January 11, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Keep Calm

“Come, let us have some tea and continue to talk of happy things.”

-Chaim Potok

“Tea is drunk to forget the din of the world.”

-Tien Yiheng

“Strange, how a teapot can represent at the same time the comforts of solitude and the pleasures of company.”

-Author Unknown

IMG_7347_01

“Take some more tea,” the March Hare said to Alice, very earnestly.
“I’ve had nothing yet,” Alice replied in an offended tone, “so I can’t take more.”
“You mean you can’t take less,” said the Hatter: “it’s very easy to take more than nothing.”

-Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

There is always time for tea and room for cake.
Or, in this case, both.

Chocolate cakes infused with Earl Grey tea in two manners: dry tea leaves, and hot brewed tea.
The sweet, floral undertones, which have orange and verbena notes, as well as the astringent black tea leaves, contrast well with the deep and rich chocolate cake.
The Italian meringue buttercream is made with honey and golden syrup, resulting in a salty-sweet, silky delight that tastes like the top of a good piece of toast, minus the bread, which is the worst part anyway.

I might actually like cupcakes again.
This recipe only makes 6, which is perfect (I don’t need 24 cupcakes floating around my house, people…), and is a marriage of unexpected flavors which ended up working inexplicably well.

The best recipe for health and happiness:
good books, better tea, and, of course, delicious cupcakes.

Teatime Cupcakes
makes 6
cake portion adapted from Sweetapolita
ingredients:
for the chocolate Earl Grey cakes:
48 grams (1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons) flour
75 grams (1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons) sugar
3/8 teaspoon baking soda
3/8 teaspoon baking powder
3/8 teaspoon cornstarch
big pinch kosher salt
15 grams (2 tablespoons) cocoa powder
1 tablespoon loose Earl Grey leaves
40 mL (2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons) buttermilk
1 medium egg (if using a large egg, beat it well before adding it, and remove 2 teaspoons of beaten egg)
30 mL (2 tablespoons) hot Earl Grey tea
25 mL (1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons) vegetable oil
splash vanilla extract

for the honey golden syrup IMBC:
111 grams (1/3 cup) honey
111 grams (1/3 cup) golden syrup
scant 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 egg whites
230 grams (1 cup) butter, cut into small pieces and soft but cool

directions:
For the cakes, line 6 muffin tins with cupcake papers.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Whisk the flour, sugar, baking soda and powder, cornstarch salt, tea leaves, and cocoa powder together.
Into the dry ingredients, add the buttermilk, egg, hot tea, oil, and vanilla.
Whisk very well to combine. (It will be a very thin batter.)
Fill each cupcake well with 1/4 cup of batter.
Bake for 15-18 minutes, until domed and springy to the touch, and a tester comes out clean.
Allow to cool completely before frosting.

For the honey golden syrup IMBC:
Place the egg whites, along with a pinch of cream of tartar, in the bowl of a stand mixer.
Place the honey, golden syrup, and salt in a small sauce pot over medium heat.
Begin to whisk the eggs.
When the syrup reaches 230 degrees, the eggs should almost be at soft peaks.
When the syrup reaches 240 degrees, the egg whites should have soft peaks that are almost stiff.
Pour the syrup carefully, down into the bowl while the mixer is running.
Beat the meringue until it has cooled to body temperature, then beat in the butter one tablespoon at a time.
Beat until the buttercream has become very fluffy and light.
Frost cupcakes as desired.

P.S.

November 30, 2013December 3, 2013 by Rachel Sally

감사합니다

I’m thankful for home.

I’m grateful to be surrounded by love and warmth and family.

This brief respite has been much needed, and much appreciated.

It saddens me to leave (tomorrow), but I am comforted with the knowledge that I will be back in just a few short weeks.

I love my home: my house, my friends, my family, my town.

I love this place.

I was dearly missing this place.

I thought I’d share some snapshots of home with you; the first photo is of my beloved bed, where I haven’t been spending enough time this break. (Too many things to do! People to see! Places to go!)

You get a preview of our holiday cards (blech) and some cute photos of my kitten and pup.

Also, THANKS GUYS, for being awesome and reading these stupid posts of mine on this silly little blog.

You rock. Thanks for that. I sure do appreciate you.

Now, food.

Thanksgiving Menu 2013:

Roasted roots: herbed sweet potatoes, parsnips, and carrots with honey mustard aioli (GF)

Roasted brown butter and maple Brussels sprouts (GF)

Honey glazed turkey with giblet gravy (GF)

Maple and apple cranberry sauce (GF)

Cornbread stuffing with spiced sausages, pecans, sage, and celery (GF)

Goat cheese, buttermilk, and olive oil mashed potatoes (GF)

Whole wheat butternut squash mac and cheese

Mixed green salad with pomegranates, walnuts, shaved fennel, apples, and Parmesan with pomegranate dressing (GF)

Butterscotch and thyme apple pie (GF)

Maple kefir brûlée tart (GF)

Pumpkin roll with Frangelico and mascarpone whipped cream, brown butter glaze, chopped pecans (GF)

Yes, I made all of that myself. Boy, was it a marathon. A very, very, very, long and delicious haul.

My photos were all very rushed and poorly lit; I had hoped to show you pictures of all the gluten free goodies I made, but no such luck.

At least I got a picture of the pumpkin roll cake… So I can torture you with yet another pumpkin recipe!

This will be the last pumpkin recipe of the year.

It’s one to remember: light, fluffy pumpkin sponge cake rolled around mascarpone and maple whipped cream, topped with brown butter and Frangelico glaze and chopped pecans.

You might just be inspired to pull out one last can of pumpkin.

Happy Thanksgiving (weekend), y’all.

Pumpkin Roll Cake

ingredients:
for the cake:
powdered sugar, for sprinkling on towel
90 grams (3/4 cup) flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, ginger, pepper, coriander
pinch salt
3 large eggs
200 grams (1 cup) sugar
2/3 cup pumpkin puree
for the filling:
1 cup whipped cream
1 cup mascarpone
¼ cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons maple syrup
pinch salt

for the glaze:
4 tablespoons butter, browned
2/3 cup powdered sugar
1/3 cup powdered milk
2 tablespoons maple syrup
2 teaspoons Frangelico (optional)

For garnish:
Chopped pecans

Directions:
For the cake, preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a sheet pan very well; line with parchment paper.
Sprinkle a dishtowel with powdered sugar.
Whisk the flour, leaveners, spices, and salt together.
Beat the yolks and ¼ cup of the sugar very well, then stir in pumpkin.
Sift the flour mixture over the yolks and fold in gently.
Whip the egg whites and remaining sugar to stiff peaks.
Fold into the pumpkin mixture, then spread the batter out onto your prepared pan.
Bake for 15 minutes, until set.
Flip over onto towel and let cool for 5 minutes.
Gently roll up the cake and set aside to cool completely.
For the filling, beat the whipped cream to soft peaks, then gently beat in the other ingredients.
Spread onto the cooled, unrolled cake, then reroll the cake.
For the glaze, mix everything together until no lumps remain; drizzle over the rolled cake.
Garnish with chopped pecans.

September 16, 2013September 16, 2013 by Rachel Sally

16 September

It’s my 18th birthday, today.

Today is the only day of the year

where everyone writes

on my facebook wall.

Rejoice.

I ~~secretly~~ hate my birthday.

This may seem trite coming from a teenager, but I’ve always been acutely aware and afraid of growing older.

Each birthday that passes, a wave of fear and anxiety passes over me. I’ve always been the baby.
I’m the baby of my family; I’m almost always the baby among friends.

Getting older ~~makes me feel uneasy~~ scares the shit out of me.

Birthdays have hung heavy with regret, especially as I come close to adulthood. (Am I an adult yet?)

I’m a worrier. It’s my nature.

I worry that I haven’t done enough
haven’t enjoyed enough
haven’t appreciated enough
haven’t taken each and every last moment of my life, this precious and fleeting thing, and lived it to the fullest.

It’s futile, of course.

That doesn’t stop me from thinking about it, waking in the dead of night, sweating, crying, scared, worried, tangled in the sheets, blinking like a bird roused from its nest.

So, yes. But birthdays come with cake.

And I love cake.

So.

This was my birthday cake.

It’s a pavlova, which means it’s a baked meringue base, topped with whipped cream and fruits.

Mine is a simple French meringue, baked until the outside is crispy but the inside is still billowy and marshmallow-y, topped with a coconut/mascarpone whipped cream and pucker-inducing passion fruit sauce, and finished with raspberries and coconut flakes.

I love meringue cakes; this one is exactly how I like my cakes: light, airy, but packed with a walloping punch of vibrant flavors.

It was divine.

It almost made me like my birthday.

Pavlova

ingredients:
4 large egg whites
pinch cream of tartar
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons cornstarch
1 teaspoon white vinegar

1 cup passion fruit purée, liquid
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon cornstarch

1 can of full-fat coconut milk, refrigerated and UNSHAKEN (see here)
1 cup of heavy cream, cold
2 tablespoons mascarpone
1 tablespoon confectioner’s sugar

1 pint of raspberries
coconut flakes, optional

directions:

Preheat oven to 175 degrees F.
Draw a 8 inch circle on a piece of parchment with a pencil and place it pencil side down on a sheet pan.
Combine egg whites and cream of tartar.
Beat until soft peaks form, then slowly stream in the sugar while beating at high speed.
Beat until stiff peaks form, then beat in the cornstarch and vinegar.
Spread out on the parchment, staying within the circle.
Bake for 2 hours, then turn the oven off and allow to cool completely in the oven.
Meanwhile, make the passion fruit sauce.
Place passion fruit, 1/3 cup sugar, and 1/2 teaspoon cornstarch in a saucepan and whisk to combine.
Bring to a boil and allow to boil for 1 1/2 minutes.
Remove from heat and allow to cool completely before using.
Make the coconut whipped cream by beating the separated coconut fat (detailed instructions here or here) until soft peaks form, then beating in the mascarpone and confectioner’s sugar.
Beat the heavy cream to stiff peaks separately, then beat it into the coconut/mascarpone mixture.
Chill until you need to use it.

Assemble the pavlova no more than 30 minutes before serving (don’t worry, it’s really simple).
Place the meringue on a serving dish, then pile the coconut whipped cream high on top of it.
Drizzle with the passionfruit sauce, and top with raspberries and coconut flakes, if desired.
Enjoy!

P.S.
As you may have noticed, you can now pin my photos simply by rolling over them and clicking the Pinterest symbol.
In addition, there are social media buttons at the bottom of each post.
You can share posts via twitter, linkedin, Google+, instagram, Pinterest, facebook, and email.
(Right below this!)

April 15, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Sweet Heaven

Thou art the vegetable most unsung.
Scorned for the raw sourness you impart,
though your sapor glides, winged, o’er the tongue.

O! sweet rhubarb! Thine flesh, stringed and tart,

melts into the ambrosia of the gods.
Thy ruby hue knows no earthly confines;
deepens when simmer’d with a vanilla pod.
Thine taste is heightened by nutmeg and wine.

Be not forlorn, for here ready I stand,
thy sweet delicacy must be made known
I stand proud, lemon and rhubarb in hand,
layers set thee on thy velvet throne.

Tis past time for us to make way, posthaste!
‘Tis time to revel in thy piquant taste.

Ahem. Yes, I wrote a sonnet.

… About rhubarb.

It happens, okay?!

I just love this weird ass vegetable.

I like most weird vegetables.

I identify with them. They’re like my tribe.

I, too, do not move and spend much of my life under a thick layer of dirt.

I, too, do not fit in with the rest of the produce aisle.

I, too, frighten many as they open up their CSA box to see me sitting inside.

Rhubarb is so yucky when uncooked- fibrous, extremely sour, and, hello! poisonous.

Yet there is a magical transformation that takes place when rhubarb is subjected to heat, sweetened just a touch, and spiked with plenty of nutmeg, vanilla, and salt.

Magical.

It melts down and becomes velveteen and ever so silky.

The vegetal taste is lost, and transforms into a mysteriously addicting, but difficult to describe, earthy, fruity flavor.

Rhubarb and strawberries and lemon were meant to be together.

Rhubarb is thus the gateway drug vegetable between winter and summer produce.

Lemons abound (year round, really) in the winter, when citrus is essentially the only fruit to be found.

Strawberry season begins in spring and extends well into summer.

But rhubarb, wily and tricksy (tricksy little hobbitses) as it is, has a very brief season, right at the beginning of spring; after early spring, it becomes increasingly harder to find.

Marry these three (I suppose you could even add in some raspberries, you minx), and you have a divine combination, which hits your taste buds in all the right places.

Seriously. I took one bite of this cake and promptly cut myself another slice.

I’m not kidding. The cake was all but gone this morning, when I finished it off for breakfast.

It’s that good.

The crisp meringue softens slightly and becomes pillowesque and marshmallow-y, while the whipped cream plays gorgeously off of all the tartness coming from the rhubarb, strawberries, and lemon, providing just enough richness to please your palate.

Now, it’s true that I prefer fruit desserts (especially lemon curd) over chocolate ones (strange but true), but I am not exaggerating when I say this is one of my all time favorite cakes, perhaps even the numero uno big dog.

And it’s not even cake!

It’s a miracle.

P.S. Have you met my friend, Kohlrabi?

She looks like an alien space capsule and a squid mixed with a cabbage.

Just beautiful.

Sweet Heaven Cake

note: I tried to keep the sugar to a minimum here, because I prefer tart desserts.

If you prefer things sweeter, feel free to bump up the sugar in the lemon curd to 5 or 6 tablespoons, and to increase the maple syrup in the compote (I free-poured somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2 of a cup and that was plenty).

You can also increase the sugar in the meringue to 3/4 cup, but I don’t think that is necessary.

Oh, and also, you can sweeten the whipped cream with a tablespoon or so of powdered sugar.

for the meringue layers:

ingredients:

6 egg whites

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

1/2 cup sugar

pinch salt

splash vanilla extract

directions:

Preheat oven to 250 degrees F.

Line two sheet pans with parchment and trace 2 six inch circles on each.

Whip the egg whites with the cream of tartar and salt until they begin to foam.

Slowly begin to add in the sugar, about 1 teaspoon at a time, until meringue is stiff and holds peaks.

Whip in the vanilla extract.

Transfer to a piping bag, or go freehand- pipe out meringue, about 3/4 inch thick, onto each of the pre-traced circles.

Bake for 2 or so hours, until the meringue is no longer sticky and is slightly golden.

Turn off the oven and allow the meringue to cool completely in the oven; prop the door with a wooden spoon handle.

for the rhubarb compote:

1 pound rhubarb, chopped into 1/4 inch moons

1/2 cup maple syrup, to taste

pinch nutmeg

pinch salt

splash vanilla extract

directions:

Place all ingredients except vanilla in a large sauce pot; heat over medium high heat until the rhubarb breaks down and the whole compote has no chunks.

Stir in the vanilla and let cool.

for the lemon curd:

adapted from Alice Medrich

1/3 cup lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon lemon zest

1 egg

scant quarter cup sugar

pinch salt

directions:

Whisk everything together and cook on medium low heat, stirring constantly, until mixture thickens and coats the back of a spoon, about 6 minutes.

Remove from heat and allow to cool.

to assemble:

ingredients:

1/2 cup cold heavy cream, whipped softly with a pinch of agar (optional)

sliced and whole strawberries

directions:

Place your first meringue layer on a cake stand or plate.

Spread lemon curd over it, then spoon rhubarb compote in the middle and spread over the curd.

Place your second layer on top of the first, then spread whipped cream over it.

Add rhubarb compote and spread over the cream,then layer sliced strawberries over the compote.

Place the third layer over the second, and repeat the steps for the first layer.

Place the fourth layer on top, and dollop/spread the rest of the whipped cream over it.

Decorate with more sliced and whole strawberries.

April 14, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Unseasonable

This was not supposed to be a Christmas themed dessert.

I swear.

It was meant to be a beautifully vibrant expression of three of my all-time favorite flavors:

pistache, framboise, et rose.

Pistachio, raspberry, rose.

I had dreams about the beautiful red spheres of raspberry that I could make; I drooled over the thought of a pistachio pain de gênes; I practically fainted when I pictured candied rose petals, topping the whole shebang off.

This dessert was the very first baking I did when I got home from my vacation.

Let’s just say that I was just a little *ahem* antsy to get back in the kitchen.

I had been planning this dessert out for ages, diligently typing out recipes on my phone on the plane ride to the islands.

It makes sense, then, that this was an especially ambitious dessert.

Highly involved, many components, and many, many opportunities for human error to enter into the system.

I wasn’t entirely happy, as it became very clear very quickly, with the color scheme of this dessert.

The raspberry was so vibrant that it looked garish next to the muted greens of the pistachios.

The white meringues were too much of a contrast with the rest of the plate, and the rose petals which I had candied were pink, not red, and looked like sliced red onions on the plate.

*gag*

So, lesson learned: ease back into my work, lest in the throes of relaxation my creativity has silently slipped into a less tasteful realm.

Also, pink rose petals look like onions.

Pistache et Framboise

vanilla goat cheese panna cotta

raspberry gelée

raspberry curd

rosewater meringues

raspberry and rose cubes

pistachio pain des gênes

raspberry spheres

chopped pistachios

(candied rose petals)

I currently don’t have my WISE journal (it’s being evaluated… eep!), and I didn’t make a dessert this weekend, so I guess I’m “behind” a week in terms of desserts.

I’ll probably make one during the week, to catch up, and I’ll be back to regularly scheduled posts soon.

I think.

Pistache et Framboise

Raspberry Rose Cubes
ingredients:
80 g raspberry purée, strained twice through a sieve
1 teaspoon rosewater
5 g sugar
1.2 g agar
directions:
Bring juice and sugar to a simmer, add the agar and mix with an immersion blender. Strain and pour into a rectangular pan, then put into fridge to set. Once set, cut into cubes.

Goat Cheese Panna Cotta
ingredients:
1 ounce goat cheese
1/4 teaspoon gelatin
1/4 cup cream
1 vanilla bean
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons sour cream
directions:
Bloom gelatin in 1 tablespoon cold water. Being cream, scrapings from the vanilla bean, and sugar to a simmer, then blend in goat cheese until melted. Add gelatin and blend with immersion blender, then add in the sour cream. Pour into shallow bowls and chill until set.

Pain de Gênes à la Pistache
ingredients:
56 grams pistachios
1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
Pinch salt
1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
4 tablespoons butter, softened and cut into chunks
21 grams flour
1/8 teaspoon baking powder
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a 6-inch cake pan.
Pulse pistachios, salt, and sugar into a finely ground meal in a food processor. Add eggs and butter and pulse until thoroughly combined. Add the flour and baking powder and pulse until combined.
Spread batter into pan and bake for about 30 minutes, until a cake tester comes out clean.

Raspberry Spheres
ingredients:
100 g raspberry purée
25 g sugar
2.4 g calcium lactate gluconate
500 g low calcium water
2.5 g sodium alginate
25 g sugar
directions:
Prepare the alginate bath: heat water just to dissolve sugar, then add in sodium alginate and blend until completely dissolved. Allow to settle and cool overnight.
Blend the puree, sugar, and calcium lactate gluconate until homogeneous. Spoon into hemispherical silicon molds and freeze until solid.
To make the spheres, drop the frozen purée into the bath and leave for 4 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon and rinse in clean water.

Raspberry Curd:
adapted from Luscious Berry Desserts by Lori Longbotham
ingredients:
3 tablespoons butter, cut into chunks
5 ounces raspberries
2 egg yolks
Pinch salt
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
directions:
Bring raspberries and sugar to a boil, then press through a fine mesh sieve. Whisk in the egg yolks and salt, then bring to a simmer over low heat, whisking constantly.
Once the curd comes to a simmer, remove from heat and whisk in butter until curd is smooth and silky.

Raspberry Gelée
ingredients:
1 teaspoon gelatin
1.1 ounces water
4 ounces frozen raspberries, thawed
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
directions:
Bloom gelatin in water.
Boil raspberries and sugar together, then press through a fine mesh sieve.
Stir in lemon juice and gelatin mixture, then use immediately and place in refrigerator to set.

Rosewater Meringues
ingredients:
60 g egg whites (should be two-ish, feel free to just use 2)
75 g sugar
Pinch cream of tartar
1/2 teaspoon rosewater
directions:
Preheat oven to 200 degrees F. Line a sheet pan with parchment.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk the eggs until foamy. Add in the cream of tartar and continue to whisk.
Slowly start adding the sugar, as the egg whites whip.
Continue to whip until the meringue is very stiff.
Beat in the rosewater.
Form large mounds using two spoons.
Bake for 11/2 hours, rotating midway through.
Turn off the oven, crack it open a bit, and allow the meringues to finish drying (the oven should be completely cool when you pull them out).

Candied Rose Petals
From Alice Waters
ingredients:
Unsprayed rose petals
1 egg white
1 cup superfine sugar
directions:
Brush the petals on both sides with the egg white, then lightly dip the petal in the sugar. Lay them out on a wire rack and allow them to dry at least a few hours to overnight.

March 18, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Handle With Care

Here I was, thinking it was almost spring.

I got bold, even walking my dog without a coat, exclaiming to passerby, “feels like spring!”

I thought greedy thoughts, about fresh strawberries and rhubarb, about green grass and flowers.

It’s been snowing intermittently for the past three days.

It’s cold and grey, once again.

And to be honest, not a one of my town’s inhabitants is surprised.

This weather is all too typical.

Our spring is fragile, tender.
Tonight, we may even have an ice storm. I look outside right now and see flakes pouring down , whirling in strong gusts of wind.

But what is there to do but to enjoy the brief spans while we can?

Snow comes, melts, flowers spring forth, life begins again.

I’m patiently waiting.

In like a lion, out like a lamb.

These cookies are as fragile as Ithaca’s first sign of spring.

They’re crispy on the outside, and filled with a gloriously honey-laden curd.

They’re a relatively healthy little treat, one that is so light that it melts on the tongue.

I’ll enjoy these little snow caps for now, as I wait for those outside my window to melt.

Honey-Ginger Grapefruit Curd

adapted from 101 Cookbooks

ingredients:

1/2 cup freshly squeezed grapefruit juice

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons honey

1 egg yolk

1 egg

big pinch sea salt

juice of 1/2 a lemon

juice from a 1/2 inch piece of ginger, grated and pressed through a strainer

directions:

Reduce the grapefruit juice by half in a small saucepan; bring to a simmer and allow to reduce. Juice will still be thin- don’t worry. Allow to cool for 2 minutes.

In another saucepan, whisk the eggs, butter, salt, and honey together.

Slowly drizzle in grapefruit juice while constantly whisking, until all is incorporated.

Stir in lemon and ginger juice.

Heat over low heat, whisking all the while, until curd has thickened (enough that when you drag a spatula across the bottom of the pan, the track stays clear for at least 3 seconds), butter has melted and incorporated, and the whole shebang looks very shiny and thick.

Remove from heat and press through a strainer. Discard any bits.

Chill until thickened.

Enjoy spread between cookies, in yogurt, or by the spoonful!

Simplest Meringue Cookies:

ingredients:

2 egg whites

1/2 cup sugar, pulsed in food processor for 30 seconds to make superfine sugar, or 1/2 cup superfine sugar

1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar

directions:

Preheat oven to 200 degrees F.

Line two baking sheets with parchment.

Combine your egg whites and cream of tartar in a very clean bowl and begin to whip.

Once they are foamy, slowly add about a tablespoon of sugar.

Continue to add in the sugar very gradually until all the sugar is gone and the meringue has reached stiff peaks.

Place the meringue in a piping bag fitted with a star tip and pipe small stars, or use two teaspoons to portion out little mounds.

Bake for 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 hours, rotating regularly to prevent overcooking in any one place.

Turn off the oven.

Once done, the meringues should still be white and should easily release from the parchment paper.

Allow to cool in the oven; prop the door open with a wooden spoon.

Allow to fully cool, then sandwich some curd between two and enjoy!

March 14, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Call Me Sally

So, I’m Irish.

Actually, I’m Korirish.

Korean on my mother’s side, and Irish on my father’s.

Bit of a strange mix, to be sure.

The one thing my family has figured that the two have in common is a love of cabbage.

This love has distilled into my passion for cruciferous vegetables.

Cauliflower, cabbage, brussels sprouts (I’m eating some right now, actually, with apples and goat cheese), broccoli, bok choy, kale; pretty much a comprehensive list of my favorite vegetables.

Love me some Brassica.

Um, not that I’m here to tell you about vegetables.

That’s not really my shtick, at least not on this here blog.

Oh! What the Koreans and the Irish also both love is beer.

(Cabbage+beer sounds like the most terrible and smelly hangover in the world waiting to happen.)

So due to the fact that St. Patrick’s Day is on Sunday and my Korean grandmother is visiting, I made cake. With beer.

Beer cake.

With homemade Bailey’s cream sandwiched between each layer.

Yeah, it is as much of a good thing as it sounds like.
Trust me on this one.

Now, it’s not the most traditional of Irish confections… But I’m certain it would be met with a hearty seal of approval in Ireland.

There’s browned Kerrygold butter, extra rich and nutty thanks to the higher fat content.

There’s Guinness, deep and dark, which adds a noticeable complexity to the cake.

There’s milk chocolate and coffee whipped cream, with a hefty dose of Bushmills whiskey.

There’s meringue, which actually is a well-loved Irish dessert.

Whether my ancestors are rolling in their graves, I know not.

Some fun facts about my Irish side:

“Sally,” actually, saileach, means willow in Gaelic.

There’s a barren field in Ireland called the Sally Gap- real talk, I’ve even been there.

It’s full of tumbleweeds and not much else.

Super. Exciting.

In 1908, John Sally, my great-great-grandfather, and his family immigrated to America.

Yadda yadda yadda.

Sally Gap Cake:

for the cake:

adapted from Nigella

ingredients:

1/2 cup Guinness

5 tablespoons Kerrygold butter (or other European butter)

3 tablespoons extra dark cocoa powder

1 cup sugar

3 tablespoons sour cream

1 egg

big honking splash vanilla extract (about 2 teaspoons)

1 cup AP flour

1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda

directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Grease and flour two 6-inch pans (I suspect 1 shallow 9- or 10- inch would work as well, but I’m not promising anything).

Brown the butter in a large saucepot.

Once it is fragrant and nutty, stir in the Guinness.

Allow to cook for 30 seconds, then remove from heat.

Stir in the sugar and cocoa powder.

Add the sour cream and vanilla and whisk well; add in the egg while whisking.

Dump the flour and baking soda on top of the wet ingredients (flour first), then whisk them in until a smooth batter forms.

Pour into prepared pans; bake for 35-38 minutes, until risen and firm to the touch; a toothpick should come out CLEAN (this is an extremely moist cake and if underbaked will be gooey).

for the mock Bailey’s cream filling:

ingredients:

1 1/4 cups heavy cream

1/4 teaspoon gelatin

1 small bar (I used regular ole Hershey’s) milk chocolate, melted

1 teaspoon espresso powder

pinch salt

2 splashes Irish whiskey

directions:

Sprinkle the gelatin over the cream and allow to sit for 1 minute.

Mix the cream with the espresso powder and salt, and whip to stiff peaks.

Add in the whiskey and milk chocolate and mix until fluffy and homogeneous.

for the chocolate frosting:

ingredients:

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled slightly

2 sticks of butter

2 cups confectioners’ sugar

pinch salt

2 teaspoons vanilla

1/4 cup cream

directions:

Put everything in a food processor and pulse until homogeneous.

for the Swiss meringue:

ingredients:

1 egg white

1/4 cup sugar

directions:

Put the white and sugar in a metal mixing bowl and place over a pan of simmering water.

Heat, whisking all the while, until mixture reaches 160 degrees F.

Remove from heat and whip on high until a stiff meringue forms, about 5 minutes.

Use immediately, as meringue will harden sooner than later.

Torch after decorating, if desired.

to assemble:

Torte the two layers; fill each with 1/3 of the bailey’s cream.
Frost the outside of the cake with the chocolate frosting; to smooth, use a warmed knife.

Mound the meringue in the center and torch it.

For the cleanest cuts, chill the cake slightly before cutting.

February 8, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

A Wise Man Once Said

My dearest readers, I have some frightening exciting news to share with you.

For the next four months or so, I will be embarking on a foray deep into the world of modernist cuisine AKA molecular gastronomy.

My best description goes something like this: modernist cuisine and molecular gastronomy sit squarely, and comfortably, at the crossroads of food, science, and art.

This weak explanation is strengthened by examples; the most highly sought-after and rated restaurants in the world, e.g. the late El Bulli, the Fat Duck, Alinea, wd-50, etc., are based in molecular gastronomy. These chefs are the best in the world, and they utilize precise techniques and unique flavor pairings to create transcendental dining experiences.

“But why,” say you?

This is a school assignment, that’s why.

A very unorthodox school assignment.

I am a second-semester senior in WISE English, a course which allows seniors to conduct sixteen weeks of independent study and research, in a field of their choosing.

Obviously, I chose dessert above all else.

Thus, I find myself making spreadsheets of costs of compounds like hydroxypropyl methylcellulose and calcium lactate gluconate, poring over endless lists of strange flavor combinations, and freezing and re-freezing my ice cream maker’s bowl.

There are many so-called “molecular gastronomy” techniques, but modernist cuisine is not all about tricks and chemicals. Much comes from the presentation of the food. Not every dish has to contain manipulated foodstuffs, but every plate has to be aesthetic.

Not to mention taste good!

I’m beyond excited. And terrified.

I currently have around 10 pounds of food-grade chemicals being shipped to my house. I have hemispherical molds and glucose and carbonated sugar and a .01 gram accuracy scale.

I think I’m ready; I’ve done my best to prepare myself.

I know that not everything will go the way I want it to, or the way it’s supposed to (see: my pitiful quenelles in these pictures. What is that strange pointy thing on the end?!? I haven’t the faintest.)

My goal is to have created many a fanciful and delicious composed dessert: not just a slice of cake or hunk of chocolate thrown on a plate with a schmear of sauce. I want to make high-quality restaurant desserts.

I want to push myself to try out as many techniques as I can: spherification, gelation, dehydration, carbonation, smoking, foams, making powders, etc. etc.

Sixteen weeks isn’t as much time as one would think; I’ll have to work quickly and in a timely manner.

So what does this mean for La Pêche Fraîche? Why am I even telling you this?

Because once a week, I will be sharing my thoughts, failures, and endeavors on this here blog, using it as part of my project journal.

This is not to say that my regular sweets won’t stick around; I’ll still post cookies and cakes and more pedestrian fare, but don’t be shocked when you click through and see something that doesn’t even look like food.

Whatever panic you might feel at that moment, rest assured that I’m feeling 10 times more.

I’m so glad to be sharing this with y’all. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Without any further ado, here’s my first shot at a composed dessert.

“Carly Simon”

espresso, chocolate, meyer lemon

(components, from base layer upwards)

bittersweet chocolate ganache

meyer lemon curd

firm chocolate and coffee grind “ganache” cubes

dark chocolate butter cookies

crumbled meyer lemon meringues

espresso ice cream with whipped cream “clouds” frozen in

fried meyer lemon zest

mocha dust

In the future, recipes will accompany. Right now, I’m just about ready to close this introductory post up, and that is just what I shall do.