National Boston Cream Pie Day

BCP7

I don’t know why October 23rd is National Boston Cream Pie Day, but it is! Boston Cream Pie has been on my to-make list for so long. I think I’ve actually tried to do a post on it for several years running, and something always came up. But 2019 is my year in so many ways, that it’s also going to be the year I tackle the Boston Cream Pie post. Strap in.

If you’re unfamiliar, I should first break the news that Boston Cream Pie is not a pie at all. Instead, it’s a two-layer sponge cake, filled with cream, and topped with chocolate ganache. It’s likely, though, that the “pie” part of its name came from the cake being baked in a pie tin. Pies and cakes were often cooked in the same pans in earlier days, and the names would have been used interchangeably.

The Boston Cream Pie is associated most closely with the Parker House Hotel (now the Omni Parker House Hotel) in Boston. More specifically, they can be traced back to one man, Augustine Francois Anezin, a Frenchman who was the head cook at the Hotel. Many records incorrectly listed Anezin’s name as Sanzian, which immediately made me think he was Armenian, instead of French, but it turns out they just got his name wrong. He was definitely French, born around 1824 in Marseilles, France. He didn’t begin his tenure as chef at the Parker House until he was about 40, so his famous pie-cake would’ve been created sometime after 1865, but before he retired in 1881.

However, even though Anezin was responsible for bringing the pie to the Parker House Hotel, he did not invent cream pies (cake). They had already been around for years, but might have been enjoying a bump in popularity around this time. In fact, there is a recipe that dates back to 1864 called “Boston Cream Cakes” in Godey’s Magazine and Lady’s Book, a women’s monthly book published in Philadelphia. The Boston Cream Cakes recipe differs slightly from the Boston Cream Pie recipe that we know today, but it does show how common pudding pies and cakes were in that day. And it is interesting that, even in those early days, a pudding cake was attributed to Boston.

I’ve found no original recipe for Anezin’s Boston cream pie, but it was likely composed of sponge cake leavened with eggs, as baking powders were not yet commonly used in American baking until after the 1860s. And his recipe may or may not have had chocolate on top at the time. What we do know is that it was years before it would become known as Boston Cream Pie. Recipes referencing “Boston Cream Pie” begin popping up in newspapers outside of Boston as early as 1876. These recipes call for a sponge cake to be baked, split and filled with pudding, but with no mention of chocolate on top. Perhaps some credit for the chocolate covered version of the Boston Cream Pie should go to a woman named Maria Parloa, a well-known “domestic scientist” of her time. In 1877, she opened Miss Parloa’s School of Cooking in Boston. Ten years later, Parloa published her book Miss Parloa’s Kitchen Companion. In the book, Parloa has a recipe for “chocolate cream pie,” which appears very similar to what we know today as the Boston cream pie, calling for two rounds of cake, filled with pastry cream, and now with the addition of a chocolate icing topping. While Ms. Parloa’s name isn’t as well-known today, she was considered something of a “celebrity chef” of her time. (So, perhaps the “Boston” in Boston Cream Pie comes from Ms. Parloa’s version of the pudding pie, and her link to the city of Boston, rather than Anezin’s. It’s hard to know without documentation of the original recipe.) Whatever the origin, the pie-cake, topped with chocolate ganache, over time became eponymous with, not the hotel that it is attributed to, but the city of Boston itself. In 1996, it was even declared that Boston Cream Pie was the state dessert of Massachusetts, beating out other local treats, such as the Toll House cookie and Indian pudding.

BCP

BCP2

BCP3

BCP4

BCP6

Boston Cream Pie
Makes one 8-inch cream pie.

Ingredients:
For cake:
3 eggs
3/4 cups granulated sugar
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cups flour

For pastry cream:
3 egg yolks
1 egg
6 tbsp sugar
3 tbsp cornstarch
1/4 tsp salt
2 cups milk
2 tsp vanilla extract
3 tbsp unsalted butter

For ganache:
4 oz semi-sweet chocolate bar, chopped into small pieces
1/2 cup heavy cream

Instructions: 

For pastry cream: Stir together the yolks, egg, sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a heat-safe bowl until completely combined. Set aside.

Heat the milk in a heavy-bottomed saucepan, until small bubbles just begin to form around the edge of the saucepan. Turn off the heat.

Pour about half of the milk, very slowly, in a thin stream into the egg mixture, whisking rapidly and constantly to temper the eggs. Once the eggs are tempered, pour the egg mixture back into the remaining milk in the saucepan.

Turn the heat back on medium. Whisking constantly, allow the mixture to come to a boil. Once you see bubbles forming, keep mixing for about 1-2 minutes. You should see the mixture becoming thick.

Remove from heat, pour into a clean oven-safe bowl, and put a piece of plastic wrap directly on top of the hot pastry cream. Allow the pastry cream to come to room temperature, then refrigerate for at least two hours before using in your cream pie.

For cake: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Thoroughly grease an 8 x 2-inch round cake pan, and line bottom of the pan with parchment paper.

Beat together the eggs, sugar, salt, and vanilla extract until very pale yellow in color, about 12-15 minutes, with a hand mixer. The mixture should be quite thick.

Sift the flour over the top of the batter in three or four batches, completely mixing the flour in with a wooden spoon between each addition.

Pour the mixture into the greased cake pan and place on the center rack in the oven for 20 minutes.

The top of the cake should be golden on top by this time. Before opening the oven door, turn off the heat and crack the oven door, but do not yet remove the cake. Allow the cake to sit in the oven for 5 minutes.

Remove the cake from the oven and allow to cool upside down on a cooling rack.

Once the cake has cooled completely, carefully remove the cake from the pan. You may need to use a butter knife to loosen the sides of the cake from the pan, even if you greased the pan well.

Slice the cake in half, lengthwise.

Top the bottom half of the cake with the pastry cream, and place the top of the cake on the pastry cream. Place in the fridge while you make the ganache.

For ganache: Place the chopped chocolate in a heat-safe bowl.

Warm the heavy cream in a small saucepan, until you just begin to see bubbles forming around the edge of the pan.

Pour the milk directly over the chopped chocolate. Allow to sit for about 5 minutes.

Stir together the chocolate and the cream until it is fully combined and smooth.

Spoon the ganache over the top of the cake and smooth to the edges, allowing some to drip over the sides.

Enjoy!

BCP8

I got lost in the research for this post, because I was fascinated to learn about Maria Parloa, whom I had never heard of before. Also, the recipes that I saw reprinted in newspapers under the name chocolate cream pie seem to be taken verbatim from her book, so it is surprising that she has not traditionally been a part of the Boston cream pie story. The research is a bit thin all around, but I always love to chase these histories, and I also loved making this pie/cake.

Alex’s Birthday + Raspberry Alexandertorte

3Alexandertorte

Hello! I’ve missed you. I had so many posts I wanted to get up this month, but it just got away from me. However, we’ve had some fun and exciting things happening in the Limanowski household (fun for us, probably not fun for you). We visited Detroit for the first time together at the beginning of the month, and had a really awesome time. Detroit’s great! Go visit Detroit! Then we both got sick (not fun or exciting). But in the meantime, we were tooling around with some important planning for our next move in October (fun and exciting, but not yet finalized). Finally, Alex successfully defended his dissertation last week. That’s right! He’s Dr. Limanowski now. And then he celebrated his birthday this weekend. Whew.

In celebration of both of these events, I thought I’d try to sneak in one last July post, before I have to start thinking about what the heck I can make for August! As I have mentioned in the past, Alex is not really a cake enthusiast. He never wants a cake for his birthday. He is, though, an almost-every-other-kind-of-sweet enthusiast. I had been tooling around with a post a while back about the Danish favorite hindsbaersnitter, which translates to “raspberry slice.” It is a popular shortbread pastry in Denmark. In fact, it was said to be Hans Christian Andersen’s favorite dessert. When I told Alex about it, he expressed a lot of interest, especially after I compared it to a fancy Pop-Tart. Then, while doing some research, I realized that the Danish hindsbaersnitter may have actually been a copycat of an earlier pastry from Latvia, known as–ready for this–Alexandertorte. An even earlier form has existed in Finland, since at least 1818, called the Aleksanterin leivokset (Alexander cakes). Both Alexander-based desserts were named to commemorate the visit of a Russian Czar: In Finland, Alexander I; in Riga (Latvia’s capital), Alexander III.

So, name-wise this was obviously a perfect choice. It’s not celebrating a Russian Czar, but it is celebrating a newly-minted doctor, and birthday boy. Even better.

1Alexandertorte

2Alexandertorte

4Alexandertorte

5Alexandertorte

Raspberry Alexandertorte
5-10 servings.

Ingredients:
2 1/4 – 2 1/2 cups flour, plus more for rolling dough
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 cup confectioner’s sugar
1 tsp lemon zest
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg

1 cup confectioner’s sugar
2 tbsp heavy cream (For pink frosting (optional): use 1 tbsp raspberry juice, and 1 tbsp heavy cream. For juice, combine 1/4 cup raspberries in a small bowl, heat for 30 seconds in microwave and strain through a fine mesh sieve.)

3/4 cup good-quality raspberry jam

Instructions:

In a medium bowl, sift together 2 1/4 cups flour, salt, and baking soda.

Add butter and sugar to a large bowl and beat until very smooth and almost completely white in color, about five minutes.

Add the lemon zest, vanilla, and egg, and beat until just incorporated.

Add the flour mixture to the sugar mixture in three batches, beating each batch until it’s just incorporated. If the mixture is very sticky, you can add the remaining 1/4 cup of flour.

After you’ve added all the flour, begin pulling the mixture together. Divide in half. It may look a bit dry at first, but should come together. There may be some crumbs and that is OK. Form both portions into a disk.

Wrap the two disks with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 1/2 hours, or as long as overnight.

Once refrigerated, preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Line two large cookie sheets with parchment paper.

Keeping one disk refrigerated, roll out one disk of dough on a lightly floured surface to about 1/4-inch thick. Cut into a 6 x 10″ rectangle. Place on parchment-lined cookie sheet and bake for about 12 minutes. You don’t even need to have golden edges. The cookie should be a little soft to insure that it’s less crumbly when you cut it.

After you remove it from the oven, allow it to cool on the cookie sheet for 10 minutes, then remove to finish cooling on a cooling rack. Roll out the second disk and repeat the process.

Once the cookies have cooled completely, spread one half of the completely cooled shortbread with raspberry jam.

In a small bowl, combine the confectioner’s sugar and heavy cream (or cream and raspberry juice). Stir until smooth. If mixture is runny, add a little more confectioner’s sugar. If the mixture is too thick, add a little more cream. Sprinkle top with freeze-dried raspberry crumbles, pearl sugar, or sprinkles, optional.

Pour the frosting over the top of the second shortbread cookie and smooth to the edges.

Place the frosted shortbread on top of the jam-covered shortbread. Allow to set for at least 20 minutes before cutting.

Slice into five large pieces, or 10 smaller squares. Enjoy!

6Alexandertorte

This dessert is a little on the sweeter side, that’s for sure. Definitely not for those missing their sweet tooth. However, we had it alongside some hot, black coffee, and it was just perfect.

Happy birthday and congrats to my favorite guy of all time!

Tiramisu

Tiramisu6 - Edited

Hey, guys! It’s been a while! I stepped away from the blog for the month of May (you didn’t notice), but now I’m back! And, even though it’s not really warm enough here to be using the old “It’s been too hot here to turn on the oven, so here’s an awesome no-bake recipe” food blog trick, I’m doing it anyway! Let’s talk tiramisu, shall we?

Tiramisu, though an iconic Italian dessert here in the states, has only existed since the middle of the 20th century. (This gives you an idea of what Italians were doing with mid-century recipes, while we were over here putting hot dogs in Jell-O.) Roughly translated to “pick me up,” or “cheer me up,” it’s composed of savoiardi, or lady fingers, dipped in espresso, layered lasagna-style with a fluffy mixture composed mostly of eggs and mascarpone cheese, and finally dusted with cocoa. It’s sweet, and bitter, and creamy. Basically a dream.

Even though it’s hard to imagine a time before tiramisu, it wasn’t even introduced to the United States until the 1980s. The earliest record of a tiramisu recipe I could find in a newspaper was from 1981. Until quite recently, it was thought that tiramisu was created in the 1960s or 70s in the Veneto region of Italy in a restaurant called Le Beccherie, by the pastry chef Roberto Linguanotto. However, even this story is up for debate. Some stories say the recipe was instead created by Alba Campeol, who owned Le Beccherie along with her husband Ado. It’s said that she came up with the idea after her mother-in-law brought her a zabaglione, or an egg yolk custard made with wine, spiked with espresso to help give her energy after the birth of her children.

Perhaps the most convincing argument comes from famous chef Lidia Bastianich. Bastianich, while researching her book Lidia’s Italy: 140 Simple and Delicious Recipes from the Ten Places in Italy Lidia Loves Most, may have discovered the origin one step before the Campeols. Restaurant owner Celeste Tonon told Bastianich that chef and restaurateur Speranza Garatti was the true creator of tiramisu. He said that Garatti served a variation of the dish in a goblet and called it coppa imperiale. Tonon also claims that it was not Alba Campeol, but Ado, who recreated the dish and renamed it tiramisu.

Aside from this wide-ranging fight in Veneto, there have also recently been claims made from the nearby region of Friuli-Venezia Giulia. While arguments were going on a few years ago in Veneto about who created tiramisu, Friuli-Venezia Giulia drew a line in sand by declaring that the dessert was one of their traditional dishes. The rivalry was ignited when authors Clara and Gigi Padovani claimed they discovered recipes for the dish in Friuli that date back to the 1950s. 

It’s also worth pointing out that while this dish as a whole is relatively new, savoiardi (ladyfingers), an important component of this very simple dessert, have been around much longer. Savoiardi date back to the late 1400s in the newly-created Duchy of Savoy, a small area that lay on the French-Italian border. A dry, sweet, sponge biscuit, cut in the shape of a finger, they were created to honor a visit to the Duchy by the King of France!

Tiramisu - Edited

Tiramisu2 - Edited

Tiramisu3 - Edited

Tiramisu4 - Edited

Tiramisu5 - Edited

Tiramisu
A very slight adaptation of this recipe. Makes 6-9 servings.

Ingredients: 
28-30 Italian savoiardi (ladyfingers)
2 cups very strong coffee/espresso
3 tbsp creme de cacao or dark rum
4 large egg yolks
3/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup sugar, divided
1/2 tsp vanilla
pinch of salt
8 oz mascarpone
1/3 cup cocoa powder, divided

Instructions: 

In a shallow bowl, mix together the espresso and creme de cacao or rum. Set aside.

In a small bowl, beat together the egg yolks with 1/4 cup sugar until the mixture becomes light yellow in color and smooth. Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine the heavy cream, 1/4 cup of sugar, vanilla and a pinch of salt. Beat together until the cream is light and about triple in size. Add in the mascarpone all at once and continue to beat until fully combined. Fold in the egg yolk mixture until fully combined.

Working quickly, briefly dunk the savoiardi, one at a time, into the espresso mixture, lining the bottom of an 8×8-inch pan. Once you have placed one layer of lady fingers, spread half of the egg mixture over the top, then dust with half of the cocoa. Place another layer of lady fingers, and repeat. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least two hours, or overnight. Serve chilled.

Tiramisu8 - Edited

This is not the first dish I’ve written about here that has a lively and contentious dispute about its origins. It certainly makes a big difference when a heavyweight like Lidia gets involved, but in truth, we aren’t closer to knowing who exactly soaked these dried cakes in espresso before covering them in cream. But I do know, we owe whoever it was a debt!

Purim + Ginger Pear Hamantaschen

8Hamantaschen

Yay! It’s the first day of spring. Finally! We’ve had several days of sun and 40-plus degree weather. I think the warm weather is finally on its way and I’m ready for it.

In addition to Spring springing, Purim also begins this evening. Purim is a Jewish holiday, celebrated from sunset to nightfall of the next day. The celebration of Purim dates back to the reign of the Persian King Ahasuerus (likely the king now known as Xerxes I, or Artaxerxes I). The Jewish holiday celebrates the delivery of the Jewish people from genocide by the hand of the King’s royal vizier, Haman, as well as the bravery of Queen Esther.

According to the book of Esther in the Jewish Tanakh (the Hebrew Bible) and the Christian Old Testament, King Ahasuerus chose a beautiful young woman named Esther as his second wife, after his first wife, Vashti, disobeyed him at a festival. Esther, therefore, became Queen of Persia. However, Ahasuerus did not know that the woman he had chosen as his bride was a Jewish orphan, living with her cousin and guardian, Mordecai, in exile.

After the marriage of Esther and Ahasuerus, Mordecai discovered a plot by two of the King’s eunuchs, who were plotting the King’s death. Mordecai, through Esther, exposed their plan, and was rewarded by the King.

But tensions rose in the court when Mordecai refused to bow to the King’s vizier, Haman. The King had decreed that everyone should bow before the vizier and, when Mordecai refused, Haman the vizier was enraged. Subsequently, the vizier discovered that Mordecai and Esther were Jewish, and he began plotting the extermination of all the exiled Jews in the kingdom. Haman even went so far as to have gallows erected specifically for executing Mordecai. But Mordecai discovered Haman’s plot in time, and used Esther’s favor with her husband to sway the King. Esther was hesitant to approach the King without him summoning her, as the act was punishable by death. Realizing that she may die if she went to the King, but that she might save the rest of her people, she went to Ahasuerus, unsummoned. The King did not kill her, and instead granted her request of attending a dinner party, along with Haman. At the dinner party, Esther invited them to a second party, set to take place the following day. It was at this second dinner that Esther, realizing that she had the favor of the King, exposed Haman’s plot to destroy the Jewish people, as well as her own identity as a Jewish woman. The King, realizing that his wife would be killed as part of Haman’s plan, and also remembering Esther and Mordecai’s involvement in exposing the plot of his assassination earlier, instead decided to execute Haman on the same gallows that he had erected for Mordecai.

Purim takes place on the 14th day of the Hebrew month of Adar, said to be celebrated after the 13th day, which Haman chose as the Jews’ execution day. Purim takes its name from the purims, or lots, that Haman drew to determine which day to massacre the Jews.

Jews celebrate their victory over Haman by holding festivals and large meals, wearing costumes, and reciting the Megilah, or the Book of Esther, and sharing food.

For today’s recipe, I made a traditional pastry associated with the holiday of Purim: hamantaschen, which is translated literally to “Haman’s ears.” However, tasche also means pocket or pouch in German, and it is commonly thought that this refers to the money that Haman offered the King to exterminate the Jewish people. In Hebrew, tash means “weaken,” which may reference the celebration of the weakening of Haman. Traditionally filled with poppy seeds, these cookies have been eaten in association with Purim since at least the 1500s.

2Hamantaschen

3Hamantaschen

4Hamantaschen

5Hamantaschen

Ginger Pear Hamantaschen
Makes 20-24 hamantaschen.

Ingredients:

For filling:
3 3/4 cups pear, peeled, seeded, and chopped finely
1 1/4 cup, plus 1 tbsp white sugar
1 1/2 tsp lemon zest
4 tbsp lemon juice
1 1/2 tsps freshly zested ginger root

For cookie:
3/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 cup confectioner’s sugar
1 tsp lemon zest
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg
2 1/4 – 2 1/2 cups flour, plus more for rolling dough
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1 egg white, beaten and mixed with a splash of water to make an egg wash

Instructions:

For filling: In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, combine the pear, sugar lemon zest, lemon juice, and ginger root.

Place over low-medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the mixture thickens, about 30-45 minutes. You can mash the fruit with the back of a spoon as it begins to soften.

Allow to cool to room temperature, then pour into a sanitized jar and refrigerate.

For cookie: In a medium bowl, sift together 2 1/4 cups flour, salt, and baking soda.

Add butter and sugar to a large bowl and beat until very smooth and almost completely white in color, about five minutes.

Add the lemon zest, vanilla, and egg, and beat until just incorporated.

Add the flour mixture to the sugar mixture in three batches, beating each batch until it’s just incorporated. If the mixture is very sticky, you can add the remaining 1/4 cup of flour.

After you’ve added all the flour, begin pulling the mixture together into a ball. It may look a bit dry at first, but should come together. There may be some crumbs and that is OK.

Wrap the ball with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 1/2 hours, or as long as overnight.

Once refrigerated, preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface to about 1/8-inch thick.

Line two large cookie sheets with parchment paper.

Using a 2- or 3-inch round cookie cutter, punch out as many circles as you can. Feel free to re-roll the scraps to punch out more circles.

Beat together egg white and water.

Using a pastry brush, cover the top of each circle with egg wash. Add about 1 1/2 – 2 tsp of ginger pear filling to each cookie. Fold three sides of the circle up to form a triangle. Place on cookie sheet at least 1-inch apart. Bake for about 10 to 15 minutes, or until lightly golden brown at the edges.

Remove from oven to a cooling rack and cool.

7Hamantaschen.jpg

Food is an excellent way to celebrate ritual and tradition over many generations, and this humble cookie is one such recipe. I hope you love it. Chag Purim Sameach!

Madeleines with Blood Orange Glaze and Pistachios

Madeleines6

Happy Mardi Gras! In honor of the holiday, we’re celebrating with some French history and buttery cookie-cakes. I give you, the madeleine.

The madeleine is most closely associated with the small town of Commercy, in the Lorraine region of eastern France. While no one knows for sure the true provenance of the madeleine, both nuns and royals are said to have had a hand in popularizing the cookie-sized cake.

Often the madeleine is associated with two different female bakers of the same name. Some histories suggest that the madeleine was simply named after a baker employed in the castle of Jean François Paul de Gondi, Cardinal de Retz in Lorraine. However, this is probably the least likely story of all, as absolutely no evidence of such a baker named madeleine has been found, nor any evidence that a baker in the household had any hand in the creation of the dessert at all. It’s also unclear if the house the woman worked in belonged to the Cardinal at all.

A slightly more convincing story suggests that an exiled Polish King and his French king son-in-law may have played a part. In 1725, King Louis XV of France married Maria Leszczynska, the daughter of the former Polish King, Stanislaw I Leszczynski. After losing his throne, Stanislaw was given the Duchy of Lorraine. He established himself in the Chateau de Luneville, and it’s suggested that it was here that the first madeleine was created by a woman named Madeleine Paulmier. Legend has it that Madeleine was a baker in the Duke’s castle and that in 1755, after she had created the madeleine, the Duke’s son-in-law, King Louis XV of France, tasted the confection, fell in love with it, and introduced the new dessert to the Court of Versailles. Others say the Duke gave it to his daughter, Maria, the Queen of France, and that it was she who introduced it to the court. Some sources state that the cookies were named after the baker herself, while others say that the King named them for his wife, Maria, though why they would be called madeleines instead of marias is hard to say. (I wish that I could dig through some local records in Lorraine to see if there was any credibility to this claim. With both a first and last name, if this woman existed, certainly she should show up somewhere.)

The second suggestion is that madeleines were not created in Lorraine at all, but instead in the kitchen of Jean Avice, the cook to Prince Talleyrand in Paris. Avice is credited with the distinctive shell-shape of the cookie, achieved by baking the batter in aspic molds. This seems like a good argument in favor of Avice, but his recipe is often dated to the 19th century, and madeleines almost certainly existed before then. Recipes dating back to the mid-1700s have been found, and were already being made in other parts of France.

I think perhaps the most compelling argument for the cookie is not related to a baker named Madeleine at all, but rather to the faith of French nuns. The name Madeleine is the French form of “Magdalene,” as in Mary Magdalene, the follower of Jesus Christ. It is known that convents around France baked lots of things, which would support the theory that nuns were behind at least the name of the dessert, if not also the recipe. It also seems that Commercy, in particular, had a convent named after Mary Magdalene. After the convents of France were shut down in 1790, the nuns may have sold the madeleine recipe to bakers for a profit. This might also explain how it spread across France around that time. While it might be more romantic to imagine one baker named Madeleine creating the treat in a humble kitchen, the fact is pastries were already big business in the 1700s, particularly in France. Additionally, there is a popular cupcake-like dessert in Spain that closely resembles the madeleine, called a magdalena. It’s hard to say which dessert came first, but the Catholic link between the two countries and the similarity in names seems undeniable.

While the dessert has been popular in France for centuries, a mention in the 1920s by Marcel Proust, in his work In Search of Lost Time, may have been responsible for taking the cake’s popularity beyond the French border. In the work, he describes how the madeleine crumbs transport him back in time to his childhood (though, as Proust grew up more than 160 miles away from Commercy, one must assume that the cookie had already been popularized throughout France.)

Perhaps we will never know the true creator for sure, but you can add your own name to the history of the dessert, and make it yourself! For the recipe, you will need a bit of lead time: Once made, the batter should be refrigerated at least three hours. After that, things come together quickly, and what you’re left with is fluffy, buttery, and perfect straight from the oven, or cooled and glazed. Either way, they’re quite comfortable alongside a hot cup of coffee.

Madeleines3

DSC_0271 - Edited

Madeleines with Blood Orange Glaze and Pistachios
Makes 12 full-size madeleines, or 24 mini madeleines.

Ingredients:
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 tsp salt
2 eggs
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 tsp almond extract
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp blood orange zest, optional
4 tbsp (or 1/4 cup) butter, melted, plus 1 tbsp butter, melted, to grease the pans

For topping, optional:
1/2 cup of powdered sugar
OR
1 tsp blood orange juice
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar
1/2 cup pistachios, chopped finely

Instructions:

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

Add sugar and eggs to a large bowl. Beat with a hand mixer until thick and pale, about 2-3 minutes. Fold the vanilla and almond extracts and orange zest into the mixture until just combined.

Fold in the melted butter. Sift the flour mixture over the top and fold in until no dry streaks remain.

Press plastic wrap directly on top of the batter (as you would with homemade pudding) and refrigerate for at least three hours, or up to two days.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Brush melted butter into the shell molds in a madeleine pan (or a small muffin tin), freeze pan for 5 minutes, then brush the remaining melted butter on. Lightly flour each shell.

Fill molds almost all the way to the top, but not quite full. (Batter will will be thick, but will spread and even out as it bakes).

Bake for 10-12 minutes. Begin checking for doneness at 10 minutes. Each cookie should spring back when you press your finger into the center.

Dust lightly with powdered sugar. Or, add about 1 tbsp of blood orange juice to 1/2 cup of confectioner’s sugar. Dip half of a (cooled) madeleine into the glaze, and immediately top with fresh, chopped pistachios.

Madeleines7

Perhaps there is no more perfect dessert than a madeleine. Half cookie, half cake, a springy sponge cookie-cake that makes for a light-as-air dessert. It’s a perfect little two-bite, shell-shaped morsel, and it’s not hard to see why it went down in history.

The Tatin Sisters + Apple Tarte Tatin

Tarte Tatin5

Hi! Hello! How are you settling into October? The early chilly weather we have in Chicago is wearing me down a little. I wore my winter coat twice last week. TWICE! However, I’m trying to take advantage of the little bit of October I have left by watching all my scary favorites. Cold weather helps with this. Channel Zero just started again. I watched the first episode of the season last night. I… have thoughts. Mostly my thoughts are that I don’t want to go into our basement to do laundry anymore. Season 2 of Lore is up on Amazon, even though I haven’t dug into it yet. AND, just as I was making this list, I realized that the Halloween episode of Snap Judgement should be coming up soon. It’s really a wonderful month. (I just realized how often I talk about the weather and TV here. It really sums up who I am as a person…)

In addition to October being full of ghouls and goblins, and being National Pumpkin Month, it’s also National Apple Month!

Today we’re getting into some tarte Tatin history. Have you ever had tarte Tatin? I had not. However, I had seen many pictures online and I kind of fell in love with it. First, I think it’s beautiful. A little lumpy, with beautifully arranged apples. It’s really ugly-beautiful in a lot of ways. Anyway, if you haven’t had it, you’re in for a treat.

Tarte Tatin is said to have originated in Lamotte-Beauvron, in the Sologne region of France, at the Tatin Hotel, shortly before the turn of the century. The Tatin Hotel, and the subsequent tarte, is named after the two sisters who ran the hotel, Stephanie and Caroline Tatin.

There is, of course, always a story. The story goes that the tarte was created when the older Tatin sister, Stephanie, who was responsible for running the hotel’s kitchen, had a particularly busy day. Stephanie would often serve apple tarts to the Hotel guests, but in her fluster that day, she nearly burned the apples and, not wanting to discard the entire dish, she laid the pastry on top of the apples, finished baking the dessert in the oven, then flipped it over to serve. The dish was well-received and the rest is history. Whether or not this story is actually true, we’ll never know. According to a website dedicated to the tarte Tatin, the dish was already in existence before the sisters opened their hotel in 1890’s. It’s likely this dish was served at the Hotel–however, it was also certainly not the first upside-down dessert of its kind: There was a similar dessert from the area known as the tarte Solognote. The only thing we really know for sure is that the Tatin sisters were not the ones who named this recipe after themselves or their hotel.

By 1917, both sisters had passed away, and there is no record that the Tatin name was linked to the dish until the 1920’s. So, how did the tarte Tatin get its name?

One story credits French culinary writer Curnonsky. He wrote about it in his 1926 La France Gastronomique. He wrote, “The Famous Apple or Pear Tarte from the Demoiselles [Sisters] Tatin of La Motte-Beuvron.” The dessert’s popularity grew when the famed Parisian restaurant Maxim’s added it to their menu. Louis Vaudable, the owner of Maxim’s in the 30’s, claimed that he discovered the dessert after stumbling upon the sisters’ Hotel and, after being refused the recipe, passed himself off as a gardener to gain access to the Hotel, learned the recipe, and brought it back to his restaurant. However, Vaudable was only 15 when the last Tatin sister died, and they had retired long before then. So, while this story may have helped the tarte gain popularity and cement its name, it’s likely very false. C’est la vie.

Tarte Tatin

Tarte Tatin2

Tarte Tatin3

Tarte Tatin4

Tarte Tatin9

Apple Tarte Tatin
Makes 1 12-inch tart. Very slightly adapted from Bon Appetit.

Ingredients: 
6-7 Pink Lady or Honeycrisp apples, peeled
1/2 cup of white sugar, divided
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 sheet frozen puff pastry
Flour, for rolling out puff pastry

Instructions:

Take one sheet of frozen pastry out of the freezer. Allow it to thaw just enough to unfold it.

Divide the apples into three nearly equal-sized slices, and remove the cores, without going all the way through the apple. (I used the small end of my melon baller and it worked like a charm and I felt like a genius.)

Unfold the puff pastry. Roll it out to reduce the creases slightly, then cut a 12-inch circle out of it. Lay the circle on parchment paper on a cookie sheet and place back into the freezer until you are ready to use.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Put 1/4 of the sugar (so 1/8 cup) into a heavy-bottomed, oven-safe pan (I used my cast iron skillet). Place over medium heat and stir occasionally until the sugar has all dissolved. (If you find you’re getting clumps of sugar, don’t stir them. Give them a minute to melt. Keep stirring the already melted sugar, though, or it will burn.)

Once the sugar has melted, add the rest of the sugar, and stir until it has dissolved and has become a deep golden color. Then add the butter, the apple cider vinegar, and the salt. (The mixture will no longer seem smooth. That’s OK.) Lay your apples into the pan, cut side down. You may need to overlap them a little when they first go in. That’s OK too, as they will shrink as they cook, and you don’t want them to gap. Allow them to cook for about 10 minutes.

Once they are a bit caramelized, remove them from the heat. Flip the apples over so the cut side is now facing up. Lay your frozen puff pastry circle over the top of the apples. Place in the pre-heated oven for about 20 minutes, until golden brown. Then, turn the heat down to 350, and continue cooking for another 10 minutes.

Remove the pan from the oven and allow to sit for about 2 minutes. Then, place a (heat-safe!) serving plate over the top of the pan, bottom up. Wearing oven mitts, grab both the pan and the platter tightly, and invert the skillet so it’s on top. (Do this very quickly, or you’ll lose your caramel, make a mess, and burn yourself!)

Serve while still warm.

Enjoy!

Tarte Tatin6

This is just my kind of dessert. The focus is obviously on the apples because, well, it’s mostly apples! No double-crust. No super-thick caramel. Just delicious apples, lightly sweetened, accompanied by a thin, flaky crust. Next time, I’m going to try it with pears or quinces. File this one under deceptively, but impressively, simple.

Lemon Juice Day + Lemon Curd Tart

Lemon Tart10

I feel summer leaving and I hear fall knocking. It’s less than a month away, and let me tell you, I’m ready for it: Apple cider slushies from County Line Orchard, autumn-colored mums on stoops, fuzzy sweaters, and making my Halloween costume… However, we have a lot of stuff to do before summer disappears completely. We have a BIG September coming up. We’re going to be traveling a lot. And I’m trying not to think about it all, lest my anxiety goes into overdrive.

But before September arrives, let’s pucker up: It’s National Lemon Juice Day!

I had no grand plan going into this post. Mostly, I wanted to share a sunny lemon recipe before summer ends. But then I fell down a rabbit hole reading about the history of lemon juice and medical science. We’re going to talk about scurvy first, and then I’m going to give you a lemon tart recipe. Sound good? That all goes hand in hand, right?

Before the 1800’s, there was a deadly scourge plaguing the British Navy’s sailors: scurvy. Scurvy was a disease caused by a severe Vitamin C deficiency. Those inflicted would suffer from things like hallucinations, bleeding gums, weakness, and wounds that wouldn’t heal. Untreated, scurvy would eventually lead to death and it is estimated that, between the years of 1500-1800, 2 million sailors died of the disease. Far fewer were killed during combat.

It wasn’t until 1747 that Dr. James Lind, a Scot and ship’s surgeon aboard the HMS Salisbury, discovered that lemons could be used to prevent scurvy. Lind’s fellow crewmembers were afflicted with an outbreak of scurvy, so the doctor began an experiment using 12 sick sailors. One group was given seawater, while others were given sulfuric acid or cider. Two of the men were given two oranges and lemon. While most of the other sailors remained ill, one of the sailors given citrus was healed, and the other had greatly improved by the end of the six day trial. Using this information, Lind published A Treatise of the Scurvy in 1753. The work linked a lack of scurvy with citrus fruit, as well as other fruits and vegetables, though at this time, Vitamin C was not pinpointed as the key.

But Lind’s discovery was ignored! To give you an idea of the cost: During the Seven Years War, which began three years after Lind wrote his Treatise, of the almost 185,000 men who enlisted in the Royal Navy, around 1,500 died in combat, while another 133,000 died from disease, mostly scurvy. It wasn’t until years later that the wider community learned the secret, after another Scottish physician in the Royal Navy, Sir Gilbert Blane, wrote a pamphlet entitled On the most effective means for preserving the health of seamen, particularly in the Royal Navy. He also pushed for monthly health updates from sailors, and began advocating for sailors to be given citrus during times at sea. The suggestion was finally implemented in 1795, almost 50 years after Lind’s first scurvy treatment experiment.

Incredibly, it turns out that Lind’s discovery and lack of traction was not even the first time this had happened. In 2016, a cure for scurvy was found written in a book of household remedies in 1707 by housewife Ebot Mitchell, from Gloucester, England. Mitchell’s “Recp.t for the Scurvy” includes alcohol and a healthy serving of orange juice to combat the illness. Had her recipe been more widespread, thousands of lives could have been saved.

I found it amazing that the use of citrus juice to combat scurvy has been forgotten and rediscovered more than once in the history of seafaring. The disease killed thousands before knowledge of its treatment became widespread. Eventually, however, the cure became very closely associated with the British Navy: If you’ve ever heard a British person referred to as a “limey,” that nickname comes from the practice of British sailors eating lemons, and eventually limes, from the Caribbean while at sea. Meanwhile, in the United States, the citrus cure for scurvy wasn’t commonly used until after the American Civil War, when many men succumbed to the disease.

So, you could basically consider this lemon tart a health food recipe.

Lemon Tart

Lemon Tart5

Lemon Tart6

Lemon Tart2

Lemon Tart 
Makes one 8-inch tart.

Ingredients: 
For shortbread crust:
1/2 tsp vanilla
1 egg yolk
1 tbsp whole milk
1 1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 tsp salt
10 tbsp unsalted butter, cubed and very cold

For curd filling:
3/4 cup lemon juice
2/3 cup sugar
1/8 tsp salt
zest of 1 lemon (about 1 & 1/2 tsp)
3 eggs
8 tbsp unsalted butter, cubed and room temperature

Instructions: 

In a small bowl, combine the vanilla, egg yolk, and milk. Whisk to combine.

In a food processor, combine the flour, sugar, and salt. Pulse to combine. Add in the butter and pulse until butter is in pea-sized pieces. Add in your egg-milk mixture and pulse until the mixture combines and begins to pull away from the sides of the processor bowl.

Pour the mixture out onto a lightly floured surface. Pull the dough together, kneading a few times until all dry streaks are combined. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 35-40 minutes.

Once rested, press the dough into an 8-inch pie pan using your fingers. Using a fork, poke holes all over the top of the dough. Refrigerate the dough as you preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Before putting in the oven, fill the pastry shell with parchment paper held down by dried beans or pie weights. Bake for 20 minutes, remove parchment and pie weights, and continue baking for about 15 minutes, or until lightly golden brown.

Allow the tart crust to cool for at least half an hour before beginning the curd.

For the filling, add the lemon juice, sugar, lemon zest, and eggs to a heavy-bottomed saucepan and whisk to combine. Place over medium heat and begin continually whisking, adding a few cubes of butter at a time. Continue whisking after all the butter has been added, until the mixture begins to thicken. Remove from heat.

Pour curd through a metal strainer straight into the cooled tart crust. Use the back of a spoon to push the curd through the strainer.

Allow the curd to cool to room temperature and then refrigerate for at least 2 hours as the curd sets.

Sprinkle with confectioner’s sugar (optional), and enjoy!

Lemon Tart7

It’s quite lemony, which is my favorite. If you’d rather make it a bit sweeter and less tart, you can use equal parts lemon and sugar. Also, if you’re looking for more lemon juice recipes, might I suggest one of my favorite summer desserts of all time (to squeeze in before summer is completely over): Lemon Atlantic Beach Pie.

I wish you fair winds and following seas!