My husband, Marcus, insisted I add maraschino cherries to this recipe. I didn't want to. Too trashy, too sweet, too processed, I thought. But he absolutely insisted and I could see that it had something to do with nostalgia and the pineapple upside down cakes of his boyhood, so I indulged him. I like french onion dip made with Lipton soup mix. No one is going to change my mind with fancy caramelized onion from scratch dip. So I gave him his bright red cherries.
This recipe is from one of the most reliable and comprehensive food bloggers on the internets, Elise at Simply Recipes. I didn't change a thing. Well, except for adding the cherries.
Last Saturday I made whoopie pies with my friends Olga and Jenna. Jenna is a professional baker. She made the cupcakes for our wedding and she understands lots of things I'm clueless about, like the difference between Italian buttercream and Swiss buttercream. So when I added whoopie pies to my culinary resolutions list, it made sense to hook up with Jenna over egg whites and butter. We made chocolate whoopie pies from Baked Explorations. The recipe is here.
I once had a lemon tree. I was living in a sunny studio apartment on 16th Street. It didn't produce one lemon, but I gave it a try.
Do you have a lemon tree in your apartment or yard? If so, I'm completely envious. Also, let's be friends. Instead of "friends with benefits," we'll be "friends with lemon trees." Of course, I don't have a lemon tree. So maybe instead you could become known as my friend with the lemon tree. "So, I was saying to so and so, you know her, my friend with the lemon tree..." I like the sound of that.
I like the idea of homemade candy, especially during the holidays. The problem is that homemade candy is too much work; it doesn't square with my cooking ADD. I'm not into high maintenance dishes with 17 steps. The cookbook I'm working on? "The Art of Lazy, Tasty Food." The dessert chapter will definitely feature these chocolate dipped pretzels. They took less than an hour, including clean up and packaging.
They sure do taste like more work. Salty. Sweet. Crunchy. Amazing. Chocolate + pretzels might surpass chocolate + peanut butter as the salty dessert power couple.
Look out, family, I'll be home for Christmas, and I'm bringing these beauties. You supply the snow.
I never thought of myself as a person who owns a cake stand. As you can see: things have changed. Since I am the new owner of a cake stand (one which I requested on our wedding registry; one that a nice, generous friend purchased for me), I have to become something else I'm not: a person who knows how to make cakes. I thought I would start off with a carrot cake. I selected carrot cake as the inaugural cake in my baking cakes curriculum, one, because it's Marcus' favorite cake, and, two, because cream cheese frosting speaks to me in hypnotizing ways.
I've mentioned here and there that Marcus and I are getting married. (THIS SATURDAY!) When I tell people this, they immediately start asking questions, like a prosecutor cross examines a witness on the stand: Where is the reception? How long have you been engaged? Where's your ring? What does your dress look like? How are you going to wear your hair? What are your colors? Blah, blah, blah. Let's get to the important stuff: What's to eat?
I usually make at least one rhubarb pie each spring. This year, I made five. Five mini-pies, that is. Making mini-rhubarb pies was something born out of necessity (I couldn't find my pie pan) that turned into a brilliant experiment: a perfect portion of fresh, rhubarb pie, any time you want. Just pluck one out of your freezer, pop it in the oven, and serve piping hot. Having friends over for dinner? Dessert is already made.
I'm not one for desserts. (There she goes again, on and on about how she doesn't like dessert. How annoying.) It's not as if I'm virtuous, I would just much rather eat a big plate of salty, crisp french fries or garlicky bread oozing with parmesan cheese. When it comes to the decision making around calorie allocation, I usually choose savory over sweet. There are a few exceptions, of course. I have a hard time turning down a bite of cheese cake. I also really like cannolis. There's nothing like a cannoli from Mike's Pastry in Boston's North End. I've lived in DC for 13 years and I haven't found a worthy replacement, leaving me with a bad case of cannoli nostalgia. (Careful, you can order these via the US Postal Service).
This dessert, a cannoli cheesecake, combines both of my favorites, producing what could only be described as the ultimate sweet. I couldn't say no.
How does a cheesecake become a cannoli cheesecake? Substitute fresh ricotta for a bit of cream cheese.
