Posts from the ‘baking’ Category
as you’ve likely discerned from my posts, i have an affinity for all things tart. and raspberries are no exception. they, along with hearty rhubarb, grew wild and uncontrollably in my parents’ Massachusetts backyard. my dad would cut the plants back, and they’d reappear more robust and plentiful than ever, mocking his every effort to contain them. much like one of his children, but that’s another story entirely. in the early morning, i’d go out and carefully pick the raspberries, so we could toss them on our cereal. or after dinner, on our ice cream. i think my dad was secretly elated that the berries refused to vacate the premises.
this season’s northwest berries have sadly vanished. but i found some rather puckery California raspberries to help me bid a fond farewell to the wonderfully temperate weather.
the rustic tart pastry was flaky and just melted in my mouth. i found handling the dough a bit challenging, though; kind of fussy when pulsed it in the food processor, apparently one too many times. think it recovered nicely, when i added a little flour.
Rustic Raspberry Tart
a slight variation on a kerrygold recipe
INGREDIENTS
1 cup unbleached organic flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons cold unsalted kerrygold butter (i used european-style butter)
1 large egg yoke (reserve the egg white)
3 – 5 tablespoons water
2 cups fresh raspberries
3 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons flour
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 400F.
- in a food processor, combine flour and salt.
- add butter, pulsing until mixture resembles coarse meal.
- slowly add egg yoke and water, one teaspoon at a time; process until dough clumps together and begins to form a ball.
- gather dough and place on a sheet of flour-dusted plastic wrap.
- flatten dough into a disk about 6 inches wide.
- place another piece of plastic wrap, floured side down, on dough.
- with rolling pin, flatten into an even 11- to 12-inch round; lift and smooth plastic wrap and continue rolling as needed.
- remove top sheet of wrap and invert dough into a 2 x 15-inch baking sheet lined with parchment (i just used a cookie sheet); remove remaining plastic wrap.
- place raspberries in center of pastry, leaving a 2-inch border.
- in a small bowl, mix sugar and flour; sprinkle evenly over the berries.
- gently (truly be vigilant, as the pastry seemed very fragile) fold the edges of the pastry over the berries, pleating the edges as you go. leave a 4- to 6-inch-wide opening in center.
- brush pastry with reserved egg white; sprinkle some sugar over the pastry.
- bake on the lower oven rack until crust is golden and juices bubble, around 25 minutes.
- cool on sheet for at least 15 minutes.
- while tart is still warm, use a wide spatula to loosen tart from pan and transfer to a serving platter.
cut in wedges and serve warm, dusted with powdered sugar or topped with whipped cream. a light, sweet, juicy, tangy after-dinner treat.
as each day passes, i embrace fall a bit more graciously. i remember my father, who, each year, welcomed fall with open arms. i would help him rake large piles of leaves and was amply rewarded when he let me jump in them. he’d yell and cheer me on as i obliterated all the work we’d done to tidy the yard in the first place. he never complained that he had to rake it all again and would insist that i go in and warm up, instead of helping him finish the task (i’m sure he also thought doing it himself was a heck of a lot faster).
my dad loved to cook, but i think he loved to eat even more. as any good New Englander would say, i always thought it was wicked cool when he would drive us out to the orchards in Bolton or Stow, Massachusetts to pick apples. in retrospect, the apple picking was a pretense; he was really after apple cider donuts and a few generous cups of steaming apple cider. oh, we’d get the apples, but they were tertiary to the other goodies procured at the farms. driving home, the sun would reflect on leaves ablaze with color: orange, red, burgundy, yellow. and sitting in the back seat, i felt content.
i can calculate precisely when i stumbled upon this recipe by the condition of the cookbook that houses it: the cookbook binding, nibbled on by my basset hound, Dewey, when he was a puppy. the pages tarnished from Dewey’s teething and from decades of use. Dewey and my dad have been gone for many years, but they both had an affinity for apple crisp (or for page 280, where the recipe can be found).
apple crisp
a wicked-simple variation based on a recipe from the vegetarian epicure
Alex in the U.K. gathering his Bramleys
INGREDIENTS
5 – 6 medium-size Bramley (or other tart) apples
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup unbleached organic flour
1/2 heaping teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350F.
- whisk all the dry ingredients in a medium bowl.
- cut the butter into the dry ingredients, until well combined.
consistency of topping, prebaking
- peel the apples, and slice thinly.
- place the apples only in a round casserole dish.
- sprinkle the mixture over the apples; don’t combine the apples and the mixture.
- cover and bake for 35 or 40 minutes.
- remove the cover, and bake for another 15 or 20 minutes, until the topping is crisp (hence the name) and golden brown.
serve warm, topped with whipped cream, ice cream, or half and half. it’s especially lovely when accompanied by profoundly insightful (and very funny) composer and folk singer Cheryl Wheeler’s When Fall Comes to New England.
according to the Farmers’ Almanac (and no doubt other authoritative scientific resources), autumn has officially arrived. to grudgingly usher in the season, i made my annual trek out to Jones Creek Farm in Sedro-Wooley, WA. 
there, friendly, knowledgeable farmers Les and Talea Price give TLC to their orchard laden with an extensive variety of heirloom apples. while i appreciate Jones Creek’s apple cornucopia, scenic Skagit Valley location and genuinely nice growers, i go out to the orchard for one simple reason: Bramleys.
this year marks the bicentenary of the Bramley apple (i.e., 200 years since British youngster Mary Ann Brailsford planted the pips in her garden that ultimately become the apple tree that bore the fruit that was named after the man who purchased the cottage where the tree was rooted and insisted that the apples be named after him—the abridged version). touted by apple pundits (and by me) as the best cooking apple on the planet, Bramleys retain their tart flavor because they contain more acid and less sugar than their inferior counterparts. and they produce an unbeatable melt-in-your-mouth texture, again, unlike more mundane varieties. somehow, the Bramley apple made it across the pond and to the top of my best-ever-fruits-of-all-time list.
with a bushel of Bramley apples, four sugar pie pumpkins and Elroy in the back of the car, i hightailed it home from Jones Creek Farm. later that afternoon, i made the recipe that follows with only three Bramleys; these guys were mutants. 
i dedicate this pandowdy to my dear friend Alex, a true U.K. renaissance man, who tends his own Bramley apple trees. and whose curiosity and thirst for knowledge have led him on many great adventures, from flying and stone henge site exploration to archaeologic digs. a man of generous spirit and an even bigger heart.
Apple Pandowdy
a dish concocted by combining a recipe from Sunset and one from Emeril Lagasse/Food Network and an idea or two of my own
INGREDIENTS
for the crust
1 1/2 cups unbleached organic flour
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
7 tablespoons cold butter
4 tablespoons ice-cold water (add more as needed)
1 tablespoon sugar for sprinking
for the filling
4 large Bramley apples (or, if you must, 6 – 7 Granny Smith), peeled, cored and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar, packed
2 tablespoons flour
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon butter cut into small pieces
DIRECTIONS
- in a large bowl or food processor, mix the flour, 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar and salt.
- cut the butter into the flour mixture, until coarse crumbs form.
- sprinkle water evenly over the crumb mixture, until a dough forms; add more water, if needed.
- turn dough out onto a lightly floured mat and pat into a flat disk.
- wrap disk in plastic wrap, and place in fridge.
- preheat oven to 350F.
- in a large bowl, toss the apples and lemon juice.
- in a medium bowl, whisk all the filling dry ingredients.
- add the mixture from the medium bowl into the large bowl filled with the apples and lemon juice; toss to coat, and let sit for 10 minutes.
- spoon the apple mixture into a 10-inch-deep ceramic pie dish.
- top the mixture with the small pieces of butter.
- remove dough from fridge and let stand at room temperature until pliable.
- with a lightly floured rolling pin, roll the dough into an 11-inch circle, about 1/4-inch thick.
- place dough on top of apple mixture, rolling edges under (trim off any excess, as needed).
- place pie dish on a cookie sheet covered in non-stick foil, and bake for about 30 minutes, or until crust is golden.
- remove from oven, and with a small, sharp knife, score the crust into 1-inch squares.
- with the back of a spoon, gently press the crust into the filling, so the juice flows over the edges of the squares.
- sprinkle the sugar over the crust, and return to the oven to bake for another 30 minutes, or until the apples are tender when pierced and the juices are thickened.
serve warm, topped with fresh whipped cream or vanilla or cinnamon ice cream. ok, i even like it for breakfast, without anything on it. well, maybe a splash of half and half.
last Saturday night can be summed up simply: dreary. rainy. cold. Winnie, observing the weather with disdain, had gone to bed early—flipped on her back, with legs protruding in the air. i could hear Elroy snoring deeply and rhythmically. to combat a total case of where-the-heck-did-summer-go blues, i decided to switch the remote to Ghost, crank up the KitchenAid stand mixer and whip up a batch of one of my favorite foul (um, i mean fall)-weather treats: chewy ginger cookies.
as soon as the first batch’s spicy scent began to permeate the family room, i started to feel a whole lot better. i made a cup of tea. put a few cookies on a plate. and contentedly settled in to watch one of my favorite modern-day classics. the love inside, you take it with you. grateful that you also leave some of it behind.
Chewy Ginger Cookies
from Country Inn and Bed and Breakfast Cookbook
makes 4-dozen cookies
INGREDIENTS
2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups butter
2 eggs
1/2 cup molasses
4 1/2 to 5 cups unbleached organic flour
3 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons ginger
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 1/2 teaspoons cloves
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
turbinado sugar for rolling
DIRECTIONS
- preheat oven to 350F.
- in a mixer with paddle attachment, cream together sugar, butter, eggs and molasses.
- in a separate bowl, whisk together all dry ingredients.
- add dry ingredients to creamed mixture, until a dough forms.
- create small, walnut-size dough balls, and roll each in sugar.
- place about 2 inches apart on a cookie sheet covered with parchment paper.
- bake for 8 – 10 minutes, or until crinkled and slightly brown.
these easy-to-make cookies retain their spicy, sugary, buttery essence in an air-tight container—ideal to send to faraway family members and friends. if they’re really, really nice to you.
inspiration comes in many forms. and i welcome whatever form it takes. through my posts, you may have already learned how much i admire my backyard bees (front yard, too, guys…no offense intended). as fall begins to crowd out summer, the lavender menu becomes sparse. but the bees continue to savor every bit of every lavender head remaining in bloom. it is to their tenacity and commitment i bake and dedicate this recipe.
and so it isn’t missed by including as an endnote, i want to thank KPLU (Seattle’s NPR News and All That Jazz) host and food-lover Dick Stein for giving me the jolt of inspiration i needed to actually begin this blog. after ruminating about it for many months, a segment of Food for Thought, hosted by Dick and Seattle Times food critic Nancy Leson, put me over the edge (um, in a good way). the topic of that week’s broadcast? donuts (see the scout’s truth north very first blog post). Dick was also kind enough to point me to the totally hip recording of The Ink Spots’ Donuts, played during the segment. caution: like donuts themselves, the recording can be addicting.
Bee-Inspired Lemon-Lavender Shortbread
a variation based on a recipe from Everyday FOOD
reported to make 36 cookies; in my sometimes imperfect kitchen, it makes more like 24
INGREDIENTS
1 cup (2 sticks) butter (i don’t use unsalted as noted in the original recipe), at room temperature
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups unbleached organic flour
1 1/2 tablespoons culinary lavender
grated zest of 2 lemons
yellow sanding sugar (optional)
DIRECTIONS
- beat butter, sugar, vanilla and salt with an electric mixer until smooth. on low speed, add flour, mixing just until a dough forms.
- mix in lavender and lemon zest.
- divide dough in half; place each half on a piece of parchment paper. with floured hands, gently roll each into a 1 1/2-inch-diameter log. if you are so moved, sprinkle sanding sugar on logs, roll to press in.
- wrap the logs tightly in the parchment and stick in the fridge until firm (60 – 90 minutes).
- preheat oven to 350F.
- with a serrated knife, slice dough into 3/8-inch-thick pieces. if dough begins to crumble, stop immediately and let stand at room temp for 5 to 10 minutes.
- place slices on cookie sheets, about 1 inch apart (i put parchment paper on my sheets).
- bake about 15 minutes, until the cookies are very lightly golden around the edges.
- let sit on cookie sheets for a minute or two, then completely cool on wire rack.
i actually think the serrated knife makes these cookies look a little ratty around the bottom edge; next time i might try an alternative. the shortbread keeps wonderfully in an air-tight container for a week or perhaps even longer. but i wouldn’t know; they’re snarfed up too quickly. not my best photography, but the shortbread is lovely—light and buttery.
bread: i love to eat it. i love to make it. and i love exploring local bakeries to unearth that perfect loaf. i couldn’t go to sleep tonight without paying homage to the staff of Bread Farm, an artisan bakery based in the very cool little village of Edison, WA.
the sublime loaf? sour cherry-lemon bread. it’s chewy. moist. light. with an incredible texture and striking good looks. oh, that i could someday craft something as divine. it’s the stuff my dreams are made of.
and while i wouldn’t hesitate to drive the 40 miles between our place and Edison, i have the good fortune of having Bread Farm come to me—courtesy of the Port of Everett Marina farmers’ market.
every word on every page of Bread Farm’s Web site makes me feel that this team has found and is honoring their true north. a commitment to quality (a core tenet of my own creative philosophy) and to sustainable, local, organic food production. a passion for their craft (yeah, another of my core tenets). the stickers Bread Farm places on the bags that safeguard their creations read, we dig local farms. well, Bread Farm, i totally dig you.
neither northwest drizzle nor beating sun (and this year, there was a blissful dose of that) deter my Sunday morning jaunts to the Port of Everett Marina farmers’ market, right on Puget Sound. there, only a taut yellow tape separates me from the farmers and their fresh, organic produce. i stand poised, like a runner on the blocks, ready to burst forth at 11:00 a.m. sharp.
in early July, recyclable bag snugly tucked under my arm, i sprinted first to the Tonnemaker Family Orchard’s market tent. are the pie cherries in yet, i asked breathlessly. no, not yet. maybe in a few weeks, said the girl keeping watch over the Bings. poop.
i stopped by the Tonnemaker’s booth each week, standing on tip toes and craning my neck to ensure i hadn’t missed the mother lode. nothing. until one Sunday my eyes fell upon a bin piled high with tart Montgomery cherries. yes! i purchased five pounds and headed for home, where i immediately dug out the pitter. setting up an assembly line, with my 87-year-old mother manning the stem-removal station, i began to run the cherries through the pitting process. about 15 minutes into it, i remembered how totally tedious pitting cherries is. just like, as a child, having to stand perfectly still while my mom pinned the hem of a cute, little dress (ack) she was making for me. feeling all prickly, as i took deep breaths and willed myself not to budge.
ever the scout, i actually love doing things from scratch. and with a little self reminder of the ultimate prize, all five pounds of cherries were soon pitless. mom went for a much-deserved nap, while i began to cook the filling. it’s wonderful in a pie, which i made right away. or on top of a dense New York cheesecake (recipe below), which i made about two weeks later (having frozen the filling and then thawed). did i say the filling was so great that we got another five pounds of Montgomerys the following week and did it again??
combining the best of two recipes (one from Food Network /Peter Sterk and one from epicurious.com/PARADE) resulted in a delightfully tangy mixture that yields enough to make two pies.
Cherry Pie Filling
INGREDIENTS
5 pounds cherries (about 8 cups)
4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
4 tablespoons. fresh orange juice
1 tablespoons finely grated orange zest (felt like doubling here was too much; you decide)
4 tablespoons cornstarch
1 1/2 – 2 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
pinch of salt
DIRECTIONS
- place cherries in a large saucepan with lemon juice and orange juice, cover and heat, until cherries lose a lot of their juice.
- in the meantime, mix the cornstarch, sugar, cinnamon and salt in small bowl.
- remove the cherries from the heat and add the sugar mixture; mix well.
- then add the vanilla and orange zest; mix well.
- cook the mixture on low heat, stirring frequently, until thickened.
- remove from heat and let cool.
you can add a little water if too thick or more corn starch if not thick enough. my experience is add corn starch with caution, or you may end up with something too gelatinous. double ack.
cheesecake was my dad’s favorite dessert; he’d order it at seemingly every restaurant we went to. this recipe is awesome; it’s been a consistent favorite with family and friends. i think dad would have been an immediate fan, too.
New York Cheesecake
from Gourmet, by way of epicurious.com
my modifications included here:
butter a 9″ x 3″ round cake pan (i use a 4″, because i never could find a 3″) and preheat oven to 350F.
INGREDIENTS
5 (8oz) packages organic cream cheese, softened
1 3/4 cups sugar
3 tablespoons unbleached organic flour
finely grated zest of 1 lemon
finely grated zest of 1 orange
5 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
- DIRECTIONS
- beat together cream cheese, sugar, flour, and zests with an electric mixer until smooth.
- add eggs and yolks 1 at at time, beating on low speed until each ingredient is incorporated; scrape down bowl between each addition.
- add the vanilla and beat until incorporated.
- pour mixture into buttered pan.
- place round pan in a large roasting pan and transfer to oven rack. carefully pour enough warm water in the roasting pan to come 2/3 up the side of the round pan.
- bake until firm, about an hour. add more water to the roasting pan as needed. middle should be ever-so-slightly wobbly when the round pan is shaken.
- remove from water bath, and cool completely on rack.
- place in fridge, loosely covered with plastic wrap. chill for at least six hours.
- remove from the fridge, and run a knife around edge of cheesecake, as needed. then invert onto a plate.
bring to room temp before serving. top with cherry filling. or fresh raspberries. or drizzle with hot fudge. i’ve also created a variation with more lemon zest and culinary lavender that i get from Pelindaba Lavender on San Juan Island.
this summer’s weather blessed the northwest with an amazing abundance of fruits and vegetables. but let’s talk about that some other time. today, i want to give thanks for the bakers and owners of Frost Doughnuts, my divinely sweet summer discovery—a local, small business that’s doing it right. the shop has only been open a short time, and i am, like many others, already a steadfast consumer. in fact, i called Frost this morning at 9:00 to find out if they had my favorite banana-creme-filled treat available. the Frost staffer who answered my call told me that they only had one left. slightly dejected, i asked if they planned to bake any more. she speedily checked with the kitchen and told me they could make some for me. how many did i want? four? they’ll be ready in an hour.
an airy, yeast-based dough, filled with rich, velvety, real banana creme. topped with dark chocolate and crunchy walnuts. as Gerswhin said, who could ask for anything more?
i happily drove 22 miles to Frost and picked up my order. if i’d been thinking (i’m on vacation, so please cut me some slack), i could have checked Frost’s Facebook page or checked my Twitter feed to learn what the bakers would be serving up today. i’ll try to remember to do that on Saturday.
it feels like the Frost crew is following their own true north: a neighborhood business with a vision and an openness and commitment to customers.
littlebirdbaking.com 