TWD: Cranberry Pistachio Tart

It's pet peeve time, here on the Engineer Baker. And I'd bet so so many of you share one of mine - that one that crops up whenever you read reviews of recipes online, or receive emails from people who've tried your recipes. C'mon, you don't know where I'm going with this? Well, here's a hint - this tart? It's supposed to be a "rosy poached pear and pistachio tart." Doesn't really look like one, does it?

Exactly. Those reviewers who "try a recipe" and say they hate it. Oh, but they used 1/4 of the sugar called for, replaced the butter with butter flavored spread (or *shudder* applesauce), cooked it in a crockpot instead of in the oven, and oh don't forget that they also used iceberg lettuce instead of spinach. Because, y'know, that's all they had on hand. But they HATED IT. *dislike dislike dislike* Makes you want to smack them upside the head, doesn't it? Because hello, butter always tastes better, crockpots are for stews, and iceberg lettuce is only good when drenched in bleu cheese dressing and maybe with some bacon on top.


But this is a redeeming story, I promise. We're all about redemption and happiness and kittens 'round here, right? Right. Because this tart was fabulous. Fab-u-lous. There's buttery buttery tart dough (my hands-down favorite tart dough ever), not-too-sweet cranberry pomegranate compote, and caramelized pistachios. Yes, yes, and yes. I know it's no red-wine poached pear, but to be honest, I like my pears tasting of, well, pear. Not wine. And pastry cream? That requires whisking and work and stuff, whereas compote requires sitting. And right now, I'm a big fan of sitting. Bonus! while sitting, you get to hear cranberries go POP. POP. POPPOPPOP. Seriously one of the best sounds ever. Right up there with bacon sizzling and soup burbling.

Yeah, yeah, I know this is supposed to be Tuesdays with Dorie, not Saturdays with Dorie. But work and sickness and lethargy have been kicking my ass the last few days, so you get what you get. Cranberry-pomegranate compote. Pistachios. Tastiness. What more could you want? Oh, right. The source of those pistachios. Because really, what with the tiredness and crankiness and all, the idea of shelling a few dozen pistachios was not really top of my list. Luckily, the superawesomekindgenerous people over at Oh Nuts! sent me a bag of raw shelled pistachios along with other goodies which will be showing up throughout the next few weeks. These are seriously awesome. Dangerously awesome. Because once you no longer have to shell them (the worst part of eating nuts, in my opinion) they are ridiculously easy to mainline. And without the added salt, they don't make your lips burn after eating large amounts of them, not that that has ever happened to me...

Last Week: All in One Holiday Bundt Cake
Next Week: Sables

November DB Challenge: Cannoli

Okay, so I would really like to thank Lisa Michele for picking cannoli for this month's Daring Baker challenge. But, um, I can't. You see, cannoli are the fiance's favorite dessert. Those huge ones you get at restaurants? He calls those one-biters. Yes, those go down in one bite. That's it, and done.


So learning that I could make cannoli at home was a dangerous thing for him to know. And then knowing that they were 342197 times better than the ones you can buy? Uh oh. He finished them off, and looked at me - "So when are you going to make these again?"


Sigh. Now, I'm not really afraid of deep frying, so that wasn't the problem. And really, I cheated with the filling by not draining the ricotta. All you need to do then is fill them just before you want to eat them - not draining the ricotta makes for a lighter, looser filling than the recipe called for, and both of us appreciated that. I also cheated for a couple of the rounds by frying them flat and just shattering off corners, slathering filling on, and scattering a few pistachios over the top before eating them. Oh so wonderful, and minus the chance of filling squishing or cannoli shells shattering.


So what was the problem? This might mean I need to buy cannoli forms. Because those cute, squat cannoli you see? They were formed around a toilet paper tube that had been covered in aluminum foil. And they were huge. I was laughing with Y and Hilda on Twitter about how big they'd be, and how I wouldn't be able to eat even one of them. Well, the fiance ate two. TWO! And if he can eat two of these monsters, I have this sinking feeling that if I make them again I'll barely manage to fry them fast enough to keep up with mr. cannoli-monster.


In the end though, I think it was totally worth it. Both of us agreed that this cannoli shell recipe made for lighter and crisper shells than other recipes and shells we've seen. And being able to make our own filling meant that it wasn't overly dense, creamy, or sweet. If we wanted chocolate shards in the filling, we threw them in. If not, we stuck with a simple sprinkling of pistachios on the ends. Now I guess I just need to get those cannoli forms...

The November 2009 Daring Bakers Challenge was chosen and hosted by Lisa Michele of Parsley, Sage, Desserts and Line Drives. She chose the Italian Pastry, Cannolo (Cannoli is plural), using the cookbooks Lidia’s Italian-American Kitchen by Lidia Matticchio Bastianich and The Sopranos Family Cookbook by Allen Rucker; recipes by Michelle Scicolone, as ingredient/direction guides. She added her own modifications/changes, so the recipe is not 100% verbatim from either book.

TWD: All-in-One Holiday Bundt Cake

I think the guys at work are getting a bit greedy. Just last week, they asked for cheesecake. Cheesecake! For 25 full-grown men! (Although in their defense, they did offer to pitch in and help pay for it.) But I'm wondering if I'm spoiling them. All these cakes and cookies, pies and tarts - what will they do in a year or so when I rotate out of this position? What will happen when the next department process engineer just buys them pizza?? And donuts from the grocery store? Ugh.

Although maybe I'm being a bit elitist. They probably like pizza. And donuts. Luckily, it just so happens that they also like cookies. And cake - oh, how they love cake. I brought in a chocolate sheet cake for my birthday, and people made sandwiches out of it. For serious. 3" x 3" hunk of cake, slather on some frosting, then another 3" x 3" cake square on top of it. Inhale. Sometimes I wonder how more of them don't have diabetes given how much sugar they eat when I bring treats around!


And luckily, they really like fall flavors. Because hoo-wee, does this have fall flavors. Pumpkin and pecans and spices, cranberries and apples and more spices - Dorie's got fall dessert down here. Now I must admit, I made changes (of course!) - I reduced the amount of apples, although I'd reduce it even more next time since it got a bit too moist the second day. I doubled the spices, because I always do with her recipes and because I don't have a subtle palate when it comes to fall spices. I want them to scream cinnamon and nutmeg, ginger and allspice! Oh, and I doubled the cranberries, even though it made me want to scream when I was painstakingly halving each of them.

The verdict from those greedy, greedy guys? Quite the acceptable substitute for pumpkin pie, which I find a ringing endorsement. Pumpkin pie is, to me, the epitome of fall and Thanksgiving desserts, so anything that comes close satisfaction-wise is a winner in my book. Now on to that pumpkin cheesecake. And the oatmeal raisin cookies. And chocolate cake. Oh, and we can't forget the pizza and doughnuts, because those are required no matter what. *sigh*


Last Week: Molasses SPICE Cookies (as an endorsement, batch #3 in three weeks is in my fridge right now - now with more spices!)
Next Week: Rosy Poached Pear and Pistachio Tart (Warning, I'm changing this one up. A lot.)

TWD: Molasses SPICE Cookies

There are very few things to be said about these cookies. Oh, and they're all good things. Let's just say, for starters, that they're the only recipe that I've posted on here twice. And the first time? My very first real post (eek!). So onto the new things about these cookies:


I didn't make them the size Dorie recommends, because that seemed ridiculous. It's seriously plate-sized if you divide the dough like she does. If you want a more manageable cookie, go with a small cookie scoop, and you'll get much more reasonably sized cookies. Which means you can eat three times as many as you would have before. Don't say I didn't warn you!

I doubled all the spices. As in, I halved the cookie recipe, and then disregarded the halving of any and all spice measurements. It was a good thing. Even after a couple days of mellowing, these puppies had kick. There was a slight burn in the back of my throat after eating each one, and that made me happy.


I baked my smaller cookies for 12 minutes. That way, they were slightly underbaked, and oh-so-wonderfully chewy. My suggestion is to bake them until they're not quite done, just barely set. Let them sit on the cookie sheet for a minute, then slide off onto the cooling rack. Yes, slide. Otherwise, they fall apart.

Oh, and the final note? MAKE THESE. If you want a chewy, spicy molasses cookie, these are your holy grail. Just bring along that holy hand grenade and counteth to three, mkay?


PS - Shameless self promotion time! Please go over to Bon Appetit and vote for my Thimble Cookies in their Blog Envy Holiday Baking Contest - you know you wanna!

Last Week: Cran-Apple Crisp
Next Week: All-in-One Holiday Bundt Cake

Jam Thimble Cookies

Whenever I hear about how blogging is ruining the internet, magazines, restaurants, or whathaveyou, I get a little smile on my face. It's just a quirk to the side of my mouth, a little twinkle in my eye. Because really, how egotistical do they think most bloggers are? We aren't here to take down Gourmet or Bon Appetit! Most of us just want that little corner of the world in which to share a little of ourselves. I think. I mean, please raise your hand if you feel like taking over the world. I thought about it for a bit, and decided that was way too much work. That's when I began baking and blogging - much easier, and I still have time for eight hours of sleep! WIN!


And in the midst of all this baking and blogging and sharing, I realized that I've crossed a barrier. This barrier? It's like the freaking Great Wall of China here - I don't want you to think this is anything less than monumental. You want to know what it is? I'm mushy. I've become friends with people in this little corner of the internets. Friends! With people I have a 34876324 * 10 ^ -789334 chance of meeting, for the most part! And when they hurt, or bad things happen, I just want to fly to them and hug them. I want to cry with them, talk to them about it, and provide any means of comfort I can.


Why is this such a fantastical thing? Why am I devoting an entire post to it, when I obviously have better things to talk about, like how guys on the floor refuse to eat cake without frosting, or have unhealthy obsessions with hunting, fishing, and Packer football? Because this is so not me. Yes, I was in a sorority, but dear god - there was no way I was getting involved in the giggling and dressing up and makeup and deargodtheamountofpink that went on. But comment by comment, email by email, you guys have softened me up. I address some of you as sweetie or hon, end messages with xxoo, and oh my is this not normal. But it's good, I swear. Those of you on Twitter with me were the first (the first!) to know about my engagement, the first to see my wedding dress. This is good for me, good for the soul.


That's why I'm on this blog, truly. It isn't just to have my little corner of the internets to share baking exploits. It isn't, by any means, so that I can take down some big media conglomerate (although wouldn't that be fun? just not the nice ones. we'd spare the nice ones, right?). Piece by piece, I'm becoming a better me, a more approachable me.


And so I want to share these with you. Thumbprint cookies. They are, with zero false modesty, the best damned thimble cookies you will ever eat. It's my great grandmother's recipe - a buttery dough, rolled in crushed walnuts, and baked. Filled with a dollop of raspberry jam, these are my gift to you. Get thee unto the kitchen and bake. Bake these, and as you're popping them in your mouth (they are eminently pop-able) remember - these are hugs. My hugs to you. Because dear lord, do you think I'm made of money? There's no way I can come visit all of you. But I can surely share these, my ultimate favorite cookie. Share them with those you love, because they're worth it. And I don't mean just the cookies.


Oh, oh! And at the risk of sounding silly after all this, I just wanted to mention one little thing. This is my entry into Bon Appetit's Blog Envy Holiday Baking Contest. And while I think all of you are super awesome, I hope you think the same of me. Or at least of my cookies. So I would love to have you go vote for my entry into the contest. Because really, these cookies are amazing.

Thimble Cookies

1 cup butter (2 sticks, 16 Tablespoons), at room temperature
1/2 cup dark brown sugar (go ahead, use light if you want - I just never keep it on hand)
2 eggs, separated
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups walnuts, finely chopped (for the love of god, do this in the food processor. it'll help maintain sanity)
Raspberry jam, for filling (okay, you can use other jam, but really, why would you?)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and get out a cookie sheet or two. No greasing, no parchment paper. My great grandma wasn't into fussy baking.

Using a stand mixer or hand-held electric mixer, beat the butter until smooth, then add in the brown sugar. Cream until light and fluffy, 1-2 minutes. Mix in the egg yolks one at a time, then add in the vanilla. Switch to a spatula and add in the flour, mixing until just combined.

I used a small cookie scoop (2 tsp) for this next step, but most times I just use two spoons. Form the dough into balls, about 1 1/2" in diameter. Dip them in the egg whites, then in the walnuts, rolling them so the entire cookie is coated in walnuts.

Place the cookies on the ungreased cookie sheet. These don't spread much at all, so feel free to leave as little as 1-2 inches between the cookies. Using your thumb, indent the center of each dough ball, making a deeper impression than you think you'll want in the end - these do puff a bit, so you'll lose some definition during baking.

Bake for 12-14 minutes. Edges will begin to look a slight golden brown, and you should really smell the brown sugar and nuts. Tops of the cookies will look dry, but not very browned. Cool cookies on a rack.

Once the cookies are cool, fill with 1/2 tsp raspberry jam each.

Makes ~40 cookies.

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.)