July 25th, 2009 | 17 Comments
Roasted apricot tarts made better with a scoop of ginger ice cream.
Oh, apricots. How you mock me.
On Saturday, as I ambled along the perimeter of the farmer’s market nearby, I spotted these. They sang their siren song. I had to have them.
And then I got them home and my world fell apart. Before I even had a chance to put down the keys, I reached into the carton, took a big, greedy bite, and…
Read more and see it come together...July 21st, 2009 | 54 Comments
Ok, ok. You have to have lemon curd on hand first.
Ugh, lemon curd. Sounds like something you churn up in a barn. But despite its rather unpleasant sounding name, it is one of the most valuable recipes to have in your repertoire. Not only does it taste incredible, like a lemon exploded in not only your mouth but the immediate surrounding area, it’s as versatile as Johnny Depp. You can use it simply to top off a scone or as a dip for shortbread, slather some between cake layers (coconut or yellow cake work great), or pipe some in a tart shell and top with fruit for an insta-tart.
When I was a wee pastry assistant at my first restaurant job, the pastry chef (and the chef that I now consider my mentor) taught me how to make lemon curd. Because we always made large batches of everything, my setup consisted of a bowl the size of a satellite dish parked over a heavy-duty pot of boiling water. Dozens of eggs were cracked and cases of lemons were juiced into this monster basin.
Read more and see it come together...July 17th, 2009 | 23 Comments
When I was an impressionable young teenager, I spent many a lazy summer afternoon splayed out on the outdoor deck, flipping through my parents’ food magazine subscriptions. Sooner or later, hunger would win out, and I’d get up off my ass long enough to attempt one of the recipes. Like a typical ungrateful youth, I held out my hand, begging for grocery money and a ride to the store. After a couple of hours, my sorry “creation” would be served—typically something like a dense turd of a shortcake, or a zucchini bread so wet and leaden, you could wring juices out of it. The folks were good sports about it, graciously sampling all the horrors that crawled out of the kitchen.
One particular day, I was leafing through said periodicals and suddenly let out an audible gasp. There, splashed across the page was what was called a crème caramel. It looked like a Miami beach babe, all shiny and glistening, practically quivering in its golden pool. Food porn, if I ever saw it. This was something curious alright, because in Russia they didn’t have anything like it. The desserts I grew up with were tall, over-the-top butter confections, injected with thick layers of buttercream, then coated with more buttery spackle. Don’t get me wrong, those were worthy, and I put away my fair share (or unfair, if you ask the bro), but this crème caramel business was something to behold. It beckoned and purred and I had to have it.
The recipe was intimidating. It asked for steps I’ve never attempted before, like caramelizing sugar, and baking small cups in scalding water. This baby was going to make me work for it. But how would I know if I was doing it right? A little existential crisis ensued over crème caramel. I took a calming breath and very patiently and methodically, followed the recipe.
Read more and see it come together...July 13th, 2009 | 26 Comments
Until you’ve seen your first Red Velvet Cake, odds are you’ve never seen a red cake before. “What’s up with that red cake?” you may ask yourself. “Why, OH WHY, is that cake so red?” You stare at it for a few beats, like a coin some trickster pulled from behind your ear, hoping the it will reveal itself. What IS this witchery?
When I first asked someone to spill the secret about the color, I expected some exotic tale about mad grandmas hunched over their bowls with an eye dropper, adding special elf’s blood that could only be procured after midnight, or tribes on trekking expeditions through African wilderness harvesting red petals off some rare vine. Imagine my disappointment when I was told that it was nothing more than food coloring. A plain ol’ yellow cake with food coloring. Sigh.
Read more and see it come together...July 9th, 2009 | 12 Comments
The People of our Independence Day, that is. Featuring Blueberry Cupcakes today, Red Velvet Cupcakes next time.
This fine year, my boyfriend Scott and I were invited to a Fourth of July pool party. As with most parties, it was likely that a feeding frenzy would take place and I thought it a good idea to contribute to the spread. But since I’m me, I waited till the last minute to give the thing any real thought.
This much I knew: Because time got away from me, it would have to be quick and easy. Because we were traveling by 2 subways, 1 NJ Transit train stuffed with hordes on their way to their own cookouts, and then by car, it would have to be easily transportable. And because I’m not a fan of watching a big dessert get mangled on a buffet table as everyone tries to saw off a piece, it would have to work well as single servings.
Cupcakes.
When such procrastination occurs, I bypass all my cookbooks and recipes, which suck me into browsing and indecision, and head straight to epicurious. It’s really easy to dig up what I’m looking for, and if the reviews are mostly favorable, I tend to find that I’m happy with it too.
Read more and see it come together... 
I had a career going in advertising when one day I got the crazy idea to start over and become a pastry chef. Now I'll show you what I learned working in fine dining restaurants all over NYC right here with step-by-step photos. So grab your rolling pin and join in.
