Sass & Veracity

Chocolate Almond Gateau with Almond Praline Buttah-cream

I do have to say that this month's Daring Baker's Challenge was officially the most involved dessert I have ever made.  Okay, so I don't actually keep a tally, but jeez.  And have I actually seen the inside, or tasted it yet?
 

Um, no.

I mentally line up donation options when I complete these challenges so I'm not stuck with all those calories straining to attach themselves to my rear end which is large enough, thank you very much.  Since school's out for the summer and I can't drop it off there, and my mother swears that she can't leave things in the clubhouse of her complex for residents to sample, I donated it ahead of time to my good friend's dinner party. 

When I meet her in the morning at 5:30 for our walk (yawn...), I'll pick up the remnants, listen to her critique, finally get to see the inside, and taste it myself. 

I've made some pretty involved desserts, but goodness.  I knew it was going to be a hum-dinger since I'd just made that Cassata,  but I was determined (since I yet again put this off until the last possible second...) to efficiently work through the entire cake in record time.  Well, record time for me, anyway, because that's always a challenge.  I simply l-a-n-g-u-i-s-h in my kitchen.  I probably would have done it, too, if my Mac hadn't been on the counter.  It is such a distraction.

I will say I must have been concentrating fairly hard, because at some point around noon, I received a few emails, and some Twitter inquires about an earthquake.  Earthquake?  Really?  Sure enough.  After checking USGS, I could see that there had been an earthquake near LA.  I also saw in a news report that it was felt as far south as San Diego.  Huh?

So I emailed my hunkster, and he responded saying that their building had swayed quite a bit, and that he checked USGS minutes later and they had already documented the quake.  He works maybe five miles from our house, and my son and I felt nothing.  Go. figure.

I guess that means my Almond Gateau with Praline Buttercream is quite THE cake.

But wait!  There's more.

I didn't have to make one single trip to the store for this challenge.  Not one.  Well, let me qualify that.  I sort of half-assed and semi-casually scanned the nut aisle at Trader Joe's a week ago knowing that I'd need hazelnuts for this challenge, and didn't see them.  There's no way my regular market has them -- EVER --  and I wasn't in the mood to take on Whole Foods and the inevitable basket full of luscious food I'd have to pay for if I ventured there for hazelnuts.  And I just so happened to have not one, but TWO packages of almond meal in my obsessive-compulsively hoarded stockpile of culinary accoutrements well-stocked cupboard just screaming for attention on this cake.   

And there you have it.  For the Daring Baker's July Challenge recipe, please visit the Hostess with the Mostest, Chris of Mele Cotte.  There you will find that the original recipe from Great Cakes by Carol Walter included hazelnuts and not almonds.

So about those interminable steps for this cake:

The Genoise:  I have never made a genoise like this.  When I saw clarified buttah, I thought, jeez.  And if I wasn't careful I'd have a brown buttah genoise on my hands.  Trust me that I would have used it, too.  It was definitely odd adding that butter to the egg-nutmeal mixture and after pouring it into the cakepan, finding that there was a pool of butter at the bottom of the pan that I wasn't supposed to include.  Sure the directions mentioned that little tidbit of information, but it looked like none of the butter actually mixed into the batter based on the lake-sized pool I saw rippling on the bottom of the bowl.

Interesting.  But the cake rose beautifully.  I'm still wondering what the clarified butter was all about.

The Apricot Glaze:  This would be the step I forgot.  Sure I read the recipe 18 times.  I even had my little jar of peach preserves (no apricot in my cupboard...) sitting on the counter just waiting to be used.  It just didn't happen.  My after-the-fact thinking (big fat excuse...) is that since there would be syrup in every nook and cranny on this cake, the glaze wouldn't be missed.  Right.  I should have realized that making the glaze was first up after the cake came out of the oven. But no.  My brain farted on this one. Loudly.

Sugar Syrup:  Why oh why do they always ask you to make so much, and why do I fall for it every single time?  In fact, why did I not save the syrup I made for the Cassata last week?  And why, I think as I'm pouring it down the drain, do I not check to see how long I can save the left-overs?  You know, in case I want to hop out of bed next month and make another cake that needs a sugar syrup soaker.  I could have parked it next to my 12 bags of frozen egg whites and 2 bags of anchovies.  For later.

Swiss Buttercream:  Okay, so I think I can say that each time I've made buttercream, it's been made a different way.  Who knew there could be so many different ways to make the same thing.  Really.  The nice thing about this recipe is that you get to whip the whites in the mixer a bit before you have to use a whisk over the simmering water.  Those of us who like to whine about our wrists thank the recipe gods for this bit of good fortune because we actually had the wherewithall to hold the camera in one hand while whipping with the other.  Yes.    

Praline Paste:  This took the most time to do.  Hands down.  I should have kept track, but I didn't.  I was cruising until I got to this part.  When I melt sugar, I normally use a small saucepan.  This recipe called for a 10-inch skillet.  Hmmmm....I was worried about all that surface area, but Hey!  Sure enough.  It took a month of Sundays to melt that sugar.  ARG!  I swirled and moved the pan over the low-low heat to keep the progress going.  It took an amazing amount of time.  And keeping with the almond theme, I used blanched almond slivers (yes, I had them...) and it was nearly impossible to mix them up in the melted sugar.  But it finally began to bubble, and I was able to dump the lump pour the praline on a pan to cool.  To make the paste, the processor must have run at least 8-10 minutes.  Seriously.  But in the end, I was rewarded with a shiny looking lump of something remotely resembling hard peanut butter.

Ironically, it wasn't difficult to mix a bit of the Swiss Buttercream into the lump before throwing the whole mess into the bowl to get an interesting looking frosting.  Sort of brown.  With specks.  And surprisingly fluffy.

Whipped Cream:  I decided what the hell and added 2 oz. of softened cream cheese and 1 tsp. of sugar to the whipped cream.  You know.  To give it some substance.

Booze:  Whenever rum, or cointreau, or Gran Mariner, or anything else with alcohol in it was called for in this recipe (and it was seriously called for...) I used Cointreau.  I did leave the extra dose called for in the buttahcream out, though.  At some point, isn't it just overkill?  Just wondering.

Ganache Glaze:  Oh man.  This was a bit different than I remembered, too.  It was more...wet.  It was thick enough.  It spread nicely.  It oozed down the sides just fine.  But it never really dried.  Even after it had been in the fridge.  It was set, but not quite like I thought it might.  And I could see tiny lumps here and there after it had settled.  Picky picky.  The taste was lovely.  Mmmm...chocolate and orange is always nice.

Decorations:  I had to do the white chocolate leaves.  Had to.  It has been so long since I've taken the time to do any kind of decoration, I kind of got carried away.  And the almonds?  Clearly, we like almonds here, because I have all kinds of them around.  Yes, the decoration looks like a poinsettia.  No, that wasn't the idea. In fact, the plan was to make dark chocolate leaves for the entire top, but my chocolate didn't cooperate, so that's why I ended up with white.  And you can't exactly move things around on that ganache which is a complete drag.

When I get the left overs of my cake back (because my friend doesn't want it in her house, either...), I'll let you know what I think of the taste and try to get a photo of a slice.  You'll come back, right?

When pigs fly.  ;)

Addendum:  Okay, so I walked my 3 miles this morning and have retrieved my cake.  The consensus last night at her party was that the cake is surprisingly not too sweet, half the cake was eaten, but they didn't ask for more."    And now that I've tasted it, I'll agree.  I just had a piece for breakfast and I'm loving that I can taste those tiny pieces of almonds.  The praline isn't as strong as I thought it might be -- a good thing -- and the buttercream a pleasant, creamy compliment to the genoise.  Very, very nice.  But no, I don't want another piece right now, either.  I'm quite satisfied.

Don't forget to check out the other 8 trillion Daring Bakers and their Nutty Cakes.  You'll be amazed.

Peachiest Peach Ice Cream with Attitude

I know there's been quite the brouhaha recently over food bloggers' use of recipes found here and there in the creation of their own recipes, and the credit given to those sources when they post their results.  And I know it's old news now, but it's been bothering me for many reasons that are either directly related, or no where near being on topic somewhat related because of threads of discussion I've been caught up in since it all happened. I normally use my non-food blog to voice my opinions to spare the foodie world of my snarky attitude, but since this issue is food related, I decided to just let it rip.  Not sure about what I'm referring to?  Just Google Melissa & Cook's Illustrated and you'll have your choice of where to begin.  Or, hop on over to Serious Eats, grab a seven course dinner and hunker down for the macro hair-splitting session over this issue continuting there.

Yes, there's a recipe today, too, but it won't be cheese-based to go with my rant whine...

Indulge me, please.

When I cook, it is most often because I've seen a recipe somewhere. What a concept.  Or, my fridge is so stuffed with food we must eat or it becomes yet another science experiment on a list of others I've already perfected over the years of having eyeballs bigger than my stomach.  Or something like that.  I cook about six days a week with the seventh being take-out, or dinner somewhere nearby, and no, not necessarily on Sunday. Heh.  Sure we have tacos the way my family has made them for decades, and once in a while throw some pasta on the stove with sauce that comes from a jar -- good sauce.  But not very often.  And rarely do I decide to make something just by experimenting, that is unless you count the fact that I almost never follow any recipe exactly the way it was written as experimenting.  But who's going to split that hair? 

No, wait!  I nearly forgot that everyone is splitting that hair right now.  Okay, well, maybe not everyone, but still.

Now, why would I go out of my way to choose a recipe and then not follow it?  Um, why not?  My mother would say it's because I'm just plain ornery, but she's contrary by nature, so that doesn't count.  I, on the other hand, actually know that it's because it's hard not practice what has been learned from years and years of cooking. Let's face it.  Recipes aren't all that different. Well, unless you're planning on whipping up Thomas Keller's Bellwether Farm Baby Lamb -- Five Cuts Served with Provencal Vegetables, Braised Cipollini Onions, and Thyme Oil.  Like that would happen here.  Well, maybe.  You never know.  Just not today.

For the most part, the recipe is only the inspiration (some more than others), unless I'm baking. Then I'm far more attentive. And of course, I have to alter recipes because I'm lacking a particular ingredient -- or five!-- which is challenging for me to fathom considering the number of times I find myself in grocery stores each week.

Anyway, because of my particular cooking habits, I always credit my sources. Always. Even when I've altered a recipe beyond all recognition, I feel that I would not have ended up with what I cooked had I not seen the original recipe.  And because I most often use magazine recipes or recipes available on their affiliated websites, then it's an easy link, so why not?  I suppose that there's the outside chance that someone could email me and say, "We don't want to be connected to you," but pigs would fly first.  Besides, my food is good.  Period.  Okay, so most of the time.

Let's use an ice cream recipe as an platform for my nonsense today.  Or, if you're so inclined, let's not, and say we did.  

Call this the evolution of MY Peach Ice Cream Recipe...with "my" being very subjective.

Step One:  I was visiting foodblogs about a week ago because a group of us had just posted our Cassatas, and I stopped by Ivonne's of Cream Puffs in Venice to check hers out.  I found that she had posted an absolutely beautiful peach and almond tart  that made me realilze I hadn't had peaches or nectarines once this season yet.  The horror of it all!  So on my grocery list they went (yes, I actually have a list even though this is difficult to imagine...) and I planned to actually make Ivonne's tart.  Really.  I did.  Peach cobbler is a family favorite and although Ivonne's tart isn't a cobbler, I was craving warm peaches with a crust and some cream.  Oh.  My.

Step Two:  Days went by while I was baking and cooking other recipes because that's all I do.  Ever.  I play with food.  The peaches I ended up purchasing were nearly used to make Fresh Peach and Ginger-Cream Shortcakes in the August 2008 issue of Bon Appetit to take to a family get together, but because I gave my hunkster a choice, he went with the Chocolate S'mores Cake in the August 2008 issue of Food & Wine.  I haven't posted that yet, since I'm working on my own rendition and have plans to compare in a future post in which I will document my sources up one side and down the other of my speck in the Bloggosphere, but only if my photos turn out.  You just never know.

Step Three:  The poor peaches were beginning to look a bit tired in their unused state, and so I became desperate for something to create.  It's summer, and everyone's complaining about the heat everywhere (but here), and so I decided ice cream would be the way to go.  No oven.  I also had some yogurt, ricotta, and mascarpone in the fridge, so included those ingredients in my search for an ice cream recipe because I could love me some ice cream with any or all of those luscious ingredients.

Step Four:  I happened onto "No-Cook Peach Ice Cream" at My Recipes which ironically credits the recipe to Southern Living and I wondered if there's an affiliation.  The recipe called for the use of canned condensed milk, and I wasn't too thrilled with that idea since my cat would hate my guts if I used her milk and she's grouchy enough as it is over the organic flea spray I've been using on her.  It also called for only a small amount of sugar which is always nice, and canned peach nectar which sounded very interesting.  I bookmarked it because not having to turn on a burner is always a nice option, right?

Step Five:  Then I found a Banana Peach Frozen Yogurt recipe at CD Kitchen which I thought I could adjust since I didn't have bananas, but noticed that there was no sugar added (the bananas were providing the sweetness) and that I'd have to play around with sugar amounts. No thanks. And I didn't bookmark it because I already have some great frozen yogurt recipes. 

Step Six:  Then I found a Peach Ice Cream recipe at epicurious that looked simple until I noticed it was connected to another recipe and I didn't want to have to surf back and forth between the two since my printer wasn't hooked up.  I did notice that this recipe called for leaving the peelings on the peaches.  Um, yum? 

Step Seven:  What a lovely surprise to  come across Helen's recipe for Georgia Peach Ice Cream at Tartelette while I was searching.  I almost stopped right there, because how could I go wrong?  Helen + Peaches + Ice Cream?  I rest my case.  I did notice that Helen decided to puree some of the peaches and leave the rest in chunk form.  Nice.

Step Eight:  Then I saw a recipe for Brown Sugar Peach Ice Cream in the side bar back at CD Kitchen, and oh my goodness.  How could I not want to try that?  I had all the ingredients, sort of.  I had six peaches instead of the four called for, and not quite as much brown sugar, but did have some turbinado.  I had an orange instead of a lemon for the citrus...and a lot of heavy cream.  I was ready to go.

Kelly's Peach Ice Cream

6 large peaches which have been forgotten for days, unpeeled, seeded, and chopped in 1/2-inch chunks
1/2 c. turbinado
3/4 c. cup brown sugar, firmly packed
juice of 1/2 fresh orange
1-1/2 c. whole milk
3  eggs, beaten
1-1/2 c. heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla

Put chopped peaches into a large bowl and add 1/2 cup turbinado and orange juice to macerate.  Cover with plastic wrap and set in the fridge.

In a medium saucepan combine the milk, eggs, and brown sugar. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon, about 15 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in the heavy cream and vanilla. Pour into a bowl (metal,if possible) through a fine meshed strainer. Chill by either setting in an ice bath, or the fridge, stirring occasionally. Chill completely.

When chilled, place 1/2 of the peaches and their juice in a blender and puree.  Pour puree into the chilled custard, then add the remaining chunks of peaches and mix well. 

Pour 1/2 of the peach mixture into a 1-1/2 qt. bowl of an ice cream maker and process according to manufacturer's directions. Return the remaining peach mixture to the fridge.  When the first batch is done, scrape it into a 3 qt. covered freezer container and place in the freezer until the second batch is finished.  Combine batches.



Notes:

• Credit to my brain and its innate ability to synthesize myriad sources of information, supported by  years of schema related to all things culinary, and to further the interpretation you now see in the recipe above. You know.  In case you actually needed a technical explanation.
• You are welcome to use my rendition of peach ice cream (one of about a trillion available )and in no way need to mention my name, my blog, or make a reference such as, "the original recipe can be found here" even though the link is cool because maybe somebody will click on it, and it's nice having visitors and people who just may want to try my recipe if they don't like your version.  I'm just sayin'.
• If you really want to get down and dirty about plagiarism and copyright issues, try teaching Junior High English.  I can go the distance.  Here.  Let me roll up my sleeves and make a muscle.  You know.  Just for effect.
• On the ice cream:  I have two 1-1/2 qt. bowls for my ice cream maker.  So many ice cream recipes make more than 1-1/2 qts. so two come in handy -- especially if you want more than one serving of ice cream for everyone over a few days.
• The peach peelings in this are AWESOME and beautiful, so thanks, epicurious!
• The brown sugar added a nice consistency to the custard base which we're still enjoying, so thanks, CD Kitchen!  I'm now wondering how much better it would have been to have used all brown sugar.
• The chunks of peach mixed in with the pureed peaches was also a nice touch, so thanks, Helen.  I will be looking at yours next since you have less heavy cream in your recipe than the one I used.
• And thanks, Ivonne.  If I hadn't seen your Peach Tart, I wouldn't have ended up with Peach Ice Cream.
• I should also, at this point, thank Al Gore for inventing teh intranets, too.
• And I suppose I should also thank all those who have inspired me for continuing to discuss whether food bloggers, in the sharing of recipes, are the bottom-dwelling, mud sucking low lifers that some make us out to be.
• If you'd like to prevent further snark-ridden posts such as this one (even though it has been quite refreshing), please refer to my alter ego here.  Some days are better than others, but it's free, yanno?
• And to all of you who just scrolled through the peach flavored food porn, thank you and never mind.  I'll put my soap box away now.
• But seriously.  Try the peach ice cream.  It is so delicious and peachy, with a hint of tartness thrown in, and a sweetness that isn't cloying.  Very refreshing!

Home Alone with Baked Ricotta, Olives, & California Rose

It's been a while since my husband and I have been home alone.  My mother stayed with us for six weeks after returning from her supposed to be permanent move to Virginia, and while we were on vacation, two of my sons traveled with us.  But my mother has found a place to live of her own, my older son is back at his place, and our teenager is visiting a cousin.  That means we have the entire house to ourselves.

Ahhh...

After my husband gets home from work, we've decided to either walk or swim some laps on alternate days.  Sounds more interesting than it actually is when you consider that the laps last about 10 minutes before tongues are lolling from our mouths in exhaustion.  Good thing there's no one around to witness our inability to stick it out for a solid 30 minutes.  But to our credit, last night, we did work for 20 minutes, then feeling sorry for my husband, I decided we were done and walked the short distance to our house, dripping like drowned rats.  Dinner afterward is something light.  Well, lighter than normal, which means there are only two items on the plate instead of three. 

Keeping with the "home alone" mood of things, I decided that an appetizer of sorts and something refreshing to sip on a pleasant summer evening after a dip helps make life seem a bit more glamorous.  Well, except for the part where we flopped on the couch and watched Harry Wilson's War on a pay channel while we enjoyed our food.

But the food was excellent, and it just so happens that our light repast qualifies us for Blog Party #36:  Blogger's Choice hosted by Stephanie, the Happy Sorceress of Dispensing Happiness, who is celebrating the third anniversary of Blog Party.  Three years is quite the accomplishment in the bloggosphere, if you ask me, so congrats, Stephanie!

Baked Ricotta with Herbed Olives and California Rose is my choice for a special get together when excellent flavor and little prep is required.  You can make it ahead, too, which means it's even better.  To make it more than an appetizer that two can share, add a salad, and you'll be satisfied.

Baked Ricotta
makes two servings

1 c. whole milk ricotta
2 lg. eggs, separated
1 tsp. dried thyme, or 2 tsp. fresh
zest of 1 lemon
1/3 c. finely grated Parano cheese
pepper & salt to taste

Heat oven to 350 degrees F and spray two 8 oz. ramekins with oil.

In a medium sized bowl, combine ricotta, egg yolks, lemon zest, thyme, grated Parano, and seasoning.  In a separate bowl, whip egg whites just until soft peaks form.  Fold the egg whites into the cheese mixture carefully, making sure not to deflate the whites.  Divide between the two ramekins and place on a baking sheet, then bake for 25 minutes or until golden brown on the top.  Let cool and either enjoy warm, or let sit at room temperature to enjoy later.

Sauteed Herbed Olives
serves two with left overs for snacking later -- yum!

1-1/2 c. mixed olives (kalamatas, Mt. Pelion, Mt. Athos, Nafplion, or your favorites)
1/8 c. extra virgin olive oil
2 garlic cloves, chopped
2 pieces orange peel, trimmed and cut into several thin strips
4 sprigs fresh thyme
2 T fresh parsley, coarsely chopped
Sprinkle of dried red pepper flakes

Heat the oil in a skillet and add the garlic, stirring for 1 minute.  Add the olives and orange peel, stirring until well heated and aromatic.  Stir in the thyme and parsley and turn off the heat to let sit and cool in the skillet.  Cover until ready to serve.

Serve baked ricotta on a large plate and pour olives and seasoned oil over.  Enjoy with a crusty bread toasted with olive oil and garlic.

Pour a well-chilled California Rose and enjoy your evening.

Notes:  Before vacation, I made an appetizer of olives similar to this that I shared with friends on a lovely Friday evening.  For the life of me, I can't find the recipe, but after a Google search for olives & thyme, I did find a recipe at Gourmet Girl which led me to the Baked Ricotta, which is excellent.  I'd had baked feta and goat cheese before, but not ricotta, and we both loved the dish with the olives which were already a favorite.

I made all except the toast before we went for our swim, and it was great to enjoy with no fuss or the usual dinner mess. The olives are excellent with the ricotta.  Don't forget to drizzle the oil over all.

This particular Rose by Menage a Trois from the Folie a Deux Winery is less dry than what I'm used to.  And for those of you who aren't quite sure about a Rose, no, it's not White Zinfandel, and no, it isn't sweet.  This rose is  light, fruity with a pronounced citrus, and is pleasant to sip.  It's crisp and just barely dry.  Was it the best wine to serve with this baked ricotta and olives?  I loved it, but I'm only someone who experiments.  I know I enjoyed my meal, so that works for me!

I Say Cassata, You say...

I'm sitting here eating cake.  It's 10:45 am, I slept decadently until a quarter past nine, and no one is here but me and my cake.  And it's not just any cake.

It's Cassata.

I know.  I never heard of it before last week, either, but when you are in the company of the baking-obsessed and whimsical group of lovely food bloggers that I often find myself...well.  You make cassata.  And yes, it's lovely for breakfast with a side of caffeine while your dog stares at your empty plate just waiting for an invite, and your cat squalls at you just because she can.

Here's how this happens.  Amongst the myriad emails that fly back and forth between the people in this group, someone mentions a recipe.  Links are forwarded, photos emerge, then others start throwing their suggestions in the hat.  Each one seems better than the last, of course, and when a selection is made, then we know we'll all have our Skype ready to go on a particular day and time.  Yep.  The Bakenistas stuck again this past weekend.  And at my house, that means my Mac was hefted down to sit in the maelstrom that is my kitchen when I bake.

The only problem with this particular session is that the night before, I made a last minute S'mores cake to take to a family get together and didn't clean the kitchen.  It was one of those, "We went to Italy and all we brought back was 750 photos that we'll now share with you" type of evenings.  And since the Bakenista session was scheduled for 7am my time the next day, it meant that I'd have to start baking with a:  1)  full dishwasher that needed emptying; 2) two sinks full of dishes; 3)  a counter still sporting ingredients I'd need for the cassata; and...wait.  I'll show you.  And at this point, I'd already begun to clean somewhat.  What a pig.

But I digress...I slept until past 8am, so by the time I lugged my Mac to its appointed spot, the bake chat was in full swing, and there's absolutely no way you can start from the beginning to see what you missed while you were getting your beauty rest.

It was fun, just like it always is, but it was involved, and as soon as my cassata was in the fridge cooling, I had to start dinner -- yes, these bake fests take most of the day.  But in a very clean kitchen, I was able to put dinner on the table...erm our laps.  Television on a soft sofa was a definite requirement after this day.

Cassata alia Siciliana
my version...

For the Sponge Cakes
2 c. bleached cake flour, sifted
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp kosher salt, plus a pinch
8 lg. eggs, separated
1-1/2 c. granulated sugar
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2  c. unsalted butter, melted and cooled

For the Syrup
2 c. granulated sugar
3/4 c. cold water
1/2 c. Marsala FINE

For the Filling
3 oz. bittersweet chocolate, finely grated
3/4 c. chopped almonds
3 c. fresh, whole milk ricotta
1 c. confectioner's sugar, sifted
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
Freshly grated zest of 2 medium oranges

For the Icing
1-1/2 c. heavy cream
1 tsp. gelatin dissolved in 2 tbsp water
1 c. confectioner's sugar
1/8 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
8 oz. cream cheese at room temp

For the Candied Orange Peels
Skin from two large oranges
Left over Marsala Syrup
Granulated sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and position a rack in the center.  Lightly grease two 8" round cake pans with cooking spray, then line the bottom with parchment and spray again.

For the sponge cakes, sift together flour, baking powder and salt, then set aside.  In the bowl of your mixer, whisk together egg yolks and sugar on medium speed until very light and pale yellow in color.  In about 3 minutes, it will double in volume.  Beat in the vanilla extract, then slowly pour in the melted, cooled butter.  Pour the mixture into a large mixing bowl and fold in the reserved dry ingredients using a rubber spatula until just mixed.  It will be very thick and somewhat sticky.  Do not over mix.

Clean the bowl of your mixer and the whisk to remove all egg yolks, then add the egg whites and pinch of salt, beating on medium high speed until soft peaks are formed.  Add about 1/4 of the egg whites to the reserved batter and stir to lighten, then add the rest, folding to incorporate, and lighten the thickness of the batter. Make sure no pockets of dry ingredients remain.

Evenly divide the batter between the prepared pans, smoothing the tops with a spatula.  Bake the cakes for 30 minutes or until they are golden brown, when a wooden skewer inserted in the center is clean when removed.  Allow cakes to cool in the pans for 5 minutes, then remove to wire racks to cool completely.

While the cakes are baking, make the syrup.  In a narrow saucepan, stir together sugar, water, and marsala.  Place the saucepan over medium heat and bring the contents to a boil, then lower the heat slightly and allow the syrup to simmer for 5 minutes undisturbed.  Remove the pan from the heat and allow the syrup to cool.

Then prepare the filling.  Place the ricotta, confectioner's sugar, and cinnamon in the bowl of an electric mixer and, using the paddle attachment, beat until the ricotta is creamy and soft.  Add the grated chocolate, chopped almonds, and orange zest and beat just until combined.

To assemble the cassata, have ready an 8-inch springform pan.  Using a serrated knife, carefully spit each cake layer in half horizontally to make four layers.  Place one of the layers in the bottom of the pan cut side up and using a pastry brush, moisen it generously and evenly with some of the marsala syrup.  Spread the cake layer evenly with one third of the ricotta mixture.  Repeat twice with another cake layer, more of the marsala syrup, and another thired of the rictta mixture.  Place the final cake layer on top and generously brush with the rum syrup.  Wrap the springform pan tightly in plastic wrap to help the layers fit snugly on top of one another.  Chill the cake in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours or overnight.

About halfway through the chilling period, make the candied orange peels. Slice the ends off each orange, then in a downward motion, make parallel cuts through the skin around each orange.  Remove strips from the oranges, and if desired, adjust the thickness of each by slicing in half.

In a pan of boiling water, drop the orange peel strips in, and let cook for a minute or so.  Drain and repeat.  Then with the marsala syrup left from the cake, stir in orange peel strips and heat, simmering on a very low setting for about an hour.  Remove strips with a fork, and a few at a time, drop and roll in a plate full of granulated sugar.  Remove to a wire rack lined with waxed paper until dry. 

To make the frosting, in the bowl of a mixer, whip heavy cream until soft peaks form.  Add the softened gelatin, then whip until stiff.  In another bowl, combine cream cheese, sugar, salt and vanilla until smooth.  Fold the whipped cream into the cheese mixture and make sure all is incorporated.

To frost the cake, spread icing on the sides smoothly, then mound the rest on the top.  Place candied orange peels around the top and refrigerate to set the frosting about 1 hour.

Watch husband, mother, and finnicky teen eaters gobble it up when served after dinner.

Notes: 

• This cake has the all important "not too sweet" factor going on.  The ricotta and bittersweet chocolate are a pleasant combo -- especially since the chocolate isn't melted as it usually is.  Very nice!  The crunch of the well-chopped almonds added to the uniqueness of this filling.  The grated orange peel is only a hint in each bite.
• The sponge comes together rather oddly.  It's very, very thick before the addition of the egg whites, and I did wonder whether there would be any air left in the whites as I incorporated them.  My worries were unfounded, because the cakes rose very well, and after slicing each in half, allowed for four 1-inch layers.  Nice!
• The original recipe called for unsalted pistachios and after having my husband call from the grocery store several times not being able to find them, I settled for almonds.  No complaints about my husband doing the shopping, of course.  That's a treat.
• The original recipe also called for rum, and I'm sort of Bleh on rum unless it's a Pina Colada, so marsala wasn't a difficult choice.  The syrup was not boozy tasting and the marsala was a perfect compliment to the orange.  Pleasantly surprised!  Cointreau or Gran Mariner would have been too strong in my opinion, which is only worth about two cents on most days.
• I had to have cream cheese and whipped cream with this cake.  I needed a fluffy, not too strong, light and pleasant accompaniment to the sponge and dense filling.  So thanks, Breadchick, for the suggestion.  It was perfect!
• The recipe calls for chocolated grated in "fine, feathery shreds."  Um.  This takes FOREVER.  But when you're done, you'll have quite the pile of chocolate feathers.  And chocolate everywhere in your kitchen.  Not bad if you have light colored floors and counters, but take a gander at mine again.  It sort of blends in, doesn't it.  What.  A.  Mess.
• If you don't have an 8" springform pan, line a larger one with plastic wrap so that the long edges are draped up and over the edges.  Place the first layer of the cassata into the pan, then begin the process of layering.  When you're finished, draw the plastic up over the cake and wrap tightly before refrigerating.  Use the plastic to lift the cake from the pan for frosting.  Yes, I did this.
• I've made candied orange peels a variety of ways, and I do have to say that adding them to that left over marsala syrup was genius (pats self on back).  The bitterness never quite goes away even though the initial blanching is supposed to get rid of it, but the marsala really helped tone it down.  A bite of candied orange peel on a perfectly loaded fork really tastes yummy.

 
And a final note --  Not much gets me up early on Sunday without my eyebrows!  But these folks will, and even though not all of us are able to bake or chat when we get together, it's a great experience.

This time, Lis, Ben, John, Steph, Helen, Chris, Ivonne, and Marce added to the madness.  Mary was laid up with a back injury but ubiquitously there, and unfortunately, Sara, Tanna, and Laura had other things to do on a lovely Sunday.  Imagine that!

Until next time.  And who knows when that will be.  It's always a surprise.

Cassata, anyone?  I am pleasantly surprised, because I didn't think I'd enjoy this as much as I have.

Baked Eggs with Asparagus & Tomatoes

One of the good things about being on vacation for two weeks is that I've not been able to cook and add food photos to my hard drive.  That has forced me to go through what I've already accumulated, and either trash a dish, or make a mental note to post it.  Pathetically, when scanning through old photos, I can barely remember what I cooked, anyway.  So with the embarrassing addition of more than 750 vacation photos to my hard drive this week, it's been easy to delete, delete, delete old food photos, and mark the recipe (if I can actually remember where it is) to be made again with much better photos.  Sounds like a great plan that, if I know myself, will struggle toward execution.  So much food, so little time, right?

In the meantime, it's the weekend, and although half the world is smack in the middle of summer and not thrilled about turning on their ovens, knowing foodies as I do, sometimes, a recipe that's easy and delicious makes us rethink that decision.  These baked eggs are something that we love.  They work for a bistro-style dinner later in the evening, or a tasty lunch when a salad is included.  Of course, they make a great breakfast, too -- especially when there's something special to celebrate.  It's easy to mix and match ingredients, and this time, I included asparagus and tomatoes with a bit of cilantro and minced green onion.  Each time I've made these eggs, I've had some fun, but have never been disappointed.  The intensity of flavor is amazing.

Make sure you include the crusty toast.  It's perfect for scooping up the delicious eggs.

Baked Eggs with Asparagus & Tomatoes
serves 4

1 clove fresh garlic, minced
2 T cilantro, chopped
1 green onion, chopped
1/2 bundle asparagus, trimmed and cut in half
2 roma tomatoes, seeded and cored, then diced
8 large eggs
1/4 c. heavy cream
2 T unsalted butter
salt & pepper

Prepare asparagus by dropping into boiling, salted water for 1-2 minutes depending on thickness.  Immediately pour into a strainer and rinse under running cold water to stop the cooking.  Set aside on a clean towel.

Prepare all herbs and vegetables before preheating oven to "broil."  Make sure your oven rack is set no more than 6" from the heating element.

Combine garlic, cilantro, tomato, and green onion with salt and pepper to your liking in a small bowl and set aside.

To prepare the eggs, you will need 4 small cups to hold two eggs each.  You'll not use these to cook the eggs in.  Instead, they're to ready the eggs for quickly pouring into the hot, bubbling butter and cream.  After breaking two eggs into each cup, make sure to place the cups right near the oven.

On a baking sheet, place 4 gratin, or other oven-proof dishes.  A silicone mat lined baking sheet can help them from sliding around.

In each dish, place 1 T of heavy cream and 1/2 T of butter.  Place under the broiler for about 3 minutes, or until very hot and bubbly.

Without removing the baking sheet from the oven, quickly pour two eggs into each of the baking dishes, then add some pieces of asparagus, followed by a "sprinkle" of the tomato herb mixture.

Push the rack back into the oven and cook for about 5 minutes until the whites of the eggs are opaque and nearly cooked.  Remove from the oven and serve immediately.

Notes:  The original recipe can be found here.

• Depending on what you plan to serve this with, all needs to be ready before the eggs go in the broiler.  It goes so quickly that bacon can be kept warm, and toast should be finished.
• To make this toast, cut some crusty bread, brush with extra virgin olive oil and rub a sliced garlic clove over the surface before browning either upside down in a skillet over a flame, or under the broiler since you'll be using that for the eggs.
• The fruit is simple.  Choose the combination you want, then sprinkle a bit of turbinado over it, letting it sit for at least 30 minutes before serving.
• We have found that goat's cheese or feta sprinkled over the eggs after taking them from the broiler is very, very tasty.  Proscuitto added with eggs during the final heating is also excellent.
• This is not a dish that can be left unattended and the prep discussed is imperative, otherwise the dish will either burn, or cool down while you're fumbling with anything not prepped, and then the cooking time will be altered.
• Some people enjoy their eggs well done, so to speak.  There's always a chance that, when trying to get the eggs completely solid, the tops begin to brown.  They will get a bit rubbery if left in too long, so take them out before they're completely done.  The very hot dish will continue to cook them.

Experiment and enjoy!

So Much for Cooking in Rome

We arrived back home from Italy after our nearly two-week vacation completely exhausted.  I've never been able to figure out how to relax when we travel because we pack too much into each day.  Even though we know we can't possibly see everything, somehow, we end up acting like we can. 

When we left, I had every intention of focusing on food while we were away.  Like that's challenging when you're a foodie, right?  And I did look forward to each and every meal even though on most days, lunch occurred at about 4PM and we were beyond starving by that time.  But after taking photos all day each day, the last thing I felt like doing was taking photos of my food.  Besides, I would have been embarrassed in some of the restaurants we enjoyed.

As promised, I did actually use a stove twice while we were in Rome.  The Campo di Fiori is a square not too far from where our rented apartment was.  Each morning, vendors arrived with fresh fruit and vegetables, pasta, bread, housewares, and an array of pasta spices mixed and ready for purchase.  It sounds simple to consider that each day, we would wake up, stroll to the market, make our purchases for the evening meal, then go about our day.  Right?

Well, that worked the first afternoon we were there, but only because we had to look for a phone to settle the not so small matter of having no linens in our apartment when we arrived.  Once that was resolved, we took the time to behave the way we thought locals might behave, strolling through the stalls to purchase some beautiful San Marzano tomatoes, arugula, and pasta spices with porcinis from the market just as they were closing for the day.  On the far corner of the square, we found a salumeria and purchased pasta, roasted artichoke hearts, fresh mozarella, goat's cheese, bread, espresso, and some wine.  Thankfully, the apartment had olive oil and balsamic vinegar so a quick salad of arugula, fresh mozarella and vinaigrette would work well with the pasta.

Although it was fun, the flavor of the pasta was lacking.  Somehow I'd forgotten the garlic and as much as I kept adding salt, my husband noticed that I'd grabbed the "diet" salt someone had left in the apartment.  Diet salt?  No wonder.  The boys weren't too thrilled with the arugula, even though we have it at home regularly.  Somehow, they must have noticed I didn't pull it from a plastic bag!  Since we had leftovers, I later added the arugula to the pasta, and purchased a nice jar of marinara sauce to mix in along with the left over mozarella.  No one complained this time, and we could all then look forward to restaurant food from that point forward.  So much for roughing it, yes? 

Of the three cities we visited -- Rome, Sorrento, and Florence -- we enjoyed Sorrento the most.  It was both beautiful and relaxing and we were able to take time for a swim in the Mediterranean. The weather was hot, but the breeze off the water kept it from becoming as stifling as Rome was.  From a food and wine perspective, we only had one meal that wasn't very good, but that was our fault for choosing a restaurant in a touristy spot in Florence.

The last night there, we ended our vacation as we began by choosing salami and asagio, olives, grapes, apples and pears, bread and wine to enjoy at the gazebo at Fattoria Settemerli, the ancient farmhouse we stayed in outside Florence.  It was a perfect way to end our time there.

If you're interested in the nitty gritty of our trip, I'm writing about it here, the home of my alter ego. 

Off to Italy

The best laid plans to pre-write posts for publication while we're on vacation in Italy did not come to fruition.  It figures!  There was just too much going on.  The big dilemma will be whether I actually remember the recipes of all those photos I now have on my hard drive.  I know you understand, because your hard drive most likely looks the same as mine.  Okay, so maybe not quite as bad.

Anyway, my heart was in the right place.  I'll be back in two weeks, with ideas for new recipes, and stories of the food we enjoyed while we were traveling.

Cheers!