Salted Mixed Nut Brittle—The Best Nut Brittle Ever

Lest you think that I'm tooting my own horn, let me assure you that "Best-Ever Nut Brittle" was the exact title of this recipe when it was published in a December issue of Food & Wine a few years back. I love this remarkable recipe and think more people should know about it. The recipe is an adaptation of a recipe by Karen DeMasco, the pastry chef at New York City's Craft. I would be interested in seeing the original, but I have a hard time imagining that it is any better. As is, it truly is the best brittle I have ever made or eaten.

So, what makes it the best? I am inclined to think that it is the unusual use of salted, roasted nuts. The salt is a wonderful addition, complimenting the flavor of both the caramelized sugar and the nuts.  And since most nut brittles use raw nuts, I can only assume that the use of roasted nuts also contributes to the superiority of this brittle.  In typical peanut brittle recipes the raw nuts are added in the early stages of the cooking process. They are effectively cooked as the sugar syrup cooks, imparting their flavor to the candy brittle in the process. You would think that this would produce the best flavored brittle...but apparently this is not true. Of course, the presence of cashews, almonds, pecans and hazelnuts in addition to the more usual peanuts doesn't hurt the final product either.

Another important difference in this recipe is the amount of butter used. Most brittle recipes that I have come across use very little butter...and some don't use any. The relatively large quantity of butter in this recipe pushes its flavor and texture in the direction of toffee. Although, I don't think someone tasting this for the first time would think they were eating toffee. They would just think they were eating the best brittle they had ever put in their mouth.

I have only made one small change to this recipe. Since the nuts are added at the end, if they have been kept at a cool room temperature, their addition causes the brittle to become very stiff immediately. I place the nuts in a 300° oven when the sugar syrup starts to boil—this way, when they are added to the syrup, they are the same temperature as the syrup. The brittle stays fluid for a longer period of time and is consequently much easier to spread out into a thin layer.

I would only emphasize a couple of other things for the novice candy maker. Every time you make candy from a recipe that begins with dissolving sugar in water (alone or along with other ingredients), always make sure that all of the sugar is dissolved before you begin to boil the mixture. And always brush down the sides of the pan with a pastry brush dipped in water (or a folded paper towel dipped in water if you don't own a pastry brush) to dissolve any remaining sugar granules. Do this even if the recipe doesn't direct you to. Even one undissolved granule of sugar left in the pan can encourage the entire batch of candy to re-crystallize—either while it is cooking or while it is cooling. As a further protection against crystallization, I never put my candy thermometer into the pan until all of the sugar is dissolved. To protect the thermometer from possible damage caused by a rapid change temperature change, I hold it in a glass of very hot water until I need it. 

I have been making and giving this brittle for Christmas gifts every year since I discovered the recipe. I encourage you to make a batch (or two...or three...) and give it away to your family and friends. In the coming years you will experience a surge of pleasure when you give it to someone again and see a pair of eyes light up when they recognize "the" nut brittle.

Salted Mixed Nut Brittle

2 c. sugar
½ c. water
4 oz. (1 stick) unsalted butter
1/3 c. light corn syrup (110 g)
½ t. baking soda
12 oz. roasted salted mixed nuts (peanuts, cashews, pistachios, hazelnuts, pecans and/or almonds)
Fleur de sel (or substitute another coarse sea salt)

In a large saucepan, combine the sugar, water, butter and corn syrup and cook over moderate heat until the sugar dissolves. Wash down the sides of the pan with a pastry brush dipped in water. Increase the heat to medium high and bring to a boil.

Continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until the caramel is light brown and registers 300°F on a candy thermometer—about 10 minutes. Remove from the heat and carefully stir in the baking soda. The mixture will bubble and foam. Stir in the nuts, then immediately scrape the brittle onto a large rimmed baking sheet—either non-stick or well greased (grease the sheet before you begin to cook the brittle so it will be ready when the candy is). Using the back of a large, oiled spoon or heat-proof spatula, spread the brittle into a thin, even layer (the mixture will be stiff, so you’ll have to work at it a bit). Sprinkle with the fleur de sel. Let cool completely, about 30 minutes.

Break into pieces and store air-tight.

Makes slightly less than 2 pounds brittle.

(From Food & Wine, December 2007)

Note: The brittle goes together more easily if you place the nuts in a 300° oven while the syrup boils—that way the nuts don’t bring down the temperature of the candy syrup when they are added.





Cranberry Pistachio Biscotti—a Favorite Christmas Cookie

The month seems to be getting away from me a bit. I had intended to post several recipes for Christmas cookies and candies and have just been too busy to do it. I have been baking...just not taking pictures. This week I taught my annual Christmas cookie class at The Community Mercantile in Lawrence. I did manage to take some "in process" pictures of the Christmas version of my biscotti, so that's the recipe I will share here today.

I have always loved to bake and share Christmas cookies—long before I ever considered cooking for a living. As a chef, I have in some years been way too busy to do much personal baking for friends and family. This class gives me a chance to satisfy my desire to have an annual holiday cookie baking extravaganza whether I have time for it or not. Even in years when I don't get to make all the cookies I want to for my family and friends, by teaching this class I get to share eight of my favorite recipes with people who will in turn make them and share them with others.

Here are all of the doughs, ready and waiting to be rolled, molded and other-wise shaped and baked during class:



Even if you aren't teaching a class, setting aside a day to prepare all of the different doughs for all of your cookies before beginning to bake will help you to use your time more efficiently.

Here are the cookies left after the second night of class—ready to be packaged and wrapped air tight:

The biscotti recipe that I teach in my class is the best that I have ever found. Biscotti are supposed to be dry—they are baked, sliced and then baked again (the word biscotti means "twice baked") in order to insure that they will be dry. They are then meant to be dunked and softened (in espresso, tea, coffee or Vin Santo) when they are eaten. Because they are dry, they will keep for long periods of time. Unfortunately, I find traditional biscotti to be too hard. My recipe has a higher percentage of fat than is usual. Although most modern versions use some butter (or oil), in the most traditional recipes, there is no fat at all other than the fat that is provided by the egg yolks. The extra butter in my recipe gives the cookies a much more tender crunch.  They are still dry and thus perfect for storing and dunking, but they are also pretty nice to munch on when you don't have any coffee or tea handy.

I'm not quite sure of the origin of this recipe. I believe that I got it from my friend Kathy—a truly gifted pastry chef who worked at The American Restaurant at the same time I did. But since she went on to open her own pastry shop, and this isn't the recipe that she used there, I'm not really sure that this is her recipe. Unfortunately, the origins of recipes are frequently mysterious. Since this is an exceptional biscotti recipe, I would have liked to credit the source.

The original version of the recipe as I received it included the pistachios and orange zest. The dried cranberries were my Christmas addition. At other times of the year I replace the pistachios with blanched almonds and the dried cranberries with chopped semi-sweet chocolate. You could of course come up with your own combinations of nuts, dried fruits, chocolates, spices and citrus zests. But no matter how you vary the "additions", I think that you will find, as I have, that even people who declare that they don't like biscotti, will like these.

Cranberry Pistachio Biscotti

2 1/4 c. all-purpose flour (270g)
1 1/2 t. baking powder
1/4 t. salt
3 oz. (3/4 c.) toasted pistachios, coarsely chopped
3 oz. (2/3 c.) dried cranberries
1/2 c. (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 c. plus 2 T. sugar (175g)
Zest of 1 large orange

2 eggs

1 t. vanilla extract

milk for brushing

Turbinado sugar for sprinkling

Combine the flour, baking powder, salt, nuts and cranberries; set aside.

Cream butter, sugar and orange zest until fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Beat in the vanilla. Stir in the dry ingredients just until incorporated.

Divide the dough into three pieces. On a lightly floured work surface, form each piece into a 1- to 1 1/2-inch log—each log will be about the same length as the cookie sheet. Set the logs on the parchment lined cookie sheet about 4-inches apart (you may need to bake in 1 batch of 2 and 1 batch of 1 log). Flatten slightly. Brush the logs with milk and sprinkle generously with Turbinado sugar.


Bake in a 325° oven until set & golden brown—about 25 minutes. Remove from the oven and cool for 5 minutes. Slice on the diagonal into 1/2-inch slices.   (Note: The cookies must be sliced while they are warm, or they will crumble.)

Lay the slices on their sides and return the sheets to the oven for another 5 minutes. Turn the cookies over and bake for another 5 minutes. Cool completely before wrapping air tight. Makes about 50 small biscotti.

Note: For larger biscotti, divide the dough in two and form two fatter logs. You will have about 3 dozen medium-sized biscotti.






Chocolate Truffle Squares with Candied Orange Peel

While trying to come up with a dessert to take to a pot luck buffet I attended this weekend, I remembered an intensely chocolate tart with candied clementine peel from an old issue of Gourmet. If you already have the candied peel (I did), the tart is super fast and easy to make. Since I also wanted a dessert that could be cut into one- or two-bite portions for picking up and eating out of hand, I decided to convert the recipe to fit a quarter sheet pan (or a 13- by 9-inch pan) so that it could be cut into small squares. The conversion was a simple matter of multiplying the recipe one and one half times. The dessert turned out so well that I thought I would share the recipe here.

The original tart uses a crumb crust made of digestive biscuits. Digestives are plain tea time cookies ("biscuits") from England. I love them. I suppose the closest thing we have to a digestive in this country is a graham cracker. But I have to say a graham cracker is a poor imitation—there is much more substance and flavor to a digestive than there is to a graham cracker. Having said that, I didn't happen to have any digestives on hand...if I ever have them around, I eat them...so I made a simple graham cracker crust instead. If you have the time and the inclination, the digestives are worth seeking out. McVitie's is my favorite brand. Simply use the crust recipe in the original recipe, remembering to increase it by half.

The filling of the tart is nothing more than ganache, reinforced with egg yolks. Classic ganache is made with equal quantities of heavy cream and chocolate. The cream is brought to a simmer and then poured over the chopped chocolate. The heat of the cream melts the chocolate—all you have to do is whisk or stir it until it is smooth. At room temperature, ganache holds a soft shape. Like ganache, the filling for the tart is made of equal quantities of heavy cream and chocolate, but instead of pouring the hot cream directly over the chocolate it is first combined and cooked briefly with some egg yolks. This thickens the cream and helps the final tart filling set up firmly enough to cut cleanly and hold its shape at room temperature.

Be careful when you are cooking the yolk-cream mixture. It will thicken very quickly—especially if you accidentally allowed the cream to come to a full boil before adding it to the yolks. If the yolk-cream mixture gets hotter than 180°, you will have scrambled yolks floating in cream rather than a nice thick creamy custard.

Since ganache is what truffles are made of, I decided to call my dessert "Chocolate Truffle Squares with Candied Orange Peel".   And since truffles can be flavored with all kinds of things, the possibilities for flavor variations are almost without limit. I love chocolate and orange together, but maybe next time I will make Mocha Truffle Squares, or Chocolate Truffle Squares with Praline, or...

Chocolate Truffle Squares with Candied Orange Peel

Graham Cracker Crust:
7 1/2 oz. graham crackers, finely ground (to make 2 cups crumbs)
4 1/2 T. granulated sugar
7 1/2 T. unsalted butter, melted (see note)

Line a 13- by 9-inch baking pan (or a quarter sheet pan) with foil, leaving an overhang. Butter or spray the foil. Combine the crust ingredients until homogenous and press into the pan in a compact even layer.

Use a measuring cup (or some other flat-bottomed glass or mug) to press the crumbs into a compact even layer

Bake in a pre-heated 350° oven until just beginning to brown—10 to 12 minutes. Cool.

Filling:
3 large egg yolks
2 c. heavy cream (450 g.)
16 oz. (450 g.) fine-quality bittersweet chocolate (no more than 60%), finely chopped
3/4 c. (125 g.) finely chopped candied orange peel, plus extra for garnish

Lightly beat yolks in a small bowl. Bring cream to a simmer in a 2-quart heavy, saucepan and remove from heat. Add about one third of hot cream to yolks in a slow, thin stream, whisking constantly, then pour yolk mixture into remaining cream, whisking.

Return the custard to a moderately low heat and cook, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or heat-proof rubber spatula, until it is thick enough to coat back of spoon and registers 170°F on thermometer, 1 to 2 minutes (do not let boil). Remove from heat and add chopped chocolate, whisking until smooth. Stir in chopped candied peel.

Pour filling evenly over crust and chill, uncovered, until firm, at least 2 hours. Lift out of the pan using the foil, trim the edges and cut into 48 small squares, using a thin sharp knife. For beautiful clean-edged squares, dip the knife into hot water and wipe it clean on a towel in between each cut.

Garnish each square with some of the reserved chopped candied peel. Serve chilled or at cool room temperature.

 (Recipe adapted from Gourmet Magazine, January 2005)

Note (added 1 Jan 2011):  Crust recipe as originally posted called for 6 T. melted butter.  I have changed it to 7 1/2 T.  The larger amount of butter makes the crust easier to work with—both when pressing it into the pan, and when slicing and serving the truffle squares.

Printable Version

Brandied Fruit & Almond Pound Cake

One of the many things I learned when I lived in London (while at cooking school) was that the British actually like fruit cake—or Christmas Cake as it is more commonly called there. This surprised me because my experience with fruit cake was not at all favorable. Like most Americans I thought of fruit cake as an annual joke...something one might give as a gag gift. Something else I learned in cooking school was that if I didn't like a food, it was probably because I had never had it prepared properly.  When I discovered that Christmas cake was well-liked in England, I wanted to have the opportunity to taste a properly made cake so that I could find out if I liked it too.

An Australian friend and fellow student shared her recipe with me along with detailed notes on how to prepare it and vary it to suit my available ingredients. The following fall, after I had returned home, I made her cake. My friend had told me that her recipe was a fairly typical one and over the years as I have looked at other recipes for Christmas cake, I have found this to be true. The fruit portion of a British Christmas cake is made up mostly of dried fruits (different kinds of raisins, figs, currants) along with a smaller portion of mixed candied peels and candied cherries. In my experience it was these candied fruits that made up most of the fruit portion of American-style fruit cakes—and the candied fruits used were almost always pretty awful. The candied fruits available in Europe and the British Isles are of a much higher quality. When I made her cake, I sought out imported candied fruits so that all of the ingredients in my cake would be as fine as possible. After making the cake, I dutifully fed it with brandy every week, looking forward to when I would be able to sample my project at Christmas.

I think the fruit cake I made was probably pretty good—certainly better than any fruit cake I had ever had before. I remember that my Dad enjoyed it. But we never did eat all of it (it was a very big cake). Making it gave me an appreciation and respect for fruit cake that I hadn't had before. Today, if I were served a slice of good Christmas cake, I would eat it and enjoy it. But since I didn't grow up with it, it doesn't really seem like "cake" to me. Traditional fruit cakes appear to be mostly fruit (and nuts) with just enough cake to hold the fruit and nuts together. When I eat cake, I really want to eat cake. I love dried fruit, so the idea of a nice cake that contained lots of brandy-spiked dried fruit was very appealing to me. I was a bit disappointed to find that this really isn't what fruit cake, in its traditional form, is.

A few years later I ran across a recipe for "Brandied Currant Tea Bread" in a little book called Tea Breads & Coffee Cakes by Elizabeth Alston. In her description of the recipe, she says "This is what a fruit cake should taste like but never does." Because Elizabeth Alston was raised in England I sat up and took notice. This little cake was excellent—mostly cake, studded with brandy-soaked currants. I particularly liked the fact that the cake was made with white sugar and without spices. This actually makes the cake considerably different from the dark, spice-laden Christmas cakes of Britain. For a while, this recipe was my "fruit cake".

Several years back, Gourmet magazine published a recipe they called "Holiday Fruit-filled Pound Cake"—clearly a euphemism employed to trick fruit cake-wary Americans into trying it. In many ways it was similar to Ms. Alston's tea bread, but instead of using currants alone, it used a mixture of colorful dried fruits, including apricots, cranberries and golden raisins. This cake was good too. Interestingly enough though, it had too much fruit for me—even though it still had much less fruit than a traditional Christmas cake.

I decided to combine the two recipes. My version uses the mixed fruits from the Gourmet recipe—reduced somewhat in quantity. I have also included some homemade candied orange peel in my cake. While reading up on fruit cakes, I discovered that the flavor profile of this adapted cake is actually quite similar to a traditional Scottish fruit cake called a Dundee Cake. Named after the Scottish city of Dundee, it is a light colored fruit cake that is flavored with almonds. Like its British counterparts though, in its traditional form it has a much greater quantity of fruit than I would find acceptable.

When you make this Brandied Fruit & Almond Pound Cake (observe the use of the word "when"), you will notice that there is a total of 1 1/2 cups of dried fruit and candied peel in the recipe. If you prefer less fruit, I have successfully made the cake without the candied orange peel and with as little as 1 cup of dried fruit. If you like more fruit, I think that you could probably increase the total amount of fruit to 2 cups without altering the cake's pound cake-like character too much. Other dried fruits could be added or substituted for those I have used...dried tart cherries, dark raisins and chopped dried figs come to mind.

As far as the actual process of mixing up the cake is concerned, make sure that you don't short cut the creaming process. The butter and sugar should be very fluffy before you begin to add the eggs. And the eggs must be at room temperature—refrigerator-cold eggs can cause the batter to break. Insufficient creaming and/or cold eggs will result in a cake that is damp and heavy (it will still taste good, but I don't think you will like the texture). If you forget to pull your eggs out ahead of time, set them in a bowl and cover them with hot tap water for 5 minutes or so.

This cake should be served in elegant, thin slices rather than thick slabs. Those who want a larger portion (like me) can take a second slice. You should be able to get 12 to 16 slices to serve 8 to 12 people. The cake is a wonderful afternoon treat with a cup of coffee or tea. Because there is more cake than fruit, it doesn't have the keeping qualities of a traditional fruit cake. Both Elizabeth Alston and Gourmet recommend that the cake be eaten within 5 days—although I think it probably lasts longer. How much longer though I really can't say since it never seems to last longer than a week in my house.

Brandied Fruit & Almond Pound Cake

1/3 c. golden raisins
1/3 c. dried cranberries
1/3 c. currants
1/4 c. diced dried apricots
1/2 c. Cognac or brandy
1 c. plus 2 T. blanched slivered almonds (4 1/2 oz.)—see note
1 1/2 c. all purpose flour
1 t. baking powder
1/4 t. salt
12 T. (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 c. sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 t. vanilla
zest of one orange
1/4 c. diced homemade candied orange peel—optional

Place the dried fruits in a bowl and add the brandy. Let sit at room temperature for at least an hour, stirring occasionally. The fruit may be macerated several days ahead. If doing ahead, cover and refrigerate.

Butter an 8 cup (9x5x3-inch) loaf pan and then line the bottom and long sides with a piece of parchment paper, trimming the parchment level with the top of the pan. Butter and flour the parchment. Set aside.

Toast the almonds in a 350° oven until lightly colored and fragrant. Cool to room temperature. Measure out 1/2 cup (2 oz.) and set aside. Grind the remaining 2 1/2 oz. of almonds until powder fine, using a rotary nut grinder or the food processor. If using the food processor, add several tablespoons of the sugar to absorb the oil from the nuts.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt and almond flour. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream the butter with the sugar on high speed until very light and fluffy—about 5 minutes.

After 3 minutes, beat in the zest and vanilla and continue to beat for another 2 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition and scraping down the sides of the bowl before adding the next one.

Fold in half of the dry ingredients. Fold in the dried fruits along with the brandy.

Fold in the remaining dry ingredients along with the diced orange peel and reserved nuts.

Turn the batter into the prepared pan, smoothing the top. Transfer to a 325° oven and bake until golden brown and springy to the touch—about 1 hour and 15 minutes to 1 hour and 30 minutes. A tooth pick inserted in the center will come out free of crumbs. Cool in the pan for 10 minutes.

Turn out onto a wire rack to cool completely before wrapping air tight. The cake may be enjoyed freshly made, or it may be kept—well-wrapped—at room temperature for five days. The cake tastes best if made a day ahead. The cake also freezes well.

Note: If you don't have a nut grinder, you may substitute 2 oz. of blanched slivered almonds plus 2 1/2 oz. of purchased almond meal or almond flour for the total amount of almonds given in the recipe.



Candied Orange Peel

A couple of days ago I began to write a post about a recipe that included homemade candied orange peel. I realized that it made more sense to write a post devoted to the candied peel first. Because I use homemade candied peel throughout the holiday season—in cakes, pies and breads—I will probably post recipes that use it more than once...if not this year, certainly in years to come.

Besides its presence in a wide variety of traditional holiday baked goods, candied peel makes a very nice Christmas candy—plain or dipped in dark chocolate. It is an old fashioned kind of homemade treat. My mother has memories of her grandparents making it at Christmas time. To this day it is one of her favorite holiday candies—I'm sure she would be disappointed if I didn't make at least one batch.

Since candied orange peel is easy to make there is no reason to settle for the inferior stuff that is sometimes sold commercially. Choose a day to make it when you have other activities to attend to at home. Once started, it doesn't take a lot of attention, just your presence in the house during its quiet and lengthy simmer on the back of the stove.

In addition to orange peel, lemon and grapefruit peel also candy beautifully. Whatever fruit you choose, seek out specimens that have thick skins so that the white layer of pith—which softens to a chewy, gumdrop-like texture during the cooking process—will be nice and fat. After multiple blanchings in boiling water, most of the natural bitterness of the pith is gone and the peels will have begun to soften. The transformation from a fibrous, bitter rind—suitable only for the compost heap—is made complete by a long slow simmer in a simple sugar syrup.

When the pith is translucent, the candying process is finished. I like to drain the now-thick syrup off and spread the peels out on wire racks to dry. When they have dried to the point that they are just slightly tacky to the touch—usually overnight, I like to toss them in granulated sugar. They can then be stored airtight at room temperature and eaten as a snack or diced and added to baked goods. If you are only going to be using them to bake with, they can be stored in their syrup in the refrigerator until you are ready to use them.

Candied Orange Peel

2 navel oranges (thick skinned oranges are best)
2 1/4 c. sugar, divided
1 3/4 c. water
1 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice

Top and tail the oranges and quarter them lengthwise. Pull the rind away from the flesh—scrape away any membrane that remains attached to the rind. Set the orange flesh aside for another use or a snack. Lay the pieces of rind on a cutting board and slice them lengthwise into 1/4-inch strips.

Place the strips of peel in a medium saucepan and add water to cover by an inch. Bring to a rapid boil. Simmer for 5 minutes. Strain the peels and discard the water. Cover the peels with more cold water and bring to a boil again, simmering and straining as before. Repeat one more time with fresh water.

After three blanchings

In a clean medium saucepan combine 2 cups of the sugar with 1 3/4 c. of water and the lemon juice. Heat until the sugar is dissolved. Add the peels and bring to a simmer. Reduce the heat to medium-low. The goal is to cook the peels at a bare simmer—you should only see a bubble or two on the surface of the syrup as the peels cook. Cook until the peels are translucent—about 1 to 1 1/2 hours.

After 1 1/2 hours

Strain the citrus peels and place them, so they are not touching, on a wire rack. Let sit overnight to air-dry. Toss the candied peels in the remaining 1/4 cup sugar, coating them thoroughly.

Strained finished peel

Spread out to dry

Tossed with sugar

Makes about 40 pieces of candies orange peel. Store the peels at room temperature in an airtight container.

(Recipe adapted from Four-Star Desserts, by Emily Luchetti)