Apple Cake with Lemon Sauce

Apple picking! Hooray autumn! Thank bloody goodness. I am practically giddy about the crisp, cool, sunny weather. I kicked off autumn this year with a day of apple picking and baking. Regrettably autumn only lasts about 4 days in D.C., days on which I can stand in the sun in a light sweater and breathe in the sickly sweet smells of rotting leaves, before the temperature drops to 40 or below, and I have to dig out the scarves and winter coats. Inconceivable! I do my best to encourage my own little mental lapses, pretending that autumn is a real season in this swampland. I bake as many spicy, sour-sweet recipes full of pumpkins, cranberries and apples, as I can. (And for the record, my love of autumn has nothing to do with the fact that so many of my favorite seasonal flavors translate so harmoniously into desserts. Pure coincidence). Mostly, each autumn I'm determined to make the season last a little bit longer than it did the year before, mostly.

First up, is another recipe card from Great-Grammie's recipe box. After a few hitches earlier this week with her fig square recipe, I thought I would go with an easy one. (I'm coming back to those fig squares, even if I have to make several batches to get it right!) The original apple cake recipe was a little fuzzy on the details, listing "apple slices" and "lemon sauce" but not including the number of apples or how to make the lemon sauce. (I think the lemon sauce recipe may be lost to the annals of cookery). Honestly, as Great-Grammie's recipes go, a few missing instructions are usually the least of my worries.

I was surprised how great this cake came out. While I was mixing the batter, it seemed a little plain; I was worried it wouldn't have enough flavor. I couldn't have been more wrong. The cake itself was light and bouncy, so much so, it was tricky to get out of the pan, squishing down under the pressure of my spatula and popping right back up when I took the spatula away. The apples were also a surprise. I thought they would be dried out, which they were a little, but they were still crisp and juicy when I bit into them. The cinnamon and lemon sauce gave everything a little depth and moisture, which made me want to lick my fingertips and dab up any stray, sticky crumbs. Now I understand what Mom meant when she said, "This cake never got cold in our house."

Apple Cake
(Adapted from Great-Grammie's recipe)

1/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup sugar, plus 2 tablespoons for topping
2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
4 teaspoon baking powder
2 eggs, well beaten
7/8 cup milk (2% or whole)
2 small apples, cored and sliced (I used Jonagold)*
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Lemon Sauce
(Adapted from Bon Appetit, December 1998)

1/3 cup sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
3/4 cup water
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice (from about 1 or 2 lemons)
2 or 3 teaspoons grated lemon peel

Cake
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease an 8x8-inch baking dish. In a large bowl, cream together butter and 1/2 cup sugar. In a medium bowl, mix together flour, salt and baking powder. Mix eggs, milk and dry ingredients with creamed butter and sugar alternatively. Pour batter into greased baking pan. Press apple slices into batter in concentric circles, starting at the outside then moving into the middle. Mix together 2 tablespoons sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over cake. Bake 35 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Serve with lemon sauce.

*To keep your apple slices from turning brown while they wait to be added to your cake, put them in a bowl of water with a couple of splashes of lemon juice. I cut up my apples last, but, of course, forgot to preheat the oven, so they had to wait a bit before being added to the cake.

Lemon Sauce
In a small saucepan, mix together sugar and cornstarch; add water and bring to a boil. Boil for a few minutes until the mixture gets thick. Add lemon juice and grated peel. Remove from heat and cool to room temperature. Spoon over pieces of cake.

Makes about 9 servings.

Peach and Blackberry Cobbler

Do you ever get the feeling that life is moving too quickly? Do you wonder: did I really get enough sun-soaked outdoor time or smokey, campfire-roasted marshmallows this summer? Did I swim enough? Did I take full advantage of those golden afternoons on my balcony, when a cold beer and a cool breeze can feel just shy of heaven? Did I savor the overwhelming freshness and clarity that is so essential in summer foods? Call me a pessimist, but as the summer draws to a close, I can't help but wonder if I lived it to the fullest, catching every last morsel of that special joy that only summer can provide. At those times, I think back to all the things that define the season for me, like peaches.

Mom loves peaches. I have vivid memories of vacationing down the Cape, sitting around whatever cottage the family had rented, playing gin and watching Mom eat peaches. It is always amazing to me, the kind of subtle, non-traditions that seem to seep into my memory such as Mom's love of peaches. For me, peaches mean comfort and an easy relaxation that can only come with time spent at the beach, with no cell phones, blackberries or laptops. Just good food and good company. Away from the things of man, my love. Away from the things of man. 

Peach and Blackberry Cobbler
(Adapted from Ruth Reichl's blog)

4 large peaches, peeled
8 or 9 oz. blackberries
1/2 lemon
1/2 cup sugar
1 tbsp. cornstarch

1 cup flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp nutmeg
pinch of salt
1/2 stick of cold unsalted butter, cut into small chunks
1/3 cup buttermilk

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Slice peaches over a glass pie plate, making sure to capture any juices from the fruit. Add blackberries. Squeeze half a lemon over fruit and toss with sugar and cornstarch.

In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking powder, soda, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. Using your hands, work in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Slowly mix in the buttermilk, making sure the dough is not too moist. Plop spoonfuls of dough on to the fruit. Sprinkle dough with sugar and bake for 30 minutes. Serve immediately, preferably with vanilla ice cream.

Raspberry Lime Popsicles

These days it seems like everyone has a strategy for dealing with the heat. The blogs are buzzing with homemade ice creams and frozen treats. So when Mom handed down these Tupperware Ice Tups molds, I knew I had to find a use for them. (Raspberries!)  The Tupperware molds are totally timeless and work great, but I can't help but want these Cuisipro Sailboat Popsicle Molds. How cute are they? What could scream summer leisure time more than cute little sailboats? Adorable!

These pops were super tangy, which I love, but the thyme wasn't as pronounced as I would have hoped. Oh, well, I guess I'll just have to make more!

Raspberry Lime Popsicles with Thyme 
(adapted from this Gourmet recipe)

1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup water
2 or 3 springs of fresh thyme
4 cups fresh raspberries (about 16 oz.)
2/3 cups fresh lime juice (from about 3 limes)

Combine sugar, water and thyme in a small saucepan. Heat until sugar completely dissolves. Cool.  Discard thyme.

Blend half of the raspberries and half the lime juice in a blender until smooth. Add syrup, remaining raspberries and lime juice and blend until smooth. Force puree through a fine-mesh sieve into a large bowl, pressing on the raspberry seeds and then discard them.

Pour mixture into molds. Freeze. If using molds without lids, wait a an hour or two, until pops are slushy and insert sticks. Freeze for 6-8 hours.

Interstellar Renegades and Cast Iron Cookware

So I learned something about myself since starting this blog. I really enjoy watching Sci-Fi while I bake. I know; I'm baffled by it, too. I think it has something to do with the fact that when I first got big into baking, I coincidentally received Star Trek The Original Series season one on Blu-ray. It goes without saying that I was watching Star Trek more or less non-stop and there just so happened to be baking involved. Now, I have some sort of Pavlovian association between baking and Sci-Fi. Stranger still, it totally doesn't carry over to savory or meal type dishes. Figure that out.

Recently, someone reminded me how much I love the now defunct series Firefly. If you haven't seen it, Netflix it. It is wicked awesome. So, I thought, what could be more appropriate for a Western set in Space than a little cooking with cast iron, right? I said to myself, Self, if I'm ever an interstellar renegade, hopping from third world planet to third world planet, I am sure as shootin' gonna be clinging to my cast iron cookware. You never know when you might need it, for cooking or self defense.

"We're not gonna die. And do you know why? Because we are so very pretty." 

I love tomatoes. I really really do. Fruit, veggie, whatever. I will never get tired of the tomatoes. Tomatoes as a dessert was too darn temptin' to pass up. You mean I can sneak tomatoes into a whole 'nother course? Hot damn! This dessert was a leap of faith, but I was handsomely rewarded. It was sweet and fresh tasting, with a funny kind of dessert pizza feel. Enjoy!

Tomato Tarte Tatin
(Adapted from this August 2010 Bon Appetit recipe)

8 or 9 large roma tomatoes
3 1/2 tbsp. unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 cup sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 sheet of frozen puff pastry dough, thawed, (rolled out, if necessary) and trimmed to a 10" round (to suit the size of your skillet)
1 cup heavy whipping cream
2 tbsp confectioners sugar

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.  Fill a medium saucepan with water and boil. While the water is warming up, cut a shallow X in bottom of each tomato. Blanch tomatoes, a few at a time, until skins begin to peel, about 15 to 30 seconds. Using slotted spoon, transfer blanched tomatoes to a bowl of ice water to cool. Repeat with remaining tomatoes. Peel tomatoes, halve lengthwise, cut out cores and remove seeds. (This step takes a few minutes to do). 

(These tomatoes totally look like the eggs from Alien, don't they?)

Slice butter and spread over the bottom of an ovenproof skillet. My skillet is a 10" cast iron skillet, but any size, give or take an inch should work. Sprinkle sugar evenly over the butter. Arrange tomato halves, rounded side down, bottoms pointing out, in concentric circles.

Warm skillet to medium heat. Cook until sugar and butter are reduced to a deep amber syrup, about 25 minutes. Move tomatoes around occasionally to make sure they aren't burning or sticking.

Meanwhile, tackle the pastry. I used the better part of a 14 oz. frozen pastry sheet, which was a little smaller than the diameter of my skillet.  If you need to roll out your pastry a bit, do so on a lightly floured surface, using a floured rolling pin. Once you have to size you like, cut pastry into a round a little bit bigger than your skillet.

Remove skillet from heat. Pour vanilla extract over tomatoes and transfer pastry round to skillet. It is ok if you're pastry doesn't exactly fit the skillet. If the pastry is larger than your skillet, tuck the extra pastry down with a knife or spatula. Cut a couple of slits in the pastry, and bake until it is deep golden brown, about 20 - 25 minutes. 

Remove from oven and cool in skillet for 10 minutes. While the tart is cooling, mix together confectioner's sugar and cream in a medium bowl. Using a hand mixer, beat together until stiff peaks begin to form. 

Loosen pastry around the edges with a knife or spatula. Place large plate over skillet. Using oven mitts, invert skillet over plate, and give a little shake until you feel the tart drop onto the plate. Carefully lift off the skillet. Rearrange any tomato halves that may have moved. Serve warm with a dollop of whipped cream.

Fig "Pop-Tarts"

Nummy.

Do you want to know something crazy? When I was little, I didn't know that figs were a kind of fruit. For some reason, I thought the "fig" in Fig Newton was part of a proper or brand name like Isaac Newton. I seriously thought that the stuff inside a Fig Newton was some kind of processed jam composite that Nabisco had invented. I should note that when I was five, I also thought that Han Solo was Luke Skywalker's father, so I guess I wasn't always big on details.

Now that I have discovered the fabulousness that is figs, I am catching up with a vengeance. Figs are such a gift to the kitchen (and the cook). They are so versatile. Figs can go sweet or savory at the cook's whim. My favorite way to eat them is combined with salty or tangy flavors and watch the wave of taste sensations ensue. For example, they make a great late night study-break snack. Cut some dried figs in half, put a crumble of blue cheese on top and lightly warm the fig halves in the toaster oven (or zap in the microwave). Pop them into your mouth while they are warm. This little snack also makes a good hors d'oeuvre, if you can stand to share them.

For this adventure, I decided to try for the sweet, rather than savory. These tarts are my first attempt at cooking with figs in a straight up desserty way. The tarts came out wonderfully; they were flaky and buttery, with scrumptious, gooey fig centers. The recipe itself is pretty easy. (Note to self: I still need to work on rolling out and transferring dough). You can use whatever kind of preserves or thick jam you like, as long as it has some chunks to it. If you're planning to bring these tarts anywhere, be sure to note that the dough needs to chill and the prepared tarts need to freeze before baking.

Fig "Pop-Tarts"
(Adapted from this Bon Appetit recipe)

2 cups plus 2 tablespoons all purpose flour, plus additional for shaping and rolling
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) chilled, unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
4 tablespoons ice water
8-12 tablespoons fig jam
powdered sugar

In a large bowl, whisk together flour, salt, and sugar. Add butter. Mix in butter until the ingreditents resemble coarse crumbs. I find using my fingers works best. Add ice water a couple of tablespoons as at time, mixing until moist clumps form. Divide the dough in half, shaping each half into a disk, and wrap in plastic. Chill at least 1 hour.

Line two large rimmed baking sheets with parchment paper. On a lightly floured surface, with a lightly floured rolling pin, roll out dough. The original recipe recommends 13x11-inches, but I am not that good at rolling out dough. As long as you can divide your dough evenly into same-sized rectangles, you should be fine. I rolled each disk out to about six rectangles, about 9x8-inches.

Arrange 3 rectangles on each sheet. Spoon 1 or 2 tablespoons of preserves or jam down the center of each triangle. Top with another dough rectangle. Using a fork press down all the edges of each tart to seal (and make look pretty). Using a fork, poke a few holes in the center of the tart. Repeat with the second disk of dough. Freeze tarts for at least 2 hours before baking.

Position oven racks in top and bottom thirds of the oven. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Bake frozen tarts for 25-30 minutes, reversing baking sheets after 15 minutes. Remove tarts form sheets and cool on a cooling rack. Put a kitchen towel or paper towels under rack, optional, but helpful for clean up. Sift powdered sugar over tarts.