Showing posts with label Blood Orange. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blood Orange. Show all posts

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. 

Notes:  
  • 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, April 21, 2017

Rhubarb & Browned Butter Bars


I wish I had the story...or at least a small anecdote...to share about how today's recipe came to be, but the truth is most of the details are lost to me now.  I developed these bars for a class that I taught a year ago, and although I usually make detailed notes about the progression of a recipe, I have discovered that with this recipe, either I didn't make very good notes...or I have somehow misplaced them...   What I found in my files was pretty cursory.  This is really rather unfortunate because I do know from the notes that I have—and my memory of the process—that I made no less than four versions of these bars before finally landing on the one I liked best. 

What I can tell you is that I started out with the Rhubarb Browned Butter Bars from The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook.  The rhubarb jam from this original recipe is outstanding...and I used it unchanged.   Instead of just cooking the rhubarb with the sugar to a thick compote, this recipe directs you to reduce orange juice with the sugar to a caramel before adding the rhubarb.  




This method produces a concentrated and intensely flavorful jam.  If you are able to get the blood oranges called for, the color of the jam will be spectacular....although Cara cara oranges produce a beautiful result too.  



But even if you can only get plain old Navel oranges, this jam is worth making while rhubarb is in season—just to have on hand to spread on toast...or scones...  or stir into your breakfast yogurt. 

I also love the use of browned butter in the original recipe.  If you have never experienced browned butter, you are in for a treat.  It is also a "stand alone" kind of preparation—delicious with fish...and pasta (particularly filled pastas and gnocchi)...or drizzled over vegetables (especially asparagus). I sometimes slip it into desserts and baked goods where it adds a nutty, complex undertone.  I used it in my Butter Pecan Ice Cream.  If you haven't made browned butter before, I included a picture and a few pointers for making it in that post. 



The recipe I ultimately used for sandwiching the jam was adapted from Gale Gand's Hungarian Shortbread Bars (from Baking with Julia).  Besides substituting chilled browned butter for the whole butter called for in her recipe, I reduced the total quantity of dough by a quarter.  The shortbread portion of these bars is delicious...but I didn't want it to overwhelm that special rhubarb jam.  Furthermore, I opted for pre-baking the bottom crust since this produced a bar that was slightly firmer and more stable for picking up and eating with your hands.  But make no mistake, this is not a firm or a crisp bar cookie...it is soft, tender and cake-like. In fact, if you were so inclined, you could cut larger squares and serve them topped with scoops of ice cream for a more substantial, eat-with-a-fork kind of dessert.

This will be the third jam/fruit compote-filled crumble bar recipe that I have posted (I love these kinds of cookies).  In general, I think of this style of bar as quick and easy to make—and certainly the first two that I posted fit this description.  This bar fits the mold in that it is fairly easy to make.  Unlike the others though, it is not particularly quick since you have to make it in several separate steps.  I find that it works best to make the jam and the browned butter the day before you want to bake and serve the bars.  You could get away with making these two components in the morning before baking in the afternoon—but the process will feel more calm and leisurely if you take a two day approach.  Either way, these bars are delicious.  And if you love the bright, tangy flavor of rhubarb, I think you will find the extra time involved to be totally worth it.


  
Rhubarb & Browned Butter Bars

3/4 lb. (3 sticks) unsalted butter
3 1/2 c. (420 grams) all-purpose flour
1 1/2 t. baking powder
3/4 t. salt
1 1/4 c. (250 grams) granulated sugar
3 egg yolks
1/4 c. ice water
1 1/2 t. vanilla
1 1/2 c. rhubarb jam (see below)

Place the butter in a wide pan set over medium heat. As the butter begins to sputter and pop, whisk occasionally. The butter solids will begin to turn brown. When the solids are a deep golden brown and the butter has a pleasantly nutty aroma, immediately transfer to a shallow heat-proof container (a 9- by 9-inch baking pan or casserole works well).  Chill or freeze until solid.


When ready to bake the bars, butter a 13- by 9-inch baking pan—concentrating most of the butter on the sides.  Line the bottom of the pan with a square of parchment (it is not necessary to butter the parchment).  Set aside.

Place the flour, baking powder salt and sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer.  With the paddle attachment, mix on low just until homogenous.  Cut the cold, browned butter into cubes and add to the bowl. 



Mix on low to medium-low until the mixture looks like damp cornmeal...there shouldn't be any large clumps of butter visible.  This will take anywhere from two to five minutes, depending on the temperature of your room.  


Whisk the yolks, water and vanilla together and drizzle in with the machine running.  Mix until the dough comes together in clumps. 


Transfer half of the clumps (540 grams/19 oz.) into the bottom of the prepared pan.  


Bake in a 350° oven until pale golden around the edges—about 15 to 18 minutes.  


Cool the crust to room temperature before proceeding.

While the bottom crust bakes, gather the remaining half of the dough and knead briefly to bring together.  Press into a flat disk (about 1 inch thick), wrap in plastic wrap and place in the freezer until firm—about 30 to 45 minutes.  (If you freeze it for longer than this and it becomes rock hard, let it sit out for a few minutes before attempting to grate it.)


To build the bars, spread the cold rhubarb jam in an even layer over the cooled crust, spreading to within 1/4- to 1/2-inch of the edges of the pan.  


Using the coarse holes of a box grater (or, you may use the grating disc of the food processor), grate the chilled dough evenly over the jam (or grate onto parchment and use the parchment to transfer and scatter the dough over the jam).  


Do not press down—just make sure the bits of dough are spread in a reasonably even layer.  Transfer to a 350° oven and bake until golden and springy to the touch in the center—about 35 to 40 minutes.  


Place the pan on a wire rack and immediately dredge thickly with powdered sugar.  Cool completely before cutting.



Makes 32 to 48 bar cookies...or 12 large dessert squares.

Rhubarb Jam:
Juice and zest of 2 oranges (see note)
1 c. (200 grams) sugar
1 lb. rhubarb (4 to 6 stalks), trimmed, rinsed well and cut into 1/2-inch pieces (you should have 3 1/2 to 3 3/4 c.—350 to 375 grams—prepared rhubarb)


Place the juice, zest and sugar in a medium saucepan.  Bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high to high heat.  Continue to cook until the syrup begins to turn a pale caramel color around the edges of the pot.  Add the rhubarb.  Continue to cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the rhubarb becomes a thick, smooth and glossy jam—about 10 minutes.  Transfer to a clean container and chill.  You should have 1 1/2 cups—or 1 lb.—of jam.


Note:  The original recipe called for Blood oranges.  I have made this with Blood, Cara cara and plain old Navel oranges.  It is good no matter which kind you choose.  It is especially beautiful...and a bit sweeter...if made with blood oranges.  I imagine Valencia oranges would be exceptional.  You should get 1/2 to 3/4 c. strained juice from 2 oranges.

(Rhubarb Jam from The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook)

Monday, January 4, 2016

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)