Monday, March 26, 2018

Winter Citrus in a Pretty Pink Poppy Seed Cake

Today’s post is about a recipe fail....  But this is not a bad thing.  In a small way it is somewhat akin to the way a “foster fail” in animal rescue circles isn’t a bad thing.  Even though the result wasn’t the goal, ultimately the way things ended was very good.  Today’s cake is everything a cake should be.  It’s tender, beautiful to look at, pleasantly sweet… has a lovely, even grain…and is super delicious.  One might wonder what could possibly be wrong with it.  Well, the truth is, it isn’t the cake I intended to make.

 A few weeks ago a friend shared a slice of a delicious grapefruit cake with me.  Around the same time I saw a grapefruit poppy seed cake on Instagram.   These grapefruit cakes made me want to make my own grapefruit cake.  So I decided to make one…with poppy seeds.  As delicious as the first cake I tasted was, I wanted more of a pound cake texture (dense and finely grained).  The image I saw on Instagram was more in the style of a pound cake, but it seemed to get its flavor boost from slices of grilled grapefruit shingled on top of the loaf —which didn’t bode well for storage purposes (and one of the things I like about pound cake is how well it stores).  As I was thinking about the possibilities, I looked at a lot of recipes for pound cake-like poppy seed cakes.  But ultimately I ended up drawing mostly from Ina Garten’s lemon cake, Rose Levy Beranbaum's lemon poppy seed pound cake and Helen Goh’s lemon poppy seed cake.  With such fine recipes as my starting point, switching to grapefruit from lemon seemed like a fairly easy transition.

 And as I took my first run at the cake out of the oven, my hopes were high.  The cake looked perfect: golden brown, gently domed, etc.  It drank up the grapefruit syrup without any resistance.  Sometimes cakes act like “I’m full…no more.…”  And as you try to coax just a little more syrup in, it just runs off.  But not this cake—all the syrup was easily absorbed.  I made a beautiful pale, peachy pink (just the color of a pink grapefruit) glaze that fell in nice, thick random drips down the sides of the cake.

It sliced beautifully—without tearing or producing a mess of crumbs—displaying a fine even crumb on the interior.  Then.  I tasted a slice.  It was tender, sweet, moist and delicious. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t taste at all like grapefruit!  It had juice, loads of zest, grapefruit syrup and a grapefruit frosting—but it only had a vague kind of general citrus flavor.  I was mystified.  I gave out slices to friends—all of whom loved the cake (I had requests for the recipe) and all of whom agreed it didn’t taste of grapefruit. 

 I tried three more versions of the cake.  In the first I reduced a full cup of grapefruit juice down to two tablespoons before adding it to the batter.  (A nice bonus of having to squeeze so much juice was extra zest that I candied and used as a garnish…)  In the second I replaced all of the other liquid in the cake with straight grapefruit juice.  Neither of these produced a more discernible grapefruit flavor.  At this point, I decided to abandon grapefruit altogether and go with the blood orange that had been suggested by one of my first taste testers.  

The blood orange cake was also beautiful…and the frosting didn’t require any food color (in fact, I had to use part milk in the frosting to keep it from being a dark pink).  Again…I had high hopes.  Once again only a general citrus flavor…

You might wonder why I didn’t try varying some of the other ingredients—altering the amount of sugar…or the type of leavener…etc.  I could have.  And all of these things might have helped create the grapefruit taste I was looking for.  But any of these changes would also necessarily change the texture and character of the cake.  And since the texture and character of this cake was just about perfect, I wasn’t interested in pursuing any of those alterations.

Instead, I have decided to rename the cake.  I no longer have a failed Grapefruit Poppy Seed Cake, I have a wonderfully successful Pink Citrus Poppy Seed Cake.  It is delicious when made with grapefruit…  Or blood orange.  I imagine it would be excellent with Cara Cara oranges…or any juicy tangerine you might have on hand (there is a lovely new one out called a Ruby Tango that has great flavor and a beautiful rosy flesh).  Lemons would be delicious too.  Just think, if you made it with lemons and tinted the frosting pink, you would have a Pink Lemonade Poppy Seed cake. 

Pink Citrus & Poppy Seed Cake

1 1/2 c. All-purpose Flour (170g)
1 1/4 t. Baking Powder (5g)
3/8 t. salt
14 T. Unsalted Butter, room temperature (200g)
1 c. Sugar (200g)
1 T. grapefruit zest (or other citrus zest to match your chosen citrus fruit)--see note
2 eggs plus 1 yolk, room temperature (120g)
6 T. yogurt (90g)
2 T. grapefruit juice (28g)…or orange juice…or tangerine juice….etc.
2 T. plus 1 t. poppy seeds (20g)

3 T. sugar (38g)
3 T. citrus juice (45g)—match juice in cake

Preheat the oven to 350°F (see note).  Butter and flour a 6-cup loaf pans.

Combine the dry ingredients and set aside.  Cream the butter, sugar and zest until light and very fluffy (about 5 minutes...possibly longer if the room is cool).  Beat in the eggs and yolk, one at a time.  Combine the yogurt and juice.  Fold in the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the yogurt mixture, beginning and ending with the flour mixture.  Add the poppy seeds with the last addition of flour. Turn the batter into the prepared pan.  

Bake until golden and a cake tester comes out clean—about an 60 to 70 minutes. 

Combine 3 T. sugar with 3 T. juice in a small saucepan and cook over low heat until the sugar dissolves. 

When the cake is done, cool in the pan for 5 minutes; invert the cake onto a wire rack that has been lightly greased (pan spray works well for this).  Brush the bottom of the cake with syrup. Set the cake upright and brush more syrup over the top and sides.  Let cool completely.  

While the cake cools make the powdered sugar glaze (recipe below).  Scrape the glaze onto the top of the cake and use an offset spatula to smooth the top and force the glaze to the edges where it should slip slowly and randomly down the sides of the cake. Garnish with a sprinkled “stripe” of poppy seeds down the center.  When the frosting is "set", wrap the cake airtight. 

  • My 6-cup loaf pan is pyrex/glass, so I lower the oven temperature to 325° F when I make the cake. 
  • You can add 2 to 3 times this amount of zest.  There is a lot more flavor in the zest than the juice and increasing the amount of zest is the best way to boost the citrus flavor. 
  • If you have time, combine the zest with the sugar ahead of time.  The zest will infuse the sugar with citrus flavor and amplify the citrus taste of the cake.

Pink Citrus Glaze

1 c. powdered sugar (120 g.)
1 T. melted butter (15 g,)
1 1/2 T. freshly squeezed (and strained) citrus (match cake) juice
1/4 t. freshly squeezed (and strained) lemon juice
1/4 t. vanilla
Food color to get pale peachy pink color (see note)

Combine the powdered sugar, melted butter, citrus juices and vanilla in a bowl and beat until smooth. The glaze should be fairly thick…but will flow a bit too.  If it is too thick, add a bit more juice.  Use immediately since the melted butter will begin to firm up right away.  (If the glaze sets up too quickly, a few seconds in the microwave will soften it nicely.)

Note:  If making a blood orange cake you will not need food color.  Instead, cut juice to 1 or 2 t. and make up the remaining amount with milk.  If you don’t cut the liquid with milk the frosting will be a dark pink instead of a pale pastel shade.

Friday, March 16, 2018

Chocolate-Pistachio Cookies with Dark & White Chocolate Chunks…(and an anniversary)

A few weeks ago I saw a picture  on Instagram featuring one of my favorite combinations of dessert flavors (pistachio, chocolate and orange).  I think it was just a few days later that someone on Facebook asked for my opinion about incorporating hazelnuts into a recipe for some cookies they were planning on making.  I am not always able to trace the meanderings of my thinking as far as food is concerned, but I’m fairly certain it was the proximity of these two virtual food interactions that put it in my head to rework an old chocolate hazelnut cookie recipe into a new chocolate pistachio cookie (with white chocolate chips and orange zest).  Such is the working of my mind…and the influence of social media….

When I stop to think about it, it surprises me how much social media has come to influence my cooking.  For many years I purposefully avoided the world of social media…thinking that Facebook was a bit odd…and being largely unaware of the other outlets.  I was happily buried in the kitchen and my old-fashioned (non-virtual) social networks. So unlikely was it that I would join Facebook that when I finally did sign up, a friend responded to my "friend" request by christening my new wall with the post, “Hath hell frozen over?!!!”  

In the end, it had been cooking…through my blog…that served as the tipping point for me.  Maintaining a distance from all of this isn’t really an option for a blogger.  When I started For Love of the Table, not only was I putting my work and ideas on a public web page for all (or at least anyone who was interested) to see, I found that if I wanted to get the word out about what I was doing—I would have to participate in at least some of these social media outlets.  I tried Facebook first…and Pinterest soon after.  For a long time these were the only ones I used.   Recently I added Instagram.  (Twitter still doesn’t hold much appeal for me.  But I admit that I have discovered that I love Instagram.)

Even without including the effect that social media has had on my cooking life, For Love of the Table has changed my life in a lot of ways.  I mention all of this because on this date--the anniversary of my first post--I always take a moment to stop and reflect on this thing that has become such a large part of my life.  It has now been eight years…and I’m still at it.  I don’t post as often as I once did (I’m not sure where I found the time!)…but I persist, nevertheless. I truly love writing about the things I am learning and making in my kitchen.  And it continues to be my hope that those who visit will learn something…cook a lot…and share the delicious foods that they make with their family and friends.

For those who might not have been here for other anniversaries, I have also made it an informal tradition to make something with pistachios to mark the date.  There is nothing special or significant about pistachios...other than I happened to make a pistachio cake on the first anniversary...  And I happen to like them.  The fact that my anniversary was approaching is of course the other reason the Instagram image and the Facebook conversation would have made me think to make these chocolate pistachio cookies.  And I'm happy I did.  They are delicious--soft and chewy....chocolaty and sweet...with a delightful pop of orange--a surprisingly special little cookie.  

Chocolate-Pistachio Cookies with Dark & White Chocolate Chunks

The orange flavor in these cookies is a wonderful surprise—don’t leave it out!  If you like dried fruit in your chocolate chip-style cookies, I have made these with dried tart cherries.  The cherries add some nice tartness…and a pleasant chew…but they also tone down the sweetness of the cookies  (which could be good or bad…depending on your perspective and tastes).

1/3 c. (45 g) plus 1/2 c. (68 g) pistachios
1 1/4 c. (150 g) all-purpose flour
1/3 c. (25 g) cocoa powder (Dutch-processed)
1/2 t. baking powder
1/2 t. baking soda
3/8 t. salt
4 oz. unsalted butter, softened
1/2 c. (100 g) golden brown sugar
1/2 c. (100 g) sugar
Zest of 1 orange (about 1/2 T.)
1 egg
1 t. vanilla
1/2 c. bitter-sweet chocolate chips/chunks (60%)
1/2 c. white chocolate chips/chunks

Spread the pistachios on a baking sheet and toast in a 350° oven until fragrant and just beginning to be tinged with color—about 5 minutes. Let the nuts cool.  Take 1/2 c. of the pistachios and chop very coarsely.  Set aside.  Take the remaining 1/3 c. (45 g.) of the nuts and grind them flour-fine. (A rotary nut grinder works best for this, but in a pinch you can grind them in the food processor if you add a couple of tablespoons of the granulated sugar.  If using the food processor, you will not be able to grind the nuts as finely—they would turn into nut butter if you tried.  If this happens and you end up with nut butter, add the nut butter with the unsalted butter, not with the dry ingredients…)  Whisk the nut flour together with the all-purpose flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

Cream the butter with the sugars and zest just until smooth. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, and beat in the egg followed by the vanilla. Add the dry ingredients and mix on low speed until just combined. Add the chocolate chips and the reserved 1/2 c. of pistachios as the last of the dry ingredients are absorbed into the dough.

Scoop the dough with a level tablespoon-sized cookie scoop. Roll the scooped cookies into balls.  You can bake these immediately, but I think they taste better—and have a nicer texture—if the dough balls are chilled overnight (or frozen for longer storage).  When you are ready to bake them, place the balls of dough on a parchment-lined baking sheet, spreading them 2 inches apart. Flatten the balls slightly (if the dough has been frozen or chilled, you will need to let it sit at room temperature for a few moments so that it will soften enough to do this).

Bake the cookies in a 350° oven for about 8 to 9 minutes, turning the sheet half way through the baking. The cookies are done with they have puffed up and have lost their wet sheen. 

They will also have begun to crack slightly.  Remove them from the oven at this point.  (You will think it's too soon, but take them out anyway.  You can always bake the next batch longer…and these cookies are so much better when they are soft and chewy.  They will be hard and crisp if baked too long.)  Leave the cookies on the sheet for two or three minutes (they will be too soft to remove right away).  They will collapse slightly and then firm up enough so that you can remove them from the sheet.  Transfer the warm cookies to wire racks to cool.

Makes 40 cookies

For Tart Cherry Variation:  Instead of 1/2 cup each of dark chocolate, white chocolate and pistachio, add a rounded third cup each of dark and white chocolate, pistachios and dried tart cherries.

Printable Version

Sunday, March 11, 2018

Moroccan Carrot Salad with Labneh Toast...and a short discussion of how to make perfect "toast"

Today’s post is one hundred percent inspired by my favorite local bakery.  If you live in the Kansas City Metropolitan area and you have never been to Ibis, you need to make a point to visit soon.  Their breads are some of the best I have ever had…if not the best.  Likewise, their pastries, sweets and laminated doughs are fantastic.  I don’t know why I was so surprised that the items on their limited little breakfast and lunch menus would be so delicious too…but they are. 

I mentioned the avocado toast that my friends ordered at my first outing to the new Ibis location in my grain bowl post.  What I didn’t say in that post was how perfect the toast itself was…which may seem like a strange thing to make note of.  “Toast”—meaning a knife and fork little plate with a slice of toast topped with something (hopefully) delicious—has become a thing.  You can get them everywhere…and they are easy to make yourself since basically decent artisanal-style bread is widely available.  The thing is, delicious as these “toasts” can be, often eating them is a bit of a wrestling match.  The toasting process hardens the crust (which usually has the “chew” desirable in artisanal-style breads) into something that is quite difficult to cut through and eat with any semblance of the grace appropriate for polite dining.  We put up with this, I suppose, because the toppings are delicious…and the bread is delicious…but it is at the very least an inconvenience.  I’ll be honest…I really don’t like to fight with my food.  And I don’t like to worry that it might fly off the plate during the battle.

Anyway, the toast portion of that avocado toast was, as I said, perfect:  It had substance…but was easy to cut.  You may recall from my earlier post that I didn’t order the avocado toast, but one of my friends who did drew my attention to the perfection of the toast (that is, the bread portion).  So, the next time I ate there, I ordered a “toast” (with house made pastrami…which was truly excellent as well).  And the toasted bread was, as my friend had pointed out, extraordinary:  flavorful, with a beautiful golden browned and crisped surface (it’s toast, after all)—and substantial enough to absorb the flavors of the toppings without disintegrating.  The whole thing did require the use of a knife and fork…but it was yielding enough that it wasn’t a fight.  Perfect. 

I began to wonder how they achieved this balance.  Did they have a better toaster than I did?  Had they aged the bread a bit…then soaked it in something?  I really don’t know.  What was obvious to me though, was that in the process of toasting the bread, they still managed to conserve the moisture of the bread.  So, I set about figuring out how I could do the same thing in my own kitchen.

The first thing I did was ditch the toaster.  It occurred to me that well buttered bread, fried in a skillet, was more likely to be uniformly crisped and golden while still maintaining a bit of interior softness than bread that was subjected to the dry heat of the toaster.  (If you have ever made croutons by sautéing them in a skillet as opposed to tossing them in oil and toasting them in an oven, you know exactly what I mean.)  But even this isn’t enough to keep those wonderful artisanal crusts from becoming unmanageably hard.  I decided that a little bit of steam might do the trick…so I tried covering the skillet while I toasted the bread, thinking the moisture still inherent in the bread would be captured by a lid.  I’m happy to report that this did the trick.    

As I said…I have no idea how they are doing it at Ibis, but thanks to the inspiration of their perfect toasts, I am now much happier with the toasts that come out of my kitchen and appear on my table.  And I have been putting my new found skill to work…

in an avocado toast (of course)…

and recently for a toast smeared with labneh, topped with a sautéed mushrooms and squash, finished with fontina and then run under the broiler… 

Obviously the possibilities are without limit. 

I don’t know if it was the fact that I associate toast with Ibis.  Or the fact that I brought home a loaf of their wonderful bread on the same day I sampled a Moroccan carrot salad in their café that I just had to recreate at home (it was that good).  But ultimately I ended up turning my take on their Moroccan salad into a “toast”. 

The original Moroccan carrot salad at Ibis was a delicious green salad with little baby carrots scattered throughout (which surprised me…when I think of Moroccan carrot salads, I think of a salad of mostly carrots).  The greens were a mix of finely cut arugula, claytonia and baby red veined sorrel.  I didn’t have the sorrel in my pantry, but I did have the arugula and—surprisingly—the claytonia.  I had purchased some at the farmers’ market and had been wondering how I was going to use it.  This…along with the fact that I had also picked up some sweet little baby carrots at the market…played into my desire to recreate Ibis’s wonderful salad.

In addition to the fine little greens and baby carrots, their salad included golden raisins and candied sunflower seeds.  Everything was tossed in a lemony, harissa-spiced vinaigrette.  The whole effect was vibrant and delicious.

I recreated the salad for dinner with my arugula and claytonia and baby carrots.  I have been in the habit of keeping harissa on hand, so I dressed the cooked baby carrots with some of that (if you have never dressed cooked carrots with nothing but a little olive oil and harissa, you should definitely give it a try…it makes a wonderful little side dish…served hot or cold).  Instead of golden raisins and sunflower seeds, I added strips of Medjool dates and toasted pistachios.  I tossed the whole thing with a simple sherry vinaigrette.  And since I wanted to make my salad slightly more substantial, I added some blobs of labneh and served it with a slice of Ibis bread.  It was fantastic.

The very next day, I turned it into a “toast” for lunch.   Instead of dolloping the labneh all over the salad and serving it with bread, I made toast (using my covered skillet method) and smeared it with a generous quantity of labneh and piled the salad on top.  I no longer had any baby carrots, but plain old, full-grown carrots, peeled, cut into fat quills and roasted (using my favorite method) were a perfect stand in…and also something I always have on hand.  And this is a good thing, because I will be making this particular “toast” again and again.


Moroccan Carrot Salad Toast

The Carrots:
Trim and peel the carrots.  Cut the carrots on a diagonal about 1/3-inch thick.  Cut the slices in two or three pieces length-wise.  Your carrots pieces should look about like a piece of penne pasta.  

Toss the carrots with olive oil to coat and season with salt and pepper.  Place the carrots in a baking dish that is just large enough to hold them in a snug single layer. Add a splash of water (just enough to barely film the bottom of the pan).  Cover the pan tightly with foil and place in a 375° to 400° oven.  After 20 minutes, uncover the pan and give the carrots a stir.  Return the pan (uncovered) to the oven and continue to cook until the carrots are tender to the tip of a knife—10 to 20 minutes more.  Add a bit of harissa and toss to coat.  

Serve hot or room temperature.  You can add as much or as little harissa as you like.  For me, a heaped tablespoon per pound (pre-trim weight) of carrots is about right.  A pound of carrots will make enough carrots for 4 or 5 servings of Moroccan Carrot Salad Toast.

The Toast:
For each toast, you’ll need a thick (about 3/4-inch) slice of a hearty artisanal-style bread.  Something wide is best.  If your loaf is narrow, maybe cut a slice on a diagonal.  Put a cast iron pan over a moderately high heat.  Spread both sides of the bread generously with soft butter.  

Place the bread in the skillet.  You should hear a quiet sizzle.  Cover the pan with a lid.  (The lid for my cast iron skillet does not fit tightly, so you may find that you may need to put a tight fitting lid on so that it is slightly ajar.  Or perhaps not.  It’s hard to say.  If you find your bread is too soft when covered tightly—leave the lid ajar…if it is too crunchy when the lid is ajar—cover it tightly.  You should make it work for you.)  After about a minute, check the bread—if it looks dry, add a bit of butter to the pan…if it’s cooking too quickly (burning in spots) lower the heat.  Adjust the position of the bread if you pan/burner has hot/cold spots.  After about 2 minutes, the bread should be golden and crisp.  Flip it over and cook it the same way (covered) on the second side.

Labneh is yogurt cheese.  You can purchase it…or make your own.  I like to make my own with homemade whole milk yogurt (you can make it with purchased yogurt too).  Whisk 3/4 t. kosher salt into a quart of yogurt.  Line a strainer suspended over a bowl with some cheesecloth.  Scrape the yogurt into the cheesecloth and let drain (in the refrigerator).  The longer it drains, the thicker it will be.  I usually let it drain for 48 hours (and since I don’t want my strainer out of commission for that long, I gather the ends of the cheesecloth together and tie them in a knot and then slide a wooden spoon through the loop and suspend the bundle over a bowl and let it drain that way.)  But labneh comes in all kinds of textures.  It can be fairly soft (the texture of Greek yogurt)…or very thick (the texture of firm fresh goat cheese).  The longer it drains, the thicker it will be.  If you only let it drain for 6 hours or so, it will be soft.  Sometimes, I will make just a small “quick” amount (not even bothering to salt it and letting it drain for only an hour or two) if I want something soft and tangy to dollop on a grain salad.  For the toasts, I like the really thick stuff (48 hours)…and I have been in the habit of keeping a jar of it in my fridge.  It will keep for about a month.  You can also use the whey that drains off…for baking, cooking, etc.   A quick internet search will yield a multitude of uses.  A quart of yogurt will make about a cup and a half of thick labneh. 

The Vinaigrette:
Place 2 T. finely diced shallots in a small bowl and cover with 2 T. Sherry vinegar. Add a good pinch of salt and let sit for 5 to 10 minutes (or longer) so the shallots can soften.  Add 6 T. olive oil in a thin stream while whisking constantly.  Taste and correct the seasoning with salt & pepper.  Add more vinegar or olive oil to balance.  The dressing should be tangy.

The Salad (one serving):
1 slice of skillet fried bread
3 to 4 T. (or more, to taste) thick labneh
1 handful fine baby lettuces (arugula and claytonia, arugula alone, baby lettuces, etc—whatever you can find that is flavorful and perky), washed and spun dry
1 serving harissa-spiced carrots (see above)
2 large Medjool dates, halved, pitted and each half cut into four lengthwise strips
2 T. lightly toasted pistachios, coarsely chopped
A spoonful or two of sherry vinaigrette
Salt & pepper

While the toast cooks, place the greens in a bowl with the carrots, dates, and pistachios. 

Smear a generous quantity of labneh on the toast and place on a plate. 

Season the salad with salt and pepper and drizzle sparingly with the vinaigrette.  Toss carefully and gently to coat the greens.  Add more vinaigrette if the salad seems dry…but don’t add too much, the small tender greens can become soggy very quickly. 

Mound the salad on top of the toast, allowing some of the cheese covered toast to show and allowing the salad to spill over onto the plate.  Drizzle everything with more vinaigrette and serve with a knife and fork.

Serves 1

The salad is great with a quesadilla too!