Anecdotal Gingerbread Post

There are two types of winter days.

Snowflake Gingerbread

1) Outside, the sky is a cold blue, stenciled twig-like from the branches of tall trees. The curbs are painted a swirling mixture of frozen water and mud. And you, in your light wash denim jeans, hooded zipped jacket, and thermal socks, you swear you have frozen. That blood has stopped dancing through your body. That your hands are shaking and your palm has tinted purple-pink and your fingers are cracking and oh my god my palm is now blotched  purple, does this affect my lifeline?

2) Outside, the sky is a cold blue, stenciled twig-like from the branches of tall trees. Hey, you think, Aunt Sally would really love a stenciled tree ornament. You remind yourself to print out a 40% off coupon from Google before you hit up Michael's. The curbs are painted a swirling mixture of frozen water and mud so gorgeous that you wonder if Picasso works posthumous magic on suburban driveway curbs. Your right hand is wound around a mug- steaming earl grey wafts to your red nose. In your left hand, you hold what December gods consider holy.
You hold happiness; beauty; the 8th Wonder of the World.
A gingerbread cookie.

You didn't think I'd let winter float by without blogging about gingerbread cookies, did you?

Actually, in all honesty, I don't really have many holiday memories that involve good old fashioned gingerbread cookies. Sure I've had the occasional one or two at elementary school class parties but I'd always been more in awe of gingerbread houses rather than the actual gingerbread men. And it's nothing against the little cookie. Nothing at all. No trace of gingerbread cookie hater in my soul. (That story about the little gingerbread boy who runs off used to be one of my favorite books! Those were some pretty illustrations.)

I do have one memory that I can clearly remember. About eight Christmases ago, my sisters and I went to go see Christmas with the Cranks. That feel good holiday movie with Jaimie Lee Curtis. And I remember running through the cold blacktop parking lot and swinging the door of the movie theatre open. I was blinded by holiday lights and shiny ornaments and glossy movie posters. We bought our tickets and made our way to the theater. The floor was littered with yellow popcorn, chewed soda straws, and crumpled candy bags. How festive, I thought, They decorated for the holidays. 

As I jumped onto my seat and assured my older sister that No, I do not need a booster seat. I can see the screen perfectly if I tilt my head up and elongate my spine. And yes, it's fine that a 6 foot 7 man just sat down in seat in front of mine. And yes, I can still see. Granted it's just the fuzzy corners of the screen and half of the exit sign- 

"Oh, I almost forgot. Merry Christmas." My sister interrupted me and reached into her purse and pulled out a bag of gingerbread cookies. 

Ta-da.

That was my gingerbread cookie memory. (Is it cheating if the cookies were store bought?) I figured a gingerbread post sort of needs a memory to go with it. Blogging school isn't a thing but if it was, I'm sure a banner that says GINGERBREAD POSTS AND ANECDOTES ARE CLOSE (FRIENDS) would hang around campus.

Ok, now let's talk about this cookie.

This gingerbread cookie is beautiful and aromatic. The middle is light and chewy and the edges are toasted and crisp. The making of the dough is simple and therapeutic. Nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, ginger. Mmmmm. It chills in the fridge before it's rolled out like a red carpet. (Cheesy? Maybe. But seriously. Golden Globe worthy dough.) A dark rich brown, thanks to the molasses, is the base for the cookie cutters. Note: You can use any cookie cutter, not just gingerbread man. I used a snowflake (pictured) and a Christmas tree (not pictured).

The ratio of spicy to sweet is well-balanced, so it will be a sure hit amongst friends who don't necessarily like the heavy-spice-riddled traditional ginger cookies.

These make perfect holiday treats. Wrap 'em up and give them to friends or plate them and leave them by the fireplace. Santa will appreciate it. :)

Gingerbread Cookie Recipe  (From Joy of Baking)

http://www.joyofbaking.com/GingerbreadMen.html

Notes: Didn't fridge the cut out dough and the cookies still turned out fine. However, I did refrigerate the actual dough before I rolled it out. That is a must.

Happy baking and Happy Holidays! :)

The Red-White Razzle-Dazzle of Peppermint Bark

'Tis the season for festive touches.

Like stringing multi-colored lights around porches, donning itchy sweaters emblazoned with sparkling ornaments, or sprinkling crushed candy canes on chocolate.

'Tis the season for peppermint bark.

When the holidays come around, my favorite thing at Target isn't in Aisle 7 or Aisle 24. It's not Rudolph wrapping paper or inexpensive sets of a gazillion nail polishes. My favorite thing is by the cash registers, next to the latest issues of Glamour, Rachel Ray, and Star.

It's the Ghiradelli dark chocolate peppermint bark.

Peppermint bark is glorious and minty and December-y and January and February.

Heck, peppermint bark could be an all-year treat if you ask me.

The dark chocolate base layer is mouth-watering and there's a bittersweet silkiness to it. The white chocolate, which has been infused with peppermint extract, is the perfect blanket for the dark chocolate. And the crushed candy cane topping is refreshing and crunchy and cheerful.

This is chocolate at its finest.

It tastes like it came out of the kitchen of a gourmet chocolatier's house.

It looks like the star of a New York City bakery's window display. I can totally picture cameras panning out, the peppermint bark snuggled up in a diamond-encrusted silver tin, as a slim young brunette dressed in a floor-length black dress, a pearl necklace, and sunglasses, sips her coffee and stares longingly at the chocolate concoction. As she makes her way down an empty 5th Avenue, white lettering appears onscreen. Breakfast at Ghiradelli's. 

This peppermint bark totally deserves a silver screen adaptation or at least an ABC Christmas movie starring Melissa Joan Hart.

Anyhoo, this peppermint bark is cheerful and festive and just all around fun! It's a seasonal treat and I guarantee your happiness will increase when munching on a piece. Also, I think this bark has healing powers because I loathe white chocolate, I absolutely cannot stand it, except in peppermint bark. And a lot of my friends don't really like dark chocolate but love it in the bark.

It's easy to make. It's just melting chocolate and crushing candy canes. It also makes the perfect  hostess gift. Put some pieces in a tin, slip on your heels or tie your bow tie, and your ready for the holidays!

A note on the brand of chocolate: Tollhouse baking chocolate chips works best for me. I've tried a lot of other brands, and actually, Ghiradelli's chocolate chips were the worst. Believe me, I say that with a heavy heart because I adore Ghiradelli, but their chocolate chips just do not melt right. And I've done quite the bit of Google research and have found a lot of other people had this same problem.

Peppermint Bark Recipe (adapted from Food.com)

Ingredients:
- 12 oz. dark chocolate chips (see italicized note above about brands)
- 16 oz. white chocolate chips (see italicized note above about brands)
-3/4 teaspoon peppermint extract
-1/2 cup crushed candy cane

Directions:
-Preheat oven to 250 degrees.
-Line a 9x13 dish with aluminum foil, letting foil overhang sides for easy lift-up later. Spray foil with baking spray. 
-Pour an even layer of dark chocolate chips into the pan, then put in the oven for about 5 minutes. Just so it's almost melted. It should still be in its chocolate chip shape.
-When removed from oven, use a spatula butter knife to spread the melted chocolate evenly around pan. Chill for 40 minutes.

-After it's chilled, take it out of the fridge and let rest on counter top. Letting the dark chocolate layer's temperature drops ensures that the white chocolate layer will stick to it. 
-Melt white chocolate in a bowl over a saucepan of boiling water (make sure the bottom of the bowl doesn't touch water). When it's almost melted, remove from heat and stir in peppermint extract. Let it cool a bit before spreading over the dark chocolate (so the dark chocolate doesn't melt). Then sprinkle with crushed candy canes. Chill for at least 2 hours.

-Break apart with hands. (Found this easier than knives).
-Store in an airtight container in the fridge.

Happy baking! :)

Zaban: A Persian Pastry

There's a Queen Elizabeth quality to Persian pastries: royal and all-mighty, yet modest and grandmotherly like.

Grandmotherly like in the sense of "comfort-care-warmth-joy."

Not grandmotherly like in the sense of "I-just-knit-47-wool-socks-and-cooked-okra-stew-because-yesterday-you-coughed-a-couple-times-and-I'm-afraid-you-could-be-getting-pneumonia."

Persian pastries are elegant without even trying. Garlands of raspberry jam drape over the chocolate-dipped end of heart-shaped shortbreads; pistachio sprinkled orbs of apricot preserves fit snug in the makeshift well of butter cookies. For the most part, Persian pastries are petite, a little smaller than your palm, and it always seems as if they spent countless hours in a hair-and-makeup chair, getting dolled up by a patisserie chef.

But there's a secret and I'm going to let you in on it.

Lean in close.

Real close.

Actually, not that close because you're reading this on a computer screen and I wouldn't want you to strain your eyesight. (Always strive for 20/20, people. Always strive for 20/20).

The secret is….ahem….Persian pastries are actually some of the simplest desserts to make.

Gasp.

Shock.

The crowd is aghast over this stunning revelation. Heads swivel, jaws drop. Hurried murmurs sound as people huddle together, trying to make sense of the chaos. A lone man in a tattered blue shawl lifts his face slowly towards the sky and whispers, "Is this true? Is this really true?"

Yes, man in tattered blue shawl, this is really true.

Consider the Persian pastry myth debunked. (Let's pretend there was a myth).

One of my favorite pastries, Zaban, has only 3 ingredients and has a 5 minute prep time.

Jaw drop, right?

Zaban is a puff pastry brushed with honey both before it goes into the oven and after it comes out.

In Farsi, Zaban means tongue. But rest assured, the title reflects nothing on the ingredients of the dessert. It is simply called Zaban because of it's long rectangular or oval shape, thus giving it the appearance of a tongue.

It's delicate and flaky and honey-sweet and buttery and crisp and I feel like a little kid whenever I bite into one.

 Zaban Recipe

Ingredients:
-1 package puff pastry 
-3 tbspn honey
-2 tbspn water
-sugar for sprinkling

Directions:
-Take out your puff pastry from the freezer and let it thaw out, around 30-40 minutes.
-Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
-Once thawed, unfold/roll out the puff pastry on a work surface. Make sure the longer edge of the dough is horizontal.
-In a small bowl, combine the honey and water and mix until thoroughly combined. (At the beginning, it may seem as if the honey and water are never going to come together, but they do! Happy mixing!)
-Brush the honey mixture over the dough.
- Cut the dough using a pizza cutter or a sharp knife. (If you're using a knife, dip it in flour beforehand). Divide into 3 equal sections. Then, cut each section in half vertically. Cut each half horizontally in thirds.
-Arrange the rectangles of puff pastry on your baking sheet.
-Go back and make a slit in the middle of each pastry.
-Sprinkle pastries with sugar.
-Bake at 400 degrees for 7-10 minutes (until doubled in size).
-Then reduce heat to 350 degrees and continue baking for 18-23 minutes (until lightly golden browned).

-Once removed from oven, brush with more of honey mixture. (Brush a lot of the honey mixture on. If you find you run out, mix together more honey and water because the essence of this dessert is the ooey-gooey honey.)
-Enjoy once cooled! :)

If the recipe seems confusing, it's just the cutting part. Honestly, you can cut it into whatever shape your little heart desires. Totally simple and elegant.

Thanks for reading and happy baking! :)

Orange Sugar-Dark Chocolate Pound Cake: For Winter Nights and Baker's Withdrawal

Wintry clouds kiss small towns; 
Sprinkles of glitter catch on evergreen trees. 

 

It's December.

The coats are longer, the mornings are colder, and the desserts are richer.

This fall, I didn't get much chance to whirl around my kitchen, measure spoonfuls of vanilla extract, and sift flour-sugar mixtures, so extravagant autumn desserts with crisp apples, warm cinnamon or
sweet pumpkin unfortunately never found their ways from recipe stacks to oven racks. And after weeks of not baking, I found myself daydreaming about creaming together butter and sugar or crumbling streusel topping for a crumb cake. I was experiencing baker's withdrawal. 

So when I found myself with free time and an open kitchen, the first thing I did was run to the pantry and take out flour, sugar, eggs, and vanilla. The staples. I wanted to bake something simple, yet sophisticated. Something I was sure would turn out golden and beautiful and rich. Something called a pound cake.

Pound cakes are fancy (I'll definitely argue that) but I wanted this to be fancier. And nothing is fancier than citrus dark chocolate, especially on smoky winter nights.

When I was younger, my sister and I would stand on our tiptoes and rest our chins on the kitchen counter. My grandmother stood behind the counter, her weathered hands reaching into supermarket plastic bags. She'd hand over oranges and tangerines, always presenting them as if they were from an orchard in heaven, not the produce section of a Persian market. My sister and I would dash to the sofa (because PBS commercial breaks were always so short) and peel the orbs with tender care. And when the peels curled off, a spray of citrus sparkled the air, a firework opening for the edible wedges. As I sat criss-cross applesauce on that blue corduroy couch in that tiny apartment, I remember thinking that my grandmother was right. That oranges, at least the ones we had, were other worldly.

So it figures that a kiss of sweet orange is a marvelous pound cake flavor. Orange zest is scrubbed into the sugar and it adds a delicate citrus note to the cake. I added a teaspoon of orange extract into the batter as well (not noted in the original recipe). The extract gives the thick cake a beautiful scent.

This golden cracked-top pound cake is fluffy and soft because of cream cheese is creamed with the butter. Also, this cake doesn't have an eggy smell (which actually is a big issue for a lot of pound cake recipes because pound cake uses around 4 eggs).

Enjoy with a cup of tea or coffee or hot beverage of choice.

So for those days when you need the company of flour, butter and sugar, or for when you want a piece of heaven on a cake plate: this is the perfect recipe.

Also: a quick note on my blog: the recipes I've posted here have been variations of other recipes but starting next post, I'll be posting my recipes and original culinary creations.

Recipe link: http://joythebaker.com/2012/03/chocolate-orange-cream-cheese-pound-cake/
         {Add 1/2 teaspoon of orange extract when you add the vanilla extract. Bake time took me about     90 min. I covered the loaf with aluminum foil from 45 min to 75 min. Not entirely sure why it took my oven so long…}

Thanks for reading. :)