Although my taste runs to salty, (as does my humour, on occasion), there are several sweet breads that I find irresistible. Some recipes come from my family, and represent loaves we have eaten for generations, while others are from way out in left field and simply appeal to me as being sensational breads, cakes, or cookies – breads you would want to have in an eclectic repertoire.
A word on sugar: white sugar is brown sugar is honey is molasses is sucrose is glucose (or dextrose) is fructose. There exist very few differences between them, except what we think about them. I meet many people who have a pathological fear of white sugar and only want raw or “natural” sugars in their diets. I believe that everyone should have exactly what he or she wishes, but chemically, sugar is sugar is sugar, and if you really want to eat the one that is best for you (in the most minute way), eat molasses!
White sugar is composed mainly of sucrose, with a tiny bit of fructose, a few minerals, and some water. Brown sugar is mainly sucrose, too, except with a bit more fructose and a slightly higher percentage of minerals. Molasses is about a third sucrose, a third minerals and fructose, and a third water, carbohydrates, and nitrogen – so if a tiny jolt of nitrogen is prescribed in your diet, eat molasses.
Moderation is a useful word in a world of food fanaticism. The sugar we derive from fruits may appear to be more healthy than the sugar in a slice of chocolate mousse cake, but in reality your body does not differeniate among kinds of sugar, so having a moderate slice of dessert every once in a while is not cause for panic. If you eat more calories than you burn, you will gain weight, no matter what kind of food you ingest, but small servings of a sweet once or twice a week are not necessarily dangerous. At any rate, sugar is the “standard currency of chemically stored energy for all plants and animals on earth”, says food scientist and author Harold McGee, and as such, should be treated with respect and consideration in our foods. Along with consideration, add moderation.
The argument I have with recipes for breads that contain sugar in any form is that most of them call for too much. This goes for many, many desserts, too. I have to mention here that my favourite cooks, the Italians, do not really have many recipes for sweets or desserts, as do some other countries in the western world. They often finish their meals with a bowl of beautiful fruit or a little cheese, and rarely dilute the beauty of a perfectly balanced menu with a sticky, heavy, creamy, buttery, and over-sugared sweet. There are a few delectable exceptions, such as tiramisu, Sardinian sabadas, and the wildly sweet Sicilian cassata, but still, the basic ingredient in tiramisu is mascarpone cheese and there is not much sugar added because of the savoiardi biscuits used as the base of the dessert. The cream that many cooks insist on adding is absolutely not a part of an authentic tiramisú. And Sardinian sabadas are filled with dolce Sardo, a cheese.
A good thing is a good thing, and too much of a good thing always tastes exactly as you would expect. By now, you know that I have strong opinions on cooking, and the use of sugar is no exception. Even the Italians, who are capable of making a very good gelato, sometimes (depending on the gelato shop) go overboard with sugar so that the beautiful flavours of the fruit, nuts or chocolate are sometimes masked by a cloying sweetness. The same applies to breads: Our goal is to keep the taste of the main ingredients in the limelight without upstaging them with sugar.
A perfect example of how sugar is used delicately to counterbalance the lovely, buttery quality of the dough is my Czech grandmother’s (Big Mama’s) Kolaches in this chapter. You could say that a kolache is a kind of turnover and, just as some turnovers or dumplings can be as heavy as lead, the dumplings sinking to the bottom of a soup rather than floating lazily on top, there are also many versions of kolaches that one could easily use as paperweights. Fortunately, my grandmother had a light hand with dough, which is very important to keep in mind with dessert dough. Any bread or pastry containing butter or sugar must be handled as if you were mixing fragile butterfly wings. Schiacciata with Roasted Grapes is an exception, as it requires many little dents, made with the fingers, to rise evenly, much like pizza or focaccia.
Cakes, too, must be mixed with a deft hand so as not to beat all of the life out of the batter, especially Gabriella’s Ricotta Cake and the Sourdough Lemon Cake, which require the egg whites to be beaten and then folded into the batter.
When I began experimenting with starters in cakes, using a tiny pinch of yeast, it was because of an intense curiosity about whether bread techniques would work for lighter baked goods, as well as to see how the yeast would interact with sweet batter. What a surprise to find that the starter imparted a subtle new taste to the cakes and also gave the crumb a lovely light texture, as in the Sourdough Lemon Cake. I included the recipe for Girl Scout Chocolate Cake because it is the tastiest and simplest cake to make that I know. There are richer cakes, lighter cakes, and mousses and tortes, but this is a cake for all seasons, light and easy.
I chose to put our tozzetti in this chapter because they are a perfect complement to sorbet or ice cream, without danger of being heavy. To make up for all my opinionated views on desserts and sweets, I urge you to make the sinfully rich Wild Turkey Ice Cream to go with tozzetti. This is an unforgettable gelato which relies on the unbeatable team of bourbon and chocolate to offset the very small amount of sugar in the recipe, while imparting a richness not often found in most standard ice creams. This recipe will convince you that the simplest ice creams are the best: cream, sugar, sometimes egg yolks, and one other ingredient are usually enough. Try to use no sweet liqueurs or artificial flavours, and put the ice cream mixture through a seive before freezing for perfect texture.
Many sweet breads and desserts are seasonal. In California we have an abundance of grapes, and so I make my own raisins, using the Red Flame grapes of autumn for Roasted Grapes in Schiacciata. Because of their high sugar content, these grapes caramelize quickly in the oven and turn into the succulent little morsels known as raisins. And there is nothing as seductive as intense, ripe summer apricots or crisp, fragrant autumn apples caramelized into a perfect apricot or apple tarte Tatin. But these desserts derive most of their sugar from the fruit, not from cupfuls of granulated sugar.
We all love sweet tastes, be it in elaborate desserts, simple sorbets, or luscious ripe fruits. Our body needs sugar, just as it needs proteins and fats at different times. If you eat a light ricotta cake or fruit with a tozzetto for most of your desserts, you will be able to indulge once in a while in an irresistible high-rise of whipped cream-topped decadence. And besides, a great rationalization for eating any dessert is to tell yourself that all the chemically stored energy is going to burst forth on the treadmill – just as soon as you finish that last bite.
The brioche is to me as the madeleine is to Proust. I first encountered brioches on the Île de France steamship when my friend, Nan, and I were given a first-class stateroom because of a mix-up in the booking! We took turns lolling in the oversized gimbaled bath tub, devouring caviar at the captain’s table and enjoying our first real French brioches for breakfast each morning. Two naïve little Texans were completely transformed into worldly Francophiles (we knew “oui” and “mercí”) when the ship reached Calais, perhaps because we were saturated in everything French for five days, but in the end it was the brioches that won us over. Golden and rich with more butter than a croissant in every bite, brioche is still the queen of breakfast breads.
After this momentous trip, brioche became part of my weekly baking, and I thought I had learned everything about it. It was only years later, when I met Celestino Drago, a Sicilian lauded in Los Angeles for his successful restaurants, that I learned the trick of using brioche in bread pudding. When made with brioche in place of bread, this very earthy dessert is to bread pudding as the Île de France is to a tugboat.
Makes: 20 small brioches
Sponge:
15 ml/1 tablespoon active dry yeast
120 ml/½ cup warm water (30-35°C/85-95°F)
125 g/1 cup sifted plain (all-purpose) flour
Brioche paste:
345 g/2¾ cups unbleached plain (all-purpose) flour
45 ml/3 tablespoons water or warm milk
45 ml/3 tablespoons sugar
5 ml/1 teaspoon salt
6 large eggs
TO MAKE THE SPONGE: Stir the yeast into the water and add the flour to make a soft dough. Place the dough in a bowl set in a larger bowl of very warm water, cover, and let it rise to the surface. Or, place the dough in a bowl, cover, and let rise for 30 minutes to become a sponge. It will then be ready to mix with the brioche paste.
TO MAKE THE BRIOCHE PASTE: In the bowl of a mixer set on low speed, or by hand, blend 190 g/1½ cups of the flour with the water, sugar, and salt. Beat in 1 egg at a time. Add the remaining 155 g/1¼ cups flour and blend just until the dough resembles a smooth sticky golden paste.
Carefully add the sponge and mix just until incorporated. Remove from the bowl with a spatula onto a smooth hard surface, such as marble, granite or Formica. Now the fun begins. Wash and dry your hands well. Scoop up the brioche paste with one hand and throw it against the surface again and again, until the dough does not stick to the surface or your hands and is very elastic. It is a lovely way to work out any aggressions, but mostly the dough is so silky and buttery that it’s very pleasing to handle. Dip your fingers in flour from time to time if the dough is tacky. Mix in the butter, a few tablespoons at a time, until it is incorporated, keeping the dough elastic.
280 to 330 g/20 to 24 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature (with the texture of modelling clay)
1 egg yolk beaten with 15 ml/1 tablespoon water
Form the dough into a ball and place in a buttered bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rise until doubled in volume, about 1 hour. The dough will be beautifully light and golden.
SAME DAY METHOD: Refrigerate the dough for at least 4 hours before forming the brioche. It will rise and take on flavour. The dough will fall slightly when you shape the brioche, but will rise again in the muffin tin or brioche mould before baking.
OVERNIGHT METHOD: Refrigerate overnight. Remove the dough and proceed with shaping instructions.
FORMING THE BRIOCHE: Butter a 20-hole muffin tin or 20 individual fluted brioche moulds (found in kitchen shops). Using two-thirds of the dough, form it into little round balls about 5 cm/2 inches in diameter or large enough to fill half of each muffin mould. Make the same number of smaller balls of dough with the remaining third of dough. With scissors, cut an X in the top of each of the larger balls (see illustration) and press the smaller ball down into the x. Cover with a dry cloth and let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, 30 to 40 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 220°C/425°F/gas 7. Brush each brioche with the beaten egg yolk mixture. (In France, this is called the dorure, which is used as a glaze for many egg breads.) Bake for about 15 minutes or until nicely browned. Serve with fresh fruit purée.
My grandmother made all of her own breads and pastries, among them the sweet rolls called kolaches, stuffed with poppy seeds, fruit, or farmer’s cheese. In the Czech and German community of Weimar, Texas (there was once even a tiny town called Shimek, our family name, which most likely was a couple of chicken coops and a possum trot), a lot of kolaches changed hands, but undeniably Bigmama’s were different. Her dough fairly lifted off the table, even when weighed down with seductive fillings. The same satiny dough was made into “twisties”, dipped in the heavenly combination of butter and coarse sugar, which we children devoured, fresh from the oven. Her twisties and kolaches were famous among her friends, many of whom often could be found chatting in Czech in her big white kitchen.
A large white enamel table stood in the middle of the kitchen where Bigmama and my Aunt Isabel would stretch fine, butter dough until it was paper thin, and then mix apples, cinnamon, and sugar to make the filling for airy strudel or individual pastries. Bigmama was not big at all, despite a daily diet of luscious pastries and breads from her fragrant kitchen. Her heart, however, was as big as her white kitchen table from which so many good things fell into our waiting hands.
Makes: 16 kolaches
100 g/½ cup unsalted butter, softened
50 g/¼ cup sugar
2 large eggs
240 ml/1 cup dairy sour cream or plain yogurt
5 ml/1 teaspoon salt
14 g/1 tablespoon active dry yeast
60 ml/¼ cup lukewarm water (30-35°C/85-95°F)
240 ml/1 cup milk, warmed
625 g/5 cups unbleached plain (all-purpose) flour
TO PREPARE THE DOUGH: In a large mixing bowl, beat together the butter and sugar until creamy. Add the eggs, sour cream, and salt. Dissolve the yeast in the water and stir into the mixture. Gradually add the milk and flour and stir until the dough is smooth and satiny.
Using about 5 ml/1 teaspoon of melted butter, butter a clean bowl and place the dough in the bowl. Cover tightly and refrigerate for about 2 hours or overnight. The dough will rise in the refrigerator and gain flavour.
TO SHAPE ROLLS: Remove dough from the refrigerator and let stand, covered, in a warm place for about 45 minutes. Rub 2 baking sheets with melted butter.
Divide the dough in half and shape each portion into 8 little round flat cakes. Arrange the cakes 7.5 cm/3 inches apart on the baking sheets. With your thumb, make a wide, deep indentation in the centre of each for the filling. Spoon about 10 ml/2 teaspoons of the filling into each indentation. Close the dough over the filling by gathering the outside of the flattened cake and pulling it together like a drawstring purse over the filling. Flatten the cakes (see illustration). Brush the kolaches with the remaining melted butter, cover, and let rise for about 30 minutes or until doubled.
About 45 ml/3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Poppy Seed Filling, (page 104), Prune Filling (page 105), Apricot Filling (page 104), or Cottage Cheese Filling (page 105)
45 ml/3 tablespoons sifted icing (confectioners’) sugar, optional
TO SHAPE TWISTIES: Divide dough into 6 parts and roll each with the flat of your hands into a long worm of dough about 2 cm/¾ inch thick. Form each in a “U” of dough, like a hairpin, and then twist one strand with the other (see illustration). Lay on buttered baking sheets, brushed with melted butter, and let rise until doubled.
TO BAKE ROLLS AND TWISTIES: Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Bake the rolls and twisties for 20 to 25 minutes, or until golden brown. Transfer to cooling racks. If desired, sift a bit of powdered sugar over them to make them festive.
NOTE: Dip twisties in melted butter, then in granulated or coarse sugar before or after baking.
Makes: about 240 ml/1 cup
145 g/1 cup ground poppy seeds (see Note)
135 g/⅔ cup sugar
Pinch of salt
120 ml/½ cup plus a little more milk or cream
30 g/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
5 ml/1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Place the poppy seeds, sugar, and salt in a heavy saucepan and stir over low heat until the sugar is melted. Stir in the milk and butter and cook slowly for about 20 minutes until thick. Add a little more liquid if needed. Remove from the heat, stir in the vanilla and cool. Use to fill Kolaches, as directed.
NOTE: To grind poppy seeds to release more flavour, put them in a coffee grinder or spice grinder. Measure before or after grinding. If you prefer, leave them whole – it makes little difference.
APRICOT FILLING
Makes: about 150 g/1 cup
One 225 g/8-ounce package dried apricots or 450 g/3 cups fresh apricot halves
135 g/⅔ cup sugar
5 ml/1 teaspoon lemon juice
In a saucepan, combine the dried apricots with just enough water to cover (if using fresh, combine with 120 ml/½ cup of water as fresh apricots will generate juice). Bring to a simmer and cook until soft. Add the sugar and lemon juice and cook over low heat for about 20 minutes until thick and shiny. Cool and use to fill Kolaches, as directed.
Makes: about 150 g/1 cup
225 g/8-ounce pack pitted prunes
5 ml/1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
Pinch of salt
Pinch of ground cinnamon or mace
In a saucepan, combine the prunes with just enough water to cover. Add lemon zest, bring to a simmer and cook until soft. Add the salt and cinnamon or mace and cook 1 minute longer. Cool and process in a food processor for a few seconds to blend all ingredients or mash with a fork. Use to fill Kolaches, as directed.
COTTAGE CHEESE FILLING
Makes: about 150 g/1 cup
225 g/1 cup large or small curd cottage cheese
100 g/½ cup sugar
30 g/¼ cup toasted breadcrumbs (crumbs made from rosemary focaccia are good in this)
1 large egg yolk
15 ml/1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
Pinch of mace
Pinch of salt
Loosen the lid on the container of cottage cheese or loosely cover a measured cup and leave it on the countertop at room temperature for about 12 hours to sour.
Mix the cottage cheese, sugar, breadcrumbs, egg, lemon zest, mace, and salt until very smooth. Use to fill Kolaches, as directed.
Every Wednesday I get a free trip to Europe when I visit the Santa Monica Farmer’s Market. There I can find, in season, luscious Blenheim apricots – which are, as any grower will tell you, the crème de la crème of apricots. They are only available for three weeks in July, and it is then that I freeze flats of them, whole, and use them in this focaccia in place of dried apricots. (Wash and dry them before you freeze them in 225 g/8-ounce portions.) Their flavour is so intense it is as if they had been dried already but still retained their juice. Sometimes you can actually find the dried ones in packages marked “Blenheim”, and if you do, buy plenty!
Makes: about 2 focacce
225 g/8 ounces dried apricots or frozen whole Blenheim apricots, defrosted
360 ml/1½ cups water (for dried apricots only)
14 g/1 tablespoon active dry yeast
480 ml/2 cups lukewarm water (30-35°C/85-95°F)
TO PREPARE THE APRICOTS: Place the dried apricots and water in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for 10 to 15 minutes, or until tender. Drain, reserve the liquid, and set the fruit aside to cool. When cool, chop into 1 cm/½-inch pieces.
IF USING FROZEN APRICOTS: Defrost and chop them into 1 cm/½-inch pieces. Do not cook.
TO MAKE THE BREAD: Measure the water into a large bowl. Sprinkle the yeast over the water and stir until dissolved. Stir in the cooled apricot liquid, chopped apricots, flour, and salt. Stir until well blended. If necessary, stir in an additional 75 g/½ cup more of flour. Cover the bowl and let the dough rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, 30 to 45 minutes.
625 g/5 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
10 ml/2 teaspoons salt
30 ml/2 tablespoons olive oil
100 g/½ cup turbinado, raw brown sugar, or dark brown sugar
5 ml/1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
TO SHAPE THE FOCACCIA: Preheat the oven to 260°C/500°F/gas 10. Oil two 46 x 30 cm/18 x 12-inch baking sheets.
Carefully scrape half of the dough onto each sheet without deflating too much. Brush the dough with 15 ml/1 tablespoon of olive oil.
To make the traditional focaccia with indentations, dip your fingers into cold water and insert them straight down into the dough. Make holes in the dough by pulling it to the sides about 2.5 cm/1 inch at a time. Pull the holes at random to form little craters all over with the pan showing through where you have put your fingers. As you work, stretch the dough into a 2.5 cm/1-inch thick oval. Brush with the remaining 15 ml/1 tablespoon of olive oil. Stir together the sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over the focaccia. Let rise in a warm place for 15 to 25 minutes.
TO BAKE THE FOCACCIA: Place the tins in the oven and reduce the oven temperature to 230°C/450°F/gas 8. Bake for 15 to 18 minutes, or until golden brown and the smell drives you crazy. Cool on wire racks and cut into wedges or rectangles.
NOTE: You may decorate the top of the focaccia with apricots pushed into the dough at random.
With the exception of the sourdough Filocino Integrale on page 48, whole-wheat breads have not captured my attention as much as country breads with large-holed crumb structure and nice chewy crusts. I love a BLT on whole wheat, or chappatis with my curry, but in general, I like whole-wheat bread for breakfast with things in it: nuts, fruit and other grains for texture. This one evolved out of chappati dough one day when I was fooling around with whole-wheat flour, and it remains in my repertoire mostly because of its texture and for its breakfast qualities. I say breakfast, only because its sweetness makes great toast, but I eat tuna fish on this bread and call it my “Sicilian sandwich”, as many Sicilian dishes are both salty and sweet.
Makes: 2 loaves
360 ml/1½ cups warm milk
25 g/½ cup wheat bran
60 ml/¼ cup unsalted butter, melted, or 60 ml/¼ cup olive oil
45 ml/3 tablespoons honey or molasses
15 ml/1 tablespoon salt
5 ml/1 teaspoon unsweetened cocoa powder
30 ml/ 2 tablespoons active dry yeast
TO MAKE THE DOUGH: Combine the milk, wheat bran, butter or olive oil, honey or molasses, salt, and cocoa, stir well, and set aside to cool.
Measure the water into a bowl. Sprinkle the yeast over the water and stir until dissolved. Add the milk mixture alternately with the flour, prunes, and nuts, stirring well until the dough pulls away from the sides of the bowl. If necessary, stir in an additional 65 g/½ cup of flour. Turn the dough out onto a floured board and turn it over on itself a few times to distribute the fruit and nuts evenly.
SAME DAY METHOD: Place the dough in an oiled bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let the dough rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, about 1 hour. Whole-wheat dough is heavier than white bread dough and needs more time to rise. Proceed with the shaping instructions.
OVERNIGHT METHOD: Place the dough in an oiled bowl, cover, and refrigerate overnight. The dough will rise in the refrigerator and acquire flavour from the slower yeast action. Remove the dough 2 hours before shaping and let stand, covered, in a warm place. Proceed with shaping instructions.
120 ml/½ cup lukewarm water (30-35°C/85-95°F)
260 g/2 cups whole-wheat flour
150 g/1 cup chopped, stewed prunes
30 g/⅓ cup walnut pieces
30 g/⅓ cup ground walnuts
375 g/3 cups unbleached plain (all-purpose) flour
55 g/½ cup graham, rye, or any other dark flour
TO SHAPE LOAVES: Heat the oven to 230°C/450°F/gas 8. Oil 2 loaf tins. Carefully pour the dough into each tin and let the dough sit for about 30 minutes to rise again.
TO BAKE LOAVES: Bake for about 15 minutes, turn the tins around and continue baking for 10 to 15 minutes longer, or until the bread sounds hollow when you thump it and the tops are nicely browned. If the bread falls after the first 15 minutes of baking, reduce the oven temperature to 200°C/400°F/gas 6. Cool on a wire rack.
SCHIACCIATA WITH ROASTED GRAPES
The schiacciata (pronounced skee-ah-cha-tah) is a Tuscan bread made most often during the grape harvest to celebrate nature’s success at once again supplying the world with good wine. It is much like a focaccia, except in two layers, and sweet instead of salty, with the addition of grapes or raisins. My schiacciata is different from most in that the dough is not as sweet and so complements the very, very sweet grapes that I use. I slow-roast the grapes, which turns them into glorified, elegant raisins that give the schiacciata its intense taste. I also try to make the dough as thin as possible in order to get a good crunch along the edges. In Italy, the dough is made with lard, which is high in cholesterol but also very flavourful. However, lard also makes a heavier dough, and so I use olive oil, which contains no saturated fats or cholesterol and which gives the bread the same “short” (crisp) texture and flavour without the wear and tear on your arteries. But if you would like to taste the original flavour of schiacciata, by all means, use lard.
Once a year can’t hurt you.
Makes: One large flatbread
360 ml/1½ cups lukewarm water (30-35°C/85-95°F)
1 package active dry yeast
55 g/¼ cup sugar
1 large egg, beaten, optional
400-500 g/3¼-4 cups unbleached plain (all-purpose) flour
60 ml/¼ cup olive oil or 55 g/¼ cup lard, plus more oil for brushing
10 ml/2 teaspoons salt
TO MAKE THE DOUGH: Measure the water into a bowl. Sprinkle the yeast over the water. Add the sugar and egg and beat well. Add the flour, olive oil, and salt, and mix well, stirring until the dough is smooth and satiny and pulls away from the sides of the bowl. (If you are using lard, cut the lard into the flour, as you would for pie crust, before adding the flour to the wet mixture.) Place in an oiled bowl, cover, and refrigerate overnight. Remove dough from the refrigerator and let stand, covered, in a warm place until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.
TO SHAPE DOUGH: Brush a 33 x 45 cm/13 x 18-inch baking sheet with olive oil. Place half the dough on the baking sheet and begin to stretch it into a very thin circle to the edges of the sheets, as you would for pizza. Brush with olive oil and spread half of the roasted grape mixture over the dough.
On a floured surface, roll out the remaining dough to a similar circle and, lifting carefully, place it over the grape layer (you may do this more easily by dusting the circle with a little flour, and rolling it up loosely, flour side in, and then unrolling it over the grapes. Press the 2 circles together to push out the air. Dip your fingers in cold water or olive oil and make indentations over the top of the dough. Make holes in the dough by pulling it to the sides of the baking sheet, about 2.5 cm/1 inch at a time. Pulling the holes at random will form small craters all over the dough, with the tin showing through in spots. The dough should be oval and stretched to fit almost the entire baking sheet. Brush the dough with the olive oil and sprinkle the remaining grapes evenly over the dough. Sprinkle with the sugar and let rest for 15 minutes.
450 g/3 cups Suzanne’s Roasted Grapes (see below)
45 to 60 ml/3 to 4 tablespoons raw turbinado or white sugar
TO BAKE THE SCHIACCIATA: Preheat the oven to 260°C/500°F/gas 10. Bake for 5 minutes, then lower heat to 200°C/400°F/gas 6 and continue to bake for 20 minutes or until golden brown. (Do not allow the grapes to burn, which can happen quickly.) Transfer to a large wire baking rack to cool. Serve warm or cooled, cut into strips with a glass of red wine.
SUZANNE’S ROASTED GRAPES
I have never seen anyone roast grapes for recipes, but after I inadvertently left a pan of grapes in the oven to dry, turned the heat to 180°C/350°F/gas 4 instead of 65°C/150°F and, as usual, went out to the garden, I was surprised to find delectable little morsels when I returned. Roasted grapes can also be used in other dishes such as grilled quail with grapes, panettone, plum pudding, soaked in Cognac and spooned over ice cream, or to make one helluva bowl of morning cereal!
Makes: About 720 ml/3 cups
5 ml/1 teaspoon olive oil
About 1.5 kg/3 pounds seedless Red Flame grapes (see Note)
Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Oil a baking sheet with olive oil. Stem the grapes and spread over the sheet.
Roast the grapes, turning once or twice with a large spatula, for about 1 hour, or until the grapes have collapsed and begun to turn brown around the edges. Remove them from the oven before they are completely browned and dried like raisins. Set aside to cool.
NOTE: The high sugar content of Red Flame grapes makes them ideal for roasting, but experiment with other types to find your own favourite.
This is a very simple recipe, invented one day when I remembered that I had invited a special friend to a birthday dinner but had completely forgotten the cake. My lemon trees had just given me a generous gift of fruit and I did have a little flour around. (My mother’s answer to such emergencies was to keep cake mixes in the cupboard, and elevate them with extra butter or spices or what have you, in this case, lemon juice and zest, but I hadn’t bought a mix for years. Sometimes, I seriously reconsider this little trick.)
Eliminate the sourdough starter if you like, but it gives a little zing to the batter and reacts well with the lemon zest. The cake is very good served with fruit purée.
Makes: One 23 cm/9-inch cake
Starter:
45 ml/3 tablespoons buttermilk
45 ml/3 tablespoons unbleached all-purpose flour
4 to 5 drops lemon juice
Tiny pinch of yeast dissolved in 15 ml/1 tablespoon of water
Cake:
160 g/¾ cup unsalted butter
250 g/1¼ cups sugar
3 large eggs, separated
15 ml/1 tablespoon lemon juice
5 ml/1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
188 g/1½ cups unbleached plain (all-purpose) flour
5 ml/1 teaspoon baking soda
5 ml/1 teaspoon salt
240 ml/1 cup buttermilk or yogurt
10 ml/2 teaspoons lemon or orange zest
TO MAKE THE STARTER: Combine the buttermilk, flour, lemon juice, and yeast-water mixture. Stir well to aerate the mixture and form a wet dough. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let ferment overnight at room temperature.
TO MAKE THE CAKE: Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Butter and flour a 23 cm/9-inch round cake tin.
In a large bowl, cream the butter. Add the sugar, egg yolks, lemon juice, vanilla, and starter, beating until smooth.
Mix the flour, baking soda, and salt and add to the batter, alternating with the buttermilk, mixing well after each addition.
Beat the egg whites until they are glossy and hold soft peaks. Carefully fold in the beaten egg whites and the lemon or orange zest. Pour into the cake tin and bake for about 45 minutes, or until the top of cake springs back when gently touched.
GOLDEN CORNMEAL TORTA DELLA NONNA
Every “nonna” (grandmother) in Italy has a version of this cornmeal cake, and since I am a third, seminonna to six Italian grandchildren (thanks to my husband’s daughter and son!) I, too, have created my own. The seductive texture and richness of cornmeal drives me mad, which is why I use it in so many dishes. It is amazing to me that the very same grainy substance which makes a soft and creamy polenta for wild mushrooms or sausages can segue right into this crumbly rich dessert cake. The inclusion of a soured mash starter for this cake gives it a tangy taste not often found in cornmeal torte.
Makes: One 23 cm/9-inch cake
Starter:
75 g/½ cup stoneground yellow cornmeal
120 ml/½ cup buttermilk or milk
Pinch of yeast
Cake:
100 g/½ cup unsalted butter
150 to 225 g/⅔ to 1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
5 ml/1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
75 g/½ cup stoneground yellow cornmeal
65 g/½ cup unbleached plain (all-purpose) flour
5 ml/1 teaspoon baking soda
5 ml/1 teaspoon baking powder
5 ml/1 teaspoon salt
150 g/1 cup ground toasted almonds, walnuts, pecans, or pine nuts
60 ml/¼ cup buttermilk
Icing (confectioners’) sugar, for dusting
TO MAKE THE STARTER: Combine the cornmeal, buttermilk, and yeast. Stir well to aerate the mixture and form a wet dough. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let ferment overnight at room temperature.
TO MAKE THE CAKE: Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Butter a 23 cm/9-inch round tin. In a large bowl, cream the butter. Add the sugar, eggs, and vanilla, beating until smooth. Mix the cornmeal, flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt and add to the batter with the starter, ground nuts, and buttermilk. Mix well. Pour into the tin and bake for about 30 minutes or until firm. Cool in the tin set on a wire rack, dust with icing sugar, and serve.
Many years ago, my husband was first married to Gabriella Piga, a Sardinian, Australian, Roman, in whose remarkable cooking all of these various cuisines are reflected. Gab and I have become fast friends over many years, and she sent me this recipe, which my stepson adores. When he is with us, I can make him feel even more at home by making his mamma’s ricotta torte. We cannot often find the intensely creamy ricotta here that is available in Rome and so I let my humble cottage cheese “sour” overnight in order to give the cake richness, or I make my own fresh ricotta. It is so easy, you will make it whenever fresh ricotta is called for in a recipe, or just to eat with a little cinnamon or chocolate sprinkled on top.
Makes: One 23 cm/9-inch cake
135 g/⅔ cup sugar
5 large eggs, separated
450 g/1 pound cottage cheese or fresh ricotta, see Fresh Ricotta (page 115)
15 ml/1 tablespoon plain (all-purpose) flour
30 ml/2 tablespoons sour cream, crème fraîche or mas-carpone
15 ml/1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
Pinch of salt
Pinch of cinnamon
Icing (confectioners’) sugar, for dusting
Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Butter and flour a 23 cm/9-inch springform tin.
In a food processor, mix sugar and egg yolks until smooth. Add the cheese, flour, sour cream, cream fraîche, or mascarpone, lemon zest, salt, and cinnamon, and blend well.
In a large bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff but not dry. Fold into the batter. Pour into the springform tin and bake for about 40 minutes, or until the cake springs back easily with the touch of a finger. Let cool in the tin, remove to a serving plate, dust with icing sugar and serve.
This recipe was given to me by an Italian man who was tasting my breads at a demo one day. Naturally, we got into a deep conversation about food, and I lamented the lack of good ricotta in the markets and he said, “Oh, you can make your own in about 5 minutes” which of course caught my attention. If you let the ricotta drip until very, very dry, you will have a nice fresh low-fat cheese to spread on your homemade bread.
Makes: 675 g/1½ pounds
About 2 litres/½ gallon whole milk
240 ml/1 cup yogurt
120 ml/½ cup fresh lemon juice
Salt
In a large stainless steel saucepan, bring the milk and yogurt to a simmer. Little bubbles will form around the edge of the milk and the surface of the milk will bulge slightly. Remove from heat and pour in the lemon juice, without stirring. Let sit at room temperature for about 1 hour to allow the milk to curdle.
Line a sieve or fine colander with 4 layers of cheesecloth, leaving enough hanging over the edges to gather up and secure at the top. Place the sieve or colander in the sink and carefully pour the milk into the cheesecloth. Gather up the cloth and secure with string or a rubberband. (I tie mine to my sink faucet stem and let it drip directly into the sink.)
Let the cheese drip for at least 6 hours or overnight. Transfer to a bowl and add salt to taste. Store for up to a week in the refrigerator, or after a week, wrap the cheese in cheesecloth and dry it out of the refrigerator for 1 to 2 days.
In its own mundane way, the gas company provided a turning point in my young career, introducing me to easy casseroles and simple desserts, small culinary achievements that eventually took me to fish soufflés and Sacher Tortes. When I was an eight-year-old Brownie Scout, the gas company in Houston offered to divulge to our raucous troop the secrets of tuna fish casserole (canned cream of mushroom soup and potato chip crust) and perfect chocolate cake. The precise recipes for both are long gone from my brain, but the memory of the cake’s silky crumb and easy icing lingered long enough for me to develop my own recipe in tribute to that memorable lesson. And you can bet I cook with gas, 20,000 BTUs per burner! Using a starter to help leaven a cake may seem unusual, but it produces a lovely, light-textured crumb.
Makes: One 20 cm/8-inch layer cake
Starter:
120 ml/½ cup lukewarm milk (30-35°C/85-95°F)
65 g/½ cup plain (all-purpose) flour or cake flour
Pinch of active dry yeast
Cake:
100 g/½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
30 ml/2 tablespoons vegetable shortening
400 g/2 cups sugar
2 large eggs
250 g/2 cups plain (all-purpose) flour or cake flour
90 g/¾ cup unsweetened Dutch-processed cocoa powder, such as Droste
10 ml/2 teaspoons baking powder
10 ml/2 teaspoons baking soda
Two pinches salt
180 ml/¾ cup milk
120 ml/½ cup strong brewed coffee
5 ml/1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Foolproof Chocolate Icing (page 117)
TO MAKE THE STARTER: Measure the milk into a bowl. Add the flour and yeast and stir well to aerate the mixture and form a wet dough. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let ferment overnight at room temperature. In the morning, it will be bubbly and fragrant.
TO MAKE THE CAKE: Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Butter and flour two 20 cm/8-inch round cake tins/pans.
In the bowl of an electric mixer set on medium speed, cream the butter, shortening, and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, and mix until blended. Add the starter and mix just until incorporated.
Sift together the flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add to the batter, alternating with the milk and coffee, and mix after each addition until smooth. Add the vanilla and mix well. Divide the batter between the tin. Bake for about 35 minutes or until the cake springs back when pressed gently with a finger. Turn out onto wire racks to cool. Frost when completely cool, filling and stacking the layers.
Makes: Icing for one 20 cm/8-inch cake
80 ml/⅓ cup heavy cream
225 g/8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped fine
135 g/⅔ cup sugar
30 ml/2 tablespoons bourbon
5 ml/1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
55 g/¼ cup unsalted butter, softened
In a heavy saucepan, heat the cream over medium heat. Add the chocolate, sugar, bourbon, and vanilla and cook, stirring, until very smooth and shiny. Let cool to barely warm. Using a hand-held electric mixer set on medium high or a sturdy whisk, beat in the butter until smooth. Use immediately.
ANOTHER FOOLPROOF CHOCOLATE ICING
Makes: Icing for one 20 cm/8-inch cake
225 g/8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped fine
280 g/2 cups icing sugar
100 g/½ cup unsalted butter, softened
45 ml/3 tablespoons bourbon or strong brewed espresso
In the top of a double boiler set over barely simmering water, melt the chocolate, stirring, until smooth. Remove from the heat and let cool slightly. The chocolate should be cool but still soft.
Put the icing sugar, butter, and chocolate in the bowl of a food processor and process until smooth. Add the bourbon to taste, pulse a few times, and use immediately.
NOTE: For creamier icing, use 15 to 30 ml/1 or 2 more tablespoons of butter or cream. This icing may also be made in a mixer.
In all my old children’s books about little girls on farms or visiting grandparents in some rustic mountain village, the heroine (always with thick, glossy, blond braids and rosy apple cheeks) was given slabs of gingerbread, hot from the oven and dripping with butter. Naturally, a glass of fresh goat’s milk accompanied this delicacy. I realize now (thanks to a perceptive copy reader) that I embellished Heidi’s breakfast of plain bread – I remember my mother giving me warm gingerbread to eat when I was reading this lovely children’s book.
Pushed into obscurity by nut tortes and exotic mousse cakes, gingerbread almost never graces a restaurant’s dessert tray, but it remains one of the sweetest reminders of the carefree days of childhood when I (ordinary brown braids, no apple cheeks) curled up with a book, a glass of milk (cow’s and out of a carton), and this wonderfully spicy brown bread.
Makers: One 23 x 33 cm/9 x 13-inch cake
Starter:
120 ml/½ cup lukewarm milk or buttermilk (30-35°C/85-95°F)
65 g/½ cup unbleached plain (all-purpose) flour
5 ml/1 teaspoon molasses
Pinch of active dry yeast
Bread:
170 g/1 cup packed dark brown sugar
100 g/½ cup unsalted butter, softened
120 ml/½ cup dark molasses
2 large eggs
188 g/1½ cups unbleached plain (all-purpose) flour
10 ml/2 teaspoons baking soda
10 ml/2 teaspoons powdered ginger
5 ml/1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
5 ml/1 teaspoon ground mace
¼ teaspoon grated whole nutmeg
120 ml/½ cup buttermilk
Lemon Curd (page 119)
TO MAKE THE STARTER: Measure the buttermilk into a bowl. Add the flour, molasses, and yeast and stir well to aerate the mixture and form a wet dough. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and let ferment overnight at room temperature. In the morning, it will be bubbly and fragrant.
TO MAKE THE BREAD: Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Butter and flour a 23 x 33 cm/9 x 13-inch rectangular cake tin.
In the bowl of an electric mixer set on medium speed, cream the brown sugar, butter, and molasses until light coloured. Add the egg yolks, one at a time, beating until blended. Add the starter and mix, just until incorporated.
Sift together the flour, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon, mace, and nutmeg. Add to the batter, alternating with the buttermilk, and mix well.
In a clean bowl with clean, dry beaters, beat the egg whites until stiff but not dry. Gently fold them in the batter. Pour into the tin and bake for 30 minutes or until the bread springs back when pressed gently with a finger. Let cool in the tin. Serve with Lemon Curd or whipped cream.
This rich lemon curd has better taste and texture than thin, cornstarch-thickened lemon sauces. Those Spartan sauces are fine for a special diet or for calorie watchers, but my gingerbread is such a low-fat cake that it’s nice to dress up with a richer sauce.
Makes: About 360 ml/1½ cups
150 g/¾ cup sugar
2 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
120 ml/½ cup fresh lemon juice
225 g/1 cup unsalted butter, softened
15 ml/1 tablespoon grated lemon zest
Pinch of salt
In a heavy saucepan, combine the sugar, eggs, egg yolks, and lemon juice. Cook over low heat, whisking until glossy and thick. Remove from the heat and whisk in the butter, a little at a time, until smooth. Stir in the lemon zest and salt. Cool before serving.
NOTE: This dessert, by the way, can be as elegant as a French mousse cake if served properly. Cut the gingerbread into diamond shapes. Spoon the sauce onto a dessert plate, place the cake on top of the sauce and toss a few fresh raspberries over the whole kit-and-caboodle. Tell your guests it’s the hottest new dessert since tiramisú.
The lemon curd may also be used as filling for tarts or pies.
Roman Dipping Biscuits
These are the biscotti of Rome, but better than biscotti in my estimation, as they are much more like a biscuit – not so hard and dry that they threaten to chip a tooth. I like them, too, because they are a light elegant end to a meal. They also contain fennel, a good digestive.
As others plunge into a chocolate mousse tart or “medley” of ice creams, I plunge my knife into a fresh camembert or Reblochon and pour another glass of good Rhone wine whenever possible. But now that I have discovered the French chocolate made in the valley of the Rhone (and appropriately named Valrhona chocolate), I am a changed woman.
My personal chocolate trainer, my husband, first began to dent my attitude toward sweets by titillating me with whiffs of See’s dark candies, decadent chocolates from a company that was begun in 1921 by Mr. See and his mother, and spurred along with help from Warren Buffet! My husband then continued his seduction by pushing little broken bits of Lindt Excellence towards me on occasion, nudging them closer and closer to my cheese board with a casual, “Just take a little. It can’t hurt you. Just try it.” I finally succumbed and let a little bit melt on my tongue, but still wanted my goats cheese. Then I discovered Valrhona. My normal tozzetti took on a new dimension when I added this beautifully rich and subtle queen of chocolates to the recipe.
Makes: 24 tozzetti
110 g/4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, such as Valrhona or any good, bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped fine
200 g/½ cup unsalted butter, softened
150 g/1 cup sugar
3 large eggs
5 ml/1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
375 g/3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Butter a 33 x 45 cm/13 x 18-inch baking sheet.
In the top of a double boiler set over barely simmering water, melt the chocolate, stirring until smooth. Remove from the heat and let cool to lukewarm.
In the bowl of an electric mixer set on medium-high speed, cream the sugar and butter until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating until blended. Add the cooled chocolate and vanilla and beat until smooth.
Sift together the flour, baking powder, fennel and salt and add to the batter with the nuts. Stir or beat on low speed until the dough is firm but malleable. Divide the dough in half and transfer each half to the baking sheet. Shape each into a roll about 40 cm/16 inches long. Flatten the rolls with the palm of your hand and then use two spatulas to square off the long sides to make each roll about 1.5 cm/¾ inch high.
Bake for 10 to 12 minutes or until slightly darkened. Remove from the oven and cool on wire racks for about 15 minutes.
Using a sharp, serrated knife, cut each roll into 1 cm/½-inch-thick slices. Lay the slices on the baking sheet, cut side up. Bake for about 7 minutes or until browned around the edges. Cool on wire racks. Serve immediately or store in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks. You may also wrap the tozzetti in foil and freeze them; they’ll keep for several months.
10 ml/2 teaspoons baking powder
Pinch of fennel
5 ml/1 teaspoon salt
150 g/1 cup chopped, toasted almonds, walnuts, or pecans
NOTE: For plain tozzetti, substitute 120 ml/½ cup slightly sweet white wine, such as Tokai, Malvasia or Sauvignon Blanc, in place of chocolate.
WILD TURKEY CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM
Ice-cream makers are wonderful gadgets, but anyone with a freezer, a good metal container, and a wire whisk can make the best ice cream imaginable. I stir my ice creams and sorbets after 2 hours in the freezer to distribute the ice crystals evenly and improve the texture. This particular ice cream is dense and rich like a marquise (a frozen dessert containing butter). If you forget to stir it, don’t worry.
This is an elegant ice cream that you can serve as a quick dessert to any dinner guests (including Julia Child, the Queen of England or your mother in law, whoever comes first). Serve this with Chocolate Tozzetti (page 120).
Makes: 6 servings
480 ml/2 cups heavy cream
175 g/6 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped coarse
75 g/½ cup plus 30 ml/2 tablespoons sugar
1 large egg yolk
5 ml/1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
45 ml/3 tablespoons bourbon (I use Wild Turkey)
In a heavy saucepan, heat the cream over medium heat until hot but not boiling. Add the chocolate and stir until melted. Lower the heat to very low, add the sugar and egg yolk, whisking quickly and fiercely so the eggs will not separate, until the mixture thickens. Remove from heat and whisk in the vanilla and bourbon and pour the mixture through a sieve into a metal bowl or container.
Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour until chilled. Place in the freezer, stir after 1-2 hours, depending on your freezer, and proceed to freeze for at least 3 hours more, or until firm.