resurfacing: or, where june went.

Dear June,

Um. Where have you gone?

Best,
Me

I feel like I blinked and a month went by. To celebrate the end of the semester (and coursework!) as well as two family birthdays, I went to Hershey and hung out with this little monster:


Sophie's tongue peeks out when she's tired. (If people really do grow to resemble their dogs, I'm in some trouble.) After some quality family time and an ill-fated culinary adventure (more on that later), I headed to Boston.

Though Philadelphia has - thoroughly and delightfully - become home, I love revisiting my old city. A., D., and G. graciously shared with me the delights of the South End this time, including cupcakes at The Buttery (delicious as its name would indicate) and a memorably wonderful small-plates feast at Coppa.

finger-licking, waddle-inducing yumminess

i want one in my neighborhood. now.

awesome turquoise cafe tables; colorful pitcher-of-aperitifs; pea and sheep's milk ricotta crostini

Parma Pizza: tomato, mozzarella, prosciutto, arugula, parmesan. oh. my.

strawberry sorbet and chocolate gelato. it took all of my restraint not to fend off the rest of the table with a fork and hoard these for myself.

lovely view, lovely evening

During a day of sunny wanderings, A. and I also stumbled upon a fun exhibit of travel posters from the 20s and 30s at the Public Library. Some of my favorites:


I also went back to BC; I love the campus in late May when it's been spruced up for commencement but all the festivities are over. The Jesuits' rose garden and the collegiate-Gothic-wonderfulness of the rare books library, two of my touchstones, remain comfortingly familiar.


After a brief stopover back in Philly, I drove to upstate New York with my family to celebrate my grandad's 80th birthday (yay!), returned home ... and came down with a whopping case of strep throat. Of course.

But now I'm rested up and ready to settle into a summer routine - and summer cooking! This week the farmers' market yielded cherries, summer squash, and kale.

quick post-farmers'-market dinner:
summer squash sauteed with garlic, thin strips of kale, and diced tomatoes, tossed warm with small cubes of fresh mozzarella

More soon. Looking forward.

chocolate zucchini cake.

When I was growing up - and still, really - desserts in my family meant chocolate. My mom is the baker, and if a dessert isn't chocolate, she's not really interested. (I come by my chocolate addiction honestly.) This is one of our old stand-bys: a not-too-sweet, wonderfully moist, easily-thrown-together chocolate zucchini cake that Mom has been making for as long as I can remember. Today, it marked the celebratory official end of a two-semester-long Samuel Richardson immersion. In fact, this hefty cake probably weighs almost as much as the unabridged Clarissa. Almost.


Chocolate Zucchini Cake
Adapted from Mom

8 tbsp. butter, softened
1 1/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. cocoa powder
3 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
Zest of 1 orange
1/2 c. buttermilk
2 c. coarsely-grated zucchini (about 3 small or 2 large)
2 1/2 c. flour
2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg


1. Oven to 350F. Grease and flour a bundt pan.

2. Cream butter and sugar. Beat in eggs. Add vanilla, orange, and buttermilk, and mix until well blended.

3. Stir in zucchini.

4. Mix dry ingredients in a separate bowl. Stir into zucchini mixture until combined.


5. Pour batter into bundt pan; bake for ~40 min. or until inserted knife comes out clean. Cool on rack before removing cake from pan. (*Trust me: let it cool. I rushed things today and, well, the cake looked like I'd dug in ahead of time. Oops.)

almond macaroon torte.

This is not simple to whip up, nor is it a particularly light dessert. [Pats stomach gingerly at memory of over-fullness.] Because really, anything that uses over a pound (!) of chocolate in the frosting isn't going to leave you feeling peckish. But if sometimes, like me, you're in the mood for both a culinary project and a decadent dessert, this almond macaroon torte fits the bill perfectly.

It did cause me some kitchen-distress. A large part of the pleasure of baking lies, for me, in the presentation. That's what initially drew me to this cake, after all. (Besides the aforementioned pound of chocolate.) All went smoothly through trimming the edges of the macaroons with a ruler to regain their straight edges. But then I found, to my dismay, that the frosting had stiffened up much more quickly than I'd expected, leaving me not to spread it as planned but to pat on a bit at a time, using the heat of my hands to melt it together. Not quite the effect I'd hoped for. But it worked out in the end, thanks to some patching help from M. The moral of this story: frost quickly! Or you end up with chocolate playdough.

Almond Macaroon Torte
from smitten kitchen

Macaroons
2 1/2 c. (10.5 oz. or 300 g.) slivered almonds (or an equivalent weight of blanched, sliced, or already-ground almonds)
1 c. plus 3 tbsp. sugar
2 large pinches kosher salt
2 tsp. vanilla extract
6 egg whites

Chocolate Frosting
1/2 c. water
1/2 c. sugar
Flavoring of your choice, such as 1/2 tsp. vanilla or almond extract (*I was hurrying a bit and so forgot this step; next time - and, oh, there will be a next time - I might try a glug of Grand Marnier)
20 oz. dark or semi-sweet chocolate, chopped

1 c. sliced almonds (*I didn't toast mine, though you certainly could)

1. Preheat oven to 325F. Draw two 12" x 4" rectangles on a piece of parchment paper, leaving at least an inch or two in between them. Repeat with another sheet of parchment. Place on baking sheets, turning the parchment over so that your pencil marks don't seep into the macaroons. (Ick.)

2. Blend almonds, 1 c. sugar, and salt in food processor until finely ground.

3. Using electric mixer, beat egg whites until soft peaks form. Drizzle in vanilla and then slowly add remaining 3 tbsp. sugar. Beat until stiff but not dry. Fold nut mixture into egg whites.


4. Spoon 1/4 of macaroon batter into each rectangle, smoothly gently to fill the outline completely. Bake until golden and almost firm to the touch, rotating the sheets at least once, for about 23 minutes. Cool.


5. For frosting, simmer water and sugar in medium saucepan until sugar dissolves. Measure 10 tbsp. and discard the rest or save it for another use. Put back in saucepan and add flavoring of your choice; bring to a boil, then add chocolate. Remove from heat and let sit 1 min., then stir until smooth.

6. To assemble, use a sharp knife and a ruler to trim your macaroons back to their original shape. (*This step also means yummy macaroon scraps!) Place one macaroon on a long platter (*see my note), sliding a thin strip of parchment under each side to create a clean edge when you're finished. Spread about 1/2 c. of frosting, then top with another macaroon. Repeat twice, placing the last macaroon on top with its flat side up. Spread remaining frosting over top and sides of torte; press sliced almonds onto all 4 sides. Store at room temp.


*Note about the platter: I don't have a rectangular platter, so I cut two flaps off a shipping box that was waiting to be recycled, taped them together, than covered the top first with a scrap of wrapping paper and then with plastic wrap. Makeshift pretty platter! (And not my first; this also comes in handy if you're going to a party and don't want to worry about getting your tart/cake pan back at the end of the evening.) Just don't let it bend!

onion upside-down pie.

I came across this recipe while flipping through How to Be a Domestic Goddess on my way to the chocolate babycakes and remembered that it's been languishing on my ever-growing mental must-try-this list ever since I received the book as a gift a few years ago. (Thanks, S.!) Determined to make it before summer temperatures cause me to break out in a sweat at the mere prospect of turning on my oven, I decided it would be the perfect reward to end a long day of drafting papers.

I made just a few minor adjustments, like cooking the onions for longer and adding a splash of apple cider vinegar at the end to deglaze the pan. Served with a big green salad, this was simply satisfying. And while my pie did NOT look like the picture in Nigella's book, the pale mauve of the onions was quite pretty. M. and I speculated that the pie might work with different combinations, too, like leeks and blue cheese. Yum!


Supper Onion Pie
from How to Be a Domestic Goddess

Filling/topping:
4 med. red onions
1 tbsp. olive oil
1 tbsp. butter
3-4 sprigs of thyme, de-stalked
5 oz. sharp cheddar cheese, grated (about a heaping 1/2 c.)

Scone dough:
1 2/3 c. all-purpose flour
1 scant tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
scant 1/2 c. milk
3 tbsp. butter, melted
1 scant tsp. dry English mustard
1 large egg, beaten
1 tbsp. apple cider vinegar (*optional; I liked the depth of flavor this gave the onions)

1. Preheat the oven to 400F. Peel the onions, halve them, then cut each half into 4 segments. (*I then separated each segment so that the onions would cook evenly.)


2. Heat the oil and butter in a large skillet, then add the onions and cook over med. heat, stirring regularly, for about 45 mins. (*my adjustment; Nigella suggested 30 but I wanted the onions softer). (*Add the vinegar at the end, scraping the pan to get all the yummy browned bits.) Season with salt and pepper to taste, then add thyme.


3. Turn the onions into a 9-in. pie dish and scatter 2 oz. of cheese on top. Let sit while you make the scone dough.

4. Combine flour, baking powder, and salt in a bowl, then add remaining cheese. In a separate bowl, mix the milk, butter, mustard, and egg well, then pour into the flour mixture. Mix to a dough using a fork or a wooden spoon; it should be quite sticky.

5. Tip onto a (*lightly floured) work surface and pat it out into a circle roughly the size of the pie dish. Place it on top of the onions, pressing it down lightly and making sure all the edges touch the dish, to seal it.

6. Bake at 400F for 15 mins., then turn oven down to 350F and give it another 10 mins. (*mine needed about 15), by which time dough should be golden and crisp on top. Let stand for a few minutes, then cover with a large plate and flip over, releasing the pie.

molten chocolate babycakes.

After savoring a few restaurants' variations on the molten chocolate cake over the past few months, I thought to myself, "Hmm. I could probably make something like this. Then no one would see me if I decided to actually lick the plate." I then remembered Nigella Lawson's molten chocolate babycakes. I'd made them once before a few years ago with so-so results (I was too cautious and overcooked them) and burnt fingers (you have to flip the cakes out of their oven-hot ramekins). But I had chocolate-loving friends who volunteered to bring along their grippy silicone potholders, so it seemed worth another try.

And was it ever. I forgot how easy these are to make; even better, you can make them ahead of time and then pop them in the oven just before you're ready to eat them.

You might lick the plate. I would understand.


Molten Chocolate Babycakes
from How to Be a Domestic Goddess

1/4 c. unsalted butter, softened
12 oz. bittersweet chocolate
1/2 c. sugar
4 large eggs, beaten lightly with a pinch of salt
1 tsp. vanilla
1/3 c. flour
6 oven-safe ramekins

1. Lightly butter each ramekin. Fold a sheet of parchment paper in half and trace the bottoms of 3 ramekins in pencil. Cut out the discs (*slightly smaller, so that they'll fit inside the ramekin) and press one into the base of each ramekin.


2. Melt chocolate and let it cool slightly.

3. Cream together butter and sugar, then gradually beat in eggs and salt, then vanilla. Add the flour and combine until smooth. Scrape in the cooled chocolate and mix until smooth.

4. Divide the batter between the ramekins. (*It's quite thick, like chocolate mousse, so I just scooped up spoonfuls and plunked them down. It will all smooth out in the oven.)


5. Place the ramekins in the fridge and cover lightly with a large sheet of waxed paper. (*If you're baking the cakes right away, skip this, of course.)

6. Preheat oven to 400F with an empty baking sheet. When oven is ready, quickly place the ramekins on the hot baking sheet and bake for 10-12 mins. - 12 if they've been in the fridge, otherwise 10 should do it. (*Don't overbake! They'll look barely done, but that's the whole point.)

7. As soon as you take them out of the oven, tip each cake out of its ramekin onto a plate and pry off the parchment on top. (*This was where I needed the silicone potholders, and even then there was some decidedly clumsy wrestling with the hot ramekins. Luckily, the cakes come out easily.) Serve with whipped cream or ice cream - you'll need something to cut the richness. I also made a quick raspberry sauce by heating frozen raspberries with a dash of water and a tbsp. of sugar in a saucepan until the berries broke down and then forcing it through a fine sieve to strain out the seeds.

lemon crepe cake.

I saw this cake recently while browsing through my mom's Martha Stewart Living and immediately declared out loud, "I must make this." Sophie, my parents' pug, looked at me skeptically, but I was determined. The classy jello party provided the perfect occasion - this has gelatin in it, after all!

Martha recommends Meyer lemons, and I was willing to give them a try. However, my produce place had run out and so I used regular lemons instead. I actually liked their tartness and think it helped to cut the richness of this cake.

I will certainly make this again, though not for a little while. (Because of all the "do-this-and-then-refrigerate-for-an-hour" parts of this recipe, it did take the whole day to make. Which can be very satisfying, but not in the headlong final rush of the semester. I also find making crepes somewhat stressfully unpredictable.) I might try playing with the recipe to make it a bit lighter; I think it would also be lovely topped with fresh berries.



Lemon Crepe Cake
from Martha Stewart Living (April 2010)

Lemon curd mousse:
1 tsp. unflavored gelatin
1 tbsp. cold water
4 eggs plus 6 egg yolks
1 c. sugar
Zest of 2 lemons plus juice from 6 lemons
6 tbsp. cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 c. heavy cream, whipped

1. Sprinkle gelatin over water in small bowl; let stand 5 min.

2. Whisk together eggs and yolks in a small saucepan. Whisk in sugar, lemon zest, and lemon juice. Cook, whisking constantly, over medium-low heat for 8-10 min., until thickened.

3. Remove pan from heat. Add gelatin, stirring constantly until gelatin is dissolved and mixture is cooled slightly. Add butter a few pieces at a time and stir after each addition until smooth.

4. Strain through a fine sieve into a bowl (*this was important to get out eggy bits), pressing with a rubber spatula to get as much through as possible. Press a piece of plastic wrap directly onto curd to prevent skin from forming. Refrigerate until set, at least 2 hours or overnight.

5. Stir the curd and then fold in the whipped cream. Refrigerate 1 hour. Stir before using.

Crepes:
3/4 c. flour
1/2 c. sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
1 1/4 c. whole milk, room temp.
3 eggs, room temp.
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
6 tbsp. unsalted butter, melted
1/4 c. heavy cream, whipped (for topping)

1. Combine flour, sugar, and salt. In a separate bowl, whisk together milk, eggs, and vanilla. Gradually pour milk mixture into dry ingredients, whisking until smooth. Whisk in butter. Pour through a fine sieve into an airtight container. Refrigerate 2 hours or overnight.

2. Heat a nonstick skillet or crepe pan over medium heat. (*Martha recommends using butter. I didn't, mostly to make the process somewhat less harrowing, and my nonstick skillet worked fine.) Pour about 3 tbsp. (*I used a 1/3 c. measure, filled about halfway, for easy scooping) of batter into pan - off the heat - and swirl to coat evenly. Cook about 30 sec. on each side, until brown on the edges and dry in the middle. Repeat with the rest of the batter, stacking the finished crepes on a plate and let cool. You should get about 14-17 crepes, depending on how thick you're making them.

Assemble cake:
1. Place one crepe on a flat plate or serving dish. Spread about 1/4 c. lemon curd mousse onto it and top with another crepe. Continue layering crepes and mousse. Use 15 crepes, ending with 1 on top. (*I used 16 and spread a thin layer of mousse on top. I'm a rebel, Martha.) Refrigerate until firm, about 1 hour.


2. Top cake with the whipped cream. You could also make the Candied Meyer Lemons, though I simply used lemon zest.

classy jello.

Last night, we had a classy jello party. Oxymoron? No way.

The challenge was to make alcoholic jello that didn't belong at a frat party. So I turned to Martha Stewart. (Naturally.) And she didn't disappoint: her "Dessert Wine Gelees" were fantastic. I used moscado instead of mixing Sauternes and orange muscat and cut back a bit on the sugar. They were so refreshing that I would make them again for a summer party or picnic.

Other jello experiments were similarly delicious:

sambuca and grapefruit peel, by M.

masterful jello rendering of the Slough of Despond, by D.

strawberry jello with tequila and sour worms, by J. and C.

The menu was rounded out with a mushroom-leek galette, mojito popsicles, and gin-soaked fruit salad. Yum! I also made a cake. More on that in its own post.



White Wine and Citrus Jello Cubes
Adapted from Martha Stewart Weddings

5 tbsp. cold water
3 tbsp. unflavored gelatin (about 3 1/2 packages)
1/3 c. sugar
1/2 c. water
2 1/4 c. moscado wine (*any sweet white would probably work)
2 grapefruits, 2 oranges, 2 tangerines (*or another combination)

1. Combine the 5 tbsp. cold water with gelatin in a small bowl. Let stand 5 mins.

2. Combine sugar, 1/2 c. water, and wine in a saucepan over medium heat. Simmer until sugar has dissolved, whisking occasionally. Add gelatin mixture and whisk until melted. Cook 1 min. Remove from heat and pour through a fine sieve into a 9 x 13" glass baking dish. (*I forgot the sieve, but it didn't seem to matter.)

3. Cut peel and pith from the citrus. With a sharp knife, cut each segment from the membranes and then cut them into thin slices, around 1/8" thick. (*This part was a bit of a sticky mess, but the side benefit was that I ended up with a good-sized glass of juice when I squeezed all of the leftover membranes. Yum!)


4. Arrange the citrus in the baking dish, making sure it's in a single layer and evenly distributed.


5. Refrigerate, uncovered, overnight.

6. To unmold, run a knife around the edges of the dish. Using an offset spatula, gently loosen the sides of the jello. Invert onto a large cutting board. (*If yours doesn't release right away, as mine didn't, try placing a hot towel over the inverted pan for 30 seconds, which should loosen the jello.) Trim the edges and cut into cubes. (*I'll admit that I used a ruler for this!) Refrigerate, uncovered, for up to a day.