I Can’t Call It Chowder: Creamy Corn, Shrimp & Bacon Soup

I thought I had everything.

You know what I mean–you have an idea of what you’re going to make, and while you’re at the store, you’re picking everything you need, with the thought in mind that you already have one of the key ingredients at home.  You get home, and find that the ingredient you were sure you had isn’t there.

With the cooler weather finally taking root here, my thoughts turned to a creamy corn chowder, flavored with red peppers and bacon, and loaded with big, meaty pieces of shrimp.  I get home from the market, with everything I thought I needed for the chowder in tow.  I get the bacon cooking in the pot while I start chopping vegetables, and I bend down to retrieve a few potatoes from their storage drawer, and to my surprise, they were all gone!  It seems that Choo has taken a liking to making baked potatoes for his lunch, and I was completely out.

Now, see, it’s not a tragedy, because it certainly was a fine soup, but I can’t call it chowder.  Why?  One of our lessons in school was on chowders, and for a soup to be a true chowder, it must contain three items:

1. Salt pork.  Traditionally, it’s fatback, but bacon works just fine.
2. Dairy, either in milk or cream, or a combination of the two.
3. Potatoes.

Ah, you see?

But it’s still a really good soup.

By the way, this recipe makes a rather big pot of soup, but this was even better the next day for lunches, and it freezes nicely.

Creamy Corn, Shrimp & Bacon Soup

1/2 pound of bacon, chopped

1 pound raw shrimp (medium-sized, 31-40), peeled and deveined

1 medium onion, small dice

1 red bell pepper, small dice

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 pounds corn kernels (frozen is just fine in this case)

4-5 sprigs fresh thyme

1 bay leaf

2 1/2 cups chicken stock ( a little more if you like it a bit soupier)

1 cup half & half

Salt & Pepper to taste

1. In a large, heavy-bottomed stock pot, cook bacon until crispy over medium heat.  Remove bacon and set aside; drain all but 2-3 tablespoons of bacon fat from pot.
2. In the remaining bacon fat, sauté shrimp until pink and flesh is firm, about 5 minutes.  Remove from pot and set aside.
3. Add the onion, bell pepper, and garlic to pot, and sweat until vegetables are tender.
4. Add corn, then add thyme, bay leaf, and chicken stock.  Bring to a boil, turn down to a simmer, and let simmer for 10 minutes.
5. Remove thyme sprigs and bay leaf, and add half & half.
6. Before bringing soup back to a full simmer, either use an immersion blender and give the soup a few pulses, or take about 2 cups of the soup and puree in a blender, and return to pot.
7. Bring soup to a full simmer, and add bacon and shrimp.  Season with salt and pepper as desired.

Thanksgiving Post-Mortem, Part 2: Pie Harder

I have to admit, there’s one thing about the Thanksgiving meal that ranks high on my list is the desserts.  And, there may be cakes, or puddings, or flans… but we really know Thanksgiving dessert is pie.

I have found over the years that I am the only one who really loves pecan pie in my local family, and it just Breaks. My. Heart.  I still made one a few days before, to share with people in the office, for the main reason to be able to have a piece without having an entire pie to myself (especially when there would be so much else in the way of leftovers).

A few years ago, I discovered a Maple Pecan Pie recipe, and to tell truth, it’s pretty darn perfect as it is.  Ok, I do add a bit more pecans than the recipe calls for, but otherwise, it’s a fantastic pie, and I find that adding the maple syrup gives it a nice earthiness and rounded sweetness, where some other pecan pie recipes can be cloying.

And, it certainly wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie.  I’ve tweaked this recipe every year, and I do believe I have hit it on the head:  it’s dense but creamy and rich, full of spice, and has a nice hint of molasses from the brown sugar. It was even better when one of the pumpkin pies sat, hidden, in the fridge for two days, for Friday breakfast.

Pumpkin Pie

1 9″ pie crust, unbaked

3/4 cup golden brown sugar

1 Tablespoon cornstarch

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

3/4 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ground clove

1 16-ounce can pumpkin puree

1/2 cup heavy cream

1/2 cup sour cream

3 eggs, lightly beaten

1. Preheat oven to 350°
2. Whisk together brown sugar, cornstarch, and spices to blend.
3. Add pumpkin, heavy cream, sour cream, and eggs; whisk until smooth.
4. Pour into prepared pie crust, and bake for 45-50 minutes, until center of pie is set.
5. Cool on rack, then chill for 2-4 hours.  Can be made a day ahead (in fact, I think it’s better that way).

Thanksgiving Post-Mortem: Banana Cream Pie

You guys, it’s been weeks, I know.  Between a family wedding, working on some non-cooking crafty stuff, and getting a wild hair to sell pies and desserts for Thanksgiving, I have been busy. Of course, I’ve been thinking of all these things to be writing about, since Thanksgiving is just one of those big food-centered holidays.  I love to argue about brined vs. non-brined turkey;  whether it’s safe to cook the stuffing in the bird, and should that stuffing be cornbread or white bread.  Alas, it was not meant to be this year.  But, I remembered to take a few pictures here and there over the past week so I can write up a few things, that I can have bookmarked for next year.

The idea for the Banana Cream Pie came from a few sources, the main one being that one of the pies that I happened to have for sale was a Mexican Chocolate Cream Pie (a chocolate-cinnamon mousse in a meringe crust), which left me with a mess of egg yolks.   It was an easy jump to go from having egg yolks to thinking about pastry cream;  then going from pastry cream, and deciding that the best way to use that pastry cream is in a banana cream pie.  I’m not particularly a lover of bananas, but Choo and Kiddo are, and I knew my in-laws and their guests would be excited. Ok, I was a little excited, too, because one of the ways you can get me to eat bananas is to have it smothered in pastry cream and whipped cream.

First, there’s a graham cracker crust.  What in the world did we do before the day of the graham cracker crust?  I don’t know, but it was certainly a grayer, sadder world without it.  It’s definitely one of those tactile things, where your hands will get all covered in buttery crumbs, but the best way to know there’s enough butter in the crust is to grab a fistful and give it a squeeze–if those crumbs stick together, it’s ready to get pressed into a pie plate.

I happened to use Trader Joe’s Cinnamon Graham Crackers, but any other graham crackers will suffice.  Know what else might be for a good twist on this pie?  Gingersnaps.  You should try it and get back to me.

Press those crumbs into a pie plate firmly, and bake at 350 degrees for about 10 minutes, until toasted and set.

While the crust cools, it’s time to make that pastry cream.

Oh, Lord knows I love a vanilla bean.  I know they’re not cheap, but if you have a membership at Costco (or know someone who does), I found mine there for a respectable price–10 for $12.  Considering I’ve seen 2 for anywhere between $5-$10 at the local supermarkets, that’s quite a bargain.  Sure, you can use vanilla extract, but I’m a visual person, and I love seeing the little vanilla bean specks.

 

I had a conversation with someone who hated using vanilla beans because she thought they were a waste–that seeds did not create enough of a vanilla flavor in her ice cream base;  The trick is to add the seeds, but to also steep the bean in the milk for about 20 minutes, as the pod is full of the essential oils that will add to the overall flavor.  Here, I split and scraped the pod and added the seeds, along with the pod, into the milk, heated it all to a simmer, then took it off the heat and let sit for about 20 minutes.  Those egg yolks I saved were whisked with some sugar, cornstarch, and a bit of milk while I reheated the milk back to a simmer.

So, here’s a lesson from culinary school: tempering.

See, you just can’t drop those egg yolks right into the saucepan of simmering liquid, because the heat will cook those egg yolks too quickly, and then you’ll have scrambled egg pieces in your pastry cream, and honey child, that’s pretty gross. I made that mistake a long time ago making lemon meringue pie, and boy, I won’t ever do that again.

So, to keep that from happening, you need to slowly bring up the temperature of the yolks so the protein doesn’t coagulate into clumps. Whisk your egg yolks as you pour in about a half cup of the hot milk, and once it’s combined, whisk in another half cup of hot milk. This should sufficiently warm up the yolks and also help the protein strands to loosen up. Pour the yolk mixture into your simmering milk, and stir, stir, stir until it hits a simmer and has begun to thicken. Now, not only have you mastered the technique of tempering, you have also made an emulsion. Bless that lecithin in your egg yolks and its magical ability to hold fat in liquid.

Pour that pastry cream into a clean bowl and cover the surface with plastic wrap and chill for about an hour.

Once it’s cooled, it’s time to put everything together.

How many bananas to use will depend on how deep the pie plate is;  I happened to be using a Pyrex deep-dish pie plate, so I ended up using 4 large bananas;  a shallow pie tin would definitely use less.  Slice the bananas just under 1/2″ thick, and start a first layer on the bottom of the shell;  the bananas should be close enough to be touching, but not squished together–there has to be enough space for some of that lovely pastry cream to be filling in those gaps.

Spoon on a third of pastry cream and spread over bananas, making sure the pastry cream fills in the spaces between the banana slices.  Repeat with two more layers of banana slices, and spreading the final third of pastry cream on top.  Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for a minimum of 4 hours to let everything set.

When it’s close to time for serving, whip up some heavy cream with a bit of sugar, and top the pie.  You can just spread it on, or pipe it if you’re feeling fancy:

Banana Cream Pie

Crust

3 cups graham cracker crumbs

5-6 tablespoons melted butter (amount of butter will depend on type of graham cracker crumbs used)

1. In large bowl, mix together crumbs and melted butter.  Test by pressing crumbs together; if it falls apart, add more butter.
2. Firmly press crumb mixture into 9″ pie plate.
3. Bake at 350° for 8 to 10 minutes until browned and set.  Let cool completely before assembling pie.

Pastry Cream

2 1/4 cups whole milk

1 vanilla bean

6 egg yolks

2/3 cup sugar

1/3 cup cornstarch

1. Pour 2 cups of milk into saucepan and heat on a medium flame.
2. Split vanilla bean and scrape seeds; add seeds and scraped pod into milk.
3. Bring to a simmer, then remove from heat and let steep for 20 minutes.
4. Begin to bring milk back to a simmer; whisk together egg yolks, remaining 1/4 cup of milk, sugar, and cornstarch in a medium bowl.
5. Once milk reaches a simmer, temper in about 1/2 of the milk into egg yolks, then add yolk mixture to saucepan, whisking constantly.
6. Continue to whisk pastry cream as it reaches a simmer.  Once it thickens, remove from heat, remove vanilla pod, and pour pastry cream into a clean bowl, cover surface with plastic wrap, and chill for an hour.

Pie Assembly

3-4 large bananas, peeled and sliced between 1/4″-1/2″ thick

1 1/4 cups heavy cream

3 Tablespoons sugar

1. Lay banana slices in a flat layer on bottom of pie shell.  Slices should touch but not be packed tightly.
2. Spread 1/3 of pastry cream on top of slices, letting pastry cream fill gaps.
3. Repeat layers two more times, cover surface of pastry cream with plastic wrap and chill for 4 hours to let set.
4. Whip cream with sugar to medium peak;  spread or pipe whipped cream on top before serving.

Rockin’ the Moroccan: Lamb, Butternut Squash and Red Pepper Tagine

It’s pretty clear that my first love in cooking is baking, hands down.  I’m fascinated by the chemical process behind leavening;  I love the smells that waft from my kitchen when there’s a batch of muffins or a cake in the oven.  We get it, Jen, you’re a sugar addict.

But, one cannot live by sugar alone.

One must cook “real” food:  meats, vegetables, grains–the stuff that nutritionists nod their heads and say, yeah, that’s much better for you.

And, when it comes to cooking meals, one of my favorite cooking processes is braising.  I mean–look–it’s part of the title of my blog.  When a home cook masters braising (and, really, it doesn’t take that much to learn how–it’s rather forgiving, this cooking method), a world of rich stews made from inexpensive cuts of meat opens up.  Granted, it’s not a technique that turns out a fast meal–the key to braising is a long cooking time in a low temperature oven.  It has the ability to take cheap, tough cuts of meat, and with some aromatic vegetables, flavorful liquid, and some patience, to the end result of tender, luscious bites in a rich sauce.  Part of the magic behind this technique is that the cuts of meat used for braising are full of connective tissue;  it’s the slow,  moist cooking method that allows the connective tissues to break down and not only creates a tender piece of meat, but those connective tissues break down to gelatin to help create that rich sauce.

A tagine is an excellent example of a braised dish;  the name comes from the clay pot that was perfectly designed for braising, as the conical-shaped top allows the steam that rises from the stew to collect and condense at the top, and drip back down into the pot.  (Don’t worry about buying a tagine, really–as long as you have a dutch oven or a heavy pot with a lid that can go stove-to-oven, you’re fine.)  This type of tagine is a Moroccan tagine–you’ll often see them as either chicken or lamb (but beef and vegetarian versions with lentils are not uncommon), with various vegetables, fruits such as quince, preserved lemon, dates, dried plums or apricots, and seasonings such as garlic, cinnamon, ginger, cumin, paprika and pepper.  You’ll want to serve a tangine with couscous or some flat bread–anything to soak up the leftover sauce, as you’ll not want it to go to waste.

So, let’s go over the basics for braising–tagines and other dishes:

1.  A heavy bottomed pot with a well-fitted lid that can go stove-to-oven.

2.  Inexpensive tough cuts of meat.  An already-tender cut of meat will dry out in the long cooking period–a cut of meat such as lamb shoulder and shanks, beef brisket, short ribs, and chuck roast.

3.  A flavorful liquid such as chicken or vegetable stock, red wine, or juice.

4.  Aromatic vegetables and herbs–onions, celery, bell peppers, garlic, bay leaves, thyme, cinnamon sticks, etc.

5.  Patience.

Let’s start:  Heavy-bottomed part.  Check.  Tough cut of meat.  Check.

Don’t skip the step of browning the meat first.  I know it’s kind of a pain, especially when you want to get it all in the oven and started already.  It’s not about “sealing in the juices” because that’s a myth.  Browning meat is all about flavor–that bit of caramelization will infuse the dish with a depth you will miss if you skip it.

Once all the meat is browned and removed from the pan, the vegetables are added and sauteed briefly, then the liquid, any other seasonings are thrown in, then the browned meat is returned to the pot.  Bring the liquid to a boil, cover the pot, and immediately pop into the oven to cook for 1 1/2 hours.

In this particular dish, the butternut squash and dried plums are stirred in later, as they would fall apart too easily with the long cooking period.

Serve tagine on a bed of couscous (the Fastest Pasta in the West) and top with chopped cilantro.  But, Jen, there’s no cilantro in your picture. I know, I know, that’s what happens when I’m shopping at Trader Joe’s where all their fresh herbs are packaged in the little clear boxes, and being in a rush, I grab a box of cilantro, and carry on with my shopping.  Choo helps unpack when I get home, and come the day I cook this tagine and I’m all ready to grab my box of cilantro and LO AND BEHOLD my fresh cilantro has turned to MINT.

This stew is absolutely perfect for a cool Autumn evening, and it’s healthy and packed full of good-for-you things.  Another part of the magic of braising is that leftovers are often better the next day, once all the flavors have had a chance to marry.  That is, if you have any leftovers to begin with.

 

Lamb, Butternut Squash & Red Pepper Tagine

1 pound boneless lamb shoulder, trimmed and cut into 1″ cubes

1/4 cup flour

1/4 teaspoon ground cumin

1/4 teaspoon paprika

1/4 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

2 Tablespoons olive oil

1 medium onion, 1″ dice

1 red bell pepper, 1″ dice

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 14-ounce can crushed tomatoes

2 1/2 cups chicken stock

2 cinnamon sticks

2 pounds butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1″ pieces

1 cup pitted dried plums

Salt & Pepper to taste

1/2 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped

 

1. Preheat oven to 350°
2. In a large bowl, mix flour with cumin, paprika, ginger, salt and pepper, and dredge lamb pieces.
3. Heat large pot on medium-high, and add oil.  Brown lamb in two batches, transferring to a bowl.
4. Turn heat to medium and add onion and red peppers.  Saute 2-3 minutes then add garlic, tomatoes, chicken stock and cinnamon sticks.
5. Return lamb to pot and bring to a boil.  Top with lid, and place into preheated oven.  Cook until lamb is tender, about 1 1/2 hours.
6. Stir in butternut squash and return to oven for 30 minutes, or until squash is fork-tender.  Stir in dried plums and return to oven for 10 more minutes.  Check for seasoning and add salt and pepper to taste.
7. When tagine is done, set aside for 10 minutes before serving (perfect amount of time to prepare couscous).
8. Serve on bed of couscous, top with fresh cilantro.

 

 

Apples and Calvados and Cinnamon, Oh My: Brandied Apple Butter

As you may remember, I have been on a mission from my mother these past few months to fill this large bag of mason jars full of whatever I thought would be delicious for Christmas gifts.  First, there was the Strawberry, Black Pepper & Mint Jam, and then I made Peach, Ginger, and Vanilla Jam.  I still had jars left to be filled, and now I was well out of the reach of summer fruits, so it was time to turn to the abundance of Autumn.

Aren’t they just a sight?  I’ve got some McIntosh, Braeburn, and a few Pippins–all ready to be turned into apple butter.  I’ve noticed that combining a few different varieties of apples helps bring a good balanced flavor to the butter.

The best $5 I’ve ever spent at a yard sale.

I do love my Apple Whirlygigger.  Yes, Whirlygigger.  And don’t try to tell me it’s called anything else.  It peels!  It slices!  It cores!  All at the same time!

If you’re a novice at making preserves, you might want to try your hand at apple butter–there’s no adding pectin (apples are naturally packed with pectin) and if you happen to not simmer it long enough, not to worry–call it apple sauce and you’re still golden.  I also like it because it doesn’t require a ton of sugar like some jams as the long simmer brings out the sugars in the fruit.

I still had half a bottle of the Calvados left from a few weeks ago, so that went into the pot, along with some apple cider;  when simmering apples, there needs to be some liquid added–unlike berries and stone fruits, there’s just not as much water in apples.  Apple butter also needs lemon juice, as the acidity will help keep any nasties growing in your jars and adds a nice brightness and balance in flavor–without it, it would be a bit cloying.  I threw in a few cinnamon sticks, and just a small amount of nutmeg and clove, as I didn’t want to overpower the apples–they’re the ones who are supposed to be the stars of the show, you know?

It takes some love and patience to get to this point.  Apple butter when it’s done will be thick and a spoonful of the butter will remain mounded and thick after cooling for a few minutes.

The one and only disappointment is how much this reduces–I started with 14 cups of chopped apples, and ended up with only just over 3 1/2 pints, most of which will be passed on as gifts.

I guess that means I should make more, yes?

 

Brandied Apple Butter

14 cups peeled, cored and chopped apples

2 1/2 cups sugar

1 cup Calvados (a French Apple Brandy)

1 cup apple cider

juice of 2 lemons

3 cinnamon sticks

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

In a large, heavy bottomed pot, add all ingredients and bring to a boil on medium-high heat.  Once boiling, turn down to medium-low heat and simmer until the apples are very soft.  Mash apples or puree with an immersion blender (remove cinnamon sticks while using stick blender and return when finished) and continue to simmer, stirring often, until apple butter is thick, about 2 hours.  If preserving in jars, this page has excellent information on how to can apple butter.

 

A Halloween 2-Fer: Brown Sugar & Spice Cookies and Caramel Apples

I kind of went crazy this year with making treats for Kiddo’s pre-school.  I know once he’s out there in the real world next year, his school isn’t going to be as keen about homemade goodies, so this was the year to get a chance to get some of my candy-making and cookie-baking desires satisfied.

I debated for a while whether I was going to make sugar cookies or gingerbread for the kids.  Choo and several friends talked me off the gingerbread ledge (I can’t wait for December, when I attempt to be knee-deep in gingerbread for the whole month), but I decided to do a bit of a twist on sugar cookies that ended up being a very nice compromise.  It gave the cookies enough character that they were more than just plain sweet.  As for the icing, I like to go with Martha Stewart’s recipe and instructions.  If you do any amount of cookie baking through the year, I would recommend getting the meringue powder–it’s easy to pick up at craft stores like Michael’s or any candy making supply store.  It’s shelf stable, and you’re not wasting egg yolks (well, unless you’ve got plans for, say, lemon curd or pastry cream or hollandaise sauce).

I think I just realized my love of royal icing and brightly decorated cookies comes from them being completely verboten when I was a child.  Oh, sure, we had the occasional Toll House cookie, but a delightfully colored, almost-pure-sugar cookie was an absolute no-no, so I’m sure my inner child is just excited that I can make them now.

Brown Sugar and Spice Cookies

makes approximately 30 cookies

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

1 cup dark brown sugar

1 egg

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

3 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt (skip if you use salted butter)

1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1. In a large bowl, beat butter and brown sugar until fluffy.
2. With a rubber spatula, scrape down sides, then beat in egg and vanilla.
3. Sift together all dry ingredients together, and add to butter mixture.  Beat until flour is fully incorporated.
4. Turn dough out onto plastic wrap and press down to approximately 1/2″ thick.  Wrap dough in plastic wrap and chill for a minimum of 4 hours, up to overnight.
5. When ready to bake cookies, preheat oven to 350°.  Line sheet pans with parchment paper, or butter sheet pans.
6. Roll dough to just under a 1/4″ thickness, and cut with cookie cutters.  Place on sheet pans 1″ apart.
7. Bake cookies 11-13 minutes, until golden brown.  Cool on sheet pan for 5 minutes before transferring to cooling rack.
8. Once fully cooled, they can be frosted with royal icing.

 

 

Next up were the caramel apples.

One of the biggest complaints that come from home cooks when making caramel apples is that the caramel slips off the apple.  Well, of course:  if you’re buying them from the supermarket, they’re waxed like your cousin Skeeter’s Camaro.  If you have access to a farmer’s market, go buy unwaxed apples.  I know, they’re not as pretty, but your caramel will stick.  If you have to get your apples from the supermarket, then you need to get that wax off.  My method is to put them in a sinkful of water with a drop of Dawn dishwashing liquid (a drop is all you need, it’ll help cut through that wax) and a fresh nylon scrubby or washcloth.  Wash the apples thoroughly and scrub the skins; be sure to dry the apples with a clean towel.  Once the apples are dry, remove any stems, and punch in the craft sticks at either the stem or blossom end.  As I was using baby Gala apples, the bottoms were on the small side, so the sticks went into the blossom end.

Once that was done, it was time to start the caramel.  As you may notice, I’ve got two shades of caramel happening in that picture.  The first batch of caramel I made, I used white sugar–by the time the caramel hit hard ball stage (255-260°, ideally) it was a very light brown–not as dark as I would have liked it, but if I had let it go farther, then I’d have headed into crack stage territory, and there would be no chewy caramel.  The next batch of caramel, I went with brown sugar, and I liked the final result–a much darker “caramelly” color once it reached 260°.

Once the caramel was made, I had my apples ready to dip.  I swirled the apples first in the caramel, then swirled them a second time over the pan so I could evenly coat the apples and any excess caramel could drip off.  A very important tip:  put your dipped apples on wax paper or silpat (if you have it).  It will do caramel-mind-melds with your pans and plates if you don’t have anything in between.  After dipping all the apples, I just did a drizzle of milk chocolate over the caramel, but this is where you can have fun and experiment–dip in different kinds of chocolate, roll in chopped nuts or candies–the possibilities are endless.  Kids can especially help out with the decorating the apples, and you can pretend it’s healthy, “because it’s got fruit.”

Caramel for Caramel Apples

covers 4-5 large apples, 6-8 medium apples, or 8-10 baby apples

1 pound sugar (white sugar for a light caramel, brown sugar for a darker caramel)

1/3 cup corn syrup

1/2 cup heavy cream

2 tablespoons butter

Add all ingredients into a saucepan, and simmer over medium heat to hard ball stage (255-260°).  Take off heat immediately, and working quickly, swirl apples in caramel, and then tilt and spin slowly to let excess drip off and coat apple evenly.  Place on silpat or wax-paper lined sheet pans. While caramel is warm, roll in chopped nuts if desired, or let caramel cool completely and drizzle with chocolate, and roll in nuts or candies.

An Easy Halloween Treat: Ghostie Pops

I’ll say this now:  I totally nabbed this idea from Martha Stewart.  Easy, can be done in an afternoon, totally kid-friendly, and HEY, it’s candy!  What’s not to love?

First, there was a double boiler and a pound of white confectionary wafers.

I’ll tell you one thing, I have never actually owned a double boiler in my life.  It’s easily rigged with a large metal mixing bowl that fits atop a small stockpot.   As for the white confectionary wafers, well, you don’t need to get them, you can use a pound of white chocolate, and add a tablespoon of vegetable oil.  The extra fat added to the chocolate helps mimic couverture–chocolate with a higher percentage of cocoa butter–which professional candy makers use for those gorgeous shiny chocolate coatings.

So, anyway:  melt your white chocolate.

One more thing, if you’re using a double boiler, be careful about getting water in your chocolate.  That would be bad–crossing the streams bad.  Water causes chocolate to seize, meaning it will get grainy and lumpy and it will not cooperate at all.

I lined sheet pans with parchment (wax paper would also work), and spooned about 1 tablespoon of the melted chocolate onto the paper.  With the spoon, I swirled the chocolate into ghost-like shapes, and went with short, fat ghosts with little stubby arms.   Kiddo helped out by adding the lollipop sticks.  I gave the sticks a little twirl to make sure they were fully covered with the chocolate.  I added about an extra teaspoon of chocolate once the sticks were in place, to make sure that they were fully anchored.

The ghosts went into the fridge for a 10 minute rest to set.  Once ready, I gently peeled off the paper.

About 2 ounces of dark chocolate (I just happened to have some leftover from when I made the Marjolaine 3 weeks ago) were melted and poured into a piping bag.  If you don’t have piping bags (because I’m sure you just keep a drawer full of ‘em, right?) you can use a ziploc bag, and snip off the tip–just be sure to use a freezer bag, as the plastic is heavier and will be easier to handle.

Piping chocolate can be tricky.  It took a few ghosts to get the hang of it again, but once I was comfortable, I was on a roll.

C’mon!  How cute are these?!

And, these were not expensive at all:  The pound of confectionary wafers cost $3.79, the lollypop sticks were 89 cents for 25.  The pound was plenty to make a full 25 ghostie pops.

But, since these are destined to be part of the festivities at Kiddo’s pre-school, they needed to be wrapped.

Yes, I found little ghost treat bags at the candy supply store.   Perhaps it was a bit overboard, but I still can’t get over how cute they turned out.

A Belated Sweetest Day: Almond Toffee

I was made aware that this past Saturday was Sweetest Day, which I had never known its origins as being a promotion to boost candy sales.  A holiday designed for buying candy?  How did I not know about this sooner?

That’s it, I will always celebrate Sweetest Day by making candy to give away to people I like from now on.

I had a late start this time around and after thinking of different kinds of candies I could make, I decided on a favorite:  Toffee.  You want to know one of the reasons why it’s a favorite of mine?  The recipe starts out with one pound of butter.

Yes.  You read that right.  One. Pound. Of. Butter.

See?  I wasn’t kidding.  And to that one pound of butter (say it a few times, it feels awfully decadent)  in went two cups of sugar.  I had this in my heavy enameled cast-iron pot with the heat on medium, and once the butter melted, I slipped on the candy thermometer and it was time to stir.  And stir.  And stir some more.

At first, once the butter melted, it was kind of odd and “broken” looking (broken being a culinary term when a fat separates from a sauce, like in homemade macaroni and cheese or hollandaise that’s been overcooked)–the melted butter acts like it doesn’t want to incorporate into the sugar, but I knew better.  Somewhere at 240°, I had this bubbling mass that still had another 10 minutes or so to go before we had toffee.

After hours and hours and hours of stirring, the syrup hit the Hard Crack Stage (I should throw in some Crack Is Wack joke in here somehow) which is 300°-310°.  This is when it’s time to work quickly.  Once the heat gets turned off on a cooking sugar syrup, it will start its crystalization process.

Immediately I tossed in about 1 1/2 cups of roughly chopped almonds.  To be honest, I stole them from Choo’s snacking stash, and they were already roasted and lightly salted.  I don’t mind some salt in caramels, and in fact, I think it enhances the flavor of the caramelized sugar and browned butter.  After the almonds were mixed in, I (carefully!) poured this into a well-buttered 8″ square cake pan.

I use a smaller pan because I like my toffee in big, solid chunks, but I know that others like it in thinner sheets, so a 9 x 13 cake pan or a silpat-lined sheet pan (for even thinner sheets, or if you want to break it up for little toffee pieces for other confections like pretzels dipped in milk chocolate and rolled in toffee bits).

Once this block had cooled a bit (but still very warm to the touch), I sprinkled the top with shaved dark chocolate which promptly melted so I could spread it out into a nice, thin sheet of chocolate.   And, really, that’s it–you don’t need to do anything else.  Once it’s fully cooled, it pops out of the pan very easily, and can be broken up into bite-size pieces with a large knife or a toffee hammer.

One of my ideas for the holidays is to try to find a source for little toffee hammers like See’s used to put in their boxes of Victoria Toffee.  I could just wrap up an entire block of this toffee in cellophane and attach the hammer in the bow.  Sugar and Tools:  a winning combination.

But, this time around, I just piled pieces up on a plate and brought them into work:

Yeah, that’ll do.

Almond Toffee

1 pound unsalted butter

2 cups sugar

1-2 cups of roughly chopped toasted almonds (amount is to personal preference)

4-6 ounces dark chocolate, either shaved, or in chips

1. In a heavy-bottomed pot turn heat to medium and add butter and sugar.
2. Once butter melts, stir often as syrup begins to boil.  Keep a close eye on the syrup as it can scorch easily.
3. Simmer syrup until it reaches the hard crack stage, at 300° to 310°, approximately 10-15 minutes.
4. Turn heat off and working quickly, add nuts and stir until fully incorporated.  Pour into buttered cake pan or silpat-lined sheet pan.
5. When the toffee has cooled slightly but is still very warm to the touch, sprinkle chocolate on top and let the heat of the toffee melt the chocolate.  Spread chocolate evenly with rubber spatula.
6. Let toffee cool completely before lifting out of pan.  Use a heavy knife or small hammer to break into bite-sized pieces.

Sticky, Gooey, Caramelly Upside Down Apple Cake

It seems that in the matter of days the weather turned from the hot oven blast of the Santa Anas to cool and grey, with the wind that portends our first storm of the season.  I’ve hit my turning point towards seasonal nestiness; I want soups and stews for dinner, oatmeal packed with raisins and maple syrup for breakfast, and rich autumn fruit baked into cakes and pies.

A few weeks ago, I saw Ree Drummond’s recipe for Upside Down Apple Cake that she cooked in her cast iron skillet, and today I said, Self, I do believe it is time to make this cake. Oh, and wouldn’t you know, this weekend’s trip to the market netted me a very large bag of Granny Smith apples (on sale for 49 cents a pound–you know I had to bring some home to be turned into something).

Now, of course, I did have to tweak the recipe a bit since her recipe calls for a 10″ skillet, and mine happens to be 12″.  I bumped my apples up to 6 but kept the butter and sugar amounts for the caramel the same.

I have NO CLUE why those apple slices look so green on the right!  Forgive me, I’m still learning how to do color correcting with the photo editor.  ANYWAY.  Have I ever mentioned my love of caramel?  Chocolate’s great and all, but chances run high if there’s a caramel-based dessert on a restaurant menu, that’s probably what I’m getting.  Bring me some Dulce de Leche and I’ll be your loyal friend and always help you move.

As for the cake, I multiplied everything by 1.5 to adjust for the size of the skillet.  Other recipe tweaks:  I did not have sour cream, but I did have whole milk yogurt, which makes an acceptable substitute and does help lighten the recipe a bit.  I did not multiply the baking powder, but added a half teaspoon of baking soda, which would give a big lift to the cake when it reacted with the yogurt. Along with the cinnamon, I added a few gratings of nutmeg and a pinch of ground cloves.

Once the sugar and butter started to turn a light amber color all around the apples (I cheated a bit by nudging the slices a bit during the cooking process so the caramel could move outwards and color the apples more evenly), the batter was spooned on and spread out and popped right into the oven.  I did have to bake the cake a little longer, and with the addition of the baking soda, it gave the cake some extra lift.

Can I tell you just how amazing this cake smells?  Apples and caramel and spices and cake, oh my.  Next time I bake this cake (and there will be a next time, trust me), I need someone from the Yankee Candle Company to come and sit in my kitchen and copy this scent into a candle, because I would buy it.

It’s not a pretty cake by any means.  If you were to be gentle on my feelings, you could call it rustic. Even Kiddo was kind of disappointed because when he heard the word cake, he imagined a big frothy confection decorated with various superheroes and candles.

His attitude changed when we shared a piece of that cake, still warm from the oven.

And the Last of The Birthday Dinner Series: Marjolaine

I have had fond recollections of a cake I had made back in my school days;  I remembered it as layers of hazelnut meringues and ganache and (the oh-so-gorgeous Fat Bomb) French buttercream.  For some reason it had been sticking in my mind the past few months, and I decided that it had to be my birthday cake.

I still had my school recipe, but after a few searches online, I decided on Godiva Chocolate’s version.  I did a few things differently, the main thing being rather than spread the meringue into a full-sized sheet that would be cut after baking, I traced rectangles out on parchment paper and then piped the meringue into the rectangles (which is how I remember doing it in school).  In retrospect, I should have gone for the whole sheet–it would have saved me time, and I would have had more evenly sized pieces.  I didn’t bother with the Frangelico or butter in the ganache, and doubled the amount of chocolate covered hazelnuts for decoration.

One of those tricky things in life is getting those darn skins off of hazelnuts.

I didn’t need to get every little bit of skin off of them, especially when they’re getting a trip to the Cuisinart. Getting all the flaky parts is the key.  After roasting them in the oven, I let them cool for about 10-15 minutes–they were still a mite warm, but easy to handle.  I piled them on one side of a towel, and folded over the other side, giving them a rubdown.  The skins slid right off.  From there, I saved the ones to be dipped in chocolate, and the rest went into the food processor to be finely ground.

After the meringues were baked and cooled, it was time to do some layerin’.

See what I mean about the uneven sizes of the meringues?  I could have trimmed them, yes, but I didn’t.  I went with it.

Besides, my family motto is gelu exuviae a vulgus of delictum* (Frosting covers a multitude of sins), as shown here:

I used the buttercream like spackle–filling in the gaps, and creating a smooth surface. with a very thin layer (you might hear Martha Stewart call it a “crumb coat”–ok, ok, I call it that, too).  I popped that into the fridge for about 30 minutes for the buttercream to set, then I spread the final coat for a nice, smooth finish.

I finally finished this around 2:30 in the morning–note that everything was looking great until the very last part–the piping at the bottom–I had finally hit the wall and the buttercream was getting really soft… well, let’s just say I usually do a much nicer job but there was a pillow screaming my name at that point.

Ah, there’s a nice cross-section for you.  It was as good as I remembered it, if not better.  I served it with a Zinfandel Port (very yummy, and only $10 from Trader Joe’s) that was absolutely perfect.

Can I tell you I’m sad that I don’t have any more?  I gave away the rest at the office on Monday morning, because that stuff is dangerous.  Who’s birthday is next?  Any major celebrations coming up?  C’mon, give me a reason to make another!