Something old, something new

In a way it feels silly to post this. But when I've made the same thing maybe 5 times over the past 2 months, to not talk about it feels like not telling a close friend my innermost thoughts. The classic NY Times recipe from 1983, the Purple Plum Torte, something old, is still being made and that's for a reason, clearly. A magical thing happens in the oven...the baking powder and egg puff up the thick-battered torte into cakey lightness, the plums sink through to develop into jammy pockets and the cinnamon speckles bake into the top crust to give it the slightest crackle. One of the farm market vendors I frequent has still had a heap of these little Italian plums on a weekly basis and I can never not pick them up. It being 2015, not 1983, I decided to give it a new twist: I make a half-recipe, swap in a smidge of whole wheat flour, and bake it in shallow tart pans instead of a tall springform one.

I don't intend to stop

The night we returned from our honeymoon, I pulled a mini loaf of zucchini bread I'd stashed in the freezer before we'd left for the wedding festivities. To be honest, I was already thinking about it on the plane ride back when I realized we would not be having Adriatic seafood the next day or for that matter until we planned another trip. The next best option seemed to be to brainstorm uses for the rest of summer's bounty and strategically deal with the available seafood here. But back to the zucchini bread. My freezer is so small I do not have the ability to forget what's in there. And a loaf of this, which defrosts beautifully overnight on the counter, was there, ready to be sliced, toasted and schmeared the next morning.

I've made this bread several times over the summer... (why did I wait to share it ?!) and it's a keeper. I first saw it on Food52 made with orange and rosemary, flavors I would never pass up. And while that was a wonderful rendition, it's the vanilla, cinnamon and chocolate combination that I always seem to have more at my fingertips. To make matters even more attractive, this leoparded zucchini loaf's olive oil base is cut with a bit of plain yogurt. I keep seeing zucchini at the market even now, and somehow we have not stopped roasting it, shredding it into meatballs, and baking it up into this bread. And as far as this Indian Summer is going, I don't intend to stop until I no longer see the zucchini. 

Venice + Croatia

We're back in the states after visiting Venice, Italy and Croatia for our Honeymoon journey and I have to say, really missing the view. Both lands of photo-paradise and adventure. The first stop was Venice, arrival around 11 am, and this here below the first photo I took after exiting the Alilaguna. 

A lucky one

Saturday evening, 9-ish, after a late breakfast, a late lunch, a lot of administrative work, and slice of afternoon dessert (see above), we find ourselves at the corner Vietnamese restaurant (cuz if you are marrying a 6'2 ft man there will never be a late lunch + dessert that also suffices as dinner) : )  

Everything is the same about this place, always. I will order grilled wild shrimps, Ed beef or pork and we will never have to wait. There are people there but not too many. The family running it available but not intrusive, the dishes authentic but not trendy, fresh but not farm-y. The one minute walk there, often an extension of a concentrated day not needing any more accoutrements but the mint leaf garnishes. 

On this visit Ed ordered a good Belgian beer which was, within minutes, spilled as our waiter set down dishes. With karate-like reflexes, it was propped back up, the wetness graciously blotted with towels. Not much was lost but a new bottle was brought. A lucky one, perhaps. And just as I thought I'd want more later, my Sauvignon Blanc was, too, refilled with the last of the bottle. Did they know we'd be married in a week, I wondered?

Wine Truffles

Ever since I posted that recipe for Amaretto Truffles back around Valentine's Day (which are really good), I've been making truffles quite regularly. IMHO, it's one of the most simple sophistications you can have sitting around your kitchen, one that doesn't require much effort at all. Something you can take out of your back pocket like...oh, there's truffles... Eating them requires nary a napkin. Each bite is so strong, you only need a few, and when you announce these ones are made from booze, not cream, you'll get even more interest. I even brought them to a family gathering when I couldn't get it together to make another dessert. Once rolled, they'll last a few good days in a container. The only trick is setting aside the nice size bar of chocolate you'll need, but once you have, you'll be saving the last trickles of the bottle of red aside just so another batch can happen soon.

You'll start like you would any other truffle: dark chocolate, of the 70%-77% cacao variety, gets chopped and set in a bowl. Liquid is heated to just boil and poured over to soften. Now this is where things get different; the mixture doesn't step foot in the fridge. A little butter is then melted in the same pot and added and then the whole thing is stirred. It sits out and cools off, between stirs for up to an hour. You'll have to babysit it for a bit at room temperature, giving it stirs, but once it's scoopable, you'll roll your truffles into a little cocoa, store them and call it a day.

Assurance

About once a week, I pick up Griggstown chicken sausages at our farmer's market along with whatever vegetables are seeming new. Sold frozen raw,  it's a delicious product, infused with parsley, white wine and garlic, or sundried tomato and basil, and it serves as assurance that if I have no idea what to make one day coming up, it's there and ready to go without the demands for breadcrumbs or other accessories like meatballs need. When I get home from the market, I set it in the fridge to defrost: tomorrow will require a dash less thought. And then, that's done. While I believe the popular thing to do with these sausages is to grill them, a large percentage of us don't have that outdoor access even during these months, and I've completely fallen for this oven application. Sometimes, I don't even envy grillers...sometimes. This is one of those times.

An ideal berry crisp

I had begun a mental list of things I wanted to do without my husband-to-be while his brothers swooped him for a "bachelor" weekend. I thought of any movie, drink, or food that could make a 36 hour appearance, but the list felt silly. When I remembered that he also expressed interest in the new documentary about the gay "voice" I abandoned the list. Despite the fact that he'd likely pay me at this point to stop. discussing. centerpiece flowers. right. now., we like to do most things together.

When a surplus of cherries and blueberries bought for their trip returned home, I noted: berry crisp! on a scratchpad. So today I'm sharing this crisp. It's a go-to. The filling is adapted from Heidi Swanson's 'tutti fruity' filling and isn't too sweet. Berries are already sweet. You don't want them cloyingly so. A little red wine is a weapon in that department.  It is one of the easiest desserts you can make in the summer.


I learned  last fall, after a few apple crisps sourced around the Internet, that one size does not fit all. Just because apples are baked down with a crumble topping it does not a good crumble make. I experienced a goldilocks effect with the three I'd tried and even thought I was 'not that into' apple crisp at one point... until I found the one! And good thing, because I don't think it's possible to not be into apple crisp : )

Chocolate, spelt and mascarpone scones

Mascarpone to me is one of those small wonder ingredients like creme fraiche or a good ricotta, that can seem to pop out of nowhere and steal the show, whether it be from behind the scenes or plain and loudly schmeared into pure white creaminess atop something that demands its contrasting presence. The Italian cream cheese known for its tiramisu attribution, had found a suitable place as an as-close-to English clotted cream we can get, alongside jam for scone topping in my kitchen. But what happened, I wondered, if the cheese went into the dough itself? 

I set to find out using a recipe from the Tiny Buffalo baking company, using figs, mascarpone, a little maple syrup and the usual suspects of scones: butter, flour, cream, as well as a glaze made from concentrated fig preserves. Even when I went the fig route, I skipped the glaze, and they turned out great: lightly sweet, with a little extra something from the cheese. Then I fiddled with swapping in alternate flours, and half + half for cream. I varied the spices, I tried them as cut scones rather than dropped.