Fluted Polenta and Ricotta Cake and Listening to My Inner Voice

Tip of the week: When you juice citrus fruit, put the juiced halves into a zipper bag in the freezer to keep for when you need zest.

Tuesdays with Dorie

Dear Dorie:

Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think we got along very well this week. I will admit to being crabby.  We’ve only had one day where the temperature has gotten into the 70s during the past six months.  There was snow on the ground last Saturday when I woke up.  Snow flurries are in the forecast for this weekend.  So I’m likely to be slightly cranky when I’m on the receiving end of a little sass from some ingredients.

As I read the recipe for Fluted Polenta and Ricotta Cake, I had misgivings, much like you did when you read the recipe that inspired this cake. A little voice inside said “the polenta will be too crunchy, there’s too much sugar and honey.” I had more misgivings when I read comments from people who were already working on it. It’s way too sweet they said. I thought, can a dessert really be too sweet? Should I leave out some of the sugar? But I have this compulsion when I’m baking to make a recipe as written, at least the first time through. So I argued with myself. “This recipe sounds sophisticated, unique. Don’t be a chicken.” So I would make the recipe as written and the reality would be better than the written word.

I took it as a good sign that I actually had the size of tart pan called for in the recipe. My son picked an Italian deli for lunch that day and I was able to buy some lovely fresh ricotta. The figs I had bought were soft as pillows. This was going to be great.

I started having a sinking feeling when I couldn’t get the ricotta and water smoothly beaten like the recipe said it should be (Belatedly I realize I didn’t use the whisk attachment). It looked curdled. When I added the sugar and honey, the mixture became almost watery. But I persevered and finally had my cake ready to go into the oven.

Oh, it looked so pretty when it came out of the oven. As Alton Brown would say, “Golden brown and delicious” or GBD for short.

I could hardly wait for it to cool to room temperature so I could be proven wrong. I cut a slice, almost giddy with anticipation.

I took that first bite. And I heard that voice loud and clear, “I told you so.” The polenta was too crunchy, it was way too sweet. So sweet that it made the figs taste almost bitter. I tried it again the next day. But no luck. My son didn’t like it either.  I didn’t bother offering any to my husband.  This dessert just wasn’t our thing.

As a consolation, I had enough fresh ricotta left to make a ricotta and sausage pasta for dinner from the cookbook “On Top of Spaghetti.” And it was great!

So Dorie, I hope we’re still friends. I’m not so fickle as to give up. I will admit to not paying enough attention to use the whisk attachment.  Maybe I should have used a finer cornmeal instead of the polenta.  In retrospect, I think the size of the polenta grind didn’t allow for much absorption of moisture.  Maybe commercial ricotta would have had a different texture.   I am anxious to see how everyone else at Tuesday with Dorie fared. Maybe they can see where I went wrong.

Sincerely,

Ann

P.S. See you next week for Peanut Butter Torte.  Now that is our thing!

Fluted Polenta and Ricotta Cake

Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

About 16 moist, plump dried Mission or Kadota figs, stemmed
1 c. medium-grain polenta or yellow cornmeal
½ c. all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 c. ricotta
1/3 c. tepid water
¾ c. sugar
¾ c. honey (if you’re a real honey lover, use a full-flavored honey such as chestnut, pine, or buckwheat)
Grated zest of 1 lemon
2 large eggs

Getting Ready: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Butter a 10 ½-inch fluted tart pan with a removable bottom and put it on a baking sheet lined with parchment or a silicone mat.

Check that the figs are, indeed, moist and plump. If they are the least bit hard, toss them into a small pan of boiling water and steep for a minute, then drain and pat dry. If the figs are large (bigger than a bite), snip them in half.

Whisk the polenta, flour, baking powder, and salt together.

Working with a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the ricotta and water together on low speed until very smooth. With the mixer at medium speed, add the sugar, honey, and lemon zest and beat until light. Beat in the melted butter, then add the eggs one at a time, beating until the mixture is smooth. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the dry ingredients, mixing only until they are fully incorporated. You’ll have a sleek, smooth, pourable batter.

Pour about one third of the batter into the pan and scatter over the figs. Pour in the rest of the batter, smooth the top with a rubber spatula, if necessary, and dot the batter evenly with the chilled bits of butter.

Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until a thin knife inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. The cake should be honey brown and pulling away just a little from the sides of the pan, and the butter will have left light-colored circles in the top. Transfer the cake to a rack and remove the sides of the pan after about 5 minutes. Cool to warm, or cool completely.

Bill’s Big Carrot Cake Becomes Ann’s Cupcakes and Some Extra Credit

Tuesdays with Dorie

Vegetables are a must on a diet. I suggest carrot cake, zucchini bread, and pumpkin pie.”

Jim Davis, ‘Garfield’

Let’s add carrot cookies too, but hold that thought.

This week’s Tuesday with Dorie assignment is Bill’s Big Carrot Cake, chosen by Amanda of slow like honey. We love carrot cake so we were excited to try this recipe. Since there are only three of us I decided to make cupcakes because it’s easier to freeze the leftovers. Somehow cupcakes seem like less pressure than a big cake sitting there screaming at you to eat a piece. Plus, my son is never happier than when there is cake in the house, whether it’s freshly made or in the freezer.

On a side note, one of my most recent and beloved acquisitions for my kitchen is the Escali Pana Volume and Weight Digital Scale which comes pre-programmed with ingredients to measure by volume, including carrots! I mean, how do you measure three cups of shredded carrots. Do you fill the cups lightly or pack them in? How much would they weigh? With this scale, I enter the code for carrots, start adding them to the bowl, and the readout tells me when I have three cups. This is also really great to use when you grate parmesan with a Microplane and end up with a big pile of light fluffy parmesan. It may look like 1/4 cup but it might only be a tablespoon. But enough about that.

There was no drama this week like last week’s marshmallows. Everything came together without a hitch. I used pecans and dried cranberries. I decided to make cupcakes. I filled the muffin cups too full so they came out looking more like muffins. I trimmed the edges off before frosting the cupcakes which left me with a lovely bag of cupcake scraps for snacking on.

The cupcakes collapsed a bit when I rotated the pans in the oven. I hoped they might recover during the final baking, but the final product was slightly sunken in the middle. I thought maybe there wasn’t enough leavening in the batter, but after looking it up in one of Alton Brown’s books, learned it could be from too much leavening, too hot an oven, or a batter that is unable to support its own weight. This is a heavy batter with a lot of add-ins, so that’s the direction I’m leaning in. But, you know, the deeper the indentation, the more frosting you can use to fill it in. I believe in my heart that cake (no matter how good) is simply the vehicle for the frosting.

These cupcakes were really delicious and moist. They also inspired me to practice a little cake decorating.

Since I already had all the ingredients in the house, I also made the gingered carrot cookies with dried cranberries instead of raisins. They were also awesome, but that’s another episode.

BTW, I don’t think we’re going to have any cupcakes left to freeze.

Bill’s Big Carrot Cake

Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

Yields 10 servings

Ingredients:

For the cake:
2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
¾ teaspoon salt
3 cups grated carrots (about 9 carrots, you can grate them in food processor fitted w/ a shredding a blade or use a box grater)
1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts or pecans
1 cup shredded coconut (sweetened or unsweetened)
½ cup moist, plump raisins (dark or golden) or dried cranberries
2 cups sugar
1 cup canola oil
4 large eggs

For the frosting:
8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1 stick ( 8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 pound or 3 and ¾ cups confectioners’ sugar, sifted
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice or ½ teaspoon pure lemon extract
½ cup shredded coconut (optional)
Finely chopped toasted nuts and/or toasted shredded coconut (optional)

Getting ready:
Position the racks to divide the oven into thirds and preheat the oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Butter three 9-x-2-inch round cake pans, flour the insides, and tap out the excess. Put the two pans on one baking sheet and one on another.

To make the cake:
Whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and salt. In another bowl, stir together the carrots, chopped nuts, coconut, and raisins.

Working with a stand mixer, preferably fitted with a paddle attachment, or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the sugar and oil together on a medium speed until smooth. Add the eggs one by one and continue to beat until the batter is even smoother. Reduce the speed to low and add the flour mixture, mixing only until the dry ingredients disappear. Gently mix the chunky ingredients. Divide the batter among the baking pans.

Bake for 40-50 minutes, rotating the pans from top to bottom and front to back at the midway point, until a thin knife inserted into the centers comes out clean. The cakes will have just started to come away from the sides of the pans. Transfer the cakes to cooling racks and cool for about 5 minutes, then run a knife around the sides of the cakes and unmold them. Invert and cool to room temperature right side up.

The cakes can be wrapped airtight and kept at room temperature overnight or frozen for up to 2 months. (But be honest . . . when you’ve made a cake from scratch and the kitchen smells really good, can you REALLY bear to put it in the freezer at this point? Because I can already taste the frosting at this point)

To make the frosting:
Working with a stand mixer, preferably fitted with a paddle attachment or with a hand mixer in a large bowl, beat the cream cheese and butter together until smooth and creamy. Gradually add the sugar and continue to beat until the frosting is velvety smooth. Beat in the lemon juice or extract.

If you’d like coconut in the filling, scoop about half of the frosting and stir the coconut into this position.

To assemble the cake:
Put one layer top side up on a cardboard cake round or a cake plate protected by strips of wax or parchment paper. If you added the coconut to the frosting, use half of the coconut frosting to generously cover the first layer (or generously cover with plain frosting). Use an offset spatula or a spoon to smooth the frosting all the way to the edges of the layer. Top with the second layer, this time placing the cake stop side down, and frost with the remainder of the coconut frosting or plain frosting. Top with the last layer, right side up, and frost the top- and the sides- of the cake. Finish the top with swirls of frosting. If you want to top the cake with toasted nuts or coconut, sprinkle them on now while the frosting is soft.

Refrigerate the cake for 30 minutes, just to set the frosting before serving.

Serving:
This cake can be served as soon as the frosting is set. It can also wait, at room temperature and covered with a cake keeper overnight. The cake is best served in thick slices at room temperature and while it’s good plain, it’s even better with vanilla ice cream or some lemon curd.

Storing:
The cake will keep at room temperature for 2 to 3 days. It can also be frozen. Freeze it uncovered, then when it’s firm, wrap airtight and freeze for up to 2 months. Defrost, still wrapped, overnight in the refrigerator.

Mis-Adventures in Marshmallow Making

I have a friend who has to watch the end of a show or read the end of a book to see how things turn out before she commits to the whole story.  So I’ll start out by saying this story has a very happy ending.

This week’s Tuesdays with Dorie recipe, Marshmallows, was chosen by Judy of Judy’s Gross Eats .

My story began with a digital candy thermometer. I bought one about a year ago and it only worked once. I wanted to use it for this recipe so I took it apart and found a loose wire. I soldered the wire and another wire came off.  I soldered that one and another one came off . . . you get the picture. I finally decided it wasn’t going to be saved (piece of junk) so I decided to use my old-fashioned bulb candy thermometer. I put the syrup ingredients into a saucepan and put in the thermometer. The mixture was too shallow for the bulb to reach the liquid. So I poured the syrup into a smaller pan and tried again. Still too shallow. I decide to proceed by maneuvering the thermometer into unnatural positions to get the temperature.

Meanwhile, I bloomed and heated the gelatin, whipped the egg whites and measured the vanilla so that everything would be ready when the syrup was ready.

Then back to my tango with the thermometer. In a Duh! moment I decided to see if my digital insta-read thermometer reads high temps. It did, but since the clip is plastic I had to hold the thermometer in the mixture. When the mixture was about 8 degrees from 265 I picked up a bottle on the counter with my free hand to show my husband something. It slipped from my hand into the pyrex bowl containing the gelatin and the dish broke.   You’ll be relieved to know the empty bottle was fine.

 

Now I have egg whites beaten, syrup almost ready, gelatin running over my counter, and no powdered gelatin left in the house. I usually don’t think very clearly when I’m panicing. But I somehow managed to be coherent enough to send my son to the store, with his friend for backup, with the old Knox gelatin box, wondering what I would do if he came home with flavored instant Jello. I turned down the heat on the syrup and said a prayer over the egg whites so they wouldn’t deflate. However, I worried about messing up the syrup if I turned the heat down too low, so I decided to finish it, whip it in, and hope my son would come back from the store very quickly, with the correct gelatin, without exceeding the speed limit.

Was I mixed the syrup into the egg whites, I did have some threading on the sides of the mixer bowl, so after I felt the egg whites had been tempered enough I stopped the mixer for each syrup addition.  I thought using a baster for adding syrup but I’ve gotten rid of all of mine. The gelatin arrived and was duly bloomed, heated, and whipped in without a hitch. I was worried the mixture didn’t seem as sticky and set up as I was expecting, but poured it into a 9 x 13 pan (which seemed easier than the pan Dorie suggests in her recipe) that I had prepared with cooking spray and a mix of cornstarch and powdered sugar. 

. . . And turned around and saw my vanilla sitting on the counter. I was almost resigned to failure by now but I had tasted the mixture (OK! So I had marshmallow cream smeared all over my face from licking the beater) and it still tasted great so I simply poured the vanilla back in the bottle.

Now came the wait: four hours. Yeah right. I held out for about 3 1/2 hours, give or take, and  turned them out onto a cutting board. Happily they came right out of the pan. I sliced them with a pizza cutter and tossed with more cornstarch and powdered sugar. Aren’t they pretty : )

First application? S’mores!

And since it was snowing again for crying out loud, the second application was cocoa.

And then it warmed up a little outside and they were good on top of chocolate peanut butter cup ice cream.

I will say that they became sticky by the next morning which I attributed, rightly or wrongly, to powdered sugar mixed with the cornstarch. I retossed them with just cornstarch and they didn’t get sticky again.

For a different take on making marshmallows, here’s the transcript of Alton Brown’s Good Eats episode “Puff the Magic Mallow“.

So despite trying my best to ruin them, they have gotten rave reviews from everyone who has tried them. Next week: Carrot Cake. Wish me luck!

Marshmallows

Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

Including marshmallows as a spoon dessert may seem like cheating — after all, they’re eaten with fingers (or, by campers, from sticks picked up in the forest) — but making them at home is too much fun to miss. And in fact this dessert is related to others in this chapter: the base is meringue — sweetened and strengthened by a cooked sugar syrup and fortified by gelatin.

There’s nothing difficult about making the marshmallows, but the meringue does need a long beating. While you can use a hand mixer, a stand mixer makes the job easier.

I’m giving you the recipe for a basic vanilla marshmallow. See Playing Around (below) for raspberry, chocolate, cappuccino and pumpkin marshmallows.

Makes about 1 pound marshmallows

About 1 cup potato starch (found in the kosher foods section of supermarkets) or cornstarch

2 tablespoons light corn syrup

2 1/4-ounce packets unflavored gelatin

3 large egg whites, at room temperature

3/4 cup cold water

1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract

1 1/4 cups plus 1 tablespoon sugar

GETTING READY: Line a rimmed baking sheet — choose one with a rim that is 1 inch high — with parchment paper and dust the paper generously with potato starch or cornstarch. Have a candy thermometer at hand.

Put 1/3 cup of the water, 1 1/4 cups of the sugar and the corn syrup in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Once the sugar is dissolved, continue to cook the syrup — without stirring — until it reaches 265 degrees F on the candy thermometer, about 10 minutes.

While the syrup is cooking, work on the gelatin and egg whites. In a microwave-safe bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over the remaining cold water (a scant 7 tablespoons) and let it sit for about 5 minutes, until it is spongy, then heat the gelatin in a microwave oven for 20 to 30 seconds to liquefy it. (Alternatively, you can dissolve the gelatin in a saucepan over low heat.)

Working in the clean, dry bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment or in another large bowl with a hand mixer, beat the egg whites on medium-high speed until firm but still glossy — don’t overbeat them and have them go dull.

As soon as the syrup reaches 265 degrees F, remove the pan from the heat and, with the mixer on medium speed, add the syrup, pouring it between the spinning beater(s) and the sides of the bowl. Add the gelatin and continue to beat for another 3 minutes, so that the syrup and the gelatin are fully incorporated. Beat in the vanilla.

Using a large rubber spatula, scrape the meringue mixture onto the baking sheet, laying it down close to a short end of the sheet. Then spread it into the corners and continue to spread it out, taking care to keep the height of the batter at 1 inch; you won’t fill the pan. Lift the excess parchment paper up to meet the edge of the batter, then rest something against the paper so that it stays in place (I use custard cups).

Dust the top of the marshmallows with potato starch or cornstarch and let the marshmallows set in a cool, dry place. They’ll need about 3 hours, but they can rest for 12 hours or more.

Once they are cool and set, cut the marshmallows with a pair of scissors or a long thin knife. Whatever you use, you’ll have to rinse and dry it frequently. Have a big bowl with the remaining potato starch or cornstarch at hand and cut the marshmallows as you’d like — into squares, rectangles or even strips (as they’re cut in France). As each piece is cut, drop it into the bowl. When you’ve got 4 or 5 marshmallows in the bowl, reach in with your fingers and turn the marshmallows to coat them with starch, then, one by one, toss the marshmallows from one hand to the other to shake off the excess starch; transfer them to a serving bowl. Cut and coat the rest of the batch.

SERVING: Put the marshmallows out and let everyone nibble as they wish. Sometimes I fill a tall glass vase with the marshmallows and put it in the center of the table — it never fails to make friends smile. You can also top hot chocolate or cold sundaes with the marshmallows.

STORING: Keep the marshmallows in a cool, dry place; don’t cover them closely. Stored in this way, they will keep for about 1 week — they might develop a little crust on the outside or they might get a little firmer on the inside, but they’ll still be very good.

Playing Around

RASPBERRY MARSHMALLOWS: Fruit purees are excellent for flavoring these candies.

For raspberry marshmallows, you’ll need a generous 1/3 cup of puree; reduce the vanilla extract to 1/4 teaspoon. After the batter is mixed, gently fold in the puree with a rubber spatula. You can use the same measurements and technique for other purees, such as strawberry, mango and passion fruit.

CAPPUCCINO MARSHMALLOWS: Sift 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder, 2 tablespoons instant espresso powder and 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon together into a small bowl. Stir in 1/3 cup boiling water and mix until smooth. Reduce the vanilla extract to 1/2 teaspoon, and add it to the espresso mix. After you add the sugar syrup and gelatin to the meringue, beat in the espresso mixture and continue.

LIGHT CHOCOLATE MARSHMALLOWS: Melt 3 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate and stir in 2 1/2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder. Reduce the vanilla extract to 1/4 teaspoon, and after the marshmallow batter is mixed, fold in the chocolate mixture with a large rubber spatula.

PUMPKIN SPICE MARSHMALLOWS: Whisk together 1/2 cup canned unsweetened pumpkin puree, 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger, a pinch of freshly grated nutmeg and a pinch of ground allspice. After the marshmallow batter is mixed, fold in the spiced pumpkin with a large rubber spatula.

Pucker Up: The Most Extraordinary French Lemon Cream Tart

A recipe with a name like that has some hype to live up to. The Most Extraordinary French Lemon Cream Tart was this week’s assignment at Tuesdays with Dorie. It’s a shockingly good dessert if you like things on the tart side . . . which I do. Which is why I drank the leftover lemon juice straight up.  Lemon may be the star of this recipe, but butter is the co-star.   There’s almost a pound of butter in this tart, so splurge and buy the good stuff.

This recipe looks simple to put together because it has very few ingredients.  But there are some pitfalls if you’re not paying attention to what you’re doing or haven’t set out your ingredients.

Let’s start with the crust. I chose the Sweet Tart crust (this name starts my craving for a certain sour candy). This is a recipe that could have benefited from some photographs of the process.  You might assume that this should mix together quickly like a pie crust. But you will pulse the mixture in your food processor for much longer than you will feel comfortable with (the rhythmic sound of the food processor as I pulsed it put the Queen’s of the Stone Age song, “Sick, Sick, Sick” in my head for the rest of the day). Don’t talk yourself into adding liquid. Think of it as more of a cookie dough than a pie crust. Be patient and keep pulsing. You actually will hear the sound of the food processor change when the mixture is ready, just like Dorie promises. The mixture may look dry, but if you pinch some between your fingers, it will hold together.

When you’re ready to press the dough into the pan think of it as a graham cracker crust. Add crumbs of dough to the pan and lightly press them in, adding more crumbs as you go, working up the sides of your tart pan. Don’t be too skimpy on the sides, as thin sides will brown too quickly when the crust is baked off. Don’t forget to save a small bit of dough in case there are some cracks to repair halfway through the baking.  I’ve pictured my dough half pressed in and some of it still crumbly below.

Bake the crust as directed. My edges browned a bit faster than the rest of the crust. Next time I will try to make them thicker.

Now to the lemon pastry cream. Have all your ingredients ready to go because things will heat up rather quickly. Without thinking things through, I had the crust in the oven at the same time the filling needed to be constantly stirred. Fortunately I wasn’t home alone at the time and was able to yell for help. Once again, be patient. And if the curd doesn’t seem to be getting from 150 to 180, don’t be afraid to goose up the heat a little to make the final push. Just be sure to keep whisking and you will be rewarded.

Before assembling the tart, Dorie suggests refrigerating the curd separately and leaving the crust at room temperature. When you are ready to serve she advises whisking the chilled curd, pouring it into the crust and serving. I found that if you do that you lose all the body that has developed in the curd during the refrigeration. If you serve it right away the slices will not hold their shape. So, while the first slice wasn’t pretty, it was delicious. I dammed up the curd, refrigerated overnight, and this time the result was pretty AND delicious. When it’s chilled you can also make the pretty swirls that were in the cookbook photo.

This is a tart tart! Which I love! And it’s very rich.  I do have to admit that the amount of butter bothers me slightly. I could probably satisfy the craving with a good key lime pie filling. But it’s not like I’m going to eat this every day. So serve it with lightly sweetened whipping cream, tell your conscience to shut up for a few minutes, and enjoy. Next week . . . Marshmallows.

The Most Extraordinary French Lemon Cream Tart
From Baking: From My Home to Yours

1 cup sugar
Grated zest of 3 lemons
4 large eggs
3/4 cup fresh lemon juice (from 4-5 lemons)
2 sticks plus 5 tbsp unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon-size pieces, at room temperature
1 9-inch tart shell (a sweet or nutty crust would be best)

Getting ready:
Have an instant-read thermometer, a strainer and a blender or food processor at hand. Bring a few inches of water to a simmer in a saucepan.

Put the sugar and zest in a large heatproof bowl that can be set over the pan of simmering water. Off the heat, rub the sugar and zest together between your fingers until the sugar is moist, grainy and very aromatic. Whisk in the eggs, followed by the lemon juice.

Set the bowl over the pan and start stirring with the whisk as soon as the mixture feels tepid to the touch. Cook the lemon cream until it reaches 180 degrees F. As you whisk - you must whisk constantly to keep the eggs from scrambling - you’ll see that the cream will start out light and foamy, then the bubbles will get bigger, and then, as it gets closer to 180 degrees F, it will start to thicken and the whisk will leave tracks. Heads up at this point - the tracks mean the cream is almost ready. Don’t stop whisking or checking the temperature, and have patience - depending on how much heat you’re giving the cream, getting to temp can take as long as 10 minutes.

As soon as it reaches 180 degrees F, remove the cream from the heat and strain it into the container of the blender (or food processor); discard the zest. Let the cream stand, stirring occasionally, until it cools to 140 degrees F, about 10 minutes.

Turn the blender to high (or turn on the processor) and, with the machine going, add the butter about 5 pieces at a time. Scrape down the sides of the container as needed as you incorporate the butter. Once the butter is in, keep the machine going - to get the perfect light, airy texture of lemon-cream dreams, you must continue to blend the cream for another 3 minutes. If your machine protests and gets a bit too hot, work in 1-minute intervals, giving the machine a little rest between beats.

Pour the cream into a container, press a piece of plastic wrap against the surface to create an airtight seal and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight. The cream will keep in the fridge for 4 days or, tightly sealed, in the freezer for up to 2 months; thaw it overnight in the refrigerator).

When you are ready to assemble the tart, just whisk the cream to loosen it and spoon it into the tart shell. Serve the tart, or refrigerate until needed.

Makes 8 serving

Pressure Cooking Adventures with Beef Brisket: Texas Dip

I took a beef brisket out to make in the pressure cooker for dinner last night.  I’m not a fan of the sweet and sour types of preparations so I had decided to prepare it with a horseradish sauce.  Then my son came through the kitchen, perked up, and asked if we were having BBQ sandwiches for dinner.  I thought for a second and and knew that would work great.  My son volunteered to go to the butcher shop down the street to buy some of their really fresh, soft hamburger buns and a pint of potato salad.

I rubbed the brisket all over with Butch’s dry rub. I put a cup of water in the pressure cooker (so I wouldn’t pour it over the brisket and wash all of the rub off), put in the brisket (fat side up), and poured a can of diced tomatoes on top of the meat.    I lidded up, brought it to pressure and cooked it for about an hour and let the pressure release naturally.  When I checked, it was still a little tough in the center area so I brought it up to pressure and cooked for about 5 more minutes, and then quick-released the pressure under running water.

Oooh, brisket bliss.  It was fall-apart tender.  I sliced it across the grain, but some of it just fell apart.  A very good sign!  Then I ladled juices from the pot over the sliced meat and let that soak in, then ladled some more.  The meat just soaked it up.  I put the rest of the juices through my gravy separator, strained out the tomatoes (although they could be left in too), and served it on the side as au jus along with my son’s collection of BBQ sauces.