Zany and the Summer of the Bundt

It’s been some time since we’ve heard from my pal Zany. Who would have guessed she was singularly responsible for upping the calorie intake of the city of Chicago?  

Dear T.W.,

Greetings from the Windy City.  I’m writing to you from the finish line.  No, I didn’t run a race…but I did go on a bit of a baking marathon over the past few months.  For this, I blame you, as I often do when it comes to over-ordering and other spontaneous food adventures. 

It all started last year after I read a Culinary Types post about the love of your bundt pan.  After reading that entry I said to myself, “I don’t have a bundt pan…should I get one?”  And later that morning I waddled (you may recall last winter I was pretty pregnant) to my nearest Macy’s and purchased my very own pan.

I remember making my first bundt just a day later for a ladies lunch at my friend’s house in the burbs.  For my first recipe I used your recommendation to go with a Martha Stewart classic – the blueberry lemon bundt.

The cake received such rave reviews (my friend whose husband went to culinary school devoured it), that I decided to make it again in the spring for a work luncheon to celebrate our team’s amazing assistant.  We gathered around a table outfitted with fine china (this was no ordinary event!) and sliced into the cake.  It was so tempting that even our I-would-rather-cycle-than-eat-carbs boss had a piece.  I let him believe it was the copious amount of blueberries instead of the two sticks of butter that made the cake so moist…

And that’s when it happened. 

Everyone was marveling over the beauty of the bundt (we were comparing who did and did not have pans), and my trusty colleague DT suggested, “You should make bundts more often.”

“Yeah,” chimed in another.  “You could do a theme or something.”

Challenge accepted.

“Maybe something like a ‘summer of the bundt’,” I suggested.  “I could do a different recipe each month!”  The carb lovers rejoiced.

A few weeks later I followed up a pound cake with lemon-basil frosting from Cooking Light.  I try to balance the number of calories I bring into the office, so considering the two sticks of butter I used the last time, this was my nod to a little lighter eating.  The pound cake was nice and solid, and the frosting had a light flavoring – perfect to pair with an afternoon cup of tea.  I alerted the boss that another bundt was on the premises, but this time he kept an arm’s length. 

The next bundt was in celebration of my good friend and colleague Jonesy’s birthday.  Jonesy has an adventurous spirit, which is what I really like about her.  She also got extra points in my book when she agreed to visit a food truck for a lunch meeting (note to loyal CT readers, we ate outside).  For her, I went the old school route and made Betty Crocker’s sour cream coffee cake.  T.W., this cake is why people call things “classic.”  It was crumbly like coffee cake should be, the cinnamon swirls were my finest piece of art…and the frosting….well just look at the picture!  

Now I was in a groove.  My bundts were falling perfectly from the nonstick pan and I was earning water cooler street creds in the office.

But, for my next piece, I picked a different target – Luigi, my favorite Italian (and husband).  For those CT readers who don’t know, Luigi and I had a baby girl this past New Year’s Day…we’ll call her Sticky Hands (because her hands are ALWAYS sticky).  I really want a good mother-daughter relationship in the kitchen, so I’ve started her early.  Strapped into her activity chair, I read to Sticky the recipe for a chocolate sour cream bundt cake with chocolate ganache frosting.  It was Father’s Day and I couldn’t think of a better gift!  That night when Luigi cut into the cake it still had a little warmth.  Luigi didn’t say a word as he rapidly slid his fork through his piece until it was gone.  Only when he was done he muttered (with his head down), “You’re going to have to take some of that into work or I’m going to eat it all.”  

Bringing that cake into work was a grave mistake.  Colleagues DT and Brecks both labeled it as the best thing I had made since I started working there. 

Now I was in trouble.  Summer wasn’t over and I still had more bundts to make!  T.W., you may recall my panic attack one weekend as I struggled with which recipe to choose next.  We decided on a white chocolate raspberry bundt, because if you can’t beat a chocolate recipe, serve another!

Despite your warning about your experience with overloading / exploding berry bundts, I added a few more raspberries to this recipe – and it was worth it!  

As summer drew to a close, I had the perfect bundt finale in mind.  But a certain Chicago-based carnivore, who shall remain nameless, decided to vacate the city for weeks, so she wasn’t around for me to bake her a birthday bundt surprise!

I searched and searched for the perfect recipe, asking Sticky Hands for advice.  And as I fed her a scoop of homemade applesauce it came to me…why not honor the coming of a new season?!  Despite the 80-degree Chicago weather, last weekend I lined up my nutmeg, cloves and cinnamon to welcome autumn with an apple spice bundt and maple frosting.  Again, I read the recipe to assistant Sticky Hands…who was more interested in the cooking tools than the actual cooking.  

So, now you know what I did this summer.  But, as my colleagues reminded me, there are three other seasons in a year, so why stop now?!

Yours in condiments,

Zany  

©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

When There’s No Time For Pie – Maple Baked Apple

Apples are the rubies of the autumn season, and I carried home a tote brimming with juicy locally-grown Gala, Macintosh and Cortland apples from the Long Island Fair.  

With a bowl-full of such magnificent specimens glistening on the kitchen counter– and a crisp note in the air – it is natural that the imagination turns to apple pie.   But, a good pie takes time and must be gently nurtured through crust and filling.  Alas, my October schedule is anything but pie-friendly.

Maple Baked Apple is a fine alternative for the time-starved chef, infusing the kitchen with the tempting aroma of maple, cinnamon, butter and walnuts.   I use a baking dish from my friend Joan, especially designed for baked apple.  The center cylinder warms the apple from within, cooking it to creamy perfection.  

And, no rolling pin or flour smudges required. 

Maple Baked Apple - adapted from tasteofhome.com 

Ingredients

2 teaspoons maple syrup

1 teaspoon brown sugar

1 teaspoon chopped walnuts

1 teaspoon dried cranberries

1/8 teaspoon ground roasted cinnamon

1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg

½ teaspoon butter

Additional melted butter for basting

1 medium apple

Method

Preheat oven to 375° F.  Combine the first seven ingredients in a small bowl.  Wash and core apple, and peel the skin from the top third.  Place apple in an oven-safe baking dish and fill the apple cavity with the maple walnut mixture.   Bake for 45 minutes until tender.   Baste apple with additional melted butter halfway through baking. 

©2012 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Blackberries in Contrast

Blackberries are the chameleon of summer fruit. At Restoration Farm, they ripen from fire-engine red to inky black. Depending on the sunlight, the ripe berries can vary from shades of burgundy to deep blue to ebony.

So how best to showcase this multi-faceted jewel of the summer? A tart, silky, Buttermilk Panna Cotta offers a perfect, stark-white canvas to accentuate the dramatic good looks of the blackberry.

To make a fruit sauce to surround the panna cotta, sprinkle two cups of fresh blackberries with ¼ cup of sugar and crush some of the fruit. Leave at room temperature for one hour, stir occasionally, and a luxurious, plummy purple sauce gathers.

It is yet another distinctive mood for summer’s darkest and sweetest temptation.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Sweet and Lazy – The Blackberries of Restoration Farm

The blackberries at Restoration Farm are taking their own sweet time. They’re in no hurry to ripen. It’s summer after all. In this age of instant gratification, perhaps the blackberries are teaching us a thing or two about patience.

They are a work in progress. Ripening – by its very nature – suggests that you must wait and see what develops. Bright red berries may be flashy, but in fact they are raw and callow. Wait for inky black berries, and you’ll taste the full, deep expression of the fruit. Give it time.

I note that it is often the lone, single berry at the tip of the branch that has matured, while the less evolved cluster behind. For now we are limited to picking a pint at a time as we wait for more. There is absolutely nothing you can do to rush the rhythms of the berry patch.

So, there is no blackberry pie just yet. Maybe in August. But there is enough from the morning pickings for a single Blackberry Crisp with Candied Ginger, perfect for one with a healthy appetite, or large enough for two to share. The succulent purple juice and piquant ginger is sophisticated and adventurous - and builds a bit of decadent anticipation for what’s to come.

Blackberry Crisp for Two with Candied Ginger

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. For fruit filling, combine 1 ½ cups fresh blackberries, 1 teaspoon minced candied ginger, two teaspoons brown sugar and one teaspoon lemon juice in a small bowl. Let stand briefly and then place in a 2 cup soufflé dish.

In a small bowl, combine ¼ cup of flour, ¼ cup light brown sugar, 3 tablespoons rolled oats and a pinch of salt. Cut 2 ½ tablespoons unsalted butter into small pieces. Combine with the flour mixture. Using your fingers, rub the flour and butter mixture together until crumbly. Top the fruit filling with the flour and butter mixture (you will have some left over). Bake until topping is brown and juices are bubbling, about 25 minutes. Top with Greek yogurt and serve.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler and Celebrating Summer Solstice at Restoration Farm

I am a rhubarb neophyte. Despite the dozens of blog posts that sing the praise of rhubarb each spring, and those sexy cover stories in Gourmet magazine, I’d never tried it. My first experience actually came just this past April, where it was served as the garnish atop an odd luncheon tart at an industry function. At least I think that was rhubarb.

However, being a member of a CSA is all about new culinary journeys, and when the magenta green stalks were included in the first distribution at Restoration Farm this season, I was genuinely excited by the possibilities.

Back in my kitchen, I find there are many things to appreciate about rhubarb. It slices beautifully, and the crisp stalks pack a powerfully tart punch. Chopped rhubarb can be frozen and used in baked desserts, and it pairs particularly well with strawberries. So I dice up about a pound and place it in the freezer along with a quart of strawberries picked at Restoration Farm. I have learned that with proper planning, nothing will go to waste – and it never hurts to have some fresh-picked fruit ready to go in the freezer.

On the afternoon of Restoration Farm’s Summer Solstice Pot Luck Dinner in the field, I prepare a Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler as my contribution to the meal. Preparing the cobbler with the frozen fruit is – dare I say it – easier than pie. The tart rhubarb and sweet strawberries combine into a glossy thick garnet-pink fruit filling that is blanketed with crumbly sweet biscuit dough.

Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler

(Adapted from “From Asparagus to Zucchini – A Guide to Cooking Farm-Fresh Seasonal Produce," Madison Area CSA Coalition, 2004)

1 pound fresh or partially thawed chopped rhubarb
4 cups partially thawed strawberries (when freezing, I combined the berries with ½ cup of sugar, and reduced the amount of sugar below to ½ cup)
¾ to 1 cup of sugar
3 tablespoons of flour
1 tablespoon grated orange zest

Topping:
1 ¼ cups flour
2 tablespoons sugar
¾ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons cold butter, cut up
½ cup sour cream
3 tablespoons cream
Addition cream to brush biscuits

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Combine first five ingredients in bowl and toss fruit occasionally while you prepare the topping. Whisk flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in another bowl. Cut butter into bits and work into flour mixture. Combine sour cream and cream in small bowl and stir into flour mixture until just combined. Turn dough onto floured surface and gently knead 4-6 times. Roll dough into ½ inch thickness and cut into rounds with 2 inch biscuit cutter. Pour fruit mixture into buttered 9 inch square pan and top with biscuits. Brush biscuits with cream and bake until golden and bubbly, about 50 minutes.

At Restoration Farm, members arrive to celebrate the dawn of summer and carry all manner of dishes into the field - exquisite salads made with Restoration Farm greens, family recipes like Pastitsio and Spinach Pie, roasted vegetables, pasta salad and our friend George’s Iowa City Coffee Cake. It is a luminous late spring afternoon buffeted by soft breezes and the sky dappled with white clouds.

Head Grower Dan Holmes is resolute that farm dinners must occur as close as possible to the change in season. Indeed, there is something rhythmic and magical dining in the field on a glorious evening, partaking in food that has been grown on the farm, and enjoying a community meal together.

It is simplicity to be savored. We explore the berry patches and check on the heirloom tomatoes readying in the field up the hill. Rhubarb and strawberries are some of the early jewels of the spring growing season. As the sun sets on our farm dinner, we are more than ready for the rewards of summer.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

The Classic Covered Dish – Mary D’s Notoriously-Good Rice Pudding

I won this recipe in a blind, white wine tasting contest about ten years ago. It would have been a better story if it were a poker game, but what can you do? I’m not bad at wine tasting – better at red than white – but I had incentive to succeed. At stake was Mary D’s famous Rice Pudding Recipe, the most closely-guarded secret since Batman’s alter ego.

I’ve been friends with Mary D for more than a decade. She’s a classy, sassy blonde who teaches math to kids on Long Island (don’t mess with her), sings choral music and is an accomplished guitarist who does a kick-ass rendition of the theme from “Secret Agent Man” (among other more traditional works). She also has a wicked sense of humor. Some might call it notorious.

Mary’s Rice Pudding recipe is a classic – a signature dish and crowd pleaser that became a hotly-anticipated offering at pot lucks, holiday parties and buffets as we forged our way through life on Long Island in the mid-1990s.

There it was again at my brother’s annual Carols and Carousing party just after Christmas. Mary had brought her Rice Pudding – covered in foil – in one of those archetypal Pyrex oven-proof bowls. She’d thought of everything. Half of the pudding contained raisins, and half was plain, in case somebody at the party didn’t like raisins (try and figure out that technique!).

Some time later, I decide to give it a try and dig out the recipe, long-buried in my somewhat poorly organized “historic recipe” file. The directions are exactly what you’d expect from Mary – straight-talking and to the point. It’s not a simple recipe – and requires more than an hour of hands-on preparation.

When the pudding comes out of the oven, I dial up Mary.

“Are you ready for a rice pudding break?” I ask. “I made your recipe and I thought you might like to check it out.”

“Because I’m the Alexa Hente of rice pudding?” she asks.

“Actually, I’m a little nervous,” I admit. "You're the master."

“I’d hate to be you right now,” says Mary.

I show up on Mary’s porch that afternoon, covered dish in hand. She passes out bowls and she takes a taste. I hold my breath. Mary is not the type to gush with praise. She nods slowly and approvingly. It is good. That’s praise enough for me.

I ask her why the rice pudding became her signature dish.

“It’s traditional,” she says. “But, people don’t make pudding much anymore. I serve it warm, which is nice. It’s very comforting.”

She tells me she got a version of the recipe from a colleague some twenty-five years ago and “changed it up” a bit to make it her own.

“Most people bring Entenmann’s or Dunkin Donuts to a party,” she says. This takes time. It’s unique.”

For years, Mary has kept this recipe under lock and key, awarding it only to me after proving my nose for white wine. She’s now graciously agreed to share it with the readers of Culinary Types. And, you don’t even have to know the difference between a Pinot Grigio and a Sauvignon Blanc.

As the rice cooks, it takes on the characteristics of a creamy risotto. When the eggs are added, and the pudding is baked, it emerges from the oven a glowing, sunny-golden color. The raisins add a little attitude. Mary recommends serving slightly warm, or at room temperature.

I think you'll agree that it's a classic - just like Mary D.

Mary D’s Notoriously-Good Rice Pudding

2 cups water
1 cup rice
Dash salt
5 tablespoons butter
5 cups milk
3 eggs
¾ cup (plus a bit more) sugar
Vanilla to taste (about 2 teaspoons)
½ cup raisins (optional)

1. Boil the water. Add the butter, salt and rice. Continue boiling mixture for 7 minutes stirring often.

2. After the 7 minutes, stir mixture again making sure none is stuck to the bottom. Then add 5 cups of milk and turn flame on high for a few minutes to get things going. Keep stirring.

3. When the mixture heats up pretty well, turn heat way down and simmer covered for one hour, stirring often.

4. While that is simmering, combine eggs, sugar and vanilla and beat with a whisk until well blended. You’re gonna bake in this so you should be using a large oven-proof bowl or casserole.

5. The rice mixture is done when you’ve got a nice thick consistency. At that point, pour the rice mixture into the egg mixture stirring vigorously. When that is thoroughly mixed, add raisins and bake for 20-25 minutes at 350 degrees.

©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Strawberry and Goat Cheese Ricotta Crostini

I can’t quite shed my goat cheese obsession. The visit to Catapano Dairy Farm has me dreaming of simple and elegant ways to use goat cheese that will highlight it’s incredibly fresh and creamy flavor. I brought home a container of tart, almost fluffy ricotta goat cheese from Catapano Dairy Farm. Ah, what to do?

Lately, I’ve been consulting “The Flavor Bible” by Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg to better understand harmonious flavor combinations and affinities. The encyclopedic volume lists pages of optimum flavor matches. There it is in black and white. Ricotta cheese and strawberries are one perfect marriage.

Talk about a light and stylish dessert! Pearly-white goat cheese ricotta is spread on golden slices of semolina bread and then dressed with a layer of ripe, succulent, sliced strawberries. That’s it! Pair it with a glass of chilled ice wine or Moscato D’Asti for a magical summer treat!

©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved