I have a best friend. On here I call her Muffin.
Muffin has a history with illness; a much more storied, dangerous, and exacting one than mine. Our friendship began when our bodies were strong and our spirits unstoppable. We’re so thankful now that we were reckless, and lived dangerously and fully back then. Now we’re so careful, so precise, and so used to premeditating physical complications and energy black holes. This recipe is from her, and for her.
Years ago, I was an avid blogger.
I had a network of talented bakers that I interacted with regularly, was part of baking circles and recipe swaps, and eagerly combed through various websites on a constant basis every morning. I loved blogging, and I’m thankful for what it brought into my life. Like the chance to make some new virtual friends and occasionally write a recipe for their wildly successful blogs.
I’ve been spending a good amount of time observing the shifting in the seasons, lately. I take Mitra out every morning and take in the weight of the clothes I’m adding on, the chill of the frost on the grass when I’m in my dad’s backyard, or the whip of the wind off of the Hudson River when I’m home in New York. I stare at how the sun blasts up the luminosity of green leaves while dozing in my hammock, and the first touches of gold as I drive the Merritt Parkway back to the city again. The shadows on the brick outside my building seem a tad muted, now, and I know soon there will be only trunks sketched on them, their branches bare and trembling.
But I love this time of year, the duality of it. At the local market the apples have taken their first sign of crispness and cold, while the peaches soften and bruise next to them. Last week I made a gingerbread cake with pears for a sunny social event, and I’ve already clipped my crop of herbs and stuck jars of gremolata in my freezer to get me through the winter.
But then… there are still peaches.
For my Valentines... love Jacqueline
Shy confessions, Bloggereaders,
Valentines Day is not a huge marker in my book. For the majority of those 10+ years Ruark and I went in and out with celebrating depending, honestly, if we felt like it or not. We had started dating when we were so young, and found plenty of moments to show each other how we felt. And in general I’m not a big fan of commercially-fueled tokens. Two years ago the man I was with was away for work and had his friend stop by with a huge bouquet at the theatre I was working at. Last year new boyfriend and I had no plans until mid-morning, when he called where I was out of town working and sweetly said, “I’m thinking it’s Valentines Day and you’re my Valentine, so we should be together tonight”. I trained it back to NYC.
So this year, being single, I’ve been more contemplative about the love in my life in general. Not at all mournful, just reflective. I have so much love, so many people I’m surrounded by who have full, generous hearts, that I feel more in love than ever.
Oh, the 3rd point up there? A few months ago I had to develop a gluten-free recipe for Valentine Cake Pops for Easy Eats. Two weeks ago I made 75 chocolate chip and lemon zest cake pops in the shape of Winnie the Pooh honey pots for a baby shower. They were cute, but not as adorable as I’d wanted them to be for the mom-to-be. And they took me eight hours! Lastly, for the first Milk Bar Mondays swap last week I made Carrot Cake Truffles, which are essentially cake balls (and one of my favorite super-sweet recipes).
In the beginning of this road with cake pops, I was often cursing, whining, or whinging. But the result of all the frustration?
Moments of joy this morning as I deftly baked, blended, dipped, flipped and formed these truffles. I had some cake I’d been experimenting with (a new flour blend), some leftover liquid cheesecake, some bags of chocolate and lots of fun things to toss truffles in. I found myself smiling in the silence of my kitchen, thinking about those I’d be wrapping and gifting these for. They look so cute all ribboned up. And, they were actually pretty easy. I enjoyed making them.
While made of cake, these truffles taste a bit more ganache-y because of how dark, rich and buttery they are. I tossed them in ground walnuts, dark cocoa powder, raw cacao nibs, and some candy hearts I had leftover from the Easy Eats recipe. It was a very romantic morning in my kitchen. I was in love with the natural light pouring through my windows and my ancient camera that was snapping away.
I hope you have a lovely Valentines Day, Bloggerreaders. But more than that, I wish you much peace, love and sweet, sweet life… always.
– Jacqueline
Freshly rolled truffles
Makes about 30 truffles
For the cake:
For the Truffles:
I heart you Bloggerreaders
How time does fly!
This recipe is from 2011, and it’s still one of the most popular ones on this site. It produces a quick, thick creme brulee that’s great for beginners. Want something a touch above? Try my updated version with Chef Joe Murphy as part of my Pro Pastry, Gluten (and dairy!) Free series.
And for the adorable original text, scroll below the recipe.
Happy torching!
– Jacqueline
Crunchy crust and lightly lemon scented biscuits
This recipe made FoodBuzz’s Top 9 on December 29th! Thanks for all the buzzing love!
Preheat oven to 300° F. Set a pot or kettle full of water on to boil.
In a medium bowl whisk eggs, egg yolk, sugar and vanilla until creamy and smooth. Add coconut milk and blend until smooth.
Pour into ramekins.
Place in ceramic baking dish and pour hot water until it comes halfway up the ramekins.
Bake for about 40 minutes, until just slightly jiggly in the middle.
Cool until ready to serve or chill until cold. When ready, sprinkle with about 2 tsp white sugar and torch until crispy and brown.
Notes: It’s a bit dense. I based the recipe on one that used lemon to cut the thickness. But unlike some other dairy-free creme brulee recipes you won’t have to worry about it not setting. While I was totally pleased with this turnout, you could probably omit one yolk and still find success.
Also, HERE’S THE TORCH I HAVE. You’ll use it more than you think you will. Charring marshmallows and browning meringue are just two fun things…
Life is delicious. After a packed weekend of family and amazing food and lit fires and lots of hugging, I sat back at a desk Monday morning, worked the day away, then packed Mitra and my Christmas loot into my little blue Subaru and booked it back to NYC. Because I had a guest coming over. A man. Who was cooking me dinner.
I’m not the easiest person to cook for, having this whole gluten and dairy free diet thing. My last two boyfriends were great eaters and practically non-existent cooks (Ruark, three bf’s ago, makes a meat sauce to die for). Being domestically bent, I easily fall into the role of kitchen wizard (so a friend once called me) in relationships. I now have a “no cooking for you before the 4th date rule” (a loose rule, but there nonetheless). So a guy offering to come to my place to cook on our second date… was a first.
(Side note: I’m getting distracted writing up this post because there’s a horrible holiday movie my roommate recorded playing and while it’s truly wretched Mark-Paul Gosselaar is a-DOR-able. Definitely aging well.)
While I made some fancy cocktails (ginger ale, fresh sweet lime and zested ginger with bourbon for me and vodka for him), date man made us an incredible dinner. Flavorful, tasty, relaxed, and much appreciated. I made dessert. A dairy-free creme brulee with loads of vanilla and a perfectly torched crust.
We didn’t end up eating it. Cocktails with neighbors led to a late evening and full bellies. So tonight my under-slept self enjoyed the crap outta it while watching Mad Men (and said horrible/adorable Christmas movie) and cuddling the dog. Neighbors upstairs got the rest. It’s dense and just sweet enough, with the perfect little crunch. Using vanilla bean gives it an incredible punch. I’ve so missed creme brulee, and now I’m satiated.
Let me know if you make it, who you share it with, how you adapt it, and what you think.
Cheers to second dates, Christmases full of goodness, Mad Men, and little dogs.
Gluten-Free, Milk-Free Gingerbread
Years ago I inherited a gingerbread recipe that sent my taste-buds flying. It was a dear friend’s mom’s, and I remember the first time I made it for a group of friends. Back then, I was relatively unfamiliar with basic cake techniques, and the idea of “starting and ending with dry” seemed practically scientific.
The cake got raves. But after that first time, I couldn’t eat it. My milk allergies had gotten worse.
Fast forward ten years later and I made the recipe my own. I think actual ginger-bread is too often overlooked in favor of its cookie-d cousins. Which, trust me, I enjoy thoroughly. But there’s something so homey and warm and New England holiday about it that I particularly love.
Substitution ingredients are below, but this blend of ingredients produced a moist, perfectly sweet, highly-spiced cake that I ate way too much of as soon as it was cool enough to slice.
Notes: I used butter, but not milk, substituting with unsweetened almond milk. To make completely dairy-free, substitute the melted butter with melted butter-flavored Earth Balance. You can use regular all-purpose flour (2 cups) if you don’t have gluten problems, or substitute with a gluten-free mix of your own. I use less xanthan gum in this recipe than you might expect – if you want to omit completely, just add 1 Tbsp of flax meal.
Another time I made this recipe I used 1 cup white rice, 1/2 cup tapioca, 1/2 cup sorghum and 1/4 cup millet and it worked well too!
Top with unsweetened coconut milk whipped cream for a special holiday treat!
Decorate with sifted powdered sugar and whipped cream (either cow cream or coconut milk are delish!)
Toll House Chocolate Almond Biscotti
It’s Burwell General Store Recipe Swap time again! And a holiday swap at that!
Quick catch-up for newcomers: About 13 months ago Christianna over at Burwell General Store started a recipe swap with Lindsay of Rosemarried, where she gives a recipe to a group of bloggers and we all change at least 3 things about the recipe. With the coming of the second year we’re now a group of about 25 bloggers and just changed over to our second book, “The Second Ford Treasury of Favorite Recipes from Famous Eating Places”. While I’ve cherished “All Day Singin and Dinner on the Ground”, there’s something momentous about changing books. The swap has been one of my favorite discoveries since starting this blog, and I look forward every month to seeing what the group has come up with, as well as connecting regularly on what’s inspiring us in and out of the kitchen. Check out their posts on the little frog link below, and my Recipe Swap category for more!
New year, new book!
This month, with the craziness of the holidays, Christianna gave us something classic: the Toll House Cookie. I got all mushy and sentimental when I saw the recipe. Because for as long as my little dusty heart can remember my mother has kept her recipes, in bits and pieces, in a Toll House recipe book. Its plastic brown cover contains so many recipes that we played with over the years, and many that are still favorites in our family. Before the internet food world, before this blog, before I knew of single-origin chocolates, the science of baking gluten free, and became what some people might call a “food snob”, there was that book.
December's recipe: look at the adorable bit of history!
One of my favorites as a youngster was my momma’s biscotti. Crisp and full of mini chips, she made several variations for her abundant plate of holiday cookies. As I had to gluten free myself, she started adapting some of the recipes. Or, at least, she tried. It was sort of a running joke for a while between my siblings and I that she would attempt to make foods that I could eat, and then upon running down a list of ingredients she’d slap her head and go, “ah, sh*t!”. Including the first time or two she made me “gluten and dairy free” biscotti; then realized she used regular chocolate chips.
But, as I did, she practiced and learned. And now hers is one of the few houses I can go to and know I will eat, and I will eat well.
Mom and the Dusty sibs, Christmas 2009
So I wanted to take this classic Toll House Cookie recipe and make it into a biscotti. And while no other biscotti will ever give me the same satisfaction as one made by my mom, these are pretty perfect. Crispy, flavored with almond, perfect for dunking in sweet wine (an Italian recently told me that’s the way to do it), coffee or a glass of chilled almond milk (or cow, for you lucky dairy people!).
Happy Holidays, Swappers. And, thanks, mom. I love ya more than my luggage (10 cookies if you name that movie).
Mom and me at the end of the Twin Cities Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure!
Oh, and mom, if you read this… Christmas is coming… hint hint. And yours, please, not mine.
– Jacqueline, The DB
Makes 18, Adapted from the Toll House Cookie and Toll House Biscotti recipes, with some dusty love.
Notes: I grew up with denser, harder biscotti, so to replicate that I baked the roll until it was slightly underdone, then cut and toasted it. If you want yours crispier and a bit drier, bake completely before toasting. I’ve made this recipe both ways with success. Also, you can swap so many things in and out of this recipes: try cranberries, dried fruits, other nuts, go wild!
Preheat oven to 325°. Line a baking sheet with parchment or Silpat, or lightly grease.
Pour almonds on a second, dry, sheet and toast in the oven while preparing the biscotti. Check occasionally so they don’t burn, and remove when slightly golden in color. (They will look all pale one second and like Troy after the horse in the next, so keep a close eye. A toaster oven works too.)
In a medium bowl combine flours, gum, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Set aside.
In the bowl of a mixer with the whisk attachment, beat butter and sugars until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes, scraping down the bowl occasionally. Add eggs one at a time, beat to incorporate. Beat in vanilla and almond extracts. With the mixer on slow, add flour and beat to combine, increasing speed to incorporate. Mix in nuts and chocolate chips.
With floured hands, roll into a 12-inch log and place on prepared sheet (or longer if you want smaller cookies). Round top slightly. Bake for 35-40 minutes, or until cracked on top and slightly firm. It shouldn’t be cooked completely, so the center should seem a tad underdone.
Remove to cooling rack and cool for at least 10 minutes. Slice into into 1/2 inch slices and gently slide onto cookie sheet, cut side down. They will be a bit crumbly, so use a spatula to gently flip them on the sheet. Bake for another 15-20 minutes or until crisp and brown. Cool completely before serving.
Enjoy with or give to someone you love!
6 Chocolate Chip Cookies... the whole batch.
When I first moved to NYC, I lived in Manhattan with three guys I graduated college with. After that apartment, my boyfriend of the time lived with two other dudes down in Brooklyn, and I’d stay with them often. For a while after that the boyfriend and I lived in Queens, and his brother crashed with us for a few months. When I wasn’t home during those raucus years of my twenties, I’d be going from show to show with casts full of eager eaters.
The point of that little history: I always had someone around to eat the batches of sweets I whipped up.
But now I’m a single gal, and my roommate doesn’t contribute enough by far in helping me rid the apartment of all things that come out of my kitchen. I pawn sweets off on my upstairs neighbors after walking our dogs, while we have a glass of wine or talk food (love the chefs in my building). But what I don’t give away, I eat. Which means no matter how few I eat, I still eat too many. For someone who’s 5 foot 2 and has hypoglycemia and gains weight easily.
Sometimes you don’t need three dozen cookies staring at you while typing an article about Third Wave Feminism (after having come out of the kitchen barefoot and covered in flour) or while watching Bored to Death or The Next Iron Chef: Super Chefs (which you should be watching if you’re not…). You just need a few.
So here’s how to do just that. How to make just 6 gluten-free chocolate chip cookies. That are rich, and sweet, with just enough chocolate and a boost of flax (both for fiber and to bind the cookies together since we’re not using eggs), and a bit of extra protein from some nuts (optional, of course).
When you don’t want a whole batch but are craving something sweet…
Preheat oven to 350°.
Combine flour, flax, xanthan gum, salt and baking powder in a small bowl.
In the bowl of a mixer, beat butter and sugar until fluffy and smooth – about 2 minutes.
Add molasses and beat to combine.
Add the flour mixture in a beat on low until together. Continue to beat on high for about 2 minutes.
Add the chocolate chips and nuts and beat in to combine.
Use your hands to proportion 6 cookies, and place evenly on cookie sheets, flattening slightly.
Bake for 18 minutes, cool slightly before serving.
Notes: make sure you beat this batter well so that the butter softens completely and the sugars dissolve in, otherwise your cookies will flatten horribly. I used organic white sugar, which melts better than palm or sucanat in this recipe.
Happy Birthday to Ruark!
By the time this post goes live, I will be in the middle of no where in Vermont, most likely freezing and huddled over a campfire, stirring something warm and sweet. My phone and computer will literally be held captive by my father in Connecticut. And most likely I will have spent the weekend breathing deeply, doing yoga on boulders, racing ATVs through the trails, and watching my city pup scamper amongst the trees.
Meanwhile, back in New York City, my dear friend Ruark will be turning 31 years old.
I’ve known Ruark for 12 years now: for over 8 of those years we were an item. In a stroke of divine blessing, we have remained incredibly close since breaking up 2 years ago when I chose to move to Cincinnati for a year to work, a split we both desired. Because of the distance, we were able to comfort each other through the breakup, through my living in a new city, through our apartment being a tad emptier without me. He visited me once out there, and every time I flew home (8 times I believe), I saw him. His father lives in Cincinnati, and it was comforting to have this friend and father-figure so close by.
Ruark's 30th bday, 2010
We were tight with each other’s families: I learned how to make scones from his father, pie crust from his Auntie, and his mother’s gingerbread is one of the best things I have ever tasted. They gave me my Kitchenaid and countless beautiful platters and pie plates and tablecloths and things our 20-something selves couldn’t afford. Ruark is an incredible cook, spotless in his technique, and between the two of us we ate very well and threw some incredible parties. He makes one of the best meat sauces I have ever tasted. We both still marvel at how much we love duck.
On top of that, Ruark and I have seen each other through so many ups and downs, one taking care of the other as needed. To the point now that we still support each other in new relationships, in new work endeavors, and will drop any doubt or judgment when one of us says to the other “I just really need you to be my friend on this right now”.
Talk about lucky.
Whenever I come to Ruark with a revelation – in this case how I don’t really know how to relax anymore – he’ll usually point out, “Jax, you’ve always been this way. Remember when…”.
When I first set eyes on him, my first few days in college, I knew our relationship would be something special. But I never thought that over a decade later I could know someone so well, or love a friend so much.
Happy Birthday, Ruark. You’re something beyond special.
– “Jabadine”
This recipe is adapted from Best of the Best from New England Cookbook. Eaters were a huge fan of the flavor, but the cake completely crumbled when I eased it from the pans. Hence why one half was salvaged and given to my Poppa for his birthday and the other smushed into cake balls for Ruark’s. Because of the crumbliness it worked well, but the high amount of oil wasn’t a huge yay factor for me. I had thought white chocolate would be a better match (I can’t eat it so I don’t really know), but my roommate and Ruark both confirmed that dark would be the best way to go, grounding the sweetness in the cake itself. I’m putting the recipe up as I think it’s a great one for experienced bakers to look at and adapt. I hope if you make it you’ll come back with tips for me!
Preheat oven to 325° and grease 2 9-inch cake pans.
In a large bowl, mix vegetable oil and sugar and beat well on high, about 3 minutes. Add the eggs and beat to combine.
Sift all dry ingredients, and add to the wet mixture.
Fold in the raisins and carrots.
Pour into pans and bake for one hour, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean.
Cool completely, then mix with 1 cup vegan cream cheese frosting. Leave in fridge overnight to chill.
When ready to assemble, roll into 1-inch balls and place on wax paper lined baking sheets. Freeze for one hour to firm.
Melt chocolate slowly over a double boiler and quickly roll all cake balls in chocolate, setting back on sheets to firm.
Cabernet Carob Cake with Vegan Blackcurrant "Cream Cheese" Frosting
I ate the crap outta this cake for days. It was a recipe that kept morphing: I wanted something chocolaty, a cross between a brownie and a cake. I was craving blackcurrant in everything for some reason. And I was digging throwing multiple textures around.
But then I decided to not go with chocolate. Chocolate, while I love it, has a lot of caffeine in it. And carob, its under-acclaimed cousin, contains no caffeine. It’s also high in fiber, has a decent amount of protein, and has one third the calories and half the fat of chocolate. And it’s incredibly high in antioxidants.
It’s also naturally sweet, meaning you use less additional sweetener in baked goods!
So in this I used 8 Tbsp of carob and 2 Tbsp of cocoa, to give the cake an incredible depth. Layers of blackcurrant jam and vegan blackcurrant “cream cheese” frosting packed an incredible punch. And a sprinkling of slivered raw almonds added the crunch I was craving.
The gluten-free flour blend was pushed along by the addition of 2 tablespoons of Cabernet wine flour. It’s an uncommon one – sort of hard to find online. Made out of the skins of grapes, it’s a bit grainy and offers an aftertaste that can be a bit sour, which is why 2 tablespoons is the top I’d go in a delicate cake recipe.
I then slathered it with my vegan Blackcurrant “Cream Cheese” Frosting.
The result: an incredibly rich combination of currant and carob, dynamic and layered.
I literally ate it for days. And kept piling the frosting on top of anything I could find to go with it.
Make this. And enjoy.
The Dusty Baker 