Oh hey……….zelnut and brown butter

OH MY SWEET FANCY MOSES I LOVE THIS CAKE. Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I can speak about it like a normal person. Well. No. I can’t, but I can speak about it like I would normally speak about it, which is somewhere north or east of the normal of a normal person. Right?

You know how I don’t like to repeat recipes? I mean, I do, but not super often. Well this cake. I’ve made it 4 times. And can we be honest? This cake is kind of a bitch to make. It’s not easy 1-bowl mix it in the kitchenaid and then throw it in the oven cake. It is cursing the day you were born while peeling hazelnuts (HONESTLY they are little devils) blending them and cutting yourself scraping hazelnut flour off the blender blades whipping egg whites in a frenzy and then FOLDING THEM (which I hate) and multi-stepped multi-bowled crazy ass PROCESS. But I do it. Willingly. Enthusuastically, even.

If you took a bite of this cake, you would know why. Your eyes would widen and you would say, oh now THIS. THIS is a CAKE.

And THAT is butter browning, friends. Do you see all those golden flecks? That is some fucking majestic shit right there. Browned butter. Can’t emphasize enough the power of brown butter. And those black specks? Vanilla seeds. Yes, this cake is flecked with all sorts of nutty dots of delicious goodness.

And you fold the brown butter and the ground up hazelnuts with like 5 stiffly beaten egg whites, which gives the cake its lift (no baking powder or soda in this baby).

Oh and you can slather it with some bittersweet chocolate ganache. If you want. If you want to LIVE. You do want to live. Right? Well, I’m afraid the only answer is to make this cake. Immediately. I will see you later you’re welcome in advance.

Hazelnut Brown Butter Cake
Adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques via Smitten Kitchen

5 ounces (about one heaping cup) hazelnuts, blanched to remove dark skins
1/2 pound unsalted butter (plus 1 tablespoon melted extra for greasing the pan)
1/2 vanilla bean
1 1/3 cups powdered sugar, plus extra for dusting the cake
1/3 cups all-purpose flour
5 extra-large egg whites
3 tablespoons granulated sugar

Preheat oven to 350 °F.
Spread the hazelnuts on a baking sheet, and toast 12 to 15 minutes, until they’re golden brown and smell nutty. Let them cool.
Cut out a circle of parchment paper to fit in the bottom of a 10-inch round cake pan. Brush the pan with a little melted butter and line the bottom with the paper.
Place the rest of the butter in a medium saucepan. Slice the vanilla bean lengthwise down the center, and using a paring knife to scrape the seeds and pulp onto the butter. To make sure not to lose any of the seeds, run your vanilla-coated knife through the butter. Add the vanilla pod to the pan, and cook the butter until the butter browns and smells nutty (about 6 to 8 minutes). It helps to frequently scrape the solids off the bottom of the pan in the last couple minutes to ensure even browning. Set aside to cool. Remove the vanilla pod and discard.
Grind the hazelnuts with the confectioners’ sugar in a food processor until they’re finely ground. Add the flour and pulse to combine. Transfer to a large bowl.
Place the egg whites in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Add the granulated sugar and mix on high speed 4 to 5 minutes, until the mixture forms very stiff peaks. When you turn the whisk upside down, the peaks should hold. Transfer the whites to a large mixing bowl.
Alternate folding the dry ingredients and the brown butter into the egg whites, a third of a time. Remember to scrap the bottom of the brown butter pan with a rubber spatula to get all the little brown bits.
Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan, and bake for 50 minutes to 1 hour (or kinda much less, like 40 minutes). Cool on a rack 30 minutes. Run a knife around the inside edge of the pan, and invert the cake onto a plate. Peel off the paper, and turn the cake back over onto a serving platter. Sprinkle it with powdered sugar or cover with ganache (below).

Draping Ganache for 10-inch Cake

4 ounces semisweet chocolate chips or finely-chopped chocolate
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon instant coffee granules

Melt the chocolate, heavy cream, and coffee in the top of a double boiler over simmering water until smooth and warm, stirring occasionally. Drizzle over the top of the cake.

These bite.

Well, no. They’re ok. But they’re not awesome, MARTHA. (we’re not going to talk about martha in this post anymore).  I was testing them out as possible cookies to bake for an upcoming conference. I thought the light espresso flavor and chocolate ganache filling would be a nice lil snack. WRONG.

These were fucking fussy. And the cookie was on the flavorless side. And they didn’t stay crunchy for long, which made for soggy and sandy cookies, a very odd combination. They fell flat. On their little faces. Like me in a soccer game every 10 minutes or so.

But piping ganache into sandwich cookies? That’s the kind of thing mama likes. So we tried it. We did. We wanted to embrace the fussiness and find that fussiness=excellent end product.

But they just didn’t cut it. The comments I got on this cookie were as follows:

Not sweet enough
Too floury

Not the kind of endorsements you want on a final product that ate the better part of your Sunday morning.

They’re cute though, right? It’s one of those life lessons, people. Cuteness can’t carry cookies. GOD I LOVE IT WHEN I HAPPEN UPON ALLITERATIONS ACCIDENTALLY. I nerd out a little. I write it and then I smile and kinda look around to see if there’s anyone near me with whom I can share this wonderful news but of course it’s just me and my computer so I just kinda smile to myself for like 15 seconds and then go back to typing. Which surprises you immensely, I can tell.

Here’s the conclusion paragraph, wherein I wrap up my general thesis and make a final statement. Here goes, English 114 professor I think your name was Kathy something: These tiny and delicate cookies, although promising in both fun potential and flavor combination, failed to provide adequate end results to make up for their staggeringly apparent downfalls, and I don’t recommend you make these with any sort of high hopes or read the book 100 Years of Solitude because I tried to read that book like four separate times and man I just could NOT get into it even though everyone says it’s so fucking GREAT and god though I couldn’t even tell what character he was EVER TALKING ABOUT and how do you keep all those crazy ass names straight they’re like all the same name and also can you like not switch back and forth between a million different time periods and why do you live to confuse me Gabriel Garcia Marquez?

Professor’s comments: A+

Cappuccino-Chocolate Bites
from Martha Stewart’s Cookies

2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 tbsp finely ground espresso beans
1/8 teaspoon coarse salt
6 tbsp unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 cup confectioner’s sugar, plus more for dusting
1/4 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/3 cup heavy cream
2 1/2 oz milk chocolate, finely chopped (i used semi-sweet)
unsweetened cocoa powder, for dusting

Whisk flour, espresso, and salt in a bowl. Put butter and sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle, and mix on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy. Mix in vanilla. Add flour mixture; mix on medium-low until dough comes together. Shape into a disk and wrap in plastic. Refrigerate 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350. Let dough stand at room temperature 10 minutes. Roll between sheets of parchment to 1/8″ thick. Cut out rounds with a 1 1/8″ round cutter; space 1/2″ apart on baking sheets lined with parchment. Reroll scraps; cut out. Freeze 10 minutes.

Bake until set but not browned, about 9 minutes. Let cool on sheets 5 minutes. Transfer to wire racks; cool completely.

Bring cream to a simmer. Pour over chocolate; stir until smooth. Press plastic onto surface; refrigerate at least 4 hours or up to overnight. Whisk to soft peaks; transfer to a pastry bag fitted with a 1/4″ plain round tip. Pipe about 1 tsp filling on bottoms of half the cookies. Dust with cocoa and confectioner’s sugar. Cookies can be refrigerated in an airtight container up to 1 day.

Not arugula

Rugelach. Say it with me. Rooogehlahh. There’s no “a” in front, because that would be Arugula, which is pretty much the exact opposite of these jewish pastries. Arugula: green, wet, bitter. Rugelach: golden, flaky, sweet. It’s like how laughter and slaughter are one letter off. I think they do it to fuck with us.

So. Rugelach. Kind of a lot of work. But so so worth it. I’ve made them before from a much more complicated recipe, and I can’t say I remember if these are on par with the last ones. All I can say is I thoroughly enjoyed the first ones I made and I thoroughly enjoyed these, so everybody wins. (And now mentioning the word slaughter has me thinking of Slaughterhouse 5 and Billy Pilgrim and all that crazy time shit that goes on, and I can’t help picturing myself existing at these 2 separate moments in this stream of time, enjoying rugelach at each moment in a very similar way and suddenly my mind feels all woozy)

I don’t know, what else can I say about rugelach? Have you ever had them? They’re real good. Basically you make a dough and then top it like a pizza of deliciousness and cut it into triangles and roll them up. The best part about rugelach is that they get better like a day or two after you make them. When they’ve kinda cooled and condensed they’re downright phenomenal, and I appreciate a pastry that doesn’t have to be eaten right out of the oven (because that usually means I eat them all within 30 minutes of making them because They Won’t Taste As Good Later and goodness knows I do not need any more reasons to finish off 30 croissants by myself, you dig?).

Also you can vary the filling depending on your taste. For these I used raspberry jam, chopped walnuts, raisins, chocolate chips, cinnamon, and sugar. But you could go apricot jam, no jam at all, dried currants, just chocolate, rolled in cinnamon and sugar, whatever. It’s basically open to anything that you feel might be delicious wrapped in a buttery, cream cheesey, flaky pastry dough.

Of which there are many things. Oh so many, many, many, many things. Now. You do it!

Rugelach
from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home to Yours

For the dough
4 ounces cold cream cheese, cut into pieces
1 stick cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt

For the filling
2/3 cup raspberry jam, apricot jam or marmalade
2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup chopped nuts (i used walnuts)
1/4 cup plump, moist dried currants (i used raisins)
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped, or 2/3 cup store-bought mini chocolate chips

For the glaze
1 large egg
1 teaspoon cold water
2 tablespoons sugar, preferably coarse sugar

For the dough
1) Let the cream cheese and butter rest on counter for 10 minutes. It should be slightly softened but cool.
2) Put the flour and salt in a food processor, scatter over the chunks of cream cheese and butter and pulse the machine for 6 to 10 minutes. Then process, scraping down the sides of the bowl often, just until the dough forms large curds. Do not work the dough too long that it forms a ball on the blade.
3) Remove the dough from the food processor, divide into half, shape each half into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap and then refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or up to a day. (Wrap airtight, the dough can be frozen for up to 2 months.)

To make the filling
1) Heat the jam in a saucepan over low heat, or microwave until it liquefies. Mix sugar and cinnamon together.
2) Line 2 baking sheets with parchment or silicone mats.

To shape the cookies
1) Pull one packet of dough from the refrigerator. If it is too firm to roll easily, leave it on the counter for about 10 minutes or give it a few bashes with your rolling pin.
2) On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough into an 11- to 12-inch circle. Spoon (or brush) a thin gloss of jam over the dough, and sprinkle over half of the cinnamon sugar.
3) Scatter over half of the nuts, half of the chopped chocolate and half of the currants. Cover the filling with a piece of wax paper and gently press the filling into the dough, then remove the paper and save it for the next batch.
4) Using a pizza wheel or a sharp knife, cut the dough into 16 wedges, or triangles.
5) Starting at the base of each triangle, roll the dough up so that each triangle becomes a little crescent.
6) Arrange the roll-ups on one baking sheet, making sure the points are tucked under the cookies, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. (The cookies can be refrigerate overnight or frozen for up to 2 months; don’t defrost before baking, just add a couple of minutes to the baking time.)

Getting ready to bake
1) Position the racks to divide the oven into thirds and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

To glaze
1) Stir the egg and water together. Brush a bit of the glaze over each rugelach. Sprinkle the cookies with sugar.
2) Bake the cookies for 20 to 25 minutes, rotating the sheets from top to bottom and front to back at the midway point, until they are puffed and golden.
3) Transfer the cookies to racks to cool to just warm or to room temperature.

Now I know what vegan butter is

So I was standing in front of the butter fridge in Rainbow Grocery, and clearly I’m having a hard time finding what I need because I’ve been standing there for like 5 minutes at this point. Some guy behind me goes, having trouble choosing, huh? And I’m all, yeah, and this is just BUTTER. And he kinda chuckles like yeah I know what you mean lady, and then I see what I’m looking for and I hesitate a moment before I grab a package of “vegan butter” and, I don’t know why, but I get the feeling that I let that guy down. I walked away with my head down all I DON’T USUALLY DO THIS, like I was buying, I don’t know, herpes cream or something. But I mean it’s true, I don’t do this, and I so wish I had grabbed a big hunk of plugra or irish cream butter so I could look that guy in the eye and feel like, yes, I spent 5 minutes looking at the butter but it’s because I have good taste in butter and I was just being choosy. Because like that guy even CARES and, also, I am insane.

But as it was I left with my package of Earth Balance or some shit. And it was embarrassing and I don’t know WHY. I think it’s because I really have some subconscious THING about butter. I love it and I almost felt like I was cheating on it with whatever the shit is in Earth Balance. I don’t want it to think this was anything more than a one-time thing, a perverse curiosity. I don’t want it to think I’m not going to pay attention to it, and brown it, and mix it with fresh herbs, and clarify it, and spread it on fresh bread, and lick it off my fingers after greasing a pan.

Butter, tell me you know this. TELL ME. Anyway. Back to the vegan cookies I made. I’m making a big deal about this butter thing, I know. But you know something cool about these cookies? So, instead of eggs they use ground up flaxseeds blended with water. It’s COOL! You put them in a blender and liquefy the living shit out of them and then it transforms into a gelatinous fluid–not unlike an egg white. And though I don’t recommend TASTING the fluid, because oh god, it tastes like a public bus bench after 3 old men farted on it in quick succession, it’s a neat experiment. I like feeling like I’m creating things. I picture myself in a laboratory holding up vials of this flaxseed jelly stuff swirling it around under the light with goggles on, nodding to myself like, yes, this is precisely the reaction I was expecting. Don’t you?

Know what else is cool about these vegan cookies? You SO cannot tell they are vegan. YOU SO CAN’T and I dare you to try it. They’re chewy! And great! They taste great! Weeeeee!!!!!!!

Vegan Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
from I can’t remember where, I copied it down from a cookbook while I sat in Borders, please don’t sue me

2 tbsp ground flaxseed
6 tbsp water
1 cup non-hydrogenated nondairy butter
1 1/2 cups packed brown sugar
2 tsps vanilla extract
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup oat bran
3/4 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
3 cups rolled oats
1 cup raisins

Preheat oven to 350. Lightly oil 3 cookie sheets (or line with parchment).

In a blender, whip together the flaxseed and water until thick & creamy. Cream together the butter, sugars, vanilla, and flaxseed mixture until well-blended. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, oat bran, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Add to the butter mixture & mix until well blended and smooth. Stir in the rolled oats and raisins until thoroughly combined.

Use a tbsp to scoop up some dough and with lightly greased hands press the cookies to form 1/2″ thick rounds. Bake until the cookies are golden brown, 12 to 15 minutes. Remove from the oven & allow the cookies to firm up a few minutes while still on the cookie sheet. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

Yield: 3 1/2 dozen cookies

Martha Martha Martha

Let’s face it. If Martha Stewart and I were sisters, she’d obviously be Marsha and I’d obviously be Jan. I say this as my knee heals from a soccer injury and my left leg is in a boot from a running one. I say this after I’ve set things on fire, burned myself countless times, exploded things, accidentally dropped entire bowls of things, and generally made a mess of things in the kitchen. Martha would watch me cook and then need to go to the hospital for Excessive But Stoically Contained Disgust.

That there is the only picture I took of these cookies, from my newly purchased cookbook, Martha’s Cookies. I’m not going to lie, Martha and I have had a tumultuous relationship. But dammit if I don’t respect her. And these cookies are precisely the reason why. Banana walnut chocolate chunk?! Why didn’t I THINK of that?

I made these cookies at the end of a marathon baking session on Monday night (hence the lack of pictures, because at this point my lungs had actually adapted to BREATHE FLOUR). I was providing treats for 50 people at a small conference, and from what I’ve heard, these got the most requests for the recipe. I am not surprised. They made my kitchen smell wonderfully, and if I hadn’t been so crazed by the end of the night I might’ve enjoyed a few with a glass of milk. As it was I was driving with a box of semi-warm cookies to Oakland and then taking the BART back at midnight with some particularly savory characters.

This picture is my box of cookies without the banana walnut chocolate chunk ones in their respective cubby hole. What you are looking at is a small feat of engineering, and although MARTHA would’ve packaged her cookies (already cooled) in custom boxes lined with some darling old wrapping paper she just had LYING AROUND, mine cost considerably less and it got the job done, so don’t even LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT MARTHA, because I KNOW you don’t even do that shit by yourself, you have minions working around the clock lining boxes with $50 wrapping paper so you can just saunter out like, oh, this? this is just something I made the other day while my souffles were rising. It’s a lie, Martha, and my box from a 24-pack of beer portioned into 3 and then lined with aluminum foil might not be the most attractive vessel in the history of cookie transport, but dammit, it’s HONEST. And until my insider trading dividends start rolling in, there will be no custom box-making at chez kat in the kitch.

Banana Walnut Chocolate Chunk Cookies
from Martha’s Cookies

1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened (1 1/2 sticks)
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1/2 cup mashed banana (approx 1 large banana..but I used 2)
1 cup old fashioned oats
8 ounces semisweet chocolate, coarsely cut into chunks approx 1/4-inch (i used chips. lame, i know. whatever Martha STOP LOOKING AT ME)
1/2 cup coarsely chopped walnuts, toasted

Preheat oven to 375.
Combine flours, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl. Set aside.
Put butter & sugars into bowl of electric mixer fitted with paddle. Mix on medium speed until pale and fluffy. Reduce speed to low. Add egg and vanilla; mix until combined. Mix in banana. Add flour mixture, mix until just combined. Stir in oats, chocolate chunks, and walnuts.
Using 1 1/2″ ice cream scoop drop dough onto baking sheets lined with parchment paper, spacing about 2″ apart.
Bake cookies until golden brown and just set, 12-13 minutes. Cool on sheets 5 minutes; transfer to wire rack to complete cooling.
Can be stored in airtight containers up to 2 days.

Can I interest you in some overcooked rhubarb bread?

Hey. I can’t form complicated sentences today. Or sentences at all. Here’s the rundown:

Rhubarb bread. Went to sister’s. Doubled recipe. Didn’t realize recipe already made 2 loaves. Cooked 4 loaves’ worth in 2 pans.

Bread was unevenly cooked. Surprise! Still pretty good. Great honey flavor. Addition of nuts questionable.

Useful recipe for those with rhubarb in their gardens. Otherwise, file under “To Bake If Too Much Rhubarb.”

Bad pictures. Apologies. Late night cooking equals shitty lighting. You forgive me.

Millions of cookies en route. Brace thyself.

Rhubarb Bread
from the Vermont Beekeeper’s Cookbook

1 egg
1 cup honey
1/2 cup melted butter
1/2 cup orange or pineapple juice
1 1/2 cups finely chopped rhubarb
3/4 cups chopped nuts
2 1/2 cups flour
2 tsps baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp powdered ginger (we only had fresh. woe is us)

Preheat the oven to 350. In a large bowl beat egg, honey, butter, and juice together. Stir in rhubarb and nuts. Sift flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and ginger together. Combine wet and dry ingredients. Stir just to mix. Pour batter into 2 medium greased loaf pans. Bake 35 to 40 minutes. When done, cool 10 minutes, and remove from pans.

A cake in sheep’s clothing

Everyone knows about muffins, right? Everyone at this point understands that they are nothing more than cake in small, tapered, cylindrical shapes. Right? If you don’t know that, I’m sorry to break this to you, but muffins are cake. In some instances they are less healthy than cake. (Unless we’re talking about frosting, which we are not)

So I’m sorry if this message is tantamount to hearing that the Easter Bunny doesn’t exist, or when I found out that, in real life, Mos Def is kind of a jerk (but he’s so cute in Be Kind, Rewind! i know. listen, ladies…he has fathered 8 children with 4 women. this points to the conclusion that Mos Def is probably kind of a jerk. or at the very least…a man. OHHH ZING! good thing i only have like 3 male readers). But really, if you didn’t know that, you need to know.  It doesn’t mean you still can’t eat muffins, but I want you to be aware of what you’re getting.

Which is not to say that there aren’t some muffins that are healthier than cake. There are. Corn muffins, carrot muffins,  zucchini muffins. But those? Sorry friends. They’re just quick-breads. In a muffin shape.

But you know all this. And we’re here to talk specifically about these blueberry muffins, so let’s stay on topic here. I’m assuming you also know that blueberry muffins are the best kind of muffins, right? Because, really, what compares? Remember making them from the package with that delightful streusel topping? God they’re fucking delicious. And then sometimes you get some from the deli or the supermarket or wherever and they taste kinda poison-y? What is UP with that? All I know is that there is no greater discrepancy between home-made and store-bought than as is displayed by the blueberry muffin.

All the more reason for you to make this recipe. Which you should, because these are really phenomenal blueberry muffins. They even got an enthusiastic thumbs up from my roommate’s boyfriend, who is an aspiring chef. So they’re the real deal.

Plus you get to swirl blueberry sauce in with a chopstick! FUN TIMES IN THE KITCH. So go on and eat muffins for breakfast. You can even tell yourself they’re healthy, because they have blueberries!! God knows how many times I’ve used the But It Has Berries In It justification for eating something really sugary and buttery (berry pies i am looking RIGHT AT YOU).  Because although the jig is up….it’s still a jig, right? So LET’S DANCE (hahaaaa, but seriously, why do you even READ this blog? i’m completely unbearable).

Best Blueberry Muffins
From Cook’s Illustrated, May 1, 2009

Makes 12 muffins. (or about 40 mini muffins)

If buttermilk is unavailable, substitute 3/4 cup plain whole-milk or low-fat yogurt thinned with 1/4 cup milk.

Lemon-Sugar Topping

1/3 cup sugar (2 1/3 ounces)
1 1/2 teaspoons finely grated zest from 1 lemon

Muffins

2 cups fresh blueberries (about 10 ounces), picked over (I used frozen berries, defrosted under warm running water)
1 1/8 cups sugar (8 ounces) plus 1 teaspoon
2 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (12 1/2 ounces)
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon table salt
2 large eggs
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 cup buttermilk (see note)
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1. FOR THE TOPPING: Stir together sugar and lemon zest in small bowl until combined; set aside.

2. FOR THE MUFFINS: Adjust oven rack to upper-middle position and heat oven to 425 degrees. Spray standard muffin tin with nonstick cooking spray. Bring 1 cup blueberries and 1 teaspoon sugar to simmer in small saucepan over medium heat. Cook, mashing berries with spoon several times and stirring frequently, until berries have broken down and mixture is thickened and reduced to ¼ cup, about 6 minutes. Transfer to small bowl and cool to room temperature, 10 to 15 minutes.

3. Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt together in large bowl. Whisk remaining 11/8 cups sugar and eggs together in medium bowl until thick and homogeneous, about 45 seconds. Slowly whisk in butter and oil until combined. Whisk in buttermilk and vanilla until combined. Using rubber spatula, fold egg mixture and remaining cup blueberries into flour mixture until just moistened. (Batter will be very lumpy with few spots of dry flour; do not overmix.)

4. Following photos below, use ice cream scoop or large spoon to divide batter equally among prepared muffin cups (batter should completely fill cups and mound slightly). Spoon teaspoon of cooked berry mixture into center of each mound of batter. Using chopstick or skewer, gently swirl berry filling into batter using figure-eight motion. Sprinkle lemon sugar evenly over muffins.

5. Bake until muffin tops are golden and just firm, 17 to 19 minutes, rotating muffin tin from front to back halfway through baking time. Cool muffins in muffin tin for 5 minutes, then transfer to wire rack and cool 5 minutes before serving.

Thrice is nice

This is the third banana bread recipe I am posting to this site, and the second in about a two week time period. So I understand that Look you’re giving me. You’re all, what is the deeeeeal with you and banana bread? Especially after I made such a big fucking scene about the last one (you still need to make that, by the way). To be honest, I don’t know the answer to that question. I don’t even really consider myself to be a huge banana bread fan. Or, I guess I should say I didn’t. Until these 2 breads. After these breads I feel differently. I feel butterflies.

I didn’t know I could feel this way about banana bread. I really didn’t. This is like one of those movies in which banana bread is my best friend and he’s kinda awkward and wears weird clothing and has an adorable nickname and he’s always THERE for me and I’m chasing after like, fucking, chocolate almond croissant, but banana bread is my shoulder to cry on when when chocolate almond croissant turns out to be just another dick (surprise!), and he agrees to take me to the dance after I get stood up and then I see him in his tuxedo and he hands me a corsage and I realize that, christ!, it’s been right in front of me the whole time! Sweet, subtle, easy-going banana bread is it! And I take the corsage from him but I kinda let my fingers touch his hand as I do it, and our eyes lock and then, I don’t know, we end up spending the whole night walking and talking and he drops me off at my house and we kiss and I FEEL THAT SPARK and the credits roll.

THIS IS WHAT THAT WAS LIKE. Because, readers, I ate 3/4 of this banana bread loaf. By myself. And I kept doing that thing that girls do when they’re being dumb…cutting off the tiniest of slivers of the bread all “ok, I’m just going to have this much and it’ll satisfy my craving but I won’t have to eat a whole piece” and then I completely undermine that whole notion by going back 90 TIMES to cut 90 TINY SLIVERS and then near the end I’m all, oh what the hell, and I’m just gnawing on the end of the loaf.

I’ll tell you why I love this banana bread so much. 1) It’s healthy! I know that because I got it from my Moosewood New Classics cookbook (I’ve been reunited with some of my cookbooks and it feels SO GOOD) and those bitches do not lie, and they include all the caloric whatevers, and there’s only 1/3 cup of oil in the whole loaf, and that is not a lot of oil at all. 2) It uses 3 types of “flour”–which is to say, regular flour and then oats and flax seeds ground up into flour form, and that is just so INTERESTING to me. I love it when recipes surprise me with techniques and I’m all, why didn’t I think of that? and then the answer is, because I am not a professional baker. Plus I got to use my new spice grinder (got it for like $20…I highly recommend you getting one. you can grind your own coffee and nuts and whatever in small batches if you’re food-processor-less like me) 3) IT IS MOIST. I know some of you don’t like that word, but I have no other descriptor that nails it like moist. This is a moist bread. It’s moistfully wonderful.

I don’t know, there are other reasons. And also, we had 3 bananas going bad in our fridge, and I hate to waste, and I had all the rest of the ingredients on hand (except for the flax, which I substituted with sesame seeds, which were lovely). So it was a low-maintenance and ultimately surprisingly wonderful bread. And I threw some dried cranberries in there for good measure cause I like me some tarty bursts.

And oh my god, with cream cheese? and a cup of chai? and the New York Times Magazine crossword? on a bright and autumnal San Francisco morning? Well, I don’t believe in heaven. But if there was one, this would be it for me.

Flaxseed Banana Bread
from Moosewood Restaurant New Classics

1/3 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup brown sugar, packed (see? that is soo not a lot of sugar)
2 eggs
1/3 cup nonfat plain yogurt
1 cup mashed bananas (about 3)
1/2 cup rolled oats, ground into flour
1/4 cup flaxseeds, ground into flour
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour (I used all-purpose)
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
(I also added about 1/2 cup dried cranberries, which I HIGHLY RECOMMEND)

Preheat the oven to 350. Butter or oil a 5×9″ bread pan.

In a mixing bowl, combine the oil and brown sugar. Add the eggs and beat well. Mix in the yogurt and bananas. In a separate bowl or a blender, combine the three flours, the baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add the dry mixture to the banana mixture and stir just until combined. (Stir in the cranberries here)

Pour the batter into the prepared baking pan and bake for about 1 hour or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from the oven and place the pan on a rack to cool for 10 minutes. Tip the bread out of the pan onto a platter to cool completely.

Raspberry Rhubarb revelations (can I get a high five for alliterations?) ((and a rhyme, double swish!))

My sister, crafty woman that she is, recently brought back a garden’s worth of bounty from our parents’ home on Long Island. Basically she flew across the country with little else in her suitcase besides: jars of honey (the new harvest, woot!) and raspberry jam, rhubarb, and…fresh raspberries! She gchatted me early in the week and said: when are you coming over to make raspberry rhubarb pie? And I was all, when am I NOT coming over to make raspberry rhubarb pie? The answer to which I do not know, because double negatives always confuse me.

The gist is that I have been wanting to make raspberry rhubarb pie for QUITE SOME TIME NOW. Because strawberry-rhubarb is my. favorite. pie. ever. and you know how much I like pie (do you not know how much I like pie? i like pie. i like it a whole lot). So, since I love raspberries more than strawberries, substituting them into my favorite pie felt like a really obvious move.

As far as this recipe goes, my sister and I (ok, I will take most of the blame here since sister was sick and contributed only minimally) took some liberties. We took a whole Constitution worth of liberties. We substituted ALL the white flour for whole wheat pastry flour. I know what you’re thinking: bold move, sisters. Bold indeed. We had no idea how it was going to turn out, but since there was so much tarty fruit going into this shell, we weren’t concerned.

It was extremely hard to roll out. Very soft, even after refrigerated. Transfer to the pie shell was a disaster, of course, so I ended up kinda pressing the shell in there and squishing it together and calling it good enough. We also didn’t have enough brown sugar, didn’t have corn starch at all, and didn’t have cider vinegar for the pie dough. So you’re looking at probably the first pie dough to ever be made with rice vinegar. And I said I wasn’t going to do any ground-breaking baking. Check THAT out.

Half the brown sugar was substituted with white sugar, the corn starch became tapioca starch, and we added rolled oats and more butter to the topping. Because, listen readers, I have figured out the secret behind Cooking Light. They don’t look for alternatives to fat. They just cut the recipe in half. Of course there’s half the fat when there’s HALF THE RECIPE. When we made the topping we were like, this is it? This is supposed to cover an entire pie? It literally just looked like it was half a recipe for pie topping. So we were like, f this s, we want our pie wearing a sweater of topping, not a tube top of topping. So we took liberties, friends. Because we live in America, and we CAN.

And do you SEE HOW IT TURNED OUT? I’m so glad we upped that topping. I regret nothing. We (read: me) also didn’t read the directions through (i know. you’re CHOKING on surprise here), so I just put the topping on before we stuck it in the oven. The recipe says bake the pie 40 minutes and then top it, and then bake it 15 more. That doesn’t compute with me, and I don’t know why they say to do that, so I’m going to ignore it because that is so not how I make a crumbly topped pie. So suck it Cooking Light, please explain yourselves, and stop halving the topping in the name of lightness, that is ridiculous.

Here’s the part where I tell you how amazing the pie is. Because, really, it’s a fantastic pie. My sister and I, drunk on our own success, spent like 15 minutes coming up with stretched metaphors about this pie vs. strawberry rhubarb pie. I’m going to see if I can explain it here (with full knowledge that in the hangover of this morning, it really isn’t all that clever and/or humorous): This pie is excellent…WITH VANILLA ICE CREAM. It is a good pie WITHOUT vanilla ice cream, but it is phenomenal with it. Strawberry rhubarb pie is ALWAYS GREAT. Always. With vanilla ice cream. Without vanilla ice cream. Eaten out of a hat. Warm. Room temp. Refrigerated. Whatever. So here’s our really clever analogy: This pie is like Johnny Depp. Mr Depp is a good looking man. But sometimes, when his hair cut is just right, he BLOWS IT OUT OF THE WATER. He’s got this edge, this je ne sais quoi, this intriguing hotness that makes you literally drop your jaw. Strawberry rhubarb pie is like Brad Pitt. He is always. hot. Always. His haircuts do not make a difference. He can wear a douchey fedora. He can be long-haired, crew-cutted, whatever. He always looks good. But you know, he just doesn’t have that EDGE. That extra TANG. And you know, sometimes Johnny’s tang can be too much. He needs the ice cream. He needs that perfect hair cut. But when he nails it, holy twisted panties, does he nail it. And, joy of joys, we had that vanilla ice cream in our freezer. And now you know how I feel about this pie.

Raspberry-Rhubarb Pie
from Cooking Light, June 2009

Ingredients

2  tablespoons  uncooked quick-cooking tapioca

4 1/2  cups  fresh raspberries (about 24 ounces)

3 1/2  cups  chopped fresh rhubarb (about 6 stalks)

1  cup  packed brown sugar

1/4  cup  cornstarch

2  tablespoons  crème de cassis (black currant–flavored liqueur)

1/8  teaspoon  salt

1/2  (15-ounce) package refrigerated pie dough (such as Pillsbury)

Cooking spray

6  tablespoons  all-purpose flour

1/4  cup  sliced almonds

2  tablespoons  brown sugar

2  tablespoons  chilled butter, cut into small pieces

1/4  teaspoon  almond extract

1/8  teaspoon  salt

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350°.

2. Place tapioca in a spice or coffee grinder; process until finely ground. Combine tapioca, raspberries, and next 5 ingredients (through 1/8 teaspoon salt) in a bowl; toss well. Let raspberry mixture stand 10 minutes; stir to combine.

3. Roll 1 (9-inch) dough portion into an 11-inch circle. Fit dough into a 9-inch pie plate coated with cooking spray, draping excess dough over edges. Spoon raspberry mixture and any remaining liquid into dough. Fold edges under; flute. Bake at 350° for 40 minutes.

4. While pie bakes, place flour and remaining ingredients in a food processor; pulse 10 times or until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

5. Increase the oven temperature to 375°.

6. Sprinkle topping evenly over pie. Bake at 375° for 15 minutes or until topping is golden brown and filling is thick and bubbly. Cool completely on a wire rack.

2  tablespoons  uncooked quick-cooking tapioca (meh. DELETE)
4 1/2  cups  fresh raspberries (about 24 ounces)
3 1/2  cups  chopped fresh rhubarb (about 6 stalks)
1  cup  packed brown sugar
1/4  cup  cornstarch (or tapioca starch)
2  tablespoons  crème de cassis (black currant–flavored liqueur) (double meh. DELETE)
1/8  teaspoon  salt
1/2  (15-ounce) package refrigerated pie dough (such as Pillsbury) (OR MAKE YOUR OWN YOU LAZY PERSON)
Cooking spray
6  tablespoons  all-purpose flour (or whole wheat pastry flour)
1/4  cup  sliced almonds
2  tablespoons  brown sugar
2  tablespoons  chilled butter, cut into small pieces (4 tbsps does you better)
1/4  teaspoon  almond extract
1/8  teaspoon  salt
(adding some rolled oats…like 1/2 cup-ish…might be your bag. it was ours)

1. Preheat oven to 350°.

2. Place tapioca in a spice or coffee grinder; process until finely ground. Combine tapioca, raspberries, and next 5 ingredients (through 1/8 teaspoon salt) in a bowl; toss well. Let raspberry mixture stand 10 minutes; stir to combine.

3. Roll 1 (9-inch) dough portion into an 11-inch circle. Fit dough into a 9-inch pie plate coated with cooking spray, draping excess dough over edges. Spoon raspberry mixture and any remaining liquid into dough. Fold edges under; flute. Bake at 350° for 40 minutes.

4. While pie bakes, place flour and remaining ingredients in a food processor; pulse 10 times or until mixture resembles coarse crumbs.

5. Increase the oven temperature to 375°.

6. Sprinkle topping evenly over pie. Bake at 375° for 15 minutes or until topping is golden brown and filling is thick and bubbly. Cool completely on a wire rack.

ZwetschgenkuchENNUI

Ready?           I don’t think you should run out and make this recipe.

There. I said it. And see? I’m CHOOSY. Quite frankly, you’re better than this recipe. Let me break it down for you. I had such high HOPES, readers. Maybe that’s the issue. I went to this fruit market mecca on the way back from my pottery class one weekend, and they had these HUGE bags of italian prune plums. And I mean, they looked a little weird, but they were organic and local and whatever, and I had been thinking a lot about plum cake recently, and supposedly italian prune plums are like THE plum to use in a plum cake. So I already assumed everything was going to come together and this recipe would be another winner.

Which isn’t to say it’s not a perfectly fine recipe. I mean, it is. And it’s all traditional german, and the germans probably spent a good long while perfecting this recipe, and you know how fucking precise those germans can be. So I’m sure there are about a million children of germany who are ready to pounce at the very idea that this cake isn’t everything that was wonderful about their childhood plus memories of plump and caring german grandmother hands pushing bright plums into sweet and fluffy yeasted dough. I get it. I mean, some people don’t understand why I literally start salivating every time someone utters the word “dumpling.” We all have our comfort foods, and I really wanted to add this. I liked the idea of a yeasted cake, and I love me some baked plums.

AND I found this double plum, or two butts touching. It’s kind of a special find. It made me giggle. So where did it go wrong?? High hopes, time-tested recipe, plum pornography (please god show me the search results that that phrase yields), sweet yeasted dough. It doesn’t make sense! Was it something I did? Something I said? I find myself going over and over all the steps I took, trying to catch myself in a mistake. Did I come on too hard? Did I act too needy? Should I have introduced this cake as my boyfriend before we talked about it? WHAT DID I DO???

I think it’s just that…me and this zwetschgenkuchen…we’re not made for each other. I find this cake laborious (pitting these plums was a drag, and yeasted doughs that need to rise twice take HOURS) and ultimately boring. There. The truth. It’s boring! Not in the awesomely good way. Not like fresh white bread is boring but I could eat a whole loaf. Not like life in a summer cabin is boring but you can just sit on the deck chair and look out across the scenery and never get tired of it. No. This cake is boring like algebra class is boring (small confession: i may or may not have thought algebra class was pretty interesting). Like watching paint dry boring.

Maybe it’s that the local organic Italian prune plums lacked any discernible flavor at all. When they cooked they just became sweet. No tarty plum tartness. Just masses of sweet tasting flesh. That alone couldn’t carry the very simple yeasted dough. The dough has sugar in it, but no spices, no real flavor aside from yeast (which is a marvelous flavor, really, but it just didn’t play out correctly here, imho).

Whatever it is, if you absolutely love love love zwetschgenkuchen, this recipe is probably pretty good. But if you have no idea what zwetschgenkuchen is and you don’t care about warm yeasted german feelings, then I wouldn’t bake this expecting it to become a regular part of your favorite baked good rotations. See? I’m not always glowing about the things I make. Legitimacy. I have it.

Zwetschgenkuchen (Prune plum cake)
from Marietta Herr via nola

4 cups flour
2 eggs
1 stick softened butter
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup warm milk (more or less)
1 1/2 teaspoons (or 1 packet) dry yeast (tested to make sure it’s viable)
(Optional: Add anytime the grated zest of 1 lemon or orange)
About 50 ripe prune plums, halved and pitted, at room temperature

Put flour in large bowl.
In a small bowl dissolve yeast in 1/4 cup lukewarm water. Mix yeast with 1/2 cup flour, 1/3 cup warm milk and 1 or 2 tablespoons sugar. Stir until smooth. Let that sit about 30 minutes, until mixture bubbles.
Pour mixture into large bowl with remaining flour, eggs, butter, rest of milk and sugar. Beat with wooden spoon until dough blisters and comes away from the side of bowl. Cover and let rise in warm place, 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until doubled in bulk.
Punch mixture down and let it rise a second time.
Combine plum halves with 2 to 3 tablespoons sugar 30 minutes before putting them on the dough.
Punch dough down again, and roll it out on a floured baking surface. Roll to about 1/4 inch thick. Place dough onto a buttered rimmed baking sheet. Cover dough with halved plums, skin-side down. Cover the dough with the plums.
Let dough sit a little while it starts to look puffy, about 15 minutes.
Bake at 350 about 40 minutes, until done.
While tart is baking, cook extra plums in a small saucepan with a little bit of sugar (about 1/3 cup of sugar to 15 plums) and a small piece of lemon peel. After plums are very soft, about 10 minutes, puree them in the blender. Return to saucepan and cook just briefly, until mixture is spreadable, not too soupy or stiff.
After tart is removed from oven, let it cool about 20 minutes before spreading puree over the surface of the cake.

Zwetschgenkuchen (Prune plum cake)

4 cups flour

2 eggs

1 stick softened butter

1/2 cup sugar

1 cup warm milk (more or less)

1 1/2 teaspoons (or 1 packet) dry yeast (tested to make sure it’s viable)

(Optional: Add anytime the grated zest of 1 lemon or orange)

About 50 ripe prune plums, halved and pitted, at room temperature

Put flour in large bowl.

In a small bowl dissolve yeast in 1/4 cup lukewarm water. Mix yeast with 1/2 cup flour, 1/3 cup warm milk and 1 or 2 tablespoons sugar. Stir until smooth. Let that sit about 30 minutes, until mixture bubbles.

Pour mixture into large bowl with remaining flour, eggs, butter, rest of milk and sugar. Beat with wooden spoon until dough blisters and comes away from the side of bowl. Cover and let rise in warm place, 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until doubled in bulk.

Punch mixture down and let it rise a second time.

Combine plum halves with 2 to 3 tablespoons sugar 30 minutes before putting them on the dough.

Punch dough down again, and roll it out on a floured baking surface. Roll to about 1/4 inch thick. Place dough onto a buttered rimmed baking sheet. Cover dough with halved plums, skin-side down. Cover the dough with the plums.

Let dough sit a little while it starts to look puffy, about 15 minutes.

Bake at 350 about 40 minutes, until done.

While tart is baking, cook extra plums in a small saucepan with a little bit of sugar (about 1/3 cup of sugar to 15 plums) and a small piece of lemon peel. After plums are very soft, about 10 minutes, puree them in the blender. Return to saucepan and cook just briefly, until mixture is spreadable, not too soupy or stiff.

After tart is removed from oven, let it cool about 20 minutes before spreading puree over the surface of the cake.