Stew for a cold winter's day

white bean stew topped with garlicky broccoli rabe

There's nothing quite like stew to warm you up on a cold, winter's day.  Temperatures have dipped into the twenties here in NY, and all I want to do is curl up on the sofa with a bowl of piping hot stew and a good read.  
It seems I can't get enough of cooking & baking even when I'm not in the kitchen: my current read is a food memoir, by Gesine Bullock-Prado (if that name rings a bell, she's the younger sister of actress Sandra Bullock).  In the wake of her mother's death, Gesine turns to baking to mourn and heal.  Baking conjures up warm childhood memories of her mother's wondrous baked creations and other sweet indulgences, and it infuses happiness into her otherwise miserable days toiling in Hollywood.  Not soon after, she finds herself in Vermont ... with her very own bakery!  The book is called Confections of a Closet Master Baker.  It's an inspiring story, and a tasty morsel of a book, too, with over a dozen scrumptious recipes that scream out to be tried.  There is one sentence in the book that I especially love: In recounting how she got to be a master baker, Gesine writes, "I baked because it made me content and fulfilled and it brought happiness to others."  That's why I bake, too.

But back to something savory, the stew.  Tonight I'm making one of my favorites, a white bean stew with rosemary.  Offer me legumes any time of day, and I will not refuse; I simply love them.  This stew is incredibly simple, requiring just a few ingredients.  The flavors of rosemary and garlic, while subtle, infuse every spoonful.  

The recipe calls for dried white beans.  They're most commonly packaged in plastic bags, but I always look for ones sold in sealed containers (they're sold in bulk bins at Whole Foods, for example), because they last longer when stored that way.  The beans should be soaked for a minimum of eight hours.  Recipes usually say "soak overnight," but if you're planning on cooking them for dinner, the beans can be soaked first thing in the morning.  Soaking allows for shorter cooking times, preserves most nutrients, and allows the beans to cook evenly.  For a smoother, more velvety texture, once simmered a portion of the beans can be pureed in a blender.   I like topping my stew with some garlicky greens and served alongside some crusty bread.  The recipe, as written, is vegetarian, although it can be modified by adding some pancetta or thick-cut bacon.  

White Beans with Rosemary Stew
Adapted from Madhur Jaffrey, "World Vegetarian."  Serves 4


1 1/2 cups dried white beans, picked over and rinsed
1/4 cup olive oil
1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
1 medium onion, peeled and chopped
2 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
1 medium tomato, finely chopped
1 bay leaf
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
freshly ground pepper

Soak the beans for a minimum of eight hours.  Drain, discarding the soaking liquid.

Put the oil in a wide, medium pot and set over medium-high heat.  When hot, put in the rosemary, onion, and garlic.  Stir and fry for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the onion just starts to brown.  Add the tomatoes and bay leaf and stir for a minute, then add the drained beans, 3 1/2 cups of water, salt, and pepper to taste.

Bring to a boil.  Cover, turn the heat down to low, and simmer gently for 1 1/2 hours, or until the beans are quite tender.

For a pureed, smoother texture, place about 1/3 of the beans, along with some of the liquid, to a blender.  Blend until thick and smooth.  Return blended soup to pot and stir.

Serve immediately.

Day 2 with Rose: Eggs--whites or yolks?

My second day with Rose is a lesson on eggs.  I have graduated from making pound cakes to making butter cakes.  I am feeling rather proud.  I am also feeling more relaxed, given how swimmingly I did on Day One.  No bundle of nerves, no frantic running around the kitchen.  This day should go smoothly.

The ingredients for making butter cake fall into two main categories: those that form and strengthen the cake structure, and those that weaken it.  Flour and eggs fall into the first category; both contain proteins that, when baked, coagulate (i.e., change into a thickened mass) to form the supporting structure of the cake.  Fat, sugar, and leavening fall into the second category of ingredients; they tenderize the cake structure by weakening it.  Liquids fall somewhere in between the two: liquids combine with the flour to form gluten, which is necessary to add to the structure of the cake.  But too much liquid and the cake will be heavy, and too little liquid and the cake will collapse.  Just the right amount of liquid will create a moist cake with enough structural support.

For my lesson on eggs, I am making two kinds of butter cakes: one with egg yolks instead of whole eggs (Golden Butter Cream Cake), and the other with egg whites only (White Velvet Butter Cake).  Using egg yolks instead of whole eggs adds flavor and color as well as a fineness of crumb to the cake.  Based on Rose's explanations, I should expect the Golden Butter Cream Cake to be more golden in color and richer in flavor relative to the White Velvet Butter Cake; the crust should also brown more because yolk is higher in protein.  On the other hand, I should expect the White Velvet Butter Cake to be slightly softer because yolk becomes firmer after coagulating than do egg whites.

Golden Butter Cream Cake batter

 

Golden Butter Cream Cake, right out of the oven.  True to its name, it is golden in color.  As expected, the crust has browned and forms a nice firm outer layer.

Golden Butter Cream Cake adorned with Royal Honey Buttercream frosting.  Exquisite!

I make the Golden Butter Cream Cake first.  While the cake is baking, I set to work on the frosting, a Royal Honey Buttercream.  This is another one of Rose's concoctions.  It is essentially more egg yolks and butter with a squirt of honey thrown into the mix.  Twenty-five minutes later, I take out the cake, which is a golden yellow.  I can't wait to eat it; in fact, I don't.  Before it's completely cooled, and before I've even finished making the frosting, I bite into it.  

Wow! is the first word that escapes my mouth.  The cake is light and airy on the inside.  And the crumb ... the crumb!  The fine crumb of the cake is what gets me really excited.  The cake is velvety and nearly melts in my mouth.  It is like no cake I've ever baked before. 

I tear myself away from the cake to finish making the frosting.  On its own, I find the Royal Honey Buttercream too buttery for my liking, but I am drawn to its dreamy aroma.  Once I spread it on the cake, I discover that its creaminess is a nice complement to the fine texture of the cake.

(Tip: If you aren't planning on using the left-over egg whites right away, they can be stored covered in the fridge for a few days.)

White Velvet Butter Cake frosted with Maple Buttercream.  The buttercream has a softer hue relative to the Royal Honey Buttercream.  The cake itself is white.

I make the White Velvet Butter Cake next.  If I thought I had found the ultimate cake in the Golden Butter Cream Cake, I realize I may have been wrong.  The White Velvet Butter Cake is moist and soft and, best of all, springy.  Sweet, buttery flavors bounce off of the cake onto my taste buds.  

I've made the White Velvet Butter Cake into a two-layered cake.  I had intended to adorn the cake with Raspberry Buttercream.  I hadn't read through the entire recipe for the frosting, though, which calls for the frozen raspberries to be thawed in a strainer suspended over a bowl over the course of several hours.  That's more hours than I have so late in the evening.  (Important lesson learned: Always read through the entire recipe (frosting included) before beginning to bake.)  So I decide on Maple Buttercream.  This is a variation on Rose's classic buttercream frosting; maple syrup and maple extract replace the corn syrup.  I don't have any maple extract on hand so I make do without.  I know it is only my second day with Rose, but I feel that this slight deviation can't be helped.  In fact, I think it comes out fine; I can't imagine how a more concentrated flavor can improve the already richness of the frosting.  

Once the frosting sets on the cake, it forms a nice "crust."  It is time to eat!  My fork hits the rich maple outer layer of the cake.  It sinks into velvety cake before passing through another thick layer of maple frosting on its way to the second layer of velvet.  The experience is pure delicate goodness.

Can it get better than this?  Next up: fruit cake.  More on that next!

Golden Butter Cream Cake

Recipe from The Cake Bible, by Rose Levy Beranbaum

Room temperature

3 large egg yolks

1/2 cup heavy cream

3/4 teaspoon vanilla

1 1/2 cups sifted cake flour

3/4 cup sugar

1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

10.5 tablespoons unsalted butter (must be softened)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

 

In a medium bowl lightly combine the yolks, 2 tablespoons cream, and vanilla.

In a large mixing bowl combine the dry ingredients and mix on low speed for 30 seconds to blend.  Add the butter and remaining 6 tablespoons cream.  Mix on low speed until the dry ingredients are moistened.  Increase to medium speed and beat for 1 1/2 minutes to aerate and develop the cake's structure.

Scrape down the sides.  Gradually add the egg mixture in 3 batches, beating for 20 seconds after each addition to incorporate the ingredients.  Scrape down the sides.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan* and smooth the surface with a spatula.  Bake 25 to 35 minutes or until a wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. 

*Grease a 9-inch by 1 1/2-inch cake pan, line the bottom with parchment or wax paper, and then grease again and flour.

Let the cake cool in the pan on a rack for 10 minutes and invert it onto a greased wire rack.  For an attractive top crust, reinvert so that the top is up and cool completely before wrapping airtight.

Serve at room temperature.

 

White Velvet Butter Cake

Recipe from The Cake Bible, by Rose Levy Beranbaum.  Makes two cakes.

Room temperature

4 1/2 large egg whites

1 cup milk

2 1/4 teaspoons vanilla

3 cups sifted cake flour

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon baking powder

3/4 teaspoon salt

12 tablespoons unsalted butter (must be softened)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a medium bowl lightly combine the egg whites, 1/4 cup milk, and vanilla.

In a large mixing bowl combine the dry ingredients and mix on low speed for 30 seconds to blend.  Add the butter and remaining 3/4 cup milk.  Mix on low speed until the dry ingredients are moistened.  Increase to medium speed and beat for 1 1/2 minutes to aerate and develop the cake's structure.

Scrape down the sides.  Gradually add the egg mixture in 3 batches, beating for 20 seconds after each addition to incorporate the ingredients.  Scrape down the sides.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pans* and smooth the surface with a spatula.  Bake 25 to 35 minutes or until a wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  

*Grease two 9-inch by 1 1/2-inch cake pans, line the bottoms with parchment or wax paper, and then grease again and flour.

Let the cakes cool in the pan on a rack for 10 minutes and invert it onto a greased wire rack.  If baked in a loaf pan, to keep the bottom from splitting, reinvert so that the top is up and cool completely before wrapping airtight.

Serve at room temperature.

Earthy, rustic fare on New Year's Eve

Greg and I invited over to my apartment two dear friends over for NYE.  They are newlyweds expecting their first child (a girl - we are all very excited!).  Pie in hand and bundled in thick coats against the sharp cold of the evening, they made their way over to my apartment in the city to ring in the new year with us.  

No celebration is ever complete without good food.  And lots of it.  With that motto in mind, Greg and I served the following menu:
     To start, "charcuterie cones": thinly sliced chorizo salami, topped with a mound of radicchio salad (shredded radicchio, chopped peperoncini, toasted pine nuts, and finished off with a red wine vinegar olive oil dressing), and rolled up into a cone.
     Appetizer: sausage and radicchio orecchiette
     Main course: Asian-brined pork loin, sauteed mustard greens, and herbed bulgur-lentil pilaf

Greg slicing the pork loin

mustard greens sauteed with fresh garlic and minced shallot

home-made apple pie, lovingly baked by our friends

sausage and radicchio orecchiette

herbed bulgur-lentil pilaf

The sausage and radicchio orecchiette is a recipe from the the Cooking Channel's Extra Virgin, co-hosted by actress Debi Mazar and her native Italian husband Gabriele Corcos.  They live a rather charmed life, splitting their time between their home in Brooklyn and a house just outside of Florence, Italy.  Each week, they invite viewers into their kitchen to share with them fresh, traditional Tuscan-inspired recipes.  Even to a casual follower of the show like myself, it's clear that their passion for food and for each other (even after a decade of marriage they appear madly in love) is authentic.  Their creations are simple dishes with earthy, rustic flavors.

The orecchiette is my favorite of their dishes.  The fats from the pork sausage lend a rich, hearty flavor to the dish, and the crushed walnuts are a healthy way of adding further flavor and texture.  Radicchio, with its tinge of bitterness, nicely complements the sweetness of the sausage, and the wine completes the perfect harmony of flavors.  (Although most of the wine gets cooked away, we used chicken broth for this meal.)

The herbed bulgur-lentil pilaf we also served that night is really special, not only for its flavor, but also for the fact that it is the first dish that Greg and I ever cooked together.  It is really simple to make but oh, so delicious.  And it's nutritious enough to stand as a meal in itself.  The lightness of the bulgur, the slight crunch of the lentils, the earthy notes of the herbs, and the zestiness of the lemon juice, all work to make this magical dish.

All photos courtesy of my friend Jason

Sausage and Radicchio Orecchiette
Recipe courtesy of Gabriele Corcos and Debi Mazar, Extra Virgin.  Serves 4 to 6.

3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 red onion, chopped fine
1 handful fresh mint
2 fresh bay leaves
4 (6-ounce) pork sausage links, casings removed
3/4 cup dry white wine
1 handful walnuts, hand crushed
2 cups orecchiette
1/2 head radicchio, thinly sliced
salt and pepper to taste
freshly grated Parmesan cheese, to taste

Heat a pan over medium-high heat. Add the olive oil. Once hot, add the onion and the sausages and using a wooden spoon, break up the sausages into small pieces as you brown them. Add the mint and bay leaves and continue to cook.

Once the sausage is golden brown, add the wine to the pan, and stir away, let the alcohol evaporate, then lower the flame and season with salt and pepper. Add the walnuts and let the sauce slowly simmer for about 5 to 10 minutes.

Cook the pasta in a large pot of salted boiling water according to package directions for al dente.  When ready to serve, add the readicchio to the sauce, and stir well.  (You want to wait until the last minute to make sure that it stays crunchy.)

Add the cooked pasta and toss.  Add some grated Parmesan, to taste.  Serve immediately.

Herbed Bulgur-Lentil Pilaf

Recipe courtesy of Ellie Krieger.  Serves 4. 

1/2 cup green lentils

1 cup bulgur

4 cups low sodium chicken broth

1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons olive oil

1 small red onion, finely diced

1 yellow pepper, seeded and finely diced

3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil leaves

2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives 

1 teaspoon lemon zest

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

Place lentils and 2 cups broth in a small saucepan and bring to a boil.  Boil 5 minutes, then reduce to a simmer and cook until lentils are tender and most liquid is dissolved, about 30 minutes.  Drain any remaining liquid.  

While lentils are cooking, place bulgur and remaining 2 cups chicken broth in an other small saucepan and bring to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer until most liquid is dissolved and bulgur is tender, about 13 to 15 minutes.  Remove from heat and fluff with a fork.  Add the bulgur to the lentils.

Heat 2 teaspoons of the oil in a skillet over medium heat.  Add onions and cook, stirring, until tender, about 5 minutes.  Add peppers and cook until peppers are tender, another 5 minutes.  Add the onion mixture to bulgur-lentil mixture.  Stir in parsley, basil, chives, lemon zest, lemon juice, remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil, salt and pepper, and toss to incorporate.

My first day with Rose: Pound cakes 101

I never wanted to make pound cake.  I can't say for certain what I have against them.  They're rather harmless (if you overlook the mounds of butter that go into making them), dull creatures.  Maybe that's what it is: pound cakes are ... well ... boring.

But Rose said to bake a pound cake*, so bake a pound cake I did. 
(* To be exact, in her book The Cake Bible, Rose describes the pound cake recipe as the "basic formula from which all other butter cakes evolve."  If I wanted to start with the basics in cake making, it was clear to me that I would have to make a pound cake.)

Each of Rose's cake recipes include some steps that I don't often come across in other recipes.  First, flour is sifted. Sifting areates the flour, separating the particles so that the flour can absorb liquids more evenly.  This adds volume to the cake, making it light and airy. 

I've never sifted flour in all my years of baking, although I do recall a sifter amongst my mother's kitchen utensils.  It was one of those old-fashioned kinds with a squeeze handle (I can still hear the squeak, squeak sounds that it made).  Having suffered many a pinched finger while playing with it as a child, I learned long ago that sifters are not gentle on the hand.  It's no wonder I don't own one. 

Rose's cake recipes also call for a two-stage method of mixing batter, which contrasts with the more prevalent creaming method.  Under the two-stage method, once the flour has been sifted, all of the dry ingredients are mixed together first.  Then and only then are the fats (e.g., butter) and the liquids (e.g., eggs, milk) incorporated.  Rose explains that the first stage helps to disperse the dry ingredients more evenly (there are no liquids or fats to cause lumps).  In the second stage, all the fat and some of the liquids are added to the dry ingredients.  This is designed to inhibit the formation of gluten.  Gluten forms when flour is agitated in the presence of moisture.  However, because the fat is added to the flour with a minimum amount of liquid, it is able to coat the gluten-forming proteins in the flour, preventing excessive gluten when the other liquids are later added (too much gluten forms a tough cake).  Under the creaming method, on the other hand, the fat and sugar are creamed together as a first step before other dry ingredients are added.  Rose's approach is simpler, faster, and easier; and the results, I can attest, are far better.  More on the results in a bit. 

Rose's recipes also call for cake flour.  Cake flour has finer granulation than all-purpose flour, and so it absorbs fat and moisture more quickly.  It is also often bleached with chlorine, which serves to inhibit gluten formation, yielding a cake with a soft, tender crumb.

The morning of my first day in the kitchen with Rose, I am a bit of a nervous mess.  Rose starts her book with these words: "Perfect cakes can be achieved by any cook who is careful and who is willing to follow recipe directions."  She has also entitled her pound cake recipe "The Perfect Pound Cake."  I take all these signs to mean that if my pound cake doesn't come out perfectly, there is clearly something wrong with me.

I want to start my Year of Baking with flying colors.  There is no way I am going to bake a subpar cake, albeit a pound cake.  So with all of the confidence I can muster, I get to work.

The first step is easy enough: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  I am stumped however by the second line: In a medium bowl lightly combine the milk, eggs, and vanilla.  "Lightly combine?"  What could that mean?  Do I mix?  Or whisk?  And if I mix, at what speed?  I start to panic a little.  I decide to whisk, just a little.  After that I breeze through the instructions.  The step on preparing the pan gives me pause, however: If using a loaf pan, grease it, line the bottom with parchment or wax paper, and then grease again and flour.  That seems like an excessive amount of greasing.  Is it really necessary?  But I'm not about to question Rose so early in the year.  Besides, it's hard to argue with the bible.

The pound cake takes 55 minutes to bake.  I find it an awfully long time to see how I did.  I take it out of the oven.  I eye it skeptically.  It looks and smells good.  It has a golden hue and the sweet fragrance of vanilla and sugar.  Once it's cooled on the rack, Greg nudges me.  It's morning, and neither of us have eaten yet.  He's hungry, and curious.  I am, too.  We both take a bite.  I am thrilled, though not at all surprised, to report that the recipe didn't disappoint.  Or rather, that I didn't disappoint Rose (or myself).  Just as Rose described, it is tender, moist, and light.  She suggests eating it plain, or with a dusting of powdered sugar.  And served at room temperature.  I find it goes deliciously well topped with Sarabeth's strawberry raspberry preserve.  

So, is my mind changed about pound cakes?  It is evening and I am still unsure as to whether pound cake can be anything but boring.  I have some friends over for dinner.  They bring over an apple pie, and the pound cake stays in the fridge.  As they are leaving, I mention I've baked and ask if they'd like to take some pound cake home with them.  They eagerly accept. "Are you sure?!" I nearly blurt out.  Instead, I smile sweetly and wrap a large slice for them.  

The next morning, I have another slice for breakfast.  I smile.  It hits me (albeit belatedly): this is by far the best pound cake I've ever eaten. The cake -- in color, texture, and taste -- *is* perfect.  And that's all that matters as I finish off my slice with some tea.  

Perfect Pound Cake
Recipe from The Cake Bible, by Rose Levy Beranbaum

Room temperature
3 tablespoons milk

3 large eggs

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

1 1/2 cups sifted cake flour

3/4 cup sugar

3/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

13 tablespoons unsalted butter (must be softened)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a medium bowl lightly combine the milk, eggs, and vanilla.

In a large mixing bowl combine the dry ingredients and mix on low speed for 30 seconds to blend.  Add the butter and half the egg mixture.  Mix on low speed until the dry ingredients are moistened.  Increase to medium speed and beat for 1 minute to aerate and develop the cake's structure.

Scrape down the sides.  Gradually add the remaining egg mixture in 2 batches, beating for 20 seconds after each addition to incorporate the ingredients.  Scrape down the sides.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan* and smooth the surface with a spatula.  Bake 55 to 65 minutes or until a wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Cover loosely with buttered foil after 30 minutes to prevent overbrowning.

*If using a loaf pan, grease it, line the bottom with parchment or wax paper, and then grease again and flour.

Let the cake cool in the pan on a rack for 10 minutes and invert it onto a greased wire rack.  If baked in a loaf pan, to keep the bottom from splitting, reinvert so that the top is up and cool completely before wrapping airtight.

Serve at room temperature.

Cake, my first love

My guides in the world of baking for the next 12 months

I've rounded up and purchased a shortlist of what some consider to be the best baking books of all time: Rose Levy Beranbaum's The Cake Bible; Dorie Greenspan's Baking: From My Home to Yours; Baking and Pastry: Mastering the Art and Craft, by the Culinary Institute of America; and The King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion: The All-Purpose Baking Cookbook, by King Arthur Flour.

In narrowing down what books to get, I looked for clarity (I want thorough explanations of what, how, and why) and content (I'm less after sheer volume of recipes, and more interested in ones that are accessible to bakers of all levels).  Tone is important to me, too: I want authors that are approachable and engaging; after all, I'll be spending a lot of time with them in the kitchen, following their instructions.  I've thumbed through these four books, and it seems I've got a lot to learn.

I decide to start My Year of Baking by baking cakes.  The decision requires no real thinking.  Cakes are, after all, my first love.

My love affair with cakes began at the tender age of one.  I have a picture that captures that joyful day: there is a table, draped with a delicate eyelet lace cloth, and atop the table sits a cake, beautifully frosted in pink and white.  My sister and I are both seated at the table.  We are a picture in contrast. She poses serenely for the camera. There is nothing serene about me.  I am a ball of excitement: eyes wide, mouth agape, small hands gripping the table.  It's almost as if, about to take my first bite of cake, I foresee the pure joy that this baked delight will bring me from that day forward.

So, back to baking cakes.  To learn all there is to know about cakes, I turn to Rose Levy Beranbaum and The Cake Bible.  Rose seems to me the perfect person to demystify cake baking.  For one, she wrote her masters dissertation on whether sifting affects the quality of a yellow cake (!).  She seems to have an encyclopedic knowledge of baking techniques and tips.  Her passion for baking and teaching shine brilliantly through her writing, which is incredibly clear and straight-forward.  And if all that weren't enough, for each recipe that she shares in her book, she provides lengthy discussions about the ingredients and what they contribute to the cake.  (There is even a separate section for passionate amateurs (me!) on the chemistry of baking.)

Over the next couple of weeks, I'm going to learn as much as I can about cakes, all the while baking a variety of them: butter cakes, fruit cakes, custard cakes, breakfast cakes, sponge-type cakes.  Sitting here, looking ahead, I'm feeling equal parts apprehension and excitement.  First up: pound cakes.  More on that next!

2013: My Year of Baking

I'm setting out to learn how to bake.  Even though I've been making cakes and pies and cookies and tarts and muffins and still other goodies for the past 15 years, I can't say that I really know how to bake.  Sure, my attempts have met with some success.  I've perfected a carrot cake that had one friend suggesting we get into the cake-selling business together.  My chocolate olive oil cupcakes are always a hit at parties.  And my signature dessert once drew a comparison to the chocolate layer cake at the ever-popular Brooklyn dessert spot The Chocolate Room.

But even so, I've simply been following instructions.  (Well, for the most part anyway.  One early disastrous mistake, in high school, was mistaking salt for sugar.  I can assure you I've since become far more diligent and focused.) 

This year, I want to go beyond reading recipes to understanding them.  I want to comprehend the hows and the whys of baking: everything from basic formulas to fundamental techniques to the chemical reactions that occur during the baking process.  I want to understand what contributes to a dessert's flavor and texture; and when and how I can omit, add, or substitute an ingredient or step.  

And why all this?  I want to understand the basics of baking so that I can be free to create desserts of my own: fanciful, unique, things that speak about me.

It'll be hard work for sure.  A lot of reading, practicing, experimenting, mistakes (although hopefully not the same ones repeated) and redos; frustrations mixed in with disappointments.  I'm up for the challenge.  On the flip side, when I'm home there's nowhere I'd rather be than in the kitchen.  So I might as well spend even more time in my sanctuary.  Besides, I expect it to be fun -- a lot of fun.  Maybe I'll even encounter some unexpected epiphanies along the way.  Not least of all, I'm looking forward to the gratifying smells and tastes of the treats I'll be pulling out of the oven throughout the year.

I'm excited about this journey I'm embarking on.  And with that, I name 2013 "My Year of Baking."

Easy Pizza for Tough Times

Back to Apron Anxiety.  Back again in NY but feeling miserable, Alyssa has exiled herself from the kitchen, only to find her way back again while on the mend from being sick.  She's regained her appetite and instinctively knows that nothing can quell her hunger pangs more than her own cooking.  What does she make?  Pizza, of course!  Since she's just recovering from the flu, she decides to "cheat a little" and gets some dough and marinara from a nearby pizza shop.  She then caramelizes some onions, shreds mozzarella and cheddar, grabs a handful of basil leaves from her parents' window box, and adorns the dough with all of it.  Twenty minutes later, she pulls the pizza out of the oven; it is exactly what she needed.  She names the recipe "Easy Pizza After a Tough Time."

I'm sitting at my kitchen counter, feeling a bit melancholy.  And tired.  My tea (I am sipping almond cookie rooibos) is helping.  (How can it not?  It's quite literally a cookie in liquid form.)  The slice of apple pie I just ate is helping, too.  Then I think back to last weekend, when I tried out the pizza recipe, and that helps, too.

I've never made pizza before, so despite the simplicity of the recipe, I am excited to try my hand at it.  I caramelize some onions and chop up some basil leaves.  To give the pizza my own flair, I also roast some eggplant and slice some chorizo and salami that I have on hand to serve at my New Year's Eve party.  Along with some shredded mozzarella, I have its rich, luscious, cream-filled cousin burrata (it aptly translates to "buttery" in Italian).  When all of the ingredients are assembled, I roll out some ready-made pizza dough.  Preferring less sauce to more, so as not to have it overpower the other ingredients, I ladle only a few small spoonfuls of marinara onto the dough.  (I cheated too; I got my dough and marinara from FreshDirect).  Then I top the dough with everything but the basil and burrata.  These I add at the very last.

The pizza looks and tastes amazing.  Rustic is the first word that comes to mind.  The crust is golden, the veggies and meats are cooked to perfection, and the burrata has coated everything with a rich, creamy layer.  The only slight disappointment is the basil, which is wilted, although not burnt.  I decide it only needs to be in the oven for 1-2 minutes at most.  It is a simple, hearty meal.  Even thinking about it makes a tough time easier to get through.  I think Alyssa is onto something.

Easy Pizza After a Tough Time
Adapted from Apron Anxiety.  Serves 2.

1 ball pizza dough
1/4 cup flour, or enough for dusting the surface
3 tablespoons tomato sauce (or more, if desired)
1 ball of fresh burrata cheese (you will only need about 4 oz.)
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
1 small eggplant
a few slices of cured meats of your choice
1/2 cup fresh herbs (such as basil leaves)
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to broil.

Peel the eggplant, and slice into 1/2-inch thick rounds.  Sprinkle with a bit of salt and allow to sit for at least 20 minutes.  (This is done to draw out the eggplant's moisture.)  Rinse and gently pat dry.  Place eggplant slices on a foil-lined baking sheet.  Brush each slice of eggplant with olive oil.  Broil for 4-5 minutes.  This can be done a few hours ahead or even the day before.  Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 500 degrees.

Grease a non-stick pizza pan, or line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, and dust with flour.  Roll out the dough with a rolling pin.  Transfer the dough to the pan or cookie sheet.

Heat a skillet over medium heat, then add 2 tablespoons olive oil.  Saute onion slices until very soft, about 10 minutes.  Set aside.

Slice the burrata.  Set aside.

Ladle the tomato sauce over the dough.  Spread it evenly with the back of a spoon.  Scatter the cured meats on top of the sauce, then layer the onion and eggplant slices.  Season with salt and pepper.

Place the pizza on the middle rack in the oven.  Reduce the oven temperature to 450 degrees.  After about 10-12 minutes, before the crust gets to be a golden brown, add the burrata slices to the pizza in the oven, so that it gets just melted.  A minute afterwards, sprinkle some basil leaves onto the pizza.

Remove the pizza from the oven, and let rest a few minutes.

Serve hot.