Life With a Whisk

Better with company

2011-06-28T07:14:00.000-07:00

I'm a big fan of cookies. I love splitting all-American, big, honking, saucer-sized cookies, studded with chocolate chips, any variety of nuts, butterscotch, or held together with old-fashioned oats, ideally crisp on the outside and softer towards the middle. Since baking with Tuesdays With Dorie, I've grown fond of the slice-and-bake sable -- dainty, sandy, melt-in-your-mouth, buttery goodness where one is never enough. And, really -- I've grown up with Walker's all-butter shortbread with the familiar red plaid packaging.

But, these... These Sour Cream Chocolate Cake Cookies, Spike's choice for this weekend's assignment... I'm not so versed in the spongey cake cookie, and I don't know quite how I feel about them. The ingredients came together quite easily, though the actual scooping of the dough was a bit of a nuisance. Once baked, they were indeed as described in the book, so there wasn't a problem in execution. And though I can throw them back (at least three in one sitting), there is still something lacking for me. And my co-workers must agree, because I have never brought in anything that disappeared so slowly.

The thing is, I think the cakey nature of these cookies begs for one thing, and upon reading the feedback from other bakers, my instinct is correct -- these cookies are like the base for whoopie pies, and they need FILLING! So, this morning, I'm going to make peanut butter filling, and I'll report back! All is not yet lost...

...and they're nearly gone. Whew.

It all began in bulk...

2011-06-14T22:11:00.000-07:00

My first biscotti was not enjoyed at the edge of a piazza in Italy, accompanied by a shot of dark espresso, nor did I have it at a cafe along Columbus in North Beach where the waiters get their kicks by showering patrons with compliments and exaggerated Italian charm. It wasn't made by a classmate's mother either, with technique taught by his/her nonna. My first biscotti was from the gourmet foods powerhouse that we all know and love -- Costco.

As a family of six, the only way to make anything last in the house was by buying in bulk, and we took full advantage of the super store. We bought pallets of Yoplait yogurt, boxes of pre-apportioned Quaker oatmeal pouches, jugs of orange juice, packs of contact lenses, and biscotti. They came in clear jars, individually wrapped but "Not to be resold." My mother loved them with International Foods Cafe Francais instant coffee, and so we bought these jumbo containers of cookies, sometimes dipped in chocolate, sometimes not.

I, on the other hand, was never a the biggest biscotti fan. I probably didn't like crunchy cookies at all when I was younger. Why work so hard for sweet little treat, when you could have a perfectly flaky croissant or melt-in-your-mouth dark chocolate?? This recipe from Dorie for Chocolate Biscotti was inevitable, however, and I just decided to go for it this morning.

Jacque of Daisy Lane Cakes made this week's Tuesday's With Dorie selection and as with so many recipes of late, my initial ambivalence toward the key ingredient or type of pastry even, is replaced with genuine enthusiasm for the baked good. Crunchy, but not too crunchy; sweet, but nowhere near too sweet. These dipping cookies were so easy to demolish and then follow with another.

My dad arrives tomorrow from Taiwan for a little visit to check up on the kids. My mom isn't coming as the flight is a bit too long to bear for her, but with that canister of Cafe Francais, my dad will definitely be toting a bag of Dorie's biscotti.

A riff

2011-05-24T00:00:00.000-07:00

It's been two-and-a-half years since my first Tuesday's With Dorie post, and after hell and high water -- or, work and too many social engagements -- keeping me from fulfilling my TWD obligations every now and again, I've been back on track and, finally, it is my turn to pick this week's recipe from Baking: From My Home to Yours.
Since I first read about an online baking group attempting a recipe from Dorie's tome of tried and true breads, cakes, pies, and puddings each week then writing about their results along with the rest of the group, I've wanted to be a part of it. I figured that it would encourage me to bake more often, and bake things that I wouldn't normally choose to bake myself for whatever reason. In these last couple of years, I've learned that the moment Swiss buttercream comes together is a wondrous event, crystallized ginger can be revived through steaming, rugelach may be my favorite pastry, and the freezer is every baker's friend -- all valuable lessons that will serve me well in this lifetime.
As a relative late-comer to the group, and not the most diligent blogger, there weren't too many recipes left to choose from, however, my pick of Oatmeal Nutmeg Scones could not be more appropriate. That this is a scone recipe already has my name all over it -- I've proclaimed my love for them. And my coworkers can attest that my preferred breakfast of champions is a bowl of doctored-up oatmeal. Nearly every weekday morning, I heat up a bowl of old-fashioned oats and water on medium power for five minutes, along with chopped dried apricot, cherry, and whatever nut I have on hand, then finish it off with a puddle of soy or almond milk and generous dashes of cinammon and nutmeg. Nutmeg, oh, nutmeg. Oatmeal just isn't the same with out you. I'm liberal with the spice anytime a Dorie recipe calls for it, and even when it doesn't. There's a reason why I love my Microplane so much, and it has a lot to do with grating whole nutmeg.
Another wonderful, ingredients straight-out-of-the-fridge quick bread recipe, these scones are perfect for mornings when you aim to please but are short on time. The dough was noticeably more wet than the Maple Cornmeal Biscuits from last week, so cutting them into triangles and transferring them to the baking sheet was a bit messy (flouring a dough-cutter before each cut helps), but the resulting product was tender, buttery, and aromatic. The oatmeal added some heft to the pastry, so a couple of these would definitely hold me over until lunchtime, and they were a satisfying vehicle for rich, Kerrygold butter and vibrant, apricot jam as well. Oatmeal, nutmeg, apricot jam? substitute the buttermilk for almond milk, throw a handful of nuts in the dough and I think I've got my new breakfast of champions...

Oatmeal Nutmeg Scones
from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

makes 12 scones

1 large egg
1/2 cup cold buttermilk
1 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/3 cups old-fashioned oats
1/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 stick plus 2 tablespoons(10 tablespoons) cold unstaled butter, cut into small pieces

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Line a bking sheet with parchment or a silicone mat.

Stir the egg and buttermilk together.

Whisk the flour, oats, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and nutmeg together in a large bowl. Drop in the butter and, using your fingers, toss to coat the pieces of butter with flour. Quickly, working with your fingertips (my favorite method) or a pastry blender, cut and rub the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture is pebbly. You'll have pea-size pieces, pieces the size of oatmeal flakes and pieces the size of everything in between -- and that's just right.

Pour the egg and buttermilk mixture over the dry ingredients and stir with a fork just until the dough, which will be wet and sticky, comes together. Don't overdo it.

Still in the bowl, gently knead the dough by hand, or turn it with a rubber spatula 8 to 10 times. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and divide it in half. Working with one piece at a time, pat the dough into a rough circle that's about 5 inches in diameter, cut it into 6 wedges and place on the baking sheet. (At this point, the scones can be frozen on the baking sheet, then wrapped airtight. Don't defrost before baking -- just add about 2 minutes to the baking time.)

Bake for 20 to 22 minutes, or until their tops are golden and firmish. Transfer them to a rack and cool for 10 minutes before serving, or wait for the scones to cool to room temperature.

In a crunch

2011-05-17T20:52:00.000-07:00

When you've just barely gotten back from an 11-day trip to Asia...
When your internal clock is operating somewhere between Pacific and Taiwan/Hong Kong time...
When you've slept 12 hours and feel like you could sleep 12 more...
When you need a little not-too-sweet, buttery breakfast treat and are already late for work...

Then this is the thing to bake.

I've been running on fumes for the last 48 hours. 58 if you count the flight back to Los Angeles, and you should because getting a crick in your neck as you sleep upright really isn't sleep at all, and 82 if you count the minimal slumber from the night before as we tried to make our last night in Hong Kong count (and staying out until 5 or 6am is normal there). Surprisingly, I haven't been suffering from being wide awake at 4am like I would always be when I was younger. In fact, I've been sleeping way too much -- exhibit A being today's sudden realization that it was 9:17am, I should be at work at 9:45, but I still had to make this week's Tuesday's With Dorie pick by Lindsay of A Little Something...Sweet!

But these Maple Cornmeal Biscuits require none of the room-temperature eggs/milk/butter fuss that other baking recipes do. I simply rolled out of bed, preheated the oven, measured out the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, salt, and baking soda, waited for the oven to come to 425 degrees, and did that last minute cutting-in of the cold butter and incorporating of the milk and maple syrup before plopping the dough on a cookie sheet. It really was the simplest recipe.

By the time the biscuits emerged from the oven, I was ready to go, and threw them in towel-lined basket as Dorie suggested they be eaten hot anyway. I got to work with the craggy, golden mounds still warm to the touch. With a quarter cup of maple syrup being the only sweetener in the recipe, the biscuits went perfectly with a bit of jam, though not at all necessary either. The cornmeal provided a wonderful texture and was another kick in the head as to its amazing properties in baked goods. Those lingering grains in the finish of a bite get me every time.

Butter love.

2011-04-26T22:54:00.000-07:00

My family grew up with margarine. Imperial margarine to be specific. No -- there was one memory I have of Australian butter from a round, yellow, vintage-looking tin, but that was a very rare instance and more often than not it was a large, plastic tub with the crown emblem in the fridge. My parents were convinced that butter was devil spread (like so many other families in the 80s), so I adopted the same belief and was none the wiser probably until I started baking. Sure, there were pats of real butter wrapped in metallic foil when we went out to dinner, or at the continental breakfasts during our family trip to Europe in 4th grade, but still used sparingly lest we drop dead.

When I started this baking hobby, so many cookbooks and recipes would emphasize the importance of using real butter instead of margarine, and being such a new hand at baking, I had to get it right and pressured my parents into springing for the forbidden nectar of dairy cows. Having it around the house now, I would steal a swipe of butter for my toast instead of Imperial (and even Brummel & Brown for awhile) -- that was the beginning of the end.
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Butter enthusiasm grew exponentially and arrived at its current level during my last trip to Paris. Of course, Paris, right?? There are few populations that take their butter more seriously than the French, and if we had Pascal Beillevaire or Bordier stateside, I'm sure we'd be fanatical too.

Shortbread has always been a favorite of mine because of the gloriously pronounced flavor of butter. There may be no better way to showcase a butter than with shortbread, in fact, and this recipe that Valerie of Une Gamine dans la Cuisine chose for this week's Tuesdays with Dorie assignment, did just that. Along with the zest of a lemon and especially with the addition of cornmeal, these cookies had an amazing texture and very addictive quality. I had included rosemary polenta cookies from Frances (one of my favorite restaurants in San Francisco) in my holiday assortment so I was already familiar with the magic that ground corn can work and knew that though such a simple recipe, it had amazing possibilities. Incorporating just a handful of ingredients, make sure you use a good quality butter (I used Plugra) and it will effortlessly render the shortbread astounding -- you won't be disappointed

Double my pleasure.

2011-04-12T22:02:00.000-07:00

Strawberry and Rhubarb. A common pairing, seemingly age-old even, but not for me. Like so many other treats steeped in Americana, those of the strawberry-rhubarb variety never made it inside my home growing up. Our sandwiches were made with Oroweat Masters' Best seeded and nutty breads and always made a bee-line for the soda fountain when we stopped in to the family restaurant because we weren't allowed to keep it in the home. Instead, my mother encouraged the consumption of a new-fangled just-add-water-to-powder concoction at the time - Barleygreen, or a fermenting, yeasty drink whose curds would be recycled for the week until I don't even know when. On very rare occasions, Thrity Butter Pecan ice cream, Sara Lee cheesecake, or a Twinkie would appear, but as far as goods from an actual bakery went, unless it was a mango mousse cake from Sheng Kee (just sweet enough), I knew nothing of it.

Along comes my friend, or, rather, along goes my friend. My dear friend Liz decided a couple years ago to leave the sunny skies and congested streets of Los Angeles for green pastures (greener pastures being Sacramento), and as a farewell gesture, made her one of her favorites -- strawberry rhubarb pie. It was my first attempt with this flavor combination, not quite sure what it should taste like, and I never got to know it any better as off she went with the lattice-topped thing of beauty. Digging in to desserts before gifting them just isn't my thing, though time and time again, I wish it was.

This week's Tuesdays With Dorie pick by Sarah of teapots and cake stands could be considered my first official foray into strawberry-rhubarb desserts (because we all wonder, if a tree falls in the woods and no one is there, does it make a sound?), and having tasted it, I can vouch that it really did happen. And I loved it.

Crisps are magical things to begin with, and that this was a double crisp?? I'm going to have to change all my crisp recipes into double crisps now, because as much as I love naturally sweet, seasonal fruit, the oat-flour-butter-nut-spice amalgamation is my favorite part of a crisp, and I know I'm not alone. A top and bottom layer of crisp?! This may just be better than pie!! The crystallized ginger also added an unexpected perk that would go well with plums, pears, peach -- it has to be my new favorite dessert addition (and Dorie's trick of steaming aged, hardened ginger over simmering water is genius)!!

I'll see my incomparably hilarious, wonderfully self-deprecating, and now, amazingly happy friend soon, and when I do, this is the winner I'll be toting.

A new spin.

2011-03-22T22:13:00.000-07:00

When does one decide on their preferred type of brownie?? As with chocolate chip cookies, most everyone has a certain standard for the best brownie ever, but there are innumerable riffs on the basic brownie that have become almost standard in themselves over the years. Fudgey, cakey, dense, light-as-a-feather, chocolate chips, nuts, chipotle, cinnamon, peanut butter swirls, peppermint, toffee bits, butterscotch chips, espresso, brown sugar, browned butter, and now -- what's this?! -- honey?? With all these possibilities, people have their favorites, but I can't see anyone ever denying a brownie because, after all, isn't it really all about the strong hit of chocolate?

Suzy of Suzy Homemaker chose Honey Nut Brownies for this week's Tuesday's With Dorie recipe, and in all honestly, the name had no appeal to me initially. Is this going to be like chocolatey Honey Nut Cheerios?, I wondered. What's the deal with honey in a brownie?? I was proven wrong.

Though I'm more a fan of brownies on the dense side, I still cannot stay away from a cakey brownie, especially not a good one, and with the substitution of whole wheat pastry flour, I didn't have to. The flour switch may have made the brownies a little too cake-like, but the flavor was definitely marvelous. Anyone passing by the kitchen at work had to steal a sliver even after they had already polished off two pieces because the smell was so intoxicating. It must have been the honey (or Lyle's Golden Syrup as I didn't quite have enough honey so I made another little substitution) because I don't believe I've ever made a brownie whose smell permeated through rooms and minds like that one did.

Needless to say, that brownie had a pretty short lifespan. Most of the office couldn't resist its charms and they made quick work of it. Though the brownie didn't linger, I'll have to re-use the honey trick on another recipe and see what results that yields. A chewy, nut-studded, honey-scented chocolatey square...ohhh, the rapture!

Sacrifice and substitutions.

2011-03-15T07:24:00.000-07:00

I'm by no means a religious person, but befriending and surrounding myself with primarily Catholics in high school, and having required instruction in Catholic traditions too, I know my way around Lent a little bit. I'm fairly certain that when my friends were giving up Diet Coke or red meat during the period between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday, I was happily enjoying both, but in recent years, I've come to adopt a sacrifice or two just for the sake of seeing if I have the will power and follow through for it. I don't care to deprive myself ever (which is not to say I have fried chicken and doughnuts everyday), but every now and again, it's nice to have a heightened mindfulness about what I'm putting into my body.

This year I'm giving up white carbs and cheese. As a member of Tuesdays With Dorie, I am a pastry and baked goods fiend as I'm confident most everyone else is the group is. Fresh baguettes, pie crusts, layer cakes, tea cakes, flaky croissants, rich rugelach, not to mention cheesy, whites pies, Chinese boiled dumplings, and spaghetti carbonara -- I love it all, and I'm going to miss them for the 41 remaining days. Luckily, I love whole wheat products. A whole wheat bagel with peanut butter is something I crave as much as buttered rye toast, so I'm not completely deprived, but I'm not going to gorge on whole wheat carbohydrates either.

This week's TWD assignment of Citrus-Currant Sunshine Muffins by Lauren of Bella Baker was an easy job for a whole wheat pastry flour substitution -- that, and I ran out of all-purpose flour (what luck!), so the temptation wasn't even there. I also didn't have as much orange juice as the recipe called for, but buttermilk was readily available to step in. The batter came together in no time at all and what yielded probably did not have the tender crumb that all-purpose flour would have made, but the muffin was nevertheless delicious. It really did taste like Spring in your mouth. I'd love to try adding a topping of streusel next time to make it an orange coffee cake muffin, but the possibilities are endless to this muffin base.

Ahhh, with whole wheat pastry flour, these next 40 days will be a lot easier to handle.

Morning perfection.

2011-02-22T08:08:00.000-08:00

Scones are just about my favorite breakfast pastry. I would maybe say a flaky, buttery, warm croissant, but if I'm looking for something to really tide me over until lunch and not just a singular perfect bite (that is rarely all that perfect anyway), I'll pick the scone. And then for afternoon tea!! If a scone-only tea is offered, I will happily just order that, as good as the sandwiches and petit fours may be. With a smear of raspberry jam and a dollop of clotted cream, I am in heaven.

And there are so many kinds of scones! There are the dense, craggy ones, tender, biscuit-like ones that break off into layers, the crumbly store-bought variety that are best bitten straight into rather than broken off into pieces (lest you enjoy sweeping crumbs in your mouth), glazed, dried or fresh fruit-embedded, enhanced with chocolate. My idea of perfection is the biscuity kind with a firm shell that behooves breaking the scone off into pieces, pieces that break off almost layer-like, and that go from hand to mouth with ease. Butteriness is a given. This week's Tuesday's With Dorie pick by Mike of Living Out West was it.

Another super simple recipe, I was excited to whip these together before work yesterday morning. Perhaps freshly ground almonds would have been more fragrant, but I decided to give my roommates a break and didn't run the food processor at 7am when I had Trader Joe's almond meal on hand. For anything not particularly refined, I love using their almond meal for the flecks of skin and not-too-fine grind that I prefer against the tongue. Whisk together the dry ingredients, cut in the cold butter with your hands, toss together with the wet ingredients, shape, and off into the oven they went. These were the perfect size, too. They puffed up beautifully, held their form nicely, had a lovely golden tan, and just seeing the almond flecks throughout made me smile. Paired with Tiptree strawberry jam they were so good, and with sharp cheddar cheese, even better!

Scones allow for endless variations so walnuts, pecans, pistachios, along with dried apricots, figs, sour cherries, and spices might all be experimented with soon! As long as the texture maintains, I can do no wrong.

To each their own.

2011-02-15T19:34:00.000-08:00

Caroline and Claire of Bake With Us chose this week's Tuesday's With Dorie selection of Chocolate Oatmeal Drops. This was one of those no-appliance-necessary recipes that we can all appreciate, and minimal bowl usage used too! It brought me back to those early baking days when the only recipes I would attempt required a bowl and a wooden spoon or whisk, sometimes they were from a box, and they more often than not turned out well! Techniques have gotten a little more complicated since then, and bowls, spatulas, measuring cups, sieves, cutting boards, and serrated knives really add to the dish load, so every once in awhile it's a breath of fresh air to throw everything in a bowl and stir.

This recipe was so simple and straightforward, and Dorie's warning that the butter would separate from the other melted ingredients when the mixture got too hot was absolutely necessary. I simply took the bowl off the heat for a little bit, continued stirring, and the parts became one once more.

The final batter was quite soft after just being mixed, but when scooping each subsequent batch, the batter got firmer and firmer. I feel like the firmer batter made for a cookie that held its shape better in the oven even if the actual composition of the cookie was no different from the softer batter. My drops didn't spread in the oven like those of other bakers in the P&Q link, and though delicate, the individual cookies were actually pretty easy to transfer to a rack straight out of the oven. I can only assume this was due to having the batter sit out longer before baking.

The finished product was not as thrilling as I had hoped. Normally, I love the addition of rolled oats to cookies, but the oats just seemed to make for an undesirable texture this time. Too much chewing for a crumbly, brownie-type cookie. I enjoyed the deep chocolate flavor and hint of cinnamon though. The cookies do taste better with age. It's been two days and I think it's a tastier cookie than when I first took it out of the oven (which is often the case with chocolate desserts, don't you think??) Other people are loving this cookie, so I'm not quite sure why it doesn't have the same allure for me, but to each their own. I'll go hang out with Dorie's rugelach!

A breakthrough.

2011-01-25T21:33:00.000-08:00

Bundt cakes were among the very first things I attempted when I was still testing the waters with baking. My cousin, seven years my senior, had joined a sorority when she started at UCLA -- one that had reputation for always offering good food at their events and, appropriately enough, had their own sorority cookbook, economically bound with those black plastic spirals. This was their arsenal, the recipes that would make beer-guzzling men weak in the knees. Some time into her first year, my sister tried the leftovers of one of the Kahlua cakes from an event and could not stop gushing about how much she loved that cake. Turns out, at its heart was a box of yellow cake mix, but with a few bells and whistles (i.e. the addition of vanilla pudding mix, a generous cup of Kahlua, etc.), it became a pretty special and crowd-pleasing bundt cake (as can be expected with a sufficiently boozy pastries). You'd get a kick just from sniffing the finished product. This recipe made the rounds to my own events countless times while I was in high school, and eventually, we outgrew that cake and started making cakes without boxed mixes!

No one really turns down a bundt cake, but this style of cake just doesn't excite me like it used to. They're almost always universally appealing, which isn't at all a bad thing to be, but it has been starting to feel like if I've made one bundt cake, then I've made them all. It was with this attitude that I baked this week's Tuesdays With Dorie choice of Nutty, Chocolaty, Swirly Sour Cream Bundt Cake by Jennifer of Cooking for Comfort, and expected to have a perfectly decent bite for dessert. I was completely, and pleasantly, surprised.

Rugelach are among my favorite baked goods in the world (and one of my favorite Dorie recipes) and this cake, predictably buttery like a pound cake, also has a tang from sour cream, creating this base with a taste that is completely reminiscent to rugelach dough. I left out the orange zest and raisins because I knew the other people helping me eat the cake would object, but the cinnamon, chocolate, and walnut ribbon throughout the batter re-created all the flavors I love about rugelach. (The addition of orange zest and raisins would still conjure up the same sentiment, I'm sure.) Warmed up in the toaster oven, the crust of the cake becomes a crisp, wafer like shell, and irresistible. Sour cream bundt cakes may not ever be en vogue again, and they rarely disappoint, but, everyone, I have found my new favorite bundt cake/coffee cake, and I know it as Rugelach Cake.

Swoon.

An honest muffin.

2011-01-17T19:10:00.000-08:00

Growing up in a household of four children, shopping trips to Costco were a given and an occasion to which my siblings and I always anticipated with excitement. My dad wouldn't always let us tag along, for fear we'd load the cart up with cookies, candy, and pastries galore, I'm sure, but the opportunities arose every once in awhile, and usually with only one kid at a time. We stocked up on such quality products as Kirkland Signature toilet paper, Nature's Valley granola bars, pallets of Yoplait yogurt, gallons of Minute Maid orange juice, and, of course, mens' briefs. Sometimes a tray of croissants would show up on the kitchen table when we came home from school (Costco croissants -- my, how far we've come...), but other times, it would be an assortment of mini-muffins. You know the ones -- chocolate chip, double chocolate, bran, blueberry, and my favorite, lemon poppy seed, packaged in fives with clear cellophane. They were perfect for throwing in our sack lunches, and we did. I can only hope I didn't devour them all myself, or in one sitting, though I wouldn't put it past my fifth grade self (kids must burn a lot of calories in P.E., right??)

I can't recall having been as big a fan of lemon poppy seed than when they came five to a pack. Given today's normal varieties of muffins, I feel a magnetic pull towards sour cream coffee cake muffins or the spiced options and lemon poppy seed is often shafted. This week, however, our Tuesdays With Dorie assignment was for my beloved mini variety, only in full size form and with the optional additional of jam that I took full advantage of, as chosen by Betsy of A Cup Of Sweetness.

Despite my early fondness for the lightly scented lemon muffin with poppy seeds suspended throughout, this was my first attempt at baking them. The two-bowl wonder of a recipe really could not be any more simple. I threw the dry ingredients together, then the wet, combined, and off into the oven they went in less than ten minutes. Half of them got the star treatment with a belly of raspberry jam, but that additional dimension wasn't all that necessary. It's an honest muffin. Straight-forward. Despite the raspberry jam and lemon glaze, you know that at its heart, it's just a lemony muffin with the perfect proportion of poppy seeds. And I love Bonne Maman raspberry jam, but I don't need to search for it in every bite -- the cake is just so good alone. With or without the bells and whistles, if I were to wake up to it every morning, life couldn't possibly be so bad.

Dreary skies and coffee cake.

2010-12-21T23:54:00.000-08:00

I love a good coffee cake. It's such a simple baked good, but when confronted with a slice, I know few people that would refuse it -- especially with a cup of coffee.
It doesn't matter whats mixed into the batter. Exotic fruits, fragrant spices, a chocolate swirl -- as long as it has some buttery streusel on top, I'm all over it.

This week's Tuesday's With Dorie choice of Cardamom Crumb Cake by Jill of Jill's Blog was one that I especially couldn't pass up. It wasn't until the last few years that I really tasted what cardamom was like, and I've loved it ever since. Nearly anytime a recipe calls for cinnamon, I always try to add a tiny bit of cardamom and freshly grated nutmeg. It's such a distinct taste, and relatively accessible in my opinion, but it appears on menus and in baked goods so rarely!

I didn't have orange on hand so I ended up using lemon, but I think it was still appropriate. Despite the butter content of this cake, the citrus made it so light. And combined with the sugary streusel, I didn't quite want to have just one piece.

So I didn't.

Quite the pair.

2010-11-16T19:37:00.000-08:00

Here we are in Los Angeles, enjoying warm weather and blue skies with a little over a week until Thanksgiving. I was in New York just a couple weeks ago enjoying the biting breezes and investing in a earmuff-headband thing from Uniqlo because, well, it was necessary (and adorable), and it was beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. I was lucky enough to have missed the 90+ degree heat wave, but aside from some decorations up at the Grove, one would have no idea that the holidays are just around the corner.

I purposely drive on Third Street through Hancock Park sometimes just to admire the turning leaves on trees lining the street of homes reminiscent of what I'd see in a romantic comedy set during the holidays. Sixth Street is an even better drive -- those colorful leaves even blow up and trail behind cars as you make the turns on the windy stretch. when I lived on the west side, my journey to work always included a segment on Barrington before it turned into McLaughlin, and it always felt like a suburban East Coast fall in those few moments.

Thankfully, I also have desserts to bring about the warmth and fuzziness of the season, so this week's pick by the sisters (and sister-in-law) Celestial Confections was especially welcome. I've never actually baked anything with cranberry before, and only made cranberry sauce from the fresh berries for the first time last year, but there really is no better time than now to test out a recipe.

A galette is a crostata is a free-form pie, so it comes with Dorie's buttery, flaky, amazingly delicious dough that I rave about time and time again. Just that would be enough (my co-worker could probably make a dinner with the crust cookies I make with the scraps), but the cranberry-ginger-lime filling has a brightness that makes you forget the gloom and doom of the season and rings in the holidays, too. The cranberry could have been a fine filling to the galette by itself (albeit one-dimensional), but the addition of the ginger and lime zest/juice provided a kick that suddenly made the pastry more interesting. My one minor grip with the final product is that it expanded much more than I expected -- though I didn't keep it out of the fridge long before I sent it to the oven, perhaps a post-assembly chill or freeze would be good to maintain the cute, compact shape of the galette after it having been baked.

The galette was undoubtedly a rustic looking thing, but it was met with rave reviews all around. Cranberry and lime have been known to be good friends with vodka, but with a hint of ginger in a rich crust, I think I'll stick with bourbon and devour this instead.

An old friend.

2010-10-26T07:19:00.000-07:00

There wasn't any question that I would be making this week's pick for Tuesday's With Dorie by by Emily of Sandmuffin. Dorie's All-American, All-Delicious Apple Pie is just that -- delicious. This wouldn't be my first time making it (it made an appearance at Thanksgiving a couple years back, and another time just because), but an excuse to fill my kitchen with the aroma of fall and loved ones' stomachs with toothsome apples and flaky pie crust was very much welcome. Yes, I was an "old hand" at this one, and then I realized I may have blogged about this recipe before, too, back when I was a more diligently keeping this up.

And here it was. Nearly two years ago I had experienced the revelation that apple pie can, indeed, be fantastic, and today, I'm still maintaining that position. This time, I chose Mutsus, Granny Smith, and a few Arkansas black apples. I hadn't baked with the Arkansas black before, and because they're so small, I can't imagine making an entire pie from them (the peeling and coring would be endless!), but they are such a distinct variety from the mealy ones that color the produce section of your conventional grocery store. And they're gorgeous -- it's the apple I imagine Snow White to have been been poisoned by, unable to resist the allure of its oxblood, semi-matte finish.

I've had a couple more years of pie dough rolling under my belt now, and the crust definitely draped over the mound of raw apples in a more attractive way (though as the volume of the apples decreased as they were baked, the crust caved a bit too), but there were also some less-than-sweet apples in the mix. I think next time I'll reintroduce the tsugaru apples and omit the Granny Smith standby.

I can't wait for apple pie leftovers. If I recall correctly, the flavor was even better on the second day. I may even lay some cheddar over that slice. Dessert for breakfast? Absolutely.

Back in the saddle.

2010-10-19T07:08:00.000-07:00

I've missed you. Heat waves and overwhelming commitments shouldn't be an excuse, but it's the truth. I admit, I did make time to bake birthday cakes and birthday treats, but I might as well be chained to those at this point -- there's no way around it. But, the weather has turned rainy and chilly, if only for this half of the week, and it's enough to be the kick in the pants I need to start baking for Tuesdays With Dorie again, and what could be more seasonal than a variation on pumpkin pie?? Things have finally settled down, and with Janell of Mortensen Family Memoirs choosing Caramel Pumpkin Pie, I have a feeling it's going to be a spectacular holiday season.

It's been awhile since I've made a pie, and was over the moon that this was my welcome-back recipe, but it's been so long that I was almost unsure when making the dough for the crust -- Was it wet enough? Too wet? What happened last time it was too dry? Everything worked out in the end with enough pinching and kneading (not the most ideal method, but it came together), and luckily holidays beget pies so I look forward to crust-making becoming second nature once again.

The crust was baked and cooled, and then came the tricky part -- making the caramel. Sugar was cooked in a skillet on the stove until it took on a mahogany color (difficult to gauge with a black-bottomed, non-stick skillet) and smoking, with heavy cream and butter then added to it. I got the mahogany color and the melted sugar was smoking ever so slightly, but it seems it had just gone over the edge and there became a hint burnt caramel flavor.

After it cooled, it was mixed into the pumpkin and spice mixture (no appliances necessary - hurrah!), poured into the pan. I realized at this point that perhaps a deep dish pie plate wasn't the way to go for this recipe. My love of crust runs deeps, so a deep dish pie with it's greater crust-to-filling ratio has my heart and it's a reflex to grab that pie plate every time. When I poured the filling into the par-baked crust, however, it only barely hit halfway up the pan. There was nothing I could do at this point, so off into the oven it went, spending about 10 minutes longer in there than projected.

I refrigerated the pie overnight, and in the morning, upon examining my sleigh bed of a pie with its large sloping headboard, I decided a whipped cream topping would be the way to go. I added some Maker's Mark to the cream as I hadn't added any rum to the filling as suggested, and covered the surface with the fluffy, white blanket, letting it reach the rim of the crust. Its secondary purpose was mellowing the burnt caramel flavor of the pumpkin, which wasn't bad at all, in my opinion, and did add a certain depth to the delicious (but sometimes one-note)taste of pumpkin. I'd be interested in making the pie again and taking the caramel off before it turns mahogany and seeing which pie I prefer.

So here begins another holiday baking season. I'm hoping it won't be completely overwhelming and leave me no time to blog, but it will surely be infinitely satisfying.

Not quite love.

2010-08-31T07:35:00.000-07:00

Espresso and chocolate are a marriage made in heaven, but a combination that I don't find myself gravitating towards often. Perhaps that it is such a ubiquitous pairing that anytime I find them together, I ask myself, "Okay - what else is there?" Seasonal fruit will trump coffee-chocolate every time, as will herbs and honey. Salted caramel and brown butter for the win, unless they're combined with espresso and chocolate, and in that case, the coffee-cocoa characteristics are forgiven. The addition of espresso or coffee to enhance the chocolatiness of a chocolate cake doesn't count (I support it emphatically), so aside from mocha macarons (which are usually pretty good at any patisserie), and the "tiramisu" I had at a recent Michael Voltaggio pop-up dinner(a soy/coffee/chocolate/mascarpone, panna-cotta-and-dippin'-dot revelation), I'll pass.

I was hoping that this week's Tuesday's with Dorie selection by Donna of Life's Too Short Not To Eat Dessert First would be another exception to the rule (and it was a perfectly good cookie!!), but not one I'll revisit unless specifically requested. My prejudices aside, it's a wonderful recipe because, save for the 2 hour chilling period, it is so quick and easy to throw together with minimal clean-up and effort. Portioning is a breeze, no hand-rolling necessary, and though the squares could have used a post-cutting chill in the refrigerator to firm up the dough a little more (the dough got soft just from cutting time), they kept their shape pretty well. They won't win any beauty pageants, but I think that'd suit them just fine -- they prefer the simplicity of a casual coffee over a highbrow afternoon tea anyway.

The height of Summer.

2010-08-24T19:50:00.000-07:00

I've been so neglectful of this here blog. I've been baking up a storm since June, but for many, many reasons (first camping trips, weddings, out-of-town guests, even more baking, etc.), I haven't gotten to the whole blogging part of this endeavor. It's a little bit essential.

And here we are, nearing the end of August, Angelenos already in despair that summer is coming to a close (though, we should all know Indian Summer is just getting started). Just walk into any farmers' market and you'll know that we're still in the thick of warm weather. Stone fruits abound and the "last ____ of the season!" signs are still nowhere to be seen. Rachel of sweet tarte chose this week's Tuesdays With Dorie recipe and I have to admit, I love it when the recipes chosen are absolutely befitting the season, as was the case this week. I just so happened to have a couple rapidly ripening peaches on hand and into Dorie's Crunchy and Custardy Peach Tart they went.

It's been a hectic time, still, and the crust was a godsend. Without having to wait for the dough to chill, the almond-flour crust was simply patted into the tart pan and frozen overnight. In the morning, I didn't have to get out the designated pie weight beans and just popped it into the preheated oven for a partial bake. The next day, my super-ripe peaches were fanned into the crust, a custard quickly assembled and coaxed in between fruit segments and the pan was returned to the oven until the filling set, with a light shower of almondy streusel midway through the bake time.

Although the streusel didn't stay remain crisp throughout the day, the almonds were still a welcome textural contrast to the soft peach and custard. The seasonality of the fruit really shone through as each bite was remarkably sweet with the natural sugar of the peach and not from the addition of refined sugar. The custard was a perfect complement to the roasted drupe, and also the crumbliness of the nut-blend crust. The crust was buttery and caramely and would make such a delicious cookie on its own, but all of the components just enhanced its partners. Any stone fruit and even pears or figs would perform wonderfully against the same custard and crust, so in a few weeks time, I'll be excited to showcase their splendors against the same base. This is the new chameleon of the kitchen.

Risen, sans raisins.

2010-06-15T20:21:00.001-07:00

Yeasted breads were the bane of my existence for the first 11 years that I was turning butter, flour, sugar, and eggs into something palatable. After being struck by the baking bug at age 15 and being gifted a respectable assortment of pans and miscellaneous baking accessories, the first cookbook that I added to our household's collection (which included several volumes from Fu Pei Mei, matriarch of the Chinese broadcast television cooking shows, and a 3-ring bound Better Homes & Gardens New Cookbook) was the Pillsbury Healthy Baking book, purchased at Barnes & Noble in Fremont, CA, probably passing time after Saturday Chinese school. I could imagine the stern look of disapproval on my parents' face if I had purchased a full-price, full-fat book of cakes, cookies, and other confections, so this one, with the blazing "Bargain Books" sticker, "healthy" keyword, and oat-studded loaf on the cover was a safer bet.
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After successfully trying out a few quick breads, the next logical step was a real bread. A bread leavened with yeast. Being so diligent about following directions, I probably did everything as instructed by the recipe, however, when it came time for the honey oat dough to rise, it just didn't. All afternoon, the loosely formed dough just stayed the same shape, same volume. I knew my house was cold, but really?! No rise, whatsoever?? I finally decided to turn on the heater and set it in front of the vent. At that point, it may have risen a tiny bit and perhaps a skin had formed and hardened from the heat. Still, I persevered and decided to take a chance and send it to the oven. I was really hoping to peek into the oven halfway through its baking time and see the loaf loftily rising over the edge of the pan, but no such luck, and by the time the recipe suggested to take the loaf from the oven, it was still the same sad, oblong shape. Of course I had to taste the thing, and it wasn't half bad! Unfortunately, it was also hard as a rock.
There was another unsuccessful attempt with pizza dough a couple years ago (pita bread ended up being the vehicle for squash blossoms and asiago), but last year, my failures still vivid in my mind but somehow not affecting my resolve, I make a leap with challah bread. This time I made use of the space heater in my room (it being the smallest confined space in the fourplex, thus keeping in the warm air), propped my bowl of dough off the ground, and just waited. The challah turned out beautifully. It was magic.

That experience spawned subsequent tries at bread loafs, buns, and croissants, all of which employed the bringing-the-dough-into-the-bedroom technique and all of which were successful. This time of year, however -= when my butter needs only sit on the counter for half an hour to soften instead of the usual 3 hours -- the dough has been a-rising without an additional artificial push, so this week's Tuesday's With Dorie selection of Raisin Swirl Bread by Susan of Food. Baby. was a very welcome choice. Unfortunately, I actually let the dough rise for too long as I was waiting for other baked goods to finish in the oven, and it was gaining much more height than desired. Still I threw it in the oven, just happy it wasn't a leaden mess, but it did grow bigger than its britches and emerged with tumors and keloids and a nice tan. Though not the most photogenic loaf, it had fluffy and pillowy innards, a firm crust, and was perfumed by freshly grated nutmeg. I neglected to add the raisins before I rolled up the dough, so it became cinnamon swirl bread with a very mild sweetness. Next time I'll probably increase the cinnamon, but it was perfect in taste and texture in every other way. Eaten straight from the loaf, it's the kind of bread that you could eat 3/4 of before realizing what you've done. Toasted and buttered with a cup of tea, you're thankful for life's simple pleasures.

The taste of early summer.

2010-06-08T23:30:00.000-07:00

There may not be a more perfect dessert for this time of year than the tender shortcakes, chosen by Cathleen of The Tortefeasor for this week's Tuesday's With Dorie pick. The farmer's market is overflowing with every berry you can think of (and some you had no idea about -- tayberries?! what are those??) and the scone-like texture of these buttery shortcakes could not be a more perfect base for sweet and succulent berries topped with a dollop (or huge cloud) of fresh whipped cream.
The shortcakes are much like cream biscuits with a slightly craggy, crisp crust, and dense crumb -- tender would actually be the most apt adjective for them -- and come together so quickly. It's a brilliant dinner party dessert because the dough (which is already tossed together in minutes) can be made ahead of time and frozen, then popped straight into the oven. The oven is turned up pretty high, but the shortcakes don't actually bake that long so your guests won't be sweltering in the kitchen. Assembly is a breeze and voila! You're ready to thoroughly please a room full of people.

The biscuit can be the backdrop for so many other flavors and I intend on testing many (ginger, cinnamon, cardamom, lime zest, orange) and changing up the fruit filling appropriately. i have no doubt that this recipe will not just be filed away in my arsenal, but will show up in the recipe boxes of my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. That could be the greatest compliment there is.

A new zest.

2010-03-30T20:26:00.000-07:00

Ever since we moved offices nearly a year ago, a world of eating options was opened up to my office mates and me. Now I'm a pretty religious brown-bagger, but having a selection of midday snacks available to me instead of solely the Fred Segal cafe (no joke), is a welcome luxury. We have one of the better gas station mini-marts as a neighbor, solid breads and viennoiserie across the street, and chocolate covered raisins by weight around the way. Our favorite mid-afternoon snack, however, is the controversial fruit cart, and there are quite a few to be found within a two block radius. I looked at their rainbow umbrella shaded carts with suspicion for some time, but after awhile, the chili powder, salt, and lime juice laced fruit was something that piqued my interest. My coworkers were already major converts, so by the time I had tried my first sliver of coconut, a little sour, a little spicy, I was very late to the party. I normally eschew the customary melons and cucumber, so my preferred fruit vendor, Eduardo, fills the bag up with mango, pineapple, and my beloved coconut. When he opens up a fresh coconut for me, he usually offers me the coconut water in a little baggie for later too. We've even started an informal baked goods for fruit exchange between the two of us -- a swap I'm more than happy to take part in despite the cautionary tales of pesticide use (I give him far more cookies and slices of cake than I take fruit).

So, it was with great pleasure that I participated in this week's Tuesday's with Dorie selection by Carmen of Carmen Cooks -- Coconut Tea Cake. The lime was an addition that I didn't think twice about. The two flavors just go together perfectly and reminded me that I still need to try my hand at the coconut-lime cookies that my cousin hauled across the country from CookieBar.

I normally rub lemon zest in my sugar, but it was a nice change to see the brilliant green of Persian limes dotting the white landscape of the sugar bowl, and embedded in the golden crumbs. The flavor of the finished cake was reminiscent of all things summer, naturally, but was smooth and subtle. It was unmistakably a coconut-lime cake, but nothing about it was cloying or tart. And, appropriately enough, it paired beautifully with tea. Though the recipe only called for half a stick of butter for the entire Bundt cake, the cup of coconut milk (and I used light coconut milk) added some fat so, although the cake wasn't nearly as moist as other Bundt cakes, it was just moist enough and held a tight crumb.

The foundation of this cake really is so versatile and it may become a new canvas for me to play with. Lime has proven itself to be fantastic -- so chili powder and salt, anyone??

A (slightly) tart tart.

2010-03-16T07:43:00.000-07:00

I was never a Mathlete. I don't work out algorithms in my spare time. I did just fine in geometry sophomore year of high school, but it was not at all a favorite class of mine. And yet, I look forward to Pi Day every year. That isn't to say that I have a history of celebrating 3.14. In fact, with St. Patrick's Day so close to Pi Day and my love for Irish Soda Bread running deep (the American style -- sweet, raisin studded, and caraway seed flecked), I feel like the date always sneaks up on me, but I always at least think about it. Luckily, Rachelle from Mommy? I'm Hungry! chose the Soft Chocolate and Raspberry Tart for this week's Tuesday's With Dorie selection. Now, I know a tart isn't exactly a pie, but a smooth filling, sometimes with embedded fruit, cradled in a buttery crust -- sounds like kin to me!

I find rolling out pie dough to be therapeutic. Using just enough elbow grease to coax a solid mass into a delicate round is deeply satisfying, and when it eases right into the pie plate, I feel like it's draping a child in a warm blanket.

This tart dough is not at all like that.

It comes together so easily, though, and was absolutely perfect for my schedule this week. The Cuisinart brought it together so quickly, and then pressing the curds into the tart pan was a breeze. Off it went into the freezer, and when it came time to bake the crust, I didn't even have to get out the pie weights to keep it from shrinking. The flaky crust is the highlight of pie for me, but combined with almond meal, this particular tart crust was something to look forward to as well.

The chocolate ganache filling was actually the most frustrating part of the assembling, at no fault of the recipe. It calls for bittersweet chocolate as well as milk chocolate, and as I almost always bake with bittersweet and semi-sweet, I only had Guittard milk chocolate chips on hand. No matter that it's in chip form, right? No. So, so wrong.

There are melting directions right on the packaging of the chips, but after heating the chocolates over a double boiler on the stove, the bittersweet chocolate melted into ribbons, but there were still clumps of chips that refused to ooze into submission. It was the strangest thing. And then I just gave up and stuck the chocolate into the microwave for 35 seconds. Nope. Still the same clumpage. I added another 20 seconds and then it was burnt. Whoops. On the second attempt I decided to forego the milk chocolate and went back to my trusty semi-sweet Callebaut. The ganache came together so easily this time, of course, and off into the oven it went. I did have to add about 10 minutes to the recommended baking time, however.

Once slightly cooled, the tart sliced up beautifully. I was afraid that as a "soft" tart, once sliced the filling would just seep out into the pan, but it held its shape and exposed lovely nubs of mildly tart fresh raspberries (it is only March, even if this is Los Angeles). The tart is really like a flourless chocolate cake sitting in a slightly nutty crust, and who can deny the luxuriousness of smooth chocolate and cream against the tongue??

Raspberry and chocolate isn't my favorite flavor combination, but plenty of people seem to love it and that's just wonderful. Pi Day was a success, and what good is baking, if not for the enjoyment of others?

A pleasant surprise.

2010-02-23T08:16:00.000-08:00

Once again, I love being apart of the Tuesdays With Dorie baking group because I'm forced - nay, politely encouraged by a set of very, very reasonable stipulations - to try recipes I wouldn't normally consider. Honey Wheat Cookies. The name alone doesn't illicit any excitement from me and I've overlooked this page every time I've ever thumbed through the book, but this week, Michelle of Flourchild had the pick of the litter, and as I haven't been able to participate in TWD as often as I would have liked earlier in the month, the honey wheat cookies would have to be baked.

Still unenthused by this week's assignment, I went out to get myself some wheat germ. I had my choice of raw or toasted wheat germ, but after deliberating about the prices and differences in taste, I went with the raw wheat germ. For an ingredient I figured I would rarely use, I decided it made more sense just to go with the cheaper option!

The dough, though easy to throw together, seemed too soft before being sent to the fridge to chill, but it ended up being fine to work with when rolling into balls before their coating of wheat germ. I tried to stick to the 10-12 minute baking window, but the cookies seemed far too soft and I ended up baking them for closer to 18 minutes, or until they were a deep golden color. I let them set up on the baking sheet for several minutes as they appeared to be too soft to transfer after just one or two, but the timing still yielded a soft, chewy cookie as intended.

The honey was a very apparent flavor, but the wheat germ added an aroma that neither I nor my friends could identify. It reminded us all of something, but we couldn't exactly place it. And with its light flavor, soft texture, and diminutive size, one cookie quickly became five, especially among my coworkers. It's definitely the kind of cookie that you have and think, "Well, that was alright..." but before you know it, you've polished off ten. Clearly, it was much better than "alright".

My fridge is happily stocked with wheat germ now, and I have every intention of using it regularly. It can be familiar bedfellows with the flax seeds, oat bran, and amaranth I've been incorporating regularly into my baking, yielding breadstuffs with allure I would have never imagined. It feels so good to be wrong.

A formidable opponent.

2010-02-16T20:56:00.000-08:00

Last week, the public had the rare opportunity of purchasing and enjoying Dorie Greenspan's own baked goods at a pop-up cookie boutique, CookieBar, temporarily opened by Dorie and her son, Josh, at an Upper East Side hair salon. As a Tuesday's With Dorie baker, as soon as I heard this news, I was already plotting ways I'd be able to get a hold of these cookies. Week after week (and in between too), our kitchens turn out cookies, cakes, and pies that were a product of her vision, not sure if they were accurately executed or not -- an opportunity to try these recipes as they were meant to be tasted was not to be missed and I wasn't about to let a span of 3,000 miles stand in my way. Luckily, Cousin Albert decided he'd be coming back out West for Chinese New Year and I easily convinced him to leave his East Village bubble to procure some of Dorie's cookies for me (after all, we are a family of food lovers). After reports via Twitter of selling out of the cookies on days one and two, Albert was able to get uptown early enough (and on a blizzardy day enough) to secure the full assortment of the cookie shop's offerings for the end of our Lunar New Year meal.

It just so happened that Kaitlin of Kait's Plate chose Dorie's Best Chocolate Chip Cookie for this week's assignment, which was among the selections that Albert hauled across the country. It was all working out to be the perfect opportunity to see if my interpretations of her recipes bore any resemblance to the real thing.

...and they did!! Visually, they were definitely kin. Dark edges, paler center, mottled with tiny bittersweet chocolate specks in addition to larger chunks. They were an absolute hit at work and though I've relied on the now infamous NY Times chocolate chip cookie for some time now, I think there's room for more than one on my go-to pedestal. In all honestly, I actually preferred my cookies to the CookieBar chocolate chip cookie, but it wasn't really a fair fight. There's something about three-day old cookies that can't quite measure up to the crisp exterior, yielding center, and buttery goodness of nearly fresh cookies -- imagine that! I did also have the sables and coconut lime cookies though, which were so good that I am now going to have to replicate them this weekend. Dorie and son are actually looking for a permanent space in Manhattan, and when it does, I'll be back for My Best Chocolate Chip Cookies vs. My Best Chocolate Chip cookies, round 2!

Get thee here. Now.

2010-02-03T21:37:00.000-08:00

The intersection at Robertson and Beverly in West Hollywood is one I try to avoid at all costs during the work day, especially the unprotected left turning south on Robertson -- you'll be there for days during rush hour! After the sun sets, however, the cross street is a different creature. The writers at the Coffee Bean move on to a bar, the furniture showrooms close up for the day, women haul the spoils of their successful shopping day back home and the area becomes a shadow if its daytime self. And on the southwest corner of Robertson, just north of Beverly a pristine, glowing treasure sits -- and it is a treasure, with it's skillfully prepared dishes, affable service, and not-quite-discovered location. Like with your favorite band, you talk it up to everyone you meet who will listen, but don't want to them to "sell-out" with their new found fame either, only I want that for Petrossian and its chef, French-born Ben Bailly of Joël Robuchon culinary lineage because it's just too good to be kept a secret.

My first experience with Petrossian -- and possibly my introduction into the world of caviar -- was at their New York outpost maybe five years ago. The dining room was nearly empty but we still had a wonderful time gingerly scooping beluga caviar using mother-of-pearl spoons onto blinis decorated with all the accoutrements, accompanied by champagne and vodka. It was a divine afternoon of which I did not have to foot the bill because I probably wouldn't have had the fortune to enjoy it otherwise. That level of indulgence was what I associated the Petrossian Boutique & Cafe in West Hollywood with -- and they do offer the same fantastic caviar -- but, until I saw Jo's amazing food porn at MyLastBite, I hadn't realized it was so much more accessible. Though it is included on the menu and in various dishes, caviar neophytes need not be deterred. There are plenty of other caviar-less options, but it's quite possible that after a bite of the hand-cut steak tartare, cut through with a layer of caviar, you will be a convert.

So on a brisk January evening, my group of girls coordinated with my sister's visit for my first Petrossian WeHo experience (the rest of my family had already come for brunch the month before). We started off with the smoked salmon rillette on toast that reminded us something our friend Susan would serve in her home, and that is a fantastic compliment. It had a delicate flavor, especially for salmon, and it felt familiar and intimate, inviting us back for more with each bite. It was followed by the foie gras salad, which I would probably never be compelled to order, but the photos and positive response to the dish nudged me in the right direction so we gave it a shot, and I'm so glad we did. The chopped green beans mixed with toasted walnut and black truffle vinaigrette complimented the smooth, rich foie gras terrine perfectly. We dug into the dish for more, but it wasn't for just the terrine or just the green beans -- it was for the composed bite because the salad, shot through with a hint of acid, was such a well-suited balance to the creamy foie gras.

Another favorite of ours was the black truffle mac 'n cheese. A seemingly simple dish to make, I've had a couple that are gummy, congealed, or completely overpowered by competing flavors, and this was none of those things. Orrecchiete is a favorite pasta variety of mine for its chewy texture and it didn't fail me this time either as its crevices cradled the bacon studded sauce with each "little ear". Shaved truffles are a welcome addition to any dish and you will never find me declining some, but the sauce was so rich and aromatic that had they not been there, I wouldn't have been the least bit disappointed.

I am still dreaming about the steak frites that we had nearly three weeks ago. The frites were my kind of thickness with a wonderfully crisp shell and still meaty interior. What started out as a sample of the dish because I was already so full became a gorge on fries and meat, generously swathed in the peppercorn sauce before reaching my mouth. I have been a big fan of the steak frites at Church & State downtown, and their béarnaise was my favorite for a good part of last year, but suddenly, the sauce accompanying the steak, sweet with balsamic vinegar and shallot confit, has shot to the top and I don't know what can compete. I'm not even a condiment girl when it comes to fries (there's just no need for ketchup!), but the frites just about became a vehicle for more sauce.

Of course we were beyond full, but being the gluttons that we are, we still ordered a trio of desserts for the table -- the vanilla panna cotta with white peach espuma, Sicilian pistachio crème brulée, and chocolate moelleux (a chocolate muffin-like-cake with a liquid center. By the generosity of Chef Ben Bailly, those three desserts became five and we all shifted our eyes at each when they arrived at the table, in disbelief that we could finish it all, but good call, Chef -- we demolished them all. I have an affinity for all things pistachio so the crème brulée with a caramelized top of the perfect thickness I could not get enough of, but the panna cotta was so smooth and had such a silken texture that I must have had the one closest to me all by myself.

To be surrounded by the company I was with is always pleasure enough, but bite after bite sent us into gastronomic bliss. I haven't even mentioned that we had a no-pork-fish-foie-gras-or-miscellaneous-animal-parts eater as well as a friend with a seafood allergy and we were all sublimely contented. We didn't even scratched the surface of the menu -- the short rib raviolo, foie gras crème brulée, and seared duck breast await, though I don't know how we'll get past the foie gras salad, Napoleon tartare, or steak frites, but I reluctantly hope to see the rest of city's food lovers there the next time, and the next, and the next.

2009 without a whisk, part II

2010-01-28T22:10:00.000-08:00

Church&State - Los Angeles

Approaching this modern French bistro deep in Downtown Los Angeles, I felt like I was discovering a diamond in the rough. I had parked right at that corner 4 years prior, and at that time, it was absolutely a safety concern for a young girl by herself in the darkness of night, purse clutched and discreetly looking left, right, behind, and repeat. This time, I hardly recognized the intersection of Industrial and Mateo with the strung bulbs at Church & State illuminating it like a beacon and drawing me in like a moth to a flame.

I was meeting my sister again (funny how she shows up at so many memorable meals, isn't it?) who had just been picked from LAX by our friend, James, and our most avid dining partner-in-crime, Christina. It had been a week of instant messaging exchanges deliberating the menu and linking to food porn shots from various bloggers' visits, oohing, ahhing, and ogling until, finally, it was our time.

We wasted no time ordering up a storm and soon the bone marrow, salt cod fritters, French onion soup, and escargot crowded the table, followed by the hamachi, duck confit, steak frites, braised short rib, and Epoisse mac 'n cheese. Among my favorites were the bread pork trotter fritter on vinegary lentils with frisée and a poached egg, and the pig's ears. I could eat anything dipped in their Béarnaise, but the oreilles were particularly comforting -- like fries with the condiment of my dreams. Pigs' ears prepared in the Taiwanese way have never appealed to me, but I think about them deep fried and dipped in Béarnaise weekly.

The succulent escargot were baked individually with puff pastry hats, so buttery that I can't imagine having more than one, but what a good one it was!

The tarte flambée was another favorite and though a somewhat different breed than pizza, I would probably routinely choose the union of the sweet caramelized onion, savory lardons, Gruyère, and flatbread over its Italian brethren.

We savored dish after dish of well-executed French classics (along with some inspired creations) and lingered over the modern soundtrack and snapshot-of-Paris ambiance, mostly because we were too full to move. We were envious no more.

Egg - Brooklyn

Brunch is arguably my favorite meal of the day. I mean, I love them all, but there's something about getting together with people in the daytime, sometimes over mimosas or Bloody Marys, and sharing plates of eggs, pancakes, or salty pork products that brings a smile to my face and a glimmer to my eye. After over an hour long wait on a particularly warm April day, we were finally seated on the small patio out front at Egg. Naturally, we had been analyzing the menu during our entire wait and I immediately ordered the biscuit with Colonel Bill Newsom's ham, fig jam and Grafton cheddar along with Anson mills grits and an additional side of fennel sausage. The cheddar and lardons grits at Square One in Los Angeles were my introduction to how sinfully delicious doctored up grits could be, and Anson Mills at Egg cemented how simply delicious unadorned grits are. Ana and Lynn, both ex-Angelenos that had moved eastward ordered Eggs Rothko with bacon and candied bacon, respectively, to round out or four food groups of swine and an ideal brunch was born. My dish wasn't quite as fulfilling during my second trip out to New York in November and the wait was horrendous [they're sticklers about having the entire party present before seating (even if you're just walking up the street) and won't hesitate to skip your party over, so remember to stay put], but the food was so soul satisfying in April that I am more than wiling to give it a third, fourth, and fifth attempt at redeeming itself. It was just that good.

Piccolo - Venice, CA

Over the year, Piccolo has become the neighborhood restaurant that is neither in my neighborhood, nor in my budget to make a regular indulgence, but as soon as I step inside, I feel like I'm coming home. The establishment (pre-expansion) is small enough that the heads of the entire staff turn whenever someone walks in door. Pietro, the sommelier, is usually the first to greet me due to his proximity to the door, followed by a warm exchange with Vittorio, the owner, and finally, cheek kisses with Roberto in the kitchen.

My eldest sister, Kat, visited right before her birthday this year and because it has such a lovely setting for a party of two, I decided to take her to Piccolo, where everyone knows your name (after a few visits). I couldn't help but feel like I was living within a vignette of Italy when presented with a plate of seared scallops sitting atop parmesan fondue or one of their reliably satisfying fish specials.

We had a fantastic time on this summer's evening and didn't have a care in the world in those couple of hours, having rich risotto for one course, and a light tortelli in broth for another. Truffles adorn many dishes here and though I wasn't allowed to touch them during my first visit of the year, at this meal I was given the privilege of shaving my own atop my risotto -- and you can believe I took advantage of this opportunity. The monkfish over black rice was a perfect secondi and so good as a break between the creamy risotto and dessert, and then they were even kind enough to plate the pistachio-lemon curd cake that I had made for my sister and again top off our glasses with prosecco. The meal began with one of my favorite dishes and ended with something I created out of love just for that occasion which would have made the meal enjoyable enough, but the warmth of the staff made our night feel like a catch-up session with old friends. It doesn't even feel right to describe their manner and interaction as "service".

L'as du Fallafel - Paris

I had bookmarked this place long before I had actually booked a ticket to Paris after reading about it from David Lebovitz and Dorie Greenspan. How could so many people be wrong? Lenny Kravitz loves it! My first experience with falafel was not too long ago and probably mediocre, but I really liked it and though I still have never tried Arax in Los Angeles, visiting L'as du Fallafel was an absolute necessity. There would be enough sit-down meals on this trip, and flavorful ethnic food for cheap was right up my alley. By my luck, I had happened upon the storefront in my first 2 hours in Paris, it being right down the street from the apartment I was staying at in Le Marais. I decided to wait until my travel companions flew in before I joined the crowds in line for perfectly fried balls of chickpeas not knowing that Liberty doesn't like falafel, but at first bite, she was converted. "Okay, maybe I do."

We joined the rest of the crowd on the cobblestone lane not waiting a minute to dig into our piccante falafel and shawarma with cabbage, eggplant, and tzatziki. It wasn't the cleanest snack that we shamelessly passed around with sauce dripping down our fingers , but we knew we'd be back before we left Paris -- and we were.

Elite - Monterey Park

Right next to Yi Mei on the same stretch of Atlantic Boulevard is Elite Restaurant. I had gone for dim sum a few years ago and was quite pleased with the quality of their check-to-order dim sum, but it wasn't until a few months ago that I returned (although there seemed to be far more servers peddling their dishes from trays than before). The zha liang - rice noodle wrapped around a Chinese doughnut and drizzled with soy sauce and sesame seeds - was so fresh that the doughnut was still crispy at first bite, a rarity when it comes to this seldom seen dish. The doughnut was also filled with shrimp cake, which I had never encountered but made for the most delicious iteration I've ever had. Their pu shi dan ta - egg custard baked in a flaky, buttery, tart shell with a burnished, caramelized top - was also among the best I've had stateside. Normally I'm not a fan of the Macau-style tarts as they typically come with shortcrust pastry, but this two-bite wonder, the custard still warm and coconut scented, contained within a crust so flaky -- I forgot it was Macau-style at all. It had all the merits of a Portuguese nata with its brulee'd top and deep, yolky color, cradled in the crust I love most.

A couple weeks later when my sisters, Katherine and Jessica, were in town, I decided I had to drag them here to at least try these two dishes. We started the morning off volunteering at the Los Angeles Regional Food Bank and were famished by the time we sorted the last kiwi. After a satisfying meal at Mo-chica at Mercado la Paloma, I made the executive decision to detour to Monterey Park so as to pick up Cousin Alb's "many" flank steak shao bing, and to have them try the two dim sum dishes I had relished so much.

Having had a full lunch already and with a crowd still waiting for tables outside Elite, we ordered the zha liang and dan ta for takeout and as soon as it was ready, we laid claim to a couple spots on the bench outside, tore open the plastic bag and dug into the goods. This really isn't a sight you see too often -- at least not for dim sum. You either enjoy the food at your table, or maybe bring it home, although I think that's pretty unusual as well. The elders were probably frowning upon our devouring of the vittles like heathens, but I have to believe we sold a few orders of each dish to the parties still waiting for tables to open up with the enthusiasm with which we consumed the greasy goodness. People would only come to dim sum and order takeout, digging into it right then and there if it were fantastic -- and it was. We made friends on their own food marathon between mouthfuls, so in these mere fifteen minutes, it became clear that food absolutely unites us all.

LudoBites - Los Angeles

My office moved from Melrose to West Third Street in April and upon hearing the news that LudoBites would be setting up shop across the street at Breadbar for their second incarnation and having missed a meal at the original, I resolved I would be having at least three meals there during their stay. It wasn't really an active goal to achieve -- more like a passing thought in the excitement of knowing some amazing dishes would be turned out nightly just across the way and only for a limited time -- but by the end of their engagement, that forecast had been realized. With an ever-changing menu posted daily on their website, it only took a skim of the new offerings for insane people like myself to decide, "Yeah, okay. Why not?!" I had no intention of missing out any work of true genius.

Seared duck breast with carrot cake coulis? You had me at carrot cake.

Foie gras croque monsieur on squid ink bread? I'll be there.

Chocolate cupcake with foie gras chantilly and candied bacon-almonds? I'll have two. (And I did over the course of a few visits.)
And so it happened again this past December. LudoBites re-emerged at Royal/T, a Japanese cosplay gallery and cafe in Culver City, and again, all rational thought went out the window as I paid them a few visits. With the Twitterverse up in arms over how transcendental the new version of the fried chicken was, how could I not go back having missed it on my previous visit??

LudoBites (being the blood, sweat, and tears of Chef Ludovic Lefebvre and his gracious wife, Krissy) was responsible for countless moments of bliss for me this year, and it was the product of all the elements that, for me, make up an evening for the books. At the first taste of the chorizo-cantaloupe soup with cornichon granita on my inaugural visit, I was hooked. From a blank face, not knowing what to expect, I felt the corners of my mouth slowly upturn into a smile in disbelief of how well its individual components worked together, but completely sated by the result. It's what whimsical food does - peaks curiosity, encourages risk, boggles the mind - and when it works, you feel like you did when you realized that you do like sushi -- a lot!!

The caliber of the food has been well-documented on the internet, and I probably can't dissect any dish more than what's already been said, but it's the entire experience of LudoBites that has resonated with me enough to return more times than would be normal. Sitting on the patio of Breadbar on a mild August evening, three and a half hours passed in the blink of an eye savoring veal tartare, cantal polenta with oxtail and truffle, and crème fraîche panna cotta between sips of wine, fits of laughter, and then maybe another order of pork belly??

There were bloggers aplenty running around between table and chef, the air electrified, it being the last night of 2.0. Conversation flowed among my dining companions (some of my best friends) as well as with neighboring tables and before I knew it, it was midnight. I don't know if it was the inspired food, the outdoor setting, the effortlessly warm service, the charmingly French chef, or a combination thereof, but as I've described to friends before, it was as if time stood still. After the meal, it was back to reality -- only now with the recollection of an incomparably good time.

And there we have it, my most beloved meals of 2009. Perhaps I romanticize an experience more often than I should, but I can't and don't want to help it. The light gleams through a window just so, or I hear a crescendo in a Radiohead song just as the waitstaff comes purposefully toward our table with our entrees, and in that moment I am utterly contented. And to be completely content in any moment -- well, I think I'll just collect as many of those as I can, and know that 2010 offers many, many more.

2009 without a whisk, part I

2010-01-21T20:47:00.000-08:00

2009 has been an epic dining year, and I have the additional pounds on the scale to prove it. As much as I try to balance decadent meals out with lentil soups and raw kale salads (that I actually love, I do!), the food I've enjoyed this year has emerged the victor, but starting the year off in Asia, and with Europe and a few trips to San Francisco in the mix, the damage was inevitable - and pretty worth it.

I've been a lucky girl to have had so many pleasurable bites that I can't even recount them all, but the meals in which the stars and the moon and the planets aligned to create an all-around amazing dining experience are the ones that I will remember for years to come. Whether they've been savored at white tablecloth establishments or standing in a doorway, with friends, family, or strangers, these outings share the common thread of having delicious food with great company in a lovely setting. In no particular order, my favorite dining experiences of the year...

Spring - Paris

I know it defies logic to go to a restaurant by an American chef in Paris for some, but after reading so many solid reviews and hearing about his weekend lobster roll and duck fat fries fry-ups, it became a spot I was willing to fend off traditionalists to try. And having scored a few seats in the dining room of 16, it just seemed like fate. We trekked up to the restaurant from the Poissoniere Metro stop with the rays of the setting sun creating a path to Spring's front window as if it were lighting the way to Mecca. Once seated, we were given a generous block of butter flecked with dark specks. As soon as we tasted the rich spread, further investigation was necessary and the chef revealed that it was in fact Bordier beurre aux algues which is more than he pays for his foie gras.

More diners filled the few tables while the kitchen staff calmly prepped just a glance away, and as the day turned into night, we were treated to potato dumplings with langoustine, chard, radish, in a bouillabaisse scented with cilantro, Thai basil, and kaffir lime. The dumplings were perfectly yielding and not at all gummy sitting alongside chunks of tender langoustine, but the star of the dish was the broth. Its flavors were rich and clean and then we realized there was something familiar about it -- like the phở of our youth that our dads would take us for in Oakland's Chinatown, only much more refined and no oil slick in sight. We were also given a suprême de pintade(guinea fowl)on carrot-ginger purée with fresh almonds and arugula. It was our first experience with fresh almonds (though not our last on this trip) with a round flavor that went well with all the other components of the dish. One of our desserts was an olive oil ganache with Lucques olives (that are now, hands down, my favorite olives ever) and crunchy croccante pieces. I could have licked the plate clean of that ganache, but, being in Paris, I thought maybe I should employ some self-control.

The food was a fantastic start to the trip, but the company and setting made it all the more memorable. My sister, Katherine, and cousin, Liberty, joined me in this jaunt around Western Europe and they always bring a good time, without fail. Their plane had landed that morning and I had arrived two days earlier and hadn't felt the need to spoil myself with sit-down meals, so this was also my first Parisian meal. We were giddy with anticipation of the sights, sounds, and eats we'd encounter the next two weeks, and also completely content in these few hours, enjoying wine, butter, and the company of a few other American couples at our table. There was one pair from Chicago with a daughter actually attending the same high school that Chef Daniel Rose graduated from and also sharing mutual acquaintances with the chef, and they were a delight to share our well-worn communal table with. Talking about food and culture and travel with other food enthusiasts over deceptively simple dishes on a Parisian summer's night -- how could I not fall in love with this meal?

Le Chateaubriand - Paris

Another hard-to-book table that we miraculously scored in Paris was at Le Chateaubriand. We were famished from running around the City of Lights all day, but this meal was an opportunity that we weren't about to pass up. They switched out our server for an English-speaking one that was handsome, effortlessly charming, and had a way of speaking about the dishes that made us hang on every word. From my understanding, he was also a chef, but why he wasn't in the kitchen, I don't know -- too many cooks stirring the pot? Like Spring and many other restaurants in Paris, they offered a prix fixe menu, and it started with salted raw cod with fresh almonds, cucumber, and mint. The fish was a most appropriate start to the meal, as fresh as any I've ever had and paired with elements that only enhanced the flavor of the fish. It was completely refreshing, unlike anything you'd normally associate with French cuisine, but of course, this is Le Chateaubriand where traditional fare is taken apart and put back together in a way that you may not even recognize, but with eye-opening results.

The cod was followed by seared tuna with white lardo, pomme de terre, gingered onions, and dill and then rare veal with golden beets, red beet puree, turnips, purple basil, and spring onions. After our Spring and Le Chateaubriand meals, the unassuming spring onion, unadulterated save for a sprinkle sea salt and oil, became our vegetal obsession.

The atmosphere was distinctly French, with the vast majority of diners speaking the native tongue, but the cuisine was anything but. Combined with the most gracious of servers, it became the Parisian dining experience at which the bar is now set.

Comerç 24 - Barcelona

I realize this is another European meal, and maybe it has to do with the relaxation of being on vacation, seizing the opportunity to indulge in a city's best food, and the feeling of not having a care in the immediate future, but I assure you, we had bites that have no business being in this post, and other great meals will end up being excluded too. Not having the foresight to attempt a reservation at elBulli as soon as it was possible, we decided on a worthy substitute - Comerç 24 from Carles Abellan, formerly of elBulli.

We showed up a day early for our reservation unknowingly, but they were able to seat us in direct view of the kitchen anyway. It started with a tasting of olive oils, each more intense than the previous, followed by an eight course meal that was really more like twenty. We had monkfish with chinese garlic, sesame, and seaweed, the marinated sardines with wasabi root, toasted breadcrumbs and pistachios, spherical black truffle, parmesan, and quail egg in consomme, and the kinder egg (poached chicken egg with truffle and mashed potato) - all of which were outstanding.

The sirloin with strawberries, cherries, and sheep's milk cheese was fantastic, but the best dish of the night for me may have been the duck rice with foie gras ice cream and crushed, toasted corn. The rice, incredibly infused with the flavor of duck with a not-quite-risotto mouthfeel, combined with the rich foie gras cream to create a salty and smooth bite, and the toasted corn provided another welcome dimension to the dish. Olive oil continued to be a showstopper for dessert as chocolate ganache floated in a shallow pool of it alongside bread then dusted with sea salt.

With prime view of the kitchen at work, it felt like we were in dinner theater. Everyone was focused on the task at hand, furiously working, and completely in sync with each other, while we added all the commentary in the balcony. The dining room wasn't the warmest of environments, but nearly every dish was a gastronomical delight.

Fu Hang Dou Jiang Dian - Taipei

I frequently dream of Chinese breakfast fare, but rarely allow myself the have it. On the rare occasions that I throw caution to the wind, stateside (specifically in the greater Los Angeles area) Yi-Mei in Monterey Park is where it's at for Chinese crullers, egg and green onion omelettes wrapped in tortilla-like skins, and sliced beef with preserved vegetable filled shao bing (Cousin Alb even had me bring these when I visited New York last. How many? "Many."), but the first place my siblings and I go to eat after touching down on Taiwanese soil is Fu Hang Dou Jiang Dian (Fu Hang Soy Milk Shop). Hidden on the second floor of a dingy building that doesn't appear to have been renovated since World War II(except maybe for the addition of an elevator), this traditional Chinese breakfast spot is filled with students as well as long-time patrons itching to get their fix of naan-like shao bing.

Taipei-bound flights from the West Coast nearly always arrive at the crack of dawn so by the time we arrive within the city limits, our stomachs are screaming to be sated, and our dad is always willing to accompany us for breakfast. We grew up eating these flaky, baked, rectangular breads, filled with either sliced, marinated flank steak and cilantro, or the long doughnuts, but this place is one of the few shops that still make their bread the traditional way and you can watch the entire process perched on a luxurious plastic stool, elbows gingerly avoiding any sticky spots still remaining on the yellowing table. What makes their method so interesting is that they create an oven from an oil drum, much like an Indian tandoor, and reach in the barrel to stick wet pieces of sugar-sprinkled dough on the walls to bake. The dough crisps up on the exterior with a slight sweetness to the crust and has a tender, pillowy, green onion-flecked interior. Even without the convenience of being street-level like most other Chinese breakfast joints, motorists literally wheeling up to the storefront for their eats and revving off, this place has survived for decades. And they've not merely survived -- long lines still form in the morning hours.
My sisters got to Taipei a couple days before I did, so they had already had their customary Fu Hang Dou Jiang Dian visit before I arrived. It was just me and my dad on this trip, which reminded me of mornings growing up in the Bay Area when I would be the only other person awake early enough to keep him company on shopping trips to Oakland's Chinatown for our family's restaurant.

These days, our parents reside in Taipei with long visits back to the Bay Area every now and again. Quality time spent one-on-one with my dad is a rare event, but splitting a steaming bowl of savory soy milk, slightly curdled from vinegar, well-done doughnut bits bobbing on the surface among globules of orange tinged chili oil and of course the Chinese crullers embraced by their thick, signature shao bing, I almost thought I was fourteen again.

Borough Market - London

Doing the necessary dining research for London, it became clear that we would have to pay a visit to Borough Market for its food stalls. I love California farmers' markets more for its bounty of fresh produce than the omelettes, tamales, and vegan Korean banchan stalls, but with this marketplace just past the south bank of the Thames, its food offerings were not to be missed. It started off innocently enough with raclette from Kappacasein - oozy raclette cheese scraped over boiled potatoes, baby gherkins, and onions. I specifically sought this plate out after only learning about it from my Borough Market investigation, and with the crowd around the stall as well as the whiff of cheese I picked up, it wasn't too difficult to find. It looked like a mess on styrofoam, but the melted cheese and potatoes with the salty addition of gherkins created a snack we had to force ourselves to put down in order to save room for everything else the market had to offer. I picked up a twice-baked banana cake from Flour Power City Bakery before we made our way inside to navigate the maze of even more stalls.

The marketplace was brimming with patrons when we arrived as it was just about lunch hour and if I were to ever live and work in London, I'd want this adjacent to my workplace for lunch too. The options are countless and incredibly reasonable to boot. We picked up five sandwiches among the three of us - salt beef from De Gustibus (similar to what we know as corned beef in the states), a pork sausage with caramelized onions, a pork belly, and two others that I can't even remember anymore. They were all so affordable, so why not try them all?? We posted outside Monmouth Coffee which was another must-try and realized it was right around the corner from Neal's Yard Dairy. Taking a gander at the cheese selection was a given, but seeing that they made fresh Greek style yogurt -- I was as good as sold. It was thick, tangy, and made me wish I had a cow to milk every morning so I might be able to produce something even half as good.

So there we were on the corner with the spoils of our first round of the market, all of us juggling a sandwich or two in one hand and a container of yogurt or cup of coffee in the other, directly across from well-dressed businessmen drinking their pints outside of the pub. The bubbling, wide iron woks of Thai curry were intoxicating, but we were too full to order a bowl. Liberty would have to try it the next day and she proclaimed it perhaps the best she had ever had.
Even without the curry we looked like crazy gluttons, but, in that moment, the crisp London surrounding us, there was no where else I would have rather been.

Momofuku Ko - New York

I paid a visit to dear friends in New York City at the end of April and as soon as I booked the flight, I knew I would be up by 7am every morning starting a week before my trip so as to secure a reservation for David Chang's third Momofuku outpost. Diners sit at the L-shaped bar directly in front of the chefs much like at a sushi bar and watch them do their magic. Online reservations are the only way to ensure a seat and it's a race to click on the green check marks as soon as 10am Eastern time hits as they turn into red Xs within seconds. The first couple of days were a little shaky and the reservations eluded me, but at my third attempt, the gods were on my side and I had scored a late reservation for two.
It was a given that my cousin Albert would join me for dinner at Ko as a fellow food lover (who are we kidding?? - it's in our blood!) and New York resident. The meal was strong from start to finish with a melt-in-your-mouth biscuit with black pepper butter for an amuse bouche and funnel cake for dessert, with the signature frozen foie gras shaved over lychee as well as the soft poached egg with caviar filling out the menu.

The chefs prepare all the dishes before your eyes with a quiet calm that makes you nervous just to be sitting in front of them. They aren't the most engaging bunch, but neither are sushi chefs so maybe it's excusable. They're there to excite our taste buds and on this occasion, the food was flawless.
Being only 3 months my senior, Albert and I have literally grown up together. From third grade until high school, we were in all the same classes, then in college we not only shared classes, but became roommates as well. Six years later, his departure for law school in New York in the Summer of 2008 was surreal and I experienced an unsettling feeling that things would never be the same. It hasn't been a negative change -- we are, after all, adults and can't hang on to our security blankets forever, but now, it's always a relief to see him, and it was particularly special to share this highly anticipated meal at Ko, just he and I.

to be continued...

...by any other name...

2010-01-12T21:00:00.000-08:00

I am a faulted human being, but if nothing else, I try to be a woman of my word. Albeit, I have my slip-ups too, but more often than not, if I commit to something, I'll make it happen. Whether I'm having dinner with a friend but dead tired, or being dragged to an event that I have even less desire to attend than when I first reluctantly said I would, if I said, "Yes", you can trust that I'll come through.

Last week, when Teanna of Spork and Foon tweeted an apology to all the Tuesdays With Dorie bakers for this week's choice of Mrs. Vogel's Scherben, I immediately decided I would definitely participate and responded so. There it was. Written in stone.

And then I found out it required deep-frying.

My heart sank. I have avoided deep-frying for as long as I have been cooking. Even if the recipe sounds like heaven realized, I will mentally drool about it and then file it away until...never. That Ad Hoc fried chicken recipe that I've dreamed of having ever since I heard about their Fried Chicken Mondays nearly two years ago -- that will never be made. Taiwanese breakfast crullers that are a crazy weakness of mine -- I'll have to keep driving to the San Gabriel Valley for them, because they're sure as hell not going to be fried up in my home! I've imagined oil sputtering all over the place, getting multiple burns, and then having to dispose that glut of oil!! Not excited.

But, like I said, it was written in stone, so I sucked up all my qualms and started making the dough. The preparation is terribly simple and uses only one bowl!! (That little detail almost made up for the deep-frying.) This morning, I heated up the canola oil as instructed and dropped in the strips of dough. Amazingly, this recipe is not only simple to assemble, but cooks so quickly as well! The strips emerged in every which shape, but that was to be expected and soon, the job was done.

The scherben were a hit in the office, but it wasn't received as such. To my Guatemalan right-hand man, they were corbatas -- a taste of his youth and the reason behind a wistful, adolescent grin. To my Armenian co-worker who spent several years of her childhood in Italy, they were chiacchiere. It brought back memories of her mother in the kitchen, warm pastry puffs at the ready week after week. Though traditionally, both confections incorporate different ingredients in their composition than these scherben, the scherben were close enough to their recollections that making them was worth even oil-disposal inconvenience.

Aside from the frying smell permeating through the kitchen and living room and uncertainty in how I would get rid of the used oil, the process was incredibly painless. I can't believe I have avoided frying for so long! I'm not in any hurry to fire up another pot of canola oil, but suddenly, those recipes that I've filed away for "never" have been re-filed for "sometime".

Late for work.

2010-01-05T19:46:00.000-08:00

The first and only tarte tatin I've ever had was at Balthazar in New York City some 6 or so years ago. I had the same prejudice towards other apple desserts that I did with apple pie so tarte tatin had never drew me in. I'm sure it was a fine version of caramelized apples inverted over pastry and I probably really enjoyed it at the time, but it still has not become a dessert I clamor for or get tunnel-vision for on any dessert menu.

Despite my lack of fervor for this bistro favorite, I was pretty excited about Laurie's pick for the second anniversary of Tuesday's With Dorie. She is not only the author of slush, but also the founder and moderator of TWD -- a responsibility I cannot even imagine. I have a problem keeping up with even a handful of blogs on a daily basis, let alone those of hundreds of members! My enthusiasm for tarte tatin this week was due its no-fuss composition. It completely slipped my mind yesterday that Tuesday was just around the corner, and because I had fallen off in updating so much the past couple of months, I really wanted to start the month and year off right. I've always known that tarte tatin was a simple, throw-together confection (especially if you use store-bought puff pastry), so considering I had so little time today, Laurie's choice was perfect.

I woke up at 6:40 this morning and quickly decided that a trip to the gym and a tarte tatin would be made before I left for work. I realized I didn't have any puff pastry left either (I actually prefer pie crust and this one, especially), so I threw together the Good-For-Almost-Everything pie dough (sadly, with room temperature shortening and merely cold water, but I don't think too big a difference was felt), and off to the gym I went.

As soon as I returned, it was a furious peeling, coring, and quarter of the apples and then an impatient, foot-tapping wait while the apples caramelized. I was really worried about the sugar burning so I kept the heat a little lower, but probably slowed down the whole darkening process of the caramel. Finally, it was somewhat in the ballpark of amber and off into the oven it went with its pastry lid.
I waited as long as I possibly good for the crust to cook thorough and achieve a little browning, but I may have pulled it out too early. The tarte was inverted and a nice caramelization was revealed, though it could have been darker, and I immediately swept it off to work with me.

During the resting period, the apples softened the pastry slightly more than I would have preferred while the edges of the crust kept their structure. I was pleased with the first bite, though it would have benefited from greater textural contrast with a crispier crust, but everyone still loved the end result. You can't really deny apples slowly caramelized in butter and sugar on a bed of buttery pastry even if it is as little soft.

My photos seem to have gone missing from my hard drive, but it was a not bad looking specimen. Should they turn up, I'll post them at once, but until then, I've learned my lesson -- work can wait, get that crust browned!

(And they've been found!)

I love butter, part 1.

2009-12-08T23:09:00.000-08:00

I had ten pounds of butter in my refrigerator not too long ago -- let's say, three weeks ago. I now have my last pound of butter sitting on the counter "coming to room temperature", even though my kitchen is so cold that it will barely yield to a poke when I wake up in 7 hours. It's been cakes and pies and cookies and buttercreams since Halloween, and there's no sign of it letting up until after Christmas. And even for a few days after, I'm sure that, even despite my complete exhaustion from baking, I'll feel possessed to unload all combinations of fat-sugar-flour on my siblings because how often do I really see them, right?? And how often do I have a house of people at the ready to dig into whatever comes out of the oven? Not so often. I cherish these opportunities.

So I'll be back at the market soon, with five bricks of butter cradled in the crook of my left arm, and probably holding a quart of heavy cream in the other hand. I think about what other shoppers must think, watching me juggle a glut of fat down the aisles. I'd probably want to throw up at the sight of this as an outsider, but so go the holidays. This marathon baking impedes my life in every which way, but I wouldn't want it any different. This time of year demands baked goods and I am happy to provide even when I have to wake up at 5:30am for the fifth day in a row to do so.

Luckily this week's Tuesday's With Dorie selection by Bungalow Barbara of sables is not just a deliciously buttery cookie, but a perfect addition to my holiday cookie assortment as well. I only baked off a dozen of these (and probably coated it a little too generously with egg yolk) so the rest of them will make an appearance in a couple weeks.

As a shortbread-style cookie, the butter really shines so it is important to use good butter. When you take a bite, you'll notice it has the perfect amount of salt to enhance the flavor of the butter and a not-quite-crumbly, but not-quite-soft texture that make eating just one cookie a major test in self-control and leaps and bounds more appealing than those crunchy Danish butter cookies in the blue tins (which I actually love -- memories, you know). I painted a bit too much egg yolk around the perimenter and perhaps left them in the oven a hair too long, but they were still sublimely delicious and melted on the tongue.

A log and a half sit in my freezer, eagerly waiting to be baked off and soon, two more batches of this dough will join them. It's hard to resist getting up every five minutes to shave a sliver off the log, but if I can hold off and wait for the cookies to bake and cool, the payoff will be worth it for me as well as everyone else in my life.

Crust and plum.

2009-11-19T22:42:00.000-08:00

I've always been a fan of the rustic. Modern, streamlined homes -- I find them cold and uninviting. Ergonomic Aeron chair? How about a painstakingly crafted cherry wood mud bench?? I picture exchanging wedding vows (that may or may not ever be recited to anyone) on actual leaves outdoors in a grove of trees rather than on a paisley or cornucopia-patterned carpet in a stuffy hotel conference room (not that there's anything wrong with that). And as much as I appreciate new flavor combinations and techniques in food, the way to my heart is through long braises, Old World comfort food, east and west, and handmade "imperfections". I will devour a 7 course tasting menu with all manners of French flavors and techniques, proclaim dish after dish as inspired, unquestionably pleasing, and maybe even the most delicious thing I have ever put in my mouth, but in the end, I will want anise-scented beef noodle soup in a stained plastic bowl, a craggy currant scone, or mushroom/pork soondubu over mixed rice with adzuki beans.

When I first came across Molly Wizenberg's plum crumble in late September on her blog, Orangette, there was no doubt I'd be trying this dessert out. The beautifully golden, nubby topping with the fruit juices oozing out from the sides called my name in its unevenly browned and family-style dessert splendor. Soon, I was hunting for the Italian prune plums that she touted so highly. As luck would have it, a week later at Gigi's Farmers' Market, located in the Americana at Brand in Glendale, I came across a basket of these plums from Ha's Apple Farm and nearly jumped out of my skin. My market-frequenting self had never noticed these prune plums before and had pretty much dismissed them as a variety that was nearly mythical in Southern California (much like sour cherries for making brandied cherries) but there they were, in the flesh, at such a newly established farmers' market! (I have since found these plums, as well as the French prune plums, at Ha's Apple Farm stalls at the Silver Lake, Hollywood, and Third Street Promenade Saturday markets.)

The recipe is ridiculously simple, and its appearance may convince you of that, but the end taste would not lead you to believe so. The fruit becomes so soft and yielding, ever so lightly sweetened with brown sugar, and given a gentle zing with both ground ginger and candied ginger. The real star of the show, however, is the crust. Fruit lovers may disagree because the plums shine too, but the crisp shell is buttery, crunchy, juice-softened, and plum-scented all at once. I've intended to make this with any variety of fruit, but with the Italian and French prune plums still readily available, I haven't yet been able to bring myself to stray. Many friends have had the chance to sample the crumble now, and even during a week when my kitchen was churning out a whole slew of desserts, this dessert has come out on top.

Creme fraiche isn't at all necessary as the crumble is so lovely in its unadulterated state, but with a dollop of tangy goodness, the dessert becomes a revelation.

All things fall.

2009-11-17T21:00:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is just about a week away and I'm only now remotely getting into the swing of things. I think it's this "amazing" Southern California weather that has been keeping the excitement of the holidays at bay -- I don't know how Floridians don't just skip Thanksgiving and Christmas altogether and go straight to Memorial Day. I'm personally not a fan of the eternal mild summer we've been having and am loooooonging for the brisk air of New York City that was biting at my cheeks two weeks ago.

Driving through the valley over the weekend, I actually had a vision of brown, red, and orange leaves, dancing in the wind along the street and was startled by the realization that the last quarter of the year has been passing far too quickly and I had better get in the mood before my favorite time of year speeds by and it's January - ugh. The worst!

It's been a crazy packed month so far (when has that not been the case in recent memory??), so I've only now gotten a chance to delve into this month's Tuesday's With Dorie assignments, but nothing else says "holiday" quite like pumpkin even if I don't think it should be strictly reserved for fall months, and neither does Libby's! Britin of The Nitty Britty chose Dorie's All-in-One holiday bundt cake this month, and it's just what I needed to cook up some nostalgia for last year's Thanksgiving, and look impossibly forward to this year's festivities.

Full of apples and pecan suspended in a burnt-orange crumb, every bite was full of the omnipresent fall spices of cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger (I decided to omit the cranberries). It was so moist and held together in such a way that I wasn't sure the cake was baked through, but it was indeed. Its loose crumbs were just masquerading as tight clumps. I find a lot of pumpkin loaves use oil as its fat, and unfortunately, you can usually taste that presence, however delicious the cake may be. This loaf had none of that staleness or mouthfeel. With the addition of apples to the pumpkin puree, there's no drying out this guy, even if it was in the oven for five minutes too long. In fact, I think the extended time allowed a nice crust to form, creating a lovely contrast between the tender interior.

There are some recipes that you turn to when you want to a recollect certain memories or feelings, and this is the perfect cake to remind you of all things fall. Thanksgiving dinner in 9 days -- I cannot contain myself!!

In crumb we trust

2009-10-13T23:02:00.000-07:00

Crumb muffins are hard to resist. Everyone loves the flour/brown sugar/butter combination, and it's difficult not to throw it on top of any baked good -- bread, seasonal fruit, coffee cake: it all works!

Kayte of Grandma's Kitchen Table chose this week's Tuesday's With Dorie assignment: Allspice Crumb Muffins. The batter was so easy and painless to make -- starting them post-morning-workout not only possible, but quite leisurely as well. Allspice was a unique touch to the muffins that isn't seen frequently. My car smelled like I had baked something savory!! The final product was a nice standard muffin with the kick of a bit of lemon zest and spicy fragrance, topped with the aforementioned delicious crumb topping. Although I won't bow to any altars of these muffins, it was satisfying with a cup of coffee and a cold, rainy morning.

Piece of my tart.

2009-09-29T21:00:00.000-07:00

The only tart I was familiar with growing up was the shortcrust pastry filled with vanilla custard and topped with out-of-season fruits lacquered by a saccharine sweet, congealed substance that is ubiquitous at all Chinese bakeries, but seen most often at Sheng Kee establishments (I am a Norcal girl, after all). It was never that good, but my relatives somehow saw this is as a light and delicious confection (those Asians can't stomach anything too rich) featuring fresh fruit (!!) so that, along with the Mango Mousse cake, made appearances frequently. This was my first experience with tarts, and I really saw no reason to revisit this dessert as I got older. Maybe that's partly because tarts, being the more sophisticated cousin of pie, were more common on menus at nicer restaurants and bakeries than the Applebee's and Chili's that littered our suburbs, but I would still probably pass up a crumbly shortbread crust in favor of a flaky pie crust any day.

Fast forward several years and I'm at Tartine Bakery in San Francisco. Their banana cream pie has a reputation that precedes it, but it's really a tart and not so much of a pie. It's delicious at any rate, and that was the day I decided, "Maybe tarts aren't so bad."

This week's Tuesdays With Dorie selection of the Chocolate-Crunched Caramel Tart by Carla of Chocolate Moosey was much like a Snickers bar in tart form, and who doesn't love a Snickers bar. The advantage of baking a tart is the ease with which one can press the crust into the pan. There's no rolling of dough or flouring of surface necessary -- just press it in and send it in to the freezer to firm up. I had never made caramel in a skillet before, but it was actually really simple and worked out well.

The ganache was the trickiest component of the tart because it was unexpectedly liquidy even though I measured out the heavy cream as instructed. I tried to thicken it by adding more melted chocolate, but was still worried about the consistency of it even after I put it in the fridge for 40 minutes. It all came together in the end, and didn't ooze too much when I cut into it. I didn't leave the tart out at room temperature as Dorie advised, for fear of the tart melting into a puddle, but all was as it should have been at first bite. Rich, decadent, salty, sweet -- everything I look for in a dessert. And everyone else loved it too.

Tart-love may never replace pie-love, but this high-low combination of Snickers filling + highfalutin tart crust puts up a strong fight.

So many choices!!

2009-09-15T21:24:00.000-07:00

I'm one of those people that given too many options, I can never make a decision. Particularly at a good brunch, bakery, or cocktail bar, mulling can take upwards of a very long while. It isn't such a good time for people I'm with, and I feel the pressure of their anticipation (which is usually self-imposed), so I end up making a sudden selection and prepare myself for the consequences.

Last week it was at Tavern where, naturally , I insisted to the waiter that the table was ready to order, but also asked him to come to me last. Frantically, my eyes scrolled down the menu once more. Brisket hash? Bananas Fosters pancakes? Chorizo and eggs? Monkey bread, or the selection of 3 pastries from the larder??? The night before, I was no doubt being pulled in a million directions at Copa d'Oro in Santa Monica. Do I go with my current favorite, the King de Bahia, in all its cachaca-elderflower-passionfruit-jalapeno glory, something aromatic like the Centro, or request something off the menu by their talented bar staff? Maybe this is a reflection of how I live life -- unable to make decisions about simply the little things, let alone the major matters, and it is an unfortunate condition indeed.

Luckily, this week's Tuesdays With Dorie recipe is endlessly adaptable. Julie of Someone's In The Kitchen selected Flaky Apple Turnovers, and of course I was tempted by all the late summer fruit at the Hollywood Farmers' Market and couldn't decide among classic apple, pear ginger, or peach ginger, so I ended up making all three kinds.

Though several members had trouble with their dough, I felt that the recipe really was quite manageable, and didn't give me any problems, save for the rather rapid softening of the dough because of the heat. I probably should have added more sugar to the fillings, and perhaps a little more fresh, minced ginger to the peach and pear varieties, but the final product was so delicious. I brought them to work, of course, and the scent of the little pockets reheating in the toaster oven drove my coworkers insane. Some people stood fast and refused any for the sake of their diets, but nearly everyone gave into at least half, with some reneging their request for half in favor of a whole after the first bite. The crust was really a vision of flakiness and such a sturdy yet tender vehicle for delicious summer fruit that I'm sure will become my new go-to turnover/pie crust/cornish pasty recipe.

It's difficult to pick a favorite, but maybe I'll say the pear as the spiciness of the ginger was most apparent. Or the peach with it's O'Henry sweetness. Or maybe just the apple because it reminds of the beautiful chaussons aux pommes in Paris?

Ah, I won't be changing anytime soon -- and with this recipe, I really won't have to.

The colors are a-changing!!

2009-09-06T21:40:00.000-07:00

Summer, as Angelenos know it, has only recently gotten under way. People all over the country may herald its arrival with their Memorial Day bar-b-ques and balmy nights, but our unbearable heat has only been consistent over the past couple of weeks, and is sure to surge at least twice more before Halloween. Oh, Indian summer, is our idea of the season, but this morning at the Hollywood Farmers' Market, I caught glimpses of what the rest of the country is likely experiencing -- oranges, yellows, dark greens, oh my!

As much as I love stone fruit, and squeal when the first cherries and apricots appear, I wait on the edge of my seat for fall. Signs announcing the last week for Flavor Kings or Flavor Grenades have been displayed at the stands lately, and at Top Notch Produce, mango-flavored nectarines and white peaches have been replaced by Asian pears and green grapes. Other stands that have been solely featuring samples of drupes are now offering Fuji and Gala apple chunks -- the avocado and cherimoya stand is even giving away free mini-apples to try. The boys at the stand where I get my favorite eggs (whose location I still won't reveal) have made it known that fall is really their season to shine as most stands sell similar fare to theirs during the summer months, so soon their tables will be overflowing with squash and lesser-known varieties of potatoes.

The reds, yellows, oranges, and sometimes purples of heirloom tomatoes have colored the market beautifully for a few weeks now, and today, I saw pumpkins at a couple stands. Maybe it was the relative emptiness of the pathways due to the Labor Day exodus, or the hazy glow that blanketed the skies from Station Fire overflow, but with the sighting of the pumpkins, tears nearly welled in my eyes and it really felt like fall was upon us. Sleepless nights and the futile search for the cold spot on a sweat-flecked pillow are still ahead for us, but at least we know where we can get a taste for turning leaves, billowy breezes, and crisp mornings. Apple pie will soon be made!!

Back in the swing of things.

2009-08-18T20:26:00.000-07:00

I've been so busy.

No, really. I know it seems like that's my most common declaration, but the past several weeks have been one event after another. Starting with July birthdays, there has been hardly a second to breathe. My sister's visit early on meant lots of goodies were to be baked, to throw her off to the fact that a good friend of her's was flying me up to be a part of her birthday festivities, and I would be bringing up treats then too, of course (the ruse was a triumph, by the way).

Subsequent weeks were filled with more baking (that I'll hopefully get to on here, though we all know how that goes), much needed visits from out-of-town friends, getting acquainted with new ones, and the beacon of my calendar since January: a trip to Paris, Barcelona, and London (that I'll hopefully touch on as well).

The hectic schedule hasn't quite died down, so it was a blessing that this week's Tuesday's With Dorie pick by Karen of Something Sweet was Applesauce Spice Bars. It isn't the most exciting recipe in the Greenspan tome, but it is reliably delicious and whips up with minimal effort and time. I was so pleased that no stand-mixer attachments had to be dug out, and I looked upon the 9x13 pain with relief this week, as opposed to the disdain I normally feel. The caramel glaze (though a lovely and necessary touch) was the most arduous part of the recipe, but that was not even so bad.

It wasn't a week for variation, so aside from omitting the raisins, the recipe was followed quite strictly -- and I did include some brandy as I had a tiny bit left from the two pounds of cherries I have soaking in the liqueur right now. It's hardly noticeable, but I think it adds a certain intoxicating aroma. The resulting cake is moist and simple, and though at first bite I thought, "That was good, but a taste is enough", I somehow found myself going back time after time for slivers -- slivers that add up to quite a substantial piece.

An easy recipe that keeps you coming back for more. Could there be a better welcome back recipe?

A big kid brownie.

2009-07-07T21:53:00.000-07:00

Katharine Hepburn first struck me as something special since I first saw her in "Woman of the Year". Her poise,confidence, and talent translated in every subsequent film I've seen her and she had a regal quality about her that made me feel like she could be a queen living among the masses. With the selection of the Katharine Hepburn brownies by Lisa of Surviving Oz, I was nearly in disbelief that she could also be such a bakestress that so many people could still recall the sumptuousness of her brownies. But, of course, she would a marvelous baker, too, though. What couldn't the woman do??

Brownies have always been one of those not-a-craving-but-I'll-eat-them-if-they-are-in-front-of-me kind of treat for myself, however, if I were have a signature brownie recipe, it would be much like this one. Coffee granules enhance the taste of the chocolate and cinnamon adds a bit of a "What's that flavor I taste??" puzzlement once it reaches the tongue. And nuts! Ohhhhh ,nuts! Some people hate nuts in their brownies. I am not one of those people. The more nuts the better, is what I say. Perhaps I would want it to be every so slightly loftier, but as an adult brownie, it was just right.

Thin, soft, and without too much flour -- words to live by.

A pleasing perfection.

2009-06-30T09:00:00.000-07:00

I, like many Tuesdays With Dorie bakers, am the resident baker at work. I unload treats onto my coworkers weekly (sometimes twice or three times a week, depending on the events of the weekend) to declarations of both love and hate. Love, because who isn't enraptured by a soft, warm cookie or bite of salted caramel-laced chocolate cake? Hate, because I feed their addiction to sweets and treats that may just end up on their hips and thighs without a little self-control. I am both their doting grandmother and drug pusher.

It didn't start out this way because Gelson's or Bristol Farms used to be the office go-to, but it has become assumed that I will bake something for everyone's birthday in the office/immediate store. Not that I dislike this role at all, even though since we've moved our offices to the rear of not one, but two stores with a larger sales staff than before so my baking pool has nearly doubled. I take great pride in paying attention and being able to recollect someone's favorite dessert, so when the occasion arises to demonstrate that, yes, I care enough to make exactly what you love on the one day of the year that you can claim as your own without any protest from others, I am excited for the task.

Now Rachel -- she's grossed out by fruit. Don't even think about coming near her with an orange. Milk chocolate? Perfect. Milk chocolate and caramel? Heaven.

Clarissa -- a nut-embedded cake with nutty filling, cream cheese frosting, covered in toasted nuts.

Sarin -- happiness is yellow butter cake with milk chocolate frosting, just like they do it at the supermarket!

Most of these Tuesday's With Dorie bakers will feel the same way, I'm sure, and I by no means think I am the only fairy godmother of baking. There's just something about homemade baked goods that create a warmth inside of people and the satisfaction we get from being somewhat responsible for that virtual hug is its own wonderful feeling.

Julio's birthday was not too long ago. He likes simple cakes that aren't too sweet, but beyond that, I didn't have much to work with. He would have been perfectly happy with an unadorned pound cake or coffee cake, but as it was his birthday and he does so, so much for us everyday, a celebration cake was in order. Because Dorie's Perfect Party Cake was selected by Carol of mix, mix...stir,stir this week, my decision was made. Lemony cake with a bit of raspberry filling and fluffy frosting? For his tastes, it sounded quite perfect.

Because others had had less-than-lofty cakes, I followed Dorie's tips to a T: new can of baking powder, room temperature eggs and buttermilk, finely grated zest... Still, the cake didn't rise so high. No matter -- it was still sturdy and halved easily. I used my favorite D'arbo brand raspberry preserves even though it wasn't seedless, but it isn't at all cloying which is even more vital in my opinion. The frosting whipped together like a dream too. It was shaping up to be a pretty low stress baking assignment.

The end result was a glorious white cloud, though I omitted the coconut too. It didn't feel like it was necessary, and probably wouldn't add it again unless my frosting job was horrendous. The taste was straightforward and satisfying, but not an immediate groan-inducer. It is an undeniably pleasing cake, however, and I found myself sneaking back to the kitchen for slivers more times than I probably should have. The cake didn't have the decadence of chocolate or caramel that creates a fervor among so many people, but for others, that type of cake is much to rich. Though Perfect Party Cake may not be everyone's favorite cake, no one can refuse it either.

Except for maybe Rachel.

NYC, day 1

2009-06-02T22:00:00.000-07:00

My normal baking successes/woes/queries/general musings will be interrupted with a few tales from my glorious trip to New York a few weeks ago. Blogging about meals isn't my normal cup of tea (idle Yelp account of, oh, probably two years - case in point), but I savored too many delicious bites in those five days to let them go unrecognized. This way, I'll actually be able to recollect where I enjoyed so many tasty morels and not draw a blank anytime a friend asks me where to go as I sometimes do now in LA.

I hit the ground running Saturday morning after a quick nap Saturday morning, after arriving...Saturday morning (it was a very early arrival), with brunch at Shopsin's General Store at Essex Street Market. Cousin Albert was in the midst of cramming for NYU Law finals and wasn't about to waste time trekking to Brooklyn, and Shopsin's was on the short list of my good friend, Lindsay, so that selection killed a few stones for both of us. Not a short wait by any means, but slightly shorter than anticipated, we ended up sidling up to the bar. This meant prime seating for the brother-sister-father bickering show that is essential to the Shopsin's experience. Hearing so many stories about people being thrown out of this place, and being an awful decision-maker given too many options, the ordering process became an anxiety -ridden chore. Sweat beaded in places that shouldn't be sweating as I engaged in the age-old tradition of just plain ordering. Ultimately (and without mishap), I decided on a Sneaky Pete while Albert humored his appetite with the gumbo in addition to the Jewboy sandwich. All of the dishes were fine, but I don't think any could be considered a signature dish by the establishment. We probably should have gotten the hamburger soup or mac 'n cheese pancakes, but my memory completely escaped me when confronted with the anthology of options. Our dishes were tasty, but not particularly remarkable.

Cousin Alb and I parted ways as he had to get back to his regularly scheduled programming of studying, but I wandered about, picking up a pistachio cupcake from Sugar Sweet Sunshine (of which I only ate half), a potato rosemary slice from Grandaisy in Soho, and then eventually headed uptown to meet up with my working friends. As I was already on the Upper West Side, I thought a detour to http://www.bouchonbakery.com/at the Time Warner Center was in order and picked up my first TKO and a pistachio macaron. I sound a bit like a glutton, don't I? Yes. I agree.

Dinner later that night was at a place I had been holding out for ever since reading about it on Serious Eats: JG Melon. Those pictures, along with the one accompanying their feature on the apple sour cream walnut pie shortly thereafter were embedded in my memory and I had to have them both. The dream became reality that night after a short wait in the cramped bar area. I think we were jostled between the jukebox side of the walkway to the stool side at least 25 times during our wait, but it was all worth it. We ordered the burgers medium and they were cooked to perfection -- maybe even a little more on the medium rare side which I was quite content with. The bun was so soft yet completely held up to the meat and its juices. I would liken it to a big hug around a beautiful patty of ground meat. The cottage fries were completely addicting, and even after all the sweets I had consumed that first day, I allowed myself to indulge in the pie.

Sigh. There we were. Three good friends catching up over such a great burger, delightful rounds of deep-fried potato, and a fabulously rich pie. A great end to a first night in a beloved city.

Rectangles and squares

2009-06-02T09:20:00.000-07:00

I don't know what's wrong with me.

Despite all the wonderful things that are baked in rectangular pans, there's always this feeling embedded in my being, somewhere between the vertebrae in my neck (I know, because I feel that area tense up) when I think about baked goods in 9x13 form. I have a deep affection for bread puddings, cobblers, and coffee cakes whose recipes frequently call for 9x13 pans, but in my mind, they are all improved exponentially by simply being baked in other pans. Ramekin, Bundt pan, deep dish pie plate -- all are better!

It's really an awful prejudice. I mean, why would one ever discriminate against a baking pan?? The size usually feeds more people, and it all boils down to ratios anyway -- with a little math, you could just adjust the proportions, use a different dish, and it would taste just the same. What more could you want?! It really doesn't make any sense! And I don't even have a problem with using 9x13s to bake drumsticks!

I have to make a conscious effort not to throw out recipes when the first line reads something along the lines of "Preheat oven to 350F. Lightly grease 9x13 pan." I obviously realize it's completely unreasonable to shudder at the thought of the confines of four walls, two parallel sides of the same length perpendicular to two other sides of the same length, but I honestly cannot help it. Perhaps it was being exposed to too many ugly sheet cakes in my youth, with cloyingly sweet frosting and sprinkles applied with too heavy a hand. And, comparatively, isn't there something so majestic about layer cakes? When I think "sheet cake", I am attacked by images of linoleum and formica, whereas "layer cake" brings to mind fluffy clouds and sunshine - seriously.

Unfortunately, the "a square is a rectangle, but a rectangle is not a square" rule applies to baked goods too, and I often find myself not quite sneering, but wrinkling my nose at square pans. That was the case this weekend when I previewed this week's Tuesdays with Dorie recipe for Cinnamon Squares, selected by Tracey of Tracey's Culinary Adventures.

Groan.

Do I have to??

It turns out, this was the perfect recipe for this weekend as I had already been working on a few baking projects and the last thing I wanted to do was wash more dishes and turn on the mixer. The recipe comes together so quickly and you get all the pleasure of a buttery cake without any beating of the butter!! It reminded me a lot of coffee cake -- with a shiny coating of chocolate frosting that I wasn't really so excited by (I'm just not one of those chocolate frosting people) -- and as coffee cake, I gave myself to go ahead to have some for breakfast! The edges were a little, shall we say...firm?, but it was perfect as you made your way towards the center. I think I'd add some excitement in the form of nutmeg and nuts next time, but it was a nice informal, yet dependable cake.

As usual, I brought it in to work for more people to help with it, and though it started off slow with only 1/4 of the cake gone by 1pm, it finished strong by being mostly devoured by 4:30. Thank goodness I momentarily got over my mild disdain for sheet cakes -- without me, those skinny, fashion types would never reach a respectable daily caloric intake! Turn your back and they'll polish off an entire cake!

Unfortunately, well done.

2009-05-19T23:29:00.000-07:00

It was my own fault.

My mind has been in a million places lately, and I ignored my better judgment and kept this week's Tuesday's With Dorie recipe from Kelly of Baking With the Boys in the oven for quite a bit longer than I should have. By now I should have learned to check cakes far earlier than recommended in a recipe sometimes, but I was neglectful this week, and it showed.

What could have been a resoundingly perfect, delectable slice of bread, according to this week's Ps & Qs was just "okay" in my book. The edges were rather hard, and the innards didn't taste particularly strong of mango, but I'm sure I kept the loaf in the oven for too long. Those moist bits surrounding the fruit always throw me off!!! The taste wasn't bad at all, and I didn't think there was too much ginger, but I'm crossing my fingers that a day tightly wrapped on the counter will soften up the crust and deepen the flavors.

Only time will tell...

A pick-me-up kind of cake

2009-05-05T21:44:00.000-07:00

It's been a whirlwind week and a half. I paid a long overdue visit to New York where I unfailingly consumed a shocking number of calories in the name of "research" from Grandaisy pizza bianca slices, baked goods from Baked in Red Hook, Momofuku Milk Bar, Levain Bakery, Two Little Red Hens, Jacques Torres, and Bouchon, as well as wholly enjoyable meals at Egg in Williamsburg, J.G. Melon, Barbone, and, of course, Momofuku Ko. I allowed myself to taste every delicious bite set in front of me, and especially ones I sought out, as I attempted to counter their effects with many, many steps on the streets and avenues of the city.

As soon as I returned, it was time to bake as I missed a birthday during the trip with several other birthdays upcoming, as well as this week's Tuesday's With Dorie selection of Tiramisu Cake by Megan of My Baking Adventures. The weekend was full of butter, flour, sugar, and eggs, combining to create banana cake cream cheese frosting, butter yellow cake with bittersweet chocolate frosting, red velvet cake sans food coloring, and then this. The tiramisu cake was definitely the most time consuming of the bunch, but the end result was well worth the effort. It tastes exactly like tiramisu in cake form, and save for a little dryness in the cake (how does that happen with all that espresso syrup??), and the alcohol curdling the frosting (didn't look so good, but boy was the mascarpone frosting tasty!), it was a wonderful cake. Tweaking will have to be done next time to achieve perfection, but it was a recipe that I may not have tried on my own.

This is the kind of recipe I joined Tuesdays With Dorie for.

beautiful photos courtesy of Casey Chang

A solid choice.

2009-04-21T09:30:00.000-07:00

Bread pudding may just be my favorite type of dessert. As children, my siblings and I were never really exposed to American desserts, save for the New York cheesecake that came with the meal at Charlie Brown's (it was a ridiculously good deal!) Maaaaaybe we would try some pie at my dad's annual company picnics at Marine World, but occasions were normally celebrated with cakes from Chinese bakeries in the area like Sheng Kee (something in the vein of taro cake or mango mousse when those came into fashion). We never even really considered ordering dessert at dinners out because it was well known by my sisters and I that dessert was just not going to happen.

When I started going out to meals with friends in high school, bread pudding was just never an appetizing name so anytime that showed up on the menu, my brain wouldn't even register that the dish existed on the menu. Granted, our options were limited the Elephant Bar, Chili's, and Applebee's where mud pies and skillet desserts dominate the dessert menu, but I really cannot recall seeing bread pudding on any of the chain restaurant menus available to us. How did I even know something called bread pudding existed then? I don't know. Perhaps it's just selective memory, but at any rate, bread pudding did not equate tasty in my mind.

And then pumpkin bread pudding happened.

For Thanksgiving 2006, I made a meal of sides and dessert (because roasting a turkey seemed daunting, and the sides are the best part of them meal anyway!), but didn't want to go with a traditional pumpkin pie. A recipe for pumpkin bread pudding popped up from Epicurious and because a self-proclaimed bread pudding dissenter actually loved this rendition, I decided to give it a go. It was so much easier than a pie could ever be, and so delicious to boot. The combination of bread, dairy, eggs, sugar, and of course pumpkin was beyond what I ever thought. I was a convert.

Bread pudding has since been ordered for dessert at countless meals, almost never displeasing. (Is it me, or is the dish nearly ubiquitous now?) When I saw that the Four Star Chocolate Bread Pudding was selected by Lauren of A Baking Blog there was no doubt in my mind that I would be participating in this week's Tuesdays With Dorie recipe. A Dorie bread pudding? That's pretty much a guarantee for success.

The resulting dessert was delicious, but I may have been hoping for more. I dried out challah in the oven before pouring the custard mixture on top (though I don't know I would call it custard as Dorie does - it was just so thin!), omitted the raisins because people are notoriously picky about their presence in desserts, and added walnuts, because - let's face it - walnuts and chocolate are like peas and carrots. Perhaps I just favor non-chocolate bread pudding to the chocolate variety, or maybe I would have loved some banana lodged in between the bread cubes, but it didn't blow my mind. I do think that it tastes better on the second day, chilled, however, and maybe even the third -- I'll have to evaluate the situation when I get to work later. With a dollop of whipped cream.

Dessert for breakfast? All in the name of research.

Slightly tardy, completely worth it.

2009-04-16T00:07:00.000-07:00

This cake made me nauseous every step of the way.

Opening the bag of amaretti for the first time, a bomb of almond odor overtook my senses. I honestly thought I was going to vomit right then and there, but, miraculously, I held fast. I resolved to make every recipe for Tuesdays With Dorie this month (the line-up has been pretty awesome, am I wrong?), and so that I would do. The chocolate was chopped, the almonds were on hand, and I had plenty of heavy cream. I forged on, and it was absolutely the right decision.

It's a strange and fortunate coincidence that Holly of Phe/MOM/enon picked Dorie's 15-Minute Chocolate Amaretti Torte this week, because that's really all the time I could stand to be in the kitchen. Having been attacked with food poisoning 24 hours earlier, I couldn't ingest food or look at food, let alone talk or read about it. Candles had to be relegated to the closet and music had to be silenced. Almond is such an intoxicating fragrance when it is welcome, but completely overwhelming -- and nauseating -- when it isn't. I left the kitchen during the short time it was baking, came back to take it out of the oven and so very reluctantly returned to turn it out.

I was much improved the next morning and made the glaze and almond whipped cream without a problem before taking the torte to work. No longer nauseous but still having no desire to try the cake, after several "Mmmmm...this is so good!" responses, I took a sliver and made a composed bite with the cake, cream, and crushed amaretti. It was bliss. I'm a nut fanatic in general and love texture in my baked goods, so the inescapable almondiness in each bite on my tongue and in my nose was pure joy. Though I'm not usually a fan of flourless chocolate cakes, the generous addition of almonds and amaretti made the torte divine.

I'm a little disappointed that I wasn't up to having a full slice, but I rest assured that this recipe will be turned to again, no doubt.

It's about time.

2009-04-09T21:51:00.000-07:00

March 26, 2009 started off like many days. I'm sure I woke up abominably early like I always do, shuffled to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and went bleary-eyed to the gym (without my Shuffle, as that was lost/stolen the week before). I probably showered and made my default breakfast of reconstituted steel cut oats with bananas, walnuts, and copious amounts of cinnamon and nutmeg, and then prepped my lunch for the day, and also dinner because I get out of work later.

Once at work, it's likely I brewed myself a cup of some kind of fruity tea that I picked up last time I was at Target. Not that I'm particular fond of fruity teas, but it the sampler pack was appealing during my last visit for some reason. Around 11:15, Eddie, our UPS guy, bangs on the back gate 5 times, like clockwork. It's my unofficial job to respond to his pounding so at once I jumped out of my seat to answer the back door.

"So what'd you buy?", was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

"Mmm...nothing?" Was this a trick question? Were we engaging in friendly banter already??

"Well, you must have bought something. This big box is for you."

"Mmmm...are you sure? I don't know what it could be."

"Well, let's open it!" He grabbed his box cutter from his chest pocket and sliced open the packing tape with three deft strokes, as if he did that for a living.

I rustle around some of the packing paper in the box and then I see it.

No!

You're kidding!

For me?!

Yep. That box within the box, emblazoned with "Kitchenaid" -- that was for me. And I was beyond surprised.

Who could have gifted me with something so generous and completely appropriate?? My sisters, of course, and later I find out that all of the friends I first texted about my new prized appliance contributed to the mixer as well! I felt so sheepish, but though I may not have thanked them personally right away, my elation was undeniable.

Now on to the bigger question -- how should I christen such a bold specimen? I wanted to pick something that made use of its full potential so something requiring lots of beating was in order, and after much deliberation, pound cake was the decided winner. Only a couple weeks earlier, Deb at smittenkitchen had posted about a cream cheese pound cake with strawberry coulis and as someone who cannot ever deny the elegant simplicity of pound cake, how could I better de-virginize the new object of my affection than with something as age-old as that?

I impatiently waited for my butter to soften one mild Saturday morning and then when I finally poked my finger into the square to test its softness and there was a gentle give, my heart beat a little bit faster. I dumped the butter in the bowl and let the stainless steel paddle attachment steadily build up speed and the rest was magic. My butter has never been fluffier. I've always been very patient with the creaming process, but I don't think I ever fully understood what "light and fluffy" meant when describing creamed butter until now.

The addition of cream cheese was a bit of an unorthodox touch, but I could not have been happier with the result. The crackly top was a welcome textural contrast to the fine, soft grain of the interior. And then the strawberry coulis lended the perfect sweetness and acidity to the comfortingly rich cake. I've mentioned my soft spot for Sara Lee pound cake before and with this slice, a wave of memories rushed back once more. I could be happy eating this every day for the rest of my life.

And also obese.

Eh -- it's a give and take.

Nearly a disaster.

2009-04-07T07:52:00.000-07:00

My love affair with pie has established itself pretty recently , with the advent of making my own pie, but before that, my disdain for those creations of gelatinous mounds of fruit and sugar glopped between flavorless sheets of dough (or atop just one sheet) would be temporarily forgotten with the appearance of pumpkin, pecan, or banana cream pie.

My first experience with pumpkin pie was at Montesorri when Teacher Rosie decided to bring some in as a festive almost Thanksgiving treat. Having been exposed only to Chinese dessert soups of sugar water with wood ear and jujubes, or red bean pastries (nothing against red bean - still love it!) until then, the pumpkin spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg was at once heaven in my mouth. It probably wasn't a particularly velvety or harmonious pumpkin pie, but I don't think my palate was very advanced back then.

Pecan pie was probably purchased by a family member as an attempt to bring some American tradition to our typically Chinese Thanksgiving of hot pot at our family's restaurant. After a meal of flank steak, tripe, fish balls, beef balls, lamb, tofu, wild mushrooms, and dandelion greens thrown into a gurgling pot set upon a butane range in the center of the table, what would be a more appropriate dessert than pecan pie?? I was groomed to love nuts by my mother's preference for Thrifty's Butter Pecan ice cream (purchased so rarely, but if there were an ice cream choice to be made, that is what it would be), so I had no complaints.

The story of banana cream pie -- I have no idea where it begins. Could it be digging by the forkful into a foil pan encased, plastic lidded specimen from the grocery store in a classmate's kitchen? Or was the fluffy cloud of meringue calling my name at Nation's on Jackson after getting my driver's license, and therefore, buying food without parental supervision? Wherever my first banana cream pie was, one bite and I was hooked. If it's on a dessert menu with bread pudding, I am in turmoil with that decision, often ending in the selection of both treats. How I can I deny either of you???

I am a big fan of the Tartine banana cream pie, with its caramel and chocolate layers, but Amy of Sing for Your Supper picked a strong contender for this week's Tuesday's with Dorie recipe. I feel like a proud mother forced to pick a favorite between her children. One is decadent with all the flourishes and undeniably delicious if a bit fussy. The other is straight-forward, with a little surprise spice, not overly sweet, just comfortingly good. It depends entirely on your mood really.

I made this on Sunday and so trusted Dorie that it tastes best when just assembled that I orchestrated a whole impromptu dinner around it. Having held up the meal with Jamie Oliver's milk-and-lemon roast chicken (a 5 pound chicken takes A BIT more time, to say the least), I rushed to finish the pie and didn't make it so pretty. Talk about gelatinous -- the pastry cream was so dense! Whisking it was nearly impossible as it just created curdled chunks. My eyes were in disbelief and I was about to throw in the towel and throw it out, but I took the advice of Mike and thinned with some heavy cream along with nuking it in the microwave a few times. After a lot of muscle, the pastry cream wasn't looking too bad, so the pie was assembled and though it looks afright, it was terribly tasty. I do love pumpkin pie so the cinnamon and nutmeg hints were quite alright with me. Most importantly for me, the crust did not shrink at all this time like it has done in the past, looking like the impact of a custard tidal wave has washed away the crust wall. It may have been religious chilling of the dough every time I worked with it and right before I stuck it in the oven, or making sure my pie weights of beans and rice reached the absolutely top of the crust, but either way, a triumph!

Regret averted.

2009-03-31T07:55:00.000-07:00

And I almost wasn't going to make this week's Tuesdays With Dorie recipe!!

My Sunday started off unimaginably slow yesterday -- I didn't wake up in my own bed at the normal 7 o'clock hour and didn't make it to the farmers' market by 8 and didn't finish all of my errands by 11. Productivity didn't really start until 1:15 as I briskly did my walk through of the market while most vendors were packing up and then ambled through Pavilions with 4 pounds of butter in my arms. I'm sure everyone thought that maybe I was Paula Deen's long lost Asian daughter, but Land o' Lakes for $3?! You would stock up too.

I finally took a look at this week's selection of Coconut Butter Thins by Jayne of The Barefoot Kitchen Witch when I got home, and upon reading "macadamia nuts", "lime", "coriander", I was turned off. I had no desire to run out to the store for more ingredients, so I decided nope! Not this week! And then I read the P&Qs. The reviews are pretty difficult to tune out. "Perfect." "Amazing." "Top 5 Dorie recipes." With a groan, I headed to the kitchen.

Sweetened coconut was on hand, and I could have substituted pistachios or pecans for the macadamias, but Dorie's comment that nuts were not at all necessary was encouraging so I omitted them entirely. Lemon it would have to be as lime wasn't readily available. I was a little wary about the pinch of coriander, but with a deep breath, made myself do it.

The finished cookie was (as everyone said it would be) absolutely delicious. Definitely not the most attractive cookie because of the strange way they spread, but the proof is in the taste. I have a soft spot for Danish butter cookies, and these reminded me of them a bit, especially the kind you find in Solvang -- a little bit coconutty, adding more texture than the variety in the blue tins, and lot of butter. The lemon was a nice touch and not overwhelming at all, and I really couldn't taste the coriander at all. I pride myself on my self-control of late, but these cookies were testing every ounce of restraint. They're unassuming, little ugly things, but when you bite into one...

They are greater than the sum of their parts.

A different way of celebrating.

2009-03-28T22:01:00.000-07:00

I look forward to St. Patrick's Day every year. Sure, it is some bastardized holiday that has become more an occasion to drink until obliteration than one celebrating the man who rid Ireland of snakes, but as much as I enjoy a well-made Irish coffee, my love for Irish soda bread runs deeper. That, for me, is the true highlight of March 17th.

I can still remember the first time I tasted this bread because the day was marked with a car accident on the streets of San Francisco. My sister and I had stopped at La Farine in Berkeley on our way into the city for morning buns and there was Irish Soda Bread sitting on the shelf, over the shoulder of the baker. It was a variety I had heard about, but had never tried and there it was in front of me. It was the perfect day to take a chance on something potentially phenomenal (it was La Farine, after all) so I went ahead and had them throw one in the bag too. The morning buns, however sugary and messy to eat, were devoured in the car before we crossed the Bay Bridge, but the loaf we saved for a more leisurely moment. This leisurely moment came much later in the afternoon - only after our car was hit full on by a car coming down those hills of the city without stopping for its red light! No one was injured, but our plan of spending a beautiful, bright, and sunny day in the city window shopping and relaxing was shot and instead, we were shuttled back across the bay by the tow truck driver and waited at the Carl's Jr. across the street from the mechanic while insurance was dealt with.

I should qualify this deep affection as one for the American Irish soda bread -- slightly sweet with raisins and, undoubtedly, caraway seeds!! I love the flavor of rye that it gives and it probably tricks my senses into thinking the bread is healthier than it actually is. Left to my own devices, I could probably finish a 10 inch loaf before lunch time.

Last year I made the Cook's Illustrated recipe with raisins and caraway seeds and I brought some delicious white cheddar and Granny Smith apples to accompany it. This year, I decided to try a different recipe, but incorporated elements from last year's pick -- most notably, baking the bread in a dutch oven and brushing it with melted butter to give it a nice crust. I decreased the amount sugar, and also the baking powder because, as this is a soda bread, it doesn't quite make sense to me to use so much of another leavening agent.

The result was a more scone-like than bread-like soda bread. I love a good scone, so this texture I don't mind at all, but I think next year I'll revert back to the basic Cook's Illustrated version for something more reminiscent of bread. It wasn't at all necessary, but I bought some rich Kerrygold Irish butter to go with the bread and it was heaven in my mouth. I think you could slather some Kerrygold on a shoe and it would be delicious.

I'm thinking about incorporating this bread into my regular repertoire seeing as how I just can't get enough of the taste, but I also kind of like how it is only associated with one particular holiday for me. As my last fix was a fairly recent, I'm not itching to devour another loaf just yet, but give it time. I'll be feenin' soon!! And then I'll have some real decisions to make.

Prelude to summer.

2009-03-24T21:31:00.000-07:00

I love my Sunday ritual of going to the Hollywood Farmers' Market. Rain or shine, I am always there at roughly the 8 o'clock hour, regardless of whether I slept at 9:30 pm, or 4:30 am the night before. People are amazed at my stamina when I tell them after the third drink of the evening that I'll still be in attendance at the market the next morning, but it's an event I look forward to all week, and brings me a sense of calm and everything-is-as-it-should-be if only in the hour that I'm there, half zoning out and half taking in all the colors and aromas of the season.

It's Los Angeles, so the market is blessed with a wide array of produce every week, and I have golden beets within reach without fail while my cousin in Manhattan has to search five different markets in different areas for them. Sadly, I'm sure many Angelenos (myself included) take this amazing selection for granted and overlook so much of what's available. I'm guilty of this offense when it comes to berries. Not so much strawberries as it wouldn't be unusual for me to pick up a half flat some weeks, but I have never once gone home with any of those tiny globules of blueberry or blackberry goodness - until now. They don't run cheap which is a major deciding factor in my decision of whether or not I really need them that week (especially after having spent $5 on a dozen of my favorite eggs, and $4 on a pound of Empress dates, and another $4 on 5 pieces of pita bread), but this week's Tuesday's With Dorie selection by Sihan of Befuddlement seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally give in and pop my berry cherry.

Coffee cake is one of my weaknesses with it's characteristic streusely topping, and the blueberry crumb cake sounded like it's close cousin. I have to admit, though, I was slightly disappointed at first bite. I had made it the day before, and when I finally tried it a day and a half later, it didn't induce the same kind of response as, say, Dorie's apple pie. Also, the cake took much longer than the 55-65 minutes for the knife to come out clean, and when it finally did, I think the cake was a tad dried out. (Those slits in the crust are from all the testing I did! Hideous, but necessary.) And the berries (blueberry with a smattering of blackberry) -- they could have definitely been sweeter, so it was a slight disappointment for my first berry-buying occasion.

It wasn' t all bad though -- the big crumb "crust" was my favorite part, as well as that of most of my coworkers' and when I finally decided that microwaving may save the cake, I found the butteriness in the crumbs so much more enhanced, and with the accompaniment of a berry tea, an utterly good midday indulgence.

Even though I was less than thrilled with my first taste, others were still very enthusiastic. It was devoured so quickly that I was a worried the innards wouldn't get a chance with the camera lens. Still, I would do things differently if there is a next time -- berries + sugar = good idea before summer, even in California, and don't be fooled by a seemingly wet batter after your gut tells you it's ready. Near fatal flaws!

Sitting and being.

2009-03-17T08:19:00.000-07:00

It has been nearly four years since my first (and last) visit to Paris and I feel the itch bad. At that time, I had traveled to several European countries before, and was studying abroad in Siena, Italy for a few months, but France had still eluded me. Maybe we were trying to be non-traditional when in 1994 my family and I took a jaunt around central Europe with other family friends, visiting Italy, Austria, Germany, Hungary, the Czech Republic, and Slovakia -- those just aren't the typical countries one visits their first time in Europe. I'm so thankful for the experience though, however we may have spent more time staying up late in hotel rooms and sleeping on the tour bus than relishing in the magnificence of the Innsbruck ski jump.
At 22 years old, it was time. I decided not to walk at commencement, and instead planned a trip to Greece right after the program in Siena ended, followed by a stop in Nice for a couple days just to see what the South was all about, and finally, nearly a week's stay in Paris. It was as wonderful as can be imagined, indulging in breakfast pastries daily, sitting at a cafe for hours, wandering the narrow streets of le Marais. With my host who was an old co-worker friend that was then teaching English in the city, we avoided the tourist path and did what I have grown to love when vacationing anywhere -- just sitting and being.
This week's Tuesday's With Dorie assignment was chosen by Liliana of My Cookbook Addiction and it is just the kind of cake that tastes best on a Parisian sidewalk with an afternoon tea and a blanket of sunshine. I made Girl Scout cookies all last week, so not having to pull out the mixer again was also so appealing. Like many other bakers, lemon marmalade was nowhere to be found (although I did find lime and lemon-lime marmalade, but was not turned on by the idea of lime) so I went with the King Kelly orange marmalade of my childhood. Maybe not the best of the lot, but it reminds me of my dad's buttered wheat toast (Wonderbread was forbidden in our household) with marmalade every time. I only have a 9 x 5 loaf pan, and as early reports said, the loaf didn't rise much anyway, I thought it would have looked a little flat in my slightly-larger-than-the-recipe-called-for pan and switched it to two mini loaf pans instead. I tented the loaves with foil as they darkened quickly so the coloring ended up quite nice.

The result is simply lovely. Not heavy to begin with, but the citrus and yogurt cut any greasiness the cake may have (I reduced the oil to 1/3 cup anyway). And the almond flour adds a little something to the texture that makes you want to eat every tiny crumb that falls loose from each slice.

I just went to the kitchen and had another slice. It is even better today than yesterday, just as Dorie said it would be. God bless her heart!

In disguise.

2009-02-24T07:55:00.000-08:00

Another sister's visit, another busy weekend.

I'm over the moon whenever my sisters come to visit, but I'm always left entirely exhausted. There are always so many places to eat, treats to try, people to see, and events to attend as it's such a short "vacation" for them and they need to pack as much in as possible, but there goes any chance of a relaxing weekend, or even a full night's sleep... (It's my own fault -- I can't sleep past 7:30am nearly ever, even if they're in my bed fast asleep until noon because we have nothing scheduled until brunch!)
So I go about my business, visiting the Hollywood Farmers' Market, or going to Griffith Park, and when I return, they're still asleep. I'm so jealous.

Last week it was pizzas and dreamy off-the-menu bourbon cocktails at Riva, followed by spicy pork tacos from Kogi, the Korean taco truck that is taking the city by storm, a return to Venice in the morning with brunch at Gjelina (BLTs with fried eggs are completely underrated), drinks and exploring LACMA, more Korean food at Chunju Han Il Kwan topped off with coconut cake and more drinks downtown, dim sum in the AM in Monterey Park, taro and almond milk tea with boba, and pineapple buns (containing no pineapple, by the way) from the Chinese bakery next door.
This week, as soon as Liz and I picked up my sister from the airport, we indulged the infamous Father's Office burger (arguably, not a burger, but that is neither here nor there) and they're absolutely addicting sweet potato fries. I've been on the edge of my seat, waiting for the return of the Zoe Nathan brunch and this week was it so we braved the line at Huckleberry for their homemade English muffin topped with La Quercia prosciutto, gruyere, and a poached egg, finished off with pesto the most brilliant shade of green. An hour later, it was time to seize the rare opportunity for Persian food (my friends aren't huge fans) at Shamshiri Grill on Westwood, and then a break in the clouds as my sister attends a wedding!!! (I know eating isn't as miserable as I make it out to be -- there are many people for whom this is more food than they eat in a week.) The evening commences with drinks, and more drinks clear across town, with a late, late night snack of hash browns and sauteed string beans (trying to keep it somewhat healthy). Preserved vegetable, dried pork, and vinegary savory soy milk and Chinese crullers start off the next morning, followed by hot-out-of-the-oven pineapple and red bean mochi buns.
Though we know our stomachs have no need for more buttery brioche style breads, when the rare instance arises that they are still warm to the touch, all bets are off.

We had a an Oscar-viewing party to go to later that evening, which is when I decided it was time to make this week's Tuesdays with Dorie assignment, from Whitney of What's Left On The Table was Caramel Crunch Bars. I have to admit, I wasn't particularly excited about this pick. I like chocolate and toffee as much as the next person, but something about this recipe didn't speak to me. It was, however, the perfect on-the-fly treat to bring to our gathering. Not because you could make some clever Academy Award pun to name it, but because you could literally just slap it together. Whip up the cookie layer, press it into the pan, off into the oven it goes. It wasn't the prettiest of creations (maybe as a result of my hurried assembly), so I still didn't have high hopes for it, but once we finished dinner, and everyone took their first bite, and then another, we knew it was trouble. Caramel and salt pair as if they were soulmates, so the saltiness of the base balanced the richness of the dark chocolate and toffee layers beautifully. Next time, I would cut down on the amount of chopped chocolate in the cookie layer, or leave it out entirely. It was tasty, but not completely necessary, and for me, blurred the definition between the cookie and chocolate layer. I might add some chopped almonds on top in the future though, as that was all that was missing to create a delicious Almond Roca bar!
All in all, it was an enjoyable weekend, despite the sometimes laborious nibbles. And anyone who doesn't think one can tire from eating has clearly not spent some time with my family. We welcome new dining companions though -- more people means we can try even more.

Finally.

2009-02-17T09:56:00.000-08:00

Joining the Tuesdays With Dorie group was on my mind long before I joined. I can't recall the first time I heard about the group, but it was probably not long after I learned about its namesake and discovered the wonder of her recipes. Korovas, cocoa chocolate chip cookies...they all made my mouth water, and delving deeper into this Dorie Greenspan, I found her book "Baking: From My Home to Yours" and became entranced with the cover photo of the Devil's Food White Out Cake. I'm sure the cover photo alone has won over many people who have been on the "What baking cookbook should I buy?" fence, and it was our good fortune that Stephanie of Confessions of a City Eater picked this cake for this week's assignment.
I've only made one other "Celebration Cake" of Dorie's (Bill's Big Carrot Cake) and was so excited to finally try another!!

Unfortunately, I was disappointed.

It started off so well, but I'm not sure if it was the batter sitting around for 20 minutes after having been prepared as I had forgotten to preheat the oven (what experienced baker does that?!), but despite having tasted delicious, the cake didn't rise too much. The beauty of this baking community is that you can share your results and figure out if it was the recipe's error, or if you just screwed up royally. Thankfully, I had read enough Ps&Qs to know that a low rise wasn't uncommon for this cake. Kudos to the food stylist for the book, because he/she made it look towering.
My second challenge was the marshmallow frosting. This was my first attempt at this kind of frosting, although I had made the marshmallow topping for smitten kitchen's s'mores pie awhile back, but this time was really unsuccessful. I had read on the boards that pasteurized egg whites would work (even though the carton says "not suitable for meringues"), but I really should have done the work to separate actual eggs. It achieved a marshmallow taste, but not a fluffy yet firm texture. In fact, when the frosting fell from the weight of the cake layers, it didn't look so hot. In the photos, you can't even really tell that there is frosting between the layers! And thank goodness the cake is meant to be covered in cake crumbs!!

Regardless of the presentation, it was a tasty cake. The fourth layer of cake that was crumbled to decorate the outside yielded far too many crumbs, so I've been eating it one delicious spoonful at a time. I actually prefer this unadulterated layer of cake over the frosted version (or that may just speak volumes about the state of my frosting). I may try this recipe again, just because the cake is so tasty, and maybe trade out the marshmallow frosting for something like...cream cheese? Mmmmm...I can just taste it now...

Bringing back Winter

2009-01-27T10:05:00.000-08:00

Out-of-towners always tell me how lucky they think I am living in Los Angeles. "Such great weather! I would love it!", they say. I'll admit that the climate facilitates such activities as riding bikes from Santa Monica to Hermosa Beach, or hiking in Temescal Canyon, or dining al fresco, but c'mon! Do I really need to be wearing my summer clothes in the dead of winter (as I did last week)?? Honey, living here for seven years...you're going to start missing the seasons. Why can't it just be brisk for a solid month??

We finally had a good rain before the weekend and I was elated. Showers are the closest thing to Winter we have in these parts and I loved every minute of it, and even though it kept me from finally getting back to Griffith Park after my month-long absence, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

This week's Tuesdays with Dorie recipe, hosted by Heather of Sherry Trifle, was the Fresh Ginger and Chocolate Gingerbread and was most appropriate for summoning the warmth of winter. With our near nonexistent winter this year, any taste of the holidays is welcome, and this recipe brought me back to that.

This was another easy recipe to put together, and as Chinese New Year dinner was only the night before, I had lots of ginger on hand already. I decided to omit the crystallized ginger as I wasn't sure my coworkers would be game for that much spiciness, but I feel like with the ground and sugared ginger, the flavor was just right. The cake definitely wasn't too sweet and the chocolate icing was also a big hit although from the photos, you can probably see that the sugar didn't dissolve all the way for some reason. Not the best in terms of appearance, and I don't know what it is -- The mild sweetness? The single tier construction that makes people think it isn't as indulgent as a multi-layered cake? -- but this cake was devoured so quickly.

In a couple more weeks, it'll probably be a consistent 80 degrees until June gloom, and it just doesn't feel right to pull this recipe out on post-sunbathing afternoons, but next October...watch out.

The savory side of baking

2009-01-13T21:48:00.000-08:00

I do lots of baking, by the normal person's standards, and especially during this time of year, but virtually all of it is sweet. Cakes, pies, cookies, muffins...these are never unusual in my repertoire, but it takes something like Tuesdays with Dorie to "force" me to bake something savory. I don't know what it is -- I've just always erred on the side of sweet from childhood on.

Soy milk sweetened with sugar, or with the addition of green onions, preserved pork, pickled greens, and a drizzle of vinegar and chili oil? Sweet, of course!

A flaky, curry chicken or Chinese BBQ pork mini-pie, or a flaky egg custard tart? Dan ta! (No brainer!)

Brioche french toast with bourbon-pecan topping, or red flannel hash with a poached egg on top? Okay...these days, that decision is a little tougher -- I can't pick a winner.

Rebecca of Ezra Pound Cake was the host of this week's recipe, and she picked Savory Corn & Pepper Muffins, thankfully, because I probably never would have made this recipe if someone hadn't. Typically me, I prefer the sweet Yankee style of cornbread (may be because I was first exposed to this kind of cornbread first and most frequently) and the additions of any savory ingredient always perplexed me.

Cheese? Jalapenos? Why would you do that??

This recipe came together so quickly despite the chopping of the extra add-ins, and although I feared something went wrong when my perhaps-not-room-temperature-enough buttermilk was mixed with the butter (lumpy, bumpy substance), everything turned out just beautifully. Next time, I think I may even add more black pepper, jalapeno, red pepper, and cilantro, as I felt like those flavors could be more pronounced. I would absolutely serve this at dinner, or as an accompaniment to a yummy hash or egg-based breakfast.

I think maybe my salted-sweet-leaning allegiances are now giving way to a finer appreciation for things savory. What is this world coming to?

A busy December

2008-12-27T17:31:00.000-08:00

Last year, I decided to start a tradition that many of you in the blogosphere participate in, and one that I will hopefully continue for many, many years to come -- holiday cookie gifts. The decision was a result of a limited budget, the desire to offer something that someone else might not, and an itch to bake, and after many, many hours of labor in the kitchen, a pretty impressive assortment was created. I could not have predicted the enthusiasm with which these cookie jars/bags/baskets were received, but it was clear that they were much appreciated and I have every intention of doing them year after year now.

The varieties from last year included both crispy and chewy chocolate chip cookies, cocoa chocolate chip cookies, World Peace Korovas, shortbread, oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, rugelach, molasses spice, brownie bites, Mexican wedding, pecan squares, and I think I'm missing two others. Although, I was happy with most of them (save for the crispy chocolate chips -- too strong a taste of olive oil), I tried to improve the mix this year with mostly new recipes. The final list included: The Cook's Illustrated Best Recipe molasses spice, the beloved NY Times chocolate chip recipe, snickerdoodles and mini black-bottom brownie cups from The All-American Cookie Book, The Frog Comissary oatmeal chocolate chip, Vanilla Garlic's lemon mascarpone blondies, pecan tassies, cut-out sugar cookies, and a whole slew of Dorie recipes including peanut butter crisscrosses, rugelach (apricot pecan and chocolate walnut), Korovas (again), Punitions, pecan powder puffs, and Linzer sables. These were the Tuesdays with Dorie recipe hosted by Dennis of Living the Life earlier this month, and though that was a hectic week and I wasn't able to complete the recipe then, I thought it would definitely be a starlet in a holiday line-up.

The dough came together so easily (again, I pray at the altar of the Cuisinart), was amazingly easy to roll out and cut out, and baked up beautifully as well. I'm a huge fan of the D'arbo strawberry jam ever since having a tiny jar of it with my toast at Comme Ca, so I searched out their raspberry jam for this recipe and I have no doubt that it was the perfect filling to the cookie.

Spiced sandwich cookies with fruit filling don't immediately make my mouth water, and I didn't even love it at first bite, but the next day, perhaps once the flavors mellowed, or melded together, I was a fan. A British-by-way-of-Germany-but-born-American friend (and lucky cookie tin recipient) said it"tasted German" (not sure if that's a positive or negative statement), but I also sent a giant round tin to my sisters and the older of the two commented on its tastiness out of all the other varieties, so I'm taking it as a good thing. She described it as "the Pepperidge Farm looking one", but it tastes far better than anything prepackaged, in my opinion, and, clearly, was the visual standout in the sea of different shades of brown (yet delicious) cookies.

Simple deliciousness

2008-12-08T22:06:00.000-08:00

My sister loves sugar cookies, and while they aren't my favorite cookie, there is something to be said for an unadulterated sugar cookie -- chock full of butter and sugar, of course; pale, pale yellow, seemingly void of any flavor, but it's usually the recipes made of the simplest of ingredients that resonate in one's memory and stand the test of time. This week's Tuesday's with Dorie recipe is hosted my Ulrike of Kuchenlatein and is Grandma's All-Occasion Sugar Cookies and I was pretty excited to test it out to find a go-to sugar cookie recipe that my sister will approve of. It's been a busy week, so I wasn't able to employ any amazing variation to the recipe (although the measure of a great sugar cookie should be judged at its essence, I think -- just like a cupcakery should be evaluated by their vanilla-vanilla first and foremost). Roll-out cookies haven't had much of a presence in my baking as the nuisance of dough sticking on my counter was (as with the aforementioned bane of my existence -- pie dough) quite a deterrent. I didn't even have cookie cutters, so over the weekend I stopped by Surfas for some great, classic shapes. Fleur de lys? I know my friend would love them already!

The dough was manageable, but did soften up rather quick, leading to a slightly deformed snowflake during transfer to the baking sheet. Most of them made it to the oven, although there was a mishap involving the floor, and I sprinkled a bit of sanding sugar over the tops. Next time I'll surely involve some colored icing.

All in all, it was quite a tasty recipe. The cookie baked up firm, but after a bit of time, they did definitely soften up. I may prefer a sugar cookie with more bite to it, but we'll see what the verdict is with my sugar cookie afficionado sister.

Thanksgiving deliciousness.

2008-11-29T18:50:00.001-08:00

I'm so excited for my inaugural entry for Tuesdays with Dorie. It's been on my radar for many months, then I finally started a blog and have been trying to fill it with enough content before venturing into this baking group. I have sung my praises of Dorie's recipes before, and now, every Tuesday, I will be doing it with regularity (given the success of each week's recipe, of course).

Appropriately enough, this week's pick by Vibi of La Casserole Carree was Thanksgiving Twofer Pie. Some people are pumpkin pie devotees, others worship in the church of pecan -- why not kill two birds with one stone? I have to admit, I used to look forward to the seasonal pumpkin-pecan cheesecake at one well-known cheesecake-centric restaurant all year, so something with the same flavors, and made with a little more love was right up my alley.

I had previously committed to baking a pie for my good friend, Tin, and was thinking of Dorie's Sour Cream Pumpkin Pie, but this was another case of killing two birds with one stone. Maybe I shouldn't test recipes out on friends, especially on a dessert that people have very strong feelings about, but it didn't turn out half bad. I decorated the pie with maple leaves, and though it was a lot of work, I think it was worth it. I can't say I would do it every time because of the tediousness of carving in the veins, but it does make for a lovely visual.

I was told that the pie didn't slice so well, and the proof is in the pie, but it was still darn delicious. I even kept it in the oven for at least 10 minutes longer than the recipe stated. I'll have to try it for myself sometime -- Christmas maybe?

Black & White Unite! - Baking for Barack

2008-11-09T23:22:00.000-08:00

So, it's a little late of a post, but it's never too late to celebrate the amazing feat of having elected such an inspirational leader for our country right? Back in October, I read about this baking event to raise money for the campaign in swing states on EatingLA and while some awesome folks went to Nevada and drew attention to the cause by making human pyramids at intersections and going door-to-door, I contributed by spending a day baking. Not a far reach for a Saturday afternoon/evening, but I like to think I was responsible for a tiny bit of the over $7000 that this sale raised in one morning.

While sometimes it's nice to make something unique with a little bit of ingenuity, I feel that at bake sales, there's a certain expectation of what the treats should be, and one shouldn't stray too far from that. Cookies, bars, muffins, cupcakes, and coffee cakes are all pretty standard as they're such portable crowd-pleasers and who has ever met a homemade cookie that they didn't like?

Okay. I have, but usually they're pretty good.

It was a tough decision, but I settled on David Lebovitz' Black-bottomed Cupcakes, a classic sour cream coffee cake, The Cheeseboard's currant scones,and the image on smittenkitchen was just too tempting, so peanut butter brownies.

I was a little late getting there, but was floored by what I saw once I arrived. It was a huge sale with so many volunteers -- children manning the lemonade stand and adults holding fort behind the baked goods. It really speaks to the involvement of the community as so many families were holding up signs for the bake sale, cheering on either side of the street, and those that weren't working the sale were strolling up with their loved ones and making their contribution by purchasing the goods. There were long tables packed with cupcakes, coffee cakes, all sorts of cookies, loaves, and there were still more things that couldn't fit on the spread yet. I had never seen anything like it and got that warm, fuzzy feeling witnessing such a vision of community.

I couldn't leave without buying a couple things, and what did I end up with? A currant scone from Clementine and a slice of streuseled sour cream coffee cake. "Wait...isn't that what you made?" Yes, it is. Those are a couple of my favorite things that clearly I love to make, and eat. Given the option, and even with dozens of other tantalizing temptations like pumpkin cookies and sticky buns, I cannot resist the simple pleasures of a scone or coffee cake. With the addition of a latte from Lamill, it was a rewarding, inspirational, lovely morning indeed.

This bake sale obviously wasn't what tipped the presidential race over the edge, and I know even all the bake sales around the country weren't responsible for the victory, but looking at the incredible involvement of the neighborhood for this cause, the call for change was deafening. And if this showing existed all over the US, it's no wonder we can now look toward the near future with even more hope.

As American as apple pie

2008-11-07T07:09:00.000-08:00

I can't say apple pie has ever been a favorite of mine. Maybe it's my experience with primarily too-mushy supermarket pies or overly-sweet Marie Callendar's pies, but the filling usually doesn't call my name the way banana cream or pecan pies do. Give me one of those and I won't be able to help myself.

Pie, in general, I have never really forayed into, save for the S'more Pie I made for Tin's Summer party this year (which was crazy good, albeit a lot of work), but it had a graham cracker crust and it's high time I tried making a classic pie with crust made from scratch, rolled out, and carefully lifted into the pie plate. As is characteristic of myself (and with the harrowing experience of rolling out dough for Cornish pasties on my counter), I wasn't about to take on this task unprepared so I waited until I acquired a silicone pastry mat to facilitate the challenge that is pie dough. And of course there's my trusty Cuisinart that I finally sprung for when taking on the Hazelnut Brown Butter Cake in July for a dear, dear friend's birthday. Don't know how I ever lived without it.

As we enter into fall with an abundance of crisp, sweet, and slightly tart organic apples at the farmer's market, this seemed like the most logical choice for a first-time pie-maker, not to mention its ubiquity and reflection of Americana. The purveyor recommended Tsugaru and Mutsu apples for baking, and I already had some humongous Fuji apples at home. I decided to go with Dorie to hold my hand in this process and, as usual, it was a stunning recipe.

It might be plain as day to a lot of people, but I had no idea how important apple variety was to the outcome of the pie until I made it for myself. Maybe because I've only had store-bought apple pie that I haven't cared much for it, but I found the filling equally as delicious as the crust this time around -- and I'm a crust MONSTER. {Sidenote: Always keep your crust scraps, roll it out, cut out designs for decoration, or just rip up shards (if you can't be bothered to make it look pretty) and bake it up until its golden brown for pure deliciousness.} The apple choice had a lot to do with the pie's success as the Tsugarus and Mutsus really had a brightness to them that apple pie mush normally lacks. And a varied apple choice also lends itself to a contrast in textures so each bite alternates between soft fruit and more toothsome chunks.

The crust was, of course, pure deliciousness. Tender and flaky, buttery with just the right amount of sweetness. It's no wonder that Dorie calls it the good-for-everything pie crust. It was the perfect envelope with which to deliver the filling and now I'm definitely an apple pie convert. Seriously -- it's on par with Ikeda's, and probably even better. I can't wait to perfect the execution now!

A Southern classic

2008-10-12T16:53:00.000-07:00

I have nothing against coconut, and actually quite like coconut creme brulee, curries with coconut, and those gelatinous coconut flavored squares at dim sum, but coconut cake has never appealed to me. I've never even tried it actually, because there has never been any desire to. It doesn't appear that anyone else does usually either, because I'm sure had anyone in my company ordered it, I would have had a taste. Maybe it's the appearance of the cake that is unappealing. Showered with a flurry of sweetened coconut, you would seemingly have to gnaw at it like a horse does with hay -- too much work. Or maybe it's the uniform color that most coconut cakes have.

White.

Flavorless.

How can it possibly be good?

Then again, I don't understand the appeal of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting either. A dark brown cocoa-enhanced cake with a tender crumb swathed in cream cheese frosting? Totally get it. The same cake with salted caramel frosting? Yes, please. Put chocolate frosting on it and I just think, "Boring. What's the point?"

Anyhow, it wasn't until a friend of Alix' mentioned this as one of his favorite cakes did I ever hear of someone having an affinity for this dessert, and, because I'm all for trying new things, I decided I would have to make it at least once.

Again, since most people don't seem to love coconut cake as much as, say, red velvet, or strawberry country cake, I finally remembered to make it when said friend of a friend's birthday came around. It was then that I learned that it's more of a Southern treat, and one that people definitely have strong feelings about. Some recipes call for a meringue frosting, some for buttercream, and some even for cream cheese frosting which, of course, became my choice. The coconut flavor is attributed to either coconut milk in the cake, or cream of coconut. I had never even heard of cream of coconut, but it can be found in the mixer aisle of the supermarket as it's the base for pina coladas. I'll have to try another recipe that relies on coconut milk another time as I'm not sure the coconut flavor was distinct enough for my liking using the cream of coconut.

With my luck, it ended up that after making this gorgeous three layer cake, I find out that the birthday boy was in London and not returning for well over a week. That was a slight disappointment, because he completely deserves a nice gesture, but it was definitely a good excuse to finally try to make -- and eat -- this kind of cake. (Obviously, we weren't going to let all my hard work go to waste.) Now, it still isn't a favorite of mine (and we all know I do love cake), but it's not a bad concoction at all -- some people were actually extremely fond of it, including people who don't normally like coconut cake at all. Cream cheese frosting -- it unites us all.

Coconut Layer Cake
from Shubox Cafe via Epicurious

2 3/4 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 cups sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup canned sweetened cream of coconut (such as Coco Lépez)*
4 large eggs, separated
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk
pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour two 9-inch-diameter cake pans with 2-inch-high sides. Whisk flour, baking powder, baking soda and 1/2 teaspoon salt in medium bowl to blend. Using electric mixer, beat sugar, butter and sweetened cream of coconut in large bowl until fluffy. Beat in egg yolks and vanilla extract. On low speed, beat in dry ingredients and then buttermilk, each just until blended.

Using clean dry beaters, beat egg whites with pinch of salt in another large bowl until stiff but not dry. Fold beaten egg whites into batter.

Divide cake batter between prepared pans. Bake cakes until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 45 minutes. Cool cakes in pans on rack 10 minutes. Run small sharp knife around pan sides to loosen cakes. Turn cakes out onto racks and cool completely.

Place 1 cake layer on cake plate. Spread 1 cup Cream Cheese Frosting over cake layer. Sprinkle 1 cup sweetened shredded coconut over. Top with second cake layer. Spread remaining frosting over top and sides of cake. Sprinkle remaining coconut over cake, gently pressing into sides to adhere. (Coconut Layer Cake can be prepared up to 1 day ahead. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate. Let stand at room temperature 2 hours before serving.)

Coconut Cream Cheese Frosting
adapted from recipe accompanying Tropical Carrot Cake via Epicurious

3 8-ounce packages Philadelphia-brand cream cheese, room temperature
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups powdered sugar
3/4 cup canned sweetened cream of coconut (such as Coco López)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Beat cream cheese and butter in large bowl until smooth. Beat in powdered sugar, then cream of coconut and both extracts. Chill until firm enough to spread, about 30 minutes.

Hurrah for no cake-cutting fees!!

2008-09-04T20:54:00.000-07:00

Let's all give a round of applause for restaurants (usually small, independently owned establishments) that don't charge cake-cutting fees!!! It's such a convenience for people like myself who love celebrating friends' birthdays with homemade cakes, but enjoy having birthday dessert and the hoopla surrounding it dining out.
It was Cassie's birthday this past week and the entire gang came down to LA in honor of the bithday girl -- not that they don't try to find any excuse to come visit. Clearly I bake regularly, but I also try to stick to a pretty healthy diet: lots of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains. That all gets thrown out the window when these girls come into town though. When we get together, we eat, and we eat A LOT. They need to get their fix of whatever they can't find in the Bay Area, and I get to enjoy everything I don't normally allow myself.
This particular trip included Honey's Kettle fried chicken and soft, buttery biscuits, Japanese fusion izakaya, an Italian breakfast sandwich and pear pancakes at The Kitchen, a quick Intelligentsia stop, pad see ew and crispy pork with green beans at Ord Noodle, crostinis and salami from Joan's on Third, the oozy goodness of the chicken mushroom panini at Il Tramezzino, dinner at Palate Food + Wine in Glendale, a light breakfast of soft scrambled vegetarian hen eggs with wild mushrooms at LA Mill, the Cuban Reuben for brunch at The Foundry, mussels and garlic mops and cornbread at Village Idiot, the bo ssam and seafood pancake at Kowaboo, and, of course, http://whippedtheblog.com/2008/05/01/heavenly-banana-cake-with-super-special-cream-cheese-frosting/.
After an exhausting week and too little free time, I managed to whip up a banana cake that has been a crowd pleaser in the past. It's unfailingly moist and infused with delicious banana flavor. Not too much adornment, but cream cheese frosting, and maybe some toasted pecans are all you need. It's so simple to whip together and the biggest issue is just planning ahead so that your bananas will be good to go when it comes time to bake. And by good to go, I mean black. To the point where your better judgment would have you throw them out instead of attracting fruit flies. Another alternative is to troll different markets, asking for really ripe bananas and quite frequently, they'll have them in the back, quarantined from "blemish-free" bananas. Waiting until this stage makes ALL the difference.

Pecan Pie Cupcakes

2008-09-02T21:36:00.000-07:00

August flew by with all sorts of goings-on. People moving out, moving in, 24 hour trips to Vegas, more people moving out, moving in, hosting 4 people with only 4 semi-comfortable areas to sleep in, including my own bed...and, still, birthdays must be celebrated. Sigh.
I do love to bake for friends' birthdays, but sometimes there's just so much going on that it's the last thing I want to do. Lucky for them, I still pull myself up by my boot straps and try to whip up something that would appeal to his/her tastes. For Rodney's birthday, I wasn't quite sure what he would prefer because he's such a fan of everything. Oatmeal raising cookies, cakes, chocolate chip cookies, NUTS (I think it's great that he's not adverse to nuts like so many people these days!) and given too many choices, I can never make a decision. I ended up settling on Pecan Pie Cupcakes from the wonderful Bake or Break blog.
Because the reviews had described the cake as more muffin-like, I tried to employ some normal cupcake techniques to lighten up the cake a bit (although judging from the end result, I should modified the recipe even more!) I creamed softened butter and the brown sugar instead of using melted butter. I was also making full-sized cupcakes so I doubled the quantities from the recipe.
I haven't made the original recipe, so I'm not quite certain how similar or different they are, but I feel it was still a pretty dense cake. Maybe it was because it's chock full of pecans?
I tried a new salted caramel frosting because I didn't want to fuss with the entire caramel making process this time as I did for cousin Lib's birthday -- time was of the essence!! This recipe was quite easy to make, but a little more buttery than I would like. The mouthfeel of the last salted caramel frosting was definitely more agreeable. Alas, these sacrifices are what you make in the lurch! Thankfully, the combination of the cake and the frosting was a hit. Some people quite enjoyed the buttery quality of both the cake and frosting, so I lucked out. I probably won't be making this exact recipe again, but it is definitely a solid flavor combination that one should try.

Happy Birthday, Daj!

2008-08-18T20:56:00.000-07:00

There are certain foods that we associate with certain people, and aside from Thrifty's Butter Pecan ice cream, Sara Lee pound cake is what I associate most with my mother. We were never a household with too much junk food -- and my siblings and I usually weren't bratty children who screamed at the top of our lungs for Oreos or sour straws anyway for fear of our parents' wrath -- but every once in awhile, there would be a frozen pound cake, nestled in that tell-tale foil pan. It was a delight that in our family of six would never last long. Still, it is a fond memory of childhood that with a slowing metabolism and a more discerning eye for ingredients I no longer partake in, but tasting Ina Garten's Strawberry Country Cake brought me back.

Strawberries were already growing aplenty back in May and there were some crazy deals at the farmers market -- a half flat for $6! You can't beat the price, but can you eat all that?? I ended up trying this recipe after trolling the internet for something to make with my plenitude of berries and several people touted its deliciousness on Serious Eats. I brought it to a last minute informal dinner and it was so simple, yet so satisfying. Like a strawberry shortcake without the hard biscuit, it incorporates lightly sweetened whipped cream with juicy strawberries and a rich cake. Just three components, but the sum is far greater than its parts. And the cake! Ohhhh, I could eat it for days! The cake is lightly hinted with lemon and orange zest which I think gives the cake some added dimension.

The recipe actually yields two cakes as it recommends you halve the contents of one 8" cake pan to build your cake. I used a 9" pan the first time, which turned out quite well, but I would have liked some more height to the cake, especially because I left the sides unfrosted though everyone was still delighted with the results. For my sister's birthday, she requested this wonderfully fragrant cake and because it also keeps well in the freezer (unfrosted of course), I was able to assemble it right before her birthday dinner to culminate a weekend trip to San Diego. Because it was a special occasion, I thought a taller cake would be more appropriate so instead of halving each cake, I used both cakes. I did use more whipped cream and more strawberries, yet there was probably still too much cake per bite. I didn't think that could possibly happen, and it was definitely tasty enough, but Ina got it right the first time. I think I'll stick to the halved cake and just keep the other cake in the freezer for a rainy day, and so it's perfect when an occasion comes up out of the blue. Definitely a solid recipe to keep in your arsenal.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...

2008-08-17T13:39:00.000-07:00

It's a warm summer's morning. I'm relaxed with a large iced decaf coffee from Groundwork in hand, savoring the smell of freshly popped kettle corn and lovingly gazing at stone fruit, but still walking purposefully toward him. I see him, but does he see me? The sea of visor-clad shoppers towing baskets of perfect peaches and beautiful leafy greens part, and we make eye contact.

He smiles and my heart skips a beat.

I know what he means--he's got what I want.

Yes, I am a lucky girl. Today I get my pick of four, count 'em FOUR, cartons of white, brown, and blue-green egss of varying sizes, still speckled with chicken waste. This doesn't deter me from purchasing them at all. In fact, I'm kind of excited by it. I mean, how much fresher can you get?

At any given time, you will find at least two cartons of eggs in my refrigerator. At this moment, there are actually three -- one of cage-free, large store bought eggs, and two from the farmers market. My cholesterol levels must be through the roof, right? Actually, I think it's pretty under control. I'm partial to pastured eggs which have been reported to have considerably less cholesterol than the normal eggs you find at the supermarket, and considerably more deliciousness, in my opinion. The organic, cage-free, or free-range eggs that are at Whole Foods, Trader Joe's, and the like are an improvement from other factory farmed eggs, but that terminology has pretty much been rendered useless. Organic simply means that the chickens are fed organic feed. Cage-free means that the little peckers may not be in cages, but they could be kept in very confined quarters with thousands of others, mutilating each other or contracting diseases. Free-range means that the chickens have access to the outdoors, but that could just be a tiny door to the yard that the chickens don't even know to go through.
I'm not saying my way is the right way, but with this knowledge, I prefer not to even deal with misleading USDA jargon and get my eggs from the farmers market. I've purchased eggs from every supplier there, and have definitely picked my favorite. There's no way I'm going to reveal its identity either, because they only have a few dozen each week and I get there before 8:30 just to increase the odds that there'll be any when I get there -- I have been disappointed MANY a time. Some days, he is all sold out by the time I get there (which is always before 9am). Other days, the chickens just haven't laid enough eggs and he has to save a couple dozen for other farmer's market vendors (See! The eggs are that good!) When I do score a dozen, my heart soars and I break out into a grin that cannot be wiped away.
Because these eggs are completely and utterly delicious by themselves, they are so suited to being prepared my favorite style -- pan fried over medium. And isn't everything better with a little oozing yolk on top? Croque madames, pastas, hash dishes... As soon as the egg lands in the heated pan, I am in awe. The slight spread of the egg white. The height and deep orange hue of the yolk. It is a sight to behold and so unlike a regular egg. And the taste? Incomparably rich. I don't need a vegetarian fed hen -- the little bugs and insects that the chickens feast on make all the difference in the color and taste of the yolk.
I still keep the standard large eggs around for baking as the volume of the pastured eggs can vary so much, but these oblong orbs of heaven are the apple of my eye (especially the blue-green Araucana variety!). Instead of standing at the kitchen counter, wolfing down a bowl of cold cereal, I create a more well-rounded meal with the egg being the highlight. I savor it at the table and sop up the smooth and creamy yolk with pita or brioche leaving nothing to waste. The ritual makes all the difference in my morning.
I'm sure an ode to such a basic food sounds excessive, but I truly love it, and for those that live to eat, shouldn't every dish spark such enthusiasm?

Pistachio Cupcakes

2008-08-12T12:37:00.000-07:00

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks, what with moving someone out, and then moving someone new in. And it’s always an adjustment taking on a new roommate no matter how easy-going one is. What is their bathroom routine like? How anal is she about dishes in the sink? What’s the best way to communicate with him? And there’s always the lingering suspicion that they may not as they seem and sooner or later they will flip out and show their true colors.
Then there is the huge task of incorporating their belongings in with one’s own. With a pretty stocked kitchen already, this process is daunting. My cousin didn’t take anything with him to New York, so the kitchen is still stocked with the belongings of 3 persons, and there wasn’t even enough storage space to begin with!
Amid the moving headache, a friend had requested pistachio cupcakes like the ones at Crumbs for her upcoming birthday. It’s been awhile since I had brought those to the office so I wasn’t entirely sure what they were like anymore. Cream cheese frosting? Buttercream? Nuts in the cake? Almond flavor? Well the online menu says vanilla sponge cake filled and frosted with pistachio buttercream, but I was quite certain I tasted a hint of almond in the cake before. I ended up taking the Billy’s Vanilla Cupcake recipe and adding a bit of almond extract and frosting it with the pistachio buttercream from Epicurious.
As always is the case with the Billy’s recipe, I was bracing myself for exploding cupcakes. I’m not sure it it’s because the butter hadn’t distributed itself evenly usually, or if the soufflé cups were too full, but there have been a few trials were 75% of the cupcakes were disgusting messes. This time I was careful to barely fill the cups halfway and I took great care in incorporating the butter without overbeating. Only a few casualties!
This was actually my first time making buttercream, but though the reviews were mixed, the recipe still sounded solid. It’s a fussy and time-consuming process, but I recommend starting the buttercream just before the cupcakes (if you’re planning on making it the same day) so that the half-and-half, pistachio mixture can cool, and then the cupcakes can cool while the pastry cream is also being brought to room temperature.
The cupcakes turned out wonderfully and everyone adored them, however next time I might try to incorporate pistachios into the actual cake. Maybe fill them with some kind of cream or fruit filling? Pistachio and chocolate is such a great combination so maybe a chocolate cream filling or frosting? The possibilities are endless so stay tuned.

Almond Cupcakes
adapted from Billy's Vanilla, Vanilla Cupcakes via Martha Stewart

about 24 cupcakes (although the recipe says 30, I've never had it yield so many)

1 3/4 cup cake flour (not self-rising)
1 1/4 unbleached all-purpose flour
2 cups sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, slightly softened, cut into 1-inch cubes
4 large eggs, room temperature
1 cup whole milk, room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon almond extract

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Line cupcake pans with paper liners; set aside. (I used souffle cups baked on a baking sheet.) In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine flours, sugar, baking powder, and salt; mix on low speed until combined. Add butter, mixing until just coated with flour.

2. In a large glass measuring cup, whisk together eggs, milk, and vanilla. With mixer on medium speed, add wet ingredients in 3 parts, scraping down sides of bowl before each addition; beat until ingredients are incorporated but do not overbeat.

3. Divide batter evenly among liners, filling about 2/3 full. If using 4 3/4" souffle cups, fill slightly over half full. Bake, rotating pan halfway through, until a cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean, 17 to 20 minutes.

4. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely. Repeat process with remaining batter. An advantage of using temperamental souffle cups is being able to fit more cupcakes (and maybe even all) at one time, allowing all the cupcakes to rise similarly instead of the normal not-quite-as-tall second batch. Frost with Pistachio Buttercream.

Pistachio Buttercream Frosting
from epicurious.com

1 1/4 cups half-and-half
3/4 cup unsalted pistachio nuts
1/2 cup sugar
4 large egg yolks
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1. Bring half and half and pistachios to boil in heavy small saucepan. Remove from heat; cover and let stand 1 hour. Whisk sugar, yolks and flour in medium bowl to blend. Bring half and half mixture to simmer; gradually whisk into yolk mixture.Return to same saucepan; stir over medium heat until mixture bubbles thickly, about 5 minutes. Mix in vanilla. Transfer to processor; blend until nuts are very finely chopped. Transfer pistachio pastry cream to bowl. Cover and cool to room temperature, about 2 hours.

2. Using electric mixer, beat unsalted butter in large bowl until fluffy. Add pastry cream by 1/4 cupfuls, beating well after each addition. (Can be prepared 2 days ahead. Cover and refrigerate. Bring to room temperature before using.)

Second time not such a charm

2008-07-31T19:58:00.000-07:00

Argh! First big failure since my overflowing Billy's Vanilla Cupcakes. And this was for something I’ve made before, and was so simple! Chocolate Idiot Cake (also known as a better Flourless Chocolate Cake than they have at Sweet Lady Jane, if that even means anything anymore). C’mon. The name says it all. Even an idiot can make it!

Apparently not.

Well I wouldn’t want to discourage anyone from making this, because it really is the simplest of simple desserts featuring only 4 ingredients that even people who don’t care for flourless chocolate cake enjoy, and I know that my error lies in the unfortunate seeping of water into my springform pan. So you hear that kids? Double – or even triple – wrap your foil around the bottom of the pan to make sure water does not mix with your possibly not-air-tight springform pan. It's not pudding, it's cake! Sigh. Number two is in the oven right now.

Okay. So water got into the pan the second time too. What is going on? Why was my first attempt so successful, and subsequent tries have been failures? The recipient of the cake was actually quite fanatical about this cake ("I don't want to eat another flourless chocolate cake again, unless it's this one") so perhaps it wasn't a complete failure, but when you have a certain idea of how something is supposed to turn out, yielding a different result is simply disheartening. How skilled is one as a baker if they cannot produce a consistent product?

The best chocolate chip cookies that have ever come from my kitchen

2008-07-27T19:14:00.000-07:00

I take pride in disseminating information that I think the recipient will find interesting or useful. I think sometimes people mistake it as favoritism – special treatment with a wink – and maybe it is, to an extent (I mean, I don’t bother with people I don’t like), but the truth of the matter is I just want to be helpful. I have a very reliable circle of friends and family who do the same for me, so when I was linked to David Leite’s article in the New York Times for the best-ever chocolate chip cookies a couple Wednesdays ago, I immediately perked up and mentally shelved this recipe for near-future use. (I would have found this article on my own later that day, but there’s a certain satisfaction when someone knows you well enough to recognize information that you will find fascinating.) I’ve enjoyed the City Bakery chocolate chip cookie on both coasts, witnessed the glory of a Levain Bakery cookie on Throwdown with Bobby Flay, and became enlightened about the powers of a little extra salt in or on a cookie from Dorie Greenspan with those addictive little Korovas, so a recipe taking bits and pieces from all those solid creations was completely enticing. What occasion can I make these for??? Lucky for him (and me), the friend that sent me the link also had the birthday coming up soonest so what better way to salute such a generous friend than with such amazing-sounding treats?
I decided I would try to follow the recipe to a T, if just once, to accurately evaluate the recipe. I bought the bread flour and knew where to get the feves, but unfortunately, I didn’t have time to get them. Time was counting down as I had to send the cookies by a certain day in order for the cookies not to arrive ridiculously late so I ended up making the dough early enough for it to rest for 36 hours. After a looooong internal dilemma about whether or not to just chop up good bittersweet chocolate, I said “NO! I am going to do this right!” and proceeded to call the stores in West Hollywood that could potentially carry couverture quality chocolate. Bristol Farms only had White and Milk Chocolate discs, Cost Plus World Market had no idea what I was talking about (although I saw that they do, indeed, carry Guittard 61% couverture a few days later), and I didn’t even think of Sur La Table at the time (you can get it there as well).
On baking morning on my way to work, I was able to stop by Surfas where I knew they had what I was looking for, and was even overwhelmed with their selection. Valrhona 62%? 74%? 87%? Cacao-Barry 66%? 72? Mahogany flavors or vanilla notes? Madagascar or the Dominican Republic?? In the end I settled on Cacao-Barry from Africa for $17 for 2 lbs. Eeek. My main concern though, was that the chocolate flavors hadn’t also been flavoring the dough for the last 36 hours. I wasn’t able to mix the couverture in until right before baking, so I hope that didn’t affect the overall taste of the product. I really don’t think it did, because it was absolutely the best chocolate chip cookie I have ever made. This variety isn’t really my favorite kind, but certain self-proclaimed chocolate chip cookie connoisseurs have declared this the best they’ve had as well. The recipe yielded a gorgeous caramel brown specimen with crispy edges that had the most delicious buttery quality to them and I found myself craving those edge pieces, though I usually prefer soft chocolate chip cookies. The 36 hour respite in the fridge definitely produced a more flavorful dough and this practice is soooooo worth it.
Could it be that any dough's awesomeness would increase exponentially when refrigerated? I'll have to try it with other recipes, but for now, this is IT.

Hi, my name is Patricia

2008-07-26T19:05:00.000-07:00

For my 16th birthday, I was given some baking sheets, a sifter, a pastry cutter, and some other baking paraphernalia that eludes me right now. It was just about the most exciting gift I had received up to that point and it was simply because I was in the middle of my teenage baking kick and my life’s pleasure at that point was trying out new recipes. I remember making fantastic “healthy” nectarine yogurt muffins, and failing miserably at bread-making (which still plagues me). The baking urge died off, and fast forward 9 years later – I receive baking tools yet again. I am in the throws of passionate love with baking yet again and I was elated with this thoughtful present once more. The difference is I don’t think this enthusiasm is going to die soon. Armed with dozens of recipes from blogs, funds for better ingredients and baking equipment, and the support of so many friends, the flames are just being fanned and the new goal is to make something of this hobby.
Growing up, as is typical with many Chinese households, our oven served as more storage space for pots and pans (not baking pans of course). My grandmother didn’t bake, my mother didn’t bake, so my baking idol was probably Debbie Fields when the Food Network was still the TV Food Network. And when I finally did feel compelled to try recipes out on my own, I was faced with the reality that we had no baking supplies! No mixer, no measuring cups or spoons!
Somehow, probably through the cooking prowess of my older sisters, we eventually acquired the bare necessities for baking (a muffin pan, a wooden spoon, measuring devices) and debuted onto the baking scene with Betty Crocker and Duncan Hines. You have to start somewhere, right? And without any household guidance in that department, boxed mixes were excitement enough.
Luckily, my repertoire has moved beyond stirring eggs and oil into an artificially colored powdery substance (although even those were a great lesson in the importance of accurate oven temperatures), and I have no intentions of going back. I roam the blogosphere these days and so many recipes from Deb at smittenkitchen or Molly at Orangette are such revelations – I want to try them all!!! One day – and hopefully not too far in the future I will bake my sisters’ wedding cakes (although with our record, who knows!). And that will still only be the beginning.