Making Biscuits for Baby: Peach Shortcakes

These fluffy, buttery shortcakes are filled with peaches and cream with a dash of cinnamon, perfect for the summer.  I had planned and looked forward to doing a recipe like this earlier, eagerly anticipating peach season.  But a couple of weeks ago our cat, Baby, was struck with a sudden illness and we lost him very shortly after.  His suffering was heartbreaking.  After losing him, I barely slept and had no appetite whatsoever, both of which could not be more unlike myself.  I cried.  A lot.

Baby was the cat who thought he was a person, and had a big personality by turns loving, inquisitive, even bossy.  My furry BFF.  I missed falling asleep and waking with him, having him insist on sharing my seat at the table, greeting me when I came home, petting his soft fur, looking into his sweet face.  His little brother, Shnooky, has been a comfort to us.  (Disclaimer: I didn't name them, but their names are very fitting.)

Like many cats, Baby would use his claws to knead beds and blankets.  My friend Bill once told me, "Do you know what they call cats doing that in the South?  Making biscuits."  And when I finally regained some appetite for food and life, I knew I wanted to make this recipe.  So this post is for you, buddy, and nine years of beautiful friendship.  I will always miss you more than I can say.

This biscuit recipe is super-easy, and it advises you to handle the dough as little as possible for the softest biscuits.  But that's not my style.  Instead of just scooping the dough onto baking sheets, I rolled out the dough and cut out biscuits with a scalloped cutter.  Much prettier.  At top, the unbaked rounds, and above, golden puffed-up goodness.

While they're still warm, split them open and top the bottom half with sweetened whipped cream and peaches and some ground cinnamon.  You might even want to enjoy it in the outdoors.

This post was linked up with Sweets for a Saturday.

Blackberry Ice Cream

My friend Jacob recently wrote on my Facebook wall: "Less fruit, more chocolate."  He isn't so fond of fruit, and has a particular hate of apples.  I know -- I don't understand him, and I don't think I want to.  Sorry, Jacob, but it's summer!  Crops are ripening, farmers markets are bustling, and all that fruit looks and smells good.

I'm not even big on berry ice creams.  Pure chocolate is my favorite, or vanilla flavored with chocolate.  But this one was wonderfully creamy, and had that great blackberry taste without the pucker you can get from eating the fruit plain.  It even won over Joe, who prefers coffee or peanut butter cup ice creams.  Maybe you could drizzle some fudge sauce on top, Jacob?

This post was submitted to Sweets for a Saturday.

Vanilla Bean-Pineapple Tart

The smells of pineapple, vanilla, and rum flooding my house when I baked this tart made me think of umbrella drinks and tropical vacations.   These ingredients are topped off by a beautiful, intricate lattice crust.  It may look complicated, but the only difficult part of this recipe was keeping the dough cold during the summer heat.  It kept getting melty and sticking to my board and tearing, and it took a few return trips to the fridge and a bunch of patience I was running out of.

But the smell of pineapple and rum instantly restored my mood.  And in the end the crust looked great and it's always fun to weave a lattice.  The filling tasted like the top of an upside-down pineapple cake (or the bottom, if you haven't up-ended it yet).

Half your dough is used for the tart bottom, but the other half is cut into strips for your lattice top.  The lattice is woven on parchment paper (or waxed paper, in this case), frozen until ready to use, and then carefully slid on top of the tart.

Fresh pineapple is simmered with rum, sugars, and vanilla bean.  The cooked and cooled chunks are added to the tart shell.  This tart is in the very sweet category, so next time I would personally halve the sugars.  If you enjoy sugar rush, follow the recipe.

The taste of rum is faint in the final product, if that's a concern of yours.  I'm not sure if this is because I used whatever rum was in the house instead of the dark rum that was called for, or if the alcohol simply cooked off.

The tart is then chilled with the lattice, which is brushed with egg wash before going in the oven.

And since I made this recipe in a square pan, having no rectangular tart pan, there was some filling and dough left over for a mini.  Isn't it cute?

This post was submitted to Sweets for a Saturday.

Chocolate Cream Pie

This Chocolate Cream Pie has the best of all worlds: a chocolate graham cracker crumb crust is filled with a rich chocolate pudding, and topped off with a vanilla whipped cream and chocolate curls.  While this crust was easy to make, I wouldn't fault anyone for buying those premade crusts in the heat of summer to make a no-bake version.  And for the gluten-free among us, simply swap in gluten-free chocolate wafers to enjoy this dessert.

The crust is nicely sandy and a bit crunchy, the pudding is one of the best I've ever had, and who doesn't like whipped cream?  You can simply spread on the cream, or pipe it in pretty stars like I did here for a fancier look.  I used Callebaut chocolate for the pudding once, and Ghirardelli another time.  You might be tempted to add more sugar if you taste the pudding when it's done and still hot, but keep in mind that puddings always taste sweeter after they chill.  But I decreased the confectioners' sugar in the whipped cream to a quarter-cup because I didn't feel it needed a half-cup.  And I was very, very pleased with all the results.

I've submitted this to Lisa's Sweets for a Saturday.

Crispy Fried Chicken

You may recall my first post on Fried Chicken ages ago (three years!!), and it was a good recipe.  But I recently saw another on TV that intrigued me: the usual chicken coating of flour was blended with cornmeal and double-dredged to intensify the crunch factor, and would still be crispy later in the day if you wanted to take it to a picnic.

I skipped most of the brining instructions, and simplified it to an hour's soak of cold water with some salt.  Still came out very juicy.  I can vouch for the extra crunchy/crispy factor, but I don't know about hours later; we ate them right away, and the next day out of the fridge they were no longer crunchy but crisped up again in the toaster oven.  I think I've got a new favorite recipe, or maybe just for the next three years.

Roasted Corn Salad

I could have attacked this whole dish with a spoon, it was that good.  Fresh corn and some poblano get slightly smoky under the broiler, and then mingle with the fresh flavors of tomato, scallion, and basil.  My friend Dorothy asked for the recipe, and I said, "What recipe?  I threw it together."  But it was easy enough that I roughly remembered everything.    

Fans of cilantro can substitute that herb for the basil.  Feel free to use more poblano if you like it spicy, or substitute a hotter pepper.  I meant to use lime, but after sampling a little salad with some juice I felt the lime overpowered the other flavors.  Throw in other vegetables that you like, and make it your own -- just keep tasting and re-seasoning.  For my personal tastes, it was the perfect summer salad.

Bittman's Bulgogi (Korean Barbeque)

One of my fondest childhood memories is my parents taking us to eat Korean barbeque.  We'd make the trek from Brooklyn to Flushing, in Queens.  I would arrive home with my jacket smelling like the grilled beef, and it was Carnivore Nirvana.  When I moved to the Boston area, my sister would eagerly make the treks with me to Koreana in Cambridge.  The waitresses would bring us nearly a dozen side dishes, and we would cook the meat on the tabletop grills.  The beef would be flavorful and juicy, but just slightly crisp and charred at the edges.

When I saw Mark Bittman's Backyard Bulgogi article, I got excited.  Sure, he's not Korean, but the man can cook, can't he?  I liked how simple the recipe was, but it sure didn't look like the time my summer term college suitemate from South Korea made bulgogi (I remember a lot more soy sauce, and sliced white onions).  The verdict: It didn't taste quite like bulgogi, but it was still pretty damn good.  You really can't go wrong with marinating beef in a paste of soy sauce, sesame oil, garlic, and scallions.  The only real change I made was to broil the beef, since the last time I used my gas grill it caught on fire -- no, not the way it's supposed to.  But the broiler did the trick, and it was close to Carnivore Nirvana.