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    Is there anything more comforting in winter than a pot of soup on the stove and bread in the oven? Bakers, by their very nature, possess the perfect antidote to winter’s cold and dark.

    As the seasons turn, The Baking Sheet features original recipes to suit. I get lots of emails from readers telling me the arrival of their latest issue is an event that causes them to carve out some time in their favorite chair, hot beverage nearby, to read, enjoy, and plan meals to come.

    From Sylvia S. in Chester, SC: I love The Baking Sheet! The comments along with the recipes give a lot of insight into many baking issues. And I especially appreciate the Weight Watchers points being included—that “gives me permission” to try (and eat….) the recipes. Thank you so much!

    For winter, we’re featuring several hearty soups and breads to pair with them; I’d like to share one of the soups with you here. Let’s talk about Pottage first.

    I came across this idea when I found a Web site that dealt with food history: pottage is a dish that was cooked in a cauldron hung on a hook over a fire, and this one stays faithful to medieval times, when New World ingredients were as yet unknown.

    I’ve since learned from an alert reader and food historian that the green beans in the ingredients list aren’t strictly legitimate: peas or lentils were common, but green beans are from the Americas, too. So if you want your meal to have the true time travel effect, use some peas instead of green beans.

    No tomatoes or potatoes, eggplants or yams were in use in Europe until Tudor times. When I read over the article, I immediately thought, “root cellar soup!”

    Pottage is part soup, part stew, depending on how long it’s been cooking and how much grain you add to it. If you participate in a year-round CSA, this is a great way to use some of what’s showing up in your basket. You can make it as thin or thick as you like, use any kind of meat stock or scraps you have, and if you can eat gluten, you can use barley instead of oats to thicken the dish. The vegetables have so much flavor that you can easily skip the meat and make the soup with vegetable broth for a vegan dish.

    I’ve made this twice now, once with fresh and once with dried herbs, and with the exception of the rosemary, dried seem to do a better job of perfuming and flavoring the soup over its simmering time.

    This soup could be made in a slow cooker on low, too; it’ll need at least 4 hours and could go as long as 8 – just don’t add the oats until the last hour of cooking.

    If you have a crowd to feed, you can get out your big kettle and double or triple this; pottage will expand to feed as many mouths as needed (remember the children’s book Stone Soup?). If the soup gets thicker than you’d like, thin with water or more broth as needed. If you have kids who like the story Stone Soup, you can tell them this is the recipe. It’ll be a fun way to get a lot of good nutrition down the hatch.

    Making the soup involves some knife work. To make the soup easy to eat, all of the vegetables and chunks of meat should be about the same size: no bigger than a half inch square.

    For Pottage, you’ll need (clockwise from top left) turnips or rutabagas, carrots, parsnips, celery root (or celery; the recipe doesn’t specifically call for it, but if you have or like it, so much the better), and onions. Not pictured above, but also in the recipe: mushrooms, leeks, cabbage, and lentils or peas, for vegetables.

    Then you’ll need stock, bay leaves, sage, thyme rosemary, and parsley. Last, 1 pound of protein (smoked meats or sausages are particularly nice), some oats (gluten-free if that’s how you’re eating), broth or stock, and salt and pepper to taste. The recipe lists specific amounts, but you can use as much as or as little as you like.

    To clean the leeks, trim the darker green leaves, which can be tough. Slit the leek from an inch above the root end all the way out to the top. Turn it upside down and run under water to get out any big chunks of dirt that will ruin your knife. Then dice, and put in a bowl of water to wash any other grit off. Pick the diced leeks up off the water and drain.

    Get our your peeler and get those parsnips and carrots naked; turnips, too if you’re using them. For rutabagas or celery root, it’s best to use your knife to peel the vegetables. Rutabagas have a line about 1/4″ under the skin; make sure your knife travels inside this line (the flesh is less tasty on the outside of this landmark).

    Once the vegetables are all prepped, put ‘em in a pot with a little vegetable oil, cover, and sweat them (that’s a real live term, by the way; it means they steam in their own juices) for 15 minutes, until they begin to get soft.

    vegetables, before and after sweating

    From here it’s easy: add the herbs, the stock, meat if you’re using it, and simmer. Add the oats at least half an hour before you plan to eat. This is a nice soup to put on the woodstove, if that’s how you heat your house. It’s also something you can put in a slow cooker and let take care of itself. Do the vegetables on high for about an hour, then give the soup another 2 hours on high after the stock goes in. The oats can go be added anytime after the second hour. After that, it’s up to you how long you want to cook it; the longer you simmer, the thicker it will get.

    What shall we have with our soup? I propose one of the tastiest, quick-to-put-together recipes I know. Faster than a biscuit, less fussy than a dinner roll, tasty and full of whole grains: Rieska. Rieska will be making its appearance in the Early Spring issue, which is headed to the printer as I write this.

    From Finland, and a time before fermented loaves, Rieska is simple and uses what was readily available. Once upon a time Finns baked flatbreads with holes in the center, and strung them up on a rope near the ceiling to store them until they were used. This recipe takes the spirit of that ancient Finnish bread and updates it a bit to make it useful for today.

    Rieska can be made with rye or barley flour, and is sometimes found with potato flour in the mix, too. If made with a little less liquid and rolled particularly flat, it’s a nice partner to some gravlax or smoked salmon. Our version is more in the camp of a biscuit/quick bread.

    First, preheat the oven to 500°F. That’s not a typo: this bread was designed to be baked in a hot, wood-burning cookstove, and 500°F is as close as your oven at home can get.

    Next, set up your pan. I’m using a 9″ x 13″ pan, lined with a piece of parchment paper, held in place with two spring clips from the stationery store.

    They’re metal, so they’re fine to go into the oven. Most of us in the test kitchen can’t bake without them anymore, we’ve become so used to being able to lift our baked goods right out of the pan with the parchment paper “handles” once things are cool.

    In a large bowl, combine

    1/2 cup (1 1/4 ounces) old-fashioned rolled oats

    1 cup (4 ounces) whole rye flour (pumpernickel; you could also use barley flour here)

    1 cup (4 1/4 ounces) King Arthur Unbleached All-Purpose Flour

    2 teaspoons baking powder

    1/2 teaspoon baking soda

    1 teaspoon salt

    2 tablespoons (7/8 ounce) sugar

    Hmmm. Just realized the oats aren’t in here. Don’t worry, they’ll catch up in a minute.

    Cut in

    1/4 cup (2 ounces) unsalted butter until it pretty much disappears.

    Grab your dough whisk, put the bowl on a scale, and pour in 1 1/2 cups (12 ounces) of buttermilk. And those oats we forgot.

    Stir thoroughly until you have a goopy dough; plop it in your pan.

    Spread it evenly with an offset spatula,

    then pop it in the oven. In 15 minutes (check at 13 to be safe, this goes pretty fast) you’ll have this:

    Once cool, lift the bread out of the pan, and cut to whichever size you like. The first picture I showed has the bread cut in 2″ squares, which will feed a crowd. For our supper, we’ll cut the bread into 6 pieces,

    and make a fabulous roast beef sandwich to go with our soup.

    In our family, if you’re having roast beef, you’d better bring the horseradish sauce. It’s a staple with our Christmas rib roast dinner. It’s incredibly easy to make, and can do double duty as a quick crudité dip if need be (if you’re going there, I recommend stirring in a teaspoon of onion powder, too).

    1 cup (8 ounces) sour cream (you can use low or nonfat if you like; works just as well).

    2 tablespoons (1 ounce) prepared horseradish

    1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

    1/2 teaspoon salt

    1/8 teaspoon ground pepper

    Put it in a bowl, stir it up, you’re done. The flavor improves as it sits, so budget an hour for it to hang out in the fridge before you use it.

    Now for sandwich majesty: Rieska, spread, tomatoes, arugula, roast beast, voilà!

    So what’s for supper?

    A bowl of Pottage, some Rieska for cleaning the bowl, or to pair with some roast or corned beef and some Horseradish Sauce for a hearty sandwich. The Baking Sheet is happy to serve up this hearty winter meal. We hope you’ll join us, in reading, and baking, and anticipating great new recipes to bake (that you can’t find anywhere else) all year long.

    From kjp684 on our community site: “The newsletters are filled with recipes and pictures. The authors and editors provide tips about experience with creating the recipe, and other things they tried. I gave this as a gift to my husband, and ended up renewing with a 2-year subscription, he liked it so well. Highly recommend this, but once you subscribe, you’ll be hooked, and will want to get a multi-year subscription.”

    There is a conflict within me. My head is all for scientific rationalization. I love the questioning various aspects of things we take for granted, and trying to find a coherent truth. But in my heart? I am a romantic. Beauty can't be quantified or qualified. Things move us, emotionally, for many different reasons, and trying to find out their hows & whys only seem to destroy our reactions to such things.

    All of this is my way of introducing my love for the American fish shop, where deep frying is the order of the day, and cole slaw, french fries, and slices of lemon are the only nod to fruits and vegetables.

    We now know that deep fried items are, generally speaking, bad for us. Over the course of the past generation or two, this has changed the landscape of this particular type of restaurant. Deep fried clams, beer-battered halibut, or your standard fish and chips are things that "should be avoided". And so people have. And so, over the course of the past generation or two, the fried seafood shop has lost its popularity.

    Even here in Seattle, home of Ivar's and a handful of other similar places that take advantage of their place next to the Sound that is part of the Pacific Ocean, these restaurants have faded from their heights. Looking it the local newspapers and phone books from the 60's and 70's, one could get the impression that deep fried seafood could be found on every corner. Yet now? Now these places have taken a back seat to teriyaki places and Thai restaurants.

    I'm not going to lament this culinary shift in tastes and preferences. Time marches on, after all, and who am I to stop it?

    But I do admit to a feeling of comfort and joy when I walk into these places that I get in no other restaurant. These places feel like home to me, what with the aroma of malt vinegar, spicy cocktail sauces, and oil that is just about to break down.

    Here's the thing: I know exactly why these places speak to me. The first restaurant my father took me to, without my brother and sisters, was an Arthur Treacher's. It was there that he treated me to the joys of deep fried clams and the taste of malt vinegar. For an 8 year old who was growing up on baloney sandwiches, Kool-aid, and Quisp and Quake, Arthur Treacher's was equivalent to a fine dining experience. And I know that every time that I have sprinkled malt vinegar on my french fries, or have ordered deep fried clams, it is a nod to that moment in time back in the mid-70's.

    I look at this now and reflect upon the wonder of that. That this moment still affects me in restaurants to this day is astounding to me. Over the course of the past eight years, I've eaten in some of the top restaurants of the world, have eaten new dishes that were exotic, exquisite, or both, and have shared drinks with remarkable locations. And yet none of these moments, not one, have made me feel like I do when I walk into fried fish shop. No other place in the world can make me feel so tied to my past or to my father.

    I could try to psycho-analyse this to the nth degree, and figure out the hows and whys of the emotive response. But the romantic in me says this is unnecessary. Some people go to the cemetery to connect with those who have passed on. Me? I think I'll keep the fish stand.


     

     

    Hi there

    I have been baking sourdough breads on a weekly basis for the last 4 month after a long break from using soudough.

    I pretty much like the results (and also my wife...)

    I only have one big problem - in the last few bakes, the breas is always torn on it's buttom part.

    Today, for example, i baked an 70% hydration of 50% wholw wheat and 50% dark wheat flour(high gluten).

    The steps where:

    1. Kneading the bread by hand for about 12 minutes until it passed the windowpane test

    2. Bulf fermentation at around 21C for 8 hours.

    3. Retarding for 11 hours in the fridge

    4. Moved the dough to room temp (23c) for 1.5 hours

    5. Shaped a batard and proofed in a benneton for 2.5 hours

    6. Started baking with steam (poured hot water to baking pan located in the bottom of my over right after puttong thr bread in the oven) at 210c for 15 minutes

    7. Removed steam and baked another 25 minutes.

     

    From what i understand, the problem could be:

    A. under proofing

    B. Maybe i'm not closing the seems good enough on final shaping 

    C. maybe i steaming too much/not steaming enough?

     

    Here is a picture of the dough after shaping with the seems up:

    From Bread

    And this was taken after baking:

    From Bread

    Do you have any advise? thanks

    I was not very pleased with the starter I made using the one Bread Alone as my guide. I am thinking about buying one, form King Arthur or some, but my questions is, how much bread do they provide starter for. I currently use the Poolish concept, always bake at least four loaves each batch. Will the commercial starters allow for a four loaf batch? buy two? Inquiring minds want to know. Thanks, Philip

    Post image for How to Peel Hazelnuts

    In recent weeks, I have become reobsessed with Nutella which prompted me purchase a bag of hazelnuts (aka filberts) which had their skins intact. One of the recipes that I was playing around with called for peeled hazelnuts, but I figured they would be a cinch to remove – however, I quickly realized that was not the case. Hazelnut skins are stubborn – mighty stubborn.

    Since picking papery peels off of 1 cup of hazelnuts sounded less than awesome, I did a little research and decided to use the roast and rub method. Essentially you roast the hazelnuts at 350 degrees for about 15 minutes or until the nuts have darkened a bit and you can smell the nutty goodness wafting through your kitchen. Next, you place the hot nuts into a slightly dampened kitchen towel and rub the skins off using the towel. Apparently the combination of moisture and heat helps to loosen the skins. Well, this worked – sort of.

    (...)
    Read the rest of How to Peel Hazelnuts


    © My Baking Addiction for My Baking Addiction, 2012. | Permalink | 22 comments | Add to del.icio.us
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    My friends and I are planning trips for the upcoming year, and it has given me the opportunity to reflect on what I think makes for a good-to-great trip. These are my own personal preferences, and some of them may not work for you.

    Before I leave:

    • Know Your Budget: Before even looking at flights or hotel rooms, you should have an idea on what you are willing to spend, per day, for where you want to go. This budget is important because it will limit you on where you can stay and what you can do. When you travel, it is easy to go beyond one's means, and a budget will help you know when you can splurge or when you need to save.
    • Set the Length of the Trip: The best thing I've learned is that it's difficult for me to do more than two weeks of travel at any given time, unless I move around a LOT.

      I've also learned that traveling with other people has a time limit based on the patience of the least patient person in our traveling party. If I am traveling with other people, up to ten days seems to be doable. Anything longer seems to bring people to into the "What am I still doing here?" phase.

    • Book your hotels several months in advance: This does two things. One, it ensures you get a room in locations where rooms will be sparse the closer you get to the date (Try finding a decent hotel room for Munich's Oktoberfest or Seattle's Labor Day in July). Second, an early made itinerary allows your excitement for the trip to grow for several months, rather than stress about when or if you'll even get a room.
    • Research, Research, Research where you are going to stay: This means looking at more than one site. For every room I book, I tend to look at a minimum of three sites (Kayak.com or Booking.com, tripadvisor, and then the website of the hotel or apartment that I found.)

      I look at Kayak for pricing, and Booking for details on rooms I find interesting.

      I look at Tripadvisor to see how other travelers have rated the place, and I will consider any mid-range reviewed locations or higher because I'm okay with average hotel rooms. This is particularly important when you head to cities that have hundreds of hotels available, where a hotel ranked 150 out of 300 can still be considered 'adequate for the task'.

    • Flights: Researching flights can be difficult, because I know that the quality of many flights are dependent upon many things out of the airlines control. Do I blame United because O'Hare airport is a bear to get out of? Or that one particular flight attendant is cranky? The only thing I really try to do is avoid too many layovers. One is doable, two is difficult, three is god-awful.
    • Research Things to Do on the trip: I have learned two things about Itineraries. First - They should be written in pencil. What I mean by that is that you need to be adaptable because sometimes people just don't want to go to a museum, or circumstances prevent you from heading to the market you wanted to go to. Have a list of things you wish to do on the trip, but be satisfied if you only get to do half of that plan.

      Secondly, something should be available to do every day. It is better to have an event planed and not do it, then it is do want to do something, yet have no idea on what to do. I have found that it is worth it to have two places to go see per day, and one planned thing to eat or drink. We don't have to do any of them, but having the option available is quite comforting.

      And yes, I make plans on eating at certain restaurants or looking for particular foods or drinks. I have particularly fond memories about the quest for haggis, trying to find the best Kölsch in Cologne, and looking for a good bratwurst in Milwaukee. Food and drink can be really strong ties to where you are at.

    During the Trip

    • Write off your travel days: We have taken to calling the days we travel "purgatory", regardless of whether its by plane, train, or automobiles. Plane travel is NEVER pleasant, being either adequate to the task, or frustrating beyond belief. I've never had a great day of plane travel. I've had a few where there were no problems, but I have found that standing in line (check-in or baggage drop) after line (security) after line (getting on the plan) to be, at best tedious, and at worst, dreadful.

      Trains are somewhat better than airlines, and have been known to sneak up into the 'pleasant' region from time to time. But those times are rare, and are often dependent upon who run the train and the amount of people in your car.

      Surprisingly, cars afford the best opportunity for a pleasant trip, as you can come across a scenic route whilst driving, and can actually stop the car to appreciate wherever you are at. I'm reminded of my friend Andrea's and my last minute decision to stop and enjoy coffee at a place in the Rhine river valley, and the stop Tara and I made to enjoy the Tantalus Range in British Columbia. These moments are rare but notable. If you drive on major highways or Interstates, it's mostly dull.

    • Have a light first day: This is especially true if you travel overseas. Jet lag sucks, and it's worth your time to not push yourself when you've had anywhere from zero to four hours of sleep. Stay close to your hotel if you can.

      Here's what I do on the first day: I become acquainted with the closest commercial street, where it is in relation to the hotel, and where I can find it on the map. This allows me to establish where I am in relation to the rest of the city. My friends are amazed at my ability to never get lost in a new city. My success in this is almost entirely due to acquainting myself with where the hotel is located.

      I also try to acquaint myself with the local metro system. Nothing sucks more than learning that 50 minute walk you took could have been accomplished in 10 minutes with a ride on the subway. I've learned this the hard way.

    • Learn its okay to be a tourist, but acknowledge that you ARE a tourist: Many people dislike being called tourists. But the fact remains, you will be a tourist at some point. You can't avoid it, unless you wish to avoid visiting areas where tourists congregate. To put it another way, if you want to go to Pike Place Market, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Tower of London, or the Eiffel Tower, but are not from the areas where these places are located, you will be a tourist. It's unavoidable.

      This isn't to say that you should always do touristy things. Good god, NO! It is a good thing to find things off of the beaten path, looking for the people, places, or things that the tour books are unaware of, yet help define your experiences. THESE experiences will differ from person to person and will make your trips different from everyone else's. Besides, being a tourist is exhausting.

    • Get a Souvenir, but not from a Souvenir shop: I define a souvenir as any item that illicit a strong, pleasant memory from a trip you have taken. These can include pictures you have taken, to a piece of clothing you forgot to pack that you had to purchase to replace. I consider a small travel alarm clock that I purchased in London, and a scarf I purchased in Edinburgh as both souvenirs. I didn't realize they were at the time I bought them, but when I look at them now, they both bring back a strong memory of specific moment in time that I find
      wonderful. Learning this, I've realized that I don't need to purchase anything from the souvenir shops, as anything I find that brings back those memories will work. The only thing I buy from those places are $1 flag or coat of arm decals that I stick on my laptop.
    • Take pictures, but don't go crazy about it: As I said above, pictures can work as souvenirs. By all means, take them and then get them printed out and framed to put in your house, as reviewing them on Flickr is nice, but not as effective as having a picture that you can touch and feel and move about your house.

      However, I have found that there's a fine line between having an experience versus recording an experience. If you are continually taking pictures, then your memories may be entirely about you taking pictures.

    • Send Postcards, especially to the children in your life: Your friends really do want to hear (briefly) about your trips. Kids, doubly so, and many of my friends have used the post cards as a brief teaching experience. Additionally, I have found that there are friends who will get motivated to travel based on hearing of their friends experiences.
    • When possible, live (and engage) in the moment: That itinerary I told you to have above? You need to be able to adapt it, even to the point of throwing it aside if something better comes along. Traveling is not your schedule. Traveling is enjoying being somewhere else. Sometimes life will provide an alternative to what you have planned. Recognize it and engage it.

      Andrea and I were in a higher end restaurant in Palermo, one mostly dedicated to the locals. In walks a mime/clown (not in white-face, thank god). This clown would try to engage other customers who really didn't want anything to do with him. Andrea and I took the opposite tact, and we engaged him, and he made us laugh and we made him laugh. Because we did that little bit of engagement, we have a very strong shared memory.

    • Be Safe, but don't be paranoid: There are two things that, if you lose, make your life difficult when you travel - your identification, and financial resources. (Note that I said difficult, but not impossible). Everything else is easily replaceable, up to and including airline tickets. Have a plan to deal with the loss of these items, certainly. But the odds of you of being pickpocketed or having the staff of your hotel steal stuff out of your room is small. It happens, yes, but only to a minority of travelers. Taking small but notable actions will lessen those odds. Use common sense (don't flash money about, keep your ID in a place where it's difficult to pickpocket, etc. etc).

      Also, it's here where not being in a touristy area works in your favor. Criminals can and do work Pike Place Market, North Beach, and the Eiffel Tower. Added consideration should be taken in these areas. If your at a coffee-shop in a residential area of a city, the odds drop dramatically.

      Additionally, if you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation, then leave. There's a difference between having a clown come up to you at a reputable restaurant, and having a stranger try to lead you away from the crowds of a commercial street.

      My point here is that, yes, be aware of crime and criminals. But don't let the odds prevent you from enjoying yourself. Be smart, don't be paranoid.

    hat's all I have now. I may add to this at a later date.


    I understand the aspect of the stretch and fold method, but been wondering wether lower hydration doughs (64% which I use for sandwich loaves) will benefit from this method? and maybe less stretchs are required? any feedback would be apprecitave.

    So, I was browsing through my Modern Baking magazine last night, and came across the slickest little recipe ever:

    Microwave lemon curd.

    I mean, I know you can make lemon curd at home, but doesn’t it involve egg yolks, and stirring a pot on the stove, and transferring some of the hot liquid from one bowl to another and back again…

    No thanks – too busy!

    But THIS lemon curd, made simply by stirring everything together and cooking in the microwave for 7 minutes?

    I can do that.

    Modern Baking, since I know you’re wondering, is the main trade magazine of bakery professionals: bakery owners and employees, caterers, wedding cake bakers, and anyone who makes their living with flour and sugar and eggs and all that good stuff.

    They have a tips column I peruse with avid interest each month, in which a baker in, say, Skokie, Illinois, asks for a foolproof way to keep buttercream frosting from melting.

    The column often includes short, simple recipes – short and simple because, when you’re making a living as a baker, the more efficient you are, the better.

    The challenge is, most of the time these recipes A) assume a certain level of familiarity with common bakery practices (kind of like recipes used to be written back in the day – no directions, you’re just supposed to know what to do); B) they assume a certain amount of equipment (a dough sheeter, for instance); and C), they make 30 dozen of whatever, when all you want is 2 dozen at the most.

    But this lemon curd recipe is different.

    It doesn’t use any unusual techniques; no fancy equipment is necessary; and it makes just 1 quart of curd, easily cut back to a more manageable 2 cups.

    Did I mention how easy this is?

    How about how tasty?

    Well, see for yourself; if you have lemons, sugar, butter, and eggs on hand, get out your microwave-safe bowl and let’s get started.

    Put 2 large eggs and 1 cup sugar in a microwave-safe bowl.

    Make that a BIG microwave-safe bowl; the eggs and sugar should take up no more than 1/4 of the bowl’s capacity.

    Whisk to combine, then whisk in 1/2 cup (4 ounces) unsalted butter, which you’ve melted first.

    Finally, add 1 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice. About 4 large, juicy lemons should do it.

    Note: Modern Baking calls for the grated rind of the lemons as well as their juice. I prefer a super-smooth curd without stringy little bits of peel, but add it for more assertive lemon flavor, if you choose.

    Whisk until everything is thoroughly combined.

    Put the bowl on a plate (to catch any bubble-overs), place in the microwave, and cook in 1-minute increments, stirring after each.

    High power? Low? I don’t know, my microwave doesn’t have any power levels. The instructions in Modern Baking say 3 to 5 minutes at “full power,” but if your ‘wave doesn’t have power settings – just wing it.

    At first, you won’t see much change; as the curd heats it’ll foam up, but it’ll stay quite liquid.

    Speaking of foaming up, this is why you put the bowl on a plate…

    At some point – for me, it was 8 minutes – you’ll see the curd start to mound just a tiny bit. It’s subtle; it won’t be anywhere near the thickness of finished lemon curd. But it’ll definitely be thicker than it was to begin with.

    As the recipe says, it should coat the back of a spoon.

    Well, that’s kind of general, isn’t it? Doesn’t ANY liquid coat the back of a spoon?

    I decided to take the curd’s temperature, just to make sure the eggs were thoroughly cooked.

    At 187°F, they were indeed sufficiently cooked. And the curd was thick enough that it didn’t run right off the spoon, but kind of coated it – I guess.

    Anyway, I stuck the curd (a scant 2 cups) in the fridge, and once it was thoroughly chilled… Eureka! It had thickened to a smooth, spreadable consistency, stiff enough to mound nicely when dropped from a spoon.

    It’s not as stiff as jarred lemon curd…

    …but it’s certainly stiff enough to dollop onto a ginger cookie and enjoy.

    Or combine with whipped cream for a lemon icebox pie, or spoon into paczki – both of which I intend to try ASAP.

    Stay tuned…

    Read, make, and review (please) our recipe for Easy Microwave Lemon Curd.

    Print just the recipe.

    Post image for Oatmeal Cookies with Cranberry Raisinets

    We finally have snow here in Ohio, which made me want to do nothing more than sip hot chocolate and bake cookies – soft, chewy, oatmeal cookies flecked with chocolate covered cranberries.

    I was strolling through the candy aisle of the market the other day – strictly for cupcake research purposes, and came across a bag of Cranberry Raisinets. Um, I love Raisinets so how I’ve failed to notice these little morsels of cranberry goodness is beyond me.

    (...)
    Read the rest of Oatmeal Cookies with Cranberry Raisinets


    © My Baking Addiction for My Baking Addiction, 2012. | Permalink | 37 comments | Add to del.icio.us
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    Just like everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day and all the world is in love on Valentine’s Day, everybody is part Cajun on Mardi Gras. True, is it not cherè?

    Maybe it is the colors that draw us in, the rich purple and green, the flashes of bright gold. Perhaps it is the freedom of a little wine and a lot of good food that calls our spirits. True Mardi Gras has nothing to do with inebriated co-eds flashing their …er… um… cupcakes to earn beads. It is a family-based FREE celebration of joy, fellowship and heritage.

    King Arthur Flour’s King Cake mix and King Cake recipe have long been favorites of our customers and we are always on the look out for new King Cake ideas. Our recipe developer Charlotte created a lovely lemon-y dough that rises high and develops a beautiful crown (aargh, bad pun!). The rich texture of a classic King Cake is there, the lemon flavor reminds us that spring is just ’round the corner. Top it all with bright colored sugars and you have individual cakes that make everyone feel like Rex, King of Mardi Gras!

    Grab your Krewe, and roll out the Mini King Cakes!

    While pre-fermented dough is great, it’s also nice to have some recipes in your stash that you can literally throw all together with a mix and a knead and a hi-hi-ho and come out with a beautiful, tasty dough to work with. This is just such a recipe. I felt a little guilty over not having more step photos, but you really don’t need them. So, into the bowl or bread machine pan dump in:

    Use the dough cycle for your mix, knead and first rise, or mix and knead by hand or mixer then allow to rise for one hour.

    Turn the risen dough out onto your work surface and pat out to an even thickness. I like a rectangle about 1/2″ thick, maybe as large as a sheet of paper.  Divide the dough in half, and then in half, repeating until you have 12 equal portions.

    Shape each portion into a smooth ball and place in a greased 12-cup muffin tin, or 12 individual mini bake and give papers. The butter and eggs make this dough a dream to work with. The deep golden color from the yolks is gorgeous too.

    Cover the pan, and let the cakes rise for 1 hour. Towards the end of the rising time, preheat the oven to 350°F.  Whisk the reserved egg white with 1 tablespoon water, and brush it over the cakes.

    Bake the cakes for 20 minutes, then tent them lightly with aluminum foil and bake for an additional 20 to 25 minutes, until they’re a deep golden brown.

    Remove from the oven and transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.  If you decide to add the traditional baby to your cakes, you can go with one per cake, or hide just one in the whole batch.

    In all honesty, not all of these guys are going to make it to the frosting stage. The scent of these cakes while still warm is truly irresistible. The sweet confectioners’ sugar glaze is literally the icing on the cake, but if you don’t have the time or the inclination, you can definitely savor the cakes “au naturale”.

    If you are in the party mood and do want to jazz up the cakes with the traditional colors of the Mardi Gras season just mix up the confectioners’ sugar glaze and break out the colored sugars. We sell the coarse sugars in purple, yellow and green year round, but have also brought in the fine sugars in these 3 colors just for the season. (see top photo for fine sugars).It’s interesting to note that the colors for Mardi Gras were chosen in 1872, but the colors were not assigned symbolism until 20 years later. Officially, the purple stands for justice, the gold/yellow for power and the green for faith.

    By the way, if you’d like to learn more about Mardi Gras and the real meanings of the traditions, I found a very informative site at MardiGrasNewOrleans.com. The site is very focused on the traditional and family aspects of the holiday and a great resource. They have the dates of Mardi Gras posted through 2024, giving you plenty of planning notice and time to stock up on your favorite baking supplies in advance!

    Please bake, rate and review our recipe for Mini King Cakes.

    Print just the recipe.