Tag: pie

baking

Why double when you can triple?

wittychild

Maybe it’s a side effect of the pandemic, but I don’t bake as much as I used to. Sure, I’ll bake a batch of cupcakes or muffins sometimes, or my grandmother’s chocolate chip cookies, or mini cheesecakes if I’m feeling really ambitious, but…that’s the exception rather than the rule. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a huge sweet tooth, but these days I’d rather pick up a package of cookies from the grocery store if I’m craving something than be on my feet in the kitchen for ages.

But for one brief, shining moment I felt a flicker of my old self when I made the Triple Chocolate Hazelnut Brownie Pie from the Kitchen Magpie‘s book Flapper Pie and a Blue Prairie Sky for Mother’s Day.

What can I say? My mom likes chocolate – and has a way bigger sweet tooth than I do.

There are a lot of steps, but they aren’t difficult, and the end product looks way more impressive than the effort it actually took.

First, a chocolate crumb crust:

I know from this picture it looks level to the top of the pan, but I promise there’s a recess for filling. This pie pan has the weirdest-angled sides.

Next, a layer of brownie:

And then, while the brownie is still hot, some Nutella spread over the whole thing (or Kraft chocolate hazelnut spread, if that’s what’s available at your local grocery store).

See? I told you there was space in the middle.

One thing that really made this feel next-level for me? Toasting my own hazelnuts for the garnish. I’ve toasted coconut and sesame seeds (not at the same time), but this was a first for me.

Who would have thought that something as simple as chucking them in the oven for 10 minutes – when it had already been turned on to bake the brownie – would transform them like this? The flavour was so different before and after.

Once the brownie layer cooled completely, I made a chocolate hazelnut mousse to spread on top, and garnished with pieces of toasted hazelnut and chocolate curls. The curls weren’t called for in the original recipe, but while searching the bulk store for nuts I found a bin of curls and thought they’d make a nice addition.

The true test was going to come when we cut into the pie. Did it work?

It did! (Also, look at the angle of the pan’s sides. Crazy, man!)

I would like to go on record as stating that I cut that first piece entirely too large. This dessert is rich, and a small slice is more than enough to savour the magic of chocolate and hazelnuts.

Rich or not, my mom absolutely loved it, so mission accomplished.

Thanks for looking! 🙂

baking

Hé ho, let’s go!

wittychild

I’ll spare you all the long and fabled history of the French-Canadian fur traders, because it’s widely available elsewhere. I had to learn about it in school, and even then, my strong pull toward an indoorsy life prevented me from fully embracing the spirit of the voyageur.

Recently, the newspaper published a recipe for tarte au sucre, a.k.a sugar pie. I hadn’t thought about it since I made one back in Grade 5 as part of the aforementioned school experience, but thought it sounded simple enough to try again. My baking buddy was enthusiastic when I showed him the recipe, and was even kind enough to pick up any missing ingredients from the store.

What you’ll need:

  • one (1) unbaked pie shell, deep-dish preferred (we used a frozen one)
  • 1 1/2 cups brown sugar
  • 1/4 cup flour
  • 1 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream (35%)

The recipe doesn’t call for it, but we added a generous splash of vanilla.

Turn the oven to 350°F, and while it comes to temperature, mix the brown sugar and flour together until well-combined. If your sugar is lumpy, break those puppies down. We used a fork to crumble them and incorporate them.

Next, add your whipping cream and mix well.

Pour the whole shebang into your pie shell, and bake for an hour.

The recipe warned about the potential for bubbling over, so we set our pie tin on a parchment-lined cookie sheet. It only cooked over a tiny bit, but it was nice not to have to scrape that off the bottom of the oven.

Cool completely before cutting.

I think ours might have been not-quite-100% cooled when we cut a trial piece, and our first reaction was: “Holy cow, is this sweet!” My ten-year old self hadn’t had a problem with it, but that was a lot of years ago.

For the next slice, it was definitely, positively cooled, and when it was topped with a bit of whipped cream, it wasn’t half-bad. With my 21st century, indoorsy ways, I wouldn’t want much more than a small piece in a single sitting – but I can appreciate why this would be a treat if one didn’t normally eat ultra-processed foods already crammed with hidden sugar.

And because there’s always pop-culture inspiration behind my makes, here’s what was going through my head as we baked:

Quite the fusion bake, no?

Thanks for looking! 🙂

baking

Cross my heart and hope to die, here’s the digits that make pi…

wittychild

3.14159265358979323846…. (see here)

Happy Pi Day! (Pie Day?) Although I have made pie before, with reasonable success, it’s not my first choice of things to make. My pastry is okay (my mom’s is a million times better), and I honestly find it a bit fussy, with the cutting-in of butter/Tenderflake, the keeping it cold, the not overworking… Someone else can do the baking, thanks; I’m happy to just be a taste-tester.

I was inspired partly, I admit, by Lara Jean’s turnovers in To All the Boys: P.S. I Still Love You – yay for Netflix original movies! – but thought this seemed like a good time to find a way to slake those pie cravings without getting up to my elbows in flour. And if they were individually portioned, that would be great, too.

Did someone say hand pies?

Presenting…pie in less than an hour.

Start with your base ingredients:

This is it, plus an egg and some white sugar. That’s all. So far, so good, right?

Start with one of the two crusts in your box. They come round, to fit into a pie pan, so we squared out the corners as best we could. Hey, this was for home consumption, and appearance wasn’t going to count for too much. Score your dough into eights – a 4 x 2 arrangement. Half of these are going to be your bottom crusts, and the other half will be your top crusts. Try to pair the funny-shaped ones together. Heck, if your cutting is more precise than ours was, you should have mirror-image pieces for easy pairing.

Arrange on a parchment-lined baking sheet. We used smaller sheets, so four felt like an adequate number to make at a time. We got four complete pies from each dough round, for a total of eight.

Spoon your filling into the centre of each bottom crust, and brush the edges with an egg wash (really just one beaten egg) so that the tops will stick. I hate to be the bearer of retroactive bad news, but that’s way too much filling you’re seeing. Use less than we did. It’s tempting to fill them to the gills, but don’t. You’ll want a nice wide border along the edge for your top to stick to, no matter how delicious you think cherries are.

Speaking of your tops: perforate them with a common dinner fork, and set each one on its corresponding bottom. Use your fork to press the edges together, crimping them as you go along. See that ooze along the sides? Like I said, use less filling. Learn from my mistakes. Oy. Once your edges are all crimped, brush them with some egg wash and sprinkle with a bit of white sugar, if desired. Coarse sugar would be an excellent substitute, if you like a little bit of extra crunch. We baked ours at 375° for 17 minutes, but time and temperature could vary depending on whether your oven runs hot or cool. We had set the timer for 20 minutes initially, but pulled them out early…

…and had these to show for it. The murder-scene cherry ooze would have bothered me if I were trying to impress a VIP, but for home consumption, it wasn’t an issue. (And anyway, once they cooled, any excess ooze stayed on the parchment.) The tops look a little thin and delicate, likely from the dough being rolled thinner than was prudent, but the taste wasn’t impacted.

These are kind of the culinary equivalent of rounding pi down to 3, but if you’re craving pi…er, pie…they’ll do the trick.

Thanks for looking! 🙂

baking, cooking

“M” is for “May” and “Mother” and “Meringue”…

wittychild

Note: This post was originally written and meant to be posted on Sunday; however, because of some technical issues with WordPress first obscuring my photos and then abruptly deleting my entire text, there has been a slight delay.

My neighbours, who are DINKs (to clarify: very nice people, who happen to be Dual Income, No Kids), made the rookie mistake of going out for breakfast this morning.  The restaurant, they reported later, was absolutely packed.  You people have no children!  That’s a free pass from having to do the Mother’s Day brunch mob!  That’s one big advantage to not having kids!  Of course, the advantage to having children who are old enough to use the stove without summoning the local fire department is that you also get to avoid the crowds, and enjoy a home-cooked breakfast, possibly still in your pajamas.

I had mulled over a few ideas for what to make for breakfast, but decided to go with an old standby: giant(ish) baked apple pancakes, which I’ve posted on here before.  They come together really quickly, and yet look so impressive – because whoa, that thing’s the size of my plate!

Just after coming out of the oven, all puffed-up and golden at the edges.

The butter and brown sugar create a built-in syrup of sorts as it bakes, no maple required.  Fun fact: I once forgot to add the brown sugar to the pie pans before baking, and although they released super-easily, they were a little dry and not…quite…right.

I also wanted to make something for dessert, but not the same-old.  Cupcakes are nice, and all, but it’s been done.  While flipping through my collection of cookbooks, I found a recipe for flapper pie in the Kitchen Magpie’s book.  (Hardly surprising, since said book is titled Flapper Pie and a Blue Prairie Sky.)  The recipe took me a little bit out of my comfort zone, but seemed fairly simple, so I thought I’d give it a go.

Did I say “a little bit out of my comfort zone”?  This thing had me tense.  It was only the second time I’ve had to make a thick, pudding-like filling using cornstarch and heat as my catalysts (the first time was the pudding for my Brooklyn Blackout Cake), and I thought it was never going to thicken.  When it did, though, did it ever.  One minute, I was stirring what was in essence a pot of liquid, and the next it was producing a diabolical plopping sound as it came to a boil, and I’m pretty sure I could have gotten my spoon to stand up in the middle of it.  Also, I had never had occasion to make meringue before, and was convinced I would never get stiff peaks out of what seemed like fairly benign ingredients.  But lo (and behold!), the Kitchen Magpie did not fail me, and before long I was topping my pie and popping it into the oven to brown up.

It didn’t come out of the pan quite as neatly as I would have liked, but it did stay more-or-less intact, and tastes like it’s supposed to.  Certainly the Woman of the Hour was impressed – and that’s what matters, right?

Thanks for reading – Happy Mother’s Day! 🙂
baking, Cross-stitch and Embroidery

So Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny walk into a bar…

wittychild

Wait.  What?

Okay, so I’m not insanely early with this, I swear.  Just kinda, sorta four months late.  I think my inner monologue started something like this (perhaps abridged for the sake of time and space): “Oh, boy, I love doing Mill Hill beaded kits.  They’re so quick and cute, and if I start stitching now I’ll have this finished in plenty of time for Christmas…All right, now that I’ve got the stitching finished, all that’s left is to add the beads.  Ooh, they’ll twinkle nicely when this is hanging on the Christmas tree….Oh, well [bad word]!  There’s a bead stuck on my needle!  Hmm, maybe if I try pushing it back off the way it came…nope…”

One of the red beads got stuck (as in, super-stuck) on my beading needle.  Right over the eye.  I could neither slide it over the eye and down to its rightful place on the ornament nor slide it back off.  Considering that at this point I had already completed most of the beading and had, oh, three red beads to go, I was considerably unimpressed by this development.  So I calmly and rationally did what any psychologically normal person would do: stuffed the entire works into a drawer to be ignored until some to-be-determined point in the future when I felt like dealing with it.

A few weeks ago, I happened to bitterly mumble something about “that [bad word] bead”, to which my mom replied, “Why don’t you just take a pair of pliers and crush it?  You do have extras, right?”  Genius!  So, yesterday I took a pair of pliers and crushed the sodding little thing to bits, whereupon I cheerfully resumed my otherwise pleasant little project.  Here it is, with one of my mom’s potted plant-like things standing in for a Christmas tree.  Hey, foliage is foliage:

It’s called “Kitty’s Gift”, and I can see now that I need to trim the backing paper on it…but I’ve still got eight months or so.  She looks rather like my youngest cat, too.

Gratuitous cat shot:

(Yes, the cat, I got dressed up in time for Christmas.  The tree, not so much.)

Also on my list of Easter weekend homemakery, I made a pie from scratch for the first time.  Well, the crust is from scratch, at least.  I didn’t want to go to all the trouble of doing a scratch filling only to find out that the crust was going to be inedible, but…next time!  I used the Buttery Double Crust recipe from Vegan Pie in the Sky by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero, and dumped a can of peach-passionfruit filling in between.  The edge of the crust turned out a little lumpy and imperfect, but I’m still satisfied for a first attempt:

My Pennsylvania RR Peach Passionfruit Pie.  One of the pies in the book shows a crust with little stars cut out; I happened to have a small locomotive cookie cutter handy so used that instead.

I could use more four-day weekends.  I get so much more done around the house than I do at work.  🙂