Quince Pie with Biscuit Top + Kickasserole

For the longest, most incurious time, I thought that quinces were just bootleg pears. I always wondered why farmers market vendors didn't wipe off the cobwebs before selling them, and I instead skipped on to fruit that did not appear to have been colonized by dust bunnies. I still don't know why quinces are furry on the outside, but what I've recently learned is that the quince is pretty much one of the most ancient fruits of all time--preceding the apple in most countries--and that Greek myths and certain biblical stories involving apples might actually be referring to quinces. Ladies of the day used to bite into quinces in order to "perfume their kiss before entering the bridal chamber" (shudder), and I believe it, because this is absolutely the most perfumed fruit I've ever cooked with. Raw, it tastes like an astringent potato, but cooked up and softened, the quince magically becomes rosy and tastes like a more floral apple or a concentrated pear.

Christian tells me this is a Japanese maple. It was at its brightest during the weekend of Kickasserole!

My favorite cooking site, Lottie + Doof, seems to have incidentally started a one-blog education campaign about the fruit when he posted a Martha Stewart quince pie recipe a few weeks back. Lo and behold, that mysterious moldy-seeming pear-ish fruit was explained! And used in a beautiful pie recipe to boot! A pie recipe with no bottom crust, minimal grunt work, and enough disarmingly fruity goodness to cut through the buttery, rich, and fried tides of any Kickasserole feast. This pie, impressive if sort of homely looking as well, ended up being one of my favorite Kickasserole desserts, so much so that I literally licked the plate clean. If you can't find quinces in your area, the technique of this pie would work great with any combination of hard fruits--poach in maple syrup until palatable, cover with a salty biscuit top, and bake until bubbly and awesome.

Just about the whole Kickasserole crew!

Quince Pie with Biscuit Top!

Barely adapted from Martha Stewart via Lottie + Doof

In his version, Tim of Lottie + Doof made a maple whipped cream to go along with the pie. Most regrettably, the kitchen folk and I were not in the proper state to be whipping cream by the time the people were ready for their dessert. There was no love loss, but I'm sure the experience would have been that much better if the pie had been accompanied by the whipped cream.

For the filling

5 quinces, peeled, cored, and quartered

5 cups water

1 cup pure Grade B maple syrup

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1 vanilla bean, split and scraped, pod reserved

2 teaspoons cornstarch

1.  Bring the quinces, water, syrup, sugar, and vanilla seeds + pod to a simmer in a large pot over medium heat. Cover pot with parchment paper, and cook until quinces are soft and rosy pink, about two hours. My quinces turned ruby red, but sometimes they don't change color until late in the process if at all, so be sure to judge doneness by the softness of the fruit. Discard the vanilla pod and proceed with the recipe.

For the topping

1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour

1/3 cup fine yellow cornmeal (grind it finely in a food processor if yours is coarse or medium)

1/3 cup granulated sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder

3/4 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 sticks cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes

1 cup heavy cream

3 tablespoons slivered almonds

1.  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, cornmeal, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Sift the ingredients a second time (this helps giving the biscuits lift as the topping bakes). Cut in butter with a pastry blender or two knives or rub the butter into the dry mixture with your fingers until it resembles coarse cornmeal with some large pieces remaining. Make a well in the center of the mixture. Pour in cream and stir until well-combined.

2.  Using a slotted spoon, transfer quinces to a nine-inch deep-dish pie plate set on a foil-lined baking sheet. Add one cup of the poaching liquid (reserve the rest) and the cornstarch. Toss gently. Arrange large spoonfulls (quarter- to half-cup each) of biscuit dough on top, leaving a hole in the middle; this is your steam vent. Sprinkle almonds on top and bake until biscuits are golden brown and filling is bubbling, about 50 minutes. Allow pie to cool completely; the flavors are a bit strong when warm, and this is much better at room temperature. 

For the maple whipped cream

1 cup heavy cream, chilled

1/4 cup maple syrup

1. Just before serving, whip the cream in a glass bowl until soft peaks form; fold in maple syrup. Garnish pie with scoops of cream, et voila!

And what about that poaching liquid?

Again, Lottie + Doof has the bright ideas! Tim suggested making a cocktail of rye and the leftover poaching liquid, suitably dubbed The Poacher. We mixed the poaching liquid with Knob Creek bourbon and found the flavors to be slightly too intense, so we added some sparkle water and ice and served the drink in a collins glass -- it was pretty outstanding. You could also reduce the liquid to make a syrup for use as a yogurt mix-in or ice cream topping, or maybe as a caramel addition!

Peanut Butter Banana Cream Pie

Topped with halved dark chocolate malt balls.

Between the ages of 12 and 14, I was obsessed with the banana cream pie recipe from The Joy of Cooking. My dad loved it too, which made it easy to find an excuse to make the pie whenever my mom the flight attendant was working. Little more than sliced bananas between layers of whipped cream and chocolate shavings, the pie would hold up in the fridge for about a day before the filling turned slimy and gray and became something that only my dad had the stomach to stomach. While I know that I totally loved banana cream pie, it has grossed me out in recent years since the day-old refrigerated alien mush is much more present in my mind than the fluffy banana layers that beget the mush. Now fast-forward to this year's Kickasserole feast where I ignored my slimy misgivings and revisited the banana cream pie printed in Baked Explorations. This recipe uses pudding instead of whipped cream, and the pie is topped with a peanut butter layer that makes for a sturdier update on the bare bones banana pie of my youth. In short, this recipe is awesome. It would last longer than a day in the fridge, but won't last longer than an hour on your dinner table since it's super good, so I say hop to it and see if you can squeeze this one into your Thanksgiving repertoire.

And a merry Thanksgiving to y'all! Thanks so much for supporting this blog!

Peanut Butter Banana Cream Pie

Barely adapted from Baked Explorations

This pie is seriously easy, but it takes a while to make because of the refrigeration steps. It's a good one to start in the morning and then forget about while you work on other dishes. Also awesome is that the only part that needs baking is the crust. I didn't add any bourbon to the pudding, but I was seriously tempted to; let us know if you customize!

For the crust

6 oz. vanilla cookies (a good time to remember that Nilla wafers taste exactly like marshmallows)

6 tablespoons chilled, unsalted butter, cut into half-inch cubes

2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1.  Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.  Put all of the ingredients in the bowl of a food processor, and blend until mixture looks like moist crumbs, about one minute. Transfer to a nine-inch glass (glass!) pie plate, and press the crust to the bottom and up the sides until it's even with the rim and even thickness throughout. I do this step by pressing a floured metal measuring cup on the bottom and up the sides, and using the thumb of my other hand to tamp down a rim.  Bake crust until golden brown, 12 to 15 minutes; if the crust has puffed, push it down with a metal spoon. Allow to cool completely. 

For the puddin' layer

1/3 cup granulated sugar

1 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch

1/8 teaspoon salt

1 cup heavy whipping cream

1/2 cup whole milk

2 large egg yolks

1 vanilla bean split lengthwise

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

3 firm, but ripe bananas

2 tablespoons orange juice

1. In a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan, whisk the sugar, cornstach, and salt. Slowly add the whipping cream, then the milk, whisking the whole time to prevent lumps. Add yolks, and using a small pointed knife or a quarter teaspoon, scrape the vanilla seeds into the mixture. Drop the pod in too. Cook over medium heat, whisking constantly, until pudding thickens and boils, about five minutes. Remove from heat and add butter, whisking vigorously for about two minutes to release excess heat. Spread pudding in cooled crust, and chill until filling is cool, about one hour.

2.  Thinly slice bananas on the diagonal and, in a small bowl, gently mix them with the OJ (this prevents them from turning brown). Blot the excess OJ off the bananas with a paper towel, and arrange the slices in a single layer across the top; make sure to cover completely. Proceed with PB layer.

For the peanut butter topping

3 oz. cream cheese, softened

1/2 cup powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/3 cup creamy peanut butter (not old-fashioned or freshly ground; I used Whole Foods 365 brand)

2/3 cup heavy whipping cream, chilled

Malt balls, chocolate-covered peanuts, chocolate shavings, or any decorative goodness of your choosing

1.  In a large bowl, mix the cream cheese and powdered sugar with an electric mixer until smooth. Beat in the vanilla, then peanut butter, mixing until the color is uniform and the mixture is slightly fluffed, about one minute. 

2.  In a separate glass bowl, beat the whipping cream on medium-high until soft peaks form (not stiff peaks please). Here the directions said to add the whipped cream to the PB mixture in large spoonfulls and fold it in with a rubber spatula. This didn't work well for me though, so I ended up using my electric mixer for about 30 seconds, until the topping was smooth and uniform in color. 

3.  Spread the peanut butter topping evenly across the pie. Adorn with chocolate topping of your choice; I went with dark chocolate malt balls sliced in half. Chill pie for at least three hours, and up to eight.

Spicy Chocolate Sorbet

Sorbet is so much more photogenic if you lick it first.

Joey just handed me a glass of IPA and is now beat-boxing Beethoven and dancing the robot in the center of his bedroom. This is among the many things that I am grateful for this Thanksgiving season, also including knowing some exceptionally talented and fun people in DC who love to eat. Yesterday, my house and I hosted the first of what will hopefully become an annual Thanksgiving for friends, lovingly dubbed Kickasserole, and it was a downright killer if not outrightly hedonistic meal. Our friends and their friends rallied to bring awesome soups, apple pie doughnuts, standout pies, cheesecake, roasted vegetables aplenty, handmade pasta, smoky salads, sopapaillas, and of course, boatloads of macaroni and cheese (vegan and regular; photos to come). I made a few pies and some rigatoni that was fully drowning in gruyere, and with the tightrope walk that is sharing one oven between six housemates and 44 friends, well, I was thankful to have made a few ice creams and sorbets earlier in the week. As you're making preparations for your own feast-y celebrations this week, fear not the convenience and awesomeness of the freezer. In addition to cuties with robot moves and friends with culinary prowess out the wazoo, pie à la mode is another reason to be thankful this (and every) season. 

Spicy Chocolate Sorbet

The basic chocolate sorbet recipe is by David Lebovitz; the addition of spices and booze is my own and inspired by my lovely friend Samantha. Cinnamon is my jam, but next time I might try steeping cardamom pods and adding espresso powder instead of using cinnamon, chili, and brandy. So many good combinations await!

2 1/4 cups water

3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa (use Ghiradelli or better)

1 cup granulated sugar

Salt

1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon

2 teaspoons chipotle, smoked paprika, or chili powder of your choice

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

6 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped finely (I used Guittard chips)

1 tablespoon brandy, or to taste

1. Make sure that your ice cream bowl is frozen and ready to churn. Okay, check. In a large pot, bring 1 1/2 cups of the water, the cocoa, sugar, salt, cinnamon, and chili to a boil over medium heat; whisk frequently. Let  the mixture boil for 45 seconds, whisking vigorously the whole time.

2. Remove from heat and add chocolate; stir until it's melted. Add the remaining 3/4 cup water, vanilla extract, and brandy. Put the mixture in a blender and blend for 15 seconds to smooth it out. Transfer to a container and chill the mixture thoroughly, preferably overnight. Then, freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions. I then froze my sorbet in the freezer for an additional two hours to thicken it up some more.  

Maple Pecan Tartlets (And When Things Could Go Better)

Hazelnut cardamom "tartlets"

I have a hard time screwing up. Sometimes I cry, often I break things, and if I'm not snappy then I'm hysterical. Shown are some hazelnut, cardamom, honey tartlets that I absolutely effed up three times in a row (in the same night!). Not shown is my poor little dented tartlet pan bottom that I banged repeatedly and frustratedly with a fork while trying to dislodge a stuck, curdled tart. The truth behind my kitchen is that I'm thrilled with about 80% of what I bake and totally mortified by the rest of it, and usually I only blog about what turned out awesome. I've done a lot of bake sales and events in DC since participating in that first bake sale way back when, and I've always been proud of my contributions. This makes me pretty lucky as far as sharing what I love goes, but I have yet to learn how to troubleshoot or recover when things go disastrously. If there was any day to know how to screw up gracefully, it would have been last Saturday.

Maple pecan tartlets. Say it proud!

Before the Punk Rock Flea Market, my pumpkin whoopie pies fell flat, I broke my favorite dish, broke my oven thermometer, broke the sink, and I'm pretty sure that our new oven is out of whack, so maybe I broke that too. I burned cookies, underbaked cookies, over-diluted icing, ran out of butter, lost a tartlet pan bottom, dropped stuff on the floor, and didn't bake my maple pecan tartlets with enough time to allow them to set. Panicked, I called my sister who counseled me to save what I could and walk away from the rest; "remove the stress," she said. And I did! And she was right! In the end, I donated four potato-gruyere tartlets and two dozen cookies (less than half of what I had planned to sell) with moderate success, and Joey and I spent a killer day thrifting and eating food made by others. I learned that if I must mess up, then I shouldn't agonize over it or smash my tartlet pans with a fork. I'll save what I can and walk away from the rest and hey, who knows, maybe by the time I get back, my maple pecan tarts will be set and they will taste so dang good that any anguish will have almost been worth it. Plus, I'll relearn for the umpteenth time that rushing through the kitchen is no way to bake; lesson learned (again).

Maple Pecan Tartlets

Adapted from Gourmet

Makes six tartlets, but could be adapted for one nine-inch tart.

These would be super for Thanksgiving. I love maple with most of my soul, and it's great and gooey with the pecans. The original recipe calls for maple sugar, but since it's so pricey and there's already maple syrup in the tartlets, I opted for tubrinando sugar. I don't think these needed any help in the maple department, but if you've got maple sugar lying around (you luxurious animal!), you might try it.

For the tartlet shells

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 cup powdered sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 stick plus 1 tablespoon very cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes

1 large egg, lightly beaten

1.  In the bowl of a food processor, add flour, sugar, and salt, pulse once to blend. Sprinkle the cold butter across the top and pulse several times until mixture has some pea-sized lumps of butter and some oatmeal flake-sized lumps of butter. Do not overmix. Add the egg a little bit at a time, pulsing after each addition. Once it's all in, process in long pulses--about ten seconds each--until mixture comes together in clumps. Shortly before this stage, the processor will make a different, deeper sound; that's how you know the dough is about to be ready.

2.  Dump the contents of the processor onto a lightly floured surface, and using your hands, gently incorporate any ingredients that didn't get mixed in. Flatten dough into a disk, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate until firm, about two hours.  After the dough has chilled, divide into six equal rounds. Roll out each round to a five-inch diameter and gently line your tartlet shells with the rounds. Either trim the overhang or tuck it down for a double wall of crust (what I do). Pop them into the freezer for 30 minutes to chill thoroughly (this helps prevent the crusts from shrinking).

For the filling

2 large eggs

1/2 cup Grade B maple syrup (the good shtuff)

6 tablespoons light brown sugar, packed

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly

3 tablespoons maple sugar (I used turbinando)

1 1/2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar

Rounded 1/8 teaspoon salt

1 cup pecans, 2/3 cup finely chopped and 1/3 cup coarsely chopped

1.  Preheat oven to 370 degrees F. Line a cookie sheet with foil, and line each of the frozen crusts of the tartlets with a square of lightly buttered foil, shiny side down. Bake the tartlet shells for ten minutes. Remove the foil and bake for an additional seven to ten minutes, or until the edges are slightly gold.  Remove and let cool (in pans) for about 15 minutes.

2.  Increase the temperature to 375 degrees. As crusts are cooling, whisk the eggs, syrup, sugars, vinegar, and salt in a medium sized bowl. Make sure that everything is evenly mixed.  Put the tartlet crusts on the cookie sheet, and evenly distribute the finely chopped pecans to each of the shells. Then evenly distribute the filling among the shells, and top with the remaining large pieces of pecans. Bake for 15 to 18 minutes until filling is just set. Remove and cool on racks for at least 15 minutes and up to 30, until filling has firmed somewhat. Serve warm or at room temperature, possibly with bourbon whipped cream.

Punk Rock Flea Market and Bake Sale: This Saturday!

If you're in the Washington, DC area this weekend, please come to Positive Force DC's Punk Rock Flea Market at St. Stephen's Church on Saturday! Positive Force DC is an awesome organization that works throughout the city to build community and help people in need, and it's a huge supporter of local arts and events. The flea market benefits Positive Force, and there is going to be a heap of local crafts, art, music (by True Womanhood, Imperial China, Tereu Tereu), and food, including baked goods made by myself and others! I'll be offering some brand-new baked goods, one with about a bucket of maple syrup, and the other with some salty-as-shit gruyere for the savory crowd. Please join us, and come meet other awesome folks about town who are dedicating their Saturday to a great cause!