Archive for the 'dessert' Category
Today would have been my Grandad’s birthday. If he were still around, he’d be 105.
A few things you should know about my Grandad:
He’s the only one I had.
His name was Fred. Not Frederick – just Fred.
He went to University at 90 (or thereabouts) to learn how to use a computer. If memory serves, he finished with 90%. And worried what he’d do if he needed that other 10%.
He started a construction company, and built the Ford factory in Detroit, and Hiram Walker in Windsor. (Now they build wind turbines. He’d think that was pretty cool.)
Whenever he said goodbye, he said “see you on the salmon can!” – to this day no one knows what that meant, but it seemed like a perfectly normal salutation to me as a kid.
He always dressed for dinner, and sat at the head of the long dining room table that looked out on the Detroit river. Once my grandmother had served everyone, none of us could make a sound (in a playful, not a strict way) until he took a bite and approved. Of course he always approved.
These are his hands:
His favourite dessert was a scoop of vanilla ice cream with caramel or butterscotch sauce.
One day when I was a teenager my dad tried to sneak him some low-fat yogurt / frozen soy product. It didn’t go well.
My grandma bought those little tins of caramel sauce, and one can hardly blame her, as she was in her eighties and had spent most of her life making fantastic meals – and pastry from scratch – for my Grandad, my mom and her three brothers, and for subsequent families, aunts, uncles and cousins. She was known for her marmalade cookies, and the plum puddings she’d make at Christmas. But that’s another story. Point is, she’d have made great caramel, too.
Caramel can be an intimidating thing to make. But if it’s something you’d like to master, I suggest giving it a go, playing with sugar over heat, with water or without, just to get a feel for it. The best way to learn anything is by doing it, and sugar is about as cheap a practicing medium as they get.
A few things you should know about caramel:
To make it, all you need to do is heat sugar until it turns golden – into caramel.
Sometimes water or syrup or both are added, generally to help get things started and slow things down – it keeps the sugar from going from zero straight to deep golden.
Despite what many recipes instruct you don’t need to hover over your pot, washing the sides down with a pastry brush dipped in water. In fact, doing this adds more water to the caramel, increasing the cooking time because all that water will have to cook off. (This is done to keep the caramel from crystallizing, but it doesn’t, really – it washes down the crystals that have actually formed.)
If you add a few drops of lemon juice to the sugar-water-syrup mixture at the beginning, it will keep crystals from forming in the first place. Also? You can stir to dissolve the sugar, but once it starts boiling, keep utensils out of it. You need only occasionally lift the pot and swirl it around.
Once it turns golden, it’s caramel – the hotter and more deeply coloured it gets, the firmer it will be when it cools. Once it begins to turn, it moves fast – it will seem to take forever to start caramelizing, and then will darken at close to the speed of sound.
Caramel sauce is made by then whisking a liquid, like cream, into the caramelized sugar as soon as it reaches this point, which causes it to seize up (to set, really), and spatter and steam ferociously. But then it calms down and the hardened bits melt, and it turns into a sauce, rather than firming up into something chewy or hard. And so it’s an easy thing to make, since you don’t have to worry about temperatures or rely on thermometers and such. You just swirl your pan of sugar until it turns a deep golden, then whisk in cream. Butter too, if you like, but that’s it. And what you’ll wind up with is a sublime sauce – as thick or thin as you like, depending on how much liquid you add – and it will be better than any you’ll find on a grocery store shelf, yet cost under a dollar to make, depending solely on the amount of cream you use. You could get fancy and add chocolate or vanilla or espresso or orange or bourbon, but don’t underestimate the flavour potential of pure caramelized sugar and cream.
The problem, I must warn you, is that you’ll then have access to said caramel. And I like to think of it less as caramel sauce and more as spoon caramel, because mostly what I do is pause at the fridge door, pull out a spoon, dip it in, lick it off, and repeat until Mike wonders aloud what happened to all the spoons.
If my Grandad was here, I’d make him caramel for his sundaes.
Caramel Sauce
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup water (or thereabouts)
1/4 tsp. lemon juice (or a few drops)
1/2 cup heavy (whipping) cream
1-2 Tbsp. butter (optional)
pinch salt (optional)
In a heavy saucepan, heat the sugar, water and lemon juice over medium-high heat. If you like, stir until the sugar dissolves. Otherwise, just swirl the pan occasionally.
Keep cooking it, swirling it occasionally, until it starts to turn golden. Don’t leave it after this point – swirl the pan more often until it turns deep golden. Have the cream and butter ready and pull the pot off the heat and add them (or just cream) immediately as soon as it turns deep golden – it will spatter and steam. Stir until smooth – if there are any set chunks of caramel in the pot, they will melt back in. If you like, stir in a pinch of salt.
Cool completely and pour into a jar to keep in the fridge.
January 30 2012 | dessert | 34 Comments »
Tiramisu is the sort of dessert I love, but yet rarely order. It’s so often disappointing in restaurants – this statement makes me sound like I’m at an Italian restaurant a few nights a week – but isn’t it? And I’m pretty sure the bad ones have just as many calories. Tiramisu is also the sort of thing I never think of making. There don’t seem to be many occasions that scream for tiramisu.
And yet, it’s so tasty when done well, and you get that bonus coffee hit at the end of the meal, too. And so when Sue’s sister Holly, whom I’ve known since Junior High and now that I think about it was responsible for introducing me to Mike, called out for help via Facebook, I was happy to take on the tiramisu challenge. She’s planning to make tiramisu for Christmas dinner dessert, but all recipes seemed too complicated, too raw-eggy or too boozy. Good news! You can totally ditch the booze if you like. Or at least replace it with coffee or Kahlua – or Bailey’s! Something you have on hand.. I never have Marsala in the house anyway.
You’ll need a package of these. And some mascarpone – a rich, creamy Italian cream cheese – although depending on who’s eating it, you could get away with plain old cream cheese. Call it cheesecake tiramisu and they’ll let you off the hook for its inauthenticity.
Tonight we’re having an evening of Christmas caroling with drinks and dessert at my mom’s – as good an excuse as any to take tiramisu for a spin, don’t you think? As I made it I realized what a great idea it is for Christmas dinner dessert – kinda special, unusual, great for a crowd, and since it has to be chilled for at least 6 hours, perfect to make ahead, or take with you if you’re tasked with providing dessert elsewhere. You don’t need to even worry about whipping the cream for the top of your pie or whatever you’ve made in advance – it’s all just done. Brilliant!
It’s not too tough to make, either. You start with some egg yolks, and in this version beat them with sugar and Marsala or coffee in a bowl set over a pot of simmering water. It’ll start out looking like this:
And five minutes later, look like this. Then you beat in the mascarpone, and fold it into your whipped cream. Voilà! You can do it. Try not to eat it all straight from the bowl.
Then make some coffee – instant is fine – and stir in some Kahlua or Tia Maria or rum or something. Find a dish that will fit 12 ladyfingers in the bottom. (A package has 24, and you’ll need two layers.)
Dip the ladyfingers into the coffee – quickly, don’t let them soak or they’ll start to fall apart – and then lay them into the bottom of the dish. Top with half your cream mixture, then another layer of dipped ladyfingers, and the rest of the cream. That’s it.
Smooth the top, and sprinkle with cocoa powder. I like to use a tea spoon (like a tea ball – the kind you fill with loose tea and set in your mug of boiling water) – spoon out some cocoa and shake it overtop. Works like a charm.
Cover and refrigerate for 6 hours, or up to a day. Then all you need to do is uncover and eat.
Merry Christmas Holly! Thanks for the Mike.
Tiramisu
adapted from Gourmet, January 2009
1 Tbsp. instant espresso
1/2 cup sugar, divided
2 Tbsp. Kahlua or Tia Maria
3 large egg yolks
1/3 cup dry Marsala or cooled coffee
1 1/2-2 cups mascarpone (or soft cream cheese)
1 cup heavy (whipping) cream
24 savoiardi (Italian ladyfingers – one package)
cocoa, for dusting
Stir the espresso powder and about 1 Tbsp. of the sugar into 1 cup of boiling (or at least very hot) water. Stir in the Kahlua and pour into a shallow bowl-one you can dip the ladyfingers in.
In a glass or stainless steel bowl set over a pot of simmering water, beat the egg yolks, remaining sugar and coffee or Marsala on high speed for 5-8 minutes, until the mixture pales and triples in volume. Remove from heat and beat in the mascarpone or cream cheese. It will deflate the egg yolk mixture somewhat – don’t worry – just get the lumps of cheese out.
In another bowl, beat the cream until stiff peaks form. Gently fold in the mascarpone mixture.
Get out a dish that will accommodate 12 ladyfingers in the bottom, and then dip each ladyfinger into the coffee mixture, then lay it in the bottom of the dish. Lay 12 in the bottom, then top with half the mascarpone mixture. Add another layer of dipped ladyfingers, then the rest of the mascarpone mixture, smoothing the top. Sprinkle with cocoa, cover and refrigerate for at least 6 hours, or up to a day.
Let the tiramisu stand at room temperature for about 30 minutes before serving it (the flavour is better if it’s not so cold), and if you need to, dust again with cocoa. Serves 8-10.
December 22 2011 | dessert | 16 Comments »
We had our annual Christmas party this weekend – the theme this year, as the past two, was polyester & cheese. As in, wear polyester (the cheesier, the better), and bring a chunk of cheese. It’s an idea we shamelessly stole from good friends who did it a few years ago. Polyester offers so many more options – and less itchy ones – than those tired tacky sweaters.
So. There was a lot of cheese. And crackers, bread, wild boar pate, and loads of Christmas cookies and squares. House parties are just the very best thing at Christmas, aren’t they? They remind me of being a kid and getting to stay up late with the neighbourhood kids while my parents were distracted, and of hiding under the dining room table-turned-buffet, reaching up to steal the occasional Hello Dolly. I’m still a little giddy that I’m the boss of me now and can eat as many Hello Dollies as I want.
I tried not to cook much, as my back is still a little choked at me – but I had to make Hello Dollies, and some spiced nuts, eccles cakes, rugelach, and a cheese ball. A cheese ball is a must at any Christmas house party, I say, and this year I made Lisa‘s (the Homesick Texan) bacon-jalapeño cheese ball, because I had the chance to meet (and even have dinner with!) her this year, and because it looked fantastic. And it had bacon.
The recipe is on her site – the only thing I did was cut the jalapeño back to 1, and lazily mixed all the cooked bacon into the ball, rolling it exclusively in chopped toasted pecans. I also used far more grated cheddar, as I read “1 1/2 cups” rather than “1/2 cup”, and W was helping me and was enthusiastic about grating and adding even more to the bowl, but it’s a cheese ball – if it will hold together well enough to roll into a ball, you’re in good shape.
And then I made some pecan pie brownies, because after all that it seemed we were lacking in the chocolate department. They were Gwendolyn’s Pecan Pie Brownies, something she had found in an NBC Sunday Night Football Cookbook, of all places. I made a few changes – ditched the bourbon, not because I’m anti-bourbon, but because I don’t want it to interfere with my chocolate, caramel and pecans. Ditto the cinnamon. (Am I the only one that doesn’t appreciate the chocolate-cinnamon combo?) And I swapped Roger’s Golden syrup for the corn syrup, because I like the flavour far better. (Golden syrup is cane syrup, rather than corn syrup, but it has a similar texture, so I use them interchangeably.) You bake the brownies, then cool them, then pour the topping over top and bake them again. They will be uber moist and gooey and need some coaxing to get them out of the pan -which happily means a few mucked ones to sample as you cut. (Quality control is important.) If I had the freezer space I might have frozen it first – gooey bars always cut more cleanly when frozen.
Pecan Pie Brownies
Brownies:
1/2 cup butter
3/4 cup cocoa
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup flour
1/4 tsp salt
Pecan Pie Topping:
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup Roger’s Golden or corn syrup
1/4 cup butter, melted
2 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
2 cups pecans, chopped
Preheat oven to 325F. In a medium saucepan, melt the butter with the cocoa over medium heat, stirring and removing from the heat as soon as the butter melts. Stir until smooth, then stir in the sugar. Stir in the eggs and vanilla until smooth, then add the flour and salt and stir just until combined.
Pour into an 8×8-inch baking dish that has been buttered or sprayed with nonstick spray; smooth the top. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, then let cool completely.
To make the topping, stir together the brown sugar, syrup, butter, eggs and vanilla until smooth. Stir in the pecans and pour over the base. Bake for 35-40 minutes, or until golden and set.
Let cool completely, then refrigerate for at least two hours before serving.
Makes 16-24 brownies.
And have you heard of our Random Acts of Cheese? We’ve had some fun this weekend, popping in on two people we’ve never met, showing up on their doorsteps with Mike in a Santa suit holding a box of cheese. Allyson and Michelle were the happy (and totally surprised) recipients this weekend, but we’ll continue to play Mr and Mrs Claus all week, spreading cheesy cheer all over the city. Have someone you’d like to acknowledge with a box of cheese? Say so here! (Or here, or on twitter (hashtag: #randomactsofcheese), or Facebook… we’re keeping tabs everywhere!
December 18 2011 | cookies & squares and dessert | 21 Comments »
This week needed to end with a wee ramekin of baked rice pudding, and some red wine, and a good book. If I had it my way all Sunday nights would wind down like this.
The week culminated in a dinner party at the home of a couple who purchased me at a silent auction at a fundraiser a year or so ago, and so wanting to pull off a fun evening, I made curried sweet potato, carrot, ginger & red lentil soup, prawns in fenugreek cream, and enlisted their help (there was an element of teaching in the evening) in assembling a large batch of the Nenshi family samosas. For the main course: Vij’s chicken curry, chana masala, roasted cauliflower, curried peas and paneer, spiced beef short ribs, homemade naan and marinated green beans. For dessert, vanilla & ginger crème brûlée (great recipe, but I cut the sugar in half and it was plenty sweet) with Tonka bean shortbread. There were leftovers, and so my family came for dinner tonight.
Rather than replicate the crème brûlée (I couldn’t face another 10 egg whites in the freezer) I recalled a recipe for individual baked rice puddings I had wanted to try. The method could not be more simple – set out as many ramekins as you want rice puddings (if you set them on a baking sheet lined with a silpat mat, they won’t slip around) and get out a bag of short-grain rice, some sugar and milk or cream and your measuring spoons.
Put a heaping tablespoon of short-grain (Arborio) rice, two teaspoons of sugar and a half cup of milk or cream (half & half or heavy – it’s up to you) in each ramekin. I had infused my cream with ginger already, which is to say I put it into a saucepan with a few slices of fresh ginger and turned up the heat until it was steaming. You could do this if you like. If so, strain out the ginger or pick out the slices with your fingers. (Don’t burn yourself.) These ramekins? Two for $1.25 at Dollarama.
The recipe says to grate a little nutmeg over each after adding the milk. I like this. But if you plan to pull off the pudding skin, you’ll lose much of the nutmeg, too. Next time I’ll grate it over the rice and sugar before pouring over the milk or cream. You could add a bit of vanilla, as well as or instead of. Or use brown sugar for a more caramelly rice pud. Flavour them however you like, really.
Bake them at 325°F for an hour. I love that you could bake one of these, or two, or ten, it doesn’t matter. If you have a cake or loaf baking, you could tuck a few into the oven alongside. They will puff up, then sink back down. The edges of the ramekins will wind up coated with caramelized milk.
Once they settle back, they will be warm and thick and sweet – at this point, the recipe instructs pulling off the golden rice pudding skin. This is like the dessert equivalent of pulling the skin off a roasted chicken and eating it yourself.
Add about a tablespoon (feel free to free-pour) of cream to each ramekin and stir it in; this will loosen it up a bit and make it far creamier. At this point you could stir in a few raisins, if you’re that type. Eat it warm or chill it, or chill it and then brûlée it – sprinkle a layer of sugar over and torch it or run it under the broiler until it caramelizes, then chill until it’s hard enough to crack a spoon through. You could conceivably have a stash of these single-serving puddings in the fridge, and brûlée one or two each night as needed. Apply directly to face; repeat.
I love too that you don’t need a recipe for these; I can imagine years down the road making these little rice puddings on autopilot, tucking them into the oven (or toaster oven) when dessert is called for. Or breakfast. Or a warm and comforting after-school snack.
While I have your attention – I was thinking we should have another get-together. The mother of all cookie exchanges! What do you think? A cookie party to follow the pie party?
I’m thinking Saturday the 10th. Save the date! Or at least a couple hours in the afternoon.
November 27 2011 | dessert | 41 Comments »
I thought you might like a pie. I actually made this for the pie party, and then again for something else, I think, or maybe I just made a mental note to. Walnuts make delicious pies – why should pecans get all the attention? And besides, maple and walnuts are a perfect ice cream pairing. With a filling you stir together in approximately two minutes, nut pies are as easy to make as pies get, and strangely satisfying to make in the fall. Like I’m channeling my inner squirrel.
If you’re a hard-core nuts and caramel fanatic you could make this a double whammy and top a slice with a scoop of maple walnut or butter pecan ice cream.
Maple Walnut Pecan Pie
Pastry for a single crust pie
Filling:
1 cup packed brown sugar
3/4 cup pure maple syrup
1/2 cup golden syrup (such as Roger’s or Lyle’s)
3 large eggs
1/4 cup butter, softened
1/4 tsp. salt
1 cups pecan halves, toasted
1 cups walnut halves, toasted
Line a pie plate with pastry and crimp the edges. In a medium bowl, stir together the brown sugar, maple syrup, golden syrup, eggs, butter and salt. (Don’t worry about getting all the lumps of butter out.) Scatter the pecans and walnuts over the bottom of the shell and pour the mixture overtop. Set on a rimmed baking sheet and bake at 350F for 50-60 minutes, until set. Cool completely before cutting.
November 07 2011 | dessert | 14 Comments »
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