Try saying this three times fast: Chocolate Mousse, Salted Caramel Ganache, Peanut and Banana Caramel Tart. As difficult as it may be to say, it looks like a breeze to eat (three times fast, of course).
Baked by Aran at Cannelle et Vanille, these diminutive beauties have almost as many complex layers as the Earth's surface. The chocolate shells are filled with a layer of banana caramel with peanuts, another layer of triple chocolate salted caramel ganache, and then crowned with a cloud of chocolate mousse.
The whole is garnished with cocoa powder, chocolate shavings and chopped peanuts. Eat. Await indescribable bliss.
These measuring spoons from Beehive Kitchenware are undeniably lovely: their silvery sheen and restrained floral imprint make them the kind of kitchen utensil that belongs on a wall, not in a crowded drawer. And because they're pewter, they've got real heft: these are spoons whose style matches their substance.
But. There are those who would argue that the winsome charms of these spoons are rendered all but irrelevant by the thin copper ring that holds them all together. It's a small detail, yes, but to many measuring spoon users, a polarizing one.
Plenty would argue that the ring is an unnecessary annoyance that makes it all but impossible to keep all of the spoons clean, even when you're only using one. Other, pro-ring users would counter that a couple extra dirty spoons is a small price to pay for the convenience of knowing where all of your spoons are, all the time -- whether they're jammed in that overcrowded drawer or displayed on the wall as proudly as a Picasso. So vote, and hit the comments to defend your pick:
In this weekly series, home cook Bruce Watson works his way through a decades-old family cookbook, adapting the best recipes exclusively for Slashfood.
When I came across a recipe for "Swiss Squares" in my family's cookbook, I got excited. Although the dish seemed like a basic chocolate cake recipe, it used sour cream for leavening. As this is a pretty uncommon choice, I wanted to see its effect on the product.
Overall, I found that the bars were a bit richer than expected, with a nice moist crumb. In my finished version, I massively increased the chocolate and dolled up the frosting. Still, at its heart, this is a recipe for a rich chocolate cake. Then again, even the simplest cake can be pretty profound!
Slicing onions makes us cry hot burning tears of pain (which is why we now cut them while wearing goggles), but this photo reminded us yet again that, where onions are concerned, "no pain, no gain." This is particularly true when the results are these gorgeous white onion and pecorino tarts.
Baked by Madalene, the mastermind behind The British Larder, the tarts contrast the lush sweetness of caramelized onions with the sharp bite of pecorino, providing delectable proof that opposites do indeed attract. They are stunning in their simplicity: Rather than (ahem) tart them up, Madalene opts to showcase the onion's whorled, earthy beauty. These look less like tarts than some sort of exotic blossoms, and right now we're plotting ways to make them bloom in our own kitchen.
Some cooks reach for Sriracha, the ubiquitous Thai hot sauce, in a pinch. Others swear by soy sauce. And then there are those who refuse to reveal (*cough, cough* butter) what made the dish you just demolished delicious. For our part, we've developed a tiny -- OK, midsized -- crush on an infused chili oil, and we need to talk about it.
Sid Wainer & Son's Domaine de Provence pepper-spiked oil is fantastic. A drizzle of the fiery goodness rescues storebought and homemade guacamole alike with a heady, late-blooming heat on the palate. According to owner Henry Wainer, it's also tasty on bruschetta. We plan to carry it on our person all summer -- potentially awkward in the 90-degree swelter -- using guerilla tactics to douse any crustaceans and pork we spy sizzling on the grills of party hosts. (Brooklyn, consider yourself warned.)
Wainer has been equally passionate about the oil since meeting its producer at a dinner in France 18 years ago. Such culinary serendipity, he declares, "enriches the world." Can't argue with that.
We can't swear to it, but we suspect that this Momofuku Milk Bar Volcano was sent here from Planet Chang either to teach us or to enslave us. We can't be certain of its purpose, but what we do know is that all the breakfast food bravado we've flaunted up to this point -- Brooklyn deli egg and cheese bombs, full-on Irish black and white pudding spreads, Meatnormous® BK sammies and half-sow Bellagio Buffet crepes laid waste to in short order -- meant diddly squat as we stood at the Volcano's lip and by God, were afraid.
Chef David Chang's co-conspiritor Christina Tosi works the sweet end of the Momofuku Ssam Bar's East Village space at Milk Bar, turning out scrumdiddilyumtious sun-dense cornflake-chocolate chip cookies, dentist-scoffing Crack Pie and soft-serve cereal milk ice creams by the bucketload. We thought we had her all figured out, and there she had to go tossing out double-dog-dare words like "savory" and "volcano." Dang.
Turns out the steaming, softball-sized item is essentially a knish stuffed to rumbling with potato gratin, Gruyere, Benton's bacon, caramelized onions and a good 20 or so minutes off the average human's lifespan. No worries -- contrary to today's New York Times' $25 and Under assessment, we found its hefty, tangy slather of Mornay sauce to be more than adequate compensation for the latter.
We're not ashamed to admit that we were bested and could not conquer the Volcano in one sitting, or even without assistance from concerned colleagues, but we learned and we grew as people (or perhaps that last part was just our thighs.)
No matter. What we'd like to know is this -- how much can you manage to chow down in the morning? Are you after daybreak fare that sticks to your ribs or does coffee alone keep you fueled until lunchtime? Take the poll, and as always, comment away.
If there was one thing that challenged Key West's proliferation of key lime pies, it was rum cakes. For a while, the Tortuga Rum Company had a little shop on the island -- not only offering a proliferation of cakes to purchase, but every flavor waiting in bins to sample. It was, simply, the most wonderful way to pick sweets to buy.
That store is no longer there, but the cakes continue to haunt shelves across the island. Unfortunately, they're not easy to come by in most other areas, unless you've got a good deal of cash saved up to order the $30-plus large cake online.
That means we must do our best to replicate, and at least one recipe gets close -- Recipe Zaar's Almost Tortuga Rum Cake.
The first seasonal strawberries appear as early as April. The deliciously tart fruit we've come to know today originated in grassy woodlands all over Europe. Find out how to transform these red, ripe, sweet and succulent treats of nature into fabulous desserts.
Strawberries taste delicious eaten plain with a glass of champagne. But in a pie, their juiciness creates a distinctly bitter-sweet flavor that sits on the palate and seems to melt into the pie crust.
Strawberries taste especially rich when paired with milky desserts, like panna cotta and mascarpone. Or, simply add slices of strawberries to a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
This candy-like fruit easily creates a sweet distinctive jam without adding any pectin. Below are eight especially delicious strawberry desserts to try at home:
Two and a half months in, I can see through the Biscuit Matrix.
When I embarked upon my trawl toward biscuit perfection at the dawn of aught-nine, it was from a flat, sad, bitter place, indeed. Rather than crispy-footed, larded puffs of sweetly steaming layers reaching -- straining ever heavenward, my oven yielded depressing, molar-cracking pucks I refused to inflict upon my entirely un-picky dogs. Now my biscuits rock, and I'm pretty sure it's a matter of methodology rather than recipe.
Here's what I've learned after a couple dozen batches, and plenty of advice from Slashfood commenters, Facebook friends, cookbooks and Southern grandmas:
- Store the flour in the freezer, and sift it before measuring, even if it says "pre-sifted" on the bag. This has a direct effect upon the density. An overall low temperature keeps fat from heating, so use every opportunity to bring the chill. 3 1/2 - 4 cups of flour scooped straight from the bag can yield 5 cups after sifting. It makes a significant difference. Thus far, Southern Biscuit Self-Rising and White Lily All-Purpose have been very good to me.
- Whisk dry ingredients together, rather than stirring, in order to maintain airiness.
- Don't skimp on the salt, and even if it's not called for in the recipe, toss in a pinch of sugar to aid with a crunchy crust.
It's March 14 - 3/14 - which, as all you Mathletes know, means it's Pi Day! Yes, once again the celebration of the ratio of a circle's circumference to it's diameter is upon us. Let's all give it up for 3.14159265...!
For those of us without the extra gig of memory in our brains for the big pi-reciting contest, we can always bake a pi pie, such as the lovely cherry example above from Megpi at Flickr (note that a few numbers are backwards). Do a Google image search for "pi pie" to see many, many more.
Just the other day, Toronto celebrated its 175th birthday. The celebration kicked off a whole slew of "all the amazing things to do in the T-dot" type posts, but it also inspired a bake-off over at Torontoist, where readers had to bake "a cupcake that says 'Toronto.'" It once again proves that professional cake bakers aren't the only ones who can whip up stunning baked goods.
There are some really amazing city incarnations over there, from a series of fondant-covered cupcakes that layout parts of the city, to the spray of lights at Honest Ed's, to one that's as simple as outlining the city's subway system -- and they all come with a brief description.
But there's also the one above, which is too sweet to ignore. We all know the feeling -- having high hopes and aspirations, and then suffering as the kitchen knocks us back down to reality with failed visions, broken dishes, and big messes. Ah, baking!
If you were going to celebrate your city on a cupcake, what would it look like?
Last month I was determined to make an ice cream cake for a friend of mine. See, he hates most sweets, but in one conversation he told me how much he loved mint chocolate chip ice cream. Ding ding! Months later, I was prepping my first ice cream cake.
It's a task that feels Herculean, but is actually quite manageable -- if you've got the time, space, and planning squared away. If you don't, I assure you -- you'll quickly melt into a panic. For me, I just about did when that early February day, the one that should've been frigid and cold, spiked up to warm spring temperatures. Luckily, it all came together. But I wanted to make it easier on you. What follows are some basics and then a list of tips, because as much as you can find ice cream cakes on the Internet, very few deal with homemade cakes and homemade ice cream. So read on, good luck, and be sure to leave any tips or questions in the comments!
The Jewish festival of Purim starts today, bringing with it one of my longtime culinary bugaboos - the hamantaschen. These cookies, meant to resemble the tricorned hat of Haman, the villain of the Purim story, consist of a buttery dough folded around a generous dollop of filling - usually jam, chocolate chips or sweetened poppy seed paste. Sounds good, right? But alas nearly ever hamantaschen I've tried has been awful - sticky, heavy, bland. I've been testing recipes ever since I was a little kid baking in the synagogue kitchen during Sunday School, but have yet to hit on one that's worth the cost of the flour.
Today, however, I'm seeing a glimmer of hope on the hamantaschen front. In a post on the New York Times' Bitten Blog, Deborah Gardner offers her grandmother's own recipe. These gorgeous, golden hamantaschen have "tender, lemon-zest-flavored dough...a far cry from the thick, dry shell of most hamantaschen, and the tart filling perfectly offsets the sweet crumb. These are the kind of hamantaschen for which any self-respecting prune would be happy to meet its maker," Gardner promises.
We can change the way we make eggs -- scrambled, poached, fried -- but what about changing the eggs themselves? Mix up your scrambling routine with quail eggs.
Try saying this three times fast: Chocolate Mousse, Salted Caramel Ganache, Peanut and Banana Caramel Tart. As difficult as it may be to say, it looks like a breeze to eat (three times fast, of course).
Second Helping of Slashfood - June 19
Competitive-Eating Contest to Pit Humans Against Elephants
The Backyard Boom - The Hungry Bride
