An everyday sort of thing

I wish I could say that every dish I made had a fabulous backstory. Something compelling, or educational or even enticingly tempting. Heck, I would even settle for vaguely amusing sometimes. But sadly, that is not the case.

In truth, most of the dishes that reach our table do so out of a straightforward need to stop the grumbling of our bellies. And more often than not, there is an emotional whim attached.

Such was the case with the menus we have enjoyed this week. A bitterly cold spell and some particularly heavy workloads took their toll by Tuesday, by which time we found ourselves in need of sustenance of both the body and spirit. That afternoon I called my dear Mum, not only for a bit of cheer but also for her minestrone recipe - a dish I have not had for years.

Preparing it for Sean and Benjamin brought instant comfort. All it asked of me was some idle chopping, followed by lazy stirring now and again. Just the sort of demand I could handle. The pot gently simmered on the stove, filling the kitchen with a heady steam. A mere half-hour later we were rewarded with a hearty meal, all slurped up with a spoon. I had meant to take a photo but we were far too impatient to allow for such an interruption.

On Wednesday the mood continued, though we were buoyed by the meal the night before. In anticipation of another late evening for Sean I set about making one of his all-time, desert island desserts - a crumble. Without enough produce to make the preferred apple version, I nosed my way through our pantry to assemble this apple and mixed berry hybrid. The frozen berries, a direct violation of my commitment to eating seasonally, add a bit of brightness to a dreary month with their luxuriously velvet juices coating the apples beautifully.

My finished product was what I had hoped; a buttery crust that gave way to a filling more subtle in its sweetness than other versions, with just enough spice to add some resonant warmth. An offering that was everyday but just a bit special, and altogether satisfying.

I wish I could say that this dessert was ground-breakingly interesting, but it is not. It is simply familiar, uncomplicated and good. Sometimes, that is more than enough.

Apple and mixed berry crumble
My own recipe. As laziness is an integral part of comfort cooking, the version pictured used frozen berries and their juices; resulting in a luscious sort of fruit slump on the plate. If you prefer a less juicy version, defrost and drain the berries before adding to the filling.

Ingredients
1/2 pound cold butter (2 sticks), diced, plus more at room temperature for pan
2/3 cup blanched, sliced almonds
1/3 cup unsweetened flaked coconut
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
3/4 cup rolled oats
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/2 pounds tart baking apples, preferably Granny Smith, peeled, cored and cut into medium dice
1 1/2 pounds frozen berry mix, see note above
Juice and zest of 1/2 lemon
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/8 teaspoon ground ginger

Preheat oven to 375ºF (190ºC). Lightly butter a 9"x13" baking dish and place this on a parchment-lined baking sheet.

In a large bowl, or in the bowl of a stand mixer with a paddle attachment, combine almonds, coconut, brown sugar, 1/4 teaspoon salt, oats and flours. Using a pastry cutter, or the mixer on its lowest speed, cut in 1 3/4 sticks (14 tablespoons) butter into the dry ingredients. When finished the mixture should resemble a coarse, uneven meal. Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine apples, frozen berries, lemon zest, lemon juice, sugar, cornstarch, spices and remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt. Toss gently to combine well. Pour fruit mixture into prepared baking dish and dot with the reserved butter.

Sprinkle topping evenly over dish, leaving a bit of the fruit peaking out at edges. Bake for 55-60 minutes, until the filling is bubbling and the top is golden brown. Allow to stand 5-10 minutes before serving.

Recipe Notes:
• You may want to adjust the sugar depending on your taste and the sweetness of the fruit.
• The coconut is an addition I always enjoy for textural contrast, but is not essential.
• The spice measurements are an approximation of "one good pinch" of each. Again, adjust as you see fit.

Sidenote:
• I our house this is a crumble, but I do see that some would call it a crisp. What would call it?

All apologies and a plea - updated!

I am always struck by the generosity and kindness of those of you who read this site. Even with my recent absence (which will be explained in an upcoming post), I have still been the regular recipient of a host of comments, queries and stories from many of you. I cannot tell you how much this all means to me.

It was in one of these recent messages that Lillian, an enthusiastic and engaging reader from Louisiana, took the time to mention a recipe and entry for gaufrettes she'd come across. From the book French cooking for Americans by Louis Diat, here is the entry. My thanks to her.

Gaufres

Trace French cookery through the years and you will find certain specialties such as Gaufres, appearing century after century. These thin crisp, waffle-like tidbits have been sold on the streets of French cities ever since the twelfth century. In those early days the marchands de gaufres, that is, the vendors who sold them, always set up business in the streets near the doors of cathedrals and churches on days of great religious festivals. There they made and sold their wares to the throngs of people coming from the mass, people whose devotions must surely have been interrupted by the drifting fragrance of gaufres sizzling outside. Gaufres are still sold in French cities but today you will find them more often in the parks where the youngsters congregate.

Gaufres are cooked in an iron called a gaufrier which has two flat iron plates clamped and held together by long handles. The iron plates are decorated with designs which become imprinted on the cakes and very old gaufriers have beautiful and interesting designs, many of which have some definite religious significance.

My mother baked a kind of gaufre on a baking sheet and rolled them on a small stick. When cold she filled them with a cream filling or whipped cream. They are called gaufrettes, sometimes cigarettes.

My favorites are Gaufres with Cream, sometimes called Gaufres de Bruxelles, made in an oblong iron which puts deep indentations on the cakes, much like an American waffle iron. I think an American waffle iron could be used. Bur for a real gaufrier, if you have nostalgia for one, seek out an importer of French cooking equipment to supply you.

Gaufrettes or cigarettes

In giving the proportions of ingredients for gaufrettes it is almost impossible to indicate exact measurements because the size of the egg whites and the kind of flour will affect the consistency. It is best to bake a trial one. If the finished gaufrette is so thin it breaks and cannot be handled, the mixture needs a little more flour. If on the other hand the gaufrette is thick and clumsy to roll, a little more melted butter should be added.

2 egg whites
1/2 cup sugar
vanilla extract (or seeds from bean)
3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled
1/3 cup flour

Beat egg whites until stiff. Sprinkle sugar over them a little at a time and fold into egg whites slowly and carefully. Add flour the same way. Add butter, also folding it in carefully. Butter and flour a baking sheet and put into a hot oven of 450 to 475 degrees until pan is hot. Drop batter by tablespoons on the hot pan, spreading it as thinly as possible. Bake in a hot oven of 450 to 475 degrees a few minutes until golden brown. When done, roll while still hot around a stick about the size of a thick pencil. When cold serve plain or filled with cream filling of whipped cream.

Batter for Gaufres

1 1/3 cups flour
2/3 cup sugar
4 tablespoons butter, melted
2 eggs
1 egg yolk
milk (3/4 to 1 cup)
vanilla extract (or seeds from bean)

Sift together flour and sugar. Mix together egg and egg yolk, add to flour mixture and mix until smooth. Add butter, vanilla and milk to make a thin batter. (Batter should be about the thickness or a crepe batter.) Heat both sides of gaufrier on top of stove, then butter both sides. When butter is sizzling hot pour in a tablespoon of batter, spreading it thinly. Close gaufrier and cook a few minutes on each side, or until golden brown. While still hot roll around the handle of a wooden spoon or stick of similar size. Or if preferred leave them flat.

Gaufrettes with cream

These gaufrettes are baked in a special iron, one that is square in shape, and made with deep indentations, as contrasted with the usual flat, round gaufrier. It is in fact very much like a waffle iron. The finished gaufrette is both soft and crisp, is very light and exceedingly tender and delicate. The advantage of these gaufrettes over waffles is that they are served cold and so can be made up ahead of time. They are a very choice dainty for afternoon tea when something rich is desired.

1 cup flour
6 egg yolks
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 cup cream
1/4 cup butter, melted and cooled
pinch of salt
6 egg whites

Put all ingredients except egg whites in a bowl and mix together. Beat egg whites until stiff and carefully fold into batter. Pour into a square gaufrier with deep indentations (or a waffle iron) that has been heated and buttered. Cook on both sides until brown. Remove and cool. Fill each of the small holes with sweetened whipped cream or Creme Patissiere (recipe follows). Makes 6.

Crème patissiere

Pastry creams include all the cream fillings used in making various kinds of pastry desserts. Some of these creamy mixtures such as crème patissiere are also the foundations for many other desserts or, as we call them, entremets. Since most of these creams contain eggs it is important to know how to handle eggs when adding them to hot mixtures. You can't just stir them in as you do many other ingredients because when eggs are added directly to a hot liquid they will curdle. Nor can you allow the mixture to boil after eggs are added because that, too, will cause them to curdle. (If the mixture contains a thickening such as flour or cornstarch it can be boiled for minute or two.) The following simple procedure will insure the desired smooth, delicate texture: add some of the hot liquid to the beaten eggs, stirring vigorously all the time, in order to thin them out a little and heat them up at the same time. Then turn this back into the hot mixture and stir constantly until boiling point is reached. Do not allow to boil. Remove from heat and pour immediately into a cold bowl and cool quickly. The quicker a pastry cream cools the better, and an occasional stirring will prevent a thin crust from forming on top.

3/4 cup sugar
5-6 eggs
1/3 cup flour
2 cups milk
1 piece vanilla bean (or extract)
pinch salt

Mix together sugar and egg yolks and work up with a spoon until the mixture is creamy and light colored. Add flour and mix just enough to combine it but don't work it up. Scald milk and vanilla bean. Add to egg yolk mixture, little by little, and stir until well combined. Turn mixture back into saucepan and cook, stirring vigorously, until it comes back to boiling point. Boil about 2 minutes. Remove vanilla bean (or add extract to taste). Strain and let cool, stirring occasionally, to prevent a crust from forming on top.

Please see original post below for the backstory.

Some time ago, one of my dear readers requested a recipe for gaufrettes, the delicate French waffle cookie. I divided my attention between research and the demands of a toddler, trolling my cookbooks and searching online. Sadly, I was disappointed with my findings. None of my cookbooks garnered success; on the upside I shall be using this as an excuse to buy more. After all that, the delay only came up with the following links:

Category Mistake
Sweet C
Free Cooking Recipes
Recipe Link

However, never having tried any of them, I am wary to recommend these results. And so, I'm appealing to the rest of my readers - do any of you have an absolutely fantastic, full-proof and wonderful recipe you would be so kind to share? Or would those with more expertise comment on the links I have listed? Please contact me via my profile or post your thoughts in the comments section.

I have tried this recipe from Williams-Sonoma for gloriously tempting pizzelle. While not exactly a gaufrette, I am more than happy to vouch for their deliciousness.

And to the original reader, thank you for your patience!

Baking, Sunday style

After weeks of a heat that turned once-lush lawns to straw, this past Sunday dawned misty and gray. A constant drizzle pattered its way through the leaves, and the mercifully cool air smelled of damp earth.

It was a day to spend indoors, in the comfortable routine of business about the house, getting bits and pieces in order and lazily flipping through the weekend newspapers. By far, my favourite sort of day.

As far as food went, our menu was decided by consensus - following only our inclinations without worry of schedules or agenda. Immediate and extended family members stopped by for a cup of of tea, a chat or general diversion.

Some time in the early afternoon I caught wind of collected whispers, mentioned cravings for something as a snack, a cake perhaps. Nothing decadent, just a nibble of something a bit sweet.

Banana bread; this old fashioned loaf seemed the perfect fit for a rain-soaked Sunday afternoon. Studded with moist chunks of banana, their richness undercut by the acid twang of yogurt, this was the sort of loaf that sits on the counter with a knife nearby. For the remainder of the day we snacked, coming back for another slice, another crumb, whenever temptation arose.

Yogurt banana bread
This recipe yields a meltingly moist loaf with a cake-like texture. However it may look though, do not be fooled. This bread is not the overly sweet, dessert variety. The perfect partner to coffee, it is much more subtle in its charm.

Ingredients
1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
3 large, ripe bananas, mashed
1/2 cup well-drained yogurt (see note)
4 1/2 ounces unsalted butter at room temperature, plus more for greasing the pan
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup firmly-packed brown sugar
2 eggs
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Lightly butter a standard, 9"x5"x3" loaf pan.

In a medium bowl, sift together the flours, salt, baking powder and spices.

In another bowl, mix the yogurt and banana together until well blended. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the flat beater, beat the butter and sugar on medium speed, scraping down the sides of the bowl, until light and fluffy. It should take 3 to 4 minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, with the mixer on medium speed and beating well after each addition. Add the vanilla and beat to combine.

Add half the flour mixture to the butter, beating on medium-low until blended. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, add the bananas and sour cream, beating until distributed. Add in the remaining flour, still stirring on medium-low until just combined. Transfer the batter to the prepared pan.

Bake in a preheated oven for about 1 hour and 10-15 minutes, until a cake tester inserted in the centre comes out clean the bread pulls away from the side of the pan. Cool in tin for 10 minutes, then turn out to a rack to cool completely.

Makes 1 loaf.

Notes:

• I used well-drained 1% yogurt.
• For the loaf pictured, the pan was the darker metal kind. For that reason, I reduced the oven temperature by about 15 degrees F to keep the exterior tender and golden. If this is the case with yours, you may need to adjust the cooking time accordingly.

Dear Mr. Truant Officer*

*Please see recipe added below.

Once these, the long legged days of August saunter in, I find it impossible to focus on anything other than gallivanting about. But who can blame me? With peach festivals, Rotary-sponosed rib cookoffs, world-class food fairs, you can understand my distraction.

Case in point. When you find yourself making espresso-laced versions of (almost kitch) molten lava cakes, for the simple reason that it is Tuesday night and it is a gorgeously cool evening, you know that you are lost.

Though my school days are a distant memory, my thoughts have turned towards notions of holidays and diversion, of idle pastimes and fleeting pleasures. But lest you think I have abandoned all thoughts of responsibility, I shall be taking you all along with me on a little field trip to St. Jacobs later this week. We will wander through aisles upon aisles of antiques, take a gander at local artisans and gather up armfuls of gorgeous produce, baked goods and specialty meats from the farmer's market.

My apologies for my absence, but please don't turn me in.

Espresso and chocolate fondants
My variation of these recipes.

Ingredients
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, plus more for greasing the pots
2 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
3 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
2 eggs
1 teaspoon instant espresso powder
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2/3 cup caster sugar
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C). Grease 4 x 150ml ramekins with butter (see note).

In a double boiler, or a bowl placed over a pan of just simmering water, melt the butter and chocolates together. Stir to ensure even and gentle melting of the chocolate; when just melted, remove from the heat and set aside to cool.

Meanwhile in a small bowl, whisk together the eggs, espresso, vanilla and sugar until the mixture becomes thick and slightly pale in colour. Add the cooled chocolate, whisking to blend well. Finally, stir in the flour until just combined.

Divide the batter among the prepared ramekins; bake on a baking sheet for 17-20 minutes, or until the tops are crevassed and cracked while the oozing underneath. Cool only for a moment and serve hot.

Notes:

• I use these little 150ml pots that I'm terribly fond of as the cakes will soufflé up just a bit and offer a charmingly springy top. However, you can also use a slightly larger ramekin (though I would not go larger than 250ml or 1 cup) for a denser, more deeply cracked fondant.

To enjoyable excess

I am passionate about a lot of things. Food, fashion, family and film are all consuming pleasures of mine. But there is something I'm equally fanatical about which might seem somewhat unexpected. I love words.

Language, jargon, definitions - I find all of these simply fascinating, and have for as long as I can remember. Back in school, in Linguistics and Latin classes, lectures on morphology and derivatives were red letter days on the calendar.

Yes, I know. I'm a geek.

But I cannot help myself. I adore nuanced meanings, the way that one right word can say so much more than paragraphs and paragraphs of the wrong ones. A well-chosen phrase can be a study in succinct economy or art itself.

Mellifluous is as poetic as its definition. While lush is lovely, verdant is all the more exuberant in its profusion.

Lately though, one word has been (excuse the pun) on our lips most often - surfeit. With the local trees and fields heavy with fruit, the early summer harvests of berries, currants, sweet peas and cherries are gracing our table. Truly nothing less than luxuriant abundance, we're most often seen feasting on this bounty of beautiful produce out of hand.

However, when recently bestowed with not one, not two, but three baskets of garnet-hued cherries, I felt the little jewels deserved a bed of buttery cake to fully appreciate their depth and colour. Sweet and plump, the gorgeous orbs almost melt, turning luscious and silky while staining the almond-rich batter with their juices.

One taste, and even words aren't necessary - just enjoy.

Almond butter cake with cherries

Ingredients

1 1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus extra for greasing the pan
1 1/2 cups of granulated sugar, plus extra for preparing the pan
4 large eggs
2/3 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 cup ground almonds
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups fresh cherries, pitted and split in half
1/3 cup flaked almonds
1 1/2 tablespoons Demerara sugar (optional)

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Generously butter a 10" springform pan, and set aside (see note).

In the bowl of a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, or with a hand beater, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Lower the speed and add the eggs, one at a time, beating until fully incorporated. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.

In a small bowl, combine the sour cream, vanilla extract and lemon zest.

In another bowl, sift together the almonds, flour, baking powder and salt.

Add half the flour to the butter mixture, beating until blended. Add the sour cream mixture, beating again and scraping down the sides of the bowl. Finish with the remaining flour and stir until just combined.

Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan. Sprinkle over the cut cherries, the almonds and the Demerara sugar (if using). Bake for approximately 40 minutes, or until lightly golden and a cake tester comes out clean.

Notes:

• For the photograph, I used two 11"x8"x1" removable bottom tart pans. The cakes took about 30 minutes to bake.
• Alternatively, lightly toast the almonds in a dry pan before topping the tart.
• Other fruits, plums and apricots for example, can be substituted.