Indiana Persimmon Pudding

Indiana Persimmon Pudding4

All the signs of the holidays are here: Last Friday, we walked over to the local hardware store and picked out our Christmas tree, as we have done for the last four years. And the next morning we woke up to a beautiful snow-covered city. For the record, this is Phase 1 of winter, where I say I love snow, and I talk about how magical the city is when it snows. One month from now, though, I will be downtown, standing on the sidewalk too close to the street, and get annihilated by gray slushy splash from a large truck. Or I’ll step off the sidewalk into what appears to be a shallow snow pile that is actually knee-deep, and have cold, wet feet for the rest of the day. Phase 2 of winter is called, “Snow in the city is a disgusting dirty mess.” Welcome to Chicago.

After the tree and the snow, the third sign of the holidays is all the baking. Pies, cookies, breads, you name it. When it’s cold outside, one of my favorite things in the world is waking up early, making myself some coffee, and baking while I’m still in my robe. A dream of mine is to one day make a gingerbread house from scratch. (Last year, Alex and I got the bright idea to make a gingerbread house, so we bought little decorations, like gumdrops and tiny rock-shaped candy-covered chocolates. Then we realized that making a complete gingerbread house from scratch cannot be done in the hour that we wanted to devote to it, so we just ate the candy decorations while we watched It’s a Wonderful Life and Barbershop. That’s a true story.)

Anyway, while I’m in the mood to bake I’ve been trying out some new recipes that I found throughout the year and put aside until, you know, I felt like it. One of those recipes was persimmon pudding.

I had my first persimmon well after I left Indiana for college. And, even when I had it, I figured it was some exotic fruit that I would never have seen on the produce shelves at Kroger. So didn’t I feel like a dope when I found out that the persimmon is native to the eastern United States, and grows wild Indiana (mostly southern Indiana, but still!), among other places. In fact, persimmons are kind of a big deal in southern Indiana, with a Persimmon Festival held every year in early fall in Mitchell, Indiana, for the last 71 years.

The word persimmon comes from the Powhatan language, and means “dry fruit”. Tasty, huh? Before they ripen, persimmons have a high number of tannins, like a very dry red wine, but about 1000 times worse. If you bite into an unripe persimmon, dry fruit is exactly what comes to mind. All of a sudden it feels like you have a mouth full of bitter gauze. It’s not great. I read somewhere that a ripe Hachiya should feel to the fingers like a full water balloon. And, as revolting as that analogy is, it is correct. If you let them ripen fully, you have a sweet and juicy fruit, the perfect base for this pudding.

I found references to persimmon pudding in Indiana as early as the 1890’s. In one paper from Richmond, there is a reference to using native Indiana persimmons in “one of those good old North Carolina persimmon puddings.” So perhaps persimmon pudding, famous in Indiana, is actually a dish that traveled through North Carolina, before making its way to Indiana, similar to the Hoosier sugar cream pie I made earlier this year.

And, when I say pudding, I’m not talking about Snack Packs. What I mean is the typical English pudding style, which is often steamed or baked, and results in something between a custard and a cake. These dishes used to be extremely popular in the Eastern United States. In fact, last year, I made Indian pudding, a recipe from colonial times, which is a similar texture to this pudding but is made with cornmeal and is less sweet. This dessert has just the right amount of sweetness, along with the cinnamon and nutmeg, to make you think, “Oh, yeah, that’s the taste of the holidays right there.”

Indiana Persimmon Pudding

Indiana Persimmon Pudding2

Indiana Persimmon Pudding3

Indiana Persimmon Pudding6

Indiana Persimmon Pudding
This recipe is a slight variation on this recipe, the winner at the 2014 Persimmon Festival in Mitchell, Indiana. Makes 4-6 servings.

Ingredients: 
1 cup persimmon, processed and strained (about 2-3 medium-large Hachiya persimmons)
3/4 cups buttermilk
1/4 tsp vanilla
3 tbsp butter: 1 tbsp for greasing the dish, 2 tbsp for the mixture, softened
3/4 cup sugar
1 egg
1/2 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp baking soda
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
Pinch of nutmeg

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Grease at least a one quart baking dish with 1 tablespoon of butter and set aside.

In a small bowl, add flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Stir to combine.

Take skin off of persimmons, roughly chop and blend in a food processor for about 10 seconds until smooth. Pour the processed persimmon through a mesh strainer and discard the pulp. Measure out one cup of the strained persimmon into a separate bowl.

Add the buttermilk to the persimmon and stir together.

In a separate bowl, using a mixer, cream together the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter, with the sugar, until smooth. Stir this mixture into the persimmon-buttermilk mixture with a wooden spoon.

Sift the flour mixture into the persimmon mixture using a wooden spoon and stir to thoroughly combine. No flour streaks should remain, but the mixture will not be completely smooth, and there will be some lumps.

Pour into the greased baking dish and bake for 70-80 minutes. Begin checking for doneness at the 70-minute mark by sticking a knife in the center and closer to the edges. Once the knife comes out clean in each area, it’s done.

Serve warm with ice cream or whipped cream and enjoy!

Indiana Persimmon Pudding7

Yes, this recipe takes a while to bake. Low and slow, beebs. But it takes almost no time to throw together. And when it’s done, you have a rich, warmly spiced pudding, with a caramelized exterior. It’s admittedly not much to look at, but it is delicious and is the definition of comfort food. And, as most things are, it’s best served warm, with ice cream or whipped cream on the side. Let me know what you think if you decide to whip up a batch!

Advertisements

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns7

I don’t want to alarm anyone, but TOMORROW IS THANKSGIVING! Is it just an aging thing, where every year when another holiday season rolls around, you ask, “Where is time going?!” Must be.

Anyway, I absolutely love the holiday season. Our parents are dispersed, so we sort of occasionally pop in here and there, sometimes for the holidays, sometimes not, depending on our travel budgets and work commitments. We’d like to see them all more, but that’s how it is. (My God, we are getting older.) Anyway, that means that we generally do holidays here at home, or with friends in the city. This year, we’ll be here at home, which is great for extreme homebodies, such as ourselves. When we were putting our meal list together, we realized that all we really wanted was side dishes and pie. And what’s the other benefit to cooking a Thanksgiving meal just for ourselves? We get to serve only side dishes and pie.

This is also just a busier work time for both of us. I have a few projects to finish before Christmas and Alex is diligently working on the final stages of his dissertation, which has us both ripping our hair out. Anyway, while he’s working on that, I’ll be in the kitchen practicing my own form of Thanksgiving meditation, which is cooking while listening to Christmas records, then watching the Thanksgiving episodes of Bob’s Burgers. I’m hoping for a little snow, maybe. I missed Chicago’s first snow of the season because I was in Indiana–but I celebrated with the traditional first-snow meal of the Dakotas, ICYMI.

But, onto the reason we’re all here: The buns! Back when my family actually used to get together for holiday family dinners, everyone would bring a dish, or several, and we would feast and laugh. There was probably football on. One year, my mom decided to do a completely innocent thing and made some pecan sticky buns for dessert. Then they were so good that the world collapsed, and everyone lost their mind and demanded that she make them again for every single family dinner after that. True story.

Our family doesn’t really do holiday dinners anymore, at least not the giant ones that we used to, so it’s been actual years since I’ve had my mom’s pecan rolls. But when I was visiting her last week, we got to talking about them.

I had some wild ideas about doing the recipe a little differently. I’m always trying to change things up a bit on here. I’ve found that updating classics is a great way to learn about and honor the past, but also evolve with times. However, I would feel awful doing a twist on such a fantastic original, if my mom wasn’t all for it. I mean, I know we’re just talking pecan buns here, but they are my mom’s pecan buns. Instead, she gave me her blessing. “You should do it,” she said when I told her my idea. “It sounds delicious.” (Moms have such a wonderful, unique way of making you feel like every idea you have, big or small, is great and completely in the realm of possibility. I’m pretty sure if I said, “Hey mom, I think I’m also going to run for president,” she’d say something like, “You’d be so good at that! We should go get an outfit for your first press conference.”) Luckily for me, this updated version turned turned out just the way I imagined they would.

You start with a pretty basic sweet dough recipe, then you punch it up with some bright orange and spicy ginger. It will fill your house with all the right smells.

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns2

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns4

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns5

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns6

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns
Makes 8-12 buns.

Ingredients:
Sweet rolls:
1 1/8 tsp active dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water
1/4 lukewarm milk
1 egg
2 tbsp butter, extremely soft
6 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/4 – 2 cups all-purpose flour

Orange caramel pecan sauce:
5 tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup pecan halves
1 tsp vanilla extract
4 tsp orange juice

Filling:
2 tbsp unsalted butter, melted
1/4 cup sugar
1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1 tbsp orange zest
1 1/2 tsp grated fresh ginger

Instructions:

Whisk together the warm water and yeast in a large bowl. Allow to sit for about five minutes.

Oil a large bowl.

Add the milk, egg, butter, sugar, salt, and 1 cup of the flour. Mix well. Continue adding enough flour to make the mixture easy to handle, up to 2 cups total.

Place the mixture onto a well-floured surface and knead until the dough is smooth and no longer sticks, adding flour as needed, about five minutes.

Once the dough is elastic, place in the oiled bowl, and turn over to cover the entire surface of the dough with oil. Cover the bowl with a dishtowel and allow to rise in a warm place for about 1 1/2 hours.

While the dough is rising, create the orange caramel pecan sauce. In a saucepan, add the butter and heat until just melted (or continue to heat until browned). Remove from heat and mix in the brown sugar until dissolved. Add the pecans, vanilla extract, and orange juice. Pour the sauce into the bottom of an 8- or 9-inch pie or cake pan that is at least two inches tall.

For the filling, melt the two tablespoons of butter in a small bowl; set aside. In another small bowl, thoroughly combine the sugar, cinnamon, orange zest, and the grated ginger.

After it’s risen, punch the dough down and pour out onto a lightly floured surface. Roll the dough out into a 13″ x 9″ rectangle.

Brush the two tablespoons of melted butter over the entire surface of the dough. Then coat the top of the dough with the orange-ginger mixture.

Roll the long side of the dough up tightly into a roll. Use a knife or unflavored floss to cut the uneven ends off. Then continue cutting 8-12 rolls, about 1 1/2 inches thick, out of the dough.

Place the rolls swirl side down into the orange caramel pecan sauce in the pan.

Cover and allow to rise for about 45 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Bake for about 20-25 minutes, until golden brown.

Remove from oven. Immediately place a dish over the top of the pan and quickly invert, allowing the orange caramel pecan sauce to drizzle over the top.

Orange Ginger Pecan Sticky Buns8

Gosh, they’re good. Something about the orange and ginger cuts right through all the sweetness and balances everything out. Don’t like pecans? Don’t add them. (Although they do toast up a bit at the bottom of the pan, essentially becoming sweet, crispy bites of heaven.) These are a great dessert for your Thanksgiving dinner and, honestly, a really solid day-after Thanksgiving breakfast option. Even reheated these babies are top-notch.

This Thanksgiving day, and every day, I’m thankful for my family (especially you, mom!), my friends, and the fact that you all show up and I get to share these recipes with you all. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

The Quakers and the Hoosier Sugar Cream Pie

HSCP12

Happy, happy #piday, everyone!  For the first time since December, it’s snowing here in Chicago. Like, really snowing. In March. Less than a week before Spring. To remind us all where we live and that we didn’t beat the system this winter. It’s bogus. But, what an excellent day to make (and eat) pie! For this, the most special of days, I made the official pie of my home state, Indiana: The Hoosier Sugar Cream Pie.

I have mentioned that I’m from Indiana before. I haven’t lived there for over a decade now but it is, for all technical purposes, home. My family, both sides, have lived in Indiana for well over a century. My dad’s side, mostly Scottish and German, came from Pennsylvania, down through Ohio, finally settling in Indiana in the mid-1800’s. My mom’s parents were both originally from Central Indiana. My maternal grandfather’s family were Clevengers and were part of a very large group of Quakers in the area.

Originally hailing from Guilford and Randolph Counties in North Carolina, Quakers, also known as the Society of Friends, were fierce abolitionists in a southern state where slavery was a way of life for many landowners. Unable to change the laws in North Carolina, throngs of Quakers began migrating to the free states of Ohio and Indiana in the north. My particular family line settled in Randolph County, which was named after the county they left in North Carolina. And it is generally agreed that with them came a version of the sugar cream pie recipe.

The sugar cream pie falls into the category of “desperation pie.” Desperation pies could be made by cash-strapped families with low-cost ingredients that they often already had on hand. They could also be made during the winter months when fruits were less available. The sugar cream pie was traditionally favored for its simplicity (another hallmark of the Quakers), which allowed for farm wives to toss everything into the crust, stir it with a finger, and pop it into the oven to bake as they went back out to help with the farm chores. Several variations of this recipe exist, including those from the Amish and the Shakers communities. It’s likely that all three of these groups have some responsibility for the continued popularity of this old pie in Indiana. One of its more well-known purveyors, Wick’s Pies, in Randolph County, has been in business for over 60 years and makes their sugar cream pie with a recipe dating back to the 19th century. It’s not uncommon for families, especially those near Randolph County, Indiana, to have their own family version. And in 2009, the Hoosier Sugar Cream Pie became the “official pie of Indiana.”

HSCP

HSCP2

HSCP5

HSCP7

Hoosier Sugar Cream Pie Recipe

Crust Ingredients:
For the crust, I halved this recipe from Epicurious.

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tbsp granulated sugar
3/4 tsp salt
1 stick of unsalted butter, plus 1 tbsp, chilled
1/4 cup (or more) ice water
3/4 tsp apple cider vinegar

Cream Pie Filling Ingredients:
Slight variation of the Hoosier Mama Pie Company’s Hoosier Sugar Cream Pie recipe.

3 tbsp all-purpose flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
2 cups heavy cream
1 tsp vanilla extract
Ground nutmeg, for sprinkling
Confectioners’ sugar, for dusting

Hoosier Sugar Cream Pie Instructions:

Cut butter into 1/2-inch cubes and spread out on a plate. Cover with a dishtowel and allow to set in the freezer for about 10 minutes.

In the bowl of a food processor, add the flour, sugar, and salt. Set in the freezer as you get the remaining ingredients ready.

In a measuring cup, fill to just over a 1/4 cup, then add 3 ice cubes.

Remove the food processor bowl from the freezer and pulse a few times to combine the flour, sugar, and salt.

Add the butter all at once and quickly pulse until the mixture produces smaller than pea-sized pieces. Add the water and vinegar and pulse again about 5 times to combine. Grab a bit of the dough and squeeze together. If it holds its form, it’s done. If it is still dry, add 1 tbsp of ice water at a time, pulsing about 3 times in between, until the dough begins to form large clumps.

Pour the dough out onto a work surface, gathering into a ball any little pieces of dough that escape.

Form the dough into a ball and flatten into disk. Wrap the disk in plastic; refrigerate at least 1 hour, but preferably overnight. Before rolling out the dough for your pie, allow it to soften for about 5-10 minutes at room temperature.

Roll out the dough into a circle that’s large enough to allow the edges to fall over the edge of the pan. Crimp the edges of the dough, or decorate with a fork. Place the pie crust in the freezer for 30 minutes.

Blind bake your pie crust by first heating your oven to 400 degrees. Place the frozen shell on a baking sheet. Line the inside of the inside of the pie crust with parchment paper and fill to the top with uncooked beans or pie weights. Be sure they fill to the edges, to help the pie crust keep its shape. Bake for 10 minutes, rotate 180 degrees, and bake for 10 more minutes. Remove the pie shell from the oven, and remove the parchment paper and weights from the crust.

Prick the bottom of the crust all over with a fork. Bake for 2-3 more minutes until the crust’s interior is golden. Allow to cool to room temperature before filling.

Combine the granulated sugar, brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, and salt in a large bowl. Whisk to break up any clumps and to combine ingredients. Gently stir in the heavy cream and vanilla with a wooden spoon or spatula. Do not whip the cream or the pie will not set.

Pour the filling into the baked, cooled pie shell, sprinkle with nutmeg, and bake for 20 minutes. Rotate the pie 180° and bake for about 20 more minutes, or until the edges look as though they are beginning to set and large bubbles cover the surface. (The pie will still be jiggly in the center when you remove it from the oven.)

Allow the pie to cool to room temperature, then put it in the refrigerator to chill for at least 4 hours and up to overnight, before serving. When ready, dust with confectioners’ sugar before slicing and serving.

HSCP8

And that’s it, you’ll have a rich pie to satisfy the masses. Traditionally, only white sugar would have been used, so if that is all you have, you can certainly use it in place of brown sugar. Your pie will be a bit sweeter than it would if you use a mix. Brown sugar adds caramel color and flavor to the custard filling, which is really nice. Cinnamon and vanilla may have also been a little over-budget for Indiana farm wives a century ago, but both add some nice depth. And I really think the sprinkle of nutmeg on top is important. To me, that’s what makes it a real Hoosier Cream Pie. The sweetness of this pie makes it a perfect pair to a strong cup of coffee. And if you can resist eating it all, do yourself a favor and freeze a piece to eat (while frozen) the next day. You’ll thank me for that later. Sweet eating!

HSCP11

Save