Bake and Shake

Obvious, practical dessert for a 93 degree day: Berry Crisp

"He's melting all over himself...Oh my god. Oh my GOD."

Yesterday at four-thirty in the afternoon I decided I wanted to bake. It was 91 degrees.

My reasons for doing that kind of gross thing:
I had some new Buffalo China ramekins
There was no one to physically restrain me from turning on the oven

That's how awesome my brain is, son. That's some Stephen Hawking logic there. I am Doogie Howser right now. My computer has a green screen, I'm 14, and I am smarter than my dad. Let me legally change my name to Clarissa, and then I'll Explain It All. 

The ramekins or custard cups, as I like to call them, were the driving force. Two weeks ago I got it into my head that I needed some Buffalo China, either mugs or bowls, something -- My Paper Crane did a post on how her sweet sir bought two mugs from their favorite restaurant for her, for her birthday and it was all it took to drive the tangible longing for that heavy, smooth weight in my hand. I love Buffalo china, warm with liquid or out of the dishwasher, how your hands mold to it.

How you could probably smash a car windshield, and/or pie and cake case with it. Crazy things happen at three in the morning in the parking lot of your local Pie House. I'm just saying.

So I had the vessels, and then Deb over at SmittenKitchen posted about crumbles and it all came together. Her entry is wonderful, at explaining all the good things about these desserts. So why not bake a hot fruit dessert on a 91 degree day? Then I wrapped my entire body in flannel sheets and sat under a heat lamp in the bathroom with all the windows shut. And started a fire in the sink, so I could make some hobo chili.

 

A few notes:

- I halved the topping recipe, and substituted brown sugar for white sugar, omitting most of the demera sugar called for because I only had one packet of Sugar In The Raw left. Even after piling on the topping, which came together beautifully, I had enough left for another one. Just bag it up and freeze.
- Any fruit will do. Anything. I used a mixture of frozen Wild Blueberries and Raspberries, unsweetened.
- They were really, really lovely. A few dollops of vanilla frozen yogurt, and it all went down so smooth and tart, the crumble not too sweet and the berries still plump.

Deuce Berry Crisp
Adapted from Deb/Nigella Lawson

Base
1 ½ cups frozen whole, unsweetened raspberries
½ cup frozen, unsweetened wild blueberries
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon cornstarch
½ teaspoon orange zest
½ teaspoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon salt

Topping
¾ cup AP flour
4 Tablespoons brown sugar
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
½ stick European-style butter, melted
Dash of ground cinnamon
Pinch of kosher salt
Orange zest (optional, I used one "scrape" across the microplane)

Preheat your oven to 350º F. Line a small pan or baking sheet with foil or parchment, and select your baking vessels. My cups hold just around 1 cup.

Mix together the berries, cornstarch (omit the teaspoon if using fresh fruit, or leave it in depending on how cohesive you want your filling to be), orange zest, lemon zest, sugars, vanilla and salt until well combined. Divide berry mixture between each cup. This is it. At this point, you're above the law.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, sugars, cinnamon and orange zest, if using. Stream the melted butter into the mixture, and using your fingers or a fork, mash together until butter is absorbed and large clumps have formed among the smaller pebbles and dust. Pile as much topping on top of each dish as you like -- In the end, my layers were almost equal. Freeze any extra in a plastic bag, and use soon.

Bake your crisps in/on the lined pan, uncovered, for 1/2 an hour or until the juices are warm and bubbly, and the top is golden brown. Remove and allow to cool for three to five minutes, before serving.

I suggest topping with frozen yogurt or ice cream, and then forgetting to brush your teeth so people think you've been drinking Blueing, like you think you're so cool and living the life of Ramona Quimby, as a twenty-something. And then you can find yourself a Howie, and cut his hair with pinking shears.

Cough Syrup Pies

"George Washington killed ten men over baked goods. Did you know that? Did they teach you THAT in school?"

Hand Pies. That are too big for your hands. What isn't to like?

You can personalize them to your tastes or the tastes of others. They're portable, nice hot or cold and don't scream at you and demand an answer as to why they can't get a Jessica McClintock dress "JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE, GOD, OKAY, I GUESS I'LL JUST BE A LEPER AT MY OWN PROM. I'll wear BURLAP. AND THEN maybe THEY'LL STONE ME and you'll feel SO BAD you'll buy me one to wear at my OWN FUNERAL. So Brad Thompson can slow dance with my CORPSE."

I can't wait until I'm a mom.

Here are some fillings to consider:
Screws
Taco Bell Mild Sauce
Bottle Caps
Baby Possums

Or you can do what I did, and make a pleasingly sour grown-up cherry filling. A family friend always added almond extract to her cherry pies, so I did that and I added ground almonds to the pastry and shaved almonds to the icing. Nutmeg makes things a little dark, a little musky.

You could just add a few drops of Drakkar Noir and get the same effect.

Sour Cherry Hand Pies
 1 can pie (tart/Montmorency) cherries, packed in water and pitted
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons turbinado sugar
2-3 tablespoons clover honey
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/3 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon almond extract
1/3 teaspoon vanilla extract
Almond Pate Brisee, recipe below
Icing, recipe below

Drain cherries, reserving the liquid, which should equal close to ½ cup – if it doesn’t, top off with water until you’ve got ½ cup. Set drained cherries aside.

In a medium saucepan, heat the cherry liquid over medium-low heat until steamy. Slowly whisk in the cornstarch, turbinado and brown sugars, whisking until you’ve got a pale red, milky liquid. Turn up the heat slightly, and whisk in the spices and honey. Whisk often, until mixture comes to a simmer, clears, and begins to bubble wetly. It should thicken quite a bit – if it seems too thick, add up to another 1/3 cup of water, bring up to a boil again and desired consistency.

Add in cherries, and cook for another 5-10 minutes over medium-low heat. Taste the liquid, with a cherry so you can accurately gauge the full flavor, and adjust sugar or honey to taste. Add the extracts, and remove from the heat and cool slightly.

Preheat oven to 350° F.

Divide one half of prepared Almond Pate Brisee into four equal pieces, or eight, and roll into wide circles on a smooth, well-floured surface. Move circles to a parchment-lined baking sheet, and fill one half of each with 2-3 tablespoons of cherry filling. Fold remaining dough over filling, press edges to seal, trim if needed and crimp with the tines of a flour-dipped fork. Repeat until filling is used up. Discard dough scraps. Or braid them into your hair.

Mix one egg and one tablespoon of heavy cream with a fork until pale yellow and well blended. Using a pastry brush, coat tops of each pie with the egg wash, and sprinkle with a bit of turbinado sugar if you like. Bake pies for 25-30 minutes, or until golden brown. Remove, cool, and glaze with icing if desired.

Almond Pate Brisee
Adapted from Martha Stewart

2 sticks cold, salted butter, diced
2 ½ cups AP flour
½ -- ¾ cup ice water
15 whole, raw almonds
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon granulated vanilla sugar

In the bowl of a large food processor, fitted with the regular metal blade, pulse flour, sugar, salt, nutmeg and almonds until the flour is speckled with tiny flecks of ground almond. Add butter and pulse until mixture is comprised of small crumbles – don’t over mix. Do 7 pulses, check, and if it isn’t small enough, do 1 or 2 pulses more.

Stream in ice water slowly, with the processor running. Stop just when dough begins to clump together. Test consistency by pressing a bit of dough between your fingers – if it holds together, you’re fine, if not, add a bit more ice water and pulse once more.

Turn out onto a floured board or counter, gather into two balls, flatten into discs and wrap in saran wrap -- you'll only be using one disc, so feel free to wrap the second really well and freeze.

Chill for at least one hour.

Icing
1 cup powdered sugar
1/8 teaspoon almond extract
1/3 teaspoon vanilla extract
2-3 tablespoons cold water
Dash of grated nutmeg
3 almonds

In a small bowl, mix together powdered sugar, extracts and 2 tablespoons of cold water. Add more water as needed, until you get a smooth, thin glaze that still drips in one long stream from the spoon. You can re-thicken if you want to, by adding a little more powdered sugar.

Using a microplane or fine grater, shave almonds into icing, knocking grater against the top of the bowl once or twice to remove all flakes. Add nutmeg and stir well, then gently drip or spread over cooled pies.

Apply to face. Rub Gently. Lick your own forehead.

"If you ever make this again in public, you're going to have to find a new family. I can't have this. We can't have this around. WE CAN'T BE YOUR VICTIMS!"

First, some thanks.

I would like to thank everyone who has commented or dropped me a note -- I started this site months ago, let it go, and then the site did a juice fast and I started throwing up pictures and recipes of things I'd made. Somehow Not Martha found her way to the site, posted a link to the Salt Lick Bars and since then I've had the pleasure of people visiting and letting me know they've visited. On top of that, several people have made the recipes featured on this site and not burned themselves or wept. I don't know how to handle that. It is something I never thought would happen, and honestly I am so flattered that anyone visits more than once or spends a second to write something kind or drop a hello.

I bought you all lawnmowers.

So what I'm trying to say is, thanks to you guys I feel like I can pursue my dream of becoming a professional, Olympic-worthy figure skater at age 24.

On to pie.

Banofee Pie is a UK delight. Graham cracker crust, with lots of butter and sugar and a little salt, caramel or dulce de leche, thinly sliced ripe bananas and whipped cream. For me, it's right up there with Stephen Merchant. If you don't know who he is, and after you Google, trust me, you won't be able to think of anything else for at least 48 hours. Don't Google though, because you'll come across photos that make him look like the child of Mia Farrow circa Rosemary's Baby and something not great. Here's one:

"That's not anger, it's actually the British version of smoldering. You lose something in the exchange rate."

Enjoy the man. Enjoy the pie.

Banoffee Pie
1 3/4 cups crushed graham cracker crumbs
1/4 cup vanilla sugar
5 tablespoons melted butter

1 14 oz can sweetened condensed milk
7 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon vanilla

1-2 large, ripe bananas
Juice from 1 lemon (optional)

1 cup heavy cream, chilled
2-3 tablespoons granulated sugar

Milk chocolate, powdered sugar or cocoa powder (optional)

Mix together the graham cracker crumbs, vanilla sugar, melted butter and salt together, then press into the bottom and up the sides of a 8 or 9 inch springform pan. Use the back of a spoon or the bottom of a measuring cup to flatten the surface. Bake for 10-12 minutes, until golden brown and set. Remove and cool completely.

In a medium saucepan, melt butter, sugar, salt and sweetened condensed milk over medium heat, stirring often with a wooden spoon until mixture loses all grain, turns golden brown and begins to thicken, 7-10 minutes. Caramel should coat the back of a spoon and have thickened substantially, but should not be scorched or threatening to take your arm with it. Remove from heat, count to ten, add vanilla extract and stir to combine. Pour into cooled crust, and refrigerate until set, around 1 hour.

Right before serving, slice banana(s), toss with lemon juice so they don't look gross the next day, and arrange over caramel. Sneak some staples in there, too. Or rocks.

In a chilled glass or metal bowl, whip cream and sugar until semi-stiff peaks form. Sweeten to taste, and then spread over pie, and top with chocolate curls, sifted dutch cocoa powder or powdered sugar. Serve immediately and chill leftovers.

The good kind of Crusty

"You need to cover yourself when guests come over. We're renting. There are rules."

Guess what. This wasn't made with key limes. Guess what else. It wasn't made with fingernails, either.

Lime Pie
Adapted from The Joy of Cooking

1 packet of graham crackers (about 1 ½ cups of crumbs)
½ cup vanilla sugar
¾ stick butter, melted
½ teaspoon kosher salt

1 14 oz tin of sweetened condensed milk
4 large egg yolks, room temperature
½ cup lime juice (Or just over: I top mine off with the juice from half a meyer lemon)
2 tablespoons vanilla sugar
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
Zest from one lime

1 cup cold, fresh heavy cream
¼ cup vanilla sugar, depending on taste

Preheat oven to 350° F.

Crush graham crackers inside a Ziploc bag or food processor until even, pebbly small crumbs commence. Pour into a bowl, add salt and vanilla sugar and mix with melted butter until moist. Press into the bottom and sides of a 9 inch springform pan and bake for 10-12 minutes, until edges are golden brown and crisp. Remove and cool completely.

Turn down oven to 325 degrees. Meanwhile, whisk the sweetened condensed milk, lime zest, vanilla sugar, salt and egg yolks together until well combined.  Add the lime juice, whisking quickly, until the mixture is smooth and liquid. Pour into cooled crust and bake for 16 minutes, checking after 14 – pie should have no color, should look set but quiver slightly when pan is pushed or set down. Like the face of a paunchy, frightened 37 year old who lives in his mother's basement. Remove from oven and cool, on rack, completely. Chill for at least five hours before serving. I'm serious. Chill.

To serve, whip cream and vanilla sugar in a chilled bowl until voluminous, slightly stiff peaks form. Spread lightly in the center of the pie, dash with another bit of lime zest, and serve.