Passover…and Then Pass Some More Please

It wasn’t until I started writing this blog that I realized how little I actually know about why we celebrate certain holidays/events.  I’m always up for a good party, but throwing a gala doesn’t require any concrete facts.  Just the fact that I’m alive and breathing today is a good enough reason to get together with friends and gorge my face…this comes as a surprise to no one I would imagine, but this week we had multiple reasons for baking and eating.

The first was to honor Passover.  Let’s be honest, I’m not a religious man, but when trying to figure out the baked good of the week I saw that a holy day of observance had once again crossed my path and I had no idea what it was about.  I always thought Passover vaguely had something to do with Easter (just because they come so close together), but ultimately it is an event unto itself celebrated by those practicing the Jewish faith.  What spurned me on to make this week’s treat, the Apricot Pecan Torte, was the fact that I wasn’t allowed to use flour.

Sure, I’ve made the irreverent and now common flourless chocolate cake from time to time and even made a Linzer Torte before when I was in pastry class, but I never gave much thought to a recipe calling for flour or specifying it’s absence.  As I took to the web once more, I was able to glean useful (if not still slightly vague) knowledge about why flour, and more to the point leavening agents, are not allowed in the preparation of breads and meals during the Passover observation.  It’s all about the rise, baby.

Apparently, according to the book of Exodus in the Bible, God struck the country of Egypt with a series of plagues…10 to be exact, until the Pharaoh released the Hebrew slaves from the bondage in which they were kept.  The tenth plague was the one where the spirit of God came down and took the first born of each family (as well as the first-born animals) as a punishment for the Jews being held captive (Not Andrea and Nathan in this instance).  The devout Hebrews were instructed to sacrifice a Spring lamb and mark their doors with it’s blood so that God would know to “Passover” this house and not kill their firstborn child.  Pretty crazy, huh?  Well, I guess this plague finally did the trick and the Jews were able to get the heck out of dodge…but they were chased of course.

Now, here is the point in our story where we come to the crux of the issue.  The slaves were fleeing so quickly that the bread they were making didn’t have time to rise, and anyone who has ever made bread knows that it can take quite a while for that dough to come up…then you have to knock it down, let it rise, knock it down again, etc…you get the point.  No one wants to do that with a bunch of angry Egyptians on their back.  Thus, in keeping with traditional folklore surrounding the celebration of Passover, no leavening agents are to be used in the making of breads…that’s why Matzo bread is so popular.

Matzo bread can be found in round balls in soups, but is commonly found in a flat (almost pita like) form.  It can be made of flour and water, which confused me at first because I thought you weren’t supposed to use flour when making Passover baked goods, but apparently it’s the rising or leavening which is the enemy here.  From what I was able to discern you can even use baking powder and baking soda if you need to because they are chemical based leavening agents, but not any fermentation based forms of rising…like with yeast.  To put an even finer point on it, I read that any bread product containing flour of any kind cannot be “worked/kneaded” for long and has to be completely baked within 18 minutes or it will be considered as something that has had time to rise and is therefore bad.  I must say it sounds a little nutty to me, but I’m not knocking anyone’s practices.  You know I love a good tradition, whatever the reason that creates it.  As a side note, it’s also mentioned that preventing the bread from rising is similar to keeping your pride or inflated ego in check.  Sounds good to me.

The whole observance is really fascinating to me and I would love to go to a Seder dinner and see the full practice.  I know wine is drunk, stories about the Exodus are told, and bitter herbs are eaten as well as lamb tying into other parts of the Exodus story.  I won’t get into all of it here, but it really is an intriguing story.

With all of that said, the flourless torte I made this week ties in nicely.  No leavening agents were used in the making of this dessert so anyone and everyone could eat it when I brought it to work today.  I have to tell you, you don’t need a special day for this one, but you will want to have your sweet tooth on hand.  It is rich and moist because it’s chalked full of apricots and eggs, a heavenly combination.  Normally with a cake, or something in that vein, flour is the mainstay of your dry ingredients, but here it is mainly sugar, dried apricots and nuts.  The recipe called for almonds, but my friend Katherine’s family has a huge organic Pecan farm in Missouri and she sends me enough nuts each Christmas to last me a good part of the year.  They keep nicely in the freezer until you are ready to use them.  Toast them in the oven at 325 degrees for 10 minutes and they become warm, fragrant and delicious.  Just make sure you cool them off completely before putting them in the food processor or the heated oils in the nuts break down the dried apricots and sugar a bit, and you wind up with more of a paste than dry ingredients (yes I did this…and it’s a pain to recover from).

The wet ingredients are mainly eggs.  You separate 8 eggs and whip both the yolks and whites separately with sugar.  This is what will ultimately give your torte the volume since there is nothing inside helping it to raise a whole lot.  At the end, you just coat it with some heated up apricot preserves and some sugar.  This baby is unbelievably moist and fruity…almost sinful.

And while we are on the subject of sinful I can’t let last night’s dinner go without mention.  As a joint, continued celebration of Jonathan and Izabella’s birthdays as well as my impending birthday we decided to have a very big splurge-y night out and went to Blue Hill at Stone Barns.  I have written about this place before, in one of my first postings in fact, but I haven’t had the pleasure of a proper dinner there in a couple of years.  It’s not something one can do everyday (unless one is wealthy and would like to become fattened like one of the Berkshire pigs on the farm), but as a special treat it’s a not to be missed experience.  I dare say that last night’s dinner may have just made the all time top 3 dinners of my life…along with experiences at the Fat Duck and Per Se.

What made last night so special was, of course the company, but the process by which we arrived at our dinner had changed greatly from previous dinners I had at this restaurant.  The main thing was the lack of choice.  All you could choose from was either a 5 or 8-course dinner (and give any restrictions you might have), but it was of the chef’s imagination in tandem with what is in season at the farm (and the surrounding farms), which wound up on the plate.  No menu, food purely driven by seasonal ingredients…I cannot describe how much this excited me.  I profess a great love for eating local and keeping with the seasons, and this dinner was the pentacle expression of my foodie love.

We got the 8 courses, I just have to say it right out, but there were so many little bites and amuse bouche that accompanied these courses…it nearly bordered on the ridiculous.  The simple preparations and presentations of vegetables were maddeningly creative. Fish and pork were put on a pedestal, bathed in complex sauces.  And truly the most insane pasta that has ever crossed my lips melted in my mouth like it was never there.  We got to hear about and see the products which were going into our food; goose eggs which made the pasta, hen eggs which were cooked in a shell of salt and hay, honeycomb brought from the hives outside and deliciously dropped into a homemade tofu and Meyer lemon dessert…Y-U-M!  Coincidentally we were also served a Sacher Torte for dessert which I thought tied in nicely with my theme of the week, though the story we were told about the pastry chef’s recipe had to do with his Austrian grandmother and not Passover, but who’s counting?  The highlight of the evening (if you can believe this) was one of the tiniest things of all…a beet burger.  Perfectly cooked sweet and sour beets placed in between two mini-sesame seed buns about the size of a quarter, dissolving on your tongue in a memory worthy of a tear of two rolling down your cheek.

The real tear inducing part is that I didn’t have my camera with me.  I would have loved to photograph the food, or photographed the huge serving table in the middle of the space full of rustic breads, wines, flowers and towering branches laden with cherry blossoms.  I would have loved to have tried to get the perfect photo of the honeycomb and the goose eggs, the dishes of cheese and elegant cocktail glasses full of scotch, but I didn’t…it’s all in my mind, an experience to be treasured and certainly not repeated in the same way ever again…and Izabella better give me all the photos she took! 

Being placed in a position where you just have to trust the chef is adventurous, a little scary and completely exhilarating.  I wish I had someone making those food decisions for me every single day.  The thought of coming home to a surprise, seasonally considered meal every night is the stuff dreams are made of.  And whether it’s a day where you can have leavened bread or not, all that is required is that it taste good.  I bet you can relate to that.  I know I can.  It’s just who I am.

                              Hellebores coming up in our garden.

Spring

A beautiful cake is a study in delicacy and patience; an act of creation based on simple science and few ingredients yielding a perfect outcome.  A towering confection made of layers and fillings or just a single layer topped with a favorite frosting, the cake is nature’s most pure and lovable dessert (next to something like an apple or an orange of course).

Spring finally came to Ossining and New York City at large.  I’ve been watching with baited breath these past few weeks, hopeful, yet realistic since it is only the latter part of March.  Usually a snowstorm comes tromping through our village the first week of April (usually quite close to my birthday), but so far the clouds seem to be shying away and the sun has blazed forth more days as of late than I can count.  I like it and it makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

With the temperatures climbing into the 70’s over the weekend, it was time to take to the garden once more.  The first few moments of garden cleanup are something worth relishing.  I’m sure some people would think it’s a lot of work to maintain a backyard full of flowers, but to me it’s what keeps me sane.  The earthy smell wafts up from the ground as I pull back decayed, damp leaves revealing green shoots sneaking out from underground bulbs.  It’s heavenly.  Discovering newly sprouted plants you had forgotten about planting and old favorites opening up to say hello once more is the kind of thing gardeners fantasize about for nearly 5 months…at least that’s the case in the northeast. 

Step outside without a jacket, feel the warming sun strike your skin and with a stern grip on your clippers remove an old branch with a vigorous whack.  It’s deeply satisfying.  It’s the same satisfaction (or certainly very similar) I get when a properly prepared and risen cake is pulled from the oven.  The smell, though not of leaves, has the freshness and invigorating quality of floral scent moving through branches.  The warmth of the oven is like the sun, and a secret chemical process which made the cake rise is not unlike a bulb releasing it’s treasure once the heat outside has warmed the soil just enough. 

What makes the cake so perfect?  What sets it apart from the slue of desserts we bring to parties and gatherings?  I think it must be simplicity mingled with an ability to reach towering, sculptural heights, appearing both sturdy and delicate at the same time.  It can be dressed up or down and in the end as long as it tastes good the cake is successful.  I don’t make cakes that often these days… mainly for special occasions.  They can be time consuming to do properly, and for me it’s something I want to enjoy and not rush through.  Last Saturday was one of those days where I made time to create the buttery, tall goodness known as cake.  It was a special birthday after all. 

Our dear friends Jonathan and Izabella both had their birthdays last week, 40 and 39 respectively.  I hope they don’t mind me giving out their ages, but Jonathan turning 40 is a big birthday and one worth remembering and celebrating.  As one of their gifts I decided to bake them a cake.  With the turn of good weather and impending springtime blossoms I wanted to make something fitting and seasonal as well as something I knew they would like.  I turn time and again to lemon as one of my favorite flavors, and of the several lemon related cakes I have made I know they always seem to like the ones with the lemon curd fillings and yummy coating of buttercream the best (second only to chocolate I believe).  I typically do a two layer cake, one of Martha’s recipes, as well as her recipe for lemon curd and buttercream, but I wanted to change things up a bit and returned to the Baked: New Frontiers in Baking cookbook which I used to make the whoopee pies last October as well as Lisa’s Sweet and Salty birthday cake from November.  I really like the recipes in this book, and they are full of complex flavors using multiple, easy techniques (my favorite).

Making the cake tiers was a fairly standard process as far as recipes go.  The batter is made using mostly cake flour instead of all-purpose flour.  Cake flour gives you a more delicate crumb and a lightness you don’t get when using AP flour. The zest of a lemon is incorporated into the batter as well for a subtle citrus hint.  Finally, 3 whipped egg whites are folded in at the end for additional airiness and volume…I think this is the secret of the recipe. 

Lemon curd is good in any form.  This particular recipe uses more lemon juice, and get this…less butter than I normally use.  Shocking?  I know.  Surprisingly, I loved it.  The curd is tart but sweet at the same time, and would be tasty served on a piece of cardboard let alone as a wonderful filling for cake.

The buttercream in the recipe was also different.  Normally I have made buttercream by whipping egg whites and sugar together in a double boiler, then attaching the bowl to the mixer and beating it until cool and fluffy.  This is usually followed by the addition of butter.  This recipe’s buttercream instead called for milk, flour, sugar and heavy cream being cooked in a saucepan for nearly 20 minutes (similar to making a roux) and then beating this concoction in the mixer with butter and lemon curd…again, less butter was called for than I’m accustomed to.  Strangely, it gave the frosting structure without being heavy. 

All of the aforementioned parts lead up to a light and fluffy, strong but dainty, divine lemon cake.  I can’t find the recipe for this one online, so I suggest you buy the book and get started STAT!!!…Or come over and help us finish this one because four people shouldn’t try to eat a whole 3-layer cake by themselves!!!  (But it is fun to try.)

Making a cake should be fun.  It should be an excuse to celebrate special days as well as the not so special.  Sometimes there are hours to spend seeking perfection with an offset spatula and a creamy coating of buttercream, other times there are just enough moments to lay on the frosting in a wild and hedonistic way, give a dusting of sanding sugar or cocoa and get to the party.  However much time you have, always bake your cake with a smile on your face and happy thoughts running through your head…and maybe a cup of coffee to keep you zipping along.  It’s the best therapy money can buy and your friends and family will feel the love.  I think cakes are magical.  It’s just who I am.

Vaguely Irish

Another strangely beloved holiday has come and gone; the day of green clovers, rainbows, pots of gold, little ginger bearded men protecting their lucky charms and of course beer drinkers.  I am referring to none other than St. Patrick’s Day. 

Traditionally seen as a religious holiday falling in the middle of the Catholic Lent observance, St Patrick’s Day has now seemingly become an excuse to begin drinking at 8:00am on March 17th, breaking up an otherwise dull workweek.  I mean, I’m all for celebration, but being confronted first thing on the morning commute with a bunch of obnoxious tween drinkers is not the pairing I’m looking for with a nice cup of coffee…and I can only imagine the hangover coming along with such a full day of imbibing.  Ahhh, drink on my friends, drink on.

As I am want to do as of late, I started looking into this “holiday” trying to discover its roots and purpose.  I know we have a huge parade in New York City marked with a lot of crazed energy and green beer, but how did this whole thing begin in the first place?  Clearly it has to do with someone named Patrick who was a saint, but the why and how I never considered.

A young man kidnapped from his home in Britain, the later to be famous St. Patrick was brought to Ireland and made a slave/shepherd for six years before a vision from God told him to escape and return home.  While back in England, he had another angelic vision telling him to become a priest.  Once his training was complete, he returned to Ireland to bring Christianity to the nature worshipping pagans that resided there.  This removal of paganism became known as “driving the snakes” out of Ireland. 

The legends surrounding the man Patrick say he may have used the clover as a teaching device representing the holy trinity (most clovers only have 3 leaves) and he died on the 17th of March in the 5th century.  Because this day falls during Lent, the time when many good Catholics give up one or more of their vices, it is used as a reprieve of sorts allowing people to go back to their drinking, maming and marauding for one special day.  The old saying about feast or famine seems to apply in the case.  Like a dehydrated man eating sand at a dessert mirage, beer endlessly flies into gullets for 24 hours as everyone tries to cram in as much vice as possible before returning to their Lent observance.  A suggestion if I may...give up Lent and drink regularly.

Traditions for this holiday also came with the influx of Irish immigrants to America during the potato famine.  People began to wear green, eat corned beef (a thriftier cut of meat marinated for a length of time to tenderize it) and cabbage and the annual parades began first in Boston then moving to New York. 

Now that we’ve had our history lesson, I can focus on the part I like to observe:  the making of Irish Soda Bread.  For the past couple of years now I’ve made this quickbread as a tasty treat to accompany just about anything, but it’s also very delicious on its own or served with salty butter.  I remember my grandmother making it when I was a kid, and to be completely honest, I don’t think I really cared for it very much.  It has raisins as well as a 1/4-cup of caraway seeds and buttermilk. As I have grown older and my tastes have changed, I’ve found a soft place in my heart for this sweet and salty bread.

Combining whole milk and apple-cider vinegar, which curdles within 5 minutes becoming thick and rich, creates the buttermilk in this recipe.  Most recipes calling for buttermilk use only a little bit and you end up having the rest of the carton left in the fridge for ages, eventually spoiling, left sad and alone in the doorway.  I like that you make your own and don’t have any leftover to feel guilty about.

I also tried to observe the day by sporting a shirt with a clover on the front.  It was a present given to me by a friend I hadn’t seen in 7 years until earlier this week.  One of my best friends from college, Lisa, came to visit for work.  She, Brian and myself had a lovely dinner at a place called Artisanal.  It is known for it’s cheeses and has a huge cave on site full of beautifully ripening discs of frormagerie heaven.  Can you say fondue???  I know you can!  Both the meal and the company were spectacular followed by a lovely pairing of citrus desserts (my favorite).

The other big dessert treat I tried out this week were Chocolate-Black Pepper Cookies.  This one does sound a little strange, but if you’ve ever had a piece of chocolate mixed with a little bit of cayenne you have found greatness.  These cookies call for regular black pepper (which is what I used), but I’m sure the cayenne would be amazing.  I’m really into the pairing of salty and sweet, so I figured why not add a little pepper into the mix and see what turns up?  Again, these cookies are super easy to make and can be done with the hurried time schedule of a busy gal on the go.  Rich and fudge-like with a peppery bite, these cookies are definitely worth a try.  My only recommendation is leaving off the additional pepper called for in the recipe.  Pepper goes into the dry ingredients as well as gets ground on top of the cookies right before they go into the oven.  I tried them both ways and found the cookies with the extra pepper to be a bit cloying, but hey, that’s just me.  Do what you will.

As the weather has begun to warm this week I have taken to eating my lunch outside once more.  I’m working near Washington Square Park and can easily pick up some food and go bask in the rays of a warming sun while listening to jazz bands play in the background.  In a word…bliss.

New York City in the springtime is truly one of the most magical places on Earth.  The people begin to smile again, the trees start to bud and the tulips are poking their leaves out everywhere just waiting to have enough energy to cover the landscape with an array of colorful flowers.  I think I appreciate the plant life in the city even more than out wear I live because it’s in such stark contrast to the concrete jungle surrounding it.  Those plants work hard, and are rewarded with the shear number of people who witness and appreciate their blossoming. 

I didn’t go clover hunting on my lunchtime excursions, but I found treasure just the same on an average afternoon in the middle of the city:  It’s a park with sun and laughter and a place to breathe for a moment in an otherwise hectic day.  I suggest packing a loaf of soda bread and some chocolate cookies for a picnic.  It’s just who I am.

Oscar Moments

Ahhh…it’s Oscar time once more.  Roll out the red carpet, put on your pearl necklace and get your pastries ready because it’s time to eat and celebrate!

I love the Oscars.  It’s what I would call the equivalent Super Bowl for those less sport inclined.  Does it make us any less rowdy and raucous or hungry for good food?  Certainly not, in fact we want more food, the best, most delicious food money can buy…I mean someone has to do the eating because the celebrities certainly aren’t.

Each year we gather with friends to celebrate this most festive time in film, usually with a handsome betting pool for the person who gets the most Oscar picks correct, followed by a food themed competition pertaining in some way to a nominated film.  This, of course, is the part I love.

We were a small bunch this year, opting to stay at home and watch with a few friends in the comfort of our living room.  I must be getting older because I have become aware of getting home late “on school nights”, and the thought of a midnight drive home on a Sunday seemed absolutely undoable with the work schedule I’ve been keeping.  My youth is apparently fleeting.   No matter, I still made enough dessert for a crowd.

My choice for the 2010 Oscar party is…(drum roll) Tarte Au Fromage Frais!  This simple, rustic cheese tart ties in with the movie “Julie and Julia”.  In the movie, Meryl Streep plays Julia Child and does an amazing job.  I’ve always loved Julia, and the movie brought to life how entertaining she really was.  The plot of the film has to do with a blogger (Julie Powell) cooking her way through Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking within the time frame of a year, and keeping a blog about her adventures.  It’s sort of like me with all my Martha Stewart recipes…the film version would be "Marty and Martha"…but I digress.  For me, the parts of the film having to do with Julia Child were fantastic and I could have watched a whole movie about her alone.  I think the inspiration, for me at least, is obvious.  Julia Child loved to cook and bake (as do I) as well as loved to eat and laugh (which I also enjoy). 

We acquired a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a cute little antiques shop in the Hamptons a few years back, but I have to be honest and say I’ve never made anything out of it before.  Thumbing through the pages of the massive French tomb I came across multiple delicious things to make, but the fromage tart stood out for me in its simplicity and rustic elegance.  It’s almost like making a quiche and it rises in the oven like a soufflé, but at the end of the day it tastes like the most delicious cheesecake you’ve ever had.  The filling is nothing but butter, cream cheese, sugar, 2 eggs and nutmeg…how simple is that?  And the crust is basic pate sucree dough, which is called sweet short paste in Julia’s volume.  It too is quite simple to make and can be done in a food processor in no time at all.  The recipe is as follows:

Crust (Pate Brisee Sucree)

1 cup all purpose Flour

1 Tbsp. Sugar

1/8 tsp. Salt

4 Tbsp. Butter

1 Tbsp Chilled Vegetable Shortening (Crisco)

2 1/2 to 3 Tbsp. Cold water

If you have a food processor, this is really easy.  Just add in the dry ingredients and pulse to combine.  Add in the butter and shortening, pulsing until the butter becomes pea sized pieces.  Lastly, slowly drizzle in the water until the dough just barely holds together (you may not need all of the water depending on the humidity of the day)…and then STOP!  Don’t over-mix.  You want to be able to see small pieces of butter within the dough.  Form it into a disk and wrap in plastic wrap, chill for an hour. 

Heat the oven to 400 degrees.  Once your chilling hour is up, roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface to about a 1/8 of an inch thick.  You can either use a tart ring or a standard nine-inch pie plate as your vessel.  Roll the dough up onto your rolling pin for easy transportation, and simply unroll it into your pie plate.  Line the dough with parchment paper, and then add dry beans or some form of small weights to keep the bottom of the crust from rising as you bake.  Put the crust in the oven for 8-10 minutes, just until it starts to turn gold around the edges. 

Remove the crust from the oven, remove the weights and parchment paper and prick the bottom all over with a fork (this is called docking).  The holes will help keep the bottom of the crust from puffing as it continues to bake.  Place your crust in the oven for 2-3 minutes more to let it finish setting up.  Let the crust cool for a few minutes and turn the oven down to 375 degrees. 

Filling:

1 8oz package of cream cheese (room temperature)

1 stick of butter (room temperature)

2/3 Cup of sugar

2 eggs

Big pinch of freshly grated nutmeg

This is the easy part.  Place your butter, cream cheese and sugar in a mixing bowl fitted with the paddle attachment.  Cream them together on medium high for about 4 minutes, occasionally scraping down the sides of the bowl.  Add in your eggs one at a time, thoroughly combining after each one.  Last, add in your nutmeg and call it a day!

Pour your filling into the cooled tart crust and bake in the oven for about 25 minutes.  It will puff up big, golden and beautiful…then deflate into its special tart shape.  You know it’s done when you insert the point of a knife in the center and it comes out clean.

As with many simple seeming things in life, complexity lies hidden within.  The texture is smooth and creamy with the nutmeg sitting on the back of your tongue as a delightful hint of spice.  This really is one of the best “cheesecakes” you’ll ever have.

As I said before, we like to do themed desserts every year to accompany the party, and in years past I was a bit more on the adventurous side.  Last year I made sticky buns for the movie “Doubt”…but we of course called them Father Flynn’s sticky buns because of the subject matter of the film.  In poor taste?  Quite possibly, but I never claimed to be a saint (budumpbump, symbol crash).   Why I don’t have photos of the sticky buns I have no idea, but all I know is they were really delicious.  They were a recipe from Ina Garten’s Back To Basics, and are a bit of a cheat because they are made with frozen puff pastry.  Trust me, no one will ever know or care.

The year prior to the sticky buns must be my favorite; it was certainly the most involved and had the greatest effect.  “There Will Be Blood” was a truly masterful film and I was inspired to take its namesake and turn it into a cake, a red velvet cake to be exact.  Behold:  There Will Be Blood Red Velvet Cake.  I love this one.  I used my Aunt Helen’s recipe for red velvet cake, but I believe I used two bottles of red food coloring instead of the lesser amount called for in the recipe.  It came out red all right!  The frosting was a chocolate buttercream and I covered the top with cocoa dust to simulate the barren lands surrounding an oil field, and made a derrick out of a chocolate bar I scored, cut and glued together with melted chocolate.  When I was done with it I was proud. 

The year before that was the Tower of Babel cake, inspired by the movie “Babel”.  I tried to make a towering cake, each tier a different flavor representing the prominent flavor profiles of the countries featured in the film, and the buttercream frosting on the outside was carved with “stones” using a toothpick.  It was a really good cake too, but we had leftovers for days.  No one needs that many tiers unless they are at a wedding.

As you can see, baking inspiration can come from almost anywhere.  Films are a great resource, and a challenge when put in the context of an Oscar food competition.  One not only has to have creatively imagined food, but it has to taste good too to pull out the win. 

Although we didn’t bet this year, it still was a lot of fun ordering in pizza and eating a classic French tart while celebrating another year in films.  Anytime Meryl Streep is up for an award it’s a good year for Brian, and the fact that she was playing Julia Child made it all the more wonderful for me.  Sadly, Meryl didn’t win (thanks to that lousy Sandra Bullock), but I still hold Julia in my heart and a tart in my belly.  It’s just who I am.

Spicy

Today I want to take you on a swashbuckling journey of excitement, adventure and spices more precious than gold.  An adventure spanning centuries, dating back to a time when “time” was still dated B.C. It’s an epic journey known as the Cardamom Streusel Coffee Cake.

Spices, particularly unusual spices have often intrigued me.  They are what add an elegant and mysterious note to so many savory and sweet dishes.  A hint of cinnamon, cloves or nutmeg take us on a mindful trip to the holiday season while a splash of cumin or coriander has us sipping margaritas on a glorious, sandy beach along with friends. Our cat, Lily, would certainly attest to the powers of spice from the way she flips and flops every time I open the pantry and start to bake.  Black pepper and nutmeg are her favorites and she goes crazier than if I had set her loose in a field of catnip. 

What is this magical power of spice?  Battles have been fought on land and sea to protect this valuable commodity, and it’s the main reason America was discovered in the first place.  After the Ottoman Empire took control of maritime trade routes, the folks in Europe were looking for another way to get to India to acquire their herbal currency.  Several expeditions were undertaken, but the one headed up by Columbus is the most famous.  If it wasn’t for the want of spices we might all still be in Europe (and would that be such a bad thing?).

Cardamom is today’s focus.  It comes in pod form (generally) and is a member of the ginger family.  The taste is somewhat citrus-like and a touch antiseptic, leaving a clean taste in your mouth after consumption.  There are various forms of cardamom, which primarily come from India, particularly around Sri Lanka.  It has been traded right along with cinnamon and nutmeg for many years as a very valuable spice, but I find it’s one I rarely use.  I have a jar of it in my cabinet, already ground (it is recommended that you buy whole pods and roast them in the oven for ten minutes or so to release the most flavor, then grind them up) but it just sits in the back, quietly, waiting to be used as the more popular spices are constantly rotating in and out.  Sometimes I think the cardamom might be sad, but not this week.  I took a note from the Indians (the people from India as opposed the American Indian) and used the lonely cardamom, not as medicine to draw out snake venom or the sting of a scorpion, but in a delicious coffee cake recipe.

My online recipe quest was not nearly as exciting as sailing many miles while battling pirates and scurvy, but is one worth noting.  I was in search of yet another fitting winter recipe…something white in fact.  Reason:  the feet upon feet upon feet of snow we received last week.  I have to tell you, I don’t recall ever seeing so much snow in my life, certainly not where I live.  There are drifts up past my knees (and I’m pretty tall), and the mounds which have been moved by the snow-plows are ridiculous; creating walls 8 feet tall in some parking lots.  Trees were laid low, many broken from the weight of the heavy, thick snow.  Even the butterfly bushes in our garden were bent from a stately 7 feet high all the way down to the ground.  It was sad and amazing at the same time.  We are lucky we didn’t lose power and I was able to get some really nice photos, so all in all I didn’t mind terribly.  Walking around in it is a bit of a pain, yet still pretty.  The sidewalks have taken on a maze-like quality with the shoveled paths cutting through 2 feet or more of drifted snow.  It’s magical and frustrating, but the snowmen the neighbors have been making are magnificent.

Anyway, my point is I was looking for something in the vein of winter to create.  Groan if you will, but I did my usual Martha Stewart recipe search looking for “white desserts”.  There were many things that came up, primarily wedding cakes, but nothing really struck my fancy with the time I had scheduled for my weekend baking.  Then, there it was…an article about a dessert for every month called A Year of Cakes.  Well, we know I’m all about seasonal, and if those seasonal items get broken down into months, even better.  The March dessert was none other than the Cardamom Streusel Coffee Cake.

As I am want to take things into work on Monday’s and had started a new job, it seemed only fitting to start things off right with a nice coffee cake to share.  There are really no suprises here other than the addition of cardamom, and yogurt in lieu of sour cream…but fear not, there is still plenty of butter…nearly four sticks!  This cake has everything you want or crave:  buttery richness, spice and the yummy brown sugary crunch from the crumbly topping and filling.  Having this for breakfast or dessert will send you to a happy and tropical place full of island breezes and buried treasure, and really who doesn’t want that right now?

This dessert seems to be an answer to the question, “when will Spring get here?”  It may not look like it outside right now but it’s coming, and in fact is here in the form of pastry.  There are only a few more weeks to hang on before the crocus, daffodils and forsythia bushes will bloom, greeting us once again with a smile of confirmation that the worst is over and we’ve made it through another cruel winter.  I know I can’t wait any longer so I’ll eat cake and pretend I’m sun bathing in the Caribbean.  It’s just who I am.