Kate Neumann's Peach & Ginger Hand Pies with Vanilla Ice Cream

I recently invited a professional into my kitchen to teach me a few things and WOW, did it pay off big. Kate Neumann came by last week to teach me how to make these glorious hand pies and deliciously eggy vanilla ice cream.

Kate's the former pastry chef at mk the restaurant here in Chicago. I was their publicist for a spell and it was my job to get her gorgeous face and beautiful recipes on TV, and in newspapers and magazines across the country. One of the highlights of my career was our rendezvous in New York City, where we made the rounds to introduce Kate to editors from Food & Wine, Bon Appetit, Lucky, Domino and Town & Country. One of the many ways it paid off was having her recipes featured in a lush eight page spread in the November 2007 issue of Food & Wine!

I'd always felt a kinship with Kate's baking style. Although she's fully fluent in the panoply of pastry, she tends to stick with the classics; always using beautiful, seasonal ingredients and often adding some modern, interesting twist. Check out this list of some of her mouth-watering creations:

one banana, two banana
warm banana brioche bread pudding, banana sherbet, roasted bananas, whipped cream, butterscotch

what’s up, peanut buttercup?
peanut butter mousse, crispy milk chocolate, peanut caramel tart, peanut brittle

rhubarbarella
nichols' farm rhubarb crisp, strawberry cream cheese ice cream, oatmeal raisin cookie, maple caramel

peppermint patty
bittersweet chocolate cake, peppermint stick ice cream, crushed peppermints, hot fudge

sticky toffee
warm medjool date cake, roasted lady apple, honey toffee sauce, crème fraiche chantilly

Kate made a batch of these hand pies for my birthday a few years back and I've never forgotten them. Since then, I figured if I wanted to experience them again, I'd have to ask her to make them again. Can you believe it never occurred to me that I could make them myself? They were professional hand pies, after all. It finally dawned on me all I had to do was ask her to come over and show me how to make them. See, I learn by doing. And so can you. If you have any questions, email me and I'll walk you through it.

Kate Neumann's Peach & Ginger Hand Pies
makes about 16

Pastry Dough:

3 2/3 cups all purpose flour
2 tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. salt
10.5 ounces (about 2.5 sticks) unsalted butter, very cold and cubed
1 egg, cold & gently beaten
1/4 cup ice water

Filling:

3 to 4 peaches chopped into small pieces (I actually threw in a few blueberries to some of mine as well, as you can see from the photo)
1 tsp. grated ginger
1/4 cup light brown sugar
1 1/2 tsp. all purpose flour
2 tbsp. creme fraiche, sour cream or Greek yogurt

For assembly:
1 egg
demerara or cane sugar

Mix flour, sugar, salt and butter in a bowl. You can use a standing mixer with paddle attachment, a Cuisinart with a dough blade or if you're like me, use your hands.

Combine until butter has broken down into pea-sized pieces.

Add the egg and blend with a wooden spoon. Then, pour ice water in tablespoon increments until dough looks "shaggy" and feels slightly wet.

Knead the dough together by hand and form into a round disc, cover with plastic wrap and let chill in fridge for 30 minutes.

On a well-floured counter or pastry board, roll dough out to 3/16 inch thickness and cut out four inch rounds. We used the outline of the rim of a bowl and traced it out with a knife. Place each cut out round on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and a light dusting of flour. The scraps can be combined and rolled out again. Cover the rounds and chill while you make the filling.

In a bowl, combine peaches, ginger, brown sugar, flour, creme fraiche. Using a spatula, gently fold ingredients together to roughly combine.

Take out dough rounds and place a heaping tablespoon of filling in the center of each disc.

Whisk the egg. Brush a half circle of egg around the edge of exposed pastry to act as "glue." Fold the circle in half and press down the edges with a fork to seal. Chill for at least one hour.

Before baking, brush surface of the crust with egg, cut three slits as vents and sprinkle with sugar.

Bake in pre-heated oven at 375 for about 45 minutes until golden brown.

Enjoy warm or at room temp with or without ice cream. Once fully cooled, store at room temperature in sealed glass or plastic container between layers of parchment paper.


Vanilla Ice Cream

For this you'll need an ice cream maker and a full day ahead prep time.

For the ice cream:

12 egg yolks
1 cup sugar
pinch kosher salt
1/2 vanilla bean, sliced lengthwise and scraped of seeds
2 cups organic whole milk
2 cups organic heavy whipping cream

Make the custard:

Put together an ice bath (water and lots of ice cubes) in a large bowl that the bowl of warm custard can comfortably nestle in to chill. (see photo above)

Whisk together egg yolks, sugar and salt and vanilla (throw seeds and pod in there) in said bowl.

In a heavy saucepan, bring milk and cream to a strong simmer. Turn off the heat.

Put a small amount of the egg mixture into the saucepan (this is called tempering) and whisk like mad to prevent curdling. Then add the rest of the egg mixture in the saucepan.

Turn heat back on to a medium flame and stir constantly until the mixture thickens to coat the back of a rubber spatula or spoon. This could take 5 to 10 minutes.

Immediately pour mixture back into the bowl and nestle in the ice bath and allow to cool. Remove vanilla bean pod and discard.

Cover custard in the bowl with two layers of plastic wrap. One literally touching the top of the custard and one to cover the top of the bowl. You want to expose it to as little air as possible while it chills. Chill in fridge preferably overnight.

Freeze in ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions.

Campari: Gateway Drug To The Good Life

I had my first Campari on a date at a racetrack in Florence, Italy. We stood along the rails watching the races with a group of distinguished (i.e. drunk) older gentlemen. We bonded tutti insieme over drinks and screamed at our dollar bets to cross the finish line. It was a very romantic first date for a young woman in a new country and my love of Campari is certainly cemented in part, by that nostalgia.

Campari's definitely an acquired taste. On its own it can be a little rough around the edges; at once bitter, viscous and medicinal. But mixed with fresh squeezed orange or grapefruit juice over ice, it transforms into a perfectly civilized and refreshing summer cocktail.

I made these for a recent summer dinner party and they were an instant hit. My friends who'd never had them before, loved them. Campari's also very high in alcohol; it's strength might sneak up on you. Depending on where it's sold it can be as high as 28%! I believe it's 18% here in the States. If you're looking for a new summer tipple, Campari might be just the thing.

Here's a few quick and easy recipes for Campari:

Campari & OJ: Place ice cubes in a highball or old-fashioned glass. Add 1/3 Campari to 2/3 fresh squeezed OJ.

Campari & Grapefruit: Same as above but with 1/4 Campari to 3/4 freshly squeezed pink grapefruit juice.

Campari & Soda: Place ice cubes in a highball glass. Add 2/3 Campari and 1/3 club soda.

Negroni: pour equal parts gin, sweet red vermouth and Campari into a cocktail shaker with ice, shake and strain into a martini glass. Garnish with orange peel.

Reverse Negroni: Another great summer cocktail, this obscure drink was introduced to me at one of my all time favorite, (now defunct) Chicago restaurants, Sole Mio. RIP.

Pour equal parts vodka, dry vermouth and Campari in a cocktail shaker with ice. Shake and strain into a martini glass. Garnish with lemon rind.

Homemade Tzatziki

The journal from my trip to the Greek Islands many years ago reads a little like Cheech and Chong's, How I Spent My Summer Vacation. Day after day, it went a little something like this:

"Woke up. Went to the cafe for breakfast. Ate Greek yogurt, fruit and honey. Drank coffee, very black. Went to the beach. Swam in the sea. Went to the cafe for lunch. Ate Greek salad, tzatziki and grilled fish. Played Ouzo-soaked backgammon on the pier until near blind. Went to the cafe for dinner. Ate Greek salad, tzatziki and grilled lamb. Drank a bottle of Retsina. Shook it hard at the disco. Passed out at 3 am."

I never wanted for lack of anything in Greece. The daily repetition of meals suited me just fine. The food was as local, fresh and simple as one could ask for.

It's remarkable how those meals influenced the way I cook today. In fact, one of the classic comfort staples in my home is tzatziki. You know, it's not just for Gyros anymore. I'll put it aside almost any protein - fish, chicken, lamb or beef. I'll do a composed salad of sliced and chopped vegetables such as cucumbers, radishes, celery, beets, green beans, favas, fennel and radicchio - dress it in red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper, add little mounds of feta and olives on the side and finish it with an over-sized dollop of tzatziki. I've also been known to dunk pretzels or really good kettle chips in it, crack a bottle of beer and call it a meal. Sometimes it just hits the spot.

This recipe was given to me by my friend and chef, Mark Graham in Seattle, Washington. It has since been adapted for my very garlicky, lemony and full fat preferences. Feel free to cut back on any of those to suit your tastes.

Tzatziki

One large tub whole milk yogurt - I use Greek yogurt like the Fage brand which is extra thick and requires no straining. If you use a traditional 32oz. yogurt, such as Stonyfield Farm you need to strain it for at least a few hours through cheesecloth or through a fine mesh sieve with a bowl underneath in the fridge.

3 to 4 pickling cucumbers halved, seeded and thinly sliced. You can use a mandoline, a vegetable peeler, a Cuisinart with the slicing blade or hell, just use a knife if you can get super thin half moons, that's fine. You can use the larger, more watery cukes but you have to squeeze the water out of them after you've sliced them: wrap them in a cotton dishtowel and squeeze like mad over the sink. If you omit this step they will give off a lot of water and make your tzatziki thin and tasteless.

salt and pepper to taste
juice and zest of one medium sized lemon
3 to 4 cloves garlic, pressed
heaping piles of finely chopped fresh basil and mint to taste

Mix all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and let sit in fridge to chill until flavors meld.

The Promise of Pizza

For way too long I denied my love of good pizza. It all had to do with some screwed up notions about which foods I considered to be healthy or unhealthy. Thank goodness I'm finally unshackled because I really love pizza. I truly believe when we deny the things we love the most that's when we create an unhealthy situation. It sets up a guaranteed, never-ending, self-punishing trigger. My advice? Be honest with yourself about your most fervent pleasures; own and revel in them. Give yourself permission to enjoy them from time to time and earn your own trust around them. That way, they cease to be your adversaries. Even better if you can replace the processed versions with real ones along the way.

I love a good, blistery, slightly chewy, thin crust pizza and lately, I've had this burning desire to learn how to make it from scratch. It's seriously daunting for me - I've never worked with yeast. Not to mention, there are so many pizza dough recipes out there making all kinds of promises, it's hard to know where to begin. So, for my first foray, I went with someone who has never let me down...Martha. The one, the only.

At the library, I picked up The Martha Stewart Living Cookbook: The New Classics and in it, there was a recipe for pizza dough. I followed it to the letter. After the second rise, I punched down the dough, turned it out onto my pastry board and cut in into six, equal-sized discs. I wrapped each one individually in plastic wrap and placed them in my fridge. I left for a few hours, came home and checked on the dough only to find that the Michelin Man had taken up residence in there! The dough had expanded yet again, so I peeled away the plastic, punched it back down, rolled it out, cut and wrapped it once more.

The thing I've neglected to share is that it was also my good friend's birthday that evening and she had come to rely on eating very well in my home, so there was a lot riding on this. I could feel the pressure mounting.

I had planned to grill the pizzas. Our first pizza, a classic Margherita - fresh tomatoes, basil and mozzarella - died a slow death on the grill because of my own incompetence - I forgot to properly oil the dough and added the toppings before their time. However, there were pieces of the dough that tasted like the charred, chewy and smoky hardwood flavor I was going for which, gave me hope. I decided not to take a chance and blow the next pizza so I popped it in the oven. This one was an homage to a pizza I'd had at my favorite Chicago restaurant, Avec. Thinly shaved beets, arugula, marjoram, Manchego cheese and Nicoise olives. The toppings were stellar but the crust, honestly, had little flavor. But with enough wine, laughter and open air we managed to still enjoy it.

I declare that I am making a commitment right here and now to master pizza-making. There will be ongoing posts until I get it right. Until it meets my very high standards. Until I become fluent in the language and the feel of it. Until I can imagine that Martha's coming for lunch, and know without a doubt, she's going to be absolutely blown away.

Patricia Wells' Apricot Honey Tart

Those who know me would agree that I am a fan of the bold gesture. I would put this tart in that category. Like a good piece of statement jewelry. Like renting a villa in Italy and sending your closest friends first class tickets to join you. (Hasn't happened yet, but believe me, it's going to.)

First and foremost, this tart is a stunner. When you trot it out at the end of a meal or at brunch, people will inevitably ask if you really made it. It happened to me again last night. Not only does this tart look, smell and taste like summer, it's also good for the ol' self esteem. Quadroople bonus.

And believe it or not, it's truly easy - even if you've never made a crust before! You can substitute apricots with figs or plums - or any stone fruit. The only extra you'll need is a 12" round fluted tart pan.

This recipe is from the book, Patricia Wells at Home in Provence.

Ingredients:

The Crust
unsalted butter to grease tart pan
8 tbsp. unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1/2 cup sugar
1/8 tsp. pure almond extract
1/8 tsp. pure vanilla extract
a pinch fine sea salt
1 1/4 cups plus 1 tbsp. unbleached all purpose flour
2 tbsp. finely ground raw almonds (I use my coffee grinder)

The Cream
1/2 cup heavy cream (buy organic!)
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. pure almond extract
1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
2 tbsp. raw honey
1 tbsp. superfine flour such as Wondra

about 1 1/2 pounds fresh apricots (hit your local farmers' market!), pitted and halved, do not peel (I slice mine into moons but for a heavier fruit-to-bite ratio, just halve them)


Instructions:

1. Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Butter bottom and sides of tart pan.
3. In large bowl, combine butter and sugar and, with a wooden spoon, stir to blend. Add the almond and vanilla extracts, salt, flour, and stir to form a soft, cookie-like dough. Do not let it form into a ball. (I find mine to be very crumbly and unable to hold into a ball even if it wanted to - it's still OK) Transfer dough into the center of buttered tart pan and using the tips of your fingers, evenly press the pastry onto the bottom and sides of the pan. The dough will be quite thin.
4. Place the pan in the center of the oven and bake until the dough is slightly puffy and set about 12 to 15 minutes. Sprinkle the almonds on the crust. This will prevent it from becoming soggy.
5. Meanwhile, prepare the cream. In a medium-size bowl, combine cream, egg, both extracts and honey and whisk to blend. Then whisk in superfine flour.
6. Starting just inside the edge of the pre-baked pastry pan, neatly overlap the halved or half-moon slices of apricots, cut side up at a slight angle. Make 2 or 3 concentric circles working towards the center. (I ran out of apricots and added a sprinkling of blueberries to fill in the gaps as you can clearly see.)
7. Pour the cream evenly over the fruit. Place in center of oven and bake until the filling is firm and the pasty is deep golden brown, 50 to 60 minutes. The apricots will shrivel slightly. Allow to cool before slicing.
8. TASTES GREAT CHILLED THE NEXT DAY!

Summer Fruit Sunday

Every Sunday morning I feel like treating myself. And for no other reason than, Hey, it's Sunday!, which is enough for me. Some people go to church and others, like myself, find their sacred impenetrable spot on a plate or in a bowl.

Traditionally my treat includes coffee, which I don't normally drink (cry for me - I'll explain later) and some form of delicious local pastry or eggs and bacon, or my fave of all time, the Bacon Waffle at Walker Brothers. The Bacon Waffle also deserves it own blog post but I'll save it for another time. "So it shall be written, so it shall be done..."

But I am currently obsessed with summer fruit and consuming as much of it as humanly possible. Our window of time to enjoy it is so damn short. I'm also spending part of today making a fruit tart for a friend's birthday party tonight and I'll be sharing that with you later.

This lovely, impromptu creation is simply cut up local plums from the farmers' market and papaya, which I love; I bought a biggun on sale this week and I'm enjoying finding different ways to use it. I also recently discovered sheep's milk yogurt. This is from Whole Foods by the Old Chatham Sheepherding Company in New York's Hudson Valley. I love the texture of it and the tang! Then I chopped up toasted almonds and drizzled away with raw, local honey from Bron's Bees, sold at the Heritage Prairie farm stand at Green City Market.

And to make sure I'm not sounding overly pious, I want you to know I followed this up with a hearty portion of bacon and eggs.

Kitten Capers?

I apologize for veering a little off course in this short post but the other day I Googled the word 'Caper' and one of the options that came up had this headline:"Kitten Capers." How could I not click on that? Turns out it's just this incredibly cloying collectible plate from the Franklin Mint. Not exactly the kind of capers I was looking for.

I am sorry but that just gives me the giggles.