Bits of summer + blackberry hazelnut galette

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hi! Remember me? The girl who used to blog round these parts? I'm sneaking in with a few photos and a recipe for something tasty and to say hi. Hi! I hope your summer has been grand.

Mine has been very full and very good: recipe writing, live music and birthday celebrations for the books, day trips further into the mountains, evenings spent contra dancing and plenty of coffee shop sitting with friends. I'm feeling nostalgic for it and it's not even gone yet. I can't help but think it's been one of those seasons I'll look back on and think "oh, those were the good ol' days."

 There hasn't been much interesting baking going happening here lately, as I've spent most of my time in the kitchen working on recipes for my book. This galette is one of the few extra things I've baked, and oh, it was good. I made it about a month ago now, with the few handful of blackberries we found, mixed in with some store bought ones. This hasn't been the summer of wild fruit, that's for sure. Hardly any to be found round these parts. I'm a little bit in love with the flavor combination of blackberry + hazelnut + thyme. I'd never topped my desserts with fresh herbs before, which is a shame, as it's really delicious. I'll take herbs with of all my sweets now, please and thank you!

Blackberry Galette with Hazelnut Crust and Thyme

 For the crust:
(from Martha Stewart)

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour 
1/2 cup ground toasted, skinned hazelnuts 
Salt 
2 sticks unsalted butter, cut into pieces 

1/4 to 1/2 cup ice water 

Pulse flour, hazelnuts, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a food processor until combined. Add butter, and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal, about 10 seconds. Drizzle 1/4 cup ice water evenly over mixture, and pulse until it just begins to hold together (dough should not be wet or sticky). If dough is too dry, add more water, 1 tablespoon at a time, and pulse

Divide dough in half, and shape each half into a rectangle. Wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate until firm, about 1 hour. Let stand for 10 minutes before rolling.

 For berry filling:

2 cups blackberries

1/4 cup sugar 

3 tablespoons flour 

3 tablespoons ground hazelnuts 

raw sugar 
fresh thyme

Preheat oven to 400.

Stir together blackberries, sugar, ground hazelnuts and flour in a medium bowl. 

 On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to 1/8 inch thick. Transfer to baking sheet.
Spread berry mixture evenly over the dough to within 2 inches of the edge.
Fold the edge of the dough up over the plums to create a 2-inch border. Sprinkle with raw sugar. 

Bake for about 45 minutes, until the fruit is soft and the crust is browned.

 Allow to cool, serve with fresh thyme.

Honeysuckle Syrup

 Forget memorial day weekend, the scent of honeysuckle in the breeze is the first sign of summer for me. Sweet and floral, it has to be one of the most gorgeous smells of all time.

Last week, my friend Bethany and I were standing in the woods, picking honeysuckle flowers and tasting the sweet nectar and laughing and discussing life and it was one of those perfect moments that don't come along very often. I know that from now on, when I smell that first whiff of honeysuckle, I'll think of that moment.

I'll also think of Bethany and my sister Sarah happily rambling through the thickets and briars and poison ivy with me a few days later when I decided I needed a whole bunch of the blossoms to make up this syrup. You know you've got good friends when they'll put up with plenty of bug bites for your crazy recipe ideas.

Honeysuckle syrup might just be the best thing ever.  It's like concentrated nectar, bottled summertime. I made sweet tea with it and brought it to bible study, and everyone loved it. I can't wait until I have time to make honeysuckle sorbet.






Honey, honeysuckle breeze, and Lord, release my wild soul.

Honeysuckle Simple Syrup

4 cups honeysuckle blossoms, lightly packed
water
sugar

Place blossoms in a bowl, pour over just enough boiling water to cover them. Cover, and let sit on the counter over night, up to 24 hours.


After steeping the flowers (they will look totally gross and brown, but smell amazing), strain the liquid into a large bowl, discarding the blossoms. Measure the liquid and place into a large saucepan. For each cup of water, use one cup of sugar.  Bring sugar and water to a boil and simmer until the sugar is dissolved, 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool completely. 

The syrup should keep for up to a month in the fridge.

Appalachian Spring & Strawberry Balsamic Black Pepper Jam

 

 Spring is here full force in the south, glorious and green. I'm making the most of the bounty it brings by standing over my stove and making far too much jam. Last week it was this sweet-savory strawberry balsamic. It's lovely on an english muffin with few strips of bacon.  I'm trying out rhubarb vanilla today, fingers crossed it's just as good!

Strawberry Balsamic Black Pepper Jam
Adapted from Epicurious

4 cups strawberries, chopped
3 cups sugar
5 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 1/2 teaspoon cracked black pepper
 
 In a small heavy saucepan bring all ingredients to a boil, stirring, and skim surface. Simmer mixture, stirring and skimming foam occasionally, 15 minutes, or until thickened and translucent. Remove pan from heat and cool preserves completely. Jam will keep, covered and chilled, 1 month. 

Carrot Cake with Honey Cream Cheese Frosting + A Cookbook

When I sat down at my kitchen table one night in November of 2008 and started honey & jam, I had no idea what I was doing. I was a directionless 18 year old in need of a creative outlet. Real talk: I was a bit of a mess.

I started baking things and taking photos, posting them here, even though I was sure no one would ever read it. I hadn't baked much before, and hadn’t taken photos in years, but the more I did it, the more I loved it. One day, I realized “hey, this is my thing!”.

And now, 4 years later? I’m still a mess, but I know what I love to do, and by what feels like a crazy stroke of luck, other people love what I do too, and I’m going to get to share it with you in a new way. I’ll be spending the next year writing & photographing my own cookbook! How crazy is that?!

The book, tentatively titled Farm to Cake, to be published in the Spring of 2015 by Stewart, Tabori & Chang, will be full of cake recipes, all using seasonal fruits, veggies and herbs, and, of course, plenty of photos! I cannot thank you all enough, for reading this little blog and for your kind comments & emails. I know everyone says this, but believe me when I say it’s true, without you all, this wouldn’t be happening. It also wouldn’t be possible without my friends and family, who are my faithful supporters, encouragers & taste testers and put up with my emotional ravings about cake disasters. And of course, a huge thank you my book agent, Holly Schmidt.

 

I made us cupcakes to celebrate - simple, tasty ones, which just might find themselves in the cookbook. The frosting is what makes these special, the honey flavor comes through strongly and pairs so well with the spiced carrot cake.

 Carrot Cake with Honey Cream Cheese Frosting
makes one 2 layer cake or 24 cupcakes

I made cupcakes, but this recipe would make a great layer cake too. If you go that route, just use 2 9-inch round cake pans and bake them for 30-35 minutes.

For the Cake:
2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
2 cups dark brown sugar, packed
1 cup vegetable oil
4 large eggs
3 cups grated carrots (about 6 large carrots)
1 cup pecan halves, plus more for garnish

For the frosting:
2 8 ounce packages cream cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
2/3 cup honey
1/2 cup powdered sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line 12 muffin cups with paper liners.

 Spread read pecans in a single layer on a baking pan and toast them in the oven just until they become aromatic, about 6 minutes. Roughly chop and set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon and ginger.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat sugar, oil and eggs until well blended. Add in flour mixture, beat until just blended. Stir in carrots and pecans. Divide batter among muffin cups. Bake until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean, about 20 minutes.

While cupcakes are cooling, make frosting. In the bowl of an electric mixer, Beat cream cheese, butter and honey until light and fluffy. Add in powdered sugar and beat until you reach desired consistency.

Frost the cooled cupcakes and sprinkle with chopped pecans.





Oh! And while I'm announcing exciting things, I recently had the honor of being featured on Savuer's "Sites We Love". You can see that here.

                          

beauty & terror & apple skillet cake with rosemary crumb

"Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going.
No feeling is final."
Rainer Maria Rilke

This process, the one of growing up, it's hard. You don't know the right decisions to make - you've never done this before. Trying to create a career, or to even figure out what you want that career to be, meeting new people, becoming a full, interesting and interested person, to fill your life with good things and keep going through the beauty and terror can feel so overwhelming.



 It's stopped me in my tracks for a while. The little fears, ones that go something like this: "what if people don't like what I do anymore?" "what if this blog post isn't as good as the last?" "what if they don't like what I have to say?", they started getting to me. I forgot that those feelings weren't final. I dealt with them as I'm apt to do - I ignored them and stopped moving.

I came across the quote above from Rilke the other day; I had read it before, but this time it took my breath away. Let it happen. But keep going.



I wasn't letting it happen, I was pushing it away. I was trying to pretend it didn't exist and also letting those feeling be final. But I realized you have to live these things out, the beauty and the confusion, to change and grow. You have to keep moving. I'm working on that.




Apple Skillet Cake with Rosemary Crumb
Apples and rosemary are often paired together with pork, but they work really well in sweet dishes, too. This cake is so simple and tasty, the earthiness of the rosemary really makes it.

For rosemary crumb:
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup light brown sugar
pinch of salt
1/4 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes
2 tablespoons roughly chopped rosemary
1-2 tablespoon water

For Cake:
1 3/4 cup all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/3 cup salted butter
1 cup light brown sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup whole milk
1 cup apple, diced

Preheat oven to 350. Butter a 9 inch cast iron skillet.

To prepare crumb topping: Combine the flour, sugar, salt, butter and rosemary in the bowl of stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Combine on low speed, until it becomes the texture of coarse crumbs, add in water and mix until crumb comes together. Set aside.

To prepare cake: In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder and salt. Using a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, cream butter and sugar together, on medium-high speed for 3-5 minutes, until light and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, scraping down the sides of bowl after each addition. Stir in vanilla. Add in the flour mixture in 3 additions, alternating with the milk. Fold in the apples.

Pour mixture into prepared pan and sprinkle crumb on top.

Bake for 40-45 minutes, until lightly golden and firm to the touch.

of apple orchards and pie parties.

I consider myself lucky to live in the place I do. I'm surrounded by beauty - mountains, rivers, trees and good, generous people. There's an apple orchard not too far down the road, and when I received an invitation to visit, to explore, I knew it was something I couldn't pass up.

Luke at Mountain View Orchards is one of those good people. We stomped around, stepping over the high grass and fallen apples, taking in the last of the days sunlight, shining and glittering around the trees, apples heavy on their branches, their scent perfuming the air. He told me all about the orchard in a way only a man passionate about a place can. Not all fact, but feeling.

 

He lamented that the old variety of apples, the tasty, imperfect sort, were being passed over for the shiny, flawless-on-the-outside, less flavorful varieties. He told me about his passion for Appalachian culture, and we agreed that this, growing real things in a place they are meant to be grown, is far more interesting and cultural than the new Starbucks in town.  All while we snacked on apples, freshly picked. It's a truth universally acknowledged that fruit plucked straight from the tree just tastes better.

Luke sent me off with a basket full of apples we'd picked, and I came home with a plan. A pie plan. As much as I love this place I call home, I also love this community, this microcosm we call the food blogging world. It's full of the same sort of good people. People like Stephanie, Beth and Sarah, who, when I sent out a tweet about needing pie, all understood and excitedly passed emails back and forth about a virtual pie party.  Ladies, I cannot wait to sit down and share a slice with you one day.

 

This pie is bare bones, as simple and stripped down as possible. It’s just apples, sugar, salt, and a bit of brown butter. Not even a dash of cinnamon. These are the sort of apples my autumn daydreams are made of and I wanted them to shine. It's best served up with a side of The Avett Brothers (particularly this track and this one) - their new album has been my constant companion since it's release, and was playing as I baked this up. Be sure to check out Sarah, Beth, and Stephanie's posts for their lovely pies & music picks.

  

 Brown Butter Apple Pie

pie crust (crust recipe from Martha Stewart):

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, chilled and cut into small pieces
1/4 to 1/2 cup ice water

In the bowl of a food processor, combine flour, salt, and sugar. Add butter, and process until the mixture resembles coarse meal, 8 to 10 seconds.

With machine running, add ice water in a slow, steady stream through feed tube. Pulse until dough holds together without being wet or sticky; be careful not to process more than 30 seconds. To test, squeeze a small amount together: If it is crumbly, add more ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time.

Divide dough into two equal balls. Flatten each ball into a disc and wrap in plastic. Transfer to the refrigerator and chill at least 1 hour.

Filling:

6 medium-large apples, I used granny smith, peeled, cored and sliced thinly
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons flour
5 tablespoons butter

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. On a lightly floured surface, roll one disc of dough into a 12-inch round, 1/8-inch thick. Fit into a 9-inch pie plate. Set aside in the refrigerator.

In a pan, melt butter over medium-high heat and cook until it begins to brown, it will smell nutty and fragrant.

In a large bowl, combine the apples, brown sugar, salt, flour and brown butter. Pour into pie plate, mounding in the center. Roll second disc of dough into a 12-inch round, 1/8 inch thick. Wet edges of the crust in the plate, then lay dough on top, pressing at edges to seal. Cut vents into top crust.

Place on a parchment paper lined baking sheet. Bake at 400 for 15 minutes, until crust is browned at edges. Turn oven down to 350, bake for another 40-50 minutes.

oh my darling muscadine

There was a fine drizzle of rain as we walked down the dirt road that runs in front of our house, looking for the muscadines that grow wild this time of year.



The vines were tangled high in the evergreen trees, we stood up on our tiptoes to grab handfuls, tumbling them into our basket. Their colors vary from nearly black to the prettiest shade of purple I've ever seen.

Muscadines are so fragrant, deep and rich, vaguely winey. I brought them inside, cut them open, and set them to simmer down into a syrup, the scent filling the house, lingering in every corner.

 

My mom has been telling me about her grandmothers muscadine jelly since I was a little girl. She waxes poetic about the sweet stuff, but I never had the chance to meet my great-grandmother, or taste her jelly. As I was standing over the bubbling pot, I felt connected to this woman I never met. It's funny (and wonderful) how food can do that.



I didn't have quite enough juice to make jelly, so I decided on a syrup, ruby red & sweet. It'd be great over biscuits or pancakes, even ice cream. I stirred a spoonful into a cup of hot black tea. Next time I'm going to turn it into muscadine sorbet.



Muscadine Syrup

1 cup muscadine juice*
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice

To release the juice, cut open your muscadines and place in a stock pot. Fill pot with water, just covering the muscadines. Simmer for 15 minutes, mashing occasionally with a potato masher. Pour fruit through a mesh strainer, pressing hard on the solids, (I then placed the skins in a lemon juicer, to extract as much juice as possible), into another stock pot. Add sugar and lemon juice, and bring the juice to a boil, then allow to simmer. Cook until it coats the back of a spoon. Pour into clean jar. Can be kept in the fridge for up to 2 weeks.

*You want equal parts juice & sugar. If you have more/less juice, just add the same amount of sugar. I started with about 4 cups of muscadines and got 1 cup of juice.