Brownies ... Need I Say More?

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

March 4, 2010

I am perhaps my own worst enemy. No worst critic exists. Okay, perhaps the cousin who I have yet to make the perfect cookie for. And, yes, my father most definitely is. But I look forward to his critiques. He is quite honest and has a very particular palate that is usually driven by his own very particular moods. Without fail he will always tell you exactly what he thinks of whatever you give him. The man has never censored himself and I truly believe he does not possess the gene to know how to. If it tastes like something that would be better served by a pooper scooper then you will know and you will know quickly. He is not like my mother who loves anything sweet and silky and accompanying the description “frosting.” Or not like my youngest brother who will eat anything placed in front of him. Sure, he will have his favorites and you will know because he will request those again and again (this evening an order was placed for my chocolate espresso cupcakes) but otherwise so long as it is passable it is good. That is not good enough for me. Until something passes my father’s inspection then back into the kitchen I must go until it is just right. And when it is just right—my Baklava Redux or my coffee flan—the compliments come quickly.

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Reimagined German Chocolate Cake and Baklava Redux

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

February 20, 2010

The German Chocolate Cake is the same. But I am a lazy baker sometimes and so I didn’t want to put together the traditional German Chocolate Frosting. And, truth be told, I don’t think it looks too appetizing. So the sweetened coconut flakes and some ground pecans went into the cake batter. And instead I put together a mocha frosting for its top. The next time I will try a buttercream or an even lighter topping to sweeten the lighter cake.

A week ago a request was made for an apple pie, which I gladly made, but there remained a good 10 inch diameter portion of patee brisee. Another pie I did not want to make. After visiting Arthur Avenue and producing a bottle of Pistacchi, I opted to bring the flavors I love of the baklava into something less traditional looking and formed. I rolled two long rectangles of the dough, brushed each with melted butter, spread a layer of pistacchio cream on to the bottom layer, topped it with ground walnuts and a blend of sugar, cinnamon, and lemon peel. On top went the other rectangle of brushed dough. The edges folded and fluted, the top scored and seasoned with more walnuts and more cinnamon sugar and into the oven it went. When all was done, and while still on its baking sheet, I poured a simple honey syrup all over and let it soak for a good four hours. Heavenly and divine. And to be repeated.

A Purse Full of Apples

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

February 7, 2010

Apples are sitting on my counter. A trend that sees no end in sight—that is until March, at the earliest. Apples, apart from pears, are the only fruits remaining at the Farmer’s Market every weekend. And because I attempt, as much as possible, to eat or snack on only items I can procure from the Farmer’s Market (or that Whole Foods tells me was at least grown on this continent, or, hopefully, this seaboard) I am only really eating apples. Perhaps the occasional banana gets thrown in but that is only because for me, they will never be seasonal. And a trip to my Grandfather’s house to cut down a couple does not seem to be in the cards for me any bit of tick tock soon.

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Sugarspeak

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

January 25, 2010

A simple term. But now mine. What I call my website (in its current infancy, nothing more than a blog). What I call my little business of baking for friends and family. What will adorn a sticker affixed to each box of delivered treats. For now you can read, if you wish. And comment, as I would love.

Strawberry Hazelnut Bars

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

June 21, 2009

A quick little posting until I can post an appropriate blog. Fresh strawberries purchased at the local Farmer’s Market. A new recipe to try courtesy of “Rustic Fruit Desserts.” Something delectable-sounding and perfect for the picnic I was going to later that evening. Cherry almond bars. The problem? No cherries. No almonds. But I had those fresh strawberries. And a last handful of hazelnuts. A little secret ingredient added for extra kick to the crust and I had my strawberry hazelnut bars. Delicious.

My next journey into a rustic fruit dessert courtesy of the book? The strawberry ricotta tart. Except I plan to substitute again. Stay tuned.

Looking forward ...

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

June 5, 2009

I wrote this last year after making my first cherry pie. I’m looking forward to a similar experience this summer:

Here I am. A city girl. Born and bred in Manhattan and the Bronx. A city girl who rode her first horse in 2000 in Mississippi. Who didn’t see her first cow up close and personal until a trip to California in 2003. A city girl who sat in front of her computer tonight, watching the first season of Weeds, with three bowls in front of her. The first had the cherries. The second for the discarded pits and stems. The third for the pitted cherries. No special tools. Just me, my hands, and the pointed edge of a can opener thrusting through the cherry and removing the pit. My hands covered in the red juice. Splattered all over the floor, my clothes, and dripping over the sides of the bowls. Bits of cherry flesh still taint the unders of my fingernails. My pie is cooling now. Made completely by my two tiny city girl hands. Even if it doesn’t taste like I hope I can sit back, look at the pie, and know I made it from scratch. And I made it for someone. For everyone.

The Soul of a Chef (or a Baker)

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

June 4, 2009

For those of you who have not read “The Soul of a Chef,” I highly recommend you do (and I’m only about 75 pages in to the book). One of the things the author chronicles during this horrendous 10-day Certified Master Chef exam is how all of these chefs--no matter how sick, tired, stressed, or broken--will stand in front of their station, look at their ingredients, start their preparation and all but the beauty and calmness of the cooking takes over. It happens to me every time I step into my kitchen to bake. It happened to me this morning.

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Home remedy

One way to feed a cold

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

May 20, 2009

I am a single gal living in this big bad city in an apartment all by my lonesome with nothing but my kitchen and web musings to keep me company on most mornings and nights. There is nothing wrong with it. I rejoice in it (sometimes). When do I feel alone? When I’m sick.

With the recent publication of “What We Eat When We Eat Alone” or the popularity of books like “Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant,” or the countless movies and television shows and articles about cooking for one, or living alone, or enjoying the life of a single gal in the city, you would think that this entire world is full of nothing but people eating, dining, and living alone. You could also find yourself uttering the words, “how depressing.” I can’t help but think of the scene in “Under the Tuscan Sun” where, recently divorced, she inhales her dinner alone in her kitchen while standing at the sink. Okay, so sitting in my living room, still in pajamas, recovering from a horrible cold, and not being able to think of anything but “Under the Tuscan Sun” to reference is making me think, “how depressing.” Let’s move on, shall we?

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Comiendo Sola

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

May 7, 2009

I can’t recall the last time I ate dinner alone. My job dictates that dinner is gobbled down in the moments between the maestro taking the stage and the complaining patrons at intermission. I am never alone. There is security checking in, ushers at the window, colleagues seated beside me. My evenings off become filled with some sort of activity or interaction so that I am not alone at dinner.

Tonight I was alone for dinner. A situation I am still getting used to after almost a full year in this apartment. But I did not find myself feeling the same melancholy as I have on other nights when I find myself alone. Or on the nights following dinner with friends or family. There is something about the fullness of one evening that makes the subsequent ones all the lonelier.

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Rest in Peace Juicy Juice

From Sugarspeak Baking by Jenny Weber

May 7, 2009

Tart cranberry juice. Bitter. The sort that makes your jaw clench and pucker. Mixed with a bit of Pellegrino. The sort that makes your lips smile.

Yesterday friends gathered to cook together (the baking was done in advance to be the focus of the next cooking challenge). There were salads of cucumber, tomatoes, and feta; another of mixed greens, cabbage, avocado, red peppers, and topped with Goddess dressing. Nothing really part of the living I have been attempting to do for the past year, which is to live off of the produce I can only find at the Farmer’s Market. But sometimes a gal needs a red pepper. Or sometimes a gal needs some tomatoes. And sometimes I have to listen to that gal or she’ll rebel by overdosing on her homemade chocolate chip cookies (because eggs, butter, and milk can always be found at the Farmer’s Market).

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