This was dessert when Fussellette came to dinner last week.
Started first with a meringue (my recipe is from The Joy of Cooking, but you can see a chocolate version here).
We plopped on the meringue some raspberry ice cream (see post here, but minus the vinegar). Then we topped it with whipped cream, melted chocolate, and fresh blackberries. Sweet and simple.
Winter is a time for cooking comfort food. Things are warm, spicy, and, usually, on the thick, rich, and heavy side.
Why not try something a little different? How about winter flavours with a lighter twist?
We served these gelled desserts after Christmas dinner, but they would be a great finish to any winter meal. I don’t have too many pictures of the process, because, well, it was Christmas and I was busy doing other things. But it’s a simple idea. It comes from the Holiday 2011 issue of LCBO’s Food & Drink Magazine.
In a small pot, pour 1/4 cup apple cider and sprinkle it with 1 envelope unflavoured gelatin. Cook that over low heat, stirring all the while, until the gelatin has completely liquefied. Set that aside for a spell, and don’t fret if the gelatin starts to set while it’s waiting.
In a larger pot, stir together 2 3/4 cups apple cider, a cinnamon stick, one 1/4″ thick slice of fresh ginger, 10 black peppercorns, and 1/2 teaspoon corriander seeds. Bring that mixture to a boil, then turn it down to medium and simmer it for 10 minutes or so, until the mixture is spiced and reduced down to 2 cups.
Pour the spiced cider mixture through a sieve into the pot with the gelatin and stir until it’s all combined. Pour into four little cups (we used some demitasses we had in the basement), and stick a cinnamon stick into each one. Chill for 2 hours, or until set.
To serve, garnish with whipped cream mixed with maple syrup and a dash of ground cardamom or garam masala.
This is how Fussellette got her name.
She was sitting in the MUGS room with the Pie, talking about, of all things, pie (we don’t call him that because he’s sweet and flaky, after all). They were discussing the merits of ice cream versus whipped cream as a topping.
Fussellette, a native Newfoundlander, mentioned that growing up, she had always had Fussell’s on her pies and desserts.
The Pie’s first reaction was along the lines of, “what on earth are you talking about? Fussell’s?”
I’ve never heard of it either. So Fussellette bought us some.
Apparently it’s a sterilized thick cream in a can, a Newfoundland staple. Ostensibly it’s from the Golden Butterfly Brand, but on the back you can see it’s distributed by Smucker’s, which is part of Nestlé. Globalization …
It’s rather clotted and yellowish, but tastes just like what it is, thickened cream.
We plopped it on our pie. It was good.
This is another recipe I borrowed from Caroline over at The Wanna be Country Girl, who in turn got it from David Leibovitz, one of my favourite chefs. I may have borrowed a few of his recipes myself on a few occasions.
Fall is the time for apples and pears, and delicate pears lend themselves well to a gentle poaching. So cut up 4 firm, ripe pears. These are Bartletts, I think — I got them at Costco. They could be Anjou. There was a big pile and they were all messed around, and I’m not that good at fruit identification. Quarter, core, and peel the pear pieces and plop them in a large saucepan.
Slide in 1 sliced lemon, 2 teaspoons vanilla extract, and 1 1/3 cups granulated sugar. Pour 1 quart (1 litre) water over the fruit.
Cut a square of parchment paper, fold it into quarters, and cut a hole from the centre.
So when it’s unfolded you have a hole in the middle. This will let the steam out.
Tuck the parchment paper into the saucepan and bring the fruit to a simmer for 25 minutes.
Then I removed the fruit to cool slightly and turned up the heat on the remaining liquid to reduce it to a syrup.
As we had clafoutis for dessert that night, we let the pears cool and had them for breakfast the next day, with their own syrup and a daub of whipped cream.
Amazing on top of pancakes! Try the pears in sandwiches and salads, too.
Not only do the Pie and il Principe share a birthday, but I’ll have you know that Cait’s birthday is only four days later. And then Jiss’ birthday is only a scant five days after that. Because we were heading back to Ottawa for a visit at the beginning of the month, we decided to postpone our birthday celebrations until we got there so that Cait and Jiss could share in the fun.
So, for my husband on his birthday and my best friend on her birthday, and my husband’s friend’s spouse on HER birthday, I made them this fantastic confection, which comes out of our favourite cookbook of all time, Baked.
You can read the recipe online here, here, or here. But you should really buy the book. The pictures are glorious and the authors explain everything so well.
This recipe involves caramel, chocolate, and salt. Yes, SALT. I rarely use salt in baking but this one made it all worth it. If you can get your hands on fleur de sel, all the better, but you can use sea salt as a substitute if necessary. It’s also worth noting that this cake takes many steps, and you can save time by making things like the caramel the day before and putting it in the fridge.
At least it tasted good.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAITY!
Now that I have a springform pan, I have taken it upon myself to perfect cheesecakes. This cool no-cook cheese confection is a modified version of one by Gordon Ramsay and it’s dee-lish.
Because it’s a British recipe, I’m afraid that even with my modifications it’s all still in metric. This is where having a kitchen scale comes in mighty handy. Of course, because it’s a no-cook recipe, you needn’t fret if your conversions aren’t exactly accurate.
First, crush up about 150g cookies. I used chocolate wafers, but graham crackers or digestive biscuits also work well. You can even buy cookie crumbs pre-crushed in a box.
Mix those with about 50g melted butter.
With a glass or your fingers, flatten the crumbs into the bottom of a 20cm springform pan (mine was 25 cm so my cake is a little shorter and wider than yours might be). Chuck that in the fridge to chill.
Now plop about 340g fresh blackberries (that was what was in the package for me) in a pot with a dash of sugar and a dash of water or juice. Add the juice and zest from half a lemon to that as well. Cook on medium-high heat, stirring often, until it’s all bubbly and saucy. Scoop out a bit of the juice and make a slurry with a small amount of corn starch. Add that back in and let it come to a boil. Remove from the heat and let cool completely. Chuck it in the fridge to make it extra cool and thick.
Whip up 500mL whipping cream in a chilled bowl.
In a separate bowl, cream together 500g soft cream cheese, a splash of vanilla extract, the zest and peel of half a lemon (nice use of a whole lemon there, waste-not), and 200g sour cream or crème fraîche. The warmer your cream cheese is, the less lumpy it will be, but be careful not to let it melt if you put it in the microwave.
Fold the whipped cream into the cream cheese mixture. Keep this stuff cool until you need it, but don’t chill it.
Spoon or pipe a layer of the cream cheese mixture over the crumb base.
Spoon on some of your blackberry sauce and use a skewer or flat knife to swirl it around.
Add another layer of cheese, and plop the remaining fruit sauce on top. Swirly swirly swirly. If your cake pan is smaller and your cake taller, you could probably try for three layers of cheese with swirlies in-between.
Refrigerate the cake for at least 5 hoursand keep it refrigerated when you’re not eating it.
Spring it from the springform!
We only had it in the fridge for probably 3 hours before we ate it, so you can see it was a little runny in the centre.
But still oh so good! We all had seconds.
When I made Chel and Invis’ ivy vanilla wedding cake, I ended up with a lot of leftover ingredients.
For one thing, I had an enormous amount of actual cake itself, left from when I cut the rounded tops off the tiers. I had enough to create a whole other cake if I so desired. I had 12 egg yolks left from separating the whites. And I bought wayyy too much whipping cream.
I don’t know about you, but that screams TRIFLE to me. A LOT of trifle. So I sent out an email to ten of my nearest and dearest:
You guys busy Sunday night?
I have leftover bits from the wedding cake and too much whipping cream and a bunch of yolks waiting to be made into custard, so I was thinking I’d make a trifle.
HOWEVER,
I can’t make said trifle unless I have plenty of people to eat it, because it’s going to be huge. Spouses and significant others are welcome.
Bell central, 8PMish, SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY?
a
Stef wrote back not five minutes later:
TRIFLE I LOVE TRIFLE. You absolutely will not need to worry about the number of attendees required for consumption. I think I have a special funnel/hose device specifically designed for consuming trifle. When I was a child, Dad would park outside events at the church and we’d decide to go in based on how many different trifles I could smell. I can tell you exactly how tipsy a tipsy trifle is from 40 yards (+/- 10 proof). I suspect trifle is responsible for any love of jesus I may have; during my churchgoing days as much of 17% of my body weight was derived from eating trifles on feast days, high holies, birthdays, vestry meetings, and Sundays.
After that, it was easy to get a “yes” from every invitee, even if some of them didn’t know what trifle was. Kristopf and his lady friend even said they would show up “a trifle early.” Ha.
If you don’t know what trifle is, just click the Wikipedia hyperlink above where I talk about screaming trifle. Because it’s a British invention, I figured I should go to the BBC website for a real proper custard recipe. I modified it, of course.
So I have my 12 egg yolks. The recipe calls for 8 but this makes it extra custard-y. Add to that 2oz granulated sugar and 4 teaspoons corn starch.
Whisk that silly. Leave it to come to room temperature.
In a large saucepan, bring a large amount of dairy product (1250mL) to a simmer on low heat. I used half whipping cream and half milk.
Pour that hot milk into your yolks, a little at a time, whisking all the while. You don’t want the yolks to curdle or cook, so this is why it’s crucial that they are warmed up gradually.
Pour that back into the pot and bring to a simmer again, stirring with a wooden spoon, until thickened. Then you can remove that from the heat and allow it to cool completely.
While that’s cooling, you can prepare your other ingredients. Here I washed and sliced 2 pints each fresh raspberries and strawberries.
I also had to improvise a trifle bowl, because my mother doesn’t own one either. These jars, however, will do. They used to hold battery acid. Now they house random collections of sea-related items. Don’t worry, I washed the jar first.
When your custard is cool, get everything else you need handy. I whipped up 500mL whipping cream, adding a bit of sugar and some maple extract. I pulled down the brandy from the liquor cabinet. Trifle is traditionally made with sweet sherry but we were out. I also heated up a 750mL jar of raspberry jam in the microwave until it was nice and runny.
Now we begin.
Start by crumbling a layer of your cake in the bottom of your bowl (or jar). Traditional trifle uses sponge cake, but slightly stale wedding cake tops work just peachy.
Drizzle about an ounce of brandy over that. You can use juice or soda instead of booze, but you need liquid to make the cake mushy. Mushy is key.
Then some jam.
Then custard, whipped cream, and fruit.
Repeat that again.
And again. Make sure to use all your ingredients. No need to measure. Top with extra fruit.
Look at those lovely layers.
Chill that in the refrigerator for a few hours until your trifle party arrives.
Shall we trifle? As you can see, Stef was first at the jar. And last.
Let’s trifle with some trifle.
And there was absolutely NONE left when we were done.
Well.
I should know by now that experimenting with recipes before a dinner party is not a good idea. But who else can I experiment on but my hapless dinner guests?
My goal was a dense, gooey, flourless chocolate cake, maybe with a glossy dark chocolate ganache poured over top. I thought I had found the ideal recipe here. It had four simple ingredients and no-nonsense instructions. It even gave me the opportunity to use my kitchen scale, which had long sat unused. Working in metric is such fun.
I’ll give you the recipe here, and then you can see for yourself how things went horribly wrong.
Preheat your oven to 180°C (that’s about 350°F for those of you who don’t have both measures on your ovens). Grease (with lots and lots of butter) a 22cm/9″ cake pan and set that aside.
Measure yourself out 250g dark chocolate and chop that sucker into pieces.
Melt that in a double boiler with 100g butter until smooth. Remove from the heat.
Separate 4 large eggs. Sift 175g icing sugar into a bowl, add the 4 yolks, and whisk until pale and creamy.
Fold the melted chocolate into the egg mixture.
In yet another bowl, whisk the 4 egg whites until soft peaks form.
Using a metal spoon, gradually fold the whites into the chocolate mixture.
Pour the mixture into the greased pan. Mine nearly filled it, so I put a pizza pan underneath to catch any spills. I needn’t have worried, it turns out.
Bake for about 30 minutes, until the surface begins to crack but the centre is still gooey.
Alas, though the cake baked up perfectly and smelled divine, it wouldn’t come out of the pan, no sir. Not at all. I don’t even think lining the pan with parchment paper would have helped.
This is it after it cooled.
I ended up with warm, gooey, dense chocolate cake bits in a pile on a plate.
With three hours until the dinner guests arrived, the Pie said, “Well, you have time to make another cake.”
I gave him a dark look.
“Or,” he says, backtracking, “you could make a trifle?”
Huzzah! Dessert is saved! Another floor pizza crisis averted.
Of course, having never made trifle in my life (I save that duty for my mother-in-law, because Mrs. Nice does it so well), I do not own a trifle bowl. Not to worry, I will improvise. Though I wouldn’t mind getting a trifle bowl someday, hint, hint …
Trifle is all about the layers. The traditional version is a sponge cake, usually soaked with some form of alcohol, like brandy or sherry, topped with fruit, custard, and whipping cream in alternating layers. In a straight-sided container like a trifle bowl you can see all the layers and the effect is quite pretty.
This being a chocolate cake, I thought the custard would be inappropriate. If I had more time, I would have made chocolate pudding as a substitute for the custard, but I didn’t have the time needed for the pudding to set. Instead, I opted for a strawberry fruit sauce with drizzled melted chocolate between the layers of whipped cream, and topped with fresh raspberries. I drizzled a wee bit of Grand Marnier over the cake and let that sink in.
When I made the fruit sauce I added a little bit of corn starch just so it would thicken, and then I made sure to let it cool.
I added butter to the melted chocolate so that when it cooled it wouldn’t be as hard as it was originally.
I also added a wee bit of cream of tartar to my whipped cream so that it would hold its shape better while chilling in the refrigerator.
Then I did my layering …
Gooey cake. Drizzled chocolate. Strawberry goodness. Whipped cream. Repeat.
Drop a handful or two of fresh raspberries on top and drizzle the remaining chocolate all over and we’re set.
The layering doesn’t look as pretty from the side but we have to sacrifice aesthetics sometimes. Chill that sucker for a couple hours then feed it to your unsuspecting dinner guests with a sob story about your failed dessert.
This simple, zesty cobbler has a hint of citrus that takes it from ordinary to extraordinary, and is wicked easy to make. The recipe, taken from the O Magazine Cookbook, calls for orange zest, but I substituted it for lime, because that’s what I had on hand. 
I also used flash-frozen cranberries instead of fresh, and they worked out just fine.
Preheat your oven to 350°F.
In a large bowl, beat together 6 tablespoons softened butter and 1/2 cup granulated sugar until smooth and creamy. 
Beat in 2 eggs, one at a time, until well blended.
Add in 1 teaspoon freshly grated orange (or lime) zest and 1 teaspoon vanilla extract.
Add in 1 cup all-purpose flour and 1 teaspoon baking powder and beat until fully blended. 
Set that aside for a wee bit.
In a 2-quart shallow glass or ceramic baking dish, pour in 6 cups cranberries.
Sprinkle 1 teaspoon orange zest (or lime zest) on top. Give it a bit of a stir.
Spread over this 1 1/4 cups granulated sugar and 1 cup cranberry juice.
Spoon the topping batter over the cranberry mixture by heaping spoonfuls. 
Feel free to spread it and flatten it a bit if you like.
Bake for 40-60 minutes (depending on your oven), or until the filling is bubbly around the edges and the topping is brown. Cool completely on a wire rack.
Serve warm or at room temperature with whipped or ice cream.
I’m back in St. John’s for a brief visit. How I missed my kitchen!
The Pie and I do love our waffles. They’re not just a breakfast food, either. They also make a good base for many savoury dishes. Feel free to add things like frozen fruit or herbs and cheese to your mix. And you can top them with anything: honey, whipped cream, fresh or frozen fruit, maple syrup, bacon …
The electric waffle iron has made making waffles so much easier. My brothers and I got this one for my mother for Mother’s Day back in the 1990s, and when I moved to St. John’s I took it with me. 
Once you have properly seasoned your waffle maker (by making a couple batches of super buttery waffles in it), you will never need to do more than wipe the goo off the outside once in a while, and flick off the crumbs left inside after use.
This recipe comes from the Joy of Cooking (of course). The instructions claim that the recipe makes 6 waffles, but in our little iron it’s more like 12. Just be prepared to eat lots of waffle-y goodness or halve the recipe. Sure, you can get a decent waffle out of a boxed mix, but really it’s just as easy to make them from scratch.
Preheat your waffle iron. 
You may also want to set a stoneware plate or oven-safe dish in your oven and set it to about 225°F. This is where you will keep your waffles warm while you’re making up the rest of the batch.
In one bowl, mix together 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour, 1/4 teaspoon baking soda, 2 teaspoons baking powder, and 1 tablespoon sugar.
In a second bowl, mix together 3 eggs, 1/2 cup melted butter, and 1 1/2 cups buttermilk.
Make a well in your dry ingredients and pour in your wet ingredients. Whisk that sucker up good.
Pour some mixture into your waffle iron. You don’t want it to fill up completely, because it will expand as it cooks.
Cook until your iron tells you it’s ready. Ours chirps. It’s rather obnoxious. About as obnoxious as making heart-shaped waffles.
While you are cooking your waffles, you might want to toss some frozen blueberries, some lemon juice, and some sugar into a pot to make up a quick fruit sauce.
Now all you have to do is eat them!
