Fleur de Sel Caramels

I have always been a very impressionable person. Call it weak-mindedness if you must, but it's true; my suggestible nature has a history for nearly getting me into trouble. After watching The Mighty Ducks, I got it into my head that playing hockey was part of my destiny. Luckily, my mom had the sense to derail that ambition early on, as my combined lack of physical coordination and the rigidity of cold, hard ice would not have mixed. I recently watched a wiry woman at the gym use a wall to balance herself in a handstand and execute the first and only upside-down push-ups I have ever witnessed. I toyed with the idea of attempting them myself, but thankfully, my boyfriend ensured me that such a venture was more likely to land me in the hospital than in annals of history as a victorious athlete.

Alas, there are times when even my ever-vigilant friends and family cannot prevent me from plunging headfirst over the Ledge of Bad Decisions. When I was seven years old, there seemed to be a neverending stream of television commercials advertising products that detangle the unruly locks of the everyday woman. They all followed the same formula, showing a frustrated lady with a comb or brush hopelessly entangled in her hair, lamenting the "tangles and knots." This image was of course followed by a depiction of the miracle-working product and the woman easily executing her desired grooming.

Any rational child would be inspired to complain to her mother, begging her to buy said product, in order to deal with her own tangles and knots. But along with my tendency for suggestibility, I have always also harbored intense impatience. So rather than wait for mom to show up, I instead took a pair of blue-handled kid scissors, meandered over to the nearest trash can, and bitterly cut out each of the knots I found in my own hair. The stupidity of said act didn't even occur to me until my parents suspiciously asked me how large clumps of my hair had somehow ended up at the bottom of our plastic (and regrettably translucent) trash bag. Rats. So I ended up with a compulsory trip to the hairdresser and a pixie-ish new cut, which left me looking like a boy. As did my long-suffering younger sister, for the sake of sibling matchery. Poor girl.

These days, my whims have far fewer drastic consequences. In fact, I thank my lingering suggestibility for these Fleur de Sel Caramels -- without it, Ina Garten's delicious treat would never have tempted me for a moment. The caramels are incredibly soft and rich, but the sweetness is well-balanced because of the salt both in and on the candies. Ina makes hers absolutely enormous, but I found that cutting them smaller made me enjoy them much more. Plus, then you have more to give as gifts. Particularly if you owe someone bigtime for causing her to endure an unattractive haircut for a key year of her youth. Whoops.

Fleur de Sel Caramels

Adapted from Ina Garten

Equipment needed:

Deep saucepan (as the caramel will bubble up violently at one point in the process, so high sides are needed to prevent messes and burns)

Small saucepan (for cream/butter/salt mixture)

Candy thermometer (can be found at kitchen supply stores, as well as some grocery stores)

8" x 8" baking pan, lined with parchment paper and lightly oiled with vegetable oil

Shopping notes:

- Fleur de sel is a fancy French sea salt, but regular sea salt will work nicely instead of the fleur de sel

- Heavy cream spoils very quickly, so unless you have another recipe on hand to use up the heavy cream (sometimes also billed in the grocery store as whipping cream), I would recommend buying the smallest container the store has to offer. Just make sure that it contains at least 1 cup.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup light corn syrup

1/2 cup water

1 cup heavy cream

5 TBS butter

1 tsp fleur de sel or sea salt

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Directions:

1. Bring cream, butter, and 1 tsp fleur de sel to a simmer in a small saucepan on one burner of your stove, over medium heat. This took a while for me, so I started it on my smaller burner while the sugar/corn syrup/water mixture came to a boil on the larger burner.

2. While the cream/butter/salt mixture is coming to a simmer, combine the granulated sugar, corn syrup, and 1/2 cup water in the deep saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat.

3. When the sugar/corn syrup/water mixture turns a warm, chestnut brown color (warning, this can happen pretty quickly after remaining colorless while boiling for a few minutes), carefully and slowly add the cream mixture from the other saucepan into the deep saucepan. (WARNING: The contents of the deep saucepan will bubble up violently when the cream mixture is added.) Once the bubbling settles a bit, stir in the vanilla extract with a wooden spoon and cook over medium heat for ~5-10 minutes. While it is cooking, swirl the pan rather than stirring the mixture. Insert the candy thermometer and keep an eye on the temperature. Also remember that the mixture will continue to cook when removed from the burner. Your goal temperature is 248 degrees F. As soon as the thermometer hits 248, carefully pour the hot caramel into the prepared pan and refrigerate until firm.

4. When the caramels are cool, use the parchment paper to pry the sheet from the pan onto a cutting board. Starting at one end, roll the caramel up tightly until you've rolled up 1/3 of the sheet. Cut the sheet across, then roll the second third tightly, cut the sheet across again (severing the rolled part from the flat part), and roll the last third tightly. You will have 3 8" logs. Sprinkle all logs lightly with additional fleur de sel, and cut the logs into pieces of your desired size. Store in the refrigerator or at room temperature. Yields ~40 caramels

Chocolate Zucchini Cake

Growing up, my mom used to read to my sister and me religiously. And although some parents read to their children out of obligation (though sometimes, I’m sure she was tired enough to feel it more of a chore than a pleasure), she never failed to deliver an artful performance. Her rendition of each tale was so lively, so engaging, and so faithful, that our favorite bedtime stories became more like call-and-answer interactive theater than simple recitation. We began to love reading before we could do it ourselves, just because we knew that no matter what, every year, The Whos down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot – but the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, DID NOT. Upon the conclusion of each reading, it was easy to fall asleep knowing that things would always turn out as they should. And really, isn’t that feeling what all moms strive to give their children?

Mom’s consistency in the enthusiasm of her reading was matched only by the consistently high quality of her chocolate cakes. For many, many birthdays, I can think of only ever wanting the chocolate sour cream cake she would bake for holidays, family gatherings, and any other such occasion. Eating a cake so rich, moist, and covered in a dark frosting would make me suspect that I was breaking some rule somewhere, but for my family’s encouraging smiles. Taking a bite of that prized sweet never failed to make me feel that no matter what chaos ensued in the universe (though really, what chaos could there be when I was six), Mom and her cake would always make things right again.

So now that Mother’s Day has passed, I suppose it is easy to lose sight of the maternal influences that were recently and briefly thrown into such sharp flower-ordering, brunch-reservationing relief. Luckily for me, my strongest mom associations have nothing to do with special-occasion flowers or fancy restaurants, but everything to do with the humble, homemade chocolate cake. And it is with this Chocolate Zucchini Cake that I remind myself that someday, when I have kids of my own and that clever old Grinch tries to steal Christmas again, I hope to have half my mom's ability to reassure them that it will all come out right in the end. And if I don't -- at least Grandma can make them a consolation dessert.

Chocolate Zucchini Cake

Adapted from Epicurious

Notes: This cake is dense and rich, and doesn't taste at all like vegetables. It seems the zucchini just serves to make the cake moist, and give it a good texture. It was a bit much with the frosting, but I've included the recipe anyway. It might be best as a snack cake in a single layer in a large rectangular pan rather than a layer cake, with a layer of cream cheese frosting.

Ingredients:

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour -- you can use all regular flour if you don't have any whole wheat
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup applesauce
1/4 cup vegetable oil
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 cups grated unpeeled zucchini (about 2 1/2 medium) -- make sure to squeeze the water out of this (after measuring) before you add it to the cake
1 6-ounce package (about 1 cup) semisweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup chopped walnuts

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Butter and flour (with cocoa powder) 13 x 9 x 2-inch baking pan OR two 8-inch round baking pans for a layer cake.
2. Sift flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt into medium bowl.
3. Beat sugar, applesauce, and oil in large bowl with a wooden spoon until well blended. Add eggs 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla extract.
4. Mix in dry ingredients alternately with buttermilk in 3 additions each. Mix in grated zucchini, mix in chocolate chips and nuts. Pour batter into prepared pan.
5. Bake cake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 50 minutes. Cool cake completely in pan.
6. If desired, frost cake.

Chocolate Frosting (just enough to go between 2 round layers and on top, not the sides)

~3.5-4 oz semisweet or bittersweet chocolate

2 TBS butter, softened
1 cup powdered sugar
tiny pinch salt
2 TBS milk
1 tsp vanilla

1. Melt chocolate in microwave (as suits your machine -- I like to start with 20-sec increments and then decrease to 10-15 as it melts further). Take breaks between heating to stir.
2. Once chocolate is melted, add butter to the bowl and mix with a spoon until melted and combined.
3. Add vanilla and mix until combined, then do the same with the milk and the salt.
4. Sift powdered sugar into the chocolate mixture and still until smooth and combined. Let cool a bit before using on cake.

Ugly Sweets Containing Chocolate Chips and Butter

I am convinced that somewhere there exists an alternate universe, parallel to our own, in which all things are aptly described and named. Firefighters drive around in vehicles known as "put OUT the fire" trucks. "Table scraps" are, in fact, little scraps of table. And all homes have retractable tops that roll back to reveal large, soft pillows to cushion the matrimonial downpour at every forecast of a "bridal shower."

But perhaps most importantly, the cookies whose recipe I am highlighting are not called "Chocolate Chunk Cookies" (as so misleadingly labeled by Mark Bittman,) but instead "Malformed Munchies." I mean, look at them. They are misshapen hunks of dough stuck in an oven for 6 minutes. Are they edible? Yes. Tasty? When not burning on the edges because of the ridiculously inconvenient shape into which the recipe instructs you to form them, yes. Cookies? I think that's a bit of a stretch. Try them yourself and see if you get any different results. Though admittedly, I made one small adjustment, which was to use 2/3 c brown sugar and 1/3 c white sugar instead of the recipe's recommended 1 c white sugar. So maybe in that alternate universe, I'm called, "Complains About Recipes When Really, She Can't Follow Directions." The world may never know.