Chocolate Chia Pudding

Since December I've been turning to the same list of characters:  fish pie, shepherd's pie, soups, stews, casseroles and all other forms of warming, comfort foods.  To brighten things up, I rely heavily on citrus, namely navel orange segments and those luscious satsumas.  A vinegary kale salad from time to time also helps distract from the winter doldrums.

Chocolate is playing a starring role for me this winter.  Sometimes chocolate chips are snuck in greedy handfuls.  Then came a decadent treat in the form of Valentine's chocolates from Jaques Torres.  And finally, I tried my hand at a chia pudding, stirring in some rich bakers cocoa and topping it with raw cacao nibs.  Little treats come in many forms.

Chocolate Chia Pudding
Inspired by this recipe from Simple Bites

This is where healthy 'super food' meets indulgence.  I also made a breakfast version of this, substituting the chocolate for some cinnamon and nutmeg.  It's effortless to make- just combine the ingredients in a jar and shake it up, then chill for 4 hours, or overnight.  My version uses whole milk, because that's what we drink.  But this will work with any milk, including non-dairy nut milks or soy/rice milk.

⅓ cup chia seeds (I used black chia seeds)
1 ½ cups whole milk (or whatever type of milk you drink)
2 tablespoons maple syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons baking cocoa
Cacao nibs, optional

Combine all the ingredients in a pint jar.  Cover it with a lid and shake vigorously.  Chill for about an hour, then shake the jar again.  Let it chill for at least four hours or overnight.  Sprinkle with cacao nibs or shaved chocolate, or eat it as is.

Chocolate Mascarpone Icebox Cake

There is something about the way the mascarpone enriches the heavy cream, and softens the chocolate wafers without making them soggy... it's enough to make even this bitter winter fade away for just a while, leaving me fully content with this one perfect (yes, perfect) thing.

Chocolate Mascarpone Icebox Cake

Adapted from The Magnolia Bakery Cookbook and Ina Garten's icebox cake

I made two of these recently for a friend's 1940's themed 40th birthday.  I used two springform pans like Ina Garten does, to be sure they would be neatly and safely transported via taxi cab.  But I admit I like the looks of this free-form somewhat messy cake, stacked just slightly off kilter.  Any cream you happen to have left over should go on top of a rich cup of hot chocolate.

2 cups heavy cream

8 ounces mascarpone

1 teaspoon vanilla

½ cup sugar

1 teaspoon instant espresso powder

2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

1 ½ packages Nabisco chocolate wafer cookies

In a large bowl whip the cream, mascarpone, vanilla, sugar, espresso powder and unsweetened cocoa powder until soft peaks form, being careful not to over whip.  To assemble the cake, on a flat plate at lease 9 inches in diameter, arrange seven chocolate wafers, with one wafer in the center and six wafers surrounding it.  Scoop about ¾ cup of cream onto the wafers, and holding them securely in place, gently spread the cream on top of them.  Continue to layer the wafers and the cream, making sure to end with a whipped cream layer on top.  Refrigerate for at least 5 hours, or overnight before cutting and serving.  Shave some good dark chocolate over top for a garnish.  

A Simple No Bake Fruit Tart

We returned from a morning outing at the park and made this together, Roman and I, while baby Ethan crawled backwards and performed yoga poses.  He's figuring out motion.  I've been at a loss for words lately but I'm not ready to let And Baby Cakes Three die. So I'm offering this tart which is OK to eat for breakfast, but also wears the dessert hat nicely. It seems like summer on the East Coast will be another hot one, so please make and enjoy. There's no room for feelings of guilt.

Simple No Bake Fruit Tart
Inspired by a Nigella Lawson recipe
A truly versatile tart.  Instead of yogurt you could use lemon curd or chocolate pudding, and whatever fruit strikes your fancy.

10 graham crackers
6 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted
2 yogurts (I suggest whole milk yogurt. I love Liberté brand which is made with milk and cream. I used one vanilla and one coconut but you can use whatever you like.)
Mixed seasonal fruit

Pulse the crackers in a food processor. Add the melted butter and continue to pulse. Use your hands to press the crushed crackers into a 1" tart pan with removable bottom. Place the crust in the freezer for at least an hour but preferably two. Fill with yogurt and top with fruit. 

Brownies - lifting spirits

These days, my refrigerator is stocked with kale, mushrooms of all shapes and sizes, colorful peppers.  I  buy so much fruit we can barely eat it before it gets too ripe.  But today I want to share a brownie recipe because this time of year  there is already enough nutritional advice being dished out.  This is about lifting spirits, and these brownies have that capability.  

 

In August, a close relative cautioned me not to lose myself with the birth of my second child. I think a lot about what aspects I may have lost, whether those features of my life/self were important to me and how becoming responsible for two small people opened up a whole new world.  Some days I feel like super woman, capable of carrying a large baby through the NYC streets in 19 degree weather, toting all the groceries,  naming every car make and model in a four  block radius for an eager three year old.  Other days, I feel vulnerable, crouched deep in the trenches of motherhood with a sick child, overwhelmed with the sheer duty to these two young lives, but abounding with love. 

  

While I can strive to find balance and prioritize time for myself, the fact is, my work is cut out for me. My joy comes (in between tantrums) in the form of restorative hugs, toothy grins, impromptu dance parties with Roman. When I need a little guilty pleasure that I don't need to share, there is chocolate.  Not meditation, yoga or free time- but chocolate.

  

There is no 'one size fits all' recipe for brownies.  There are a million versions that people claim are the best, and maybe they're all partially right. I have strong opinions in this matter and my ultimate brownie is flourless, almost fudge-like, loaded with toasted walnuts, and made with the best chocolate I could find.

 

I wish you all the best in 2013.  I hope you'll treat yourself to something delicious on your way.

My Best Brownies
This brownie recipe from Ready for Dessert by David Lebovitz knocked my socks off, although I made a few changes to his already "perfect" brownies.  I substituted hazelnut flour for the all-purpose flour.  I also added espresso powder to make the chocolate stand out even more.  I have written the recipe below exactly as I made it.

6 tablespoons unsalted butter cut into pieces
8 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped (I used Callebaut)
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon espresso powder
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs, room temperature
1/4 cup hazelnut flour (you could also use almond flour or regular flour)
1 cup toasted walnuts

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Line the inside of a square cake pan (mine was 8 inch) with parchment.  Lightly grease the parchment with butter.
In a medium saucepan, melt the butter, then add the chocolate and stir over medium heat until the chocolate is melted and smooth.  Remove from the heat and stir in the sugar, espresso powder and vanilla until combined.  With your wooden spoon, beat in the eggs one at a time.  Add the hazelnut flour and stir energetically for one full minute.  Stir in the chopped, toasted nuts.  Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and bake until the center feels almost set.  This took about 40 minutes for me, but check starting at 30.  Let cool completely in the pan before lifting out the parchment to remove the brownies.  These will keep for four days at room temperature.  I chose to wrap mine individually and freeze them for a treat when I need it.

Lemon Cream Cheese Tart with a Gingersnap Crust

 

Taking care of a 3 year old and a 3 month old has sapped any energy I had for extraneous activities. My cooking has become predictable.  As my sister wisely said, right now my life is more about survival than perfection.  While I often feel like I'm being challenged to my core, I am lucky enough to be showered with smiles every morning from both boys.  That's enough to keep me going.

The exceedingly gray skies of late call for a little culinary levity. The pretty yellow color and zing of lemon and ginger are a pick-me-up and just what I needed.  

It's funny how a food treat can feel like a visit from an old friend.  A simple boost that helps me continue on my daily march.

I wish you all the coziest of times as 2012 comes to a close.  May you be showered with gifts of smiles, good food and warm, safe homes. 

Ruth's Lemon Cream Cheese Tart

Adapted from my Grandmother's recipe

Plan ahead by taking the eggs and cream cheese out of the fridge a few hours before you want to make this.

For the tart crust:

8 ounces ginger cookies (I used store bought from Whole Foods Market)

4 tablespoons unsalted butter

Finely process the cookies in a food processor.  Melt the butter, then pour it into the food processor and pulse to combine.  Place a  9 inch tart shell with removable bottom on a baking sheet.  Press the crushed cookies into the shell.  Bake at 325 degrees for 10 minutes and allow to cool while you proceed with the filling.

For the filling:

3 large eggs at room temperature

1/2 cup granulated sugar

Zest and juice of 1 organic lemon

8 oz package of cream cheese, softened to room temperature
fresh berries for garnish (optional)

Use a handheld electric beater to beat the eggs until light in a double boiler (bain marie); then beat in sugar gradually.  Stir in lemon zest and juice. Stir constantly over the heat with a wooden spoon for about 7-10 minutes until the eggs begin to thicken to a custardy consistency.  Add the cream cheese (must be room temperature) and use the electric beater again to blend thoroughly.  Several more minutes over the heat should do the trick.  Spoon this into your prepared tart shell.  Cool on the counter.  You could serve this warm, or if you want to prepare it ahead of time, simply chill it in the refrigerator until you are ready to serve.  

Yeasted Rugelach

Last week I looked for a challenge in the kitchen.  Sometimes it's the easiest place for me to conquer fears of the unknown. Unlike the rest of my life, especially as a mother- where every day can feel unchartered. Parenting, in my world, is an all consuming venture and sometimes my confidence wanes. I'm doing my best, but still feel like I'm winging it.  It's hard to relax and not think that I must certainly be messing up, falling short, or maybe even overdoing it.

   

I thumbed through Ruth's Box, looking for a project for distraction.  Something I could immerse myself in while Roman was preoccupied with his cars and trucks one morning.  I seized the moment purely for my own enjoyment. Ruth's box contained three rugelach recipes, the "little twist" cookies of Jewish Ashkenazic origin.  One called for a cream cheese dough, the other, sour cream.  The third intrigued me the most-- a neatly typed version of Libby Hillman's Yeasted Rugelach recipe from her 1963 cookbook Lessons in Gourmet Cooking.  By the way Ruth had loosely copied down her recipe, I could tell she was no new-comer to baking rugelach.  I pictured her rolling these effortlessly.  At first I was a little intimidated.  I wanted someone to show me, someone to work along side.  Kind of how I feel in parenting sometimes.  But I devised my own plan. 

 

I divided the dough into three balls, wrapping each in plastic wrap.  Ruth had noted that the dough would last up to three days, so I decided to bake one small batch per day and give myself time to improve.  (The dough also improved over time.) By the third day I was rolling the supple dough without it sticking to the counter or to my hands.  I could sense the right amount of filling, and exactly how long they should bake.  By then the cookies were exactly to my liking.  It felt good to have mastered them.  And who knows.  Maybe over time I will come to feel the same sense of mastery about parenting.

Yeasted Rugelach with Apricot, Almond and Chocolate Filling

Adapted from Libby Hillman's recipe

This recipe called for a sugar/cinnamon/nut filling, more like the authentic rugelach found in New York City.  I adapted the filling to my own cravings using apricot jam, slivered almonds and chocolate chunks, and making these rugelach are pretty irresistible.  

1/2 lb (226 grams) unsalted butter

1 package dry yeast

1/4 cup (59 ml) warm water

2 cups (198 grams) flour

2 tablespoons (23 grams) sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons cream

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 eggs

Filling: 

Apricot Jam

Slivered Almonds

Chocolate Chips or chunks

Melt the butter and set aside to cool.  Dissolve yeast in warm water.  Mix together the flour, sugar, salt. To this, add the dissolved yeast, cooled butter, salt, cream, vanilla extract and two eggs.  Mix until you can form a ball, which you can roll in a little extra flour and then refrigerate overnight (or at least 6 hours.)  The dough will last up to three days, and improves with time. 

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees (190 C). Divide the dough into three. Work with one portion at a time and return the rest, covered, to the refrigerator.  The dough cooperates best when chilled.  Using a floured rolling pin, roll one portion of dough into an 8 inch circle.  You can cut 8-10 wedges from this. Gently spread on the jam, then sprinkle on the almonds and chocolate and roll from the wide end of the base to the thin end.  Bake on a parchment lined baking sheet for 18-25 minutes.  Watch after about 18 minutes to check browning.  Baking time will vary based on thickness and size of cookies and oven strength.  Makes 5-6 dozen.

Oatmeal Cookies

 

Today I had some time to myself so I spent part of my afternoon in the kitchen "with" my Grandmother Ruth.  I was delighted to find she had a recipe for Oatmeal Cookies in her old green box that looked like it would be quite to my liking.

 

Having only known Ruth when I was a young child, I allow myself to imagine a lot of things.  It's easy to idealize someone after they die, and I try not to do that.  I have more of a running list of things I'd ask, especially now that I'm pregnant again.  I want to know about her pregnancies and labors, pivotal times in a woman's life.  In reality, the closest I can get is what kind of oatmeal cookies she liked, well, so be it.

 

While I baked, I thought about what I do know about Ruth.  She had waited until after World War II to start a family, a somewhat surprising choice for a woman of her era.  She was 34 when my mother was born, and 39 when she had my Uncle.  I'm not sure what kind of looks she might have gotten as an "older" pregnant mother in those days.  I suspect she was secure in herself and didn't care what people thought. 

As I age, I hope I'm getting closer to the type of grace that I believe my mother and grandmother had.  The kind of grace that brings acceptance and a certain capacity to deal with things head on and get through challenges with poise.  I realize now as an adult, that life brings plenty of these opportunities.  There will be challenges until the very end, and even that prospect we can face with a certain amount of grace.  

 

So this was my pensive kind of afternoon.  But there were also cookies.  I am extremely partial to cookies with walnuts, and I will always choose a cookie without raisins.  It must be an idiosyncrasy of mine, because I know some people adore raisins in their oatmeal cookies.  To me, these are simple and satisfying.  I'm hoping they stick around long enough to be packed up for a picnic on one of these beautiful spring evenings.  And if they remind me to be graceful, well, all the better. 

Oatmeal Cookies
Makes about 2 dozen

1 cup shortening (or margarine, butter or a combination half/half)
1 cup white sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 eggs
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 1/2 cups quick oats (I processed regular oats quickly in the food processor)
3/4 cup Grape nuts cereal or chopped walnuts
1 teaspoon vanilla

Cream together the shortening and sugars with an electric mixer and add one beaten egg.
Sift together the flour, baking soda and cinnamon and add to the shortening mixture.
Then add the oats, grape nuts or walnuts and vanilla.
Chill for one hour in the refrigerator.
Preheat oven to 350.
Roll walnut-sized pieces in your hands, then dip in granulated sugar and flatten as you place on a greased cookie sheet. (Or you can line with parchment.)
Bake for 12-15 minutes.

Chocolate Wholewheat Waffles with Hot Fudge Sauce

 

What do you give someone who sews, knits, crochets and quilts all of the gifts she gives for birthdays, baby showers, holidays big and small, year after year?  This person happens to be my sister Lisa, and in a few days she's celebrating a special birthday, so something store bought wasn't going to cut it.

One of the things I find most endearing (and surprising) about Lisa is her sweet tooth.  I've seen her reach into hidden stashes of chocolate while she thinks no one is looking.  I've known her to pull over to a roadside stand and enjoy a cone of soft-serve ice-cream (her all-time favorite).  When she told me how much she loves waffles and that she could eat them every day, I knew that this would be her kind of treat.

We certainly had our moments, both good and bad, as kids.  We were terrible to each other when confined to a car for more than a few hours.  Mom caught her trying to make me pay for her hand-me-down clothes one year.  But without fail, I got a card and a small gift from her if I stayed home sick from school.  I remember seeing her standing at my bedroom door and I always felt warmed by those glimmers of proof that I wasn't just a skinny little pest to her.  As you can see in the photos, no matter how much we fought, we were also friends, and that is what stuck into our adult years.

She deserves something decadent-- a rich chocolate waffle with some hot fudge sauce, not just for putting up with me, but for the years of rock-solid advice she's offered up for free, without asking anything in return-- unlike those old hand-me downs.

   

Chocolate Wholewheat Waffles
From Kitchen Butterfly via Food 52
Serves 4 - 6

These waffles make an excellent dessert.  I would never recommend you eat this for breakfast, unless it's your birthday.  And, since my big sister is celebrating hers, this is what I propose.  I'm providing her with a jar of the home made chocolate fudge and she can use her own good judgement.  I chose the recipe because they are made with wholewheat flour, which I think adds to their richness since the whole wheat tends to lend a nutty flavor.  My only changes to the recipe were the addition of sugar and substitution of ricotta.

1 1/2 cups (200 grams) wholewheat flour
1/2 cup (50 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 large eggs
1 3/4 cups (400 grams) milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1/4 cup (25 grams) yogurt (I used ricotta)

Sift the flour, cocoa powder, sugar and baking powder into a bowl.
Make a well in the center and add the eggs, milk, vanilla extract, oil and yogurt.  Mix with a balloon whisk until smooth.
Let the batter rest for 10 minutes or longer.  You can easily make the batter a day ahead and store in the refrigerator.
Spoon some batter into your hot waffle iron.  According to what type of iron you have, the amount of batter and cooking time will vary.

Hot Fudge Sauce
From Epicurious
Makes about 2 cups

Sauce can be stored for over a week in the fridge.  Reheat without burning before using.  Enjoy on waffles, ice-cream sundaes, or drizzled over fresh sliced fruit.

2/3 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup light corn syrup
1/3 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 ounces fine quality bittersweet (not unsweetened) chocolate, finely chopped
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Bring cream, corn syrup, cocoa, salt and half of chocolate to a boil in a 1 to 1 1/2-quart heavy saucepan over moderate heat, stirring until chocolate is melted.  Reduce heat and cook at a low boil, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes, then remove from heat.  Add butter, vanilla and remaining chocolate and stir until smooth.  Cool sauce to warm before serving.

Panna Cotta with Pomegranate Molasses

Tonight for our last meal of 2011, there will be fresh pasta with lobster tail, garlic, olive oil, a little white wine and fresh parsley.  For dessert we'll have a pillowy-light, barely sweet (but intensely creamy) panna cotta with a drizzle of tangy pomegranate molasses.

Then we will linger at the dinner table as the last hours of 2011 slip away.

Sipping a fruity vin santo, cracking nuts, letting a piece of special dark chocolate melt, listening to something a bit swanky in the background. This is how we plan on spending New Year's Eve.

As 2011 comes to a close, we'll toast loved ones, new friends, schemes, hopes and the possibilities that the future holds.  

Happy New Year

from my table to yours...see you in 2012

Panna Cotta 

From Olives and Oranges by Sara Jenkins & Mindy Fox

Makes 4 to 6 servings

2 cups cream

1 1/4 teaspoons unflavored gelatin

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 vanilla bean, split lengthwise

3 large egg whites

Pomegranate Molasses for drizzling (I found mine at Whole Foods Market.)

Combine 1/4 cup cream with gelatin in a medium bowl and let gelatin soften. 

Combine remaining 1 3/4 cups cream, sugar, and vanilla bean in a medium saucepan, bring to a low boil and boil for 3 minutes.  Remove from heat and fish out vanilla bean.  Scrape seeds from bean and add to cream; stir to combine.  Discard bean.

Add hot cream mixture to gelatin mixture and whisk until gelatin is totally dissolved.  Set bowl over an ice bath and stir until cooled to room temperature.  

Beat egg whites to stiff peaks.  Gently whisk half of whites into cream mixture, then fold in remaining whites.  Transfer mixture to individual ramekins or dessert cups.  Refrigerate until set, about 3 hours.  Top with a drizzle of pomegranate molasses and serve. 

Pignoli Cookies

A memorable Christmas, Roman's first, in Assisi, Italy

The closest I came to getting a tree this year was strolling through the Christmas tree market on Greenwich Street, deeply inhaling the wonderful pine scent.  Well, there was a batch of tree-shaped sugar cookies I made for our neighbors at the bar downstairs.  I saved half the batch for us.

We're going away for Christmas so it didn't feel right to leave a live tree alone for the holidays.  I figured I could pack some treats into the car easier than a whole tree.  So I made some pignoli cookies, a holiday cookie from Italy. Pine nuts. Yes, they come from pine trees and you actually get a hint of that wonderful pine scent when you bite into them.

I lived in Rome for two years and never ate pignoli cookies.  I was too busy devouring ricotta tarts from my favorite neighborhood pastry shop to make time for with these sweet almondy-gems.  They seem more popular in  Italian-American homes and pastry shops. That's probably where I first fell in love with them, years ago at Fortunato Brothers in Brooklyn.  But really, what cookie isn't better homemade?

The week before Christmas is notoriously hectic.  Last minute gifts to buy, cards to send, packing to do. I try to avoid the chaos and carve out some time to bake.  Here is a recipe that involves very little time and effort, and results in a cookie packed full of flavor, so it's a win-win.  That is, if you're not afraid to let things get a little sticky this close to Christmas.

Pignoli Cookies
From the Love'N Bake can
Makes two dozen

The addition of orange zest really brightens up these sweet, nutty cookies.  I love the way the almond and pine nut flavors mingle.  Great with a strong espresso or a cup of rooibos tea.

10 oz can of Almond Paste (ingredients: almonds, sugar, water, natural flavor)
1 1/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
zest of one orange
3 egg whites *see note below
1 cup pignoli nuts

Preheat the oven to 350 and line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.
Mix the almond paste, sugar, salt, orange zest with the egg whites using an electric mixer on low speed.  (*Note: it's best to use large eggs, not extra large, and to add the egg whites one at a time.  Do not let the mixture get too runny- it should be more like a paste.)  This will create a smooth paste.
Scoop out a heaping teaspoon full with your fingers, coat one side evenly with pignoli, then drop onto the baking sheet.  (This is the sticky part. Work quickly and try to minimize how many fingers you use to touch the batter.)
Bake at least 10-12 minutes (Mine took about 14 minutes, but depending on your oven, watch to make sure you don't over bake.)
Let the cookies cool completely on the baking sheet, then carefully peel them off the parchment paper.  Store in a covered container.

Ladies' Caprice

Caprice. A word seldom used in English, but common in French and Italian (capriccio), especially when it comes to children.  Leave it to the Romance languages to aptly capture what we call a "tantrum."  Faire des caprices.  I picture a Diva, storming off stage mid-aria in a wild swing of emotions when her accompanist misses a note. 

A caprice comes down to impulses, urges and unpredictability.  

Since Roman turned two, I've disregarded the idea of "terrible twos."  He is eagerly conversing in two languages, taking in the magic of New York City, forming friendships, singing and dancing.  None of that feels terrible in the least. 

Of course our days are not without conflict.  Just yesterday he lay screaming on the floor of a NY public library at the mere suggestion that he put his coat on before going out into the 40 degree chill.

So when I came across a recipe called Ladies' Caprice in Ruth's Box, I was fascinated.
Caprice: An extravagant and sudden whim.

What would Ruth-- a NY lady, wife and mother of two, do when faced with an extravagant and sudden whim of her own?  Shop for a bold new hat?  Smoke a cigarette and dream of some far off land?  Call a friend and scheme against her husband?  Perhaps she would just bake.

The recipe card was hard to decipher.  I gather from her incomplete notes that Ruth must have baked a few Ladies' Caprice in her time.  So I improvised.

Ladies' Caprice: meet Nonna Elena's marmalade tart, meet Brutti Ma Buoni nut/meringue cookies.

I hope I did justice to the original recipe.  I can assure you that this remarkable tart will calm whatever sudden, extravagant whims you might have.  It's just that good.  So please, pas de caprices.

Ladies' Caprice

For the dough:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
5 ounces cold sweet butter (1 stick plus about 1 tablespoon)
1/4 cup sugar
2 egg yolks
1 tablespoon cream

For the filling:
Black raspberry jam (8 or more ounces)
2 egg whites
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup finely chopped walnuts

In a food processor, combine the flour, salt and sweet butter (cut into chunks).  Process until the butter is broken up into small pieces.  Add the sugar, egg yolks (reserve the whites for the tart filling) and cream.  Continue to process until the mixture begins to come together.  Form it into a ball with your hands.
Grease a tart pan with a removable bottom.  Flatten the ball of dough and press it evenly into the tart pan, using the heel of your hands, work the dough slowly to extend it to the edges and up the sides of the tart pan. Prick all around with a fork and bake for 15 minutes in a preheated 350 degree oven.  Let cool completely.

Spread the black raspberry jam along the bottom of the cooled tart shell.

Make the filling:
Using an electric beater, beat the 2 egg whites until soft peaks form.  Gradually beat in the sugar and vanilla extract.  Use a silicone spatula to fold in one cup of finely chopped walnuts.
Spread this mixture on top of the raspberry jam in your tart shell.
Bake once again at 350 degrees, for about 40-45 minutes.
Let cool before serving.
This will keep well overnight if you want to make it one day before serving, and will keep for several days.

Ginger Molasses Cookies and kitchen meditations

I baked a cookie and it took me to the other side of the world to a dry lake bed in Sossusvlei, Namibia. That's some cookie.

Food often triggers memories of loved ones, childhood, or far off places through its scent and flavor. The act of cooking itself can be meditative.  Sometimes I focus solely on my hands. Other times, my mind wanders to its depths and I revisit a special time or place in my life.  With a little imagination, the foods I create can take me anywhere I want with a little game of visual association.

Seeing the cracked appearance of these ginger molasses cookies instantly made me recall the parched earth at the bottom of the world's biggest sand dune.  So I thought I'd tell you about it, and give you the recipe so you can experience it for yourself.

It was a cold morning in remote Southern Namibia when we set out with a guide to climb the dune known as Big Daddy. It was a quiet hike, our feet sliding into the iron rich sand as we advanced steadily to the top.  It felt like what I imagine it would be like to walk on Mars, with the alien landscape and the hue of the red sand.  We were so small in the face of the mammoth dunes that stretched and curved like dinosaur spines as far as the eye could see. Was this nature imitating art or the other way around, we asked ourselves.

Then, from the top, we ran down the side of the 380 meter (1,246 feet) dune, breathless and unafraid of falling.

So why not let a cookie be more than just a sweet indulgence? Put on your hiking boots and take a bite.

Ginger Molasses Cookies
Make sure your spices are very fresh and these fragrant cookies will truly liven your senses.

About 50 large cookies

4 1/2 cups unbleached flour
4 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons cinnamon
4 teaspoons ginger
1 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 pound brown sugar
1-1/2 cups shortening
2 eggs
1/2 cup molasses
granulated sugar

Sift the flour with the soda, spices and salt.

Cream sugar and shortening until light and fluffy.  Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition.

Beat in molasses, stir in sifted ingredients. (Note: for some reason I had to knead the dough together with my hands, but they still came out fine.)

Drop by rounded tablespoons into a bowl of sugar. Place on baking sheet,  (greased, or lined with parchment or a silpat) sugar side up, about 2 inches apart.

Bake in a pre-heated 350 degree oven 11 - 13 minutes.  Cool on racks.

Apple Yorkshire Pudding

I was born and raised in New England, but I have been away so long I had forgotten what a true East Coast change of seasons felt like. I've since spent several autumns in the Mediterranean and even one in Mesopotamia, during which time I missed the buzz I get with the transition from summer to Fall. Now that I'm back in Manhattan, I'm flooded with the excitement that comes when the air starts to chill. My favorite part about this is the chance to enjoy locally grown fruits and vegetables characteristic of Fall.  I'm picking out a different variety of squash every day: roasting, drizzling with maple syrup, devouring.

My Green Market is overflowing with bushels of apples just waiting to be snacked on, sliced, eaten with almond butter or cheddar cheese, sautéed with thick, center cut pork chops, or cut up and folded into a delicious dessert.

The recipe for this apple Yorkshire pudding comes from my Grandmother Ruth's recipe box. I halved the sugar that Ruth used, so this works great for breakfast or for dessert.  It's a luscious, buttery and only takes a few minutes to prepare.  You can slide it into the oven when you wake up in the morning or as you sit down for your main course at dinner.  By the time you're ready for dessert, it'll be sizzling and golden brown and your whole house will smell like pure bliss.  You know that smell, right?

Apple Yorkshire Pudding

4 - 6 servings

The amount of butter will feel excessive while you're making this, but just ignore that.  I reduced the amount of sugar already, but it's the butter that makes it really good.

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

1 cup flour

1 cup milk

2 eggs

1/4 teaspoon salt

3 apples, peeled and sliced

4 tablespoons butter

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Mix the flour, milk, eggs and salt in a bowl and whisk thoroughly.

Add the apples and stir to coat with the batter.

Butter a pie dish or a 9 x 9 baking pan using a bit of the 4 tablespoons butter, then slice the rest of the butter and arrange the slices around the bottom of your baking dish.

Mix the sugar and the cinnamon and sprinkle it evenly over the dessert.

Bake for 30 - 35 minutes and serve hot. 

Building "my community" and other small projects

I'm in the habit of making new friends, and tend to do so quickly each time we move. I may come across as overly forward, but I'm OK with that. People can take it or leave it, and they do. I may live in a big city but I happen to like simple human interaction, so I go about building community however I can. That's where these cookies come in.

We live above a bar. We're lucky that the owners and clientele are a nice bunch of people, very courteous (they'll take our packages for us since we don't have a doorman) and eager to greet us as we come and go from the building. So recently when I got to baking these cookies, I brought down a plate and was told they disappeared like "hotcakes." Exactly what I like to hear, since I can't be expected to finish off a big batch of rich, buttery cookies on my own. A plate of cookies now and then doesn't cost me much, but the pay back is large. Back in Rome I had built up a series of friends around the community, like my butchers. I fully intend on building a similar lot here in New York. People I can exchange a few words, laughs, or smiles with on a weekly basis. It's the familiar faces that make a big city seem like a small town.

This cookie recipe is part of a small project that has been following me around the globe for years. It has been carefully packed away on four moves, sailed back and forth across the Atlantic ocean several times, wrapped up and nestled into boxes along side all our worldly belongings. Over the years I've looked over the recipes one by one, thinking I should really do something with them. They are my grandmother's recipes; that would be Ruth.

I'm not sure what spoke to me about these nut thins or why I chose them as a starting point. Many of Ruth's recipes are not very detailed. She hadn't specified what kind of nuts to use so I decided on both walnuts and pecans. Some of her recipes lack thorough instructions, which tells me that she was a skilled cook and baker who had method down and could probably bake a batch of rugelach blindfolded. Like a good Jewish grandmother, I suppose.

I've always been fascinated with Ruth's box of recipes and have treated it like an heirloom. I'd like to think that two generations from now when the internet and computers as we know them become obsolete, I may have a granddaughter who loves to cook. Perhaps she'll peruse my blog, reading my stories, trying my recipes and maybe getting a glimpse of what life was like in "the old days."

I followed the recipe as written by Ruth, but couldn't resist adding 2 tablespoons of ground flax seeds, even though I'm pretty sure no one had ever heard of Omega 3 fatty acids in Ruth's day. Trust me, you would never know they are in there. Make these larger for chewier cookies, or smaller if you prefer, but I warn you that you may end up eating more that way.

Ricotta Mousse with Fragoline di Bosco

If there is one thing I love, it's indulging in a simple yet elegant dessert on a weeknight with an extra long spoon. This ricotta mousse took 10 minutes to prepare and will raise your spirits on a regular hum drum night, but is special enough to serve to guests.

Fragoline di bosco are "wild" strawberries that are cultivated in a town called Nemi about 30 minutes outside Rome in the Alban Hills. The strawberries are grown on the side of the lake which is actually a volcanic crater. We escaped the heat of Rome two summers ago to Nemi, as do many Romans when the heat gets unbearable. As we strolled through the streets of this tiny town, we stopped to enjoy some of these fresh berries.

Fragoline are popular this time of year in delicate fruit tarts and desserts. They are very fragile and must be consumed quickly. They cannot be washed or they practically dissolve. Like a lot of things that grow in the wild, they have also been used medicinally. These little beauties can alleviate digestive disturbances, and are also high in vitamin C, iodine, iron and calcium. All this in addition to their rustic charm.

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Mousse di Ricotta

This recipe was created by Cristiana from our favorite restaurant in Rome, Santa Lucia. She was kind enough to share the recipe with us. It makes enough for 4 small servings. The original recipe calls for Grand Marnier but I didn't want to buy a bottle so I used some lemon oil which adds just the right fresh, bright flavor I was looking for.

250 grams (1 cup) cows milk ricotta

2 soup spoons sugar

2 soup spoons Grand Marnier or substitute 1/4 teaspoon lemon or orange oil

3 soup spoons Whipped Cream

Beat the ricotta and the sugar for several minutes with an electric mixer until it becomes creamy. Add the Grand Marnier. Whip the cream (or use whipped cream from a can) and fold in with a spoon or spatula. Serve with wild strawberries, raspberries or blueberries.