Berry Nice

A few weeks ago, I was invited by two of my lovely coworkers to go berry picking on Sauvie Island, one of Portland's main attractions....and somewhere I have never been in my six glorious years of living here. Weird, right? At least that's what I'm told. I was unfortunately not able to join them due to an early shift after a late night, but one of the girls was kind enough to share some of her loot with me. This particular morning was right at the onslaught of Portland's first heatwave of the summer, and the berries reflected that marvelously- they tasted as if they had been warmed through by the sun.

Raspberries, blueberries, strawberries....oh, my my my.

I confess: I let the berries sit around in my fridge for far too long. They were like a tupperware treasure chest full of the most gorgeous jewels in all the world that greeted me with their luminous, rich colors every time i opened the door. I became quite attached to them. So i kept them around for a week or so.

Eventually I snapped to reality and realized that the reason the berries had been sitting around for so long is actually because I was being a lazy and neglectful home cook. A lazy, neglectful home cook who overthinks and over-engineers every recipe in her head, cataloging and considering every single possibility that a berry holds. I didn't have enough for jam. A cake seemed like it would shut the berries up too much, and what a shame that would be. Pavlova crossed my mind several times. I was very drawn to the idea of using them for popsicles, but I have no molds, and dixie cups seemed a little too....unfancy. And so, the berries sat.

And sat.

Until I discovered that they were over-ripening before my very eyes. Not only that, but my window of time to return the tupperware containers to their owner and still remain a responsible adult in her eyes seemed to be closing. I'm only in my mid twenties so I'm still learning the Rules of Borrowed Tupperware and Serving Plates, but let's just call it a hunch.

Something had to be done, and fast.

So I made a batch of shortcakes, a recipe that has been in my repertoire since last summer. They're pretty killer... nearly foolproof, quite adaptable, cute looking, perfectly fine on their own or toasted with some jam, and just plain scrumptious.

To say that these shortcakes are "pretty killer" might be a little too modest. In the interest of communicating just how good they are, let me just say this: shortly after I made them last summer, in a game of charades where the character Strawberry Shortcake was written on the slip my friend Joey pulled, he pointed to me in an attempt to help his team guess the answer. And it worked.

What makes these this recipe especially outstanding is the abundance of cream and butter called for...what you get is more of a biscuit than a cake, and the pebbly-yet-sturdy crumb structure holds up to the addition of whipped cream and juicy berries terrifically. I found the recipe on the blog Honey & Jam. It looked lovely right off the bat, just like the rest of her blog, which is bursting at the seams with honest and inviting recipes. The only adaptation I made was swapping part of the sugar called for for Swedish pearl sugar. It's a lovely little droplet of snowy white sugar that- get this- doesn't melt when it comes into contact with liquids. It stays intact and therefore lends a lovely little crunch to whatever you use it in. Belgian pearl sugar has a larger grain, if you will, and is used in Belgian-style waffles and though I have never had the pleasure of sampling one in the country of origin, it's a pretty unreal experience to eat a waffle that is at once fluffy and crunchy because of SUGAR. These shortcakes share that property, and in my mind, that is what makes them extra special. I found the pearl sugar in my local specialty grocery store, but it's also sold at Sur La Table and online at Lar's Own, which is the brand of the stuff.

These shortcakes would also be great with any fruit you have on hand. I'm planning on picking up some stone fruits from the Farmer's Market later today, and I bet they would be delightful with roasted pears in the Fall, maybe using partial whole wheat flour or cornmeal to add a more rustic, autumnal flavor. A note on the flavor of these shortcakes....due to the whopping 2 Tablespoons of baking powder used to leaven the dough, the finished product does have an ever-so-slight tangy, mineral taste. While this is by no means a bad thing, it does pique my interest in using a blend of different flours to see what other flavor profiles I can achieve. If any of you experiment with this, please let me know! I will do the same for you. Promise.

Pearl Sugar Shortcakes with Mixed Berries

adapted from Honey & Jam

4 cups all-purpose flour

2 Tablespoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

4 Tablespoons granulated sugar

2 Tablespoons Swedish pearl sugar

1 1/2 sticks cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1 1/2 cups cold heavy cream

Preheat oven to 425. Whisk flour, baking powder, salt and sugars together in a large bowl. Drop in the butter, and toss to coat the pieces of butter with the flour mixture. Using a pastry blender or your fingers, rub the butter into the dry ingredients until the butter is evenly distributed and the mixture resembles very coarse cornmeal.

Pour the cold cream over the flour and butter mixture and toss gently until all ingredients are incorporated. The dough should be very soft, and be careful not to over mix...this will toughen the shortcakes. That being said, a few dry or crumbly spots in the dough are perfectly fine.

Using a measuring cup or an ice cream scoop, divide the dough into 1/3c portions. Space about 3 inches apart on a parchment lined cookie sheet, and pat down gently until each mound of dough is about 3/4 to 1 inch high.

Bake for 12-15 minutes or until the shortcakes have puffed and deepened in color just a bit. They should yield slightly when pressed gently with your fingertip (or the underside of a small spoon, if you have heat-sensitive fingertips). Allow to cool.

To make the berry-or-whatever-kind-of-fruit-mixture, just cut the fruit into bite-size pieces (if necessary), and sprinkle with as much sugar as desired. The point of the sugar is both to draw out some of the fruit's natural juices and to add any sweetness the fruit may lack, so use your own judgement here, even if it's just a tiny bit. I used about 1 Tablespoon to 1lb of mixed berries. I should also note that the 1lb of berries was enough for about 6-8 servings, whereas the shortcake recipe yields 16 cakes. Which is to say, you're gonna need more than a pound of fruit to accommodate the whole batch of shortcakes. But don't worry, they store wonderfully in a zip lock bag or any airtight container.

Also, please please please make your own whipped cream for this occasion. The store-bought stuff is just plain not worthy. It takes mere moments to whip up, tastes way better (in my opinion) and will even keep in your fridge for a few days. I used about 1 cup of cream, 1 Tablespoon of powdered sugar and 1 teaspoon of vanilla extract. I came out with just enough for the aforementioned 6-8 servings with this ratio, so if you're feeding a crowd or want to have extra around for the rest of the cakes, double or triple the amounts to your liking. I am certain this dessert would also be wonderful with ice cream, though I haven't tried it that way....yet.

To serve, cut the shortcakes in half crosswise, and dollop whipped cream on the bottom half, creating a little indentation with your spoon for the berries to nestle in. Spoon berries into/over whipped cream and top with the remaining half of the shortcake. At this point, I like to drizzle a little bit of the juice from the berries on top of the whole thing.

Pleased As Punch

I recently had the esteeming opportunity to help my friends Kimmie and Bonnie at Punch Portland with a photo shoot they put together for the lovely wedding website Green Wedding Shoes.

The shoot was an example of a table the ladies of Punch might put together for a special event. They're a talented duo...taking flower arrangements above and beyond (one bouquet they did had radishes in it. RADISHES. It made me want to get hitched immediately, to anyone who would have me, just so I could walk down the aisle with one) and adding well thought out, adorable and elegant design elements like well-hunted antique treasures, beautifully coordinated fabrics, and in this case, my berry tarts. Imagine my delight when I was approached with the idea! My only hint was that the theme of the shoot was red and white...I was allowed full creative license beyond that point. Exhilarating.

When Kimmie told me about her ideas for the shoot and that she wanted some sort of sweet treat for the table, my mind immediately went to tarts. They're something I love to make, can be made into virtually any size or shape, can take just about any sort of filling, and always look adorable. Tarts are a very honorable and noble pastry.

Tarts don't so much require a recipe as they do a formula. Figuring out the appropriate crust:filling:topping ratio is more important, and once you've tried out a few different methods, you'll be able to piece together the perfect tart based on the results you're after. Like a puzzle.

These tarts were made in a shortcrust shell which I weighed down and blind baked. Round of applause for using dried beans as pie weights? Anyone? I will never look at my ceramic-covered steel balls the same way again. In fact, they're up for grabs. Navy beans have won me over. I used the following recipe, adapted from Alice Medrich's Pure Desserts.

I've said it once and I will say it again....it's a phenomenal book. I had never used this crust recipe before, and it now remains in my repertoire. It's perfect.

Tart Crust

8 Tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

1/4c sugar

1t vanilla extract

1/8t salt

1c all-purpose flour

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a medium bowl, combine the melted butter with the sugar, vanilla and salt. Add the flour and mix just until well blended. If the dough seems too soft, let it stand for 5 minutes to firm up. Press evenly across the bottom and up the sides of the tart pan(s). Carefully trim up any ragged edges with a paring knife. Fill with pie weights or dry beans and bake for 15-25 minutes or until golden brown. The crust will continue to harden after it has been removed from the oven, so keep this in mind when determining when to remove it from the oven.

I piped a layer of pastry cream into the bottom of each shell and arranged sliced strawberries in concentric circles. I anchored them down by brushing on a glaze of warmed and strained 100% fruit apricot preserves....it's my understanding that this is a common tart glaze, especially when it comes to fresh fruit tarts. It makes perfect sense and works beautifully.

All photos were taken by Portland based wedding photographer Sara Gray. I just learned about her through this experience, and I'm glad i did. She is so talented and I am thrilled that my tarts were shot by her. It's the first time anything I have prepared has been professionally photographed, and I am so thankful to have had the experience. It was truly lovely.

Part One, in which my dreams of chewing on a Ladurée macaron are actualized. On Valentines Day, no less.

I work as a cook in a restaurant. The fact that I love food more than I love pug puppies, or lip balm, or air, or facebook.com helps me get through some of the inevitable downs, and the inevitable ups serve as fantastic little blessings that keep me loving my job, really and truly, even when I don't. Here's an example.

Picture this: Valentines Day, 2010. 7pm. I'm on line, getting the garnishes ready for the green pea bisque on the special prix fix menu we were running that night. The kitchen is total mayhem; produce scraps everywhere, every burner occupied, an overflowing dish pit, things catching fire, servers with a multitude of questions, tickets coming in faster than the machine can print them, and that's just the very beginning. Enter Aimee, one of the bartenders who had returned that very morning from a trip to France. From the corner of my eye, I watched as she set a round box atop the paper towel dispenser above the hand sink and walked out of the kitchen.

Prior to her departure, I gushed excitedly about all the Parisian delicacies I dream about, with the French macaron being at the very top of the list. Unlike the coconutty, coarse, domed cookie by the same name (but with two o's), the French macaron is comprised of two discs of meringue and, most commonly, sandwich a ganache or buttercream type filling. They are light as air, crumble to the touch and melt on the tongue. They take on different flavors beautifully and look like little jewels when lined up in pastry display cases. They are gorgeous little cookies.

I recognized the package immediately, strangely, though I have never seen one in the flesh (or should I say cardboard?) before. It's shade that is similar to Tiffany blue, moving towards seafoam green, and much more precious and exciting than anything involving diamonds in little boxes. The box was from Ladurée, which is said to be the first shop in Paris to introduce the macaron. In that moment, I ditched my duties and sprinted (literally) over to the lucky employee who got to handle this beautiful vessel before anyone else. Perhaps this individual saw that my eyes were welling up (literally) and that is what possessed him, all 6 feet and 4 inches of him, to hold the box above his head, wave it around, look down at me, all 5 feet and 3 inches of me, and ask me, in a mock-baby voice, if I "wanted the wittle cookies". I always knew I liked Aimee, but my heart swelled when she poked her head back into the kitchen, looked directly at the bully, and said sternly, "By the way, Danielle gets first pick. They're mainly for her".

I may have sworn. I may have stuttered. I surely stomped my feet and I definitely managed to leap high enough to snatch the box from his cruel paws. As everything around me turned to slow motion, I opened it as though it were a treasure chest and selected my first morsel. Pear. To be honest, I was hoping the green hue meant Pistachio, but I was in no position to be choosy in that moment. I have spent many a night copying and pasting the text from the Ladurée and Pierre Hermé websites into online translators so I can read what those geniuses have to say about their beautiful creations. I have also been known to use their photos as my desktop image.

I love my coworkers, and wanted everyone to have a chance to experience this little piece of Paris. I've also never had a problem with sharing, and the tickets were stacking up seriously fast, so I took a deep breath, set the box in a high traffic location and bid it adieu. After peeling the sticker from it, of course, and planting it in my day planner to ensure that this otherwise forgettable Valentines Day would go down in history.

When I got to work the next morning, I discovered that the box was still there and miraculously, there were STILL MACARONS IN IT. Since I was alone and had not yet had breakfast, I helped myself to two more. Raspberry and chocolate, which were both very delicious. I put the remaining 4 macarons on a plate and snuck the box up to the employee lounge and put it in my locker to take home with me that evening.

Once i came down from my Francophile high, I was able to assess what had happened and see things with a little more clarity. I was quite reasonably romanced by the origin of these particular macarons, and somehow, consuming them helped soften the harsh edge of the fact that I have never even been close to Europe. Flavor wise...ahem... I've had better. I found the flavors of the Ladurée macarons artificial and cloying, albeit vibrant and very, very straightforward. Macarons I have enjoyed locally have seemed more delicate, with flavors that registered as more natural on my palate, which is a trait I tend to favor.

Look forward to Part Two, in which I will successfully make a batch of my own if it's the last [expletive] thing I do. I tried twice last night and both batches were an utter disaster, it really put a damper on my evening. But I will prevail. I will.

Olive Juice, I love you.

I wasn't kidding when I said I've wept into soups. I'm also quite serious when I say that the Earth has moved beneath me during a salad eating experience.

I dined on this ethereal salad at a fantastic local restaurant called Toro Bravo. It was made with radicchio, a dark purply lettuce not unlike red cabbage, but in the chickory family. It was dressed with Spanish olive oil and a snowfall of manchego cheese, and the crowning glory was a slice of toasted baguette spread with a delightful green olive tapenade which pulled the dish together phenomenally.

Never being one to stray from too much of a good thing, I decided to take the components and usher them to a main-dish level. I picked up some lovely, buttery Picholine olives (hailing from France) and made a relish, of sorts, with those and some capers and a spoonfull of whole grain dijon mustard for extra body and richness.

The foundation is toasted baguette slices rubbed with garlic. The radicchio is given a few turns in the very skillet in which the relish has been warmed, heaped atop the baguette, and then a poached egg enters the picture, and to really cover all the bases, I suggest a few generous shavings of Parmigiano Reggiano cheese.

The warm dressing on this dish adds such a nice effect- the briny nature of the olives, capers and mustard opens up into a very special kind of salty-sweet, and the olives become hearty and toothsome under the warmth. I add the egg for several reasons: 1) I love eggs. 2) I love eggs on salad and 3) when punctured with your fork, the yolk spills out and coats the radicchio in a way that is almost sexy, if you're willing to consider it as such.

Radicchio Salad with Warm Green Olive Dressing, Garlic Toast and Poached Egg

1 head Radicchio cabbage

1T Green olives, pitted and roughly chopped

1T capers, roughly chopped

1T brine from capers

1T Dijon mustard

2T good-quality olive oil

Baguette

Garlic cloves

1 egg per serving

Salt and pepper to taste

Split each head of radicchio in half lengthwise. Cut out core, slice each half in half once more, and separate leaves. Submerge in ice water (radicchio is rather bitter in taste and this process helps cut through some of that). Drain and dry completely.

Toast Baguette slices and rub with a clove of garlic on each side.

Warm oil in a large skillet on medium heat . Add mustard, followed by brine from capers. Reduce heat to low. Now would be a good time to poach your eggs. That's another blog post entirely, but I suggest the method found on WikkiHow.

Turn heat back up to medium-high. Place raddichio leaves in pan and give them a few quick turns and tosses to coat, allowing to soften up a bit before piling on top of baguette. Place poached egg on top, followed by any additional dressing from the pan and parmiggiano.

This is a flexible recipe and quantities can be adjusted to how many you are serving, or serving size. The components of this salad keep beautifully and can be put together in no time for a quick meal- just keep the dressing separate from the radicchio, set it on the stove when the mood strikes, toast your bread, poach your egg, toss it all together, grab a fork and tuck in.

Hello. Hi. Welcome.

I am so happy to be here.

You may notice that I seem a little excited... I've been daydreaming (and afternoondreaming, and nightdreaming) of starting this very blog for quite some time. Here we are, at long last.

I'll slap up a more lengthy backstory in my profile eventually. For now i'd just like to go on record and say that I am absolutely, utterly, no-doubt-about-it OBSESSED and IN MAJOR LOVE with food. Since early childhood, I have been over the moon. I've wept tears of joy into soups, sketched desserts, whispered sweet nothings (and the occasional insult) to produce and made very detailed outlines for meals I plan to cook. Food is my ultimate passion, at least so far. Food and I are pretty tight, and I just can't get it out of my mind. Ever. Not like I've tried.

And so, without further ado, for my blog's Maiden Voyage, I bring you Chocolate Cherry Bread Pudding.

(I used the recipe for Nutella Bread Pudding from Alice Medrich's Pure Desserts as a template. It's a phenomenal book.

Chocolate Cherry Bread Pudding

4c cubed brioche loaf*

1c dried cherries

1c chopped bittersweet chocolate, such as callebaut 60%

5 eggs

1/2c sugar

1 1/4c heavy cream

1 1/4c whole milk

4T cherry brandy

2t vanilla

1/2t salt

*Any light-colored, neutral-or-buttery-flavored bread would be a totally appropriate substitute. Think leftover baguette or sandwich bread. It's also fine if you want to leave the crust on... there are few hard and fast rules to bread pudding.

Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Place brioche cubes on a sheet pan in a single layer. Bake until light golden, about 5-10 minutes. Try to stay alert during this part... brioche burns easily. Allow to cool and transfer to a large bowl.

Place dried cherries and 2T cherry brandy in a small saucepan and cook over low heat just unti cherries begin to soften and the liquid starts to simmer and reduce. Remove from heat.

In another large bowl, combine the eggs, cream, milk, remaining brandy, vanilla and salt. Whisk well to combine and set aside.

Gently toss brioche cubes with cherries and chopped chocolate and transfer to an 8x8 square baking dish. Pour cream mixture over bread mixture and cover loosely with plastic wrap. Place something on top to act as a weight for 15 or 20 minutes while the bread slurps up the custard and the flavors get to know eachother. I used a smaller square baking dish and my roommate's gigantic bowl of grapefruits.

Set a kettle of water on to boil. Uncover the dish and place in another pan large enough to hold it with space on all sides. Pull out the middle oven rack, place the large pan on it and carefully pour in enough boiling water to reach about halfway up the sides of the baking dish.

Bake for 50 minutes to one hour, or until a knife inserted comes out clean. It's best to let it cool/set up for an hour or so, but I certainly won't shame you if you can't help the urge to dive right in.

Here's a fun fact: I'm generally not super into whipped cream. However, certain situations call for it, and I found that a humble dollop followed by some shaved chocolate really made the dessert sing.