Easy Recipes

There are some dishes you want to make because theyre just so pretty. I saw this plum tart from Saveur magazine on the lovely blog Orangette a few years ago, and was drawn in by the jewel-dark baked plums peeking out of the smooth custard. Im generally of the opinion that its hard to improve upon a fresh, ripe plum, but I followed the recipe and threw them in the tart. The baked fruit was lovely, turning richer and sweeter in the oven. But the custard? Not so much. There was only a shallow layer, and it was dense and rubbery, overwhelming the tender delicacy of the fruit. We finished it (I mean, it still had fruit and cream and sugar), but I didnt mark it down as a recipe Id be making again.

Recently plums reappeared in the farmers markets here in the Northwest. I was combing through the internet, looking for things to do with them (theres only so much jam I can make), and came across that tempting picture again. So pretty. So I decided to give it an overhaul, revamping the recipe so that it could deliver on the promise of its luscious picture.

I stuck with the same plums, dusky blue-black Italian Prune Plums. Theyre nice to eat raw, but theyre especially delicious baked. And then I turned to the troublesome custard. I increased the amount, so that the plums would have an ample custardy cushion. I cut out one of the eggs and halved the amount of flour, to give it a lighter texture, and added vanilla for a bit more flavor. The result was lovely. I brought it to my friends with a week-old baby, and they requested the recipe immediately. Any time a new parent would rather spend time baking than sleeping, you know its good recipe.


Plum Custard Tart
inspired by Saveur, via Orangette, but adapted heavily
makes a single 12" tart

1 recipe tart crust (I halved this recipe, which makes two crusts), chilled
~ 1 1/2 lb Italian Prune Plums (the exact amount will vary, depending on their size and shape)
3 Tbsp flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup half and half
3 eggs
1/2 tsp vanilla

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees, placing a rack in the upper third.

Remove the pastry crust from the refrigerator, and allow to soften at room temperature for 5-10 minutes. Roll it out into a round, and press it into a tart pan. Trim off the edges, prick with a fork a few times, and place back in the refrigerator to chill for 10 minutes.

Cut the plums in half lengthwise, and remove the stones . Whisk together the flour and sugar in a medium bowl, and then add a bit of half and half, whisking until its a well-combined sludge. Add the remaining half and half, eggs, and vanilla, whisking until just combined.

Remove your chilled tart crust from the refrigerator. Place the plums in the crust, cut side down, in a single layer. Theyll shrink a bit when baking, so pack them in snugly. Give the custard another whisk to re-mix, and pour gently over your plums. They may float a bit. Place in the oven.

Bake until the plums are soft, and the custard no longer jiggles in the center and is just beginning to brown, about 45 minutes to an hour. Remove from the oven and let cool before serving.

Theres something intimidating about actually meeting people whose work you admire. You spend so much time appreciating from afar, be it music or writing or cooking, and feel a kinship with the artist because their work resonates with you so deeply. You know you must have so many sensibilities in common, and when you meet, this shared bond will just somehow sing across the room. If you dont end up bff, youll at least end up with a real heart-to-heart moment, perhaps an invitation for a drink.

But in reality, it seldom works that way. You finally push forward your book for an autograph, stammer something generic about how "I really like what you do," blush, and melt back into the crowd. Sigh. Occasionally there are moments, such as when you and your friends sneak into the after party for a live taping of your favorite radio show and are invited out for a surreal evening of drinks afterward. But for the most part, its pretty nervous-making and seldom goes the way you rehearsed in your many, many daydreams. Which is all to say I didnt go see Dorie Greenspan when she was in town this week.

For those unfamiliar with her lovely work, Dorie Greenspan writes about baking and French food. She manages to keep an eye on both the smallest details of technique, and the almost incalculably large role of food in our lives. Greenspan is also the woman behind the delicious salted chocolate sablees which I de-glutinized for a recipe earlier this year. And although I chickened out of the live meeting, I continue to worship in my oven from afar. And so I present Dories salted butter break-ups.

These cookies are baked from a single slab of buttery dough, and then broken apart into chunks with your hands (which proves just as emotionally satisfying as it sounds, plus yields a variety of textures ranging from nicely tender center chunks to deliciously caramelized end bits). I usually pooh-pooh people who say they dont have time to make cookies, because cmon, theyre so easy. But as I struggled to finish six quarts of soup and a round of bagel chips for a soup swap, a no-scoop mega-cookie sounded appealing. So I blitzed the dough, rolled it out, painted it with an egg wash and drew a crosshatch of lines with a fork (optional but fun, and strangely reminiscent of high school doodling for some reason), and baked it up. And broke it up. Perhaps next time Ill manage to make it to the book signing as well.


Salted Butter Break-Ups

yields 1 5"x11" cookie, which can be broken into as many chunks as you desire
adapted from Around My French Table by Dorie Greenspan

1 3/4 cups flour
2/3 cup sugar
1 tsp coarse salt, plus more for sprinkling if desired
9 Tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into 18 pieces
3-5 Tbsp cold water
1 egg yolk, plus additional water

Put the flour, sugar and salt in a food processor, and pulse for a few seconds to combine. Add the butter, and pulse until youre left with pea-sized bits (in addition to some small flakes). Pulse the machine and add the water gradually, until it just barely forms a ball (this might not require the whole amount). The dough will be very soft.

Scrape the dough onto a piece of plastic wrap, form it into a chubby square, and refrigerate for at least an hour (or a few days, if needed).

When the dough has chilled, preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a cookie sheet with a silpat or parchment, or grease well. Let the dough soften at room temperature for a few minutes. Roll out (between plastic or waxed paper) into a rectangle thats about 5"x11", and transfer to the prepared sheet.

Beat the yolk with a splash of water, and paint it over the surface of the dough with a pastry brush (or, if youre me, a wadded up bit of the waxed paper you used to roll out the dough). Using the back of a fork, decorate the cookie in a crosshatch pattern by drawing the underside across in one direction, forming a series of tracks, then perpendicular to them. Sprinkle with additional salt, if you favor a pronounced salty-sweet flavor.

Bake the cookie for 30 to 40 minutes, or until it is lightly golden (and slightly dark on the edges, if thats what you favor). It will be firm to the touch, but have a little spring when pressed in the center. Allow to cool to room temperature, then break it as you please, either before serving or at the table.

When I first joined Team Vegetarian, the summer between middle school and high school, I loved mock meats. Loved them. Couldnt get enough. I should remind you of the time: 1990. There werent a lot of options. Saying "veggie burger" didnt conjure up frozen packages of Boca or Gardenburger, or debates between soy- or gluten-based. Veggie burger meant a package of Fantastic Foods veggie burger spice mix combined with a squealchy package of trembling, aseptically-packed tofu. Youd mix them, squeezing it between your fingers, and then pan-fry it into some semblance of solidity. These burgers werent winning any converts.

But at the summertime folk festivals, with their seitan fajita stands and gluten burger booths, you could find something that reminded you of meat. Something that had a savory toothsomeness, and the protein you craved. I ate them every chance I got. And when these products started making their way into grocery stores, I bought them up. I experimented with veggie meatballs, home-made gluten loaf, "notso" bucco, and the like. But the years passed, and I started care more and more about qualities of food beyond how closely it resembled bacon. The mock meats faded away.

Tempeh piccata is something of a holdover from those days. And yet its so much more. Yes, the tempeh is used as a meat substitute, taking the place of the traditional chicken or veal in this Italian dish. But its not really pretending to be meat, no ill-advised soy sauce or nutritional yeast trying to add some umami. The tempeh tastes like tempeh, but fried to a savory crust, and in a deliciously piquant sauce, sharp with capers and wine, deep with mushrooms. I daresay even meat-eaters might enjoy.


Tempeh Piccata
serves 3-4

This makes a fairly saucy version, perfect served over noodles in a bowl. Any leftovers will thicken somewhat overnight. If you prefer a drier version, use only 1/2 cup broth.

8 oz tempeh, sliced into 1/2 inch fingers
1/3 cup flour
salt and pepper
2 Tbsp olive oil (or half olive oil and half butter)
1/2 lb mushrooms, thinly-sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup white wine
1 cup vegetable broth
3 Tbsp capers
juice of 1/2 lemon
1/2 bunch spinach, washed and roughly chopped

Heat the oil to a medium heat in a deep skillet. Season the flour with salt and pepper, and dredge the tempeh fingers until theyre well-coated, shaking off excess. Fry in batches until golden-brown, about 5 minutes per side. Remove from the skillet and set aside.

In the same skillet (adding more oil if needed), add the mushrooms, and leave them there until the liquid is released and evaporates (at which point a nice browning should have occurred). stir, and continue to cook until well-browned. Add the garlic, and cook for a few minutes until the garlic is lightly browned. Add the white wine, allow to simmer for a minute, and then add the vegetable broth, and simmer for several more minutes, until reduced and slightly thickened. Return the fried tempeh to the pan, and season with the capers and lemon juice. Add the spinach, and cook a few more minutes, until the greens are wilted and the flavors have blended. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve over pasta.

Theres a certain comfort that comes from the cyclical rhythms of life. Of doing the same things that youve done in years past, the same thing your parents and grandparents have done. Which, in April, means scrubbing out the dust in a fit of spring cleaning. And baking macaroons.

Ive long been a fan of this version, but was seeking a little variety. And I was smitten with these shaved coconut beauties as soon as I saw them. Pretty little piles, all golden and toasty and perfect. These shaved coconut macaroons follow a similar format to the others, soaking up a cooked-in goo of egg whites and sugar, then baking up into golden crisp edges and sweet chewy insides. Admittedly, these are a bit more toothsome than the shredded version. But sometimes its nice to have a cookie with a bit of chew. And it seems a fair price for all that pretty.

And if you want to move on to Passover appetizers (now that weve taken care of dessert), you can find my rundown of options over at NPRs Kitchen Window — if I may recommend, the deviled eggs with horseradish-orange gremolata are a particularly delicious option. Happy Passover! Happy Spring!


Shaved Coconut Macaroons

adapted from Chewy Gooey Crispy Crunchy Melt-in-Your-Mouth Cookies by Alice Medrich
yeilds ~26 cookies, depending on how you size them

The first day, these cookies have crisp edges and tender insides, but gradually become more tender throughout. If youre making them any time in advance, I recommend freezing them to preserve the texture.

4 large egg whites
3 1/2 cups unsweetened dried flaked (not shredded) coconut
3/4 cup sugar
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
hefty pinch salt

Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.

Combine all of the ingredients in a large metal mixing bowl. Set the bowl over a pot of barely simmering water, and stir, scraping from the bottom, until the mixture is very hot to the touch and the egg whites have thickened slightly and turned from translucent to opaque, 5 to 7 minutes. Set the batter aside for 30 minutes to let the coconut absorb more of the goop.

When the cookies have sat for half an hour, preheat the oven to 350° Fahrenheit.

Scoop the batter up into a heaped tablespoon or scoop, making little mounds on your prepared cookie sheets. Bake for about 5 minutes, just until the coconut tips begin to color, then lower the oven temperature to 325° Fahrenheit.

Bake another 10 to 15 minutes, until the cookies are a beautiful cream and gold with deeper brown edges. If the coconut tips are browning too fast, lower the heat to 300° Fahrenheit. Set the pans or just the liners on racks to cool completely before removing the cookies. Eat, or freeze for future consumption. And a drizzle of ganache doesnt hurt.