The Best Vegetable - Brown Butter Rhubarb Bars

Things are getting exciting at the Farmer's Market. English peas, pea shoots, bright green asparagus and purple potatoes, Meyer lemons, and best of all, rhubarb.

Rhubarb is by far my favorite vegetable. It might not be a surprise to you, but it's a cousin to celery (only rhubarb is so much better than celery.)

I'm constantly searching for new recipes to use it in. Last year, I topped a piece of salmon with it. It was a nice and unexpected sweet tart contrast to the rich and buttery fish.

What follows is one of those recipes that I've been waiting a long time to make. We visited Big Sur in November of last year, and had a fantastic breakfast at the Big Sur Bakery. I poured through a copy of their cookbook over our breakfast pizza and freshly baked bread, and stopped once I turned the page to this recipe. I promptly bought the cookbook, and I've been waiting for rhubarb season in order to try these Rhubarb Brown Butter Bars. Sometimes, every single thing about a certain recipe speaks to you, and you know that there's no way the recipe can miss.

I'm happy to report that that is indeed the case with this recipe.

I adapted it slightly, substituting lemons for blood oranges. If you're not a fan of rhubarb, you could substitute raspberries, strawberries, even plums or cherries. It's totally adaptable. I made two batches of the rhubarb jam, and strained the syrup off of the first batch, to reserve for rhubarb cocktails (priorities.)

Brown Butter Rhubarb Bars
adapted from The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook

For the Jam

1 cup sugar
Juice and zest of 2 lemons
4 rhubarb stalks, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
1/2 vanilla bean

For the Crust

1 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 1/2 cups flour

For the Brown Butter Filling

3 eggs
1 1/4 cups sugar
zest of 2 lemons
3/4 cup plus 2 tbsp flour
1/2 vanilla bean
1/2 cup plus 2 tbsp butter

Begin by making the rhubarb jam. Combine the sugar, pulp of the vanilla bean and pod and lemon juice and zest in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Stir in the rhubarb, and cook over medium until the rhubarb begins to falls apart and the mixture is syrupy, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a bowl to cool.

Preheat the oven to 375 and start the crust.
Put a medium sized saucepan over medium-high heat and add the butter to brown it, whisking often, until the milk solids separate from the butter and it starts to smell rich and nutty. About 5 minutes. Pour into a bowl and stick in the freezer for half an hour, until solid.

Mix the powdered sugar and flour together in a medium bowl. Once the butter is solid, cut it into small cubes and mix it into the flour-sugar mixture using your hands. Combine until the mixture comes together into a crumbly dough. don't over mix. Press the dough into the bottom of a greased 13 x 9 pan. Chill in the refrigerator for 30 minutes, then bake at 375 for 15-20 minutes, until the crust is golden brown. Remove to cool, but leave the oven on at 375.

While the crust is cooling, make the filling. Whisk together the eggs, lemon zest, flour, and sugar and set aside. Spit and scrape the pulp and pod of the vanilla bean into a small saucepan. Add the butter and brown in the same manner as with the crust, then pour it into the egg mixture, stirring constantly. Remove the vanilla pod.

Pour half of the brown butter filling over the crust. Drop spoonfuls of jam over the filling and gently spread it evenly (reserving about 1/4 of the jam). Pour the remaining brown butter filling over the jam. Using a spoon, drop small dollops of the remaining jam randomly over the top of the bars, then bake for about 25-30 minutes, until the filling puffs into a golden-brown color.

Let the pan cool completely on a wire rack, then cut into squares to serve.

Rainy Days - Apple Crisp

The rain's been pouring down outside for the past two days. The wind's picked up outside, but inside I've got some homemade chicken soup on the stove, apple crisp just out of the oven, Ray LaMontagne on the radio, and, candles, in lieu of a fireplace. It's pretty cozy in here.

I love rainy days. They make a great excuse to stay in and cook. But they also lend a great moody quality to a road trip. Yesterday found us wine tasting in Dry Creek, just outside Healdsburg. We started the day at Preston Vineyards and ended at Unti. Stopping only for sandwiches, and for quick walk through the dripping vineyards. The valley was positively cloaked in fall, with golden leaves, heavy fog and pouring rain that never let up.

I wanted to stand out in between the vines forever, breathing in the smell of wet leaves, rain and woodsmoke. Simply fall. It's easy to love.

But back to the cozy indoors...where the soup is ready, Ray is singing, and the apple crisp is still warm, steam rising from the bubbling, caramelized juices. And I'm thinking, "This was a good idea."




Apple Crisp

For the apples:
2 Tbsp. lightly packed brown sugar
1 ½ Tbsp. all-purpose flour
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
¼ tsp ground ginger
2 tsp ground cardamom
5-6 large apples, roughly cut into same size pieces. I used half Rome apples and half Honeycrisp

For the topping:
¾ cup granulated sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
½ tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp ground cardamom
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp kosher salt
1 egg, beaten well
7 tbsp unsalted butter, melted

Preheat the oven to 375, with a rack in the middle of the oven.

In a bowl, combine the brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, ginger, and cardamom. Add the apples, and gently combine. Arrange the apples in an ungreased deep 9-inch pie plate, cake pan or a large glass dish.

In a second bowl, combine the dry ingredients for the topping the sugar through the salt. Whisk to blend well and then add the egg. Combine by using your hands, mixing thoroughly and squeezing and pinching the dough together until it creates a shaggy mess. Spread the mixture evenly over the apples.

Spoon the butter evenly over the topping, and bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until the top is browned and the apples are tender. Cool.

Week 6 - Brown Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

Lately, my perception of time feels exactly like the summer we've had here in the Bay Area this year: non-existent. I start to work around 8 every morning, and the next time I look at the clock, it's just past 1pm, I haven't eaten, and I feel pretty confused about where those 5 hours went. I get up, try and scrounge together some semblance of a lunch, and then go back to work. Next thing I know, it's 6pm. It's a bit of a vicious cycle at the moment.

They say it takes 3-5 months to finally feel settled in a new job. I'm on week 6. And I'm thinking I need to try and find a balance. Also: don't talk to me about fall. I'm sick about it. We had exactly 3 days this summer where the thermometer climbed above 80. Ridiculous.

When Bon Appetit magazine fell out of my mail box yesterday, I sort of sighed, and put it on top of the growing pile of things I'd like to read, but just haven't had the time to delve into. When a break rolls around, the last thing I want to do is stay inside. To that end, some friends and I found ourselves in the middle of San Francisco Bay this weekend, passengers on the boat The Pegasus. We sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge, accompanied by a pod of porpoises, around Angel Island and past Sausilito. We had front row seats to the Rolex Regatta race. It was a memorable experience. Especially due to our Captain: Captain Richard, who taught me this little ditty:

What a marvelous bird is the pelican
it's beak can hold more than it's bellican
in it's beak it can hold, enough food for a week
but I don't know how the hellican.

I have a thing for birds. So much so that it has earned me the nickname "Ladyhawk" amongst my friends. Captain Richard also has a thing for birds.

He and I got along famously.

Anyway. Check out this city, would you? From the boat, everywhere we looked was a beautiful view.




As far as weekend plans go, it was pretty good. And I managed to keep work at bay for an entire day.

I have cooked exactly 0 times this week. Thankfully Leah had sent this recipe for her Brown Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies. I had them. They were divine. Thanks to Leah.

Brown Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies
Adapted from RecipeGirl.com

2 1/4 cups All-Purpose flour
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp baking soda
2 sticks unsalted butter
1/4 cup white granulated sugar
1 cups dark brown sugar (packed)
1 Tbs half and half cream (or milk)
1 Tbs freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
2 cups chocolate chips

Sift together flour, salt and baking soda; set aside.

Melt butter in medium saucepan over low heat. Continue to cook on low heat, stirring often, until butter is browned. Turn off heat and stir in white and brown sugars.

Scrape into a medium mixing bowl and use electric mixer to cream the butter and sugars together. Add half & half, lemon juice, vanilla extract and eggs. Mix in until well combined. Add half of the flour mixture and incorporate into the batter with electric mixer. Add the rest and mix until thoroughly combined. Stir in the chocolate chips. The cookie dough will be very soft and buttery. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and chill until firm (an hour or two).

Preheat oven to 375°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper. Scoop up heaping Tablespoonfuls of cookie dough and use your hands to roll into balls. Place 12 balls on a sheet, keeping about an inch and a half between each ball.

Bake 10 to 12 minutes, depending on how large you’ve rolled your balls (mine took 11 minutes).

Yield: About 2 1/2 dozen

*Cool completely and store in an airtight container.

Absent - Peach Upside Down Cake from Leah

I've been shamefully absent in blogging lately, and can't provide much by way of an excuse. Other than the fact that I've been eating out quite a bit lately, and when I'm not doing that, I'm eating handfuls of cherry tomatoes like they're going out of style (or season, as the case may be).

Friday was an embarrassment of Bay Area riches. Literally. Breakfast AND dinner at Pizzaiolo, and what may be one of the best sandwiches I've ever had (Pulled Pork BBQ) from a new place in Berkeley, Ironwood BBQ. Go there. Trust.

It's always fun to bring a person to Pizzaiolo who's never been there before. I talk it up beforehand quite a bit, and people are always skeptical, thinking it won't be quite as good as I've promised, but it always, always is. It was a stellar meal on Friday that included padron peppers with burrata cheese, halibut carpacio with avocado, and a squid and cherry tomato pizza with a farm egg on top. Not once have I ever been anything less than extremely impressed with a dish there. I hadn't been in quite awhile, so I figure 2 meals there in one day make up for it.

Man, am I lucky to live here.

I did stop by the farmer's market this morning to stock up on more tomatoes and peaches. Not sure how much longer they'll be in season. While picking out some juicy and fat looking peaches, I remembered that Leah had sent me this recipe for Peach Upside Down Cake. It comes highly recommended. Just thought I'd pass it on...make it while you can!

Peach Upside-Down Cake
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen by Leah

Topping:
3-4 peaches - skinned and sliced thinly
1/4 stick unsalted butter - cut into small cubes
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar

Batter:
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 stick unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2/3 cup peach juice or apple juice

Special equipment: A well-seasoned 10-inch cast-iron skillet or a 9″ spring form cake pan. I used a fluted one because I had it.

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Make topping: Arrange peaches in the bottom of the pan in overlapping concentric circles. Sprinkle brown sugar and butter over the peaches.

Make batter: Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Beat butter in a large bowl with an electric mixer until light and fluffy, then gradually beat in granulated sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla. Add half of flour mixture and beat on low speed just until blended. Beat in juice, then add remaining flour mixture, beating just until blended. (Batter may appear slightly curdled.)

Spoon batter over peach topping and spread evenly. Bake cake in middle of oven until golden and a tester comes out clean, about 45 minutes. Let cake stand in skillet/pan for five minutes. Invert a plate over skillet/pan and invert cake onto plate (keeping plate and skillet/pan firmly pressed together). Replace any peach stuck to bottom of skillet.

Serve cake just warm or at room temperature.

Simple - White Peaches in Muscat Wne

I spent my freshman year of college at a small liberal arts school smack in the middle of Boston. My dorm was at the corner of Boylston and Tremont, right across from the Common and the Boston Gardens. The year before, I was attending my final year of high school at a tiny school for the arts in the wilds of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and to go from the nearest town being 15 miles away, to being in the heart of a bustling city like Boston was a bit of a shock to my system. My hike to class in Michigan was literally just that, a hike through the woods on campus, past a gorgeous lake with the sounds of students practicing their instruments all around. In Boston, it was a stroll across the Commons, pushing past droves of people to the sounds of construction, sirens, and basic city life.

There weren't many places to escape the constant drone of the city that year. I didn't have a car, but occasionally I would take the T across the river to Cambridge and find a quiet park somewhere. But more likely, I was taking full advantage of the student offer at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. Free admission. I was there nearly once a week, taking in the hush of that place. Peaceful, open and bright, with it's towering ceilings and stark white lines. It's where I discovered my favorite photographer, Edward Weston. In particular, it's where I discovered this photo that has haunted me ever since:




I stood in front of this photo for hours, collectively. Marveling at it. So many shapes in one body. I loved coming back to that exhibit. Taking some time out from the noise and activity to walk peacefully throughout the museum and take in all the beauty. Always starting and ending at this particular photograph.

So imagine how ecstatic I was to walk into the Oakland Museum for the first time, and stumble upon the same photograph in the back of the art section of the museum. I gasped out loud. It's famous, to be sure, but for me it's personal. Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised that it was there, but I was. I couldn't help but grin.That was a difficult year, and seeing the photograph brings me back to being 18 years old and on my own in the big city for the first time. It was so many things at once. Exciting and frighting, full of activity but lonely at the same time. In the end, I learned to embrace being on my own in the big city, and it's something I take pleasure in doing every once in awhile now.

I especially love spending time alone in museums. No one to rush me, no one to wait for. Just me, taking my time to look at whatever I want, for however long I want. It feels positively decadent.

The Oakland Museum is a beautiful place. I wandered around for a few hours, and spent a good deal of time in the current Pixar exhibit, which was spectacular, to say the least, but when I was ready to go, I headed back into the art exhibit, to look at the Weston picture one more time.

What's so beautiful about the piece, I think, is it's simplicity. The duality of curves and straight lines, the exposure of skin and the face concealed, the gradation of color in the simple black and white.

There's something so elegant about beauty extending from simplicity.

That might be the same reason why I like this dessert so much. Simple. Peaches and Muscat. Maybe a little sugar if I feel it needs it. It's less of a recipe than it is a good idea.




White Peaches in Muscat Wine
from the Zuni Cafe cookbook
serves 4-5

1/2 bottle sweet muscat wine (about 1 3/4 cups)
sugar, if needed
4 medium, ripe peaches
red berries for garnish

Bring a few quarts of boiling water to a boil, and in the meantime, prepare a large bowl of ice water for the peaches to sit in after they come out of the hot water. Once the water has come to a simmer, add the peaches in with a slotted spoon, one by one. After about 15 seconds, remove the peaches with the slotted spoon and slide them into the ice water.

Remove the skin from the peaches, it should come off easily at this point.

Add the wine to a large bowl, and add sugar to taste. I added about a teaspoon, since my wine was already quite sweet.

Using a small knife, cut the peaches into 1/2 inch wedges over the wine, and let the fruit drop into the liquid. Once all the peaches have been cut, cover the fruit and wine with plastic wrap or a piece of parchment paper, and let macerate in the refrigerator for up to an hour.

Remove the peaches from the refrigerator 30 minutes before serving and taste. Sprinkle more sugar over the peaches, if needed.

Spoon into wine glasses to serve. It looks beautiful garnished with red berries.

Peace & Quiet - Caramel Banana Cake

Photo by Brian

While at the river last weekend, I stepped out of the house alone around midnight and walked a few yards away. The moon was just about full, the forest and river were lit just enough to see by it's light. I stood still and listened...total silence and stillness. I couldn't even hear the river.

I can't remember the last time I heard silence like that. So incredibly peaceful.

It's easy to forget that that sense of quiet and stillness even exists when you live in the city, amid the constant hum of fans, air-conditioners, motors, refrigerators, traffic, etc. After having been on the go non-stop for the 3 days prior to our river trip, it was an unbelievable relief to be able to stand completely still, and not hear a single thing. Just peace and absolute quiet.

After a few minutes, I did hear a car drive by on a road not too far away, and then a small splash in the river, and what sounded like a owl in a nearby tree. I can't tell you how peaceful that moment was, especially after 96 hours of being on the go, non-stop.

It was a good weekend. So good that we decided to head up again this Saturday. I can't seem to get enough river time these days.

Have I mentioned that summer is my favorite season?

So, more about that Caramel Banana Cake. A cake I'd never made before, but one that Leah had requested. She was quite specific, Caramel. Banana. Cake. Anything for her 30th! As I said in my last post, this batter would be perfect for muffins. It's like the worlds greatest banana bread. I mean come on, it has caramel in it!

Caramel Banana Cake
2 9-inch layers

3/4 cup butter
1 cup white sugar
1 cup brown sugar
3 eggs
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups milk
1 1/2 cups mashed bananas
1 1/2 cups caramel sauce (recipe below)

Heat oven to 325. Grease two 9" cake pans.

Cream the butter and sugar until fluffy then add the eggs and beat until silky and lightened. Sift the flour with the baking soda and salt. Whisk the milk and mashed bananas in a separate measuring cup and add to the eggs and butter, alternating with the flour. Beat just until smooth.

Pour batter into the prepared pans. Pour half the caramel sauce into each pan, and swirl with a knife. The pans will be quite full. Put in the oven carefully and bake for about 60 minutes, or until the centers are set and a knife comes out clean.

Cool completely before serving. Optional, whip about 2 cups of heavy cream with 1 tbsp of sugar and 1 tsp vanilla. Whip until the cream until it forms stiff peaks. Coat the cake in a layer of whipped cream with a flat rubber spatula.

Caramel Sauce
makes about 3 cups

2 cups cream
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup water
Pinch salt
1 tbsp butter

Warm the cream in a small saucepan over low to medium heat. While it's warming, add the sugar and water to a large, heavy, high-sided pan over high heat. Stir until the sugar dissolves, then leave it alone to boil until it reaches a deep amber color. It's hot, but if you can, taste while you go, you don't want to caramel to burn.

Remove from heat and slowly whisk in the cream. The mixture will bubble and spit while adding the cream, so stand back and go slow! Add the pinch of salt and butter and whisk smooth. Simmer until slightly reduced.

In Anticipation - Strawberry Chiffon Cake

It's difficult, if not downright impossible, to speak of summer BBQ's without a certain tone of anticipation. In fact, I would venture to say there are only two tones of which they can be spoken about: anticipation, and nostalgia. There are BBQ's that have passed, and there are those that are yet to come.

I can wax poetic about the ones of yore, and present to you in dramatic fashion what was consumed, but in truth, I'm all about the anticipation of the next one. As long as that next one includes this cake:

I'm happy to say that this is a cake recipe that won't need much in terms of refining. Sometimes, a recipe turns out a home run on the first try. This is just such a recipe. Plunged into and devoured in mere seconds, as any good summer cake should be. And there is nothing about this cake that doesn't scream summer. Fresh berries, clouds upon clouds of whipped cream, and a light and moist crumb with just a hint of lemon. The cake is a similar texture to angel food...but better. It's a cake that comes together in a couple easy stages. I baked the actual cake mid-morning, let it cool on the windowsill (so cliche, I know) while I macerated the strawberries, and then finished it off at the BBQ by whipping the cream and assembling. Easy.

I'm going to go out on a limb and declare it the perfect summer BBQ cake. It's here. The search has ended, and I can anticipate many more of these to come.

Strawberry Chiffon Cake

adapted from Smitten Kitchen

For the Cake:

1 cup + 2 tbsp cake flour

3/4 cup + 1 tbsp superfine sugar

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 cup + 2 tbsp cold water

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1/2 tsp lemon zest

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

2 1/2 egg yolks, room temperature

4 egg whites, room temperature

1/4 tsp cream of tartar

For the Filling:

2 cups heavy cream

4 tbsp powdered sugar

2 tsp vanilla extract

For the strawberries:

1 cup strawberries, hulled and sliced
1/2 fresh lemon

1 tbsp sugar

Pre heat the oven to 325 and grease a 9 inch round cake pan. You can also line the bottom and sides with parchment paper that has been lightly sprayed with cooking spray.

Sift the flour, baking powder, 3/4 cup of the sugar and salt together in a large bowl.

In another bowl, beat the yolks, water, oil, lemon zest and vanilla together on high until smooth. Stir in the flour mixture until smooth.

In another large bowl, beat the egg whites with the cream of tartar until soft peaks form. Add the remaining tablespoon of superfine sugar, and beat until stiff peaks have formed.

Using a rubber spatula, gently combine the egg whites into the egg yolk batter. Gently fold together until the egg whites have disappeared, taking care not to stir too much. If it's over-stirred, the egg whites will fall. You just want to combine the two mixtures.

Scrape the batter into the cake pan and bake for 40-50 minutes. Check at 40 minutes for doneness. If a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean, and the middle has a soft spring to it, the cake is done.

Cool the cake in the pan on a rack for about an hour. When the cake has cooled completely, slice into 3 layers using a serrated knife. Separate the layers onto separate plates for easy assembly.

While the cake is cooling, macerate the sliced strawberries with the juice of 1/2 a lemon, and about a tablespoon of sugar. Stir together and let sit in the refrigerator until you're ready to assemble. The strawberries will release quite a bit of juice, which you'll want to spread on the cake layers.

Make the whipped cream filling by beating the egg whites, vanilla and sugar together on high until stiff peaks have formed.

Assemble the cake by starting with the bottom cake layer. Spread 1/3 of the strawberry mixture on the cake, top with some of the whipped cream. Add the next cake layer, and repeat the strawberries and cream on that layer. Finish with the last cake layer, adding berries on top of that. Finish by spreading the rest of the whipped cream over the cake until the cake is covered. Chill in the refrigerator for 1/2 hour to an hour until you're ready to serve.

Death by Caramel - Salted Caramel Tart

I nearly killed myself with caramel.

Perhaps that's a bit dramatic, but I need you to understand the severity of the situation. Caramel is not easy. It is treacherous. It took three attempts to get this tart right. THREE! By the end of it, I was so sick of looking at and smelling caramel, I was barely tempted to taste it. I was tired, no, exhausted, and so very. very. done with caramel. Was it worth it? Well. It's tough to say. I'm still having arm spasms from stirring.

Again with the dramatics.

My niece and I had discussed my Sister's love of caramel. I thought this tart would be just the thing for her birthday, served with a fluffy cloud of only slightly sweetened, fresh whipped cream.

So there I was at the stove, stirring away. About 10 minutes into the first batch, I noticed the caramel was turning an unexpected and disturbing shade of grey. I leaned in to examine it closer and removed the spoon: the spoon had half dissolved into the caramel mixture! I had thought it was silicon, but in actuality, it was plastic. Batch discarded.

I prepped the caramel once more. Wooden spoon in hand, stirring and stirring, watching carefully so as not to burn it. The recipe instructions said to bring the caramel to a distinctly dark color. I admit, I was skeptical: the picture looked so dark. I could have sworn the caramel shown was burnt, but, "have courage!" the recipe instructed. And so I did. I brought it to a dark color...and tasted it.

Burnt. Completely.

Batch discarded.

And so, onto the third batch, about an hour in at this point. Recipe for caramel committed to memory. Screw courage: at this point, I just wanted caramel that was neither burnt nor toxic.

And it worked. The third batch was perfect.

I'm told that the tart was good. Rich and buttery, as caramel should be. I had a bite. But the process had the unintended consequence of making me decidedly anti-caramel. But at the end of it, the tart had been completely devoured. And I guess, that's about as much of a recommendation as I can give for this recipe.

In the future, I will trust my own instincts when it comes to a recipe, and I will stick with silicon or wood when cooking candy.

So, if attempting this one, heed my warnings. Screw courage, trust your taste, and if all else fails, remember, caramel is tricky. It's not your fault.

Salted Caramel Tart
from the cookbook FAT by Jennifer McLagan

For the tart dough:

2 cups all-purpose flour
pinch of fine sea salt
2/3 cup cold unsalted butter, diced
1 large egg
1/3 cup superfine sugar

For the caramel:

1 1/4 cups superfine sugar
1/2 cup salted butter, diced
1 cup whipping cream
lightly whipped cream, for serving

Combine the flour and salt in a food processor and pulse to mix. Add the butter and pulse until the mixture resembles very coarse bread crumbs. Transfer the mixture to a large bowl.

In another bowl, whisk together the egg and sugar. Pour the egg mixture over the flour-butter mixture and mix with a fork. Squeeze a bit of the mixture between your fingers. If it holds together, transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface; if not, add a couple of teaspoons of ice water and test again. Knead gently and form into a ball, divide the pastry in half, and flatten into 2 disks. Wrap each disk in plastic and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before using.

Roll out the pastry on a floured surface and line a 9-inch or 9 1/2-inch (23-cm or 24-cm) tart pan. Prick the base of the tart with a fork and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 375. Place the tart shell on a baking sheet. Line the tart with parchment paper and fill it with dried beans. Bake until the pastry is just set, about 15 minutes. Remove the paper and beans and continue to cook until the pastry is a dark golden color, 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer the tart to a wire rack and leave to cool completely.

Combine the sugar and butter in a deep, heavy saucepan over medium heat. Stir to mix and cook, stirring occasionally, until the butter and sugar caramelize, 10 to 15 minutes. The sugar and butter will go through several stages. First it will look like a flour-butter roux, then it will appear curdled, and then the butter will leak out of the sugar mixture. Don’t worry: It will all come together in the end.

While the caramel is cooking, pour the cream into a saucepan and bring it to a boil over medium heat. Remove from the heat and set aside.

Keep stirring the butter-sugar mixture, watching carefully as it begins to caramelize and remembering that the heat in the pan will continue to cook the caramel once it is removed from the burner. You want a rich, dark caramel color, but you don’t want to burn the mixture, which will give it a bitter taste. When the caramel reaches the right color, remove the pan from the heat and slowly and carefully pour in the cream; the mixture will bubble and spit. When the caramel stops bubbling, return it to low heat and cook for 5 minutes, stirring to dissolve the caramel in the cream. Remove the pan from the heat and let the caramel cool for 10 minutes. Slowly pour the cooled caramel into the baked pastry shell and chill the tart for at least 2 hours.

This tart is easier to cut when it is chilled. Remove the tart from the pan and, using a wet knife, cut it into wedges. Serve the tart at room temperature, however, for maximum flavor, with a dollop of whipped cream.

Everyday - Everyday Cake with Strawberry Rhubarb Compote

The days slipped away from me, and I failed to notice that this blog just had its one-year anniversary on March 25th! That baffles me. I can't believe how quickly this year has flown by. So, thank you for reading, and even better if you tried something off of here that you liked!

I've been noticing lately how time seems to speed by faster than ever. As a kid, the minutes, hours, and days tended to drag on forever; the clock painfully ticking down the endless seconds till recess, till the weekend, till summer. Now, it seems I simply blink and an entire month has gone by. What I wouldn't give for a Saved by the Bell style "time out!"

I keep thinking about the play Our Town, by Thorton Wilder. For those of you who aren't familiar, the play consists of three acts: the first centers around the day-to-day lives of the community of Grover's Corners, highlighting two families who have a son George, and a daughter, Emily.

In the second act, George and Emily fall in love, and eventually get married. In the final act, Emily has died in childbirth, but revisits the town of Grover's Corners as a ghost. She is allowed to relive one day of her past. She chooses her 12th birthday, though other ghosts caution her not to go, as it will be too painful. When they cannot convince her, they advise her to, at the very least, chose an unimportant day to visit, "for the least important day will be important enough."

As Emily watches, unnoticed and unseen by her living family members, her Mother prepares breakfast, her Father reads the paper at the table, and the sights and sounds of what used to be everyday occurrences rush by her. Emily becomes more and more distraught and overwhelmed by all she took for granted. The pain quickly becomes too much and she says, "I can't go on. It goes so fast...I didn't realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed."

When Emily returns to her grave, she asks the narrator of the play if anyone ever realizes life while they live it--life as it is, "every, every minute."

"No," the Narrator says, "Saints and poets maybe--they do some."

I've read this play so many times over the years. I've seen several productions, but it wasn't until two years ago at the 2008 Oregon Shakespeare Festival production, that I finally started to understand. I found myself sitting in the outdoor theatre on a warm night, under the stars, with tears streaming down my face. I could hardly stand to see anymore. It was all so bittersweet, so uncontrollable, and much, much too fast.

It feels like the older you get, the more true it becomes. Time speeds up and slips away before you know it, and it's a struggle to simply live in the moment and appreciate everything for what it is.

Everyday Cake with Strawberry-Rhubarb Compote

adapted from the Busy Day Cake recipe by Edna Lewis
compote adapted from Smitten Kitchen

This cake's official title is the "Busy Day Cake." It's nothing fancy, it comes together in about half-an-hour: an everyday type of thing. I called it the "Everyday Cake" when I couldn't remember the official name, and for me, it has stuck. I couldn't be happier that rhubarb is back in season. This combination is very much like a Strawberry Rhubarb Shortcake. Is there anything better than the smell of baked rhubarb? If so, it's hard to imagine.

For the Compote
1 lb rhubarb, cut into 1 inch pieces
1 lb strawberries, hulled and rinsed
1 tsp lemon zest
1 tsp lemon juice
2/3 cups sugar




Cut up the rhubarb and strawberries. Reserve about half of the cut strawberries and set aside. Put the remaining strawberries and cut rhubarb into a medium-sized saucepan over medium-high heat with the lemon juice, zest and sugar.

Let the mixture bubble and simmer for about five minutes. The juices will extract quickly. Stir from time to time to help everything breakdown. The rhubarb will fall apart and the whole thing becomes a beautiful fuchsia color. As soon as the rhubarb has broken down and become soft, remove from the heat, add the reserved strawberries and set in a bowl to cool to room temperature. Once the mixture has cooled, place in the refrigerator. It will keep for a couple weeks, covered. Makes about 3-4 cups.




For the Cake

1/2 cup (1 stick) of butter, room temperature

1 1/3 cups sugar

3 eggs

2 tsp vanilla extract

2 cups flour

3 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1 good pinch nutmeg, freshly ground

1/2 cup whole milk, room temperature

Preheat the oven to 375. Beat the butter and sugar together until lightly fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, until well mixed. Add vanilla.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt and nutmeg. Gradually add the flour mixture to the batter about 1/4 at a time and beat together. Add about 1/3 of the milk, and continue to alternate combining the milk and flour until all well incorporated.

Butter a 9x9 pan, and spoon the batter in, smoothing the top with a spatula. Bake for 30-35 minutes.

It Was a Close One - Bittersweet Chocolate Truffle Tart

This was a near disaster. Can you imagine the anticipation of a perfect chocolate truffle tart, only to have it turn into a complete and utter failure? The Horror, the HORROR! Thankfully, it turned out well in the end, and I even learned a few things in the process. Has chocolate ever seized on you? Meaning that when you add a bit of liquid to the chocolate mixture, it begins to clump up? I'd never experienced that before, and I was immediately convinced I had ruined the luscious chocolate tart I'd been trying to create for my Sister. She was alarmed by my cries of distress, and in her older sister wisdom, she calmly stepped over to the computer to find the remedy online. The solution was to add more liquid (cream) until the mixture became smooth again.

The reason chocolate seizes, is that the chocolate itself is dry, without any water contact. When liquid hits it, the sugar and cacao absorb it and clump together. To fix that, more liquid needs to be added so that the chocolate becomes saturated and turns into something more like a syrup.

So, the near disaster became a learning opportunity, and the tart was saved. Not only was it saved, it was divine. Literally, a chocolate truffle filling. Rich and completely decadent. I caught my sister several times in the following nights, sneaking a slice here and there once my nieces had gone to bed. I also caught my Father and my Mother sneaking slices as well, until two days later, when the tart had completely and mysteriously disappeared...

All I know is, I only had one slice.

And if I didn't, I was sly enough to sneak them when no one else was around. But really, who's to say?

A side note concerning the crust: I used the extra pine nut crust I had from the Lemon Tart recipe I'd made the previous week (it was a tart happy month in our house) and I thought it was perfect for this, but I'm sure a basic crust recipe would do just fine. Feel free to substitute.

Bittersweet Chocolate Truffle Tart

adapted from several sources

6 ounces good quality bittersweet chocolate (such as Scharffen berger)

1/2 cup butter

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup heavy whipping cream

1 tsp vanilla

3 eggs

1/4 tsp salt

1 pine nut tart crust (or whatever crust recipe you choose.)

While your tart crust is baking, prepare the chocolate truffle filling. Add chocolate and butter to a heavy-bottomed saucepan over low heat. Melt and stir frequently. When the mixture is thoroughly melted, add in the sugar and vanilla. Whisk the eggs, salt and cream together in a medium mixing bowl until well-combined. Add a small amount of the chocolate into the egg mixture, and then slowly add the mixture back into the chocolate, mixing until smooth and glossy. Pour the mixture into the baked tart shell. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 20-25 minutes, until the chocolate filling has set. It should shake ever so slightly when done. Cool on a wire rack for 30 minutes, and then chill in the refrigerator, uncovered, for two hours until the filling has set and firmed completely. Dust with a small amount of cocoa powder, if desired.

From Bouchon - Bouchon's Lemon Tart

I've been lucky enough to have eaten at Thomas Keller's restaurant Bouchon several times in my life. A couple times with my parents when they lived in Napa, and last year for a wonderful Valentines Day lunch, complete with champagne and oysters. It's one of my favorite restaurants, and I've never had anything there that was less than stellar.

On my first visit with my Mother, we ended the meal with a slice of fresh lemon tart. I've never particularly cared for lemon flavored desserts or candy. In fact, I used to remove all traces of it from whatever I was eating. Yellow skittles? Always precisely plucked from the bag before eating the acceptable flavors. Lemon Jolly Ranchers? No thank you. Lemon Bars? Nope. I just never cared for the synthetic flavor, which tasted too overpowering and fake to me.

So I'd never really ventured into the world of fresh lemon desserts. Needless to say, because of that, I didn't exactly have high hopes when the slice of tart at Bouchon hit the table. But, it was Bouchon. And one has to figure that they know what they're doing in a Thomas Keller restaurant. Lemon desserts also happen to be one of my Mother's favorites. I picked up my fork and gingerly took a bite.

It was, to. die. for.

Smooth and tart with just the right amount of sweetness. The crust reminded me of a sable cookie, finely ground and buttery. It was a truly perfect dessert.

Now that I'm home for the holidays, I've been wanting to make a dish for each member of my family, something special. I knew this would be the perfect thing to make for my Mother. I was just hoping I could pull it off, and that it would bare some sort of resemblance to what we had at Bouchon years and years ago.

I have to say, I'm pretty impressed with myself. Well, more impressed with the recipe actually, which, while intricate, was actually quite easy to follow and turned out beautifully. Word to the wise, my six year old niece thought it was a tad too sour, the adults disagreed. I guess I'd now consider this a grown-up dessert. Especially because of the pine nut crust. Don't let that intimidate you or scare you off, this is possibly the greatest tart crust...ever.

There. I said it. Now go make it.

Bouchon's Lemon Tart

serves 9

The recipe for this dough makes enough for 3 tarts, you can freeze two portions for later use.

Sabayon is a light custard like filling.

Pine nut crust

2 cups pine nuts (about 9 ounces)
1/3 cup sugar
3 cups flour
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Place the pine nuts in a food processor and pulse a few times. Add the sugar and flour and continue to pulse until the nuts are finely ground. Place the nut mixture in a mixing bowl and add the butter, egg and vanilla. Beat with an electric mixer or by hand until thoroughly combined. Next, divide the dough into 3 parts. Wrap each piece in plastic wrap. Freeze 2 pieces for future use and refrigerate the third piece for at least 10 minutes before using.

Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Generously butter and flour a 9-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom and refrigerate it while the oven heats. Once the oven has heated, remove the tart pan from the refrigerator and use your fingertips to press the chilled dough over the bottom and up the sides of the pan. Trim off excess.

Bake the crust for 10 to 15 minutes, then rotate the shell and continue baking until golden brown, another 10 to 15 minutes. Remove the shell from the oven while you make the filling. There may be some cracks in the shell. They will not affect the tart.

Lemon sabayon

2 eggs, cold
2 egg yolks, cold
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup lemon juice
6 tablespoons butter

Bring about 1 1/2 inches of water to a boil in a pot that is slightly smaller than the diameter of the mixing bowl you will be using for the sabayon. Meanwhile, in a large metal bowl, whisk the eggs, yolks and sugar until smooth, about 1 minute.

Set the bowl over the pot so that it's not touching the water, and, using a large whisk, whip the mixture while you turn the bowl, for even heating. When the eggs are foamy and have thickened, about 2 minutes, add one-third of the lemon juice. Continue to whisk vigorously and when the mixture thickens again, add another third of the lemon juice. Whisk until the mixture thickens again, then add the remaining lemon juice. Continue whisking vigorously, still turning the bowl, until the mixture is thickened and light in color, and the whisk leaves a trail at the bottom of the bowl. The total cooking time should be about 8 to 10 minutes.

Turn off the heat, but leave the bowl over the water as you add the butter, whisking in, one tablespoon at a time. The sabayon may loosen slightly, but it will thicken and set as it cools.

Pour into the tart shell and place on a baking sheet. Heat the broiler. While the sabayon is still warm, place the tart under the broiler. Leaving the oven door open, brown the top of the sabayon, rotating the tart if necessary for even color, about 20 to 30 seconds. Keep an eye on the tart so it doesn't burn.

Remove the tart from the oven and let it sit at least 1 hour before serving at room temperature or chilled.

Sweet Tart - Pear & Almond Tart

It may look pretty, but I have to say I'm disappointed in myself. The recipe calls for three pears. I don't know how, but I forgot to add a whole pear to this dessert. There should be six fans of pear in this tart, as you can see, I only have four. I don't have much to say for myself, other than that I've been a tad forgetful as of late. And I can promise you, it would have looked even better with the correct amount of pear.

But I pulled it together last minute, and served the remaining pear as a compote on the side. This dessert was the first thing to disappear from the Thanksgiving dessert table, and I can't think of why it should make a repeat appearance this Christmas. The natives are getting restless. They want this tart.

There are those in my family who are crazy about marzipan. For me, it's become an acquired taste. Years before, I found it too be too sweet and cloying for my taste, now, I realize just how delicious it is as long as it's served with something acidic to offset the sweetness. This tart is a delicious combination. It looks and tastes absolutely festive.

It does requires a good deal of assembly and patience, but as they say, good things come to those who wait. The crust, pears and almond filling can all be made the day before, for easy assembling and baking the day of serving.

Pear & Almond Tart

adapted from Smitten Kitchen and Bon Appetit

Sweet Tart Crust

adapted from Dorie Greenspan

makes enough for one 9-inch tart crust

1 1/2 cups flour

1/2 cup powdered sugar

1/2 tsp salt

1 stick plus 1 tbsp very cold, unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1 large egg yolk

Combine flour, sugar and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse a few times to combine. Add the pieces of butter, scattered through the mixture, and pulse until the mixture is well combined and almost flaky looking. The pieces should be the size of small peas. Stir in the yolk a little at a time, pulsing after each addition. Turn the food processor on for about 10 seconds until the mixture is well combined. Turn the dough out and knead to incorporate any dry ingredients that haven't been added in. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and chill in the refrigerator for about 2 hours before rolling.

Butter a 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. Roll out the chilled dough on a floured piece of parchment paper, lifting and turning while you work to be sure it doesn't stick to the paper. Using the paper, turn the dough over into the tart pan. Peel off the paper and seal any cracks in the dough. Trim off the overhang (should be about 1/2 an inch) and fold the remaining overhang in making the tart sides thicker. Pierce all over with a fork.

Freeze the crust for about half an hour before baking.

Put an oven rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 375. Butter the shiny side of a piece of aluminum foil and press the buttered side down tightly against the crust, smoothing it out to fit the crust. You can now bake the crust without any weights. Bake for 25 minutes.

Remove the foil, if the crust has started to puff it up, gently press it down with the back of a spoon. Bake 5-10 minutes longer, until the crust has turned golden. Don't bake until it takes on a dark color, if that happens the crust will be too hard. Transfer to a rack and cool to room temp.

Pears: you can use either canned or fresh pears for this recipe. If you use canned, be sure to drain and dry them well.

Pears:

4 cups water

1 1/4 cups sugar

1 1/2 tbsp fresh lemon juice

3 medium sized firm but ripe Bosc Pears, peeled

For the Almond Filling:

2/3 cup blanched slivered almonds

1 tbsp flour

7 tbsp sugar

6 tbsp (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, room temp

1 large egg

1/2 tsp almond extract

1 sweet tart shell (recipe above)

powdered sugar for dusting

For the pears: Bring water, sugar and lemon juice to boil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring until the sugar is dissolved. Add the pears and reduce the heat to medium, simmer until the pears are tender (a fork will pierce them easily) about 20 minutes. Cool the pears in the syrup in the refrigerator.

For the almond filling: Combine the almonds and flour in the a food processor. Mix in the sugar, butter and flavorings. Blend until smooth. Add the egg. Pulse again. Transfer the filling to a bowl, cover and chill for 3 hours. Keep the mixture cold.

Preheat the oven to 350. Spread the almond mixture evenly into the baked tart crust. Remove the stem from the pears and cut each pear in half, lengthwise. Remove the cores. Cut each half crosswise into thin slices, gently press each pear half into fan slices, keeping the slices tightly overlapped. Slide a thin spatula under the pears and arrange on top of the filling, placing the narrow end towards the center of the tart.

Bake tart about 55 minutes until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. The almond filling should be puffed and golden. Cool the tart in the pan. When it's time to serve, push the bottom of the tart pan up until the tart is released from the pan. Sprinkle with powdered sugar, cut into wedges and serve.

This tart can be made 8 hours in advance. The pears and almond filling can all be made a day in advance.

Handmade - Mini Pumpkin Maple Bourbon Pies

Some people taste something and decide it needs lemon. Sometimes salt. Lately, I often find myself adding one of two things, bourbon or bacon. And at some point soon I am determined to find an occasion to use both at the same time.


Last week Amy extended an invitation to sell some co-handmade good at a Handmade East Bay event (complete with DJ). I readily agreed and we decided the Pepitas Brittle and some mini pumpkin pies would be the perfect items to sell. This meant I had some recipe testing to do. I decided to do the baking on the day of Amber's 30th (she was dutifully studying and attending class that evening, so I offered up pie on a study break).

And so the mini maple bourbon pumpkin pies were born. I cheated on this recipe and used roll out store-bought crusts. The next round I'm going to try a filo dough crust as well. The bourbon isn't too overpowering in this recipe, it's just the smallest hint. These, along with the pepitas brittle, make great holiday gifts.

If you'd care to attend the East Bay Craft Event this Sunday, shoot me an email!



Mini Pumpkin Maple Bourbon Pies
adapted from Bon Appetit
alternatively, will make 1 9inch pie

two store bought pie crusts (use the ones that you can unroll and cut like cookie dough)

2 eggs
3/4 cup half and half
3 tbsp maple syrup
3 tbsp bourbon
3/4 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups canned pumpkin
6 tbsp packed brown sugar
3 1/2 tsp all purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice
1/2 tsp salt

For mini pies, grease four 5inch tart pans (you can find these at a kitchen supply store, I got mine at Sur La Table) and for a regular pie, one 9inch pie pan. Pre-heat the oven to 400. Put the crust into the pans, line the crust with foil and add dried beans or lentils to weigh the crust down. Bake for 10 minutes. Remove foil and beans, pierce the crusts several times with a fork. Bake 5 more minutes. Remove and cool on racks. Reduce oven to 350.

Whisk eggs and next 3 ingredients in a medium sized bowl. Whisk pumpkin, sugar, flour, spices and salt in another medium bowl; add to the egg mixture whisk until well-blended. Pour filling into the crusts.

Bake the pies until the filling is puffed around the edges and the center jiggles only slightly when the pans are shaken. About 1 hour. Remove and set aside to cool.

Make Your Own Luck - Pepitas Brittle

I've been thinking a lot lately about luck. I've been thinking about people who seem to have a talent for things, who are just automatically great at something they do. I wonder if you can ever really be great at anything without some effort put into it. I suppose there are those people, just random anomalies, that step onto the court or up to the task and just have what it takes, without any thought or effort. It seems to be just sheer luck. But honestly, how many people do you know that are able to do that?

Not many, I would imagine. And if you do, they are almost certainly the exception to the rule.

In general, if you want something, you put in the time and the effort. And you keep putting in whatever it takes, as long as you want it enough. You work at things to get better at them. You practice the instrument, you refine your craft. You hone new skills to apply to the things you love. You don't stop learning just because you get comfortable. The minute you stop working, is the minute it starts to slip away into complacency.

How hard should you have to work at something? Should it always be easy? If you have the talent, should it all just come naturally? Personally, I'm always shocked when something comes easy for anyone. It's not the norm, no matter how many people continually expect it to be, and make excuses for things in their lives to compensate for the fact that they just couldn't put in the time and effort. You have to want it. You have to practice. In the end, most often, you tend to make your own luck.

I made my own luck out of my pantry tonight. You know what I like? Recipes with only 3 ingredients. Especially when I already have those 3 ingredients on hand. That's just the best.

Pepitas Brittle
adapted from Gourmet
I'm putting together several bags of this stuff for Christmas presents, so good with ice cream.

1/4 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup pepitas (Mexican pumpkin seeds) toasted

Line a 4 sided pan with foil. Bring water and sugar to a boil in a small light-bottomed saucepan over medium heat, stir until sugar is dissolved. Using a pastry brush dipped in cold water, brush the sugar crystals off the sides of the saucepan. Continue to boil but do not stir, instead, gently swirl the saucepan occasional so that the sugar caramelizes evenly. Continue until the mixture is a golden-amber color, about 10 minutes. Stir in the pepitas and immediately pour over the foil, quickly spreading into a thin disk with a silicon spatula. Cool 5 minutes, then break into pieces.

Thankful - Cranberry Pecan Cake

My one year old niece has just recently learned how to say my name. She omits the "E" at the beginning, so it's just "Lissa," but it's the best sound. I couldn't hear it enough. She has about a billion nicknames herself already. We traded them back and forth over the holiday, a sort of call and repeat. Tonight I got to hear it again over the phone. She sounded so happy.

Leaving home was difficult, and I'm having a hard time being back. It's hard to be away from my family, and I wish I could still be home with them all. This time of year makes me miss them all the more, and this year, more than ever, I realize just how thankful I am for them all.

I didn't make this cake for Thanksgiving. I made a pear and almond tart instead that will soon be making an appearance here. This cake is one everyone should have in their repertoire. Calling it a cake isn't totally accurate. It's a bit of a cross between a cake and a tart, maybe even a bread depending on what you cook it in. It's tart, just a bit sweet, spectacular right out of the oven and it tastes like the holidays. I've even had it requested as a birthday cake before. It's one of my favorites, and it's so easy. Just toss all the ingredients together and throw it in the oven. I like to use fresh cranberries, but frozen will work nicely.


Cranberry Pecan Cake

1 cup toasted pecans, chopped
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) butter melted, with a bit extra for the pan
3/4 cup sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 tsp almond extract
1 cup flour
2 cups cranberries (fresh or frozen)
raw sugar for topping
zest of 1 orange
whipped cream

Pre-heat oven to 375. Combine pecans through the cranberries in a large mixing bowl. Brush pan with butter. Scoop mixture into a pie pan, tart pan or small baking dish. Bake 30-40 minutes, until knife inserted into the middle comes out clean. Let cool. Top with orange zest and raw sugar. Serve with whipped cream. Also delicious for breakfast.

Thomas Keller's Chocolate Chip Cookies

I'd say this has been a tough week, but it's only Monday. I'd say it's been a tough month, but we're hardly halfway through it. I guess it's just more of a tough time in general.

It's hard to know when to walk away from something you've put time and effort into. Be it a job, a relationship or any life event. It's hard to accept the fact that you've given so much energy and time and still things didn't work out as you'd hoped, and now it's time to move on. How do you do that without regret? How do you feel like your time wasn't completely wasted, and that it was all for nothing?

Those are the times when people like to say things like, "You learned something from all this," or "You do the most growing in times of heartache and change." You hear those kinds of things a lot. And you want to believe it. That you've learned your lesson, that you've gained from the experience and become a better person, but underneath it all, you can't help feeling like you've failed at something.

And people will then say, "Follow your heart. Trust your instincts." And I sometimes wonder what that means, or why if I do understand, it's usually the hardest path to take.

If I step back and think about it all in terms of years and not days and hours, I know that, eventually, it won't be about the little things that carry so much weight in this particular moment in time. Eventually, it won't be about what was said and done, it will be about my own response to all of it. What I did with it and where I chose to go from there.

Because if you didn't learn your lesson the first time, it will come back to haunt you, one way or another in the next job you take, in the next person you love. Those issues will be back, and you'll have nothing but the knowledge that until you make the right choice, you haven't gained anything. Even though it's hard, even though it's scary to feel like you've failed at something again, it has to be better to move forward, to not keep putting things off and living your life at a standstill. Because that would be the real failure. To know things need to change, to know what you need to do and not do it. Like living your life in-between.

And maybe it takes a few times around to really learn your lessons. But once it's done, you won't forget. And when it comes around again you can smile with the recognition and the knowledge that you're done with that one, and you'll hopefully meet the next challenge head on, learning, however hard it may be, not to always run from the fear and the pain, but to sometimes accept it as an opportunity, and to be the person in that time that you'd like to remember and appreciate years later. That's the opportunity. To become the person you want to be in that situation. Even when it's hard. Especially then.

It's a hard time. But I have and will have even more perspective. And cookie dough. And I will always share, both the cookies, and also, what I know to be true now.

This is the second installment in the quest to find the ultimate chocolate chip cookie recipe. So far, after much debate, this seems to have beat out the classic recipe for several of my friends. It's not as sweet as the classic, leaving room to really taste and appreciate the two different kinds of chocolate used. Make of that what you will, and make your own decision. I'm reserving mine until the end. Two more recipes to go!

Thomas Keller's Chocolate Chip Cookies
from the Ad Hoc Cookbook
makes about 30 3-inch cookies

2 1/4 cups plus 1 tbsp all purpose flour
3/4 tsp baking soda
1 tsp kosher salt
5 ounces 55% chocolate, cut into chip-sized pieces (about 1 1/4 cups)
5 ounces 70 to 72% chocolate, cut into chip-sized pieces (about 1 1/4 cups)
1/2 lb (2 sticks) cold butter cut into small pieces
1 cup packed dark brown sugar, preferably molasses sugar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs

Position the oven racks in the lower and upper thirds of the oven and preheat to 350. Use a silpat, or line a baking sheet with parchment.

Sift the flour and baking soda together in a medium bowl, stir in salt. Put the chips in a fine-mesh strainer and shake to remove any of the chocolate "dust" (small fragments).

In a mixing bowl, beat half the butter with a hand held mixer (or kitchen aid) on medium speed until fairly smooth. Add both sugars and the remaining butter, and beat until well combined, then beat for a few minutes, until the mixture is light and creamy. Scrape down the sides of the bowl. Add the eggs one at a time, beating until the first one is incorporated before adding the next and scraping the bowl as necessary. Add the dry ingredients and mix on low speed to combine. Mix in the chocolate.

Fold the dough with a spatula to be sure the chocolate is evenly incorporated. At this point, you can shape the dough into cookies and either refrigerate (well wrapped) for up to 5 days, or freeze for up to 2 weeks. Each cookie should be about 2 tbsp in size. Arrange 8 cookies on each pan leaving about 2 inches of space in between as the dough will spread. Bake for 12 minutes or until the tops are no longer shiny, switching the position and rotating the pans halfway through baking.

Cool the cookies on the pans on racks for about 2 minutes to firm up a bit, then transfer the cookies just to racks to cook completely.

The Ultimate - Basic Chocolate Chip Cookie

I am about to launch a bomb on my friends and co-workers. I have hereby commenced the great chocolate chip cookie bake-off of 2009.

Listen, god knows the blogosphere certainly doesn't need another chocoloate chip cookie recipe. I'm sure there are a million recipes out there that will do just fine. And frankly, when it comes right down to it, when you want a chocolate chip cookie, you want just that. You don't want to spend a whole lot of time pouring over the intricate details about what makes this particular cookie so much better than the others. You just want it to be warm, straight out of the oven and to go nicely with a cold glass of milk. At least, that's what I want.

But. I do have my curiosities. There are several recipes out there proclaiming to produce the end-all-be-all of cookies. Three of these recipes have caught my eye.

1. The 2008 NY Times David Leite/Jaques Torres cookie (Claim to fame -a combination of bread and cake flour and chocolate discs, or feves.)

2. The Thomas Keller Ad Hoc cookie (Claim to fame - Keller uses dark brown sugar, a departure from the light brown sugar method so many recipes call for. He also uses two kinds of chocolate chips. One 55% chocolate, the other 72%, which gives a more complex flavor, apparently.)

3. The Cooks Illustrated "Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies" ( Claim to fame - two words. Brown. Butter.)

Aren't you curious to know which of the three produces the ultimate cookie? Let's go over our requirements, shall we? The perfect cookies should be:

1. Warm, right out of the oven and served with the requisite milk


2. Crisp on the edges, chewy and soft on the inside. Not crumbly and cakey.


3. Have the correct ratio of sugar and salt. Good salt can go a long way towards bringing out the chocolate flavor.


4. The cookie should not have an overpowering vanilla extract flavor.

Is that it? Have I missed anything? What does your perfect chocolate chip cookie require?

And finally, I said that the quest had begun. I took what I believe to be a very basic cookie recipe and adapted it from several sources to start us off. Here it is, the recipe upon which, all other recipes will be based. And I will have you know that one of my co-worker's pronounced a cookie from this recipe to be the best she'd ever eaten. Just wait!

Oh, and in case you're curious? Yes, this is basically exactly the same as the recipe on the back of the Nestle Tollhouse chocolate chip bag. The ol' standby of all our youths!

Chocolate Chip Cookies - Basic Recipe

2 1/4 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp coarse salt
10 ounces dark chocolate chips
2 sticks of butter, at room temperature
2 eggs
3/4 cup white sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar
2 tsp vanilla extract

In a large bowl whisk together the flour through the salt. Combine the chocolate chips. Cream the butter and sugar together in another bowl until well combined and fluffy with a hand-held mixer or in a kitchen-aid. Add the vanilla and one egg at a time, mixing well after each egg is added.

Gently fold in half the flour mixture in with a rubber spatula, mixing well. Add the other half and combine. Cover and chill in the fridge for 24 hours (this is the key to a really chewy cookie, but if you, like me, can't wait that long, put them on a middle rack in a 350 oven for 15-18 minutes on a cookie sheet lined with parchment.) When you're ready to bake, use your hands to form balls of dough about 2 inches in diameter. That's if you like a fairly large cookie.

I like to rotate the cookie sheet at least once during the cooking time so that each side bakes evenly.

I sometimes add a teaspoon of espresso or finely ground coffee to give these a kick.