Wheeeee! This crazy, verging on Mardi Gras, merry-go-round of chocolate decadence, this Amazonian cupcake, was my creation for my mom’s 80th birthday–just celebrated Sunday. Its ingredients were inspired by her abiding love of chocolate in its myriad forms, and its wack-a-doodle look was inspired really, by her joyous take on life.

My mom has always had boundless energy and interests: watercolor artist, art and music teacher, girl scout leader, bowler, bridge player, NYTimes crossword puzzler. She turned her wedding dress into curtains, turned our garage into a craft cranny workshop, turned every picture in the house upside down to see if my dad would notice.

The little string of phrases underneath her senior picture (from the 1948 annual “The Crusader” Mary Louis Academy–an all girls Catholic high school in Jamaica, Long Island, New York) , particularly the last one, always makes me smile:

“pretty as a picture…plays a solid saxophone….laughing brown eyes…

…Fascinating, and a little different.”

Yes, ma’am. To honor this fascinating-and-a-little-different person, I made two cakes into one. The base was a triple-layered sour cream chocolate cake: dark, dense yet moist. The domed top was a chocolate-mousse filled zucotta–incredibly rich yet light: a spectacular (and simple) dessert alone.

From the Italian zucotto for “Skullcap”, a zucotta is a ladyfinger lined, mousse-filled bowl. When chilled and inverted, it makes a cool dome shape that can be further embellished with a smooth coating of ganache.

When placed atop an already over-the-top dessert it became a wild monument to chocolate: a monument whose assembly nearly ended in disaster . The dome almost toppled mid-flight before its precarious three-tier landing. And then, the construction reminded me of a thatched beehive hut we visited in Ethiopia. Yes, this creation was shaping up to be a contender for Cake Wrecks.

Be assured, there is much that can be remedied with more frosting, a long cake spatula, and a pastry bag filled with cocoa whipped cream. And the notion that, when something is meant to be ostentatious, More is Better.

The recipes that follow will make 1 large zucotta–which will serve 12-15, and 1 10″ layer cake to split or 2 9″ layers. Either Zucotta or Sour Cream Chocolate Cake is Lovely-Lovely by itself—you don’t have to go All Fascinating and Little Different if don’t want to!

Chocolate Zucotta

one 4 qt. glass bowl
2 pkgs. plain Ladyfingers

9 oz. Bittersweet Chocolate, coarsely chopped
12 T. unsalted Butter, cut into small pieces
4 T. Espresso, or strong Coffee
2 T. Vanilla
3 T. Crème de Cacao
6 Eggs, separated
1/2 cup Sugar
1 cup Heavy Cream, lightly sweetened and whipped

Line the bowl with plastic wrap, with ends coming over the sides.
Then, line the interior of the bowl with ladyfingers. Brush with creme de cacao and set aside.

In a heavy 1 qt. saucepan under low heat, melt the chocolate and coffee together.

Whisk in the vanilla and creme de cacao. Then, stir in the butter, one chunk at a time, until it becomes smooth and shiny. Remove from heat.

Using an electric mixer and balloon whisk, beat the egg yolks and sugar together until the yolks become really pale yellow and thickened, almost triple in volume. This will take several (at least 5) minutes. The yolks will cling to the whisk.

Your chocolate mixture should be warm—but not hot.
Beat it into the thickened egg yolks, and pour into another large mixing bowl.
Clean and dry your mixer bowl and whisk. Beat the egg whites until stiff and glossy. Fold the whites into the chocolate mixture.

Fold in whipped cream. Pour mixture into lined bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight.

When well-chilled and set, unmold onto a platter or plate. Skim-coat with chocolate frosting and/or Cover with chocolate ganache. Decorate with fresh strawberries, whipped cream.

Chocolate Ganache
1 cup Heavy Cream
1 cup Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips
1 t. Vanilla

Heat cream gently–to a simmer. Stir in chocolate chips and vanilla. Stir until melted and glossy. Remove from heat. While warm, but not hot, pour over the zucotta. Chill and serve.

I used a 4 qt. glass bowl, with a diameter similar to the cake. Short on time, I used packaged ladyfingers, although I have recipe posted here for them, if you’d like to make them yourself.

This filling is similar to my basic wonderful chocolate mousse, although this recipe has whipped cream folded into the batch.

After this sets up—-overnight is best—-it unmolds quite easily.

Here, I “skim-coated” the zucotta with some sour cream chocolate frosting, left over from the cake. It’s now ready for the dark chocolate ganache.

Sour Cream Chocolate Cake
2 oz. Unsweetened Chocolate
1/2 cup chopped Bittersweet Chocolate
1/2 cup Cocoa
2 sticks Unsalted Butter
2 cups Sugar
1 cup Coffee
1 cup Sour Cream
1 T. Vanilla
3 Eggs
2 t. Baking Soda
1/2 t. Salt
2 1/2 cups All Purpose Flour

In a microwaveable bowl, place the first 5 ingredients and heat for about one minute–until chocolate and butter is melted. Remove, stir, and heat again for another 1/2 minute, so that sugar is dissolved.

Stir in coffee, vanilla, and sour cream. Beat in eggs, one at a time.

Sift flour, soda, and salt together. Beat into wet mixture.

Pour batter into greased 10″ cake or springform pan or 2 9″ cake pans.
Bake in 350 degree oven 35-40 for the 10″/25-30 minutes for the 9″.

Cool. Split 10″ cake to frost.

Sour Cream Chocolate Frosting
1 1/2 cups Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips
1/4 cup strong Coffee
2 sticks softened unsalted Butter
1 t. Vanilla
1 cup Sour Cream
3 cups Confectioners Sugar

Melt chocolate chips and coffee together–stir until smooth.
Beat softened butter with vanilla. Beat in sour cream, cooled (but not hard) chocolate. Beat in confectioners sugar, one cup at a time.
Taste for sweetness and adjust.

Crazy-Messy, and Oh-So-Good. Voted best cake ever—and best party ever—by the River Rest residents….

One Year Old. (not the cake….the blog!)

I hadn’t intended for this post to be a dessert one, but suddenly, in the whirl of The Season, I realized that this little Good Food Matters blog had passed a milestone. A whole year old on the 16th. (!)

So, in honor of It–the persistence of its existence—and You, the persistent dear reader, I present this most delicious cake, recently made for our friends visiting from Italy, and their guests.

Now, there are carrot cakes, and there are Carrot Cakes. I took my long-time, well-proven recipe and tweaked it by substituting fruity olive oil for the common, neutral vegetable oil. What a difference!

The result was extraordinary—the richness of the olive oil enhanced and deepened the spicing of the cake, while retaining moist texture.

That, coupled with raisins, organic carrots which are sweeter, and you can effectively cut back on the sugar. (Had there been pineapple in the house, I would have included 1/2 cup of diced bits, too.) My original recipe called for 2 cups, but I found that 1 1/2 cups total, combining both brown and white sugar, was just right. However, if you like a sweeter cake, boost the sugar back up to 2. It’s okay.

This recipe will make two 9″ layers, or one 9″x13″ rectangle. For my friends’ party, I doubled the recipe to make this grand confection.

The cream cheese icing is rather silky, luxurious, and also not-too-sweet. Fresh lemon juice and zest, along with vanilla, enliven the butter-cream cheese blend. Be sure that both are soft before you cream them together—that way they will marry smoothly.

After the two are well blended, I add the lemon and vanilla. The flavors infuse better. Confectioners sugar is added last, which you are welcome to increase to your taste. I like that dulcet tang to come through, and so am judicious with adding the powdery stuff.

So, here’s to a blog birthday, and all the season’s best.

From here at Good Food Matters,
I wish you all love, health, and happiness,
and, of course,

good food and company.

Cheers!

Olive Oil Carrot Cake

1 cup Olive Oil
3 cups shredded Carrots
1 1/2 to 2 cups Sugar—divide equally between Brown and White
4 eggs
1/2 cup Pecans
1/2 cup Raisins
2 cups All Purpose Flour
2 t. Baking Powder
1 t. Baking Soda
1 t. Salt
2 t. Cinnamon
1 t. Nutmeg
1 t. Ginger
1/2 t. Cloves

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, and lightly coat cake pans.
Using a mixer, blend all the “wet” ingredients together. Add raisins and pecans, pineapple too, if you like. (These ingredients are optional. You can make it simply carrot.)
Add dry ingredients and mix until all are well-incorporated.
Pour into baking pans, and place into the middle of the oven. Bake for approximately 30 minutes, or until center tests done.

Allow to cool. Remove from pans. Let cool further before icing.
Note: This cake freezes well. It also stays moist for a long time, wrapped, so you can safely make the cake in advance.

Cream Cheese Icing
12 oz. Cream Cheese, softened
4 oz. (1 stick) Butter, softened
3 T. (or more) fresh Lemon Juice
1 T. Lemon Zest
1 T. Vanilla
1 1/2 cups Confectioners Sugar

Using an electric mixer (I am fortunate to have a Kitchen Aid stand mixer–and I use the paddle attachment for this.) cream the softened butter and cream cheese together. Add lemon juice, zest, and vanilla and mix well. Add the confectioners sugar–about 1/2 cup at a time, mixing until smooth.

Taste for lemon and vanilla, as well as sweetness; add more as you see fit.

Bill always wants a pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. Never before, and rarely after the big feast, and yet it is a dessert that he looks forward to eating with gusto. This year, in a move to enliven tradition, I chose to make this pumpkin treat instead.

While it is a cheesecake, it doesn’t have the same heft, that ponderous commitment to dessert that defines cheesecake. This one has all the spiciness of pumpkin pie, with the cream cheese imparting a nice tang. The gingersnap-pecan crust, simple to make, adds a distinctive crunch.

The best part, however, is the cultured whipped cream. It’s part creme fraiche, part mascarpone, totally divine.

And, one of those happy accidents.

My original intention was to make creme fraiche, but I got started a day late. After stirring in the buttermilk, I waited a bit, and on a whim decided to stir in some fresh clementine juice. (Hurray, the clementines are here!)

Overnight, the mix thickened somewhat, but acquired a more complicated and pleasing flavor–slightly sour, slightly citrus.

It whipped up beautifully, sweetened with a little confectioners sugar, and made a stunning accent on the pumpkin cheesecake.

Verdict: Enjoyed by all. Even Bill approved of the little change-up.

And, while we may or may not see pumpkin in some sweet form until next year, the cultured whipped cream will be showing up with another delectable dessert soon. Very soon.

Pumpkin Cheesecake Gingersnap-Pecan crust
12-14 Gingersnaps
1 cup Toasted Pecans
2 T. melted Butter

In a food processor fitted with a swivel blade, pulse the gingersnaps and pecans together. Mix with melted butter in a bowl, and press into a 9″springform pan. Bake for about 10 minutes in a 350 degree oven. Remove and cool.

Pumpkin Cheesecake Filling
1 lb. cream cheese
3/4 cup Brown Sugar
3/4 cup Sugar
1 lb. pumpkin (one 15 oz. can works)
2 eggs
1 t. Vanilla
1 t. Ginger
1 t. Nutmeg
1/2 t. Cinnamon
1/2 t. ground Cloves
1/4 t. Salt
a pinch or 2 White Pepper

In a large mixing bowl, cream the sugars with the cream cheese. (I used a Kitchen Aid stand mixer with the whisk attachment.) When smooth, add the pumpkin and continue mixing. Then add the eggs, vanilla, and all the spices. Whip until smooth and fluffy.

Pour into springform pan and place in the center of a 350 degree oven. Fill a baking dish with water and set on the rack underneath the cheesecake.

Bake for 50-55 minutes, or until knife comes clean. Cool, then refrigerate.

Decorate with cultured whipped cream and pecans before serving.

Serves 12 or more.

Cultured Whipped Cream
1 cup Heavy Whipping Cream
1 Tablespoon Buttermilk
1 Tablespoon Clementine Juice (or orange/tangerine)

4 Tablespoons Confectioners Sugar
2 teaspoons Vanilla

Pour heavy cream into a glass bowl and stir in the buttermilk. Let this sit out for about an hour, and occasionally give it a stir.
Then, stir in the clementine (or whatever citrus you fancy) juice.
Again, let this sit out for an hour or so, stirring occasionally.

Refrigerate overnight.

Before serving: Whip the cultured cream with confectioners sugar and vanilla.

Pipe or dollop onto the pumpkin cheesecake.

There’s an old large pear tree on Maggie’s property that produces abundantly—-we don’t know its proper name—Maggie says she just known it as a country pear, or canning pear. The skin is tough, a bit mottled, blemished; the interior firm, large-celled—very open to accepting and marrying other flavors.

Last fall, which was Maggie’s first year to experience the pear harvest, was (like many fruit harvests of 2008) overwhelming. Pears everywhere! A preponderance of pears.

I went totally overboard, bringing home a hundred and some odd—-making pear butter, pear vinegar, pear coffeecake, pear pie, pear chutney—-and still having pears to spare. They took over the kitchen!

This year, I have vowed to be more balanced. For my first pick, I brought home 20 pears. Now, that’s manageable! These country pears are most amenable to poaching; you can take them in any flavor profile direction you’d like. Try fresh ginger, brown sugar, and star anise. Or red wine, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Or vanilla beans and rum.

I had some local wildflower honey that was intensely floral; I was convinced it would add something unique to a pear dish. It went into my poaching liquid, along with a little white wine and orange zest.

A pleasing result—still very “peary” but with subtle layers of citrus and lavender.

These poached pear slices melded nicely in a brown sugar-walnut-ricotta layered tart using phyllo dough. Simple, crisp, and not-too-sweet—the sort of treat that you can throw together, in a trice, and enjoy with a cup of coffee.

But these same poached pears would be rather elegantly partnered on the savory end, served with roast chicken or pork:all good food for the season.

More pear recipes to come……

peeling pears in Maggie’s kitchen

Honey Poached Pears
4 cups sliced pears
1/2 cup white wine
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup wildflower honey
zest and juice of 1 Orange
2 t. Vanilla

These are “shallow poached.” Place all ingredients into a large skillet, stirring and tossing so that everything is well mixed. Cook on medium heat, covered, stirring occasionally for 40 minutes. Pears and zest will soften. Uncover and reduce heat, allowing liquid to thicken, and poach for another 15 minutes.

Poached Pear-Ricotta-Phyllo Tart
2-3 cups Poached Pears
1 cup Ricotta, whipped until very smooth (immersion blender or food processor)
1 cup ground walnuts
1 stick melted butter
2 T. brown sugar
Phyllo Dough–thawed, so that it is maleable
pastry brush
8×8 baking pan

In a small bowl, mix ground walnuts, brown sugar and melted butter together. Open up roll of phyllo dough and brush it with this butter-walnut mixture and place it into the baking pan. Repeat with successive layerings, about 8 times, until a frilly crust is formed. Don’t worry if it doesn’t look even or pretty.
Layer in smooth ricotta.
Top with poached pears.
Garnish with walnut pieces.
Bake in 325 degree oven for 25-30 minutes, until phyllo crust is golden brown.
Serve warm or room temperature.

With its layers of phyllo, and ground walnuts with brown sugar, it is vaguely reminiscent of baklava. The ricotta adds a nice bridging layer between the crisp phyllo and the fruit.

The Zero Birthdays are the BIG ones—there’s something about marking off the decades, these milestones, that stirs the ethers. Memories are conjured. People bubble up from the past. Karmic ties either unravel, or tighten. (We prefer unraveling…)

In a way–as a matter of reflection of life and times past–the event is as significant to family members and friends as it is to the birthday person. Herself.

This past weekend we celebrated my daughter’s 30th Birthday.
We threw a big wild wonderful party. With LOTS of family, friends, food.
And Gypsy Music. Dancing.

And this magnificent Mocha Fudge Torte.

When I first asked my daughter what kind of cake would she like, she told me she’d have to think about it and get back with me. A couple of days passed when she called,

“Momma, you used to make this really good chocolate cake that had coffee flavored icing. Sometimes you soaked the cake with a raspberry liqueur.”

“Ah! The Mocha Fudge Torte!” I said. I had totally forgotten about it. And, yes, sometimes I did brush some Chambord liqueur onto the layers. I recalled the little round bottle with the royal gold plastic banding and plastic gold crown top—so 1980s!!!!

“Yes! That’s what I want.”

This is such a delicious cake; how could I have forgotten it? The coffee cream cheese icing alone is divine enough to eat in great spoonfuls. Oddly, it’s about the only recipe where I use instant coffee. Trust me, this is what it takes to get that rich coffee flavor while still maintaining the integrity of the frosting. The Chambord is truely not critical to the cause. Madeleine and I sampled it on a piece of leveled cake while I was assembling, and decided it was frou-frou.

Three types of chocolate go into the batter.

Mix the batter by hand, if you like. I love being low-tech when I can.

I actually prefer making the cake in one deep pan, and then splitting the layer. The cake seems moister that way.

MOCHA FUDGE TORTE

The CAKE
2 oz. unsweetened chocolate
½ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
½ cup cocoa
2 sticks butter
2 cup sugar
1 cup strong coffee
1 cup milk
1 Tablespoon vanilla
3 eggs
2 ½ cups flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
parchment paper to line 1 deep 10”springofrm pan, or 2 9”cake pans
baking spray

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Cut parchment paper into circles (trace around the cake pans). Lightly spray inside of cake pans, line with parchment and spray again.
Place both kinds of chocolate, cocoa, sugar, butter, coffee, milk, and vanilla in a microwaveable bowl and heat in microwave for 3 minutes. Stir, and repeat if chocolate is not melted. Stir until smooth and sugar is dissolved.
In a separate bowl, sift the dry ingredients together.
Whisk eggs into chocolate mixture, one at a time.
Finally mix in the dry ingredients.
Pour into cake pan(s). If using 1 10”springform, bake in the middle of the oven for 35-40 minutes. If using 2 9”cake pans, bake in the middle of the oven for 25 minutes.
Cool. Remove from pans. If using 10″spring pan, split the layer in half.

I rarely measure confectioners sugar, or vanilla, or the instant coffee—these are approximations that I think will work. I always add a little, and then sample, and then adjust.

INTENSE COFFEE CREAM CHEESE FROSTING
12oz. softened Cream Cheese
4 oz. (1 stick) softened Butter
2 cups Confectioners Sugar
2 Tablespoons Instant Coffee dissolved in
1 Tablespoon Vanilla

Dark Chocolate covered Espresso Beans (optional garnish)

Using a mixer, cream the butter and cream cheese together. Add confectioners sugar and
dissolved vanilla-coffee syrup. Beat well, and taste for coffee flavor and sweetness.
Adjust if necessary.

The Assembly
A Lazy Susan and long flat spatulas help the cause! Level the cake, by slicing off the little rounded top. Place a mound of frosting in the center of the first layer and spread out to the edges. Place second layer on top. Place another mound of frosting on the top, spreading out to the edges, and smoothing over the sides. Slowly rotate the lazy susan, while holding the spatula in place to bring the frosting evenly around the cake. Set in refrigerator to set up before decorating.

Note: I doubled my recipes for both cake and icing for my daughter’s cake to make it extra BIG with three layers (and the fourth layer is in the freezer…)

Thank goodness that we had a bountiful plum harvest. I suppose I’ll have to thank the squirrels for that.

Unlike the birds, (actually one very clever mockingbird) who—despite all the netting–managed to get 95% of our blueberry crop, the squirrels were equitable. They gave us a fifty-fifty cut of the plum share–more than enough to make this delicious tart—-and plenty of other plumgood things.

I also picked these beauties just as they were getting that first blush, and allowed them to ripen in a great bowl in my kitchen. This helped keep things fair and balanced (!) with our bushy-tailed friends.
(Blueberries, regrettably, won’t continue to ripen once picked. Birds could care less.)

I enjoyed monitoring the plum ripening process; the colors ranged from light green to red violet. Spectacular.

It’s pretty simple to prepare the plums. I wash and stem them, then toss them whole into a large pot. I add a cup of water, a cup of sugar, turn the heat on low, and allow them to simmer. Over time, the juices come out, the skin dissolves, and the pulp cooks and thickens. You can add more sugar if you like. I start out with a small amount, in case I want to use the mixture in something savory. You can always make it sweeter.

Eventually, you’ll have a batch of cooked plums, with pits that are not difficult to fish out of the pot. It’s thick, tangy, and ready to use for preserves, sauces, or vinaigrettes.

Or, this luscious tart.

I was inspired by a posting on Joy of Cooking foodblog. Joy Ramirez presented an Italian sweet pastry crust recipe that she uses with marmalade—-crostata di marmellata. I thought this could be perfect to use with my plums, although my preserves as filling on their own might be too much. Then, I recalled a cream cheese pie that I used to make. If my preserves were cooked as both base and topping with an almond cream cheese filling, it could be just right.

It’s rich, and a little different, in a good way. I love the look of the plum stripes against the cream; the stripe at the bottom of the tart takes people by surprise. I brought it to a party recently; one of the guests eating a piece said, “This is ridiculous!” In a good way.

Sweet Italian Pastry Crust (makes enough for 2 crusts)
12 T. chilled unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/4 cup sugar
1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
2 cups all purpose flour
pinch salt
2 T. icy water

In a food processor outfitted with a pastry cutter, pulse together all the ingredients, until it forms a large mass. Divide the dough in half, form into balls, and wrap in plastic. (You may freeze the additional doughball.)

Let the dough rest in the refrigerator for at least an hour. (can be made up ahead the day before.)

Almond Cream Filling
12 oz. cream cheese, softened
3/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 t. almond extract

Mix all ingredients until well blended.

1 1/2–2 cups Plum Preserves
1/2 cup chopped toasted almonds

The Assembly

Roll out pie crust and fit over pie or tart pan, pressing and crimping.
Spread about 1 cup of plum preserves over the bottom of the tart.
Add almond cream cheese filling.
Bake uncovered at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes. When the top feels set, spoon remaining plum mixture over the top, spreading it so that it covers entirely. Sprinkle with almonds and return the tart
to the oven to cook for another 5 minutes. Turn off the oven and allow the tart to sit undisturbed for 10 minutes.

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Be-bop-a-Roo-bop-a-Rhu-Barb-Pie

That funny little song that Garrison Keillor intones on Prairie Home Companion runs a continuous loop in my mind whenever I cook with, as one of my young student chefs calls it, “that red celery stalk.” That doesn’t happen too often, and it usually manifests in this lively tart dessert.

Adapted from a recipe that I found in the April 2007 issue of Gourmet, it is wonderfully simple and delicious. I have made it for dinner parties with roaring success. We teach this recipe to the kids in our cooking camps, who gleefully bring the cake home to the adulation of their families.

It’s a cross between cake-cobbler-pie-clafoutis; a little gooey, fruit-juicy, and yet cake-crumby, the pudding cake name dubbed by Gourmet is probably its best moniker.

Let me stress its wonderful simplicity. Scan the recipe ingredients: other than the fruits, you’ve got Bakery 101 stuff: flour, sugar, butter, vanilla….one egg! Prep time is an easy 15 minutes. The rhubarb-strawberry pudding cake then bakes for about 30 minutes. So, in under an hour, you’ve got a fresh springtime dessert.

Lovers of rhubarb will be elated. Deniers of rhubarb will be pleasantly surprised. Or not know.

Typically baked in an 8″x8″ square pan, (and later cut into square sized pieces) I chose this time to make it in a 9″ springform pan. I wanted a round shape, with batter and fruit expanded over a slightly larger area, making it not as tall and cakey, but more pie-like. Both ways work well.

You can serve your pudding cake garnished with creme fraiche, or lightly sweetened whipped cream. But it is soooooo good just by itself, enjoyed with a nice cup of coffee.

Rhubarb-Strawberry Pudding Cake adapted from Gourmet, April 2007
¼ cup water
1 ½ teaspoons cornstarch
1/3 and ½ cups sugar
3 cups chopped fruit—I prefer 2 cups chopped rhubarb, 1 cup strawberries, -
any variation you choose
1 cup all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 large egg
½ cup milk
1 stick butter—melted and slightly cooled
1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 400 degrees and put oven rack in the middle position. Butter an 8”x8” ceramic or glass baking pan. Stir together the water, cornstarch, and 1/3 cup sugar in a saucepan and heat. Stir in the rhubarb, if you are using it—but not the strawberries. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for about three minutes. Remove from heat and add the strawberries.

Whisk together the dry ingredients: flour, baking powder, salt, and the remaining ½ cup sugar. In a separate bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients: egg, milk, butter, vanilla.

Now add the dry ingredients to the wet, and stir in until well combined. Do not overbeat.

Coat the bottom of the baking pan with ½ of the fruit mixture. Spread the batter over that, then dollop the remaining fruit mixture on the top. Bake for 25-30 minutes. Test for doneness with a toothpick—if it comes out clean, it’s done!

Allow to cool on a rack for at least 5 minutes before serving. This can be served warm or served later at room temperature. Wrap and refrigerate leftovers, if there are any.

Makes 8-10 servings.

When it comes to choosing a dessert, one that spotlights lemon rarely makes the top of my list—not when there are sexy indulgences with bittersweet chocolate, ripe berries, or stone fruits vying for my attention. It’s not that I don’t care for lemon; I do! I love it; I value it ; I mean, think how bleak cooking world would be without this bright citrus!

But I’m easily seduced by the sounds of a dish, the lure of its place, whether it features damson plums grown at a neighboring farm or cacao beans gathered in an exotic rainforest. The lowly workhorse lemon seems, well, lowly. Unfairly or not, I’ve tended to regard it as a fine supporting player, not the star.

I have encountered, however, this exception: Lemon Tirami Su

A number of years ago, while searching for something a little uncommon to complete the menu for a client’s springtime Sunday brunch, one of my bakers, Michele, found this recipe in Jane Freiman’s Dinner Party. Always a fan of the traditional cocoa-espresso-based version, I urged her to give this one a try. For a recipe whose ingredients scarcely stretched beyond Lemons-Sugar-Eggs-Cream, the results were astonishing.

Here’s the line up:
Soak lemon-infused simple syrup into
spongey ladyfingers, follow with
a slather of intense lemon curd, top with
a pillow of barely sweetened mascarpone.
And repeat.

Oh, my. It’s this happy marriage of acid and dairy:Twang-Twang in the midst of dulcet cream that makes this a sublime dessert. Tirami-Su, lyrical Italian for lift-me-up…or let me just plunge into that dreamy lemon pillow.

I’ve got the simplest way listed first, by steps. But if you have the time, feel the least bit ambitious, I’ve included recipes for making your own mascarpone and ladyfingers. Both are not hard at all to do.

Homemade mascarpone requires only heavy cream, lemon juice, cheesecloth, and time.
I recommend trying this. The lemon juice acts as the thickening/separating agent for the cream, but doesn’t sour it. It remains true to what mascarpone is all about—a concentrated sweet cream. The lemon barely scents it, making it all the more perfect for this dessert.

Lemon Tiramisu, simplest way
adapted from Dinner Party, Jane Freiman Harper&Row 1991

Step 1
Lemon Simple Syrup
1 cup water
¼ cup Sugar
Zest of 1 Lemon
4 Tablespoons Rum

Dissolve sugar into simmering water in a non-reactive saucepan. Simmer for 5 minutes, then add lemon zest and rum. Simmer for 5 more minutes, then cool. Strain the zest from the syrup.
Note: the rum creates a complex, almost bitter bottom note to the syrup but if you prefer to not use alcohol, simply omit.

Step 2
Lemon Curd
4 Lemons
2 teaspoons Cornstarch
¾ cup Sugar
4 Eggs
4 Tablespoons softened Butter
pinch Salt

Zest two of the lemons. In a heavy, non-reactive saucepan, mix the zest with sugar and cornstarch.
Juice the lemons: you’ll need about ¾ cup. Pour half of the lemon juice into the saucepan and stir into the sugar. Gently heat while stirring constantly, about 3 minutes, until the sugar dissolves.
Beat the eggs with salt and remaining lemon juice. Whisk into the saucepan and continue stirring. After a few minutes, the mixture will begin to bubble and thicken, becoming pudding-like. Whisk in the softened butter and cook for another minute. Transfer to a heatproof bowl and cool.

Step 3
Filling
3 Eggs, separated
½ cup sugar
1 lb. mascarpone (or 1 recipe of homemade mascarpone–see below)

Beat the eggwhites until soft, stiff peaks form. Whip the mascarpone with the egg yolks and sugar until smooth and well incorporated. Fold in the beaten egg whites.

Step 4
The Assembly
Start with the ladyfingers: You’ll need about 2 Dozen. Dip them one-by-one into the lemon syrup and line the bottom of your baking dish.
Spread a layer of lemon curd over the ladyfinger layer and top with half of the mascarpone mixture.
Repeat this process; cover, and refrigerate overnight.
Before serving, garnish with a little lightly sweetened whipped cream and slices of lemon.

Feeling A Little Ambitious ?

Making your own mascarpone is cost-effective and fun!

Homemade Mascarpone
3 cups Heavy Cream
3 Tablespoon Fresh Lemon Juice

cheesecloth, strainer

Pour cream into a mixing bowl and allow it to stand at room temperature for 30 minutes.
Whisk in the lemon juice, and stir well for about 5 minutes; the cream will begin to thicken and become sour cream-like.
Line a strainer with a piece of doubled cheesecloth and place the strainer over a bowl. Scoop the thickening cream into the cheesecloth. Allow this to stand in a cool place for 5 hours–or overnight in the refrigerator. The whey will separate and collect in the bowl, leaving behind a luxurious, dense mascarpone.

Don’t worry about making “perfect finger” shapes. It all gets lost in the layers. Once, when we had to make this dessert for 250 guests, Michele made “Lady Slabs”—entire shallow baking dishes of thin sponge that we carved into pieces for tiramisu.

Homemade Lady Fingers
4 Eggs, separated
½ cup sugar
1 cup flour
½ teaspoon baking powder.

parchment
pastry bag

Beat egg white until soft, stiff peaks form, set aside. Beat egg yolks and sugar together until thick. Beat in flour and baking powder. Fold in egg whites. Scoop into pastry bag and pipe onto baking sheetpan that has been lined with parchment.
Bake in preheated 375 degree oven for 7-8 minutes. Cool and remove. Makes about 2 dozen.

When I was helping Muna design the ambitious menu for the cooking class last month, we discussed whether or not to include a dessert.

“We really don’t focus on sweets the same way as Americans do. Not as a part of dinner,” Muna said. “Sometimes we have a nice piece of fruit.”

“Let’s not worry about a dessert,” I said.

“Of course, Baklava is easy to make,” she said.

I nodded. “Sooooo sweet, though.”

We fell quiet for a moment; sometimes you have to get quiet when summoning the kitchen muse for inspiration; then Muna’s eyes lit up with an “A-Ha!”

“My friend has this recipe for date-walnut bars. It’s really good. And healthy. You can’t believe how many nutrients are in dates.”

“Walnuts, too. I like that.”

The morning of the class I got her email with the recipe and it seemed simple: A short list of ingredients. No butter or oil, small amount of flour and sugar, and loaded with our nutritious headliners. No need to drag the big Kitchen Aid out of the closet either—this could be mixed up—dare I say—by Hand!

Still, my first attempt at making the recipe would be at the class—no matter, we’d all be learning together.

The batter was gooey, dense with nuts and dates, and took little time to make. The most effort went into chopping the fruit. I was concerned that the batter was too dense, but it baked up moist and chewy in less than thirty minutes. I liked that it could be easily cut into any size or shape.

Sure, these bars are calorie-rich–that’s the nature of dessert– but they’re so high in potassium, fiber, vitamin B6, niacin, countless amino acids, that a small piece is well worth it. While gobbling them up at class, everybody called them “Muna’s Brownies.” My little surprise–a discovery that enhanced them just a tetch more— came a few days later.

The following week, we made “Muna’s Brownies” for a First Harvest Café luncheon at the food bank.
(The recipe expanded ten-fold flawlessly.)
I wanted to garnish the bars, give them a little pizazz on the plate. We had heavy whipping cream on hand, but that alone didn’t seem right. What would be good? I wandered around the culinary arts center kitchen, feeling blank, hoping to access a bit of inspiration…

when I had my A-Ha! flavor the cream with cardamom—a heady spice that Muna espouses in much of her cooking.

I rummaged through our copious spice cabinet, which housed Everything But. Instead, I found a small jar of Garam Masala seasoning—that Indian compound of the big C’s in Spiceworld: coriander, cinnamon, clove, cumin, cardamom…along with black pepper.

I’d never whipped cream with all those spices–certainly not black pepper–but sometimes unlikely ingredients work. Following my kitchen-muse-nudge, I decided to go for it.
Mmmmmmmm.
The lightly sweetened cream flecked with those fragrant spices and a little black pepper bite was the right complement to the bars—and an unexpected treat. It has opened a door to some new possibilities–already I’m thinking about some fresh takes on cream cheese icing for carrot cake!

“Muna’s Brownies” with a surprise spiced whipped cream

Date and Walnut Bars
2 eggs
½ cup sugar
½ tsp. vanilla
½ cup flour
½ tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. salt
1 cup chopped walnuts
2 cups chopped dates

Beat eggs until foamy.
Beat in sugar and vanilla.
Sift flour, baking powder, and salt together and stir into egg-sugar mixture.
Fold in walnuts and dates.
Spread mixture into lightly oiled 8″x8″baking pan. Bake for 25-30 minutes at 325 degrees.
Cut into squares while warm, but allow to cool before serving.

Spiced Whipped Cream
1/2 cup Heavy Whipping Cream
1 heaping Tablespoon Confectioners Sugar
1/4 t. Garam Masala spice blend -or-
1/4 teaspoon Cardamon and a pinch Black Pepper

Place all ingredients into a small, chilled bowl and whisk (again–easily by hand!) until thick peaks form. Scoop into a pastry bag outfitted with a star tip and pipe on top of each petite bar. Garnish with a sliver of date.

Many years ago, when my friend Wendy and I were single moms renavigating a rocky world of dating and relationships, we dreaded Valentine’s Day. It was especially hard on Wendy, who then worked for a major department store.

For her, the first two weeks of February meant a daily assault of material icons that represented nothing more than unfulfilled romantic expectations.
For me, it meant weaving my way through that commercial Cupid’s maze to reach her in her office and then find our way out, psyches unscathed, for say, drinks and dinner.

We cringed at those manikins dressed in lacy pink teddies. We slunk past glittery promises of rings and bracelets displayed on jewelry counters and dodged fragrance purveyors’ blasts of Beautiful and Eternity.

I called it the holiday that made women unhappy and men wrong.
“It’s a set up.” I said.

Wendy agreed. “I don’t even know what I want,” she said. “I just know I’ve never gotten it.”

Mercifully, wisdom can come with age. I ‘ve long abandoned those consumer-driven notions of romance and know the answer to be simple: Chocolate.

For who, WHO wouldn’t feel happy and right and loved when presented with a sublime mound of chocolate mousse!

Here’s a basic recipe that I’ve had forever, and updated slightly: Back in the early ‘70’s, we didn’t know about—or have access to—the super bittersweet chocolate; M.F.K. Fisher’s recipe called for semi-sweet.

Yes, there’s some careful chocolate melting and the call for Egg Magic: studious separating, patient beating, deft folding. Still, it can all be accomplished in thirty minutes. In individual glasses, the mousse chills quickly.

One beauty of the recipe is that if you want other flavor nuances–orange, raspberry, or hazelnut, for instance, it’s no problem to lace them in.

Another is, it makes a lot. Six-to-eight servings. Much better to share the love.

Your Basic Wonderful Chocolate Mousse adapted from The Cooking of Provincial France, by M.F.K.Fisher with editors of Time-Life Books, 1969

6 oz. bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
8 T. sweet butter, cut into small pieces
3 T. espresso, or strong coffee
1 T. vanilla
2 T. cognac, or brandy
4 farm fresh eggs, separated
¼ cup sugar
½ cup heavy cream, lightly sweetened and whipped

In a heavy 1 qt. saucepan under low heat, melt the chocolate and coffee together.
Whisk in the vanilla and brandy. Then, stir in the butter, one chunk at a time, until it becomes smooth and shiny. Remove from heat.

Using an electric mixer with a balloon whisk, beat the egg yolks and sugar together until the yolks become really pale yellow and thickened, almost triple in volume. This will take several (at least 5) minutes. The yolks will cling to the whisk.
Check your chocolate mixture; it should be warm—but not hot.
Beat it into the thickened egg yolks; the mixture will seem like chocolate mayonnaise.
Pour this into another large mixing bowl.
Clean and dry your mixer bowl and whisk. Beat the egg whites until stiff and glossy. Fold about ¼ of the whites into the chocolate mixture to lighten it, then fold in the remaining whites.

Spoon into 6-8 pretty martini glasses (or whatever individual serving pieces you like) and chill for at least 3 hours.
Top with a dollop of whipped cream, garnish with chocolate shavings.