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.

Tourteau de Chevre with Grapefruit Honey Sorbet

I'm packin' it in, y'all. After nearly four years at my job as the senior editor for an awesome and essential civil rights group, and after being in DC for the same most excellent, challenging, and straight-up real period of time, I'm headed up to Maine to learn how to make goat cheese and acquire some serious business skills. I have two months left at my job -- very advanced notice, I know -- before putting myself out to pasture at a 100-acre goat farm in central Maine, a little bit north of Bangor. I'll be there until the end of the season, milking goats, making cheese, doing untold numbers of farm chores, and helping manage a farmers market or two, all in the name of learning about business and putting my food and field chops to the test.

Maybe I'll come back to DC with a little more forward momentum toward starting a business, or maybe I'll stay up there or go somewhere else to continue learning about farming and the like for a second season. I've had thoughts of making the most of some of my work connections to get into screenwriting and deeper into production, I still think about going to library school, and I also dream about doing public engagement work for a museum or arts organization. I also have no idea whether this stint will lead me back, long sigh, to the predictability of my cubicle -- yes, the path is clear for this one. All the same, I am very pumped!

I guess this is a little contrived, but bear with me and pretend it's sorta cute that I'm sharing this tourteau de chevre in honor of my goat cheesy celebration. Joey nailed it when he called this a cross between a cheese cake and an angel food cake. It's lighter than it looks -- a drier cheese cake with a pretty light goat cheese taste all within a sweetened pastry crust. Lottie + Doof served his with grape sorbet, but after Joey and I had a killer goat cheese panna cotta with grapefruit in North Carolina the other day, we had to try it with this grapefruit honey sorbet. The combination might seem like a mismatch, but it's totally delicious. Even so, Bobbie ate this with caramel, Joey topped it with maple syrup, I had it drizzled with honey, and we all agreed that spicy blackberry syrup would have been a nice topper too.

Besides, if your farmers markets are anything like ours right now -- that is to say, barely open -- then you could consider this a great, nonfussy dessert for the transition to spring. It will pair well with whatever fruit you have available, plus it's equally good with wine, beer, or coffee. Joey had it for breakfast too, but that's more a quality of his than a quality of the cake's. I hope you enjoy!

Tourteau de Chevre

Adapted from Lottie + Doof

I had to make this in a 9-inch pan because I couldn't find my 8-inch, so it's not as tall and glorious as Tim's was. The instructions below are for an 8-inch pan, but if yours is missing too, just roll the crust out to about 1.5 inches larger than called for and start checking to see if it's finished between 25 and 30 minutes into the second round of baking.

Tart Dough (see below)
5 large eggs, separated, at room temperature
Pinch of salt
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
9 ounces soft goat cheese
3 tablespoons cornstarch
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1. Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Generously butter an 8-inch springform pan.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out into a circle that’s about 10 1/2 inches in diameter. Fit the dough into the springform pan, pressing it against the bottom and about halfway up the sides. Don't worry if dough pleats and folds on itself; do your best to smooth it out and don't worry about being perfect. Put the springform in the fridge while you make the filling.

3. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or in a large bowl with a hand mixer, whip the egg whites with the salt until they start to form soft peaks. Still whipping, gradually add 2 tablespoons of the sugar, and beat until the whites hold firm, but still glossy peaks. If the whites are in the bowl of your stand mixer, transfer them gently to another bowl.

4. With the mixer—use the paddle attachment now—beat the egg yolks, goat cheese, the remaining 1/2 cup sugar, the cornstarch, and vanilla until very smooth and creamy, about a minute or two. Switch to a rubber spatula and stir one quarter of the whites into the mixture to lighten it, then gently fold in the rest of the whites. Scrape the batter into the crust and put the springform on the lined baking sheet.

5. Bake for 15 minutes, then turn the oven temperature down to 350 degrees F. Continue to bake for about 30 to 35 minutes more, or until the top, which will have cracked, is dark brown and firm; a thin knife inserted into the center of the cake should come out clean. Transfer the pan to a cooling rack and let the tourteau rest for 10 minutes. Carefully remove the sides of the springform. Cool the cake completely to room temperature before serving. It will deflate as it cools. Cake will keep covered in the fridge for about one week. I actually thought it tasted better the second day after a night in the fridge, but I leave that up to you!

Tart Dough
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons very cold unsalted butter, cut into bits
1 large egg
1 teaspoon ice water

1. Put the flour, sugar, and salt in the processor and whir a few times to blend. Scatter the butter over the flour and pulse several times to blend. Then pulse until the butter is coarsely mixed into the flour, with texture ranging from small peas to oatmeal flakes. Beat the egg with the ice water and pour it into the bowl in 3 small additions, whirring after each one. The food process will change its sound a little, grumbling at you and getting deeper. The dough should be moist and malleable, and com together when pinched. Turn the it out onto a work surface, gather into a ball, and flatten dough into a disk.

2. Chill the dough for at least three hours.

Grapefruit Honey Sorbet

Makes about three cups

2 cups fresh-pressed grapefruit juice

1 teaspoon grapefruit zest

1/4 cup cup + 2 tablespoons mild honey, or to taste

1. Whir the juice, zest, and honey in a food processor or blender until all evenly mixed and honey is dissolved, about one minute. Taste for balance; sorbet will taste pretty much how it does as juice. Chill for a few hours until mixture is very cold. Process according to ice cream manufacturer's instructions. Sorbet will keep covered for about a week. After that it gets pretty hard and icy, but won't lose flavor!

Grapefruit-Ginger Meringue Tart

As a Californian, I am compelled by my upbringing to love citrus (and avocados and Mexican food). Growing up in San Diego, I was lucky enough to be able to walk out the side door and into the orchard where the juiciest oranges, lemons, tangerines, and, randomly, grapefruits were ripe for the picking. Avocados too. The grapefruits hung from the neighbor’s tree, but as a kid I had no boundaries, and as an adult, those habits were hard to break (as if I even tried). I didn’t quite appreciate the extent of our bounty until I moved away, but even then my parents would pack up boxes of orchard oranges and flat-rate ship them to me, not because I didn’t have access to citrus, but mostly because their trees were actually bending under the weight of too much fruit and oranges were rotting on the ground. How totally unfortunate for them.

And then my parents moved away too. Now they live in a house with a smaller yard in central San Diego, with a little Charlie Brown orange tree out back that my sister gifted, and it’s been about a year since I’ve been up to my ears in backyard citrus. The dearth had been pretty much fine with me until Lottie + Doof retweeted a photo of an incredible-looking blood orange pie from Nightwood in Chicago, and BAM, love of citrus reignited. After several failed orangey desserts and a lot of grapefruit brulee, I read 101Cookbooks’s account of her many citrus curds (ugh, time to move home) and of course thought of lemon meringue.

I made this tart first for Pi(e) Day two weeks ago and then remade it more carefully last week when my pal Tory lent me her KitchenAid mixer in exchange for her ice cream maker, which I am also long-term borrowing. Then, my friend and Floridian counterpart Juanita left a huge basketful of grapefruits on the counter, which Emily promptly put to use in a grapefruit-ginger marmalade and a grapefruit white chocolate pie. There are even still a few left, and I’m thinking about making grapefruit tartlets with goat cheese because seriously, it sounds weird, but the combination is uh-mazing. Try this tart, with or without the meringue, and then send me your leftover citrus. I need it. Truly. But an avocado would suffice too.

Grapefruit-Ginger Meringue Tart

Inspired by 101Cookbooks's amazin' curd

I made this first with ginger juice and second by simmering coins of it -- which I liked better -- but either way it’s a light flavor, not too pronounced. If you want it to be gingery as all heck, then start with two tablespoons of ginger juice and increase from there, tasting as you go. And if you’re not a fan of meringue, try this tart with a stripe of powdered sugar on top. Let the tart cool in the fridge for about two hours, then just sift a stripe over the top and serve (instructions below).

For the Crust

9 ounces gingersnap cookies (about 35 li'l cookies), coarsely broken

6 tablespoons butter, melted

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Pulverize cookies in food processor. With motor running, pour in melted butter, and pulse until mixture is evenly moistened. Pour crumbs out into 8-inch tart part with removable bottom, and press firmly, evenly to the bottom and up the sides to form your crust. Bake for eight to ten minutes until crust has darkened ever so slightly. If crust falls at all, use the back of a spoon to push it back up the sides. Allow to cool while you work on curd.

For the Curd

1 ½ cups fresh-pressed grapefruit juice (I used CA pink grapefruits, of course)
2 inch knob of fresh ginger, peeled, cut into coins
2 large egg yolks (save whites for meringue)
2 large whole eggs
1 ½ cups water
⅓ cup cornstarch
¾ cup granulated sugar
⅛ teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temp.
1 teaspoon grapefruit zest

1.  In a medium saucepan, simmer grapefruit juice and ginger coins until juice is reduced to a half-cup. This will take about 30 minutes and helps strengthen the flavor of the grapefruit. Strain out ginger and set juice aside to cool. Crack your egg yolks and eggs into a separate medium bowl, blend gently, and set aside.

2.  Wipe out the medium saucepan you used earlier, and add cornstarch, sugar, and salt.  Gradually blend in the water. Bring to a boil over medium heat, whisking constantly. Continue mixing for two to three minutes until mixture has thickened.

3.  Get your bowl with the yolks and slowly add in the cooled grapefruit juice, whisking all the while. Then slowly add the thickened cornstarch mixture, continuing to whisk. Put this mixture back into the saucepan, reduce heat to low, add your five tablespoons of butter, and whisk gently while cooking for eight more minutes, until mixture is very thick. Remove from heat and stir in zest.

4.  Pour curd into gingersnap crust, press plastic wrap directly to the curd, and get to work on meringue. If skipping meringue, then don’t press plastic to the curd; allow curd to cool to room temperature then refrigerate tart, covered lightly with plastic, for about two hours.  Sift powdered sugar over the top and enjoy!

For the Meringue
5 egg whites, room temperature
1 ¼ cups granulated sugar

1.  Place oven rack in upper third of oven Place egg whites and sugar in the heatproof bowl of an electric mixer set over, but not touching, simmering water. Cook, whisking continuously, until mixture is warm to the touch, about three to five minutes. Transfer mixture to an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, and mix on high until very stiff peaks form.

2.  Place tart on baking sheet. Remove plastic wrap and spoon meringue over top of hot curd, anchoring to crust where possible, and embellishing peaks with a knife or rubber spatula. Broil until meringue is golden brown, about two minutes or so, depending on your oven. Keep your eye on the tart though as you don’t want the meringue to burn! Remove from oven, allow to cool to room temperature, and refrigerate for an hour or two, lightly covered in plastic. Tart will keep covered in the fridge for up to four days.