Crostata with Pears, Apples, and Taleggio

I was flipping tv channels a couple of weeks ago, and I caught the very end of a segment in which Giada was making a rustic crostata with dried apricots, walnuts, and cubes of taleggio. It sounded like such an interesting mix, and it sounded so autumnal, I was sure I could make it seem like fall around here by baking it. By the time I was ready to get baking, we had received some apples and pears from our CSA, so I changed the plan just slightly by using those fresh fruits instead of dried apricots. Now, about that cheese, yes, it is usually a savory cheese. Taleggio is a soft, washed rind cheese that’s relatively mild-flavored, and I was curious about how it would work in a sweet dessert. As it melted into the fruit and nuts, it added richness and interest, and if you weren’t told it was there, you might not realize there was cheese in the filling at all. The crostata was perfect served warm from the oven, and I preferred the leftovers re-heated rather than served cold from the refrigerator.

There wasn’t just cheese in the filling, there was also mascarpone in the crust. The dough was made in a food processor by combining flour, salt, sugar, and butter. It was pulsed until the butter was coarsely mixed into the flour, and mascarpone and lemon juice were added. The machine was pulsed a few more times, and then it was left running briefly while ice water was added. The dough was wrapped and refrigerated for 30 minutes before being rolled out on parchment paper cut to the size of a baking sheet. That was a great tip by the way. By rolling the dough on parchment paper, it was very easy to lift the paper and move it with the dough to a baking sheet in one fell swoop. Then, the dough was topped with a mixed of chopped pears, apples, walnuts, half of the cubed taleggio, a little flour since I was using fresh fruit, lemon zest, cinnamon, sea salt, and honey. The edges of the dough were rolled up and over, and the remaining cubed cheese was scattered on top. The dough edges received an egg wash, and the crostata baked for about 40 minutes.

I will say this is not a dessert for ice cream or whipped cream on the side. It requires no embellishment, but it was delicious with a glass of wine. Nuts, honey, fruit, and cheese were enveloped in a golden, flaky crust, and the warm, sweet flavors were accented by the mildly tangy cheese. It’s still about 95 degrees, so I didn’t make fall happen, but the flavors made it seem like fall should be coming soon.

Red Wine Braised Short Ribs with Creamy Mascarpone Polenta

Once a year or so, I experiment with cooking beef. I guess it’s a sign that I really am obsessed with learning more about cooking since I don’t eat red meat. Kurt does eat red meat, and he’s my audience and critic when I attempt one of these meals. This time, I decided I really wanted to watch the transformation of beef short ribs during a long, slow braise. I felt it necessary to stick to an exact recipe, so I presented a couple of options from different books to Kurt. He chose the red wine braised short ribs from Stir: Mixing It Up in the Italian Tradition by Barbara Lynch. It’s a fairly straightforward approach to short ribs as far as I know. For side dishes, otherwise known as my complete meal, I made the creamy mascarpone polenta also from Stir and roasted some broccoli and cauliflower with whole garlic cloves.

Lynch’s approach to the short ribs is to cook them even longer than usual at an even lower temperature. They can definitely be made in advance and simply re-heated for serving. In fact, that’s the best way to deal with the sauce. To start, the short ribs were seasoned well and then seared in a hot saute pan with canola oil. I knew not to crowd the pan, so I seared the ribs in two batches, and to my nose, my kitchen still smells like beef. Kurt doesn’t seem to mind. Once seared on all sides, the ribs went into a large roasting pan, and the sauce was started. In the same saute pan, onion, celery, carrot, and garlic were sauteed. When those vegetables were tender and browned, a bottle of red wine, thyme sprigs, bay leaves, peppercorns, whole coriander, and chopped tomato were added. That was cooked until reduced by half. Then, broth was added and brought to a boil. The whole mixture of liquid and vegetables was poured over the ribs in the roasting pan. The pan was covered with parchment and foil, and it went into a 275 F oven for five hours.

I can’t take much credit for the meat doing what it does in a flavorful braising liquid while being slowly roasted for hours, but it did indeed arrive at the falling off the bone state. I let the meat cool in the roasting pan until touchable and then transferred it to another large baking dish. The braising liquid was strained into a large saucepan, and some of it was poured over the ribs in the new dish. Both the ribs and sauce were covered and refrigerated for a couple of hours. That was just enough time for the fat to congeal on the surface of the sauce, and that makes it much easier to remove than skimming a warm sauce repeatedly. The de-fatted sauce was then brought to a simmer and reduced while the short ribs were re-heated in a 300 F oven. Just before serving, a tablespoon of butter and some thyme leaves were whisked into the sauce.

The ribs were well-received, and Kurt confirmed they were cooked to complete tenderness. Yes, they spend forever braising, and beef fat is a crazy thing to smell in my kitchen, but I had a new cooking experience and everything turned out great. That’s not the end of the story though. I have to tell you about the incredibly simple polenta. It was a basic polenta made with coarse ground cornmeal and milk. After the polenta was thickened and fully cooked, butter and mascarpone were stirred into it. That was it, but what a polenta it became. I’m told it worked well with the short ribs and sauce, and I can definitely suggest it along side roasted vegetables. The creamy richness of the mascarpone made it an amazing polenta. For this meal, we had slightly different things on our plates, but we both enjoyed a hearty winter meal with great flavor.

Chive, Mascarpone, and Pine Nut Dip

In the middle of a cookie baking frenzy, I needed to think of something in the appetizer category to take to a holiday party. I had some mascarpone in the refrigerator that I bought for another purpose and ended up not using, so my search started with that ingredient. I found this dip on Epicurious and was won over by the swirl of chive oil in it. I had high hopes that the bright green oil would make a festive-looking dip, and it sounded delicious. The chive oil was actually folded into what was a rather thick dip instead of simply being drizzled and swirled as I imagine. The marbled look I had in my mind's eye didn't really come to fruition, but I got over that as soon as I tasted the dip.

First, chopped chives were pureed in olive oil with a pinch of salt. That puree was left to sit in the refrigerator for an hour before it was poured through a sieve to remove the chive solids. Then, pine nuts were toasted in the oven while crostini crisped. The pine nuts were chopped once cool. Mascarpone and cream cheese were to be whisked together, but given the thickness of that mixture, I opted to use a hand mixer instead of a whisk. I changed the recipe by adding a minced shallot to boost the onion flavor, and that was incorporated into the mascarpone mixture. Next, the chopped pine nuts were added. Last the chive oil was poured over top and not too thoroughly folded into the dip so that splotches of green were visible.

This was well-liked at the party, even Kurt let me know that it was really good, but sadly, I only had a small taste of it. That's why I'm already planning on making it again just for us to enjoy at home. The flavor of the chive oil is lovely, but I was glad I added the shallot as well. I'll definitely repeat that addition when I whip up another bowl of it.

Mascarpone Ice Cream with Peaches

Sometimes you just know. You see a recipe and you don’t even have to think about it or wonder how it will taste or worry about the technique because you know it will be great. You can already imagine the flavor, and it’s very, very good. That was what happened when I saw this dessert in July’s Food and Wine. Yes, ice cream made with mascarpone and served with peaches floating in a white wine-honey syrup scented with rosemary required no thinking. This was also a good choice for dessert because local peaches are still available, and rosemary is one of the few items in my yard that hasn’t succumbed to the searing, persistent heat this summer. The garlic chives are limply hanging on, the lemongrass is ok but requires a lot of water, and there are still a few green leaves on the sage. The basil isn’t entirely happy, but it’s surviving in containers which are watered daily. Everything else is long dead, but the rosemary doesn’t mind this weather at all, and I was happy to find another use for it.

The ice cream was made with a pretty standard custard including four egg yolks and whole milk. After the custard was cooked and poured into a bowl to cool, mascarpone was whisked into it, and then it was churned in an ice cream maker. For the syrup, white wine, honey, water, and sugar were combined in a saucepan and boiled until reduced by half. Rosemary was added and allowed to steep, and I veered from the recipe at this point. Rather than pouring the syrup over peaches and baking them, I simply sliced the peaches and let them sit in the warm syrup while it steeped with the rosemary. I wanted to keep the peaches a little firmer and closer to their fresh state. They were so fragrant and juicy, I didn’t feel the need to bake them to intensify the flavor.

A big scoop of the ice cream was topped with peach slices and a few spoons of syrup. The interesting thing about the ice cream is that there is no vanilla. The flavor comes entirely from the mascarpone. It was a nice change from the familiar taste of vanilla, and it was as good as expected with the peaches and syrup.

Banana-Caramel Birthday Cake

It’s not chocolate. That’s the unbelievable thing about this birthday cake. For years, every time I asked Kurt what kind of cake he’d like for his birthday, the only answer I heard was chocolate. Until this year. This year, he said he’d like something different. I was too confused to think, so I put some books in front of him and asked him to pick a cake. It took him longer than I thought it would. The lemon curd cake looked good, and so did the coconut cake. But, in the end, he chose this banana-caramel cake from Martha Stewart's Baking Handbook.

The cake batter has lots of butter, some sour cream, and three mashed bananas. It makes a nicely sturdy cake that remains moist. Separating the layers, are three sliced bananas cooked in caramel. That alone would make a fantastic dessert, but it was even better as the glue between these layers. With six bananas in all, there’s almost a full serving of fruit in each slice of cake.

The frosting on the cake was mascarpone whipped cream which I’ll have to go on about for just a bit. First, it was so light and fluffy it seemed like it should be ok to go ahead and eat the entire bowl of it. The mascarpone, heavy cream, and confectioner’s sugar were mixed together all at once. I imagined it would be a little thicker and heavier like cream cheese frosting, but instead, the consistency was like puffy, creamy, light, pillowy stuff that’s really hard to stop eating. The second thing about it is that it’s lightly sweetened. It’s not tooth achingly sugary at all. That’s important because the frosted cake was then topped with caramel sauce. I already loved the frosting, and then it got some caramel. Dear, sweet, beautiful caramel. This cake was a very good choice.

It is a big, special cake, and it was splendid for a birthday celebration. You could simplify it by making one big layer, skipping the cooked bananas, and just frosting it without the caramel sauce. All the parts together, though, are so good. So Kurt’s another year older, and what am I doing with such an old man anyway? I think that every year until I catch up with him in a month and a half.