Archive for the 'dessert' Category
IT CANNOT POSSIBLY BE SEPTEMBER! How did that happen?? While everyone is bracing themselves for the back-to-school time crunch, I’m hoping things will slow down just a bit as W starts kindergarten (tomorrow!) and August upends itself into September. September!!
Can I let the pictures do the talking today? Isn’t a picture worth a thousand words? Here’s two thousand for ya.
And really – what more is there to say? I’m a fan of the crumble, but am always after the big, crunchy bits on top – more so than the crumby crumbs, anyway. So I decided to come up with a big-crumb crumble – all big, sweet, crunchy rubble, and lots of it. It looks a bit like a cobbler, but doesn’t have that biscuit quality – it’s more like a crunchy oatmeal cookie baked over juicy fruit.
You could do this with any fruit in season, of course. Right now it’s peaches. I added a frozen baggie of chopped rhubarb from the freezer (I’m determined to not let it see next spring) but raspberries or blackberries would do just as well – or plums, or apricots, or nothing at all but peaches.
Peach & Rhubarb Big-Crumb Crumble
Leftovers are delicious the next morning for breakfast, served with thick plain or vanilla yogurt.
5-6 peaches, unpeeled and thickly sliced
1 cup chopped fresh or frozen rhubarb, or fresh or frozen berries
1/2 cup sugar
1-2 tsp. cornstarch
Crumble topping:
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup oats (old-fashioned or quick-cooking)
1/2 cup sugar (white or brown)
1/4 cup butter
2 Tbsp. liquid honey or golden syrup
Preheat the oven to 375F. Thickly slice the peaches into a pie plate or shallow baking dish. Top with rhubarb or berries. In a small dish or measuring cup, stir the cornstarch into the sugar and sprinkle it over the fruit.
In a bowl (or the bowl of a food processor) combine the crumble ingredients and pulse or blend with a fork until well blended and sticky/crumbly. Sprinkle over the fruit, squeezing it as you go to create larger clumps. Bake for 40-45 minutes, until golden and the fruit is tender and bubbly around the edges. Serve warm, with ice cream or whipped cream. Serves 6.
P.S. I also made Baby Vanilla Plum Cakes on the weekend. I forgot to tell you.
You can find the recipe here.
One Year Ago: Jam Without a Recipe
At the Family Kitchen: Baby Vanilla Plum Cakes
September 01 2010 | dessert | 8 Comments »
Can you take another pie?
I remember my parents explaining to me why Christmas wouldn’t be special anymore if it came every day – it would just turn into the ordinary, into routine, and eventually we’d begin looking forward to something else. It seems this theory doesn’t apply to freshly baked pies. Especially when they arrive every day with ice cream.
It was Emily’s last day before heading back to school (her school has a modified schedule) and she wanted to spend her last afternoon making pie. (Not to suggest that baking a pie would take all afternoon – we did it during the 6 o’clock news.) E is a soccer star, and her season ended (at the provincials last weekend – yay E!), and there is now a month and a half before her indoor season begins. She decided to devote some of that time to baking. And making ice cream. Looks like I’d better take up jogging.
I let her choose what kind, while gently nudging her toward the stone fruits – nectarines, peaches, plums, cherries – she chose apple, but wanted to do something with the pint or so of raspberries she managed to forage in her back yard. We decided on apple-raspberry.
It didn’t take many raspberries – a cupful tossed over 6 or 7 apples did the trick. We carved slits in the top pastry to allow steam to escape. E’s Mom is a math teacher.
I love when something that wouldn’t have occurred to me if left to my own devices (and appetite) totally blows me away. The apple-raspberry combo was a perfect balance of sweet and tart, without worry of overjuiciness, which can be a risk in an all-raspberry pie. Also? It could very well come out tasting like pastry filled with hot jam.
What really did it for me (to me?) was the raspberry ice cream. Why is it that strawberry is such a primary flavour – right up there with chocolate and vanilla – while raspberries are completely neglected? Raspberries, unless you are lucky enough to acquire the very best strawberries, have more flavour and punch – we mashed them up, and stirred them into almost-frozen sweetened cream. I don’t think I can buy ice cream from the grocery store anymore. I may officially be spoiled.
I had made a double batch of pastry yesterday – the recipe from The Harrow Fair Cookbook. All my life I’ve spurned the idea of egg and vinegar in my pastry – I think I may be reformed. The recipe works perfectly. (I did use less salt and only 1 tsp. vinegar, which I doubt makes much difference.) Click on this photo – check out those flakes! (Here’s one of those instances where having flakes isn’t totally mortifying.) Which is not to say flakes like this cannot be achieved with flour-butter-lard-water alone. I’m just saying.
Apple-Raspberry Pie
pastry for a double crust pie
6-8 apples, peeled and sliced
2/3 cup sugar
2 Tbsp. flour
pinch salt
1-2 cups fresh raspberries (if you use frozen, don’t thaw them)
Preheat the oven to 450F. Line a 9-inch pie plate with pastry, fitting it in without stretching it – let the edges hang over the side.
Slice the apples into a large bowl. In a small bowl, stir together the sugar, flour and salt; add to the apples and toss them together. Pile them into the pastry, dumping any sugar left in the bottom of the bowl overtop. Scatter raspberries overtop.
Roll out the remaining pastry and place it over the pie; trim the edges (both layers) to about 1/2-inch past the edge of the pie plate. Tuck and crimp however you like, using your fingers or the tines of a fork. Cut a few slits in the top to allow steam to escape. If you like, brush the top with milk or cream, and if you like, sprinkle with a spoonful of sugar.
Bake the pie for 10 minutes, then reduce the heat to 350F and bake for another 45-50 minutes, until golden and juices are bubbling out through the slits. Cool on a wire rack.
Serves 8.
Fresh Raspberry Ice Cream
1 cup fresh raspberries
1 cup whipping cream
1/2 cup half & half
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup sugar
half a capful of vanilla
In a small bowl, mash the raspberries with a spoonful or two of the sugar with a fork. In another bowl, stir together the creams and milk, sugar and vanilla. Freeze in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s directions. When it gets thick and is frozen but still soft, pour in the raspberry puree. Let it go until it’s swirly, or wait longer until the whole mixture is pale pink.
Serve immediately or if you want it firmer, transfer to a container or bowl and put it in the freezer until firm. And please, try to share.
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August 18 2010 | dessert | 19 Comments »
Today was brought to you by the letter P: Peaches and Pie and Pierre.
I Prepared a Pretty Perfect Pie this morning. We were talking about pastry, and not five minutes after deciding on a topic yesterday I received a brand-new cookbook, one that instantly took a place of honour beside my bed (yes, this is why we only have one child). The Harrow Fair Cookbook was inspired by the annual agricultural fair in Harrow, Ontario that began in 1854. In this book are recipes for everything from blue-ribbon pies to farmstand salads, fritters, ice cream, fried chicken and preserves. It’s so directly up my alley. The authors, sisters Moira Sanders and Lori Elstone, wrote the book because they have such fond memories of attending the Harrow Fair as children. Their book is based on the principle that what we eat today should be as natural as it was 156 years ago, when the fair was established. If it includes pies like this first-place-ribbon-winning-peaches-and-cream beauty, I couldn’t agree more.
After the show I went to Pierre’s to Plan a Project. Remember Pierre?
He Picked some Particularly Perfumed Peaches around Penticton last week, and since I Planned to Pop in, he Pulled a Peach cake out of the oven, baked in a cast iron Pan.
Can you tell I have a Preschooler?
So that Pierre – he’s a pretty good cook. He topped whole, peeled peaches with a sweet, crusty cake batter in a cast iron skillet and baked it until it was puffed and golden and reminiscent of an inside-out Dutch baby. The peaches emerged warm and soft, and the chunks of vanilla-scented cake fell away onto the plate and were not long for this world.
So that was breakfast round 2, and not even late enough in the morning to count as elevenses.
Round 1 was pie, remember? If Pop Tarts can be categorized as breakfast (which is not to say that I agree that they should be), what’s wrong with peach pie? I typically use my Grandma’s pastry recipe, but I tried a formula from from The Harrow Fair Cookbook that called for an egg and some vinegar (it won’t add flavour, but will relax the gluten), and it was pretty fantastic. And I chose a peaches and cream pie, meaning a cup of cream was added to the peaches and sugar before pouring the lot into the pastry shell and lidding it – the result wasn’t so much custardy as creamy – the juices oozed out like melted ice cream when you cut a slice.
Peaches & Cream Pie
from The Harrow Fair Cookbook, by Moira Sanders and Lori Elstone with Beth Goslin Maloney
Filling:
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp. quick-cooking tapioca (I used cornstarch)
pinch fine sea salt
1 cup whipping cream
1/4 tsp. vanilla
4 cups pitted, sliced fresh peaches (the recipe specifies peeling but I didn’t bother, and used a little more than 4 cups)
1 recipe favourite pie crust (below)
extra cream, for brushing on top (optional)
sugar, for sprinkling (optional)
Preheat the oven to 375F.
In a large bowl, stir together the sugar, tapioca and salt. Whisk in the cream and vanilla. Toss the peaches in the cream mixture and set aside for 15 minutes at room temperature.
Roll out one disk of pie dough to fit a 9-inch pie plate, trimming pastry to 1/2-inch past the edge of the plate. Spoon the filling into the shell.
Roll the remaining crust out to a 9-inch circle and lay atop the filling (cutting slits or holes for steam to escape) or cut into 1-inch wide strips and make a lattice crust. Trim the edges of the top pastry to match the bottom, and crimp the edge with your fingers or a fork. If you like, brush the top of the pie with cream, and sprinkle with sugar.
Bake for 50-55 minutes, until golden and bubbling (if you like, place the pie on a baking sheet to catch drips). Cool to room temperature before slicing. Makes 1 pie.
Favourite Pie Crust
from The Harrow Fair Cookbook, by Moira Sanders and Lori Elstone with Beth Goslin Maloney
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. fine sea salt
1/2 cup lard, chilled and cubed
1/2 cup unsalted butter, chilled and cubed
1 large egg
2 tsp. vinegar
ice cold water
In a large bowl, stir together the flour and salt. Add the lard and butter and blend with a pastry cutter or food processor until it’s blended with some pieces of fat the size of small peas.
In a small dish or measuring cup, stir the egg and vinegar together with a fork, then add cold water to make 1/2 cup. Add to the flour mixture and stir just until the dough comes together.
Divide the dough into two pieces and shape each into a disc; wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate or freeze until needed.
Makes enough for one double-crust or two single-crust pies.
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August 17 2010 | dessert | 23 Comments »
I thought I posted this on Tuesday morning, before we packed it up and headed for the ferry. Did I not? Have you not seen this? I swear it was up, but I just noticed that it wasn’t. I guess I do have a little something for you, then. I had half-written the story of W’s fifth birthday and our stay at the Met, but am having some internet problems and the powers that be won’t allow my photos to upload, so I suppose that news will have to wait. (We have to hit the road early (back to Calgary!), and I’m covering traffic on CBC Friday morning, which means a 4:30 wakeup (3:30 BC time), which means I need to take advantage of this heavenly bed while I still can… bracing myself for reentry.)
On our last afternoon in Tofino I made a free-form plum tart to use up the last of the plums. I had it in my mind to make something fruity and cornmeal-y, like a blueberry cornmeal buckle or biscuits or something, but I wound up making pastry. It’s easy enough with just a fork and a bowl, and if you make a crostata-galette-free-form pie sort of thing, there’s even no need for a pie plate.
Because I want something like a plum tart to be not just sweet, but tart (plums shouldn’t be overly thickened and sugary, in my opinion, unless they are meant to be jam, and even then they should retain some of their tart character), I used just under 1/4 cup of sugar, but you can add it to suit your taste.
Plum Crostata with Cornmeal Crust
Adapted from Everyday Food.
Crust:
1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup fine yellow cornmeal
1/2 tsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup cold butter, cut into pieces
Filling:
1 1/2 pounds red plums, pitted and thinly sliced
1/3 cup sugar, or to taste
1 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
In a bowl (or the bowl of a food processor) combine the flour, cornmeal, sugar and salt; add the butter and blend in with a pastry cutter or fork (or pulse the food processor) until combined, with some pieces the size of a pea remaining. Add 2 tablespoons very cold water and stir until the dough comes together – add another tablespoon if it needs it. Flatten dough into a disk; wrap it in plastic, and refrigerate at least 1 hour (or up to a few days).
When you’re ready to make your pie, take the crust out of the fridge and let it sit on the countertop for 10 minutes or so to make it more pliable. Preheat the oven to 400F.
On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to a 14-inch (ish) circle. Line a baking sheet with parchment or foil and transfer the dough to the sheet. (Don’t worry if it hangs over the edges.)
In a large bowl, toss together the sugar and flour; add the plums and toss to coat. Mound plum mixture in center of the crust, leaving a 2-inch border all around. Fold the edge of the pastry over the fruit, letting it fold where it wants to.
Bake for 40-45 minutes, until tart until crust is golden and filling is bubbly. Transfer baking sheet to a rack; let cool 20 minutes. Slice and serve warm or at room temperature.
Serves 8.
August 03 2010 | dessert | 5 Comments »
It really sounds like the very best day of the year, doesn’t it? In 2003 Anita Stewart (whom I was lucky enough to finally meet in person a few weeks ago in Calgary) launched Food Day -a national celebration of restaurateurs, suppliers, growers, farmers and eaters- to be held the first Saturday of the first weekend in August. On this day each summer Canadians are encouraged to eat whatever is local and in season, and to share it online. Click here to share your own Food Day stories. (Even if it’s just to report what you had for dinner.) I love that Food Day not only allows us to share ideas and share what grows in each region of the country, it helps us Canadians define our food culture – and exactly what Canadian cuisine is, anyway.
Being out in Tofino, on the furthestmost west end of Canada, we celebrated the day with some crab plucked from the waters outside our window, fished from kayaks, and wee grilled cheese sandwiches made with BC aged white cheddar and leaves of fresh basil from a plant bought at the Tofino Saturday morning market, on thinly sliced baguette baked at Jupiter. (Breakfast was bagels from the Six Hundred Degree Bakery – a naturally leavened, wood fired bakery here in Tofino – some of them turned into bageleggs.)
For dinner we ate salads made with a head of red leaf lettuce snipped from the side yard of our ninetysomething next-door neighbours, who maintain an impressive garden filled with tomatoes, beans, beets, beautiful heads of lettuce and rows of chard (I have chard envy) beside their sundial. In it, roasted beets and crumbled feta from Nanaimo.
For dessert, I ran over to Beaches grocery and picked up a bag of BC peaches and a paper tub of tiny blackberries that just arrived from Nanoose Bay. We debated what to do with them – oh the pressure! – crisp? buckle? pie? I’ve made two cobblers this summer already. As I dithered (and dished up dinner) it got late, and so a quick crumble won. And really, as I thickly sliced and piled the unpeeled peaches and berries into shallow ramekins (bigger surface area) alone – we eat the fruit straight out of hand and find it plenty sweet enough – why add sugar and cornstarch to bake it? – and topped it with the rubble of flour, sugar, oats and butter I had hastily mashed together with a fork and my fingers, I knew it was exactly what I wanted it to be.
As usual, I didn’t follow a recipe. I sliced up the fruit and put it in ramekins as is, and the crumble was equal parts (I used a 1/2 cup measure) flour, sugar and oats – generally I use brown sugar, but we’re out, so I used white and added a tiny dribble of molasses, and it worked fine – with about half as much (about 1/4 cup, although you could go ahead and use more) butter. If I had pecans, I would have thrown some in too. Blend it all together with a fork and scatter over top of the fruit – squeezing as you do to make bigger clumps – and bake it until the juices run out and the topping is golden (for me, it was 40 minutes at 375F). That’s it.
You can’t really underbake a crumble or crisp – you’d eat peaches and blackberries raw, wouldn’t you? You just want to make sure the topping is golden, and thus crisp. There’s a big window so it won’t need babysitting – I pulled one out early, after about 25 minutes, for my sister, who was hopping into the tub and wanted some to take with her. That one was firmer – more like warmed, soft fresh fruit – but still golden on top and no less delicious. The ones that baked longer released more of their juices and the fruit was softer and crumbs darker golden; both more than worthy for a Food Day Canada feast. We topped them with vanilla bean gelato from Chocolate Tofino.
Happy days.
July 31 2010 | dessert | 18 Comments »
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