It’s no secret, I do love chocolate. Too much. But I don’t like it when the chocolate I might eat at night keeps me awake because of the caffeine. A chocolate dessert that is on the lighter side doesn’t bother me most of the time. And this one didn’t, either, although at the cooking class I didn’t get a very big portion. What I had was luscious. But then I really like a soufflé roll kind of dessert. Do you? My portion served to me at the class doesn’t even LOOK like a roll, but when it was cut into slices it did. My portion was at the end, so it got a little squished. The thing is, the filling was chocolate colored too, so it’s hard to see the rolled up cake and filling anyway.As usual, I learned something interesting at this class. You know those bottles of instant espresso powder you use for making desserts? I’ve had several over the years. And not too long ago I had to throw out the one I had open AND a new one I had on the shelf because they’d spoiled. Guess what? You’re supposed to keep it in the freezer! I certainly didn’t know that – but that’s why both bottles I had developed mold. I haven’t purchased a new one yet as it’s not carried at my local grocery stores. But now I know. . .

Years ago I used to make a chocolate soufflé roll – it was a particular favorite of mine. I probably made it 30 times over the course of 15 or so years. I mean really, what’s there not to like about chocolate and whipped cream? Seems like those two things are made to go together. But my soufflé cake roll you could see distinctly because the filling was white – whipped cream white. And the cake was a dark chocolate. Mine didn’t have nuts in it, nor did it have any coffee, as this one does. But I really liked the flavor here. A lot. It really didn’t take all that long to make (though it took a number of bowls and pans to do it all). The cake can crack when it’s rolled up – it happened at the class, but you just make do by trying to put the cracked edge on the bottom. Nobody will ever know! This would make a great dessert for the holidays. Phillis Carey obviously likes soufflé rolls too since she’s made a couple at classes I’ve attended in the past. It was served with ice cream – which you need to cut the rich cake. You can make it a few hours ahead, but that’s it – Phillis said it just doesn’t hold up longer than that (the whipped cream begins to deflate).
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Have you ever given much thought to what it must have been like as a pioneer woman? Maybe not the kind who could whip up a pumpkin pie after a day in the covered wagon traversing Kansas, but the kind who lived in New England during the early days of our country’s history? The kind of pioneer woman who had to build a fire first, keep it stoked, make and mend clothes, be capable of shooting a coyote who got too close to the chicken coop, perhaps feed all the farm animals in between doing laundry in a big huge cauldron outside the cabin? The kind of pioneer woman who had to make large meals every day, day in and day out, three times a day, often needing to feed not only the family, but also the farmhands. The kind who made biscuits, eggs, bacon, fresh bread, pancakes, stews, soups, and everything in between every single day. Who didn’t have a refrigerator to store leftovers. The kind of pioneer woman who didn’t have much cinnamon in her pantry (because it was precious and expensive), who had to harvest, cut and peel every bit of pumpkin she ever used in cooking? The kind of pioneer woman who didn’t ever go to a cooking class to learn how to use yeast. Or how to butcher a steer. It had to have been grueling work, being a pioneer housewife. And she did it in long-sleeved, full-length dresses and layers of undergarments. Because that’s just the way it was. I envy her not. Me with my ipod, double oven, bread machine, crockpot, washing machine, cell phone and two refrigerators and freezers. Well, you get my drift. My hat is off to those women who met the challenge, all for love and/or family.

Seems like I remember reading that the Native Americans taught the European settlers how to grow and harvest pumpkin because they’d never seen such things before. (The picture at the right is the sugar pumpkin I used for a soup – not for the pumpkin pie.) I’ve probably mentioned it here before that I’m a huge fan of pumpkin. Pumpkin pie is my favorite pie, bar none. And I have to talk to myself (you know, self talk in my head) about not making it more than once or twice a year. Because I can eat plenty of pumpkin pie if it’s around. My dad also adored pumpkin pie. It was his favorite as well. It’s also our son’s favorite pie, and he considers the hostess (whether it’s his wife, me, or any other hostess) stingy if he doesn’t get a whole pie all to himself on Thanksgiving. He laughs and cajoles, pleads and begs, tells the women in his life what wonderful cooks they are, just so he can have his whole pie. As a teenager he literally ate a whole pie on Thanksgiving Day. And wanted more the next morning for breakfast. I think his wife has weaned him down to one whole pie. Period.

Generally we celebrate Thanksgiving out at our desert house. We have a 3-bedroom house there, and if all three of our kids and their families come to visit it’s spillover time with people and children sleeping all over. But there’s lots to do. Entertainment for the kids. A big pool next door. A golf cart to ride around in, just to check out the pathways around the two 18-hole golf courses. And with just a single refrigerator my kitchen there is taxed to the max storing all the food and stuff to serve a big dinner, and breakfast, and lunches and snacks for thirteen people. So I always want to make pumpkin pie that doesn’t need to be refrigerated. There’s absolutely no room in the frig. Sometimes one of the daughters will make pies (Sara loves to bake, so she often offers). Karen likes to bake too, but with a little toddler she doesn’t have quite so much time these days. I have succumbed to buying pies a couple of times, but I’m never very satisfied. Store-bought pumpkin pie is usually too sweet for me. I’m certain I’ve mentioned here before that I think Thanksgiving dinner is the hardest work of any American holiday. I make my own everything, the stuffing, the brine, the vegetables, the mashed potatoes, cranberry relish, gravy, pie. Everything. In some years I’ve been so exhausted by the time I sat down to dinner I hardly wanted to eat anything. So little of Thanksgiving can be made ahead, either. One year I made Rachel Ray’s apple stuffin’ muffins. They were very good, actually. Last year I made Italian Spicy Sausage Stuffing which was just wonderful. I wrote raves about that dressing last November. I’ll write up a post sometime in the next couple of weeks with a list of my recipes that are suitable for Thanksgiving dinner. And for the leftovers too.Back to pumpkin . . . I was raised on Libby’s recipe off the label on the can. And despite trying many other versions, I generally like Libby’s recipe best. However, the other day I was perusing one of my cookbooks – one that lives out at our desert house. It’s Pumpkin: A Super Food for 12 Months of the Year. I bought it last year. And in it were several pumpkin pie recipes. So as I looked at this one, titled simply “Traditional Pumpkin Pie,” I thought, yea, just a regular pumpkin pie. No different than lots of others. But then I read the intro blurb. The author, DeeDee Stovel wrote “This is the best pie I’ve ever had.” Now, considering that she must be a really great cook, and that she has a successful pumpkin cookbook under her belt, when someone speaks those words, I listen. I looked at the ingredient list . . . nothing all that unusual other than fresh ginger rather than powdered. Hmmm. Different. But then I glanced at the directions. You have to caramelize the pumpkin. Huh? How the heck do you do that with canned pumpkin?

So, there was nothing for it except I had to try it. I don’t think I can last until Thanksgiving to get my first pumpkin pie fix, anyway. So, I bought some of Trader Joe’s ready-to-bake pie crust shells and partially baked one. Blind with pie weights, for 10 minutes just until the shell would hold its shape. Meanwhile I started in on the filling. Well, it was hard to tell when the pumpkin flesh was caramelized, or ready. If it started to brown, then there were little crusty pieces in it. So I reduced the heat and just kept smushing it around the pan until it was a thick, drier mush, rather than a wet mush. It’s a bit difficult to judge, I’d say. There’s about 25% or more of water in canned pumpkin – at least when you get done caramelizing it, instead of a cup, your yield is ¾ of a cup. That gets mixed with all the custard part, the spices (and the freshly grated ginger). But then there’s another twist – you sprinkle 2 T. of sugar and 1 T. of flour (mixed together) over the bottom of the piecrust before you pour in the custard (see photo). My guess is that it keeps the crust from getting soggy. But that certainly is a different technique I’ve not used before.

Cook’s Notes: My verdict? The pie is very good. Maybe more than “very good.” As good as Libby’s? Well, hmmm, I’m not sure. This pie has a lighter, fluffier texture. Libby’s is a more dense pie just redolent with spices. (It’s possible that’s from using Trader Joe’s organic canned pumpkin, though, rather than Libby’s.) This one is more subtle.  But I will tell you, adding that layer of flour and sugar in the bottom of the pie shell protected the bottom shell from getting soggy. That technique absolutely worked! The cinnamon in the whipped cream was also a really nice touch. The pie is light in the spices (I’d probably add more next time), but I liked it. A lot. I also had to bake the pie an additional 12-15 minutes, so maybe the filling really needs 3 eggs instead of 2.
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Last week was my turn to take desserts to my evening book group. One dessert isn’t enough for our group, so two is about the minimum. I had some cookie dough to make up into cookies, so those went along as well. I also made the applesauce spice cake with caramel icing, since it’s become such a favorite lately. I cut it up to serve about 16, and there were two skinny pieces left. I thought I should round it out with a fruit-type dessert. Apples would have been the obvious seasonal choice, but I had read a recipe recently over at Smitten Kitchen that looked absolutely fabulous. For pears. In a crisp. Yum.

FYI: Our group read The Falling Man by De Lillo. Quite a book. I didn’t particularly like it (a fictional account of a man and the people within his sphere of influence in the aftermath of his escape from the Twin Towers on 9/11). It’s a dark book, but the discussion was very lively as we analyzed the symbolism and the meaning behind some of the characters and their actions. The reviewer did an excellent job focusing our discussion and ferreting out the important details.

Anyway, this pear crisp is absolutely wonderful. If you enjoy fruit crisps, like pears, then this dessert is for you! You can make the topping ahead of time, and I’d think you could make the brown butter a few hours ahead too, if you want to bake this close to serving time (the best). Smitten Kitchen served it with fennel ice cream. Now, you have to be a regular blog reader to know about David Lebovitz (the American who lives in Paris and recently wrote an ice cream cookbook, The Perfect Scoop, the absolute best ice cream cookbook ever). I’ve made several of his ice creams, but knew I didn’t have time to make it for this event; therefore, I served it with vanilla ice cream instead. I wasn’t altogether sure my book group would appreciate the nuances of fennel ice cream anyway. But next time I make this (oh yes, I’ll be making this again and again in years to come) I will make the fennel ice cream. Smitten Kitchen raved about the combination, so that’s good enough for me to put on my to-do list!

The pears (either Anjou or Bartlett) need to be firm-ripe. This is important – too ripe and I’m sure the pears will disintegrate during the baking, and become mealy and granular. Mine were two full days resting on my countertop, and they were still quite firm. I tasted them and they were seemingly a bit under-ripe for eating out of hand, but they were PERFECT in this crisp. The pears held their shape, but released their sweetness and flavor.

So, here’s the gist of the recipe – first you make the topping (which has some ground up almonds in it), which needs to be made ahead and chilled (so it doesn’t cook too fast in the oven). Then you make the browned butter with fresh vanilla bean. Then you peel, core and cube-up the pears, mix it up with some pear brandy and the browned butter and pour that into a baking dish and top with the crumbs. Bake. This recipe is not difficult at ALL. But it’s unique for a couple of reasons – the browned butter adds a real depth, a nuttiness to the pears. And the pear brandy helps accent the pear flavor too. It’s baked for about 40 minutes or so, and you’ll want to serve this warm if possible. But, I’ll have to confess – there were leftovers that I brought home. Oh my goodness was it ever good! One morning I was in a rush to get somewhere and had a small little bowl of it for breakfast. It’s fruit, right?

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Just before we left on this last trip of ours (3500 miles) to Utah, Idaho and Oregon, our local paper had published an article about the pastry chef at Charlie Palmer’s Restaurant, Maren Henderson. I’ve mentioned the restaurant before – we’ve been there several times now and loved it on each occasion. It offers a very sophisticated dessert menu, and this is one of the items on it. I’ve not had the cake at the restaurant – always something else intrigued me more – but our daughter-in-law Karen tried it and raved about it. So in planning this trip, I took along some almond meal in a little plastic bag and was able to create this cake up north for our daughter’s birthday. She actually wanted a carrot cake (I made that too), but I made both so people could have a choice.

So, Maren Henderson created a really interesting (read: rich, yummy) cake that’s not your mainstream cake. It’s not hard to make, even though it has two layers. The bottom layer (which becomes a topping when you invert it) is a caramel that makes itself during the baking process. The cake is not unusual except for the addition of a cup of almond meal (Trader Joe’s carries it). I did make some sautéed apples to serve with this, and it needs something to cut the richness (the caramel is almost like candy) so I’d definitely serve it with vanilla ice cream on the side. I made the cake earlier in the day and reheated the entire cake (on the cake pan pictured). I heated it for exactly 5 minutes, but it wasn’t long enough, as the icing was still very thick and candy-like.

Once you bake the cake you allow it to cool briefly, then you invert the entire thing onto a baking pan. If you used a glass pan, you can watch the cake gently ooze itself out of it and once you take the pan off, the caramel oozes all over the sides of the cake. The recipe indicates it serves 21. Well, I’d say it might serve 30. It’s very rich, so you don’t want large pieces. Since we were offering two cakes, we cut this into about 1 ½ inch squares. Maybe some were 2-inch squares, and it was ample, especially with the apples on the side and ice cream too.

Everyone raved about the cake. And it’s really very, very good. Would I make it again? I might, but have decided that I prefer another cake to this one, the applesauce spice cake that I make in a springform pan. I prefer the caramel brown sugar frosting on that cake to the one here. But this one is very pretty to look at with its caramel dripping all around. The pastry chef apparently serves it in a small round – you can cut it using a round cookie cutter. She also serves it with a ghee foam, and I’d guess she probably drizzles the plate with more caramel sauce too. The caramel that puddled on the pan (see photo) became almost like sticky toffee/caramel cubes. So I’m not sure that maybe I overbaked it. I followed the directions to the letter (50 minutes) but still, maybe it had gone to the candy stage. Perhaps I should try it again with a different pan. I also might make half a recipe in a 9×9 pan and see how that turned it. So, in case you’d like to give this one a try, here’s the recipe:
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I’ve wanted to make this recipe so I could share it with you, but it never seemed to be the right menu for it. But I took dessert to friends the other night, and thought it would be perfect. This is an EASY recipe. You buy a store-bought angel food cake (or make your own if you’d prefer), mix up the filling/frosting, grate a bit of chocolate, toast some almonds and put it together. It probably took about 30 minutes to assemble, including toasting the nuts. The picture above doesn’t exactly show the layers – the lighting wasn’t good enough, I guess.

This is a Phillis Carey recipe, from a cooking class I took with her several years ago. The filling (which also is the frosting on the outside) has mascarpone cheese in it, with a whole lot of whipped cream, some cocoa and espresso powder, a bit of powdered sugar and Amaretto. You slice the cake into 3 layers, drizzle a little Amaretto on each layer, then put a cup of frosting between each with some grated chocolate, then slather the remaining around the top and outside. Then the toasted almonds are lightly pressed on the frosting. That’s it. Done. Be sure to refrigerate it for at least four hours before serving.

I’ve never made it with Cool-Whip, but am sure you could – and it might be just fine. This particular time I ended up buying mascarpone that had tiramisu flavoring in it (my mistake), so I added a small tub of Crème Fraiche to the mixture too. The recipe calls for 2/3 cup of powdered sugar – I think it’s way too much, but use your own judgment. If you made a from-scratch angel food cake, it would be larger than the store-bought ones, so you might want to spread the filling a little thinner (or make just a bit more of it). If you really wanted to be decadent, make a little chocolate sauce to drizzle on top. My DH doesn’t eat many desserts and his verdict was: “this is the best dessert you’ve ever made!” I disagree – there are some other desserts I’ve made that are perhaps better, but HE thought this was the best. He did his best to get as much of the leftovers as he possibly could!
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Here it is, toward the end of summer, and after the nice Asian-influenced dinner the other night, I wanted to serve something with a slight Asian flavor. Ginger ice cream came to mind. Immediately I went to my favorite ice cream cookbook – The Perfect Scoop, by David Liebovitz. If you’re interested in other food blogs and want to read a very entertaining one, you might check out David’s blog. He’s an American, worked for some years at Chez Panisse, Alice Waters’ famous restaurant in Berkeley, California. Then he moved to Paris, and it’s from his small apartment there that he wrote this most recent ice cream cookbook.

This ice cream has more cooking steps than many – certainly more than my very favorite lemon velvet ice cream that I make now and then. And it took longer to make everything than I’d hoped. But in the big picture, it was worth the effort, to get that very smooth and subtle ginger flavor without adding the straight stuff into the custard.

After performing all the steps (blanching the ginger, steeping it in milk, thickening it up with the egg yolks to make a custard, chilling it in an ice bath, then freezing it in the ice cream machine) I thought it needed just another little boost of ginger flavor. It was not in Liebovitz’ recipe, but I added crystallized ginger to the finished product. Providing the crystallized ginger is minced into itty, bitty pieces, it freezes nicely, providing a little ginger burst. I also substituted some of Trader Joe’s fat-free half and half for the milk and cream. Not only does it lower the richness, but it makes the scooping of the hard-frozen ice cream easier. There must be something in that product that makes a softer finished product. I don’t know what it is, but every time I do that, it’s easier to scoop. Home made ice cream has that fault – if you will – that with using the pure, unadulterated cream and milk, when it’s frozen, it’s f-r-o-z-e-n. Hard. Normally I have to leave the container out for 10 minutes or so to even begin to scoop a serving.

When you serve this, don’t overwhelm it with other prominent flavors (like a chocolate chip cookie) as the ginger flavor really is very subtle. You want to savor it. Enjoy.
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What’s that, you ask? A galette? Pronounced gal-LET. It’s a French term with more than one meaning (it could contain a savory filling, or be a buckwheat crepe, actually), but in this case it’s just a rustic piecrust, not necessarily housed in a pie tin, but merely placed on a sheet and the filling placed in the center with the crust pulled up loosely around the edges.

Now, it’s confession time here. I’ve never been very good at pie crusts. I’m still not. Even by my mother’s side, I couldn’t seem to wield the right kind of pressure on the rolling pin to make the perfectly flaky crusts my mother would turn out with Crisco and ice water. And this time, I forgot to read the instructions at a critical point. Read on. Part of the crust was torn and a good part of the juice seeped out before I’d even put it in the oven). At the point when the crust cracked and the juice began to ooze, I had a choice. I could have started over, but the fruit was already IN the crust, for goodness’ sake. How could I? So, I just kept moving it on over to the paella pan I used (good thing there were edges, since that sugary ooze oozed some more as it baked).

The verdict? OMGosh. It was scrumptious. Absolutely scrumptious. Even with the ooze in the pan. Even with the filling having leaked out all of its juice (the fruit seemed to give up some more, since it was certainly moist). Even with the mess it left in the pan.

So, let me tell you all about this galette. What got me started was reading Rose Levy Beranbaum’s blog last week about her peach galette. I saw the photo of it (and all the lovely stages she went through to get it perfect – she is a far better crust-maker than I am) and since I had four gorgeously ripe peaches awaiting something, I decided to make this. Now Rose is a paramount baker. She’s written several cookbooks, so I’ve learned to trust her.

You could use any old pie crust for this, I suppose, but Rose used her cream cheese one. Rose’s Perfect Flaky & Tender Cream Cheese Pie Crust. Go there and you can see all the lovely photos, and the recipe appearing in strict columns by ounces and grams. With a very long bit of instruction.

First you freeze the dry ingredients (yes, really). And you freeze the butter in small cubes (yes, really). When they combine in the food processor it comes together nicely, but in crumbles. At least I was doing well up to that point. You put the dough into a plastic bag, seal it, then kind of mash it together into a disc. That gets refrigerated for awhile. Okay so far. Now came my test of skill. Ideally you have a large round pastry cloth you use to roll out such pastry. I don’t. So I used the granite countertop instead, dusted with ample flour. I rolled, and turned, sprinkled more flour, etc. You know, the usual drill. I thought I was doing fine. Was quite pleased with myself. (Reminder to self: don’t get cocky!)

Meanwhile you’ve peeled and sliced the peaches and allowed them to drain (juice saved) in a colander with the sugar and lemon juice. All that juice gets reduced by half. I didn’t have as much juice as Rose indicated I would, but I carefully simmered it until it was reduced and poured it into the peaches and poured it onto the nearly completed piecrust. Quick-like you bring the edges up around the fruit and try to sort-of pleat them into nice looking folds if you can. My problem was I was supposed to put the crust into the tin BEFORE I added the filling. My usual difficulty – I didn’t read the recipe at that point. As I mentioned, I’d decided to use my big paella pan (she calls for a pizza pan with sides), knowing that I might have a peach-leak. I used flour-sprinkled spatulas to try to lift. Next time I’ll do it right.

Rose recommends chilling the completed pastry for half an hour before baking, but since I already had an oozy mess, I decided to go ahead and bake it then and there. It took exactly 40 minutes, as her recipe indicated. I let it cool for about 30 minutes and served us a slice, with some vanilla ice cream. There was nothing but quiet as we both savored the bites. Absolutely stupendous. The cream cheese pie crust is flakier. more tender. More tasty. And it was not soggy one bit, either, despite my peach-leaks. Even the next DAY, and the day after that, the bottom crust was still flaky and tender. No sogginess. So, I’d highly recommend this recipe. I will say, I made a regular recipe of the dough (she recommends a 1 ½ times recipe for 3 pounds of peaches. I had 2 ¼ pounds of peaches, so thought the single recipe would work. It did, and I didn’t roll the pastry as thin as Rose did, I don’t believe. Have peaches? Make galette! And yes, I’ll be making this again, but carefully read the instructions first!
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My Tivo is my best friend. I absolutely adore the thing. I actually have two, one of which is connected to a TV with a cable box (for shows on the premium channels), and the other resides in my office – my main TV viewing room. I know, you’re wondering why I’m talking about Tivo when the title is about cupcakes. I’ll get there . . . I watch very little network TV (The Closer, Oprah, Grey’s Anatomy and CBS’s Sunday Morning being exceptions) Most of my Tivo-watching comes from a variety of other cable channels. I simply can’t get enough of Meerkat Manor. I’m still mourning the loss of Flower. I love Miami Animal Police too. Antiques Roadshow. House Hunters. Little People, Big World. Dog Whisperer (and we don’t even have a dog anymore, but I love Caesar Milan.) And it was smokin’ during the Olympics. I couldn’t quite keep up with the Olympics and ran out of space on my 40-hour Tivo. I also record a variety of art and painting programs, plus a few esoteric cooking shows. I do like the Barefoot Contessa, and Rick Bayless too. And Michael Chiarello. Then there’s Ellen, and Oprah (she’s on hiatus at the moment). Fortunately, not all of these programs are running at the same time or I’d not be able to keep up with my regular programs. I just recently started watching Martha. Sometimes her subjects don’t interest me, so I just delete. But the subject last week (of re-runs, actually) was cupcakes. Okay, see, I told you I’d get there.

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve made cupcakes since my daughter Dana was a little tyke. But, as I’m sure you’ve seen, they’re all the rage now, with really unusual cake flavors, frosting and decorating. So Martha had a guest on from a bakery in Santa Monica the other day. And one other day she entertained a group of three women who have the blog called Cupcakes Take the Cake. All three ladies post about cupcakes. That’s it. Cupcakes. Martha asked each one about her favorite cupcake. I don’t even remember two of them, but Allison Bojarski said it was her Chocolate Spice cupcakes with a Chocolate Spice Glaze.

Being about 8 feet away from my computer, I hopped over to Google them. Bingo. Got it. Since we were having guests for dinner a few nights later I decided to try them. I’m usually game for trying new recipes for guests (I know, call me crazy). Not having made any cupcakes for years, it was fun to do, and these are very unusual. They have a warm-mouth and warm-belly feel to them because of the addition of ancho chile powder in both the cake and the glaze. And there are a bunch of other Fallish kinds of spices in there too (like cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, and ginger).

I don’t dislike Red Hots, but I wasn’t going to buy them just for these cupcakes, so I used some chocolate nonpareils I had in my chocolate stash (the chocolate-eating bugs hadn’t infiltrated the hard plastic box they were in). I bought them for a cookie I made last Christmas, the Chocolate Kiss Treasures that I will be making again this year – they have a nonpareil nestled on the top of each cookie.

The only things I’ll tell you about these are: (1) the glaze is gooey and needs some finesse putting it on to avoid letting it drip down the sides; (2) the measuring of all the spices takes an extra few minutes; (3) if you don’t have ancho chile powder, order some from Penzey’s. Ancho chile powder is very mild – you could add a lot of it to a pot of soup and barely know it’s there. Anchos are not hot, just barely warm; (4) because the cupcakes are made with cocoa, they’re not as wicked as some. The good stuff (chocolate) is in the glaze, which is applied while it’s meltingly hot.

A cupcake stand is not in my repertoire (and no, I don’t really want one) but I do have a double-decker plate/stand thing that perfectly fit 9 cupcakes, exactly the number of guests at our table. That’s one end of it you see in the photo above. We were dining outside, so I just walked the plate around and served each person. (Next time I’ll serve each on a plate with a paper napkin.)

My DH didn’t love these – but he’s not particularly a chocolate fan, either. Would I make them again? Yes – maybe for the right meal. They were good. At least I thought they were. Different. But, maybe not to everyone’s palate. My guests all said they were good, but I don’t know if they were just being nice. Maybe some of them, if they read my blog, will leave a comment here and let me know what they thought. That way you can get another opinion or two.
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It intrigues me, always, when I read a recipe and find some new or different technique. Such was the case with this recipe. It’s not exactly an innovative instruction, but normally you don’t cover a cobbler or cake while it’s baking. In this case, you cover it with oiled foil for half the baking and uncover for the second half. And this fruit pudding cake requires about 80-90 minutes of baking. That’s a heck of a long time.

Before we get to the recipe itself, I want to talk about peaches and nectarines for a minute . . . I know (because Carolyn knows all, tee, hee) that some of you, my good readers, who subscribe or use a reader, chose not to read my instructional pieces about how to buy great fruit and vegetables (I’ve done two so far – peaches/nectarines, and cucumbers). I suppose in the big scheme of things, I shouldn’t care, but I’m merely telling you, it’s worth the reading. Really it is. (If you want to read it now, just click on the links above to go to each of those posts.) I’ve learned things from the book this info has come from. In this case, when I was shopping for peaches, I remembered what Russ Parsons had told me – and I’m doing this from memory – firstly that peaches and nectarines are interchangeable, for all intents and purposes, (okay, good so far, so I chose nectarines) – then he said choose the white-fleshed fruit if it’s available (check), and choose fruit that has less rosy tinges to them – in other words, choose the more yellow skinned rather than the red skinned (I did my best, check). Once home, I placed them on the kitchen counter (check) for about 4 days, actually, until they were perfectly ripe. That day wasn’t one when I could use them, so I popped them in a plastic bag and into the refrigerator (check). It’s been 3 or 4 more days since I did that, and amazingly, they were perfectly okay once I removed them from cold storage. I’m a happy camper.

I haven’t done much cooking of late. No particular reason, other than I’ve been busy doing other things (like painting, for instance, going to my weekly art class, shopping, going out to lunch with friends, movie-going to see Mama Mia). And, we had lots of leftovers in the refrigerator. I don’t mind leftovers at all, and my DH is wonderful about eating them. In fact he rags on me something fierce whenever we have to throw out something. Alas, we do now and then. But our refrigerator, finally, is more or less bare. Well, that’s not exactly a truthful statement. If you opened my frig you’d find nearly all shelves half full – of bottles and jars of things that have to be refrigerated all the time (pickles, dressings, marinades, mustards, some liqueurs, crème fraiche, still some Devon cream leftover from the tea about 6 weeks ago, oils, jams, condiments, hot peppers, and on and on it goes). The vegetable drawer is crammed full too, as well as the shallow cheese/salami drawer. Of course, there’s also some milk, fat-free half and half, some cream, sour cream, fresh salsa, and lots of Greek yogurt too.

So, now we get to talk about the recipe. Sorry for the diversion . . . I went to my recipe trove and searched for something to do with the nectarines. Out popped this recipe. I adore pudding cakes – you’ll find that I posted a lemon sponge cake and a gingerbread pudding cake in months past, both really tasty. I’d never made a peach (well, nectarine) one. First I peeled and sliced (and measured) the nectarines. I took two little slices to taste – oh my goodness were they fabulous. Now, a slight confession: the original recipe called for 4 cups of sliced fruit. I had 4 rather smallish nectarines, and I thought I’d be lucky to have 3 cups. Actually, it was a bit over 2 cups. So, I halved the recipe. The list of ingredients, when halved, was difficult (I hate it when you have to measure 7/8 of a cup or 3/8 of a cup). So, the recipe you’ll see below is the full 9×13 size, since I didn’t think you guys would want to have to do all the odd-estimating measurements, either. I baked mine in an 8-inch round cakepan. I don’t own an 8-inch square pan (just a 9-er), so figured the 8-inch round cakepan would be a better use of the volume/space.

The recipe appeared in Bon Appetit, in August of 2007. It was in the column where people write in to ask for restaurant recipes. When I searched online for it, it wasn’t AT the epicurious website (odd), but I did find it at somebody else’s food blog. Before I made it I wanted to read what others thought of it. Several people who have eaten at the restaurant, and had moved away from Austin, were thrilled to find the recipe online (per the comments to the blog). Apparently the pastry chef at this restaurant is Asian, as the recipe on the menu is called Wom Kim’s Peach Pudding.

Remember, pudding cake is a unique chemistry – the batter separates into a pudding layer, and also has a second layer more resembling a cake. When this pudding cake was sliced and served, it didn’t have much ooze left (probably because I baked it too long). In this particular recipe you spread the batter into the baking dish, then spoon the freshly sliced peaches/nectarines on top. Once baked, the fruit has settled (mostly) to the bottom and the cake is on top. In my instance, since I was using a smaller vessel, I cut down the baking time. Next time I’ll bake it less time. You can see from the collage of pictures, the one with the shiny center is halfway through the baking – from then I probably needed to bake it about 30 minutes and check it with my tester in 5-minute increments. And next time I’ll know to make the full 9×13 glass pan full, and to have at least 8 peaches or nectarines on hand to make it!

The results? It was delicious (is that my most favorite word on this blog? sorry . . .). Ahem. It was very good, but I think the cake overpowered the delicate flavor of the nectarines, though. If you want straight, unadulterated peach or nectarine flavor, cut them up and serve with cream or eat out of hand. If you don’t mind the mingling of flavors (the cake part was a bit crunchy on top – which was a great texture  . . . I liked it, it was perfectly baked, a bit darkened around the outside edges from sugar caramelization, just as the recipe recommended). I served it with a small globe of vanilla ice cream rather than whipped cream – I wanted the cold contrast.
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If you’re a regular reader of my blog, you already know that I rarely buy a box mix of anything. That started a long time ago when I learned a lot about food additives. So I prefer to use fresh products whenever possible. But I’ve been known to be lured into trying a few boxed things. My friend Cherrie (who doesn’t bake) started buying some of Ina Garten’s Barefoot Contessa mixes and gave them superlative accolades.

So I chose a chocolate cupcake mix with a peanut butter frosting, thinking that our granddaughter Taylor would be particularly interested (she takes after her grandpa, since they both love all things peanut butter), and would like to make them. Uh, no. She was more interested in playing and taking care of her baby cousin Vaughan, so I whipped them up myself. It wasn’t much different than a regular cake mix. But oh, the taste. Oh my goodness. How in the heck can she/they make a box mix taste so darned wonderful? Will I buy one of these again? Oh yea!

We had the family over for another outdoor barbecue dinner for 9. We ate leftovers of our 4th of July meal, and added about 2 pounds of some wonderful grilled Italian sausage to the menu. And rounded out the dinner with these fabulous cupcakes. So if you ever have a time when there simply isn’t time, or you’d rather spend it creating something else, these cupcakes are highly recommended.

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