Why is it that I’m always intrigued by the most complicated recipes when perusing the cooking magazines that land in my mailbox? This time it was a classic Sicilian Cassata or Ricotta Cake in the April 2011 issue of Saveur magazine that caught my whimsy. I thought that if it was a success, I’d make it again for Easter Dinner.  But why tackle this recipe test alone when your friend is Zoë François of Baking with Zoë and she has invited you to spend the day baking whatever you want in her beautiful kitchen?

On a recent Monday morning I arrived with ingredients in hand, except of course the ricotta that was still sitting in my fridge. After a quick trip to the co-op, we got down to the opportunity at hand. Zoë hung the sheer curtains around her sunny breakfast room to defuse the copious amounts of sunlight streaming in the windows. (Of course, I’m still using blue painters tape to hang mine when I set up my “studio” for blog photos.)

After reading the recipe through several times, we divided it up so that our limited time would have the greatest success. We had barely started when we stopped to admire the farm fresh eggs that my friends, Curt and Paul, had brought from their farm, The Gentleman Farmers, Inc. in Richmond, Minnesota.  They provide Bret’s Table with dozens of these gorgeous and delicious organic, free-range eggs on a regular basis. With eggs admired, we forged ahead only to halt moments later to pay equal homage to the wonderful citrus whose rinds we were about to candy for the decoration on the finished cake.

The Cake:
With the photographs of the eggs and citrus taken, we got down to the business of baking. The cake batter came together quite easily, but the 9-inch cake pan was definitely too small. As it baked, it rose a good 1/2-inch above the rim, only to fall from its own weight as it cooled. Note to self—using a 10-inch cake pan would have worked much better. Zoë’s idea, though, of baking it in a half-sheet pan was brilliant, and the amount of batter called for in the recipe was perfect.

The Marzipan:
We tackled the marzipan, learning from the experience of making it twice. When the recipe calls for using “only enough egg white to form a smooth dough,” don’t let that last bit of egg white dribble into the food processor, as it will become too wet. How does one remedy this mishap? Remove the dough from the processor, process another ½ cup of pistachios and add the “wet” dough in pieces back into the processor, buzzing the whole mixture again. Also there is no need to roll the dough much wider than the rim of the pie pan (or in the case of Zoë’s recipe, a bread pan).

The Candied Fruit and Simple Syrup:
Instead of using the simple syrup called for in the recipe, we used the syrup from the candied kumquats.  Here’s a link to Zoë’s blog to make your own candied fruit.

The Ricotta Filling:
Finding a one-pound container of whole milk ricotta was impossible, and I didn’t find it prudent to purchase a second container for one ounce. Therefore I made an executive decision and decided on fifteen ounces per recipe. After squeezing out as much whey from the ricotta as was humanly possible, we opted for mixing the filling in the food processor, again following the pictures instead of the recipe. The results were very soupy and it was doubtful that it would ever set. Luckily, Zoë had about four pounds of full-fat cream cheese in her fridge. We measured off ½ pound for each recipe, whipped it in the stand mixer and then incorporated it into the filling. At that point it was a perfect consistency.

The Assembly:
I lined a 10-inch pie plate with plastic wrap as I couldn’t find a 12-inch plate called for in the recipe.  Based upon the pictures included with the recipe, we determined that we needed to line the rims of our respective pans with the marzipan before adding the cake strips (again you’ll see when Zoë’s posts her recipe, she’s using  a bread loaf pan). This step was not noted in the recipe itself. We added the first layer of cake slices to the bottom of the pan and brushed them with the simple syrup. We then poured the “altered” filling into the mold and topped it with the second layer of cake slices, brushing them with more simple syrup. Finally we covered it with the overhanging plastic wrap and laid it to rest in the fridge overnight.

Finishing the cake:
The next day we unmolded our respective cakes and poured the glaze (the one component we didn’t change) over the top of the cake. Back in the fridge it went to allow the glaze to set before it was decorated with the candied fruit, sliced and enjoyed.

In the end the cake was as delicious as it was beautiful decorated with the jewels of candied fruit. Since I have enough leftover ingredients, I’ll be making it again for our Easter dinner. If I do say so myself, it will be the centerpiece of the buffet table! And, not to worry blog fans Zoë will be posting her rendition of the cake as well in time for Easter.

Recipe as published in Saveur:

Butter, for greasing pan
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, sifted, plus more for dusting pan
2/3 cup plus 3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon orange zest (organic if possible)
6 large eggs
1 cup shelled pistachios
3 cups confectioners’ sugar
White of 1 large egg, lightly beaten
2 tablespoons Grand Marnier liqueur
1 pound whole-milk ricotta, drained overnight in a cheesecloth-lined strainer, or ricotta impastata
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
Whole candied fruits, such as oranges, apricots, and cherries, halved

Candied citron, cut in strips

Heat oven to 350°
Grease and flour a 9-inch cake pan; set aside. Combine 2/3 cup granulated sugar, zest, and eggs in a large bowl and beat on high speed of a stand mixer until pale and light, about 5 minutes. Add flour and fold to combine. Pour into cake pan and smooth top. Bake until a toothpick inserted in center of cake comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Transfer pan to a wire rack, let cake cool completely, and remove cake from pan.

Using a serrated knife, cut cake crosswise into 1/2″-thick strips; set aside. Line bottom and sides of a 12″ metal pie plate with plastic wrap; set aside.

Process the pistachios in a food processor until finely chopped. Add 1 cup confectioners’ sugar and process until finely ground. With processor running, slowly add enough egg white to form smooth dough.

Transfer dough to a work surface dusted with confectioners’ sugar and knead until smooth. Using a rolling pin, roll marzipan until 1/4″ thick. Cut into 2″-wide strips and line side of pie plate with strips, flattening where they overlap to form one continuous ring; set aside.

Heat 1/4 cup sugar and 1/4 cup water in a saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook until sugar dissolves, then stir in Grand Marnier; set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together remaining sugar, ricotta, vanilla, and cinnamon until smooth, 2–3 minutes; set aside.

To assemble, line bottom of prepared pie plate with cake strips, cutting to fit, and then sprinkle with 5 tablespoons Grand Marnier syrup; place ricotta mixture on top of cake and spread evenly to fill pie plate, smoothing top. Cover top of ricotta mixture with remaining cake slices, cutting to fit evenly, and drizzle with remaining syrup; trim excess pistachio marzipan and then wrap pie plate in plastic wrap and refrigerate until chilled, 2 hours.

Meanwhile, combine remaining confectioners’ sugar and lemon juice in a medium bowl to make a thick glaze. Invert pie plate onto a serving dish and peel off plastic wrap. Pour glaze over cake to cover evenly. Decorate with candied fruits. Refrigerate cake until set, 2 hours or overnight.

Bret’s Table was honored to have Hiroko Shimbo visit for a few days recently.  She was in town to teach classes at Cooks of Crocus Hill.  During her visit, I had a chance to talk to her about growing up in Japan.  She gives her mother much of the credit for her love of cooking and her love for life in general.

Like so many other young girls, her mother taught her not only of the beauty of food, but of its nutritional value as well.  Her father was a surgeon and his clinic and small hospital were attached to their home.  Her mother would cook for the patients that were recovering from their illnesses, so Hiroko spent a lot of time at her mother’s apron strings learning what foods would assist in their healing.

In Japan, young girls are also taught of the importance of the color as well as the texture of food.  They learn how to artfully arrange each food being served on a plate or in a bento box to create visual appeal as well as learn the nutritional balance.  I was sad to hear from her that boys don’t learn these things from their mothers, only the girls in Japan.  I hope that will change with time.  It would have left me out in the cold, had I grown up in Japan.

Stateside, the importance of eating a wide variety of food “colors” is a relatively new idea.  For example, we should be eating dark green vegetables, red fruits, purple berries, etc.  You get the picture.

I was also fortunate to accompany Hiroko to a local Asian grocery store here in town.  As we walked the aisles she pointed out for example, the best brown rice to purchase, which shoyu (soy sauce) I should be using and introduced me to Japanese pickled vegetables.  Gherkins they are not!  After shopping, I spent the evening learning how to make fresh Udon noodles and assisting in the preparation of the television spot on Showcase Minnesota.  After returning home from the TV studio the next morning, we got down to work preparing dinner for those that would be sitting at Bret’s Table that evening.

Inspired by what was ripe in JT’s garden, Hiroko created an amuse-bouche of cherry tomatoes topped with a chiffonade of wilted and seasoned Swiss chard and drizzled with a peanut sauce.

While picking the tomatoes, the abundance of summer squash was staring us in the face, so we decided to make a cold soup using the squash, a little celery root, onions, kombu, and a couple of dollops of brown miso.

Some preserved figs that I had made were in the fridge, so the garnish for the soup was a slice of fig that was sautéed in butter (PastureLand, of course) and a couple of sprigs of leek greens.

For the entrée, Hiroko was recipe testing a variation of a Japanese curry which would take six hours to cook.  It started with a couple of pounds of onions that were caramelized as one would for French onion soup.  Added to them was a roux as dark as chocolate, along with apples, bananas, a lemon as its juice.  To that, shrimp stock and dashi were poured into the pot and it all cooked together for about 4 hours.  There was straining and pureeing and additional cooking before it was the consistency for which she was looking

We purchased a couple of pounds of U15 shrimp from Coastal Seafoods which were seared and laid alongside a timbale of steaming brown rice.  All of these elements were laid on a pool of the curry sauce.  The sauce reminded me of what I might enjoy as part in a gumbo if I were to replace the heat with notes of sweet and citrus.

One of the guests brought an ice chest full of various sakes that we tried with each course.  The more I taste sake, the more I am enjoying the many flavor profiles and nuances.  I will be teaching a Pairing Food and Sake class this autumn at The Chef’s Gallery.  What’s going to be fun about this class is the fact that we will have non-traditional pairings to bring home the fact that sake can be paired with cuisines other than Japanese.  Be sure to check it out and sign up if you’re interested.   Regardless, spend some time in the kitchen and enjoy a meal with a loved one.

During my visit to La Pitchoune this past spring, Kathie and I had many conversations about French culture and their love affair with food.  It was delightful to hear that children in France are able to name the various varieties of, say, strawberries and know the difference, for example, between an early season Gariguette or a mid-season Ciflorette.  And, they can tell the difference by taste.  Unfortunately, here in the States, kids oftentimes are barely taught the difference between a raspberry and a strawberry, much less different varieties of the same fruit or vegetable.

Kathie also mentioned that one year, she was a judge for a cooking competition for elementary school children where the winner was awarded a dinner with their parents at a one-star Michelin restaurant.  Has anyone ever heard of such a competition anywhere in the United States?  If so, please let me and our compatriots know.

Then there was the afternoon where Kevin and I were enjoying a late lunch in the salon of the Ephrussi de Rothschild Villa near Nice.  What a pleasant surprise to see a 10 year old young lady enjoying lunch with her family and eating a salad with a fork and knife with a napkin in her lap.  Here at home, all I hear is, “Kids don’t like…,” “Parents don’t have time…,” “It’s too much trouble to teach….,”  etc.  Then we wonder why we have issues with childhood obesity.  Or we spend hundreds of dollars taking etiquette classes as adults.

I know this one may be a little extreme, but I’d like to get my hands on the DVD about which Kathie spoke on the “proper” way to eat bread in France.  Yes, an hour long documentary not on how to make a baguette, but how bread, in the estimation of a French person, should be eaten.  For example, if there is no bread plate, your piece of bread is set on the table.  One reason is to see how the “crumb” is for the particular bread in hand.  Also, one doesn’t tear off a hunk of bread with their teeth, that is considered boorish.  One takes a portion only as big as will fit in one’s mouth.

Additionally, there’s the whole ritual surrounding the cheese course. This takes place after the salad course and before dessert.  Generally, 3 or 4 different cheeses are served on a platter, each with their own flavor components ranging from mild to pungent.  The choices may include a fresh and aged chèvre, a camembert, and maybe a blue.  One is welcome to taste one or all, but there are two important things to remember.  If the cheese is served as a wheel, it is important to cut a wedge, much like you would cut into a pie.  Also, only take as much as you will enjoy.

Cheese is expensive and not to be wasted.  If the offering on the platter is a wedge, cut your piece all the way down the side and always cut your serving from the same side as what has already been cut.  Under no circumstances should you cut the tip off the wedge.  This is a no-no and a surefire way to get glares from the other guests.  The reason for this is that cheese ages from the outside (rind) to the middle.  Therefore, there are different flavor components throughout the wheel.  If you cut off the “nose,” you have just taken what some would consider the best part of the cheese.  The reason to continue cutting from where the first cut was made is that the entire wheel, wedge,  or pyramid of frommage is rarely eaten during one meal.  Therefore, you want to keep it looking as pristine as possible to serve at tomorrow night’s meal.

Etiquette and rituals are not for their own sake (now I’m sounding like a liturgist).  In these cases, they are in place to show respect to the person who grew the food, prepared, and served the meal.  Rituals surrounding the table also show respect for the food itself.  So whether you are raising a glass of wine or an aperitif, look the person in the eye as you clink your glass and offer a “Santé.”  Oh, and don’t cross arms when toasting, as that is considered bad luck.

We are in the height of tomato season.  These nightshades, with so many flavors, colors, and sizes, can now be found at your neighborhood market, often grown locally.  Even better, seek them out at a farm stand, farmer’s market, or, if you are lucky enough, plucked from your own garden.

Unlike many of our friends, we’re having the good fortune of harvesting a bumper crop of this summertime goodness.  Jon has already roasted four large pans filled to the brim with a variety of tomatoes.  To the roasting pan he added onions, garlic cloves, fresh thyme, oregano, winter savory, and rosemary.

It all went into a convection oven at 375º F for about two hours.  Then everything was run through a food mill, put back in the pan, and continued roasting at 200º F until it reduced to the desired consistency of tomato paste.

If you don’t want to heat up your kitchen, now’s the time to grab your cutting board and tomato knife.  Within five minutes, you can make yourself a tomato salad which is as easy as it is delicious.  The key to the salad is to gild these big boys and yellow pears with a drizzle of really tasty extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar.  Sprinkle it all with a course fleur de sel and freshly ground black pepper.  This is all that is needed to do the trick.  With so few ingredients involved, seek out only the best.

You could also tuck in a couple of wedges of cheese.  On my plate, I enjoyed a Saint Pete’s Blue and a vodka-soaked, nettle-wrapped sheep’s milk cheese from LoveTree Farms.

No excuses about not having the time, as preparing this salad takes practically no time at all.  The tomato paste, on the other hand, takes a little more time, though most of it is unattended.  However, it’s well worth it, come autumn, when you’re making pasta or lasagna.

Umami, the flavor enhancer and fifth taste sensation after sweet, salty, sour and bitter, is now an often heard word in our culinary conversations, but it so often lacks a clear definition and a clear understanding in the cooking community. Though Umami is an attribute of many foods, not necessarily Japanese, it is in the Japanese kitchen where this attribute has been clearly recognized and incorporated into the cuisine.

Hiroko Shimbo, a chef and authority on Japanese cuisine, explores and explains Umami at a special lecture at Bret’s Table.  She will define this taste sensation, describe the food elements in which it is found, and how the concept of Umami is fundamentally related to Japanese cuisine.  With this understanding, anyone who enjoys cooking can be aware of and utilize the benefits and attributes of Umami in their own cuisine.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010, 7:00 pm – 8:00 pm
$25 per person, seating limited to 15 people

Bret’s Table
3617 38th Avenue South, Minneapolis MN

For more information or to sign up for the lecture, contact Bret Bannon.

The latest attempt of Kevin, Jen and me making French Macarons couldn’t have gotten any better.  The lovely and very talented Janan Juliff, The Cake Diva herself, shared the afternoon with us at Bret’s Table.  Not only did Janan give us some excellent tips on making the elusive French macaron, but her husband David also came bearing gifts of imported cheeses, a delicious wine, and homemade lavash on which we snacked during the afternoon.

Our discussions went far and wide, but one that pertained to macarons was our determination that the almond flour from LA Burdick was almost as good as that which we brought back from Paris. I know; call me crazy. Some even say I’m obsessed when I set my mind to something.  In this case, wanting the use the best and at the same time minimizing the potential for failure as much as possible.

Bob’s Red Mill is an acceptable alternative; however if using their product one needs to run it through a medium sieve and/or give it a few turns (with some of the powdered sugar from the recipe) in the food processor, then run it through the sieve. Adding the powdered sugar helps prevent the flour from turning into almond butter, which is not what you want for this application.  Using fine almond flour from the start prevents having to bother with this step.  However, not doing it will result in a macaron with a texture more along the lines of a Pecan Sandie.  Don’t let me stand in the way, though, if you decide to skip this step.  You may come up with the next big idea:  Crunchy French Macarons. For myself, I will continue to bring back the almond flour from Paris and, on the next trip, find pistachio flour as well.

We also decided that from henceforth we will cook the egg whites in the style of an Italian meringue.  This is the way to go!  It makes for a more stable batter and greater success than attempting to use raw egg whites, which would be the French meringue method.  And speaking of egg whites, we discussed the pros and cons of “ageing” the whites.  This is accomplished by leaving them sit in a bowl on the counter for as long as two days covered lightly with food film.  This is said to assist in the evaporation of some of the water in the whites.  My guess however, is that the food safety police would frown on this practice.  I remain neutral on this subject.  For myself, I keep egg whites in the freezer, thaw them in the refrigerator and leave them on the counter to just come to room temperature.

It would also be safe to say that Janan “manhandled” the batter as she was stirring it. However, paying close attention to how the batter fell off the spatula:  stopping at the precise moment that it became “lava-like” as it puddled back into the bowl.

A ½ inch plain pastry tip makes piping the macaron batter much easier.  And, we discovered that leaving them sit on the sheet pan uncovered for a little a 15 minutes works as well as having them rest for an hour.  Jen also discovered a website that suggested baking them right away for shiniest tops.

This is the most success that we have had since our first foray into this crazy idea of making macarons.  Most importantly, however, is that it becomes clearer each time we spend a day in the kitchen that making macarons is as much an art as it is a craft. Plus, we have a greater appreciation when we pay $3 or more in France for some of the exotic flavors. I myself prefer an exquisitely-produced artisanal confection over a king size candy bar any day.

I was reading my Saint John’s University Alumni Magazine recently. In it was an article featuring several undergraduate alumni who are now in the food and beverage business in one way or another.  One entrepreneur featured was Aaron Barthel of Intrigue Chocolates Co., a native of Minnesota, now living and working in Seattle, Washington.

Being a fellow Johnnie, and a chocoholic, of course I had to write and say hello. He was very gracious and sent me a box of his truffles, crafted in the French tradition as his website says.

Arriving in the mail was a lovely silver tin of 12 truffles including two each of Ruby Port, Saint Basil, Jamaican HOT chocolate, Pomegranate, Clove, and Tannenbaum.  All were enjoyable, but I especially liked the Saint Basil with it’s sweet, clean taste of late summer, the Pomegranate which was tart and crisp and the Jamaican HOT chocolate with its sweet taste of honey and spicy hot finish.

Check out Aaron’s website at Intrigue Chocolates Co.

Our friend Joe brought over some Prairie Pride Farm uncured hickory smoked cinnamon bacon he purchased from Grass Roots Gourmet in the Global Market.  I was wary at first, for the mere description caused images of cinnamon rolls to dance in my head.  Of course, the image of cinnamon rolls in and of itself is not a bad thing, mind you.

Contrary to the instructions on the package, we cooked the bacon in a 375° oven for about 20 minutes.  I was pleasantly surprised by the outcome.  The cinnamon flavor is very subtle.  I’ll definitely enjoy more of kind in the future.

Prairie Pride Farm is a fifth generation family-owned farm in south central Minnesota.  Besides clover-fed free range chickens, they raise Berkshire hogs, known for their great flavor and tenderness.  They even offer non-hydrogenated leaf lard, which is difficult to find.  This type of lard is used for tender, flaky pie crusts and I want to try it out in my biscuit recipe some time soon.