Joan's note: This is a fabulous holiday cake, best made
the day before serving so the flavors can ripen. Bonus: one less
thing to fuss with on event day.
Prep time: About 40 minutes hands-on (best made the night before (or at least the morning of) to let the cake soak up flavors)
Servings: The book says 8, but we often stretch it to 12-16 - just depends on how fat you slice it.
My variation on frosting preparation is footnoted - otherwise, this recipe is verbatim from the book.
1 fresh pound cake 9"long 3"wide
(plain or almond pound cake, made from the box)
1 pound ricotta cheese
2 tablespoons heavy cream
1/4 cup sugar
3 tablespoons Strega or other orange-flavor liqueur
3 tablespoons coarsely chopped mixed candied fruit
2 ounces semisweet chocolate -- coarsely chopped
For the frosting:
12 ounces semisweet chocolate -- cut in small pieces
3/4 cup strong black coffee
1/2 pound thoroughly chilled unsalted butter -- cut in 1/2" pieces
Directions for the cake:
With a sharp knife, slice the end crusts off the pound cake and
level the top if it is rounded. Cut cake horizontally into 1/2- to
3/4-inch thick slabs. With a wooden spoon or electric mmixer, beat the
ricotta cheese until smooth. Beating constantly, add cream, sugar and
Strega. With a spatula, fold in the chopped candied fruit and chocolate.
Center the bottom slab of cake on a flat plate; spread it generously
with the ricotta mixture. Carefully place another slab of cake on top,
keeping sides and ends even; spread more ricotta mixture. Repeat the
process until all the cake slabs and filling are used up, ending with a
plain slab of cake on top. Gently press the loaf together to make it as
compace as possible. Don't worry if it feels wobbly; chilling firms the
loaf. Refrigerate the Cassata for about 2 hours, or until the filling is
firm.
Directions for the frosting*:
Melt the 12 ounces of chocolate with the
coffee in a small heavy saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly
until chocolate is completely dissolved. Remove the pan from the heat
and beat in the chilled butter, 1 piece at a time.* Continue beating
until mixture is smooth. Chill frosting until it thickens to spsreading
consistency.
With a small metal spatula, spread frosting evenly over the top, sides
and ends of the chilled Cassata, swirling it as decoratively as
possible.
Cover frosted Cassata loosely with foil and chill at least 24
hours before serving it (this "ripens" the dessert).
NOTE: A pastry tube may be used to decorate the top of the cake with
buds, flowers, etc. if desired.
*Because the frosting ingredients are the same as another recipe I use, I happen to know that you can just melt the butter and chocolate together, add in the coffee, and then refrigerate it overnight - in the morning, shazaam - it's congealed into spreadable frosting. You're welcome.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Anchor Bar's buffalo chicken wings
So, this is the recipe I use for the Anchor Bar's buffalo chicken wings. Some post-er says it's not the real recipe. Whatever. It's the recipe I use. I've done them fried and baked. Both delish.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Mommy's creamed onions
2-3 jars boiling onions (I've also used 2 bags of frozen)
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 stick butter
3 Tbl flour
1 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
1/2 cup light cream
1 cup milk
paprika
almond slices
Boil onions and celery 10 minutes, or until soft. Drain and set aside in baking dish. In a sauce pan, melt butter. Add flour, salt and pepper. Stir until bubbly. Add cream and milk, and stir until bubbly again. Pour sauce over onions and gently mix. Sprinkle with paprika and almonds. Bake 20 minutes uncovered at 350 degrees.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
How Joan cooks Split Pea Soup
I always assumed, without ever trying it, that I didn't like Split Pea soup - then Tom gave me a taste of his and I fell in love. He has not (yet) given me his recipe, so this is the one I go by - I'm pretty loose with the measurements. Perhaps Tom will post his recipe...it's mighty tasty.
1 Tbs olive oil
1 medium onion
4 carrots
3 celery stalks
1 Tbs dried thyme
sea salt & pepper
1 can (14.5 oz) chicken broth
16 oz split peas, rinsed
ham bone (have the butcher crack it a couple of times)
5 cups water
Dregs from roast chicken (not required, see note at end of recipe)
Finely chop the veggies while you heat the oil in a large stockpot over medium heat. Add veg plus thyme; season with salt & pepper (just a pinch of pepper, and two pinches of salt for now - you'll season to taste later) and cook until veg (mainly the onion) soften (7-9 minutes). Add broth and stir any veg off the bottom of the stockpot; then add peas, ham and water. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer for 45 minutes. At 45 minutes, taste the soup - it probably needs some S&P, but before you add more S&P, take the ham bone out, trim/discard the fat/skin and bone, and dice up the meat - return meat to pot and simmer another 5-10 minutes. Now add S&P to taste. If your soup gets too thick, add a little water.
If you stop here, your soup will be fine. I like to eat it with a baguette or sprinkle garlic croutons on top. The soup keeps in the fridge nicely. Again, if it gets too thick, add a little water when you reheat it.
But, if the soup needs a little more depth - that's when I check the fridge for my jar of roast chicken dregs. You see, when I roast a chicken, I use the pan drippings to make gravy and save the carcass to make broth - but usually there are more drippings then I can use (about 4-8 oz), so I store it in the fridge in a glass jar where the fat rises to the top and forms a protective layer over the darker, more flavorful, gelatinous chicken dregs. Dregs are not to be confused with broth. Like I said, I do use the carcass to make broth, which also gets stored in a glass jar in the fridge. But if the split pea soup is missing some depth, then I poke through the fat layer and scoop out 1-2 Tbs of just the dark gelatinous dregs and mix it into the soup before I finish seasoning with salt & pepper.
1 Tbs olive oil
1 medium onion
4 carrots
3 celery stalks
1 Tbs dried thyme
sea salt & pepper
1 can (14.5 oz) chicken broth
16 oz split peas, rinsed
ham bone (have the butcher crack it a couple of times)
5 cups water
Dregs from roast chicken (not required, see note at end of recipe)
Finely chop the veggies while you heat the oil in a large stockpot over medium heat. Add veg plus thyme; season with salt & pepper (just a pinch of pepper, and two pinches of salt for now - you'll season to taste later) and cook until veg (mainly the onion) soften (7-9 minutes). Add broth and stir any veg off the bottom of the stockpot; then add peas, ham and water. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer for 45 minutes. At 45 minutes, taste the soup - it probably needs some S&P, but before you add more S&P, take the ham bone out, trim/discard the fat/skin and bone, and dice up the meat - return meat to pot and simmer another 5-10 minutes. Now add S&P to taste. If your soup gets too thick, add a little water.
If you stop here, your soup will be fine. I like to eat it with a baguette or sprinkle garlic croutons on top. The soup keeps in the fridge nicely. Again, if it gets too thick, add a little water when you reheat it.
But, if the soup needs a little more depth - that's when I check the fridge for my jar of roast chicken dregs. You see, when I roast a chicken, I use the pan drippings to make gravy and save the carcass to make broth - but usually there are more drippings then I can use (about 4-8 oz), so I store it in the fridge in a glass jar where the fat rises to the top and forms a protective layer over the darker, more flavorful, gelatinous chicken dregs. Dregs are not to be confused with broth. Like I said, I do use the carcass to make broth, which also gets stored in a glass jar in the fridge. But if the split pea soup is missing some depth, then I poke through the fat layer and scoop out 1-2 Tbs of just the dark gelatinous dregs and mix it into the soup before I finish seasoning with salt & pepper.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Chez Panisse, Tom's Review
Joan goes through the menu, but doesn't discuss the quality of the experience. As I am critical of my own work, so I shall be of theirs.
We were part of the first Friday night seating. The setting, the staff, and our fellow diners were terrific. It was very informal, with people having a better and better time as the night wore on. It was not one of those stuffy temples of food where we were expected to be overawed by virtue of being admitted to the place.
The Brandade de Morue was pretty inspid. Okay texture, not much flavor. Usually, it is prepared with a little garlic, but not in this instance.
I missed the point of the aperitif. It was sweet and seemed out of place. I did not drink it.
The eel salad was the highlight of the meal. Greens were great, properly dressed, eel was tasty and had good texture.
The pasta could have been perfect. It was garnished with fresh peas, and if all the peas had been the same size (and age, I'd guess) it would have been wonderful. As is was, a lot of the peas were very large and starchy, and since they were barely cooked (in deference to the small, sweet tender peas) it was almost like having an uncooked reconstituted legume in the salad. There were crisp, very thin squares of pancetta, which were excellent.
I love squab. But this was overcooked, for my taste, verging on livery.
The wine selections, we were told, came from someone at A16 who'd done some sort of tasting with the Chez Panisse staff earlier in the week. As Joan said, the first wine was delicious. It may have been Austrian rather than Italian, in any case it came from the hills between those nations. The remaining 2 wines were Italian, both from the area around Naples, and tasted for all the world (to me, anyway) like typical overpriced undistinguished California wines--it may as well have been a $25 Kendall-Jackson. Disappointing.
And because it was Friday, there was an extra course, and an extra cost. It was $95 per person, plus the wine, plus a 17% service charge.
Should one expect perfection for $150? Probably not. But everything than I found wrong that night was a result of poor preparation: First rate ingredients, generally well thought out dishes. But undercooked peas and overcooked squab? At the first seating? On a weekend night, when presumably the A team is in the kitchen?
I certainly have paid more for lesser dining experiences, but I really had expected more from Chez Panisse. I still find that, all things being equal, I care less about the pedigree of my peas and squabs than I do about how they taste.
We were part of the first Friday night seating. The setting, the staff, and our fellow diners were terrific. It was very informal, with people having a better and better time as the night wore on. It was not one of those stuffy temples of food where we were expected to be overawed by virtue of being admitted to the place.
The Brandade de Morue was pretty inspid. Okay texture, not much flavor. Usually, it is prepared with a little garlic, but not in this instance.
I missed the point of the aperitif. It was sweet and seemed out of place. I did not drink it.
The eel salad was the highlight of the meal. Greens were great, properly dressed, eel was tasty and had good texture.
The pasta could have been perfect. It was garnished with fresh peas, and if all the peas had been the same size (and age, I'd guess) it would have been wonderful. As is was, a lot of the peas were very large and starchy, and since they were barely cooked (in deference to the small, sweet tender peas) it was almost like having an uncooked reconstituted legume in the salad. There were crisp, very thin squares of pancetta, which were excellent.
I love squab. But this was overcooked, for my taste, verging on livery.
The wine selections, we were told, came from someone at A16 who'd done some sort of tasting with the Chez Panisse staff earlier in the week. As Joan said, the first wine was delicious. It may have been Austrian rather than Italian, in any case it came from the hills between those nations. The remaining 2 wines were Italian, both from the area around Naples, and tasted for all the world (to me, anyway) like typical overpriced undistinguished California wines--it may as well have been a $25 Kendall-Jackson. Disappointing.
And because it was Friday, there was an extra course, and an extra cost. It was $95 per person, plus the wine, plus a 17% service charge.
Should one expect perfection for $150? Probably not. But everything than I found wrong that night was a result of poor preparation: First rate ingredients, generally well thought out dishes. But undercooked peas and overcooked squab? At the first seating? On a weekend night, when presumably the A team is in the kitchen?
I certainly have paid more for lesser dining experiences, but I really had expected more from Chez Panisse. I still find that, all things being equal, I care less about the pedigree of my peas and squabs than I do about how they taste.
Pig and Prunes II
A similar recipe to the Pig and Prunes I, which came from Jacques Pepin. This calls for cream in the sauce, and is from Elizabeth David's French Provincial Cooking (1960).
"[This dish is not] exactly a light one, and is perhaps best eaten, as pork dishes are always supposed to be, at midday rather than in the evening."
6 to 8 noisettes of pork from the loin, about 3 oz each
1 pound large prunes (about 2 dozen)
1/2 bottle of wine, white, preferably Vouvray
1 T red currant jelly
1/2 pint of thick cream (you may not use it all)
2 ounces butter
Flour
Seasonings
Steep prunes with 1/2 pint of the wine, overnight or at least half a day. Cover and put in a very low oven for an hour or more, the longer the better as long as the wine does not dry up.
Season the pork with salt and pepper and dust with flour. Melt butter in large, heavy pan. Gently brown meat. Do not let the butter brown. After 10 minutes, add remaining wine. Cover and cook gently on stove top or in oven until done. (David says 45 minutes to an hour, depending on quality of the meat. Today's pork is, sadly, much leaner than that of 50 years ago, so beware of drying it out.)
When the meat is done, pour over the juices from the prunes. Keep the prunes hot in the oven. Let the juices bubble and reduce a little. Transfer the meat to a serving dish and keep hot.
Add the red currant jelly and stir to dissolve. Then add some of the cream. Allow it to bubble and thicken: Add more cream. When the sauce is shiny and really thick, pour over the meat, arrange the prunes around, and serve.
The amount of cream will depend on the amount of juices from the meat and prunes. If the sauce thickens too much, too quickly, add cream to thin.
David: "On the whole, I think is is better to drink red wine than white with this dish. And, of course, you do not serve any vegetables with it. Even with light first and last course dishes, 8 noisettes should be enough for four people.
"[This dish is not] exactly a light one, and is perhaps best eaten, as pork dishes are always supposed to be, at midday rather than in the evening."
6 to 8 noisettes of pork from the loin, about 3 oz each
1 pound large prunes (about 2 dozen)
1/2 bottle of wine, white, preferably Vouvray
1 T red currant jelly
1/2 pint of thick cream (you may not use it all)
2 ounces butter
Flour
Seasonings
Steep prunes with 1/2 pint of the wine, overnight or at least half a day. Cover and put in a very low oven for an hour or more, the longer the better as long as the wine does not dry up.
Season the pork with salt and pepper and dust with flour. Melt butter in large, heavy pan. Gently brown meat. Do not let the butter brown. After 10 minutes, add remaining wine. Cover and cook gently on stove top or in oven until done. (David says 45 minutes to an hour, depending on quality of the meat. Today's pork is, sadly, much leaner than that of 50 years ago, so beware of drying it out.)
When the meat is done, pour over the juices from the prunes. Keep the prunes hot in the oven. Let the juices bubble and reduce a little. Transfer the meat to a serving dish and keep hot.
Add the red currant jelly and stir to dissolve. Then add some of the cream. Allow it to bubble and thicken: Add more cream. When the sauce is shiny and really thick, pour over the meat, arrange the prunes around, and serve.
The amount of cream will depend on the amount of juices from the meat and prunes. If the sauce thickens too much, too quickly, add cream to thin.
David: "On the whole, I think is is better to drink red wine than white with this dish. And, of course, you do not serve any vegetables with it. Even with light first and last course dishes, 8 noisettes should be enough for four people.
Pig and Prunes
6 ounces (20 to 24) small pitted prunes
1/2 cup port
2 small pork tenderloins (20-24 oz)
1/2 t+ salt
1/4 t+ pepper
2-3 T vegetable oil
2 T minced shallots
3 T red wine vinegar
2/3 cup brown stock
1 T black currant jam
1 T ketchup
Parsley or basil for garnish
A couple hours before cooking, pour 2 cups boiling water over prunes and rehydrate for half an hour. Drain, and add port to the prunes.
Preheat oven to 200° F.
Slice each tenderloin into 6 pieces, of roughly 2 oz. Season with salt and pepper.
Heat oil in heavy frying or saute pan and sear meat over medium-high heat until well-browned on all sides. Remove meat to platter and place in oven.
Add shallots to pan and saute briefly. Add red wine vinegar and deglaze pan. Add stock, then port, then prunes. Bring to gentle boil and allow to reduce, 5 minutes, until slightly thickened.
Stir in jam and ketchup. Remove meat from oven and pour juices into sauce. Stir, simmer, taste and adjust seasoning. Sauce should be viscous and shiny.
Arrange prunes amongst pieces of pork and pour sauce over all. Garnish and serve.
1/2 cup port
2 small pork tenderloins (20-24 oz)
1/2 t+ salt
1/4 t+ pepper
2-3 T vegetable oil
2 T minced shallots
3 T red wine vinegar
2/3 cup brown stock
1 T black currant jam
1 T ketchup
Parsley or basil for garnish
A couple hours before cooking, pour 2 cups boiling water over prunes and rehydrate for half an hour. Drain, and add port to the prunes.
Preheat oven to 200° F.
Slice each tenderloin into 6 pieces, of roughly 2 oz. Season with salt and pepper.
Heat oil in heavy frying or saute pan and sear meat over medium-high heat until well-browned on all sides. Remove meat to platter and place in oven.
Add shallots to pan and saute briefly. Add red wine vinegar and deglaze pan. Add stock, then port, then prunes. Bring to gentle boil and allow to reduce, 5 minutes, until slightly thickened.
Stir in jam and ketchup. Remove meat from oven and pour juices into sauce. Stir, simmer, taste and adjust seasoning. Sauce should be viscous and shiny.
Arrange prunes amongst pieces of pork and pour sauce over all. Garnish and serve.
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