Categories
Cakes desserts for two Fancy Pantsy Grown Up People Desserts Holiday desserts

My Cup Runneth Over With Molten Cake Stuff, My Phone Runneth Over With Pure Nonsense

I am a special case of something special sometimes. Normally I’m on here either complaining about the weather or putting hexes on Stamos, but today I thought I’d do something a little differently, a bit more masochistic, and basically embarrass myself for your amusement and/or case study. Behold.

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The above is a snapshot of a text I sent the other day to my boyfriend, who decided to make plans to be out the ONE NIGHT I FIND A DAMNED RAT IN THE APARTMENT. Superhero that I am, I promptly screamed, grabbed a bag of Oreos, and holed up in the bedroom. Before you ask, no, I did not desperately grab the Oreos as a means of sustenance because there was nothing else in sight. I had a choice between Oreos and a bag of grapes and I made the obvious decision to stress-eat delicious sandwich cookies whilst texting out rat emojis like a madwoman. I fully own all of this.

Those of you with souls might be wondering what happened to the rodent. Well… WHO CARES YOU GUYS?! Ok, fine, it’s gone. Jimmy insists it was probably so terrified of the giant brown baby scampering away from it that it ran BACK into the hole in the radiator. BACK?! HOLE?! He said this as if it were the most common occurrence ever. “Oh, yeah, sometimes baby mice (yes, fine, it was just a baby mouse, BUT STILL WTF MOUSE GUYS) live in the heating vents. He probably went back into his little home once he realized that I’m a neat freak and you eat everything in sight, so no crumbs for the little guy.” Home?! Little guy?! What is this magnanimous nonsense? Why is he talking as if this were the most normal thing in the world? Is it? Fellow city dwellers, do ya’ll just have a band of merry mice parading through your radiators, eventually popping out in the hopes that you don’t use plates when you eat things? Be on alert, guys. This could get real.

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This second series is from a couple of mornings ago, when I was stuck on a stalled F train for half an hour and had basically completely cracked. Note the two-word response from my poor, perpetually concerned boyfriend. I know I wrote like three paragraphs about the rat thing and can only share a couple of sentences on this but, a. that’s basically as much as I am willing to talk about with this text bonanza, because I am still sort of silently crying to myself because some variation of this happens every.damned.day. on my commute and, b. this is all already enough for your dissertation. Get that degree, homie. Go forth and prosper.

So, texts like those are pretty common for Jimmy. In the beginning of our relationship, he frantically answered almost every one pretty quickly, but now he knows to just allow me some private time to cry to power ballads and self-medicate with chocolate. Also, while I was typing that paragraph, he decided, on a whim, to run downstairs to check on an elderly woman who lives directly below us, since our building has been doing renovations in some black hole none of us can find, and said renovations involve noxious fumes. He did not know this woman previous to this visit, he was just concerned about a complete stranger. That complete stranger could have been a serial killer, or an MTA Fat Cat! What a guy. A guy like that? A guy like that deserves cake. His own personal cake.

Molten Dulce de Leche Cake (makes two individual cakes)

(adapted from Bon Appetit)

4 teaspoons of all purpose flour

1/2 cup of dulce de leche, store-bought or homemade (see below for one recipe)

1 egg, beaten

1 egg yolk

For dulce de leche, preheat your oven to 425ºF, and pour one 14 ounce can of sweetened condensed milk into a small baking dish. Cover with aluminum foil and place dish in a larger dish. Fill the larger dish with water until water comes halfway up the sides of the smaller dish. Place in oven and cook for one hour, or until the milk is a deep brown color. Remove from the oven, whisk lightly, and then allow to cool slightly. Transfer to a heatproof jar or container and cover tightly. Refrigerate if not using immediately. This recipe will make one cup.

Highly recommend using any leftover dulce de leche on ice cream, in sandwiches, or on any utensil you can reach. Don't judge.
Highly recommend using any leftover dulce de leche on ice cream, in sandwiches, or on any utensil you can reach. Don’t judge.

For your cakes preheat oven to 425ºF and generously butter and flour two 4-ounce ramekins and set aside on a rimmed baking sheet. Using a mixer on medium speed, beat egg and egg yolk together until doubled in volume and the eggs begin to ribbon. Add in dulce de leche until completely blended, then add in flour one teaspoon at a time.

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Divide mixture between ramekins.

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Place ramekins on baking sheet in the oven and bake for 12 to 14 minutes, until cakes have risen and are golden brown. You can either run a knife around the edges of the ramekins and invert onto plates, or simply serve them in their ramekins (which is what I did), but definitely serve them warm.

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You’ll notice that the cakes are accompanied by a glorious-looking milkshake. I would provide the recipe, but it’s basically equal parts vanilla ice cream, milk and bourbon. Yes, I said equal parts. No, I don’t remember much of the rest of the night.

SONY DSCSo, um, yeah. Yeah. YES. YES these were absolutely perfect. They were better than I ever could have hoped they would be. Absolute perfection straight from the oven. Make these for anyone who tolerates your complicated, panicky, strange self with nothing but love, and make them immediately.

Categories
Doughnuts Easy Baking No-Bake Recipes

Sad Shibow: An Unexpected Journey (That Ends With Fritters)

Um. It’s still cold.

That’s about as far as I can take it. If you live anywhere that isn’t south Florida or San Diego, you have stared at the single-digit temps on your various weather apps/televisions and cried in despair, I know. I have too. Actually, it’s pretty ignorant and America-centric of me to only single out part of two warm states. Oceania and most of the Southern hemisphere, I am shaking my fist in envy at all of you, as well. Truthfully, my fist is shaking all on its own anyway, BECAUSE IT’S THREE DEGREES OUTSIDE. Also while we’re being honest, I’m usually jealously shaking my fists at Oceania anyway, because my lifelong dream has been to bum around New Zealand and pretend that I am a Hobbit, which wouldn’t be too difficult given my diminutive stature (yes, I said lifelong, because my life clearly began once I found a story involving other petite, introverted, curious creatures with a preference for brightly-colored clothing with whom to identify). One day, NZ. One fateful day.

The scene outside my window today. Poor little guy needs a space heater.
The scene outside my window today. Poor little guy needs a space heater.

Actually, can we talk more about Hobbits for a sec? Because my knowledge basically comes from all of the movies and now Wikipedia, which I am finding fascinating. If Wiki is to be believed, Hobbits “come of age” at 33, which means that it’s totally fine that I still feel completely and utterly lost in life. Perhaps in three and a half years’ time, I’ll find myself on an unexpected journey (*wink*) to self-actualization. Tee hee. Ok, I know what’s coming next so I’m going to try to head it off: guys please no more lectures on how nerdy this blog is getting. I already took a few jabs with the Star Wars references a couple posts back. I get it, I’m a hopeless geek. BUT I’M A GEEK WITH A TRIBE NOW. A fictitious tribe that now exists basically on the internet, in public libraries, and on DVD/Blu-ray, but still. Also my Gollum impression will bring you to tears [of pity or joy, it doesn’t really matter]. Ok, I’m really done now. I swear.

But speaking of things that are PRECIOUS, who likes fritters? I likes fritters. I likes them lots, but what I don’t like is third-degree burns from deep-frying stuff, so I’ve never attempted to fry anything before. Since I’m trying to be more courageous these days, and also badly wanted fritters but was too lazy to step into the bitter cold for them, I decided that there was no better time than the present to try my hand at making some. Don’t be afraid, friends. Let’s do this.

Lemon Ricotta Fritters (makes about 30 fritters)

adapted from Epicurious

4 cups vegetable oil, or other neutral-tasting oil

3/4 cup of all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons of baking powder

1/4 teaspoon of salt

2 teaspoons of grated lemon zest

1 tablespoon of lemon juice

1 cup of ricotta

2 lightly beaten eggs

2 tablespoons of granulated sugar (add a tablespoon if you want these to be sweeter)

1 1/2 teaspoons of vanilla extract

Maple syrup for topping, optional

Confectioner’s sugar for dusting

To start, in a large, wide saucepan with high sides, heat oil until a deep-fat thermometer inserted reads at 370ºF. Try to keep the oil at this temperature throughout the cooking process by adjusting the heat as needed.

Uhhh... maybe don't look directly into a boiling vat of oil.
Uhhh… maybe don’t look directly into a boiling vat of oil.

While the oil is heating, mix together flour, baking powder, salt and lemon zest. In a separate, larger bowl, stir together ricotta, lemon juice, eggs, sugar and vanilla, then add dry mixture to wet.

You’re going to fry these in batches. To start, drop a tablespoon of batter into the oil and allow to fry until golden brown, about 2-3 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon, allow to cool, and taste-test the fritter to make sure it’s cooked to your liking. Then, begin dropping more spoonfuls of batter into the oil. You want to make sure there’s enough room for all of the fritters– I did about six spoonfuls per batch.

Set fritters on a paper towel-lined plate to drain and cool. While still warm, if you’d like, you can drizzle these with maple syrup (just a thought, but I thought the maple hooked. these. up.).

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Once cooled, dust with confectioner’s sugar, and serve.

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Gahhhhh……

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Ohhhhhhh…..

They’re beautiful. Truly lovely, crunchy on the outside, creamy and lemony on the inside. Definitely best the day they’re made, these bite-sized fritters will not– did not, in our case– last long.

Categories
Cookies Holiday desserts

Melting Snowman Cookies. Because Nothing Else Is Ever Going To Melt

… Except my face, from boredom, from being inside, because currently it’s -5 degrees outside (with wind chill! The ! is there because the weatherpeople always seem to be so damned cheery about it).

Just kidding. I think my face is melting because I just received a crown, and heavy is the head that… ugh. Ok, it was the dental procedure kind of crown. Part one, actually (yes! There’s a PART TWO!). I now have a temporary crown, which is this strange, cemented plastic block that’s been stuck up into my molar. This mass is inserted by what can only be described as an upsettingly, painfully loud miniature airplane engine that zooms in and around the inside of one’s mouth for about as long as it takes to fly from here to Bermuda. Oh Bermuda. Would that I had spent my hard-earned nickels on a trip to Bermuda, instead of on this extremely expensive procedure. Sigh.

So what have you been doing to pass the time in this mind-altering cold? I’ve been binge-re-watching The Wonder Years. In fact, I’ve watched so many episodes that something finally occurred to me the other day…

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Yes, that’s a five year old me on the left, also known as Brown Female Kevin Arnold. How I did not put this together earlier, I will never know. I suppose there are worse beloved television characters one could be compared to but…

I’ll let you finish laughing at me. Done yet? Come on. Ok, moving on. I know that it’s Friday, the 13th of February, and that that probably means some of you are expecting something either very spooky or very romantic. However, given that I am currently nursing a bit of a headache (see: airplane in mouth) and am also so over V-day stuff (the chocolate selections this year are kind of meh, no?), we’re going to go with something sweet, silly and cute, because I, for one, need some cheering up after this week.

Melting Snowmen (makes 20 cookies)

adapted from Better Homes and Gardens

For the cookie

1/2 cup of butter, softened

1/2 cup of peanut butter

1/2 cup of granulated sugar

1/4 cup of brown sugar

1 teaspoon of baking powder

1/8 teaspoon of baking soda

1 egg

1/2 teaspoon of vanilla

3 tablespoons of milk

1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour

For the glaze

3/4 cup of white chocolate chips

10 mini peanut butter cups, unwrapped

Brown and orange sprinkles

To start, preheat your oven to 350ºF. Place peanut butter cups in the freezer (I’ll explain). In a large mixing bowl, beat together butter and peanut butter with an electric mixer on high, until fully mixed. Add in sugars, baking powder and baking soda, until combined, taking care to scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula. Add in egg, milk and vanilla until incorporated, and then add in flour until batter forms.

Shape dough into twenty equally-sized balls. Place on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper, and bake for 9 to 11 minutes (took me ten), just until the edges of the cookie are set and firm. Set aside to cool.

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Uhhh… someone ate a couple.
This particular one has a shadow over it because the boyfriend was looming, ready to snatch it.
This particular one has a shadow over it because the boyfriend was looming, ready to snatch it.

For the glaze, melt white chocolate in a small, heatproof bowl (I used the microwave- 1 minute at a time, stirring after each go until fully melted). Place cookies on a cool surface, then use a rubber spatula or butter knife to spread melted chocolate on cookies. Remove peanut butter cups from freezer and, with a small knife, cut each cup in half and place on cookie, wherever you’d like the top to be. Add sprinkles for eyes and nose, if desired. I had to use more white chocolate tinted with food coloring, because I just couldn’t bear going back out in the cold, and also because I kind of just wanted to eat these damned things already. Would definitely recommend springing for orange sprinkles.

One was naked so my boyfriend could do a "comparison." Spoiler: it was a tie.
One was naked so my boyfriend could do a “comparison.” Spoiler: it was a tie.

Mine look pretty jacked up, I know. They kind of look like melted snowbirds, which is sad, but also kind of artsy and beautiful, no? No, I get it. It’s just sad.

More importantly, how did they taste? Oh, they were totally delicious. The cookie was so soft, chewy and peanut-buttery, and not too sweet. I purposely cut the sugar in the cookie because I knew the glaze would be packed with sweetness, and it worked out just perfectly. Highly recommended as a fun, cold-weather treat.

Categories
Easy Baking No-Bake Recipes Puddings Stuff Your Parents Would Like

Let’s Pretend We’re In India, And Not On Hoth, Which Is Where We Live Now.

So I’ve been cracking Hoth jokes since this past weekend, when snowpocalypse was but a mere twinkle in the Northeast’s eye. This morning, I asked my boyfriend to bring the Tauntaun around so we could ride to the nearest park and go sledding. Hilario, I know. Oh, but I wasn’t always this jolly. I spent most of last night freaked out by the end-of-days posts on Gothamist and worried I didn’t stock enough milk for the pending storm (spoiler alert: I didn’t).

In case you were wondering, I’m writing this post on Tuesday evening, just as the big “blizzard” is winding down. I spent today working from home, which is simultaneously happy and sad.Happy because I can see the alternate universe in which I attempted to commute, and it involves me crying on the Manhattan-bound F train platform and picking frozen tears off of my face. I need to make some life changes.

How I survived the storm.
How ELSE I survived the storm.

It’s sad because I AM GOING COMPLETELY STIR CRAZY GUYS OMG. I recently made the mistake of learning that my phone has a built-in pedometer, and now I cannot stop tracking my steps, and since I live in an apartment in New York City, there are only so many steps I can take. Today, so far, I have only taken thirty steps, and knowing that is driving me bananas. As a result I am spending entirely too much of today walking from wall to couch to television to wall again whilst obsessively checking my phone to see the numbers shoot up. I am a sad, pajama-clad, live-action game of Pac-Man. Wait! Forty! I’m up to forty steps! Progress!

And how ELSE am I riding out this non-blizzard? With payasam! “WTF SHIBOW?! Be a little more aggressive with the spell check,” is likely how many of my non-Malayali readers are reacting right now. But fear not, friends! I can still spell like a mother. Payasam, a South Indian treat, (similar to kheer, which is a common North Indian dessert that can be found at many an Indian restaurant) is a sweet, milky dessert containing noodles, raisins, nuts and a few spices. It’s almost a pudding, almost a sweet soup. Payasam was always THE best part of all family functions for me, mostly because I am a sugar fiend and a little bit because I have poor social skills. If you’re more of a cupcake and cookie kind of human, this dessert is weird for you. I get it. But you need to try this, a. because it’s easy, and b. because it will give you the opportunity to open the eyes and stomachs of all of the other cupcake-and-cookie loving humans around you to a new, glorious comfort food. Let’s do this.

Payasam (makes a healthy few bowls. I know that’s vague. Sorry guys)

2 tablespoons of ghee/clarified butter (we’ll go through how to make this if you don’t have any on hand)

5 cups of coconut milk

1/2 cup of sugar

1 cup of vermicelli noodles (if unavailable, sub in 1 cup of angel hair pasta, broken into smaller pieces)

1/2 cup of raisins

1/2 cup of halved cashews

1/2 teaspoon of ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon of ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon of ground cardamom

To begin, we’ll make our clarified butter, if you don’t already have some ghee handy (I didn’t). For two tablespoons of ghee, melt about four tablespoons of butter over medium-high heat in a medium-sized saucepan, then reduce heat to low when butter is melted. Allow to cook until the butter browns and a foam forms on top, about 6-7 minutes.

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Skim the foam off, then pour butter through a strainer. Discard strained solids, and pour clarified butter back into the saucepan.

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Over medium heat, saute noodles in ghee until lightly browned. Pour in milk, sugar, and spices and bring mixture to a boil, stirring occasionally.

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Once mixture reaches a boil, add in raisins and cashews, and bring heat back down to a simmer. Allow it to cook until the milk thickens and the pasta has softened, then remove from heat. Serve hot, warm or cold. On days like this, it’s absolutely perfect warm.

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Heaven Soup.

 

So, it may not look like much, but WOW. I know I’m a highly emotional, extremely sentimental person, so having a bowl of this definitely brought a couple of tears to my eyes. It’s legit. My dad happened to be dropping by just as I was done making the payasam (truth is, he was dropping off blizzard food for me and my boyfriend, because he is an Indian father and does not believe we eat anything but Multigrain Cheerios and also is a nice human being), so I set him up with a to-go bowl for the family. My mom (who’s celebrating a birthday today– HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMA! <3), after giving me several pointers which were subsequently worked into the above recipe, praised it, which is really all I needed to hear. Payasam. Kid created, Indian mama approved.

 

Categories
Easy Baking Jams and Jellies No-Bake Recipes Strange and Yummy Stuff Your Parents Would Like

The Best Part of Waking Up Is Realizing It’s Not 2014 Anymore. And Also There Are Coffee Jellies

Happy 2015, ya’ll! How’s it feeling for everyone? Better so far than the pile of fetid garbage that was 2014? Okay, last year wasn’t completely bad, it was just 87% bad on my end. But so far this year’s lookin’ up! I’m ready to feng shui my whole damn life into order!

How I spent New Year's Day. Staring, motionless, at a stranger in a windbreaker and/or lighthouse in the distance.
How I spent New Year’s Day. Staring, motionless, at a stranger in a windbreaker and/or lighthouse in the distance.

Remember when I told you all about my sort-of resolution to ease up on the profanities? Yeah. Let’s f***ing scratch that; for, readers, I am weak, and my need to swear is strong. My new goal is to BUY MORE KITCHEN GADGETS. Lately I’ve been on the hunt for an ice cream maker and a slow cooker, which should be on sale because I feel like most things you can plug into a wall become deeply discounted after Christmas. My boyfriend says I’m forbidden from “bringing any more gadgets into our fun-sized kitchen unless the plan is to get rid of something(s).” It’s sad for my boyfriend that he doesn’t yet understand that I’m not forbidden from doing anything ever, forever. Poor chap. (I also want a kitchen torch, but for what I think are probably obvious reasons to many of you who know me in real life, I have forbidden myself from purchasing one.)

Really the only thing working in my guy’s favor right now is that I am boogie-down broke, due to the fact that I have decided to put the bulk of my earnings toward finally paying off my credit card debt. I am thisclose to doing so, and it simultaneously makes me want to jump for joy and die inside. If you, too, have ever had credit card debt, I trust you understand these contradictory impulses. And no, my debt was not due to an insane kitchen-related shopping spree, or a booze bender–though those would have been damn fun and I would have had no regrets, especially if I was on the booze bender WHILE on the shopping spree. Just thinking of the all the kickin’ baking contraptions I could have had at my disposal makes me wish I had swiped that plastic rectangle all over Chef’s Central instead of at [ENTER BORING, SADLY NECESSARY EXPENSE THAT I COULD NOT BEGIN TO AFFORD AT THE TIME]. Yes, I purposely censored myself on that one, because it really is a pathetically boring list of needs, and you’ll all be sad for me and we just can’t have that.

What we can have? Weird sweets. Yes, friends, it’s time for more of the strange, fancy, gelatinous desserts that have perplexed and awed us all.

Coffee Jellies 

adapted from Saveur

For the jellies

4 cups of strong brewed coffee

3/4 cup of sugar

2 packets (1/4 ounce each) of powdered gelatin

For the whipped cream

1 cup of heavy cream

2 tablespoons of sugar

2 teaspoons of coffee liqueur (optional)

To start, have someone who is obsessed with figuring out how to make a damn-good cup of coffee brew four cups of the stuff for you. In my case, it’s my boyfriend, who has spent countless hours trying to create the perfect cup of joe. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but whenever I steal a sip of his I am always impressed. Dude knows his stuff.

Place brewed coffee in a medium-sized saucepan over medium-high heat, and stir in sugar and gelatin. Bring to a boil, stirring until the gelatin and sugar have dissolved, and remove from heat. Pour mixture into either an 8″ square baking pan or into lightly greased mini-muffin tins. Let chill in refrigerator for at least 4 to 5 hours. If using a baking pan, cut into cubes or desired shapes. If using a muffin tin, just pop these babies out.

For the whipped cream, whisk heavy cream with a stand mixer or hand mixer on high speed until peaks begin to form. Whisk in sugar and coffee liqueur just until combined. Serve jellies in mugs or ramekins and top with a dollop of whipped cream.

Dude… I am not fancy. You all know this. It was a real struggle to try and make these look fancy, so my bad for the weird pictures.

Yes, they're shot glasses. I know.
Yes, they’re shot glasses. I know.

So, verdict? Well, I’m currently BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS. It’s proving difficult to even sit here long enough to finish this post. If you like coffee and drink it often, this is the fun, quirky brunch treat for you and all of your caffeine-loving pals. I, on the other hand, very rarely drink coffee and am therefore quite sensitive to it, which means weird nervous energy for me and lots and lots and lots of run-on sentences for the blog, because it’s my blog and I can’t stop typing and coffee makes me feel WEIRD these days and OHMYGODWHATHAVEIDONE. (Note: I went back and edited this piece hours after coming down off of the extreme caffeine high I was on, and it was NOT pretty. Lots and lots of long, long rants with little to no punctuation. It was actually frightening.)

Oh! So you may not believe me because, like I said, coffee’s not really my thing anymore, but you WILL believe these pictures. Part of the reason I didn’t take a fancy picture of the jellies in a fancy mug was there weren’t enough of them by the time I decided to photograph.

Exhibit A…

THIEF!
THIEF!

See all those empty cups? HE HAD SO MANY. In a couple of sittings How? How people do this?!

Oh, also, peep this:

Notice the weird stream of light shooting out of the tin and up into his hand. The jellies seem to have unlocked some sort of probably scary force on my boyfriend. More to come as story develops.
Notice the weird stream of light shooting out of the tin and up into his hand. The jellies seem to have unlocked some sort of probably scary force on my boyfriend. More to come as story develops.

Empty. In ONE day, this tin was empty (I only managed to get down two jellies before I went completely bonkers and had to stop). I mean, I know the guy likes sweets, but this is a new ballgame. And he didn’t freak out and do eighty jumping jacks, or try to make a four-course meal in the middle of the day, or try to do parkour in a tiny New York City apartment… like a certain someone else. I’m stunned.