Crisp for a Blueberry Girl

One of my favorite authors, Neil Gaiman, has written many stories– weird and whimsical, frightening, fantastical, and magical. I especially love the poem he wrote for the birth of Tori Amos’s daughter, Natasha, which was made into a book illustrated by Charles Vess.

Ladies of light and Ladies of darkness and Ladies of never-you-mind,

This is a prayer for a Blueberry girl.

First, may you ladies be kind.

It’s a beautiful poem, full of love and well wishes for a little girl and the woman she will become. It’s also a great gift for an expectant mom– I am not one, but I currently know a few!

When one of my close friends recently had a birthday, I started to think of what I could make for the occasion. Something told me that I should choose a dessert a little different than my usual “death by chocolate” approach. My friend is artistic and expressive, and I thought of the blueberry girl from Gaiman’s poem. And then it hit me like a bolt from the blue: a blueberry crisp.

Crisps, crumbles, slumps, grunts, bucklers, and cobblers (and probably several more that I’ve omitted) are all in the family of baked fruit desserts with some sort of topping. Maybe it’s biscuit dough, or oat-based, or (my favorite) large crumbs of buttery goodness. They’re simple and fairly quick to prepare, and you can use fresh, frozen, or even slightly past-prime fruit. I used a mixture of fresh blueberries and the last of the wild berries I had picked last summer and frozen for just such a day, stirred together with a little Meyer lemon juice and zest. The sweet tartness of the lemon complemented the juicy berries perfectly, and the topping-to-berry ratio was just right for a dessert that was satisfying without feeling too heavy.

Blueberry and Meyer lemon crisp

After the comforting taste, one of the nicest things about a crisp is that you can assemble the fruit directly in the baking dish. Mix the topping separately, cover the berries well, slide the whole thing into the oven, and in about half an hour you’re rewarded with the most mouthwatering aroma. It’ll perfume your home for at least a day after baking.

Fruit filling:

4 cups fresh or frozen blueberries
Juice and zest of one Meyer lemon

Topping: (Adapted from Nigella Lawson)

1 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
6 Tb brown sugar or raw sugar
1 stick unsalted butter, melted, or the equivalent raw food-quality coconut oil

Preheat your oven to 375°F. Grease a shallow 1 1/2-quart baking dish. Rinse the blueberries, if using fresh, and pat dry. Spread the berries evenly over the bottom of the baking dish and combine with the lemon juice and zest.

In a separate bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder, and sugar. Pour the melted butter or coconut oil over the mixture, then blend with a fork or pastry blender until large clumps form. Bake until the crisp is golden and the berries are bubbling up from under the topping, about 30 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack to cool slightly– it’s best served warm!
Listen to Neil Gaiman read Blueberry Girl as you enjoy a piece!
JWsMadeWLuvMondays

One pie to rule them all

All stressing aside, I really do love the holiday season. I’ve heard people say that you’re either a baker or a cook; I like to think that I’m both, but I certainly enjoy making baked goods for parties or as presents.

As I’m a vegetarian, Thanksgiving is not really about turkey for me. Instead, I fill my plate with a variety of delicious and healthy family specialties: wild rice with mushrooms, green beans, fresh cranberry salsa, and baked sweet potatoes.

My one and only culinary responsibility is The Pie, and I take that very seriously. I have been making a version of this pie (it evolves slightly from year to year) ever since I was 12 and starting to become more comfortable in the kitchen. I asked my mother if I could make something by myself that year; she gave me a copy of the Bon Appetit Thanksgiving issue and told me to call her if I needed any help. The recipe I found was the “Colonial Times Apple-Cranberry Pie With Cornmeal Crust,” a celebration of mingled New World (corn, cranberry) and Old World (apple) ingredients. I liked the idea of cranberries and apples, but wasn’t so keen on cornmeal, so I substituted an all-butter crust recipe from one of my mom’s hand-written index cards and used apple cider instead of cold water. The experiment was a success: at the end of the night, as I was carrying the empty pie plate out the door, my aunt said, “You’ll make that again next year, right?”

Here’s the latest model:

At some point, I want to go back and find pictures of each year’s pie and post a comparison series. I started out with a full top crust. A few years ago, I started using leaf-shaped cookie cutters to cut out the dough and scattering those pieces decoratively over the top. I like how the slices of apple, currants, and bits of cranberry peek through the crust.

Here’s what I’ve learned over the years:

Butter is better

There are several schools of thought as far as pie crusts go. There’s the shortening school, the shortening + butter school, and the lard school. I tried shortening, but it has about as much flavor as paste. Maybe less. Lard is out for a number of reasons. And that leaves us with butter, which is never just a consolation prize. There’s a reason so many chefs cook with butter. It’s full of flavor and makes a tender, flaky crust just as easily as shortening.

Don’t overdo it

As in, don’t overwork your dough. The more you mix and blend, the less likely it is to stand up to your filling. Less work = more successful crust.

Variety is the spice of life

When I make this pie, it never turns out the same way twice. Different apples, slightly different mixture of seasonings, a new ratio of dry to wet ingredients in the pie dough. It doesn’t need to be identical each time: just delicious.

Cranberry-Apple Pie

Adapted from Bon Appetit

Crust adapted from Smitten Kitchen

Crust

2 1/2 c. flour
1 Tb sugar
1 tsp salt
2 sticks unsalted butter, very cold
1 c. apple cider

In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Cut the butter into small pieces and work into the dry ingredients with a pastry blender. When the butter pieces are the size of small peas, stop blending. Add cider, a few tablespoons at a time, using a rubber spatula or your hands to gather the dough together. Stop after 1/2 cup and stir well; after that, add cider only a tablespoon at a time. Add a little flour if the dough gets overly wet.

Cut the dough in half, wrap each piece in plastic wrap, and refrigerate overnight or at least an hour. The dough can stay wrapped and refrigerated for about a week.

While the dough is chilling, move on to the filling (hey, that rhymes!):

Filling

1 c. fresh cranberries
1 c. plus 2 tablespoons sugar
3 lbs. assorted apples (I like to use as many varieties as possible: this year’s pie had Mutsu, Empire, Rome, Gala, Fuji, Winesap, Braeburn, and Jonagold)
1/2 c. dried currants
liqueur (cranberry or a good bourbon)
5 Tb all-purpose flour
optional: zest of one orange; fresh ginger juice

In the oven, position rack in the lowest third; preheat to 375°F. Place the currants in a small bowl and add just enough liqueur to cover. Chop cranberries with sugar, using a mezzaluna or food processor. Peel and core the apples, and cut into 1/2-inch thick slices. Combine apples, cranberry/sugar mixture, currants, and flour. (If using, zest orange into bowl; peel an inch-long piece of ginger root and press through a clean garlic press to get the juice.) Toss well.

Roll out 1 of the pieces of dough between waxed paper or plastic wrap to 13-inch round. Gently peel off paper or wrap; fold edges in carefully to transfer into 9 1/2″deep-dish pie dish. I’ve found this is the easiest way to transfer the bottom crust into the pie dish in one piece.

Unfold the dough; roll excess in to form a double-thick edge. Crimp edge. Roll out the remaining dough disk on a lightly floured surface to 1/8″ thick. Using a cookie cutter, cut out leaves, apples, or any other shapes you might like. If using leaves,  mark veins with a sharp knife. Add filling to pie dish. Arrange leaves around the edges and top of pie, overlapping in places. Do not cover completely: leave gaps. Brush leaf cutouts and crimped edge with cider.

Place the pie on a baking sheet. Bake for 45 minutes, then cover with foil and continue baking for about 35 minutes more, until juices bubble thickly and crust is golden-brown. Transfer pie to rack and cool for 1 hour. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Bon appetit! Or as we say around these parts: OM NOM.

Happy new year!

Today is the first day of the new year in the Jewish calendar (5772, to be precise). There’s an advantage to having two new years to celebrate– it means I have two chances to evaluate my progress, come up with new goals, and get a fresh start.

Another nice thing about the new year is all the amazing food my family makes! Dishes with apples and honey are traditional, of course, but my favorite treat is mandelbrot. Mandelbrot means “almond bread,” but it’s actually a cookie similar to biscotti. Biscotti means “twice baked,” and that’s how the mandelbrot are made. They’re baked once in a loaf shape, sliced, and then put back in the oven to get nice and toasted.

My family’s recipe comes not from our aunt or grandmother but my parents’ friend Jim. He and his wife, Ruth, have been family friends for years, and Ruth and my mother are in a Mah-Jong league together. It doesn’t get any more authentic than that.

For a sweet new year

Jim’s Mandelbrot

3 c. flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 c. + 1 Tb oil
1 c. sugar
3 eggs
1 c. slivered almonds (chop some fine)
8 oz. chocolate chips

5 Tb. sugar
2 tsp. cinnamon

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F; grease 2 baking sheets.

Mix the flour, baking powder, and salt together.

Beat oil, sugar, and eggs in a large bowl. Gradually add 2 cups of the flour mixture, beating constantly.

Fold in almonds and chocolate chips, then add remaining flour. Mix well by hand. Do not overmix dough.

Lightly flour your hands, then divide the dough in quarters and transfer to the baking sheets. Shape into flattish loaves about 3″ wide and 3/4″ high.

Combine the remaining sugar with the cinnamon and sprinkle over each loaf, reserving half the mixture.

Bake for 20 minutes; remove from the oven and cut each loaf into 1/2″ slices. Turn slices cut side up, sprinkle with the remaining cinnamon sugar, then bake until toasted and golden, about 15 minutes. Cool to room temperature, then store in an airtight container.

I always love visiting my family for the holidays, when we can spend time together and cook and bake up a storm. In fact, those are my resolutions for the new year– spend time with the people who matter to me most and cook plenty of fabulous food!

Happy new year!

Food for Thought

I’ve made a few posts about my martial arts training, which starts to cover the “tough” part of this blog. What about the cookie?

Cooking, baking, and the pursuit of wonderful food have always been a part of my life. I grew up in the wilds of Westchester county, NY, following my grandmother over the river and through the woods in hot pursuit of chanterelles, morels, and oyster mushrooms. I learned to bake challah before I could write in script. My family views cooking as a competitive, full-contact sport—one where everyone wins. Family get-togethers mean family meals, and so food has taken on an extra dimension of emotion for me. When I’m stressed, I bake bread. When I want to celebrate, I create elaborate cakes and cupcakes. It’s no coincidence that my second date with the Husband Elect was disguised as a cooking lesson; he took me out for sushi for our first date and refused to let me pay, so I returned the favor by cooking him dinner and teaching him some of my favorite dishes.

Food can be nourishing, comforting, healing, and an expression of love. When I sat down to think about the first recipe I wanted to share here, I knew it had to be something simple, yet significant.

I couldn’t think of any better way to kick off the food content of this blog than the first recipe I ever memorized or adapted: Maida Heatter’s All American Brownies. This may not be the most intuitive choice for a health and fitness blog, but I believe that there is absolutely room in a healthy lifestyle for delicious, decadent brownies.

When I was 7 or so, I was obsessed with Heatter’s Book of Great Chocolate Desserts. My parents encouraged my culinary experimentation, and so my mother’s copy of Desserts was festooned with tiny sticky fingerprints. Other girls pretended to be Punkie Brewster or Jem; I would tie an apron around my waist and carefully star recipes in pencil. (Sometimes I was Baker Jem, a pink-haired glam-rock chef who made cookies and cakes shaped like stars and music notes.) But no matter how many recipes my mom and I made, I kept coming back to the All-American Brownies.

Now, I like soft, gooey, fudgy brownies. If you prefer yours on the cakier side, add an extra 1/4 cup of flour and bake for another 5-8 minutes.

Try not to drool

Try not to drool on your keyboard!

Fudgy Brownies

Adapted from Maida Heatter’s Book of Great Chocolate Desserts

1 stick + 2 Tb unsalted butter
6 Tb unsweetened cocoa
1 c. granulated sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 eggs
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
Pinch of salt
Secret ingredient: 1/4 tsp. cinnamon

Place oven rack 1/3 up from the bottom; pre-heat oven to 350 degrees F.

Prepare an 8″ square cake pan by lining the inside with a piece of foil. (It will be easier if you flip the pan upside down and shape the foil over the outside first.)

Place the butter and cocoa in a heavy saucepan over low heat. Stir occasionally, until the mixture is completely melted and smooth. Set aside to cool for about 3 minutes.

Stir in sugar and vanilla.

Add eggs one at a time, stirring until smooth after each addition.

Add flour, salt, and cinnamon, mixing until smooth.

Pour batter into pan and use a spatula to smooth the surface and coax batter into the corners of the pan.

Bake for 18-20 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the cake’s center comes out barely clean. Don’t worry if it’s a bit sticky– the brownies will continue to bake a little out of the oven.

After removing the pan from oven, allow it to cool to room temperature. (I sometimes have trouble with this step, preferring to excavate the warm brownies if I don’t need them to look super-neat.) Then you can use the edges of the foil to lift the brownies right out of the pan, or you can place a rack or plate on top, invert the pan, lift it off, and remove the foil. Then use another rack or plate to flip the brownies right-side up.

Place brownie sheet on a cutting board and cut into 16 even pieces with a sharp knife. If the brownies aren’t cutting easily, chill in the fridge.

Wrap or cover any leftover brownies so that they don’t dry out. They can be frozen, or in theory should keep for a week in the fridge, but I’ve never had them last long enough to test that theory.

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