Flourless Chocolate Cake

This is quite possibly my favorite dessert. That’s not to say that there aren’t other desserts out there equally as yummy. But this one is sumptuous, yet simple with only a few ingredients to its name. Fine quality chocolate and egg whites are the stars of this recipe. While it’s gluten-free because of its lack of wheat-based flour, that aspect is almost irrelevant because its texture is so dense and chocolatey. 

There are a number of theories as to the cake’s origin. Most of them revolve around a mistake in leaving out the flour. Some say it originated in Italy, others France. Still others refer to its “Chocolate Decadence” days from a California restaurant in the 1980s. A New York Times article in 2011 focused more on the flavor than the history and broke it down this way: “It is a wonderful showcase for good chocolate…[and it compares] to cheesecake, where the chocolate takes place of the cheese.” 

One of the best recipes I have found for this cake appeared in Bon Appetit in 1999. I have made it a number of times since then. Now, this recipe not only calls for a ganache glaze—which for supreme chocolate lovers is just about enough chocolate in each mouthful—as well as gold leafing (can anyone say overkill?). While the ganache makes this cake truly decadent, I find it’s an easy addition to skip. Very often, this cake is topped with just a dusting of powdered sugar, which frankly I prefer. The simpler, the better. Feel free to add a little fruit—a few raspberries, a decorative strawberry, or even roasted, caramelized blood orange slices and call it a day. 

Here’s the recipe for both cake and ganache:

For cake:

12 oz. bittersweet chocolate chips

1 1/2 sticks of butter (3/4 c.) unsalted butter, cut into pieces

6 large eggs, separated

12 TB sugar

2 tsp. vanilla

For glaze:

1/2 c. whipping cream

1/2 c. dark corn syrup

9 oz. bittersweet or semi-sweet chocolate chips

Chocolate shavings or gold leaf (seriously optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter 9-inch springform pan. Line bottom of pan with parchment paper and butter paper. Wrap outside of pan with foil.

Stir butter and chocolate chips in saucepan over low heat until melted and smooth. Remove from heat and cool.

Using electric mixer, beat egg yolks and 6 TB of sugar in a large bowl until mixture is very thick and a pale yellow, about 3 minutes. Fold lukewarm chocolate into yolks and then fold in vanilla. Clean beaters and whip egg whites in a separate bowl forming soft peaks. Gradually add the remaining 6 TB of sugar to the whites, further beating until stiff peaks form. Fold whites into chocolate and yolk mixture, then pouring batter into the prepared pan.

Bake cake until top is puffed and cracked and a cake tester comes out clean, approximately 50 min. Cool cake on rack. Gently press down crusty top once it falls to make an evenly thick cake. Loosen from pan and remove sides. Invert and peel off parchment.

In a saucepan, bring cream and corn syrup to a simmer. Add chocolate and whisk until smooth. Place cake on a rack over a baking sheet. Spread the glaze smoothly over the top and side and then freeze for 3 min to set. Pour remaining glaze over cake smoothing it out and chill for 1 hour in refrigerator until firm, 1 hour. Garnish optional. Serve at room temperature.

Chicken Marbella

Courtesy of The New York Times

Chicken with dried fruits in wine. That’s basically the recipe that got its fame from The Silver Palate Cookbook first published in 1982. But then cut to 2005 when renowned chef Ferran Adrià, who put the now defunct elBulli on the gastronomical map, gave his version of this chicken dish with dried apricots and sour cherries. In 2018, Israeli-British chef Yotam Ottolenghi produced his latest cookbook, Simple, with his version of the Silver Palate recipe. 

Ottolenghi uses dates instead of the prunes the Palate calls for. Adrià uses port with a cinnamon stick rather than the dry white wine of the Palate recipe. Ottolenghi and Palate call for green olives and capers. Adrià replaces those with citrus zest. Regardless of ancillary ingredients, this is a basic recipe of chicken with dried fruit with a savory foil to balance the sweetness. It is meant to be marinated ahead of time and then cooked in its own juices to further infuse those flavors into the meat. You could switch out the chicken for lamb or pork in this recipe. But I think the chicken is the best canvas for this kind of flavor profile.

While many attribute the recipe to the cuisine of southern Spain and the town of Marbella, it actually has its origins in the Silver Palate. The cookbook’s main recipe creator is co-author Sheila Lukins. She has claimed that the Mediterranean was an inspiration for the dish, but a dish she can call her own. And it was so good, two top chefs put their creative energy into it.

Here’s the recipe I used:

8 chicken thighs

Juice of 1 lemon

Juice of 1 lime

Juice of 1 orange

3 garlic cloves, minced

1/4 c. dried oregano (or 1/2 c. of fresh oregano)

3 TB pomegranate vinegar

1/2 c. olive oil

3 TB capers

3 TB pine nuts

1/4 c. Medjool dates, quartered

1/4 c. dried cherries

2 bay leaves

1/2 c. dry white wine

2TB parsley, chopped

Salt and pepper to taste

In a separate bowl, combine the chicken with 1/4 c. of olive oil along with the lemon and lime juices, bay leaves, and 1/8 c. of the dried oregano. Also add a 1/2 tsp. of salt. Let sit for as little as 2 hours and as much as 24—the longer you marinate the better. 

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Whisk together the vinegar, white wine, orange juice, garlic, and the remainder of the olive oil and dried oregano. In a baking dish, place the marinated chicken and dried fruit. Pour the liquids over the chicken. Bake for 30-35 minutes.

Serve immediately on a platter garnished with parsley.

Seafood Chowder

When the weather starts to turn gray and dismal, there’s nothing more satisfying than a hearty bowl of soup. It’s like a little ray of sunshine in your bowl. As a lifetime New Englander, seafood chowder is something I can’t get enough of. Don’t be surprised if you catch me eating even in the summer.

The best part of seafood chowder is it’s really just New England clam chowder. But, you can add whatever fish you’d like. Lobster. Shrimp. Langoustine. Crab. Scallops. Clams. Muscles. Cod. Halibut. Frankly, anything that swims. 

Chowders typically start with a roux of butter and flour. But, there are plenty of chowder-type soups and stews that are more broth-based and just as hearty. Think bouillabaisse—it’s a seafood blend with fennel in a tomato broth. Try another tomato dish with Manhattan clam chowder. And, the Rhode Island version also has no roux, just clam juice as its base.

For this recipe, I used not only a mirepoix of onions, carrots, and celery but a flavor point that started with bacon. Cooking the chopped bacon off and using the rendered fat, I could soften the diced veg nicely. Adding thyme and parsley, I snuck in a little knob of butter. Sifting the flour over the top, I stirred it to thicken. Adding chicken stock and a little wine, the base was now ready for an infusion of milk and cream. Corn kernels made the dish come alive as I’m sure peas would have been a good addition (if my kids didn’t hate peas). You could even leave this dish alone with just the corn and call it chowder. The sky’s the limit!

Here’s the recipe:

1/2 c. bacon, chopped

1 large onion, diced

2 large carrots, diced

3-4 ribs of celery diced

1 c. corn kernels

1 c. lobster

2 c. langoustine

1/2 c. flour

1/2 c. white wine

2 c. chicken stock

2 c. milk

1 c. cream

3 TB fresh thyme

3 TB fresh parsley, chopped

Salt and pepper to taste

In a large stock pot or Dutch oven, heat the bacon over medium heat until browned and the fat has been rendered. Remove the bacon using the fat for the onions. Once the onions have become translucent, add the carrots and the celery. Cook until soft. Add the flour to thicken. Stir in wine and chicken stock until all the flour has been incorporated. Add the milk and the cream. Once the chowder has started to come back up to temperature, add the remaining ingredients and cook for another 15 minutes.

Serve with a side salad and crusty baguette for a hearty lunch!

Mushroom Galette

Sure, a picture of the WHOLE thing would have been nice...

When you hear that little French word, “galette,” you might think more of dessert than you would a main meal. But, this rustic tart form is pretty versatile. It can be as sweet or as savory as you’d like to make it.

While generally the dough is rolled out like a flat pancake, it folds over the top of whatever filling you desire. My favorite dessert has always been an apple galette. Far quicker and easier than an actual pie, it still has that apple pie taste and surely a good pairing for a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

While a galette is lovely served at the end of a meal, it can be the meal as well. In this dish, I used a combination of caramelized onions and shitake mushrooms. Once the mixture is cooled from the sauté pan, spoon onto the rolled out dough and fold the sides over the top adding a little egg wash for a nice golden brown.

 Here’s the recipe:

For the dough:

2 1/4 c. flour

1 c. butter, diced

1 egg, plus 1 egg and water for egg wash

1 TB white wine vinegar

Ice water

For the filling:

1 c. shitake mushrooms

1 c. thinly sliced onions

1 TB butter

1 TB olive oil

1/4 c. fresh thyme

1/4 c. parsley, chopped

Salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Place the dough ingredients in a food processor and pulse until fully combined. Place on a floured surface and knead for about 5 minutes. Wrap ball in cling wrap and refrigerate for at least one hour.

In the meantime, heat skillet on medium high and then add butter and oil. Once melted, add the onions, thyme, parsley, salt, and pepper. When the onions have become soft and translucent, add the mushrooms, cooking down until the liquid has reduced. Set aside and cool.

Roll out dough onto a floured surface. Make sure the dough is evenly distributed and wide enough to fold over (approximately 10-12” diameter). Place the filling in the middle 2/3 of the dough. Fold the tops over leaving the filling in the middle uncovered. Brush egg wash on the dough before popping it into the oven.

Bake for 25-30 minutes. Serve immediately. 

Bourbon Balls

My first foray into any kind of holiday “ball” recipe did not go as planned. Wanting to give friends and family a yummy treat, I came across a recipe that sounded wonderful. It had rum in it. What’s not to like?

The problem was, as I soon found out, that the recipe was extremely dry. In order to make any ball, you’ve got to have enough moisture to form the dough. It doesn’t matter whether you’re talking rum, bourbon, whiskey, or cognac. Pick your poison, but the end result is still the same. Not enough liquid, no ball. So, I kept adding rum. And more rum. And more rum. Those balls were enough to knock you on your ass just by smelling them.

This year, I tried the Mast Brothers’ Bourbon Balls recipe. Simple ingredients: vanilla wafers, pecans, cocoa powder, bourbon, and confectioner’s sugar for dusting. I wanted to make sure that I had enough liquid, so I zested and juiced two clementines to give it a little more sweetness and a citrus kick.

With the unsweetened cocoa, the raw flavor was dark and a little bitter. The dusting of sugar on the outside is a must to offset that nicely. These are perfect end for a dinner party or to have on hand for cocktail party munchies. The best part is they can be made ahead, so no stress when you’re working on other parts of your meal before the guests arrive.

Here’s the recipe:

4 c. vanilla wafer cookies (one box)

1 c. pecans

1 c. Confectioners’ sugar

1 TB. cocoa powder

1/2 c. bourbon

Juice and zest of 2 clemetines

Mix cookies, pecans, 3/4 c. sugar and cocoa powder in a food processor. Add bourbon and clementine juice and combine. Roll mixture into small balls. Roll in sugar to coat.

In Defense of Brine

In a pre-Thanksgiving article in the New York Times, wet brining was declared passé in favor of dry brining. But was either one really in? Isn’t it just a matter of choice based on what you think tastes best? 

Every Thanksgiving, I get a turkey from a farm in my area about 20 minutes away the day before so the bird can spend a full 24-hours in a wet solution. With enough water and ice to cover in a cooler, I add a bottle of white wine, chicken stock, a handful of bay leaves, 1/4 cup of black peppercorns,  4 large garlic cloves, an herb bundle of rosemary, thyme, and sage, a 1 cup of kosher salt and a 1/2 cup of sugar. After the brine, I rinse out the bird patting it dry. I salt it inside and out drizzling it with a heavy hand of olive oil. I stuff a halved lemon and more fresh herbs inside. With the grill on high, the bird is breast side down for a half hour in a racked roasting pan. Turning the heat down to medium and flipping over the bird breast side up, cook for another few hours depending on weight. (Our 20-pound bird usually takes about four hours.)

What we get is a tasty, moist mouthful of meat, not sawdust. Would I get that kind of juicy morsel if I dry brined with salt, butter or oil, herbs, spices? Probably.

It’s not about what you do to the bird, it’s that you do it at all. Plain meat of any kind—beef, poultry, pork—when unseasoned just doesn’t taste good. Sure, you can cook it well. But it still won’t taste right without all of that salt, fat, and acid to enhance the flavor.

Wet or dry, you are essentially marinating your meat. It’s just your choice how you’d like to do that. If the goal is a juicy turkey, this is a great way to get it.

Here’s my recipe for wet brine:

75 qt. Rubbermaid cooler, lined with a large contractor bag

1 20 lb. turkey, fresh and preferably organic

4 1 lb. bags of ice

Enough water to cover turkey

1 bottle of dry white wine

4 c. chicken stock

1 c. kosher salt

1/2 c. turbinado sugar

1/4 c. bay leaves

1/4 c. black peppercorns

6 large garlic cloves, smashed with peel removed

1 lemon, halved

Fresh sprigs of rosemary, thyme, and sage

Place turkey in cooler lined with contractor bag. Fill it with enough water that it just covers the turkey breast. Put in two bags of ice, reserving the other two to sit on top of the cooler to not only secure the lid but to keep it cool during the brine. Pour in wine, stock, salt, sugar, bay leaves, peppercorns, garlic, and herbs. Let sit for 24 hours. Then, remove the turkey from the brine and dispose of the liquid. Pat turkey dry and salt the inside. Drizzle outside with olive oil and coat with salt and pepper. Place in roasting rack breast side down for first 30 minutes on high, lower heat to medium turning bird over, and cook for another 3- 3 1/2 hours until meat thermometer reads 160 degrees.

Bon appétit! 

Maine’s Portland is Worth the Visit

Maine’s Portland is Worth the Visit

After nearly 18 years, my friend Melissa and I finally went on a girls' weekend trip away. Both of us avid foodies, a visit to the trendy hot spot of Portland, Maine was in order. Portland is home to some very cute shops. But that, of course, was not why we were here. We were on a mission to try as many yummy things as possible. This quaint fishing village turned restaurant mecca has just about any dish you may desire.

Our first stop was Eventide Oyster Co. on Middle Street. Wood floors, huge windows letting in oodles of natural light, and a raw fish bar with an ice layer the size of a small city. There were a gazillion different kinds of oysters both near and slightly far away, including close to home in North Haven, Conn. Slivers of radish and a ginger scallion drizzle made the tuna crudo a nice accompaniment to the oysters. An Austrian sparkling rose added a lovely touch.

On our way to Duckfat further down Middle, we stopped off for an aperitif at East Ender—one Italian and the other French. Cocchi was a the Italian quinine-based liqueur and Bonal was the French wildflower-infused wine. Both were a little sweet and a little bitter doing a nice job of getting our appetites going. 

Appetite is exactly what is required for Duckfat. Everything is made with duck fat, hence the name. Not so much a cute moniker as it is pure honesty. We had French fries with gravy and cheese curds, or what Canadians affectionately call poutine. It’s an odd combination, but some weird reason it works. The potato cries out for the luscious brown gravy while the cheese makes it gooey. Next, a beautiful bowl of roasted Brussels sprouts, lardon, and pickled apple. Sprouts and bacon is always a good pairing. The apple added a little tart and a little sweet to the dish. See, the veg that balances out the fries. The calories don’t even count. 

After a mind-bendingly fattening snack, it was time for another drink. Vena’s Fizz House on Fore Street did not disappoint. Both Melissa and I opted for tequila- and mezcal-based drinks. But for those that appreciate vodka, gin, or rum, there’s plenty to choose from. Melissa had the Spaghetti Western with Mezcal, Campari, lime, grapefruit liqueur, ginger, and Bitter Tyrone. I had the Sweet Heat with tequila, jalapeno, lime juice, and bitters. Vena’s bar area is behind a little shop front with all the fixings for making your own great cocktail. Shakers, glasses, stirrers, jiggers, and every liquid bitter you could possibly find. 

Stopping for a flight at Sebago Brewing Co. a little past Vena’s, we each had four little beers. They’ve got a range of different styles of IPAs, stouts, session ales, and even a barley wine. The beers were fine. A nice frosty one on a hot day would certainly hit the spot. But, I would say they were unexceptional. With thousands of craft beers in the U.S., I’ve had better.

With that many drinks in our bellies, it was time for another snack. On Congress Street, we ducked into Emilitsa. A sweet, little Greek restaurant with as much souvlaki, spanakopita, and moussaka to quell your craving for the Mediterranean. We chose a quick dish of three dips and pita all washed down with a Macedonian wine. The wine was ruby red and velvety smooth. The dips were thicker than I would have imagined. The tzatziki was whipped with cucumber, dill, and yogurt with a touch of garlic and lemon. The htipiti was a mixture red pepper and feta with a swirl of olive oil. In the melitzanosalata—eggplant, tomatoes, and herbs brought together with olive oil—was a nice foil to the other two. It was honestly the perfect end to a lovely evening.

The next day, we started bright and relatively late with a quick coffee at Bard and brunch at Petite Jacqueline on Market Street. If you are looking for a true French bistro, this is it. Adorable little marble topped tables with grand windows and frilly chandeliers give the place just the right ooh-la-la. And the menu? I had a hard time choosing what to eat. We settled for mimosas to start followed by two phenomenal crepe dishes—duck confit and smoked salmon with capers. I could easily have chosen the Lyonnaise, a frisée salad with lardon and a poached egg. That happens to be my absolute favorite. Add a crisp Sancerre and that’s all you need for a perfect lunch. But wait, there’s more. Why not try the quiche Lorraine, croque Madame, or steak frites? The menu was a joy to read—and probably a joy to eat if I could fit that much in my belly all at once.  

Moving on to Shipyard Brewing Co., we snagged another flight. They have an adorable system of providing the flight tray with chalk for you to hand-pick which beers you’d like to try. And because they’ve got an ungodly amount of beers to choose from, your best bet is to put down the number of the beer. Writing the name in a tiny space? Waste of time. These beers were definitely better than Sebago, in my opinion. They had a little more balance of hops and malt and a crisper taste. But then again, beer is beer in a lot of ways. You can only manipulate hops, barley, malt and yeast just so much.

After our burp-y beer, we were in need of a walk. Melissa and I took a stroll to the East End Promenade, which is a park area by Casco Bay. Just our luck, the clouds rolled in as we attempted to take a photo of the sweeping shoreline. I hopped down the hill a little closer to the water and got a few good pics. But still, the view was a little narrow.

The fog gave in to a pouring rain later on, which led us to a great little place I would happily return to any time. Lolita Vinoteca + Asador has an actual fire-burning oven in which they roast their chickens slowly and purposefully. With a glass of bubbly in hand, we asked for a cheese and charcuterie plate. When asked what we’d like, “surprise us!” was the answer. And oh, they did. Fennel salami with whole grain mustard, cornichons, and hunks of sourdough bread complemented the Weybridge and Dorset cheeses. A drizzle of local honey gave the plate just the right kick of sweetness necessary to nearly lick the plate. 

With a brewpub practically on every corner, it was obviously time to have another beer. We hit Oxbow Blending & Bottling on Washington Ave. I had the Space Cowboy, a French-style ale brewed with oats. Melissa had the Farmhouse Pale Ale. Both were refreshingly good. There was an incredibly long list of other beers. But of all the breweries we tried, I would say I liked this one the best. Plus, Duckfat has a little outpost outside. Wash down your poutine with a crispy ale and life is good.

Then, we visited a staple spot in Portland: Central Provisions on Fore Street. Originally, the space was a storefront to hold provisions for the East India Trading Company in the 19th century. Many iterations later, it became the hot spot it is today focused on local and organic foods, small plates, and craft cocktails. We could have had a range of delicious bites. Yet, we settled for arctic char crudo with a fig reduction and more sparkling wine. The char and the wine were great. I’m not so sure the fig worked, but I liked the idea of a sweet component to raw fish when so often it is paired with savory sauces.

Just a few doors down, Miyake was a sweet little find. Two glasses of sake—one with earthy, mushroomy notes and the other more floral and fruity. Both were really good. Pairing the sake with sashimi was obviously a lovely, light combination. Then, we tried something totally different: monkfish pâté. It seemed to be fish liver steamed then whipped and molded into a turine, given time to set, and then sliced. A lacing of a ginger soy topped it off. 

From there, we made our way to Hot Suppa on Congress Street. A high-ceilinged brick Victorian in Portland’s West End, we finished our food frenzy for the night with more oysters—two platters of them, in fact. This time we paired them with a light, crisp Provençal rosé. 

The last stop for the night was the Bearded Lady’s Jewel Box just down the street from Hot Suppa. This place was worth the visit if only because it was so off the beaten track. Formerly a speakeasy, you could easily miss this place if you sneezed. A one-room bar with lacy tulle strips hanging from the ceiling giving the feel of a music boxe that plays tinny tunes every time you open the lid. But that’s not the fun part of this place—it’s the cocktails with enough alcohol to grow chest hair. Drinks containing bitters and distilled liqueurs are offset by brown sugar, honey, fruits, and herbs. My drink had a base of cynar (pronounced chee-nar), which is an Italian distilled spirit made from artichokes. It sounds as medicinal and bitter as it tasted. However, the sweetness of orange balanced it out...a little.

Heading out the next day, we needed a good breakfast. We tried stopping off at Dutch’s, but the line was out the door. Strolling along a little further on Cumberland Ave, we came across a little German place called Schulte & Herr. Small space, but very quaint. The menu detailed a platter of meats and cheeses, cucumber dill salad in vinaigrette, spaetzle, schnitzel, potato pancakes. The list goes on. This was as authentic as it gets. In fact, the owner closes shop a couple of times a year to visit family in Germany. If you’re ever craving Octoberfest, this would be the spot for you.

We hit as many places as possible in the short time we were there. Yet, there are still so many we missed. Clearly, we need to visit again soon and I really hope we do.