Blueberry Hibiscus Panna Cotta with Wild Blackberry Swirl

FORAGING

On the motionless branches of some trees, autumn berries hung like clusters of coral beads, 

as in those fabled orchards where the fruits were jewels . . . 

– Charles Dickens 

It was a beautiful day. Certainly not a day for sitting inside, even with the windows thrown open. This was not a day for work, for burying one’s head underneath a pile of papers and a heap of ideas. No, this was a glorious day for heading out of town, for a brisk country walk. This was a day for liberating both body and soul, getting a bit of fresh air and just thinking of other things. Little did we realize just what we would discover.

JP wanted to see the storks. There is a secluded, wild area, a bird reserve where storks gather and breed, high up on the perches built especially for them in the marshes outside of Nantes. Just slip on boots and wade thigh-high among the grasses and reeds and you will surely come upon families nesting. But a cross between having lost our rubber boots and having lost our map and nature guide book in the move (or not quite being able to put our fingers on them), and after circling around in the countryside a bit, we pulled the care over to the side of the road, climbed out, leashed Marty and just dove into the trees, taking the first path we came across.

An unexpected hot wind was blowing against us as we made our way past the cows and deep into pastureland. Marty, unused to the harsh conditions of the great outdoors as he is these days, not having really adventured outside with us for many months, was weaving in and out among the prickly grass, lifting his short legs as high as possible in a failed attempt to bypass the sharpness of the flora. He dashed for the rare spots of shade where he would plop down and roll around in the grass to cool down. But happy he was to be outside and off the leash! We eventually came to the edge of a wide field and discovered a narrow river or deep stream edged with thorny bushes thick with leaves. An opening in the greenery and JP pushed Marty into the drink once, twice, thrice, forcing him to bathe and cool off.

We walked along the bushes, around the edge of the field and lo and behold what do we spy? Wild blackberries plump and ripe from the sun and the heat! We picked a few and popped them into our mouths. “Let’s pick some!” I shouted to him, thinking of my friend Nancy Baggett and her foraged berries. “But we don’t have anything to collect them in!” he shouted back, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “But I have a bag that I brought a snack in!” I answered back to his utter delight. (Thank heavens someone thinks to pack snacks!). And so we dove in and brought home over a pound of wild blackberries, our fingers black and sticky with juice.

What to make? We batted a few ideas around until finally I mentioned Panna Cotta. I know how he loves Panna Cotta.

BLUEBERRY HIBISCUS PANNA COTTA with Wild Blackberry Coulis

Blackberry Coulis:

1 lb (500 g) blackberries, cleaned
1 - 2 Tbs granulated white sugar and more to taste

Select and put aside 6 or 12 whole blackberries for decorating/serving.

The coulis can be prepared one of two ways:

Either

1) Cook the blackberries with 1 tablespoon of the sugar over very low heat, pressing and mashing the blackberries as they cook until soft and the sugar is dissolved, about 8 – 10 minutes. Add more sugar, one teaspoon at a time, until the berries and juice is sweet enough and to your liking (how much sugar you add will depend on the natural sweetness of the berries as well as how sweet you like them. If mixing with the panna cotta, it is better to under-sweeten them. Once cooked, allow the berries to cool for about ten minutes or so, then press through a fine strainer, pushing them through with a soft spatula until only seeds are left; discard the seeds and impurities. Taste the resulting liquid coulis and again add a bit more sugar if desired.

Or

2) Purée the berries in a blender or with an emulsion mixer. Cook the berries over very low heat with one tablespoon of the sugar until the sugar is dissolved (if they are very juicy, you can cook for a few minutes, stirring or whisking, until slightly thickened. Strain the berries through a fine mesh strainer, pushing them through with a soft spatula until only seeds are left; discard the seeds and impurities. Taste the resulting liquid coulis and again add a bit more sugar if desired.

Allow the coulis to cool. This can be done ahead of time and chilled in the refrigerator before preparing the panna cotta.

Blueberry Hibiscus Panna Cotta:

3 cups (750 ml) cream or a combination of heavy cream, light cream/half-and-half and milk, either whole or lowfat
2 tsps (1/4 oz, 8 g) unflavored gelatin powder
½ cup (100 g) sugar, 1 tsp replaced with 1 tsp blueberry hibiscus sugar (or similar) - alternately, use all white granulated sugar and make vanilla panna cotta

In a medium-sized, heavy saucepan, place half (about 1 ½ cups) of the cold cream or cream-milk blend; sprinkle the gelatin on top and gentle press down into the liquid with the back of a spoon or whisk. Allow to sit for 5 minutes to soften.

After the 5 minutes, turn the heat under the saucepan to low and gently allow the liquid to warm; once warm allow to cook for 5 minutes, whisking constantly, until the gelatin has dissolved completely (you won’t see anymore golden spots on the surface of the liquid). Do not allow the liquid to boil.

Remove 1 tablespoon of the white sugar from the half-cup and replace with the 1 tablespoon of the flavored sugar. Add both the sugar and the remaining cream or cream-milk blend to the saucepan and heat. Continue cooking over low heat, whisking constantly, until completely warmed through and the sugar has dissolved. Do not allow the mixture to boil. Stir in the vanilla.

Let the panna cotta mixture cool to tepid or room temperature before pouring into serving glasses.

Once the coulis is cooled and the panna cotta is at least warm or tepid, you can assemble the desserts. Have 6 or 8 glasses (depending on how much panna cotta you like to serve as a dessert – I made 6), transparent ramekins or cups ready. Pour 2 tablespoons of the blackberry purée/coulis in the bottom of each glass. Place the panna cotta liquid in a container with a spout, like a large measuring cup, for example; pouring from a spouted container simply allows dividing the liquid between the glasses with more ease and less mess. Carefully and slowly fill each glass with panna cotta almost but not quite up to the rim or as much as desired for one serving. If poured slowly, the dark coulis will swirl into the lighter panna cotta (see photos).

Cover each glass tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for several hours to overnight to set. 

To serve, simply drizzle a bit of the blackberry coulis on each panna cotta, top with one or two blackberries and serve. Leftover coulis is perfect on yogurt, ice cream or cake.

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Passover Lemon Almond Sponge Cake with Warm Lemon Sauce

PASSOVER

My parents were the model of discreetness. Social, well-known and very involved with our local synagogue, family mealtimes were nonetheless private affairs, the six of us finding ourselves around the dinner table every night without guests, friends, family or company of any sort. The food was plentiful but plain, a mix of Russian Jewish cooking, all-American meat-and-potatoes cuisine and 1970’s convenience foods. The holidays in our home followed form and were low-key and simple, never much hoopla or decoration, rarely a lot of special cooking or baking filling our home with culinary memories.

Passover was the exception. The Jewish festival, joyous in its commemoration of the Jews’ exodus from slavery in Egypt towards the Promised Land, was a treat because we went to celebrate – and eat – at the Rosenberg’s house. Mrs. Rosenberg was the Jewish Mama extraordinaire, overseeing her kosher kitchen and her family with love, tradition, an iron fist and a huge personality. And her cooking was everything that my own mother’s was not: extraordinary and delicious! Her Apple-Noodle Kugel warm from the oven, dense and just sweet with a crisp cinnamon-sugar topping, was my ultimate comfort food; I loved it so much that she made a huge baking pan of it just for me as a special Bat Mitzvah gift! She was a legendary cook in our small Jewish community, so spending Passover at her home was sure to mean a fabulous meal, an event looked forward to eagerly by a happy eater such as I.

A dinner with family and relatives.

The rules concerning what is to be eaten and, more importantly, what cannot be eaten by Jews for the duration of the 8-day festival is extremely strict. Jews are forbidden to eat chometz, any food containing barley, wheat, rye, oats, and spelt. No leavening is allowed. The interdiction of these ingredients symbolizes the fact that the Hebrews had no time to either wait for these five grains to grow or to let their baked bread rise as they made a hurried escape from Egypt. Ashkenazi Jews, whose origins are in Europe, also avoid eating corn, rice, peanuts, and legumes while the Sephardi Jews of Northern Africa and Spain do permit them. The days leading up to the holiday thus consist of an intense and thorough cleaning of one’s home in order to rid even the tiniest trace of each and every one of these foods. Followed, of course, by the cooking and baking of dishes and baked goods specific to and allowed during the holiday.

The first night – and for many the second night as well – of Passover is observed with a very traditional and festive ceremonial meal called a Seder at which the story of the exodus is read aloud. The meal follows a very specific order and is a combination of rituals and symbolic foods; food and the rituals surrounding the preparation and eating of meals are intertwined with each and every Jewish holiday, yet none more so than Passover. The meal, the food placed on the table during the reading of the story and the story itself are woven together and intimately connected. In the center of the table is placed a beautiful, decorative plate holding six symbols necessary to the retelling of the story: maror and chazaret, the bitter herbs, normally horseradish, symbolizing the bitterness and harshness of slavery; zeroa or a roasted lamb shank or bone, symbolizing the Paschal sacrificial lamb that was offered in the great Temple in Jerusalem; charoset, usually a brownish-red mixture of nuts, apples, ground cinnamon and red wine representing the mortar the slaves used to build the Pyramids in Ancient Egypt; karpas such as celery, parsley or lettuce to be dipped into salt water representing the tears of the slaves, the dipping process symbolizing hope and redemption; beitzah, a roasted egg, both a symbol of mourning for the destruction of the Temple as well as a symbol of Spring and thus renewal.

The seventh symbol and the most well-known food of Passover is the matzoh, a special unleavened flatbread of Passover-friendly flour and water which is not only symbolic of our escape from slavery and the 40 years spent wandering through the wilderness, but it is eaten as a reminder of what we were running from, a life of slavery and poverty thus inspiring humility and the true appreciation of our freedom. A plate covered with a decorative cloth holding a stack of three matzot is placed on the Seder table next to the Seder plate, each one playing a very specific role during the meal. And finally, the last symbol, near the Seder plate and the matzoh, is placed Elijah’s cup filled with wine; this is for the Prophet Elijah whose visit is said to precede the coming of the Messiah.

This year, I actually made my own homemade matzoh following this wonderful recipe on Leite’s Culinaria. Easy and quite a lot of fun, it made matzoh, while not looking like the boxed we are used to, was absolutely so delicious that even my men who dislike matzoh with a passion, have been enjoying it immensely! Even if you do not celebrate Passover, these make fabulous crispy, thin crackers perfect for dip!

Mrs. Rosenberg’s holiday meal – her Passover Seder - would invariably begin with a bowl of homemade chicken soup with hand-shaped matzoh balls, always inspiring hours of debate over the quality of firm versus fluffy matzoh balls, followed by her magnificent brisket, a rich, root-vegetable-laden beef stew. The brisket would be served with matzoh farfel kugel, a seasoned savory baked pudding made with crushed matzoh, matzoh meal, onions and eggs as well as green vegetables, mashed potatoes and homemade Kaiser rolls, matzoh meal replacing the flour. Dessert was a traditional Passover sponge cake and a luxurious dried fruit compote, long-simmered prunes, apricots and raisins. A traditional feast filled with traditional foods found on so many Passover tables across the country. We would all joyously sing and laugh throughout the meal, the children waiting impatiently for the search for the Afikomen, the middle matzoh of the stack on the holiday table, which was hidden during the meal by Mr. Rosenberg and inspiring an animated search by the youngsters, the winner receiving a small gift, usually a fifty-cent piece.

Cooking and eating during Passover is a meticulous, studied affair, and many of us go out of our way to prepare special foods. Those Passover meals have left a warm memory and following in Mrs. Rosenberg’s culinary footsteps is never easy. Every year as this holiday approaches, I scour a multitude of cookbooks old and new for Passover-friendly recipes – flour and wheat products, grains and leavening agents are all forbidden. There is no way that I can go eight days without sweets in the house! As my own mother was not a baker, I grew up eating canned coconut macaroons and jelly smeared on matzoh to soothe my sweet tooth. All grown up, I spend quite a bit of time every year researching recipes and baking. This year, I was determined to create a cake that one-ups the old-fashioned, traditional Passover sponge cake, that inimitable standby, that emblematic myth of the holiday. Usually dry. Usually flavorless. A risky choice.

I scoured old cookbooks, played around with a few recipes, found a box of potato flour in my grocery store as I realized that all of my boxes of matzoh meal and matzoh flour had disappeared in the move. I had already made the Lemon Sauce and wanted something to accompany that smooth, luscious, tangy sauce. Lemons, almonds and a splash of vanilla. And I got beating! Egg whites, that is.

The cake was perfect! It rose to dizzying heights! Light and fluffy like a great Passover sponge cake, the ground almonds, nonetheless, produced a sponge denser and moister than average. The lemon and almond flavors were delicate yet present and the beautiful, smooth, tangy Lemon Sauce complimented it all to perfection. Whether for Passover or any other time of the year, this cake deserves a celebration!

Other festive Passover – but not only – sweets from Life’s a Feast:

Chocolate Almond Torte

Strawberry Mascarpone Cheesecake

Chocolate Espresso Pecan Torte

Chocolate Chestnut Fondant (omit the flour)






For more fabulous Passover recipes, visit these favorite blogs: Labna & Food Wanderings

PASSOVER LEMON ALMOND SPONGE CAKE With Warm Lemon Sauce

4 large eggs, separated
1 cup sugar
Finely grated zest and juice from ½ lemon, preferably organic or untreated
¼ tsp vanilla extract
½ cup ground almonds
½ cup potato flour
Pinch salt + few drops lemon juice for whites
Handful slivered blanched almonds to decorate, optional

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Have ready a springform pan – I used a 7 ¼ inch-diameter x 4 inch-high springform but a regular 8-inch pan is fine, too.

Separate the eggs; place the yolks in a large mixing bowl and the whites in a medium bowl, preferably plastic or metal. Add a pinch salt and a few drops lemon juice to the whites and set aside.

Using an electric mixer, beat the egg yolks for a couple of minutes until thick and pale. Add the sugar and continue beating until thick and creamy. Beat in the zest and juice of ½ a lemon and the vanilla extract until well blended and thick. Quickly beat in the ground almonds.

Using very clean beaters, beat the egg whites on low speed for 30 seconds, then increase the speed to high; beat the whites until thick, glossy and peaks hold. Do not overbeat until the whites are dry. Using a spatula, gently but firmly fold the stiff whites into the lemon almond cake batter in 3 additions. Fold in the potato flour with the third addition of the whites in order to avoid overworking the batter. Fold in the whites just until all the lumps of white have disappeared.

Gently pour the batter into the springform pan. Dust with a couple of tablespoons slivered almonds.

Bake in the preheated oven 30 – 45 minutes, depending on your oven and pan size. The cake is done when puffed, set and golden. Gently press on the top of the cake and it should feel set, much like an angel or sponge cake. A tester inserted in the center should come out dry.

Remove the pan from the oven onto a cooling rack and allow to cool before unmolding. Carefully run a long, thin blade around the sides to loosen the cake while still warm.

Serve the Lemon Almond Cake with Warm Lemon Sauce.

WARM LEMON SAUCE

2 cups water
1 cup sugar
Finely grated zest and juice from 1 lemon, preferably organic or untreated
2 Tbs cornstarch or potato starch (for Passover)
2 Tbs butter, cubed and softened 

Bring the water to a boil.

Sift the cornstarch or potato starch into the sugar in a medium heatproof bowl and stir. Whisk in the boiling water then, when smooth, return to the pan and continue cooking over low heat, whisking or stirring, for 8 to 10 minutes until thickened to the consistency of a sauce. Whisk in the lemon zest and juice. Remove from the heat and whisk in the butter a cube at a time until the buttered is melted and incorporated and the mixture is smooth. Strain through a mesh strainer if necessary. Store in a jar in the refrigerator; to reheat, simply put the gelled sauce in a saucepan and heat very gently over low, stirring or whisking constantly, until pouring consistency (not too runny) and warm. Strain.

Serve warm.

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BAKED CHOCOLATE TARTLETS WITH SALTED BUTTER CARAMEL SAUCE

STARTING OVER – STEP 4 (DARE!)

Your work is going to fill a large part of your life,
and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work.
And the only way to do great work is to love what you do.
- Steve Jobs

“I’m exhausted,” he sighs as he plops down onto the sofa and rhythmically begins rubbing his temples, weariness spread across his entire body. “I don’t know up from down and the Rat Race just makes me crazy!” Looking for comfort, a bit of reassurance and maybe one of her good, old-fashioned pep talks, he waits for her to decide what to say. Ironing, when not baking, has always been her way to center herself, focus her thoughts and clear her head, and once again he finds her in the corner of the livingroom, steam curling around her head, ready to listen. You see, instead of taking a much-needed and deserved six-month’s rest, he dove right in, grabbing at projects right and left, trying his hand and heart at this and that, looking for the perfect fit, the next step in his starting over.

Back and forth, back and forth; her arm follows the path of the iron hypnotically. With each wrinkle of the smooth cloth that disappears under the searing pressure, so goes a wrinkle of stress, a spot of confusion, one pessimistic thought. She glances his way but briefly, yearning to make a connection yet avoiding direct eye contact – his eyes, though, are turned towards the window, staring off into some hazy distance on the horizon – and begins listing for him all of their accomplishments, reminding him of their dreams. She goes on, discoursing on how this crazy, modern world and all of those sadly caught up in the rules and limitations set by some noisy majority, a crowd of strangers out to instill a sense of guilt and self-castigation, mean little to them and those willing to live by their own set of rules and happiness. “This is our adventure!” she exclaims. “You know deep down that it will be all right. We are on the right track.” Her soothing voice reaches towards him, ringing an odd but savory truth. And he pushes himself up and gets back to work. She turns off the iron, calmer now, and…


And she got right into the rhythm, inspired by his work ethic and stick-to-itiveness: she succeeded in putting herself on a schedule (sort of), fixing goals and deadlines (mostly kept), staying off of social media and away from her friends during her working hours (well….) and actually getting things done (yes!). After a month, a very long month away, she is buckling down, with his tacit encouragement and his calming presence (not to mention his iron eye) and has begun to attend to her work seriously: writing and submitting, magazine articles, recipes, book projects and proposals. Nose to the grindstone, she is surprised when she gets to the end of her day, crawling between the cool sheets, and realizes that she accomplished what she had set out to do. She smiles to herself, half satisfied, and mentally notes what she will attempt tomorrow.

Your time is limited so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.
- Steve Jobs

We are all home together again, JP and I and both the boys. And Marty, happy dog. Somehow, now that the boys are grown, they are less reluctant to spend an evening in with the parents, one big happy family. We are back to cooking meals, real meals, and eating at the kitchen table, discussing projects and plans, trips and school. With, of course, the occasional pizza dinner in front of a good (or not so good) movie. Mealtime as a family has always been our strong point, as odd a family as we are with our rather unconventional lifestyle. Through thick and thin, adolescent doldrums, arguments and disagreements, come rain or shine we have always gathered around the dinner table of an evening, neutral territory. Leaving our differences behind, we come to the meal ready to chat, laugh and learn. The topics are anything that we dream of: tales of country, king and wars; stories of school, work or people; memories of time shared, spent or traveled; places seen, experienced and lived.

Simon has been gone for a year and a half, Clem for two months and I for one. As things slowly return to normal, the two remaining are pulled out of their slump and things begin to find their rhythm. JP and I are neck deep in our individual projects, Clem is back to school and work fulltime after an exciting and successful summer interning, designing, creating, networking, hobnobbing. Simon, finally returned from his volunteer stint in New Orleans and then Florida where he has been taking care of his grandmother and her dog, has been researching, planning and organizing the next stage of his life. So we have all been busy, busy, busy. And now, on top of everything, we are planning our drive down to Italy where I am headed to From Plate to Page and where we will be leaving Simon for an internship in Milan.


I haven’t had the time to update our personal travelogue, my heartfelt, comforting advice on Starting Over… but believe me, we have been rushing madly forward, devising plans, working on several projects in parallel, our fingers in so many pies. Something, anything has got to click. And it will. Like cats, we always tend to fall on our feet and what is life if not an adventure? You see, I’ve been overseeing my home, rearranging what was disarranged while I was away, helping to get Simon on his feet through careful negotiation, some loud arguments, weighing options, group decisions and gentle hand holding. I listen to JP as he recounts tales of his research or clinical adventures, lets off steam or discusses opportunities. I do laundry while waiting for ideas to gestate and take form, drink coffee and eat cake while thumbing through a mindless novel when I need to refuel or frustration needs to be fended off, and I write. And write. And write. Happily and oh so luckily I have girlfriends out there in the world who support me, encourage me, advise and inform me. We all need guidance and kind words, and that is part of Step 4…for who can Start Over if one doesn’t dare….dare to venture out into worlds unknown, reach out and make new contacts, call attention to oneself? He is doing it as well as I, each in our own domains and our own ways.

Chocolate is a perfect food, as wholesome as it is delicious, a beneficent restorer of exhausted power. It is the best friend of those engaged in literary pursuits.
- Baron Justus von Liebig

And in between my many projects, my writing, Plate to Page planning and organizing, I have been pulling myself out of a slump both writing and baking. Man, as they say, cannot live on bread alone and that usually means chocolate. Back in the mood to bake, I have been pampering my family with sweet treats almost everyday. Macarons, Pecan Caramel Chocolate Cake, fudgy brownies (to come) and they have been gobbling it all up, pleased as punch that crazy mom and her endless baking are back! And with all of our projects, we certainly need to refuel and all the good things chocolate does to body and soul are the ideal nourishment.

It has been shown as proof positive that carefully prepared chocolate is as healthful a food as it is pleasant; that it is nourishing and easily digested...
that it is above all helpful to people who must do a great deal of mental work.
- Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

An absolutely stunning recipe, my Baked Chocolate Tartlets begin with a tender, delicate, perfect pie crust based on the French style of replacing granulated sugar with powdered and adding milk to the egg used to bind the dry ingredients into a dough. The filling is mousse-like, light and airy from whipping then brief baking, melting on the tongue in an ethereal cloud yet deep in chocolate flavor like a brownie or flourless cake. And serve these scrumptious, elegant tartlets with a classic Salted Butter Caramel Sauce, a local tradition, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, a dollop of whipped cream or simply with a dusting of powdered sugar. Perfect. Just perfect.


BAKED CHOCOLATE TARTLETS WITH SALTED BUTTER CARAMEL SAUCE

For the Pie Crust:

1 ¾ cups (250 g) flour
1/3 cup (40 g) powdered/icing sugar
8 Tbs (115 g) unsalted butter, slightly softened, cubed
1 large egg yolks
Scant ¼ cup (50 ml) milk, slightly more if needed

Sift or whisk together the flour and powdered sugar in a large mixing bowl. Drop in the cubes of butter and, using the tips of your fingers and thumb, rub the butter and flour together quickly until all of the butter is blended in and there are no more lumps. Add the egg yolk and the milk and, using a fork, blend vigorously until all of the flour/sugar/butter mixture is moistened and starts to pull together into a dough.

Scrape the dough out onto a floured work surface and, using the heel of one hand, smear the dough inch by inch away from you in short, hard, quick movements; this will completely blend the butter in. Scrape up the smeared dough and, working very quickly, gently knead into a smooth, homogeneous ball. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 20 to 30 minutes.

Lightly grease with butter the sides and bottoms of 6 individual tartlet tins (4 to 4 ¼ inches/ 10 ½ to 11 cm wide) and place the prepared tins on a baking sheet.

Remove the dough from the refrigerator and unwrap. Working on a floured surface and with the top of the dough kept lightly floured to keep it from sticking to the rolling pin, roll out the dough and line the tins by gently lifting in and pressing down the dough. Trim the edges. Cover the baking tray with the lined tins with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes. This can also be done ahead of time.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

Remove the baking tray from the refrigerator and discard the plastic wrap. Cut or tear squares of parchment paper larger than each tin. Prick each tartlet shell with a fork (not too hard or deep as you don’t want holes going all the way through the dough) and place a square or parchment over each. Weigh down the parchment with pastry weights or dried beans, pushing the beans into the corners. Bake for 15 minutes. Remove from the oven, carefully lift out the parchment squares and beans, pressing the bottoms down with your fingertips if puffed up, and prepare the Chocolate Filling.

For the Chocolate Filling:

3 ½ oz (100 g) good-quality dark bittersweet or semisweet chocolate (70%)
8 Tbs (110 g) unsalted butter
4 large egg yolks + 1 large whole egg
¼ cup (50 g) + 2 Tbs (30 g) granulated white sugar, as needed

Increase the oven temperature to 400°F (200°C).

Melt the butter and chocolate together in a heatproof pyrex bowl over a pan of just simmering water or in a bain marie, stirring gently, until just melted. Remove from the heat and allow to cool slightly. In a large mixing bowl using an electric mixer, beat the egg yolks and the whole egg with the sugar on high speed for 5 minutes until very light, airy and mousse-like. Decrease the beater speed to medium, gradually beat in the melted chocolate and butter in a stream until blended.

Pour into the pre-baked tartlet shells, evenly dividing the chocolate filling in between the 6 tins; using a soup ladle makes this easier. Slide the baking sheet with the 6 filled tins into the oven and bake for 8 minutes or until the top is just set, having formed a slight crust.

Remove from the oven, slide the tarlets off the baking tray and onto a cooling rack and allow to cool.


For the Salted Butter Caramel Sauce (Caramel au Beurre Salé):

1 cup (200 g) granulated white sugar
3 ½ Tbs (50 g) salted butter
1 cup (250 ml) heavy cream

Melt the sugar in a medium-sized saucepan over medium-low heat and cook until completely melted and caramel in color. Lower the heat to low and whisk in the butter in about 3 or 4 additions. Continuing to whisk, add the heavy cream in a slow stream; the caramel may foam up, but keep whisking, as it will calm down once all the cream is added and will turn to… a smooth caramel. Once it is smooth and creamy, remove from the heat and allow to cool at least to tepid before serving.

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Chicken Wings for #GoJunkFood

I was hanging out on twitter a couple of weeks ago and I saw some talk about chicken wings.  Love me some good ole chicken wings.  Remember when you were much, much younger and could go to the bars for 10 cent (where the heck is the “cent” key???) wing night?  Well I do and still to this day that’s how I like my wings.  Fried nice and crispy, smothered in a nice hot sauce that isn’t too thick or too thin but just right…and oh yah, for 10 cents a piece…LOL!!!

Well those days are long gone.  I think I have seen them advertised for 35 cents on special nights but to me that just isn’t the same.  We do have one wing place where the wings are good, especially if you order them well done!  But mostly wings out are a treat and when we do have a craving for them I make them really quick in the oven…watching the waist line you know and then I can have the sauce or the spices (depending on the mood) just right for me…

Chicken Wings

Preheat oven to 400 degrees

Wash wings and remove any feathers that have been left on.
You can cut of the tips and separate them but my family actually fights over the tips (go figure???) so we leave them on. 
Place in a large bowl and toss with about half of the spice/seasoning rub and arrange on a foil lined pan for baking.
Bake for about 40 minutes or until cooked through and golden brown.

Spice/Seasoning Rub for Chicken Wings

1 Tbsp granulated garlic
1/2 tsp onion powder
1/2 tsp black pepper
1-1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1/4 tsp cayenne
1/2 tsp paprika

Hot Sauce for Chicken Wings

1/2 bottle of Frank’s Red Hot Original
1 tsp granulated garlic
1 Tbs melted butter

Half of the wings I tossed with the Hot Sauce and the other half I tossed with the remaining Spice/Seasoning Rub.

These wings are part of the #GoJunkFood quest to take your every day bar food and put your own spin on it. Be sure to visit all of the other bloggers involved…

Elle at Elle’s New England kitchen
Paula at The Dragons Kitchen
Chris at Blog Well Done
Renee at Flamingo Musings
Heather at He Cooks...She Cooks

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SPRING ROLLS & SPICY PEANUT DIPPING SAUCE

STRIP DOWN AND PARTY!


We’ve been eating a lot of cake lately. Chocolate cake and chocolate muffins, butter & egg-rich striped cake, chocolate chip muffins, cookies and macarons. At some point, even I reach my limit, have my fill and crave for something clean, fresh and light. And something that is definitely not cake! Husband walks around patting his tummy and I am feeling the bite of the belt buckle, and someone, I swear, has been sneaking in at night and, scissors, thread and needle in hand, someone has been taking in my jeans. It is time to start thinking of something other than cake.

I step out onto the sidewalk and am kissed by the warmth of Spring. The sun is shining and barely a whisper of a breeze ruffles my hair. I have always preferred Autumn, but after months of steel-gray skies, dreary drizzle that trickles down the neck of my coat and icy winds that bite at my skin, harsh cold winter without even the joy of fluffy, white snow, I am reveling in this beginning of Springtime. But as I pull off my winter coat and hang it back in the closet, as I begin peeling off the layers of sweaters, unwinding the scarf from around my neck, as I peek in one shoe box after another and remind myself just how fabulous a collection of strappy sandals I have, I am starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, I have eaten a little bit too much cake this winter.


Spring will be upon us before we know it and summer will be nipping at her heels. As many of you know, we are off to Florida this summer, the first vacation we will be taking together as a family for a long time. But the point is: we are off to Florida. And Florida means shorts and swimsuits. Long months of icy cold days packed up in layers of fleece hidden under thick, padded, Michelin-man coats and socks over hose under knee-high boots (not to mention the hats and the gloves) and evenings in flannel jammies huddled under a mountain of blankets have left me numb, groggy and a bit on the mushy side. And like the Eskimos, that extra layer of fat is a winter necessity. But Spring is here and summer is right around the corner and it is at times like this that I start flipping through the cookbooks looking for tempting, light, fresh salads and soups, something to cleanse the system and, yes, I dare say, the palate. It’s time to start thinking about baring the arms and the legs and slipping back into last year’s tops, skirts and pants. Ouch! So, dear, what shall it be?


Husband and I go through phases of miso soup. I love the packets of instant red or white miso soup I can pick up at the Asian market along with packets of Udon noodles. On my way home, I’ll swing by the primeurs, the fruit and veg monger if you will, and buy several shitake, plump and chocolatey brown, a handful of tender, crunchy snow peas all dressed in bright, cheery green, some spring onions and a fragrant bouquet of fresh coriander. A few minutes to bring the water to a boil, add the miso mix, sliced shitake, snow peas and noodles and simmer until everything is cooked to perfection. Divide into two bowls, toss on shopped coriander and sliced spring onions and we are sipping light and flavorful soup, a warming Winter meal when it is time for something lighter than cream sauces, pasta and casseroles.

Well, this time I was in the mood for spring rolls. There is an Asian (Chinese? Vietnamese more than likely) restaurant right next door to my Asian market and they have a take-out counter. Whenever I get the craving, I pop in and pick up a couple of fresh, cool spring rolls, rice wrappers stuffed to bursting with thin rice noodle, crunchy bean sprouts and carrot strips, bits of cooked chicken and butterflied shrimp all flavored with fresh mint leaves and chopped peanuts. The girl behind the counter will add a tiny plastic bag of golden dipping sauce to my purchase. Or I’ll enjoy these babies dipped in spicy sweet chili sauce. But I decided to go wild and make my own spring rolls and my own dipping sauce.


Along with the gorgeous sunny weather comes plans for Food Blogger Connect 2010! Remember Food Blogger Connect 09? Wow was it ever fantastic! A weekend spent with fellow food bloggers from near and far sharing information, plans, ideas, laughter, good times and good food. Well, don’t think that once is ever enough for something this good. So we have planned an even bigger, better Food Blogger Connect for this June! Spread out over 3 days, it will be THE Food Blogger event of the year! Just look at that line up of speakers! You can get loads of information and tips from the biggest and the very best! Check out the itinerary! 3 days chock-full and jam-packed with exciting, informative roundtables and hands-on workshops specifically designed for the food blogger covering everything from finding your writing voice to food styling and photography to networking and monetizing your blog! There will even be a star-studded panel letting you in on the secrets of Food Blog to Book/Magazine! And all of this and more – prizes, prop swap and awards – a wine tasting, barbecue, cocktails and teatime plus fabulous meals in these beautiful London hot spots. Spaces are limited and food bloggers from all over Europe are already snapping up tickets, so give our Food Blogger Connect blog a good once-over then go ahead and register for this fantastic, not-to-be-missed event!

Now, here is a wonderful, tasty recipe to start you on your way to looking and feeling your best for Food Blogger Connect and that great summer vacation!


SPRING ROLLS WITH SPICY PEANUT-HOISIN SAUCE
The sauce is from Annie Somerville’s Everyday Greens

For the Spring Rolls:
9-inch round rice wrappers
Any or all of the following ingredients, as you like:
Rice noodles, cooked, drained, rinsed with cool water & drained again.
Bean sprouts
1 carrot, trimmed, peeled, sliced into thin 2-inch matchsticks
Shredded cooked chicken
2 cooked shrimp per spring roll
Small bunch mint leaves
Lettuce leaves
Peanuts, crushed


Have all of the filling ingredients prepared and lined up on your work surface: vegetables cleaned, trimmed, peeled and sliced as necessary, shrimp cooked and peeled and butterflied (simply slice down the back almost to the end of the tail but leaving attached then press flat), chicken shredded.

Simply dampen one or two rice wrappers at a time and keep them pressed between damp kitchen towels as you are working. This is only the first time I have made them so I learned as I went and mine were not too perfect. I placed two mint leaves in the center of a damp wrapper, placed twp flattened shrimp nose to nose on top of the mint, then lined up some beans sprouts, cooked and cooled noodles and bits of each and the rest (ok, I forgot the carrot strips and didn’t have chicken and only added lettuce leaves to two, but I’ll get better next time!). Bring the sides of the wrappers in towards the center then roll as tightly as possible being careful not to rip the delicate, fragile wrapper.

Spicy Peanut-Hoisin Sauce:
2 Tbs vegetable oil
1 large shallot, thinly sliced, about ¼ cup
Salt and pepper
½ cup Hoisin sauce
1/3 cup water
½ tsp rice vinegar
½ cup toasted peanuts, chopped
1 tsp sambal (red chili purée) or to taste


Heat the oil in a small frying pan and sautée the shallots with a pinch of salt over medium-high heat until golden and crispy, about 2 minutes. Drain on a paper towel and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Chop and transfer to a small bowl. Add all of the remaining ingredients, adding the sambal to taste. Make sure the sauce is well blended before serving with the spring rolls in tiny sauce bowls.

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SCALLOPS IN CHAMPAGNE CREAM SAUCE WITH TRUFFLE SALT

CHAMPAGNE MEMORIES – PART 1

The feeling of friendship is like that of being comfortably filled with roast beef; love, like being enlivened with champagne.

- Samuel Johnson

The wedding was a thrown-together affair, organized on the run, practically an elopement. “Run over to City Hall, why don’t you, file the papers and pick a date. Any date. You choose.” And I did. Stumbling along in my timid schoolgirl French, I explained that I was to be married. I excitedly pushed the required papers across the chocolate brown counter and chose the first Thursday after the required 3-week wait. A Thursday, the 23rd of the month and my fate would be sealed. I had heard somewhere that getting married on a Tuesday or Thursday was good luck in my religion, so Thursday it was. And it didn’t really matter what day I chose. It wasn’t like there would be a dress to order or a long list of friends and relatives to haggle over, 300 invitations to have engraved and sent out, hotel rooms to reserve, caterer and rock band to arrange. No, it would just be the two of us, a few of his friends and his immediate family. So we really only had ourselves to please. We’d tie the knot at City Hall in front of M. le Maire Adjoint then simply walk back to the house for lunch. Simple as saying “I do!”

Great love affairs start with Champagne and end with tisane.

- Honore de Balzac

So I ran back home to the house we shared and announced the chosen date as soon as he walked in the front door from work. “A Thursday? Why did you pick a Thursday? My parents won’t be able to come; they haven’t closed the shop on a weekday since they opened 35 years ago!” But close the shop they did, tickled pink and excited that their only son was to wed.

I wore white and deep violet blue, bits and pieces picked up here and there, my hair a wild, uncontrollable mass of dark curls. His sister created a gorgeous bouquet all in violet and lavender and cream, thistles and roses and baby’s breath, a bouquet to do any bride proud. He wore a funny old suit, a zoot-suit he dug up from a secondhand store in Paris, black with thin cream stripes, something that suited our crazy madcap adventure, our eccentric outlook on life. His best man came in outrageous red tartan plaid from head to toe, my witness in colorful gypsy garb. And his dog, of course his dog, would sing at the party. And yes she did!


A simple affair it was indeed. The lunch was held at our modest house in the suburbs that we shared with 8 others. I spent the Wednesday in my soon-to-be Mother-in-law’s kitchen baking cakes in the scorching heat, whipping up batches of choux puffs and ratatouille, marinating chicken and trying to stay calm, cool and collected as gorgeous cognac buttercream melted down my arm as I tried desperately to pipe it onto chocolate cake, words garbled as they rushed out of the pastry bag. The lunch itself was a modest affair, all homemade, with bowls of fresh fruit and platters of cheese, laid out on a table dressed all in white, crowned in stunning floral arrangements in jewel-like colors and springtime extravagance, like a cortege of lovely bridesmaids accompanying the bride.

A simple affair, indeed, but there was Champagne for everyone, Champagne à volonté! My in-laws sent over case upon case of the stuff, cool bottles of French Champagne, their gift for this special occasion. Champagne to toast the newly married couple, Champagne to giddily, joyously see us off on our way, into our new life together. So with glasses lifted, glasses clinking, voices raised in celebration, we drank to our health, to our love, to our life together; drank in carefree abundance, laughing and singing, and a simple affair, when served up with Champagne, becomes a splendid affair indeed.

Champagne has never really been my drink. The bubbles tickle my nose, the flavor is just a tad too strong. One glass and I’m light-headed and woozy, two and I’m giggling out of control. At JP’s office holiday parties he pointedly instructs me to stay away from the Champagne as he fears my bubbly-induced silliness and tipsy magpie chattering in front of his employees. No, Champagne only brings out the quirkiness in me, accentuates my idiosyncrasies and is better off left alone. A glass of fruity white wine is just as good, even better, in my opinion, but, then again, Champagne is Champagne. There is a certain mystique surrounding this sparkling, gorgeous, jewel-like libation; it is wrapped up in romance, it lends an air of elegance and cool sophistication, it is enveloped in luxury like a black & white film star draped in silk, fur and diamonds.


Six years ago we moved to Nantes, a city a mere stone’s throw from the ocean, a city known for her abundance of products of the sea, oysters and perch, lobster and periwinkles as well as France’s most famous salt. And sea scallops. Gorgeous, plump, shimmering like pearls, Coquilles St. Jacques are to be found on the market almost all year round, to be simmered or sautéed, baked, gratiné or eaten raw. Richly paired with morels or porcini, delicately seasoned with ginger or saffron, splashed with citrus, sherry vinegar or nolly, drenched in porto or our own Muscadet or served with beurre blanc, à la nantaise or in marmite du pêcheur, scallops are jewels from the ocean, a rare delicacy to be savored on special occasions, no matter how abundant. It is no wonder that Botticelli’s Venus arises from the sea, is borne up from the waves on the half shell of a sea scallop. Voluptuous, alabaster pale Venus, like the scallop, a rich, luxurious, royal treasure from the deep.

A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands.

- Lord Byron

What can be more celebratory, more festive than the pairing of sea scallops and champagne, one so precious, tender, delicate, the other so noble, brilliant, powerful? Seared quickly in the pan, scallops become beautifully golden and crispy on the outside, the inside tender though meaty and dense, the perfect foil for the richest, most flavorful of sauces. Champagne adds something spectacular to a simple cream sauce, a fruity sweetness that astonishes. Add to that the surprising earthiness of the distinguished truffle blended into flecks of salt that recalls the sea, a masculinity that heightens and complements such a feminine sauce and you have something decidedly rich and luxurious. And this dish, though a regional specialty, is so special, so delicious, so festive that I decided to make it to celebrate the 4-year anniversary of Meeta’s blog What’s For Lunch Honey? She is hosting this month’s Monthly Mingle and has chosen Champagne for this event to celebrate this special occasion.


Now, I have met so many wonderful people through food blogging and am lucky enough to count several among my closest friends, and Meeta is one of them and more. Meeta is incredibly talented, as a cook and baker, as a writer and as a food stylist and photographer. She is the rare food blogger that does it all to perfection. Like the finest of champagnes, at the risk of being trite, Meeta is bubbly and delightful, light and joyous yet earthy and rich, a personality to savor, someone truly generous, someone who gives more than she takes. A rare gem indeed, and I am truly lucky to be counted among her friends. So cheers to you Meeta. I raise my glass of bubbly and toast a friend who has given me so much, who has encouraged and supported me, instructed and mentored me, made me laugh and shared my tears, a true friend. Congratulations on 4 years of food blogging and wishing you many more. Your blog is a wonder and a pleasure to read.


SEA SCALLOPS IN CHAMPAGNE CREAM SAUCE WITH TRUFFLE SALT
Served over fresh pasta

4 sea scallops per person for main course, 3 per person for starter *
3 or 4 medium-sized shallots, about 1 ½ oz (50 g)
1 cup (250 ml) white champagne
1 cup (250 ml) cream
Freshly ground black pepper
Olive oil or butter for the scallops
Sea salt with truffles
7 oz (200 g) fresh pasta per person
Olive oil and freshly squeezed lemon juice to season to taste

* This recipe easily makes enough sauce to serve 4 people. I served 2 and had sauce leftover for another dish the following lunch.

In a large pot, start the water boiling for the pasta. If it comes to a boil before you are ready to make the pasta, simply lower the heat and allow to very slowly simmer until the sauce and scallops are nearly cooked.

Rinse the scallops then pat dry with paper towels.

Peel, trim and mince the shallots. Place the minced shallots with the champagne in a small, heavy bottom saucepan and, over medium heat, cook until the champagne is almost (but not quite) evaporated, stirring often. There should be just a tablespoon or two of champagne left in the pan. Lower the heat under the saucepan and add the cream, stirring, and allow to cook just a few minutes until slightly thickened. Season with freshly ground black pepper.

Meanwhile, when the champagne is partly evaporated, start the scallops. Heat a skillet or frying pan over medium heat and add just enough olive oil or butter to grease the bottom and, when hot, add the scallops and allow to cook, turning occasionally, until golden and crispy on both sides and cooked through (you will see the scallops turn from translucent to opaque white all the way through), lowering the heat if the scallops look browned enough on the top and bottom but don’t appear cooked completely through. This should take up to 5 minutes per side for very thick scallops.

If the sauce is done before the scallops are cooked through, simply turn off the heat under the sauce and then very gently reheat the sauce when ready to serve, if necessary.

Cook the fresh pasta (which only takes 3 minutes or so) in salted boiling water then drain. Place the pasta in a bowl and add a few glugs of olive oil, the juice of about half a lemon or to taste and a good grinding of black pepper. Toss and dress the plates with a serving of pasta each. Place a few spoonfuls of the Champagne Sauce on the pasta then place the scallops on top of the sauce. Sprinkle the scallops with Truffle Salt and serve accompanied by a glass with extra sauce if desired.


Serve with a glass of chilled Champagne.


Cheers!

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