Remember how I loved my Momofuku Milk Bar experience so much?

The Momofuku Compost Cookie

I finally got around to trying my hand at recreating the Compost Cookie experience.
Verdict:  failure.  But, not because my cookies were icky.  They just did not taste like the original.  But given that I have a small apartment oven, made up my own recipe and am not a pastry chef of great provenance, I done just fine.

I wanted to keep my first attempt simple.  No crumbs or grounds.  (I also know too many non-coffee drinkers.)  Butterscotch chips can be hard to come by, so I added peanuts.  Next time, I would add more of everything.  I had about two cups of add-ins, but I easily could have increased that to three.  Another “aw, shucks” moment came when I bit down on decidedly uncrisp potato chips and pretzels.  I have no clue how the ones in the original stay so crispy!

In any case, what follows is one of my favourite drop cookie batters—note the lack of white sugar.  To ensure I always get chewy cookies, I underbake by just under a minute.  Freezing is fine.  I actually love cookies just out of the freezer.  After a defrost of about ten minutes, I am in cold dough heaven…
(Remnants of my childhood eating English Bay batter out of the fridge.)

My Compost Cookie

2/3 cup melted butter
2 cups lightly packed brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tablespoons hot water
2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2-3 cups add-ins (such as chocolate, nuts, pretzels, potato chips)

Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees.
In a large bowl, beat melted butter, brown sugar, eggs and hot water until smooth.
In another bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Stir into butter mixture until blended.
Stir in add-ins. Drop onto ungreased/parchment cookie sheet.
Bake 8 to 10 minutes. Let cool 1 minute, then move to wire rack.

It took me almost two months to turn my oven on.

After the upheaval of a move, a new city, and a new job, I’ve found little energy to do much beyond cereal and toasted bagels for myself at home. For a few weeks I’ve thought about turning that little dial and crossing fingers for proper calibration. In preparation, I have slowly been building up my kitchen arsenal.
Perhaps the death knell of the weekend finally roused me. Because it was a Sunday night of all times that I decided to take the plunge and bake. Cookies.

Quick to drum up and certainly not complicated-how come cookie recipes are never listed under “One Dish Dinners”?-these peanut butter and chocolate chip gems have all the cookie attributes I prefer: soft, not too sweet, and guaranteed to please workmates the next day when they’re left in the office kitchen.
That is, it’s one thing if I like my own cookies, but if others do as well, I’m a very happy girl. I’m sure I have said that before.

Did I mention that they are also topped with fleur de sel?

You’re not something these days if you haven’t been topped with fleur de sel.

First we welcomed fat back into our lives, then salt. Thank god.

Whenever I think of food trends, I think of that line in When Harry Met Sally when Jess says that he wrote about how pesto is the quiche of the 80s. Is fleur de sel the quiche of 2008 or 2009? Truffle oil had to be the year before that, no?

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies with Fleur de Sel

The recipe is from Whole Foods.
This was the second time that I’ve made them and I made one tweak: milk chocolate chips instead of dark.
I also think it’s important to use a natural peanut butter (simply peanuts and salt, such as the Adam’s brand). I always have chunky on hand.

Fresh from a New York holiday of gastronomical delights, I find myself in food heaven withdrawal. After a week of the best of everything, where striking two items off of  “Anthony’s Bourdains Top Thirteen Things to Eat Before You Die” in a matter of one afternoon, between bagel and lox at Russ and Daughter’s and a pastrami sandwich at Katz’s Deli was a breeze, it’s not easy coming home. With some remnants of culinary NYC delights that happily fit in a suitcase such as Jacques Torres hot chocolate, and the object of my chocolate obsession, Michael Recchiuti delivered to our NYC hotel from San Francisco, the transition was made easier. ( I couldn’t resist taking advantage of the US only shipping opportunity to enjoy what I believe to be the BEST chocolate in the world. I do not make this statement lightly. Between the rose caramel, fleur de sel caramel, varietals, fruit jellies, and the many other offerings in the burgundy box, I am so far ruined for all other chocolate. Period.)

Now don’t get me wrong, here in Edmonton we have some delightful culinary spots that I am fiercely loyal to (Tree Stone Bakery, Cafe Leva, Culina, Viphalay, The Red Ox Inn, Acajutla to name a few), but we certainly have had some gaping holes and can’t expect to find the same variety that a populated city like New York can offer (like a counter service shop that has dedicated itself to turning out perfect porchetta sandwiches, cleverly called Porchetta). That is why I could not be more delighted to have intersected with friends on the same mission for sweets, and to have enjoyed a chilly October Saturday afternoon right here at home in the newly opened Duchess Bake Shop on 124th Street in Edmonton.

After treats at NYC’s Balthazar Bakery and the post-Paris constant craving for Pierre Hermé macarons, I am in a constant state of lusting after proper French sugar delights, and I am rejoicing in the fact that they have finally arrived in grand form in Edmonton. Duchess Bake Shop is a simple and elegantly decorated space with high gilded ceilings, a shabby chic chandelier, clean white lines,  and a well appointed pastry case that highlights their beautifully executed creme tarts, croissants (almond croissants and pain au chocolat which they were sadly sold out of….I will be back to sample the almond paste filled double baked almond croissants with a secret wish that they will be as delicious as their counterparts at Thomas Haas in Vancouver), duchess signature petit gateaus, madeleines, florentines, and of course, macarons.

With anticipatory glee, we ordered a plate of macarons in all four of the remaining flavours of the day: chocolate, strawberry, pistachio, and lemon. With word that they had sold out of the lavender and salted caramel, and with a rose flavour in the works, I knew I would be back soon for more. For those who have not had the pleasure of enjoying a macaron before, do not confuse these with the sugary coconut and chocolate bonbon that we call a macaroon here in North America. Wikipedia describes the macaron as “dating back to the 18th century, macarons are a traditional French pastry, made of egg whites, almond powder, icing sugar,  and sugar. This sweet pastry came out of the French courts’ baker’s oven as round meringue-like domes with a flat base. Macarons are sandwich-like pastries made with two thin cookies and a cream or ganache between the cookies.”

The crisp, chewy, soft goodness of these well executed macarons, combined with the excellent ganache fillings that are not too sweet, and are naturally flavoured, was just the post-holiday medicine this girl needed. Add to that excellent cafe au laits and a nice selection of black teas, and Duchess Bake Shop gets two sugar coated thumbs up. Exquisite French Pastry Shop? Check. Now if only someone would open a good Jewish deli……

Bacon. Salty, sweet, crisp, chewy, fatty goodness. For breakfast next to eggs, for lunch nestled between toast, lettuce, and tomatoes, for dinner a la carbonara, and for dessert?

With comedy odes to the cured confection and a smattering of hot young chefs rethinking the salty ingredient, bacon is back on the menu as a decadent treat to finish the meal. Portland’s Voodoo Donut is turning out the maple glazed bacon donut. LA’s Animal Restaurant , which was our LA dining highlight this summer, has found a hit in its Bacon Chocolate Crunch Bar with Salt and Pepper Anglaise. And closer to home, Edmonton’s Kerstin’s Chocolates boldly offered chocolate covered bacon for those salt loving Dads for Father’s Day.

Inspired by pork, salt, chocolate, and those that have gone before, I embarked upon the Bacon Chocolate Chip Cookie project. With a recipe in hand that had only too many disclaimers about adjusting this and that to avoid dryness, I decided that I would adapt my own perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe. It goes a little something like this….

Bacon Chocolate Chip Cookies with Maple Cinnamon Glaze

1 cup butter, softened

3/4 cup sugar

3/4 cup brown sugar

2 eggs

2 tsp vanilla

2-1/4 cups all purpose flour

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

2 cups of cooked bacon bits (Good quality bacon is key. A quick cheat: use the fresh cooked bacon bits from Sunterra Market)

1 cup dark chocolate chips

1/2 cup white chocolate chips

5 strips of cooked bacon, cooled and cut into one inch strips (to top the cookies)

For the glaze:

1 cup powdered sugar

2 tsp maple extract

1 tsp vanilla

1/4 tsp cinnamon

1 tbsp water

Heat oven to 375 degrees.

Combine flour, baking soda, and salt, and set aside. In a large bowl, cream butter, sugars, eggs, and vanilla, until light and fluffy. Gradually stir flour mixture into creamed mixture.

Add both chocolate chips and cooked bacon bits. Mix to incorporate.

Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Using a cookie scoop (my favorite cookie baking tool next to parchment paper) or your hands, make approximately one inch balls.

Bake for a total of 9-10 minutes. I recommend swapping the cookie sheets racks half way through baking to ensure even baking of both.

While the cookies bake, mix the Maple Cinnamon Glaze by combining the powdered sugar, maple extract, vanilla, and cinnamon, and mix together until smooth and creamy.

Once baked, move cookies to a cooling rack, add a small amount of glaze, and top with the reserved squares of crisp bacon.

Soft, chewy, sweet, salty, indulgent cookie perfection. Warm from the oven, they were so good that I forgot to share.

Having a name that rhymes with banana meant I had to decide early on if I was going to be its friend or faux.

I chose friend.

As the start of my day, sliced over ice cream, or mashed into muffins, few fruits rival the toothsome give of a banana’s starchy-sweet flesh for me.

And for that reason, it makes an excellent ingredient for a pie—especially, ahem, a Cream pie.  Nestled between layers of crust and cream, banana slices retain their shape yet can be easily cut with a knife.  Cream pies also tend to be a favourite of mine because they require little, if any, baking.  I ate many cream pies growing up that were nothing more than instant vanilla pudding poured into a store-bought crust.  Slice some bananas and reach for the Reddi-Whip, and you’ve got your classic no-bake banana cream pie.  I’ve not let that kind of ease go completely, but with the task of bringing dessert to a friend’s and wanting that dessert to be a banana cream pie, I looked for something slightly more arduous.

Knowing that my hosts were chocolate fans, I narrowed my search to finding a chocolate-banana cream pie.  The one I found was outstanding.

Many no-bake pies are made with crumb or pastry crusts that have been quickly baked and then cooled before the cream filling is added.  This was truly no-bake in that it was simply melted butter and chocolate added to chocolate crumbs and then cooled until firm.  The chocolate became the magic binder that only added to the decadence of the pie.  Layers of banana and a vanilla pastry cream are to be expected, but atop a layer of chocolate ganache?  Sinful.  For nostalgia’s sake, I bought a can of “Real Whipped Cream” to accompany the topping of sliced bananas.

While perhaps sacrilege to some, for those of us in the room that were slightly intoxicated and singing 80s rock tunes with PVR karaoke, the canned cream was more than fine.  I provided backing to Livin’ on a Prayer while slicing the pie and then joined the silence during Paradise City as we all became enthralled with my pie’s creamy goodness.  So much so we threw caution to the wind, went for seconds (which finished off the pie), and declared Love in an Elevator one of the greatest songs of all time.

While the light of day tends to change your opinion on some things… there is still no question for me that this pie is top notch.

Black-Bottom Banana Cream Pie

The recipe came from Bon Appétit.  A vanilla pastry cream recipe is provided, however I made the one I learned in my recent baking course.  It’s so good you will want to make extra just to eat out of a bowl with a spoon.

Next time around, I likely will put all the ganache on the bottom instead of marbling it.  I made the pie one day ahead of time.

Vanilla Pastry Cream

50 g sugar

20 g unsalted butter

300 g whole milk

60 g whipping cream

30 g cornstarch

1 whole egg

1 g salt

5 g vanilla

Combine butter, cream, milk, and sugar in a saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat.

In another bowl, whisk cornstarch, egg, and salt so that all the cornstarch dissolves.

Slowly whisk (to temper) the boiling cream mixture into the cornstarch mixture.

Return to the heat, bring to a boil again and cook for 1 minute.

Remove from heat and stir in vanilla.

Pastry cream needs to be cooled before using.  To prevent a skin, sprinkle sugar on the top and then tightly cover with plastic wrap.

This makes enough for one pie.

It’s clear that I like to make cookies.  It’s clear that I like to make cookies for others.  But, when it comes to cookie recipes, I’m rarely surprised.  A cookie is a cookie is a cookie.  Butter, sugar, flour, salt, eggs.

I have a number of recipes that I gravitate toward, but only one go-to recipe.  What makes it special for me is that it contains no white sugar and the butter must be melted.  The warm dough has always yielded soft, slightly doughy cookies.  I don’t like cookies any other way, really.  I’ll make them many other ways, but as I rarely cook for my pleasure, that’s not always important.

In a tradesies situation I created (Fairmount bagels for my baking) I went looking for something to take me out of my baking box.  Dorie Greenspan is someone who I’ve been reading for a long while now without trying any of her recipes.  With her recent Chocolate Chunker post, my mind was sufficiently intrigued.  Easy recipe.  Salted peanuts.  The word “gooey.”

I don’t have much to say except that I think they are the best cookies I’ve ever made.

I forgot the raisins.

I added cinnamon.

I sprinkled fleur de sel on the tops after baking.

I made monster cookies, easily 2 tablespoons of dough each.

Gooey.  Chocolatey.  Salty.

Warm dough.

Finger-lickin’ dough.

Make them.

Now.

Pudding, custard, flan—variations on a theme I love:  creamy.  I’m happy set in front of a bowl that contains any variation of these variations.  A plastic cup of the Bill Cosby J-E-L-L-O incarnation has even been known to float my boat.  My favourites though have to be the rich eggy recipes that are little more than cream, sugar, and egg yolks; the ones that give it up to the Old World by being baked in a bain marie.

Like any pumpkin dessert, I find it hard to resist a crème brulee when confronted with one.  The pleasure of cracking the sugar crust is legendary, but my enjoyment tends to end at that.  Shards of sugar always end up in my back molars or pushed up against my front teeth, my wayward tongue more of a hindrance than a help when trying to pry the melting shards free.  Crème caramel is an obvious solution, but that damn caramel can be so tricky and I can be easily turned off by wobbly cream.

Looking for a dinner party recipe that could be adjusted for three, I made what essentially is a sugarless crème brulee.  Pots de crème.  Chocolate, yes, but that’s just a formality of flavour. 

Eggs + sugar + cream.  All there.

And what else?

Whipped cream.

I simply cut this Epicurious recipe in half.  Didn’t do the espresso as I’m not big on mocha.  Added a lightly sweetened, lightly vanilla’d whipped cream.

I could tell you that you need to use a dark chocolate with x% of cocoa solids from such and such a brand, but why stress?  Sometimes you’re in the bulk foods aisle and the easiest thing to grab is dark chocolate wafers or chips.  Of course a better chocolate will yield something better.  Do so if you like.  But, unless you’re baking for Pierre Hermé, I’m sure your guests or friends or lover (or yourself) won’t be offended if you use the chips.

Although it *would* be nice if at the end of a rainbow there was a pot of gold, I’d be just as happy finding a pot de crème.