Packaging, Round II: Bon Voyage, My Sweets

"Christmas Crunch" is not a candy (well, probably it is)--I am in the midst of it, and before I tackle my next project (involving sewing--wish me luck!), I'll share a few photos of the packages I shipped out to people from Houston to Queens, Boston to Kansas City.

Not like I had the time, but I got a little nutty with my new alphabet stamps and labeled the boxes. (Oh, and check out the *Bakers Cord*!)

Interior. I have to work on my photo lighting.

Takeout boxes holding "sweet," "spicy," and "chocolatey" varieties.

Goodies in that there box.

Whole mess'a sugar.

Holiday Cookie Packaging: Round 1 Completed

Last night, with a little help from my sister, I packed up cookies to give coworkers. The candy boxes and takeout boxes I ordered did the trick nicely! But my dumb baker's cord hasn't arrived yet. Maybe today. I'd certainly like to have it before I start packaging cookies to mail.

I always have grandiose packaging ideas, but I invariably do not have the time (or the patience, once it comes down to scrambling to mail the baked goods) to execute them. So it stayed pretty simple.

Here are the takeout boxes (hmm....that's a riveting caption).

The candy boxes turned out to be a very usable size. Here they are with not-real-but-close-baker's-twine-ish-twine-I-had-from-last-year.

For some reason, I found the idea of packaging sweets in an empty sugar bag highly amusing. So I did.

A close-up of the cookie tray I brought for the office. Pictured are (counterclockwise from left): peppermint bark, chocolate crinkles, butter pecan turtle cookies, icebox sugar cookies, and Russian tea cakes.

Two Cookie Recipes

Someone at work asked for these recipes, and because I had an image of the recipe card for one, and remembered the other, I just typed them up. SO: I shall post them here as well. Bon Appetit!

Russian Tea Cakes (from memory, but I think this is right)

1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
1/2 C confectioners sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
2 1/4 C flour
1 C chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts are good. I use pecans and toast them first)

confectioners sugar for coating the cookies


Preheat over to 400°.

With an electric mixer (or by hand), blend butter, vanilla, and confectioners sugar until smooth. Add salt and flour and stir (by hand) until well incorporated. Stir in nuts.

Roll in 1-inch balls and place an inch or two apart on parchment-lined cookie sheets. Bake 10–12 minutes, or until set and barely lightly brown on top (keep an eye on them). Rotate cookies sheets top to bottom and front to back halfway through baking time.

Cool a couple minutes on sheets on wire racks. Roll warm cookies in confectioners sugar. Cool. Roll in sugar again.

Makes about 4 dozen.

These freeze well. You may want to roll them in sugar again once they're thawed, before serving.

---

Butter Pecan Turtle Cookies

Crust:
2 C all-purpose flour
1 C firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, softened

1 (heaping) C whole (i.e., not chopped) pecan halves

Caramel Layer:
2/3 C butter
1/2 C firmly packed brown sugar

1/8 tsp salt
1 (heaping) C chocolate chips (I prefer bittersweet or semisweet)


Preheat oven to 350°.

In a medium bowl, mix together the flour, sugar, and butter (I find a pastry cutter works well), until well combined and the crumb is fine. Pat firmly into a parchment-lined, 13x9x2" pan. Sprinkle pecans evenly over the unbaked crust.

Prepare the caramel layer:
In a heavy, 1-quart saucepan, combine butter and brown sugar. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until entire surface is bubbly. Then cook for 30–60 seconds, stirring constantly.

Pour the caramel evenly over the pecans and crust (the crust won't be completely covered, but once in the oven the caramel will bubble over the entire crust).

Bake near the center of the oven for 18–22 minutes, until entire caramel layer is bubbly and crust is light golden brown (try not to overcook, as overcooking makes the caramel and crust less chewy and more brittle).

Remove from oven and place pan on cooling rack. Sprinkle salt evenly over the caramel, then sprinkle with chocolate chips. Let stand 2 or 3 minutes, to allow chips to melt slightly. [Now I quote directly from the recipe card:]
"Slightly swirl chips as they melt; leave some whole for a marbled effect. Do not spread chips."

Cool completely (you can put the pan in the refrigerator or freezer to speed things up). Use the parchment lining to lift the confection out of the pan and transfer to a cutting board. Cut into bars. Enjoy!

The yield depends on how large you cut the bars, but it's around 3 or 4 dozen.

Holiday Baking: A Kind of Mania

Maybe it's an indication of my age, but this season, instead of clocking late nights in the kitchen and forcing myself through work days, I decided to take Friday and Monday off, for a 4-day holiday baking weekend. Why I'd never done this before I do not know, as it proved a less taxing way to succumb to my all-hours cookie mania (hey--I'm a spinster: if I want to start baking at the crack of 5pm and continue until 3am, so be it!), which is simultaneously exhausting (I was thoroughly bleary-eyed by Saturday) and exhilarating (just me, my kitchen, lots of butter and sugar, and a Christmas movie on in the background).

And, oh yes, I DID wear a hairnet!

(The photo's a little fuzzy, but the package does, in fact, read "Bouffant Size" at the top. What started as a joke between my sister and me turned into a handy bit of apparel to don whilst baking.)

Pleasant Suprises
This year I did only a few of the old standards (sponge candy, peppermint bark, Russian tea cakes) and a bunch of new recipes (white-chocolate-dipped oatmeal cookies, icebox cookies rolled in colored sugar). There were two pleasant surprises:

The first, the double-ginger cookies, above, from a Cooking Light recipe that made its way onto the MyRecipes.com cookie countdown this year. Although it is a relatively "healthy" cookie (no eggs, no butter, whole wheat flour), it is nonetheless a delicious one. Candied ginger (I used almost the whole stash I'd ordered from King Arthur Flour) is mixed into a sticky dough that already contains ginger powder, and the combination makes for a delightfully potent "bite"; the cookies are rolled in granulated sugar before baking, which caramelizes slightly in the oven, lending a little crunchiness en route to its chewy, cakey center. This recipe's a keeper! (I oiled my hands when handling the dough, instead of flouring them, by the way.)

The second, and more meaningful, pleasant surprise was discovering an old recipe card of my mother's (from Land O' Lakes), shoved inside one of her old cookbooks; it was a recipe for:

Butter Pecan Turtle Cookies!

As I read the card--particularly the part admonishing the baker to "swirl the chips" for a "marbled effect," and to "not [sic] spread" them--it all came back to me, a forgotten treat. Upon finding the card, I threw aside my cookie itinerary for the day and almost immediately began preparing them. A simple recipe, really, and with such chewy and delicious results.


A Teacup of Whiskey
I have a cookbook, and I'm not sure of its origins, but it eventually came into my mother's hands, and then mine. It's a spiral-bound beaut published in 1970, but with more of a fifties feel, titled Holiday Cooking: Recipes from Home Economic Teachers. How I adore this book. It deserves its own blog post. It straddles the line between true old-timey goodness (it's where I found my sponge candy recipe) and the relative novelty of convenience food (Jell-O, yellow cake mix).

For a few years, around the holidays, I longed to tackle a recipe for Pecan Cake. I find the idea of dense, spicy Christmas cakes full of nuts, some dried fruit (no citron!), and liquor so nostalgically appealing. But what intrigued and tickled me most of all about this particular recipe was that it called for "a teacup of whiskey." Who could resist? Well, not me! I got down to it on Friday, and let me tell you, a teacup full of whiskey is a lot. The cake was spiced only with nutmeg, and called for 2 lbs (!) of raisins (I put in less, and still it was too much--for me, with raisins, a little goes a long way), and 1 lb of pecans (I put in more--for me, with nuts, more=better). The recipe called for putting the batter into a bundt pan and baking for 3 hours (yes!) at I think 325. I wanted to give loaves of it away as gifts, so I filled 8 mini loaf pans, 1 large loaf pan, and 1 medium loaf pan. I increased the temperature to 350, but, in the end, lowered it to 325 and baked them for close to the 3-hour baking time. I was afraid of them being underdone. What I know for next time is that, on sitting and cooling, the cakes firm up a lot. So these are a bit on the dry side, but not bad (esp. with tea). I brought a sliced loaf of it in to work today, somewhat apprehensive about how it would be received, and it was met with approbation (phew!).

And some more...
Here are a few more photos:

Peppermint Bark

Russian Tea Cakes, waiting for their second powdered-sugar bath.

White-chocolate-dipped oatmeal cookies with golden raisins, scented with fiori di Sicilia (it was my first time using the flavoring).

I survived bake-a-thon '09

1 Xmas cake
3 types of candies
8 kinds of cookies

more later.

Brown Paper Packages Tied Up With String

Baker's cord, baker's twine: whatever you call it, it would look cool tied up around the candy boxes I ordered! I don't know what was more exciting: finding this in the Sundance catalog, or finding something in the catalog, among the overpriced boho-wear and peace-signed everything, that was reasonably priced. Fifty-four yards of each color! And on nifty wooden spools. They also have narrow grosgrain and velvet ribbon similarly packaged.

Baker's Cord, from sundancecatalog.com

Also, just this morning, Heather sent me an email with a link to this site, and they have baker's twine, too (among lots of spiffy packaging items)!

Bakers Twine, from bakeitpretty.com

Ahh! One Bee Evicted (now go make me some honey!): King Arthur Flour Order Placed (woo!)

Hello,

Yes, I altered my blog template. The little flower-shaped bullet points were really bugging me, not to mention the serif font. Anyhoo.

I just cashed in my great gift card from Bonnie for King Arthur Flour! I'm pretty eager to receive my wares, which I hope arrive on the 4-day end of 4-to-7-business-days-shipping (especially since I recently arranged for two days off work as baking days). I decided to use the gift card primarily for chocolate, as that's one of the more expensive baking/candy ingredients. And they have some good stuff! Callebaut, which I have used and like a lot: better than Ghirardelli (which is perfectly fine), not too far behind Valrhona, and more reasonably priced than Valrhona or o-so-delicious Scharffen Berger (a.k.a Schnarfenfarrfer, a.k.a. Fahrvergnügen). I ordered the 3-lb bag of Callebaut semisweet chocolate chips (only $18!), and some Callebaut white chocolate chunks (good/"real" white chocolate is so much better than its overly sweet, simpleton counterpart). And check these out: Schokinag Extreme Dark Bittersweet Chocolate Chips (75% cocoa!). Only vaguely familiar with Shokinag, but hope to explore its heart of bittersweet darkness soon.

hmmm...they don't look extremely dark in the picture...

Another tasty tidbit I added to my shopping cart was Soft Diced Ginger. I'm a huge fan of this spicy digestive marvel of a root, but not terribly keen on big, gritty chunks of crystallized ginger (especially in cookies or cakes). This is a soft, small dice of candied ginger. I have accumulated several ginger cookie recipes recently (from "cookie countdowns" I've subscribed to), and hope to incorporate spicy ginger flavor into more than one type of cookie this season.

gingeriffic.

Star-Spangled Bee in a Bonnet

Part of the homemaker spirit is wanting others to feel comfortable and, well, "at home." And I imagine it's difficult to feel comfortable and at home when you're living out of a tent in 100-degree weather wearing full combat dress in a part of the world where you're not universally welcome and you're probably only in your early twenties to boot.

Part of being a spinster means having a little extra love and attention to spread around, so I decided I wanted to do something for soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan for the holidays, especially considering they are usually ridiculously young, often part of a minority population (fighting for the majority--or, more accurately, the interests of the affluent minority--which galls me), and not infrequently come from poor families. I really should've conceived of this back in early November, to have a more reasonable timetable for sending something halfway around the world....but here we are.

I was thinking holiday cards or greetings. I did some searching around online. As you can imagine, it isn't so simple these days to send a card or package to a soldier. You need a soldier's name to accompany an address (at one time, it was all right to send generic letters addressed to "Any Soldier" or "Any Serviceman").

I eventually found a site called Any Soldier. One look at the site design and the bravado-infused copy makes it clear that "marketing" isn't top of mind for the site's creators, but no matter. They're accomplishing a pretty remarkable feat and connecting people to thousands of soldiers.

Forget the Cookies: Send Some Deodorant!
You can search a list of soldiers, click on a name, and see how many time that soldier's address has been requested, where he/she is stationed, and what his/her troop requires. The soldiers listed act as liaisons for their whole troop. Sending cards and letters is definitely an option, but once I started looking around, I figured, "It's the holidays--why not send a whole care package?" It is not as simple or romantic a gesture as it was in my nostalgic, watched-too-many-World-War-II-era-romances imaginatoin. For one thing, no homemade treats allowed (horrors to my baking sensibilities)! I guess it makes sense..... if you're sending a package to a soldier who doesn't know you..... (they're advised to throw away any un-factory-packaged food from unknown sources). For another, a customs form to fill out, and very specific rules about what to pack and what not to pack (no pork or pork products, for example, which at first seems arbitrary, until you remember almost all soldiers are stationed in Muslim countries), and how to pack it (lots of tape, but clear packing tape, not duct tape!). There's also the consideration of 110-degree temperatures (no chocolate to be sent in the summer months). And thorough and accurate contact infornation must be provided up front.

O, Nuts!
In case you're wondering what "stuff" I decided on, one package included bags of nuts, seeds, and trail mix, requested by a captain who said there were men in his troop who wanted healthy snacks. I actually saw that a few times--requests for healthy food, and no more candy. The other package was for a soldier and her female troop-mates, who wanted deodorant, hair-care products, and nice-smelling lotion (I'm surprised feminine hygeine products weren't specifically listed in this request--because, understandably, those made the top of several lists!).

I plan to ship the packages tomorrow morning--after, of course, filling out the 2976-A customs form, listing all the contents, and swearing they are intended solely as gifts and not for resale..... I hope they get to their destinations (one in Iraq, the other in Afghanistan) before the holidays. It's supposed to take a couple weeks. But if they get there at any time in undamaged condition, I'll be happy. If I end up hearing back from one of the soldiers, I'll certainly add an update to the blog.

Pasta Cooked Risotto Style, or, Yes, Thank You, I Already Read the New York Times!

Hi.

I was thinking about this last night, when my stomach felt jumpy and I needed to pad it with some starch and was cooking whole wheat spaghetti (broken into manageable lengths): I was stirring the pasta as it cooked, and thought, "What if you keep stirring the pasta, as you do risotto? Would it be a globby mess? Should I stop stirring?"

I did. Mostly.

Then the pasta was cooked,and I drained it, and I mixed in some cracker crumbs, ghee, and churna (a mixture of digestive spices; I try to follow an Ayurvedic diet [during non-holiday-food-free-for-all-days, at least], but more on that another time). It wasn't bad.

Anyhoosal, now it's Wed., so I was looking through the Dining & Wine section of the New York Times. And, lo and behold, there's an article and recipe from Mark Bittman about cooking pasta as you would risotto. Crazy, no?

Two Big Bees in My Holiday Bonnet, or, "I tell ya Macy's ain't got any; I tell ya nobody's got any!"

Bee the first: Cutting Table (for fabric, not surgery) (roughly counter-height--or bar-height, depending on your standard) (prevents back pain, and, might I add, unvacuumed cat hair from sticking to fabric spread out and cut on the floor)

I saw them (by "them," I mean "one") on sale at Jo-Ann over the weekend. Thought it was too expensive and I didn't really need one.
Then I went back (for some interfacing) the next day, and decided I did really need one.
By then, not surprisingly, it had been sold.
So I looked online yesterday. Found one on Amazon on sale for $60 or $70 (what I've learned about cutting/hobby tables: the nice ones are really expensive, and the crappy ones...are still pretty expensive). Saved the page, surfed about, went back, refreshed the page, and the sale price had "magically" disappeared.
Nuts.
And, furthermore, rats.

No matter, surely eBay had scads of them, and for cheap!

They didn't.

If you want to stay close to $100 (I told you they were 'spensive!), there are two options: Jo-Ann's "Sew Essentials" (pause for polite giggling--or retching--at sewing pun) cutting table, or Sullivan's Home Hobby Table. Neither of which is the picture of sturdiness...or frugality.

But (to quote another Christmas movie) "such was my mania" to acquire a cutting table, I decided I had to order one. TODAY. Because, you know, of all that fabric I'm going to cut in the upcoming weeks, and the presents I'm going to wrap (my sister and I have taken to using ironing boards as gift-wrapping tables), and having extra surface area to cool sheets of cookies, and, and..... However would I get through the season without one?! It seems sew essential!

The Sullivan's table had enough negative feedback about its wobbliness that I decided on the Jo-Ann table, (which is probably just as wobbly, but had a slightly different construction). There was a one-time-only 40% off discount on the site, so the table came in at under $100. (And I might possibly get another $17 back: because of some website snafu they'd prolonged sale prices from the weekend, but one isn't reimbursed until one receives one's merchandise. Screwy.)

Phew!


Bee the second: Rolling Pin Cookie Cutter (please see quote in headline from Miracle on 34th Street)


Sadly, my search for a rolling pin full of cookie cutters met with much less success. Apparently, they are no longer manufactured. Even Wilton's Holiday Cookie Wheel (whee!) has been discontinued. I found a few on eBay, and a few would-be rolling-pin-style contenders, but nothing matched the elaborately designed, no-dough-left-behind models I'd seen in my youth.

KAF's Springerle Rolling Pin, in all its Teutonic Old-World Craftmanship.

Alas, even King Arthur Flour (home of the $50 gift certificate--from Heather's mother, it turns out [thanks, Bonnie!]) could not appease me. They did have a delightful springerle cookie-cutter rolling pin, but unless one's making springerle or something equally unleavened/dense/dry, there would be too much puffing and spread for the intricate details to survive the baking process.

It's lovingly-cut-out-one-at-a-time sugar cookies for me this season (pff! or no sugar cookies at all...)

O no she dih-unt!

So yesterday I was going through Saturday's mail (what? it's a holiday weekend—I'm behind) and came across a fancy-pants envelope from King Arthur Flour (what sort of marketing ploy is this? I wondered; are they attempting to make me feel "special"? [usually I'm a sucker and that approach works]).

I opened it, and noticed something "handwritten" (I'm getting used to typefaces that mimic hand printing) on the inside flap, and a mention of $50. I assumed it was an insidious way of saying "spend $250 and get a $50 store credit." When I looked closer, however, I noticed the note was handwritten, and said:

 

(That is, "Thank you so much with the wedding")

My friend Heather was married on Nov. 7,  and I helped with the set-up (although I certainly wasn't the one who helped the most).  Oh, and I also performed the ceremony, which was an honor.

There was no name on the gift from King Arthur Flour...Heather, was it you? Was it your sister? Whomever, I am not worthy! Such a generous gift! I seriously considered not accepting it, but.... I will try simply to appreciate my good fortune and the generosity of my friends.

Toward what will I apply it?! One of those cookie-cutter rolling pins? Or should I go whole hog and spring for the stand mixer?? (For the longest time, I baked my Christmas cookies with no electric appliances, and I'm only just getting used to the hand mixer. A stand mixer?? That idea's so crazy it just might work!)

Blog readers, what would you purchase at King Arthur Flour with such a gift certificate??

 

My Golden Pull-Apart Buns

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

I made King Arthur Flour's Golden Pull-Apart Buns last night, as well as pumpkin-pie muffins (the muffin that tastes like a pumpkin pie!). A photo of my buns follows:

Happy Feasting!

Today's Bonnet-Bee: Vintage Wool Coats

Looking for one. On eBay. Cannot stop myself. That is all. No photos or links at this time. Will begin winnowing process. Looking for something warm, roomy, plaid, and/or colorful. Am down on down, at the moment. And gray and black. And pronoun "I." Have had an "Elmer Fudd" red wool hunting jacket from the '30s for years upon years (thanks again, Izzy!) and it is the warmest coat * own.

Bonnet-Bee du Jour: Packaging Homemade Treats

For the past, oh, 14 years (gulp! I'm old), it's been my habit to make Christmas cookies and candies and ship them (or give them) to friends. Packaging them, particularly to ship, has alternately been a "fun challenge" and a huge pain in the arse. I am ever-striving toward a method that is attractive, sturdy, and not super time-consuming, in which the different flavors and textures of cookies are preserved. In the beginning, one or two cookies were placed in individual paper candy or cupcake cups and packed in a tin, with plain old red or green tissue paper between layers. It was effective (I think--I don't think I've ever seen my cookies after they reach their intended destination), but: packing them into all those little paper candy cups was hugely time consuming, AND regular old tissue paper isn't exactly "food grade."


"Food grade" became a very important factor for me in packaging cookies, particularly after my sister brandished her food-grade waxed tissue paper from Williams-Sonoma one holiday season. I was an instant convert.

The treat bag is another medium I've tried, but "food grade" becomes a factor once again, especially when you consider that most treat bags you purchase at Target or similar stores need to be "off-gassed" after opening. I've used them, but lined with waxed or parchment paper.

I started getting my treat bags from baking stores or the baking section of JoAnn. Several of the same kind of cookie are packed into a bag, and several different bags are packed into a tin. There's usually an excess of "bag top," however, and, while it acts as padding, there's so much excess bag that the tops need to be trimmed.

I've also used foil candy wrappers for caramels and similar treats: festive and protective, but not exactly expeditious.

It was when I saw this method in Martha Stewart Living that I realized there might be an easier way. Corrugated dividers! Of course—just like in the cookies you get from the store. I filed the idea away, with the thought, "Oh, there's probably some special place they get those dividers; I doubt I'll find them." And I relied on mostly the treat-bag approach for a few years.

Photo courtesy of marthastewart.com.

It was only recently I decided, "Wait a minute!" I would find my own corrugated dividers! A hunt for them at JoAnn was totally fruitless and exasperating, so I did an online search, found the original Martha Stewart article, and saw that the corrugated cardboard came from Dick Blick, with a link and product number provided—easy, right?

Sadly, no. For there was no indication in the product description that the roll of corrugated paper was food-safe. I just couldn't bring myself to order it. But I sallied forth with Google searches, confident that I could find corrugated dividers that were food safe, and...and...

Where the hell were they??

I did find them on the site of a packaging manufacturer, but it was an industry site exclusively, with no e-commerce.

Could I make my own corrugated dividers? Could I invest in a paper crimper and find some food-safe, cardstock-weight paper to feed through it? Ah, no.

• 1) It appears paper crimpers are pretty wimpy, but aptly named, as they only work for, well, paper...
• 2) using foodsafe cardstock would most probably entail dismantling food packaging boxes. (Now that's not time-consuming!)
• 3) Next idea!

In my search for food-safe anything, I came across several sites, geared toward retailers/store owners, that specialized in packaging. Nashville Wraps was particularly extensive, and sold some of their items in packages of less than 100! (No corrugated dividers to be found on the site, but at that point I was no longer surprised nor dismayed.) I browsed obsessively.

Success? Well, yes. And all of it FDA-approved for direct contact with food! Firstly, they sold Chinese takeout boxes; I ordered 25 for $4! For the gift of one variety of cookie or candy, these could be adorable (especially with a little food-grade waxed tissue lining the box, and tied with a festive ribbon). Next, I ordered a hefty number of 1-lb candy boxes—which were of an appropriate shape to fit into an 8 1/2" x 11" padded envelope—and with them, quilted paper candy pads that measured the same as the depth of the candy boxes—cut one in half, place on its side in the box, and, voilà!: divider! The candy pads are three-ply, like the corrugated dividers, and, I think, will be as effective. I can't wait to get my package from Nashville Wraps and try out my methods.

Northern Spies, etc., Part 2: Success?

Twenty-eight hours later, and only a fraction of the pie remains. A palatable crust, after all. (I had replaced the tablespoons of orange juice called for in the dough recipe with vinegar [not Folger's crystals] and feared an overpowering tang. Once baked, however, the crust displayed little sign of overacidity. I will stick to the recipe and use orange juice next time, however.)

I used tart and yummy Northern Spy apples for the pie. Before filling the pie, I sautéed them with butter, sugar, salt, flour, and vanilla (no cinnamon in this pie).

The dough was pretty elastic and rolled out fairly easily.

 Bottom crust filled with precooked apples.

I probably should've chilled the pie before baking; once in the oven for 15 or so minutes, it started getting "droopy crusts," which required some un-Martha-like smooshing.

 

Baked

Glazed with powdered sugar mixed with vanilla, and looking like a matronly woman wearing coldcream before bed (later I added another layer of glaze: powdered sugar mixed with a little half and half).

With the dough scraps, I made three empanaditas filled with a little dulce de leche.

Northern Spies and a Potentially F-ed Up Crust: Part 1

Pie. Pie pie pie pie pie. Crust crust crust crust crust. Is piecrust an art form, or merely a test of one's chutzpah? People tend to shy away from crust-making; it is not for the faint of heart. I might go so far as to call myself a "baker," but not a "piemaker" (oh, hell, and I can't frost a cake worth a damn, either).

I've made my share of pies—usually apple—over the years, but I have yet to memorize a crust recipe or feel confident with one crust recipe over another. (I did, however, once engage in the anal-retentive rigamarole of preparing a piecrust the Rose Levy-Beranbaum way, and I must say, it was one of the tastiest crusts ever I baked—worth every nit-picky detail. One has to admire Rose... I do! And I adore her Christmas Cookie book.) Also, I've been making whole-wheat piecrusts the last several years, which are slightly more temperamental (less gluten, and all that).

What I have  learned is that it's better not to fear the piecrust (or the reaper, but that's another matter); go ahead and touch it and add too much water or too much fat or not enough flour: screw up and learn from it. A tentative approach to crust, I fear, will not pay off.

That being said, I absolutely abhor f-ing up piecrsuts, and I seem to do it with regularity. Take last night, for example...

This evening, I want to make a surprise apple pie for my father (but it won't be surprise in a hour or so, when I lug my pie accoutrement to my sister's, where he's staying, and start peeling apples), so last night, I prepared the crust. Although I usually don't think ahead and do this, it's good to prepare the pie dough in advance, so it has ample time to chill and rest. This is particularly the case with whole-grain flours.

I chose a whole-wheat crust recipe from the King Arthur Flour Whole-Grain Baking cookbook (oddly, I've had the book for a few years but hadn't tried this recipe yet). The whole book, and it's a good one, is based on the premise that there are many more grains out there than white all-purpose flour, and that using whole grains in recipes requires adjustments that go beyond simply substituting them for the white flour called for in a given recipe.

(the Northern Spy apple looks totally photoshopped in--but it isn't.)

[this concludes part the first. I need to get going on said pie!]

Lemon Bars

I baked some lemon bars last night, for a fund-raising event for a good cause (hey--why not give them some money??).

Ah, lemon-flavored desserts: a good one can arouse the tastebuds, while a bad one puts you in mind of cough drops and floor cleaner, and turns you off for years. I was not a fan for the longest time, having had one too many artificially flavored lemon desserts as a child, or ones that were all bitterness and pith and no tart lemony brightness. The lemon cream-cheese cookies my mother started making for Christmas turned me around: a lot of real lemon juice, and no artificial flavoring in sight.

Last night was my first stab at crafting lemon bars, so recipe research was in order. Would it be Ina Garten's recipe, Southern Living's "Luscious Lemon Bars," or the "Lemon Squares" recipe (linked is a version written for kids) from Martha Stewart's Cookies?

Martha won, and here's why: Ina's recipe, although it does call for a hearty cup of lemon juice, uses a cup of flour for the filling, which, it seemed, would make too "doughy" a filling, and also called for 3 cups of sugar (too sweet!). Southern Living's recipe was too light on the lemon juice (only 1/3 cup) and too heavy on the sugar (2 cups). Martha's recipe, to quote Goldilocks, was "just right": a goodly amount of juice (3/4 cup), not too much flour (4T), and not too much sugar (1 1/3 C).


After sanitizing countertops with a vinegar/water solution, I donned this apron (home-sewn by Izzy, who passed away last winter at a ripe old age) and got crack-a-lackin'.

Here are a couple things I learned along the way:

• Grating frozen butter (which the recipe calls for) is both fun and practical: a good way for the butter to stay cold as it is being incorporated into a pastry dough
• For bar cookies whose top/filling starts out liquid and and firms during baking, it is important to have a level oven. (Well, in general this is important—I remember my grandmother complaining about how her kitchen floor—specifically, the floor under the range—wasn't level.) I knew my stove wasn't level from the way olive oil/butter/ghee would slide to one side of the skillet.
  
  My options, therefore, were to have lopsided lemon bars, or to try to coax the filling evenly over the crust. I opted for the latter, sloshing filling to the opposite side of the pan when the bars were half-baked, and the results were not pretty!

Not unlike a lunar surface....

Fortunately, powdered sugar covers all manner of blemish, and the finish products (dainty 2" X 2" squares) turned out looking all right. In my haste to pack them up and refrigerate them, however, I failed to take a picture (what a shaggy-dog post!), but I will try to remember to take one after I deliver them this afternoon and arrange them on trays.

Of course, there were a few bars whose uneven complexion didn't make the cut, and there was some crust to be trimmed, so I had the pleasure of sampling my wares, and they were pucker-licious: not too sweet, and, with the addition of the powdered sugar on top, not too tart.

I recommend the recipe for those who enjoy zesty lemon flavor.

Hello. Come in.

I am a single, ornery, and reclusive cat owner; I am a spinster.

I revel in baking, sewing, making things out of felt, and giving gifts; I am a homemaker.

I am a creatively underchallenged writer; I have started a blog.

Put them all together and you have this, whatever "this" turns out to be.....

(I am fond of the ellipsis.)

Thank you for stopping by, and please come again.