Aileen's Chocolate Mousse

Adapted by Lewis Sowell from his friend Aileen Martin Berrard
From Classic Cakes and Other Great Cuisinart Desserts by Carl G. Sontheimer and Cecily Brownstone (Hearst Books, 1994)

Serves 6 to 8

I learned this recipe from Lewis long before I noticed that a very similar recipe, attributed to Aileen, appears in Classic Cakes and Other Great Cuisinart Desserts under the name Mourêmes au Chocolat.

Lewis told me Aileen traveled across the country with Carl Sontheimer, giving demonstrations of a new kitchen marvel—the Cuisinart. Adapted from the Robot Coupe, a commercial food processor used in French restaurants, it brought professional efficiency into the home and launched a cooking revolution.

This recipe is not a classic mousse, but it’s still the best word to describe it. It’s rich and smooth with a surprisingly silken texture once chilled. I use chocolate between 64% and 70% cocoa.

When you pour the mixture into ramekins or a serving bowl, it seems far too liquid to work—but after an overnight chill, its texture sets into something thick, elegant, and deeply satisfying. Because it’s so rich, small servings are ideal. I either put it into individual ramekins or into a single bowl to serve from.

Caution: The eggs in this recipe are not cooked, so make sure they are from a source you trust. Do not serve this to anyone with a compromised immune system, including the very old and the very young.

½ cup sugar
½ cup water
2 large eggs, at room temperature
Pinch of salt
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate (chips or hand-chopped)
2 tablespoons Cognac or 4 tablespoons Kahlúa (optional)
1 cup cold heavy cream
Whipped cream for serving (optional)

Put the sugar and water in a small saucepan and boil until dissolved into a simple syrup.

Put the eggs and a pinch of salt into the food processor fitted with the metal blade. Process until blended.

Add the chocolate and process again. The mixture may look lumpy; don’t worry.

With the machine running, pour the still-hot syrup through the feed tube. Process until the chocolate is fully melted and the mixture is smooth. Transfer this to a clean bowl and set aside.

Without washing the food processor bowl, pour in the cold cream and process until it (sort of) whips.

Add the chocolate mixture back to the bowl with the whipped cream, along with the liqueur if using. Process again until smooth. The mixture will be thin—like chocolate milk—but will thicken as it chills.

Pour into ramekins, pots de crème, small glasses, or a single serving bowl. Chill overnight. Serve with whipped cream if desired.

Note: This recipe can be cut in half. When I do that, I use my Cuisinart Little Pro.

Vanilla Cake with Chantilly Cream

Adapted from Posie Harwood Brien on FOOD52

Sometimes you need to bake a cake. Perhaps it’s for a birthday; perhaps you have some special strawberries and want a cake to serve them with; perhaps someone asks you to bake them a cake. The cakes I like are all single layer and rather plain, and this looks like a very plain cake—but it turns out to be packed with vanilla flavor and served with a luxurious, fragrant whipped cream.

Notes

I prefer cooking and baking using metric measurements. I think it’s particularly important with baking, which requires precision in order to be repeatable. 

Posie Harwood says you can use a hand-held electric mixer for this recipe, but I would not make it without a stand mixer, because beating the eggs and sugar until they are light and fluffy is a crucial step. While I am an enthusiastic baker, I would not say I am an accomplished one.

When you get to the step of folding the melted butter into the batter, it is important to be scrupulous about fully incorporating it.

My favorite cake pans are Parrish Magic Line aluminum. They are well-made, and the square and rectangular ones have actual square borders.

Ingredients for the Cake

198 grams (14 tablespoons) butter, melted and cooled – do this first (I like Kerrygold butter.)
200 grams granulated sugar (I like Domino Golden Sugar.)
Extra sugar for coating the bottom and sides of the cake pan
3 eggs at room temperature, or better yet, warmed for a short time in a bowl of warm water
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste (This is what really packs that vanilla wallop.)
¼ teaspoon salt (I use fine sea salt.)
136 grams flour
Extra butter for coating the bottom and sides of the cake pan

Instructions for the Cake

Preheat the oven to 350°F; do not use convection.

Line an 8-inch round cake pan with parchment. Before you put the parchment down, dot the center of the pan with a little butter to secure the paper. Butter the bottom and sides of the cake pan, and coat with granulated sugar.

Using a stand mixer, beat the eggs with the sugar for 5 minutes or a little more, until the mixture doubles in size. Add the vanilla bean paste and salt, and mix gently.

Remove the bowl from the mixer, and sift the flour over the egg mixture. I do this with a hand-held strainer rather than a flour sifter. Gently fold the flour into the batter with a spatula, trying not to deflate it.

Add the melted butter and fold it in thoroughly using a spatula. Again, try not to deflate the batter, but be sure to incorporate the butter completely, leaving no streaks behind.

Pour the batter into the cake pan and bake until the cake starts to pull away slightly from the sides—about 35 minutes in my oven.

Remove from the oven and immediately run a knife or small spatula around the sides to loosen the cake from the sugar coating. Let the cake cool for 5 minutes, then turn it out onto a wire rack to finish cooling.

Ingredients for the Chantilly Cream

1 cup heavy cream
1 tablespoon vanilla bean paste
2 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar

Beat the cream with the vanilla bean paste and sugar until stiff peaks form. I use a hand-held electric mixer with a small metal bowl and beaters (an extra set) that I always keep in the freezer especially for whipping cream. You want the whipped cream to be stable, but don’t overbeat it or it will turn grainy.

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French Apple Cake

In two weeks’ time, I’m going to spend the afternoon with my childhood best friend. We haven’t seen each other in - I hate to say how long - 42 years, if I’m counting correctly. We’ve been able to keep track of each other all these years because our parents were friends. In fact, when my dad died in 2006, Sharyn’s father sat next to me at the funeral, holding my hand.

I have lots of memories of Sharyn - her bronze patent leather Capezios for Easter Sunday; her New Year’s Eve birthday; trick or treating in the snow after an early winter storm; taking tap dancing lessons together. I never pick up a jar of Kosciusko Mustard without thinking of her because I remember how much she liked it.

The big question now is where should we go to lunch?

We can’t go to Pearl Oyster Bar. Sharyn’s from Maine, so taking her to a restaurant in New York City that is modeled after a Maine lobster shack would be rather ridiculous, even if Rebecca Charles’s salt crusted shrimp is one of the best things to eat in the world.

Should we go to The Four Seasons because it’s fancy? Swifty’s because Jane recommended it? Brio because the Italian food is so good tourists from Italy eat there? Girasole because it’s in my neighborhood? The Lincoln because it’s hot? The Lexington Candy Shop with its old fashioned soda fountain because it’s fun?

Ah ha. The Trustee’s Dining Room at The Metropolitan Museum.

The food is excellent, the room is comfortable, the view is lovely, and we can talk without interruption. After lunch if it’s a nasty day, we can wander around the Museum; if it’s nice, the Park.

Then we can go back to my apartment and have a cup of tea (everybody drinks tea, right?) and a piece of this plain, not-too-sweet but lovely cake before Sharyn meets Doug for a dinner where he is the guest speaker.

This cake is just the ticket for a restorative afternoon snack. It’s adapted from Around My French Table by Dorie Greenspan - the creator of World Peace Cookies, which, I believe, would get democrats and republicans working together if someone would just make a lot of them and lug them to Congress.

World Peace Cookies

French Apple Cake
Adapted from Around My French Table by Dorie Greenspan

¾ cups all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon baking powder
A pinch of salt
4 large apples - 4 different kinds are best because you can have crisp, soft, sweet, and tart
2 large eggs
¾ cup sugar
3 tablespoons dark rum - I use Goslings Black Seal
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ pound unsalted butter, melted and cooled (1 American stick)
Softened butter for coating the cake pan

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Butter an 8-inch springform pan.

In a small bowl stir the flour, baking powder, and salt together with a fork.

Peel the apples. Cut them in half, and cut four large pieces off around the apple, leaving just the cores, which you will discard. I find this easier than using an apple corer. Cut the pieces into chunks, about an inch big. A little larger than an inch is fine.

Break the eggs into a large bowl, and beat them with a whisk until they foam a little. Add the sugar, whisk to blend, then whisk in the rum and vanilla. Add half the flour and whisk until incorporated, then whisk in half the melted butter. Repeat this step by whisking in the other half of the flour followed by the rest of the melted butter, and mix until the batter is smooth and thick. Using a rubber or silicone spatula, fold in the apples, turning until the fruit is coated with batter. You will find there are more apples than batter; this is how it’s supposed to be.

Scrape the mixture into the buttered springform pan, and spread it around with the spatula until it’s as even as you can get it. It won’t be perfect because there are so many apples.

Put a piece of parchment on a baking sheet - I use a half sheet pan - and put the springform pan on it. Slide the baking sheet with the springform pan on it into the oven. Bake until the top of the cake is golden brown and a knife or cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean. This will take about 50 to 60 minutes.

Transfer the cake to a cooling rack, and leave it for 5 minutes.

Run a blunt knife around the edge of the cake. This should be easy as the cake will probably have already pulled away from the sides of the pan, but still be sure to open the springform pan slowly to make sure no apples have stuck to the sides.

It may be eaten warm or at room temperature and is particularly delicious with some lightly whipped cream with a little sugar and rum in it. The cake should keep well for 2 days, but do not cover it. You can put a strip of wax paper on the cut ends.

Print recipe.

Walnut Brandy Cake

Adapted from :pastry studio

The four blogs I followed faithfully when they were active were: The Wednesday Chef, Orangette, Rachel Eats, and :pastry studio, whose author, Gayle Gonzales, once wrote:

“I favor outlaw pastry—simple, fresh, custom, minimally sweet handmade objects of desire formed in an open space where nothing comes between the art and the practice.”

The writing at :pastry studio is sensual; the photos are beautiful; and the recipes are spare, elegant, and they work. Gayle also wrote a beautiful e-cookbook, The Global Pastry Table, available on Kindle, Apple Books, and other eBook platforms.

All four of these bloggers went on to become published authors. I still return to their work often.

This cake is a favorite of mine. Rather plain—but not like Plain Jane. More like your favorite jeans: they fit perfectly and are comfortably broken in. It’s great to have hanging around the kitchen, but it won’t be there long. It’s eminently snackable at all times of the day and night.

It’s especially good around 4:00 p.m. with a cup of tea. After dinner, you can slice it into fingers and serve it with whatever ice cream sounds good to you—perhaps vanilla, coffee, or a nut-studded one (depending on the nuts you used in the cake). And maybe a small glass of brandy?

Walnut Brandy Cake
From :pastry studio

Serves 8 to 10

6 ounces unsalted butter
1 cup granulated sugar (I use Domino Golden)
3 large eggs, at room temperature
3 tablespoons brandy
1 teaspoon vanilla
1½ cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 cup coarsely chopped toasted nuts—walnuts, almonds, pecans, or hazelnuts

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Oil an 8½ x 4¼–inch loaf pan (a one-pound loaf pan). Cut a piece of parchment paper large enough to line the bottom lengthwise with a bit of overhang.

Toast the nuts. :pastry studio says the nuts can be toasted “in a 350 degree oven for about 10 minutes, until they are only slightly darkened and give off a toasty aroma.” I stir them at the 5-minute mark.

Cream the butter, then slowly add the sugar and beat in a stand mixer or with a hand mixer until light and fluffy.

Add the eggs one at a time, making sure each is fully incorporated before adding the next.

In a small bowl or cup, combine the brandy and vanilla.

In another small bowl, mix the flour, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg. Then sift this mixture onto a piece of aluminum foil.

Add a third of the flour mixture to the butter mixture, followed by half of the brandy mixture. Beat to combine. Add another third of the flour, the remaining brandy mixture, and beat again. Add the last third of the flour and beat just until incorporated. Then switch to a spatula and fold in the nuts by hand.

Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and bake for 45 to 50 minutes, or until a cake tester comes out clean.

Cool the cake in the pan on a wire rack. After about 30 minutes, remove it from the pan and let cool completely.

Puff Pancake with Strawberries

I have pretty much edited my blog not to have stories here because most people aren't really interested. I am leaving this one because I like it so much. You can, of course, skip down to the recipe.

The first year Dick and I were married, we lived in St. Louis. A disc jockey he knew from his days in Philadelphia was also living in St. Louis, and he and his girlfriend invited us to their house for dinner. The disc jockey was famous, and I remember his name. I’m embarrassed—and sorry—to say I can’t remember the name of his girlfriend. But I can picture her perfectly.

She was lovely—very small, almost elf-like—with short brown hair, irrepressibly curly, big blue eyes, and a wide, sincere smile. But what I remember most about her is not that she was so very pretty. It’s that, up to that point in my life, she made the best meal I had ever had at someone else’s house. The actual best.

I’m sure we had a starter, and I’m sure it was good, but I don’t remember. What I do remember is the main course. It was rich and Delicious with a capital D, and it was the first Julia Child recipe I ever ate: Suprêmes de Volaille à Blanc from The French Chef Cookbook—simple, elegant, and rich, rich, rich. I don't remember what the rest of the main course was, but I remember we drank Champagne and talked and laughed and ate. We were all relaxed and happy.

But that’s not the point of this story. This is.

As we were eating dinner, the elf left the table and disappeared into the kitchen for a short time. I didn’t suspect that she was an alchemist as well as a cook, but I soon made that discovery. She came back, and we continued eating until there wasn't a morsel left on a plate. She didn't want any help clearing the table, and after she whisked the plates away, I could hear her rustling around in the kitchen. Doors were opening and closing. Dishes were clicking. Cutlery was clinking.

And then she came back through the doorway carrying a bowl of strawberries in one hand and another of softly whipped cream in the other. She placed both bowls on the table and disappeared into the kitchen for a split second, re-emerging immediately with a frying pan from which a large browned puff was swelling. She put the pan on the table and deftly cut the large puff into four pieces, which she plated and topped with one large spoonful of strawberries and another of lightly vanilla-scented whipped cream.

My husband and I were speechless—first because the sight of this dessert was breathtaking, and then when our mouths were full. The closest thing I ever had to it was my Aunt Rita’s Yorkshire pudding—and it was very close—but the Yorkshire pudding was cooked in beef fat, topped with gravy, and was savory. This was dessert—just sweet enough, all cold and hot and eggy and creamy at the same time, with the surprise of toasted, buttery, sliced filberts on the bottom. It was a grand ending to a very good dinner. After some coffee and brandy, we went home sated and comfortable after a night filled with good company, delicious things to eat and drink, and new friends in a new town.

The next day, I went to the bookstore and got my first Julia Child cookbook, a little paperback copy of The French Chef. On Wednesday an envelope addressed to me—written in red ink in very neat, small handwriting—was waiting for me when I got home from work. Inside was the recipe for Puff Pancake with Strawberries. Written in a small printed hand, it completely filled an entire side of an 8½ x 11-inch piece of ruled paper. I put that piece of paper in a little accordion file that a friend had given me at my bridal shower, filled with her favorite handwritten recipes. I still have that file, and I still have those recipes, and—more years later than I can believe—I still have that piece of paper with the precise red handwriting.

There is no signature, but there is an admonition to SERVE AT ONCE, and the following note is at the bottom:

Filberts are 100-times more delicious than walnuts. Also, Victoria, there’s really no trick to making this pancake—it’s extremely EASY. However, it must go straight from the oven to the table piping HOT since it, like a soufflé, loses its puff rather quickly. Also, do try it for a Sunday brunch with sausage or whatever, topping it with sour cream—it really adds a new dimension to the dish. And serve with Champagne.

I pass on the recipe with thanks to the elf, along with apologies for not remembering her name, and maybe also for calling her an elf—which in no way is meant to disparage her, but to say she seemed to me a most magical being who introduced me to this delicious dessert and to Julia Child. I may not remember her name; however, I have never forgotten her or that evening.

A number of years after that evening, I was living in Atlanta when someone who worked at WGBH in Boston—the station that produced Julia Child’s The French Chef—came to my house for dinner. I didn’t serve the puff pancake that night, but I did make the chicken dish and told the story of how I came to know it.

A few weeks later, as a complete surprise, I received a hardcover copy of The French Chef Cookbook in the mail—inscribed:

Bon Appétit to Victoria Carr — The French Chef, Julia Child

Puff Pancake with Strawberries

Serves 4

2 eggs
½ cup milk
½ cup all-purpose (unbleached) flour
Dash nutmeg
½ cup butter
½ cup thinly sliced filberts (hazelnuts), about 2 oz., or use walnuts, crushed
Juice of half a lemon
2 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
1 pint fresh strawberries, sliced and sugared (Victoria: I never use a pint—always a quart box)
Whipped cream (if serving dish as a dessert)
Sour cream (if serving dish for a brunch with sausage, etc.)

Beat eggs lightly in mixing bowl. Add milk, flour, and nutmeg, and beat by hand until blended. Batter may be a little lumpy.

Melt butter in a 10- to 12-inch skillet with heat-proof handle over medium heat until butter begins to foam. Stir in filberts.

Pour batter into hot skillet over filberts. Bake in a preheated 425°F oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until pancake is puffed and golden brown. Sprinkle with lemon juice and return to oven for 2 to 3 minutes.

Sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar and SERVE AT ONCE by cutting into wedges and topping with strawberries and whipped cream for dessert or sour cream for brunch.

Almond Cake

Adapted from Pure Dessert by Alice Medrich (Clarkson Potter, 2007)
Serves 8

This cake can be served unadorned or topped with softly whipped cream, with or without fruit. Lightly marinated strawberries are especially nice. If you use the optional Amaretto in the recipe and plan to serve it with whipped cream, you might want to flavor the cream lightly with Amaretto and even serve a small glass alongside.

If you're looking for a gluten-free Flourless Almond Cake, it is here.

4 ounces unblanched whole almonds
200g plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 large eggs, at room temperature
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into chunks and slightly softened, plus 1 generous tablespoon softened butter for the cake pan
1/2 teaspoon pure almond extract
1 tablespoon Amaretto, optional (I use Luxardo)
1.5 ounces flour
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/8g xanthan gum

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Butter the sides of an 8-by-2-inch round cake pan. Line the bottom with parchment paper; do not butter the paper.

Place the almonds, sugar, and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until the nuts are finely ground, being careful not to reduce them to flour. Add the eggs, butter, almond extract, and Amaretto, if using, and pulse until completely blended.

Mix the flour, baking powder, and xanthan gum together in a small bowl and add to the food processor. Pulse again, just long enough for the mixture to blend.

Scrape the batter into the pan, spreading evenly. Bake until the top is golden and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean, 30 to 40 minutes. (In my oven, 30 minutes works.)

Cool completely in the pan on a rack. To unmold, slide a thin spatula around the sides, cover the pan with a plate, and invert. Peel off the parchment, then cover with another plate and invert again so the cake is right-side up.

Note: My favorite Parrish Magic Line pans have apparently been discontinued. Their quality was excellent, made in the USA, and available in many sizes. Nordicware plain aluminum pans are a good substitute. Their half sheet pans remain my favorite.

Chocolate Torte

Adapted from Chocolate (Williams-Sonoma Kitchen Library) by Lora Brody (Time-Life Books, 1993)

This is the best almost-flourless (1 tablespoon of flour) chocolate cake I have ever made. It's very rich so a small cake goes a long way. I make it every year for Walter’s birthday, and if I even try to suggest something new and different, he protests. This recipe needs to be made at least one day, and up to two, in advance to cure.

The only catch with this recipe is you need to use a standing mixer because you beat four extra-large or five large eggs with one tablespoon of sugar until the mixture triples in volume.

Serves 8 to 10

500g semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, chopped
150g unsalted butter, at room temperature
4 extra-large eggs at room temperature (5 eggs if using large)
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
Confectioner's sugar for dusting the top of the cake (optional)
1 cup heavy cream, whipped softly, to top the cake

Preheat the oven to 425°F, and position the rack in the middle of the oven. Butter an 8-inch springform pan or an 8-inch by 2-inch pan with a loose bottom.

Line the bottom of the pan with a circle of parchment paper either bought all ready or cut to fit precisely. If you have to cut the paper yourself, the easiest way to do this is to trace the pan bottom on paper and cut it with scissors.

Butter the paper liner, and dust the whole pan with cocoa powder (because flour would show white), and tap out any excess.

Place the chocolate and butter in a heatproof bowl or the top pan of a double boiler set over a pan of gently simmering water. Do not let the pan touch the water. Stir occasionally until the chocolate and butter are melted. (Alternatively, you can do this step in the microwave, but do it in 30-second increments, stirring between each thirty seconds until it's all melted, being very careful not to burn the chocolate.) Stir to combine the butter and chocolate completely.

Remove the bowl or top of the double boiler from the pan of simmering water to get it away from the heat, scrape the mixture into a bowl large enough to eventually hold all the batter, and let cool for a few minutes.

Place the eggs and sugar in the bowl of your electric mixer. I use a KitchenAid fitted with the paddle, not the whisk.

Set the mixer on high speed, and beat the eggs with the 1 tablespoon of sugar until light, fluffy, and tripled in volume. This will take about 10 minutes.

Reduce the speed to low, and beat in the 1 tablespoon of flour.

In the next step this mixture is going to be folded into the chocolate mixture, so the chocolate has to be in a bowl large enough to hold it. If it isn't, transfer the chocolate/butter mixture to a big enough bowl at this point.

Using a rubber spatula, fold one-third of the egg mixture into the chocolate to lighten it, and then carefully fold in the remaining egg mixture, being careful not to deflate the batter. Pour and scrape the batter into the prepared pan, and smooth the top with the spatula.

Bake for exactly 15 minutes. Remove the cake from the oven, put on a cooling rack, and let cool completely to room temperature. The cake may deflate slightly, but it won't matter. Do not refrigerate. I like to let it cure overnight before serving.

The cake will pull away from the sides of the pan as it cools, but run a blunt knife all the way around the cake before you remove it from the pan to be sure it doesn't stick.

The top can be dusted with confectioner's sugar if you wish. (I have a holiday patisserie cake stencil set from Kaiser, which I use when I make the cake around the holidays.)

Cut the cake into small wedges, and serve each wedge topped with softly whipped cream.

If you want to be truly luxurious, and who doesn’t on occasion, also serve with crème anglaise and raspberry coulis on the side.

Italian Carrot Cake

Adapted from Marcella’s Italian Kitchen by Marcella Hazan (Harper & Row, 1986)

Barbara and Aunt Rita discovered this lovely Marcella Hazan recipe in the December 1997 issue of Food & Winemagazine. I later realized it also appears in Marcella’s Italian Kitchen, one of my very favorite cookbooks. I’ve been meaning to post it for a long time and just haven’t gotten around to it. It’s for the kind of cake I just love—plain with a delicious crumb—the sort of cake Molly makes; the type of cake Clotilde bakes. You would like those; I think you’ll like this one.

Serves 8 to 10

9 ounces whole almonds, unblanched (very important—I’ve often followed Marcella’s advice to use unblanched almonds in other recipes, and she’s right)
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
9 ounces carrots, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1/4 pound store-bought Savoiardi (Italian ladyfingers)
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 tablespoon Amaretto liqueur
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs, separated
1 tablespoon butter for greasing the pan (there is no fat in the actual cake)
Lightly whipped cream to top the cake (optional—but good)

Preheat the oven to 325°F. Place the Savoiardi on a baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes, or until crisp. Remove from the oven, let cool slightly, then break into small pieces. Raise the oven temperature to 350°F and grease the bottom of a 10-inch springform pan with butter. (If you are not using a springform pan, line a 10-inch cake pan with buttered parchment paper. I assume you can use a 9-inch pan if that’s what you have, but I haven’t tried it myself.)

Place the almonds and sugar in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade and process until the almonds are ground fine—but not turned into almond butter. Transfer to a large mixing bowl.

Place the carrot pieces in the processor bowl (still using the metal blade) and chop as finely as possible. Add the chopped carrots to the almond/sugar mixture and mix well.

Add the Savoiardi pieces to the food processor and process until very fine. Add to the bowl and combine thoroughly.

Add the baking powder, Amaretto, and salt to the bowl and mix well. Then stir in the egg yolks.

In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until they form stiff peaks. Stir 1 to 2 tablespoons of the beaten whites into the mixture in the bowl to lighten it, then gently fold in the remaining egg whites.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan. Place the pan on the upper rack of the oven and bake for 50 to 60 minutes. Begin checking at 50 minutes with a cake tester—if it comes out dry, the cake is done.

Let the cake cool slightly before removing it from the pan. Serve at room temperature, with lightly whipped cream if you wish.

This cake will keep, wrapped in foil, for up to a week without refrigeration. But there’s no chance it will last that long unless you leave town before finishing it.

Crème Pâtissière

Adapted from The French Chef Cookbook by Julia Child (Knopf, 1968)

The French Chef was my first—and is still my favorite—Julia.

6 egg yolks
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup all-purpose flour
2 cups hot whole milk (it’s Julia, after all)
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon vanilla extract (I use Nielsen-Massey Madagascar Bourbon, which I keep in the fridge)
1–2 tablespoons Amaretto or Frangelico*

Julia Child recommends a heavy-bottomed 2½-quart non-reactive saucepan, but I think a saucier is ideal here so you don’t have to fight a right angle at the bottom. I use my All-Clad Tri-Ply 3-quart stainless saucier.

Place the egg yolks in the pan and gradually whisk in the sugar. Keep whisking until the mixture becomes thick, pale yellow, and forms a ribbon. Whisk in the flour, then slowly whisk in the hot milk in a thin stream.

Set the pan over moderately high heat and whisk continuously, slowly but steadily, until the mixture thickens. If it gets lumpy (don’t panic), beat vigorously with a whisk until it smooths out again. Lower the heat and continue stirring for several more minutes to fully cook the flour and thicken the cream.

Remove from heat and stir in the butter and your liqueur of choice. Transfer to a clean bowl. To prevent a skin from forming, film the surface with about ½ tablespoon more of the same liqueur. Chill.

*Julia calls for rum, and you can absolutely use it. I usually use Amaretto or Frangelico because I love almond and hazelnut flavors.

Licorice Ice Cream

Adapted from A Sweet Quartet by Fran Gage (North Point Press, 2002) and Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream Desserts by Jeni Britton Bauer (Artisan, 2014)

I started making all my own ice cream when I moved to the country from New York City ten years ago. I mostly make one particular flavor—Sweet Cream—adapted from Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream Desserts by Jeni Britton Bauer, and I always keep a pint of it in the freezer.

But this ice cream is something different: delicate, soft buff in color, and gently elusive in flavor. Some people wouldn’t recognize it as licorice. It flummoxes them: Is this gingerbread? Is it chai? So I think it’s entirely possible that even people who claim not to like licorice might enjoy this, with its subtle hint of anise.

Serves 1 quart

600g whole milk
336g heavy cream
150g granulated sugar (I use Domino Golden Sugar)
3 tablespoons Lyle’s Golden Syrup (you could use corn syrup, but I don’t)
14g Bob’s Red Mill Tapioca Flour (you could use cornstarch, but I don’t)
56g cream cheese
⅛ teaspoon fine sea salt
2 Yogi brand Egyptian Licorice Tea bags

Prep Steps

Weigh the tapioca flour or cornstarch into a very small prep bowl.

Weigh the 56g of cream cheese onto a small plate. Add the sea salt to the top of the cream cheese and press it in using the tines of a fork. Transfer the salted cream cheese to a container you can later blend some of the hot mixture into. (I use a tall glass measuring beaker that I have for when I need to measure milliliters because I don’t like to use the plastic container that came with my immersion blender with hot liquids.)

Measure the Lyle’s Golden Syrup into a small glass (I use a 5-ounce measure). You can microwave it for about 30 seconds if you want it to pour more easily.

Cook the Base

I use a 3-quart saucier here as it’s easy to stir the mixture with its rounded bottom and flared sides. Pour the milk into the pan you are using and scoop out a small amount and mix it thoroughly with the tapioca flour in the small prep bowl. Set this slurry aside.

Add the cream, sugar, and Lyle’s to the milk in the saucepan. Stir, and bring to a low boil. Boil gently for 4 minutes, stirring constantly. Turn off the heat. Move the pan to a cool burner. Remove the tags from the tea bags, add them to the mixture, and let steep for 15 minutes.

At the end of the steeping time, remove the tea bags and squeeze them gently into the mixture to extract all the flavor.

Stir the tapioca slurry again to ensure it’s smooth, then add it to the pan and whisk it in. Move the pan back to the original burner and bring back to a low boil, stirring constantly, and boil for one minute. Remove from the heat immediately.

Blend and Chill

Add a little of the hot mixture to the salted cream cheese in the beaker and blend until smooth. (An immersion blender works well here.) Return that mixture to the pan and stir to combine. Strain the whole mixture through a fine sieve into an 8-cup Pyrex measuring cup or other easy-pour container.

Transfer the base to a lidded container. (You could use a well-sealed zip-top bag, but I don’t.) Place it in an ice bath: I use a large stainless bowl, add cold water around the container of mixture without letting it spill in, and chill it down with reusable ice packs rather than ice cubes, which would also work well and would be easy if you have an ice maker; I do not.

Once cool, refrigerate the mixture overnight to cure.

Spin and Store

The next day, spin the chilled base in your ice cream machine according to manufacturer’s instructions.

Pack the finished ice cream into two pint-size cardboard containers. (I cut 6-inch parchment circles to place on top before sealing.)

Let the ice cream firm in the freezer for at least 8 hours before serving.