To my millions of readers, I apologize for missing the past two weeks of Tuesdays With Dorie. I didn’t even manage to get my customary “I didn’t make the recipe this week” posts up. It’s been crazy around here. But now #1 Son is safely back from his two separate adventures into Civil Air Patrol Land, and #2 Son is safely tucked away at camp, and I can write up this post about this ice cream, which I actually made weeks ago, just like the Daring Baker cookies, in the hopes of writing the post way in advance.
Wow. Some sentence, huh?
Anyway, Lynne of Cafe LynnyLu got to choose the recipe for us this week, and she decided on Vanilla Ice Cream (and has the recipe and some lovely photos posted). As I mentioned when we made the Honey Peach Ice Cream last month, I make ice cream a lot. I often, but not exclusively, use David Lebovitz‘s marvelous Perfect Scoop, which makes heavy use of custard bases, but I also make a lot of Philadelphia-style ice creams, which do not use eggs and which I actually like better, as a rule.
Dorie’s Vanilla Ice Cream uses a custard base, which is so much more trouble than just heating milk or cream and sugar and adding flavor of some sort. It was worth it, though: The ice cream was yummy.
I used a vanilla bean, which added yet another step to the process, but I love those little black flecks in my ice cream. And Husband helped out by whipping up some fudge ripple to add in — thank you, Perfect Scoop! I also tossed in some candied almond slivers, again courtesy of Perfect Scoop.
All together, it was a match made in ice cream heaven, wherever that might be. (Although #1 Son had other ideas, as you’ll see):
Husband: I thought it was rich and fragrant when it was first made. When it deep-froze it crystalized a little bit and didn’t have as good a mouthfeel. But my ripple matched well with it. #1 Son: Despite the ice cream being a bit heavy on the fudge ripple part, the flavors were good. The vanilla was very fresh and bright, and the fudge was rich without being overwhelming. Were I to make it again, I likely would add rum to the ice cream and raisins to the fudge, thereby securing its place solely in my own stomach. #2 Son: Could I have some more deliciousness?
There will be even more variations than usual of this one, being as it is a perfect canvas for improvisation. Check out the Tuesdays With Dorie blogroll, and then make your own variation!
The July Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Nicole at Sweet Tooth. She chose Chocolate-Covered Marshmallow Cookies and Milan Cookies from pastry chef Gale Gand of the Food Network.
We were unexpectedly invited to a July 4th barbecue at the house of some friends, and I thought, “Hey, what a great opportunity to make this month’s Daring Bakers recipes! I’ll be able to write the post early!! I won’t have to stay up late the night before typing my little heart out!!!”
Well, it was a good opportunity to make the recipes. And as you can see, I didn’t stay up late the night before the reveal date. Oops.
Anyway, I made the cookies.
The Mallomars (um, Chocolate-Covered Marshmallow Cookies) were extremely yummy, although the chocolate never did set up until I refrigerated them, and I had to keep them in the refrigerator or they softened up again. I used the vegetable oil option; it seems to me, in retrospect, that cocoa butter, which is solid at room temperature, would have been the way to go. Or maybe shortening.
But if you didn’t mind getting your fingers a bit messy — and I didn’t — they were great. I didn’t roll the cookie dough quite thin enough, because I hate rolling cookie dough, and I’m not very good at it. I used Dorie Greenspan’s trick of rolling the dough inside a plastic bag, which helps immensely, but I put too much dough inside the bag, leading to slightly too-thick cookies. But still yummy.
And the marshmallows sure do harden fast, don’t they? My first 20 or so were beautiful little piped Hershey’s Kiss-like things, lovely to behold.
By the last 20 or so, I was desperately trying to spread the mess with a knife.
I thought the chocolate would hide the mess, or at least camouflage it. I don’t know why I thought that.
But at least some of them came out pretty, and they were all delicious (as I believe I’ve mentioned).
Needless to say, I liked the milk chocolate versions better. My family disagreed (more milk chocolate for me!):
Husband: Delicious little moon pie bites. #1 Son: Honestly, I was not that impressed. None of the components was particularly flavorful, and I found the cookie very dry. [To clarify, he was eating them the next day, after they spent the night in the refrigerator.] #2 Son: They could have used a thicker coating of chocolate, maybe double-dipped, and the shortbread could have had more flavor. The marshmallow was good, though. I would eat them again.
And then there were the Milanos (um, Milan Cookies). The recipe called for flavoring the chocolate with orange, but no. I always liked the Mint Milanos best, so that was my goal.
I added a quarter-teaspoon of peppermint extract to the chocolate, which was dark. Milk chocolate didn’t seem right with mint, but I should have trusted my preferences.
My first batch of cookies were tiny — they barely spread at all. I used much more batter in subsequent batches and got a better cookie; the recipe was very unclear on this point. You have to make the cookie about 75 percent the size you want it to wind up, and thick.
They never got crisp, though. I don’t know if it was too humid here — summer in New Jersey? humid? — or if it was the recipe, but they were always kind of spongy, even after I let them sit out for a couple of hours. The chocolate filling was excellent, though, except I would (of course!) have liked it better had I gone with the milk chocolate. They were pretty, though.
Overall, I preferred the marshmallow cookies, but the family liked the milanos:
Husband: I would have liked a somewhat thicker cookie, but they were pleasant enough after they were refrigerated. #1 Son: Really good. I had them after they were in the fridge for a while. They had gotten to a really good level of chewiness. The filling could have been a little mintier, but it worked well overall. Orange would have been better. [Smartass.] #2 Son: I think there could have been a little more mint in the chocolate, and the cookies could have been snappier, by which I mean actually snappy instead of all bendy. Other than that, thumbs up.
Try them yourselves — experimentation is fun! I think I’d like to try the marshmallow cookies with flavored marshmallows next time.
Mallows (Chocolate-Covered Marshmallow Cookies)
Recipe courtesy Gale Gand, from Food Network website
Not my photo, and certainly not my cookies.
Makes about 2 dozen cookies.
• 3 cups (375 grams/13.23 oz.) all purpose flour
• ½ cup (112.5 grams/3.97 oz.) white sugar
• ½ teaspoon salt
• ¾ teaspoon baking powder
• ⅜ teaspoon baking soda
• ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 12 tablespoons (170 grams/6 oz.) unsalted butter
• 3 eggs, whisked together
• Homemade marshmallows, recipe follows
• Chocolate glaze, recipe follows
1. In a mixer with the paddle attachment, blend the dry ingredients.
2. On low speed, add the butter and mix until sandy.
3. Add the eggs and mix until combine.
4. Form the dough into a disk, wrap with plastic wrap or parchment, and refrigerate at least 1 hour and up to 3 days.
5. When ready to bake, grease a cookie sheet or line it with parchment paper or a silicon mat.
6. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
7. Roll out the dough to ⅛-inch thickness on a lightly floured surface. Use a 1-to-1½-inch cookie cutter to cut out small rounds of dough.
8. Transfer to the prepared pan and bake for 10 minutes or until light golden brown. Let cool to room temperature.
9. Pipe a “kiss†of marshmallow onto each cookie. Let set at room temperature for 2 hours.
10. Line a cookie sheet with parchment or silicon mat.
11. One at a time, gently drop the marshmallow-topped cookies into the hot chocolate glaze.
12. Lift out with a fork and let excess chocolate drip back into the bowl.
13. Place on the prepared pan and let set at room temperature until the coating is firm, about 1 to 2 hours.
Note: if you don’t want to make your own marshmallows, you can cut a large marshmallow in half and place on the cookie base. Heat in a preheated 350-degree oven to slump the marshmallow slightly; it will expand and brown a little. Let cool, then proceed with the chocolate dipping.
Homemade marshmallows:
• ¼ cup water
• ¼ cup light corn syrup
• ¾ cup (168.76 grams/5.95 oz.) sugar
• 1 tablespoon powdered gelatin
• 2 tablespoons cold water
• 2 egg whites, room temperature
• ¼ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1. In a saucepan, combine the water, corn syrup, and sugar. Bring to a boil and cook until soft-ball stage, or 235 degrees on a candy thermometer.
2. Sprinkle the gelatin over the cold water and let dissolve.
3. Remove the syrup from the heat, add the gelatin, and mix.
4. Whip the whites until soft peaks form and pour the syrup into the whites.
5. Add the vanilla and continue whipping until stiff.
6. Transfer to a pastry bag.
Cookie filling:
• ½ cup heavy cream
• 8 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
• 1 orange, zested [or peppermint extract to taste, or whatever you’d like to try!]
1. In a mixer with paddle attachment cream the butter and the sugar.
2. Add the egg whites gradually and then mix in the vanilla and lemon extracts.
3. Add the flour and mix until just well mixed.
4. With a small (¼-inch) plain tip, pipe 1-inch sections of batter onto a parchment-lined sheet pan, spacing them 2 inches apart, as they spread.
5. Bake in a preheated 350-degree oven for 10 minutes or until light golden brown around the edges. Let cool on the pan.
6. While waiting for the cookies to cool, in a small saucepan over medium flame, scald cream.
7. Pour hot cream over chocolate in a bowl, whisk to melt chocolate, add zest and blend well.
8. Set aside to cool (the mixture will thicken as it cools).
9. Spread a thin amount of the filling onto the flat side of a cookie while the filling is still soft and press the flat side of a second cookie on top.
10. Repeat with the remainder of the cookies.
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.
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.
The June Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart… er… pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800’s in England.
Bakewell tart is apparently a term applied to various confections, but in this case it was a shortbread crust topped with jam topped with almond pastry cream-like stuff, then baked. Yum.
I did this one all by myself. I feel so grown-up. In the midst of trying to complete four different jobs at the same time and going insane, I stopped to bake. I’m glad I did.
(For those of you who don’t know, I often contract out the actual baking to my older son, who is 17. He has considerably more free time than I do.)
I wanted to make cherry jam for this, because cherries + almonds = awesome. But I forgot to go to the farmers market after delivering above-mentioned son an hour from home at 6:30 in the morning. So, plan B: a pound of frozen cherries, about an ounce and a half of sugar, and a splash of vanilla. I threw the undefrosted cherries and the sugar in a pot and cooked them for a very long time, mashing occasionally with a potato masher, and near the end using an immersion blender on the poor cherries. One it was jelly-like, I turned off the heat and added the vanilla. Excellent, if I say so myself.
The crust was easy enough, although I must confess to using the food processor. Sorry. I think I didn’t add quite enough water, but it rolled out fine. It was just a bit dry after it was baked.
The frangipane was absolutely delicious raw — I could have eaten it all that way. It was light and airy and sweet and almondy. Really, I’d have been happy with this, the whole bowl, all to myself. But no, I soldiered on.
It baked for exactly the length of time the recipe says, which is rare around here. My oven is old and not terribly reliable. I couldn’t find the sliced almonds I know for a fact I have, so I used slivered.
The tart smelled absolutely stunning while it was baking, and it tasted good too:
Husband: I was a little dismayed by how soft the top was, but once assured it was supposed to be that soft, I actually found it to be enjoyable, and I thought the balance of flavors between the almond and the cherry was great. I really liked the crust too, more than I normally like pie crust.
#1 Son: I would have preferred more fruit flavor. The almond was a little heavy, but I liked the taste.
#2 Son: I liked it. I liked the cherry jam especially. There could have been a bit less frangipane and a bit more jam. The crust was awesome — perfect for a pie crust. I’d definitely eat it again. [Note to new readers: He’ll eat everything again. This is not a picky eater.]
Hundreds of other Daring Bakers tried this recipe too, so go see what they did with it. And if you want to try it yourself, please do. It’s a perfect summer dessert.
Bakewell Tart … er … Pudding
Makes one 23cm (9†tart)
Prep time: less than 10 minutes (plus time for the individual elements)
Resting time: 15 minutes
Baking time: 30 minutes
Equipment needed: 23cm (9â€) tart pan or pie tin (preferably with ridged edges), rolling pin
One quantity sweet shortcrust pastry (recipe follows)
Bench flour
250ml (1cup (8 US fl. oz)) jam or curd, warmed for spreadability
One quantity frangipane (recipe follows)
One handful blanched, flaked almonds
Assembling the tart:
Place the chilled dough disc on a lightly floured surface. If it’s overly cold, you will need to let it become acclimatised for about 15 minutes before you roll it out. Flour the rolling pin and roll the pastry to 5mm (1/4â€) thickness, by rolling in one direction only (start from the centre and roll away from you), and turning the disc a quarter turn after each roll. When the pastry is to the desired size and thickness, transfer it to the tart pan, press in and trim the excess dough. Patch any holes, fissures or tears with trimmed bits. Chill in the freezer for 15 minutes.
Preheat oven to 200C/400F.
Remove shell from freezer, spread as even a layer as you can of jam onto the pastry base. Top with frangipane, spreading to cover the entire surface of the tart. Smooth the top and pop into the oven for 30 minutes. Five minutes before the tart is done, the top will be poofy and brownish. Remove from oven and strew flaked almonds on top and return to the heat for the last five minutes of baking.
The finished tart will have a golden crust and the frangipane will be tanned, poofy and a bit spongy-looking. Remove from the oven and cool on the counter. Serve warm, with crème fraîche, whipped cream or custard sauce if you wish.
When you slice into the tart, the almond paste will be firm, but slightly squidgy and the crust should be crisp but not tough.
Jasmine’s notes:
If you cannot have nuts, you can try substituting Victoria sponge for the frangipane. It’s a pretty popular popular cake, so you shouldn’t have any troubles finding one in one of your cookbooks or through a Google search. That said, our dear Natalie at Gluten a Go Go has sourced some recipes and linked to them in the related alt.db thread.
You can use whichever jam you wish, but if you choose something with a lot of seeds, such as raspberry or blackberry, you should sieve them out.
The jam quantity can be anywhere from 60ml (1/4 cup) to 250ml (1cup), depending upon how “damp†and strongly flavoured your preserves are. I made it with the lesser quantity of home made strawberry jam, while Annemarie made it with the greater quantity of cherry jam; we both had fabulous results. If in doubt, just split the difference and spread 150ml (2/3cup) on the crust.
Annemarie’s notes:
The excess shortcrust can be rolled out and cut into cookie-shapes (heck, it’s pretty darned close to a shortbread dough).
225g (8oz) all purpose flour
30g (1oz) sugar
2.5ml (½ tsp) salt
110g (4oz) unsalted butter, cold (frozen is better)
2 (2) egg yolks
2.5ml (½ tsp) almond extract (optional)
15-30ml (1-2 Tbsp) cold water
Sift together flour, sugar and salt. Grate butter into the flour mixture, using the large hole-side of a box grater. Using your finger tips only, and working very quickly, rub the fat into the flour until the mixture resembles bread crumbs. Set aside.
Lightly beat the egg yolks with the almond extract (if using) and quickly mix into the flour mixture. Keep mixing while dribbling in the water, only adding enough to form a cohesive and slightly sticky dough.
Form the dough into a disk, wrap in cling and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes
Jasmine’s notes:
I make this using vanilla salt and vanilla sugar.
If you wish, you can substitute the seeds of one vanilla bean, one teaspoon of vanilla paste or one teaspoon of vanilla extract for the almond extract
Cream butter and sugar together for about a minute or until the mixture is primrose in colour and very fluffy. Scrape down the side of the bowl and add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. The batter may appear to curdle. In the words of Douglas Adams: Don’t panic. Really. It’ll be fine. After all three are in, pour in the almond extract and mix for about another 30 seconds and scrape down the sides again. With the beaters on, spoon in the ground nuts and the flour. Mix well. The mixture will be soft, keep its slightly curdled look (mostly from the almonds) and retain its pallid yellow colour.
Annemarie’s notes:
Add another five minutes or more if you’re grinding your own almonds or if you’re mixing by hand. (Heaven help you.)
This sounded great, even with the pineapple. I really wanted to make it. But I also had to make this month’s Daring Bakers challenge this week, and there was just no way to justify both. Go read about hundreds of versions of the Coconut-Roasted Pineapple Dacquoise on hundreds of other blogs, and come back Saturday for the Daring Bakers unveiling!
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.
I forgot to buy puff pastry at the good grocery store. They didn’t have any at the bad grocery store. We didn’t have any yummy Parisian Apple Tartlets.
But I guarantee you that there will be some amazing ones at the other TWD blogs, and Jessica of My Baking Heart will have the recipe.
I’ll try to do better next week, although the scheduled recipe calls for peaches and they’re not in season here yet, so I’m not hopeful!
I have been waiting for someone to choose this recipe for Tuesdays With Dorie since the day I bought the book. This cake — cinnamon-flavored batter with a vein of chocolate and cinnamon-sugar, topped with a pure chocolate frosting — sounded like everything a cake should be, and I wanted it.
I got it.
I was going to make it for breakfast, but circumstances intervened and we had it for dessert instead. So I didn’t add or subtract anything from the recipe at all, except to make the cappuccino variation. (Mmmm, coffee and cinnamon and chocolate.)
I cut the ingredients in half and made six cupcakes; they baked for about 25 minutes. About 15 minutes out of the oven the cupcake I cracked open was warm and airy and exuding cinnamon: absolutely marvelous. I could have eaten all six cupcakes right there, leaving my poor family bereft.
But I didn’t. I’m a good person, really.
I let them cool and put them away all nice and airtight, and there they sat for 20 hours or so.
The next day #1 Son was kind enough to make and apply the frosting. I neglected to tell him that I wanted milk chocolate frosting, so he made dark (as written). Then he made more with milk, for me. Isn’t he a darling?
And the frosting worked! I looked at the ingredients — just chocolate and butter, melted together — and I couldn’t figure out how that was going to turn into frosting. It was magic, I guess.
I didn’t try a cupcake with dark chocolate, but the milk was pretty darn good. It meshed perfectly with the flavor and texture of the cake. I would eat many more of these, given a chance.
Husband: When they were warm, they were incredibly light and gave off this great cinnamon fog, in a good way — you could smell and taste it, but it wasn’t overpowering. The second day they had densed up and a lot of that cinnamon freshness was gone. But it was really quite good with the frosting, and it’s hard to say, ultimately, which way I preferred it. I know I should have preferred the dark frosting — and I generally do prefer dark chocolate — but at least the way it was tonight, the milk was much more of a marriage.
#1 Son: Much better warm. They were too sweet the next day, and lost most of their cinnamon flavor. The frosting was interesting, but a little heavy. [He put raisins on his. Always with the fruit!]
#2 Son: Better warm, and a very subtle undertone of cinnamon the next day. The frosting was … well, it was fudge. The milk chocolate one was just too sweet.
Too sweet. Hah! But he’s right — it was essentially fudge. And fudge is good.
What kind of crazy world is it where a 12-year-old boy tells a 41-year-old woman that something is too sweet?
Anyway, go check out the myriad variations that will no doubt grace the pages of the TWD bloggers. And go buy the book so you can make this cake yourself (or visit Tracey’s Culinary Adventures; Tracey chose the recipe for us this week, and she’ll have the details). Bon appetit!
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:
2 tablespoons (30 ml) golden rum
3 tablespoons (45 ml) raisins
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
â…“ 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
1â…“ cups (200 g) unbleached flour
â…› 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.
