Apple-Cranberry Pudding

I'm not sure why this dessert is called a "pudding" and put in the pudding section of Maida's book. To me, it's a cobbler pure and simple. But hey, who am I to complain? This section of the book has had its share of brilliant successes and dismal failures, so it was nice to end it with something everyone liked.

This is a great recipe for a midwinter, mid-week dessert. You start by digging a bag of precious cranberries out of the freezer and supplementing them with chopped apples, equally precious chopped pecans, and sugar.

Then you take 5 minutes to mix together some melted butter (I bet that if you took an extra 5 minutes to brown the butter, that would taste dynamite), eggs, sugar, and flour and pour that on top.

Finally, you give this concoction some time in the oven while you tend to dinner. By the time you've finished dinner, dessert is ready!

The cranberries put the dessert over into the tart side, even though the topping is as sweet and buttery as you could ask, so you'll want to serve this with something sweet and creamy: I chose sweetened crème fraîche, but vanilla ice cream would also be a very good choice.
According to the rest of my family, this also made a very good breakfast the next morning ("It's fruit! It's healthy!"). Maybe with a scoop of Greek yogurt to feel virtuous about the whole thing?

Here's the recipe.

Apple-Cranberry Pudding

1 bag (12 oz.) fresh or frozen cranberries
2 large cooking apples--Maida recommends Granny Smith or Jonathan. I used 4 small Elstar apples.
1/2 c. (2 oz.) chopped toasted pecans
1/2 c. (3/5 oz.) sugar--raw sugar might be a good choice here

Heat the oven to 325. Butter a shallow casserole or baking dish--Maida suggests an 11x8-inch dish if you have one. Rinse and pick over the cranberries. Peel, core, and cut the apples into chunks. Mix the cranberries, apples, pecans, and sugar in the casserole dish. Set aside while you make the topping.

3/4 c. (6 oz.) butter
1 c. (7 oz.) sugar
1/2 t. vanilla--not in the original recipe, but I like vanilla in batters like this
2 large eggs
1 c. (5 oz.) flour--I used about 2 oz. whole wheat pastry flour (110)

In a microwave-safe bowl, melt the butter (or melt/brown it in a small saucepan over medium heat). Add the sugar, then the vanilla, then the eggs one at a time, and finally the flour. It's like making blondies!
Spread this mixture over the cranberries and apples. Bake for 50 minutes, or until the top is golden and the  filling is bubbling at the edges. Serve warm with vanilla ice cream or your favorite sweet creamy topping. This should serve about 8.

Raspberry Pâté

At some point during the holiday season, I lose all my will to bake. That's usually after I've baked the 11th or 12th batch of cookies. Family and friends no longer want to look at cookies, much less eat them. In fact, we've often already done our overeating before the actual holidays arrive.

 And yet, somehow, this Wednesday between Christmas and New Years, I decided I'd make a feast just for the family. I got a fancy roast from the butcher, made a gratin and sautéed wild mushrooms and cooked green beans. And I made this raspberry pâté.

There are two difficult aspects to this dessert, and you see the first above. You've got almost 2 pounds of raspberries that you need to force through a strainer. That takes a lot of patience and wrist strength.

 The second is the gelatin aspect. I still haven't figured out the gelatin/agar-agar thing, and the strange mushiness of this dessert is probably testimony to my lack of skill. Still, I consider it a success since I was able to actually cut slices of this rather than serve it in soup bowls.

 So, this is a sort of very rich gelatin dessert, with both cream cheese and whipped cream. It has intense raspberry flavor and isn't too sweet or rich. We all liked it a lot, except that Sami requested we not call it "pâté" since that name is in fact a bit off-putting for a dessert. He suggested "sliceable pudding", which still needs a bit of work, in my opinion. Maybe Bavarian cream cheese?

With the raspberry sauce and whipped cream, it's quite the elegant and festive dessert to serve after an elegant and festive meal--or just if you feel like having something special as you recover from the holidays. Here's to a great 2012! 

And here's the recipe:

Raspberry Pâté

30 oz. frozen raspberries in syrup (or 30 oz. raspberries and about 1/2 cup sugar), thawed

1 envelope unflavored gelatin

1 c. (8 oz.) whipping cream

8 oz. cream cheese, room temperature

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) sugar

Pinch salt

Juice of 1 lemon

Very carefully line a 6-cup loaf pan with aluminum foil (in hindsight, if you have a silicone mold, that might be the way to go here.). Don't let it tear like I did, or you'll have the same mess on your hands that I did. Put a strainer over a large bowl. Pour the raspberries and syrup (if you mix the raspberries and sugar before they thaw, a syrup will form) into the strainer. Before you start pressing down on the raspberries, pour out 1/2 cup (4 oz.) syrup. Pour 1/4 cup of that syrup in a small bowl and sprinkle with gelatin. Let sit while you work to force the raspberries through the strainer. I find a food mill unfortunately lets through far too many seeds to work well, so the strainer it must be. Put an interesting podcast or some good music on and grit your teeth. Make sure you scrape the bottom of the strainer well. Let that sit while you do some more prep: Whip the cream to soft peaks in a smallish bowl and refrigerate that for a bit. In the large bowl of a mixer, beat the cream cheese, sugar, salt, and lemon juice until light and fluffy. Beat in the hard-won raspberry purée. Mine looked kind of curdled, but it turned out OK in the end.

Remember the gelatin you had softening? Time to melt the gelatin. Heat a bit of water in a small saucepan: when you start to see steam and small bubbles, put the (heat-safe) cup with the gelatin in it; stir until it's dissolved. Carefully remove from the hot water and add the remaining 1/4 cup of syrup. Beat this into the cream cheese mixture.

Oops, this is the step I missed but you shouldn't if you want your pâté to set up better than mine: Put the bowl with the cream cheese mixture in a larger bowl of ice water and stir with a rubber scraper until it starts to thicken. It should be about the same consistency as the whipped cream you're about to fold in. When it reaches that consistency, remove from the ice water bath and fold in the whipped cream. Pour this mixture into the prepared pan. Cover with plastic wrap and let chill at least 6 hours or overnight. 

While it's chilling, you'll want to prepare the raspberry sauce. Brace yourself: it involves more raspberry straining. In fact, if you're more organized than I am, you could thaw an extra 10 ounces of raspberries (in syrup, or with an added 2-3 T. sugar) along with the 30 ounces for the pâté, strain them, and take out enough so that you have 1-1/2 cups of purée for the pâté and the rest for the sauce. In any case, once you've strained the raspberries, you're home free: just add a bit (1 t.) of kirsch or cassis or framboise if you've got it. Taste to correct sweetness and chill until you're ready to serve.

When you're ready to serve, first whip 1 cup (8 oz.) whipping cream with 1 T. powdered sugar and 1/2 t. vanilla (and/or a bit more of that kirsch/framboise/cassis). 

OK, now it's time to unmold the pâté. First get out the plate you want to serve on. Then dip the bottom of the pan in hot water (this is another step I neglected but shouldn't have). Put the serving plate upside-down on top of the loaf pan and then reverse the two so that the serving plate is now on the bottom. With any luck, the pâté should unmold easily. Peel off the foil and breathe a sigh of relief. Now cut the dessert into slices and plate prettily with a spoonful each of raspberry sauce and whipped cream. Feel fancy.

Blueberry Surprise Cake

So this was the last cake in the book, and it's a good one. We had it for Saturday breakfast, but it would make a really nice afternoon tea kind of cake as well.

As you can perhaps see, the "blueberry surprise" element here comes from the fact that you put in a layer of buttery sour cream cake, then a layer of spiced berries, and then more cake (now with nuts added). You don't see the berries until you cut into the cake.

 The cake is perhaps a bit time-consuming for a Saturday morning: the batter and all come together fairly quickly (though it involves turning on the mixer, which I don't love doing so early in the morning), but it needs about an hour in the oven. But then again, given that the rest of the family isn't up until at least an hour after me, that's probably fine.

 The cake then gets a lemon-y glaze. I considered leaving it off, since the cake was breakfast and all, but I think I made the right decision to go for it: the tart sweetness adds a nice extra dimension.

When I cut into the cake, I thought, "wow, that kind of looks like a Pop-Tart!" Given that I don't much like Pop-Tarts, I'm glad that it doesn't actually taste like one. It's a nice mix of buttery richness and fruity sweetness. It was a great cake to finish off a long succession of great cakes.

Here's the recipe.

Blueberry Surprise Cake

1 c. (4 oz.) fresh (I used frozen) blueberries

3 T. (I used 2) sugar

1 t. cinnamon

1/4 t. nutmeg

1 t. lemon juice (attention: zest the lemon before you squeeze it; you're going to want that zest for the cake batter)

Mix all these ingredients in a smallish bowl and set aside.

1 c. (8 oz.) butter

2 t. baking powder

1/4 t. salt

Grated zest of 1 lemon

1 t. vanilla

1-1/3 c. (9.3 oz.) sugar

2 large eggs

1 c. (8 oz.) sour cream

2 c. (8 oz.) sifted flour (yes, I used some whole wheat here)

1/3 c. (1.3 oz.) toasted chopped pecans

Heat the oven to 350. Butter a 9-inch springform and dust with breadcrumbs, wheat germ, or ground nuts (I used ground almonds). Cream the butter with the baking powder, salt, lemon zest, and vanilla until light and fluffy. Gradually add the sugar and beat a couple more minutes until even more light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each. Beat in the sour cream and then mix in the flour at low speed. Carefully spoon half the batter all around the bottom of the prepared springform pan and spread it out as best you can--I had trouble getting the batter all the way out to the edges and it wanted to come up off the bottom of the pan. Then sprinkle on the berries, leaving a 1-inch margin at the edges. Add the pecans to the batter, stir them in, and then spoon the batter onto the berries, again gingerly spreading the batter as evenly as possible. Bake for 1 hour 20 minutes (check after 45 minutes) or until the top of the cake springs back when lightly pressed. The toothpick won't work because of the berries in the middle.

Let the cake stand in the pan while you make the glaze:

1 c. (4 oz.) powdered (icing) sugar

Juice of 1 lemon

boiling water as needed

In a small bowl, mix together the sugar and lemon juice. If the glaze isn't thin enough to barely pour, add a few drops of boiling water. 

Cut around the sides of the cake if necessary and remove the sides of the springform pan. Turn the cake over onto a rack and remove the bottom. Then reverse again onto a plate so that the cake is right-side up. Drizzle the glaze over the warm cake and spread it to cover the top--let it drip down the sides if you have enough. Obviously I didn't use the full cup of sugar here.

Enjoy the cake warm or room temperature. If you're not having it for breakfast, whipped cream or ice cream would be nice, but they're definitely not necessary.

Cranberry Upside-Down Cake

Here it is, "Thanksgiving" morning--we celebrated the Saturday after--in my new, improved kitchen. You can tell I've been busy: you can see, from the foreground, Brownie Schrumpf's brownies and Pennsylvania squares, some mango bread we ate for breakfast, some cheese straws ready for the oven, and way in the back on all my counter space, a bowl of toasted bread cubes waiting to become stuffing. Yes, even though I have a lot more counter space, I somehow manage to use it all.

This side of the kitchen is even more of a transformation: lots more counter space around the stove and a new sink. Of course we soon discovered that the wooden countertop doesn't like being near the sink, but I'm sure we'll very soon have a fix for that. Anyway, I am so very grateful to have a husband who's willing to put in the time and talent so that I can have a fabulous kitchen.

But back what I've been cooking in the kitchen. Of course I made pumpkin and pecan pie, but I wanted to do something for the blog as well, and Cranberry Upside-Down Cake seemed like the way to go. It's festive and easy enough to fit in with all the many other holiday dishes.

The fresh cranberries I got at my local supermarket (from Wisconsin) were huge! Underneath them is a thick layer of butter and sugar. Warning: the silicone pan was not the way to go here, as the sugar never caramelized. Use a metal cake pan and perhaps put a cookie sheet under it.

The cake batter comes together quickly, and you just pour and spread it on top.

Here it is fresh from the oven before being reversed on a plate.

And here's the result after being reversed but before being glazed (and set in a corner to wait while other dishes got the spotlight). Note the white patches of unmelted sugar. I was rather disappointed with that.

Of course, I got busy with cooking and guests (12 for dinner, a stretch for our small apartment) and didn't take a picture of the final product, but it was really delicious. It's got a refreshing tartness that was nicely offset by the crème fraîche I served with it. Mind you, like the Cranberry Grunt before it, this cake was the last to be finished, but I enjoyed every piece.

Here's the recipe. It's not pumpkin pie, but maybe that's OK.

Cranberry Upside-Down Cake

10 T. (5 oz.) butter, room temperature, divided

1 c. (7 oz.) sugar, divided

1 12-oz. bag cranberries, rinsed and drained

1-1/2 t. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

Grated rind of one (organic) orange

1 t. vanilla

1 egg

1-1/4 c. (5 oz.) sifted flour (I used some whole wheat, of course)

2/3 c. (5.3 oz.) milk

1/3 c. red currant jelly

Heat the oven to 350. Find a 9-inch cake pan that is at least 1 inch deep, preferably deeper. A pie plate might do the trick if you don't have a deep enough cake pan.

Take 4 T. (2 oz.) of the butter and smear it in a thick layer on the bottom and up the sides of the pan. Sprinkle that with half of the sugar. Put the berries in a single layer over that. Set the pan aside while you make the cake batter.

Beat the rest of the butter (3 oz.) with the baking powder, salt, orange rind, and vanilla until fluffy. Add the remaining sugar and beat another minute or two. Beat in the egg and beat another minute. Add half the flour at low speed, then the milk, then the rest of the flour. Pour the batter over the cranberries and spread it evenly: it should cover them fairly thoroughly, and the pan will be quite full. Bake (on a baking sheet for insurance) for 1 hour (check after as little as 35 minutes: mine was done at that point). The top of the cake will become dark brown. Cool the cake in the pan for 20 minutes. After 10 minutes, cut around the sides of the cake. While the cake is cooling, melt the jelly in a glass bowl in the microwave for about 30 seconds, or until it has melted. When the 20 minutes are up, cut around the sides of the cake again, put a plate on top of the cake pan, and (using potholders) flip the cake upside down on the plate. If you're lucky, the cake will slide right out. If you're not, scrape out the cranberries, put them back on top of the cake, and remember that you're going to be covering them up anyway. Pour the melted jelly on top of the cake, using a spoon to spread it out to the sides. Cool to room temperature. Serve with whipped cream, vanilla ice cream or crème fraîche.

East Blue Hill Blueberry Coffee Cake

Last weekend was a three-day weekend (Armistice Day), and a well-deserved one at that: since I would be missing my four classes on Friday, my school's administration in all its wisdom spread the courses out over three days, two of which I normally have off. So I was ready for the holiday to roll around. 

The Saturday morning of a three-day weekend is awesome because it feels like it's already Sunday, but it's not! It's that feeling you get when your alarm goes off but you don't actually have to get up. And so getting up and making coffee cake was not a chore (well, it never is) but a pleasure.

And this is a good one: a simple butter cake topped with blueberries and sugar. Julia wondered what had happened to "the crunchy stuff" (I guess I like to put streusel on my coffee cake), but really, the cake was good without it.

The only downside to this cake was that I found it to have a bitter aftertaste. I had just read David Lebovitz's article about baking powder and saw that he buys aluminum-free baking powder to avoid that bitterness. I'm pretty sure my Target-brand baking powder has aluminum, but I'm just as sure that the Wal-mart baking powder I had before (can you tell I'm a cheapskate?) also contained aluminum. So I'm guessing the problem may be either that I just opened a fresh, new can or that this recipe calls for 2 teaspoons of baking powder for 1-1/2 cups (sifted) flour. I'm pretty sure that you're not supposed to exceed 1 teaspoon baking powder per cup of flour, and Maida likes you to use light (4 ounces, rather than the standard unsifted 5) cups of flour, so that may be the problem. If I were making this again, I'd use 1-1/2 t. baking powder at most. 

But otherwise, this is a fruity, buttery, not-too-sweet cake that tastes great warm from the oven on a lazy Saturday morning. Give it a try!

Here's the recipe.

East Blue Hill Blueberry Coffee Cake

1/4 c. (2 oz.) butter, room temperature

2 t. baking powder (see note above)

1/2 t. cinnamon

1/4 t. nutmeg

1/4 t. salt

1 t. vanilla

Grated zest of 1 (organic) lemon

3/4 c. (5.25 oz.) sugar (I used a little less than 5 oz.)

1 egg

1-1/2 c. (6 oz.) sifted flour (I used 2 oz. whole wheat)

2/3 c. (5.3 oz.) milk

1-1/2 c. (6 oz.) fresh or frozen blueberries

Additional sugar (raw or crystal sugar is nice here)

Heat the oven to 350. Butter an 8-inch square pan and dust it with wheat germ or bread crumbs. Beat the butter with the baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, vanilla, and lemon zest until soft and fluffy. Add the sugar and beat 2-3 minutes longer. Scrape down and add the egg, beating until well mixed. Stir (or beat at low speed) in half the flour, then the milk, then the rest of the flour. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan. If your blueberries tend to be on the tart side, toss them with a couple of tablespoons of sugar, and then spread them over the batter (I didn't add any sugar to mine, and I thought the sweetness level was perfect). Sprinkle another tablespoonful of sugar over the berries and put the cake in the oven for 45-50 minutes (check after 30 minutes or so). Maida wants you to put the cake under the broiler for a minute to caramelize the berries and sugar, but I thought the cake was fine without that step. Serve warm with coffee for breakfast or with ice cream for dinner.

Blueberry Custard Tart

As things have gotten busy around here, my baking has worked its way into two categories: baking with a deadline (for some event or another) and baking as a reward. This tart was my reward for getting through three crazy days of school meetings and work.

 Now, French meetings (at least the ones I've been to) can be quite pleasant. No one is in a hurry, and everyone talks a lot. There is often food or at least coffee involved. People are civil to one another even in disagreement.

And yet, I found myself sitting in meeting after meeting, tuning out and thinking, "OK, just two more meetings and then I can go home and bake something!"

So this is what I baked. Because I had made my piecrust dough ahead of time, it went together really quickly, but it was still a satisfying baking experience. I was especially pleased with my crust, which for a change didn't shrink on the edges (I baked it blind with a vegetable steamer!).

 When the girls got home, they asked, "What kind of quiche is this?" And they were right--this is an awful lot like a sweet quiche (ooh--breakfast quiche!). It's fruity and creamy, and the crust has a nice crispness. And it was gone in under 24 hours.

Here's the recipe. Treat yourself. 

Blueberry Custard Tart

1 c. (5 oz.) unsifted flour (some whole wheat is nice here)

2 T. (0.9 oz.) sugar

1/4 t. salt

1/2 c. (4 oz.) cold butter, cut into pieces

1 large egg

I made the crust in a food processor, though you could also do it in a mixer or by hand. Put the flour, sugar, and salt in a food processor and pulse until mixed. Pulse in the butter until you have coarse crumbs. Then add the egg and process until it holds together. Turn out onto a piece of waxed/parchment paper (if you're going to store the dough for a while) or a rolling surface (if you're going to work with it now--you don't have to chill this dough). Knead it a bit until it holds together, then either store it for later or roll it out now.

Roll out the dough to fit an 11-inch tart/quiche pan, if you have one; I used a regular old 9-inch pie pan. Crimp the edges better than I did, prick the bottom and sides, and put the crust in the freezer for at least 15 minutes (while you preheat the oven).

Heat the oven to 400. Put a piece of foil or parchment over the crust, and then put in pie weights or beans or spare change or another, smaller pie pan or vegetable steamer--just something that's going to keep the crust from puffing on the bottom and shrinking on the sides. Bake for 10-15 minutes. Then remove the foil/parchment and the weights and bake another 5-10 minutes until golden. Turn the oven down to 325 and set the crust aside while you make the filling.

(Optional: 1/2 cup ground almonds or hazelnuts)

2 cups (8 oz.) fresh or frozen blueberries

2 large eggs + 2 egg yolks (in all honesty, I just now see the additional egg yolks. The tart was fine without them. Use your judgement.)

1/4 c. (1.75 oz.) sugar

1/4 t. cinnamon

1/4 t. nutmeg

1 t. vanilla

1 c. (8 oz.) cream

If you'd like, sprinkle the ground nuts on the bottom of the crust. This was my idea, and I liked it. Spread the blueberries over the nuts. Then whisk together the eggs, sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Whisk in the vanilla and cream. Pour that over the blueberries and put in that 325 oven for about 35 minutes; the custard will no longer jiggle. Serve at room temperature or cold (I liked it better room temperature).

Apricot Strip

There are days when I ask myself, "Why are you baking? You really have other things to do that may just be more important!" And then I bake anyway. I never have an answer to that particular question.

This weekend I had a long editing project to work on. I was getting what seemed to be an email every 10 minutes about a volunteer event on Monday (that I was ostensibly baking for). I needed to plan a new class I would be teaching during the week. And we won't even talk about what the apartment looked like.

I was in a state of stress. I snapped at everyone. And yet I baked. Something complicated, even. And you know what? I don't regret it. Everything got done, and there was some delicious cake at the end of the tunnel.

As you can see, this is a very Maida Heatter recipe in that it involves lots of dried fruit and nuts. The idea behind this recipe is that it's a spin on a Fig Newton, but with an apricot-pineapple-walnut filling within a whole-wheat-honey dough.

The recipe is a bit fussy in that you're supposed to make the dough and the filling the day before you make the actual cake. I didn't have all the ingredients for the filling the night before (which stressed me out no end), so I made it a few hours before, and it was fine.

I was so out of time that I brought the dough and filling over to my in-laws' house and fixed it on the outside table (great light for photography, though!)

 But you see how it goes: Roll out the dough, pile on some filling (you could make a half recipe and it would be enough, honestly), fold it over, move carefully to a cookie sheet, repeat.

The result? It was really good. The filling is something I could (and did) eat with a spoon, though I would put in the orange rind at the end so it doesn't get that cooked taste. The dough really does taste like a Fig Newton, in a good way. And these were popular! My friends Cécile and Gabrielle could pick my cake out of a line-up of desserts other moms made (I think it's the dried fruits and whole wheat flour), and Gabrielle mercilessly promoted the cake and my "magic baking". People seemed to like it a lot, or at least they were polite, and almost all of it disappeared. And when I brought the cake home, Julia pronounced it "so freaking delicious". Can't go wrong with that!

Have I learned anything? I should probably manage my time better. But still, given the situation again (and I probably will be this weekend), I would totally bake. All that other stuff can (probably) wait.

Here's the recipe. Make it when you have time.

Apricot Strip

First, soak your apricots as long as possible, preferably overnight:

12 oz. dried apricots

1-1/2 c. (12 oz.) water (if this is last minute, boiling water may be called for)

Let sit (in a saucepan if you have one you can spare for a while), keeping the apricots under water. Now get to work on the dough.

1/2 c. (4 oz.) butter, room temperature

1 t. baking powder

1/2 t. baking soda

1/2 t. salt

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) brown sugar

1/2 c. (5.5 oz.) honey

1 large egg

1 c. (4 oz.) sifted flour

2 c. (11 oz.) unsifted whole wheat flour

I did this with a food processor, but you could also do it with a mixer. Beat the butter with the baking powder, baking soda, and salt until fluffy. Beat in the brown sugar and honey, and then the egg. Pulse in the two flours (or beat in at low speed). Wrap the dough in waxed or parchment paper and put in the fridge, preferably overnight. Now it's time for the filling.

1 large organic orange

2/3 c. (3 oz.) golden raisins

1 c. (7 oz.) sugar

1 15-16 oz. can crushed pineapple in juice

1 c. (3.5 oz.) walnuts in medium-sized pieces

Take the apricots you soaked last night, and if they're not already in a heavy medium saucepan, put them in one (don't drain them). Finely grate the zest of the orange into a small bowl and set aside. Now peel the orange and cut it into segments. Put the segments and squeeze the juice in with the apricots. Add the raisins, sugar, and pineapple (if you can only find rings, like me, just give them a rough chop) with its juice. Put on the stove over medium heat and bring to a low boil. Then turn down the heat and simmer, uncovered, until all the liquid has evaporated. This takes a long time but only requires occasional stirring, so you can do other things while you wait. When it's thick and jam-like, take it off the stove and let it cool down to room temperature. Then add the walnuts and the reserved grated orange rind. You can either refrigerate the filling for later or use it now. You are ready to assemble the cakes.

Heat the oven to 400. Lightly flour a pastry cloth or other rolling surface. Get the dough out of the fridge and cut it in half (put one half back in the fridge). Roll out half the dough into a rectangle that should theoretically be 15x6 and perfectly straight. If you see the pictures above, you'll know that didn't happen to me--mine was too short and too wide--and it worked fine. As pictured above, spoon some filling down the center of the dough. Remember that if you made the full recipe for filling, you're not going to get even close to using it all, so don't go overboard. Fold one long side over the filling, then the other one. Press shut at the ends. Using a big spatula or a bench scraper, carefully flip the roll onto a sheet of parchment paper (it's helpful to have an extra pair of hands for this). Repeat the process. Maida wants you to shape and bake these one at a time, but I found that two fit easily onto a baking sheet and baked just fine.

Bake these for 15-18 minutes, or until light golden and firm. Carefully transfer to racks to cool. When you're ready to serve these, use a serrated knife to slice them (at a diagonal is nice) at the thickness you like. Maida says each roll should give you 6-9 slices, but I'm pretty sure I got at least 12 from each. Enjoy with a nice cup of tea and some new acquaintances.

Peach Cream Cheese Pie

This weekend we fixed a sort of end-of-summer dinner for Sami's parents at their house. We used our grill to cook some lamb, there was yummy potato salad, and I made this cream cheese pie.

Observant readers will note that this recipe is exactly the same as the blueberry cream cheese pie that I made earlier this summer, only with peaches. I kind of planned it this way, knowing there would still be peaches here in September, but no blueberries. 

It's interesting, though--despite being the same recipe, the different ingredients (even the Philadelphia cream cheese that I can now buy here seems different!) makes it seem like a new dessert. The cinnamon in the crust kind of dominated, to the point where my mother-in-law commented, "Wow, Americans sure like cinnamon in their desserts, don't they?"

Still, the pie was a big hit and had disappeared without a trace by the next morning. I recommend you make it soon, before the peaches of summer are gone.

Here's the recipe.

Peach Cream Cheese Pie

1-1/4 c. (5 oz. or 1 cello pack) graham cracker crumbs (I used digestive biscuits)

1 T. sugar

1 t. cinnamon (consider using less)

1/2 t. nutmeg

1/2 t. ginger

Pinch allspice

6 T. (3 oz.) butter, melted

(alternatively: 1 pkg. zwieback

1/4 c. (1 oz.) powdered sugar

6 T (3 oz.) butter)

Heat the oven to 375. Line a 9-inch pie plate with foil. Stir together the graham cracker crumbs, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice, and butter (if you're using a food processor to make the crumbs, just mix it all in the processor). Pat the crumbs in the foil-lined pan to form an even layer on the bottom and as far up the sides as you can go. Bake for 7 minutes. Let cool to room temperature, then freeze at least 1 hour. When the crust is frozen solid, pull it carefully out of the pan by the foil and then carefully peel the foil off. Return the crust to the pan. Keep it at room temperature while you make the filling (especially if you have a glass pan--you don't want it to crack going from frozen to hot!).

12 oz. cream cheese, room temperature

1 t. vanilla

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) sugar

1/3 c. (2.7 oz.) cream, sour cream, or crème fraîche

2 large eggs

Heat the oven to 350. In a mixer, or in the food processor you just used, beat the cream cheese until smooth. Add the vanilla and sugar and again beat until smooth. Add the cream and then the eggs, one at a time, beating just until smooth but not going for fluffy/airy. Pour the filling in the crust and bake 25 minutes. Let cool to room temperature and then chill at least an hour.

3 large peaches, peeled and thick-sliced

About 1/2 c. (5 oz.) apricot jam

1/4 t. almond extract (I didn't use this because the French put a bit of apricot pit in their jam)

Put the jam in a microwave-safe cup and zap it for about a minute: it should come to a full boil. Strain the jam and add the almond extract. Immediately brush a thin layer on top of the cheese filling. Arrange the peach slices in a decorative spiral (hopefully more decorative than mine) atop the jam, and then brush the peaches with the rest of the jam. Chill at least a few hours or overnight.

Raisin Blueberry Sauce

I like dessert. I guess it's a family thing. When we were in Hawaii this summer, my brother-in-law was blown away by all the sweets we got--pies, cakes, ice cream, you name it. He's not a dessert person. But Alicia told him, "When we were growing up, there was always dessert. Always." I guess I just thought that was normal.

Which brings us to this recipe, which I made because I felt I wanted something for dessert. I don't necessarily feel comfortable making a cake or a whole batch of brownies just for us, but raisin blueberry sauce sounded like a nice homey dessert that would pair well with one of our other favorite homey desserts, riz au lait (rice pudding). And I was right--it's sweet, tart, fruity, refreshing--a really nice counterpoint to the creamy, bland rice pudding.

But when I tasted it, I also thought, "Hmmm...it really seems like I've made this before." And in a way, I have. The big differences here would be that this recipe involves raisins, a touch of cinnamon, and cornstarch right from the beginning. And of course less cornstarch because this is a sauce, not a dessert. I felt a bit like this was a rip-off--the same recipe in two different guises? But no matter: they're both worth making and I suppose they serve different purposes. I would definitely recommend taking 5 minutes and some blueberries (fresh or frozen) to make this sauce, which would be great not just over rice pudding but also with yogurt for breakfast, or pancakes, or pound cake...anything bland and creamy, I would say.

Here's the recipe. Make it in the morning and you'll have dessert in the evening.

Raisin Blueberry Sauce

1/4 c. (1.25 oz.) raisins

1/3 c. (2.3 oz.) sugar

1 T. cornstarch

1/8 t. cinnamon

Pinch salt

2 T. (1 oz.) water

1-1/2 t. (0.25 oz.) lemon juice

2 c. (8 oz.) blueberries

First you want to cook the raisins to soften them a bit. You can either steam them for 10-15 minutes, or you can put them in a microwave-safe bowl, add about an inch of water, and microwave about 2 minutes. Let cool while you make the rest of the sauce.

In a medium saucepan, whisk together the sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon, and salt. Whisk in the water and lemon juice, and then add the blueberries. Put over medium heat and cook, stirring occasionally with a rubber spatula, until the mixture comes to a boil. Turn down the heat to medium-low and let simmer another 2 minutes, again stirring just occasionally so as not to disturb the cornstarch too much. Drain the raisins if necessary and add them. Pour the mixture into a bowl and cool to room temperature; chill. Serve cold over something delicious.

Grand Marnier Strawberry Soufflé

We're back home in France, and there's so much to catch up on--the mail, the shopping, the unpacking, the blog.

This recipe is a little something that I baked up the day before we left for London and then California. I figured that strawberries wouldn't be in season anymore when we got back, so I had better go ahead and make this strawberry dessert. And I had nothing more important to do, like, say, pack or clean the apartment.

The challenge with this recipe was the little aluminum foil collars. I couldn't figure out how they worked, but fortunately, Sami came to my rescue and made them for me after studying Maida's descriptions. As you can see from the lighting, we made these pretty late at night. Really late, since it gets dark around 10:30 in July.

The soufflé itself is really quite simple--just whipped egg whites with strawberry purée folded in. You're also supposed to put a piece of cake or something in each soufflé dish to soak up the extra juices (and Grand Marnier). I used a croissant that I happened to have sitting in the freezer, and that worked fine.

This was a light, pretty pink dessert--not my very favorite because I don't much like cooked strawberries, but still very elegant for the amount of effort it takes. It's also almost not sweet enough--kind of amazing for a Maida dessert.

Here's the recipe. Make it when the strawberries are delicious and you're feeling crafty.

Grand Marnier Strawberry Soufflé

2 lbs. strawberries, washed and hulled (you won't need all of them)

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) + 1 T. sugar

Grand Marnier or Cointreau

1-1/2 t. lemon juice

Ladyfingers, cake, sweet bread, or croissant

7 egg whites

1/8 t. salt

Butter six 5-oz. soufflé dishes (mine were more like 7-8 oz, and they were fine). To make collars for them, call your husband. Or if that fails, tear off six 6-inch lengths of aluminum foil. Fold in half the long way, shiny side out. Butter one half of the foil so that the part that is above the soufflé dish is buttered. Carefully wrap the pieces of foil, buttered side up and in, around the dishes; wrap a piece of twine around each dish and tie it carefully and tightly to make the foil secure (this is best done as a team effort). Sprinkle each dish with about a teaspoon of sugar and do your best to distribute that sugar evenly around the dishes/foil. Set the prepared dishes on a jelly roll or sheet pan and take a deep breath. That was the hardest part of the recipe.

Heat the oven to 400.

Take about 7 of the strawberries and slice them into a small bowl. Add 1 T. sugar and 2 T. Grand Marnier and set aside to macerate.

From the remaining strawberries, measure out about 1-1/2 cups (about 6 oz., I'm guessing). Purée them in a blender or food processor, or mash them with a fork. Then pour them through a strainer. You'll want 1 cup of strawberry purée. Add the lemon juice to that. (If you have leftover strawberries, and you probably will, consider slicing them and macerating them like the ones above. They'll make a nice flavor/temperature contrast to the hot strawberries in the soufflé.)

Cut up your cake or what have you into six cubes "about the size of a domino". Basically, it should easily fit into the bottom of the cup. It's there to soak up extra juice/liquor. Spoon

some strawberries and juice into the cups with the cake. Add a bit of extra liqueur to each cup if you'd like. It's kind of hard to work with the foil collars, but do what you can.

Now put the egg whites and the salt in a large mixing bowl. Put the whisk attachment on the mixer and let it go. When the egg whites have become foamy, start gradually pouring in the 1/2 cup of sugar. Then continue beating until the egg whites hold a stiff peak. Take the bowl out of the mixer and gradually and carefully fold the strawberry purée into the egg whites. When you have a nice pink, fluffy mixture, carefully spoon it into the soufflé dishes. Again, it'll be kind of hard to get it in with the collars and such, but if I could do it, so can you. Put the soufflés in the oven (make sure it's on a low enough rack that the collars don't scrape up against the top of the oven) and bake for 18-20 minutes (mine were done after 16). When 15 minutes have gone by, make sure everyone is waiting for dessert. As soon as the timer rings, spring into action. Take the soufflés out of the oven, cut the string, remove the collars, and carefully transfer the soufflés to plates. Rush them to the table and dig in, perhaps with the leftover sliced strawberries. Enjoy the elegant and guilt-free goodness.