TWD: Chicory Chocolate Chip Shortbread

To say I'm unprepared to write this post would be an understatement. These cookies? I mixed them up in a frenzy of baking a whole four weeks ago. I thought I was being so smart.


1) I made a half recipe - my jeans will still fit!
2) Slice-and-bake style - I can bake them whenever I want!
3) Replace espresso with chicory - the fiance might actually eat them too!
4) Three weeks before grad school classes begin - I have time to photograph and write the post!


Yeah. You could end point 4 with - before all hell breaks loose! Because man, did it. Never did I think I'd be this out of practice with classwork and homework and weird schedules and having to work on weekends! Weekends, people, are god's gift. Ye of the working world, do not underestimate the awesomeness of weekends. Because I found myself taking a breather from my homework this last Sunday and realizing that I hadn't even baked any of these suckers yet. Let alone taken pictures. Or written a post.


No big deal, minus the pile of articles to read, the homework to do, and the 12 hours planned on campus Monday, right? Luckily, I made these much smaller than Dorie calls for in the book, so they were in and out of the oven in 9 minutes flat, all cute and speckled with mini chocolate chips which I had hidden in the freezer so the fiance wouldn't mow them down. The chicory essence gives them an almost cinnamon-y, burnt-dark taste that I love (it adds a fantastic edge to cream cheese frosting when putting said chicory cream cheese frosting on a chocolate cake. just sayin'.). And really, when you realize those cookies are about an inch in diameter, they're eminently poppable. Which is why I'm really glad that, nestled next to a couple logs of peanut butter world peace cookie dough, I have enough of this cookie dough for a couple more Sunday homework sessions.


Last Week: Crunchy and Custardy Peach Tart
Next Week: Peanut Butter Criss Crosses (because peanut butter cookie dough balls and PB korova cookie logs aren't already taking up residence in my freezer...)

TWD: Crunchy and Custardy Peach Tart

Well wow. I've been running around like a headless chicken here lately. Two weekends ago was Charleston, last weekend was South Bend, and now I'm officially at my first day of classes for grad school. Um, shitshitshit. Y'see, I have a whopping 2.5 months before the wedding, and have no idea how I'm going to fit that in with 3 classes, research, TAing and well (god forbid) having a life. Not sure at all. But at least we have officially taste tested and approved two of the four wedding cake flavors. They're good ones. Keepers. My dad complained that I've stuck him with all of the leftovers from the two flourless chocolate cake recipes we trialed, but I think he's just jealous that he's not getting the taste testers for the chocolate stout cake recipe too.


But that, of course, has nothing to do with a particularly crunchy and custardy peach tart, does it? Unfortunately, that's because this was made a whopping 3 weeks ago, before all of the traveling mayhem and when I actually had the time to go to the farmers market. I can't wait to make it back there this weekend, because I'm dreaming of all things peach - peach cobbler, peach pie, peach ice cream... Not that this wasn't a wonderful summer introduction to peaches. It was perfect - I have an inordinate love of Dorie's sweet tart crust, the peaches were perfectly ripe, and the custard wasn't too eggy and added just the right amount of richness to the whole thing. And really, you can't go wrong with almond crisp topping.


So when I need a break from the chocolate stout cakes and the carrot cakes, I think I know what to turn to. Peaches. Millions of peaches.


What, you thought I'd be able to resist? How little you know me :)

Last Week: Oatmeal Breakfast Bread
Next Week: Espresso Chocolate Shortbread Cookies

My Great Grandmother's Cornmeal Muffins

These are my great grandma's cornmeal muffins. Well, y'know, like the title of the post says. And since she was from upstate New York, I seriously hope you aren't expecting a savory, dry, or crumbly cornbread. Oh no. These muffins are cakey and sweet, with just the right amount of grit and natural sweetness from the cornmeal. I remember making pans of this cornbread whenever my dad would make chili - it's the perfect accompaniment. It's also the perfect breakfast, since it's not too sweet and has a nice heartiness to it.

Funny thing is, the way I wrote this recipe? Definitely not how it was given to me. Oh no. Just like her white bread recipe, she had one last ingredient in the list with no measurement given. You just add that ingredient "until it feels right." So that's how I started out baking. Adding flour until the bread dough felt right, adding milk until this cornbread batter was "very wet." Baking by feel, by instinct. I find it crazy, especially since so many people find baking to be such an exact science.


But that's not how my mom bakes either. When we make pie crust, she measures the flour, but then just tosses in a couple pinches of salt and some hefty spoonfuls of shortening. Once that's all cut in, little splashes of ice water go in, "until it looks right." It took me forever to feel that comfortable with pie crust. And then the filling - we'd peel apples on our back porch while she told stories of doing the exact same thing with her grandmother. We'd compete to see who could peel the whole apple without letting the strand of peel break (please tell me you do the same!). I was always impressed that she'd give me the lone peeler and use a paring knife instead. It was a moment of pride when I did the same thing with my fiance - handing him the peeler, I peeled apples with a paring knife. Chopped up apples went into a great big metal bowl and my mom would toss in a couple handfuls of flour, sugar, and whatever spices sounded good that day. Mounded into the pie crust, dotted with butter (or not, we were always forgetting that step), and covered with more crust. Milk wash, cinnamon sugar, vents cut, and into the oven it went.


No matter how much flour we put in, or sugar, or spices, those apple pies always turned out. Yes, sometimes they were runny, but who cares when you can drown your slice in vanilla ice cream? I never bothered with that though. Apple pie in all its forms is wonderful. It's the same way with these muffins. Bake them as muffins, bake them in a round cake pan, or a square pan. Have them for breakfast, warm right out of the oven. Sneak them as a snack, mid-afternoon. And you can't go wrong with wedges of it balanced on top of big bowls of chili.

It's times like this that make me glad I grew up baking. For the past few weeks, I had a craving for cornmeal muffins, but it wasn't until the fiance looked at me with exasperation and said "Just bake your own!" that I remembered I had a notecard with the recipe. Mixing it up, I did you guys a favor - I actually measured the amount of milk I put in. Because, well, you didn't grown up mixing this batter with a spoon while your mom splashed milk until it was just right. One cup of milk makes for a bit of a stiffer batter, so you could probably go to 1 1/4 cups without a problem. Just do me a favor, eh? See what it looks like, and next time - don't measure. Just go for it. It's liberating.


Cornmeal Muffins

2 cups flour
1 cup cornmeal
4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup sugar
1 cup shortening
2 eggs, beaten
1 tsp vanilla
1 - 1 1/4 cups milk

Preheat oven to 375*F.

Sift together the flour, cornmeal, baking powder, and salt.

In a separate bowl, cream together the sugar and shortening until it is pale and fluffy. Beat in the eggs and vanilla. Add the flour mixture in alternately with the milk (3 additions of flour, two of milk - always end with the dry ingredients). Fill the muffin cups 2/3 full. Bake about 15 minutes.

Makes 24.

TWD: Oatmeal Breakfast Bread

Some mornings come easily. You know, the ones where you wake up a few minutes before your alarm, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? Or even better, those lazy Sunday mornings where you turn off your alarm and just wake up when you feel like it, lolling about in bed until the idea of eggs and bacon or a hot cup of coffee pulls you out. I love those mornings, and my mornings are normally the former. Leaping out of bed at 4:30a so I can get to the YMCA when it opens at 5a? That was my standard ritual when I lived in Wisconsin. Of course, I tended to wind down earlier than most in their mid-twenties *cough*9p*cough*, but it's okay - the fiance's the same way.


But lately? Well, since I moved to Chapel Hill, I've been sleeping terribly. I try to get to bed around 10, but I've had nights where I wake up every single hour the whole night through. And that's assuming I can actually fall asleep! Last Sunday night, after an exhausting but incredibly fun whirlwind visit to Charleston, I actually sat in bed and read for four hours trying to fall asleep. By 1:30a, I finally fell asleep, but popped right back up at 6:30a. My body was ready to start the day!

Ha.


Unfortunately, my body only thought it was ready to start the day. I spent all Monday wandering around, going "huh?" whenever someone talked to me. The amount of blank staring at walls, books or floors was a bit embarrassing. It's times like this that make me remember why coffee is such a wonderful thing. And breakfast. Because no matter how awful you feel, sitting down to a cup of coffee and a slice of toast or bowl of cereal is a wonderful ritual.


Even better though? When quick breads like this oatmeal breakfast bread are around. Maybe that's why I'm so zombie-like after that terrible night's sleep - no more oatmeal quick bread sitting around, studded with dried tart cherries, waiting for me. It just disappeared too quickly, despite the fiance's dislike of cherries - that had just meant there was more for me!


Last Week: Chocolate Ganache Ice Cream
Next Week: Crunchy and Custardy Peach Tart

TWD: Chocolate Ganache Ice Cream

My dad visited this past weekend. It's always fun to have him come, because he knows just the right balance of doing things and hanging out. This is in stark contrast to my mom, who is GOGOGO! all the time. I've seriously sent her out on walks so that I could take a nap on some visits. His visits always revolve around a few things - long chats catching up on life, at least one good run together and food. We plan our visits around what we'll be having each meal. Heck, that's how we plan our lives!


The first time that the fiance visited me in Oshkosh, we sat that Saturday morning eating eggs and toast for breakfast. I looked up at him and asked what he wanted to do for lunch, and I just remember his confusion - why would I ask that now? He'd just started breakfast - he wasn't even hungry for lunch yet! It didn't matter to me; growing up, we always talked about the next meal or two while eating the current one. He's come over to my way of thinking through the past few years, but I have a feeling it's still not a natural thought for him.


But when my dad visits? I pull out all the stops. We had my current favorite wheaty and chewy sunflower seed bread for sandwiches when he first got there, five dining options for dinner that night, and sausage, potatoes and eggs from the farmers market for breakfast the next day. Lunch that day, I figured, we could wing once we got closer. Oh, and there were plans that, since he likes relaxation and downtime, I'd be able to squeeze in baking a test recipe for the wedding cake extravaganza. My dad, I figured, would be a rockstar taste tester.


The weekend went off without a hitch - a quick and easy lunch followed by a nap for him and cake baking for me, walks, an amazing dinner, and cake that night. Unfortunately, the cake was so rich that we didn't manage to try any of this chocolate ganache ice cream, but the fiance managed to squeeze a bowl in the next day without too much difficulty. That day, of course, began with a wonderful run in the early morning, from which we returned sweaty and a bit sap-covered from the weeds on the trail we took. A wonderful breakfast accompanied by LOTS of coffee followed by wandering around Chapel Hill rounded out my dad's visit. Oh, and lunch that day? We used it as an excuse to test-drive a local restaurant that we thought might be fun to go to on random weekdays for a good beer (it will be). A success, all around.


But you probably actually cared about the ice cream, not so much about the random goings-on of my (warped yet still awesome) family. I don't really blame you - this stuff probably would have been killer before it was even churned. The custard base is basically the most decadent chocolate pudding you could think of - my ice cream maker made odd whining noises while it was churning because it was so thick! Not only that, given the high percentage of chocolate, it takes a good 10-15 minutes on the counter to soften enough to eat. You see these photos? I scooped (and re-scooped and re-scooped) after 15 minutes on the counter, shot the photos and handed the fiance the bowl. After all that, it was still incredibly hard. I'd probably put some form of alcohol in it the next time, actually, since I like softer ice creams. The flavor though? Spot on, classic chocolate goodness.


Last Week: Gingered Carrot Cookies
Next Week: Oatmeal Breakfast Bread (killer with dried tart cherries)

TWD: Gingered Carrot Cookies

My favorite cake combines two of my favorite things (funny how that works, huh?) - warm fall spices and cream cheese frosting. Carrot cake. There's a reason why it's one of the four flavors of cake I'll be baking for my wedding. Here's the problem though: I don't want my carrot cake to taste too... carrot-y. So when I tried the carrot cake recipe from Cook's Illustrated's New Best Recipe cookbook, there was a necessary re-do. It tasted too much like carrot, not enough like cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg. So I redid, reducing the oil (I hate soggy carrot cake) and doubling or tripling each of the spices. Ah, much better.


What does this have to do with this week's TWD pick? Well, a lot. You see, I worry now whenever I see a carrot cake-inspired dessert. Will there be too much oil? Will they (the horror!) use butter? Did they use enough spices? Should I stick to the recipe, or assume that things will need to be tweaked? I mean, my kitchen currently has the remnants of every single TWD pick for the month of August. Because I'm that person, the one who walked into the kitchen at 8a and walked back out at 2p, covered in flour, sugar and butter, hands wrinkled from trying to keep up with all the dishes. So I can't afford a recipe re-do. Or at least, my thighs can't afford a re-do. Because while the fiance gladly consumes vast quantities of ice cream, he's much less enamored of things like tarts and quick breads.


Therefore, pre-emptive tweakage occurred. I doubled the spices, because generally I like more than Dorie calls for. I doubled the salt. I eighthed the recipe (yes, that was a lot of fun...). And then I baked four wee little cookies. The result? I forgot one tweak, because it's only occasionally needed with Dorie's recipes. I should have reduced the sugar. A lot. Like, by half. These things were like eating sugar held together with carrot shreds and dotted with raisins. (What, you thought there'd be coconut? Ha!)


Unfortunately, as I mentioned there wasn't really time for tweaking any more. Despite my downsizing (didya miss the minis? I did!), our apartment was just too inundated with baked goods to countenance a carrot cookie redux. It does, however, remind me that we need to get on the carrot cake recipe testing again. Three months left, three recipes left to nail down - coincidence? I think not! I foresee lots of carrot cake, chocolate stout cake, and flourless chocolate cake in our future...

Last Week: Chewy Chunky Blondies
Next Week: Chocolate Ganache Ice Cream