Tags: baking, cake, fruit
Ummm…hello? It’s been radio silent here on this blog for almost a month. How embarrassing, but I just haven’t been baking much lately. We went to the beach (and didn’t want to come back). Then when we did come back, I was given what I can only assume was a punishment schedule at work for having taken (unpaid!) vacation time. But, now I’m back in the game, and with rhubarb no less!
I tried really hard to find local rhubarb to make Johanne Killeen’s Fresh Rhubarb Upside-Down Cake. I feel like it should be around these parts by now, but after striking out at three different farmers’ markets, I stopped wasting my time (and MetroCard swipes) and just got a few stalks from the grocery.
This recipe is intended to make several little baby cakes, but I just baked it off as one big mama in a cast iron skillet. It wasn’t super goopy so it wasn’t too scary to flip out of the skillet. Dark brown sugar gives this upside-down topping real character, and crème fraiche makes the cake batter extra tender. I threw a splash of vanilla into the batter, too, which maybe wasn’t totally necessary since it wasn’t called for in the recipe…and since I had vanilla ice cream with it anyway…but whatevs.
I can see this also being a tasty base recipe for stone fruit or even mango upside-down cake. For the recipe, see Baking with Julia by Dorie Greenspan or read Erin’s When in Doubt…Leave it at 350. It’s also here. Don’t forget to check out the rest of the TWD Blogroll!
Tags: baking, fruit, pie
I made Leslie Mackie’s French Apple Tart back in the fall, when I had heaps of pink-skinned apples from my CSA. Good thinking, because the apples I’ve had lately haven’t been so great. If the tart looks a little familiar, maybe that’s because it’s a sister to the Normandy Apple Tart we made in TWD 1.0 about a year ago.
This tart is easy to make, but it isn’t a quick throw-together. Get prepared…you can do some of these things in advance. You need pie dough, apple compote for the filling (this one’s made in the oven) and lots of thinly sliced apples to spiral on top. It certainly is pretty, though, not to mention delicate and delicious. Your friends will think it came from a pâtisserie.
For the recipe, see Baking with Julia by Dorie Greenspan or read Gaye’s Laws of The Kitchen. It’s also here (and there’s even a video of Leslie and Julia making the tart together). Don’t forget to check out the rest of the TWD Blogroll!
Tags: baking, fruit, pie
Last Saturday, my CSA workshift rolled around (cuz you know, apparently CSAs are socialist). To tell the truth, I was kind of dreading standing there for three hours early on a weekend morning, but as it turned out, the weather was great and I got the job I wsa hoping for. I got to weigh out the coveted concord grapes that were last week’s fruit share. Actually I got to dole out both grapes and advice. Pretty much everyone who came through asked what to do with them. How about eat them…juice them…jam them…pie them?!?! Being the grape mistress also meant I got first dibs on leftovers when we cleaned up. I took home a few extra stems…enough in total to make both concord grape jam and a little pie of my own.
Concord grapes are like the grapiest grapes there are. They’re the grapes that “grape-flavored” things imitate. And they are the most dreamy shade of purpley blue. When I recommended to my fellow CSA-ers that they make a pie, most of them looked at me like I had two heads. I guess a grape pie does sound a little weird, but it is so, so delicious. Jammy and sweet and purple.
Now that I’ve talked up these grapes, here’s the bad news. They have seeds. Hard seeds that are unpleasant to eat, and IMO must be removed. Making a pie from them is a labor of love, but I’m willing to put in the time to de-seed. I don’t mind so much turning on the radio and zoning out with a little kitchen prep. Anyway, it is a once a year treat, and the time spent makes every bite taste that much better.
Concord Grape Pie– makes a 9-inch pie
heavily adapted from a recipe in Bon Appétit (September 2008)
Steph’s Note: If concords aren’t available where you live, or you’d like a more year-round, less labor-intensive alternative, see the original recipe (which uses seedless red grapes).
8 cups stemmed concord grapes (about 2 1/2 pounds), rinsed well and patted dry
3/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup cornstarch
1/4 tsp salt
squeeze of lemon juice
double-crust recipe of your favorite flaky pastry dough (I used Dorie’s), divided into two disks and well-chilled
1 large egg, beaten to blend (for glaze)
1 T turbinado or granulated sugar
-Slice grapes in half and remove the seeds. Transfer grapes (and their skins, which tend to easily slip off–don’t worry about it) to large sieve set over large bowl. Drain off grape liquid, saving 2 tablespoons.
-Whisk 3/4 cup sugar, cornstarch and salt in another large bowl to blend. Mix in drained grapes, reserved juice and squeeze of lemon juice.
-Preheat your oven to 375°F. Roll out one disk of dough on floured surface to a 13-inch round; transfer to pie dish. Brush dough edge with egg glaze. Fill with grape mixture. Roll out the second disk of dough to a 12-inch round. Top pie with dough; trim overhang to 1/2 inch. Roll edge under and crimp. Brush top of pie with glaze; sprinkle with raw sugar. Cut several slits in top crust to allow steam to escape. Chill the pie until your oven is fully heated.
-Bake pie until golden and juices bubble thickly, 60 to 70 minutes, slipping a baking sheet under the pie plate at the halfway point. Cool the pie on a rack to warm or room temperature, 2 to 3 hours. You should think about having vanilla ice cream on hand.
Tags: baking, cake, fruit
It’s Fridays with Dorie for me this week with Mary Bergin’s fabulous Nectarine Upside-Down Chiffon Cake. I made, and ate, this cake a couple of weekends ago. Then I was so excited to go Montreal for Labor Day weekend, I didn’t post. We came home and I still didn’t post, because I’ve been too busy looking at Montreal real estate websites and daydreaming about living there!!
This recipe is in a section in the book called “Everyday Delights” but I think it’s pretty fancy. It’s not just a standard-issue tinned fruit upside-down cake. Underneath the glistening fresh nectarines is a light chiffon cake bisected by a layer of crispy almond streusel. It’s a bit of work to pull off, but I thought it was worth every bite. And really, the streusel could be skipped to save a step…it would be just as good, I think.
I had good success with this chiffon. I was a little worried when I saw the batter almost totally filled my springform, and it did mushroom up in the oven. But nothing overflowed, thank goodness. If you are worried, I’d suggest taking out a couple scoops and making them into cupcakes or something. It was kinda hard to tell if the cake was done, and I think I left it in the oven a few extra miinutes. When making chiffons, the cake pans are often ungreased so the batter can really climb up the sides. I’ve learned to (gingerly!) run a thin knife around the edges of the pans about five to ten minutes after the cakes have come out of the oven. This helps the cakes to not tear away from the sides as they start to cool, which I think can cause them to sink a bit.
For the recipe, see Baking with Julia by Dorie Greenspan or read Marlise’s The Double Trouble Kitchen and Susan’s The Little French Bakery. There’s also a video of Julia and Mary baking this together. Don’t forget to check out the rest of the TWD Blogroll!
Tags: baking, fruit, pie
This week it’s Thursday with Dorie. Oops, someone didn’t pay attention…my bad. Anyway, here is Flo Braker’s Crunchy Berry Galette, made instead with peaches and red currants from my CSA. A galette is a freeform pie. I make little individual ones everyday at the shop where I work, but we call them crostatas, cuz we’re Italian like that.
This galette has an unusal dough…it’s not a flaky pie pastry. It gets it’s crunch from cornmeal and softness from sour cream. The dough is seriously sticky, but I rolled and formed it directly on the parchment I used for baking, so I didn’t really have issues with it. I added a tiny spoon of cornstarch to the filling just to tighten it up a bit. I still had a little leaky juice, but no major explosion. This was small, perfect for two with ice cream.
For the recipe, see Baking with Julia by Dorie Greenspan or read Lisa’s Tomato Thymes in the Kitchen and Garden and Andrea’s The Kitchen Lioness. It’s also here. Don’t forget to check out the rest of the TWD Blogroll!
Tags: baking, fruit, pie
Yeah, I know that just a couple of weeks ago I declared crisp to be the new pie. And now here I am with an old school pie. A big pie, too…not my normal half-sizer, but a full nine-inch pie. A pie that I can eat while I watch the Olympics– ha! Leslie Mackie’s Blueberry-Nectarine Pie is actually a favorite recipe. I’ve made this pie several times in summers past and it’s always great. I really love nectarines, even more than peaches, I think.
There are a couple of wacky instructions in the recipe that I don’t go by. First, it says to assemble the pie in a one-inch tall nine-inch cake pan. That’s weird…why not use a pie pan? I do. Then it says to cool the pie for 30 minutes before cutting. Trust me, it needs to cool much longer than that if you don’t want your filling to pour out when you slice it. I always try to bake my pies in the morning, so that by dinner time, they are well-set.
By the way, I spent last week on the West Coast, mainly visiting my family in Seattle. I had my mother take me to Mackie’s Macrina Bakery in SODO one afternoon. I didn’t see this pie there, but the breads are amazing.
For the recipe, see Baking with Julia by Dorie Greenspan or read Hilary’s Manchego’s Kitchen and Liz’s That Skinny Chick Can Bake. It’s also here. Don’t forget to check out the rest of the TWD Blogroll!
Tags: baking, crisps, dessert, fruit
Cherry season is preciously short, and, where I live, it’s right now. It’s probably nearing the end of the road for them, actually, as all things fruity seem to appearing and disappearing early this summer (due to the 60° winter we had, no doubt). I’m going to the greenmarket tomorrow to find more tart red jewels before they go bye-bye till next year.
I’m deciding these days that I find crisps to be as satisfying as pie, but with a lot less effort. Perhaps that makes them slightly more satisfying? Sounds lazy, but prepping cherries is a labour of love as it is (and usually leads to a t-shirt covered in red speckles) so I’m happy not to also deal with the clean-up involved in making crust. Soft fruit with a crispy topping of oats and brown sugar is hard to beat anyway. I’m also digging this combination of sour cherries and pistachios, but some roughly chopped almonds would be a fine stand-in if you don’t have the pistachios on hand.
Sour Cherry and Pistachio Crisp- serves 8
adapted from marthastewart.com
Steph’s Notes: I made a half recipe in a smaller baking dish. It took less time to bake than the full recipe did, about 35 minutes in total, and I turned the oven down to 325°F for the last 10 minutes to keep my topping from getting too brown.
1 3/4 pounds pitted fresh or frozen sour cherries
1/2 cup chopped unsalted pistachios
1/2 cup, plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/3 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1/4 tsp baking powder
6 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
3 tbsp packed light-brown sugar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tsp cornstarch (increase to 2 1/2 tsp if you like your filling a little more tight)
pinch of ground cinnamon
-Preheat oven to 375°F. If using frozen cherries, spread them in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet. Let stand at room temperature until cherries have thawed almost completely but still hold their shape, about 30 minutes. Drain off any accumulated liquid. If you are using fresh cherries, just stem and pit them and you are good to go.
-Whisk together the pistachios, flour, oats, baking powder, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a medium bowl; set aside. Put butter, brown sugar, and 1/4 cup granulated sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment; mix on medium speed until creamy…this is not hard to do by hand with a wooden spoon, if you choose. Stir pistachio mixture into butter mixture until just combined. Work mixture through your fingers until it forms coarse crumbs ranging in size from small peas to gum balls. Chill topping in the refrigerator for at least 15 minutes. You can even make the topping the day before and hold it in the fridge.
-Stir together cherries, remaining 1/2 cup granulated sugar, the cornstarch, cinnamon and a pinch of salt in a medium bowl. Transfer cherry mixture to an 8-inch square glass or ceramic baking dish. Sprinkle the chilled topping evenly over cherry mixture. Bake until topping turns golden and juices are bubbling, 50 minutes to 1 hour, turning at the half-way point. If you notice that your topping is browning too quickly, turn the heat down to 325°F for the remainder of the baking time. Let cool on a wire rack 1 hour before serving. A little ice cream on top is a fine idea.
Tags: baking, cake, fruit
It’s kind of hard to fire up the oven in the middle of a heat wave, especially when you don’t have A/C in the kitchen. But I’m willing to get started early in the day if I know that by the end of it I’ll have a piece of cool, chilled tres leches cake on my plate. It pairs so well with seasonal fruit, that this really is a great summer cake, if you have a place to keep it cold.
I did another tres leches cake here before with a baking group. I wasn’t crazy about that one…it was dense and heavy, for which I blamed the creamed butter mixing method. I like this separated egg method much better. It makes a cake that’s light and spongy and just sucks up all tres of the leches you pour on top. I’m amazed that a cake can absorb such a ridiculously huge amount of liquid, but it does.
I made this with strawberries, which have now come and gone from the Greenmarket, but the raspberries and blueberries that are around now would be just as tasty…and very Fourth of July appropriate, I think.
Boozy Berry-Topped Tres Leches Cake– makes a 9×13-inch cake
adapted from a recipe in Fine Cooking, Issue 117 by Fany Gerson
Steph’s Notes: If you don’t want the booze, just leave it out of the cake and topping for a “regular” tres leches. Of course, you can leave off the fruit as well. You can soak the cake in the milk mixture up to a day ahead and top it up to 2 hours ahead.
for the cake
unsalted butter, softened, for the pan
4 1/2 oz (1 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp kosher salt
5 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup whole milk
3/4 tsp pure vanilla extract
for the soaking liquid
1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk
1 12 oz can evaporated milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
Pinch kosher salt
1 tbs gin, tequila, rum or orange liqueur
for the topping
2 1/2 cups heavy cream
3 tbs gin, tequila, rum or orange liqueur
2 tbs confectioners’ sugar
1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
4 cups summer berries (one type or a mix)
Bake the cake:
-Position a rack in the center of the oven and heat the oven to 350°F.
-Butter the bottom and sides of a 9×13-inch Pyrex baking dish or a nonreactive metal pan. Line the bottom of the baking dish or pan with parchment and lightly butter the parchment.
-Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt into a medium bowl and set aside.
-Separate the eggs, putting the whites in a medium bowl and the yolks in a large bowl. With an electric mixer, beat the yolks with 3/4 cup of the sugar on medium speed until the mixture is pale and creamy, about 2 minutes. Add the milk and vanilla and beat until combined, 1 minute more.
-Clean and dry the beaters and then beat the egg whites, gradually increasing the speed to high, until they reach soft peaks, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the remaining 1/4 cup sugar in a stream, continuing to beat on high, until you reach firm but not dry peaks, 1 to 2 minutes more. Whisk a third of the dry ingredients into the yolk mixture until thoroughly combined. Gently fold in a third of the egg whites with a rubber spatula. Fold in the remaining dry ingredients and egg whites, alternately, in two more batches each, until fully incorporated.
-Pour the batter into the prepared dish or pan and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 20 to 25 minutes. Let the cake cool in the pan on a rack for 10 minutes, then invert the cake onto the rack, remove the parchment, and let cool completely.
-Return the cake to the baking dish or pan (the cake will soak up more of the liquid if returned to the pan it was baked in), or invert it onto a rimmed platter.
Soak the cake: In a 2-quart saucepan, stir together the condensed milk, evaporated milk, heavy cream, and salt until the condensed milk is well blended. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring to avoid scorching, until it begins to bubble around the edges, 3 to 5 minutes. Remove from the heat, add the booze and pour into a heatproof 4-cup measuring cup. With a toothpick, prick the cake to the bottom in 1/2-inch intervals. Pour the soaking liquid slowly over the cake, starting at the edges and pausing to let it soak in before adding more. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and refrigerate until the cake is well chilled, at least 2 hours and up to 24 hours.
Top the cake: In a large bowl, beat the heavy cream with an electric mixer on medium speed. When it begins to thicken, slowly add the booze, sugar and vanilla and continue to beat just until it holds firm peaks, 3 to 4 minutes (be careful not to over-beat). Spread the whipped cream all over the top of the cake. Spoon the berries over the whipped cream and serve.
Tags: baking, cake, fruit
Flo Braker‘s French Strawberry Cake is the perfect thing for right now, right here. Strawberries are all over the NYC greenmarkets (and my CSA), so a summer strawberry cake of some sort was bound to be in order even if we hadn’t picked this for TWD.
This is a lovely simple cake…no fancy buttercreams or anything. Just some lightly sweetened whipped cream and mashed strawberries filling a whole egg sponge cake. The cake is called a genoise in the book, but it’s the only genoise I’ve ever made that doesn’t heat the eggs in the process. The recipe calls for making one tall cake and splitting it into three layers. I made just a half recipe and I thought my little six-inch cake really only needed to be cut into two. This type of sponge cake can be a little dry on its own, but the whipped cream and macerated berries add the moisture that is needed. I think it became even tastier the second day. I can see this being great with raspberry smoosh, too, if you are feeling more English than French (Victoria sponge, anyone)?.
Tags: baking, cake, fruit
May is a good time to be in New York City. People are happy to be out and about. It’s nice sleeping weather (our house doesn’t have A/C, so this is a big thing for me!). And there’s finally more at the greenmarket than tired ol’ potatoes and apples. About the same time I saw the first rhubarb here, my copy of Nigel Slater’s Tender, Volume 2 (called Ripe: A Cook in the Orchard in the US edition). I knew he’d have some good rhubarby ideas for me…this guy has a London city garden that puts my weedy Brooklyn backyard to utter shame. I’ll certainly never have a mini orchard like he does, but maybe one day I’ll have a couple of raised beds for a few homegrown herbs and things. Until then, I’ll have to tote my seasonal fruit and veg home from the market.
Slater’s Rhubarb Cinnamon Polenta Cake would be just as good for breakfast as it is for dessert. It’s made from more of a dough than a batter. The cake is a little crunchy from the cornmeal and perfectly moist, but sturdy enough to support the layer of baked rhubarb that makes a pink stripe in the center. I make a stove-top rhubarb compote a lot when it’s in season, but I kind of like the more hands-off baked method from this recipe, and I’d use it again even if it’s just for my morning granola. The rhubarb more or less keeps its shape when handled this way and you get to pour off the gorgeously pink liquid it releases. Even if I wasn’t going to serve it alongside the polenta cake, I wouldn’t think of pouring this down the drain. Hello, homemade rhubarb sodas, cocktails, yogurt or ice cream drizzle…I could go on.
Rhubarb Cinnamon Polenta Cake– makes an 8-inch cake
adapted from Tender, Volume 2 by Nigel Slater
Note: Use a medium to coarse cornmeal/polenta for the best texture. The cake is fragile when warm, so it’s best to serve it cool, together with the reserved juices from the cooked rhubarb.
for the filling
4 tbsp water
for the cake
125g medium to coarse cornmeal/polenta
200g AP flour
1 tsp baking powder
a pinch of ground cinnamon
grated zest of a small orange
1 large egg
2-4 tbsp milk
1 tbsp demerara sugar
-Lightly butter am 8-inch (20-centimeter) loose-bottomed cake tin, preferably spring-form. Set the oven at 350°F (180°C/gas mark 4). Put in a baking sheet to get hot.
-While your oven is heating, trim the rhubarb, cut each stem into three or four pieces and put them in a baking dish. Scatter over the sugar, toss, and let everything sit until the oven is hot. Sprinkle over the water and bake for about 30 minutes until the rhubarb is soft but still retains its shape. Remove the fruit from the dish and put them in a colander to drain. Reserve the juice to serve with the cake.
-Put the cornmeal/polenta, flour, baking powder, cinnamon and caster sugar in the bowl of a food processor. Add the grated zest and the butter, cut into smallish pieces, then blitz for a few seconds till you have something that resembles breadcrumbs. (You could also do this by hand, rubbing the butter into the polenta with your fingertips as if making pastry.) Break the egg into a small bowl and mix with the milk, then blend into the crumble mix, either with the food processor or by hand. Take care not to over-mix: stop as soon as the ingredients and liquid have come together to form a soft, slightly stickydough. If it isn’t sticky, add a little more liquid.
-Press about two-thirds of the mixture into the cake tin, pushing it a couple of centimetres up the sides with a floured spoon. Place the drained rhubarb on top, leaving a small rim around the edge uncovered. Crumble lumps of the remaining polenta mixture over the fruit with your fingertips, and don’t worry if the rhubarb isn’t all covered. Scatter over the demerara sugar. Bake on the hot baking sheet for 45-50 minutes, then cool a little before attempting to remove from the tin. Serve in slices with the reserved rhubarb juice. You can wrap leftovers in plastic and refrigerate for a couple of days…just bring back to room temperature before serving.