Gnocchi and Basil Sauce and Peach Galettes

                                      

I found this beautiful plate in an antique store in Park Slope called Bob and Judi's Collectibles and decided to give it to my father for his birthday along with a meal served on it. The specifics of the dinner were a surprise, mostly because I couldn't figure out what to make, but also because I wanted to extend the anticipation as long as I could.

                                      

I brought Julia Childs' Mastering the Art of French Cooking (an original copy that my grandmother gave to me when I discovered how much I loved cooking) on the train and thumbed through it trying to find an enticing recipe. Gnocchi has been on my list for a long time and Julia had multiple entries on it, so I decided upon gnocchi with basil sauce and a peach galette for dessert since my dad wished he had one that morning.

On that same train, two tourists completely terrified by the New York City subway system approached me while I waited for the F train. The sign hanging in front of us said Jamaica 179th St., because that's the last stop on the train. I heard them debating whether or not this was the correct train and waited for their approach. Soon enough, the woman came up to me concerned that I might be as nutty as the last person she asked for advice. 

"We don't want to go to Jamaica," she told me with worry in her eyes. "Don't worry," I assured her, explaining what that meant. She still looked confused so I said, "This is an uptown train." This information clearly undid any previous clarification I might have provided. "That means it goes further north into Manhattan." She seemed so lost so I finally asked, "Where is that you are trying to go?" Relieved that we finally spoke the same language, she told me that she was trying to get to 23rd St so I informed her that the F does in fact stop there.

When we got on the train, I continued to leaf through the cookbook, unsure as of what I was going to whip up that night. Frustrated that I couldn't come up with an idea (the gnocchi came to me later), I put the book back in my bag and resigned myself to looking at my reflection in the door across from me. The woman's husband looked up at me from his seat and said, "Done reading already?" I informed him that it was a cookbook and explained that I was trying to think of something to make for my dad's birthday. Thrilled that he could tackle his first challenge since he arrived in the city, he said bright-eyed, "I think you should make him rib-eye steak...unless of course your dad doesn't like that," he finished remembering that he was in New York after all.

Long story kind of short, he told me I could barbeque them and after telling him that we live in an apartment and thus do not have a barbeque he offered several alternative methods of preparing the steak. I told him I didn't think I was qualified yet to make steak and he thought that this was an excellent excuse. "You know, we're not from around here," he said and thanked me as he and his wife departed to find their son who moved from Minnesota to New York, God knows why he wanted to do that, they said.

                                     

Like I mentioned before, I decided upon gnocchi and a simple basil sauce. For the gnocchi I peeled five russet potatoes and placed them in boiling water until they softened. I mashed them and Julia says that you should also put the potatoes through a ricer to get all the lumps out but I don't have one, so I let the lumps be. You should also place the potatoes once mashed back on a burner and put the flame on low for about 2 minutes so you can evaporate any remaining water. 

                                   

While the potatoes are cooking, you need to make the pate choux, which is the flour base you will mix in with the potatoes to get the proper dumpling texture. First melt 6 tbs of butter in 1 cup of water and then add 1/3 tsp pepper, 1 tsp salt and a dash of nutmeg. When the butter has melted, turn off the flame and add 1 cup of flour and 1/2 cup of semolina flour. This needs to be stirred into the butter/water mixture quite quickly. Julia says, "Then beat over moderately high heat for 1 to 2 minutes until mixture leaves the sides of the pan and the spoon, forms a mass, and begins to film the bottom of the pan."

Again, turn off the burner and add 4 eggs one at a time, mixing vigorously with each addition. Add 1/2 cup of a cheese of your choice (I used asiago) grated and finally add the mashed spuds and beat into a homogenous mixture. You should let this cool a bit and then spread semolina out onto parchment or wax paper to form the dumplings. Take a spoonful of dough and roll it in the semolina until it's long and cylindrical, but not too thin. 

Then, cut it into 1 inch sections and press your fork slightly on one side, for the classic gnocchi texture. The more flour the better. You should lay them out on cookie tins so they have a chance to breath (what I didn't do) and then boil a bot of water and throw them in for 90 seconds. Many of mine turned to pasta mush, but I was able to salvage 1/2 for our dinner. 

The basil sauce requires 1 can of tomato sauce, a few fresh basil leaves, a tab of butter, and a few handfuls of grated cheese. It should cook for about 20 minutes (stirring it on and off). Even though the dinner wasn't perfect, it was sweet...gnocchi, I shall return. 

While the gnocchi was relaxing (before I cooked it), I started on the peach galettes, which are open faced, free form tarts that don't require tins. To begin, I made my dough using the Rose Bakery cookbook (see my Lemon Tart), and let it cool in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes. In the meanwhile, I made the peach mixture for the middle of the tart.To make the filling I used Simply Recipes' recipe, although I amended it a tad to fit my needs. 

I used 4 small peaches (washed and sliced), although not all of them were completely ripe. I put these slices in a bowl and added 1 tbs flour and 3 tbs sugar and if you have it, which I didn't, 1/2 tsp vanilla extract. Toss this as you would a salad so that all the peach slices are coated with the sugar/flour/vanilla mixture.Once you are finished, return your attention to the dough. Tape down some wax paper and put flour all over it so the dough doesn't stick. 

Put flour on top of the dough as well and coat the rolling pin it. Then, roll it out so it's about 1/4 inch thick and place it on a buttered cookie tin. Arrange the peaches in a circular pattern and then fold up the edges of the dough to encircle the filling. A lot of my dough broke apart during this step, but I salvaged it by pressing the sides together to mend the tears. 

I also beat one egg and brushed the pastry with it for the glazed effect. Put the galettes in the oven set to 425 F and bake them for about 15-20 minutes. You should check them periodically to make sure the bottoms don't burn. We ate them for dessert and for breakfast and they were delicious. I love being able to give people my cooking skill for their birthday. When my dad opened up his plate, there was a card taped to it that said, "If you're afraid of butter, use cream"-Julia Child.

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.

Cream Puffs

They say things skip a generation. Diabetes, twins, blue eyes and oddly enough the love for cooking (at least on the maternal side). Some of these are urban legends, people's way of rationalizing seemingly absurd circumstances. Some are rooted in genetic fact. Others are simply based on my observations about my family.

My grandmother is an amazing cook. On Christmas she single handedly makes cardamom bread, a lemon loaf, Irish soda bread, roasted cornish game hens, (my grandpa contributes pasta and bolognese sauce), and cream puffs.

Her mother used to bring the cream puffs and when she died, my grandma took over the very important task: making the food that everyone looks forward to no matter their age or how full they are. Like I said, it skipped a generation, and my mother believes that a nice home cooked meal means the chefs at al di la will cook it for us and then afterwards we'll walk home and talk about it.

She actively despises cooking, even though she does it very well with recipes she's comfortable with. However, we would never stand in the kitchen side by side, baking to our hearts' content and bonding in the process, the sweet image of a mother and her daughter. Rather, my father and I are the ones who have always baked together and now my grandmother and I have found yet another pastime that we both enjoy.

My family doesn't have many heirlooms, but the skill of cooking has been passed down from generation to generation, whether or not it was accepted and utilized. So my cream puffs were inspired by the first baker in my family, who stood at an oven overlooking the mountains of Recoaro Terme, Italy, making custard and chocolate just so that one day I might also (or maybe they just wanted to eat the cream puffs).

I began by making the pastry. I first boiled 1 cup of water with 6 tbs butter and then added the liquid to 1 cup flour, a dash of salt and 1 tsp sugar. I stirred the mixture with a whisk until the dry and wet ingredients were incorporated into little balls.

Then I proceed to add 4 eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Mix this until the dough is homogenous and smooth. I greased a cookie tin and spooned on 12 mounds of dough. They don't rise too much so don't worry about them sticking together, but evenly spaced is best.

The oven was set to 400 F and they baked at that temperature for 15 minutes. Then I decreased the temperature to 350 and baked for 30 minutes. The insides will never become like the outsides, so don't worry if they're mushy since the next step is to take them out of the oven, cut off the tops and spoon out the insides completely. Put them back in the oven for 3-5 minutes so they're nice and crisp.

I let these cool in the fridge for an hour or two and in the meantime I made the custard and chocolate sauce. To make the custard, heat 2 1/2 cups of milk until there are tiny bubbles around the rim. In a separate bowl, whisk together 3/4 cup sugar and 5 egg yolks and finally 2/3 cup flour. Add the milk to this and whisk together.

Then return all the mixture to the pot and continuously stir for about 5 minutes or until it has thickened into a custard like form (this is its final consistency, it won't get thicker while it chills). Finish the custard by adding 2 tbs butter and 1 tbs vanilla extract (after the flame has been turned off). Stir until the butter melts and then put this is the fridge for 2 hours or the freezer for 1 (which is what I did).

The chocolate should be made as close as you can to when you're loading the puffs with cream. I used 1 ounce (1 square) of baker's chocolate and 1 tbs butter. I melted the chocolate and butter together and then added 2 tbs water and 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar. Continue stirring over the flame until it becomes smooth.

Then I added a few tablespoons of cream to each puff and closed the lids on them (adding cream to the lids as well so they stuck) and then drizzled chocolate on the tops. We ate them with raspberries and after all those years of helping my grandma assemble cream puffs for the entire family, I felt initiated: I have made cream puffs on my own.