Craigie on Main may be my new favorite restaurant. The Boston area's premier locavore, "'snout-to-tail" eatery, it has won all sorts of accolades for its excellent food, sustainable principles, and customer service. Consider this post my humble addition.
I have enjoyed drinks and dinner there before, but my most recent Craigie experience, on a bustling Friday evening, started on a particularly high note and remained there over the course of the night. What made it so great? Was it the Northern Lights cocktail - St. Germain, citrus, and tiki bitters aligned so that I hardly noticed its Scotch base - that was waiting for me when I arrived? Was it my perch at the corner of the bar, achieved soon after arrival, that allowed me to take in the maneuverings of the bartenders, the distant activity of the kitchen, and the cheerful hubbub that existed about the fellow diners? Was it what came after I settled in?
To start, the atmosphere of the bar area really defies categorization. It manages to feel like a well-mannered bar, a bustling bistro, and an intimate restaurant. There is something festive yet relaxing about the space, as though you are simultaneously celebrating something special and settling in for a cozy night - even if neither mood is intended. The staff is friendly and knowledgeable, and the foodies sharing the bar space are chatty and enthusiastic. Everybody's smiling. Everybody's ordering more. Oh, you ask - what did I order?
My appetizer was a Julie-esque ragout of morcilla and local forest mushrooms, with farro risottto, poached egg, carrot puree, and herbs. (Of course, I had to order a dish with mushrooms!) I reveled in the tender mushrooms' robust earthiness, and enjoyed stirring the risotto in the herbed puree. Morcilla is a Spanish blood sausage, and therefore was previously-uncharted territory for me; I was pleasantly surprised by its soft texture and deep spicy flavor. I kept the egg at bay as long as I could, but when it did rupture and the runny yolk became unavoidable, I was not displeased by how it mixed with everything else.
Then, it was time for one of the tastiest pieces of meat I have ever had. (No, not the pig's head, however much my dining companion may have joked about us sharing it!) The famed Craigie burger is no longer on the menu, but if you are lucky enough to request it while the day's dedicated beef is not yet depleted, you can have one. I ordered mine medium rare. It was moist and slightly runny, as I would expect, but it did not turn the admittedly-sturdy and slightly sweet sesame bun into a sopping mess. The fresh-tasting grass-fed beef is enriched with marrow and miso, and the resulting umami-ness was really unique in this setting. The burger was topped with a rather sharp cheddar cheese, a bit of watercress, and some fried onion strings. I added some house-made mace ketchup to the mix, and the result in toto was an explosion of so many hearty, savory flavors that my tastebuds may have died. Oh, did I mention that there were equally-delicious fries served on the side? Those thick potato chunks were delightfully seasoned, and I dipped them repeatedly in whatever mace ketchup did not get slathered on the burger. There was so much food that I ended up taking half of it home; I can happily report that it was just as tasty left over.
This restaurant is also known for the subtle, talented mixologists behind the bar. They also stock a variety of unique liqueurs (we sampled Cynar, an unusually vegetabular yet sweet artichoke spirit I had not previously encountered) and house-made mixins (bitters, syrups). I was emboldened, after one or two Northern Lights, to ask the closest bartender, Carrie, for something special. After giving her a vague request ("something with St. Germain, that's different!") and an answer to one question ("yes, I like citrus"), she concocted this delight:
The beverage is equal parts blanco tequila, mezcal, St. Germain, grapefruit juice, and lime juice, with three dashes of grapefruit bitters and an orange peel for garnish. As with the appetizer, this was one Julie-esque drink. If the night hadn't been late, I would have ordered another.
After rolls, the shroomy appetizer, many cocktails, and that chunk of carnivorous heaven, I can't believe I still had room for dessert! I wasn't listening as well as I could have when Carrie announced the options - the aforementioned custom cocktail was monopolizing most senses - but I managed to hear that pumpkin was involved in the day's special, so that made the decision easy. Enter a cream-based dessert that was a complete departure from what I usually order.
The custard itself was sturdier than a creme brulee, and had a more assertive burnt sugar flavor. Despite its dense creaminess, it did not weigh me down. It was drizzled in a lightly sweet, somewhat salty caramel sauce, with bitter kumquats added for contrast. The aforementioned pumpkin was expressed in the thin, wavy cookie decorating the top of the dessert. The cookie was startlingly pumpkin-y and spicy, in a robust way that would have been shocking even in a sturdy, doughy cookie...or pumpkin pie. It was the most surprising aspect of the entire meal, and I wish there had been more of it - perhaps an equal amount of cookie in relation to the custard, so each bite could have had both? (I consumed the cookie far too quickly for it to be of any use to the custard.)
I can't wait to return to Craigie and order a different dessert, to see what else they're capable of.
What a meal that was! All in all, I give the food, drinks, and general restaurant feel each 6 stars out of 5. I wish I could eat and drink it all over again; maybe I will, if you go back with me? I hope this first attempt at expanding "the dessert blog" to contain other food reviews is adequately persuasive! :-)
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The Christmas Hamper!
Hello, dear readers, and happy 2011! Now that the joyous swirl of holiday revelry is over, I have resurfaced to share a very special Christmas treat.
I have a British stop-motion adaptation of The Wind in The Willows to thank for my introduction to Christmas hampers. Oh, how I loved that endearing series, especially the festive winter episodes! In one such episode, Toad challenges four weaselly troublemakers to a downhill race, and a Christmas hamper - or 'ampah, as the accent would have it - is the winner's prize. My young American sensibilities were amused that (1) a hamper would be a desirable prize - laundry, anyone? - and (2) said hamper was actually a large wicker basket, picnic-style, filled with fine foods. Hampers became a bit of a family joke, especially when other BBC period productions confirmed they were a "thing" beyond TWITW. Still, I never thought much of them beyond those laughs.
Then, imagine my surprise last summer when I was at Fortnum & Mason, in London...and I saw an entire floor of that great emporium devoted to hampers! I kept murmuring to myself, "they're real!", as I perused wicker box after wicker box filled with desirable confections.

I wanted one, badly. Bringing one back on the plane was out of the question, so I told myself I would order one for Christmas. What a great treat that would be for the family to enjoy, right?! Well, I was not as diligent as I could have been, and Christmas was upon us before I knew it. I had not ordered a hamper.
Fortunately, my father had been attentive where I had not. Christmas Eve saw a rather formidable box, with a very promising logo, positioned in front of our Christmas tree.
I honestly couldn't contain my excitement upon seeing the large Fortnum & Mason cardboard box. This excitement reached an even higher pitch when I noticed the wicker visible through the box's handles. I gleefully cut through the box's tape and lifted the hamper out of the box, pausing briefly to admire its weaving as well as the F&M emblazoned on its side. I unbuckled the hamper - yes, it is fastened shut with two leather buckles! - and unwrapped the well-cushioned treats within. I may have also done a little dance of happiness, both in and out of the original box.
So, what was in this hamper? You can see the treats, in their lovely keepsake tins and other such packaging, here. I should add that this was a "bespoke" hamper, with contents tailored to my family's dessert preferences!
While most of these treats may now be gone, the hamper will continue to serve us. My family has decided to make a tradition of filling the hamper each year! I can't wait to see what next Christmas will bring...
I have a British stop-motion adaptation of The Wind in The Willows to thank for my introduction to Christmas hampers. Oh, how I loved that endearing series, especially the festive winter episodes! In one such episode, Toad challenges four weaselly troublemakers to a downhill race, and a Christmas hamper - or 'ampah, as the accent would have it - is the winner's prize. My young American sensibilities were amused that (1) a hamper would be a desirable prize - laundry, anyone? - and (2) said hamper was actually a large wicker basket, picnic-style, filled with fine foods. Hampers became a bit of a family joke, especially when other BBC period productions confirmed they were a "thing" beyond TWITW. Still, I never thought much of them beyond those laughs.
Then, imagine my surprise last summer when I was at Fortnum & Mason, in London...and I saw an entire floor of that great emporium devoted to hampers! I kept murmuring to myself, "they're real!", as I perused wicker box after wicker box filled with desirable confections.
Fortunately, my father had been attentive where I had not. Christmas Eve saw a rather formidable box, with a very promising logo, positioned in front of our Christmas tree.
I honestly couldn't contain my excitement upon seeing the large Fortnum & Mason cardboard box. This excitement reached an even higher pitch when I noticed the wicker visible through the box's handles. I gleefully cut through the box's tape and lifted the hamper out of the box, pausing briefly to admire its weaving as well as the F&M emblazoned on its side. I unbuckled the hamper - yes, it is fastened shut with two leather buckles! - and unwrapped the well-cushioned treats within. I may have also done a little dance of happiness, both in and out of the original box.
So, what was in this hamper? You can see the treats, in their lovely keepsake tins and other such packaging, here. I should add that this was a "bespoke" hamper, with contents tailored to my family's dessert preferences!
- Piccadilly biscuit assortment - Piccadilly biscuits are wafer-thin and rather crisp, yet they pack a lot of flavor! The lemon curd biscuits were a particular standout.
- Explorer biscuit assortment - this tin contained many exotically-flavored biscuits, of a heartier nature than the Piccadillies, featuring different spices and nuts from around the world. The Lucifer biscuit, a pungent ginger cookie with chilli spice, is a great example of the tasting adventures found within this assortment.
- Christmas tea - this tea was so, so flavorful! I detected hints of orange, clove, ginger, and cocoa. It paired perfectly with our holiday breakfast (orange rum coffee cake) and official dessert (buche de Noel).
- Chocolossus biscuits - I have previously extolled the virtues of the Chocolossus biscuit, and this batch had an especially smooth chocolate coating and richly-flavored biscuit center. I have to add that the scent of Chocolossus biscuits will forever remind me of London. Sigh.
- Christmas biscuit assortment - this musical tin played a music-box version of Jingle Bells and contained Christmas spice, lemon curd Picadilly, and traditional butter biscuits. The butter biscuits were very, well, buttery!
- White and amber F&M sugars - the perfect addition to a bitter tea, these individually-wrapped sugar wafers with F&M imprint were quite welcome...and cute! I guess the British use "amber" to denote brown sugar?
- Superb English creams - these dark-chocolate-covered candies blew me away. I've never really enjoyed American fruit creams, where the fruity filling usually looks like nougat and tastes like an artificially-flavored, overly saccharine marshmallow. Many American chocolatiers make this filling even more of an abomination by adding nuts. However, F&M's creams were filled with a substance I can only describe as a pleasantly sweet, crystalline version of the fruit, or bean, or root, they were meant to imitate. So, I tasted surprisingly robust forms of black currant, coffee, and ginger (to name a few), while enjoying the sensations of sugar dissolving on my tongue and rich dark chocolate melting in my mouth. Superb, indeed!
- Dark chocolate bar with rose and violet - ok, I haven't tried this yet...but if F&M's other chocolates are representative of this bar's quality, I will enjoy it thoroughly.
- Milk chocolate bar - repeat the above bullet's comments!
- Christmas spiced biscuits - these hearty biscuits were thick and chewy. They had plenty of spice flavor, and crumbled nuts plus bits of dates added textural variety. These treats really highlight the differences between English biscuits and American cookies. They're denser, creamier, less sweet, and more robustly flavored than the average cookie found on this side of the Pond.
While most of these treats may now be gone, the hamper will continue to serve us. My family has decided to make a tradition of filling the hamper each year! I can't wait to see what next Christmas will bring...
Monday, November 29, 2010
Pumpkin Spice Latte Cheesecake
The August arrival of Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Latte is at first an unwelcome harbinger of fall, but as the mornings grow crisper and the evenings grow darker I find myself embracing this coziest of espresso beverages. It seemed only natural to try and express the comfort of the milky liquid in the stability of a dairy solid - so, enter the Pumpkin Spice Latte Cheesecake.
I used this recipe, and followed it exactly for my first pass. I did not triple the cinnamon (gasp), as I could count on the extremely moist cheesecake environment to heighten all spices’ intensity. Also, the pumpkin and latte flavors are more important. I liked Sprinkle’s suggestion for “authenticity” and used the strongest Starbucks Via packets to suggest the latte’s espresso.
I was pleased with some aspects of this first pass. I particularly liked the crust, which is crafted from wheat flour, almond flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and butter. It was dense and cookie-like, and the almond flavor gave it a nutty little twist. I had never used almond flour before this recipe, and had no idea that it was simply finely-ground almonds! Then, I liked the texture and mouthfeel of the cheesecake. It was smooth and creamy, but not too heavy. I could eat a slice without feeling belly-bombed. However, the original recipe calls for the separation of pumpkin and coffee.
The first issue with this was purely logistical. The pumpkin portion formed the majority / base of the cake, and the significantly smaller coffee portion was meant to be spread on top of the pumpkin layer. This may not be a problem for larger portions - layered cheesecakes are fairly common, after all - but it was difficult to spread the minimal amount of coffee-cheese mixture over the still-fluid pumpkin base. The final distribution was not as even as I would have liked. Secondly, such an approach seemed strange since the inspirational beverage's flavors are evenly mixed. The pumpkin part had a weak taste somewhere between pumpkin pie and plain cheesecake, and could have used something to kick it up a notch. The latte part was essentially espresso cream cheese, with more of a flavor punch than any espresso I’ve sipped. This flavor disconnect was, quite frankly, jarring, so I decided that any future attempt at this recipe would involve one mixture of…pumpkin spice latte cheesecake.
Fortunately, a pre-Thanksgiving potluck provided the perfect opportunity to re-test this recipe! I did not meddle with the already-perfect crust. Then, I threw all cheesecake ingredients together in one bowl while keeping the measurements the same. I am very glad I did this, as the end result was significantly superior to my first attempt. My test subjects...er, potluck attendees...definitely enjoyed it!
The cheesecake is a pretty brown latte color, with visible spice flecks. Flavor-wise, the pumpkin and coffee tastes integrate perfectly, and there's just a hint of spice to suggest the season. The mixture tames the overly assertive espresso flavor of the separate latte part, and is a much better approximation of Starbucks' fall treat. The pumpkin seems less wimpy when tasted in this context. So, the moral of this story is...if the drink is mixed, let its dessert be also!
We will see if these pages chronicle a future attempt at a Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate or Peppermint Mocha dessert...
I used this recipe, and followed it exactly for my first pass. I did not triple the cinnamon (gasp), as I could count on the extremely moist cheesecake environment to heighten all spices’ intensity. Also, the pumpkin and latte flavors are more important. I liked Sprinkle’s suggestion for “authenticity” and used the strongest Starbucks Via packets to suggest the latte’s espresso.
I was pleased with some aspects of this first pass. I particularly liked the crust, which is crafted from wheat flour, almond flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and butter. It was dense and cookie-like, and the almond flavor gave it a nutty little twist. I had never used almond flour before this recipe, and had no idea that it was simply finely-ground almonds! Then, I liked the texture and mouthfeel of the cheesecake. It was smooth and creamy, but not too heavy. I could eat a slice without feeling belly-bombed. However, the original recipe calls for the separation of pumpkin and coffee.
The first issue with this was purely logistical. The pumpkin portion formed the majority / base of the cake, and the significantly smaller coffee portion was meant to be spread on top of the pumpkin layer. This may not be a problem for larger portions - layered cheesecakes are fairly common, after all - but it was difficult to spread the minimal amount of coffee-cheese mixture over the still-fluid pumpkin base. The final distribution was not as even as I would have liked. Secondly, such an approach seemed strange since the inspirational beverage's flavors are evenly mixed. The pumpkin part had a weak taste somewhere between pumpkin pie and plain cheesecake, and could have used something to kick it up a notch. The latte part was essentially espresso cream cheese, with more of a flavor punch than any espresso I’ve sipped. This flavor disconnect was, quite frankly, jarring, so I decided that any future attempt at this recipe would involve one mixture of…pumpkin spice latte cheesecake.
Fortunately, a pre-Thanksgiving potluck provided the perfect opportunity to re-test this recipe! I did not meddle with the already-perfect crust. Then, I threw all cheesecake ingredients together in one bowl while keeping the measurements the same. I am very glad I did this, as the end result was significantly superior to my first attempt. My test subjects...er, potluck attendees...definitely enjoyed it!
We will see if these pages chronicle a future attempt at a Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate or Peppermint Mocha dessert...
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Julie and Tony's Pumpkin Bakestravaganza
How's that for an event name?
Tony and I had been discussing the possibility of a pumpkin-themed bake-a-thon for some time, and it finally happened last weekend! We may have baked enough items to blanket the entirety of Medford with a cinnamon-and-squash aroma, but even if that didn't happen we surely baked enough items to take care of a week's (and then some) breakfasts and desserts. So, what glorious bounty was produced?
We started with some cutely-named "cinnapastries", which are exactly what their name suggests - pastries flavored with cinnamon. (They use more butter and brown sugar than cinnamon, but those ingredients do not present such superior naming options.) The dough can be made from scratch, but premade pie crust is easier.
Next up was the first recipe I made from the Flour cookbook! Flour's pumpkin muffins were an event-appropriate way to welcome the new book. I won't copy the recipe here, but its intricacies deserve some commentary. First of all, the recipe requests 3 T molasses. Neither Tony nor I had molasses, so we substituted the equivalent measure of maple syrup and threw in some brown sugar. Secondly, the recipe uses orange juice in place of traditional muffin moisturizers like oil or milk. Then, I tripled the cinnamon and added an extra dash of cloves.
The end result was truly unique. The orange juice really brightened the fresh pumpkin flavor and gave a pleasing hint of citrus zing to the squashy cake. The citrus was also great in tandem with the heavy spicing - cloved oranges, anyone? The muffins were beyond moist, but in a light and fresh way rather than the heavy way associated with oil. The syrup/sugar molasses substituion had no adverse effect on the muffins' consistency, but it did not add enough flavor. These muffins would benefit from molasses' robust, earthy heartiness - if only to take them away from the metaphorical farmers' market and closer to a cozy autumn hearth. Even with their fruit-and-vegetable quality, these muffins are still delicious - and the recipe makes a lot of them. The batter yielded 18 total muffins, 50% more than expected. I'm so glad I received an insight into the creative baking conducted at Flour, as well as a week's worth of breakfast delights. I've eaten these muffins for 7 days in a row, and I'm still not sick of them!
Our last treats were Pilgrim Pies - or, to those who don't give seasonal desserts seasonal names, pumpkin whoopie pies. Here is the recipe; remember to add my token tripling of cinnamon.
The resultant Pilgrim Pies had moist, fluffy, pumpkin-y cake. The cake was much softer than the frosting, which was stiff and sugary with a faint cream cheese flavor. I would have expected the frosting to be grainier with so little cream cheese and butter to absorb the sugar, but its texture was surprisingly smooth. I preferred to eat my pies slightly chilled, so that the frosting was dense, cool, and refreshing - but, Tony's preferred 15-second microwave treatment resulted in equally-tasty warm pies dripping with gooey filling.
Here are the traditional pies:
And, here is the Macrowhoopie along with all other Bakestravaganza delights. My coworkers polished this monster off rather quickly:
What a tempting spread of autumnal desserts! Now, please excuse me as I help myself to another muffin...
Tony and I had been discussing the possibility of a pumpkin-themed bake-a-thon for some time, and it finally happened last weekend! We may have baked enough items to blanket the entirety of Medford with a cinnamon-and-squash aroma, but even if that didn't happen we surely baked enough items to take care of a week's (and then some) breakfasts and desserts. So, what glorious bounty was produced?
We started with some cutely-named "cinnapastries", which are exactly what their name suggests - pastries flavored with cinnamon. (They use more butter and brown sugar than cinnamon, but those ingredients do not present such superior naming options.) The dough can be made from scratch, but premade pie crust is easier.
- 2 pre-made pie crusts (1 package)
- 1 1/2 sticks butter, separated into 1 stick (softened) and two 2T portions (melted)
- lots of brown sugar
- lots of cinnamon
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
- Soften the stick of butter, and mix brown sugar in it until the result is uniform. Divide the mixture evenly among the 12 cups of a muffin pan.
- Roll out the pie crusts, and let them reach room temperature. Spread each crust with the melted 2T butter. Sprinkle - or cover, if you're spice-obsessed like me - the melted butter with cinnamon, and then brown sugar.
- Roll the crusts back up. Slice each roll/tube into 6 pieces. Place each piece into a cup of the pre-sugarbuttered muffin pan.
- Bake the cinnapastries for 12-15 minutes. Let them cool for a while after in the pan, until the sugarbutter has hardened. Don't worry about any overflowing sugarbutter - there's still plenty in each cup to moisten and flavor the pastries.
Next up was the first recipe I made from the Flour cookbook! Flour's pumpkin muffins were an event-appropriate way to welcome the new book. I won't copy the recipe here, but its intricacies deserve some commentary. First of all, the recipe requests 3 T molasses. Neither Tony nor I had molasses, so we substituted the equivalent measure of maple syrup and threw in some brown sugar. Secondly, the recipe uses orange juice in place of traditional muffin moisturizers like oil or milk. Then, I tripled the cinnamon and added an extra dash of cloves.
The end result was truly unique. The orange juice really brightened the fresh pumpkin flavor and gave a pleasing hint of citrus zing to the squashy cake. The citrus was also great in tandem with the heavy spicing - cloved oranges, anyone? The muffins were beyond moist, but in a light and fresh way rather than the heavy way associated with oil. The syrup/sugar molasses substituion had no adverse effect on the muffins' consistency, but it did not add enough flavor. These muffins would benefit from molasses' robust, earthy heartiness - if only to take them away from the metaphorical farmers' market and closer to a cozy autumn hearth. Even with their fruit-and-vegetable quality, these muffins are still delicious - and the recipe makes a lot of them. The batter yielded 18 total muffins, 50% more than expected. I'm so glad I received an insight into the creative baking conducted at Flour, as well as a week's worth of breakfast delights. I've eaten these muffins for 7 days in a row, and I'm still not sick of them!
Our last treats were Pilgrim Pies - or, to those who don't give seasonal desserts seasonal names, pumpkin whoopie pies. Here is the recipe; remember to add my token tripling of cinnamon.
- 2 eggs
- 2 C light brown sugar
- 1 C vegetable oil
- 1 t vanilla
- 1 15oz can pumpkin
- 3 C flour
- 1/2 t cinnamon, 1/4 t nutmeg, 1/4 allspice - This is my equivalent of the recipe's 1 t of "pumpkin pie spice."
- 1 t baking powder
- 1 t baking soda
- 1 t salt
- (frosting) 4 oz cream cheese, softened
- (frosting) 1 stick butter, softened
- (frosting) 2 t vanilla
- (frosting) 4-5 C confectioners' sugar
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
- Beat the eggs, brown sugar, oil, and vanilla extract in a mixing bowl until smooth. Stir in the pumpkin.
- In a separate bowl, combine the flour, spices, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
- Add the dry ingredients to the egg mixture 1/2 C at a time, blending each time until smooth.
- Drop a heaping tablespoon of batter onto an ungreased cookie sheet, using a moist finger or the back of a spoon to slightly flatten each mound. Bake the cookies for 12 minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack to cool completely.
- Meanwhile, make the frosting. Beat together the cream cheese, butter, and vanilla extract in a bowl until light and fluffy. Mix in the confectioners' sugar 1/2 C at a time, until the desired consistency is reached. 4 cups of sugar resulted in a surprisingly stiff, but still spreadable, frosting.
- To assemble the pies, turn half of the cookies bottom side up and spread a generous amount of cream cheese frosting on each one. Top them with the remaining cookies (turned right side up).
The resultant Pilgrim Pies had moist, fluffy, pumpkin-y cake. The cake was much softer than the frosting, which was stiff and sugary with a faint cream cheese flavor. I would have expected the frosting to be grainier with so little cream cheese and butter to absorb the sugar, but its texture was surprisingly smooth. I preferred to eat my pies slightly chilled, so that the frosting was dense, cool, and refreshing - but, Tony's preferred 15-second microwave treatment resulted in equally-tasty warm pies dripping with gooey filling.
Here are the traditional pies:
And, here is the Macrowhoopie along with all other Bakestravaganza delights. My coworkers polished this monster off rather quickly:
What a tempting spread of autumnal desserts! Now, please excuse me as I help myself to another muffin...
Labels:
From My Kitchen,
Julie and Joanne,
Muffins,
Pastries
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Julie and Joanne?
Flour obsessive that I am, it is somewhat surprising that I waited a few weeks post-release to purchase the new Flour cookbook. Maybe I wanted to wait until I was in a Christmas-shopping mood, since I knew I would be getting one as a gift in addition to my own copy? Regardless, the Moment of Purchase happened this past Veterans' Day. My company had the day off, so I was able to leisurely enjoy Flour's Central Square bakery around 10 in the morning. I was putting the new cookbooks in my bag when a fellow breakfaster struck up a conversation.
FB: Hey, have you baked anything out of that cookbook yet?
Me: ...No, I just bought it. But I can't wait to try!
FB: Maybe you could try baking all the recipes in a row, like that "Julie and Julia" movie. Only I guess this cook is Joanne. You could start a blog!
Me: I actually already have a dessert blog...
FB: Oh, that's perfect. What's your name? You could rename your blog to "Whatever I Am and Joanne."
Me: Julie.
FB: Even more perfect. Julie and Joanne!
I don't know which part of this exchange amused me more - the implication that I would have already made something out of a cookbook in my possession for 10 seconds, or my unknown name being represented as whatever I am (human? dancer?). Still, I have to thank this slightly-off-kilter patron for my newest tagging idea.
I won't repurpose this blog to be solely about Flour, even though I've likely discussed said entity more than any other bakery/desserterie/manufacturer. Instead, I will tag posts about my adventures with this cookbook as "Julie and Joanne" posts. Here's to baking under Joanne Chang's expert guidance - and the resulting book/movie deal, of course! :-P
FB: Hey, have you baked anything out of that cookbook yet?
Me: ...No, I just bought it. But I can't wait to try!
FB: Maybe you could try baking all the recipes in a row, like that "Julie and Julia" movie. Only I guess this cook is Joanne. You could start a blog!
Me: I actually already have a dessert blog...
FB: Oh, that's perfect. What's your name? You could rename your blog to "Whatever I Am and Joanne."
Me: Julie.
FB: Even more perfect. Julie and Joanne!
I don't know which part of this exchange amused me more - the implication that I would have already made something out of a cookbook in my possession for 10 seconds, or my unknown name being represented as whatever I am (human? dancer?). Still, I have to thank this slightly-off-kilter patron for my newest tagging idea.
I won't repurpose this blog to be solely about Flour, even though I've likely discussed said entity more than any other bakery/desserterie/manufacturer. Instead, I will tag posts about my adventures with this cookbook as "Julie and Joanne" posts. Here's to baking under Joanne Chang's expert guidance - and the resulting book/movie deal, of course! :-P
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
From Hoboken, With Cupcake
I just spent a fun weekend visiting good friends in the New York City area. Much of this time was spent in Hoboken, where two friends (and their comfortable couches) reside. We enjoyed several leisurely mornings there, with slow walks to and from our chosen brunch locations. (Yes, there were choices to be made - I did not know that Hoboken has the highest density of bars and restaurants per square mile in the US!) These walks took us by several tempting bakeries. I was always too full from brunch to enjoy these treats in passing, but I did take one cupcake from Crumbs Bake Shop back to Boston at the end of the weekend!
The Crumbs cupcakery chain actually has locations in California, Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey, with plans to open additional locations in other states. I'm sure they'll be welcome wherever they go, because seriously, look at the contents of this display case:
So many tempting flavors, in such decadent portions! I ended up purchasing a Grasshopper cupcake due to my love of chocolate and mint.
This cupcake was different from most gourmet cupcakes. To start, it was massive - at roughly 3 inches in diameter and height, it put all Boston cupcakes to shame. Then, instead of being dense and finely crumbed, the cake was rather airy, with large crumbs that belied its smooth texture. I would liken the Crumbs cake to an unusually successful box cake - it had the appearance and mouthfeel of a cake mix product, but much more flavor than Duncan or Betty usually provide. It tasted of rich, buttery cocoa, and was almost ganache-like in its intensity.
The cupcake had a fudgy frosting injection at its center. I would guess that this was chocolate buttercream frosting blended with cake crumbs or batter, as the injection was not smooth throughout but somehow integrated perfectly with the surrounding cake. Then, the entire massive cupcake was covered in mild, sweet mint buttercream frosting. The frosting, like the cake, reminded me of the storebought product, only with a drop or two of peppermint extract - but, it could be that Crumbs just mixes an exceptionally oily and creamy buttercream frosting. It was cool and refreshing, and maybe a tad slippery. The mint flavor could have been more assertive, but generally speaking the frosting complemented the intensity and smoothness of the base cake. The frosting layer was then garnished with a small dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkling of soft, creamy semisweet chocolate chips.
Crumbs' best-possible-box-mix taste is unusual in today's baking world, and as such it was unexpectedly satisfying. I'm positively stuffed after eating the Grasshopper, but I do wish that I had more cupcakes for the days to come. My purchase survived a 4.5-hour non-refrigerated bus ride plus nearly 3 days in my fridge, so others - like the Espresso and the Half Baked, mmm - could have made the trip as well. The next time I'm in Hoboken, or someplace with a Crumbs franchise, I will have to take more cupcakes on the road, and possibly eat one on location too!
The Crumbs cupcakery chain actually has locations in California, Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey, with plans to open additional locations in other states. I'm sure they'll be welcome wherever they go, because seriously, look at the contents of this display case:
So many tempting flavors, in such decadent portions! I ended up purchasing a Grasshopper cupcake due to my love of chocolate and mint.
This cupcake was different from most gourmet cupcakes. To start, it was massive - at roughly 3 inches in diameter and height, it put all Boston cupcakes to shame. Then, instead of being dense and finely crumbed, the cake was rather airy, with large crumbs that belied its smooth texture. I would liken the Crumbs cake to an unusually successful box cake - it had the appearance and mouthfeel of a cake mix product, but much more flavor than Duncan or Betty usually provide. It tasted of rich, buttery cocoa, and was almost ganache-like in its intensity.
The cupcake had a fudgy frosting injection at its center. I would guess that this was chocolate buttercream frosting blended with cake crumbs or batter, as the injection was not smooth throughout but somehow integrated perfectly with the surrounding cake. Then, the entire massive cupcake was covered in mild, sweet mint buttercream frosting. The frosting, like the cake, reminded me of the storebought product, only with a drop or two of peppermint extract - but, it could be that Crumbs just mixes an exceptionally oily and creamy buttercream frosting. It was cool and refreshing, and maybe a tad slippery. The mint flavor could have been more assertive, but generally speaking the frosting complemented the intensity and smoothness of the base cake. The frosting layer was then garnished with a small dollop of whipped cream and a sprinkling of soft, creamy semisweet chocolate chips.
Crumbs' best-possible-box-mix taste is unusual in today's baking world, and as such it was unexpectedly satisfying. I'm positively stuffed after eating the Grasshopper, but I do wish that I had more cupcakes for the days to come. My purchase survived a 4.5-hour non-refrigerated bus ride plus nearly 3 days in my fridge, so others - like the Espresso and the Half Baked, mmm - could have made the trip as well. The next time I'm in Hoboken, or someplace with a Crumbs franchise, I will have to take more cupcakes on the road, and possibly eat one on location too!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Homemade Oreos
Sigh, fall - or potluck season, as it were! I decided that it was about time I bring something other than brownies to my first potluck of the season, though whatever I brought would (obviously) still be a dessert item. Flour Bakery had taught me the tastiness of a baker's oreo, so I thought I'd try creating my own version of this surprisingly complicated but delicious cookie. Here is the recipe I used, which is cobbled from various online sources with personal modifications. My commentary on the process is in italics.
This recipe made 30 total oreos - 60 individual cookies, and enough frosting to stick sets of two together. The cookies were crisp and crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle, which was a surprising variance considering their thinness. They softened over time, probably due to the proximity of moist frosting, which actually helped one take the best possible bite - a bite into a softer cookie does not displace as much frosting! They tasted like an exceptionally cocoa-y, buttery devil's food cake. The frosting was very smooth and creamy, with a cream-cheese tanginess that cut through the sugary sweetness. The flavor pairings were great - the cookie's butter and frosting's cream cheese amplified the perception of the other flavor, and the comparatively bitter cocoa powder was tempered by the powdered sugar. The contrasts in texture and density were also notable - the cookies were light and grainy, while the frosting was heavy and smooth.
My fellow potluckers and I were very happy with the outcome of this recipe, though I wish the execution had not been so troublesome. Maybe I'll have to get some pastry bags and hope for better results! I would make this recipe again in my quest to approximate Flour's quality in baking. :-)
- 1 1/4 C all-purpose flour
- 1 1/4 C sugar
- 1/2 C unsweetened cocoa
- 1 t baking soda
- 1/4 t baking powder
- 1/4 t salt
- 1 1/4 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
- 1 large egg
- (frosting) 1 stick butter, room temperature
- (frosting) 1 8oz. block cream cheese, room temperature
- (frosting) 4 C confectioners' sugar
- (frosting) 1 t vanilla extract
- Preheat the oven to 375 F.
- Mix the flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt until uniform.
- Using an electric mixer at low speed, beat in the butter and then the egg. Continue mixing until the dough is a solid mass.
- Place rounded teaspoons of batter on a parchment-lined baking sheet, approximately 2" apart. Slightly flatten the dough. I spaced the cookies less than 2" apart to maximize the number baked per sheet (25). I should have heeded this recommendation, as most cookies had baked into each other. I cut them apart when they were just out of the oven and still soft, so no harm was done in the long run.
- Bake for 9 minutes, rotating the sheet halfway through. Cool the cookies on a rack afterward.
- (frosting) Cream the butter for 2 minutes. Add the cream cheese and vanilla, and mix well. This is a beautiful blend!
- (frosting) Gradually add confectioners' sugar until the desired consistency is reached. I used 4 cups, but could have used more. The consistency was more like spreadable cake frosting than the stiff cream of the storebought oreo.
- (assembly) Put frosting in either a pastry bag with a 1/2" tip, or a ziplock bag with a 1/2" tip cut out. My non-pastry-bagged self had to use the improvised ziplock. I regretted this within a few minutes.
- (assembly) Add 1 T frosting to the center of one cookie. I couldn't get the frosting to come steadily out of my bag. Intense squeezing ruptured holes all over the ziplock, so that thick streams of frosting shot haphazardly about my assembly area. After sponging frosting off my clothing and cleaning up the spillage, I admitted defeat and took to the holey bag with a knife, using the utensil to spread frosting on my oreos per usual frosting applications.
- (assembly) Place another cookie on top of the frosted cookie, and press lightly to spread the frosting to the cookies' edges. I had a lot of frosting, so my oreos were robustly filled! The average finished oreo measured 2" to 2.5" wide, and a little over a half-inch tall.
This recipe made 30 total oreos - 60 individual cookies, and enough frosting to stick sets of two together. The cookies were crisp and crunchy on the outside and soft in the middle, which was a surprising variance considering their thinness. They softened over time, probably due to the proximity of moist frosting, which actually helped one take the best possible bite - a bite into a softer cookie does not displace as much frosting! They tasted like an exceptionally cocoa-y, buttery devil's food cake. The frosting was very smooth and creamy, with a cream-cheese tanginess that cut through the sugary sweetness. The flavor pairings were great - the cookie's butter and frosting's cream cheese amplified the perception of the other flavor, and the comparatively bitter cocoa powder was tempered by the powdered sugar. The contrasts in texture and density were also notable - the cookies were light and grainy, while the frosting was heavy and smooth.
My fellow potluckers and I were very happy with the outcome of this recipe, though I wish the execution had not been so troublesome. Maybe I'll have to get some pastry bags and hope for better results! I would make this recipe again in my quest to approximate Flour's quality in baking. :-)
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