David Lebovitz, page 33
I use flaky sea salt, which provides dramatic bits of salty sparks when you crunch into the buttery caramelized almonds. This recipe is from Cindy Pawlcyn, chef-owner of Mustards Grill in the Napa Valley, and every time I make it, the name still cracks me up. I think you’ll enjoying cracking up with it, too.
2 tablespoons unsalted or salted butter, cubed
1 cup (125g) blanched almonds (see Tips), untoasted
½ cup (100g) sugar
¼ teaspoon flaky sea salt (such as fleur de sel or Maldon) or kosher salt
Lightly oil a baking sheet or line it with a silicone baking mat.
In a medium saucepan or skillet, heat the butter over medium heat until it just starts to melt. Add the almonds and sugar. Cook over medium heat, stirring as gently as possible, using a silicone spatula to scrape under the almonds and lift them up to coat them with the sugar and butter. The mixture may be somewhat grainy at first, but will smooth out as it cooks. Continue to cook, folding gently, as the liquid in the pan turns from beige to a light brown color and you hear the almonds start to crackle.
Keep stirring and folding until the liquid is deep amber in color (similar to a cup of coffee with a touch of cream).
Remove from the heat, gently stir in the salt, then scrape the mixture out onto the prepared baking sheet, moving the pan as you pour so the caramel-coated almonds are in a single layer. Avoid vigorously spreading out the almonds with the spatula, which can make the caramel grainy, but you can gently push apart any large piles of almonds so they’re better incorporated with the layer of almonds on the baking sheet. If any liquid caramel starts spreading out of the sides of the caramelized almonds, use the spatula to push it back over the almonds. Let cool completely.
Serving: Break into bite-size pieces.
Storage: The candy pieces will keep in an airtight container for up to 1 week.
Tip: It’s important to use blanched almonds for this recipe. Almond skins make it difficult for the syrup to permeate the nuts and your ding won’t be as crunchy. If you can’t find blanched almonds (or want to save some money), you can remove the skins from unblanched almonds by bringing 2 cups (500ml) of water to a boil in a small saucepan. Turn off the heat and add the unskinned almonds. Let stand for 1 minute, then drain the almonds in a fine-mesh strainer and run cold water over them to cool them down and loosen the skins. Use your fingers to squeeze each nut; the skins will slide right off. Dry the almonds on a small baking sheet in a 350°F (175°C) oven for 8 to 10 minutes, until they no longer feel damp.
spiced candied pecans
Makes 4 cups (400g)
If there’s an easier candy out there, I haven’t found it. When I worked as a pastry chef, I think I made a batch of these every day. And since they’re so easy, why not? Actually, I pretty much had to after I discovered the other cooks in the kitchen were constantly dipping into the container when I wasn’t looking.
Great for nibbling on their own, these nuts are also good used in place of the toasted nuts in Chocolate chip cookies (this page) and Robert’s ultimate brownies (this page), or in place of the almonds in Pistachio, almond, and dried cherry bark (this page). They can be chopped and folded into just-churned ice cream or sprinkled on top of scoops of ice cream that are sauced with warm Salted butter caramel sauce (this page).
1 large egg white, at room temperature
½ cup (90g) packed light brown sugar
2 tablespoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon cayenne or red chile powder (optional)
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
4 cups (400g) pecan halves
Preheat the oven to 300°F (150°C). Spray a baking sheet with nonstick cooking spray or oil it lightly.
In a large bowl, whisk the egg white until frothy, about 10 seconds. Stir in the brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, cayenne (if using; or to taste, if you want them a bit less spicy), salt, vanilla, and pecans until the nuts are well coated.
Distribute the nuts in an even layer on the prepared baking sheet and bake until the pecans are well toasted and the glaze is dry, about 30 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes. Let cool completely, separating the pecans as they cool.
Variation: You can substitute walnut halves for the pecans.
Storage: The nuts will keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 weeks.
quince paste
Makes sixty 1-inch (3cm) squares
With all the interest in Spanish cuisine, it’s no surprise that membrillo—Spanish quince paste—has become a global hit. Anyone who has tasted it paired with Manchego cheese and a glass of sherry understands why it’s become so popular the world over. Though you don’t need Spanish cheese to enjoy it. It’s equally good with sharp Cheddar, pecorino, or aged Gouda and a glass of red, white, or orange wine.
But that popularity doesn’t come easy: it takes at least 30 minutes of almost-constant stirring to make quince paste. I always wear an oven mitt and long-sleeve shirt, while stirring with a wooden spatula, because the hot mixture occasionally pops and sputters as it thickens.
4 medium quinces (1½ pounds/675g)
½ lemon, preferably organic or unsprayed
4 cups (1L) water
3 cups (600g) sugar
Wash and rub the quinces to remove any fuzz and leaves and cut them into quarters.
In a medium saucepan, combine the quince pieces, lemon half, and water and cook over medium heat, covered, until the quince is tender, about 1 hour. Remove from the heat and discard the lemon half.
With a melon baller or spoon, scoop out the quince seeds and discard them. Pass the quince pieces and the cooking liquid through a food mill or press them through a coarse-mesh strainer. You should have 3 to 4 cups of purée.
Put the quince purée and sugar in a large, heavy saucepan or wide skillet and cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture forms a thick, shiny, solid mass, 30 to 40 minutes. (Be careful as you stir because the hot mixture will sputter and pop. Wear a long-sleeved shirt and perhaps an oven mitt.)
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or oil it very lightly. Spread the quince paste into a layer ½ inch (1.5cm) thick on the prepared baking sheet and let cool slightly. Once cooled enough to touch, wet your hand and smooth the surface of paste, then let cool completely.
Using a sharp knife, cut the paste into 1-inch (3cm) squares. If the paste is sticky, dip the knife in hot water and wipe it dry between each cut.
Serving: Serve the quince paste by itself or with slices of a dry, sharp cheese.
Storage: Stored in a container in a cool, dry place, quince paste will keep for at least 3 months. Do not store it in a very tightly sealed container or it will become soggy. Some layer a bay leaf between squares of the quince paste, which lends its unique flavor to the quince paste.
pistachio, almond, and dried cherry bark
Makes about 1¼ pounds (565g)
It was a happy day when an enterprising Midwesterner decided that the surplus of sour cherries could be dried instead of left neglected on the trees. And thus, one of my favorite baking ingredients was born: dried sour cherries.
But this recipe is eminently adaptable, and you can use any kind of dried fruit or toasted nuts that suit you. In my kitchen, diced apricot pieces and cranberries, walnuts and toasted pecans, and roasted cocoa nibs have all found their way into various batches of this bark. I even got really experimental once and crumbled candied bacon into a batch. That one met with a few raised eyebrows but was gobbled up nonetheless.
1¼ pounds (565g) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
½ cup (65g) almonds, toasted
¼ cup (35g) shelled pistachios, unsalted or salted (use unsalted if adding the flaky sea salt)
¼ cup (30g) dried sour (or sweet) cherries
Flaky sea salt, such as fleur de sel or Maldon (optional)
Stretch taut a sheet of plastic wrap across a baking sheet.
Put the chocolate in a large heatproof bowl. Set the bowl over a saucepan of barely simmering water and stir frequently until the chocolate is almost melted.
Remove the bowl from the heat, wipe the bottom dry with a kitchen towel, then stir the chocolate until completely melted and smooth. Mix in the almonds, pistachios, and dried cherries.
Scrape the mixture onto the prepared baking sheet and use a spatula to spread it to the desired thickness. Flick bits of salt, if using, across the top. Refrigerate the baking sheet until the chocolate sets.
Variation: To make almond and candied bacon bark, chop the almonds and replace the pistachios and dried cherries with candied bacon. To make candied bacon, lay 5 strips of bacon on a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil (shiny side down) or parchment paper. Sprinkle each strip with about 2 teaspoons light brown sugar. Bake in a 400°F (200°C) oven for 12 to 15 minutes, flipping the strips over midway through baking and dragging them through any melted sugar that’s collected on the baking sheet. They’re done when they’re mahogany colored. Let cool on a wire cooling rack until crisp, then crumble and mix into the chocolate along with the almonds. It’s best to make the candied bacon the same day you plan to use it. Candied bacon bark should be eaten within 3 days. Store it in the refrigerator, but let it come to room temperature before serving it.
Serving: Once the bark is firm, break it into pieces.
Storage: The bark should be stored in the refrigerator until ready to serve or it may turn gray and streaky. Remove it about 30 minutes before you plan to enjoy it. It will keep for up to 2 weeks.
basics, sauces, and preserves
The recipes in this chapter are the foundations of some of the desserts in this book but also can be used as springboards for creating your own inspired combinations. To start things off, there are a few pastry doughs, including a simple galette dough (this page) that takes just a few minutes to make. I’ve probably made it more than a thousand times in my lifetime (and no, I’m not making that up), between my time baking professionally and baking at home.
When I first learned to make pie dough from my friend’s Norwegian grandmother, she told me, “If the dough doesn’t fall apart, it’s not going to be good.” Don’t worry if your dough isn’t a perfectly smooth ball or doesn’t look like a professional, or a machine, rolled it out. (Baker’s secret: On television, bakers add additional liquid to doughs to make them smoother and easier to roll out while the camera is rolling. That’s why their doughs are more photo-friendly than yours.) Any dough made from scratch, even if it’s a little lopsided or breaks into flaky shards when you cut into it, tastes infinitely better than store-bought dough that comes out of a box.
Pastry cream, sabayon, and crème anglaise often serve as the bases for desserts like soufflés and ice creams, but they are also accompaniments to cakes, pies, and tarts. A spoonful of Cider sabayon (this page) is a natural companion to a wedge of Apple-frangipane galette (this page), and who wouldn’t want a pool of cold crème anglaise (this page) with a square of dark Chocolate pavé (this page)?
In addition to two recipes for chocolate sauce and one for white chocolate sauce (this page) (yup, I’m equal opportunity when it comes to chocolate), this chapter contains a colorful variety of fruit sauces and caramel accompaniments. Caramel doesn’t always want to share the stage with anything else, so I’m offering options—from a bright, tangy orange caramel to creamy salted butter caramel.
Preserving also plays an important role in my kitchen, so I’ve included recipes I use often for candied fruits and homemade jams. These also get served inside, alongside, and on top of many of my desserts. I hope you’ll find some ways to use them creatively in your own baking as well.
And because one cannot live by dessert alone, I sometimes like a little something to drink before and after dinner. Vin d’orange (this page), a gently bitter orange–flavored fortified wine popular in the South of France, makes a wonderful aperitif that’s meant to perk up your appetite before you sit down at the table.
After dinner, a digestif is equally inviting and balances the meal. I have friends with walnut trees who provide me with green walnuts to make Nocino (this page), a spiced Italian liqueur that became very popular due to the surge of interest in Italian bitters known as amaro. Nocino is a wonderful digestif, but it’s especially good poured over Vanilla ice cream (this page) or made into smooth custards (this page). It can also be used in the Milk chocolate chip–amaro ice cream (this page), which has become one of my favorite ice creams to churn up.
tart dough
Makes one 9-inch (23cm) tart shell
This classic French dough, called pâte sucrée, is cookie-like and sturdy, and it doesn’t need to be weighted down with pie weights for prebaking. But best of all, it’s pressed into the tart pan, so there’s no need for rolling either.
6 tablespoons (3 ounces/85g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
¼ cup (50g) sugar
1 large egg yolk
1 cup (140g) all-purpose flour
⅛ teaspoon salt
In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or by hand), beat together the butter and sugar on medium-low speed just until smooth, about 1 minute, stopping the mixer midway through to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Add the egg yolk and mix for 30 seconds. Stop the mixer again and scrape down the sides of the bowl. Turn the mixer back on low speed and add the flour and salt.
Increase the speed to medium and mix until the mixture is clumping together and resembles moist gravel. Remove the bowl from the mixer and use your hands to shape and lightly knead the dough into a smooth, flat disk. (The dough can be wrapped tightly and refrigerated for up to 3 days.) Let come to room temperature before using.
Place the disk of dough in the center of a 9-inch (23cm) tart pan with a removable bottom. Use the heel of your hand to press and spread the dough across the bottom of the pan.
Use your fingers, or thumb, to go around the sides, pushing the dough up and around the sides of the pan so it’s a little over the top rim. Then use your thumb to lop off the excess dough above the rim. With the heel of your hand, even out the dough in the bottom of the pan. Reserve a small piece of dough, about the size of a jelly bean, to patch any cracks in the dough after baking. Any excess dough can be pressed into the dough covering the bottom of the tart pan.
Freeze the dough in the tart pan for 30 minutes.
To bake the tart shell, preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
Place the frozen tart shell in the oven and bake until it’s golden brown across the bottom, 18 to 20 minutes. Check the tart shell midway during baking and if it’s puffing up, poke the dough with a paring knife to release the steam and deflate it. Place the baked tart dough on a wire cooling rack.
If there are any cracks or fissures, while the tart shell is still very warm, pinch off small pieces of the reserved unbaked dough and use your fingertips to roll them into little pieces about the size of wild rice. Gently smooth them into the cracks, until the cracks are filled and sealed. If using the dough to make the Caramelized macadamia tart (this page), make sure you’re especially diligent in patching all cracks since that filling is very liquid and you want to do your best to make sure it doesn’t leak during baking.
Tip: If pressing the dough into the pan is too challenging for you (admittedly, it is a bit of an acquired skill…), you can roll the dough between two sheets of parchment paper until it’s 13 inches (33cm) round. Place the rolled-out dough on a baking sheet and chill it in the refrigerator for 30 minutes. After the dough is chilled, peel off the top sheet of parchment paper and turn the tart pan upside down in the center of the dough.
Turn the dough and the pan over simultaneously. Peel off the second layer of parchment paper, wait 10 to 15 seconds for the dough to soften a bit, then ease the dough into the pan. Lop off the excess dough overhanging the edges of the tart pan with your fingers or a rolling pin and use that dough to patch any cracks or tears in the dough. Freeze the dough until ready to bake.
A Tart-Breaker
Everybody has what’s called a “recipe deal-breaker.” Some people won’t make a recipe if it requires a thermometer; another is if a recipe calls for obscure pieces of kitchen equipment, such as twenty-four copper mini-loaf tins. Mine is anything deep-fried, so when I want a doughnut or a beignet, I’m happy to patronize a local bakery that makes them—and will take care of the cleanup afterward.
A number of people are reluctant to make tart dough, thinking it’s difficult or fussy. To some, rolling pins are deal-breakers, so my tart dough is pressed into the pan, rather than rolled out. It’s a little trickier to get it as even as you would if you were rolling it out, but once you’ve done it a few times—and seen the results—you’ll forget any trepidation you had. I give specific instructions in the Tart dough recipe for how I do it, as well as how to roll it out, if you’re more comfortable doing that.
Either way, once filled, no one will see any inconsistencies. So don’t let a fear of making dough be a tart-breaker—I know you can do it!
pie dough
Makes enough for one 9-inch (23cm) double-crust pie or two 9-inch (23cm) single-crust pies
There’s some debate about which makes the best pie crust: butter, shortening, or lard. I’m not a fan of shortening or lard because I always feel like I’m being unfaithful to butter by not baking with it. And besides, I like its taste. As long as you keep the butter cold and the ice water to a minimum, this dough bakes up plenty flaky.
