To glue my thin shaved beef to its base, I mixed up a fresh horseradish cream. You can usually find horseradish root in the produce section, looking a dusty and dingy cast off. But break the skin on it and its pungency will set any eyes in your kitchen to watering. It’s so powerful that you only need a little to give your creamy horseradish a strong kick. The main ingredient you’ll need is actually the sour cream. For about a pint of horsey sauce, I’ll combine 1 3/4 cups of sour cream with 1/8 – 1/4 cup fresh grated horseradish, a tsp of ground black pepper, and the juice of one lemon. If you don’t think it’s strong enough, let it sit overnight before throwing more horseradish in. This is definitely one of those flavors that blossoms with time.

Finally, the most complicated portion of this canape was the base. I’ve wanted to experiment with the flavors of pumpernickel for some time and if any of my toppings were going to stand up to ingredients such as rye, molasses, and caraway, they were the sturdy beef and pungent horseradish. I didn’t have a recipe for pumpernickel crackers, but I did have a recipe for pumpernickel grissini. It didn’t take much tweaking for me to convert the process to yield a proper canape base. Eaten alone, they had a pleasantly complex flavor, which blended seamlessly with the other components upon assembly.

Pumpernickel Crackers – adapted from Smitten Kitchen’s Pumpernickel Grissini (makes about 80 1.5″ crackers)

1/4 cup warm water
1 tsp active dry yeast
1/2 tsp molasses
1/2 tsp sugar
1/2 cup all purpose flour
3/8 cup rye flour
1 1/2 tsp dark cocoa powder
1 tsp caraway seeds
3/4 tsp fine salt
1 TBSP grapeseed oil

Whisk together water, yeast, molasses, and sugar. Let sponge for 15 minutes, then stir in the remaining ingredients. This will be a stiff mixture, but as you continue working it, it will come together into a smooth dough. Once your dough has come together, turn it out of the mixing bowl and knead it on a lightly floured surface for another 3-4 minutes.

Cover the dough with plastic wrap or a damp towel and let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 hour. When the dough is risen, divide it into two parts, leaving one part covered while you work with the other. Roll the dough on a lightly floured surface until it is 1/8″ – 1/16″ thick. Cut into 1.5″ squares and transfer to a lightly greased baking sheet, leaving 1/4″ between crackers. Repeat with the remaining dough. Cover the baking sheets and let the crackers rest for about 1/2 hour. Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 400 degrees.

Bake the trays for about 15 -20 minutes, until the crackers appear dry and puffy. If you’re worried about their doneness, pull one off of the baking tray, let it cool for 60 seconds and then test its snap. You want it to break cleanly, without any signs of a soft or moist center. If you aren’t happy with the consistency after they’ve cooled, you can always pop the trays back in the oven for a few more minutes. Sadly, I don’t have any secrets for rescuing burnt crackers, so do keep a close eye on them.

To assemble – pipe or spoon a teaspoon of horseradish cream onto each cracker, add a generous pinch of shaved roast beef, and top with a single micro green.

I highly recommend using any leftovers to build some French Dip sandwiches (even the bread here was leftover baguette from the Tomato Melts)

This one is all about that crispy wonton base. In my first winter resort kitchen, I would slide the triangles of wonton wrapper into the hot fryer oil and stand hypnotized, watching them curl and twist and bubble into unique shapes. Afterward, they became the accompaniment to a tuna poke salad. With its multiple tubs of neatly minced components it was one of my favorite items to prep, and the assembly of the dish – tossing the pink cubes of tuna with a dash of ponzu, a splash of lime juice, and a pinch of toasted sesame seeds – felt more like art than cooking.

That being said, I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m not the biggest fan of most seafood, particularly the raw fish versions. Do I occasionally feel like a culinary failure when I turn my nose up at exotic island dishes in favor of a basic garlic and lemon shrimp pasta? Yes. Yes I do. But sitting by the fireplace in small town Idaho in the middle of November, I figured that while sticking to shrimp for the seafood canape wasn’t going to make headlines, it wasn’t likely to make anyone sad, either.

I feel like I can struggle with my Asian flavors and techniques, since most of my formal education and experience has been much more French cooking forward. And even though I tested components as I went along, I felt like I had missed a trick when I tasted these as a final product. They were lacking a bit of the punchiness that you usually get when you load something up with ginger, garlic, lemongrass, cilantro, sesame, fish sauce, and more. For all the layers and components that went into them, I think they came out pleasant, but forgettable. So, if you’re looking to make something with splashy visuals and a retiring flavor profile, give these guys a go. Alternatively, amp up the aromatics and spices and you might end up creating something as addictive as a curly, crispy wonton.

Thai Pesto – adapted from With Two Spoons

4 cups basil leaves (I used half Thai basil, half regular)
3 garlic cloves
1 1/2 TBSP salted, roasted peanuts
2 TBSP sesame oil
1 TBSP brown sugar
1 TBSP rice vinegar
1 TBSP soy sauce
1 tsp red pepper flakes

Combine all ingredients in a food processor or blender and process until smooth, stopping to scrape down the sides as needed. If the ingredients aren’t coming together, add more oil, 1 tsp at a time, as needed. Taste for balance and adjust to your personal preference. Store in an airtight container to prevent oxidization. Pesto freezes beautifully, so I made this a month in advance and just let it thaw the day before I needed it.

Shrimp Salad – adapted from Platings + Pairings

2 cloves garlic
1 jalapeño, deseeded
juice of 2 limes
4 TBSP lemongrass paste (or minced fresh lemongrass, if you can find it)
1 TBSP brown sugar
2 shallots
1/4 cup fresh mint
1/4 cup fresh cilantro
2 TBSP vegetable oil
1 pound raw shrimp, shelled and deveined

Heat a large skillet over high heat until very hot, then add shrimp and vegetable oil. Stir constantly until shrimp are cooked through, then remove from heat and set aside to cool. Meanwhile, finely mince the garlic, jalapeño, shallots, mint, and cilantro. Combine the lime juice, lemongrass paste, and brown sugar in a medium bowl and add all your minced ingredients. Cut the cooled shrimp into small dice, then add to the bowl with your other ingredients. Toss until combined. Refrigerate overnight to allow the flavors a chance to meld, then taste for any needed adjustments.

Fried Wontons –

Cut 3″ square wonton wrappers in half along the diagonal to create triangular pieces. Heat vegetable oil or liquid shortening to 375 degrees using a deep fryer or large, heavy pot. Drop the wrappers into the oil, keeping a pair of tongs nearby to unfold the wontons as needed. At little bit of folding is fine, it will just provide some dramatic curves, but a complete doubling over is too much. You can have more than one in the oil at once, but you’ll want to drop the pieces in individually so that they don’t glom on to each other. Fry until golden brown and crispy, then drain on paper towels until cool.

To assemble –

Arrange your wonton chips in a single layer on your work surface. Using your finger tips or a small spoon, place a tablespoon of the shrimp salad on the widest part of each wonton. Place your pesto into a piping bag and pipe a small dot on the top of each heap of salad. Garnish with small sprigs of mint, basil, and cilantro.

Enter the appetizer brainstorming. Browsing through old restaurant photos, I was reminded of a ginger, pear, and goats cheese mixture that I had added brine to and called ‘pickled’. I had thought it delicious, but wasn’t necessarily sold on its final texture. And while this seemed like a good vegetarian option I didn’t want to serve just cheese on crackers, so I needed to find a way to separate the flavors back out into multiple components. Out of the three main ingredients, the pears seemed like the most natural stand alone, but much like bananas, apples, and avocados, pears are rarely seen on buffet tables, due to their tendencies to oxidize to an unappetizing shade of brown over time. Thinking of the old trick of dipping them in lemon juice to try to delay the process triggered the idea of just turning my pears into pickles. My only worry was that they might dissolve during the pickling process. I quickly searched the internet to see if anyone else had shared their experiences with the idea. I didn’t find a lot of recipes, but the two I did locate were reassuring. So I forged on, sketching a fluted rosemary cracker as a base, with a whipped goats cheese and ginger spread to go beneath the pears. I waffled on the garnish for quite a while, finally deciding to attempt some candied rosemary needles. Keep reading to see how that worked out….

Rosemary Sea Salt Crackers – adapted from Food 52

2 1/2 cups flour, plus more for rolling
1 tsp fine salt
3 TBSP neutral flavored oil (I’ve been using grapeseed oil these days)
1/2 cup cold water
2 TBSP minced fresh rosemary
large grain sea salt, to garnish

Heat oven to 425 and line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Mix together the flour, fine salt, and minced rosemary, then slowly stir in the oil and water until a rough dough forms. Use your hands to gently press the dough into a ball. If the dough seems too dry for this step, add another splash of water. Press the dough into a disc, then wrap and chill for 15 minutes. Working on a lightly floured surface, roll the dough as thinly as possible, ideally to 1/16″. Using a fluted 1 1/4″ round cutter, cut out as many crackers as possible. You can gather up the scraps and re-roll one more time, but after that it’s likely to be hard to work with and will yield tougher crackers. Sprinkle the top of each cracker with a pinch of large grain sea salt and bake for 8-10 minutes, until crisp and golden. Cool and store in an airtight container.

Gingered Goat Cheese –

12 oz fresh goat’s cheese
4-8 TBSP heavy whipping cream
2-4 TBSP fresh gingerroot, finely minced
pinch salt

This is more a method than a recipe and can be easily adjusted to suit the needs of your project and/or personal taste preferences. Whip the goat’s cheese, pinch of salt, and 4 TBSP of heavy cream with a whisk until soft and fluffy. If you would like a lighter end product, gradually add more cream, evaluating the texture as you go. Add the minced gingerrroot, again starting with the smaller quantity and increasing as needed. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for at least one day, to allow the flavors to meld together thoroughly. I find it to be a versatile addition to small bites, as you can see in the photo gallery of gingered goat cheese canape variants below. Click the individual images if you’re interested in learning more about their components!

Pickled Pears – adapted from Harry & David

4 firm and unbruised pears (I used Bartletts, slightly under-ripened pears will hold up better)
1 1/4 cups cider vinegar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 TBSP pickling spice (or make your own)
3/4 tsp each ground cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice

Combine remaining ingredients in a small pot and bring to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Set aside to cool to room temperature. Meanwhile, use a small melon baller (1/2″-5/8″) to cut the pears into demi-spheres and place into two pint jars. Divide the cooled pickling liquid between the two jars, ensuring that the pears are completely covered. Place in the fridge for at least two hours and up to one week. I found that the uppermost layer of pears did experience a bit of browning still, but on the whole they held up much better than I expected.

Candied Rosemary –

I’m actually not going to give you a recipe for this one, because I don’t think I’ve conquered it yet. I made my initial batch too far in advance and opened the container to see black needles on the day of the event, which led to some quick adjustments to plans. It’s possible that I messed up the recipe, or it might just be an item that needs to be done a la minute. Even the day of making them, I wasn’t thrilled with the result – it didn’t seem like the sugar coating went on evenly or stuck particularly well. In any case the final garnish ended up being some fresh sprigs that I tossed with sugar water and covered with granulated sugar. Not quite candied and not very durable, but it worked out this time.

To assemble –

Spread each cracker with a dab of gingery goats cheese, trying to leave about 1/16″ border of cracker edge bare. If you have a large piping tip, it might work here, but I was nervous that the ginger chunks would clog up any attempts at piping. Place a piece of pickled pear in the center of each cracker and gently press two rosemary needles into the pear in an x shape.

When it was time to serve up my appetizers, these were the ones I was most concerned about. Pickles can be alienating, goat cheese has been known to cause controversy, and rosemary isn’t a shy herb. Happily, my concerns were unfounded and the guests seemed to embrace my pickled pear experiment with enthusiasm. Would you have tried one?

Because of the complexity of flavors you get from a piece of high quality cheese, it’s something that I am always drawn to when putting together a canape. I’m not against mild flavors, but when you only have a square inch of food space to say everything you’re trying to say, flavors that pack an immediate punch are an easy fit. Nuts and fruit are natural things to include on a cheese tray, so I added candied walnuts and a fig jam to my plans. And since it all needed something to sit on, I decided to bake some vol au vent shells.

Once I had a general idea of what I was hoping to make, I began scavenging recipe outlines from internet sites and my cookbook stash. I found the fig jam to be too thick for my purposes as written and didn’t enjoy the depth of bitterness the added grapefruit zest added, so I upped the water and have edited out the zest for this version. If you enjoy a slightly more earthy/bitter flavor profile, feel free to add the fruit zest in along with the juice.

For the Fig and Port jam – based on a recipe from Chemist in the Kitchen

1 pound black mission figs
juice of 2 grapefruits
1/2 cup port wine
1/4 tsp salt
pinch black pepper
1 cup water

Place all ingredients in a small saucepan and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook for half an hour, until figs have softened and begun absorbing the liquid. Using a blender or food processor, blend the mixture until smooth, then pass through a sieve and return to the saucepan. Simmer for another 5-10 minutes, adjusting wine, water, and salt to taste. Cool and store in airtight jars.

For the Candied Walnut Halves – based on a recipe from The Splendid Table

75 walnut halves
1 cup powdered sugar
1 tsp salt
pinch of cayenne pepper

Mix sugar, salt, and pepper in a large, shallow bowl. Bring a medium sized pot of water to a rolling boil. Drop your walnut halves into the water for 20-30 seconds, drain off the water, and dump the hot nuts into your sugar mixture. Toss together until the sugar has melted down evenly onto the nuts. Spread in an even layer on a greased, or silicone baking mat lined cooking sheet. (I made an error in judgement and substituted parchment paper, which resulted in slightly scorched fingertips as the nuts had to be pulled off while hot to avoid them sticking to the paper. Not the recommended method.) Toast in a 350 degree oven until the nuts are toasted and the sugars darken and begin caramelizing. Mine cooked somewhat unevenly with the quickest needing only 20 minutes and the slow pokes taking nearer 40 minutes. Allow the nuts to cool and set before storing.

For the Vol au Vent shells –

Make or thaw a sheet of puff pastry (yes, I can make puff pastry, but it’s a space and time consuming operation and since I was short on both for this operation, I went with the prepackaged frozen variety.) Roll the sheet out gently to a large rectangle. Using a clean ruler, mark and cut 1.5″ squares. Then, leaving two opposite corners attached, use a paring knife to cut a second square a 1/4″ inside of the first. Using an egg whisked with 1 TBSP of cold water, brush each square lightly. Here is where any origami skills in your past will come in handy. Fold one fully cut outer corner to the opposite inner corner. Then fold that outer corner to the inner corner of the initial side. The two corners that were not folded and not fully cut through will create small loops as you do this. Gently press the new double layer of pastry together. You will have created a small square with a thin raised edge. Continue on until you have the number of canape shells you desire. If your pastry becomes too warm to work with just return it to the fridge for 20-30 minutes. Once all the shells are prepped, arrange them on a baking sheet about 1″ apart. Chill for 30 minutes, then bake at 425 degrees until light golden brown. Cool and store in an airtight container.

For assembly –

Dab a 1/2 teaspoon of fig jam into each pastry case, then drop in a small slice of cambozola or other full flavored soft blue cheese. Finally, press a walnut half into the cheese until it will stand upright on its own. And there you have it. A classic cheese board flavor combination, turned into a bite sized finger food.

In these smoked trout puffs, I combined a black pepper Parmesan gougere, a blackberry and pinot noir vinaigrette, flaked smoked trout, and thin sliced radishes. In my initial sketches, I envisioned glazing the tops with more dressing, or folding little radish roses for decor. But when it came to the actual assembly, I found the the shiny, crackled tops of the gougeres were the most appealing presentation. Here’s how I put them together.

Black Pepper Gougeres – adapted from The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook

6 TBSP butter
3/4 cup water
3/4 cup white wine
1 1/2 cups ap flour
1/2 tsp ground black pepper
3/4 tsp salt
6 oz finely grated Parmesan (preferably a black pepper coated variety)
6 large eggs

Bring the butter, water, and wine to a boil in a medium sized saucepan. Add the flour, pepper, and salt, stirring vigorously until the mixture forms a smooth ball and begins to leave a film on the pan’s surface. Let the mixture cool slightly, then stir in the grated cheese. Lightly beat the eggs in a separate bowl, then gradually add them to the flour mixture, beating constantly. (A stand mixer makes this step much simpler, but a hand mixer or just a wooden spoon will also get you there.) When your dough is smooth, glossy, and flexible enough to stretch between thumb and forefinger without breaking, it’s ready to go.

Using a piping bag fitted with a large plain tip, or a small portion scoop, place your batter in 1″ rounds on a parchment lined baking tray, leaving about an 1″ of space between the puffs. Sprinkle the tops with a pinch of pepper. Bake at 375 for 20-25 minutes, until light, golden, and dry. Remove the tray from the oven and flip the puffs over, puncturing the base of each with a small, thin knife. This will allow the hot air to vent out and keep the interior of your puffs from becoming doughy as they cool. Turn the oven off and return the tray of puffs to the oven to finish cooling.

Blackberry & Pinot Vinaigrette –

Did I remember to write down my recipe for this? No, no I did not. But here’s an approximation of my method, with some modifications based on what I would change next time I made it, and a reminder to taste as you go. Vinaigrettes are very amenable to being adjusted on the fly.

1 pound frozen blackberries
12 ounces pinot noir
1 cup neutral tasting oil (I used grapeseed oil)
salt and pepper to taste

Combine the blackberries and wine in a small saucepan and simmer over low heat for 20-30 minutes to melt the berries and cook off some (but not all) of the alcohol. Remove from heat and cool slightly, then use a blender or food processor to puree the mixture. Gradually add in the oil, mixing constantly. Add a pinch of salt and pepper. If the dressing seems too thick, you can adjust it by whisking in a bit of water. For this application, you want it to remain on the thick side so that it doesn’t run out of the puffs or soak in too quickly. If the dressing seems too acidic or wine-y, add a bit more oil. If it seems flat, add another pinch of salt and pepper. If it seems too oily, you can add a touch more wine, or a bit of red wine vinegar.

To assemble –

Slice a handful of multi-colored radishes paper thin. Flake 8 oz of smoked trout into small chunks. With a small knife, split the gougeres on one side, leaving the other side attached to act as a hinge. Spoon a 1/2 tsp of vinaigrette into each puff, then fan 3-4 thin slices of radish to hang slightly out over the front edge. Stuff the remaining space with smoked trout.

I can’t pick favorites among foods, I’m terrible at it. But these canapes have everything I want in an appetizer – zing from the radishes, bite from the wine, depth from the smoke, and addictive cheesiness in the puffs. Each of the flavors is bold on its own, but somehow they meld together to create a nuanced final product. If you aren’t up for the full project, the cheese puffs are a fun little snack on their own, no filling needed.

The base for this appetizer is Pain Rustique, or any similar loaf of flat artisan bread. Slice the bread into bite sized squares, between 1 and 1.5 inches on a side and arrange it in a single layer on a baking sheet. Drizzle the bread with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and bake at 400 degrees until it’s golden and toasty. This usually takes between 5 and 7 minutes.

The next layer is a combination of tomatoes and zucchini. Slice a zucchini lengthwise into planks about an 1/8 of an inch thick and grill them for 1-2 minutes on each side, until they have nice grill marks and begin to wilt down. Then dice them into 1/8 x 1/8 x 1/8 inch cubes (also known as a brunoise cut). Take a jar of sundried tomatoes preserved in olive oil¹ and brunoise them as well. Mix the tomatoes and zucchini in a 1:1 ratio. Place a teaspoon of this mixture on each bread square. They might look like they can hold more, but if you make your heaps too high they usually just end up falling off on the serving plate.

Next up is the fresh mozzarella. All you need to do here is cut the cheese into squares slightly smaller than your bread and place one slice of cheese on top of each pile of tomato mixture. Place the tray back into the oven until the cheese is melted and just starting to brown in spots.²

The first garnish for these is a drizzle of balsamic reduction. It’s become popular enough of late that you can find it in squeeze bottles in the vinegar aisle of grocery stores, but it’s also super simple to make at home. Just pour a generous amount of balsamic vinegar into a heavy-bottomed saucepan and cook it over low heat until it simmers down into a thick syrup. It should reduce to about 1/3 or 1/4 of its original volume. To test its readiness, dip a spoon in, pull it out and mark a line across the spoon. If line holds its shape, the reduction is ready. If the vinegar runs back together again, let it simmer longer. Using a spoon, piping bag, or small squeeze bottle, drizzle a few lines of the cooled vinegar reduction across the top of each canape.

Finally, chiffonade³ a few leaves of fresh basil and sprinkle them over the tray of canapes.

Viola! That’s all there is to it. Simple, tasty, and popular in every crowd I’ve ever been a part of.

Notes:

1. The original appetizer uses Divina roasted tomatoes, preserved in oil with garlic and basil. These were amazing and perfect for the dish, but I wasn’t able to source them locally in a small enough quantity to be practical for this event, so I used sun dried tomatoes in oil instead. Now that I’ve tried it, I can safely say that either way works, though the roasted tomatoes do lead to a brighter flavor in the end product.
2. There were no ovens available at the reception venue, so one of my helpers used a creme brulee torch. This was more time consuming and less effective than an oven, but it did work to help the cheese adhere better to the rest of the canape.
3. I love this French term so much that it was the name of my first blog! To achieve this cut, lay your basil leaves flat in a stack, and then roll them up around each other. Once you have a small cylinder of leaves, take a sharp knife and slice the roll as narrowly as possible. You’ll end up with long, thin ribbons of basil, perfect for that last fancy touch of green.

The Cookbook:

Textbooks can be a delicate subject to bring up with current college students, or even recent graduates. Some of them seem to cost their own weight in gold, and editions come and go so fast they’re tricky to resell once you’re done with them. Fortunately for me, many of my culinary course textbooks were also cookbooks, which I am happy to accumulate. This week’s book covers one of my favorite kitchen stations, Garde Manger. Otherwise known as the Pantry Station, the slangily abbreviated Garmos who work in this position are in charge of cold food presentation, as well as many of the fiddly little appetizers, pates, and preserved foods you encounter in the restaurant world.

I adore fiddly food, so this book and I are good friends, even if the passed appetizer cocktail party has mostly gone out of style except for special events. And I initially picked a food that I remembered fondly from school experiment days – mascarpone cheese. Which I dutifully made, took pictures of, and even served to other people at a game night party as part of a snack tray. But I found the recipe to be lacking in a few details, rushed the setting time, and otherwise ran into some snarls. I do plan to try cheese again soon (my little jar of tartaric acid is waiting in the cupboard), but I shifted gears for this post. Rather than taking a second run at soft cheese, I mixed up a wet rub Jamaican Jerk seasoning.

The Recipe:

Jamaican Jerk Marinade

1 yellow onion
1/2 cup green onion
4 tsp fresh thyme
4 tsp salt
2 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
2 tsp sugar
2 tsp ground black pepper
2 tsp ground Cayenne pepper
3 TBSP soy sauce
1 TBSP vegetable oil
1 TBSP rum

Using a blender or food processor, blend all ingredients together into a rough paste. Coat your protein of choice with the jerk mixture and marinate for at least an hour, preferably more (the original recipe recommends 24 hours). Barbecue or roast the meat until cooked to your preferred temperature. I used skin on, bone in chicken thighs and baked them for about 45 minutes at 400 degrees. Excess marinade can be stored in an airtight jar.

The Verdict:

Apart from me spending thirty minutes in the liquor store debating which bottle of island rum I wanted to bring home (the seal logo on the Bermuda won out in the end), this was a simple combine-and-blend recipe. I tacked the prep on to the end of my lunch making and let the chicken marinate until evening. Some leftover rice reheated in coconut milk, a handful of green beans thrown onto the sheet pan with the chicken, and hey, presto, dinner! The chicken turned out moist and well-seasoned, if not quite as vibrantly spiced as I had been expecting. My favorite part of this dish, though, was the quesadillas I made with the leftover jerk chicken the next night. They may not have looked terribly exotic, but Jamaican Jerk Quesadillas are an intriguing and simple weeknight dinner that I can get excited about.

Now that I’m on my own for making food choices, I’m still willing to “try at least one bite” of any food I come across, so their methods seem to have worked well. My openness towards most foods has only been exacerbated by time spent in kitchens with lots of overtime and little space for lunch breaks. During the busiest seasons it’s easy to get used to eating the imperfect remnants and less-than-stellar experiments because there’s no time to look for anything else.

Which is a rather wordy way to work up to excusing the fact that I have discovered that I am, in fact, quite picky about some things. I’m picky about carrot cake, and cream cheese frosting. I’m picky about tomato soup, and I’m picky about macaroni and cheese. But the only thing that really concerns this post is that I’m picky about banana bread.

I didn’t know I cared so strongly about it for years. I grew up making basic banana breads from my mother’s staple cookbooks and knew that I liked them. I usually threw nuts into half of the batter, for my father’s sake, and left the other half plain (my personal preference). The add-in nuts were always walnuts, the bread was always baked in loaf pans and very rarely lasted longer than a day. It took me a long time to learn that it’s often more aromatically in-your-face banana flavored on day two.

And then I discovered the internet, and thrift store cookbooks, and all the crazy, intricate things that people do to basic foods. It happens to everything, it seems, this dialing up of ingredients. I understand the urge, since I, too, like to push the envelope of flavor combinations, toppings, and mix-ins. But I’ve tried it with banana bread so many times that I’m willing to admit something. I don’t think the original can be improved.

At least ingredient wise. I’ve come across a few tips and techniques that make the basics shine to their fullest ability and I regularly put those into use. But chocolate chips and nuts and spices and bourbon and all their kin feel like gilding the lily on this one. I like my banana bread with sweet cream butter, white refined sugar, and vanilla. I’ve baked it in sheets, squares, muffins, and rounds and I am prepared to testify that it tastes better in the classic loaf form.

I felt guilty this afternoon, mixing up a plain Jane batch of a recipe I’ve made more times than I can count, so I threw a coconut streusel lid on it and tossed a touch of ginger and cinnamon into the mix. It is fall after all. The end result isn’t bad, in fact it’s quite tasty, but it isn’t an improvement over the basic recipe. So here’s the best recipe for banana bread that I have ever experimented with, in all its stubbornly perfect simplicity.

Banana Bread (from The Olives Dessert Table)

3 bananas – that hopefully look something like this

1 1/4 cups sugar
1/3 pound melted butter
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsps baking soda

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9 inch loaf pan.

Combine the bananas and sugar by beating at high speed for as long as your patience allows, somewhere between 3-10 minutes. Stir in the butter, eggs, and vanilla, then add in the flour, salt, and baking soda. Pour into the prepared loaf pan and bake until a toothpick poked into the center of the bread comes out clean (this takes about an hour in my oven). Cool in the pan for 15 minutes and then turn out. I find that the flavor deepens over time and think that banana bread tastes best cold, but that never stops me from eating the first half of the loaf while it’s still steaming on my cutting board.

If you still don’t believe me about the lack of need for a streusel, here’s the recipe for that little extra touch.

Oatmeal Crumble (adapted, loosely, from The Olives Dessert Table)

1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 stick softened butter
6 TBSP flour
pinch salt
1/2 cup sweetened coconut flakes
2/3 cup ground walnuts
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger

Rub all ingredients together until the mixture looks sandy and the butter is evenly distributed. Sprinkle thickly over the top of your banana bread just before baking. (This recipe was the perfect amount for a double recipe of bread, or two loaves. If you have extra, it’s a great fruit topping.)

The Cookbook:

Does anyone else find themselves buying random cookbooks while perusing thrift shops for Christmas gift opportunities? That’s how I added this week’s book and its sister volume to my shelf. A compilation published by the late Gourmet magazine, its full and official title is The Best of Gourmet 1988. The first half is given over to a combination of menu plans for unique events, like Pre-Theater Dinner or Luncheon Among the Violets, complete with lavish photo spreads. The second half is a typical cookbook, though the ingredients occasionally make me raise my eyebrows. And I got a good giggle out of the paragraphs on how they catered to ‘the trend toward healthful lighter eating’ by including extra pasta and grain recipes. How times, and diet advice, change!

The Recipe:

Greek-Style Pot Roast

1/2 cup flour
4 tsp dried oregano
3 tsp salt
2 tsp black pepper
5 lbs beef chuck steak
3 TBSP vegetable oil
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 cup beef broth
1 tsp garlic paste
1 tsp cornstarch
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1 1/2 cups orzo
1 TBSP fresh dill

Mix together the flour, oregano, salt, and pepper and use this mixture to liberally coat your steak. Heat the oil in a skillet over high heat. Once the pan is hot, sear both sides of the steak until a dark brown crust forms. Remove the steak from the skillet and place in a crock pot. Deglaze the skillet by pouring the red wine vinegar over it and stirring to loosen any stuck on bits. Scrape the contents of the skillet into the crock pot. Add the beef broth, garlic paste, and Worcestershire sauce, then cover and cook until tender, 3-4 hours. Remove the steak and set it aside. Transfer the broth to a pot, mixing 1 tsp of broth with the cornstarch and then adding it back in. Bring the broth to a boil and let thicken (I found the amount of cornstarch to sauce to be very far from my ideal sauce viscosity, so I used my leftover flour/seasoning mix to make it full on gravy. If you want to do the same, just slowly sprinkle about 1/4 cup of flour into the mixture while whisking vigorously.) Let the gravy continue to cook for several minutes after adding the last of the flour to cook the starch flavor out, then shut off the heat. When you’re ready to put the meal on the table, bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook the orzo for 8-10 minutes. Drain and toss with the fresh dill. Serve the meat and gravy over the pasta.

The Verdict:

Does adding oregano to a crock pot braised steak turn it Greek? I didn’t think that the criteria were quite that loose. The end results were perfectly satisfying and I quite enjoyed the light touch of dill in the orzo under the hearty steak and gravy topper, but Greek was not a descriptor that would have leaped to my mind if I had been assigned the naming of this recipe. On the other hand, in a cookbook that refers the user to specialty food shops for many ingredients that are now commonly seen in my neighborhood grocery stores, perhaps this combination did seem more exotic and boundary pushing. Final verdict? Tasty, but not unique enough to dig up the recipe again. 10/10 for cookbook photo elegance and overall browsability, though!

The Cookbook:

This week’s cookbook is simply titled Chocolate. Which made it a highly appealing volume when I was thirteen and spotted it on a bookstore shelf. It was chock full of pictures, exotic sounding desserts, and a couple of intriguing savory dishes. The difficulty ratings and time estimates listed with each recipe are probably one of the reasons my mother OK’ed it and for a few years it was a go-to when I wanted to make something interesting and exciting for company coming over or a potluck gathering. But I found over time that while the descriptions of the recipes were great, the final products had a tendency to be disappointing. “Dry”, “not much flavor”, and “OK, but not a favorite” are a few of the notes penciled in the margins. I cringe every time I page past the Devil’s Food Cake photo, with the palest of brown cakes sandwiched in white frosting, as if to highlight the lack of chocolate involved. I paged through the book a few times before I settled on this week’s test of choice, not noticing until I started taking process photos that I had chosen the cover recipe!

The Recipe:

Blackberry Chocolate Flan

Tart Crust:
2 cups flour
1/2 cup cocoa powder
1 cup powdered sugar
pinch salt
1 cup cold butter, grated
1 egg yolk

Combine the dry ingredients together, then mix in the butter and yolk until the dough is just combined. The original recipe calls for an hour of refrigeration, but I found the dough very hard and crumbly when fully chilled. Since it is a stiff mixture, I might try adding a bit more liquid, or working with the dough at a higher temperature if I use this pastry recipe again. Alternatively, use any sweet chocolate shortcrust pastry you’ve had success with in the past.

Once the dough is mixed, roll it into a thin sheet and line your tart pans. I used ten 4″ mini-tart dishes, and ended up patting the pastry in, rather than rolling it out. Bake the shells in a 350 oven for about 15 minutes, until they are firm and look dry. I used weights in half of my crusts and found I had more difficulty for no real difference in results. The unweighted crust kept its shape fine, while the weighted didn’t cook as evenly and I had issues with it sticking to the weights. Once your tart shells are cooked, set them aside to cool while you mix the filling.

Blackberry Ganache:
1 1/4 cups heavy cream
2/3 cup blackberry jelly
8 oz semi-sweet chocolate, finely chopped
1/4 cup butter

Warm the cream and jelly together on the stove, until the jelly is fully dissolved. If there’s anyone in your life who likes pink, call them over to admire the lovely pale shade of rose the cream takes on as the jelly incorporates. Pour the hot cream mixture over the chocolate and butter and whisk until fully combined. Divide the ganache equally among your tart shells and let cool. I cooled them down to room temperature and then popped them in the fridge to finish firming up.

Blackberry Syrup:
1 1/3 cups blackberries + more to garnish
1 TBSP lemon juice
2 TBSP sugar
2 TBSP creme de cassis

Super simple sauce recipe – throw everything in the blender and whiz it together until smooth. This makes a loose sauce which I thought worked well with the firm textured ganache, but if you’re looking to reduce the messiness a little, you could always simmer it down into a thicker syrup.

To serve the tarts, unmold them from the pans, pour some blackberry syrup over the top, and throw a few fresh blackberries over the whole affair.

The Verdict:

This was a fun recipe just because it provides the full set of dessert, sauce, and garnish, making it seem just that touch fancier. Blackberry and chocolate is a lovely combination and I got to use up some of the fresh blackberries that our garden is happily producing this month. I had difficulty working with the dough and a couple of my shells broke when I was unmolding them, but I can’t fault its flavor. My only real complaint is that the filling had a graininess to it that you don’t usually want in a ganache. I think this issue could probably be eliminated if I took the time to sieve the warm jelly mixture. We shared a couple of the tarts with my mother and she credits them with helping her recover from a bout of West Nile Virus, so Chocolate might get another shot at joining my more regular cookbook rota.