Blueberry Cream Cheese Pie

We've been traveling a lot lately, which would explain the dearth of posts. It's not always easy to get into a kitchen and bake when you're in a vacation rental, or even in someone else's house. Still, I managed to get in one dessert in Livermore before we flew to Hawaii.

We had friends and relatives over for potluck involving grilled chicken and cheesy potatoes and salad, and this cream cheese pie--it's really cheesecake, despite the name--perhaps a less impressive cheesecake, but yummy nonetheless.

I had been to the farmer's market to pick up berries and other goodies the day before, and I wanted to use up as many berries as possible. Therefore, this became Blueberry Cream Cheese Pie with Blackberries and Raspberries. Also, I didn't want to buy currant jelly just for this purpose, so I used seedless marionberry jam, and it worked out great.

The pie was much appreciated and quickly devoured. Sami took a picture of "his" piece of pie, which he wasn't able to eat because he was down with a stomach bug.

I like this recipe a lot--though it needs a lot of down time for cooling and chilling, the actual preparation is really easy, and the results are spectacular.

Here's the recipe. Make it now, while berries are still in season.

Blueberry Cream Cheese Pie

1-1/4 c. (5 oz.) graham cracker crumbs (this turns out to be 1 package of crackers)

1 T. sugar

1 t. cinnamon

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. 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 cups (12 oz.) fresh blueberries (and/or other berries), washed and picked over (and dry)

About 1/2 c. (5 oz.) red currant (or other red fruit) jelly

Put the jelly in a microwave-safe cup and zap it for about a minute: it should come to a full boil. Immediately brush a thin layer on top of the cheese filling. Put the rest in a large bowl to cool and thicken a bit. When the jelly has begun to set a bit, add the blueberries and fold together carefully until the berries are coated. Spread the berries over the pie. If the jelly doesn't cover the pie between the berries, melt some more and coat the pie. Then chill at least a few hours or overnight.

Surprise Cakes

This recipe was third in a series of a baking frenzy. I'm sure my family was wondering what was wrong with me (though they didn't complain), but I had good reasons for all the baking. The reason to make this recipe was a tea party at my aunt's house.

My aunt is in her 80s but doesn't look a day over 70 and is the most charming and gracious person you'll meet. We were lucky enough to get to see her and my three cousins and their children at an impromptu tea party that turned into a cocktail party out on her patio. Her house was once my grandmother's house, so we all share a lot of great memories of family gatherings there.

Maida says that these little cakes are perfect for a tea party, and she's right. They're kind of fussy to make, with a crust and a filling and a topping, but they're not difficult.

I had fun with the fillings: I tried two different kinds of jam, and also tried candied ginger and chocolate chips. I think everyone at the party enjoyed the surprise of not knowing what filling they'd get, and since these are small, many were sampled.

There were scones and cake and finger sandwiches and many delicious things at the tea party, but these cakes were the first to completely disappear. My cousin's husband, Bob, was especially fond of them: "What's in these? Butter, right?" That should not be a surprise.

Here's the recipe. Make them for a tea party or just if you want to create something surprisingly delicious.

Surprise Cakes

3/4 c. (3.75 oz.) unsifted flour (I used some whole wheat)

Pinch salt

1/2 t. baking powder

1/4 c. (1.75 oz.) sugar

1/4 c. (2 oz.) cold butter

1 egg yolk

1/4 t. vanilla

2 T. (1 oz.) milk

[Note: I cut the ingredients here in half because I had more than twice the dough I needed.] In a medium to large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, baking powder, and sugar. Cut in the butter until the mixture looks like coarse crumbs, then stir in the egg, vanilla, and milk. Mix just until the mixture holds together. Wrap in plastic or waxed paper and refrigerate at least an hour.

When you're ready to bake, heat the oven to 425 and butter 24 mini-muffin cups. Cut the dough in half and work with one half at a time, letting the other half wait in the fridge. Roll out the dough to 1/3 inch thick, then cut into 1-1/2 inch circles. You should get 12 circles from each half of the dough. Place a round of dough in each muffin cup, pressing to make a little cup. Maida says not to worry if they're not perfect. (Because she said this, I just rolled the dough into little balls and pressed them into the cups. Worked like a charm.) Now you can fill them:

1/3 c. (about 3.5 oz.) jam or jelly of your choice--Maida recommends currant jelly or orange marmalade; I used blackberry and apricot jam, candied ginger, and chocolate chips

24 walnut halves or a few spoons of finely chopped walnuts

On each round of dough place about 1/2 t. of jam/jelly and a sprinkling of walnuts or a walnut half. Let that wait while you make the top layer.

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

1/2 t. baking powder

1/4 c. (1.75 oz.) sugar

Scant 1/4 t. almond extract

1 large egg

2 T. (0.6 oz.) flour

In the small bowl of an electric mixer (a hand mixer is probably fine for this), beat the butter and baking powder until fluffy. Add the sugar and almond extract and beat another minute. Add the egg and beat for another minute. Add the flour and beat at low speed until smooth.

Put a teaspoonful of batter in each muffin cup. Be conservative--Maida says there's just enough for all 24 cakes.

Bake the pans side by side for 13-15 minutes. They will be golden with darker rims and the tops will spring back when pressed.

Cool in the pans for 5 minutes, then carefully unmold the cakes onto a rack and turn them right side up.

Mocha Chip Chiffon Cake

Things around here are definitely starting to have a winding-down, vacation-is-coming feel to them. Sure, Sami has to go to work every day and I have editing clients with no understanding of academic integrity, but the girls are out of school, the weather is warm at least one out of two days, and I seem to have time to bake.

This cake followed directly on the heels of the ginger cakes, since they disappeared quickly and without a trace. I've had my eye on this recipe for a while--I love the light richness of chiffon cakes, and I love the combination of chocolate and coffee.

So I chopped some chocolate and separated a bunch of eggs and got right to work. Besides the egg separation, chiffon cakes are a breeze. You just mix egg yolks and oil with the dry ingredients...

...until you have a thick, smooth batter, and then you whip the egg whites and fold the whole mess together.

Note my not-very thorough folding together of whites and batter. It didn't seem to be a problem.

Then you hang the cake upside-down on a wine bottle, hoping to heck that it doesn't tip over (note the new kitchen counter!)

And you dig in! Most of this cake went to a graduation event at the girls' school--the parents put on a big soirée with a giant buffet, music, flowers, etc. The cake was not served at the event, but was there to help fuel all the many volunteers who decorated, cut up fruit, cleaned, hauled, etc. Apparently it was well appreciated--at least the container I sent it in came home empty.

But I got to eat a slice or two and definitely recommend this cake. The coffee flavor isn't as pronounced as I would have liked (I might up the instant coffee a bit), but the texture is divine--like angel food but with a bit more oomph. It does go stale kind of fast, so I recommend serving it soon after making it, or at least keeping it well wrapped.

Here's the recipe. Make it when you have time and many mouths to feed.

Mocha Chip Chiffon Cake

2 c. (8 oz.) sifted flour

1-3/4 c. (12.25 oz.) sugar

1 T. powdered instant espresso (maybe a bit more)

1 T. baking powder

1/2 t. salt

1/2 c. (4 oz.) neutral oil (I used grape seed oil; canola is another good choice)

7 large eggs, separated

1/2 c. (4 oz.) Kahlúa or other coffee liqueur

1/4 c. (2 oz.) cold water

2 t. vanilla

3 oz. semisweet chocolate, cut up into small (1/4-inch) pieces (minichips might work here)

1/2 t. cream of tartar

Heat the oven to 325. Get out an angelfood cake pan--that would be a tube pan with a removable bottom, not nonstick. (If you don't have one, you could see my post about improvising one, although I don't necessarily recommend it...)

You'll need two large mixing bowls: one for your mixer and another one. Put the egg whites in the bowl for the mixer and set aside. Into the other large bowl, sift (I don't normally sift, except for these kinds of cakes) the flour, 1-1/4 cups (8.75 oz.) sugar, coffee, baking powder, and salt. Make a well in these dry ingredients and pour into it, in this order, the oil, the egg yolks, the Kahlúa, the water, and the vanilla. Get out a whisk or rubber scraper and mix together the ingredients until smooth. Stir in the chocolate pieces.

Now it's time to deal with the egg whites: add the cream of tartar to them and beat with the whisk attachment until they get quite foamy. Keep the mixer going while you gradually add the remaining 1/2 cup sugar. You want to beat them until quite stiff--Maida says to beat them a minute longer after they become firm. I just got mine to a stiff peak and that seemed to work fine.

Now you need to fold the egg yolk mixture into the egg whites. Do it about a quarter at a time, folding with your biggest rubber scraper and trying not to be too thorough at each addition. When all is mixed, pour into the tube pan and bake for 1 hour 10 minutes (mine was done after 55 minutes) or until the top springs back when lightly pressed. The cake will rise a lot and will probably crack. As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, invert it onto a (preferably empty) bottle to cool completely. When it has cooled, use a long knife or spatula to cut around the sides. When you've freed the cake from the sides of the cake pan, you'll then need to cut it out of the bottom of the pan as well. There will probably be a lot of "cook's portion" left on the cake pan.

Slice the cake with a serrated knife and serve.

Miniature Ginger Cakes

This was a great recipe to find my baking (and eating) chops again. They were easy, they were adorable, and they tasted great.

The recipe lineup is a bit long, but it involves many ingredients that taste great together.

Lots of spices, lots of orange. One surprise spice here was coriander, which I normally tend to associate with savory dishes. It does have a citrusy note to it, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it melded well with the orange and other spices.

As you'll see, I caved and dug out the mini-muffin pans from my in-laws' basement ("Claire! Step over that box and climb on the shelf. Now reach down in the box over there..."). It turns out that I had two. Maida's original recipe is for 4 mini-muffin pans, and while I'm sure that we would happily have eaten 48 mini cakes, I didn't feel like running out and buying more pans.

This is a trick I learned from the King Arthur blog, which I enjoy but rarely bake from (too much product placement...). Anyway, if you let the muffins cool on their sides, they won't get soggy. Of course, you have to grease/butter those muffin pans well to be able to achieve this effect.

So, to describe these little muffins: cooling them like this made them have a nice, crispy exterior and a soft interior (because they're put together more like a cupcake than a muffin. See Bridget's explanation for this distinction). When you bite in, you get mostly chocolate and orange. Each of my family members exclaimed, "It's like a Pim's!" But then you taste the honey, and then the ginger kicks in--and it really does kick in for what might be called a spicy finish. And then you want another one.

Here's the recipe. I made half, but you won't regret making the whole thing. I think it would make 24 regular muffins if you don't have mini-muffin pans.

Miniature Ginger Cakes

1/4 c. (2 oz.) butter, softened

3 t. ginger

1/2 t. coriander

1/2 t. mace (I used nutmeg)

1/2 t. cinnamon

1/2 t. cream of tartar

1/2 t. baking soda

1/4 t. salt

Finely grated rind of 1 orange

3 T. (1.3 oz.) sugar

1/2 c. (6.5 oz.) honey

2 large eggs

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

2 T. (1 oz.) orange juice

1/4 c. (2 oz.) milk

3 oz. candied ginger, chopped into small pieces (smaller than 1/4-inch dice)

Heat the oven to 325. Grease/butter 4 mini-muffin pans (I put a dot of butter in each, put them in the preheating oven for a minute, then used a brush to butter them).

In a medium bowl, cream the butter with the ginger, coriander, mace/nutmeg, cinnamon, cream of tartar, baking soda, salt, and orange rind until fluffy. Add the sugar and then the honey and beat until smooth. Add the eggs one at a time and beat well after each. Take a spoonful of flour away from the total amount and add it to the chopped ginger, tossing well to coat it. Then stir half the remaining flour into the batter, then the orange juice and milk, and then the other half of the flour. Do all this on low speed, just until incorporated. Stir in the ginger by hand.

Carefully spoon the batter into the muffin cups--if you're like me, you may not have quite enough to fill all of them. Bake for 20-22 minutes (mine were done in less than 15) or until they are brown and the tops spring back when you touch them. Let them cool on a rack (on their sides as pictured, if possible). While they cool, make the glaze:

1 t. instant coffee

3 oz. semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped

1 oz. unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped

1 t. shortening (I used butter)

1/4 c. (2 oz.) water, boiling

In a microwave-safe bowl mix the coffee, chocolates, and shortening. Pour the boiling water over and stir until almost melted. I had to give mine another 20 seconds in the microwave. Use an electric mixer to beat until very smooth (I didn't do this but wonder if my glaze might have been nicer had I done so). Either dip the little cakes into the chocolate or use a small knife to spread it on. I dipped first until the glaze got a bit low.

Let the muffins cool enough for the glaze to set and then dig in and get ready for a flavor explosion.

Cranberry Topping

Once upon a time, when I was quite young, we went to my grandmother's house for a meal and had strawberry cheesecake for dessert. I enjoyed the cheesecake a lot, but on the way home, or shortly thereafter, I was violently ill. Even though logic tells me that the cheesecake had nothing to do with my illness, I don't think I've had strawberry cheesecake again to this day.

Why am I telling this lovely story after a picture of beautiful berries and other yummy things? You guessed it. I'm sure this is a fabulous sauce and that you should make it. But I will not ever be able to look at it again.

As you see, I made it with currants, which are in season and beautiful right now. I have a bag of cranberries languishing in my freezer, but I just couldn't bring myself to use them when there were currants.

I hope to give this another try when I've convinced myself that it's safe--maybe with cranberries then. But in the meantime, I'm posting the recipe in hopes that you'll have better luck with it.

So here's the recipe. Enjoy it in good health.

Cranberry Topping

1/2 c. (4 oz.) butter

1 c. (7 oz.) light brown sugar

3 c. (12 oz.) cranberries, washed

1/2 c. (4 oz.) Grand Marnier (I used half Cointreau and half Cognac)

1/2 c. (4 oz.) cream

Heat the butter and brown sugar in a 2-quart saucepan (that has a cover) over medium heat until the butter and sugar melt. Add the cranberries and booze; cover and cook until the mixture comes to a boil. Turn the heat down to just a simmer and cook until the berries start to pop. Turn off the heat and stir in the cream. Remove from the heat and let cool. Serve warm over ice cream or something else bland and creamy--I had it with rice pudding.

Sycamore Cookies (and a hot fudge lagniappe)

The evening I made these cookies, we were sitting around the table eating hot fudge sundaes (with Maida's World's Best Hot Fudge Sauce, which I'll post as a bonus recipe below), when Claire asked me, "What are you going to do when you finish all the recipes for the blog?" I didn't tell her that although I've finished several categories (to wit: layer cakes, chocolate cakes, sweet breads, yeast pastries, fresh fruit, ice cream, and candy), I've got a lot of recipes to go (just did the calculation: 46 of 195, to be precise). What I told her was, "Look, I've got shelves and shelves of other dessert cookbooks collecting dust. I'm looking forward to baking from them."

Julia (groan), "You're killing me, Mama! You bake so much more than you used to!"

It's true. I used to bake at most once a week, unless there was a special occasion. Now it's twice a week--and I create my own occasions.

Yep, baking has become a way of life around here. As I work at my actual paid job, as I wander the streets of Saint Germain, my thoughts are often on the next treat I am going to make from the Maida book, and when I might give myself permission to make it.

These cookies were my little reward to myself for finishing a translation project that had taken most of the week. I guess that's kind of pathetic: "OK, Maria, five more pages and you can hit the kitchen." But it works for me.

A few technical notes: In a fit of hubris, I once again neglected to read the recipe. That, and the fact that my sheet pan is not the same size as a jelly roll pan, made for this funky free-form cookie thing. I suppose I could have taken a ruler and shoved things around to make it prettier, but I guess I don't live up to Maida in her love of square edges.

But still, these were delicious--like really good, crunchy peanut butter cookies. I wish I had gotten to eat more than two before they all mysteriously disappeared (Julia took most of them to her internship to share with her co-workers). And since there was no actual peanut butter in them, I didn't have to worry about the funky added fat in peanut butter or about raiding our precious peanut butter supply. Yes, I understand that's a logical contradiction. But you're dealing with someone who is forcing herself to bake every single recipe in a book...

Here's the recipe. Treat yourself.

Sycamore Cookies

1 c. (5 oz.) salted peanuts

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

1/4 c. baking soda

1/2 t. cinnamon

1 t. vanilla

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

1 egg, beaten (note: you're going to divide up the egg, so in this case you'll want to beat it)

1 c. (4 oz.) sifted flour

Heat the oven to 325. Butter a 10.5 x 15.5-inch jelly roll pan. If you have freezer space, put the pan in the freezer--apparently that helps you spread the dough. Chop the peanuts fine, but not powdery fine, in a food processor (Maida suggests 10 pulses); put the peanuts in a bowl and set aside. In the bowl of the food processor, process the butter, baking soda, cinnamon, and vanilla until creamy and smooth. Pulse in the sugar, again until smooth and creamy. Then add just 2 T. of the egg, not the whole thing (I neglected to do this), the flour, and HALF the chopped peanuts (yep, didn't read that, either).

Now get your pan out of the freezer and put spoonfuls of dough all over it. Use the bottom of a spoon (I used parchment paper, but the dough kind of stuck to it) to spread out and flatten the dough. The dough may not cover the whole pan, and you'll need to make peace with that idea. Brush the dough with the egg that you remembered to reserve and sprinkle it with the peanuts that you were also smart enough to reserve. Bake for 25 minutes (careful--mine were done at about 15) or until "nicely but lightly browned". Let cool for 5 minutes, then cut into 16 pieces and remove to a rack to cool (or to a cutting board to cut into smaller pieces). Store airtight, and make sure you get some before they're gone.

World's Best Hot Fudge Sauce

This is a recipe that makes me think of my mother. She loved it and made it often. She gave jars away as gifts. My Book of Chocolate Desserts opens to this page, and you see the calculations for doubling the recipe (usually necessary) in her handwriting. Sweet memories.

1/2 c. (4 oz.) cream

3 T. (1.5 oz.) butter

1/3 c. (2.3 oz.) sugar

1/3 c. (2.3 oz.) brown sugar

Pinch salt

1/2 c. (1.5 oz.) sifted Dutch-process cocoa

(optional: 1/2 t. vanilla or 1 T. liqueur/booze of your choice)

Put the cream and butter in a small saucepan over medium-high heat and bring to a boil. Add the sugars and salt and boil a few minutes, stirring regularly, until the sugar has melted, it's reduced a bit, and the bubbles start getting a bit bigger. Remove from the heat and whisk in the cocoa and the optional flavoring. Serve over ice cream. Try to restrain yourself from eating it all.

Blueberries and Cream

Sunday was Father's Day, and we decided to do something nice for my father-in-law. Sure, he can be grouchy and controlling, but he means well. So we bought a lovely bottle of Bordeaux and brought over a bunch of food we thought he might enjoy eating. Sami went out into the cold rain (yes, it's June here--why do you ask?) and grilled a whole fish and some sausages (insurance against fish failure), and we had this potato salad (made with green beans instead of asparagus) and blueberries and cream.

And yes, I used frozen blueberries. France isn't really a blueberry kind of place. In season, you can get fabulous cherries and raspberries and apricots and currants...the list goes on. But the blueberries usually look sad and cost a fortune. These babies, from the frozen food store everyone loves to hate, are delicious and cost for a big bag what a tiny basket would cost at the market. And hey, I'm cooking them anyway.

This recipe is a keeper. It's like my favorite German dessert, Rote Grütze, which tends to involve lots of mixed red fruits: raspberries, cherries, currants, and the like. But the blueberry focus was nice here, and it seems so light and healthy and antioxidant-filled that it would be a shame not to put a giant dollop of vanilla-infused cream on top. So we went for it.

My father-in-law seemed very pleased with all that we offered him, so it was a good evening. You too will be happy to have made this very simple and delicious dessert.

Here's the recipe. Make someone happy.

Blueberries and Cream

2 T. (1 oz.) water

3 T. (1.5 oz.) lemon juice

1/2 c. (3.5 oz.) sugar--I used 3 oz. raw sugar, since I know the frozen berries are pretty sweet

Pinch salt

1 lb. blueberries, frozen or fresh

1/4 c. (2 oz.) cold water (you could use juice of your choice if you've got some lying around)

2 T. (0.5 oz.) cornstarch

About 1 c. (8 oz.) crème fraîche or sour cream

1-1/2 T. sugar

1 t. vanilla

Put the water, lemon juice, water, and sugar in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Stir until the sugar dissolves and the mixture begins to come to a boil. Add the berries, bring the mixture back to a gentle boil, and then turn down the heat and let them simmer for 5 minutes. In the meantime, mix the cold water and cornstarch to dissolve. Stir it into the berry mixture and cook over low heat, stirring gently and occasionally, for a few minutes to cook out the cornstarch taste. Don't stir too much and don't let the mixture come to a boil. Transfer to a bowl, cover, and refrigerate it for a few hours or overnight. While the mixture chills, at some point mix together the cream, sugar, and vanilla--all amounts are to taste. Serve the blueberries in bowls or wineglasses with cream on top.