We took a public bus today to the Mission district, to the bakery/café Tartine as recommended by Lisa N. Toff.  I had a morning bun – a take on cinnamon bun- and warm brioche bread pudding with fresh cranberries, and also sampled Kenny’s gougere – all three the work of culinary genius.   The morning bun – sweet dough sprinkled with some cinnamon and rolled into a bun with soft middle and crusty outside.  The pudding was soaked in some kind of sweet milky sabstance and the sweetness of the main body was complemented by the tartness of the berries, while gougere was a ball of cheesy dough with moist and flaky inside.  All was washed down with an excellent cup of coffee.   Having eaten our fill, we headed for the walking tour of the neighborhood known for its murals.   The Mission is actually two neighborhoods in one: one is poor and Latin and the other is  poor but artsy and hip.  Architecturally, this poor cousin of SF fancy neighborhoods does not much differ from its upscale cousins.  Same Victorians, Art Deco, and ornate gingerbread houses, only in dire need of paint and cleaning.  Local stores cater to the poor which is reflected in the featured merchandise and pitiful window displays.  But what the area lacks in cleanliness and bright paint is partially compensated by the bright murals covering many houses and entire alleys.  They mostly feature African and Native American faces and themes and bright colors on the facades of the abundant Latin restaurants and grocery stores create a feeling of being on a Caribbean island.

On the bus back to Jason’s apartment we were wedged between a big African American man who was incessantly chanting in what I thought was an African tongue, until my ears caught some clearly native English words, and an elderly man with parchment-thin and yellowish skin sporting a wig of thick black hair askew on his head worn over huge ears.  This city is home to more weirdos than I have seen anywhere else!  They come off as either actors from a variety show, escapees from a freak show, or aged scruffy westerners hailing from the last century’s frontier towns.

People here don’t seem to care much about style and outward appearance but they take great care to eat well.  Yesterday, we dined at a fine Peruvian restaurant on the waterfront and today are headed to a restaurant featuring new American cuisine.  Tomorrow is Indian.

Plucked from our very own tree, two beautiful Meyer lemons.

I’d promised to take another crack at the Shaker Lemon Pie almost exactly a month ago.  Thanksgiving morning, I was inspired to deliver.

All credit and praise to Tartine Bakery and Cafe in San Francisco for the recipe and inspiration.

2 medium lemons
2 c. sugar (14 oz.)
flaky tart dough
4 large eggs
1/4 tsp. salt

egg wash
1 large egg yolk
1 TBS. cream

sugar for dusting top of crust

Slice the lemons super-thin – sharpen your knife first and you will be glad.
Remove all seeds, but put everything else in a glass bowl.
Add sugar and stir gently, then cover and macerate for 3 hours or overnight.
When using Meyer lemons, you can skip the macerating, but I think at least a couple of hours helps.
(You macerate to tenderize the skin, which, on Meyers, is already fairly thin and tender.)

Prepare the tart dough in a 10-inch tart pan with a removable bottom.
Mix the eggs and salt, then mix into the lemons, then pour into the pan.
Brush egg wash around the rim of the bottom layer of dough.
Lay the second round on top, trim, and seal.  Crimp so you are sure to get it sealed.
Brush top with the egg wash, then dust with sugar.
Let rest in the fridge for 30 minutes or so, then cut vents before baking.
Bake at 350 degrees for about 40 minutes, until you have a nicely-browned crust.

I always put my tart pan on a small baking sheet to avoid the rookie mistake of sliding your hand underneath the tart pan to pick it up and pushing the entire tart out of the pan and onto the floor.  Not that I’ve done that, but I bet it could happen.

Also, this time, I hit the rim of the tart pan with a light spray of Baker’s Joy.  I did not want to struggle to get this buttery lemon delivery system out of the tart pan.  It definitely helped, as did making sure the seal was tight on the crust so no lemon-sugar-egg glue oozed out.

Some slices are thinner than others.

After a couple of hours, the lemon juice and sugar have turned this into a very liquid mixture.  Be ready to mix in the eggs and get into the dough quickly once you’ve mixed.

Post-egg wash and sugar dusting, but pre-vents.

I think I could let it get even browner, but this crust flaked like nothing I’ve ever achieved before, so I’m not going to worry about it.

The photo in the cookbook shows a crust so crackly and brown that I suspect they use a kitchen torch to really carmelize that sugar.  I dropped a hint to my father-in-law about the fact that a small torch from the hardware store might be a lovely addition to my collection of kitchen gadgets.

Rave reviews from all at Thanksgiving.  I admit it, my ego depends upon such praise, and I play to it.  As vices go, however, I’ll take seeking praise for pastry over most of the others I see people struggle to overcome!

So, for vanity’s sake, another angle:

This evening I baked some cookies out of the Mission-based Tartine cookbook, a gift from a close college friend who stayed with us a few months back.  This is the third time I’ve made this recipe, and I’ve learned a few tricks that make them turn out just perfect, at least in my oven (of the Bosch Evolution variety – a great residential range for people who actually cook).  The basic recipe (by Elisabeth M. Prueitt and Chad Robertson) is available here.  These are a great, thin cookie with an excellent combination of oaty-ness and chocolatey-ness.

Here are my tweaks:

• I only use 280 grams (about 1.25 cups) of sugar, rather than the 350 g (1.75 cups) called for in the original recipe.  I find that most dessert recipes call for way too much sugar, and this one is no exception.
• Although the recipe says to press out each scoop of dough into a flat 3-inch circle, I press mine into roughly 1.5″ to 2″ circles to get the cookies to a decent not-too-large size.  (Done this way, I end up with about 45 cookies, rather than the 24 listed in the original recipe.) When I made this recipe the first time and followed the directions for 3-inch circles, I ended up with these monstrously large (5″ to 6″) cookies that intimidated everyone at the baby shower I had brought them to.
• This last one isn’t exactly a tweak, but just a bit of emphasis – the recipe says to bake until the edges of the cookies are lightly browned but the centers are still pale.  This takes a lot of will power to do, as the cookies will look sort of disturbingly pale in the center and your instincts (if they’re like mine) may tell you to keep baking them.  But you really do need to take the cookies out when the centers are still pale – otherwise you’ll end up with cookies that are a bit too hard (I learned this the hard way, although my co-workers politely pretended that they were not concerned about destroying their dental work as they crunched (loudly) through the 2nd batch I made several months ago).  Even so, although the recipe says 10 to 12 minutes, I find that in my oven the right timing is more like 14 to 15 minutes, sometimes more.

I’ve never actually braved the line at Tartine the bakery, probably due to sheer laziness.  (Notwithstanding the similarly obscene lines, I’ve somehow managed to make my way to Mitchell’s and Bi-Rite, so perhaps I just need to suck it up and show up at Tartine one day as well.)  So I have nothing to compare my homemade version to, but Mr. Spoke, a true chowhound, just ate three in a row, so I’m going to count that as an enthusiastic thumbs up.

This evening I baked some cookies out of the Mission-based Tartine cookbook, a gift from a close college friend who stayed with us a few months back.  This is the third time I’ve made this recipe, and I’ve learned a few tricks that make them turn out just perfect, at least in my oven (of the Bosch Evolution variety – a great residential range for people who actually cook).  The basic recipe (by Elisabeth M. Prueitt and Chad Robertson) is available here.  These are a great, thin cookie with an excellent combination of oaty-ness and chocolatey-ness.

Here are my tweaks:

• I only use 280 grams (about 1.25 cups) of sugar, rather than the 350 g (1.75 cups) called for in the original recipe.  I find that most dessert recipes call for way too much sugar, and this one is no exception.
• Although the recipe says to press out each scoop of dough into a flat 3-inch circle, I press mine into roughly 1.5″ to 2″ circles to get the cookies to a decent not-too-large size.  (Done this way, I end up with about 45 cookies, rather than the 24 listed in the original recipe.) When I made this recipe the first time and followed the directions for 3-inch circles, I ended up with these monstrously large (5″ to 6″) cookies that intimidated everyone at the baby shower I had brought them to.
• This last one isn’t exactly a tweak, but just a bit of emphasis – the recipe says to bake until the edges of the cookies are lightly browned but the centers are still pale.  This takes a lot of will power to do, as the cookies will look sort of disturbingly pale in the center and your instincts (if they’re like mine) may tell you to keep baking them.  But you really do need to take the cookies out when the centers are still pale – otherwise you’ll end up with cookies that are a bit too hard (I learned this the hard way, although my co-workers politely pretended that they were not concerned about destroying their dental work as they crunched (loudly) through the 2nd batch I made several months ago).  Even so, although the recipe says 10 to 12 minutes, I find that in my oven the right timing is more like 14 to 15 minutes, sometimes more.

I’ve never actually braved the line at Tartine the bakery, probably due to sheer laziness.  (Notwithstanding the similarly obscene lines, I’ve somehow managed to make my way to Mitchell’s and Bi-Rite, so perhaps I just need to suck it up and show up at Tartine one day as well.)  So I have nothing to compare my homemade version to, but Mr. Pigtales, a true chowhound, just ate three in a row, so I’m going to count that as an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Began my weekend of near-constant indulgence simply enough – had a late meal at Le Pain Quotidien, ordered the red vert quinoa, with butternut squash and some kind of mushroom I couldn’t identify.

This colorful plate is Daniel’s chicken and mozzarella tartine, complete with pesto and assorted vegetables enough to ward off the scurvy for a good long while.

For dessert (besides my Belgian hot chocolate, which I sipped on throughout), found this hilarious gem at Barnes & Noble. Excellent!

All downhill (in terms of healthiness…) from Friday on…you shall see the parade of cupcakes and sparkles and food by the ton, very soon.

Once in a while. we get so bogged down with everyday busy-ness in the bakery that we forget how much we love what we do. We slog through our days churning out the same old stuff. I was in such a state a couple of months ago, and I needed to snap out of it quickly. A new season was upon us and I was badly in need of inspiration. The start of the Fall season usually means cool summer desserts giving way to the warmth and comfort of apple and spice and pumpkin. But I was all out of fresh ideas, and everything in last year’s Fall menu seemed tired and stale.

What does one do to get inspired all over again? Sometimes all it takes is trying out that new place across town. Other times it’s having a really excellent meal or an exceptional wine that awakens all those dulled senses, and you rediscover your love of good food. Feeling unfamiliar textures in your mouth, being treated to a different array of colours, or tempted by new aromas. And sometimes, you actually need to get away. A change of scenery is always good, even if it’s only for a couple of days.

So when my boss said, “How do you feel about a weekend in San Francisco?”, my little foodie heart did cartwheels. It was officially a bakery and cafe hop – a research trip. But, we get to do it all:  try new things, get away to re-energize, eat good food, drink good wine and, more importantly for me, get my mojo back. Perfect!

SAN FRANCISCO

As you can imagine, we stayed well clear of Fisherman’s Wharf. No inspiration there. Instead we found little gems tucked in the oddest neighborhoods and were rewarded with buckets of inspiration. There’s so much to tell, but that would make this a very long post so here are the highlights. The pictures tell the story.

First stop: Blue Bottle Cafe

NO SIGNAGE, JUST THIS

Tucked in one corner of the Old Mint Building, the never-disappearing line-up that spills outside is the only clue that there’s good food and good coffee here. There are two other locations but this is the main one. Communal tables, sky-high ceilings, a light and airy feel – there are so many  little touches that  just made this place ooze coolness.

There’s not much baking, and the fresh sheet, which changes weekly, only has 7 items on it. But the well-though-out menu has the best of what the city has to offer: locally-sourced, seasonal ingredients simply presented. It’s a cafe so there’s nothing complicated about the food. For breakfast: steel cut oats, cottage cheese with a mixed berry compote, thick-cut toast, poached eggs.

YUM!

We loved this place so much we went back 2 other times for lunch and weekend brunch. The menu switches to lunch at 11am: fresh bun sandwiches with amazingly simple fillings but oh so good! Did I say how much we loved this place?

Next stop: Tartine Bakery

Tartine is actually well-known in these parts. You know it’s a popular place when they have their own cookbook. This neighborhood bakery is always packed, from morning till night. The atmosphere is a little less refined – more bohemian to fit the neighborhood. It’s not my kind of place to sit in and enjoy a bite to eat; it’s much too busy. But they churn out so much baking every day it’s crazy. Lots of good ideas here though, and everything we tried was very good. They know their stuff.

You’d think with all this bakery hopping we would have no appetite for dinner. Are you kidding? Eating was the order of the weekend!

Dinner at Bar Bambino

This exceptional, high-end Italian restaurant is hardly noticeable. It’s on a scary street, hidden among tacquerias and pawn shops. The neighborhood is awake all night and there are peddlers and bums on every corner. Inside, however, it’s a whole different story. Wood and concrete interior, a very attentive staff, and food so good, you want to cry! Salumi (cured meats), cheeses, red wine, a pappardelle with rabbit, and lamb shank cooked in a delicate cinnamon broth. I could have died that night and it would have been a fitting last meal.

Last but not least: Miette Patisserie

A bakery, in the truest sense, is a lot different from a patisserie and the contrast between Tartine (bakery) and Miette (patisserie) proves that.  On our last morning, tired and still somewhat full, we made the trek out to the Ferry Building. It’s a good thing I did not die because I would have missed seeing the wonderfully sweet creations at Miette. Everything here was dainty and pretty. And tasted divine. Who says you can’t have great-looking AND great-tasting desserts? We saw so many cool things in their display that I haven’t seen anywhere. It was definitely worth it.

Three days in San Francisco. A crazy whirlwind of food and drink. And just what the soul needed. Inspiration to last through all the dark days of winter. I, apparently, am easy to please

What inspires you?

Address:  Arévalo 1488

Cost:  $54.00 includes Crepres de Verduras, Limonada, + Volcan Choc/Dulce

I happened upon Tartine today, looking for a very late lunch at 6pm. I sat down and started talking to a 20-something girl, working on her black Mac, who looked like she could have been from LA, and she mentioned that she just spent a year in Paris working for Danon. Then I asked her what her drink was – it looked like a lime mojito – and she said it was mint/ginger/lemonade (without alcohol) named Limonada Lori Lori.. named after HER! Lori. She is the owner, and just opened Tartine October 1. She’s here everyday.  She also mentioned the cafe next door (called “Arevalo?) is all vegetarian.  But it closes later afternon it seems.

Ambience @ Tartine: Pastel colors, spacious, large windows with covered outside terrace.

So I ordered the Lori Lori. It was too short, yet so sweet. And despite my reluctance to have a crepe for lunch (just because I hadn’t eaten and didn’t want to go straight for creamy/sweet), I ordered the Crepes de Verduras (vegetables.. with ricotta).

It was beautifully packaged, and the crepe itself felt relatively light and spongy with an integrale taste (even though I don’t think it was), with a yellowish sauce on top, and the julienne vegetables made such an osmotic combination.

Finally, I ordered the Vulcan Sese with chocolate and dulce de leche. It took 20 minutes, but that was 20 minutes more to watch the other LA-yet-we-are-Argentine looking girls around me chat and enjoy the long table I had to myself.

It had a cute little mint on top. The scoop of dulce de leche ice cream’s texture was suave and creamy. The chocolate was deep with a great hot smoldering melting surprise inside. The only thing I might tell Lori is that there was such a contrast between the dulce de leche on top and the chocolate cake with liquid inside on bottom, that I might find a better way to make the dulce de leche last through to the bitter, deep, intense end. Maybe they should run out with another scoop right when you are lapping through the mud?

Is a tartine really a sandwich….?

YES ! Yes, it definitely is and the Blue Dahlia Bistro on E. 11th makes them very well.

tartines inside

Last night Nowlin and I braved Austin rush hour traffic to head over to the east side for Blue Dahlia’s happy hour.  Yes, you heard right -a happy hour for sandwiches. Hooray! Blue Dahlia’s happy hour runs Monday-Friday from 3:00-6:30 with discounts on tartines sandwiches, plates for two, and wine and beer. The normally reasonably priced tartines ($6.00ish) are even cheaper ($4-$6)!

Blue Dahlia has a great atmosphere. It’s unassumingly tucked away right off I35 but you would never know you’re that close to the highway, that’s how secluded it feels.

blue dahlia bistro

Blue Dahlia bills itself as a little French bistro (tartines, salades, and plats du soir, anyone?) but I have to say it doesn’t quite feel like France. But that’s okay because it feels like Austin. The inside is warm and inviting with deep, rich wooden tables. The tables  are long and communal which I personally really like. It actually reminds me more of Germany than France with those tables…

But anyways, the inside is wonderfully cozy, however, their back patio is where to sit. When you go here, go sit outside! It’s like entering the secret garden but better because you get sandwiches. There are plants growing everywhere, a little fountain, glowing lanterns, all nicely secluded within the confines of a warm wooden fence.

our little table

So we settled in at our table on the patio since the weather was perfect! It wasn’t very crowded on a Monday night so we had plenty of tables to chose from. After spending only 5 minutes looking at the menu, Nowlin and I were ready to order!

We decided to start with a ’specialties plate’ – hummus, taboule, mesclun, greens and olives. And bread – how could I forget to mention the bread?

hummus is yummus

I gorged. Oops. The hummus was great. And the bread. Their bread is super tasty so of course I ate a ton. They served two different kinds – a wheat bread and a raisin-type. I was pleasantly surprised at how well the raisin flavor complimented the hummus.  This plate was only $6 during happy hour which was really a great deal – look how much food there is! I was full after this.

But of course we ordered sandwiches. I chose to get the brie with walnut & apricot preserve tartine:

can you already tell this is too much food for me?

Loved the flavors on this open-faced sandwich! But honestly after one piece, it was just too sweet for me. It was almost like a dessert tartine, which, incidentally, was a good thing since the hummus plate turned out being ginormous. I only managed to eat a piece and a half of this tartine because the sweetness was overpowering. So once again, I took half home.

Nowlin ordered the smoked salmon tartine with cream cheese. We traded slices and his was delicious. The cream cheese was lightly spread on so it wasn’t too heavy but still maintained the classic flavor combo of cream cheese and salmon. (Sorry no picture!)

So after this meal, I think I consumed my weight in bread.  I recommend not ordering an appetizer with bread if you plan to get a sandwich because even though the bread is so tasty, it was too much even for my bread-loving self. Nowlin and I both agree the tartines might be improved with thinner slices of bread, as well.

The service here was okay. No real complaints, just a little so-so. There weren’t any real problems and I hardly mind waiting on food since I love the long meal experience. For those typicaly inahurry, though, Blue Dahlia is probably a place to go when you have some time to kill.

And my favorite part of Blue Dahlia?

kitten !

If you haven’t already figured out I am rapidly approaching crazy cat lady status (see my avatar, please.) It’s true – I love cats. And some people don’t like an adorable little kitty friend looking for scraps, but I find it endearing. Plus, I knew this kitten’s mother from previous dining experiences, so we were immediately friends.

Another cool thing about Blue Dahlia besides their atmosphere and food is that they strive to use organic and local products. Their mission statement shows they value the community of Austin and their patrons.

Basically, the Blue Dahlia Bistro is charming with good food at good prices. It’s a unique place to take friends that often goes unnoticed. I definitely recommend checking out the Blue Dahlia, especially during happy hour.

Blue Dahlia Bistro

1115 East 11th Street, Austin, TX 78702

512. 542.9542

http://bluedahliabistro.com/

Have you ever been to Blue Dahlia? Any other awesome east side finds I should check out?

Until next time,

jen

And brioche! I got it in my head to bake the brioche for this week’s Sweet Melissa Sundays selection, Sweet Almond Bread Pudding with Raspberry Sauce.

I’ve made brioche before, both the one from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking…From My Home to Yours and from Peter Reinhart’s The Bread Baker’s Apprentice. This time I decided to try the brioche recipe from Elisabeth Prueitt’s Tartine. As Tartine recipes tend to go, it was a fussy recipe requiring a pre-ferment, both freezer & refrigerator time, and washing lots of dishes. And as Tartine recipes tend to go, it was the best recipe I’ve made. The crumb was unbelievable and the bread was gorgeous. I made the full recipe which yielded 2 loaves and 12 petite brioche sans tête (didn’t feel like adding the têtes).

In the introduction to the recipe Elisabeth Prueitt suggests using slices of brioche for tartines, French open-faced sandwiches. I thought that was a swell idea and made one using leftover toppings from my pizza party. It’s a 4-Cheese tartine with sun-dried tomatoes and red onions.  Most of the brioche is residing in my freezer for French toast emergencies.

I only made a 1/4 of the Sweet Melissa recipe because I’m not a fan of bread pudding. I made 1/2 of the raspberry sauce because it will be great on ice cream. Thank you to Candace of Candy Girl for hosting this week. If you would like the recipe, visit her blog or buy the book–Melissa Murphy’s The Sweet Melissa Baking Book.

After a long hiatus, I’ve remembered to submit this to Yeastspotting!

One of the best artisan bread makers in the world is right here in San Francisco. It’s Acme Bread. We are particularly partial to the Pain au levain. It’s heartier than a white bread, but not as course as whole wheat and it has a beautiful hard crust and lovely round shape.

For today’s lunch I made a turkey and jarlsberg tartine (open face sandwich) on a nice thick slice of acme pain au levain with a slathering of good creole mustard, a few slices of roast turkey, some herb salad, some pretty tomato slices and some jarlsberg cheese. I served it with a little bit of homemade sauerkraut from the Farmers Market.

Next time it'll be level...

So making a cake wasn’t as difficult as I thought it to be but then in some ways…it was.  It turned out well enough..it was edible, tasty, fulfilled any sort of chocolate cravings I had but it lacked a few things.  Firstly, it wasn’t anywhere as moist as I had hoped it to be.  I’m thinking next time I do this, I’m going to fill it with raspberry instead of just a ganache filling.  Not that I’m using raspberry to offset the dryness of the cake, I think the second issue was that the cake itself was over cooked.  Thirdly, I need to learn to cut a cake level.  Either that or just cut the domes off and not try to make 4 levels.  I was surprised that despite the amount of sugar I used, it wasn’t that sweet.  The recipe has buttermilk in it so maybe that tartness offset the sugar but Viv liked that…she doesn’t have as much a sweet tooth as I do.  Elise liked it too – bu then again, what toddler doesn’t dig on chocolate cake?

I don’t normally post this much – I’m just playing catch up.  Also, Viv is watching TV.  These are the nights she catches up on her shows.  Anyhow, this weekend, I’m planning on making my first chocolate cake.  While I’m a competent cook and love cooking in general, I’m a terrible baker.  I trying to get better though.  My buddy down in San Fran sent me a cookbook from Tartine, a bakery of delectable reputation, and in it is a glorious recipe for a devil’s food cake.  I have some left over valrhona cocoa powder so I thought put that to good use.  If it turns out, and that’s a big if, I’ll post a pic.  Otherwise I’ll just eat it.  It keeps for 4 days…serves 12 to 16.  How does a family of 2 1/2 eat a cake for 16 in 4 days and not lay claim to diabetes?

Anyway, looking forward to the weekend.  Other than the cake of chocolaty goodness, I’m planning on working on Elise’s train table except I need some wood conditioner to close up some of the pores on the fir.  Then again, would the blotchiness really bug me?  Will I ever complete this damn table?  Anyone know if I need to use a wood conditioner if I’m using water based aniline dye?  Anyone?  Bueller?

Sick of pesto pasta salad? Me too! That’s why I trolled around for an alternative delivery system for all the pesto I need to make before this weekend, when the temperature’s likely gonna drop way below basil-tolerance parameters. Marché does these tasty little tartines for lunch–which sounds fancy, but is really just an open-faced sandwich with a French accent. I also am not so strong in the how-to-cook-squash department, so I trolled around online for ideas. Here’s what I adapted to use up my Farmer’s Market yellow squash, homemade bread, and basil:

Squash and Pesto Tartines

First, prepare the squash: Cut it into 1/2 in. slices. Spread olive oil, coarse, fresh cracked pepper and salt on a baking sheet. Lay out the squash slices, drizzle with a little oil, sprinkle on salt and pepper, and grate some Parmesan onto the slices. Bake at 350 for, I dunno, 20 minutes? Until it looks right.

Make the pesto. You probably already know how. I use one basil plant for each batch. Rinse off the bugs and spiderwebs, throw it in with some parmesan, salt, olive oil, a garlic clove, and some pine nuts. How much of all this stuff? I dunno, some. If you need more detailed measurements, go here.

Buy some nice, crusty bread from a decent place or, if it’s a Sunday afternoon and you’re feeling ambitious, make it. Here’s a recipe I’ve been using, and every time I take this bread to a dinner party people think I actually know something.

What works best is to mix up the dough on the weekend, then stick it in the fridge. You’ll have enough dough for 4 loaves, and it’ll last for 2 weeks. The tartine recipe is especially good using this bread. There are a couple of hurdles–like making room in the fridge for a big batch of dough, for example, and transferring the wet dough from the pizza peel to the stone without it sticking to everything. I’ve learned a few tricks, so if you have problems, post your questions on this page.

Trick #1 (for making space in fridge for dough): Throw some nasty $#!& away. Do you really need the half jar of pickle relish and the 2-year old tub of sour cream?

Trick #2 (for sticky dough): Make it ahead of time and don’t try to form loaves until it has spent at least 2 hours in the fridge.

Cut the bread into thick slices, smear on the pesto, and spread squash slices on. Top with a little more Parmesan and pop in the oven (on the same peppery olive oiled cookie sheet) for 5 minutes to melt the Parmesan and crisp the bread.

Simple, good, and possessing a sophisticated name that will impress your friends. If they are of a more conservative, anti-French bent, call it a &$^#*%@ sandwich.

A couple of weekends ago, three friends and I spent our Saturday afternoon on a “Dessert Crawl,” an event that was part tea party, part walking tour of San Francisco’s Mission District.

The idea for the crawl was born on Facebook, when various people were offering a friend recommendations for good places to go for dessert.  As different folks chimed in with suggestions for my friend Katie, another friend, Frances, remarked, “Dessert crawl!”, and because we all recognized what a lovely thing such an event would be, we immediately commenced planning Dessert Crawl #1.

Because the agreed-upon date for the crawl was a good few weeks away, we had plenty of time to plan where we would go and how we would go about the crawling.  We all agreed that we should share desserts and walk to all locations in order to avoid feeling disgustingly full before we had even finished dessert number two.  We also had places in mind that we definitely wanted to hit–Bi-Rite Creamery, Tartine, and the Creme Brûlée Cart being among them.

When the day arrived, Creme Brûlée Cart had decided he would be in Hayes Valley instead of the Mission, and he would be there far earlier in the day than we had planned to meet.  Though initially disappointed, we forged ahead without him and had a delightful Saturday afternoon.

We first hit up Bi-Rite Creamery.  It was my first time going there, and when it was time to place my order, I was delighted to find that my small, “single”-sized cup could accommodate two small scoops of ice cream, so I got to try two flavors; I chose toasted coconut and ginger.  Both were good, particularly the ginger, which had a creamier texture and far less ice crystals than the coconut. Other flavors consumed by our party: salted caramel (the “it flavor” at Bi-Rite, it seems) and toffee.  Raves all around.

From there we walked down the block to Tartine.  They are known (and rightfully so) for their bread pudding, but it was a rare warm day in San Francisco–not really bread pudding weather–so we chose a small lemon tart and shared it amongst the four of us.  The tart was beautiful to look at and incredibly satisfying to eat, with a filling that was less lemon curd and more lemon cream; still, it somehow managed to taste light, airy, and pucker-perfect tangy.  We also liked the fact that the tart had a crunchy-cookie-type crust that added a perfect balance of texture to the silky citrus filling.

Lemon Tart for four at Tartine

When we left Tartine, we had a good several block walk to our next destination, Mission Pie.  It was  a lovely walk, during which we admired the architecture

A beautiful home with a beautiful view.

and even chatted with a friendly, curious cockatoo who greeted us with many hearty squawks and an eventual throaty, “Hello!”

"Hello!"

At Mission Pie, we shared a slice of the mixed-berry pie.  The filling was spectacular: raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, blackberries–all nestled tightly together on a flaky bottom crust.  The filling was full of berry flavor and had not a bit of the bland gooeyness that seems to plague so many other fruit pies of lesser quality.

Berry pie with whipped cream on the side.

Pie consumed, it was time to head to our last destination, Anthony’s Cookies, where we each bought our own cookie (they’re small), with which we toasted our very delightful Saturday afternoon.  They were cookies we would all be pining for later, long after we had gobbled them up.  I had the peanut butter cookie, and it was truly one of the best I’ve ever had.  Anthony does not flatten his peanut butter cookie, and because of that, it bakes up with a crisp outer texture and a warm, soft-chewy center.  It’s like a hug for your tongue, and who doesn’t need a good hug these days?

As we said our goodbyes, we all remarked how great the day had been:  The Dessert Crawl is economical!  We all tasted four desserts and spent around eight dollars to do so.  And, because we shared items and had small portions of the things we didn’t share, we didn’t experience “sugar crash” afterward.  Plus, it was wonderful to be outside, walking and appreciating our surroundings as we moved through the city on foot (one of the best ways to see and appreciate San Francisco).  And as my friend Frances noted, probably the best thing about a Dessert Crawl is that it doesn’t require nearly the recovery that a Pub Crawl often does.  Amen to that.

We are already looking forward to DC #2.

Petit potiron …

Je vous la fais rapide … Je cherchais une belle confiture pour accompagner mon Pain foncé …

Vous les auriez vu faire les coquettes sur leur étagére … C’est celle là que l’on trouve à notre goût pour accompagner nos tartines …

Confiture de Potiron

• 600 gr de potiron
• 200 gr de sucre candico ( 1/3 )
• 1 jus de citron
• 1 CS d’eau de fleur d’oranger

Dans une cocotte , mettre le potiron coupé en gros cubes .

Ajouter le sucre candico ( sucre allégée , mettre un tiers du poids des fruits … ) , un jus de citron .

Mélanger , couvrir et laisser macérer toute une nuit .

Le lendemain …

Mettre la cocotte sur feu doux , dés l’apparition des gros bouillons compter 4 minutes .

Poser une cuillérée de la préparation sur une soucoupe , si la préparation se fige , la confiture est prête !!!

Ajouter la CS d’eau de fleur d’oranger , mettre en pot !

Prendre le temps d’y goûter , le p’tit déj , c’est sacré !

Et elle est de quelle couleur ma confiture ?

Allez je vous met sur la voix , couleur …. Potiron

Vous pouvez jeter un oeil là , pour une variante de mis en pots !

Vous dire aussi , que ce week end était organisé La fête de la confiture

 à Houplines

Mannifestation sympathique qui réunissait des amateurs , des passionés , des originaux , des producteurs locaux , des confiots addicts …

Y était organisé un concours enfant de dégustation , ou on demandait aux minimes gourmands de reconnaitre les fruits , légumes et tous les ingrédients de 5 confitures , et qui a gagné ?

Ma jolie gourmande , ma Zoun …

 Aussi , était organisé , un concours de confiture amateur , j’ai proposé ma confiture de potiron et ai gagné le 3 éme prix pour l’originalité !

Nous sommes revenus fières et chargés …

Eh oui , chez nous c’est originalité et dégustation !

Testez la confiote de potiron et racontez nous …

J’vous explique … Chez nous , le p’tit déj c’est sacré , il nous faut une belle tartine pour accompagner nos confitures et de belles confitures pour tenir compagnie à nos belles tartines …

Alors …

Pain foncé

• 330 gr de farine ( mélange pour pain foncé 9 céréales , c’est écrit sur le paquet ! )
• 15 gr de levure de boulanger diluée dans un bol d’eau tiède .
• 1 cc de sel
• 1 CS d’huile
• 220 ml d’eau tiède

Dans un saladier , mélanger la farine avec le sel , l’huile .

Incorporer la levure diluée dans un bol d’eau tiède .

Ajouter petit à petit l’eau , mélanger pour obtenir une belle boule de pâte .

Couvrir et laisser tranquille 30 minutes , à l’abris des courants d’air .

30 minutes plus tard …

Etaler la pâte sur un plan de travail fariné , la replier sur elle même , renouveller l’opération deux , trois fois .

Poser la préparation dans un plat allant au four ( pour celui là , j’ai utilisé un plat à cake en silicone ) .

Couvrir et laisser se reposer une demie heure ( Encore … )

Préchauffer votre four à 250 ° pendant une quinzaine de minutes , puis baisser la température à 200° .

Mettre dans le four un bol d’eau , enfourner le pain pour 50 minutes …

Et voila …

Maintenant , il faut trouver la confiture qui lui ira le mieux …

 à suivre !

Vous dire aussi , que je participe au concours du very nice blog !  , comme son nom l’indique , il récompense le plus very nice blog tout sujet confondu , alors pour me donner un coup de pouce , vous pouvez voter pour

en vous balladant là !

Et aussi , un gros , gras , grand merci à Lolo le pote à Coco qui aprés m’avoir fait une jolie banniére quand j’ai ouvert le blog , m’a aujourd’hui offert un tout beau bouton d’abonnement !!!!

Mes paupières s’ouvrent à peine et la lumière me fait du mal. D’un regard lent je fait le tour de la pièce aux papiers peints fleuris. J’entends le tic tac du réveil qui a bercé inlassablement ma nuit. Il est six heures et vingts minutes je ferme les yeux encore un peu. Je suis allongé là, dans la même position où je me suis couché hier. Mes draps n’ont pas pas bougés eux non plus, la nuit à été calme. Je dérange cet ordre je tente de me lever, je mets tout en désordre. Mes pieds touchent le carrelage froid, je frissone de tout mon être. Je cherche, je tatonne, mes deux chaussons ont dormi ensemble. Je dirige mes deux petons dans le creux de leurs douceurs. Le frisson a laissé sa place  à un sentiment de chaleur. Appuyé sur le rebord de ma table de nuit, je demeure assis un moment. Je prends mon temps. J’ai tout mon temps. Je prends une grande inspiration, je raidis mes bras tout affaiblis. Enfin je suis debout. Je me dirige vaillament vers l’unique chaise autour de ma jolie table ronde couleur acajou. Sur cette dernière trone une nappe en plastique à carreaux jaunes et blancs. Je m’appuie sur la chaise bien plus solide que moi et je prends mon petit gilet de laine pour le mettre sur mes épaules. Il fait frisquet. Je me tourne et je m’avance vers le couloir. Je suis prudente, je fais doucement, je regarde où je marche et je n’oublie pas de lever les pieds pour faire un peu d’exercice. Sur les murs orangés je regarde pour la centième fois les photos qui y sont accrochées. Je vois des visages familliers et aimant. Je vois des petits, je vois des plus grands. Il y a mon fils Alain qui se tiens droit et qui semble fier sur le bateau qui l’emmène en Afrique. Sur une autre image qui a figé le temps, il y a pleins d’enfants dans un arbre qui pose, qui escalde, qui grimpe sur ses branches. Je vois ailleurs les visages heureux d’un mariage en pleine mer sur un bateau. Mais moi je suis là dans mon couloir aux murs orangés et j’avance. Je tire sur la poignée de la porte du bout du couloir et j’entre dans la cuisine. J’ouvre le tiroir et je prends mon couteau pour découper un morceau de pain de la veille. Le pain frais sa sera pour le déjeuner. Je dépose le couvercle du beurrier et je prends un peu de beurre pour le poser sur mes tartines dans lesquelles j’ai fait des entailles pour mieux les manger. J’ai sorti mon bol breton à oreilles bleures et je verse mon chocolat poulain à l’eau. Je ne bois plus de lait depuis des années. J’ai été malade un jour à cause du lait. Je pose le tout sur mon petit plateau et je retourne dans ma chambre. Là je m’assis sur mon unique chaise autours de ma table et je me délecte de mon breuvage chocolaté et de me tartines de pain beurré. Il est temps de lire le midi-libre et le petit journal que je reçois de mon île de Bréhat, celle où j’ai passé de très longues années. J’apprends que mes amies sont dans une maison où l’on prends soins d’elles. Elles y font des parties de scrabble. Elles jouent aux cartes. Ma meilleure amie Yvonne nous a quitté il y a peu. Je suis triste et je repense aux chansons que nous chantions avant d’aller nous coucher. Toujours pleine de vie et sautises. Il est onze heures. Je vais préparer mon déjeuner. Il sera léger. Ce matin j’ai bien déjeuner. Je m’accomoderai d’une tranche de jambon avec quelques pates au beurre. Je n’oubli pas mon verre de vin rouge allongé à l’eau. J’allume ma télévision et je reste sur TF1 pour regarder mon émission quotidienne du midi, ”Attention à la marche” présentée par jean-luc Reichmann. Un petit bâton de quelques minutes pour reposer mes yeux et pour digérer mon repas. C’est bientôt l’heure de changer de chaîne et de mettre France 2. Je regarde ” Les chiffres et les lettres” . Je me lève, je vais le tour de la maison pour vérifier si tout est bien fermé à clés. Je passe un petit coup de téléphone à Noël pour savoir si tout vas bien. Dans quelques instants sa sera l’heure de mettre France 3 pour regarder ” questions pour un champions” . Ce soir, comme tous les soirs, je mange deux tartines de pains fraîchement beurrés avec une belle portion de camembert, sans oublier mon petit verre de vin rouge allongé avec un peu d’eau. C’est françois qui à gagner ce soir et remporte sa troisième victoire consécutive. Il a choisit de rester. Il jouera donc demain de nouveau pour tenter de gagner la cagnotte. Moi de mon côté de débarasse mon petit plateau. Je nettoie mon assiette ébréchée en porcelaine bleue et je mets mes couverts. Tout est prêt pour le repas de demain. Je reste quelques temps a regarder le journal de vingt heures sur TF1 et vais faire ma petite toilette avant d’aller me coucher. J’ai brosser mes dents et mis ma chemise de nuit au ton pastel. Je m’appuie sur le rebord de ma table de nuit je regarde le cadre posé sur le buffet. J’y ai mis la photo de ma petite fille. Elle me regarde en souriant timidement. Ses yeux marrons et ses cheveux coupés au carré la rende adorable. Sur la photo elle a 11 ans, enfin c’est ce qu’il me semble. Je pousse légèrement les draps de mon lit pour ne pas tout mettre en désordre pour la nuit. Je m’alonge doucement sans mouvment brusque. Joseph mon mari veillera sur moi cette nuit. Je jette un dernier regard sur notre photo de mariage. Il y a si longtemps. J’éteins la lumière de la lampe de chevet et je ferme mes petits yeux. Il est vingt et une heures et il est emps de dormir pour moi. La journée à été bien remplie. J’entends la télévision du salon. Alain et Joëlle regarde le film du jeudi soir. Ils sont jeunes, ils se couchent tards. Ainsi vont mes jours, ainsi vont mes nuits. Je me nomme Blanche. Je suis née en 1919. Aujourd’hui j’ai 90 ans.