Showing posts with label Cinnamon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cinnamon. Show all posts

The Perfect Pie for the Holidays: Apple-Pear-Cranberry Pie with PecanCrumble

Bonjour!

It's been ages since I've posted. (Sorry!) I started a new job not too long ago and it's proving to take up quite a lot more of my time than I anticipated, thus I'm a bit behind on the blog. I'm still active on Instagram (@Gourmess) and Facebook (@PetiteGourmess) so if you miss me, make sure you follow/like me there.

And, since we're a week away from Thanksgiving, I thought I'd dig out one of my old favorites and share it here again. It's been four years since its debut, so I think it's time for a reminder.

So, without further ado, here is my absolute favorite holiday dessert: Apple-Pear-Cranberry Pie with Pecan Crumble. It has nutmeg, cinnamon, ginger and Calvados in it, plus lots of butter and brown sugar, and tons of fall fruits. It's delightful and much more interesting than Pumpkin Pie. You can get the recipe here.


You can thank me later. After all, it is the season of giving thanks. (Wink!)
xoxo


I Baked! Yogurt Cake w/Cinnamon-Orange Glaze

You might want to sit down for this: I wanted to bake something. 

I'm so tired of all the snow and ice and cold and shivers, and thought baking a treat would warm up the house and my spirits. I didn't want something complicated or overly sweet, but I wanted to bake a cake.  But what kind of cake? I remembered reading about using yogurt in baking, so I found a few recipes online and added my own two cents (i.e. the almond extract, cinnamon, cointreau, the glaze).

I wanted to make a bundt cake, but I couldn't find my pan. I know I have one, I just can't seem to locate it. (Maybe if I baked more...) I used a normal, round cake pan and the cake turned out golden brown on top and light and spongy inside. It reminded me a bit of the texture of a dulce de leche cake.


When I popped the cake out of the pan (I breathed a sigh of relief when it all came out in one piece), I noticed that the middle was still a wee bit gooey--not raw, but not totally done--which means my trusty convection oven may be on the fritz, or that cake baking just isn't my thing. But, since being resourceful in the kitchen is my forte, instead of covering the cake with foil and putting it back in the oven to continue cooking at a lower heat, I used a pastry ring and cut out the middle -- instant bundt cake. Ha!

This isn't an overly sweet cake, so I whisked together some powdered sugar, half & half, orange extract and cinnamon and brushed it on the cake while it was still warm. I put the cake on a pretty plate and put some water on for tea. All I could smell was sugar and orange and cinnamon. It tasted pretty great, too. A perfect pick-me-up on a winter's day.


Yogurt Cake with Cinnamon-Orange Glaze
Ingredients:
11/4 cups plain yogurt (Greek is fine)
2 eggs
3/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1 TBS Cointreau (optional)
1 tsp vanilla
1/8 tsp almond extract
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
Pinch of salt
2 cups of all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsps baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
For the Glaze:
1 cup powdered sugar
1/4+ cup of half & half or heavy cream (add more for thinner glaze)
1/4 tsp orange extract
1/2 tsp cinnamon

Minimal MESS/ingredients/clean-up: Category 1

To Do:
  • Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and line a round cake pan with parchment paper (or use baking spray).
  • In a large mixing bowl, combine the first nine ingredients. (Yogurt-salt.)
  • In a different bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder and baking soda, then stir the dry ingredients into the bowl with the wet ingredients and mix until incorporated. (Don't overmix.)
  • Transfer the batter into your prepared cake pan and bake until the top is golden brown and the cake is firm, about 45 minutes. 
  • Let cool about 10 minutes, then invert cake onto a plate and gently remove from the pan. If you used parchment paper, peel it off the cake and discard.
  • While the cake is cooling, whisk together the powdered sugar, half & half, cinnamon and orange extract (adding more or less to taste), then spoon over the warm cake until it is completely glazed, and enjoy!

Stay warm!
xoxo


Venison Pie

Oh, Deer.

You may remember the traumatic Thanksgiving of 2009 (So Long, Bambi) when I witnessed the demise of a very sweet doe from the window. (How could you forget?) Fast forward to three years later, and this time, we came home from Thanksgiving with a few pounds of recently processed, ground venison. (I thankfully was not present for the death of this year's deer.)

Growing up in western Pennsylvania in a family of hunters, I remember eating a lot of venison: big chunks of meat cooked with onions, peppers and cabbage, or thick slices of venison summer sausage with wedges of Colby cheese. Chris and I even served gorgeous fillets of Buck Island Venison at our rustic, Adirondack wedding.  But I haven't cooked it at home...until now.

We didn't have much in our fridge after being away on vacation, so I raided the freezer and pulled out a pound of the ground venison. I wasn't sure what to make, but I figured that a deer gave its life for this, so I should make the best of it. I did some research, looking for a nice recipe, and I stopped at what sounded like a lovely venison ragu with red wine, sage and papardelle--but, I wasn't in the mood to make pasta, so I settled on one for venison pie because it seemed to have a French influence (the ingredients/accompaniments reminded me a wee bit of Country Pâté) and a pie sounded like a nice idea for a chilly winter's eve. Plus, who doesn't like pie?

There are tons of recipes for Venison Pie on the web -- I looked at dozen or so before I decided to come up with my own version. It turned out great, and I would make it again...as long as no other deer are harmed in the re-making of the pie.


WINTER'S EVE VENISON PIE
Ingredients:
1 lb. ground venison
4 oz. thick-cut bacon (or turkey bacon), finely diced
1 med. onion, finely diced
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp Herbes de Provence
Water or red wine
Kosher salt
Ground black pepper
1-2 TBS all purpose flour (Wondra is great for this)
Pie crust (2)

To Do:
  • Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
  • Mix together the venison, bacon, onion, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, garlic powder and herbs.
  • Place mixture in a large pan over medium-high heat and add enough water/wine to just cover the entire bottom of the pan.
  • Cook and stir, until liquid has mostly evaporated, meat is no longer pink, and the bacon is cooked. (I used turkey bacon, so it didn't really get crispy, but it did add some nice salty flavor.)
  • Lower heat and gently stir in flour, a bit at a time (you may not use it all), until you have a thick, gravy-like consistency throughout.
  • Test the cooked mixture for seasoning -- add the Kosher salt and pepper to taste. You can also add a bit more cloves, cinnamon or nutmeg if needed. (It should have a nice warm, spicy flavor.)
  • Place one pie crust in the bottom of a pie plate and fill with the venison mixture. Top with the second pie crust, and be sure to vent in the middle.
  • Bake at 350 degrees until the pie crust is golden brown.
  • Let pie cool a few minutes before serving.
  • Assemble olives, pickles, sharp cheese, apples and dried fruits to accompany the pie. 

I served our tasty pie with a quick and hearty squash soup (onions cooked until soft in butter and brandy, diced squash, nutmeg, salt/pepper, and chicken stock, puréed) topped with a dollop of goat cheese, but I was thinking a dab of goat cheese would have been great on the pie, too, along with a spoonful of cranberry sauce or chutney. Still, for my first vension recipe, it tasted pretty terrific. And it wasn't too shabby the next day for breakfast, either.

Mmmm. Sorry Bambi, but you tasted pretty darn good.

xoxo



Delicious Morocco: A Recap of Our Culinary Getaway

Hello, 2013!

I can't wait for all of the cookery and food adventures that are ahead of us. 2012 was a busy, amazing year (I even got to be on TV!), and it ended on a beautiful high note -- a culinary tour of Morocco.

Essaouira Rooftops.
Below is a recap of the food highlights from that trip. It's hard to explain everything we experienced--but the cuisine is a good start. We ate like kings. Imagine if you will, an array of oranges, olives, loaves of fire-baked bread, food-grade argan oil, and golden honey. And that's just the precursor to breakfast, where you'll be treated to fresh-squeezed orange juice and stacks of chewy, smoky Berber crepes, along with baskets of luscious pastries -- a nod to the French influence that prevails throughout Morocco. At lunchtime, the air is scented with the smells of tagines cooking over a charcoal fire--a hint of cinnamon, cumin, ras el hanout (a special mix of 35 spices), paprika, tumeric, and/or saffron in the cool breeze, and maybe the smell of fresh, grilled fish if you're by the ocean. At dinner, bowls are filled to the brim with warm vegetable salads that you scoop up with dense slices of bread, couscous piled high with organic vegetables, bright and flavorful. And, several times a day you stop for a glass of steaming tea steeped with mint, sage, marjoram, or absinthe... and let's not forget the joy of tasting plump dates and walnuts picked right off the trees during a mountain hike. We had five cooking classes during our trip, and learning to cook traditional Moroccan dishes in the kitchens of quaint riads and regal kasbahs was pretty awesome. (And tasty, too.)

It's hard to choose a favorite food moment. Maybe it was at lunch at Port de Peche where we sucked down oysters the size of my fist, or the pigeon pastilla and lamb tagine at the charming restaurant Mounia, both in Casablanca.  Or, maybe it was choosing a crab at the fish stalls in Essaouira that was immediately grilled over hot coals while I waited, and served with wedges of lemon and hunks of crusty bread, seawater still in its claws. Or, a romantic dinner at the quirky and chic restaurant Elizir, in the middle of the Essaouira medina. Walking through olive groves with a trusty donkey to a Monday Berber market in the High Atlas Mountains, where we bought carrots, eggplant, tomatoes, fava beans, and freshly butchered beef for our dinner was also pretty magical, complete with a tentative sampling of sticky, pungent cow's hoof stew with chickpeas (a delicacy, so they say). Or, making our own pastilla (a dish usually reserved for weddings) on Christmas Eve, while the evening prayer call echoed in the night air. And, nothing compares to the sensory overload of the chaos and excitement of the food stalls in Marrakech's Jamaa el Fna square. Morocco was a magical place, and Chris and I were lucky to spend ten days there. Here are some of the great food moments. Enjoy.

Hello, Morocco
Casablanca was the first and also the last stop on our trip, thanks to the convenience of a direct flight to/from JFK. We didn't spend a lot of time there, but the tour of the Hassan II mosque (the third-largest and the tallest religious monument in the world), lunch at the pier and cocktails at Rick's Cafe are not to be missed. We had our first full Moroccan meal at Mounia, complete with tagine, couscous, pastilla and harira soup. It is a gorgeous little restaurant with a huge weeping willow tree in front and jewel-toned zellige (tilework) throughout. The food was delicious and we're still talking about the charming waiters who treated us like family. Highly recommended.
Casablanca, Morocco.
Hassan II Mosque, Casablanca.
Lunch spot in Casablanca, and our first meal in Morocco.
We tried giant oysters on the half shell, grilled sardines, a flaky St. Pierre fillet and more.

City by the Sea
Essaouira is a laid-back seaside town with a bustling medina filled with colorful baskets, carpets, scarves, silver jewelry, and other handicrafts. Fish stalls piled high with fresh seafood line the port and quaint cafes in the square are perfect for people-watching and espresso sipping. And, the sunset views are like no other. It is normally very windy in Essaouira this time of year, but we had sunshine every day and only a light breeze. Our first cooking class was here in our riad's commercial kitchen, and Chris and I learned to prepare a simple but delightful fish tagine and a cool, crisp Moroccan salad. It was one of my favorite meals. On a side note, there were a ton of cats in Essaouria (and Morocco in general), which was pretty fun. We turned a corner one afternoon to the sight of a satisfied kitty finishing off a fish head, and across the way, a snoozing puss on a colorful pile of Berber carpets. Happy cats for sure. Just like us.
Essaouira, Morocco. 
The port at Essaouira.
Boats bring in hauls of sardines, crab, dorado, eel, shark, St. Pierre, etc. twice a day.
Fish tagine with tomatoes, carrots, peppers, potatoes
and a delicious Chermoula marinade. From Cooking Class #1.
Moroccan Salad with cucumbers, tomatoes and onion and seasoned with cumin and lemon juice.
From Cooking Class #1.
The High Atlas Mountains
Off to the High Atlas Mountains, and the Berber people of the Ourika Valley. This part of Morocco is more conservative, and the women do most of the work here. They are super tough and super sweet. Olive, orange and lemon trees line the roads, and we made use of the gorgeous produce we purchased at the weekly market. We cooked a lot during this part of the trip -- and, we totally rocked the kasbah! We were fortunate to learn how to make pastilla, a savory/sweet poultry and sugared almond-filled pastry usually reserved for wedding celebrations. And of course we made hearty, restorative harira soup and the national dish: couscous -- which is not treated as a side dish but as the main event, often served on Fridays after prayer and shared by the whole family. We learned that the secret to a great couscous is in steaming it at least three times over the heat of a bubbling pot filled with spices, herbs, water, peppers, carrots, onions, tomatoes, eggplant, squash, and hunks of meat on the bone. The flavorful sauce from this is then strained and poured over the couscous and contents of the pot. (You judge your couscous on how good the sauce is.) And the warm Moroccan salads, zaalouk (eggplant salad) and taktouka (roasted pepper salad), are ones I'll be adding to my repertoire for sure. We even woke early on Christmas Day to make Berber crepes -- and ate them hot off the stove, smeared with honey, marmalade and amlou (a mixture of honey, almonds and argan oil).

We drank lots and lots of mint tea (a.k.a Moroccan Whiskey) during our entire visit, and we were invited to a local family's home to have tea when we were in the mountains. The tea is a base of green tea, flavored with heaps of sugar (Moroccans love sugar) and usually mint, although we had versions with sage, marjoram, absinthe, and lemon verbena. The boiling hot tea is poured ceremoniously from a high distance into small glasses, to both aerate and cool it. It was very sugary -- and I preferred the versions that were more floral than sweet. But, when in Rome, er, Morocco...
The High Atlas Mountains, Ourika Valley, Morocco.
The meat market.
Spices galore!
L'oranges.
Fava beans (left) and green beans (right).



Piles and piles of fruits and veggies at the market.
The Donkey Parking Lot at the market.
Cow's Hoof Stew with Chickpeas from a stall in the market.
Zaalouk (Eggplant salad). From Cooking Class #2.
Taktouka (Roasted pepper salad). From Cooking Class #2.
Chicken Pastilla (topped with toasted almonds and honey).
From Cooking Class #2.

Making Berber Crepes. From Cooking Class #3.

Harira Soup. From Cooking Class #4.
Preparing the couscous. From Cooking Class #4.
Couscous with Beef and Vegetables. From Cooking Class #4.
Berber woman making mint tea.
The makings of mint tea -- green tea, mint, and LOTS of sugar.

Marrakech Madness
The last leg of our trip was a visit to Marrakech -- Morocco's "Red City." If any place in Morocco is like New York City, Marrakech is it.  Everywhere you look there's something to see, smell, touch, hear, or taste. Your senses are assaulted all at once: the bright colors of Berber carpets and babouches (slippers), the heat from a glass of mint tea and the chill in the morning air, the haunting tune played by a snake charmer mixed with a prayer call and shouts from the vendors at the food stalls and souks ("Come see! Take a look! Want to buy?"), plus honking and bells from mopeds, bicycles and even donkeys, as they try to sneak through the crowded, tight medina walkways. And, taste: cafes on the square, stalls piled high with dried fruits and nuts, mountains of oranges, bowls overflowing with snails, plus the smells of grilled kabobs, and sacks and sacks of spices. Anything you want is in Marrakech, but you have to be willing to haggle for it. There are no prices, but nothing is free. We used our NYC/NJ attitudes to get a few deals, but the guys in the souks are hardcore. It's tradition, I guess, but it also took some of the fun out of buying our souvenirs. I also had a hard time taking pictures here since most people wanted to be paid for the photos I took. So, most of the shots from Marrakech are blurry or taken from afar. Craziness! Back at the peace of our beautiful riad, we spent our last night in Morocco cooking and eating up a storm. Chicken tagine with olives and lemon, beef tagine with almonds and prunes, four cooked salads, crusty bread and even a bottle of Moroccan sparkling wine! It was a feast that ended with a gorgeous bowl of sliced fruit tossed with orange-blossom water.  A perfect way to end an amazing adventure, for sure.

Spices and herbs in a Marrakech drugstore.

Dried fruits and nuts in the square at night.

Jamaa el Fna square, Marrakech, at night.

Spice square, Marrakech.
A stall in the spice market.


Tagines on the stove.

Chicken tagine with preserved lemon and olives. From Cooking Class #5.
Beef tagine with toasted almonds and prunes. From Cooking Class #5.

Shredded carrot with cumin and cilantro. From Cooking Class #5.

Roasted tomatoes with peppers (layered). From Cooking Class #5.
Baby zucchini with lemon and paprika. From Cooking Class #5.

Zaalouk made with roasted eggplant. From Cooking Class #5.

The colorful sights, amazing smells, warm flavors, and lovely people are something I'll not soon forget. Morocco, you were delicious.

Au revoir, 2012. Bonjour, 2013!

xoxo


Cinnamon, Cinnamon!

I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate. --Julia Child



My handy $6 Sunbeam Ice Cream Maker is turning out to be a fun toy.  A dear friend and I recently made cinnamon ice cream (via a lovely custard, steeped with cinnamon sticks, etc.) and it turned out so rich and lovely that I wanted to showcase it with an equally nice dessert.  I had a bunch of pears and apples in the crisper, so I peeled and diced about 3 each and tossed in a bowl with 2 TBS of butter, 2 TBS sugar and a couple shakes of ground nutmeg and cinnamon, and a pinch of flour.  I put this all in a pot on the stove and cooked the mixture for a few minutes until the fruit softened a bit, then I mixed in some chopped pecans and distributed the filling evenly into four ramekins.  I topped each ramekin with pie dough, vented with a knife, and  then brushed with melted butter and a sprinkle of sugar and you guessed it--cinnamon!  I baked in a 350 degree oven until the dough had browned and the fruit was bubbly and then served with a dollop of that heavenly custardy, cinnamony treat.






Bliss!
xoxoxo