, and beat until smooth.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, ginger, cinnamon, allspice, baking soda, cornstarch and salt.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and beat on low speed, then medium speed, until incorporated. The dough will be fairly stiff at this point. Stir in the chocolate chips.

Use your hands to form small balls, about the size of an unshelled walnut (8-12 per cookie sheet).

Bake for 10-12 minutes, until the cookies are just barely golden around the edges. Let cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before moving to a rack to cool completely.

Notes + sources: Alright, so it was more than a little nip and tuck. More like reconstructive surgery. I started more or less from scratch, using the spice ratios from the Chocolate Chip Ginger-Molasses Cookies over at Orangette and drawing on my go-to Chocolate Chip Cookie recipe (from Anna Olson's Sugar cookbook) for the cornstarch trick.

Blueberry amandine tart

2010-05-19T12:37:00.004+02:00

The last time we met, I was in the midst of clearing my freezer of last summer's berries to make room for this year's loot.

With the cranberry situation under control, I could zero in on the rest of those blueberries.

So it's Saturday afternoon and our friends are coming for dinner. Two hours to showtime and I'm still flipping through cookbooks trying to figure out dessert.

Then I remember this Blueberry Amandine Tart from Clotilde Dusoulier's first book, Chocolate & Zucchini.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Notes: I ran my frozen blueberries under hot water and then set them in a colander over a bowl to drain while I prepared the pastry and filling.

Making space

2010-05-12T19:51:00.003+02:00

A few days ago was our first BBQ of the year, which means two things.

1. The start of what I like to call meat season, where we consume approximately double the meat we normally do simply because grilled beast is like no other.

2. Time to clean out the freezer.

It's an annual ritual that begins the previous summer, at the height of berry season. That's when I may appear to be enjoying a bowl of blueberries and yogurt, but inwardly I'm panicking about what I'll do come autumn when my supply runs dry.

Conditioned by my parents who have almost an entire chest freezer dedicated to berries—in addition to one dedicated to meat—and still sometimes store overflow at the neighbours', I start bagging and freezing. Strawberries? Blueberries? Raspberries? Doesn't matter. Fill'er up.

Our fridge freezer is pretty tiny and it has these annoying little drawers, which I suspect are meant to impose order on the frigid Wild West that is the average person's freezer. You know, to keep the breadcrumbs from mingling with the chicken breasts before they're ready to debut as chicken strips. Stuff like that. Mine just cramp my flash freezing style. Anyway...

Where we headed here? Right, so I jam every last corner with carefully packaged berries to carry us through the bleak period known as October-April, and then they just sit there. The fact of the matter is, by the time autumn rolls around, I've pretty much had my fill of summer fruit. A tart crunchy apple is starting to sound like a welcome change of pace.

It's usually around February, when I'm trying to find a spot for some leftover chili, that I first rediscover (and usually curse) this treasure trove of frozen fruit. Finishing last summer's berries inevitably becomes this spring's first chore.

The sweeter berries are easy enough to get through with our weekend breakfasts of pancakes and waffles. But sometimes come spring, I find that my hoarding spree stretched to include cranberries. This May, for example, I discovered that I was seduced not once, but twice, by post-Thanksgiving sales of the mouth-puckering red marbles. Two half-full bags leered up at me from freezer drawer no 2., smug in their frosty beds of ice.

Fortunately there's this loaf for just such an attitude. It's a particularly tasty one with crunchy ends, a sweet vanilla scent and stripes of tangy cranberry filling. Nothing mulled or spiced, not a trace of Thanksgiving or Christmas.

After all, who in their right mind is thinking about such things this time of year?

Cranberry-Striped Vanilla Loaf
2 cups cranberries, fresh or thawed
1 3/4 cups sugar
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup milk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and line a loaf pan with parchment paper, and set aside.

In a food processor, pulse the cranberries with 1/2 cup of sugar until finely chopped. Don't purée! Transfer to a sieve and let the juices drain into a bowl while you make the batter.

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

In a large bowl, beat the butter and remaining 1 1/4 cups of sugar until light and fluffy (about 5-8 minutes). Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each. Mix in the vanilla.

Mixing on low speed, add the flour mixture and milk alternately in batches, beginning and ending with flour and mixing just until incorporated.

Spread one-third of the batter evenly in the loaf pan. Top with half of the drained cranberry mixture, leaving a 1/2-inch border along the sides. Cover completely with another third of batter. Top with the remaining cranberry mixture, once again leaving a 1/2-inch border along the sides. Cover completely with the remaining batter and smooth.

Bake for 1 to 1 1/4 hours, or until golden brown and a tester inserted in the centre comes out clean. Cool in the pan on a rack for 30 minutes, then flip the loaf out to cool completely before slicing.

Source: Cranberry Coffeecake at Epicurious.com, originally published in Gourmet, February 2003.

Eating and economics

2010-05-07T12:18:00.004+02:00

When people find out I have a baking blog, the conversation that follows goes something like this.

Curious person: So you must make a lot of stuff then. How often do you bake?

Me: It depends on my schedule, but usually anywhere from 2 to 4 times a week.

CP: That often?! How are you not a blimp?

At this point, I usually say something about sharing treats with friends or packing up a few slices for R.'s office. But let's pretend we're economists for a moment, and take a look at the bigger picture. It'll be painless, I promise.

--------------------

Fact #1: Owning a car is expensive.

We don't own a car and I really like to walk. Even when it's raining, especially when it's raining. That's when public transit and the people who ride it are at their worst. Think foggy windows, slippery floors, damp coats and drippy umbrellas. Yes walking takes longer, but it clears my head and opens my eyes to things I'd never notice otherwise. Since I view walking as transportation and not exercise, I end up covering a lot of ground without even thinking about it. Before I left my most recent office job, for example, my daily commute was about 7 kilometres round trip on foot. What about exercise, you ask? Yeah, I do that too, in moderation.

Reality #1: I move around a lot.

--------------------

Fact #2: Most food you buy at a grocery store is not taxed. Eating out at a restaurant is.

Which, as a friend's professor once said, makes cooking a state-subsidized hobby of sorts. I like to cook mostly because I enjoy time in the kitchen and think homemade usually tastes better, but also because I can determine what goes into my food. It's an important point, especially when you consider research like this. (And contrary to popular belief, I do make more than cookies and cakes. You just don't see it on The Casual Baker!) Don't get me wrong. I like to eat out and have been known to scarf down a few Cheezies in my day, but it's the exception not the norm.

Reality #2: I make most things I eat, whether meals or treats.

--------------------

Fact #3: Food has a diminishing marginal utility.

Say what? Basically, your enjoyment of a food decreases with each bite. Think about a slice of cheesecake. The first forkful is incredible. The sour tang bursts on your taste buds and the velvety smoothness slides across your tongue. You reach eagerly for another bite, and the next. Now fast forward a few bites. You're about 2/3 through the slice and the pause between forkfuls is lengthening. The cheesecake still tastes good at this point, but it's considerably less revelatory. This is usually when I jam the rest in the fridge and take it out again the next day for a mid-afternoon snack so that I can have that first-bite experience all over again.

Reality #3: I eat to enjoy food.

--------------------

I think it's this same principle that leads me to bake in half-batches quite often. Not only do I not need to eat 3 brownies a day for the next week, I don't really want to. I'd much rather be tasting something new.

Like Smitten Kitchen's Cheesecake-Marbled Brownies. Half the brownies, but equally as good.

Notes: A loaf pan is the perfect vessel for halving an 8-inch pan recipe. To avoid messy division, I used a full 2 ounces of chocolate in the brownie batter and an entire egg yolk in the cheesecake component with no ill effects.

Cappuccino macarons

2010-04-22T23:14:00.008+02:00

Remember back in March, when I said there was something tasty in the works? Well there was, but it took a little longer than expected to get back to it. There was an Easter weekend in Ontario and a mini vacation to Chicago, with a killer workweek on either side. Like bookends.

On to the next shelf, I say. The one with cookbooks.

Thank goodness (in more ways than one) for our wine group. R. and I were on the hosting block, and a tea party-themed menu seemed the perfect match for our spring white picks. There were finger sandwiches, apricot tea scones and cappuccino macarons to finish.

And finish them we did.

Source: When it comes to macarons, Julia over at Mélanger has what I think is the best online how to. I gave her Italian method a go this time, and found it to be quite forgiving! For the buttercream, I adapted a recipe from Helen over at Tartelette.

Substitutions and additions: In the macarons, a squirt of lemon juice in place of the egg white powder, plus 1/2 teaspoon of espresso powder just before the final mix. In the buttercream, a (relatively short) shot of cooled espresso plus 1/2 teaspoon of espresso powder in place of the vanilla/violet liqueur.

Jam drops for Easter

2010-04-05T18:34:00.011+02:00

Well, your Easter maybe.

I made these well over a week ago myself. March 23 to be exact, which I know only thanks to iPhoto and the magic that is digital time stamping. My own mental cataloguing system has been on the fritz these past few weeks.

In my experience, this faulty neural filing most commonly occurs when deadlines converge unexpectedly, causing the workday to stretch into workevening and evolve into worknight only to blend into workday again.

In this freelance netherworld, sleep is reduced to a wink and time is divvied by deadlines rather than days. By the time you remember to start blinking, your eyes have already developed that faint sandpaper sensation that makes closing them rather uncomfortable. The trudge from computer to kitchen to washroom becomes a much-anticipated diversion. Before long, you find yourself spooning cereal in the wee hours and craving a hamburger for breakfast.

Fortunately these whirlwinds have a way of disappearing almost as quickly as they develop, leaving a stack of dirty espresso cups and a sigh of relief behind.

That was Thursday. Today's Easter Monday and I still have a full week of vacation on the horizon. A chance to re-charge before the weather turns again.

Jam Drops
1 cup sugar
1 cup butter, unsalted
2 eggs
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder

jam (I used blackberry jamelly)
sweetened coconut

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Line baking sheets with parchment or silicone sheets and set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar. Mix in the eggs one at a time, beating well after each. Add the flour and baking powder and mix just until combined.

Pour the sweetened coconut into a small bowl. Roll the dough into golf ball-sized spheres and drop them, one at a time, into the bowl of coconut. Make sure some coconut adheres to the outside of each ball, pressing lightly if necessary.

Set the balls on the prepared cookie sheets (12 per sheet). Use your thumb to make a small indentation in the centre of each ball, being careful not to crack the cookie. Fill the indentation with jam using a small spoon.

Bake at 375 degrees for 12 minutes, then broil for 1-2 minutes to brown the coconut. Watch them carefully!

Source: Mom's recipe file.

Notes: When I went to bake these cookies, I realized that Mom's recipe had been lost in The great MacBook Crash of Spring 2009. I went with something similar from an online source, but the original—collected later and described above—is still the best.

Slow on the draw

2010-03-21T01:22:00.007+01:00

Dear Casual Baker,

St. Patrick's Day came and went 4 days ago already. What am I supposed to do with green velvet cupcakes now?

Sincerely,

Reader on a Rampage

*********

Dear ROAR,

An interesting question. The good news is that St. Patrick's Day is an annual event, so you're in good shape for March 17, 2011.

*she shrugs and smiles*

Hey, I just make the stuff.

Bisous,

The Casual Baker

**********

Green Velvet Cupcakes

3 large egg whites, at room temperature
2 tablespoons green food colouring
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 cups cake flour
1 cup superfine sugar
3 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon cocoa
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup canola oil
1/4 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line up your lightly greased silicone muffins cups on cookie sheets (or line your muffin tins with paper liners) and set aside.

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

In a second medium bowl, whisk the egg whites, green food colouring and vanilla until lightly combined. Set aside.

In a large bowl, use an electric or stand mixer to beat the oil and butter on medium speed for 1 minute. Add the dry ingredients, followed by the buttermilk. Mix on low speed until the dry ingredients are moistened. Increase the speed to medium and beat for 1 1/2 minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary.

Add the egg mixture to the batter in two parts, mixing on medium speed for 30 seconds between each addition.

Scoop the batter into the prepared muffin cups, filling them 2/3-3/4 full.

Bake until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean (about 15-20 minutes for minis or 20-25 minutes for full-size cupcakes). Cool completely before frosting.

White Chocolate Frosting

170 grams white chocolate (6 1-ounce squares)
250 grams cream cheese (1 box)
1/4 cup unsalted butter
1 tablespoon sour cream
1/4 teaspoon almond extract

Roughly chop the chocolate and then melt it gently in the top of a double boiler, stirring often. Remove from heat and stir until fully melted. Allow the chocolate to cool until it is no longer warm to the touch, but still fluid.

In a food processor, briefly mix the cream cheese, butter and sour cream until smooth and creamy. Scrape down the sides. Add the cooled melted white chocolate and and pulse to mix. Add the almond extract and pulse again to mix.

Yields about 10 mini + 10 full-size cupcakes.

Source: Rose Red Velvet Cake and Dreamy White Chocolate Frosting in Rose's Heavenly Cakes by Rose Levy Beranbaum, pp. 83-85.

Notes: I will echo Ms. Levy Beranbaum's warning to use high-quality white chocolate that contains cocoa butter for best results.

Something tasty in the works

2010-03-11T17:07:00.003+01:00

I haven't forgotten you, really and truly.

It's just that I'd like to spend a bit more time with these nippers (well, the recipe) before I pat them on their fragile heads and send them out into the world.

The big reveal.

Mixed berry pie

2010-03-04T09:40:00.001+01:00

Warning: This is a convoluted tale with a tenuous connection to pie, and really no link at all to mixed berry pie. In fact, tenuous might be an exaggeration. Consider yourself warned.

It begins and ends with an empty plate.

This empty plate sat on my desk in Vancouver, beside a Conan (as in O'Brien) mug half-filled with cold coffee, at approximately 10:30am on Tuesday, February 16.

A mere 6 1/2 minutes before, it looked something like this.

And 5 3/4 minutes before that, something like this.

A mixed berry concoction that was honestly one of the tastiest pies I've ever made, which is perhaps how I arrived at any empty plate just 12 1/4 minutes into the "photo shoot". (Aside: I considered a scoop of vanilla ice cream, but decided it was too early in the morning.)

But like I said before, this post isn't really about mixed berry pie, or pie at all for that matter. No, it's about empty plates and what's left behind.

I'd rate this particular one a bit messy. If you scroll back up for a second, you can see how some filling got away from me there near the rim, where the plate curves too steeply for the pie fork. I'm usually quite tidy, carefully scraping up all digestible sugar matter as I go, after each bite.

You know sometimes how the littlest detail--a scent, a flavour, a song, a colour--can take you back to another time and place? It was like that with this plate.

It was June 2008 and R. and I had just finished walking 800 kilometres of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain. After a few days of rest in Portugal, we headed back to Paris to gather our things, say farewell to friends and have one last go at our favourite foods. That's how we found ourselves dining at Le Poisson Rouge just a few days before we headed back to Canada.

For a time, Le Poisson Rouge had a regular spot in the weekday lunch rotation. The restaurant was especially popular with the Anglos in the office--particularly the Brits--for its steak and mash. If I'm honest though, the real reason we kept going back was the glorious fondant au chocolat.

There were the inevitable comparisons as spoons cracked fondants. Whose had the runniest centre? Whose was overbaked? And then came the analysis of each finished plate as, one by one, owners pushed them away and sat back in their chairs to sip their cafés. Points for clean, tidy plates with no crumbs and even spacing between spoon strokes. Bonus points for creative deviations from the traditional back and forth pattern demonstrated above.

A vote. A victor declared.

A full stomach. A happy heart. An empty plate.

Source: Adapted from Mixed Berry Pie with Pecan Orange Lattice Crust at Epicurious.com, originally published in Bon Appétit, November 1998.

Notes: I kept the lattice top, but used plain pastry. For the filling, I used 2 cups cranberries, 2 cups blueberries and 2 cups strawberries (measured frozen, then defrosted) and substituted blackberry jelly for the marmalade because that's what I had in the freezer/fridge.

X's and O's

2010-02-12T15:04:00.002+01:00

I'll be honest, I'm on the fence when it comes to Valentine's Day.

On one hand, I sympathize with the Valentine Scrooges of the world who say bah humbug to pink and red, bows and frills, chocolates, roses and dinners out. The ones who see tic tac toe—not hugs and kisses—in the X's and O's.

That said, it's important to acknowledge the ones you love. Arguably it should be a daily ritual of small gestures and not an annual flurry of food, wine and sappy sentiment, but we can all use a good kick in the pants to keep us on track.

I like to think of Valentine's Day as a little nudge, a friendly reminder to be good to the people in your life.

Failing that, just eat pink-frosted cupcakes and call it a day.

Vanilla Butter Cakes with Strawberry Buttercream

Cupcakes:
2 eggs, at room temperature
2/3 cup yogurt or sour cream
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup superfine (berry) sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup unsalted butter

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line 16 muffin tins with paper cups, or set out 16 silicone muffin cups on a baking sheet.

In a small bowl, whisk together the eggs, 3 tablespoons of the yogurt or sour cream, and the vanilla just until combined.

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add the butter and remaining yogurt or sour cream and mix on low until the dry ingredients are moistened. Increase the speed to medium and beat for 1 1/2 minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed.

Add the egg mixture in 2 parts, beating on medium speed for 30 seconds after each addition.

Fill the muffin cups about 3/4 full. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean.

Cool the cupcakes in/on the pan for 10 minutes, before moving to a rack to cool completely before frosting.

Buttercream:
3 egg yolks
1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons superfine (berry) sugar
1/4 golden syrup
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup strawberries, fresh or frozen

In a blender, puree the strawberries until smooth. Strain through a fine sieve to remove seeds, pressing the pulp to get all of the juice out. Set aside. Note: If you're using frozen strawberries, defrost and drain them first.

In a medium heatproof bowl, beat the yolks on high speed with electric beaters until light in colour. Set aside.

Lightly grease a heatproof glass measuring cup (1 cup volume) and set aside.

In a small saucepan, combine the sugar, golden syrup and lemon juice. Stir the sugar until moistened. Heat over medium-high, stirring constantly, until the sugar dissolves and the syrup begins to bubble around the edges. Stop stirring completely and continue cooking for a few minutes until the syrup comes to a rolling boil (i.e., the entire surface is covered in large bubbles). Immediately transfer the syrup to the glass measuring cup to stop the boiling.

Add a very small amount of syrup to the egg yolks and immediately beat on high speed for 5 seconds. Add the rest of the syrup in a thin steady stream, beating continuously on medium-high speed. Don't let the syrup fall on the beaters or they will spin it onto the sides of the bowl, where it will harden! Continue beating on high for 5 minutes. Set aside to cool completely.

When the outside of the bowl feels cool, beat in the butter 1 tablespoon at a time on medium-high speed. The buttercream will not thicken until almost all of the butter has been added. Add the strawberry puree, 1 teaspoon at a time, until the desired consistency and/or flavour is reached.

Note: A few things to keep in mind: My cupcakes were quite dense, especially compared to the fluffy buttercream. The strawberry flavour is also fairly subtle. A concentrated strawberry paste would amp up the intensity considerably.

Source: Yellow Butter Cakes and Golden Neoclassic Buttercream (adapted) in Rose's Heavenly Cakes by Rose Levy Beranbaum, pp. 295, 299-300.

Trouble with a lower case 'n'

2010-02-05T20:09:00.003+01:00

I can't be trusted around a jar of nutella. So if you're going on vacation, it's best you find a different sitter.

Otherwise you can expect all kinds of crazy.

And I won't be held responsible.

Thanks to Sara from Ms. Adventures in Italy and Michelle from Bleeding Espresso, today is the 4th annual World Nutella Day. So grab your spoons and get thee to the closest jar.

Nutella Crater Cookies

12 ounces icing sugar
2 ounces cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 egg whites, at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla
nutella!

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Whisk together the icing sugar, cocoa powder and salt. Use a stand or electric mixer to beat in the egg whites, one at a time, on low. The mixture will be extremely dry until all of the egg whites have been added, so just do your best. Add the vanilla. Beat on high for 2 minutes. The mixture will lighten in colour as you go.

Drop by heaping teaspoonful onto the prepared baking sheet, leaving lots of room for the cookies to spread as they bake. (I found 8 per sheet was a good number.) Drop a small nob of nutella into the centre of each cookie. Now into the oven.

The original directions suggest a 15-minute baking time, but I would check them after 12 minutes and go from there. Remove from the oven and let them cool on the baking sheets.

Yields around 24 cookies.

Source: Bake Space via How Sweet It Is, adapted by me for World Nutella Day.

Banana pancakes (blueberries + hearts optional)

2010-01-31T22:20:00.006+01:00

Some weekends, the universe conspires for there to be blueberry banana pancakes.

On Saturday, we woke up to a grey sky, the pitter patter of rain on the skylight, and the earnest meows of a hungry cat. Bleary-eyed, I shuffled to the laundry room and filled her dish with food. Standing at the kitchen sink with her water bowl, I noticed a lone black banana lying forlornly on the counter.

I'd say it was a light bulb moment, but I wasn't nearly awake enough for anything quite so dramatic. It was more of a candle moment, a flicker of an idea.

By this time I'd located my slippers but not my sweater, so I shuffled over to the fireplace next. Hearing the pop of the gas, the cat came running just in time to see the fake wood burst into flame.

Kind of like that idea in my head.

You hardly even notice
When I try to show you
This song is meant to keep ya
From doing what you're supposed to
Waking up too early
Maybe we can sleep
Make you banana pancakes
Pretend like it's the weekend now
We can pretend it all the time
Can't you see that it's just raining
Ain't no need to go outside...

-Jack Johnson

Peter Pancakes
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg
2 tablespoons butter or margarine, melted
1 tablespoon honey
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 3/4 cups buttermilk
1/2 cup ripe banana, mashed

blueberries, fresh or frozen

Drizzle a bit of oil into a frying pan over low-medium heat.

In a small bowl, whisk together the flours, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk the egg, melted butter, honey, vanilla and buttermilk.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir just until combined. Those little lumps you see are A-OK. Good even.

In a small bowl mash the banana(s) with a fork. Measure out 1/2 cup and fold it into the batter. (If you add more banana, expect a denser pancake.)

Once you've poured the first round of pancakes into the frying pan, lightly press a few blueberries into each one. Cook the pancakes until golden, flipping once when bubbles begin to appear on the surface. I like to take my time cooking pancakes over a low-ish heat. That way, you're sure to have cooked centres.

Notes: Anyone who has spent any time with me knows that I am completely unwilling to sacrifice taste to save on fat or calories in food. Despite being from a low-fat cookbook, this recipe won't disappoint.

Source: Crazy Plates by Janet & Greta Podleski.

Cranachan, for Robbie Burns Day

2010-01-25T18:45:00.001+01:00

Last night, my uncle G. and his partner A. hosted their 2nd annual Robbie Burns Day dinner complete with haggis, neeps and tatties, and a dram to celebrate the Scottish bard.

R. was in charge of the customary Toast to the Lassies, and I dessert.
Having exhausted my Scottish repertoire with last year's rosemary shortbread, I did what any self-respecting Gen Y baker would do: tweeted for help.

First to respond? Direct from the bonnie land, Jenny C. of Red Mangetout.

Her suggestion?
"Cranachan. Raspberries, cream and oats all mushed up together."

Authentic? Check.
Easy? Check.
Good for a crowd? Check.
Well suited to travel by public transit? Well, can't win them all I guess.

After sifting through a dozen or so recipes online, it became clear I was going to have to wing it. Some versions called for enough whisky to souse a sailor, others just a drop of drambuie or raspberry liqueur. The plain toasted oats that some deemed endearing, others found bland. Nearly every recipe* called for fresh raspberries and crowdie cheese (a soft cheese with a mildly sour flavour), neither of which were going to be easy to locate in Vancouver in the dead of winter.

What I ended up with was an exceedingly rich—but not overly sweet—trifle that went down like a dream. Good enough to keep the diners happy and the Scottish grandparents from rolling over in their graves. I hope.

Cranachan

3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons honey
2 1/2 cups oats, large flake

2 cups whipping cream
550 grams mascarpone cheese (2 tubs)
1/4 cup honey
1/4-1/3 cup drambuie, to taste

3 cups frozen raspberries, defrosted and drained of most of their juice

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

In a small saucepan over low-medium heat, melt the butter and honey. Remove from heat and stir in the oats until evenly coated. Spread the mixture evenly across a baking sheet. Bake for 15-20 minutes or until golden, stirring once after 10 minutes. Pour the granola into a bowl and set aside.

Using electric beaters, whip the cream on high just until it begins to thicken into soft peaks. Add the mascarpone cheese, honey and drambuie and beat on medium speed until thoroughly combined.

In a medium bowl, preferably glass, spread half of the whipped mixture. Cover with half of the raspberries, followed by half of the granola. Repeat the layers in the same order. Cover and refrigerate until served.

Serves 8-10.

Note: The granola softens a bit over time, which I kind of enjoyed. If you prefer some crunch, prepare all of the components (granola, whipped mixture, raspberries) in advance and layer them just before serving. Individual parfaits would be a good option too, but make sure the glasses are small!

* The exception being a Bon Appétit version posted on Epicurious that skipped the berries altogether for a chocolate concoction that bore little resemblance to anything else I came across.

Turn a new leaf, make a fresh start

2010-01-20T06:28:00.012+01:00

Why hello there. Happy 2010.

A bit late to be ringing in the new year, I agree, but I wasn't really expecting anyone to still be hanging around here. How about a round of Auld Lang Syne?

No? Not your thing? Oh right, you're not Scottish are you. No need then, really.

I'm sort of like the friend you keep calling who never phones you back. Eventually you stop bothering, she barely notices, and the whole thing fizzles. Glad you persevered though and made it through that rough patch.

Let's turn a new leaf, make a fresh start.

We could call it a new year's resolution, I guess, but I'd rather not. Resolutions, like rules, are made to be broken and I'd hate to start off on the wrong foot.

Right then, peanut butter blondies.

Peanut Butter Blondies with Butterscotch Ganache

Blondies:

3/4 cup peanut butter
3/4 cup salted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

Ganache:
1 cup butterscotch chips
3 tablespoons cream

Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a 9-inch x 13-inch pan with parchment, creasing the corners so that they lie flat. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat the peanut butter and butter until light and fluffy. Add the sugars and whip until combined. Add the eggs and vanilla and beat until smooth.

In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and baking soda.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix until combined. The batter will be fairly thick.

Pour/spread the batter into the prepared pan and smooth with a spatula.

Bake for 30-35 minutes, or until the edges begin to pull away from the sides of the pan and the centre is set but not firm. Transfer the pan to a wire rack to cool completely.

When the blondie is cool, prepare the butterscotch ganache. In the top of a double boiler over low-medium heat, stir the butterscotch chips just until melted. Remove from heat, stir until smooth and immediately pour over the cooled blondie.

Refrigerate until set. Cut into squares. Or diamonds. Hell, I don't care.

Source: My slight variation on a recipe for Peanut Butter Heath Bar Blondies from the Magnolia Bakery Cookbook, which was posted on some random website that I can no longer locate.

Notes: This is half of the original recipe, because a jelly roll pan of peanut butter blondies is too many blondies unless you've got takers already lined up. Between the liberties I've taken with the term ganache and my profligate use of butterscotch chips, it's likely someone has fainted by now. Hopefully there were no bumped heads on the way down. Sometimes I wonder if anyone actually reads all the way down here. Let me know, will you?

There's still hope.

2009-12-15T23:14:00.012+01:00

I was considering titling this post spiraling out of control, but then thought better of it. Kind of negative sounding, and misleading too.

It's true that it's a busy time of year. There are out-of-town friends passing through for a visit and we're leaving town ourselves for the holidays. There's also a strong possibility that I've bitten off a few more projects that I can comfortably chew. In fact, I'm working through a rather large mouthful in another window right now (God bless open apple + tab).

Fortunately there's also...

...sweet 'n spicy pretzels and rosemary raisin pecan crisps

...nanaimo bars and shortbread

...clodhoppers and ginger caramels

...and (I hope) some sour cream twists on one of those holiday mornings in my not-too-distant future.

Speaking of hope, please head on over to Chez Pim to learn more about this year's Menu for Hope, which runs December 14-25.

Until next year,

The Casual Baker

The life cycle of a ginger caramel, in photos

2009-12-02T12:25:00.002+01:00

It occurred to me, while unwrapping my 6th or 7th caramel of the day just now, that this business of packaging caramels individually in little squares of waxed paper is completely unnecessary.

You measure and slice...

...wrap wrap wrap and twist twist twist...
(which, incidentally, is harder than it looks. 40 caramels later and mine still looked lopsided.)

...only to reverse the whole process when the fancy strikes.
(if you're me, that's soon and often.)

Where is the sense in that?

Ginger Caramels
1 cup whipping cream
5 tablespoons salted butter, cut into pieces
2 teaspoons fresh ginger, peeled and grated with a microplane zester
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1/4 cup water

Line an 8-inch square pan with lightly greased parchment paper.

In a small saucepan, combine the cream, butter and ginger. Heat on low-medium, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is about to boil. Remove from heat and set aside.

In a medium saucepan, combine the sugar, corn syrup and water. Heat on medium, stirring until the sugar is dissolved. From this point on, avoid stirring and instead gently swirl the pan every so often. Increase the heat and boil the mixture until it is golden in colour.

Reduce the heat and immediately stir in the cream mixture (the contents will bubble up quite high). Simmer, stirring frequently, until the caramel registers 248 degrees Fahrenheit (about 10-15 minutes). You may have to increase the heat slightly to achieve this temperature, but do so slowly over time.

Pour the caramel into the prepared baking pan. Cool at room temperature for at least 2 hours.

Cut the caramel into 1-inch pieces and wrap each piece in a 4-inch square of wax paper, twisting the ends to close.

Yields about 40 caramels.

Notes: If ginger isn't your thing, simply leave it out. The world will remain intact. Promise.

Things that are unclear

2009-11-24T12:36:00.008+01:00

When I will grow up.
What my dream job is.
How to figure out no. 2.
Whether no. 1-3 are worth worrying about.

And, more importantly:

Why anyone would want to make maple cottage pudding after seeing...
...this fuzzy photo.

But trust me, you should. It's delicious on its own, but even better flipped upside down with a scoop of vanilla ice cream nestled on top of the warm maple ooze. Which, incidentally, is also better than it looks and sounds.

Maple Cottage Pudding
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
3 tablespoons sugar
1 egg, lightly beaten
2/3 cup milk
1 cup flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup walnuts, coarsely chopped (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Cream butter in a medium bowl. Stir in the sugar, egg and milk. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir just until combined.

Pour the maple syrup into an 8-inch round metal baking pan and bring to a boil on the stovetop. Remove from heat. Quickly pour the batter into the hot syrup, spreading it evenly over the bottom of the pan.

Bake for 30 minutes. Flip onto a plate, syrup side up, and sprinkle with nuts (optional) while still warm.

Note: I used a combination of Abbott Family Sugar Maple Syrup from R.'s parents' place in Orillia, Ontario and Uncle Mike's Genuine Bigleaf Maple Syrup from Inniss Maplery in Bradner, Abbotsford.

Pâte de pomme et de coing (apple-quince jellies)

2009-11-16T18:36:00.011+01:00

As I discovered last night, making pâte de fruit from scratch is not for the faint of heart. It's not difficult, just time-consuming. Even knowing what I know now, though, I'd still make them again.

I used a recipe from The Art of Simple Food by Alice Waters, via Not Without Salt—with a few adjustments.

Instead of straight apple, I used a mixture of apples (2lb) and quince (1lb), cutting the apples in quarters and the quince in eighths to even out their cooking times. Next time, I would not only core but also peel the fruit before cooking to save time later on.

After straining the cooked fruit to remove the skins and any bits of core that I had missed, I blended the mixture in a food processor for even consistency.

During the reduction phase, I kept the heat at medium the entire time and stirred the mixture occasionally. Happy with how my fruit puree had thickened after about 50 minutes, I skipped the baking phase proposed on Not Without Salt and poured the mixture directly into a greased pan.

Lightly greasing the cooking cutters and knife made for smooth slicing in the morning.

For those with a bit less time or patience, Sweet Pleasure: Plaisir Sucré posted a version that uses liquid pectin to slash the cooking time considerably.

Note: Girl Cook in Paris posted an interesting piece on what distinguishes different types of pâte de fruit. Learn something new every day.

The inner tube water polo effect

2009-11-10T21:40:00.003+01:00

When we were in university, R. played on the Comm '01 intramural inner tube water polo team. The games were always scheduled at odd times—often late at night—when the prospect of slipping into swimming trunks and splashing around in cold water seemed unappealing (at best) or downright inane (at worst). More often than not, he would drag himself to the pool and return several hours later glad that he had gone. Sometimes it's just getting there that's the hard part.

In this house, we call that the inner tube water polo effect.

I have a similar relationship with paddling. I love paddling and look forward to practice until it's actually time to go, at which point I can't think of anything I want to do less. Tuesday evenings in the dark aren't too bad; it's the Sunday mornings that kill me.

This past Sunday was no exception. I wasn't sold on the idea when I woke at 3am to the persistent trill of a dying cell phone and the thump of raindrops on the skylight, even less so when the cat launched a game of tag on the bed a few hours later. When the alarm finally went off, I'd already been awake for an hour silently negotiating the rain down to a drizzle.

When the weather obliged, I had no choice but to roll out of bed, swaddle myself in neoprene and luon, and head down to street level. Just when I thought A. was going to leave me stranded on the corner, she pulled up in front of the building, seat warmers blazing.

So we made it. And it was good. And I was glad I went.

What does all of this have to do with whoopie pies? Absolutely nothing, except that overcoming the inner tube water polo effect meant I had a good excuse for downing one of these when I got home.

Whoopie Pies

Cakes:
1 1/2 ounces semi-sweet chocolate, chopped
1/2 cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed
1 egg
2 tablespoons canola oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup + 1 1/2 tablespoons flour
3 tablespoons + 2 teaspoons cocoa
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup buttermilk

Marshmallow Cream:
1/4 cup sugar
2 tablespoons corn syrup
1 tablespoon water
1 egg white, at room temperature
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup + 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons icing sugar

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit and line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

Melt the chocolate slowly in a double boiler. Remove from heat and set aside to cool until it is no longer warm to the touch, but is still fluid.

In the meantime, combine the brown sugar, egg, oil and butter in a bowl. Beat on medium speed for 5 minutes. Lower the speed and beat in the melted chocolate.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

Add the dry ingredients to the egg mixture, alternating with the buttermilk, in three additions. Scrape down the side of the bowl, as needed, and beat just until incorporated.

Use half of the batter to form 6 round mounds on the first baking sheet (about 2 tablespoons of dough per cake). Bake for 6 minutes, rotate the pan, and then bake for another 2-4 minutes until the cakes spring back when pressed lightly on top.

In the meantime, get the next pan of cakes ready to go. As soon as the first batch is finished, pop the second pan in the oven.

Let the cakes cool on the their pan for 5-10 minutes before moving them to a wire rack to cool completely. Store cakes in an airtight container until ready to fill.

Before you begin preparing the marshmallow cream, get out a heatproof glass container and put it beside the stove.

Next, combine the sugar, corn syrup and water in a small heavy saucepan. Heat over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the sugar dissolves and the mixture bubbles. Remove from heat temporarily.

In a medium bowl, use a handheld mixer to beat the egg white until foamy. Add the cream of tartar and beat on high until stiff peaks form.

Back to the stovetop. Increase the heat under the sugar syrup and boil until a thermometer registers 250 degrees Fahrenheit. Immediately transfer the syrup to the glass container you have ready and waiting.

Beat the syrup into the meringue in a steady stream without letting the syrup fall on the beaters. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed. Lower the speed slightly and continue beating until the outside of the bowl no longer feels hot (about 3 minutes). Add the vanilla and 1 tablespoon of butter and beat until smooth. Refrigerate the meringue mixture for 8-10 minutes or until it registers about 70 degrees Fahrenheit.

In the meantime, beat the remaining 1/2 cup of butter and icing sugar in a large bowl on medium speed until soft and creamy. Increase speed to high and beat for 2 minutes until the mixture is very light and almost white in colour. Lower the speed to medium, add the meringue and beat until the buttercream is smooth and light in texture (about 10 seconds).

To construct the whoopie pies, mound about 3 tablespoons of marshmallow cream into the centre of a cake. Set a second cake on top and press down lightly until the cream reaches the edges.

Store in an airtight container and serve at room temperature.

Yields 6 whoopie pies.

(I know, all that work for 6 measly whoopie pies. They're massive though.)

Source: Two Fat Cats Whoopie Pies in Rose's Heavenly Cakes by Rose Levy Beranbaum, p. 375.

Cut it out, fall

2009-11-06T16:10:00.001+01:00

Forgive my brevity: I'm afraid my words are required elsewhere these days, and there are only so many to go around.

Maybe some purple houses and orange leaves will help. I've found them quite useful myself.

Iced Sugar Cookies

Dough:
3/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 2/3 cups cake flour (may require a bit more)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt

Royal Icing:
2 egg whites, room temperature
2 teaspoons lemon juice
3 cups icing sugar
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
food colouring

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar until pale. Add the eggs and vanilla and beat until smooth.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix gently. If the dough is still very sticky, add 1 tablespoonful of flour at a time until rolling seems possible. Keep in mind that the dough will firm up when refrigerated, so err on the side of under-flouring.

Divide the dough in two, wrap each disc tightly in plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least 1 hour.

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

Roll the dough out on a floured surface to 1/4". Cut into shapes and carefully transfer the cookies to the baking sheets, leaving at least 1" all the way around.

Bake for 8-12 minutes or until cookies are lightly golden around the edges. Cool on a rack.

To prepare the frosting, beat the egg whites, lemon juice and almond extract until frothy. Slowly add the icing sugar, beating continuously, until the mixture comes together. Add extra icing sugar (or water), as needed, to thicken (or thin) the icing for piping (or flooding). Tint the frosting and decorate the cooled cookies as you wish.

Royal icing can be covered with plastic wrap and stored at room temperature while you decorate.

Source: Butter Cut-Out Cookies in Nigella Lawson's How To Be a Domestic Goddess, p. 212.

A few of my favourite things, 02/11/2009

2009-11-02T22:32:00.006+01:00

Listening to Karen O's Where the Wild Things Are soundtrack.

Reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer.

Looking at things I'll never do on Cucumbersome.

Eating Ambrosia Macaroons.

Concord grape focaccia

2009-10-29T13:18:00.002+01:00

I imagine you're wondering how I came to make concord grape focaccia. I don't blame you. Quite frankly, the concept is sort of weird, especially when you think about it too long and hard. So let's not.

Instead, let's talk about how lovely and sticky the dough was, how it puffed up and stretched out to fill an entire cookie sheet. Let's reflect on the sweetness of the bread and how the concord grapes transformed into jelly in the oven. Finally let's acknowledge the fact that Concord Grape Focaccia is good for breakfast, brunch, lunch and dinner (not to mention pre-bed snack).

Notes: I actually baked this a few weeks ago. After reading the experiences of others online, I decided to leave the seeds in the grapes. More than one person hinted that to do otherwise was terribly messy and more trouble than anything. That being said, you have to like some crunch in your focaccia bread (or not mind picking at your food like you're 5 years old). As someone who spent most of her childhood culling the diced onion, beans and green peppers from her chili (leaving what, exactly?), I had no problem.

Source: Inspired by Fanny's Blueberry Focaccia over at Foodbeam.

Something pumpkin-esque

2009-10-26T10:57:00.005+01:00

A few posts back, a Casual Baker reader wondered aloud whether there was something pumpkin-esque on the way.

Dear student,
I have good news.

Almost immediately after I said there would be no pumpkin on the horizon, the wheels were set in motion to make me a liar. First, my mom arrived with a box of five squash—a sugar pumpkin among them. Hmmm.

Then someone tweeted a list of Hallowe'en-inspired recipes—Legendary Pumpkin Cookies among them. Within hours, said pumpkin was roasting in the oven.

Sarah of In Praise of Leftovers said it best: "These cookies are like little cakes." With their toasted nuts and hint of fall spices, they're a bit like a frosted version of my all-time favourite, the unfortunately named Boiled Raisin Cookie.

Now where's the fire and hot apple cider?

Maple-Frosted Pumpkin Cookies

Cookies:
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup sugar
1 cup pumpkin puree
1 egg
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups pecans, toasted and coarsely chopped

Frosting:
1/2 cup brown sugar
3 tablespoons butter
4 teaspoons milk
1/4 teaspoon maple extract (1/2 teaspoon vanilla in the original)
1 cup icing sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Spread the pecans on a baking sheet and bake for 5-7 minutes, until fragrant and lightly toasted. Remove from oven, chop coarsely and set aside. Line the baking sheet with parchment and set it aside too.

In a large bowl, beat together the butter, sugar and pumpkin puree. Add the egg and mix well. The batter looks somewhat unappetizing at this point, but forge ahead.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. Add 1 cup of the toasted pecans and stir to combine.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients all at once and stir just until combined.

Drop by tablespoons onto prepared sheet(s). Bake until barely golden (about 10-12 minutes). They should be soft in the centre, but not gooey. Frost the cookies while they are still warm, but not hot.

For the frosting, combine the brown sugar, butter and milk in a small saucepan over low heat. Cook until the sugar dissolves, then remove from heat and cool slightly. Whisk in powdered sugar until smooth.

Use a knife to spread about 1 teaspoon of icing on each cookie, sprinkle immediately with the leftover chopped pecans, and repeat. If the frosting stiffens before you're done, gently re-heat over low heat just until it's spreadable again.

Source: In Praise of Leftovers' family recipe for Legendary Pumpkin Cookies, with a maple twist on the vanilla frosting.

Cranky jelly

2009-10-23T17:45:00.011+02:00

I don't make a lot of jam or jelly.

It's not that I don't enjoy a PB&J sandwich or scones and raspberry jam every now and again.

I'm not worried that the jelly won't set or the lids won't seal or—God forbid—both.

No, it's because my parents make (more than) enough jam and jelly to keep themselves, friends, family, all of their Berry Street* neighbours and anyone else fortunate enough to cross their path well stocked.

J. & W. are partial to berry preserves. Blackberry jamelly is the house specialty, with strawberry, raspberry and rueberry (raspberry/blueberry) close behind. They also dabble in peach and plum and, less often, grape and pear. Orange marmalade came and went a few years back, after the jars languished on the shelf too long. Occasionally, there's a funny one called Heavenly Jam that makes an appearance, but I just can't get on board with any jam that has the nerve to call itself heavenly (in caps, no less).

I don't think it's a coincidence that my favourite is one of the rarer Berry Street Jam & Jelly Co. preserves.

I'd always assumed it was a fruit sourcing issue. On the farm in Alberta, we had a crab apple tree right in the yard, but cranky apples are harder to come by here. Or so I thought, until J. delivered a box of the raw goods to me less than a week after I'd casually asked where to find some.

Now I'm convinced I'm just the only one who likes crab apple jelly.

Ah well, more for me.

Recipe: There's no recipe to be had here today. If you too have a hankering for cranky jelly: (a) ask nicely; or (b) buy your own Certo and follow the directions inside.

Full disclosure: This jelly is actually 1/3 crab apple, 2/3 Granny Smith simply because I didn't have enough crab apples.

* I know!

Cinnamon raisin rice pudding

2009-10-19T11:40:00.001+02:00

I am nothing, if not consistent. When I first revealed my hot oatmeal breakfast tendencies more than two years ago, the ritual was already firmly entrenched. It must be 4, maybe even 5(!) years now that I've been eating the same breakfast almost every day.

There were a few brief intervals when I temporarily abandoned hot oatmeal for more seasonally appropriate alternatives like granola or breakfast bars, but these are exceptions to the rule.

Now that fall has sort of arrived, I don't see much variation on the horizon beyond the occasional weekday bowl of Mini-Wheats or weekend stack of banana chocolate chip pancakes.

Or maybe this rice pudding, for those days when I blindly follow the recommended serving size on the rice package and end up with enough cooked rice to feed my entire condo building but don't want to risk social alienation with door-to-door rice distribution.

Cinnamon Raisin Rice Pudding
2 cups cooked white rice (I used jasmine)
4 cups milk (I used 1%)
1/3 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
dash of nutmeg
1/2 cup raisins

Combine all ingredients in a medium saucepan. Cook gently over low-medium heat, stirring frequently, until the mixture thickens to your desired consistency. If necessary, reduce heat to prevent scorching. Note that the pudding thickens considerably as it cools.

Serve warm or cold, sprinkled with pecans and extra cinnamon, for breakfast or dessert.

A guilt-free post-turkey breakfast

2009-10-11T22:25:00.012+02:00

For my Canadian readers who spent Thanksgiving
weekend in a turkey-induced haze.

Buttermilk Bran Muffins
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/2 cups bran
1 cup raisins
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon molasses
2 tablespoons melted butter
1 egg
1 3/4 - 2 cups buttermilk
1 cup grated carrot and/or apple
1 teaspoon lemon zest

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit and lightly grease a muffin tin.

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, bran, cinnamon, baking powder and baking soda. Set aside.

In a large bowl, mix together the sugar, molasses, butter, egg and 1 3/4 cups of the buttermilk. Stir in the carrot, raisins and lemon zest.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix just until combined. If the mixture seems excessively thick, add up to 1/4 cup extra buttermilk. (If your apples are juicy, you might not need to add any extra buttermilk; if you use only carrots, the extra liquid may be necessary.)

Spoon into prepared muffin tins. Bake for 20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the centre of the muffins comes out clean. Cool in tins for 20 minutes before loosening the sides with a knife and flipping the muffins out onto a rack to cool completely.

Yields 12 muffins.

Source: A mash-up of several recipes that I can safely call my own!

Fall's false alarm

2009-10-05T08:55:00.008+02:00

The calendar proclaimed Fall's arrival back on September 22's autumnal equinox, but here in Vancouver we've been rather non-committal on the subject. The rip-roaring heat of summer has faded, but only just. Warm, sunny afternoons have kept me in sandals well past their Labour Day expiration, and I've been getting by with a scarf and sweater in the mild, clear evenings. Two nights ago, we even ate outdoors on an unheated restaurant patio. Although I was thoroughly chilled by the time the mints rolled around, we weren't alone in our folly.

In fact, Fall has revealed its true colours just once, so far as I can tell. This past Tuesday morning, Winter's younger brother painted our blue sky grey, threatening to huff and puff and blow us all away in a flurry of wind, rain, thunder and lightning. Yet somewhere along the way -- after rain, but before thunder -- Fall lost its gusto. By late afternoon, the cloud cover had lifted and the sun even ventured out for a quick jaunt before retiring for the evening.

In that brief space in time, when the change of seasons seemed imminent, the urge to turn on the oven and bake up something toasty was overwhelming. I spent the morning debating between bread and coffee cake, and nearly cheered out loud when I came across this recipe for Yeasted Coffee Cake with Apricot Cream Cheese Filling. Now that I've made it, I'm officially smitten. My kitchen smelled like heaven from start to finish, and the end result was a refreshing change from the streusel varieties we all know and love.

For the recipe and instructions, I'd encourage you to head over to Annie's Eats to take advantage of her mouth-watering step-by-step photos. If I haven't sold you on this coffee cake, her images surely will.

As Annie notes, the possibilities for this recipe are virtually limitless. In fact, just one day after I gave her original apricot configuration a go, she posted a delectable looking raspberry follow-up. The apricot filling was apropos in the end though: the cake, with its sunny lining, turned out much like the day.

Source: A Baking Illustrated recipe, as adapted by Annie's Eats, a food blog I discovered only recently but plan to re-visit often.

Sea of red

2009-10-01T08:43:00.005+02:00

Check out the Autumn Issue of Edible Vancouver magazine for my story on BC cranberries, plus other interesting pieces on beekeeping in downtown Vancouver and the Project CHEF program for kids.

> Find a copy
> Read online
> Subscribe to EV

Diane's 6-spice oatmeal raisin cookies

2009-09-29T13:51:00.003+02:00

A quick post between projects to tide you over 'til the weekend. These cookies are a perfect mid-week baking project: they're quick, chewy and pack well in lunches.

Don't be intimated by the lengthy ingredient list. If you don't already have everything on hand, you'll find what you're missing in any respectable grocery store. Once you've measured out all of the spices, the dough comes together in a snap.

My fondness for oatmeal raisin cookies surprises even me. I was an extremely picky eater as a kid, and raisins are surely among the top 10 most despised foods. In my experience, putting raisins in virtually anything is a surefire way to win a handful of scornful glances in any crowd. I've always kind of liked them though: they're sweet, plump and fabulous friends with oatmeal. Must be all those porridge breakfasts growing up.

R. has nothing against raisins, but cookies without chocolate concern him. And so, Diane's 6-Spice Oatmeal Raisin Cookies came to have chocolate chips.

That Diane was sure on to something, putting cumin in cookies, but I daresay it was R. that gave them a shot at stardom.

Diane's 6-Spice Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cumin
pinch of ground cloves
pinch of cayenne
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups rolled oats, old-fashioned or quick-cooking
1 cup raisins
1 cup chocolate chips (optional)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit and line a baking sheet with parchment or a silicone baking mat.

Sift the flour, spices, baking soda and salt into a medium bowl. Set aside.

In a large bowl, use an electric mixer to beat the butter and sugars until light and fluffy. Add the egg and vanilla and beat until smooth. Whip out your wooden spoon, the rest will be by hand.

Add the flour mixture and stir slowly, just until combined. Stir in the rolled oats, raisins and chocolate chips (if using). The dough should be quite stiff, but still sticky.

Drop by the tablespoonful onto prepared baking sheets, about 2 inches apart. Bake until golden (about 8-10 minutes).

Cool cookies on the baking sheet for 1 minute, before transferring them to racks to cool completely.

Source: Epicurious.com, originally published in Gourmet, September 1997.

Within cake distance

2009-09-24T21:00:00.003+02:00

When there's a birthday in the family, I always bring the cake.

In June, it was Baked's Sweet and Salty Cake for my mom.

In July, it was Martha Stewart's Blueberry Pie for West Coast brother D. and partner in crime R.

In August, it was Smitten Kitchen's Best Birthday Cake for Uncle G. and first cousin once removed C. (No, seriously.)

My August cake showing was a bit weak. Cake flour and I, we don't get along very well. Try as I might, I can't recall a single cake flour cake I've ever made that wasn't dry. Maybe they're especially sensitive to over-baking, or perhaps the fine grind of cake flour makes volume-based measurements even sketchier than usual. Whatever the case, I've tucked my bag of cake flour into the deepest recesses of my corner cupboard. It needs a time-out to reflect on what it's done and how it's going to make things up to me.

In the meantime, people aren't getting any younger. The show must go on.

September strutted in with not 1, not 2, but -- count them -- 3 family birthdays: sister J., niece B. and nephew D. And those are just the ones within cake distance.* Prairie brother D. went without in Alberta, as did brother-in-law C. in Oakville. Just one more good reason to live in Vancouver, I guess.

But I digress.

We celebrated the trio of September birthdays with a citrus take on a tried and true classic. Once again, the recipe did not disappoint. The cake is so light and moist, everyone will be convinced it's from a box.** The frosting is rich and sweet, but whipped to airy perfection it's a dream to pipe. For those who insist there is such a thing as too sweet (introduce me to that, will you), the tangy slick of citrus curd should keep them satisfied.

Cake:
1 cup butter, at room temperature
1 3/4 cups granulated sugar
6 egg whites
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 tablespoon citrus zest***
3 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 1/2 cups milk

Citrus Curd:
1/2 cup citrus juice
1 tablespoon citrus zest
2/3 cup sugar
4 eggs
1/2 cup whipping cream

Citrus Frosting:
1 cup butter, at room temperature
6 cups icing sugar, sifted
1/3 cup half milk/half citrus juice

Begin with the cake. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease two 9-inch round cake pans and line the bottoms with parchment.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until very light. Add egg whites two at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla and citrus zest.

In a separate bowl, sift together the flour and baking powder. Set aside. Measure out the milk. Add about 1/3 of the flour and mix lightly with a wooden spoon. Follow that with 1/2 of the milk/juice and another light mix. Repeat until the flour and milk/juice are gone. Do not overmix!

Divide the batter evenly between the prepared pans. Bake for 25-30 minutes or just until a cake tester comes out clean when inserted in the centre. Cool the cakes for 10 minutes in the pans and then flip them out onto racks to cool completely, removing the parchment from the bottom when you do.

While your cakes are cooling, prepare the citrus curd. Combine citrus juice, zest and sugar in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat.

In the meantime, beat the eggs in a medium bowl. Slowly whisk in the hot lemon juice mixture.

Return everything to the saucepan and cook on medium heat for 3-5 minutes, until thick and bubbling. Use a fine sieve to strain the mixture into a clean bowl. Refrigerate until cool.

Whip the cream until soft peaks form. Fold the whipped cream lightly into the cooled curd using a flexible spatula. Cover and refrigerate until you're ready to build the cake.

Next, prepare the frosting. In a large bowl, beat the butter on high until light. Gradually beat in 4 cups of icing sugar. Add the milk and vanilla and mix to combine. Gradually beat in the remaining 2 cups of icing sugar.

Place one layer of cake, top side down, on a serving platter. Spread a generous layer of the citrus curd (you probably won't use it all) and then top with the second cake layer, top side up. At this point, you may want to chill the cake for a half hour or so to help the curd set.

Before frosting the cake, insert 3-4 long skewers in the top of the cake, through both layers, to hold everything in place. Frost the sides, then the top. Remove the skewers and finish off the details as you see fit.

Makes one 9-inch, 2-layer cake.

* Think spitting/striking distance, but less disgusting/scary.
** Apparently that's a good thing to most people. As R. always says, "Just roll with it."
*** I used lemon in the cake and frosting and a combination of lemon and lime in the curd. Grapefruit could be cool.

Notes: This cake is a riff on the White on White Birthday Cake of August 2006. Has it really been 3 years already?

Source: Bonnie Stern's Essentials of Home Cooking

Toasted coconut marshmallows

2009-09-17T08:58:00.013+02:00

The scene: It's the Tuesday after Summerscream 2009 and my office mates and I are just sitting down to a staff meeting.

Pulling a Tupperware from my purse:
I brought in a treat to get us through the next 2 hours.

Everyone leans in for a closer look.

Suddenly feeling a little self-conscious:
They're marshmallows.

The latest addition to the team pipes up, in disbelief:
Really? You made them from scratch? Who does that?

Attempting to explain how making marshmallows was completely logical -- reasonable, even -- given the circumstances:
I'm not crazy, it's not like I make them all the time or anything. I just had a lot of toasted coconut and egg whites kicking around and this seemed like a good way to use them up.

Another, slightly bemused face:
Why did you have so many egg whites?

Now I can really feel the pink creeping up my neck and into my cheeks:
They were left over when I made the batter for our homemade ice cream par...

Realizing it's a lost cause:
Oh nevermind.

--------------------

Toasted Coconut Marshmallows
~2 cups coconut, toasted
~1 cup icing sugar
2 tablespoons + 2 1/2 teaspoons unflavored gelatin
1/2 cup cold water
2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup light corn syrup
1/2 cup hot water
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 large egg whites (or the equivalent in powdered egg whites)
1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Spread coconut evenly on a metal baking sheet. Bake, stirring every 3-4 minutes, until golden brown (about 10-12 minutes in total). Remove from pan and set aside.

Grease the bottom and sides of 9x13-inch baking pan, dust generously with icing sugar and then a layer of toasted coconut. Set aside.

In a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer, sprinkle gelatin over cold water and let stand to soften.

Meanwhile, cook the sugar, corn syrup, hot water and salt in a heavy saucepan over low heat, stirring with a wooden spoon until the sugar is dissolved.

Increase heat to medium and boil mixture, without stirring, until a candy or digital thermometer registers 240 degrees Fahrenheit (about 12 minutes).

Remove pan from heat and pour sugar mixture over gelatin mixture, stirring until gelatin is dissolved.

With a stand or hand-held electric mixer, beat the mixture on high until it is white, thick and nearly tripled in volume (about 6 minutes with a stand mixer or 10 minutes with a hand-held mixer).

In a large bowl, with clean beaters, beat the egg whites (or reconstituted powdered egg whites) just until they hold stiff peaks. Add the egg whites and vanilla to the sugar mixture and mix briefly and lightly.

Pour mixture into the prepared baking pan, smoothing the top with a spatula. Shake toasted coconut on top, pressing lightly so that it adheres.

Chill, uncovered, until firm (at least 3 hours and up to 1 day).

Run a thin knife around the edges of the pan and flip the marshmallow slab out onto a large cutting board. Trim the edges and cut into cubes. Immediately roll the cubes in the remaining toasted coconut

Store in an airtight container at cool room temperature for up to 1 week. If you must stack your marshmallows, be sure to separate the layers with wax paper.

Source: Epicurious.com, originally published in Gourmet, December 1998.

Summerscream 2009

2009-09-14T17:04:00.000+02:00

A few weeks ago, we hosted Summerscream, our annual* hand-churned ice cream event, for a few friends here in Vancouver. As in years past, we kept the ice cream simple and the toppings excessive.

The U.S. took on France in The Battle of the Vanilla Ice Creams. Despite my strong endorsement of the Philadelphia-style concoction, the richer French custard was the overwhelming 1st choice among our taste testers.

Public opinion on the toppings was far less conclusive. With too many options, people fall victim to the tyranny of choice and start second-guessing their instincts.

Based on the spoils, though, it's clear that fresh strawberries were a crowd pleaser. I suspect it has something to do with their nutritional value in a relatively vitamin-challenged selection. I can't say the same for the maraschino cherries. Once again, I may have been the sole indulger.

When all was said and done, we were left with:

15 egg whites
a ridiculous amount of toasted coconut (among other things)
a salt-stained balcony (a lesson in hand-cranked ice cream for those who haven't had the pleasure and are puzzled by the salt)

It was during the post-party clean-up, batting around soapsuds and contemplating what to do with all those egg whites, that I had the epiphany for what came next.

Stay tuned.

Source: Summerscream 2009 featured David Lebovitz's vanilla (French-style) and the Lutz family vanilla (Philly-style).**

* Summerscream took a brief hiatus in 2007 and 2008, during our globe-trotting years.
** Strictly speaking, the Lutz family vanilla is a quasi Philly-style ice cream. The recipe doesn't require a custard, but it does call for eggs.

Pint-sized peach pie (and plenty of P's)

2009-09-08T11:53:00.010+02:00

As it turns out, peach pie packs a palate-pleasing punch for passing from summer to autumn pathos-free. Make it pint-sized, and your pants will be praising its pluses too.

Perfection personified.

Pint-Sized Peach Pie
1/3 cup brown sugar, packed
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
700 grams (1 1/2 pounds) peaches

1/2 of your favourite pastry recipe, chilled and ready to roll
(i.e., enough pastry to fill the bottom of a regular-sized pie plate)

1-2 tablespoons whipping cream

In a large bowl, stir together the sugar, cornstarch and spices. Set aside.

Bring a medium saucepan of water to boil. Meanwhile, fill a medium bowl with ice water. Blanch the peaches, 3 at a time, for 1 minute each. Immediately transfer the blanched fruit to the ice water until cool enough to touch. Peel carefully using a sharp knife.

Pit the peaches and cut them into thin, bite-sized wedges. Add the peach slices and lemon juice to the dry ingredients above and toss to coat. Let the filling stand for 30 minutes, until juices form.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit and have a loaf pan ready.

Roll out your pastry into a rectangle large enough to cover the bottom and sides of your loaf pan, plus a little extra. Transfer the pastry to the loaf pan, carefully easing it into the corners without stretching. Leave an overhang around the perimeter.

Use a slotted spoon to scoop the peach filling into the pastry shell. Drizzle a bit of the reserved sauce on top and discard the rest to avoid a runny pie.

Fold the overhang pastry up and over the filling, crimping it to hold the peaches inside. Don't worry if some of the filling is exposed. On the other hand, if your filling is completely covered, be sure to make a few decorative cuts in the pastry for steam to escape. Lightly brush the top with whipping cream (or an egg wash).

Bake for 25 minutes. Rotate and check progress, then return to oven until the pastry is golden brown and the filling is bubbling. Mine took about 40-45 minutes in total.

Notes: To make a pint-sized version of your favourite pie, simply halve your filling and pastry recipes.

Source: Spiced Peach Pie at Epicurious.com, originally published in Bon Appétit, July 2000.

Get cracking

2009-08-30T21:57:00.003+02:00

At university, one of my roommates, E., had a thing for eggs. Once in awhile, she'd fry up an egg and eat it. Just like that, all on its own, at all times of day.

At the time, I didn't really understand the appeal. For me, eggs had always been the means to some other ends (usually sweet). They were an essential—but virtually invisible—catalyst that partnered with other leavening agents to do the heavy lifting in cakes, cookies and pancakes.

From a nutritional perspective, eggs have developed a bum rap in recent years. When people think eggs, their mind conjures a diner breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, butter-drenched toast (white, naturally) and maybe even a side of crunchy hash browns. The mere thought causes cholesterol levels to rise, and most end up tossing the entire idea aside before the yolk hits the grease.

The Canadian egg lobby has been busy though. According to the Ontario Egg Producers, the success of the Eggconomize and Get Cracking advertising campaigns resulted in a 5% increase in Ontario egg consumption in 1979. As the public perception of eggs and health has evolved, so too have the ads.

1978

1983

(Unfortunately, YouTube fails me on more recent examples. Please send links if you find anything more recent!)

Today, I'd consider myself an egg convert. I like one every now and then: hard-boiled on a spinach salad, scrambled alongside some turkey bacon, poached on an English muffin...or baked in a bread basket.

Eggs in a Basket
Bread/pizza/brioche dough (whatever your leftovers)
Eggs
Pesto (optional)
Salt + pepper

Take several small knobs of dough and roll them out into long strips. Twist two strips together and join the ends to create a doughnut shape, leaving a large enough hole in the middle for an egg later on (keep in mind the hole will close somewhat as the dough rises). Place the rings on a lightly greased baking sheet and leave to rise until double in size.

Preheat oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake the (eggless) rings for 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and reduce the heat to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Crack an egg into the centre of each partially cooked ring. Sprinkle each egg with salt and pepper and spoon some pesto on top.

Return the pan to the oven for 15 minutes or until you're convinced the eggs are cooked and ready.

Source: My own creation, with numerous inspirations.

Pepto-bismol?

2009-08-08T13:46:00.002+02:00

No, but I'm not surprised you asked.

Strawberry Panna Cotta
3 cups sliced strawberries (about 1 pound)
1 3/4 cups buttermilk
6 tablespoons sugar
1 1/2 envelopes unflavored gelatin
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup whipping cream

Lightly grease 6 6-ounce ramekins and set aside.

Blend the strawberries, buttermilk and sugar in a blender until very smooth. Pour the mixture through a very fine sieve into a medium bowl, pressing hard on the solids before discarding them.

In a small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over the milk and let stand 1 minute to soften.

In a small saucepan, heat the cream until bubbles begin to appear around the edge (just before it boils). Remove from heat and add the gelatin mixture, stirring until it dissolves.

Whisk the cream mixture into the strawberry purée. Divide the mixture evenly among the ramekins and chill, covered, until firm (at least 8 hours).

To unmold, dip the ramekins in a small bowl of hot water for 2-3 seconds and then invert onto dessert plates. (This method resulted in the panna cotta soup you see above, but that could have been a product of all of this hot weather we've been having.)

Source: Strawberry Panna Cotta posted at Epicurious.com, originally published in Gourmet in May 2002.

Notes: If you prefer your strawberries on the side, try the Vanilla Panna Cotta with Balsamic Strawberries.

No pain, no gain.

2009-08-03T19:48:00.002+02:00

"Who thought this was a good idea again?" I say, one hand wiping the sweat from my brow, one blindly tossing rings of dough into a steaming pot of water, and one (a third?) rolling the freshly boiled bagels in the seed of their choosing. Well, my choosing really.

"Not me," says R. as he flips to page 2 of the Globe's weekend Review section. "Definitely not me."

Kitty B. Cat stretches lazily under the kitchen table and meows in agreement.

As I open the oven door, a puff of 450-degree air escapes into the room, momentarily spiking the ambient temperature from borderline to unbearable.

Cat hightails it for the bedroom.
Husband and baker heave a collective sigh.

Source: Montreal bagels posted over at Seven Spoons.

Note: Best not made during a heat wave, when temperatures run high and patience runs low.

Yellow things I made (and may or may not like)

2009-07-26T13:52:00.008+02:00

A follow-up to Green things I like.

Lemon mousse.
A summer dessert with great potential that fell flat on its face. The texture was spongy not fluffy, more like Jell-O dessert-in-a-box than gourmet. Even the fresh lemon zest and juice lacked zing. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was lemon extract.

Verdict? Epic fail.
(although I'm still convinced it's a good idea, in theory)

Banana Mocha Cupcakes.
The product of too many overripe bananas, these cupcakes were the underdog victor. Shelve those thoughts of dense loaves and think airy chiffon instead. A rich mocha frosting elevates banana from dilettante to sophisticate.

Verdict? Unexpectedly delicious.

Banana Mocha Cupcakes

Banana Cupcakes:
2 3/4 cups flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
1/4 vegetable shortening at room temperature
1 3/4 cups sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 large eggs
1 1/2 cups mashed banana (about 4 medium)
1/2 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit and line two 12-cup muffin tins with paper or silicone liners.

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

In a large bowl, beat together the butter and shortening on medium speed until creamy (about 3-4 minutes). Add the sugar and vanilla and beat on medium speed until fluffy (about 3 minutes). Add the eggs and beat just until combined.

Add the flour mixture, alternating with the buttermilk, in three additions, beginning and ending with the flour mixture. Mix on low.

Fill the cupcake liners 3/4 full. Bake for 15 minutes, rotate the pans, and bake for another 5-10 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the centre comes out clean. Let cool on a wire rack for 20 minutes before removing the cupcakes from the pan to cool completely.

Mocha Frosting:
3/4 cup butter
12 ounces semi-sweet chocolate, chopped
1/3 cup cocoa
1 tablespoon vanilla
3 cups icing sugar
1/2 cup milk (approximately)
1 1/2 teaspoons espresso powder

Melt the chocolate in a double boiler over low heat and set aside to cool. In a small bowl, dissolve the espresso in the milk and set aside.

In a large bowl, beat butter with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Beat in the cooled melted chocolate, cocoa and vanilla. Beat in the icing sugar.

Add the milk/espresso mixture and beat until very cool and creamy. If the mixture is too thick, add more milk. If the mixture is too warm or thin to spread, set it over a bowl of ice and mix frequently with a wooden spoon until the desired consistency is reached.

Swirl or pipe the frosting, as you wish, onto the cooled cupcakes.

Sources: "Banana Cupcakes" in Baked by Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito, p. 70. Mocha frosting based on "Chocolate Icing" in Bonnie Stern's Essentials of Home Cooking, p. 170.

Notes: I halved both recipes with no problems.

Makings of a macaron, in chocolate

2009-07-19T21:28:00.004+02:00

Unbelievably, it's been over two years since we last discussed the merits of the macaron and more than one year since I could satisfy my hankerings with a quick trip to the neighbourhood pâtisserie.

That previous post was more a lesson in tasting than baking. Now that I've had a chance to taste a few Canadian interpretations of this delicacy, it's abundantly clear that it's the baking I need to master.

Macarons are like most things French: small, dainty, beautiful, and more difficult than they look.

That didn't stop me from a first attempt this past week, on what may well have been the most ill-advised day of the year. A hot, humid summer afternoon that left my kitchen with that wet sauna feel—never a good thing when meringue is involved.

But cravings aren't rational, and neither am I.

Despite good intentions, I'm rarely systematic about my kitchen experiments. This time, however, I did manage a comparison of silicone and parchment baking surfaces, with dramatic results. Exhibits A and B were made from the same batter and baked side-by-side, at the same temperature, for the same length of time.

The macarons baked on parchment developed the requisite domes and ruffled bottoms affectionately called feet.

Exhibit A: parchment paper

The others? Well, they imploded.

Exhibit B: silicone baking mat

I was definitely happy with the results, but am also convinced the trick is not in baking a good macaron, but in baking consistently good macarons. Time will tell how I'm doing on that front.

Macarons au chocolat
Apologies for the mishmash of weight and volume measures.

Macarons:
100 grams egg whites (about 4 large)
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
25 grams sugar
225 grams icing sugar
125 grams almond meal
15 grams cocoa

Separate the eggs and let the whites sit at room temperature for several hours before beginning.

Preheat oven to 300 degrees Fahrenheit and line baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a food processor, pulse the icing sugar, almond meal and cocoa until fine (about 10 3-second pulses). Set aside.

Using an electric mixer, whip the egg whites with the lemon juice until they begin to rise and hold their shape. While still mixing, sprinkle in the sugar and beat the mixture until it forms stiff peaks (about 2 minutes).

Carefully fold the dry ingredients, in two batches, into the beaten egg whites with a flexible rubber spatula. As soon as the mixture is smooth and there are no streaks of egg white, scrape the batter into a pastry bag with a plain 1/2-inch tip.

Pipe about 1 tablespoon of batter in a 1-inch circle, leave 1 inch of space, and repeat. At this point, DavidLebovtiz.com advises rapping the bottom of the pan on a countertop and then baking immediately, while Cannelle et Vanille recommends letting the macarons dry at room temperature for 20 minutes before baking. Impatience led me down the first path, with good results.

Bake for 10 minutes, rotate, and bake for another 8 minutes.

Ganache:
1 cup whipping cream
1 tablespoon light corn syrup
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
2 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces

Heat the cream and corn syrup in a small saucepan over low-medium heat just until the cream begins to boil at the edges. Remove from heat and add the chopped chocolate. Let sit one minute and then stir until smooth. Stir in the butter until completely incorporated. Cool completely before piping or spreading onto cooled macarons.

Sources: Bits and pieces from Cannelle et Vanille and DavidLebovitz.com.

Green things I like

2009-07-12T19:50:00.004+02:00

Unripe balcony tomatoes.

Homemade spinach fettucine.

Made in my favourite workout/pasta-making shorts.
(Some might call them teal, but let's pretend they're green.
Recently re-discovered in a stack of summer clothes.)

My egg bag.
(From Workshop Studio + Boutique in Ottawa, Canada.)

That's all for now.

Here, we call them panda squares

2009-07-05T17:01:00.006+02:00

What follows is a stylized snippet of the water cooler conversation that ensued when R. brought in a Tupperware of florentines to work.

Taster 1, sizing up the florentines:
So she made a pan of the squares, then?

Taster 2, taking a first bite:
What're they called? Panda squares?

R.: No, I think they're actually called....

Taster 3, a belated entrant into the conversation:
These panda squares are good.

Florentines
(or Panda Squares, as they're known around here)
Dust off your kitchen scales folks, this one's in metric.

Pâte sucrée:
150 grams unsalted butter, at room temperature
95 grams icing sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 egg
280 grams flour (or 250 grams flour + 30 grams ground almonds)
1/2 teaspoon fleur de sel (or 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt)

Cream the butter until soft and smooth. Mix in the icing sugar, vanilla and ground almonds (if using). Beat in the egg.

Add the flour and salt and mix by hand with a spoon, just until incorporated.

Form the dough into a rough disc, being careful not to handle it too much. Wrap tightly in plastic and refrigerate overnight. If you're in a rush, you can skip ahead to the next step. I won't tell.

Florentine topping:
220 grams sugar
125 grams water
2 teaspoons corn syrup
100 grams honey
115 grams butter, at room temperature
125 grams cream, warm
300 grams sliced almonds

Remove the pâte sucrée from the fridge and preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Roll the dough out into a 9x13-inch rectangle and transfer to a baking pan lined with parchment. Refrigerate for 15 minutes and then bake for 15 minutes (or until light brown). Remove from the oven.

Increase the oven temperature to 425 degrees Fahrenheit and start preparing the topping.

In a saucepan, combine the sugar, water and corn syrup. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat and cook until the syrup is light amber in colour.

Remove from heat and add the honey, cream and butter. Stir just until the butter melts, then cook the caramel topping until the mixture reaches 255 degrees Fahrenheit.

Remove from heat and quickly stir in the almonds until evenly coated. Immediately spread the caramel over the warm pastry crust with a wooden spoon.

Return the baking pan to the oven and bake for 10 minutes (or until the top bubbles). Transfer the baking sheet to a rack and let cool for 30 minutes.

When cold, run a knife around the edge of the baking sheet. Slide the bar onto a work surface and cut as you like. Store in an airtight container for up to a week.

Source: Les florentins de mon arrière grand-mère at Foodbeam.

Casual Baker Notes: Lacking Fanny's eye for presentation, I cut the finished bars in fingers instead of rounds.

All's well that ends with doughnuts

2009-06-17T11:18:00.005+02:00

I'm pleased to report a happy ending in the hunt for our little silver Pentax Optio S5i.

Our camera returned home after an exciting cross-country journey from Oakville, Ontario to Vancouver, BC. Thanks to brother-in-law C. who thought to check the golf bag in the basement and, recognizing the urgency of the situation, made posting it a priority.

Although I promised a refreshing summer drink, the grey skies out the window this morning all but erase my memory of the sunshine and heat that came before. I'm in the mood for some comfort food, so doughnuts it is.

Aside from a previous Beaver Tails experiment in Paris, this was my first foray into the world of doughnuts. So I started simple, with a straightforward yeast dough posted over at Cook & Eat.

I skipped the holes and, in a twist on the suggested glaze, substituted maple syrup and a few drops of maple flavour for un vrai beignet canadien.

Casual Baker: When placing your cut doughnuts on a tray for the second rising, make sure to flour the surface evenly and well. I did a patchy job and paid the price when my perfectly puffed domes, refusing to let go of the towel, deflated on their way to the hot oil. It's as if they knew what was coming.

Source: Yeasty Doughnuts at Cook & Eat.

Technical difficulty, part II

2009-05-29T07:12:00.001+02:00

Missing: One cute little silver Pentax Optio S5i.

Reward: A lifetime of weekly cookie deliveries.

A baking blog without photos is like a bagel without cream cheese, so you'll have to sit tight while I sort this out.

Look for a refreshing summer drink when I get back...

The Casual Baker

Marshmallow brownies (for beginners)

2009-05-18T15:22:00.003+02:00

Ah, vacation. Finally. And something to do with that half-used jar of marshmallow cream jammed between the soy sauce and garlic dill pickles. Finally.

I'm always disappointed by the dried up, crumbly cakes posing as brownies on catered goodie trays, downright appalled by those who willingly nosh on them,
and completely mystified when someone remarks on their tastiness.

A real brownie is half cake, half fudge. A real brownie oozes butter and chocolate. A real brownie has crunchy edges and a soft, moist centre. A real brownie balks at icing.

Bake these people a real brownie, then show them how easy it really is.

Marshmallow Brownies

1 cup unsalted butter
8 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, cut into small pieces
4 eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup flour
1 jar marshmallow cream

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and line a 9x13-inch square pan with parchment paper.

In a double boiler, over low heat, combine the butter and chocolate. Stir occasionally until melted and smooth. Remove from heat and set aside.

Whisk eggs in a large bowl. Add the salt, sugars and vanilla, and whisk until smooth. Stir in the chocolate and butter mixture. Fold in the flour.

Pour batter into the prepared pan and smooth. Drop large spoonfuls of marshmallow cream, evenly spaced, on top of the brownie batter. Drag a regular kitchen knife through the marshmallow cream to create a marble effect.

Bake until the top has formed a shiny crust and the batter is moderately firm (about 45 minutes). Cool in the pan on a rack.

Source: The core brownie recipe was originally published in Nick Malgieri's Chocolate: From Simple Cookies to Extravagant Showstoppers and posted online by David Lebovitz at Living The Sweet Life in Paris.

Casual Baker Notes: Looking to expand your brownie repertoire? Check out my Junior Mint and Spice Crumble Brownies.