Weekly Dish

The other night we invited friends over for dinner. We wanted to grill and sit outside–the spring weather here has been lovely. So I was looking for a dessert recipe that I could make ahead of time, put in the fridge, and forget about until later. Three pints of gorgeous Louisiana strawberries from the morning’s market visit begged to be part of whatever I concocted, so I decided to turn my Basalmic Strawberries and Mascarpone Cream into a tart.

Because I had time, I made the crust from scratch (see my notes about making the crust below), but a refrigerated one would work just fine too (although you should read Aunt Prissy’s warning below before you make that decision).

Seasonal, sweet strawberries are the stars in this dessert: the creamy filling and basalmic syrup are really just glitzy accessories. Once you’ve made the crust, the tart comes together quickly, and then you can slide it in the fridge and concentrate on your guests. Just the kind of make-ahead dessert that’s perfect for an evening of grilling for company. Or perhaps for Easter brunch?

Basalmic-Mascarpone Strawberry Tart

1 recipe Aunt Prissy’s Basic Pie Crust (see below)
2 pints strawberries
2 T. sugar (or less, depending on how sweet the berries are)
1/2 cup mascarpone cheese
1/2 cup whipping cream
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1/4 cup good balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup sugar

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Roll the dough into a circle, lightly working from the center to get it as even as possible. Carefully lay the circle of dough on your tart pan, letting the excess hang over the edge. Gently press the dough into the pan, using your fingers to trim it to fit and to press it into the fluted edge. Pierce all over with a fork. Cover with aluminum foil, pressing it lightly to make sure it stays put (or if you have pie weights or beans, you can use those to keep it in place.) Bake for about 12 minutes, then remove the foil, and bake for 10 minutes more, or until lightly golden brown.

Meanwhile, wash and hull the strawberries. Dry them, and then cut them into quarters or slices, whichever you prefer, toss them into a bowl, sprinkle with sugar, and set aside. Whip the mascarpone and powdered sugar together until well-combined. Add the cream in a steady stream with the mixer running on medium-low speed. You want to whip the cream so that it’s thick but not stiff; it’s easy to overmix it. It should still be pourable so you can spread it onto the tart crust.

In a saucepan, bring the vinegar and 1/4 cup sugar to a slow boil; reduce the heat, and cook for another few minutes. Turn off the heat and set aside; it will thicken as it cools.

To assemble: spread the mascarpone mixture evenly over the bottom of the crust. Top with the strawberries. At this point, the tart can be covered and refrigerated for several hours. When ready to serve, drizzle the basalmic syrup over the top (this looks pretty; sorry I don’t have a picture, but I think it’s rude to make guests wait to eat while I do a photo shoot!).

Aunt Prissy’s Basic Pie Crust
1 1/4 cups flour
3/8 t. salt
1/4 cup vegetable shortening
3 1/2 T. cold butter
4-5 T. cold water

In a food processor, pulse the flour, salt, shortening, and butter together until crumbly (pea-sized crumbles). Add the water, a tablespoon at a time, continuining to pulse, until the dough forms into a ball. You want to be careful not to overprocess it, but it takes a few minutes for the dough to stick together. Just don’t leave the motor running. Pull the dough out and form into a ball. Cover with plastic wrap, flattening it into a disc, and refrigerate for about an hour (this time, I only waited 45 minutes before rolling it out, and it was fine). Roll out onto a floured board, but take your time; you don’t want to put too much pressure on it. Proceed to pie recipe.

Notes about the crust: My Aunt Prissy wrote this recipe on an index card to go into my Aunt’s Recipe Book I received when I got married. I have halved the recipe because I rarely make a double-crusted pie and because only this much will fit into my small food processor. If you have a big one, please feel free to double the recipe. If you have never made a homemade pie crust and you are scared, I will leave you with these words that Aunt Prissy wrote on the back of the recipe card: “Please do not be afraid to make pie crust. Flour, crisco, butter, and salt do not have souls. You do not have to win them to Christ. They are just ingredients that happen to make all pies taste fabulous as opposed to pies made with store-bought, already-made pie crusts that only taste good. Do not be afraid, have courage, take up the fight to learn how to make your own pie crust and go forth!!”

Happy Easter, everyone!

WARNING: VERY CHEESY HUMOR TO FOLLOW.

Blame it on the Mardi Gras vacation we’ve enjoyed this week, or the silly star-struck-ness that I feel towards the Academy Awards (or perhaps on the drink you see above…), but David and I decided on a whim yesterday to throw ourselves an Oscar party. This is sort of a tradition for us–last year, I even dressed up in an old bridesmaid’s dress (because my close friends sometimes read this blog, I won’t disclose which one!) and a plastic tiara to cook our party food and enjoy our evening with the stars.

I’m a total sucker for the Hollywood glam, and David and I are both movie fanatics, so I guess it’s no surprise that we watch the Oscars every year. This year, though, we’re taking our celebrating to a whole new corny level. And for some reason, I felt inclined to share our corniness with you. So, without further ado, I present the evening’s menu, and the recipe for the dessert cocktail pictured above.

To kick off the evening, we shall be having Constant Garden Salad, for which no illegally obtained pharmaceuticals will be used. We promise. For the main course, Brokeback Ribs glazed with a Chipotle-Marmalade sauce will be accompanied by Pimp’d Out Sweet Potatoes (the kind that someone like Terrence Howard might sing about). For our dessert cocktail, a Chocolate Mint Crash Martini demonstrates that liquor of all shades can reside in harmony.

And, the recipe for the martini represents my first-ever contribution to Weekend Herb Blogging over at Kalyn’s Kitchen. Please give a big round of applause for…

Chocolate Mint!

To make the Crash Martini, you will need:

1 ounce of heavy cream
1 ounce of caramel or chocolate flavored cream liqueur, like Cask and Cream or Godiva
1 ounce of vanilla vodka
2 or 3 sprigs of chocolate mint

Smash the mint leaves and vodka together with the handle of a wooden spoon or other blunt instrument (I’m sure there’s a proper bar tool for this). This process, of infusing the mint into the vodka, is called muddling, I’m told. Let the minty vodka sit while you prepare the rest. In a martini glass, pour in the cream first and then the cream liqueur, carefully so that the colors mingle but don’t mix entirely (this requires a bit of a steady hand). Remove the mint leaves from the vodka and top off the martini with the vodka. Enjoy and try to concentrate on how well those flavors get along. Hopeful, isn’t it?

This is really more like dessert than a cocktail, but I bet it would make a fabulous addition to ice cream or coffee too.

The rest of tonight’s recipes are to follow next week…stay tuned!

When I got married, one of the most thoughtful gifts I received was from a family friend with whom I happened to be working at the time. During our time as co-workers, Beth apparently noticed my insatiable passion for muffins, and for my office shower, she brought me a very cute basket, packed with a muffin tin, brightly colored dish cloths, and a little cookbook called Muffins, A to Z. Today, the cloths are faded and worn, and I’ve made almost every muffin recipe in the book. Every time I mix up a new batch of batter, I can’t help but think about sweet Beth who paid such careful attention to my love of these small breakfast wonders.

I really love all kinds of muffins–sweet, savory, fruit, chocolate, light, dense–you name it, and I’ve tried it. I have some old favorites that I return to, of course, but I’m always on the lookout for new ideas. When my sweet friend Rorie of Milk & Honey posted a scone recipe using Meyer lemons and cranberries several weeks ago, I knew I wanted to hi-jack that flavor combination for muffins.

The lemon flavor is clean and light, not too overpowering, and the cranberries add a nice zip to every other bite. The texture is cake-like and moist, as I prefer my muffins, due to the combination of butter and buttermilk for the fat and liquid content.

Perfect for an end-of-winter Saturday morning. In fact, I think I’ll make them again tomorrow.

Lemon-Cranberry Muffins

NOTE: I tried these again with orange zest and juice substituted for the lemon and grated nutmeg for the almond extract with good results!

2 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
2 t. baking powder
1 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
Zest of 2 Meyer lemons, about 1 T.
1 1/4 cups buttermilk
6 T. butter
2 large eggs
1/4 t. almond extract
Juice of 1 Meyer lemon, about 1/4 cup
1 cup dried, fresh, or frozen cranberries (I used dried)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees, and grease your muffin pan. Combine the dry ingredients: flour, sugar, baking powder and soda, salt, and lemon zest in a large bowl. Melt the butter and whisk together quickly with the buttermilk (it helps if the buttermilk is not ice cold); whisk in the eggs. Add the almond extract and lemon juice and stir to blend. Fold the wet ingredients into the dry by adding all at once, folding together until just blended (overmixing will make a tough muffin.) Fold in the cranberries. Divide the batter among the muffin cups and bake for 18-22 minutes, until the tops are lightly golden and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Don’t get me wrong. I love chocolate as much as the next girl. But really and truly, fruit is where my heart is. Usually, if given the choice, I pick lighter, brighter fruity desserts over dark, rich chocolate ones. It doesn’t mean I won’t pick chocolate occasionally, or even that I don’t have serious chocolate cravings every now and again–I do. But by and large, the simplest, fruit-flavored sweets are the ones that win me over.

Lemon curd has had me hooked from the day we first met, in my kitchen in Jackson several years ago. I was working as the editor of a regional magazine, a job that required an arsenal of skills I didn’t know I had when I was hired (like knowing how to spell 27 varieties of lace for the bridal edition), and I volunteered to make lemon curd for a photo shoot. I don’t even know that I’d ever had it before, and I was quite intimidated by all the zesting and juicing of the lemons. But once I’d made it through all 6 lemons and the curd had arrived at the right consistency, the velvety substance had me swooning.

I could, given the chance, consume large quantities of lemon curd with a spoon, all by itself, and be quite content. But I love it most of all with strawberries. The tangle of tart and sweet, butter and sugar, berry and citrus makes my heart flutter and my tastebuds melt. And if the lemons I curd just happen to be Meyer lemons and the strawberries the first of the season, well, that’s what I have to call love. Pure and simple.

The only thing more delicious to me than this dessert is life with my sweet husband. May your Valentine’s Day bring you such happiness too!

Simple Lemon Curd
1 1/2 cups sugar
5 large eggs
Juice and zest of about 6 regular lemons or 4 Meyer lemons (the juice should equal about a cup to a cup and a half)
1/4 cup butter, cut into pieces

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk the eggs, sugar, juice, and zest together vigorously, until well-blended. Cook slowly over low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture thickens. You MUST keep stirring, or the eggs will cook unevenly and curdle (you don’t want that!). This process usually takes about 15-20 minutes, so be prepared to stir for awhile (I usually pull up a bar stool and put a book in my lap). When it’s done, it should easily coat a spoon. Then, remove it from the heat and stir in the butter until it melts. The mixture will thicken more on refrigeration. It will keep in the fridge for a couple of weeks in a tightly sealed container. Of course, it never lasts that long at our house! Spoon over berries, cake, toast, your Valentine…whatever suits your fancy.

This recipe is this week’s submission to ARF Tuesdays over at Sweetnicks.

Everyone knows that the danger of a sugar high is the low-energy dip that follows. For Sugar (not so) High Friday this time around, we have been encouraged by the lovely Sam to subvert the sugar high, to knock it on its head. Or, less theoretically, to prepare a healthful dessert, relatively low in sugar and fat content.

No one can live without sweets every once in a while, even the post-holiday dieters among us. So creating something delicious to satisfy a sweet craving without crashing your calorie count is a most worthy — if difficult — challenge. This recipe is one I’ve been toying with for a few months — the original was passed along by my aunt from longtime family friend Angela Rehmann, who teaches cooking classes occasionally. Louisiana strawberries have begun to appear at my farmer’s market in glorious abundance over the past few weeks, and with the help of Angela’s recipe, I have hit on my favorite simple and sugar-free preparation of them, which makes a lovely and delicious dessert.

With so few ingredients, quality becomes key here. Really good basalmic vinegar and honey will reduce to a delectable, tangy syrup, the perfect topping for just-ripe strawberries. A small bit of mascarpone cheese whipped with fresh cream smooths out the vinegar’s kick–when everything is mixed together, the cream coats the syrupy berries in a silky cloud, making each bite melt slowly on the tongue. All in all, this dessert is just the kind to assuage that after-dinner hankering for something not too sweet or heavy, and you don’t have to feel too guilty about eating it. Just the kind of (not so) sugar high I enjoy most.

Strawberries in Basalmic Syrup with Mascarpone Cream

1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup good basalmic vinegar
1/4 cup mascarpone cheese
1/4 cup whipping cream
1 pint strawberries, hulled and sliced
In a small saucepan, bring the honey and basalmic vingar to a slow boil, stirring constantly. Reduce the heat and stir until it thickens, about a minute. Remove from heat and cool. Whip the mascarpone cheese and cream until soft peaks form. Divide the strawberries between 4 glasses or bowls. Drizzle the syrup over the berries, and top each glass with a dollop of the cream.

Tagged with: SHF # 15 + Low Sugar

Or maybe it is. What do I know? Well, I’ll tell you. I do know that three types of apples are on Sweetnicks‘ list of the top twenty most antioxidant-rich foods: Gala, Red Delicious, and Granny Smith. And I know that ever since Ina Garten’s recipe convinced me, applesauce is my very favorite thing to make with a bushel o’ apples.

Before Ina, I never even thought about making my own applesauce. I’d never had any that was homemade, and who eats applesauce besides third graders anyway? And, then my Aunt Prissy gave me The Barefoot Contessa, and my applesauce prejudices dissolved right into the casserole dish with the apples. The texture of the sauce is perfectly chunky-smooth, and the spices add just the right complexity and depth to the apple-citrus combo. Plus, with all of those apples and the juice and zest from 4 other pieces of fruit, it has to have some kind of nutritional punch, right?

Yes, okay, so it has a little butter in it. But I substitute cane syrup for most of the sugar, and I bet that honey would also work. Butter and sugar aside, applesauce still contains all of the vitamin-y goodness of the fruit it’s made of. This batch made a lovely side to go with our roast chicken last night, and it will be the perfect, antioxidant-rich snack for at least another week. Besides, doesn’t it look pretty in the little mini-goblet my mom got me for Christmas?

(more…)

The theme for this month’s Paper Chef, as decreed by the grand master of cermonies, Owen, is the spirit of renewal that a new year brings: health, peace, simplicity. The ingredients, presented Friday by that ever-hilarious duo over at Belly-Timber, are healthful indeed: cashews, quinoa, yog(h)urt, and something baby, in honor of the infant year. (We’ll get to that mysterious q-word in just a moment).

But, well, see, here’s the thing. I live in southern Louisiana. Here, the New Year (January 6 to be exact) kicks off the beginning of Mardi Gras (or the anticipation of Mardi Gras, often called Carnival). A spirit of. . . celebration, revelry, getting all the fun out of your system before Lent begins marks the atmosphere ’round these parts. Parades and masks and balls and feasts. . .and health and simplicity? Hmmmm.

Alright, so maybe we interpret renewal a bit differently down here. BUT, in light of the ways in which the state suffered in 2005, I certainly think renewal is in order. And what better way to inaugurate such renewal than with a celebration of one of New Orleans’ oldest and most famous traditions? (more…)

To kick off the celebrating season, two of my girlfriends from college came and spent the weekend with us. We had a low-key few days, as it was raining and dreary, and they both were in need of some serious R&R. I loved having them perched on the bar stools in my kitchen while I finished up my holiday baking and cooked meals for them. To end our dinner the first night they were here, I mixed up a batch of this hot chocolate, a name which is really not appropriate.

This thick liquid is much more like dessert than any drink, and the amaretto turns it into an entirely grown-up affair. This recipe is based loosely on Ina Garten’s for hot chocolate, which my sister-in-law dearly loves. Ina says an immersion blender will make it frothy like cappuccino, but I don’t have one, and it tastes just as delicious to me without the foam. Patty, Lydia, and I found this hot chocolate to be the perfect staying-in dessert; all three of us slept very soundly after sipping such a warm, decadently rich concoction. Beware, though, it should be consumed in small quantities!

(more…)

This is my sister. She is holding a piece of the apple pie she made when she came to visit. Doesn’t she look happy? I am trying to convince her that cooking is a delightful hobby for us to share. Of course, she lives in the dorm at the moment, so she doesn’t have much of a need to cook. But she will one day. Or so I keep telling her.

Really, I think, there are very few things in life quite like having a sister. I was 9 when Elizabeth was born, and I already had two brothers. And I liked them okay, but, well, they were. . .you know. . .boys. When my mom told us she was having a baby I just knew it would be a girl. I knew because I prayed every single night before I went to sleep that it would be. I have some pretty hilarious diary entries which reveal these facts (apparently I’ve been writing most of my life).

Of course by the time she was about 3, I was convinced that the joke was on me. By the time I was into wearing make-up and jewelry, she was into smearing my makeup all over her arms and legs and scattering the earrings for my newly pierced ears from one end of the house to the other. By the time I was into watching movies with boys in my parents’ living room, she was into spying on us. Or opening the front door to some unsuspecting boy only to slam it in his face. Or parading around in little to no clothing. We shared a bedroom my last three years of high school, and by the time I left for the dorm, I was pretty sure we would never have anything in common.

But growing up has mysterious effects on sibling relationships. As each year goes by, I think we are more and more alike in some ways and different in some really complementary ones too. We like a lot of the same foods, for instance, and I am trying really hard to persuade her that we both also love to cook it. Whenever she comes to visit, we spend a lot of time in the kitchen. This last time, I put her in charge of the apple pie. And, she did a fantastic job. See how tasty it looks?