Sweet, Sweet Victory

The path of least resistance is the one most often taken, but not necessarily the road to victory.  Depending on your activity this choice could take the form of an easy or difficult trail to hike in the woods or winning the war of freedom for a country or a state.  In this case, I’m really talking about all three.  This week the struggle of life is realized in a literal hike through a nature preserve, and both historic events of celebrating our country’s independence and the “win” in our battle for equality on a state level.

The past two weeks have been full of changes big and small, and I don’t mean of the coin variety.  Siena has finally started to eat solid food!!  I never thought it would happen.  After her strong dislike for cereal (rice and oatmeal) I was worried she would never move on to something more substantial than Enfamil, but as luck and genetic timetables would have it, she likes sweet potatoes!!  My place of employment had given us a baby food maker as a present when Siena was first born, and I am finally able to put it to good use.  It steams and purees foods all in one and the sweet potato was my first experiment.

I’ve always promoted buying local foods as much as possible, and the thought of making my daughter’s food is very appealing.  I’m not saying I’m going to be able to make everything that goes into her mouth, I certainly don’t make all the toys she chews on these days, but for now, while it’s simple things like one or two vegetables or fruits at a time, it seems criminal not to make fresh food for her.  I love the beba (the baby food machine)!!!  After a very long and patient meal with her, Siena finally began to grasp eating food from the spoon and began an animalistic lunge for said spoon as time went on, getting sweet potatoes all over her, me, the bib, the highchair and everywhere in between.  But she likes it!!!

An even bigger change that came was the passage of law in New York State allowing same sex couples to get married!  This is obviously historic for many reasons, but a major one being the law passed on the anniversary of Stonewall, what many consider to be the beginning of the gay rights movement.  Excerpt from Wikipedia:  “The Stonewall riots were a series of spontaneous, violent demonstrations against a police raid that took place in the early morning hours of June 28, 1969, at the Stonewall Inn, in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of New York City. They are frequently cited as the first instance in American history when people in the homosexual community fought back against a government-sponsored system that persecuted sexual minorities, and they have become the defining event that marked the start of the gay rights movement in the United States and around the world.”  Tired of getting beaten up for being who they were (homosexuality was considered both a crime and a mental disorder for many years), rioters took a stand to say “we are people too, just like you”, and the wigs began to fly!

It’s strange for me to think about this very important beginning.  Growing up in a small town where I definitely couldn’t be publicly gay without fear of violence, it was a scary existence.  The reason I moved to New York was to seek the famed Land of Oz where I could be myself, lost in a crowd of millions who didn’t care what I said or did publicly or privately.  Moving here is still the best choice I ever made for my safety and sanity, and made all the other wonderful things in my life possible.  Though I would have loved for New York to be the first state to legalize same-sex marriage, I’m happy that it has done it at all.  New York is a large, conservative state of which the city is only a part.  NYC is obviously very liberal, but the rest of the state needed a lot of convincing and I’m very, very happy and thankful to all those people out there who put time and effort into changing the political mindset.  One of the big supporters was HRC, the Human Rights Campaign, an organization I support every month.  If you would care to donate and continue the fight you can go here:  http://www.hrc.org/

With all that said, I felt it very important for me to honor this time with a pastry fitting the historic occasion.  The last week in June is always set aside as “Pride” weekend in NYC.  June is pride month, but the city comes together on the last weekend to have the big, crazy, outlandish and magical parade.  They chose this weekend because of the proximity to the Stonewall incident and have been having the parade every year since 1970, sparking other parades and festivities all around the world.  I wasn’t able to attend the parade this year due to fatherly duties, but I was there in spirit.  My offering is the Rainbow Cake. 

The rainbow flag is closely associated with the struggle for equality amongst the LGBT community.  It exemplifies diversity as well as peace, and Dorothy Gale knew better than anyone that something important existed over that rainbow.  She went to Oz and realized she wanted to be home, and I moved to New York City and realized for the first time I was home.  But the honest truth is that home lives inside us all, the best parts of what we call home go with us wherever we go because as my friend Kathryn always used to tell me “no matter where you go, there you are.”  I remembered seeing the rainbow cake on the Martha Stewart Show awhile back, the context for it’s creation was a friend’s going away party, and additionally its something I think kids would adore.  For me, I took it as the patriotic and pastry-esque symbol of my right to be myself, for good or bad and to be treated as an equal.

This cake looks complex, but it really isn’t.  As with many of the things I create for Fabulous Pastries the only requirements are patience and baby steps.  What I love about this recipe is it’s one, simple vanilla cake batter that gets used for all the cakes.  The only difference comes when you add the food coloring.  There are six very thin layers here, and it’s ideal if you have six 9-inch cake pans (I know most people don’t) so you don’t have to cool and wash pans in-between baking.  The layers don’t take more than 15 minutes to bake so you aren’t in the hot summer kitchen for very long regardless.  I made a special trip to buy the food coloring, so I bought the extra pans I needed while I was at it, to make life easier.  You can find the link to the recipe here:  Rainbow Cake.

The real trick with this cake is making sure your layers are even.  Keeping the frosting consistent and level between each colored round is a bit challenging, but made easier by using a lazy Susan to continually rotate the cake around and make sure it’s even.  The colors were so rich and vibrant, made from food paste gels instead of the more liquid food coloring you find in the regular supermarket.  A little bit goes a very long way.  A simple kit of red, yellow, blue, green and black are all you need to get the desired color-scheme.  Though I loved the show-stopping spectacle this cake provided I also want to try using these colors in other cake recipes, possibly creating some subtle monochromatic red/pink or blue cakes. 

I don’t think I’ve ever had a cake so well received, not necessarily for the taste (though it was delicious) but for the sentiment behind it.  Vanilla and buttercream never fail to bring folks together.  All the people I work with, and really most everyone I’ve ever met in New York, were so supportive of the same-sex marriage law and I was happy to share the cake and our victory with them.  Now, if people would only stop asking me if I’m getting married!!!  I mean, I like a ring and a party as much as the next gal, but people give it a rest!!!!  (And thank you for acknowledging and asking).  I’m glad I now have the right to legally be with the person I choose.  It seems odd to me that Brian and I could adopt a child but not be able to marry before now.  We do live in a strange, strange world…

Speaking of more worldly issues (or at least a country-sized one), it’s the 4th of July!!!  Arriving home on the 8:34pm train out of Grand Central brought me to Ossining during the middle of the fireworks display.  I hadn’t planned on seeing any live fireworks this year because night falls way past Siena’s bedtime.  I love these long summer days and muggy nights full of fireflies, particularly the bright sparkly explosive ones coming out over the course of the holiday weekend.  The parking lot of the train station is on the Hudson River, and each year people gather starting in the late afternoon with their lawn chairs and picnic blankets.  Vendors set up their booths with hamburgers, hot dogs, fries and ice cream…all the quintessential American summer foods.  The bandstand gets going about an hour before the star-spangled show while the kids gather as close to the water as possible without falling in, waiting for the patriotic music, sparkling showers and loud bangs to begin. 

I discovered the train platform to be the perfect place to watch the show.  If you go down to the end of the platform, away from the lights and flying bugs, you’ll find an unobstructed view, an un-crowded view and one I wondered why most people weren’t taking advantage of?  I only stayed a few minutes, not wanting to risk seeing the finale and having to fight my way through the throngs of people during the mass exodus.  I made it away from the station and up the hill as the last of the fireworks made themselves known.  I saw just the right amount of the show and didn’t have to deal with a crowd.  All in all I would call it the perfect scenario.

That night I began preparation for my own personal, pastry related show:  Sour Cherry Pie.  I had been threatening to make a cherry pie for weeks.  Andrea and Nathan had announced their plans for a 4th of July get-together a little while back and the mouse in my brain began running on the wheel and turning over options for the perfect dessert to take to the potluck.  I read an article on cherries in the July 2011 Martha Stewart Living and realized I had never made a cherry pie before in my life.   Well, that was a situation needing immediate remedy.  Sour cherries are in season for a brief amount of time and I had been snacking on some in the office, ones that my friend Sara brought in from the Union Square Farmers Market.  They were delicious and precious because of their short seasonal run.  Thus began the more specific search for sour cherry pie recipes.

Narrowing it down further, did I want a top crust or open face…well, that was debatable?  I was interested in something pretty, something traditional and as always a chance to try out a technique I’ve never done before.  In the end a lattice top pie won out.  I’ve never done a lattice crust before, though I’ve seen it done many, many times.  It always looks complicated and beautiful, but as with most things is yet another series of simple steps.  Luckily, Martha has a visual step-by step in her Pies and Tarts book, helping to get me started on the right foot.  I always like to make my pie dough the night before so it has time to rest.  And like most pie and tart recipes I used pate brisee for the crust, yielding enough dough for the bottom and top of a 9-inch pie.

As with many things in my life, I find I don’t have as much time to complete them as I used to.  I never made it to Union Square Market, so I was determined Siena and I would get up and finally make it down to the Ossining Farmer’s Market which is held in the town square every Saturday morning.  The trick is to get there early…not a real problem with a baby in the house, but she is known to sleep in with her dads from time to time.  The morning dawned clear and bright (and hot).  We dressed as lightly as possible and strolled our way down to the stalls of people selling their fruit, vegetables, breads, cheeses, eggs, meats and everything else under the sun.  I always like buying food at the farmer’s market because I get to meet the people (or family members of the people) working hard to put food on my table.  Putting a face to a food product instead of mindlessly grabbing it off the shelf in the grocery store is something I’m always proud to do.

The cherries were there, waiting for us to take them home.  A small grouping of the most beautiful sour cherries were on display in the warm morning sunshine, glistening and fresh directly from their home on the trees.  There were so many beautiful fruits and veggies at the stand I wanted to take home, but I hadn’t really planned to take more than I could fit in the small shelf under the stroller seat.  We grabbed our cherries and setout to look for a few other items.  There were freshly made cheeses and ground beef from a farm in White Plains and eggs from further north in the Hudson Valley, all good things I might need to snack on over the holiday weekend.

With the crust dough ready and waiting, the only major chore left in creating a cherry pie is pitting all those cherries.  I went over many different recipes, looking for the best of the best ingredients called for in the most successful pies.  Some people liked to use vanilla in their pie, some used almond extract, some used lemon juice and all of them used fresh cherries whenever possible or the frozen equivalent if the cherries weren’t in season.  I decided a highbred might be nice so I developed my own filling recipe that starts with 2 pounds of pitted sour cherries.  Pitting cherries is a pain in the butt; there is no way around it so let’s not sugar coat the issue.  It’s something that needs to be done, a means to an end and one certainly worth the time.  Here is what I would call the ultimate summer cherry pie recipe, an adaptation of one of Martha Stewart’s recipes:

Sour Cherry Pie

Ingredients:

All-purpose flour, for dusting

Pate Brisee (recipe follows)

1 cup granulated sugar

3 tablespoons cornstarch (more if berries are particularly juicy)

1/4-teaspoon salt

1/8-teaspoon ground cinnamon

2 pounds (about 6 cups) fresh sour cherries, pitted, or 1 3/4 pounds frozen sour cherries, partially thawed

1-teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1 teaspoon almond extract

1 teaspoon lemon juice

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1 large egg, lightly beaten, for egg wash

Coarse sanding sugar, for sprinkling

Start by making your pate brisee.

Pate Brisee Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1-teaspoon salt

1-teaspoon sugar

1-cup (2 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1/4 to 1/2 cup ice water

Pulse flour, salt, and sugar in a food processor (or whisk together by hand in a bowl).  Add butter, and pulse (or quickly cut in with a pastry blender or your fingertips) until mixture resembles coarse meal, with some larger pieces remaining.  Drizzle 1/4-cup water over mixture.  Pulse (or mix with a fork) until mixture just begins to hold together.  If dough is too dry, add 1/4 cup more water, 1 tablespoon at a time, and pulse (or mix with a fork).

Divide dough in half onto two pieces of plastic wrap.  Gather into two balls, wrap loosely in plastic, and press each into a disk using a rolling pin.  Refrigerate until firm, well wrapped in plastic, 1 hour or up to 1 day.  (Dough can be frozen up to 3 months; thaw in refrigerator before using.)

On a lightly floured surface, roll out 1 disk of dough to a 13-inch round, 1/8 inch thick.  Fit into a 9-inch pie plate, and trim dough, leaving a 1/2-inch overhang; refrigerate or freeze until firm, about 30 minutes.

On lightly floured parchment, roll out second disk of dough 1/8 inch thick.  Using a clean ruler as a guide cut 14 strips (about 1/2 inch wide) with a pastry wheel or sharp knife.  Place strips (and parchment) on a baking sheet, and refrigerate until firm, 10 minutes.

Combine granulated sugar, cornstarch, salt, and cinnamon in a large bowl.  Add cherries, vanilla, almond extract, lemon juice and toss.  Pour cherry mixture into pie plate.  Dot with butter.  Lightly brush exposed edge of shell with beaten egg.

Weave the lattice:  Lay 7 strips of dough across pie.  Fold back every other strip.  Lay another strip perpendicular in center of pie.  Unfold strips over perpendicular strip.  Fold back strips under perpendicular strip.  Lay second perpendicular strip next to first.  Unfold strips over second perpendicular strip.  Repeat, weaving strips across half the pie.  Return to center, lay a perpendicular strip on unwoven side of pie, and repeat.  Trim strips to 1-inch overhang.  Tuck overhang under edge of shell, and crimp to seal.  Brush lattice with egg wash, and sprinkle with sanding sugar.  Refrigerate or freeze 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Transfer pie plate to a parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet.  Bake until crust is golden brown and juices are bubbling; if using fresh cherries, begin checking after 1 hour; if using frozen, about 95 minutes.  (If top browns too quickly, tent with foil.)

Transfer pie to a wire rack; let cool completely.  Pie can be kept at room temperature, tented with foil, up to 1 day.

The most difficult thing about making this pie, other than not getting confused with which strips to pull back and weave during lattice creation, is the July heat.  It’s been in the 90’s here and humid to boot.  The kitchen in our house seems to hold all the heat of the day and it is always best to work with chilled pie dough.  The recipe has several steps for letting the pie crust rest in the freezer, but if it’s really hot you may want to pop your pie into the fridge every few minutes or so, especially when working with the thin lattice strips.  Once they warm up, they get a little sticky and soft, so work quickly!  I used a decorative pastry cutter, giving the lattice pieces a nice fluted edge, and the key to keeping the shapes intact is to make sure you freeze your completed pie for a half an hour before baking it.  It’s similar to Christmas cookies; if you take all the time to cut out gorgeous shapes and put them in the oven without chilling you end up with a sad, blobby mess, and we don’t want sad, blobby cookies or pies.

By the time Sunday the 3rd rolled around the heat had dissipated somewhat, but the rain had begun to roll in.  Not necessarily the ideal weather to have when 50+ people are coming to your house and there is a giant pig roasting in the backyard.  Only Nathan would be so brave as to roast a whole pig, and only Andrea would be willing to invite that many people to their house, very young and active children in tow, to celebrate our country’s independence.  Luckily, by the time the party got into full swing, the rainy, swampy weather let up enough for everyone to roam about the lawn, the kids to play on the swing set and for all the manly men (and not so manly men) to gather around the giant roasting box topped with coal containing one gigantic pig.

I have to say I was a little nervous at how Nathan might pull this one off, but he did so with flying colors.  The pork was delicious and the guys had a lot of fun cutting it up.  The children and adults alike were both afraid and amused by the lone pig head sitting in the aluminum pan, cheeks carved up like something out of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre; truly a sight to behold.  Neighbors and town friends showed up with their designated potluck items:  casseroles, coleslaw, delicious jalapeno corn muffins, pies, cookies, chips and homemade ice cream.  If it wasn’t there on the table, we didn’t need it.  Andrea was so kind to save my pie a “star” spot on the buffet, elevating it with a lovely cake stand and making me feel like the belle of the pastry ball.  Everyone had a good time eating their fill and I got a lot of very nice compliments on the pie.  The only problem being that it was gone by the time Brian went to get any and cherry is his favorite (Sorry, honey…my public mea culpa.)

By the time the sun was setting, strangers were all friends, fingers and plates had been licked clean and all the children were making their way home to bed after an exciting day of play.  I have to say it’s nice having friends so close to our home willing to throw a big party, mess and all, but allowing us to sneak out without too much cleanup and providing picnic leftovers on top of it all.  I don’t think we could have had a better time.

On July 4th, we rested…well, not quite.  This was the big day!  Independence for all, including Siena’s stomach, the monumental day of the sweet potato and also the discovery of Rockefeller State Park.  This park/nature preserve is only about ten minutes from our house.  We had passed by its gates many times on the way to Stone Barns (our favorite country haunt).  The lands are adjacent to each other, but we had never swung that right turn into the park and had been meaning to for several years now.  Izabella and Jonathan had taken Mia not too long ago for a hike/stroll around the lake and came back with some beautiful photos.  The day was sunny and bright and seemed a shame not to do something fun on the actual holiday.

We had planned to hook up with Nathan, Andrea and Finn to have some leftover BBQ sandwiches, but they were knee deep in party recovery.  I suggested we all go to the park, but understandably they could not be swayed.  However, an 80-pound pig does tend to have some leftovers even after such a large party, so Andrea suggested stopping by to pick up some pork, coleslaw and cookies to make a picnic out of our park excursion.  I could hardly pass that up, so off we went for a little pork and a little afternoon lunch under the trees.

The park wasn’t at all what I was expecting.  When you think park you think a few picnic tables, a pavilion, maybe a playground or two, but this is a nature preserve.  Though it did have the requisite picnic tables not too far from the parking lot, the park is really miles and miles of hiking /carriage/horse trails leading over the river and through the woods, out into the wide open country.  We took a map from the gatekeeper and were off. 

I talk about fresh air from time to time in this blog, the country air I miss from childhood, the air that reminds me of playing in the woods with my cousins.  Well, this air is at Rockefeller State Park.   The place was fairly deserted, probably because most people were at the river or the beach so it felt like our own little world.  We walked along the lake and then off into the lush, green, overgrown forest of hills.  The air was as fresh as fresh can be and the place was just so alive.  Their were chipmunks crawling all over the place chasing bugs, squirrels were out causing their usual mischief and tons and tons of wild raspberry bushes flanked the trails with the first berries coming on…I think I know what ingredient I need to use next week. 

The map we were given was a copy and a little hard to read making the adventure all the more fun.  The further out we got, the slightly more directionally confused we became, but the disorientation and subtle possibility of being lost made it exciting and quest-like.  As we walked through the woods and fantasized about building a house far away from the rest of the world I realized it’s not impossible.   There are always choices to be made, it’s figuring out the goal in the first place that can be difficult.  I will have my Wee house in the woods someday, but until then we have miles of countryside we can roam very close to our city house.

Obviously the metaphor of “the path” is an often-used one, but it’s that way for a reason.  We are presented with paths and choices to make on a daily basis.  Sure, some of them are as simple as “what do I want for lunch” and some as big as what do I want for my life.  Some choices being even bigger than us such as granting independence and full rights to deserving citizens.  We all deserve the right to make choices for our families and ourselves.  It’s even better when the government supports the choices we make and allow us to live the best possible life we can.  


This Independence Day I’m thankful for more than our country’s revolt against the British, I’m thankful for our state’s revolt against those with closed and sometimes angry minds.  I’m also thankful for the little things such as delicious sweet potatoes encouraging our daughter to eat, and sour cherries that remind us why it’s best to eat ingredients when they are at their peak…and the red color looks awfully nice with a blue pie plate and a white dish- towel.  I’m all for having freedom of choice, both personal and aesthetic.  It’s just who I am.