It all began in bulk...

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.

Morning perfection.

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.

The height of Summer.

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.

Slightly tardy, completely worth it.

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.