Alice Medrich’s New Strawberries and Cream (and a quick visit to the bay area)

Hello, everyone. I just returned from a trip to California. I spent a few days visiting my twin sister, Lindsey, in Berkeley and San Francisco, while also getting to spend a nice weekend with some family in Santa Barbara. (You may remember that I take some version of this trip just about every year.) A part of me wishes I would have been the type of blogger that would have updated you with a post mid-trip; but, lo and behold, a greater, more lazy and more wise part of me steers me away from the internet and those nasty little things called computers whenever I’m travelling. So I apologize for the silence around here (sort of, not really).

Anyway, that little trip may have been one of the most memorable vacations of my life so far, but I think I’ll keep most of the personal, cheesy memories and revelations  for myself. I do think it’s appropriate if I share some food-related observation though, don’t you? So, I present to you Amy’s Selective and Superficial Notes on Anything Food (and then some) in the Bay Area (along with some photos, most of which have graciously come from Lindsey’s camera):

1. Tartine Bakery. I know this place is celebrated to no end in the food-blog world, but for some reason, I didn’t think it was that memorable. Lindsey and I stumbled across it while exploring (and loving! devouring!) the Mission district of San Francisco. We picked up a lemon cream tart and a pain au chocolate, and both were alright. I swear the key lime pie Lindsey had waiting for me at her house in Berkeley (this recipe!) was better than that lemon tart. Maybe it’s just a personal preference thing, though.

2. This place, also in the Mission district, had some of the best pizza I’ve ever had outside Naples. (Jeez I sound like a spoiled brat on here, don’t I?)

3. I didn’t see any “gluten-free” this, or “dairy-free” that anywhere. I love that. This is an area that seems to be a bit unconcerned with food trends, and they make things the way they like. Which, in case you didn’t know, is unarguably good.

4. Chez Panisse. Good, good food. I do think I over-hyped it though, in my head. After all, even Alice Waters can’t make food non-food. I think that’s her whole point anyway though. Oh well. Moving on.

5. I learned a new word: bourgy (pronounced boo-gshee). As in, bourgeois. As in, “that whole downtown Palo Alto area is so bourgy.” (True story.)

6. Oh yeah, and how do people not get the fear that they might die while on the BART, sailing under the Bay, in the case of an earthquake? Freaky.

7. As good as food is in San Francisco and Berkeley, nothing can beat your grandparent’s house where they never fail to continually replenish the same cookies in the cookie jar (pecan sandie’s and oatmeal cranberry cookies), and they still have the same box of granola in the pantry that you bought them over a year ago. Food tastes better when it’s around people you love. Maybe that’s what I forgot when I entered Chez Panisse with the expectations that I did.

Anyway, I guess this as good a time as ever to move on to tell you about the recipe I wanted to share with you today. I made this just before I left on my trip, when I wanted to end one particularly hot day with some sort of fresh fruit dessert. This one comes from Alice Medrich, and she calls it the “new” strawberries and cream. She infuses cream with mint, and then melts in some white chocolate. This mixture chills, until you’re ready to whip it up into a whipped cream consistency and then spoon dollops of it over the freshest fruit you can get your hands on. What you end up with is a fluffy cream with the sweetness and body of white chocolate, but with the freshness of mint to cut through any heaviness. It’s a perfect summer dessert, hands down. (By the way, this is coming from someone who, at best, doesn’t really like white chocolate, and at worst, is anti-white chocolate. And still, my verdict: perfect.)

If that’s still a little too much effort for you, you can simply chill the mixture, and then spoon it as is, liquidy consistency and all, over the fresh fruit. This is the way Waylon and I enjoyed it this waythe first time I had it. I not only thought there were definite charms in its ease, but that it was just as pleasent (if not a little less aesthetically pleasing).

It is important to note, though, that this dessert is only as good as the berries you’re using are, so make sure you spend the extra money to pick up some good ones when making this. What you’ll end up with fresh fruit who’s flavor and ripeness isn’t bombarded or covered up, but complimented. Really—I’m not just saying that to justify some sort of “bourgy” summer dessert. It’s definitely good. But most of all, don’t forget to share it with people you love on this last stretch of summer nights.

One Year Ago: Zucchini Cake with Crunchy Lemon Glaze (I need to add that glaze on more things), and Blackberry Buttermilk Cake

The New Strawberries and Cream
Adapted from Alice Medrich’s A Year in Chocolate
Serves 6 to 8

One bunch fresh mint
1 cup heavy cream
6 ounces white chocolate, finely chopped
1 quart ripe strawberries

To make the mint cream, rinse the mint and blot dry with paper towels. Set aside a few mint leaves for garnish, if you’d like. Chop of the remaining leaves to make roughly 1/4 cup, lightly packed. Combine the chopped mint and cream in a small saucepan and bring to a good simmer. Remove from heat. Cover pot and let the mint steep in the hot cream for 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, place the chocolate in a medium, heat-proof bowl and set a strainer across it. Pour the still-very-warm cream through the strainer, pressing the mint to extract the cream. Discard the mint. Stir the chocolate-cream mixture until all the chocolate has melted and it is completely smooth. Refrigerate at least 3 hours or up to 2 days.

To serve, rinse the strawberries and pat them dry. Hull and cut the berries into halves or quarters, depending on what you like. Divide among the dessert dishes. Beat the chilled white chocolate-cream mixture with an electric mixture until the cream stiffens and holds it shape, like thick whipped cream. This should happen pretty quickly, after only a few minutes. Top each dish of berries with a dollop of the whipped chocolate-cream, and garnish with a sprig of mint, if you’d like.

Strawberry Cream Cake

This cake required two pounds of strawberries, eight ounces of cream cheese, a pretty good dose of whipping cream, and cake flour. Believe it or not, I did not just mention that to try and openly display that this cake is not of the most healthy or wholesome sorts. No, I listed out those ingredients—none of which were in my pantry or fridge before the making of this thing—to show that I am somewhat failing at my whole frugal use-up-what-I-have mission.

But! There was a birthday. And not just anyone’s birthday, but the birthday of one of my very best friends, Abbey. I’m kind of big on birthdays, or any sort of holiday really that gives me an excuse to prepare sweets, treats and dishes and to be extra happy for a day. But especially birthdays. I actually have a little spot reserved in one of my notebooks titled “Treats for Occasions & Birthdays,” where I have written out the favorite treats of family members and close friends so I can remember to surprise them with it on their birthday. Sometimes it doesn’t always work out.

For example, did I make my brother creme brulee a few months ago on his birthday, December 28th? No, of course not, I was still reveling in Christmas and preparing for New Year’s! (Sorry, Jimmy.) Will I make the two treats I have planned for my mom and twin sister, both of whose birthdays are right next  to each other next week? Probably not, seeing as I will be stuck in the trenches of finals here in Oregon—not to mention that little fact that it is my birthday too (in case you didn’t catch the “twin sister” part!) in which case I get terribly ego-centric and attention-grabbing. But I still like to plan for them at least, and sometimes my birthday-treat plans actually do work out. Case and point: next to Abbey’s name I had written, Strawberry Cream Cake. So strawberry cream cake there will be, I thought, even if it interrupted my attempts at avoiding the grocery store.

I really ended up liking this cake, and I hope Abbey did too. It’s kind of like strawberry shortcake, only fancied up a little bit in order to be event-worthy. But with the whipped cream piled like clouds on top of the layers of cake and strawberry filling while the sides are left untouched, it still has something of a casual edge to it so that the cake doesn’t seem intimidating or too fancy. A couple of years ago I made this for the Fourth of July, which I think is a perfect event for it.

In terms of how it tastes, it really is like strawberry shortcake…but better. Rather than shortcakes, it’s a chiffon-style vanilla cake that is light and tender, but sturdy enough to handle the aforementioned clouds of cream and strawberries in a cake form. And I have to say this–when these cakes were baking in the oven it seriously sent me into a whirlwind of nostalgia into my childhood when I would smell those vanilla funfetti birthday cakes. That may be a turn off to some people, but oh gosh it smelled heavenly. Anyway, the strawberry component of this part is really parallel to its shortcake counterpart, save the fact that some are left un-macerated for pretty presentation, and the fact that the macerated berry juices are reduced down with Kirsch liqueur to further the strawberry-ness flavor of the filling. I found this part helpful, seeing as the strawberries I was using were not quite peak-of-season quality yet (errmm insert foodie-guilt from not having shelled out the $3 a pint for farmer’s market strawberries). And finally, the whipped cream. Cook’s took whipped cream and fortified it with cream cheese to make the best of both worlds: a strong enough whipped cream so that it can be used on a cake and hold without disintegrating, while still retaining a lightness that can’t be found in traditional cream cheese frosting. It’s awesome and addicting, and I’m not even a “frosting” person.

So yeah, if you couldn’t tell from my heavily praising description above, I think it’s a lovely cake. A lovely cake for a lovely girl. Happy Birthday, Abbey! xx

Strawberry Cream Cake
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated
Serves 8 to 10

I varied a little bit from the assembly of the cake. The cake is suppose to be a three-tiered layer cake, all the layers of which come from the slices of a cake baked in a 9-inch springform pan. I don’t have one of those, so I opted to simply divide it between two 9-inch cake pans, and end up with a two layer cake. I think I like this way better, actually: it allowed me to really pile on the strawberry filling and whipped cream without the fear of running out. That being said, if  you have a 9-inch springform pan, by all means whip this up into a three layer cake–it really is beautiful that way too. Also, Cook’s Illustrated notes that the cake part of this can be made ahead of time, wrapped tightly in plastic, and frozen. Simply thaw at room temperature, unwrapped, for about two hours before continuing with the recipe.

Cake
1 1/4 cups (ounces) cake flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup (7 ounces) sugar
5 large eggs (2 whole and 3 separated), room temperature
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted a slightly cooled
2 tablespoons water
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Strawberry Filling
2 pounds (about 2 quarts) fresh strawberries, washed, dried, and stemmed
4-6 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons Kirsch (optional–don’t use if you have peak-of-season beautiful strawberries)
pinch of kosher salt

Whipped Cream
8 ounces cream cheese, slightly softened (soft enough to beat and make fluffy)
1/2 cup (3 1/2 ounces) sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
pinch of kosher salt
2 cups heavy whipping cream

For the cake, preheat the oven to 325 degrees and adjust the oven rack to the lower-middle position. Butter and flour 2 round 9-inch cake pans (or one 9-inch springform pan, see note above), and line with parchment or wax paper. Whisk flour, baking powder, salt, and about 1 cup + 1 tablespoon of the sugar in a medium-large bowl. Whisk in 2 whole eggs and three yolks (reserve the whites!), the melted butter, water, and vanilla. Whisk until the batter is smooth and thick.

In a clean bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the reserved three egg whites at medium-low speed so that they get frothy and broken up a bit, about 1 or 2 minutes. Increase speed to medium-high and gradually add the remaining three tablespoons of sugar. Continue to beat until soft peaks form, about 2 minutes more. Take one-third of the beaten egg whites and fold it into the batter, to lighten it. Add the remaining beaten whites and gently fold until there aren’t any more white streaks and it’s pretty much evenly mixed. Pour the batter between the two prepared cake pans, dividing it evenly, and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Cool in pan for 10 minutes, then invert cake onto a wire rack to cool completely (it’s necessary!), about 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

Meanwhile, prepare the strawberry filling. Halve 24 of the best-looking strawberries in your bunch and reserve. These will be used to border the layers and decorate the top. In a medium bowl, quarter the remaining berries you have and toss with 4 to 6 tablespoons of sugar, depending on the sweetness and ripeness of your berries. You should have a mixture of a little more than 1 1/2 to 2 cups worth. Let this mixture sit for one hour, stirring occasionally.

Strain the juice from the  macerated berries (should be about 1/2 cup) and heat over medium high heat in a small saucepan with the addition of the Kirsch, if using, until syrupy and reduced to about 3 tablespoons, about 3 to 5 minutes. Meanwhile, put the macerated berries in a food processor and whir them for about 5 one second pulses. Alternatively, like I did, you could simply chop them up best you can with your knife–you’re just looking for a mushy strawberry filling mixture. Pour the reduced syrup over the chopped berries, add a pinch of salt, and toss to combine. Set aside.

When the cake has cooled, place the softened cream cheese, sugar, vanilla and the pinch of salt in a bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Whisk at medium-high speed until fluffy and somewhat light, 1 to 2 minutes. Make sure to scrape down the bowl with a rubber spatula a few times throughout this process. Reduce speed to low and add heavy cream in a slow, steady stream. When it’s almost all the way combined, increase the speed to medium-high and beat until the mixture holds stiff peaks, about 1 to 2 minutes more, scraping the bowl as you go. You should have around 4 to 5 cups–a lot!–and if you’re only making a 2 layer cake like me, you will probably have extra. I’m sure you can find a use for that.

To assemble the cake, Place one layer of the cake on a cake plate and arrange a ring of the reserved strawberry halves, cut side down and stems facing out, around the border of the cake. Pour about 1 cup of the berry mixture in the center (once again, if only doing two layers like me you’ll probably have extra–I’m not saying anything but it is delicious with leftover whipped cream). Spread mixture to cover any exposed cake, but be careful not to extend the mixture out too far so that it will spill over when you add the cream and other cake layer. Next, gently spread about 1 1/2 to 2 cups (or more to your liking) of the whipped cream over berry layer. This is a little difficult, because you want to be sure not to create an incorporated mush of the two parts. Leave a 1/2-inch border from the perimeter of the cake. Place next cake layer down and press gently (!)–so that the whipped cream layer should become “flush” with the cake edge. Add another 1 1/2 to 2 cups of whipped cream and spread to make an even layer on top. (Note: if you’re making the three layered cake, here is when you want to repeat the process of the first cake layer before moving on.) Decorate with remaining cut strawberries. Serve, or chill. This cake is best served the day of, but it’s doing fine holding up in our fridge at the moment, too.