TWD: Cran-Apple Crisp

Cranberries. If you're like 90% of the US population, your first thought is that jellied cranberry sauce that comes around on Thanksgiving. It schloops out of the can, and you can cut perfect rounds of it, using the ripples from the tin can as guides. And at the risk of alienating people, I love that jellied cranberry sauce. It's perfect for making sandwiches with - some turkey, a little stuffing, gravy, and a round of that sauce. Make it open faced, and it's a fork-and-knife reminder of how awesome Thanksgiving foods are.


But no worries - my taste buds have matured past that cranberry jelly. Now I crave cranberries in other forms - cakes, scones, muffins, chutneys, chunky sauces, and crisps. So when Em picked the cran-apple crisp, I nearly danced with joy. I did, in fact, immediately head to the stores to buy bags and bags of cranberries. Well, just two, but still! Lo and behold though, I ran out of time to make them the weekend the bf and I were at my apartment. Instead of carting the bags of cranberries, I figured I'd buy some when I got to Madison.

But... but... I couldn't find any! This is a disaster of epic proportions!! Not only could I not make the crisps, I couldn't make any other cranberry goodies I wanted to - the scones! the muffins! the quick breads! I was, to say the least, distraught. So I did what any reasonable person does in this situation - I hunted down a produce person and grilled them about the projected ship date of said cranberries. C'mon, Wisconsin is the largest producer of cranberries in the US - we should have cranberries!!!


So you can understand my sheepishness when he, um, pointed to a corner (very small! tucked away! darkly lit!) where there were bags of cranberries. I quickly got over my embarrassment (you have to, if things like this happen to you very often), grabbed two more bags of cranberries, and zipped back to the bf's apartment. Scant hours later, a cran-apple crisp was born. Angels rejoiced. And I was a very. very. happy person.


Disclaimer: I upped the cranberries by 50%, because I lurve them. I'd probably double them next time though, as cranberries are not better in moderation. Coconut wasn't getting anywhere near this crisp topping, so I doubled the amount of oats in it instead - no harm done. And, even though I might again be stoned for saying this, I'd probably halve the amount of crisp topping next time. I like topping with my apples, not vice versa.

Last Week: Chestnut Cake, Plain and Simple
Next Week: Sugar Topped Molasses Spice Cookies (second time around, and these are still drop-dead tasty - MAKE THEM)

TWD: Chestnut Cake, Plain and Simple

Now, I have to preface this. Especially since it doesn't really look like the showstopper of a chocolate chestnut caramel cake that Katya picked. I went on a quest. I found chestnut cream. I found whole peeled chestnuts. On a special trip to Whole Foods. And I paid out the nose for them.


And then I opened the book, began reading how to make the ganache, and realized (shit!) that it needed a rest in the fridge. Overnight. Let's say that hypothetically I was baking at the bf's apartment and it was Sunday afternoon, mkay? And our first ballroom dancing lesson (!!) was in a few hours. Ganache nixed. Upon looking at the rest of the recipe, I said to heck with it. I didn't feel like fussy. I had made bolognese the day before, and was already making a bread (Italian bread, from the Bread Baker's Apprentice) that took two days, and dangit, those were complicated enough!


Cake only then. Check. Cream butter, add brown sugar, add... shit. Only one egg. Quick run to the grocery, then continue on - egg yolks, chestnut cream (which smells fabulous, by the way), etc, etc. Into the pan - yikes, that seems a little full... Ah well, it must not rise much. Fifteen minutes later, check oven - SHITSHIT! Major muffin top action going on, followed by feverish finger crossing that it won't overflow (although I even remembered to put a pan underneath!). 48 minutes later, I tapped the top of the cake. It, um, rippled. Like, there was serious wave action going on with the top of that cake. Ten minutes at a time, I got to around 80 minutes before it was completely done. Pulled it out, and immediately had the d'oh reaction when I noticed I had an 8x8" pan rather than 9x9". Yep, that'd make the difference!


But was it worth it? Just the cake? So simple - a brown sugar cake, a cup of chestnut cream, and that's it?


Oh yes, yes it is. On smell alone, the bf got puppy dog eyes when I mentioned that I was taking it home with me so I could take pictures. Which led to taking pictures early and leaving the cake with him. I did get an edge that broke off, and oh my goodness chestnut, where have you been all my life? Sweet but not too sweet, deeply flavored, nutty, and pleasantly dense. The verdict? Don't shy away from this cake just because you don't want to make all the components. The cake is reason enough to make it, and just make the parts you want to or have time to make.


Last Week: Cherry Fudge Brownie
Next Week: Cran-Apple Crisps (first cranberry recipe the bf has ever liked. ever.)

October DB Challenge: Pumpkin Spice Macarons

We all knew this day would come - the day that a Daring Baker host would choose macarons. Luckily, I've been practicing (not really for this day though), so I wasn't quite as worried as many others. You see, I'm an odd combination of precise and haphazard in the kitchen. Things that aren't really fussy, like bread and cookies and cakes, I don't spoon and level flour. I don't measure vanilla. Eggs are not at room temperature. And butter, more often than not, is half-melty from being warmed to room temperature next to the oven set to 200 degrees.

But other things, fiddly things? Oh yes, that is why I own a scale. For when I realize that I have 100 g of egg whites, not 90 g, so I will need to increase my tant pour tant (almond / confectioners sugar mixture) by 11%. Well, 11.111111% (11 1/9), but my scale isn't quite that exact! Macarons are also why I have an oven thermometer, just in case. And I have a nice little template to pipe my macarons on, just so that they're all the same size and bake at the same rate. Fiddly things bring out the spreadsheets and calculators in me, what can I say?


And I love it. I love the precise nature of baking macarons, followed by the freedom that comes from asking what flavor the next batch will be. I've made hazelnut macarons, chocolate, coffee, almond, pecan, and now spice. Not too much spice, so I didn't overwhelm the almond flavor - just 1/4 tsp of ground ginger and 1/8 tsp each of nutmeg (fresh ground!), cinnamon, and cloves. They smelled like fall. And what would be better to fill them with than my new bff gingered pumpkin cream cheese frosting?

Yes, I'm in love with cream cheese frosting. If it weren't for pesky people wanting chocolate or vanilla cakes at my wedding, I'd make all spice and carrots cakes, slathered with ginger-y cream cheese frosting. But this new discovery - adding a couple tablespoons of pureed pumpkin to my standard cream cheese frosting? Oh yes. This is special. Not only for the faint but gorgeous orangey color, but the slightly savory note in the frosting makes this extra special. Which is good, since I have, oh, maybe a couple cups of it left over :)


Disclosure: I tried the challenge recipe, chosen by Ami. Once. It didn't work - much too wet, and since it didn't give weights for egg whites, it made me nervous. So I went back to my standard macaron recipe, based on Helen's, which I have a very high success rate with. It's fiddly and precise, and I like that.

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting

8 oz cream cheese, left at room temperature overnight
2-3 Tablespoons pureed pumpkin
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 1/2 - 2 cups powdered sugar

Using a hand mixer, combine the cream cheese, pumpkin, and ginger until smooth. Slowly add the powdered sugar until you reach a pipeable consistency.

The 2009 October Daring Bakers’ challenge was brought to us by Ami S. She chose macarons from Claudia Fleming’s The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern as the challenge recipe.

TWD: Cherry Fudge Brownie

I grew up in Indiana, northern Indiana to be specific. So when we talked about summer fruit, it was all about the blueberries. We'd buy the 5 pound boxes of blueberries, and I'd happily sit with a book and the entire box and snack on them for hours at a time. Hey, it has to be better than snacking on chips or candy! At the end of the blueberry season (*sob*), my mom would buy a box or two and we'd pack them away into bags and into one of the freezers (yes, multiple freezers - preserving and raising livestock for slaughter will do that to you). All those bags of blueberries would hold me over until the next blueberry season, when I would happily gorge myself on the plump little berries all over again.

So when I moved to Wisconsin, I figured - hey, same latitude as Michigan, and they grow kickass blueberries, so Wisconsin will have lots of blueberries to satisfy my habit! Um, I hate to break it to you, but no, no they don't. I can barely find those measly little boxes of blueberries - no one should be faced with mere pints of blueberries. Gallons! Buckets! Hordes! All much more suitable terms for blueberry quantities.


What they did have was cherries. Boatloads of tart cherries. Cherry jams and preserves, huge deep cherry pies, and *shudder* cherry wine. But we'll forgive them for the wine, because those cherries are damn good in pies. No more crappy cherry pie filling, I can make a quick drive up to Door County and pick of a 5 or 10 pound bag of frozen tart cherries. So since I love pie, I've been able to forgive Wisconsin for their lack of blueberries.

Until April picked the cherry fudge brownie torte though, I hadn't considered the Black Forest angle. Cherries and chocolate? Hmm... this required some thought. Well, not actually, to tell you the truth. I considered the idea for approximately 5 seconds before the "hell yeah" reaction occurred. And oh, is this a hell yeah of a dessert. I skipped the mousse on top, because nothing should get in the way of the fudgey, chocolatey, cherry dotted goodness that is this brownie. Wisconsin, I'd love you, just for your tart cherries.


Last Week: Sweet Potato Disappointment
Next Week: Chocolate Caramel Chestnut Cake

Condensed Milk Pound Cake

I'm a very bad person. And since I'm an engineer-type person, I've totally got data to prove it. Exhibit A: This condensed milk pound cake. Do you know when I made this? Three. Weeks. Ago. And I promise, you don't want to know when I finished it off. Because it was an embarrassingly short period of time after baking it. I couldn't even wait to take pictures of it before slicing in and trying some, and that's pretty rare for me. Generally, I finish making something and am so covered in butter, sugar, and flour that I can't imagine even trying what I just made. So I hand it off to others to have. But, um, this wasn't even given to the bf. Not even a taste. That's right, I kept it all for myself.


Surprisingly, I'm not generally a fan of pound cakes. They just tend to be a bit too heavy, a bit too greasy, and (please don't kill me) a bit too buttery and one-dimensional. This one though? Oh yes. It's my new favorite poundcake. It's dense, but not heavy. Sweet, but not sugary. Perfect on its own, toasted a bit, or smeared with some raspberry jam. My favorite was having it with jam though, giving it just a little bit of pop - perfection with a cup of strong black tea.

Oh, and while Veron didn't mention it, this is freaking fantastic as a breakfast, mid-morning snack, afternoon tea, or dessert. It's like the little black dress of the loaf cake world.


So I guess I'm apologizing. For holding out on you. Because really, you need to make this pound cake, immediately. And then go out and buy the book it came from, because if this is a sign of what's in Pichet Ong's book, all the recipes will be dynamite. Which reminds me, I really need to bake more things out of it now that I own it...



Condensed Milk Pound Cake

from Pichet Ong’s “The Sweet Spot”

1 cup (8 ounces/226 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus more for greasing the pan
1 1/3 cups (7 ounces/200 g) all-purpose flour
3/4 tsp. baking powder
1/2 cup (3 3/4 ounces/ 106 g) sugar
1 vanilla bean, chopped, or tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. salt
3/4 cup (8 1/2 ounces/ 239 g) sweetened condensed milk
3 large eggs

Preheat the oven 325 F. Generously butter an 8 1/2x 4 1/2 loaf pan and set aside.

Sift together the flour and baking powder and set aside.

Put the sugar and the chopped vanilla bean, if using, in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade and pulse until the vanilla bean is finely ground. Sift through a fine-mesh sieve and return the sugar mixture to the food procesor. If not using the vanilla bean, just put the sugar in the processor.

Add the butter and salt and process until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes, scraping down the sides and bottom of the bowl occasionally. Add the condensed milk and pulse until well incorporated, about 15 times, scraping down the sides of the bowl once. Add the sifted dry ingredients and pulse until no traces of flour remain, about 10 times. Add the eggs and pulse just until combined, about 5 times. Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl, add the vanilla extract if using and finish mixing by hand to fully incorporate the eggs.

Transfer the batter to the prepared loaf pan. Bake until the top is dark golden brown and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean, about 1 hour. Cool completely in the loaf an on a rack, then unmold.

TWD: Sweet Potato Disappointment

Hello pastrami reuben on rye, I love you.

Yep, you read that right. Disappointment. The idea sounded fabulous - biscuits, light and flaky, with a bit of squash-y sweet potato-y flavor to them. Instead, they were dense, vaguely sweet, and dry. So sad.

So this will mark the first time I don't even have a picture of the week's TWD pick. I made them, but was underwhelmed. So much so, that I can't in good conscience recommend them. Nor could I be inspired to take anything other than a crappy photo of them.

So instead, I'll leave you with a couple of other photos. They're from this last weekend with Jacqui (also found here, with her gorgeous photography) and Shanna in Chicago. We went on a Chicago food tour with Chicago Food Planet, and it was awesome. Seriously, the guide was amazing, we got a nice little walking tour of a couple neighborhoods (with history & architecture thrown in!) and some very generous and delicious tastings as we went. **disclosure** Thank you to Shanna for including Jacqui and me when Chicago Food Tours offered her a free tour - so worth it!

Important note - this is across the street from Anthropologie. And has BAGEL TABLES. *heart it*

They have fennel pollen at the Spice Merchants. WANT.

This shop, while it has cupcakes, wowed me more with their selection of salted butters. *jealous*

And this sign? Wiser words were never written.

And while no picture of the original Playboy mansion, I fell in love with all the stonework on this house...

Seriously, how could you say no to a proposal in front of the Cowardly Lion at Oz Park?

TWD: Allspice Crumb Muffins

No offense to Kayte, who picked these allspice crumb muffins (muffins! One bowl! Easy! Yay!), but I'm a wee bit distracted right now. Not to say that these weren't perfectly acceptable muffins. Helloooo, they have a CRUMB TOPPING! But it's just to say that they were sorta "eh" without that CRUMB TOPPING, especially because I didn't use freshly ground allspice. Oh, and my CRUMB TOPPING sorta melted together into a (tasty!) sugar coating on the top of each of my muffins. But who cares? It's CRUMB TOPPING!


Oh right, distraction. My excuse for being a wee bit scatter brained right now. Well, it started with this:


And (of course!) my answer was this:


Which meant I got this (handed down from his great grandmother!):


Well, I'll get it in a couple days. Darned fingers, with their large knuckles.


So I feel the need to apologize to Kayte for giving short shrift to these muffins with CRUMB TOPPING. Because, well, it's not her fault - they were tasty, just not quite as exciting as my weekend.

Last Week: Split Level Pudding
Next Week: Sweet Potato Biscuits