Only on your birthday.

In a perfect world I could serve a cake with one slice missing. I could make a cake in the daylight hours, cut a slice out and spend 20 minutes taking pictures, changing settings, creating the scene around the plate. In this way I could photograph properly; in the right light, at my leisure, before people arrive instead of quickly rushing to snap pictures and then scurrying off with a slice for a rushed mini photo shoot while everyone else eats and mingles. If I could just take one slice out I wouldn't have to worry that my pictures won't come out in the dim evening light. If I could just take one slice out, I could even put it back untouched. I could be clever about it and spread the frosting just so.* Then no one would notice right away. They may, however, find it strange when they don't see me snapping away at the shutter and would quickly discover what had transpired. Of course since it's a perfect world, it would be okay.  

However, since we don't live in a perfect world, and I can't actually take a slice out of a cake made for someone else, I reserve this right for my own birthday cake. 

It's my birthday, it's my cake, I made it, I do what I want. 

I took a piece out this afternoon, photographed it and ate it, right there as I was lying on the floor with the camera. Then without even thinking twice I cut another one and ate that too. 

If I had predicted what part of this cake I would like best I easily would have guessed the frosting; but when I tasted it, it was not the frosting, but the actual cake that demanded another taste. Sure the frosting complemented it nicely but it was the cake that I wanted to keep eating bite by delectable bite.

I'm not sure why I made a carrot cake. It's certainly not my favorite cake but something pulled me to it. When I thought of what I would make for today, I didn't even blink twice. This was it, I was certain - I wanted this cake. My mouth must have already known the warm autumn flavor that awaits, my nose already taking in the rich cinnamon emanating from my oven and lingering on as it bakes. I think it was the frosting that caught my attention, after all what sounds better than fresh ricotta lightly sweetened with maple syrup?? In the end though, the frosting was a bit disappointing, forgettable, the maple flavor almost too faint to detect. On the other hand the cake, well the cake was perfect. Moist and richly flavored with cinnamon, the prefect texture thanks to finely ground carrots instead of coarsely grated. I did as Shannalee suggested and baked it the day before to let the flavors come together, don't skip this step and you too will posses a deep seated need to cut a slice (or two) before you serve it to anyone else. Just remember, only on your birthday.

*This is sort of like the cut-a-piece-of-cake-from-middle-and-fill-it-with-frosting trick 

Spelt Carrot Cake

Adapted from Ripe the Organic Grocer via Food Loves Writing

I used a 10-inch spring form pan because I didn't want to buy a 9-inch round - either works fine.

Replace the white whole wheat flour with white spelt flour to make this gluten free. Next time I might even just try 100% whole grain spelt flour.

1 cup white whole wheat flour

1 cup whole grain spelt flour

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 cups raw turbinado sugar

2 teaspoons baking soda

3 large eggs

3/4 cup olive oil

1 pound carrots processed finely in a food processor

Preheat the oven to 350° F. Mix dry ingredients together in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, mix eggs lightly. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients, and add egg and oil, and mix through. Add grated carrot, then mix till combined. Bake in a greased nine-inch-round cake pan lined with greased parchment paper, for around 35 to 45 minutes. Cool for 10 minutes before removing from tin.

Ricotta Maple Frosting

To address my disappointment in the frosting - next time I'm going to try smoothing out the ricotta in a food processor and straining it in cheesecloth (the way I would for cannoli filling). Then beating it with vanilla and maple syrup and gradually adding just a bit of powered sugar to thicken it as needed. If its not too thin without the powered sugar then I'll leave that out and add 1 extra tablespoon of maple syrup instead. For now I have left the recipe as is.

2 cups fresh ricotta

3 tablespoons pure maple syrup

1 teaspoon vanilla

Mix ingredients together with a spoon

Frost cake.

An August Sun.

Have you ever noticed how the sun feels different in different seasons or even during the same one. Sometimes it's a gradual change and sometimes it's a quick flip flop. You go to bed one night exhausted from the humidity and wake up the next morning to the forgiving dry heat of late summer. The air is less heavy, the sun is in a different place and, oh my, there is a breeze! Green tomatoes turn red, stone fruits are suddenly sweeter, and basil continues to grow in abundance. The sun is a little lower in the sky than it was at the same hour just a month before, but that's not all; somehow, some way, it's just a little different. You can't quite explain why, it's just different than it was a few days before.

Last saturday, that is precisely what happened. It was still just July 31st but I woke up to an August sun.
For me, August is the summer that I love. It's the month of fresh tomato salads and more local corn that you thought you could ever possibly eat. It's zucchini from one of the only two remaining farms in Nassau County. It's homemade pickles (recipe soon!), long bike rides and ice cream after rock climbing (soft serve please!). Best of all, it's the month of assembling foods instead of cooking them; because the best way to eat foods this fresh, is with minimal alteration.

I stumbled across Shannalees's post about peaches and basil and the recipe looked so good that it was the very next thing I ate. Coincidentally, I seem to want a cool blob of  ricotta cheese on everything that I eat these days and that's exactly what was dropped on top of her open-face sandwich.


Because I have to be difficult, I made a few of my own changes like, adding arugula, leaving off the butter and honey and swapping the sourdough for whole seeded rye (it's what I had at home). I also swapped the peach for a nectarine because, again, it's what I had at home.

Nectarines and Basil on Toast

Adapted from Food Loves Writing. 

Serves one.

One large slice whole rye bread (or whatever sliced bread you like)

Small handful baby arugula or baby spinach

One nectarine, sliced

A couple leaves of fresh basil (I picked it from my garden!)

A few blobs of ricotta (If you're near NYC I like Colabro brand the best)

Sea salt and black pepper

Toast bread. Top with arugula then sliced nectarine and basil. Drop small blobs of ricotta on top and sprinkle with sea salt and pepper. 

Enjoy immediately!

A Wednesday Story

Step One: Shake up a batch of homemade salted butter.

Step Two: Walk to the market for a pound of jambon bayonne

Step Three: Stop at a nearby french bakery for a fresh crusty baguette that is way better than any you've ever made. Get distracted by the delicious-looking lemon squares (they aren't the best you've ever had, a little sweeter than you like, but somehow you always feel compelled to order one anyway). On second thought, you'll just have an iced hazelnut coffee (truly one of the best around) and leave with the baguette you came in for in the first place.

Step Four: Assemble your jambon-beurre; rip or slice open a piece of baguette and spread one side with butter. Lay a few slices of the jambon on top of the butter - not too many, just enough for a thin layer. Throw in a handful of arugula and a slather of imported dijon mustard for a twist on the traditional. Slide the sandwiches back into the paper sleeve.

Step Five: Pack your sandwiches and lots of water into a backpack, take a friend with you, and hike multiple miles up, down and around some mountain trails. Breathe in the clean air, leave behind thoughts of traffic and the suburbs. Don't forget your camera, but try not to get caught up with taking pictures either. Remember, there is no time like the present.

Step Six: Stop at a few overlooks, look out over the edge of the cliffs. 
Step Seven: Sit down onthe smooth rocks near a small waterfall. Take out your sandwich and take a bite. Bask in the saltiness of the jambon and the creaminess of the butter - the way they contrast with the spiciness of the arugula and mustard; completed by the way the crust, that it's all pressed between, shatters with each bite.

Step Eight: Drink plenty of water it's pretty hot outside. 
Step Nine: Look around for the wild blueberries that you know won't be ripe for at least another month - probably two. Search anyway just in case, by some fluke, they are ripe early. Find them, they are still quite green. 
Step Ten: Pack up your stuff and hike to the other side of the lake. Poke your head inside a dilapidated house, stop to notice the flowers, lay out in the sun just a few minutes more.

Step Eleven: Head back to suburban sprawl via an over-crowded highway, don't let the traffic ruin your day.

Jambon-Beurre 

If making you're own butter doesn't appeal to you, just be sure to purchase a high quality fresh, salted buter. Something in a tub not shaped like a stick - preferably freshly packed and local. Imported from France would be okay as well. If you have trouble finding Jambon Bayonne, a more common variation is the spanish version called Jamon Serrano or of course the italian prosciutto. I think that jambon and jamon are both a little drier (in a good way) than the prosciutto available near me. Just be sure to ask the price before they slice it, I almost accidentally ended up with a Jamon Iberico; another spanish variation cut only from black iberico pigs, that was $150 a pound! Serves 2

1 French Baguette

1 lb Jambon Bayonne or Prosciutto

Salted Butter (see headnote)

1 Very Large Handful Baby Arugula

Imported Dijon Mustard (I like Maille or Hediard)

Slice the baguette open length wise and spread the bottom half with butter. Layer Jambon thinly on top of the butter and spread lightly with dijon mustard (on the ham not the bread). Top with arugula and close the Sandwich. 

Always, always strain the ricotta.

Cooking and baking in my Dad's house is taking a little bit of getting used to. He has a pretty large, absolutely gorgeous kitchen with a fantastic gas stove, but nothing is set up my way and I've been tripping and stumbling my way through even basic day to day cooking. I've gotten so used to working in my what used to be my tiny cramped kitchen in Binghamton, that everything was like a well choreographed dance. I knew where everything was, where everything went, and most of the time everything was in it's place. It was small, so I learned to be neat and clean up as I went; but now, faced with all this wonderful granite counter space, I've forgotten everything I've learned. Now, I have things on every counter, I search for a spatula and I have no idea what flours (probably none), sugars and spices are in the cabinets. 

My idea of pantry staples are entirely different from his. My must haves include at least 3 kinds of flour, 2 kinds of sugar, various extracts, a couple pounds of butter (frozen), dried beans, vegetables (fresh and frozen), fruit, a variety of nuts, good quality baking chocolate, some grains, yogurt and low fat cottage cheese. His are something along the lines of 7 different cheeses, sandwich bread, bagels, pasta, store-bought soups, the phone to dial for takeout and his car keys to just straight-up go out for dinner. The only pantry staples I think we agree on are eggs and coffee.

Pictures courtesy of Nathalie Defrenne

Anyway, now I'm rambling but the point of all this is that I forgot to strain the ricotta before I made it into cannoli filling. I forgot to strain the ricotta because it didn't even occur to me to check the cabinet for cheesecloth. It didn't even occur to me, because why in the world would someone who doesn't bake anything have cheesecloth?

Well, it turns out there was not one but two packages of it in the drawer from  the last time I made ricotta cheese. I found it by accident after it was already too late. I mixed all the right ingredients and it tasted like cannoli filling, but the consistency was far too loose. I made a new batch and mixed them together to firm it up. The consistency still wasn't quite right but no one else noticed the difference.

Picture courtesy of Nathalie Defrenne

The lesson in all of this? Alway, always strain the ricotta. Oh, and don't forget the mascarpone. I've been so focused on the ricotta, I've forgotten to tell you about the most important part - it's the key ingredient and what makes a good cannoli, an amazing cannoli. 

Pictures courtesy of Nathalie Defrenne

This brings me to the shells. Maybe one day I will try making my own shells, but for now, I bought them. I'm just not interested in messing around with deep frying anything. Most bakeries are more than willing to sell you the empty shells and in the event that you can't find them - order them from Cannoli By Mail. There are very few bakeries in Binghamton so I ordered the mini shells online last weekend and they were very fresh. Now that I'm back downstate, bakeries abound and I simply stopped by my favorite french bakery this morning.

Cannolis

I used  fresh full-fat ricotta cheese but I suspect a good quality part skim would work just as well. Filling can be made ahead and stored in the fridge for a day or two but don't fill the cannolis until you are ready to serve them (or no more than 4 hours in advance). Makes enough to fill 70 mini or 35 regular size shells.

4 cup mascarpone

4 cups whole milk ricotta

2 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp almond extract

3-5 cups confectioner's sugar plus more for dusting

mini chocolate chips (optional)

70 mini or 35 regular size cannoli shells

Fold the cheesecloth so that it is several layers thick. Place the ricotta in the center, wrap it up and squeeze as much liquid out as you can. Put the strained ricotta in a food processor and process until smooth (about 20 seconds).

Combine the ricotta, mascarpone, vanilla and almond extracts in the bowl of a stand mixer and beat until combine. Beat in 3 cups of confectioner's sugar and taste the filling. Add more sugar to taste for sweetness and proper consistency. It should be looser than a buttercream but thick enough to hold it's shape when piped.

Pour the mini chocolate chips on to a small plate and set aside.

Using a pastry bag (or in my case a large ziploc bag) and large decorating tip piped the filling into each end of the cannolis. 

Dip each end of each cannoli into the chocolate chips to coat.

Sprinkle cannolis with powdered sugar and serve immediately.

What's Next?

I've been getting this question a lot lately. So much so that I just might scream. Obviously the thing to ask someone when they graduate college is what next? If I had a concrete answer, I may not dislike the question so much, but rambling on about lifeguarding, and wishful thinking about a move to Brooklyn in the near further doesn't really make a fantastic impression on people. Never the less, I'm sure you are all wondering the same thing and since Kate asked me the other day anyway, I might as well put the question to rest.

In June, I'll be traveling for 3 weeks through South Caucasus with a quick weekend in Hungary on my way home. After that, I'll be back in New York lifeguarding for the summer (hello tan) and looking for a real job - something with the (sustainable?) food industry, maybe a magazine or something developing/writing about recipes, basically whatever I can find. I'm also taking a web design class because there are so many things I want to do with this blog and I just have no idea how to do any of them.

Anyway, back to June and traveling because it's way more exciting than my lack of a job. I've been thinking for a little while how I'm going to handle this blog while I'm away. I will not have my computer with me, but my friend Jocelyn will. Internet, however, will be spotty. I also don't want to get too bogged down with it, so my posts will be sporadic. They will probably change from recipes to something more like a food review and of course pictures whenever I can. They may be cell phone pictures published directly from flickr, but hey, I do what I can.
Even though I have 2 memory cards, I'm going to have to dump the pictures off my camera at least once, so hopefully I'll have internet at that time and I'll post a few real pictures.

I've also added this neat little Current Location widget on the left side of this page so that you can see what city I'm in and follow my trip. I should be able to update this as well as twitter from my blackberry but, again, I'm not sure how much network coverage I will have. I guess what I'm trying to say is those three weeks will be a bit up in the air so just bare with me okay? Once thing I can promise is I will take a ton of pictures, eat lots of delicious things and share both with you when I return.
Now back to May, I have a completely unrelated recipe to share. I made this raspberry fruit tart last Saturday and it was quite a hit.

Before you write this off as a complicated tart with a fussy dough just read it through, I promise its so much quicker and simpler than you think.
I used my favorite french tart dough because it's beyond easy (read: no food processor, chilling, or rolling pin) and reliably delicious. It's recipe adapted from Paule Caillat of Promenades Gourmandes via David Lebovitz. I followed David's version exactly so I won't rewrite it, instead you can just click here. 

The most complicated part was the pastry cream, but really, even that was easy. I don't know why people make such a fuss about pastry cream. I did have a small panic attack when the I added the tempered egg mixture back to the heat and it became lumpy but, as soon as I took a whisk to it, it smoothed out nicely.


For the fruit you can really use any berry that you like or a combination of berries and kiwi. No apples or melon - that might be a little weird. I planned on doing mixed berries but at the last second decided on just red raspberries.
Lucky me, I had exactly 1/2 cup left of homemade red currant jelly that a friend (hi Sandy!) gave me earlier in the year. I used that for the glaze - don't you just love when things work out like that? I swear it makes my whole day.The pastry cream can be made a day or two in advance and stored in the refrigerator. Make sure to place saran-wrap directly on the surface of the pastry cream to keep a skin from forming. The tart shell can also be baked the day before, I stored mine in the tart pan, wrapped in saran-wrap, inside my covered cake platter. Whatever you do, do not fill and glaze the tart until you are ready to serve it. I had to put mine together about 3 hours ahead of time and it turned out fine, but I wouldn't suggest too much longer than that.

Raspberry Fruit Tart

Makes 1 9-inch tart

1 pre-baked french tart shell

1 batch pastry cream (see below)

2-3 pints red raspberries

1/2 cup red currant jelly

To assemble the tart: 

 Spread cold pastry cream over bottom of the cooled tart shell, using offset spatula or large spoon. Arrange fruit on top of the cream following a design if you like. I just filled every possible space with a raspberry.

To glaze the tart:

Bring jelly to boil in small saucepan over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally to smooth out lumps. When boiling and completely melted, apply by dabbing and flicking onto fruit with pastry brush; add 1 teaspoon water and return jelly to boil if it becomes too thick to drizzle. (Tart can be refrigerated, uncovered up to 3 or 4 hours). Remove outer metal ring of tart pan, slide thin metal spatula between bottom of crust and tart pan bottom to release, then slip tart onto cardboard round or serving platter; serve.

Pastry Cream

From Cooks Illustrated / Makes enough for 1 9-inch tart.

Chalazae are cordlike strands of egg white protein that are attached to the yolks—removing them with your fingers is easy and eliminates the need to strain the pastry cream after cooking. 

2 cups half-and-half

1/2 cup granulated sugar

pinch table salt

5 large egg yolks , chalazae removed (see headnote)

3 tablespoons cornstarch

4 tablespoons unsalted butter (cold), cut into 4 pieces

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Heat half-and-half, 6 tablespoons sugar, and salt in medium heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat until simmering, stirring occasionally to dissolve sugar.

Meanwhile, whisk egg yolks in medium bowl until thoroughly combined. Whisk in remaining 2 tablespoons sugar and whisk until sugar has begun to dissolve and mixture is creamy, about 15 seconds. Whisk in cornstarch until combined and mixture is pale yellow and thick, about 30 seconds.

When half-and-half mixture reaches full simmer, gradually whisk simmering half-and-half into yolk mixture to temper. Return mixture to saucepan, scraping bowl with rubber spatula; return to simmer over medium heat, whisking constantly, until 3 or 4 bubbles burst on surface and mixture is thickened and glossy, about 30 seconds. Off heat, whisk in butter and vanilla. Transfer mixture to medium bowl, press plastic wrap directly on surface, and refrigerate until cold and set, at least 3 hours or up to 48 hours.