One of the first “recipes” on this blog was No-Recipe Cherry Jam, posted in 2005, which wasn’t quite a recipe. Nevertheless, a lot of people successfully used those guidelines to make cherry jam over the last fifteen years. The basis for it was how I’ve been making jam forever, using 3 parts sugar to 4 parts fruit puree. The standard ratio is to use equal parts sugar to fruit puree but I like to use less.

I often make cherry jam with sweet cherries, which are what one usually finds at the market. But if you can find sour cherries, those are wonderful in the mix, but when fresh, they have a short shelf life so should be used, pronto.

So feel free to mix things up, cherry-wise!

Unlike other recipes, making jam can require a bit of using your instincts, rather than relying on set times and temperatures. Checking the jam texture on a chilled plate is the best way to tell you when it’s done. (As an example, jam usually sets between 218-220ºF,103-104ºC, but this one set a few degrees higher.) Because cherries are low in pectin, this one often “sets” a few degrees higher, although don’t expect cherry jam to be as stiff as other jams that you might be used to, or buy. It’ll be a bit runny, which is just how it should be.

One tool I do recommend is a cherry pitter. Not everyone has one, and they do fall into the “single use” category, but come cherry season, mine gets a good workout. I wrote more about why you should get a cherry pitter here.

The biggest question I get about jam recipes is people asking about reducing the amount of sugar in them. Sugar in jam does a couple of things. One, it helps the mixture jell, along with any natural pectin in the fruit. And two, it preserves it. If you use less, the jam will be runnier and won’t last as long.

Europeans tend to like their jams runnier than their American counterparts, so in the morning, you can have a European experience when you spoon some of this jam on your morning toast, as we do.

Unlike other jams that wrinkle when you do the wrinkle test (putting a spoonful of jam on a frozen plate, returning the plate to the freezer and when the jam wrinkles with you nudge it, it’s done), this one will be more like thickened syrup. It’s done when it’s thick and sticky and holds its shape for a few moments after you drag a spoon through it (below.) The cherries will be shiny and glossy, like beautiful ruby-colored jewels.

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Cherry Jam

If you only have 1 pound (450g) of cherries, feel free to cut the recipe in half. The liqueur is optional but heightens the flavors of the jam. Use only enough so it complements the fruit – you don't want to overwhelm it. As mentioned, this jam will be a bit on the runny side when "set." Sour cherries will produce a softer-set jam than sweet cherries.

Course Breakfast

Cuisine American

Keyword cherries, cherry, jam

Ingredients

• 2 pounds (900g) sweet or sour cherries or a mix
• 2 1/2 cups (500g) sugar
• freshly squeezed juice of one medium lemon plus additional juice if desired
• 1-2 drops of almond extract or 1-2 teaspoons of kirsch or another liqueur, such as amaretto or vodka

Instructions

• Remove the stems and pit the cherries. Put them in a large non-reactive pot. If using only sweet cherries, add 2-3 tablespoons of water to the pot. (Sour cherries will exude enough liquid on their own so no need to add additional water.) Put a small plate or saucer in the freezer.
• Cover the pot and cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the cherries are wilted and cooked through, about 10 minutes.
• Remove the lid and stir in the sugar and lemon juice. Increase the heat to medium-high and cook, stirring frequently until the mixture thickens. It's hard to say how long it will take, but when the mixture resembles the sixth picture in the post, the one in the pot with the bubbles, turn off the heat and test the jam by putting a small spoonful on the frozen dish. Return the dish to the freezer for a few minutes until the jam on it is cool. Run a spoon through it and if the liquid is very thick and leaves a clear patch, as shown in the photo in the post, it's done. If not, return the plate to the freezer and continue to cook the jam, testing it at various intervals, until it's done. (If you want to use a thermometer to check the jam, it should be ready somewhere between 220º and 225ºF, 104º-107ºC.)
• When ready, turn off the heat and stir in the almond extract or liqueur (or both, if you wish). If desired, you could add an extra squeeze of lemon juice to balance the sweetness. Ladle into clean jars.

Notes

Storage: This jam will last several weeks in the refrigerator. If you wish to can it, you can find instructions here.

 

I had so much fun when Deb Perelman of Smitten Kitchen came to my kitchen in Paris and made a batch of Chocolate-Olive Oil Spread, a delicious recipe from The Great Book of Chocolate.

The spread is easy (and fun!) to make, and is just one of the more than 50 recipes in the book, which includes Chocolate Mug Cakes, award-winning Blue Chip Chocolate Chip Cookies, Individual Warm Chocolate Cakes, Chocolate Truffles, Homemade Rocky Road, Chili with Chocolate, and lots more.

You can find the recipe for the Chocolate-Olive Oil Spread in my newsletter, too!

Get your copy of The Great Book of Chocolate at your local bookstore or online retailer from one of these links:

Amazon | Bookshop.org | Now Serving | Barnes & Noble | Omnivore | Book Larder | Kitchen Arts & Letters | Bold Fork | Books are Magic | Amazon France | Powell’s | RJ Julia | Strand | Smith & Son Paris | Amazon UK | Politics and Prose | Vivienne Culinary Books | Book Passage | Elliot Bay | Village Books | East End Books | Indigo Canada

I was recently gifted an overload of strawberries: I bought four baskets from a vendor at the market, whose booth I shop at often, and he threw in two extra baskets for free, the equivalent of a carte de fidelité (loyalty card) in Paris. So I’ve spent the past few days washing, hulling, cutting and cooking my unexpected bounty.

I’ve been making a number of things with the gorgeous strawberries. But I also realized that while I have a Strawberry-Rhubarb Jam recipe on the site, I didn’t have a strawberry jam. So here it is.

Although I’m giving you a recipe for the amount of strawberries that I used, you can use the same proportions if you have just a basket…or a bushel. You’ll just need to do a slight amount of math. Only the cooking time will change, so keep an eye on things.

Jam-making is not something you walk away from and you need to rely more on look and feel, rather than exact times. Another thing about jam-making is that fruit and berry jams are always better made in small batches; the shorter the cooking time, the better the flavor. So if you have more than 2-pounds (900g) of strawberries, consider making jam in a couple of batches rather than one big one.

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Strawberry Jam

Many traditional recipes use an equal amount of sugar to fruit, by weight, but I find it’s okay to decrease it to these proportions. Sugar is both a thickener and a preservation agent. If you reduce it too much more, your jam may not thicken and won’t keep for a long time. (Which is okay if you want thinner jam, you keep it in the refrigerator, and eat it relatively quickly.) This recipe can be scaled up or down, depending on how many strawberries you have. But if you want to make a lot more, best to make it in a couple of batches. To prepare the jars, pour boiling water into them, as well as into the lids. Let them sit 5-10 minutes, then carefully pour out the hot water and set them upside down on a cooling rack until ready to fill. Since I keep my jams in the refrigerator, I don’t put them up them in a traditional sense. I usually just overturn the jars and let them cool, which provides a reasonable seal, then refrigerate them. I find my jams keep well this way for up to one year. Check the National Center for Home Food Preservation website for instructions on how to can fruit jams. Note: Last season strawberries tend to have less natural pectin than ones that arrive earlier. So your jam may be less jelled. One strategy is the finely grate a green apple into the strawberries before cooking them, which adds pectin. (There are guidelines here for using liquid and powdered pectin.) I don’t mind the slightly runnier jam and it’s terrific on yogurt or served with fresh goat cheese for dessert.

Ingredients

• 2 pounds (900g) strawberries
• 1 1/4 pounds (2 2/3 cups, 580g) sugar
• one lemon organic or unsprayed
• optional: kirsch (or eau-de-vie, or crème de cassis)

Instructions

• Wash and hull the strawberries and cut them into quarters. If some are larger or smaller, just make sure the pieces all about the same size.
• 2. Toss them in a large pot, such as a Dutch oven casserole made of a nonreactive material, with the sugar. Cut the lemon in half, squeeze the juice into the pot, and add the lemon halves to the berries. Stir well, cover, and let sit a couple of hours (up to 8 hours) at room temperature, stirring one or two times while they marinate.
• Put a small plate in the freezer. Turn the heat on under the strawberries to medium-high and cook the strawberries, stirring occasionally, as they reduce and the juices thicken. If a lot of foam rises to the surface, skim it away. When the syrup is the consistency of warm maple syrup – it will take about 10 to 15 minutes or so, depending on the pot and berries, turn off the heat and put a spoonful of the jam on the frozen plate and return the plate to the freezer. Check it in a few minutes; if it wrinkles when you nudge it, it’s done. If not, return the plate to the freezer and cook the jam a little more, testing it again. It may take a few times before you get it to the right consistency.
• When the strawberry jam is done, remove the lemon and stir in a few drops of kirsch, if using, then ladle the jam into the prepared jars.

Related Recipes and Links

Apricot Jam

No-Recipe Cherry Jam

Pickled Strawberries

Easy Jam Tart

Eggplant Jam

Baking Ingredients and Substitutions

Being a baker, summer is my favorite time of year. Not only are peaches, nectarines, cherries and plums abundant at the market, but as the seasons progress, the volume of fruits lowers the price, and I stock up on whatever I can, whenever I can.

At Paris markets, I try to search out producteurs, the vendors who grow the food they sell, and every summer, one in particular shows up at my market with lots of Reine Claude and mirabelle plums, a few different varieties of cherries, plump melons that you can smell standing a few feet away, tender figs, and fresh apricots.

Making the shopping experience even better, were the fellows who sold the fruits. Not only were they easy on the eyes, but they often put punky-looking cherries in baskets, labeling them “for clafoutis” (a nicer way of saying “for baking”) and selling them at a reduced price. This year, there seems to have been a turnover in staff – zut – but the replacements also offer up the imperfect fruit, or even an overload, at a discount.

The last couple of weeks, they’ve had small lugs of fresh apricots offered up at €5 for 3 kilos, about a dollar a pound. Fortunately, I live close to the market and hauled one home the first time I saw them, along with everything else I had bought, which I used to make apricot jam. If they ever do a show called Fruit Hoarders, I will likely be the star of the premiere episode, because I went back a few times and bought several more cases of fresh apricots. (Lest you think that I was mostly shopping there because of les beaux mecs.)

With over a dozen jars of apricot jam all packed up, I still had apricots coming out of the wazoo, so decided to bake up an apricot galette. When baking a free-form, fresh fruit tart, such as this, it’s good to have a strategy to deal with any excess fruit juices that might ooze out, which is especially true of apricots; like most stone fruits, some varieties exude a lot of juice.

When I baked at Chez Panisse, we used something we made, that someone dubbed “Moon Dust.” Which, because I can never leave anything alone, I nicknamed “Lunar Lint.” It was a mix of flour, almond meal, sugar and crushed amaretti cookies.

Because it was Sunday in Paris, and most stores are closed, I couldn’t go on a hunt for amaretti cookies. But no matter what the day – they’re rather hard to find. So I used to buy them and keep them in my cabinet, but found I was snacking on them, rather than saving them for lunaire lint. (And yes, I’ve got a recipe for amaretti in Ready for Dessert, but I didn’t have time to DIY everything, especially after making several batches of jam, and cleaning up after each one.)

The apricots that I used were a little more restrained, and not much juice gushed out during baking. Still, no one called me out, saying the frangipane wasn’t necessary. In fact, my guests loved the thin, flavorful layer of almond cream under the fruit, which complimented the apricots and cherries, which, as the younger generation says these days, was a sick combination.

I’m still not on board with that word, so I’ll go back to my California roots and say the combination was “awesome,” or in French, they’d say it was chouette (an owl). Depending on where you live, you can make this galette with other stone fruits, or even figs, pears or apples, when they’re in season. I don’t give a hoot which ones you use, but do give it a go with the frangipane. One bite, and you’ll agree that it’s a wise move to use it.

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Summer Fruit Galette

Normally apricots give up a lot of juice when baked, but these late-season ones didn't. Fruit varies in moisture but the nice thing about the layer of frangipane is that it keeps the tart dough crisp on the bottom, in case your fruit is juicy. You can use walnut or hazelnut flour in place of the almond flour. You can certainly use other fruits, such as sliced nectarines, peaches (peeled or unpeeled), plums, or figs. You'll need about 1 1/2 pounds (700g) of fruit. More important than precise numbers to follow, it's best to try to push the fruit as close together as possible, or if using sliced fruit, to overlap it as much as possible, because it'll cook down during baking. You can also make this without the frangipane but you may want to sprinkle the bottom of the tart dough with some crumbled cookies, nuts or flour, or toss the fruit in 1 to 2 teaspoons of cornstarch if the fruit is particularly juicy, although I prefer using frangipane. That's why I gave you the recipe. (And because my "Lunar "Lint" recipe makes enough for 12 to 18 tarts.) Update: A reader pointed out that ground almonds can sometimes be wanting in flavor, so I often add almond extract. The amount can vary, to taste, but since it's getting baked, you might want to err on the stronger side. (Although I know some people don't like that flavor when it's too strong.) You can also swap out raspberries or blueberries for the cherries, using them to fill in the spaces between the fruit. I add the cherries at the beginning, but if using raspberries or blueberries, you can add them during the last 15 minutes or so of baking. Just before baking the tart, I sprinkled mine with organic cane sugar, which you can see in the photo. It's a little coarser than granulated white sugar. I like it because it doesn't melt so easily, and I enjoy the crunchy crystals in the crust. But feel free to use either regular granulated sugar, if that's what you've got. Just be sure not to be too stingy with it; the crackly crust (to some of us) with lots of juicy fruit tucked underneath, is the best part!

Servings 8 servings

Ingredients

For the galette dough

• 1 1/4 cup (175g) all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 7 tablespoons (100g, 3 1/2 ounces) unsalted butter cubed and chilled
• 3 1/2 to 4 tablespoons ice water

For the frangipane

• 3/4 cup (95g) almond flour
• 1/4 cup (50g) sugar
• 2 tablespoons (20g) all-purpose flour
• 2 tablespoons (30g, 1 ounce) unsalted butter at room temperature
• 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon pure almond extract
• 1 large egg, at room temperature

For the fruit galette

• 1 1/2 pounds (700g) fresh apricots, halved and pitted, or quartered if large (see headnote for other fruits that can be used)
• 18-20 cherries, sweet or tart, pitted
• 1 tablespoon (15g, 1/2 ounce) unsalted butter melted
• 2 tablespoons sugar (or organic cane sugar) see headnote
• strained apricot jam, for glazing the tart

Instructions

To make the dough

• To make the dough, mix together the flour, sugar, and salt in a medium bowl, or in the bowl of a stand mixer.
• Add the cubed butter and mix, using a pastry blender (or the paddle attachment if using a stand mixer), until the butter is in small, but still visible pieces, about the size of corn kernels.
• Add the 3 1/2 tablespoons of ice water and mix until the dough starts to come together. If it feels dry, add an additional 1/2 tablespoon of ice water. Form the dough into a disk with your hands, wrap it in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

To make the frangipane

• In a small bowl, mix together the almond flour, sugar, and all-purpose flour. Add the butter and almond extract, and mix in with a spatula until smooth. Mix in the egg.

To make the tart

• Preheat the oven to 375ºF (190ºC). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
• On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough to a 14-inch (35cm) circle, turning it over and dusting lightly with flour, to keep it from sticking to the counter.
• Brush off any excess flour and transfer the dough to the prepared baking sheet. (At this point, you may want to chill the dough for a few minutes, as the frangipane may be a bit tricky to spread if the dough feels warm.)
• Smear the frangipane on the tart dough, leaving a 2-inch (5cm) rim around the edges. Place the apricots on the frangipane and put cherries in the spaces between the apricots. Fold the edges of the dough over the fruit to make a crust. After pleating and folding the rim, make sure there are no "gullies" in the pleats, for fruit juices to run out of.
• Brush the rim of the crust generously with melted butter then brush the remaining butter over the fruit. Sprinkle the rim with about 1 tablespoons of sugar. Then sprinkle another 1 tablespoon over the fruit. (If using fruits like nectarines and peaches, you can reduce the sugar to a few teaspoons.)
• Bake the tart until the crust is well-browned and the fruit is cooked through, about 50 minutes. Remove from the oven and let the tart cool for 5 to 10 minutes, then brush the top with apricot jam.

Notes

Serving: Serve with a compatible ice cream, such as vanilla, crème fraîche or noyau ice cream. (The last two are in my books, The Perfect Scoop, and My Paris Kitchen, respectively), or another favorite flavor. A dollop of crème fraîche, sabayon, or softly whipped cream are other options. (Although often I like it just as it is.)

Storage: The dough can be made up to two days ahead and refrigerated, or it can be frozen for up to two months. The tart is best enjoyed the same day it's made, but is okay the second day.

Related Links and Recipes

Summer Fruit Tart with Almond Cream

What is almond flour?

Baking Ingredients and Substitutions

Gluten-Free Apricot and Mascarpone Galette (Bojon Gourmet)

Almond Cake

It’s summer! Whether you’re in or outdoors, hopefully for all of you there are beautiful summer fruits and berries to be had, and I hope that you’re able to get your hands on as many of them as you can. I am loading (actually, overloading…) myself up at the market. While a good portion on the fresh fruit gets eaten just as-is, some of it goes into the following dessert recipes that I continue to make year after year. Others go into jam, which is a great way to preserve all those summer fruits and berries, and make them last through fall and winter.

Cherry season is behind most of us (sniff…sniff…), but if they are still lingering where you live, you can type “cherry” or “cherries” into the search engine at the top right corner of the page to find cherry recipes. (And we don’t get a bountiful array of fresh raspberries and blackberries here, so I don’t have many recipes that use them on the blog.) But for nectarines, strawberries, peaches, plums and other summer fruits, here are some of my favorite recipes on the blog…

Summer Fruit Galette with Frangipane

I’ve seen so many galettes this year on social media, that it’s tempting to already call galettes The Dessert of the Year. (Okay, there were plenty of Banana Breads as well. And it’s hard to knock Banana Bread, even my low(er) fat one.) But for the bang-for-the-buck, it’s hard to beat the silly-easy galette, made with a fail-safe dough that gets rolled out, topped with fresh fruit, and baked until ripe ‘n ready. Mine has a layer of frangipane under the fruit to keep some of those juices away from the bottom crust, so it stays crisp. It also tastes good, too! Apricots work especially well in this one but you can use nectarines, plums, peaches, or…

Strawberry Rhubarb Galette

…rhubarb and strawberries! Yes, the classic combo works well as a galette, too. But don’t let tradition stand in the way of deliciousness and you can swap out cherries, raspberries, or blackberries for the strawberries.

Apricot Jam

When I was a cook in upstate New York back in the 1980s (!) I remember someone brought us a (as in 1) basket of fresh apricots from California, which I’d never seen before. I made a simple tart with them and only eight lucky customers could get a taste of it. (Or maybe I cut it into ten?) Fast-forward to today, summer brings a cavalcade of fresh apricots to the markets and toward the end of the season, I don’t have time to shed any tears as I’m piling apricot jam into pots, to save them for the coming months. It’s Romain’s favorite jam so I make sure there’s enough to keep him happy, because I’ve learned what happens when I don’t : 0

Summer Fruit Tart (with frangipane)

Another summer fruit favorite, yes, with more almond cream than the galettes above, this is that classic French tart that you’ll find in many pastry shops all year round, using everything from pears to pineapple. Don’t love almonds, or want to take it in a different direction? Replace the almonds with hazelnuts for a special treat.

Plum-Strawberry Jam

While apricots are Romain’s favorite for jam, I am 100% on team plum. The luscious tang of juicy plum, and the high natural pectin content, makes this one of the easiest jams to make. And it’s not too difficult to eat, either.

Plum Sorbet

While I miss the purple Santa Rose and Elephant Heart plums we got in California, France has its own special selection of delectable plums, including Mirabelles, quetsches, and even wild plums. While the wild plum trees that we used to pick/glean from have been pruned by the absentee owners (phooey!) we found another source last summer. And the only thing better than free plums is free wild plums, which come in an array of snazzy colors and are extra tangy, perfect for those of us that like some pucker in our pastries.

Plum Flaugnarde

The cousin of clafoutis, this flaugnarde features a jumble of plums baked in a silky custard. They’re so pretty I almost hate to bake them. But then, when I pull it out of the oven, I’m happy to have a beautiful baked gratin dish of custardy plums for dessert on a warm summer night.

Plum-Rhubarb Crisp

Two tart fruits come together, baked under a buttery blanket of streusel. If these two bedfellows are available at the same time where you live, you’re doubly lucky!

Mirabelle Jam

The elusive Mirabelle plums have a cult-like following and while some mistakenly think they aren’t available in the U.S. (they were briefly banned a few years ago), if you’re lucky, you can indeed find them. They’re intensely flavored and sweeter than other plums, and make a wonderful confiture with jewel-like fruits suspended in a shimmering jelly, which are lovely heaped on toast in the morning. (If you want to get a taste of Mirabelles but can’t find them, Bonne Maman makes a golden plum Mirabelle jam that’s exported from France.)

Angel Food Cake

While I wasn’t a fan of Angel Food Cake growing up, which my mother usually made to accompany strawberries, I became a convert as a grown-up. Perhaps it had to do with writing an ice cream book and having an overload of egg whites to use up. (And Angel Food Cake is an express route to doing that.) Nevertheless it’s a treat along with summer fruits and berries, either baked as a compote or fresh, tossed in a little sugar and perhaps a dash of crème de cassis. The spongy cake is an ideal way to make sure you get every drop of the fruit syrup that’s surrounding the airy slab. It’s French cousin, Gâteau de savoie, is equally enjoyable, and doesn’t require an Angel Food Cake pan.

Roasted Strawberry Miso Ice Cream

Roasting strawberries is lesser-known way of coaxing out their flavor, but works well when making ice cream as it concentrates them and reduced the water, so the ice cream stays creamier. Adding a touch of salty miso provides a curious contrast to the berries juicy sweetness, and a little umami to boot.

Strawberry Spritz

Once you make the (very) easy base for this Strawberry Spritz, you can use it to make Strawberry Margaritas, too. (And if you’ve got a hankering for a classic Spritz, I’ve got you covered there, too.) But this Spritz is a great, light apéritif to enjoy all season long. I was drinking lots of these a few weeks ago when strawberries were at their peak. If they available where you live, go infuse some in vermouth blanc for a great spring/summer sipper.

Spiced Plum Cake with Toffee Glaze

Toffee glaze is one of those things you could put on an old sneaker, and it would make those dilapidated Reeboks taste great. Even better (and more recommended) is this spiced plum cake, which isn’t too rich or too sweet. Crunchy toasted almonds on top are a nice contrast to the buttery glaze.

Peach Shortcakes with Butterscotch Sauce

Speaking of buttery sauces, butterscotch with peaches is a natural. Grammar-correct keeps asking me: A natural what? But I think you can figure that out. If not, give them a try together and you’ll see what I’m talking about.

Vin de pêche

If you’re fortunate enough to have a peach tree or can get some of the leaves, they lend a delicate almond-like flavor to this intriguing apéritif wine. I try to make a few bottles every year and serve chilled glasses as the season’s change, reminding me of summer, and reminding me that the light almond flavor of peach leaves in wine is something to put on my calendar for the following year.

Bourbon Peach Cooler

Peaches and bourbon are natural partners, and they don’t mind sharing space in a tumbler with the classic French apéritif, Bonal. But not to worry if you don’t have it; I offer some substitutes that you might already have on your liquor shelf. This cocktail isn’t just pretty, it’s also a pretty effective way to beat the heat. (Yup, nectarines or plums could replace the peaches, if you’re so inclined.)

Nectarine-Berry Popsicles

A vintage metal popsicle mold that was a find at a flea market prompted these summer ‘sicles. You can load ’em up with berries and since I used white nectarines, the popsicles were extra-pretty in pink. But anyone would say “yes” to them in yellow, if you go with standard nectarines.

Mixed Berry Shortcakes

Mixed berry anything automatically makes something my favorite dessert. I love, love, love the juicy tumble of strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, red currants, or whatever else you’ve got. Bring the berries on!

Blueberry Cobbler

While I am nostalgic for the overload of blueberries that I grew up with New England, when I do find myrtilles, I try to keep them as close to their pure state as possible. Topped with crumbly drop biscuits, all that’s needed is a scoop of vanilla ice cream to complete the picture, but white chocolate-fresh ginger ice cream would also be welcome…and appreciated, on this cobbler.

Mango Frozen Yogurt with Blueberry Compote

While everyone’s mind is on peaches and nectarines, don’t forget mangoes, their tropical counterpart, which go just as well with summer berries. Blueberries particularly come to mind but raspberries and strawberries could fill in for them.

Strawberry Frozen Yogurt

With pretty swirls of crispy meringue, this tangy frozen yogurt can be part of a composed dessert, which I like to serve in the summer, being generous with the fresh fruit…and filling in the blanks with frozen yogurt and meringues.

Blueberry Buckle with Lemon Syrup

I don’t know if blueberries get any better than in this buckle, which do indeed “buckle” under the weight of almost too many blueberries…if that’s even possible. A dousing with tart lemon syrup keeps things moist and tangy. You can skip the cream with this one. It’s great on its own.

May 5th marks the release of The Great Book of Chocolate which is now available for pre-order from your local independent book seller as well as Bookshop, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble online. And I’m going on book tour! Due to global events, travel has become more challenging, especially internationally.

• If you can’t make it to an event, and I’m not coming to where you live, and you’d like a personalized, signed copy of a book, you can order one from Kitchen Arts & Letters (before May 4th), Omnivore Books (before May 11th) or Now Serving LA (before May 14th), and they will send you a copy. Should you have questions, please contact the shops.

Note that a number of events are ticketed, which helps support the bookstores, and at places where books can be pre-purchased, that ensures that you’ll get a book. If you do have questions about events, please contact the venue directly as they are best equipped to answer your questions.

Hope you can make it!

May 4: Chat and booksigning with Matt Rodbard of Taste Live at Rizzoli Bookstore, New York City – tickets here

May 5: Booksigning at Williams-Sonoma, Columbus Circle, New York City – tickets here

May 6: Booksigning at Williams-Sonoma, Short Hills, New Jersey – tickets here

May 9: Markethall Foods, Oakland, CA – more info here (I’ll be signing books Noon to 1:30pm)

May 11: Omnivore Books, in conversation with Kate Leahy, San Francisco, CA – more info here.

May 12: Dandelion Chocolate, San Francisco, CA – tickets here

May 14: Now Serving LA, Los Angeles, CA, in conversation with Clémence de Lutz of Petitgrain boulangerie – tickets here

May 16: Friends & Family Bakery, with Roxana Jullapat, Los Angeles, CA – tickets here.

Note that this event is open to all, but books can be prepurchased from their website prior to event, and pastry boxes inspired by The Great Book of Chocolate and Ready for Dessert will also be available for pre-purchase. Prepurchasing a book ensures that you’ll get a book and also supports small, local businesses. Check the event page for details!

May 30: Booksigning at La Trésorerie Rive Gauche (48, rue de Grenelle, 7th, Paris), 3pm to 4:30pm. Copies of The Great Book of Chocolate and My Paris Kitchen will be available for sale and signing.

You can purchase or order the book at your local bookstore or online retailer from one of these links:

Amazon | Bookshop.org | Now Serving | Barnes & Noble | Omnivore | Book Larder | Kitchen Arts & Letters | Bold Fork | Books are Magic | Amazon France | Powell’s | RJ Julia | Strand | Smith & Son Paris | Amazon UK | Politics and Prose | Vivienne Culinary Books | Book Passage | Elliot Bay | Village Books | East End Books | Indigo Canada

Events will be published and updated here as they are announced. Please note that events on this page are subject to change and revision. It’s suggested that you contact the venue before an event to confirm the time and date, as well as if a ticket or purchase is required, if you can bring books purchased elsewhere to be signed, or if you have any other questions or need additional information.

This time of year brings Seville oranges to the markets in Paris. For the past few years, I kept wondering why they were so hard to find since it’s perhaps my favorite of all jams and jellies to make, and eat. But lately, they’ve been everywhere.  And I found myself busy making a lot of marmalade, which was easier since I came up with a brand-new, revolutionary technique which I couldn’t wait to share.

Since Seville oranges are rife with seeds, which makes slicing them difficult since you have to keep moving the seeds around with your slippery fingers, while trying to cut the oranges, then finding more, and fishing around deeper inside to extract more, plucking them out, etc… Each Seville orange has perhaps twenty to thirty inside.

So I thought, what if I was to squeeze the juice and seeds out first, strain them, then pour the juice back in? The seeds are precious commodities in jam-making, and get saved and used since they’re so high in pectin.

They’re wrapped in a sack and cooked with the marmalade giving the marmalade gets a suave, jellied texture. And this simple method, featured in my book Ready for Dessert, makes the whole process much easier.

You might be interested to know that Seville Orange Marmalade was created because of an error. Apparently, an Englishwoman in 1700, the wife of a grocer, was stuck with some sour oranges that were bought cheaply from a boat that was carrying them from Seville.

Since there was a storm, they wanted to get rid of their stock or oranges quickly, so the grocer bought them. But they were inedibly sour so his wife decided to try making jam from them, and viola!…Seville Orange Marmalade was invented.

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Seville Orange Marmalade

Adapted from Ready for Dessert (Ten Speed)

In my book, I advise letting the cooked oranges and the seeds rest overnight. That's an optional step. If you want to go ahead and finish the marmalade the same day you start it, you can.

Course Breakfast

Keyword confiture, jam, marmalade, orange

Ingredients

• 6 Seville oranges (see Note)
• 1 navel orange
• 10 cups (2.5L) water
• pinch of salt
• 8 cups (1.6 kg) sugar
• 1 tablespoon Scotch (optional)

Instructions

• Wash oranges and wipe them dry. Cut each Seville orange in half, crosswise around the equator. Set a non-reactive mesh strainer over a bowl and squeeze the orange halves to remove the seeds, assisting with your fingers to remove any stubborn ones tucked deep within.
• Tie the seeds up in cheesecloth or muslin very securely.
• Cut each rind into 3 pieces and use a sharp chef’s knife to cut the rinds into slices or cubes as thin as possible. Each piece shouldn’t be too large (no more than a centimeter, or 1/3-inch in length.) Cut the navel orange into similar-sized pieces.
• In a large (10-12 quart/liter) stockpot, add the orange slices, seed pouch, water, and salt, as well as the juice from the Seville oranges from step #1. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer, and cook until the peels are translucent, about 20 to 30 minutes. (At this point, sometimes I’ll remove it from the heat after cooking them and let the mixture stand overnight, to help the seeds release any additional pectin. But it's not imperative.)
• Stir the sugar into the mixture and bring the mixture to a full boil again, then reduce heat to a gentle boil. Stir occasionally while cooking to make sure it does not burn on the bottom. Midway during cooking, remove the seed pouch and discard.
• Continue cooking until it has reached the jelling point, about 218ºF degrees (103ºC), if using a candy thermometer. I cook this slightly less than other jams and marmalades because the high amount of pectin helps the marmalade set up more stiffly. To test the marmalade, turn off the heat and put a small amount on a plate that has been chilled in the freezer and briefly return it to the freezer. Check it in a few minutes; it should be slightly jelled and will wrinkle just a bit when you slide your finger through it. If not, continue to cook until it is.
• Remove from heat, then stir in the Scotch (if using), and ladle the mixture into clean jars. Sometimes I bury a piece of vanilla bean in each jar. (Which is a great way to recycle previously-used or dried-out vanilla beans.)

Notes

I don’t process my jams, since I store them in the refrigerator. But if you wish to preserve them by canning, you can read more about the process here.

Apparently I’m not the only one who loves polenta cake. The Italians like it so much that it’s called Amor Polenta. Which means “Polenta Love.”

Well, at least that’s what I thought it meant, because amour in French means “love.” And I assumed that it was the same in Italian. (Another reason for finally getting on that life-long ambition to live in Italy and learn Italian.) But for now, checking in an Italian dictionary, I found out that “amor” means “sake.” (As in, for the purpose of.) So I’m not sure how it got its name, but this cake makes a pretty good argument for the sake of whisking polenta into a cake.

I’m one of those people who is completely crazy for anything with cornmeal, from corn bread to even a kind of kooky polenta ice cream that I’m sure no one else has ever made, because I used a completely obscure polenta that very, very few people can get their hands on. But I felt compelled to make it, for the sake of using up a little bag of that polenta that I had.

Fortunately, polenta is available just about anywhere. I like to buy stone-ground polenta, which has a crunchier flavor. But you could use instant polenta for this cake, normally something I avoid. But I found myself with a bag of it and was looking for ways to use it up. And here’s where the rest of it landed.

Like many Italian cakes, which are unlike American cakes, this is not a buttery bomb of richness. True, there is butter and a few eggs in there. But the great flavor comes from ground almonds, which tend to make the cake much moister the following day as the nut oils soak the crumb, which is one of those baking terms (unlike amor) that pretty much seems to be what it is talking about. The polenta adds a bit of a savory quality to desserts, which draws me to use it a lot when baking.

This cake is a great snacking cake and I tend to walk around my apartment several times during the day, somehow landing frequently near the cake, where a serrated knife just happens to be stationed alongside. Ready and waiting to lop a slice off.

In addition to a collection of polentas, I found myself with a collection of eaux-de-vie on hand. Some were gifts, others were picked up on my travels. A few are anise-based, which pair nicely with polenta, and chocolate. I have a ginger one that is great when summer fruits are in season, like peaches, nectarines, and apricots. And the long bottle in the front right, the eau-de-vie of lees that I got in Switzerland, after I found out how good raisins in lie (eau-de-vie made from leftover grape yeast, and other stuff that falls to the bottom of wine vats post fermentation) was, after gorging on cauldrons of fondue.

As astute readers can see from the fill line of the bottle, that project never came to fruition. (I’m too busy trying organize my polentas and eaux-de-vie. And plotting a way to live in both Italy, and France.) But I did add a few shots of orange liqueur (not shown), which gave it a little boost of flavor. Not enough to be perceptible. But like that bag of instant polenta I’ve had for a few months, I was always conscious that it was there. You can use any kind of liqueur that you want – maraschino, limoncello, absinthe, kirsch, or even anise liqueur.

As much as I like this as a snacking cake, it can be dressed up with a fruit compote. I sectioned some tangerines, navel oranges, and pink grapefruits, drizzled a little honey over them, and served them alongside the cake. I had planned to spoon some warm sabayon over the cake and fruit, but decided that I had too many other things to do. Namely, get cracking on using some of those bottles of liqueur that I’ve been hoarding.

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Orange-Glazed Polenta Cake

For this cake, using fine-ground polenta or instant polenta will result in the smoothest texture, although whatever is available will work. I’ve made it with coarse polenta too, and enjoy the crunch. Almond flour is available at specialty stores, Trader Joe’s, and online. If you can’t find it, grind 7 1/2 ounces (215 grams) sliced blanched almonds in a food processor with the flour until the almonds are pulverized. Although cakes like this don’t always need adornment, I did glaze it with a dribbly orange glaze that firms up and gives the top a citrus-scented fruity crunch. For those wanting to skip the liqueur in the cake, you can leave it out and increase the almond extract to 1 1/4 teaspoon. For the glaze, you replace the liqueur with orange juice.

Ingredients

For the cake

• 8 ounces (225g) unsalted butter cubed, at room temperature
• scant 1 cup (180g) sugar
• zest of 1 lemon
• 3 large eggs at room temperature
• 2 tablespoons liqueur or eau-de-vie such as orange liqueur (Grand Marnier or Cointreau), kirsch or grappa
• 3/4 teaspoon pure almond extract
• 3/4 cup (125g) finely ground polenta plus additional for preparing the pan
• 2 cups (215g) almond flour
• 6 tablespoons (55g) all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder preferably aluminium-free
• 1/2 teaspoon salt

For the glaze

• 1 1/4 cups (170g) powdered sugar
• 1 tablespoon orange juice
• 4 teaspoons orange liqueur (such as Grand Marnier or Cointreau)

Instructions

• Butter a 9-inch (23cm) loaf pan. Dust the inside with polenta, and tap out any excess. (Note: The pan I used has a nonstick finish. If you want to make sure the cake comes out nicely you may want to cut a rectangle of parchment paper and fit it into the bottom of the pan after you prepare it, especially if using an unfinished loaf pan.) Preheat the oven to 350ºF (180ºC).
• In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter, sugar and lemon zest at medium-high speed, until it’s light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. (You can also make this in a large bowl, beating the butter and sugar by hand.)
• Add the eggs one at a time, stopping the mixer after each addition to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Mix in the liqueur and almond extract.
• In a medium bowl, whisk together the polenta, ground almonds, flour, baking powder, and salt, until there are no lumps. Gradually mix the dry ingredients into the creamed butter mixture, just until well-combined. Do not overmix.
• Scrape the batter into the pan, smooth the top, and bake the cake until it is golden brown on top and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out almost clean, perhaps with just a few crumbs attached, 45 to 50 minutes. Let cool on a rack for about 30 minutes, then run a knife along the outside of the cake to loosen it from the pan and tip the cake onto the rack. Let the cake cool completely before icing.
• To glaze the cake, mix the powdered sugar with the orange juice and orange liqueur until the glaze is thick, but still runny – not too watery, but as thick as a milkshake. If necessary, add a bit more sugar if it’s too thin, or add a bit more liquid if it’s too thick. You can try smoothing a bit over the cake to see if it’s the right consistency for drizzling and dripping down the sides before glazing the entire cake.
• Spoon the glaze over the cake, encouraging the glaze to run down the sides by nudging it towards the edges with the back of the spoon or a metal spatula.

Notes

Serving: When the glaze has firmed up, serve slices of the cake with a favorite fruit compote, such as fresh citrus segments, caramelized pineapple, poached pears, or sliced and sugared peach slices (peeled) or nectarines.

Storage: The cake will keep for up to five days, if well wrapped, at room temperature. The cake will be noticeably moister the day after baking due to the oil in the nuts. It can be frozen for up to two months.

Related Recipes and Posts

Baking Ingredients and Substitutions

Cornbread with Harissa Butter

Polenta Crisp Topping

Simple Polenta

Cornmeal Cookies

Cornmeal Biscotti

Not everyone thinks of citrus fruits as “winter fruits.” But that’s when oranges, grapefruits, tangerines, tangy lemons, and enticing limes are often at their peak. And that’s a good thing because there’s nothing that brightens up any season – but especially winter – better than a classic French lemon tart.

Any bakery in Paris will have a Tarte au citron on offer. Some are on the sweet side, others tart. I like my lemon tart, well…tart, for sure and when I search for lemons at my market, I choose the plumpest, juiciest ones I can find. Fortunately, good lemons are available just about anywhere, so anyone can make this tart. Most of us don’t even have to wait until winter!

I juiced my lemons, cracked some eggs, and got to work on the tart.

For the base, I used Paule’s pastry dough, which is so easy to make and hasn’t failed me yet. It’s delicious and buttery, and goes particularly well with the delicious lemon topping.

I cooked the filling, a sunny, luscious lemon curd, on the stovetop with the fragrant zest of the lemons, then poured the warm filling through a strainer to make it as smooth as possible.

 One could pipe whipped cream on it or top it with meringue. To do so, let it cool and spread or pipe whipped cream over the top or serve a dollop alongside. If you want to give a go at meringue, check out my Lime Meringue Tart recipe or the marshmallow topping that I use on my Pumpkin Pie with Marshmallow Topping.

Both are delicious, but just as it is – or as the French say, nature – is just fine with me.

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Lemon Tart

I recently updated this recipe to increase the amount of filling and I dialed down the sugar a bit due to frequent questions about reducing sugar in recipes. You can taste the filling in step 3 and if you'd like it sweeter, add up to 1/4 cup (50g) more sugar If you find that you have a bit too much filling for your tart shell (they seem to vary), any remaining lemon filling that you don’t use can be spread on toast, fresh biscuits, or scones. You could substitute fresh lime juice for the lemon, and if you have Meyer lemons, reduce the sugar to 1/2 cup (100g). You can use a favorite tart dough recipe, or the one I’ve linked to.

Ingredients

• 1 cup (250ml) freshly-squeezed lemon juice
• grated zest of two lemons preferably unsprayed
• 3/4 cup (150g) sugar
• 12 tablespoons (170g) butter salted or unsalted, cut into cubes
• 4 large eggs
• 4 large egg yolks
• One pre-baked 9-inch (23cm) tart shell

Instructions

• Preheat the oven to 350ºF (180ºC).
• In a medium-sized non-reactive saucepan, heat the lemon juice, zest, sugar, butter, eggs and egg yolks. Have a mesh strainer nearby.
• Stir until the butter is melted, then whisk the mixture continuously until the mixture thickens and holds its shape when you lift some of it up with the whisk and it visibly mounds up when dropped back down over the rest of the mixture in the saucepan. It should just take a few minute.
• Pour the warm lemon curd though a strainer into a bowl (or directly into the tart shell), scraping with a rubber spatula to press it through.
• Smooth the lemon filling in the prebaked tart shell and pop it in the oven until the curd is just set. It’ll take about 5 to 6 minutes.
• Remove from the oven and let cool before slicing and serving.

Related Links

Recipes to Use Up Leftover Egg Whites

Lemon Verbena Ice Cream

Moroccan Preserved Lemons

Tips for Freezing Eggs

What is non-reactive cookware?

There’s a lot going on when you write a cookbook. You begin with an idea, then spend a year or two testing and developing recipes. Once the first draft is done, it goes through a developmental edit where the editor gives feedback on what you’ve done so far and offers up changes, ideas, or things to reconsider.

After you’ve implemented those (or not), it then goes to a copy editor who checks grammar and spelling, as well as scans the recipes for omissions or gaffes, such as forgetting to say when to add an ingredient, and checks your metric conversions. I’ve seen more and more books lately that also credit an “Americanizer,” who presumably takes on that last task, since conversions are a big lift. I kid you not. I’m pretty sure I could write two cookbooks a year if we all used the same system of measurement.

The book then goes to a production editor, who makes sure everything is in the right place, then to a proofreader. (Not all publishers do all these steps. Mine does.) During the process, cookbook authors often send recipes to testers to give the recipes a go and get feedback. Some authors have people develop recipes but I give a tester the finished recipe and get feedback on that.

If the book is going to be photographed, food stylists generally make the recipes for the photos, although in some cases, the author does. (Which I’ve done.) But it’s a very big job organizing and planning the shoot, then gathering all the ingredients and making everything, which is especially challenging if you plan to shoot five different photos a day. Then there’s the cleanup afterward.

I was fortunate to have George Dolese and Elisabet der Nederlanden working as a team on my book since there were a lot of photos to shoot in 2 1/2 weeks. That’s a very long shoot, but my publisher wanted a lot of photos so we, along with photographer Ed Anderson, delivered.

George arrived with a 7-inch (18cm) thick notebook, and I was startled to see how organized he was. We’d corresponded a lot before he came to Paris, and he asked me what he should bring from the U.S. I said parchment paper circles, natural cocoa powder, Lazzaroni amaretti cookies (why can’t we get those here? Romain has been devouring the leftovers…), almond paste, and chocolate chips — among other things.

When George and Elisabet arrived, armed with massive shopping lists, I took them to a Grand Frais supermarket outside of Paris. For some reason there are no Grand Frais supermarkets in Paris, but they have a remarkable selection of everything, including aisles and aisles of every kind of fruit you can imagine, as well as a massive cheese aisle, a butcher, and shelves of nuts and baking ingredients.

I also took them to Metro, a membership-only store that requires you to have a resale license. Elisabet is a particularly avid baker and went a little nuts in the baking aisles. She was especially wowed by all the various sugars available in France, from dark, moist cassonade (cane sugar) to crunchy pearl sugar.

Food stylists are invariably pros at cooking and often give valuable feedback if they run into any issues with the recipes. To be honest, food stylists do a better job than most of us can to make food look good for the camera. No one working on cookbooks uses fake food or anything like that, although when shooting pictures for the first edition of Room for Dessert (I was the food stylist on it), which became Ready for Dessert, I couldn’t find Concord grapes for the pie since it wasn’t grape season. A food stylist friend suggested that since it was only for a photo, I should use black olives. I used regular grapes instead and zhuzhed them up with some grape jelly for color.

Once the book is laid out and designed, with everything in place, the publisher sends a PDF of the book to the author to check and make sure everything’s A-OK. Then it’s off to the printer, and when you get the final book in your hands, you notice that tablespoon in one recipe is spelled “tablespooon.” (Which happened to me in another book.)

As the great Maida Heatter called them, “gremlins” get into cookbooks, no matter how hard you try to keep them out. Also, as someone who likes to tinker with recipes, I sometimes find different ways to make them. Books also have limited space, so it’s nice we have the internet to fill things in, as I’m doing here.

Ready for Dessert Recipe Notes & Errata

Here are some additional notes about the recipes, including a few tips on baking times, a little errata the thickness of a cookie recipe, and an bonus recipe, that’s on the cover of the book.

– For the Easy jam tart (page 121), if the dough is a bit too sticky to press into the pan, put the pan with the pastry in it in the refrigerator or freezer for a few minutes to firm the pastry up.

– When making the Peanut butter and jelly linzertorte (page 103), if the ropes that you’re rolling by hand to place over the top break, it’s ok to place the pieces on top of the tart and simply pinch them together. They’ll bake up beautifully. While a lattice topping is traditional on linzertorte (which is really a tart), baker Jessie Sheehan suggested that the dough could be crumbled over the top of the tart, which I’m going to try the next time I make it.

– For the Panna cotta recipe (page 161) you can reduce the amount of sugar to 1/4 cup (50g), and you can omit the cinnamon and lemon zest if you want them with those flavorings in them.

– For the Croquants (page 251), yes, the batter is measured out in teaspoons, one per cookie, which is the measurement in the book. It makes cookies the size they are in France, the cookies in the photo on the left. (It doesn’t seem like a lot of batter when you are making the cookies, but the batter spreads as it bakes.) You are welcome to make them larger, like the cookies on the right. You may need to increase the baking time another minute or so, until they’re toasty brown across the top.

– For the Pâte à choux recipe (page 276), the yield will vary depending on the size you pipe the dough. You may get twenty puffs if you pipe them larger, which is fine!

I also like to play with the temperature of the oven, depending on how I feel that day. Life isn’t always cut-and-dry, and neither is pastry dough. And as I’ve said before, recipes aren’t set in stone. If they were, cookbooks would be very, very heavy.

While the baking temperature in the first printing of the book has you baking the puffs at 425ºF (220ºC), I’m wondering if that’s too high for people? I like my puffs very crispy so that’s fine with me. But if yours are getting too dark for your taste, you can take them out before the recommended baking time. Similarly, you don’t need to keep them in the turned-off oven for 5 minutes after baking.

Another way I prepare pâte à choux puffs is to bake them in a 425ºF (220ºC) oven for 5 minutes, then turn the oven down to 375ºF (190ºC) and bake them until they’re golden brown. You can see the difference here:

When baking, always use visual clues to check for doneness, rather than strictly adhering to a baking time. When I baked professionally, we used a timer to remind us that something was in the oven. We never relied on it to tell us when something was done.

– When rolling out the dough for the Orange poppyseed sandwich cookies (page 246), the dough should be rolled 1/4 inch (6mm) thick, rather than the 1/2 inch in the book. I find the baking time of 12 minutes is just right for me, but if you like the cookies a little darker, I did a test at 14 minutes, shown below:

In the book, I gave a chocolate and chocolate-hazelnut options for filling the cookies, if you’d prefer to do that instead of using jam. But you can also fill them with Salted butter caramel sauce (page 283) that’s cooled until it’s thick and spreadable. And in place of poppyseeds, you can use very coarsely ground black or white sesame seeds instead. Or leave them whole! You’ve got options.

-For the Palets Bretons (page 243), a magazine published the recipe with a baking time of “25-35 minutes.” After I developed the recipe, they were tested (again) here in my kitchen when the food stylists made them for the photo in the book. After the magazine published the recipe, one of the food stylists retested them in his kitchen in California and found the baking time in the book to be correct (see above.) But if your oven is different, just bake them until they’re golden brown across the top.

-The yield on the Seville Marmalade recipe (page 299) says it makes 8 cups but depending on various factors, you may get less. Also you don’t necessarily need to let the oranges rest overnight in the liquid. It does help the pectin work its magic, but it’s not obligatory.

– I’ve been playing with the Butternut squash pie (page 96), which is a great holiday treat. Some have said that it makes a bit too much filling for the dough. I recast the recipe so there’s no leftover filling, and you can get that here.

Sharp-eyed readers might notice the profiteroles on the cover of the book, from Grand Brasserie in Paris, have a layer of craquelin over the top. So I thought I’d share a recipe for chocolate craquelin.

This recipe is based on my craquelin recipe, which I retoggled to make them chocolate. You can get the chocolate craquelin recipe here.

Enjoy!