Champagne Ice Cream

Please ignore the Prom 2008. It was the only champagne glass we could find...shameful, we know. Despite being served in such a hideous receptacle, this ice cream wowed us with its deliciousness. (You know how to tell if something is really yummy? You'll eat it no matter what it looks like or what it's sitting in - it's just that good. Unless it's sitting in...ah, you get the picture)

Champagne ice cream, we discovered to our delight, tastes like fermented sweet rice! Light and bright, not quite as heavy or bossy as bourbon (not to bash on bourbon, it's delicious too, just not in the same way). Here are some ideas for how to eat champagne ice cream:

1. Straight out of the container. Get a long skinny spoon and scoop out little shards of ice cream directly from the container.
2. Out of a tiny wine glass. Scoop a nice round ball of ice cream and plop it into your glass. Quickly stuff the rest of the ice cream back into the freezer so you aren't tempted to get seconds. Sit down in a quiet place with a tiny spoon and savor as slowly as possible.
3. In a champagne glass with champagne poured over. Like a root beer float, except pink.

Caramelized White Chocolate Creme Fraiche Ice Cream

Do you like white chocolate? Doesn't it taste like milk, malted milk, vanilla, sugar, butter, peace, joy, and happiness all blended together? Now think about caramel. Roasty, buttery, slightly bitter, brown sugar and honey notes, just plain delicious. Yes. You know where this is going. What's the third thing I'm going to ask you to think of? Did I hear someone say ice cream? Ah, genius. But not just any old ice cream - we're talking creme fraiche ice cream. Ice cream with a slight tang, a rich buttery milky flavor. This ice cream is just that and more. The white chocolate keeps the texture velvety, and each bite is exquisite. The ice cream has a little resistance, not melting instantly but slowly pulling at your tastebuds in the way that chewy caramel lingers, before dissolving into buttery bliss.

The caramelization of the white chocolate takes some time - you need to stir it every 10 minutes or so as it bakes at a low temperature in the oven. However, if you have an hour to spare, do it. And make sure you use Valrhona chocolate because it has a high cocoa butter content, allowing it to melt smoothly without turning too chalky. This is one of the best ice creams we've ever made - right up there with champagne, green tea, jasmine, vanilla bean, bourbon, fresh strawberry, and garden mint, all in the ice cream hall of fame.

Caramelized White Chocolate Creme Fraiche Ice Cream (adapted from David Lebovitz's blog)
235 g (8.25 oz) Valrhona white chocolate pieces
¾ cup crème fraiche
1 ¼ cup whole milk
¼ cup sugar
3 large egg yolks
1 pinch of kosher salt

Caramelize white chocolate. Preheat oven to 250°F. Spread chocolate pieces on a Silpat or parchment lined baking sheet in a single layer and place in the oven. Take the tray out after 20 minutes to stir the chocolate and prevent burning. Keep stirring every 10 minutes for 1 hour or so, until the chocolate is caramelized, delicious smelling, and about the color of almond skins. Scrape the chocolate into a small bowl and keep warm and melted until ready to use. You should have about 180 g (6.25 oz) caramelized white chocolate.

Make custard. Place crème fraiche and ½ cup of the milk in a 4-cup glass measuring cup and put a fine mesh sieve on top. Bring remaining ¾ cup milk and half of the sugar (2 Tbsp) to a simmer in a heavy small saucepan over medium-high heat until steaming, stirring a bit to dissolve the sugar. Meanwhile, combine egg yolks and remaining 2 Tbsp sugar in medium bowl; whisk until thick and blended. Gradually whisk steaming milk mixture into yolk mixture. Pour everything back into the pot and stir constantly over medium-low heat, scraping into the corners of the pot, until custard thickens enough to leave path on back of a spatula or spoon when a finger is drawn across and temperature registers 178°F, about 3 minutes. Immediately pour through sieve into crème fraiche mixture. Mix a splash of custard into the melted caramelized white chocolate until smooth. Pour white chocolate mixture into the rest of the custard. Add a teeny pinch of salt, mix to dissolve, and taste and adjust salt as needed. Refrigerate at least 5 hours until completely cold (overnight is best). Churn in ice cream maker.

Carrot Cake with Mascarpone Frosting

Carrot cake is a classic. You mess with carrot cake, you go to jail.

Woahhhh Nelly, hold your horses! (neigghhhh...!) Hate to break it to ya but you're wrong! You CAN mess, but you gotta do it legitly. Every legit carrot cake needs to have real carrots, walnuts or pecans (we used both because we couldn't decide), cream cheese frosting, and those cheesy little carrots piped around the top. Whether or not you throw in crushed pineapple, coconut, cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, buttermilk, chopped ginger or raisins is up to you, and will allow you to determine who your real friends are.

We adapted this beauty from Sam's famous carrot cake on Allrecipes, and paired it with mascarpone cream cheese frosting. The mascarpone balances the tang of the cream cheese and adds a nutty sweetness. We don't like tooth-achingly sweet frosting. Paula once put SIX cups of powdered sugar to one stick of butter and one 8-oz brick of cream cheese. Don't know about y'all, but we ain't wearin' dentures/have Deen Family Sugar Tolerance. So we reduced the sugar in both the cake and the frosting, and it's still plenty sweet and scrumptious.

Sam told us to use 8 oz of crushed pineapple with juice, but we think that the juice made the cake a little too sticky; we wanted a fluffier, lighter cake, so we suggest draining the pineapple of excess juice. Also, we substituted some of the white sugar for brown sugar, but this may have also made the cake slightly denser and moister (akin to a sticky toffee date pudding, which some may prefer); maybe all white sugar is the way to go. Also, let the cake cool completely before wrapping in plastic wrap to prevent condensation. We think raisins don't go with carrot cake as well as crystallized ginger does - ginger just fits so well in the cinnamon, allspice, and nutmeg clique. But if you're not a ginger fan, fret not, we're sure you'll find other friends. In the meantime, make this cake!

Revised and Tested Recipe - the World's Best Carrot Cake
THIS CARROT CAKE IS DELICIOUSLY FRAGRANT AND MOIST thanks to the combination fo buttermilk, flaked coconut, and crushed pineapple. It is also not too sweet because we reduced the sugar from 2 cups to 1 ¼ cup and swapped out raisins for crystalized ginger, which perfectly matches the spiced cake. It contains less oil than most carrot cake recipes, allowing the delicate flavor of the carrots to shine and results in a cake that isn’t too greasy. The mascarpone adds a natural sweetness and lends complexity to an otherwise traditional cream cheese buttercream that is essential to carrot cake.

For the cake:
2 cups + 2 Tbsp all-purpose flour (270 g)
1 ¾ teaspoons baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon table salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg (optional)
1/8 tsp allspice (optional)
3 large eggs (room temp)
3/4 cup low-fat buttermilk (room temp)
3/4 cup vegetable oil
1 1/4 cups white sugar (reduced from 2 cups)
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract
2 ½ cups shredded carrots, about 4-5 large (370 g)
¾ cup unsweetened flaked coconut (75 g, optional)
3/4 cup chopped pecans (or walnuts)
140 g crushed pineapple, drained well
1/2 cup chopped candied ginger

For the mascarpone frosting:
19 Tbsp butter, room temperature
3 cups powdered sugar
16 oz cream cheese, cool
8 oz mascarpone cheese, cool

For the cake: Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Line with parchment circles two 8-inch round cake pans. In a medium bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and spices. Set aside. In a large bowl, combine eggs, buttermilk, oil, sugar and vanilla. Mix well. Add flour mixture and mix well. In a medium bowl, combine shredded carrots, coconut, nuts, pineapple and candied ginger. Using a large wooden spoon or a very heavy whisk, add carrot mixture to batter and fold in well. Pour into prepared pans, and bake at 350 F (175 C) for 50 minutes. Press lightly in the center to check for spring and do the toothpick check (few crumbs cling to toothpick inserted in center). Cool cakes 15 minutes in the pans, remove and cool on wire rack for 5 hours until no longer warm. Wrap with plastic wrap and store at room temp overnight or in the fridge or freezer until ready to frost.

* we shredded 75% of the carrots by hand to produce an interesting texture and visible carrot pieces in the cake. We then processed the remaining unshreddable ends in the food processer until pretty finely ground, and added them to the cake to make 2 ½ cups total (370 g).

For mascarpone frosting: In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter and powdered sugar on lowest speed until all of the sugar is incorporated. Increase speed to high and beat 2-3 minutes until light and fluffy. Add cream cheese 8oz at a time, beating 1 minute after each addition or until smooth and fluffy. Add mascarpone cheese and beat 1 more minute or until smooth, satiny, and fluffy. Add more powdered sugar to taste or if your frosting is too stiff. Remove some frosting and add food coloring to make carrots.

The Ultimate Banana Cream Pie

Banana cream pie is already up to no good, so it wouldn't hurt to make it naughtier...

...by adding salted caramel and two types of shaved chocolate! But the food nerds think....

...there's STILL room for improvement. :D Updated, ultimate ultimate version coming in the near future. Stay tuned!

White Chocolate Mousse Fruit Jewel Cake

Fluffy buttery vanilla cake filled with creamy white chocolate mousse and fresh grapes, frosted with crème chantilly and garnished with almonds, pistachio brittle, caramelized hazelnut powder, fresh figs, and grapes.

I'm usually a very modest person. But another one of my virtues as a human being is that I am honest. And it would be a violation of the moral fiber of my very soul to say that this little cake is not the most adorable little gem of a cake I had ever seen get created from my two hands. (I have submitted the previous sentence to the writers of the SAT for their writing improvement section). I simply adore natural decorations on a cake (translation - this person is too lazy/nooby to decorate cakes otherwise). Just look at the gorgeous villi-like innards of the figs contrasting with the shiny jet black skins, the little veins of the translucent grape flesh, and the organic shards of the nuts and iridescent caramel (mais non, I did not plagiarize from an anatomy text). I made the butter cake part ages ago and froze it. Then I split it in half - this was a genius maneuver because it enabled me to dodge my knack of mutilating soft cakes while sawing them into layers. I cheated on the white chocolate mousse too - it was made by pouring 1 cup hot cream on 2.5 oz of chopped white chocolate, stirring to melt, and then chilling the ganache and beating it til soft peaks formed.

Please let me redeem myself by telling you about the grapes. Those grapes were individually hand selected and peeled, cut in half, and seeds removed. The pistachio brittle and hazelnut caramel powder were made by pouring caramel over the nuts, letting it cool, and breaking it up. For the powder, I used the food processor to blast the brittle to smithereens. The outside of the cake is just lightly sweetened whipped cream (it sounds fancier when you call it crème chantilly), stabilized with "Whip-It." The almonds conveniently cover all the imperfections.

I learned a trick to making the cream smooth while frosting the outside! I don't actually think it's a trick...I'm pretty certain all legit cake decorators would roll their eyes upon hearing my profound discovery of dipping the spatula in a vat of hot water while smoothing the cream. Genius, huh?

Believe it or not, there are improvements I would make to this cake. The white chocolate mousse could be more legit. Although it was super simple to make, I thought the flavor was lacking in something. Maybe I would add some malted milk powder to it or use a mousse recipe with egg yolks. The crème chantilly, however, cannot be improved - kudos to whichever cow made that cream and the Hawaiian farmer who made that sugar. Oh, and I guess the matchmaker behind that happy marriage should get some credit too. I only used figs and grapes because all the other yummier fruits got eaten. If I could have my way, the cake would be filled with blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries, would be 3 layers tall, and would be topped with mango, kiwi, strawberry, and blackberry slices. Kind of like a fruit tart. It would be gorgeous! But I shall stop right there because I think I hear some sniffling coming from the fridge, and you know I hate to hurt cakes' feelings. Perhaps we can console it by devouring another slice...

Cavernous Cream Puffs

The cream puff is such a naughty way to indulge in cream. Its lumpy, humble external surface belies the dollop of gluttony that fills its cavernous interior. The best kind of cream for this indulgence is whipped cream lightened vanilla pastry cream - so billowy, light, yet creamy. With a drizzle of salted creme fraiche lemon caramel sauce on the inside of the puff, it is a divine experience.

I used to think huge cream puffs were the ultimate indulgence. But now I think small ones are better. The shell is crispier, and the ratio of cream to shell is perfect for enjoying a few delicious bites. Cream doesn't dribble down your chin when you eat it. And, the best part is that you can eat several because they are small.

Gateau St Honore

This evil little puppy. Whoever came up with it was up to no good. The Gateau Saint Honore is made of a puff pastry base, a ring of choux pastry encircling a filling of silky light chiboust cream (meringue lightened pastry cream), accented with cream puffs dipped in caramel and garnished with a generous swirl of chantily cream. What's that? Not enough cream? Oh let's be friends. :D

For the puff pastry base, measure the butter square, roll out the flaps (this was so much fun!) and tuck that butter baby in nice and snug. Don't get too attached. You'll be smashing and rolling it and sticking it in the cold fridge.

Fold like a business letter, chill 40 minutes, repeat 5 more times for traditional puff pastry and only 3 more times for this cake! What a deal. I opted to make miniature cakes so I cut them little circles. See that middle photo right below? That's the culprit...the hot caramel that is responsible for the fat blister on someone's left thumb! Actually the thumb's owner's own stupidity is to blame.

To make puff pastry, you need two things which I lacked. One, the ability to roll dough into shapes that don't resemble amoebas. Two, the patience of a saint. The dough needs to rest for 40 minutes after each turn (there are six turns! can't even count them on one hand) to let the gluten relax and the butter rechill so it doesn't melt and stick the precious layers together. I was on my 5th or 6th turn...forgot to do the indentation dough thing to keep track, and I checked another recipe from the Pastry Bible (not the recipe I was using, but I was just curious) and to my elation it said that you only need 4 turns for the St Honore because the base of the cake doesn't need all 1000 or so layers of traditional puff pastry. Me and that book became friends real fast.

The spun sugar was actually really easy to make. I watched a few youtube videos of some really pro people making spun sugar, and then got sidetracked and found myself gawking at old Asian ladies making dragons and phoenixes and stuff out of caramel. Amazing! But being the overachiever I am, I made something even better. The phoenix's maison. What did you say? Oh please, don't inflate my ego.

Hear that? It's the puff pastry calling your name. Needless to say, the seductively dripping chiboust cream is intentional.

I used a combination of the recipe from Tartelette's beautiful blog and the one from the Pastry Bible. My ring of choux pastry on top of the puff pastry was definitely too fat, and unfairly cheated me out of my precious chiboust cream filling. Also the three cream puffs on this cake are the only three presentable ones from the batch - the others were either the size of grapes or the shape of oversized lumpy popcorn. My piping skills never fail to amaze me. To be honest, I really only cared for the chiboust cream! I could just live on that stuff. Next time I'll just make a vat of chiboust cream and dine in heaven. Since it'd be sans the butter-laden puff pastry, it would be figure friendly too...