. . . january 25, 2007
Zucchini Apricot Marmalade Muffins
I'm always somewhat surprised when a notable bakery leaks its recipes even if it is not an under-the-table operation. Such is the case when Elizabeth Prueitt and Chad Robertson, co-owners of Tartine bakery in San Francisco, published confidences about their baked goods last summer. Even with a book deal, it still seemed oddly generous. Individual technique or skill aside, there it is all laid out for you. And if you find yourself penurious (*see my boyfriend mr. cheap pants), with a good amount of disposable time or simply living cross-country from Tartine, these are all good reasons to do-it-yourself.
The back matter of the book offers a scene of "customers who wait patiently in a line out the door."
I will admit when I was in the Mission last August I walked by Tartine several times during the course of a week, each pass noting this "line" and opted for a better time to make entry. The line never did subside and my complaining nature prevailed over the wait.
For some measure of credibility, I will say that I did go to Tartine several year earlier
and I can see that it is a place where people could mark time expectantly without a sense of futility. Maybe I have a problem.
Pastry acquisitions or not, Tartine remains significant in memory as one of quality bake shop smack. I would wear it as a signature scent, layers of deep butter flavor in browned in crisp crusts.
The recipe in the Tartine cookbook is for a Zucchini and Orange Marmalade Tea Cake. I changed the proportions a bit to bring it into the muffin realm. Tea cakes tend to be denser, sweeter and lacking in the dome-top associated with muffins. As well, Tartine suggests apricot jam as a good substitution for the orange marmalade. I happened to have a jar of Trader Joe's Apricot Orange Fruit Spread on hand and tried that out. I recommend the product or combination of confitures for this recipe.
ingredients:
2 cups flour
1 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup oil
1/2 cup orange marmalade and apricot jam combined
2 cups grated zucchini (aprroximately two medium zucchinis)
continued . . .
Preheat oven 375°. Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. in medium bowl. In another bowl, whisk together eggs and sugar. Whisk in the following the oil and marmalade and/or apricot jam.
Peel a bit of the zucchini skin, leaving a bit in tact. Grate the zucchini using a medium to fine grater. Squeeze excess water from zucchini and whisk into egg-sugar mixture.
Stir flour mixture into zucchini mixture just until combined.
Scoop into paper-lined muffin pan or oiled ramekins. (I used small ramekins with fairly high sides to get a more elongated shape).
Bake 25 to 30 minutes.
Adapted from Tartine. « hide
. . . january 21, 2007
Gingerbread Scones
While dried powdered ginger is regarded as a poor substitute for the fresh rhizome, consider the inverse: fresh ginger is a formidable stand-in for dried. But either really is an irrelevant point when you envision a conglomeration of ginger.
The idea should be to see how much and how many different types of ginger you can pack into one baked good. I have been monkeying with this scone recipe off and on for the last two months, each time upping the ante. It uses twice the original amount of dried powdered ginger called for and is bolstered with both fresh grated and sugared dried ginger pieces.
ingredients:
1 1/2 cups flour
3 tablespoons brown sugar
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon powdered ginger
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons cold sweet butter
1 egg
2 tablespoons molasses
2 tablespoons whole milk, half & half or light cream
1 teaspoon grated fresh ginger
3 tablespoons sugared dried ginger pieces
continued . . .
Preheat oven 375°. In a medium-large bowl, mix together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and spices. Cut cold butter into flour mixture until it resembles coarse crumbs with a few good size butter pieces remaining.
Dice dried ginger into quarter inch pieces. Throw in with the butter-flour mixture and place bowl in freezer while you prepare the wet ingredients.
Mix together egg, milk and molasses. Reserve about two tablespoons. Grate fresh ginger into molasses mixture using a microplane or ginger grater.
Remove butter-flour mixture from freezer and make a small well in middle. Pour the ginger molasses into the well and mix until the dough comes together. You may use some of the reserved molasses mixture if the dough is still too dry.
Pat dough out into a six-inch circle on a floured surface. Cut into six wedges. Place scone dough onto a greased baking pan and brush tops with reserved molasses mixture. Garnish with a slice of dried ginger. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes.
Adapted from Simply Scones. « hide
. . . january 13, 2007
Mexican Chocolate Cupcakes (a.k.a. Rita)
"aŋ goi' shə"
(rough phonetic translation for the Romanish expression oh anguish)
A friend of partial Swiss extraction offered this word when asked to say something in the fourth tongue of Switzerland. He spoke it with the inflections of an elderly woman and told us it was all that he could remember of the language. This expression is probably not common to foreign language phrase books and yet it is really all one would need to know. It is the essential pack-and-go phrase for the existential condition.
Earlier in the day I had prepared cupcakes, not coincidently, as it was this friend's birthday. A cupcake does seem the perfect aliment to lift the edge off practically anything, even the anniversary of being willed into consciousness.
Cupcakes are experiencing a renaissance of sorts or at the least unprecedented popularity. There exist entire businesses that devote themselves to the personal-size comestibles. I particularly enjoy establishments that anthropomorphize their stable of tiny characters with names like "Bob" (see the Sugar Sweet Sunshine Bakery). I like to call my cupcake by the name Rita.
Cupcake companion piece.
ingredients:
for cupcakes
1 stick sweet butter
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 ounce bittersweet chocolate, in pieces (roughly 1/4 cup chocolate chips)
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons water
3/4 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/4 cup buttermilk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 rounded teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon ancho chile powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons flour (1 cup minus 2 tablespoons)
continued . . .
Preheat oven 350°. Melt butter in a medium saucepan over low heat until melted. Whisk in cocoa powder and bittersweet chocolate pieces until mixture is smooth. Add water and remove from heat.
Whisk in the following ingredients one at a time: sugar, egg, buttermilk, vanilla. Whisk in salt, baking soda, cinnamon and ancho chile powder. Sift flour into chocolate mixture and whisk until just combined.
Divide batter between 12 muffin cups lined with cupcake papers. There should be just enough batter to fill the cups two-thirds full.
Bake for 20-25 minutes or until tops are a bit springy.
kahlua soaking syrup
3 tablespoons sugar
1½ tablespoons water
1↔2 tablespoons kahlua
Boil sugar and water in your tiniest saucepan for several minutes. Add kahlua or other coffee liqueur. Bore little holes in the cupcakes with a toothpick, skewer, small fine-edged knife or the like. Brush generous amounts of syrup over cupcake tops.
ganache frosting
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon espresso powder
Scald heavy cream in a small saucepan over low heat. Remove from heat and add chocolate pieces. Stir occasionally until chocolate is melted and fully blended. (If the chocolate does not fully incorporate, return to low heat.) Stir in cinnamon and espresso powder.
Cool ganache in refrigerator for 20 minutes or until firm enough to frost cupcakes.
espresso whipped cream
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon espresso powder
1 scant tablespoon confectioner's sugar
Pour heavy cream into mixing bowl and place in freezer. Chill for about 5 minutes.
Add espresso powder and beat with mixer or whisk until fairly stiff peaks form. Stir in confectioner's sugar. Place whipped cream in pastry bag with large star tip and pipe kiss-shaped dollops onto tops of cupcakes.
Finish with a chocolate-covered espresso bean.
Cupcake batter adapted from Epicurious. « hide
. . . january 11, 2007
Potato Leek Soup
Today was an exceptional day of seasonably cold New England weather or what has become a semioccasional opportunity to practice self-insulation.
I hate to be cold and Vincent has failed to craft me the ass-warmer in woodshop that he had promised. That aside, I am not without new swaddling apparel, Christmas woolens. Susan gave me wool mittens which are both small and fortified with a terry-cloth lining, perfect for perennially iced midget hands.
Of course, it is also a perfect opportunity to immure oneself at home. My version of confinement is a lightweight rendition of the cover art on Celestial Seasoning's Sleepytime tea box. I imagine myself as a less hirsute, recessive cousin - somewhere between cozy and agoraphobic. If you do stay inside for a good part of the day, it is a good idea to have a project, say something like making soup.
ingredients:
half a stick of sweet butter
3 leeks (or four if they're a bit wan)
4 or 5 carrots
2 to 3 cloves of garlic
2 lbs. potatoes
3 cups vegetable or chicken stock
2 cups water
salt
pepper
continued . . .
Melt the butter in a large pot. Chop the leeks and add to pot. There is some dispute as to where to stop chopping the leek. Some only use the white base. Others go into the white-green meridian. I have been encouraged by the Doodle to use the leek in its entirety including the leaf greens which are
scallion-like. Despite such inspiritments, I usually put the bulk of the greens aside for another use (e.g. Home Fries).
Peel and slice the carrots and add to the pot. Stir occasionally over low heat for about 15 to 20 minutes. Towards the end of the sauteing period, add the garlic (either chopped or put through a garlic press).
Add the chicken stock and water. Peel and coarsely chop the potatoes. Add to the pot and cook until potatoes and carrots are tender. This tends to take a half hour.
Puree the soup using a hand immersion blender or standard blender. Word of caution: puree the soup in small batches if using a standard blender. The heat packs a wallop when revved up. Hold down the lid. (I have had to clean soup off of the walls twice in one evening.)
Add salt and pepper to taste.
The provenance of this recipe harks back to french country cooking via Elizabeth David as retold by Ben Rutter in the back of a dumpling shop. « hide
