Dessert First

Return from Hong Kong: Family, Food, and a Really Good Tart

Hello dear readers, I'm back from Hong Kong! I apologize that this won't be as comprehensive a travelogue as some of my other reports: a host of family obligations kept me from playing tourist as much as I wanted to. Here are a couple of shots I managed to capture:

Cool blue entrance into Hong Kong while on the airport express

View from my parents' apartment- yup, that is the full moon up there!

They don't do anything by halves in HK - new Coach store going up

Bet you'll never see these in the US - even Mrs. Field's is making mooncakes for the Mid-Autumn Festival!

Very exciting - I saw my book in a local bookstore! Field Guide to Cookies is international!

Honestly, though, I have to admit I don't have a ton of photos of sweets, because Hong Kong retail in general tends to frown on picture-taking. I think there is a fear of designs and ideas being stolen and copied, so even if you just want to document the cool-looking bakery display, you may be told by an employee that no photos are allowed. "Touristy" photographing of landmarks, scenery, etc, is acceptable, but I guess trying to get a close-up shot of a cake in the window means you're an industrial spy. I got to visit a handful of dessert places during my trip, but unfortunately not a lot of pictures as proof. My surreptitious-snapping skills weren't set on high this time:)

One place that didn't seem to have any qualms about my snapping away, and coincidentally one of my favorite finds, was Zoë, a chic, light-filled little cafe filled with perfectly presented pastries. The offerings are unbashedly European in flavor and styling: precisely layered chocolate mousse cakes, crisp, fruit-topped tartlets, velvety white cheesecakes. I went with a sweet friend I'd met through this blog, a HK resident and fellow dessert fanatic. When I expressed concern that she hadn't had time to eat lunch before meeting at Zoë, she reassured me, "I can eat dessert for lunch anyday." That's my kind of girl!

Between the two of us, we devoured four pastries with lychee tea - a very model of Hong Kong tea-time.

Clockwise from top left: Zoë's signature Zoë cake, a cute little square of hazelnut mousse on a crunchy cookie base; a slice of banana cream "pie", the 1459, Zoë's version of millefeuille, with satisfyingly flaky puff pastry layers sandwiching pasty cream, and cherry-chocolate mousse cake, which surprised me the most since most Hong Kongers I've met don't seem to be very fond of alcohol-soaked cherries.

Zoë is considered spendy by Hong Kong standards; each one of those lovelies cost about $4.50, which doesn't seem too bad to me, but I suppose I wouldn't be buying one every day (this would be out of concern for my waistline too!) They are also on the petite side - my mom complained that my dad would scarf one of these down in mere seconds (hmm, does he even do that with my pastries?:) ) The thing is, in Hong Kong, there is just so much to choose from - I've mentioned to many people that Hong Kongers are really spoiled for choice. I mean, look at this display from a Hong Kong Beard Papa store (a cream puff chain):

There's about twelve different choices in there - in all the SF Beard Papa stores I've been to, there's typically 3 varieties!! And you can't really make out the labels, but they've got varieties like strawberry cream, and mint chocolate, and chestnut, and even summer peach; "seasonal specials" are very big in Hong Kong, to draw customers back into stores. I love it when my mom comes to visit me in the US and she says things like, "Why do the bakeries have the same stuff as the last time I came? Don't they come up with anything new?" Well yes, but certainly not at the pace that Hong Kong does.

Bakeries are also so ubiquitous in Hong Kong and generally the quality ranges from acceptable to quite good. Maxim's and St-Honoré, two of the biggest bakery chains in Hong Kong, seem to have outposts at just about every subway stop and street, kind of like Starbucks. But imagine if Starbucks carried freshly baked breads and delicate, fancy-patisserie-like cakes, and they were only a couple dollars each? Makes it really easy to grab dessert on the way home from work - so posher places like Zoë do have to work a little harder to justify their higher prices.

In my opinion, Zoë is worth the price, and the visit. The quality was uniformly excellent, and the flavors understated but pure. Another interesting cultural note is that Hong Kong natives definitely prefer lighter desserts: I can't count how many times I was told, "American desserts are so heavy and so sweet! Can't you reduce the sugar?" From all the lovely baking blogs I know and visit, I can say that desserts definitely come in all forms and levels in the good old US (hurray!). But I guess I can see how stereotypes of our sweet preferences can be formed, especially if you look at mass advertising: foot-high wedges of chocolate cake covered in caramel goo, ice cream sundaes drowning in nuts and fudge, pies garnished with a tub's worth of whipped cream, cookies the size of a small child's head. I'd like to advise the good residents of Hong Kong to take a look at food blogs out there to see desserts the rest of us are really eating!

It is true, though, that Zoë's desserts are very light, although by no means lacking in flavor. The Zoe hazelnut mousse was positively cloudlike, very, very delicate, and very refreshing: no heaviness or gumminess at all, and very nice against a crisp chocolate base. Similarly for the cherry-chocolate cake, which looked like a version of black forest cake, but a pared-down, minimalist version - a perfectly edited bite. My favorite was the banana cream pie, which was a revelation. I have to admit I'm not a big banana fan (apologies to Tartelette, I realize she's made a similar confession not long ago!) and I always shied away from banana cream pie, because, well, it had bananas, and because it just seemed like a big pile of cream and goo.

Another amusing sidenote: my mom and I bought this cake at another bakery that was supposed to be this wonderfully light and ethereal sponge cake. Well, the sponge cake wasn't bad, but it was literally covered all around with about 3 inches of whipped cream - rather unusual excess in Hong Kong. I found my mom in our kitchen industriously scraping off all the cream from the cake before she would eat it:)

So I was curious to see how Hong Kong had adapted this very American dessert. It's actually more of a tart than a pie: you can see the neat edge of the tart shell in the photo, which definitely gives it a sophisticated French flair. Then, a layer of chocolate ganache on the bottom, followed by a very thin layer of bananas - I couldn't even tell on first bite if there were any banana slices, but there were. I was trying to figure why I could taste so much banana flavor, and I realized that the topping was also flavored with banana - quite clever! Instead of the typical pastry cream filling followed by whipped cream topping, I think they turned it into one banana-infused cream layer, which is much lighter and more to local tastes.

I certainly liked it; I preferred the way the bananas were integrated into the cream so I could taste it without having to deal with the thick texture of the fruit. I loved how it captured the essence of the dessert in a sleek and streamlined form.

So, Zoë, I promise I'll buy more banana cream tarts from you next time I visit, but while I'm stuck back here in the US, I'm just going to have to try and make my own version. I'm not sure it's an exact duplicate, but it has a wonderfully crumbly pate sablee crust spread with a dark chocolate ganache. On top, a sprinkling of banana slices, and then a wonderfully fragrant pastry cream laced with bananas, and lightened with whipped cream to delicate softness. I can also add it was such joy experimenting in a new big kitchen: the last weekend spent puttering about with tart crusts and pastry cream in my new place was a wonderful memory-making - and hopefully there'll be more to come.

freshly baked tart shells filled with ganache  - I know, I hardly ever do in-progress shots, but I had the luxury of all day to put these guys together, so why not!

Placing a layer of banana slices in the shells - you can place more depending on your banana preferences.

finale - a bite of bliss

Two last things before I go - I was asked to compile a list of my favorite dessert blogs for Blogs.com, and here it is - take a look and see what my choices are!

Also, I'm going to be at BlogHer Food 2009 this Saturday - I"m SO excited I got a chance to go. If you're going to be there, do let me know - I'd love to meet you!

Banana Cream Tarts

makes (6) 5" tarts

Banana Pastry Cream

1 cup milk

5 tablespoons sugar

3 large egg yolks

2 tablespoons cornstarch

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 small banana, ripe (you can use from 1/2 to all of the banana, depending on size and how much banana flavor you want)

1 tablespoon lemon juice

 

Pate Sablee (adapted from Dorie Greenspan)

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour

1/2 cup confectioner's sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

9 tablespoons (4 1/2 ounces) very cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes

1 large egg yolk

 

Chocolate Ganache

4 ounces dark (62%-70%) chocolate, roughly chopped

1/2 cup heavy cream

 

2 bananas, ripe

1/2 cup heavy whipping cream

 

For the banana pastry cream: Combine 3/4 cup milk and 3 tablespoons of sugar in a saucepan. Heat just until the milk starts to bubble at the edges.

Meanwhille, whisk the remaining sugar and the egg yolks together in a medium bowl. Whisk the cornstarch and remaining milk together in another bowl and add to the egg yolk mixture.

When the milk has started to bubble, pour it in a steady stream into the egg yolk mixture, whisking constantly to prevent the eggs from scrambling.

Pour the mixture back into the saucepan and return to the stove, cooking over medium heat and whisking constantly, until it thickens and comes to a boil. Stir in vanilla and remove from heat.

Let pastry cream cool while you cut up the banana. Puree with the lemon juice in a food processor until smooth.

Fold the banana puree into the pastry cream. You can now press a piece of plastic wrap to the surface of the cream and place in the refrigerator to chill.

For the tart shells: Combine flour, confectioner's sugar, and salt in bowl of a food processor and combine.

Add in cold butter and process until pea-sized lumps of dough form - do not overprocess into a ball of dough. It should be loose and crumbly.

Add in egg yolk and process until dough starts to come together. Turn the dough out of the bowl onto a work surface and lightly press together into a ball - if it's too loose, you can process a little more, but don't do too much - you want to work this dough as little as possible to have a light and crumbly texture.

Butter one 9-inch tart pan or six 5-inch tart pans - ones with removable bottoms work best. Carefully press the dough into the pans, working it over the bottom and up the sides. Again, try not to overwork the dough - press gently and work as quickly as possible.

Chill shells in freezer for about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Usually recipes for these tart doughs involve lining the shells with pie weights. If you like doing this or have fears of burning your shells, go ahead. However, I've never had issues with just baking the shells as is - I check them halfway through and if the shells are puffing up too much I just press them down with a dough tamper or wooden spoon.

Bake shells for 15 minutes, then rotate and bake another 10-18 minutes until they are golden brown and fully baked.

Let cool on wire rack before filling.

For the ganache: Place chocolate in a medium bowl.

Heat cream in saucepan on stove over medium heat until the edges start to bubble.

Pour cream over chocolate and let stand for a minute. Stir with a wooden spoon to combine the two into a smooth mixture.

Spread a layer of ganache on the bottom of each tart shell and let cool and set. It doesn't have to set all the way, but it should be slightly firm to avoid mixing with the pastry cream.

Cut the bananas into thin slices, about 1/4" thick, and spread in a layer over the ganache.

Remove the pastry cream from the refrigerator and beat or stir with a spoon to loosen it up.

Whip the cream in a stand mixer until soft peaks form.

Fold the whipped cream gently into the pastry cream until fully incorporated.

Spread the banana pastry cream into the shells and smooth the surfaces with an offset spatula.

Chill in the refrigerator for about 20 minutes to set before serving. You can decorate the top with chocolate curls if you like.

 

Apple, Pecan, and Cinnamon Crumble Bars

Thanks to all my readers for your well-wishes - it's been a hectic, topsy-turvy couple of weeks but we are starting to get settled into our new home and we love it! It's no surprise, is it, that the first area to get organized was the kitchen? 

This is going to be a mini-digest of a post, since there's so much I'd love to catch you up on but just couldn't find the time amid the whirlwind of moving. Here is one of many highlights of the last two weeks:

Yes, Field Guide to Candy: How To Identify and Make Virtually Every Candy Imaginable is officially out!! It's available on Amazon , Chronicle Books, and Quirk Books, my publisher. I haven't seen it on bookshelves in brick-and-mortar retailers but I am sure they will show up very soon! I hope to provide a proper introduction to the book when I get back from Hong Kong. Hong Kong? Er, yes, I might have forgotten to mention that. Guess who will be lugging about 15 copies of the book overseas for her family?

So, back to the new kitchen and my desire to break it in before I left for vacation. What would be the inaugural dessert? Well, a couple of weeks before we moved out, we went up to Sebastopol for the Gravenstein Apple Festival and a heaping slice of summer and Americana - a last little road trip before the moving madness.

It was full, flush summer up in wine country, unlike fog-clad San Francisco. Children in shorts and sandals ran through a hay maze and petted baby goats, while their parents pored over the vintage farm machinery on display and listened to mellow, loose-limbed country music from the stage. And all around, bushels of red and green striped apples. 

Gravenstein apples are a baker’s dream, and there were apple pies in abundance at the festival, along with apple tarts, turnovers, and cobblers – a veritable golden orchard of apple-y delights waiting to be eaten.  We also had some marvelously thick, rich cider, the color of old pennies and icy cold for a hot summer afternoon.

The first bite into a ripe Gravenstein is pure sensory pleasure: the sharp crunch as teeth bite through pleasantly firm flesh; the sweet-tart fragrance of the apple’s juices rushing into your nose, and finally, the crisp, assertive tang of the fruit tickling your tongue. How pallid and pedestrian, by comparison, the experience of eating those mealy, one-dimensional, inoffensively but insipidly sweet apples found en masse at some groceries. Eating a Gravenstein is a stirring reminder of what real food tastes like, and why it’s better, even essential, to have variety and heterogeneity in the crops we grow, and not just one over-bioengineered, mass produced variety of tomato or corn or peach at the store.

In fact, the distinctiveness of the Gravenstein apple has been recognized by Slow Food Nation: It has included Gravenstein apples in its Ark of Taste, a list of unique foods that are in danger of extinction and merit preservation. Unfortunately, Gravensteins only grow for a short period of time (they are mostly harvested in July and August), and their relative delicacy compared to other apple species has led to a steady decline in the number of orchards in Sonoma County growing them. Today there are only about six commercial growers of these apples left in Sonoma. Although Gravensteins can be found in a few other places around the US and the rest of the world, they are an especially cherished tradition in Sonoma, and there was a definite sense of pride among the locals at the festival, a joy in celebrating this piece of their heritage. 

I lugged home two big bags of gorgeously candy-striped apples home and put them in our brand spanking new refrigerator – refrigeration recommended for keeping the apples longer. While pondering what to make, of course I had to eat one to get an idea of the flavor – and one turned into another, until I had to stop! These are wonderful apples for eating – they can be very tart when they’re green and not fully ripe, but find the perfect one and it’s a wonderful, full-bodied, full-flavored beauty. The texture is so wonderfully crisp, as well, although I recommend if you want to eat them, you should do so as soon as possible. They will get softer the longer they sit; still great for baking, but perhaps not as much for eating. 

While a pie would be the classic option (and I saw many a mouthwatering pie at the festival), the kitchen was still too much of a mess and equipment still packed away, for me to attempt the Zen exercise of the perfect pie crust. I opted instead for a shortcut version: apple crumble bars from my Field Guide to Cookies book. The apples are cooked in butter and sugar with a sprinkling of cinnamon until they’re translucent and just-soft, then spread over a brown sugar crust. A sprinkle of pecan-laced streusel, strewn over the top, provides a crunchy golden crown to the bars. The assertive Gravenstein apples really stand out in these bars – you can take out some of the sugar if you want to preserve their tartness, but I found this just the right balance. They’re obviously best fresh out the oven, when the apples are still gooey and the crust nicely crisp. You can reheat the bars in the oven for a day or so afterwards, but it’s best to eat them as soon as possible before they get soggy – not the most onerous of tasks!

I feel like I'm just starting to get used to the new place, and already I'm off! I'm going to be in Hong Kong for the next week and a half, and when I return I hope to be freshly inspired to make the best use of my new kitchen!

You can stay updated on travels via my Twitter feed. I'm looking forward to spending some time with my family, eating some really good dim sum, and of course checking out as many bakeries and dessert places as possible! It's also going to be super hot weather-wise there, so I'll be doing my best to stay cool!

Have a great Labor Day weekend, and I'll look forward to sharing my adventures when I get back in a week and a half!

Apple Crumble Bars

Filling

3 large tart apples (about 1 3/4 lbs total)

3 tablespoons softened unsalted butter

3/4 cup sugar

2 tablespoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons all purpose flour

3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Crust

2 cups all purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

6 tablespoons softened unsalted butter

3/4 cup light brown sugar

1 egg, room temperature

Streusel

1/2 cup sugar

2/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons all purpose flour

1/8 teaspoon salt

6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, diced

1/4 cup pecans, roughly chopped

Make the filling:  Peel, core, and chop the apples in 1/2-inch cubes. Set aside in a bowl

Melt butter in a sauté pan over medium heat. Add the apples and sauté for about 8 minutes until the apples are semi-soft.

Add sugar, lemon juice, flour, and cinnamon to the apples and stir to combine.

Cook until mixture begins to bubble, then turn heat to low and cook for another 3 minutes, stirring constantly. Transfer filling to a bowl and let cool while you make the crust.

Make the crust: Line a 9 by 13 inch pan with aluminum foil, leaving enough to hang over the edge and act as handles to remove bars after baking. Grease foil.

Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt together in a bowl and set aside.

In a stand mixer, cream butter and sugar together on medium speed for several minutes until light and fluffy.

Add egg and mix to combine.

Add flour mixture and mix to combine.

Pour the dough into the prepared pan and gently press into the bottom of the pan and about 1/4” up the sides, making sure it is level. Set pan aside while you make the streusel.

Make the streusel: In a stand mixer, combine sugar, flour, and salt and mix to combine.

Add butter and mix until crumbly and the butter pieces are very small.

Add pecans and mix just to combine.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Spread cooled apple filling evenly over the crust, leaving about 3/4” between the pan sides and the filling.

Sprinkle the streusel evenly over the filling.

Bake for about 35 minutes until the top layer is golden.

Cool completely on wire rack before removing. Cut into 1” x 3” bars.

Yield: 39 1” x 3” bars

Roasted Pluot Phyllo Tarts and a Farewell to My Kitchen

Want to know what the highlight of my last week was? Here's a clue:

 

Yes, that's me standing next to my brand-new stove in my brand-new place. Excuse the ridiculous glare from the flash of the little handheld camera we brought to document any issues in the home walkthrough (fortunately, none). Needless to say, I'm very very excited by my new kitchen and all the shiny new appliances just waiting to be used. I'm really hoping I don't make the oven explode or burn down the place during the inaugural session! When all my baking equipment is moved in and the place is all prettified, I'm sure you'll be seeing some more pictures of space in all its glory!

Before this new chapter can begin, though, we've still packing up everything for the big move this weekend. I'm starting to feel little flutters of nostalgia for our old apartment already - it's hard to give up living right in the heart of San Francisco, where you're but footsteps away from anything and everything. I might even miss all the acrobatic maneuvering I did to bake in the kitchen, juggling sheet pans and bowls on every flat surface possible - well I'm going to miss it in the way you miss something you know you'll never have to deal with again:)

This little tart might be one of the last things I'll ever bake in this kitchen; maybe next-to-last, if I'm able to squeeze in some baking time this week. In keeping with the theme of cleaning out the cupboards and uncovering ingredients begging to be used, I pulled out a package of phyllo dough from the freezer. This apple phyllo napoleon of Emily Luchetti's is still one of my favorite recipes, and I've always tried to keep some phyllo dough on hand for whenever the urge for its fabulous flaky lightness struck. This time, inspiration came from an old issue of delicious. magazine: Roasted Pluot Tarts with Almond Sugar Phyllo.

This recipe turns the phyllo sheets into a beautiful bloom of a tart shell: brushed with butter and sprinkled with ground almonds and sugar, the phyllo bakes into a wonderfully flaky and delicate bowl, perfect for filling with a lemon mascarpone mixture, and topped with pieces of roasted pluot. You can pretty much use any of the stone fruits that are in abundance at the market now - peaches, nectarines, plums. I happened to pick these pluots because they were the most brilliant, luscious ruby hue, and they were fantastically, sublimely sweet. 

Forming the phyllo cups is simply a matter of draping/lightly pressing the dough into some regular tart tins - you aren't trying to mold it to the tin, just propping up the dough so that it bakes into a bowl shape. I found that tins with removable bottoms will let you push out the baked shells easily without breaking them. The filling, a mixture of mascarpone, whipped cream, and lemon zest, manages to taste rich and creamy yet feel ethereally light in the mouth. It also provide the perfect pillow for the slices of pluots, sprinkled with sugar and roasted in the oven. Altogether a delicious frame for some of my favorite summer fruits. And you don't even need to roll out any tart dough! I polished this tart off pretty quick, with only a couple of crispy shards left on the plate.

So I've been packing up the kitchen while typing up this post, and now almost all my kitchen gear has been packed away - gasp! It's weird to see my shelves lonely and bereft of the pans and plates stacked precariously on them, and I'm having funny panicky pre-withdrawal symptoms, wondering what I'll do in the remaining days before I can unpack in the new place. Wish me luck with the rest of the move - if all goes well I'll be my new home next week!

Roasted Pluot Phyllo Tarts

Pluots

4 pluots, plums, peaches, or nectarines

1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/2 cup sugar

Phyllo

1/2 cup sliced almonds

1/4 cup sugar

4 sheets phyllo, defrosted (I used Athens brand from the store - follow instructions on box)

3 1/2 tablespoons butter, melted

Lemon Mascarpone Filling

10 1/2 ounces (1 1/4 cups) heavy cream

1/4 cup confectioners' sugar

8 1/2 ounces (1 cup) mascarpone cheese

zest from 1 lemon

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Lightly grease four 4-5 inch round tart tins - ones with removable bottoms work best.

Finely grind the almonds and sugar in a food processor.

You will need a fairly large surface to work with the phyllo. Stack the phyllo sheets and cut into four even sheets. Trim each stack into 5 inch squares.  Take a single sheet of phyllo and lay it flat on the work surface. Keep the sheets you are not using to the side under plastic wrap and damp towel.

Brush the phyllo with some of the melted butter and press it, buttered-side down, into a tart tins. Lightly brush some butter over the top, then sprinkle with some of the almond sugar.

Butter a second sheet of phyllo and place on top of the first sheet at a slight angle to form a star shape. Brush butter over the top and sprinkle with some of the almond sugar.

Do the same with the other two sheets of phyllo.

Repeat this with the remaining phyllo and tart tins.

Place tins on a baking sheet and chill for about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, wash and slice the pluots into 1/4" thick slices. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and spread the pluot slices out on it.

Dot the tops of the pluot slices with butter and sprinkle with sugar.

Bake in the oven for about 10 minutes until the pluots are soft and the edges slightly browned. Remove from oven and let cool while you make the filling. Reduce oven temperature to 350 derees F.

Whip the cream in a stand mixer until it forms soft peaks. Add in the confectioner's sugar and whip to combine.

Beat the mascarpone cheese in a medium bowl until softened. Fold in the whipped cream until well combined. Add in the lemon zest and fold in.

Place tart tins in oven and bake about 10 minutes or until they have turned golden brown and crispy. Remove and let cool on wire racks before removing tart shells from tins.

Place tart shells on plates. Spoon in some of the mascarpone filling and top with pluots. Serve immediately.

A Sip of Summer

 

 Whenever I'm in the mood for summer holiday, my mind always drifts to soft sandy islands afloat in glass-clear seas, bare feet dangling over hammocks, and tropical fruits hanging lush and ripe from the trees. 

Alas, no island getaway for me this summer, but fortuitously, I received a sample of The Perfect Puree of Napa Valley in my mail - in mango!  Although it's certainly great to be able to take advantage of seasonal produce, it's nice to have a quality alternative. When I was working at the bakery and we were making raspberry and passionfruit pates de fruits year round, fruit purees like these were a lifesaver: the consistent quality of good fruit purees takes one less variable out the complicated calculus of pastry.

I had also just gotten these adorable little dessert glasses - perfect for making verrines, those gorgeous French desserts that look like captured rainbows. Verrines are meant to be a feast for the senses - a beguiling combination of colors, textures, and tastes. I got out one of my favorite inspirations, a book on verrines by Stéphane Glacier, and there, as if pulled right out of my daydreams, was a mango-and-coconut striped number, ready to quench my thirst for a tropical getaway.

The coconut cream uses pastry cream lightened with whipped cream, one of my very favorite techniques. Although pastry cream has a glorious multitude of uses, sometimes I like to mix it with whipped cream to give an airier texture and soften the flavor. With intensely rich and creamy coconut milk added, the whipped cream also prevents the final mixture from becoming too cloying or sweet.

I combined the mango puree with a little sugar and gelatin to create a jelly layer. Glacier's original recipe combines mango and passionfruit purees, if you want your tropical verrine to be a veritable orchard of fruit. One note with using purees: as with using fresh fruit, the amount of sugar to add depends on the existing sweetness. Some purees are presweetened, so be sure to taste before putting extra sugar in.

I've made mango mousses before, but I like this mango jelly because it preserves the brilliant golden-sunset hue of the fruit, and provides a nice contrast to the coconut cream. Also, since it's a jelly, you only want to have a thin layer (unless you're going for Jell-O-esque cubes), so it makes for an elegant visual.

The very lovely photo in the cookbook showed the verrines decorated with chocolate curls, but since it was nearly 90 degrees in the city (yes, in SF, no joke!) I decided against the pain of tempering chocolate in high heat and opted for some chocolate wafers instead. I think it makes them look like little ice cream sundaes - sipping up summer, indeed!

Although San Francisco is not exactly the ideal place for outdoor unheated swimming pools, all the bodies of water I passed by this shimmeringly hot weekend looked mighty tempting. I hope you all get to enjoy a splash in the pool this summer!

Tropical Verrines

adapted from Verrines et Petits-Gateaux

makes 12 verrines

Coconut Cream

2 cups milk

10 tablespoons sugar

6 large egg yolks

4 tablespoons cornstarch

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

8 1/2 ounces coconut milk

8 1/2 ounces whipped cream

Mango Jelly

10 1/2 ounces mango puree

2 ounces sugar

6 grams (1 packet) powdered gelatin

For the coconut cream: heat 1 1/2 cups of the milk and 4 tablespoons of sugar in a medium saucepan on medium heat until it comes to a simmer.

Meanwhile, whisk the remaining 6 tablespoons of sugar and the egg yolks together in a medium bowl.

Whisk the remaining 1/2 cup milk and cornstarch together in a small bowl, then add to the eggs and whisk to combine.

When the milk on the stove has come to a simmer, pour in a slow stream into the egg mixture, whisking constantly to prevent the eggs from cooking.

Pour the mixture back into the saucepan and cook over medium heat, whisking constantly, until the mixture thickens into pastry cream, about 3-4 minutes. Stir in the vanilla.

If you see any lumps or cooked bits in your pastry cream, press it through a strainer. Place a piece of plastic wrap against the surface of the pastry cream to prevent a skin from forming and let cool.

Whisk the coconut milk into the pastry cream until combined and smooth.

Gently fold in the whipped cream into the mixture into combined.

Spoon the mixture into a pastry bag fitted with a round tip for ease of filling the glasses.

Combine the mango puree and sugar in a small bowl.

Bloom the gelatin with about 1/4 cup of water, then microwave for about 10 seconds until it is liquid.

Add liquid gelatin to the mango puree and stir to combine. Let sit for about 5 minutes to cool.

Pipe some of the coconut cream into the glasses, about 1/3 of the way up.

Pour some of the mango puree on top in a thin layer. Refrigerate for about 10 minutes to let the mango set slightly.

Pipe some coconut cream on top of the mango layer.

Pour some more of the mango puree on top, stopping short of the top of the glass.

Refrigerate verrines until set.

Cherry Ice Cream Profiteroles with Almond Granita

Is everyone swooning over cherry season like I am? Of all the myriad sybaritic pleasures of summer, a bowl of ripe cherries ranks near the very top. At the waning of a lazy, sun-drenched afternoon, bare legs turned a few shades darker, book propped open and half-finished in your lap, a pile of cherry pits and ruby-stained fingers - perfection.

So, what to do when you get carried away at the market and come home with more cherries than even you can possibly eat? Solution: Ice cream, another summertime icon.

When I make fruit ice creams, I like to try and preserve as much of the fresh fruit as possible. So instead of pureeing the cherries to a perfectly smooth coulis, I roughly chopped them up, then cooked them in a saucepan with a little sugar on a low simmer until the cherries had softened up, and their juices had thickened slightly. Then I swirled the cooled, jammy mixture into ice cream base, poured it all into my ice cream maker and let the machine do its magic. The result? A gorgeous cherry-blossom-pink ice cream studded with pieces of cherries, tasting vividly of the fruit. There's no eggs in this ice cream, so it's closer to a sherbet; especially when trying to showcase fruit, I find the fewer ingredients, the more your star flavor will shine.

 

Now, I could also just sit on the porch and eat my way through a tub of this ice cream (are you sensing a theme here?), but to take this ice cream to the next level, I decided to make some pâte à choux and create some cherry ice cream profiteroles. To finish it off, I remembered an almond granita that I'd had at a local restaurant - I'd been wanting to try to reproduce it and now it seemed like the perfect accompaniment. If you're wondering how this simple summer treat turned into a major dessert project, umm, it seems to happen to me quite often. Inspiration may be a capricious muse, but I'm never one to turn down her visits!

Granita is the Italian version of snow cones, made from water mixed with fruit puree or other flavorings, which is then frozen and broken up into sparkling crystals. Icy-cold fruit granitas are a natural refresher for a hot day in Rome; however, I'd encountered an almond granita served with espresso cream at an osteria in SF that had me swooning. 

While most granitas are made with water, this one is also made with almond milk and almond paste, which gives extra depth of flavor. It's also why it's less icy-looking. I spent an interesting morning trying to make almond milk from almonds - while the result is tasty and certainly a tasty alternative to dairy milk, you're perfectly fine picking up some almond milk from the store.

Making granita is a fascinating exercise as well: to get the crystals to form, you should break up the granita with a fork about every half hour so it doesn't freeze into a solid block. If you're the multitasking type, you can work this into the pate a choux making process, so that when you're finished baking the puffs and filled them, you'll also have a beautiful granita ready!

 

Does it seem like an awful lot of work to get up from the poolside lounge for? Well, I think it's worth it - I'll certainly be making another batch before cherry season is over!

Oh, and by the way, if you haven't noticed to the right of the Dessert First page, I've put some some of the videos I made for Chow to promote my Field Guide to Cookies. I demonstrate a few cookie-making tips in the kitchen. I also hope to have some news to share about the candy book very soon!

Cherry Ice Cream

makes about 1 1/2 quarts

3/4 pound cherries, pitted and roughly chopped

2/3 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon lemon juice

2 cups heavy cream

1 cup milk

Combine cherries, 1/3 cup sugar, salt, and lemon juice in a medium saucepan. Cook on medium heat for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the cherries turn soft and jammy and the mixture is  bubbling. Remove from heat and let the mixture cool to room temperature.

In another medium saucepan combine the cream, milk, and remaining 1/3 cup of sugar. Heat over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is almost simmering.

Remove from heat, pour mixture into a bowl, and chill over an ice bath until it is room temperature.

Stir in the cherries. Cover and chill the mixture in the refrigerator for 4 hours or overnight.

Freeze in an ice cream maker per manufacturer's instructions.

Pâte à choux Dough

makes 20-24 puffs

1/2 cup milk

1/2 cup water
4 ounces unsalted butter, cut into pieces
3/4 teaspoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
4 + 1 large eggs, room temperature

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper.

Combine milk, water, butter, sugar and salt In a heavy bottomed medium saucepan and heat on medium high.

Once the mixture is at a rolling boil, add all of the flour at once, reduce the heat to medium
and start to stir the mixture vigorously with a wooden spoon. The dough should come together into a ball. Continue stirring for another 3-4 minutes until it is completely smooth and soft.

Transfer the dough into a bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat to cool it down slightly. Add in four eggs one at a time, beating after each egg has been added to incorporate it into the dough. The dough should be very thick and shiny but not liquidy.

Transfer the dough to a pastry bag fitted with a 1 inch plain tip. Pipe out mounds of dough on the prepared baking sheet, spacing about 2 inches apart.

Beat the last egg with a little water to form an egg wash, then brush lightly over the puffs.

Bake in oven for about 15-18 minutes, rotating halfway through. The puffs should turn golden brown and be dry to the touch. It's easier to underbake than to overbake; make sure they are dry before taking out.

Place sheet on a wire rack and let puffs cool before slicing in half and filling with ice cream to make profiteroles.

Almond Granita

1 cup almond milk

1 cup water

3 ounces almond paste

3 tablespoons sugar

1/4 teaspoon lemon juice

Combine all the ingredients in a blender and process until very smooth.

Strain into an 8 inch square baking pan (stainless steel is best).

Place in freezer and let freeze for about an hour. Using a fork, break and crush the mixture into small pieces. Freeze for another 30 minutes and repeat the process, turning the pieces into even small crystals. The mixture should be firm and ready to serve after about 2 hours of this process.

Tweaking an Old Favorite: Meyer Lemon and Chocolate Tart

Whenever Meyer lemons come into season, I always get an irrepressible desire to make lemon tarts. They've always been one of my favorite things to make, and their sunny yellow hue is perfect reflection of the increasingly light-filled days. (We even had a mini-heat wave in San Francisco this weekend, with everyone scrambling to pull sundresses and shorts out from the depths of the closet. Seeing as San Francisco has approximately 2 weeks a year where it's actually hot enough to wear shorts, no one wants to waste those precious days!)

My favorite version of lemon tart is based on the first one I ever made out of Pierre Herme's Desserts by Pierre Herme . It's hard to improve on Pierre Herme's genius: a crisp, buttery pâte sucrée tart shell, filled with the most unctuous of lemon curds. Amazing how two such basic pastry fundamentals could combine into something so elementally good; proof that you don't need complicated techniques or multitudes of elements to make something really delicious.

So I felt the same compulsion this year to break out the tart rings when I saw the little nuggets of sunshine popping up at market; this time, though, I also got the urge to change things up a little bit. Gild the lily just a little and dress up the tart for after dinner.

The perfect accoutrement turned out to be a layer of bittersweet chocolate ganache, spread in a thin layer on the bottom of the shell, before the lemon curd is spooned in. At first I tried just a layer of melted chocolate, but when it hardened it was a little difficult to cut through and compromised the wonderful delicate crispness of the tart shell. A velvety, supple ganache provided just the right dark undertones to the cheery bite of the lemon. And since Meyer lemons are a bit sweeter than regular lemons, the chocolate helps ground and highlight the curd - the sunset in wait at the end of every sunny day, perhaps.

If you don't have Meyer lemons, regular ones will work just as well. While the tart should be chilled, I find it tastes best when you take it out about 20-30 minutes before serving - it lets the curd soften up slightly and regain and its wonderful addictive, creamy texture. It may be hard to wait that long, but believe me, it's worth it.

Hope your days are turning sunnier and warmer!

Pâte Sucrée

makes about 8 tartlets

1 1/4 sticks (5 oz) unsalted butter, room temperature

3/4 cup confectioner's sugar, sifted

1/4 cup almond meal or ground almonds

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 egg, room temperature

1 3/4 cups all purpose flour

Lemon Cream

adapted from Pierre Hermé's Desserts

makes about 1 1/2 to 2 cups

1/2 cup sugar

zest from 2 lemons

2 eggs

1/2 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

5 ounces unsalted butter, cut into 1 inch pieces, softened but not melting

Chocolate Ganache

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate

1/2 cup heavy cream

For the pâte sucrée tart shells: Place the butter in a food processor and process until soft and creamy.

Add the confectioners' sugar and process until well blended and smooth.

Add in the almond meal, salt, and vanilla extract and process until well blended.

Add in the egg and egg yolk and process until just blended; scrape the bowl down as necessary.

Add the flour and pulse just until the dough starts to come together into a ball; don't overprocess. The dough will be very soft like cookie dough.

Scrape the dough out of the food processor and make into a ball. Flatten out into a disk, wrap in plastic, and chill in refrigerator for at least 4 hours until it is firm enough to handle.

When you are ready to bake off the tart shells, take the dough out of the refrigerator - let it warm up a bit if necessary but not too much because it will start melting fast.

Roll out the dough between two sheets of plastic wrap to 1/8" thickness. If the dough gets too soft, place back in the refrigerator to firm up.

Place the tart rings you will use on a baking sheet lined with a Silpat or parchment paper.

Cut out circles of dough to fit into desired tart rings. Press the dough carefully into the tart rings and up the sides, being careful not to stretch the dough or it will shrink when baked. Place the rings into the refrigerator to chill for at least 30 minutes. Trim off the excess dough from the top of the rings.

Heat the oven to 350 degrees F while chilling the tart shells. When you are ready, line the shells with parchment and fill with beans or rice to keep the shells weighed down.

Bake shells for about 15-18  minutes until they are lightly colored and the shell feels dry to the touch. Remove from the oven and place on a rack. Remove the beans and parchment and brush the bottoms of the shells with a light egg wash (made from an egg white and a bit of water). Let cool before filling.

For the lemon cream: Create a water bath by placing a saucepan of water over heat to simmer and placing a metal bowl unto the pan so its bottom does not touch the water. Combine the sugar and lemon zest together with your fingers and add to the metal bowl. Whisk in the eggs and lemon juice.

Cook the mixture over the simmering water, whisking constantly, until the cream reaches 180 degrees and thickens. Keep whisking while the mixture is heating up to prevent the eggs from cooking.

Once the cream is thickened - you should be able to make tracks in the mixture with your whisk - take the cream off the heat and strain it into the bowl of a food processor or blender. Let the cream rest for a bit until it cools to about 140 degrees.

Add in the butter pieces a few at the time and combine on high speed. Once all of the butter has been added, let the mixture combine for a few minutes longer to ensure the mixture is perfectly smooth. It is the addition of butter that changes this recipe from a simple lemon curd to a rich, satiny-smooth cream.

Once the cream is finished pour it into a container and let it chill in the refrigerator for about half an hour before assembly.

To finish the tarts: Place chocolate in a bowl.

Bring cream to a boil in a saucepan over medium heat.

Pour cream over chocolate let sit for about a minute. Stir with a wooden spoon to melt and combine chocolate with cream into a smooth ganache.

Spoon some ganache into the bottom of the tart shells and spread into a thin layer. Let set for about 10 minutes to firm up.

Spoon some lemon cream into the tart shells, filling all the way to the top. Shake the tarts lightly to smooth out the cream out. Chill tarts in the refrigerator for about an hour before serving.

Plum Perfect: Galette, Two Ways

Edited 9/19/08: Go right below the last photo to see the text I added about Robert Steinberg, co-founder of Scharffen Berger Chocolates.

I'm no fashionista by any means - you'll sooner find me in Sur La Table than in Saks, and when in bookstores I go for the cooking magazines over the fashion glossies. However, it has not escaped even my offhand attention that purple seems to be quite the popular shade for fall - in every store window I pass by there seem to be clothes in hues of mauve, eggplant, violet, and plum.

Well, my wardrobe may not be on-trend for fall, but my kitchen is: I've been hoarding plums of every variety that I can find at the market. Their dramatic, jewel-toned skins give them star presence on my table: every day they remind me that I ought to use them properly, in a way befitting their gorgeous succulence.

I'd been wanting to make a galette, and what better showcase for delicately thin slices of plum, fanned out in a golden, ruby-edged sunburst?

Interestingly, galette can mean many things in France, depending on the region. It can be a flaky, sablé-style butter cookie. It can be a crêpe, especially a savory one. It can be a round, pastry-like cake - King's Cake is known as galette des rois, and I made it in pastry school - what a time-consuming task that was! But galette can also mean a freeform, open-faced tart, and that also seems to be the most popular incarnation of the term over here in the states. To me, the casual, almost deceptive rusticity of a galette is what makes it so charming: it simultaneously embodies the spontaneity of making use of what's fresh at the moment, and it's also a really tasty way to enjoy some really delectable fruit.

I kept the galette as simple as possible: my favorite blitz puff for a light, flaky, buttery crust, spread with a little frangipane to add some nutty dimension, and a topping of plum slices - nothing else required. 

However, just as in fashion you choose the styles that appeal to you (or least pick the ones that suit you best so you don't end up a fashion victim!), so I've made two variations of the galette, so you can select which one catches your fancy.

Modern Classic: This is traditional, tried-and-true, and never out of style: buttery puff pastry, almond frangipane laced with vanilla bean and cinnamon, and sweet, juicy plums on top. Notice the puff pastry got so puffy it nearly unfolded itself!

Edgy Sophisticate: This number adds a few unexpected twists for a different sensibility. The puff pastry has cocoa powder added for a bittersweet chocolate richness, and the frangipane is flavored with star anise. Combined with the plums, this makes for a decadent and no less delicious experience.

I found both of them worked quite well with the fruit without overpowering it. Flaky, delicate, fruity, sweet, rich - everything I was looking for. And it was so simple to put together, it's easy to experiment with other additions and combinations. I hope you try your own combinations of flavors with this galette. Who knows, you may find your signature style!

Added 9/19/08: When I took the photo above a day ago, I had not heard the news yet that Robert Steinberg had passed away on Wednesday. A sad coincidence that I used his chocolate in my latest photo, but I hope to turn it into a belated tribute to him.

When Robert Steinberg and John Scharffenberger joined together to form Scharffen Berger Chocolate Maker, Inc. in 1996, they were at the forefront of the American artisan chocolate revolution. As their chocolate bars made their way into stores across the country, Americans learned about where cacao comes from, how it is turned into chocolate, and what makes a good chocolate. Before them, most home bakers could only find Hershey's and Nestle chocolate in the stores. Now bakers everywhere can find Scharffen Berger and Guittard and Valrhona in the supermarket, and they have Scharffenberger and Steinberg to thank for that.

I have Scharffen Berger's book, Essence of Chocolate - see this post for my in-depth thoughts on it. It's one of my favorite cookbooks, because you can really feel the passion of these two men for chocolate. It's not just a vanity cookbook with some recipes - there are in-depth, heartfelt discussions of the cacao industry, on how chocolate is made, and on the joy that making and eating chocolate can bring. The two of them have made an indeliable contribution to the world of fine chocolate - and I'm so proud that the company is in the Bay Area, right in my backyard.

It is a sad day for chocolate lovers everywhere. You can also read the offical statement by John Scharffenberger and the New York Times article on this chocolate visionary. I hope you remember Robert Steinberg the next time you eat or bake with some fine chocolate - I'm going to have a piece of Scharffen Berger 70% in his memory.

Plum Galettes

makes (4) 7" round galettes

3-4 plums

1 recipe Blitz Puff, see below

1/2 cup frangipane, see below

Egg white for egg wash

Turbinado sugar for sprinkling

Apricot jam for glaze

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Line a couple baking sheets with parchment paper or Silpats.

Halve and pit the plums. Slice them thinly.

Divide the puff pastry in four parts and return three pieces to the refrigerator to keep them cold. Roll out the fourth piece on a lightly floured surface to about 1/4" thick (not too thin).

Using a sharp knife, cut the pastry into an approximately 8"-9" circle, depending on how big the plum slices are. There should be about 1/2" between the edge of the pastry and plums after you lay them out.

 Spread a thin layer of the frangipane on top of the puff pastry, leaving a 1/2" border clear. Do not make the frangipane too thick or it will puff out and make the galette lose its shape.

Arrange the plum slices in a circle on the frangipane.

Fold the border of the pastry up and over the fruit, pleating the edges together. If you want, you can brush the edges with a little beaten egg white and sprinkle turbinado sugar over them.

Bake in the oven for 15 to 20 minutes, rotating halfway through. The puff pastry should puff up and turn golden brown. Place galettes on a wire rack and brush lightly with apricot jam. Let cool slightly before serving.

Blitz Puff Pastry

makes (4) 9" circles

10 ounces all purpose flour

10 ounces unsalted butter, very cold, cut into 1-in pieces

3/4 tsp salt

90 ml water, ice cold

For chocolate puff pastry, add 1/2 cup cocoa powder to the flour before combining with the butter.

Combine the flour and butter in the bowl of a stand mixer. Mix the ingredients together on low speed  until the mixture is shaggy and resembles cornmeal, with visible pieces of butter still. Do not let the flour and butter turn into a solid ball of dough - if the components are completely mixed you will not have the layering of flour and fat needed to form the flaky layers!

Add the salt to the mixture. Pour in the water and mix on low speed just until the dough starts to come together; again, don't let the dough turn into one solid lump. There should still be little pieces of butter and the dough should be sticky.

Turn the dough out onto a well-floured surface and form into a square. If the kitchen is warm and the dough is very soft and sticky, place it on a sheet pan and chill in the refrigerator for about 10 minutes until it firms up enough to work with.

Using flour as necessary to keep the dough from sticking, roll out the dough about 1/2 inch thick and in the shape of a rectangle. The dimensions are not important - a roughly rectangle shape is fine, but try to keep the edges straight and square with each other so when you fold the dough over the edges will line up evenly.

To do a single turn on the dough, imagine the long side of the rectangle divided into thirds. Fold one end third over onto the middle third, then fold the other end third over on top, making a trifold. Make sure the edges are lined up as evenly as possible.

Roll the trifold out again to about 1/2" thickness and in the shape of a rectangle, switching the directions of the long and short sides - in other words, the folded sides of the trifold should become the long side and the open sides should become the short side.

Do another turn (trifold) with this rectangle.

Repeat this process one more time so you have done a total of three turns. If at any point the dough starts becoming very soft or rubbery, let it rest in the refrigerator for a little bit before working on it some more.

Roll the dough out into a rectangle. This time, do a double turn - imagine the long side of the rectangle divided into fourths. Fold both end fourths over onto the center fourths, then fold the two sides together again so all four layers are stacked on top of each other. Wrap the dough up completely in plastic and refrigerate until ready to use.

Frangipane (adapted from Nick Malgieri's How to Bake)

3/4 cup blanched almonds

1/2 cup sugar

1 teaspoon almond extract

2 eggs

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1/4 cup flour

If you want to flavor the frangipane, you can add: 1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste, 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon grated star anise. Add more to taste.

Place almonds and sugar in a food processor. Process until almonds are very fine.

Add almond extract and one of the eggs and process until smooth.

Add the butter and process until fully combined and the mixture is smooth.

Add in the egg and process just until incorporated.

Add in the flour and process just until incorporated.

You can use the frangipane immediately or store in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.

Figs for Fall: Vanilla Bean Fig Cupcakes with Orange Blossom Honey Frosting

No, I know it's not fall yet, but it's hard to believe it's already the end of August and the waning of the year is just around the corner. Labor Day holiday, especially, snuck up on me this time: I'm definitely not ready to celebrate summer's last hurrah just yet.

Fortunately for us San Francisco residents, Mother Nature balances out the wintry cold summers she bestows on us with a shimmering, balmy Indian summer that usually happens sometime in September and can often last into November. Never let it be said we don't have seasons out here on the West Coast - they're just a little different than seasons elsewhere!

Along with a few more golden weeks to ease the pain of passing summer, we've also got figs - figs at their most lovely and voluptuous peak.

I'll admit I wasn't a natural-born fig lover. Like many children, I was drawn to the straightforward, simple fruits: the sturdy, crisp crunch of an apple, the crayon-red color of strawberries, the comforting roundness of an orange. Those firm-fleshed, cleanly sweet fruits, pears and cherries and peaches, were reassuring in their distinctive shapes and feels. I had a fear of squishy: soft meant unripe, or overripe, or yucky and sticky. Persimmons, longans, figs - they all fell outside my fruit "comfort zone" and were thus resolutely ignored.

Well, thank goodness for growing up and learning to give things a second chance. I'm happy to say that I managed to outgrew childish prejudices and view foods both old and new with a an unjaded eye and open mouth. Most foods, at least...I'm still working on durian...

Figs are very interesting to me. They aren't an easy fruit to love, and what I mean by that is they're not simple. You don't just pop figs in your mouth like grapes. When I eat a fig, I look at it resting in the fruit bowl, cupped in the palm of my hand, suspended from my fingers in midair. I study its asymmetrical, pendulous shape, its slightly wrinkled, aubergine or verdant skin, its velvety, sinuous contours. It is fragrant, its ripe, intense scent filling the air. I put it to my lips, and bite through the just-barely resisting skin. The flesh beneath is dusky, rosy red; pulpy, soft as a whispered secret. There are little seeds scattered like stardust in the gleaming fruit, and as I bite through I hear little pops, feel the bursts of crunchiness in my mouth. The fig is sweet, yes, rich and honeyed, intensely fruity. Eating a fig is, and should be, a luxurious experience, as it demands the full attention of all your senses.

Like summer and all good things, figs should be enjoyed at their peak before they disappear: they are best eaten within a couple days of purchase as they should already be very ripe when you buy them. While eating them out of hand is an undeniable pleasure, baking with them has proven a happy challenge as well.

I'd been tweaking my basic vanilla cupcake recipe for a while, and the perfect opportunity presented itself: Vanilla Bean Cupcakes with Fresh Fig Filling and Orange Blossom Honey Frosting.

Figs make lovely jams, which are a perfect way to preserve their flavor for the rest of the year. This fig filling follows the same idea, cooking figs with sugar into a lovely thick puree, perfect for filling a cupcake or spreading on toast (Since it's not a true jam it obviously won't keep as long). I used brown sugar to enhance the deep, layered flavor of the figs, and because I often find that in many fig fillings the figs are overpowered by too much added white sugar. I used a mixture of Black Mission and Kadota figs in this filling, but any figs would work well - just adjust the sugar to your taste.

The vanilla cupcake is my latest iteration: light, fluffy, with a crisp sugary top. I used egg whites in the batter to let the vanilla flavor shine through, and also because it gives the cupcakes a lighter texture. They make a wonderful base for any number of frostings, and the well-behaved crumb lets you cut through it or cut out the top easily, as you can see.

Finally, I wanted the frosting to have honey in it, to harmonize with the figs. I settled on an orange blossom honey, mixed into a basic cream cheese frosting. I didn't want a buttercream because I was afraid it would be too overpoweringly sweet for the figs - although the cream cheese frosting meant I couldn't pipe it as decoratively as buttercream I think it was a good compromise. The tartness of the cream cheese helps cut through the sweet honey and combines well with the vanilla and fig to make a sweet little late-summer dessert.

I hope wherever you are, dear readers, that you enjoy a beautiful last weekend of August, and that you find time to eat a fig or two - like summer, they'll be gone before you know it.

Vanilla Bean Cupcakes

Makes about 12 cupcakes

1 1/2 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
1 egg plus 2 egg whites
1/2 cup whole milk
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a muffin tin with cupcake liners.

Sift flour, salt, and baking powder into a bowl and set aside.

Beat butter and sugar in a stand mixer on medium speed until very light and fluffy, about 3 to 4 minutes.

Add in the egg and beat to combine. Add in the egg whites, one at a time, and beat to combine.

Combine milk and vanilla bean paste together in a cup.

Add the flour mixture and milk mixture to the batter in alternating additions, starting and ending with the flour. Once the last bit of flour has been added. beat just to combine - do not overbeat.

Divide batter among the muffin tins. Bake in the oven for about 15 to 20 minutes, until the tops are lightly golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool on wire rack.

 
Fresh Fig and Brown Sugar Filling

Makes about 3/4 cup

1 cup (about 8) fresh figs, washed and cut into small pieces

1/4 cup water

1/4 cup brown sugar

2 teaspoons lemon juice

Combine all the ingredients in a medium saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, for 15-20 minutes, until the mixture thickens. The figs should turn soft and mushy; mash them with a spoon. Remove from heat and let cool. If you don't like the little pieces of fig skin left, you can process the mixture quickly in a food processor, but I find it doesn't bother me; the chunks give the filling more texture and thickness.

Orange Blossom Honey Cream Cheese Frosting

makes about 1 cup

8 ounces cream cheese

2 ounces (1/2 stick) butter, room temperature

3/4 to 1 cup confectioners' sugar, sifted

1/4 cup orange blossom honey

Beat the cream cheese and butter in a stand mixer just until combined - do not overbeat.

Add in the sugar and honey and beat until combined. If it seems a little runny, add more confectioners' sugar but be sure to taste so you don't make the frosting too sweet.

Weekend in Carmel

This post took me quite a while to put together, mainly because I was sifting through vacation photos, and we all know how long that can take. A couple weeks ago, I went down to Monterey for the weekend, and I wanted to share my adventures there. The problem was, choosing from all the photos I took became a week-long endeavor!

Anyway, I love the California coast because it's so easy to drive even an hour and be somewhere completely different - totally new scenery, climate - even the air smells different. We decided that a little escape from the urban claustrophobia of San Francisco (also: San Francisco gets downright cold in summer!) for some more wide-open spaces and sunnier skies down south. So on an overcast Friday morning, we hopped in the car and made the hour-and-half drive down to the Monterey Peninsula.

 

Our first stop once we arrived, in true foodie style, was for lunch! We went the to Red House Cafe, a little restaurant in Pacific Grove that embodies down-homeyness to a T.

Potato leek soup. Warm and cozy, perfect eaten on the porch of the cafe after a long drive down from San Francisco.

 

For dessert, we could choose from a vast array of pies, puddings, cakes, and cookies. I went for the special of the day, a peach and blueberry clafouti. More on this later.

 

Seen in Pacific Grove: quirky and lovely, just like the town.

We took a stroll along Asilomar Beach, which is at the edge of Pacific Grove. This is typical scenery at Monterey and Carmel: overcast, chilly, the sky a pale blank and the sea a sullen grey, the rocks artistically rugged and foreboding. Whether in good or bad weather, the California coast has never been soft or gentle, but a challenging, rough-hewn feast for the eyes.

 

If you are in Asilomar, do stop by the Asilomar Conference Grounds, a sprawling retreat designed by storied architect Julia Morgan. The numerous buildings and halls scattered in carefully planned nonchalance among the pines and sand dunes are done in the classic Arts and Crafts style - gorgeously erected and detailed, sometimes eccentrically so, as you can see below:

We stayed at the Tickle Pink Inn, which is nestled in the Carmel Highlands and enjoys a view of the ocean and coves. I took this the next morning, before the fog had burned off: the mist-softened landscape and hypnotic crashing of the waves gave the scene an unworldly serenity. I'm sure all the inns and hotels in this area all boast of fabulous views, so really, all I recommend is that if you haven't visited Monterey or Carmel or Big Sur, do so because it's such an all-encompassing sensory experience. Although I did enjoy the Tickle Pink Inn very much - and who can resist the name?

 

Here's a friendly gull who liked to perch on our balcony railing. He would drop by to visit several times during our stay.

Passionfish is a restaurant passionately dedicated to serving sustainable seafood, and in Monterey, one of the epicenters of the sustainable seafood movement, there seemed no better place to dine our first night. The dining room is unprentiously elegant, the service intelligent and friendly. My hand-lined mahi in a black pepper-rum sauce was richly piquant, and dessert was equally satisfying: a white peach cobbler.

We went up to Carmel the next morning. Looks just like Hawaii, doesn't it? Except for that massive fog bank hanging off the coast. This shot isn't particularly well framed, but I like it because I notice you can see little stories going on with the people: You can see a couple strolling down the beach, a little girl running back to her mother with her father trailing behind, and off in the corner, a woman playing with her dogs. Isn't it cute?

Carmel Beach has some Hawaii-worthy white sands, and is also dog-friendly: here are a couple of canine buddies having some fun in the surf.

After the beach, we made a beeline for Patisserie Boissiere in Carmel-by-the-Sea, a classic French bistro that also offers up fabulous pastries, Paris style. Their strawberry triangle is a flaky delight of puff pastry, pastry cream, and fresh fruit, and their banana chocolate cream tart was a sophisticated take on banana cream pie. This place is also perfect for picking up a lunch to enjoy al fresco down the the coast.

We continued our drive down the coast towards Big Sur. When the sun is out, the waters turn the most gorgeous shades of turquoise, cerulean, and jade.

These have to be some of the luckiest cows ever: grazing with a view.

We made it as far down the coast as McWay Falls, one of the most famed sights in Big Sur. This 80-ft high ribbon of water is actually a tidefall, as it empties directly into the ocean. This is about as close as you can get to this transcendentally beautiful cove; public access is prohibited, ensuring that this view will remain untrammeled by the touch of humans.

This is the view of the Pacific from the Post Ranch Inn, a ridiculously sybaritic hotel perched on the edge of the Big Sur cliffs. Sadly, we did not get to stay here, but we did venture onto the property to see what the fuss was all about. And I have to admit that in a weekend full of gorgeous views, these were far and away some of the most stunning.

Standing tiptoe on the edge of the continent, I am reminded of the poem Blackberrying by Sylvia Plath:

The only thing to come now is the sea.
From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me,
Slapping its phantom laundry in my face.
These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt.
I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me
To the hills' northern face, and the face is orange rock
That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal.

Magic hour.

This view (as well as the one above) were from our room balcony. I love how you can see the lights going on in some of the homes; it looks so lush and dreamlike, like cottages in a Hansel and Gretel forest.

Here's our gull friend again, admiring the sunset as well. Imagine! He gets to see this view every day, for free!

On our way back north the next day, we stopped by Santa Cruz, a true bohemian laid-back surfer town, and the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk in all its glorious childish cheesiness. The west coast has never had as many of these amusement-parks-by-the-sea as the east, and the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk is one of the few remaining ones today. The Boardwalk is celebrating its centennial, and the city has clearly done a very thorough job of polishing up the place, which may be why it looked so much shinier and spiffier than in my childhood memories.

Summer vacation was clearly in full swing when we arrived: families waited in line for the big old wooden rollercoaster or the log water ride; teenagers in swimsuits ran down to the golden beach or headed for the arcades, the smells of cotton candy, hot dogs, and grilled corn wafted our way, and our ears were filled with the cacaphony of happy people out enjoying themselves.

Notice a pirate theme in our vacation? This was one of those pendulum-style rides where you're slowly swung back and forth and finally in a full circle. I didn't go on this ride, since it makes me rather queasy.

Although you can probably guess which ride I did go on:

It's amazing to me that in the space of a weekend you can experience so many different places, all within a few hours of each other. I don't know if this qualifies as a "stay-cation", as the buzzwords seems to be, but if it is, it doesn't seem to terrible to stay at home!

One of my favorite desserts from the weekend was the peach blueberry clafouti from Red House Cafe, and once I got home I couldn't wait to replicate it. I think I got carried away and put too much fruit in there, but with peaches at their bursting-sweet ripeness I couldn't help myself. Combined with the tartness of the blueness and the creamy, vanilla bean-flecked custard, this makes for one sweet summer memory.

Peach Blueberry Clafouti

makes one 9-in clafouti or (2) 5-in clafoutis

2 ripe peaches

3/4 cup blueberries

2+6 tablespoons sugar

3 large eggs

3/4 cup milk

3 tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Butter a 9-in baking dish or pie plate, or individual dishes, and place on a baking sheet.

Wash and peel the peaches, and cut into small wedges. Combine the peaches and blueberries and 2 tablespoons sugar in a bowl and let macerate for about 15 minutes.

Whisk the remaining sugar and eggs together in a mixing bowl.

Add in the milk and whisk until combined.

Sift the flour over the mixture and whisk until combined.

Whisk in the vanilla bean paste.

Spread the fruit over the bottom of the dish. A single layer is fine; don't put too much fruit in or you'll overwhelm the batter.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan, just covering the fruit.

Bake in the oven for about 35-40 minutes (if you are making individual dishes, be sure to check halfway through to see if they are baking faster) until the batter looks puffed and golden and is set in the center.

Let clafouti cool for about 10 minutes out of the oven before serving. You can also serve at room temperature - it will keep for about 12 hours.

 

Taking a Sip of Memory

It's been lamentably long since my last visit to Rome, and all my memories of it have taken on that misty, dreamy quality when you're not sure whether it's a true remembrance or one half-embellished with your fantasies of what really happened. Although, Rome is so very old and layered in memory that I wonder whether this happens to everyone who passes through. As you walk down the cobblestone streets or gaze at the magnificent monuments, it's hard not to think of all the hundreds of thousands of people who have done the same over the centuries. You're just the latest in the unending chain of people doing the same thing in the eternal city. The person throwing coins in Trevi Fountain? The person buying flowers in Campo de' Fiori? The person gazing skyward at the frescos in the Sistine Chapel? I'm sure I did all those things, just as I'm sure so many have done so before me, and will after me. It's easy to turn my trip into some sort of "Stereotypical Greatest Hits of Rome" after all this time.

There are a few memories that stand out as I riffle through them: seeing Piazza Navona for the first time, lined with buildings in all shades of terra cotta and sienna and umber. The train ride from Rome to Florence, watching the countryside uncurl outside the window. Running into an acquaintance from work at the Uffizi (now that memory, I know I didn't make up!) Learning how to order my favorite flavor of gelato (stracciatella).

And then there is the memory of one hot afternoon wandering around Florence, eyes overstuffed with art and feet protesting another museum foray. We stopped at a cafe to take una pausa, whereupon my companion declared that now was the perfect opportunity to try that immortal Italian liqueur, limoncello.

Of course, limoncello is classically meant as a digestif, preferably on a balmy summer night next to the Amalfi coast. But it's a very fine companion for a lazy afternoon as well, and as tourists, we at least had the excuse of ignorance. The limoncello arrived in tiny glasses, chilled and frosty white. The almost shockingly yellow liqueur looked like distilled sunshine. I took a sip and let that frozen shard of sunlight unfurl itself, tingling, inside me.

Years have passed since that trip to Rome, and just as long since I've had a sip of limoncello. But when I found myself in possession of a bottle of it the other day, it was as easy as falling into dream to take a sip and remember that dusty summer afternoon and my first taste of limoncello.

Now, as with any other new foodstuff that I encounter since I've gone to pastry school, I find myself pondering, how could I use this in my baking? The answer revealed itself in a most serendipitous manner when I came across a recipe in Delicious magazine for a strawberry and limoncello semifreddo - the name itself positively wafts summer.

What can be confusing about semifreddo, as I've detailed before, is that it's really more of a class of dessert than one specific recipe. That's why when you go researching semifreddo you're likely to find a whole range of techniques, from Italian meringue to pâté à bombe to crème anglaise. You have semifreddo that is studded with nuts and nougat, formed into a terrine, and served in slices. You have semifreddo that is frozen into cups and eaten with a spoon, like a mousse. The only consistent qualification for semifreddo, it seems, is that is must be light and fluffy - to the point of gossamer insubstantiality.

The point of the various techniques that go into making semifreddo is to incorporate air into the mixture, which is what gives the final product its fabulous lightness. Since there's no ice cream machine doing the heavy work of aerating, all the trapped air must come from the whipped cream, the whipped eggs, etc. This recipe falls on the simpler, breezier side: there's whipped cream and whipped egg whites which are folded into a just-whisked egg yolk and sugar mixture. The result is very soft, creamy, and light - my ideal semifreddo.

Even if you have an aversion to spirits, there's no need to shy away from this dessert. The limoncello gives the semifreddo a dreamily smooth, sublime lemon flavor, without the bright tartness usually imparted from the fruit. It's like a cross between lemon curd and lemony whipped cream - what I imagine to be the perfect density of sunlight-dappled clouds. The swirl of sweetened strawberries adds a rich fruitiness to ground the etherealness of the semifreddo.

Although the alcohol in the limoncello will help the semifreddo from becoming rock-hard in the freezer so quickly, it's still best to take the semifreddo out about a half hour before you plan to serve it, to give it time soften slightly (if you make individual cups, like I did, it may need even less time - don't let them melt!)

Strawberry Limoncello Semifreddo

adapted from Delicious Magazine

about 8-10 servings

1/2 cup (110 g) sugar

2 pints strawberries, hulled and roughly chopped.

1/4 cup (60 ml) limoncello

4 large eggs, separated

2 1/2 cups (600 ml) heavy cream

Place a 2 1/2 quart heavy ceramic dish, or individual glasses of your choice, in the freezer to chill.

Combine 1/4 cup of the sugar with 1/2 cup water in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat and then simmer for 3 minutes until the sugar has all dissolved and the mixture has thickened.

Add the strawberries and stir to combine. Take the saucepan off the heat and use a fork to mash the strawberries into the sugar syrup. Stir in 2 tablespoons of the limoncello, then let the strawberrie cool to room temperature.

Combine the egg yolks and the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar in a bowl and whisk together until pale and thickened. Add in the remaining limoncello and stir to combine.

Whip the cream in a stand mixer on high speed until soft peaks form.

Whip the egg whites in a clean bowl just until soft peaks form - do not overwhip.

Carefully fold half of the whipped cream into the egg yolk mixture to lighten it up. Fold in the rest of the whipped cream, taking care not to deflate the cream too much.

Fold in the egg whites, again taking care not to deflate the whites.

Pour the mixture into the pre-frozen dish or cups.

Stir in the strawberry mixture. Because the semifreddo mixture is so light, I find the strawberries tend to sink to the bottom and if there's too much liquid it also starts deflating the mixture. If your strawberries are in a lot of liquid, you may want to strain it before you add to the semifreddo. Pour them in gently and quickly, and don't overmix into the semifreddo.

Cover with plastic wrap and freeze for at least 5 hours or overnight. Take out of the freezer about 30 minutes before serving, less for individual portions.