Classic Old-Fashioned Apple Pie

NO GALETTE DES ROIS

Good apple pies are a considerable part of our domestic happiness. 

- Jane Austen 

I have made Galette des Rois for the 6th day of January, for Epiphany, for the last few years. This year I did not. I had been craving a good, old-fashioned, all-American apple pie since we began visiting the apple stand at the market early autumn. Crude wooden crates hold tumbles, piles and heaps of apples and pears in shades of red, green, yellow and brown straight from the orchards, straight from the trees. Local apples from Pays de la Loire. The vendors scoop up the apple of one’s choice…. Actually, the vendors, scruffily dressed, wrapped in coarse cotton aprons, yellow plastic glove snug over the scooping hand, lean in towards us over the row of crates in which apples and pears lie snuggly, fragrantly together in the cool winter weather, and ask for our selection. And they expertly translate our answer “apples to eat, crunchy, flavorful, sweet and tart” or “the perfect apple for baking into a pie, one that stays flavorful and sweet while meltingly smooth when cooked” or “apples for sautéing and serving with boudin blanc” into Fuji, Cox Orange, Jonagold, Reine des Reinettes or Grise du Canada.


They scoop up – as they do – six, eight, ten, a kilo or two – into the worn, scratched, battered plastic tubs sitting atop one of the scales then, in one eloquent movement, pour the tubful of apples into a plastic bag and, with a sharp flick or two of the wrist, tie the top of the sack in a knot as they ask for our next desire.

Pie and Coffee is approximately the third best social interaction 

a man can hope to have with a woman. 

- Anonymous 

So when husband began feeling ill, coming down with whatever is going around, I offered to make him that apple pie, one of his favorite treats, comfort food at its best. And he smiled and hugged me and said yes.

Making and enjoying a galette des rois has nothing religious about it in our home. It is a French tradition. From just a day or two after Christmas, the Bûches de Noël are replaced by galettes in pastry shop and bakery cases, the tiny Santas and fir trees and mushrooms perched atop waves of chocolate and praline buttercream, atop tiny pastry Yule logs are replaced by flashy gold paper crowns perched atop rounds of puff pastry filled with almond cream, pastry cream or apple purée, a tiny fève or lucky charm hidden within. Making our own galette des rois from scratch was simply a baking exercise for me in much the same way as attempting and perfecting macarons or yeast bread. But for my husband, who suggested my baking a galette the very first time, it might have been a craving, a game or a way to turn my baking energy towards something that we would have purchased and eaten anyway, so why not homemade? We have always loved sitting together around the table as a family on the 6th of January and cutting into the galette, doling out slice after slice and digging in amid laughter and goodhearted chatter, impatient to find out who will discover the good luck charm in his or her slice, the lucky one that will then be designated king or queen for the day, the golden crown placed on their head.

It’s apple pies that make the menfolks’ mouths water. 

Pies made from apples like these. 

- the Queen in Snow White 

But apple pie is so much homier, so much sweeter in both flavor and temperament. A sign not of tradition as much as of love. And surely apple pie – along with laughter - is the best medicine.

If you do want to make a classic Galette des Rois:

Classic Galette des Rois with Frangipane Filling

Galette des Rois with Maple Cinnamon Applesauce Filling

Galette des Rois with Vanilla Bean Apple Pastry Cream Filling

Individual Galettes des Rois with Caramelized Apples 








CLASSIC, COMFORTING OLD-FASHIONED APPLE PIE

If you have never made or rolled out a pie crust by hand before, you can find step-by-step photos here.

Sweet Pastry Pie Crust (recipe below)
8 apples, your favorite for pie
½ cup (100 g) sugar
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp nutmeg
1 Tbs (15 g) unsalted butter, more or less
Cinnamon-Sugar or granulated brown sugar for dusting top of pie
Milk for brushing top of pie

Sweet Pastry Pie Crust for double-crust pie:
2 ½ cups (315 g) flour and more for work surface
½ cup (100 g) sugar
14 Tbs (200 g) unsalted butter, cubed *
2 eggs, lightly beaten

* most pie crust recipes call for the butter to be chilled. I have found that butter at room temperature is easier and quicker to work into the flour and the dough seems to be fluffier and the resulting crust flakier. If using room temperature butter, wrap the finished dough in plastic wrap and allow to chill in the refrigerator until firm enough to roll out without sticking to the rolling pin or ripping when lifted, about 30 minutes or more.

Prepare double pie crust:

Butter a 10” wide x 1 1/2” deep pie dish and dust lightly with flour. 

Combine flour and sugar in a mixing bowl or on a work surface and toss the cubes of butter into the flour-sugar until coated with the flour. Using only your thumbs and fingertips, rub the butter into the flour until the consistency of damp sand and there are no more large chunks of butter. With a fork, vigorously stir in the lightly beaten egg until all the dry ingredients are moistened and a dough starts to pull together. Gather the dough together into a ball and place on a lightly floured surface. Using the heel of one hand, smear the dough little by little away from you in quick, hard strokes in order to make sure that all of the butter is blended in well. Flour the surface of the dough or your hand to keep the dough sticking to your skin.

Scrape the dough together, re-flour the work surface and work very briefly and quickly until you have a smooth, homogenous dough. If the dough is too soft or sticky, refrigerate it for 15 to 30 minutes until it can be easily rolled out without sticking to your rolling pin.

Divide the dough into two pieces, one slightly larger than the other.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the smaller piece of dough and line the buttered and lightly floured 10” wide, 1 1/2” deep pie dish, carefully lifting and placing the dough into place (just pressing the dough in will cause the dough to rip). Press closed any gaps or rips and prick the dough all over with a fork. Return the other half of the dough to the refrigerator to keep chilled and firm while preparing the apples.

Prepare the fruit and pie:

Preheat the oven to 450°F (230°C).

Peel and core the apples and slice thinly. Place the apple slices in a very large mixing bowl. Stir the cinnamon and the nutmeg into the sugar until blended; add to the apples and toss until the sugar-spice mixture is evenly coating the apple slices.

Fill the bottom crust (the pastry-lined pie plate) with the apple slices so that they are evenly distributed, moving them around to fill in any gaps. Dot the apples with the butter.

Roll out the top crust so it is a bit larger than the pie plate and carefully place it on top of the apples, hanging over the edges. Cut off excess of top and bottom crusts leaving about an inch of dough. Tuck and press the top and bottom dough together to seal and then crimp. Trim excess dough.

Brush the top of the crust all over with the milk. Slice 5 or 6 vents in the crust. Sprinkle the top crust with cinnamon-sugar or granulated Brown sugar.

Place the pie in the preheated hot oven for 15 minutes, then lower the heat to 350°F (180°C) and continue baking for 30 minutes or until both top and bottom crusts are browned.

The apple filling and juices are very hot when first out of the oven, so let the apple pie cool somewhat on a cooling rack before slicing and serving. If you want to replace your traditional galette des rois with an apple pie, feel free to slip in a lucky charm…

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Individual Apple Crumbles

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Why not upset the apple cart? If you don't, the apples will rot anyway. 

- Frank A. Clark 

The New Year is swiftly approaching, but before we pop the cork on that bottle of bubbly we still have the time to savor the last few days of this year, playing with the toys we have received from loved ones, putting up our feet and watching one more Christmas movie, the last slice of pie nabbed, plated and on our lap. We watch as the leftovers disappear from the fridge, never fast enough, although we know that all those plastic containers of turkey and relish, stuffing, salads and bûche de noël will save us from having to cook another meal quite yet. We sit in our favorite comfy chair and sigh contentedly, smiling at those who gather round us as we tiptoe towards January first and a new year. So just take a breath and, before we commit ourselves to those big, impossible resolutions, let’s have a little more cake and think it all through.


New Year’s Resolutions.

The time is once more upon us when we sit down and, pen and paper in hand, draw up that impossible list of resolutions, that endless list of promises to ourselves, promises rarely kept. This cold, cold month comes to a rousing, bubbly conclusion and as the end draws nigh something odd and inexplicable takes over us. All power of sensible thinking comes screeching to a halt and irrational thoughts flood our poor over-holidayed brain. All of those heavy meals and sweets must have made us delirious, intoxicated by one too many candy cane or marshmallow Santa. Maybe it was the days and days of stirring cookie dough, pushing heaping spoonful after heaping spoonful of the stuff onto innumerable cookie sheets and putting a tray in, pulling a tray out and replacing it with yet another tray of even more little mounds of cookie dough. Maybe it was all that sentimental “Good will towards men” stuff, all the presents that softened our hearts, all those Christmas specials and maudlin, wistful black and white holiday films that did the job. Spending time with beaming grandparents or too many giddy little kids, thoughts of jolly Old Saint Nick sliding down yet another chimney or all the dazzling, glittery candles and fairy lights that blinded us, the frivolity of the season and the festive preparations for New Year’s Eve made us go all wobbly and weak-kneed and completely lose all sense of reason. And in a moment of nostalgia and sanctimoniousness, of feel-good pluck, believing that anything is within our reach, we do it.

We pull out pen and paper and begin the list.

Glancing over past lists, we shake our head in disbelief and wonder how we can, year after year, set the bar so high, pledging to ourselves and anyone within listening range that we will do this or that as if the simple act of turning over a page on the calendar will make us better, more determined, more resolute. And it usually comes to nothing. As the January days turn gray and dreary, as the lights are taken down and boxed back up, the feel-good holiday joy and frivolity slowly turns back into winter slump.

Comfort me with apples. 

- Song of Solomon 2:5 

New Beginnings.

Starting a new year is both exciting and scary, a time of reflection, thanks and wishes. We hope for great things yet are unsure of what it will bring. This year, I have decided not to try putting together a list of resolutions, no matter how reasonable, promises to myself, for I know that I am lazy and that, no matter the good intentions, I would much rather be baking.

I also know that very little will change my writer’s heart, my writer’s self-doubt, my writer’s emotions. I would love to tell myself that I will be more steadfast and focused, that I will work more quickly, that I will neither take myself nor the world around me so seriously nor allow myself the luxury of feeling low, hesitant, questioning my place in the world, measuring my own success and failure against others and always coming out behind.

I know that this will never change; I am who I am. And so I have decided to remind myself what I have earned in 2013, of the good things that have come to me. I will celebrate what I have received, the friends I have made, the people who have touched me with their love and encouragement and allow that to inspire my 2014. Instead of making claims to a future that does not yet exist in an attempt to change the way that I fundamentally am, I will look back as a way to influence my future actions, motivate my creativity, reassure myself of my road. And remind myself of all that I truly appreciate.

Fulfilling my passions, achieving my goals, inspiring others and allowing others to inspire and motivate me, creating new friendships, new partnerships, reinforcing the old. Wallowing in the love and laughter that fills our home while putting the troubles into perspective, taking them one day at a time. These are the building blocks of a new year.

Don't get fancy. Have you cooked an apple pie? You don't know what you did wrong? Do this: Take two or three apples. Put them on a table. Study them. 

- Paul Prudhomme 

I end 2013 and lead into 2014 with apples. Homey, comforting apples baked warm, meltingly smooth and oh so sweet. The mysterious, forbidden apple, the symbol of both love and sexuality to some, sweetness and new beginnings to others. To yet others, the apple embodies home. Whether baking an all-American apple pie or a very French apple galette, whether dipping apples in honey at the Jewish New Year or baking them into puff pastry at Epiphany, puddings, coffee cakes and yeasty apple-filled wreaths, the apple is the one single fruit that is at home in both everyday comfort food and elegant treats, eaten all the year round at every occasion. And there is no better way to welcome in a new year than with something homey, comforting, warm and sweet.

For more apple recipes, visit my Favorite Recipes page.

APPLE CRUMBLE

Makes 6 or 7 individual crumbles For the Apples :

 4 – 5 cups apple cubes, about 5 small to medium-sized apples *
2 Tbs brown sugar (granulated brown sugar or light brown packed sugar)
2 Tbs freshly squeezed orange juice
¼ tsp ground cinnamon

* I used Cox Orange – very sweet with a slight tartness, an apple that becomes meltingly smooth when baked.

For the Apple Crumble Topping: 

1 cup (130 g) flour 2 pinches salt
½ tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp baking powder
¼ cup (50 g) granulated white sugar
¼ cup (55 g) packed or granulated light brown sugar
½ cup (115 g) cold butter, cubed 

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Place 6 individual ramekins on a baking sheet and set aside.

Prepare the fruit filling:

Peel and core the apples; chop into small cubes. Toss with the sugar, cinnamon and orange juice. Spoon the prepared fruit into the waiting ramekins, evenly dividing it between the cups and piling it up a bit – remember that cooked fruit will shrink. Push little cubes of apples in any gap or space.

Prepare the crumble topping:

Combine all of the ingredients except for the butter in a large mixing bowl. Toss until well combined. Add the cubes of cold butter and, using your fingertips, rub or work the butter into the dry ingredients until there are no more chunks of butter and the mixture resembles rough damp sand or crumbs.

Divide the crumble mixture evenly between the ramekins, spooning it generously on top of the fruit. Gently press the crumble topping down onto the fruit just to keep it from falling off of the fruit and onto the baking sheet.

Bake the ramekins on the baking sheet for 35 – 40 minutes until the crumble puffs up and turns a light golden color; the fruit should be bubbling in the ramekins and up around the edges of the crumble. It may even begin to dribble down the sides of the ramekins .

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iOS 7 Jailbreak is now ready for download for Windows and Mac

It did not take long from evasi0n team to release a Jailbreak tool for the latest iOS 7,  the latest jailbreak tool will work with iPhone, iPod Touch, iPad and iPad mini models that have the latest iOS 7 up to 7.04.

The evasi0n 7 version 1.0.1 is the latest version at the moment this new version completely removes the controversial Chinese TaiG App Store from the install package.

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French Apple Cake

REAL FRENCH WOMEN BAKE CAKE

Let them eat cake. 

– Marie Antoinette 

While my own parents were making pies with frozen shells and canned filling or cakes from boxed mixes, my future mother-in-law was feeding her family on homemade treats. Apricot or plum halves pressed into sugary, crumbly pâte sablée or rich quatre-quart made with butter, milk, sugar and flour. Simple apple tarts in season, the apples straight from their boutique downstairs, much later coming from the orchard down the street. While my father was whipping up pudding from a mix, my future mother-in-law was preparing creamy, sweet rice pudding for her tots, milk, sugar and rice in a pot on the stove bubbling away. Simple, rustic treats, indeed, perfect eaten for breakfast or that ever-so punctual snack mid morning or mid afternoon. Perfect for plumping up children on the cheap while assuring goodness in the natural ingredients.


The French have always had home-baked goods down to a fine art, quick, easy and frugal. Oh, don’t mix up everyday fare with what you see in the French pastry shops. Those creamy, decadent, fancy concoctions are for special occasions. Holidays, birthdays and company. But everyday or Sunday lunches en famille mean homey, comforting and filling food, the occasional dessert simply to round off the meal.

For many years, we lived within visiting distance of my in-laws; our first home was a short drive from their corner mom-and-pop shop and apartment and even possible on foot. When they retired, we had long moved from the northern suburbs of Paris to the southeastern side of the city while they bought a house in a tiny village (just 300 souls) one hour further east. With two little grandsons, weekends meant packing up the car and driving out to see them, usually for the entire weekend. Our sons would play in the yard, dig in grandpa’s vegetable garden, splash in the wading pool in the summer and snuggle on the sofa with a stuffed animal and a book in front of the fireplace in the winter or play card games with their grandparents long into the afternoon.

The family shop

While the boys were outside doing their guy stuff and bonding with grandpa, I would spend the mornings, Saturday and Sunday, in the kitchen with my mother-in-law Madeleine and watch her cook. We would chat convivially about this and that, the children, my husband, not much else. My mother-in-law was far from the stereotypical French woman perfectly coiffed and made up, slipped into a twin set, skirt and pretty little pumps, pearls slung elegantly around her neck. She was from simple country stock, a homey woman wrapped in a colorful cotton housedress-style apron buttoned up from knee to neck over her clothing, sensible crepe-soled shoes on her feet, heavy cotton stockings peeping out from between ankle and knee. Her wispy white hair was a short, plain boyish cut framing a clean-scrubbed face and she lived her retirement for her grandchildren. She expected us to visit every weekend and every holiday. And she would prepare her delicious, heavy, perfectly orchestrated meals for us as she had done for all those decades of her life, for her parents, her husband and children and now us.

I would watch her, mesmerized, as she prepared a chicken to roast, her fingers smearing scoops of yellow margarine over the skin. I would watch her peel carrots or potatoes, the bits of peel flicking all over the cheap vinyl tablecloth, the pattern long scratched and faded from constant scrubbing. She would pick away the shell from hardboiled eggs to plop onto thick slices of ripe summer tomatoes or grated carrots in vinaigrette then whisk up a homemade mayonnaise to spoon onto each egg half. Her movements were quick and nimble from years of practice, homemade meals prepared and placed on her table every single day since she married and before without exception; her cooking and baking using only the most rudimentary of measuring techniques, her recipes memorized, her reflexes automatic. The food was far from refined, yet how good was her roast chicken and French fries, both tender on the inside, crispy on the outside. Or her blanquette made with veal, rustic chunks of carrots and canned mushrooms swimming in a thick white sauce or her braised endives wrapped in slices of ham and smothered under cheesy béchamel or the pigeon wrapped in green cabbage, dotted with lardons. 

Sometimes JP would join her, turning her rather simple, sometimes bland dishes into something a bit more spectacular. He grew up helping her prepare lunches while she worked in the family shop one floor below their apartment; as he grew older and into his teens, he often took over completely, making the meal choices and cooking from beginning to end, experimenting and making dishes that were not in his mother’s repertoire, so he was no stranger to the kitchen and loved taking over as often as possible. Occasionally, he and I would hop in the car and drive to one of the surrounding villages or towns and pick up something complementary, a slice of terrine, a saucisson sec or some artisan cheeses.

But never dessert. Madeleine always prepared dessert. We would return home and she would be pushing damp, squishy pâte sablée, an egg-and-butter-rich cookie-type short pastry, into the corners of her fluted pie dish, expertly peeling apples with that old paring knife that had seen better days, the tip bent or chipped off, the wood of the handle faded and dulled with time. I would grab one of the long coils of peel that dropped onto the cracked cutting board and nibble on it as she cut the cored and trimmed apples into wedges (in her hands, not on the cutting board) – not elegant, papery thin slices seen layered on perfect puff pastry rounds in the finest pastry shops, but thick, rustic chunky slices, and pressed them into the soft dough, fanning them around and around in concentric circles, heavily dusting them with sugar before pushing the pie plate into the hot oven. In summer, the apples became plums, sweet, flavorful greengage plums from the tree in their yard or purple quetsche plums from a neighbor. In the winter, she would pop open a can of apricot halves in heavy syrup and plop them onto the dough or pull a bag of tree-ripened cherries from the freezer.

One sweet little grandson on the terrace, 

a duck and a plate of garden-ripe tomatoes

Her cakes were simple, fruit the only variation from plain vanilla pound cake, genoise or sponge. Never chocolate. No pastry cream or crème anglaise or anything fancy. Just something simple and homey that could be sliced and passed around with coffee at the end of the meal, easy enough for small grandsons to pick off chunks with their fingers to pop into their mouths, the leftovers haggled over a few hours later as the sleepy afternoon faded into time to go home.

When I got to France I realized I didn't know very much about food at all. 

I'd never had a real cake. 

 – Julia Child 

Nothing American about this wonderful apple cake. No cinnamon nor streusel topping to be seen. Only a tender, most cake with a hint of vanilla and loads of sweet apples. Perfect for breakfast, snacktime or dessert, this apple cake stays moist and tender for several days. This recipe brings me back to those weekends during apple season out at my in-laws house in that tiny, forgotten village. It brings to mind the afternoon walks with my husband out passed the orchards, around the fields to the squawks of the chickens, by the cows, around in front of the cemetery where my father-in-law would eventually be buried, across the miniscule square in front of the medieval church and back to the house just in time to warm one’s hands around a mug of coffee accompanied by a thick wedge of apple cake.

FRENCH APPLE CAKE

9-inch round x 2-inch deep cake pan (23-cm x 5-cm)

6 apples *
4 large eggs at room temperature
¾ cup (150 g) sugar
1 1/3 cups (170 g) flour
2 tsps baking powder
¼ tsp salt
3 Tbs vegetable oil
4 Tbs milk
½ tsp vanilla
Granulated sugar (or cinnamon-sugar) for serving

* for the apples, choose fairly crisp apples that become meltingly soft and tender when baked. Choose apples that are tart and sweet and retain their flavor when baked as much of the flavor of this treat comes from the fruit. I used Rubinette apples.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Grease (with more vegetable oil) and flour the bottom and sides of the cake pan, shaking out excess flour.

Peel and core the apples. Cut each apple into thick wedges, about 16 or so per apple.

In a large mixing bowl, beat the eggs with the sugar until thickened and pale, about 2 minutes. Stir together the flour, baking powder and salt and beat into the egg-sugar mixture in 3 or 4 additions, beating after each addition just until blended. Scrape down the sides. The batter should be thick and creamy.

Add the oil, the milk and vanilla and beat just until well blended. The batter should be thick enough to leave ribbon trails when the beaters are lifted.

Reserve the slices from one apple and then place all of the remaining apple slices in the pan in concentric circles, filling the bottom of the pan from edges to center and then continuing; this might make 2 layers of apples. Pour the batter onto the apple slices in the cake pan, spreading the batter evenly. Gently lay the reserved apple slices in a circular pattern on top of the batter and press just to settle into the batter, not submerging them.

Bake the cake in the preheated oven for about 50 - 60 minutes or until the top of the cake is a deep golden brown and the cake is set in the center. Use a tester to check that no more raw batter remains. If the cake browns too quickly, simply lay a piece of aluminum foil on top of the cake while it continues baking.

Remove the cake from the oven onto a cooling rack and let cool before serving. Dust the top of the cake generously with sugar to serve.

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Honey Baked Custard with Caramelized Apples

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Behave so the aroma of your actions may 

enhance the general sweetness of the atmosphere. 

- Henry David Thoreau

How many plates of apples and honey do I remember ! Flimsy paper plates, too fragile to hold the weight of all of those slices of apples. Sitting in the classrooms behind the synagogue on those chilly folding metal chairs, we would pass around that paper plate, balance it on one small hand while choosing one slick slice of apple, dip it in the golden gooey honey and proffer the plate to our neighbor. Concentrated on the paper plate as we were, ever-fearful that it would tip and flop over, visions of apples tumbling to the floor, the honey perched on the tip of our own slice would slither down our fingers, leaving a sweet sticky remembrance of this special New Year treat. Apple slices eaten, fingers licked, we would listen as our teacher explained the significance of the sweet apples and honey.

How many years of High Holiday services at the synagogue do I remember? Sitting between our parents in the Temple for the first part of the service then spending the rest of the morning in the tiny stretch of classrooms in the back for Children’s Services. The clunky old plastic accordion walls which separated the space into individual classrooms would be pushed back to create one long open room. A shortened religious service dotted with songs and stories, followed by games would be our welcome into the New Year. Folding tables would be set up, laden with a cold buffet, bagels and lox, tuna salad and cold drinks, cakes and cookies. We would each fill one of those thin paper plate and snuggle into a chilly metal chair and happily dig in. Then the apples and honey, slippery apple slices surrounding sticky puddles of fragrant honey amid shouts of L’Shanah Tova! Happy New Year!

Little brother....

It is tradition to welcome the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, with round, sweet foods which represent the wish for a round, sweet year to follow. The customary holiday Challah, a long braided loaf, is twisted into a circle, a round loaf for Rosh Hashanah. Already slightly sweet, sometimes made even more festive by the addition of ground almonds or plump raisins, slices of Challah will be passed around, chunks torn off and then dipped, yes, that’s right, into honey. We eat new fruits as well, fruits of the approaching season that we haven’t yet tasted, such as the pomegranate, in order to thank God for bringing us to this new season. And fish, the symbol of fertility and abundance, all things wished for the coming year. And apples, of course. Apples and honey to be eaten together as we pray for a round year sweet from beginning to end and on and on, a never-ending circle.

Honey and apples are, of course, the most well known traditional foods eaten on the Jewish New Year and not only eaten as is. They are baked into cakes, honey cakes and apple cakes galore – everyone seems to have his or her own family recipe! Yet honey, apples and other sweet things like raisins, prunes, dates, plums or other seasonally sweet foods, also flavor the savory dishes served during the New Year Meal. I often serve the sweet and savory Lamb with Honey, Almonds and Prunes, a Rosh Hashanah traditional dish served at Sephardic celebrations. Chicken baked with cinnamon and apples or a honey-coated baked chicken with preserved lemons, both Joan Nathan recipes, are stunning, savory sweet additions to the holiday table. My mother’s Sweet and Sour Brisket will be our newest holiday addition.

I pull out my collection of old cookbooks: home recipes gathered and shared by this community organization or that synagogue Sisterhood, recipes I turn to again and again when the Jewish holidays come around. I place them next to my new battery of cookbooks, Jayne Cohen, Claudia Roden and Joan Nathan, among others, and flip through each looking for something new to make to mark this special celebration, the beginning of the holiest days in the Jewish year. “Why make yet another honey cake?” I ask myself. “Or an apple cake, for that matter?” I try and make something new each year, out of the ordinary. And this year, although the idea of Honey Cake crossed my mind, I decided to bring it in another direction.

A baked custard. I found a recipe for Baked Custard in my favorite old community cookbook Abigail Serves, The Choicest Recipes Presented by Sisters of Abigail No. 3 United Order of True Sisters. Albany, New York, 1956. My Great Aunt Mae was chairman. This group did community service and raised money for such varied things as equipping the kitchen of the local YW and YMCA, isotope treatments for the indigent at Albany hospital, playing checkers with or writing letters for local veterans or organizing birthday parties for them. They set up and equipped a room for Cerebral Palsy patients at the hospital and raised money for a Warppler Machine at Albany’s Memorial Hospital.

The cookbook is a treasure, filled with fabulous and homey recipes from meat borscht and gefilte fish to spring lamb stew and lemon sole casserole with cream sauce. From Heavenly Chocolate Cupcakes to Lemon Chiffon Pie. I dug around and came across a recipe for Baked Custard with several variations. I chose Baked Honey Custard and knew I would serve them with Honey-Caramelized Apples.

For a round, sweet Happy New Year.

BAKED HONEY CUSTARD

3 large eggs
½ cup (125 ml) runny (liquid) honey
¼ tsp salt
3 cups (700 ml) milk
½ tsp vanilla extract
Nutmeg

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Prepare 6 – 8 ramekins or oven-safe custard cups; place them in a baking pan that will hold water.

Place the 3 cups milk into a saucepan and gently (over low to medium heat) bring it just up to the boil. Immediately remove from the heat.

Whisk the 3 eggs in a medium to large bowl. Add the honey and salt and whisk briskly until well blended. Pour the scalded milk into the egg and honey mixture in a slow stream while whisking constantly. Once all of the milk has been blended in, stir in the vanilla.

Evenly divide between the custard cups which are already sitting on the baking pan – I find it easier to pour the liquid into a large measuring cup with a spout, which allows you to pour cleanly into the cups without making a mess. Dust the top of each custard with just a tiny pinch of nutmeg and place the baking pan in the preheated oven. Very carefully pour very hot water (tap water is fine) in the baking pan, around the custard cups, careful not to get any water in the custards.

Bake the custards for 40 – 50 minutes (the original recipe called for closer to 35 minutes for individual custard cups while mine baked closer to 50 minutes. Just check often.) The custards are done when set in the center – test by very gently touching the top of the custard or gently jiggling the pan. The will continue to firm up a bit when chilling.

When set, remove the pan from the oven and place on a cooling rack. Allow to cool for about 10 minutes. Carefully lift each custard from the water bath and place on a cooling rack until cool enough to refrigerate. Cover each in plastic wrap and chill.

HONEY CARAMELIZED APPLES

I play the quantities by ear; just don’t leave the apples cooking unattended.

1 apple or more, depending upon whether you want to top the custards with more than a heaping tablespoon - I find one apple is good for about 4 custards
Butter or margarine
Water
Honey
Rum, optional
Cinnamon or nutmeg, optional
Whipped cream for serving, optional

Peel and core the apples and chop into small cubes. Heat a small amount of butter or margarine – about a teaspoon per apple – in a skillet and toss in the apple cubes. Cook, tossing often, until the apples are tender. Add small amount of water occasionally as the apple cooks; the water will steam off but will help “poach” the apples and keep them moist while not allowing them to brown.

Once the apples are fork tender, drizzle on honey, maybe ½ - 1 tablespoon per apple, depending upon the sweetness and the tanginess of the fruit. Continue to stir, adding more water as needed and desired. Add a tablespoon or 2 of rum to the fruit – if desired - as it is cooking, allowing the alcohol to burn away.

Once the apples are cooked as desired – taste and adjust the sweetness – scrape out of the skillet into a bowl to cool at least slightly before serving over the chilled Honey Custards. Top with a very light dusting of ground cinnamon or nutmeg and a bit of whipped cream.

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Apple Galette

MELTDOWN

Monday Monday, can't trust that day,

Monday Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way 

Oh Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be 

– The Mamas and The Papas 

Collapse. Breakdown. A harrowing experience one wishes not to live twice, but alas, in these modern times of technological necessity and dependence, one must always be prepared, expect the unexpected, embrace the unwelcome. Computer meltdown. One day we are insouciant, nonchalantly logging on, casually logging off, pulling up documents at will, loading photos without restraint and baring our soul, exposing every intimate detail of our private life on a plethora of social media platforms morning, noon and night. Connected. The next day…nothing. Blackness greets us when we sit down at our desk in the early hours of the morning, steaming mug of café au lait within easy reach, dishwasher humming smoothly in the background. Complete and horrid meltdown. And it happened to me.

Monday Monday, you gave me no warning. Smooth, white plastic lid lifted, tiny button pressed, a flash of light, a hint of that funny image of pink flamingos stalking across the bottom of my desktop and then utter blackness. And sheer, blessed panic. I feared his reaction, although I must approach him. I braced myself for his accusations of how I misuse my machine, how I do not think of the necessary upkeep, maintenance and care of my little box. How I treat it with the disdain of one who takes too much for granted. Yet, yet…at the same time I knew this would be a challenge for him, a distraction. He calmly suggested I call the Mac Shop and I did. Once they opened (this is, after all, France, and one can never make the assumption that a shop is ever open), he accompanied me down there and, after explaining the problem, we were led to believe that all hope was lost. Or at the very least cost us an arm and a leg (or, as the French so elegantly put it: “Les yeux de la tête, the eyes from our head.”)

Husband has never been one to accept anything at face value or to give in and give up. And with the cost of a new laptop hovering menacingly over our heads, he was determined to solve the mystery and figure out what the true problem was. I, on the other hand, had a mounting feeling of impending disaster. Disappearing from social media, not able to blog, my projects left hanging in midair and being reduced to the miniscule keyboard on my iphone for answering emails. He pushed me out of the way, plugged in my laptop onto what looked like life support and I wandered off and slumped into the armchair, fingers desperately clutching my iphone, in front of the tv.

And don’t the darnedest things just happen at the darnedest times? I felt the vibration of a text coming through, glanced at the tiny screen and saw it was from son. His friend had just contacted him letting him know that she was selling her Macbook. Coincidence? Providence? Divine intervention? Laptop was soon in our hands and hooked up to my own. Enough cords to look like Frankenstein’s experiment flooded the tabletop and the surrounding floor and all we were praying for was a lightening storm. The mystical operation of transferring life – all of my files – from one machine to the other commenced! I know when I should simply walk away, leave well enough alone and let him at it. From the kitchen I heard the banging start. Banging and pounding on my laptop with the shrieks of Yes! Yes! I see it! Yes! There it is! I got it! He had magically made my screen reappear long enough to connect and begin the transfer of data and files by simply pounding on the keyboard with all of his might. Humph to technology. The cavemen had it right all along. A good solid pounding solves so many problems.

But you know nothing is ever that simple, don’t you? He worked at it all day, all afternoon and well into the evening. Once or twice he toyed with the idea of throwing in the towel and just giving up – which, if you know him as well as I do then you can understand and appreciate the intensity and near-impossibility, the desperation of the situation if he of all people was on the edge of giving up. These robotic little beasties have a life of their own, teasing, mocking, threatening, sending messages like “Access forbidden” or “You have no authorization to open this screen” or “Stay away from this damn computer it ain’t yours”. Lots more screaming ensued. Yelling, cursing, jumping around à la Rumpelstiltskin…

All’s well that ends well. One solid day, fierce determination, relentless doggedness and an intense stick-to-it-ness and he finally succeeded. Arms raised, fists punching the air to the glorious sounds of “Yessssss!” and there was distinct cause for celebration. The laptop is not yet officially mine, my own laptop has not yet gone to the shop, but – heaving a heavy sigh of relief - I am now functional once again. And I may have even scored Photoshop.

I haven’t baked for several days but JP certainly deserved a reward. As I was recounting the tale to my friend Renee, she suggested that maybe JP needed an apple pie or….galette. And I knew she was right. Nothing is homier, more calming and comforting after such a trying, stressful day, nothing says I love you more than a fruit pie warm from the oven, redolent of cinnamon. And a galette is even better. Not to forget that apple is his favorite filling in any baked good. I mentioned to JP, now stretched out on the sofa, wallowing in self-satisfaction, that I wanted to make an apple galette for him and he responded: “Only if you don’t say it is for me. Make an apple galette for all of us!”

I made some alterations to my favorite Sweet Pastry Pie Crust by adding a handful of finely ground almonds (a wonderful companion to apple) and replaced the egg with water for a firmer texture. I piled on the apples, as I know they have a tendency to shrink a bit – and who doesn’t want a mouthful of sweet apples in every bite? - tossed them in a bit of flour to thicken the juices, added just enough cinnamon and nutmeg and Bob’s your uncle. It flew together effortlessly, baked up a dream. The crust held the apples and juices in while remaining so tender. And the filling is perfection in every way. A perfect reward, a perfect treat. 

 With a little Salted Butter Caramel Sauce

APPLE GALETTE

For the Sweet Almond Pastry Crust:
1 ¼ cups flour
¼ cup sugar
½ cup finely ground almonds
7 Tbs unsalted butter, cool
3 – 5 Tbs cold water

For the Apple Galette Filling:
3 apples, peeled, cored and cubed (I actually used 3 ½ a mix of Royal Gala & Golden)
1 ½ Tbs flour
2 - 3 Tbs sugar
Scant ½ tsp ground cinnamon
Dash ground nutmeg

Cream for brushing the pastry; sugar (I used granulated brown) for dusting crust

Prepare the Pastry Crust:

Place the flour, sugar and ground almonds in a mixing bowl and stir to combine. Add the butter in cubes; toss to coat the cubes. Using only your thumbs and fingertips, rub the butter into the dry ingredients until the consistency of damp sand and all of the butter has been incorporated. Using a fork, vigorously stir in 3 tablespoons of the cold water; adding the remaining water a tablespoon at a time until all of the dry ingredients are damp and pull together into a ball. Scrape the dough out onto a floured work surface and knead briefly and gently, adding a bit of flour if necessary, until the dough is smooth and no longer sticky. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate to chill while preparing the filling.

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C). Line a baking sheet with a sheet of parchment paper.

Prepare the Apple Filling:

Peel and core the apples and cut into cubes. Place the apple cubes in a bowl and toss with the flour, sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. 

Prepare the Galette:

Remove the Sweet Pastry Crust from the refrigerator and discard the plastic wrap. Place the ball of dough on a floured work surface and gently roll out into a 12-inch diameter circle. Carefully roll the dough around the rolling pin and transfer to the parchment-lined baking sheet. Pile the prepared apple cubes in the center of the pastry circle and spread out to distribute evenly, leaving about 2 - 3 inches of dough free all around the outside edge of the circle, enough to lift up as a border to hold the apples in place.

Begin lifting the edge of the circle of dough up and place against the apples. Lifting the dough up about 3 inches at a time and moving around the galette, the dough “flaps” will overlap. Brush the folds of dough where they overlap with a little of the cream and “glue” down, pressing in place gently. Continue all around the galette. Brush the crust all over with cream and dust with sugar. 

Bake the galette in the preheated oven for about an hour or until the crust is a nice golden brown and the filling is bubbly. Remove from the oven to a cooling rack and allow to cool before slicing and serving.

This is a fabulous treat as is for breakfast, brunch or snack. Add ice cream, a good Salted Butter Caramel Sauce or whipped cream for a wonderful dessert.

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iPad 128GB now Available in Philippines Apple Store

Apple added the 128GB iPad Retina Display to their current line-up, this is good news for those iPad users who want more than 64GB storage capacity on their iPad's.

And here are the prices of iPad Retina Display...

You can now order online at Apple Philippine Online Store, today and get the standard 3-5 days shipping time, oh! while your shopping for it you might also want get the smart cover for it, and be one of those persons who got the new iPad Retina with a huge 128GB on it.

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GALETTE DES ROIS WITH VANILLA BEAN APPLE PASTRY CREAM

IN THE BLEAK MIDWINTER

In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, 

Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; 

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, 

In the bleak midwinter, Long ago. 

– Christina Rossetti, 1872 

The steely winter continues. We stay huddled indoors, no desire to emerge from our cosy cocoon and no longing to spend more time than necessary out in this intemperate weather. No snow to brighten, no snow to gladden and excite, drawing us outdoors like wide-eyed children, bundled up against the chill, damp mittens tossing snowballs at each other. Simply gray days, indecisive weather, no cheer. Mornings spent cooking, afternoons lolling about, evenings in front of the tv, weekends watching rugby, this bleak midwinter is so perfectly formed for family time and for eating. Husband has a good old-fashioned Pot au Feu simmering on the stovetop, hearty and comforting, and I attempt to perfect my puff pastry, my Galette des Rois.

It was late November, I think, and I was thinking about the whole Christmas thing: 

the birth of Christ, the Wizard of Oz, family murders, and quite frankly, I was depressed. 

– Joe Harper, In The Bleak Midwinter, Kenneth Branagh, 1995 

January lies ungraciously halfway along the darkened road of winter. From gorgeous autumn days under a brilliant sun, brisk walks among the fallen leaves in shades of gold and sepia, crimson and copper, October and November energize and invigorate. November into glorious December shines, the occasional misty rain dances among the clouds and reminds me of searching for snails among the thick, waist-high reeds edging the trees surrounding our Italian house, children romping through the fields playing pirates with a great lumbering dog behind. Autumn’s bounty of pumpkins, figs, chestnuts and mushrooms brings the promise of holidays. December hung with colored lights and festive garlands and no matter the slurries of mist spattering against the window and illuminated in the halo of bright streetlights against the inky blackness of the night, we are happy and excited in anticipation, our mouths watering for holiday fare.

Yet January from end to end, from corks popping on the first of the year to my birthday at the end there is little to celebrate. We muddle along, protecting ourselves from the dreariness outside. Son heads back to class, dragging his exhausted body – exhausted from two weeks’ lack of sleep - out of the house. And husband and I cook. And bake. And watch Nouvelle Star and rugby.

Our work weighs on us as we plod into 2013, waiting for grand new adventures to start. Husband dances and sings through the house in a grand effort to remain cheerful and not let his own worries drag him down. I chatter with my alter ego who keeps me in line as we plan projects together, spurring each other on and making each other laugh. Husband and I gather our energy and continue the final touches on the apartment – almost there! And little by little new projects do fall into my lap, take form, and the excitement begins to take hold. And meanwhile, I bake.

I had half of my batch of puff pastry leftover from my Cinnamon Caramelized Apple Galettes des Rois – not to mention half of the apple filling – and was determined to finally make the perfect Galette, even, thin, flaky with a perfectly golden glaze. I had all day ahead of me, the time to plan, organize and work slowly and patiently, normally not my habitual state. I had been craving a pastry cream filling, smooth and luscious. As apples are a favorite of my husband in any dessert, I decided that nothing would be better than the rest of those caramelized apples folded into the perfect vanilla pastry cream. And so I got to work.

GALETTE DES ROI WITH VANILLA BEAN APPLE PASTRY CREAM

Half a batch of Puff Pastry or 21 oz (600 g) puff pastry
Vanilla Bean Pastry Cream (recipe follows)
Egg wash (1 large egg yolk + 1 tsp cold water)
Confectioner’s/Powdered Sugar for dusting
1 fève/bean/charm with 1 paper crown

Prepare the Galette des Rois:

Remove the chilled puff pastry from the refrigerator and measure and cut about half the batch (21 oz / 600 g). Cut into two halves. Working one of the pieces at a time, roll each on a baking-sheet-sized piece of parchment paper into a large square/circle between 1/8 and ¼ - inch thick (the dough can be rolled out thicker for a puffier Galette but I wanted a rather thin Galette with more filling to pastry); the pastry should be large/wide enough to cut out a circle approximately 9 ½ inches (24 cm) diameter. Place a template (a ring mold, ring of a springform pan or even a dinner plate) on the pastry dough and, using a sharp knife carefully and slowly cut around the template forming a circle, being careful not to stretch or pull the dough.

Since Galettes are not baked in a pan or mold, the size can vary as you like.

Cover each of the two puff pastry rounds with a piece of plastic wrap and refrigerate while preparing the pastry cream.

VANILLA BEAN PASTRY CREAM

Smaller batch Pastry Cream:
2 Tbsp. cornstarch
6 Tbs (90 g) sugar
1 large egg
2 large egg yolks
2 Tbs (30 g) unsalted butter (preferably at room temperature)
Small pinch salt
1 cup (250 ml) whole milk (I used 2% low fat)
½ tsp vanilla or ½ a vanilla bean, split down the center, seeds scraped out

Larger batch Pastry Cream:
3 Tbs cornstarch
½ cup (100 g) sugar
1 large whole egg
3 large egg yolks
2 Tbs (30 g) unsalted butter (preferably at room temperature)
Pinch salt
2 cups (500 ml) milk (I use 2% low fat)
1 tsp vanilla or 1 vanilla bean, split down the center, seeds scraped out

Sift the cornstarch into a medium-large heatproof bowl and stir or whisk with half the sugar. Add the whole egg and yolks and whisk until smooth and thick.

Place the butter, the remaining sugar, the pinch of salt, the milk and both the vanilla bean pod and the seeds (if using a bean) in a saucepan and bring just to the boil. Remove from the heat.

Pour the hot milk into the egg mixture in a slow stream a ladleful at a time, whisking constantly so that the eggs do not curdle or begin to cook; this will gradually heat the eggs. Once all of the hot milk has been added to the egg mixture, pour it all back into the casserole and return to a very low heat. Whisking constantly, bring the cream to a gentle boil and cook for 2 to 3 minutes. The pastry cream may thicken rapidly but cooking for 2 minutes or so eliminates the cornstarch flavor.

If using liquid vanilla extract, add it to the cooked pastry cream. If using the vanilla bean, remove the pod and discard; the dark speckles seen in my pastry cream are the seeds.

I added and stirred in the cinnamon caramelized apple chunks leftover from my Caramelized Apple Galettes des Rois – about 2 apples of chunks.

Immediately pour and scrape the pastry cream into a clean heatproof bowl, cover with plastic wrap, pushing the plastic onto the surface of the cream to keep a skin from forming. Allow the cream to cool slightly as you prepare the puff pastry; do not prepare this too far in advance or cool too much as the pastry cream must still be soft and creamy enough to easily spread on the puff pastry round.

Assemble the Galette:

Remove the two pastry rounds from the refrigerator and discard the plastic. Choose one round to be the bottom of the galette and, leaving it on the parchment-lined baking sheet, gently press the edges out a bit with your fingers to enlarge the circle slightly. Mound enough of the cooled vanilla bean pastry cream filling in the center of the disc of dough to a thickness of about ½ inch (1 cm) but no more than ¾ inch, leaving about a ½ inch (1 cm) – 3/4 inch border of dough free around the edges. Press a fève, a ceramic charm of some sort, or even an old-fashioned dried bean or a coin into the filling, if desired.

Brush the edge all around with a light coating of egg wash (too wet and the top disc may slide during baking). Gently place the second disc of dough on top of the filling placing the top and bottom discs’ edge to edge (so the edges meet all the way around), gently stretching the top disc if needed so the edges line up. Press to seal tightly, pressing to have at least one finger width of pastry around all the edges well sealed.

Using a sharp knife held perpendicular to the table, cut into the side edges of the dough to create a scalloped edge all around to the cakes. Now carefully carve a design into the top of the cakes (not too deeply into the dough), making a couple or few small vents through the dough. Brush the top and sides of the galette lightly with egg wash. Place the baking tray in the refrigerator for the time the oven takes to preheat.

Preheat oven to 425°F (220°C).

Place the baking tray with the Galette in the hot oven and bake for 20 minutes until the pastry is puffed up and golden.

Reduce the oven temperature to 400°F (200°C) and continue baking for an additional 25 - 30 minutes until the top and the sides of the pastry are golden and crisp and the pastry is well risen. If you think the pastry is browning too quickly, simply lay a piece of foil over the top.

Remove the Galette from the oven and move the rack up one notch. Generously dust the entire top surface of the Galette with powdered sugar (using a sieve or sifter) then place the pastry back in the oven. Now bake for around 5 minutes until the sugar has turned to a golden and very shiny glaze. Stand next to your oven and watch because once you have the perfect glaze it can very quickly, in the flash of an eye, burn! You must watch so you can pull it out of the oven just as the last of the top turns a gorgeous shiny deep golden and not leave it one second longer.

Remove the Galette from the oven and slide the parchment paper off onto a cooling rack. Allow the Galette to cool before serving.

If serving a Galette des Rois with a fêve inside, make sure there is a child under the table while the host cuts the Galette and then passes each slice as the child calls out whom to serve. Have a paper crown ready to crown the King or Queen who finds the charm!

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