Strawberries In Cookie Form...

Dear Pickle:

Just under the wire, I finished my Strawberry-Shortcake Cookies for this month's Cookie Carnival. Recipe from the inimitable Ms. Stewart (bow before her, and wear a clean apron because it WILL be inspected.)

They look cute, don't they? With Canada Day coming up tomorrow, a cookie that's a riff on a strawberry shortcake seemed perfect. I'll be toting them to a barbecue. It's an interesting recipe, kinda like a pie crust recipe. You rub the butter into the flour and then add some cream to bring the dough together and then fold in diced strawberries. It's a soothingly old school prep, and I felt a bit like Ma in 'Little House on the Prairie'.

I remember reading once that it violates the whole 'thing' of a strawberry to cook it. That heat turns them flabby and evaporates their bright but ephemeral flavour... Can't say I disagree generally. These are - nice. I know. Not the biggest compliment in the world. For me, they just weren't sweet enough really. But I fully admit to having twenty sweet teeth, so I thought this could be just me. They're certainly lovely and tender and the nice pioneer feeling carries through.

But then Mr. Salty pronounced them 'not up to your usual standard'. Ouchie! And HE (who, as we know, prefers salt to sweet and so doesn't share my juvenile sense of taste) thought they weren't sweet enough either. (Full disclosure - I WAS mom-baking. Which means I was also making dinner, listening to NPR, checking for work emails, doing laundry, corralling small kids and drinking. Just kidding on the drinking. But it IS possible I missed one tablespoon of the sugar. But it seems to me also that 7 tbsp of sugar is NOT a lot of sugar for three-and-a-half dozen cookies. Right?)

So it's back to the drawing board for another cookie to represent our country! Any ideas...? Blueberry and maple syrup? Something molasses-y for our easterly friends? A thumbprint cookie with butter tart filling? I'm open!

xxx,
Gumdrop

This One's For Polly

Dear Pickle:

Oh! Now I am in love with your Meme too! As a person who takes (too much!) comfort in food when having a terrible day, it is nice to know that food WRITING brought an undeserving bad-day victim a little solace. Maybe I will try re-reading your blog entries next time I want to cry (instead of, y'know, eating frosting by the spoonful...)

The Faux-reos got me intrigued about other supermarket staples that people used to make from scratch. A lot of my bread-baking books have recipes for (drum roll please) - CRACKERS.

Let's see if our home-made crackers leave Mr. Christie in the dust!!! (I don't mean the dust at the bottom of a cracker bag, but actual dust.)

xxx
Gumdrop

Cookies = Love, part 2

Sometimes when your day starts badly – you show up to a morning appointment that’s been canceled, you spill coffee down the front of your dress, your husband is a trillion miles away and wants to talk about banking, – you can barely contemplate what the rest of the week will hold without the specter of a few sad tears fogging up your vision But then you read something really simple and lovely like the existence of a homemade Oreo and suddenly there’s a little bit of sunshine back in your day.

And it’s nice to know that someone else knows the illicit joy of frosting made with shortening. It was my Dutch grandmother’s secret weapon in creating a pure white frosting that sustained the heat of summer better than butter. Add in some Dutch cocoa powder for Meme’s Chocolate Frosting and spread it over yellow cake for one of my grandfather’s favourite snacks (nb: she’s a Meme not an Oma because she married a Red Cross worker from Quebec during the war. And yes, cake was an acceptable snack at their house as it should be at every grandparents' house).

Cookies,
Pickle

Cookies = Love

Dear Pickle:

Your mom said 'turd'? About cookies? Heheheheh! That is the best thing that happened this week.

I LOVE your disappearing cookie photos. The fact that you can 'whip' things up at the cottage. That your hubbo gets bribery cookies (very smart) to greet his Yukon crew. That you forgive me all my transgressions - even rhubarb and chocolate. So! On to the challenge!

You know that I love frosting. I love icing. I love glaze. I love most things that are called ‘topping’ (yes, even including ‘that’. Especially with Jell-o.) I have been known to discard the bottom parts of cupcakes if no one is looking and just use the ‘muffin top’ part of the cupcake as a buttercream delivery system.

For this reason, it is rather strange that I have never made a sandwich cookie, the kind that is filled with sweet, sweet frosting/icing/what-you-will. Maybe it’s because I like to make things with big yields (Little Miss Greedy) and you have to use two cookies to make each sandwich cookie, thereby halving the number of cookies you end up with. How is that fair? But your challenge seemed the perfect opportunity to stretch my cookie-making skills over into the filled arena. (And an excuse to make frosting.)

I made these chocolate sandwich cookies with a creamy filling. Perhaps you’ve heard of their supermarket counterparts… Yes, I made Faux-Reos. That isn’t my overly cutesy name, that’s the moniker bestowed by the King Arthur Flour cookie book. Cutesy names aside, I am a little bit obsessed with this book. It is filled with old school cookie recipes, but I am obsessed mainly for one practical reason.

Have I sermonized to you yet about the wonders of using a kitchen scale? It makes baking about a thousand times easier if you don’t have to fiddle with cups. Not to mention more accurate. Throw in a Kitchenaid and you can have a batch of cookies in the oven in mere moments. Alas, most North American recipe books use the old cups system and you have to find not only European/British cookbooks, but also European/British editions of those cookbooks to cook using weight. Except for the wonderful bakers behind the King Arthur test kitchen in Vermont! Their blog, here, is for my money the best how-to baking blog on the net and a MUST READ. (If you need to be convinced of the merits of baking by weight, just make one batch of peanut butter cookies with a scale – i.e. without scraping the sticky stuff in and out of measuring cups – and you will be a convert. I did that but they didn't survive long enough to be photographed!)

These are made from a very soft cocoa dough, which you must chill for at least a few hours before rolling out. Even after an overnight chill, I still had to roll them out on a Silpat with loads of flour. (And NOW I read on their blog a different recipe that doesn't seem to require rolling out and looks way cuter than mine... Damnit!) The filling is – well, there are some things you wish you could un-know. One of these things for me is that the centers of Oreos are, apparently, largely shortening. Blurgh. The shortening gets beaten with a lot of icing sugar and a little dissolved gelatin, with vanilla for flavour.

The results were more delicate than a supermarket Oreo, a reminder that sometimes less flavour is more. Subtle cocoa cookies sandwiching a filling that whispers of vanilla. Old fashioned and gentle and delicate, they were totally picnic worthy. The wafers had a crispy quality you would never find in a preserved, shelf-stable substitute and it played off the filling in a way real Oreos could only dream of. I’m glad my little guys tasted them before they ever tasted the commercial variety – although we’re just not going to think about how the health effects of all the shortening was consumed in my house this week.

Thanks for fitting such a tasty challenge between the crispy cocoa wafers of my life. What a big yield!

X

Gumdrop
p.s. I am like a cookbook pusher.

p.p.s. I too made a crazy chocolate chip cookie variation this week for a visit to my parents/brother's cottage - a summery and off-beat combo of Dried Blueberries, White Chocolate Chips and Slivered Almonds. Photo to follow.

p.p.p.s. New challenge tomorrow!!!

p.p.p.p.s. I will be your kid and eat your cookies after school. I will also accept cake and milk, like Harriet The Spy.

Baking, Kinda Sorta Just Like Mom

Dear Gumdrop-

You are a dear friend and I will always forgive you for any lapse in blog postings, particularly when a persnickety mutual friend’s notorious deadlines are involved.

However, I’m not sure I can forgive you for the rhubarb and chocolate combination. You can swear it was delicious up and down the golden horseshoe, but I’ll never be convinced. Potentially barf-inducing is putting it mildly. I still shudder thinking of the combination (but I also hate it when my food touches on the plate. Gross. Some childhood habits die hard).

I also shudder when I think about those cinnamon squares. I’ve made them before too. As part of my campaign to buy the in-laws love and adoration with baked goods, the squares were part of this Christmas’ homemade present. I’m thankful that Latvians have a hearty constitution after endearing all those years under Russian occupation. Who else could stomach a lump of sawdust and call it festive?

This Christmas, I’ll be filling people’s stockings with Chipster-Topped Brownies, assuming I don’t succumb to a sugar-induced coma before then. These are bit-sized morsels of insanity. I under-baked these a bit, which some hypercritical-but-otherwise lovely and supportive mother suggested was some sort of violation of international baking laws. She was wrong, of course. That gooey chocolate brownie topped with the golden buttery chocolate chip layer should be nominated for a Nobel peace prize. One little square could ease tensions in the middle east (they’re kosher, aren’t they?). I have to admit; I was a little scared about spreading such heavy cookie dough on top of the brownie dough. I might try to flip the layers next time, just to see (that sounds like a legitimate reason to make another batch, doesn’t it?). These do fit nicely in a cookie jar, but they certainly don’t last long. Certainly not long enough for me to take a picture.

So to replenish my woeful makeshift cookie jar (how could I neglect to register for something so essential?!?!), I whipped up a batch of chocolate malted milk ball cookies while I was at the cottage. I’m not usually a fan of chocolate cookies, but I quite like these ones. They’re a bit more cake-like than cookie-like so they’re almost like a whoopee pie texture, but filled with chocolate chunks and malted milk balls. Brilliant really. My one adjustment would be to leave the malted milk balls whole. Chopped up, they disappeared too much for my liking. I much preferred biting into that crunchy texture against the silky chocolate dough. And my mother did demur that they looked too much like ‘turds’ for her dainty sensibilities, but really, don’t all lumpy chocolate baked goods look like pooh? C’mon.

While I don’t have kids yet, these are the sort of cookies that make you daydream about sitting at the kitchen table with a mop-topped kid talking about their day at school over a cookie and a glass of milk. That never really happened with my mom, but if it happens on tv, it must be possible in real life too, right?

Said imaginary kids will not be getting any of the newly baptized Yukon Chip Cookies. The other day, I improvised a batch of milk chocolate, white chocolate and toffee chip cookies for the IE before he sets off to the Yukon for the summer. They did not last long enough to get a picture either. They were a classic buttery chip recipe with excessive amounts of the above-mentioned chips tossed in and they were pretty much the perfect cookie – chewy and caramely with the warm squigginess of melted chocolate. They’re absolutely deadly, but should win the IE some instant friends on the crew when he gets his weekly care package. And no, that’s not bribery. That’s love.


Off to get my own copy of the new Baked Bakeshop Cookbook. How do you know about everything? You are my culinary lifeline.

Yours in cookies,
Pickle

Tuesdays with SORRY!

Forgive me, Pickle my blog-mate, for I have sucked. It has been – ohmigod has it really been that long since I posted? Jeez, I really do suck. I wouldn’t be speaking to me if I were you. I’m not speaking to me, in fact. Especially after I essentially dessert-bombed your first Mother’s Day with your MIL. Wowza. (Y’know, I don’t trust Malgieri either. I had a big dinner party flop from one of his recipes a good ten years ago and I still haven’t forgiven him. Also, do you ever find it harder to do your own challenge? It’s like tickling yourself, it’s just harder to get off on your own challenge! AND there have been raccoons in my attic, a new and disturbing fascination with making over my garden and which points to the fact that my mother IS colonizing me, speech therapy and assorted childhood diseases for Pretzel, teething for Peanut, major computer problems - and lotsa deadlines for a certain mutual friend who likes things turned around fast…)

This slowness on my part is also a testament to the fact that I seem to have a mental block and think anything with a crust is far more difficult than it is. I kept waiting for an expanse of time to make my chocolate-crusted tart – and the fact is that I didn’t need anything near an ‘expanse’. I whipped off this quite lovely Chocolate Crusted Strawberry Rhubarb Tart in a very economical half-an-hour!!! The recipe is courtesy of Caprial Pence, who I remember from the very early days of Food Network as a little stiff on the hosting side, and anything but stiff on creating delicate French-esque flavour combos. And this tart does remind me of the enviable way a french girl dresses - classic and well put together, but with an unexpected, understated twist. The chocolate crust.

Speaking of, I know what you’re thinking. Chocolate and rhubarb. Weird. Potentially barf-worthy. I was full of trepidation – but I also had a yard full of rhubarb and I’m too bone-lazy to freeze it. I hoped that the strawberry would somehow marry the two. But the strawberry was a light flavour, and the surprise ingredient was another thing that filled my trepidation basket. Orange peel. Orange and chocolate are friends, orange and rhubarb are friends… Together, it was an elegant and juicy combo. Mr. Salty said he couldn’t believe the amount of work I’d put into this ‘clearly difficult dessert’. I let him have his illusions. Hey, marriage must have its mysteries.

I’d recommend trying this crust, it’s got quite a delicate flavour with only two tablespoons of cocoa and it just kind of rich-ed up (what’s the actual word I want there?) the whole tart. It was a nice and easy press-in crust and I felt silly for having not made it earlier. Mental baking blocks – who knew? Maybe I need some kind of a coach.

It’s not like I haven’t been baking since posting the challenge.
I also kept up with some of the Tuesdays with Dorie challenges. Here is a platter (beautiful cake plate courtesy of YOU!) that I took to a parenting group evening I had to go to – this is what you get when you ask me to provide snacks for one meeting. I mean, you do have to put up with the subversive mom rolling her eyes in the back corner and laughing at inappropriate moments in what is meant to be a sincere forum. But in exchange you get this (instead of the perfunctory box of Timbits some of the other parents have brought when it was their turn. Tsk.) In the foreground are Cappuccino Squares, a variant of Cinnamon Squares. These were – meh. Nice and simple and appealing in a snacking cake way, topped with fast and impressive ganache - and yet, a little dry. And I know I didn’t overmix, I tend to undermix if anything. Meh. I have a few more in the freezer if you want to come by (I know, I’m sooooo good at invitations.)

In the middle, some Rhubarb Squares. Because I DO honestly have a yard full of rhubarb. These aren’t a Dorie recipe but were nice and old-fashioned and simple, a shortbread crust with a super-fast version of pie filling. (Some of these in the freezer too!)

In the back, and unfortunately not-too-visible, another Dorie special – Chipster-Topped Brownies. Dude, these should not exist and trust me, there are none left in the freezer. Because they are – get this – brownies that are topped with chocolate chip cookies. This is insane. Forget gilding the lily. Honestly, these are like gilding the UNICORN. Chewy cookie, gooey brownie, 8,000 calories of butter. Holy heck. I made people faint at the parent group and at work. Unlike the tart, though, these are a lot of work and it maybe doesn’t show as much as you'd like when you've slaved away. You have to make two full batters. So I won’t be rushing to make them again – which is a good thing, considering I am probably responsible for a number of pounds of parent and coworker weight gain.

Here is some of Dorie’s Mango Bread, which I gather is like Banana or Zucchini Bread for those who get to live in exotic Florida (where they have rhubarb problems year-round…) I was not a big fan of this on first taste as it has a lot of spice, lime and raisins. It was – GASP! – a little fruitcake-y. Ugh. This made Mr. Salty (who loves his fruitcakes) happy but made me very sad. But then, two days later, a revelation. This cake aged beautifully, all of the flavours mellowing out and letting the mango come through. Quite nice! Will definitely try again.

Here are some of her Coconut Thins, made with a rather unique technique of rolling out between two plastic baggies. Delicate, stuffed with macadamia nuts, coconut and lime and completely at home alongside tea. But I’m afraid they were too delicate for my tastes – I’m more an unsubtle brownie type, apparently!

In between I also made Oatmeal Cookies for a playgroup that Pretzel was in and some tasty Baked Bars from the new Baked Bakeshop Cookbook – like 7-layer bars, but THICK, like two inches thick, and insane with three kinds of chips (chocolate, butterscotch and white chocolate. Can you believe this? I told you – I’m unsubtle to the core.) I am obviously reaching some kind of new baking cardio fitness level and will be all over your cookie jar challenge! The boys at my house thank you for issuing it! (And ‘Magaloo’? Cutest name ever - to go with the cutest little thing ever!)

I promise to try and write WAY more often.

Miss you,

Gumdrop

Who Stole the Cookie?

Dear Gumdrop-


Haven’t heard from you lately, which I assume means you’re on the front lines of the busy mom war. Balancing work and the little ones must be grueling, but maybe this little mini-challenge will help you claim a small victory. Since my niece Magaloo is coming this weekend, I thought I’d take inspiration from your quest to quell the impeding teenage disdain by plying her with baked goods. So, the only criteria for this one is it’s gotta fit in a cookie jar!

Xo
P