Mixed Berry Shortcakes with Lemon Mascarpone Cream

I suppose you could convince me there is a dessert that typifies summer more than shortcake, and you might be able to string me along for a while before I came to my senses to explain delicately that, at least to me,  not much else can compete.

My shortcake memories go back years, but they always begin the same:  with a biscuit.  Not a slice of angel food cake, or pound cake.  A lowly biscuit.  One that, if you’re me,  would normally be found on a plate filled with beans, rice, and coleslaw.  That kind of biscuit.  The one that not much else can compare to when it comes to soaking up juice and binding everything together, whether it’s dessert or not.

Sure, I’ve tried a variety of recipes, combinations of flavors and ingredients, but in the end I’m only truly satisfied with that slightly salty bite of biscuit and the tart sweetness of fresh berries tempered by the richness of cream.  It’s fabulous.

Recently, my husband surprised me with Thomas Keller’s latest book, ad hoc at home.  He’d heard that the man himself would be visiting a local Williams-Sonoma so decided to wait on his lunch hour in a rather lengthy line to get Keller’s signature for me.  Not only was I touched by the gesture, I couldn’t wait to dig into the recipes.

You know what it’s like to get a new cookbook.  You leaf through the pages, savoring each possibility, wondering what might measure up to your expectations without killing yourself on the first attempt:  buttermilk fried chicken…rubbed and glazed pork spareribs…iceberg lettuce slices…No, it was the buttermilk biscuits that got my attention first.  I have to admit I did go back to the iceberg lettuce slices (you have to try his Blue Cheese Dressing), but the biscuits are what I first settled down to make knowing instantly they were destined for berry shortcakes.

Think about it.  They’re perfect for the picnic of all summer picnics — July 4th.  You make them the day before, cool them completely before sealing their crispy freshness away so you can split them and then dollop on some cream and berries that have had a chance to sit for a while to develop a lovely, syrupy juice.

There is an art to this if you want to take some time with it, and if you’d like to consider another ingredient you may never have tried before which is perfect with berries, try mascarpone.  I’m partial to mascarpone, so when I saw that Keller included it in a recipe for peaches and cream, I had to try it giving it my own spin, of course.

If you’re thinking that it may not travel well, think again.  With a few recycled jars filled and kept in an ice chest, you’ll be able to turn out the perfect summer dessert for your July 4th holiday, courtesy of inspiration from Thomas Keller, of course.

133/365:  Autograph

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“Pasteria” with Balsamic Strawberries and Basil

I love ricotta, but I’ve never had truly fresh ricotta, so I decided to make my own.  It requires very little time, no special equipment, and few ingredients, so I was able to prepare it one evening, then drain it over night for use the next day.  I had no idea what I might make with it once it was finished, but that’s the story of my life right now.  How bad could it be to simply nibble on fresh ricotta sprinkled with sea salt and perhaps a drizzle of fruity extra virgin olive oil?  Of course, sprinkling it over a nice salad could be fabulous as well.  Perfectly simple, right?

Simple seems never to be in my repertoire.

With less than a week until Easter and no real plans for a holiday meal in the works, I decided to look for dessert recipes that included ricotta and almost immediately found quite a few for a traditional Easter Pie, or in some cases, Pasteria.  It’s like a cheesecake, but it’s made with ricotta and grain.  Although the grain is most often wheat, some recipes use rice.  Others are made with a crust and latticed top — but some are completely without either — and leave it to me to make one in the least traditional way possible, lacking crust, wheat, and candied fruit.

This small dessert is perfect for spring, or when berries are at their best.

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Olive Oil Carrot Cake

Carrot Cake

67/365:  Cake

I can’t remember the first time I had carrot cake, but I’m sure it wasn’t until I was well into my adult years.  It’s strange now that I think about it because my mother used to make a mean carrot salad.  The basic ingredients aren’t all that different except for the mayonnaise she’d dollop in the huge bowl of grated carrots and raisins before stirring in some sugar, and I’ll bet I can find more than one recipe for carrot cake that calls for mayo, too.  Mind you, this would be much to the complete horror of my husband who steers clear of anything that suggests mayo is an ingredient.

Other than cheesecake or an occasional pineapple upside down cake made in a skillet, my mother’s cakes came from a box, as did mine for years.  Can carrot cake actually be made from a box mix?  Perhaps that’s why I don’t remember ever tasting one.  I could blame it on family members more inclined to request chocolate cake:  chocolate peanut butter, German chocolate, and even a chocolate mint cake that unfortunately reminded more than one of us of toothpaste.  Sadly, there were no requests for carrot cake.

In the years since, I’ve learned that everyone seems to have made carrot cake but me and relies upon a favorite recipe.  I, on the other hand, have only made it twice:  the first time, I used a good friend’s recipe (sans the crushed pineapple she says she never adds) which was delicious;  the second time, I decided to look for a recipe that was made with olive oil.  Most of the recipes I’ve considered use from 3/4 to 1-1/2 cups of oil, so if  oil is going into a cake, why not make it monosaturated?

Perhaps it might soothe concerns about butter, mascarpone and sugar as one bites into this fabulously luscious cake.

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California Cuties: Citrus Tian Dessert

Blood Orange Tian

It’s nearly April, and with Spring having done its annual thing, the Acer on my patio is finally beginning to leaf out, I’ve replenished my sadly neglected herb box, and it seems everything is in riotous bloom.  The season has had a positive effect on me as well, because I actually completed a Daring Bakers Challenge within respectable time of its March 27 reveal date.  Will wonders never cease?

The 2010 March Daring Baker’s challenge was hosted by Jennifer of Chocolate Shavings. She chose Orange Tian as the challenge for this month, a dessert based on a recipe from Alain Ducasse’s Cooking School in Paris.  Oh the possibilities for this particular challenge.

If you’ve not heard of a tian before, it’s a layered dessert comprised of a pate sablee, marmalade, flavored whipped cream and fruit — and in the case of this month’s challenge — oranges.  Living in the Golden State, or Southern California in particular, citrus is plentiful.  At this time of year, there are  lemons, Meyer lemons, Persian limes, key limes, pink grapefruit, yellow grapefruit, cara oranges (they’re pink inside), Valencia oranges, blood oranges, and Cuties.

Cuties are California mandarins.  They’re tiny, compact orbs of sweet, segmented deliciousness — especially if you want something for a healthy snack.  And since they were on sale at Henry’s, I decided they’d become the base of my dessert.  Thanks very much to Jennifer for this challenge.  A tian is a dessert that can be made ahead of time in parts, then assembled right before you’d like to enjoy it.

Wait — have you ever made marmalade?

Ah, well.  Therein lies the rub.

Cuties
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Meyer Lemon and Blackberry Chiffon Pie

In the months before my youngest was born, my mother suggested to my husband and I that she live with us to care for the baby after I returned to work.  We’d been looking for a larger house since my two older boys were on the verge of their teen years, and adding a third child meant room to stretch would be important for us all.  She knew I wasn’t looking forward to leaving the baby with a caregiver, and was growing tired of her own job, the hours it required, and the physical pain it caused her.  My husband is a far more easy going person than I could ever be, so he agreed and we changed the focus of our search to a home with four or five bedrooms instead of three.

We happened on to the perfect house one day by misreading the directions I’d written down.  An open house was just concluding and the realtors were preparing to leave.  We thought it looked perfect from the outside, but as soon as we entered — all heading in different directions — we were convinced.  It had only one owner in its 40 year history and was unique in so many ways.  Tucked into a hillside on a half acre shaped like a slice of pie, it faced east and overlooked the mature trees in the valley.  The back property hadn’t been cared for in years, but was a wealth of possibilities;  apricot, plum, tangerine, orange, grapefruit, loquat, and nut trees filled the space. It was perfect.

The year we moved in, the winter rains were especially heavy.  Slowly, the parched hillside turned green and bulbs planted years before began to push through layers of fallen leaves.  Sprigs of grape vines and berry bushes also appeared.  Saturday mornings before sunrise, the baby would wake earlier than I wanted, but it allowed us both some time alone.  With a bottle in his hands and coffee in one of mine, we’d walk up the hill in the early quiet of the day to see what new surprise we might find, finally growing after so many years of neglect. I loved that house.

Our trees often produced more than we could enjoy, so after freezer jam had been made, berries frozen, juice made, and sweets baked, we’d pack it up and set it down by the street with a “Free” sign.  It rarely took long for passers by to stop and help themselves to the produce, emptying the buckets we’d carry back up the hill to fill again.

Now, I have to depend on the market for most of what we used to give away, but I have learned recently of many organizations involved in gleaning urban fruit for a variety of purposes.  Whether it’s to gather and donate to those in need, or pluck and enjoy to keep it from rotting on the ground, interest in urban fruit foraging is gathering momentum as we all begin to think more responsibly about food.

I was gifted a big bag of Meyer lemons not too long ago, so had to pair them with the blackberries showing up at the market.  The berries will never compare with those we picked on our hill, but until I find them growing wild in San Diego, I’ll have to be tolerant — or do without.

But then, there is this pie…

76/365:  Blackberries

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Blueberry Lemon Scones

Blueberries

This past Christmas, my husband’s sister had the idea to surprise their parents with a trip to England.  For as long as I’ve known my dear father-in-law, he’s wanted to travel there, so it took little effort to consider cashing in our points, and settling in to plan.  It’s been several years since our first trip there, and it remains the only place where I’ve vacationed that I didn’t want to leave.  Although we barely saw London that trip, we did manage to cover about 750 miles driving through Devonshire, Wales, and the Cotswolds.  My husband’s white-knuckled grip never completely adjusted to the need to drive on the opposite side of the road, but we did find maneuvering the roundabouts hilarious after a time, rarely missing a turn off when one was called for.  Although it was equally terrifying to be the navigator on the trip at times, I was more likely to enjoy endless views of rolling green hills and quaint villages, each more picturesque than the last.

As much as we think of scones being breakfast fare here, we only had them once on our trip, and not for breakfast.  We happened into a small restaurant just before closing time in Harlech, Wales, after a day of sightseeing and castle exploration.  We had some tiny scones and other treats with the cream tea the staff was kind enough to serve even though they’d clearly finished for the day.  It was a perfect break considering we’d come from Conwy, in Northern Wales,  early that morning, and were headed to Milebrook House near Knighton on the English border, about 100 km away.  It’s funny to think about now, and I refer to it as Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, but it wasn’t humorous at the time.

Hopefully, the trip I’m planning this time won’t be as hectic.  It should help to have a spry, natty octogenarian with us.

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