Salted Chocolate Caramel Almond Bark and Homemade Presents

This post is a mouthful - literally. But it's totally worth it. I'm surprised that any of this bark survived in order to make it into gift bags. As I was packing them, there was a lot of 'one-for-me, one-for-the-bag' happening.

The extent of my craftiness is cooking. I am not necessarily crafty when it comes to decorating and the like - so for me, getting to the craft store for various wrapping accoutrements was a big accomplishment this year. 

This salted chocolate caramel almond bark is the kind of gift I think most people would be really happy to receive. Plus, nothing says loving like a little something homemade, right? I always appreciate receiving a homemade gift - because I know that the giver put a lot of TLC into it, and that's enough to conjure those holiday warm and fuzzies.




This bark, like most bark, is a cinch to make. There are basically two cooking steps - make the caramel, melt the chocolate. And you can feel free to mix and match - if you're over almonds, maybe try pistachios or pecans - you could even throw some dried fruit up in there. The actual cooking time is pretty short, so if you're still looking for holiday gifts - you've got plenty of time to whip up a batch of this bark.

Happy holidays!



What you'll need:
~adapted from Bon Appetit

1/2 cup sugar
1 Tbsp unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups blanched almonds
1 lb dark chocolate (62%-70% cacao), chopped
Coarse sea salt (for sprinkling)

Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat, such as a silpat, or foil.
In a small saucepan, combine sugar with 2 Tbsp water. Stir over low heat until the sugar dissolves, swirling every once and a while, and if needed, brushing the sides down with a wet pastry brush to prevent crystallization.
Once the sugar turns to a deep amber caramel, remove the caramel from heat and whisk in the butter.
Add the almonds, stir to coat, and turn out onto the lined baking sheet, spreading the caramel covered almonds into one, even layer. Allow to cool and once they have, break up any clumps.
Melt the chocolate in a bowl over a pot of boiling water. Once the chocolate has melted, add most of the caramel covered almonds, reserving about 1/4 cup for later. Stir well to coat. Transfer this melted chocolate mixture to the sheet pan, being sure to spread it into one, even layer.
Top the with the reserved nuts and sprinkle with a generous dusting of sea salt.
Allow the bark to set by placing the sheet pan in the fridge for a few hours.
Once completely hardened, break up the bark into shards using your hands - it's ok if the pieces are uneven.

Wrap in cellophane gift bags and tie with ribbon or whatever holiday adornments you like.

A Cranberry Tart and Some Exciting News

Cranberries can be so much more than just juice and sauce.




As a big fan of cranberries, I am not against either form of cranberry - actually, I am kind of against the jiggly cranberry sauce that plops from a can and then remains a cylinder of red jelly. I just think there is more room in the kitchen for cranberries than we sometimes allow for. It's as if someone decided cranberries weren't good enough, perhaps because they aren't as naturally sweet as other berries, and they've been in the corner ever since. Think about it - they don't even make the cut when it comes to listing all the types of berries: strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, blueberries - never cranberries. And when it comes to talk about fruits packed with antioxidants and being extraordinarily good-for-you - blueberries hog all the spotlight. But then Thanksgiving rolls around, and everyone suddenly loves cranberries, only to be cast aside again on Friday - shelved for another year.

Poor cranberries - you're not bad, you're just different.



So, because I don't think cranberries should play second fiddle to other berries anymore, here is one attempt at letting them shine.




I borrowed this recipe from David Tanis via Food & Wine Magazine. The only change I made was to use almond flour instead of AP flour in the almond custard - just for an added almond boost. And while this tart will be brought along to my family's Thanksgiving festivities tomorrow, it's going to become a regular hit on my ever-growing playlist. The cranberry-almond combo is one of my all time faves, so this tart will make appearances throughout the fall and winter - not just for Thanksgiving.

And, as if the payoff of a delicious dessert wasn't incentive enough to make this tart, it has an added bonus - the bright red cranberry syrup you'll be left with in the end. I have all sorts of ideas for what I'll do with mine - I'm picturing scrumptious holiday cocktails, cranberry spiked ice cubes, cranberry-shortbread cookies and even a little tart and sweet topping for my morning yogurt and granola. And I might freeze some - so that I can get show some cranberry love in the off-season, too.




Before I leave you to enjoy your Thanksgiving holiday - I'll share some exciting news. The good folks at Gather Journal just came out with their new fall/winter issue - and I'm delighted to be a contributor. Gather Journal is a dream read for anyone who is into food or just beautiful photos - so definitely check out their list of stockists and pick up a copy! You'll be hooked - just like I was.

Peach Cardamom Tart Tatin and Picking Our Own

We used to go apple picking every fall. My mom packed us in the car, each of us donning a different color fleece and we would head an hour north to Warwick, NY. Unfortunately, we seemed to always time our trip so that it coincided with the annual New York Renaissance Fair in - wait for it - Sterling Forest. This means that for a portion of our journey, we shared the one lane road with hundreds of cars whose passengers were dressed in chain metal and tunics and long skirts and carrying bows and arrows.

As schedules got increasingly busy, and teenage years made us way too cool, our fall tradition gradually came to a halt. But, in times of stress, my inclination is to wrap myself in a cocoon of all that is familiar and comfortable and uncomplicated. So after a particularly trying couple of weeks, my mom and I were in the mood for fresh air, a bit of calm and a break from reality. We wanted to revisit our ritual and bask in all of the warm memories that come with it, so we headed upstate to pick our own. And as you kind of hope when returning to significant places and activities from your past, everything was the same - even ye olde traffic.

Actually, I take that back - not everything was the same. In the past, I remember chilly air and a need for a cup of warm apple cider as a reward for our hard day's labor. Since we typically used to wait until later in the season to get our apples, by the time we arrived, all of the late summer, warmer weather options like peaches and raspberries and tomatoes were no longer. We never even considered picking anything but apples. Not so on this trip. 

It is true what they say - the early bird sure does catch the worm because as we pulled up on the first weekend of September we found trees laden with pears, multiple varieties of apples, peaches and nectarines. After we paid for our boxes and bags and were set free to gather at will, I got a closer look at those branches made heavy with juicy fruit and visions of fruit morphed into dreams of pies, cobblers, tarts and ice creams. 

There is something kind of magical about wandering the lanes of a vast orchard. Getting lost amongst the trees - ducking under branches to reach the ripest fruit. Even though the parking lot and central walking paths showed evidence of other families out for their day of picking, once we meandered deep into the heart of the orchards, it felt as though we had it to ourselves - which made it easy to eat a sneaky apple or munch on a sweet peach.

We left with a half bushel of crisp apples and boxes filled to the brim with pears and peaches - more fruit than we could ever possibly eat. But that's ok, because one of the unspoken rules of picking your own is that much of what we pick is to be shared. The other is that you must always stop at the farm store on your way out for a bag of warm apple cider donuts. Check and check.

I made a peach tart tatin with some of my peaches, which I wanted to do while they were fresh off the tree and still firm enough to handle it. This is not the sort of thing I would make with overly ripe, very soft peaches, for fear of ending up with mush. A tart tatin is essentially three things - a deep caramel, wedges of fresh fruit and a flaky, buttery pastry baked to perfection. I added a bit of cardamom for added warmth and dimension and served it with freshly whipped cream, which I didn't sweeten because, between the ripe peaches and gooey caramel, this tart is sweet enough. What more could you want in a dessert?

For one 10' tart

What you'll need:

Pastry

1 cup AP flour, plus more

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp sugar

8 Tbsp very cold unsalted butter, diced into cubes

2-3 Tbsp ice water

Peach Cardamom Filling

8 Tbsp unsalted butter, cut into 1/2 inch slices

1/2 cup sugar

6 cardamom pods

4-5 large peaches, ripe but firm

Juice of 1/2 lemon

Pastry

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, salt and sugar. 

Using your hands, rub the butter into the dry ingredients until you achieve a sandy texture. 

Gradually add the ice water until the dough forms a firm ball. Add more flour or water accordingly - the dough should not be too sticky. Wrap in plastic and place in the freezer to rest.

Filling

Preheat the oven to 400ºF

Remove the core from the peaches and slice into thick wedges. Toss the peach wedges with lemon juice in a bowl and set aside. 

Line the bottom of a 10' cast iron skillet with the slices of butter and sugar. 

Use the flat of your knife to press on the cardamom pods to break them open. Carefully remove the tiny round seeds from within the cardamom pods and sprinkle these seeds on top of the butter and sugar in the pan, discarding the outer pods.

Tightly nest the peach wedges in concentric circles into the butter and sugar.

Place the skillet over medium heat and cook for 20 minutes or so, until a deep brown caramel forms. The caramel will bubble up between the peach wedges. 

Baking

As the peaches and caramel cook, remove the pastry from the freezer and turn onto a well floured board. Roll the pastry into an even circle until it is around 11-12 inches in diameter. 

Once the caramel is nicely browned, remove the pan from the heat and carefully lay the pastry over the top of the skillet, pressing it into the sides. 

Use a fork to pierce the pastry and place the whole skillet into the center of the oven. 

Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the pastry is golden brown. 

Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 10 minutes. 

Here's the tricky part - cover the cast iron skillet with a large plate or platter and, pressing the plate into the skillet, invert the pan, causing the tart tatin to drop onto the plate. 

Serve with freshly whipped cream. 

Almond Olive Oil Cake and Stress-Cooking

I do not stress-eat, I stress-cook.

If Damien comes home to a choice of three dinners, he knows I had a trying day. And if he comes home to dessert, then he knows it was a real doozy.

Last week was a rough one. You know when you feel like you're just getting pummeled by life? That's how I felt. By Friday I had had enough and needed to bake. Something about the precision in measuring and timing makes baking my ultimate relaxation activity. I searched the internet for something that screamed comfort - something that would wrap me up in good feelings. Enter this Almond Olive Oil cake.

Olive oil is probably definitely the number one most used ingredient in this kitchen. I go through the stuff like it's going out of style, so any cake in which olive oil has the lead role gets two thumbs up from this cook. The mere thoughts of the gooey icing and crunchy toasted almonds that were gonna top this cake lifted my spirits immediately. Plus, I had everything on hand - no need to venture out into the scary world from which I was retreating for the afternoon. Perfect.

From the moment the mixing and measuring started, I felt the tension ease and I relaxed. By the time I iced the cakes - I felt refreshed. By the time I finished my first slice - I was smiling.

I chose to make my cake in the form of mini loaves because I wanted to give one to a friend. This recipe, which was originally a 9-inch cake, allowed for me to fill two mini loaf tins. Also, rather than orange, I used a Meyer lemon for the icing/glaze because I love the more mellow brand of lemon flavor that a Meyer lemon offers and I thought it would blend nicely with the orange and olive oil and almond. Other than that, I pretty much stuck with Lillie's amazing recipe.

Adapted only slightly from Butter Me Up Brooklyn

What you'll need:

Cake

1 cup flour

1/2 cup almond flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp salt

3 eggs

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup + 1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1 tsp vanilla

zest of an orange

1/2 cup orange juice

Meyer Lemon Glaze

2 Tbsp brown butter

1 cup powdered sugar

2 Tbsp half and half {you can use cream, but it's what I had on hand}

1 Tbsp Meyer lemon juice, maybe more

1/2 cup sliced almonds, toasted

Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Butter and flour two mini loaf pans. 

In a small mixing bowl, whisk together the flours, baking powder and salt. 

In a large mixing bowl, beat the eggs and sugar together until it is pale yellow. Add the olive oil, vanilla, orange zest and orange juice. Whisk to combine completely.

Combine the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients - stir until completely smooth. 

Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pans and place in the center of the oven. Bake for 35 minutes or so, until golden brown. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 5 minutes or so, before attempting to remove the cakes from the loaf tins.

Top a baking tray with a wire cooling rack. Place the cakes on top of the cooling rack and allow to cool almost completely. 

While the cakes cool, prepare the icing. 

Brown the butter in a frying pan.

Combine the brown butter with the sugar and mix until smooth. Add the half and half and juice from the Meyer lemon. Mix until smooth and slightly runny. 

Use a spatula or butter knife to glaze the cakes. While the glaze is still wet top with toasted almonds, pressing gently so that they adhere to the icing. 

Allow to cool and set completely before eating.

Plum Skillet Cake and a Cast Iron Confession

My kitchen equipment wish list is ever-growing. It's not full of single-use items like a strawberry slicer, or a tomato corer, or an avocado slicer - because I own a knife and, last time I checked, a knife does just fine when it comes to slicing strawberries, coring tomatoes or cutting up an avocado. I've made it this far without a dedicated banana slicer - I think I'll be alright.



No - my list is full of items that I want to buy once and never have to buy again. Things I want my kids to use one day. Things that are multi-taskers and stand up to the test of time. Things like a cast iron skillet.

It's kind of embarrassing that I don't own a cast iron skillet. It's not that they are particularly hard to come by, or so expensive that I can't pull the trigger. It's because the only cast iron skillet I have ever owned came to its demise in my kitchen and now I'm afraid to ruin another one.



I'm going to share the story with you, but try not to be too judgmental. Keep in mind that I was only young, in my first apartment, with minimal understanding about much of anything, let alone proper care of cast iron. I'm going to say it fast and just rip it off like a band-aid - I cooked in my cast iron some gunk stuck to it I scrubbed and scrubbed but it didn't come off so....I left it submerged in soapy water overnight.

Phew. Ok. Feels good to get that off my chest.

You can imagine the scene when I checked it the next morning. After draining the sink, let's just say the skillet was no longer black, but mostly orange.



There was rust all over that puppy. And, here's the second of my sins - I tossed it - not easily mind you, it was rather heavy. What a waste! I didn't even think to consult with the world wide web about whether I could salvage it - I just threw it out. In my rather inexperienced brain I thought, well, it's all rusty, so I guess that's that.

Fast forward to a time when I am, about some things, a little bit wiser. How to properly care for uncoated cast iron is one of the things that I have learned over the last 8 years or so, and although I would most likely be a more competent user of untreated cast iron, I am still a smidgeon worried that I'll ruin it.

You know when kids want a new puppy, and the parents are all, well how do we know you are responsible enough to take care of it? And then, maybe the kids have to borrow their cousin's dog to see whether they like it and to prove they are responsible? That's kind of what I did. I did a test run a couple of weeks ago - I borrowed my friend's mini skillets to make a strawberry-sorrel crisp and it worked out ok. She didn't know about my past as a cast iron killer, although I suspect now she might. I was obsessed with taking proper care of those borrowed skillets. I cleaned properly - no soapy water - I oiled properly, I stored properly. I did all the right things. And I did good.



So now I think I'm ready to take the plunge - that might be a bad choice of words given how my skillet was ruined - and buy another cast iron skillet. But, I still don't own one. If I did, I would have used it for this plum skillet cake.

I got a slew of sweet plums at the market on Saturday and wanted to bake with them. We were headed to a BBQ at a friend's house yesterday and I wanted to bring dessert, which worked out perfectly. This cake is beyond easy to make and is as close to a baking one-pot-wonder as it gets. So easy that I kept one on eye on my cake and the other on the Olympics. Because of my cast iron insecurities, I had to make mine in a regular old frying pan, which I was not best pleased about. If I had used cast iron, the pan would have been hotter and the outside of the cake would have formed more of a 'crust.' I made do with what I had and brought the cake over to the BBQ, frying pan and all, and served it with dark rum whipped cream.



Guess what? When I got there, the first thing I saw in the drying rack next to the sink was an old cast iron skillet. It was beautifully old, with all of the wear and tear and marks of a skillet that has been passed down for a few generations. I took it as a sign and made a decision right then and there, my kitchen will be cast iron skilletless no longer.

And, fyi, this cake was a huge hit, even without the use of cast iron. If you don't have an 8' frying pan, you can even use a regular 8' cake pan.



Cake recipe changed in the slightest and taken from Martha Stewart
What you'll need:
4 Tbsp unsalted butter, softened, plus more for greasing the skillet
1 cup flour, plus more for dusting the pan
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
A pinch of salt
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
1/2 cup buttermilk
3-4 ripe plums
2 Tbsp brown sugar

For the rum whipped cream:
1/2 pint heavy cream
1 Tbsp confectioner's sugar
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 capfuls dark rum

Plum Skillet Cake
Preheat the oven to 375ºF.
Butter the skillet and dust it with flour, shaking off the excess flour. Set aside.
In a mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, or with an electric beater, cream the butter and granulated sugar for a few minutes, until pale and fluffy.
Beat in the egg.
Alternating, add the buttermilk and dry ingredients - pausing in between each addition to allow the batter to come together.
Once all of the ingredients have been added and the batter is smooth, pour the batter into the prepared skillet - using a spatula or bread knife to smooth the top.
Thinly slice the plums and fan them on top of the cake, creating whatever pattern you'd like.
Dust with the brown sugar and place in the center of the oven for 35-40 minutes, or until the cake is golden brown and a toothpick into the center comes out clean.

Rum Whipped Cream
Pour the cold cream into a bowl. Using either an electric mixer or a regular whisk, beat the cream until soft peaks form.
Add the vanilla, sugar and rum. Beat until the cream forms stiff peaks.

Black & White Cookies and Fond{ant} Memories

The way I see it, I could go a few ways with this post. I could chat a little bit about how situations and decisions aren't always as black and white as we'd like. Or, I could discuss yin and yang and all things harmonious, balanced and zen. Or, I could tell you a little bit about the history of the black and white cookie, but, honestly, I don't know that much about them and with such riveting facts as the black and white cookie made appearances in story-lines for Seinfeld and Sex and the City and it's sometimes called a Half-Moon, Wikipedia isn't really helping me out on this one.

So, I'm gonna stick with what I know, which is that black and white cookies are kind of a big deal around here.

As a native New Yorker, I've eaten my fair share of these bad boys. As a kid, they were a dream. First of all, they're often the size of your head, which makes you feel like you're getting away with something when you're eating one. The genius mastermind behind the black and white chose to douse them in a thick layer of not one, but two flavors of icing, completely eradicating the dreaded choice between vanilla and chocolate. And, again, hats off to the mad baker who created them, black and whites are kind of the perfect cake-cookie hybrid - best of both worlds.

I always felt like I needed to double check that I was actually getting the green light to eat the whole thing. I would get my little hands on one and once I realized that I did, in fact, need both hands to hold onto the thing I looked at mom in disbelief, then looked back at the cookie. I looked at dad to see if he was paying attention, then back at the cookie. Then I would go for it, take it down in no time flat, and end up with chocolate fondant on one side of my face, and vanilla on the other - because I would eat it straight up the middle - getting both a little vanilla and chocolate in each bite. That is, until it got so wide that I had to nibble a little vanilla and then immediately a little chocolate to achieve the balance. Such a gastronome at age 5.

Still, as picky as I may have been about eating both chocolate and vanilla at the same time, back in the day, I was not as picky about the source of my black and whites. Oh, it's been wrapped in plastic and sitting on the bodega counter since last month? Yes, that sounds delicious, I'll take one please.

Most of the time we scored our black and whites at the bakery - so at least they were kind of safe. But then, sometimes, the bakery would try to get cute and fancy and bust out the mini black and whites - boy, was that disappointing. In that case, I felt like I deserved to eat at least like 7 of them, just to really make sure I was getting the same amount as if they were the ginormous ones. But, somehow, I don't remember being allowed to do that.

So, I was in a local bagel/deli place the other day and saw some plastic-wrapped black and whites stacked on the counter. They may have been there since I was in elementary school. I resisted the urge to grab one, and instead decided to have a go at making them. As with lots of foods, homemade can't be beat - they're in a completely different realm than the dry, crumbly, overly sweet cookies you find in your corner deli.

All of the recipes I found called for light corn syrup in the icing - to make it shiny or sweet or thick. I don't know if it's just me, but I didn't even know you could still buy corn syrup in a store. Here's the thing folks, you don't need that corn syrup - this icing is A) shiny enough B) sweet enough and C) thick enough.

When they were done, I was so impressed with myself that I actually thought about marketing these cookies to Brooklyn's newest sports team, the Nets. At first, when I saw their boring old black and white logo, I ragged on Jay-Z's marketing and design skills - as in, maybe he should stick to rapping. But then, after making these cookies this week and thinking about my fond{ant} memories as a wee Brooklynite munching on black and white cookies, it struck me that perhaps Jay-Z is actually a marketing genius. Maybe Mr. Jay-Z also took down his fair share of black and whites as a Brooklynite and wanted to pay homage. There could be no other explanation.

What you'll need for ~8 cookies:
Recipe adapted from Epicurious

Cookies
1 1/4 cups flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup buttermilk
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/3 cup unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1 large egg

Vanilla icing
1 1/2 cups confectioner's sugar
2 tsp fresh lemon juice
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
1-2 Tbsp hot water

Chocolate icing
3 oz 70% bittersweet chocolate
2 Tbsp unsalted butter
2-3 Tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup confectioner's sugar

For the cookies:
Preheat the oven to 350ºF
Grease a baking sheet with butter and set aside.
In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda and salt.
In a separate cup or bowl, stir together the buttermilk and vanilla extract.
With either a stand mixer or electric mixer, cream together the butter and sugar for a few minutes, until light and fluffy.
Add the egg and beat to combine it well.
On low speed, mix in a little of the flour mixture, then a little of the buttermilk. Once incorporated, add the rest of each - be sure to scrape down the sides of the bowl to make sure everything is fully incorporated.
Mix until completely smooth.
Spoon 1/4 cup of batter onto the greased baking sheet - making sure to leave at least 2 inches between cookies.
Bake the cookies in the middle of the oven until puffed up and golden, around 15 minutes.
Transfer the cookies to a cooling rack and allow to cool before icing them.

For the icings:
Stir together 1 1/2 cups of confectioner's sugar, the lemon juice, vanilla extract, and hot water. Mix until completely smooth, set aside.
Make a double boiler by placing a small metal bowl over a small pot of boiling water. Add the chocolate and butter to the bowl and allow it to melt. Stir only once it has melted, not before, this way it'll be nice and shiny.
Whisk in the confectioner's sugar and cocoa powder. Whisk until smooth.

Remember - you're icing the flat, underside of the cookie - not the rounded side. Use a butter knife or offset spatula to ice one half of the cookie with vanilla icing. Do the same with all of the cookies.
Once all of the cookies have been iced with vanilla, add the chocolate icing to the other half. Place on a rack and refrigerate - this allows the fondant to set.

{Tips}
The cocoa powder helps to darken the chocolate icing to make it look more 'black.' If you don't have it, you don't really need to add it.
Add water to the white fondant gradually - this way if you need more, you can add it, but once it's too thin it's hard to fix.
Both fondants should be fairly thick - not runny - so the icing doesn't run off the cookie too much.