Bites o' Pumpkin

Usually I read the Good Eating section of the tribune on Wednesday mornings. That didn't happen this week. Instead, I skimmed it Thursday evening. And, one day later, for the first time, I've actually used a recipe I've clipped from it. I've been wanting to make pumpkin muffins and just hadn't gotten around to finding the recipe I copied two years ago from a book in the summer and never made (it was June, pumpkin didn't feel right then.) But upon finding this recipe, or the precursor to this recipe, which I thought I had everything for, except the flaxseeds, so I figured I'd give it a try.

I then proceeded to not even read the instructions. Surprisingly enough, they turned out well despite changing the ingredients (upon running out of granulated sugar), the procedure, the temperature, and the size of the muffins. They were loaded with a bit too much chocolate (and no nuts), but since I took them over to my friend's house where we watched Brazil and Monty Python's Now For Something Completely Different, they worked out nicely. Somehow, my container had 1 1/2 mini muffins, which resembled little balls, left it in when I brought it home.

Expect to see a full size variation of this, chock full of cranberries and pepitas, soon. (Which goes with this disclaimer: muffins shows above are not exactly the recipe below-they have pecans, as well, and are "normal" sized.)



Pumpkin Chocolate-Chip Loaded Muffin Bites
based on Pumpkin Chocolate-Chip Muffins in 10/24/2007 Good Eating
Makes about 24 mini-muffins

1 cup whole-wheat flour
2/3 cup whole-wheat pastry flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
2 heaping Tablespoons flax seeds (about 7 teaspoons)
1/2 cup water
1 cup pumpkin puree
1/4 cup canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 400F. Grease 24 mini-muffin cups.

In a large bowl, mix together the flours, sugars, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, salt, and nutmeg.

Place flaxseeds and water in a blender and whir until foamy. Add pumpkin puree, oil, and vanilla and process on high until well blended. Stir into the flour mixture until combined. If it appears to dry, add a little water. Fold in chocolate chips.

Spoon the batter evenly (I use a small scoop with a release) into the prepared tin. Bake in oven about 15 minutes or until an indentation doesn't stay when pressed or a toothpick comes out just about clean. Let cool a few minutes in pan; remove and eat or cool completely on wire racks for later.

Oven Love

I have a fear of deep frying. I've used an electric fryer (is that what they're called?) once to make shirini panjereyi, a fried cookie, with my cousin in Tehran, but the thought of tossing chicken in one and either a) not burning it b)not burning me c)getting it cooked through or d)not setting off the smoke alarm, seems rather slim. But maybe it is just an unrationalized fear.

But, with oven-fried chicken this tasty, who needs to worry about trying to figure out how to fry it? It can't be much easier than this....well, except that it might not need the breading if you left a crispy skin on...

Dinner last night was a group effort. It started on Thursday with Mom preparing the marinade and marinating the chicken while I made the ice cream base. Friday, Mom got caught at work and Dad at the dentist with my aunt, who had already helped by washing and cutting the kale-something that would have taken me at least half an hour. Mamanzari worked on breaking up the sausage and mixing in the onions for the stewed okra, Uncle Larry did the hard part of battering the chicken and arranging it on the roasting rack, and Aunt A brought over a cast-iron pan and helped whisk the ingredients for cornbread.

As to how the meal turned out... It wasn't our first time following the chicken or the kale recipe, though Mom made the kale last time and did most of the work for the chicken from start to finish. I think Nick may have helped her. I just made the grits... which were super cheesy and salty from thinking we'd had more grits than we did and grating far too much cheese.

This time though, it turned out a lot tastier. I followed most of the recipes (doubling the chicken and okra), except used cayenne instead of Tabasco for the chicken, bacon instead of ham for the kale, and italian sausage instead of breakfast sausage for the okra.

The cornbread, which was the easiest part of the meal, was a recipe from Uncle Larry. And it requires a cast iron pan, something we don't own. (I am definitely getting one soon. Ame wants to learn how to make the cornbread, and I can't show her without a pan. It's a good excuse.) I first had this cornbread two years ago while studying for finals. The girls, my mom, my aunt, and I, were on one side of the house reading/studying while the guys, my dad and uncle, watched a football game. For dinner we had chili and cornbread with a honey butter, I think. It was awesome.
We didn't have the honey butter last night, and the cornbread was dotted with scrambled eggs, but it was nevertheless delicious sopping up the stew.

Recipes (from October/November 2006 Eating Well):
Eating Well's Oven-Fried Chicken
Southern Kale
Stewed Okra & Tomatoes


Skillet Cornbread
recipe from Uncle Larry, but it says it is from Zinfandel Restaurant
Serves 8 if nobody wants seconds

2 large eggs
1 3/4 cups buttermilk
4 Tablespoons unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups stone-ground yellow cornmeal (also called polenta)
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon baking soda.

Preheat oven with 8" cast-iron skillet in it to 425ºF.

Whisk eggs in a medium bowl. Whisk in buttermilk.

When oven is preheated, remove pan and add butter. Swirl the butter around. If the butter does not melt, the pan is not hot enough.
Swirl the butter to coat the bottom and sides of the pan, and whisk remaining butter into the buttermik and eggs. Whisk in cornmeal, salt, and baking soda. A few lumps are okay.

Scrape batter into the hot pan. It should start to sizzle and rise immediately.
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until puffed and golden.

Invert onto a plate or basket and serve it while its hot!

Pralines from New Orleans

The first praline shop I went into was disappointing. I'd read about it in a guidebook and it sounded like the description of fudge shops I'd been to where you can see them making the candy. They had samples, and they were tasty, but everything was boxed up, and while I saw a window to a room, it didn't seem to be used. But it was 5:30 at night.
We walked another block, and I saw another candy store. It had all sorts of candies, including pralines. I bought a box of ten pralinettes there because they looked even better.

The following day, in between bouts of pouring rain, and sometimes even during, we darted between shops in the French Quarter I found the New Orleans School of Cooking which I'd read about because they do cooking demonstration/classes every day. It was almost noon though, and the classes were 10-12:30. One of the things they always make though is pralines. Mom bought a praline for us to split, and its ingredients were the friendliest out of all the pralines we'd had: sugar, pecans, brown sugar, vanilla, butter, milk

I'd found my praline. I also found the New Orleans School of Cooking Cookbook with easy recipes. I'm guessing the praline recipe they teach is the one they use.


New Orleans School of Cooking Pralines
adapted from New Orleans School of Cooking Cookbook

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
3/4 cup light brown sugar
6 Tablespoons butter
1 1/2 cups pecans
1/2 cup milk
1 Tablespoon vanilla

Mix together all ingredients in a heavy saucepan. Cook over figure out heat, stirring to keep bottom from scorching, until it registers as softball on a candy thermometer (238-240). Remove from heat and continue stirring until thick and cloudy. Spoon onto a buttered piece of parchment paper and let cool.

The Crescent City

I'm spending the weekend in New Orleans. It is my first time in New Orleans, and it has already been clear to me what the main thing to do is: eat.

And I'm sad to say, out of four meals so far, only one meal was truly something, two were okay, and then there was the one was with my mom that was part of her meeting, but that doesn't count.

Saturday Night, so far disappointed with New Orleans with the exception of going to Art for Art's Sake. Afterwards, we ate and walked down Bourbon Street. That is something I never want to do again. I'm not fond of drunk people with oversized beers, pounding music mixing together from all sides, and the strong scent of liquor mixed with vomit and urine. I find it disgusting-and not in an exhilarating way.

Sunday was much better. Despite twice getting caught in the on again/off again heavy rain in the morning. The first quick downpour led to my riding on a streetcar for the first time. As soon as it started moving, it stopped raining. No more than a minute we got off at the end of the line, halfway to our destination in the Garden District, it started pouring again. Mom thought we should hang out in the underpass until it stopped. The air was so damp that we gave up on having the umbrella dry even after the rain did stop.
The rest of our walk was pleasant. We saw pretty houses, and others that still needed to be repaired. There was a new looking AT&T store in front of a crumbling yellow house. That made some things clear.

When we arrived at Commander's Palace, mom was damp and excited to be inside; I, miraculously, was comfortable in the steamy weather. The recently redone hundred-year old restaurant was definitely worth the weather. We walked in, and a server led us through a line of servers that greeted us with warm smiles, through a dining room, up a flight of stairs, through another dining room, and into a smaller dining room with striped walls with matching curtains that blended right in. It seemed almost as if it should be tacky, but it wasn't in the least.

Our three-course jazz brunch was spectacular. Mom was worried when I said I wanted to go there for brunch and insisted we get a reservation that it was going to be all show and no taste. After she had a piece of garlic bread (made with real garlic and cheese) with her chicory coffee, she changed her mind. When she read over the menu, and our waiter said that the pecan-crusted gulf fish was drum, Mom insisted I try it. Drum is her new favorite fish. She had it a few nights ago for dinner, and was blown away. She was also thrown by the size of a soft-shell crab her friend had gotten, and decided to get soft-shell crab.

We started with salads, a romaine salad similar to a Ceasar, except with a buttermilk-black pepper dressing and toast points, and a Warm Rabbit and Apple Salad that had pears, apple, candied pecans, warm rabbit, and a sweet vinaigrette.
Our entrees were also wonderful: the pecan-crusted drum with lump crab and a corn bisque-like sauce converted me to a drum lover. Mom's scary large soft-shell crab with its crunchy fried exterior and melt in your mouth interior with a remoulade was delicious. And I never thought I really liked crab.

And the bread pudding souffle, the signature dessert, was that classic New Orleans bread pudding topped with a puffy meringue. Mom's praline sundae had a tasty cookie wrapped around it that I couldn't stop eating. Plus, I really like candied pecans. After our dessert came, the jazz trio came around to our table and asked what we would like to hear. Mom asked if they had anything original, and they just played covers, but they chose Down Yonder in New Orleans to play for us.

After breakfast- and yes, depite my long narration, that failed to mention the polka-dotted bathroom walls, there was more to our day than a delicious brunch - it was time to do some exploring.

It was raining again when we left the restaurant, so we took a cab to the Ogden Museum of Southern Art and spent a few hours looking around in there. There was an exhibit that was a guy who changed his name twelve times in a year, changing his persona and style each time, until his twelfth name, which is what he still goes by thirty years later with a style he still produces works of art with.

We walked back to our hotel from the museum on the same street we'd walked back on the night before. I got a picture of a Lutheran Church the night before, and it looked so different in the daylight. The street where the galleries were also looked less friendly.

After spending a while in our room (I was doing some homework, Mom read the paper), we decided to explore the French Quarter. We took the wrong street the first time, Dumaine, but walking back to the hotel, we found the street to see. Royal. It's chock full of galleries, restaraunts, and cute shops. Right off of Royal, on Toulouse, was a used cookbook and music store called Kitchen Witch. I was so glad that when I saw the sign that said "Cook books" I turned back around and headed towards it with Mom. We spent probably half an hour in it, and the owners were so friendly, as were Bob, the official greeter who happened to bea cat that reminded me of Jack, Sophie, a large black dog, and another dog whose name I don't remember.
I ended up buying a new book that's pretty recent called "Ruby Slippers" a cookbook with stories about Katrina that was put together by a twenty-nine year old woman. So far it is interesting to read.

We also saw a portion of Bourbon Street that was residential. Not quite the Bourbon Street thought of, but more pleasant.

Now that I've discovered Royal Street though, the French Quarter doesn't seem like such a bad place.

Brownie Points

When I was little there was the brownie, and then there were all those other things that I wasn't quite sure what they were. Until I was nine or ten, those other things got my attention because they were devoid of nuts. Though I liked nuts, sometimes. Like in white chocolate macadamia cookies; I thought macadamia was the fancy name for white chocolate chunks. They were my favorite cookies. And I liked walnuts in my chocolate chip cookies too. Just like the brownies.

Then, the brownies started being in different varieties. There were the "original" ones - a fudgy brownie loaded with walnuts, raspberry brownies, and orange brownies. The orange ones then became my favorite, cool out of the freezer with their orange zestiness and smooth nutless texture. One brownie would last me a week.

Then, suddenly, the brownies stopped coming. I was shipped down to Arkansas with a box of brownies ("don't bring me any of those weird ones. I don't like them") for my grandmother's freezer, and never saw any again.

Every year when I go down to visit, Granma's friend asks me when I'm going to give her the recipe and Granma wants to know if they'll ever be made again. Dad told me the recipe once (I stopped listening when he got to 48 eggs), and the enormity of it overwhelmed and discouraged me. He told me it was straight from The Professional Chef. I looked through the book and never found it, and then, this past January, I found it. In the Professional Pastry Chef, that is. I e-mailed it to myself from his desk and then never did anything about it. Sixteen by twelve inches sounds a lot more intimidating than it really is.

So yesterday I decided I was finally going to tackle these little bad boys. And yes, they are bad. In the best possible way. I bought enough stuff to make a half-portion of the recipe, and then realizing I had no adequate pans, changed my mind and bought the rest of the ingredients I needed to make a whole recipe (which is actually 1/6 of the recipe my dad recited that had scaredme so much) and then didn't do anything about it. Until dinner time. We were all ravenous by the time we sat down to eat because I just had to get those brownies in the oven.

The sheer enormity of it all though meant dad had to do most of the heavy lifting. And stirring. And pouring. I'm glad we have an outrageously large metal mixing bowl, which we thought at first was too large. It was just right.

And the brownies. Well, they weren't quite as I remembered them, but they probably are. Partially because I was too impatient to let them cool (well, it is past my bedtime) and because some of the walnuts on top burned. Maybe for once nostalgia doesn't really make things taste better.

I can't wait until I see Granma's face on Christmas now.

Winter Squash On The Last Day Of Summer

Last weekend I realized that the farmer's market was through October. For some reason I had thought that it was only June-August, despite that making very little sense. But I saw an ad for it on the local public access channel, jumped online, and it was true.

So I had to wander over, thrilled. And there was squash. Hard winter squash. In the summer. I'm okay with that, because last year, I realized I actually liked squash, but then it was bye-bye to the season before I had a chance to have fun!

I played it safe yesterday, despite having my eye on quite a few stuffed gems, I chose one out of a magazine with a picture that caught my eye when it came in the mail. I wasn't sure about it (turkey sausage, swiss cheese, and hot sauce?), but two of those reservations were personal taste, and one is just a bit ridiculous. Usually I replace swiss cheese, but I didn't, and my Dad was glad I didn't. I just put less on mine (which is the amount in the photograph.)

I can't wait until next weekend, since now I realize squash isn't too hard for me to handle, to buy more. I'll make baked macaroni one night, maybe another stuffing, or a "risotto" based on one I saw on a menu last week that called out to me.


Southwestern Stuffed Acorn Squash
adapted from Eating Well October 2007
serves 6

3 acorn squash (3/4-1 lb each)
1 teaspoon oil
5 ounces bulk turkey sausage, thawed if frozen
1 small onion, chopped
1/2 medium red bell pepper, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 tablespoon ground cumin
2 cups chopped cherry tomatoes
1 15-ounce can black beans, rinsed
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1 cup shredded Swiss cheese

Preheat oven to 375ºF. Coat a large baking sheet with cooking spray.
Cut each squash in half horizontally. Scoop out and do whatever you want to with the seeds. Place the squash cut side down on the baking sheet. Bake until tender, about 45 minutes.

Swirl oil in skillet and heat over medium heat. Add turkey sausage and cook, stirring and breaking up, until lightly browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Add onion and bell pepper; cook, stirring often, until softened, 3 to 5 minutes. Stir n garlic, chili powder, and cumin; cook for 30 seconds. Stir n tomatoes, beans, and salt, scraping up any browned bits. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer until the tomatoes are broken down, 10 t0 12 minutes.

When squash are tender, reduce oven temperature to 325ºF. Fill the squash halves with the turkey mixture. Top with Swiss cheese. Place on the baking sheet and bake until the cheese is melted, 8 to 10 minutes.

Revisiting The Muffin Man

I'm a bit rusty. I know that sounds odd, but I'm rusty at making muffins. I used to be able to have apple-oat muffins down and be in-and-out with the dishes clean in under an hour. Today it took almost an hour just to get the muffins into the oven. Well, I was also taking pictures (though just quick snips) and being careful with my measurements (metric weights, here I come!) to save time in the future, and I was remembering. I remembered why I love muffins. There's something friendly and forgiving about muffins. They're supposed to be lumpy and bumpy, and a little mistake is easy to cover. If they rise funny, well, its a muffin. I guess it isn't like a cupcake where a mistake can be covered in frosting, but if you bite into a cupcake and it isn't fluffy and uniform, things are a bit wacky. I'm very much pro-muffin and hesitant towards cupcakes, but I guess it is because we do call them muffin pans. And they make a much more satisfying breakfast.

My favorite muffins are apple-oat muffins, and at the farmer's market on Saturday (I thought I had ended, I was so thrilled when I saw an ad on public access!) and saw bins of gorgeous apples, I knew I just had to make some. Most people are dreaming of apple pie right now, but I dream of muffins. Okay, and I'm scared of pie crust. I like mixing things and being done- no rolling pins required. I asked the guy-who-knows-all which apples I should try, and picked up a few. I don't remember their names. I only ended up using one and a half of the apples, the first one was so large, but it was deliciously sweet and crisp. The second one was green and had a familiar, but somewhat deterring, flavor that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I finally recognized it. It tasted kind of like the artificial green apple flavor candies are flavored with. But the apples mixed together and in the muffin made for a tasty muffin.

I'm not sure if it was the extra care put into these, the fresh local apples. or the fact that I bit into one right out of the oven, or the months without then; they seemed yummier, and a bit sweeter, than ever today.

As for trying them with a dab of peanut butter in the middle- I think I'll save it for being slathered on top if I fancy it at the moment.


Updated Apple-Oat Muffins
makes 12

2 1/2 cups (310 g) finely diced apples (about 2 to 3 medium apples, I like it with a mix of sweet/tart apples)
1 cup (130 g) whole-wheat pastry flour
1/2 cup (65g) all-purpose flour
1 cup (95 g) rolled (old-fashioned) oats
2/3 cup (140 g)firmly packed brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup (227 g) plain yogurt
1/4 cup milk
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 large egg

Preheat oven to 400ºF. Grease a muffin tin with cooking spray.

Place apples on paper towels to drain, pat dry.

Combine flours, oats, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon in medium bowl. Whisk together. If small lumps of sugar remain, that's fine. It makes it even better.

In a small bowl, whisk together yogurt, milk, oil, vanilla extract, and egg until smooth.
Make a well in center of flour mixture, stir in milk mixture just until moist. Mix in apple.
Using a #12 scoop, scoop mixture into prepared muffin cups.
Bake 15-20 minutes or until muffins spring back lightly when touched. Remove from pan to cool.

mushroom mixes are helpful

When I first saw this recipe in VT, it popped out at me. And then the magazine got stuck in the part of my bed between my mattress and the frame. But once I remembered it (Saturday), I flipped to it and ran out and bought the ingredients (along with those for S'more Sandwiches). But something happened and it didn't get made until Monday.

I'd already read through the recipe and figured it would take me about an hour. But I'd missed a somewhat time consuming line. Transfer to bowl, and cool 20 minutes. Whatever. I just let it cool enough so that I could handle it (okay, so I put it in the freezer while I prepped the pea puree, but it isn't like that did anything but warm the freezer up).


Mushroom Ravioli with Green Pea Puree
from Vegetarian Times September 2007
serves 4


For Mushroom Ravioli:
2 Tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup chopped onion (1/2 small onion)
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
8 ounces assorted mushrooms, chopped (3 cups)
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
24 wonton wrappers

For Puree:
2 cups frozen peas, thawed
3/4 cup vegetable broth
2 Tbs. grated Parmesan, plus more for garnish

To make the ravioli:
Heat the oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, and cook for 5 to 7 minutes or until translucent and starting to brown. Stir in garlic and thyme, and cook 1 minute more, until fragrant. Add mushrooms and increase heat to high. Saute mushrooms 7 minutes more, or until all liquid has evaporated. Transfer to bowl and cool 20 minutes. Or not.*

Place 1 wonton wrapper on work surface. Fill a small bowl with water. Wet finger and brush edges with water. Spoon 1 teaspoon mushroom mixture in center of wrapper and fold into triangle, pressing edges to seal. Repeat with remaining wrappers and mushroom mixture. To freeze, freeze in individual layers. Once frozen transfer to a freezer bag or container.**

For pea puree and serving:
Blend peas, broth, and cheese in blender until smooth. Transfer to saucepan and warm over medium heat. Season with salt and pepper and set aside.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Add ravioli and cook 2 minutes or until cooked through. Drain.
Spoon pea puree onto plates and top with ravioli. Sprinkle with Parmesan, if desired.

*This would be a good time to make the pea puree. Unless you are freezing them for later, in which case, well, make the pea puree later. It really only takes 5 minutes of paying attention, and 5 minutes of ignoring.

** My wonton wrappers were not squares and that was annoying me when it came time to fold them over. So I cut a stack of them so they were more squares. It made the folding easier. I also used around 30 wonton wrappers, but a package has around 48, so it shouldn't be a problem.

Figuring it out

Not having power for 67 hours gave me time to do some thinking.

Actually, I'll be honest. That had very little to do with the thinking. I was walking home from the store this morning with aseptically-packaged milk and some figs, and instead of paying attention to where I was going, I was thinking about, well, a lot of stuff.

One being, why do I have a blog?
I suppose that Just My Dinner is the only thing I do that can not be classified as a chore or schoolwork, no matter how hard you try. Cooking, well, everyone has to eat, and that is just about my only other hobby.
This also serves as an organizational tool. Without it, if I lost the scratch piece of paper I scrawled random ingredient measurements without any details on it for the almond-cherry cheesecake ice cream I made last week, I wouldn't be able to make it again, which I will probably be doing since my dad's friend called to tell me I should. Make it again that is, not lose my papers. He also told me it was runny and he had to freeze it, so I'm sure how much of it he'd had when he said that. We gave it to him since it had been slowly melting in our freezer over the 29 hours before we gave it to him. It seemed like a better plan than throwing it out.

The other reason being that this is my creative outlet. It allows me to, for however small of an audience, display my "work". Mostly, I just like looking back at it, especially when wanting to make something familiar, and it gives me a chance to flex my finger muscles. No, seriously. I quit playing the piano when I was ten; this really is my finger workout. I don't write much, or at least very little for myself anymore, like I used to when I was in fourth or fifth grade. In seventh grade, when I started my first blog, I wrote little. And it was a recount of my day, almost like a diary lacking those details a person would want to remember looking back at it, because I feared a crazy stalker.

When I went to Iran last summer, I temporarily abandoned my blog in favor a newer one just for that purpose. I felt less restricted, it had no history to tie it down and I was freer. Mom said my history teacher had rubbed off on me and I was writing better. I still think I ramble like I'm trying to cover the state in roads, but maybe it has gotten better.

Now, this is the only blog I tend to, and when I'm pressed for time or ideas, or just sleepy, it is evident. The posts are short and dull. Usually those are ones that I've meant to be so rich, writing them in my head as I walk home from the store or school or take far too long in the shower because I forget to wash my hair because I'm so enraptured by the post I'm mentally writing in my head. Of course, by the time I make it to a computer, I've long forgotten it. Much like this post. I wrote it this morning around nine o'clock, but I'm not quite sure what I meant to say.

This is longer than I've meant it to be. And is missing half of what I wanted to say. But we now have our power back. And lots of thawed meat. Not to mention that school is back in session and back pain is once again upon me. Enjoy these days of summer, and if you want something cool to eat, I really do recommend the almond-cherry cheesecake ice cream. Even though I only had a scoop of it before we lost power in the nasty storm on Thursday.

And no, those figs have no recipe attached to them. I was just excited to see some semi-affordable ones and my hopes were dashed by the blandness. But what did I expect. This is the midwest.

First Day of School With A Cherry On Top

Recipe updated and notes added 1 Sept. 2007 and 2 Sept. 2007

Before I put the batch of ice cream in the ice cream machine this evening, I did homework for three hours. Yes, did, not completed.
And it is only the first day of school. A shortened day of school.

Maybe I should be worried. But it's hard to worry when a cold, creamy dessert is awaiting, with a hint of a pale pink swirl and dots of graham crackers amid tawny specks of toasted almonds (though maybe that's just the pink playing with me.)

The only drawback is this ice cream with a twang, I mean tang, is just a tad bit too sweet for my liking. But mom thinks it is just right. (I ran out of sugar while making it.)

Also, I'm currently in a stage where weights are the nicest measures because they allow for laziness and no scooping or leveling with sugar and flours, so I've embraced them, though I'm trying to be nice and use measures too, but really, I'm lazy.
Mallets really do come in handing for chopping nuts too.


Almond Cherry Cheesecake Ice Cream
loosely adapted from The Ultimate Ice Cream Book by Bruce Weinstein
makes about a quart

3/4 cup (150 g) granulated sugar
1 Tablespoon (14 g) brown sugar
4 ounces (115 g) cream cheese, at room temperature
1 large egg yolk
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
1 1/2 cups whole milk
3/4 cup heavy cream
3 graham cracker sheets (45 g)†
1/2 cup (85 g) whole almonds, toasted and chopped (or hit with a mallet...it does the job)
1/2 cup (120 g) sour cherry preserves* OR 1 cup (200 g) pitted tart/sour cherries, drained**

additional almonds and sour cherry preserves (optional), to serve

Beat the sugar and the cream cheese together until smooth and creamy. Beat in the egg and almond extract. Set aside.

Meanwhile bring the milk to a boil in a heavy medium saucepan. Slowly beat the hot milk into the cheese mixture and pour entire mixture back into pan. Place over low heat and whisk constantly until thickens slightly, about 10 minutes, making sure not to let the mixture come to a boil. (For those who are ready to probe it with a thermometer, the temperature to cook custards to is 170F or 77C. Just don't let it go over 180F or 79C.) Remove from heat and pour through a strainer into a large, clean bowl. Let cool slightly and stir in heavy cream. Cover and refrigerate until cold, about 4 hours or overnight.

Freeze in ice cream maker according to manufacturer's directions. About 5 minutes before done freezing, add almonds and broken bits of graham crackers. Add half of cherry preserves. When ice cream is done, stir in remaining cherry preserves. Place in freezer for at least an hour to harden.

*Our sour cherry preserves, or marabaye abaloo, are homemade. The cherries are whole and in a syrup, so cooking down cherries with lots of sugar and a bit of water will probably yield similar results. I'm not sure what is available at stores involving cherries since I've never bought any, or at least not that I remember buying.
** The second time I made this, I used cherries that had been cooked with sugar and then frozen, the juices reserved and cooked down into a syrup separately. This would probably be easier to replicate, using cherry pie filling that the cherries have been picked out of, or canned pitted cherries. Frozen cherries could work, but it would not be as sweet. Maybe one day I'll try it with one of those to see if it works, but I'm thinking if I run out of cherries I'd just make a different sort of ice cream. Though it is tasty...
†If you prefer ice cream with more chunks in every bite and are a bit overwhelmed by all the almond, then use5 (75 g) graham cracker sheets, and 1/3 cup (50g) toasted almonds instead of the amounts called for. I'm still on the fence about the reduced almonds, but I definitely like the increase in graham crackers.