Butterscotch Oatmeal Cookies (A Funny Thing Happened)

There are few times in a person’s life when having an oatmeal cookie sounds like a bad idea.  Perhaps when giving birth, or when running a six-minute mile. Otherwise, it is fair game as far as I am concerned. 

Oatmeal cookies say warmth, fall, and comfortable sweaters. These do not suggest otherwise.  My coworker, Anne, first brought them into work, thick with white chocolate and dried cranberries.  And while I do not really love either adornment in other sweet things, I quickly decided they were some of the best cookies I had ever known.  

So I got the recipe.  Swapped in butterscotch and apricot for the chocolate and cranberries.  Then I baked and I tasted, hot out of the oven. 

The cookie was okay. It was not one of the best I had ever known. 

I ate three more, just to be sure.  And then I put the rest in plastic bags, sealed them in, and went to bed feeling a little sick.

But a funny thing happened overnight. Those boring little cookies morphed into something else entirely. Something nutty and chewy, with a dose of oats thick enough to suggest they mean business.  Plus a caramel undercarriage and just enough salt to balance it all out.

I am going to go ahead and say that browning the butter is a must, as is baking them the night before you need them.  The walnuts are in there for a reason, so resist the urge to take them out if you can. You will need good quality oats too, along with a little patience.  I suspect you can hang loose with the chocolate and dried fruit.

The rest pretty much takes care of itself.  We are not birthing a child here, mind you, but having a recipe like this still feels like a win.

Butterscotch Oatmeal Cookies

Ingredients:

• ½ cup walnuts
• 2⅔ cups old-fashioned oats
• 1½ cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tsp baking soda
• ½ tsp salt
• 1 cup chopped dried apricots
• 6 ounces of butterscotch chips
• 1 cup unsalted butter
• 1⅓ cup dark muscovado sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Instructions:

Toast the walnuts until fragrant (either in the oven or in a pan; I used a cast-iron skillet); set aside.  

Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper; set aside.  In a medium bowl, add the oats and sift in the flour, baking soda, and salt; add in the apricots and butterscotch.  Finely chop the walnuts and stir in until everything is well combined.

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium low heat until it turns golden brown and fragrant (about four minutes); this happens very quickly so be sure to watch.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, pour in the browned butter and whisk in the sugar until well combined (a minute or two).  Add in the eggs, cinnamon, and vanilla and whisk until well combined.  Add in the dry mixture and stir until just combined.  (The mixture will be thick.)

Chill the batter for 15 to 30 minutes; meanwhile preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Once chilled, scoop the batter using a tablespoon to gather up a heaping amount (about 2 to 3 tbsp) of dough and gently round it loosely into balls spaced 2 inches apart on the prepared sheets.

Bake until lightly golden and just dry to the touch but still soft in the center (about 10 minutes).  

Slide the parchment onto wire racks to cool.  Line the sheets with more parchment and repeat with remaining batches.

Makes about 2 dozen cookies

Notes:

1. Let the walnuts cool slightly so they aren’t piping hot when you mix them in.
2. My oven runs a little hot, so I ended up dropping the temperature slightly, but these cook pretty quickly so watch them.
3. These freeze beautifully and really do get better with age.
4. If you do not have muscovado, use dark or light brown sugar and don’t look back.
    

Rose Angel Food with Orange Blossom Cream: Save the Cake

It seems logical that a cake requiring twelve eggs (and only the puny fat-free parts) would become defunct almost immediately. Lest you think angel food cake has gone the way of the Dodo, please reconsider. 

It is true the last person I remember to bake the dessert was my grandmother.  She used to alternate between angel food cake and something called Love in Bloom, which dictated cream cheese be mixed with heavy cream and spread over a premade graham cracker crust, then topped with cherry pie filling.  

It is also true she recently turned ninety. And it is highly unlikely she makes either of these options on a regular basis now. 

Do not be misled.  She is a spry woman who lives alone and still flips her mattress regularly.  Though I think when you enter your tenth decade, you probably yearn less and less for foods with cherubic undercurrents.

Perhaps there are people still Love in Bloom-ing on a regular basis, but the recent trend has been to gather around lusty, big bosomed desserts that take kindly to things like bacon, sea salt, and good old fashioned lard.  No matter.  Anything that encourages an empty wine bottle peaks my interest, immediately.  (In this case, a bygone rosé.)  Add in an innate companionship for summer berries and you have my undivided attention.

It had been too long since my last encounter, so I had to go hunting for a recipe.  I found support where I often do: with Mrs. Garten and Mr. Lebovitz (plus my mother).  And then I had to do something I hate doing.  Obtain very specific cake parts. 

Including caster sugar, cake flour, a plan for a dozen egg yolks, and other persnickety things, like a specific two-piece tube pan.  Luckily, the latter was a gift recently scored at a garage sale. (Which may implicate the dessert’s passing proclivities even further). 

Do not be deterred.  She is fussy, but worth it.

What resulted was one of the lightest, softest cakes I have eaten in years.  Quite good on its own, capable of being sliced and palmed on a moment’s notice.  Ethereal paired with unsweetened whipped cream and the ripest berries you can find. 

I added rose water to the batter and orange blossom into the cream, because they are heady and romantic and perfect for a cloud-like, and arguably antiquated, cake.  Some souls find these flavors to be too grandmotherly, so simply leave them out if you are in this camp.  (I am not.) 

Either way, the cake should be rebranded as vintage, and swiped off the endangered list.

Or perhaps I am mistaken.  Perhaps it never really left us.  Old often becomes anew.  Here, rosé begets rose. And cake becomes better cake.

Rose Angel Food Cake with Orange Blossom Cream and Berries

Adapted from Barefoot Contessa Family Style by Ina Garten

Ingredients:

for the cake

• 1½ cups egg whites (10-12 eggs), at room temperature
• 2 cups sifted superfine (caster) sugar, divided
• 1⅓ cups cake flour
• ¾ tsp kosher salt
• 1½ tsp cream of tartar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• zest of 1 large lemon
• 1 tsp rose water

for the whipped topping

• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1 tsp orange blossom water

for the berries

• 2 cups berries (blackberries, blueberries, et cetera.), divided
• a few drops of fresh lemon or lime juice
• 1 to 2 tbsp sugar
• splash of Grand Marnier

Instructions:

one or two hours ahead

Separate your eggs; save the egg yolks for another use and let the whites come to room temperature.

to make the cake

Set the oven to 350 degrees.

Place a fine sieve over a medium bowl and sift ½ cup of the sugar and all the cake flour together into the bowl.  Sift this mixture three more times (you may wish to get another bowl so you can easily move it back and forth).

In the bowl of a stand mixer, place the egg whites, salt, and cream of tartar.  Whip on high speed with the whisk attachment until medium firm peaks form (about a minute). (At first, my cream of tartar clumped a bit so I whipped the whites by hand until everything became incorporated and then resumed the mixer.)

With the mixer on medium speed, slowly sprinkle in the remaining sugar and whisk until thick and shiny (1 to 2 minutes more).  Add in the vanilla, lemon zest, and rose water and whisk until very thick (about another minute). 

Remove the bowl from the stand and sift one forth of the flour mixture into the egg whites; gently fold in the flour using a rubber spatula and then repeat 3 more times (adding a forth of flour each time), until everything is incorporated.

Pour the batter into an ungreased 10-inch tube pan.  Smooth the top and bake for 35 to 45 minutes, until the top is golden and springs back when touched.  Immediately invert the pan over a bottle (a wine bottle works well for this).  

Let completely cool.  

Loosen the cake by running your knife along the two inner rims, then remove the cake by gently tipping the pan sideways; run your knife along the bottom of the pan to fully extricate the cake.  Wrap tightly in plastic wrap until ready to serve.

to serve

In a medium saucepan, add 1 cup of the berries, citrus juice, sugar (to taste), and Grand Marnier and heat on medium until the berries start to give off liquid, but haven’t yet become mush (about 3 to 5 minutes).  Toss in remaining fresh berries and stir to combine.

Whip the cream until it becomes the consistency you prefer (I like mine on the thicker, denser side), drizzle in the orange blossom water; refrigerate until ready to serve.  Top each slice of cake with a dollop of whipped cream and spoon berries on top.

Makes enough for 8 humans

Notes:

1. The whipped cream and berry sauce can be prepared a day in advance, but omit the last cup of berries. Gently rewarm the sauce and add in the fresh berries right before serving.
2. The cake can be made two days ahead of time.  Keep in airtight container or wrap well with plastic wrap. Store at room temperature.
3. Don't have caster sugar?  Whirl granulated in a food processor.
    

Mom's Zucchini Appetizers

I’ll bet you once had a childhood.  And during that time you probably did some snacking.  And I’d wager you likely have a few foods that you haven’t eaten in a good fifteen or twenty years, but if you saw them today, for a moment, you might forget all the nasty bits of growing up.

Maybe it’s those twin popsicles—the kind with the double sticks that came in a big translucent bag to clearly boast the flavors it held.  

Or maybe your pick is a bit more unusual, like boxed pistachio pudding, in which case, you were probably a strange little child, and we likely would have gotten along very nicely.

My sister was a pigs-in-a-blanket fiend.  In her presence, party trays would leave the kitchen half demolished.  I stalked the chips and dip bowl and would not leave until the French onion dip was taken down. 

Unless a little something my mother called “zucchini appetizers” was prepared.

These were admittedly an odd snack caught somewhere between a crustless quiche and a bouncy bread pudding, of a savory sort.  I loved to eat them cold and to this day, they still taste like summer.  If summer could be mixed with Bisquick® and cubed.

You can probably see where this is going.

I was thumbing through my mother’s recipe book awhile back and came across these square zucchini snacks of hers.  Though ten-year-old Emily was thrilled, the Bisquick presented a challenge.  These days I’m not one for premade pancake mix, so I had to indulge my very adult snobbery and find a proper substitute.

Luckily, the Internet is brimming with do-it-yourself Bisquick people.  And after a few trials, I had pretty much replicated the appetizers.  I decreased the garlic, because it gives thirty-year-old Emily dyspepsia.  And added basil because I believe basil can be added to pretty much anything.  And just did what I was told on mom's recipe card:

Mix all ingredients.  Spread in a greased casserole. Bake until slightly golden on top.  Cut into bite-sized squares.  Serve hot or cold.

I only ever remember ever eating them cold.  And bite-sized by the handful.

Mom's Zucchini Appetizers

Ingredients:

• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1½ tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 4 eggs
• ½ cup olive oil
• 1 whole scallion, minced
• 1 small garlic clove, finely minced
• ½ cup grated parmesan cheese
• 3½ cups grated zucchini (about 3 small zucchini)
• ⅓ cup roughly chopped fresh basil leaves
• pinch of red pepper flakes
• a few turns of fresh black pepper

Instructions:

Set the oven to 350 degrees.  In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt; set aside.  In a medium bowl, lightly beat the eggs and then add in the remaining ingredients and stir to combine; mix the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients until just combined.

Butter a casserole dish (I used a 10 x 7).  Pour the mixture into the prepared dish and bake until the eggs have fully set and the top is golden brown around the edges, about 40 to 50 minutes. (If you are using a larger casserole pan, the time may be less.)

Makes about 12 bite-sized squares (or 6 as part of a meal)

Notes:

1. The 1 cup of Bisquick® originally called for in this recipe roughly translates to 1 cup of flour plus 1½ tsp of baking powder, ¼ cup of oil, and ½ tsp salt.
2. This also makes a very wonderful savory breakfast (particularly if you were a slightly odd child).