Herewith, my second-born:

I’m writing this post because this morning, I made pancakes. But not just any pancakes — special pancakes. They feel like popovers, but they aren’t.

I made one with toasted coconut, the flavor of which was overpowered by the pancake flavor. The next one that I made didn’t work, because it had freeze-dried strawberries in it. It didn’t work because the strawberries absorbed the moisture from the pancake batter, and it didn’t brown.

The sad strawberry pancake

I then chopped up a Reese’s peanut butter cup, and put that in one of them. It was gone shortly after it finished cooking.

The very happy Reese's pancake

Then, I made some with cinnamon chips and chocolate chips in them. I still have two of these, simply because I had already eaten half a batch of pancakes, and figured I shouldn’t have any more.

The equally happy cinnamon-chocolate chip pancake

The strawberry one and some of the second Reese’s I made are going to have strawberry butter put on them fairly soon. Oh, right, and I’m also making the strawberry butter.

Basic Pancakes (rom How to Cook Everything®, Simple Recipes for Great Food, by Mark Bittman)

Makes 4 to 6 servings [fewer if you're a 13-year-old boy]

Time: 20 minutes

Americans must have been sadly alienated from the kitchen for pancake mixes to ever have gained a foothold in the market, for these are ridiculously easy to make.

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 1 tablespoon sugar
• 1 or 2 eggs
• 1½ to 2 cups milk
• 2 tablespoons melted and cooled butter [optional, but I used it]
• unmelted butter for the griddle, if you don’t have nonstick

1. Preheat a griddle or large skillet over medium-low heat while you make the batter.

2. Mix together the dry ingredients. Beat the egg(s) into 1½ cups of the milk, then stir in the 2 tablespoons melted cooled butter (if you are using it). Gently stir this into the dry ingredients, mixing only enough to moisten the flour; don’t worry about a few lumps. If the batter seems thick, add a little more milk.

3. If your skillet or griddle is nonstick, you can cook the pancakes without any butter. Otherwise, use a teaspoon or two of butter or oil each time you add batter. When the butter foam subsides, or the oil shimmers, ladle batter onto the griddle or skillet, making any size pancakes you want. Adjust the heat as necessary; usually, the first batch will require higher heat than subsequent batches. The idea is to brown the bottom in 2 to 4 minutes, without burning it. Flip when the pancakes are cooked on the bottom; they won’t hold together well until they’re ready.

4. Cook until the second side is lightly browned and serve, or hold on an ovenproof plate in a 200ºF oven for up to 15 minutes.

And remember, you can do anything with this recipe, but I do recommend Reese’s.

And now, a very special guest blogger!

Hi, I’m Ben. This week, I made the Chockablock Cookies, and everyone who tried them (except my mom) liked them. I didn’t have many takers because a lot of people don’t like molasses, but those who do liked them. We didn’t have any coconut or regular molasses, so I left the coconut out, and I used 1/4 cup light corn syrup and 1/4 cup blackstrap molasses.

Comments on the dough:

Alex: It was good, more molasses-y than the baked cookies.
Mom: Too molasses-y.

Comments on the cookies:

Alex: They were good but essentially identical to the other four or five cookies full of nuts and dried fruit that are in the book.
Mom: I was really surprised to like them as much as I did, because I don’t like raisins  and molasses.

Me again. Ben made the cookies to take to his first ever gathering of local homeschooled teens. Today is his birthday — my baby is 13 today.

Lots of other bloggers made these too, and you can no doubt find much more detailed descriptions and tons of creative variations at their blogs, so check them out. Bye!

Having the privilege of choosing this week’s recipe is perfect timing, because #1 Son, my firstborn, Alex, turned 18 on Sunday. This post is just the last part of a multi-week celebration that started with his admission to Duke in early December and continued through Chanukah, Christmas, and New Year’s and now his joining the ranks of adulthood. It’s been an eventful month and a half.

So, I made these bars. Oatmeal-cookie base, chocolate-peanut layer in the middle, then oatmeal-cookie topping. They looked and sounded delicious.

And they are.

They weren’t the simplest cookies in the world, what with the three layers and all. But at least the bottom and top layers were the same batter, which helped a little. (And that batter? Marvelous. Check it out.)

So I made the cookie batter, which was really more of a dough, then pressed it into a pan, reserving some for topping. Then I melted some chocolate chips and butter and poured it on top, then covered it with the reserved cookie dough. At the special request of my now-adult son, I added raisins to a quarter of the filling, leaving the rest blissfully fruit-free. (See the toothpick marking the nasty part?)

And then I baked it. I was rushing to get this into the oven before taking Ben (previously known as #2 Son) to karate, so Alex was in charge of getting it out. I think he said it took about 10 or 15 minutes longer than the recipe indicated, but my oven’s been behaving badly lately.

They cooled for the specified two hours in the pan, then went into the fridge on a cooling rack overnight. The next morning we sliced them up and packed them up to take along on our annual New Year’s visit to friends in Virginia.

They were good. Not too sweet, and so not too rich. The raisin version proved surprisingly popular. There’s no accounting for taste.

They spent the day on an unheated screen porch in Northern Virginia, so they were cold when we ate them. They were a hit:

Alex: One of my favorite Dories. Totally made up for the Cocoa-Nana Bread [tune in next week!].

Ben: Om nom nom good. [Please supply your own lip-smacking sounds.]

[And where, you may be asking, is Tim, heretofore referred to as Husband? He's off carbs. May God have mercy on his soul.]

If you’d like to see what the other TWD bakers thought about these, check out the blogroll. And instead of sending you to someone else’s blog for the recipe, I can include it here!

Chocolate Oatmeal Almost-Candy Bars, from Baking: From My Home to Yours

For the oatmeal layer:

2½ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 sticks (8 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature
2 cups (packed) brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
3 cups old-fashioned (rolled) oats
1 cup salted peanuts, coarsely chopped

For the chocolate layer:

14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
2 cups (12 ounces) semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
¼ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup moist, plump raisins (dark or golden)
¾ cup coarsely chopped peanuts, preferably salted

Getting ready:
Center a rack in the oven, and preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Butter a 9-by-13-inch baking pan, and place the pan on a baking sheet.

To make the oatmeal layer:

Whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon.

Working with a stand mixer, preferably fitted with a paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the butter on medium speed until it is soft and creamy. Add the brown sugar and beat for 2 minutes, then add the eggs, one at a time, beating for a minute after each egg goes in. Beat in the vanilla. The mixture should be light and fluffy. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the dry ingredients, mixing just until they disappear. Still on low speed, or working by hand with a rubber spatula, stir in the oats and chopped peanuts.

Set aside 1½ to 2 cups of the mixture, then turn the remaining dough into the buttered pan. Gently and evenly press the dough over the bottom of the pan. Set aside while you prepare the next layer.

To make the chocolate layer:

Set a heat-proof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water. Put the condensed milk, chocolate chips, butter, and salt in the bowl and stir occasionally until the milk is warm and the chocolate and butter are melted. Remove the bowl from the pan of water and stir in the vanilla, raisins (if using), and peanuts.

Pour the warm chocolate over the oatmeal crust, then scatter the remaining oatmeal mixture over the top. Don’t try to spread the oatmeal, and don’t worry about getting the topping even — this is fun, remember?

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the topping is golden brown and the chocolate layer is dull and starting to come away from the sides of the pan. Transfer the baking pan to a rack and cool for about 2 hours.

Run a blunt knife between the edges of the cake and the pan, and carefully turn the cake out onto a rack. Turn right side up, then refrigerate for at least 1 hour before cutting.

Cut into 32 rectangles, each roughly 2¼ by 1½ inches. Makes 32 bars.

Serving: I think these are best served cold from the fridge, although my husband likes them straight from the freezer, cut into slivers. Before you chill the bars, though, have one — you might find you like them best at room temperature, in which case you’re lucky: You can start enjoying them sooner.

Storing: Wrapped well, these will keep for about four days at room temperature, 1 week in the refrigerator, or up to two months in the freezer.

We’ve been making gingerbread houses for years, since the now-very-nearly-18-year-old #1 Son (hereafter known as Alex) was a wee lad. We started out with the standard cottage, but there’s a limit to how many years in a row we could do that. We’re, um, quirky around here.

Over the past 15 years or so we’ve made a haunted tower, a ruined castle (the year we tried a new recipe and it didn’t work), a spaceship, a sunken pirate ship, the chocolate room from Willy Wonka (my personal favorite), Stonehenge, and a fairy-tale cottage with a torture chamber in the basement. Last year it was a goblin dungeon (courtesy of the boys; parental discretion advised). The tradition is that we decide on the structure together, then I figure out how to make it happen, and they decorate it. Works for me.

We started discussing this year’s house (er, structure) in November, and we tossed around a lot of ideas. And then Alex got into Duke University, and our lives began to revolve around his future alma mater.

At Duke, all freshmen live on East Campus, a lovely collection of Georgian buildings built along a long, narrow green. It’s lovely. So I thought, “Hey, let’s make East Campus!”

Foolish, foolish woman.

Let’s just say that this looked very different in my head. I wanted to make the whole green: eight identical buildings with two different ones in the middle, plus a round auditorium at the end. Plus, every year during orientation the new freshman class gets together for a photo of their graduation year.

I’d do that too!

Well, scale’s a bitch. That’s a huge green, let me tell you. I spent days gathering photographs and taking measurements in Google Earth. (Did you know there’s a ruler in Google Earth? It’s awesome for obsessive-compulsives like me.)

And then I started drawing and realized it was impossible.

I would have needed a five-foot-long board to do it to the smallest scale I thought was feasible for building the houses. That’s just silly. And there are supposed to be trees, but the cones we bought to make the trees are about 50 percent taller than the buildings. (Please don’t ask why I had to keep it to scale. Please.)

So, regroup. I went with the six center buildings, which is four of the identical ones plus the Lilly Library and the Marketplace. I drew templates. I baked pieces, just a few, to test the recipes (more on that later).

And then I realized that there was no way I could do the fancy roofline on such a small scale. It just wasn’t going to happen.

Regroup again. Two-story buildings instead of three. (See how calm I’m staying? Breathe in, breathe out.)

And then those freshman making numbers? (You can buy baby gummy bears now!) Didn’t fit in the center circle. I punted yet again.

So here you have it. I did what I could. The construction is not up to our usual standards. There’s not much room for decoration. And the gingerbread doesn’t taste all that good. But Alex got into Duke, and that’s all that matters.

After it was built, I let the boys decorate it. Alex added snow on the building and a lovely nonpareil border, plus a Blue Devil up there on the roof. Sadly, it took me so long to get this whole thing done that we’d eaten most of the candy we bought for it, so it’s a minimalist house this year. But it’s ours, and Alex got into Duke. We are very happy.

So, this month’s challenge offered a choice of two doughs, one very simple and the other a bit more complex. I made both, just to see. Both of them (Anna’s dough, from Good Housekeeping, and Y’s dough, a more traditional Scandinavian recipe) mixed fine (although I left out the baking soda and used much less flour than they called for, because a lot of the Daring Bakers had trouble with the doughs being too dry; the recipes below have the amounts I used). They rolled out fine. They baked fine. But they didn’t look all that good as finished pieces, and they don’t taste like much.

For years I’ve used Teresa Layman’s recipe from her amazing Gingerbread for All Seasons (sadly out of print and insanely expensive used; check your library!). If you want to see the amazing things that can at least theoretically be done by normal people, check out that book. I’ve learned a lot of techniques from it over the years, but I couldn’t make anything near as gorgeous as she does. Her recipe bakes up flat and pretty and builds lovely structures, and it tastes pretty good (especially with royal icing on it!).

And it lasts — I found some of last year’s dough in the back of my freezer, thawed it out, and baked it up.

So the six buildings in our little tableau are made up of pieces made of three different doughs. All the roofs are Teresa Layman’s dough; see how pretty they are?

(Oh, and speaking of roofs, wanna hear a funny story? I built one of those little C-shaped buildings and very carefully measured it, so I could make the roof template. I very carefully drew the template (using a T-square!). I very carefully cut out the template. I very carefully baked the pieces. I very carefully cooled the pieces. I very carefully laid a roof on top of my finished building. And I discovered that I had somehow — very carefully, no doubt — cut my lovely C into a T. Isn’t that funny?)

The recipes below include a sugar syrup for putting the houses together. I loved this idea; it seemed so much neater than having to pipe royal icing along all the walls. I cannot tell you how much sugar I wasted trying to get this to work. My first test batch seemed OK, and held the walls together nicely until my husband, marveling at how secure they were, picked up the building and waved it around; they were not that secure. So I tried again. I tried melting the sugar dry. I tried adding a little water, remembering some recipe I once read that said that adding a little water made it easier to melt sugar without burning it. And I did use the sugar syrup to put the walls together. But I could only get a few walls out of each batch before it became too burned or too crystalized, and I added quite a few new specimens to my collection of scars. So next year, it’s back to the icing.

Oh, and here’s the rest of my template, as actually used:

Update: Within minutes of my taking those photos above, the campus was gone, demolished by two growing boys and their unfortunately growing father. We didn’t have a party to take it to this year, so this was a purely private achievement— except for all of you!

So, with no further ado, the recipes:

Anna’s Recipe:
Spicy Gingerbread Dough (from Good Housekeeping)

2½ cups (500g) packed dark brown sugar
1½ cups (360mL) heavy cream or whipping cream
1¼ cups (425g) molasses or maple syrup
9½ cups (1140g) all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon(s) ground ginger

Directions

1. In very large bowl, with wire whisk (or with an electric mixer), beat brown sugar, cream, and molasses until sugar lumps dissolve and mixture is smooth. In medium bowl, combine flour, baking soda, and ginger. With spoon, stir flour mixture into cream mixture in 3 additions until dough is too stiff to stir, then knead with hands until flour is incorporated and dough is smooth.

2. Divide dough into 4 equal portions; flatten each into a disk to speed chilling. Wrap each disk well with plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 4 hours or overnight, until dough is firm enough to roll.

3. Grease and flour large cookie sheets (17-inch by 14-inch/43x36cm)

4. Roll out dough, 1 disk at a time on each cookie sheet to about 3/16-inch thickness. (Placing 3/16-inch dowels or rulers on either side of dough to use as a guide will help roll dough to uniform thickness.)

5. Trim excess dough from cookie sheet; wrap and reserve in refrigerator. Chill rolled dough on cookie sheet in refrigerator or freezer at least 10 minutes or until firm enough to cut easily.

6. Preheat oven to 300 degrees F (149C)

7. Use chilled rolled dough, floured poster board patterns, and sharp paring knife to cut all house pieces on cookie sheet, making sure to leave at least 1 1/4 inches between pieces because dough will expand slightly during baking. Wrap and reserve trimmings in refrigerator. Combine and use trimmings as necessary to complete house and other decorative pieces. Cut and bake large pieces and small pieces separately.

8. Chill for 10 minutes before baking if the dough seems really soft after you cut it. This will discourage too much spreading/warping of the shapes you cut.

9. Bake 25 to 30 minutes, until pieces are firm to the touch. Do not overbake; pieces will be too crisp to trim to proper size.

10. Remove cookie sheet from oven. While house pieces are still warm, place poster-board patterns on top and use them as guides to trim shapes to match if necessary. Cool pieces completely before attempting to assemble the house.

Y’s Recipe:
Scandinavian Gingerbread (Pepparkakstuga, from The Great Scandinavian Baking Book by Beatrice Ojakangas

1 cup butter (226g), room temperature
1 cup brown sugar, well packed (220g)
½ cup white sugar
2 tablespoons cinnamon
4 teaspoons ground ginger
2 teaspoons allspice
½ cup boiling water
5 cups (625g) all-purpose flour

1. In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar until blended. Add the cinnamon, ginger and cloves. Mix the baking soda with the boiling water and add to the dough along with the flour. Mix to make a stiff dough. If necessary add more water, a tablespoon at a time. Chill 2 hours or overnight.

2. Cut patterns for the house, making patterns for the roof, front walls, gabled walls, chimney and door out of cardboard.

3. Roll the dough out on a large, ungreased baking sheet and place the patterns on the dough. Mark off the various pieces with a knife, but leave the pieces in place.

4. [I rolled out the dough between two pieces of parchment, about 1/8 inch thick, and cut the required shapes. Then I transferred the parchment to the cookie sheet, so I didn't have to move the shapes and possibly distort them. I saved scraps and rerolled them at the end.]

5. Preheat the oven to 375′F (190′C). Bake for 12 to 15 minutes until the cookie dough feels firm. After baking, again place the pattern on top of the gingerbread and trim the shapes, cutting the edges with a straight-edged knife. Leave to cool on the baking sheet.

Royal Icing:

1 large egg white
3 cups (330g) powdered sugar
1 teaspoon white vinegar
1 teaspoon almond extract

Beat all ingredients until smooth, adding the powdered sugar gradually to get the desired consistency. Pipe on pieces and allow to dry before assembling. If you aren’t using it all at once you can keep it in a small bowl, loosely covered with a damp towel for a few hours until ready to use. You may have to beat it slightly to get it an even consistency if the top sets up a bit. Piped on the house, this will set up hard over time.

Simple Syrup:
2 cups (400g) sugar

Place in a small saucepan and heat until just boiling and the sugar dissolves. Dredge or brush the edges of the pieces to glue them together. If the syrup crystallizes, remake it.

]]> http://www.confectiona.com/2009/12/daring-bakers-gingerbread-house/feed/ 9 http://www.confectiona.com/2009/08/tuesdays-with-dorie-creamiest-lime-cream-meringue-pie/ http://www.confectiona.com/2009/08/tuesdays-with-dorie-creamiest-lime-cream-meringue-pie/#comments Tue, 25 Aug 2009 10:00:51 +0000 Lillian http://www.confectiona.com/?p=791 I really haven’t been posting much lately; I just haven’t had time to cook anything interesting all summer (apart from my Tuesdays With Dorie recipes, of course). I will try to do better now that it’s cooling off out there.

I almost passed on this week’s TWD; I’m just not a huge fan of most pie, and I don’t particularly like lime (or lemon, or orange, or …). But the rest of my family loves lime everything, and there was a mini-rebellion when I suggested skipping this one.

So yesterday #2 Son and I went out and bought those baby graham crusts (thank you, Keebler) and made some pies.

He did the hard work, the zest grating and lime juicing and ingredient measuring.

Isn’t it pretty?

We took turns whisking the egg mixture over the simmering water; it took less than three minutes to get up to 180 degrees, so I guess our flame was a bit higher than Dorie’s suggestion, but it worked well. I’m not a patient person.

Straining didn’t work — the lime cream was just too thick to go through the holes, so I dumped it straight into the Vita-Mix and whirled it around. We used half the butter (thank you, P&Q), and boy, was that stuff tart.

We gave it three hours in the fridge — dinner was approaching, and as #2 Son pointed out, we had cut the recipe in half so it needed less time to cool. He did the shell-filling honors while I made the meringue (which I cooked a bit, following Peabody’s excellent suggestion; I used half a cup of sugar for two egg whites, which is slightly less sugar than Peabody calls for and more than Dorie calls for, but hey, I’m a rebel).

Then he applied the meringue artistically, six different ways, and I stuck them in the broiler, one at a time.

Turns out 30 seconds is too long.

And 20 seconds is too short.

But 25 seconds is just right.

I was dubious about the broiler’s ability to set the meringue (which is one of the reasons I made Peabody’s version), but it was lovely. I actually liked the pie once all the components were together, and the rest of the family loved it:

Husband: I thought the marshmallowy meringue was a fantastic change. I probably wouldn’t have liked it as much with a more standard, chewier meringue. The lime flavor was spectacular, tart, deep, very pleasing. I could easily have eaten every single one of those little things.

#1 Son: The pie was delicious. The ginger in the lime filling made it bright and complex, and the marshmallowy meringue was a perfect companion.

#2 Son: I think the meringue could have been a little less sweet. The lime cream was good, but it had this weird aftertaste; I couldn’t figure out what it was. All in all, om-nom-nom, nom-nom, om-nom-nom. [Translation: That was quite delicious, Mother. May I have some more?]

There are sure to be many variations among the Tuesdays With Dorie bloggers, and Linda of Tender Crumb will have the recipe posted today. (Or buy the book!)

Tuesdays With Dorie has a new logo, a particularly snazzy one designed by Lisa of Surviving Oz. (And someday maybe I’ll manage to get it onto my blog.) As a reward, Lisa got to choose this week’s recipe, and she went with the very yummy-sounding Tribute to Katharine Hepburn Brownies.

We had these a week and a half ago, at our last Friday dinner before #1 Son went off to work at a Civil Air Patrol encampment. As I was still editing 12 hours a day, I handed these off to him, as has become all too common lately. And he did them proud.

The batter for these brownies was absolutely magnificent. I love brownie batter so much. I’m not nearly as fond of actual brownies, but the batter? To die for.

So #1 Son made the brownies, following the recipe exactly. He doesn’t do that often, and I think it chafed. So to put his own inimitable touch on the dessert, he pulled some fudge ripple ice cream out of the freezer and made a cinnamon sauce to cascade gently over the whole mess. (He just warmed some half-and-half and poured it over some cinnamon chips. I’d give you the proportions he used, but he has no idea. Sorry.)

And the brownies were messy. When we cut them, they oozed everywhere. They were baked enough, I think, but gooey. (After being refrigerated all night, they were much more solid. I liked them better the next day.)

See? Gooey.

On their own, I wasn’t impressed by the brownies. (To be fair, as I said above, I’m not a big fan of brownies in general.) They were too dark and heavy and rich. But add the ice cream and — heaven help us — the cinnamon sauce, and the whole thing turned sublime. It was still really rich, but amazing. I loved it. Yum. Really good. Thank you, #1 Son. (And welcome home!)

The rest of the family liked them too.

Husband: I didn’t have the sauce. The little bit of cinnamon in them did add something, I have to admit as a non-fan of cinnamon; it gave them a little bit of depth that they otherwise wouldn’t have had. And the gooeyness quotient was fantastic. I like my brownies almost runny.

#1 Son: Due to my impatience, they were perhaps a wee bit gooey initially, but firmed up well overnight. On their own neither the ice cream nor the brownie was particularly impressive, but combined with the sauce it came together into a stellar dessert. I found the brownies a bit heavy and rich, but I generally prefer a lighter, more caramelly blondie, so I’m biased.

#2 Son: I really liked the brownies — they were all gooey and stuff. Gooey’s the best kind of brownie. The ice cream was really good with it, and the cinnamon sauce worked well.

And here’s the magic sauce:

Go read about the brownies created by all the other TWD bakers, and if you want to try them yourself, buy the book (Baking: From My Home to Yours, by Dorie Greenspan) or visit Surviving Oz.

I made this cake a month ago. I was so proud of myself — I was ahead for once; I could write the post at my leisure, and just hit Publish when it was time.

But I neglected to actually write the damn thing, or process the photos. I had a month.

Anyway, now it’s 10 p.m. on Monday night, and I suppose this will once again be a not-very-good post. I’m sorry.

I made this cake for #2 Son’s 12th birthday party back in May. He was a good enough sport to accept a white cake, but he held out for chocolate frosting.

So I left out the lemon and added twice as much vanilla, and needless to say I left out the jam. I made the frosting as Dorie instructs, but I melted 6 ounces of bittersweet chocolate and added it to the meringue after it was cool. I intended to add the coconut, but there were people here already, and I forgot. (I have a long, inglorious history of decorating birthday cakes while guests are in the next room.)

As I recall, this was easy to make; I even managed to slice the layers in half without destroying them. And as I further recall, I liked it. It wasn’t the best cake I’ve ever had — #1 Son and his beloved America’s Best Recipes were responsible for that — but it was good. I didn’t think the buttercream was buttery enough; I’m a big fan of buttercream, something of a buttercream connoisseur (connoisseuse?), you might say. This was more of a chocolate marshmallow fluff: not bad at all, but not buttercream. And considering how much butter was in there, I was expecting buttercream.

Family thoughts:

Husband: I could taste the strange flour [the cake flour], but it was very light. I thought the overall effect of the chocolate icing on the cake was good. It wasn’t too sweet all together.

#1 Son: [He's away for the week, working at a Civil Air Patrol encampment. And I seem not to have written down his impressions back when I actually made the cake. Sorry again.]

#2 Son: I thought the frosting was a little sweet, but the cake itself was pretty good. It was too big, though; I had to unlayer it.

Go check the hundreds of variations helpfully provided by the Tuesdays With Dorie bakers, and if you want to try it yourself — it is a Perfect Party Cake, after all — buy the book or visit mix, mix… stir, stir, where Carol will have the recipe.

This week’s TWD recipe, chosen for us by Tommi of Brown Interior, was Honey-Peach Ice Cream. Yum.

Unfortunately, it’s about a month too early for local peaches here in the lovely mid-Atlantic, so I had to buy some California imports at Whole Foods. They were not Jersey peaches, let me tell you.

I cut up half the not-terribly-ripe alien peaches and threw them into a pot, then discovered that the local farmers market honey was gone. I threw a little tantrum and then left for a doctor’s appointment. While I was gone, #1 Son rode to the rescue and made the custard with agave instead of the honey.

I love #1 Son.

I came home to discover custard chilling in the fridge (with lots of little egg bits in it; he didn’t know the strainer trick). I left again to take #2 Son into the city for an art class.

I came home to delicious ice cream, strained and churned and stuck in the freezer to harden. (And it did harden; we had to let it sit out for about 10 minutes before we could scoop it.)

I love #1 Son.

I make a lot of ice cream in the summer; I’m partial to Philadelphia-style recipes because they’re so much easier, but I’ve been using David Liebovitz‘s Perfect Scoop a lot too. Homemade ice cream is something of a staple around here.

I say this so you’ll trust me when I say that this stuff was good. Once the peach bits softened up a little, it was excellent. Try it. You’ll like it. But wait till the peaches are in season.

As a starter (everything’s a starter; dessert is the important course), #1 Son made a Vietnamese-Creole fusion dinner of gumbo served pho-style with add-ins of curried peas, toasted walnuts and pecans, sauteed mushrooms, black olives, coriander chutney, and a dill-roasted garlic tomato sauce. He’s creative, I’ll say that for him.

We wound up with less than a quart of ice cream, and we could have eaten more. And you know what’s really good? Slivered toasted almonds on top. Perfect combination.

(Not very photogenic, though. Here’s a shot in #1 Son’s Marine Corps mug.)

Herewith, the reviews:

Husband: I was disappointed in the texture — it didn’t look or feel like ice cream in the bowl. But in the mouth it had a wonderful peach flavor, especially as the peach bits warmed up a bit, and I wish there had been more. The agave worked perfectly.

#1 Son: Flavor was good. Texture was a little grainy, more like a granita than an ice cream. But that could have been more my fault than the recipe’s; this was the first time I’ve ever made custard-style ice cream. I was worried about the agave, but it turned out really well. I think it let the peach shine more than honey would have. It was also pretty good with toasted almonds, I gotta say.

#2 Son: Flavor was good. Texture was kind of hard. I didn’t get very many actual peach bits, but it was creamy if you let it sit out for a second. I had it in a bowl of bread, which was too salty, but it was good with toasted almonds. I would eat that again, without the bread bowl.

Check out the variations created by the other TWD bloggers, and get the recipe either from Baking: From My Home to Yours or from Brown Interior. Then make the ice cream already!

I wasn’t going to do apple, was I?

I thought it was about time #2 Son got to take part in one of these posts, so I let him make the filling. He decided on a mix of ground lamb, mashed potatoes, and onions, which was odd because he has always been a bit uncomfortable about lamb in the past. We went to the farmers market together to get the ingredients, but he did the rest alone. He made the mashed potatoes. He browned the lamb. He chopped and sautéed the onions. It’s so nice having kids who can cook.

I made the dough, and it was much easier than I anticipated. I hate rolling out dough (as I may have mentioned once or a hundred times before), and #1 Son is away for the weekend, so I couldn’t even push it off on him. And this dough has to be stretched tissue-thin, to about 2 feet by 3 feet. Feet! Directly on a tablecloth!

The dough was just a simple bread dough, sans yeast, and after resting for 90 minutes it was silky smooth and handled like a dream. Following the hostesses’ advice, I made a double batch, and it’s a good thing I did: My first attempt wasn’t quite as successful as I’d hoped. I crumpled it up and started again, and I did much better the second time. There were a few holes, but it didn’t matter.

Then I brushed the dough with butter and added #2 Son’s filling (in the size and shape called for in the recipe), then rolled it up. It was so cool — it worked exactly as it was supposed to! That so rarely happens in my kitchen (or, in this case, in my dining room). The dough didn’t stick to the tablecloth even a little. Brushed it with butter again.

Baked it for a bit longer than the recipe said, about 35 minutes. Did not wait the specified 30 minutes before cutting, because after all, that was for apple filling. Should have waited a bit longer. Very hot.

But once we could get it into our waiting maws, it was worth the wait. It was essentially shepherd’s pie in a flaky, flaky crust, but that description doesn’t do it justice. I don’t write well enough to do it justice. Even my usually reliable husband is at a loss for words. But it was really good.

#2 Son: I found my filling quite good. You couldn’t really taste the lamb or the onion over the potato [editor's note: I didn't notice that], but the potato was delicious. I think the crust was really good.

Update: Husband ate the leftovers two days later, cold. He called it shepherd’s strudel, and he was pleased.

And then I had that sad crumpled ball of dough, and I couldn’t just throw it away. That would have been wrong. So I rolled it out again; I couldn’t get it nearly as big as the other half. I think it wound up about 12 inches by 18 inches. I brushed it with butter, sprinkled it with a mixture of ground almonds, dark brown sugar, and cinnamon, and filled it with chopped milk chocolate and toasted slivered almonds.

That one didn’t come out as pretty, and the crust was much tougher. Guess you can’t roll the dough more than once. But the chocolate was all melty and good. Really, it reminded us all of those lovely rugelach we made last fall. No one minded eating the strudel, tough crust or no.

Check out what all the other Daring Bakers did with the strudel — there are sure to be some amazing variations. And if you want to try it yourself (go ahead — it’s easier than you think!), here’s the recipe:

Apple Strudel
from Kaffeehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Cafés of Vienna, Budapest and Prague by Rick Rodgers

Preparation time: 2 hours 15 minutes to 3 hours 30 minutes

2 tablespoons (30 ml) golden rum
3 tablespoons (45 ml) raisins
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
⅓ cup plus 1 tablespoon (80 g) sugar
½ cup (1 stick / 115 g) unsalted butter, melted, divided
1½ cups (350 ml) fresh bread crumbs
strudel dough (recipe below)
½ cup (120 ml, about 60 g) coarsely chopped walnuts
2 pounds (900 g) tart cooking apples, peeled, cored and cut into ¼-inch-thick slices (use apples that hold their shape during baking)

1. Mix the rum and raisins in a bowl. Mix the cinnamon and sugar in another bowl.

2. Heat 3 tablespoons of the butter in a large skillet over medium-high. Add the breadcrumbs and cook whilst stirring until golden and toasted. This will take about 3 minutes. Let it cool completely.

3. Put the rack in the upper third of the oven and preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Line a large baking sheet with baking paper (parchment paper). Make the strudel dough as described below. Spread about 3 tablespoons of the remaining melted butter over the dough using your hands (a bristle brush could tear the dough, you could use a special feather pastry brush instead of your hands). Sprinkle the buttered dough with the bread crumbs. Spread the walnuts about 3 inches (8 cm) from the short edge of the dough in a 6-inch-(15cm)-wide strip. Mix the apples with the raisins (including the rum), and the cinnamon sugar. Spread the mixture over the walnuts.

4. Fold the short end of the dough onto the filling. Lift the tablecloth at the short end of the dough so that the strudel rolls onto itself. Transfer the strudel to the prepared baking sheet by lifting it. Curve it into a horseshoe to fit. Tuck the ends under the strudel. Brush the top with the remaining melted butter.

5. Bake the strudel for about 30 minutes or until it is deep golden brown. Cool for at least 30 minutes before slicing. Use a serrated knife and serve either warm or at room temperature. It is best on the day it is baked.

Strudel dough

1⅓ cups (200 g) unbleached flour
⅛ teaspoon salt
7 tablespoons (105 ml) water, plus more if needed
2 tablespoons (30 ml) vegetable oil, plus additional for coating the dough
½ teaspoon cider vinegar

1. Combine the flour and salt in a stand-mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix the water, oil and vinegar in a measuring cup. Add the water/oil mixture to the flour with the mixer on low speed. You will get a soft dough. Make sure it is not too dry, add a little more water if necessary. Take the dough out of the mixer. Change to the dough hook. Put the dough ball back in the mixer. Let the dough knead on medium until you get a soft dough ball with a somewhat rough surface.

2. Take the dough out of the mixer and continue kneading by hand on an unfloured work surface. Knead for about 2 minutes. Pick up the dough and throw it down hard onto your working surface occasionally.
Shape the dough into a ball and transfer it to a plate. Oil the top of the dough ball lightly. Cover the ball tightly with plastic wrap. Allow to stand for 30-90 minutes (longer is better).

3. It would be best if you have a work area that you can walk around on all sides like a 36 inch (90 cm) round table or a work surface of 23 x 38 inches (60 x 100 cm). Cover your working area with table cloth, dust it with flour and rub it into the fabric. Put your dough ball in the middle and roll it out as much as you can. Pick the dough up by holding it by an edge. This way the weight of the dough and gravity can help stretching it as it hangs. Using the back of your hands to gently stretch and pull the dough. You can use your forearms to support it.

4. The dough will become too large to hold. Put it on your work surface. Leave the thicker edge of the dough to hang over the edge of the table. Place your hands underneath the dough and stretch and pull the dough thinner using the backs of your hands. Stretch and pull the dough until it’s about 2 feet (60 cm) wide and 3 feet (90 cm) long, it will be tissue-thin by this time. Cut away the thick dough around the edges with scissors. The dough is now ready to be filled.

Tips

• The ingredients are cheap, so we would recommend making a double batch of the dough. That way you can practice the pulling and stretching of the dough with the first batch and if it doesn’t come out like it should you can use the second batch to give it another try.
• The tablecloth can be cotton or polyster.
• Before pulling and stretching the dough, remove your jewelry from hands and wrists, and wear short sleeves.
• To make it easier to pull the dough, you can use your hip to secure the dough against the edge of the table.
• A few small holes in the dough is not a problem as the dough will be rolled, making (most of) the holes invisible.

I like brownies. I love chocolate-chip cookies (most especially ones made from the amazing oatmeal chocolate-chip recipe on the Quaker Oats box). How could I go wrong with this week’s TWD recipe, which combines the two.

I managed.

I made these in a hurry, a couple of hours before #2 Son’s belated 12th-birthday party. He planned it himself; my only job was to provide the food, so I figured this was a perfect opportunity to make this week’s selection. (I also made one of June’s selections, but you’ll have to wait a while to hear about that.)

A lot of people mentioned having trouble spreading the cookie dough over the brownie batter. That wasn’t a problem. The batter stiffened a bit while I was making the dough, and I just used small spoonfuls of dough and smooshed them together.

Then I baked it for 45 minutes, less than the 50 to 55 called for in the recipe, and when I took it out the cookie layer was dark, maybe too dark, and had risen higher than I expected. I stuck a knife in and got just a few streaks of chocolate, just like the recipe says. So I let the brownies cool in the pan. They unmolded fine.

I trimmed off the burnt edges, and they were good. I sliced a couple of rows of bars, and except for a distressing tendency for the cookie layer to crack, all was well. But when I got to the third row brownie batter oozed out, essentially unbaked. I happen to love brownie batter, so I’m perfectly happy to eat it that way, but it felt wrong serving raw eggs to other people’s children.

They ate the edge bars, though, and they seemed quite happy with them. I got only three quotes, though; sorry about that.

Friend #1: I’ve never heard of a cookie being on top of a brownie. I thought it was really yummy!

#2 Son: They were pretty good. The brownie was delicious, but the chocolate chip cookies on top were overly salted and too crunchy and not all that good. [That didn't stop him from scarfing them down.]

Husband: I liked the middle ones better, where the bottom of the cookie layer was still gooey. Overall, I thought they were a little too sweet.

I thought the brownies were pretty good, although too dark for me. I loved the cookies on top. But together, they just weren’t as sublime as I thought they’d be. Oh, well.

Go see what all the other TWD bloggers did with this recipe, and if you want to try it for yourself, buy Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan or visit Supplicious; Beth is the blogger who chose this recipe for us this week.