Posts from the ‘baking’ Category
my friend Lourdes exudes a burning passion for baseball. she gives thanks for the end of football season because it means spring training looms on the horizon. when i was small, my dad took me and my sister to watch the Red Sox play at Fenway Park; i fell asleep during the game. that feeling of being lulled into a coma lives on. but lately i’ve been thinking about being thrown a curve ball. or two. when life doesn’t unfold exactly as i’d planned. or hoped.
at these times, i have to remember to embrace the sweet things. like a handsome bulldog raising his heavy head up for a little scratch behind the ears. a sunny day in February, unseasonally warm enough to jump on the tractor and mow the lawn for the first time in months. a crisp, clear night, where Cassiopeia dangles just above the backyard tree line, twinkling like a shiny mobile. a winter run of California strawberries so red, plump and fragrant that i’m inspired to to break out—and experiment with—a new shortcake recipe. which is exactly what i did.
an integration of two different shortcake recipes, the end result offers a deep chocolate flavor and feels light while retaining a dense texture. who could go awry when fusing strawberries, chocolate and whipped cream?
for my friends and family (my mother is still a HUGE Red Sox fan; i picked her up a pink Sox cap on my last trip to Bean Town) who are baseball fanatics, go whomever! for the rest of us, enjoy whatever the fairer weather brings.
Chocolate Strawberry Shortcakes
a variation based on recipes from The Best of fine Cooking Chocolate! and from Cross Creek Cookery
INGREDIENTS
for the dough
2 1/4 cups organic white flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar, plus some for sprinkling
4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder, plus three tablespoons (i used Green & Black’s organic cocoa powder)
8 tablespoons organic butter
6 1/2 ounces semisweet chocolate, grated or finely chopped; more for garnish
3/4 cup heavy cream, plus 3 tablespoons for brushing
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 egg, well beaten
for the topping
4 – 5 cups strawberries, cut in 1/2-inch thick slices (around 3 pints)
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
DIRECTIONS
- line a heavy baking sheet with parchment paper.
- in a medium bowl, whisk the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and cocoa powder.
- cut the butter into the dry ingredients, until the largest pieces of butter are the size of peas.
- add the grated chocolate, and toss to combine.
- in a liquid measure, combine the heavy cream, vanilla and egg.
- make a well in the center of the flour mixture, then pour in the liquid ingredients.
- mix with a fork until the dough is evenly moistened and just combined; it should look shaggy and still feel a little dry.
- while the dough remains in the mixing bowl, gently knead by hand to pick up any dry ingredients remaining in the bottom of the bowl, then form the dough into a loose ball.
- turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and pat it into an 8-inch square, 3/4- to 1-inch thick.
- transfer dough to the parchment-lined baking sheet, cover with plastic wrap and chill for 20 minutes.
- preheat oven to 400F.
- remove dough from fridge, and trim about 1/4 inch from each side to create a neat, sharp edge (i used a pastry scraper to do this).
- cut the dough into 9 even squares, each about 2 1/2 inches square.
- spread the dough squares two inches apart on the baking sheet.
- brush each shortcake with a thin layer of cream; sprinkle generously with sugar.
- bake until the shortcakes are mostly firm to the touch, about 18 minutes.
- pour the cream into a small, cold mixing bowl, and beat with a hand mixer until the cream begins to thicken.
- add the sugar and vanilla, then whisk by hand until the cream is softly whipped or until the whisk leaves distinct marks in the cream. it should be soft and billowy, but still holds its shape.
- while the shortcakes are still warm, split them in half horizontally with a serrated knife.
- for each serving, set the bottom of the shortcake on a plate, covering with 1/2 cup of strawberries; add a generous dollop of whipped cream, then cover with top of shortcake.
some people like to sprinkle sugar on the strawberries and let it sink in to sweeten, before placing on the shortcakes; i think this recipe is sweet enough without doing so. - top each shortcake with another dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkling of grated chocolate.
i love working with dough. a clear throwback from my Play-Doh period, in which i immersed myself in sculpting the brightly colored, salty-tasting goop into unrecognizable shapes. the other day, i felt the urge to craft something a bit more practical, easily identifiable and with a significantly improved flavor profile.
as i contemplated my packets of yeast, i recalled a particular conversation between my dear childhood friend Harriet and her mom, Mrs. Welsch. the chat centered on Harriet’s school-lunch preferences. ‘”Wouldn’t you like to try a ham sandwich, or egg salad or peanut butter?’ Her mother looked quizzically at Harriet while the cook stood next to the table looking enraged. “Tomato,” said Harriet not even looking up from the book she was reading at breakfast. “Stop reading at the table.” Harriet put the book down. “Listen Harriet, you’ve taken a tomato sandwich to school every day for five years. Don’t you get tired of them? ” “No.”‘
yes, ok. so, Harriet is a fictional character (aka Harriet the Spy, created by author Louise Fitzhugh), and as a voracious young reader, i probably spent more time in my tree house lulling away the hours with her (and other fictional favorites) than with living, breathing humans. to toast Harriet , her love of tomato sandwiches and our common bond of faithfully following our respective true norths, i elected to bake a simple, hearty loaf of white bread. the perfect canvas on which to slather mayo and gently place the revered tomato and sorry, Harriet, a few strips of bacon from Skagit River Ranch.
Classic White Bread
a variation based on a recipe from Martha Stewart Living
makes 2 loaves
i found the amount of coarse salt in the original recipe to be completely overpowering, so i cut the suggested quantity in half. i also increased the amount of honey to give the loaf a sweet finish.
INGREDIENTS
2 1/4-ounce packets active dry yeast
2 1/4 cups warm water (110 degrees)
4 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons honey
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted, plus more for bowl and pans
7 cups organic white flour
1 short tablespoon coarse salt
DIRECTIONS
- butter a large bowl (for the initial rise) and 2 loaf pans; set aside.
- in a measuring cup, sprinkle yeast over 1/2 cup warm water.
- add two teaspoons of honey to mixture and whisk until yeast dissolves.
- let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes.
- transfer mixture to the bowl of a stand mixer.
- add melted butter and remaining 1 3/4 cups warm water and 4 tablespoons honey.
- whisk flour and salt in an another bowl, then add 3 cups of these dry ingredients to the stand-mixer bowl and combine on low speed until smooth.
- add remaining 4 cups of dry ingredients 1 cup at a time, mixing until dough pulls away from sides of bowl and forms a ragged, slightly sticky ball.
- knead the dough on a floured surface until smooth and elastic (my favorite part of the process!), but still slightly tacky, about 5 minutes.
- shape into a ball, transfer to bowl and cover with plastic wrap.
- let the dough stands in a warm place until it doubles in volume, about 1 hour. the dough shouldn’t spring back when pressed.
- punch dough down, and divide in half.
- shape 1 dough half into an 8 1/2-inch-long rectangle, about 1/2-inch thick.
- fold along sides of dough into middle, overlapping slightly; press seam to seal.
- transfer dough, seam side, down to loaf pan.
- repeat with remaining dough.
- brush each loaf with melted butter, or dust with flour for a more rustic look.
- drape loaves with plastic wrap and let stand in a warm place until the dough rises about 1 inch above tops of pans, 45 minutes to 1 hour.
- preheat oven to 400F.
- bake, rotating pans after 10 minutes, until tops of loaves are golden brown, about 20 minutes. recipe indicates total cooking time of 45 minutes; my loaves were done in less than half the time.
with any remnants of your loaves, consider making thick slices of cinnamon-orange french toast, topped with Vermont maple syrup. i haven’t regretted the indulgence for a single second.
a cooler filled with bologna sandwiches, made with Wonder bread and slathered in French’s mustard. brightly colored pails and shovels. ditto beach towels. Bain de Soleil and zinc oxide. diametrical sun-exposure philosophies. four little girls and two moms in one-piece swimsuits and flip flops, all tucked snugly in an aqua-colored 1963 VW Beetle. headed for an adventure at a nearby lake, it was apparent someone in the back seat wasn’t very happy.
arms crossed over her chest and bottom lip stuck out in a pout, our next-door neighbor’s eldest daughter—then about age seven—wedged herself against the tiny rear window of the car and squinted at the passing scenery. don’t be such a sourpuss, her mom teased. the squint turned into a glare. i didn’t know what had transpired prior to our departure to warrant this gloomy state.
it took us only a few minutes to arrive at our destination, not enough time for a 180 on the mood. we piled out of the VW, grabbing beach gear and running toward the water with it. our sourpuss lagged behind, her mom grabbing her around the waist in an attempt to tickle her into happy submission. no dice. when you are ready to be civil, you can join the rest of us, her mom said quietly, applying a calm, matter-of-fact approach.
i got into the water and began to swim; my sister and her younger friend dug holes in the sand. a very exciting proposition for a three- and a four-year-old. the moms kept their eyes on us, as they chatted incessantly. sourpuss remained on the periphery, kicking a little sand up with her feet, lip still protruding. soon it came time for lunch, and even she could not resist the fabulous meal the moms extracted from the cooler. i actually think she became weary of solitary confinement. we all ate and laughed and went for a walk on the beach to comb for whatever. it was, after all, a manmade lake.
the six of us shared many wonderful adventures over the years. yes, we all had our little quirks. but they never tarnished the sheer joy of hanging out together. to celebrate sourpuss memories, i baked a tart and tangy, yet sweet, coffee cake. filled with robust lemon flavor and that zing of tart cherries. then i sat back with a cup of tea, a moist piece of cake drizzled with icing and wrapped myself in those good times. hope you can take some time to do the same.
Lemon–Sour Cherry Coffee Cake
a recipe from Leslie Mackie’s Macrina Bakery & Cafe Cookbook
INGREDIENTS
for the cake
1 1/2 cups dried tart cherries
4 cups unbleached organic flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature
2 1/4 cups granulated sugar
3 tablespoons freshly grated lemon zest
5 eggs
1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (i had Meyer lemons, so used those)
1 cup plain yogurt
for the glaze
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
2 teaspoons freshly grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 325F.
- oil a 12-cup bundt pan.
- place the dried cherries in a medium bowl, and cover with hot tap water.
- let the cherries soak for 10 minutes, then drain thoroughly; set aside.
- sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt into a large bowl; toss with your hands and set aside.
- combine the butter, sugar and lemon zest in the bowl of a stand mixer.
- using the paddle attachment, mix on medium speed for 5 to 8 minutes, until the mixture becomes smooth and pale in color.
- add the eggs one at a time, making sure each egg is fully incorporated before adding another.
- after all the eggs have been incorporated into the batter, slowly add the lemon juice, and mix for 1 more minute.
- scrape down the sides of the bowl, and mix for 30 more seconds.
- remove the bowl from the mixer (i actually didn’t do this, and the cake seems perfectly swell), and alternately add small amounts of the flour mixture and the yogurt to the batter, mixing with a wooden spoon until add dry ingredients are incorporated.
- set aside 10 – 12 cherries for garnish, then gently fold the remaining cherries into the batter. be careful not to overmix.
- pour the batter into the prepared bundt pan, filling two-thirds of the pan.
- bake on center rack of the oven for 1 hour and 10 minutes, or until the top of the cake is golden brown.
- check the center of the cake with a skewer; if it comes out clean, the cake is done.
- cool the cake on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes.
- loosen the sides of the cake with a sharp knife (i didn’t need to do this; it fell right out of the non-stick NordicWare bundt pan), the place a serving plate upside down, on top of the cooled bundt pan.
- invert the pan to remove the cake, and let it cool completely.
- sift the confectioners’ sugar into a medium bowl; add the lemon zest and lemon juice.
- mix with a spoon until smooth, then drizzle over the cooled coffee cake.
- top with the reserved plump cherries.
a few days ago, NPR broadcasted an interview with The Atlantic National Correspondent Jeffrey Goldberg, who commented on the genesis of Utah (R) Senior Senator Orrin Hatch’s new Chanukah composition (watch the studio music video). whatever your religious or political beliefs, i’m taking the high road to say the senator’s effort was a thoughtful gesture, however musically underwhelming.
while my mom and i are more aligned in our political philosophies than in our faiths, i wanted to extend my own heartfelt Chanukah gesture by creating a little dinner (we’d had a rather hefty lunch) reminiscent of her childhood. over the years, she’s shared stories about her father, Julius, who regularly made the family latkes (in fact, i’ve been using his recipe for decades); i knew some kind of potato pancake needed to be part of the plan. her dad served them with applesauce, another natural addition to the menu. finally, to address my mom’s love of yeast-based breads, challah would serve as the complement to our light meal.
the first step: find the right challah recipe. sweet, but not as in a dessert. tender, based on the appropriate amount of eggs and fat content. after culling through my cookbooks, i decided to put my trust in the anal editors of Cook’s Illustrated. after our taste-tasting, i have to report that, while verbose (takes one to know one), the editorial team didn’t lead me astray. for the applesauce, i found a phenomenal oven-roasted recipe on Martha Stewart’s site: it’s simple, with a nice layering of flavors from the combination of spices and the varieties of heirloom apples i used, skins on. i gave the latke recipe a little twist by choosing garnet yams, instead of Yukon golds. 
of course, my mother thought i was serving her carrots. but i imagine there are few 87-year-olds with 20-20 vision. i’ll be hearing from some opthomologists on that topic.
dinner was a smashing success—once we got past the carrot discussion. i trotted out a few little gifts to combat the frigid Northwest temps, like some toasty, sherpa-lined shoes she can kick around in. and a magenta hat trimmed with black buttons to go with her new black pea coat. who says there’s an age cap on the role of fashionista? certainly not my mother.
Challah
a recipe from The New Best Recipe, All-New Edition
makes one large loaf
INGREDIENTS
3 – 3 1/4 cups unbleached organic flour, plus more for dusting the work surface
1 envelope (1/4 ounce) active dry yeast
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
2 large eggs, plus 1 egg separated (reserve the white for the egg wash)
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) butter, melted
1/2 cup water, plus 1 tablespoon, at room temperature
1 teaspoon poppy or sesame seeds (optional)
DIRECTIONS
- in a medium bowl, whisk together 3 cups of flour, the yeast, sugar and salt; set aside.
- in the bowl of a stand mixer, combine the 2 eggs, egg yolk, melted butter and 1/2 cup water.
- using the dough hook, add the flour mixture to the wet ingredients.
- knead at low speed until a ball forms, about 5 minutes. add the extra flour 1 tablespoon at a time, only if needed.
- place the dough in a very lightly oiled bowl, turning the dough over to coat.
- cover with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, 1 1/2 to 2 hours.
- in a small bowl whisk the egg white with the remaining tablespoon of water; cover and refrigerate, until you’re ready to use.
- when the dough has doubled, gently press down to deflate.
- cover again with plastic wrap and let rise again until double, 40 to 60 minutes.
- transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface, and divide dough into 3 equal pieces (the actual recipe has more intricate instruction for braiding, but i kept it simple).
- roll each piece of dough into a 16-inch-long rope, about 1 inch in diameter.
- line up the ropes side by side, and braid them together, pinching the ends of the braid to seal them.
- place the braid on a lightly greased baking sheet, loosely drape the loaf with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until the loaf becomes puffy and increases in size by a third, 30 to 40 minutes.
- adjust oven rack to the lower-middle position, and preheat oven to 375F (my oven tends to run hot, so i chose 350F).
- brush the loaf with the egg wash and sprinkle with seeds, if you’ve chosen to use them.
- bake until golden brown, about 30 to 40 minutes (i cooked for about 20 minutes, and the loaf was done).
- place the baking sheet on a wire rack, and let the challah cool completely before slicing.
- adjust oven rack to the lower-middle position
Roasted Applesauce
a recipe from Martha Stewart Living
makes eight 1/2-cup servings
INGREDIENTS
1/4 cup water
6 tablespoons packed light-brown sugar
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
a pinch of coarse salt
2 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces
3 pounds small assorted apples, about 10, cored (i used a mix of King David, Waltana, Gravenstein and Golden Russet, which created a more tart applesauce…yum!)
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
a pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
a hefty pinch of ground cloves
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 425F.
- combine water, sugar, lemon juice and salt in a 9 x 13-inch baking dish.
- core apples (the heirloom apples didn’t need to be peeled).
- scatter butter pieces over mixture; top with apples.
- roast until apples are very soft, 30 to 40 minutes.
- working in batches, pass the apple mixture through the medium disk of a food mill and into a bowl. (um, i don’t have a food mill, so i pureed the batches in my KitchenAid blender. alternatively, try a food processor.)
- serve warm, at room temperature or chilled.
the applesauce can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 5 days.
Juli’s Sweet Potato Latkes
makes 8 latkes
INGREDIENTS
one large sweet potato, grated (ok, not technically; i used a garnet yam)
1/2 small yellow onion, chopped
2 large eggs
3 heaping tablespoons flour
salt and pepper
3 tablespoons grapeseed oil
DIRECTIONS
- in a medium bowl, combine grated sweet potatoes and chopped onions.
- add eggs and stir until well integrated.
- add flour and mix until well combined.
- add salt and pepper.
- let the mixture rest for about 10 minutes.
- heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat.
- cook the latkes on each side until golden brown.
- serve warm, with roasted apple sauce and/or sour cream.
i’ve clearly spent too much time away from the kitchen (and this blog) since the Thanksgiving holiday. while leftovers can be divine, i need to get off the sofa and back to cooking. but before i move forward (or upward), i want to share one more holiday tradition that’s cherished above all others: the pecan roll.
when i recall childhood Thanksgivings at my uncle’s home (the family gathering place), two food-related items come immediately to mind: drumsticks, one of which my uncle embossed with my name each year (i kind of think the other leg was allocated to my cousin Pete), and pecan rolls, which arrived in delightful boxes, fresh from a local bakery. fixated on this delicious duo, i remained unconcerned about anything else my aunt worked lovingly and laboriously to serve.
i’d generously slather the sticky, sweet pecan rolls with butter—taking a gooey little bite with my left hand, then i’d turn my attention to wrestling the too-big turkey leg with my right hand. ever tidy, in a lovely (and prissy) velvet dress (my mom and sister had dresses of matching fabric), i’d genteelly dab the corners of my mouth with my napkin. (the entire experience an apparent catalyst for spending most of my undergraduate years and beyond in flannel, jeans and hiking boots; i did keep a bandana in my back pocket to maintain my fastidious demeanor.)
whatever the genesis for your family holiday traditions, Thanksgivings with my uncle (an incredible jazz musician, sculptor, radio and television pioneer, Corvette-empassioned bohemian) set the annual baking of pecan rolls at my house into motion. these sticky, rich, easy-to-make rolls disappear fast, so grab one for yourself before it’s too late. not even Nancy, George and Bess will be able to unearth a single one.
Pecan Rolls
a variation based on combined recipes from Country Inn and Bed & Breakfast Cookbook and Better Homes and Gardens Old-Fashioned Baking
INGREDIENTS
for the dough
2 cups scalded milk
2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup butter (1/2 stick), plus some to butter bowl, pans
1 teaspoon salt
1 envelope (1/4 ounce) active dry yeast
2 eggs, beaten
5 to 5 1/2 cups unbleached organic flour
for the topping
2/3 cup butter
1 1/3 cups packed light brown sugar
4 tablespoons light corn syrup
48 pecan halves or 1 1/3 cups chopped pecans
for the filling
3 tablespoons butter, melted
1/2 cup sugar
1 heaping teaspoon cinnamon
DIRECTIONS
- combine the scalded milk, sugar, butter and salt (i just throw all these together, then microwave); pour into bowl of stand mixer, and cool until lukewarm.
- add the yeast and beaten eggs; beat well.
- with the dough-hook attachment, gradually add the flour until a smooth dough forms.
- place the dough in a buttered bowl, cover and let rise in a warm place until double.
- butter two 9 x 1 1/2-inch round baking pans.
- while the dough is rising, prepare the topping by first melting the butter in a medium-size saucepan.
- stir in the brown sugar and corn syrup, and cook until just blended.
- divide the mixture evenly between the two baking pans.
- place the pecan halves or chopped pecans on top of the mixture; set pans aside.
- punch dough down, then turn out onto a floured surface.
- divide dough in half.
- roll out the first half of the dough into a 12 x 8-inch rectangle.
- brush the rectangle with 1 1/2 tablespoons melted butter.
- combine sugar and cinnamon in a small bowl.
- sprinkle one half of the mixture evenly over the dough.
- tightly roll up the rectangle, jelly-roll style, beginning with one of the 12-inch sides.
- pinch the seams to seal.
- cut into 10 to 12 pieces, and place into one of the baking pans.
- repeat the process for the second half of the dough.
- cover both pans and place in a warm place to rise until nearly double.
- preheat oven to 350F.
- bake for about 20 minutes or until done.
- let the rolls cool slightly, then invert pans onto serving plates (if the rolls are too hot, the gooey topping will slide off when you flip the pan onto the plate; the voice of experience).
serve warm, any time.
my grandparents arrived in the United States in 1903. Russian immigrants—he from a big city and she from the country—they settled in a section of Boston to begin exciting new lives as Americans. my grandfather opened a wholesale millinery, and my grandmother continued her career as a seamstress. i didn’t come along until more than half a century later, just a few months after my grandfather had passed away. but memories of my grandmother remain vivid and dear.
beginning at the age of four and for the next few years, my mom would drop me off at Nantasket Beach on the Hull Penninsula, where i would gleefully spend a week every summer with my grandmother. just the two of us. she’d rent a room in a giant boarding house, complete with veranda and rocking chairs, right across the street from the beach. she and her friends would dote on me, taking my hands as we crossed the street to spend the morning sunning and swimming on the South Shore. already in her sixties by that time, grandma was still a very strong swimmer, diving headlong into the surf and briskly doing laps along the beach. as she emerged triumphant from the salty water, she’d wave enthusiastically at me, as if she took great pride in the accomplishment. and, indeed, she should have.
grandma and mom, circa 1930
as we both got older, we’d play baseball in my parent’s yard; grandma would pitch the ball to me, i’d hit it with my trusty bat, then i’d run and get the ball, so we could do it all again. our dog would run alongside, thinking this was a very clever game. on Sundays, my parents would drive us to grandma’s apartment in the city for a visit. sometimes she’d make chicken soup, and we’d all sit around her kitchen table slurping down the golden liquid. sometimes we’d bring babka from our local Jewish bakery, so she could have a special treat. what’s babka? a sweet, moist and buttery yeast-based bread, much like brioche, filled with a blend of rich chocolate, sugar and cinnamon, finished off with a streusel topping. as grandma might say in still-broken English, “so, what’s not to like?”
with my grandmother top of mind, i wanted to re-create the babka of my youth. first i tried a recipe from Gourmet, but something about it wasn’t quite right. what was it? hmmm. no cinnamon. no streusel. the dough didn’t seem elastic enough as i worked with it or delicate enough after it had been baked. so, i went in search of an alternative. i turned to the chocolate babka recipe found in Martha Stewart’s Baking Handbook. and that was it: exactly as i remembered it, exactly as grandma loved it.
rather than making loaves, i cut the recipe by 2/3 and made six individual servings in a popover pan, an idea i borrowed from the Bread Farm in Edison, Washington. this perfect babka kept beautifully for several days, maintaining its rich flavor and texture.
Chocolate Babka
a recipe from Martha Stewart’s Baking Handbook
makes three loaves
INGREDIENTS
for dough
1 1/2 cups warm milk (110F)
2 envelopes (1/4 ounce each) active dry yeast
3/4 cups plus a pinch of sugar
2 whole, large eggs, plus 2 large eggs yolks, at room temperature
6 cups organic unbleached flour, plus more for work surface
1 teaspoon salt
2 sticks butter, cut into 1-inch pieces, at room temperature, plus more for bowl and pans
for filling
2 pounds semisweet chocolate, very finely chopped (i used Scharffen Berger)
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 1/2 sticks butter, cut into 1-inch pieces, at room temperature
for topping
1 egg
1 tablespoon heavy cream
1 2/3 cup confectioners’ sugar
1 1/3 cups organic unbleached flour
1 1/2 sticks butter, at room temperature
DIRECTIONS
- in a small bowl, sprinkle yeast and a pinch of sugar over the warm milk; stir until dissolved. let stand until foamy, about 5 minutes.
- in a medium bowl, whisk together the 3/4 cup sugar, 2 eggs and yolks.
- add to yeast mixture, and whisk to combine.
- in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a dough hook, combine flour and salt, then add the egg mixture; beat on low speed until almost all the flour is incorporated.
- add the 2 sticks of butter, and beat until completely incorporated, and a smooth soft dough forms, about 10 minutes. (the dough should still be slightly sticky when squeezed.)
- turn out the dough on a lightly floured work surface, and knead until smooth.
- place the dough in a well-buttered bowl, and turn to coat with butter.
- cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.
- to make the filling, stir together the chocolate, sugar and cinnamon.
- using a pastry blender, cut in 1 1/2 sticks butter until combined; set aside.
- to make the streusel topping, in a large bowl, combine the confectioners’ sugar and flour.
- using a pastry blender, cut in the butter, until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs; leave in some larger pieces (see top photo), then set aside.
- in a small bowl, beat the egg with the cream to create a wash; set aside.
- generously butter three 9-by-5-by-2 3/4-inch loaf pans (check out the online version of the recipe for instructions about the parchment paper; i used a non-stick popover pan, and the babka came lifted out beautifully.)
- punch the dough down, transfer to a well-floured work surface, and let rest for 5 minutes.
- cut the dough into three equal pieces.
- roll out one piece of the dough into a 16-inch square, about 1/8-inch thick.
- brush edges of dough with the egg wash.
- crumble 1/3 of the filling evenly over the dough, leaving about a 1/2-inch border on the long sides.
- roll up the dough lengthwise into a tight log (as if you were making cinnamon rolls), pinching ends together to seal. (ok, this is where i went my own way, cutting the roll into 6 individual pieces and placing in the popover pan.)
- twist dough evenly down the length of the log, a full five or six times.
- brush the top of the log (or tops of your babka popovers) with egg wash.
- crumble two tablespoons of the chocolate filling down the center of the log, being careful not to let the mixture fall off (i didn’t have the dexterity for this feat).
- fold the log in half, into a horseshoe shape.
- cross the right half over the left.
- pinch the ends together to seal, and form a figure eight.
- twist two more times, and fit into prepared pan.
- repeat with remaining dough and filling.
- brush the top of each loaf with egg wash.
- sprinkle 1/3 of the streusel topping on each loaf.
- loosely cover each pan with plastic wrap, and let rise in a warm place until dough has expanded and feels pillowy, about 40 minutes.
- preheat oven to 350F.
- bake loaves, rotating halfway through until golden, about 55 minute (20 minutes for babka popovers).
- reduce oven temperature to 325F; bake until loaves are deep golden 20 to 30 minutes more. cover loaves with foil, if they begin to brown too quickly (10 minutes for babka popovers).
- transfer pans to wire rack to cool completely.
for me, baking is a dance—one that i perform with infinitely more poise and grace than i could ever exhibit on any dance floor. i glide through my kitchen, moving from pantry to countertop to oven with clarity of purpose and a decided rhythm that helps me keep beat with my joyful, self-defined creative process. as i learned from Seattle’s acclaimed, award-winning, pie-baking maestro Kate McDermott this past weekend, rhythm also plays a pivotal role in crafting an exceptional pie.
Kate and husband Jon Rowley spent more than two years refining their perfectly tender, flaky, lightly crisp and rich pie-crust recipe—and another few years researching and experimenting with combinations of heirloom apples to determine which yielded the best-tasting results. with a Brix refractometer, they measure each variety’s sugar content to determine how other ingredients might be adjusted to ensure every pie’s flavors are ideally balanced.
Kate McDermott listens to the rhythm of a nearly done heirloom-apple pie.
as a classically trained musician with a highly refined ear, Kate discovered that her pies were completely baked when they emitted a rapid cadence of sizzle and a steady beat of whump. these culinary rhythms prompt her to remove her glorious handmade pies from the oven.
recently—in our small class of four pie-making wannabes— Kate demonstrated how to form a perfect pie crust by first combining refrigerated King Arthur flour, cold Kerrygold butter, chilled rendered leaf lard and salt in a very large, very chilled mixing bowl. she plunged her hands deeply into the bowl and lifted the ingredients with her palms up, blending the butter, lard and flour with her fingers, leaving fat chunks of all sizes to encourage an ultimately flaky consistency. next, Kate sprinkled icy cold water until a dough formed. then she let us loose to do the same, until each of us had two, flattened pie-dough disks.
as our dough chilled in the fridge, Kate and Jon shared that heirloom apples have thin skin, which contains tremendous flavor; it’s neither necessary nor desired to peel them. we all cheered. we cored and chunked Belle de Boskoop, Black Twig, Cox’s Orange Pippin, Egremont Russet, Elstar, Jonathan, King David and Prairie Spy varieties, tossing them into a giant communal bowl. Kate then measured and divided the apples into four-to-five-pound piles, one pile for each of our pies. we laughed nervously when we realized how many apples we needed to load into our pie dishes. after combining a blend of spices with the apples, we were ready to roll out our pie crusts. and that’s when i panicked.
rolling my pie crust has always been a overwhelming challenge. i clumsily try to shape a round, but it never is. round, i mean. Kate helped me to relax, work more confidently and less gingerly with proven techniques. if the dough isn’t perfectly round, life isn’t over. a happy revelation. it will still fit in the pie dish and on the top of the pie. and, most importantly, it will still taste great.
when our crusts were rolled and pies filled, we crimped, vented and egg-washed the top crust, then Kate carefully loaded our masterpieces into her oven. as the pies baked, Kate served snacks, including some of her own divine apple pie, and read Henry Ward Beecher‘s apple pie sermon aloud. as our pies came out of the oven, and we listened for their sizzles and whumps, i realized it wasn’t simply the rhythm of the pies that made for a warm, uplifting afternoon. it was Kate’s melody: her overarching enthusiasm, patience, openness, generous spirit and genuine love of pies. and it was the harmony of working together for a common goal: to proudly craft our own amazing pies.
i wish i would have taken more photos during class to share every step of the process with you, but i was literally up to my elbows in flour, lard, butter, pie dough and apples (and loving every minute of it). i totally forgot to remove my camera from its case, until our pies had been popped in the oven.
i’m about 100 percent positive that neither of the Gershwin brothers would have imagined the title of their 1924 hit could be applied to an award-winning berry or cherry or peach or heirloom-apple pie. but Kate’s rhythmic discovery is, indeed, fascinating. and her dedication to the Art of the Pie and teaching it to others, unwavering. if you’re near Seattle, i enthusiastically recommend that you take her class; it’s truly an experience every aspiring pie maker should have.
Kate’s Apple Pie
recipe shared with the gracious permission of Kate McDermott, Art of the Pie
makes one double-crust, 9-inch pie
INGREDIENTS
for the double crust
2 1/2 cups refrigerated King Arthur unbleached white flour
8 tablespoons leaf lard, cut into various-size pieces, from peas to walnuts
8 tablespoons Irish butter (e.g., Kerrygold), cut into various-size pieces, from peas to walnuts
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
6 – 8 tablespoons ice water (variable, depending on environmental conditions)
for filling
about 10 cups heirloom apples, quartered and cored
1/2 cup flour
1/2 – 3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar (my optional addition to 1/2 cup granulated sugar)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 heaping teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves (my optional addition)
a pinch or two of nutmeg
1 tablespoon organic apple cider vinegar
1 tablespoon butter, cut into small pieces
for topping
1 egg white mixed with 2 to 3 tablespoons water
1 – 2 tablespoons sugar
DIRECTIONS
- in a generously large mixing bowl, combine all the ingredients for the double crust, except the water.
- with clean hands, blend the mixture together until it looks like coarse meal; leave some lumps in it, so your pie will be flaky!
- sprinkle ice water over mixture and stir lightly with your hands or a fork.
- squeeze a handful of dough together; if it doesn’t hold, add a bit more water.
- form the dough into a ball, then divide in half.
- make two chubby disks, about 5 inches in diameter.
- wrap each disk in plastic, and let chill for about an hour.
- when the dough has chilled, place one of the disks on a well-floured surface and sprinkle some flour on top of it.
- thump the disk with your rolling pin (Kate prefers a French rolling pin, but whatever works best for you) several times; turn the disk over and thump the other side.
- if needed, sprinkle more flour on the disk to prevent sticking, then roll out the crust from the center in all directions. Kate advises to turn the dough quarter turns and to flip it over during the rolling process.
- when the dough is about an inch larger in diameter than your pie dish, fold the dough over the top of your rolling pin, brush off the excess flour on each side, and lay it carefully in the pie dish. don’t be alarmed if you have to patch your dough in a place or two; just brush a little water over any cracks, then reconnect the dough with any extra pieces you have left over.
- for your filling, slice the apples in 1/2-inch pieces.
- in a large mixing bowl, combine all the filling ingredients, except the butter; mix lightly until the surface of the apples have been coated.
- pour the mixture into the pie dish that contains your bottom crust, mounding high; dot with the butter.
- preheat oven to 425F.
- roll out your top crust, and place over the pile of apples.
- trim your crust with kitchen shears or a sharp knife, leaving about an inch of overhang.
- roll the crust over or under, so the pie is sealed; make sure the crust doesn’t extend beyond the edges of the pie dish.
- crimp the edges of the crust with a fork.
- paint with egg-white wash.
- cut decorative vent holes of your choice in the top crust.
- sprinkle sugar on top.
- bake the pie for 20 minutes, then reduce heat to 375F and bake for about another 40 minutes.
- when you remove the pie from the oven, listen for the sizzle and a deep, subtle bubbling or whump.
- cool on a wire rack. Kate’s sage advice: if you leave your pies to cool on the back porch, expect resident squirrels to pay a little visit.
serve alone for breakfast or with ice cream after your evening meal.
when i want a little something with my morning cup of tea, but don’t want to fuss, i turn to the noble scone. it’s simple. unassuming, yet satisfying. exactly what i would serve my friend Alex from the U.K., should he pop across the pond for an impromptu visit.
thought to have originated in Scotland, scones are made much like down-home southern biscuits. light and flaky wonders, scones are easy to whip up, and flavorings—like dried fruit, nuts, chocolate chips, culinary lavender, zests and cheeses—provide sweet and savory diversity. as one might imagine, scones can become quite addictive. and so it was at our home in the Colorado mountains.
when we’d grab a scone at a local bakery or coffee shop, they were nearly always overcooked: light brown on the outside and dry as Death Valley in July on the inside. gosh, we have to be able to do a better job than this at home. and, indeed, mastering how to make a very presentable, deliciously edible scone didn’t take long. treat the dough like a pie crust or a biscuit: mix it by hand, don’t overwork it, don’t overcook it.
soon, donning my headset, i was on early-morning conference calls with my east-coast team, passionately discussing creative projects—and banging out scones in the background. 
putting my little handset on mute, i’d ask my partner, what flavor do you want today? the breakfast scone-making practice went on for quite some time. i never got tired of making them. but my partner got tired of eating them. and frankly, so did i. perhaps it was too much of that good thing.
we took a break from scones. and i began to make them more judiciously. there’s a lot of great advice about scones and their nuances at joy of baking. by applying baking common sense, you can make them in a heartbeat. your friends and family will be duly impressed by your skill and civility—especially if you remember the Earl Grey.
the recipe here delivers a scone that’s flaky, but has depth/density. i add just a bit more sugar to give a hint of sweetness and to balance the tart cherries and lemon. apply your own true north to the flavorings; the combinations are endless!
Tart Dried Cherry and Lemon Scones
a variation on a recipe from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone
INGREDIENTS
2 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 heaping tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons cold butter, cut into small pieces
1 cup tart dried cherries
the zest of 1/2 lemon
2 eggs
1/4 cup whipping cream, plus one tablespoon
1/4 cup half-and-half
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
for icing (optional)
3 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 425F; lightly butter a sheet plan; or cover a baking sheet with parchment paper. (i actually bake mine scones at 375F.)
- in a medium bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, sugar and salt.
- cut in the butter, until the mixture resembles a coarse meal. (i like to leave in a few pea-sized pieces of butter.)
- add the cherries and lemon zest.
- in a small bowl, combine the eggs, cream and vanilla.
- add the liquid ingredients to the dry ingredients.
- turn the dough onto a floured surface, and lightly knead, 8 – 10 times.
- pat or roll the dough into a circle about 1/4-inch thick.
- cut into wedges or use a biscuit cutter to make rounds.
- brush the tops of the scones with the tablespoon of cream. (if you don’t add the icing, you may want to sprinkle the tops with sugar.)
- bake about 15 minutes, until lightly golden.
- cool slightly on wire rack.
- combine the confectioners’ sugar and lemon juice in a small bowl.
- drizzle icing over warm scones, and serve!
already deeply saddened that cherry season is now but a distant memory, i turned on Food Network over the weekend to catch an episode of Iron Chef America. as is the tradition, the chairman melodramatically waved his hand to reveal the secret ingredient: mounds of luscious, fresh cherries. Bings. Rainiers. Montmorencys. sheer torture. i could defrost some of the pie filling i put up this summer. no, exercise some self discipline; you’re saving that for the holidays. hmmmm. i could open the five-pound bag of tart, dried Montmorency cherries that just arrived from Cherry Republic. brilliant! not really, but it was a sound alternative to preserving the remaining quantity of precious cherry pie filling. and i knew immediately what i wanted to bake: rugelach.
rugelach—or little twists in Yiddish—are rolled, crescent-shaped cookies filled with dried fruit (like raisins or currents or apricots), chocolate, preserves or a combination thereof. when i was still quite small, my dad and i would go on a weekly run to our local Jewish bakery, where Bill, one of dad’s World War II Army buddies, served as the head baker. from my tiny vantage point, the bakery’s endlessly long, shiny silver and glass cases filled with pastries and bagels intrigued and overwhelmed. Bill made it simple by handing me a rugelach. sticky and sweet, the cookie made an indelible impression. but it wasn’t until a few years ago that they became a standard in my holiday cookie-baking repertoire.
i love the process of making rugelach: aside from the fun of playing with dough, when i brush the preserves on it, i feel like an artist mixing paint on an easel. yeah, i should probably stick to writing. the recipe below is a little twist on Martha’s: the plump, moist, puckery dried cherries serve as the perfect counterpoint to the sweeter Hero black cherry preserves i slather on the rugelach dough.
consume this tangy, sweet treat with a cup of tea or coffee or a big glass of milk. i can never eat just one. or two. i used up all my self discipline on saving the pie filling.
Rugelach
a variation based on a recipe from Martha Stewart’s Baking Handbook
i encourage you to look at the original recipe for filling variations; i’m sure you can come up with some cool ideas of your own. enjoy!
INGREDIENTS
for dough
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, at room temperature
8 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 large egg yolks
2 1/3 cups organic unbleached flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
for filling
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 1/4 cup walnuts (pecans work, too)
pinch of ground cinnamon
pinch of salt
1 cup Hero black cherry preserves, melted (i just leave it out at room temp)
2 cups tart, dried cherries
for topping
1 egg, lightly beaten
fine sanding sugar or granulated sugar for sprinkling
DIRECTIONS
- in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter and cream cheese on medium speed until light and fluffy, 3 to 4 minutes; scrape down the sides of the bowl.
- add the sugar and salt; beat until combined and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
- add the egg yolks, one at a time, beating to combine after each.
- with the mixer on low speed, add the flour to combine.
- mix in vanilla.
- turn out the dough onto a lightly floured surface.
- divide dough into three equal pieces, and shape each into flattened disks.
- wrap the disks in plastic, and refrigerate for at least an hour or overnight.
- preheat the oven to 325F.
- line a jelly roll pan with parchment paper and set aside.
- for the filling: in a food processor (i use the small, three-cup KitchenAid chopper), pulse together the walnuts, sugar, cinnamon and salt until finely ground; set aside.
- on a lightly floured work surface (i use a roll pat mat), roll out one disk of dough into a 12 x 8-inch rectangle (long side facing you), about 1/4-inch thick.
- brush the top of the dough evenly with the preserves.
- sprinkle 1/3 of the walnut mixture onto the layer of preserves; use the back of a spoon to press the walnuts into the dough.
- sprinkle on 1/3 of the dried cherries; press the cherries gently into the dough.
- tightly roll the dough into a log.
- place seam-side down on pan, pinching the ends of each side of the log together. tuck ends under log.
- repeat the process for the remaining two dough disks. (place the logs 2 inches apart on the pan.)
- chill the pan with the logs in the refrigerator for 30 minutes.
- with a long, sharp knife, at 1-inch intervals, make 3/4-inch deep cuts crosswise in the dough. make sure not to cut all the way through the log.
- lightly beat the remaining egg, and brush over the tops of the rugelach; sprinkle with sanding sugar.
- bake each batch until lightly golden brown, about 35 – 40 minutes (in my oven this takes only about 30 minutes; watch over carefully, so the rugelach doesn’t overcook).
- place the pan on a wire rack, and cool for 20 – 30 minutes in the pan.
- transfer the logs one at a time to a cutting board, and slice all the way through.
- return cookies to rack to finish cooling.
Martha’s recipe states rugelach can be kept in an airtight container for up to four days. i’ve found that they keep really well for a week. and they are perfect gift to ship for the holidays.
from the onset, my younger sister had it all. towheaded and adorable, adults doted on her. they’d bend down and swoop her into their arms, gushing, oh, isn’t she cute? (she was, of course.) and then look directly at me and say, and you’re very smart and so grown up. aside from the long-term self-image issues best addressed by a professional (don’t worry, i got over it on my own), the adults didn’t realize what an utter imp my sister truly was.
already beginning to turn from towhead to brunette.
tasked with watching her during outdoor play time, she’d constantly vanish: one minute in the yard, the next, gone. when i first experienced these disappearing acts, i’d panic. i am the responsible scout; i let her out of my sight. i would scour the neighborhood on foot or by bicycle in my quest to locate her. what i would have given back then for an electronic tracking device and matching ankle bracelet. (anyone who knows my sister knows how much she loves to accessorize.) i’d discover her a few doors down, then a few blocks, then a mile. like Monopoly and Scrabble, this game became one of our family rituals. i imagine we were a lot like other siblings: the youngest would break something and look innocently and adorably at the parents with wide eyes and say the eldest had done it. uh-huh.
we got older. my sister’s hair got darker. and our lives went in entirely different directions. eventually, she matured—mostly—and found her own true north. now, we talk often, and look fondly and wistfully back on our childhoods. i’ve almost forgiven her for bobbing all my dolls’ hair. but not quite. former little blondie, this one’s for you.
Blondies
from a Cook’s Illustrated recipe
the blondies are an easy-to-make, rich, sweet treat. delightful with a cup of tea. or for my dear Seattle friends, a robust cup of freshly brewed coffee.
per the recipe’s instructions, be very careful not to overbake; blondies dry out easily and will turn hard (ack). begin to check the oven several minutes before the bars are supposed to be done (mine baked in 20 minutes).
INGREDIENTS
1 cup pecans or walnuts
1 1/2 cups unbleached organic flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
12 tablespoons butter (1 1/2 sticks), melted and cooled
1 1/2 cups packed light brown sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
4 teaspoons vanilla extract
6 ounces white chocolate bar (1 cup), chopped or 3 ounces each white chocolate (e.g., El Rey Icoa/White) and semisweet chocolate (e.g., Scharffen Berger) bars, chopped
DIRECTIONS
- adjust oven rack to middle position; heat oven to 350F.
- spread nuts on large rimmed baking sheet, and bake until golden brown, about 10 minutes.
- transfer nuts to cutting board to cool; chop and set aside.
(i followed this guidance, but after tasting the blondies, i would have preferred not to toast the nuts; clearly a personal choice.) - while the nuts toast, line a 13 by 9-inch pan with non-stick foil (more complex directions available from Cook’s Illustrated), so the blondies can be lifted out of the pan after they’re baked.
- whisk flour, baking powder and salt together in a medium bowl; set aside.
- whisk melted butter and brown sugar together in a medium bowl until combined.
- add eggs and vanilla and mix well.
- using a rubber spatula, fold dry ingredients into egg mixture until just combined. be careful not to overmix.
- fold in chocolate and nuts.
- turn batter into prepared pan, smoothing top with spatula.
- bake until top is shiny, cracked and a light golden brown, about 22 – 25 minutes.
(would like to reiterate that mine came out perfectly after 20 minutes.) - cool on wire rack to room temperature.
- remove from pan by lifting foil overhang and transfer to cutting board.
- cut into 2-inch squares and serve!
littlebirdbaking.com 