Everybody Eats When They Come to My House

2011-12-15T12:11:00.000-08:00

Gluten-Free Pumpkin Spice Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting

These yummy, moist cupcakes are also dairy-free and you can always make the cream cheese frosting with goat cream cheese for people who can't eat cow dairy. Feel free to play around with spice combos and amounts- some folks prefer more allspice, some like a more nutmeggy treat. (I've included instructions for prepping the pumpkin at the bottom of the recipe- freshly roasted pumpkin really makes a difference!)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and fill pan(s) with 18 cupcake liners.

1 1/2 cups brown sugar
1 3/4 cups brown rice flour
1/2 cup arrowroot or white rice flour
2 TBS potato starch
2 1/4 tsp baking powder
2 1/4 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp cloves
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ginger
1 tsp salt
3 large to extra large eggs (not jumbo)
1 1/2 cups pumpkin (roasted and pureed is best)*
1/2 cup almond milk
3/4 cup canola oil
1 TBS vanilla extract

In a smallish bowl, combine the pumpkin and almond milk. In another small bowl or liquid measuring cup, combine the oil, eggs, and vanilla.

In a large bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients. Add the oil mixture to the dry ingredients and then mix in the pumpkin and almond milk.

Fill each cupcake three-quarters full and bake for 15 - 20 minutes or until the tops spring back to the touch and/or a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Cream Cheese Frosting
In a large bowl or in the bowl of an electric mixer, combine 8 ounces of cream cheese with 1/2 to one stick of butter and one cup of powdered sugar. Add a teaspoon of vanilla and continue to mix until fluffy. Add a twist or two of freshly ground nutmeg if desired.

Roasting Pumpkin/Winter Squash for Various Recipes
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Cut a sugar pie pumpkin, red or green kabocha, butternut, or acorn squash in half and scrape out the seeds. Brush the cut halves with olive oil and place, cut side down, on a rimmed baking sheet, jelly roll pan, or pyrex dish. Bake for one hour or so, until the juices are bubbling in the pan and the rinds are soft to the touch.

Let cool and then scrape the flesh from the rinds. Puree in blender of food processor. Freezes well so you can make a big batch ahead of time and then make cupcakes, breads, soups and of course, pie.

2011-09-27T20:11:00.000-07:00

Tonight, or should I say, tomorrow morning, a new chapter begins. At around 2:30 am, I will toss off the covers and totter into the bathroom. In all likelihood, I'll look in the mirror and grimace at my stupid o'clock in the morning tired and groggy, sleep-lined face and wonder WTF I was thinking when I signed up to be a baking intern.

But perhaps not. Only time will tell. I'm hoping to fall asleep at 9 tonight. The red wine isn't helping thus far and I'm wired as a Ren & Stimpy short. Perhaps it was that extra dark and delicious Theo salted almond dark chocolate bar I nommed at the office this afternoon. The Big W is snoozing on the couch and I'm updating my blog and thinking of all I could accomplish if I just stay the course and skip sleep altogether.

My pies (A&B) for the Oakland Museum's Seed Circus Pie Contest - A was the winner

How did I get here? I won a pie contest and chatted up one of the judges. It turns out we have a lot in common- a freakish lot- and now I am interning and also working the farmer's market, selling plump and scrumptious scones, galettes and the like. I am seriously grateful to her for letting me tag along. I try not to appear too overexcited about our adventures, but I'm having a lot of fun and my brain is exploding with ideas.

Soooo.... here's to waking before the sun and baking away the morning. More when I return...

Tasty Collard Greens with Brown Butter

2011-02-12T15:08:00.000-08:00

I have fond childhood memories of my dad's friend's collard greens dish. Salty and heavily leaden with the fat of some ham hocks or bacon, they were delicious alongside fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and the occasional hushpuppy. But those fond memories have stayed memories and I don't think I've tasted collards in years.

...Until they appeared my RiverDog Farm veggie box. I found a simple recipe and served them to the fam that night. There was nothing left in the bowl after we were through, which says a lot considering this was a new kind of green veggie gracing our table.

Here's how I prepared the collards. This is adapted from a few different recipes, primarily from Deborah Madison's Braised Collards in Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.

Take one large bunch of fresh organic collard greens and strip the leafy green parts from the stems. If you like, you can then chop the greens into bite-sized strips or shred them with your hands. Rinse thoroughly and plunge into a pot of boiling salted water. Let the greens cook for 5 minutes and then put them in a bowl with about half a cup of the cooking water.

Toss two to three tablespoons of salted butter into a pot or large frying pan. Over medium heat, cook the butter until it turns brown. Make sure the butter doesn't brown too quickly- stir it frequently and make sure it doesn't burn or smoke.

Once the butter is browned, toss in the greens and the half cup of reserved cooking water. Cook, stirring occasionally, for about 10 minutes and then add salt to taste. Any salt will do, but kosher sea salt is extra tasty here.

Cook for up to 20 minutes more, tasting along the way for tenderness and flavor. Feel free to add red pepper flakes for an extra kick, but I like mine plain and buttery!

Bring on the Blackberries!

2010-08-11T00:02:00.000-07:00

I love berries of all shapes, sizes, colors, and flavors. Blackberries, the plump, tartly sweet ones, are impossible for me to resist. Especially when I find them growing in my back yard. Rose's blackberry pie is the most straightforward pie I've come across in my Pie and Pastry Bible adventures.

Filling: The filling consists of fresh blackberries, mixed with mixed with sugar, cornstarch and lemon. I love me some zesty lemony goodness, so I added 3 tablespoons of zest, as opposed to the 2 tsp called for. There's no macerating and cooking down of juices, no cooking of half the berries. Aside from her pie crust construction instructions, this pie is a snap.

Crust: Rose recommends that you go with her "Basic Flaky Pie Crust" for this one, so with the abovementioned snap-icity in mind, I decided to get creative with crust decorations.

Verdict: This is a juicy, bubbly-over-type pie that comes out of the oven looking like a mess of berries exploded. ...Which is to say it looks so very tasty. Served with vanilla ice cream, its deep purple deliciousness is a thing of beauty.

Baking in a Different Kitchen, or Brava Blueberries!

2010-07-23T15:27:00.000-07:00

With my aunt in town and blueberry season in full swing, I decided it was high time for another blueberry pie- Rose's "Open-faced Fresh Blueberry Pie" to be exact.

It's always a bit of a challenge working in someone else's kitchen, even when said kitchen belongs to your parents. The rolling pin is different, the flour is different, the oven is different (in this case, more persnickety). But working in this particular kitchen actually means more fancy gadgets and dedicated baking implements. I was just about the roll out the crust, when my mom whisked out the fancy wooden board with all sorts of circular outlines etched on its surface. I'm sure there's a technical name for this thing, but I can't think of it- pie board, maybe? But it was pretty sweet.

Crust: While this pie is a thing of beauty, it is also pretty dang easy to make. The crust can be made ahead of time and prebaked because it doesn't need to be cooked once it's filled. Having said that, I tend toward the school of thought that believes in the absolute necessity of freshness. There's nothing worse than something looking delectable and tasting of freezer or fridge or languishing-for-24-hours-on-your-counter.

But I digress. This crust was another of the "basic flaky pie crust" ilk. And I have to admit, I'm wandering further and further from the lengthy and didactic Pieble directions requiring me to chill, chill, and rechill. I mean, Rose, what are you saying? That I need to chill? Hmmm.... she may have a point there. A few of you might agree.

Filling: As you can guess from the name, this pie uses mostly fresh blueberries and because it's open-faced, you really want to find the tastiest, most gorgeous bluebs out there. This is not the time to break out that bag of frozen berries you've been saving for a rainy day in March when you feel the need to tempt your mental taste buds with a hint of sunnier times to come. Save those for a covered pie, or better yet- a smoothie. The only technical note I would add is that it could have done with more berries. I've been finding this to be the case with a number of Rose's pies. Sometimes, the look a little empty. I am using the recommended pie plate size, so who knows? The flavor combo is often spot-on so maybe it's a taste thing and not an issue of filling the crust to the brim. I just think filling the crust to the brim often looks better.

Verdict: Wow! (With this pie, I'm like the guy from Sex in the City who sees Charlotte's enormous Park Ave apartment and can't stop saying, "Wow!") This pie is a thing of beauty. As difficult as it may be, listen to Rose and let it sit for at least two hours before you dive in. If you can practice this much patience, as we managed to do (full disclosure: we were eating a fab dinner), when you finally slice into it, the pie will not fall apart and you'll have really picture-perfect slices of pie adorning your plates. Whipped cream is needed, of course!

"Pieble Study II":Double Pie Day with Montana

2010-06-28T11:04:00.000-07:00

Although I've just posted about the blueberry pie, we did bake the pies semi-simultaneously. So much fun to be in the kitchen with a pie-partner! I'm hoping others will jump on the bandwagon and join me. Please do!

And on to the "Nectarine-Raspberry Pie." The nectarines smelled good in the store, but were not as tasty as I'd hoped. As I write this, three weeks later, I've just breakfasted on an intensely flavored nectarine and wished that it had graced my pie. Not to say this pie wasn't good, but first things first...

Crust: For this one, Rose recommended the "Flaky Cream Cheese Pie Crust and I wish I had gone with the lattice on this one too. It would have really tied the whole pie together, showing off the gorgeous contrast of yellow and red.

Filling: I know I usually go whole hog or overboard with the use of lemony goodness, but on this one I wish I had used less than was called for- one tbs lemon juice and one tbs zest. It was a tad lemony, esp with the already tart raspberries. I think I'd reduce the lemon by half or- egads!- omit?

Verdict: This pie is intense! I love me some nectarine pie- James McNair's peach pie recipe made with nectarines has yielded one of my top five all-time faves- but this one was a bit muc, esp on the heels of the blueberry goddess. I would definitely serve this with unsweetened or very lightly sweetened freshly whipped cream. The interesting thing was that it mellowed quite a bit the next day.

All in all, not sure if nectarines and raspberries- two things I adore- are my favorite once combined.

All pies considered, this was a good pie. I'm just exceedingly picky and I'm only getting worse baking all of these pies all the time. The best part about this pie was the grand time had baking with a pal. Besos, Susanita!

"Pieble Study": Double Pie Day with Montana

2010-06-28T10:42:00.000-07:00

Yeehaw! Pie is always more fun when made with friends. My friend, and fabulous artist, Susana Montana, (check out her web site)
joined me for a day of baking and catching up. We tackled the "Fresh Blueberry Pie" and "Nectarine Raspberry Pie."

The pug instantly took a liking to Susana, which made for some hindered movement. But we had fruit to wash, dough to assemble, and mixtures to uhm... mix.

Crust: We went with the "Basic Flaky Pie Crust" that Rose recommended, but decided that this pie was such a beaut, it deserved a lattice top to show off the berries. For some reason, I find making a lattice top easier than just sticking a full top on. I'm more comfortable hiding the ends of the strips in the side of the bottom crust but an entire top is not my forte.

First, I weave the strips, leaving the ends draped over the edges, then I trim each end and tuck it on the inside of the crust edge.

Filling: Making this pie when blueberries are fully in season is the way to go. Blueberries have been amazing this year. We've eaten tons plain, with yogurt, with whipped cream, and in pie, of course. Not a big fan of the blueberry muffin, but I imagine that someone, somewhere, makes a fantastic one.

In any case, we used locally grown, organic blueberries that I picked up at the farmer's market. Dude, sweet! We added three tsp of lemon zest instead of two because I like the zest, plus I tend to add more fruit than Rose calls for.

Verdict: Oh, sweet nectar of heaven! This pie is probably the most beautiful, most delicious of any I've ever tasted. It was like summer in a pie dish. We ran some over to our neighbors, who promptly ran out to buy some vanilla ice cream to go with.

More Cowbell! Or Rather, More Strawberry...

2010-06-24T22:32:00.000-07:00

Sticking with the strawberry thang, next in the book is the "Open-Faced Double Strawberry Pie."

This pie has a luscious top layer of fresh strawberries resting in a bed of cooked strawberries thickened with sugar and cornstarch, all of which is hiding a white chocolate, sour cream, cream cheese bottom layer.

Crust: Basic flaky for this one. I used the single 9 inch recipe, but I think I'll use the larger one in the future, even for single-crusters. I must be rolling my crust out thicker or something, but I barely had enough to cover the pie plate. Granted, I do like me a generous layer of crust, so that works.

Filling: When making the cream cheese layer, Rose says to melt the white chocolate and then let it cool completely, but when I did this, it solidified again and was a tad clumpy. I managed to mostly beat the chocolate into submission while mixing it with the sour cream and cream cheese, but it was still a little bumpy. Next time, I think I'll just stir it a while, until it cools enough to not melt the creamies its mixed with.

Rose also says to put the fresh strawberries for the top layer on whole, with tips pointing up. I found that this left quite a few gaps, especially given the variegated sizes of said berries. After a crisis of conscience, I chose to slice the berries in half and arrange them, adding more strawbs than called for, but nicely filling out the shell and covering the underlayers from prying eyes, the better to surprise with its deliciousness.

Man, was this good!

Verdict: A fabulous keeper- take it to a party or drop it off at the local fire station and you will be remembered.

Belated Pie Update: Glazed Strawberry Pie

2010-06-09T11:40:00.000-07:00

It seems my body does not like to sit still. Writing speeches in a cube all day+not the best chair=sad back city. On the other hand: Baking pie (dipping and kneading and rolling and slicing and mixing)-fighting off the pie dough-stealing hordes=happy back. So last week was spent partially frozen and forced to lie down for a while. Trixie enjoyed it but I was feeling a bit trapped and restless.

So Rose's "Glazed Strawberry Pie" was actually made a few weeks ago and I just haven't had the chance to write about it.

Actually, I was going to try to almost stick with the order of things in the Pie & Pastry Bible, but the lovely red rhubarb I'd purchased did not last long enough in my fridge. And now, sadly, it seems that rhubarb season is over and I will have to wait until next year to make the "Light Custard Rhubarb Pie." Dang!

This strawberry pie is fairly simple, in the Rose realm of pies, anyway. It's an open-faced beauty with a fruit juice glaze.

Crust: Since it was a simpler pie, I got a little jiggy wit it and went with the mascarpone cheese crust despite the fact that Rose recommends the "Basic Flaky Pie Crust with this particular pie. Ooh-la-la! Or should I say, Brava! It was lovely: delicate, crumbly, but not as hugely flaky as the cream cheese crust. Yum!

While assembling this pie, I suddenly realized that my lovely assistant was not trying to sit on my feet or sneak pie dough bits. Like children, it is often NOT a good sign if everything is strangely quiet. I found Trixie slightly tangled in our front door window shade and unable to escape. She was just standing there, patiently waiting for me to find and free her.

Filling: Continuing with the jigginicity, I tossed in a cup of fresh organic (my pies are mostly organic, with a few exceptions, like Clover butter) raspberries. I like to add raspberries to many of my strawberry concoctions because I love the sharp tang of the raspberries against the softer sweetness of the strawbs. This pie is interesting because you make a syrupy-gelatiny kind of glaze for the fruit. Actually, it seems like most of Rose's recipes require some sort of additional syrup mix-a-lot twist. This one consisted of cran-raspberry juice concentrate (try to avoid the ones with high fructose corn syrup- Cascadian Farms makes a nice organic frozen juice concentrate), cornstarch, and sugar. If you try this one, make sure not to overcook this glaze or it will become a tad to gelatinous. As usual, I was on the phone while cooking, and didn't give the sauce the attention it desired. No harm done, but I believe I'll stir more and cook less next time so it will be easier to spread over the fruit.

Verdict: This is a fairly simple pie with a lovely taste- IF- and yes, that's a huge if, you use really beautiful, exploding with sweetness, fresh strawberries. The strawbs really stand out here, so don't pick this pie as a use for those berries languishing in the fridge. The more fantastic the strawberries, the better the pie as they aren't cooked.

Storing: I usually leave my pies out of the fridge, but this one needs to be chilled or it will get green and fuzzy in no time. It's def best the same day, anyway.

Interlude: How Do You Deal with Loss?

2010-06-02T10:03:00.000-07:00

This morning I drifted on a breeze carrying my grandmother's voice. I could hear her perfectly and listened to the sound of her voice- not exactly what she was saying but how she sounded as she spoke. How the words spun out of her mouth in that uniquely Mid-Massachusetts/Scottish something she had.

When I awoke, I found I couldn't get out of bed. My back hurt so much, I couldn't even roll over. And then I remembered my Grandmother rubbing my back once, when it was sore while I was visiting. And I felt frozen with pain. I miss her so much and feel her loss every day. I think of the things I wish I could tell her and the things she'd understand about me. About the way I am. But she's gone. And why does that hurt so much? Why are we wired to love and then grieve losing that love? And why does it get harder? The older you get, the more you lose. How can we make sense of this loss and find the half-filled glass of life without seeing what's spilling out of that glass?

If anyone has any tips to share, I'd sure appreciate them.

And now, as my back begins to loosen up and I can move, I've once again lost the sound of my grandmother's voice. It's in my heart, but I can't quite seem to catch it in the air.

I love you Granny, wherever you are.

"Apple Crumb Pie," aka Sharing the Love at Teatime Pie

2010-05-23T16:14:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm getting more comfortable with Rose and her processes, I've begun to deviate from the directions...

a) Because, let's be honest, I just don't have time once a week to devote an entire day to baking. [There's work, family, and the occasional pug rescue.........

b) I like to experiment and I've never been good at following rules.

I guess that last part could have been b and c, but I think experimenting and not following rules make a nice combo. Clearly, Trixie likes to experiment as well.

In any case, I decided to follow the order of the pies in the Pie and Pastry Bible, so the next one up was "Apple Crumb Pie." Plus, Rose's description sounded delish: "A thick layer of caramelized apples is set in a crisp crust topped with a crunchy streusel." Who doesn't love streusel?

Quick note, for those with inquiring minds: Streusel is German for something that is scattered or sprinkled.

This pie was easier to tackle than the previous two- no real top crust and I relaxed on the entire process, eschewing multiple chillings of the bowl, the butter, etc. (I do always chill the assembled pie crust dough before rolling out and again before baking.)

Filling: Once again with the macerating of the apples and the cooking down of the juices and butter. I used Gala apples and decided this will probably be my last apple pie until fall because the apples are losing their yummy crispness and getting a tad mushy. I also threw caution to the wind and added a cup of fresh frozen cranberries that had been languishing in my freezer partially because I didn't want to waste them and partially because I didn't quite have enough apples.

Topping: The streusel was easy to make and I love a bit of buttery crunchy cinnamony goodness. The addition of walnuts was a nice touch.

Crust: I added 1 cup of whole wheat pastry flour we picked up at the historic Bale Grist Mill in St. Helena. (Great place to visit and learn about the origins of sayings like "grist for the mill," "fair to middling," and "nose to the grindstone.") The whole wheat gave a nice body to the crust. The only downside was that I had been unhappy with the overbrowned crust I wound up with in making the Open-faced Designer Apple Pie so I opted not to prebake this time and regretted that decision when the bottom crust was a tad uncooked. Lesson learned.

Verdict: This was a really good pie. The whole wheat crust was still flaky and delicious and the apples kept their shape without staying crunchy. I brought the pie to work for afternoon tea and got rave reviews. Although what's not to love about homemade when you're not expecting it? I tried to get everyone to be brutally honest but they were too busy eating. Perhaps I'm a bit too critical. I thought it rocked, but would have preferred more flavorful apples (my fault) and a better cooked bottom crust (again, my fault). So, Rose, this is an awesome pie! MmmWah!

Further Pie Adventures- Getting All Fancy

2010-05-12T21:19:00.000-07:00

I threw myself into the next pie in the book, which turned out to be "Open-faced Designer Apple Pie." While I was in the middle of the multiple processes required yet again, I started questioning my reasons for embarking on this project.

Boredom? Check.

A desperate need to do my own thing? Check.

A creative outlet and something to do that doesn't require sitting on my ass in front of a computer? Check. Well, other than this part of the process, anyway. And this is the part that I have a hard time with. I hate sitting on my butt all day, staring at a screen.

Mid-life crisis and yearning for a new career? Checkity-check-check-check.

And yet, this is not really providing the intellectual stimulation I require in life. Not sure what is at the moment. I'm dreaming of PhDs and sudden windfalls of cash to pay for school.

So I'm doing this because I like building things with my hands and I love feeding people and making their bellies happy. Plus, there's really nothing like the satisfaction one feels when pulling a lovely bubbling pie out of the oven. And eating it while it's still warm.

Filling: As with the previous pie, the apples are macerated and then the juice is cooked down with butter. Wicked and delicious but not entirely necessary, IMHO. Because this is an open-face pie, and there's no crispy topping to hide the apples, you are supposed to cut the apples fairly think- 1/8 inch thick- and carefully arrange them in concentric circles. Now, I happened to be talking to my aunt (love you, Emily!) at the time, and just couldn't be bothered with the super thin slicing. I took a fair amount of care with the apple arranging, however. When you don't slice the apples very thin, they don't cooperate with bending to fit in perfect concentric circles, but there you are. I managed two layers of apples, then glazed them with strained apricot jam after baking.

Crust: Just like the previous apple pie, this one had the cream cheese crust. Unlike the previous pie, this one is supposed to be pre-baked- for a total of 25-30 minutes at 425 degrees. That's wayyyy longer than my dear James McNair says in his pie book. (My personal pie bible of many years.) A niggle of concern itched in some distant corner of my brain, but I vowed to follow Rose's directions. This pie is eminently beautiful thanks to the dual details of carefully arranged slices of apple and leaf cutouts arranged along the crust edge. I dutifully cut out 26 leaves from the rolled-out second piece of pastry and made little veins in each leaf.

Verdict: After a total baking time of one hour, 10 minutes (on the low end of her recommended cooking time) at 425 degrees and at the bottom of the oven no less, the apples were perfect but the crust was pretty dry and very dark brown. It looked gorgeous but wasn't the best in the taste department. I'm pretty damn picky, but it could have been better if the crust hadn't been so very very baked.

#1 Daughter: Thoroughly enjoyed the leftovers for breakfast the next day.

In Which I Attempt "The Best All-American Apple Pie" - Part Three

2010-05-01T15:27:00.000-07:00

Finally getting to the point: How was the pie? (A bit of a derailment due to an outbreak of lice/nits in elementary school. Two days of constantly combing my daughter's very long, tangle-friendly hair. And lots of laundry and vacuuming, etc, etc.)

The pie was delicious. Was it worth all that bother? I'm not sure. Visually, it wasn't nearly as beautiful as I expected once baked. The crust, being fantastically flaky, looked darker and rougher than I'm used to.

Crust- Extremely flaky, proceed with caution when serving and follow Rose's recommendation to wait four hours before serving. This was the most intensely flaky crust I've ever made. It was almost croissant flaky. And very buttery-tasting. If the flaky crust thing is what draws you- or that hot firefighter who lives next door- this is your crust!

Filling- I used organic Gala apples. Sliced 1/4 inch thick, they retained their shape and didn't go all mushy on me. I included one or two organic Granny Smith apples too and just for giggles, left their peels on. The macerating of the apples and cooking down the juices with butter made the filling richer than I'm used to- excellent when hot, but once cool, there were bits of resolidified butter in the pie dish.

Process- Oy vey, was that a lot of work compared to the usual apple pie! Making the crust the day before is definitely the way to go. This is not your let's-have-dessert-I'll-whip-up-a-pie kind of deal. Aside from simple assembly and baking, we're looking at up to five to six hours of wait time. Granted, most of this time is not active prep time, it's waiting time, so this is a great pie to making while you're writing that novel or enjoying a hanging-around-the-house day. Also a good girlfriend baking day pie- lots of time to catch up while you're waiting for those apples to macerate.

NOTE: Macerate- to make soft by steeping or soaking in a liquid, from the Latin maceratus, past participle of macerare. I always thought "macerate" sounded rather painful, as in "While grating the horseradish, I accidentally macerated my knuckles."

My Personal Opinion- Delish with a dollop of vanilla ice cream! But super rich- I could not eat more than a small slice, which is really saying something because I often have a hard time stopping after one large slice of pie. Not so yummy cold; the solid butter bits didn't help. A good pie to impress with if served warm!

#1 Daughter Review: "It's the best thing I've ever tasted!" She ate two slices and she's not a huge pie person.

Guest Tasters: The boys all seemed to really like it. There was a lot of nomming and scraping of bowls.

In Which I Attempt "The Best All-American Apple Pie" - Part Two

2010-04-27T21:46:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it. I've been in a bit of a pie rut lately. Hence the decision to bake my way through The Pie and Pastry Bible. I've pretty much stuck to the same pie crust recipe for the last 15 years: 3 cups of flour, a tsp of sugar, a half tsp of salt, two sticks of unsalted butter (not a stickler for that one- salted seems fine too), and a half cup of ice water.

Rose Levy beranbaum's pie bible has like a gagillion different recipes for crust. OK, maybe not a gagillion, but a whole lot. Rose recommends that you make her "Best All-American Apple Pie" with her "Flaky Cream Cheese Pie Crust," which, compared to my usual crust recipe, is downright fancy. You've got baking powder, cream cheese, and cider vinegar. And as I mentioned a few posts ago, there are a lot of steps taken to make sure everything is chilled.

The directions say to knead the pie crust mixture in a gallon freezer bag and I found that to be a bit challenging. I couldn't quite get everything incorporated and so I finally took it everything out and dumped it into the chilled bowl. After mixing it by hand in the bowl, I was overcome with remorse because I had vowed to- just once in my life- follow directions exactly. My lack of patience got the best of me.

The other interesting- and time-sucking- thing about this recipe was macerating the apples in the lemon juice, sugars, and spices and letting them sit for half an hour to three hours, then setting them in a colander over a bowl to collect the juice. This juice is then poured into a saucepan with two tablespoons of butter and reduced by a third or so.

When I finally assembled the pie, I found the crust to be similar in temperament to my usual recipe, if a little more sticky due to the cream chez. Again ignoring directions and throwing caution to the wind, I floured my table and rolled the crust out. Rose recommends buttering two sheets of plastic wrap or flouring pastry cloth. I prefer to save on plastic and waste in general. I mean, Rose, what gives? First we're using two gallon freezer bags and then a bunch of plastic wrap when I usually only use a bit of parchment paper and some foil. Sorry for the soapboxing but let's consider the environment for a moment.

Trixie and I agreed, the pie looked great when it was all set to go in the oven.

In Which I Attempt "The Best All-American Apple Pie"

2010-04-27T21:20:00.000-07:00

While working on the above-mentioned pie, with its two full pages of instruction (more than three if you count the pie crust recipe), the plumber, who was fixing the bathroom sink, popped his head into the kitchen to express his concern that perhaps our dog had eaten a large brass screw. Said screw was nowhere to be found and said dog was entirely capable.

A call to the vet prompted a visit to the vet for exam and x-rays and a bit of a wait.

No screw was found- inside the dog or the house.

Back to Baking

2010-04-26T10:42:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's been a very long while since last I posted to this blog. Work and family tend to get in the way of blogging. In any case, inquiring minds may want to know- and my husband wants you to know- that the doorknobs have indeed been replaced.

Now, on to the matter at hand. The goal is to bake the hell out of Rose Levy Beranbaum's Pie and Pastry Bible, starting with the very first pie in the book and - if I can stick with it (let's be honest here, I do have trouble finishing projects sometimes) - bake each and every pie in this massive tome. (Thanks, Emily!)

The weekly BurningMan camp meetings being held here have helped me get started because there's nothing like a regular meeting here at the homestead to inspire me to feed people! Sadly, they've had to endure slightly similar treats the last two weeks - apple/pear upside down cake, apple galette - and now tonight is apple pie. But it's not just any apple pie. We're talking apple pie a la Rose LB made with such painstaking care and niggly tiny steps that it can't fail to be fab. Right?

I don't know. I'm already daunted by her pie crust directions and thinking, "Really? You want me to chill the mixing bowl and then cut the chilled butter into pieces and then chill it again? And I need to assemble the crust in a gallon freezer bag and mix and then stick it in the freezer, Rose? Really?" Anyone who knows me knows I am a slowfood type of gal, but this is veering into anal retentive pastures.

Well, here goes. Will report back when it's all over. Wish me luck. Do you think I'll be OK without pastry flour?

A Crust of a Different Color...

2008-06-06T12:08:00.000-07:00

This is a much shorter post, I promise! (My husband, aka my blog beta tester, is getting a little cranky about being asked to read all of these long posts. Maybe I should pull out the "What have you done for me lately?" 'tude... Hear that, Bun? DOORKNOBS! As in, put them back on the friggin' doors, I don't care how tarnished they look.)

Last night I subjected some friends and family to my first attempt at making pizza - without using those tasty cornmeal crusts you can buy at the store.

It was pretty good, but I still have a bit to learn about pizza crust cooking times and thickness. I used a recipe from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone (looooove this book!):

2 tsp yeast
1 1/2 cups warm water
2 TBS olive oil
2 tsp salt
1 to 1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
3 to 3 1/2 cups flour
Cornmeal to sprinkle on the pan

We did four pizzas- fresh mozz, smoked mozz, caramelized onion and sauteed mushroom; pesto with fresh mozz and asparagus (and no tomato sauce); fresh mozz with garlic-sauteed kale and pine nuts; and my daughter's creation of smoked mozz and caramelized onion.

To give you an idea (if you live near me) of the kind of crust I like, I think Rustica makes a perfect pizza crust. So I'd like to pose some questions to all of you fabulous chefs out there-

1.) What's your favorite pizza crust recipe?
2.) How do you get it to be just the right thickness for a crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside kind of crust?
3.) How do you really tell when it's done? The middle looked doughy but the sides were getting brown.
4.) How do you avoid a conflagration of smoking cornmeal bits on the sides of the pan/pizza stone? (Or do I just open all the doors to create a nice cross draft so that the smoke detectors don't get all crazy?)
5.) What's your favorite pizza topping combo?

Please, please, please share your secrets!

Pie Interlude

2008-05-27T22:46:00.000-07:00

We interrupt this search for enlightenment with a brief discussion of pie and pie crust. I feel very strongly, I should note, that the search for enlightenment and the search for really good pie are very similar:

Search for Spiritual Enlightenment:
Feeling vaguely dissatisfied with life
Searching for deeper meaning
Feeling that there must be something you can do to elevate your spirit
A general mistrust of the stereotypical “church” or organized religion as it is portrayed in the media
Experiencing moments of bliss while meditating, chanting, singing
Feeling connected through spiritual community

Search for Pie Nirvana:
Feeling vaguely dissatisfied with current pie selections
Searching for really good pie that tastes like the ones your Grandma used to make
Feeling that there must be some pie out there that could elevate one’s taste buds
A general mistrust of common, chain-store bakery pie made without love by sad-faced, overworked and underpaid people
Experiencing moments of bliss while rolling out the crust and flipped it without a tear into the pie plate
Feeling connected through pie appreciation

Feel free to skip this section if you are not pie-inclined (you know who you are… Bunny!).

I made a lovely apple strawberry pie a few days ago and thought I’d share my recipe. But first, a word or a thousand about pie crust. Where do you stand on pie crust? Thick? Thin? Crispy? Soft? Pre-baked so the bottom isn’t all pasty-beige and raw? Special ingredients so that the crust has a personality all its own? Mix the dough by hand? Food processor? Mixer? Lay it on me, I really want to know. Please take my pie and pie crust survey. It's short and sweet, I promise.

Googled apple strawberry recipes- sad selection, pre-made crust?!! WTF? I know some of you may think you can’t make a pie crust or you don’t have time. Call me. I will walk you through the process. Or we’ll make a pie together. Bring it on.

I have to tell you- I am kind of low tech when it comes to cooking. This means that things take me a bit longer than they might if I had all the newfangled tools, like a microwave or a big Cuisinart. I suppose it’s stupid of me not to invest in some of these things, as one thing I’m always bemoaning is my lack of time to cook and bake. But part of the whole reason for baking is taking the time to do it and make something to feed yourself and others. I like to infuse my baked goods with positive juju too. Next time you make something, send it your love and see what happens.

But I digress, as usual. What I’m trying to say is that I do most things by hand. Like mixing pie crust. Or whipping cream, but I whip cream by hand because I’m a bit of a show-off, not because I don’t have a pink KitchenAid mixer sitting on my counter. But also, I get confused easily, and if it’s just my hands and nothing to wrangle but the dough, I’m good to go. Plus, I hate cleaning those dang blades.

This recipe is adapted from the wonderful and fun James McNair and his Pie Book. I like his version of pie crust:

3 cups flour (I usually just use unbleached, all-purpose flour)
1 tsp salt
2 tsp sugar
1 cup unsalted butter right out of the fridge (don’t let it sit out and reach room temp- you want it chilly! And I know a lot of people like to use shortening or other ingreds in their crust, but I like the butter way. I am going to experiment with some other fats… more on that later.)
½ cup or more of ice water (I usually measure out a ½ cup of water in a measuring cup and then drop an ice cube in)

This is enough dough to make a double crust pie or two single crust pies.

Mix the flour, salt and sugar. If you’re feeling wild and flirty, try sprinkling a little sumpin’ sumpin’ into the flour mixture. Like some cocoa powder or cardamom or cayenne. Cut the butter into little chunks (about the size of square grapes, if that helps) and drop into the flour mixture. Work the butter chunks into the flour as quickly as possible- the key is not to over mix, kind of like with pancakes. I find that I use a twisting motion with one or both hands as I break up the butter- kind of like a washing machine rotor. Sprinkle the flour with the ice water (just don’t let the ice cube fall in) and combine again until the dough starts to hold together. If it’s still really crumbly, add more water. I usually wind up using another few tablespoons of ice water.

Divide the dough in half and place each half on a sheet of wax paper. Gather into a ball and press flat. Wrap the paper around the crust and place in the fridge for 15 minutes.

Now for the rolling out of the pie dough. If you’ve got a marble pastry board, you are golden, but a kitchen counter will do. Sprinkle some flour around your work surface and break out your rolling pin. (Again, I heart marble for this job, but my mom has this really gorgeous mahogany or some such dark wood rolling pin that is completely smooth and just tapers at the edges so you don’t get any lines from the sides of your rolling pin.)

Roll the dough out from the center toward the edges so you get a uniform circle that’s around 1/8 of an inch thick. Eyeball your pie pan to make sure the dough circle will be big enough and overlap the sides so you can have fun with fluting the edges.

If your dough breaks at any point, just brush the broken edges with a tiny bit of cold water and press them gently together.

I’ll leave it to you to figure out how to get your pie dough from the counter to your pie pan. I never know how I’ll wind up transferring it. Sometimes it sticks a bit and a spatula is needed to gently loosen the bottom, before folding it in half and lifting it into the pan.

I used to ignore this next step, but then I read in Baking with Julia about how the gluten relaxes if you chill the dough for another 30 minutes or so. Why, you ask, do I need to worry about the gluten’s state of relaxation? Well, apparently gluten, when not relaxed, will kind of bunch up, like you do around the shoulders after a particularly stressful day at work or when your child decides to reach into their diaper and create poo paintings on their bedroom walls. Your dough will start to contract and that lovely edge you’ve created will sink down into the side of the pan. So let that gluten relax, I say. And take that 30 minutes to pour yourself a glass of wine and kick your feet up or listen to Chamma Chamma at high volume while shaking your bahootie. Or better yet, watch it!

Now it’s time to pre-bake that suckah! (Or bake it all the way if you’re going to make a pie whose filling doesn’t need to be baked.)

Preheat your oven to 400° F.

Place some foil over the unbaked pie crust and gently press it down. Make sure your foil is bigger than the pie so the foil just covers the edges. Fill the shell with pie weights (ceramic balls about the size of a large pea- you can get them at most cookware stores), dried beans, or rice. I have pie weights, but I’ve also found dried kidney beans to be very effective. Bake just until the crust feels slightly set, roughly 7 to 10 minutes. Set a timer so you don’t burn your crust!

Remove the pie crust from the oven, take the pie weights and foil off, and prick the sides and bottom of the crust with a fork so it won’t puff up like mine did the first time. Stick that pie crust back into the oven for another 5 minutes or so. Voila! Pre-baked pie crust.

Here’s my recipe for Apple-Starberry Pie. I call it that because I was making a pie for a picture for a party invite and it needed a star on the crust. If you cut out a star in the top crust, it looks lovely – you can see the gorgeous fusion of apple strawberry white and red mixing and mingling into a mélange of yum. It’s also apple strawberry because that’s what I had on hand. But it worked out so well, I thought I’d share it. Pretty simple combo.

Apple Starberry Pie

Preheat your oven to 425° F.

In a large bowl, combine:

¾ cup sugar – use brown sugar for a richer flavor (I sometimes use a bit less as I don’t like a super-sweet pie)
¼ tsp salt
¾ tsp cinnamon
a generous pinch of cloves
a generous pinch of allspice

Mix well. Add 8 cups of peeled, cored, and thinly sliced apples (I like Granny Smith or Pinata) and 1 cup of sliced strawberries. Mix well to make sure the fruit is nicely coated with the sugar mixture. Add 1 TBS lemon juice and 1 tsp lemon zest and toss like a salad so everything’s incorporated. Put the fruit into the cooled pie shell and if you’re feeling decadent, dot with a few tablespoons of butter.

Roll out the rest of the pie dough for the top crust, making a slightly larger circle than the pie. Place the top crust over the rest of the pie and moisten the edges with beaten egg white to paste the two crust edges together. Pinch off excess dough and cut some air vents or decorative shapes. (Or the initials of the person you’re making the pie for, if it’s a gift.) You can brush the top crust with a mixture of an egg yolk and 2 TBS whipping cream for a shinier glaze. I don’t always do this because I find that it sometimes makes the top brown quicker. I do like to sprinkle the top with a cinnamon sugar mixture, for added sweetness.

Before I put the pie in the oven, I usually cover the edges of the crust with those handy metal pie shields. You can get them at most cookware stores or fashion your own out of heavy duty aluminum foil. That way, your crust edges don’t get too burnt before the rest of the pie’s done.

Bake for 10 minutes. Then turn down the temp to 350° and bake for around 40 minutes more, until crust is golden brown and the fruit is nice and squishy.

Let cool for a few minutes and serve with vanilla ice cream. Yum!

Don't Drink the Kool-Aid

2008-05-16T08:49:00.000-07:00

Warning! My writing is much like my meditation- a basket full of puppies who can't stay in the same place and run yipping and slipping to all corners of the room to chew on things and sniff around for thrills and spills. SO if you find you just can't stay with me, my apologies and by all means, please go read something more rewarding, like Pride and Prejudice or the Sexual Politics of Meat.

So there I was, sitting in front of an empty bookcase in a Zen center. I am in pretty desperate need of spiritual connection or something of the sort. I just know that what I got now ain’t working and it’s time to shake things up a bit. Fear and anxiety have become too familiar and now always know where to find me. I want to feel some sort of connection to spirit again.

I found this Zen center online and their web site says you can just show up, so that’s what I did. When I arrived a greeter guy took my backpack and showed me where to stash my stuff. As he reached for my water bottle, I had a sudden urge to clutch it to my chest. My purple Sigg water bottle, it turns out, is something of a security blanket (or “blanklet,” as my daughter would say). But I resisted my urge and let him stow my trappings of yuppiedom away, safely out of sight.

Back to the empty bookcase. So greeter guy takes me to the prop area so I can choose what I want to sit on during meditation. Being the competitive person I am, (I get it from my dad, who gets it from his mom- oh just accept it, it’s not an insult) I immediately offered to simply sit on the floor. Out of the kindness of his heart, greeter guy saw through this tactic and suggested I use a pillow and a blanket. He also hands me an index card with about five lines of text on it and tells me that they will be chanting this at the end. I glance at the words and try not to feel disappointed in the form and word choice. Man, am I judgmental or what? I place the card at the foot of my cushion, so I can read it when we chant.

OK, now back to the empty bookcase. So he leads me into the meditation room, points me to a place in the corner, and explains that we’ll be facing different directions at different times. So I sit down with my face no more than 10 inches from this big, built-in, mahogany bookcase, which is empty.

I was trying to be all Zen and not look for reason or meaning in everything, you know, just quiet the mind, but when faced with a blank bookcase and 10 minutes before the meditation practice is set to start, what would you do?

A blank bookcase. At first I thought maybe it was saying to me, “Look at all the books you’ve written. NOT!” or maybe, “Here lies the sum of your accomplishments.” Ouch. But against my more cynical self (who really doesn’t get much of a chance around here), I went with, “This is for you to fill with your experience as you embark on this spiritual journey. You have only just begun and you have so many stories to write. And they will all be true.” Of course, it also occurred to me that the bookcase was empty because, if it had been full, I would have been distracted by thoughts along the lines of, “Who’s still reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance? Haven’t we moved on to I Am That?”

A bell started ringing and a gong, or maybe it was a gong and then a bell. Then silence, at least inside the room. Outside, it’s still over 80 degrees at 7:15 p.m. and everyone and their dog is outside hootin’ and hollerin’ and the gang bangers are driving by with their blasters thumping out Kanye West talking about how when she leaves your ass, she’s gonna leave with half. And little girls are running up and down the street, their sandals clacking loudly on the sidewalk, like Buddhist monks hitting those clappers to begin a new chant.

And for some odd reason, I feel bliss. I don’t mind the noise, in fact, it’s fine. It works. I have been feeling so burnt out by the city, by congestion and smog and noise and mean drivers (myself sometimes included) and lines and concrete but in that moment, I am down with it. It’s just life.

I sit, facing the empty bookcase, not knowing if my eyes are supposed to be opened or closed. I choose closed, but sometimes, when I do get swept up in the vortex of energy swirling around inside, I open them to see the comforting dark brown emptiness of those smooth, entirely dust-free shelves.

I try to quiet my mind and focus on my breath and feel how tight my stomach is. I like to keep my insides tucked up under my rib cage when I’m anxious or stressed. And there they stay for quite a while, even after the main reason for stress should be gone. There’s a weight on my chest as I try to breathe smoothly and easily. Normally, I’m pretty hard on myself when I’m not able to do something perfectly, but this time I just keep reminding myself that this is the first time I’ve meditated in a very long time. I feel like being kind to myself and that kindness seems to radiate outward as I sit in stillness.

A bell rings and everyone gets up to do the walking meditation. Again, I have no idea what I’m really supposed to be doing, so I just follow the woman in front of me until I realize she’s heading to the bathroom and then I veer off back into the main room. We are walking very slowly and I can’t tell if people have their eyes open or are doing some blind king fu magic with their third eye. Another bell and we’re suddenly moving faster around the room and out and back in. I follow greeter guy, who’s weaving a path between the cushions on the floor, which very much reminds me of walking the labyrinth at Grace Cathedral with my mother-in-law. In the moment, I think of her and feel gratitude for having known her (she died on December 24, 2004) and joy in her presence, but now, as I write, I feel the loss and my insides wander back up inside my ribs.

Which leads me to share what I’m searching for. Meaning. I need to believe that there’s some reason we’re all here and that the loss of loved ones that seems to extinguish all the light is not just plain old loss and the way things have to be. I can’t stand the idea that I’ll just slowly lose everyone who matters to me. That I might even lose some of those who are younger than me. Like my daughter. Or my husband.

SO I need to believe in something that ties it all together and makes it mean something. Kind of like Lebowski’s rug. It really tied the room together.

And if you know anything about Buddhism, you’re probably thinking, “She’s barking up the wrong tree if she wants to find meaning in death. The whole point is that there is no meaning. You just have to let go of your expectations and desires. Therein lies the suffering.”

Back at the Zen center, when the walking part is over, we all go back our places, bow a few times, and sit down facing into the center of the room. And the whole thing begins again. I sit quietly and breathe, but unlike the first zazen, now I am wriggly and can’t get comfortable. My right leg starts to burn, right along my knee and down the side of my calf and I can’t seem to find a position that feels good. The air is cooling down and my thoughts are quieting and the truth is, I still do feel good. Happy and relatively peaceful. Excited about embarking on this adventure.

A bell chimes and everyone bows and begins chanting. I realize that my index card is gone. It is nowhere to be found and so I simply sit in silence as everyone chants. The words are meaningful in and of themselves but just don’t, dare I say it, resonate with me. For me, chants require rhythm and flow. I want to be able to relish the sounds of the words and the shapes my mouth makes as it forms the words. I do so find pleasure in forming words.

After the chant, we all get up and bow and then prostrate ourselves in front of the altar and then get up and then get back down several times.

Then it’s time for tea and cookies. “That’s what I’m talking about!” I think, as we repair to the kitchen. I decide to use the bathroom first, not so much because I have to go, but because I feel like I need a moment of reflection before speaking and interacting.

I enter the kitchen and introduce myself to the six or so people there. A woman holding a pitcher smiles and says, “Would you like some herbal tea punch? It’s… minty.” As she pours it for me, she adds, “It’s an experiment.”

Why in heaven’s name would I drink something that has just been referred to as an experiment, from someone I don’t know, in a house I’ve never been to before? Because I’m a nice person and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings and she looks like a very nice lady, around my mom’s age and well, it’s frickin’ hot and I’m thirsty.

So I drank the kool-aid, so to speak. I had several sips. And she was right, it was… minty. It was so minty, it tasted like she’d dumped half a bottle of peppermint extract into the pitcher. At first, it just tasted refreshing, but then my throat began to tingle, the way mucous membranes and sensitive areas tingle when you get a little crazy and splash cologne in places it doesn’t belong.

I politely said good night and drank the entire contents of my water bottle as soon as I got to my car. When I got home, my husband asked how it went and I said, “Hold on, I have to eat some yogurt to coat my throat.” One large bowl of Greek yogurt and two pieces of heavily buttered toast later, I was able to share what I learned.

I know it sounds corny, but I learned that happiness really is inside me if I just shut my mouth and sit still for a moment and listen. But also-

Kindness need not extend to consumption of toxic herbal tea.

and

Bliss does not preclude stupidity. (And I refer here to my own bliss and stupidity and nobody else’s.)

Write Something, Already!

2007-05-02T10:48:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my blog. I will be your tour guide should you find a reason to not run screaming away or fall asleep from insufficient stimulation. I have a five-year-old, so I have all the stimulation I can handle, thank you very much.

Here's my idea: I love to cook and I love to feed people. Feeding people is something I feel compelled to do. If you come to my house, you will eat or drink something or I will have failed in my primary directive. SO I thought it might be fun to try to cook everything in my pristine and thus far untouched Baking with Julia cookbook and share my experiences- good and bad, lovely and horrifying- with anyone who might be interested in reading about it. I also want to share the fruits of my labor. Or should I say, baked goods.

But then I realized that I wouldn't really be baking with Julia because Julia didn't write the book or even technically create the recipes. This had me in a quandary, a word I explained to Tallulah (the stimulating five-year-old) means a situation in which you feel stuck and confused about your choices. On further exploration, my trusty Webster's New World College Dictionary (fourth edition) describes a quandary as "a state of uncertainty; perplexing situation or position; dilemma." Well there you go; I was pretty close. And for the wordsmiths out there, Roget's Thesaurus offers "dubiety" and "predicament" as synonyms. I particularly enjoy "dubiety" and will have to find a way to use that later today in some casual conversation...

In any case, welcome. On with the show. Oh, and you may encounter a number of non-food-related posts along the way, as I journey down my path to enlightenment. Ok, let me level with you, it's pretty likely there will always be some mention of comestibles, or it just wouldn't be me.

Thanks for reading. Party on...