David Lebovitz, page 7
⅔ cup (160ml) sour cream or crème fraîche
1 cup (100g) walnuts or pecans, toasted and finely chopped
¾ cup (120g) bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chips
glaze
2 cups (225g) powdered sugar, sifted
6 to 8 tablespoons (90ml to 125ml) kirsch or light rum
To make the fruitcakes, in a small saucepan, bring the dried cherries and the ⅓ cup (80ml) kirsch to a boil. Remove from the heat, cover, and set aside to macerate for about 1 hour.
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Butter the bottom and sides of two 8½-inch by 4½-inch (22cm by 11cm) loaf pans, dust them with flour, and tap out any excess. Line the bottoms with rectangles of parchment paper.
Into a small bowl, sift together the flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or by hand), beat together the butter and granulated sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, 3 to 5 minutes.
In a small bowl, whisk together the eggs, egg yolk, and vanilla, then beat this mixture into the butter mixture on low speed. Stir in half of the flour mixture, followed by the sour cream, then the remaining flour mixture. Gently stir in the nuts, chocolate chips, and the macerated cherries along with any unabsorbed liquid.
Divide the batter between the prepared pans, smooth the tops, and bake until a toothpick inserted into the center of one comes out almost clean, about 45 minutes. (Some chocolate will likely cling to the toothpick.) Let cool for 15 minutes.
Poke each cake about 50 times with a toothpick then slowly drizzle each cake with 3 tablespoons of the remaining kirsch. Let cool 30 minutes, then run a knife around the sides of the cakes to help loosen them from the pans. Invert the cakes onto a wire cooling rack, peel off the parchment paper, turn them right side up, and let cool completely.
To make the glaze, in a medium bowl, whisk together the powdered sugar and 6 tablespoons (90ml) of the kirsch. If it’s too thick to spread (it should have the consistency of melted ice cream), whisk in 1 to 2 tablespoons more kirsch. Spoon the glaze over the tops of the cakes, letting it run freely down the sides.
Let the glaze set until firm.
Variations: Substitute an equal amount of any type of dried fruit, such as cranberries, raisins, or diced prunes, for the dried cherries. Or, 1½ cups (750g) drained Italian candied Amarena cherries make a flavorful substitute, too; because they’re packed in syrup, they don’t require soaking in alcohol. Just drain them well before chopping and using.
Storage: You can freeze the loaves after they cool, prior to dousing them with alcohol and applying the glaze. The cakes will keep for up to 5 days, well wrapped, at room temperature. It’s preferable to glaze them the day of serving.
Tip: If you’re serving the fruitcake to those avoiding alcohol, you can soften the dried cherries in cranberry or cherry juice. Omit drizzling the cakes with liqueur and use water or orange juice to make the glaze.
maple-walnut pear cake
Makes one 9-inch (23cm) cake; 10 to 12 servings
An Italian acquaintance once pleaded with me, “Please—tell your American compatriots not to bring us any more maple syrup!” At first, I didn’t understand. I mean, who doesn’t love maple syrup, and what’s better than an abundance of it?
But then I remembered that while Americans drown whatever we can with the sublime syrup, Italians are famous for their thirty-second breakfast, a quick espresso downed while standing at the bar of their local caffè, not devouring a stack of pancakes. But Italians also occasionally sneak in a bit of cake first thing in the day, in the form of ciambella, a simple butter cake in the shape of a ring. Like my Italian counterparts, I’ll sometimes sneak in a slice of cake for breakfast, too, including this one with a topping of pears caramelized in maple syrup. Oh…and since I’m not in Italy, any gifts of maple syrup are encouraged, and this cake is exactly where I’ll use it.
topping
⅓ cup (80ml) maple syrup
¼ cup (45g) packed dark or light brown sugar
½ cup (50g) walnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped
3 ripe Bosc or other firm pears (about 1¼ pounds/570g), peeled, quartered, cored, and cut lengthwise into ¼-inch (6mm) slices
cake
1½ cups (210g) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder, preferably aluminum-free
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons (4 ounces/115g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
½ cup (100g) granulated sugar
¼ cup (45g) packed light brown sugar
½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs, at room temperature
½ cup (125ml) whole milk, at room temperature
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C).
To make the topping, combine the maple syrup and ¼ cup (45g) brown sugar in a 9-inch (23cm) round cake pan (not a springform pan) or cast-iron skillet. Set the pan directly on the stovetop over low heat until the mixture begins to bubble. Simmer gently for 1 minute, stirring frequently. Remove the pan from the heat.
(If using an electric or induction stove that a cake pan won’t work on, you can make the topping in a saucepan and scrape it into the cake pan.)
Sprinkle the walnuts evenly over the maple mixture in the cake pan and lightly press them in. Arrange the pear slices over the walnuts in an overlapping pinwheel pattern. Set aside.
To make the cake, in a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt.
In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or by hand), beat together the butter, granulated sugar, and ¼ cup (45g) light brown sugar on medium speed until the mixture is light and fluffy, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the vanilla and eggs, one at a time, beating until completely incorporated. Gradually mix in half of the flour mixture. Stir in the milk, followed by the rest of the flour mixture, and mix just until combined.
Scrape the batter onto the pears in the cake pan and smooth it into an even layer, being careful not to disturb the arrangement of the pears. Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean, about 50 minutes. Let cool for about 15 minutes.
Run a knife around the sides of the cake to help loosen it from the pan. Invert a serving plate over the pan. Wearing oven mitts, grasp both the pan and the plate and turn them over together. Carefully lift off the pan. Any walnuts that are stuck to the pan can be loosened with a fork and reunited with the cake.
Serving: Serve the cake warm with whipped cream (this page) or your favorite flavor of ice cream.
Storage: The cake will keep for up to 2 days at room temperature, but since it’s best served warm, you can rewarm the cake, wrapped in aluminum foil, in a low oven, or reheat slices in a microwave oven.
Tip: Here’s a great do-ahead trick: Make the cake, invert it onto a serving platter, and leave the inverted pan over it, which will keep the cake warm for an hour or so until you’re ready to serve.
date-nut torte
Makes one 8-inch (20cm) square cake; 8 to 10 servings
My mother was rather atypical, as far as suburban mothers go. She was an artist, and her classmates in college were Andy Warhol and Barbara Feldon, who played Agent 99 on Get Smart, a television comedy by Mel Brooks that was wildly popular when I was growing up in the 1960s. My mother did everything from paint landscapes to make jewelry, but she preferred to focus on textiles. I remember her spinning wool in our driveway in the heat of summer wearing culottes and a brassiere, her Louis Vuitton handbag next to her on the ground, and her vintage Mercedes in the garage. She was fond of Emilio Pucci dresses, and her hair rivaled Valley of the Dolls author Jacqueline Susann’s in height and hairspray. People often mistook her for Mary Tyler Moore.
Her father emigrated from Syria, and we’re not sure where my grandmother was from. I thought she came from Sweden, although my aunt (who sold her house in Los Angeles to one of the wives in The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills) thinks she might have been Scottish. Or Dutch. My mother is no longer with us, so I can’t ask her, but I guess I could reach out to her brother, who makes harps and lyres in Jerusalem. Needless to say, I grew up in quite an interesting family!
Back when I was a kid, I ate pistachio nuts with my grandfather (who also gave me sips of his whiskey), and one of my favorite dinners of my mother’s was chicken and rice with stewed apricots, a dish probably inspired by my grandfather’s homeland. My mother also made this simple, and very tasty, snack cake studded with chopped dates that, curiously, has no butter but is nonetheless moist and delicious. It benefits from a generous dusting of powdered sugar, which can be a little messy, like my family history. But part of the fun of Middle Eastern desserts is licking your sugary fingers when the last bite is history.
2 cups (12 ounces/340g) pitted dates, cut into bite-size pieces
1 cup (100g) walnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped
1 cup (140g) all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder, preferably aluminum-free
¼ teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon anise seed
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup (200g) granulated sugar
¼ cup (60ml) vegetable oil
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Powdered sugar for dusting the cake
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Butter the bottom and sides of an 8-inch (20cm) square cake pan, dust it with flour, and tap out any excess. Cut a length of parchment paper so it’ll fit across the bottom of the pan and up and over two sides, which will act as handles and help lift the cake out of the pan.
In a medium bowl, use your fingers to toss together the dates, walnuts, and 1 tablespoon of the flour, breaking up the sticky date pieces.
In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining flour, the baking powder, and salt. Use a mortar and pestle to crush the anise seeds or seal them in a sturdy plastic bag and crush them with a rolling pin. Add the crushed seeds to the flour mixture and stir to combine.
In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, granulated sugar, oil, and vanilla. Stir in the flour mixture, then the date-nut mixture just until combined.
Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and bake until the top is light golden brown and the cake feels just barely firm in the center, about 30 minutes.
Heavily dust the warm or room-temperature cake with powdered sugar. Cut into squares while still in the cake pan.
Variations: In the original version, my mother used orange juice in place of the oil, so feel free to use that. I’ll sometimes use raw granulated cane sugar (sold under the brand Florida Crystals in the United States) in this cake instead of white sugar.
Storage: The cake will keep for up to 5 days, well wrapped, at room temperature and improves with age, getting much better a day or two after it’s made.
persimmon cake
with cream cheese icing
Makes one 10-inch (25cm) Bundt cake; 12 to 16 servings
Persimmons are so beautiful when you see them at the market. With their deep-orange color and smooth skin, one might be tempted to bite into one. But don’t. Many varieties, such as Hachiya, are harshly tannic and need to be squishy-soft before you can eat them. Some people aren’t sure what to do with persimmons, but this autumn-spiced cake is the perfect place for them.
If you buy persimmons that are rock hard, leave them at room temperature until they feel like water balloons ready to burst. When ready, pluck off the stem, slice each persimmon in half, then scoop out the jellylike pulp and purée it in a blender or food processor.
cake
¾ cup (120g) dried currants
¼ cup (60ml) bourbon, Cognac, or brandy
2 cups (280g) all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
¾ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1⅔ cups (355g) granulated sugar
12 tablespoons (6 ounces/170g) unsalted butter, melted
1½ cups (375ml) persimmon purée (about 3 Hachiya persimmons)
3 large eggs, at room temperature
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1½ cups (150g) walnuts or pecans, toasted and finely chopped
icing
4 ounces (115g) cream cheese, at room temperature
1 tablespoon salted butter, at room temperature
½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
⅔ cup (90g) powdered sugar, sifted
4 or 5 teaspoons water
Chopped toasted walnuts and cinnamon for garnish (optional)
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Coat a 10-cup (2.5L) Bundt cake (see Tip) or tube pan with softened butter or baking spray (one that contains oil and flour).
To make the cake, in a small saucepan over medium heat, bring the currants and bourbon to a boil. Remove from the heat, cover, and let cool.
Into a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, salt, and nutmeg. Stir in the granulated sugar. In a medium bowl, mix together the 12 tablespoons (170g) melted butter, persimmon purée, eggs, and 2 teaspoons vanilla.
Make a well in the center of the flour mixture, add the persimmon mixture, and gently stir. Fold in the currants, along with any unabsorbed liquid, and the nuts. Mix just until everything is moistened. Don’t overmix.
Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and bake until a toothpick inserted into the cake comes out clean, about 1 hour. Let cool completely. Once cool, invert the cake onto a serving plate.
To make the icing, in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or by hand), beat together the cream cheese and 1 tablespoon butter on high speed until smooth. Beat in the ½ teaspoon vanilla and the lemon juice, then gradually add the powdered sugar, beating on high speed until smooth. Add the 4 teaspoons water; the icing should be pourable. If necessary, add 1 more teaspoon water.
Spoon the icing around the top of the cake, then tap the plate on a folded kitchen towel on the countertop to encourage the icing to run down the sides of the cake. Top with walnuts and a sprinkle of cinnamon, if desired.
Variation: If you don’t have persimmons, or if they’re not in season, you can substitute unsweetened applesauce or banana purée for the persimmon purée.
Storage: This cake will keep for up to 4 days at room temperature.
Tip: Avoid using a Bundt pan with an intricate pattern as it’ll make the cake difficult to release.
guinness-gingerbread cupcakes
Makes 12 cupcakes
I made a fool of myself back in the ’90s when I first met Claudia Fleming, the legendary pastry chef in New York City. But I couldn’t help it—I flipped out when I tasted her desserts at Gramercy Tavern. They managed to perfectly balance familiar, everyday ingredients from the nearby Union Square Greenmarket with sophisticated presentations. Every time I ran into her, I’d gush about her desserts as she slowly backed away from me—clearly an unabashed and unbalanced fan.
Claudia eventually left the city to run a restaurant and inn in the countryside. I’m pretty sure her motivation was not to hide from me (though I can’t be sure), and I was pleased to run into her years later when we were both judges on a television cooking show. Luckily time has softened me, and I managed to temper my gushing, but I’m still a big fan (albeit one who doesn’t require a restraining order) of hers, and of her desserts.
I have always been intrigued by her combination of gingerbread and malty stout, which inspired me to create cupcakes using the same blend of flavors. I add a bright-tasting lime frosting that complements the spicy cake. Just be aware that if you make these, you’ll probably find yourself in the company of some ardent fans, too.
cupcakes
½ cup (125ml) stout beer, such as Guinness
½ cup (125ml) mild-flavored molasses
½ cup (125ml) vegetable oil
¼ teaspoon baking soda
¾ cup (135g) packed light brown sugar
1⅓ cups (185g) all-purpose flour
1¼ teaspoons baking powder, preferably aluminum-free
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
½ teaspoon salt
2 large eggs, at room temperature
½ cup (50g) finely minced Candied ginger (this page)
frosting
4 tablespoons (2 ounces/55g) unsalted or salted butter, at room temperature
1½ cups (180g) powdered sugar, sifted
2½ tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice, or more to taste
1 tablespoon whole milk
Strips of Soft-candied citrus peel (this page) or Candied ginger (this page) for garnish
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with cupcake liners.
To make the cupcakes, in a very large saucepan over medium-high heat, bring the stout, molasses, and oil to a boil. Remove from the heat and whisk in the baking soda until dissolved. (The mixture will foam up, then settle down.) Stir in the brown sugar, then let cool until tepid.
Into a small bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, and salt.
Whisk the eggs into the stout mixture, then whisk in the flour mixture just until incorporated. Don’t overmix. Gently stir in the minced candied ginger.
Divide the batter among the cupcake liners and bake until the cupcakes feel just set in the center, 22 to 24 minutes. Let cool completely.
