Apple of My Eye...

Let's be real for a moment - if you are having a party, especially a dinner party, you probably want to include me on the guest list. Why, you ask? It's not because of my dazzling wit and formidable intellect; it's because I will bring dessert. I will most likely bring dessert whether you ask me or not. It's really not even about you or your gathering, but because I am always looking for an outlet to dispose of the excess baked goods that result from my baking habit.

This is precisely how I found myself in the kitchen whipping up an apple pudding cake, a classic recipe from my mother's somewhat limited baking repertoire. It was the dessert she would prepare whenever she was entertaining or hosting a dinner party, because it was impressively delicious, even if it was somewhat homely in appearance. The addition of a cinnamon-scented, butter-based sauce elevates the moist, heavily spiced cake and adds an elegant touch. I've made it several times before, but it had been such a long time that it was one of the first things that popped into my mind when I discovered that we were invited to Justin's parents' house for Easter dinner.

Sure, transporting the sauce in a separate container would make for unnecessary logistical complications, and we'd also have to figure out a way to reheat both the sauce and cake to make sure everything would be served at the optimal temperature, but I was undeterred. Though not technically difficult or impressive in a conventional sense, I knew I needed to share the unparalleled deliciousness of this cake with my future in-laws as part of my ongoing mission to win my way into their hearts via their stomachs.

Only time will tell if my gamble will pay off, but really, this cake is kind of a sure thing in the flavor department. If you are looking for a dessert to serve at your next gathering and cake decorating isn't your strong suit anyway, please look no further than this recipe -- you seriously can't go wrong with this one. It is so good that your guests are bound to be impressed, no matter what it looks like.

Apple Pudding Cake with Cinnamon Butter Sauce

adapted from Classic Pillsbury Cookbook #153

For Cake:

1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/4 cup butter, softened
1 egg
1 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 cups chopped apples

For Sauce:
1/2 cup unsalted butter
2/3 cups sugar
1/3 cup half-and-half
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350° and grease one 8-inch square pan.

1. In a large bowl, beat brown sugar and butter 2-3 minutes. Beat in egg until combined.

2. Add flour, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Mix well.

3. Stir in apples. Spread batter in greased pan - please note that it may be stiff and hard to spread.
4. Bake for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

5. Meanwile, combine all sauce ingredients in a small sauce pan. Heat over medium heat until butter melts and sauce is hot, stirring frequently.

6. Serve warm sauce over warm cake.

Give The People What They Want...

It is pretty rare for me to have a dish in my kitchen arsenal without a concrete recipe. I am not the kind of cook who throws ingredients in a pot and hopes for the best. I am methodical, and I enjoy having a plan; I think this is why I like baking so much. Even so, there are a few informal dishes in my arsenal that I can put together on the fly, like a simple frittata, or fried rice. Small as this list is, it has grown even smaller this week, as I have apparently created a definitive recipe for mulled apple cider.

I like to make mulled cider whenever I'm hosting a get-together in the cold weather months. Not only is it delicious, it also makes your home smell amazing and especially welcoming to visitors. So far this year, I've made it three times; once when I had Lauren over to hang out, once for my Halloween party, when my guests supplemented it with rum, and now for my cookie exchange yesterday.

While people enjoyed it the first two times, and have always seemed to enjoy it in the past, this last time they raved about it. People asked me what I had done differently, and told me I should do it again. They were so adamant, in fact, that I sifted through the debris left in the bottom of the crock-pot to retrace my steps. Since so many people asked for the recipe, I finally wrote one down, and now hopefully all of us can recreate the magic of this week's mulled apple cider for years to come...

Mulled Apple Cider

1 gallon apple cider (use the kind that they sell in the produce section, not the juice aisle)

4 cinnamon sticks

peel of one orange, cut into one long strip, if possible (try to avoid the pith)

grating of fresh nutmeg

8 allspice berries

6 cloves

3 star anise

Fill up the crock-pot with cider. Add the cinnamon sticks and orange peel. Grate fresh nutmeg over the top. Place the allspice, cloves, and star anise into a tea infuser and place into the pot. Add the lid, and simmer over high heat for an hour. Reduce heat to low to keep warm for serving.

One Bad Apple Don't Spoil The Whole Bunch...

Nobody is perfect. Despite my generally high success rate for trying new recipes, I really ought to consider myself fortunate, because this weekend I finally made one that was a dud. At Mom's request, I was trying to recreate a green apple sorbet that she had sampled at a lavish, multi-course dinner party a couple months ago, which she described as tasting like "cold liquid apples." Knowing my proclivity for creating frozen desserts during the summer months, she asked me to try my hand at making an apple sorbet of my own. However, since I didn't try it myself, I didn't exactly have a lot to go on in terms of inspiration, so I turned to the ordinarily fool-proof recipes of David Lebovitz's The Perfect Scoop, where I found a recipe for Green Apple and Sparkling Cider sorbet that sounded promising.

Sadly, for the first time, one of Lebovitz's recipes let me down. After trekking to the liquor store to track down calvados, the French apple brandy native to the region of Normandy, finding dry non-alcoholic sparkling apple cider at the grocery store, and chopping, cooking, and cooking a pile of green apples in a mixture of cider and some sugar, I had high hopes for my creation. However, after pureeing the fruit and its accompanying liquid (all of which had turned a rather unappealing shade of brown after steeping the gently-cooked apples in the liquid for almost an hour without any lemon juice, as per the instructions), when I added the calvados and took a taste, the unfrozen mix tasted suspiciously like Mott's applesauce. I tried to reserve judgment, as many sorbets don't taste the same before churning as they do after being frozen, but I ended up being proven right. All of my effort resulted in a frozen dessert that tasted like frozen grocery store applesauce.

The texture was odd also: despite the presence of alcohol, which usually lowers the freezing point of sorbets to make them softer and more scoopable, the apple sorbet turned out almost crumbly, like a granita. Still, I shared the sorbet with Mom, since she had been the one to request it in the first place, but she echoed my assessment of it as not being very good, and she was disappointed that it didn't live up to her memory of the original apple sorbet that so inspired her palate.


I'm not going to type up the recipe, because I don't think it's worth making, but I did want to share this experience here to add a touch of reality to the portrait of my life that I'm creating here. I have my bad days in the kitchen just like everyone else. At least I tried to do something nice for my mom, but now I'll be moving on to other (hopefully better) things in my recipe experimentation queue. C'est la vie.

As American As Apple Pie...

As you may or may not have noticed, if there is one thing I do not bake with any frequency, it is pies. I was going to attempt to make one for Pi Day, but got waylaid by illness, and was therefore prevented from baking the first pie in the history of "The State I Am In." Ladies and gentlemen, the time of the pie has come.

After all, there is no dessert as intrinsically associated with pure Americana as apple pie. Interestingly, apple pie was one of the very first desserts I ever tackled on my own: when I was in high school, my friend Taryn and I got the idea that we needed to start learning how to cook, and that the appropriate first project to accomplish this task would be learning to make apple pie. I have no idea how we arrived at this conclusion, but we did. So I invited her over one day, and a box of pre-made pie dough and several pounds of apples later, we had made a mess in the kitchen, and a passable, if not spectacular pie. It was the first, and last dessert pie I ever made, and after that, I gave up on cooking all together for several years until necessity drove me to teach myself how to cook in college.

Now that my baking skills are considerably more advanced, and I'm making a conscious effort to try new recipes and take a break from Martha Stewart and her cookies, I thought it was time to tackle a pie that I found on my favorite food photography aggregation site, Tastespotting.com, a couple months ago. It combined salted caramel, which has quickly risen to hallowed status in my pantheon of favorite things since discovering it a few years ago in Normandy, with apples, and the pairing was too much to resist. Even though the recipe looked daunting, I wanted to give it my best effort.

I actually ended up taking some liberties with the recipe as it was presented online, choosing to view it as more of a ideological jumping off point. I swapped out the crust entirely for a recipe given by Alton Brown. I remembered seeing it ages ago on Good Eats, and I appreciated the fact that I could incorporate lard into it, as I've always heard that lard makes the best pie crust, and it's currently undergoing a culinary revival after years of negative press for being unhealthy. Furthermore, Alton's recipe called for apple brandy, which, as it turns out, I just purchased last week in preparation for another recipe I've got in the works. Using Alton's recipe just seemed to make more sense for me.

I also borrowed part of the methodology from Alton's recipe: he recommends mixing the apples with sugar and to draw out some of the moisture from the apples, then placing them over a colander to drain so that the pie doesn't become soggy and overly juicy from all the liquid present in the raw apples. The baker behind the site where I found the original recipe said she didn't have any trouble with using raw apples, but I figured it was better to be safe than sorry, given my inexperience with pie making.

Finally, I eschewed the inspiration pie's recipe for the salted caramel sauce itself. The original blogger had liberally adapted her recipe for the pie itself from one she'd seen on the Cooking Channel from Four and Twenty Blackbirds, the famous Brooklyn pie shop, so I felt free to ignore her exact proportions. Whereas she'd omitted butter from her caramel sauce, I wanted mine to recall the salted butter caramel I'd eaten in France, so I went hunting on the interwebs and quickly found some advice on the subject from David Leibowitz, my favorite author on the subject of ice cream, and general dessert guru. I trusted him more than some random lady blogger, and with good reason. Although my sauce turned out a bit lumpy (I've only caramelized sugar once that I can remember before), once I'd strained it per David's instructions, it was so delicious I may or may not have licked the sieve. Even if the pie had turned out to be an utter failure, obtaining this salted caramel sauce recipe would have made the entire recipe worthwhile on its own.


Basically, the only things I kept from the original recipe was the amount of sugar and apples in the pie, the assembly method, the bake time, and her method for topping the pie. Instead of creating a lattice crust for the top, as suggested by Four and Twenty Blackbirds, she had created a collage of pie crust hearts on the top of her pie. I liked that idea, but wanted to do stars in honor of the Fourth of July. Somewhat ridiculously, however, when I rummaged through my comically enormous box of cookie cutters, I discovered that I had a Star of David cookie cutter that I'd purchased with the intent of making Hannukah cookies for my Jewish friends at some point, but no ordinary five-pointed stars. I did, however, have a petite apple-shaped cookie cutter, so I decided that would have to suffice, and in the end, I think the results were pretty charming.

Baking this pie was definitely a labor of love. In total, I spent about eight hours on it yesterday (though I took a few television and cleaning breaks here and there), and dirtied an entire dishwasher and sink full of utensils and bowls, but it was totally worth it.

I brought it up to the suburbs today to share with my parents as a surprise. Though I'd told them yesterday to pick up some vanilla ice cream to go with my dessert, neither of them could guess what I had made. Dad was convinced that it was some sort of patriotic cake, along the lines of the flag cake I made last year for the Fourth, whereas Mom predicted a peach cobbler, since I'd mentioned to her that I'd bought a ton of peaches on sale at Jewel on Friday. A pie was so far out of the realm of expectation from me that nobody could have predicted it. I think that both of them were pleasantly surprised.

Dad lauded the crust, which I thought had turned out appropriately tender and flaky, with a nice hint of apple flavor from the inclusion of the apple brandy. Plus, as predicted, Alton's technique for drawing the liquid out of the apples before baking kept the bottom crust from becoming soggy and made the pie easier to remove from the pan. Mom similarly enjoyed the crust; even though she's not a crust person and usually leaves it on the plate, she ate every bite of this one. She also liked the blend of apples I'd selected, which were neither too tart nor too sweet.

For my part, I was very pleased with how the pie turned out, with only one exception -- I felt that the caramel could have had a slightly higher profile in the overall taste. It really came through in some bites, whereas others tasted more of the apples and spices, but given how delicious the caramel was on it's own, I really wanted to get a wallop of caramel in each and every bite. In the future, I might make twice as much caramel in order to put more in the pie itself, and to have some leftover to drizzle on top with some ice cream. Still, I'm going to consider this second pie of my entire baking career to be a overwhelming success. I don't know when I'll get around to trying my hand at another apple pie project, but I'll definitely be making this again, albeit with a couple more tweaks.


Salted Caramel Apple Pie
inspired by If You Give a Girl a Cookie

Salted Caramel Sauce
1 c. white sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
3/4 c. heavy cream
1 1/2 teaspoons fleur de sel

Pour the sugar into the bottom of a heavy 2-3 quart pot. Heat over medium-high to high heat, stirring occasionally, until sugar melts and caramelizes to a deep amber, about the color of an old copper penny. Remove from the heat, and stir in the butter until melted, then the cream. The caramel will seize when the butter and cream are added, but keep stirring until smooth. Add the salt and stir until dissolved. Store in the refrigerator until needed.

Pie Crust (adapted from Alton Brown)
6 oz. unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces and frozen
2 oz. lard, cut into 1/2-inch pieces and frozen
5 to 7 tablespoons apple brandy, stored in the freezer
12 oz. all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting, refrigerated
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar

Combine the flour, sugar, and salt in a large bowl. Using a pastry blender, quickly cut the lard and butter into the flour, until the fat is in roughly pea-size pieces. Sprinkle the cold apple brandy over the flour, and continue to cut the mixture together just until the mixture holds together when squeezed, adding more liquid as necessary. There should still be large chunks of butter and lard visible. Divide the dough in half, shape into flat disks and wrap in plastic. Refrigerate at least 1 hour to overnight.

Pie Spices (adapted from Four and Twenty Black Birds)
1/3 raw turbinado sugar
2 1/2 tablespoons flour
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/8 teaspoon cloves
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg

Pie Filling
5-6 medium to large apples (I used 2 Granny Smiths, 2 Golden Delicious, and 2 Galas)
Juice of three lemons

Assembly
1 egg, beaten
Turbinado sugar, for sprinkling
Fleur de sel, for sprinkling

Preheat the oven to 400.
1. Combine the apple pie spices in a bowl and set aside.
2. Put the lemon juice in a large bowl. One at a time, peel and core the apples, using a mandoline to slice the apples into 1/8 inch pieces. Toss the slices into the lemon juice and toss to coat, to prevent browning.
3. When all the apples are sliced, toss them with the apple pie spices, then place them in a large colander over the bowl to drain. Let sit approximately one hour.
4. Meanwhile, roll out half of the pie crust into a 9-inch circle and press into the bottom of the pie pan, fluting the edge. Return to refrigerator until needed.
5. After an hour has elapsed, squeeze any additional liquid from the apples, and layer 1/3 of the apples on top of the crust, compacting gently. Pour 1/3 of the salted caramel sauce over the apples. Repeat with two additional layers of apple and caramel sauce.
6. Roll out the remaining half of the pie dough and cut with the decorative cookie cutter of your choosing. Collage the crust pieces over the surface of the pie, overlapping the shapes slightly while allowing a few hints of the apples to peak through.
7. Brush the surface of the pie with the beaten egg, then sprinkle liberally with the raw sugar, and sparingly with the fleur de sel.
8. Place the pie on top of a sheet pan to catch drips (it will happen, and it will be messy; trust me, you don't want melted caramel all over the bottom of your oven), and bake for 25 minutes. Reduce the heat to 350 and bake approximately 35 minutes more, until the crust is golden brown. Let cool at least 30 minutes before eating.

(Since the crust is my favorite part of any pie, I always make sure to save some for the last bite.)

Love Me, Love Me...

When I first started working at the museum, I was confronted with a rather unwelcoming corporate culture. I quickly discovered that people did not socialize with people outside their department, and since I work in a department that consists of me and my supervisor, I would go days at a time without talking to anyone all day, since my officemates, Irene and Mireya, only worked part-time. In order to ingratiate myself with my peers, I embarked on an ambitious cookie-baking plan. I figured that if all else failed, I could break the ice with my coworkers, and maybe even bribe them into befriending me. So, for the last few months of 2008, I brought cookies into work once a week, usually on Fridays, and got into a routine of baking Thursday nights while watching Grey's Anatomy.

I became known as the "cookie fairy of the first floor," because I often dropped off my treats in the break room early in the morning, before anyone else showed up to the office. To a certain extent, my plan worked. People became friendlier, and I certainly became popular with the security staff, which is a good crowd of people to have on your side. Eventually, I became closer with Mireya and made friends with Natasha from the gift shop.

However, when I moved up to the administrative floor in 2009, I found myself facing the same problem that had plagued me before -- nobody ever talked to me. As a result, I revisited my cookie strategy, and started regularly baking for my new set of coworkers. Eventually, I earned a small following for my baked goods, and people were talking to me again, even if it was mostly to compliment my baking prowess. At least they knew my name, and most of them figured out I wasn't an intern.

My coworkers have become an invaluable part of my baking hobby. They provide a source of feedback for new recipes, and more importantly, a place to dispose of my experiments so that I don't end up eating all those dozens of cookies myself.

Today, I brought in a new batch of cookies that I baked last night, building off my new-found sense of inspiration from Martha Stewart's Cookies: The Very Best Treats to Bake and Share. (I have other cookie cookbooks, I swear. I just happen to find this one the most inspirational.) This time, I decided to tackle a recipe that has long been on my radar, for Iced Oatmeal Applesauce Cookies. Since apples are among the short list of fruits that I enjoy eating, I had long wanted to give these a try, but the recipe calls for chunky applesauce, which I hate and was reluctant to purchase and leave sitting around the house indefinitely. Now that I have a boyfriend that is less of a picky eater than I am to eat the leftovers, I set about trying the recipe at last.

The results were pleasing, with a nice balance of softness and chew to the texture, and a subtle hint of maple flavoring from the glaze. The applesauce was not a dominant flavor at all, but I was still glad that I added cinnamon to the batter. I had thought that it would pair well with the apples, and even though the apple flavor isn't noticeable, I think the finished product would be a little bland without the extra spice. After less than an hour in the staff kitchen this morning, the cookies were gone -- always a good sign, and I received some good feedback from my coworkers, who found them comforting and homey.

They might not be the fanciest cookies I've made, but the maple icing provides a bit of a flourish that elevates them. I see these as a perfect "mom cookie," something to have on hand as a snack for your kids when they get home from school. They were astonishingly quick and easy to make, which makes them perfect for such a purpose. If you're a mom, or would just like to recreate some of the comforts of home in your own kitchen, I'd certainly recommend giving these a try.


Iced Oatmeal Applesauce Cookies
adapted from Martha Stewart

For the cookies:
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1 c. light brown sugar, packed
1/2 c. sugar
1 large egg
1/2 c. chunky applesauce
1 1/2 c. old-fashioned rolled oats
1 1/4 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 c. raisins (optional)

For the icing:
1 c. powdered sugar
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup
2 tablespoons water

Preheat oven to 350.
1. Put the melted butter and both sugars in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, and stir together on low until combined. Add egg and applesauce, and mix until well-blended, 2-3 minutes. Mix in oats, flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Mix in raisins, if using.
2. Spoon tablespoons of dough onto a parchment-lined baking sheet, 2 inches apart. Bake cookies until golden and just set, about 13-15 minutes. Let cool on sheets 5 minutes, then remove to cooling racks to cool completely before icing.
3. Whisk icing ingredients together in a small bowl and drizzle over cookies. Let set completely before eating.