My Brown Butter Tart Quest, Part II

So now that I've eased you into my consuming obsession with brown butter tarts, and even left you hanging (I'm sure the anticipation was keeping you up at night), it's time to finish the tale of my epic quest.

When we left off, I had scientifically broken down the three components of brown butter tarts - filling, crust, and fruit - and explained why each is spectacular both separately and as a whole. But I was at a crossroads at how to replicate them in my home kitchen. Should I take the plunge and just cut the recipe down severely? (How exactly could I 1/12th a single egg yolk?) Should I just resign myself to only enjoying brown butter tarts at Bistro VG? Should I send a kind e-mail to the pastry chef asking him or her to elaborate further on the recipe? Should I send an angry e-mail to the pastry chef asking him or her how any home baker was expected to deal with such an unhelpful "recipe" (the most tempting option, I assure you)?

The answer turned out to be none of the above. A few weeks ago, I was perusing one of my favorite food blogs, Smitten Kitchen, browsing innocently through the substantial recipe index when I stumbled upon a recipe for cherry brown butter bars. I stopped dead in my tracks. Could this finally be the answer to my (sugar- and butter-laden) prayers?
Indeed, it was. Turns out that Deb at Smitten Kitchen had adapted a recipe for raspberry brown butter tart (from Bon Appetit) to bars filled with cherries instead of raspberries. And she documented the whole thing, complete with those all-important cross-section shots, and put her stamp of approval on the recipe. It all seemed too good to be true. Was it?

I eagerly e-mailed my mom, who knew all too well that these tarts had become the object of my desire, asking her to confirm that these tarts really did look like the real thing.

Her reply (via e-mail): "om. that's it. I'm sure of it." (For those not in the know, "om" - pronounced "O.M." - stands for "oh my" and is my mom's totally adorable version of "omg.")

So that was it. It was settled. This was the recipe I should use. But for some reason, I was still unconvinced. Or not convinced enough that these were really the real deal, because I kept searching for brown butter tarts. After many hours of tireless searching, I finally came across another recipe from Los Angeles chef Suzanne Goin. Her recipe looked promising, and as a recipe source she seemed trustworthy.

So I did what any self-respecting baker would do. No, I didn't bake each version. Ironically, I wasn't willing to commit the time and calories to such an undertaking (didn't I realize I was baking brown butter tarts?). Instead, I did an ingredient-by-ingredient comparison of all three recipes (Bistro VG, Smitten Kitchen, and Suzanne Goin) to see where differences in flavor and texture might arise.

I had a hunch that, from the photos on SK, the filling might be too custardy and the crust not flaky enough. After several unit conversions and a little bit of Excel work, I figured out that the BVG recipe had much higher ratios of butter than the other recipes, which were pretty similar. To make a long story short, my Excel spreadsheet actually made me more confident in the SK recipe; seeing BVG as the outlier in terms of ratios made me think that perhaps the recipe was faulty to begin with.

So I forged on with the SK filling recipe; I was committed to it, custardy interior and all. As for the crust, I was looking for one that was a deep golden brown (no blonde crusts!) and intensely flaky. Whenever I found a photo of a crust that seemed to embody this ideal, it almost always contained powdered sugar instead of granulated sugar. I'm not sure why this ingredient produces these desired effects, but I knew for sure my crust recipe would utilize it. I eventually found my answer in Dorie Greenspan's tart crust, a fairly common pate sucree variation. Now that I had my crust, filling, and fruit (I opted to make three strawberry and one cranberry), I headed into the kitchen and began.

For all the work I did in researching these tarts, the process of actually preparing them was relatively simple. First, I made the dough, which comes together quite simply and has the added bonus of being ready to use right as it's made. Instead of rolling the dough (a task that always sends me into a stress-induced frenzy), it can be patted right into the tart pans. It takes a bit of practice to get the shells to an even thickness all around, but it was easy work.

While the crusts baked, I set to work on the filling, which was my favorite part of the baking process simply because brown butter is surely heaven-sent from the culinary gods. Its scent is particularly hypnotizing. To merely proclaim it to be "nutty" would be to do it a great disservice. I can only advise you to go brown some butter right now and then please try to capture and bottle that scent and send it my way promptly. Please and thank you.
Like the crust, the filling is quick work and becomes a thick, ribboned concoction spotted with brown butter magic. After assembling the tarts and baking them, it was time for the moment of truth.

How did they taste?

Well, they were everything I wanted and more. My fears about the filling being too custardy were misplaced. While not as cakey as the Bistro VG tarts, the texture was somewhere in the middle of the fudgy/cakey spectrum. Not too dense or airy, but just right. The strawberries turned out to be a spectacular choice for fruit. Their flavor intensifies in the oven, becoming altogether more sweet and tart, similar to the effect oven-roasting has on tomatoes. The real surprise was the crust, though. I was afraid the crust would be more like shortbread than short pastry, but this is the flakiest (and easiest) crust I've ever made. As a whole, the tarts were a resounding success.

The only problem? Given how little effort the tarts require and how big the gratification is, brown butter tarts are all I want to eat right now. I think you'll feel the same.

Strawberry Brown Butter Tarts
As I mentioned in Part I, these tarts are highly adaptable in terms of the fruit you choose to pair them with. I've yet to try out or apples or pears - which I think would require some form of pre-cooking - but feel free to substitute blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, cherries, cranberries, peaches, or plums for the strawberries here. Or try a mixture! I'm currently dreaming of a strawberry-rhubarb version that would be perfect paired with the lovely spring weather we're having.

Yield: 4 (4.5-inch) tarts or 1 (9-inch) tart*

Crust:
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen, who adapted from Dorie Greenspan

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick (8 tablespoons) cold butter, cut into pieces
1 large egg

In the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade, combine flour, sugar, and salt. Pulse a few times to combine. Scatter the butter pieces over the flour mixture and pulse 8 to 10 times, until the butter is the size of peas. Add the egg and pulse in short bursts until the dough gathers into a ball in the food processor. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 5 to 10 minutes, until chilled but still pliable.

Meanwhile, prepare your tart pan(s). Spray them liberally with nonstick cooking spray (especially if the edges are fluted, the last thing you want is precious pastry sticking to the tart pan!).

When the dough is chilled but still pliable (think cold play-doh), begin pressing into the prepared tart pans. I find the best way to do this is to start on the bottom and form an even thickness before working my way up to the sides. Using two fingers, mold the dough to an even thickness (about 1/2 an inch) on the sides, trim any excess, and use the scraps to fill in any gaps on the bottom. Remember that the crust needn't be perfect, but a uniform thickness is essential, as is making sure there are no bare spots.

When the dough is molded into the tart pans, place the pans on a baking sheet and freeze for 30 minutes. As the dough freezes, adjust an oven rack to the center position and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

After 30 minutes, remove the tart pans from the freezer. Prick the bottom of the dough 3 or 4 times with a fork. Prepare four small (or 1 large, if you're making a single tart) squares of foil - they should be large enough to entirely cover the tart dough. Spray the dull (non-shiny) side with nonstick spray and, sprayed side down, place on top of the dough. Fit the foil tightly against the crust.

Bake the tarts (still on the baking sheet) for 15 to 20 minutes, until they are a pale blonde color. Remove the foil and continue baking for 10 to 15 minutes longer, until they are golden, firm, and fully baked. Remove from the oven and allow to cool while you prepare the filling. The finished tarts can be made several hours ahead.

Filling:
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen

7 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces 
1/2 cup sugar
2 large eggs
Pinch of salt
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a light-colored pan (i.e., not nonstick; something stainless steel works fine), melt the butter over low heat, swirling occasionally. Once the butter has fully melted, the foam will begin to sizzle and make cracking noises. Continue cooking, stirring constantly with a spatula or wooden spoon, distributing the milk solids (that's what browns) evenly. The butter will begin to take on a brown color, but watch it carefully as brown can quickly turn to black and you'll have a pan full of burned butter. Once the butter has taken on a deep brown hue and smells intensely nutty (and sublime), remove it from the heat immediately and pour into a small bowl or measuring cup. Allow to cool slightly.

As the butter cools, in a large bowl combine sugar, eggs, and salt and whisk until smooth. Add the flour and vanilla extract and whisk again until smooth. When the butter has cooled (it should be warm, not hot), add it slowly to the sugar-egg mixture, stirring until completely smooth.

At this point, you can set aside the filling, covered, until you're ready to use it.

Assembly:
8 medium-sized strawberries, sliced

To bake the tarts, begin by adjusting an oven rack to the center position and preheating the oven to 350 degrees F. Arrange sliced strawberries in tart shells in concentric circles or in an asterisk-like pattern. If you're baking individual tarts, use an ice cream scoop to portion out the filling evenly (giving it a quick whisk if it's been sitting for a while). It may take a little rearranging of the strawberries to make sure there is filling in all the nooks and crannies of the tart. The filling should come up to the top of the crust. If you're making one large tart, I still recommend using the ice cream scoop to portion out the filling, since it's quick and easy.

Bake the tarts on a sheet pan in the oven for about 30 minutes, or until the filling has puffed and no longer looks wet, and a cake tester inserted into the filling comes out clean. Remove from the oven and allow to cool.

Serve the tarts warm, preferably with a scoop of ice cream or dollop of whipped cream.

The tarts will keep for several days in an airtight container, although they will lose some of their crispness. To re-crisp, bake in a low oven (300-325 degrees F) for a few minutes and serve warm.

 *This recipe will make enough for 4 individual tarts or 1 large tart. Because the tart is rich, I would say the entire recipe will serve 8. I know it's kind of awkward (and defeats the purpose) to serve an individual tart to more than one person, but one individual tart can easily feed 2 to 3 people. That said, if you're serving this to company, I'd go for making the large tart; if you don't have a fancy occasion to serve this (say, it's a Wednesday evening), then spring for the individual ones. It'll make you feel special.

My Brown Butter Tart Quest, Part I

I have three words for you: brown butter tart.

Let me elaborate.

At one of my favorite restaurants, Bistro VG in Roswell, they serve brown butter tarts filled with seasonal fruits: apples and cranberries in the fall, pears in the winter, fresh berries in the spring, and stone fruits in the summer. They are magical. For real, they rival cheesecakes for my favorite desserts, and that’s really saying something, if you know how much I love cheesecake.

And similar to my quest for the perfect cheesecake, I’ve also been on a quest to recreate these brown butter tarts. This quest began nearly five months ago. It was a few days before my birthday, in early November, and I was on the phone with my mom, answering her questions about what I’d like to have for my birthday dinner at home. After discussing the finer details of the main meal, I said, “And I assume you’ve got dessert covered,” with a knowing tone.

“You know we’re not going to have cheesecake,” she said. My heart sank.

“NO CHEESECAKE?!?!!?” I wanted to scream. Instead I muttered, “Oh, alright, well, ok. Well, I’ve got to go. See you soon.” I hung up the phone and quietly mourned by cheesecake-less birthday.

But I shouldn’t have been so devastated. Instead of cheesecake, I was happily presented with three brown butter tarts in various flavors: fig, cranberry, and blackberry. They were heavenly, to be sure.

The tarts that started the obsession: (from left) fig, cranberry, and blackberry. I think the visual of them at my own home allowed me to grasp that I could actually make and enjoy the tarts outside of the confines of the restaurant. 

The very next day I e-mailed the manager at Bistro VG asking for the recipe so that I could recreate it for Thanksgiving. It wasn't until a few weeks later, less than a week before Thanksgiving, when I finally had the recipe, straight from the pastry chef at the restaurant, sitting in my hands.

Well, I should say "recipe." Because apart from a list of ingredients and a general guideline, this was no recipe. For starters, it was fit for a small country, what with the five or so pounds of butter and 20+ cups of flour. It's generally not so hard to halve or quarter a recipe with success, but I'd never dealt with a recipe this industrial in size and with no general idea how many tarts could be made with this gargantuan recipe. So I chickened out, not wanting to risk failure on Thanksgiving, my holy grail of dessert holidays, and decided to go the safer route with my beloved (but not nearly as exciting) pumpkin cheesecake and apple crisp.

But I still couldn't shake the thought of homemade brown butter tarts from my mind. Soon it became something of an obsession for me. Anytime I saw a recipe with brown butter I was drawn to it, and I soon had scoured all of Foodgawker, Tastespotting, and Google of every permutation possible of the words "brown," "butter," and "tart."

Maddeningly, there were few recipes to be found for brown butter tarts. The few contenders were either sparsely reviewed and therefore unreliable (the problem with the Bistro VG recipe) or far from what I had in mind.

To be clear, there are three main components to the Bistro VG tart that make them so incredible: the crust, the filling, and the fruit. Let me explain.

The crust:

Everyone loves a good pastry crust. And this one, a deep golden brown and supremely flaky, is what pastry crust dreams are made of (what, you don't have pastry crust dreams?). It's buttery but not too rich, crisp but not tough.

This photo became my guiding light in my attempt to find a crust recipe that would replicate the supreme buttery, flaky qualities of the original. The excellent golden brown color indicates far more flavor than a blonde crust would, and you can practically see the bits of butter in the baked crust. Also, the flakiness is evident at the bottom of the tart.

The filling:

Imagine the moistest and most buttery and nutty cake and you'll have a good idea of what the filling is like. On the fudgy/cakey sprectrum, it's firmly in cakey territory, but it's not airy. The closest approximation I can make is to a denser, moister gingerbread (in texture, not flavor).

No cross-section shots of the original tart make it hard to visualize the texture of this filling, but this photo comes close. The lightness and cakiness of the filling can be approximated on the perimeter of the tart (left side). 

As for the flavor, it's sublime. Bistro VG always serves these warm, a major plus. The browned butter perfumes the entire filling, giving it a nutty and rich character, but it never crosses over into excessively rich. And like my favorite cheesecake, there's also a gradation of texture. The filling that's in direct contact with the fruit becomes a little bit moister and takes on the dueling sweetness and tartness of the fruit. In contrast, the filling nearest the crust is drier and less dense. Perhaps most importantly, it's not overwhelmingly sweet.

The fruit:

The fruit is what makes the tart. Without it, there would be no balance at all. I doubt I'd turn down a browned butter tart sans fruit, but without it, something is definitely missing. (Plus, adding fruit to any dessert makes me somehow think it's less artery-clogging than a cheesecake or chocolate ganache.) Adding fruit lends a distinct sweetness but also a tartness that cuts the butter flavor from the crust and filling.

This is a cherry tart served with pomegranate arils and rum raisin ice cream. The importance of the cold ice cream and warm tart should not be understated. The contrast in temperature (and the custardy sauce that soon forms from the melting ice cream) is magical.

While I've dissected the components of this tart (and literally, I have: "Wait, let me cut open it to examine the texture," I said to my mom the last time we had it at Bistro VG), it's important to note that the finished product is so much greater than the sum of its parts. The way that everything combines - flaky crust, crumbly filling, a piece of sweet raspberry, and all in one bite - is nothing short of divine.

But how to recreate it at home? I'm not afraid of a project, but I'm a baker and a cook, not a recipe developer. The Bistro VG recipe was a good starting point, but I couldn't bring myself to plunge into five pounds of butter headfirst. Fortunately, and thanks to a fortuitous series of events, my brown butter tart quest was about to take a turn for the better, and in a place I least expected it.

Homemade Pizza Two Ways

When I was little, we used to go to a restaurant that would give kids little balls of pizza dough to play with before the food arrived. It was so much more exciting than crayons and a coloring book. Although I can't remember what restaurant it was that offered this unusual activity, I do remember how fun it was to stretch and mold that dough. It was like all-natural play-doh, but you could actually eat it (or, you could eat it and it wouldn't taste awful).

I hadn't thought about this distant memory for many years until yesterday. As I was making my own pizza dough, the aroma of flour and yeast suddenly brought me back to my childhood. It's safe to say that the scent of fresh dough is one of my favorites, right behind the smell of warm butter and sugar.

Although it's hard to believe, there was a brief time a few years ago when I didn't even like pizza (gasp!). Thank goodness my tastes have adapted, because good pizza is really one of my favorite foods. And when you can make good pizza at home? Even better.

It's my goal this summer to make homemade bread and this pizza was a successful foray into yeast breads. The dough itself was incredibly easy to make. Kneading the dough by hand really allows you to experience the transformation from a shaggy, floury amalgamation to a smooth, elastic ball of dough. After a leisurely rise, the dough was ready to be stretched and adorned with toppings.

I think my favorite thing about pizza is how creative you can be with the toppings. This batch of dough made enough for two medium-sized pizzas and I wanted to make one classic pizza and one that was a bit more whimsical. For the classic pizza, I took inspiration from one of my new cookbooks, Molto Gusto by Mario Batali. There are dozens of pizza recipes in the book, and one that looked particularly delicious combined tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella cheese, anchovies, and capers.

Romana pizza with tomato, fresh mozzarella, anchovies, and capers

While that pizza is decidedly savory, the other has several sweet components. The pizza has a base of sweet caramelized onions; fig jam, mascarpone cheese, balsamic reduction, and chopped pistachios finish the pizza, offering contrasting tastes and textures.

Pizza with caramelized onions, fig jam, mascarpone, pistachios, and balsamic syrup

Both of these pizzas are equally delicious (my mom enjoyed the caramelized onion and fig pizza, while I was fonder of the tomato and anchovy one) and their brief sojourn on a baking stone in a searingly hot oven rendered the crust crisp yet chewy.

We couldn't stop "mmm"-ing and "ahh"-ing over this simple yet satisfying meal. With pizza this good and this easy, it's safe to say we will be for a good while longer.

Pizza so good you'll eat half a slice before photos have been taken (*cough* mom! *cough*)

Homemade Pizza
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen

If you want to make a plain (not whole-wheat) pizza dough, simply use 3 cups of all-purpose flour. The dough may not need as much water (as whole-wheat flour absorbs more moisture than all-purpose) and may not need as much time to rise, so adjust accordingly. You can use dry active yeast instead of instant yeast. Simply use the same amount of yeast but add lukewarm water (about 105 to 110 degrees F) to the dry ingredients.

Yield: enough dough for 2 medium-sized thin crust pizzas

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting work surface
1/2 cup whole-wheat flour
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 1/2 teaspoons instant yeast
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon water
1 1/2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Cornmeal, for dusting
2 recipes of pizza toppings (see two variations below)

Mix flours, salt, and yeast in a large bowl. Add water and olive oil and mix until just combined and the dough is shaggy. Pour the dough onto a well-floured surface (I used a large Silpat baking mat) and knead, folding the dough into itself, until the dough is smooth, about 2 to 4 minutes. Form the dough into a ball.

Pizza dough before the rising period

Spray the bowl you mixed the dough in with non-stick baking spray (or drizzle with olive oil). Add the ball of dough to the bowl and coat with the oil. Cover the bowl with a layer of plastic wrap and allow to rise in a draft-free space for about 90 minutes, until the dough has doubled in size.

 Pizza dough after the rising period 

Pizza dough after being shaped into two balls

Once the dough has doubled in size, preheat a baking stone (or an overturned sheet pan) in the oven to 500 degrees F. Transfer the dough to a well-floured surface and gently press the air out of the dough with the palm of your hand. Take half of the dough and pat it into a round with your hands. Using your fingertips, poke dimples into the dough, slowly pushing the dough outward. Once the dough is about 8 inches in diameter, begin to gently stretch the dough thinner. Placing one hand in the center of the round, use your other hand to stretch the dough outward. Turn the dough as you go to evenly stretch the dough.

When the dough is stretched very thin (about 1/8 inch thick), dust a pizza peel or a sheet of parchment with cornmeal. Carefully transfer the dough round to the peel or parchment and add the toppings.

Once the toppings are added, transfer the dough to the oven. If the dough is on a pizza peel, slide the dough onto the baking stone or overturned pan by quickly jerking the peel forward and then pulling it back. If the dough is on a sheet of parchment, simply transfer the parchment to the baking stone or slide the dough off of the parchment and onto the stone.

Bake for 10 minutes, or until the crust is golden and crisp and the toppings are bubbly and delicious.

Carefully remove the pizza from the oven and allow to cool for a minute or two before cutting into slices, serving, and devouring.

Romana Pizza Topping
Inspired by Mario Batali's Molto Gusto

It's important to use fresh mozzarella here and not the the low-moisture, pre-shredded stuff, which won't melt as well and taste as creamy as the fresh kind. Anchovies often get a bad rap for being overly fishy and salty, but the heat of the oven really transforms them. Here, they are not fishy at all but subtly salty and savory; in a word: awesome. However, if you're still worried about an unwelcome fishiness in your pizza, white anchovies are much more mild than the more common brown anchovies, and you may find that they are less offensive to you. The capers add a welcome brininess that complements the creamy cheese and slightly sweet tomato sauce. If you have a favorite pizza sauce, feel free to use 1 cup of that. 

Yield: enough topping for 1 pizza

About 1 cup canned tomato sauce
2 teaspoons dried Italian herb blend (or a mixture of dried basil, thyme, and oregano)
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
About ounces fresh mozzarella cheese
8 anchovy fillets, rinsed
2 tablespoons capers, drained

In a small bowl, combine tomato sauce, 1 teaspoon of the dried herbs, garlic powder, and salt and pepper to taste. Spoon the tomato sauce onto the pizza dough, spreading it out in an even layer, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Tear the cheese into medium-sized pieces and distribute it in an even layer on top of the sauce. Arrange the anchovies on top of the cheese, making sure to distribute them evenly (I placed whole fillets in the center then put smaller pieces around the edges). Distribute the capers evenly on top of the pizza. Finally, sprinkle the remaining 1 teaspoon of dried herbs evenly over the pizza.

The finished product: pure deliciousness

Caramelized Onion and Fig Pizza Topping

Although this topping has several components, all of the elements are easy to prepare. In this recipe, I use my favorite way to caramelize onions, which uses no oil or sugar (I promise you don't need it!). You can make the caramelized onions ahead of time and store them in the refrigerator for several days. The measurements in this topping are not exact. If you want a sweeter or  cheesier pizza, for example, add more of the fig jam and mascarpone cheese. Instead of mascarpone cheese, a creamy cheese like Fontina, Brie, or Gruyere would also be incredibly delicious.

Yield: enough topping for 1 pizza

1/2 large onion, sliced into half-inch rounds 
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
About 1/2 cup water
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
2 to 3 tablespoons fig jam
3 to 4 tablespoons mascarpone cheese
1/4 cup shelled pistachios, roughly chopped

Heat a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat and add the onions in an even layer. Leave the onions alone for about a minute, until they begin to slightly brown around the edges and stick to the pan. They'll begin to get sticky. Season them liberally with salt and pepper and stir with a spatula. After another minute or so, you'll begin to see a brown film develop on the bottom of the pan (these are the sugars from the onion). Add a few tablespoons of water and scrape the bottom of the pan to release the browned bits. The onions should begin to take on a golden brown color. Continue stirring until all the browned bits have been released from the pan.

Again, leave the onions alone for a few minutes, until they start to stick to the pan and more browned bits develop on the bottom of the pan. Add more water as before. Continue this process as necessary -- adding more water, scraping, and leaving the onions alone -- until the onions are soft, deeply brown, and sweet. It could take anywhere from 15 to 20 minutes longer. When the onions are fully caramelized, transfer them to a bowl and either store in the refrigerator for up to a week or use on the pizza immediately.

Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, heat the balsamic vinegar over medium-low heat until it has reduced to about 2 tablespoons and is thick and syrupy. Reduce the heat to low and set aside until you are ready to top the pizza.

To top the pizza, spread the dough with the caramelized onions in an even layer, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Next, dot the pizza with the fig jam and mascarpone cheese. Drizzle the balsamic syrup evenly over the pizza. Finally, sprinkle the chopped pistachios over the top.

The finished product: sweet and savory pizza heaven

Peanut Butter and Jelly Bars

I think every American child has memories of her first peanut butter and jelly sandwich. There's something so truly American about this classic combination. For me, I remember being in kindergarten, making my own lunch for the first time. I quickly discovered that you had to add lots of peanut butter to the slice of bread to get it to spread right (too little and the bread tore).

I don't think I've had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in eight or nine years. That's not to say that I don't enjoy the combination, because I certainly do. I'm actually more of a peanut butter and banana sandwich fan. I perfected this sandwich in my youth: two slices of wheat bread, a whole sliced banana, and a few swipes of peanut butter. The most important part of the sandwich construction was making sure that the peanut butter and banana were properly layered. I would meticulously spread the peanut butter on the bread slice, then add banana slices in one even layer on top. On the other slice of bread, I'd start with banana slices and spread the peanut butter on top. This way, each bite insured that you had the perfect integration and distribution of peanut butter and banana.
  
But as much as I love those peanut butter and banana sandwiches (and, let's face it, anything with peanut butter in it at all), I don't even buy peanut butter. Our dorm room must be the first that doesn't even have a jar of peanut butter in it. This must be violating some sort of college student code.
  
Still, I'm drawn to any sort of treat that satisfies my childhood nostalgia: homemade Girl Scout cookies, old-fashioned spaghetti and meatballs, homemade mac and cheese, and, perhaps most of all, peanut butter and jelly bars.
  
I first came across a recipe for peanut butter and jelly bars in Ina Garten's cookbook Barefoot Contessa At Home. This book is one of my favorites from of her collection of cookbooks. I remember being instantly drawn to these cookies, but I never had the chance to make them.
  
Recently, I began seeing these bar cookies pop up around different blogs that I read, and I took that as a sign that I should make them. This past week, I volunteered to bake for my hall. Every Wednesday, we have "Midweek Munchies" (usually referred to as just "Midweek"), where someone on our floor chooses a sweet to bake. This week was my turn, and baking these bars was the perfect reprieve from all the final work I had to do before spring break.
  
As far as recipes go, this one was remarkably easy. I'm a notoriously slow cook and baker, and these took only about 30 minutes for me to prepare (in a dorm-room kitchen, mind you). Like my beloved peanut butter and banana sandwiches, these bars are cleverly layered. The bottom of the cookie is similar to a peanut butter cookie base. A layer of jam is then spread over the base before being dolloped with the remainder of the peanut butter cookie mixture. Finally, a scattering of chopped peanuts adds some texture to the finished cookies.
  
I was actually incredibly surprised by how good these bars were. The peanuts added a bit of saltiness that was the perfect complement to the sweet jam. Everyone on my hall quickly devoured these, no doubt a testament to both their deliciousness and the childhood memories they inspire.


Peanut Butter and Jelly Bars
From Ina Garten

While I was making these cookies, I couldn't help but think about all the different variations I could come up with based on this recipe. Instead of jam in the middle, my roommates and I were dreaming of Nutella for an addictive chocolate and peanut butter combination. We also thought that instead of peanuts, a different nut like almonds or cashews (my roommate loves cashews) would be great in the nut dough. If I give any of these a try, I'll definitely let you know how they turn out. I used strawberry jam in these bars, but you can use your favorite flavor (such as raspberry or fig). Due to dorm kitchen limitations, we baked these in two 8 by 8-inch pans. Use either that or a 9 by 13-inch pan.

Yield: about 36 squares, depending on the size you cut them

2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1 (18-ounce) jar creamy peanut butter
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 1/2 cups (about 18 ounces) strawberry jam
2/3 cup roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped

Adjust an oven rack to the center position and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line either a 9 by 13-inch baking pan or two 8 by 8-inch baking pans with parchment paper and then grease and flour the pan.

Either in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment or in a large bowl with a hand mixer, cream the butter and sugar on medium speed until light yellow and fluffy, about 2 minutes. With the mixer on low speed, add the vanilla, eggs, and peanut butter and mix until all the ingredients are combined.

In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt. With the mixer on low speed, slowly add the flour mixture to the peanut butter mixture. Mix until just combined.

Spread 2/3 of the dough into the prepared pan and, using your hands or a knife, spread into an even layer. Next, spread the jam out over the peanut butter layer and smooth into an even layer. With the remaining 1/3 of the dough, drop small globs of the peanut butter dough over the jam. Try to distribute the dough as evenly as possible, but don't worry if all the jam isn't covered - the dough will spread in the heat of the oven. Sprinkle the dough with the chopped peanuts and bake for 45 minutes. The top will be golden brown and the jam will be hot and bubbly.

Cool the bars in the pan and cut into squares. Serve either warm or at room temperature. The peanut butter and jelly bars will keep, stored in an airtight container at room temperature, for up to 3 days.

Cheddar and Scallion Muffins

By now we're probably all pretty tired of sweets and candies. (If you aren't, stay tuned because I've got more where that comes from.) Honestly, I don't think I could ever tire of sweet baked goods, but today I thought I'd change it up a bit.
One of my favorite things to bake is quick bread, from muffins to scones to loaves. They give you the sense of accomplishment associated with bread-baking without all the finicky techniques involved in yeast-risen bread. (In all honesty, I am simultaneously fascinated with and terrified by old-fashioned bread baking.)
In search of a savory muffin recipe to serve along white bean soup (more on that later), I arrived at these simple little things. This is the kind of bare basics recipe that I love. The method is foolproof and the variations are endless. I decided to go with a classic cheddar and scallion version, but there are dozens of potential cheese and herb combinations, and I've listed some below.
The muffins boast a tender, slightly irregular crumb and pack a bunch of flavor in such a small package ("good" cheese and fresh herbs certainly help). Perfect as an accompaniment to a soup or salad or just by themselves, these muffins are ones I will return to again and again.
Chedder and Scallion Muffins
Adapted from Sugarcrafter

My favorite thing about these muffins is how much the flavor can change just by swapping in different combinations of cheese, herbs, and other add-ins. Instead of cheddar cheese, you could use Gruyere, Swiss, parmesan, Manchego (my absolute favorite cheese), Chevre, Comte, Fontina, Taleggio, or blue cheese. You could even combine cheeses for a more complex flavor (Fontina in the muffin and parmesan sprinkled on top, for example). Really, any good melting cheese would be fabulous. Instead of scallions, you could use chives, parsley, cilantro (if you're into that sort of thing), thyme, rosemary, sage, marjoram, or basil. Again, any fresh herb would be a fantastic complement if it's paired with a cheese harmoniously. I'd use 2 to 4 tablespoons depending on how strong of an herb flavor you want. For more inspiration, look to the end of the recipe for more detailed variations. Depending on how much batter you put in the muffin tins, you will get anywhere from 9 to 12 muffins. (I ended up with 9 but the muffins were a little larger.)

Yield: 9 to 12 muffins (see above)

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 scant tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup sharp cheddar cheese (yellow or white), plus 1/2 cup (optional), grated
1 large scallion, chopped
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 cup milk (I used 1%)
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Position an oven rack to the center position and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Line a muffin tin with paper liners or spray with vegetable oil spray.

In a medium bowl, whisk the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt together to combine. Add 1 cup of cheese and whisk again to combine.

In a measuring cup, stir the scallions, egg, milk, and butter together. Add to the dry ingredients and whisk quickly to combine. Don't overmix or the muffins will be tough instead of tender.

Divide the batter among the muffin tins. If you like, sprinkle the additional 1/2 cup of cheese evenly over the muffins. The additional cheese will melt into a nice crust of sorts on the top of the muffins, but you can certainly omit it or use a different cheese if you are so inclined.

Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, or until a skewer inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean. Let cool for 5 to 10 minutes before serving. Store leftovers in the refrigerator in an airtight container for up to a week.

Flavor variations:
Gruyere cheese, thyme, and caramelized onions. Parmesan and Fontina, rosemary, and sundried tomatoes. Goat cheese, roasted red peppers, and parsley. Swiss, finely diced ham, and basil.

Walnut Linzer Sables

I know it seems crazy to post about Christmas cookies after rambling on about New Year's resolutions. I'd like to say that I planned it all along.

The truth is that I am so accustomed to clicking "Publish Post" right after I finish a post that I completely forgot that I wanted to wait until Friday to share my New Year's post. And once it was done I really didn't feel like going back and changing anything. Oh, well.

The (other) truth is that these cookies are, to me at least, more winter-inspired than Christmas-specific. Well, except for the Christmas tree cut-outs. And so we'll pretend that they're actually winter evergreens for the next few minutes.

I received Dorie Greenspan's Baking From My Home to Yours for my birthday and after only a while perusing it all I could think was Where has this book been all my life? I mentally bookmarked about half of the recipes just flipping through and vowed to try out (at least) one this holiday season.
The chosen recipe is these Walnut Linzer Sables. I've long wanted to make Linzer cookies and I was inspired by a Martha Stewart variation that used a small Christmas tree cookie cutter for the top cutter.

I really can't say enough good things about this dough. Ground walnuts lend a wonderful toasty flavor and traditional winter spices add warmth. After being rolled out the dough is chilled before being cut and baked.

Plain, the cookies are redolent of butter, sugar, toasted nuts, and just a hint of cinnamon. The cookies have a sandy texture like a sable (or French butter cookie) but they're sturdy enough to be topped with jam and sandwiched.

I opted to use a cranberry jam that we had on hand because it seemed particularly festive, and it adds a subtle tartness that is a good contrast to the sweet, spiced cookie.

Perhaps my favorite thing about this recipe, besides how easy the dough is to work with, was how versatile it is. As you can see from the photos, the sandwiches can be easily adapted for all sorts of occasions. Obviously for Christmas a tree cutter or any other holiday cutter would be great for making the top cookie. You could use hearts for Valentine's day or flowers for Easter or summer. In autumn, a leaf would do.
After rolling and cutting out all the cookies there will inevitably be some leftover dough. Rather than throwing it away, I opted to roll them into balls and make thumbprint cookies. Now that's what I call fabulous leftovers!

Walnut Linzer Sables
Adapted from Dorie Greenspan

I doubled Dorie Greenspan's recipe and got about 30 or so sandwich cookies (of varying sizes) out of the recipe. Depending on the cutter size you use, you may get more or less. Instead of walnuts, you could use ground almonds, hazelnuts, or pecans. To finely grind the nuts, place them in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade and pulse until the nuts resemble a coarse cornmeal. Be careful not to grind the nuts too much, lest you end up with nut butter (which is still tasty, just not what you're looking for). Instead of cranberry jam, you can use any flavor of smooth jam, such as raspberry or strawberry. If you opt to use a flavor that still has chunks of fruit in it, strain the jam before making the filling for the cookies.

Yield: about 30 sandwich cookies, depending on the size of cookie

For the cookie dough:
3 cups finely ground walnuts (see note above)
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
Scant 1/2 teaspoon cloves
2 large eggs
4 teaspoons water
2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup sugar

For the jam filling:
About 1 cup cranberry jam
1 teaspoon water

Begin by making the dough. Whisk together the ground nuts, flour, cinnamon, salt, and cloves. In a small bowl, whisk the eggs and water.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment or in a large bowl using a hand mixer, cream the butter and sugar together at medium speed until smooth, about 3 minutes, scraping down the bowl as needed. Add the egg mixture and beat for 1 more minute. Reduce the speed to low and add the dry ingredients slowly, mixing until they just disappear into the dough. Be careful not to work the dough much once the flour is incorporated. If the dough comes together but some dry crumbs remain in the bottom of the bowl, stop the mixer and finish blending the ingredients with a rubber spatula.

Divide the dough into quarters. Working with one quarter at a time, put the dough between two large sheets of wax paper or plastic wrap. Use your hands to flatten the dough into a disk. Then, using a rolling pin, roll the dough until it is about 1/4 inch thick. Transfer the dough (still covered in paper or plastic) to a cookie sheet and repeat with the remaining dough. Once all the dough is rolled out, transfer the cookie sheet to the refrigerator and chill for about 2 hours, or until it is very firm. You can also freeze the dough for about 45 minutes. (The rolled-out dough can be wrapped airtight and stored in the refrigerator for up to 3 days or in the freezer for up to 2 months. Just thaw the dough enough to cut out the cookies and proceed from there.)

Once the dough is firm, prepare to bake the cookies. Adjust an oven rack to the center position and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone mats (such as Silpat).

Working with one sheet of dough at a time, remove the dough from the refrigerator. Using a cookie cutter (I used a 1 3/4-inch size and a 2-inch size), cut out as many cookies as you can. Set the scraps aside for re-rolling or making into jam thumbprints (see below). Transfer the rounds to a baking sheet, leaving a little space between the cookies.

Bake the cookies for 11 to 13 minutes, or until the cookies are lightly golden, dry, and just firm to the touch. Transfer the cookies to a rack to cool to room temperature.

While the first batch of dough is baking, repeat with another sheet of dough, making sure to cut as many top pieces (with peekaboo cutouts) as bottom (non-cutout) pieces. Use any small cutter for the cutouts, which can be baked alongside the round cookies. Bake the second batch of cookies on the second baking sheet. Continue baking the cookies, one sheet at a time, until all the dough is used.

Once the cookies have cooled, make the jam filling. Place the jam and water in a microwave-safe bowl and stir to combine. Heat in the microwave until bowling, about 2 minutes. Let the jam cool and thicken slightly (it will still be pourable, though). To fill the cookies, place a bottom cookie flat-side up and spoon a bit of jam on top. Sandwich with a top cookie and let cool on a rack. If the jam layer is a bit thin, drizzle a little more filling into the cutout.

Cool, serve, and enjoy.

For the jam thumbprint cookies: If you have some remaining dough but don't wish to roll it out again, form them into about 1 1/2-inch balls. Flatten into disks about 1/2-inch thick and bake at 375 degrees F for 11 to 13 minutes, until golden around the edges and dry.

Remove the cookies from the oven. While they are still hot, carefully use your finger to form a small indentation in the center of the cookie (you could also use a small spoon). Transfer the cookies to a rack and cool to room temperature. Once the cookies have cooled, fill the indentation with any flavor of jam you like.