Honeydew Sage Sorbet

I was walking past the fruit section in the market this weekend, when I realized that I was born to make honeydew sorbet. The white melon, about the size of my head, called out, beckoning me to cut it into cubes and feed it to the blender as a sacrifice to the ice cream gods.

Since we both seemed destined for this end, I obliged the melon, taking it under my arm and whisking it away to my kitchen where it was joined by sugar water and sage. Hopefully my true motivations are not found out: to encourage summer's approach so that I can relax and perhaps, if I am so inspired, make more sorbet...

I have recently learned that honeydew's optimal season is between August and October unless you live in California, but due to the wonders of modern agricultural techniques, I have always seen them as portents of summer. They remedy humidity as efficiently as ducking under a breaker in the middle of July. Honeydew is what summer would taste like if it had a flavor and if I'm not mistaken, it's a staple of fairy food.

Nothing warranted a refreshing melon as much as this weekend did with its 90% humidity and on again off again showers to ensure that you couldn't make solid plans. So while the little fan in my room tried to help, I turned to the surest method I know: my ice cream maker.

This is my third foray into the land of frozen heaven and each time, I feel more daring and more excited. It has yet to get old. However, I had never made sorbet before and learned that after purchasing the honeydew and nothing else, I was in possession of all the ingredients.

To begin, I added 1 cup of cold water to a bowl and then added 1 cup of sugar, 1/8 tsp salt and a little less than 1/4 cup light/dark corn syrup (this is to soften the sorbet apparently). I then turned my attention to the melon, peeling it and cutting it into chunks to put in the blender.

I added the chunks in batches and the entire melon yielded about 5 cups. However, I made sure to set aside (before I added it to the blender) 1/2 cup of finely chopped honeydew to add for flavor at the end. Feeling daring, I decided to add three leaves of fresh sage, which I crumpled in my hands to make into tiny flakes.

The sage complemented the honeydew very well, adding a delightful suprise in texture and taste as your gustatory receptors enjoyed the honeydew. I put the mixture, which resembled pea soup before it was frozen, in the refridgerator for a few hours so that it was cool when I put in the ice cream maker.

I then poured the mixture into the ice cream bowl and put the mixer on stir speed 1 for about 5 minutes. This froze much faster than ice cream partly due to the ingredients and partly due to the volume (slightly less than usual). The sorbet needs to sit in the freezer for a few hours until it is the proper consistency.

On my ride home today from the lab, wading through people in the east thirties, and then inserting myself into a rush hour F train, I used the image of my honeydew sage sorbet as a coping mechanism. No matter how many sweaty bodies crammed into the car or how many impatient people knocked in to me, I just pictured the soft, green sorbet and I survived.

Orange Blossom Macarons with Buttercream Frosting

Another macaron post, but in my defense,  this time I was held hostage by a group of ravenous beasts, determined to extract all the inspiration I had out of me in the form of cookies. To quell their madness in the interest of self-preservation,  I not only made them orange blossom macarons with buttercream frosting, I taught them how to do it themselves so that in the future, an unsuspecting chef might be spared the trauma that I suffered at their hands.

Once the cookies were assembled, they decided that their loot was sufficient and sent me on my way through the blistering heat of the city with only five macarons to my name.

Nina, Alexi and Nika (me)

Alright, in actuality, I had a play-date today with three friends, Alexi, Amelia and Nina. Our plan was to watch as many Sherlock (BBC) episodes that we could cram into an inconsiderately busy Sunday and make macarons.

These are by far my highest demand cookies and I plan on selling them in the near future. Macarons go for $3.00 in some posh bakeries and so if I sell them for a little less than that, medical school is covered!

My future business plan aside, I packed up my entire kitchen into my Norwegian day pack (my leather backpack that has that logo imprinted on the flap) and trudged nearly a mile to my friend's house.

I was extremely nervous about using an unfamiliar kitchen but as it turns out, their stove is much better than mine and they have a copper bowl for mixing egg whites. I am completely ignorant about the chemistry behind that, but the meringue certainly looked beautiful juxtaposed to the metal.

Nina and Amelia sifted the almond flour and the confectioner's sugar together while I separated the eggs. After whipping the eggs until they formed peaks, I added 1 1/4 tsp of orange blossom water and a few drops of red food dye (this made the cookies slightly pinker than I was anticipating, but they became more orange in the oven much to my delight).

Amelia and Alexi

The macaronage (incorporating the dry and wet ingredients) was next and I deflated the egg whites while trying to find the perfect consistency. My pastry bag was a big hit and Alexi filled it up so that I could, as I mistakenly said "pipette the cookies onto the tins."

That Freudian slip was quickly followed by my realization at how much time I spend in the lab at NYU. "We pipe the cookies," I reminded myself out-loud.

I continued to squeeze them out of the pastry bag until my entire arm was covered in macaron batter, which my friends promptly scraped from the bowl and ate (not recommended by the way). Each girl rapped a tin on the counter to expel any lingering bubbles and then we proceeded to poke the stubborn bubbles with fork prongs. Good thing none of us are perfectionists (ahem).

We left in search of lunch and came back an hour later to find that the macarons had grown perfect skins (thickened coats), which are ideal to push the air bubbles out of the feet instead of exploding the tops of the shells. We put them in the oven at 300 F for 18 minutes and went to watch Sherlock, which is possibly the best show to have ever existed.

To my ever increasing delight, every single macaron was perfect. You heard me. 100% perfection. They were smooth, footed, and tasting of orange blossoms. There is nothing as satisfying as mastering (well kind of) what is perhaps the most persnickety cookie in existence.

I know that this success does not guarantee a future success rate of 100% but I would like to call this day, May 20th, VM day (Macaron Victory Day). Gotta get my kicks in somewhere.

Nika and Nina

We also made buttercream frosting for the perfect Creamsicle flavors using 1 cup of unsalted butter and about a bag of confectioner's sugar. The hand mixer was not equipped to deal with this level of intensity, so we resorted to using a potato masher, which was surprisingly efficient and undoubtedly cathartic for Amelia.

It was wonderful to enjoy a Sunday afternoon with three lovely ladies, making cookies, going to a street fair and watching hours of brilliant dialogue. Just like Watson came to Sherlock even though he was told that it might be dangerous, when I told my friends that there might be danger involved in the macaron making, they all showed up. Both casts of characters, I might mention, were not intimidated by the enormity of their tasks.

Chocolate Chip Orange Scones and Cardamom Lassis

I was sick all last week and Mother's Day seemed so far in advance that I hadn't even begun to think about it. On Saturday, I sat in solitude trying to come up with an idea that rivaled my past endeavors. Luckily, my new love of baking and my mother's love of my baking came to mind and I decided to make her breakfast, not in bed, but at the table filled with sunshine and the sounds of little ones laughing as they played outside. Welcome back spring, you were missed.

My cousin, Harper, slept over and he helped me not only bake the food, but do the dishes because as he said it "Anything to make the scones come faster!" At least someone had his priorities straight. I made scones from the Rose Bakery cookbook and cardamom lassis from food and wine's website. For the scones (the recipe makes about 24 or so), I added 3 1/3 cups of flour to a large mixing bowl.

I added 2 "heaping" tbs baking powder, 1 tsp salt and 2 tbs sugar. Harper mixed this all together and then I kneaded in 1/2 cup (one stick) of unsalted butter. He then poured in exactly 1 1/4 cups of milk, and asked me why I added the extra 1/4 cup, it seemed so arbitrary.

After explaining the fragile chemistry of scone making, I used a fork to blend the flour mixture with the milk and then I kneaded it with my hands until it was completely incorporated.

At this point I also added some chocolate chips and the zest of one orange. You can roll the dough out and then cut scones with cookie cutters but I just spooned them out onto a buttered tin like I would cookies. I glazed each scone with a beaten egg and put them in the oven at 400 F for 15 minutes (until golden on top).

While the scone baked, I started on the cardamom lassis, which I first had at Saltie, an amazing sandwich shop in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

I added 1 quart of yogurt to a blender along with 7 tbs sugar, 1 tsp ground cardamom and 4 ice cubes. Blend this until it's frothy and keep in the fridge until you're ready to serve. We set the table and invited my mom in to see her present. Mother's Day accomplished.

After a relatively unproductive weekend with regards to work, it was very satisfying to successfully do something...even if it was making breakfast.