Lemon Tart

"Cake" for New Years

And...I'm back! I've cooked so much since I last shared something with you here and eaten even more. I've paid a visit to my new favourite place in the world, La Bretagne (or Brittany as is it known to the Anglophone world) where I fell head over heels in love (more on that later!). We ate our first "proper roast dinner" in a rediential neighborhood of London complete with dog under the table and a poster worthy wooden platter of beef and all the fixings (how sad I forgot my camera that day). More recently I cooked my first Porchetta, that dreamy Roman style pork roast covered in cracklin', as festive as it gets! And alongside a traditional bowl of broth filled with tiny handmade tortellini. A bowl of dreams I call it. I'm looking forward to 2012 and getting back into sharing my adventures with you.

But for now, lets deal the present task at hand - New Years Eve! I'm sharing one of my best kept secrets - Cake, en Francais!

I first discovered Cake Sale 4 years ago.  If I could figure Typepad you'd see an accent on the last "e", which changes things entirely. No this isn't cheap cake, but rather savoury cake. We were staying in a lovely B & B in the medieval village of Beynac in the Dordogne region. Jean Claude and Francoise Fleurie were the perfect hosts, and living my dream. Breakfasts and dinner we enjoyed there still remain memorable so many years later. Each morning a new dish and always a different cake, for breakfast! With my competent but limited French and her non existent English, we managed to strike up conversations about cooking, obviously her passion too. She spoke to me of the many regional foods that I had never enjoyed before such as Duck gizzard salad (turns out quite delicious), Vin de Noix, a sweet nutty dark aperitif and foie gras. When I told her of some of my own baking loves, she spoke of Cake and lent me a fantastic cookbook filled with savoury loaves.

Beaming Berries and Strawberry Gelee Tart

Quick! Grab the last of the berries out there and make this oh so summery dessert. This will have your guests beaming with delight, as I was when I finally made this tart, one that's been sitting on the "to bake" list for a couple years. Fresh vibrant summer berries bound together by a sweet, fruit filled, rose wine spiked gelatin.

With gelee desserts being all the rage right now, this berry tart will make you wonder why you haven't been eating more of this seemingly passe category of sweets. Banish your thoughts of Jell-O from your childhood or ,worse, hospital stays: this is high class and down home all at once!

I made this in classic tart form, starting with my go to sweet tart pastry case. Beautiful and perfect, but I think where it really shines is in gelatin molds to make grin worthy individual desserts. What you end up with is everything a simple strawberry tart is in a tidy, glittery package.

If you have a penchant for vintage gelatin molds that you've come across for pennies, this is where they shine. Simply cut pastry into shapes to match the size of your mold and bake. When ready to serve, turn your beaming berries out onto the cookie and enjoy.

They jiggle with delight and reflect like a bowl full of rubies. If you have molds like mine with a handy little indent in the middle, you can't help but fill that with a dainty scoop of vanilla ice cream. Stawberries and cream, you can't go wrong.

 

Strawberry Gelee Tart/ Beaming Berry Desserts

adapted from Gourmet Magazine.

Printable Version

Crust:

1 - 9 inch prebaked sweet tart crust

OR, for individual portions as pictured, you will need small tin gelatin molds, or custard/tea cups:

Using the recipe in the link above prepare the dough as directed, but instead of pressing into a tart pan, roll out to 1/4 inch thick as if making cookies, which is essentially what you'll be doing. Cut them using a cookie cutter with the same diameter as your mold. Place on baking sheet, 1 inch apart and chill, then make as directed, adjusting the time to about 10-15 min depending on their size. When golden brown, remove from oven and cool on wire rack.

Gelatin:

2 pounds strawberries, quartered or halved, depending on size (raspberries make a beautiful version)

3/4 cup sugar

1/4 cup lemon juice

1/3 cup rose Wine

1 used dried vanilla pod (optional)

1 envelope gelatin

 

Toss berries, sugar and lemon juice together, gently and leave at room temperature for a half hour. Gently pour the berries into a sieve over a bowl or glass measuring cup. Leave to drain for about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, bring rose wine, along with a dried used vanilla pod if using, to a boil and boil 1 minute to boil off some of the alcohol.

Once the berries are drained well, add the wine to the juice and then top off with enough cold water to make 2 cups liquid. Taste the liquid and adjust with more lemon juice if too sweet.

Pour liquid into a small saucepan and sprinkle the gelatin over top. Leave to soften for 5 minutes. Add any liquid from the berries that accumulates. Bring up to heat until steaming, or  just a  bare simmer, stirring to dissolve all the gelatin.  Remove from heat, pour into another bowl or measuring cup and cool for 15 minutes.

While liquid is cooling fill your tart shell or individual molds with berries until full. Then pour the liquid to the top, making sure berries are submerged. Carefully transfer to the fridge and leave to chill at least 2 hours for small cups and up to 4 for a full tart.

To assemble the individual desserts for serving:

Have a small bowl of warm water ready and dip the molds into the water for about 10 seconds. Wipe with a towel and then turn out on to a cookie base, while carefully using a knife along the edge of the gelatin to release it from the mold. This movement is slight and won't require you to run the knife along the entire edge. SImply insert and remove while tilting and then place completely upside down, give it a few seconds and you should hear a plop.

This is best the day of, but keeps nicely for about 3 days max.

Serving with Vanilla Ice cream is a must!

Rosa's Lemon Tart

Its nearing mid June, yet here on the Westcoast carefree warm summer days seem very far away. The garden is sluggish and I've only just worn my sandals for the first time. My yearning for extended warmth and blue skies has recently has me thinking about the French Riviera and magical days spent in that oh so cliched (for a reason!) part of the world. When I yearn for such memorable days, I usually aim to recreate them with the best way I know how - food! And so with a handful of lemons I whipped up this light, lemony Lemon Tart or Tarte Au Citron, and remembered fondly a day in Nice 3 years ago.

Nice, France is a city I can't wait to return to. Its a beautiful, vibrant city with an Italian feel due to the colourful painted buildings , Italiate architecture and an attitude all its own. The people there certainly will identify themselves as being proud Nicoise before French, a place worthy of such pride. 

Nicoise cuisine is full of bright vegetables and interesting flavours derived from an up and down history of foreign domination. Socca, the chick pea flour pancake seen above is the famous street food of the city. To be eaten quickly, its cheap, and readily available throughout town and  in simple cafes or on outdoor picnic tables. Commonly washed down with a tumbler of cheap local rose wine, I crave it regularly and have wished a stove top version made at home might suffice. Another thing to draw me back there of course is the Rose. We drink copius amounts of it we drink when in this parts of the world and no wine brings back memories of place more than this. Rose is abundant in the French Riviera, and cheaper, and as you can see by this photo I took of the rose section in the Monoprix, there's much more of it there than in my local liquor store. I weep for such selection.

I once took a cooking class in Nice from food fellow blogger, Rosa Jackson - cookbook author, teacher, blogger, guide book editor and fellow foodie extraordinaire. This proved to be one of my favourite travel memories and a day I hold dear. After wandering the vibrant Marche Cours Saleya ogling huge local Menton lemons, shiny Provencal strawberries, and baskets of wild thyme, we made our way through the narrow lanes of the Old Town stopping in quaint family run shops full of the best of everything. We gathered my favourite Cote de Provence wine, the best goat cheese and the freshest hen. Over the course of the next few hours a grand lunch would be prepared where we roasted, chopped, sauteed and baked everything needed for a proper French lunch. Of course ratatouille was enjoyed, in fact it was stuffed into squash blossoms and zucchinis and served with deeply flavoured Guinea fowl and braised white asparagus of the season. 

The meal continued with a goat cheese that I count as 1 of the single greatest cheeses I have ever eaten, only available to her and a chef at the grand Louis XV in Monte Carlo and Rosa herself. Talk about connections! But what ended that lovely lunch eaten slowly with rose in hand and lovely company from Canada, Boston and Nice was a lemon tart that had me moaning inappropriately. 

Lemon Tarts are my specialty and indeed close to my heart. I'm rarely impressed by many, as they are often too sweet, have bad pastry or worse yet not even made with real lemons. Yet even with this sort of malaise, I still keep my eyes and nose tuned to the possibility of a good one. This tart remains one of my favourites and I loved that I took home this technique and recipe from such a memorable experience. Each time I make it I think of that afternoon, that week, that beautiful place.

Arugula Radish Salad with Meyer Lemon and Parmesan

If ever I were to write my a cookbook it would be about salads. This may come as a surprise to some of you. After all, the sweet realm is really the place of my heart and soul and certainly my specialty. But putting together interesting salads is something that seems natural to me, which I'm sure is largely based on my absolute passion for vegetables. Considering a salad is part of our dinner almost daily, I've had a lot of chance to perfect my skills.  My favourite executions often involve combining whatever bare bone ingredients I can scrounge in the fridge. These exercises in creativity give me a challenge I relish more in more. Making a memorable dish out of what appears to be nothing is the greatest satisfaction there is in cooking.

My approach to the perfect salad has evolved over the years and what I tend to create more often these days are simple combinations of fewer ingredients, served in shallow bowl, Chez Panisse style. Balance is key to a great salad and once you learn that it becomes easier to create new and interesting mixes. Most of the year you are more likely to find me making salads where the greens are used in a supporting role, with cooked or raw, shaved, grated or sliced vegetables taking centre stage. Salad greens or "leaves" are sought after in spring when they are new and fresh and hearkening the growing season ahead. This is the only time of year I'm giddy about greens. With its constant presence, we forget that even lettuce has a season, spring being the best one. You can eat lettuce all year and not notice it, but then you have some in April or May straight from the garden and you sit up and notice it for the first time because it tastes of something beyond water.

I've made this salad multiple times for the last 3 weeks, since I first spotted my beloved French Breakfast Radishes (I do so love them) and bags of the tenderest (and cleanest!) Arugula at the market a couple weeks ago. On market days like these a salad announces itself, I simply allow them a place to come together. The elements are the simplest, and so is the application. Peppery arugula plays well with the mild crunchy radishes which is then brought to life with lemon zest and balanced out with salty, pleasingly textured parmesan cheese. It all comes together by olive oil which coats rather than drenches the tender spring greens which really are young and soft without the strong stems they will begin to form throughout summer. Then of course there's the visual beauty of that bright spring green alongside the fushia and white tinged radishes, echoing the very same colour combination in my vase of tulips on the table. This salad is my love letter to spring, and a salad I'll be happy to eat too much of.

 

 

 

Nibby Nut Butter Granola

 
  I've been making my own granola for years, before I made  jam, crackers, bread or any other such foods. In the beginning I was amazed at how dead pan easy it was and I'm sure I asked the question "why would you buy this?". I know that's a complicated question and there are plenty of easy to make foods that in actuality are are quite simple in their execution. Think chocolate truffles, salad dressing, ricotta and even yogurt . But granola is really one I wish people dived into more.  Its easier than chocolate chip cookies, lasts longer, and is so sooo much cheaper than buying it.

My granola recipe began with a Martha Stewart recipe, as many of my early and current work does. From there it evolved with influences from many, morphing eventually into one recipe I can call me own and is still my go to formula -  high fibre, low sugar version loaded with nuts and seeds and often a variety of rolled grains, studded with bright dried berries. Perfect breakfast on the go. Its been affectionately labeled, Tamola.

But even with a tried and true recipe, I'm still always on the look out for something unique. Last year  I was particularly smitten with a granola that included a healthy does of molasses, giving it a deep dark flavour and I even dabbled in a recipe that included boiling apple cider down to a syrup to use as a sweetener. When I read a note by Mark Bittman about peanut butter granola the idea sounded positively revolutionary.

I came across a coveted jar of local hazelnut butter in my fridge and this inspired this recipe I'm sharing with you today. Since this was created soon after world nutella day, I had chocolate and hazelnut on the brain. While certainly a sweet, almost dessert version of granola could be made with chopped chocolate or cocao (wait until Nutella Day 2012!), this was still to be a breakfast treat. I reached for a tin of Theo Cacao nibs, perfect little bits of chocolate flavour provided by the broken nibs that are destined to become that dark chocolate I love. You get chocolate flavour without the sugar and plenty of crunch. This was so be some special batch of granola.

What makes this granola even better than the sum of its parts, however, are the clusters! Those nubby  globs of compacted ingredients seem like something you find in purchased granola or cereal boxes. But they are easily accomplished with this recipe because of the nut butter, which provides glue for those clusters.

 

Orange Ricotta Pound Cake

 As a follow up to the last post at Lemon Tart, where I told you my obsession with homemade ricotta, I thought you might like to know what exactly you should do with that beautiful cheese, should you find yourself with too much to eat by the spoonful.

When there's only 2 of us in the house, neither of whom love a tall glass of milk at dinner (sorry, Mom),  1/2 gallon of, albeit beautiful, milk a week eventually gets away from us. I make plenty of ice cream (especially with my new toy!) and any other custard based desserts are the puddings of dreams with this bovine elixer, but eventually something else needs to be done with that 2 litres of fresh, alive milk. 

Early on I learned to make yogurt, a beautiful breakfast treat that I think I might need to make easier and more fun with the addition of a yogurt maker.(If Rosa can justify it, perhaps I can). But then I discovered that my favourite use for excess milk was to make homemade ricotta, and now I have a  raw ingredient that means good things for weekly meal plans. Fluffy ricotta gnocchi, a partner with nettles for ravioli, a sprinkle on tacos.

And then there's this cake. A cake I don't recommend making  if you are hungry. I assure you this will spoil your dinner, and it makes me think I should rename the cake to "Dinner Spoiling Poundcake", although somehow that doesn't sound as mouthwatering. But once it comes out of the oven you are not going to be able to hold yourself back - so make it for breakfast.

This cake has ruined me for the classic. While some might see the replacement of some of the butter with ricotta cheese as a calorie adjustment, what's really going on is a pound cake on steroids! The ricotta adds a softness that the original just doesn't have.  And don't worry, you really don't need homemade ricotta to make this cake. Store bought works fine too, just has to be drained more.

 

It's nearing the end of the citrus season and my body must know that because its craving orange on everything short of scrambled eggs. A healthy does of tangerine or orange zest alongside the ricotta and butter make this cake almost creamsicle like, and so much lighter than the classic. A bright, easy to prepare marmalade glaze forces you to use your preserves for more than toast and adds a beautiful sheen. It also serves as preserving agent allowing this cake to last for days. But this one won't last long and is really so perfect with my afternoon tea.

 

Ricotta Cheese : Make it Yourself!

Lean in close.... I'm going to tell you a secret, something dairy manufacturers haven't wanted you to know in a least a couple generations:  You can. Make cheese. 

In less time than a Glee episode, you can have full flavoured, dreamy, ricotta cheese ready for so many great dishes. It doesn't take any special equipment, and the only ingredient you'll need other than good milk is citric acid.

Raw milk laws in Canada mean the milk I  buy must be labelled not for human consumption and as a cosmetic product. I'm happy to "drink" my body lotion!

 At some point in the prepared food production system, someone convinced us that basic fresh cheese wasn't anything those of us without a cow  should be making ourselves. I've been making my own soft cheeses for awhile now, like ricotta, mozzarella and mascarpone, but the ricotta is the one that's got my dance card. A batch of this ethereal, dairy magic is heated, coagulated and strained in my humble kitchen about  every other week. In fact I look forward to the day my milk supply gets away from me. What certainly began as a preservation technique centuries ago prolongs my milk's life as well. But don't worry, this can be made with any milk you can get, raw or not.
      
 A container of this in the fridge means the most beautiful topping for homemade pizza,  a picture perfect appetizer slathered on toasted baguette with pesto and a sun dried tomato and a pound cake I can't keep myself my sneaking each time I pass the kitchen (coming soon!). Not to mention these textbook perfect calzones that make you salivate upon first sight. This cheese is lacking in gums, stabilizers and preservatives, so that milk flavour shines through humbly and perfectly.

 In my enthusiasm for what seems incredibly exciting for this modern 21st century food lover, I told my 94 Grandmother that I'd been making cheese. She nodded with a reserved sense of interest that comes from living a life that long, having seen it all. Then she told me that her mother used to make cheese. I nodded with interest, assuming what she was talking about was a simple fresh farmers cheese. She continued her story, to explain the process of curds being scooped into drained baskets and put aside to drain. And then they were left in a root cellar to dry. She was indeed speaking of the real thing, a country Tomme style cheese. I hadn't heard any accounts of having a cheesemaker in the family. Well in fact there weren't, not as profession. She was a seamstress but she lived on a farm and at the turn of the 20th century if you had a cow you had to do something to preserve that milk, so cheese was made. Simple as that. In this age of rock star food producers, of reverence for cheesemakers and bread bakers and sausage makers, its an important reminder indeed these foods we hold in such esteem now, were all born out of necessity, there was nothing glamorous or impressive about making your own Tomme in 1905, it was simply a way to feed your family through winter.
 
Making this simple ricotta cheese will remind you that many of the convenience foods we buy are not so much work to make ourself. The trade off of a little time is worth it for something this good.