Prune and Apricot Turnovers

I seem to have hit a sort of phase as I reach the end of this cookbook: the pastry filled with dried fruit phase. There was the apricot strip, there's these turnovers, and I have some raisin-filled cookies coming up. I guess there is an American slant to all these pastries: I'm guessing that the pioneers and such subsisted on dried fruit most of the year. But I'm not convinced they had lovely dried apricots and prunes like these.

No, this seems to be more an Eastern European import--it has a lot in common with hamentaschen and other pastry pockets.

Above all, it's a fun little project (Maida spends more time reminiscing about decorating turnovers with her mother than to actually describing how these taste) that gives you really good results, assuming you like sweet-tart dried fruit conserve in a flaky pastry.

Look at this pastry, people. I almost never get it right, so I'm really proud. Do you see the little pieces of butter showing through? That's what makes the pastry flaky and delicious.
A note: As with the apricot strip, the filling recipe made twice as much as I needed. Given the cost of dried fruit, I have halved the filling recipe here. Otherwise, you're going to have to make some more pastry.

Here's the recipe.

Prune and Apricot Turnovers

You'll need to make the dough and filling well in advance of when you'd like to bake and serve these. Before that, you'll want to soak the fruit--preferably overnight.

Filling:

3 oz. dried apricots

3 oz. prunes

3/4 c. (6 oz.) water

1/4 c. (1.75 oz.) sugar

Pinch salt

1/2 t. vanilla (not in the additional recipe, but I like it)

(2 T. brandy/rum)

(1/4 c. chopped walnuts)

Soak the dried apricots and prunes in the water overnight. Then put the fruit and the water in a small saucepan over medium-high heat and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Turn down the heat to medium-low and cook, stirring, until most of the liquid has evaporated. Take off the heat and add the sugar, salt, and vanilla. Let cool completely, then add, if you so choose (and I recommend it!), the booze and the walnuts. While the filling is cooling, make the pastry:

Pastry:

2 c. (8 oz.) sifted flour (some whole wheat is good here)

1 T. sugar

1/2 t. salt

3/4 c. (6 oz.) cold butter (I used 5 oz. and it was perfect. Then again, French butter tends to have a higher fat content than American butter)

1 t. cider vinegar

2-3 T. cold water

Put the flour, sugar, and salt in the bowl of a food processor and give it a spin to mix. Cut up the butter in cubes and scatter them over the flour. Pulse until the butter is in pieces no larger than a pea. Sprinkle the vinegar and about 2 T. of the water over and pulse until the dough just begins to come together (you may need to add a bit more)--see the picture above. Turn the dough out onto a piece of parchment or waxed paper and refrigerate for at least an hour.

When you're ready to bake, heat the oven to 425. Work with half the dough at a time. Roll it out into a fairly large square--it should be thin, but not paper thin: it's got to hold some fairly substantial filling. Trim the edges to make a "perfect" square and then cut the square into 4 squares. Put some water in a small bowl, wet your fingertips, and wet two perpendicular edges of the square. Put just a teaspoon or two of filling in the center of the pastry square and then fold the dry corner of the pastry over the wet corner. Crimp with a fork. Repeat. If you want, you can cut out fancy shapes with your pastry trimmings and apply them with more water. Or you can use them to make cinnamon swirls, as you see I did (roll up pastry with cinnamon sugar, cut, bake). Prick holes in the pastry with the same fork you used for crimping.

Maida says to brush these with an egg wash (1 egg yolk, 1 T. water) before you bake them. I didn't.

Put the turnovers on a piece of parchment on a cookie sheet and bake for 30 minutes, or until golden brown. These are especially good when they're still warm. Maida says they can be frozen unbaked or baked and then re-baked or reheated. I believe it, but I haven't tried it--tiny freezer.

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).

Rancho Santa Fe Lemon Tart

A few months ago, I was talking with my friends Gabrielle and Gabriela about the blog--I'm sure it's because I brought some goodie or other to a party. Gabrielle told me about a poem she and her writing group in Prague had once written on the subject of food and wondered if I'd like to use it for the blog. I believe now is the perfect occasion:

Tarte au citron

 (Gabrielle Grieb, Angeliki Freckman, Helen Pletts, Romit Berger, Ariane Synovitz, Clare Wigfall, Emma Whitton, and Jackie Chicknas)

The blade approaches the golden lunar landscape and with its sharp tip penetrates the virgin surface, free falling through the yolk-yellow succulence until it hits the crisp layer of crust.

A firework of sinful flavour explodes, zesty, fresh, tangy and bright, like the bite of a clear winter’s day.

A silky, celestial smoothness slips slowly, leaving a satisfaction that only such pure intensity of taste can offer.

All that remains is an empty plate, a memory and the lingering taste of heaven on the tongue.

Who wouldn't want to eat lemon tart after that? Here's the recipe:

Rancho Santa Fe Lemon Tart

1 egg yolk

1 T. ice water

1 T. + 1 t. whipping cream

1/2 t. vanilla

1/4 t. almond extract

1-1/2 c. (6 oz.) sifted flour

1/4 t. salt

1-1/2 T. sugar

1/2 c. (4 oz.) butter, cold 

You'll want to make the pastry a few hours or even the day before. Whisk together in a measuring cup or other container with a spout the egg yolk, water, cream, vanilla, and almond extract. Refrigerate while you get your dry ingredients together. In a food processor (or in a bowl with a pastry cutter), whisk together the flour, salt, and sugar. Cut the butter into 8-10 pieces and then cut the butter into the flour, processing or cutting until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Get the liquids out of the fridge and gradually add them while processing until the mixture holds together (I needed just a bit more liquid). Gather the mixture into a ball on a piece of waxed or parchment paper and refrigerate 2-24 hours.

When you're ready to roll out the crust, get out a tart pan. (Maida wants you to have an 11-inch black metal quiche pan. I had an 8-inch glass pan and didn't feel like shopping for a new one, so I had leftover filling, which I baked in custard cups along with the tart. Yum.) Anyway, on a floured surface, roll out the pie pastry as thin as you can, carefully transfer it to the tart pan, and trim and flute to shape the edges. Prick holes in the bottom and in the sides. If you have leftover dough, you can bake it as cookies (I had "pastry dough gremlins" come eat the dough in my kitchen). Chill the crust for at least 30 minutes.

When the crust has chilled, heat the oven to 400. Line the crust with foil and weight it with pie weights or dried beans or (my favorite) loose change. Bake 20 minutes (10 were enough for me), remove the foil and weights (careful!), and bake another 5 minutes or until the crust starts to turn golden. Take out the crust and turn the oven down to 250 (that would be 120 Celsius). Now go ahead and make the filling.

1-1/2 c. (12 oz.) whipping cream

7 egg yolks (you're now about 4 egg whites shy of an angel food cake!)

1 T. cornstarch

3/4 c. (5.25 oz.) sugar

2/3-3/4 c. (5.28-6 oz.) lemon juice (I used about 5 lemons. Your mileage may vary.)


Measure the cream into a glass measuring cup or other microwave-safe container and zap until it's just ready to boil--probably around 2 minutes. In the meantime, whisk the egg yolks in a somewhat larger glass measuring cup (a 4-cup was fine for me--you want to be able to pour the filling into the crust); add the cornstarch and sugar and whisk some more just until it's incorporated. Gradually whisk in the lemon juice, and then gradually add the hot cream. Strain the mixture into the baked crust. Maida suggests pouring some of it into the crust, then putting the pie in the oven and pouring as much more as possible in at that point. That's probably a good idea. If you have extra filling, you can bake it in custard cups, as I mentioned above. Bake for 1 hour: the filling will no longer jiggle. Let stand until completely cool, and then glaze the tart:


1/2 c. (5 oz.) apricot jam
1 T. (0.5 oz.) Cognac

Heat the jam (30 seconds in the microwave is usually plenty) and strain it. Add the Cognac and brush this all over the tart. Refrigerate the tart and serve cold, with berries or not, with whipped cream or not (we did berries and no cream and it was indeed a taste of heaven). Feel satisfied.

Chocolate Mousse Pie

In preparation for vacation, I have been powering through some Maida Heatter recipes, and we seem to be eating our fair share of yummy stuff. This week I've already made this pie and the last (sniff!) brownie on the rotation, and I have everything ready to go to make a soufflé. Apparently I've gone over the edge.

But let's talk about this pie. This one is kind of a first for me, since I almost never make the same thing twice. I have notes in my book that I have made this pie before, probably in college. Chocolate mousse pie was huge in the 80s. And Natalie made this pie for Thanksgiving dinner a couple of years ago, but we never got around to writing about it. So I felt, er, compelled to make this again, just so I could have pictures.

But since this is, after all, chocolate mousse pie, I decided that I should be reasonable and make just a half recipe. And the portions in that recipe seem so much more reasonable: 3 ounces of chocolate, 1 egg, half a cup of cream...OK, chocolate mousse is never reasonable. But it's good, especially with a crunchy crumb crust. And boozy whipped cream.

Let's just say that there were five of us (Julia's friend Alice, who has become a die-hard "Marie K. Hardy" (Maida Heatter) fan, was over) and that this reasonably sized pie disappeared in an unreasonably short span of time.

Here's the recipe. Make half a recipe or make the whole recipe, but make it. And remember to make it the day before you want to eat it!

Chocolate Mousse Pie

1-1/2 c. (6 oz.) chocolate wafer or Oreo crumbs

1 t. instant coffee powder

6 T. (3 oz.) melted butter

Heat the oven to 375. Line a 9-inch pie plate with aluminum foil. Mix together the cookie crumbs, coffee, and butter. Dump into the pie plate and use a measuring cup or your knuckles to press the crumbs on the bottom and part way up the sides of the pie plate. Bake for 10 minutes. Cool, then freeze for at least an hour until completely firm. Take the crust out by the foil, peel off the foil, and then return the crust to the pan. You can now store the crust in the refrigerator or freezer while you make the filling (or until you're ready to use it).

6 oz. good semisweet chocolate (it's the main flavor here--quality matters)

3 large eggs, 2 of which are separated (if you want to halve the recipe, I think one egg is enough--use a bit more cream to compensate if you like)

3 T. (1.5 oz.) dark rum

1 c. (8 oz.) cream

Break up the chocolate and melt it your favorite way--one minute in the microwave does it for me. Let cool a bit. In a large bowl, whisk together the one whole egg and the two egg yolks. In a medium bowl, beat the egg whites until they hold a firm shape. Now whisk the chocolate and the rum into the egg yolk mixture. Pour the beaten egg whites on top of that mixture (ideally to one side) but don't mix it yet. In the same bowl you beat the egg whites in, whip the cream, also until firm but not too stiff. Pour the whipped cream in next to the egg whites on top of the chocolate. Now carefully fold that all together. (This technique is not Maida-approved, but it worked well for me and saved me a lot of dishes.) Pour the mousse over the crust and let it chill overnight. When you're ready to eat some chocolate pie, you'll first want to whip some cream:

1-1/2 c. (12 oz.) whipping cream

3 T. (0.75 oz.) powdered sugar

2 T. (1 oz.) rum

1/2 t. vanilla

Grated or shaved chocolate

Pour the whipping cream, sugar, rum, and vanilla into a chilled bowl and whip it with chilled beaters until firm but not too stiff. Get the pie out of the refrigerator and top it with the cream. You can make it flat or swirly, however you'd like. Top with the shaved chocolate and serve. Enjoy the moment.

Salted Almond Chocolate Pie

I'm not sure what to say about this pie except that it involves chocolate and almonds and marshmallows--kind of a Rocky Road pie. It's also very easy to make and even easier to eat.

I wasn't able to take a lot of pictures of the process because the camera was off being used for "prom" pictures. Frozen chocolate pie can be nice to have around when one thinks too hard about the teenaged life forms in the house beginning to look like adults.

Here's the recipe. Make this if you love rocky road.

Salted Almond Chocolate Pie

6 oz. chocolate wafer cookies, crushed into crumbs

6 T. (3 oz.) melted butter

Heat the oven to 300. Line a 9-inch pie plate with aluminum foil. Mix together the cookies and butter and carefully press into the bottom and up the sides of the pan--mine wouldn't go far up the sides of the pan. Bake for about 15 minutes. Let cool (Maida wants you to turn off the oven and let it cool in there for a while, but I took it out and let it cool on the counter, and it was fine) to room temperature and then freeze for at least an hour. Carefully remove the crust with the foil, then peel off the foil and return the crust to the pan. Return the pan to the freezer while you make the filling:

20 large marshmallows (5 oz.; I used mini marshmallows, but they didn't melt very well)

1/2 c. (4 oz.) light cream or half-and-half

8 oz. milk chocolate (use a good kind), broken into pieces

1/3 c. (1.3 oz.) roasted salted almonds, coarsely chopped (I used roasted almonds and added a bit of fleur de sel, because, la-di-da)

1 c. (8 oz.) whipping cream

Use scissors to cut up 16 (4 oz.) of the marshmallows into a large microwave-safe bowl. Add the cream and microwave a minute or two until the marshmallows are melted. Add the chocolate and stir. If the chocolate doesn't melt entirely, give it 30 seconds in the microwave, but be careful because milk chocolate burns easily. Add the nuts and the 4 remaining marshmallows, cut into small pieces. Let sit for a while to cool and thicken. When the mixture is cool and thick, put the whipping cream in a bowl and whip it until it holds a shape. Carefully fold the cream into the chocolate--I did it in two additions.

Take the crust out of the freezer and pour the filling in. Smooth the top, cover with plastic, and freeze at least 3 hours. We got impatient and tried it before then and it was good, but it's better when it's frozen a bit firmer. It doesn't get really hard. Enjoy the taste of summer and childhood.

Marbleized Chiffon Pie

This pie was an adventure in many ways: an adventure in patience, in dishwashing, in pie contests. It was even an adventure for my poor old cookbook, which got a bit of a bath in melted butter...

In fact, I didn't really make this pie. I was on my way home from the store to make it when I saw Julia and her friend Alice coming back as well. The picnic they had planned was cut short due to bad weather and they were at loose ends. So I suggested they bake. "Here's the recipe--go for it!"

Their first obstacle: the crumb crust. Maida has two pages of directions on making the perfect crumb crust, and while it does in fact turn out perfect, it's rather a fussy process. I had to intervene a few times and "translate" the instructions into "regular" English. The girls did an excellent job, especially since I had improvised a crust based on shortbread cookies rather than the peanut butter cookies Maida calls for--I was bringing the pie to a "nut-free" event.

Apparently the pie is based on a recipe that used to be on the big Hershey bar. "Why did they stop?" I'll tell you why: it involves custard and gelatin and egg whites and whipped cream and melted chocolate. You mess up any of those steps and your pie takes a dive.

Also, have you counted the number of bowls that involves? I didn't have that many in my tiny kitchen and had to do some improvisation.

The girls were troupers through all this, though. They scalded milk until it had "wrinkled granny skin"; they dissolved gelatin (agar-agar for the vegetarian) and took the custard's temperature and whipped egg whites and carefully melted chocolate.

And finally they carefully folded in the melted chocolate and put the pie in the fridge for the next day: the "Pies and Squres" event.

The event was sponsored by the American section of the international school the girls attend--it involved square dancing and a pie contest. Julia and I decided to attend with another mom: we both enjoy pie and we both enjoy square dancing. What could go wrong?

Well, it turned out that this event was primarily for primary school students. Julia was a good sport about it and we had some fun klutzing our way through some primitive dance moves. We also tried many delicious pies. I'm pretty sure we didn't vote for our own, and I'm pretty sure that the Oreo cheesecake won. Julia blamed it on the less sophisticated taste of the primary-schoolers. But I think this pie just isn't all that.

It is light and fluffy, and that texture is nicely offset by the crumb crust. But it's really sweet and deadly rich--I feel a bit ill just thinking about that. And the agar/gelatin didn't set up as well as I might have hoped--gelatin custard desserts (Bavarian creams) are one of the trickiest things around to get right, I believe. So while Julia and her friend probably learned some really good baking skills, I hope that the next time I send them baking, it will give them a better payoff and me fewer dishes to wash. Oh, and I want to win that pie contest next year.

Here's the recipe. If you like rich and sweet and have lots of bowls in your kitchen, this is the one for you.

Marbleized Chiffon Pie

10 oz. cookies of your choice: Maida wants you to make your own peanut butter cookies. I used shortbread. Maybe chocolate wafers or pecan sandies?

6 T. (3 oz.) butter, melted

Heat the oven to 325. Line a deep 9-inch pie plate with aluminum foil. Crush the cookies with a food processor or rolling pin and mix with the butter. Carefully press into the pan with your fingers or the bottom of a measuring cup. Bake for 10 minutes, then turn off the oven, open the oven door, and let the crust cool in the oven. Put it in the freezer until it is fully chilled. Then remove the crust with the foil, carefully peel off the foil, and put the crust back in the pan. Keep chilling until you're ready to use it.

8 oz. (good) milk chocolate

1/4 c. (2 oz) cold water

1 envelope gelatin

2/3 c. (5.3 oz.) milk

2 large eggs, separated

5 T. (2.1 oz.) sugar

1/2 t. vanilla

1 c. (8 oz.) whipping cream

Pinch salt

Melt the chocolate carefully, in the microwave (30-second intervals) or in a double boiler. Set aside to cool a bit. Soften the gelatin in the cold water. Scald the milk in a small saucepan or in the microwave. If you've scalded it in the saucepan, pour it back into the measuring cup for a bit. In a small saucepan, whisk the egg yolks with 3 T. sugar until thick and pale. Gradually add the hot milk to the egg yolks. Place over medium-low heat and cook, stirring and scraping with the whisk or a rubber spatula, until the custard is thickened and the temperature has reached 180 degrees. Take off the heat and add the gelatin; stir until that has melted. Then add the vanilla, pour (better: strain) the custard into a medium ("rather large") mixing bowl and set aside for a bit.

In another bowl, whip the cream until it holds a shape but isn't too stiff. In yet another bowl, with clean beaters, whip the egg whites with a pinch of salt until they begin to hold a shape. Gradually beat in the remaining 2 T. sugar and beat until they hold a firm shape.

OK, now you need another, very large bowl. Put ice and water in it, then set the bowl with the custard into that. Stir the custard until it cools and begins to thicken. Maida would now like you to fold half of the custard into the cream and half into the egg whites and then fold it all together. What we did was pour the custard onto the cream, poured the egg whites atop that, and then carefully folded that all together. However you do it, be careful to keep as much air in the mixture as possible. Now pour in the chocolate and give it just two or three turns: you should still see streaks. Pour that into the chilled crust. Mine all fit into the crust, but if yours doesn't, Maida recommends chilling the filling in the crust for a bit and then piling more atop. Let chill at least 3-4 hours. Spend that time washing dishes.

1 c. (8 oz.) whipping cream

2 T. sugar--powdered or regular

1/2 t. vanilla

More milk chocolate

Whip together the cream, sugar, and vanilla. Spread or pipe atop the chiffon filling. With a vegetable peeler, scrape chocolate curls on top of the cream. Serve as soon as you can, preferably after a light meal and a marathon.

Savannah Banana Pie

Julia has definitely been following this journey through American Desserts with a great deal of interest. She has been reading through the cookbook, helping me with my photography, asking with regularity what the next recipe might be, and, of course, taste-testing enthusiastically but critically.

So when her birthday rolled around next week, she knew exactly what she wanted her "cake" to be: Savannah Banana Pie. And strangely enough, that pie turned out to be on my baking schedule. Funny how that works...

This pie is quite the concoction. It involves bananas and caramel and whipped cream and toffee. It's sweet and rich and creamy and crunchy. Perfect for the swarm of teenaged girls who came over for pizza and birthday pie before heading out to Paris for a day of laser tag.

I cheated a bit on this pie--instead of cooking condensed milk, I bought a jar of "confiture de lait", which is basically dulce de leche. If you can find dulce de leche, you can do the same.

But I also had to do some extra cooking: I couldn't find Almond Roca or an equivalent at the store. Sometimes I can find Daim's, a Scandinavian toffee candy, at the store, but not that day. So I made the Mahogany Toffee from Rose's Christmas Cookies. Kind of a pain, but very yummy.

This pie disappeared within minutes of serving. I didn't actually even get a piece of it--just a bite and then a few tastes while cleaning up. It does offer a nice contrast of textures, but it is quite sweet. I was busy and/or lazy and impatient and so the pie did not get its proper chilling time. It therefore was quite soupy. Don't be like me if you make this pie.

Here's the recipe. Make it for someone sweet (or someone who loves sweets!) on a festive occasion.

Savannah Banana Pie

8 oz. Amaretti or any other almond macaroon-type cookies

6 T. (3 oz.) butter, melted

Heat the oven to 375. Line a 9-inch pie plate with aluminum foil. Pound or process the amaretti into crumbs; stir in the butter. Dump into the pie plate and use a measuring cup to press the crumbs on the bottom and part way up the sides of the pie plate. Bake for 10 minutes. Cool, then freeze for at least an hour until completely firm. Take the crust out by the foil, peel off the foil, and then return the crust to the pan.

1 14-oz. can sweetened condensed milk (or dulce de leche)

3-4 ripe bananas--I used about 3-1/2

If you have dulce de leche, you can relax. If not, consider doing this step even before you make the crust. Heat the oven to 425. Get out a Pyrex pie plate and a large baking dish that can contain it--probably a jelly roll pan. Pour the milk into the pan and cover it tightly with foil. Put the pie pan in the larger pan and put in the oven. Pour water in the larger pan so that it comes about 1/2 inch up the sides. Bake for 1 hour 20 minutes, adding more water if necessary. The milk should caramelize. Take the pie plate out of the oven and let it cool completely.

Slice the bananas into the crust and make them into a smooth layer. Drizzle or dab on the dulce de leche to cover the bananas. Let chill for 4-8 hours.

3 oz. Almond Roca or other toffee candy

1-1/2 c. (12 0z.) whipping cream (I think 1 cup would be plenty)

2 T. powdered sugar

1/2 t. vanilla

Chop the toffee into fairly small pieces--Maida says thin slices--and set aside. Whip the cream with the sugar and vanilla. Mound the cream around the banana filling, leaving the center exposed. Sprinkle the toffee on top of the cream. Refrigerate and serve cold. Burn off with a brisk game of laser tag.

Maple Pecan Pie

Ah, Thanksgiving in France. It's not the same in so many ways: no holiday, of course, no rush to the malls, no rush to the grocery store before it closes. People don't celebrate it, but they know about it: my butcher, upon my ordering the turkey, remarked, "Ah, yes, it's like Christmas for you guys, right?" The produce man I bought my sweet potatoes from said something similar and asked me how I was going to cook them. French people do get the idea of a holiday centered around food. They call it Sunday.

So we scheduled a small Thanksgiving feast, just another family and us (only 6 chairs in the apartment) for Friday evening. French eating times mean that I didn't have to put the turkey in the oven until 5:00 (and even then, it was too soon). So I had plenty of time in the morning to make pie.

Our Thanksgiving pie routine usually goes something like: 1 regular pumpkin, 1 fancy pumpkin, 1 chocolate, 2 "others" (normally one fruit and one pecan). This year I trimmed it down to three: 1 fancy pumpkin (made from fresh pumpkin), 1 chocolate, 1 maple-pecan from Maida Heatter. Julia was horrified that I had only made three pies for nine people. My argument that that meant 1/3 of a pie per person meant nothing to her.

Fortunately for this pie, pecans turn out to be easy to find here. There's a guy who sells dried fruit, nuts, dried beans, olives, etc. at the market, and I'm one of his best customers. I always enjoy going to see him because he's an outrageous flirt. "Would you like a bag for this, Madame, or shall I deliver it? I can't deliver it during the day, because I'm busy, but I can come by at night..." Anyway, he has delicious pecans. That will help me preserve my Trader Joe's stash.

I have a confession to make about this pie: it's supposed to be six individual tarts. I have tart pans and everything, but I couldn't see putting out six tarts for 9 people. Also, I had a lot more cooking to do. The proportions were perfect for a 9-inch pie plate, so although individual tarts would be charming, this worked out nicely.

This was a delicious pie. It didn't have a lot of maple flavor necessarily, probably because the rum came shining through, but it wasn't tooth-achingly sweet either, which was delightful. This was my favorite of the three pies (I made a sour cream pumpkin pie and found the sour cream too pronounced; chocolate pie is much too much for me after a large dinner).

And yes, there was enough pie. So much so that we were able to send a whole pie plate full to soccer the next day and still have a bunch in the fridge. In fact, if Julia hadn't put dibs on the last piece of pecan, I might be going to get myself a piece right now...

Here's the recipe. Make it when you're feeling festive.

Maple Pecan Pie

1-3/4 c. +2 T. (7.5 oz.) flour

1/4 t. salt

8 T. (4 oz.) butter

3 egg yolks

1-1/2 T. ice water

I think it's always best to make pie pastry the night before you want to use it--it needs to chill at least 4 hours.

Get out your food processor. I didn't use mine, and it was a mistake. Put in the flour and salt and buzz that briefly to mix. Put in the butter, cut into pieces, and pulse that until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs--the butter can be pretty fine here. Add the egg yolks and water and process until the mixture just holds together. Wrap in waxed paper and refrigerate.

When you're ready to start baking, roll out the dough on a floured surface until it makes an 11-inch circle. Carefully place into a 9-inch pie plate and crimp the edges. Refrigerate this while you make the filling.

2 large eggs

2/3 c. (7 oz.) maple syrup

2/3 c. (4.5 oz.) brown sugar

3/4 t. vanilla

1-1/2 T. (0.75 oz.) melted butter

2 t. (or more) dark rum (or bourbon or brandy)

2 c. (7 oz.) toasted pecan halves

Heat the oven to 350. In a bowl, whisk together the eggs, maple syrup, brown sugar, vanilla, butter, and booze. Now get out the prepared pie plate and pour the pecan halves in. If you want, you can try for a pattern, but that might be gilding the lily. Now pour the egg mixture over that. Pretty darned easy, right?

Bake the pie for about 45 minutes, or until the crust is golden brown and the filling is just a little bit jiggly but not runny. Let cool. You can serve this warm, room temperature, or cold. But I think you should serve it with boozy whipped cream:

1 c. whipping cream

1-2 T. powdered sugar

1/2 t. vanilla

1 T. booze (preferably the same kind you used in the pie)

Use an electric mixer to whip this until it forms soft peaks.

Now sit down and feel thankful for elastic-waist pants.

Frozen Peanut Butter Pie

Since I made fruit desserts all summer, I now find myself faced with having to catch up on rich, chocolate-y desserts in the book. Each of the four desserts in this cycle (Alicia designed a pattern for us to get through the book without too much repetition) involves chocolate. Lots of chocolate. Even the pie entry this time around involves chocolate. Don't get me wrong: I love chocolate. I eat it every day. My map of Paris is covered with dots that represent chocolate shops. Still.

When I saw "Frozen Peanut Butter Pie," I immediately thought, "I need some kids to feed this to. No self-respecting French adult is going to eat this!" So I encouraged Julia to invite some friends over. She found that somewhat irritating, but agreed in the end.

The crust was the best part, I thought. I had to improvise because I didn't have enough "chocolate wafers". Galettes Bretons worked very nicely as a stand-in.

Now on to the dramatic part of the recipe: I decided to finally pull the Kitchenaid out and use it. I've been fretting about this for at least a month: can my beloved and precious mixer handle European power, even with the giant transformer that now sits under my kitchen counter? I've had anxiety dreams of strangers coming over to bake, turning on the mixer, and having it explode in a puff of smoke. Let me just say that this happened to my Mac in Germany once. It was not pretty.

So I turned the mixer on with the cream cheese and peanut butter. So far, so good. Then "pop!" Big spark. Maria in meltdown mode.

Fortunately, Sami was home. I was not about to turn that mixer on for the first time without backup! So I took a deep breath and asked him to please come take a look. Long story short--my husband is a genius and my mixer is fully functional. Some nuts (not the edible kind) had come loose and caused a short. Whew. I can make cheesecake next week!

So back to the pie. Julia had gone to a party involving waffles last week and had bought two cans of whipped cream for it, which got sent right back home with her. So I decided that since I was serving this pie to the girls who loved this whipped cream, I could just use it (an entire can!) instead of trying to whip French cream, which has been rather a chore in the past (French liquid cream has 30% fat instead of the 40% you get in the states). I cut out the powdered sugar in the recipe to compensate for the sweetness of the ready-made cream.

So here's the pie--just a sliver! It's very rich and very sweet, with really just a hint of peanut butter flavor. The 6 girls barely got through half of it. Julia's friends seemed to really like it, but Julia herself said it wasn't her favorite. It's been sitting in the freezer feeling lonely, I must say.

So here's the recipe. Find some hungry teenagers to serve it to!

Frozen Peanut Butter Pie

6 oz. chocolate wafers (use the Nabisco kind if you can find them; Oreos usually work as well. I used some "Sablés au chocolat," which were very nice)

1/4 c. (1 oz.) salted peanuts

6 T. (3 oz.) butter, melted

Heat the oven to 350. Line a 9-inch pie plate with foil. Put your cookies and peanuts in the food processor and pulse until you have fine crumbs. Pour in the butter and pulse that until you have a homogenous mixture. Press the crumbs into the pie plate, going as far up the sides as you can (I couldn't get mine to go very far up). Bake for 7 minutes and let cool. [By the way, this is an excellent time to get your 8-oz. block of cream cheese out of the fridge to come to room temperature.] Put the crust in the freezer for at least 4 hours. Then grab the foil and pull the crust out of the pan. Carefully peel the foil off the crust and return the crust to the pan. Believe me, you'll be happy you did all this when it comes to cutting the pie. Return the crust to the freezer and make the filling.

8 oz. milk chocolate (I used 6 oz. milk and 2 oz. dark)

8 oz. cream cheese, room temperature

1/2 c. (4.6 oz.) smooth peanut butter

3/4 c. (6 oz.) milk

1 c. (3.5 oz.) sifted powdered sugar

1 c. whipping cream

Break up the chocolate and melt it very carefully on very low heat on the stove or by 20-second intervals in the microwave. In your (fully functional) mixer, beat the cream cheese and peanut butter until very smooth. Add the chocolate and beat until that is smooth. On low speed gradually beat in the milk, scraping the sides of the bowl as necessary. Add the sugar and then take the bowl off the mixer. In another bowl, whip the cream until it holds a shape. Fold the whipped cream into the chocolate mixture. Now pour the mixture on top of the frozen crust. If it doesn't fit, put what does fit in the freezer and let it settle for about 10 minutes before adding more. Repeat if necessary (mine fit). Freeze until firm (probably at least 4 hours); cover with plastic wrap. Let sit in the refrigerator or even out on the counter for about 10-15 minutes before serving--it makes the pie a lot easier to serve and eat. Enjoy with a sweet tooth.

Apricot Pie

This will be a short post with no photography, but it's urgent because apricot season is so short. I've written in previous posts about my childhood with apricots. Mom would take home buckets of "jam cots" (the bruised, bird-pecked, and overripe fruit) and would sometimes make pie from them as well. She would thicken the apricots with tapioca and the pie was fabulous with ice cream--sweet-tart and gooey with the tapioca.

So I was very excited about finally getting to make this pie: it comes early in the book, but we hadn't had apricot season yet, and I was not about to spend $25 on questionable Chilean apricots. So we bided our time. Now the apricots are coming in from Spain and southern France, and it's time to make pie! I'm sure the Blenheims are ready in California as well.

This is a pretty simple pie, and if the fruit is decent (mine was just decent, definitely not the apricots of my childhood), the pie will be yummy. I forgot the almond extract and liqueur, was not as careful about mixing the tapioca/sugar mix into the apricots as I might have, and didn't let the fruit sit long enough with the tapioca (we were in a big hurry to get the pie in the oven), but it still turned out great. We brought it to a backyard barbecue party involving Australians, Canadians, US Americans, and French people, and it was a hit! The children got to it before the adults did, and the pie looked pretty sad once we got to it, but everyone seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.

Here's the recipe. Hurry, make this before the season is over!

Fresh Apricot Pie

Pastry for a two-crust 9-inch pie: if your regular recipe does not involve sugar, add a couple of tablespoons.
2.5 lbs. apricots
1 T. Amaretto or other liqueur or orange juice
1/2 t. almond extract
3/4 c. (5.2 oz.) sugar
1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) brown sugar
3 T. + 1 t. (1.3 oz.) tapioca
(about 1/4 c. ground almonds)

To top the pie:
Milk
Sugar

Heat the oven to 500. Get out a 9-inch pie plate and a large baking sheet lined with foil. Put the baking sheet in the oven. Cut the apricots in half, remove the pits, and put in a large mixing bowl. Sprinkle the Amaretto and almond extract over. Very thoroughly mix together the sugars and tapioca and then very carefully mix that in with the apricots to avoid lumps. Let the fruit stand while you roll out the pastry. Roll out the bottom crust and line the pie plate with it, leaving a 1/4–inch overhang. If you have room in your fridge, roll out the top crust, put it on a cookie sheet, and refrigerate it until you’re ready. Now Maida is very concerned that the cut side of the fruit never touch the pastry. Mom and Aunt Fran never worried about that, but OK. (If you have some, put in a thin layer of ground almonds on the bottom crust. They will soak up some of the juice and add nice flavor.) So put in a layer of apricots cut side up, and then put in a second layer cut side down. If you need to put in a third layer, that should also be cut-side down. Pour the tapioca/sugar/apricot juice mixture carefully over the fruit. Now, if you still need to, roll out the top crust. Put it over the fruit. Seal the two crusts together and flute them. Brush the top crust with a bit of milk and sprinkle it with sugar. Cut some slits in the top crust and put the pie on the foil-lined sheet in the oven. Immediately reduce the temperature to 450 and bake for 10 minutes. After that, reduce the oven temperature to 375 and give it another 35-40 minutes or until the crust is nice and golden and the fruit is all bubbly. Yum. Cool the pie completely, then refrigerate and serve cold with ice cream. Feel happy that summer’s just about here.

Date-Pecan Pie: Size matters!

It's the beginning of June, but up until now, it's been pretty chilly. Last weekend I made chili and cornbread, and it seemed just right for the weather. And so this pecan pie, which seems so out of season, actually wasn't.

I had to make this pie when Julia was visiting, since she is quite the date fiend. Claire is the one who, like her aunt, objects to all things dried fruit, so I had to time this pie carefully. Cool weather+ Julia visiting=date pecan pie.

I always forget two things about pecan pie: 1) I really like it, even though it's awfully sweet; 2) it's really easy. 5 minutes of mixing and you're done. I added an extra step to Maida's recipe that took about 10 minutes longer: I browned the butter. Very worthwhile, in my opinion. Browned butter adds a really lovely depth of flavor and boosts the toasty taste of the pecans.

Do you get the impression that I liked this pie? I really did. Look at all those pecans! Julia's still adding them, though the pie shell is just about full.

Which leads me to the point about size: I neglected to note that this recipe is written for a 9-inch extra deep pie plate. You'll see, however, that I have a pitiful little aluminum pie plate. Did I scale down the recipe? I did not. Below you see the result...

Can't contain the spillage!! Not good. We made little extra shields out of foil and ended up baking a ramekin of crustless pecan pie, which was very much appreciated by Claire (because it had no dates and no crust).

The weather warmed up enough that we could dine al fresco. Note that the pie is very dark, even a bit burned, on top. I recommend checking it and putting foil on top if it seems to be getting too dark too soon.

Out of focus pie with boozy whipped cream. Mmmmmm.....

Verdict: This is really good pie. The dates add a bit of texture but are not too distracting. If you buy the really good Medjool dates from, say, Whole Foods, they will be soft and melty. If you buy the crappy Dromedary dates, you have only yourself to blame.

Julia is still dreaming of the pie; I had to send the remaining half (minus a small piece for myself) out the door with some students who had happened to come by at an opportune time.

Here's the recipe. Make this when the weather is cool and your sweet tooth is working on overdrive.

Date Pecan Pie
1 9-inch EXTRA-DEEP pie shell, baked (try this recipe or this one. I used Maida's recipe, but it wasn't super awesome. I think I worked it too much.)
8 oz. really good dates
4 oz. (1 stick) butter
4 large eggs
1 scant c. (6.5 oz) sugar
1 T. flour
1/8 t. salt
1 t. vanilla
1 c. (11.5 oz.) corn or golden syrup
6 oz. (1-1/2 c.) pecan halves (toasted pieces worked fine)

Heat the oven to 350. Get out a large baking sheet and cover it with aluminum foil. Put your baked EXTRA-DEEP pie shell on the baking sheet. Use scissors to cut up your dates. If you got the good kind, you’ll need to pit them as you go, but it’s worth the sticky fingers.
Put the butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Let it melt, then watch it carefully as it bubbles and complains; take it off the stove when it starts to smell really good and the solids begin to brown. You could just melt the butter in the microwave, but this extra step is totally worth it, I think.
Now, in a medium bowl, beat the eggs until they are very foamy. Add the sugar, flour, salt, and vanilla and beat to mix well. Add the butter (it can still be hot if you beat constantly while you add it) and the syrup. Add the dates by hand. Now (and this is weird) get out a slotted spoon and take the dates back out of the liquid and put them in the pie crust (did you remember to use your extra-deep pie pan? Good!). Now sprinkle the pecans over the dates. Finally, pour the remaining liquid over all. It will be a lot of stuff. Bake for 45 minutes or until the top is very well browned (cover it with foil if it looks too brown) but the center is still jiggly. Cool on a rack and then refrigerate. Serve very cold with boozy whipped cream:

1 c. cream
1-1/2 T. maple syrup or honey
1-1/2 T. rum or bourbon

Whip. Enjoy.