Tag Archives: chocolate

Chocolate-Dipped Lime Shortbread

8 Dec

It seems somehow unbelievable, but up until last year, I had never before heard of a holiday cookie exchange.  Then I was invited to one, and it was like someone had thrown open the door to a whole new world of crisp, buttery delights.  If you’ve never heard of a cookie exchange either, the basics are thus:

-You make a bunch of cookies.

-Other people make a bunch of cookies.

-You and those other people gather at a predetermined location to exchange a handful of each cookie in attendance.

-You leave with as many cookies as you came with, only now your cookies are made up of a glorious mix of several different types of cookies.

And I went most of my life without knowing about this magnificent event?  Unfathomable.  Thankfully, this year I was invited to yet another cookie exchange, and it seems as though we somehow lucked into the greatest, most creative group of cookie makers for which anyone could ever hope.  When we left that cookie exchange, we had been blessed with extra-spicy ginger cookies, peanut butter Nutella cookies (how I’ve never been exposed to those little miracles before, I’ll never know), tiny little pecan pies, anise butter cookies, and something called an espresso crunch bar that I eventually had to get rid of after I found myself unable to resist its charms for the tenth time in one evening, leading me to stand in front of it whilst pointing angrily and yelling in a stern voice, “You are not the boss of me!”

A success all around, it seems.

Of course, in order to partake in a cookie exchange, one must bring along a selection of cookies, and I dutifully did my part.  I’ve always been a big fan of shortbreads that have been heightened with a bit of citrus, so my choice of cookie was easily made.  As an added bonus, choosing to shape the dough into logs and cut them later made for a great, simple method of breaking up my cookie preparation into a couple of laid-back evenings.  One night I made the dough and shaped it, the next night I baked the cookies.  The morning of the cookie exchange, I dipped the cookies in just a bit of melted chocolate, giving them a touch of something extra.  It might be debatable if we really need to add extras during the holiday cookie season, but why go down that road?  Make some cookies, then exchange them, gift them, or, if you are brave, leave them in your house to be enjoyed over the remaining weeks.  Okay, days.  Okay, day, singular.  You know what?  Just send the cookies to work with your spouse.  It’s safer that way.

Chocolate-Dipped Lime Shortbread

Keen eyes may notice that these pictures show two types of shortbread.  Because the cookie exchange I attended require each person to make 7 dozen cookies, and this recipe makes 4 dozen cookies, I doubled the recipe and made one batch of lime shortbread and one batch of ginger shortbread.  To make ginger shortbread, simply add two tablespoons of finely chopped candied ginger in place of the two tablespoons of lime zest.

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup powdered sugar

1 egg yolk

2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour

½ cup cornstarch

2 tablespoons finely grated lime zest

5 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped into smallish chunks

In a large bowl, beat together the butter and powdered sugar until light and fluffy.  Add the egg yolk and blend well.  Add the flour and cornstarch and beat until well mixed.  Add lime zest and mix until combined.

Dive the dough into 2 batches.  Shape each batch into a log roughly 12 inches long.  Wrap each log tightly in plastic wrap, then refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or until firm (tightly wrapped, dough can be left refrigerated for up to a week).

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Cut dough into ¼-inch slices.  Bake the cookies on parchment-lined baking sheets for 10 to 13 minutes, or until the cookies are mostly set in the middle and just starting to turn light golden brown at the edges.  Prick tops of cookies with a fork (to allow steam to escape and ensure a crisp cookie), then remove to a wire rack to cool completely.

When cookies have cooled, heat the chocolate on top of a double boiler until it is smooth and glossy.  Alternately, you can melt the chocolate in the microwave by heating the chocolate in a microwave-safe bowl in 20-second increments, stirring in between each session, until the chocolate is mostly melted.  Let the chocolate sit for a minute or so to melt completely, then stir to make it smooth.

Line several baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.  Dip each cookie into the melted chocolate, coating it halfway.  I ended up dipping each cookie by tipping the top into the chocolate and leaving the bottom mostly uncovered, because I found this method to be the easiest.  Place each dipped cookie on the parchment paper and allow to the chocolate to harden completely before packing up or transporting.

Makes 4 dozen cookies.

Pear and Chocolate Bread Pudding

21 Nov

Do you believe that the subconscious can really drive one’s actions?  That inclinations deep inside you can dictate your unwitting behavior?  Sometimes I really do wonder, most pointedly because lately, completely contrary to what had previously passed as the norm around here, I have been leaving loaves of delicious, crusty bread out on the counter, allowing them to become stale beyond the limits of standard consumption.  But then, stale and slightly dry, what do they then magically transform into?  Perfect bread for bread pudding, that’s what.

I will eat bread pudding in any form.  Made with brioche, a baguette, or, as is the standard at the legendary Heathman Restaurant and Bar, lightly drizzled with warm caramel sauce, I do not believe that there is a bread pudding I would not eat, love, and cherish to the very end.  (Except perhaps for that one horrifying recipe I once saw that made bread pudding with Krispy Kreme doughnuts, sweetened condensed milk, and a couple of tins of fruit cocktail.  No.  Just no.)

My preferred bread pudding is decidedly mellow on the sweetness front, but high on soft bites of custardy bread with lightly crisp edges.  Sure, I’ve made highly sweetened bread pudding before, but that sweetness seemed awfully fitting in order to offset the decidedly puckery effects of fresh rhubarb.  Though I loved that bread pudding more than I think I could ever be able to fully explain (the self-forming sauce it made was, in a word, magical), I think I have finally come up with another bread pudding that just might have a fighting chance of dethroning the reigning rhubarb champ.

Studded with chunks of pear, streaked with bittersweet chocolate, and only lightly sweetened with a dark brown sugar custard, this is a bread pudding that comforts without overwhelming the senses.  With a snap of pear and a rich hit of chocolate in each bite, you are able to savor each forkful without wondering if you will ever be able to walk again, button your trousers again, survive without supplemental insulin again.  I am not sure how it is possible, but this dessert manages to be somehow both subtle and attention-commanding at the same time.  It’s a rare feat, but surely one you won’t forget or regret.

Pear and Chocolate Bread Pudding

1 French baguette, cut or torn into 1-inch chunks and allowed to become slightly stale, or toasted very lightly to dry them out just a tad (you should have about 5 cups of bread chunks total)

1 pear, peeled, cored, and chopped into ½-inch chunks

½ cup coarsely chopped bittersweet chocolate chunks

3 large eggs, lightly beaten

2 cups milk

¼ cup dark brown sugar

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

pinch of cinnamon

pinch of nutmeg

pinch of salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Lightly butter a 13” x 8” baking dish and set aside.

In the buttered baking dish, combine the bread chunks, pear chunks, and chopped chocolate.

In a medium pot set over low heat, combine the milk and sugar and whisk together until the sugar has dissolved.  Slowly pour in the beaten eggs, whisking as you pour.  Add the vanilla, pinch of cinnamon, and pinch of salt.  The heat should stay on low, and the mixture should never come close to boiling.

Remove the pot from the heat.  Carefully pour the heated milk mixture over the bread and pear mixture, being sure to coat and soak every piece of bread.  If necessary, lightly press the bread chunks down with the back of a spoon, coaxing the bread into the milk mixture in the bottom of the baking dish.

Tightly cover the dish with foil and bake for 30 minutes.  Remove the foil, then bake for an additional 10-20 minutes, until the bread is puffed up with golden edges, but the middle of the bread pudding is moist and the custard has been absorbed.

Flourless Chocolate Mousse Cloud Cake, the Cake of Plenty

16 Feb

Some people prefer birthday cake, some birthday pie.  I once knew a fellow who, in lieu of a birthday cake, asked for nothing more than a bowl of birthday cake frosting.  My favorite birthday dessert, were I forced to choose, would be the birthday combo-pack, wherein one gets to have a dessert that is very conveniently comprised of several different desserts, like a cornucopia, only filled with baked goods instead of the fruits of one’s harvest.  When I recently offered to make someone a birthday cake of his choice and was informed of his decision (carrot cake with cream cheese frosting), my first response was, “Really?  Just carrot cake?  What about a chocolate marble cake, because it has two kinds of cake in one?  Or a black bottom cake, because it’s a cake with a cheesecake filling?  Or how about two cakes?  Wouldn’t you like to have two cakes for your birthday?”

To most people, this unstoppable desire to make more work for oneself would be viewed as nothing less than ludicrous.  While I can’t argue with that assessment, I can at least justify my actions a little bit by explaining that when I am done making whatever cake or pie that someone has requested for a birthday celebration, I am, most of the time, also invited to eat whatever I have made, and therefore benefiting from our dessert negotiations more than one might initially realize.

So when it came time to prepare a birthday dessert for a beloved auntie who made the very simple request of having something that contained both chocolate and whipped cream, how could I resist the urge to fulfill her birthday cake wish many times over?

It started with the chocolate cloud cake from Nigella Lawson’s Nigella Bites.  The chocolate cloud is a flourless cake, made sturdy with stiffly whipped egg whites gently folded into a rich and chocolaty batter.

The cake rises wonderfully in the oven, then delicately deflates as it cools, leaving a perfect indentation on top in which to place whatever one chooses.  In this case, a creamy, bittersweet chocolate mousse is smoothed into the crater.

 

A simple dollop of whipped cream would, of course, accompany this cake very nicely, but, at this point, why limit the cake to one type of whipped cream?  With just a few more ingredients and in almost no time at all, three flavors of whipped cream can be coaxed into soft peaks and then piled high into individual bowls, inviting the cake to be interpreted three different ways.

The whipped cream variations that made company with this particular cake were flavored with espresso, peppermint, and classic vanilla, and, while they were perfectly acceptable accompaniments, I see no reason to stop at those flavors.  I almost tried out a ginger whipped cream, but the peppermint won out at the last minute.  If you have any Frangelico on hand, a little glug into the chilled cream, pre-whipping, would produce a fantastic hazelnut whipped cream (the same goes for adding a bit of Framboise to make a raspberry whipped cream, or just adding a bit of bourbon if you’re looking for a great kick of flavor with a bit less sweetness).

Perhaps the most enjoyable aspect of this dessert, however, comes not in its final form.  When you’re cooking with such vast quantities of chocolate, including a simple mousse that skips the standard addition of raw eggs, you are left with several cooking tools that are amenable to being cleaned off with the help of others, and not necessarily by way of the sink.  In particular, when it comes to cleaning chocolate anything off of mostly anything, in my house at least, you don’t have to go far to find yourself an assistant who is willing to help out in any way he can.

Chocolate Cloud Cake

From Nigella Bites

9 0z bittersweet chocolate

1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened

6 eggs: 2 whole, 4 separated

1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon of sugar

9-inch springform cake pan

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  Line the bottom of the cake pan with baking parchment.

Melt the chocolate in either a double boiler or in the microwave, and then let the butter melt in the warm chocolate.

Beat the 2 whole eggs and 4 egg yolks with 1/3 cup of the sugar, then gently add in the chocolate/butter mixture.

In another bowl, whisk the 4 egg whites until foamy, then gradually add the remaining sugar and whisk until the whites hold their shape but are not too stiff.  Lighten the chocolate mixture with a dollop of egg whites, and then fold in the rest of the whites.  Pour into the prepared pan and bake for 35-40 minutes, or until the cake is risen and cracked and the center is no longer wobbly.  Cool the cake in its pan on a wire rack.  The middle will sink as it cools.

Chocolate Mousse

Adapted from The America’s Test Kitchen Family Baking Book

1 teaspoon cornstarch

1 & 1/4 cups heavy cream, chilled

2 tablespoons sugar

2 tablespoons Dutch-processed cocoa powder

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 teaspoon instant espresso powder

pinch salt

8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled

In a small saucepan, slowly whisk together the cornstarch and 1/4 cup of heavy cream over very low heat.  When the cornstarch has mostly dissolved (this should take under 1 minute), slowly whisk in another 1/4 cup of cream, the sugar, cocoa, vanilla extract, espresso, and salt.  Stir constantly until the sugar dissolves (about 1 minute).

Transfer the mixture to a medium bowl and stir in the melted chocolate.  Place the bowl in the refrigerator or freezer, stirring every minute or so, until the filling cools to room temperature and is slightly thickened, about 5 minutes.

Whip the remaining 3/4 cup of cream with an electric mixer on medium low speed until frothy, about 1 minute.  Increase the mixer speed to high and continue to whip until the cream forms soft peaks, 1 to 3 minutes.  Gently fold the whipped cream into the cooled chocolate filling until just combined.

Assembling the Cake

When the cake has cooled, gently pour the chocolate mousse into the crater that has formed in the center of the cake.  Smooth the mousse as much as possible, then set chocolate mousse cake in the refrigerator until the entire thing has set, anywhere from 2-3 hours (the cake can, of course, be left in the refrigerator overnight, though after the top of the mousse has set it would be a good idea to cover the top of the cake with a sheet of plastic wrap).

Before serving, run a thin knife around the edge of the cake, gently separating it from the sides of the springform pan.  If, when unlocking and removing the springform’s sides, the cake loses a few crumbs and appears a bit crackly, do not despair.  One of the many charms of this cake is its rustic appearance, as it belies the incredible smoothness held within.

Top cake with whipped cream of your choice, by the slice or in the cake’s entirety.

You can make all three of the following whipped creams by buying one pint of heavy whipping cream and dividing it into thirds.

Vanilla Whipped Cream

2/3 cup heavy cream

scant 1 teaspoon vanilla extraxt

2 tablespoons confectioners’ cugar

Mocha Whipped Cream

2/3 cup heavy cream

2 teaspoons espresso powder

2 tablespoons confectioner’s sugar

2 teaspoons unsweetened cocoa powder

Peppermint Whipped Cream

2/3 cup heavy cream

2 tablespoons confectioners sugar

1/4 teaspoon peppermint extract

Whip cream in a mixing bowl with an electric mixer or whisk until cream begins to thicken.  Add the sugar and flavorings and continue to whip until stiff peaks just begin to form.