À Bout de Souffle (Grand Marnier)

Classical thermodynamics…is the only physical theory of universal content which I am convinced…will never be overthrown.
~Albert Einstein

The chemistry of a soufflé is relatively simple. First the yolks (mostly fats) are separated from the whites or albumen (more proteins) which uncoil their spiral shapes as they are beaten until just stiff, a process called denaturation. The egg white proteins latch onto one another and create a miniscule web of trapped air bubbles. Actually, the protein in the egg whites forms a kind of skin around these bubbles.

When the yolks and whites are gently folded together and the batter is heated, the air bubbles expand and give the soufflé its almost gravity-defying puffed up architecture. Obeying the laws of thermodynamics which study the relation between heat and energy, the soufflé follows the natural tendency for things to move from order towards chaos and randomness. (The 2nd Rule at work.) After rising, with even slight cooling—energy is lost, entropy ensues and that fateful collapse occurs.

Served immediately, a Grand Marnier soufflé is breathtaking.

GRAND MARNIER SOUFFLE

1/3 C all-purpose flour
1/4 C sugar
1 C milk

2 T butter
5 large egg yolks
3 T Grand Marnier

Butter, for greasing
Sugar

5 large egg whites
1 1/2 T sugar

Confectioner’s sugar
Orange zest

Preheat oven to 375 F

In a small heavy saucepan, whisk the flour and sugar together. In another small heavy saucepan, bring the milk to a gentle simmer. Slowly add the hot milk to the flour mixture, whisking until smooth. Place over medium heat and stir until the mixture simmers and thickens. Stir in the butter, then the egg yolks, one at a time, and then the Grand Marnier. Allow the mixture to cool.

Butter an 8″ soufflé dish and roll the sugar around in it to fully cover the bottom and sides, tapping out any excess. Using a stand up or hand mixer, beat the egg whites to soft peaks, and then gradually beat in the sugar. Beat just until the whites are stiff but not dry. Slowly fold the beaten whites into the soufflé base, until just blended. Turn the mixture into the soufflé dish.

Place the soufflé dish in a baking dish, and add enough hot water to come about 1/2″ up the side of the soufflé dish. Bake until the soufflé has risen just over the rim and is lightly browned, but is still jiggly in the center, about 15 minutes. Sprinkle with confectioner’s sugar and orange zest. Serve promptly.

Pots de Crème (au Chocolat)

America is my country and Paris is my hometown.
~Gertrude Stein

It may seem obvious from past ramblings that I am an unabashed francophile. So, given that yesterday was Bastille Day, allow me to regale some. Every year this month we should remember and embrace the many bonds between both the republics of America and France. (America should now be more accurately deemed an oligarchy.) Founded upon principles of liberty and equality and violent revolutions launched by a deep resentment and distrust of monarchies, these countries do have kindred origins. Unfortunately, in our age of microwave memory, bumper sticker rhetoric and historical ignorance, the shared admiration which should infuse our relationship is so often discarded. Rational discourse sometimes devolves into jingoist rant. Even given the many errors of both countries’ ways and the diplomatic tensions that have arisen, some mutual respect and affection should bathe both sides of the pond.

To some, France and America may seem improbable partners. But, before you go there consider:

French fur traders and explorers blazed territories on the continent never before seen by whites.
The Revolutionary War which granted sovereignty and independence to the colonies would have likely been lost if not for French financial support and military backing.
Marquis de La Fayette, who served as major general in the Continental Army and negotiated an increase in French patronage, was considered the adoptive son of George Washington.
The first comprehensive sociological study of the American people was written by a French historian, Alexis de Tocqueville.
The French language, which was the tongue of the English court and the civilized world, has lent so many words and phrases to American english.
The states more than doubled in size with the purchase of the Louisiana Territory from France.
The Statue of Liberty, other statues and urban design plans were courtesy of French artists and designers.
Millions of Americans are of French descent and many still embrace the culture and language.
Flocks of exuberant American writers, musicians, artists have studied and performed freely in France.
During both world wars, innumerable American and French soldiers and civilians perished side by side on French soil.
Each nation has brazenly borrowed, shared and mimicked the other’s cultures, cuisines, wines, music, art, architecture, styles, and clothing.

Far from a comprehensive list.

This is not to say that meaningful criticism is out of order. Face it—neither country has been beyond reproach. Over history, both France and America have engaged in rampant colonialism, have committed heinous judicial sins, have pursued political imperialism, and have displayed condescending and arrogant behavior. Both have invaded, dominated and subordinated, even enslaved, other peoples. Both have cruelly and shamefully imprisoned, tortured, maimed and killed in the vainglorious name of the state. Both have engaged in improvident, tragic wars. Neither have clean hands. France and America have shared in some disgraceful histories, and ordinary citizens have a duty to remind partisan politicians and biased press alike.

These are imperfect societies governed by imperfect, sometimes maladjusted, peoples. They are ongoing political and anthropological experiments. Our cultural similarities should be cherished and the dissimilarities should not just be accomodated, but nutured. Mutual respect and a sane, humble historical perspective should ever underly our differences…with ever vigilant eyes toward not repeating dark history.

Chauvinism under the guise of patrotism has no place at this table. Pots de crème, chilled champagne and good company do.

POTS DE CREME

3 ozs superior bittersweet chocolate (70% cocoa), cut into small pieces

2 C heavy cream
1/2 C whole milk

5 egg yolks
1/4 C granulated sugar
Pinch salt

Preheat oven to 325 F

Melt the chocolate in a medium heatproof bowl set over a heavy sauce pan with gently simmering water. When the chocolate is close to being melted, turn off the heat and let stand until completely melted.

Meanwhile, in a medium sauce pan, scald the cream and milk.

In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, sugar, and salt until the sugar is completely dissolved. Very slowly whisk the hot cream mixture into the yolks so that the eggs do not cook.

Pour the hot cream mixture through a fine mesh strainer into the melted chocolate. Whisk until fully incorporated and smooth.

Divide chocolate custard among 6 small ramekins. Line the bottom of a baking pan with a folded kitchen towel and arrange filled ramekins on towel. Pour in hot water to the halfway level on the ramekins. Cover with foil and bake in the hot water bath (bain marie), until custards are set around edges but still slightly wobbly in the center, 30 to 35 minutes.

Carefully remove the ramekins from the bain marie, and allow to cool to room temperature. Then, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm, about 4 hours. Serve with a dollop of hazelnut whipped cream and a glass of bubbly.

Crème de Noisettes (Hazelnut Whipped Cream)

3 T hazelnuts
2 C heavy whipping cream
1 vanilla bean split, seeds scraped out
2 T sugar

Preheat oven to 350 F

Toast hazelnuts until brown, about 20 minutes. When the nuts are cool, rub them in your hands to release the papery skins. Chop them in a cook’s knife or pulse in the food processor fitted with the steel knife until finely ground.

In a small saucepan, bring cream just to the boil. Turn off the heat and add the nuts. Cover, and allow to steep for 30 minutes. Transfer to a bowl and chill overnight.

The next day, pour the cream through a fine mesh strainer into the bowl of a mixer fitted with a whisk. Using the back of a wooden spoon, press on the nuts to push out the cream. Whip with vanilla and sugar until soft peaks form.

Figs, Badminton & Short Skirts

The finest clothing made is a person’s skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this.
~Mark Twain

The delicious fig has often borne the burden of negative connotation. Fig leaf even carries a pejorative metaphorical sense of covering up behaviors or thangs that are embarrassing or shameful…the implication being that the cover is merely a token gesture and the reality of what lies underneath is all too obvious. Who can forget the biblical tale of Adam and Eve strategically covering their god given genitals in that original act of christian expurgation? Of course, none of us ever deigned to imagine what lurked beneath those leaves.

Prim and proper, yet highly skilled and insanely face paced, badminton now wants to lift the proverbial fig leaf some. The sport is engulfed in a controversy incited by an officially sanctioned dress code. In a effort to revive flagging interest, the World Federation has mandated that elite women must now wear more revealing skirts or dresses as many now compete in shorts or baggy tracksuit pants. In a typical “sex sells” approach, the Federation in conjunction with the marketing firm Octagon has decided that more flesh translates into a larger following. “We’re not trying to use sex to promote the sport, we just want them to look feminine and have a nice presentation so women will be more popular,” naïvely remarked a deputy president of the Federation to the New York Times. It comes as little surprise that the Badminton World Federation is male dominated.

The reaction to requiring more skin while not universal has been almost zealously critical. Those offended who seek to have the rule abolished simply argue that the governing body of a sport decreeing a “less is better” clothing code for women smacks of overt sexism. Seems a point well made. Perhaps the governing board should compel male shuttlecockers to be barechested in speedos and women to be adorned in skimpy tops and thongs—now that would draw some throngs.

It just seems clothing optional should be a personal choice.

FIG COMPOTE

1/2 C turbinado (raw) sugar
1/2 C unprocessed local honey
Zest of 1 lemon
1/2 t vanilla extract
2 C cold water

2 C dried black mission or mediterranean figs, stemmed and halved

1+ C premium balsamico di Modena

Place the sugar, honey, lemon zest, vanilla and water in a small saucepan over moderately low heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the sugar is dissolved. Put the figs in a medium bowl, pour the syrup over the figs and allow to cool for about 4 hours.

Drain and discard the syrup, then put the figs in an airtight container and add enough balsamic vinegar to cover well. Cover and refrigerate for another 4 hours.

Serve over a fine ice cream of choice or topped with marscapone or freshly whipped cream—even gracing pork or lamb dishes.

P.S. The BWF announced Sunday that it was scrapping the rule that would have forced women to wear skirts or dresses in elite competition.

Mundane Muffins? Nah, Not Really.

If to be interesting is to be uncommonplace, it is becoming a question, with me, if there are any commonplace people.
~Mark Twain

I openly admit to primitive pastry and baking skills. My purlieu lies elsewhere, in a more savory world.

The term “muffin” is derived either from the French word moufflet, meaning a soft bread, or from the German word muffe which is the name for a type of cake. Much like pancakes, it is a two bowl yeast-less method where you simply fold the wet into the dry. Please do not overmix—this overdevelops the gluten in the flour which causes tough muffins with tunnels and a compact, almost rubbery texture. Always hand stir the batter until just thick and lumpy.

Symmetrical with domed tops, these muffins are humble homages to those overripe bananas or luscious blueberries peering at you from the counter or fridge. In either event, moist and tender muffins are fine ways to fuel up a morning coupled with a morning cup of joe, or they can be that needed pick me up when you hit that proverbial late afternoon wall…maybe they are an occasional antidote to circadian cycle hiccups.

This may fall short of provocative fare that elicits raves. Then again, things plebeian are not always prosaic.

BANANA OAT MUFFINS

1 1/2 C walnuts

2 C all-purpose flour
1 1/2 C rolled oats
1 1/2 C granulated white sugar
2 t baking powder
1/2 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
2 t ground cinnamon
Grating of nutmeg

4 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 C unsalted butter (1 stick), melted and cooled
6 very ripe large bananas (approximately 1 lb.), mashed well (about 1-1/2 cups)
2 t pure vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350 F

Place the nuts on a baking sheet and bake for about 8 to 10 minutes or until lightly toasted. Let cool and then chop coarsely.

In a large bowl combine the flour, oats, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg and nuts.

In a medium-sized bowl combine the mashed bananas, eggs, melted butter, and vanilla.

Lightly fold the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients until just combined, and the batter is thick and chunky. Take care not to over mix the batter as totally smooth batter will yield tough, rubbery muffins.

Line two 12 holed muffin pans with paper liners or butter. Spoon the batter into the prepared tins. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 20-25 minutes. Place on a wire rack to cool for five minutes and then remove muffins from pan.

BLUEBERRY MUFFINS

5 C all-purpose flour
1 C granulated white sugar
1/2 C raw sugar
3 t baking powder
1 t baking soda
1/2 t salt
Zest of one orange
Zest of one lemon

2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 1/2 C buttermilk or plain low-fat yogurt
1 1/3 C canola oil
2 t pure vanilla extract
3 1/2 C fresh blueberries

Preheat oven to 350 F

In a large bowl, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, orange and lemon zests. Gently fold in the blueberries.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the egg, buttermilk, oil, and vanilla extract.
Fold the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir only until the ingredients are combined. Do not over mix the batter as smooth batter will yield tough, rubbery muffins.

Line two 12 holed muffin pans with paper liners or butter. Spoon the batter into the prepared tins. Fill each muffin cup about 3/4 full of batter. Place in the oven and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean, about 20-25 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool for about 5 minutes before removing from pan.

Cupcakes — Serious Whimsy

For me, the cinema is not a slice of life, but a piece of cake.
~Alfred Hitchcock

May seem decidedly banal to some, but these winsome morsels have gained a new found presence in the food chain.

An invention of the early 19th century, cupcakes evolved as a kitchen convenience—a quicker, dainty cake. The earliest written reference to the term “cupcake” was in Eliza Leslie’s 1828 cookbook Receipts. Two theories have emerged behind the word. One was that they were cakes simply cooked in cups, and the other referred to a cake where the ingredients were measured by cups. Before then, cake baking ingredients had traditionally been weighed.

In recent years, cupcakes have become much the culinary pop icon with bakeries, shops, stands, mobile vendors, cookbooks, blogs, and magazines devoted solely to these sweet delicacies. Classic chocolate and vanilla have given way to more hip, theatrical versions such as strawberry champagne, tiramisu with marscapone, meringue buttercream and pinot noir chocolate.

A more traditional, but far from timid, cupcake follows.

YELLOW CUPCAKES WITH CHOCOLATE ICING

3 C all purpose flour
2 C granulated white sugar
3 t baking powder
1/2 t salt

1 C unsalted butter, room temperature, cut into pieces
2 large eggs
4 large egg yolks
2 t pure vanilla extract

1 C whole plain yogurt

Line two muffin tins (24 muffin cups) with paper liners. Preheat oven to 350 F

In the bowl of an electric mixer, or with a hand mixer, beat to combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the butter, egg, egg yolks, vanilla extract, and yogurt. Beat the wet and dry ingredients together at medium speed until the batter is smooth and satiny, about 30 seconds. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, assuring that he flour is fully incorporated.

Evenly fill the muffin cups with the batter and bake until pale gold, about 20-25 minutes, and a toothpick inserted into a cupcake comes out clean. Remove from oven and place on a wire rack to cool. Once the cupcakes have completely cooled, frost with icing.

Chocolate Icing

8 ozs high quality unsweetened chocolate (70% cocoa), coarsely chopped
1 1/3 C unsalted butter, room temperature
2 2/3 C confectioners (powdered) sugar, sifted
1 t pure vanilla extract

Melt the chocolate in a heatproof bowl placed over a saucepan of simmering water. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, or with a hand mixer, beat the butter until smooth and creamy, about 1 minute. Add the sugar and beat until it is light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Beat in the vanilla extract. Add the chocolate and beat on low speed until incorporated. Increase the speed to medium high and beat until frosting is smooth and glossy, about 2 -3 minutes.

Fanny’s Faux Pas — Tarte Tatin

An icon born of error.

Filial fare. Word has it that two sisters, Caroline (b. 1847) and Stéphanie Tatin (b. 1838), created this simple, to die for, Belle Époque tarte. They lived in Lamotte-Beuvron, a small rural town in the Loire Valley where they managed l’Hôtel Tatin. Lamotte-Beuvron is located in the forested hunting region known as the Sologne, about 100 miles from Paris.

The elder sister, Stéphanie a/k/a Fanny, manned the hotel kitchen…an exquisite cook but not the brightest bulb in the room. Locals, such as Claude Monet, made a point to spend Sunday afternoons savoring long, leisurely lunches there.

Stéphanie’s specialty was a luscious apple tarte, served ever so crusty and caramelized. One midday, while mired in the weeds during the hectic hunting season, Stéphanie started to make her usual apple tarte but in haste left the apples cooking in butter and sugar, forgetting to line the pan with crust. Time not being her ally, she decided not to begin the tarte anew. So, she tried to rescue the dish by putting the pastry on top of the apples, and finished the tarte in the oven with the pastry and apples reversed. She then inverted the pan and served up the new fangled tarte renversée to guests who, to her surprise, purred nothing but formidables. Soon, it became a signature house dish and was later dubbed la tarte des demoiselles Tatin.

The tarte did not rise to gastronomic prominence until the epicure Curnonsky included it in a volume of La France Gastronomique dedicated to l’Orléannais, the region around Orléans that encompasses Lamotte-Beuvron. In the late 1930s, the rustic tarte’s celebrity rose to new heights when it appeared on the menu of Maxim’s, the famed Parisian restaurant.

Now, a global culinary darling: The tarte of two unmarried women named Tatin, or Tarte Tatin.

LA TARTE TATIN

Pastry Dough (Pâte Brisée Fine)
1 C all purpose flour
8 T (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into small bits
Pinch of sea salt
1/2 t granulated sugar
1/3 C+ ice water

Briefly mix the flour, butter, salt and sugar in a bowl with your fingers. The pieces of butter should still be visible. Add the water, roll the mixture into a ball and knead for a minute or so. Do not overknead—the dough should have body and be pliable, but not too elastic and dry. Wrap well in plastic and let dough rest in refrigerator for one hour before rolling.

Tarte
5 to 6 Golden Delicious apples, quartered, cored and peeled
Grated rind of 1 lemon
Juice on 1 lemon
1 1/2 C sugar
1 vanilla bean, halved and seeds scraped
6 T unsalted butter, cut into 1/2″ pieces

Pastry dough

Preheat oven to 425 F

Cut the apple quarters in half lengthwise. Toss in a bowl with the lemon and 1/2 cup of sugar. Allow to steep until they exude their juices, about 20 minutes. Drain.

Melt the butter in a 10″ heavy-high-rimmed-non-stick-oven-proof pan over moderately high heat. Blend in the vanilla bean and remaining 1 cup sugar. Stir with a wooden spoon for several minutes, until the syrup turns a caramel hue. It will smooth out later, when the apples juices dissolve the sugar.

Remove from heat and arrange a layer of apple slices nicely in the bottom of the pan. Flare the apples slices in closely packed circles around the circumference of the pan, filling in the middle. Add enough apples to heap up 1″ higher than the rim of the pan. They sink down as they cook.

Set the pan again over moderately high heat, pressing the apples down with a wooden spatula as they soften. Draw the accumulated juices over the apples with a bulb baster. When the apples begin to soften, cover the pan and continue cooking 10-15 minutes, checking and basting frequently until the juices are thick and syrupy. Remove from heat.

Roll the chilled dough to 1/8″ thick and a circle with a diameter 1″ larger than the top of the pan. Fold the dough in half, then in quarters and center over the apples. Then, unfold the dough over the apples. Press the edges of the dough down between the apples and the inside of the pan. Cut a few steam escape holes from around the center of the dough.

Bake until the pastry has browned and crisped, about 20 minutes. Remove from oven and tilt the pan. If the juices are runny rather than a thick syrup, boil down rapidly on top on the stove, but not to the point that the apples stick to the pan.

Place a serving platter upside down on top of the pastry and carefully flip the platter and the pan over, allowing the tart to fall gently out of the pan.

Serve warm, with whipped cream, ice cream or sweetened mascarpone.

Pourboire: Tarte Tatin can be made with other fruits, such as pears or quince. As you may imagine, savory versions exist too. A medley of wild mushrooms and herbs?

Brownies — An American Relic

What you see before you, my friend, is the result of a lifetime of chocolate.
~Katherine Hepburn

While brownies may be considered undersexed in technique, when eaten they can be almost lewd.

Some sources trace the origin of the iconic brownie to the 1896 The Boston Cooking School Cook Book, written by the esteemed Fannie Farmer—but that was more of a cookie/confection that was flavored with molasses and made in fluted molds. Then in an 1897 Sears, Roebuck and Co. Catalog there was a recipe for a molasses candy dubbed “brownies” which were named after the legendary, magical elves that had become the rage in pop culture then. Brownies were those rarely seen, occasionally mischievous, creatures that lived in houses or barns and finished undone housework in return for food favors.

About a decade later, the first cake brownie recipe appeared in the 1906 edition of The Boston Cooking School Cook Book which proved less rich and chocolate laden than today’s brownies. The following year, along came a recipe for “Bangor Brownies” in Lowney’s Cook Book, authored by Maria Howard which added extra eggs and chocolate, creating a more luscious chocolate brownie. Since the early decades of last century, brownies have held a prominent place in America’s kitchens with myriad versions on the same theme.

Intensely chocolate and chewy in texture, this edition demands a scoop or two of fine vanilla ice cream. As always, the key is exquisite chocolate.

BROWNIES

1 C all purpose flour
1/2 t salt

5 ozs gourmet dark chocolate (at least 70% cocoa), chopped
1/2 C (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces

1 T fine cocoa powder
1 1/2 C granulated sugar
1 t pure vanilla extract
3 large eggs
1/2 C walnuts, chopped (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F

Butter an 8″ square baking pan.

In a small bowl, mix together the flour and salt and set aside.

Melt the chocolate and butter in a large bowl placed over a heavy saucepan of simmering water, stirring frequently. Remove from heat and allow to cool some. Then stir in the cocoa powder, sugar, vanilla extract and eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Finally, stir in the flour mixture and walnuts.

Spread evenly in the prepared pan and bake until an inserted toothpick comes out almost clean, about 30-40 minutes. Do not overcook. If anything, undercook them lightly so they remain chewy. Allow to rest before slicing.

Tiramisù & Warped Ideology

I feel the end approaching. Quick, bring me my dessert, coffee and liqueur.
~Jean-Antheleme Brillat-Savarin’s great aunt Pierette

No, this is not a delusion…just another ladleful of ignorance added to the broth.

As the nation’s second largest textbook market, Texas has enormous leverage over publishers, who often craft their standard textbooks based on buyers’ specs. So, when it comes to the very books which teach the basics to our children, what happens in Texas rarely stays in Texas…to the chagrin of genuine academia and our children’s children. Driven by a paranoid, chauvinistic mindset that has been advanced as gospel truth, in three short days of turbulent yet less than intellectually honest meetings, the Texas Board of Education simply removed Thomas Jefferson from the curriculum. Off the bench, they replaced him in the lineup with a couple of religious icons: a Siclian, St. Thomas Aquinas and a Frenchman, John Calvin. How quickly theological tenets can become widely peddled as ipse dixit school books.

Summarily guillotining the scrivener of the Declaration of Independence from the horizons of our history? According to these pious Texans, Jefferson’s heinous sin was that (along with other Founding Fathers) he was committed to a purely secular government. Even his onetime adversary, and later pen pal, John Adams is twisting in his grave at such wretched illiteracy. Hopefully, the board members comprehend this severe blow to students across the land—inevitably leading to a lack of a common notion of reality among youth. Shame to those zealots who added to the stoning of President Jefferson.

Something sweet is needed to assuage such bitterness.

Translated as “pick me up” or “pull me up,” tiramisù has recent culinary origins, i.e., during my children’s generation. This only makes sense as my daughter is openly smittten by this creamy-coffee-brandy-chocolate-finger caked ambrosia. Heaven in a spoon—or in a darker calvinist vein, a sinful indulgence demanding redemption, salvation, absolution and all that brimstony blah-blah-blah.

Buon appetito, mia figlia

TIRAMISU

1/2 C strong espresso
1/4 C brandy

3 large egg whites

3 large egg yolks
1/4 C sugar
1 t high quality vanilla extract
2 C mascarpone

30 small savoiardi (Italian ladyfingers)
3.5 ozs bittersweet chocolate, grated

Bittersweet chocolate, shaved (for topping)

Mix the coffee and brandy together in a long, shallow bowl sufficient for the length of the ladyfingers and set aside.

In a medium bowl, beat the egg whites to stiff and glossy peaks with a hand whisk or an electric mixer fitted with a whisk. Set aside.

With a whisk or in an electric mixer fitted with a paddle, beat egg yolks, sugar and vanilla until mixture is pale and thick and forms ribbons. Slowly fold the mascarpone into the egg yolk mixture. Then, with a spatula fold in the egg whites into the marscarpone mixture, and set aside.

Quickly dip the savoiardi in the espresso and brandy mixture. Do not drench the ladyfingers or they will self destruct as you arrange them. Arrange them on the bottom in one layer in a 9″ x 9″ x 3″ rectangular or oval dish and sprinkle with grated chocolate. Stand the savoiardi standing on end around the dish. As necessary, shorten the ladyfingers to fill the spaces. Pour half the mascarpone mixture over and spread evenly. Repeat the layers of dipped ladyfingers, mascarpone mixture and grated chocolate.

Lightly smooth the top with mascarpone mixture and strew with shaved bittersweet chocolate.

Serve immediately at room temperature or refrigerate and serve chilled.

To MLK — Pecan Pie

The megalomaniac differs from the narcissist by the fact that he wishes to be powerful rather than charming, and seeks to be feared rather than loved. To this type belong many lunatics and most of the great men of history.
~Bertrand Russell

Pastor of the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama. A minister whose nonviolent social activism exposed white American hypocrisy and kindled the way for the civil rights movement. A member of the executive committee of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, and president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. He conferred with President John Kennedy and campaigned for President Lyndon Johnson. He rubbed elbows with the powerful and walked with the common man. He was arrested upwards of twenty times and assaulted at least four times. Awarded five honorary degrees, he was named Man of the Year by Time magazine in 1963. At the age of 35, Martin Luther King, Jr., was the youngest man to have received the Nobel Peace Prize.

Now to the darker side. Hoping to prove the Reverend was under the influence of subversives, Communists and other sources of obsessive paranoia, the FBI kept the civil rights leader under constant surveillance. The almost fanatical zeal with which the agency pursued King is disclosed in a paper trail of tens of thousands of FBI memos which detailed concerted efforts to derail King’s efforts in the civil rights movement.

The Bureau even convened a meeting of department heads to “explore how best to carry on our investigation to produce the desired results without embarrassment to the Bureau,” which included “a complete analysis of the avenues of approach aimed at neutralizing King as an effective Negro leader.”

In 1963, a month before the March on Washington, the megalomaniacal, capricioius FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover filed a request with then Attorney General Robert Kennedy to tap King’s and his associates’ phones and to bug their homes and offices. Oh, how that whitest of white Hoover destested King. Sadly, Kennedy consented to the technical surveillance, granting the FBI permission to break into King’s office and home to install the bugs, as long as agents recognized the “delicacy of this particular matter” and did not get caught installing them. All ordered with a voyeuristic proviso — Kennedy was to be personally informed of any pertinent findings. Speaking of, was Hoover really a cross-dresser or was that unsubstantiated rumor about the king of rumormongers with his “secret files” on potentates? And as a man that made it his business to blackmail homosexuals, who was this closeted lifelong partner of Hoover’s, agent Clyde “The Glide” Tolson?

Martin Luther King was also a man who adored pie, particularly pecan. As do I. Celebrate his sadly shortened life with a slice.

PECAN PIE

Pastry (Pâte Fine Sucrée)
2 egg yolks
6 T ice water

2 1/2 C all purpose flour
1/4 t salt
3 T granulated white sugar
2 sticks unsalted butter, chilled, and cut into 1″ bits

Filling
1 C dark brown sugar
2/3 C light corn syrup
1 T rum or bourbon
4 T unsalted butter
3 large eggs
1/4 C heavy whipping cream
1/4 t sea salt
2 C pecans, toasted and coarsely chopped

Pastry:
Gently whisk the yolk with the water until it is well blended.

Place the flour, salt, and sugar in a food processor and pulse until combined. Add the butter and process until the mixture resembles coarse meal, about 10-15 seconds. Pour water and yolk mixture through the feed tube until the dough just holds together when pinched. If necessary, add more water. Do not process more than 30 seconds. Knead the dough for less than one minute and your work surface and then gather into a ball.

(Alternatively, place the flour, salt, and sugar in a bowl and combine. Add the butter and work with your hands, mashing it through your fingers to have everything blend together. It will form into small lumps or a cornmeal like consistency after 1 or 2 minutes. Pour the yolk mixture into the bowl and mix vigorously with your fingers until all the ingredients are assembled together into a ball.)

Divide the dough in half, flattening each half into a thick disk, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least one hour before using. This will chill the butter and relax the gluten in the flour.

After chilling, unwrap and place one dough on a floured surface and sprinkle the top of the dough with flour too. Roll the pastry with light pressure, from the center out. To prevent the pastry from sticking to the counter and to ensure uniform thickness, add some flour and keep lifting up and turning the pastry a quarter turn as you roll from the center of the pastry outwards. Turn the dough over once or twice during the rolling process until it is about 11″ in diameter and less than 1/4″ thick. Fold the dough in half and gently transfer to a 9″ pie pan by draping it over the rolling pin, then moving it onto the plate and unrolling it. Once in the plate, press the dough firmly into the bottom and sides of the pan. Trim the excess dough to about 1/2″ all around the dish, then tuck it under itself around the edge of the plate. Brush off any excess flour and trim the edges of the pastry to fit the pie pan.

Refrigerate the pastry, covered with plastic wrap, for about 30 minutes before pouring in the filling.

Preheat oven to 350 F. Place the oven rack in the bottom third of the oven.

Filling:
In a large saucepan, heat the brown sugar, syrup, rum, and butter until boiling, stirring constantly. Remove from heat and let cool until tepid. Meanwhile, in a separate bowl, whisk the eggs. When the boiled syrup has cooled, beat in the eggs, salt, and cream.

Remove the chilled pastry crust from the refrigerator and evenly distribute the chopped pecans over the bottom of the crust. Then pour the filling evenly over the nuts. Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center of the pie will come out clean, about 50 minutes. If you find the edges of the pie crust are over browning during baking, cover with foil. Remove from oven and place on a wire rack to cool. Serve warm or at room temperature with vanilla ice or whipping cream.

As American as Mom & Apple Pie?

Good apple pies are a considerable part of our domestic happiness.
~Jane Austen

Apple season draws nigh, and so does that pie. The pomaceous and biblically forbidden fruit of the apple tree, species Malus domestica, has been transformed into a scrumptious icon of motherhood—apple pie—an almost strangely ironic culinary image of Americana. Over centuries, the apple has historically become a symbol for temptation, seduction and outright sin. In Latin, the words in singular for “apple” (malus) and “evil” (malum) are strikingly similar, and they are even identical in the plural form. So it follows that by eating the malus from the tree of knowledge, Eve contracted malum.

The protusion at the front of the human throat has been called an “Adam’s Apple” simply because the forbidden fruit became lodged in Adam’s throat. Right.

Paris gave the golden apple of Eris (goddess of discord and strife) to Aphrodite after being bribed by her with the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen. In so doing, he incurred the wrath of Hera and Athena who also coveted the fruit. So, this pome pass ultimately caused the epic Trojan war.

The “fruit of the poisonous tree” is a metaphorically oriented legal doctrine that describes evidence gathered with the aid of information obtained illegally. That is, if the source of evidence (the “tree”) is tainted, then anything gained from it (the “fruit”) is as well and therefore inadmissible. An extension of the now rapidly eroding exclusionary rule, the “fruit of the poisonous tree” became precedent in a U.S. Supreme Court case, Silverthorne Lumber Co. v. United States, 251 U.S. 385 (1920). Even though it has legal underpinnings, the phrase has biblical origins in the gospel of Matthew which goes something like this:

Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither [can] a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them. Matthew 7:17-20

Given the negative implications, dark origins and sin appended to the apple, how did that hackneyed simile “As American as Mom and Apple Pie” make it into our jargon as an unassailable expression of national ethos? A pledge of allegiance of sorts. Some world views even have insisted that words like “God” and “Baseball” be included in the slogan which makes it a real mouthful, intellectually and syllabically.

Best guess? “For Mom and apple pie” was supposedly a stock answer given by American GI’s entering World War II whenever asked why they were going to war. But, don’t quote me.

By the way, my mom was not terribly fond of making homemade apple pies (cherry was her forte). That did not detract in the least from her innate skills as a mother or cook.

APPLE PIE

Dough (Pâte Fine Sucrée)
2 egg yolks
6 T ice water

2 1/2 C all purpose flour
1/4 t salt
3 T granulated white sugar
2 sticks unsalted butter, chilled, and cut into 1″ bits

Filling
6 large tart apples, peeled, cored, and sliced about 1/4″ thick
1/2 C granulated white sugar
1/4 C light brown sugar
1 lemon, zested
1 T lemon juice
3/4 t ground cinnamon
1/4 t freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 t sea salt
2 T flour

2 T unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1 egg, beaten with 1 T water (egg wash)

Gently whisk the yolk with the water until it is well blended.

Place the flour, salt, and sugar in a food processor and pulse until combined. Add the butter and process until the mixture resembles coarse meal, about 10-15 seconds. Pour water and yolk mixture through the feed tube until the dough just holds together when pinched. If necessary, add more water. Do not process more than 30 seconds. Knead the dough for less than one minute and your work surface and then gather into a ball.

(Alternatively, place the flour, salt, and sugar in a bowl and combine. Add the butter and work with your hands, mashing it through your fingers to have everything blend together. It will form into small lumps or a cornmeal like consistency after 1 or 2 minutes. Pour the yolk mixture into the bowl and mix vigorously with your fingers until all the ingredients are assembled together into a ball.)

Divide the dough in half, flattening each half into a thick disk, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for at least one hour before using. This will chill the butter and relax the gluten in the flour.

After chilling, unwrap and place one dough on a floured surface and sprinkle the top of the dough with flour too. Roll the pastry with light pressure, from the center out. To prevent the pastry from sticking to the counter and to ensure uniform thickness, add some flour and keep lifting up and turning the pastry a quarter turn as you roll from the center of the pastry outwards. Turn the dough over once or twice during the rolling process until it is about 11″ in diameter and less than 1/4″ thick. Fold the dough in half and gently transfer to a 9″ pie pan by draping it over the rolling pin, then moving it onto the plate and unrolling it. Once in the plate, press the dough firmly into the bottom and sides of the pan. Trim the excess dough to about 1/2″ all around the dish, then tuck it under itself around the edge of the plate. Brush off any excess flour and trim the edges of the pastry to fit the pie pan. Cover with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator.

Then, remove the second dough from the refrigerator and roll it into a 12″ circle. Transfer to a parchment lined baking sheet, cover with plastic wrap, and place in the refrigerator while you prepare the filling.

In a large bowl combine the sliced apples, sugars, lemon juice, zest, ground cinnamon, nutmeg, salt and flour.

Remove the crusts from the refrigerator and allow to sit at room temperature for a few minutes so they can become pliable. Pour the apple filling into the chilled bottom pie crust. Strew the butter pieces over the apple filling. Moisten the edges of the pie shell with a little water and then place the top crust over the apples. Tuck any excess pastry under the bottom crust and then crimp or flute the edges using your fingers. Brush the top with the egg wash and cut slits from the center of the pie out towards the edge of the pie to allow steam to escape. You may wish to cover edge with 2″ strip of foil to prevent excessive browning. Cover the pie with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator to chill while you preheat the oven.

Preheat the oven to 425 F

Place the oven rack at the lowest level and place a baking stone or sheet pan on the rack while it preheats.

Set the pie on the stone or pan. Bake until the crust is brown, juices start to bubble through the slits and the apples feel tender when a sharp knife is inserted through one of the slits—about 45 to 55 minutes.

Remove the pie from the oven and place on a wire rack to cool for about 3 hours before slicing. Resist cutting the pie immediately. Serve warm or at room temperature with vanilla ice cream.