Easy Recipes

Like many people, I tend to go for the classics when it comes to sweets. Especially this time of year. I like chocolate. I like vanilla. I like ice cream sundaes and creamy puddings and my neighbors chocolate chip walnut cookies. But, as I recently discovered, I also like black sesame and pear tea cake. Actually, I love it.

I know, it sounds strange. And looks a bit greyish and unappetizing. But its so good! Theres the nutty richness of the sesame seeds, the basic buttery sweet-but-not-too-sweet background, and the juicy bits of pear throughout it all. Although the recipe called for fresh fruit, I used some canned pears from last fall, and they worked beautifully (and the sesame seeds were left in the freezer from these why-havent-I-made-them-since-July bagel bombs, making this a surprisingly thrifty pantry project). Id be the first to admit that this doesnt seem like it would make anyones short list of favorite desserts. But paired with a cup of tea, or a glass of wine (in the interests of science, I sampled it both ways), itll definitely surprise you with just how perfect it is. 


Black Sesame and Pear Tea Cake

adapted from Bon Appetit

Despite the fact that all of the pictures of this cake were somewhat sunken, even those baked up by master bloggers, I was convinced that with my room-temperature butter and eggs, masterful aerating technique, and light-as-a-feather folding, I would prevail with a perfectly domed cake. But I didnt. Ah well — perhaps thats just how this recipe rolls. Its still amazing, no matter how it bakes up.

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1 1/3 cups sugar, plus additional for topping the cake 

Few people know this, but I happen to have been Fox Lane High Schools Biology Student of the Year for 1991. Its not a fact I bust out all the time -- I dont want friends to feel inadequate about their own lack of two-decades-old scientific achievement -- but it represents a small yet significant part of me. I also subscribed to Ranger Rick magazine all through my formative years, and recently took an Anatomy & Physiology class for kicks. Which is all to say that beneath this unassuming exterior beats the heart of a science nerd. So when I heard about the practice of Pi Day, wherein scientists and bakers come together for a deliciously pun-tastic day of pastry on March 14th (Get it - 3.14?), I couldnt resist.

Sandwiched between the heavy pumpkin pies of winter and the first berry tarts of spring, March isnt usually prime pie season. In fact, pretty much the only fruit in season near me is canned fruit. Luckily, Ive got that in spades.

And, because I cant leave well enough alone, I needed to add my own groan-inducing science-themed "humor" to the occasion. I dug up a quart of lightly-spiced canned pears from last fall, which led to thoughts about mathematical pairs. Namely, ordered pairs. Last fall I played around with a pear frangipane tart, with a splay of poached pears pinwheeling on top of a cushion of marzipan-like almond frangipane custard. While my pears dont have the standardized mappable coordinates of classic ordered pairs, they do feature a precise fractal-like placement and beauty (at least until the frangipane puffs around them -- you can go with a thicker frangipane or fewer pears if you want the ordered placement to stand out, but I tend to err on the side of tenderness and lots of fruit).

Some sticklers will argue that with its crumbly-not-flaky patee sucre short crust and straight-sided pan, this would be more accurately described as a tart than a pie. But as its been noted, they are close enough cousins. And Pi Day is not about divisions -- its about bringing us together around a love of math. And pie.


Pear Frangipane Tart (aka Ordered Pair Pie)

adapted from the Pear and Almond Frangipane Tart in Dorie Greenspans Baking: From my Home to Yours (is there anything that book cant do?) with further crust-tweaking from Smitten Kitchen

I used a quart of canned pears, probably about 3-4 pears worth. You can used canned pears, or poach your own using the instructions on this recipe. Four pears is a pretty pear-heavy dessert -- if youd like it to be a bit more like a traditional dessert, use two pears, and make half again as much frangipane (otherwise youll have a gap of empty crust).

Crust:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick plus 1 tablespoon (9 tablespoons; 4 1/2 ounces) very cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces1 egg

Filling and Finishing:
6 Tbsp unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
2/3 cup sugar
3/4 cup ground almonds
1/4 tsp salt
2 tsp flour
1 tsp cornstarch
1 egg + 1 egg white
1 tsp vanilla extract1 1/2 tsp almond extract
~3 canned pears, sliced in whatever fashion you find prettiest

To make the crust:
In a food processor, pulse together the flour, sugar and salt. Add the butter, and pulse until oatmeal-sized pebbles form. Add the egg, and pulse until it just starts to come together (do not over-mix). Turn the dough into a bowl or lightly-floured work surface, and knead until it finishes coming together and seems uniformly moistened. Shape into a chubby disk, cover in plastic, and chill for ~2 hours.

Remove the chilled dough from the refrigerator, and allow to soften for ~5-10 minutes, until roll-able. Place between sheets of plastic, parchment or waxed paper, and roll out until it forms a circle large enough for your tart pan. Press into a greased pan, and pierce (aka "dock") with a fork in a few places. If your tart pan is metal, throw it in the freezer for half an hour. If your tart pan is ceramic, and you dont want it to shatter from going from freezer to oven, toss it back in the fridge. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Remove the chilled crust from the freezer or refrigerator. Butter a tart-sized piece of foil, and press it against the crust (no pie weights required, which is good because you probably dont own any). Bake 20 minutes, then remove the foil and bake another 10 minutes, until the crust is beginning to turn light brown. If any air bubbles form, you can release the air with a fork and push them down. Remove from the oven, and set aside to cool while you prepare the filling.

To make frangipane and finish the pie:
Reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees.

Combine the butter, sugar, almond meal and salt in a food processor. Pulse to combine. Sprinkle in the flour and cornstarch, pulse, then add the egg and egg white and extracts, and process again until very smooth.

Spread the frangipane gently on the cooled crust, and arrange the pears on top in any fashion you like (ordered or not). Bake until the frangipane puffs and turns golden, and feels firm to the touch, ~45-50 minutes. Allow to cool slightly before serving.

Once we age out of wearing pointy hats on our birthdays, most of us tend to not bake up cake for dessert. Cakes are for office parties or weddings. And even on those boredom-killing or celebratory occasions, were hardly looking forward to them. Theyre either too cottony, or too cloying, or favoring tier-supporting structure over delicacy. Its little wonder we forgo the cake entirely, opting for plum-studded tarts, or fudgy flourless chocolate cookies, or ganache-covered macaroons instead.

But oh, this cake. This cake. Essentially, its not much more than your basic genoise — whipped eggs and sugar, some flour and melted butter. But the butter is browned, giving it a surprisingly nutty depth. And then it gets a helping of autumnal pears and bittersweet chocolate. And its perfect.

To be clear, this isnt your standard buttery birthday cake. Its a bit more complex and grown-up, rich with brown butter and chocolate, moist with pears, but still light and just slightly dry (which is where the whipped cream comes in). Its kind of amazing, especially in these pear-heavy days at the end of summer.

And in other news of the transformative power of a quality baked good, I recently had the good fortune to sit in on a challah-baking class, right before the Jewish new year. You can take a listen over at NPR. Lshana tova!



Brown Butter Cake with Pear and Chocolate

from Al Di La, via the Smitten Kitchen (do you know she has a cookbook coming out?)
 
1 cup flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick unsalted butter
3 eggs, at room temperature
3/4 cup sugar, plus another spoonful or so for sweetening the whipped cream
3 pears, peeled, in a small dice (go with pears that are just barely ripe — too soft and theyll sog up the cake)
3/4 cup bittersweet chocolate chunks
1 cup cream

Preheat the oven to 350° Farenheit. Butter a 9-inch springform pan, dust with breadcrumbs or flour, and set aside.

Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt, and set aside.

To brown the butter, place in a saucepan and melt over medium heat, cooking until the butter turns a light brown and smells nutty and delicious (about 5-7 minutes). Scrape the bottom of the pan towards the end of this time, so that it browns evenly without the solids burning. Remove from the flame but keep in a warm spot.

Using a mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, whip the eggs on high speed until pale and very thick. You want to whip them for several minutes, beyond the usual foam, until it thickens and will sheet off the beaters in thick ribbons (more than 5 minutes).

Add the sugar to the eggs and whip a few minutes more.

Just as the egg-sugar mixture is starting to lose volume, turn the mixture down to the slowest stir, and add the flour mixture and brown butter in batches. Add one third of the flour mixture, then half of the butter, a third of the flour, the remaining butter, and the rest of flour. Whisk until just barely combined, then use a spatula to gently scrape and fold in the last of the batter (be careful not to over-mix — though this cake has a hefty amount of leavening, it still gets a lot of its loft from beaten eggs, so you dont want to deflate).

Pour into prepared pan. Sprinkle the pear and chocolate chunks over the top (theyll sink to the middle as the cake sets), and bake until the cake is golden brown and springs back to the touch, about 40 to 50 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean. Whip the cream with a bit of sugar, and serve together.