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!
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.
 
by Rachel Sally

I Know Not

알 수 없는
(unknowable)
miso caramel
matcha black sesame shortbread
lychee sorbet
black sesame brittle
create an animated gif
This past week, I’ve been hemming and hawing over my WISE project.
We were assigned old journals to read and review, and I received a very strange journal which is not really relatable to my project.
I felt confused as I flipped through the pages; its author and I not only have very different projects, but very different writing styles and ideas of what a WISE journal should consist of.
 
Cue panicked tailspin.
The first thoughts through my head: Am I doing it wrong?!
What happens if I am?!
Why isn’t mine like that?!
I went and talked to my mentor, Mr. B.
He shut those ideas right down; relax, you’re doing fine, everyone’s different and all projects are different, I’ve seen lots of others, etc.  Relax.
Breathe.
So here’s the thing, then: I know my journal is doing fine, and my weekly blog posts are alright, too.
I just can’t get this nagging voice out of my head when I sit down to write:
Are you doing it right?
Do you sound educated?
People will be reading this and judging you, you know.
Are you sure you want to say that?
No, no, no!  Start again.  Start over.  Rewrite that sentence; rewrite that post.
I’m sorry that this post is so long overdue.  
By now the dessert has run into the recesses of my mind; it has hidden in the depths.
I don’t know if my WISE project is right or good or whatever.
I can’t know; it is such a part of me that my own critical judgment falls by the wayside.
It is a part unto my whole, and it is thus that I am blinded.
 
“Freeing oneself from words is liberation.”
-Bodhidharma
I put the other journal away.  I’ll read it sometime next week, perhaps next weekend.
For now, I will write.
알 수 없는:

for the miso caramel:
adapted from food52
ingredients:
25 g sugar
10 g water
20 g heavy cream, room temperature or slightly warmer
1 teaspoon shiro miso
directions:
Put the sugar and water in a heavy bottomed saucepan and bring to a boil.  
Allow to cook until the caramel is deep amber; remove from heat and immediately stir in heavy cream, whisking all the while.
Mixture will splatter and bubble and steam; beware.
Once all the cream is incorporated, stir in the miso.
If you want a slightly thinner sauce, you can stir in up to 2 tablespoons more heavy cream.

for the matcha shortbread:
ingredients:
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons plus 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons matcha powder
pinch sea salt
5 drops vanilla extract
5 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon milk
black sesame seeds for mixing in, if desired
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Cream the butter and sugar together until very fluffy and pale.  
Add the matcha, vanilla, and sea salt and mix to combine.  
Add in the flour and milk and mix just until homogeneous.
Stir in up to 2 teaspoons of sesame seeds.
Roll out to 1/8- 1/4 of an inch thickness.  
Cut small rounds using the back of a pastry tip.
Bake for 5-6 minutes, until fragrant and firm to the touch.
(Larger cookies will take longer; perhaps 7 or so minutes per batch.)

for the lychee sorbet:
ingredients:
1 can lychees in light syrup
directions:
Drain half the syrup, discard.
Purée the fruits and the rest of the syrup, then press through a sieve.
Freeze the resulting juice in an ice cream maker.

for the black sesame brittle:
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon black sesame seeds
directions:
Place the sugar in a small, heavy bottomed pan.  
Line a sheet pan with a silpat (cannot use parchment).
Caramelize the sugar until it is amber colored; working quickly, stir in the sesame seeds and spread as thinly and evenly as possible on the silpat.
Take caution, as the caramel is extremely hot.
Allow to cool completely, then break up into organic shapes.

to assemble:
Schmear the miso caramel.  
Add a few matcha shortbread cookies, then a few scoops of sorbet.  
Finish with the brittle.  
Serve immediately.

by Rachel Sally

Googolplexian

 
A googolplexian is 
 
1010100 .
 
For a rough estimate, just count the number of layers in this cake. 
I mean, really.
I’m an exaggerator.  It’s true.  Always have been, always will be.
 
Now, my family calls it being a drama queen, diva, prima donna, etc.
 
They’re exaggerating.
Just who do you think I got it from?!
 
But seriously, guys.  
When I make crêpes, I feel like I’ve made a hundred thousand million and I look at the stack and there’s like six sitting there, plus the one in my mouth.
Talk about disheartening.
 
I’ve tried to make crêpe cakes before.
 
I must will myself not to eat them fresh and hot from the pan and I must will myself to stay at the stove making stupid pancake after pancake until I can take no more.
(And/or have had my fill of fresh, hot crêpes.)
 
Then, after hours and hours of tending to a flaming hot stove, I, ever stoical and composed goddess of patience, must wait for them to cool.
HA!  Fooled you, didn’t I?
Like heck I’m waiting for crêpes to cool… I’ve got things to do and places to see.
 
Ain’t nobody got time for dat.
 
I slap those suckers together with some filling, then stand back to admire what I expect to be a lovely little French pastry.
I’m never happy with what I behold.
 
It’s like getting a hairless cat instead of that damn poodle I was promised at the beginning of this whole ordeal.
 
They never stand above two inches tall, and they’re always droopy instead of ruffly and prim.  They’re not flavorful enough.
They’re boring AND ugly.  
A real winning combination…
 
So why are you staring at a haphazard, not very ruffly, somewhat off-kilter crêpe cake right now?
Because I couldn’t stop thinking about layered crêpes.
Because I couldn’t get the flavor combination of banana and vanilla and apricot out of my head.
Because I wanted cake for breakfast, brunch, lunch, and linner that day.
Because I wanted said cake to be a semblance of something healthy.  Ya know.
This cake is whole-wheat, has very, very little sugar in it, less than a teaspoon of butter, and is chock full of protein and healthy fats, thanks to the greek yogurt, ricotta, hazelnuts, and coconut oil; most of the sweetness comes from the bananas, vanilla seeds, and tart California apricots.

This cake is thus approved for every meal of the day. 
 It’s not the shiniest spoon in the drawer, to be sure, but it tastes good.  It tastes real good.
 
(I can’t describe how much the asymmetry of that one darned hazelnut bothers me. 
Whyyyyy didn’t I fix it while the cake was still in existence?  
It will haunt me for the rest of my life.)


Banana Apricot Crêpe Cake
for the banana crêpes:
adapted from Smitten Kitchen
ingredients:
4 tablespoons coconut oil, melted
1 6 ounce banana, peeled
1 cup almond milk
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons white whole wheat flour
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons all purpose flour
4 eggs
2 tablespoons natural sugar
splash vanilla
big pinch sea salt
pinch each cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg
directions:
Whir all ingredients together in a food processor.  
Let batter rest for at least 20 minutes.
To make the crêpes, heat a 6 inch skillet up on medium high heat.
Brush with coconut oil- you should only have a thin film.
Pour about 2 tablespoons of batter into the pan and immediately swirl to coat the bottom of the pan.
Cook for 1 to 2 minutes until the top is cooked and the bottom is golden brown.  
To flip, use a spatula to pick up the edge, then gently use your fingers to pick up and flip the crêpe.  (Don’t be a baby.  It’s not that hot.)
Continue until all batter is used up.

for the Greek yogurt and ricotta filling:
ingredients:
1/3 -1/2 cup Greek yogurt, depending on how loose you want your filling and/or how thick you want the filling layers to be.  I used closer to 1/2 a cup.
1/3 cup part skim ricotta
1/3 cup powdered sugar
splash vanilla
pinch salt
directions:
Whisk all ingredients together.  Set aside and let thicken slightly.

for the apricot-vanilla compote:
ingredients:
15 dried California apricots
1 vanilla bean or 2-3 already used pods (I fished some used ones out of my sugar)
boiling water
directions:
Roughly chop the apricots.  
Place in a heat safe bowl with the vanilla pod (cut the pod up into 2 1/2 inch chunks if it is whole).  
Pour boiling water over to cover completely.  
Allow to sit for 15 minutes, until the apricots are softened and there are vanilla seeds floating in the water.
Drain most of the water, reserving 2-3 tablespoons.  
Scrape the insides of the vanilla beans out and place in a food processor along with the reserved water and the apricots.  
Pulse until a slightly chunky paste forms.  Set aside.

for the caramel sauce:
adapted from the NYT
ingredients:
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons light cream
1/2 tablespoons butter
big pinch of sea salt (around 3/4 teaspoon)
directions:
Add the sugar and water to a heavy bottomed saucepan and cook on medium heat until light amber, 5-7 minutes.  
Remove from heat and immediately stir in cream.  
Mixture will bubble and steam, so beware.  
Whisk in butter and salt; use before completely cooled.  
To loosen it up again before use, microwave it for a few seconds until it is liquid.

to assemble:
Cut up a large banana into thin slices.  
Begin layering the crepes, spreading each with yogurt filling, then either banana slices or apricot filling.  
Alternate the banana and apricot.  
Once your last crêpe is on the cake, pour the caramel over top.  
If desired, you can stack some toasted hazelnuts on top before pouring the caramel.  
Allow the caramel to set slightly, then serve.

by Rachel Sally

Knockoff

Not all knockoffs are like that fake Juicy Couture bag I bought at the Silk Market in Beijing.
 
The one which turned out, once inspected in a brighter lighting and clearer mindset, to be a brown-and-pink diaper bag with a malfunctioning zipper.
Take these cookies, for example.  They’re a take on those lovely, pillowy “Lofthouse” style sugar cookies that you can buy in every single supermarket in America.
You know the ones… They come in packages of six or ten or so, generally with pink or blue Crisco-based “butter”cream icing adorned with heaps of sprinkles, which, during appropriate holiday rushes, change into seasonally themed icing and sprinkles.
 
They’re so bad…. But so very, very soft.  And hard to resist.
 
Editor’s note:
[While perusing their website, which took an inordinately long time to load, discovered that they now come in red velvet [?!] and frosted with nerds [?!!].  Suspicious whether this is good idea or very, very bad one.  Must say, nerds are great.  
Therefore still on fence about nerd-frosted sugar cookies.
 
Also noted: holidays featured are Easter, Halloween, 4th of July, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, and Thanksgiving.
Wonderful!!! All imaginable holiday cookie needs covered! 
 
Perusing further, discovered watermelon and sugar plum flavored sugar cookies (and, of course, ubiquitous and gratuitous pumpkin).
 
Must ask what a sugar cookie designed to mimic sugar plum even tastes like?
Best guess: saccharine.
 
Watermelon?  Can only think of sticking Hubba Bubba into a cookie and dyeing the whole thing bright green.  Mmmmm refreshing.
 
Nearly done with snottiness.  
Blue-, pink-, yellow- and white-frosted cookies considered disparate flavors/groups?!
Found one difference: which number dye goes in at end of mixing time.
 
Last and most important point: how does “purple-boo” icing taste?  And why not kosher?]
Oh, and actually…  Props to Lofthouse for trying to be more eco-friendly.  It’s hard for me to love the cookies anymore, but I sure as heck appreciate that.
 
Here.  Now that you’ve endured an entire post of whining and carrying on, why don’t you enjoy a big, fat, soft cookie with a sweet, buttery swirl of icing on top?
These cookies are wonderful.  So soft and fluffy, perfectly offset by a mound of buttercream.  I also made free-form rose flavored sprinkles/shards to top the whole thing off.
Subtle, and not overly perfume-y.  Just what I was going for.  
I don’t want people thinking I poured a bottle of my nicest Chanel into my cookies.  Feel me?

I loved this recipe… Easy and produced great results.  I highly recommend it!



Faux Lofthouse Sugar Cookies
ingredients:
6 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 ounces( 16 tablespoons) butter, softened
2 cups granulated sugar
3 eggs
1 teaspoon (I added much more… I like vanilla) vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups sour cream
directions:
Stir together the flour, baking powder, soda, and salt.  
In the bowl of a mixer, cream the butter and sugar together.  Scrape the sides.
Beat in the eggs, one at a time.  Scrape the sides.
Beat in the vanilla and sour cream just until combined.
Mix in the dry ingredients just until the dough comes together and is fully mixed.
Divide into 2 disks and refrigerate for at least two hours.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.  Line sheet pans with parchment or silpats.
Lightly dust a clean surface with flour, and turn one of the refrigerated disks out. 
Roll out to a thickness of 1/4 inch, then cut out desired shapes.
Bake for 7 minutes, then let cool on wire racks.
Gather scraps, refrigerate for a little (10 minutes) if they are becoming warm and elastic, then re-roll.
Repeat with other dough.
 
American Buttercream Frosting
ingredients:
1 stick butter
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon confectioner’s sugar, sifted
big pinch of salt
splash of vanilla extract
1 tablespoon of cream, as needed
directions:
Beat the butter until smooth and fluffy.  
Sift in the sugar, add the salt and vanilla extract, and beat on low speed until incorporated.
Beat on high speed for about 20 seconds, until everything is homogeneous.  If the frosting is thick, add some cream or milk in small increments until it is spreadable.
Spread a thick layer onto each cookie, leaving a slight mound in the center of the cookie.  Spin the cookie while lightly pressing down in the center to create a small well for your sprinkles!
 
Rose Shards:
Use this recipe (brilliant!), but add in a drop of rosewater and spread it very thinly and evenly over a sheet of parchment instead of piping lines out.  Let dry completely, then break apart into little shattered pieces.  Use it to garnish the frosted cookies.  
 
 
by Rachel Sally

Field of Dreams

Ruby strawberries
gleam with early morning dew
oh! how they sparkle!
 
Gosh, for some reason it feels like forever since I’ve blogged.  
(Separation anxiety! It’s been two whole days!)
This past week has been pretty hectic.  
Now that I think about it, I made this dessert an entire weekend ago.  
 
I found inspiration in the combination of celery and strawberry, which I first saw in one of Chef Michael Laiskonis’ desserts, whom I draw immense inspiration from. 
 
At first glance, it seems awkward belonging more to the class of salads than desserts, I know.
But the slight floral undertones of the celery are play nicely with the sweetness of the strawberry, and the tartness of that same purée works magically with the ganache upon which it is splattered.
 
I am in love with Christina Tosi’s celeriac ganache.  I tweaked it only a tiny a bit, to fit my own tastes and needs, and good Lord almighty, I did not expect to get what I got.
Silky, creamy, and dare I say unctuous.
Sweet, a tad spicy, and woody.
Milky, but with immense body.
I mean, goodness!  If it’s the one thing you make from this blog, do it.  
For you and for me and for Chef Christina.
Sandwich it between cookies or slather it on a cake or a pie or whatever.  A cracker would suit me nicely, but I’m not below sticking my finger in the bowl and getting every last bit with a swipe.
It’s that good.  It’s indescribably delicious.  And I hate celery and celeriac, people!  
But I l-u-r-v-e-d this.
Also, a quick update from this weekend’s work:  
I had big plans for a dessert, one featuring classic flavors in unexpected ways.
It didn’t exactly pan out.  
My blueberry caviar were, um, mealy- using a thick blueberry purée instead of a juice was not my best call- and because I was making caviar, I couldn’t freeze them for reverse spherification.  
I braved onward, setting up a CaCl2 bath and attempting to incorporate some sodium alginate into the purée, but, it really, really did not work.
There were too many bits left in my purée, even after two passes through a fine-meshed sieve.
So, what did I do?
I gave up.  
“Totally fine,” I assured myself, as I  bookmarked my notes and my recipes for another day, “I’ll get it.  Just not this weekend.”
 
(However, I did make an entirely new dessert today.  I’ll post it sooner rather than later.)
Field of Dreams:
celeriac ganache
strawberry purée
white chocolate panna cotta
strawberry film
lemon ice cream
candied celery leaves
burnt pine nut brittle

 

Field of Dreams:

For the lemon ice cream:
adapted from Jeni’s
ingredients:
122 g milk
1 tsp cornstarch
75 g cream
33 g sugar
1 1/2 tsp glucose
Pinch kosher salt
11 g mascarpone
1 1/2 tsp sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Lemon zest, peeled with a vegetable peeler
Directions:
Mix the milk, cornstarch, cream, sugar, glucose, and salt together with an immersion blender until smooth.  
Cook over low heat until thickened, about 6 minutes; drop the lemon zest in and let steep/cook along with it.  
Meanwhile, cook the lemon juice and 1 1/2 tsp sugar in a small pan until a thin syrup forms, about 3 minutes.  Set aside to cool.
Once the base is thickened, remove from heat and chill for at least 3 hours, until cold and even thicker.  
Fish the lemon zest out and churn in an ice cream maker.  
Pour in the lemon syrup while it churns.  
Spread into a loaf pan and freeze.

For the white chocolate panna cotta:
adapted from Saveur
ingredients:
6 tbsp milk
1/4 cup cream
3 ounces white chocolate
Pinch sea salt
1/2 tsp gelatin
directions:
Bloom gelatin for 3 minutes in 2 tablespoons of the milk.  
Meanwhile, heat the remaining cream and milk to simmering.  Add in the bloomed gelatin and stir to dissolve gelatin.
Pour the hot milk/cream over the chopped white chocolate and salt in a bowl.
Allow to sit for 1 minute untouched, then whisk to combine and smooth.
Pour into molds and chill until firm, at least 4 hours.

For the celeriac ganache:
adapted from Christina Tosi’s celery root ganache
70 g celery root purée (from 1 small celeriac, peeled and chopped, roasted at 400 degrees F wrapped in an aluminum foil packet with a drizzle of grapeseed oil and a sprinkle of salt and pepper for 30 minutes, or until mushy-tender, puréed in a food processor until silky, then passed through a fine meshed sieve)
35 g white chocolate
10 g butter
12 g glucose
20 g heavy cream
directions:
Heat the white chocolate, butter, and glucose up together in a microwave, gently.  
Once mostly melted, mix with an immersion blender.  
Drizzle the cream in while blending.  The mixture should be very smooth.
Blend in the celery root; don’t overmix.  
Stop when the mixture is homogeneous and very, very silky.

For the strawberry film:
ingredients:
80 g fresh strawberry juice, mixed with 40 g cold water
1/2 tsp gelatin
1.5 g agar
directions:
Bloom the gelatin in 50 g of the juice mixture.  
Blend the agar into the rest of the juice with an immersion blender and simmer for 3 full minutes over medium heat.  
Stir in the bloomed gelatin until dissolved.  
Remove from heat and spread very thinly on a sheet pan lined with a silpat (has to be a silpat. Not parchment). 
Let cool and solidify for 5 minutes; you can then peel , slice, and use the sheet.
To cover the panna cottas, cut out squares of film about the size of your panna cotta, then lightly drape over top.  You can then cut the panna cottas into nice, even squares (Always cover the panna cotta with film before slicing.).

For the candied celery leaves and pine nut brittle:
Preheat oven to 175 degrees F.
Combine 2 tablespoons sugar with 1 tablespoon water in a small, heavy sauce pan.  
Heat until the sugar dissolves and the syrup thickens, about 3 minutes on low heat.  
Remove from heat and let cool to a warm temperature, cool enough that you will be able to dunk your fingers into it, about 8-10 minutes.  
Dip celery leaves into the syrup (you can make lots, I made about 6 as that’s all I needed), and squeeze most of the excess syrup off with your fingers.  It will be sticky; don’t scrape all the syrup off, though.  
Place on a parchment paper lined sheet tray and bake until crispy, 10-15 minutes; the sugar will crystallize.  I moved my leaves to a wire cooling rack on top of the sheet tray after about 8 minutes so that they would be crunchy all around.
With the remaining syrup, make pine nut brittle.  
Heat the syrup over medium heat until it turns amber colored.  
Working quickly, stir in a small handful of pine nuts and pour the whole mixture out onto a silpat lined sheet tray.  
Smooth it out as evenly as possible; DO NOT TOUCH the sugar because it is incredibly hot.  
Allow to cool to room temperature, then break up into small pieces.

To assemble:
Schmear a large portion of celeriac ganache onto the base of the plate.  
Splatter strawberry purée in a random and organic pattern on top.
Place two small cubes of panna cotta onto the plate, then add a quenelle of lemon ice cream.
Garnish with a few small pieces of pine nut brittle and candied celery leaves.

by Rachel Sally

Lover, Lover

Allow me to officially welcome you into National Peanut Month!
Today, the first, is National Peanut Butter Lovers Day!
(Fun fact: National Peanut Butter Day is January 24th, and National Peanut Lovers Day is March 15th.  
Also, National Peanut Butter Lovers Month is November.  
There are also peanut -brittle, -cluster, -and Jelly Sandwich, -butter cookie, -festival, -butter fudge, and chocolate-covered peanuts days.
Apparently there are distinctions between them all… Let the PB lovers live their lives.)
 
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My dad loves peanut butter.
I’m talking PB&J every day for lunch for the rest of his life without ever getting tired of it.
Which is pretty much what he does.
The man loves PB&J… Genes that were not passed down to yours truly.
(And he prefers grape jelly… Yuck.)
He might be the greatest peanut butter lover on the planet.
(Although, to be honest, he could give two clucks about national whosamawhatsitpeanutbutter day.)
 
The only person being threatening his title is my pup, Ginger.  (Nyawww mon bébé!)
SHE could eat a scraped out peanut butter jar every ten minutes for the rest of her life and never get tired of it.
Sometimes, when she’s lucky, after my dad makes a peanut butter sandwich, she gets to lick the knife.  And even better, once we reach the end of a jar, she gets to lick the inside clean.
 
Ain’t she dainty?
Anyways, I like peanut butter alright.  I mean, it’s fatty, salty, nutty, slightly sweet; it hits me in all the right places and everything, but I just don’t lalalalove it.
However, I will use any excuse to write up an impromptu blog post/bake something stupidly decadent, and thus was born this cheesecake.
 
Peanut butter, creamy and sweet, buttery, caramelized Ritz crackers, and a deeply bittersweet ganache (with some peanut butter thrown in, for good measure).
There is a wonderfully decadent interplay of flavors going on in my belly here.
 
It’s kind of like a Reese’s cup, but creamier, chocolatier, crunchier, fresher, and, most importantly, you can have more of it, not two wimpy little nuggets in a orange coat.
Hmph.
Make it for the peanut butter lover in your life.
You will thank me after they sell you their soul.
 
(A note: follow the general instructions to get perfect cheesecakes every time, no cracks, no splits, no canyons.  Not guaranteed, but I pretty much promise kinda mostly.)
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So, I had to shoot these photos twice.  My camera misfired while importing or something, and none were transferred to my computer, but all were erased from my memory card.  
Not a happy camper.
Actually, a really angry camper.
 
*kicks tent down and walks away*
 
 
Peanut Butter Cheesecake

cheesecake, crust, and ganache adapted from Brown Eyed Baker, Milk Bar, and Sky High, respectively

ingredients:
24 ounces cream cheese
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
4 eggs
 
165 g Ritz Crackers (~1 1/2 sleeves)
150 g sugar (~3/4 cup)
30 g milk powder (~3/8 of a cup=6 tablespoons)
150 g (14 tablespoons) butter, melted
 
8 ounces chocolate (I used about 7 ounces bittersweet and 1 ounce milk chocolate)
3 tablespoons peanut butter
2 tablespoons glucose (or light corn syrup)
1/2 cup half-and-half
 
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Crush the Ritz crackers into cornflake-sized bits.  
Stir in the milk powder and sugar, then stir in the butter.  
Press into a greased 9-inch springform pan wrapped with two layers of aluminum foil to prevent leakage.
Bake for 12 minutes, until fragrant.
Meanwhile, prepare the filling.  First, put a kettle on to boil.
While beating the cream cheese at medium high speed, slowly add in the sugar.  Beat for at least 2 full minutes, until fluffy and completely smooth- no grit.
Scrape the sides of the bowl, then beat in the peanut butter, vanilla, and salt.
Scrape the bowl again, thoroughly, then, while beating at medium low speed, add in the eggs one at a time, beating between eggs.
Pour over the crust, and smooth the top with the back of a spoon.
Place into a roasting pan, then pour the boiling water around it (careful!) until it reaches about 3/4 of an inch of the way up the sides.
Bake for about 1 hour, until the cheesecake is mostly set, but still jiggles in the center.
As soon as it gets out of the oven, run a sharp knife around the edges to unmold them from the pan; this will prevent most cracks.
Now either let it cool to room temperature and then chill, or chill it right away.  It’s about 30 degrees out right now, and I just stick my cheesecakes straight out into my sun room.
For the ganache, put the chopped chocolate, peanut butter, and glucose in a bowl, and heat the half-and-half up until simmering.
Pour over the chopped chocolate, and let sit for 2 minutes, undisturbed.  
Whisk until the ganache comes together, shiny and smooth. 
(Can be made ahead, just reheat gently in the microwave until flowing before use.)
Unmold the cheesecake from the pan, place on a serving plate, and pour the ganache over top.  Allow to cool and set before serving.

*[Nerdy] Update on the photos: 
Was shooting in RAW mode, not RAW plus jpg like I normally do.  
Forgot that Windows Live doesn’t automatically download .CR2 files; instead, for God knows what reason, they were automatically routed to the recycle bin (that’s the misfire part).  
Found all photos in said bin.  
Kicked myself repeatedly.  
Downloaded Canon software.  
Spent 30 minutes converting all .CR2 files to jpegs for editing.  
Then spent 30 more minutes editing due to noise due to the necessary high ISO used while shooting due to the fact that I decided to shoot at 10:00 pm.
Long story short, I hate .CR2s.  
Also, sorry for the grain, especially on that second gif.  
Woof.
by Rachel Sally

Doux-Amer

Sometimes, you see something you really, really wish you hadn’t.

A text or a phone call, an email or a photograph, numbers on a scale or old pants, a person, a place, a thing: a reminder of days gone by.  

The kind of thing that instantly feels like a little stone in the pit of your stomach.
The feeling that makes the tips of your ears red and the ends of your fingers cold. 
That dead weight right in the middle of your body that is the exact opposite of butterflies.

You know what I’m talking about.
We’ve all been there.

It happens.  We see it.
And it sucks.  
The mildest form of it is like a buzzing gnat of regret, purely annoying and easily swattable; the worst, a punch in the gut.
 
It’s the things you could have gone your whole life without seeing, the ones that tug the hardest on your heartstrings or stab the deepest into the recesses of your mind, that produce the most confounding emotions (of course).
 
The tears that come, inevitably, are the saddest and the sweetest- and the saltiest- of all.
There are no bad memories or experiences without good ones preceding.
 
It’s off the good which we measure the bad.
It’s not easy to let bygones be bygones.  
However, it is true that at some point, you will be rudely reminded of an unsatisfactory or tender moment of your past, and it will hurt, and you will have to let it go; you will have to accept it for exactly what is was, and exactly what it wasn’t.
 
We cannot change the past, which is a sad and terrifying reality which few can easily come to terms with; the rest of us have to simply put up with our own mortal inclinations and wishes. 
Such is life.
 
We spend our lives wishing, hoping, working to change the past or future; we must never forget, in the instantaneous moment of the present, that our attempts may be in vain, and to appreciate the fact that that lost effort is okay.  
It’s human. 
We have to embrace the mistakes in the past and those to come, and in doing so, accept the profound emotions which accompany them.
 
La mélancolie et le bonheur… Les emotions douces-amères.
 
Bittersweet.
What you see here is a matcha cake with tangy cream cheese frosting.  
The green tea imparts just a slight herbaceous and umami quality; it’s fragrant and well offset by a sweet, sticky icing.
 
I made it ombré by varying the amount of tea and adding a touch of green food coloring. 
I actually grind my own matcha powder out of loose leaf in a coffee grinder.  (If you want to do the same, make sure your grinder is 100% clean by grinding some plain rice into powder in it before adding the tea.  Coffee will distort the flavor and color of the matcha.) 
The white chocolate roses that I made out of homemade modelling chocolate were just the right finishing touch, I think.  
The cake is, appropriately, aigre-doux: bittersweet.
Yeah, I saw it.  
I felt bad for a minute or two.  I might even have had a short, ugly, and relieving cry.  
Then I had a piece of cake.  And you know what?  
It was delicious.
 
Ombré Matcha Cake
ingredients:
4 ounces unsalted butter, softened
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons sugar
3 egg whites
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 ½ cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
¾ cup milk
1 scanttablespoon, 1 ½ teaspoons, and ¾ teaspoon matcha powder, divided
a tiny bit of leaf green gel food coloring
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  
Butter and flour as many 6- or 8- inch pans as you have; you will end up with four layers, so if you have 2 pans, just bake two of the layers, cool and clean the pans, and bake the second two layers.  
Cream together the butter and sugar for about 2 minutes, until very fluffy and pale yellow; beat in the vanilla and egg whites until combined.  
Whisk the dry ingredients together in a separate bowl.  
Add to the butter mixture, alternating with the milk; start and finish with the dry.  
Divide your batter in half as evenly as possible (I weigh mine out), then divide those in half, too.  
Pour one quarter of the batter into a pan as is.  
Add 1 scant tablespoon of matcha and 2 drops green food coloring to one bowl, in another, add 1 ½ teaspoons matcha plus 1 drop green food coloring, and in the third, add only ¾ teaspoon matcha.  
Stir each well, and pour into prepared pans.  
Bake for 15-17 minutes.  
Allow to cool for 15 minutes, then remove from pans and cool completely.
 
For the [tangy] frosting:
ingredients:
4 ounces sour cream (a heaping ½ cup)
8 ounces cream cheese
4 ounces butter, softened
3 cups powdered sugar, sifted
pinch salt and dash vanilla extract
directions:
Beat the butter and cream cheese together until fluffy and pale.  
Add in the sour cream, vanilla, salt, and sugar, and beat on low speed until combined.
 
To assemble the cake:
Torte (level) your layers if need be, then layer them, starting with the darkest.  
Don’t add too much frosting between the layers, because the ombré effect will be slightly less cool.  
Frost the outside of the cake as desired!  
[Note: this frosting is not pipeable.  Instead, go for homestyle swirls, homeboy.]
by Rachel Sally

L’Aube

Le soleil se reveille.
Les villes sont illuminées; le petit matin scintille avec des rayons de soleil.
On apprécie toujours les couleurs vives.  
Le jaune clair se transforme et devient le jaune doré.  
Le soleil s’étire et ainsi, le jour est réalisé.
The sun rises.
Cities are illuminated; the dawn sparkles with sunbeams.
The bold colors are always appreciated.
Pale yellow morphs and becomes gold.
The sun stretches and thus, the day is realized.

I’m dreaming of bright sun and warmth.  The winter is dragging its feet out the door, and I’m ready for the transition from gray to green.
I mean, really.
 
This tropical produce-inspired dessert didn’t help much.
I don’t know whether my desire for a beach inspired the dessert, or whether the dessert inspired the desire.
Dessert-inspired desire or desire-inspired dessert?
 
These mango spheres, which look like farm-fresh yolks, were just short of mind-blowing. 
You can actually handle them like egg yolks; they’re not overly delicate, but when they hit your tongue, they release a lovely mango purée, fragrant and sweet.
 
I was so enamored with them that I also whipped up a small batch of sticky coconut rice (black forbidden rice cooked in coconut milk with a pinch of glutinous rice flour, then topped with a reduced coconut milk and jaggery sauce) to serve underneath them as a pre-dessert; it was a textural play on sticky rice with mangoes, a popular dish where I live.
 
I wish the fennel purée had been a bit smoother, but the fibrous nature of fennel was working to my detriment.  I was content with the flavor (mild, gingery, and a creamy foil to the acidic lime and pineapple), but I wish it had been just a bit silkier.  
I know that root vegetables tend to make smoother purées, so in the future, I may stick to roots rather than bulbs like fennel.
I plated this dish to look like its namesake: a sunrise.  I played around with the look of a sunny-side up egg, also an indicator of morning.  
With a tropical flavor profile and nouveaux textures, this dessert wakes you right up.
 
L’aube
Ginger-fennel purée
Brûléed pineapple
Lime pâte de fruit
Coconut flan
Mango spheres


L’Aube

For the coconut flan:
ingredients:
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1 (14 ounce) can coconut milk
Big pinch sea salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 eggs
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degreees F.
Place 1/2 cup sugar in a heavy saucepan and heat until it caramelizes and turns a deep amber, about 7 minutes.
Immediately pour into a 9-inch cake pan, swirling to coat the bottom.  If it hardens before you coat the entire bottom, simply heat the cake pan up over low heat on a burner until the caramel becomes liquid again.
Put a kettle on to boil.
In a bowl, whisk the eggs, vanilla, and second sugar measurement together briskly until lighter yellow colored and foamy.
In another saucepan, heat the salt and coconut milk until simmering.
Whisking constantly, slowly stream the hot milk into the eggs until all is incorporated. Pour into caramel coated pan.
Place the pan in a deep roasting pan and pour the boiling water in until the water is 3/4 of the way up the sides.
Bake for 35-40 minutes, until the flan is set around the edges but still slightly wiggly in the center.
Leave in water bath for 5 minutes, then remove from the bath and move to refrigerator for at least 12 hours.
To turn it out, place a plate with a slight rim on top of the cake tin, and quickly flip over.
To cut circles, use a circular cookie cutter.
For the mango spheres:
100 grams frozen or fresh mango
2 g calcium lactate gluconate
For the bath:
1400 g low-calcium water
65 g sugar
6 g sodium alginate
Directions:
Purée the mango until very smooth; push through a sieve to remove any particulate matter; mix in the calcium lactate with an immersion blender.
Pour into a hemispherical mold and freeze completely.
For the bath:
Heat up the sugar and water until sugar is dissolved, about 3 minutes.
Add in the alginate and mix very well with an immersion blender.
Allow to sit for at least 6 hours to allow any air bubbles to escape.
Remove the purée from the mold and place frozen spheres directly into alginate bath.  Leave for 4 minutes; do not allow the spheres to touch each other.
Remove with a slotted spoon and place in clean water.  (Do not serve immediately because the cores will still be frozen; wait at least 1 hour.)
To store, either store in clean water or water mixed with mango juice in the fridge.  Can be stored for up to one week.
For the lime pâte de fruit:
Adapted from the October 2010 issue of O magazine
Ingredients:
1/4 cup lime juice
Zest of one lime
3/4 cup unsweetened applesauce
1 teaspoon powdered pectin
1 1/4 cup sugar
Directions:
Lightly oil a 6″ pan.
Combine sugar, juice, zest, applesauce, and pectin in a heavy bottomed saucepan.  Heat, stirring constantly to prevent scorching, until mixture reached 225 degrees F.  Stir in some green food coloring, if desired.
Pour into prepared pan and sprinkle extra sugar on top.  Allow to cool completely, then cut out small cubes, toss in sugar, and allow to completely firm up overnight.
For the ginger-fennel purée:
Okay.  I’m going to be honest.  I roasted a fennel bulb, threw in some grated ginger, added some heavy cream, some white chocolate, salt, etc, until I was satisfied.  There wasn’t a… um… recipe per se.  I just winged it; I’m sure you can do the same.  Sorry!
For the brûléed pineapple:
Clean a pineapple, remove the core, and cut into desired shapes.  (I did a rectangular prism).  Sprinkle with sugar, brûlée, then flip onto the next side.  Repeat for at least three of the longer sides so that all visible sides

To assemble:
Schmear the purée on the base of the plate.  
Place 2 pieces of brûléed pineapple flush to the bottom of the plate.  
Arrange 3 lime pâtes de fruit organically around the plate.
Slide a flan above the pineapple; do not let it touch the purée.  
Finally, using a slotted spoon, transfer two mango spheres to the plate.

by Rachel Sally

Yes, Chef

I’m still in shock, guys.  

I managed to weasel my way into getting an interview with Christina Tosi.

 

 

Every time I say that, I do a double take.  She has long been a source of inspiration and recipes for me.  Her book, Milk Bar, is a wealth of ideas, and chock full of helpful hints (hello, 10 minute creaming?  Best.  Cookies.  Ever.).  

The pages of my cookbook are dusted with flour and occasionally stuck together with butter and bits of caramel.  (Savin’ dat for later.)
 
Confession time: I read Milk Bar.  Read as in, sit down with a cookie and read each and every recipe blurb and recipe.  I don’t know how many times I’ve done this.  It’s at least fifty.  I still laugh at all of the jokes and funny memories written between those pages.
Thus far, I’ve only found one teeny-tiny typo.  (This coming from someone who scours the Sunday NYT for typos and who usually finds one on the front page of the Style section…)  Color me impressed.Sigh.  I’m star struck.  
The not-so-photogenic pie you see in the photos was the famed crack pie.  What a fabulous recipe!  My god, it’s like buttery gold.  Worth every single calorie.
Without further ado, here’s the interview.

(I’m not including the recipe for crack pie as I want to encourage those who have any mild interest to purchase the book… Honestly, it’s one of the more useful and inventive cookbooks I own, and while it is no encyclopedia of baking, it still manages to pack in plenty of information and sugar.  You can find the recipes online, I’m sure, but I for one am a proponent of cookbooks.)

Chef Christina Tosi is the pastry chef of the Momofuku line of restaurants, which are owned and run by Chef David Chang; she herself runs the Momofuku Milk Barline of restaurants.  Her cooking style is self-described as “loud, delicious, textural, and fun.”  She is a genius when it comes to flavor pairings; she invents combinations like thai tea, lemon, and marscapone, or celery root and white chocolate, which are surprising and arresting in a most delicious sense.  In 2012, the James Beard Foundation named her Rising Chef of the Year; she was the only pastry chef in the category!

Rachel Sally: I think of you as America’s favorite pastry-chef-next-door, and as such, you have a huge influence on food trends; who or what do you view as your biggest influences?
Chef Christina: I think working in a broad range of bakeries, restaurants and food settings and situations really shaped me as a whole. I approached every job, even the ones I worked at for free as an opportunity to learn.  Also, my grandmas, the sweet toothed ladies that recognized my love for baking and my genetic sweet tooth!
 
R.S.:  Which cookbook or book has influenced you the most?
C.T.: The Magnolia Cookbook was one of my first favorite cookbooks as a teen when I was getting into the kitchen on my own terms. They had so many versions of cheesecake in there, breaking all the rules, adding whatever flavors and textures they wanted. I thought it was the coolest cookbook, and the best way to approach a classic like the cheesecake with reckless abandon!
 
R.S.:  What one word would you use to describe yourself and your cooking style?
C.T.: Soothing with a sense of humor.
 
R.S.:  Do you work well under pressure?
C.T.: I love working under pressure. I love being in just a little over my head. It’s how I function best. If you don’t like the same, you probably won’t like working at Milk Bar, but my feeling is if you can make IT happen under pressure, the sky is the limit.
 
R.S.:  Where do you find inspiration for flavor combinations?
C.T.: Everywhere and anywhere. The grocery store, the bodega on the way home. The dinner around the corner. Magazines, airplanes, fancy restaurants, Dairy Queen, T.V. You never know when inspiration can strike!
 
R.S.:  What is the most underrated flavor combination, in your opinion?
C.T.: Salt and pepper.
 
R.S.:  What one ingredient could you not live without?
C.T.: Salt!
 
R.S.:  What is your favorite food?
C.T.: Depends on my mood. I’d say this winter it’s acorn squash with butter, cinnamon and breakfast sausage!
 
R.S.:  What is your favorite composed dessert that you’ve ever made?
C.T.: Cereal milk panna cotta with avocado puree, chocolate hazelnut, cornflake crunch. [Editor’s note: Ohmagah]
 
R.S.:  How do you respond to negative criticism in regards to a dessert?  
C.T.: I take every opinion seriously and to heart. Not in a negative way, but in a double check myself way. Is there truth in the comment, is there something wrong, could it be better, do I really stand behind this dish or dessert? Humility and the ability to curb your ego, especially when under criticism, are very important.
 
R.S.: What tweaks do you make?
C.T.: Doesn’t mean you have to change a thing. Just means you have to be open and willing to check yourself and/or stand up for yourself.
 
R.S.:  Do you edit already existing and successful desserts?  
C.T.: We always edit existing desserts.
 
R.S.: Why do you?
C.T.: [We] always look for room for improvements, updating inspiration points. Sometimes we change elements, depths of flavor. Sometimes we’ll test a ton of stuff and never change a thing.
 
R.S.:  What is your best tip for dessert success?
C.T.: Stay true to yourself, your taste buds, your inspiration, your approach. But be open minded about feedback and criticism.
Still in disbelief.  Thank you, Chef!