I know.

So I stopped blogging for a bit.

While that dewsh Peter would have you all believe that my reasons for ditching the blog involve Nintendo and BC bud, he would be wrong. Just busy with work and weddings and whathaveyou. You know, the usual boring BS.
Sorry, no sex or drugs to blame...at least not this time

BOO-yah!

The blog has not been ditched. Merely put on the back burner.
I don't know when, but I will be back. Probably when the weather starts to suck. Promise.

Until then, have a cupcake.

Hallmark Holiday

Valentine's Day Dessert Plate For Two

Pardon my not visiting your blogs lately. Cupid has had me by the short and curlies.

Valentine's Day is not something I've ever given two shits about as a wife. But as a pastry chef, it's a different story. I am usually buried in my regular prep to prepare for the incursion of two-tops we'll be hit with that night, as well as the dessert special- usually chocolate, that is expected. Then, that evening, I come back to the restaurant to plate desserts.
I know I am making it sound pretty miserable, but it's actually a really fun, high energy event. I work my ass off in the kitchen, then change into my chef whites and plate- which is something I relish doing, but rarely have the chance.
Later, I have a shot or two with the cooks, and go home to eat pizza with Trevor (our Valentine's day late night pizza delivery/bottle of wine/movie rental is a much beloved tradition).

There were a few added kinks this year, mostly self-inflicted.
One is the fact that now I have two restaurants to worry about instead of one. Two dessert specials, and going back and forth between two restaurants to plate desserts.
Another hindrance- I decided to change the entire menu a few days before Valentine's day. This means that rather than spend the weeks leading up to the big day perfecting a kickass dessert special, I was working out recipes for the new menu.
Then, I convinced myself that I wanted to make truffles for the special.
Truffles.
??????

Yeah, I decided to mix tempering chocolate, with pms and a time crunch.
I don't recommend it.
But, I have said this before and I'll say it again. For some reason, I work best under pressure. Thanks to two awesome assistant bakers who rocked the shit out of the regular prep load, a nice 70 degree kitchen, and the energy giving powers of vitamin B 12 injected smoothies from the joint next door, all went off with out a hitch.

The final plate ended up being a chocolate sampler for two. Dark chocolate sorbet with vanilla bean crema and roasted coco nibs, fresh fruit (blood oranges, red currants), and assorted truffles and confections:
white chocolate-grapefruit truffle with hazelnuts, milk chocolate-Bailey's truffle with pecans, dark chocolate-single malt scotch truffle (which was heart shaped), dark chocolate-pistachio-sour cherry mendiants, and not pictured because it was still cooling at the time: marcona almond brittle

I did the same special at both restaurants to ease the feeling of panic- the dining public will never know.
The big star of the plate was the sorbet, which I promise to blog ASAP, as it's too easy and too delish not to share. The single malt scotch and dark chocolate truffle was my personal fave. But I wont blog it as I ripped it off from the Scharffenberger book, and grabbing the camera to snap a few shots while dipping truffles was completely out of the question.

I slept for 16 hours yesterday and I'm fully recovered. I'll be back to lurk on your blogs now.
Oh yeah- tomorrow is my 5 year wedding anniversary, so there is a possibility of a first ever restaurant review to come....
if I can remember the camera. And it probably wont be a review per se, as that is not my style (I never burn bridges)- but more of a "look at the pictures of this food I ate, it was yummy" type posting.

Buttermilk honey dough and resurfacing from under that white stuff

photo taken exactly one week ago

There are a zillion reasons why I dearly love the two dudes I work for. One of them is how they handle the holidays. Typically, this time of year is not in any way merry for us restaurant employees. We are working our asses off while the rest of the world spends time with their friends and families.
Luckily for my co-workers and I, our employers cut us all a generous holiday bonus check and close both the restaurants down from the 23rd to the 2nd.
We all think they are completely bat shit crazy to do this, as they are missing out on some serious revenue, but we don't exactly complain about it.

During last year's closure I was little miss productive. This year, not so much. First of all, anyone living in the Northwest knows about last week's snow apocalypse.
And before any of your east coasters start in on how we are a bunch of pussies, let me just stop you right there.
Yes. We are a bunch of pussies. However, we are not used to this kind of weather and most of us are not confident driving in it. Then we get the "outsiders", immigrants from Vermont or Wisconsin or whatever, who think they are "experienced snow drivers". They get really cocky behind the wheel of their front wheel drive Honda, forgetting that Seattle is NOT FLAT. We are a city comprised of several neighborhoods, most of which are on their own ginormous hill. I happen to live on one of the biggest ones: Queen Anne Hill, which they had to close down completely. Did that stop the cheese heads from going around the road closed sign? Of course not. They can just drive around it, as unlike these local nimrods, cheese head is an "experienced snow driver". Oh wait...cheese head forgot that Seattle does not salt the roads either. Chaos ensues. Parked cars get smashed into, etc.


Crisis '08!

Needless to say, we were snowed in and we both became ill with cabin fever. Even walking to the grocery store was not exactly safe. The hill was so iced up that falling on ones ass was bound to happen at least a dozen times.

So, we watched a ton of movies and several old episodes of The A-Team, I got over halfway through a 1000 page historical novel about Cleopatra and I did a lot of baking. I even took pictures of all my baking with the full intention to blog all of it. Did I feel like sitting at the computer for any of this down time? No not at all. I can't explain it, but blogging was the last thing on earth I wanted to do.

But, of course, now that the snow is nearly gone and I am free to go out and about- I'm ready to sit down and share some of these recipes with you. Yes, I am a strange bird.

When the snow first started falling, Trevor asked if I might be willing to make him "those little ham roll thingies" and "while I'm at it, what about cinnamon rolls? It's the same dough, right? Puuuleeeeease?"



Yes, it is the same miraculous buttermilk honey dough. It comes from Beth Hensperger, author of The Bread Bible. It's just a perfect white bread dough. Delicious when baked into a loaf and smeared with a little butter and honey. Even better when used for cinnamon rolls, or Trev's fave: Ham and cheddar rolls.



For the ham rolls, roll the dough out into a rectangle and sprinkle generously with sharp cheddar cheese (I like Tillamook). Then lay out several slices of good deli ham. Top with a little more shredded cheese and chopped sage. Roll up like Cinnamon rolls, and slice into medallions. Allow the rolls to proof in a warm spot for about 40 minutes. Then bake at 375 for about 20 minutes. For cinnamon rolls it's the same idea. Roll dough into a rectangle, brush with lots of melted butter. Sprinkle generously with a blend of brown sugar and cinnamon (I never use a recipe for either of these rolls, sorry I can't be exact). Once the cinnamon rolls come out of the oven, make a glaze by whisking powdered sugar and buttermilk together and pour it over the rolls while they are still hot.

Here is the recipe, and I promise my next post will be lighter on the yakity yak and heavier on the content. Pinky swear.

Buttermilk Honey Dough from The Bread Bible
makes 12 cinnamon or ham rolls or 2 9-by-5 inch loaves

3/4 cup warm water (105-115 degrees)
1 T active dry yeast
1 tsp sugar
1 1/2 cups buttermilk, warmed slightly
2 T unsalted butter, melted
3 T honey
1 T salt
6 to 6 1/4 cups all purpose flour

Pour the water in the bowl of a standing mixer. Sprinkle the yeast and sugar over the surface of the water. Stir to combine and let stand at room temp until foamy- about 10 minutes.

Add the buttermilk, butter, honey, salt, and 2 cups of the flour. Beat hard with the paddle attachment to combine. Add remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time until a shaggy dough is formed. Switch to the dough hook and knead for 3-4 minutes, or until the dough is springy. Transfer dough to a floured surface and knead briefly by hand.

Place dough into a greased bowl (I just use pan spray). Turn the dough once to grease the top and cover with plastic wrap. Let dough rise at room temperature until doubled in bulk, 1 to 1 1/4 hours.

Gently deflate dough and form into desired shape, or follow above roll instructions. Allow to rise again for 40 minutes, then bake.


cinnamon rolls were devoured before a photo shoot could take place.

Comfort Food

Huckleberry Creme Brulee: scented with fresh bay leaf and served with brown butter tuiles

You know what hurts, like really bad?
A fractured rib.

Those of you who follow my twitter updates already know, I was in a car accident on Monday evening. Yes, folks- it's one woe-is-me post after another here. And by the way, thank you for all of your kind words about my kitty. Percy is doing much better-he's just as sprightly and obnoxious as ever, just the way we love him. He has, however passed his cold on to his sister- but she's always been a rockstar and seems to be kicking it's ass.

So, back to my whining: I was hit on the drivers side in the middle of an intersection. My car is kind of totaled (I can't close the driver's side door). The guy was in his mid 50's, driving a Lexus. Needless to say- he's got tons of insurance- so ya know, there's that.
Luckily, he was only going about 35 miles an hour. But that was enough to give me a nasty bruise on the side of my head, a healthy case of whip lash, and a fractured rib. Which hurts like a bitch. The other driver is totally fine, and I could be in much worse shape. For the most part, I am thankful that we are both okay.

But this rib....good god. Please don't make me laugh, cough, or sneeze. For that matter, I'd prefer not to breathe if thats possible. Anyone who has ever had one of these knows that there is nothing the doctors can do. I was given a weeks worth of codeine and told to "take it easy".

The last couple of nights, as I've been nursing my aches and pains- I've been craving comfort food (wine and the doting husband can only do so much). The combination of hurting, the cold weather, and this post, which I read just hours after the accident, brought it all on.

I need a hug

It seems like the general dining public is craving it as well. Some of my fancy pants desserts at the restaurant are being snubbed for the simple, snuggly ones. Huckleberry creme brulee in particular seems to be all the rage right now. Which is fine by me- as it couldn't be easier to make.

I use frozen huckleberries procured by the very same hippies that forage the wild mushrooms for the restaurant. They come all cleaned and ready to go (huckleberries are a fucking nightmare to clean). Those of you not living in the pacific northwest might be shit-out-of-luck. There is no commercial licence for huckleberries (which are native to the mountainous regions of Northwest forests), so they can be hard to find if you live in Skokie, Illinois. Blueberries would work (but they're nowhere near as good. sorry).

I infuse my brulee base with a vanilla bean and some fresh bay leaves. If you've never tried a dessert made with fresh bay leaves, for the love of god try it. It's really good infused into creamy substances such as flans, ice creams, and of course brulees. If you live in an area where huckleberries are nigh impossible to get your hands on, I highly recommend you just try the bay-scented brulee. Trust me on this. Have I ever let you down?

Huckleberry-Bay Creme Brulee
makes 4-6 individual servings, depending on the size of your ramekins

9 fresh bay leaves
1/2 of a vanilla bean, split and scraped
3 cups whipping cream
6 egg yolks
1/4 tsp salt
4 oz. granulated sugar
1/3 cup huckleberries, fresh or frozen

Tear the bay leaves and combine them with the cream and vanilla bean. Bring to a boil. Remove from heat, cover, and let steep for 2 hours.
Whisk the eggs, salt, and sugar together in a large bowl. Bring the infused cream back to a boil and temper it into the eggs. Strain through a fine sieve.


Line a roasting pan with a tea towel to keep the ramekins from sliding around. Pour hot tap water into the pan until the cups are halfway submerged. Divide the huckleberries amongst the ramekins. Pour the brulee base into each cup. Cover pan with foil and bake at 350 for 45 minutes to 1 1/2 hour (start checking after 45 minutes). Brulee is done when custard is set, but slightly wobbly. Remove cups from water and chill for at least 4 hours, overnight if possible. Just before serving, sprinkle with granulated sugar and (if you have a propane turbo torch) torch until the sugar melts. Otherwise, place under the broiler until the top is golden brown. Don't walk away, this happens fast!
Serve with cookies.

It's snowing in April

I am in a snit today. Exactly one week ago, Seattle had it's first 80 degree day of the year. I was basking in it- sitting on the deck with Trevor drinking my own incarnation of a mint julep, eating sunflower seeds, and wearing funny looking sunglasses. I can't recall a time that I was so happy to be in the sun.

The very next day, it was cold and rainy. Fine. I'm a Seattle native. I have learned to deal with that. What I refuse to accept, is snow in fucking April. I call bullshit. It has been snowing off and on since Friday. And no, it's not the fun kind of snow that piles up so we can all be confined to our homes making snowmen and snuggling by the fire. It's the wet stuff- mixed with rain and melting the second it hits the ground.
Not to mention, every couple of hours, it stops and the sun comes out for about ten minutes. Just to fuck with us.
Being that I plan my dessert menu around the seasons, all I can do it cringe at what this must be doing to the poor rhubarb that I depend on. It gets me through until the local strawberries and cherries arrive. That feels like a lifetime from now.

Anyway- I'm making the best of it. I've been sitting under a blankie with my book and a cup of the best black tea known to man.

Market Spice is this little shop in the Pike Place Market that sells honey, tea, spices, and whatnot. Their original blend is a dark and spicy orange tea, which rocks the house when infused into a creme brulee base. But the huckleberry tea has become a nightly ritual. I am not much of a "berry" tea girl, but there is something about this one. With a splash of milk, and if I am feeling lavish- a twist of orange rind, I have my dessert in a cup. I am tasting desserts all day, so when the after dinner urge for sweetness comes, I reach for a hot drink. Caffeine has very little effect on me (unless there is an absence of it), so rather than keeping me up, it actually puts me to sleep. I sip on this while Trevor eats his fudgesicle- this man married a pastry chef and all I can make for him is ice cream or chocolate chip cookies, and still, he is just as happy with his fat free fudgesicle (yes, he prefers the fat free ones)...but that is the subject of another rant.....

Sugar High Friday #36- Drunken Apples

Nighthawk Applejack Cake

Oh what a perfect theme for my mood today. It's been a rough weekend- physically at least. It all started at work on Saturday morning when I was peeling apples for a pie and accidentally peeled off most of the nail on my middle finger. It's now hanging there by a thread. If you have done this before, you know that not only does it hurt, but it also kind of gives you the heeby jeeby shivers. Later that day, as I was adding the butter to a dry caramel, I foolishly just threw it in there. Hot caramel came splattering at me, resulting in about 9 huge burns on the inside of my palm and forearm in about half a second. I know, caramel is really hot and can cause the most painful burns. Why did absent mindedly toss that butter in? I Dunno.
And finally: My mom and I went to Crow last night for dinner and a bottle of wine....and a really stiff cocktail...or was it two? Working at Betty gives me an employee discount there and I live a block away. Perfect excuse to order lots of booze. It will be cheap an I can walk home. Well- on my drunken walk home, I tripped and fell, skinning the hell out of my knee. Why does this hurt so much more than I remember skinned knees hurting as a kid? I can barely friggin' walk today. My nice pants now have a big ugly blood stain on them. Good thing I live in a quiet neighborhood and nobody saw. That would have hurt more.
Oh yeah- my husband made me watch Transformers with him when I got home. I think that was more painful than all three injuries combined.

Apples, booze, and a naughty kitty

I woke up this morning having all sorts of laundry and chores to do, but all I felt like doing was hanging out in the kitchen and soothing my aching body with some sort of cake. I got on the computer, looking for something to do with these goregous local Newton Pippin Apples I had sitting on my counter. Then, I found myself visiting a blog that reminded me of Sugar High Friday and it's deadline, which is today.
Hosted this month by SpittoonExtra who chose apples and booze as this months theme, I knew I had found my project for the day. I've been wanting to make the Nighthawk Applejack Cake from The Northwest Best Places Cookbook and now I had the perfect excuse. This is an upside down style cake from The Breadline Cafe in Omak, Washington.

It's really simple to put together and it's ingredients are all pantry staples. The finished product is a really moist (due to the batter being mostly chopped apples), gooey, Yukon Jack laced treat. The best part is that this cake needs no embellishment whatsoever. Let it cool for 10 minutes in the pan, then flip it out, dowse it in Yukon Jack, and serve. Ice cream or whipped cream, in my opinion, would just tame the tangy apple and whiskey flavor. It's the dessert version of a beverage my parents used to drink while we were on ski trips: "Apple Jacks" or as they used to call it- "courage"- Yukon Jack and hot apple cider. I was of course a child and could not partake in the libations, but I remember the smell of the sweet cider hitting that whiskey and wishing I could just hurry and become a grown-up.

Nighthawk Applejack Cake adapted from The Northwest Best Places Cookbook

1/2 cup butter, melted
1/3 cup packed brown sugar (I used dark brown)
3 medium sized tart apples (I used Newton-Pippens and highly reccomend them)
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup chopped nuts (I used walnuts & I toasted 'em first)
1 egg, lightly beaten
2 Tbl. Yukon Jack whiskey, plus more for serving
2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease an 8 or 9 inch cake pan (* put a circle of parchment paper on the bottom of the greased pan to be safe). Combine 1/4 cup of the melted butter with the brown sugar. Stir to mix well. Pour into the cake pan. Peel, core, and thinly slice one of the apples arrange the slices on the bottom of the pan. Set aside.

Peel, core, and coarsley chop the remaining 2 apples and put them in a large bowl with the remaining 1/4 cup of melted butter, egg, yukon jack, granulated sugar, nuts, and vanilla. Stir to mix.

Sift the dry ingredients together, then stir into apple mixture until combined. Pour batter into the cake pan and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean, about 50 minutes (* Mine only took 35 minutes and my oven is pretty accurate- keep an eye on it)

Allow the cake to rest for 10 minutes, then carefully turn it out onto a serving plate. Lace the top with a generous splash of Yukon Jack and serve.

Sugar High Friday was just what I needed today. I still hurt, but this cake sure made it better. And now to go dowse myself- in peroxide...and maybe a swig of the leftover Yukon Jack...