Oh, it's Spring. What joy.

In honor of this turning of the seasons, I bring you a light little piece of fluff-- the Pavlova.

When I was cooking at a little restaurant in the Mission called the Moa Room, my favorite Kiwi and boss, Chef Jan Gardner often let me run off and do my own thing with our desserts, which was rather brave of her. But not so when she felt the call to make her Pavlova-- the most famous dessert to ever come out of New Zealand. I would stand back to watch her work, asking her to say things like "milk" and "bottle" so that I might be better able to imitate her accent as well as her dessert-making technique. She was a very patient woman who only occasionally would ask a co-worker if he or she wouldn't mind punching me in the neck.

This pleasant breath of fresh air is rarely seen on San Francisco dessert menus, which I think is a pity. It is as light and airy as the dancing of its namesake, the most famous of all ballerinas, Anna Pavlova.



There is some argument as to the origin of this dessert. Australians claim it was birthed by Herbert Sachse of the Hotel Esplanade, Perth, Australia, citing in 1935 that the dish was "as light as Pavlova." She stayed at the hotel while on tour in 1929. It just took him six years to come up with something clever to say about it.

New Zealand has an earlier, similar claim coming out of Wellington in 1926, when a hotel chef created a dish inspired by the shape of the touring dancer's white tutu with green cabbage roses and frothy netting. I'm no social archaeologist, but I'll just bet the farm he was gay.

Well, I love Australians, but I am siding with my friends from New Zealand on this one.

Pavlova

Jan Gardner shied away from kiwifruit, most likely because they are not echt New Zealand. To her, a kiwi is the smaller, non-extinct cousin of the moa. The Chinese Gooseberry arrived in the land of the dead moa from, unsurprisingly, China in 1904. The name "kiwifruit" was originally a marketing ploy. One that has worked all too well. Though this meringue happily supports a wide variety of fruit, I have used the kiwi because the original dish, as far as I can tell, contained them. Remember those green cabbage roses.



This is not Jan's recipe. I never got it. I could just punch myself in the neck for not asking for
it. The recipe listed below is a culling of several.

For a great run down on how to approach a meringue, read Shuna's take on the Pavlova.

Ingredients:

For the Pavlova:

4 large egg whites, room temperature
1 cup of superfine sugar (you can make this out of table sugar by whizzing it in your Cuisinart.)
1 teaspoon white vinegar
1 tablespoon corn starch
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract. Tradition does not call for this, I just like it in my meringue.

For the Topping:

3/4 cup heavy whipping cream
1/4 cup buttermilk. Again, this is not traditional. I just prefer a bit of tang to compliment the
über-sweetness of the meringue.
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Fresh fruit. Tart is good. Things like kiwifruit, strawberries, raspberries, beri beri. I don't care.
Passion fruit is really amazing with it, too.

Procedure:

1. Pre-heat oven to 300 F.

2. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Create and cut out a separate circle of parchment paper about 7 inches in diameter. Cut out a matching circle of cardboard. Attach the parchment circle to cardboard with a smear of corn syrup or whatever you've got handy to adhere. I'll bet even Elmer's glue would work, though I would not recommend it. (Note: this cut out circle business isn't absolutely necessary, but I find it helps me get a cleaner edge on the meringue.)

3. In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk egg whites at slow speed (Thanks for the tip, Shuna), gradually increasing the speed as the volume of the whites increase. When the whites begin to hold a soft peak, add the sugar a little at a time to dissolve. Increase the speed and whip until the mixture is silken and holds stiff peaks.

4. Having made a slurry of your vinegar and cornstarch, stir to discourage any lumps. Sprinkle the slurry over the meringue and fold in.

5. Gently heap meringue onto your parchment disk, making certain to leave a shallow bowl in the center for eventual cream-and fruit-filling. Smooth the edges of the meringue for a clean look or make any sort of design you wish. Please email me if you've come up with anything interesting or vaguely obscene.

6. Place your meringue-topped cardboard parchment onto the lined baking sheet and place in oven. Bake for 15 minutes, turn off the heat and walk away. Baking should take about one hour, but it is best to peek in every once in a while to see how your creation is doing. The Pavlova should not brown, but take on a slight cream color. Leaving it in the oven to dry out a bit is a good thing.

The now-baked Pavlova will keep for up to a week when stored in non-humid conditions in an air-tight container.

7. For the topping, whip cream and buttermilk until soft peaks form. Gradually add sugar and vanilla, then whip a little more. You make chose to remove half the cream at this stage for spreading, whipping up the remainder for piping those tutu-like frills around the edge that I somehow failed to achieve.

8. Spread the whipped cream over the meringue. Top with the fruit of your choice, and serve immediately in the fifth position, thereby impressing your friends and family with your limberness of both lower body and culinary expertise.

Eat immediately.

Serves 6

Labels: anna pavlova. pavlova, dessert, jan gardner, michael procopio, recipe

This Fall saw three dessert books by local chefs, Elizabeth Falkner's Demolition Desserts, Pure Dessert by Alice Medrich and Indulge by Claire Clark. Each of these books are masterful and exacting. When it comes to pastry, exacting is important. I'm often intimidated by the fact that you can't "fix" dessert the way you can fix something savory. You can't add more leavening or salt or sugar or cook the fruit a bit longer once your creation comes out of the oven. What you can do, is rely on recipes that work.


Elizabeth Falkner's Demolition Desserts is the first book by Elizabeth Falkner. Go ahead and skip Fisherman's Wharf, but I consider Citizen Cake a requirement for any out-of-town visitor. Falkner's creations are sophisticated and smart, never sickly sweet. She composes plated desserts the way other chefs compose main courses with multiple elements that complement and play off of each other in both unexpected and whimsical ways. The book has both complicated desserts but also more straight forward ones like chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes and brownies. It's the chapters like The Chocolate Crawl, Fruitscapes and the Construction Zone that are most likely to inspire. Fantastic creations with even more fantastic names are par for the course. The manga style illustrations add the sense of fun and pleasure that comes so naturally with dessert.


Another first time cookbook author is Clarie Clark, the head pastry chef at The French Laundry. Indulge 100 Perfect Desserts is filled with French, English and American desserts, and ingredients are given by weight. The recipes are very well-written and chapters called "The Secrets of Success" share the insider tips that can only come from years in the kitchen. A section on puff pastry has 8 tips to make sure you get it right. A bit like a class in pastry-making, this is a terrific reference book and the photographs will guide your plating and presentation as much as the instructions.


Pure Dessert is written by veteran chocolatier and cookbook author, Alice Medrich. The focus of the book is on "true flavors and inspiring ingredients" and it is a celebration of simplicity. That's not to say the recipes are easy, but certainly easy to love. In an earlier book Medrich revisited chocolate desserts using the higher quality, higher percentage cacao and this book is in some ways very similar. It's about creating desserts that celebrate ingredients. A chapter dedicated to the flavors of grain, nuts and seeds includes recipes like Buckwheat Strawberry Shortcakes, Walnut Sponge Cake and Corn Tuiles with Salt and Pepper. Some of the recipes are classics, others are innovative.

Chocolate² Chip Espresso Cookies
makes about 4 dozen standard cookies or 8 dozen mini cookies

11/2 cups (71/2 ounces) all-purpose flour
3/4 cup (21/4 ounces) unsweetened cocoa powder, preferably natural
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons finely ground espresso-roast coffee beans
1 cup (8 ounces) unsalted butter, softened but still cool
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons (71/4 ounces) firmly packed dark brown sugar
1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon (4 ounces) granulated sugar
1 (11/2 ounces by weight) large egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
11/3 cups (8 ounces) semisweet, milk, or white chocolate chips, or a combination

In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and ground coffee. In a large bowl, using a wooden spoon, cream together the butter and brown and granulated sugars until smooth but not overmixed. (I do this by hand, but if you use a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment or a handheld mixer, beat on medium speed for 1 to 2 minutes, and then scrape down the sides of the bowl before continuing.) Add the egg, vanilla, and salt and stir just until combined. Add the sifted ingredients to the butter mixture in two additions, stirring gently after each addition just until combined. Add the chocolate chips and stir just until evenly distributed throughout the dough. Cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
Position the racks in the upper third and lower third of the oven and preheat the oven to 350°F. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

Scoop up 1-inch balls of dough for full-sized cookies or 1/2-inch balls for mini cookies with a spoon or mini scoop. Set the large scoops 2 inches apart or the small scoops 1 inch apart on the prepared pans.

Bake the mini cookies for about 5 minutes and the full-sized cookies for about 8 minutes, and then rotate the pans and bake both sizes for another 3 minutes, or until they are puffed and still look a little wet in the center. Transfer to racks and let cool. (Okay, you can sneak a couple of warm cookies, but let most of the batch cool.)
These cookies will keep for 2 to 3 days in an airtight container, but they will be at their most tender the day you bake them.

Reprinted from Elizabeth Falkner’s Demolition Desserts, Copyright 2007 Tenspeed Press

Labels: alice medrich, amy sherman, claire clark, cookbook, dessert, elizabeth falkner

Happy November! Happy cool weather, foggy evenings, cozy couch lounging, flannel sheets, soft scarves, cashmere sweaters, one pot meals, soup and stock simmering in the kitchen, and hot cocoa for breakfast.

People often ask me what the difference between hot cocoa and hot chocolate is. I like to think the answer is something akin to the difference between Soul Food and Southern Cookery/ Cuisine. Both are from the American South, but Soul Food is a little more specific.

Hot cocoa and hot chocolate are basically the same animal, but hot chocolate is a mink and the former is more like a very soft cat. Hot chocolate is made with bar chocolate and hot cocoa, with, yes obvious - cocoa. Both can be made with milk, cream or a mixture of both.

Depending on your age, and the particular geography you were standing in when you had your first sip of hot cocoa, means the cocoa your body registered as the correct hot cocoa taste will differ from someone else of another age and of another place.

For the sake of this discussion we will say there are two kinds of cocoa. Natural and European or Dutch Process. Natural cocoa is light in color and DP is dark. For baking, knowing the difference is of utmost importance. But in the case of a drinkable, it more has to do with your taste memory and preference. If you were me, or from New York City, you might have had your hot cocoa epiphany at the now, sadly, closed Rumplemeyer's. Hot cocoa at this venerable restaurant was served in silver teapots. It was rich and aromatic and very hot. You sat in plush pink banquets surrounded by other reverent small people and their adult companions. It was benchmark hot cocoa. I have a feeling it was made with natural cocoa because when I make hot cocoa now it is the cocoa I have the strongest emotional memory reaction to.

Hot chocolate is a rich enterprise. Although you can use milk, bitter/semi-sweet chocolate begs {heavy} cream, and then what you have on your hand is the opinionated view of your expensive chocolate versus how you're going to explain to anyone else why it's ok to drink ganache. We're talking seriously supple, silky and smooth, but at the cost of your arteries, and for me I would rather slather a wide mug of hot cocoa with whipped cream to amend the whole milk.

The most famous hot chocolate of my generation is created by the slightly wicked, darkly humoured Maury Rubin, pastry chef/ baker/ owner of City Bakery in NYC and Los Angeles. He is smart enough to serve it in a thimble-sized portion for reasonable, informed persons, and has a larger portion for those unawares of what lies within. Not only are there no words to describe what Maury's hot chocolate is like, even if I had any, they would disappear under the weight of this brutally rich concoction. Yes, I like it, but I have been known to share the shot size with more than one other person. No joke, yo.

I have a few tricks should you like to take hot cocoa on as a end of year meal amending or replacing project. Years of making beverages, ice cream, cakes, frostings, ganache, truffles and more with cocoa and chocolate have given me insight to a number of cocoa and chocolate personality quirks.

Chocolate and cocoa have little to no flavor when they are cold or frozen. Cocoa's chocolatey-ness can only be achieved if added to warm or hot liquid. If cocoa is added to cold or cool liquid and then heated up, the cocoa will float to the bottom of the pot and burn on the bottom. This scorching will destroy the flavor of the dairy.

Every cocoa is not only different in terms of its manufacturing process, but not one of them is ground to the same particle size. You may think you don't care about such minute details, but 4 teaspoons of one cocoa is not 4 teaspoons of another. If you are making a large batch of hot cocoa, as I have begun to at work in preparation of all the ice skaters in Justin Herman Plaza, measure cocoa by weight. If you have a scale that can be adjusted to grams, do so. Good quality cocoa is strong and a smidge goes a long way.

If you are making hot chocolate, it is best to chop chocolate fine and place in a large, wide mouthed bowl. Heat cream/milk until just boiling and pour over chocolate. Let sit a few minutes and then whisk in tight concentric circles, from the interior, out. Although you can make hot chocolate with milk, you will find that cream or half & half will emulsify with the solid chocolate better. It's never a good idea to cook chocolate right in a saucepan because it burns so easily, but if you want to heat up your mixture again or more, place bowl over a pot of boiling water and whisk until desired consistency. Or a microwave can be you fast friend.

I'm one of those odd ducks who likes a big mug of hot cocoa to be unsweetened or barely sweet. But if you like yours a little sweeter try using brown or raw sugar. The caramel-ly flavor of these sugars backs up the chocolate taste nicely. And lastly, a tiny pinch of kosher salt is a nice finesse.

Because hot cocoa and hot chocolate are made up of just two or three ingredients, making sure your dairy is the best quality is a good idea. Ultra-pasteurized milk and cream can sometimes have stabilizers that read on the tongue as bitter and can interfere with your hot cocoa purr.

This is how I make hot cocoa:
I pour about 2 cups of whole milk into a non-reactive saucepan, sprinkle about a teaspoon of sugar in, and then turn flame to low or medium. When milk is hot to the touch I sprinkle in cocoa one teaspoon at a time, whisking constantly, until it tastes right. I continue to whisk for about 5 minutes, but I try not to let it boil.

I don't know about you, but I'm glad it's cold again. I love summer, but as an East Coaster originally, I like autumn to give way to winter, without a 90-degree October in between. Because without a bunch of cold and dreary months I would have a hard time explaining away my hot cocoa for breakfast, lunch and dinner habit.

Labels: beverages, chocolate, dessert, shuna lydon

Sometimes, the best of intentions go awry. Fortunately, there's always frozen puff pastry.

Emergency desserts during the summer are easy -- who needs to gild perfect berries? -- but as autumn settles in, it's more of a challenge to impress VIP guests, say, eight culinary experts called for a special meeting. And you're supposed to make dessert. No pressure.

When your beautiful pears are still hard and you don't have a single hour more to ripen them in that handy paper bag, it's time for poaching.



Make a simple syrup by mixing together in a saucepan 1 part water, 1 part sugar, ribbons of lemon peel, and a few knobs of ginger. Crush the ginger to relieve stress and release flavor.

Peel your pears and cut them in half. Use a small spoon or melon baller to scoop out the core, and then plop the fruit into the poaching liquid.



Bring to a simmer over medium-high, and then lower the heat to maintain a gentle simmer. Press a round of parchment up against the pears to keep them moist all around and to help cook them evenly. (Remember this tip for matzo balls and red-cooked pork, too.) Make the round just a tad bit smaller than the diameter of the pan, and cut a venting hole at the center. If you don't have parchment paper, use a smaller pot lid or a flat saucer to keep the pears immersed, but be careful not to press dents into the softening fruit.

They're ready when the tip of a paring knife cuts easily to the center, 20 minutes for some pears, 40 for others.



For tiny tartlets that will be served on a buffet, cut the pears in quarters and then slice thinly. If you're making one big tart for friends or family, just make parallel slices almost to the stem ends and then fan open each pear half.



Make a frangipane filling by throwing a cup of blanched or slivered almonds into your food processor. (If you don't have a food processor, buy almond meal from the nut vendors at the farmers market or visit the baking aisle at your local Trader Joe's.) Follow with a couple of eggs, 3/4 stick of soft butter (though I've been known to use the cold, hard stuff) and 1/4 to 1/2 cup sugar. Flavor with a pinch of salt and a good dash of vanilla. Buzz until a smooth, thick but spreadable mixture forms. Set this aside.



Now for the crust...

Dufour is my favorite, but Trader Joe's also sells a good all-butter puff pastry that's worth keeping in your freezer.

Thaw the pastry as directed on the package label. Most call for a few hours in the refrigerator, followed by a few minutes at room temperature. You'll need to work quickly to prevent the butter layers from melting into each other, so gather all your cutters, pans, fillings and glazes before you take the pastry out of the refrigerator.

Make an egg wash by mixing together 1 egg and 1 tablespoon water just until foam begins to form.



For small tartlets, you'll need to roll the pastry pretty thin, say 1/8 inch. If you're making one large tart, you can stop at 1/4 inch, but don't leave it too thick, or your layers will rise so high they'll deform and spill your filling. Those who were good at Tetris should be able to squeeze 18 to 24 tartlets, each 1-1/2 inch across, out of one sheet of puff pastry.

Be sure to use a sharp knife or pastry round to cut cleanly through the dough. Pressing the rim of a glass or a dull, plastic cutter into your pastry will simply seal together all those lovely layers. Use a small amount of flour as need to prevent sticking, but don't overdo it. Fastidious bakers will keep a soft brush handy to flick away excess flour.

Cut twice as many rounds as you'll need. Switch to a smaller cutter to punch out the centers of half of the rounds to form rings. Brush the bases lightly but evenly with egg wash, then press the ring onto each large round to make a lip for the filling.

If you don't have pastry rounds, cut small squares with a sharp knife, then cut thin strips to press around the edges. Square tarts are easy, yet look très elegant.

Prick the bottom crust once or twice with a fork.



If you have time, freeze the crusts for 15 to 30 minutes before baking. Preheat the oven to 425 F (or whatever the package says) and bake the crusts for 10 to 15 minutes, depending on their size. Remove them when they are puffed but do not let them take on color. Reduce the oven to 375 F.

Spread a thin layer of the nut filling into the center of the crusts. Top with the sliced fruit. I like to arrange the fruit with a bit of height for some drama on the buffet.

Bake the tartlet's again for about 20 minutes, or until the filling is golden brown.



For a more casual affair, one big tart is fine. It'll need to be baked for a longer amount of time, say 30 to 40 minutes, but it's a lot less fuss upfront.

Let the tarts cool on a rack for maximum crispness. For this batch of tartlets, I reduced the poaching liquid to a thick syrup, and then brushed the pear slices with it for a nice, finishing sheen. You can melt a clear, pale jelly such as apple or white wine-thyme. Or you can just use honey.



The tarts can be frozen at several points: after rolling and cutting, after the first baking and before filling, or after baking completely. Like with roasting chickens, it doesn't that much more time to make two rather than one, so go ahead and make extra. Frozen tartlets take only 15 minutes at 275 F to warm up.

Extra poached pears make an excellent topping for pancakes, waffles or French toast. Slice and rewarm in butter and brown sugar.

Finally, just as doughnut holes are among my favorite treats, the centers of the tartlet rounds end up becoming even more fun to eat then the tarts themselves. Brush with egg wash, sprinkle with fleur de sel and cumin seeds, bake for 10 minutes, and enjoy while still warm with a slice of cheese, a glass of wine and a huge sigh of relief.

Labels: autumn, baking, dessert, fruit, pastries, recipe, thy tran

Rose, lavender, and vanilla bean macaroons

I didn't like macaroons until I met Danielle Chong. She's the founder of Macarune, a one-woman baking operation, and macaroons are the specialty of the house.

A co-worker introduced me to Macarune's light as air creations, and even through the deadened fog of a headcold, I could taste the freshness of the buttercream and feel the juxtaposition of textures -- crisp, then soft and chewy -- on my tongue. I was intrigued. So I called Danielle up, and we met for coffee to talk about her budding bakery.

"I've always baked," explained the petite Malaysian. "I used to pore over mom's cookbooks. A lot of friends back home know me for my cheesecake with peaches on top."


Strawberry macaroons. Photo by Danielle Chong.

During a trip to Europe, Danielle tasted her first macaron from Parisian legend Pierre Hermé. "We'd buy a box with strawberry and pistachio and we'd eat them like Krispy Kremes."

When her boyfriend bought her a KitchenAid mixer two years ago, she started baking in earnest, gifting the sugary excesses to friends. Macaroons were a particular challenge.

"They're a pain in the butt to make," she says with a rueful smile. "I've thrown trays and trays away. I failed the first time and I failed the second time and it worked the third time. But I've failed many times after."

Danielle bakes her macaroons in a variety of flavors. My favorite is rose, which is made with rose water; each one is distinctly and intoxicatingly floral. There is also pistachio, vanilla bean, coffee, hibiscus, coconut, hazelnut, caramel fleur de sel, lychee, lavender, raspberry, black sesame, green tea -- and many, many more. She's currently playing around with cardamom, orange blossom, and elderflower. "Traveling has opened my eyes to a lot of different flavors," she says.


Lavender macaroons. Photo by Danielle Chong.

Danielle makes her macaroons in the French style, meaning that the buttercream sandwiched in the middle is made by pouring sugar syrup over egg yolks and whipping it to peaks. She prefers this method for most of the flavors because of the velvety texture it imparts. For the honey buttercream in her lavender macaroons, however, she switches to the Italian method, which uses egg whites in place of yolks.

The provenance of her ingredients varies. "I am pro-local," she admits. "I go to the Ferry Plaza farmer's market almost every week." But some things are better abroad, and she prefers Valhrona chocolate and culinary lavender imported from France.

She is equally fastidious about how she presents her dainty cookies. Strawberry macaroons come in a green plastic pint basket, just as they would at the market, and each order is festooned with a polka dotted ribbon.


Black sesame and pistachio macaroons. Photo by Danielle Chong.

Right now, Danielle bakes only to order -- one reason her macaroons are so unbeatably fresh tasting. (In comparison, the macaroons sold at everyone's favorite boulangerie look and taste like limp imitations.) In addition to macaroons, Macarune also offers custom cupcakes -- my favorite is the intensely fudgey chocolate soufflé -- as well as celebration cakes, shortbread and cookies.

Orders: $26 for 16 (1 flavor) or $42 for 32 (2 flavors). 72 hours notice required, not including weekends. Pick-up is in North Beach. For more information or to place an order, contact daniellechong@gmail.com

Labels: catherine nash, daniellechong, dessert, macaroons

Last week Tutti Foodie, Scharffen Berger, and Marcia Gagliardi of Tablehopper joined forces and unveiled The Chocolate Adventure Recipe Contest with a number of events at local restaurants featuring pastry chefs and chocolate. On Monday August 13 I went to Campton Place to see what Boris Portnoy {pastry chef of Campton Place, the restaurant) might make and talk about. An innovative and forward thinking chef, Boris's desserts guarantee a challenge to the palate as well as mind.

Much to my delight there was more in store than the same old chocolate thang I, and other pastry chefs, often find ourselves at. The afternoon at Campton Place was spent in a small private room on the second floor with some of California's most dynamic food writers, bloggers, bakers and movers and shakers in the local chocolate scene.

Before we set about eating the arranged chocolate on our plates, John Scharffenberger gave a short but thorough history of cacao and chocolate. If you work for a school, or just love chocolate, give this semi-retired chocolate maker a call! His talk was engaging, funny, compassionate and delicious in every sense of the word. While leading us through the earth's best rain forests for cacao growing, harvesting and fermenting, he directed us to eat the disparate chocolate shapes on our plates, in the order his lesson informed.

Much to the surprise of many of our virgin mouths, we tasted a number of chocolate examples which were not chocolate in the truest sense of the word. We learned that when tasting chocolate in its pure form, tongues met with acidity and tannins most commonly found in wine and bitter edges associated with dark-roasted coffees.

After eating 8-9 versions of cacao and chocolate we listened to Boris talk excitedly about his love for cacao nibs; their texture, flavor and versatility tantalized his sweet imagination. And discovering how to make his own chocolate in a food processor appeared to have changed his life! Yes, he encouraged, go and try this at home. After a short demonstration he motioned with a regal flourish, and quiet waiters appeared with a three component cacao nib-themed plated dessert.

You'd think after three hours of smelling, tasting, eating, talking, inquiring, and listening to chocolate I would have left the hotel without a desire to ponder the chocolate contest... But the truth is that my friend and I discussed what we would do if we could enter the contest. {I cannot, but he can.}

I thought I would share a bit of our conversation. Think of these word formations the way you would poetry, a game, an interpretive dance or maybe like you were sitting near us on BART, overhearing our chocolate-meal fueled crazytalk.

Theme: Bacon & Chocolate

Render bacon fat brunoise or dice, caramelize crispy pork fat cubes and make chocolate with this in food processor with cacao nibs.
Pork cracklins (like the snack food found at gas stations) enrobed in bittersweet chocolate.
Bacon lardons half dipped in chocolate.
Fatback chocolate with quince paste.
Pork belly & rosemary infused chocolate pot de creme, quince paste (?) & sea salt garnish.

Don't worry, these ideas won't end up on a dessert of mine.....

The Chocolate Adventure Recipe Contest website. "You. Dark Chocolate. And A Special Ingredient."

The Rules are simple: pair a list of innovative/ aromatic spices and flavors with any of Scharffen Berger's exquisite dark chocolates. The prizes include both money and fame. If you don't want the Bacon & Chocolate dessert to win, enter soon.

And, as Jen Maiser said aptly, "What could be better than the opportunity to create an interesting recipe using chocolate?"

Related Links:
The Art of Tasting Chocolate
Jalapeno Girl
Ladle and Whisk

Labels: bacon, bay area, berkeley, chocolate, culinary education, dessert, food businesses, games, recipe contest, scharffen berger, shuna lydon, tuttifoodie

In a few hours I will be attending the wedding of a friend who has Celiac Disease. Her wedding will be a gluten-free picnic and all the guests will bring something in this theme.

I know very little, almost nothing about what I call "alternative baking." Luckily for me crisp topping is not really considered baking. There are no eggs, no chemical leaveners, no attempt at expecting something to rise in the oven, no faerie-dust finesse needed in the mixer. I need to put a bunch of gluten free flours together with various sugars and spices and butter, and hopefully, voila! Crisp topping baked onto glorious Pacific Northwest berries galore.

"Alternative Baking" is tricky business. Little has been written about the properties of these new flours as they relate or translate to what we know of wheat flour. Although wheat has not always been a year-round crop, almost all American and European baked goods start with it.

Celiac Disease is not the only major food allergy gaining momentum today. With the prevalence of soy and corn and wheat in almost everything consume, whether we know it's there or not, we are developing allergies to ingredients we are eating far too much of. Baking, cooking and eating that is considered "alternative" today may well be considered normal/standard/conventional in a dozen years or less.



Books like Heidi Swanson's Super Natural Cooking have helped me to understand new flours like Mesquite, Teff, Sorghum. In her beginning chapters, she gently and thoroughly explains the nutritional, taste and baking properties of many of these almost mysterious new things.

But, like all new ingredients, one must experiment until one gets what tastes good to them. Because crisp topping has no dangerous raw ingredients you can taste it, and adjust according to taste when it looks ready.

Follow instructions for the crisp topping I made last year near this time. It is exactly the same.

Here is what I put together for today's gluten free challenge. I used a scale so I could check proportions better. And I wrote it all down as I went along, tasting a tiny bit of each flour first to check texture and flavor. All these flours are ground to a different consistency, so measuring them in cups would have been dangerous. Some are heavier than others. (All Purpose unbleached (white) wheat flour generally weighs 5-6 oz. per cup)

2.5 oz Teff flour
4 oz. Sorghum flour
5 oz. Sushi rice flour
1.25 oz. Tapioca flour
1.75 ounces Mesquite flour
2 teaspoons Kosher salt
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 1/2 teaspoons ground cardamon
1/2 teaspoon cardamon seeds*
1.75 sugar
3 oz. raw sugar
8 oz. Dark brown sugar
1 pound unsalted butter
*optional

All of these flours can be found at Rainbow Grocery. If you have a friend who is gluten-free, I hope you get the chance to make this for them!

Labels: dessert, gluten-free, heidi swanson, recipe, shuna lydon

Far from the golden hills of California, with endless lush stretches of forest and field, the Green Mountain State lives up to its name. My road trip continues, and this week I find myself heading toward the Northeast Kingdom. Along the way, near the shores of Lake Champlain, I've been enjoying two local treats.

Faced with the uncertain future of sugar maples, eating maple creemees whenever possible is an imperative. Sugar shacks dot the countryside, and if a sign and an arrow point the way to a creemee, I am there. Soft vanilla ice cream swirled with this year's maple syrup -- what better way to celebrate summer in Vermont?



If you're picky about such things as real ingredients (and you must be if you're reading this blog) then be sure to ask at the creemee stands if they use real maple syrup. If not, well...there's always another sugar shack further down the road.



In the village of Barre, pronounced "barry" as I was gently reminded by a local, an especially memorable variation appears in the guise of a maple sundae. At the window of Caesar's Fare, where a red siren light promises rescue from snack attacks, you can order two scoops of maple-walnut ice cream topped with maple syrup (Grade B = "Better & Bolder") and more walnuts. The bitterness of the nuts balances perfectly the sweetness of the syrup. Whipped cream and maraschino cherries complete the experience.



Another local flavor comes from a metal tin. At the other end of the sensuality spectrum, dry and crisp Common Crackers have sustained generations of Vermonters. Round, puffy and neatly halved like a French macaron, they're the New England embodiment of pragmatism. Originally purchased annually by the barrel, these crackers served as breakfast when soaked in milk, lunch when nibbled with cheddar cheese, afternoon tea when spread with jam, or dinner when served with chowder.

Common crackers are descendants of the long-lived, well-traveled hardtack much-maligned by sailors and soldiers, and their close cousins include pilot crackers, water crackers, and sea biscuits. Recently revived by the Orton family, owners of the Vermont Country Store, the crackers are still available 180 years after they were first cut and baked in Montpelier.



I've been enjoying my mini-barrel of common crackers with shards of Grafton Village's six-year cheddar cheese in between my maple creemees. Who cares about crumbs in the car or lactose intolerance with the open road ahead?

Stay tuned for an update next week from Maine. If all goes well, I'll be posting photos of freshly dug steamers and buttery lobsters.

In the meantime, please feel free to share coordinates for your favorite lobster shack along the Down East Coast!

Labels: cheese, dessert, history, ice cream, thy tran, travel

By the time you read this, I will be in Portland, Oregon, readying to teach four baking classes, back to back, over the course of two weeks. Although it might not sound like much, I have only been teaching 2 classes a month in the Bay Area for the last year or so. But I'm not complaining, I love to teach, and all the better to teach the students hungry to learn, no matter where they are. Portland, Oregon might be one of my favorite places that ever there was, especially in summer.

I'm excited to take the long drive north, and pass on the secrets of flaky pie dough, light cakes, easy biscuits for cobbler and anything else that strikes my fancy after I visit a few of the countless Portland farmers' markets the proud, diminutive city has to offer.

For a complete schedule of my Portland Baking classes and their locations, click here.



After two long, delicious, educational weeks in Portland, I drive to Seattle for what may be one of the most delectable weddings I've been privy to an invitation to. Seattle is also home to, as I barely need to explain to you all, a concentration of possibly the best coffee houses in the country, (I like Vivace best), and some of my all-time favorite desserts can be found at Capitol Hill's B & O Espresso. I have been known to beg those coming to the Bay Area from Seattle to bring me a piece of their lemon pie on the airplane!

I'll be staying with the ever elusive Tea, meeting the beautiful and prolific Molly, and generally enjoying a summer that's a little behind Northern California's, but among those Pacific Northwesters as proud of their region as we are.





I come back for a minute, and then jump on a plane to get to Chicago, a city I have never visited, to attend and speak at BlogHer 07. I'm looking forward to eating BBQ, riding the L, going on an architectural tour, eating innovative raw desserts at Charlie Trotter, and touching base with Gale Gand again. Think there's something I must absolutely do or eat? Feel free to leave suggestions!



By the time I land once and for all in Northern California, it will be August and summer will be in full, opulent swing. Stone fruits will sweeten, tomatoes will overwhelm our kitchens, salads will be the dinner of choice, melons will arrive in a profusion of their sexy, musky, refreshing, honey-sweet selves, restaurants will have basil in everything and I'll be happy to go to the Ferry Building and pick up some Pimienton de Padron from Happy Quail and the love of my late summer life, okra from Short Night. It will be time to make sweet corn ice cream.



Strawberry varietals will get more tender, verbena will perfume the air, and figs in all their guises will be born out of their coconut leaf-scented trees second pregnancy. Eating and cooking will become easier and faster. When there are so many choices, summer's cup spilleth over and we are drunk with its heady voluptuous bounty.



It is in this sumptuous, sensual spirit I am announcing my August classes. I'm taking a gamble and offering 3, as opposed to my normal 2 per month. If you want to skip the descriptions below, follow this link to the current calendar of my upcoming Bay Area classes.

On Sunday August 12 I will teach a Knife Skills Class. Find a review of my last Bay Area Knife Skills Class at Albion Cooks by clicking on this link. The class is 1/3rd lecture, 1/3rd demonstration and 1/3rd hands-on. If you're not too shy you'll learn a lot. I bring all my various knives and explain the whys and hows of different metals, blades, brands etc. The class is vegetarian: we do not butcher meat or fish, and hopefully no one will butcher himself or herself after taking the class!

One week later, on Sunday August 19 I will teach another Ice Cream Class. In the last one students learned how to make Real Butterscotch from scratch, saw and felt how to bring creme anglaise to nappe by look and feel, heard the scientific reasons behind the secret to melt-in-your-mouth chocolate "chips" in creamy, frozen desserts, debated the pros and cons of various home ice cream makers and ate more than their fair share of the spoils. The frozen treat most people were surprised by liking so much? Redwood hill Goat Yogurt Granita. What was the easiest? Lemon Sherbet. Kat, of Kung Foodie took a lot of photos from the first and last Ice Cream Class, get there by following this link. Dolores of Culinary Curiosity wrote a very funny review of the class. If I know nothing else as a pastry chef, I know ice cream and sorbet. I've been making both for over 15 years.

And lastly, Sunday August 26 will usher in my third and very popular Seasonal Fruit Dessert Class. As a fruit-inspired pastry chef, the plated dessert possibilities are endless! In the first class rhubarb and strawberries were most of what was in season. We still managed to make and eat 8 separate items! In the second class we conquered 5, as cherries and stone fruit began their early march. Anita, one half of Married With Dinner reviewed my first Seasonal Fruit Dessert Class. Initially it had been Anita's idea for me to teach the class. So, see, I really do take requests!

All classes take place in North Berkeley, minutes from Downtown Berkeley BART on the Richmond line and close to plenty of parking.



I hope you'll consider taking one or more of these classes. I thoroughly teach the hows as well as the whys, both being major avenues which will lead to understanding the basics of baking and cooking so you can feel more comfortable with a myriad of cookbook recipes, innovative and modern or traditional cooking styles.

In the baking classes I make room for 2 students at $55, if cost is what's keeping them from attending. Email me directly if you feel you qualify. The Knife Skills Class is $68 and the baking classes are $100. Payments can be made by using the Paypal link on Eggbeater or you may email me for a snail mail address if a check feels more comfortable. {I also have a private mailing list if you want to get the information without trekking over to Eggbeater for it. To be placed on it, email me directly. I share it with no one; it's for the purpose of announcing future SF/Bay Area classes only.}

San Francisco Magazine recently covered my classes as well as many other individual and small cooking school classes, see the whole spread by clicking on this link.

See you soon?

Come One, Come All. Come Hungry To Learn!

Labels: bay area, culinary education, dessert, pastry chefs, shuna lydon

As one of my colleagues said the other day, the farmers markets are "lousy with strawberries." I don't mind the glut, as my own last meal would be a bowl of strawberries, a taste of life short and sweet.

The best way to eat the fruit is whole, out of hand, one after the other until they're entirely gone. There are, of course, many ways to gild the lily: strawberries and balsamic vinegar, strawberries and brown sugar, strawberries and red wine, strawberries and cream, strawberry shortcake, strawberries and rhubarb pie....

If you're driving on Highway 1 just north of Santa Cruz, be sure to stop at Swanton Berry Farm. Next to their U-pick strawberry fields in Davenport, you'll find their Farm Stand. With its old-fashioned honor till, the store offers fresh-made pies, shortcake, cobbler and jams. Everything there is made by the farm's own staff with berries they grow themselves. A flat of sweet, ripe strawberries costs only $15 dollars. They have the best berries around, but there are a couple of other reasons why I support their farm. Swanton devotes itself to strict organic standards, and they employ field laborers who all belong to the United Farm Workers.

The last time I was there, I went a little crazy and got two flats and a blackberry pie. (For non-gluttons: 1 flat = 6 baskets.) Finishing three baskets myself on the winding road back, I macerated a couple more baskets in fresh orange juice for shortcake and then sugared the rest for jam as soon as I got back home. I've learned the hard way that organic strawberries don't last as long as conventional, but making jam is my own way of stretching out their flavor as long as I can.

My cheater's strawberry sherbet is another recipe that I only make when the freshest, sweetest strawberries are coming to market. Food Editor Pasty Jamieson gave it to me over a dozen years ago, while I was her intern at Eating Well Magazine in Vermont, far from California's warm fields. Back then, all I owned fit into three cardboard boxes and one suitcase. I still make this treat every spring and summer because it's so easy and so good. There have been flirtations with fancier versions, like lemongrass syrup or thyme-infused buttermilk, but I've always returned to the flavor of simpler times.

Strawberry Buttermilk Quick Sherbet

Trim calyx leaves from a pint of strawberries and arrange them in a single layer on a tray or baking sheet. Freeze until hard entirely through. Transfer the strawberries to the bowl of a food processor. Sprinkle in 2 tablespoons of buttermilk, 1 to 2 tablespoons of sugar, and a squirt of fresh lemon juice. Pulse until smooth, scraping down the sides as needed. For a softer texture, add up to 1 more tablespoon of buttermilk, and then adjust sweet and sour to your taste. Serve immediately or transfer to an air-tight container and freeze up to a week.

Labels: dessert, farmers, fruit, organic, organic farmers, recipe, thy tran

As I've said before, to have me in your friend circle means I am your go-to for all edible recommendations. Most of the time this means that, after contacting me, people walk away with new eating and adventuring possibilities. But sometimes I tell people where to go for selfish reasons.

At weddings, for example. The food and cake can be notoriously awful at large functions. (In a recent talk at The Commonwealth Club, Charles Phan, chef/owner of The Slanted Door, reminded us that if we wanted to see restaurants buying, for example, sustainable seafood, we should think about speaking up at the next banquet dinner or luncheon we eat at or have at a hotel. "Because you can eat more Chilean Sea Bass in one day in a hotel than I could buy/sell at my restaurant in a year.")

When people come to me asking for wedding cake making expertise or the option to cater their wedding, I send them to people and companies who do a much better job than I ever could. People who make a living in said fields. I give them the cards of those who have never let me and my recommendation down. I give out the names of companies who have fed me well at the very same parties I could have catered myself, but thankfully chose not to.

Take it from me when I say not all catering companies are created equally. I've worked for many who make food I myself am scared to eat at the very functions I'm preparing or plating the food for! When I've worked for these places, I eat big meals beforehand and carry snacks for the moment I'm caught hungrily off guard.

And then there are the places where I show up to work hungry. Hungry to learn and to eat. Paula Le Duc, for example. PLD is the exclusive caterer for The Ferry Building Events. They are incredibly organized, smart, efficient, and serve some of the best food in the Bay Area, no matter if the party is for 5000 or 50. They are professional and friendly and emply hundreds of people, many of them loyal for years on end. I loved working for them and have sent a number of cooks their way. It's always a good sign when a catering company hires aggressively and competitively from within the restaurant industry.

Which brings me to Living Room Events, a company made up of almost exclusively restaurant people. They are a catering company dedicated to cooking food on par with signature Cal-Med restaurants such as Zuni, Chez Panisse and Oliveto. Their chefs shop at the same farmers' markets and produce companies that the famously local-seasonal restaurants do. So when my friends Victoria and Phil came to me for caterer advice, selfishly knowing I would be a guest at their gorgeous wedding, I strongly suggested LRE. As with all food businesses you can often be served something extraordinarily delicious in the "tasting," but then at the actual event, the food is sub-par. I only recommend companies where their follow through is as good, if not better, than how they sell it.

This past Sunday was the third time where I have been a happy guest of their services. The food and service were so good, people at the party were telling the waiters they wished the catering company would turn into a restaurant! And rumor has it that Living Room Events is, in fact, going to open a restaurant. I would have eaten three plates of savoury food had I not known how good the cake was going to be.



Wedding cakes are made first to dazzle us with our eyes. What's hiding under the 5 inches of buttercream, fondant or marzipan could be a cake made 6 months ago and stored in a deep freezer. You can get a raspberry cake in January, and much of the decorations could be edible ingredients whose digestibility is questionable, but that wedding cake could cost you tens of thousands of dollars and no one would wonder why a frosted dessert can sit in the heat of July's busy wedding month for the 6 or 7 hours it takes for the ceremony to start.

Having worked with Rachel Leising at Citizen Cake, owner of wedding cake business and now retail bakery Petite Patisserie in Potrero Hill, I can say that this woman's cakes taste as good as they look. Rachel is dedicated to seasonal, local, sustainable and Organic ingredients because they taste better. I have been at many a wedding and birthday party where I saved room for dessert and my only disappointment was there weren't more than two slices to eat!

I don't get paid to make these recommendations. I no longer work for any of these companies or people. But believe me when I say that it is better to pay the same or a little more for food and the work of food artisans whose product is far and above the quality of most of their competitors.

I know there are many more outstanding companies out there. Who do you love? Who do you recommend?

Labels: caterers, chefs, dessert, food businesses, san francisco, shuna lydon

When you work in the restaurant business everyone you know, everyone you know's friends, in-laws and children, and everyone you've not met yet, comes to you for restaurant recommendations.

Needless to say I am extremely grateful that Chowhound also exists. For it gets quite tiresome to be absolutely everyone's go to for breakfast, lunch, brunch and dinner suggestions. Especially when you consider I grew up in New York City, have lived in London and Napa Valley and the Bay Area is my permanent home.

All this being said, when I plan a trip to my old home, I very much look forward to what I will eat when I'm there. Will I visit the places where I know the chefs and pastry chefs? Will I haunt my old workplaces? Will I eat all my favorite foods? Will I shop and cook in my host's kitchen? Will I eat at brand name places so that I have something to talk about when I get back or will I just eat in the places no one but real New Yorkers go? Will I eat solely for memory or will I want to try all the new things I've read about since I was there last?

The truth is that I eat foods in my old home that I can't find in my new one. I'm fiercely loyal to old haunts, places whose menus I can trust no matter what the current trend and flash-in-the-pan hip happening thang is. I bring my money to the people I love and have the most respect for. Chefs and pastry chefs whose work is something that inspires me, fills me with hope that one day my California home town will embrace these innovations.

My upcoming trip to New York will look different from ones I've taken in more recent years. Because I met and be-friended some spectacularly talented people at the Pastry Chef Conference in May, I will spend some time eating and working with some of these folks. I'll go to Daniel just for dessert and then with their pastry chef, Dominique Ansel, we will eat at Devi, pastry chef Surbhi Sahnhi's post.

In the sweet theme, I'll make it into Chikalicious at least once. And if I have time, Pichet Ong's new place, P'ong. And then there's always a detour to Il Laboratorio del Gelato on Orchard Street in the heart of the real Lower East Side. Maybe I'll get a kasha K'nish at Yonah Schimmels beforehand so I can convince myself I've eaten dinner.

It's not a trip to New York without one surprising dinner at the diminutive Prune on First Street. Whether chef/owner Gabrielle Hamilton is there or not, I like to bring her a California gift. This week I'll be stocking up on jars of jam from newcomer Rachel Saunders so that I can present unique gifts to the people I love. Prune is my favorite restaurant in NYC.

But for the food I grew up with, there will be frequent visits to Veselka for pierogi, cabbage soup and a chat with my father and stepmother over blintzes. I always have to have one steamed lobster dinner at Pearl Oyster Bar on the tiny slanted street of Cornelia. When you grow up with steamers dipped in drawn butter and tasting of the chewy clammy sea, no nouveau California preparation of clams will satisfy.

It will be important for me to get sticky with coco helado on a street corner if it's hot, and of course I'll be noshing on my old stand by in Coney Island, ridged french fries at Nathan's and a cone of pastel green pistachio soft serve with colored sprinkles on Neptune Avenue!



For a post Coney Island Mermaid Day Parade de-tox I might head over to my favorite macrobiotic restaurant Angelica's. I have to get my fix of their kooky "cornbread," carrot spread and one small Dragon Bowl. And if I make it to Harlem I'll be going directly to M&G's for fried chicken. And if I want to roll out of my bed the next day to stand in line, I might head to Danal for brunch.

Saving the best for last, I am over-the-top excited that this will be the first time I'm going to Gerry Hayden and Claudia Fleming's restaurant The North Fork Table & Inn on Long Island. I used to work for Claudia Fleming at Gramercy Tavern in the Flatiron District. This will be my first time seeing her since I threw a party at Citizen Cake for her incredible book The Last Course, a must have for anyone who loves to bake seasonal desserts. The day I made the reservation to eat and stay at the Inn I could not sleep.



So, you can see, I will be eating well in my old hometown. Like most people, I tend to eat the familiar when I'm home. I have plans with friends and family, old lovers and new, bloggers, chefs and pastry chefs. I have adventures planned and I will be taking my feet to places they'll go without direction.

If you're looking for NYC restaurant recommendations, I still give them. But only if you're willing to try what a real New Yorker eats...

Labels: chefs, dessert, New York City, pastry chefs, restaurants, shuna lydon, street food

This Sunday June 10th I will be teaching my second Seasonal Fruit Dessert class in North Berkeley from 1 - 3:30 pm. Might you wish to join me as I conjure a number of sweets simple and complex, whose main focus is fruits at the peak of their early summer season's best? Those who took the first class were lucky enough to eat: Verbena & Meyer Lemon ice cream, Redwood Hill Goat Yogurt Pannacotta with rhubarb miroir, Roasted Lucero Strawberries, Rhubarb-Cornmeal Cake, Crunchy Poached Rhubarb Dice, Strawberry Coulis, Pavlova with whipped cream and strawberries, and Rhubarb-Walnut Crisp.

But now, there's so much more in season!



The possibilities are endless...

Shall we conjure a sublime cherry clafouti? Roast apriums in black pepper and Banyuls vinegar? Concoct a clear peach leaf consomme? Try our hand at whole almond frangipane with noyau and pluots? Layer light vanilla cake with brown butter pastry cream and fresh peaches? Finesse a batch of fresh cherry granite? Whip up some biscuits for cobbler? Fill the kitchen with the heady scent of warmed blackberry compote? Whip up an easy fresh fruit and cornmeal cake? Tremble with joy at the lightness of pannacotta? Learn what to do with a cherry pits' inner secret? Sneak some herbs from the garden and see what goes with what best?



I've lost count of how many classes I've taught now. And I'm happy to report many of us independent cooking instructors in the Bay Area were recently featured and reviewed in this months issue of San Francisco Magazine, click here to see the whole spread. I always have a lot of fun, but moreover, I love getting reports back about how people are less afraid to tackle homemade pie dough, ice cream and caramel or were excited to learn the secrets of how to make egg whites do what they want them to do, use their knives better or allowed my class and instruction to break down the last wall between them and their pot de creme molds.

This Sunday's Seasonal Fruit Dessert class will be my last Bay Area culinary class until August. On June 21 I'll be teaching my popular Knife Skills Class in NYC and come July I will teach 4 (!!) Pie Dough & Seasonal Fruit Dessert classes in Portland, Oregon. A good friend of mine said I should buy a silver Airstream trailer and take my show on the road! Hey, where the students want to learn, that's where I'll go, I say.



This Sunday's class is filling up quickly. Although the 2 spots I offer at almost 1/2 the price are still empty. I keep these spots open for those who love to bake but might not be able to afford the full cost. Those two folks come a wee bit early and stay a little later, to help me clean up.

The page that always has the current calendar of my classes can be found by clicking on this link. Register by going to the Paypal link in Eggbeater's right hand column and if you want to send a check, email me and I will send you a snail mail address. I also have a private mailing list for those of you who like the info to land on your email-doorstep.

See you soon?

Come One, Come All. Come Hungry To Learn!

Labels: bay area, chefs, culinary education, dessert, farmers markets, fruit, local, organic, organic farmers, shuna lydon, summer

My friend was planning to start his 37th year with a proper feast at his favorite restaurant, Old Krakow. Before the call, I was trying to decide what to do with a few random ingredients that were taking up space in my small kitchen: some spotted bananas, some milk chocolate, a bag of toasted hazelnuts, a block of cream cheese. After the call, I pulled out my cake pans and began baking.


Bob's Chocolate Banana Birthday Cake included layers of moist banana cake, chocolate ganache filling, sliced fresh bananas, cream cheese frosting and toasted hazelnuts.

I didn't have much time. We (the birthday cake and I) had to be at the restaurant in two hours, so there was no room for any fussiness. Lots of old tricks helped shaved 5 minutes here, 30 minutes there. The most important were:

- To cream still-frozen butter: Cut the butter in chunks with a sharp knife, add to the mixer and wave a hair-dryer over the butter. Occasionally direct the hot air to the outside of the bowl to warm the butter from beneath. (To free up both hands, wet a towel, wrap it in a circle and nest beneath the bowl; it will sit snugly in place as you stir or blend.)

- Bake the batter in a large sheet pan rather than regular layer pans. With only 1 inch of batter, the cake bakes in 15 minutes. Cutting it crosswise into three or four strips makes easily stacked, easily frosted layers that form a distinctive rectangular cake.

- Prop the cake in a wide-open window. Ten minutes in SF's cold summer wind was enough to cool the cake completely.

- Cream cheese frosting is simple to make, a breeze to spread and holds up well over a couple of hours or a couple of days. The hair-dryer trick comes in good use here, too.

- Use a soup spoon to make attractive swirls on top of the cake. Pressing finely chopped nuts onto the sides on the cake is an easy way to finish the cake while hiding a fast frosting job.

- Dab a spot of frosting on the platter before placing the first layer down. It will act as "glue" to keep the cake from sliding right off the platter and onto the floor of the car.


Place the cake on an upturned bowl or pot to frost the cake. I reinforced the bottom of the cake with a piece of cardboard wrapped in foil. Setting the cake over a tray while coating with a glaze or with nuts allows me to catch and reuse overflow.

Although I was a few minutes late, I scored a parking space right in front of the restaurant and arrived before the drink orders were even taken. The folks at Old Krakow were gracious enough to chill the cake for us while we lingered over dinner.

This restaurant is the one reason I make my way out to West Portal. Its quiet dining room is a rarity unto itself, but sitting at a real dining room table, with comfortable chairs and the full complement of inserts, always makes me feel like I'm enjoying a special meal at someone's home. The friendly, unhurried service helps settle me into a leisurely meal. The best thing, of course, is the food itself.


Garlic soup: so simple, so satisfying.

I always succumb to an entree -- usually the breaded pork chops -- but I'm pretty sure I could enjoy an entire meal of just soup and my own plate of pierogi. Order the borscht if you must. However, the mushroom soup is paradise in a spoon, while the garlic soup's simplicity hides an incredibly fulfilling, flavorful broth. Pickle soup doesn't appear on the menu, so be sure to ask your server; it's a must try for anyone who likes a hint of tartness with their savory.

If you're with a larger party, you must try the full range of appetizers, from pickled herring and beef tartar to beet salad and marinated mushrooms. Keep in mind that portions are large. There's a "lighter fare and sides" section of the menu, but all things being relative, potato dumplings and kielbasa are lumped in there with mushroom crepes and sauteed cabbage. The kitchen is also happy to split entrees. Our favorites for the evening were the stew, the stuffed cabbage, the duck and -- of course -- the breaded pork chops.


A plate of mushroom-filled pierogi topped with perfectly caramelized onions.

Our servers cut and plated the chocolate banana cake tableside for our party. Someone in the kitchen had even piped out "Happy Birthday!" on the top in chocolate for the guest of honor.

Old Krakow
385 West Portal Ave (btwn 14th & 15th)
San Francisco
(415) 564-4848

If you've never tried Polish food, this is certainly the place to experience an Old World meal. Old Krakow lends itself well to celebrating special occasions with a comfortable, casual feel. Don't mind their totally amateur website; it's proof that you'll get good home-cooking, not slick style.

Labels: baking, dessert, polish, restaurants, thy tran

I lined up plates in the order they appeared on the menu. This trick helps cooks plate food with speed and efficiency during a busy service.

Last week many of you participated in having a bit of fun with your food. You played The Plated Dessert Menu Game! Although it began as a lark, I must admit I might make this a regular thing if I get another pastry chef job in a restaurant. Many of you created a menu the likes of which I would not have thought of myself! Thank you! (I hope, of course, that it means you are adventurous eaters as well, supporting dedicated pastry chefs wherever you eat...)

Every day since the dessert tasting/job interview, my phone voicemail and email inbox has been full of one question, "So, how did it go?" But I don't know what to say. They sat, I plated, we ate, we talked, I left. There were 6 of them and one of me. The chef I've been discussing this position with for the last 4 months asked me to speak about what was on the table, another chef asked a lot of questions, a few comments were made and now it's all about the waiting game.



I did get to be really nerdy when it came to talking about the history of butterscotch, and why a graham cracker is called that, and why one need understand osmotic reciprocity when attempting to cook rhubarb. That was extremely fun and satisfying!



And it was amazing to see desserts that had been living in my head, as ideas or a dizzying array of free-floating components, come together on a plate, be set forth in front of humans, and eaten as if they were finished sentences, cohesive concrete visions. Like digital photography, plated dessert making can produce immediate results, an on-the-spot culmination of the conceptual and the actual.

Of course one hopes that one's desserts will also be delicious.

Without further ado, I give you The Menu presented as my dessert tasting on Monday May 14, 2007, 12 noon, at an undisclosed downtown San Francisco restaurant for the purpose of trying out for a pastry chef job:

Butterscotch Pot de creme with Pecan Shortbread
-- Extra component: chantilly.
Cherries & Cream, a Napoleon with Poetic License
-- Double vanilla shortbread, carnaroli rice pudding infused with California Bay Laurel, cherries reduced in cherry vinegar and pitted cherries au natural.
Ricotta Cheesecake with Crunchy Poached Rhubarb
-- Served with rhubarb-rose geranium sauce.
Warm Milk Chocolate with Various Chocolate Textures and Malted Ice Cream
-- El Rey milk chocolate veloute baked atop Devil's Food Cake lifted by cocoa meringue, warmed by hot fudge sauce and garnished with malt ice cream sitting on candied cacao nibs.
Hot Doughnuts with Blushing Sugar and An Egg Cream Chaser
-- Pate a choux doughnuts rolled in sugar made with mesquite flour, fleur de sel and ground cacao nibs served with vanilla bean egg cream.
Bright Lemon Baked Alaska, Brown Butter and Shuna's Famous Graham Crackers
-- Shuna's famous graham crackers sitting against lemon sherbet and brown butter ice cream hiding under torched Swiss meringue.


The cherry Napoleon.


Warm Milk Chocolate with Various Chocolate Textures and Malted Ice Cream.

I've written about a number of plated dessert tastings I've done in the past few years. Interested in knowing more? Click here.

Thank you, all of you, for playing last week's game, reading, imagining, and coming along for the ride!

Labels: chefs, culinary education, dessert, doughnuts, food businesses, games, pastries, restaurants, san francisco, shuna lydon