SoupSpoon

Daring Baker #12

April's Daring Baker marks my completion of one full year of baking challenges. Being a part of this group opened my kitchen to many experiments that I would never have dared on my own, and for that I am so glad that I joined. From Opera Cake to Eclairs to Lasagna Verdi, each month truly was a challenge.

The April 2009 challenge is hosted by Jenny from Jenny Bakes. She has chosen Abbey's Infamous Cheesecake as the challenge, and I am so glad she did. The recipe appeared to be like any other cheesecake, but the baking technique stood out as unique. While baking, the cheesecake is placed in a boiling water bath, and then post baking the cheesecake is cooled in the oven. This method prevents the cheesecake from cooling to quickly and cracking. Sheer and utter brilliance I tell you. (Those are the tricks worth sticking around Daring Bakers to learn!) I can confidently say this was one of if not the best cheesecakes I have ever tasted. Creamy and fluffy with just enough sweetness.

She gave us autonomy in our flavor selection, and I chose raspberry preserves in a gingersnap crust. ama-zing. Follow the typical graham cracker crust recipe, but use ginger snap cookies in place of graham crackers. (This incidentally is also the perfect crust for pumpkin pie) I used 1/2 cup of raspberry preserves diluted with 2 tablespoons water, and spread one layer over the crust before pouring in the cheesecake filling. I used the rest of the raspberry preserves as a middle layer in the filling, saving just a bit for a drizzle on the top.
Served around the table after a long day in the sun, this was a dessert to make anyone glad to be Daring.

Abbey's Infamous Cheesecake:

crust:
2 cups / 180 g graham cracker crumbs
1 stick / 4 oz butter, melted
2 tbsp. / 24 g sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract

cheesecake:
3 sticks of cream cheese, 8 oz each (total of 24 oz) room temperature
1 cup / 210 g sugar
3 large eggs
1 cup / 8 oz heavy cream
1 tbsp. lemon juice
1 tbsp. vanilla extract (or the innards of a vanilla bean)
1 tbsp liqueur, optional, but choose what will work well with your cheesecake

DIRECTIONS:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (Gas Mark 4 = 180C = Moderate heat). Begin to boil a large pot of water for the water bath.

2. Mix together the crust ingredients and press into your preferred pan. You can press the crust just into the bottom, or up the sides of the pan too - baker's choice. Set crust aside.

3. Combine cream cheese and sugar in the bowl of a stand-mixer (or in a large bowl if using a hand-mixer) and cream together until smooth. Add eggs, one at a time, fully incorporating each before adding the next. Make sure to scrape down the bowl in between each egg. Add heavy cream, vanilla, lemon juice, and alcohol and blend until smooth and creamy.

4. Pour batter into prepared crust and tap the pan on the counter a few times to bring all air bubbles to the surface. Place pan into a larger pan and pour boiling water into the larger pan until halfway up the side of the cheesecake pan. If cheesecake pan is not airtight, cover bottom securely with foil before adding water.

5. Bake 45 to 55 minutes, until it is almost done - this can be hard to judge, but you're looking for the cake to hold together, but still have a lot of jiggle to it in the center. You don't want it to be completely firm at this stage. Close the oven door, turn the heat off, and let rest in the cooling oven for one hour. This lets the cake finish cooking and cool down gently enough so that it won't crack on the top. After one hour, remove cheesecake from oven and lift carefully out of water bath. Let it finish cooling on the counter, and then cover and put in the fridge to chill. Once fully chilled, it is ready to serve.

Pan note: The creator of this recipe used to use a springform pan, but no matter how well she wrapped the thing in tin foil, water would always seep in and make the crust soggy. Now she uses one of those 1-use foil "casserole" shaped pans from the grocery store. They're 8 or 9 inches wide and really deep, and best of all, water-tight. When it comes time to serve, just cut the foil away.

those kinds of days

When daylight lasts a little longer than it did yesterday, and the air feels warm after months of cool, those kinds of days make me deep down glad.

Stephen ended up not having to go out of town for work as he had planned, thus we were given a whole secret Saturday to play instead. We took out the canoe for the first time this season, and floated down the river at a steady snail's pace. I will admit that there was a twinge of sadness looming over the river that day. The last time we were there with her, and this time her spot was empty. A few moments went by where Stephen and I would get pretty quiet, and we both knew what the other person was thinking.
In the middle of a cool river, underneath a warm sun, it is pleasantly safe to be a little sad and a little glad all at the same time.

After paddling down, hiking back, and taking the long way home, we made a batch of homemade ice cream.

Waiting at home was a ripe pineapple. I had mulled over the many options one has with a ripe pineapple, but had not been extremely excited about any of them. After floating downstream, we decided we should make a batch of pineapple banana ice cream. This, my friends, was Stephen's brilliant idea, and I am happy to hang on his coattails.

Not only did we make ice cream, but we then shared it with some of our dearest friends while we laughed on his front porch in the still warm air of the evening. That part makes the whole day kissing close to perfect.

Following the same fantastic vanilla ice cream recipe I used for the Daring Baker Challenge in February, we added fresh crushed pineapple and a sliced banana. Each bite tastes like a tropical vacation. I hope you have some soon.

Pineapple Banana Ice Cream makes about 1/2 gallon
vanilla ice cream recipe adapted from Daring Baker #10

1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 ¼ cups whole milk
4 large egg yolks
12 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tsp corn flour {cornstarch}
1 ¼ cups heavy cream

3/4 cup fresh crushed pineapple
1/2 cup small diced pineapple pieces
1 banana, thinly sliced 

1. Pour the milk into a heavy based saucepan, add the vanilla and bring to the boil
2. Whisk the egg yolks, sugar and corn-flour in a bowl until the mixture is thick and foamy.
3. Gradually pour in the hot milk, whisking constantly.  Return the mixture to the pan and cook over a gentle heat, stirring all the time
4. When the custard thickens and is smooth, pour it back into the bowl. Cool it then chill.
5. Whip the cream until it has thickened but still falls from a spoon.  Fold it into the custard and pour all of it into ice cream maker. Follow ice cream maker (I love my Cuisinart sorbet and ice cream maker with the frozen bowl) directions for freezing and in last 5 minutes of time in ice cream maker, fold in pineapple and banana. Scrape the ice cream into a tupperware and place in freezer for a few hours to firm up. Enjoy

black-eyed pea cakes

More often than not, flipping through a fancy food magazine is more about eye candy than finding actual recipes I end up trying, but this recipe was an exception.

October 2006 Gourmet was a restaurant issue with oodles of radiant ideas inspired by smart restaurants. Coffee-braised beef, asparagus with meyer lemon purée, truffled toast with radicchio and egg: you get the idea? Uber fancy, uber lovely, and uber drool worthy, but too be completely honest, I would be slow to make any of those things.

But towards the middle of the magazine, tucked in the "You asked for it" section, waited what became one of my favorite go-to party foods and dinners. The beauty of these cakes is evident in their depth of flavor, but what endeared them to my heart is their versatility. These same cakes are lovely summer, fall, winter, or spring. Let me explain. In the winter, I make these with an asian pear citrus salsa, as pictured below. In the summer they scream for a ripe tomato salsa doused with lime.  Spring? Early strawberries with red onion and lime. Fall? Cranberry and apple relish. Trust me, these cakes fit in with any crowd.

Some bean cakes are dry or mushy or just plain boring. If you have been turned off from bean cakes by any of those experiences, please give these a fair chance to make you forget all others. With just enough kick to keep you coming back for more, we get pretty excited around this house when these are on the dinner menu. It is practically a party. Oh, speaking of party. If you make these in mini sized cakes, they are perfect for a potluck or appetizer. 

Black-Eyed Pea Cakes makes about 8 cakes
this recipe is from Gourmet October 2006, and I made slight alterations

2 14.5 ounce cans black eyed peas, drained and rinsed
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1/2 minced red onion
1/4 cup minced red bell pepper
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup panko (japanese breadcrumbs)
1/2 jalapeno seeded and minced
2 eggs
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/3 cup cornmeal
olive oil for pan frying

Salsa
2 red tomatoes, diced
1/4 cup minced red onion
1/4 cup chopped cilantro or parsley
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
salt and pepper

1. Drain and rinse peas. Mash half the peas with a potato masher or in a food processor
2. Meanwhile, melt butter in medium skillet over medium heat. Saute onion, bell pepper, jalapeno, and garlic until golden and soft. Set aside to cool
3. Stir panko, eggs, parsley, chives, cumin, salt, and pepper into peas. Stir in sauteed vegetables. If mixture is too wet to hold together when squeezed add more panko. If mixture is too dry add another egg
4. Set mixture in fridge, covered, for 30 minutes
5. Make salsa
6. Once mixture has chilled, form 2 1/2 inch wide cakes that are about 1/2 inch thick. Heat a bit of olive oil in skillet over medium heat. Dredge each cake in a bit of cornmeal and place in warm skillet. Leave them alone for about 5 minutes. Flip and leave again until browned, about 5 more minutes
7. Serve warm cakes with salsa and sour cream
enjoy!

carrot muffins

This recipe has been quietly tucked in the recipe page, and today is finally the day it takes center stage. The first time I made these muffins was for Emily's birthday brunch that also announced the birthday of this blog. Suffice it to say, these are special (and delicious) muffins. Raisins, apple, clove, ginger, and cinnamon all folded in with sweet grated carrots make these moist little muffins a complete and utterly healthy treat.

I usually make them in mini muffin tins, but the batter works just swell in regular muffin tins too. One advantage to the mini muffins is that you feel less guilty when you eat two or three in a row. (When they are mini they are practically just a bite!) They are dangerously delicious, but the upside is that with all of the goodness of apples and carrots you can feel good about being dangerous.

Stephen really loves these. I am not sure if it is the spices or the sweetness or the guilt-free pleasure of eating a relatively healthy baked good, but whatever it is; they do not last long around this house. If you make these, I think you might end up with the same disappearing problem at your house.

Carrot muffins makes 36 mini muffins or 18 regular

2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ginger
½ teaspoon clove
½ teaspoon salt
¾ cup sugar
¼ cup brown sugar
3 carrots, grated (about 2 cups)
1 cup raisins or dried cranberries or a combo
1 large fuji or gala apple, peeled and grated
3 large eggs
½ cup canola oil
½ cup unsweetened applesauce
2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. and oil muffin tins
2. Into a large bowl sift together flour, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, clove and salt. Whisk in sugars.
3. Add shredded carrots and raisins to flour mixture. Stir well.
4. In a bowl whisk together eggs, applesauce, oil, and vanilla. Stir grated apple into egg mixture and fold gently into flour mixture.
5. Gently fold the batter, scooping from bottom of the bowl, 13 times to just combine. Do not over beat.
6. Divide batter among muffin cups, filling them three fourths full, and bake in middle of oven until puffed and a tester comes out clean
7. Mini muffins take 15 minutes. Regular muffins take about 20.
8. Cool muffins in cups on racks 5 minutes before turning out onto racks to cool completely. Muffins keep in an airtight container at room temperature 5 days.

Carrot muffins makes 36 mini muffins or 18 regular

2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ginger
½ teaspoon clove
½ teaspoon salt
¾ cup sugar
¼ cup brown sugar
3 carrots, grated (about 2 cups)
1 cup raisins or dried cranberries or a combo
1 large fuji or gala apple, peeled and grated
3 large eggs
½ cup canola oil
½ cup unsweetened applesauce
2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. and oil muffin tins
2. Into a large bowl sift together flour, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, clove and salt. Whisk in sugars.
3. Add shredded carrots and raisins to flour mixture. Stir well.
4. In a bowl whisk together eggs, applesauce, oil, and vanilla. Stir grated apple into egg mixture and fold gently into flour mixture.
5. Gently fold the batter, scooping from bottom of the bowl, 13 times to just combine. Do not over beat.
6. Divide batter among muffin cups, filling them three fourths full, and bake in middle of oven until puffed and a tester comes out clean
7. Mini muffins take 15 minutes. Regular muffins take about 20.
8. Cool muffins in cups on racks 5 minutes before turning out onto racks to cool completely. Muffins keep in an airtight container at room temperature 5 days.

feeding friends

In the middle of drizzling olive oil over thinly sliced red potatoes a smile broke across my face. Gazing at the prettiness of it all, with a big cheeky grin, I felt so deep down glad I get to feed people. There is little else in life that so richly satisfies me as the hearty laughter, warm bellies, and kicked back posture that finishes a meal. The joy I feel cannot be articulated except to say that in those moments, after filling other people's bellies, my heart feels full.

Friends usually pass through my kitchen on their way into my life, and there at the counter I have the echoes of their voices. When I stand at the cutting board, my mind gets to wander through all the meals we have shared. (I count that blessing twice.) When I mince or mix or whisk, I get to remember the jokes you told, the tears we cried, the disagreements healthfully sorted out over a prayer and a good plate. These are the thoughts that fill my mind when I stand at the counter. How could I ever tire of that?

Today, as I toss together a simple potato salad, I am happily waiting for tonight when a whole group of the dearest people in the world come to our house for dinner. Tonight in honor of our dear friend Sarah's art opening, we are celebrating with the first real cookout of the season. Hamburgers, potato salad, a Peruvian salad Sarah learned when she lived there, and a cooler full of ice cold ale on the porch: this is the way to eat with friends. If we are really lucky I might just snag a picture of Sarah making the salad, and then tell you all about it soon.

Roasted Red Potato Salad with Celery, Green Onions,
and Grainy Dijon Dressing serves 10

about 15 small red potatoes, washed and sliced into 1/4 inch rings
3 cups diced celery (from about 6 stalks)
1/2 cup sliced green onions
1/3 cup grainy french style mustard (you need to use a grainy mustard, the yellow stuff won't cut it)
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup mayonnaise

1. Toss potato slices in a drizzle of olive oil, a good pinch of salt, and a few cracks of black pepper and roast at 400 on a parchment lined baking pan for 35-40 minutes until browned on the edges and tender. Set aside to cool completely
2. Mix together grainy mustard, apple cider vinegar, and mayonnaise. Toss dressing in a large bowl with celery and green onions. Gently fold in cooled potatoes. Salt and pepper to taste. enjoy