Black Cake for Dad

My father is the only person I know who actually likes fruitcake. He used to share the love of it with my grandmother (my mother's mother), and the two of them would share fruitcake in the winter and mocha almond ice cream in the summer.

A few years ago, when my friend Annabelle of Calamity Shazaam in the Kitchen game me a sliver of black cake (literally a sliver, but it was so rich, I ate it over a few days - ok, it was probably more like a few hours), I knew I had found a kind of fruitcake that I could get behind, and one that I wouldn't mind baking.

And then I promptly forgot about it.

The idea of black cake popped back into my head for some reason this summer, and so I decided I would embark on the task of making some for my father for his birthday. I got the fruit soaking in rum, and then I had a hard time finding enough time to bake the cake, so the fruit ended up sitting for 3 weeks or so. The recipe says 3 to 5 days, but from what I've read, it's really a the-longer-the-better thing. The recipe also calls for soaking the baked cakes in more rum, but I personally don't like cakes with too much of a strong rum flavor, so I left that part out. The cakes have been fine in the freezer/fridge without the extra alcohol to keep them.

Since giving these cakes to my father a little over a month ago, he's already finished two of the four and is currently making his way through the third. Guess I'll have to bake him some more for Christmas.

Black Cake from Trinigourmet via Bite Me New England

Fruit Base
1 lb pitted prunes, chopped
1 lb raisins, chopped
1 lb currants
1 bottle dark rum
(I also added a few chopped apricots I had laying around)

Combine these in a large glass bowl at least 3 days before baking the cake. Cover and store in a cool, dry place.

Cake
1 lb brown sugar
1/2 cup boiling water
1 lb butter
1 lb sugar
8 eggs
2 tsp lime zest
2 tsp almond extract
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1 lb flour
4 tsp baking powder
2 1/2 tsp mixed spice (I used something like 1 1/4 tsp cinnamon, 1/2 tsp ginger, 1/2 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp cloves)

Blend fruit base in a blender or with an immersion blender. It should be thick and just a little chunky, like tomato sauce.

In a large pot, heat brown sugar over medium-high heat until caramelized (it will take on a darker quality). Add hot water carefully and mix well. Set aside to cool. This product is called browning. (I worked quickly so I didn't worry about it hardening, but apparently that can be an issue - watch out for it so you can get it out of the pan!)

Preheat oven to 250° (yes, I said two-fifty). Grease and line with parchment 4 8-inch round cake pans (you can play around the sizes and shapes as you'd like - I think this would be great in a bundt shape).

Cream together the butter and sugar. Add the eggs gradually, mixing to combine, then add zest and extracts. Sift together dry ingredients, then slowly add them to the creamed mixture. Mix in pureed fruit base and browning.

Pour batter into prepared pans (you don't have to worry too much about them rising). Bake for 3 hours (yes, 3 hours - it's only 250°, remember?). Cool in pans slightly before removing. If you're going to soak them in rum, now's the time.

Kiwi Avocado Nachos

If you've been following my sporadic posts this year, you know that I like to check out Kitchen Play for new (and often quirky) dishes to try. Every month, Kitchen Play hosts a dinner party with a theme, and most typically, the theme is an ingredient. June was Zespri Kiwi month, and I'm getting my entry in just under the wire.

My McDonald Meal offered up kiwi avocado bruschetta, and since I always love pairing avocado with fruit, I wanted to give it a try. But my gluten-free friend was joining us for dinner, so I swapped out the bread for tortilla chips. Of course, once I got around to cutting my avocado, I realized that it was way too soft to remain in chunks, and it mushed as soon as I looked at it. That's ok, I love guacamole, and what goes better with tortilla chips than guac?

I opted to use Scoops tortilla chips for presentation, but if you want to be more informal, just use regular chips and scatter in a glass baking dish before topping with cheese.

Kiwi Avocado Nachos inspired by My McDonald Meal
2 ripe avocados, mashed
2-3 kiwis, diced
1 tomato, deseeded and diced
Juice of 1 lime
salt and pepper to taste
1 bag tortilla chips
about 8 ounces shredded mixed mozzarella and cheddar

Preheat oven to 350°.

In a bowl, combine avocado, kiwi, tomato, and lime juice. Mix to incorporate everything and season to taste.

Arrange tortilla chips on a baking sheet (for Scoops) or in a glass baking dish (for regular tortilla chips). Sprinkle cheese on top and bake for a few minutes, until cheese is melted and just beginning to brown in spots.

Top with avocado mixture or just dip the chips right in.

Cherry Lime Pie

One of the funny things about family traditions is that it can be hard to tell that they're specific to your family only. Growing up, we had cherry pie every February for Presidents' Day. I mentioned this recently to one of my brothers, and he said "I thought Mom just liked cherry pie." I mentioned to some other people that I wanted to bake a cherry pie soon for the holiday, and almost no one saw the connection. Was this just specific to my family then?

Since cherries, along with almost every other kind of fruit, are out of season in the winter, I like using frozen dark cherries. They don't have quite the same flavor as sour cherries (the usual kind used for pie), but the addition of lime gives the cherries more depth. Cherries and lime just taste so bright and fresh, the perfect thing for a winter day.

I haven't included a recipe for the dough because everyone seems to have their favorite pie crust. I like all-butter dough. I was a little pressed for time this time, though, so I used store-bought dough. The outcome wasn't quite as good, but I was still happy with the overall pie.


Cherry Lime Pie
pie dough (use your favorite, enough for a double crust)
6 cups frozen dark cherries, defrosted
4 Tbsp cornstarch
1 1/4 cup sugar
zest and juice of 2 limes
1 Tbsp butter, cut into small pieces
milk
sanding sugar

Preheat oven to 425°. Line a deep pie dish with dough (1/8th inch thick) and crimp the edges. In a large bowl, combine cherries, cornstarch, sugar, and lime zest and juice. Pour cherry mixture into pie dish and dot with butter. Roll out second half of dough to 1/8th-inch thick and, using a small star-shaped cookie cutter, cut out as many stars as possible. Arrange dough shapes over the top of the pie, overlapping so they can bake together. Brush top with milk and dust with sanding sugar.

Place pie plate on a rimmed baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes, then reduce heat to 375° and bake for another hour, until the filling is set and bubbly. Use a pie crust shield or foil around the edges if the edges brown quickly. Let cool completely before serving.

Farm to Fork Dinner at Wilson Farm

Growing up in Lexington meant frequent trips to Wilson Farm for fresh veggies (and somehow, I'd always manage to get a honey stick too). No autumn was complete without a trip through their haunted house and a big, fat caramel apple with peanuts. Wilson Farm has been operating in Lexington since 1884 as a family-run farm, and they work 33 acres in Lexington (probably some of the most expensive farm land around, considering the price of houses in town) and 500 more acres in Litchfield, New Hampshire. So when I heard through Twitter that the farm would be hosting a farm-to-fork dinner in the fields, complete with over 50 items grown on the farm, I jumped at the chance to attend.

My friend Melody came with me, and we arrived to quite a crowd gathered next to the store. Turns out this was only about half the night's crowd - there were 100 people at the dinner! Farmer Jim Wilson walked us through the field, explaining their state-of-the-art greenhouse and their Integrated Pest Management (IPM) techniques in abbreviated form (every two weeks in the summer, Jim leads a much longer tour that is worth attending). Right smack in the middle of the field, three looooong tables were set up along the rows, and we headed for seats at the end of the table nestled in amongst the tomato plants. While the attendees were a good mix of ages, our table was skewed a little older - we just happened to take the seats across from a sweet and funny couple our age, though, so I didn't have to spend too much time talking about why I was taking pictures or what the purpose of my blog was. The tables were decorated with beautiful arrangements of not just flowers, but also radishes, beans, kale, basil, and dill.

Fresh bread was passed around (the farmstand has a pretty fantastic bakery), as were herb olive oil and a tremendous roasted eggplant dip (recipe here). There was also red and white wines, and carafes of water with sprigs of salad burnet, an unusual herb that tastes a bit like cucumber, a bit like melon. Chef Todd Heberlein introduced each course as it came out, but since we were at the end of our table, it was a bit hard to hear.

The first course, "Prosciutto and Melon," was brought out in shot glasses - always an interesting way to start a meal. The amuse bouche turned the typical salty-and-sweet combination of melon and proscuitto on its head - it was served as a chilled honeydew melon soup with crispy proscuitto bits on top. I'm not usually a chilled soup fan, but the saltiness of the bacon (as well as the crispy texture) added a lot to the dish.

As the second course was passed out, the chef joked that a lot of people thought it was risky of him to serve not one, but three types of beets to the crowd. He insisted that he would convert some people into beet fans with this dish, and he won over quite a few with his mixture of Chioggia beets tossed in creme fraiche on a bed of beet greens, served with purees of red and golden beets. Walking around the table to say hello, though, he did jokingly scold me for not finishing my plate - what can I say, I can only eat so many beets at one time, which is about a million times more beets than I would have eaten even a few years ago.

Course three featured a little patty of corn and chorizo pudding, as well as an heirloom tomato gazpacho salad and a grilled Athena melon salad. The pudding (recipe here), featuring sweet corn and spicy chorizo, was a great match for the lighter salads alongside it. The tomato salad was amazing, filled with more kinds of tomatoes than I could count, cucumbers, and peppers - it's easy to forget what a tomato really tastes like over the long winter, which is why late summer should be filled with big bowls of tomatoes just like this. Heavenly. The grilled Athena melon (similar to a cantaloupe) was served on a bed of salad greens tossed with a roasted tomatillo vinaigrette. I loved this dressing - light and tangy - and it paired beautifully with the supersweet melon. I'd love to make a dressing like this with all the tomatillos that are coming in in my own garden.

By the time the main course came out, everyone was pretty full, but of course we had to try it all. The protein was striped bass from Martha's Vineyard, served over an amazing crunchy vegetable slaw with Thai basil pesto. I wanted to eat more of that slaw, I just couldn't fit it in! There was ricotta and swiss chard stuffed pasta, topped with a ratatouille sauce, that was hearty without being heavy, and the ratatouille, which can often turn out mushy or even slimy, still had a bit of firm texture to it, and the flavors of each of the vegetables was pronounced. The sides were Beans, Beans, and More Beans (a crispy green and yellow bean salad, tossed with roasted tomatoes, feta, and olives) and Cranberry Bean and Corn Stew (sweet corn, creamy and perfectly cooked cranberry beans, a little tomato, and some kale and collard greens). Both of these sides would be perfect as a light lunch.

Of course, we were all really stuffed by then, but dessert was yet to come. It was the only course that Chef Heberlein didn't have a hand in, as the bakery department had made it. When the menu said "Stone Fruit Tart with Our Own Berries," I figured we each get a little slice of tart with a handful of berries - more than enough dessert after such a big meal. But no, the plate we were served could have been a meal on its own, with a delicate puff pastry topped with a variety of stone fruits (peaches, nectarines, plums), ginger whipped cream, deliciously ripe berries, sesame tuile cookies in big fat curls, and underneath it all, a whole almond macaroon. Four of us could have shared one plate and been happy - instead, I put the dessert shelf in my stomach* to good use, eating more than my fair share.

It was dark by the end of the meal, and we walked back through the fields, lit by small candles, full and happy after such a wonderful meal. This is the second time Wilson Farm has hosted a Farm to Fork dinner, and hopefully they will continue this tradition next summer. Keep an eye on their Happenings page for other great events, like their upcoming tomato festival.

*Melody and I had a teacher in elementary school that taught us about the dessert shelf. Think about it - even when you're full, you still have room for something sweet. It can only be because there is a shelf in your stomach that ONLY dessert can fit onto.

Strawberry Picking Time Travel at Ward's Berry Farm

As soon as the weather turned nice (ok, better) back at the beginning of May, I've been all about fresh fruits and veggies. I've been growing some of the best lettuce I've ever tasted and some insanely fast-growing radishes, along with a whole slew of other things that won't be ready for a while. To do this, I had to pull up all the strawberry plants in our yard.

I know, I can practically hear you screaming "WHYYYY?!?" already. These were strawberries we had planted I don't know how long ago, and how many ripened fruits have I ever eaten from them? Exactly zero. They only grew the tiniest of berries that seemed to take forever to ripen, at which point they would go from green to vibrant red overnight and some pesky animal would beat me to them in the morning. It began to be such a constant disappointment that I had no problem ripping them up to make room for things like eggplant and tomatoes, which actually produce things that the animals don't care about.

Anyway, all that garden shuffling has left me wanting. Strawberry season is quick and short around here (although this year, it seems like lots of crops were ready early thanks to our warm spring). My friends and I had planned on berry picking a week ago, but we were beat out by a rainstorm, and we had to postpone to last weekend. With absolutely no rain in the forecast, we piled into the car and headed south on 95.

Ward's Berry Farm is all of 30 seconds off the highway in Sharon, less than half an hour from Boston. Their prices are reasonable for fresh and local produce ($3 for a pint, or $6 for a larger handle basket, above). The strawberry patch is huge, and we each had a couple rows to ourselves, although we stuck close together so we could chat while we picked. Strawberry picking is harder than, say, raspberry picking because the plants are all so close to the ground, and at times I felt like I was playing Twister in an attempt to not faceplant into the berries.

One thing about strawberry picking that I kind of loved and that also freaked me out at the same time? There are a lot of berries on those plants, and they don't all get picked. When they start to rot, they turn into these powdery, dessicated, zombie versions of real berries, and they tend to explode if you pick one by accident. Yeah, what's the good part, you're asking. Because they were rotting in the sun, the sugar was fermenting, and occasionally I'd get a whiff of strawberry liqueur. Every time I got a hint of the scent, I was thrown back in time to a trip to Italy, where my friends and I stayed in a terribly crappy hostel in Sorrento and bought a bottle of liquore di fragola, a supersweet liqueur made from local strawberries (the berries were still in the bottle, and you know we ate them all). I had to fight to not yell out "Strongberry!", which is what we called the drink (and which we used to yell at each other often after that). I could have stood in that strawberry patch, smelling the breeze, all day.

Springtime Strawberry Shortcake

Strawberries are the first local fruit to roll out in the spring, and there is truly nothing like a strawberry right off the vine. I'm dying to go strawberry picking, but for the meantime, pints of berries from the farmers markets that are just starting to open are just as good. And the perfect showcase for perfect strawberries is strawberry shortcake.

The best part of these strawberry shortcakes, though, was the whipped cream. It was the first time I had made whipped cream since getting my KitchenAid Mixer, and it was the easiest process ever. In the past, whipped cream would take upwards of 15 minutes, although it always felt more like 30, listening to the beaters of the hand mixer whapping against the side of the bowl. That cream was always underwhipped until it was suddenly curdled, never hitting that magical "stiff peaks" stage that's always spoken of. But this whipped cream? Three minutes from start to finish, and the addition of vanilla made it utterly heavenly. I could (and did) just eat it with a spoon.

Strawberry Shortcakes

Cream Biscuits
2 cups flour
1 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups heavy cream

Preheat oven to 450°. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.

Place flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt together in a large bowl and stir to combine. Pour in cream and mix until just incorporated. Turn out onto a piece of wax paper. Knead dough lightly, folding it in on itself to create layers. Using wax paper will allow you to knead the dough without adding extra flour. Pat dough into a rectangle about an inch thick and cut into 8 equal pieces.

Arrange biscuits evenly on the baking sheet. Bake for about 15 minutes or until lightly browned. Rotate pan halfway through. Cool biscuits on a wire rack.

Vanilla Whipped Cream
2 cups heavy cream
2 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp Vanilla Bean Paste

Combine cream, sugar, and vanilla paste in a stand mixer. Mix together on medium-low for about a minute until frothy. Whip on high for 2-3 minutes, or until stiff peaks form. Do not overwhip or you'll get butter.

Strawberries
1 quart (about 1 1/2 pounds) fresh strawberries
1-2 Tbsp sugar

Wash strawberries and pat dry. Slice berries thinly. In a mixing bowl, sprinkle strawberries with 1 Tbsp sugar and stir. Add additional sugar if berries are tart. Refrigerate for at least an hour before use to allow a syrup to form.

Assembly
Split biscuits in half and place bottoms on dessert plates. Top with a big dollop of whipped cream. Divide strawberries between the biscuits. Place tops of biscuits on the strawberries, then add another big dollop of whipped cream.

Cranberry Orange Jam

A few weeks ago, I was wandering through one of the last farmers markets of the year and came across a huge bin of fresh cranberries. They were so beautiful - bright and plump - that I couldn't help but bring some home. Which is funny, because the only thing I could think to make with them was cranberry sauce. I'm pretty sure the only person who will eat cranberry sauce in my family is my father. So I started brainstorming (ie doing internet searches) for other ideas and came across a few recipes for cranberry orange jam, or more like cranberry marmalade. Since being diagnosed with canning fever this summer, I jumped at the chance to put a cranberry concoction into little glass jars. The recipe below is what I cobbled together, and I think it's pretty tasty (although I think it serves as a better accompaniment to savory dishes, like maybe alongside a roast pork, than on toast or something sweet).

How do you like to use fresh cranberries?


Cranberry Orange Jam
8 cups (about 2 pounds) fresh cranberries
3-4 small, thin-skinned oranges (like clementines or tangerines)
2 cups granulated sugar
1 cup white wine (I used a Riesling, because it was what I had on hand, and it added some sweetness)

Wash and pick over berries, removing any that are soft. Dice whole oranges, removing any seeds - since the rind doesn't decrease in size as it cooks, make sure you cut it to the size you want in the final product. Combine all ingredients in a large pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and continue cooking until cranberries pop open and mixture thickens, stirring to make sure it doesn't stick.

While jam cooks, fill the largest pot you have with water and place some sort of rack on the bottom (I use a lobster pot that comes with a fitted strainer, so I just use that strainer). You don't want the jars to touch the bottom of the pot. Bring to a boil. Place clean glass jars in the water and boil for at least 10 minutes to sterilize. Water should come to an inch or two above the tops of the jars. Prepare lids according to manufacturer's instructions.

Remove jars from water when the jam is done. Fill jars with jam, leaving 1/4 inch headroom on top. Wipe the rims of the jar so they're clean and place on the lids on the jars.

Place the jars back in the boiling water, put the cover on the pot, and process for 10 minutes (start timing when the water returns to a boil if it has become cooler). Carefully remove the jars from the pot and place on a kitchen towel to cool. You will hear the jars seal shut as they cool.

Friday I'm In Love... with Kozy Shack Pear Mangosteen Pudding

I was walking through the supermarket the other day and came to a screeching halt next to the pudding section. Kozy Shack's new Simply Well line has colorful packaging and, more importantly, flavors that make it stand out from the crowd on the shelf. The words "pear" and "mangosteen" jumped out at me - these are not things that usually describe pudding - and a package made its way into my basket in a split-second.

And after popping a cup open, it became clear to me that this pudding was more than pretty packaging. Both the pear and the mangosteen flavors are clear and distinct, and yet they work together in harmony to create one hell of a pudding. It's light and refreshing and yet filling. The texture in the package is a little thick (hence no picture), thanks to tapioca starch and added fiber, but the mouthfeel is just right.

I found my pear mangosteen pudding at my local Market Basket (which is quickly becoming a great place to shop for speciality items), but you could ask for it at any store that already carries Kozy Shack puddings.

Phyllo-Wrapped Brie with PAMA Drizzle

Happy Pomegranate Month! If you're seeing a lot of pomegranate recipes out there, it's because Pomegranate Month is in full swing (not to mention that pomegranates are just plain delicious).

PAMA Pomegranate Liqueur is celebrating Pomegranate Month with a recipe contest. The only requirement for entries? Using 3 tablespoons of PAMA. Thankfully, the sweet and tart liqueur pairs well with a lot of flavors.

My first entry, Phyllo-Wrapped Brie with PAMA Drizzle, is kind of a mishmash of ideas. I wanted to use phyllo dough because it always looks fancy, and it's pretty easy to use (even if a lot of people are scared of using it - just give it a shot!). I figured a version of individual brie en croute would be a great appetizer - I love the idea of brie en croute, but I don't like the idea of putting pastry on top of a cracker. This eliminates the need for crackers, making the entire thing hand-held. As for the PAMA sauce, I kept thinking of an amazing steak I had in Italy, covered in a balsamic vinegar reduction that tasted like rich chocolate. A thick sauce like that, but with more fruity flavor from the PAMA, seemed like a perfect pair to the pastry.

Apparently I hit this one out of the park. Our usually loud and boisterous group didn't make a sound when these finally hit the table. The one vegetarian, who ate these as her main coarse, was literally scraping the plate clean of every last drop of sauce. I'm so glad these worked out well, contest or no, and I have a feeling these will be on my holiday table in the next few months. If nothing else, the combination of PAMA and balsamic vinegar makes a sauce that would be killer on just about anything.


Phyllo-Wrapped Brie with PAMA Drizzle
1 lb. phyllo dough
10 oz. brie, cut into 10 long slices
2 sticks butter, melted
pomegranate seeds
1/2 cup PAMA Pomegranate Liqueur
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1/2 tsp salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Unroll phyllo dough and cover with a damp cloth to prevent from drying. Lay one sheet of phyllo dough on work surface and brush generously with melted butter. Lay a second sheet of phyllo dough on top of the first and brush with butter. Place one slice of brie lengthwise along the bottom edge of the dough and top with pomegranate seeds. Roll the brie in the dough two turns, fold in the sides to seal the ends, then continue rolling the brie. Trim the end to lie neatly beneath the pastry, and place seam-side down on a baking sheet. Repeat with remaining dough and brie. Brush completed pieces with butter.

Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until golden brown. While the pastries are baking, prepare the sauce by combining the PAMA Liqueur, balsamic vinegar, and salt together in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat and cook until thick and syrupy.

To serve, drizzle sauce over the pastries and sprinkle with pomegranate seeds.

*NOTE* If these are too big, you can make smaller ones, but use just one sheet of phyllo - two might overwhelm a smaller piece of cheese.

Using Up That Giant Bag of Apples

Last weekend, my friends and I finally got our acts together and headed out to do a little apple picking. We decided to forgo our usual spot, Parlee Farm in Tyngsboro, for a quieter orchard (read: fewer kids and, sadly, no goats in trees). We decided to check out two different spots in Harvard (the town, not the square) - Old Frog Pond Farm and Carlson Orchards.

Old Frog Pond is the only certified organic Pick-Your-Own orchard in the state. We stopped there first, primarily because they were still picking raspberries (on Columbus Day weekend!). They seemed hesitant to even sell us a box, saying they weren't sure if there was anything left on the bushes, but once we got down to the patch, we found plenty of berries (and ended up buying a few more boxes). Because the berries were so (overly) ripe, we had to use them right away - apple raspberry pie that night and some raspberry limoncello brewing away in my cabinet right now. Old Frog Pond also has a nice sculpture walk through the woods - some of the art is not exactly my cup of tea, but it was nice to wander through on a brisk day.

From there, we headed over to Carlson Orchards, also in Harvard. We grabbed our bags and headed into the orchards... and were instantly surprised at the size of the farm and the variety of apples. Most orchards are only picking three or four varieties at once, but Carlson had seven or so ripe for the picking. We tasted them all as we went, but my favorites were the McIntosh and the Macoun - I don't think I actually picked any of the other kinds. Carlson also makes their own ciders (regular and Honeycrisp), and you can get hot apple crisp with ice cream when you're done picking your apples (I tried a bit that was so good, I almost went back in to the store to buy my own - the sugar had all caramelized so it was gooey and amazingly delicious). I really enjoyed picking at Carlson - I think it might be my new favorite place for apple picking near Boston.

Of course, apple picking left me with a giant bag of apples to use. I mean, I really enjoy apples, but that's a lot of fruit to get through. So besides the apple-a-day since last weekend, I've been cooking with them wherever possible. Apple pie? Check. Apple crisp? Check. Apple butter? Check. Apple and squash gratin? Check. Caramel apples? Check!

When I was in the grocery store to pick up caramels to melt for caramel apples, I found a genius product that made the whole process wicked easy - Kraft Caramel Bits. For some reason, they're not on Kraft's website, but they're basically caramel perfect for melting or adding to cookie batters without the need for unwrapping - just open the bag and dump the contents out!

I also love the combination of sweet and salty, so I added pretzels and bittersweet chocolate to my mix. It helped cut the sweetness of the caramel and added texture. I didn't get too creative with this round of apples, but they were tasty enough that I might not deviate from the combination next time.

Chocolate Pretzel Caramel Apples
5 fresh medium apples
5 popsicle sticks
11 oz caramel pieces
16 oz bitterweet chocolate, chopped
2 handfulls of pretzels, broken into bitesize pieces

Line a pan with parchment paper and set aside. Push popsicle sticks into the apples at the stem and set aside.

In a small pot, melt caramels over medium-low heat, stirring frequently to prohibit burning. When all the caramel is melted, remove from heat. Dip apples into caramel, using a spoon to bring the caramel up over the sides. Set covered apples back on the parchment paper; freeze for 30 minutes to harden.

Add chopped chocolate to a microwave-safe bowl and microwave in 20-30 second blasts, stirring between each, until chocolate is melted (if you heat it all in one go, it will burn - take it from me). Mix in broken pretzel pieces, then dip caramel-coated apples into chocolate, using a spoon to bring the chocolate up over the sides. Return apples to the parchment paper and return to freezer to harden. Remove apples within 30 minutes and store at room temperature.

To serve, cut the apple into nine pieces around the core (like a tic-tac-toe board). This ensures that each bite is a perfect combination of fruit, caramel, and chocolate.

Can-O-Rama Challenge - Raspberry Peach Jam

Late in August, Linsey from Cake and Commerce helped put together Boston's Can-o-rama Cantacular, a day filled with learning about all types of canning and general "putting up" of food. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who left eager to put food in jars.

As part of the event, Linsey has started a monthy (or so) canning challenge on her blog. The first challenge was "summer in a bottle," since we were on the tail end of summer produce. I scoped out the farmer's market and decided on white peaches and raspberries for my jam. When I said I didn't need the paper pints for the raspberries, the woman behind me was concerned that they'd all get crushed on the way home. "I'm just going to mush them up to make jam," I told her, and she gave me a look like I was crazy. Crazy like a fox, perhaps...

I have about 8 half-pint and 4 quarter-pint jars of this to keep me in a summery frame of mind throughout the winter. One jar didn't seal correctly in the waterbath, so I stuck it in the fridge. When the urge for more peanut butter cookies struck, I baked my cookies, putting thumbprints in the middle instead of using a fork to push them down, pulled out my jam, and made delicious peanut butter and jelly bites. Yum!

Summery Raspberry Peach Jam
4 cups fresh raspberries
6 cups fresh peaches, chopped
5 cups sugar
1/4 cup bottled lemon juice
pinch of salt

Combine ingredients in a heavy-bottomed pot and mash fruits up. Let stand 30 minutes or so. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally, and cook for about 40 minutes. As the jam thickens, check the temperature with a candy thermometer - you're aiming for 220°. I'm usually a little impatient with projects like this, so I go with a slightly softer jam (218° or so).

While jam cooks, fill the largest pot you have with water and place some sort of rack on the bottom (I use a lobster pot that comes with a fitted strainer, so I just use that strainer). You don't want the jars to touch the bottom of the pot. Bring to a boil. Place clean glass jars in the water and boil for at least 10 minutes to sterilize. Water should come to an inch or two above the tops of the jars. Prepare lids according to manufacturer's instructions.

Remove jars from water when the jam is done. Fill jars with jam, leaving 1/4 inch headroom on top. Wipe the rims of the jar so they're clean and place on the lids on the jars.

Place the jars back in the boiling water, put the cover on the pot, and process for 10 minutes (start timing when the water returns to a boil if it has become cooler). Carefully remove the jars from the pot and place on a kitchen towel to cool. You will hear the jars seal shut as they cool.

Friday I'm in Love... with KIND Bars

I've known about KIND Bars for a while now, but I've only recently fallen in love. I bought them years ago, but in an effort to cut out calories from nuts, I stopped buying them. (Now that I understand the nutrition in nuts, though, I try to eat a little bit every day.) I was given a few samples last week at the Natural Products Expo in Boston, and from the first bite, I was in love.

KIND Bars are filled with fruits and nuts, unlike their granola bar counterparts which don't always have a lot of substance. The best part? They actually taste like what they're named. The Mango Macadamia (above) tastes like mango and macadamia nuts (with a little coconut thrown in), the Almond & Apricot tastes like almonds and apricot, and the snozzberries taste like snozzberries! (Wait, no...) The Fruit & Nut Delight is probably my favorite, filled with peanuts, almonds, Brazil nuts, walnuts, raisins, apricots, dates, and honey. And they're satisfying, thanks to the nuts and some added fiber.

KIND Bars are available at tons of locations, like Trader Joe's, Whole Foods, Shaw's, and Market Basket. They are also the gluten-free offering at Starbucks stores (now that Starbucks has done away with their awesome GF Valencia Orange cakes). Or, if you really love them, you can order them online through the KIND Advantage program.

Blackberry Scones

There's something so very greedy about berry picking, and it's not just the inherent one-for-now, one-for-later mentality as you pull them off the branch.

My friend Melody invited me by her house to pick blackberries from the wild bushes nearby. After being thwarted by some rain, I finally got my chance - sunny, gorgeous weather in the low 70s. I grabbed a big metal bowl and started exploring her yard. I found the two major areas (back yard = huge bushes with giant berries, front yard = medium bushes with much smaller berries like the ones above) and got to work.

And it was as I was picking that I realized how greedy I was becoming. I worked the whole area, picking only what I thought was ripe and wasn't to hard to reach within the brambles. But as I walked back to my car along the bushes, I realized how much more fruit was on there. Had I missed all these ripe berries the first time, or had they magically ripened in the sun in the last few minutes?

All in all, I probably went over each bush four times, collecting more and more fruit every time. And yet I continued to become greedy. At every pass, I would pick berries that maybe weren't quite dark enough and reach that much further into the thorns, scraping up my arm but coming back with a handful of sweetness. I found myself concocting plans for my next visit, including bringing leather gardening gloves and maybe some clippers to cut off unruly branches. And all for berries in someone else's yard!

Back home, I sorted the berries by size: the smaller ones were perfect for baking, while the larger ones were delicious as-is. I turned to my copy of The America's Test Kitchen Family Baking Book, which is my absolute favorite baking book, and found a great recipe for fresh berry scones. I was a little turned off when I was instructed the grate the butter - it was like herding cats (which I coincidentally also did this weekend...) - but the results were worth it. Oh, and I adapted the recipe slightly because I can't ever manage to read directions correctly...

Blackberry Scones (adapted from The America's Test Kitchen Family Baking Book)

1 1/4 sticks unsalted butter, frozen, plus extra for melting (about 2 Tbsp)
1 1/2 cups fresh berries
2 cups flour
3/4 cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp freshly grated lemon zest (about 1/2 a large lemon)
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup sour cream

On the large holes of a box grater, grate the butter into a small bowl. Once grated, place butter back into the freezer. Place berries in a bowl and set in the freezer - they do not need to freeze, just get sufficiently chilled.

Preheat oven to 425 ° and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, lemon zest, salt, and baking soda. Add in the grated butter and lightly toss until the butter is evenly coated. In a small bowl, whisk together the milk and sour cream, then add to the flour mixture. Fold in with a spatula until just combined.

Turn out dough onto a well (and I mean well) floured board. Lightly knead the dough until it just pulls together, adding more flour if the dough is too sticky. Pat the dough into a 12-inch square, then fold the top third and bottom third of the dough over the middle (like folding a letter). Then fold up the sides of the dough over the middle to form a square. Place dough on a floured plate, then place in the freezer for about 5 minutes so the butter doesn't soften too much.

Place the dough back on the floured board, and roll out to a 12-inch square. Arrange berries on top of the dough and lightly press them in. Roll the dough up into a tight log, pinching the ends and seam shut. Flatten the log into a 12x4-inch rectangle. Cut the dough lengthwise into 4 even rectangles, then cut each rectangle diagonally to form 2 triangles (8 total).

Place scones on baking sheet, brush with melted butter, and sprinkle with sugar. Bake for 20 minutes, or until the tops of the scones are golden brown. Turn the sheet once during baking. After baking, transfer to a wire rack to cool.

Jasmine Iced Tea Sangria

A few weeks ago, I had the chance to attend a class on iced teas and tea sangrias at the Park Plaza. The Park Plaza is one of the many places in Boston to treat yourself to afternoon tea, but it is the only place with a tea sommelier, Cynthia Gold, who will walk you through the tea choices and find the right blend for you. She also offers Tea 101 classes, complementary looks into brewing and enjoying teas.

When I first signed up for this class, I thought the focus was going to be primarily iced teas. But we focused rather intently (at least for the first half of the class) on sangrias featuring iced teas. I didn’t think I was going to be a big fan – at least, until I actually tasted it. From the first sip, I couldn’t help but think that this would be a light and refreshing summer drink, and I knew I would be mixing up a batch soon. And although we were given some recipes to follow, the class was really more about learning the guidelines of how to brew a good tea and how to match flavors to make a tasty sangria.

In general, white and green teas pair better with white wines, while black tea pairs better with red wines. Keep the wines light – we used Rieslings in-class, and since Rieslings are my favorite, I was quite happy. Lighter fruits, like nectarines and apples, also work well with white wines, while berries are a little better suited to reds (although I added berries to my white and loved the flavor). And steep the fruit in the brandy overnight to make them thoroughly boozy.

Jasmine Iced Tea Sangria

Summer fruits, sliced thin (I used one white nectarine, one plum, and handful of blueberries, and a few pitted cherries, but try whatever you have on hand)
Brandy
2 Tbsp loose jasmine tea (I used this lovely tea from Tealuxe) or 6 tea bags
3 ½ cups hot water (not boiling, about 175 °)
1 bottle Riesling, chilled
Simple syrup (I had rhubarb syrup on hand, which added another nice layer of fruitiness)

Place the fruit in a jar or a bowl and cover with brandy. Give the fruit a good stir, then cover and let sit overnight.

In a heat-proof pitcher or measuring cup, add hot water to the tea and let steep for 3 minutes. Too hot and the tea will taste dull; too long and the tea will taste bitter. Strain leaves from the liquid, the chill tea until cold.

In a large pitcher, combine fruit (drain off brandy, although you may want to add a tablespoon or two to the finished product), tea, and wine. Add simple syrup to taste, and stir.

Blogger Dinner at Tavolo, Dorchester

High ceilings, large windows letting in plenty of light, long red curtains, cool swirly globe lamps, and one of the coolest wall murals I've seen in a long time all set the stage for a fantastic meal at Tavolo in Dorchester. The restaurant, which mostly has a name as a pizza place, hosted a dinner for ten bloggers last night, and they really took the chance to showcase some of their dishes that stray away from pizza and pasta.

I took a seat facing the wall, and usually I wouldn't spend so much time avoiding my dining companions, but the wall murals by local artist Kiki Ikura were just tremendous - it looked like chalk on a blackboard, but was smudgeless, and was whimsical and lighthearted without being silly or childish. She painted two walls like this, using a cherry picker to get all the way up to the ceiling, and they murals give a lot of life to the room and the restaurant.

We started off with a light salad of watermelon, feta, lemon, olive oil, mint, and basil. Watermelon and feta are really an amazing combination, and this version of the dish was a perfect balance of sweet and salty and tart. I even sopped up the leftover juices with a slice of bread.

Next was gnocchi alla Gricia, little puffs of potato with pancetta, pecorino, and local fava beans. I guess I've had too many bad renditions of gnocchi - hard, dense, gummy, or just gross - but these were fantastic. They were light and fluffy, didn't stick to my teeth, and soaked up just enough of the sauce to take on the flavors without becoming too sticky. The pancetta and pecorino added salt and umami, and the fava beans were a nice surprise of bright, fresh flavor. I would have been content to just eat a big bowl of this and call it a night...

We also enjoyed a taste of the house's meatballs, which were amazing. They were homey and evenly spiced, and the tomato sauce they came in was something that the chef had obviously spent a long time cooking. On the regular menu, the meatballs feature prominently - they can be added to many of the pasta dishes, or can be front-and-center in a panini. Definitely a dish to take advantage of.

After the gnocchi and meatballs, we moved on to a swordfish involtini. This was one of the many things that were on our menu that I would never order, but yet greatly enjoyed the way it was cooked at Tavolo. I'm just not a fan of swordfish - but after eating this, I think it may be because it is usually served in thick steaks without much seasoning, which brings out the fishy flavor to me. The involtini was a thin slice of fish, wrapped around a mash of fontina, garlic, and parsley. It was so tasty, in fact, that I cleaned the plate. (Note for my parents, who are undoubtedly going to read this and think swordfish is now my favorite fish: Unless you wrap it around cheese and garlic, I don't want it.)

Next up was a roast duck breast, served over faro and fresh string beans, with a little bit of red currant jam. Duck is another thing I don't like, but this rendition was nicely cooked and had a delightful crispy skin. The beans were perfectly cooked - still crispy, but not raw, and with enough salt to really bring out their flavor.

By then, we were all stuffed, but still felt the need for something sweet to wrap up the meal. We were served a blueberry "Genetti" cake - toasted blueberry pound caked with a touch of whipped cream and a light blueberry sauce. (For those of you keeping track at home, blueberries are another food I can't stand, but were very actually quite tasty in this form.) I absolutely loved that the cake was toasted - the edges were crisp and almost caramelized, which took something simple like pound cake to a whole different level.

Looking more closely at my menu and the restaurant's regular menu, I see that almost all of what we ate is not on the regular menu. That being said, each and every bite was delicious, and I'm sure the regular offerings are just as good. Tavolo is really trying to get away from their image as "just" a pizza place, and if the dishes I tried were any indication, they are definitely doing a great job of it.

Rhubarb Cosmos

With plans for a Girls Night In last Friday, hosted by someone who has been talking for weeks about how much she loves rhubarb, my mind starting turning. A quick search for rhubarb in Tastespotting won me this recipe for rhubarb cosmopolitans, which I tweaked once I started mixing. These drinks had an unusual and slightly different taste - I don't think I could have placed the flavor as rhubarb if I hadn't made the syrup myself, but everyone enjoyed the taste.

The syrup is easy to make and even easier to drink. Don't throw out the strained rhubarb - eat it with a spoon, or on toast, or over ice cream...

Rhubarb Syrup
1 lb (about 4 big stalks) rhubarb, chopped
2 cups sugar
3 cups water

Combine rhubarb, sugar, and water in a medium pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and let cook for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. The syrup will become bright pink and the rhubarb will break down. Strain through a fine strainer and let cool before using.

Rhubarb Cosmopolitan
2 ounces rhubarb syrup
2 ounces vodka
1 lime wedge
splash of lemon-lime soda

Combine syrup and vodka in a shaker with ice and shake until cold. Strain into a martini glass, squeeze in the lime wedge, and top with a splash of lemon-lime soda.

Rosewater Limeade

In an effort to stave off scurvy due to my end-of-semester diet of potato chips and coffee (and more coffee), I bought a bunch of limes at the market. All along, I was planning on making some limeade - a nice cool, refreshing drink to have in the fridge during this crazy hot-then-cold weather we've been having (95° Tuesday? 60° Wednesday? 75° Friday? My body is ten types of confused.). But after I mixed it together, I found it a little lacking.

Luckily, my trusty bottle of rosewater was standing nearby, and I added a little at a time until it tasted just right. I really like the pairing of lime and rose - sweet and tart, fruity and floral.

Rosewater Limeade
3/4 cup lime juice (about 4 large limes)
1/4 cup sugar
1 1/2 tsp rosewater
3 cups water

Mix ingredients together in a pitcher until sugar is dissolved. Serve over ice.

Meyer Lemon Curd

Ah, the continuing story of my bag of Meyer lemons from San Francisco...

After candying slices of lemon and blood orange, I was still left with a heap of lemons to use. After much internet searching (through Tastespotting and Google), I cobbled together a lemon curd recipe that seemed like an excellent and economical use of my treasure.

I've been intimidated by making curd for a while, but this showed me how simple the process can be. I've had the jar of curd sitting in my fridge for a week or so now, so it's a great thing to make ahead and just keep around for when you feel the need for a taste of sunshine. It would be perfect in a pie (I know, I missed pi day...), but I prefer it spread on some cream biscuits, topped with some of those blood orange slices... In fact, now I want to try this with blood oranges, since I have a bunch around...

Meyer Lemon Curd
3 or 4 Meyer lemons, zested and juiced (you want enough for 3/4 cup of juice)
3/4 cup sugar
3 eggs
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) butter, cut into small chunks

In a double boiler or a medium pot, bring some water to a simmer. In the the top of the double boiler or in a stainless steel bowl, combine lemon juice, sugar, and eggs and whisk together. Place over simmering water (making sure the bottom of the bowl doesn't touch the water) and add butter. Continue whisking for about 5 minutes, or until the curd thickens (it will happen suddenly, and you'll know from feeling the whisk move through the curd that it's done). Make sure the water continues to simmer and not boil, and that you keep whisking, or the eggs will cook too fast.

Once the curd is formed, push it through a fine mesh strainer to get out any bits of cooked egg. Add in lemon zest and mix to incorporate. Store in a sealed jar in the fridge and use at will.

Candied Citrus Slices

As I mentioned, on my trip to San Francisco I was lucky enough to get to wander through the Saturday morning farmers market at the Ferry Building. I bought myself plenty of souvenirs, including raw olives (I'll post about them once the brining process is done) and a huge bag of Meyer lemons.

Of course, when I got home, that left me with a giant bag of lemons and not many ideas of what to do with them. I've had worse problems before ;) With a little internet scouring and a snow day, I managed to make my way through most of the lemons.

I've done candied citrus peel before. It's tasty and makes a great gift. But I wanted to try something a little different this time, so I opted to try candying whole slices of fruit (I also had a few blood oranges kicking around, so I candied them as well). The key here is to get super-thin slices, as thin as you can make them while still keeping the slices whole. It's also important to keep an eye out for seeds - take them out as soon as you see them, as they can make slicing a little more difficult.

Note: If you're using different types of citrus, candy the lighter colored ones first. Here, I cooked the lemons first, then the blood oranges. The oranges turned the syrup a beautiful deep ruby color (which I saved for drink mixing), but it would have stained the lemons if I had reversed their cooking order.

These are delicious for snacking, but they also make gorgeous garnishes on desserts and drinks. I'm keeping them wrapped in parchment paper in the fridge, ready for use.


Candied Citrus Slices
3 lemons (or Meyer lemons)
3 small oranges (or blood oranges)
3 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups water

Cut citrus into very thin slices, discarding the ends that are all pulpy white. Set aside.

In a large frying pan, combine sugar and water over medium high heat. (If your pan is too small, use 2 cups sugar and 1 cup water). Once sugar has dissolved, bring to a boil for about one minute. Reduce heat to medium low, or a gentle simmer, and add lemon slices in a single layer. Cook for 30-40 minutes, or until the rinds begin to turn translucent. Remove slices from the pan with a slotted spoon and arrange on parchment paper to cool. Repeat process with orange slices.

Once citrus has cooled, roll each slice lightly in sugar and put back on the parchment to dry for a little while. Store wrapped in parchment paper in an airtight container.

Quince Jam for my Mother

When I was growing up, my family would receive a package from my father's uncle in California every Christmas. Inside would be a few Ball jars filled with quince jam, homemade from the quince tree in his yard. I never had quince in any other form or from any other source, so I thought it was some exotic treasure from all the way across the country.

So imagine my surprise when I found local quince at Westward Orchards while doing some food exploration back in November with Lily Von Schtoop. I scooped some up, having no idea how to cook them. Luckily, I found this simple quince jam recipe from Simply Recipes and, with a few small changes, was able to produce about 3 half-pint jars worth of delicious quince jam, two of which went into my mother's Christmas stocking (the third is sitting in my own fridge - can't give away all the goods!).

Quick Quince Jam
3 cups water
2 quince, rinsed and grated (discard hard core and seeds, but leave the skin on)
3 Tbsp lemon juice
2 tsp lemon zest
2 cups sugar
2 tsp vanilla paste

In a medium pot over high heat, bring water to a boil. Add quince, lemon juice, and lemon zest, and then reduce heat and simmer until quince is soft (about 10 minutes). Stir in the sugar and vanilla and bring back to a boil. Once all the sugar has dissolved, reduce heat to medium-high and cook, stirring occasionally, until the mixture reaches jam-like consistency (about 40-50 minutes).

Place 3 clean and dry half-pint canning jars (without lids) in the oven at 200° for 10 minutes to sterilize. Carefully ladle jam into jars (I found that a funnel was very helpful in avoiding getting jam all over the edges). Submerge the tops of the jars in water in a large pot, and bring water to a boil. Carefully remove tops from the pot, dry, and seal jars.