Towering, craggy and full of inviting nooks and crannies, this mountain of white chocolate and sour cherry scones is one that cries out to be scaled.
Baked by the estimable David Lebovitz, they are, as OutKast might sing, the prototype for the perfect scone, studded with an abundance of cherries, dusted with just the enough sugar for a satisfying crunch and harboring untold depths of white chocolate.
Lebovitz admits to devouring almost two batches in the space of a week; based upon the evidence presented above, who could blame him?
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:
Oh, rhubarb. While a stalk of asparagus or bunch of ramps may inspire foodies to rhapsodize about the promise and bounty of spring, it's rhubarb that so neatly captures the caprice and delicacy of the new season. Treat the green and fuchsia stalks right and they'll reward you with bright, sweet-tart benevolence. Do them wrong and risk the slings and arrows of sour mush. The line between edible and execrable is a precarious and fine one, and should be approached with caution.
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.
As a kid, I was possessed by a raging sweet tooth. When I finally kicked that addiction, I thought my days of lavish baked goods were behind me, but it turns out that's not the case. However, now I'm not sitting down to eat a bunch in one sitting -- I'm a slave to making them.
With 12 friends who all have birthdays in May, this is the busiest baking month for me. The requests for my tender, moist, yellow cake layered thick with dark chocolate ganache, toasted coconut or dulce de leche filling start coming in around the end of April.
So much of baked goods' appeal hinges on their visual charm. Since my Granny passed on her cake decorating kit to me this year, I thought I'd see if I could remember what she taught me, even though I'm not an ace with the pastry bag like she is. I found that decorating cakes isn't hard, and you don't have to be a pro like Granny to make something simple and gorgeous for the birthday guy or gal.
Read on for Jennifer's sweet, simple cupcake recipes and decorating tips.
Sure, many folks go to an Alice B. Toklas place when creative brownie making is mentioned, but for a goody two-shoes like me (with a cop pal as my afternoon's company to boot!), there's much swoony satisfaction in a recipe that highlights some of my favorite legal vices. I'm hardly the first to alight at bacon brownies, but I decided to borrow a step from the bourbon balls I'm often rolling up 'round this time of year for holiday party purposes. A double-soak -- once pre and once mid-toasting of a half cup of pecans in bourbon, and a swap-in of the nut-infused bourbon for the traditional vanilla brings a slightly tipsy edge to a deeply fudgy brownie. A grind of fresh black pepper (inspired by a Chanterelle Staff Meals brownie recipe, which credited the technique to Maida Heatter) strums the palate to life; a subtle note of smoked salt lets the bolder bacon sing.
Had there not been half a foot of snow atop my grill cover, I'd have seen what came of an attempt to tobacco-smoke the pecans and chocolate, but for now, these are more than sufficiently wicked.
It's old news that sexist stereotypes have long been used to sell everything from cigarettes to cars to chicken wings. But this new Hardee's (the fast-food chain also called Carl's Jr.) commercial, which I saw on prime time last night, is particularly sick-making.
Fort those of you who can't watch YouTube at work, I'll summarize: A bunch of 20-something dudes are sitting on a couch in a Generic Bachelor Pad (dart board on wall, football posters), watching NASCAR. Another guy, clad in flannel shirt and baseball cap, ambles up from the kitchen, looking pleased with himself and holding a tray of excellent-looking, golden biscuits. "Hey guys, who wants some fresh biscuits?" he asks.
Evil Mad Scientist Laboratories came up with a genius idea for making baked goods a bit more 3-D. They created edible googly eyes by using empty gelatin pill capsules with big, round sprinkles inside. Could they be any more adorable?
I decided to give this technique a go to create some Halloween cupcakes. The hardest part about it was finding the empty gel caps, and that wasn't even very hard. I at first thought that they would sell them at a drug store. Wrong. They are sold at natural foods stores where people use them to make their own herbal pills.
Sure, a few of my friends mocked me for walking out of a store with a tons of empty gel caps. Was I becoming a druggie? The end result was worth any mocking, though.
I'd love to see what creative uses Slashfood readers can come up with for this idea. If you try it out, let me know!
Last night, I baked a batch of brownies. As I read through the recipe in order to prep all my ingredients, I noticed the words at the top of the recipe "Preheat oven to 325 degrees." However, in my hurry to keep going, I neglected to turn the oven on until just before I poured the batter in the pan. I quickly cranked it up, but I could tell it hadn't reached temperature by the time I put the brownies in the oven. Half an hour later when I took them out, they were perfect, with a delicate, crisp crust on top and dense and fudge-y inside.
I recently came across a couple of online articles about the importance (or lack thereof) of preheating your oven. It seems that it is mostly a tradition that comes from the past, when people baked in wood or coal-powered ovens and so getting the fuel up to temperature was the important part. These days, with our fairly accurate gas or electric ovens, the need to get the fire going has been eliminated. However, we've never given up the ceremony of preheating our ovens. Now that we're in days in which fuel and energy costs are rising with each bill, maybe it's time to truly rethink our preheating habit.
Thinking about it, I do believe that my brownies would have come out just as well if I hadn't preheated at all.
The Georgian Feast is now officially my favorite cookbook. I've been meaning to get around to making the spice bread, Nazuki, for a while now and I'm glad I finally did. This one made the house smell so fabulously delicious that I'd make a killing if I could bottle the scent. Next time I sell my house, I'm making Nazuki every day (in case you didn't get the "Good Eats" reference, Alton did an episode where the premise was to make sticky buns for a nice homey aroma in the house so it would sell more quickly).
As with most of the recipes I've tried from my Georgian cookbook, this one was pretty simple. The author calls for active dry yeast, but that needs to be bloomed prior to use and adds an extra step. I just substitute instant yeast, aka bread machine or rapid rise, which can be mixed in with everything else. That way, all you have to do is throw everything in a bowl and mix it all up in one step (called the straight dough method).
My sister could not wait for the Nazuki to come out of the oven, and she cut into it as soon as it was cool. Sadly, my Georgian friend has been pretty busy this week, so he didn't get to try it and tell me if I got it right. Either way, it's delicious, and it will definitely be one of my holiday breads this year. Check out the gallery, and the recipe is after the jump.
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.