Archive for ‘Sweets’

December 17, 2007

Truffles for the Holidays


When I was little, I didn’t like chocolate. The dark was too bitter, the milk tasted soapy. The only chocolate I could stand was white chocolate, or a thin layer of milk chocolate filled with sweetened yogurt (so all things Kinder were mine). After a while I got sick of white and yogurt chocolate and started eyeing the “real” stuff. Today I can’t get enough of bittersweet and semisweet chocolate. I’m not a fanatic about spending a lot for high-percentage chocolate (why not just eat cocoa or baking chocolate?), but I won’t touch yogurt chocolate anymore. I love the complex slightly bitter, slightly sweet, tongue-coating “real” chocolate melting in my mouth.

Everything about truffles falls into this last category:

July 1, 2007

Chocolate Chip Cookies

As Michael of The Office says, Wikipedia is great: anyone can write what they think on it, so it must be true! I personally like Wikipedia a lot, but I know that it’s not always true. The funny thing is, they almost always have what you’re looking for… In this case they have a very informative article on chocolate chip cookies, whereas I struck out at Encyclopedia Britannica. All they could tell me was that a cookie is

primarily in the United States, any of various small sweet cakes, either flat or slightly raised, cut from rolled dough, dropped from a spoon, cut into pieces after baking, or curled with a special iron. In Scotland the term cookie denotes a small, plain bun.”

Curled with an iron? What kind of cookie is that??? They don’t explain further. Wikipedia on the other hand is full of information. Not only does it talk about what kind of cookie it is (it apparently belongs in the “drop cookie” category because you drop the cookies onto the sheet in little balls) but it also hints at the somewhat debated history of the cookie (which must be true since it matches up with the history given with the recipe I ended up using…that is, unless she got the information from Wikipedia herself!).

To go into this history, first I have to say that I never understood that Nestlé Toll House actually meant something in terms of the cookie’s history. There’s the famous Friends episode where Monica and Phoebe try to recreate Phoebe’s deceased grandmother’s “perfect” recipe that was called “Toulouse” only to find out it was the Toll House recipe after all. But I never thought that Toll House itself had any meaning, I thought it was just part of the Nestlé name for the chocolate chips. But apparently not. Toll House Inn was the inn that started it all: the birthplace of chocolate chip cookies. And where was said inn located? None other than Massachusetts. Even though it still takes me six tries to spell the state, I knew I was moving there for a reason!

The history itself is hotly debated: did the owner Ruth Wakefield herself, known for her fantastic sugar cookies, accidentally make the cookies one day while trying to make chocolate cookies, or did her cook George Boucher convince her to save a batch of cookies she thought she’d ruined? We probably won’t ever know, but whatever happened I’m glad it did!

People have searched high and low for the perfect recipe. But what entails perfect? The Amateur Gourmet claims that they must be crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside. Meg agrees, saying that they shouldn’t be cakey or too thin (and in the end she decided to average a bunch of recipes together to create the best one). However, I didn’t look at either of these sites until I, as a present to my teachers at school for my last day there, decided to bake for them. Instead, I used trusty Google and found this recipe. I think Stephanie Jaworski of Joy of Baking will become my new favorite resource for baking. This recipe was hands down the best recipe I have ever made for chocolate chip cookies. And let me tell you my friend, I’ve made many a recipe for chocolate chip cookies.

These cookies were excellent right out of the oven, as almost every chocolate chip cookie is. However, the true test of a chocolate chip cookie is time. Most cookies, as they cool, lose their moistness and become crunchy. That’s where milk comes in and you can dip your cookie to soften them. Not this cookie. This cookie has no need for milk, other than to accompany it with the flavor. Even after three days these cookies were just as moist and soft as they were when they came out of my mini oven. And let me tell you: everyone loved them!

Chocolate Chip Cookies (from Joy of Baking)

1 cup (6oz/180g) coarsely-chopped Semi-Sweet Chocolate*
½ cup (50g) toasted Pecans or Walnuts (optional)
1 cup (226g) unsalted Butter, room temperature
1 cup (216g) Brown Sugar**
¼ cup (50g) granulated White Sugar
1 large Egg
2 tsp Vanilla Extract***
2 cups (280g) Flour
¼ tsp Salt
1 tsp Baking Soda

Mix together flour, soda, and salt in a bowl. Set aside. Cream together the butter and sugars until light and fluffy (about 2-3min). Add the egg and vanilla and beat until incorporated. Slowly add the flour mix and beat until combined. Don’t over mix. Stir in chocolate and nuts.

At this point the dough is really soft. Put it in your fridge for an hour, or leave it overnight if you wish. Then preheat your oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit or 190 degrees Celsius. Line your baking sheet with parchment paper and roll 1 ½ to 2 Tbsp of the dough into a ball and place on the sheet. Repeat until the sheet is covered, leaving a couple inches between each cookie. Bake about 8-10 min, or until golden brown.


Notes:

* I used one bar of Ritter Sport Halbbitter chocolate and one bar of Ritter Sport Dunkle Vollnuss. These were a semi-sweet chocolate and a chocolate with whole hazelnuts. The hazelnut chocolate replaced our use of nuts in the recipe. I personally like making my own chunks better than using chips, which are difficult to find in Germany.

**Brown sugar is the most important ingredient to real chocolate chip cookies. This is what makes the cookie moist. You need moist brown sugar, so if you’re making this in Germany listen closely. Do not make this recipe with German granulated brown sugar. It won’t work. The worse news is that it can be almost impossible to find American-style brown sugar in Germany. If you can sneak into an American army base somewhere it’s worth it to buy the brown sugar (and you can get a chunk of cheddar cheese while you’re at it). Some Asian food markets carry it as well. Or your best option is to have someone from the States send you a package.

***Vanilla extract is equally difficult to find in Germany, but much less important. I left it out completely. I don’t like using vanilla sugar packets, which are sold in baking sections, because I think it makes the cookies cakey. We don’t want cakey.

June 6, 2007

Apple-Rhubarb Compote

One of the things I’ve enjoyed the most since becoming more and more aware of foods, and especially the local food movement, is incredibly tasty seasonal foods. There’s nothing like biting into a ripe apple just picked off a tree, perfect plums from the local farmers market, fresh white asparagus, or sweet, bright-red strawberries. Right now we are in the middle of the strawberry season.

I was the kid who always loved strawberries – in any form. There’s an infamous story of me as a two-year-old conspiring with a buddy and eating all of the strawberries, with powdered sugar, that my parents had saved for dessert for their dinner guests. You can imagine the sticky, sugary mess!

However, this post is not dedicated to my favorite red fruit but in fact to one I’ve had a less-loving relationship with: rhubarb. These sweet-tart stalks, which are now in season, have fascinated me, both positively and negatively. I have in the past liked them – especially, and unsurprisingly, in strawberry-rhubarb pie. However, their tartness overpowers their sweetness too much for me in the traditional German Rhabarberkuchen, even with a generous helping of streusel on top. Since my mother liked to make this Kuchen, and it was more often than not the only way I had rhubarb, I didn’t really develop a taste for it.

Until this year. Perhaps it was the stalks that lay around the kitchen in Lafigère while I was there. Untouched but mysteriously beautiful and enticing with their green and red hues, their image in my memory lured me into buying some at the store yesterday when I was shopping for dinner. I double-checked the Herkunftsland (transl. country of origin), the closest I can get to knowing in the store that my veggies are coming from a German farm, and bought two stalks. I didn’t know what I’d do with them – I thought I’d try cooking them into a compote, but was nervous it would be too tart. It wasn’t until I was halfway home that I realized I could throw in one of the Austrian Jonagold apples I’d just bought to alleviate some of the tartness and enhance the sweet flavors of the rhubarb. Stirring it into my cream of wheat this morning I marveled at how simple, and at the same time perfect, this compote is.

Of course, Luisa Weiss, the Wednesday Chef, concludes that after trying Rose Gray’s and Ruth Roger’s recipe for rhubarb: “I don’t know that I’ll ever cook rhubarb any other way again.” Perhaps I’ll have to try that recipe next!

Apple-Rhubarb Compote

2 stalks Rhubarb (ca. 2 ½ cups or 270g)
1 chopped Jonagold Apple (ca. 1 cup or 190g)
¼ cup (60g) Sugar
½ cup water (or as needed)

Peel the rhubarb well with a small paring knife (start at one end and peel the top layer down on all sides, repeat on other end if needed). Peel and core the apple. Chop the fruits into equal sizes and place in a saucepan with sugar and water. Bring to a simmer and cook (about 10 minutes) until soft. If you like, you can puree the compote with a whoosh-whoosh-thingy until desired consistency is achieved. Store in the refrigerator or increase the recipe and can in jars for wintertime. Makes about 2 cups.

May 5, 2007

The Quest for the Perfect Sugar Cookie

Sugar cookies have always been one of my favorite cookies. Now, I would be the first to admit that it’s not as abiding as the chocolate chip, not as concentrated as peanut butter, or as flashy as white-chocolate-macadamia-nut. Nevertheless there’s something about it – perhaps its simplicity, with only a few ingredients almost every pantry can offer you; or its versatility, presenting itself as frosted or unfrosted, died pink or green, sprinkled or not – that makes it so utterly pleasing. It can be, as the Saxons say, eingeditscht (transl. dunked) in coffee, or enjoyed solo as a pick-me-up. The butter and sugar flavors tickle the part of the tongue responsible for sending cravings for buttery, sugary substances into ecstasy and cause them to cry out for more. And suddenly, the plate is empty of the soft, classic cookie.

Yet, it is precisely for these same reasons that when the urge comes to bake cookies, I tend to reach for ingredients for chocolate chip cookies or the heavier peanut butter cookie (macadamia nuts are too expensive, and I’ve only ever made those cookies once as an activity for my college orientation group, when Smith paid the bill). The cookie’s simplicity and versatility lead to a very elusive confection. I dream of someday finding a recipe that would recreate my childhood version of the cookie: the free cookie my sister and I got when we would go to the bakery in Roth’s, our local grocery store, and ask the lady behind the counter nicely for a treat. Depending on the time of year, it would be frosted and/or sprinkled according to the seasons and holidays. The Roth’s cookie wasn’t melt-in-your-mouth chewy like a chocolate chip cookie but rather it was a denser cookie, never crunchy, but more like a cross between a cookie, a biscuit, and a cake. The level of sweetness in the cookie was masked by the incredible amounts of sugar in the frosting. I’m sure my mother groaned inside every time my sister and I ate them, not only because they were unhealthy and she avoided such foods entirely (which of course made them more enticing for us), but also because we would get a sugar high afterward (which would predictably lead to a sugar crash). However, she didn’t have much to fear, since we only ever got Roth’s sugar cookies at Roth’s, and then only one of them, or when we were at school celebrating a party and a parent brought them in, again, only one for each child.

The problem is, there seems to be a schism somewhere between the bakery versions of sugar cookies and all the recipes I have found claiming to be sugar cookies. Recipes tend to create crunchier, greasier cookies, never the soft ones of my taste memory. Of course, I enjoy these cookies as well – they are mighty fine cookies – but after countless years of baking I still have to find a recipe that will reproduce the tasty morsels of my past. Perhaps I should call on Harold McGee for some help, he could tell me the scientific requirements of my dream cookie.

The following recipe is the closest I’ve found so far. Straight from the oven they were almost perfect, but they hardened as they cooled. Despite their shortcomings, they can hold their own against my discerning palate as a Pseudo Sugar Cookie, and just might prevent my hand from reaching for those chocolate chips or the peanut butter jar.

Pseudo Sugar Cookies

2 3/4 cup (345g) all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 cup (225g) butter, softened
1/2 cups (300g) white sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract (or one teaspoon vanilla sugar)

Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Stir together flour, baking soda, and baking powder. In a separate bowl cream together butter and sugar (if using vanilla sugar, add here), then add the egg and vanilla extract. Slowly add to this the flour mixture. Roll teaspoons of the dough into balls and place on an ungreased cookie sheet (I line mine with parchment paper to make the cleaning process easier). Bake for 8-10min or until golden brown.

Yields ca. 48 cookies

April 17, 2007

Café Hawelka

Although my tour guide called it “older than Vienna itself,” and it does look like it, this café is in fact the youngest of all of the ones we went to (if you don’t count them closing for a few decades, being renovated, or even in one case being rebuilt a hundred years after it was torn down). This particular café was opened by Leopold Hawelka in 1939. It closed briefly after opening, due to the war, but reopened in 1945 to a surprisingly intact building (comparatively speaking).

The café became the haunt for many writers and artists, including Friedensreich Hundertwasser, who I will be writing about later. Today its hole-in-the-wall, cozy features welcome elderly men to a kleiner Brauner and a newspaper as well as the café’s specialty, the Buchtel. This delicacy was baked daily by Frau Hawelka herself, until her death two years ago (after which her son took over). They’re pastries filled with plum compote, and absolutely wonderful. Our very friendly waiter (we weren’t in Germany anymore!) delivered five to our table, but said that we didn’t need to eat all – he would just count as many as we ate. During our longish coffee break he came back and asked us if we wanted the other three on our plate, and when we declined, he took them to another table. Pat and I marveled at the difference in culture: in the States you couldn’t ever serve something to one patron, and then give the “leftovers” to another. It’s just unheard of, and I would assume the health inspector would shut the practice down very quickly.

A melange with Buchteln

Nevertheless, these pastries were delicious. Our stay in the café was longer than we’d anticipated, because the ambiance invited us to enjoy as much time there as our busy sight-seeing schedule would allow. Of all the cafés we visited, this one felt the most “authentic” to me, in the sense that regulars still came here for their coffee, and things didn’t seem to be as polished and perfect for tourists.

Stay tuned for more, including an introduction to the various types of Viennese coffees!

Café Hawelka is open daily except Thursdays from 8am-2pm. You will find it in the first district on Dorotheergasse 6.