How to Convert Recipes From Cups to Weights
In response to my article in the Washington Post about why you need a scale in your kitchen, a reader asked how to convert recipes from cups to weights and how to know whether a scale is accurate. Her questions and my answers follow, in addition to my cheat sheet of weights for the most common baking ingredients.
Q: Do I now toss out all my cookbooks & try to replicate recipes (including grandma’s) with appropriately written ones found on the Internet or in Medrich’s cookbook? How does one exchange old recipe cups for ounces or grams?
A: Please don’t toss out beloved old recipes (or books) just because they don’t have weights! There are two methods for converting recipes to weights, depending on whether a recipe is a familiar favorite or one that is new to you.
If a recipe is already a tried-and-true favorite—one that normally turns out well for you— measure with cups exactly as you usually do but then weigh each measured ingredient before you add it to the batter. Don’t use a chart in the back of a book or on the Internet for this—the idea is to capture what you actually do, but in weights. Jot your weights on the recipe. This requires extra steps only the first time you make each recipe again. You will up with a repertoire of reliable recipes with weights, and those recipes will forever be faster and easy to reproduce.
For recipes that you have never tried, use a weight chart from a credible baker or pastry chef (or my Cheat Sheet below) for ingredients other than flour. Don’t fret about slight variations (a few grams or tiny fractions of ounces) between charts for most ingredients.
Flour is a critical exception — a few extra nuts or raisins in a recipe don’t hurt a thing but too much flour can make a huge difference. There is no official agreed upon weight of flour per cup across all recipes and all cookbooks. My cup of flour weighs 4.5 ounces, while King Arthur’s weighs 4.25 ounces. People who dip and sweep may be getting 5 to 6 ounces in 1 cup. The trick is to use the same amount of flour as the cook who created the recipe!
Here’s how: if the recipe is in a book that does not include weights, read the front of the book to see if the author explains how they measured flour—whether they dip the cup into the flour and sweep it level or if they fluff the flour and then lightly spoon, or any other details. Then measure a cup of flour exactly as described and weigh it. Use that weight per cup for the recipes in that book or in any other book where the author describes measuring in the exact same way.
If you remember seeing your grandmother dip a measuring cup into the flour canister or sack—and that is probably how most grandmothers did it—or you remember her doing it a different way, then you should measure a cup of flour her way and then weigh it. Use that weight for all of her recipes!
Q: HOW DO I INSURE THE ACCURACY OF MY SCALE?
A: Check the weight of an unwrapped 4-ounce/113 gram stick of butter. If you plan to weigh small quantities, like salt and leavenings, or you just want to know that your scale is accurate in small increments, weigh some coins: 2 pennies or one nickel should weigh 5 grams. (Keep in mind that if your scale is accurate only to 5 grams, it will always round up to the nearest 5 grams: 1 penny will register 5 grams and 3 pennies will register 10 grams. Don’t let this confuse you. And don’t expect to be able to measure in 1-gram increments.)
If the scale is off, use the calibration feature—check the manual to see if has one and follow the instructions. Absent a calibration feature, return a new scale to the store. Or, regardless of age, email the manufacturer asking if they can fix it for you. They might ask you to send it to them. Do it. Sometimes they will send you a new scale!
ALICE’S CHEAT SHEET: THE WEIGHT OF COMMON BAKING INGREDIENTS
Butter: 4 ounces/113 grams per stick (thus 1 T=14 g)
Nuts: weights vary by type of nut and whether the nuts are whole or already chopped. When it comes to nuts, exact amounts are rarely critical, but it is so much easier to weigh first and chop next. Here are the weights that I use for different types of nuts:
Walnut and Pecan halves or large pieces: 3 ½ ounces/100 grams per cup, or 4 ounces/113 grams per cup if already chopped
Peanuts: 4 ounces/113 grams per cup
Whole Almonds or hazelnuts: 5 ounces/140 grams per cup, or 4 ounces/113 grams if already chopped
Pistachios: 5.33 ounces/150 grams per cup
Sugar
Granulated sugar: 7 ounces/200 grams per cup
Brown sugar (firmly packed): 7 ounces/200grams per cup
Confectioners’ sugar: 4 ounces/113 grams per cup
What to Expect When You Finish Writing A Book
My publisher (Artisan Books) is an imprint of Workman Publishing, the folks that brought us What to Expect When You Are Expecting. Now that’s a book that will never go out of style, right? The reader hangs on every word for 9 months: month-by-month it tells the pregnant one what she may or may not be feeling. Way to hedge a bet! Yet, somehow I never felt like throwing that book out the window, rather than just throwing up. I kept reading and feeling “normal” and even slightly reassured. The whole point, yes?
Because my ninth book, Flavor Flours, is finally about to come out, and because I’m bound to get swept up into the excitement of the blessed event, I thought that new cookbook writers might like to know what it may or may not feel like to finish a book for the first time—or the ninth.
When you send back (what you hope are) your final page corrections, you may or may not feel all of the adrenalin rush out of your body.
You may or may not know if what you are feeling is elated or shitty.
You may or may not feel the exact same things when you finish answering all the copy editor questions that come up after you send in your final page corrections.
Even after the book is en route to the printer, you may or may not continue to wake up at night thinking of cool things to add, things you wish you’d thought of earlier.
You may or may not want to publish ever again.
You may or may not want to prove it by throwing out all of your backup notes, versions, and passes: instead you box them up and put them in the basement for when you die and the Schlesinger Library inquires after your remains. Yeah, right.
You may or may not have a thousand new book ideas (I know exactly one person who felt that way, once)
You may or may not feel depressed (crabby, angry, frustrated, tired…). A pox on all their houses is exactly what you may or may not feel like saying.
You may or may not continue to create and test new recipes that could have, should have, and would have, gone into the book (because in spite all of the above, you know you still care)
You may or may not have the urge to clean, purge, and organize every nook and cranny of your office, kitchen, fridge, freezer, and pantry. Don’t worry, even if you do have this urge, you may or may not ever actually act on it.
You may or may not dread the upcoming (and very exciting) book tour that is planned for you—the one that you are so very grateful to have because so few publishers provide such a thing anymore.
You may or may not believe your book is fantastic, even when your co-author, editor, publisher, and publicist know that it is.
You may or may not think you should finally return to blogging because, after all, it’s been soooo darn long, and what would you even write about?
You are certain to forget almost everything I just wrote the moment you see your advance copy—with all of its fingers and toes in place.
Mine came an hour ago and already I remember (almost) nothing.
What I Learned From My Mother
Some people were taught to cook by their mothers. I was not. My mother was not sure enough of herself in the kitchen to preach or teach, per se. You just had to hand around. She cooked simple food but was never adamant about her methods, although she was and is adamant about what she likes and doesn’t like. She doesn’t like foods that are sauced to death or fussed with. She doesn’t like mayonnaise on anything. She likes food to taste like what it is. She wants her green veggies bright green, al dente, as we all learned to say a few decades ago. Don’t give her any long-cooked southern veggies with pot licker; these would not be her style. She probably sounds unsophisticated and unadventuresome. She isn’t. She knows good food when she tastes it, and though she was brought up in New York, she has the palate of a Californian. When I’d come home from college in the 1970’s, there would always be a perfect ripe avocado. My dad thought avocados were for girls, and my brothers were not interested (!), so she didn’t buy any unless I was around to enjoy them with her. We’d catch up at lunch: the avocado would be sliced and fanned on toast, sprinkled with salt and pepper with a squeeze of lemon. I recently saw a “recipe” for “avocado toasts” that involve mashing an avocado with mayo and this and that. My mother and I just don’t get that: how to ruin an avocado, we would have said.
Several months ago, we had a late lunch at Mani Nial’s Sweet Bar Cafe in Oakland after a doctor’s appointment. She wanted to share the turkey sandwich with avo and cheddar. I thought that sounded boring, but I agreed anyway. It turned out to be a great sandwich. We fell silent for a while, just chewing and enjoying. When she emerged from her reverie, she sighed, “now I’m thinking about what (insert name of retirement community where she lives) would have done to these same ingredients”! At times like that I realize two things: first, my appreciation for good things to eat did not come out of nowhere, and second, we had better do something fast about institutional food, before we all go to live in (otherwise splendid) retirement communities!
My mother turned 91 recently. She is still big on vegetables and salads, and fresh fish. She and my father “discovered” Sushi 30 or 40 years ago, when you had to go to a Japanese community to get it.
Up until several months ago when my mother decided to stop drinking even the smallest glass of wine or beer, her “happy meal” might have been have been boiled edamame, a few pieces of super fresh sushi, and plenty of hot saki. Gelato for dessert, if possible. She doesn’t care that sophisticated people drink chilled sake of better quality than the type that is served hot or warm. She likes what she likes. If she weren’t my own mother, I would probably think she was the coolest sort of character. Instead I roll my eyes sometimes. I wish she were still drinking a little, because we tend to get along especially well over a glass of wine. At least we are still eating sushi and avocadoes. And rolling out eyes together over what other people do with food…
Eye rolls aside, I am who I am because of her. I don’t necessarily accept anyone’s rules about anything (especially food) unless I’ve proven them for myself. Of course I have my own rules, but those usually come after I’ve thoroughly (but privately) discredited someone else’s. I am more rigorous in my process and more adamant about my food rules than she was or is, but she was a home cook, not a professional, so she gets a pass there. Like her, I also have distinct preferences for good ingredients very simply prepared, I rarely eat a dish (other than dessert) with loads of creamy stuff in it or on it, and I like my food to taste like its ingredients.
PS. Since I wrote this post my mother has gone back to drinking a little wine. This makes us both happy.
Temper Tantrum Part Two
As I said in Temper Tantrum Part One (below), instructions for tempering chocolate are usually brief and deceptively easy looking. As a result, many people find tempering to be completely frustrating. I hope the following not-so-brief notes and instructions adapted from my book, Seriously Bittersweet (Artisan, 20130) will help. Even if you prefer to use a tempering method other than The Chunk Method described, the information that follows it—The Test For Temper, Keeping Tempered Chocolate in Working Condition, and How To Fix Over Tempered/Over Seeded Chocolate—is essential if you want order to avoid the heartbreak of grey or streaky confections, after all of your time and effort!
Just A Few More Things to Keep in Mind before you jump in
A piece of tempered chocolate has a shiny reflective surface (unless it has been scuffed or jumbled with other pieces of chocolate) and an even interior color and texture. It is brittle enough to snap audibly when broken or bitten. Melted chocolate that has been tempered shrinks slightly as it cools and so it releases perfectly from molds, and mirrors any surface with which it has been in contact: tempered chocolate poured into a mold with a shiny surface will emerge shiny. Any bar or piece of chocolate that you buy was tempered at the factory and, unless it has been damaged by heat in transit or in storage, and will still be tempered when you unwrap it to eat or cook with.
Heat-damaged chocolate or chocolate that has melted and cooled at room temperature without being tempered again looks dull and gray, perhaps mottled or streaky. It may be soft and cakey at first, but it will eventually become dry and gritty with a stratified interior texture. When that happens the chocolate actually tastes less flavorful and melts less smoothly in your mouth.
Whether in perfect temper or out of temper to start with, each time chocolate is melted, it must be tempered in order for it to cool and set at room temperature with a glossy surface and crisp texture. Chocolate can be melted and tempered over and over again.
There is no need to temper melted chocolate used as an ingredient in a batter or dessert, sauce, or glaze. However, if you want to dip cookies in chocolate that will dry hard and glossy, or if you want to make a molded chocolate rabbit, or if you want dipped chocolates (or pretzels) to dry beautifully and keep at room temperature, you must temper the chocolate.
Melted chocolate solidifies as it cools because the fat molecules link together and form crystals that connect to form a sturdy network. Cocoa butter is a complex fat capable of taken different crystal forms, but only one of the forms is stable and will cause the chocolate to contract and harden with the desired shiny surface and brittle snap. This stable form is called beta. It takes only a small percentage of beta crystals in melted chocolate, to ensure that subsequent crystals will also take the beta form as the chocolate cools. The process of tempering involves a sequence of heating, cooling, and stirring steps designed to produce just enough beta crystals to set the pattern for the rest of the crystals that will form as the chocolate cools.
Under the right conditions, beta crystals form and survive at temperatures between 82°F and 91°F; they melt and are destroyed at higher temperatures. Most tempering methods involve heating the chocolate well above 91°F so that all crystals (stable and unstable) are melted and destroyed so that you start with a kind of crystal-free blank slate. Then, as the chocolate cools, you create brand-new beta crystals. Once there are enough beta crystals, the chocolate is tempered. Since you cannot see the crystals (alas), you can use a simple test to determine whether enough crystals have formed, thus whether the chocolate is in temper.
And A Few Tips Before You Start
Keep this mantra in mind: Tempering is not simply a matter of taking chocolate from one prescribed temperature to another, even though most instruction focuses mostly on that activity. Tempering is a function of three interrelated factors: time, temperature, and agitation (stirring). This means that your chocolate may not be in temper the moment you have completed the steps to get your chocolate to the “correct” temperature. Often, the chocolate just needs a few more minutes of stirring. Do not get so involved with temperature that you forget the necessity for time and stirring. Use the test for temper as feedback as you work, and be prepared to practice, go slow, observe, and adjust (Zen and the art of chocolate tempering).
It’s best to temper more chocolate than you need for a recipe or dipping project. A large bowl of tempered chocolate is easier to keep warm and in good working condition than a small one and any chocolate left over can be saved for reuse. I like to work with at least 1 ¼ pounds (565 grams) of chocolate, but you can temper any amount you like using the following guidelines:
-Use real chocolate (not compound coatings) but not chocolate chips
-Do not work in a hot room
-Don’t allow moisture to come in direct contact with the chocolate: make sure that the knife, cutting board, bowl, spatula, and thermometer stem are all clean and dry. If you are dipping fruit, the fruit should be dry as well.
-Before tempering, prepare whatever is to be dipped and/or measure out any other ingredients needed (and have them at room temperature because cool or cold centers will cause the chocolate to crack when it cools) so that your tempered chocolate can be used immediately.
-Have a cool place to set trays of dipped items: I set mine in front of a portable table fan (after anchoring the corners of the parchment or wax paper liners with tape).
-Last but not least, no one said tempering doesn’t take practice!
FINALLY: THE CHUNK METHOD FOR TEMPERING CHOCOLATE
This method requires that 20% (one fifth) of the chocolate you start with be solid chocolate that is already in temper —and in one or two large chunks instead of chopped. The remaining chocolate may be in temper or not.
You will need an instant read thermometer, or a chocolate thermometer
1. Set aside 20% of your chocolate for “seed”: the seed should be one or two large chunks and already in temper.
2. Chop the remaining chocolate into small pieces and place them in a stainless steel bowl large enough for thorough stirring. Set the bowl in a wider skillet of almost simmering water and stir frequently at first, and then constantly until about three-quarters of the chocolate is melted. Remove the bowl from the water and stir for a minute or two to melt the remaining chocolate. If the chocolate is not entirely melted put it back in the water and continue to stir briefly. The goal is completely melted chocolate at about 100°F (if it was in temper to start with) or at 120°F (if it was not in temper). If the chocolate exceeds these temperatures, don’t worry; just let it cool to 100° before proceeding.
3. When the chocolate is at 100°F, drop the reserved chunk(s) of tempered chocolate into the bowl and stir constantly, pushing the chunks around the bowl and scraping the sides of the bowl regularly, until the chocolate registers 90°F for dark chocolate or 88°F for white or milk chocolate. As you stir, you are simultaneously cooling the chocolate and melting the surface of the tempered chunks. As the temperature of the melted chocolate approaches 90°F, stable beta crystals from the surface of the chunks start to mingle with the melted chocolate and form the “seed” to create more beta crystals. When there are enough beta crystals in the bowl, the chocolate is tempered. The object is not to melt the chunks entirely, but to use them to provide the beta “seed” to produce more beta crystals, and then fish out and save the chunks for another project. In fact, if your chunks are completely melted by the time the chocolate reaches 90°F, the necessary beta crystals are likely to have been destroyed; you may have to add another chunk and continue to stir.
When the chocolate is at the desired temperature (90°F or 88°F), it may or may not yet contain enough beta crystals to be tempered. Use the Test for Temper (see below) to be sure. If the chocolate is not in temper, continue to stir for a minute or two longer then test again. As soon as the chocolate is in temper, remove the unmelted chunk(s) and chill them in the fridge for 10 minutes then store at room temperature to be used again. Use the tempered chocolate immediately.
THE TEST FOR TEMPER
Never assume your chocolate is in temper, or use it, without testing it: Drizzle a little of the chocolate onto a knife blade or a piece of wax paper. Set the test in front of a fan (preferably) or in a cool place. If the chocolate is beginning to set within 3 minutes and it has a nice sheen, it is tempered. If it is still completely melted and wet looking after 3 minutes, it is not yet tempered. (If it has begun to set but looks dull, it may be over tempered, see How To Fix Over Tempered/Over Seeded Chocolate, below).
KEEPING TEMPERED CHOCOLATE IN WORKING CONDITION
If you are using the tempered chocolate for dipping, stir it from time to time and scrape down the bowl to prevent chocolate from building up around the sides. The chocolate will cool and thicken as you work. You can rewarm the chocolate in a pan of warm water for a few seconds at a time, or warm the sides of the bowl with a hair dryer, and stir until the chocolate regains fluidity as long as you do not let it exceed a maximum temperature of 90°F or 91°F for dark chocolate or 88°F to 89°F for milk and white chocolate. Or, to keep the chocolate warm longer, you can keep the bowl of chocolate in a container of warm water just 2 degrees warmer than the maximum temperature for the type of chocolate you are using. Or set the bowl on a heating pad covered with several layers of two so that it is barely warm.
But tempered chocolate will thicken over tine as you work with it, even if it is kept at or reheated to its maximum temperature. This means that too many beta crystals have developed: the chocolate is over seeded or over tempered
HOW TO FIX OVER TEMPERED/OVER SEEDED CHOCOLATE
Tempered chocolate thickens as you work with it. Intuitively, it would seem that the thickening is due to cooling, but that is only partially true. In the course of dipping centers (or whatever), re stirring the chocolate and scraping the bowl from time to time, tempered chocolate will thicken even if it is kept at its warmest “ceiling temperature”. Why? Remember that the formation of beta crystals necessary for tempering the chocolate required time and agitation in addition to the right temperature. Once the chocolate is in temper, time and agitation (that is, dipping and scraping the bowl and restirring the chocolate) continues to create more beta crystals, whether or not you want them. More beta crystals make the chocolate thicker and harder to work with. The chocolate is still in temper but it is overtempered or over seeded: it will set even faster than before and with a duller finish.
The fix? If the chocolate is at or close to its ceiling temperature, but still too thick, you must melt and destroy some of the excess beta crystals by allowing some of the chocolate to exceed the maximum temperature. Set the bowl in the water bath for a few seconds as before, but without stirring so that the chocolate around the sides of the bowl gets warmer than the rest. Then remove the bowl from the water and stir the chocolate thoroughly to mix in the warmer chocolate. This should return your chocolate to a more fluid and, with luck, still tempered state. If it’s not fluid enough, set it in the water for a few more seconds, then remove and stir well. After this maneuver, always test for temper again to make sure that you haven’t melted too many of the beta crystals and lost the temper of your whole batch.
Anther way to fix over seeded chocolate is to add a little “virgin” chocolate* to the thick chocolate and stir it in thoroughly. This re-warms the chocolate, reduces the ratio of tempered crystals and puts you back in business
*Virgin chocolate=chocolate that has been heated to 125°F and then cooled to 92°F to 90°F without tempering.
Temper Tantrum Part One
I started my career making chocolate truffles without ever having tempered chocolate. I did not even know how to temper. I’m not bragging about my ignorance, but my rule breaking turned into revelation: a national obsession for chocolate truffles was launched from my Berkeley kitchen in the early 1970’s. Those truffles—first made in my home kitchen and sold at the Pig By The Tail charcuterie and later made and sold in my own shop, Cocolat—were as good as they were because I was doing a whole lot of things “wrong” which somehow added up to something spectacularly right. Somehow.
I have become adept at tempering since those early days, although I still use tempering avoidance tricks and “cheats” strategically when I think they are a quicker and smarter way to get certain kinds of results. Knowing the right way to do things wrong—when and how to not temper—remains a valuable part of my skill set!
You can read more about this and the story of Cocolat, and get recipes for those Cocolat truffles, in Seriously Bittersweet (Artisan 2013).
But I have a tantrum to finish.
When tempering is really necessary, I want to get it right. And I want others to be able to get it right as well. There are several methods to get chocolate in temper, so that it sets with an even sheen (and without streaks or white pockmarks), breaks with a snap, and remains stable at room temperature. But where are the good instructions (regardless of method) for making this happen?
The problem is that no one who publishes for the home cook wants to hint that tempering is tricky; much less that it requires knowledge and practice. Is it a conspiracy? Tempering instructions—on TV, in magazines and cookbooks, and even in cooking classes—are deceptively brief, almost breezy. They focus on melting the chocolate to a precise temperature and then cooling it down to another precise temperature with some chopped chocolate “seed” stirred in. It's as if all you have to do is get a thermometer and follow the steps and your chocolate will be in temper.
This drives me absolutely crazy.
Once in a while, you can get lucky following simple rote steps and end up with tempered chocolate. But beginner’s luck is just that.Tempering chocolate requires three things: enough time, enough stirring, and the right temperatures. This means that it is entirely possible to heat and cool the chocolate, hitting all of the right temperatures, just as directed, and then dip your bonbons but find them dull, streaky, and mottled hours later. This happens to people all of the time. Sure, those ugly bonbons are still edible, but after spending time and the effort to temper the chocolate, “edible” hardly cuts it.
Consider a driving manual that just tells you how to turn on the ignition, step on the gas, and turn the steering wheel…
Good tempering instructions should explain that hitting the right temperature marks without adequate time and agitation (stirring) will not result in tempered chocolate. Good instructions should tell you how to test for temper to confirm that the chocolate that you think you tempered, really is in temper— before you dip those bonbons—and what to do when it isn’t. Good instructions should tell you how to keep tempered chocolate in temper while you work with it, and how to reheat it, if necessary, without breaking the temper. (Really good instructions should tell you what “over tempered” chocolate looks like, and how to fix that as well!)
I’m sorry I’ve made tempering sound more complicated than any of us want it to be. But knowledge is power, right?
Temper Tantrum (part two) coming up, with really good instructions for tempering chocolate.
Procrastination (With Extra Virgin Olive Oil)
I do some of my best work when I supposed to be doing something else.
Right now I’m supposed to be reading/correcting galleys for the revised edition of Bittersweet, which will come out in October (provided that I finish reading/correcting). The new title is Seriously Bitter Sweet. I’ve begun to think of it (affectionately) as SERIOUS BS, but we’re not mentioning this to anyone. My deadline is looming.
Otherwise I’m supposed to be testing recipes for yet another new book. My deadline is looming on this as well.
I’m also supposed to be developing a fun recipe for the back of a healthy cereal package. That deadline seems to be staring at me too.
Why, then, am I trying out a new cookie recipe with extra virgin olive oil? You tell me.
HAZELNUT AND OLIVE OIL STICKS
Extra virgin olive oil and a hint of pepper make these slender crunchy nut cookies extra good. The flavors are subtle but sophisticated— they grow on you. You’ll find yourself eating more of them than you expected to eat. Delicious andinteresting. Strawberries should taste good with them, or cup of oolong might be the perfect, but I am much too busy to try either of those. I have deadlines looming.
I shape the dough free form on a sheet of foil before chilling and slicing, but you can use a loaf pan to control the shape if that seems easier.
Makes about three dozen 4 to 5 -inch cookies.
Ingredients:
- 2/3 cup (76 grams) raw hazelnuts
- 1 1/4 cup (160 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour
- 1/2 cup plus 1 1/2 tablespoons (110 grams) sugar
- 3/8 teaspoon salt
- ¼ teaspoon freshly ground black or white pepper
- 6 tablespoons (80 grams) extra virgin olive oil (a lovely evoo from California would be good)
- 4 teaspoons cold water
Equipment:
- Food processor
- 1 or 2 baking sheets lined with parchment
- 5 x 9=inch loaf pan, optional
Combine hazelnuts, flour, sugar, salt, and pepper in a food processor, and pulse until the hazelnuts are finely chopped. Drizzle in the olive oil. Pulse until the mixture looks like coarse crumbs. Add the water and pulse just until the mixture resembles damp crumbs—it should not be a smooth mass—but it should stick together when you press it. Pulse in a bit of extra water if necessary.
If using a loaf pan, line the bottom and sides with foil. Dump the mixture into the pan and spread it evenly. Press it very firmly, making a thin layer. Or, dump the mixture onto a sheet of foil on a baking sheet and distribute it evenly over an area about 4 to 5 inches by 9 to 10 inches. Press it firmly, squaring up the edges, to make an even compact layer about 1/2 inch thick. Fold the foil over the dough and wrap it tightly. Refrigerate for 2 hours or over night.
Preheat the oven to 350F. Position racks in the upper and lower third of the oven.
Unwrap the dough and transfer it to a cutting board. Use a long sharp knife to cut the dough crosswise, into scant 3/8 inch slices. Use the knife to transfer the slice and lay it onto the cookie sheet. Repeat, placing slices 1 inch apart. Slices will be fragile and require the support of the knife in transit.
Bake until cookies are golden brown, 15-18 minutes (time depends on thickness of cookies). Rotate the sheets from top to bottom and front to back half way through the baking time to ensure even baking.
Slide the parchment carefully onto a rack or set the pans themselves on a rack to cool. Cool cookies completely before stacking or storing. Cookies may be stored, airtight, for several days.
Bacon Meringues
More Meringue Madness
Chestnut flour: amazing
Sleepless And Going Bananas
11. Salted-Caramel Banana Bread Pudding: recipe in Sinfully Easy Delicious Desserts (Artisan, 2012)
Makes about 1 1/3 cups, enough for a dozen or more popsicles or 6 to 8 medium bananas, frozen on sticks.
Ten Quick Smart Things To Do With Strawberries: Day Seven
I had better finish up my 10 ideas for strawberries before strawberries go out of season! Fortunately this idea is good for fresh cherries too, not to mention figs.
Serves 15 or more
Ten Quick smart Things to Do With Strawberries: Day Six
STRAWBERRIES WITH WHIPPED CREAM AND HALVAH
Did you know that strawberries and sesame are divine together?
For more ideas for strawberries, see recent and upcoming posts and my new book, Sinfully Easy Delicious Desserts (Artisan 2012) by Alice Medrich
Ten Quick Smart Things to do With Strawberries: Day Five
STRAWBERRIES IN RED WINE
Open a modest bottle of red for this, or use wine left from a party. It's even ok to mix different kinds…no one will know.
Ten Quick smart Things to do With Strawberries: Day Four
For more ideas for strawberries, see recent posts. Also see my new book, Sinfully Easy Delicious Desserts(Artisan 2012), page 48.
Ten Quick Smart Things to do With Strawberries: Day Three
Does anyone else remember brunch in 70’s? Yes, quiche was there, and very chic indeed. But I especially remember this seriously simple and delicious dessert: a bowl of ripe strawberries was served, flanked with a dish of sour cream and a dish of brown sugar. Guests dipped a berry into the sour cream then into the sugar. Finger food! In more formal circles than ours, I suspect that each guest had their own little plate…
For more things to do with ripe strawberries, see recent and upcoming posts. Also see my new book, Sinfully Easy Delicious Desserts(Artisan 2012) by Alice Medrich.
Ten Quick Smart Things To Do With Strawberries: Day Two
Make sorbet without an ice cream machine? No cooking either? You can prep this sweet and refreshing dessert in fewer minutes (not counting freezing time) than it would take you to go out and buy it. It’s also a perfect way to use those delicious leftover berries that no longer look party fresh. Preserves instead of sugar syrup contribute a smooth texture and complex flavor. Serve the sorbet plain or with a little whipped cream or a dab of crème fraîche right from the carton. Oh, and yes, you can skip the balsamic vinegar; just replace it with water. That’s it.
Makes almost 3 cups
Pinch of salt
A small lemon
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice, or to taste
4 teaspoons balsamic vinegar, or to taste
¼ cup water
Equipment
Food processor or blender
Rinse and hull the berries and put them in the food processor or blender with ½ cup of the preserves and the salt. Finely grate zest from half of the lemon into the processor bowl. Puree until smooth. Add the lemon juice, vinegar, and water and pulse to mix. Taste and add the remaining jam as necessary for sweetness and adjust the lemon juice, vinegar, and salt if necessary. The puree should taste a bit sweeter than you think it should and have a little zip to it.
Ten Quick Smart Things To Do With Strawberries: Day One
I know. No one really needs a recipe for serving ripe strawberries topped with whipped cream, right? But I thought I would start with my basics (Alice’s Rules, so to speak) and let everyone take it (or not) from there.
Love To Cook, Hate To Bake?
My New Website
Alice in Videoland Part Two
Alice In Videoland
Chocolate Hamantaschen
What? Purim already? I know people who don’t like Hamantaschen because they don’t like poppy seeds especially, or prune filling, or anything else reminiscent of the Jewish cookies of childhood. Well, I do like (love, even) poppy seeds and prunes and the like, but I am sensitive to the needs of others. So I offer you this very good recipe for Hamantaschen filled with CHOCOLATE. I think everyone will be happy now. Try it, you’ll like it!
CHOCOLATE HAMANTASCHEN
What I Love About Genoise
Carrot Improv
Why are there so many carrot posts on this blog? I really don’t know.
Where Ideas Come From
Crabby When Wrong
Sinfully Easy
Poached Eggs Hold The Vinegar
Squeezing Hanukkah Potatoes
Rules and Ratios
The Best Old Things
I have mixers and processors, ice cream machines, an infrared thermometer, digital scale and my share of electric or electronic gadgets in my kitchen. But some of my best, most often used tools are old and simple. Good looking too. And filled with memories. A few date from l972, acquired in Paris, at La Samaritaine, or a street market or corner quincaillerie (hardware store). If I need a cup or two of grated carrots or beets, I'd rather reach for one of my tin (not even stainless steel) Mouli graters than bother with the food processor. One has a rotary barrel, the other slightly larger, Mouli Julienne, has three disks with different size holes. They remind me of finely shredded veggies dressed in vinaigrette, the ubiquitous salades de crudites we ate in modest French restaurants and cafes long ago.
Rolling pins? I have my great grandmother's tapered maple pin, with which my mother made her Thanksgiving apple pie, before she decided it was more convenient to make apple crisps instead of apple pies. I have a small slender pin made of dark wood, that's only 12 inches long and just an inch in diameter. More like a fat dowel than what we consider a rolling pin, this pin is used to roll out crackers or flat bread in I-forget-which country, and was given to me by a friend from Indiana. It is surprisingly versatile. Actually it's the sports car of rolling pins: I find it remarkably easy to manoeuvre and it turns on a dime. I also have a beautiful, and hefty, hand-turned ash and walnut pin crafted recently by another friend. I use whichever suits the task and my mood.
The slotted spoon is employed several times each week to lift perfect poached eggs from their hot (not-even-simmering) bath. I love my micro plane and vastly prefer the original design, without a handle to distract from the essential beauty of a perfect functional tool. I use the grooved mortar and pestle often to make, among other things, a ground coriander, fennel, and pepper corn crust for seared tuna (From Paul Johnson's book, Fish Forever).
Cocoa Curiosity
Duck Duck Duck Eggs
Dulce Dulce
(Revised from Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunchy Melt-In-Your-Mouth Cookies)
Makes 1 generous cup
Ingredients:
½ vanilla bean
1 quart whole milk
1 tablespoon butter
½ cup (3.5 ounces) sugar
½ teaspoon baking soda
Pinch of salt (optional but really good…)
Set a fine or medium fine strainer over a heatproof bowl.
With a sharp paring knife, cut the vanilla bean in half lengthwise. In a large heavy bottomed pot (that holds at least 6-quarts) combine the vanilla bean pieces with the milk, butter, sugar, baking soda, and salt. Bring the mixture to a simmer, stirring frequently, especially around the sides of the pot. At first the milk will foam dramatically, and it may curdle, but will eventually smooth out. Continue to cook, frequently stirring in any foam on top and sweeping the sides, corners, and all over the bottom of the pot with a silicone spatula. Keep the mixture boiling briskly but not furiously without letting it overflow. The mixture will gradually turn a deep caramel color as it thickens. This may take from 60-90 minutes, depending on your stove and the size of your pot. The mixture becomes especially bubbly and foamy in the last stages of cooking: adjust the heat so that it bubbles actively but not violently and stir it very frequently, and then constantly (especially around the sides and corners of the pot) until done. It is done when the mixture is reduced to a generous cup and a little spooned over an ice cube thickens to a soft gel. Scrape the sauce into the strainer and stir and press it through. Be sure to scrape the sauce from underneath the strainer into the bowl. Cool the sauce slightly, then taste and adjust the salt. You can put the spent pieces of vanilla bean back into the mixture if you like. They will either keep on giving flavor or at least look as though they are. May be kept in a covered container in the refrigerator for at least 1 month
Sending Back the Fish
Berkeley Breakfast For Two In 15 Minutes
Last week my dear friend E set out for Berkeley from the North Coast to continue the celebration of her 75th. As usual, she stopped at the Booneville hotel to break the drive. But the Booneville was booked, so they tucked her in at the Toll House Inn 10 minutes up the hill on the road to Ukiah. She headed south again the following morning, after de-icing car door handles and scooping up the bottle of Alexander Valley chardonnay (Handley 2007) gifted by the hotel. Neither of us would have chosen the chardonnay, but even the persnickety can be tempted by free wine. Good thing.
POACHED EGGS FOR TWO W/ ASPARAGUS, BROWN BUTTER, FRESH TARRAGON, AND CALIFORNIA CHARDONNAY
Bring the asparagus water back to a simmer. Break four very fresh farm eggs into the water, in a clockwise pattern. Turn the burner OFF, cover the pan, and set the toaster oven for 3 minutes. Meanwhile uncork an expensive bottle of champagne and discover that it is not very good. When the toaster oven beeps, divide the toast between two plates and drizzle them with a little of the brown butter. Use a slotted spoon to remove the first egg, draining the excess water by resting the spoon on a folded paper towel before sliding the egg onto a slice of toast. Repeat, scooping each egg from the water in the order it was added. Garnish plates with asparagus and drizzle more brown butter over the eggs and asparagus. Top with tarragon leaves, pinches of flaky salt, and grinds of pepper.
Serve a slightly oaky, buttery, bottle of Alexander Valley Chardonnay (which turns out to be an even better choice than the champagne would have been…) Linger over breakfast as long as possible.
PS Enjoy left over brown butter on toast with salt and tarragon leaves for several mornings thereafter and don't forget to return the champagne to the store.
Good News and Bad News: Carrot Re-Torte Part Two
Carrot Re-Torte
Ingredients:
Book Touring Blogger’s Guilt w/ Apple Crisp
By the l970’s my mother’s magnificent double-crusted apple pie—perfected during my little girlhood—gave way to a series of lighter, simpler experiments. Around the turn of the twenty first century, The Pie became The Crisp. You might assume that The Crisp is best served warm or at room temperature. But I especially love it cold, even after two or three or four days in the fridge! Whipped cream on top is always nice, but not essential.The skins left on the apples actually add flavor and body to the juices, as do the dried apricots and orange zest. If some or all of the apples are red (but crisp and at least a little on the tart side), the filling will have a beautiful rosy hue. Chunks rather than wedges are the preferred cut, because small squares of apple skin are pleasant to eat while long thin pieces only suggest that the cook was lazy instead of smart like a fox.
Position a rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Liberally butter the baking dish.
The Safe Drivers’ Guide to Cupcake Calculation
Equipment:
1 regular (not jumbo) cupcake pan with 12 cups, lined with paper liners
Position a rack in the lower third of the oven. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Melt the chocolate and butter in a stainless steel bowl set directly in a wide skillet of almost simmering water. Set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, mix the flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt together thoroughly. Add the very warm chocolate mixture, oil, eggs, and vanilla and beat on medium speed for one minute. Add half of the water and beat for 20 seconds. Scrape the sides of the bowl and add the remaining water. Beat for 20-30 seconds until the batter is smooth. Divide the batter evenly among the lined cups. Bake 18-22 minutes (rotating the pan from front to back half-way through the baking time), just until a toothpick inserted into a few of the cupcakes comes out clean. Set the pan on a rack to cool for ten minutes. Transfer the cupcakes from the pan to the rack and let them cool completely before frosting or filling. Store and serve at room temperature. Makes twelve cupcakes
TIP: For light tender cupcakes, spoon flour lightly into measuring cups (instead of dipping the cups into the flour) and then sweep the measures level without tapping or shaking them. Better still, use a scale!
3 ounces unsweetened Scharffen Berger 99% unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick or 2 ounces) unsalted butter, cut into several pieces
2/3 cup heavy cream
2/3 cup sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
Place the chocolate and butter in a medium bowl and set aside. Bring the cream, sugar, and salt to a simmer in a large saucepan. Simmer for 4 minutes, stirring frequently. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate. Whisk just until the chocolate is completely melted and the mixture is smooth and glossy. Set aside to cool at room temperature, without stirring for 2 to 3 hours, or until the frosting is cool and thick enough to spread. Or, refrigerate the frosting for about 45 minutes or more (but not until it is hard) without stirring, then let it stand at room temperature until it is the desired consistency. Makes about 1-1/2 cups of frosting
National Homemade Cookie Day
Lost Blog: What No One Told Me
Weight(y) Matters
Maybe it would take an iPhone app to get American home bakers to toss their measuring cups and start using a scale. If you want to skip my lecture on measuring (and why you should get a scale), just scroll down to see some iPhone apps (feel free to send your own photos). Meanwhile, ye faithful, read on…
First, when I say scale, I don’t mean a spring-loaded thing with a dial. I do mean a scale with batteries (like your smart phone, your iPod, your camera, and all of your other necessities). The scale should register eighths or tenths of an ounce. Such a scale can be had for less than the cost of ten lattes, btw. And, you can learn to use it in less time than it takes your barista to make those ten lattes.
If you bake (especially if you bake), here’s why you want a scale.
Consider flour. A heavy hand with flour is the prime suspect for bad baked goods. The amount of flour you put into your measuring cup can make the difference between a moist, light, poem of a cake and a doorstop. It can make the difference between buttery melt-in-your-mouth cookies (or fluffy pancakes) and miniature paperweights. What is a cup of flour anyway? If you stir the flour in your canister a little (but not to much) to loosen it, and then spoon it lightly into your measuring cup and sweep it level without packing, tapping, jiggling or shaking the cup, you’ll have 4 ¼ to 4 ½ ounces of flour in your cup. If you dip your cup into that same canister, and level it against the side, or shake it or tap it or jump up and down to level it, who knows how much flour you’ve got in there? And, if you measure right from the flour sack stored in the pantry jammed behind cans of beans or under the potatoes, then all bets are off. I asked a close friend to please measure a cup of flour at her house, as though she were preparing to bake a cake, and dump it into a bowl and bring it to me at my house. I put her cup of flour on my scale. It was 33% heavier than the lightly spooned and leveled cup described at the top of the paragraph. Can you tell me that a cake or cookies made with a 6-ounce cup of flour will come out remotely similar to those made with a 4 ½ -ounce cup?
Maybe you are living gluten free? Maybe you’ve wondered why you get great results from some recipes only some of the time? Gluten free baked goods are hypersensitive to measuring variation, and the non-wheat flours and starches (rice, corn, tapioca, oat, bean, potato, et al) are especially hard to measure consistently using measuring cups. To add insult to injury, if you make your own gluten free flour blend, the weight of 1 cup of your blend will depend on whether you measure it right after blending or weeks later after it has settled in the canister (that is, unless you make a point of really fluffing the mix before you measure each time). Masterful gluten free baking is challenging enough; using a scale eliminates one very significant wild card.
More reasons to use a scale? A scale streamlines your movements in the kitchen. You can measure ingredients right into the mixing bowl, so you’ll use fewer utensils and have less to clean up. A scale means never having to sift or chop before measuring, and never having to wonder how lightly or firmly to pack a cup of brown sugar. Some of the best chocolates don’t come in one once squares, so you need a scale. I could go on…
A scale means that your results for a given recipe will be more consistent from one time to the next, even (or especially!) if you bake that cake only once a year. If you are someone who is always tinkering and tweaking recipes—you probably make notes in the margin. Weighing is a better way to track your tweaks, especially small changes in critical ingredients such as flour.
Another* Nectarine Story
Recipe: Slice ripe nectarines. Squeeze a little limejuice over the fruit. Toss very gently to keep the slices looking virginal. Serve on the hand-painted plates that you bought in Moustiers 20 years ago on a summer afternoon, after pedal boating in the Gorges du Tarn. Grate a little cinnamon stick over each plate.
The old author as new blogger
What a surprise to learn that starting a blog is more intimidating than writing a book. It’s immediate. Where is the editor to prevent one from making a fool of oneself or committing atrocious grammar? The spontaneity goes against my nature, which is to write (or test) and rewrite (or retest) and rewrite and retest again. To ease into it, I planned a little essay on the creative process. I love to hear any artist (writer, painter, dancer, musician, chef) discuss their work. Even the most mundane details of how they actually do the work has a voyeuristic fascination for me. National Public Radio is a staple in my kitchen. I love Terry Gross and City Arts and Lectures. I planned to cite Malcom Gladwell’s descriptions of artists and their work styles from his New Yorker piece, “Late Bloomers”.
But by the time I sat down to write that essay, I was overcome by my own process. All kitchen counters and the dining room table were covered with labeled samples. The actual work area was a landscape of drips, greasy spatulas, and bowls full of goop flanked by clipboards with handwritten notes coded to match (I hope) the labeled samples. I start a clipboard at the beginning of each project (book, magazine article, client) and after a while I move pages from the clipboard into a binder so I can put tabs on groups of pages to keep some order. I try to remember to date every page and I put the most recent page on top, like a legal brief. I used to be able to have three or four clipboards in play at one time. But lately not so much. After scribbling tasting notes on the wrong clipboard a few times, I refined my process. Now it’s one or possibly two clipboards at a time, and NPR stays on.
I have a reputation for testing. A lot. Anyone who has read or cooked from my books, Bittersweet or Pure Dessert knows this. I thought I was normal until Dianne Jacob described my testing mania in her book, Will Write for Food (a wonderful manual for budding food and cookbook writers, btw). Then I felt self-conscious. But, some times multiple trials are necessary to get flavor, texture, and visuals of a dessert right to begin with. Other times I retest because I’m stubborn or curious. Even when I like my results, I catch myself wondering what would happen if I made this little change, or that one. I love how small details make a difference. “What if this, what if that” is the hallmark of my process and perhaps my greatest professional and artistic asset and also my biggest liability. If I take more time on a recipe than I think I should, I figure it’s an investment for a future project. You can imagine where that leads…
Welcome to my blog, I promise recipes and photos (and shorter posts) in future, but meanwhile check out Malcolm Gladwell’s “Late Bloomers” to find out if you are more like Picasso or more like Matisse. http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2008/10/20/081020fa_fact_gladwell?printable=true.