DORIE GREENSPAN

Roll-Out Cookies: A Shortcut

Yesterday, I decided to turn my Midnight Crackles (the recipe is from Baking From My Home to Yours), cookies that you form by rolling balls of dough between your palms then pressing the puffs down lightly on the baking sheet, into roll-out cookies.  I wanted something flatter than the pillowy buttons the ball-and-press technique gave me and I knew, because the dough was firmish right after it was mixed, and downright hard after it chilled, that it would be a good candidate for roll-out treatment.  I also knew that I could take a short-cut with the dough: instead of shaping the dough into a disk, chilling the disk and then rolling the dough, I went directly to roll-out without passing GO and without mishap.

Here's what I did: As soon as the dough was mixed, I divided it and placed each piece of dough between two sheets of wax paper and gently rolled the dough to the thickness I needed (in this case, the dough was about 1/8-inch thick).  I then slid the "sandwich" onto a cutting board and chilled the dough for an hour or so until it was very firm.  (Since this dough has a lot of chocolate it in, it firms quickly and thoroughly.)

Because the straight-from-the-mixer dough was soft, the rolling was easy; because the straight-from-the-fridge dough was hard, the cutting was easy - a happy combination of conditions.

This wasn't the first time I'd used this technique - it's what I do pretty routinely with shortbread cookies (actually, with sticky shortbread dough I scoop the dough into a zipper-lock plastic bag, roll it to fill the bag, chill it, then slit the bag and cut the dough into squares with a knife - I get the perfect thickness that way), but as I was rolling and cutting, it occurred to me -- again -- that it's a cool technique for making fast work of what can be a fussy job.

bonappetit.com: It All Starts Today

So much has been changing at Bon Appetit (where I'm a special correspondent).  There's the new logo, the magazine's new design, its new features (including a column by Molly Wizenberg, the blogger best known as Orangette) and now -- the new website!

The site launches today (probably around noon, Eastern Time) and it's got way too many features for me to outline here, so I'm just going to hit the biggest deal: The Bon Appetit Top 100 Dishes, with endless information about each dish.  There are how-to videos, slideshows, tips, tricks, links to info on and sources for ingredients, related articles from everywhere and comments and ratings from users.  There's also Bon Appetit's Flickr group, a bonappetit.com You Tube channel, a Facebook Fan page and Project Recipe, which has Chris Hall, an experienced home cook from Berkeley, and Bridget Moloney, a novice from New York City, cooking and blogging their way through all the recipes.

When I was with some of the site designers in Las Vegas last week, they were so excited they could barely sit still -- and they didn't: When they were talking about the site they just kept popping out of their chairs!  They've worked on this a long, long time and they were counting down the seconds til launch day.  Now, the day is here, and I've got to say, I'm excited, too.  Hope to bump into you there.

A Taste of Vegas Uncork'd

I'm in Las Vegas for Bon Appetit's Vegas Uncork'd, billed as an Epicurean Experience, it could modestly be called a culinary lollapalooza.  It's three days of lunches, dinners, workshops, tastings and general jolly-making with tens of Las Vegas chefs, which means tens of the country's best.  The amount of talent in this town is mind-boggling.

I've been here only 36 hours and already I've got too much to tell you and not enough time to sit down and do the telling.  So, I'll mention just a few things and then try to tell you more when I'm not in the midst of it all.   In no particular order, here are some tidbits ...

I'm staying at Wynn and being spoiled silly.  When I toddled into my room last night I found this amazing box of chocolates by Frederic Robert waiting for me.  It was very late and I was very tired, but as soon as I spotted the huge box I started giggling like a little kid.  From left to right by rows, there's:

• Candy bars -- coffee and coconut
• Caramel bouchee and milk gianduja bouchee
• Lollipops
• Chocolate-covered hazelnuts
• Tablets of milk chocolate, dark chocolate and white chocolate with fruit and nuts
• Chocolate-covered almonds
• Spiced mixed nuts
• Popcorn, and these

• Soft pretzels with mustard, which made a great snack this afternoon

These chocolates -- I called them, the package and the thoughtfulness amazing already, didn't I? -- joined another little goody, which also came with a story. I was picked up at the airport by someone from Wynn (told you I was being spoiled) and, in the course of our chatting, I mentioned that I love M&Ms and was hoping to find time to visit the M&M museum.  Thirty minutes later, when the bellman arrived with my bags, he said, "I understand you like M&M's, so maybe you'll like these," and he handed me this:

a bowl with enough M&Ms to keep me for the weekend.

In between chocolate treats, I hosted a dinner at Payard, Francois Payard's gem of a patisserie and dessert restaurant in Caesars Palace.  Here I am with Francois and Mario Rinaldi from Champagne Paul Goerg, who makes Francois' excellent rose Champagne (if you know my blog, you know that I almost never appear in pictures, but last night, whenever I said I wanted a picture of someone, I seemed to get pulled into the shot)

I was so busy eating and chatting with guests that I didn't get to take food shots, but if ever you're in Las Vegas, you've got to go to Payard, have the four-course dessert menu -- all of which will be prepared in the kitchen-in-the-round in the center of his beautiful and very intimate (only 40 seats) restaurant -- and hope that the Milk Chocolate Payard Candy Bar with Gianduja and Caramel Glaze is on it.

At the dinner was someone I think many of you know

the adorable (funny and smart) Adam Roberts, The Amateur Gourmet and the star of The FN Dish on the Food Network's website.

Then this afternoon, I played sidekick to Anthony Amorosa, executive chef of Michael Mina. 

Anthony did a workshop that had us all mesmerized -- he prepared a lobster cannoloni and a boneless rack of lamb sous-vide and got everyone in the overflow audience (me included) so excited about the possibilities of cooking this way at home that we were all teasing that soon we'd be competing against one another on e-bay to buy immersion circulators, the tool chefs use to keep water at a constant 68 degrees C, the ideal sous-vide temp.  Because it was so fascinating, I'll tell you more about Anthony's workshop and what I learned in a separate post.

The workshop was in the Bellagio, which means I had the chance to ogle Jean-Philippe Maury's pastisserie.  In the pastry case, I found Maury's contribution to rose fever

and on display, this whimsical assemblage of sculpted cakes

There's more, but I've got to get dolled up and get over to Caesar's for the Grand Tasting.

The Most Extraordinary Lemon Tart Re-thunk

A few weeks ago, I posted the recipe for this lemon tart, a favorite of mine from Pierre Herme, on Serious Eats and, coincidentally, it was chosen as the recipe of the week by the wonderful bakers at Tuesdays with Dorie.  I heard from some of you that you were having difficulties getting the lemon cream up to 180 degrees F -- 165 degrees F seemed to be the stopping point -- and that whether you called it quits at 165 or kept going to 180, it was taking a long time and a lot of elbow grease to thicken the cream.

Well, I made the recipe over the weekend and I've got a new thought on how to speed up the process and still get the thick, smooth, almost velvety cream that makes this tart so remarkable.

To recap, the recipe calls for the sugar, lemon zest, lemon juice and eggs to be mixed together in a bowl.  The bowl is put over a saucepan with a few inches of boiling water and you whisk, whisk, whisk until the mixture thickens enough for the whisk to leave tracks, then you keep whisking until the cream measures 180 degrees F on a candy or instant-read thermometer.  To finish the cream, you pour it into a blender and cool it slightly before you whir in room-temperature butter -- but that's not the problemmatic part.

So here's what I did over the weekend -- I got bold!  To make my double boiler, I used a soup pot and I filled it about 2/3 full of water, which I brought to a boil.  I then put the bowl (a metal bowl) with all the ingredients over the steaming soup pot (making sure that the bottom of the bowl wasn't touching the boiling water) and whisked like mad.  With so much heat under the bowl, the cream came up to 180 degrees F in under 10 minutes (in fact, the first time I did it, it took 4 minutes and 39 seconds; the second time, it took almost 7 minutes -- different bowl, different pot, different stove).

Of course, if you're going to supercharge the power under the bowl, you've got to be vigilant -- you can't take your eyes off the cream; energetic -- you can't stop whisking, even for a few seconds; and  nimble -- as soon as the cream shows the slightest signs of thickening, measure the temperature and make sure to remove the bowl from the heat immediately the instant you hit 180 degrees F.

A couple of other re-thinks:  If your lemon zest was very finely grated (I use a Microplane grater/zester), then you don't need to strain the cream -- just quickly scrape the hot cream from the bowl into the blender.  And, while you shouldn't add the butter to the cream while it's still very hot (if you do, then the butter will melt, as it does in a lemon curd, and you won't get the great texture that sets this cream apart), you don't really need to measure the cream's temperature before you butterize it -- if you leave the cream in the blender for 8 to 10 minutes, it will be just the right temperature for blending in the butter.

Finally, I made this tart on Sunday as part of my workshop at Pastry Scoop's Spring Conference at The French Culinary Institute, and, because it was at hand, I used lime juice in place of the lemon juice and it worked perfectly.

I hope those of you who haven't already made the tart, will -- it's really one of my all-time favorite recipes -- and that those of you who've already made it, will find these tweaks helpful the next time you decide to whisk up this treat.

Mortar and Pestle: What Took Me So Long?

You know how mothers are always telling their kids to follow their advice so that they (the kids) don't have make their (the mothers') mistakes?  Well, I feel a little like a mother now telling you to add a mortar and pestle to your batterie de cuisine sooner in your cooking life than later.

It's not that I didn't have a mortar and pestle before -- I did.  It was just the wrong one.  I had a small green marble duo that looked like it came from ye olde apothecary.  As pretty as it was, that's how ineffective it was.  It just wasn't big enough to do anything that really needed doing and, when I gave it a job that fit its petiteness, it couldn't do that either because it was so slick that stuff would just slide around no matter how fiercely I pounded. 

At last, after so many years in the kitchen, I found a proper mortar and pestle and instantly became a mortar-and-pestle evangelist.  I've also become someone who uses her food processor a lot less.

See the mint leaves in the mortar?  Three minutes after I took the picture, they were pesto!  There's a reason the tool has been around for centuries: it works -- quickly.  And it's fun to use.  And it's easy to clean.  And it's beautiful.  In the few days I've had it, I've made guacamole, an herb paste for a roasted chicken, a garlic vinaigrette and a red pepper dip.  And, I bought another one for Connecticut.  Can you tell I'm hooked?

This particular mortar and pestle comes from Thailand and is made from one piece of rough (the better to grind) granite.  It comes in three sizes: 1 1/2 cups, 2 cups and 3+ cups.  I bought the 3+ and I think, if you get a mortar and pestle, you should go jumbo, too.  You can use it to pound and grind teensy quantities, but when you've got a bunch of basil, a fistful of nuts, or a few heads of garlic, you'll be happy to have the room to move around. 

In true motherly fashion, I think that the first time you pound your way to pesto, you'll thank me.

Hungry For Paris

The only thing wrong with Alec Lobrano's new book, Hungry for Paris, is that, after 418 pages and 102 stories (and solid information) about restaurants, you're starved for more.  Read the book like a novel - the writing is superb and each restaurant "review" is more short story than traditional critique - and when you reach the end, you might want to start all over again.  For sure, you'll want to go to Paris, follow in Alec's footsteps and eat your way through the city.  The book is a little gem.

And really, so is Alec, who is a friend of mine and the best dining companion on any side of the Atlantic.  Alec is an American who's lived in Paris for over 20 years, has watched the Paris scene since his arrival, and has reported on it for many, many publications, most notably as Gourmet's European Correspondent, all of which doesn't tell you the important stuff about Alec: he's top-of-the-class smart, charming, so funny that I never go out with him without making sure I have a handkerchief, so I can dab away the inevitable tears of laughter (I also make sure not to wear mascara that can run), boundlessly talented and deeply passionate about food and restaurants.  After years of eating out, thousands of restaurants and just as many articles about his adventures, Alec is still in love with the scene - and it's all on the page.

Can you tell I'm crazy about him?  And can you see why?

Funny, but I think that when you read Hungry for Paris, you'll be able to tell why.  You'll also be a lot more savvy about Paris restaurants.  In addition to what Alec calls "portraits" of the 102 restaurants, there's a section about "how to have a perfect meal in Paris," a glossary of French food, quick summaries of each restaurant, indexes of restaurants by type and price, and, at the end of each chapter, a not-to-be-missed story.

I've lived in Paris for a while and I know a lot about the city's restaurants, but still, as I read through Hungry for Paris, I found myself sticking Post-its on tens of pages.  Bet you will, too.

If you want to follow Alec as he travels around, visit his new website.

Passover Wines Not To Be Passed Over

Passover, which starts at sundown this Saturday (at least in this hemisphere), is probably the Jewish holiday with the most food traditions.  The best-known Passover custom is the ban on anything leavened -- so long no-knead bread and morning muffins -- and the most dreaded is the typical wine that's served at the Passover seder, the ritual dinner that marks the start of the holiday, which commemorates the Jews' exodus from Egypt.

While the food at a seder can be spectacular, the kosher wine served along with it -- and wine is a "mandated" part of the meal -- can be (and often was) undrinkable.  The Passover wine that I remember was as thick as motor oil and as sweet as syrup.  For sure, it did nothing to enhance the holiday brisket and worse, because even kids sometimes get a sip of wine at the seder, it probably made teetotalers out of potential mavens. 

Imagine how much more delicious seders would have been with great wines to go with the meals cooks spend days preparing.  Enter Jeff and Jodie Morgan and their wines, Covenant and Red C.

I ran into Jeff and Jodie (pictured above on their porch) when I was in Napa in January and I was so happy to meet Jodie and to catch up with Jeff after many years.  I'd known Jeff in New York in the late '80s, when he was writing about wine and working on the Dean & DeLuca Cookbook.  Shortly after we met, he and Jodie moved to San Francisco and Jeff became a member of the Wine Spectator's prestigious (and feared) tasting panel.  A few years later, Jeff went from judging wines to making them:  He and Jodie founded SoloRosa and just about single-handedly put quality rose on connoisseurs' radar.

I guess I didn't know Jeff well enough in the "old days" to know that he was such a fighter, but clearly the guy can't let a challenge go unmet, which would be the only way to explain his deciding to make kosher wine, probably the least respected type of wine in winedom.  I bet the Baron de Rothschild of legendary Chateau Lafite, who also makes kosher wine, was happy to have Jeff enter the ring.  It can be lonely at the top and now Jeff and his wines are at the top, too.

Convenant and Red C, both Napa cabernet sauvignons, have gotten consistently high rankings from the uber-guru of wines, Robert Parker.  The latest Red C vintage got an 89-90 rating, while Parker gave Covenant a whopping 90 - 92 and said, "Jeff Morgan continues to make one of the finest kosher wines on Planet Earth." 

Of course, like so many good Napa wines, Covenant and Red C are expensive ($90 and $42 respectively), but Passover comes only once a year and if, when you pour a glass of wine for the angel Elijah, as tradition demands,  this turns out to be the year he actually shows up to drink it, wouldn't you want to have a great wine waiting for him?

Baking with Dorie: Cheesecake

I'm a little late linking to this week's Baking with Dorie recipe on Serious Eats, but I don't think it's crucial, since a classic cheesecake really doesn't have a time limit. 

And this is a classic - and classy - cheesecake:  tall, smooth, rich, dense and creamy, creamy, creamy.  You can make it with all kinds of crusts - this one's the traditional graham cracker crust - or, for Passover (which starts next Saturday night), you can make it crustless or use Kosher-for-Passover macaroons instead of crackers.

In fact, the cheesecake lends itself to all kinds of variations.  I've got 11 of them in my book and I bet you can think of at least 11 more.

If you play around with the recipe, I'd love to know what you do.

(Photo by Alan Richardson)

Hello, Cupcake! Hello, Fun!

Just when you thought cupcakes couldn't get any cuter, in march these penguins!  And, along with them, a passel of pandas

a field of sunflowers, a litter of Westies, a garden planted with peas and carrots and the craziest crazy horses made with circus peanuts, creme wafers, twist pretzels and gobs of frosting straight from the supermarket shelf.  In fact, all of the giggle-guaranteed cupcakes in Hello, Cupcake are made with supermarket stuff and require not a bit of baking talent.  It's pure fun!

And the fun comes from friends of mine, the photographer Alan Richardson, and the woman Gourmet magazine called the "cake whisperer," Karen Tack, both of whom I credit with making Baking From My Home to Yours beautiful.  (Alan took the pictures for my book and Karen was the food stylist.)

Working together in Karen's Connecticut kitchen, the team created a collection of cupcakes so completely heart-winning -- and whacky (wait until you see the little kid cupcakes having a slumber party!) -- that you'll find yourself grinning and giggling even before you've got your first cake in hand.

I'm not a good predictor, but I think it's a safe bet that within weeks we'll be seeing Hello, Cupcake Clubs.  Me, I'm thinking of becoming a club-of-one and starting with the mama and baby owl cupcakes made with some of my favorite things:  Oreos (regular and mini), Junior Mints, chocolate-covered sunflower seeds and M&Ms.  What a hoot, right?

Baking with Dorie: Extraordinary Lemon Cream Tart

I've been traveling and haven't had a chance to write, so I'll catch up on things soon, but I didn't want you to miss this week's Baking with Dorie Recipe at Serious Eats.  It's for my favorite, favorite lemon cream, a recipe from Pierre Herme, and I hope you enjoy it.

More soon -- I'm off to catch another plane.