sunday market menu

I'll try to add a few pics here later, but here's Sunday's market menu--early!


Macarons:
almond (customer request--if you have a flavor, just let me know!)
vanilla chai
chocolate
strawberry
ginger rhubarb


Tartelettes:
Maple Meringue--Happy Canada Day!
Strawberry w/ pink peppercorn meringue
Rhubarb flan w/ graham streusel
Strawberry chocolate


Misc.:
Kouign Amann
strawberry jellies
pithiviers


I'll also have three kinds of jam: rhubarb, strawberry, and strawberry w/ mint and black pepper. Hope to see you at the market!

strawberry whiskey granita

Today was just one of those days. Good thing I had strawberry granita ready to eat in my freezer. Cold, fresh, and especially good topped with a bit of whiskey. I got the strawberry/ whiskey idea from Larousse des Desserts, my favorite new cookbook which is both teaching me French and better dessert-making skills. The strawberry-whiskey granita there is fresh strawberries topped with a whiskey granita. That would be good too, I'm sure. The coolness of icy ripe strawberries with a splash of whiskey (ok, maybe more than a splash) was just what I needed today, a day when I spent the afternoon in my un-airconditioned kitchen making jam, with the hot afternoon sun blazing through the window. (Not that I'm complaining about the heat, mind you, after the long Ottawa winter). The beauty of granita is that it's entirely simple: fruit, water, sugar.

Strawberry Granita
2 pounds or so of strawberries, rinsed and hulled
1/4-1/2 cup of sugar, depending on sweetness of berries and preference
1 cup water
whiskey, to taste


Macerate the strawberries with the sugar for an hour or so. Puree the strawberries with water until smooth. Strain the strawberry puree to remove seeds (or skip this step if you don't mind seeds). Taste the puree and add more sugar if you'd like. Pour the puree in an 8-10 inch pan (with high sides--2" plus) and put in freezer. After an hour, rake through the mix with a fork to break up forming ice crystals. Do this again every half hour or so until the puree is a lovely, flaky ice. If you forget to do this scraping as I tend to do, no worries. Once the strawberry puree is completely frozen, just let it sit at room temperature until slightly softened and then scrape through the mix with a fork to create the flaky granita. Spoon into a glass, top with a bit of whisky (or not) and enjoy.

By the way, I have to say something about my piggy glass in the picture. It's a shot glass with one small pig for the "ladies" pour and one large pig for the "gentlemen" pour. Once, on a backpacking trip with my dad and his buddies we stopped at a restaurant that had ladies and gents portions. I was outraged, so I ordered the gents portion. All of the men had to subsequently change their ladies' orders to gents. Ridiculous. This shot glass is ridiculous too, but I just can't help loving it. And, of course, I always take the gentleman's pour.

market menu

If you're stopping by the booth tomorrow, here's what's on the menu:

Macarons (only four flavors this week):

• Cardamon w/ rosewater buttercream--back by popular demand
• Maple Pecan
• Gianduja
• Strawberry Rhubarb

Tarts (most of these minis):

• honey mint
• strawberry w/ goat's milk pastry cream
• rhubarb meringue
• chocolate walnut

Lemon cake, kouign aman, and pithivier.


And finally, strawberry marshmallows and maybe strawberry pate de fruits.

--Will took a few pics at the market, so I thought I'd post them.

strawberry marshmallows

It's probably sacrilege to devote any of the season's first sweet, ripe, local strawberries to something other than a simple tart or eating right out of hand--especially when the beginning of strawberry season is so late around here--but I couldn't resist these marshmallows. I've been waiting for strawberries to arrive just to make these marshmallows; the recipe is in Dorie Greenspan's Paris Sweets, a new cookbook for me. (You can find a version of Greenspan's marshmallows here; just scroll down a ways. For the strawberry, fold in 1/3 cup of strawberry puree and 1 tsp. orange flower water at the end).

I made sure to buy an excess of strawberries at last week's market to ensure that I could make jam, tarts, and these lovelies. They are made in typical marshmallow fashion with egg whites, sugar, and gelatin, but strawberry puree and orange flower water are folded in at the end to produce an ethereal, aromatic treat. Luscious seems the wrong description for a marshmallow, but these are most definitely so. In the cookbook, these are a finishing element to a strawberry tart, a concoction I was skeptical of. After tasting these, I get it. They would be perfect combined with pate sucree and richly glazed strawberries.

For now, though, I'm just eating them out of hand and hoping that a few will make it to Sunday's market.

sunday's market menu

I had plans for a longer post, but the kitchen gods seem to be testing me at the moment. Since I need to get back to wrangling them, I'll quickly give you tomorrow's menu. Cross your fingers for sunny skies tomorrow!

Apple tarts w/ spelt crust
Rhubarb puff pastry tarts
Chocolate strawberry cake
Pithiviers
Kouign amann

Macarons:
lemon mint
chocolate
apple cinnamon
coffee
cardamon

apple and rhubarb pates de fruits

rhubarb jam and strawberry jam w/ mint and black pepper--jam sold out quickly last week, so stop by early!

seed cake

My childhood culinary education at home was pretty limited. Food at our house was a very utilitarian affair. Healthy and filling, but not terribly inventive or varied. Even though there wasn't much culinary excitement in the kitchen, we did have a good cookbook collection because my mom's sister was a prop stylist who mainly worked on cookbooks. She would always send my mom copies of her latest project. My mom would browse through the books and put them on the shelf, where they never got used. I loved looking through these books, imagining what the creations must taste like, wishing my parents would try some of them out. One of these lonely cookbooks was some type of American heritage collection, with recipes like muffaletta and sally lunn buns. I credit this cookbook (whose title I can't remember and my mom seems to no longer have) with my endless fascination for old recipes. I love reading old cookbooks (a habit much aided by google books), trying to figure out instructions and ingredients. With some old recipes, it's obvious why the preparation faded from fashion. But with others, I find there needs to be an immediate revival.

This seed cake is an example of the latter. The seed cake is British in origin, which makes sense given its ideal suitability for an afternoon cup of tea. It has a pound cake-like texture, but a bit lighter. It's flavored with a bit of rum and caraway seeds; fennel or anise would also work nicely here, but I like the caraway because it's an ingredient that is often relegated to rye bread and coleslaw. Not only should this cake be revived, but so should caraway as an ingredient in sweets. I suspect it would be really nice with something apple--a quick bread or an apple tart. Hmm, maybe I'll work on this for the weekend market.

The recipe I used for this cake comes from the American Heritage Cookbook, a 1964 two-volume publication which includes history and recipes. I usually only post recipes here if they are mine, but since this collection is long out of print and this cake needs to be baked, I thought I'd share it.

Caraway Seed Cake
2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp. salt
1//4 tsp. freshly ground nutmeg
1 cup ( 2 sticks) butter, room temp
1 cup sugar
2 tsp. caraway seeds
6 eggs, separated
2 T. brandy
Caraway comfits* or sugar for topping

Butter and flour a loaf pan. Heat oven to 350 F.
Sift together flour, salt, and nutmeg. Set aside.
Beat egg whites to stiff peaks. Set aside.
Beat butter until light and creamy. Add sugar and beat until fluffy. Mix in caraway seeds and egg yolks one at a time, beating until fully incorporated. Add flour and brandy, alternating between the two. Mix in 1/3 of the beaten egg whites to lighten the mixture. Gently fold in the remaining egg whites. Spread batter in the loaf pan and top with granulated sugar. Bake for about an hour (I used a ceramic loaf pan, which takes forever to bake, so mine took longer--add baking time if needed). Let the cake cook completely and remove from pan. Wrap tightly and let sit for a day or two to develop flavor. (Note: Because I have a husband who tends to hover as I remove things from the oven, I did not let the cake mellow and it still tastes quite fine).

*Caraway Comfits: Please, how adorable is that name? The original recipe called for a topping of caraway comfits, a new concept to me. I did some research and learned that comfits are candy-coated seeds, like the candied fennel seeds you get at some Indian restaurants. Good and Plenty are probably the modern version of comfits. I found a few tips for comfit creation, so I gave it a shot even though hot, boiling sugar and me don't get along too well. I didn't watch my boiling sugar very well, so it carmelized before I got too many layers of sugar on my seeds. I read some recipes that had more than twenty layers of sugar on the seeds, but I ended up with 3-4. They looked a bit ragged, but I could see the white candy coating starting to develop. Certainly not what they should be, but they tasted good on the cake. They added a more substantial caraway flavor, but if you don't want to bother, you could just leave the cake plain or dust it with sugar before baking to make it pretty.

pithiviers and sunday's market menu

I made a few pithiviers for last week's market to use up some ingredients, specifically puff pastry and coconut curd. I loved them so much, I'm making them again this week. And I suspect they will be making regular appearances throughout the season. I may decide to make them every week. Traditionally, a pithiviers is two layers of puff pastry filled with a mix of almond cream and pastry cream and it's typically made as one large round (also, if it is baked with a token inside, it becomes a Galette des Rois, a cake to celebrate the Epiphany). Mine are small and are currently being filled with creamy smooth coconut curd and rhubarb jam. Not traditional at all, but delicious. The rhubarb and coconut bake together nicely, creating a creamy-tart filling. Even if you're not a fan of rhubarb, you will like this filling. These just might be the perfect pastry for me--buttery, crunchy, sweet, jammy. So good. I'll be getting up early, early Sunday morning to put these in the oven, so I hope you'll stop by and try one.

If you can't stop by, you may want to try making these. Making puff pastry is pretty easy--time consuming, but simple. The results are so satisfying. You could also make these with frozen all-butter pastry. I love Dorie Greenspan's recipes, as she makes seemingly complicated processes very straightforward and accessible, so I'll link you to her instructions for Galette des Rois. You can add your favorite jam with the almond cream, or replace another type of pastry cream.

In addition to the pithiviers, this week at the market, I'll have:

• chocolate mint tarts

• apple puff pastry tarts (Hall's had some nice winter apples still)
• lemon cakes
• rhubarb bakewell tarts: [6/29 note: The rhubarb bakewell tarts were inspired by this month's daring bakers challenge. In the rush to get ready for the market, I forgot to take pics, but the tart was delicious. The June Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart... er... pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800's in England.
• brioche
  

For macarons this week, I'll have:

• gianduja (chocolate-hazelnut)
• maple pecan
• strawberry rhubarb
• vanilla honey
• green tea w/ white chocolate caramel

I'll also have some lovely jars of rhubarb jam for sale, plus two types of pates de fruit: apple and rhubarb.

rhubarb anise ice cream

I should probably just start calling my website "rhubarb" since that's all I seem to write about these days. But when you are living in the cold, cold north and it only feels like you might get a summer, there's not much in season besides rhubarb and asparagus. Before this spring, I'd never really done much with rhubarb beyond an occasional strawberry-rhubarb jam. I always felt sort of meh about the vegetable/fruit. My mind has been completely changed. Rhubarb is amazing! Sharp and tangy and completely versatile. I love, love, love it. You're probably not surprised to hear me say that.

Now that it is finally starting to feel like summer around here, it's time to get the ice cream machine in heavy use. I use it during the winter, but come summer I keep two freezer containers ready to go instead of just one. If you don't have an ice cream maker, I highly recommend them. I feel they are an essential kitchen appliance, far more important than a microwave or a toaster.

Anise and rhubarb is a combination I discovered from a rhubarb upside down cake recipe a few years ago--I think it's from the Gourmet cookbook. I'm not a huge fan of upside down cakes, but the flavor combination stuck with me. It's perfect in this ice cream. The anise ice cream is from David Lebovitz's The Perfect Scoop. This is also essential, according to me. Lebovitz provides very clear directions, so even if you haven't made ice cream before the process is easy. The book has a variety of basic and exotic flavors, with sections on mix-ins and toppings if you want to go crazy. To make the anise ice cream, though, you can use any basic ice cream recipe and steep your cream with anise seeds for an hour or so before continuing with the recipe. The rhubarb swirl was a simple compote. I would give you the recipe, but I wasn't really paying attention. I do that sometimes. Epicurious has a good basic recipe. Mine was pretty close to this, but had less sugar and a bit of lemon juice. The creamy anise ice cream balances the tartness of the rhubarb well, so I'd recommend a tart compote.

Here's hoping for more sunny days. Or at least a lot more ice cream. At least I can do something about that.