Frankenstein Cookies

Internet, do you know what I like about these cookies? Do you know what I like about baked goods in general? They’re better than they look on paper. You read all the ingredients and yes, it’s a nice list of things, but it doesn’t prepare you for what all those things add up to, which is warm and chewy and doesn’t have emotional issues.

So many things are better on paper than they are in real life. May I paraphrase a friend here? Sure, he’s tall and dark and handsome and he probably loves his mother. He went to a good school and he makes a lot of money and he likes to cook and maybe he volunteers for a nonprofit on the weekends. He owns some decent camping equipment and he drives a sporty car (but not too sporty) and he has a favorite sandwich. There are a few chick singers on his iTunes and his favorite Beatle is George and when he lets his facial hair come in he looks ruggedly handsome. Guess how many of these ingredients ensures he is not a total douchenozzle?

Zero. Which is why it’s so nice that baked goods live up to the hype. Chocolate? Fantastic. Peanut Butter? Splendid. Sugar? Sweet. Walnuts? Great. Butter? Wonderful. And guess what? When you put them all together, they’re EVEN BETTER. The equation great+great+great+great+great = even greater makes sense to me. The day that someone can explain great+great+great+great+great = emotional child, I will stop wondering about the special math that goes on when creating an adult male.

This cookie combines all the good parts of several different cookies to create a wonderful monster of a cookie. Part peanut butter, part oatmeal, part chocolate chip, all delicious. It’s the most delicious frankenstein cookie I’ve ever had.

And when it gets angry, it doesn’t punch walls. PRAISE BE!

Monster Cookies
from Baked: New Frontiers in Baking

Makes 36 cookies

1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking soda
Pinch of salt
5 3/4 cups rolled oats
3/4 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
1 1/2 cups firmly packed light brown sugar
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
5 large eggs
1/4 teaspoon light corn syrup
1/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 cups creamy peanut butter
1 cup (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips
1 cup (6 ounces) M&Ms  (i obviously left these out but you probably shouldn’t)

1. In a large bowl, whisk the flour, baking soda, and salt together. Add the oats and stir until the ingredients are evenly combined.
2. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter until smooth and pale in color. Add the sugars and mix on low speed until just incorporated. Do not overmix.
3. Scrape down the bowl and add the eggs, one at a time, beating until smooth (about 20 seconds) and scraping down the bowl after each addition. Add the corn syrup and vanilla and beat until just incorporated.
4. Scrape down the bowl and add the peanut butter. Mix on low speed until just combined. Add the oat mixture in three additions, mixing on low speed until just incorporated.
5. Use a spatula or wooden spoon to fold in the chocolate chips and M&Ms. Cover the bowl tightly and refrigerate for 5 hours.
6. Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
7. Use an ice cream scoop with a release mechanism to scoop out the dough in 2- tablespoon-size balls onto the prepared baking sheets, 2 inches apart. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through the baking time, until the cookies just begin to brown. Let cool on the pans for 8 to 10 minutes before transferring the cookies to a wire rack to cool completely.
8. Cookies can be stored in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

Not-so-new year, still pretty old cake

Hey-o, watch yourself…cop out #2, coming your way, and fast. Don’t yell at me. Things have been maelstrom-y. I’ve been out and about, upside down, inside out, step by step, day by day, piece by piece, pound by pound (and oh so many pounds), etc. Do you ever have one of those….months? years? lifetimes?

And guess what, I’m out of town this weekend, and I’m certainly not baking in my hotel kitch. So honestly I think more excuses are coming your way. But it’s 2010 and you should stop sipping haterade if you haven’t already. Haven’t you heard? 2010 is the year of loving thy baking blogger, because she loves you back.

So listen, kids, here’s this cake I made a whole shitload of shitty months back.  Back when I was unemployed. Back when I was on the right side of a quarter of a century old. Back when I was an east-coaster. Back when I believed in love. Back when I had a Blockbuster membership. Back when George W Bush was still president. Back when I said I’d never run a half marathon. Back when I’d never had a latte. Back when I had a lot more money saved up. Back when I never wore makeup for any reason at all.

And then I made this cake and then a whole bunch of months passed and now I’m here.

BUT THIS CAKE. If you ever need to attend a classy party and wow your classy friends, bring this fucking cake. Look at it. All white and austere. This cake is like the Cate Blanchett of cakes. Right? (p.s. I frosted it with a butter knife so don’t get all Judgy McWhatAShittyJobFrostington on me)

In the winter, when there aren’t fresh raspberries, you can top it with candied lemons, or pomegranate seeds, or…defrosted frozen berries! You can do whatever you like. As long as you cut me some baking slack. I’m just one woman. I mean occasionally I feel like 2 or 3 women, but that is a conversation for my therapist and I.

Perfect Party Cake
from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking From My Home to Yours

cake:
2 1/4 cups cake flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/4 cups whole milk or buttermilk
4 large egg whites
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 tsp grated lemon zest
1 stick (8 tbsp or 4 oz) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 tsp pure lemon extract (i just used some lemon juice, oops)

buttercream:
1 cup sugar
4 large egg whites
3 sticks (12 oz) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (from 2 large lemons)
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

finishing:
2/3 cup seedless raspberry preserves stirred vigorously or warmed gently until spreadable
1 1/2 cups sweetened shredded coconut or fresh raspberries

Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Butter two 9 x 2 inch round cake pans and line the bottom of each pan with a round of buttered parchment or wax paper. Put the pans on a baking sheet.

Cake: Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. Whisk together the milk and egg whites in a medium bowl. Put the sugar and lemon zest in a mixer bowl or another large bowl and rub them together with your fingers until the sugar is moist and fragrant. Add the butter and working with the paddle or whisk attachment, or with a hand mixer, beat at medium speed for a full 3 minutes, until the butter and sugar are very light. Beat in the extract, then add one third of the flour mixture, still beating on medium speed. Beat in half of the milk-egg mixture, then beat in half of the remaining dry ingredients until incorporated. Add the rest of the milk and eggs beating until the batter is homogeneous, then add the last of the dry ingredients. Finally, give the batter a good 2- minute beating to ensure that it is thoroughly mixed and well aerated. Divide the batter between the two pans and smooth the tops with a rubber spatula. Bake for 30-35 minutes, or until the cakes are well risen and springy to the touch – a thin knife inserted into the centers should come out clean. Transfer the cakes to cooling racks and cool for about 5 minutes, then run a knife around the sides of the cakes, unfold them and peel off the paper liners. Invert and cool to room temperature, right side up (the cooled cake layers can be wrapped airtight and stored at room temperature overnight or frozen for up to two months).

Buttercream: Put the sugar and egg whites in a mixer bowl or another large heatproof bowl, fit the bowl over a plan of simmering water and whisk constantly, keeping the mixture over the heat, until it feels hot to the touch, about 3 minutes. The sugar should be dissolved, and the mixture will look like shiny marshmallow cream. Remove the bowl from the heat. Working with the whisk attachment or with a hand mixer, beat the meringue on medium speed until it is cool, about 5 minutes. Switch to the paddle attachment if you have one, and add the butter a stick at a time, beating until smooth. Once all the butter is in, beat in the buttercream on medium-high speed until it is thick and very smooth, 6-10 minutes. During this time the buttercream may curdle or separate – just keep beating and it will come together again. On medium speed, gradually beat in the lemon juice, waiting until each addition is absorbed before adding more, and then the vanilla. You should have a shiny smooth, velvety, pristine white buttercream. Press a piece of plastic against the surface of the buttercream and set aside briefly.

Assemble: Using a sharp serrated knife and a gentle sawing motion, slice each layer horizontally in half. Put one layer cut side up on a cardboard cake round or a cake plate protected by strips of wax or parchment paper. Spread it with one third of the preserves. Cover the jam evenly with about one quarter of the buttercream. Top with another layer, spread with preserves and buttercream and then do the same with a third layer (you’ll have used all the jam and have buttercream leftover). Place the last layer cut side down on top of thecake and use the remaining buttercream to frost the sides and top. Press the coconut into the frosting, patting it gently all over the sides and top.

Storing: The cake is best the day it is made, but you can refrigerate it, well covered, for up to two days. Bring it to room temperature before serving. If you want to freeze the cake, slide it into the freezer to set, then wrap it really well – it will keep for up to 2 months in the freezer; defrost it, still wrapped overnight in the refrigerator.

Still searching

Sometimes I like to think of myself as on a quest, mostly because it’s fantastic imagery. I picture myself with a band of merry men (or women, as it were), riding horseback through the countryside. There’s a minstrel and shit. And we’re looking for the holy grail or the fountain of youth or the lost ruins of whatever, which in this case is the perfect chocolate chip cookie.

And through it all–heat, snow, rain, heartbreak, breakdowns, transcendence, monotony, fatigue, tragedy, injury, joyousness, ennui–we keep searching. We never give up. It’s a higher calling. We’re on a mission from god(s).

Maybe it’s also because I like the idea of my life having some sort of meaning. In this case, the role of “meaning” is to be played by “chocolate chip cookies.” But you get the idea. It’s comforting sometimes, to pretend that we were put on this earth to do something. And maybe that something is completely ridiculous, like finding the best recipe of all the chocolate chip recipes on the planet. Maybe you, reader, maybe you’re meant to discover a specific rock on a specific beach that looks like a walrus. Maybe you’re meant to meet a man in Nashville with acorn cufflinks who will tell you something that makes you understand everything. Maybe you’re meant to discover that a specific constellation looks like your grandfather’s nose and eyeglasses. Maybe you’re meant to find a note on the ground that causes you to uproot your life and become an apple farmer. Maybe you’re meant to sing at an open mic night and, through your voice and lyrics, cause someone else to decide to get the love of their life back. I don’t know, dudes. I don’t even pretend to know.

What I do know is that I’m not ready to give up the quest. And that goes double for chocolate chip cookies. Are these the perfect ones? I don’t know. They are really very incredible cookies. But are these the ONES? Is this IT? I guess I’ll have to make them all to find out. That, my friends. That is ok by me.

Chocolate Chip Cookies
adapted from Jaques Torres in the NYT

2 cups minus 2 tablespoons (8 1/2 oz) cake flour
1 2/3 cups (8 1/2 oz) bread flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons coarse salt
2 1/2 sticks (1 1/4 cups) unsalted butter (confession: i only used 2 sticks. and i think these cookies were exceedingly buttery with just 2 sticks. if you want to go 2 1/2, go wild. but i’m not sure it’s necessary)
1 1/4 cups (10 oz) light brown sugar
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (8 oz) granulated sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons natural vanilla extract
1 1/4 pounds bittersweet chocolate disks or fèves, at least 60 percent cacao content (i used milk chocolate chips–they were specifically requested by my coworker, whose birthday it was, for whom these cookies were made)
Sea salt

1. Sift flours, baking soda, baking powder and salt into a bowl. Set aside.

2. Using a mixer fitted with paddle attachment, cream butter and sugars together until very light, about 5 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Stir in the vanilla. Reduce speed to low, add dry ingredients and mix until just combined, 5 to 10 seconds. Drop chocolate pieces in and try to incorporate them without breaking them. Press plastic wrap against dough and refrigerate for 24 to 36 hours. [Dough may be used in batches, and can be refrigerated for up to 72 hours.]

3. When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a nonstick baking mat. Set aside.

4. Scoop 6 3 1/2-ounce mounds of dough (the size of generous golf balls) onto baking sheet, making sure to turn horizontally anychocolate pieces that are poking up; it will make for a more attractive cookie. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt and bake until golden brown but still soft, 18 to 20 minutes. Transfer sheet to a wire rack for 10 minutes, then slip cookies onto another rack to cool a bit more. Repeat with remaining dough, or reserve dough, refrigerated, for baking remaining batches the next day. Eat warm, with a big napkin.

New year, NEW cake

Look, I got off my lazy ass and I baked a cake. Well, actually, I really wanted to. I was in one of those MOODS. I just needed to bake a cake. I’d imagine this is how drug addicts feel on a consistent basis. Ok, not really. But you get what I’m saying here, right? This cake-baking, it’s an addiction from which there is no release. The only way out is to bake more cakes. A terrible affliction indeed.

Luckily after a quick poll of my friends, I was able to justify my urges (enablers, all of you!). Of course I didn’t need my friends to figure out a good reason, but I really like conducting polls. Is that strange? You really don’t have to answer, I already know that it is. Back to the point, which is this: my roommate came back yesterday after a long sojourn in India, so that provided the perfect excuse to bake a welcome back fom India cake.

I went with a maple cake, mostly because it meant very little by way of buying ingredients. Don’t get me wrong, I love the grocery store. The grocery store is my church. But lately I have been feeling very tired of crowds, and unfortunately I have this thing called a “job” which means I can’t just saunter over to Rainbow Foods at 11am and shop like a normal human being. The only time that is available to me is the same time that is available to every other phrenetic cart pusher in the universe. I like to take my time, people. I’m real fucking spiritual about it. It takes me a few minutes to pick out the cucumber that is speaking to me. I don’t need generic yoga woman #3 edging her cart up against me while I’m in my fucking mecca. Like seriously the universe will not explode if you wait 45 seconds while I ponder which flavors of yogurt I’m going to buy this time, lady. GOD.

So, the cake. It’s sweet. I mean, there’s like…a ton of maple syrup in it. So it’s homey sweet, not sweet sweet. I browned the butter that went into the cream cheese frosting, and I also threw a vanilla bean piece in there for good measure. Both of these actions were, if I may humbly say, strokes of pure genius. I mean, look at that frosting. Not only was it fantastically speckled, but it was totally flavorful.

I think this is the part where I have to excuse my discombobulated writing today. For one, I’m sick. It feels as though my head is floating several feet off my body, and it’s making it extremely difficult to write with any sort of panache. Apologies! But honestly? It’s not too different from how I normally write. In general I guess I’m just sort of a discombobulated person.

But I can frost a fucking cake. So I guess at the end of life when they hand out the awards (they’re going to do that, right?) I can look forward to Can Frost A Fucking Cake and Kind Of Always Writes Like She Has A Head Cold. So I’ve got that going for me. Which is nice.

Maple Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting
cake from here, frosting adapted from here

For the cake:

2 c cake flour
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup grade A maple syrup (I used grade B)
2/3 c milk room temp
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, room temp
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 egg, room temp

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees and grease/line two six inch cake pans.

Sift together the dry ingredients in a small bowl. Set aside.

Combine the maple syrup and milk in another small bowl and set aside.

Cream the butter and sugar. Beat in the egg. Add the wet and dry ingredients in two parts each, beginning with the dry. Alternate and scrape the bowl between each addition. Pour into prepared pans and bake 20-25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the cake comes out clean. (Mine took substantially longer than 25 minutes–closer to 30)

For the frosting:

1 stick unsalted butter
1/2 vanilla bean
1/2 cup maple syrup
8 oz cream cheese, room temp
3 cups powdered sugar, sifted

Place the butter in a small saucepan on medium heat. Slice open the vanilla bean & scrape out the seeds. Add the seeds and the empty pod to the melting butter and stir. Brown the butter over medium heat (should take about 5 minutes). Add the syrup and swirl. Once the foaming has subsided, stir briskly & pour into a bowl. Let cool to room temperature.

Place cream cheese in the bowl of an electric mixer & beat until fluffy. Add the powdered sugar (start off with less than the full amount–you can always add more) and mix on low until incorporated. Scrape down the bowl and then beat on high until light and fluffy. Add the maple-butter liquid and beat on high for a few minutes more. Now frost that fuckin cake!

New year, old cake

Is anyone else out there having a tremendously difficult time re-entering Real Life? I know I used to do things every day, in some specific order, with some sort of levelheadedness about myself…but right now I just cannot figure out what things, when, and why my brain feels like a thousand sparklers that have gotten way too damp to light.

For these reasons and others I am sorry to report that I haven’t done a lot of baking recently. I know, it’s a new year, and now’s the time to Go Out and Get It or whatever, but to be honest I am still recovering from my vacation. I know, the ol’ “vacation from my vacation” lament. Poor me. Too much fun. Not enough sleep.  But all I’m saying is, dudes, let me ease back in. There are times to jump in and splash around and there are times to be holding onto your towel and stepping down one step at a time until you regain feeling in your toes.

Side note: what would I do without poorly conceived metaphors? I think it’s like…why I live.

In conclusion, I’m posting an old old recipe. It’s from last November, when I first kinda decided to become serious about learning to bake.  It’s a pistachio petit-four cake that I made for my brother for his birthday. My brother is a mushroom-grower (and assistant bee-keeper) and all around outdoorsy dude. So, I spent like 5 hours making homemade marzipan and then shaping it into different species of mushroom, each of which I diligently looked up in his Field Guide to Mushrooms. I didn’t want to just make random mushrooms. They had to be REAL. It was important. Clearly.

Thoughts about the cake: it was too dry, I think. That’s all I really remember. It was a lot of work and I wished it was moister. I think I’d add more jam between the layers next time. But it was probably the coolest birthday cake I’ve ever made. Until……yours, right? When’s your birthday and what can I mold out of marzipan for you? Because god knows I’ll do it.

Pistachio Petit Four Cake
from Sky High: Irresistible Triple-Layer Cakes

For the cake
3/4 cup skinned pistachio nuts
1 2/3 cups sugar
2 cups cake flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 ounces unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
5 eggs, lightly beaten

For the marzipan
8 ounces almond paste
1 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup

For the dark ganache glaze
1 pound extra-bittersweet chocolate
1 1/4 cups heavy cream
3/4 cup apricot preserves

Marzipan roses for decoration (optional — see note)

Make the cake
1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Butter three 8-inch round cake pans. Line the bottom of each pan with a round of parchment or waxed paper and butter the paper.

2. Spread out the pistachios in a baking pan and toast in the oven for 7 to 10 minutes, or until lightly colored. Transfer to a dish and let cool completely. Finely chop the pistachios and set 1/4 cup aside for decoration.

3. Put the remaining 1/2 cup pistachios in a food processor. Add the sugar and pulse just enough to grind them finely.

4. Pour into a large mixing bowl and add the flour, baking powder, and salt. Blend with the mixer on low for 30 seconds. Add the butter, milk, and vanilla and, with the mixer on low, beat until completely incorporated.

5. Raise the speed to medium and beat until light and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the beaten eggs in 2 or 3 additions, scraping down the sides of the bowl well and mixing only long enough to blend after each addition. Divide the batter among the 3 prepared pans.

6. Bake for about 25 minutes, or until a cake tester or wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow the layers to cool in the pans for 10 minutes. Turn out onto wire racks, carefully peel off the paper liners, and let cool completely.

Make the marzipan
1. Crumble the almond paste into a large mixing bowl. Use an electric mixer on low speed to soften the almond paste. Add the confectioners’ sugar and corn syrup and beat until smooth. Wrap well in plastic so it doesn’t dry out, and allow to rest at room temperature for 1 to 2 hours before rolling out.

Make the dark ganache glaze
1. Chop the chocolate coarsely and put it in a heatproof bowl. Bring the cream to a bare simmer. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and let stand for 5 minutes. Whisk until smooth and use the glaze soon after making so that it doesn’t set.

Assemble the cake
1. Roll out a third of the marzipan on a work surface dusted with a little confectioners’ sugar to about 1/8-inch thickness.

2. Set one of the cake pans upside down on the marzipan and trim around it with a small knife to make an 8-inch round. Repeat two more times with the remaining marzipan. Save all your scraps to make roses for decoration, if you like.

3. Place one cake layer on a cake board, flat side up. Spread 1/4 cup of the preserves evenly over the top, leaving a 1/4-inch margin all around. Place one marzipan round on top of the preserves and spread 1/3 cup of the Dark Ganache Glaze over the marzipan so that it completely covers the surface. Repeat with the second cake layer, adding more preserves, another round of marzipan, and more ganache glaze. Top the cake with the third layer. Spread the last of the apricot preserves over the top of the cake and cover it with the last round of marzipan.

4. Place the cake on a wire cooling rack that is nesting in a baking pan. Pour the remaining ganache glaze over the cake, in several additions, spreading to coat the top and sides. Allow the ganache to set. Garnish the cake with the reserved chopped toastedpistachio nuts and a single marzipan rose or several smaller roses.

Note: To make marzipan roses
1. First, tint the marzipan, if desired, by kneading in a tiny amount of paste food coloring, dabbing just a small bit onto the marzipan with the tip of a toothpick. Flatten the tinted marzipan into a disk and roll out on a work surface dusted with confectioners’ sugar or between 2 sheets of waxed paper to a sheet 1/8 inch thick.

2. With a 1 1/2-inch round cookie cutter, cut out 8 or 9 circles. Cover all the marzipan you are not using immediately with plastic wrap so it doesn’t dry out.

3. Roll one piece of marzipan into a ball the size of a marble and pinch with your fingers to shape into a cone about 1 to 1 1/4 inches high, tapering to a fine point at the top.

4. Take another round of marzipan and wrap it like a petal around the cone, pinching it at the bottom to adhere and at the top to thin and ruffle slightly like a flower. Repeat with the remaining “petals,” overlapping slightly as you work your way around. If necessary, use a little water to help glue the marzipan in place.

I’ve done it.

Friends, family, internet strangers, I’ve done it. I’ve made the most incredible thing. My raison d’etre. My coup de grace. My other french saying that I actually don’t have any idea what it means.

It’s a banana cream pie. WAIT. STOP. Stop that face you’re making. Clear your mind of preconceived notions of banana cream pie. DO IT. Because once I thought similarly. Banana cream pie?? I pictured fake-banana-flavored pudding. Too-sweet whipped cream. Store-bought crust. Banish those thoughts. What this pie is, is too good for this world. It’s better than all of us, this pie.

It’s the best thing. Superlatively everything.

Let me explain. Caramel. Chocolate Ganache. Vanilla Pastry Cream. Flaky Pie Crust. Fresh bananas. Lightly Sweetened Whipped Cream Topped with Chocolate Shavings. That should clear things up.

If the way this pie turned out is a harbinger for 2010, then I am excited. So here’s to 2010. May it be the best year yet. Well, ok, listen, may it at least be better than 2009, which was a terribly banshee bitch of a year. So really, 2010, the expectations are low. Way low. But it would be nice to be pleasantly surprised here. Do. you. read. me?

Which brings us to resolutions. Since I read this article about how the human brain can’t handle too much forced willpower at once (surprise), I’m going to make this really easy on myself. I already exercise. In fact, I might exercise too much. So, in 2010, more travel. More vegetables. More adventure. More love. And more banjo. Let’s get started!

Banana Cream Pie with Chocolate and Caramel
from Tartine

(one) fully baked and cooled 10-inch flaky tart dough pie shell (use a 1/2 recipe of this one)
3 oz  bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
1 c heavy cream (very cold)
2 tbsp. sugar
1/3 c caramel (recipe below)
2 1/2 c pastry cream (recipe below)
2 ripe bananas, sliced into 1/4-inch-thick rounds
3 oz bittersweet chocolate bar for making curls

Have the pie shell ready for filling. Melt chocolate in a double boiler. Remove from heat.

Using a offset spatula, pastry brush, or the back of the spoon, spread the melted chocolate evenly over the bottom of the pie shell. Refrigerate for 10minutes to set the chocolate.

While the chocolate is setting, pour heavy cream into a mixing bowl and whip with a whisk or a mixer fitted with the whisk attachment until thickened. Add the sugar and continue to whip until it holds medium-firm peaks.

Remove the pie shell from the refrigerator and drizzle the caramel evenly over the chocolate. Transfer the pastry cream to the shell. Arrange the banana slices evenly over the pastry cream, and then lightly press them into the cream.

Using an offset or rubber spatula, spread the whipped cream on the top. Cover with chocolate curls and powdered sugar (optional).

Chill the pie until the pastry cream is set, at least 3 hours. Serve the pie cool. It will keep in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.

Caramel
YIELD: about 1 1/2cups  (you won’t use it all!)

2/3 c heavy cream
1/4 vanilla bean
1 1/4 c sugar
1/4 c water
1/4 tsp salt
2 tbsp light corn syrup
3/4 tsp lemon juice
4 tbsp unsalted butter

Pour the cream into a small, heavy saucepan. Split the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and use the tip of a sharp knife to scrape the seeds from the pod halves into the milk. Place over medium-high heart and bring to just under a boil, stirring occasionally. Reduce the heat to low to keep the cream warm.

In a medium, heavy saucepan, combine the sugar, water, salt, and corn syrup. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Then cook, without stirring, until the mixture is amber colored, 5 to 8 minutes. Remove from heat.

Carefully and slowly add the cream to the sugar syrup. The mixture will boil vigorously at first. Let the mixture simmer down, and then whisk until smooth. Add the lemon juice. Let cool for about 10 minutes.

Cut the butter into 1-inch chunks and add them to the caramel one at a time, whisking constantly after each addition. Then whisk the caramel periodically as it continues to cool.

Pastry Cream
YIELD: 2 1/2 cups (you WILL use it all!)

2 c whole milk
1/2 vanilla bean
1/4 tsp salt
4 tbsp cornstarch
1/2 c + 1 tbsp sugar
2 large eggs
4 tbsp unsalted butter

Have a bowl ready for cooling the pastry cream with a fine-mesh sieve resting on the rim.

Pour the milk into a heavy saucepan. Split the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and use the tip of a sharp knife to scrape the seeds from the pod halves into the milk. Add the salt, place over medium-high heat, and bring to just under a boil, stirring occasionally and making sure that the milk solids are not sticking to the bottom of the pan.

Meanwhile, in a mixing bowl, whisk together the cornstarch and sugar. Add the eggs and whisk until smooth.

When the milk is ready, slowly ladle about one-third of the hot milk into the egg mixture, whisking constantly. Pour the egg-milk mixture back into the hot milk and continue whisking over medium heat until about 2 minutes. I order for the cornstarch to cook ad thicken fully, the mixture must come just to the boiling point. You want to see a few slow bubbles. Remove from heat and immediately pour through the sieve into the bowl. Let cool for 10minutes, stirring occasionally to release the heat and prevent a skim from forming on top.

Cut the butter into 1-tablespoon pieces. When the pastry cream is ready (temp should be at 140F) whisk the butter into the pastry cream 1 tablespoon at a time, always whisking until smooth before adding the next tablespoon.

To cool the cream, cover the bowl with plastic wrap, pressing the wrap directly onto the top of the cream (the plastic wrap prevents a skin from forming on the surface). Chill.