Double Taza Stout and Stracciatella Ice Cream Con Panna and Good Humans

Good humans are among us.  I recently started dating one.

For one, he always puts the half and half away after making coffee in the morning.  This may seem simple.  But you might want to think twice about a person willing to let your milk spoil.

He was also able to provide three concrete reasons for getting a Christmas tree this year.  The smell.  The lights.  And as a meaningful adjunct to holiday cookies.

He counts his afternoon walk to Flour Bakery, for a coffee and chocolate chip cookie, as activity points.

He is concerned about taking too many dinner helpings for fear there won’t be lunch leftovers.

And though he doesn’t play fast and loose with compliments, they are really something when he dishes them out.

They catch you off-guard. Like claiming you look gorgeous after having just brushed your teeth.  Or calling you a genius for making ice cream. 

You’ll find instructions for such praise-inducing ice cream below. A version of this one.  But featuring local stout aged on cacao nibs from the Taza chocolate factory in Somerville, Massachusetts.  Then more of the same chocolate is finely shaved with a knife and added in shards the Italians call stracciatella, meaning little tears or shreds.

Stracciatella is often made by pouring a thin stream of chocolate into cold, churning ice cream and served con panna, or with whipped cream, at your request.  And reminds me of the gelato I had in Rome over a decade ago.  So I borrowed on this memory, adding in some espresso for good measure.  The bitterness, balanced by dark beer and set upright by chocolate, somehow makes the final product even greater than its parts.

And I really can’t take credit for all of that.  The praise belongs mostly to the instruction of Jeni Britton Bauer of Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams.  And to the fine people at Taza chocolate and Night Shift Brewing who did the heavy lifting, lending talent and honoring fine ingredients. 

But that’s the thing about cooking. The one in front of the stove gathers the spoils. You can use a blueprint belonging to someone else, selfishly add some favorite flavors, and a memory or two from your past, and suddenly you’re the genius.  The good humans who have lent part of themselves in the way of instruction, or cacao, or beer make it all possible though.

In many ways, this all makes very little sense.  And, yet, perhaps the best way to reconcile it is to pillage yet another idea. A witticism from a storyteller artist and fellow human.

“There are things you do because they feel right and they may make no sense and they may make no money and it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other and to eat other’s cooking and say it was good.” –Brian Andreas

To share, and to care, and to eat chocolate may very well be the answer.  Merry Christmas.

Double Taza Stout and Stracciatella Espresso Ice Cream Con Panna

Adapted from Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams at Home

Ingredients

2 cups whole milk, divided

1½ tbsp cornstarch

1½ ounces cream cheese, softened

1¼ cup heavy cream

2/3 cup dark muscovado sugar

2 tbsp brown rice syrup

pinch of salt

2 tbsp instant espresso

80 grams (just shy of 3 ounces) dark chocolate (i.e. Taza), cut into small shards

½ cup chocolate stout (i.e. Night Shift Brewing Taza Stout)

Optional: ¾ cup heavy cream (for a whipped cream topping)

Instructions

In a small bowl, mix 2 tbsp of the whole milk with the cornstarch.  In a separate medium bowl, whisk the cream cheese until smooth. 

In a medium saucepan, combine the remaining milk, heavy cream, sugar, brown rice syrup, and salt on medium-high heat, stirring occasionally until the mixture boils.  When it reaches a slow rolling boil, continue to stir occasionally for 4 minutes more.

Remove pan from the heat and stir in the instant espresso until it dissolves.  Meanwhile, prepare a large bowl with ice and a little water and put a smaller bowl inside the larger bowl with ice.

Return the infused espresso milk back on medium-high heat; gradually add in the cornstarch mixture and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally until it thickens (this will take a few minutes).  Remove from heat and slowly whisk some of the hot liquid into the cream cheese until smooth.  Add the cream cheese mixture to the saucepan with the remaining liquid; add stout; whisk to combine.

Pour into the prepared bowl on ice.  Let cool for about 30 minutes and then refrigerate until fully cooled (or overnight).

When ready, churn the mixture in an ice cream machine for 20 to 25 minutes, or until it gets thick and creamy and pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  At the very end of the churning, add in the chocolate shards (we are technically cheating here, deviating from stracciatella form).  Pack the ice cream in an airtight container.  Cover with parchment paper cut to fit the container and freeze for at least 4 hours.

If desired, before serving whip ¾ cup heavy cream and top ice cream.

Makes about 1 quart.

Notes:

-Chocolate covered cacao nibs would likely be great here too for added texture, but I'd encourage the chocolate shards regardless, they melt ably in the mouth.

-The brown rice syrup here is a stand-in for corn syrup, which can be used in a pinch. As can dark brown sugar in place of the muscovado.

Striped Italian Cookies, This is Christmas

I’d like to make a confession.  I did not buy a Christmas tree this year.  There.  I said it.

Since I moved to Boston nearly a decade ago, I’ve only missed this one other time.  And it was because I was in a deep, dark drift in a year-long residency on my way to becoming a registered dietitian.  At the time, I was pretty much living in a hospital basement.  Never seeing daylight.  And spending time alongside instant read thermometers, a temperamental chef, and very large kitchen kettles.

Don’t be fooled. This was not romantic.

This year, I just feel tired.  Like an it feels hard to hold my bones up kind of tired.  So I decided to take a one-year evergreen hiatus.  It feels good to type this.

This is not to say I’ve gone Grinchy on you.  I was still able to enjoy the annual Christmas cookie conclave (years one and two here).  The event is my gustatory equivalent of caroling, except that it involves breaking champagne flutes, eating raw cookie dough, and Harry Connick Jr.

My friend, Justin, went so far as to claim this year “the year of the nut.”  And there were four of them.  Baking a clatter of non-traditional, very un-heteronormative Christmas cookies. Nary a gingerbread man in sight.

We baked molasses cookies.  Dark chocolate bark with pistachios, rose petals, and a smidge too much sea salt.  Chocolate shortbreads studded with (more) pistachios. 

Peanut butter kisses made with bourbon—instead of milk—because my friend Theresa didn’t have milk.  (Now bourbon, bourbon she had in spades.) Chai almond wedding cookies. 

Plus those Italian rainbow cookies made with almond paste, but colored pink and blue (which turned a grayish purple in the oven).  Because I am clinging to Christmas postmodernism in light of my tree laziness this year.

Let’s talk about these rainbow numbers (which I am rebranding as “striped” here and now). They are the kind of cookie that’s—quite frankly—a huge pain in the ass to make.  They require three square baking pans (or “pans” fashioned out of foil, if you don’t fully read through the recipe instructions).  And the washing of ample bowls.

But they get better and better the longer they sit.  Which, in my book, is a huge win.  They also come in thick, rich, and gloriously chewy.  And they’re slicked with the slightly bitter, gutsy chocolate from local hero, Taza. 

The recipe is from one of my most favorite restaurants, Torrisi Italian Specialties.  These boys do know their way around an Italian specialty or two.

The cookies are also easily tinted to your whims.  Yes, Christmas is Wednesday.  But color the stripes whatever shade you damn well please. 

Striped Italian Cookies

bon appétit via Torrisi Italian Specialties

Ingredients:

2 cups unsalted butter, softened and cubed (plus more for buttering the pan)

6 eggs, separated

1-1/3 cups sugar, divided

12 ounces almond paste, very roughly chopped

½ tsp kosher salt

2¾ cups plus 1 tbsp flour, sifted

2 colors of food coloring

¾ cups marmalade

4 to 5 ounces dark chocolate (preferably Taza chocolate Mexican disks, if available)

Instructions:

Set the oven to 350 degrees.  Butter generously and line three 13 x 9 x 2 baking pans with foil, leaving overhang.  (Don’t have three same-sized pans?  The batter is pretty thick and you can fashion “baking pans” out of foil.) 

In the bowl of a stand mixer, add the egg whites and whisk until soft peaks form.  Slowly add 1/3 cup of sugar and whisk until stiff peaks form; transfer to a medium bowl, cover, and chill until needed.

In the bowl of a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, beat the almond paste and remaining 1 cup sugar on medium low until well incorporated (this will take a few minutes); increase the speed slightly and gradually add the 2 cups butter; beat until fluffy.  On medium low, beat in egg yolks, salt, and then the flour a third at a time. Fold in the egg whites in two additions.

Divide the batter into equal quantities among three bowls.  Color two of the mixtures using food coloring (one color per bowl; you’ll need to use at least a tsp of coloring for each). Leave the third bowl plain.  Spread each batter into its own prepared pan; smooth the tops and bake, rotating the pans half way through, until just set (about 10 to 15 minutes).  Let cool in pans.

When ready to assemble, warm the marmalade so that it easily spreads.  (If there’s a lot of thick orange peel chunks, you’ll want to strain them, but I did not need to do this with the brand I used.) On the cake layer that you will eventually want on top, spread half of the marmalade with a pastry brush.  Grabbing the sides of the foil, lift the layer that you want in the middle of the cookie, invert it, and place it on top of the layer brushed with marmalade (making sure to line up the sides as best as you can.)  Gently peel off the foil and then cover the middle layer with the remaining marmalade.  Grabbing the sides of the foil of the third layer, gently lift it out of the pan, invert it, and place over the middle layer.

Cover the top completely with foil, top with a baking pan of similar size, and place a few canned goods in the pan to compress the layers. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours (or up to 1 day). 

When ready to finish, remove the cans and pan and foil, and invert the cake onto a piece of parchment paper.  Gently warm the chocolate.  Spread half of the just melted chocolate on the top layer of the cake.  Place in the freezer for 10 minutes. 

Cover the chocolate layer with parchment paper and flip the cake; uncover and glaze with remaining chocolate (rewarm it slightly if the chocolate has started to thicken).  Freeze for 10 more minutes.  Then trim the edges so they are even and cut into 1½ inch squares.  Store in an airtight container.

Makes roughly 50 cookies

Notes:

-I provided a range for the chocolate because we needed just a little bit more to fully cover the cake.  I wasn’t exact with the pan sizing though.

-I didn’t use a double boiler for the chocolate.  I just warmed it in a saucepan on low and then let the remaining bits of chocolate melt off the heat.  Feel free to make your life a little easier with this one.

-The plate shown features many of the aforementioned cookies.  I couldn’t be trusted with them at home any longer, as my note indicates.

A Very {Merry} Ginger Loaf Cake

It’s December.  The gingerbread lattes are out.  The Christmas songs are here having been playing since Veterans Day. 

I don’t really need to convince you that it’s time to eat a cake made of ginger, now do I?  But, if you insist, how about this: this cake is fit for breakfast.  In fact, it excels at it.

It’s really a cross between a bread and a cake.  It’s what I might refer to as a “loaf cake.” (And I shall from here on out.)  Rose Bakery, on Rue des Martyrs in Paris, labels it as simply “ginger cake.”  Which is charming, but it’s really so much more than that.

The very best part of this cake is the sheer amount of ginger it calls for.  It requests an obscene amount.  An amount that would normally make you call into question certain things.  But it’s Christmas.  Tis the season to let things slide.

And this is an important point to stress here.  Christmas context is everything.

Take gingerbread.  Around this time of year it becomes anthropomorphized and weirdly gendered.  I know it’s confusing, Mr. Gingerbread.  We neglect your man parts and give you red and white buttons and bow ties made of icing.  And then after all that we eat you.  Sorry for the mixed signals.

And we look fondly on Christmas carols that—upon closer inspection—seem to hint at date rape. You see, in any other circumstance, “no cabs to be had out there” is not the proper response when a lady friend asks you, “say, what’s in this drink?” Yes, baby, it is cold outside.  But we can read between the lines, Dean.  Desperate times call for desperate measures.  Happy holidays!

Ah the spirit of Christmas.  

What I really mean to say is that in such company a gingery loaf cake doesn’t seem odd or inappropriate or excessive in any way.  It really, truly is a lovely little cake. 

The extra spice seems just right.  It feels homey.  Not at all overpowering.  And should you pass on its invitation as a breakfast cake, it makes a great snacking cake too.  One to enjoy all year through.

But for now, go on, bake yourself a very merry ginger loaf cake.  It's a little piece of Christmas.  And all the crazy %#@* it brings.

A Very Ginger Loaf Cake

Adapted from Breakfast, Lunch, Tea: The Many Meals of Rose Bakery

Ingredients:

1/3 cup unsalted butter, softened (plus extra for greasing)

¾ cup all-purpose flour

scant 2/3 cup whole wheat flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp ground cinnamon

¼ tsp ground coriander

¼ tsp nutmeg

pinch of cayenne pepper

2 tbsp ground ginger

¼ tsp kosher salt

1/3 cup muscovado sugar

2 tbsp golden syrup (or honey)

2 tbsp freshly grated ginger

2 tbsp molasses

¾ tsp baking soda, divided

2 eggs, beaten

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Butter a 10-inch loaf tin and line the base and sides with parchment paper.  In a medium bowl, sift the flours, baking powder, spices, and salt together.  In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat together the butter, sugar, syrup (or honey) and fresh ginger until light.

In a small bowl, mix together the molasses and ½ tsp baking soda and then mix this into the butter mixture.  Boil ¾ cup water and add in the ¼ remaining tsp baking soda; whisk to combine and then pour this into the butter mixture on low speed; add in the flour mixture until just combined.  Stir in the eggs until fully incorporated.

Pour the mixture into your prepared tin and bake for about 35 minutes or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean.  Cool the cake before removing it from the tin.

Makes 1 loaf cake

Notes:

-I actually used whole wheat white flour because I had some.  I'm sure that regular whole wheat flour would be marvelous here.

-I found golden syrup at Whole Foods.

-What's that?  Yes, spices are wonderful for you, too.  Check out this blog post where I wrote about such important matters.

Gingerbread with Espresso Glaze ... and Elves

Pull up a chair, grab a hot chocolate or some warm mulled wine, and settle in for a moment.  Let me tell you a little Christmas story.  It’s about a girl who dreams of making gingerbread and fruitcake every year in December.

She envisions candying citrus peels and pickling cherries in maraschino liqueur in her tiny kitchen for the fruitcake.  She dreams of eating hunks of gingerbread with bits of spicy sugared ginger for breakfast and sipping peppermint tea, while beautifully wrapped gifts lay under her tree.  Except, she can never get her act together in time. 

This December, things would be different.  

She enlists the help of some elves—otherwise known as Justin and David—who have hearts of gold.  David also has a heart that is slightly blackened and a wee bit cynical.  Justin’s heart commonly includes the characteristics of an eighty year old grandfather and it would bleed cloves and molasses if it could.  She loves this about them.  She finds these traits beyond endearing.

And so she is happily lured into an eight hour Christmas baking project.  The sweets list includes peanut brittle; fancy glass-bottomed walnut polvorones; gingerbread (finally); and sugar cookies laced heavy-handedly with peppermint icing reminiscent of Dr. McGillicuddy’s mentholmint schnapps.  (You can probably guess which elderly elf was behind the menthol.)

Sinatra’s “Christmas Waltz” plays nearly every hour as the delicate dance of Christmas cookie madness carries on.  The day is filled with joyful laughter, some Christmas traditions of yore made anew again, and a frosting of good old-fashioned holiday bitterness.  And, oh yes, there is also gingerbread.

The gingerbread is dark and laced with cloves, cinnamon, and ginger.  It’s dense and assertive in its flavors.  It’s everything a good gingerbread should be.  It also includes a deep espresso icing as a wonderful compliment: for the day of Christmas baking, as well as for the gingerbread itself.  This icing is not to be left off.  Trust the elves on this one.  

So while there is no fruitcake this year, our little friend is not worried.  There is always next year.  Right now there is the reminder of a month filled with really wonderful Christmas memories.  And if this happens to involve some gingerbread, well then, that’s just icing.  Wishing you and yours the same thing too.

Gingerbread with Espresso Glaze

Adapted from Joanne Chang's Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston's Flour Bakery + Cafe

Ingredients:

For the cake

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature

3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar

3 tbsp freshly grated ginger

2 eggs

3.5 cups flour

1 tbsp baking powder

1/2 tsp kosher salt

2 tsp ground ginger

1 tsp freshly ground grains of paradise (or black pepper)

1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp ground cloves (freshly ground, if possible)

1.5 cups unsulfured molasses

1 cup boiling water

1 tsp baking soda

For the espresso glaze

1 cup confectioners' sugar

2-3 tbsp espresso 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Butter and flour a 9 x 13 baking dish (or alternatively some smaller dishes, such as brioche tins, as pictured). Using a stand mixer with a paddle attachment, cream butter and brown sugar together until light and fluffy (about 2 minutes).  Meanwhile, in a small bowl, whisk together grated ginger and eggs.  On low speed, slowly add the egg mixture to the creamed butter mixture until combined.  Scrape the sides of the bowl and beat again to ensure the mixture is fully blended.

In a medium bowl, sift flour, baking powder, salt, ground ginger, grains of paradise (or pepper), cinnamon, and cloves.  In another medium bowl, mix molasses, boiling water, and baking soda together.  (The mixture will foam up quite severely.)  

On the mixer's lowest speed, add about 1/3 of the flour mixture to the creamed butter mixture and mix; add in half of the molasses mixture until well combined (scraping down the sides as necessary) and then add in half of the remaining flour mixture until combined.  Add the rest of the molasses mixture, mix well, and then add the remaining flour and mix until combined (about a minute or so), stopping to scrape the bottom and sides of the bowl to ensure everything is well combined. (Lots of combining going on.)

Bake for 50-60 minutes (or less if you are using individual tins: ours took about 40 minutes).  Meanwhile, make the espresso if you do not have any on hand.  The cake is done when it spring back or a cake tester comes out clean.  Let cool on wire racks.  

Whisk the confectioners' sugar and espresso together until it is smooth and pourable.  While the cake is still warm, pour glaze over the top and let sit for one hour before serving.

Makes one 9 x 13 cake (or a number of smaller cakes: hard to say when you start snacking)

Notes:

-If you don't have access to espresso, you can brew double strength coffee as a substitute.

-The cake can be stored airtight at room temperature for up to three days.  I've stashed my leftovers, frosted and all, in the freezer and they've still been quite good.

-Grains of paradise are a little bit more floral than black pepper.  I had some around and thought, what the heck, it will be a nice change of pace.  Don't make a special trip for the grains.

-This is another instance where Ms. Chang is queen.  Her recipes still have yet to do anything but please.  I think her cookbook has been the best investment I've made all year.  (Santa, not to be too bossy, but if you are in need of last minute gifts for others: take note.)