Archives for category: Desserts

Yes. I. Did. I so went there. In my last post I solicited ideas for using the leftover almond pulp from making almond milk. And wouldn’t you know my friend Monica wrote in with a great recipe from the Wishful Chef blog. Thank god, because who wants to throw out a pound of perfectly good organic ground-up almonds? Not I. Also, thanks Moni for introducing me to this great blog by a fellow Brooklynite.

So, here goes. One reason I made this, in addition to wanting to use all the leftover almonds, I had all the other ingredients on hand. Flax seeds: check. Coconut oil, almond milk: check, check. I didn’t actually have the two dates called for, but improvised by using dried apricots instead. This is a fast and forgiving recipe—I didn’t even quite measure everything exactly. And feel free to substitute if you don’t have all the right ingredients. No vanilla sugar? Just use sugar and vanilla extract. No coconut oil? You could use walnut oil, grapeseed oil, canola, etc. No dates? Any dried fruit would do.

These are great for a not-so-sweet accompaniment to your late-afternoon tea/coffee run. (Full disclosure: I’ve been eating these for breakfast.) It’s sort of like having almond butter on toast. Sort of. And the dark cocoa powder satisfies chocolate cravings, sans dairy, flour, or eggs. Magic.

While I really like the way these turned out, I will not be bringing them to my grandmother’s on Sunday. I think these definitely fall in the “too scary” category for her taste. Also, they are barely sweet at all. Kiss of death. (More for me.)

Actually, you could add some agave syrup to the mixture to increase the sweetness factor if you want something more desserty, but I kind of like these just the way they are.

Coconut Almond Cookies
Adapted from The Wishful Chef

2 c almond pulp, leftover from making almond milk
2 dates (or apricots, prunes, etc.) chopped and soaked in 2 tbsp hot water, then mashed to a pulp
1/2 c dark cocoa powder
2 tbsp melted coconut oil
2 tbsp coconut flakes
1/3 c almond milk
1 tbsp ground flax seeds
2 tbsp vanilla sugar (or 2 tbsp raw cane sugar plus 1 tsp vanilla extract)
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp agave syrup, optional
powdered sugar, for sprinkling

Preheat the oven to 350 F, and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Combine all the ingredients in a large bowl and mix thoroughly. Roll mixture into balls using about 1 tbsp of dough. Flatten out with the back of a fork, and bake for about 30 minutes. Cool on a wire rack, then sprinkle with powdered sugar.

There’s only one woman who can get away with a dish like crack pie: Momofuku wunderkind Christina Tosi. Owner and head pastry chef at Momofuku Milk Bar, Tosi likes to take people by surprise, serving up desserts like liquid cheesecake and deep-fried apple pie soft serve. Her dishes tend to elicit childhood memories of Corn Pops and cookie dough, pb & j’s and saltines, but in unfamiliar ways. She’s the real-life Willy Wonka, and I believe one day soon, she will turn someone into a giant blueberry and send them floating down Bedford Avenue.

Tosi was trained at the French Culinary Institute and worked at Bouley and WD-50 before stepping foot in David Chang’s Momofuku to work as an office lackey. After Mr. Chang tried her home-baked goods he convinced her to start making desserts for his restaurants, and the rest is history. Now, Tosi is in charge of a staff of Oompa-Loompas working out of a large warehouse in Williamsburg; besides creating the desserts for Momofuku Ko, Ssam Bar, and Noodle Bar, Tosi runs two Milk Bars, one in the East Village and one in the ‘Burg.

In addition to the infamously addictive crack pie, Tosi is perhaps most celebrated for her “cereal milk,” a flavor that appears in soft-serve ice-cream form, as well as straight milk form, made by soaking Special K, Kix, and other old favorites in milk. Subtle genius. I paid a visit to the East Village storefront last week for the strangely wonderful birthday cake truffles, corn cookies, and yes, crack pie, below.

Last fall, Clarkson Potter published the Momofuku Milk Bar cookbook, revealing the secrets behind the candy factory. It’s like finding a golden ticket in a Wonka bar: all her best recipes are there for all to read, and replicate if you’re so adventurous. And that’s just what I did today for my dear friend Elizabeth’s birthday. EZ mentioned recently she’d never had Tosi’s crack pie, and when it was described as being reminiscent of that southern classic, chess pie, she seemed eager to try it.

Making this dish was less arduous than I anticipated. There was no cereal-soaking involved, no potato chips or grape jelly stuffed into batter. Just lots of butter and sugar and egg yolks whisked together, the cornerstone ingredients of Tosi’s empire. (If you get a moment check out the article in the current issue of Edible Manhattan, which talks about Tosi and her relationship with former dairy supplier, Milk Thistle Farm, which sadly went out of business last month.) The pie itself is a smooth, custard-like concoction of brown sugar, cream, butter, eggs, and vanilla, baked in an oat-cookie crust. Not a bad way to bite into one’s birthday.

Happy birthday Elizabeth! One of the things I miss most about Phaidon is getting to work next to you every day.

Crack Pie
Adapted from Christina Tosi

Oat Cookie Crust
Parchment Paper
Nonstick vegetable oil spray
9 tbsp (1 stick plus 1 tbsp) unsalted butter, room temp, divided
5 1/2 tbsp (packed) golden brown sugar
2 tbsp sugar
1 large egg
3/4 cup plus 2 tbsp oats (not instant)
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/8 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp (generous) salt

Filling
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
1 tbsp nonfat dry milk powder (*or 3 tbsp nonfat evap milk)
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted, cooled slightly
6 1/2 tbsp heavy whipping cream
4 large egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla extract
Powdered sugar (for dusting)

Prepare the oat cookie crust
Preheat the oven to 350 F. Line a 13 x 9 x 2 inch metal baking pan with parchment paper; coat with nonstick spray. Combine 6 tbsp butter, 4 tbsp brown sugar, and 3 tbsp sugar in medium bowl. Using an electric mixer, beat the mixture until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add egg, beat until pale and fluffy. Add oats, flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, and beat until well blended, about 1 minute. Turn oat mixture out onto prepared baking pan, and press out evenly to the edges of the pan if possible. Bake until light golden on top, 17 or 18 minutes. Transfer the pan to a rack and cool completely.

Using hands, crumble the oat cookie into a large bowl; add 3 tbsp butter and 1 1/2 tbsp brown sugar. Rub in with fingertips until mixture is moist enough to stick together. Transfer cookie crust mixture to a 9-inch diameter glass pie dish. Using fingers, press mixture evenly into the bottom and sides of the dish. Place pie dish on a flat baking sheet in case of spillage.

Prepare the filling
Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 350 F. Whisk both sugars, milk powder, and salt in medium bowl to blend. (If it’s too darn hard/expensive to buy the powder, you can substitute for 3 tbsp evap milk in the next step.) Add melted butter and whisk until blended. Add cream, egg yolks, and vanilla, and whisk until well blended. (If you’re going to use evap milk instant of powder, use 3 tbsp here, and only 3 1/2 tbsp of the heavy cream.) Pour filling into crust. Bake for 30 minutes (filling may bubble). Reduce oven temp to 325 F. Continue to bake pie until filling starts to brown in spots and sets on the edges but center is still a little wobbly when gently shaken, about 20 minutes longer. Cool pie 2 hours in pie dish on rack. Chill uncovered overnight. Sift powdered sugar lightly over top and serve cold!

Forget salt and pepper, garlic and lemon. The most successful seasoning for what we eat is a good pinch of nostalgia.

I could spend all day reading Nigel Slater. Correction: I have spent whole days reading Nigel Slater.

Slater is one of the best cooks writing today. His food is simple and straightforward, not unlike Jamie Oliver’s or Yotam Ottolenghi’s; it’s seasonally-driven, basic, and satisfies cravings you didn’t know you had. His writing has filled seven cookbooks and countless articles for The Guardian. His 2004 memoir, Toast: the story of a boy’s hunger, kept me up one night until I had no more pages to turn.

When Tender was published in the U.S. last year, combining the UK edition’s two volumes into one 600-page tome, I was eager to get my hands on it and smudge the pages with buttery fingers. Organized by ingredient (this seems to be a popular method in UK cookbooks), I stumbled upon the Beet chapter and not one, but two, cake recipes therein. This guy’s good.

Of course a cake that includes beets, melted dark chocolate, poppy seeds, and crème fraîche called to me, especially one that promised a molten lava center. I remember wanting to make this for my sister Hope’s birthday back in November but decided it was too risky. At last I’ve embarked on the project, during my own birthday week no less.

Turns out this chocolate cake is dreamy, silky, and not too sweet; the beets keep the cake moist without offering a beety flavor. Think carrots in a carrot cake, or zucchini in zucchini bread. The cake is served with tangy crème fraîche and poppy seeds, a playful take on the classic beet and sour cream flavor combination in eastern European cooking.

To serve, I thought of the china I keep in my cupboard that belonged to my father’s mother, my namesake, whom I never met. Reading Nigel Slater always makes me a little nostalgic, and the old, delicate china that once belonged to Mahala McLaughlin seemed like a fitting presentation.

Serve to friends. Serve with love. And you don’t have to tell anyone there are beets inside, unless, like me, they’re into that kind of thing.

Incredibly Moist Chocolate Beet Cake
From Nigel Slater, Tender

8 ounces (240 g) beets, unpeeled and rinsed (approx. 2 beets)
7 ounces (200 g) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
1/4 c (60 ml) hot espresso
7 ounces (200 g) butter, room temp, cut into small cubes
1 cup (135 g) flour
3 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
1 heaping tsp baking powder
5 large eggs, separated, at room temp
1 cup (190 g) superfine, or caster, sugar

Butter the bottom and sides of an 8-inch (20 cm) springform cake pan, then line with a disc of parchment paper. Preheat the oven to 350 F (180 C).

Cook the beets, whole and unpeeled, in boiling, unsalted water for 30 to 40 minutes, with the lid slightly askew. They’re done when a knife can easily pierce through the flesh. Drain and rinse in cold water. When cool, peel them, and pulse in a food processor until they’re a rough purée.

Melt the chocolate in a bowl over a pot of simmering water. Do not stir. When the chocolate is just about all melted, turn off the heat, and add the hot espresso, stirring only once. Add the butter to the melted chocolate, pressing it into the chocolate but not stirring. Leave to soften.

Sift together the flour, cocoa powder, and baking powder. Put your egg whites in a mixing bowl. Stir the egg yolks together by hand.

Working quickly but gently, stir the butter into the melted chocolate, and leave for a few minutes to cool, then stir in the egg yolks. Fold in the beet purée. Whisk the egg whites by hand or using a stand mixer until stiff, then fold the sugar into the egg whites. Fold the egg whites and sugar into the chocolate mixture, careful not to overmix. Fold in the flour and cocoa.

Transfer quickly to the prepared cake pan and put in the oven, turning the temperature down to 325 F (160 C). Bake for 40 minutes; the rim will just barely be separating from the edges and the center will still be a bit wobbly when gently shaken.

Let cool completely in the cake pan on a wire rack (it will sink a little in the center). Loosen around the edges with a butter knife after a half hour or so. Only remove the cake from its pan when it has cooled completely. Serve in thick slices with crème fraiche and poppy seeds. Grandmother’s china optional.