Cake and Commerce

Recipe: Gluten-free Chocolate Chip Cookies

Yes, this photo shows gluten free cookies. They do really come out like this. Undoctored by photoshop.

It was a total disaster, or, at least it was at first. I followed my absolute favorite recipe for chocolate chip cookies (from the Village Baker's Wife by Gayle Ortiz et al) and made the assumption that my gluten-free substitute (a random combination of tapioca flour, brown rice flour, and garbanzo and fava bean flour) would actually mimic the wheat flour called for in the recipe.

Here is the first test batch. Ugly photo is intentional:

The starch matrix, unfortunately, did not even come close to a 3rd rate imitation of flour. So I added more tapioca flour. And baked. And added more tapioca. And baked. And added more tapioca. Finally, after added about 1.25 more cups of tapioca flour, the cookies looked like this:

Ah! Solution! They were crispy yet chewy.  And even the slightly-too-savory note that comes from the garbanzo/fava flour mixture was mostly eliminated by using significantly less in the gluten-free flours combination. Here's the recipe that worked (I think):

Gluten-Free Chocolate Chip Cookies

Preheat oven to 350F

8 oz butter
3/4 C granular sugar
1-1/4C firmly packed brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (or just a little less)
3/4 C Garbanzo/Fava Flour
1-1/2 C Brown Rice Flour
2-1/4 C Tapioca Flour
2 teaspoons Baking Soda
1-1/4 teaspoons Baking Powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2-1/2 C Chocolate Chips

Method:
1. Combine Butter and sugars in bowl of mixer and cream until thoroughly combined (not fluffy! This ain't no muffin batter....)
2. Add two eggs. Mix until combined
3. Add vanilla extract and salt (I always combine my salt here because I like it integrated into the dough, not crystalline, which sometimes happens when it is added later).
4. Sift together flours, baking soda, and baking powder. Add to butter/sugar/egg combo in bowl. Mix together very slowly.
5. Fold in chocolate chips. If it still feels wet, add in about 1/4 cup of tapioca flour. Keep adding until it feels less tacky and slightly more smooth, like you could roll it out into a cylinder and it wouldn't turn to mush)
6. Portion out into small sphere. Press the sphere down before baking.
7. Bake in center rack of oven for 9 minutes. After 9 minutes check to see if it has started cracking. If it has not, give it one more minute. Do not overbake as the cookies will become crispy rather than chewy.

Good Luck!

Cookbook Monday: The New York Times Cookbook

The very first cookbook I ever owned was a dog-eared copy of the New York Times Cookbook, one of the best 'basic' cookbooks for people who are new to cooking or have more enthusiasm than skill. My mother had worn out the binding of her copy as she made her way through the chapters over the years of my childhood. She gave me a copy - my own pre-Molly O'Neill-edited version, circa 1961 - when I went to college.

Originally published in 1961, The New York Times Cookbook  was compiled by Craig Claiborne, who, along with Julia Child, James Beard, and Richard Olney, was the vanguard of American food in the 1950s and 1960s and 1970s. The 1961 edition features recipes that represent childhood to anyone raised in the 70s and 80s - there are 'international' dishes like Tempura and Sukiyaki and Gazpacho, cocktail fare like Rumaki, pate, and step by step instructions for baking break, making croissant, and mixing cocktails. It is as much lifestyle tome as it is a how-to for curious cooks.

I don't know how much there is to say about The New York Times Cookbook, but, like Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child and Simone Beck, it has had a profound influence on my generation - either because our parents used the book or it was one of the first books we owned. It is a classic cookbook that everyone should own, much like the Joy of Cooking or any of James Beard's cookbooks.

The 1990 updated New York Times Cookbook includes more contemporary recipes, though fans of nostalgia will miss some of the 'old fashioned' dishes our moms prepared for holidays during childhood. I won't be updating my 1961 edition anytime soon.

Cookbook Monday: Cooking With Shelburne Farms

Have I ever mentioned to you that I spent two years of my life in Vermont, while I was a student at New England Culinary Institute? Actually, that's a bit of a lie. I only spent a year, cumulatively, in Vermont, but winters have a way of slowing down time, and I can still remember my frozen breath, my crystalline eyelashes, the endless cold that pierced my warm, scarf-covered intentions.

I spent the summer of one year at the Essex Junction campus, close to Burlington but just far enough away from Shelburne Farms to make it inaccessible, but for special occasions, like the visit of my parents. Other students spent internships at Shelburne Farms, using cheese from the dairy, vegetables and herbs from the gardens, and meats from other local farms. A meal at Shelburne Farms, a former Vanderbilt Estate and current land trust and working farm, was elegant and expensive. It wasn't particularly exciting cuisine, but it was made from great ingredients, minimally prepared.

The drive through the gates of Shelburne Farms took my breath away. Cliched though it sounds, there's nothing like driving through a gate - a beautiful one, but a gate nonetheless - and see a working farm opening up in front of you, with buildings recalling teutonic castles, and a landscape reminiscinet of the Rhine, with spectacular Lake Champlain in place of the river.

The cookbook, appropriately, is folksy and approachable. There are only about 24 color plates with fairly old school photography and art direction (read: props in the background, full focus, very little 'porn'). The font is large and easy to read. The recipes are fairly simple, seasonal, and classic. There are folksy profiles of individuals who work at Shelburne Farms and others who provide game, wild foods, etc, true to the full title of the book: "Cooking with Shelburne Farms: food and stories from Vermont".

The chapters are a departure from traditional cookbooks. Sections are broken out by vegetables, fruits, meats and fish, milk and maple syrup - foods local to Vermont. Chapter from from Savory Milk and Cheese and Savory Maple to Sweet Milk and Sweet Maple, with just about everything else in between. There's a chapter on spring and summer greens, root-cellar vegetables, wild mushrooms, lamb, game and fish, pork, and apples.

I can't really fault this cookbooks its simplicity or retro look (the font, the bound cover with a pasted on front and back instead of a jacket) as it reminds me very much of the menus we put together at NECI. The recipes are comforting and crowd-pleasing. Who wouldn't be delighted to chow down on pub fare like Shepherd's Pie with Caramelized Onions and Cheddar Smash (p 99), Scalloped Potatoes with Mushrooms and Canadian Bacon (p 118), Orange-Yogurt Coffee Cake (p 236), washed down with Rhubarb-Citrus Tonic (p 74).

Designer Donuts, the new cupcake?

Is it too soon for donuts? (or, is it doughnuts?)

After Krispy Kreme decimated the country with its light, airy donuts that inflamed passions with resulting donut burnout, is it too soon for donuts to stage a comeback?

On the west coast, artisan & "designer" donuts are popping up at Farmer's Markets (Staccato Gelato's donuts in Portland are great) and at shops like Fritelli's in Los Angeles. Is there room in other US cities for similar stands and shops?

Oh yeah!

I love the copy from the Fritelli's web page:

"Alison Winston, owner and founder of Frittelli's, has created a unique line of designer doughnuts for this Beverly Hills hotspot. Frittelli's choreographs textures, shapes, colors, and sizes to provide the "perfect doughnut." "

Ah...a Fritelli donut...like a dance, but edible. I wonder, though: do "designer" donuts have tons of calories and fat? Does it matter?

Yesterday, Betty Turbo and I tried our hands at making "artisan" donuts. I started out the morning by whipping up a few jams for filling - an apple pear and a strawberry apple (I used McIntosh for pectin). I pulled out The Joy of Cooking, which, of my 30 or so sweet goods cookbooks, is the only one to have multiple recipes. I made up about 4 recipes - a yeasted sweet potato that tasted terrible and didn't rise, two baking soda recipes that I modified with ingredient changes (including making one gluten-free), and an Alton Brown yeasted dough recipe that was unnecessarily complex so I simplified it. I figure that if he and I went to culinary school together (we did), I am certainly qualified to adjust one of his recipes that contains way too many steps (it did).

The Joy of Cooking basic dough recipe - made with 4 teaspoons of baking powder - was perhaps the most successful. Replacing vegetable shortening with butter made a huge difference in flavor. I found that organic pastry flour, made with whole grains, made lousy donuts. I did replace some of the granulated sugar in one of the recipes with honey, which still tasted great. I used yogurt in any recipe that called for buttermilk or sour cream - again, it tasted great.

Of course I forgot to take pictures of the process. This morning I pulled out the camera and finally took some pictures - a jelly donut, above, and a plain donut with lemon glaze, below. I'm going to bring these to a party. Before I do so, I'm going to dust them again with confectioner's sugar. Mmmmmm. And come winter, I'll try these again. The humidity took a toll on the sugar, dissolving it quickly.

Cookbook Monday: Eric Kayser's Sweet and Savory Tarts

Tarts intimidate most bakers I know. Perhaps it is the requirement that some tart shells be blind baked before filling, perhaps it is the delicate nature of the tart dough. Perhaps it just seems too complicated, too advanced, too time consuming.

Eric Kayser, a 4th generation baker (a fact revealed in the book description, the introduction, and just about any where M. Kayser's name is mentioned), has put together a marvelously simple, easy-to-follow cookbook that reveals the secrets - and simplicity - of making great tarts.

Usually when I see a cookbook like this, where the author's name is larger than the name of the book, I'd have something sassy and mocking to say - I don't really care for cooking celebrities. But Eric Kayser is not yet a household name here in the states, despite the presence of three of his baking ventures in the Los Angeles area. And this cookbook, published by Flammarion, is more an exercise in enthusiastic tart how-to than it is an exercise in culinary posturing, which is often the case with celebrity cookbooks.

There's no goofy introduction here, no mention of 'authentic French baking' (thank you, chef). Kayser is first and foremost a baking evangelist, spreading the gospel of good bakery items through his bakeries in France, Japan, the US, Greece, Lebanon, Russia and the Ukraine. Kayser doesn't affect an attitude in his introduction, rather he soothes and reassures the reader that his rustic tarts and their enjoyment are simple and enjoyable, both to make and eat.

The first chapter is the most essential, and many baking enthusiasts will be delighted by the easy step-by-step instructions for making and using various tart doughs. Organizationally, this chapter could not be easier to use. Under each recipe is a photo and the name of a tart recipe, along with the page on which the recipe appears.

Recipes range from the mundane to the fanciful. There's a Normandy Apple Tart, a blueberry tart, a chocolate hazelnut tart. But then there's a salted caramel tart, a pink caramelized almond tart and various savory tarts including an onion and sausage tart with beaujolais wine. If anything, this cookbook demonstrates that an enthusiastic and ambitious home baker can put anything into a tart, and the results will be almost always delicious.