Date and Brown Butter Tart with Bourbon Whipped Cream

It was surely some sight last week in the harbor of Belfast when four pajama-clad arms reached out from the cap of Emily’s 1988 Toyota Hilux pickup to unlatch the bed at 7:00 on a Monday morning. A group of young fisherman had been hollering about barnacles while the man behind the information desk arrived to raise the flag, and Emily and I hopped somewhat sheepishly and bedraggled to the cab of the truck so we could drive away for breakfast. I was expecting hoots and hollers or at least a “hello,” but the fisherdudes surveyed us only casually before we drove away.

That was the Monday after Maine’s thrity-sixth annual Common Ground Country Fair. Along with our farming compatriots, Emily—the new cheesemaking apprentice, as I am the new sort of junior cheesemaker—and I captained a few tables and sold cheese at the Maine Cheese Guild booth for all three days of the fair. The fair was some sight to behold—and behold is all we really did since there wasn’t much time to experience much beyond our booth—with farmers, businessowners, artists, and craftspeople from all over the state coming together to hock their wares and promote all the of stellar stuff that’s going on in Maine. I did manage to escape to a beginning beekeeping course, catch a few moments of clog dancing, and pet the cashmere goat kids who would soon be turned to pelts.

In any case, I made this tart several weeks ago and since then have had a serious baking confidence crisis, but working from dawn until beyond dusk has made sharing timely stories and baked goods more difficult. So, blog, say farewell to Arlene, who’s left for a job at Appleton Farm in Ipswich (!), say howdy to your new junior cheesemaker—me!—who is gracefully-ish bumbling through havarti and managing some cheeseplant mischief, and meet Emily, our new cheeseaking apprentice who is awesome. AND THIS TART. Brown butter, dates, crispy top, chewy insides; don’t sleep on it. It’s so easy and hugely delicious—it would be a real shame to pass this one up while you’re enjoying your own very busy-ass life!

Date and Brown Butter Tart

Adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin, one of my favorites!

1 recipe tart dough or half of your favorite pie crust recipe
40 to 45 Deglet Noor dates, pitted
1/2 vanilla bean, or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
9 tablespoons salted butter
2 extra-large eggs
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
1 tablespoon raw or large-grain sugar

Bourbon Whipped Cream
1 cup whipping cream
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons bourbon, or to taste

1.  Prebake tart shell: Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Roll out your tart dough to a ten-inch circle and line an eight-inch tart pan with it. Prick the bottom all over with a fork and pop into the freezer for a half-hour. Once chilled, press a well-buttered sheet of foil to the dough and up the edges, and bake for 20 minutes. Remove foil and bake for another ten until crust is golden.

2.  Make tart: Reduce heat to 350 degrees F. Place dates about a half-inch apart in concentric circles on tart shell. Slice open vanilla bean and scrape out pulp onto butter. Run the knife through the butter to ensure that you don't lose any pulp. Heat a medium saute pan over medium heat for one minute. Add the butter and the vanilla bean pod to the pan, and cook for six to ten minutes until the butter browns and smells nutty. Discard the vanilla pod.

3. Whisk the eggs and two-thirds cup of granulated together in a bowl. Whisk in the flour and salt, and stir in the warm butter. Pour the batter over the dates in the tart shell. Sprinkle the single tablespoon of large-grain sugar over the top. Bake for 30 minutes until the filling puffs up, browns, and is set. Cool the tart for at least 20 minutes before serving.

4. Make whipped cream: Beat heavy cream with egg beaters or in a stand mixer on high until frothy. Add sugar and bourbon and continue whipping until soft peaks form, about five minutes. Serve!

Chocolate Bourbon Pudding Squares

I am impatiently awaiting spring to spring. We've gone from 50 to 90 to 30 degrees and back, but there is nary a rhubarb stalk—the baker’s flag for spring—at my farmers market stalls. With recipes like this jam, this drink, this cookie, and this pie or this tart calling to be made, it felt unnatural to venture back into my winter fruit reserves and preserves, hence: chocolate. These pudding squares aren't a thumb-twiddling option or runner-up to rhubarb, even in spite of my using them as a seasonal in-betweener. This is a bona fide delicious dessert that has been calling ever since I hoarded Alice Medrich’s cookie book from the library and wondered just how in gravity’s name the pudding sides stay up like that. They are so good—like a more boss brownie. 

I made these late last week for a special occasion that has become all-too infrequent over the past few months, namely a visit from my beautiful musical friends in Richmond who came up to DC to play a show in our newly refurbished basement space. We stayed up until the wee hours drinking a leftover bottle of New Year’s (maybe?) champagne and shooting the shit with the yarn-spinner of all time before waking up early to scarf bagels and visit RVA for the day. From whence, we decided it would be a pro decision to make and consume 18 deviled eggs (albeit delicious ones!) in less than two hours, which has led to my forever swearing off my latest favorite food; I still feel a little green. The visit revolved around food and talks and was way too short, all as always, and it made me even more antsy for spring and summer, which are both best spent lazing on rocks and flailing in the James. Or, as it were, eating chocolate-bourbon pudding bars and waiting for the rhubarb to show up. Hope you like these!


Chocolate Bourbon Pudding Squares
Adapted from Alice Medrich's Chewy, Gooey, Crispy, Crunchy


For the crust
7 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and still warm
¼ cup light brown sugar, packed
½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
½ teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
2 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, chips or chopped bar

For the filling
¼ cup granulated sugar
⅓ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tablespoons cornstarch
⅛ teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
1 ½ cups whole milk
½ cup heavy cream
5 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate with up to 62% cacao, finely chopped
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon bourbon (Medrich uses rum)

1.  Line an 8-inch square metal baking pan on the bottom and all four sides with foil. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Position a rack in the lower third of the oven.

2.  In a medium bowl, combine the melted butter with the brown sugar, vanilla, and salt. Add the flour and mix just until blended. The dough will be soft and oily; that’s fine! Press the dough evenly over the bottom of the lined pan. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown at the edges. Remove the pan from the oven and immediately sprinkle the chopped chocolate over the hot crust. Let stand for about five minutes to melt the chocolate. Use a rubber or offset spatula to spread the chocolate over the surface of the crust in a thin but thorough layer. Let the crust cool and then refrigerate while you make filling, until chocolate is set.

3.  In a heavy, medium saucepan, whisk the sugar, cocoa, cornstarch, and salt to blend. Add about three to four tablespoons of the milk and whisk to form a smooth paste. Whisk in the remaining milk and the cream. Heat the mixture over medium heat, stirring constantly with a flat-ended heatproof spatula or wooden spoon and scraping the bottom, sides, and corners of the pan to prevent scalding until the pudding thickens and begins to bubble at the edges, five or six minutes (mine actually went for eight). Add the chocolate, vanilla, and rum and stir a bit faster to smooth out the pudding for about 1 ½ minutes. Scrape the hot pudding onto the crust and level it with one or two strokes of the spatula.

4.  Let the pudding cool, undisturbed (without mixing, jiggling, or spooning out a taste), at room temperature for one hour. Refrigerate the pan, uncovered, until the pudding is completely cool. Cover it and chill for at least several hours or overnight.

5.  Use the edges of the foil to lift the bars from the pan and transfer to a cutting board. Cut into 16 squares. Medrich also suggests cutting round “bars” with a biscuit cutter, but I couldn’t bear to leave the scraps! Dust with cocoa powder and/or powdered sugar to serve. Squares will keep covered in the fridge for about three days.

Pumpkin Bourbon Ice Cream with Ginger Sandwich Cookies

Sometimes you just need a distraction. Or a new job. Or a pickleback and a bunch of bar snacks. Or maybe you’re feeling kitchen-freaky, like you didn’t expend enough energy on Thanksgiving and you desperately need to make something totally easy yet time-consuming in order to reset your maniacal, holiday-plotting ways. Got it; I can help with that last one. These li’l ice cream sandwiches were on my desserts shortlist for last week, but the burden of transporting a frozen ice cream canister in a packed car to Pittsburgh was such that I opted for a full pie arsenal instead. No matter. These sandwiches still have their place. They're a killer way to put pumpkin in its best and proper light—that is, with booze and lightly spiced.

This is the first Thanksgiving that I can think of where there was no pumpkin pie, which was definitely fine with me. The stuff has never been my favorite, playing umpteenth fiddle to whatever else is on the table, which this year was a veritable smorgasbord of delicious weirdo pies, but I do like pumpkin all the same. And I can’t resist how nice it feels to be baking and making with pumpkin in the fall—it’s ceremonial in a way. So give it a shot if you’ve got the means to make this ice cream. It’s subtle and creamy and a lovely way to pay homage to the last licks of autumn.

Pumpkin-Bourbon Ice Cream

Adapted from Karen DeMasco with logistical help from David Lebovitz

1 1/2 cups whole milk

1 cup heavy cream

1/3 cup + 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 cinnamon stick

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

5 large egg yolks

1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

2 to 3 tablespoons bourbon, or to taste

3/4 cup canned pumpkin puree (not pie filling)

1.  Make an ice bath by putting some ice and a little water in a large bowl and nesting a smaller bowl with capacity for two liters inside it. Set a mesh strainer over the top.

2.  In a medium saucepan, mix the milk, cream, sugar, ginger, cinnamon, cinnamon stick, nutmeg, and salt. Warm the mixture on low heat until the edges begin to foam.

3.  Whisk the egg yolks in a separate medium bowl. Whisking continuously, slowly pour about half of the milk mixture in a slow, steady stream into the egg yolks. Pour the yolks mixture back into the saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring the whole time and scraping the bottom of the pan with a rubber spatula to ensure nothing sticks. Continue cooking until mixture thickens enough to coat the spatula, between 160 and 170 degrees F if you're using a thermometer (but looks alone are good enough to judge!).

4.  Quickly pour the mixture through the strainer into the bowl that's settled in the ice bath. Discard the cinnamon stick. Mix in the brown sugar, stir for a bit to cool, cover with plastic, and refrigerate until well chilled, preferably overnight.

5.  When chilled, whisk in the vanilla, bourbon, and pumpkin puree. Taste, add more bourbon if you like, then strain the whole thing in a fine mesh strainer one more time to ensure that grainy pumpkin doesn't make it into the ice cream. Freeze in your ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions. If storing in the freezer, place plastic wrap directly on top to prevent the formation of ice crystals. The liquor helps this ice cream stay creamier than most would, so ours has stuck around for three weeks and still tastes as smooth as it did on day one.

Ginger Sandwich Cookies

Follow this recipe, which has had a starring role in this kitchen since 2009.

I actually omitted the crystallized ginger this time around and increased the freshly grated ginger to a full three teaspoons to compensate. It was delicious!! 

1.  Once the cookies are cool, scoop 1/4 cup of pumpkin ice cream onto the back of one, sandwich it with another, and allow to firm up in the freezer for about 20 minutes. If storing longer than that, wrap in plastic wrap.

Bourbon Ice Cream

I've been sitting on this bourbon ice cream recipe for a minute, partly because it seems to have made its way around the blogs already, but mostly because the end of 2010 was both a blinding rush of parties and a stultifying burrito fog. Back in California, I baked little, ate lots, vegetated myself into a Law & Order SVU fugue state, and generally dismissed any and all responsibility, save for a sisterly pact to ruin Mom's winning streak in Hearts:  Holidays well done! 

And now I'm back in the emotionally un-regressive land that is my east coast home, ready to kick my creative projects into gear, although not so ready that I'm blogging a spanking-new recipe. All the same, this bourbon ice cream is totally golden, and whether you're snowed-in or not, it's winter-appropriate and delightfully boozy. If you're unsure of ice cream in the winter, I can say with conviction that this recipe in particular makes a killer affogato too.

I hope that it's not too late to wish you a solid New Year! Thanks so much for reading along with me. I hope to share many more delicious projects with you this year!

Bourbon Ice Cream

Adapted from Bon Appetit via Lottie + Doof

2 cups heavy whipping cream

2 cups half-and-half

1/2 cup nonfat dry milk powder (I skipped this, but it would add more creamy if you left it!)

6 large egg yolks

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup dark brown sugar, packed

1/4 teaspoon coarse kosher salt

7 tablespoons bourbon (original called for five; I used Woodford Reserve)

1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract

1.  Bring cream, half-and-half, and milk powder to simmer over medium-high heat in a heavy-bottomed saucepan until powder dissolves. Remove from heat.

2.  Combine egg yolks, sugars, and coarse salt in a large bowl; whisk until thick and blended. Slowly pour hot cream into egg mixture, whisking all the while. Return egg and cream mixture to the pan, and stir over medium-low heat until the the custard thickens enough to leave a trail on the back of a spoon when you draw your finger across it and the temperature registers 175 to 178 degrees F., about three minutes. Remove from heat, and mix in bourbon and vanilla.

3.  Cover custard and refrigerate, stirring occasionally until cold, at least three hours. Process in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions. Cover and freeze until solid, about six hours. Will keep for a week or too!