Image courtesy of southbrooklynpost.com

The internet is a great source for all things foodie, and we’re constantly bookmarking, starring, and emailing intriguing recipes, food porn, and inspiration. Here’s a selection of clippings we think are worth checking out.

Salty honey pie. You had me at salt.

More salty-sweet goodness: chocolate chip bars with a pretzel crust.

When I think of wild rice, I think of casseroles with mushy broccoli that seemed to be on everyone’s table years ago. Bad broccoli memories aside, this casserole brings on waves of nostalgia and seems perfect for a cold winter’s night.

I always thought those miniature pasta shapes were for soup only. Turns out you can make the ultimate bowl of comfort pasta with them as well.

The food of Andrew Carmellini’s that I tried at The Dutch in NYC was pretty outstanding. Thus, I’m sure these biscuits with honey butter are indeed some of the best you’ll ever try.

Crack. I’m proud to say I’ve never tried the hard stuff. I’m also proud to say I’ve now tried the sweet stuff. As in, Momofuku’s Crack Pie. As in, one bite and the endorphin rush is so great that before you know it, you’ve finished off your entire slice and are wondering if it’s appropriate to go in for more. Sugar as crack.

The stars aligned in my favour one week when I was thinking about what to make for a small dinner party chez moi. Comfort food was at top of mind, especially Martha Stewart’s Perfect Macaroni and Cheese as I’ve wanted to try it for some time (and it was perfect). Low and behold, the Charlie Sheen saga started with his infamous interviews, and I had my theme: crack. Martha’s recipe has become affectionately known as “Crack’n’Cheese,” Charlie’s could-be-on-crack antics were on everyone’s lips, and last fall, Bon Appétit published the recipe for the well-known Momofuku pie. Perfect.

One of my favourite things about recipes on the internet is reviews. The more the better. For every five benign ones, you usually get a gem; telling you what went wrong and how to adjust. Well-known recipes are even better because you can usually find a blogger or two who’s posted the recipe with pictures so that you can get a sense of what it should look like. Or rather, what it looks like when it’s not shot by a professional photographer in a studio.

When researching the Crack Pie, I came upon some roadblocks. First, in addition to an official version in the magazine, there is also an official version from the Los Angeles Times. And as you can surmise, they’re slightly different. I would have to wing it a bit and go with what worked for most people. Not easy considering most people have tried only one version. I did my best at gathering all the evidence.

Preamble aside, my pie turned out perfectly and tasted amazing. But how can you go wrong with an oatmeal cookie crust and a filling that is little more than sugar and eggs? Yes, oatmeal cookie crust. Salty crispness mixed with rich, oozy sweetness results in a dessert high few confections can reach. To take it one step further, I added a dollop of unsweetened whipped cream. You don’t want any more sugar, but more fat? Indeed. Why? Because it’s ideal to have something to cut through the sweetness. And if there’s an opportunity for me to add cream, you know I’m going to do it.

Momofuku Crack Pie

Oat cookie crust:
Nonstick vegetable oil spray
9 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, divided
5 tablespoons (packed) golden brown sugar, divided
2 tablespoons sugar
1 large egg
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons old-fashioned oats
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt, divided

Filling:
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
8 teaspoons milk powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted, cooled slightly
6 1/2 tablespoons whipping cream
4 large egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For oat cookie crust:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper; coat with nonstick spray. Combine 6 tablespoons butter, 4 tablespoons brown sugar, and 2 tablespoons sugar in medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat mixture until light and fluffy, occasionally scraping down sides of bowl, about 2 minutes. Add egg; beat until pale and fluffy. Add oats, flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt and beat until well blended, about 1 minute. Turn oat mixture out onto prepared baking pan; press out evenly to edges of pan. Bake until light golden on top, 17 to 18 minutes. Transfer baking pan to rack and cool cookie completely.

Make cookie crumbs in food processor or by pounding by hand (put crumbs in heavy duty freezer bag, crush with rolling pin); add 3 tablespoons butter, 1 tablespoon brown sugar and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Rub in with fingertips until mixture is moist enough to stick together. Transfer cookie crust mixture to 9-inch-diameter glass pie dish. Using fingers, press mixture evenly onto bottom and up sides of pie dish. Place pie dish with crust on rimmed baking sheet. I had leftover crumbs.

For filling:
Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350 degrees. Whisk both sugars, milk powder, and salt in medium bowl to blend. Add melted butter and whisk until blended. Add cream, then egg yolks and vanilla and whisk until well blended. Pour filling into crust. Bake pie 25 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 325 degrees and continue to bake for another 10 minutes. Turn oven off and leave pie in oven for an additional 10 minutes. The pie will be brown in spots. It will be set around the edges and still a little jiggly in the centre. Cool pie 2 hours in pie dish on rack. Chill uncovered overnight.

Serve cold, either with sifted icing sugar on top or with unsweetened whipped cream.

Still life with pie

It’s almost shameful that I haven’t done a full post on pumpkin pie until now.  And now being almost six weeks post-Thanksgiving.
The almost stays as is because I could eat pumpkin pie all year long.  So there’s never a wrong time to post about my love for that most un-pretty pie. Yes, pumpkin pie.  That once-a-year treat made from a vegetable that rarely breeds excitement.  Except in me.
I can tell you exactly why:  it’s a pie, it’s basically a custard, it’s spicy, it’s not served hot, and it’s best served with whipped cream.  Oh, and there’s no chocolate.  I’m not sure why it took almost thirty years for me to realize that we were a match made in heaven.

With Disney’s version of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow always being a favourite, I must have subconsciously been cultivating my obsession for pumpkin since the early 80s.  For soups, pastas, bars and muffins, I’ve been known to pop open a can or two or point my finger in that direction on a menu.  I always come back to the pie though.  And fall is the best season not (only) because of the return to coats and boots, but because from early October until late November, I’m pretty much guaranteed that pumpkin pie will be on every dessert menu. Yes. Please.

I’m always more than happy to eat someone else’s, especially if they’ve gone to the trouble of actually carving up a sugar pumpkin, but I’m also more than happy to make my own.  Over the past five years or so, the following recipe for the filling has been my standard.  It always comes out perfect and has a great texture, almost like a cheesecake.  As my pastry skills were non-existent back in the day, I’ve always done a crumb crust.  Sometimes with graham crumbs, other times with crushed ginger snaps.  Both are excellent and add an extra layer of flavour.

I had been pondering what an oatmeal cookie crust might be like when I came across a posting on Bobby Flay’s Throwdown pumpkin pie.  You know the show?  Slick Bobby (read: his two chefs) tries to outdo regular folk on their beloved classic recipes and never seems to win. *Cue producers’ credit.*  What intrigued me about his recipe was not that HE TOO does a crumb crust, but that he tops his pie with what amounts to a crushed oatmeal cookie.  I patted myself on the back for my good pondering.  Following a lovely dinner of Melissa Clark’s white bean and sausage stew, I would be serving up my pumpkin pie with some cinnamon crunch to a old friends.  Still November, still allowable without looking obsessed.

The crunch was exactly that and became a fourth texture to play off of the rich crumb, pumpkin middle and crown of cream.  The cream! I can’t forget to tell you about my Throwdown whipped cream.  Secret:  brown sugar.  A friend told me about the magic of brown sugar cream a few years ago, and I’ve never looked back.  Sometimes, I’d be alright just eating a bowl of the cream and saving the pie for another day.  But as that’s less socially acceptable than adoring pumpkin pie and I have jeans to fit in, it hasn’t happened yet.

In conclusion, I think as you are safe to make pumpkin pie for at least two more weeks without feeling weird about it, you should try my pie, with my cream and Bobby’s crunch.  I won’t hold it against you if you eat it at room temperature, but I think it’s best slightly cold and with as much cream as you can handle.

Breakfast of champions

Crumb crust

2 cups of graham crumbs, or crushed cookie of your choice (finely crushed)
1/2 cup  of melted butter
1/3 cup of sugar

Mix crumbs, butter and sugar together and pat onto bottom and sides of pie plate.  Bake for 10 minutes at 400 degrees or until lightly golden.  Cool completely.

Cinnamon crunch
adapted from Bobby Flay

1/4 cup of oats
1/4 cup of flour
1/4 cup of brown sugar
3 1/2 tablespoons of butter, chilled and cut into small cubes
1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon

Cut butter into flour, sugar, oats and cinnamon until coarse crumbs form (processor or fingers).  Pat mixture into a square about 1/4-inch thick on a parchment-lined baking sheet.  Bake for 15 minutes at 350 degrees.  Cool “cookie” completely.  Break into small pieces with your hand.  Store for later.

Pumpkin pie
adapted from Bon Appetit

1 15-ounce can pure pumpkin
1 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk
1/4 cup sour cream or plain full-fat yogurt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 large eggs

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Whisk pumpkin, condensed milk, sour cream, cinnamon, ginger, vanilla, and nutmeg in large bowl to blend. Whisk in eggs. Pour into crust (some filling may be left over).

Bake pie until filling is puffed around sides and set in center, about 55 minutes. Cool pie on rack. (Can be made ahead. Let stand at room temperature 2 hours, or cover and chill overnight.)

Brown sugar cream

3 tablespoons brown sugar
1 cup of whipping cream
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

A few hours before you will whip cream, mix the sugar with the cream (I always put the sugar into the cream carton).  It needs time to melt into the cream.
Whip the cream and sugar until soft peaks begin to form.  Add the vanilla and whip to desired thickness.

Pie. Cream. Crunch.  Done.

Ever since watching The Lost Boys as a too little girl, I find it easy to fall hard for undead heroes.  I spent most of high school daydreaming about Louis and Lestat. 

While late on the bandwagon, I’ve quickly become a devoted fan of True Blood.  Now, I daydream about Bill Compton and his southern drawl.

In honour of the Season 2 premiere, I reached into my freezer and pulled out a leftover treat from my Baking By Hand Made Easy course; the same course where I made the white bread and the addictive vanilla pastry cream.

The real reason I took the course was to learn how to make a pie crust.  The elusive pie crust.  It has always seemed such a daunting task, and truth be told, still does.  But, under the watchful eye of an excellent instructor, I pulled it off and at the end of the night I had two cherry pies ready for the freezer. (My initial inspiration was Agent Cooper.)

There was never a more perfect time to bake my last blood red pie than for the return of Bill and the rest of the colourful crew from Louisiana.

After Sugar served a perfect pappardelle main, we took plates of cherry pie and vanilla ice cream into the living room to await all the bad things that were sure to take place on television that night.  The episode did not disappoint—neither did the pie.

There are many pie crust recipes available, and every family seems to have a tried and true recipe.  So, instead of giving you another one, I’ll pass along the pie tips that Sugar and I learned to help you on your way.  With the summer fruit season upon us, put any crust trepidation aside and go for it.

Pie-making Tips 

- When adding the liquid to your dough, blend just until the liquid “clears” or is absorbed.  The average time in class was about 7 seconds.

- Pies are best baked from frozen.

- Don’t introduce new ingredients.  For example, if there are no eggs in your dough, do not use an egg wash on top.  Simply use water.

- Don’t wash the edges of your crust with egg/milk/water.  Just the centre.  And sprinkle lightly with sugar…again, just the centre.

- Your pie is ready to be taken out of the oven when you jiggle the pie pan and the pie freely moves from the edge.

See you at Merlotte’s!

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.