Refreshing Coconut Ice Milk

Early last winter while working on a special dessert for a private dinner client I decided to look through some of my older cookbooks. While doing so, I ran across a recipe for coconut ice cream in Patricia Wells’ book Simply French. The recipe was so simple and so outside the realm of what I consider to be correct technique for ice cream that it made me question whether or not it would be a waste of my time to try it. I almost passed it by.

But the fact that this recipe was in Simply French gave me reason to pause. If you aren’t familiar with the book, it is—as the subtitle reveals—a presentation of the cuisine of Joel Robuchon, who was arguably one of the most influential chefs of the last century. Among other things he was known for his commitment to precise technique and to crafting dishes that let the ingredients “speak for themselves.” I wouldn’t call his food “simple”—because the techniques are generally not simple. But he was certainly a champion of using seasonal ingredients, and allowing those ingredients to shine. The book includes many of his classic presentations.

Beyond the source, I was persuaded to try the recipe because it was perfect for the dessert I wanted to make: Danish almond cake with a caramelized pineapple compote (the ice cream is served in the book with pineapple in a vanilla butter sauce).

As I said, the recipe is surprisingly simple: two cups of milk, one and one half cups of “sweetened coconut milk,” and a small amount of rum. Sweetened coconut milk could probably be a lot of things, but Wells says in the head notes of the recipe that they used Cóco Lopez at Robuchon’s restaurant Jamin. To me Cóco Lopez is “cream of coconut”—there is nothing milk-like about it—so I was grateful she gave this brand detail.

To make the ice cream, bring the milk to a boil, add the Cóco Lopez, strain the mixture (A signature Robuchon—and classic French—technique…everything that can be strained, usually gets strained, so that the final texture will be as suave as possible. In this case, you are straining out the skin that forms on the surface of boiled milk.), stir in the rum, chill, and freeze in an ice cream freezer.

I don’t know if the Cóco Lopez that is sold in the U.S. is different than what is sold in France, but I had to add a step. When you open a can of Cóco Lopez often you will find that the contents have separated into solidified fat (on the top) and a syrupy liquid on the bottom. I had to blend the milk/Cóco Lopez mixture with my immersion blender before I strained it so that the separated fat was emulsified back in.

The frozen results were incredibly delicious. Patricia Wells calls it ice cream…but to me the texture is more like ice milk. It is very light…and has the smooth texture of the creamiest of sorbets. It could probably be called coconut sorbet but for the fact that it includes dairy. The flavor isn’t super strong—although it is definitely identifiable. Since my least favorite thing about coconut is the texture, this ice milk is just about the perfect coconut treat.

The first time I made it, it was the dead of winter. But I knew it would make an amazingly refreshing summer treat. So early this summer, when I had some Coco Reál left over from a private dinner, I knew exactly what I would do with it.

Coco Reál is not identical to Cóco Lopez (which is considered to be the original “cream of coconut”). But for most things, I use them interchangeably. Coco Reál is slightly sweeter and it includes emulsifiers that keep it from separating into its fatty and liquid components. Some sources accuse Cóco Reál of including “chemical preservatives”—implying that this makes it an inferior product. But if you look at the labels for both products you will find they both include some unidentifiable preservatives. No one would accuse either company of packaging a health food.

In any case, I definitely like the fact that I didn’t have to get out my immersion blender to finish the ice milk base for the one made with Coco Reál. I also liked the flavor of the version made with Coco Reál a bit better. When made with Cóco Lopez, I find it has a slight—unidentifiable (to me, at least)—aftertaste. But I have made it subsequently (more than once) with both products, and it is delicious either way. I think that if you make it, you will be happy with either one.

The coconut ice milk is delicious all on its own…or with fruit. I particularly like it with the Bing cherry compote I used in my Bing Cherry & Chocolate Chip Semifreddo (another amazingly delicious and refreshing summer treat). I have also served it with plain, sugared fresh fruit (tropical fruits are especially good).

But my favorite thing to serve with it is the almond praline I made for that original dessert. There is something about the light crackle-y crunch…and the caramel-y almond flavor…that is just the perfect foil. Shaved chocolate or a chocolate syrup is a delicious go-with also. And of course, it is delicious with the Danish Almond Cake.

I’m glad I trusted my gut about the reliability of this old friend of a cookbook and gave this recipe a try. If you are interested in French food, this is a great cookbook to have on your shelf. And if you love coconut…and ice cream/ice milk/sorbet…you should definitely give this simple, sweet, and refreshing treat a try.

Coconut Ice Milk

2 c. whole milk

1 1/2 c. cream of coconut (Cóco Lopez, Coco Reál, or similar)

1 T. rum or Malibu (optional)

Place the milk in a saucepan and bring to a simmer. Remove from the heat and add the cream of coconut. If it appears lumpy, or separated, use an immersion blender (or transfer to a standard upright blender) to smooth it out/emulsify. Strain through a fine sieve into a bowl and stir in the Malibu. Chill until cold.

Freeze according to the instructions on your ice cream machine. When soft serve-like, transfer to a chilled freezer container and freeze. Makes a scant quart.

Notes: This produces a frozen dessert that starts to soften/thaw very quickly. Serve in chilled dishes…and store in the coldest part of your freezer.

(Recipe adapted from Simply French by Patricia Wells)

Printable Version

Almond Praline

3 T. (37g) sugar

1/2 c. (50g) sliced almonds

Spray a small cookie sheet with cooking spray…or oil lightly. Set aside.

Set a medium non-stick sauté pan (with a cooking surface that is about 8 inches in diameter) over medium-high. Scatter the sugar evenly over the surface of the pan 

and let melt—shaking back and forth occasionally to keep the sugar in an even layer. The melted sugar should be clear or a light amber color. If it is a dark amber, the heat is too high.

When the sugar is melted, scatter the almonds in an even layer over the sugar. Using a non-stick, heat proof spatula, stir (lifting, turning and pressing…as demonstrated in class) the nuts constantly. They will begin to take on a golden color in spots and the melted sugar will begin to darken. You are looking for a mostly uniform, deep golden coloration of the nuts and sugar. 

If the sugar/pan begins to smoke, reduce the heat. When the color is mostly uniform—this will only take about a minute to a minute and a half from when you add the nuts—remove from the heat and scrape onto the prepared tray. Use heat proof spatula to separate the nuts as much as possible. The praline will harden very quickly. If you wish the nuts to be more separate, use two oiled, heat proof spatulas to occasionally stir and separate them as they cool.

Makes about 3/4 cup

Printable Version   

Raspberry & Almond Tea Cake

Way back in June one of my dinner clients gave me some beautiful raspberries from their garden.  They were just perfect for eating with my yogurt for breakfast.  But I also couldn’t resist the idea of adding them to a cake to enjoy with that bowl of breakfast fruit and yogurt.  So I made a simple raspberry almond streusel cake (a slightly tweaked version of my yogurt coffee cake).  The cake was delicious…made even better by the spectacular raspberries.  But as I was enjoying it I got to thinking about how much I really like the combination of raspberries and almond…and how I would really like to have even more almond flavor in my cake.  I decided I needed to make more cake.

A second reason I wanted to make another cake was that the streusel cake I had made didn’t really have enough structure to stand up to the damp addition of berries in the long term.  It was fine the day I made it…but the streusel (and even the cake) got a bit soggy as it aged.  This would not have been a big deal if I had been making it and serving it all right away to a crowd (for a brunch, for example).  But since I keep my cakes on hand for a while…and always freeze most of the slices…this wasn’t really ideal.

I thought that the best way to strengthen the structure might be to add some more egg.  I tend to make cakes that have what some bakers might consider an insufficient quantity of egg.  Classic pound cake is the poster child for “balanced formula” cakes—balanced in that the ingredients that give strength/structure (eggs and flour) are balanced by ingredients that add tenderness (sugar and fat).  I find the classic formula for pound cake to be a bit rubbery—even tough—because of the volume of egg.  (Some recipes add more sugar…or butter…or replace some of the egg with another liquid to work around the rubbery/toughness factor).

Even considering my usual preference for softer textured cakes, I had a couple of reasons to think more egg was the direction I needed to go with my raspberry cake.  First, when I began thinking I wanted to increase the almond flavor in my cake, Danish almond cake (probably my all time favorite cake) immediately came to mind.  Danish almond cake has an intense almond flavor because it is made with almond paste.  It also has a high proportion of eggs. This higher volume of eggs doesn’t make the cake tough because the eggs are well balanced by the tenderizing effects of the almonds and sugar. 

Then, in my quest to find ways to incorporate raspberries in my cake, I ran across some delicious looking raspberry cupcakes in Sweet by Yotam Ottolenghi & Helen Goh. I noticed that they had used a higher proportion of eggs in their recipe. Helen Goh appears to be a precise baker (thoroughly testing all of her recipes)…I thought I wouldn’t go wrong by following her lead.  The cake I ended up making was essentially a cross between the cupcake recipe and the Danish almond cake recipe. 

When I finally got around to making my second version of the raspberry and almond cake, I decided that I was tired of always make streusel cakes for my breakfast cakes.  There is of course nothing wrong with streusel.  (I will continue to enjoy streusel cakes!)  But somehow for this particular cake a topping of toasted almonds—glued in place with a buttery, powdered sugar drizzle—seemed particularly appealing.  If you don’t want to go to the trouble of adding icing and almonds, I discovered the cake is also very nice—and kind of elegant—with a simple dusting of powdered sugar.

I love this simple little cake.  It has enough structure to slice beautifully and stand up to the moisture in the raspberries…yet it is still very tender and moist.  Best of all, it has a delightful almond flavor—a perfect backdrop for the tart raspberries.  If you like raspberries in combination with almonds, I think you will find it to be delicious—and just the thing…whether you like to enjoy your cake for breakfast...or a little later in the day.  

Raspberry & Almond Tea Cake

150 g. (1 1/3 c.) all-purpose flour
1/4 t. fine salt
1 t. baking powder
1/8 t. baking soda
175 g. (1 c. less 2 T.) granulated sugar
85 g./3 oz. almond paste, (not marzipan)
5 oz./10 T. unsalted butter, divided—5 T. at room temperature and 5 T. kept cold and cut into 5 chunks
1/2 t. almond extract
3 large eggs (150 g.), at room temperature
80 g./1/3 c. plain yogurt
7 to 8 oz. fresh raspberries, divided
Powdered sugar for dusting
1 recipe powdered sugar glaze (optional)
2/3 c. sliced almonds, lightly toasted (optional)

Preheat the oven to 350°.  Butter a 9- by 2-inch round cake pan.  Line the pan with a round of parchment, butter the parchment.  Flour the pan, knocking out the excess flour. 

Place the first four ingredients in a small bowl and whisk to aerate and combine.  Set aside. 

Place the sugar and almond paste in the bowl of a stand mixer and using the paddle attachment, mix on medium low to begin breaking up the almond paste.  Add the cold butter and increase the speed to medium high (you may need to put some plastic wrap around the mixer to prevent the almond paste, sugar and butter from being flung out of the bowl).  Beat until the mixture is smooth.  When no lumps of almond paste or butter remain, increase the speed to high and add the soft butter.  Cream until light and fluffy.  Scrape down the bowl add the almond extract and mix in.

Add the eggs one at a time, beating briefly on medium-high speed after each addition to return the batter to fluffiness and scraping down the sides before each next addition.  Fold in half of the dry ingredients, followed by the yogurt.  Add the remaining dry ingredients followed by 4 to 5 oz. of the raspberries on top of the dry.  

By hand fold in this remaining flour with the berries.  It is not necessary to be too gentle….the cake is actually kind of nice if some of the berries break up.  Don’t overdo it though…you don’t want pink batter.  

Turn the batter into the prepared pan.  Smooth the surface and scatter 3 oz. of berries evenly over the top.  

Transfer the cake to the oven and bake for about 40 minutes.  The cake is done when it is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Let the cake cool in the pan for 10 to 15 minutes.  Run a small palate knife around the edge and invert the cake onto a rack or plate.  Place a rack on the bottom and reinvert so that the cake cools right side up.  Cool completely. 

The cake may be served simply—dusted with powdered sugar and accompanied by whipped cream.  Or, serve as a brunch/breakfast cake by drizzling with a powdered sugar glaze and sprinkling with toasted almonds (see below).  Serves 10. 

Powdered sugar glaze:  In a small heat-proof/microwave safe bowl combine 1 c. (120 g.) powdered sugar with 2 T. melted butter, 1 1/2 T. heavy cream, 1/2 t. vanilla extract and 1/2 t. almond extract.   Stir with a rubber spatula until smooth.  This frosting “sets” as the melted butter cools.  If it is too stiff for drizzling right after mixing (from cold cream straight out of the fridge…or a chilly room…for example), gently warm until the consistency is right.  If you overdo it, just let it sit for a few minutes and it will start to thicken/firm up again. 

To decorate the cake, generously drizzle some of the glaze over the surface of the cake.  Sprinkle the toasted almonds over to cover (the glaze will act as a tasty kind of glue).  If you like, drizzle more glaze over the almonds in a uniform, back and forth (across the cake) motion.  (Or, dredge the almonds with powdered sugar.)  If you want to insure perfectly clean cuts, portion the cake and then apply the glaze and almonds as for the whole cake (the sliced almonds might cause the tender and soft cake to tear when you cut it).

Printable Version

Chicken with Dried Apricots, Green Olives & Almonds

Over the weekend a friend asked me what kinds of things I was cooking and what I was hungry for right now. We had been discussing my blog…and what I might be posting next. My first thought was that I wasn’t doing too much in the way of cooking at all. There are a lot of reasons for this. I’m tired from the busy season. I’m spending a lot of time catching up with friends (many of whom—including the friend who asked the question—work in my industry and are also coming up for air at the moment). This means I am eating out more than usual. I have also spent the first few days of the year digging myself out from under piles of paperwork and other things that got pushed to the side during the busy season. And I admit that I am plowing through all of this stuff at a rather leisurely pace… By the time dinner rolls around I am relying on the simple…and the tried & true (single ingredient pastas, soups, sandwiches, grain pilafs)—all things that I have already posted…or that are so simple and basic they don’t’ require a recipe.

My next thought was about the things I am truly hungry for this time of year. And it’s probably the same thing most of us are hungry for: rich braises and stews, slow roasts, hearty casseroles, all-day bean soups.... Foods that fill the house all afternoon with their good smells…and then warm you down to your toes when you finally sit down to the table. Foods like this are not difficult, but they do take a bit of advance planning….and my weekend was already well underway when I was having this conversation. 

As I was thinking about all these things, an image popped into my mind—a picture of a Moroccan-inspired chicken dish that I made a few years ago. (It must have been hovering there near the forefront of my mind after all the time I had spent going through some old pictures on my computer….) 



The recipe as I had made it was adapted only very slightly from the original in a winter issue of Martha Stewart Living. It is likely that I chose to make it the first time because it was a perfect intersection of the things I just described: It is simple and easy to make…and at the same time has the feel of the hearty and richly flavored foods I tend to crave during the early days of winter. 

Inspired by my conversation, I made it for dinner last night. I am happy to report that it was just as simple to make as I remembered. If you like Mediterranean flavors, you probably have the apricots, olives, almonds and spices on hand. If you cook regularly, it is also likely you have the carrots, onions and garlic at the ready. You might even have the chicken in your freezer (in which case, this would make a perfect snow day dinner!). As it happened, I did not have any chicken in my freezer, so I stopped on my way home from my coffee date with my friend and got some. And just as I remembered, once the ingredients were assembled, it was ready for the table in no time at all (…or in about an hour and fifteen minutes, to be more exact).

I have to admit that I find it difficult to believe that something that comes together so quickly can have such a rich flavor and unctuous texture. But it does. How great is that? And if you are craving this kind of dish—but just haven’t had the time to invest in a rich braise…or hearty casserole—I highly recommend that you add this one to your menu plans for some evening very soon.  

Chicken with Dried Apricots, Green Olives & Almonds

3 to 4 lbs chicken thighs

Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper 

Olive oil 

1 small red onion, halved and thinly sliced 

2 cloves garlic, sliced

1 lb. carrots, topped, tailed, peeled and cut on a long bias into 3-inch pieces (about 1/2- to 3/4-inch thick)

1 1/2 t. ground ginger 

3/4 t. ground cinnamon 

2 c. low-sodium chicken broth 

Zest of 1 orange

A generous pinch of saffron threads 

3/4 c. whole almonds, lightly toasted

3/4 c. dried apricots, halved crosswise if very large

1/2 c. green olives, pitted

1/2 c. lightly packed cilantro leaves, sliced into a rough chiffonade

Harissa, optional

Season chicken with salt and pepper (if time, do this up 12 to 24 hours ahead, cover loosely and store in the refrigerator). Heat a braiser pan or deep straight-sided skillet over medium-high heat; add enough oil to just coat the bottom of the pan (1 to 2 T.). Add the chicken, skin side down, and brown all over, in batches if necessary to keep from crowding the pan. Regulate the heat as necessary to maintain an active sizzle. This will take about 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a plate and pour off all but a tablespoon or so of fat from the pan. 

Reduce heat to medium; add onion, garlic, and carrots. Season lightly with salt (be careful, the olives will add a lot of salt). Cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is translucent, about 3 minutes. Stir in ginger and cinnamon and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds. 

Stir in broth, orange zest and saffron, scraping up browned bits from bottom of pan. Return chicken and accumulated juices to pan. Add the almonds, apricots and olives. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, partially covered, until a thermometer inserted in thickest part of the thigh (without touching bone) reads 180 degrees, 30 to 35 minutes. Remove from heat. Taste and correct the seasoning. You may stir the cilantro in, or scatter it over the finished dish. Serve with couscous or rice. Pass harissa if you like. Serves 6 

(Recipe adapted from Martha Stewart Living)

Printable Version

Pistachio & Strawberry Friands

I'm not sure when it was that I first saw a picture of one of the window displays at Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi's Restaurant "Ottolenghi" in London, but suffice it to say that I loved everything about what I saw:  the abundance...  the beautiful vegetables...  the variety of grains... and most of all the fantastical display of miniature desserts (cakes, tarts, meringues, cookies...).  I was...and still am...completely enamored.  Regular readers will know that I cook and bake under the influence of these two talented chefs all the time.  The little cakes I am posting today make frequent appearances in their displays, so I think it is safe to say that I first became aware of them because of my admiration for the Ottolenghi chefs.  This particular recipe is in fact adapted from one of theirs.

 
If you have never heard of a friand (pronounced fryʹ uhnd), let me introduce you.  Friands are little muffin-sized cakes that are popular in Australia and New Zealand.  The word Friand is actually French (pronounced freeʹ ahn) and means "tasty morsel".  The cakes themselves are almost identical to a French petit four called a financier.  Both cakes are made of roughly equal quantities of egg whites, melted butter, sugar and a blend of all purpose (plain) and nut flours. 

As far as I am able to tell, the most significant difference between them is twofold:  When making financiers, the melted butter is always browned first.  When making friands, it appears that the sugar used is always powdered (icing) sugar.  I would also add that in my experience, friands tend to have a higher percentage of sugar.  They are quite sweet.  I like to eat cake for breakfast, but I would probably not choose a friand for breakfast...they are definitely a tea time/dessert treat. 



Some will tell you that another difference is that friands usually have added fruit...sometimes bits of chocolate.  But since more and more you will see financiers made with added fruit, I'm not sure this distinction is particularly valid.  To be honest, I think the best definition is that the friand is the Down Under version of a financier.  A financier is, after all, a tasty morsel. 

Both financiers and friands are usually made with almond meal/flour.  But you can of course make them with all kinds of nut flours.  Almond flour is widely available these days...other nut flours, not so much.  Occasionally I will see hazelnut flour.  But I have never seen pistachio flour.  (Of course, that doesn't mean it isn't out there).  I use a drum-style rotary grater, fitted with the finest drum, to grind small quantities of nuts into nut flours.  You can attempt to grind nuts to a flour in your food processor, but even if you are able to do so without creating nut butter, you will find that instead of a fluffy, flour-like texture, you will have produced something that is rather oily and has the heavy texture of sand.  It might make an acceptable cake...but the texture would not be as light.   If you like to bake with nut flours, it is definitely worth seeking out a special nut grinder/grater of some kind. 

The texture of a friand is probably not what you might expect.  They are often compared to muffins, but their texture is not muffin-like at all.  They are tender and moist (like a good muffin)...but whereas a muffin is supposed to be light and airy, a friand is rich and dense (in fact, rather pound cake-like).  One of the particular qualities that I love in both financiers and friands is the browned, tender-chewy exterior crust.  If you were to try to dig in with your fork, you might decide you had encountered a tough or a hard cake.  But if you pick it up and eat it with your fingers, you will discover that it isn't in the slightest bit tough or hard.   Rather, it has a definite and pleasant chew before dissolving into sweet, nutty and buttery deliciousness in your mouth. 



The particular texture of the crust as I have described it is most pronounced on the day the friands are made.  After that, the exterior softens a bit.  It is still very good...just not the same.  Some might in fact prefer the texture on the second or third day.  Since the cakes can be iced with a powdered sugar glaze that tends to dissolve when it comes in contact with moisture—like the moisture in the fruit scattered over the top of the cake—it is best to ice the cakes on the day they will be served.  It is not the end of the world if the icing dissolves a bit, it's just not as pretty (they still taste great).  You can also forgo the icing altogether and serve the cakes with nothing more than a dusting of powdered sugar.

An iced friand on the second day...  you can see bits of strawberry
 peeking through where the icing has begun to dissolve...

Finally, for those of you who have been following my blog for a long time now, you might realize that the presence of a pistachio cake can only mean one thing.  That's right...an anniversary.  I began keeping For Love of the Table seven years ago today.  Ever since the first anniversary I have always posted something pistachio on the day (most often a cake).  It's difficult to believe it has been so long.  I will have to sit down to a bite of cake to mark the occasion.  I hope you will vicariously join me.  And, I hope you will continue to visit For Love of the Table...where, for the foreseeable future, I will continue to share all kinds of delicious things to cook and bake...so that you will be able to share them with the people you love...at your table.

   

Pistachio & Strawberry Friands

185g unsalted butter melted and cooled (170g plus 15g for brushing the pans)

75g all purpose flour

40g finely ground almonds (almond meal/flour)

85g finely ground pistachios

225g powdered sugar, sifted

1/4 t. salt

180g egg whites (from 6 eggs)

1 t. orange zest

110g strawberries, washed, dried, hulled and cut into a 1/4-inch dice

1 recipe strawberry glaze (below), optional

3 to 4 T. chopped toasted pistachios for garnish, optional

Powdered sugar for garnish, optional

Preheat the oven to 350°F

Use a tablespoon (15g) of the melted butter to generously brush the bottoms and sides of the pan(s) (see note).  This buttery coating helps create the crisp edges that are one of the special characteristics of a friand.  Chill the pan(s) to firm up the butter.

Place all of the dry ingredients in a medium bowl and whisk to combine. Set aside.

Place the egg whites in a medium bowl and using a clean whisk, whip the whites until very frothy/foamy. It isn't necessary to whip them to soft peaks—you just want to loosen them up a bit. 

Spread the dry ingredients over the top of the egg whites.  Add the zest to the cooled butter and pour this mixture over the dry ingredients.  Fold all the ingredients into the egg whites, mixing just until the batter is smooth and uniform.  You may use the batter immediately or cover and chill for a day or two.

Divide the batter among the pans using an ice cream scoop.  Fill each of the pans 2/3 to 3/4 of the way up.  Scatter the strawberries over the top of each of the cakes, dividing evenly.  (If any of the berries are touching the edges of the pans, use a fork to gently pull them away from the edge.)

Place the pan(s) on a baking sheet and place in the middle of the preheated oven (if your baking sheet is very thick or heavy, place it in the oven while the oven is preheating and then just place the cake pans directly on the preheated sheet). Bake for 20 to 35 minutes (depending on the size and depth of your pan) until the friands have risen, are golden around the edges and springy to the touch.  A skewer inserted into the center of one should come out clean. 

Take the friands out of the oven and leave them to cool in the pans for 3 to 5 minutes.  Don't allow them to stay too long in the molds or they will stick.  Turn the cakes out (running a sharp knife around the edges first if they seem to want to stick).  Transfer the cakes to a wire rack to cool.

To finish:  Dredge the cooled cakes with powdered sugar or ice them with the strawberry glaze.  To glaze the cakes, place them on a wire rack set over a baking sheet.  Drop a blob of glaze on the top of each cake and spread out to the edges, allowing it to slowly drip down the sides.  Before the glaze is set, sprinkle the top of each cake with a few chopped pistachios. 

Un-iced, the friands will keep—in an airtight container—for several days.  Glazing/icing should be done on the day they will be served. 

Note on pans:  You may use any shape of small, muffin-sized cake tin that you like as long as you butter it well and don't fill it any more than 2/3 to 3/4 full.  You can use a muffin pan...or small loaf pans.  I use a couple of individual cheesecake pans.  These are similar to 6 cup muffin tins, but have straight sides and removable bottoms.  The holes in my pans are two inches deep and 2 3/4 inches in diameter.  I only fill them about half full (75g batter each) because I don't want the cakes to be too large.  The recipe makes 10 cakes of this size.  You could probably use individual porcelain/china/stoneware ramekins too.

Strawberry Glaze:

55g. strawberries, washed, dried and hulled

1 T. milk

1/2 t. lemon juice

225g. powdered sugar

Place the berries in a small bows and smash with a fork.  Pass through a fine sieve, pressing the pulp against the sides.  Measure out 25 grams of strained strawberry purée.  Place the powdered sugar in a small bowl and add the measured berry purée, the milk and the lemon juice.  Stir with a rubber spatula to make a thick, smooth glaze.  It should be just thick enough so that it will slowly drip down the sides of the cakes when spread on the top.  Adjust the consistency with milk, strawberry purée or powdered sugar.  Cover with plastic wrap until ready to use.

Recipe adapted from Ottolenghi and Waitrose

Printable Version

What's in Season?... Blood Oranges

Over the years, For Love of the Table has turned out to be a lot of things...some planned, some not.  Always food, cooking and table related...but also covering a wide ranging array of topics.  I have focused on basic techniques...and because I am always learning, I have also covered not-so-basic techniques.  I have posted complicated recipes appropriate for a formal meal (from my private dinner service) or a weekend project...as well as things that were simply what I happened to be eating and enjoying at the moment.  There have been many posts for foods so simple they don't really require a recipe.  As for a theme...if you discount the fact that a preponderance of the posted recipes reflect my personal addictions to cake and pasta...I think it's fair to say that my blog is almost always about enjoying the abundance of each season.  So this past Christmas when my good friend Bonnie gave me a handmade calendar (created and drawn by her daughter Johanna) that celebrated a single fresh food each month, I knew I had not only a lovely calendar, I also had inspiration for at least one post a month.

For January, Johanna chose blood oranges.  What a perfect way to start the year!  Blood oranges begin to trickle into the stores in December, but they don't really hit their stride and peak until January and February...finally tapering off in March and April.  At a time of year when the bright and cheerful colors of the holidays have abruptly faded into the muted and sometimes depressing grays of winter, their brilliant red flesh is a welcome sight.  A glass of freshly squeezed blood orange juice will give the most ordinary breakfast a special feel.

Blood oranges of course taste of orange...but at the same time seem to have more depth.  They can be very sweet...but also often have a pleasantly tart edge.  I think it is this rich, sweet-tart character...combined with their ruby red coloring...that causes many to say that they have a raspberry-like flavor.  I'm not sure I would go that far...but they definitely have a "something more" about them.  They are apparently the most popular of all the orange varieties in their native Italy and once tasted seem to inspire fervent allegiance.  I was surprised when I purchased my first of the season last week to observe the holiday-weary and rather glassy-eyed clerk at the checkout suddenly perk up as she rang them through, exclaiming "I didn't know they were here!  I LOVE blood oranges"...

As noted above, blood oranges make wonderful juice.  And they are also beautiful in desserts...tarts and upside down cakes being two places where they really shine.  But I love them best in salads.   You can use them in any salad where you would normally use a navel orange:  with fennel...red onions....beets....avocado...olives....arugula....all manner of endives....pomegranate.....grapefruit and tangerines....  You get the idea.  I posted a citrus, avocado and olive salad a couple of years ago that featured slices of blood orange.  If you have never cut an orange into pinwheels or filets, that particular post includes some basic instructions on how to do just that. 

Today, I wanted to share one of my very favorite salads from Suzanne Goin's book Sunday Suppers at Lucques.  Goin created this salad as a showcase for the blood orange.  This is one of those recipes that really isn't a recipe.  As she points out, it's more of a tapestry....an artful arrangement of delicious and beautiful foods on the plate.  Her recipe has a definite Italian feel....whereas my version is more Spanish, featuring Manchego cheese (instead of Parmesan) and Marcona almonds.  You should feel free to alter the specific ingredients to suit your tastes...and your pantry.

I was so inspired as I flipped through the beautiful drawings in Johanna's calendar.  It is my hope during the coming months....as I occasionally share a recipe that features the ingredient she chose to represent a particular month....that you will be inspired too.  Happy New Year. 

Blood Oranges, Dates, Manchego & Marcona Almonds

15 Deglet Noor dates (see note)

4 blood oranges

4 oz. chunk Manchego (see note)

2 oz. arugula or other spicy green

Freshly squeezed lemon juice

Extra Virgin Olive oil (see note)

1/2 c. Marcona almonds (see note)

Fleur de Sel

Freshly ground black pepper

Cut the dates in half and remove the pits. If you like, cut the halves lengthwise.

Slice the stem and blossom ends from the blood oranges.  Place each fruit cut side down on the cutting board and following the contour of the fruit with your knife, remove the peel and cottony pith—working from top to bottom, and rotating the fruit as you go.  Slice each orange thinly into 8 to 10 pinwheels, discarding any seeds that you find.  Place the orange slices in a bowl and set aside.

Place the Manchego, flat side down, on a cutting board.  Using a chef’s knife, shave large thin slices of cheese from the chunk. 

Place the arugula in a bowl and give it a squeeze of lemon and a light drizzle of olive oil.  Scatter one third of the arugula on a large platter (or divide among individual plates).  Arrange one-third of the oranges, dates, cheese and nuts.  Scatter another layer of arugula, and continue layering in the same manner, letting the ingredients intertwine together.  Finish by drizzling more olive oil over the salad and seasoning lightly with fleur de sel, pepper.  If you like, drizzle some of the blood orange juice remaining in the bowl over all.  Serves 4 to 6

Notes:

• If Deglet Noor dates are unavailable, use Medjool. Medjool are larger and softer….so use 8 and cut them in quarters or sixths (lengthwise) rather than in halves or quarters. Medjool dates are easier to cut when they have been refrigerated. 
• In the original recipe, Goin uses almond oil. If you have almond oil, use it, otherwise, a nice Extra Virgin olive oil is fine. 
• If you don't have Marcona almonds, simply use regular almonds, roasting them yourself. Spread the almonds on a small baking sheet. Place in a preheated 350° oven and bake until slightly darkened and fragrant. Set aside to cool. 

(Recipe adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin)

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