How2Heroes: Toasted Almond Semifreddo
Watch me make it at How2Heroes.com or you can read how to make it here.
Watch me make it at How2Heroes.com or you can read how to make it here.
Watch me show you how to make simple egg custard cooked in its own shell.
For complete written instructions, go here to my previous post from April.

Gluten-free chocolate chip cookies...held by mom

Gluten-free Chewy Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies
Today: two new recipes - Gluten-Free Chocolate Chip Cookies and (certified!) Gluten-free Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies. And they are tasty.
A few years ago I developed a recipe for gluten-free chocolate chip cookies that had a distinctly beany flavor. That's probably because I used a flour that I now generally avoid - garbanzo. The flavor is too overpowering and 'green' tasting. Great in hummus, not so great in chocolate chip cookies.
I've learned a lot in the last few years about gluten-free flours. As I've explained before, I don't use potato starch (nutritionally useless) or corn starch (I avoid using corn as much as possible) or sorghum (it makes me sick) or most rice flours (the texture is wrong). I've fallen in love with teff, the 'smallest grain in the world' that has a neutral flavor and a similar composition to wheat flour and a flavor similar to whole wheat. I also love light buckwheat flour because it has a slightly lighter flavor than regular buckwheat and the color is more attractive in baked gooods. I also use tapioca because it adds sponginess and crispness. And finely milled sweet brown rice flour absorbs moisture, adds a bit of starch and tastes more neutral than other flours.
I also wanted to improve the quality of sweetener I was using. Instead of using white sugar and brown sugar, I used a combination of maple syrup and Rapadura, which is granulated unrefined evaporated cane juice. Considered 'healthier' because it is high in dietary non-heme iron, it still spikes blood sugar.
I decided to keep butter and eggs in the recipe. I don't have an issue with casein, but if you do, you can substitute your favorite non-animal based shortening (margarine etc). You cannot substitute oil one-for-one or the recipe will come out very oily. Reduce oil by 1/3. Eggs can be substituted with 1 t ground flax combined with 2T water.
The key to success with this recipe is to make the dough and allow it to rest, in your refrigerator, for at least 24 hours. This isn't an option. This is a requirement. When allowed to absorb the liquid ingredients, the dough becomes firmer and drier and bakes up like a dream. The edges are crisp and the centers are soft and chewy. Apparently, according to this New York Times article, that's the chocolate chip cookie ideal.
I don't use gums in this recipe, but if you like using guar or xanthan, you can add a 1/2 teaspoon to the recipe.
You'll need a scale to execute this recipe properly. I use My Weigh KD-7000 Digital Stainless Steel Kitchen Scale.
I use certified gluten-free oats in my baking. To read more on oats and celiac, check out this great reference from Health Canada. Oats ARE gluten-free and are tolerated by most, but not all.
Here's what Health Canada says:
"...the safety/benefit evaluation for the introduction of oats in the gluten-free diet of patients with CD indicates that moderate amounts of pure oats are well tolerated by the majority of individuals with CD and dermatitis herpetiformis.The term "pure oats" is used to indicate oats uncontaminated with gluten from other closely related cereal grains, including wheat, barley and rye as detected using current test methods. Based on clinical trials in the published literature, the amount of pure oats considered within safe limits is 50 to 70 g/ day for adults and 20 to 25 g/day for children."
Enjoy!
Cake and Commerce's Gluten-Free Ooey Gooey Chocolate Chip Cookies
(recipe based on ratios from the New York Times recipe, 7-9-2008)
Combine dry ingredients and set aside:
In bowl of stand mixer or, if you don't have one, in a bowl combine:
Mix until uniform. Add:
Mix until egg is completely incorporated. All at once, add the dry mixture.
When flours are incorporated, mix in:
Once the chips are mixed in, spread dough out in roughly a straight line on a sheet of parchment and roll it into a cylinder.Alternately, individually scoop the dough into 1.25 ounce portions and refrigerate inside a plastic bag. Refrigerate it for at least 24 hours.
Once the dough has been refrigerated for 24 hours (it can spend up to 3 days in the fridge or be frozen for up to a month if wrapped in plastic) you can bake it off.
Preheat your oven to 350.
Place cookies (cut from the cylinder or whole 1.25 ounce scoops) on cookie sheet with about 3 inches of space between each cookie. Press each cookie down and flatten a bit for better baking.
If you are feeling trendy, you can lightly sprinkle the cookies with coarse sea salt (such as Maldon).
Place in center rack in oven and bake for about 10 minutes for a chewy, soft cookie up to 15 minutes for a crisper cookie. Allow to cool completely before handling.
Eat immediately, store in an airtight container for up to 4 days, or freeze cookies.
So let's just say you don't want to eat a plain old chocolate chip cookies. You want something with texture. For you, I have gluten-free Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies, made with certified gluten-free oats.
Cake and Commerce's Gluten-free Chewy Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies
In the bowl of a mixer, combine:
When evenly mixed, add in:
Add the following to the bowl and stir until evenly mixed:
Once mixed, stir in:
Portion out the cookies using a 1.25 oz scoop (small-sized scoop) and place each scoop on a parchment-lined sheetpan. Chill in a refrigerator until hardened. Place scoops in an airtight container and allow to chill for at least 24 hours.
When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Press down and flatten the tops of each cookie. Place on a baking sheet leaving about 3 inches between each cookie. Sprinkle flat sea salt (like Maldon) sparingly on each cookie. Bake 10 minutes for a soft, gooey cookie. Bake up to 15 minutes for a crisper cookie.
Eat immediately or store in an airtight container for up to 4 days.'

Here's my 'scratch' pad. No disrespect intended, Edible Boston.
At 5 pm on Thursday in Cambridge, I indulged in macarons purchased in Paris at Pierre Herme on Monday. They were hand-carried for me by a brand-spankin' new acquaintance who is moving to Belgium in a few months. I can't quite see myself asking him to bring back Belgian beer in his luggage, but who knows.
At Cook Farm, in Hadley, Massachusetts there's a well-known New England treat on hand during the asparagus season: Hadley Grass Ice Cream. For the last 7 years Cook Farm has been selling their Hadley Grass Ice Cream, made with asparagus and whole almonds, out of their Flayvors Restaurant (named for their prize cow, Fayvor) while the crop is available.
In case you prefer your asparagus ice cream-free, Flayvors also sells fresh-picked asparagus, also known locally as "Hadley grass". Hadley once claimed to be the asparagus capitol of the world, a title lost once a fungus called fusarium claimed all of the asparagus in the valley in the 1970s. Most farmers plowed their asparagus under. A few replanted fusarium-resistant hybrids (references here).
Inside the shop is a riot of hand-written signs, including the one for Hadley Grass Ice Cream:
You can't avoid the Hadley Grass once you're inside the shop:
The ice cream is made from the milk of corn-fed (too bad!) cows who live on the farm. Once you get your ice cream, you can take a stroll over to the barnyard and visit the Jersey and (registered) Holstein cows:
A young Holstein:
And a younger Jersey:
The ice cream is smooth, velvety and luscious. Of my companions-in-ice-cream, the Brothers Ritchey Steve and Wade, only one of us (the cowboy hat-sportin' Wade) ordered the Hadley Grass. He loved it. And he let me have a taste. It was a little surprising though not unpleasant. It had the same creaminess of the other flavors I had tasted plus the crunch of almonds and the pleasant perfume of asparagus. You can see the flecks of asparagus (and Wade's teeth marks) in the picture below:
And if you don't like asparagus, the other flavors are great too.
Flayvors of Cook Farm
1 E Hadley Road
Hadley, MA 01035

The noble beast: Lula is 3.5 years old
I've been logging in to my email with just a little more than the usual measure of trepidation these days.
Will today be the day I receive the missive? Will it be a general note to the whole group or something written directly to me? Will I be named, described? No one really knows me at the community garden, but if they said "girl with off-leash black dog who got into the barnyard" it would be pretty clear they were talking about me.
So far, nothing. But I'm not about to bring my dog back to the garden anytime soon. Though dogs are allowed, unruly dogs are not. And 'unruly' would have been an understatement in describing my dog's behavior.
I had the best intentions. I headed down to the garden at 7 pm to plant a few more tomatoes, acquired for half-price at my local farm. Lula, my dog, insisted (as she usually does) on riding shotgun. She's an unusually well-behaved dog . I can leave her in my car, windows completely rolled down, and not be concerned that she'll jump out. I usually find her, upon return, hiding just below the steering wheel. Considering she's a 50 lb dog, this is a feat of remarkable pretzeling.
I left her, windows open, and made my way down to my plot. I smiled at the other gardeners as I walked my plants and trowel down the hill, my bag slung across my chest. And then I felt a sudden wind approaching and watched with horror as that wind, created by the blazing figure of my animal-chasing labradoodle, blew past me and headed for the rabbit hutch. "She doesn't usually do that!" I called out to no one in particular as I dropped my plants, trowel and bag and ran toward her, screaming her name.
She's not difficult to subdue; I merely need to get within 10 feet of her and call in name in deep, rumbling baritone. It makes me sound like a death metal vocalist and has an almost magical effect. She drops to the ground, head down, and, as quickly as she flew out of control, is again obedient and deferential. I'm able to lead her without a leash exactly where I need her to go. But usually, when she bolts, I'm more than 10 feet from her, and my voice becomes too distant to have any effect.
In about 10 seconds I was next to her and she was down. I pointed at her insistently (I do this instead of making any physical contact - it seems to upset her as much) and directed her toward my plot. She came along without looking back toward the barn.
My plot is completely fenced in by plastic green mesh and has the appearance of a pen. Lula wouldn't go in first so I stepped through and beckoned her in. I closed the mesh 'door' after her, which provided the illusion of closure without actually securing her in with me. She wandered the plot and, to my horror, stepped on - or stepped perilously close to - my baby cucumber plants. After pacing each row in the plot, she finally settled into eating the weeds.
I found locations for my new tomatoes. I think I have about 30 plants now, though they look rather pathetic at this point in the season. I dug them in and then watered all the plants. It has been dry in Eastern Mass for the last few weeks, so I've been obliged to water a bit more than I'd like, though I try to avoid using more water than I need. Lula started lapping up the water that pooled in the rows (one of the major problems with my plot is that it sits on the part of the field that floods in the spring and doesn't drain well) and then, once it drained a bit more, she took a seat on the still-wet ground.
After I had finished the watering and weeding, I inspected my neighbors sprouted sunflower bed. It was doing better than I hoped. So I did the unthinkable. Or perhaps, a favor. I thinned the row to just a few plants. It was audacious, but so was the locating of their sunflower row so close to my bed, a practice expressly forbidden by the garden committee.
Satisfied with my act of sabotage, I headed back to the car with the dog. I pulled out my camera to take pictures of the gardens - everyone there approaches things so differently, I thought it would make an interesting blog post. As I focused on the photos, I became aware of a movement in my peripheral vision. I saw, as if in slow motion, my dog suddenly turn and dart back down the hill toward a pack of piglets that had emerged from the barnyard and were making their way toward the gardens.
It was one of those moments. I dropped everything, again and ran screaming down the hill. I could hear the piglets, shrieking. The gardeners dropped their tools to watch the spectacle. My dog made her way around the first barn and I saw her approach the pig pen. The mother pigs are huge - easily over 500 lbs. The last thing I wanted to see was a face-off between an angry mother pig and my 50 lb dog with more bark than bite.
The piglets, shrieking bloody murder, ran into their pen as their mothers and aunts dashed toward the fence, ready to take on whatever was threatening their progeny. From the farm house, where the Red Sox game was blaring, two young farmers materialized, running and screaming at the dog, who, I presumed they presumed, already had her incisors tearing into one of those spoiled, crop-stomping piglets.
I knew the farmers wouldn't catch my dog. My dog has successfully eluded baggage handlers at Logan Airport, causing me to miss my flight. She doesn't particularly like men, either, so I knew the farmers would struggle to contain her but would be successful in driving her away from the pig pen.
When she came back into my view, she was followed closely by the farmers. "Do you need help grabbing her?" they yelled.
"No, no, that's okay." I stuck a finger out and contorted my face into a mask of anger. I was more embarrassed than angry, but I had to give the appearance of anger. "LULA! SIT! NO!"
She immediated crouched down. She turned, fearfully, to look at the farmers. I couldn't even make eye contact with them.
We turned and made the walk of shame up the hill. I could hear the gardeners talking to each other about it. Instead of consternation, they were actually pleased. "She did us a favor," I heard. "Who left the door open to the pig pen? They were coming out to the garden and they shouldn't be out here."
I avoided making eye contact with anyone as I left.
See that picture above? Do you know what is missing? I suppose, given the title of this post, it is rather obvious. But I wanted to clearly make the point: this granola is raisin-free.
And even better? It isn't too sweet or too nutty and it is gluten-free - well, as long as you consider certified gluten-free oats gluten-free (not everyone does).
I've been on a granola bender of sorts lately. A friend dared me to develop a recipe he liked. Given that lately I've had more than a little time on my hands, I took up his challenge with gusto.
I've never made granola before. I never had reason to. I'm not much of a morning cereal eater, and on that rare, blue moon of a day when I actually did crave a bowl of breakfast, I'd just buy Bare Naked Original Granola - until they sold themselves to Kellogg's for $65 million.
But this friend wanted his own custom blend, and he was specific about ingredients. As I jotted down his requested ingredients, I realized we were very simiilar in our mutual dislike of raisins, puffed cereals, and cloying sweet or overcooked granola.
The first recipe I pulled, from a Cook's Illustrated article from 1994, was all I needed to create a baseline 'good' granola. The recipe was more formula than prescription, something that allows for improvisation of all sorts.
The results? Delicious, crunchy granola that was completely unclumpy. Hmm. Had to fix that. My friend had specifically requested 'clumpy' granola.
I ended up trying out 5 versions until we hit upon the correct method/baking time/baking process/flavor/nut-to-fruit-to-oat ratio. The below photo is from versions 3 and 4, where we varied fruit percentage. In the end we went with something right in between.
The one thing I did struggle with was making the granola clumpy. After asking the Twittersphere and getting the same response I'd read in some other recipe ('use wet hands to squeeze granola into clumps" - what? Am I going to spend hours doing this when I have a five pound batch?) I decided to take matters into my own dry hands. Using two sheets of parchment, I pressed down on the granola and placed another tray over it for the first 15 minutes of baking and absolutely NO STIRRING the granola. Results? Perfectly clumpy granola, with some loose oats in there for textural contrast.
Here's the view inside the oven:
Basic Granola Formula with instructions for clumpy granola (adapted from Cook's Illustrated, September 1994).
(Forgive the vagueness...I want to keep my version to myself)
Dry Ingredients:
Wet Ingredients
Fruit
Procedure:
Preheat oven to 275F convection or 300 if using a conventional oven.
Weigh out all dry ingredients. Combine. Warm invert sugar until flowing. Add oil, water (if making clumpy granola), vanilla and stir (oil will float on top). Add to dry ingredients. Stir until completely mixed.
Spread out on baking sheet lined with parchment. Place another piece of parchment on top. apply pressure with your hands to granola to press down. Place baking sheet on top and repeat.
Place in oven and bake for 15 minutes.
Remove top piece of parchment and baking pan (you CAN do this without a top sheet pan, but you'll need to watch it more carefully - the edges will burn faster). Allow to bake until golden, about 30-40 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to cool. Break up and store in an airtight container. Keeps for several weeks - but I promise, it will not last that long.
Keep cool - the fats will turn rancid if temperature fluctuates too much.
To make un-clumpy granola, omit water. Stir every five minutes until golden. Labor intensive but remarkably un-clumpy!
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