Posts from the ‘baking’ Category
long before Dunkin’ Donuts’ seemingly complete domination of Boston (much like Seattle’s Starbuck’s on every corner), my dad and i would trek to our suburban Dunkin’ to pick up a dozen for our little family. what can i get you, the clerk would say. and dad would consistently reply, yeah, give me six lemon-filled. lemon doughnuts were mom’s favorite. i have no doubt that, given the opportunity, she would have eaten them every single day. they became my favorite, too (copycat), so dad made sure his girls had enough to go around.
mom and grandma
prior to the lemon curd shortage (an apparent byproduct of today’s less-than-generous approach to doughnut-making), mom was able to get a healthy portion of filling with nearly every bite. she’d look up at me, a little bit of powered sugar on the corners of her mouth, which she’d pat daintily with her napkin. giggle. then, consume the only remaining bite. delicious!, she’d proclaim.
like the very best attributes of a lemon—bright and zingy—mom exuded a warmth that others were drawn to. basked in. i can’t tell you how much i miss that sunshine. when she came to live with us in the latter part of her life, i’d occasionally trot home with lemon-filled doughnuts. sure, she enjoyed them. but never as much as when dad arrived triumphantly with a dozen under his arm.
to celebrate what would have been mom’s 92nd birthday, i’ve assembled a menu i think she would have liked:
brisket
a nice loaf of challah (best eva!)
brussel sprouts (simplified this recipe)
noodle kugle
meyer lemon hand pies (crust recipe)
here’s to you, little bird. it’s never as sunny without you here. sending you love and smooches. catch ya on the flip side.
i lost my mom exactly three years ago. since little bird’s passing, the thanksgiving holiday (ever our family’s favorite) has become more of a time of reflection than of feastivity (yeah, not a typo). i stopped preparing that lengthy to-do list and detailed menu that served as the countdown to turkey time (in fact, turkey no longer makes an appearance at our table). i don’t strategize about what time the night before i need to prepare the brioche dough. or when i should bound out of bed the next morning, so the pecan rolls will be ready when everyone else rises for coffee and televised parades. what remains the same is the sense of gratitude i feel for having had her in my life.
both of my zingy girls (mom and Winnie, the adorable, devilish English bull terrier) are gone now. they each had
larger-than life personalities, equally huge hearts and generous spirits. more than once, i caught mom bending down and saying to Winnie, “you are one hot spud.” even in her twilight years, Winnie would respond with much tail-wagging, a few crisp barks of agreement and several speedy laps around the family room. then, of course, would demand a treat—and take a well-deserved snooze. they loved food, me and each other. maybe not exactly in that order.
little bird and Winnie had a zest for life. i’m dedicating this little number to my two, feisty, spicy gingers. until i see you again, keep each other company. love you to the moon and back…
Spicy Gingerbread
a recipe from flour by Joanne Chang
INGREDIENTS
2 sticks butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup light brown sugar, packed
3 tablespoons grated fresh ginger
2 eggs
3 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1 1/2 cups unsulfured molasses
1 cup boiling water
1 teaspoon baking soda
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350°F.
- butter and flour a 9 x 13–inch pan.
- using a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy (2 – 3 minutes); scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl to make sure there are no lumps.
- in a small bowl, whisk together the grated ginger and eggs until blended.
- with the mixer on low speed, add the egg mixture, and beat until just combined.
- scrape the sides and bottom of bowl, then beat on medium speed for 20 – 30 seconds, until mixture is homogenous.
- in a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, salt, ground ginger, pepper, cinnamon and cloves; set aside.
- in another medium bowl, whisk together the molasses, boiling water, and baking soda.
- on the lowest mixer speed, add 1/3 of the flour mixture to the mixture already in the bowl, then beat until incorporated.
- pour in one half of the molasses mixture, and continue to mix at the lowest speed until combined; scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl.
- on the lowest mixer speed, add half of the remaining flour mixture, and beat until incorporated.
- add the remaining molasses mixture, and beat until incorporated.
- stop the mixer, and scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl.
- add the final flour mixture, and beat on low speed for about a minute.
- scrape the batter into the prepared pan.
- bake for 50 – 60 minutes, or until the top of the cake springs back when pressed lightly in the middle.
- let cool in pan on a wire rack.
serve with vanilla-bean whipped cream. let your dog lick the whipped cream off the whisk. give your mom the biggest, bestest piece.
yesterday, i went shopping. it’s something i do now only out of necessity. when mom (a.k.a. little bird) was alive, we went frequently. persistently. at times, ad nauseum. i had to force myself to remember that, to mom (who spent more than 25 years in upscale sales), retail felt like going home.
no matter where we shopped, she proactively sought out sales people in every store—as if they were family. most newbie retail associates tried to avoid her enthusiastic advances (and eye contact). but seasoned comrades, much to mom’s delight, engaged respectfully in conversations. and she took their parting words to come back again soon like invitations from dear friends.
my solo retail outing (mission: to replace ratty old sweaters with new, unratty counterparts) took a surprising turn. i found myself drawn—clearly by some mysterious, magnetic force—to a retail outlet and to a sweater nearly identical to one little bird used to wear religiously. yeah, ok, hers didn’t have a hoodie. and she didn’t wear mens’ sweaters, except for dad’s when she felt a little blue. and i have no intention of wearing a brooch on my sweater. but other than that, we could have been twins. i grabbed the sweater, hugged it tightly to my chest and grinned a big toothy one. even the newbie sales guy at the register seemed to feel the excitement of my discovery and pride in being part of a shiny, new-store family. i think mom would have liked him.
dominant genes: skinny legs, big feet
as the years go by, i catch myself sounding—and looking—just a little bit more like mom. a lilt in my voice (with only a hint of New England accent). a facial expression. a wicked-lame joke. an affinity for a handsome, black and white sweater. and i think (with some modicum of panic), i am becoming my mother. well, dear, the apples don’t fall far from the tree.
if you’re in the mood, crank up Glenn Miller’s rendition of People Like You and Me, get out the flour, and whip up a nicely moist apple cake (recipe just below).
mom would have liked it with a double-dollop of vanilla bean whipped cream. or maybe some vanilla ice cream. or both. from our gene pool: when it comes to dessert, always shoot the moon.
endnote: sincere thanks to those who’ve continued to stop by during this quiet time. losing our beloved Winnie on 17 February left my creative spirit squashed. appreciate your patience as i get my juju back.
Family Tree Apple Cake
based on a recipe from pinch of yum
INGREDIENTS
for the cake
2 1/2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1/3 cup oil (i use sunflower)
1 egg
1 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups chopped apples (i used a mix of Queen Cox and Bramley; if you don’t have access to these, try a nice, tart Granny Smith)
for the topping
2/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons confectioners’ sugar
2/3 cup flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
6 tablespoons butter
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 325°F.
- butter a 10-inch square pan. (if you don’t have this more unusual size [mine is a Emile Henry Urban Colors square baking dish], you could use a 9 x13-inch pan, but the cake wouldn’t be as lofty.)
- to make the topping, in a medium bowl, whisk the confectioners’ sugar, flour, cinnamon and cloves.
- using a pastry blender, cut in the butter (leaving some larger lumps) until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs; set aside.
- to make the cake, in a medium bowl, whisk flour, baking soda and salt.
- in the bowl of a stand mixer, with beater attachment, beat brown sugar and oil until combined.
- add egg, buttermilk and vanilla, and mix until throughly incorporated.
- add the dry ingredients and mix until combined.
- fold in the apples.
- scrape the batter into the prepared pan, spreading out evenly.
- sprinkle the topping evenly over the cake.
- bake cake until golden brown and a tester comes out free of wet batter, about 45 minutes.
- let cake cool in pan on rack, but it’s great served warm.
dominant genes: goofy w/beak
often, simple things delight us most. like watching Elroy’s jowls quiver as he snores through a power nap. or sitting in front of a 1940’s MGM musical with a bowl of butter-drenched popcorn. or a little hike, where you can breathe in crisp, clean Colorado air at 9,300 feet on a sunny, summer day. or those evenings my dad would enthusiastically serve us an appetizer of half a grapefruit, sprinkled liberally with sugar and majestically topped with a maraschino cherry.
it was with that kind of simplicity in mind that i went about to create mom’s birthday tribute dinner. 
i began with her childhood favorite, lamb rib chops. on the occasions i had the privilege to make them for her, our little bird would daintily pick up a diminutive broiled chop and eat every bit—until only the bone remained. she’d then look up and grin that signature grin of pure satisfaction. no lamb in my experience has been as tender and buttery as the Sea Breeze Farm chops i discovered this weekend. i was fortunate to meet the Vashon Island-based Sea Breeze team at the U District Farmers’ Market in Seattle—i appreciate the knowledge they willingly share and admire their farming practices. mom loved meandering through this market; i know she would have adored these chops.
to accompany the lamb, i served grilled asparagus on a bed of fresh linguini—tossed together in a sticky, rich balsamic reduction. simple, for sure, but packed with flavor. i like to think mom would have been grinning from ear to ear had she been at the table with us. she definitely would have enjoyed an accompanying glass of Vignalta Fior d’Arancio Colli Euganei. loved that bubbly.
for dessert, a melt-in-your-mouth Montmorency cherry shortbread cookie, sprinkled with a little organic cane sugar bling. it just wouldn’t be mom, without the bling.
for those of you who revel in the simple things, you can find the basic recipes here:
pasta and asparagus with balsamic reduction (again, i grilled the asparagus)
shortbread cookies (tweaks: roll the dough to 1/2-inch; add 1/2 to 3/4 cup tart, dried cherries to the dough; also consider adding some orange zest, but nix the icing)
i’ll be seeing you in all those old familiar places, little bird. like tonight, i plan to grab a patty melt at our favorite burger joint. not as elegant, perhaps, as our special birthday dinners at Ken’s Steak House or the Wayside Inn (and you can cool believe i won’t be wearing a dress), but my Vanilla Coke toast will be straight from the heart. cranking up 40’s on 4 and sending you a humongous hug and smooches on this birthday and always. with love.
as i sit down to write this post, my mind rushes back to those first, early fall days of school. sitting at my desk, hands folded and donning a new dress (what a little lady) expertly chosen by my mother, i’d hang on every word uttered by my adored teachers. then, at their direction—and this was my favorite part—i’d choose a shiny new, razor-sharp #2 pencil and begin to craft my annual essay about how i spent my summer vacation.
had i been assigned the same teacher two years in a row, she likely would have been lulled into a coma by the redundancy of my essays: 50 percent dedicated to the blast i had at girl scout camp and the remaining 50 percent to the wicked-good times i had with my family at the beach. i was never bored by either.
an older me, sis at the Cape
my parents, younger sister and i spent several summers down the Cape (translation: at Cape Cod, Massachusetts): wonderful, lazy weeks of swimming, combing the beach for sea shells and soaking up sunshine—without the oppression of inland humidity. but some of favorite beach days were spent at Crane’s Beach, on Massachusett’s north shore.
we’d jump out of bed early on a weekend morning and throw on our swimsuits. my dad would back the Impala out of the garage and pack the cooler with ice. then, mom would yell, what kind of sandwiches do you want, peanut butter and jelly? GAG. i think Cheryl wants peanut butter. can i please have bologna? in my mind, i said a bologna prayer. anything to avoid peanut butter.
with sandwiches, chips, sodas and Oreos snuggled inside the cooler, we headed to Crane’s. upon arrival, mom and dad scouted out an ideal location, spread out beach towels and hunkered down with books. my sister took her pail and shovel and began the dig to China. i’d walk down to the shore and up through the garnet sand to the dunes; we’d all take dips in the frigid water to cool down.
in a few hours, mom inevitably declared time for lunch! as inevitably, Cheryl’s peanut butter sandwich attracted sand, and she’d cry. i’d happily sit on my towel, munching on my bologna. in the middle of the afternoon, we’d haul ourselves back to the Impala and make the drive back to suburbia. satisfied with yet another beautiful New England day at the beach.
this summer’s essay: i spent a lot of time at the farmers’ markets, enjoying the amazing weather and cooking up dishes with fresh produce. i made a few pies and grilled a fair amount of pizzas. but didn’t begin baking in earnest until this month. ever on a quest to find a replacement for the dreaded peanut butter, i stumbled upon Artisana nut butters. their team was kind enough to send me some samples, and i decided to test out the pecan butter with a dense, dark chocolate sandwich cookie recipe, reminiscent of our best days at the north shore.
little sis, this one’s for you. infinitely better than what was on your white bread. and now i’ll have some nut butter to put on mine!
Homemade Chocolate Sandwich Cookies
a recipe from the flour cookbook with a slight variation
makes 16 – 18 good-size cookies
plan in advance, as the dough sits in two stages for a total time of at least 3 hours before baking.
INGREDIENTS
for dough
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate, melted and cooled slightly (recipe calls for chips; i used 4 2-ounce Schaffenberger semi-sweet squares)
1 egg
1 1/2 cups organic unbleached all-purpose flour
3/4 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
for nut-butter filling
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup confectioners’ sugar
1/2 cup smooth nut butter (my pecan butter wasn’t completely smooth, but worked well and received kudos from those who snarfed them down and wanted more)
pinch of kosher salt
DIRECTIONS
- in a medium-size bowl, whisk together the butter and granulated sugar until well combined.
- whisk in the vanilla and melted chocolate, then add the egg, and whisk until completely incorporated.
- in another medium-size bowl, mix together the flour, cocoa powder, salt and baking soda.
- using a spoon, stir the flour mixture into the chocolate mixture to form a dough.
- let sit at room temperature for an hour.
- transfer the dough to a 15-inch square of parchment paper.
- shape the dough into a rough log, about 10 inches long and 2 1/2 inches wide.
- roll the parchment paper around the log.
- with the log fully encased in parchment, roll until smooth, maintaining the 2 1/2-inch diameter.
- put in the frig for at least 2 hours or until firm; reroll every 15 minutes or so to maintain the round shape.
- preheat oven to 325 degrees.
- cover baking sheets with parchment paper.
- cut the dough log into 1/4-inch slices, and place them at least 1 inch apart on the baking sheets.
- bake for around 16 – 20 minutes, or until the cookies are firm to the touch. they’re dark, so you won’t be able to see if they’re done by just looking.
- let the cookies cool to room temperature on the baking sheets.
- to make the filling, using a hand mixer, cream the butter on low speed for around 30 seconds, or until soft and smooth.
- add the confectioners’ sugar and beat until the mixture is completely smooth.
- add the nut butter and salt, and beat until smooth.
- scoop one rounded tablespoon of the filling onto the bottom of one cookie.
- top with a second cookie, bottom-side down, then press the cookies together to spread the filling toward the edges.
i sent some of these babies with Tootie to her monthly staff meeting. rumored to be a huge hit (hope you enjoy the recipe, gals!). much like Oreos, a perfect accompaniment to a tall glass of whole organic milk. i bet they’re even better eaten at the beach.
ENDNOTE
alternatively, you can make a vanilla cream filling with the following:
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 2/3 cup confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 tablespoon milk
pinch of kosher salt
i spent a lot of years playing in my school’s marching band. ok, i was a band geek. and darn proud of it. 
whether out on the field or in a parade, decked out in the 1950’s uniforms we inherited from classes long past, or just sitting in a rehearsal, band became my haven and heaven. not merely a class i’d attend during third period, band was the place i fine-tuned my listening skills, developed the discipline of practice and deepened my understanding of and commitment to ensemble. did i mention band meant hanging out with my dearest friends (translation: BFFs)??
the fourth of July and the thought of John Philip Sousa marches brings these warm memories flooding back. if you’re hanging out with family and friends on the 4th, i invite you to bake them this super simple, moist and fruity cake. 
constructed with fresh, juicy and perfect local frog strawberries (any strawberries will do), this cake can help usher in the evening’s fireworks.
i’ll be listening to Sousa marches (more intently to the piccolo parts, of course) and firing up the grill. i might have to turn on the Boston Pops for a few (right, ma?). and i’ll be thinking how amazing it is to live in the U.S.A. what will you be up to? happy 4th!
Stars and Stripes Strawberry Cake
as found on smitten kitchen and adapted from a Martha Stewart recipe
INGREDIENTS
6 tablespoons butter, at room temperature, plus extra for pie plate
1 1/2 cups organic all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 scant cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 large egg
1/2 cup whole organic milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 pound strawberries, hulled and halved
optional topping
heavy whipping cream, vanilla bean and sugar
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350°F.
- butter a 9-inch, deep-dish pie pan or 9-inch cake pan.
- in a small bowl, whisk flour, baking powder and salt.
- in the bowl of a stand mixer, with beater attachment, beat butter and scant 1 cup sugar until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
- add egg, milk and vanilla, and mix until just combined.
- add dry mixture gradually, mixing until just smooth.
- pour cake batter into prepared pie plate.
- as close together as possible, arrange strawberries in a single layer on top of batter, cut side down.
- sprinkle remaining 2 tablespoons sugar over berries.
- bake cake for 10 minutes, then reduce oven temperature to 325°F, and continue to bake cake until golden brown and a tester comes out free of wet batter, about 50 to 60 minutes.
- let cake cool in pan on a rack.
- to serve, cut into wedges, and top with whipped cream infused with vanilla bean.
as mom would say, mmmmmmmmmmmm. enjoy!
there’s an old farm field, a mile or so south of the town where we live. when it rains, large pools of water form in the middle of it. a frequent condition in nearly-always-drenched western Washington. i never thought there was anything extraordinary about that former pumpkin patch—until one dark night in November.
my sister, nieces and i were headed home from hospice, after a visit with my mom. along the stretch of highway between the hospital and the house, we drove with heavy hearts, in silence. suddenly, a great blue heron arose from the field, crossed in front of my windshield—lanky legs dangling in my line of vision—and headed west toward the sound. the next day, my mom passed away.
mom would have found it ironic that i believe she’s been channeled by a stunningly bright blue heron. blue was her least favorite color, an aversion that seemed totally irrational to me: i just don’t like it, she’d say emphatically. yeah, i don’t like beets, but there’s a darn good reason for that; they’re completely disgusting. it took me about 10 years to coerce her into even considering wearing blue jeans. but once she warmed up to the idea—and later in life—she rarely went out in anything else on her bottom half.
now, pink. pink was a color my mom could get behind. 
she gravitated toward all shades of pink equally. so for birthdays and holidays, i kept an eye out for pink gifts: handbags, hats, tank tops, fleece jackets, even candy (who could resist Godiva dark chocolate filled with raspberries??). whatever the season, whatever the reason, pink was in. to celebrate mom this year, i set out to make pink cupcakes loosely based on a revered childhood snack: Hostess Sno Balls. it seemed like a fitting tribute to my mom and to a now-struggling company whose treats had been the shining stars in my Twiggy lunchbox.
lesson learned: my skill sets lay in something less demanding than cupcake creation, like making pies. but i’m sharing the recipe here, for those of you who can hold on to a pastry bag and aren’t challenged by Pantone color-matching frosting. the cupcakes tasted great, but the all-natural food coloring i incorporated lost its rosy glow.
every time i drive by the old farm field, i watch for my blue heron. sometimes i see her there. like i did this mother’s day. i break into a smile and wave. and i get a little teary-eyed. but i was always kind of a sap, right, ma?
Not-So-Pretty in Pink Cupcakes
inspired by a Back in the Day Bakery recipe
a combination of chocolate cupcake and coconut frosting recipes from Joanne Chang’s flour cookbook (as i’ve said previously, an absolutely fabulous, gotta-have volume)
makes 12 moist dark chocolatey cupcakes
INGREDIENTS
for the cupcakes
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1/4 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1/3 cup water
1/2 cup whole organic milk
1 egg
1 egg yolk (save the egg white)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup organic all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
for the frosting
3/4 cups sugar
3 eggs whites (use the egg white saved from the batter recipe)
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) butter, at room temperature, cut into 2-inch chunks
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup coconut milk
for the topping
2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
DIRECTIONS
- place paper cupcake liners in a standard 12-cup muffin tin.
- in a medium-size heatproof bowl, combine the chocolate and the cocoa powder.
- in a small saucepan, combine the sugar, butter and water.
- over medium-high heat, whisk until the butter is melted and sugar dissolved, around 3 to 4 minutes.
- pour the hot butter mixture over the chocolate-cocoa, and whisk until the chocolate is completely melted, and the mixture is homogenous.
- then whisk the milk, egg, egg yolk and vanilla into the chocolate mixture, until thoroughly combined.
- in a small bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
- dump the flour mixture on top of the chocolate mixture, and whisk until the dry ingredients are completely incorporated into the chocolate mixture.
- let the batter sit at room temperature for at least an hour. or transfer to an airtight container, and store in the frig for up to three days.
- preheat the oven to 350F.
- spoon the batter into the prepared cups, dividing the batter evenly.
- bake on center rack of oven for 20 to 30 minutes, until the tops spring back.
- cool completely on a wire rack.
- to make the frosting, in a small heatproof bowl, whisk the sugar and egg whites to form a thick slurry.
- place the bowl over simmering water (should not touch the water) in a saucepan and heat, whisking occasionally, until the mixture is hot to the touch, around 6 to 8 minutes.
- remove the bowl from the heat, and scrape the mixture into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a whip attachment.
- whip on medium-high speed for 6 to 8 minutes, or until the mixture becomes a light, white meringue, cool to the touch. (i whipped until soft peaks just began to form, which seemed to work.)
- on low speed, add the chunks of butter, a few at a time.
- increase the speed to medium, and mix for 4 to 5 minutes, or until the butter is completely incorporated; the mixture should look smooth and glossy. at first it looks as if it’s curdling, but don’t panic. just keep going until it smooths out.
- add the vanilla, salt and coconut milk, and whip until the coconut milk is completely incorporated, and the frosting is smooth. you may need to scrape the bottom of the bowl in the process.
- remove the cupcakes from the muffin tin.
- hollow the center with an apple corer, going down a little shy of 1 inch.
- fit a pastry bag with a round tip, fill the bag, then pipe the frosting into the center of the cupcakes.
- if you’re brave and have the appropriate kind of food coloring, add to the remaining frosting until you’ve achieved the appropriate shade of pink.
- for prettier cupcakes, fit the pasty bag with a star tip, refill with the pink frosting, and decorate the cakes.
- alternatively, spread the frosting on the cupcakes with an icing spatula. (i employed this method as it made the cupcakes look more like Sno Balls.)
- place the shredded coconut in a small bowl.
- gently roll the frosted cupcakes in the shredded coconut.
when i was in high school, my dad and i acted out the same scene from our family play nearly every Friday night. he’d be sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. i’d walk in and put my hand on his shoulder. hey, dad. mom’s gonna be home in about an hour. what do you want to do for dinner? any other day of the week, he’d already have something simmering on the stove. but not on Friday. dad would look up at me over his reading glasses and say, as if it were an epiphany, how about getting a pizza? my lines: that’s a great idea! what kind should we get? dad’s line: well, your mother likes anchovies. seriously? my lines: that’s gross. let’s just get them on half. then one of us would move stage left, pick up the hand set of our avocado-colored wall phone (a chic complement to our major appliances) and dial Liberty Pizza.
to me, Liberty Pizza was the closest thing to pizza heaven in the galaxy. small and local, the staff took great pride in their craft and product. on Friday nights, Liberty’s was hopping. my dad would pull up in his VW, squeezing into any space that remotely resembled a parking spot; i’d run in to pickup our large Liberty’s special. to this day, my mouth waters just thinking about it. as an undergraduate home on holiday breaks, my parents would ask, well, where would you like to go out to eat first? they’d excitedly—and predictably—suggest very nice restaurants, where we could all dress up for a night out on the town (and i would strenuously object to wearing anything but jeans). but i’d just as enthusiastically and religiously reply, Liberty’s! faces fallen, but ever-supportive, the curtain would go up on an encore performance of the family pizza play.
over the many years my parents lived in our childhood home, visits meant having a least one delicious pie from Liberty Pizza. i’ve regularly experimented with pizza recipes, but all have paled in comparison to Liberty’s. until last Friday night, when i discovered the most wonderful, the most perfect pizza dough i’ve ever eaten. the texture: crispy on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside. i topped my first effort with scant amounts of whole-milk mozzarella and thin slices of red onion, Fresno peppers and Finocchiona salami. this week, as my next batch of dough is rising, i’m roasting garlic to use as my featured topping.
perhaps i was channeling my dad. or thinking back fondly on those dad and daughter runs to Liberty’s. as mom and i used to say (giggling and simultaneously), it was definitely serendipitous. i’m dedicating this post to my friend Mary-Ellen, whose love and appreciation for family, uplifting spirit and geographic proximity to Liberty Pizza command admiration, respect and a little green envy.
No-Knead Pizza Dough
based on a Jim Lahey recipe, published in bon appetit
makes two good-size, thicker pizza crusts (if you like your pizza crust thinner, divide the dough in thirds, rather than in half and stretch!)
this dough needs to ferment for 12 – 18 hours, so plan accordingly.
UPDATE – 13 April 2012: i’ve experimented with the pizza dough recipe several times and suggest a scant 3 1/2 cups flour to make the dough easier to wrangle. volume of flour lands between the quantity recommended in bon appetit and Jim Lahey’s My Pizza cookbook.
INGREDIENTS
3 1/2 (scant) cups all-purpose, organic flour, more for dusting
1⁄4 teaspoon active dry yeast
2 teaspoons sea salt
1 1⁄2 cups water
corn meal
olive oil
DIRECTIONS
- very lightly coat a medium-size bowl with olive oil; set aside.
- in the bowl of a stand mixer, hand-whisk the the flour, yeast and salt. alternatively, mix everything together for steps 2 and 3 in a large bowl with your hands or with a silicon spoon. just easier for me with the stand mixer.
- with the dough hook attachment in place, add the water and mix until the dough comes together. it will be extremely sticky and seem, well, unseemly for dough. be careful not to overwork it.
- gather the dough and place in the oiled bowl.
- cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let rest for 12 – 18 hours at a room temperature of 72°.
- when the dough’s surface is covered with bubbles (mine had large and small) and it has doubled in bulk, transfer it to a lightly floured work surface; sprinkle the top of the dough with flour.
- gently shape the dough into a rectangle.
- divide the dough in half; keep one half of the dough covered with plastic wrap, until you’re ready to work with it.
- take one half of the dough and fold each of the four corners into the center.
- with the seam side down, gently form into a ball, and dust with flour.
- repeat with the other half of the dough.
- cover each ball with plastic wrap and let rest at room temperature (72°) for 1 – 2 hours.
- while the dough is rising, preheat oven to 475°.
- sprinkle a large baking sheet lightly with corn meal; set aside.
- very gently shape one of the balls into a 12-inch disc, preserving as many of the bubbles as possible.
- place the dough on the baking sheet and stretch into desired shape. the dough will likely be more abstract/oblong than round.
- drizzle olive oil lightly over dough, then cover with the toppings of your choice.
- bake until bottom and top are golden brown, around 15 minutes.
- repeat with remaining dough.
after a recent, merciless pummeling of snow, it felt like an appropriate time to pass on some ideas for blizzard fare.
i live in the lowlands of the Pacific Northwest. so, you may be wondering if i’m truly qualified to give this sort of advice. simply put, yes. transplanted from New England and later in life, from the Colorado mountains, i can confidently say i’m not only casually familiar with the white stuff, we’re intimate.
a million years before i learned to drive, had to go to work, or really had a care in the world, i adored winter weather. when brutal Nor’easters blew in and dumped multitudinous foots of snow, i was elated.
with dad, before i told my mother she could no longer choose my clothes
it meant my dad could stay home and dedicate himself to pulling us around on our sled. before he could proceed with the entertainment, however, he would need to shovel. a lot.
at 6’ 2”, my dad towered over us. with agility and strength, he shoveled and tossed the weighty snow on either side of our driveway; the piles seemed to dwarf even him. after a while, dad had created a big enough heap for me to build an elegantly appointed snow cave.
climbing onto a giant snow bank, i enthusiastically started to dig. soon, the entry took shape, and i moved to carve out a living area. i snuggled inside my new quarters, pulling my knees to my chest. supremely satisfied with my expert craftsmanship, i basked in the snow cave’s blue aura. when my little sister asked if she could come in, she was met with a resounding no. when my mother came out with a mug of hot chocolate and a cheese sandwich, she was met with a resounding yes, please. (after lunch, i invited my sister to hunker down in the cave with me, but clearly only after i asserted claim to my icy domain.)
snow cave architect-in-training
if you’re out there building a snow cave or manuvering down some hill on your flying saucer, treat yourself to something hot and hearty, because there will undoubtedly be a lot more playing to do. always have a napkin close by to daintily dab the corners of your mouth. and never use metal utensils.
snow cave sausage hand pies
a variation on recipes from Alton Brown, and in pie by Angela Boggiano
INGREDIENTS
for the crust
1/2 pound (two sticks) of good-quality butter, very cold, chopped
1/8 cup of sugar
3/4 tsp spoon salt
1/2 cup (or more if needed) ice water
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
for the sausage
2 pounds ground pork
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 teaspoons freshly ground pepper (i use Williams-Sonoma five-pepper blend)
1 1/2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh sage leaves
2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh thyme leaves
1/2 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary leaves
1 tablespoon light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cayenne
1/2 teaspoon marjoram
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
for the filling
1 pound sausage (from above)
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium-size onions
1 tablespoon wholegrain mustard
1 teaspoon finely chopped thyme leaves
1 medium tart apple, cored and chopped (i use Bramley or Granny Smith)
3 tablespoons creme fraiche or sour cream
salt and pepper
one egg, lightly beaten
DIRECTIONS
- whisk together the dry ingredients for the crust.
- with a pastry blender, combine the dry ingredients with the cold, chopped butter; be careful not to overwork.
- combine the ice water and vinegar; slowly add to the butter mixture by hand, being careful not to overwork.
- divide the pie dough into two discs, wrap in plastic and chill for at least one hour.
- combine all of the sausage ingredients and mix together well by hand; set aside 1 pound for the hand pies (i freeze the remainder or immediately make into sausage patties.)
- in a medium skillet over medium-low heat, heat the olive oil.
- add the onions and cook until the onions caramelize.
- in a large skillet, brown the sausage, breaking up into small pieces until completely cooked.
- in a large bowl, combine the sausage, onions, mustard, thyme, apples and creme fraiche.
- season with salt and pepper, then mix well and let cool.
- preheat the oven to 375.
- roll out one of the dough discs, as if you were making a standard 9-inch pie crust.
- cut 7-inch rounds of dough out of the larger disc (i use a small plate as a stencil.)
- brush the edges of the small round with the egg wash.
- place 2 or so tablespoons of the cooled filling in the middle of the the round.
- fold over the round to form a half-moon, then press the edges together to seal.
- crimp the edge with a fork to further seal the deal.
- place the hand pie on a large rimmed baking sheet and cut several slashes in the top of the pie to vent.
- brush the pie with the egg wash.
- repeat the process until all the dough has been used. (pies should be placed around an inch apart.)
- bake until the pies are golden brown, about 20 minutes.
serve with roasted apple sauce, cheesy mashed potatoes and a green vegetable of choice (if you’re so inclined).
after a year, i still can’t believe my mom is gone. it just feels like she’s back in New England, and we’ll be seeing each other again soon.
i spent this weekend doing those things we enjoyed together. with Tootie in tow, we began our journey at a local nursery, progressed to mom’s favorite shopping mall and stores, grabbed a bite of Asian fusion. we bought the ingredients to make her favorite meals: my top-secret chile recipe, lamb rib chops with roasted herb fingerlings and bacon-laden brussel sprouts, perfect northwest mac and cheese. i cooked all of it, and we raised our glasses to toast her.
the truth is, in the year since mom’s passing, there have been more downs than ups (reminds me of the Upson Downs schtick in Auntie Mame, which we watched countless times). sometimes i call her to let her know i’m on the way home. sometimes i make way too much food. sometimes i just stand in her room, breathing in the essence that lingers in the air. always, i set a place for her at the table.
i’ve found solace and joy in shaping pie dough and in tweaking new baked-goods’ recipes. i remember how mom’s face would light up with an adorable expression when she tasted something she thought was mmmmm (translation: yummy). the very last thing i baked for mom elicited that kind of enthusiasm: a cinnamon roll based on a brioche recipe from Joanne Chang, Flour Bakery + Cafe.
mom and i had seen Boston-based Chef Chang on an episode of Food Network‘s Throwdown (her sticky buns whooped Bobby Flay’s, btw). mom was thrilled that Chang’s bakery was in Bean Town. i was thrilled with the anticipation of exploring an amazing sticky bun recipe. i immediately placed an order for Chang’s soon-to-be printed cookbook. (if you’re looking for a well-written, conversational baking book, with delicious fare, flour is definitely it. would highly recommend as a must-have.)
as part of my homage to mom (who at 80-plus still remembered her high school French), you’ll find the recipe for little bird cinnamon rolls here.
today, might head down to Pike Place Market, grab some chai at Starbuck’s original storefront, and pick up a rhubarb or white chocolate and cherry piroshky. wherever i go, i’ll be missing you, little bird.
little bird cinnamon rolls
makes 8 healthy-size rolls
INGREDIENTS
for the dough (based on Joanne Chang’s basic brioche)
2 1/4 cups organic all-purpose flour
2 1/4 cups bread flour
3 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast
1/3 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon salt
1/2 cup cold water
5 eggs
1 cup plus 6 tablespoons euro butter, at room temperature, cut into 12 pieces
for the filling
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
8 tablespoons cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
pinch of salt
2 1/2 tablespoons melted butter
1/2 tablespoon melted butter
1/3 cup dried currants (optional)
for the frosting
8 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
4 tablespoons honey (modify this based on your desired sweetness level)
1 teaspoon vanilla paste (or vanilla extract)
DIRECTIONS
- butter a large bowl; set aside.
- in the bowl of a stand mixer, add the all-purpose flour, bread flour, yeast, sugar, salt, water and eggs.
- using the dough hook, beat the ingredients on low speed, until they come together, around 5 minutes. (scrape down the sides of the bowl, as needed.)
- after the dough has come together, continue to beat for another 4 minutes; the dough will be dry/stiff.
- on low speed, add the butter one piece at a time; make sure the butter has been incorporated into the dough, before you add another piece.
- once all the butter has been added, beat on low for 10 minutes, until all the butter has become one with the dough.
- after the butter is thoroughly incorporated, beat on medium speed for another 15 minutes, until the dough is soft and shiny. this takes a while, so be patient and vigilant; it will happen.
- with the dough in its now-smooth and shiny state, beat on medium-high for 1 minute, until the dough, when tested, stretches and can give a little.
- gather up the dough and place in the large bowl.
- cover with plastic wrap (so it’s touching the surface of the dough).
- place in the fridge for 6 hours or overnight to proof. (i do the latter, then get up in the morning and move to the next step, so we have fresh rolls for breakfast.)
- butter a 9 x 13-inch baking dish; set aside.
- in a medium bowl, mix the dark brown sugar, granulated sugar, cinnamon, cloves, salt and 2 1/2 tablespoons butter, until it becomes a sort of paste; set aside.
- on a floured work surface, roll out the dough into a 12 x 16-inch rectangle, 1/4-inch thick.
- with a brush (i use silicon), spread the 1/2 tablespoon butter over the surface of the dough.
- evenly spread the filling paste over the entire surface of the dough, pressing down gently with your hand.
- sprinkle on the currants, if using, then press in gently.
- beginning with the short side of the dough, roll tightly to create a spiral with the filling.
- pinch very gently to seal the log.
- even the ends of the dough log, by trimming with a bench scraper.
- cut log into 8 even pieces, around 1 1/2 inches wide.
- evenly space the rolls in the baking dish, and cover with plastic wrap.
- let the dough rise in a warm place for around 2 hours or until they’re touching and puffy.
- preheat oven to 350F.
- bake the rolls on the middle rack until golden brown (this takes only 22 minutes in my oven), around 30 minutes.
- while the rolls are baking, prepare the frosting.
- with a hand mixer fitted with a beater attachment, mix the cream cheese until it’s fluffy.
- add the honey and vanilla paste, and continue to beat until smooth and completely incorporated; set aside.
- let the rolls cool in the baking dish for 20 minutes (so the frosting doesn’t completely melt, when you spread it on).
- spread the frosting over the tops of the rolls.
serve with a good cup of coffee (or tea, of course). crank up the Ink Spots Java Jive, and kick back. coming at you, ma, Air Mail Special. love you always.
littlebirdbaking.com 