Rainbow Cookies

Rainbow Cookies is now hosted at Pie of the Tiger

To finish off writing about the Christmas treats I made, here's my last big project of the season (that I managed to get to: Rainbow Cookies from Sherry Yard's fantastic book The Secrets of Baking.



These were hugely popular with everyone who received them. How could they not be, looking that adorably festive on a cookie tray? Everyone wanted to know what they were, and thanks to Yard's engaging storytelling in her second book, I had details to give them on their Italian origins.

They're very pretty, of course, but they taste much more sophisticated than you might expect. It helped that I used a couple of aging bars of very dark Michel Cluizel (my absolute favorite chocolatier in the world) chocolate in the glaze, but the cake's sweetness and almond flavor are very light and subtle. It was only when I tasted one that I realized there was no almond flavoring in the recipe, only almond paste and almond flour, and I think from the photo in the book I was expecting something with the concentrated flavor of the extract.

The only other modification I did to the recipe was to add apricot brandy to the simple syrup I soaked the cake layers with. In my opinion, that was an Incredibly Good Call, and I would even add a little more next time. The whole effect of the "cookie" was good, but the almond cake needed something extra to stand up well against the chocolate glaze. That could've been the due to the chocolate I used, but I wouldn't want to use anything less potent in the future.

I'll definitely make these again--I'll probably have to, considering how much everyone liked them. Next year, though, I'll cut them in smaller pieces. Mine were pretty small, but I found these were best one bite at a time, and more than once I noticed people wanting to split one.

The Christmas Unicorn

The Christmas Unicorn is now hosted at Pie of the Tiger

I had more people to give gifts to, so I made another round of Christmas cookies this week. I wanted to do a half batch of the icing and tried to wing it with the corn syrup and milk measurements so as not to dirty more dishes, but it didn't set up quite as well, so next time I will be meticulous with my measurements! I was also hampered by the fact that it was the middle of the night. But a few turned out to be cute despite my best attempts to ruin them, so I thought I'd share.



My best friend loves unicorns, and when I was going through my cookie cutters, I found a unicorn one. After my success with the Dala horses, I wanted to try one in a similar style. There's another photo of him here.

(It seems like an odd connection, and it was to me in the making of it, but I just remembered that the unicorn was a symbol for Christ in the Middle Ages, so it's not as incongruous as I thought.)



The more ornaments I decorated, the more they started to look like hot air balloons. I think that will be one of my next cookie cutter shapes.

Chocolate Covered Cherries, Part 2

Chocolate Covered Cherries, Part 2 is now hosted at Pie of the Tiger

Printable Recipe

Last time on As the Fondant Liquefies, we made cherry-flavored fondant and dipped maraschino cherries in it, in preparation for dipping them in chocolate. Really, that's the hardest part of the whole process.

I decided to make another batch of cherries after the ones I documented in the original post and test the theory the Geeky Gnu and I had about pulling the hot fondant from the start instead of trying to cool it with a scraper on my small piece of marble. That and I wanted to prove I could do it all by myself. It worked very well, actually. After awhile, I got into a rhythm where I was kneading it like a cat, pressing half the mass of hot sugar down on the Silpat-covered marble with one hand and then the other half with the other, stretching it as high as I could each time. The fondant seemed to turn out much better--and crystallize much faster--this way.


Here's what it looked like when I managed to pull it away from my fingers and deposit it in a bowl:



And here it is after resting it overnight:



You can see how matte and powdery it looks, which I think is what we were going for. The problem with agitating the fondant by pulling and kneading it by hand is that the corn syrup imparts serious levels of stickiness to the stuff. Latex gloves were useless, because the fondant instantly bonded to them and wouldn't let go--fortunately, it wasn't so attached to my bare hands. My arms and hands and shoulders got very tired from the process, but at the same time I was fascinated by just how sticky it was, gluing my fingers together to the point that it was difficult to spread them. The novelty of it (and, of course, the sense of accomplishment, after having the task taken away from me by the big strong men the night before) definitely compensated for any and all physical discomfort. It was way more amazing than tiring, and I had fun laughing at myself for getting into this literal mess.

Mr. Gnu also made another batch of fondant using a food processor or a mixer, but he'll have to speak to how that worked out himself since I wasn't there for the making or using of it. I hear it turned out well...and he didn't have his fingers stuck together for twenty minutes.



The fondant dipping went much as it had the last time, although I did pick up a new trick. Mr. Gnu noted that the cherries that leaked the most at the top tended to be the ones that had fondant coating their stems. When I dipped my own batch, I tried to be very careful not to get any on the stems, but it seemed more important to make sure every glimpse of red cherry was blotted out by pink sugariness. Once the fondant had set, though, I found it was easy to remove just the fondant on the stems with a quick twist of it around the stems between my fingers, breaking and crumbling it away and leaving the cherry completely coated.

All right, that's enough about the fondant! It's time to move onto the reason we're all here: the chocolate.

First, you'll want to temper your chocolate using your favorite method (if you have one; if not, I suspect a Google search could take you to a better explanation than I would give at the moment). You can use white, milk, or dark chocolate for this, depending on how sweet you want the results to be. I lean toward a full-flavored dark chocolate to contrast with the intensely sweet cherries and fondant. The Callebaut I picked up was only about 52%, but it's a wonderful chocolate with plenty of cocoa flavor, not too much sugar, and a rich texture.



One of the biggest problems with chocolate-covered cherries is their tendency to leak through any weak spots in the chocolate, especially around the stems and on the bottoms, where the cherry will often sink through the chocolate before it sets and leave an instant hole underneath. I'd run into this when I'd made chocolate-covered cherries for the first time, so I tried a technique I found in Chocolates and Confections: Formula, Theory, and Technique for the Artisan Confectioner. I did a quick-and-dirty version of the advice he had, and piped discs of chocolate and let them set before I started to dip the cherries (you can see a few of them in the photo above). Then, I set each freshly-coated cherry onto a disc. It kept a layer of chocolate between the cherry and the Silpat, so for the most part it was a success, although I did have a couple where cherry syrup leaked out between the base and the chocolate around the cherry.

After that, it's just a matter of covering the cherries in chocolate. I found that holding the stem and dragging the cherry from side to side once or twice, letting the chocolate come right up to the stem, coated them nicely. Then I pulled them up, let a little of the chocolate drip off, and touched the bottom of the cherry to the surface of the chocolate once or twice to encourage more of the excess chocolate to stay behind. Once I was satisfied that there wasn't enough chocolate to form a gigantic foot around the bottom on the tray, I set the cherry on one of the discs I piped beforehand and left it to set up.



I also decorated some in the second batch with multicolored sanding sugar and sprinkles. Even though it looks okay in that photo, I don't recommend using the sanding sugar on chocolate. It looked pretty at first, but as the chocolate set the sugar took on a murky quality, especially from a distance. The sprinkles, however, looked bright and cheerful. They were a hit with a lot of people, but I didn't feel like the cherries needed the extra crunch from the sprinkles. There's enough contrast between the gooey centers and the chocolate as it is.



This is an example of a leaking cherry, although often they're more messy than this one. As I've noted before, the best way to avoid this is to make sure the cherry itself is completely covered in fondant, and then make sure the fondant is completely covered in an even layer of chocolate. Still, even if you're careful, you'll probably make a few cherries weep. Don't worry. They still taste just as good, and they don't seem to spoil any faster...not that I've ever had cherries around long enough to know just how long their shelf life is.

As for storing the cherries, if you don't have a baker's rack and zillions of sheet pans in your kitchen (someday, someday....), I recommend hitting up your friendly neighborhood pizza joint and asking very, very nicely for a few unused boxes. (Leave a generous tip in exchange, so they'll be open to doing it again!) Mr. Gnu was kind enough to stop at Pagliacci's on the way over and pick up ten extra large ones (we didn't need that many, but I know they will get used in the future since I already am temporarily storing coconut macaroons in one, and I've used them to dry royal icing flowers in the past). Line the box with parchment or wax paper to protect the box from leaking cherries, and you'll be able to reuse it.

If you use invertase in your fondant (see the first cherry post for more info on that), the cherries will need to sit out at room temperature for three to four days before they will be completely liquefied. If you don't have invertase, the cherries will take up to two weeks to liquefy, which means you have to plan ahead. Invertase is easily purchased online and inexpensive, although I now have a larger quantity of it living in my fridge than I'll use in my lifetime.




In the end, the cherries were a huge hit with everyone we gave them to. I wrapped two packages together for each family and couple in clear-topped plastic containers, one of cookies and one with chocolate-covered cherries and rainbow cookies. More than once, the person opening the present handed the cookies to the other recipient and hid the cherries for themselves! I think the best part about them is that they aren't hard to make, but enough delicious ingredients and extremely pleasant work go into them that they truly feel like you've made them with love, which I know I did.

But I can't help but wish that I could have given them dressed in just their shimmering, shiny pink sugar coatings. I suppose that's one of those rare glimpse of ineffable beauty that are too fragile or fleeting to be seen by anyone but the cook.



Printable Recipe

Christmas Cookies

Christmas Cookies is now hosted at Pie of the Tiger

I'm halfway through documenting my chocolate-covered cherry obsession this Christmas, but I'm going to pause to post some photos of the other thing I was determined to make this year: decorated sugar cookies. Not underachiever sugar cookies, like I've let myself down with before, but ones that I took the time to make look pretty enough that I have to keep sneaking peeks at them, like a narcissist employed at a mirror factory.



Early in the month, I had some friends over to make Christmas cookies with me, and I tested out the sugar cookie recipe in Sherry Yard's The Secrets of Baking. I loved the recipe--I've loved every recipe I've tried out of her books--other than having to learn the hard way that the dough really does need to be quite frozen through the whole process of cutting out the shapes. They kept their shape beautifully, held together after they cooled, and tasted wonderful, buttery with the perfect sugar cookie texture.



Inspired by my favorite store-bought sugar cookies--made by Little Rae's Bakery here in Seattle--I mixed up icing made from powdered sugar and lime juice (yum, though I had to make some with lemon juice for Mr. Bee because wives sometimes cave in like that) and pressed them into a bowl of sanding sugar. They captured the crunch of the sugar on Little Rae's cookies, which is what I love so much about them. The only thing I really needed to change was to make the cookies thicker, so I decided to use that recipe for my cookies later in the month.



When my mom and my sister-in-law came over to bake cookies, I made a triple batch of the cookie dough and rolled it out extra thick, only making about three half sheet pan-sized sheets with all of that dough. It worked just as well thick as it had thin, and I froze all of my trees and reindeer, angels and ornaments to be frosted later on in the season.



Along came the great snow day that went on...and on...and on, until the day had become a week and we still hadn't left the house. With Baker Bee home, it was both hard to get things done and very easy to while away the hours baking and taking pictures of the results. Still, by the morning of Christmas Eve, I hadn't frosted the cookies. I had, fortunately, taken them out of the freezer a day or two before, but that's as far as I'd gotten. I'd had grand visions of whipping up royal icing and piping the heck out of those cookies. You know, proving that I still knew my way around a star tip and so on. But time? Not on my side, at all.



I'd signed up for Food Buzz a couple days before, and there I ran into a tutorial on cookie decorating with glacé icing posted at Our Best Bites. Her cookies looked absolutely beautiful, jewel-like with their colors and sheen, and having the icing actually taste good sounded like a strong point in the favor of glacé over royal, since her recipe was very similar to what I'd done before, only heavier on the dairy than the flavoring, rather than the other way around, and containing corn syrup, which I'd forgotten was a good thing to include.

Still, I felt a little...well, like I was approaching the half-assedness I had set out to avoid in the first place. I was supposed to be spending hours and hours aggravating my poor sore wrist and shoulder with the piping. And the last time I'd tried to decorate cookies with this kind of icing in multiple colors...it hadn't gone well. I remember thinking that those were some ugly Thanksgiving Day turkeys to be putting out on a restaurant buffet.



But there was the time thing, and the snow-exhaustion/cabin fever to account for, and I mixed my powdered sugar and corn syrup and milk together, adding a splash each of lemon and orange extracts. I ended up adding some real lemon juice later, to give the icing more of the bite I enjoyed in the previous cookies I iced, and next time I think I'd try replacing some of the milk with lemon juice, but the cookies really did taste fantastic.



As for the looks? Well, I was worse than a narcissist in that proverbial mirror factory. I love the way this icing looks--how the colors swirl and meld together, how bright the colors stay, how it just shines. And even a week later the icing still isn't hard as a rock like royal icing. (I know this from just having consumed the final cookie left of the batch before starting this post. For inspiration, of course.) I think I like them better than the fanciest cookies I've ever piped. They're much more elegant.



My only complaint is that the shine does dull a bit after the first twenty-four hours, and the edges of the colors seemed to blur just a little, tiny bit over the past week. Of course, that just means they have to be made soon before they're served or given as gifts. And if I make them too early and they start to dull, then I'll just have to eat them myself and start from scratch.

Snow Day Spaghetti

Snow Day Spaghetti is now hosted at Pie of the Tiger

In Seattle, snow is as rare as rain is common. Possibly more so, seeing as our reputation as a rainy city is partially true and partially a fable told and retold to Californians in an effort to keep them from moving to the area (judging from the traffic--and the fact that I'm married to a former Californian--it hasn't worked as well as we hoped). When we do get snow, the streets are merely wet by evening, icy by midnight, and the snow by the roadside is melted by the next afternoon. We get even less here, sheltered in a narrow band between the backside of a hill and Lake Washington. As a child, I remember it snowing two or three times a year, with at least one snow day thrown in, but the climate has changed since then, and we generally only see one sticking snowfall a year, or two at the most.

Someone should tell all of that to the seven inches that's set up camp in my yard, and the ice packed onto every roadway. It's overstayed its welcome.

Oh, it was a fun guest on Thursday when it all fell in a matter of hours. The whole day took on the feel of a real snow day, complete with powdery snowman snow, another rarity in our region. Our snowballs usually crumble or pack down to nothing but lethal ice. Baker Bee was off work and baking Portuguese sweet bread from The Bread Baker's Apprentice (which makes the best toast and French toast I've ever had, especially when topped with my dad's apple butter--we went through a whole jar on two loaves), and a couple of snowed-in friends stopped off in the middle of a walk for rest and a warm drink. I continued reaquainting myself with tools and supplies from pastry school and cake decorating. Opening the tubs that had been gathering dust in the spare bedroom for far too long now was enough like tearing into Christmas presents to infuse the day with a festive spirit. It was the first snow day I've had as an adult that really felt like a snow day.

Yesterday, however, without fresh flakes to revive it, the snow started to take on the appearance of a houseguest who'd lost all of their luggage down to their tolietry kit but insisted they could "get by" until the airline came through and delivered their stuff. It looked cold and tired, and the prospect of the winter storm that's supposed to hit on Sunday made it not seem like quite the miracle it had been the day before. The fun was gone for the most part, but Baker Bee did bake another loaf of bread--a Italian-ish white loaf with some of the new sour we're cultivating in the fridge. It didn't turn out very sour--I didn't really expect it to have much sour to it yet--but it did have a lot of flavor, so Mr. Bee suggested we should make pasta to go with it.

I decided I didn't want anything heavy, like the cheese sauce Baker Bee wanted to make. Olive oil and roasted veggies seemed like the best way to go. I thought about the vegetables we had in the fridge--vegetables that needed attention as soon as possible, since the vegetable barely stew he'd made on Monday had been too good to think of cooking anything else before it was all gone. Crimini mushrooms, mixed bell peppers, broccoli florets, Campari tomatoes. Not my usual combination for pasta, but okay. And then I got out a big casserole dish and started slicing vegetables.

In the pan, I tossed the mushrooms, orange and red bell peppers, and broccoli with olive oil, coarsely-chopped garlic, salt, black pepper, and a mixture of dried oregano, basil, thyme and marjoram, then put it in to roast at 375° for about 45 or 50 minutes total. I stirred the veggies every five to seven minutes, a bit more often than I probably should have but I kept smelling something charring in the oven, like a barbeque, which might have been the mushrooms sticking out on top or (more likely) some of the cornmeal that has escaped off of Baker Bee's pizza stone during the bread-baking spree.

When I opened the door each time, though, a wonderful aroma bathed my face along with the steam, carrying with it the smell of the roasted vegetables reminded me most of the ones I get on my sandwiches at a place called Grinders up north when I go to watch True Blood with a writing friend. (If you live in the area and end up north of Shoreline on Aurora sometime, make sure to stop there for lunch. So, so messy and so, so good. Plus the amibiance inside is a lot cooler than you might guess from the location and the outside of the building.)

The tomatoes went in separately, quartered and lying on their backs, with more olive oil and a good dusting of (vegetarian) bacon salt and regular sea salt. I think they shared the oven with the other vegetables for about the last 15 minutes. When they started looking happy and roasted, I shut off the oven, opened the door a bit and left all the vegetables in there to keep warm while Baker Bee made the whole wheat spaghetti and tossed it with a jar of organic heirloom pasta sauce we got to try. (It was very good, by the way...tasty but thin enough not to compete with the veggies.) Once all was ready, we layered the veggies over the pasta and sprinkled it all with parmesan cheese.

I was expecting a lot less from this pasta than it delivered, possibly because I don't normally roast the vegetables that I put in with pasta--it's far too easy to boil some broccoli in the same water as the pasta and call it slightly healthy. But the texture of the vegetables and the pasta were just right. The "tooth-feel" of the mushrooms in particular was exactly what I was looking for, which was a roasted equivalent of the perfectly cooked mushrooms in Baker Bee's vegetable barely stuff earlier in the week. The flavors were the sort that get better as you eat. I thought I was getting full and set my plate aside, but soon I was craving the pasta again and took it back in hand. All in all, a warm, flavorful dish that took me immediately back to my cozy snow day feeling from the day before.

Cranberry Meringue Tart

Cranberry Meringue Tart is now hosted at Pie of the Tiger

Ever since I first saw the picture of the cute little Mini Cranberry Meringue Pies in Martha Stewart Living a couple years ago, I've wanted to make them. Their photo showed one sliced down the middle, exposing the jewel-like filling and the lightness of the meringue to full effect. I never got around to it, but this year I decided to try all new recipes for Thanksgiving, and this went to the top of my list.

I made a few mistakes along the way. Mistakes like forgetting the egg in the citrus pate sucree (I put it to the left of the food processor and the rest of my mise en place to the right) and experimenting with a store-bought carton of egg whites for the meringue when I didn't have time to make a second batch. However, even without that egg, the pate sucree was possibly the best tart crust I've ever made, and several people complimented it. It uses both lemon and orange zest, a flavor combination that I used in my wedding cake years ago that really seemed to punch up the flavor.

But there was no blessing in disguise in regards to the meringue, unless I count the reminder that things never go well when I try to cut corners. At least this time it was in the spirit of experimentation and not just out of laziness, as usual. I used the Trader Joe's 100% egg whites, and I knew that they weren't going to be ideal when I saw how cloudy they were, but I went ahead and made the meringue. The foam ended up looking, well, very insipid and watery, not the airy dollop of heaven that I wanted to recreate from the magazine. By the time I was done, there was no time left, so the mediocre meringue went on the tart and I did my best to torch it, even though it didn't want to brown properly.

Despite all of that, I don't think I've ever had a dessert disappear so quickly at a big family event or gotten quite so many compliments and questions. I kept being surprised that people liked it, because I wasn't entirely pleased with the mouth feel of the cranberry filling, as pretty as it was. It had that gross texture that comes from too much cornstarch, so next time I make this I'll either decrease the cornstarch or experiment with some of the alternate thickners my husband has been playing with in his attempts at molecular gastronomy, now that we have a kitchen that we can actually cook in again. The xanthan gum marshmallows he made last week were a huge success, so I'm reading up on hydrocolloides now, too.

As I said above, I picked out a number of new holiday recipes to try this year. When I ate meat, Thanksgiving was one of my favorite holidays, and I've been trying to recreate that experience in a vegetarian way for eight years now, with varying amounts of success. This year, though, inspired by the new kitchen, I decided to try to find some new flavors to turn into new traditions, rather than continue to try to recreate the omnivore's version of the holiday. Pretty much all of them (other than a new twist on the savory seitan and mushroom dish I've come up with to stand in for turkey) came from Martha Stewart--I rarely turn to her during the rest of the year, but the recipes in the holiday issues of the magazine are always really appealing to me, so much so that I keep them in their own binder on my cookbook shelf.

Cauliflower Gratin with Endive was delicious--cheesy without being greasy at all, and the Israeli couscous scattered in the bottom of the pan absorbed the sauce but held its shape in a texturally interesting way.

Stuffing was always my favorite part of Thanksgiving, so it took a lot strength to turn my back on the plain old crouton, celery and sage type stuff we always had. The Cornbread, Wild Mushroom and Pecan Stuffing I settled on was so good I just wanted to hold it on my tongue and not swallow it, or even chew it.

We used maitake, hedgehog and oyster mushrooms--I'd never cooked with hedgehog mushrooms, and they were extremely tasty!--so it wasn't inexpensive. Otherwise, I would've made another pan straight away and wolfed it down at home. I have plans to try it with less expensive mushrooms soon. The pecans were a revelation. I've often put walnuts into savory cooking, but I think this was my first time using pecans that way, and they complemented the mushrooms very well.

It seems like we made another new dish, but I can't think of what it was, other than the seitan stuff, where the newness of it lay mostly in my husband's interpretation of how to cook it based on my instructions I yelled from the shower. That and he tried a trick for quickly browning onions by adding baking soda to them that he read about somewhere online. It worked. But it also made the onions completely dissolve...which had the effect of coating the seitan in the onion pulp and frying it onto it. Not what we were going for, but I think I'll do it again next time we make it.