OMG. It’s been so long since I wrote a blog post that I’ve almost forgotten how to do it. All these buttons and choices and photo sizes that need to be dealt with. No wonder it’s been so long! Well, sorry. Life gets in the way, sometimes. And even with a penchant for quiet evenings at home, life (television, sleep, eating, reading) gets in the way. With little time left before it gets much too hot in my kitchen to bake, I have resolved to gas up the oven to have some material to share. Expect lots of cookies. For now, a cake.

Can you hardly believe it? I, the cake hater, chose to bake a cake for New Year’s Eve. And, double OMG, I loved it. If you scroll to the bottom, you’ll see me making my way through my second piece. Full and tipsy after a cozy celebration at home with some good friends, I plated a large piece of this moist cake, sat myself down, and avoided doing the dishes.

Casual elegance defines this cake. The tatin top takes some time and demonstrates to your guests that you have a bit more skill than simply using a small appliance and turning on the oven. But, given that beyond making the caramel you only need to beat and bake, it’s perfect for when you want something pretty but don’t have all day(s) to make something extravagant. The magic of this cake is the grated pear and star anise in the batter. The grated fruit adds a tremendous amount of moisture, and the spice is unexpected and warming.

Unfortunately, I gave my guests the leftovers, so could not make my way through a third piece. I dream of the January 1 that wasn’t, where I was enjoying a cold piece of this cake for breakfast with a cup of strong coffee. There’s always 2014…

Pear Tatin Cake

Don’t ask me when I found the recipe, but I know that I came across it at some point reading The Globe and Mail. So, I’m a feeling a little bit patriotic that I turned to and am now sharing a recipe by a great Canadian food writer, Lucy Waverman. My cake didn’t turn out as perfect as I’d hoped; my pears browned a bit too much, my caramel bubbled over while baking, and some bits stuck to the pan, but all in all, it was totally fine. I’m eager to try this with other fruit and then varying the spice. I’m thinking apples, maybe strawberries, and even bananas.

I served my cake with a vanilla creme anglaise, but it would pair just as well with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

Biggest piece of advice: put a pan under your cake while baking to catch any dribbles.

You can find the recipe here.

Today’s Special: Mille crepe cake, Lady M Confections, New York

You might have heard about this cake before. It makes many appearances on television, on the Web, and in print as a “best” thing to eat or “must try” in New York, and oh-so-ever rightly so. You cannot dismiss a dessert that’s built on the skill of  a pastry chef to one, create impeccable paper-thin crepes; two, layer them on top of one another with a spackle of whipped cream; and three, finish it off with a bruleed sugar topping. The look of this Lady M confection commands your attention.  And then there’s the eating. Before my fork hit the cake, I was thinking I would have a blissful 10 minutes of eating what might be a pancake cake: spongey and doughy, yet light because they’re only crepes, not silver dollars. But once my fork did hit the cake and descended into each layer, I knew I was in for something much for fun. The pressure of the tines on the crepes pushed forth what seemed like an impossible amount of cream. There were so many crepes and yet so much cream. That skilled pastry chef has a big trick up her sleeve for hiding all of that sweet, rich cream. So, this isn’t a cake of crepes layered with cream; it’s a cake of cream held together by crepes. This Cream hit the jackpot. And then to have the flavour of creme brulee accent each bite with that golden top? There were no complaints from me for paying the $8 + tax + automatic 18% gratuity. I skipped the $6 coffee because I knew I was only going to be about 10 minutes, but you know, there are other more obvious reasons to skip it. Wait for a table, turn off the world for a bit, bliss out.

Lady M Confections
41 E 78th Street, New York

Chocolate cake is tough to pull off. Too dry is never a good thing and is too easily achieved when delving into the homemade cocoa gateau realm. When it’s good though, it’s oh so good. So with my Libra husband’s birthday upon us, I figured no cake could be more man pleasing than one that is moist, chocolatey, and loaded with Guinness.

Sugar. Check. Chocolate. Check. Stout. Check. And did I mention the incredibly soft and frothy cream cheese frosting? This recipe for chocolate Guinness cake from the buxom and lovely Nigella Lawson is one that I have transferred to the “handwritten family recipe book”. This is serious business reserved for the best of the best. Nigella cleverly tops her dark and damp cake with soft white frosting to imitate the froth on top of a good pint. So pretty. So moist. So delicious.

The original recipe can be viewed here, but because I like you I have saved you the grief of converting each ingredient from British weight measurements to volume measurements. You’re welcome. Now just make sure to drink the left over half can of Guinness while it’s still frothy and gorgeous as you bake that pretty cake.

Chocolate Guinness Cake
(recipe from nigella.com)

Images courtesy of www.thekitchn.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.

Um. Braised french onion chicken with gruyere. Enough said.

It’s as good a time as any to start using up those berries you froze. To honour my love of Friday Night Lights, I suggest you make this Texas-style blueberry cobbler. Clear eyes, full hearts…

Did the whipped cream you brought for your pumpkin pie to the potluck deflate? Try this method next time.

Post-Thanksgiving is not a time for giving things up. That’s what January is for. Keep your engine revving with this out of control dark chocolate and salted caramel layer cake.

Dim sum at home—pork or veggie steamed buns.

I think I have excellent willpower. I can pass the candy dishes at work without a second look, turn my nose up at cupcake shops and let the fuss over macarons be just that, a fuss. I’m even fairly (read: a little) successful at rationing any baking I do to a daily treat by putting my freezer to good use. My Achilles’ heel? Ice cream. I always have room. So much so, that I can’t keep it in the house. A dish for dessert turns into a midnight spoonful turns into a 2 a.m. half pint frenzy. The remaining vanilla bought for a pie or a cake gets gobbled while I go through my mail when I get home from work—my hollow legs argument is increasingly proving false as I age.

My inner addict was gobsmacked when she came upon a recipe that promised the creaminess of ice cream without any of the guilt. My inner foodie felt the same when she saw that it was made with only one ingredient: bananas. This is another one of those recipes that’s been circulating because no one can believe that it’s possible. But it is. Frozen bananas turn into a creamy, sweet treat with the help of a blender or food processor. Add a few extra flavourings, and you’ll do a pretty good job of fooling your brain into thinking your doing some major indulging. Ice cream, it’s not… BUT the flavour did remind me of a banana milkshake, and that’s made with ice cream, right?

Please try to outdo me in the artistic peanut butter drizzle department.

Banana “Ice Cream”
Adapted from thekitchn.com

Makes one serving.

2 large bananas
2 teaspoons peanut butter
1 teaspoon honey
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Peel and slice bananas into coins. Place in freezer for 90 minutes to two hours, until frozen solid.
Put frozen coins in food processor or blender and process for a few minutes, scraping down sides often. Over the course of a few minutes, the coins will go from chopped to pasty to creamy. Add peanut butter, honey and cinnamon, and process until incorporated. The heat of the motor will make it a bit too soft now. Scrape into a bowl and freeze for about 15 minutes for a soft-serve/gelato-like texture or longer for a firmer “ice cream.” Top with more peanut butter, chocolate sauce, chocolate chips, etc.

A good bar cookie can sometimes run circles around a regular old cookie, especially if you’re like me and enjoy thick, soft cookie middles. A pan of bar cookies can be looked upon as a pan of cookie middles for the most part. The edges, of course, get that crisp edge of a regular cookie, but the middle ones… oh, those middle ones. Dangerous.

These bars are gooey and crumbly and hard to stop eating. They’d stand up well to a strong cup of coffee. Cut large and cradling a large scoop of vanilla ice cream — you’d make your date putty in your hands. Crumbled small and thrown over big bowls of vanilla ice cream with hot fudge or caramel — your kids might just offer to rake the golden leaves. Fall is letting itself be known. Time to turn the oven on again.

Chocolate-Fig Oatmeal Bars
Adapted from Martha Stewart

3/4 cup unsalted butter, melted, plus more for pan
3/4 cup packed light-brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon orange zest
1 cup all-purpose flour, (spooned and leveled)
2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 cup chopped dried figs*
1/2 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter an eight-inch square baking pan. Line bottom with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on two sides; butter paper.
In a large bowl, whisk together butter, sugars, egg, salt, and orange zest until smooth. Add flour, oats, chocolate chips and figs; fold in just until combined.
Spread batter in prepared pan, and bake until a toothpick inserted in center comes out with moist crumbs attached, 25 to 30 minutes. Cool completely in pan. Using paper overhang, lift cake onto a work surface; cut into ~16 bars (or fewer for bigger bars). Can be stored at room temperature in an airtight container for three days.

*If there is time, soak your figs first in hot water to soften. Drain well. I find that softened dried fruit has a much better texture in baked goods.

When I returned to Vancouver after a quick trip back to Edmonton recently, summer had finally arrived. The skies have been blue, the sun warm and the living easy. Clearly time to eat summer fruit every moment you can. And when you’re not eating it, you need to be freezing it, cooking with it, turning it into x, y and z. They are ice cream’s natural mate and a much better way to fulfill 3 o’clock sugar cravings.

As you know, I’m not really one for cake. But I am a big fan of Deb and know that this buttermilk cake recipe (originally from Gourmet) is esteemed by many. With some buttermilk in my fridge and the need to make a quick and pretty dessert, I put my preferences aside for the greater good of the dinner party. And as my buckle was essentially a cake, and I loved it, I knew that my anti-cake stance had relaxed a bit.

I don’t really know what makes a good cake good because I stay away so much. But for me, this was good. Moist, light and full of flavour, it didn’t take me long to decide on having a second piece. It went well with vanilla ice cream, of course, but I don’t see how whipped cream would hurt it, or just eating it as is. I should also say it’s dead easy, comes together in no time and is pretty enough for a picture.

Buttermilk Cake

I followed the recipe at Smitten Kitchen, substituting blueberries and chopped nectarine for the raspberries. For the sugar top, I remembered at the last minute and the closest thing within reach was a larger grain sugar. I don’t think it did any harm.

Image from www.lottieanddoof.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.

I had some fantastic raspberries with vanilla ice cream the other night (’tis the season). Going one step further in this ingenious mix of sour cream and a bruleed top seems like one in the right direction.

You could keep stepping and try this raspberry swamp pie, which would ask you to make pie crust.

Za’atar za’atar everywhere! Sugar and I both seem to be attracted to it right now.  Here’s a recipe that uses it on pizza.

I bookmarked this salted caramel cheesecake ages ago and still haven’t made it. I think it’s time for you now to consider it.

What to bring to the barbecue this weekend? Maybe this crushed new potato and pea salad?

Here out west, we had a late spring, which has translated into a late/non-existent summer, which has then translated into favourite summer berries being late out of the gate. They are starting to trickle in now, so it’s the perfect time to eat bowls and bowls of them as well as to make all manners of crisps, crumbles, betties and pandowdies.  And how about buckles? I’m not really sure what distinguishes a buckle, and I don’t really care to know.  All that matters is that a buckle is a delicious way to turn pristine summer berries into a sexy mess of a dessert.   With strawberry juice on your chin and cream in the corners of your mouth, cooked-down fruit, fluffy cake, a sugary crumb and something creamy on top turn you into a sexy mess at the table. It’s the best.

Strawberry Buckle
Adapted from Lottie & Doof

Lottie & Doof used rhubarb, but I couldn’t resist using some fresh local strawberries. I reduced the amount of sugar and lemon juice the strawberries macerate in. It’s still a bit of juicy (perfect for the cake to soak up), so I think it would be best to serve it once it’s cooled down quite a bit.

4 cups sliced strawberries
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tbsp cornstarch, dissolved in 1 tbsp water
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/4 cup lightly packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 tbsp oats
Pinch of salt
2 tbsp unsalted butter, cubed and chilled

1 cup all-purpose flour
2 tbsp whole wheat flour
1/2 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 stick unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup + 2 tbsp sugar
1 1/2 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tbsp honey
1/2 cup + 2 tbsp buttermilk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Make the filling: In a large bowl, toss the strawberries with the sugar, lemon juice, cornstarch slurry and vanilla. Let it macerate for about 30 minutes.

Make the crumb topping: In a medium bowl, work the butter into the dry ingredients with your fingers until combined. You’ll have small to medium crumbs. Refrigerate until needed.

Make the cake: In a medium bowl, whisk the flours with the baking powder and salt. In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, beat the butter with the sugar at medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about three minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well between additions. Beat in the vanilla extract and honey. Scrape down the sides of the bowl. Add the dry ingredients to the batter in three additions, alternating with the buttermilk.

Assemble the buckle: Pour the fruit filling into a 8-by-8-inch glass or ceramic square baking dish. Spoon the batter over the fruit filling, spreading it to the edge. Sprinkle with the crumb topping. Bake in the center of the oven for about one hour, until the filling is bubbling and the crumb topping is golden.  Serve warm or at room temperature with ice cream or whipped cream.  Whipped cream flavoured with lemon zest was a hit at my house…

Serves 6 generously.

It should come as no surprise to some of you, that dessert was also a highlight of my day while in Turkey. I always have room. And of course, because it’s vacation, I had extra room.

Growing up with Big Turk as a chocolate bar reality, Turkish Delight, or lokum, never held much appeal, even with me being a jelly candy kind of girl. Along with apple tea and carpets, you’re never very far in Turkey from someone wanting to sell you lokum. When something is everywhere, there is usually lots of bad. But when you do find the good stuff, you’re hooked.  Kind of like with baklava. A lot of Turkish sweets are dripping in honey and simple syrup. And as I find with a lot of baklava here, more drippings are used to hide bad dough handling.  Good dough handling, where the layers almost move from soft and rich to airy and crisp, results in the kind of baklava that entices you to eat piece after piece after piece…

Dried fruit was my sweet snack of choice. The unsulfured apricots were my favourite, but I also made my way through bags of black plums, yellow plums, cherries and black mulberries.

Pudding. Cream chose wisely when she placed Turkey under her finger on a map. This culture of pudding lovers was a perfect match for this all-things-creamy loving fool. Firin sütlaç is Turkish rice pudding and it always comes cold with a burnt top.  Here, rice is a thickener rather than a star, so the grains are few and far between.

I would walk by the dessert shops and be mesmerized by all the puddings and their many colours. A banana pudding with tahini and grape molasses was particularly memorable given the unparticular setting of my hotel. When on the Cesme peninsula, I had the opportunity to fall head over with the flavour of mastic. Cookies, lokum, sugar-free gum. I loved it in all forms. Sakizli muhallebi with a topping of vanilla ice cream during my last night in Alacati made a particularly good impression.

The underdog: tavuk gögsü kazandibi. Burnt bottom chicken breast pudding. That’s right, chicken breast. A pudding made with finely shredded chicken breast to thicken it up. The first taste is a leap of faith, even when you’ve got some vanilla ice cream in there to mask any potential ick factor. No ick. All mmmmmmmmm…

You see the fibres. You know it’s chicken. But the only thing going through your mind is that it’s quite possible you’ll need another order because you’ve developed a strong affinity for it. It’s a thick thick thick vanilla pudding with an almost marshmallow-like texture that’s then accented with the extra sweetness that comes from being at the bottom of the pot.

Ciya Sofrasi has been written up by more than one author as being one of the best restaurants in Istanbul. I went twice. As much as I loved the starters and mains, I also went back because I wanted to try more of the desserts. The first go, I had kerebic, which is a semolina cookie/ball filled with pistachios. Not really crispy and not really soft, you use your fork to break into a wonderful green middle. It’s served alongside a sweet white foam that aids in digestion. The host described it in broken English as sort of being like marshmallow without the marsh. Whatever. It tasted delicious, especially when washed down with oregano tea.

The candied veg intrigued me to no end, and I had to try a little bit of both the candied eggplant and pumpkin… and the special pistachio baklava filled with cream. So sweet and chewy those veg were that I could only handle a few bites.  You can see kaymak makes an appearance, as it did above, atop the ekmek kadayif (Turkish bread pudding) on that mixed plate of baklava. Are you surprised that I couldn’t escape its rich, creamy grip?