This post is an installment from the ongoing Dessert FourPlay project, in which I prepare and write about all of the desserts in Dessert FourPlay: Sweet Quartets from a Four-Star Pastry Chef by Johnny Iuzzini. For more on this project, click here.

Oh. My. God. I just loved making this so much. First off, there is the doughnut component. As in, the dessert item that brings my two favorite culinary worlds together – bread and pastry, and throws in my favorite guilty pleasure – fried dough rolled in some sort of sweet granulated substance, just for good measure. Then there’s the subtle, mellow, slightly sweet and oh, so creamy cheese filling. And, the bright flavor from confit of meyer lemon. Yes, this is sunshine and light and guilt and cheese (!) all on one plate.

A few weeks ago I saw some perfect meyer lemons at the market and I impulsively bought them with this confit in mind, because I was worried that I’d never find such perfect specimens for the rest of the citrus season. If you were wondering, meyer lemons are the darling of the winter pastry kitchen. They have intense lemon flavor and bouquet, less of the bitter white pith, and are sweet enough to avoid making the involuntary pucker-fish face when you taste them. To confit them, you cut them into very thin slices, submerge them in simple syrup, and allow them to simmer in the sugar and their own juices at a very low heat for several hours.

Next, I scooped the insides and all of the white stuff out of Kumquat halves and blanched the skins four times, draining the water each time to remove the bitterness. After the blanching, I simmered the skins in simple syrup, to make candied Kumquats, which I then minced to add to the doughnut filling.

I also prepared a pastry cream that contains one scraped vanilla bean and almost no sugar at all – a departure from the pastry cream that I’ve now prepared a bajillion times in school, that is super sweet.

I added the leftover vanilla bean pod to the bowl of my food processor and pulverized it with some sugar, which, after sifting, became my vanilla sugar.

I tossed the vanilla sugar with the zest of an orange, lemon, and a key lime and then set it aside for dredging my doughnuts.

Meanwhile, the dough that I’d prepared had finished it’s bulk fermentation, so I rolled it out and cut it into small circles. I refrigerated the circles until I was ready to use them, allowing them to come back to room temperature and finish their final proof before frying.

If you’ve never deep fat fried something at home, then you don’t know what you’re missing.

After frying, I poked a hole into the side of each doughnut and I moved the skewer around inside to hollow out the doughnut and make room for the filling (a trick I learned from the doughnut master during my internship at the Brooklyn restaurant). I piped in the cream filling, made from a blend of the pastry cream, mascarpone cheese, ricotta, and shards of candied kumquat. I should have rolled the doughnuts in the vanilla-citrus sugar first, but I didn’t, so the sugar did not evenly stick to the outside. I compensated by mounding it on top, deliciously, but not so artfully. The results were amazing. The citrus was bright and refreshing. There’s nothing like a doughnut that’s only 30 seconds out of the fryer. And the cheese filling? Unbelieveable. Not too sweet with strong notes of creamy vanilla and kumquat. Oh my. Yes.

Next up: Grapefruit Gelee ~ Honey-Ginger Ice Cream

Interested in playing along? Click to get your copy of Dessert FourPlay: Sweet Quartets from a Four-Star Pastry Chef

We’re in the home stretch of winter, but it sure doesn’t feel like that here in New York, with another foot of snow getting dumped down just before the weekend. And while I can debate forever with the snow lovers, weighing the virtues and the pitfalls of having such a large amount of snow around, setting aside the tiny window of city beautification, no one can argue that it sucks when the sewers get clogged, causing mass confusion for each street crossing on every corner. Bah! humbug! to that. Even folks rocking those country-chic Hunters I’m seeing everywhere can’t escape from the lakes of slush unsplashed.

Why do I rant on about this? Well, in spite of the slushy walking conditions, I had promises to keep and dinner to make for two semi-celebrity guests: Paul, the incredibly gifted designer who is responsible for giving this site its face, and his lovely wife Jen. When selecting the menu, this recipe spoke to my favorite fun fact about the couple – they met, unbelievably, on spring break in Cancun, and ten years later, they’re one of the happiest couples you’re ever likely to meet. Rum and coke ice cream? Tropical caramelized bananas? Perfect, no? But back to the slush – this recipe had some doozies on the shopping list, so there I was, running around from store to store, covered in slush.

Nothing that  a little planning ahead couldn’t have prevented, but my lack of foresight sent me off around the city in search of peanut flour – which is blanched, ground, partially-defatted peanuts. I hit all of my favorite specialty spots, and no one had it. Other nuts, no problem. Hazelnut flour? Sure.  Almond flour? You got it! Even at Whole Foods! Chestnut flour? Yes ‘mam. Defeated, I returned home and made my own version, by grinding unsalted, dry roasted peanuts to the point that they were still somewhat granular (as opposed to peanut butter – hence the defatted property of the genuine article) and then blanching them (to remove some of the oil), draining them, dehydrating them in the oven, grinding them, and sifting them. They were still too coarse, the real deal would have produced a better texture, but they worked enough. In the future, I’ll just buy the stuff from this website.

But wait, there’s more. The ice cream recipe calls for cola syrup, which imparts the concentrated flavor of Coca Cola and all of the sugar, without adding a ton of extra liquid that would otherwise create additional, unwanted ice crystallization when freezing. This syrup is used by any bar or restaurant with a soda fountain, it come is huge bags and is combined with CO2 and water to make soda. When Brian commented earlier in the week that perhaps I should go online to find it in smaller quantities, I blew him off, “pshaw, I took cola syrup when I was a teenager for an upset stomach, it’s a pharmacy staple.” When Brian ran out of fingers to count how many years have passed since I’d last taken coke syrup for an upset tummy, he stopped talking, and because he is a great boyfriend, he accompanied me to CVS, Duane Reade, and Wallgreens, where each time, I was shot down by the pharmacist. Feeling desperate, I tried the mom and pop pharmacy down on 5th and A, which, in addition to a scary window display of prosthetic legs, happily carries the old-timey remedy.

Returning home victorious, I made the ice cream, which I was surprised to learn, does not contain any heavy cream. I was pleased with the rum and coke flavors, but felt that the texture could have been improved with the addition of some fat. I’m still wondering why it didn’t have any, and that perhaps Johnny Iuzzini left it out because the additional fat, combined with the alcohol and high fructose corn syrup (definitely a first for this kitchen, by the way) would have prevented it from freezing at all. Indeed, the addition of rum at the end made it dangerously soft, but with some time in the freezer it was scoop-able.

Then it was time to try out my homemade peanut flour. I buttered sheets of phyllo, layering them between a sifted mixture of confectioner’s sugar and the peanut flour, attempting to keep the mixture as even as possible. I hadn’t ground my peanuts finely enough, resulting in some dark roasted peanut specks between the caramelized phyllo layers after baking. I didn’t care though – the phyllo crisps were still awesome and utterly addictive. We couldn’t stop nibbling at the edges as they cooled.

While the phyllo sheets were in the oven, I chopped some more peanuts and tossed them with corn syrup. I baked them, stirring regularly, on a silicone mat.

And, in classic style, I stopped taking pictures. Guests were here. Wine was poured. We enjoyed Brian’s amazing, deconstructed caviar potatoes (that’s a “blanket” of creme fraiche gel, on top, just in case you were wondering). I walked away from the table and caramelized the bananas, something I learned to do at the Brooklyn restaurant internship, but had never mastered. The first pan was mushy, but the second pan was a lot better. Either way, there’s not a lot that could be bad about caramelized bananas and rum.

The caramelized bananas were made for the rum and coke flavor from the ice cream. The complimentary roasted peanut flavors were a bit of a surprise, and the phyllo shattered between our teeth before melting on the tongue. It was the perfect escape from the slush piles, and totally worth the scavenger hunting through them.

Next up: Cheese Doughnuts ~ Lemon Confit

Interested in playing along? Click to get your copy of Dessert FourPlay: Sweet Quartets from a Four-Star Pastry Chef

I have to admit it, the “puffs” pictured above are impostors – Whole Foods 365 brand that I purchased while at my wits end grocery shopping on Valentine’s Day weekend. I’m not sure that it made a difference, but, being the daughter of an emphatically anti-sugar cereal mother, I’ve still never had the pleasure of tasting real cocoa puffs. The real bummer, however, was that I’d planned on buying Valhrona 40% milk chocolate for coating the puffs, as the recipe suggested, but found myself screwed over once again by the romantically inclined shoppers of Whole Foods. They were fresh out and I settled on the Callabaut 33% instead, which is more sweet and strongly vanilla flavored, and has a markedly lighter color.

The biggest star in this dessert is the flavor of juniper berries, which I crushed and infused with some of the warmed milk for half an hour. The flavor imparted from the juniper berries, when combined with Valrhona 72% bittersweet chocolate, is complex and divine, and I’m so excited to now have this flavor combination in my arsenal as we begin working with chocolate at the FCI.

I used an immersion blender to create an emulsion of melted chocolate and juniper-infused milk, and just like that, the soup was ready to chill.

Devon cream, aka Devonshire cream, according to Wikipedia, is: “a type of clotted cream made by heating unpasteurised cow’s milk and then leaving it in shallow pans for several hours. During this time, the cream content rises to the surface and forms clots.” I didn’t anticipate having trouble finding a jar of the stuff, considering the number of Brits in Manhattan, but after three unsuccessful attempts in specialty stores I opted for plan B: making the cheat version. Luckily, I learned to make a lovely styling of Devonshire cream back at the Brooklyn restaurant where I used to intern, using Mascarpone cheese, heavy cream, and just a bit of sugar and lemon juice. I subbed it in for the real deal, and created my foam using the immersion blender once again.

Components: Devon foam, bittersweet, juniper-infused cold chocolate soup, chocolate-covered cocoa puffs, and extra-tall shot glass (which we had on hand courtesy of Brian’s fraternity ball, circa 2000, but I’ve also seen them at CB2).

This dessert goes down as perhaps my favorite incarnation of chocolate to date. There’s nothing too sweet here, the milk chocolate of the cocoa puffs is well-balanced with lots of intense bitter flavor from the soup. The juniper berries, as I already mentioned are made for this kind of chocolate, they harmonize so well that I can’t believe more pastry chefs and chocolatiers are not pushing the combination. The Devon foam, though not completely authentic, still lent a nice contrast of subtle sweet flavor and smooth texture, I found myself trying very hard to ration the cocoa puffs as to get a little foam, puff, and soup on my spoon with every bite. I can’t wait to make this for dinner party guests.

Next up: Flameed Bananas ~ Rum and Coke Ice Cream ~ Peanut Phyllo Crisps

Interested in playing along? Click to get your copy of Dessert FourPlay: Sweet Quartets from a Four-Star Pastry Chef

So yesterday was Valentine’s Day. Was it just me, or did it seem like people made more of a fuss about it than usual this year? My feelings on this Hallmark holiday can best be described as love/hate. One the one hand, all that pink and red crap, the blatant consumerism masquerading as love, and the starry-eyed, cooing couples who seem to think that grotesque displays of PDA are suddenly acceptable… all of that is completely off-putting. On the other hand, I have some great memories of nights inspired by Valentine’s Day backlash; wine-fueled all-girls dinner parties, slasher movie marathons, defiant nights out in the Village with every unattached friend I’d ever had. This year, the fact that Brian and I cooked a decadent dinner of caviar potatoes and cracked a bottle of amarone had nothing to do with the fact that it happened to be Valentine’s Day, and everything to do with us seizing the opportunity to spend a nice night at home together – something our schedules haven’t permitted us to do since New Year’s Day.

When I selected two chocolate desserts (this, and also, the Chocolate Soup – post coming soon) for the Dessert FourPlay project this week, it much less a coincidence: I did it, unabashedly, as a tribute to the holiday that I so love to hate. When I set out to blog the whole book, I knew that I would eventually have to make this, the most “conventional” dessert, at some point. What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was how much I would enjoy doing it. But enough of my blathering.

The Jean-Georges Warm Chocolate Cake did not inspire a whole lot of excitement at first glance. I’m not one of those Cathy cartoon style “chocoholics” who’d, I imagine, swoon for desserts like this. I enjoy chocolate, but when it comes to selecting a dessert, I get way more excited about fruit, spice, or caramel. But, I wasn’t bored, because I learned a lot of cool new things with this dessert, and discovered some new loves of my own. For starters, the candied vanilla bean pod garnish is exactly my kind of thing. Vanilla Beans are, for me, one of the most sensual, complex ingredients – the very act of cutting one open and scraping the lush, oily seeds from the pod, the unbelievable fragrance… just wow. That takes me there. Do that, then take the pods, slice them thin, simmer them in simple syrup and roll them in granulated sugar so they shimmer, and you may begin to understand just what I love so much about this cooking stuff.

Equally delightful, the chocolate sauce also took me by surprise. Others that I’ve tried before called for corn syrup and liquor for texture and flavor, but this deceptively simple recipe has neither. Slow simmering coaxes out the most unbelievably thick and dark chocolate flavor that I ever could have hoped for. I’m resisting the urge to go stick a spoon in the leftovers right now.

Heaps of praise are also due for the chocolate crumble, which is essentially a cookie made from a dark, buttery dough…

…baked until crisp, and then pulverized in the food processor. In addition to lending contrast of texture, the crumble serves the purpose of cradling ice cream on the plate, preventing it from sliding away and colliding with the cake.

The vanilla bean ice cream recipe called for both invert sugar (which I made by cooking sugar, water, and lemon juice) and corn syrup, which some might balk at until they taste the creamy results. Iuzzini explains that invert sugar helps reduce ice crystallization and lends a softer mouth-feel and smoother texture, both of which are especially hard to achieve in my detached canister model home ice cream maker. I’m looking forward to using this technique whenever I make ice cream in the future.

With all of the accessories ready, all that remained was making the cake itself. For this recipe to be successful, it’s important to that you achieve proper volume when whipping the eggs and yolks with the sugar. Stand mixers make this extremely easy, and the cake batter can be piped into ramekins and stored in the fridge for up to 8 hours before baking.

Which makes it a great dessert for showy dinner parties, because once you have everything ready to go, you can entertain your guests, pop the cakes in the oven, plate, and serve, like nothing ever happened. They’ll all think you’re some kind of domestic god(dess).

Just to recap, the elements of the dessert: chocolate crumble, vanilla bean ice cream, candied vanilla bean, and the warm chocolate cake (not pictured).

So here’s where it becomes painfully apparent that I’m not up to the point in school where they teach us how to artfully plate anything. That swoosh of sauce  in the picture is try #4, and it still looks like a fifth grader did it. Also, the quenelle of ice cream is very very sad. Nothing like the museum-quality one in Johnny Iuzzini’s book, with the perfect points on either end. And, I had an unmolding issue with my cake, due to insufficient buttering of the ramekin. Despite the fact that by appearance, this is a plate that only a mother could love, it put a smile on my fiance’s face, and that’s all I ever really need.

Next up: Chocolate Soup

Interested in playing along? Click to get your copy of Dessert FourPlay: Sweet Quartets from a Four-Star Pastry Chef

I am so excited to be posting installment #1 of the Dessert FourPlay project! It took me a while to decide which recipe would make the best opener, but after narrowing it down by season and deciding that I wanted to save chocolate for next week’s valentine’s day post, I decided to focus on the light and bright flavors of the citrus salad. It seemed like an appropriate starter.

For those of you who are not familiar with the book, the desserts in Dessert FourPlay are organized into sets (tastings) of four different desserts, served together for a ridiculous experience of flavor, texture, and taste. Since I’m too strapped for time to tackle four at once, I’ve decided to focus on one or two of the component desserts each week. So imagine, if you will, this salad, sitting alongside lemongrass ice cream with dehydrated grapefruit, carbonated lime curd, and crispy tangerine sticks; a citrus almond sponge cake with margarita semifreddo; and a meyer lemon tart with chocolate creme chiboust and earl grey fluid gel – and you begin to get the idea, this ain’t your grandma’s cookbook.

The very first task that I completed was baking the brioche. I’m always down for trying a new brioche recipe, and Chef Iuzzini’s proved to be a delight: light, rich, and extremely buttery. This particular recipe employs thin slices of brioche, destined to become sweet croutons.

The most difficult step in the process was procuring the calamansi puree, a task that prompted some internet research. The names “calamansi” and “kalamansi” appear to be interchangeable for this lime-like citrus fruit that is popular in the Philippines and other parts of Southeast Asia. I tried Kalustyans (who carries fruit puree, but not this flavor) and Dual Specialty (which does not carry any purees at all), before finally scoring at SOS Chefs, just blocks from my apartment. I was less successful in finding micro shiso (or even the alternative, red shiso), and after trying Whole Foods followed by some Asian groceries in Chinatown, I decided that I’d try to find some small mint leaves to use instead, which is what is suggested as an acceptable substitute for shiso in the Alinea cookbook. Unfortunately, even the nicest mint I could find looked like it had been severely beaten, and it smelled like nothing at all. I couldn’t bring myself to use such a sad product, and so, I forged on, without it.

I diced a very thin slice of brioche and allowed it to stale on the counter, then I tossed it with good olive oil, a pinch of salt, and a sprinkle of granulated sugar and toasted it in the oven at the same time as some black and white sesame seeds.

I let some gelatin bloom in cold water before adding it to a saucepan of simple syrup. I very carefully circulated the pan over a low flame just until the gelatin had melted, with the warning from my Pastry I  chef echoing in my head “DO NOT heat gelatin over 100 degrees, or your mousse will smell like a barn!”. I’m not sure if that’s true, but I’m just as happy never really knowing for sure.

To the gelatin solution, I added lime zest and the calamansi puree.

I had decided not to taste the calamansi until it was part of the final dessert, just so I could be surprised. It smelled amazing – like the lovechild of a lime and a tangerine, and it was all I could do to wait while the gelatin set up.

While I was waiting, I kept myself occupied by cutting supremes of blood orange and clementine.

Once the calamansi gel had set, I cut it into “noodles”.

Dessert components: blood orange and clementine supremes, toasted sesame seeds, sweet and salty brioche croutons (warning: addictive), and calamansi “noodles”. Missing components: micro shiso.

The verdict: Just WOW. It’s been kind of a dark week for me, our cat Nico is very sick, the weather has been cold and isolating, and a whole crack team (get it? crack team? Plumbers? heh) can’t seem to figure out how to fix the heat in my apartment. This dessert is like an uplifting, sunny day on a plate, an homage to citrus flavors as they are. The presentation is gorgeous, it reminds me of stained glass in natural light. The first bite was an explosion of perfect citrus, subtly sweet and tangy, accented by a hint of caramel crunch from the croutons. The best part is when the “noodles” start melting on the tounge, coating it with a sweet/tart layer to compliment the firm flesh of the citrus perfectly. Calamansi is truly unique, like a lime but sweeter, with a hint of good, solid bitterness. The leftover puree is destined to find its place in the best pisco margarita this kitchen has ever seen.

As for the leftover gelatin, I couldn’t resist the book’s suggestion to add gin “for a killer “jell-o” shot. Salute!

Interested in playing along? Click to get your copy of Dessert FourPlay: Sweet Quartets from a Four-Star Pastry Chef

So I scored that internship at the fancy Manhattan restaurant (thank you to readers for your kind words via comments and email), and tomorrow I’ll be working my last shift in the Brooklyn kitchen where I’ve come to feel at home. The next three months will be filled with some very serious schooling that I hope will help me take my cooking to another level and expose me to techniques that I’ll never learn in school. As excited as I am about all of this, lately I’ve been feeling a bit glum about leaving Brooklyn behind, for two reasons: I’m going to miss the company of the chefs and cooks who gently mentored me and made work fun, and, most of all, I’ll miss the satisfaction that comes from creating something from start to finish. You see, for a pastry cook (or intern), the biggest difference between working at a high-quality, rustic style restaurant and working in high pressure, fine dining is that at the former you are involved in the entire plate – the cake, the ganache, the swoop of sauce, and the candied garnish that goes on top. In fine dining, where one plate may have 20 components, multiplied by the number of items on the menu, I may have my hands in a few tiny pieces of the finished product, but I’ll never be able to look at something and say “yeah, I made that.”

That’s not to say that there’s no satisfaction in creating the prefect shard of candied kumquat to sit atop a plated masterpiece – there totally is, and there’s no better way to learn to do something really well than having to do nothing but it, for hours on end. But, being a girl who wants it all, I’ve decided to take on a project to experience the art of making intricate, higher-tech desserts, from soup to nuts. Admittedly, this pursuit feels a bit trite in the shadows of Julie & Julia and the beautiful opus that  is Alinea At Home, but I hope that I’ll walk away with some important lessons learned.

The book on which I’ve set my sights is Dessert FourPlay, a cookbook of sophisticated, high-tech, psychedelic recipes from the imagination of renowned pastry chef Johnny Iuzzini. The project will sacrifice some founding tenents of the East Village Kitchen, especially the one about avoiding hard-to-find ingredients, while upholding others; the dessert courses are organized by season and designed to celebrate Mother Nature’s latest and greatest.

So here’s what I’m thinking. I’m going to take on one of Chef Iuzzini’s recipes per week, or two, if I’m feeling ambitious or have dinner party guests to impress. I’m not going to set a timeframe for the project, if I come to the end of one season before the next has begun, I don’t want to feel pressure to use inferior strawberries shipped from thousands of miles away just to stay on schedule and adhere to an arbitrary deadline, when I can wait a few weeks and use amazing ones from the farmer’s market instead.

And, if I cook something that I really love that’s not from the book, I’ll be sure to write about it here, just as I have always done. The blog is not changing permanently, this project just reflects where my head’s at, which is pretty much the point of having a blog in the first place. I understand that I risk losing a lot of my regular readers who will surely feel that they were lured here with enticing recipes for a bait-and-switch, but I hope they forgive me as I get this off my chest. Please join me dear readers, because damn, it’s gonna be a blast!

For the past few weeks, I’ve been inching slowly (and sometimes, painfully) back into the robust workout routine that I observed before I got myself involved with all this culinary school business. These new miles of pounded pavement have been making me feel ravenous between meals, and I’ve been on the lookout for snacks that can satisfy, while being tasty, nutritious, and low in calories and fat.

Ironically, when I first encountered this healthy, nutritious snack, I was sitting down to a celebratory dinner of epic and caloric proportions at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, a restaurant/working farm/theme park for food dorks like me who are into sustainable, farm-to-table cuisine. Tuscan kale chips, artfully suspended above antique wooden blocks by a thin piece of wire, were the first of the parade of amuse bouche that we enjoyed that night. Everyone in our party was delighted by their simple beauty and surprised by how delicious they were. They were the perfect introduction to the flavor and feel of the restaurant.

You can imagine my excitement when, as I was rifling through old issues of Bon Appetit weeks later, I discovered the very same recipe we’d enjoyed at the restaurant. Happily, when it comes to my snacking criteria, these kale chips fit the bill on all counts. Their texture is delicate and crisp, they crumble between the teeth and then dissolve away on the tongue. They have an earthy, nutty flavor, that is well complimented with a sprinkle of salt and black pepper. I think I may even try making them with a bit of Spanish paprika for a little bit of smoky heat. They are fully of vitamins, and the negligible fat that they contain is the good kind.

Best of all, they are ridiculously easy to make. I’ve been bagging these up to take along with me as a mid-day snack, mindlessly nibbling on them while I answer emails, and pushing them on Brian when he whines about being hungry before dinner. I also fully intend to make a batch to stand up in tall glasses next to the cheese and finger foods the next time I entertain, because if these are fancy enough to serve in a classy joint like Blue Hill at Stone Barns, then surely they are good enough for my tiny apartment.

Tuscan Kale Chips
Adapted from Dan Barber’s recipe, courtesy of Bon Appetit, February 2009

I made a few adjustments from the original recipe: I found that they were less likely to have burnt spots if I rubbed the oil into the nooks and crannies and the outer edges on both sides of the kale. Also, after my first batch with salt sprinkled on them came out with visible salty spots, I decided to try sprinkling them with a salt solution instead. These measures add a few more minutes to the process, but they make the results more aesthetically pleasing. Feel free to skip them if you are in a hurry and/or don’t care as much what they look like- taste will not be effected. If bagging up to take along for a portable snack, be sure that there is air in the sealed bag to act as a cushion to prevent them from being crushed.

12 large Tuscan kale leaves, rinsed, dried, cut lengthwise in half, center ribs and stems removed
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt
fresh ground black pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 250°F. In a small saucepan, heat 1/2 cup water with the salt and stir to dissolve. Once the salt is completely dissolved, remove from heat and allow to cool. Toss kale with oil in large bowl and rub the leaves to make sure they are coated evenly. Sprinkle with pepper and the salt water mixture to taste, and shake off excess liquid. Arrange leaves in single layer on 2 large baking sheets. Bake until crisp, about 30 minutes for flat leaves and up to 33 minutes for wrinkled leaves. Transfer leaves to rack to cool.

Speaking as someone who is learning to cook for a living, I’ve got a sad, embarrassing confession for you: I’m just not that into cooking meals at home these days. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I’m on my feet at 5AM and I’m baking biscuits by 6. Or maybe it’s an over-saturation of the senses, the intoxicating smell of pan-caramelized apples wafting up at me, and the constant bombardment of sauteed garlic, homey herbs, and savory braise smells of the creations from another cook, desensitizing my desire for good food. Whatever the cause, when the time to cook when the day’s end rolls around, I’ve been struggling to muster much enthusiasm.

I’ve come up with a counter-intuitive solution to my problem by challenging myself to only cook dinners that I’m genuinely excited about eating. They don’t have to be hard recipes or take hours to make, in fact most of them so far have been made up on the fly. They do need to be dishes I’ll look forward to eating, meals worthy of opening a moderately priced bottle of wine to enjoy midweek. To select these recipes, I pause and ask myself, as I’m heading by the store on the way home, “what am I hungry for?” And then, I make that thing. So far, it’s been a success.

The other night, I was jonesing for fresh pasta – something that I’ve practiced enough to confidently make whenever I need it, as long as I have a spare hour available for the dough to do its requisite chilling in the fridge.

I had portobellos, shiitakes, and a block of parmesan cheese, and I began to conceive of a meal that I became very excited about, indeed.

I sauteed the mushrooms in garlic, white wine, and  lemon juice, and finished them with just a dash of heavy cream, creating a mushroom-wine sauce that coated each strand of the al dente pasta, without overwhelming it.  A sprinkle of grated parmesan  added some sharp, creamy flavor, and the tender, meaty mushrooms stood up well with the pasta. A simple meal, nothing groundbreaking here, but also an exciting one for me, and that’s the most important thing when you’re cooking your way out of a slump.

Mushroom Fettuccine

I’m not going to provide exact ingredient amounts here, since so much of this recipe is suited to taste. Use this as inspiration to create your own pasta craving.

Serves 2, with leftovers

1/2 lb . shiitake, crimini, portobello, or other favorite mushrooms, sliced uniformly
fresh fettuccine pasta, either homemade (use my guide) or store-bought (enough for 2 people)
olive oil
2-3 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped
lemon, squeezed
a glass of dry white wine (or more, to taste)
grated parmesan cheese
dash of heavy cream
salt
black pepper

Cook pasta until al dente. Drain and set aside.

In a large frying pan, heat enough olive oil to coat the pan generously, on med-low. Add the garlic and saute in the oil until it is translucent, stirring occasionally. Lower the heat if the garlic starts browning too quickly. Add the mushrooms, stirring to evenly coat them in the oil and garlic mixture. If the mushrooms seem dry or are sticking, add a little more oil. Cook for a few minutes until they become a bit limp and flexible, then add lemon juice and wine. Simmer until the mushrooms are done to your preference, add a little water  or additional wine if the liquid cooks off too fast. Stir in the heavy cream right at the end, toss the pasta into the mixture, only long enough to heat up to desired temperature. Add salt, pepper, and parmesan cheese to taste. Serve immediately.

I’ve been away for a while, much longer than the week off that I’d planned on taking. I needed to take a break from the pace of the FCI kitchens and my internship, to travel up north for family time and to reunite with old friends, to cook without pausing to take notes or click the shutter, and to eat some amazing food at this seriously good, seriously charming neighborhood eatery, and this destination restaurant/shrine to local cuisine. We capped it all off by ringing in the New Year with champagne and Brian’s now famous paella, and then, before I knew it, I was right back in the thick of things and feeling very disorganized.

I try to take a realistic approach to making resolutions come January 1, avoiding things that I know are futile, like super-restrictive dieting, or resolving to stop compulsively biting my nails (been there, done that). Instead, I like to make lists comprised of a mix of goals and big moments yet to come in the year ahead. Today’s recipe for creamy, hearty breakfast quinoa parlays beautifully into two lists I’ve made this year: my personal list, and my EVK-specific list.

Personal List:

1. Eat (good, nutritious) breakfasts. Coffee alone does not count, neither do the little tasting bites of muffins, scones, quick breads, and biscuits that I (simply must) take while working on morning production at my internship.

2. Attend to household duties as they come up, to avoid last week’s no heat, broken dryer, tub that’s leaking into the neighbor’s apartment, shower handle coming off, thank you notes still not sent scenario. These things tend to spiral out of control.

3. Culinary school graduation date: July 13

4. Wedding date: August 29

5. Interview/trail date for internship at restaurant possessing more than one Michelin star (that will remain anonymous here): January 19

6. Work hard, be nice, etc.

Blog List:

1. More original recipes

2. Better photographs

3. More bread

4. Be less of a lone wolf in the blogging community

It’s going to be a very exciting year, and I’m looking forward to sharing it with EVK readers. Happy New Year!

Breakfast Quinoa

The cooks at the restaurant where I intern make a version of this for brunch, and they get bombarded with orders for it, especially on cold rainy or snowy days. I’ve never asked for the recipe, figuring that I could adapt my experience using quinoa in savory recipes for this sweeter, more moist breakfast version. I used what I had in the pantry to give the quinoa flavor and texture and I encourage you to do so too. There are a million variations for this recipe, which makes it a great base for eating day after day, with a variety of different additives.

Serves 2

The Base:

1/2 cup milk (1% to whole)
2/3 cup water
1/2 cup quinoa
tiny pinch of kosher salt

Optional add-ins (these are just examples) all to taste:

dried fruits: (raisins, cranberries, chopped apricots, cherries, figs)
nuts: chopped and toasted (almonds, walnuts, pecans, pine nuts)
fresh fruits of all kinds: stir in right before eating
dried, unsweetened coconut
drizzles: honey, maple syrup, agave nectar
spices: cinnamon, clove, or nutmeg
brown sugar

Rinse quinoa in cold water and drain thoroughly. Place the quinoa, water, milk, and small pinch of salt into a 1.5 – 2 qt. saucepan with a cover. Bring to a rolling boil, then lower the heat to med-low. Simmer for 15 minutes with the saucepan covered, then remove from heat and allow it to stand for 5 additional minutes (or until most, but not all of the liquid is absorbed and most of the quinoa is translucent in the center) with the cover still on.

Stir in add-ins of your choice to taste and serve immediately.

In case you missed the 24 hour news coverage, New York got a little bit of snow for the first time this year. At some point during yesterday’s shift at my pastry internship, the pastry chef, sous chef, and I poked out heads out of the bulkhead from the basement kitchen and watched with delight as the first flakes fell down onto the sidewalk above. I spent the rest of the shift fantasizing about an evening holed up at home in my PJs, drinking red wine and watching the storm from the comfort of my couch.

After a long week, it feels really nice to be forced to hit the pause button and seal yourself away inside to hibernate and wait out the storm. I used this time to try out this pretty recipe, since neither rain nor snow is going to keep Christmas from coming, and I’ve got sweet (chewy, coco-nutty, fruity) promises to keep.

These cookies may look a little complex, but I promise that after you shape the first one or two you’ll get the hang of the folding coordination, and the rest will be a cinch. The addition of cream cheese in the dough makes them a little fussy to work with, so be sure that you keep the dough squares cold whenever you are not working with them. The pinwheels will hold their fun, ninja star look best if you allow them to chill right up to baking.

I chose to sacrifice a little of the beauty for flavor by applying the coconut layer on top of the pinwheel, rather than tucked under the points in the center, as the original directions say to do. Indeed, they look a bit more sloppy on top with the coconut and jam piled high, but doing it this way allows the outer coconut to toast in the oven, a flavor that I find irresistible.

You can make a very colorful plate with just these cookies alone when you use several kinds of jam, but they also are a welcome addition to a collection of cookies, delighting those who love the combination of coconut and fruit on your cookie tray.

Coconut Cream Cheese Pinwheels
Adapted from Martha Stewart’s Cookies

For dough:

2 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cups sugar
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 stick unsalted butter
3 ounces cream cheese
1 large egg
1 tsp pure vanilla extract

For filling:

3 ounces cream cheese
3 Tblsp granulated sugar
1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
1/4 cup white chocolate chips

For finishing:

Egg wash (one egg + one yolk + pinch of salt)
Raw or sanding ugar for sprinkling
1/3 cup fruit jam

Whisk together flour, sugar and baking powder in a bowl. Cream butter and cream cheese on medium-high until fluffy and very light in color. Add egg and vanilla. Reduce mixer speed to low, then add flour mixture. Mix until just combined, taking care not to over-mix.

Divide the dough into half, then pat into disks. Wrap each disk in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours.

Mix cream cheese and sugar with electric mixer on medium speed until fluffy. Fold in coconut and white chocolate.

Remove dough from refrigerator. Roll out about 1/4 inch thick on lightly floured surface. This dough is very fragile and fussy. I found it most effective to make only a few at a time, returning the unused dough to the fridge each time to firm up. Cut dough into squares using square cookie cutter (preferably fluted cutter) or a knife. Place the squares on a parchment-lined baking sheet and chill for 20 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350˚F.

Cut four diagonal slits, one at each corner of the square, leaving a circle of dough in the center of the square with no cuts. Fold alternating points of these cuts into the middle of the square, forming a pinwheel. Place the shaped pinwheels on parchment -lined baking sheets. Spoon a small amount of the coconut filling on top of the center of the cookies and flatten it out with a spoon.

Lightly brush tops of pinwheels with egg wash. Sprinkle with sugar and bake for 6 minutes.Remove the trays from the oven and use the back of a spoon to create small wells in the coconut filling. Spoon a small amount of the jam into each well. Return to oven and bake for another 6 minutes until edges are golden and cookies are slightly puffed.

Transfer to wire racks to cool completely.

Can be stored in airtight containers at room temperature for up to 3 days.