Five Golden Butters

Man, December moves as fast as lightning and I freely admit that I can’t keep up. In lieu of a full post about bourbon ice cream, cardamom cookies, potato-gruyere tartlets, or chestnut wedding cookies (see how far behind I am?!) this post is dedicated to unveiling the Tanglewood Recipe Box and to reminding you of some excellent holiday-appropriate recipes that it’s definitely not too late to bake. These triple ginger cookies have become a serious year-round favorite in my kitchen, as has this molasses gingerbread and these honey walnut tartlets. Chewy amaretti cookies with chocolate filling, classic peanut brittle, and sugar cookies with espresso topping would all make welcome gifts or contributions to the holiday table!

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! 

Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls with Brown Sugar Icing

It has been an eventful week (okay, okay, eight) since I last blogged and summer reluctantly, finally expired.  It's cold now! And while it was becoming such, a lot happened. I moved from the house that feels like Christmas to the house that feels like Thanksgiving, started selling earrings in an awesome store that newly opened in DC, took a vacation to visit my parents in Maine (where we discovered the perfect flat-iron building for housing a dream bakery), became briefly obsessed with religious snake-handlers after reading a memoir about the exploits of one, acquired shared responsibility for a Rottweiler named Emma Jane who looks cute as pie dressed like a banana, and gave all of the Tootsie pops to a five-year-old who was dressed like Harry Potter and holding the hand of his curly-haired baby sister. I have yet to go apple-picking (for shame!), but a group of considerate folks from New York brought us a bushel of upstate apples that have been put to good use inside cheddar cheese pie crust and given as consolation prizes to the post-candy trick-or-treaters that were banging on our door at 10:30 on Sunday.

And while I hope you haven't tired of the lone September recipe that I bequeathed--and really how could anyone tire of a doughnut recipe?--I come bearing a new autumn-appropriate recipe for pumpkin cinnmon rolls that I hope you'll try. This was originally posted on TheKitchn a few weeks back, and while I was skeptical about the instructions that don't require you to activate the yeast or knead the dough, my dough was nice and puffed the next morning when I pulled it out of the fridge, and these rolls baked up delicious! I would have liked them better with the cream cheese icing from over here, but it's real hard to go wrong with cinnamon rolls of any kind, especially on a Sunday morning when enjoyed first hot and second cold after a bike ride and during a retreat to plaid blankets.

P.S. Please don't forget to vote today!

Pumpkin Cinnamon Rolls with Brown Sugar Icing

Adapted from TheKitchn.com

Makes about 16 rolls

As I said, I was skeptical about the yeast, so I've provided instructions for activating yeast as I normally would have done. If you'd like to skip that step and want some validation about it, go ahead and consult the original recipe over here.!

For the dough

1/4 cup water, warmed, not hot

1 package active dry yeast (just shy of 1 tablespoon)

1 cup milk

1/2 cup unsalted butter (1 stick)

1/2 cup sugar

1 15-ounce can pumpkin puree

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

5 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

For the filling

1/2 cup unsalted butter (1 stick)

1 cup packed dark brown sugar

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1 1/2 cups toasted pecans, chopped and divided

For the icing

1/4 cup melted butter

1/2 cup milk

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1 cup brown sugar

2 to 2 1/2 cups powdered sugar (I don't like the taste of powdered sugar, so I try to get away with using as little as possible)

Pinch of salt

1.  Mix the yeast, warm water, and a pinch of sugar in a small bowl, and set aside. Mixture will become foamy if years ts alive and ready to rise.

2.  Warm the butter and milk in a small saucepan until butter is melted.  Combine in a very large bowl with sugar and stir until sugar is dissolved.  Let the mixture cool somewhat until it is just warm (as opposed to piping hot), then stir in your foamy yeast mixture and the pumpkin.  Add the salt and five cups of flour, stirring until the flour is well-incorporated.  The dough should come together in a shaggy ball, but if it still feels moist, add the remaining half-cup of flour (I did).

3.  Cover the dough with plastic wrap and let it rise in a warm, dry place for one to three hours; it should double in size.  Then gently deflate it by pressing two fingers into the top, cover it again, and pop it in the fridge overnight for up to eight hours.  If you'd rather bake the dough right away, deflate it and begin shaping instead of refrigerating overnight.

4.  To shape the rolls, shake some flour onto a large work surface.  Dump the dough out, pat it into a rectangle, and use a well-floured rolling pin to push it into a rectangle that's about 1.5 inches thick, and longer than it is wide (mine ended up being about 20 inches by five inches).  To make the filling, mix the melted butter, milk, sugar, and spices in a medium bowl.  Pour the filling onto your dough rectangle, and spread it around evenly, leaving a half-inch border. Sprinkle one cup of the toasted pecans on top.  Working long-ways, roll the dough into a cylinder and pinch it closed at the top. Using a sharp knife or bench cutter, cut cylinder into rolls about 1.5 to two inches thick.  Arrange them side by side in a few buttered caked pans, cover, and allow them to rise until they look puffy, about 30 minutes.

5. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.  When the rolls have puffed and are all squished together, bake them for 20 to 25 minutes until golden.  Rotate the pan halfway through baking.  Meanwhile, make the glaze by heating the butter, milk, and brown sugar in a medium saucepan until sugar is dissolved.  Remove from heat, and sift in the powdered sugar; blend thoroughly with a fork. You now have pourable, awesome glaze. 

5.  When the rolls are golden, remove from the oven. Pour on the glaze and the remaining chopped pecans.  These are best if eaten immediately, but will keep for a day, covered. 

Buttermilk Cake Doughnuts (with Cinnamon, Sugar, and Cardamom)

I have been craving doughnuts for roughly two years.  Sure, I eat doughnuts in Maine every summer, and yes, I ate that crumb doughnut from a corner shop in Portland, Oregon not too long ago, but I had been drinking then, and it was a yeast doughnut, so it doesn't really count. Southern California is all kinds of famous among Californians for being the mecca for sprinkle-drenched cake doughnuts, twisted maple doughnuts that are just this side of being too much (read: awesome), and apple-filled bear claws with crackled glaze that are actually too much, but my god, how could you resist? 

My sister is an east coast doughnuts denier who believes, as I do, that cake doughnuts (and popsicles for that matter) are the best when left to Southern California and its sugar trails that weave through gas stations and wander into corner lots by defunct copy stores and auto shops; the gritty doughnut is the legit doughnut. My mom, a flight attendant for 38 years and simultaneously a toy-store owner for approximately three, thought about cashing it all in to open a tiny doughnut shop that would focus exclusively on doughnut holes -- just the right size for people who needed a break from their day, she said. She also once scolded me for getting her a chocolate doughnut in the morning, asking, "Why would you ever want to dip that in your coffee? Old-fashioned is the best."

While I've got an insatiable, hereditary craving for deep-fried cake batter, I had neither found a favorite doughnut shop in DC, nor mustered the energy to make homemade doughnuts until last Saturday, after a long, dumb week and with a killer weekend ahead. I'm kicking myself for not having made doughnuts sooner! Don't  be daunted by the length of the recipe -- few things are better than fried cake, especially early on a Saturday morning. It's also entirely likely that your main squeeze will wake up and look at you as if you're made of magic when you slide a plate of fresh, hot doughnuts (beautiful words!) and a coffee press in front of him. 

Buttermilk Cake Doughnuts

Adapted from The Art of Baking by Karen DeMasco

DeMasco uses a KitchenAid mixer for this recipe, but I did the whole thing by hand.  I'll give you the by-hand version since it's less dish-intensive (read: more lazy and thus better for an early Saturday morning), but just note that she uses a KitchenAid with a paddle attachment beginning with step two. I shook my doughnuts with cinnamon, sugar, and cardamom, but there are lots of good glaze recipes hanging around the internet, and powdered sugar (oh man, or vanilla sugar! or maple syrup glaze!) would be great too. You can do no wrong.

3/4 cup buttermilk (or make your own with 3/4 c. milk + 1 1/2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar)

1 large egg

3 large egg yolks

1/3 cup grapeseed oil

3 3/4 cups cake flour, sifted, divided, plus more for dusting (I used all-purpose)

1 cup granulated sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoons nutmeg

1 teaspoon kosher salt

Zest of one lemon

Peanut oil for frying, enough to pour about two inches deep into your pan (about five cups for me)

1.  Whisk together the buttermilk, eggs, and oil in a small bowl.  Set aside.  In a large bowl, sift 1 3/4 cup of flour, the sugar, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and lemon zest.

2.  Using a fork (or egg beater or KitchenAid), blend the dry mixture just to evenly distribute the ingredients.  Slowly add the buttermilk mixture, and mix with your fork until just combined.  Use a rubber spatula to fold in the remaining two cups of flour. The dough will be very sticky.

3.  Plop the dough on to a floured sheet of parchment paper that's about 12" by 14".  Lightly dust the top of the dough with flour, cover with a second sheet of parchment paper the same size, and roll out dough into an oval 3/4" thick. Slide your dough baby into the fridge for about a half-hour, until dough is firm enough to cut.  Remove, peel off top parchment sheet, flour the sheet place dough on top, and then pull off and discard the second sheet of parchment. You should now have a slab of dough that moves freely along a well-floured piece of parchment.

4.  Using a floured three-inch doughnut cutter (I used a three-inch drinking glass and a bottle with a one-inch mouth for cutting out the center hole), cut your doughnuts as closely together as possible.  Place them and the holes on a cookie sheet sprayed lightly with oil.  You should get close to 13 doughnuts.  Rerolling scraps is not advised for the actual doughnuts, but I did it to make doughnut holes out of leftover dough and they worked just fine!  Slide the cookie sheet in the fridge for a half-hour.

5.  In a wide pot with high sides, pour your peanut oil so that it covers the bottom of the pan by about two inches.  Heat the oil on medium to 350 degrees F.  Working in batches of three, plop your doughnuts into the oil, and turn after about a 1 1/2 minutes, so that each doughnut cooks for three minutes.  Using a slotted spoon, transfer doughnuts to paper towels to soak up excess oil, and then shake them in a bag with your spice mixture (recipe follows).  Repeat for remaining dough, keeping an eye on the temperature of the oil. For doughnut holes, cook about a minute each, turning halfway through if you can.  Once drained and sugared, doughnuts will keep for about a day, but I recommend eating them the morning of.  Voila!

Cinnamon-Sugar-Cardamom Mixture

3/4 cup sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon cardamom

A little less than 1/8 teaspoon salt

1.  Pour ingredients into a plastic resealable bag, zip, and shake up to mix.  Once doughnuts have drained but while still hot, put them in the plastic bag and shake 'em up to distribute sugar and spices on both sides.  The same technique could be used for coating your doughnuts with powdered sugar or a different spice mix of your choosing. 

Caramelized Plum Galette

Two weekends ago I visited my sister in Pittsburgh, where among sisterly activities such as thrifting, eating corn fritters, and tallying the number of cicadas that Trout (cat) killed, we also had a dinner party of sorts.  I'm going to hijack the nuanced reason and say that it was a test drive for Olly Oxen Free, which is the secret cafe that I've been doing in Washington, DC (well, did once anyway).  The menu, was a simple savory tomato and thyme tart, an all greens and herbs salad with shallot vinaigrette, a super delish roasted chicken, our adopted and adapted recipe for truffled macaroni and cheese, sweet corn custard with blueberry compote, and a plum and apricot galette with an almond-y crust.  Oh and an assortment of bar drinks, especially red wine spritzahs and a seriously good Katie-made St. Germain cocktail.

The dinner was awesome, the kitchen only a mild disaster, and the food coma so very severe that we skipped the Night of a Thousand Bowies in favor of unzipping on the couch and listening to the addling 4:00 a.m. ramble of a well-meaning neighbor.  In addition to learning that truffle is best goddamn flavor I have ever put in my mouth, I also discovered that plum desserts are totally underrated and  fully delightful. I got zero pictures of the evening (well almost zero, here's an iPhone snap), but the macaroni and the plum galette were my favorite edible parts, so I tinkered with and recreated the dessert recipe last weekend.  What follows is a caramelized and more buttery (and more photogenic) version of the galette from Pittsburgh. Baby, it's pure late summer in a pie shell. 

All-Butter Pastry Dough
(Makes enough for two crusts)

2 sticks unsalted butter, very cold
1 cup ice water, divided
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt

1.  Read this if you want to get some good advice about pie crust. I'll throw in some of my own hints, but Deb has compiled some excellent suggestions about how to keep your dough cold and your crust flaky.  Start by cubing your butter into small, half-inch pieces.  Put these in the freezer while you ready the rest of the ingredients.  Measure one cup of water, add some ice cubes and set aside to chill.

2.  I use a food processor for my dough, but was making wonderful crusts with a pastry blender until very recently. If your kitchen is very warm, you might want to chill the bowl or the blade of the processor to ensure that it cuts rather than melts the butter. Add all of your dry ingredients to the bowl of the processor, and pulse once or twice to blend the mixture. Sprinkle the cubes of butter over the top, and blend in pulses about 15 times, or until some pieces of butter are the size of peas, and the rest resembles oatmeal.

3.  Dump the mixture into a chilled, shallow bowl, and drizzle a half-cup of the ice water (minus de cubes) over the top.  Using a rubber spatula, cut the moisture quickly into the dough, gathering it together as you do. If the dough is too dry, add more water 1 tablespoon at a time until the dough comes together in a shaggy mess. (Sidenote: I never use more than two or three additional tablespoons of water, and generally keep it to a half-cup anyway, but this all depends on the moisture and heat in your kitchen!) Knead the dough gently a few times to make it come together more, divide into two equal pieces, and wrap in plastic wrap.  Flatten into disks and store in the fridge for at least an hour, preferably longer.

4.  If not using all of the dough that day, it will keep in the fridge for up to a week, wrapped in an additional layer of plastic.

Plum Filling 
Freely adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques

Suzanne Goin's recipe is for a plum tarte tatin with puff pastry, but since I lack a cast iron pan and love galettes, I used her caramelizing technique and scaled back the filling to make this summery tart with a crust.  Do not be dissuaded by all the text -- this recipe is simple and delightful.

1 1/2 pounds of plums, or about 12 small (I used a combination of Italian, red, and black), sliced vertically and pitted
1/4 cup + 6 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon lemon zest, optional
Pinch salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 egg

1.  In a medium bowl, gently mix plums, quarter-cup sugar (or less if your plums are real sweet), pinch of salt, and zest if you're using. Allow to macerate for half-hour.

2.  Meanwhile, heat a large, flat skillet over medium heat for one minute.  Add butter and melt until foamy, then add the six tablespoons of white sugar, stirring quickly just to evenly distribute.  Over medium-low heat and swirling often, cook the mixture for about six minutes, or until it's the color of dark caramel.  Remove from heat and allow to cool for 20 minutes.  It will harden, but that's okay!

3.  Once the plums are finished macerating, drain the liquid.  Arrange the plums cut side down on your skillet and return stove to medium heat.  Cook the plums in the caramel for 20 minutes without stirring.  They'll release a lot of liquid and essentially stew in their own awesome juices.

4.  Allow to cool for an hour or two.  Then preheat the oven to 375 degrees F, and roll out one piece of dough to a 13-inch round and trim the edges so they're smooth (If it's hot in your kitchen, place the rolled-out dough onto the back of a cookie sheet and slide it into the freezer or fridge for ten to fifteen minutes to keep the butter from melting).  Slide your dough onto a sheet of parchment on the back of a cookie sheet. Maintaining a three-inch border of crust, arrange the plums cut side up in a tight concentric circle. Gently fold the edge of the dough over the fruit, pleating as you go.

5.  Brush pastry with the beaten egg and sprinkle with sugar if you wish.  Bake in the middle of the oven for 45 to 55 minutes, until pastry is deep golden brown and fruit is bubbling.  Allow to cool on cookie sheet for ten minutes, then eat it up or let it cool further on a cooling rack.  Whipped cream or ice cream would be excellent companions here.

Pine Nut Rosemary Cookies

Dudes, trust:  These cookies are the jam.  I have a friend who jokingly refers to them as "roasted chicken cookies" (I hope you're already sold) because rosemary is so elemental to oven meats, and another friend who started talking to me about pesto after he had them, but these aren't the unclassifiable troll child of a savory-sweet marriage that friendly jokes make them out to be -- these are an awesome cookie reinvention.  They're also a completely crossable bridge between savory and sweet, falling deliciously short of being overwhelmed by either flavor.  And as we know, savory-sweet land is, of course, the most addictive land of all.   

Bonus summer-awarded points for level of ease too!  While I am generally uninterested (disinterested?) by claims of ease in the kitchen, on this fifty-first day of heat above 98 degrees in the swampy wonderland that I call home, I'll grasp onto anything that minimizes my time in the kitchen.


Pine Nut Rosemary Cookies
Via Martha Stewart

I'd say these are pretty customizable too.  If you're not a fan of pine nuts, try hazelnuts and a pinch or so of cardamom instead of the rosemary, or maybe walnuts with thyme.  Lemon thyme is supposedly budding in everyone's backyards these days, and I think that could make a bright substitution for the rosemary.

1 tablespoon + 1/2 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
1/4 cup pine nuts,* toasted + extra for topping cookies
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger (remember, trust!)
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
10 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1 cup + 2 tablespoons granulated white sugar
2 tablespoons good-quality olive oil
3 tablespoons heavy cream (I used half-and-half)
1 large egg, lightly whisked
About two tablespoons raw or turbinado sugar for sanding

1.  Preheat oven to 325 degrees F., and line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.  Finely chop rosemary some more in a food processor. Add pine nuts, and pulse until coarsely ground, about like the consistency of coarse corn meal. Transfer to a large bowl; whisk in two cups of the flour, baking soda, ginger, and salt, and set aside.

2.  In another large bowl, cream butter with white sugar on high until light and fluffy, two to three minutes (may take less time if your kitchen is of hellish temperature). Slowly mix in oil. Reduce speed to low. Mix in flour mixture in three increments, and then add cream. Using a fork, mix until well combined.  Mix in egg, then final 1/4 cup of flour.

3.  Using a 1 1/2-tablespoon ice cream scoop, scoop balls of dough onto cookie sheets, leaving at least an inch between each mount. Very slightly flatten tops, top each with a pine nut or two, and then shake some raw sugar on there.

4. Rotating halfway through, bake cookies until edges are golden, about 13 minutes.  Let cool on sheets for ten minutes, and then transfer to wire racks to let cool completely. Cookies are best if eaten the same day, though they'll be fine for a day if store in an airtight container.

* Moment of Science:  Instances of "pine mouth" have reportedly been on the rise in recent years, so to avoid turning your mouth into a piney wonderland, be sure to use pine nuts that are neither rancid nor imported from China. Thems the rules.

Summertime Strawberry Mascarpone Tart with Chocolate Cookie Crust

This has been a dreamy-as-fuck summer.  I was feeling a little snarky when I started writing this, as recent experiences with aggressive basil-plant death, terrible things happening to a hazelnut-cardamom-tartlet experiment, and a traveling Joey and faraway Molly had left me feeling a little crotchety, but then I remembered how I recently learned that the Potomac is home to four-foot long water snakes and probably water moccasins too (awesome), and that if someone hollers at you to shout the name of a state capital when you're swinging off a tree, you might possibly shout back "Maryland!" but no one will hold it against you. 

Multiply that by a bunch of seriously good-times trips to Maine, Seattle, Portland, and Richmond and a perpetual marathon of beer, bikes, and dance parties, and well, it's no wonder I've totally been cheating on this blog with summertime and instant ramen. Let me make it up to us though: This recipe is shamefully easy and it's practically no-bake! It's a take on last year's nectarine tart (You should click that. I use the phrase "fickle produce mistress."), adapted since the strawberries in Maine are baby jewels of awesome. If you're like me and have been completely underusing your farmers' market's supply of berries and stone fruit this summer, then this is an excellent recipe for getting back into the rhythm of fruity dessert accountability (for you and me both); it would be equally and possibly more awesome with gingersnap crust and blackberries drizzled with honey on top. Get yr summer on. 

Strawberry Mascarpone Tart 

Adapted from SmittenKitchen

Crust
About 3 1/2 cups of crushed chocolate cookies
7 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted 

2 tablespoons brown sugar, or more, if you prefer a sweeter crust

Filling
1 8-ounce container mascarpone cheese
6 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Topping
1 quart of the tiniest strawberries around, with their tops cut off
1/4 cup strawberry jam, warmed (I skipped this, it felt cheap)

For crust: Preheat oven to 350°F. Finely grind cookies and sugar in food processor. Add melted butter and pulse on and off until crumbs are evenly moistened. Press mixture over bottom and up sides of 10-inch-diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Bake crust until color darkens, pressing sides with back of spoon if beginning to slide, about eight minutes. Cool completely.

For filling: Beat first six ingredients in medium bowl until smooth.  You can make this ahead and keep refrigerated for up to one day, or proceed and spread filling in prepared crust. Cover loosely and refrigerate at least two hours and up to one day.

For topping:  Place hulled strawberries bottom up across your filling. Alternatively, you can cut the berries into thin slices and fan them across the top. Brush with jam if you're using. Serve, or cover loosely with plastic wrap and refrigerate for up to six hours. (We actually had leftovers for about two days and they kept okay, but the crust gets soggy and the fruit degrades after about a day, so this is definitely best if eaten in the same day.)

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Butter: Rustic Blueberry Cornmeal Tart

I don't know that I've ever given the Fourth of July its due.  Maybe it's because I gave in to the misguided undergraduate angst at my university, or confused orginality with being anti-patriotism, or maybe I just totally feared incurable dorkdom, but for the majority of my post-adolescent years (few though there are), I have celebrated Fourth of July among friends with comical irony and among family with only hesitant sincerity.  How so very trite of me!  And with so much pie and sparklers to be had?  I'm glad I finally got a clue.

Other awesome things about the Fourth of July include going to Belgrade Lakes, Maine with my family every year and generally hamming it up while also fishing, grilling, eating lobster, perusing antique stores, wearing matching plaid button-downs, getting daily homemade old-fashioned donuts from the general store, and of course, lounging on the dock with slices of pie on our bellies and beers in our hands.  Last year, my dad decapitated a two-inch long spider with a seven-inch long hunting knife, and my mom and I went canoeing on Sundays to go to the farmers' market and bring home berries and breakfast.  Granted, these things don't all occur on the Fourth, but I'm grateful for the occasion and the excuse to get together with my favorite people and eat butter as a family. 

Rustic Blueberry Cornmeal Tarts

Adapted from The Craft of Baking by Karen Demasco
Since I was so into the strawberry rhubarb tarts from a few weeks back, I tried to swap some corn flour into this crust recipe. The results were good, if slightly too tender, but I so love the flavor of corn that I had to try it. The original and my adaptation are provided below.

For the crust
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons buttermilk (or make your own:  add 1/2 teaspoon white vinegar to 2 tablespoons of milk, stir, and allow to curdle for ten minutes)
1/4 + 1/8 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 cup finely ground corn meal
3/4 cups all-purpose flour*
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 egg for brushing the crust

*If you'd like, use 1/4 cup corn flour and 1/2 cup all-purpose flour instead.

For the filling
3 cups fresh blueberries (or a 15 oz. package of frozen**)
1/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour, plus extra for rolling
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 to 2 tablespoons Turbinando sugar

**If using frozen berries, mix the berries, sugar, flour, and lemon juice in a bowl and allow to come to room temperature. This will help improve the flavors and allow the juices to thicken. Also add a second tablespoon of flour since frozen berries tend to have more juice than fresh.

1.  In a large bowl, rub the butter and sugar between your fingers until it's evenly blended. Or, as Demasco suggests, use a KitchenAid with the paddle attachment for 30 seconds.  Add the buttermilk and vanilla, scraping down sides and mixing with a rubber spatula.

2.  In a small bowl, whisk corn meal, all-purpose flour, corn flour (if you're using it), and salt. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture, blending with your rubber spatula until well combined. Try not to over-stir. Flatten dough into a disk, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least an hour, or overnight.

3.  On a lightly flour sheet of parchment paper, roll chilled dough out into an 11-inch circle. Slice parchment with dough onto a cookie sheet and let rechill in the refrigerator for at least five minutes while you prepare the filling.

4.  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, toss berries, sugar, flour and lemon juice. Remove rechilled dough from fridge and mound berries in the center, leaving a four-inch border all the way around. Gently fold the edges of the dough up and over toward the berries, pleating for an even look, or folding casually for a rustic look. Work quickly, especially if your kitchen is hot, lest the crust become hard to work with. Slide tray back into the fridge for 20 minutes.

5. Whip the egg in a bowl until whites are fully incorporated. Once tart has chilled, brush the crust with the egg wash and then sprinkle Turbinando sugar over the crusts (and filling too if you wish). Bake for 40 minutes in the center of the oven, rotating once halfway through. Tart crust will be golden brown when finished baking. Remove to a cooling rack and serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream, ice cream, or creme fraiche. Since corn is fragile, this tart is best eaten the same day.

A Wedding and Forty-Eight Cupcakes (+ Yellow Cake)

I used to be on the fence about summertime in DC. Being from the desert and all, I developed what my boss calls a "tender California constitution" that leaves me absolutely enfeebled by the humidity. I had a killer summer last year anyway, but I was starting to feel languid last week when temperatures hit 100 and going to work felt like bicycling through a butterstick. This year, I've decided to run with it. I embarked upon my summer with a trip to Richmond to visit the very best of pals, and when not eating Cuban food or drinking iced coffee, we explored the neighborhood, hiked through the forest, and thrashed down the river, earning belly scrapes and having a ball with the best dog of all time. I made a new friend too, and I'm riding my post-Richmond high all the way to Maine on Friday, followed by Texas and Seattle, and back to North Carolina and Pittsburgh in late July, just time to revel in the peak of east coast heat. 

So I've recently vacated my perch to plant myself on the pro-summer side of the fence, which, in addition to unholy heat, boasts baseball, swimming holes, piles of fruit pies, IPAs, citronella, Arsenal Park Olympics, and no time to wait for autumn. And then there are the weddings! Summer has also brought a slew of weddings, and for one of these, I was hired (hired!) to bake four dozen cupcakes for a small Friday-night reception. I'll soon get to the fruit pies (and their buttery, flaky, and possibly cream cheesy crusts), but for the mo' I want to delight in the floor-to-ceiling pile of dishes and frosted floors that begot my first wedding project, one dozen each of:  carrot cake with maple cream cheese frosting and cinnamon flecks, rich chocolate cake with vanilla-marshmallow frosting, my favorite yellow cake with bittersweet chocolate buttercream, and vegan dark chocolate cake with vegan chocolate buttercream. I realize that I posted this yellow cake recipe once before, but I did it such a sloppy disservice, that that's the recipe I'll post today. Happy summer y'all.

Yellow Cake Cupcakes

Adapted from Sky High: Irresistible Triple-Layer Cakes by Alisa Huntsman

This recipe makes exactly 18 cupcakes. The quantities might strike you as impractical, but they are they way they are because I've halved this recipe from a triple-layer cake recipe. The original quantities are available here. 

1 1/2 cups + 6 tablespoons cake flour (all-purpose is fine)

1 1/4 cups granulated sugar

2 3/4 teaspoons + 1/8 teaspoon baking powder (or, one scant tablespoon)

1 1/4 sticks (ten tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature

3/4 cups + 2 1/2 teaspoons buttermilk

2 1/2 whole eggs

1 egg yolk

1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract

1.  Preheat over to 325 degrees F. Spray two cupcake tins lightly with cooking oil and line with cupcake liners.

2. In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt; stir with a fork to combine. Using an electric mixer on low speed, mix butter and 3/4 cup buttermilk to briefly blend; then increase the speed to medium and blend for two to three minutes, until fluffy.

3.  In a smaller bowl, whisk together the eggs, remaining buttermilk, and vanilla extract. Pour one-third of the egg mixture into the flour mixture at a time, folding it in completely with a rubber spatula after each addition. Divide the batter between the cupcake tins, filling each bowl about three-fourths full.  Bake for 15-20 minutes (mine were finished at 18), or until a wooden toothpick inserted into the centers comes out clean.

4.  Allow the cakes to cool in the pans for ten minutes before gently twisting them out of the pans and allowing them to cool completely on wire racks. Proceed with the frosting recipe that follows, or consult a different one!

Bittersweet Chocolate Buttercream

This makes a little more than enough to pipe the frosting onto cupcakes, about 2 1/2 cups. You'll need less if you plan to spread it instead.

7 ounces bittersweet chocolate (I used Ghiradelli)

1 cup heavy cream

1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature

1.  Melt the chocolate with the cream in a double boiler set over barely simmering water. Whisk to blend well. Remove from heat and let stand, whisking occasionally, until the chocolate has thickened to the consistency of mayonnaise (this might be tough if your house is particularly hot -- a stint in the fridge could help).

2.  Place the butter in a large mixing bowl and whip on medium-high speed with an electric mixer until light and fluffy, one to two minutes. Add the chocolate cream and beat until lighter in color and somewhat stiff, about three minutes. Do not overwhip, or your frosting might separate. Pipe away!

Rustic Rhubarb Tarts

Two weeks ago, I took my first foray down to Wolf Trap National Park in Virginia to see Prairie Home Companion (and Gillian Welch!) with some near and dear friends. While I've only been to a handful of outdoor performance spaces (and never to The Gorge), I can say with some confidence that Wolf Trap is remarkable, especially when it's blazing sunshine and you've just come from an indoor picnic and possibly maybe a beer-chugging session. We watched the radio show (what a concept!) in the Filene Center, which is ten stories of dizzying carpentry set in the middle of an expanse of lawn for picnickers.  Our troupe had planned to picnic along with everyone else, but when thunderstorms (that never materialized) threatened to close in, we relocated to Tory and Joey's house to potluck, drink (Dogfish Head Immort Ale), and of course, eat dessert.

My obsession with Kim Boyce's new cookbook still hasn't relented, so when I finally got to the farmers market early enough to pick and choose my produce, her corn flour rhubarb tarts became the obvious choice for a Saturday baking endeavor.  While I've managed to acquire some obscure flours for her recipes, I still can't find the dried hibiscus flowers this one calls for, so I altered the rhubarb compote and made it with strawberries instead. Call me boring, but this dessert is anything but, and while the free-form pastry dough can be slightly troubling on a sweltering day, this is still a simple, beautiful, spring or summer tart.

Rustic (Strawberry) Rhubarb Tarts

Adapted from Kim Boyce's Good to the Grain:  Baking with Whole-Grain Flours

Her full recipe makes ten tarts.  I made the full pastry recipe, but only made six tarts, and cut the compote recipe in half because I didn't purchase enough rhubarb.  From the leftover pastry, I made ten thumbprint cookies dolloped with the remaining compote.  The tarts cook for 35 minutes, and  my cookies were finished after 18.  You can follow what I did, or scale back the pastry by half, or better yet, pick up a copy of Kim's book and get her original recipe. 

For the pastry (full recipe)

1 cup corn flour (I used Bob's Red Mill)

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 cup fine cornmeal 

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon Kosher salt

1 stick (four ounces) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons heavy cream

2 egg yolks

1.  Combine dry ingredients in a food processor.  Add the butter and process in short pulses, until mixture resembles coarse corn meal.  Add the heavy cream and egg yolks, and pulse until combined.  Don't overmix here; the dough will look crumbly, but it will come together when kneaded.  You can also do this all by hand, just by rubbing the butter into the flour with your fingertips until it reaches that same corn meal consistency.

2.  Divide the dough into ten equal pieces.  Lightly flour a work surface and, using the heel of your hand, flatten a piece of dough into a rough circle.  Continue flattening until it's approximately five inches in diameter (or, I found, even a little larger).  Try to work quickly so that the dough doesn't get too soft.  For a more elegant edge, Boyce recommends flattening the outer edge with your fingertips, making it thinner than the rest.

3.  Spoon three tablespoons of the strawberry rhubarb compote (recipe below) into the center of the dough (Boyce calls for four tablespoons, but based on advice from SmittenKitchen and my own observations, I went with three).  Fold the dough into the center of the tart and up, to make a ruffled edge; continue all the way around until you've achieved your rustic aesthetic. Slide a bench scraper or metal spatula under the pastry and place on a parchment-covered cookie sheet.  Continue with the rest of the dough.  Freeze the tarts for at least an hour, or up to two weeks if wrapped tightly in plastic.

4.  In an oven preheated to 375 degrees Fahrenheit, bake the tarts, still frozen, for about 35 minutes or until the edges are golden and the compote is bubbling and thick.  Serve warm or at room temperature.  The tarts keep in an airtight container for up to two days (but they probably won't last that long). 

For the Strawberry Rhubarb Compote (half recipe)

Again, Boyce makes Rhubarb Hibiscus compote. I'm still trying to get my hands on some hibiscus flowers, which I bet are fully excellent (Lottie and Doof says so too).

1 pound strawberries, rinsed and hulled

1 pound rhubarb stalks, de-leafed

3/4 cup dark brown sugar, packed 

1 teaspoon fresh lemon zest + 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1.  Rinse rhubarb stalks and trim very ends.  Cut in half lengthwise and cut stalks on the diagonal into 3/4-inch pieces (You should have about 3 cups).   Cut the strawberries lengthwise into quarters (You should have about 3 cups).

2.  Leaving three-quarters cup of the rhubarb aside, combine rhubarb and brown sugar in a heavy-bottomed pot.  Add the sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest, and turn the heat to medium low.  Cook, covered, for 15 minutes until the rhubarb has released its juices and your kitchen smells awesome.  Add the strawberries, increase heat to medium, and cook, uncovered now, for another 15 to 20 minutes, or until the compote is fairly thick and a metal spoon leaves a trail at the bottom of the pan.  Watch the mixture closely so it doesn't burn.

3.  Remove from heat, toss in the remaining rhubarb.  Spread compote on a cold plate or baking pan and allow to cool and thicken for about a half hour, then proceed with filling the tarts. Remaining compote keeps covered in the fridge for about a week, and is awesome mixed into yogurt, ricotta, or on toast.