Goat Cheese Ice Cream with Roasted Peaches and Rosemary

Do you have access to an ice cream maker and goat cheese? If the answer is yes, then please make this immediately and continuously until Labor Day...and probably for the rest of the year...and maybe for the rest of your life. The basic recipe for goat cheese ice cream from Food52 is below, and here are seven variations on flavors and mix-ins, one of which I adapted to make tonight’s dessert. I feel like this is only the tip of the frozen hircine dessert iceberg. Take a moment to conjure a mental image for that phrase. You're welcome. 

After waiting three days for my peaches to ripen, they're sliced, pitted, and liberally covered in rosemary sugar in preparation for some glorious roasting.

Everything is better with butter, yes? Yes. The peaches are cooked with melted butter in a cast iron skillet, then transferred to the oven to roast and get really, really pretty and aromatic.

After roasting, I scooped the peaches into a ceramic bowl and cut them into bite-sized pieces. So as to not waste any sugary, buttery, peachy flavor, I poured the extra liquid remaining in the pan over the peach chunks and set the bowl aside to cool while I made the ice cream.

Earlier in the day, I'd prepared the ice cream batter, and it had been chilling in the fridge for quite a few hours before I poured into the ice cream maker. After that, it only took 20 minutes to mix and set up. 

The last (and most fun) order of business was mixing the peaches into the soft, new ice cream. I alternated between layers of fruit and ice cream until both were gone, then gently mixed it all together. It's sitting in the freezer right now hardening to normal ice-cream consistency. I'm waiting with bated breathe to try some as a type this sentence...

Goat Cheese Ice Cream

From Food52

Makes 1 quart

Ingredients

2 cups heavy cream

1 cup milk

1/3 cup honey

¼ teaspoon salt

4 egg yolks

½ cup (4 ounces) fresh goat cheese,

Directions

Heat cream, milk, honey, and salt in a saucepan until just simmering. Meanwhile, in a light bowl, lightly whisk the egg yolks.

Once milk mixture is simmering, slowly pour it into the yolks, while whisking constantly.

Add the egg and cream mixture back into the saucepan and cook on low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture thickens and coats the back of a wooden spoon, about 5 to 7 minutes, then remove from the heat.

Crumble the goat cheese into a large bowl and then strain the warm custard through a fine mesh strainer onto the goat cheese and whisk until fully incorporated and smooth.

Cover and cool in the fridge until thoroughly chilled, at least 2 hours or overnight.

Freeze the mixture in an ice cream maker.

Once it is frozen, transfer dollops of ice cream into a one-quart container. If using add-ins (like peaches roasted with rosemary –recipe below, or something equally awesome – possible options here), stir those in now, adding tablespoons of the variegate as you go so that ice cream and add-in are layered together.

Run a butter knife through the mixture in a swirling motion two to three times to gently swirl the ice cream and variegate.

Seal the container and let the ice cream set in the freezer for at least 4 hours before serving.

The ice cream will keep for a week in the freezer.

Roasted Peaches with Rosemary

Adapted from Food52

Ingredients

¾ cup raw sugar

3 Tbsp chopped rosemary leaves

4 firm, ripe peaches, pitted and halved (peeling is optional)

Kosher salt

4 Tbsp unsalted butter

Directions

Preheat oven to 425° F

In a food processor, combine raw sugar and chopped rosemary (make sure the rosemary is completely dry if you've just rinsed it). Process for about 30 seconds, or until well integrated. (You won't need the full amount of rosemary sugar for one recipe, but it keeps well tightly covered, and it can be used in tea, on fruit, &c)

Liberally sprinkle cut sides of halved peaches with the rosemary sugar, and follow with a pinch of salt.

Melt butter in a cast iron skillet over medium-high heat.

Arrange the peaches in the skillet, cut side-down.

Cook for 3 to 5 minutes without disturbing, until the cut sides begin to brown. (Note: The peaches will throw off juice while they’re browning, but it will eventually thicken in the oven.)

Transfer the skillet to the oven and roast for about 10 minutes.

Flip the peaches, drizzle/baste with butter and juice from the pan, and continue roasting another 5 to 10 minutes, or until tender. (The total cooking time will depend on the size and ripeness of your peaches.)

Blueberry Shortcakes with Lemon and Thyme Biscuits and Jasmine Whipped Cream

For this week's recipe, I asked facebookworld to weigh in on a choice between another rhubarb-inspired adventure and blueberry shortcakes. They (or I should say you guys – I’m assuming the audience is the same, right?) opted for blueberries rather than a rhubarb redux, so bloobs it is. Democracy in action. In retrospect, I’m really glad this recipe was the winner, because, true to their name, shortcakes do not take long to prepare, and June is a busy month over here.  The only element of the recipe that took some extended preparation was the whipped cream, but we’ll talk about that later. First, an observation:

There are quite a few antiquated phrases for the act of improving the appearance of something that is ordinary or unappealing, and some of them subscribe to a decidedly porcine inclination: making a purse out of a sow’s ear, or putting lipstick on a pig. These came to mind when I was thinking about strawberry shortcakes and preparing my ingredients for this recipe. Now, I’m not saying that strawberry shortcake is the pig in this analogy per se (also, who ever said there was anything wrong with pigs? Noble animals for sooth, dependable, and intelligent)…but strawberry shortcake is an awfully ordinary dessert for the summer season. Delicious, sure, but expected, and perhaps even getting a little tired now that we’re past the solstice and barreling toward the dog days. So, while the length of this post's name alone may make it seem sophisticated and complicated, we’re basically just taking strawberry shortcake and making a few minor tweaks  -  churching up a biscuit here and swapping out a berry there – until this little piggy is so dolled up you'd think she's on her way to the prom. But I digress.

The biscuit assembly was straightforward. Plus, I like recipes that require kneading so this one gets bonus points in my book.

The recipe told me to use a 3-inch biscuit cutter to make the rounds, but here in the 4 oz Kitchen we’re in the habit of subbing drinking vessels for cutting tools, so I grabbed a tumbler off the shelf and went to town. Worked great.

I was able to get 8 good-sized biscuits out of the dough, so I don’t know how big the recipe authors were making theirs to only get 6. Maybe they just weren’t as thrifty with their scrap recycling as I am.

The biscuit bake time was the perfect window to get the blueberry topping ready. Preparing the berries was as simple as adding sugar and heat and stirring until they looked right. In other places, I’ve seen the transformation berries undergo during maceration called “giving up their water,” which I think is delightful.

Both the biscuits and berries need to come to at least room temperature before the dessert is assembled (the berries can even be chilled in the fridge for a day or two if you want to make them ahead of time). 

Okay, so let’s talk about this whipped cream. Here is the recipe that gave me the idea for a jasmine tea infusion, but I deviated from its instructions pretty significantly. My version more closely followed the method for steeping tea in milk for the Earl Grey Teacup Cakes I made last fall. Instead of just plopping the tea bags into cold milk, I heated the milk and then added the tea. I think this released the flavor from the tea bags better and made the infusion process faster and the final essence of jasmine more pronounced.  I had to be really careful with the heat since this was heavy cream instead of just milk like in the Earl Grey recipe, so I used a very low flame and watched it the whole time, stirring frequently as I steeped six tea bags for a good 15 minutes – until just before bubbles began (have you made ganache before? the almost-simmering process here is very similar). Then I took the pan off the heat, covered it with a towel, and let it come to room temperature before removing the towel, covering  the cream + tea bag mixture with plastic, and refrigerating it overnight. The next day, after the berries and biscuits were done, I just had to take the milk out of the fridge, remove the tea bags, and whip it up.

The care put into the preparing the cream definitely paid off. This whipped cream is amazing. I think I found my purpose in life, and it is to spread the Good News about flavored whipped cream to the uninitiated. It is the easiest thing in the world to prepare (granted, the tea infusion maybe takes a little more patience, but that’s a special case), and heavy cream is a blank canvas.  It takes so many flavors so well – basic extracts like mint and coconut, herbs like lavender and rosemary, spices like cinnamon and nutmeg, and tea! And liquor! And So. Much. More. Seriously, people. There's no reason to reach for Cool Whip when you’ve got these kinds of easy options at your fingertips.

This recipe has lots of pluses: saturated colors, high-contrast textures, and flavor for days. I really like the way that none of the components of this dessert are too sweet: the bitterness of the tea, the tartness of the berries, the earthiness of the thyme, the sharpness of the lemon all blend into a flavor that is subtle and mellow and really enjoyable. This dish is the type whose flavor emerges and evolves from bite to bite. But I feel like describing how something tastes can be a little bit like explaining what water feels like to fish, so you really just have to try it and judge for yourself. Or, as Levar Burton would say, “Don’t take my word for it.”

Blueberry Shortcakes with Lemon and Thyme Biscuits

From Bon Appétit

Ingredients for the Berries

4 cups (21-22 oz) fresh blueberries, rinsed & drained well

2/3  cup powdered sugar

2 Tbsp water

Ingredients for the Biscuits

¾ cup chilled buttermilk

1 Tbsp finely grated lemon peel (in my world this is called ‘zest’. Idk why Bon Appétit has to be all verbose about it…)

1 tsp chopped fresh thyme

2¼ cups all-purpose flour

½ cup packed golden brown sugar

1½ tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

¼ tsp salt

6 Tbsp chilled unsalted butter cut into 1/3-inch cubes

Raw sugar for dusting (I used Turbinado)

Directions

For the Berries

Combine all ingredients in large saucepan.

Stir over medium heat until berries are slightly softened and syrup coats spoon, about 10 minutes.

Transfer to medium glass bowl.

**Can be made 2-3 days ahead. Cover and chill. Bring to room temperature before serving

For the Biscuits

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 425°F. Line large rimmed baking sheet with silicone baking mat, smooth side up, or parchment paper.

 Mix buttermilk, lemon peel, and thyme in small bowl.

Whisk next 5 ingredients in large bowl to blend, breaking up any large clumps of brown sugar with fingertips.

Add butter and rub in with fingertips until mixture resembles coarse meal.

Add buttermilk mixture and stir with fork just until blended (dough will be sticky).

Transfer dough to lightly floured work surface. Knead gently just until dough comes together, 4 to 5 turns (do not overwork dough or shortcakes will be tough).

Pat dough out to 3/4-inch-thick round. Using 3-inch-diameter cookie cutter dipped in flour (or whatever wide-mouth glass happens to be within arm’s reach), cut out dough rounds. Gently gather dough scraps and pat out to 3/4-inch thickness. Cut out additional rounds, for 6 rounds total. (Again, I was able to easily get 8 when I used the dough up completely.)

Transfer dough rounds to prepared baking sheet, spacing evenly and sprinkle with raw sugar.

Bake biscuits until golden and tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 15 minutes.

Transfer to rack; cool slightly before cutting, (*or cool to room temperature, package tightly, and save for up to 3 days…also, please enjoy the concrete and specific nature of the rest of these directions. Bon Appétit must think we’re all idiots who don’t know how to cut biscuits or use plates…)

Using a serrated knife, carefully cut biscuits horizontally in half. Place bottom half of each biscuit on each of 6 plates. Spoon blueberries and syrup over, dividing equally. Cover with biscuit tops. Place scoop of ice cream or dollop of whipped cream alongside each and serve.

Jasmine-Infused Whipped Cream

Adapted from Epicurious

Ingredients

1 cup heavy whipping cream

1 Tbsp good-quality loose-leaf jasmine tea or 4-6 jasmine tea bags

1 Tbsp granulated sugar (add more or less to taste)

Directions

To flavor the cream…

Pour cream into a small sauce pan over low heat and immediately add tea leaves/bags

Stirring frequently, slowly warm the cream until it is steaming and the tea begins to release its flavor – do NOT let the cream boil. If you see little bubbles starting to form, ABORT IMMEDIATELY.

After about 10 min, remove from heat, cover pan, and let it sit until cooled to room temp

Place room-temp cream into refrigerator to cool

*Once cream has chilled thoroughly (1-2 hours minimum), cream can be whipped at any time. Cream can also chill in the fridge overnight

To whip the cream…

Strain the cream-tea mixture through a fine strainer into a mixing bowl. Remove and dispose of solids.

Add sugar; beat until peaks form

Note (This may be Bon-Appétit-Level Captain Obvious Information, but just in case…): The intensity of the tea flavor will be dictated by how long the tea is left in the cream. For a gentler flavor, remove tea bags right away when cream comes off the stove. For more intense flavor, leave them in longer – all the way up until just prior to whipping, if you’d like.  For a really strong flavor, steep tea until just before whipping and firmly squeeze the excess cream from the bags into the mixing bowl as you’re removing them. Also remember that tea will give the cream a bitter flavor, so taste it before, during, and after the whipping process, and add enough sugar to ensure the final product is palatable.

Rhubarb Meringue Tartlets with Pecan Shortbread Crust

Even though spring has decided to be something of a tease this year, we’re charging ahead with the seasonal desserts here in the 4oz Kitchen. The only food that declares, “Spring has arrived, you clowns!” more than rhubarb, to me, is asparagus; however, working that ingredient into a dessert seems almost as foolhardy as trying to make a chocolate cake with beets, and we all remember how that turned out (okay, that beet cake was six kinds of awesome, but I don’t want to press my luck in the roulette of vegetable/dessert combos). So we'll save the asparagus for next time...perhaps in a savory scone or popover of some sort. As for this week, rhubarb will suffice.

A few weeks ago, Emily Hilliard wrote about a rhubarb meringue tart on Nothing in the House, and I’ve been hankering to try it ever since. The long holiday weekend afforded me enough time to make my dreams a reality (and to write in stultifyingly bland clichés…but can’t my vocabulary take a vacation too?).

I’ve been acquainted with rhubarb as long as I can remember. We had a tired, old rhubarb bush, planted by my great-grandparents, living next to our cottage up north, and in the years when it could muster enough chutzpah to produce a few healthy stalks, my dad would always use them to make pie. Now, this year, he’s already made a few of what I’ve come to consider his signature dish, so I think even if Emily hadn’t written about it, I’d ‘ve felt compelled to keep up with family tradition and crank out some sort of rhubarb-related pastry, but I’m really excited about the finished result of this particular recipe. While usually the word ‘curd’ is not one that immediately appeals to the palate, this one is a jaw-dropper...in the good way.

Ingredient line-up for the pecan shortbread crust.

First the dry ingredients and pecans go into the food processor, followed by a generous helping of cold butter.

A few more pulses and our dough is ready to be wrapped and chilled. Recipes often instruct dough to be made into a ball before wrapping, but if I know I'm going to be rolling it out later on (versus just piecing it into the pan), I like to go for a disc shape instead. This, along with letting the chilled dough stand at room temp for about 10 minutes before touching it with a rolling pin, generally makes the whole process go much more smoothly. 

The tart crust baked under foil and pie weights for 20 minutes and then uncovered for another 10. I had enough dough to fill all six of my mini-tart ramekins with a good thick crust and then had enough left over for three 4-oz jars as well. (Somebody may have gotten a little overzealous with her fork-hole-piercing of the crusts -- rest assured there were absolutely NO ripples or bubbles from unreleased air in these shells when they were done baking.)

Once the crusts came out of the oven, I set them aside to cool and worked on the filling. Three cups of diced rhubarb, which came from about 1 1/4 lbs of stalks, yielded 1 1/2 cups of puree. I didn't realize how much water the rhubarb itself contained until it began to cook down. With the help of my new immersion blender, the pureeing part of the curd was quick and easy. Said blender was purchased just recently after months if not years of hesitation. But Meijer was having a sale, so I think the universe was trying to tell me it was time to take the plunge already. Definitely no regrets so far.

Making curd is a stressful process, or at least an absorbing one. You’ll notice there are no pictures taken during this part of the recipe. This is because as soon as the rhubarb puree was finished and back on the stove top, the curd-making process began, and I was busy watching for lumps and whisking in yolks and monitoring the temperature to keep it at-but-not-above-185° F (sidebar: a couple of years ago I bought a candy thermometer. I wouldn’t say I use it often, but it’s definitely proven its worth in clutch situations like this).  However, all of the labor was worth it. Much like Willy Wonka’s paradigmatic snozzberry wallpaper, this rhubarb curd actually tastes like rhubarb. Or, more specifically, since rhubarb by itself is intensely, unpleasantly tart, it tastes like rhubarb pie filling. Eating this dessert is like having the exact flavor of rhubarb pie transported to the middle of a buttery, pecan-and-orange-zest-infused shortbread crust and topped with a fluffy, sugary cloud. The result is sensational. 

Once the tart filling was finished and had time to cool to room temperature, I scooped it into the shells with my trusty giant melon-baller (or ice cream scoop...whatever) and popped it into the fridge to set for two hours. Before scooping, I did have to add some pink food coloring to the curd to bring it back to a shade more reminiscent of rhubarb since the egg yolks added a decidedly yellow tinge when they were whisked in. 

While the tarts were in the fridge, I washed and sliced about a cup of strawberries and got my meringue ingredients ready. I opted to include the strawberry layer between the curd and meringue on some of the tarts because rhubarb + strawberry is never a bad combination. This was not a bad addition, but I was almost loath to add anything to distract from the flavor of the tart filling. The real motive behind this choice is the fact that when you buy strawberries, they demand to be used within a certain, fairly slim window, and mine were edging toward the point of no return, so on they went. I'm a little embarrassed how long I took painstakingly arranging my berry slices in pretty patterns on top of the tarts before I realized they would all be covered in meringue in the end. I like to think they tasted better for the extra TLC, regardless.

Five egg whites make meringue in abundance. I had a good bit left over, and in retrospect I wish I’d committed 100% to the thing and heaped my tarts even higher to use all of the topping. 

It took quite a bit of trial and error with various instruments before I found the best way to apply and then fancify the meringue so it would brown in a decorative way. Pro-tip: start with the butter knife, then use the spoon to finish; ditch the spatula entirely. Also, the historians in the audience should take a moment to notice the spoon used here. I was recently given the privilege of inheriting the silver owned by the same great-grandparents who planted the rhubarb in the first place. The spoon pictured is one of Clyde and Elma Taber’s very own. So that’s pretty boss.

When they came out of the oven for the last time, my meringue had toasted to a golden brown and the kitchen smelled like rhubarb pie, which told me I'd done something right. 

I finished this recipe pretty late at night, so once they were cool, I put all the tarts back in the refrigerator to keep overnight, and then rewarded myself with one for breakfast. I'd finished almost the whole thing before I remembered I had an obligation to pause and document for my readers. There is no better companion to morning coffee than a good pastry. And these aren't just good, they're sweet, tangy, light, fruity, and bursting with bright, springtime flavor.   

Rhubarb Meringue Tart with Pecan Shortbread Crust
Slightly modified from Nothing in the House

For the crust:
1 c. pecans, roasted
1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour
1/3 c. sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
9 Tblsp. butter
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1 tsp. vanilla extract
zest of one small orange

For the filling:
3 c. fresh rhubarb, diced
1/4 c. + about 1/2 c. water  (extra ½ c. may not be necessary)
1 1/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. cornstarch
1/4 tsp. salt
5 egg yolks (save whites for meringue)
3 Tblsp. butter, cut into chunks

For the meringue:
5 egg whites
1 tsp. cream of tartar
1/4 c. sugar

Directions

For the crust:
1. Combine roasted pecans, flour, sugar, and baking powder in a food processor and pulse until pecans are finely ground.

2. Add cold butter chunks to the pecan mixture and process until mix is the size of small peas.

3. Add egg, egg yolk, vanilla extract and orange zest and pulse just until dough begins to form.

4. Remove pastry dough from the food processor, form into a disc and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Chill for at least one hour and up to 1 day.

5. After at least one hour, preheat oven to 350 degrees F and lightly grease and flour the bottom and sides of a 9-inch tart pan or six 4 oz ramekins. Remove the dough from the fridge. Let it sit for 5-10 minutes, then place a sheet of waxed paper over the disc and roll it out to about 1/8” thickness.  If rolling isn’t your thing, Emily says you can also just press it into the bottom and sides of the tart pan. The bottom crust should be slightly thicker than the sides.

6. Pierce bottom and sides with a fork and then place crust in the freezer for about 10 minutes so butter can re-chill.

7. Remove, line with parchment paper and pie weights, then bake for about 20 minutes or until edges are light, golden brown.

8. Remove pie weights and bake for 5-10 more minutes. Take from oven and let cool.

For the filling:
1. Combine diced rhubarb and 1/4 c. water in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat. Let cook until rhubarb is soft and begins to break down.

2. With an immersion blender (or a stand blender), purée until smooth and set aside to cool slightly.

3. Once cooled, pour into a 2-cup measuring cup and add enough water to bring purée to 1 1/2 c if necessary. Then pour the rhubarb mixture back into the saucepan.

4. Add sugar, salt, and cornstarch to the purée mixture and cook over medium heat until it begins to thicken. Whisk constantly to prevent lumps.

5. Add in egg yolks, whisking after each addition.

6. Continue to cook until mixture coats the back of a spoon, or reads 185° F on a candy thermometer.

7. Remove from heat and stir in the butter. Let cool to room temperature. Once cooled, pour filling into pie crust, cover with plastic wrap and place in the fridge for about 2 hours.

8. If desired, slice strawberries and arrange them in a thin layer over the filling before topping with meringue.

 For the meringue:
1. Once filling has chilled for 2 hours, and you’ve added strawberries if you want, preheat oven to 375° F.

2. In a medium mixing bowl, mix egg whites and cream of tartar on high until egg whites begin to form medium peaks.

3. Continue to beat eggs, gradually adding in sugar. Again continue to beat eggs until they are glossy and can form stiff peaks.

4. Spread over rhubarb filling, making sure the meringue seals the edge of the pie. Use the back of a spoon to curl meringue decoratively.

5. Bake for 12-15 minutes or until egg whites begin to brown. Serve chilled, at room temperature, or alongside a cup of coffee.

Bittersweet Brownies with Salted Peanut Butter Frosting

I was planning on making a glorious-looking rhubarb meringue tart this week to compensate for the gaping chasm of radio silence since the last post, but this is Michigan after all, and there’s nary a stalk of rhubarb to be found this time of year, at least not in the groceries and farmer’s markets I scoured. So instead you get brownies (#SorryNotSorry).  Also, last month I packed up my life and moved, like, 10 whole miles down the road, so I feel like my new house and I have at least a semi-legitimate excuse for this lapse in posting (she bashfully excuses herself).

.

Anyway. Today’s recipe was originally posted on TheKitchn as part of a Valentine’s Day series featuring a cookbook by Ashley Rodriguez called Date Night In. But personally, I think the chocolate-peanut butter combination is too good to be relegated to yearly pseudo-holidays, so I’m making it on May Day Eve.

As I skimmed this recipe’s ingredient list, it boded well from the outset by being pleasantly low on eggs and flour and promisingly high on butter, sugar, and chocolate. So I assembled the requisite ingredients and dove in. I liked this recipe for lots of reasons, one of the main ones being the fact that I had everything on hand before making it (espresso powder notwithstanding...but that's an optional ingredient so, you know). That hardly ever happens in this kitchen.

The steps for this recipe were simple and straightforward. After browning the butter and combining it with the chocolate, I just whisked, scooped, baked, and frosted. And once they were cool, of course I sampled.

Sidenote: As a new baker, I remember being intimidated by recipes that called for browned butter because it sounded like an ingredient that took finesse and expertise to produce. It is not. The Kitchn’s directions offer a nicely low-brow tutorial, and they don't even use the phrase “browned butter,” but instead jump right into describing the process used to achieve this ingredient (Can you put butter in a pan over medium heat? Can you wait patiently for 5-7 minutes? Can you tell the difference between the color yellow and the color brown? Then you can make browned butter).

Dry ingredients, sans espresso powder, ready to be sifted and incorporated at the proper juncture.  

Here is the mixing phase. About 20 stirs was all it took to sufficiently blend the wet and dry ingredients.

I used my ½ cup ice cream scoop (or is it meant to be a giant melon baller? I've never been entirely sure) to fill the jars, and then baked them for 30 minutes. Later, I would realize that I ought to have used more jars and filled them less, so the bake time would be lowered accordingly in that situation. The smaller portions would also have been better since both the brownies and the frosting are super rich. Tangent: We're reading Romeo and Juliet in the freshmen English class that I teach, and we just studied the scene where, in warning the young protagonists to love moderately and cautiously, Friar Lawrence observes, "The sweetest honey / Is loathsome in his own deliciousness / And in the taste confounds the appetite." He might as well have been talking about these suckers. Also Valentine's Day, love, tragedy, eating chocolate - it's all connected!

Freshly baked brownie babies. Quite large brownie babies, actually…

Not quite the same as cooling in a Heritage Hill, Victorian house window sill, but it’ll do.

Also, LOOK AT ALL THIS COUNTER SPACE, YOU GUYS. All the boxing and unboxing and [insert annoying details of moving here] was not for naught. Window sill trade-up was probably worth it. Probably.

Final Reflections: Doesn’t everything good in life always come down to proper proportions? Sigh. So, as I mentioned before, these guys rose more than I thought they would (even though I took the recipe’s note and added two eggs instead of three to prevent excessive airiness). But c’est la vie. Next time I would add less batter to each jar to leave plenty of room to put on a good half-inch of frosting on top without having it reach too far past the edge of the jar. I mean, I still put a half-inch of frosting on this batch, but I also ended up with some awkwardly tall pastry towers. Next time I’ll know better.

Bittersweet Brownies with Salted Peanut Butter Frosting

From Ashley Rodriguez's Date Night In

Makes 12 to 15 brownies or 9 brimful 4oz jars

For the Brownies:

3/4 cup (170 grams) unsalted butter, plus more for the pan
3 ounces (90 grams) bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1 1/2 cups (300 grams) granulated sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs - or use 3 if you like lighter, less dense brownies (read: if you're a dessert heretic)
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon instant espresso powder (optional)
1/2 cup (40 grams) cocoa powder
1/2 cup (70 grams) all-purpose flour

For the frosting:
6 tablespoons (85 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup (100 grams) smooth peanut butter
1/3 cup (40 grams) confectioners’ sugar
1/2 teaspoon flake salt

Directions

Preheat the oven to 325°F, and grease an 8-inch square pan (or 10-12 four ounce glass jars)

Line the pan with parchment paper so that a couple inches hang over the edge. Then grease the parchment (or spray the jars with non-stick cooking spray - I use Trader Joe's Coconut Oil Spray)

Brown the butter, meaning…

Place the butter in a medium saucepan and melt over medium-high heat.

Allow the butter to cook until the milk solids bubble up and then settle into the pan and caramelize.
Swirl the butter in the pan in order to see the color of the little bits on the bottom.

As soon as the milk solids are golden and the butter smells nutty, about 3 to 5 minutes, remove the pan from the heat.

Pour the browned butter into a medium bowl and add the chopped chocolate.

Let stand for 1 minute to melt and then whisk together, then whisk in the sugar and vanilla while the butter mixture is still warm.

Stir in the eggs, salt, and espresso powder until well blended.

Over the bowl with the chocolate mixture, sift in the cocoa powder and flour.

Fold the ingredients together until just combined using a spatula.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan or scoop into the jars, filling each about 1 inch high and bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the middle pulls out clean.

Let cool to room temperature.

With an electric mixer, whip together the butter, peanut butter, and confectioners’ sugar in a large bowl.Continue to mix until everything is well combined and the frosting has lightened in color.

Frost the cooled brownies and finish with the flake salt.

If the brownies are too fudgy to cut, refrigerate for 30 minutes and then cut. Let the brownies sit at room temperature for 10 minutes before serving.

Brownies can be made 1 to 3 days in advance. The frosting can be made up to 1 week in advance.

Chocolate Chip Cookie Cake

I like to watch the show Project Runway (she admits sheepishly). Every season they have one episode where the challenge is for the designers to create an Avant Garde look. This outfit is supposed to be exaggerated and conceptual, to push the boundaries of innovation and creativity. The Avant Garde look is meant to impress and inspire on the runway during fashion shows, but it’s not expected to be practical; it is free from the obligation of translating to everyday street wear.

In my opinion, today’s dessert falls in the category of Avant Garde baking. A friend told me about the concept a couple of weeks ago, and the idea kept lurking around the corners of my brain until I finally gave in and, after a few more clarification questions to said friend, tackled it (If I get diabetes next week, we all know who to blame). Anyway, about the Avant Garde thing: the finished product of this endeavor, this tower of cookie and frosting, sure is pretty to look at, and with nine layers and about five gallons of icing, it definitely pushes many boundaries (granted those include boundaries of rationality, wisdom, and caloric-intake...but pioneering nonetheless), yet ultimately, this creation is more of a showpiece than a practical dessert; one person could never eat one piece of this cake – even the tiniest sliver – on their own.  I had to quit after about four bites when I took my first sample piece this morning, and historically I have a freakishly high tolerance for rich, sugary things. I think I’m also a little disappointed with the flavor balance of the dessert because I really, really like a good, authentic chocolate chip cookie, so for me, the cream cheese frosting was more of a distraction than anything else.

The recipe I used was adapted from Martha Stewart. Her version made 5 thicker layers. I squeezed 9 out of the same amount of batter. I also used a different frosting recipe since a few of the comments on the cake found fault with the original. The frosting I ended up making (recipe here) worked out well. I liked how it held its consistency at room temperature, and the whipped cream tempered the intensity of the cream cheese nicely. That being said, less would still have been better, especially toward the top layers when I realized how much extra frosting I was going to have and, instead of deciding to save it for later like a logical person, I decided to start globbing it on so I could use it all. Poor choice, Taber, poor choice.

To prepare and bake he cookie layers, Martha said to use a spatula to spread the raw dough into 8-inch rounds. I found that laying down a piece of waxed paper on top of each lump of batter and using my hands to shape the discs was much more effective. My silicon baking-sheet liners also came in extremely handy to keep the finished cookies from sticking to the pan when I transferred them to wire racks to cool.

Like I intimated before, the next time I make this recipe I would be much more conservative with the application of the frosting – just adding enough to get the layers to stick together, and I would also adjust the frosting recipe to use less sugar since the cookie is sweet enough on its own.

I hope I haven’t griped too much. This was a really fun recipe to make, and I’m sure my friends and co-workers will be happy to help me chip away at Cookie Cake Mountain over the next few days before it collapses entirely under the weight of its own frosting. 

Chocolate Chip Cookie Cake

adapted from Martha Stewart

For the Cookies:

4 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp baking soda

1 1/2 tsp salt

12 Tbsp unsalted butter, softened (I doubled Martha's suggestion, because: America)

1 1/2 cups packed light brown sugar

3/4 cups granulated sugar

3 tsp pure vanilla extract

2 large eggs, plus 2 egg yolks

3/4 cup heavy cream

3 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips (mini chips work best for thinner layers)

For the Frosting:

2 8oz. packages cream cheese at room temperature

1/2 cup granulated sugar (use more or less to taste; this is half what the original recipe called for)

1 tsp pure vanilla extract

2 cups heavy cream

The will power to not use all of this frosting if you don't really need to. Seriously.

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk flour, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl. Put butter, brown sugar, and granulated sugars in the bowl of a stand mixer with paddle attachment and beat at medium speed until pale and fluffy. Mix in vanilla, eggs, and yolks. Reduce speed to low. Add flour mixture in a little at a time, alternative with the cream. Mix until all ingredients are incorporated. Stir in chocolate chips by hand.

Divide batter into 3-4 portions. Wrap each in waxed paper and refrigerate for at least 1 hour. Work with one portion at a time. Use a pastry cutter to divide each portion into 2-3 sections. Place each section on a baking sheet lined with parchment or a silicon baking mat. Put a loose sheet of wax paper over the section and use your hands to press the dough into an 8-inch disc. Peel the wax paper off when you're done and use it for the next section. These will have to be done in batches depending on how many baking sheets you have and how big your oven is. Leave waiting dough in the refrigerator so it doesn't get soft and difficult to work with in the meantime. 

Bake each disc until edges are pale golden brown, about 10 minutes. Bake time will vary depending on how many discs you bake at once and how thick you've made them, so watch the first batch carefully and adjust as needed. After the first 10 minutes, remove partially-baked cookies from oven and use an offset spatula to gently reshape the dough into a uniform circle. Return to oven and bake for 8-10 minutes more until edges are golden brown and center has set up. Gently remove from baking sheet and lay on wire rack to cool. Finished discs can be stored in an airtight container for up to 1 day. 

Once the cookies are all cooled completely, make the frosting. Combine the cream cheese, granulated sugar, and vanilla by mixing on medium until all ingredients are incorporated and texture is fluffy. Transfer the mixture into a large mixing bowl and wash the stand mixer's bowl. Use the whisk attachment to whip the heavy cream until stiff peaks form. Gently fold the whipped cream into the cream cheese mixture by hand. Do not over mix.

To assemble, spread a thin (THIN, people!) layer of frosting over all but one of the discs, then stack them as evenly as possible. If the sizes aren't exactly the same, then clearly you've failed and should never lift a spatula again. No, seriously, try to put the larger cookies on the bottom for stability. Extra frosting can be used as a garnish, and I shaved about 2 oz. of 78% cacao chocolate over the top for visual appeal. 

Let the cake (is that the appropriate label for this dish? I keep calling it 'the tower' or 'the mountain' when I describe it to my friends) sit for at least an hour so the cookies can soften a little (they'll soak up some of the frosting) to prevent crumbling when you cut into it. Then slice and serve. It's extremely rich, so use small portions.

The frosting doesn't need to be refrigerated to hold its consistency, so leftovers can be kept at room temperature or refrigerated.

Raspberry, Rose & Chocolate Cakes

Happy Winter Storm Warning. After a few mild, sunnyish days, February is clearly here to remind us that winter is far from over. I made this recipe yesterday, and while the ice crystals were swirling around in the frigid gales outside my window, there was no place I would rather have been than in my toasty kitchen with the oven on. And I hear there was some kind of football event that happened last night too?  And Valentine’s Day is right around the corner? Lots of reasons to stay indoors and eat cupcakes.

With sweet raspberry and a hint of rose, the flavors in this recipe provide some much-needed reminders of spring.  The directions come from April Carter’s book trEATs, which was also the source of the Almond and Earl Grey Teacup Cakes I made it November. Those were pretty stellar, so the bar was set accordingly high for yesterday's endeavor.

First, I had to adapt the recipe slightly because I didn’t have raspberry jam on hand. Of course I’ve got four other kinds of jams, all open and half-eaten, sitting in my fridge. But no raspberry. Perusing my other options, I immediately rejected the rhubarb-hibiscus and decided that the apricot preserves were a last resort. I found myself torn over whether to use blackberry jam or the strawberry preserves I made from scratch last summer (they were frozen until a couple weeks ago - don't panic). Thankfully, I quickly remembered that this is America, the place where football ends with brawling and there is always a way to get out of making difficult decisions. So I used both. Okay, that's kind of a lie. The blackberry was my definite first choice, but when I opened the jar there were only a few tablespoons left, and it ran out after four cakes, so I had to utilize my second and then third string options (and that is the first and last time I will ever use a sports metaphor on this blog; clearly the Superbowl has wormed its way into my subconscious. Gross). 

The recipe in trEATs does a nice job giving its list of ingredients in metric and imperial measurements. And I've said this before, but measuring ingredients by weight makes so much sense in terms of consistency between bakers. However, because I'm not as used to thinking in terms of weight, I have kind of a terrible time estimating how much of each ingredient I'll be using. For instance, I imagine that 2oz of cocoa powder isn't very much - maybe a couple of tablespoons? Oh no. Here is what 2 oz of cocoa powder looks like. A veritable mountain of chocolate. 

All that cocoa powder made a smooth chocolate paste for the base of the cupcakes.

The recipe was a little vague about how to combine all of the ingredients. While I'm definitely a fan of the ol' dump-and-mix, I chose to be a little more deliberate with the order in which I put things together, just in case, you know? First, I added the milk to the butter/sugar mixture, then into that I folded the cocoa paste, and finally I slowly added the dry ingredients, which I'd already sifted together. 

The recipe made one dozen cupcakes, which fit perfectly into my jars. I did have to add time onto the baking to accommodate for the glass containers. Mine baked for about 25 minutes and turned out nicely - crisp on the tops, but moist inside. Sidebar: I'd like to give another gold star to Trader Joe's for making a cooking spray with coconut oil. I feel very trendy AND healthy when I'm using this. Much better than your basic Pam spray, in my opinion.

The tops came out a bit knobbier than I’d have liked. I considered shaving them down a bit so the frosting would look rounder and less…pointy, but ultimately decided against it on the grounds of wasting not wanting not. Thank goodness America is also a land of helpful proverbs.

Shout out to Science for providing man with the capacity to invent (and re-purpose) tools that make it easier to put holes in things. Apple corer, cupcake corer? Tomato, tomahto. 

After they'd cooled and been cored properly, I ended up filling my cakes with blackberry, strawberry, and apricot jams. (That's right, I ran out of the strawberry back-up, too. Normally I'm not such a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants baker. I should have run to the store right at the outset and just bought a jar of raspberry jam, but I took the snowstorm as an excuse to stay in and fake it). 

The frosting was a simple butter cream with a healthy dose of pink dye added in. I used rose water instead of rose extract, so I had to increase the amount to around a teaspoon. This ingredient can be dangerous because it's such a recognizable and potentially intense flavor, but I was cautious while I added it in, and ultimately I really liked how the rose aroma brought out the floral elements in the jam fillings. In other words, the risk was totally worth it. Also, usually I'm not one for artificial colors in baking, but this time the smell/taste combo made sense - desserts that taste like roses ought to be pink, damnit. 

So, the recipe advised me to decorate the cakes to look like flowers. That's a tall order for someone who still uses ziploc baggies with the corners cut off as her pastry bags. I was able to fumble out some kind of cactus-meets-peony-maybe kind of shapes, and my friend Emily suggested that the one in the back left looks kind of like a brain. Clearly I'll need more practice before I make (and decorate) this recipe again. Also keep in mind I only took pictures of the GOOD ones to show you guys.

Raspberry, Rose & Chocolate Cakes

from trEATs by April Carter

For the Cakes:
2 oz cocoa powder (about 1/2 cup)
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
4 fl oz boiling water
3 3/4 oz (7.5 Tbsp) unsalted butter
2/5 cup superfine sugar [possibly condescending note: 2/5 cup is between 1/3 and 1/2 cup]
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
2 eggs
1 2/5 cup flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 fl oz milk

For the Filling:
4 Tbsp raspberry jam (or the fruit preserve of your choice. I also feel like I used a lot more than 4 Tbsp, so make sure you have extra)

For the Rose Buttercream:
4oz (8 Tbsp or one stick) unsalted butter
2 cups confectioner's sugar
2 tsp milk
3 drops of rose extract (I used 1 tsp rose water; add more or less to taste)
claret or pink gel food coloring

Directions
Preheat the oven to 350 F. Set liners in a 12-hole cupcake tin or spray your 4 oz jars with non-stick cooking spray.

Mix the cocoa powder, vanilla extract, and boiling water in a small bowl until combined, then set aside to cool.

Using a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugars (about 3-4 minutes). Add the eggs one a a time and beat well after each addition.

Into a clean bowl, sift the flour, baking powder, and salt, and stir to combine. Add milk to butter mixture and then fold in chocolate paste. Finally, gradually mix in dry ingredients. Scrape down the sides of the bowl (or use one of these...so cool!) to make sure all of the ingredients are well incorporated, then scoop the mixture into the cupcake liners or jars. Fill containers about 2/3 full.

Bake for 18-20 minutes for normal cupcakes or 23-25 minutes for 4 oz glass jars (or until a skewer inserted into the middle of one of the cakes comes out clean).

Remove cupcakes from tin and set on a wire rack to cool.

To make the buttercream, cream together butter and sugar, then add milk, rose extract or water and beat for 3-5 minutes until mixture is creamy and light. Add food coloring a few drops at a time until desired color is reached.

Once the cakes have cooled, cut a small, cone-shaped piece from the top of each (or use an apple corer to gently remove the centers of the cakes). Fill each hole with a teaspoon (or more!) of jam and top with the cut-out piece.

Pipe the rose buttercream onto the top of each cake using a large star tip (or your trusty ziploc bag). To pipe a rose design, start piping from the center of each cake and spiral outwards (then hide the results of all of your mess-ups from your friends).

Cover and store in the fridge for up to 3 days. Any leftover buttercream can be stored in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 2 weeks.