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‘NO-Bake Fresh Baked’ Category

  1. “Sticky Toffee” Bites

    October 24, 2012 by Cas

    OK, folks… these need a bit of an intro and explanation. And before I go any further, start dusting off your prayer books, because a few of these and you’ll feel guilty as original sin.

    This is my gourmet take on going ghetto. Park Avenue meets Trailer Park.

    And I say this because the roots of these sweets — part confection, part cookie, completely indulgent — are to be found in the realm of no-bake simplicity that is the hallmark of the sort of kitchen crafting upon which foodies tend to look down.

    Fuck that.

    What a true foodie — a TRUE culinary maestro — should know above all else is that food is value, calculated the same way we value any other material good. If price (in this case not just monetary, but also in terms of time investment) is justified by quality of the goods, then it is valuable. And these treats, my friend, are worth a King’s ransom.

    These came into my world as a no-bake no-brainer, but I’ve found that a quick stint in the oven helps the whole thing set up so much better, plus it makes the flavors harmonize like they just wouldn’t in a traditional no-bake cake or cookie bar. These are highly adaptable, and this is just the first of my now begged-for creations along the line of the basic Mother Recipe. In addition to penning Mama below, I’m sharing the details for her first born — Bacon, Chocolate and Sea Salt — and will post my further prunings of the family tree as I go (let’s just say that kid sibling, White Chocolate Chili, literally had friends’ eyes rolling back into their heads when I introduced them at a birthday party in a gay bar in Hell’s Kitchen; proudly, it’s the first time I’ve elicited that reaction in such a venue with my fly still up).

    I’ve named these “Sticky Toffee Bites” for the following reasons: these share a close kinship with “beggar’s toffee”, which is an old confectionery staple that utilized a combination of saltine or soda crackers, sugar, and butter. Those are generally baked to the point of a more brittle bite, and since these provide more of a finger-licking gooey finish, “sticky” applies here the same way it does to buns and baked puddings.

    I have adapted the single-bowl method through which I developed these to the more  modern (and simple) single-food-processor-session preparation you’ll see below. It is not essential that you go New School with these, as they’re still easy as hell to throw together the old fashioned way. Enjoy, and let me know what you think.

    Mother Recipe:

    INGREDIENTS

    3 Sleeves Ritz Crackers (or similar)
    1 Can (14 oz.) Sweetened Condensed Milk

    In bowl of food processor, pulse crackers to coarse crumbs. IF DOING A VARIATION WITH NUTS OR CANDY ADDITIONS, add these now and pulse a few times to chop them a bit.

    Pour sweetened condensed milk into the cracker mix. Pulse several times to mix completely.

    Bacon, Chocolate and Sea Salt Bites

    1 Batch Sticky Toffee Mother Recipe (see above)
    6-8 Slices bacon (fried, drained, and crumbled to equal about 3/4 C.) or equivalent, divided
    1 Bag (11.5 or 12 oz., depending on variety) chocolate morsels of choice (I use Nestles or Ghirardelli semi-sweet), divided
    1 tsp. Coarse sea salt

    Preheat oven to 350°. Line an 8″ x 8″ baking pan with waxed paper or parchment, leaving at least an inch of overhang to help lift out finished bars (if using flexible silicone bakeware, lining isn’t necessary).

    Begin with preparation of Mother recipe; reserve 1 Tbsp. of the crumbled bacon, and add the rest of the bacon  and roughly 2/3 the bag of chocolate morsels to the processor bowl, pulsing several times to chop along with the crackers. Add the sweetened condensed milk, and pulse several times to mix completely.

    At this point, you have a choice: the larger crumb as it is will provide a very nice, more cake-like bite to your toffee bars. Further processing until it resembles more of a coarse cookie dough (a few more pulses or a brief steady run on “low”) gives a more dense, soft-cookie finish. Sadly, I cannot recommend one over the other, because happily, I’ve done both and enjoy them equally. So like “salt and pepper to taste” in any recipe, I’ll say this “pulse for consistency to taste.”

    Dump the contents of the processor bowl into the baking dish. Press the dough evenly into bottom of pan, then wet a kitchen tablespoon and smooth the top with the back of the spoon to get it to as even a thickness as possible.

    Bake for 8 minutes. Open oven, sprinkle remaining 1/3 bag of morsels equally over top of baked toffee, and return to the oven for 2 minutes more.

    Immediately remove the pan from the oven and, using an offset spatula or the same big spoon you used a few minutes ago, spread the melting chips around to evenly frost the top of the toffee. While the chocolate is still soft, sprinkle evenly with the reserved 1 Tbsp. of bacon bits and the sea salt, pressing any runaway bits into place.

    Allow the bars to cool in the pan (placing pan on a cooling rack will help) at least an hour. This lets the chocolate top set up, but a time-out in the freezer will help to totally harden it after the base is cool.

    I’m lying to you and myself if I say this is necessary. If you’re packing it and giving it away, yes: you want to cool it completely so the chocolate is solid, cut it into neat little 1″ squares (and YES, I use a ruler and a mezzaluna to accomplish this because — hello, are you new?).

    But these are really totally ready to eat warm out of the oven if you so fancy. And that could mean anything from popping it out of the baking pan, cutting it into bars, and serving with a dollop of whipped cream or ice cream, to standing over the sink in your underwear and eating it straight out of the pan with a spoon. Or your fingers. But then you’d be scraping chocolate out from under your fingernails with your teeth, and that’s a great way to fuck up both a manicure and a pricey set of veneers in one fell swoop, and personally I don’t want to be liable for any such personal tragedies.

    So cool them completely, cut them into nice, bite-size pieces, and share with people you love.

    Or with people you hate and tell them they’re only a point a piece on Weight Watchers and watch them get really really fat because they’re so stupid they believed you.


  2. Pomegranate Tiramisu

    May 10, 2011 by Cas

    From the “Meet the Lady” files…

    This recipe was created by me to fit the bill for the recent “Meet the Lady” performance (which, if you’ve not heard or read, is a monthly variety show that really rather defies description), titled “Death and the Maiden”.

    I toiled with possible ideas that had to do with death and maidens, figuring most easily that a “death by chocolate” offering would at least use one of the title words. Then lady fingers came into the thought process because, well, if you dismembered a maiden you’d have two byproducts: death, most notably, and lady parts — including, but not limited to, her fingers.

    Lady fingers naturally led to Tiramisu fantasies, but I didn’t want to go the traditional route. And after discussing it and brainstorming, I got smacked in the back of the head with the realization that the mythical Persephone — a maiden — kidnapped as she was by Hades — who, by way of his being the god of the underworld, was death its very self in semi-human form — ate nothing but pomegranate seeds during her detainment in hell.

    If this doesn’t spell fucking dessert, I don’t know what does.

    Herewith, my scaled-down recipe (in scope, not in structure or composition; I doubt you’ll need to serve 75 people with yours, though even at half-size this will serve a small army). You can pare it down even further if you feel such need, or instead of making it into one big sheet cake, assemble several smaller ones (I found this worked BEAUTIFULLY in loaf pans) and send them straight to the freezer for future enjoyment.

    A few other flexible considerations: I made mine in a full-size deep steam table pan for presentation and food service purposes. These things measure roughly 20 x 10 x 3.5”, but you can use the smaller (12 x 9 x 2.5”) disposable aluminum half-pans for this recipe, or as stated above, any other configuration of sizes that suit your needs. If you want to unmold it and slice it after freezing, line your pans first with cellophane wrap. After just a minute or two out of the ice box, you’ll be able to lift it out of the pan (perhaps with the help of a hungry friend) by the ends of the cellophane, place it on a cutting board, and have at it. Tres artistique, even weighing in as mine did at about eight pounds. This last conclusion required me getting on the scale both with and without the final dessert in my arms and subtracting the first weight from the laden number, which could have been quite a site, as I generally refuse to step on a scale until I’ve removed every last stitch of clothing including my socks, and spit out any spare saliva and shaved every last facial hair so NOTHING will add even a bazillionth of an ounce to my readout, lest I suffer a deep fit of depression. And being depressed when you’re holding what turns out to be 8 pounds of really good cake is a recipe for emotion-eating disaster. But I staved off the need to feel slimmer than normal in light of the facts that (a) I was mid-movie shoot that week, and thus had to maintain a larger-than-usual mane of face-hair for my role; (b) spitting near food meant for others would be gross; (c) being naked around the same food would be even grosser; and (d) the tile floor in my bathroom could be a bit chilly, so why risk taking off my socks?

    Socks, spitting, scanty clothing — nothing could have made this less enjoyable. The audience that night devoured what was served to them, and all but attacked the leftovers on the way out of the theater. I had sent samples of this creation to my usual team of taste-testers for input as part of the development process, and perhaps the most poignant and fitting critique came from my dear Mom who, just having started a new diet regimen, had the following to say during our brief check-in on the phone:

    “Hello. This is your mother. Fuck Weight Watchers, and Fuck You.”

    I love you, Mom. And not just because you loved this surprising new take on an old favorite.

    60 Lady Finger cookies

    4 Cups Pomegranate juice
    1-½ Cups plus 2 Tbsp. sugar
    1 Packet unflavored gelatin

    4 Egg whites
    1 tsp. Cream of Tartar

    1 Cup Mascarpone cheese (or our substitute)
    3 Cups Crème Fraiche (try ours)

    1 Tbsp. Corn starch
    ¼ Cup water (or as needed)

    ½ Cup sliced almonds
    ¼ Cup Pomegranate seeds (or dried sweetened cranberries)

    Reserve 6 Lady Fingers for garnish.

    In a saucepan, mix pomegranate juice with 1-½ cups sugar, and sprinkle gelatin on top. Stir or whisk until gelatin is dissolved with no lumps remaining. Bring mixture to boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly until sugar and gelatin are fully dissolved. Reduce heat to medium-low and continue to boil, stirring often, for 10 minutes. Remove from heat and set saucepan into a larger bowl filled with cold water. Stir frequently and change cold water bath often, allowing juice reduction to cool as close to room temperature as possible.

    In the bowl of a stand mixer or with electric beaters, whip egg whites with cream of tartar until stiff. Remove to a separate, clean mixing bowl (preferably chilled in the freezer) and set aside.

    In stand mixer or large mixing bowl with electric beaters, mix mascarpone with 1-½ cups of cooled juice reduction until well blended. Beat on medium-high for one minute. Add 1 cup of the crème fraiche and blend until smooth. Finally, fold in beaten egg whites, half at a time, just until fully incorporated.

    Assembling the tiramisu: Here’s where Food Daddy starts getting anal (but this works easiest, so just shut up and do as I say. Love you!). On your prep surface, set your plate or bowl of unpackaged lady fingers (you don’t want to be messing with cellophane and plastic bags and such mid-project here); next to that, set your remaining juice reduction; and next to that, set your cake pan.

    Working from left to right (or for my Hebrew or dyslexic foodies, right to left), dip a lady finger lightly in the juice by placing it on the liquid’s surface, flipping it over with your fingers, then removing it by hand and placing it in the cake pan. Working quickly, repeat this process, building a tightly packed layer of side-by-side, row-by-row, lightly soaked lady fingers on the bottom of the pan. Nobody will see the inside of the tiramisu in its entirety, so if to make a uniform layer with few gaps you need to rip a finger here or stuff a finger there, I won’t tell a soul if you have to be a bit forceful or creative.

    Spoon half of the pomegranate mousse mixture over the bottom layer of lady fingers. Using the back of a spoon or a rubber spatula, spread the mixture evenly. Lift the pan and drop it gently a few times on your work surface, just to make sure all the gaps are filled and big air bubbles are removed.

    Repeat with a second layer of dipped lady fingers, and then a second layer of pomegranate mousse, again tamping pan to release air bubbles and distribute the filling evenly. Top with one final layer of dipped lady fingers.

    Spread the top with the remaining 2 cups of crème fraiche, tamp pan to settle the layers, and set aside.

    Pour remaining juice mixture into a measuring cup, and add enough of the water, if needed, to make 1 cup of liquid. Return to saucepan, and stir in the corn starch and the remaining 2 Tbsp. of sugar until starch is dissolved. Place pan over medium-high heat, and bring to a boil to thicken. Remove from heat.

    In a food processor or with a cutting board and knife, coarsely chop the almonds and the fruit, then add the reserved lady fingers and pulse (or chop and crumble) until the whole thing looks like somebody pawed at a poor helpless berry-nut muffin until there were no big chunks left.

    Sprinkle the crumb mixture evenly over the top of the tiramisu. Drizzle with the pomegranate syrup mixture.

    Chill tiramisu at least 2 hours in refrigerator before serving. For overnight storage or longer, cover with cellophane wrap gently pressed against the top surface.

    This will “cure” and the flavors will blend and the whole combination really pull together if left refrigerated for two days. For storage beyond that or to deal with leftovers, this freezes BEAUTIFULLY. Just allow to come to room temperature before serving, or enjoy it “semi freddo” by removing from freezer and slicing wide, inch-thick slices, laying each on its side on individual serving plates and eating it cold and firm. A dollop of additional crème fraiche and a sprinkling of chopped almonds (did I hear someone say “mint sprig”?) sure would make this anything but a “leftover” dessert.


  3. Guiltless, Effortless, Oven-less Cheesecake

    April 8, 2011 by Cas

    So today this came up for the third time in about two weeks, and since it did (and since everyone loves when I make some variation of this, or a variety of them) I figured it was time to share, and QUICKLY, to save a gal-pal from falling off the wagon and into a huge vat of cream cheese-coated despair.

    Guiltless, because we’ve taken out all the fat and can pull out almost all the sugar as well (see ingredients); Effortless, because the prep takes under 10 minutes, and you have a table-ready dessert after not much more resting and chilling time; and Ovenless because — let’s hear a collective “Duh!” folks… YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO BAKE THE FUCKER.

    Now traditionally I have used real sugar in this; I give you your choice. And you CAN make it with full-fat cream cheese if you so desire, but why bother? And you CAN make it into a pie with a pre-made or homemade graham cracker crust (I’ve done it from Spring-form pan down to mini-muffin bites, and every size in between) but you don’t need a crust. When you’re looking to STAY ON A CALORIE-RESTRICTED DIET as well as HAVE SOMETHING REALLY TASTY AND SATISFYING, you make concessions.

    Yes, two weeks in Hawaii would be lovely in the presidential suite of a beach-front luxury hotel. But when you have only 2 days and a few hundred bucks, a cheapie weekend cruise to nowhere is better than sticking your feet in a festering kiddie pool in the alley next to your un-air-conditioned apartment, no?

    Try it. Vary it. Enjoy it. And report your own personal touches back to the Food Daddy.

    1 Envelop Knox unflavored gelatin
    1/2 Cup sugar (OR… 12 packets of EQUAL sugar-free sweetener; OR… 1/3 Cup Xylitol or Erythritol) *
    3/4 Cup water
    16 oz. Fat-free cream cheese
    1 tsp. Vanilla extract (or lemon, orange, or almond)

    Optional: Ritz Crackers, ‘Nilla Wafers or Ginger Snap Cookies.

    Line 12 muffin cups with paper cupcake liners. If you so choose, drop a cracker or cookie into each (an additional 30 calories per serving if you use Ginger Snaps, 15 calories for the Ritz and Nilla Wafer options).

    Bring water to a boil. Mix gelatin and sugar in a small bowl. If you are using sugar substitute, do NOT mix it in, but wait until later, as directed below. As soon as water boils, pour gelatin (and sugar, if using) into water, taking it off the flame and whisking it until completely dissolved; set aside to cool slightly.

    Beat cream cheese and vanilla in a separate mixing bowl. Slowly beat in the gelatin mixture until whip until smooth, about an additional two minutes. If using sugar subtitute, add it in now before the final whipping.

    Immediately divide the cream cheese mix among the prepared muffin cups. Tap the pan down on the counter top a few times to loosen any air bubbles, and refrigerate until set to your desired firmness. After a few hours it will be really good and solid.

    NUTRITIONAL IMPACT: ONE (1) serving is 1/12th of this recipe. So one Mini Cheesecake. If you prepare it with sugar, each Mini has 70 calories (mostly from sugar) and about 6 gms. of protein. IF YOU PREPARE IT with the sugar substitute, you’re looking at even LESS guilt (so Italians, Jews, I’m sorry: this dessert is NOT for us) with only 42 calories, 80% of which come from the protein. Huzzah! Take THAT, cellulite! You’ve met your match — and it tastes like cheesecake…

    * Check out this guide to substituting some popular artificial sweeteners in baking.