Showing posts with label rhubarb ginger jam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rhubarb ginger jam. Show all posts

May 2, 2013

Rhubarb Ginger Jammers from Dorie Greenspan




I like stuff that can endure a lot of mileage: the old-man boots that never leave my feet, the Bundt pans piled up in my kitchen, my relationship with my best friend, not my stupid ol’ smartphone (arguably the newest thing I own, let it be noted). These are all trusty things, sure, but they’re also versatile things that have been reliable and awesome forever and always through all sorts of stresses and contexts—they stand up over time. And this might not be revelatory, but that’s a quality I seek in most of what I consume, from clothes and books to podcasts and recipes. Especially recipes. Don’t get me wrong: I’m like a mockingbird to the shine of labor-intensive, one-time-only baking—birthday cakes are one of my favorite things to create, after all—but it’s the dependable, blank-canvass baked goods toward which I gravitate.
Which brings me, obviously, to these cookies. Dorie Greenspan calls them Jammers, and they’re part of her menu at Beurre and Sel, one of the many gluttonous reasons why a trip to New York is in order. I’ve made them before with apricot preserves and cardamom, with blueberry lemon verbena jam, and I’ll surely make them again with whatever summer throws my way. Round out the streusel with ground nuts, oats, or cornmeal, work some zest into the dough, swap in bourbon for the vanilla extract, brown the butter for either the cookie or the topping: this recipe can traipse through all sorts of treatments and will live up to its excellence each time. The version here is made with some more of that rhubarb ginger jam from last week’s brioche doughnut experience, and we polished off a solid 40 in a shameful two days. They were particularly delicious mid-afternoon on day two, with an iced creamy coffee and a sunny porch break. So use whatever sort of jam you’ve got on hand, or cook up a quick, thick compote if you’re so inclined, and mix it up with the toppings too—ground pistachios, buckwheat streusel, almond extract. You’ve got a lifetime of miles to look forward to with these babies, so hop to it!




Rhubarb Ginger Jammers
Recipe adapted from Dorie Greenspan, via Bon Appétit

Cookie Dough
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup powdered sugar, sifted
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
2 large egg yolks, room temperature
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour

Streusel and Filling
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
5 1/2 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup thick jam or compote, such as rhubarb ginger (recipe below)

1.  Using an electric mixer at medium speed, beat butter in a large bowl until smooth and creamy, about three minutes. Add both sugars and salt; beat until well blended, about one minute. Reduce speed to low; beat in egg yolks and vanilla. Add flour and mix just to combine. Dough will be soft and slightly sticky.

2.  Divide dough in half. Place each half between sheets of parchment or waxed paper. Flatten dough into disks. Working with one disk at a time, roll out dough, occasionally lifting paper on both sides for easy rolling, until 1/4 inches thick. Freeze dough in paper until firm, at least two hours. Do ahead: Dough can be made two days ahead. Cover and keep frozen.

3.  Meanwhile, make the streusel. Mix flour, sugar, and salt in a small mixing bowl. Using your fingertips, rub butter and vanilla into dry ingredients until no large lumps remain and butter is well incorporated. Streusel will be sandy and hold its shape when pressed between your fingers. Cover and chill. Do ahead: Streusel can be made two days ahead. Keep chilled.

4.  Arrange a rack in middle of oven; preheat to 350 degrees F. Using two-inch cookie cutter, cut out rounds of frozen dough from freezer. Place rounds in bottom of muffin cups and gently pat to flatten. Continue cutting frozen dough into rounds; gather scraps and repeat process of rolling out and cutting to make 34 rounds (I got more than 40). Cover muffin tins with foil and chill in freezer until dough is firm, about 30 minutes or up to two days.

5.  Spoon about one teaspoon jam into the center of each round of dough. Using your fingers or a small spoon, sprinkle one to 1.5 tablespoons streusel around edges of each cookie, trying not to get any in the jam.

6.  Bake cookies, in batches if needed, until sides and streusel are golden, 20-22 minutes. Let cool in tins for 15 minutes. Run a small knife around edges of muffin cups; gently remove cookies and let cool completely on a wire rack. Store in airtight container at room temperature; will keep crisped texture for about three days. 

Rhubarb + Ginger Jam
Makes about a pint

1 pound rhubarb stalks (pink if you got ‘em)
1 to 1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
2-inch knob of ginger, peeled and grated (about two heaping tablespoons)
Zest and juice of half a lemon

1. Trim the rhubarb and chop it into one-inch pieces. In a medium bowl, toss rhubarb with the lesser amount of sugar, grated ginger, and lemon juice and zest. Let sit for at least two hours, stirring two or three times, until rhubarb has let off its juices; you can also cover and let the rhubarb do its thing in the fridge overnight. Ultimately, the mixture should get really juicy.

2. Pour the rhubarb mixture and juices into a medium saucepan. Bring to boil to and stir to dissolve the sugar, then allow to rapid-boil for about 15 minutes; the stalks will completely break down and the mixture will thicken up quite a bit. Keep an eye on it though so as not to burn. Taste, and if you prefer a slightly sweeter jam, add the remaining quarter-cup sugar and stir to dissolve. Remove jam from heat and allow to cool—it will thicken as it does—or fill sterilized jars and process accordingly. We just filled one big ol’ jar and are keeping it in the fridge instead of storing.

April 15, 2013

Cinnamon and Sugar Brioche Doughnuts + Rhubarb Ginger Jam


On the subject of the Down East breakfast, Maine poet and professor Robert P. T. Coffin wrote in 1949 that “weather, mother of good poetry, is also mother of good breakfasts. The bitter cold necessitated the bulletproof morning meals that helped farmers and fishermen sustain themselves through the day so that they never blew away. It was a six- or seven-part spread, overwhelmed by chunks of salt pork and sandwiched by red-hot, scalding tea—the whisky of the north—that put whiskers on the soles of your feet. A proper breakfast must, he repeated, stay put and generate heat. It must have rich, fattened, and oiled doughnuts to it, heavy pies, and pancakes, to keep the stomach busy, to keep the blood away from a man’s brain, where it can only do mischief, to keep his blood in his arms and thighs where a good woodchopper’s or smelt-fisherman’s blood belongs...The Maine breakfast is a hefty meal for hefty he-men.”*



Pronoun troubles aside, Coffin was right: big, rib-sticking breakfasts are a staple up here. Even at dawn, everything tastes better with links of maple sausage on the side, and a hunk of toast with butter-fried eggs is never far behind. We don't wrap our breakfasts in seven flapjacks, eat sinewy, jellied hog’s-head cheese, or chase the meal with five quarters of sweet pie, as Coffin contends that strong Maine farmers do, but we do cook up great big pans of hash browns, drink steins of bitter black coffee, and fry handfuls of fattened doughnuts rather often. The weather is responsible? Then so be it.

Whether you're Down East or not, don’t miss out on either this jam or these doughnuts. The jam, now one of my favorites ever made or eaten—what genius first put ginger with rhubarb anyway!?—is a cheery complement to these ludicrously buttery but barely sweetened brioche doughnuts. I shook them in cinnamon and sugar to add an extra element of warmth, but plain old-fashioned or a dusting of cardamom wouldn’t be at all out of place. We ended up having them with sausage, granola, and yogurt, so not quite Coffin’s lumberjack and lobsterman prescription, but certainly a mighty-fine and rightly affirming way to start the day.


And a quick note to thank everyone for the kind feedback on last week’s baby goat midwife post! I've sneaked in a few photos of them enjoying their own Down East breakfast below.

Brioche Doughnuts
Adapted from Karen DeMasco, The Craft of Baking
Makes about 12 doughnuts and 20 holes

Doughnuts, previously: Another Karen DeMasco classic.

This is the most buttery doughnut dough I've ever used, and it has a super excellent flavor. To make the frying process as smooth as can be, have your cooking station set up before you fry: timer, paper towels, cinnamon-sugar bowl, and serving tray.

2 1/2 cups high-gluten bread flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon Kosher salt (I used Diamond; use less if using Morton)
2 1/4 teaspoons (1/4 ounce or 1 packet) active dry yeast
6 large eggs
3 sticks (12 ounces) unsalted butter, chilled and cut into one-inch pieces
Peanut oil for frying
1/2 cup granulated sugar + 1 teaspoon cinnamon + pinch salt for tossing, optional

1. Sift flour, sugar, and salt into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook attachment. Mix a few times to blend.

2. Set a saucepan of water to boil on the stove. In a heat-proof bowl, whisk the six eggs with the yeast, and place over the boiling water, whisking continuously for about a minute, or until the eggs are just warm to the touch. Add the egg-yeast mixture to the flour bowl, and mix on medium for about four minutes, until the mixture starts to resemble more of a dough.

3. With the mixer still running, add the pieces of butter quickly, but one at a time, then allow machine to run until no visible pieces of butter remain. (This took our old-ish mixer about eight minutes.) Turn dough out onto a lightly floured counter, and knead for about five minutes, until dough is tighter. A word of caution that the dough will be very sticky and loose. Try to resist the temptation to add more flour.

4. Place dough in a clean, well-oiled bowl, cover with plastic or a damp dishtowel and allow to rise for two hours. Fold the dough over itself, cover again, and allow to rise in the fridge at least six hours or overnight.

5. The next morning, toss dough out onto a lightly floured surface, and roll into a rectangle about three-fourths of an inch thick. Using a three-inch round and one-inch center, cut doughnuts out of the dough; cut holes out of remaining dough, and do not reroll scraps. Place cut doughnuts on cookie sheet or cutting board lined with parchment, cover, and allow to puff up over the next 30 minutes.

6. In a wide, shallow pan, heat peanut oil to 350 degrees F; do your best to maintain this oil temperature throughout. Cook one test doughnut about 1.5 minutes per side, then drain on paper towels. Cut it open to ensure the center is cooked, and adjust your fry time accordingly; it works well to fry three at a time. Doughnut holes take about a minute to cook through; it worked fine to fry five or six at a time. Blot the doughnuts and toss in the cinnamon-sugar mixture while they're still warm. Serve with a few spoonfuls of rhubarb-ginger jam. Doughnuts are best the morning they’re made!

Rhubarb + Ginger Jam
Makes about a pint

Good on toast, great in yogurt, mighty-fine served alongside a doughnut. What's not to love?!

1 pound rhubarb stalks (pink if you got ‘em)
1 to 1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
2-inch knob of ginger, peeled and grated (about two heaping tablespoons)
Zest and juice of half a lemon

1. Trim the rhubarb and chop it into one-inch pieces. In a medium bowl, toss rhubarb with the lesser amount of sugar, grated ginger, and lemon juice and zest. Let sit for at least two hours, stirring two or three times, until rhubarb has let off its juices; you can also cover and let the rhubarb do its thing in the fridge overnight. Ultimately, the mixture should get really juicy.

2. Pour the rhubarb mixture and juices into a medium saucepan. Bring to boil to and stir to dissolve the sugar, then allow to rapid-boil for about 15 minutes; the stalks will completely break down and the mixture will thicken up quite a bit. Keep an eye on it though so as not to burn. Taste, and if you prefer a slightly sweeter jam, add the remaining quarter-cup sugar and stir to dissolve. Remove jam from heat and allow to cool—it will thicken as it does—or fill sterilized jars and process accordingly. We just filled one big ol’ jar and are keeping it in the fridge instead of storing.

*Robert P. Coffin, "Down East Breakfast," in Endless Feasts, ed. Ruth Reichl (New York: Condé Nast Publications Inc., 2002), 123–129.