tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70875942342016351622023-11-16T07:59:13.903-08:00Pipe Dream PastriesFor those whose baking is second only to... their day jobs.Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-86138620779933839802013-05-26T12:03:00.003-07:002013-05-27T15:19:50.180-07:00Madeleines de Commercy / Madeleines with the hump on top<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbHv6q6PDqLwB_Z9BuSmTUiIia9FGYud-rp5owoMLyb40GZkBb_HOQUJMeP2wlcMX0-W5pvhxD8EmzUoePvnuLwuNAFSPUh-E5to_WcMeERZfUl-e20RZajumueepiAnagNWrIH4M7kwk/s1600/IMG_0447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbHv6q6PDqLwB_Z9BuSmTUiIia9FGYud-rp5owoMLyb40GZkBb_HOQUJMeP2wlcMX0-W5pvhxD8EmzUoePvnuLwuNAFSPUh-E5to_WcMeERZfUl-e20RZajumueepiAnagNWrIH4M7kwk/s320/IMG_0447.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When it comes to baking supplies, I am a bit of a contradiction. On the one hand, I keep my kitchen supplied with enough equipment to ensure that I always have the right tool (or a close approximation of the right tool) for every job. On the other hand, I try to follow a philosophy similar to that of Henry David Thoreau:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Mistrust any enterprise that requires new clothes."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For many years, I had a rule of thumb guiding me to avoid all recipes that required specialized equipment. No bundt molds, no pastry bags, and most definitively, no madeleine pans. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Of course, there's only one downside to the rule; no madeleine pans means </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">no madeleines</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I've never been a particular fan of the cake/cookie/whatever, so I figured it was no big loss. And then one day, I was possessed by the desire to try my hand at them and see what all the fuss was about. So I gave in to the pans, and I have been lost ever since. Even though they are everything I usually try to avoid (labor-intensive, requiring special equipment, low yield), they are also amazing the day they are baked, and </span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">pret-ty darn good when thawed from the freezer. Crisp edges with a soft, fluffy interior, and the tiniest bit of lemon flavor that brightens the flavor of the mellow browned butter. To me, totally worth the purchase. But if you're not convinced, do not fret. Just like that joke about how fast do you have to be to outrun a bear? (Faster than your slowest friend), you needn't buy such ridiculous baking equipment yourself. All you need is a sucker friend who will let you borrow!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Madeleines de Commercy</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZLowxX0k7tAqYvcVljhIiqEpwvUzPWDOoFRLfp6S7k_010t5Hgk6zvUlSvYGY0rEn12_nRfeF4xtF8-rl4mdL5ZCwLPyElNvBFoyfHzzkxCO8J-OxKMON31RQ7axAd8es30pRU80hUw/s1600/CM+Capture+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbZLowxX0k7tAqYvcVljhIiqEpwvUzPWDOoFRLfp6S7k_010t5Hgk6zvUlSvYGY0rEn12_nRfeF4xtF8-rl4mdL5ZCwLPyElNvBFoyfHzzkxCO8J-OxKMON31RQ7axAd8es30pRU80hUw/s320/CM+Capture+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Adapted from Julia Child, <a href="http://hungrysofia.com/2010/08/06/julia-childs-madeleines-de-commercy/">Hungry Sofia</a>, and <a href="http://101cookbooks.com/">101cookbooks</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yield: ~12-16 madeleines</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ingredients:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 large eggs, beaten</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2/3 cup sugar</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1/8 tsp salt</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1 cup unbleached, all-purpose flour</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">4 oz unsalted butter + 1 1/2 TBS unsalted butter (1 stick + 1 1/2 TBS = 9 1/2 TBS total)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1 [additional, separate] TBS flour</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1 tsp pure vanilla extract</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">zest of 1 lemon</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTNzcFfyRZF6_FTVNkMNqwNUBMuz3T2REbmYYoUq8jvcwE0mPdDyOb_6l5RAlmhy1bYMP9PjtAXyyoloXTxNk_mau_A6yKzSOa6y2iSXdtoW6Yr2QYuIK39p6BAJlYa97Ijq1IaD2iZA/s1600/IMG_0452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTNzcFfyRZF6_FTVNkMNqwNUBMuz3T2REbmYYoUq8jvcwE0mPdDyOb_6l5RAlmhy1bYMP9PjtAXyyoloXTxNk_mau_A6yKzSOa6y2iSXdtoW6Yr2QYuIK39p6BAJlYa97Ijq1IaD2iZA/s200/IMG_0452.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Equipment: 2 large Madeleine pans, pastry brush, strainer</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Note: Before beginning these steps, bring all ingredients to room temperature </b>(except the butter, as that will be melted.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Directions:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1. Heat oven to 375 degrees F.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2. Melt the butter (all 9 1/2 TBS) in a small saucepan over medium heat until it turns brown and gives off a nutty aroma, ~5-10 minutes (depending on the power of your stove burners). Strain the butter into another medium-sized bowl using a strainer lined with a paper towel. Discard the paper towel containing the milk solids and set browned, clarified butter aside to cool to room temperature. (If you're in a hurry, cool the browned butter by immersing the bottom of the bowl in an ice bath and stirring the butter until cooled, but still liquid.)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCj72Fq1XyQxvP5PBCQokqWMy6_HEPZKK9yJPL58VPX-8-YoNCyAcxO6vA57LpyckQc-OJuSXb6AA-TJ5u0NeG3w3Zv4CxUbbqGW79f7mBivn5a5TSLyRhyc4-y23028E-nX7mOw_uqfg/s1600/IMG_0433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCj72Fq1XyQxvP5PBCQokqWMy6_HEPZKK9yJPL58VPX-8-YoNCyAcxO6vA57LpyckQc-OJuSXb6AA-TJ5u0NeG3w3Zv4CxUbbqGW79f7mBivn5a5TSLyRhyc4-y23028E-nX7mOw_uqfg/s200/IMG_0433.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">3. While the butter is cooling, separate out 1 1/2 TBS of the melted, browned butter and combine it with the additional 1 TBS flour in a small bowl. Use a pastry brush to combine these and make a paste. Then, paint each of the madeleine cups in the molds with the mixture. Use a paper towel to dab out any puddles of excess flour/butter paste. Set aside.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">4. Combine flour (1 cup) and sugar in a mixing bowl and add 3/4 of the beaten eggs. Beat vigorously with a wooden spoon to blend into a heavy cream -- if very stiff, add a little bit of the remaining egg, one droplet at a time. Set aside for 10 minutes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">5. Beat the remaining bit of egg into the batter, and stir in the cool butter. Stir in the salt, vanilla, and lemon zest. Cover the batter and refrigerate for at least one hour.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrfRrYAOIA-ggorD8OUrTCHwje-JwO1K5iHgQlKOD_xkd2YXj_Jo4cNFZOabM_IlHJirWw59JSWAz7GyZAR8zveJEZhvJ9cRubrLLpuIckIs3eIxtrqk5hSbjGH32T0HJA153Xwve3j0w/s1600/IMG_0464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrfRrYAOIA-ggorD8OUrTCHwje-JwO1K5iHgQlKOD_xkd2YXj_Jo4cNFZOabM_IlHJirWw59JSWAz7GyZAR8zveJEZhvJ9cRubrLLpuIckIs3eIxtrqk5hSbjGH32T0HJA153Xwve3j0w/s200/IMG_0464.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">6. Using a spoon and a rubber spatula (or 2 spoons), drop a rounded tablespoonful of batter into each Madeleine cup. Do not spread the batter to fill the molds. Repeat with remaining batter and madeleine pan.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">7. Set pans on the middle racks of the oven and bake for ~10-13 minutes, until each Madeleine is golden brown around the edges. The batter will spread on its own to fill the cups and a hump will gradually form in the middle. Once you've removed the pans from the oven, give each one a sharp rap on the table to release the cakes from the molds. Unmold onto a rack, humped side up.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">8. Serve as is, or sprinkle tops with a dusting of confectioner's sugar. If you'd like to save them for later, skip the confectioner's sugar. Let cool, wrap in an airtight freezer bag, and freeze the cakes. Let them come to room temperature before serving.</span><br />
<br />Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-36733365930754151262011-06-29T19:27:00.000-07:002011-06-29T22:15:18.846-07:00Vanilla Cupcakes with Chocolate Buttercream<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IZrjoyvmjmIO-fcPPQSgVVYlyjrsToPBQ1rr5PYQzC0Y14d7Rma2IB_m3uD9Yu-xI77aAISyveEqbyIouP7r5kbLPQ_1kPZ-4uncTN0y5yYUYpyIHR4b_LBD3qxedDcRMNbK289GnrM/s1600/IMG_0518.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IZrjoyvmjmIO-fcPPQSgVVYlyjrsToPBQ1rr5PYQzC0Y14d7Rma2IB_m3uD9Yu-xI77aAISyveEqbyIouP7r5kbLPQ_1kPZ-4uncTN0y5yYUYpyIHR4b_LBD3qxedDcRMNbK289GnrM/s320/IMG_0518.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623837424964904754" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The best cupcakes of my life were the ones I never got to eat. I was maybe seven or eight at the time, and we were on a trip to Mammoth with my extended family. Being young and fidgety, the long drive up from Southern California nearly cost me my sanity. So by the time we arrived, all I wanted to do was move around.<br /><br />We had rented a cabin or house of some sort, and since it was summertime, I took advantage of the pool. (How second-grader of me, to drive all the way up to Mammoth to ignore the trees and the mountains and fixate instead on the ubiquitous swimming pool.) I swam and swam my little brains out, until I realized that I was not at all accustomed to the altitude, and soon found myself nauseous and mopey.<br /><br />What put the nail in my sulky coffin was that it was one of my cousin's birthdays, which the family was celebrating with cupcakes. I can't recall what type of cupcakes they were (my guess is "funfetti"), but I still remember the pangs of longing I felt when I realized I was too ill to partake in them.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVwx88rYo2iZc-nKNRrg5qwtKdNCJfcdH54o7M4pa5AKIZ1OY1vJUmpHFwPibs9mfoBWgrzVa8eQ-667sMvtR3G0gh1lH78r9HzRQtBibg-EpBzc8ct5Nk386UBuXBnxp6uAGBHAqb_w/s1600/IMG_0533.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVwx88rYo2iZc-nKNRrg5qwtKdNCJfcdH54o7M4pa5AKIZ1OY1vJUmpHFwPibs9mfoBWgrzVa8eQ-667sMvtR3G0gh1lH78r9HzRQtBibg-EpBzc8ct5Nk386UBuXBnxp6uAGBHAqb_w/s200/IMG_0533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623837601739630274" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">By this time, night had fallen, and it was quite dark. My dad, seeing my disappointment at being unable to share in the celebration, took me outside through the back door. He led me a few steps away from the house, to be farther away from the lights within. Then he picked me up and began pointing out all the constellations that the brightness of our hometown streetlamps had always hidden from view. He didn't show me obscure ones, just the main cast of characters: the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, maybe Orion. I didn't care much about the constellations anyway, so amazed was I by the sheer volume and brightness of the hitherto faint sky diamonds.<br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Y00hWuokd-35jSfI9m6Rtu50pFHrH2Obx-KPK4nIrRNunF7hrPDYK6KBkMIcwVuwi7KBi4iXTwN9GYMuwmLDOlD6spbVGCw_pmycgCXmfzr6I5vyDG6T3l1xwqoMlQuK-6mTESLCi5M/s1600/IMG_0517.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Y00hWuokd-35jSfI9m6Rtu50pFHrH2Obx-KPK4nIrRNunF7hrPDYK6KBkMIcwVuwi7KBi4iXTwN9GYMuwmLDOlD6spbVGCw_pmycgCXmfzr6I5vyDG6T3l1xwqoMlQuK-6mTESLCi5M/s200/IMG_0517.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623837794516073202" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">When we'd first left the house, I had cast a glance backwards to see my cheery, cupcake-eating family within, and I'd been jealous. But after a few minutes out beneath the stars with my father, I remember looking back at all the folks inside and thinking that if they knew what I was experiencing out there, <span style="font-style: italic;">they</span> would be jealous of <span style="font-style: italic;">me</span>.<br /><br />It is in that spirit that I share this recipe for the best vanilla cupcakes I've eaten in a long time. The recipe is from the America's Test Kitchen Family Baking Book, and I didn't bother to modify it, because it was excellent as is. The cakes are flavorful even and especially without frosting, but since most people are all about the frosting, I recommend <a href="http://confessionsoftart.blogspot.com/2010/05/quick-chocolate-buttercream.html">this recipe</a> for chocolate buttercream. There are many chocolate buttercream recipes out there, but I liked this one because it didn't require me to chop or melt any chocolate -- and it's very tasty. Paired together, the two of them served as the perfect reminder that sometimes, with a little help, a dose of bitter disappointment can still become (forgive me) the icing on the cake.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Vanilla Cupcakes</span><br />from America's Test Kitchen<br />Yield: 20-24 cupcakes<br /><br />2 3/4 cups (11 oz) cake flour<br />2 tsp baking powder<br />3/4 tsp salt<br />16 TBS (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened<br />1 3/4 cups sugar<br />4 large eggs, room temperature<br />1 TBS vanilla extract<br />1 1/2 cups whole milk, room temperature<br /><br />Directions:<br /><br />1. Adjust the oven racks to the upper-middle and lower-middle positions and h</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">eat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line 2 12-cup muffin tins with paper liners - I like to put two liners in each cup, as it makes them sturdier when you pour or spoon in the batter. Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together in a medium bowl.<br /><br />2. In a large bowl, beat the butter and sugar together with an electric mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, 3-6 minutes. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, and then the vanilla until combined, about 30 seconds.<br /><br />3. Reduce the mixer speed to low and beat in one-third of the flour mixture, followed by half of the milk. Repeat with half of the remaining flour mixture and the remaining milk. Beat in the remaining flour mixture until just incorporated.<br /><br />4. Give the batter a final stir with a rubber spatula to make sure it is thoroughly combined. Use a standard 1/4 cup ice cream scoop to portion the batter into each cup. Bake the cupcakes until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with a few crumbs attached, 15-20 minutes, switching and rotating the tins halfway through baking. Let the cupcakes cool in the tins for 10 minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack to cool completely. Spread the frosting evenly over the cupcakes and serve.<br /></span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-66974097999299929332011-05-31T21:11:00.000-07:002011-05-31T22:04:19.615-07:00Pink Cupcakes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGu8EwTwnPwTk45tSxqN7znPoKCtoLzgpO9PSRhXB3Kh9stCr5ELP5VRQAAor0htuXi1BczCthNvIGhDdeDRBjZioKMWG8ok7lrQvosCQopqP5ORj_8ELVBzhCtKy14ztG2eHO-59rSZE/s1600/IMG_0389.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 396px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGu8EwTwnPwTk45tSxqN7znPoKCtoLzgpO9PSRhXB3Kh9stCr5ELP5VRQAAor0htuXi1BczCthNvIGhDdeDRBjZioKMWG8ok7lrQvosCQopqP5ORj_8ELVBzhCtKy14ztG2eHO-59rSZE/s320/IMG_0389.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613099452416189186" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I've heard it said that inside every woman, deep down, there's a princess. Princess-related theories about child development abound these days, and I've heard many attestations that rituals such as proms and weddings tend to cater to said Secret Inner Princesses. The thought goes that inside every reasonable, logical, respectable woman, there stands a version of herself bedecked in a flouncy gown with a sparkling tiara upon her crown and a crystal scepter in her hand. Okay, maybe not the scepter, but that's how I imagine it.<br /><br />My problem with the princess theory tends to be, first and foremost, a superficial issue with the universal princess color: pink.<br /><br />My ideas about the color pink were cemented in my childhood, while watching the movie "Funny Face." Classic Audrey Hepburn with Fred Astaire, dancing and singing and pretending like Audrey hasn't been speaking French all her life (mhm, </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">sur</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">e</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">). At the start of the film, Maggie, the feisty female editor of a famous fashion magazine is writing an editorial that turns into an extensive number about why every woman should "Think Pink." All the dresses shown are pink, the office doors get painted</span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib8e6gGnBuPgRwn9FKDGJmP_2am071p0DDVUhWdV5iFeX3-o-hZd2ZlWh4PlGqDrN6umD3-oXXx-UoIY9BgLejeOsBBKOZ5n_8MvFIX6cnl-CH4Wbc5ByFRXF3lkeW0NTrzwMbTzorttQ/s1600/IMG_0395.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib8e6gGnBuPgRwn9FKDGJmP_2am071p0DDVUhWdV5iFeX3-o-hZd2ZlWh4PlGqDrN6umD3-oXXx-UoIY9BgLejeOsBBKOZ5n_8MvFIX6cnl-CH4Wbc5ByFRXF3lkeW0NTrzwMbTzorttQ/s200/IMG_0395.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613107665029574898" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> pink, one woman is even brushing her teeth with cartoony pink toothpaste. At the conclusion </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">of the number, a side character comes up to Maggie (who is wearing her usual snappy gray and white business ensemble) and marvels at the fact that since her editorial, he hasn't seen one woman in anything but pink. He asks why she, too, isn't sporting the color of the moment.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />She responds, "I wouldn't be caught dead."</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And she was so smart, so independent, so cool, I remember thinking, "Man, I want to be just like her when </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> grow up!"</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHlmYvNZuSfId8WnlHGdcZQ6pzuBlIC6F0vRQ5gJifKTf-pGgaEQHHZzb0WCBxCvBIojA-6VEl24Ht2tnHKcSaAt1RcpgAF3cQM1dyuaFZRwEuukZedkMU6-eHXCtDS3KS7WyIo3HTnSQ/s1600/IMG_0381.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHlmYvNZuSfId8WnlHGdcZQ6pzuBlIC6F0vRQ5gJifKTf-pGgaEQHHZzb0WCBxCvBIojA-6VEl24Ht2tnHKcSaAt1RcpgAF3cQM1dyuaFZRwEuukZedkMU6-eHXCtDS3KS7WyIo3HTnSQ/s200/IMG_0381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613111694303065458" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I've since come a long way in my prejudices against the color; in fact, in many measures, I've embraced it. I no longer go into a huge guilt spiral when I admire my shiny pink travel coffee mug, nor am I ashamed to have a few pink items in my closet or have a fondness for the occasional use of pink nail polish. If sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, can't pink sometimes just be pink? </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And yet there's something that still irks me about the fact that I so delighted in baking these Pink Cupcakes. They don't have enough strawberry flavor to warrant them being called Strawberry Cupcakes, just like they have too much strawberry flavor to be called White Cupcakes. They're somewhere in between. And as the original recipe author says in her post </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://smittenkitchen.com/2008/10/pink-lady-cake/">here</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">, they really do taste, well...pink.</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />To be more specific, there's a pleasant lightness in omitting egg yolks that gives the cake more substance than an angel cake, but less substance than a yellow one. Mine had a nice, chewy bite to them, but I also nearly overcooked them (okay -- so I </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">did </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">overcook a few. Don't tell anyone). I liked the tinge of strawberry flavor, aided by the pink-tinted frosting that contained no berry flavor whatsoever, but seemed to once paired with the cakes. And the cream cheese frosting made an excellent pairing, with a slight tang from the cream cheese tempered by the sweetness of the powdered sugar.<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />I must also admit that the pink cakes and the pink frosting did make them more enjoyable for the eye and the palate. Don't ask me why -- I don't want to have to think about whether or not liking pink stuff is anti-feminist. I don't consider myself as being much of the "inner princess" type, but it would seem I'm not above such rose-tinted temptations, and I don't wish to be a hypocrite, either. So instead, I prefer to think that all girls, no matter how primped or prissy or superficial-seeming they may be have within them an inner Maggie: an intelligent, earnest, sharply-dressed professional woman... who wouldn't be caught dead in pink.<br /><br />Summary:</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />Recipe:</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> can be found </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://smittenkitchen.com/2008/10/pink-lady-cake/">here</a><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />Texture:</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> Light but not too airy, a nice mild chew to the cakes</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />Effort/Time Required:</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> Uses a lot of baking equipment, takes a good bit of time to make, requires ingredients at room temp (read: more time required)</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />Great for: </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Parties of any kind, but make them the day before and keep them frosted and in airtight containers in the fridge until an hour or two before serving</span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />Baking notes: </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Be careful not to overbake - they can burn quickly</span><br /></span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-57801785601871686632009-09-17T22:38:00.000-07:002009-09-17T22:38:24.452-07:00Croissants<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwMEOcR3I-MxXGGcv9_swJ7bWGYebUbwgNmZPV6NcMJDC6OSJJEhmlm0GqxJAKJ9jML8QKJUp_Ng0vzjt_TEFOK_GA_hE1nov5CJCGaApA70EPe9NhI8G6Dt6N326i7OlZb1bhT1cpqA/s1600-h/IMG_0528.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 208px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwMEOcR3I-MxXGGcv9_swJ7bWGYebUbwgNmZPV6NcMJDC6OSJJEhmlm0GqxJAKJ9jML8QKJUp_Ng0vzjt_TEFOK_GA_hE1nov5CJCGaApA70EPe9NhI8G6Dt6N326i7OlZb1bhT1cpqA/s320/IMG_0528.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382644940263109986" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Not too long ago, I decided it would be good for me to face my fear of heights by skydiving. I am naturally quite timid when it comes to "extreme" sports, but the opportunity arose, and after much anxious waffling, I opted to participate. One freak accident and 10 stitches later, I found myself hobbling around on crutches. To console myself, I made a list of all the things I'd do when I was well -- learn to surf, go white-water rafting, maybe even attempt a triathlon! Because life is too short to let fear limit one's adventures, right?<br /><br /></span> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </div> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </div> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0A0Q445fAnkcMXTgw-qEJRyVntKBDue75zUSQbB0kna0exGO0026OQC5xiy4uIlL8La7_f7iRkkR9vMRpbuBhjEk8WCDA-Uq69QJPV5aCGAjlxpO7Ck3JZljihb6VvqYuy2mHc2_sc0w/s1600-h/IMG_0519.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0A0Q445fAnkcMXTgw-qEJRyVntKBDue75zUSQbB0kna0exGO0026OQC5xiy4uIlL8La7_f7iRkkR9vMRpbuBhjEk8WCDA-Uq69QJPV5aCGAjlxpO7Ck3JZljihb6VvqYuy2mHc2_sc0w/s200/IMG_0519.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382645174240000114" border="0" /></a>Since my recovery, I've managed to keep the unspoken promise to myself not to let my fear keep me from enjoying life ... in athletics, anyway. Baking is another matter. When a close friend and her boyfriend recently moved to the Bay Area, they asked if they could commission me to bake croissants. And despite all those shiny new "carpe diem" resolutions posted in my brain, I immediately laughed off their request. Homemade pastry? Are you kidding? Mind you, I didn't have past croissant trauma -- I was simply too afraid to even try.<br /><br /></div> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </div> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </div> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBJri4F-z4L9Jy2Kdt7OHMcMGTjvjNvYCIk1yCqrOYOvLOdqO5d0wvV-QdEm-YQCz5ZW4Rw5S6j6F27_kE8mp5G22ZlG4VTYBwATsowNNjFvdkGAe-FIwYJTXOJuN3ihXsZTD5AIR4S0/s1600-h/IMG_2546.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNBJri4F-z4L9Jy2Kdt7OHMcMGTjvjNvYCIk1yCqrOYOvLOdqO5d0wvV-QdEm-YQCz5ZW4Rw5S6j6F27_kE8mp5G22ZlG4VTYBwATsowNNjFvdkGAe-FIwYJTXOJuN3ihXsZTD5AIR4S0/s200/IMG_2546.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382650515721550418" border="0" /></a>The disconnect only hit me weeks later, as I was dressing in the morning. I reached down to pull a sock over the new and impressive 4"-long crescent-shaped scar on my ankle, my skydiving badge of honor. And then I realized that I was more eager to hurl myself out a plane thousands of feet in the air than I was to attempt homemade pastry dough. It is an odd thing to realize that one's fear of failure surpasses one's fear of bodily injury. Odd and rather pathetic. Both humbled and inspired, I decided to sail forward into the Croissant Sea, knowing full well that the potential for failure loomed ahead. But after one false start, I managed to figure it out -- thanks to a fantastically explicit recipe and the support of my loved ones.<br /><br /><div id=":zs" class="ii gt"><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIQS0SCmHgLtvnxyPoBzLpg7c9qz7XRT8kUx9zRSkTgga3ErPrCnKLLJwiCQHHVqIuSwTe2Ywg_Lvk6ldasycWli5DmC0baEa5T-PvNBNQlmKGAwTBPFEX_0Jm0wxG7HaLXnsGUJNMcQ/s1600-h/IMG_0526.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIQS0SCmHgLtvnxyPoBzLpg7c9qz7XRT8kUx9zRSkTgga3ErPrCnKLLJwiCQHHVqIuSwTe2Ywg_Lvk6ldasycWli5DmC0baEa5T-PvNBNQlmKGAwTBPFEX_0Jm0wxG7HaLXnsGUJNMcQ/s200/IMG_0526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382651188183513122" border="0" /></a>This recipe yields rather small but absolutely delicious croissants. They passed both of the two very important tests administered by the original requester and her guy. She grabbed one end of the crescent and tugged, revealing the soft, almost feathery interior, and proceeded to eat the thing a few layers at a time. Her boyfriend immediately took a large bite, yielding the satisfying "light crunch" sound that only comes from eating flaky pastry, and a smile that took up approximately 30% of his face. Plus, it made my house smell like that of the witch in Hansel and Gretel (read: heavenly), and gave me a renewed sense of power and purpose.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeuoQgWgT84hvy3zF4HLain5njSYpSHD5A-WR0AIoLOhThxXhvIfGRdtaM4klHWupQlseYLIUkz4bmZE9coy3xBnyBusG9Bmv0rIB_YhMo7ib8h5-GQPcLiY9tz_9MU3psVzfR9IIWRIM/s1600-h/IMG_0523.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeuoQgWgT84hvy3zF4HLain5njSYpSHD5A-WR0AIoLOhThxXhvIfGRdtaM4klHWupQlseYLIUkz4bmZE9coy3xBnyBusG9Bmv0rIB_YhMo7ib8h5-GQPcLiY9tz_9MU3psVzfR9IIWRIM/s200/IMG_0523.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382651596030017922" border="0" /></a>So the next time I get the urge to cower at the prospect of a challenge, I know exactly what I'll do. Instead of having to glance at my grisly scar, I'll simply pop one of my (now frozen) croissants into the oven, enjoy it while it's almost too hot to eat because I can't wait for it to cool, brush the crumbs from my face, and proceed boldly into the face of danger. If it works out, great! If not, at least I've got a freezer full of croissants.</div> </div><br />--> Get recipe <a href="http://www.mamaliga.com/recipes/croissants-a-la-julia-child">here</a><br /></div>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-11176981697899807022009-08-14T17:22:00.000-07:002009-08-14T18:29:37.428-07:00Zucchini Pineapple Cupcakes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIoIc_n9rLSXm-30sfB9aI13DLkfW7r_nyo9kUOdek17pIS9XCQEoYWf1ZUMgYmcoRXyVTUxkO3ZmHNhQg2xA2AdFD_dtimsNkx77Q10hviXqab-HzUF5ayRS6vnkBO9rXiK795Bi_w8/s1600-h/IMG_2500.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzIoIc_n9rLSXm-30sfB9aI13DLkfW7r_nyo9kUOdek17pIS9XCQEoYWf1ZUMgYmcoRXyVTUxkO3ZmHNhQg2xA2AdFD_dtimsNkx77Q10hviXqab-HzUF5ayRS6vnkBO9rXiK795Bi_w8/s320/IMG_2500.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369994183619828690" border="0" /></a>Most everyone feels the need to have a space of their own, but perhaps no one feels it so acutely as those who have siblings. There's something about having to share and being treated equally by one's parents that tends to bring out the unadulterated desire to have things that are Just For You. At least, that's how it worked for me.<br /><br />In all fairness to my parents, there weren't too many things I had to share with my sister. Truthfully, being the older child actually afforded me far more opportunities to be the first in, well, pretty much everything. Yet despite all the advantages of my birth order, I nevertheless became wholly consumed with the thought of having my own bedroom.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_r8zuOxGJZwiey7v89eRfRtdjTUuIPmRJSguwC6HQH_Mp6Iue9KcjRfoQ__Ws5hk9hC0tSwbJXvdk9IrBONYG3Np7HSBgiXa5hRIEsLxo8OJy5mPZ7_cEqo2BPcuz3iYuAqrh_FqwM4/s1600-h/IMG_2493.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_r8zuOxGJZwiey7v89eRfRtdjTUuIPmRJSguwC6HQH_Mp6Iue9KcjRfoQ__Ws5hk9hC0tSwbJXvdk9IrBONYG3Np7HSBgiXa5hRIEsLxo8OJy5mPZ7_cEqo2BPcuz3iYuAqrh_FqwM4/s200/IMG_2493.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369994568523608194" border="0" /></a>Did I, in my 7 year-old wisdom, have some master plan for the space I felt I so deserved? I can't recollect any. Though I suspect I would have been perfectly content just to fashion myself a construction paper crown and lord over invisible subjects in my newfound bedroom realm with an iron fist.<br /><br />No, it was simply a matter of principle. Although I'd had my own room 3 years prior to my sister's arrival, I felt I had been too young to appreciate it. So one afternoon, I picked up my favorite blanket and pillow and wandered around the house, going from room to room attempting to annex each as my <span style="font-style: italic;">very own</span>. Of course, I got kicked out of each room just as quickly, particularly since I chose absurd places like the bathtub or beneath the piano bench as my home base.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_lZ1ScmTawF_dO9VSnLN2Vd3o9LF7p5k3o5phAB2rT0LEbKTiWoIaeUnF-zRwHu6J5J9fR-o5DWbsN5zGKjF_4g1LOJ1uoBw69Q8OzYzJW3hhWUImc8OAqRjsW_3F9HzLbHqVM1lvqY/s1600-h/IMG_2503.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_lZ1ScmTawF_dO9VSnLN2Vd3o9LF7p5k3o5phAB2rT0LEbKTiWoIaeUnF-zRwHu6J5J9fR-o5DWbsN5zGKjF_4g1LOJ1uoBw69Q8OzYzJW3hhWUImc8OAqRjsW_3F9HzLbHqVM1lvqY/s200/IMG_2503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369994759992262498" border="0" /></a>Now that I'm grown, I no longer have any need to stage a coup when I want some space of my own. It is a supremely comforting feeling to be able to set out some butter, turn on the oven, and transform my humble kitchen into the kingdom I've always wanted. And as an added bonus, I can free my inner dictator with countless decrees. (Never tap the measuring cup while measuring flour! Always be careful when using extrafine sugar because it clumps easily! No recipes that use pre-made cake mixes!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFD96AMNhaNs7j4UtWbpwxgxdzt27rnm2Ve-0bOUf4B8I93KxQc7s0PSItASfrXpEltHnTTNwOAZNDVNNIwES5SO7zsUg5dmB66VyveJibzl1DjORVNsRU-4grBwvdMpWwhMI4SstprY/s1600-h/IMG_2499.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFD96AMNhaNs7j4UtWbpwxgxdzt27rnm2Ve-0bOUf4B8I93KxQc7s0PSItASfrXpEltHnTTNwOAZNDVNNIwES5SO7zsUg5dmB66VyveJibzl1DjORVNsRU-4grBwvdMpWwhMI4SstprY/s200/IMG_2499.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369995149647580946" border="0" /></a>Luckily for these <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2009/07/stop-the-presses/">Zucchini Pineapple Cupcakes</a>, they followed all the rules of my kingdom and did not have to feel my wrath. They are 100% cake mix-free, and also moist but not oily, fresh but not too vegetable-tinged, and not so sweet that you feel your blood sugar skyrocket upon consumption (but sweet enough to benefit from the slight tangy bite of the piece of pineapple atop each one). The recipe has them as a sheet cake, but I simply used cupcake pans instead and reduced the baking time -- start checking around 20 minutes. So if you're ever feeling overrun, take a moment to kick everyone out and reclaim your rightful place on your kitchen throne. Because it's good to be King.Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-36654784260570006182009-07-13T19:52:00.000-07:002009-07-17T19:20:06.201-07:00Red Velvet Cupcakes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmmrlG7ASjG_Ap67SljhZVPDfxPBoMWVee1s3WRcazHWSvvrNHLdRps6esz1lXEBMOhKG3Y6NfsQEeqYhfxvnjCeXlAjjbSH6bjNctpPwFbKHFNMxgyLB9FjOTKJbOpa__q-xvhYXD08/s1600-h/photo(2).jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 237px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXmmrlG7ASjG_Ap67SljhZVPDfxPBoMWVee1s3WRcazHWSvvrNHLdRps6esz1lXEBMOhKG3Y6NfsQEeqYhfxvnjCeXlAjjbSH6bjNctpPwFbKHFNMxgyLB9FjOTKJbOpa__q-xvhYXD08/s320/photo(2).jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359609424009078258" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">In elementary school</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">, my parents were the ultimate bake sale team. Mom's fantastic baking skills coupled with Dad's insistence that when a kid lays down a quarter, he should get a substantial sweet. This meant that he ensured all our treats were oversized. As mom put it, we were hosting our own Monster Cupcake Rally.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">It's no surprise, then, that our goodies sold first, putting the smaller or storebought items to shame. This prowess was a great source of pride for me, so I had a bit of swagger each time we packed up the cupcakes to carry them to my classroom. One day we outdid ourselves with gargantuan minicakes covered in a homemade pink frosting. I recall my mom's prophetic voice warning my dad that he was overloading the box I was to carry, saying I would certainly drop them. Dad and I issued a collective scoff and forged on without heeding her words.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_rRyR4iiV2YLaoHd3Rus0ZaH7Rf8cVrfqCvVY3haGKseH-po90RbfS9BDPhSqgLABgNKzJiwiJheUGKvx3Fud11rol8A4lKJ6lWbgrbPrz7TEiTmT5pQEFYL-TkSGlCp2IsREjsGP2Q/s1600-h/IMG_2448.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj_rRyR4iiV2YLaoHd3Rus0ZaH7Rf8cVrfqCvVY3haGKseH-po90RbfS9BDPhSqgLABgNKzJiwiJheUGKvx3Fud11rol8A4lKJ6lWbgrbPrz7TEiTmT5pQEFYL-TkSGlCp2IsREjsGP2Q/s200/IMG_2448.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359609708537094898" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">You can see where this is going. When my mom and sister pulled up to the school to deliver the rest of the goods, they glimpsed Dad and me, busily picking up cupcakes from the grass, with bits of pink frosting evident in my hair. In my defense, it was a hidden sprinklerhead (that, and my folly) that caused my undoing. And although we managed to salvage most of the cupcakes, my pride remained forever damaged.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyby3-y3IsNvspEDo7oM9fqpzeD-jUcBSbUEc0ZaGKIxqYEw4jZhe_IwoXK0UNw_KImEGDgtq5lNLEA2YcrBkraoirJYVHrxkAOjrxqNtMUivrqhXBCfUPlL1JCkNQIulVQbmkofYLYQ/s1600-h/IMG_2453.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyby3-y3IsNvspEDo7oM9fqpzeD-jUcBSbUEc0ZaGKIxqYEw4jZhe_IwoXK0UNw_KImEGDgtq5lNLEA2YcrBkraoirJYVHrxkAOjrxqNtMUivrqhXBCfUPlL1JCkNQIulVQbmkofYLYQ/s200/IMG_2453.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359609919868324274" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">For many years, I harbored some resentment toward cupcakes, irrational though it was. No matter how much sugar they contained, the thought of pink frosting in my hair left a bitter taste in my mouth. Until, of course, my mom and sister managed to swoop in (just weeks ago) with a cupcake so tasty, it should be called The Reconciliator -- as opposed to its actual name of Red Velvet. These cupcakes were the first to put my skepticism and post-frosting stress disorder to rest. This recipe yields cakes that are moist but not oily, complex but not flashy, and sport a cocoa-to-cake ratio that's balanced just so that you can detect the chocolate flavor without being overwhelmed by it. Their delicious simplicity was enough to make me think that perhaps cupcakes and I can have a happy future together after all. But no pink frosting just yet. Baby steps!</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Red Velvet Cupcakes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Adapted from Paula Deen's recipe here</span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>Ingredients</span><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" class="body-text"> <!--concordance-begin--> <ul><li>2 1/2 cups cake flour </li><li>1 1/2 cups sugar </li><li>1 teaspoon baking soda </li><li>1 teaspoon salt </li><li>2 tablespoons cocoa powder </li><li>3/4 cup vegetable oil</li><li>1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened </li><li>1 cup buttermilk, room temperature </li><li>3 large eggs, room temperature</li><li>2 tablespoons red food coloring</li><li>1 teaspoon white distilled vinegar </li><li>1 teaspoon vanilla extract</li></ul> <h3><span style="font-size:100%;">For the Cream Cheese Frosting:</span></h3> <ul><li>1 8-oz package cream cheese, softened </li><li>1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened </li><li>1 teaspoon vanilla extract </li><li>4 cups sifted confectioners' sugar</li><li>Chopped pecans and fresh raspberries or strawberries, for garnish</li></ul> <!--concordance-end--> <h2><span style="font-size:100%;">Directions</span></h2> <p> Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line 2 (12-cup) muffin pans with cupcake papers. </p><p>In a medium mixing bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, and cocoa powder. In a large bowl cream the butter and sugar together with a wooden spoon. In a Pryex liquid measuring cup, gently beat together the oil, and buttermilk, and then add this to the creamed butter/sugar mixture. Then add the eggs one at a time, food coloring, vinegar, and vanilla with a handheld electric mixer for ~2 minutes, until thoroughly mixed. Add the sifted dry ingredients to the wet and mix until smooth and thoroughly combined. </p><p>Divide the batter evenly among the cupcake tins about 2/3 filled. Bake in oven for about 20 to 22 minutes, turning the pans once, half way through. Test the cupcakes with a toothpick for doneness. Remove from oven and cool completely before frosting. </p> <!--concordance-begin--> <h2><span style="font-size:100%;">For the Cream Cheese Frosting:</span></h2> <!--concordance-end--> <p> In a large mixing bowl, beat the cream cheese, butter and vanilla together until smooth. Add the sugar and on low speed, beat until incorporated. Increase the speed to high and mix until very light and fluffy. </p><p>Garnish with chopped pecans and a fresh raspberry or strawberry. </p><p>Cook's Note: Frost the cupcakes with a butter knife or pipe it on with a big star tip. </p> </div>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-68378287314488758902009-06-08T18:20:00.000-07:002009-06-08T21:50:29.189-07:00Whole Wheat Beer Bread<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEdGwdheLTGoMrWjkPydIPEUH5ybZqfszaDDIg492aoyTGYtiy-y-Z45Cj96tMXjDf6hz-_is0T6l6VxjYPAhzC74C5mTKBTk2UkgHklui1x1KoE4T7cWznSRAhaQonBkzpouTrCvucWU/s1600-h/IMG_2316.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEdGwdheLTGoMrWjkPydIPEUH5ybZqfszaDDIg492aoyTGYtiy-y-Z45Cj96tMXjDf6hz-_is0T6l6VxjYPAhzC74C5mTKBTk2UkgHklui1x1KoE4T7cWznSRAhaQonBkzpouTrCvucWU/s320/IMG_2316.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345132351737503938" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">When you're growing up, adults like to tell you that the easy way is never the right way. Thinking about it now, I can certainly understand that logic. You want your kids to do their homework and not assume that if they're good, some wealthy childless candy baron will make them the heir to an endless chocolate-based fortune. As lovely a thought as it is, one cannot put all one's hopes on a golden ticket.<br /><br /></span><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" id=":1d0" class="ii gt"> <div> </div> <div>But there are many instances in which you realize that shortcuts do boast inherent value. I'm not talking about shortcuts like the unmarked road off the highway that inevitably leads somewhere you don't really want to go. No, I am talking about genuine shortcuts -- the ones that yield the desired result with less time and less effort -- as with derivatives. </div> <div> </div> <div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwuXR5ymrzAJ0pJzOS-ZssjYIetBSc9ENOKk-0QzGAalGseeolgFlmcva9RavVIIB6XASR3nDiXkVwqmpNn7zvesfoSL_hhzay_syMybUlorUhhoETBLIYki7yOAOzWZXSwZdIl02e3FY/s1600-h/IMG_2312.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwuXR5ymrzAJ0pJzOS-ZssjYIetBSc9ENOKk-0QzGAalGseeolgFlmcva9RavVIIB6XASR3nDiXkVwqmpNn7zvesfoSL_hhzay_syMybUlorUhhoETBLIYki7yOAOzWZXSwZdIl02e3FY/s200/IMG_2312.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345134304253374034" border="0" /></a>The first time students are introduced to derivatives in calculus, they are usually given the lengthy, needlessly complex assignment of doing them by hand. You spend an inordinate amount of time working it out, only to find that the next day, the teacher shows you a trick that gives you the same answer in the fraction of the time it originally required. Are you happy to have learned the trick? Of course. Are you put off that you devoted hours (okay, perhaps only several minutes) of your life to executing something that could have been done much more efficiently? A thousand times, yes!<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYA8DiMo16BVsAet8gGy8LhGRbbvrAsxHr1EvXccgFrLgLbQNKM5xtD1cAoXxKxWmwQ4MhWzZV-EDBg-0aXOBvQ7sO3chxb-1P95oLyr8CZYkUEyo0FTHiBC5Xys-D2cu-Mxc4OR4PkE/s1600-h/IMG_2315.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYA8DiMo16BVsAet8gGy8LhGRbbvrAsxHr1EvXccgFrLgLbQNKM5xtD1cAoXxKxWmwQ4MhWzZV-EDBg-0aXOBvQ7sO3chxb-1P95oLyr8CZYkUEyo0FTHiBC5Xys-D2cu-Mxc4OR4PkE/s200/IMG_2315.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345134485463401682" border="0" /></a>There are, sadly, very few instances in life in which shortcuts are so tidy. Fortunately for all involved, this <a href="http://foodiefarmgirl.blogspot.com/2005/11/beer-bread-update-whole-wheat-version.html">recipe</a> for Whole Wheat Beer Bread just happens to be one of them. This loaf will not replace a fancy baguette, nor will it have the complexities of a sourdough boule made from ancient starter. It will, however, provide you with a fresh loaf of homemade bread that is both hearty and tasty, requiring no rising or water of a particular temperature. Slice it thick and toast lightly to best experience the full effect of the bread's density paired with its internal softness. Pull a slice apart with your fingers, take a bite, and feel proud of yourself for not only creating something delicious and amazing (with a fantastically craggy crust), but for sticking it to your high school calculus teacher by going straight to the shortcut.</div> </div>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-13551167137463363472009-05-28T15:05:00.000-07:002009-05-31T21:23:13.938-07:00Fleur de Sel Caramels<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-SWHytO6gd6Ny0IjpGsZQ6VhZzEcGOFCSq4oOPiDK0R6oiSWJvqOzflcKiEx6zWthyphenhyphenV2Rw3pEDHeCDrKZkHrAwyS9GCly6tZ8ZyeBkp_WyQ8EEXv82BXRSW3ULERwB_L50MGrnuxYao/s1600-h/IMG_2330.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 306px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-SWHytO6gd6Ny0IjpGsZQ6VhZzEcGOFCSq4oOPiDK0R6oiSWJvqOzflcKiEx6zWthyphenhyphenV2Rw3pEDHeCDrKZkHrAwyS9GCly6tZ8ZyeBkp_WyQ8EEXv82BXRSW3ULERwB_L50MGrnuxYao/s320/IMG_2330.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342209133717021410" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;color:#000000;" >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.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-Q8e28EFe0zwFQ_kkH4onR4ntcX9gUbQsLJE6gLzcTg9LN7KWL5oBisl8Ei0rM3RmU8CGfJYc-x94Gc6CGX1RA8I6ZoaU8t4_tiZChe6OihBwJ4RVfMigfjffvgNXlkFvhvll4CoKck/s1600-h/IMG_2319.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-Q8e28EFe0zwFQ_kkH4onR4ntcX9gUbQsLJE6gLzcTg9LN7KWL5oBisl8Ei0rM3RmU8CGfJYc-x94Gc6CGX1RA8I6ZoaU8t4_tiZChe6OihBwJ4RVfMigfjffvgNXlkFvhvll4CoKck/s200/IMG_2319.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342209373798015314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">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.<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAML0NtJr6yRY5Ytc6qtVlO2z98P-gPv_cGWwdKIbl25KFuHBH1VeH5Ui3zXdeEZN-O6qVKQJFWx77hPrwrSZYyVwLnw0ONCie0plbdqSvJPejUzx19ixmXfrYV7LzHId9IUxo2cL5CA/s1600-h/IMG_2328.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFAML0NtJr6yRY5Ytc6qtVlO2z98P-gPv_cGWwdKIbl25KFuHBH1VeH5Ui3zXdeEZN-O6qVKQJFWx77hPrwrSZYyVwLnw0ONCie0plbdqSvJPejUzx19ixmXfrYV7LzHId9IUxo2cL5CA/s200/IMG_2328.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342209766314004674" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">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.<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">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.<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"><strong>Fleur de Sel Caramels</strong></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > Adapted from <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/fleur-de-sel-caramels-recipe/index.html">Ina Garten</a></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"> </span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Equipment needed: </span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">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)</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Small saucepan (for cream/butter/salt mixture)</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Candy thermometer (can be found at kitchen supply stores, as well as some grocery stores)</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;color:#000000;" >8" x 8" baking pan, lined with parchment paper and lightly oiled with vegetable oil </span><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"><br />Shopping notes:</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">- Fleur de sel is a fancy French sea salt, but regular sea salt will work nicely instead of the fleur de sel</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">- 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. </span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Ingredients:</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">1 1/2 cup granulated sugar</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">1/4 cup light corn syrup</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">1/2 cup water</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">1 cup heavy cream</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">5 TBS butter</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">1 tsp fleur de sel or sea salt</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ></span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">1/2 tsp vanilla extract<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">Directions:<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">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.</span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"><br />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.<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">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.<br /><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" > </span><div style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;">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</span></div>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-67619887443304268912009-05-13T14:04:00.000-07:002009-05-13T20:46:51.067-07:00Chocolate Zucchini Cake<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WTIG3WANzvZ6DxuNApzs7K1cd1-CVpe0i0LfyysPnCk9gFQqoMqWw6wgPKrfjoQwiqL9dUufoiopMsIKL_wZvOUh_Lbf2V38w2xsLqhJB5X-dwEXlV5mL3VylKgtgA74xpfB9sGuIOY/s1600-h/IMG_2215.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 275px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WTIG3WANzvZ6DxuNApzs7K1cd1-CVpe0i0LfyysPnCk9gFQqoMqWw6wgPKrfjoQwiqL9dUufoiopMsIKL_wZvOUh_Lbf2V38w2xsLqhJB5X-dwEXlV5mL3VylKgtgA74xpfB9sGuIOY/s320/IMG_2215.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335518004773213858" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">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 <span style="font-style: italic;">north</span> 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? </span><br /><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUlzpnk1qlWzZkPqS0kEjAe43V7q-1nHhYB-U0chqA2bdlLlvcAgKCMykH_I2bVgcuf41lIfT1q__sIxHwHRmSNjXQu5T4y9ny1ANU6tmNFfV5e6p-05sicbXTmqUbwOr9EmwOoN2q1TY/s1600-h/IMG_2224.JPG"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333291645329343458" style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; width: 200px; cursor: pointer; height: 150px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUlzpnk1qlWzZkPqS0kEjAe43V7q-1nHhYB-U0chqA2bdlLlvcAgKCMykH_I2bVgcuf41lIfT1q__sIxHwHRmSNjXQu5T4y9ny1ANU6tmNFfV5e6p-05sicbXTmqUbwOr9EmwOoN2q1TY/s200/IMG_2224.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">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.<br /></span></div><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">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.</span></div><br /><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVCm4S5rs0GHlL0rjN7IoZBRZ9YM_p0e55E0jaTC7w9Kmjpr-bFsQBw6YcqBigGKtIRYCAtejwBKDMFoCxdYTPNTVTdjtvr7kyfI95iKSPXRScD8YwCJHHKrdxsPLqW63ptHFL7VvM50/s1600-h/IMG_2228.JPG"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVCm4S5rs0GHlL0rjN7IoZBRZ9YM_p0e55E0jaTC7w9Kmjpr-bFsQBw6YcqBigGKtIRYCAtejwBKDMFoCxdYTPNTVTdjtvr7kyfI95iKSPXRScD8YwCJHHKrdxsPLqW63ptHFL7VvM50/s1600-h/IMG_2228.JPG"></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><strong>Chocolate Zucchini Cake</strong><br /></span></div><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Adapted from Epicurious</span><br /><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">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.</span></div><br /><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Ingredients:</span></div><br /><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour<br />1 cup whole wheat flour -- you can use all regular flour if you don't have any whole wheat<br />1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder<br />1 tsp cinnamon<br />1 teaspoon baking soda<br />1 teaspoon salt<br />1 cup sugar<br />3/4 cup brown sugar<br />3/4 cup applesauce<br />1/4 cup vegetable oil<br />2 large eggs<br />1 teaspoon vanilla extract<br />1/2 cup buttermilk<br />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<br />1 6-ounce package (about 1 cup) semisweet chocolate chips<br />3/4 cup chopped walnuts </span></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfYFs_EsS3JPGfPY2EXeY892Af7hVj5LAV6PeYUnzwt9rAkFXpZx9-gqH4PH2UD2gRoiHx6WuTjkpGlU8BnAJSlfgUBWl-GpxeJodHSXs2Ay3vXdVFBXXUr3YE33ZJrOxTDuQ_cWYz5G0/s1600-h/IMG_2215.JPG"></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVCm4S5rs0GHlL0rjN7IoZBRZ9YM_p0e55E0jaTC7w9Kmjpr-bFsQBw6YcqBigGKtIRYCAtejwBKDMFoCxdYTPNTVTdjtvr7kyfI95iKSPXRScD8YwCJHHKrdxsPLqW63ptHFL7VvM50/s1600-h/IMG_2228.JPG"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333291824937299522" style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; width: 150px; cursor: pointer; height: 200px;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqVCm4S5rs0GHlL0rjN7IoZBRZ9YM_p0e55E0jaTC7w9Kmjpr-bFsQBw6YcqBigGKtIRYCAtejwBKDMFoCxdYTPNTVTdjtvr7kyfI95iKSPXRScD8YwCJHHKrdxsPLqW63ptHFL7VvM50/s200/IMG_2228.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Directions:<br /></span></div><br /><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">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.<br />2. Sift flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt into medium bowl.<br />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.<br />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.<br />5. Bake cake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 50 minutes. Cool cake completely in pan.<br />6. If desired, frost cake.</span></div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Chocolate Frosting (just enough to go between 2 round layers and on top, not the sides)</span><br /><div><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span></div>~3.5-4 oz semisweet or bittersweet chocolate<br /><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 TBS butter, softened<br />1 cup powdered sugar<br />tiny pinch salt<br />2 TBS milk<br />1 tsp vanilla</span></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">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.<br />2. Once chocolate is melted, add butter to the bowl and mix with a spoon until melted and combined.<br />3. Add vanilla and mix until combined, then do the same with the milk and the salt.<br />4. Sift powdered sugar into the chocolate mixture and still until smooth and combined. Let cool a bit before using on cake.</span></div>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-17687442871698453702009-05-07T19:54:00.000-07:002009-05-07T20:26:06.016-07:00Ugly Sweets Containing Chocolate Chips and Butter<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogUya7tRh0SNLxHjYYlJJ_6nZrkofH5lNU0-pHrTjf9PjuwktTnDaOzP2MaDQJy06UEAXdacSqwnMgAqZq5sZkwZlG-g89km6OiGWxWXVOYn5gTtFk56UAGgTg97UE6_w_b_Dr4Wd-KA/s1600-h/IMG_2308.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjogUya7tRh0SNLxHjYYlJJ_6nZrkofH5lNU0-pHrTjf9PjuwktTnDaOzP2MaDQJy06UEAXdacSqwnMgAqZq5sZkwZlG-g89km6OiGWxWXVOYn5gTtFk56UAGgTg97UE6_w_b_Dr4Wd-KA/s320/IMG_2308.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333288831426360834" border="0" /></a>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."<br /><br />But perhaps most importantly, the cookies whose <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/06/dining/062mrex.html?_r=1&emc=eta1">recipe</a> 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? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5aKNdrqF7NvfXzWD0DDDtGApZeT_1VUuxeuRfSMnYTgZWQxbKdi3d3AxidQ32rAwCsNH4I7-MeEzFV3QBG2qUboQMwUT7WseodIo7M3WJdtxQ5bI1LCNK_LpMhZzdKAHKoPsDlKxLI2k/s1600-h/IMG_2306.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5aKNdrqF7NvfXzWD0DDDtGApZeT_1VUuxeuRfSMnYTgZWQxbKdi3d3AxidQ32rAwCsNH4I7-MeEzFV3QBG2qUboQMwUT7WseodIo7M3WJdtxQ5bI1LCNK_LpMhZzdKAHKoPsDlKxLI2k/s200/IMG_2306.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333288635590891010" border="0" /></a>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.Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-67046377179244878592009-04-13T20:52:00.000-07:002009-04-15T07:10:37.686-07:00Macaron Madness<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkEklCZI5XvomImU1bJgZLToG_yrUDzWRlupGYsA9VjVWCUuirDMSnvWm87ik3HL8hGexCFJzn1IKvZxW7JJCJzsjdIvm0_XssoSK9b90FafsQcElVqStgoImBrgmX_wjXTrpw89hmL88/s1600-h/IMG_2247.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324746135305215906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 298px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkEklCZI5XvomImU1bJgZLToG_yrUDzWRlupGYsA9VjVWCUuirDMSnvWm87ik3HL8hGexCFJzn1IKvZxW7JJCJzsjdIvm0_XssoSK9b90FafsQcElVqStgoImBrgmX_wjXTrpw89hmL88/s320/IMG_2247.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">I've never been a fan of fancy baking. The thought of attempting anything involving poaching fruits, puff pastry, or yeast makes me break out in hives. For a long time, I justified my avoidance of such projects by deeming myself some sort of populist baker. Only cookies, brownies, and other such sweets of the masses! But of course, some part of me was just afraid.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">So when I received an invitation to prepare dessert for a fancy pre-Easter shindig, I was a bit nervous when deciding exactly what to make. The party hosts are, in my mind, culinary hard-hitters; after a meal of gratins, leek salad, puff pastry appetizer tarts, and the most delicious beef tenderloin I would ever eat, chocolate chip cookies just wouldn't do. It was only logical, then, that I venture into the netherworld of fussy, fancy baking.<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65cmraxD2NOtel0YJgNFsVP6Jt9enzgC0hpSwktpxzOjxy9buU3YmzMVfM6OsCbhhTC-oT1aAOFJBpcwoqkpcnmlk69HDQbw2Abhmv_AWgfBhMSA410Gqlki0vKJPk9MgM0bEgeFqKiw/s1600-h/IMG_2241.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324773750470776018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65cmraxD2NOtel0YJgNFsVP6Jt9enzgC0hpSwktpxzOjxy9buU3YmzMVfM6OsCbhhTC-oT1aAOFJBpcwoqkpcnmlk69HDQbw2Abhmv_AWgfBhMSA410Gqlki0vKJPk9MgM0bEgeFqKiw/s200/IMG_2241.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">L</span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">uckily, I didn't have to strike forth into the beyond unarmed; I had my love of the Rocky movies to protect me. For some reason, I find strength in deeming each of the major challenges in my life as my new Ivan Drago -- dreaded enemy of the Italian Stallion and free market economies, as depicted in Rocky IV. And so, I embarked upon my own dessert training montage, filled with powdered sugar, ground almonds, and meringues that failed in ways heretofore unknown to mankind. But two weeks, 9 batches of macaron shells, and one test cake later, I found myself face-to-face with my dessert destiny. Here's what I managed to produce:</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj59da42uvr2GmYgnMWYwIvfWBENwvUA0KyyA0pB-CuTmibTSYTepmQR98nmbAZsuMYMhugWzO-yYWxPm1VQZ6F7zZYWrZVlBX9fHQ69yf3aOTEnQyjJYW0hEp2EdfzIejOoR_DoVEJ8J8/s1600-h/IMG_2246.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324774882634944978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 224px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj59da42uvr2GmYgnMWYwIvfWBENwvUA0KyyA0pB-CuTmibTSYTepmQR98nmbAZsuMYMhugWzO-yYWxPm1VQZ6F7zZYWrZVlBX9fHQ69yf3aOTEnQyjJYW0hEp2EdfzIejOoR_DoVEJ8J8/s320/IMG_2246.JPG" border="0" /></a><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.dessertsmag.com/desserts-magazine/issue2/#/42/">Plain macaron shells</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> with </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.joythebaker.com/blog/2009/03/carrot-cake-cupcakes-with-dulce-de-leche-buttercream/">dulce de leche buttercream</a> <span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><br />Purple macaron shells with </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://cannelle-vanille.blogspot.com/2009/01/strawberries-and-vanilla-bean.html">white chocolate vanilla ganache</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> and a bit of raspberry jam</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Pink macaron shells with strawberry buttercream</span> <span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><br />Coffee macaron shells filled with bittersweet espresso ganache<br /></span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Green </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://tartelette.blogspot.com/2007/08/pistachio-macaronsa-family-affair.html">pistachio macaron shells</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> filled with </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://dishingupdelights.blogspot.com/2009/01/macarons-with-vanilla-bean-honey.html">vanilla honey buttercream</a> <span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><br />One </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://pipedreampastries.blogspot.com/2008/04/lemon-curd-cake.html">l</a><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://pipedreampastries.blogspot.com/2008/04/lemon-curd-cake.html">emon curd cake</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> with fresh strawberries</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">One lemon curd cake with fresh raspberries </span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Don't begin to be impressed -- each had the</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7w_65LlwY2An3XBv4mpUE6hxoDKpPVPlQNiskyKDmmRs6Ye7EQIkVPinKZbcdiy8nwPD0VeQyzaMEItWnyAM9HA7vuEuzVTX3WCFmwiAIMAX3wSsCrdRyUWdT5d0Ixas-IRXMkBunEM0/s1600-h/IMG_2237.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324749103705837490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 141px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7w_65LlwY2An3XBv4mpUE6hxoDKpPVPlQNiskyKDmmRs6Ye7EQIkVPinKZbcdiy8nwPD0VeQyzaMEItWnyAM9HA7vuEuzVTX3WCFmwiAIMAX3wSsCrdRyUWdT5d0Ixas-IRXMkBunEM0/s200/IMG_2237.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">ir own flaws. But I beli</span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">eve this </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">trial by </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">fire did leave me a better person, if not a flawless pastry chef. After all, when I started out, I was petrified of failure. And now that he and I have become better acquainted (</span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0); FONT-STYLE: italic">much</span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> better acquainted), I'm not afraid anymore. So if you've ever been frightened by an equally potentially disastrous situation in the past, make sure to face it head-on -- no matter how counterinuitive it may seem. Because if I can change, you can change. We can all change.</span><br /><div style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"><br /><br /></div><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"></span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-36156882199051496042009-03-24T19:52:00.000-07:002009-03-24T20:22:26.393-07:00Macarons: My First Attempts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViiIrS-uDosuoG1pV14J5SGSz_-Oz86wOnSMKgZACT8yUFQZxi0ZGZRnJZIuoRyrtfSXRuSG8c7DT8oSX6MeJ9gb9wOtsJwZpLij4BZfMkxrC1-VcvToGqcoNEDLB0As_PVDMEqY25VQ/s1600-h/IMG_2177.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjViiIrS-uDosuoG1pV14J5SGSz_-Oz86wOnSMKgZACT8yUFQZxi0ZGZRnJZIuoRyrtfSXRuSG8c7DT8oSX6MeJ9gb9wOtsJwZpLij4BZfMkxrC1-VcvToGqcoNEDLB0As_PVDMEqY25VQ/s320/IMG_2177.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316960098626741298" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">When I find that I have gotten in over my head on a particular adventure, baking or otherwise, I recall the first day when I realized the important difference between theory and practice. Both my grandfathers were gardeners, so growing up, I took special pride in the beautiful roses we had lining our driveway. And as anyone who's grown roses will know, aphids are their number one enemy. As Eric Carle so nicely described in his book, The Grouchy Ladybug, aphids are small green bugs that like to snack on roses and will ravage them, leaving them full of holes. But fear not -- ladybugs come to the rescue! Ladybugs eat aphids, and therefore are friends of the roses and the people who love them. Carle encourages people to appreciate the ladybugs who tend to the flowers, and I always did.</span><br /><br /><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" id=":11u" class="ii gt"> <div> </div> <div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2Nq4xqJS-xYAq2_WufTqs7gkN8_dsMd2rupnnigchGd69h9AxsXePgb4juBst7OxRoNZiUiS8fE_okpCS9QgwATeeeOnsLRnyRjVXvT3ciZls2Q26MOQ28ioS71a6x4QiaLlaIsFZUo/s1600-h/IMG_2176.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2Nq4xqJS-xYAq2_WufTqs7gkN8_dsMd2rupnnigchGd69h9AxsXePgb4juBst7OxRoNZiUiS8fE_okpCS9QgwATeeeOnsLRnyRjVXvT3ciZls2Q26MOQ28ioS71a6x4QiaLlaIsFZUo/s200/IMG_2176.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316955013756744930" border="0" /></a>One day, when my family sought to address the too-thriving aphid community that had settled in on our rose bushes, we took a trip to a nursery and bought a container of ladybugs. Live ones. There was a layer of mesh at the top of the container to allow them to breathe, and as my fat little kid hands held onto that cylinder of floral salvation, I could hardly believe that there were really hundreds of hungry creatures inside readying themselves for the greatest feast of their ladybug lives.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7IQnis6N0ZuVJvOWJAl_cgB_7EciVHMmkBiUAnUIi7NChrzl84_5ZzHbYdPMaiPWEcZspU2A8O-tOeL7600jWqyS9JN87exawDR6H2ThvUpKQU8a4ZB-c5HR5tbQ19xj6StH9CJ5VbQ/s1600-h/IMG_2199.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7IQnis6N0ZuVJvOWJAl_cgB_7EciVHMmkBiUAnUIi7NChrzl84_5ZzHbYdPMaiPWEcZspU2A8O-tOeL7600jWqyS9JN87exawDR6H2ThvUpKQU8a4ZB-c5HR5tbQ19xj6StH9CJ5VbQ/s200/IMG_2199.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316955760608532530" border="0" /></a>When we finally arrived back at the house (the anticipation was killing me!), we stood right by the rose bushes and let out a gasp of awe as we opened the lid. Slowly at first, and then in droves, the ladybugs shook themselves free and streamed out of the container. The only problem was that most of them were so happy to be free, they simply flew away. I had imagined our rose bushes covered in grateful ladybugs eager to demonstrate their allegiance by chowing down on the aphids, but alas! Most of them hung out on the side of the house or decided to visit the neighbors down the street. The difference between theory and practice. But to me, it was still worth it just to see all those ladybugs.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy8DLSjph5-T7gUrnDDOyYtk6XH1MrseAgJ7E43ZrXal3CvVbSDTC5H6yf2elioX_IHM8fK16UVdemZGq9FamgQ_BQCb0ig21IJPUFOgkN3r5d7Gv2LY-_RFlnTJm5-5cwjpf1Fh3LNVo/s1600-h/IMG_2201.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy8DLSjph5-T7gUrnDDOyYtk6XH1MrseAgJ7E43ZrXal3CvVbSDTC5H6yf2elioX_IHM8fK16UVdemZGq9FamgQ_BQCb0ig21IJPUFOgkN3r5d7Gv2LY-_RFlnTJm5-5cwjpf1Fh3LNVo/s200/IMG_2201.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316960393428875186" border="0" /></a>And now that I'm old enough to know better, I still find myself elbow-deep in similarly overwhelming situations from time to time. In this case, French macarons are my can full of ladybugs. In the last few months, I've made a few attempts (at least 5, 2 of them in one night), and none have been 100 % successful. But for now, I'm just trying to keep at it. Because when all is said and done, I just know I will end up with perfect, tasty <a href="http://www.dessertsmag.com/desserts-magazine/issue2/#/36/">macarons</a> -- and those, in my opinion, are even better than roses.</div> </div>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-1827735342860859422009-02-23T19:29:00.000-08:002009-02-23T20:32:55.018-08:00Coconut Thins<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjET1GuCC47QnPuz4eRsl2BjD1a1qrF4opMXcrSHXTQm9BOgO7ReQ4q9-fXP61MbaVxHh5X0kboL1F8wuo4W6QS39C9ZcWK4cKa8wc_bwzSY5LE072kwTWRMAR_nRnrJ4oBCQqRlyZgk/s1600-h/IMG_2057.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFjET1GuCC47QnPuz4eRsl2BjD1a1qrF4opMXcrSHXTQm9BOgO7ReQ4q9-fXP61MbaVxHh5X0kboL1F8wuo4W6QS39C9ZcWK4cKa8wc_bwzSY5LE072kwTWRMAR_nRnrJ4oBCQqRlyZgk/s320/IMG_2057.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306212832282160962" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">For reasons I cannot begin to explain, I have always been an early riser. I have several memories from when I was very young of being up at 6 am, before the good cartoons were on and long before my sister (with whom I shared a room) would be active. So I would sit on the floor, reading by the scant rays cast from the nightlight, until the rest of the world came to life. And to think, I was surprised when I found I needed to get glasses!</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKA3tdujwSXYH52ONf9nGCYGnaarMWMUQoYfKYFuA1KnZmGrsqYC_ylr6-HBcoZPFpHWbeykCNFANuzZ_shORJa-g5_DLCewR9G0e-pFRFIHnjWQ4a6Nc6zxWahGevhVPHHiGrhyphenhyphenCIPME/s1600-h/IMG_2039.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKA3tdujwSXYH52ONf9nGCYGnaarMWMUQoYfKYFuA1KnZmGrsqYC_ylr6-HBcoZPFpHWbeykCNFANuzZ_shORJa-g5_DLCewR9G0e-pFRFIHnjWQ4a6Nc6zxWahGevhVPHHiGrhyphenhyphenCIPME/s200/IMG_2039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306213167743227442" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">At the time, I felt there was no reason for me to have such a natural inclination to be awake when everyone else was still pulling the covers over their heads to keep the sunlight out. Perhaps waking early as an adult had its advantages, but as a kid, it seemed mostly to be a curse. That is, until the day I was vindicated by a cold, hard truth of baking: if you want to buy the freshest, most delicious goods, you need to be the first one through the bakery door. You don't have to have ever baked in your life to know the difference between a donut bought and eaten and 8 a.m. versus one attained in the afternoon -- or worse, one bought in the morning and sitting in the open air in the pink bakery box with the lid ajar.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And suddenly, life was clear. Lucky for me, my parents are both fairly early risers (and definite breakfast enthusiasts), and soon a world of donuts, bagels, and other baked morning delights revealed itself to me. I often think that there are few greater joys than being in charge of the tongs as you load piece upon piece of fresh, fragrant pan dulce onto the metal tray being held by an accommodating parent -- or, as you get older, significant other. Or anyone willing to put up with the task.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEY-ysvKIW5e2aKZHCkj7sIlHPTFGktK23WIOVAIVryH8wx9Keb4ZRJJ2KEYXeBJ963CU87FupqQb71MtbY2CDxqwBNTTn5nqxu550ZsmsRUak3PU_WgVSniW3jjj1TUtB3T6ovN_D0g/s1600-h/IMG_2051.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaEY-ysvKIW5e2aKZHCkj7sIlHPTFGktK23WIOVAIVryH8wx9Keb4ZRJJ2KEYXeBJ963CU87FupqQb71MtbY2CDxqwBNTTn5nqxu550ZsmsRUak3PU_WgVSniW3jjj1TUtB3T6ovN_D0g/s320/IMG_2051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306214195222074946" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So perhaps being up with the sun wasn't so bad after all. Nowadays, I take advantage of the time even further, and set out a few sticks of butter to rest and begin to soften as I go about my breakfasting and other chores. By late morning, my ingredients are all ready for me to begin concocting baked goods of my own, and the coconut cookies highlighted below were the product of one such recent venture. They are light and buttery, with the coconut flavor as more of a hint to your tastebuds as opposed to a frank statement. If you're a coconut fan, I would recommend remedying this subtlety by adding 1 tsp of coconut extract, and/or toasting the coconut a bit before using it. All in all though, a delicious product of an "oh-dark-thirty" investment.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">But if you yourself are not an early riser, don't despair. Waking up at obscene hours every day, or even every weekend day, may not be worth it for everyone. Just once in a while, when you're really seeking something special to make leaving your bed worth it, design upon your favorite breakfast bakery and set an alarm. Because I don't care what Benjamin Franklin says -- in my book, "Early to bed and early to rise... yields both tasty donuts and bags 'neath your eyes."<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Coconut Thins</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Adapted from Cook's Illustrated "Cookies" Magazine (called Coconut Sables there, but I didn't think the name quite fit for what the recipe produced)</span> <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />Yields about 80 2-inch cookies</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Ingredients:<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 1/2 oz (2/3 cup) finely ground almonds</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 1/2 oz (1 cup) unsweetened shredded coconut (can be found at Whole Foods and other health stores)</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />10 oz. (2 1/4 cups) all-purpose flour</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">10 oz.<br />(20 TBS) unsalted butter, softened at room temperature</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />5 oz. (1 1/3 cups) confectioners' sugar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 tsp. vanilla</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 tsp table salt</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 large egg, at room temperature</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />Directions:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. In a medium bowl, blend the almonds, coconut, and flour; set aside. </span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />2. Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or in a large bowl with a hand mixer), beat the butter on medium speed until soft and creamy. Add the contectioners' sugar and salt; mix on medium-low speed until thoroughly combined, about 5 minutes, scraping down the bowl as needed.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />3. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the egg and the vanilla; mix until incorporated. </span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />4. Turn off the mixer and switch to using a wooden spoon to slowly add the flour mixture (in three parts) and mix until the dough just comes together.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />5. Portion the dough into three equal pieces. Roll each piece between two sheets of wax paper to about 1/8 inch think. Transfer the dough, still between the parchment, to baking sheets and chill in the freezer for about 30 minutes.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">6. Heat the oven to 375 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. When the dough is quite firm, peel off the top sheet of wax paper and cut out shapes with a cookie cutter. Lay the cookies 1/2 inch apart on the parchment-lined baking sheet. Reroll the scraps, chilling first if necessary.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />7. Bake the cookies, one tray at a time on a rack in the center of the oven, until light and golden around the edges (8-10 minutes), rotating the sheet halfway through. Let stand on the baking sheet until cool enough to handle (about 10 minutes) and then transfer the cookies to a rack to finish cooling.</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-23404253501159156672009-02-12T18:57:00.000-08:002009-02-12T20:57:50.705-08:00Chocolate-Dipped Espresso Shortbread<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAw8NaW5hOUcGHngkk9XMmkjV1d_1cqhifb2KIXJMERSEiZENOyFJkfj01G1yZTr9w-rcBC5ABRuI4miXwlUOpK9G0XPQhmik9kvQMqLQ5kIBajx8dKIO_moeeUGgVb_rZlaYcezBSdbc/s1600-h/IMG_1984.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAw8NaW5hOUcGHngkk9XMmkjV1d_1cqhifb2KIXJMERSEiZENOyFJkfj01G1yZTr9w-rcBC5ABRuI4miXwlUOpK9G0XPQhmik9kvQMqLQ5kIBajx8dKIO_moeeUGgVb_rZlaYcezBSdbc/s320/IMG_1984.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302136969287020818" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">There are many epic mysteries floating around the universe when you're very young. Why do grown-ups think that by spelling out a word, I'm not going to know what it means? Why does everyone hate politicians? But perhaps the most fascinating question of all for little me was this: How can any adult possibly be unhappy, with all the mail they receive?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Every day I would come home and empty the mailbox and place what seemed to be an enormous stack of envelopes on the table, all addressed to my parents, and sigh with envy. How popular they must be! And even when my dad explained that most of it was junk and bills, some part of me didn't believe that any mail could be a source of stress rather than joy. </span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_3vGIT60U_eqRbmSu90rMqUHxHOTu5C5zCQnlLURAR_5sRN1GFDOVuLPL4ba2KH0MVCyIwQmt9iqSLHeIUdgjkrcjkSGKOhwiy39mxB_oftxmhVYKr2CIQQXpYPEy4oHqfIpC-jv_bq0/s1600-h/IMG_1957.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_3vGIT60U_eqRbmSu90rMqUHxHOTu5C5zCQnlLURAR_5sRN1GFDOVuLPL4ba2KH0MVCyIwQmt9iqSLHeIUdgjkrcjkSGKOhwiy39mxB_oftxmhVYKr2CIQQXpYPEy4oHqfIpC-jv_bq0/s200/IMG_1957.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302137207283334354" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The foundation of this misconception was, of course, the Valentine's day ritual where each of us were required to assemble small makeshift mailboxes to place on our desks to house all the wonderful Valentines. Sure, you ended up with an assortment of storebought pieces of cardboard with various pop culture emblems on them, but sometimes people wrote personal notes! And even better than knowing that I was nice, good at math, or shared my lunch with people .... was getting those envelopes with a bulge in them for the candy stuffed in!</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia8dfXaFwP6DeFt-FraFZsz8dJgl8ppBPczbJDiJY5GXlvP-S6olxt66o7hl7_B4AJKiHFvTWa1IVnN0tsCPGEQajHyHgAt3T6QFaZVN6f6aoxfrT10uSmfmW2YhzvXF5NXGoM_S64vaM/s1600-h/IMG_1979.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia8dfXaFwP6DeFt-FraFZsz8dJgl8ppBPczbJDiJY5GXlvP-S6olxt66o7hl7_B4AJKiHFvTWa1IVnN0tsCPGEQajHyHgAt3T6QFaZVN6f6aoxfrT10uSmfmW2YhzvXF5NXGoM_S64vaM/s320/IMG_1979.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302137451452508994" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So for those of you who appreciated the Valentine sweets as much as I did, below are two Valentine cookie recipes. May everyone get much love -- and much mail!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The recipe for the sugar cookies can be found </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://joyofbaking.com/ValentinesSugarCookie.html">here</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> -- I simply replaced one of the tsp of vanilla with lemon extract and added the zest of one lemon. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Chocolate-Dipped Espresso Shortbread<br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> Adapted from Cook's Illustrated Cookie magazine</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yields about 4 dozen small heart-shaped cookies</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">For the cookies:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 lb (1 cup) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 cup granulated sugar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 tsp. table salt</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">10 oz (2 1/4 cups) all-purpose flour</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 TBS espresso powder</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 tsp vanilla extract</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Directions:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Preheat oven to 300 degrees F and place one rack in the middle of the oven.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. In a large bowl, place the flour and the espresso powder and combine using a wire whisk. Set aside.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2. Using a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment (or in a large bowl with a hand mixer), combine the butter, sugar, and salt on low speed until the butter combines with the sugar but isn't perfectly smooth, 1 to 2 minutes. Add in the vanilla extract and combine briefly.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3. Add the flour and espresso powder mixture to the wet ingredients in 3 parts, stirring until just combined using a wooden spoon -- do not overmix.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">4. On a lightly floured surface or a large piece of wax paper, knead the dough once or twice to bring together. Using a lightly floured rolling pin, roll the dough to be about 1/4-inch thick, turning the dough occasionally to ensure it does not stick to the surface.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">5. Use a cookie cutter (lightly floured, if necessary) to cut the dough into shapes and place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, ~ 2 inches apart or slightly less, depending on the size of your cutouts. Make sure to use only one sized cutter for one baking sheet full of cookies to ensure even baking.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">6. Bake the cookies until golden on the bottom and edges and pale to golden on top, 20-30 minutes to an hour (I did my first check at 10, to rotate the pan -- this may vary for you depending on the oven). These cookies are done when the tops look dry and the color has darkened slightly. Follow the same rolling, cutting, and baking procedure for the rest of the dough and place cookies on racks to cool.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">7. Once the cookies have cooled, set a sheet of parchment or waxed paper on a work surface. Put the chocolate and shortening in a small heatproof bowl and set the bowl over a pan of simmering water. Melt the chocolate, stirring, until it's smooth.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">8. Dip half of each cookie into the chocolate. Set the cookies on the parchment and let the chocolate set up at room temperature, about 2 hours (do not skimp on this time or you will have a Valentine mess!)</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-3990075615792798662009-01-27T19:13:00.000-08:002009-01-27T20:24:33.736-08:00Vanilla-Maple Butter Cookies<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dk4Q3FVo8x7MRD0obsNALIQiiKkEIUvgqXXN12kzIvdJhyphenhyphen8ZRkmGA0oK-3xgLXmaYuZ_bULlvYpfeTX6YRRvsHsMsKXicOHDzKhHH3e85SIAHZIglx3K22Ef5l1eHVSKMWCPybpQrTU/s1600-h/IMG_1922.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dk4Q3FVo8x7MRD0obsNALIQiiKkEIUvgqXXN12kzIvdJhyphenhyphen8ZRkmGA0oK-3xgLXmaYuZ_bULlvYpfeTX6YRRvsHsMsKXicOHDzKhHH3e85SIAHZIglx3K22Ef5l1eHVSKMWCPybpQrTU/s320/IMG_1922.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296192633492453490" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">When great chefs are interviewed, they often recall that as children, they were always helping out in the kitchen. They wanted to learn, experiment, and become familiar with that mysterious act of creating good food from everyday ingredients. It is then telling that when I was a child, I had little to no desire to learn to cook. I was a bit more interested in being a part of the baking process, but even then I'd mostly stir something for two minutes and then get tired of it and revert back to my default "Call me when it's done" self.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yes, I confess, I have few memories of actively wanting to bake when I was very young. I do, however, distinctly recall every mention of a baked good in the books I read. Those were always my favorite parts of the stories, and twenty-some years later, they're pretty much all I remember. In Frances Hodgson Burnett's "A Little Princess," I got my greatest thrill when the poor protagonist finds some money in the street and uses it to buy fresh, sweet rolls from a bakery nearby, only to give them to a little homeless girl (now that's willpower!). In "Curious George Flies a Kite," I remember absolutely nothing of the kite-flying -- instead, I remember being furious when George decides to go fishing and uses pieces of chocolate cake for bait. What a waste of cake!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBxXZ6vR7vnXJ3cRbSC6Cat7DCnXl2nqgzYMrI4ukD7vbDeceh-Laserhe7SRM7n0IGy_reFGtLu3s4Ri0VtPVJpqYXnKlpGcflBCcKtxPfY6qbptfyyb1l4Ta6Kbtpcvj5DITcHPUMw/s1600-h/IMG_1908.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnBxXZ6vR7vnXJ3cRbSC6Cat7DCnXl2nqgzYMrI4ukD7vbDeceh-Laserhe7SRM7n0IGy_reFGtLu3s4Ri0VtPVJpqYXnKlpGcflBCcKtxPfY6qbptfyyb1l4Ta6Kbtpcvj5DITcHPUMw/s200/IMG_1908.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296193131426260498" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Perhaps the most well-known baked-sweet story to people of my age was, of course, "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie." Although I loved the circuitous tale of the very demanding rodent who inexplicably wears very tiny suspenders, some part of me would have been perfectly content if the story were shorter and more realistic. Now, when I say "realistic," I do not mean something like, "If you give a mouse a cookie...... he is going to bring in one thousand of his friends and relations and eat you out of house and home." No, I was never that logical. But from time to time, I'd let my brain wander and imagine how the story would unfold if I had written it my way -- though I could never quite decide how it would end.</span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3aK1iGcWp8B6rzFCiEKQnRthOAGwsz1msczvy1J0yl1eJRHhGvZ1i5-kGXXDsFB3mhjdJYOgaoGaiz1D9sGSYgzYyHQTFzxtFmbr5dkRUMt2FvSodD3TrDEHHqTFfVls8P8fG-LhBko/s1600-h/IMG_1929.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3aK1iGcWp8B6rzFCiEKQnRthOAGwsz1msczvy1J0yl1eJRHhGvZ1i5-kGXXDsFB3mhjdJYOgaoGaiz1D9sGSYgzYyHQTFzxtFmbr5dkRUMt2FvSodD3TrDEHHqTFfVls8P8fG-LhBko/s320/IMG_1929.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296195156326641458" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So although I was not kitchen-precocious, it seems that my love for baking has always existed, even before I was aware of it. More often than not, when I'm quiet and put on my thinking face, I'm pondering what sort of things I can bake in the few hours I have between coming home from work and going to bed. Or, as in the recipe below, wondering how to transform the memory of a delicious ice cream cone enjoyed in Quebec (vanilla ice cream with swirls of maple in a chocolate-dipped cone with nuts) into a cookie. I ended up deciding to omit the chocolate, for fear that it would dominate the delicate caramelized flavor of the cookie, and I think it was the right choice. The resulting cookie is extraordinarily buttery and, when baked until just golden, delightfully crisp. Perfect for accompanying milk, vanilla ice cream, tea, or just plain.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The young me probably would have scoffed at the idea of </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">eating</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> a maple cookie (unless there was a pancake cookie to accompany it), and would almost certainly have scoffed at the idea of spending time to </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">make</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> one. But that's one of the joys of growing up -- things that were once fuzzy become clear. Because now that I'm older, I have finally figured out how the story would have played out if I had written it. It would've gone something like this:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">"If you give a mouse a cookie .... he will live happily ever after."</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">[The End]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Vanilla-Maple Butter Cookies</span><br /><br />Adapted from Alice Medrich's butter cookie recipe in her book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Alice-Medrichs-Cookies-Brownies-Medrich/dp/044667818X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1233114823&sr=1-1">"Cookies and Brownies"</a><br /><br />Ingredients:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyqN4McnHhbLTVjEphyphenhyphen3_9w6JXrYyWtmqQxwKczh0zS0zCnhxYFGz03bee96gdVNZxmISVE1VGjnS_mwdDBn65KjZcKBX8j_qQaU24qhQPRDk6WsZGvX3e6v6gCDCiuwkakW-3YUJUR8/s1600-h/IMG_1914.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyqN4McnHhbLTVjEphyphenhyphen3_9w6JXrYyWtmqQxwKczh0zS0zCnhxYFGz03bee96gdVNZxmISVE1VGjnS_mwdDBn65KjZcKBX8j_qQaU24qhQPRDk6WsZGvX3e6v6gCDCiuwkakW-3YUJUR8/s200/IMG_1914.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296194789377071234" border="0" /></a>16 TBS unsalted butter, softened<br />~ 1 1/8 cup <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maple_sugar">maple sugar</a> (pricey, but worth it -- can be found at Whole Foods Market)<br />3/4 cup pecans, chopped<br />the contents of 1 vanilla bean, scraped out with a sharp knife<br />1/2 tsp. salt<br />2 cups flour<br />a bit less than 1/4 cup large maple sugar granules (can also be found at Whole Foods -- not the chunks, just bigger than the fine-ground sugar)<br /><br />Directions:<br />1. In a large bowl, beat butter until smooth using wooden spoon.<br />2. Cream butter, maple sugar (the finely ground one, 1 1/8 cup), salt, and vanilla until smooth and creamy but not fluffy, using a wooden spoon.<br />3. In a separate medium-sized bowl, sift flour using a wire whisk. Add large maple sugar granules and pecan pieces, and mix further using the whisk.<br />4. In 3 parts, slowly combine the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients with the wooden spoon, until just incorporated. [This may take a bit of effort.]<br />5. On a clean surface or a large piece of plastic wrap, knead the dough a couple of times to make sure it's smooth and combined.<br />6. Divide the dough in half and shape each half into a round log, ~ 2 inches in diameter. Wrap each log separately in plastic wrap. Chill for at least 3 hours, preferably overnight.<br /><br />-- When you're soon going to be ready to bake --<br /><br />7. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. If you want a lighter cookie, bake ~12-14 minutes, or until light brown at the edges. If you want a more caramelized cookie, bake a few minutes longer, keeping a watchful eye to make sure they don't burn, until they turn a bit golden and your kitchen smells so mapley that you become convinced you've been magically transformed into a waffle.<br /><br />Yield: ~ 40 cookiesNorahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-40630773415996013652009-01-21T18:51:00.000-08:002009-01-22T11:10:39.380-08:00Orange Hazelnut Biscotti<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7B6fh0TPOt6p8iHzbZeyiJN-Rq02R5IrpUp_USNfclJRcIMXd95L2VcM3LXEzQ2UFlyDafLh6Hvck_4ewK8NAEcJ7V2yWsPupxXjjKsOMWu76Z0r2d-q0Ss6eeqjoOJHocQ1RM1PohEo/s1600-h/IMG_1898.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293956355244205538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7B6fh0TPOt6p8iHzbZeyiJN-Rq02R5IrpUp_USNfclJRcIMXd95L2VcM3LXEzQ2UFlyDafLh6Hvck_4ewK8NAEcJ7V2yWsPupxXjjKsOMWu76Z0r2d-q0Ss6eeqjoOJHocQ1RM1PohEo/s320/IMG_1898.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">There are two kinds of picky eaters. The first kind will give most anything a try, but will only enjoy a very small percentage of tastes and textures. Sometimes they can help it, sometimes they can't -- genetics often makes people predisposed to disliking sweeping categories of food, such as with the elusive Supertaster. But whatever the reason, hey, at least they tried.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">The second kind of picky eater, however, can definitely help it. People might call them picky, but the truth is, they just won't try anything that doesn't appeal to them. Sometimes it's the visual cues, sometimes it's the smell, and occasionally it's even post-traumatic food disorder when you once tried something that looked good but turned out to be awful (flashback to me being 6 years old and biting into a piece of radish in a salad that I mistook for an apple). The details vary, but the general idea is always the same -- some part of you is afraid. And unless you're prone to food allergies, it's usually without reason.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">This is all a preface to the admission that I was, of course, a picky eater -- the second (and in my opinion, worst) kind. I had numerous rules, which were entirely self-created, since my parents and sister were adventurous eaters and the food we enjoyed both inside and outside the house was quite varied. Rule number one: nothing green. I cringe thinking of my faithful execution of this rule, including the way I would avoid the floating chopped scallion in Chinese noodle soup dishes that I realize today gives it extra flavor. Rule number two: nothing with a funny texture. Mushrooms were out of the question, and for years I would only eat the outside of steamed chiasiu bau and never touch the sweet, delicious pork inside. Rule number three: nothing that resembles something I already know I dislike.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Zw0VWIA5gv78BfyqgAZv8RVnCqolJeOGF3DBSQSCdDwy9oyHN33QiP8Nm46EsfaygbGEFE699PGgmh6ybnib60xz2wbZ-ihZEkPFOXuvJAmQIvcSkmkiHNVLKSb9UIGPjcbF_QeTIwU/s1600-h/IMG_1894.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293957038353246194" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Zw0VWIA5gv78BfyqgAZv8RVnCqolJeOGF3DBSQSCdDwy9oyHN33QiP8Nm46EsfaygbGEFE699PGgmh6ybnib60xz2wbZ-ihZEkPFOXuvJAmQIvcSkmkiHNVLKSb9UIGPjcbF_QeTIwU/s200/IMG_1894.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">It was because of this last fateful rule that poor hazelnuts got a bad rap in my twisted little brain. If you'd asked me what I didn't like about the taste, I couldn't tell you because I'd never try them -- but they closely resembled garbanzo beans in color and shape. So ix-nay on the azelnuts-hay.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Looking back now, I'm happy to say I grew out of all that nonsense. I suspect, however, that if I'd had a taste of these Orange Hazelnut Biscotti, my whole world view would've changed -- I could've skipped through that whole stupid picky phase.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">This is the result of clever juxtaposition of several recipes, thanks to my mom. The recipe yields a crunchy, slightly crumbly texture (which I love, but just reduce the amount of hazelnut meal if you don't like it that way) and a delicious citrusy flavor on the nutty-but-not-bitter hazelnut backdrop. My mom drizzles them with melted semi-sweet chocolate, but I actually enjoy them plain.</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Orange Hazelnut Biscotti</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">2 cups whole hazelnuts, roasted and skins rubbed off</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">½ cup </span><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">additional </span><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">whole hazelnuts, roasted and skins rubbed off</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">2 1/2 cups flour</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1/8 teaspoon salt</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">2/3 cups unsalted butter, slightly softened</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1 cup granulated sugar</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">3 eggs</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">¼ teaspoon vanilla extract</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1-1/2 teaspoons orange extract</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1 tablespoon grated orange peel</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">2 squares semi-sweet chocolate for drizzling, if you so choose</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Directions:</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Preheat oven to 375 degrees.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Take 2 TBS of the 1 cup sugar, and combine it with the separated 1/2 cup of hazelnuts in a food processor. Process on the pulse setting until you've got hazelnut meal -- the nuts should be ground very small, but not so small as to be the consistency of dust. Be careful not to overpulse, or you may end up with hazelnut butter.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Combine flour, the newly created hazelnut meal, baking powder and salt. Set aside.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">In a separate bowl combine butter and sugar (the 1 cup minus 2 TBS). Beat until well blended. Add eggs, orange peel, orange extract and vanilla and beat until light and fluffy.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Gradually beat in half of dry ingredients. Stir in remaining flour mixture. Add nuts.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Divide dough in half. Shape each half into a log about 11 inches long and 2 inches in diameter. (Easier to shape by rolling in wax paper and rolling directly onto baking sheet.)</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Place logs on greased baking sheet (or baking sheet lined with parchment paper) as far apart as possible. Flatten slightly.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Bake for 25 to 28 minutes. Let stand until completely cool (about 30 minutes). Cut logs diagonally into half-inch slices using sharp knife.</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Lay slices flat on baking sheet and return to oven and toast for 5 to 7 minutes. Turn over slices and bake 4 to 5 minutes on second side, cooking for additional time as needed (you'll need to play this by ear -- just make sure they're not raw in the middle). Cool on wire racks.</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-23681893387855119332008-12-20T13:51:00.000-08:002008-12-20T13:53:48.536-08:00Hazelnut Mocha Cookies<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyoQRQdUqu48SDfHJsrHhrRH4pgWfo41df1eXxVpE0LCHHfvpnBB_UPU9KFnjrdbp9pneuCIKKjKjOvFQti3gOuhmARcVxR5dyn-v1FklKvTelIiLGkIb-FapINZi3EeD4exJF3ylmNs0/s1600-h/mocha+hazelnut+vertical+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyoQRQdUqu48SDfHJsrHhrRH4pgWfo41df1eXxVpE0LCHHfvpnBB_UPU9KFnjrdbp9pneuCIKKjKjOvFQti3gOuhmARcVxR5dyn-v1FklKvTelIiLGkIb-FapINZi3EeD4exJF3ylmNs0/s320/mocha+hazelnut+vertical+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281992639088384130" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Sometimes I feel that the world of baking has gotten out of control. In search of something new and exciting, increasingly more magazines, cookbooks, and yes, even blogs, have been showcasing excessively "decadent" (read: overdone) dessert recipes. I love a bit of indulgence just as much as the next person, but when I'm beseiged by a horde of Triple Chocolate Caramel Fudge monstrosities, my taste buds shrink in fear.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">There's an entire new genre of such baked goods, whose descriptions seem the baking equivalent to letting 4-year-olds pick their own names. Only instead of a world of Princess Rainbow Unicorns and Optimus Michaelangelo Squarepants (forgive the gendered examples), you're left with Banana Berry Brownie Pizza and Coconut Marshmallow Cream Meringue Pie.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So when I glanced at the many varied ingredients for these cookies, I was instantly suspicious. Peanut butter, espresso powder, chocolate, oats, AND hazelnuts? But I was surprised to find that it all came together very nicely in a large, chewy cookie with the air of a regular chocolate chip cookie who just returned after hitchhiking through Western Europe -- simultaneously more worldly (the espresso powder and hazelnuts) and more down-to-earth (the peanut butter and whole wheat flour). I can't quite explain it, but if you're looking for a tasty cookie that doesn't blast your brains out with sweetness, give this a try.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" ><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hazelnut Mocha Cookies</span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Adapted from Better Homes & Gardens' Christmas Cookies Magazine, 2008</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Ingredients:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 TBS instant espresso powder</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 TBS water</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 1/2 cups smooth peanut butter</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 cup butter, softened</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 1/2 cups brown sugar, packed</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 1/2 tsp baking soda</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/4 tsp salt</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 eggs</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 1/8 tsp vanilla</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 1/2 cups regular rolled oats (I use old-fashioned)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 cup whole wheat flour</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 cup dark chocolate pieces (I use ~5 oz chopped bittersweet chocolate)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 cup hazelnuts, toasted and chopped</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">To toast hazelnuts</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees, F. Spread nuts in a single layer in a shallow baking pan (or on a baking sheet lined with foil).</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2. Bake nuts for ~10 minutes (or ~14, if the nuts were stored in the freezer), stirring once.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3. Place the warm nuts on a clean kitchen towel. Rub the nuts with the towel to remove the loose skins. Let cool and chop. Set aside.</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />To assemble and bake cookies:<br /></span></span></span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, F. In a small bowl, stir together espresso powder and the water until powder dissolves; set aside.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2. In a large bowl, combine butter and peanut butter with a wooden spoon until well mixed. Add brown sugar, baking soda, and salt. Beat until combined. Beat in eggs, vanilla, and espresso mixture until combined. Beat in oats. Beat in flour. Stir in chocolate pieces and hazelnuts.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3. Drop dough from a 1/4 cup measure (I roll it into balls), 3 inches apart onto an ungreased cookie sheet (line them with parchment paper for ease of clean-up); press each ball slightly.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">4. Bake for 13 to 15 minutes, or until edges are </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">lightly</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> browned. Be careful not to overbake. Cool on cookie sheet for ~2 minutes. Transfer cookies to a wire rack; let cool.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yield: ~24 mondo-large cookies.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">To store: Layer cookies between sheets of wax paper in an airtight container; cover. Store at room temperature or freeze for up to 3 months (and when you're ready to serve them, let them thaw on the counter for a few hours until they come to room temperature).</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-39652323808998749112008-12-14T20:14:00.000-08:002008-12-14T21:26:51.979-08:00Cookie Extravaganza, Part I: Finska Pinnar<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi94DCWAfNAm-ukCD0rZJiItDdKtdjT6IRxvTW8KBJRoeT05ke71AWygYsCtsNVAlFUcL3rzhERUKXwqylTmIbutnG0vVOREEzJqnafF8-x7ggNxfv1WKKeodt7gOow5RHT-BC2RhqEknU/s1600-h/IMG_1742.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi94DCWAfNAm-ukCD0rZJiItDdKtdjT6IRxvTW8KBJRoeT05ke71AWygYsCtsNVAlFUcL3rzhERUKXwqylTmIbutnG0vVOREEzJqnafF8-x7ggNxfv1WKKeodt7gOow5RHT-BC2RhqEknU/s320/IMG_1742.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279882114695940370" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Christmastime is a season of giving, of loving, and appreciating. But most of all, it is a season of baking cookies until you reach the point of collapse. Or at least, that's how it's always been at my house. Every year, the kitchen would transform into a cookie factory in the days leading up to the holiday. And while the baked sweets were of course delicious and exceptionally pretty, they were also a mechanism of extraordinary power. For everyone knows that the better your cookies are, the more Santa will recognize how good you've been.<br /></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">No one was more cognizant of this power than she who wielded it, the great Baker of Cookies and High Priestess of the Altar of the Claus. Or as we like to call her, Mom. One of my earliest Christmas memories was of being in kindergarten, executing a homework assignment to write a letter to Santa. These letters would presumably be sent to the North Pole upon completion, though how my teacher had an in with the big guy I never quite understood.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8H-f_JL1Cjr1TNE9jM2dKalxQlnmbkF0Cj4-MEnTSzqKa_AITq1xR7C61Xfjc60kus6bQbdeG0bVGDLv7zcFMicRjDsOJGdyBbWqEdrjG7KqM9Qo3sOf4JtECLqY8q25iarBYgoUIlxI/s1600-h/IMG_1738+vertical.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8H-f_JL1Cjr1TNE9jM2dKalxQlnmbkF0Cj4-MEnTSzqKa_AITq1xR7C61Xfjc60kus6bQbdeG0bVGDLv7zcFMicRjDsOJGdyBbWqEdrjG7KqM9Qo3sOf4JtECLqY8q25iarBYgoUIlxI/s200/IMG_1738+vertical.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279883233198359810" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So there I was, sitting at the table, writing on the scratchy-as-pure-wood-shavings recycled paper they give to 5 year-olds, and wondering what I wanted. I decided I wanted a pet snake (don't ask). I believe I was reading it to my mom as I was writing, indicating that for Christmas I would please like "a snake and snake food." After the slightly dismaying revelation that "snake food" consists of live rodentia, I was a little disgusted, but undeterred. Until Mom uttered the fatal words: "If Santa brings you a pet snake, I'm never baking him another cookie again." And suddenly -- poof! -- desire for a snake, gone!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I don't remember what it was I asked for instead, but I remember feeling no remorse, knowing that it was much better to pick one of the many other things that would make me happy than to jeopardize my standing up at the Pole. And now that I'm old enough to bake my own cookies (and old enough to know that a pet snake is a terrible idea for a kid as flighty as I was), I like to think of the delicate sugared butter cookies I make each year as both a bringer of joy and a bringer of peace. Joy to the kids I may someday have, who will hopefully (thanks to the cookies, of course) get what they want... and peace to me, should I ever need to wield my power if they ask for something similarly absurd/dangerous.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Cookie Summary:</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCViWzPV25k7Z2S5pBK-NAPGzZZaboAXbrTndJtFFIgPCcVc_PkNSnA0mb516TAjVSUwzPFSAHnmT4xx6ZlSbJ_-FvNWutFLH-1I9JpDsnAaG87e9VNxkinGWRVdApOYeTXoUnjHfvvDg/s1600-h/IMG_1746.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCViWzPV25k7Z2S5pBK-NAPGzZZaboAXbrTndJtFFIgPCcVc_PkNSnA0mb516TAjVSUwzPFSAHnmT4xx6ZlSbJ_-FvNWutFLH-1I9JpDsnAaG87e9VNxkinGWRVdApOYeTXoUnjHfvvDg/s200/IMG_1746.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279883626895620210" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">A butter cookie topped with crystal sugar, this recipe is simple and delicious. There are no leavening agents added, and although the dough calls for egg yolk only, the decoration makes use of the egg white so nothing goes to waste. They are labor-intensive, in that the dough needs to chill and that it's a bit hard to work with when first removed from the fridge. But their taste makes them a standard in my family every year, and I don't mind the trouble when I get to pop a few into my mouth as a reward.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >Finska Pinnar<br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Adapted from a recipe in the Los Angeles Times, with Mamafications</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yield: ~ 4 dozen small cookies</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Ingredients:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 lb. butter, softened (2 sticks)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 cup sugar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 egg, separated</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 tsp. vanilla extract</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 1/4 cups flour</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">coarse "pearl" sugar (I like </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://www.gapersblock.com/drivethru/IMG_0548.JPG">this kind</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">, which can be found at Ikea)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">crystal sugar of the colors of your choice</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Directions:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. In a large bowl, beat butter with a wooden spoon or mixer until creamy.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2. Beat in sugar and egg yolk (set egg white aside and refrigerate in a bowl, beneath plastic wrap). Add vanilla and mix in until combined.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3. Gradually work flour into the mixture to form a dough (I do it in about 3 or 4 parts).</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">4. Chill the dough for at least 2 hrs. Can be chilled up to 24 hours.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">When you're ready to roll the dough:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Set out: baking sheets, parchment paper, wax paper for your work surface, pearl sugar, colored sugar, reserved egg white, a pastry brush, spoon, butter knife, and a bowl or shallow dish with sides</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">5. Lay out wax paper on a work surface and line baking sheets with parchment paper. Use a regular teaspoon to carve out smaller pieces of the big chilled chunk of dough to make it easier to work with. Using a few bits at a time (a small handful), quickly soften the dough slightly by kneading it between your fingers and palms. Then roll dough into ropes about 1/2" in diameter (these can be long or short, but I find making longer ones speeds up the decorating process) on the wax paper. Do not flour your surface, or your cookies will become dry. Wax paper will prevent sticking.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">6. Set out the bowl or a shallow container with sides at least 1" high and mix a bit of the colored sugar with the pearl sugar. Use your discretion -- don't use all your colored and pearl sugar at once because they'll probably get dirtied with egg white.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">7. Using a butter knife, cut the dough ropes into lengths about 1" long (about the length of your thumb). Use a pastry brush dipped in the egg white and lightly brush the tops of each of the pieces.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">8. Before the egg white dries on the dough, dip each of the brushed pieces in the sugar mixture and place them on the lined baking sheet, with at least 1 " between them.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">9. Baking one sheet at a time, bake the cookies for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the ones on the edge of the pan are SLIGHTLY golden at the edges. IT IS VERY EASY TO BURN THESE, so if your oven tends to run hot, check them instead at 13 minutes first. A good rule of thumb is to judge the smell -- when your kitchen starts to smell like cookies, that's a sign you should start preparing your cooling racks.</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-14962416017145446182008-08-28T20:38:00.000-07:002008-08-28T20:57:47.588-07:00Quakers<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFo3FbXgHOKQwKBO8nJCF0ZFvMh1AtyMYE9KTOFwJLQc26vodml9lV_5w5YMDOhUfsF-MqtRQrjZKiSyHk1JzKYIUA4yha3Up7EfxuVkemqtYZaOckMAeg2yB7kzyvnXIM3VSfMTKxtc/s1600-h/IMG_1416.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfFo3FbXgHOKQwKBO8nJCF0ZFvMh1AtyMYE9KTOFwJLQc26vodml9lV_5w5YMDOhUfsF-MqtRQrjZKiSyHk1JzKYIUA4yha3Up7EfxuVkemqtYZaOckMAeg2yB7kzyvnXIM3VSfMTKxtc/s320/IMG_1416.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239781438042025138" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I have always marveled at the way that children are quick to form their own societies. I don’t mean in a “Lord of the Flies” sort of way, though I know there’s an aspect of that on every playground. No, my particular point of fascination is the way children form systems of exchange.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Nowhere else are these systems more prevalent than in elementary school cafeterias. Each item in one’s lunch has two possible kinds of utility: the utility you’ll get from consuming it yourself, and the utility it will bring when bargaining with the other kids for something better. The value of some items depends greatly on the market – in a sea of children with health-obsessed parents, something as plain as a cinnamon graham cracker could be the gold bullion of one’s lunchbox – but others have intrinsic absolute value. And at the top of this list are homemade cookies, especially those speckled with chocolate.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">But oddly enough, I have no recollections of chocolate chip cookie exchanges because these featured cookies were my greatest form of currency. My mom’s combination of oats, walnuts, and coconut seems an unlikely favorite with kids – especially with ones as picky as I used to be. But I promise you on the sanctity of memory and the red Pound Puppies lunchbox I held so dear, these were exceedingly popular. And every time I make them, I secretly feel as though I’m operating my own private mint.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Quakers</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Adapted from an Old Sturbridge pamphlet of cookie recipes</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LjD4yqyajF02Wj4wi2ooI-JWgEuDWW35iWSIWJAcmarB7yJ7goSv15gfFMn7zyn-AM96i7JCTnqzbm-RoMaKrZIf6DhLZa6xh2sa7GvuTBcaUcWYx5TZQYMYEJWIGVUDrOo7do4onFA/s1600-h/IMG_1414.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 279px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LjD4yqyajF02Wj4wi2ooI-JWgEuDWW35iWSIWJAcmarB7yJ7goSv15gfFMn7zyn-AM96i7JCTnqzbm-RoMaKrZIf6DhLZa6xh2sa7GvuTBcaUcWYx5TZQYMYEJWIGVUDrOo7do4onFA/s320/IMG_1414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239783212902138322" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Ingredients:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 cups dark brown sugar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 cup shortening</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 eggs, beaten</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 cups sifted flour</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3 cups rolled oats</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 ½ tsps. soda</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 tsp. salt</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 tsps. vanilla</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 cup shredded coconut</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">¾-1 cup chopped walnuts</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Directions:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. Preheat your oven to 375 degrees F.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2. Cream together the sugar and shortening in a large bowl using a wooden spoon.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3. Add beaten eggs and vanilla.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">4. Sift flour with soda and salt, stir in oats, and stir in the dry ingredients into the batter. Beat well.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">5. Add the coconut and walnuts and mix into the batter with a wooden spoon.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">6. Put ¼ cup sugar into a small bowl. Dip fingers into the sugar, then pinch off a bit of dough and roll it to the size of a walnut (so says the original recipe – I make mine more slightly larger, about 1.25 inches in diameter). Dip the ball into the sugar.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">7. Place balls on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper, about three inches apart. Press on each ball to flatten a bit with the palm of your hand.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">8. Bake for 12-15 minutes.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yield: ~4 dozen cookies</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLzGTVju6N0zEIQ-JPtybhMaqmlcoiZofX3D7dZ9xJ6kCL6AbmFt1K2p7eVzDI4Y0UKc-Ya6n147-u64l2-Mp2658SDXGjIuN4XhA42k3k7BAC20miXfa1UkRQz4LH8tu7Htpb_MZYvY/s1600-h/IMG_1409.JPG"><br /></a>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-82890374914056634022008-07-29T19:00:00.000-07:002008-11-13T06:42:11.436-08:00Blackberry-Peach Slump<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpGxTLer0-RBWT1TqV6PBuEUgGiE9MLuVoVjfj-QbUUy7mzUjZFllbNo1TwL8AmsXk1jRuMqdC9n8dQXSuBDH7ch9TxQAsnt8MqZ3aUyQqKgihZ2m9ui67w7kc__DpA6uOzOpMS-gZss0/s1600-h/IMG_1401.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpGxTLer0-RBWT1TqV6PBuEUgGiE9MLuVoVjfj-QbUUy7mzUjZFllbNo1TwL8AmsXk1jRuMqdC9n8dQXSuBDH7ch9TxQAsnt8MqZ3aUyQqKgihZ2m9ui67w7kc__DpA6uOzOpMS-gZss0/s320/IMG_1401.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228623107291213618" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I believe that anyone who’s ever baked has some negative history with one particular baked good. I don’t mean one cookie that turned out lousy in a batch of 5 dozen – I mean one category of product that has consistently turned out disappointing. Or rather, I should be more frank: a product that always seems to end up a failure of epic proportions. Several years ago, my sister and aunt had just such a tempestuous relationship with Tarte Tatin. I’m not exactly sure what sparked the obsession, nor do I remember how many attempts they made. Just know that I have numerous memories of the two of them baking the tarts and no memories of eating the tarts. And when I’m not eating, you know it’s a bad sign.</span><br /><img style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" src="file:///Users/norakurose/Pictures/iPhoto%20Library/2008/03/09/IMG_0837.JPG" alt="" /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I myself have had a similar relationship with cobbler. Although I’ve tried my hand at what feels like several versions, I have yet to have one come out right. Part of it has to do with the size of the pan I use, part of it has to do with my incompetence – but I like to think a great deal of it comes from my lack of an old passed-down-for-generations family recipe imbued with secrets that impart deliciousness upon a rather humble dessert.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3x4EBXxzUl2c7DDkca2uPVHDLDricHFVTbYNPsa6NFHRDndbEdQI5Gk6re6VALqvEL85p3PGH6T7Kp1Cb3drOlEtGgeGmxBo3_NfML2cGtEXshyphenhyphenSIvffW1yCrBU0CWI_u09eEG362i8/s1600-h/IMG_1391.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3x4EBXxzUl2c7DDkca2uPVHDLDricHFVTbYNPsa6NFHRDndbEdQI5Gk6re6VALqvEL85p3PGH6T7Kp1Cb3drOlEtGgeGmxBo3_NfML2cGtEXshyphenhyphenSIvffW1yCrBU0CWI_u09eEG362i8/s200/IMG_1391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228623369330000370" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Whatever the reason, my repeated failures caused me to create what I call the Cobbler Mystique: “I can do cookies, no problem! Cakes, okay! Cobbler – get someone else to do it!” The ultimate shame of course, is that I love eating cobbler. Wonderful use of fruit, a biscuity layer to contrast the sweetness and add a little texture, and it’s the perfect baked expression of summer.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">So when a friend came over and we were thinking of trying something that involved fresh summer fruits, cobbler was the first thing that came to mind. I tried to suppress it, the thought of my past humiliations seeping over my brain like The Blob at that oddly crowded movie theater, but to no avail. It was the clear choice. Until he (my baking partner, not The Blob) showed me a recipe he’d found for “Blackberry-Peach Slump.” I read through the recipe a few times. It was all there: the use of fresh fruit, summery ingredients, a biscuity top. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it must be a cobbler, right? But no! It was a Slump! Whatever that is!</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoiWpzSijtyZjgMEJI2vkaQ4n7aaTu9LqtZfF7ZzRq5Mymnq1F1GQK_TRnI1j1vAyYUZcle082LMILpBwYvweQ0W_kaeg97A4XSkzdpbhZCA9E-dxIaJkyuEX7yv-MTQiL39M9KMdr1PE/s1600-h/IMG_1399.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoiWpzSijtyZjgMEJI2vkaQ4n7aaTu9LqtZfF7ZzRq5Mymnq1F1GQK_TRnI1j1vAyYUZcle082LMILpBwYvweQ0W_kaeg97A4XSkzdpbhZCA9E-dxIaJkyuEX7yv-MTQiL39M9KMdr1PE/s200/IMG_1399.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228624802160188786" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Suddenly, my fears dissipated, and those countless cobblers that were almost burned at the edges and raw in the middle faded as if from a long, drawn-out nightmare. We tried the recipe and it came together easily and enjoyably. With minimal modifications, we produced what I feel to be one of the greatest Slumps the world has ever seen. (Insert pun about a Slump coming from my cobbler slump here.) So if you’ve been having similar doubts, doubt no more. I may not be able to make a cobbler to save my life, but I guarantee </span><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" href="http://www.chow.com/recipes/12174">this Slump recipe</a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> will make you feel pret-ty good about yourself – whether or not you deserve it.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Notes:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">- I didn’t know what size pan to use, so I chose a standard rectangular cake pan and just added more fruit. My embarrassing admission is that I have no idea how much fruit I added, but I believe it was at least half a cup. When you mix the filling together, you’ll have quite a bit of juices, so it won’t hurt to add more fruit without adding more of anything else. Eyeball it.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">- Vanilla beans are insanely expensive. I lacked them at the time, so I just added a teaspoon of vanilla extract instead when mixing the filling. If you’re determined to use vanilla beans though, buy them at Costco if possible – they’re much cheaper there than at specialty stores like Sur La Table.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">- Make sure to keep the thickness of the biscuit discs uniform to ensure even baking. If your oven is notoriously inconsistent, I might remove and turn the tray around in the middle of baking.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">- We used a combination of blackberries and raspberries to use with the stone fruit.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">- The photos include both "before" and "after" baking pictures. I'm sorry they're bad -- the lighting in my kitchen is less than optimal. As are my photography skills.</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-68888527226048946872008-07-22T19:56:00.000-07:002008-11-13T06:42:12.007-08:00Oatmeal Raisin Cookies<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zp3jvOtajGG3nTw0ld_JIqpK18-1oyDw5H-WX9iSrTD1cvj9aTzOWDyJ5_cScGg34CDQRLb-vH0skAryh_73CLadJsY__ohx3uiiqZyspJG1OFiFwXsRmWL_8BZFJ1bLfXGKUxx_4U8/s1600-h/IMG_1387.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zp3jvOtajGG3nTw0ld_JIqpK18-1oyDw5H-WX9iSrTD1cvj9aTzOWDyJ5_cScGg34CDQRLb-vH0skAryh_73CLadJsY__ohx3uiiqZyspJG1OFiFwXsRmWL_8BZFJ1bLfXGKUxx_4U8/s320/IMG_1387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226043360754373746" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">There's a scene in </span><u style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The Giver</u><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> (required reading for all 12 year-olds) where the protagonist is looking at an object, and suddenly it </span><i style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">changes</i><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> somehow. At first, you have no idea what's going on, until you realize that the boy has learned to see in color -- up to this point, he has been living in black and white.<br /><br /></span> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </div> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Life seems to be full of such moments when, as Obi-Wan once said, you realize you've taken your first step into a larger world. I had such a moment this past Sunday. For some reason, I got it into my head that it would be a good idea to bake two different batches of oatmeal raisin cookies from two different recipes. At first, it made complete sense -- I didn't like the products of the first recipe, so I tried a second one. Logical, right?</div> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </div> <div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br />Well, several hours, 5 cups of oats, 4 sticks of butter, and countless dishes later, I realized I had churned out about 5 dozen oatmeal raisin cookies. Five dozen cookies now sitting in my apartment. Where I live. Alone. And if that wasn't enough, the kicker was sitting on my living room floor -- a 9-pound box of Quaker Oats that I'd bought earlier that day. In fact, the act of purchasing it hadn't even seemed strange to me at the time. After all, a lunatic feels no shame at his lunacy; he doesn't think he's crazy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWURYg4Hc2HWEE3unRn2YuRKvaEyx1ZtI91oy3Q9xpcbD9XhQV93yQWIwmqQKGnL71woL6V-IGKAONz-kfZGwgWoMzXjceKFe0kqWqEbgrf2y8A6zJq40N1WpJBXtu2ZOXqJpSJkbj8_Q/s1600-h/IMG_1384.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWURYg4Hc2HWEE3unRn2YuRKvaEyx1ZtI91oy3Q9xpcbD9XhQV93yQWIwmqQKGnL71woL6V-IGKAONz-kfZGwgWoMzXjceKFe0kqWqEbgrf2y8A6zJq40N1WpJBXtu2ZOXqJpSJkbj8_Q/s200/IMG_1384.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226044257240062114" border="0" /></a>I, on the other hand, know as I glance at that 9-lb box of oatmeal (now already less than 9 lbs, as I used quite a bit of it), that I have entered a Brave New World of baking. Now that I've tasted the sweetness of unmitigated baking fascination, I can't go back. And I don't think I'd ever want to.<br /><br />Recipe notes:<br /><br />- I am posting the recipe of the "better" cookies below, though my office mates preferred what I thought turned out to be the unsuccessful batch. The other recipe yielded products that tasted more like candy than cookies to me -- all butter and sugar, a caramelized flavor, but slightly greasy and too spread out and lacking a good taste to the dough part of the cookie. If you're still interested in them though, let me know and I'll get you the recipe<br />- I added walnuts to this recipe because who wants an oatmeal raisin cookie without nuts?! Except for those who are allergic, and to you I say: I am so, so sorry.<br />- I also added vanilla. To me, a cookie without vanilla is like my life without baking, which is to say generally drab, boring, and other words that mean the same thing -- un-fun.<br />- The resulting cookies were slightly crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside! Hooray! They had a great oat-y flavor and the nutmeg really complimented the oats nicely. Though I do think they could also benefit from a little cinnamon. On the whole, a delightful (albeit pale) cookie, and one I will certainly make again.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxTkiF1-GW8qw3MnzEFFIaySUElAx6YpZVDOP5h4yGCRP-JalXXOOVhPJrazVhyKyItk6fuUsKUA462dOxy5WE_JjmQnLHC8MCn1krOUYRFQoHFB0rLn9dj99KHy59UWudsaUA04u5OKA/s1600-h/IMG_1378.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxTkiF1-GW8qw3MnzEFFIaySUElAx6YpZVDOP5h4yGCRP-JalXXOOVhPJrazVhyKyItk6fuUsKUA462dOxy5WE_JjmQnLHC8MCn1krOUYRFQoHFB0rLn9dj99KHy59UWudsaUA04u5OKA/s200/IMG_1378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226044829761608994" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">Oatmeal Raisin Cookies<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Adapted from The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook<br /><br />1 ½ cups all-purpose flour<br />½ tsp. baking powder<br />½ tsp. salt<br />¼ tsp. nutmeg<br />16 TBS (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened<br />1 cup packed light brown sugar<br />1 cup granulated sugar<br />2 large eggs<br />3 cups old-fashioned oats (instant oats won’t taste as good)<br />1 ½ cups raisins<br />1 ½ cups chopped walnuts<br />1 tsp. vanilla<br /><br />Directions:<br />1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.<br />2. Whisk the flour, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg together in a medium bowl. Set aside.<br />3. In a large bowl, combine butter and sugars with an electric mixer or by hand with a wooden spoon until light and fluffy. Beat in the vanilla.<br />4. Beat in the eggs one at a time, mixing until combined.<br />5. In three parts, slowly mix in the flour mixture with a wooden spoon until just combined. Mix in the oats, raisins, and walnuts until just incorporated.<br />6. Using a regular dinner spoon to help you scoop out the dough, shape large/medium balls with your hands (~2 TBS) and place them on parchment paper on your baking sheets, ~ 2 ½ inches apart. Flatten each one a bit with the palm of your hand.<br />7. Place 2 baking sheets in the oven at a time and bake for 22-25 minutes, making sure to switch and rotate the trays halfway through the total baking time. Remove from oven when the cookies are lightly golden but the centers are still soft and puffy.<br />8. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheets for 10 minutes, then serve warm or transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.<br /><br />Yield: ~ 32 cookies<br /><br /></span></div>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-89499250622205396482008-07-19T19:42:00.000-07:002008-11-13T06:42:12.511-08:00Chocolate Chip Cookies, Episode II<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRqRyJRwfCV-c-mDWpcQVfb8mpWDkii0w2HCJxBYYnQq58NMCJFb-FPjieYajDEotxVWW7rivt-FDdMNQ2KKOcrF6mafEYWwTFlF02CiW6zagJGIDyR90OcJ2KRQlVKYq6THeAX4aOEM/s1600-h/IMG_1369.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224921778434943186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmRqRyJRwfCV-c-mDWpcQVfb8mpWDkii0w2HCJxBYYnQq58NMCJFb-FPjieYajDEotxVWW7rivt-FDdMNQ2KKOcrF6mafEYWwTFlF02CiW6zagJGIDyR90OcJ2KRQlVKYq6THeAX4aOEM/s320/IMG_1369.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">The New York Times recently ran an </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/09/dining/09chip.html?_r=1&oref=login">article</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> about chocolate chip cookies, touting that they had come upon the </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/09/dining/091crex.html?ref=dining">Holy Grail of chocolate chip cookie recipes</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">. The food blog Serious Eats had a </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2007/10/the_best_chocolate_cookie_recipe_ever_unless_1.html">similar article</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> about this. The internet is filled with the legends about the </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://www.snopes.com/business/consumer/cookie.asp">$250 cookie recipe</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">, or debates about whether a chocolate chip cookie should be chewy or crispy or perhaps even a little bit of both. People have really torn each other to pieces over this topic. Did </span><a style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chocolate_chip_cookie#cite_note-1">Ruth Graves Wakefield</a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"> accidentally drop a bunch of chocolate pieces into her batter, or was it the purposeful act of a genius who would change our lives forever?</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">As far as I'm concerned, the swirling rumors and historical inaccuracies tend to add complexity to perhaps the greatest aspect of the chocolate chip cookie -- its simplicity. I doubt the world will ever agree upon which recipe is "best," considering that I am hard-pressed to think of another topic upon which we all agree. So you can take your panel of "chocolate chip cookie experts" and food historians and cookie chemists and the whole lot. I am not an expert, but I am looking for a cookie that:</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">- Is chewy in texture (due to the ingredients and techniques rather than to simple underbaking)</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">- Has some caramel/toffee notes in it</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">- Does NOT skimp on the chocolate or insist that it be in enormo-chunks or perfectly factory-ized chips</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">- Puffs up just a bit instead of being flat and runny</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">- Does not have nuts, but would be perfectly wonderful with the addition of something like walnuts or pecans</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">- Is large enough to feel substantial in your hand but NOT large enough to feed a small nation</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-xywgzkRZrwWFs5tZQtjJRCXBdVwhatrtUP0zxLUnI2gqV05EkFDOLedS2LgiXzZbozoQz6X5rsd8Pp7K9bX19-E4gN3Drv3MWrMjJ8l4GBAhqF8YYNW6HjV3QJhyphenhyphen8QgsFLWn3FUVars/s1600-h/IMG_1353.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224921508567044578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-xywgzkRZrwWFs5tZQtjJRCXBdVwhatrtUP0zxLUnI2gqV05EkFDOLedS2LgiXzZbozoQz6X5rsd8Pp7K9bX19-E4gN3Drv3MWrMjJ8l4GBAhqF8YYNW6HjV3QJhyphenhyphen8QgsFLWn3FUVars/s200/IMG_1353.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">In my ongoing quest to hit upon the perfect recipe to yield the cookie detailed above, this recipe is the closest I’ve yet come. I posted one version of this recipe before, but the one thing the NYTimes article imparted upon me was that the "chill the dough first" strategy was one worth exploring. I made a double batch of these (because my recipe usually yields a measly 2 dozen cookies), and, so sayeth Dinah Washington, "What a difference a day made." I mean, really. I couldn't be bothered to chill the batter for 36 hours -- what an odd period of time -- but a bit less than 24 hours seemed to do just fine. Oh and don't begin to be impressed, I did not come up with this recipe out of my little brain. It is a modified version of the Neiman Marcus one posted online at their website.</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Chocolate </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJOtHY2ocEhwXcdvLMowjJgDsPYCW3NYk09M0bypaBrskT54ZVsohGFJ2CkmJp-bkW0JB4B1k_kayOVMi5BeWSD3Gm3cLz3pz6dH7zUcTCVQ1SCxi1baBBNHImMhMi8f9ZThBkHNLv24/s1600-h/IMG_1364.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224924998003652786" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJOtHY2ocEhwXcdvLMowjJgDsPYCW3NYk09M0bypaBrskT54ZVsohGFJ2CkmJp-bkW0JB4B1k_kayOVMi5BeWSD3Gm3cLz3pz6dH7zUcTCVQ1SCxi1baBBNHImMhMi8f9ZThBkHNLv24/s320/IMG_1364.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Chip Cookies, v 2.0</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Ingredients:</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1 cup light brown sugar</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">3 TBS granulated sugar</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1 large egg</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">2 tsps. vanilla extract</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1 ¾ cups all-purpose flour</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">½ tsp. baking powder</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">½ tsp. baking soda</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">½ tsp. salt</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1 tsp. instant espresso powder</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1 ½ cups (~9 oz) chopped bittersweet chocolate</span><br /><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">Directions:</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">1. Cream the butter with the sugars using a wooden spoon. Mix until homogenous.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">2. Beat in the egg and vanilla extract with the wooden spoon. Add espresso powder and mix until evenly distributed.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">3. In a separate bowl, combine flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder with a wire whisk.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">4. Slowly add dry ingredients to wet ingredients in three parts and use wooden spoon to combine until dry ingredients are just incorporated.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">5. Use a rubber spatula to gently incorporate chopped chocolate bits into the dough.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">6. Chill dough for 24-36 hours.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">7. When you’re ready to bake, preheat the oven to 300 degrees F and line baking sheets with parchment paper.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">8. Using a teaspoon and your hands, form large rounded lumps of dough (~2 TBS each – it should feel like a small handful when rolling, about the size of a ping pong ball) and place them on your cookie sheets ~3 inches apart. Make sure to give them the proper space.</span><br /><span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)">9. Bake for about 20 minutes or until cookies are starting to lightly brown at the edges. If you want your cookies soft and chewy, do not let the cookies themselves turn golden on top. Simply remove after ~23 minutes (checking periodically) and leave them on the sheet for a few minutes to let them continue cooking before removing them with a spatula and placing them on a wire rack to cool.</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-20779477474122674302008-07-16T21:31:00.000-07:002008-11-13T06:42:12.901-08:00Blueberry Muffins<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-kjfVL5jobEmgqk0U40TfYhIawWLJiKba-rAnkBXG5VDEY5ZvJ9z-PXoAbvPD6ML7CU7X3-jPPsP2KOJDmMydRbyXqkbl_Ch3C8lqkm0y7KAxugio1laiA8qj78yNCS4J22fUaPy4ps/s1600-h/IMG_1237.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI-kjfVL5jobEmgqk0U40TfYhIawWLJiKba-rAnkBXG5VDEY5ZvJ9z-PXoAbvPD6ML7CU7X3-jPPsP2KOJDmMydRbyXqkbl_Ch3C8lqkm0y7KAxugio1laiA8qj78yNCS4J22fUaPy4ps/s200/IMG_1237.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217529000788389698" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">When I was little, I assumed that all of my mom’s baking genius was rooted in the spiral-bound recipe book she kept in one of the kitchen shelves. Even though she had numerous recipes around the house, it always seemed to me that whenever she was making one of my favorite treats, the book was out there on the table, making sure everything turned out just right. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">It was with the routine expectation of a gloriously successful product, then, that I set out to make her famous Sturbridge Blueberry Muffins – direct from the spiral notebook. I had copied the recipe by hand into a spiral notebook of my own when I got my first apartment. When I finally got to try one, I was beside myself with excitement. But alas! They were exactly like my mom’s…minus the flavor. </span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tKJnGSVVqKC9OFxiEgZLYk4qBV-HJTRkD_TwoMWUk0Hqn0DnjJDUsXffgAMp7d_IngiUPHX6othYi0i3XXqIBiXQAyGCpV1RICBiYrI997Ysn9kG_ojuUYA7Wp9QUem1hem5py0A2nQ/s1600-h/IMG_1241.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tKJnGSVVqKC9OFxiEgZLYk4qBV-HJTRkD_TwoMWUk0Hqn0DnjJDUsXffgAMp7d_IngiUPHX6othYi0i3XXqIBiXQAyGCpV1RICBiYrI997Ysn9kG_ojuUYA7Wp9QUem1hem5py0A2nQ/s320/IMG_1241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217528232185101122" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I called her up with the humility that only comes from a failed baking experiment, and whined that I must have followed the recipe incorrectly. There was a short pause on the receiver, then, “Hm… you know… I might have made a few changes to that recipe.” Wait wait wait CHANGES?! From the all-knowing BOOK?! As it turns out, my mom’s genius was not rooted in the book at all, but in – her genius. She made what a friend from my old office once termed “Mamafications.” There are some types of moms who deliberately alter recipes before distributing them to retain their family secrets, but mine isn’t one of them. When it comes to baking, she’s one of those intuitive individuals who just makes whatever changes she thinks are appropriate at that time. And they nearly always turn out fantastic. Phooey.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Okay so I haven’t inherited the talent for Mamafications, but I made a few changes of my own, and several mediocre batches later, here they are. They don’t photograph well, but they do make for a great breakfast. I am incredibly inept at making streusels, so instead I combine the topping ingredients into a bit of a paste and apply a little to each heap of batter prior to baking. This results in a sweet crust and a nicely shaped top over a moist, tender blueberry muffin.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-size:130%;" >Sturbridge Blueberry Muffins </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">(with norafications)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 cup sugar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">½ cup brown sugar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 TBS baking powder</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">4 eggs</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 TBS salt</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 cup shortening</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3 cups blueberries (whole)</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 cup milk</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">4 ½ cups flour</span><br /><br />Topping Ingredients:<br />1/2 cup brown sugar<br />1/2 cup butter, cut into cubes<br />1/4 cup flour<br />1/8 tsp. cinnamon<br />1/8 tsp. nutmeg<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yield: 24 muffins</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. Put paper muffin liners in each cup of a 12-cup muffin tin (or paper two tins if you have two). Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2. Combine sugars and shortening in a large bowl with a wooden spoon.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3. Add the eggs and mix heartily with a wooden spoon until well blended. Add milk and stir until combined.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">4. In a medium bowl, sift dry ingredients using a fork or a whisk. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients with minimal stirring. Mix until just combined.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">5. Fold the berries into the batter using a rubber spatula.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">6. Use two spoons to distribute half the batter evenly between the 12 muffin cups.<br />---<br /></span>Topping Directions:<br />1. Sift flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg.<br />2. Combine butter and brown sugar with a fork.<br />3. Add dry ingredients to creamed butter/sugar mixture; combinue using fingers, and lightly pile paste evenly onto muffin batter (once divided between the cups in the tin) prior to baking.<br />---<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">7. Pop the tin into the oven and bake the muffins for 15 to 20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let the muffins cool in the pan for 5 minutes before removing them and setting them on wire racks to complete cooling.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">8. Make sure to let the muffin tin cool before washing it out and putting the second set of cups in and filling them with the rest of the batter. Repeat the baking process.</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-4000792886459888752008-07-11T19:24:00.000-07:002008-11-13T06:42:13.229-08:00Ici: Ice cream review (lament)<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbCPyzF_umFYXNVTmSERkmjtrv4pj9AfeMZGnht48U_O3oskG8reUlW1f5vd4V-4XrYc7mraxnXGTI8a8_cyNA0pB7Z35vJ8Q5HyJLZihVX4udyrebSxGW7SZ-n1k0uYmiwKdO0GNB5go/s1600-h/IMG_1348.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 307px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbCPyzF_umFYXNVTmSERkmjtrv4pj9AfeMZGnht48U_O3oskG8reUlW1f5vd4V-4XrYc7mraxnXGTI8a8_cyNA0pB7Z35vJ8Q5HyJLZihVX4udyrebSxGW7SZ-n1k0uYmiwKdO0GNB5go/s320/IMG_1348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221953201255701170" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">My sister always used to tell my mom that she was impressed by my confident air that (presumably) implied I knew so much about life. Until the day she realized that I say everything with confidence -- even when I have no idea what I'm talking about.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yes, it's true, I am a prime offender when it comes to speaking with conviction while lacking the necessary expertise to do such. Call it a quirk, call it a flaw, call it exceptionally annoying, whatever you like. In my quest for the best Berkeley ice cream, however, I've made the sad discovery that I am not the only one with this tendency.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The problem with living in a new city where you don't know anyone is that the only people whose opinions are available about food destinations are those on the unfiltered internet. This is not to say that I think of sites like Yelp and Chowhound as electronic hangouts for the Great Unwashed. What I mean is that you need people you trust to lead you to the best place for </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">you</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">. My boyfriend understands this better than anyone, in that every time I rave about a restaurant, his first question is, "Yes, but would </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> like it?" It takes an individual who knows you quite well to be able to answer that question, and unfortunately for me, none of those individuals are members of the online review boards.<br /></span><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkgImYd28Zl2thUeyBiF-9Rj96G7j6CyCwphwOGI88-iXUdXgXgqpaUUkzNOPQGTgUYuE5VzCOA6ahMyrh6fpf6JP7IlkLYRC_QwQDT2S-0d8XzT6Ta1HcbPe6wHX37RdEddBBXH8bZNY/s1600-h/CM+Capture+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkgImYd28Zl2thUeyBiF-9Rj96G7j6CyCwphwOGI88-iXUdXgXgqpaUUkzNOPQGTgUYuE5VzCOA6ahMyrh6fpf6JP7IlkLYRC_QwQDT2S-0d8XzT6Ta1HcbPe6wHX37RdEddBBXH8bZNY/s320/CM+Capture+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221953357343613026" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">This is all a big build-up for me to say that my experience at Ici, an outrageously popular ice cream establishment on College Avenue in Berkeley, was underwhelming. Yes, the owner was the former pastry chef at Chez Panisse. Yes, they boast exotic flavors like chickory-cinnamon, cardmom-rose, and lemon-thyme. And yes, my ice cream was tasty (one scoop of coffee ice cream in a cup -- it's cheating to get yours in a cone when reviewing a place, as ice cream nearly always tastes better in a cone).</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">BUT! My ice cream was not worlds better than any other ice cream place (except when compared to a place like ColdStone, my opinions on which could make me spontaneously combust). In fact, the first bite immediately made me wish I was eating the ice cream of <a href="http://www.fosselmans.com/">Fosselman's</a> instead. The texture was smooth and creamy, but I tasted more pure sweetness than coffee flavor, and I found myself thinking of it as the Nice Guy of ice cream. [As has often been said, girls tend to avoid dating the Nice Guy because he's all sweetness -- no edge, no complexity, no excitement.] Would I eat it if it was free? Certainly. Would I call it the best? Not by a long stretch.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The fact is, the simplest, most traditional flavors are the best ones by which to judge any ice cream joint because there's no novelty of the Gourmet Ice Cream Mad Libs that goes on nowadays. You know, [normal ice cream flavor] + [random trendy herb or spice] = [cutting edge]. Besides, if you find there's a combination that sounds great as a garnish for a steak (such as the "lemon-thyme" on the menu yesterday), isn't that a sign that it </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">wouldn't </span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">make the best ice cream? So for now, I'm still on the lookout for a Berkeley standout.</span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7087594234201635162.post-46239045928185799322008-06-17T18:41:00.000-07:002008-11-13T06:42:13.687-08:00Aunt Trish's Snickerdoodles<a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMFcLjvMRG4ZImsoVdfLhCFAX3b8IuUMaZjoGCcnGsF0fg5CNzoY2PveSdMOoBzkaHDnbyvaoju-7IymR-aH1uIMW1lMhCTwEtkILgOKqOhuyVJXR6HpAWUoOvI_Q6ea4Z1I8LShfvJFk/s1600-h/IMG_1073.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMFcLjvMRG4ZImsoVdfLhCFAX3b8IuUMaZjoGCcnGsF0fg5CNzoY2PveSdMOoBzkaHDnbyvaoju-7IymR-aH1uIMW1lMhCTwEtkILgOKqOhuyVJXR6HpAWUoOvI_Q6ea4Z1I8LShfvJFk/s320/IMG_1073.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213035759392046002" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">It’s a sad truth that sometimes, the more people become enamored with the now very fashionable world of food, it’s easy to become a bit of a snob. And while I admire all those who only buy organic ingredients, grow their own vegetables, and measure out their flour by weight instead of by cups, sometimes I yearn for the simplicity of a recipe whose primary purpose is to give you something sweet and comforting, even without the righteous frills. </span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />It was with this in mind that I sought out a recipe for Snickerdoodles – the cookie that has, over the years, elicited perhaps the maximum scoffs from the entire population at large. I’ve had a few over time, but none were quite what I wanted. Several were delightfully oversized but disappointingly dry, while others looked chewy but felt about as soft as biting into a porcelain plate. Perhaps in my quest to utilize fancy ingredients and namedrop famous pastry chefs, I lost track of that important homey quality. Fate, it seems, kept me from the perfect snickerdoodle until I could find it again.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8BOExjoUmninEuhUJyFK1Gh6_1Om6a3fmVhZyJT6IV7N6q2-Hr1CJgdTphQWz-Fh7JsFV4TShQ-_jsbBUYXrSiUSpvdSpK02B-RuTNfSBT52U3hvChvA5ZUHr1nNyd2pch61ZiN1-E4A/s1600-h/IMG_1072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8BOExjoUmninEuhUJyFK1Gh6_1Om6a3fmVhZyJT6IV7N6q2-Hr1CJgdTphQWz-Fh7JsFV4TShQ-_jsbBUYXrSiUSpvdSpK02B-RuTNfSBT52U3hvChvA5ZUHr1nNyd2pch61ZiN1-E4A/s200/IMG_1072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213036721074551970" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Luckily, I received a much-needed dose of reality to check my heady baking rampages when I took a stab at a lemon strawberry cake that was an incredible failure. I shant go into the details (as my poor bruised ego is still recovering), but needless to say the greatest fruits of my labor were a small burn on my left forearm and an entire loaf of bread that had to be thrown away. It was then that I was the fortunate recipient of a recipe from my boyfriend’s aunt. She tells me she’s not really a serious baker, but the Kitchen Aid on her counter, the antique bundt pans on the wall, and all my boyfriend’s accounts of her goods would suggest otherwise. This recipe yields the snickerdoodle of which I’ve always dreamed – crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, with a simple but utterly delicious taste of butter, cinnamon, and sugar. </span> <span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><br />Unlike many snickerdoodle recipes that use only butter, this one uses both butter and shortening. Dorrie Greenspan says in her book that the combination of the fats is what makes her pie crusts the best around, and I am inclined to think that it is this same duo that makes the cookies what they are.<br /><br /></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Aunt Trish's Snickerdoodles<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span>Ingred</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">ients:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 cup butter, softened</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/2 cup shortening</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 1/2 cup sugar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 eggs</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 tsp. cream of tartar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1 tsp. baking soda</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1/4 tsp. salt</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 TBS sugar</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2 tsp. cinnamon</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Method:</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">2. Mix butter, shortening, sugar, and eggs.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">3. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">4. Add dry ingredients to wet ingredients and combine with wooden spoon. Shape dough by rounded teaspoons into balls.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">5. In a shallow bowl, mix 2 TBS sugar and cinnamon; roll balls in mixture.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">6. Place 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheet.</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">7. Bake ~ 8 to 10 minutes or until set. Immediately remove from baking sheet.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Yield: ~ 6 dozen cookies. </span>Norahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09707709970472487820noreply@blogger.com0