Boy was I excited earlier this month to find that February’s Daring Bakers challenge would be tiramisu. It’s a dessert I’ve always enjoyed in restaurants — that is, when I’ve had room…and who ever has room? Mom and I agree that one day we should order dessert first, and then if we’re still hungry get something after. Who says dessert has to be last, anyway?

Tiramisu is the classic Italian dessert, made with ladyfingers soaked in sweetened espresso and layered with a mixture of marscarpone cheese and zabaglione, a Marsala wine-tinged egg custard. The challenge recipe adds vanilla pastry cream and whipped cream to the marscarpone/zabaglione mixture.

One aspect of the challenge was making your own marscarpone cheese. I was looking forward to this as my aunt gave me a yogurt cheese maker for Christmas. It’s a wavy fine-meshed strainer that sits in a plastic container, making cheesecloth-sitting-over-a-bowl a thing of the past. Making marscarpone would have devirginized my cheese maker, but sadly I couldn’t find the right kind of cream. Ultra-pasteurized cream was all that was available, and ultra-pasteurized isn’t quite active enough to properly turn into cheese. So, sorry, I wasn’t able to do that part of that challenge. ;(

This tiramisu recipe has several parts: the ladyfingers, the zabaglione, the pastry cream, the whipped cream, and the putting-it-all-together bits.

My gods, it’s worth it, though

You’ll see why in a bit.

Allow a few days’ lead time when making tiramisu. The ladyfinger biscuits can be made a week ahead and kept airtight or frozen. The zabaglione and pastry cream need at least 4 hours to chill, so simply make them the night before.

I diverged from the challenge recipe for whipped cream because earlier this week I made strawberry shortcake. I made enough whipped cream for both recipes, and I needed it to be stable enough to wait a few days while I made the tiramisu, so I used the stabilized whipped cream recipe from King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking.

Once all the components are ready and the marscarpone/zabaglione/pastry cream/whipped cream is mixed together, the production line begins!

That’s sweetened coffee spiked with a bit of rum in the middle. Just a bit. Had to save some for myself, you know.

After getting the ladyfingers liquored up and caffeinated a tad, they’re laid out in a layer.

And the creamy stuff is spread on, and the layering continues until it looks like you’d like to just fill a tub and swim in it. I thought briefly of making it look nice — assembling the tiramisu in a springform pan or parfait cups.

But I wanted it messy

I wanted it freeform and gloppy and a bit risque. I wanted it to be loose and unabashedly sexy. I would even call it insouciant, but I’m not sure what that word means, so I won’t.

Fits, though, doesn’t it? Insouciant. This is a dessert that drips grown-up hedonism. A bit of this tiramisu sings deep red wine. It sings rum, and coffee, and creamy textures wrapped around gently crumbling, moistened ladyfingers.

I love this tiramisu recipe. It’s involved, yet not particularly persnickety or time-consuming. It has quality notes like the lemon zest in the zabaglione and pastry cream: you don’t taste lemon at all in the final iteration, you simply sense a brightness shining up the dark flavors of the wine and coffee and the quiet flavor of the ladyfingers.

Tiramisu isn’t an everyday dessert. But for a dinner party? Absolutely. I can’t think of a better way to end a meal.

That is, if you still have room.

tiramisu

Recipe source: Carminantonio’s Tiramisu from The Washington Post, July 11 2007. This recipe makes 6 servings


For the zabaglione:

2 large egg yolks

3 tablespoons sugar/50gms

¼ cup/60ml Marsala wine (or port or coffee)

¼ teaspoon/ 1.25ml vanilla extract

½ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

For the vanilla pastry cream:


¼ cup/55gms sugar

1 tablespoon/8gms all purpose flour

½ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

½ teaspoon/ 2.5ml vanilla extract

1 large egg yolk

¾ cup/175ml whole milk

For the whipped cream:

1 tablespoon cold water
½ teaspoon unflavored gelatin
1 cup (8 ounces) heavy cream
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ cup (1 to 1½ ounces) confectioners’ sugar

To assemble the tiramisu:


2 cups/470ml brewed espresso or instant coffee, warmed

1 teaspoon/5ml rum (optional)
 (I didn’t use rum extract because it was imitation)
½ cup/110gms sugar

⅓ cup/75gms mascarpone cheese

36 savoiardi/ladyfinger biscuits — or 1 recipe’s worth from below (you may use fewer)

2 tablespoons/30gms unsweetened cocoa powder

Making each part

For the zabaglione:

Heat water in a double boiler. If you don’t have a double boiler, place a pot with about an inch of water in it on the stove. Place a heat-proof bowl in the pot making sure the bottom does not touch the water.

In a large mixing bowl (or stainless steel mixing bowl), mix together the egg yolks, sugar, the Marsala (or espresso/ coffee), vanilla extract and lemon zest. Whisk together until the yolks are fully blended and the mixture looks smooth.

Transfer the mixture to the top of a double boiler or place your bowl over the pan/ pot with simmering water. Cook the egg mixture over low heat, stirring constantly, for about 8 minutes or until it resembles thick custard. It may bubble a bit as it reaches that consistency.

Let cool to room temperature and transfer the zabaglione to a bowl. Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight, until thoroughly chilled.

For the pastry cream: 

Mix together the sugar, flour, lemon zest and vanilla extract in a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan. To this add the egg yolk and half the milk. Whisk until smooth.

Now place the saucepan over low heat and cook, stirring constantly to prevent the mixture from curdling.

Add the remaining milk a little at a time, still stirring constantly. After about 12 minutes the mixture will be thick, free of lumps and beginning to bubble. (If you have a few lumps, don’t worry. You can push the cream through a fine-mesh strainer.)

Transfer the pastry cream to a bowl and cool to room temperature. Cover with plastic film and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight, until thoroughly chilled.

For the whipped cream:

Place the water in a small heatproof bowl. Sprinkle gelatin over the water and let it sit for 5 minutes to dissolve. Met the gelatin in the microwave on low power for 10 seconds, just until melted. Set aside to cool to room temperature.

Whip cream in a large mixing bowl until it begins to thicken and the whisk begins to leave tracks as it moves through the cream. With the mixer at medium speed, pour in the gelatin. Once the gelatin is incorporated, stop the mixer and add the confectioners’ sugar. Resume beating the cream until it forms medium peaks. Set aside or chill until needed.

To assemble the tiramisu: 


Have ready a rectangular serving dish (about 8″ by 8″ should do) or one of your choice.

Mix together the warm espresso, rum extract and sugar in a shallow dish, whisking to mix well. Set aside to cool.

In a large bowl, beat the mascarpone cheese with a spoon to break down the lumps and make it smooth. This will make it easier to fold. Add the prepared and chilled zabaglione and pastry cream, blending until just combined. Gently fold in the whipped cream. Set this cream mixture aside.

Now to start assembling the tiramisu.
 Working quickly, dip 12 of the ladyfingers in the sweetened espresso, about 1 second per side. They should be moist but not soggy. Immediately transfer each ladyfinger to the platter, placing them side by side in a single row. You may break a lady finger into two, if necessary, to ensure the base of your dish is completely covered.

Spoon one-third of the cream mixture on top of the ladyfingers, then use a rubber spatula or spreading knife to cover the top evenly, all the way to the edges.

Repeat to create 2 more layers, using 12 ladyfingers and the cream mixture for each layer. Clean any spilled cream mixture; cover carefully with plastic wrap and refrigerate the tiramisu overnight.

To serve, carefully remove the plastic wrap and sprinkle the tiramisu with cocoa powder using a fine-mesh strainer or decorate as you please. Cut into individual portions and serve.

ladyfingers

Source: Recipe from Cordon Bleu At Home. This recipe makes approximately 24 big ladyfingers or 45 small (2 1/2″ to 3″ long).

3 eggs, separated
6 tablespoons /75gms granulated sugar
3/4 cup/95gms cake flour, sifted (or 3/4 cup all purpose flour + 2 tbsp corn starch)
6 tablespoons /50gms confectioner’s sugar

Preheat your oven to 350 F (175 C) degrees, then lightly brush 2 baking sheets with oil or softened butter and line with parchment paper.

Beat the egg whites using a hand held electric mixer until stiff peaks form. Gradually add granulate sugar and continue beating until the egg whites become stiff again, glossy and smooth.

In a small bowl, beat the egg yolks lightly with a fork and fold them into the meringue, using a wooden spoon. Sift the flour over this mixture and fold gently until just mixed. It is important to fold very gently and not overdo the folding. Otherwise the batter would deflate and lose volume resulting in ladyfingers which are flat and not spongy.

Fit a pastry bag with a plain tip (or just snip the end off; you could also use a Ziploc bag) and fill with the batter. Pipe the batter into 5″ long and 3/4″ wide strips leaving about 1″ space in between the strips.

Sprinkle half the confectioner’s sugar over the ladyfingers and wait for 5 minutes. The sugar will pearl or look wet and glisten. Now sprinkle the remaining sugar. This helps to give the ladyfingers their characteristic crispness.

Bake the ladyfingers for 10 minutes, then rotate the sheets and bake for another 5 minutes or so until the puff up, turn lightly golden brown and are still soft.

Allow them to cool slightly on the sheets for about 5 minutes and then remove the ladyfingers from the baking sheet with a metal spatula while still hot, and cool on a rack.

Store them in an airtight container till required. They should keep for 2 to 3 weeks.

We love seaweed, how about you?

People were confused when I told them my aunt Linda and I would be making sushi for January’s 24, 24, 24 event. “Isn’t that raw fish?” they asked, knowing I’m not a huge fan of animal foods. Technically, sushi is rice that’s been specially prepared with vinegar and a little sugar, and topped with or rolled with…something.

It could be a shaped piece of rice with a slice of lightly steamed bias-cut carrot on top, tied with a scallion. This is nigiri sushi.

It could be a fat roll of rice bound in nori (seaweed) and filled with imitation crab strips, tamago (japanese omelet), scallion, and cucumber. This is futo maki.

It could be an inside out roll, with the rice outside the seaweed, all enveloping imitation crab, avocado, and pickled beets. This is uramaki. But everyone calls it inside out roll.

It could even be dessert.

Other forms of sushi include battleship roll (gunkan), which we didn’t make, temaki, which we didn’t make, and hosomaki, or thin rolls, which we did make, but I didn’t get any closeups of. Thin rolls use half a sheet of nori and are filled with only one or two ingredients besides the sushi rice.

what’s in this post, and what isn’t

This post isn’t going to include detailed instructions for making sushi. One, I’m no expert. I just made it for the first time. Two, if I started giving instructions, I’d never stop, and this would run 2,000 words or more. What I will tell you is what’s involved, the accompaniments, how our experience went, and a few links where you can get more information if you’d like to give it a try yourself.

And a recipe for rice for dessert sushi at the end!

accompaniments and fillings we used

One thing that’s absolutely necessary is a bamboo rolling mat. We got ours for $1.99 at a Chinese grocery. Well, we also got two more in a sushi kit Linda found at Barnes and Noble. The kit contained the book Sushi with Style, which turned out to be a clearly-written, informative resource. There’s a bamboo sushi rolling mat at Amazon for $6 that includes a paddle if you have any trouble finding one.

Pickled ginger.

Pink slivers of tangy ginger, these are meant to cleans the palate between bites of sushi. Right. Philistine that I am, I slap a piece of pickled ginger right on top of every piece of sushi I eat. It’s that good.

For this experiment, I made some pickled ginger of my own. Let’s just say that the inner, woody parts of ginger are not something you want to chew on, unless you really enjoy chewing.

Wasabi.

Green, insanely hot horseradish. Sold as a paste or powder. The lady at the Chinese supermarket and the sushi book both recommend using the powder as it’s better tasting. I wouldn’t know. I won’t touch the stuff. We did make some and use it, though. It makes a good glue for pasting toppings to the rice in nigiri.

Toasted sesame seeds.

Nice for decorating the outsides of inside-out rolls. Like a dumbass, I bought the unroasted kind a while back so now I have to toast them myself. Hey, look at my shiny new pan.

Tamago.

A Japanese omelet made with, among other things, mirin, a sweet rice wine usually found near the vinegars in the store. Or the Asian section. I made one of these, too.

Vegetables.

We used cucumber, carrot, scallions, pickled beets, and avocado.

Fish, raw and cooked.

We used imitation crab and raw tuna steak. I got to keep the leftover tuna to cook up later, slapped it in a lime-ginger marinade, pan-seared it, and it was good.

Rice!

You need sushi rice, a medium-grain rice. We used brown rice because of the whole whole-grain dealy. After cooking the rice, you mix in a vinegar-sugar sauce that lightly flavors the rice and helps it stick together. I’m not going to get into all the detail, because there was all this anal-retentive dribbling of the sauce into the rice down the back of the rice paddle (yes, the paddle actually has a groove for this, it’s nuts), fanning of the rice to cool its delicate little toes, and speaking to the rice in hushed tones so as not to break its pretty little grains. However, the people at The Global Gourmet have a good how-to guide on preparing your sushi rice, and the technique for cooking brown sushi rice that I used — in a pressure cooker!

so, how did it go?

Linda arrived around noon bearing ingredients and her pressure cooker. I earned a well-deserved glower when I showed her the brand spanking new pressure cooker I had already borrowed from my friend Lori.

However, Linda’s old-school stovetop pressure cooker came in handy when the power went out just as I was about to get the rice going (it had been soaking, as instructed in the anal-retentive sushi rice instructions, for over an hour already). Twice. She took a batch of the rice to her house to cook on the gas stovetop.

Chubby gods smiled upon us and the power didn’t go out again, and we commenced work making the kitchen into a disaster zone.

As usual when we’re making something brand new to us, things were so hectic I didn’t get any nice step-by-step shots. However, I was able to sneak in a five-second breather to snap a pic of how rice looks spread on nori, ready for fillings. You’d just lay three or four ingredients lengthwise in the middle of the rice, next to one another, not on top, and use the mat to roll it all up.

Some fillings: steamed bias-cut carrot coins for nigiri, scallions, tamago.

dessert sushi?

The book offered a sushi rice recipe made with cream of coconut and rum instead of vinegar and sugar, and suggested trying dessert sushi. We didn’t have cream of coconut so I cracked open (get it? cracked? coconut?) a can of coconut milk and got some of the coconut cream that had solidified from that. We seasoned a batch of rice with it and shaped it into nigiri.

Instead of wasabi, which would be pretty damn gross with fruit, the “glue” we used was strawberry jam, boiled cider that I had in the fridge (don’t ask), or apple butter.

The fruit toppers were slices of kiwi and mango, and we topped those with flaked coconut, a slice of candied ginger, and/or coarse sparkling sugar.

sisterhood of the traveling sushi

Linda posited that we made a good $60 of sushi. This was kind of a lot for two people, so we took the show on the road, first to my sister’s.

After some trepidation, not only Jennifer, but her husband Dale, who isn’t the sushi type, tried several varieties. I was pretty shocked. The dessert sushi was a hit, as was the inside-out roll with crab, avocado, and pickled beet.

Maggie snubbed the sushi, instead making up a bowl of some soggy cereal and pretending to be shy for the camera.

Afterwards, we took some over to Mom and Dad’s, and Mom gamely tried a bit as well.

is this really something you want to do at home?

Absolutely! Don’t be frightened by our scary messy kitchen pic. That was from making like, a dozen? kinds of sushi, including both a sweet and savory rice. The actual technique isn’t that bad, nor is it very time-consuming. If you’re trying sushi for the first time, like I did, pick two or three varieties to try, and don’t stress too much over the rice. In fact, dessert nigiri might be just the ticket. You can make it up pretty quickly, it’s light on rolling technique, and looks absolutely stunning.

And on that note, I’m going to leave you with the recipe for dessert sushi rice.

rice for dessert sushi

Adapted from Sushi with Style by Ellen Brown.

2 cups hot cooked medium-grain rice
1/3 cup cream of coconut — the kind you mix sweet drinks with
2 tablespoons rum

Whisk together the cream of coconut and rum in a small bowl. Put hot rice in a medium bowl. Sprinkle cream of coconut and rum mixture over the rice, and gently mix in to avoid breaking the grains.

Once it’s mixed together, carefully turn over small sections of the rice to help it cool and allow steam to escape. The rice is ready to use once it’s cooled enough that it’s not giving off any steam.

Suggestions: shape rice into rectangular nigiri shapes, and top with sliced fresh fruit such as mango or kiwi. “Glue” fruit to the rice using jam or nut butter. Top with candied ginger, sweetened flaked coconut, or sparkling sugar (sugar will melt; do this immediately before serving).

okay, fine, “macarons”

Well, en français they’re called macarons. Silly Frenchies. Macarons were October’s Daring Bakers Challenge. I filled them with lime-colored peppermint buttercream, and decided they looked like little hamburgers, and since it’s that time of the year, they’re now officially Halloween Boo-Burgers. Yay!

The 2009 October Daring Bakers’ challenge was brought to us by Ami S. She chose macarons from Claudia Fleming’s The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern as the challenge recipe.

I must be a real hick, because I’ve participated in Daring Bakers challenges two months now, and I’d never heard of either month’s baked good. Vols-au-vent? Macarons? Double-you-tee-eff, mate?

Turns out macarons aren’t those coconut cookie things. They’re simple-looking cookies made of almond flour and powdered sugar folded into egg whites that have been beaten into a meringue and slightly sweetened with granulated sugar. As a result, they’re kind of nutty and kind of sweet, but not overly so. A perfect macaron will have a thin crunchy outside, chewy inside, and crunchy “feet” at the base.

It’s quite easy to become obsessed with achieving the perfect feet.

Word among the Daring Bakers was that this particular macaron recipe was a bit finicky. My first attempt, plain macarons, came out pretty well….

So I decided to try a cocoa-flavored version. Oops! That didn’t work out very well. They did get a thumbs-up from everyone who tried them. I told them they didn’t have to be nice. They said they actually really liked them. I was meh about the whole deal.

the traveling macarons

The macarons and I went with Linda this evening to see local bluegrass superstars The Doodads.

We met up with Debi and several of her family and friends.

See the macarons on the table? That’s my excuse for these two pics.

the nitty gritty

Back to basics. Each of these attempts I made using a scaled-down one egg white version of the recipe. I was just too scared to try more; I’d read too many disaster stories. Since I needed to beat only one egg white, my stand mixer was overkill, and its whisk attachment wouldn’t even be able to do the job properly as it doesn’t touch the bottom of the bowl. It was time to break out the trusty old hand mixer. I hadn’t used it in years. Good thing the pack rat in me made me keep it, eh?

Old egg whites are supposedly better. That egg white has been sitting on the counter for two days, covered in a paper towel secured with a rubber band. Then you have the powdered sugar and almond flour, sifted together. And the teensy bit of granulated sugar the one egg white recipe requires (a bit over a teaspoon).

That egg white sure got a lot bigger! Hey, is that meringue too wussy? I think I’m scared of overbeating.

Now this next pic is from the cocoa disaster, but I wanted to show you what folding in the dry ingredients looks like, and the gooey final product.

Shh, I know, I told you the cocoa ones came out badly. That’s still how the dough is supposed to look. Both my successful batches were just like that.

If you don’t have a squeezy pastry bag, just put a plastic bag in a glass and fold the edges over, and put your batter in that. Then snip off a corner of the baggie to squeeze through.

Just out of the oven.

macarons

Recipe adapted from Claudia Fleming’s The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern. Directions are as provided by Daring Bakers. Have 5-6 of these for a 100-calorie snack.

prep: 20 minutes
bake: 5 minutes, then 7-8 minutes, approximately 13 minutes total
servings: varies by size of macaron; 1-inch (tiny!) macarons will yield 2 dozen per egg white in the recipe
oven: 200 degrees, then 375 degrees

Full recipe:


Confectioners’ (Icing) sugar: 2 ¼ cups (225 g, 8 oz.)

Almond flour: 2 cups (190 g, 6.7 oz.)

Granulated sugar: 2 tablespoons (25 g , .88 oz.)

Egg whites: 5 (Have at room temperature)

1 Egg White version:

Confectioners’ (Icing) sugar: 7 tablespoons (1.6 oz.)

Almond flour: 1/4 cup + 2-1/2 tablespoons (1.3 oz.)

Granulated sugar: 1-1/4 teaspoons (0.2 oz.)

Egg whites: 1 (Have at room temperature)

2 Egg Whites version:


Confectioners’ (Icing) sugar: 1 cup (3.2 oz.)

Almond flour: 3/4 cup + 2-1/2 tablespoons (2.7 oz.)

Granulated sugar: 2-1/2 teaspoons (0.35 oz.)

Egg whites: 2 (Have at room temperature)

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 200°F (93°C). Combine the confectioners’ sugar and almond flour in a medium bowl. If grinding your own nuts, combine nuts and a cup of confectioners’ sugar in the bowl of a food processor and grind until nuts are very fine and powdery.


2. Beat the egg whites in the clean dry bowl of a stand mixer until they hold soft peaks. Slowly add the granulated sugar and beat until the mixture holds stiff peaks.


3. Sift a third of the almond flour mixture into the meringue and fold gently to combine. If you are planning on adding zest or other flavorings to the batter, now is the time. Sift in the remaining almond flour in two batches. Be gentle! Don’t overfold, but fully incorporate your ingredients.


4. Spoon the mixture into a pastry bag fitted with a plain half-inch tip (Ateco #806). You can also use a Ziploc bag with a corner cut off. It’s easiest to fill your bag if you stand it up in a tall glass and fold the top down before spooning in the batter.


5. Pipe one-inch-sized (2.5 cm) mounds of batter onto baking sheets lined with nonstick liners (or parchment paper).


6. Bake the macaroon for 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the oven and raise the temperature to 375°F (190°C). Once the oven is up to temperature, put the pans back in the oven and bake for an additional 7 to 8 minutes, or lightly colored.


7. Cool on a rack before filling.

Neat, this made Foodie Views of the day! They gave me a pretty button to go with it:

Routine is a good thing. I lost 60 pounds eating the same thing for breakfast every morning, and anecdotally people suggest that eating the same thing for breakfast and lunch, and mixing it up for supper is good too. Some crazy theory that not having to think about what you’re going to eat makes it easier to keep track.

But you’re still fat! you say, glancing at that picture over to your left.

So? A little is better than nothing at all. And I’ll do it again. So there. Everyone who’s done a marathon here raise your hand.

*raises*

I love that comeback. All the training and suffering was worth it. Just to be able to say that for the rest of my life. Any time, for any reason.

My routine breakfast used to be Shredded Wheat and Bran, soymilk, sliced banana, and orange juice. After a year or two of this I still wasn’t bored with it.

But then the damn blood center began dissing me when I went to donate.

Your iron’s too low to donate.

*month passes*

Your iron’s too low to donate.

*month passes*

Your iron’s too low to donate.

*tear out hair*

Apparently some people (Michigan Community Blood Center, I’m looking at you) seem to think a hemocrit of 37, 36, or 35 is too low to be allowed to give blood. Hmph.

I tried small measures: more beans, some more leafies. Didn’t help. So I turned to the most iron-fortified food on the planet, or at the very least, in my cupboard: Malt-O-Meal, fortified with 60% of the RDA for iron, guaranteed to give you Popeye arms.

And, I actually like it. I don’t know why everyone makes that sour face. Malt-O-Meal is awesome.

But it introduced a problem. A serving of Malt-O-Meal does not a breakfast make, at least not one that’s going to stick with you more than half an hour. I couldn’t have cereal with it, because I had this inkling that that would be stupid.

Where to get protein? Oh! An egg! I have all sorts of pretty-colored eggs, thanks to friends who raise chickens that lay Easter eggs. Not kidding. It’s some special variety.

So I got out my little sauté pan and made up a one-egg omelet. All by myself. And it was good. And it made it into the new breakfast routine. I seriously think the green onion makes it. I wouldn’t want it without. The green onion is cooked with the egg. Then I dice up one of the smaller Stupice tomatoes and add other ingredients if they sound good.

As for insides, try:

• tomato
• green pepper
• crumbled bacon
• cheese, even feta
• shredded zucchini

In five minutes, you too can have a little showpiece omelet.

easy one-egg omelet

1 teaspoon bacon grease or butter
2 tablespoons green onion tops, chopped
1 large egg
salt and pepper, to taste
1/4 cup (approximately) of filling: diced tomato, diced green pepper, shredded zucchini, crumbled bacon, and cheddar or feta cheese are good choices, but not the only possibilities — try your own!

Get a large heat-resistant spatula and a small (7-inch or so) nonstick sauté pan.

Heat the bacon grease or butter in the pan over medium heat. Add the green onion and cook, stirring a few times with the spatula.

While the green onion is heating, whisk the egg. When the green onion has wilted, pour the egg into the pan.

Now for the fun part! Grab the pan’s handle and tilt it to and fro to make the egg coat the entire bottom of the pan.

Take the spatula and run it around the edge where the egg meets the pan, lifting it up a bit, and tilt the pan so that the liquid egg on top runs underneath. You will do this in two or three spots around the pan, depending upon how anal you are. It won’t need more, because the egg will cook quickly.

Salt and pepper the top of the egg.

While the egg cooks, prepare your filling ingredient(s). If you don’t like your eggs well-done, do this first. Yes, I waited until now to tell you, because I am cruel and capricious.

Now it’s decision time. If you aren’t fussy about the doneness of your eggs — in other words, if the consistency of restaurant omelets is fine with you — spread your filling ingredients on half of the egg circle, flip the empty half over it with the spatula, and let it warm through, another 30 seconds or so.

But if you like eggs nice and dry, slide that spatula under the disc of egg, and flip that puppy over! It won’t be hard, and it doesn’t require fancy flippin’ skills that would be very hard to access with morning brain. Then, like above, spread your filling ingredients on half of the egg circle, flip the empty half over it with the spatual, and let it warm through, about 30 seconds.

Note that if you do the flip method, you could wait to chop up your filling ingredients until after the flip.

Slide your beautiful omelet onto a plate, and you’re good to go, in about or under 5 minutes flat.

Today is Mom’s birthday. Go Mom! I won’t tell you which birthday it is, since she’s a tad shy about that. I’m just gonna say she had me when she was very very young. Nearly criminally young. Not that she’s a criminal. I don’t think.

Got anything to confess, Mom?

Grandma used to make this, her favorite cake, for her on her birthday. Which was pretty nice of her considering she wasn’t her mom, but her mother-in-law.

Naturally I assumed it was some secret family recipe, scrawled in chickenscratch cursive on a spattered and yellowed recipe card. Lovingly tucked into a battered tin box. Like something in a soft-focus “Mom, what do you do on those not so fresh days?” commercial.

I asked Mom the other day where to find the recipe.

“It’s on the back of the Baker’s Sweet Chocolate box,” she said.

Oh. Okay, then.

the cake is a lie

It’s not handed down from German immigrants. It’s named after the guy who owned the Baker’s chocolate company. His last name was German. No, it wasn’t German. It was German. As in Bob German. Or Phil German.

I know. It’s confusing. Have some cake; you’ll feel better. And for gods’ sake, whatever you do, do not read the nutrition information at the bottom of the recipe. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

And the recipe was invented by a homemaker in 1957 and published in a Dallas newspaper. The rest, as they say, is history.

I’m going to keep calling it “German chocolate cake” though. It just makes life easier.

the cake is real. ta da.

It turned out really well. I used pecans Aunt Geri sent as packing material in the gift box a couple Christmases back. Pretty handy having relatives with pecan trees.

Mom and Sis said it was as good as Grandma made it. It’s a pretty sweet cake, not in the cool sense but in the omg diabetic coma sense. I made it as written, because for some reason my white whole wheat flour, which is my go-to flour for quick substitution, tastes stale. I think it came that way, because I got it into the freezer the moment I brought it home.

So what we have here is a very moist cake made with 4 ounces of sweet German chocolate. It’s a bit labor intensive what with the beating of the egg whites and stuff, but that’s what keeps it light as well. It’s not dense-feeling at all.

The frosting is sheer decadence. Four egg yolks, butter, sugar, evaporated milk, sweetened coconut, and chopped toasted pecans. I mean shit, this cake has everything.

Look. You don’t frost the sides. You’re not supposed to frost the sides on this cake. Trust me. You’ve had enough sugar already. I don’t need you bouncing off the walls even more.

german chocolate cake

Adapted from the Baker’s German’s Sweet Chocolate box. You always know you’re getting the real high-end recipes with me.

prep: I forgot. This cake takes a while.
servings: 16
oven: 350 degrees

the cake:

1 package (4 ounces) Baker’s German’s Sweet Chocolate
1/2 cup water
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
2 cups sugar
4 eggs, separated
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup buttermilk

Line the bottoms of 3 9-inch round pans with parchment or waxed paper. Grease the sides.

In a microwave-safe bowl, nuke the chocolate and water until it melts, 1 to 2 minutes. Stir after 1 minute; it’ll probably be melted already.

In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, baking soda, and salt.

In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add egg yolks, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Pout in melted chocolate mixture and vanilla and mix well. Add half the flour mixture and mix well, then half the buttermilk, blending that in as well. Repeat with the rest of the flour and buttermilk.

Beat egg whites until stiff peaks form. Fold into the batter. Pour into the three prepared pans.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool in pans on wire racks for 15 minutes, then remove layers from pans and let them cool completely on the wire racks. You’ll probably have to run a knife or spatual around the sides of the pans to get them to remove cleanly, but it works.

Spread the coconut-pecan frosting on each layer, for three total layers of frosting. Don’t frost the sides.

the coconut-pecan frosting:

4 egg yolks
1 can (12 ounces) evaporated milk
1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1-1/2 cups sugar
3/4 cup (1-1/2 sticks) butter or margarine
7 ounces flaked sweetened coconut (about 2-2/3 cups)
1-1/2 cups pecans

Spread the pecans in a large skillet. Toast over medium-low heat about five minutes, shaking often. They’re done when they’re warm and you begin to smell pecans. Remove immediately from heat. Let cool, and chop into small pieces.

Beat the egg yolks, milk and vanilla in large saucepan with wire whisk until well blended.

Add sugar and butter; cook on medium heat for 12 minutes or until thickened, stirring constantly. The original directions say to look for a “golden brown” color but it won’t be golden brown; it’ll be more of a dark french vanilla color. Remove from heat.

Add coconut and chopped pecans; mix well. Cool to room temperature, or until it seems thick enough to spread. I spread it when it was still quite warm, and it worked out fine.

Oh man. You have to try this. Currant chiffon pie. If you don’t have currants, sub another juice like lemon, orange, or grape or raspberry or…anything. Just make this pie, once in your life. It’s creamy, fluffy, melty, and tart, the perfect foil for a flaky pastry crust or graham cracker crust.

Seriously. Dude. Eat this pie and die happy.

This pie will drive you to eat when you’re not hungry. One slice is good, two better, three divine. Consume only in public or with other safeguards nearby.

reverse engineering a mid-twentieth century recipe

Grandma (Dad’s mom) used to make this currant pie, in a convenience-food version using lemon Jell-O and Dream Whip. I wanted to recreate it using less-processed foods, and it was a bit of a challenge at first.

First, we always called it currant cream pie.

Reseaching cream pies on the internet taught me three things:

1. Always turn on SafeSearch when googling phrases like “cream pie.” I cannot emphasize this enough.

2. It wasn’t a cream pie. It was a chiffon pie.

3. No currant juice-specific pie recipes exist anywhere on the intertubes. They all used whole berries. Which didn’t make sense to me, as currants have nasty raspberry-like seeds. And you know what I think of those.

I turned to a cookbook I always seem to forget about: the Good Housekeeping Illustrated Cookbook. It’s not trendy, vegetarian, whole grain, or frou frou, so it languishes on the shelf. What it does have, however, is basic recipes for everything, in spades. And it had a few chiffon pie recipes. The ones closest to my needs were a lemon chiffon pie and an orange chiffon pie.

Currants are not as tart as lemons, nor as sweet as orange juice, so I had to play with the sugar amounts a bit. The recipes also differed in that one called for 4 eggs, one for 3. So I did a trial run, with 4 eggs and a cup of sugar. It filled a 10-inch pie plate to the brim, but was a bit sweet and a bit eggy.

So I tried again, with the result here, using 3 eggs and 3/4 cup sugar. Dad and I agreed you could cut another 1/8 to 1/4 cup of sugar for more tartness.

on the bright side, you’ll master beating egg whites and whipping cream

Chiffon pies rely on gelatin for stability…

…beaten egg whites for their airiness…

…and most add some whipped cream for, well, creaminess.

In this recipe you’ll do all those, plus fold in the egg whites and whipped cream. The links to tips for these techniques are in the recipe as well.

currant chiffon pie

Linda thinks this is still a little eggy. I think that’s due to the egg yolks in the gelatin mixture. I’ll try that without the yolks sometime, but I really like it like this too so I’m in no hurry.

prep: consider this a 3-part recipe
to table: 2-1/2 hours
servings: 8

All the ingredients:

3 egg yolks
1 cup currant juice
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 envelope unflavored gelatin
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup sugar
red food coloring
3 egg whites
1/8 to 1/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream, NOT ultra-pasteurized if possible
1 baked pastry shell or no-bake graham cracker crust shell, 9 or 10 inch

1. Make the currant-gelatin mixture

Whisk together the egg yolks, currant juice, and lemon juice in a small bowl. Mix the gelatin, salt, and sugar in a small saucepan. Stir currant mixture into the gelatin mixture. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture thickens and begins to boil. It’s ready when the color changes from dark pink to pepto pink, and the liquid begins to “swell up” in the pan. You’ll know it when you see it.

Transfer the currant-gelatin mixture to a bowl and add 1 drop of red food coloring, if desired. Chill currant-gelatin mixture in refrigerator, stirring occasionally, about 45 minutes — until it’s the consistency of corn syrup, or unbeaten egg whites.

2. Beat the egg whites

Use a stand mixer. It’s just easier. Pour 3 room-temperature egg whites into the bowl, and beat on high speed using the whisk attachment until soft peaks form. While running the mixer on high speed, slowly pour in 1/8 to 1/4 cup sugar, and continue beating until stiff peaks form.

Fold the egg whites into the currant-gelatin mixture. This means don’t stir. Just use a big spatula and encourage the whites and the currant mixture to meld together. Imagine you’re a chaperone at a junior high school dance, with girls lining one wall and boys the other, and it’s your job to gently get them to meet.

3. Make the whipped cream

If you have two mixer bowls, consider yourself lucky. If you don’t, wash out and dry your bowl and whisk attachment, and put them into the freezer for 5 minutes. You want everything to be icy cold when whipping cream. Remove the bowl and whisk from the freezer and connect them to the mixer again.

I only mention to avoid ultra pasteurized cream because it’s not as perfect for whipping, but it will work just fine. Add the 1/2 cup of cream to the bowl, and beat at high speed until soft peaks form. Notice the picture; I went too far to stiff peaks and the whipped cream wouldn’t incorporate smoothly into the pie mixture.

Fold your soft peak-stage whipped cream into the pie mixture until it’s all happy and one color.

Spoon currant pie mixture into the pie shell, and chill until set, about 45 minutes.

Variations: Try this with any juice: lemon, orange, grape, raspberry, you name it. Adjust sugar according to the sweetness of the juice. Currant juice is about midway between lemon and orange. Add some grated lemon zest to the currant-gelatin mixture.

Hey, look, another super simple recipe that is super yummy.

I know. Fried rice is intended as a leftover-user. Day-old rice? Make fried rice with it! Unfortunately for the rice, fried rice is so good on its own that it gets made a lot on purpose here and never makes it to day-old status.

In fact, I make it so much it seems I’ve begun doing that thing where you tweak. I’d heard of this, where people don’t follow recipes directly and instead, like, change them. How odd.

What finally made this tweak awesome was green onions and sesame oil. Oh, hay (sorry, got horses on the brain), there are green bunching onions in the garden! Look:

The green in this fried rice is the green onion, peas, and broccoli. I always use frozen for the peas and broccoli, though I’m sure fresh would be delicious. Fried rice just doesn’t seem the place to be putting garden fresh peas and broccoli, though, you know what I mean? Fresh broccoli is meant for raw crunching, or light steaming, or broccoli salad. Fresh peas are meant for chomping right out of the pod, or quick cooking with a teeny bit of butter melted in at the end, and maybe some chives. But frozen? Go to town in the grocery’s freezer section. Inexpensive and more nutritious than in the produce department and will keep forever. Well, forever-ish.

umami — what?

The green onions added that umami the fried rice was needing. And I figured out a while back that fried rice must have sesame oil in it. If you don’t drizzle some sesame oil into the mix, it’s going to taste bland, no matter what you do.

And apparently, technically green onions don’t have umami flavor. I don’t care. I’m proclaiming umami to be a generic term for “makes it taste awesomer.”

the fried rice trick

I don’t know the right way to make fried rice. I’m sure there’s some proper method that I’m too lazy to discover.

So here’s the trick I developed:

Start the eggs first. Just crack them into the pan and stir to scramble them. Now keep stirring. Quit complaining; you only need to do this for a minute or two. You’ll find that the eggs cook slowly, but develop this neat creamy texture. Keep stirring the eggs until almost cooked, like THIS close to done.

This is when you’ll dump in the peas, chopped green onion and broccoli. Add salt and pepper. The eggs, being almost done, will cling just a little bit to the vegetables. After stirring that for a little bit, you’ll add the rice, soy sauce, and then sesame oil, but that’s all described in the recipe below.

This method makes the egg, vegetables, and rice cling together a teensy bit, just enough so that it’s not all rolling about completely separately.

Hey, is fried rice even supposed to stick together? Am I doing it wrong?

green fried rice

prep: 10 minutes
to table: 20 minutes (when using cooked rice)
servings: 4
special equipment: rice cooker, if you want

2 cups brown rice, cooked, or 2/3 cup dry brown rice
1 teaspoon canola oil
3 eggs
2 green onions, tops only, chopped
1 cup frozen peas
2 cups broccoli, thawed if using from frozen, finely chopped
salt and pepper to taste
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon sesame oil
salt and pepper to taste
sesame seeds, for garnish

If cooking brown rice, prepare according to rice cooker directions, adding 1/2 teaspoon vegetable base to the water, if desired, to add a little flavor to the rice. Have the brown rice cooked and ready to go before beginning the rest of the recipe.

Heat canola oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Crack the eggs into the skillet, break the yolks, and stir to scramble together. Stir eggs constantly to cook them without letting them set completely.

When eggs are nearly fully cooked, dump in the green onions, peas, and chopped broccoli. Add salt and pepper to taste. Stir to coat the vegetables with the eggs, about 30 seconds. Add the cooked brown rice and soy sauce, and stir to mix everything together and finally finish cooking the eggs.

At the very end of cooking time, drizzle about 1 tablespoon of sesame oil and mix in. Remove immediately from heat.

Garnish with sesame seeds, if desired. Serve with soy sauce.