Easter Ham and Pineapple Pizza ... a.k.a. "The Debby"

When my friend Debby and I were college roommates, we'd wake up hungry after the occasional (or semi-frequent?) night of too much drinking.  Debby would phone in a Hawaiian pizza for delivery.  A short time ago, she said I should create a dish for her on the blog, something salty and sweet.

So this one's for Debby: on this Easter Sunday I skipped roasting a whole ham and made a Hawaiian pizza, which is topped with ham and pineapple.  I threw on some grape tomatoes for a quick roast on top because Debby loves tomatoes, and a few pepperoni strips for good measure.  Have a slice with some beer!

The dough recipe makes 6 small pizzas.  Not feeding a frat party?  Throw some dough balls in the freezer for when the next craving hits.  That's 4 pizzas in the making in my freezer.

Forget Peeps... Make Easter Marshmallows!

These are not the marshmallows of Jet-Puffed fame.  Those styrofoamy things taste OK if you've never had the  homemade, creamy variety.  And they're a really appropriate treat this Easter weekend if you cut them in the shapes of bunnies and chicks.  Then coat them in sparkling pastel sugars and fun sprinkles.

They were a bit hit at book club, where I passed out cellophane bags filled bunny and chick marshmallows nestled into Easter basket grass.  The crowd favorite was the Easter egg sprinkles.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that this recipe, unlike many others, had no egg whites.  The list of ingredients is smaller than usual as well, but the end product is still perfect.  Interestingly, my first batch using Domino brand sugar produced this honey-colored syrup, while a later batch of generic sugar produced a champagne-colored syrup; the marshmallows from both batches tasted and looked identical.  I had the usual fears of crystallization when cooking with sugar, but after a few batches I had not produced a single crystal.  So, what are you still afraid of?

Maybe a wonderfully sticky mess.  Because it is sticky.  And stringy.  Don't try to scrape the bowl and beater clean, because it's futile.  Not to fret... you'll still have plenty of marshmallows.

Dulce de Leche Napoleons

So before Sis arrived for her visit, she asked that we try making this new dessert together.  Flaky layers of golden puff pastry are layered with pastry cream and dulce de leche in what I'll call a napoleon.  I didn't realize this meant I would be making and assembling the dessert while Sis watched and tasted.  But that's all right.  After all, Sis has her hands full these days.

Look at her adorable peanut!  Or, as I call her, My Little Alien.  I can't help it, I'm in love with 2-month-old Audrey.  She really is a handful.  I tried to help, and felt up to my elbows in diapers all week.

Here she was at 3 weeks old, during Chinese New Year, with a hongbao from my dad for his first grandchild.  But enough baby love (for now).  Let's get back to that pastry.

You can make life much easier by using storebought puff pastry.  I've made it before, and it's a pain.  Just thaw your storebought pastry on the counter for 40 minutes, prick all over with a fork, and bake.  I took the recipe a step further by baking with a rack on top of the pastry, to help with an even rise so it doesn't dome so much in the middle.  Then  cool the pastry, split horizontally, and fill.  Easy!

You do have to make the other components, the pastry cream and the dulce de leche, so you may want to prepare those the day before.  I chose a dulce de leche recipe that didn't involve the risk of an exploding can.  Now I'm wondering what other combinations of flavors I can use to make different napoleons.

And Sis?  She loved the dessert, but has one tip: Serve the rest of the dulce de leche on the side, because you're going to want to pour more on top.

Two Kinds of Chips with Caramelized Onion Dip

One day when Joe asked where the bag of potato chips had gone, I sheepishly said I had finished it.  Neither of us felt like going out in the rain for a replacement bag.  But I had a potato, oil, and salt, so why not make some?  It was the easiest thing and I didn't even use a recipe.  A single spud makes dozens of chips, which he devoured in one sitting.

This time I mixed it up a little, with the addition of sweet potato chips and a caramelized onion dip.  Sometimes Joe will mix a packet of powdered onion soup mix into some sour cream to make a dip.  Now I don't mind jarred dip, but I can't stand that soup mix with the dehydrated onion bits.  So I made my own caramelized onion dip, and it was way better.  The sweet potato chips are made the same way, and add a slightly sweet flavor to the mix.

Use a mandoline to create thin, uniform slices of potato.  It's hard to get them thin enough or uniform with just a knife.  You can even leave the skins on the potatoes.  Just slice, soak, dry, and fry -- that's it!

Some of the sour cream in the dip can probably be replaced with plain yogurt -- if you try that, let me know how it turns out.  Also, I know there are recipes out there for baked chips, but in my experience they haven't turned out very good.  They stuck to the pan, didn't brown evenly, and only some come out crispy.  Frying does a more even job; just make it an occasional treat.

Forgive me, but I had to:

The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

Gollum: What's taters, precious? What's taters, eh? 

Sam: *Po-tay-toes!* Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew... Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish. 
[Gollum makes a noise of disgust while sticking his tongue out]
Sam: Even you couldn't say no to that.
Gollum: Oh yes we could. Spoilin' nice fish. Give it to us raw and w-r-r-riggling; you keep nasty chips.
Sam: You're hopeless.

Chocolate Malt Cupcakes

So we've established that I don't like peanut butter and chocolate confections, but in fact I'm not big on most candy.  I do have a soft spot once in a long while for Werther's, Raisinets, or Whoppers.  My friend Charmie laughingly says, "That's old people candy!"  Maybe, but these Chocolate Malt Cupcakes don't look like something Grandma would have whipped up.

I first spied them on The Culinary Chronicles, and they were so cute I had to make them.  When we decided to lighten up a humdrum Sunday night of work last week by throwing an Oscars potluck party, I thought these were perfect.  I know I enjoy crunching on Whoppers while watching a movie.

I left the Whoppers out of the cupcake recipe because I wanted a uniform cake crumb.  I also tweaked the frosting recipe because I have a personal dislike of shortening.  Use a high-quality cocoa powder; I used Guittard.  The malt flavoring is a bit subdued in the cupcake, but all there in the frosting.

Valentine's Peanut Butter Cups

Confession: I don't like chocolate with peanut butter.  To which my friend Jacob would always respond, "I don't understand you, and I don't think I want to."  I don't even like PB&Js.  Give me a PB or give me a J, but not together.

But these chocolate peanut butter cups aren't for me, they're my Valentine's treat to Joe.  He likes Reese's peanut butter cups, but he loved these far more.  (I promise not to make any sickening Valentine's lovey-dovey talk.)  They're hand-made with quality ingredients, see, not some cheap factory-plunked creation.  They'd also make a great gluten-free treat.

These confections are easy to make but require a bit of care.  I combined two recipes I had found.  Melted bittersweet chocolate is brushed on the inside of paper mini-muffin cups, refrigerated, a second layer is brushed on, and they are refrigerated again.  At this point one recipe says to peel off the paper, but this resulted in breakage because the unfilled cups are too fragile.  So I piped the peanut butter mixture into them and froze them briefly, and then removing the paper was easier.

Be quick (the chocolate melts on your fingers), but very gentle when removing the papers.  Expect some breakage and plan on making extras.  Normally I'd console myself over breakage by eating the pieces, but like I said this isn't my kind of treat.  Then hide the broken pieces somewhere and present the prettiest cups to your lucky Valentine.

Pains aux Raisins

I was torn over whether to make these or the pains au chocolat.  Did I want a luscious pastry cream with raisins, or intense bittersweet chocolate?  Turns out I didn't have to choose because each recipe required a half-batch of the same kind of dough!

I brought these along with the pain au chocolat to my last book club meeting, and it wasn't a surprise that everybody chose the chocolate variety.  But Isabelle, our organizer who comes from southern France, took the untouched pains aux raisins with her and said she ate them before she got to the highway.  "The  pains au chocolat were delicious,'' she said, ''but the pains aux raisins were out of this world!"  She added that they were very authentic, and that she doesn't dole out undeserved flattery.  Which is appreciated!  The consensus was the same at home.  Joe found a few I had squirreled away in the freezer to bring to my mother and sister in New York: "Hey, there are more pains aux raisins in here!!"  I forbade him from touching them.  Trust me, he more than ate his share!

Clockwise from top-left: The pastry cream is easy to make and dotted with plenty of vanilla seeds; the dough is then rolled up and sliced (don't forget to add your raisins, or you'll have to unroll like I did); the pains are proofed on a sheet pan; they tend to fall on their sides after rising, so I lay them flat.

The many layers bake up golden and flaky, and the pains are brushed with an apricot glaze.  The pastry cream becomes not so much a filling as an element of moisture and flavor.