First, choose your pie (or choose many of them):

Everyone’s Favorite Pumpkin! Before there was pumpkin spice everything, there was Pumpkin Pie, and our version is so classy and classic and perfectly spiced.

Chocolate Bourbon Pecan! Yes, bourbon and chocolate because pecan pie should be all things to all people.

Apple Crumb! New Yorkers like crumb (the more crumb the better) hence, our classic cinnamon apple pie with brown sugar crumble. Simple, yet perfect.

Chocolate Cranberry Chess Pie! She’s brand new this year and OMG…Cranberry compote. Chocolate custard. Yes, please.

Second, call our stores to place your order.

Dial 212.775.0345 extension 1 for our Red Hook store and extension 2 for our Tribeca store. It is that easy.

If you don’t live nearby, never fret, a few of our pie recipes are floating around the interwebs.

Or maybe you want us to send you brownies? Brownies and pie are like Bert and Ernie – they go perfect together. Order now and we will ship them in time for your feast.

This lovely, large, wrinkled and wave-like chocolate chunk cookie recently resurfaced again via a friend’s Instagram, and after I glanced at the ingredients and directions, I realized it perfectly conformed to my current living situation. At the moment, I am “in-between” apartments which is a nice way of saying “glorified couch surfing”.  All of my prized kitchen things are still (hopefully) tucked away in some random New Jersey storage facility. And though I am staying in some quite lovely Airbnb’s during this forced transition time, none of them are set up for baking. In fact, 9 out of 10 Airbnb’s have barely usable knives, let alone a baking sheet or a brownie pan.

So, even though the Pan-Banging Chocolate Chip Cookie instructions mention a stand mixer, I am here to tell you that you can mix the dough the old-fashioned way: with a wooden spoon and a large bowl and a fair amount of elbow grease. And even though I really wanted to bake these cookies on human-sized baking sheets, I managed to bake these off in “two-at-a-time” batches utilizing a tiny tray I pilfered from a sad toaster oven.

But the important thing to note here: these cookies are so incredibly good, so perfectly caramelized on the edge with a near molten chocolate center, that I would find a way to assemble these over a campfire if I had too.

My two recipe notes overlap with Sarah’s much touted wisdom. One, make sure you use chocolate chunks here. Chocolate chips will just not have the safe gooey effect (and to be honest, they won’t be as Instagram-worthy if you care about that sort of thing). Second, make sure you give these cookies a lot of room to spread. They spread more than your typical chocolate chip/chunk cookie, and more than I anticipated as my first batch melded into one super cookie. While the “super cookie” did not have the same optical effect, it was quite delicious in its own right.

Pan Banging Chocolate Chunk Cookies from the Vanilla Bean Baking Book by Sarah Keiffer

Ingredients

2 cups (284 g) all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon salt
2 sticks; 227 g unsalted butter, room temperature
1½ cups (297 g) granulated sugar
¼ cup (50 g) packed brown sugar
1 large egg
1½ teaspoons pure vanilla extract
2 tablespoons water
6 ounces (170 g) dark chocolate (60%-72%) , chopped into chunks

Directions

Preheat oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a small bowl, whisk the flour, baking soda, and salt.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter on medium speed until creamy (alternately, you can do this work by hand with a large wooden spoon, but it will take a bit longer). Add the  sugars and beat on medium until light and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the egg, vanilla, and water and mix on low to combine. Add the flour mixture and mix on low just until combined. Add the chocolate and mix on low into the batter.

Form the dough into 3½-ounce (100g) balls (a heaping 1/3 cup each). Place 4 balls of dough an equal distance apart on a prepared pan and transfer to the freezer for 15 minutes before baking. After you put the first baking sheet in the oven, put the second one in the freezer.

Place the chilled baking sheet in the oven and bake 10 minutes, until the cookies are puffed slightly in the center. Lift the side of the baking sheet up about 4 inches and gently let it drop down against the oven rack, so the edges of the cookies set and the inside falls back down (this will feel wrong, but trust me). After the cookies puff up again in 2 minutes, repeat lifting and dropping the pan. Repeat a few more times to create ridges around the edge of the cookie. Bake 16 to 18 minutes total, until the cookies have spread out and the edges are golden brown but the centers are much lighter and not fully cooked.

Transfer the baking sheet to a wire rack; let cool completely before removing the cookies from the pan.

Kinako is roasted soybean flour. This is not the same thing as run of the mill soy flour which is a) not roasted and b) defatted – stripping away the best bits of the soybean. It is primarily a Japanese ingredient (and I have no idea why it has never made a bigger splash in America). It is delicious.

I have tried to describe the taste of kinako to friends, but it is difficult to place on the American palate spectrum. If I am being lazy, I might describe it as funky peanut butter. If I feel like overreaching (i.e. attempting an  intellectual discourse about kinako) I might say it taste like roasted sesame seeds crossed with a hint of peanuts and almonds with just a touch of sweetness but not too much. Regardless, if you like to bake, and you want to experiment with a lovely but unusual (for American baked goods) flour, I highly suggest you give kinako a whirl.My first encounter with kinako ice cream (or, really, my first encounter with kinako) was at the famed Gion Kinana (I believe it is famed, but I can’t be entirely sure though it has all the makings for being “famed” in my humble opinion) in Kyoto. I love this place. I love the street it is on. I love the hyper focus on Japanese flavors. I love all the various parfaits and bits and pieces they use to create the parfaits. The horrible, capitalistic American me wanted to zip the whole thing up and bring it to New York where it would surely become an instagram sensation. Oh, and the ice cream: It was perfect. The flavors were precise, yet subtle (er, well balanced) and I could not get enough of the kinako flavor (apparently this is one of the shop’s specialties).On my last trip back to Japan, I purchased a few different versions of kinako powder with the express purpose of attempting to make this ice cream in heavy rotation for summer. I tested the powders out using a recipe from the big daddy of all ice cream books, The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz and it is every bit as addictive as I remember it. However, a few notes before you deep dive into kinako:

-David has updated his book. The new version does not include Kinako Ice Cream (no worries, I printed it below), so I highly suggest you find an old copy of The Perfect Scoop (used book stores are one of my favorite things) and purchase the new one as well.

-Kinako is an aggressive flavor. This recipe produces a very pronounced kinako flavor (of course different powders might produce different results). You can easily dial back the kinako a bit if you want to dip your toe in slowly.

-Apparently, my first taste of kinako ice cream (at Gion Kinana) was eggless and this recipe uses eggs. I will eat ice cream either way. I am easy.

-If you are looking for kinako powder, investigate local asian grocery stores OR order online (I can’t vouch for any of these brand in particular so feel free to choose the one with the prettiest packaging).

-I top this ice cream with a homemade Magic Shell because this ice cream reminds me of peanut butter ice cream and OF COURSE my life revolves around peanut butter ice cream and chocolate.

Kinako Ice Cream with Homemade Magic Shell adapted from The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz

Ingredients:

1 cup (250 ml) whole milk
¾ cup (150 g) sugar
6 tablespoons (55 g) kinako powder
pinch of salt
2 cups (500 ml) heavy cream
6 large egg yolks

Directions:

1. Whisk together the milk, sugar, kinako, and salt in a medium saucepan. Pour the cream into a large bowl and set a mesh strainer on top.

2. Warm the kinako-flavored mixture. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warm mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan.

3. Stir the mixture constantly over medium heat with a heatproof spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. Pour the custard through the strainer and stir it into the cream. Pour the mixture into a blender and purée for 30 seconds.

4. Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

5. Drizzle with home made Magic Shell chocolate topping.

While I try to cover as much new ground as possible on each trip, it is a Sisyphean task. There are literally hundreds of new restaurants and cafes opening each month in and around Tokyo as well as thousands upon thousands of long existing restaurants, treats, kiosks and specialty stores. So, while I still have yet to hit up an Owl Cafe (next time), I did unearth a treasure trove of lovely stuff on this trip.

Cremia

I am somewhat perplexed that I had not heard about Cremia on my previous trips to Japan, but I am also somewhat thankful. Turns out Cremia, the dreamiest soft-serve you will find, became something of an addiction during this Tokyo jaunt. I had 6 Cremias in 8 days and I only skipped it on the other two days due to sheer willpower and internal guilt.

The facts: Cremia (according to the Nissei site) is made up of 25% Hokkaido cream and 12.5% high fat milk. I am not sure how to describe the near ethereal taste other than “pure”. It is the unadulterated taste of fresh-from-the-cow milk that is both unexpected and welcome. Friends have described the taste as both maple-y and/or nutty but I am still in the “taste a lot like raw milk” camp. Other notes: it is not super sweet, it melts super fast (guessing there are not a lot of stabilizers) and it is served on the most lovely thin (SUPER THIN) cookie-like cone. It is also not exactly hard to find, yet it is also not super easy. It is the Where’s Waldo of the ice cream world, because it is usually right in front of you but it does not jump out. You will find bizarre storefronts that sell it (a dingy casino next to the Park Hyatt, a government (?) agriculture store in Shinkjuku, and of course “Cremia central” : Silkream in Shibuya). Whatever you do, seek it out and order one!

By the way, Cremia or no Cremia, Japan’s soft-serve culture is pretty fantastic…it is everywhere and it is good.

Park Hyatt Pastry

Let me start by saying that the Park Hyatt is just breathtaking in every way. Yes, it is quite famous for it’s starring role in Lost in Translation, but it is far more than just a faded movie prop. It is lush and serene and dazzling and the best part: you do not need to be a hotel guest to a) take in some of the best views in Tokyo or b) sample some stunning pastry provided by their newest pastry chef, James Holehouse.

James, while fairly new to Tokyo, is already incorporating several of Japan’s local fruits and flavors into the hotel desserts (as well as creating eye catching edible sculptures). With mango season around the corner, be on the lookout for his take on pandan coconut and Miyazaki mango tart. As well as a mango and coriander seed reglieuse. You can sample his wares at some of the Park Hyatt dining venues like Peak Lounge (go for afternoon tea) and keep an eye at the entrance level pastry boutique. It is exquisite.

Baguette Rabbit

I want to get married at Baguette Rabbit. The space is essentially a temple to long fermentations and beautiful baguettes and and I am 100% here for it. This location, their second (the first is in Nagoya), is in the really lovely, quaint area of Jiyugaoka – just a quick metro ride away from the insane population overload of Shinjuku / Shibuya.

Obviously, Baguette Rabbit specializes in baguettes. I counted four types (though since all signage is in Japanese I couldn’t quite decipher the exact differences between each type) with what I am guessing is different ratios of flours and (maybe) fermentation times. I tried 3 of them, and they were all exceptional – definitely some of the best I have tasted. Mirroring the trend in America, Baguette Rabbit also appears to be milling in house, though I am not sure if all or a portion of their Baked goods use 100% bakery milled flours. Oh, and be sure to pick up a few of their scones. I bought a few on a lark, and was blown away by the quality, taste and texture.

Other Reliable Eats:

There has been much written about Japan’s famous and, often wacky, Kit Kat flavors. There are many wondrous combination (Banana Kit Kat was my fave from this trip) and many that seem like more of a marketing stunt (Wasabi Kit Kat anyone?), but overall the Kit Kat phenom is fun and cheeky and they make excellent gifts. You can grab basket loads of various flavors on your way out of the country at either of the airports (Narita or Haneda) or if you are looking for an elevated Kit Kat experience (think fancier chocolate, etc…) you can check out their standalone store in Ginza or their kiosk at Takashimaya in Shinjuku.

The pizza at Seirinkan is getting lots of praise near and far and was recently featured on the new David Chang/Netflix series, Ugly Eats. I love pizza, so I had to check it out. Points to Seirinkan for only listing two types of pies – marinara and margherita, both of which were delicious. The space is great (the chef is a Beatles fan and it shows), the vibe is perfect, and if you are ever in need of a pizza fix in Tokyo you should make a reservation.

One of the happiest surprises on this trip was our last minute decision to stop at Oroji (Shinjuku) at the end of a longish day. I am a fan of tonkatsu, but the version at Oroji is bliss because it is drenched in a brown curry (er…gravy) and served over rice. The place is no-frills, but it is serving real deal comfort food in the shadows of Shinjuku’s skyscrapers.

Finally, I always seem to hit up a Bills while in Tokyo (and, usually, on my last day so maybe I am a creature of habit). The service is always pleasant, the spaces are always more than lovely, and the food is always spot on. But honestly, just get the pancakes. You won’t be disappointed.

Oh, and if you happen to find yourself in a Japanese grocery store, be sure to check out these lunatic packaged chocolate slices (think American/Kraft cheese singles but in chocolate form). I am not sure if it is brilliant or terrifying.

Most of the time I tend to make boule-like shaped, hearth-style sourdoughs (i.e. the kind you drop and bake in a large Dutch oven), but lately I have been obsessing over the perfect and simple tin loaf. In theory, I thought it was as easy as using a basic sourdough recipe (scaled to fit a loaf or Pullman-type pan) and plopping it into the new form – but, alas, as with all things sourdough it is never as simple as it first appears. Granted, the switch from Dutch oven to loaf form is not super difficult, it just requires a few tweaks (see below for details).

I have made a fair amount of tin-loaf recipes over the past year, but my favorite (and really, easiest) – the one that really makes the best toast slice you will ever have – comes from my current new obsession: Sourdough by Casper André Lugg and Martin Ivar Hveem Fjeld. I have reprinted – to the best of my ability – their recipe below (and I highly recommend you take a crack at their 50% spelt sourdough recipe as well) though I did not take you through all of the classic sourdough steps (they are lengthy and, if you are already familiar with sourdough baking, quite repetitive). If you are familiar with the Tartine style method, this method is nearly exact.

And if you need a Tartine refresher – a VERY detailed one at that – I highly recommend you take a read through of this New York Times posting. If you are a sourdough newbie and need help on how to make a starter, check out this excellent post over on The Perfect Loaf.

Before we begin – a few notes:

-I typically use an overnight leaven, but the Sourdough book uses a pretty “young” leaven (about 3 hours) for all of their recipes. I was skeptical at first. Not anymore. The bread still has a nice sour, yet you can still taste the grain, and it really works well with my schedule.

-My first few attempts at this loaf were haphazard. The bread was always delicious (and I thought it was always at optimum proof), but because you do not score this loaf, I often ended up with weird scars a la a forced oven spring. To combat this, I kept the cold fermentation long, longer than I felt comfortable with – about 18 hours – and made sure the bread rose just a hair above the pan.

-Since you do not cover the pan, it is a good idea to introduce some steam into your oven. I pour boiling water into a half sheet pan on a lower rack right before sliding the loaf in (obviously in a rack above the sheet pan).

-My apartment is cool in the winter so I tend to put my dough in the oven with only the oven light on, in between the stretch and fold cycles.

Tin Loaf from Sourdough by Casper André Lugg and Martin Ivar Hveem Fjeld

Ingredients

(for the “young” leaven)

40 grams mature starter
30 grams water at 30℃ (85℉)
15 grams fine wholegrain wheat flour
15 grams strong white bread flour

(for the bread dough)

100 grams fine wholegrain wheat flour
400 grams strong white bread flour
400 grams of water at 30℃ (85℉)
10 grams finely ground sea salt
100 grams leaven (you will use the entire leaven/no excess)

Set the Leaven
Mix the starter (which has been at room temperature for at least 6-24 hours), the water, the wheat flour and the bread flour in a large-ish bowl (ideally, you will be making and folding the bread in the same bowl). Mix well, cover the bowl and allow the leaven to mature for 2-4 hours in a warm spot in your house.

Make the Tin Loaf
Grease a 1kg/2lb loaf pan with rapeseed/canola oil. I love this pan btw. Set aside.

Pour the 400 grams of water into the bowl with the leaven. Dissolve the leaven in the water with your fingers. Add the flour. Mix it all together with your hands. Gather the dough by scraping down the excess from the edges with a spatula. Cover the bowl with a kitchen towel and let it sit for an hour.

Pinch In the Salt
Sprinkle the salt over the dough. Use your thumb an forefinger to pinch the dough together. Do this a few times until the dough begins to tighten and it becomes harder to pinch. Video example below. Let the dough rest for 30 minutes.

Favorite part of making sourdough is pinching in the salt. #sourdough #tinloaf

A post shared by Matt Lewis (@brooklynbaker) on Aug 9, 2017 at 10:48am PDT

Stretch and Fold
Dip your hand in a bowl of warm water, then push your fingers between the dough and the side of the bowl and grab the underside of the dough. Stretch it slightly and fold it over. (I think this video does a good job of showing the simple basics of the stretch and fold method). Repeat this process, working your way around the bowl, 5 to 8 times. Cover and let rest for 30 minutes. Repeat the stretching and folding twice at 30 minute intervals. After the last folding allow the dough to rest until it has increased in volume by about a third, about one hour.

Shape
Scrape the dough onto a well-floured surface. Use the dough scraper to fold the dough over itself a few times from different sides, and then all the way around so that it folds face down on the table. Use the dough scraper to firm up the dough by pushing it around from different angles. The dough should stick slightly to the table while you do this, so that it becomes taught and has thick edges. Sprinkle flour over the dough and let it rest for 20 minutes.

Final Shape
I shape this dough like any other sourdoughs and I highly recommend a video or photo tutorial (the pictures in this book provide step-by-step instructions), but in essence, you should flip the dough over so that the floured part is face down on the floured surface. Grasp the top of the dough and fold it in towards the center. Grasp the left side of the dough and fold it in towards the center, the do the same with the right side and finally the underneath until you have a square. Grab one corner, stretch it gently and fold it in towards the center. When all four corners are folded in, grasp the topside and flip the dough over so the seam is down against the surface and the smooth side is facing up. If the dough feels loose, tighten it up with the dough scraper. Video example below. Lift the dough and place seam side down in the oiled pan. Cover the pan in plastic and refrigerate (cold proof) for about 18 hours. The bread will rise just a hair above the pan.

Sometimes you just want a simple sourdough tin loaf…#sourdough #wholewheat (posting an easy recipe soon)

A post shared by Matt Lewis (@brooklynbaker) on Aug 9, 2017 at 2:45pm PDT

Baking
Organize your oven so one rack is in the middle, with another rack directly underneath it. Place a half-sized baking sheet on the lower rack. Turn the oven to 500℉ (260℃). Allow the oven to warm up for 45 minutes. About 40 minutes into the preheat, boil some water in a teakettle. Around the 45 minute mark, open the oven and carefully pour the boiling water into the sheet pan. Take the bread from the refrigerator, remove the plastic bag, and place on the rack directly above the sheet pan. Reduce the temperature to 470℉ (240℃) and bake for 20 minutes. When the timer goes off, reduce the temperature to 450℉ (230℃) and bake for another 20 minutes. Very carefully, remove the bread from the pan and place it directly on the rack on one side and bake for 3 minutes, turn it over to the other side and bake for another 3 minutes. This will produce a dark, crusty exterior. Remove and let cool for at least 4 hours before slicing.

Over the years, home bread baking has become my religion. And, at risk of sounding a tad self-help-y, there is something therapeutic about baking loaves of sourdough at home. It is one of the few times each week I can shut out the world and concentrate. I practically live for nurturing a starter, shaping the dough, and OMG that wonderful smell – you are an absolute sadist if you don’t appreciate the scent of warm, freshly baked sourdough wafting through your home.

In theory, you probably only need 4 or 5 recipes to riff on during your lifetime, but I have never been content with repetition (this is coming from someone that has made at least 30 different variations of a chocolate chip cookie within a span of 5 years). So, with each new bread book, I dig in. I look for the peculiar or different or fun recipe, and give it a go. The following crop of bread books appear to be aimed at the “slightly above novice to slightly advanced” crowd (this is just a cursory opinion and please note, I have only gone through 3 of these books as the others have not been released yet…er…at the time of writing this post).

That said, if you are looking for entry level books, I still recommend Flour Water Salt Yeast (start with the non-sourdough breads first to gain an understanding of methodologies, timing/scheduling, and basics) as well as the first Tartine Bread book (less complicated recipe for the basic Tartine loaf is here).

Alright, and now for my favorite new finds (and some that I can’t wait to get my hands on):

Sourdough by Casper André Lugg and Martin Ivar Hveem Fjeld

I am not sure when I first stumbled across the Instagram account of ille brød, but I am ever so thankful I did (one part inspiration + one part bread porn). The book which grew out of this project is perhaps my current favorite and the one I keep returning too. While the base methods are similar to Tartine (with some tweaks to the levain build), I find this book refreshingly approachable. While the authors (like many other current bread books) refer to one base methodology – exquisitely detailed at the beginning of the book – they also take care to walk you through each individual recipe with helpful headnotes as opposed to just throwing various formulas at you. Their simple Tin Loaf recipe is something I can’t stop baking and their 50% Spelt is a thing of beauty. It goes without saying that the photos are achingly beautiful. Note: this book (to the best of my knowledge) does not have a U.S. publisher so you might want to ask your local bookstore to bring it in or buy one used on Amazon or purchase via Amazon.uk.

Bageriet by Petrus Jakobsson

This book was gifted to me (ever so thankful for this gift). It is stunning, inspirational, aspirational, and completely in Swedish. I do not speak or read Swedish. Instead, I have been using the Google Translate app (with the easy to use photo translate feature) to piece together some recipes that I want to attempt. This has, of course, been a bit of a labor of love that has produced some interesting takes. For instance, the gorgeous looking Kavring recipe keeps translating as “Bitch” (Kavring is a Swedish Dark Rye)…and an instruction in the Smörfralla suggested “the drops are gay”. Homosexual drops? Happy drops? I don’t mind the detective work, and part of the fun is the discovery. And quite honestly, all the extra legwork just means I am learning more (paying more attention) and absorbing more. If you enjoy this sort of thing, I highly recommend the book. Or perhaps send a note to the editor begging for an English translation. Or, as one friend suggested, find a gorgeous Swedish person to whisper the English words in your ear.

Toast and Jam by Sarah Owens

This is perhaps one of the rare perfect follow-up books to a truly wonderful debut. I raved about Sarah’s Sourdough book when it first came out, and while I just got my hands on this book (I haven’t had a chance to bake from it yet), I am thrilled that at first glance it still has that percolating memoir feel that digs deeper than most cookbooks (well, some cookbooks aim for this but often feel less than authentic). The book is divided up into literally Toast (breads) and Jam (and spreads like nut butters and toppers like sorghum-roasted carrots). While, technically speaking, you don’t need Sarah’s first book to get a handle on her bread baking (she replicates how to begin a simple sourdough starter here), I highly recommend you purchase the first book as well. It is a true companion piece.

Meyers Bakery by Claus Meyer

The indefatigable Claus Meyer came stateside in a big way. His name is omnipresent throughout New York’s Grand Central Station with many types of savory/sweet kiosks and even one fancy restaurant. It is hard to believe that you can now grab a wonderful loaf of bread in one of the world’s busiest train stations (U.S. hubs of transportation are traditionally not known for their grab and go fare. They were – until recently – associated with Au Bon Pain and Subway and I am so happy that the times are a changing). That said, I picked up a Danish copy of this book (I assume it is the same book) when I was in Copenhagen ages ago and I am so thrilled to get an English translation. I do not have a copy of the English translation but (obviously) anticipate a strong Nordic influence. Lots of ryes and seeded loaves.

Modernist Bread by Nathan MyhrvoldI am equal parts terrified and excited about this five volume set which is well on its way to becoming a masterpiece even before full publication. While I have no doubt this this exhaustive book(s) will be thrillingly detailed and full of historical insight, it most likely will lack romance. Romance was never really the point for a book like this. It is more encyclopedia + text book, but with more visual flair. I have yet to pre-order this tome, the pricetag is eye-popping, but I will undoubtedly pick it up in a moment of weakness at 2AM while window shopping on my iPhone. This is not so much a book I crave, but I ABSOLUTELY NEED IT.

I placed a third order for lye. It is on the way supposedly. In the meantime, I paged through Luisa’s stunning book and glory be: Marmorkuchen, a German marble cake recipe. Yes, you need more marble cake recipes (as you do chocolate chip cookie recipes and banana bread recipes) and yes, you need to make this one because as Luisa notes of her friend’s marble cake recipe “Maja’s secret is stirring melted white chocolate into the plain batter”. Wait. WHAT?! This is a brilliant idea and now I need to know what other baking secrets Maja is keeping from the rest of the world.

I couldn’t find my Gugelhupf pan (I really need to organize my storage unit), so I baked this recipe in a mini-Bundt pan for an extra dose of cute (made about 10 minis for me), and the results were lovely. The white chocolate is not flavor forward, rather it just adds a certain something (a richness) to the plain portion of the cake that is completely satisfying. And the overall crumb was lighter than several of my favorite marble cakes. It was less morning gut bomb and more tea cake in texture. This is a good thing. I have already added it to my marble cake rotation, and I might even deploy the white chocolate trick to other unsuspecting vanilla-based batters.

As mentioned previously, Luisa’s book, Classic German Baking is necessary (and beautiful) and informative. For instance, did you know that children in Germany request marble cake for their birthdays? This is astounding in of itself, because after 14 years of owning a bakery I cannot remember seeing or hearing about a single kid ordering a marble cake for his or her birthday. What are we doing wrong over here? Also, I intend to make those pretzels soon. And there is a Classic Quark Cheesecake recipe that I am solely focused on if only because I had such a weird cheesecake experience in Berlin. That’s another story.

Notes on this Marmorkuchen recipe:

• Luisa suggests baking this cake a day before serving as it gets better with age. By the by, I ate one cakelet a mere 3 hours out of the oven and it was delicious, but listen to Luisa, not me.
• When baking this cake in a Bundt pan, be very mindful how much to fill it – this cake really rises (perhaps the full tablespoon of baking powder has something to do with it). For mini-Bundts, I suggest filling halfway and for large 10 and 12 cup Bundts, maybe fill just under ¾ of the way. Regardless, always best to put a baking pan under the Bundt pan just in case.
• One of my neighbors requested an all chocolate cake, so I made more chocolate batter than the recipe suggests. You can do this too but I still prefer the regularly portioned marble cake.
• I used an ice-cream scoop with release mechanism to create a “checkerboard” pattern of batter before swirling. I have always used this method, but any marble cake method will work.

Marmorkuchen – Marble Cake from Classic German Baking by Luisa Weiss

Ingredients

3 ½ ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
3 ½ ounces white chocolate, chopped
18 tablespoons unsalted high-fat, Euro-style butter, softened
1 ¼ cups sugar
¼ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 large eggs
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
3 tablespoons whole milk
confectioners’ sugar for dusting

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350℉, placing the rack in the bottom third of the oven. Liberally butter and flour a Gugelhupf or Bundt pan.

Put the bittersweet and white chocolate into two separate small stainless steel bowls that can be set over a small saucepan of simmering water, or in microwave-safe bowls. Melt the chocolates, one bowl at a time, over the saucepan of simmering water or in the microwave in small bursts, stirring after every few bursts. Set aside to cool.

Place the butter in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the flat beater attachment. Add the sugar and salt and beat until light and fluffy. Beat in the vanilla extract and then the eggs, one at at a time, scraping down the bowl after each addition, until the mixture is well combined.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour and baking powder. Beat the flour into the butter mixture. Then scrape out two-thirds of the batter into a medium bowl and stir all of the melted white chocolate into the large batch of batter until no streaks remain.

Add the melted bittersweet chocolate, cocoa powder, and milk to the remaining one-third of the batter and beat until fully combined and no streaks remain.

Scrape half of the white batter into the prepared cake pan. Top with bittersweet batter. Then scrape the remaining white batter on top. Using swooping motions, drag the blade of a knife through the batter to create a marbled cake. Place the pan in the oven and bake for 60 minutes, or until the white part of the cake is golden brown and a tester comes out clean. Bundt pan users: start testing earlier (45 minutes) and mini-Bundt users test around the 18 minute mark.

Place the pan on a rack to cool for 10 minutes before unmolding it onto the rack and letting it cool upside down. When the cake has cooled completely, dust with confectioners’ sugar, if desired, and serve. The cake can be made a day ahead. Any leftovers will keep, wrapped in plastic wrap, for 3 days at room temperature.

P.S. I know Luisa, the author, quite well. She edited our very first cookbook.

Baked’s VIP cake (Blackout) made with black cocoa. Call either store to special order one.

I have always been a fan of black cocoa powder, and I am glad to see that it is finally finding a stable home in America’s baking cupboard (often, alongside more traditional cocoa powders). And, since my original Black Cocoa Powder Cake post has been our most popular blog post year after year, I thought it was high time to revisit this ingredient and answer some of the most frequent questions we get about how to use black cocoa powder.

Perhaps the best way to illustrate and talk about black cocoa powder is to bake with it and contrast and compare it with other – more common – cocoa powders.

To do this, we used our delicious and trustworthy chocolate cake sponge – which requires a significant ¾ cup of cocoa powder – as the control. We have been making this cake since day one (that is over 12 years in case you were wondering) every single day we have been open. We make this sponge using Valrhona cocoa powder (Valrhona is Dutched … but don’t worry about these terminologies just yet…I’ll explain it more below). We also made a sponge using Hershey’s (a very VERY common cocoa powder that is natural er…not Dutched) and then our final sponge was made entirely with black cocoa powder (think of this as super-Dutched).

The questions going in: Obviously, we knew first and foremost that the black cocoa would make a very black cake. Sexy black. But, we wanted to know how it would affect the taste, texture, and rise.

The results: All three cakes had an identical rise and an identical texture. There was concern that the leaveners would have to be adjusted for Dutched vs. All-Natural (again, we will address later) but in this recipe we didn’t change a thing and it didn’t matter.

Surprisingly, or maybe not that surprising, all three had admirers in the “taste” category. Note: it was really hard to blind taste test this cake as the sponge colors practically scream which cocoa powder was used (and we didn’t actually put blindfolds on anyone) …but…

-the Hershey’s cake scored some points. Personally, I think it tasted like the 80’s – or what my mom made from a box mix in the 80’s – and this is not a bad thing, but I thought it lacked nuance, while the fans of this cake liked the fact that it tasted more “chocolatey” than the other two.

-the Valrhona cake was probably the winner, but not the full-on crazy favorite. It is definitely my number one. It had balance – a chocolate/bitter balance – and elements of tasting both “kid-friendly” and “totally adult” at the same time. I also love the color of this cake. It is not trying to make a statement, but it is beautiful all the same.

-the black cocoa cake was liked, a lot, by our pastry chef. She loved the bitter notes (the chocolate flavor is buried under the bitterness IMHO), especially contrasted against the sweetness of the frosting. And how can you not fall in love with the color of this cake? It is seductive.

Overall, I feel like I have had more variation when subbing different brands of chocolate in desserts (apples to apples comparison using the same cacao content). Ultimately, when choosing a cocoa powder, I suggest you make two choices:

1. What color are you going for? and 2. What flavor profile and contrast are you trying to achieve (sweet and bitter/bitter and bitter/ sweet and chocolatey)?…

Now the science-y part: I will be brief here as both David Lebovitz and Sally and Serious Eats have provided much more meaningful posts on the subject of cocoa powder.

-Generally speaking, Dutched cocoa powder is cocoa powder that has been treated with an alkaline solution to neutralize acidity. Dutched powder is often darker in color (i.e. black cocoa powder is ultra Dutched) and while it has a smoother taste, I find it often tastes less chocolate-like. Natural cocoa powder is not Dutched – it is natural (yup, you probably figured that out) and it is often lighter in color.

-Now, I know my test results above suggest you can basically swap cocoa willy-nilly and you can definitely give it whirl without worrying about an oven explosion or recipe melt-down, BUT the internets are on fire with the following advice:

If you are using a recipe without any baking soda or baking powder (sauces, frostings, etc..), you can absolutely swap Dutched for natural and vice-versa without any issue.

If you are using a recipe that only requires half a cup of cocoa powder or less, I wouldn’t worry either way as the amount is so little.

If you are using a recipe that calls for baking soda, go natural. 

If you are using a recipe that calls for baking powder, go Dutch.

If you are using a recipe that calls for both baking powder and baking soda, you can likely get away with either if the amount of cocoa is under ¾ cup. 

And honestly, if I am just riffing around at home, I tend to blend my own mix of Valrhona and black cocoa and sometimes even the natural stuff.

Oh, and I leave you with one last thing to further confuse the cocoa-addled brain. I have seen some people refer to Dutch-process as having more “chocolate flavor”. I do not get this at all.  In fact, as mentioned above, I would almost always say that I believe the opposite to be true. I think Dutch process imparts some impactful notes like a nice bittersweet candy bar, but each to his own.

I am desperately trying to “Marie Kondo” my life right now, because I don’t really have a choice. My apartment is tiny by national standards and average by New York City standards and I am running out of room. Precious square feet are being eaten alive by big, beautiful, gorgeous books. So, I pile them up – giant swaying towers – and organize them and (sort of) fondle them and hope they “spark joy”. Many do. I keep these. Other’s don’t. These go to The Strand or Housing Works. I am setting them free.

Again I don’t have a choice. I have to make room for all of the wonderful new cookbooks (and fiction and non-fiction and art books) coming this fall. Some of the below I already have in my possession. Some I have seen only in pre-release snippets. The rest will be in my kitchen soon. It is an embarrassment of riches and I can’t wait to share them with you.

Classic German Baking by Luisa Weiss

Let me tell you why you need this book: First, the author is a friend (she was our first cookbook editor), she writes a brilliant blog, and her first book – a memoir – was as comfy as a roaring fire in a log cabin in winter. Another reason you need this book: the recipes. Yes, it is a compendium – without being overwhelming – of all the German greats. Some of my current faves: Butterkuchen (Butter-Almond Cake) and Brezeln (Soft Pretzels) but I also have my eye on the Russischer Zupfkuchen (Chocolate Quark Cheesecake), which I have yet to make.

Reprinted with permission from Classic German Baking, copyright 2016 by Luisa Weiss. Published by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. Photography copyright 2016 by Aubrie Pick

Reprinted with permission from Classic German Baking, copyright 2016 by Luisa Weiss. Published by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. Photography copyright 2016 by Aubrie Pick

The Rye Baker by Stanley Ginsberg

This book is coming at the exact moment in time that I need it. Yes, I NEED IT. I have been on a home bread-baking/sourdough tear for nearly four years now and yet rye still puzzles me. I have made really great rye breads and really terrible ones and yet, I still can’t get a feel for rye. I can’t instinctually tell where it all goes so wrong or so right for me. Stanley’s book promises all sorts of rye insights and in-depth recipes spanning the globe and I can’t wait to spend all of January (seems like the best month to get down and dirty with rye) hunkered down with some freshly milled rye and this book.

GOST Borodinski for Rye Bread Cookbook 2016

East Berlin Malt Rye for Rye Bread Cookbook 2016

Butter and Scotch by Allison Kave and Keavy Landreth

I dare you to find another book that pairs desserts and booze so perfectly. As you know, I am already in love with Allison’s prior book, First Prize Pies – and her second outing (with co-author Keavy Landreth) is just as fun as the first. Actually, considering that this book has three takes on boozy caramel corn (Dark and Stormy Caramel corn please) I would venture to say that this book is even more of a pleasure to cook from. And the next time you visit New York City, I highly recommend a visit to the Author’s bakery/bar hybrid from which the book is named.

Dorie’s Cookies by Dorie Greenspan

Confession: I have not seen previews of this book yet, but I own all of Dorie’s previous tomes and treasure them with a near religiosity. This one looks like another “must-have” and I am always down for cookies. By the way, on the few occasions I have met Dorie, I have basically fallen in love. She is as kind and sweet and smart as they come.

Tasting Rome by Katie Parla and Kristina Gill

This is not a fall release (it was released earlier this year) but – if you care about me at all – I insist you go buy this book. This book gave me so many feelings. First, it is a love letter to Rome. And I LOVE ROME. So many lovely photos and notes about Rome and food and history and the intersection of all three. And the recipes…Oh, I could go on about the recipes. I have made so many wonderful things from this book and I fully intend to share them with you once I figure out how to properly photograph pollo alla romana or supplì cacio e pepe (one of my favorite recipes thus far from this book).

Better Baking: Wholesome Ingredients, Delicious Desserts by Genevive Ko

I got an early peek into this book and was ecstatic. We even blurbed it:

“Better Baking is pure joy. The recipes, while casually tricked up with more wholesome ingredients than your typical baking compendium, never feel like lectures on nutrition. Instead, each recipe pops off the page – a blend of elegance and fun. Oh, and do yourself a favor, run home with this book and make the Double-Date Sticky Toffee Pudding Cakes stat. They have become our go-to dinner party dessert.”

I have made a bunch of recipes from this book, and I love the way Genevieve has incorporated alternative flours and fats into near classic recipes without any straining. Instead of feeling belabored, the recipes let the (better for you) ingredients shine. Next up on my list: Buckwheat Cocoa Banana Bread Bars.

Small Victories by Julia Turshen

I bake quite often, but cook infrequently. And, if I cook, I tend to skew Italian (well, actually, I always skew Italian). In an effort to branch out and renew inspiration, I have immersed myself in a handful of cookbooks, but it is Small Victories by Julia Turshen that I have been returning to over and over again as of late. Julia’s recipes exude an effortlessness – a casual coziness – that so many cookbooks lack. Not only are the recipes accessible, but they have a simple, clean-eating vibe (not for nothing but Julia co-wrote Gwyneth Paltrow’s whopper of a best-seller It’s All Good). I have made many successful dinners from this book, but I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that the Kinda, Sorta Patatas Bravas is an instant classic. Oh, and the Small Victories in the title – these are the tips and ideas and know-how that Julia folds into every recipe.

The Good Fork Cookbook by Sohui Kim

I am so thrilled that our Red Hook neighbors, The Good Fork, are publishing a cookbook. Though I have yet to see an early peek of the book, I have been to the restaurant many times and will go many more. Sohui and Ben, the wife and husband owners, have created the rare hybrid of both a beloved neighborhood joint and dining destination. It is everything you want a restaurant to be – warm, cozy and delicious. The cookbook promises to include the famed Korean-Style Steak and Eggs and Buttermilk Fried Chicken and Waffles. And if you haven’t been to their place in Red Hook: please go as soon as humanly possible.

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I am sure there are so many more wonderful books I missed and for that I am deeply sorry. I can only squeeze so many books on to my shelves. Get in touch with me (via comments section or social) to let me know about any “must-have” titles I missed. And, as always, happy Fall baking/cooking.

photo by Chris Richey

I suppose, in the end, it was always about Japan. It had to be. It wasn’t obvious, of course. This is the kind of thing that sneaks up on you. This is the kind of thing that rattles around your subconscious—a slight pinging of the brain. Like sonar. Then it surfaces, seeking oxygen, and unexpectedly—12-plus years later—it all (almost) makes sense. This is what is was all about. All the debris and cloudy judgments and long days and vacations cut short and sleepless nights and false alarms and brittle relationships fade away (at the very least, they recede temporarily). And suddenly, like a mirage in the desert, Baked is opening in Tokyo.

We (Renato/myself) didn’t plot this. Not overtly. How could we? When we opened our first store in 2005 in Red Hook, Brooklyn, we were just looking to cover overhead, pay ourselves on occasion (a very rare occurrence back then), not kill each other (few near misses, but we are both still standing), and figure out how to scale our business (oh, the importance of scale on so many levels eluded us for a bit). However, if you dig deep, there were signposts. Some obvious. Renato’s prior company was a design firm called Big in Japan (no relation to the current URL in use). The world is telling you something, the world is telling you something, the world is telling you something.

Renato pre-Baked

And, oddly, some of our more interesting and earliest press came from Japanese publications and TV Shows. Also, I have always had a thing for KitKats (and Japan really has a thing for them). But it is a long, bumpy, grimy, pockmarked New York City road from “liking KitKats” to opening a store in the center of Tokyo in one of the most prestigious locations in that country. (By the by, we are opening in Isetan’s famous food hall and will be elbow to elbow with some of our heroes like JeanPaul Hévin and Pierre Hermé and, oh, yeah…full press release here : most likely translated – poorly – via your browser).

I will spare you the details. There are 12-plus years of details and while there are many triumphs, there are some details that are too painful or too boring to recount here. But here is what you need to know: We opened our first store 12 years ago. We opened our second (really our second-and-a-half…but long story) about one and a half years ago in Tribeca. And our third store is opening in Japan on August 24th. We are overjoyed to be opening in Tokyo. If Baked has a lifespan, perhaps this is the midway point. The Tokyo opening represents coming “half-circle” not only by opening half-way around the world, but it also represents us, the owners. This is where we are now: approaching middle age with our baby.

As mentioned, Japan was most likely fated. Renato, self-diagnosed with mild OCD, is in awe of the cleanest country in the world. There is a beauty and comfort with which the citizens inherently care for their surroundings here. It has to be seen and experienced. The energy is ebullient. I have always been drawn to 24/7 cities (I do live in New York and I fancy Las Vegas), and there is a buzz in Tokyo that is fresh and pleasant and doesn’t really exist in other like-minded hubs. The fashion and food are, of course, on point. The odd curiosities (the Owl bars, the Robot Restaurant thing) are well, wonderful odd curiosities. And this is the country that reinvented a toaster. I fucking love toast.

photo by Chris Richey

So, if you happen to be visiting Tokyo after August 24th please visit our mini-Baked in Isetan. We are very proud of it. Let us know if you check out our new outpost: Send us a message, tag us in a photo (#BakedTokyo), tell us your dreams.

Photo by Chris Richey