Minor Gourmandry

Pucker-free Lemon Bundt Cake

Looking for a lip-licking Lemon Poundcake recipe, I picked up the latest Cook's Illustrated's (Jan/Feb '06) issue. No poundcake, but a "Best Lemon Bundt" on page 25. According to Cook's, poundcake has "lots" of fat and "not much" liquid, which contributes to its rich and compact crumb; a Bundt is supposed to have a moist, rich, but a tad lighter crumb, with moderate amounts of fat and liquid. From experience, a bakery-made slice of poundcake is hefty in the hand, whereas a Bundt weighs less and has visibly less moisture.

Knowing Cook's ouevre, you'd know they each article involves forming the "best" recipe from about 38 trial-and-error versions. The writers/cooks give new meaning to the "learn from your mistakes" adage. While it's hard to argue with their exhaustive methodology, I've had some beef with my results using their recipes. All ill-will aside, Cook's Illustrated is a wonderful magazine for the meticulous chef, or the curious cook with the ambitions of a pro but the trappings of a home kitchen.

Cook's Illustrated's recipe, with my alterations and notes:

  Cake

A (wet 1)

Grated zest of 3 Lemons plus…

3 tbsp of lemon juice (from the 3 lemons you juiced thoroughly)

B (Dry)

3 cups (15 ounces) ap flour

1 tsp. baking powder

½ tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. salt

C (wet 2)

1tsp vanilla extract

¾ cup buttermilk

D

3 large eggs PLUS 1 egg yolk [combine yolk and 3 eggs with a little whisking]

E

18 tbsp. (2 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter around room temp.

2 cups (14 ounces) sugar

  Glazzze

2-3 tbsp. lemon juice [I advise you use 2 tbsp., and then whisk in another 1/2-1 tbsp. before pouring]

1 tbsp. buttermilk

2 cups (8 ounces) confectioner’s sugar

- Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees,

- Spray baking spray with flour on a 12-cup Bundt Pan (Nordic Ware platinum-series is recommended by Cook’s. I used an older, super sturdy Nordic pan, but I felt it sucked up too heat due to its black nonstick insides).

- you need 3 small bowls (one should be at least big enough to hold all of the Dry), 1 medium (for glaze)

1. Mince the lemon zest and let it macerate in the bowl of lemon juice (remove those seeds though) for 10-15 minutes.

2. Whisk together dry B-ingredients in a small bowl and set aside.

3. In a standing mixer, whip E together on medium-high for about 1 min. 30 seconds. Scrape down the sides before proceeding.

4. Place half the egg mix (D) into the bowl, and combine on low speed. Repeat with the rest of the egg mix.

5. Now, take the dry B-ingredients and put 1/3rd of that into the standing mixer. Combine A and C (the wet), and then pour half of that into the mixer.

[Yes, it’s important to not just dump it in altogether. Stay focused!] Another 1/3rd of B, and then the rest of wet A/C (buttermilk, lemon juice, and so forth).

6. Combine the last 1/3rd of dry B on low. After about 10-20 secs, very little flour should be visible – although some flour along the sides of the bowl is excusable.

7. Scrape the batter (it should be pretty thick) into the prepared Bundt pan, and work it into the pockets of the pan.

8. Bake the Bundt for 45-50 minutes. (My DARK pan went for 36; ‘twas a clean toothpick if you need to know…)

9. GLAZE: Whisk of all the glaze ingredients together in a small-medium bowl. Glaze should be thick, delicious, and pourable.

10. When the cake comes out of the oven, let it sit for 10 minutes, and then reverse the cake onto some cooling surface. Pour 1/2 to 2/3rd of the glaze around the cake. The glaze should not just slop off the sides, it should stick in most places.

11. Allow 1 hour for cooling, and finish the cake. Then wait as long as you can (like 10 minutes) before eating the crap out of it.

Using the two exclusive glazings, the final Bundt will have a delicate white frost that presents well and holds in flavor for several days after baking. The cake should be ultra-delicious, and even if you screw up and bake some of the lemon flavor out of the cake itself, you have the delicious glaze to save you. Hooray!

The cake stayed delicious for three days. It won't last any longer, because someone will surely have eaten it by then

Check out this eGullet thread (no registration required) for more lemon cake/bar/etc recipes.

Cookie Concocting

I've been craving a good Peanut Butter cookie lately. Local bakeries tend to leave them grossly underbaked, so I am left with only one option: to make them at home. Of course, this is no problem.

But I also have these (despicable) Tollhouse semi-sweet chocolate chips that I am dying to get rid of...and...I've also been wanting to make a chocolate chip cookie with oatmeal, finely processed oatmeal.

And so I shall have them all -- a peanut butter-hued, chocolate chipped, processed-oatmeal cookie. Yum. Now I just have to figure out how to make it work.

Because it's the first cookbook I see, I opened up The Dessert Bible by Chris Kimball. Flipping to the "drop and shaped cookies" section, I found a recipe for Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies that was prefaced with the famous Neiman Marcus Cookie story. (For chrissakes enough with that cookie recipe already, everyone's article cites a different recipe!)  I decided to proportion my ingredients to match Kimball's recipe, with a few minor changes and additions.

The minor Alterations

First, of course, was the addition of Peanut Butter. A typical peanut butter cookie recipe uses a cup of peanut butter, smooth, chunky, or otherwise. I decide that a generous 1/2 cup of peanut butter will provide the needed flavor without screwing with the cookie's texture. I felt that knocking the butter down 1/2 stick (or 2 oz. or 4 tbsp.) would be appropriate to maintaining the intended dough consistency. Plus, it's nearly an even substitution calorically, if anyone's counting.

Classier cookbooks ask for natural peanut butter because it contains less salt (and other additives like MSG and sugar). I opt for Smucker's Natural because the peanut oils do not separate as much as health store jar butters do. Despite this helpful feature, Smucker's does lack natural peanut flavor (see this PB ratings guide), but I guess you can't get everything right.

With the addition of natural peanut butter, you should cut back on salt -- no more than 1/4 tsp.

The New Recipe: Peanut Butter Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

I.
1.5 cups (12 tbsp.) butter, softened
1/2 cup brown sugar [up to 3/4th cup is fine, I just ran out at a 1/2]
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup peanut butter [I used Smucker's Natural, which was nearly smooth]
II. Wet
2 eggs at room temperature
1 tsp. vanilla extract
III. Dry goods
2 cups all-purpose flour
1.5 cups oatmeal, ground in processor until finely cut [mealy, not like a fine flour]
1 tsp. baking powder
IV.
8 oz. (about 1.5 cups) of good chocolate chips
*V. Advised and Revised (see below)
2 tbsp. sourcream (or whole milk yogurt if you're out)

The Process:
In a stand mixer - beat the butter just to mush it up, then add the sugars and beat until it starts to appear whipped (until curled edges, say 3 minutes). Scrape the whipped butter-sugar off the sides and add the Peanut Butter; beat until the same effect happens again (less than a minute on medium).

Add the eggs one at a time and beat until just combined. Then do the same with the vanilla.

The flour, baking powder, and finely chopped oats should be combined well in a separate - no pockets of powder should be visible. With a rubber ____, combine the flour in two parts. Basically, you don't want to beat the crap out of the dough ball. I would recommend a 15 minute rest in the refrigerator, but this step is not scientifically crucial.

I used my new Scooper (56mm) to cup the dough into balls - I ended up with 18 cookies. Place about 9 cookies on a baking sheet, flatten them slightly (they will not spread much, and then place them in the middle of a 360-degrees oven. I don't trust 350-degrees with thick cookies like these.

The Results

Visuals: The cookie is paler than cookies made with more brown sugar, and also flatter. More appealing than Kimball's "Best," but not gourmet bakery sexy.
Texture/Mouthfeel: Firm outer skin, but all PB-moist inside. The chocolate chips add a much needed snap; nuts, as a replacement or addition, would provide a similar crunch. The interior, due to the oats and sticky PB, draws moisture away from your mouth. You'll start to want some milk, bad.
Taste: Good-great. The peanut butter shines through, and the oat-enhanced cookie dough around it tastes swell as well. The Tollhouse Chocolate Chips, though, are weak in flavor. Use them if you must, but look for a better alternative (remember, don't put in a whole damn bag of chip).

*With the mouth moisture reduction and ensuing craving for milk, I thought that a couple tablespoons of sour cream or whole milk yogurt would add more moisture to the cookies, and also contrast the peanut butter with a little sour. That would be awesome.

Check back soon for 2.0

Madeleines...Madelines

My first attempt at making Proust's favorite cookie resulted in a complete failure. (Have you ever seen a recipe that doesn't mention Proust?) I place part of the blame on the recipe, which was obtained from Regan Daley's In the Sweet Kitchen, simply because nearly everything I try from this tabletop cookbook fails. I believe the problem was an abundance of moisture, thanks mostly to the heavy honey employed in the recipe. The madeleine came out as a dense scaloped pancake with little distinctive flavor. My dark non-stick pan also burned the edges unforgivably. Like I said, it was a complete failure.

For my second attempt, I wanted to start anew. I returned the madeleine mold to Williams-Sonoma and got the traditional shiny aluminum mold (not available online), which I stubbornly refused to buy the first time around despite several recomendations. I wanted these new madeleines to taste similar to the one available at Le Petit Mitron, my local supplier of Parisian sweets. Their madeleine is dense with flavor, with a hint of lemon to cut through the distinguished vanilla and butter flavor (my guess is they use clarified butter, which has no water and few milk solids*).

On Leite's Culinaria I located a recipe for Gourmet Magazine's version, which seemed like it would produce a light vanilla, pound-cakey madeleine. Plus, the process is ridiculously easy, more than I can say for many mulit-task madeleine recipes. One bowl and an electric mixer covers the supplies.

I've heard from a few sources, mostly French, that leaving the eggs out for at least an hour is best for madeleine recipes. When a room temperature egg is cracked, less mixing is required to whip the egg yolks and whites. Gourmet's recipe was different than others I'd found, in that the eggs weren't separated or whipped, but just blended with the sugar. Then the vanilla and orange peel are added, and finally the cup of all-purpose flour. The trouble here is mixing too much.

The batter looks and smells a lot like a simple butter cake, although it does have a heavenly Madagascar Bourbon vanilla flavor. I spooned the batter into the prepared pan and then into my 375-degrees oven they went. Some recipes call for a short rest in the refrigerator, which supposedly develops the cookie's hump by allowing it to relax the proteins (I think). You certainly could accomodate for that step with this recipe.

Finally it was time to taste. The vanilla flavor was less pronounced then I thought, but that was fine, because the orange peel was allowed to peak through. It tasted a little like a butter-cupcake, but the texture was tighter and smooth. Some of the sides were slightly singed, but the aluminum mold really did the job fine -- just make sure to butter the scalloped-edges. Now, go forth and make your own! (RECIPE BELOW, or hit link)

*Here's a link to Joy of Baking, which has a recipe that uses clarified butter (plus an explanation on how to make it from any old unsalted stick).

A Father's Pecan Pie

In a recent post I dutifully explained that had I planned no official entry for the last Sugar High Friday event (#9), in part because Father's Day was Sunday and I wanted old Pa to get his favorite dessert fresh. (And in part because I was too lazy to make and fill two short pastry crusts back to back.) Everything worked out fine, though, because Dad got his Pecan Pie, and I wrote unofficially about an Apple Crosata to fill the SHF gap.

Since I'd never made this dessert before, I really wanted to make a classic Pecan Pie. The first recipe I came across was an enticing sounding Chocolate Pecan Pie from Alice Medrich's Bittersweet, but it was just too novel for my purposes. I wanted Grandma's pie. Luckily, I also had Chris Kimball's Dessert Bible in the house. Although it wasn't Grandma's version, Kimball had a simple recipe that was bound to be delicious. In case you're unfamiliar with the man, he is the editor in chief of Cook's Illustrated, a didactic and hand illustrated magazine to which I suscribe. What I like about C.I. is that they test every recipe to death - the editors have a divine patience - practically guaranteeing the final product will be a success in the home. And with such practiced and detailed methodology, the home cook's final result looks and tastes like the recipe's author describes it should.

Kimball's basic recipe instructs to bake the crust and the filling at the same time - no pre-baking, no cooking the pecan filling. At the bottom of the recipe he lists a variation, which requires that you perform the two extra steps, but also deepens the flavor of the pecan filling and makes for a flakier crust. I opted to go with the variation. Regardless of variation, the first step was to make the short pastry dough. I won't go into a great deal of depth explaining the details, but I will post the ingredients and instructions below.

Note Kimball's use of both butter and vegetable shortening - this makes the crust much easier to roll out while retaining a buttery flavor. I still had trouble rolling out the dough, but then again, I almost always do. Sometimes I let the dough rest too long and the butter melts, other times I work to slowly or become frustrated by cracks. All said, this part of the recipe is inarguably the most difficult part.

Once I had the pie dough made and fitted into the pie plate, it was smoother sailing. After a wait in the fridge, I placed the plate into the oven at 425 degrees for a 21-minute interval. Then, as the alternate recipe instructs, I continued to bake the crust for another 7 minutes at 375 degrees. By the time the pre-baked crust was finished, the bottom had a golden hue and the edges were browning. Now it was time for the filling.

I had the ingredients needed already measured out, so all I needed to do was toss them into a sauce pot and turn on the heat. Before the pecan mix started to bubble, I dumped it into the pie crust, which was still warm. The pecan pie then went back into the oven for a final baking period: 14 minutes. Since the filling was so simple, the real judge of success would be the quality of the crust - the flavor, the density, the flakiness. I hoped for a crust bottom that held up well the viscous pecan filling.  I anticipated success, but only after dinner would the results be revealed.

The cool pie was easy to slice into; the pieces were uniform and the filling stiff enough to hold after a knife's cut. My crust did slim toward the center, but the finished product was no worse due to the "flaw." Best of all, it was flakey and had a mild buttery flavor. Actually, best of all, Dad enjoyed it.
(A note on pie crust recipes: I find most call for too little dough, or at least not enough to leave you with extra to trim off the edges. Basically, don't be stingy with ingredients, make a little extra dough and the process should be less stressful.)

(Maybe) the Best Pie Crust

Recipe found in Chris Kimball’s Dessert Bible (I’ve made little changes)
(9-inch single pie shell)

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
5 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into 3/4-inch pieces (little cubes)
5 tablespoons chilled vegetable shortening
3 to 4 tablespoons ice water

Instructions
Mix flour, salt and sugar in bowl of food processor fitted with steel blade.

Scatter butter pieces over flour. Add shortening in 1 tbsp. clumps and then pulse 8-12 times. Flour should be a pale yellow – or it should resemble a coarse corn meal, whatever works. Butter bits no larger than small peas, about 4 more 1-second pulses. Seriously, large butter pieces means NOT fun to roll out.

Turn mixture into medium bowl. Sprinkle 3 tablespoons ice water over mixture.

With blade of a rubber spatula, use folding motion to mix. Press down on dough with broad side of spatula until dough sticks together, adding up to 1 tablespoon more ice water if dough will not come together.

Shape dough into ball with your hands, then flatten into a 4-inch-wide disk. Dust lightly with flour and wrap in plastic. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes before rolling.
For 10-inch regular or 9-inch deep dish: add 1/4 cup flour and 2 tablespoons butter.

Pre-baking crust: 375 degrees for 21 minutes (pie beads and all). Remove beads and then bake for another 7, no longer or you will regret it!

For the Filling

1 ½ cups Pecan halves (toasted them first – 7 min. at 375)

3 large eggs

1 cup DARK corn syrup

½ cup packed brown sugar

½ tsp. vanilla extract

1 tbsp. bourbon or dark rum (this makes it yummy!)

½ cup heavy cream (this makes it bad for your arteries!)

¼ tsp. salt

2 tbsp. melted unsalted butter

Instructions

Whisk the eggs until they are well blended.

Put the eggs into a medium sauce pan (big enough to hold all FILLING ingredients).

Whisk everything else in until it appears well blended.

Heat the sauce pan until hot, but NOT bubbling. [I may have caused the butter to curdle a bit, which made for a slightly mealier filling as opposed to smooth and uniform]

Pour hot filling into your pecan pie crust and then bake the sucker for 12-14 minutes at 425 degrees. The filling will have puffed a nice amount when you take it out, but it will settle after a nice rest. Resist the temptation to cut in too soon; please give at least 25 minutes.

 

 

Apple Crostata (or an unofficial Sugar High)

This month's Sugar High Friday, an event in which I am not officially partaking, revolves around short pastry. Hosted by food porn watch's mastermind, life in flow, the event is titled Tantalizing Titillating Tempting Tarts, but leaves the door open for a "galette, or any other tart-formation that you all would care to create." It's a theme that allows for boundless creativity and surely will produce some mouthwatering results. (I just peaked at some entries; the Domestic Goddess has outdone herself again with a complex sweet breakfast tart - banana-krispie pie.)

So, why am I not partaking in this month's High? First, it's summer, and I've grown lazier. Second, father's day is Sunday and I am planning to make him a fresh pecan tart, which means I have to finish it Sunday so he can enjoy the out-of-the-oven warmth. (Ok, laziness is really the reason.)

Earlier in the week I was actually readying myself for a post. I rented Kimball's The Dessert Bible, whose absence of color photography nearly turned me away, Medrich's Bittersweet, and Fran Bigelow's Pure Chocolate. I was looking for a chocolate-centric tart. Just to brush up on my short pastry skills, I flipped through my mother's Barefoot Contessa: Parties! cookbook and fell across a simple freeform pie recipe - the Apple Crostata. A crostata is a casual Italian dessert which is formed by hand, obviating the need for a tart or pie pan. I wasn't sure if a crostata would qualify under this month's theme, but since the picture in Parties! reminded me more of a rustic tart or galette, I decided it would be fair game.

And wouldn't ya know! On the wonderful Leite's Culinaria, nearly the same recipe as Parties! author Ina Garten refered to was mentioned, but under the appelation Rustic Apple Tart. So I was covered for the Sugar High even if I never got around to making a true tart. (Laziness remember.)

For the crostata, or galette, or rustic tart, all you need is a short pastry crust recipe that calls for a cup of flour and two sticks of butter. The only trouble with this recipe is rolling out the finished product. The dough needs to be very cool, and definitely devoid of any surface moisture; if the butter is too warm or moist, you will end up with a new table fixture, not a tart crust.

The filling is easy enough. Quarter 3 large or 4 medium McIntosh apples and then cut the quarters into thirds. The apples get a turn with a teaspoon or two of orange zest and then are placed on the rolled out crust dough, leaving an inch-and-a-half uncovered (11-inch circumference). The topping consists of three tablespoons of butter, 1 cup of brown sugar, and a teaspoon of cinnamon (or a combination of spices). The ingredients are chopped roughly in a processor and then spread over the zest-mixed apples. See recipe for the tantalizing conclusion (provided by recipezaar)...

For the pastry crust:

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/8^th cup of sugar

¼ tsp of salt

1/4lb very cold unsalted butter, each tablespoon quartered

For the filling:

1 ½ lbs McIntosh Apples

¼ tsp orange zest

¼ cup flour

¼ cup sugar

¼ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. cinnamon

1/8 cup all-spice

4 tbs butter, diced

1. For Pastry: Place the flour, sugar and salt in a food processor fitted with a steel blade. Pulse a few times to combine.

2. Add the butter and pulse 10-12 times, or until the butter is the size of peas.

3. With the motor running, add the ice water all-at-once through the feed tube. Keep hitting the pulse button to combine, but stop the machine just before the dough becomes a solid mass.

4. Turn the dough onto a well floured board and form into a disc. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least one hour.

5. Meanwhile -- preheat over to 450 degrees and make filling.

6. Remove pastry from refrigerator and roll out into 11-inch circle.

7. For Filling: Peel, core and cut apples into 8ths. Cut each wedge into 3 chunks. Toss with orange zest.

8. Cover tart dough with the apples leaving a 1 1/2 inch border.

9. Make topping: Combine flour, sugar, salt, cinnamon and allspice in bowl of food      processor fitted with a steel blade. Add the butter and pulse until mixture is crumbly.

10. Sprinkle evenly over apples.

11. Gently fold the border over the apples to enclose the apples, pleating it to make a circle. This can get TRICKY…

12. Bake for 20-25 minutes until the crust is golden and the apples are tender.

13. Allow to cool for 5 minutes and serve - ice cream preferable...

Albert's Mousse

With only a few steps and a few key ingredients, it's no wonder that mousse appears on so many menus and is nearly ubiquitous in dessert cookbooks. But widespread appearance has lowered the mousse's mystique from special occassion dessert to an entree afterthought. As mousse loses its chic, the cooler Pot de crème is poised to  become the new flourless chocolate dessert of choice.

You will find no Pots in chocolate maven Alice Medrich's newest book, Bittersweet. Medrich knows her chocolate, so any mousse recipe she endorses is sure to be chocolate heaven. Out of two classic options, recipe variations not included, I chose to give her "Albert's Mousse" a try. Sure enough, the bittersweet flavor matched the taste of the chocolate block that birthed it, which is a sign of something done right. Some might find the pure chocolate taste of a 70% bittersweet bar may want to find a lesser percentage. Thankfully, Medrich provided a convenient "chocolate notes" section that tailors the recipe according to what percent chocolate you choose, e.g.:  "To use chocolate marked 64% to 66% instead of standard bittersweet, use 5 1/4 oz. chocolate. Increase the sugar to 1/4 cup."   

For the trial run, I chose to use the less expensive Ghirardelli bittersweet chocolate, a louche by no means, but not as resplendent a taste as a Callebaut or Sharffen Burger (an opinion backed by several tastings). Now that I know the flavor of the solid chocolate is wholly evident in the final product, I will definitely raise the quality of chocolate I use for the next go around.

I'm not even sure if spongy is a putative descriptor for mousse, but that's how mine turned out. A smoother consistency would have been nice, but the irregular mouthfeel and bold taste made Albert's mousse a winner. (If I would have whipped the eggs a little less, I'm sure I'd have gotten fewer pockets of air.) And because of its relative simplicity, I think I'll experiment with mousse more in the future - with heavy cream, without any dairy, with stronger and weaker coco liquor percentages.

A note on the recipe. Medrich uses a double-broiler method for melting chocolate. This involves setting a heatproof bowl, such as stainless steal, on top of a large skillet of simmering water. It's the first time I've used such a method, but I believe it's the best choice for melting LARGE amounts of chocolate (the microwave will always be my quick fix for an ounce or two). With the double-broiler method you can easily control the amount of heat concentrated on the bowl, and with the water in view, it's easy to keep it from reaching a boil (and scorching your expensive chocolate).

Albert's Mousse

Excerpted from Bittersweet. Copyright by Alice Medrich, 2003 . Reprinted with permission from Workman Publishing, New York.

Ingredients:

6 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped 1/4 cup water, coffee or milk     or 1/2 cup heavy cream        [I used 1% milk] 1-1/2 tablespoons brandy, rum, or liquor of choice (optional) 3 large whole eggs, at room temperature 3 tablespoons water 3 tablespoons sugar cocoa bean cream or whipped cream, (optional)

Steps:

Place the chocolate and the 1/4 cup water (or liquid of your choice) in a medium heatproof bowl in a wide skillet of barely simmering water. Stir frequently until the chocolate is nearly melted. Remove the bowl and stir until completed melted and smooth. Stir in the liquor, if using, and set aside. In a medium heatproof bowl, whisk the eggs with the 3 tablespoons water and the sugar until well blended. Set the bowl in a skillet of not-even-simmering water and, stirring constantly to prevent the eggs from scrambling, cook until they register 160F on an instant-read thermometer. (You will have to remove the bowl from the skillet to check the temperature unless you are agil enough to both stir and hold and read the thermometer at the same time!) Remove the bowl and beat with an electric mixer at high speed for 3 to 4 minutes, until they eggs have a texture like a softly whipped cream. Fold about one-quarter of the eggs into the chocolate. Scrape the chocolate mixture onto the remaining beaten eggs and fold just until evenly incorporated. Divide the mousse among the ramekins. Chill for at least one hour, or until set, before serving. If you are not serving the mousses within a few hours, cover them with plastic wrap. Serve topped with the whipped cream.

Sugar High Friday #8: Pucker Up with Citrus

The advent of this Sugar High Friday found me killing a few birds with one stone (if you will). Besides the satisfaction that comes with taking part in such a tasty community event, the citrus theme forced me to make a lemony treat that has been far too long neglected in my recipe list.

It also happens that my newest employer, Quaker Coffee, is currently looking to debut some new products. After tackling brownies -- one of the stand-outs was a brownie with a shortbread base -- the Quaker bakers' are moving on to lemon bars. (And thus providence smiles on the Minor Gourmand.)

For my luscious Lemon Bars' recipe, I turned to Ina Garten's Barefoot Contessa Parties. I usually avoid Ina's sweets because she tends to use butter way too liberally for my taste; a choice she does wear proudly. Oh, and there's also that whole fiasco that occured when I tried baking her recipe for half-sheet-size brownies. Granted, I'm the moron who put in baking soda for baking powder, but I still think Ina should have advised me to place tin foil under the pan to catch the drips (before they, ahem, had a chance to catch fire). Past ills aside, Ina's lemon bar recipe won me over thanks to her book's beguiling description. Anyway, they looked harmless enough.

To start the process I assembled my make-shift mis en place. I never actually get through measuring and lining up all the ingredients before I start the combining process; I find some on the fly measuring is better because it keeps you on the ready, even if the prospect of making a mistake is slightly increased. I do endorse reading through the recipe thoroughly at least once before doing anything. Make sure to account for refrigeration and cooling times, baking times, and other periods in which time is allowed to linger. Most importantly, always be sure you'll be around when that final timer rings. Baking under pressure always leads to avoidable mishaps and unnecessary stressing. At least it does in my kitchen.

The quick pastry base consists of only butter, sugar, flour and salt. The first two need to be whipped together with an electric mixer until the consistency is much more fluffy than stiff (this step proves it is important to use "room temperature" butter). The flour and salt are combined and added slowly, bringing the ingredient quartet together into a ball. The ball should be pressed into the 9 x 13 x 2 inch baking pan with well floured hands. This step can be messy unless you use enough flour or baker's spray on your paws to keep the buttery ball of dough from sticking to all the wrong places. The baking pan is then placed in the fridge to chill. Finally, the lemon bar's base is baked for 15-20, or until the crust shows a nice golden brown. My first batch went for 17 minutes.

When the crust is pulled out of the oven, it's time to throw together the lemon topping. If you have some semblance of a mis en place, this step is a breeze. Whisk all the remaining ingredients together in a large bowl, making sure the eggs are well combined with the flour, lemon juice, etc. Then the top is poured onto the crust, which should have little warmth left from its first bake. The whole pan is then placed back in the oven for another 30-35 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenheit. I've been bumping my oven up 5-10 degrees because I suspect it is doing a poor job of circulating the hot air. The lemon bars probably spent about 37 minutes in the oven in total. A straight 35 minutes would probably have been perfect.

The results: My first taste, after a interminably short period of refrigeration, was not up to my expectations. I felt the crust was too dense. After a nice rest in our kitchen's warmer air, the lemon bars were elevated from decent to very good. The edges were still a bit dense, but that's because my palms forced more quick pastry dough into the corners than the center. Cutting the slightest bit off the edges rendered each piece delicious. The lemon shined through the 3 cups of sugar Ina called, a feet I was afraid wouldn't occur (actually, toning the sugar down a 1/2 cup would be a smart move). The crust was soft but not crumbly, as the base of a good lemon bar should be. This recipe is one to keep, although I am not done with testing alternatives. I have a feeling that the lemon filling can be improved and made even more luscious and lemon-flavored (all naturally of course).

I hope everyone's citrus sugar HIGH was equally as satisfying. That sweet-tart combination citrus desserts have is one of my favorites, and I'm glad I finally whipped something up that falls into the category. Next time, I'll try something a bit more adventurous; maybe something with meringue. Mmmm...

For convenience's sake, I'll post the recipe verbatim:

Bars and Brownies; Apricot and Chocolate (respectively)

Often I shun recipes with few ingredients and fewer directions; there's no challenge in simplicity I like to say. I also like to believe I don't bake solely for the end product, no matter how delicious it may be; I suppose creating something that involves more than just 1-2-3 is satisfying not only because it pleases the taste buds, but also because it leaves you with a sense of accomplishment. Make something that your friends or neighbors wouldn't dare try? That feels good, even if the competition never get a whiff. Come to think of it, thank God I don't live next to a pastry chef, that would be brutal (unless he/she shared).

But then again, sometimes you just gotta let loose. For me, that means cookies and "bars." And looking at my recipe list, I let loose a lot. Maybe I'm not the ideal baking hobbyist (see above), but there's something to be said for elevating a hackneyed recipe to create a wonderful snack or a pleasant dessert. That's why today I want to share two recipes with few key ingredients, but together with some simple steps produce something greater than the sum of its parts.

The first recipe is for Apricot Bars. I always seem to find a bag of old dried apricots buried deep in the cabinets, waiting to be chopped into a salad or mixed into a bag of granola (but never consumed alone, yuck! or at least my generic brand is). When I happened upon an old neighbor's shortbread crust apricot bars, those moistureless apricots found themselves in a newfound leading role.

The resultant bar is a wonderful tea-time snack, or, if you're not into that kinda thing, a wonderful anytime snack. The dried apricots take on so much more flavor when cooked in a pot and baked with some sugar. The recipe can be found online at Epicurious.com (sans my helpful hints!).

I. Ingredients

Shortbread Layer

1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 cup sugar
Pinch of salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

Apricot layer

2/3 cup (packed) dried apricot halves (about 4 ounces), coarsely chopped

1/3 cup all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 cup (packed) brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup chopped toasted walnuts

Powdered sugar (for dusting the tops)

II. Process

For shortbread layer:
Preheat oven to 350°F [My darker nonstick pan tends to burn the edges, so I lowered the temp 15º]. Grease up an 8x8x2-inch glass baking dish with nonstick spray or butter. Blend flour, sugar, and salt in processor. Add butter; using on/off turns, process until coarse meal forms [If the butter pieces are too tiny, it won’t form well in the pan]. Press crumbs firmly into bottom of dish. Bake until center is golden, about 25 minutes. Maintain oven temperature.

Meanwhile, prepare apricot layer:
Place apricots in small saucepan; add enough water to cover. Boil until soft, about 4 minutes; drain and set aside [They’ll get pretty weepy, but that’s fine – not to mention much easier to cut].

Beat eggs in large bowl with electric mixer. Add the brown sugar and vanilla; beat until thick. Stir in flour, salt, and baking soda (combine well). Finally, add the nuts and apricots. Spread over shortbread.

Bake cookie until puffed, dark brown, and toothpick inserted into topping comes out with small moist crumbs attached, about 35 minutes.

Cool in dish -- I put them in the refrigerator because it allows for a better cut.

Cut cookie into 6 strips, then crosswise into thirds. Transfer to waxed paper. Sift powdered sugar over bars. And enjoy...

Chocolate Brownies. I must say, before making these I forgot how great homemade brownies could be. It's not a hard recipe to master and subsequently tweak to exciting conclusions; That's why you might have seen brownies reappear on menus – decadent, but not far from that just-like-home feel. Despite the above, it still seems that most brownies I’ve had in bakeries just suck: too gooey, too cakey, or just not enough "real" chocolate flavor. Baking brownies at home is too simple and too enjoyable a task to waste your dime on those terrible grocery store or Betty Crocker mix varieties. Inspired by Alice Medrich’s chocolate panegyrics in her latest book, Bittersweet. The book has great recipes and love-riddled prose, but like with many cookbook authors, sometimes I wished she’d stop reminiscing and stick to the recipes.

Despite following Medrich’s directions on how to make the brownies “cakier,” they were pretty dense and chewy. Not that it bothered me, they were still delectable. The brownies had a nice bite and then proceeded to melt in my mouth. Using fine unsweetened chocolate, not just Baker’s, actually does give brownies a more piquant and lasting finish. So spend the dime! The addition of pecans is recommended, even for brownie purists out there; the pecan oils seep a tad into the brownies and the resulting mix of nutty and chocolatey is very nice. All hyperbole aside, these brownies were definitely in the classic fudgy category, and despite being great, they do not reach the level of chocolate transcendence.

Classic unsweetened chocolate brownies

(from Alice Medrich’s Bittersweet)

I. Ingredients

4 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter
1 1/4 cups sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 “cold” large eggs
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2/3 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)

II. Process

Place the rack on the lower third on the oven and then preheat to 400º (or 350º for the “cakier” version). Line an 8-inch square baking pan with foil or baking parchment, leaving some overhang on the two opposite sides.

First, we muss melt da chocolat (with French phonetics). Heat the chocolate and butter in a medium heatproof bowl set over a wide skillet (Medrich’s preferred melting method), stirring frequently until melted and smooth and hot enough that you want to remove your finger quickly after dipping it in to test [You can also microwave the chocolate and butter in a glass bowl on medium for 2 ½  minutes, and then stir till completely melted. It ain’t professional, but it works!] Remove from heat and stir in the sugar, salt and vanilla with a spoon or silicon spatula. Add the cold eggs, 1 at a time, stirring well to incorporate each. Stir in the flour and beat with a wooden spoon or spatula until the batter is smooth and glossy and beginning to “come away from the sides of the pan, 1 to 2 minutes.”

Stir in the nuts if, like me, you decide to use them.

Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan and then bake it in the oven for about 20-22 minutes, or until the brownies just begin to pull away from the sides of the pan. UNLESS you want “cakier” brownies (or slightly lighter, as mine turned out to be), then you must leave them for 30-35 minutes.

This is a tough call, but if the tops look a tad dry and the brownies don’t compress much with the touch of your finger, they are probably done. The brownies should not have a very crisp top or edge. Toothpick test should yield a pick moistened with chocolate. Once removed, immediately place brownies in refrigerator, or, as Medrich suggests, place in a “water bath” – a larger pan filled 3/4-inch deep with ice water. Chill completely, which may take up to an hour. Lift brownies out by handles and then cut into squares. Store in an airtight container for 2 to 3 days (blah blah blah, they won’t last).

Sugar High Friday #7: Black and Sticky

Damn. Molasses. I know that the torpid sugar-liquid is key to many a gingerbread and gingersnap, but is it ever truly the star? Yeah, I suppose I could make molasses cookies, but that just seems to easy a choice -- although very enticing, as they are one of my absolute favorite cookies. Ruling out cookies makes finding a recipe for this this Sugar High Friday (#7) a sticky situation.

After ripping through a few cookbooks and surfing a few of my favorite recipe sites, I ended up with some very yummy sounding cookies, but not much else. Next, I went with my pinch-hitter for fast and fancy: Epicurious. Searching for "molasses," I happened upon the patriotically titled "Yankee Oatmeal-Molasses Bread." Sounded pretty damn good to me. The recipe looked simple enough too, no arcane ingredients or laborious tasks; all it involved was some patience.

I haven't had much yeast experience, practically none except for my sticky buns, but I felt the process was too simple to botch up. The process itself employed the use of an electric stand mixer, its bowl, the dough hook, a 9x5 inch loaf pan, and not much else. As for ingredients, I knew the only trouble maker would be the molasses itself. The sticky bugger can easily overpower its ingredient cohorts, making the bread a treacly mess. To fix the problem, I used Brer Rabbit's "Mild Molasses." In turn, the finished product had a rich flavor, but nowhere near the molasses flavor gingerbread or molasses cookies posess.

The sole problem that one may encounter with this Yankee Oatmeal-Molasses Bread is the baking time. My heavy-guage Chicago Metallic Professional-series Loaf Pan tends to heat in a way that causes the bread's top to look finished, while leaving the innards underdone. Don't get me wrong, I love the pan, but you need to bake with it a few times to get the feel for an appropriate baking time. For this recipe, I would recommend using the exact baking time, especially the first bake - 10 (or even 11) minutes. This causes the bread to poof and stabilizes it for the remaining baking periods, a verrry important stage. After the final bake, I would recommend picking the loaf up out of its container: if it's too heavy, or the bottom looks moist, stick the sucker back in for another 5-10 minutes. Better your loaf be browned and crusty than underdone and inedible.

The taste, as I hinted, is rich but not overwhelmingly sweet. The butter and molasses glaze on top is a must for a full flavor, but I wouldn't put the amount called for - a comment warned that the top can get mighty sticky, and after a few days, soggy. I would characterize this Yankee bread as a wonderful morning loaf, perfect with a dob of light butter or creme fraiche to enrich the flavor. I can't imagine anyone turning down a slice of this in the morning (it's very aromatic when first baked).

I'll add the recipe as found at Epicurious (with a few notes):

Ingredients:
1/2 cup packed old-fashioned oats
3/4 cup boiling water

1 cup warm water (105°F to 115°F)
1 envelope dry yeast [I use Hobb's Mill]
6 tablespoons lightly unsulfured molasses [Brer Rabbit "Mild"]
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter, room temperature
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
4 1/2 cups (about) unbleached all purpose flour [You can substitute whole wheat or wheat germ for a nice whole grain flavor - 1/2 cup A-P = 1/4 cup whole wheat or wheat germ]

1 tablespoon melted butter mixed with 1 teaspoon light unsulfured molasses (glaze)
1 tablespoon old-fashioned oats

Place 1/2 cup oats in large bowl of electric mixer fitted with dough hook; pour 3/4 cup boiling water over. Let stand 30 minutes (water will be absorbed and oatmeal will be very soft).

Pour 1 cup warm water into 2-cup glass measuring cup. Sprinkle yeast over; stir to blend. Let stand until yeast dissolves, about 10 minutes. Mix molasses, 2 tablespoons butter and salt into oat mixture in bowl. Mix in yeast mixture. Add enough flour, 1 cup at a time, to form medium-soft dough, mixing at medium speed until well blended, about 3 minutes. Turn out dough onto floured surface. Knead until smooth and elastic, adding more flour if dough is too sticky, about 5 minutes. Form dough into ball. Butter large bowl; add dough, turning to coat. Cover bowl with plastic wrap, then towel. Let dough rise in warm draft-free area until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 400°F. Butter 9x5-inch loaf pan. Punch down dough; turn out into floured surface and knead 3 minutes. Form into 8-inch-long loaf. Transfer to prepared pan. Cover with plastic, then towel; let rise in warm draft-free area until dough has risen about 1/2 inch above rim of pan, about 45 minutes.

Bake bread 10 minutes (or 11); reduce temperature to 350°F. Bake 25 minutes longer. Brush top of bread with glaze; sprinkle 1 tablespoon oats over. Bake until bread is golden and sounds hollow when tapped on bottom, about 10 minutes longer (see my notes about baking time). Transfer to rack; cool in pan 10 minutes. Turn out brad onto rack; cool completely. (Can be made 2 weeks ahead. Wrap tightly in foil and freeze. If desired, reheat wrapped bread in 350°F oven about 15 minutes. Enjoy!

Hit me wit' a Crust

Those who have mastered the craft of making tart and pie crusts, sometimes labeled as short pastries, certainly possess an enviable culinary skill. But with saintly patience and practice (and a good recipe), the rest of us can join their ranks. Each finished crust leaves you with some newfound insight into the finicky craft, whether it be how thick a rolled crust needs to be to adequately hold its contents, or how long to "par-bake" (pre-baking the crust without its filling) without over-browning the crust. Pies and tarts filled with fruit need to be thicker than those filled with a light pastry cream or a whipped chocolate mousse; savory quiches are best made with some extra salt and without added sugar. The amount of tweaking allowed for in the craft is almost maddening - the devil is in the details I tell ya! Ultimately, you need to find a crust that you feel comfortable making time and time again. And stick with it, otherwise you will find yourself with an innumerable list of recipes.

The punctilious patissiers out there will always be tweaking their recipes and weighing their butter down to the second decimal, and I confess I oft fall prey to such overzealous exactitude, but the line must be drawn somewhere. What angers me most is that some recipes, such as the one in The Pie and Pastry Bible, are so controlling in so many areas (e.g. keeping the flour and salt in the fridge before using), yet still manage to overlook areas that could use more specification (e.g. rolling it out). A good recipe should find a middle ground; a point where making a crust is not laborous, but something worthwhile and satisfying - i.e, one that turns out a good crust.

To those of you under the impression that this post post is leading into the unveiling of the consummate crust recipe, I'm sorry, it's not gonna happen. I have not procured or created a foolproof crust recipe, but I will tell you my recent favorites are from The Secrets of Baking and In the Sweet Kitchen (whose recipes I've oft criticized). And although I've just criticized it above, some tips and tricks in the Bible are worth noting. The book's ingredients were in perfect ratio, and the addition of vinegar into the crust dough is not one to be overlooked. The teaspoon-and-a-half of vinegar makes the dough noticeably easier to roll-out because it relaxes the glutens (thus keeping them from developing strong bonds).

For my lastest dough experiment, I decided to make a pie (my first, I believe). The Double-Crust Deep Red Raspberry Pie in In the Sweet Kitchen always caught my eye, so I readied my food processor and began. As great irony always comes from the unexpected, so to did my problem. The dough was resting in the fridge, waiting to be rolled out and placed in the glass pyrex dish, when I decided to start on the filling. Grabbing the first of four (expensive) raspberry cases, I noticed some sort of fur poking through the openings. I was aghast to find that the majority of my raspberries were coated with a dark grey fur; ditto with the other packs. "You needed to wash them and put them in the fridge," my mom informed me post facto. Screwed, I thought. With little money, and even less patience, I drove to the local Acme, a place I dread, to look for replacements. Expectedly, their raspberries were all but clawed-and-toothed. There was no way I was going to pay $4 for the unsightly offerings, so I went with the marginally better blackberries.

The recipe had now become Deep Reddish Berry Pie. I combined the blackberries with some salvaged raspberries, then some sugar and raspberry syrup. Amidst all this mess I had managed to roll out the two portions of dough into the bottom and top crust. The bottom crust was then gently laid in the dish, with the top directly over it, and placed in the fridge to rest for a good forty minutes.

So I took out the crust, picked up the top with a rolling pin, and then poured in the filling. The top was shifted into place and pressed into the bottom's overhang. Finally, the whole thing went into the heated oven. This better work. After an anxiety filled 40 minutes, I removed the bubbling pie and placed it in the coolest spot of the kitchen. I peered over my creation, satisfied, but a little upset with the cracks that formed where the top and bottom crust dough met.

Hungry eaters decided not to allow the appropriate requisite cooling period, opting for a gooey  filling instead of a the stiffer one pictured in the book. I certainly wasn't too happy when the rasp-blackberry juices came spilling out the sides, but really it didn't matter. The crust was the real crux. And what a crust it was! Light and flakey, with a great combination of sweet and buttery. The bottom could have been rolled a bit thicker to accomodate for the heavy filling, but it didn't break, and that's a step in the right direction.

   Ingredients

I. Pie Crust:

All ingredients can be kept in fridge and grabbed just before using

2 cups all purpose flour

¼ tsp salt

½ cup vegetable shortening cut into small pieces (or lard)

5 tbsp COLD unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

¼ cup ice water

1 large egg, lightly beaten

II. Filling:

7 cups of berries [yea, that’s a lot, but the more the merrier with fruit fillings]

2/3 cup granulated sugar

4 tbsp cornstarch

1 tsp lemon zest, finely grated

1 tsp lemon juice

3 tbsp of raspberry liquor (or syrup – Monin – like I used)

III. The wash (or glaze) – In my experience, this can lead to excess browning...

1 large egg, lightly beaten

2 tsp. coarse white or granulated sugar [really, anything that will give the crust a nice sheen]

   Process

Flaky Pie Pastry:

1)  Combine 2 cups all-purpose flour and salt in a large bowl. Using a pastry cutter, 2 knives, or a food processor, cut (or pulse) until shortening and butter are about the size of fat peas (no pieces should be larger, unless you want unsightly yellow streaks in your crust. In a small bowl or glass, combine cold water and 1 egg (already beaten, hopefully). Sprinkle a tablespoon or so of the egg mixture over part of the flour mixture; gently incorporate moisture with hands or pulse 4-5 times. Repeat, using another tablespoon egg mixture at a time, until all of the flour mixture is moistened. Form dough into a ball.

2)  Divide dough into 2 portions, 1 portion slightly larger than the other. Form each portion gently into a flat disk. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or up to 3 days. (Or, freeze up to 3 months. Thaw dough overnight in refrigerator; remove about 30 minutes before rolling it.)

Putting it all together:

      1)  Set oven to 400 degrees

2)      Roll out dough into a 12 inch circle, 1/8^th inch thick. (This is where I have the most trouble, the thickness, that is. The thickness cannot be compromised, or else your bottom crust will break or become too soggy.) Gently, pick up the dough with a pin and lay into the dish, making sure it’s fitting into the sides nicely. Place in fridge for a good 45 minutes (or more).

3)      The second piece (the top) can be removed about 15-20 minutes before baking. You don’t want it to be too tender when it goes into the oven.

4)      Place everything, but the berries, into a large bowl. Mix it up.

5)      Gently, with a rubber spatula or equivalent, “fold” in the berries so they get covered with the good stuff, but not crushed.

6)      Place the filling in the bottom dough.

7)      The top should be rolled out into a 10 inch circle, 1/8^th inch thickness. However you wish – tuck, crimp, squeeze – lay and connect the top dough to the bottom.

8)      Place it in the fridge for a chill-out. 15 minutes is fine.

9)      Glaze if you feel so inclined. Certainly a little sugar on top wouldn’t hurt. Cut 4 slits in the top of the dough.

      10)  Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour. Your best indicator is the bubbling of the berry filling. When it starts to come through the slits, take it out and let it rest. Restrain yourself! Let it cool for at least a half hour so the filling has time to set a bit.