As a child, we spent Thanksgiving with my entire extended family. Every year, 14 to 16 of us would gather at my great aunt & uncle's house and indulge in an embarrassment of culinary riches. After a mid-evening stretch and in-depth comparison to last year's meal, my aunt would present the annual "Parade of Desserts". The "Parade" would include no fewer than 5 and sometimes up to 7 extraordinary items: pumpkin, pecan and apple crumb pies, chocolate torte, poached pears, cheese cake, bread pudding, sorbets and of course... homemade cookies, for when you just want a nosh.
For the past four years I have spent Thanksgiving with my husband's family. We are a much smaller crowd, 8 people tops, and although we love a good dessert, I have gone from a complete repertoire of Thanksgiving sweets to a sampling of one or two. It was through this dessert- downsizing however that I discovered the ultimate recipe: Pumpkin Pecan Pie.
Introduced to me by my friend Melissa Neild, this Thanksgiving treat combines the best of both desserts, the filling. Pumpkin brings spice and creaminess and the pecan top gives the pie a gooey, textured sweetness. The crust, a recipe from our family friend Shirley Shea, is both flakey and moist. It's so easy to make, you'll never buy the readymade crusts again.
PUMPKIN PECAN PIE
Serves 8-10pp
Ingredients
Pie Crust:
1 1/4 Cup all purpose unbleached flour
1/4 Cup vegetable oil
1 Tablespoon whole milk
Pumpkin Filling:
12 oz. pumpkin puree
2 eggs
1/3 cup light brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice (1/4 tsp. cinnamon, 1/4 tsp. nutmeg, 1/4 tsp. ground ginger, 1/4 tsp. ground cloves)
Pecan Filling:
1 Cup whole pecans
1/4 Cup brown rice syrup
1/4 cup barley malt syrup
1/4 cup dark brown sugar
3 Tablespoons melted butter
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon fresh lemon rind
1/4 teaspoon salt
Preparation
1. In a large mixing bowl, combine ingredients. Using your hands, combine well until granules form in mixture and it begins to crumble. Roll into a round disc. Chill in refrigerator for 30 minutes. Remove disc and roll the dough between two pieces of wax or parchment paper until the dough is about 13 inches round and 1/4 inch thick. Fit rolled dough into a 9 inch glass pie plate. Trim edge, leaving a 1/2 inch overhang. Fold and crimp overhang to create an even edge. Prick bottom and side of shell all over with a fork. Chill additional 30 minutes. While shell chills, place oven rack in center of oven and pre heat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Cover pie shell with aluminum foil and fill center with pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 20 minutes or until edges are golden brown. Remove foil & weights and continue to bake additional 5 minutes. Reduce temperature to 350 degrees and set pie shell aside to chill.
3. Using an electric mixer, combine all ingredients for pumpkin layer. Mix until smooth. Pour pumpkin mixture into empty pie shell and bake for 15 minutes.
4. In a large mixing bowl using a rubber spatula, combine all ingredients for pecan layer. Remove pie from oven and carefully spoon pecan mixture evenly on top. Bake pie an additional 35 minutes or until center is firm.
6. Serve pie at room temperature with whipped cream.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Growing Up in a Foodie's Kitchen...the Love Affair Begins
One of my earliest childhood memories is being in a kitchen...
I spent many Saturdays in my great aunt's kitchen "helping" the women in my family make dinner. When I was three I stood on Yurtle the Turtle, the furry turtle-shaped stepstool my great uncle had made me, in order to reach the counter. While the ladies chopped and sliced, sautéed and stewed, I made what would come to be known as my "famous" salad dressings. I would open up the refrigerator, the pantry and begin combining ingredients. I would experiment with all kinds of oils, vinegars, mustards, herbs and spices. When I was done I had created an emulsion of flavors... it was like magic.
I stood on Yurtle making my dressings and acting as the official "taster" I tasted EVERYTHING. Meatballs before they went into the pot (and before we there was mad cow), tomato sauce (so simple, sooo good), cookie dough (before it became an ice cream flavor) and cake batter. Blending sauces, roasting lamb, marinating chicken, baking meringues, the women and I would work and talk and talk and work... for hours, culminating into a meal that would awaken every sense and hit every taste bud.
When I was old enough to fly, I went to visit my grandma in Florida. My grandma Evie is from Hungary and loved to make me all of her childhood favorites. From the moment I walked in the door, the aroma of paprika, peppers and onions wafted in the air and my mouth began to water. Stuffed cabbage, Beef Goulash and my favorite, Chicken Paprikash with Spaetzle, Nukeli, in Hungarian. Every dish was served with Cucumber salad, a sweet and tangy delicacy of sliced cucumber, vinegar, sugar and dill. The cucumbers were the ideal compliment to these meals. The tanginess of the cucumbers cut through the heaviness of goulash and the creaminess in the Paprikash and eating them together created the perfect bite.
After each meal we would satisfy our sweet tooth with homemade Plachinta, Hungarian stuffed crepes. Sometimes grandma would fill the crepes with sautéed apples or pears. But my favorite was the traditional apricot stuffing. Made with warm apricot preserves, lemon zest and a little vanilla, we would fill the crepes, roll them and top them with powdered sugar. Each bite was absolute heaven. Which brings us to desserts...
When I was old enough to use the stove and oven, I graduated from salad dressings to desserts. Initially, my mom would help select a recipe and "oversee" me as I used the food processor or electric mixer. I began with the basics: rice pudding, apple pie, chocolate torte. Like a mad scientist I would combine multiple powders and liquids into a concoction that would somehow create a sweet treat. As I became more experienced, I became more creative and more elaborate with my desserts: multi layered cakes with ganache filling and butter cream frosting, pavlovas, profiteroles, crème caramel.
Not everything was a success. Many times I would "estimate" my ingredients resulting in a cake with a raw center or pastry dough that wouldn't rise. I've confused salt with sugar, big oops. I've added twice the amount of sugar than the recipe calls for, bad idea. And by the way, never add gelatin to chocolate mousse. With every mistake came a lesson, and the greatest lesson I ever learned was that I would never be a pastry chef. But was becoming a chef.
When my stepmother Jane entered my life in high school, cooking in our household changed. During the holidays, Jane would research recipes for weeks in advance, a trait that she passed on to me. Once the menu was created, the cooking began. Schedules were posted with tasks for each of us. From washing vegetables to setting the table, our NY apartment kitchen was magically converted into a professional workspace and our living room became a dining showpiece.
One of the biggest holidays in our family was Passover. Through Jane, I learned what it meant to create a "real" Passover Dinner. Unfortunately that also meant having a "real" Passover Sedar, something I was not accustomed to. Jane is the only woman under the age of 85 who still used a stewing fowl for matzo ball soup and made gefilte fish from scratch, freshly grated horseradish and all. Sure, it’s delicious, but try getting the smell of boiled whitefish out of your kitchen...
When my stepbrother Josh and I went to college, we would counter the empty nest syndrome by returning home for the holidays with extra "family", our friends. I now shared most of the cooking with Jane, acting as Sous Chef to her Executive. Together we menu planned, prepped and cooked...Ohhhh, the pot roast, one of her signatures, took an entire day. I experimented with recipes using seasonal vegetable and grains and making each dish my own. Jane, who unlike me was the most brilliant Pastry Chef, made even the most complicated desserts look easy. She also shared her recipe for meringue mushrooms, a family favorite.
When I got married, my husband Erik and I decided to host our first Passover, inviting family and close friends. Jane brought the fish, thank God, and when we set up to work she graciously accepted the role of Sous Chef to my Executive. In addition to the rest of the menu I contributed my own version of Pot Roast, a fusion of Jane's traditional recipe and Asian influences. It was delicious.
When we sat down to sedar, we had 15 guests, 5 courses,6 sides and 4 desserts ...my life's culinary journey culminated in a Passover Meal for my new husband, family and friends. As I looked over the table, decorated to perfection, and caught a wink from my Dad sitting across from me, I stopped and thought, what a long way I had come from my "Yurtle days." My life spent in the kitchen. Bonding with family, cooking, learning and loving every minute of it. "I could do this for a living" I used to say to myself. And now I do.
I spent many Saturdays in my great aunt's kitchen "helping" the women in my family make dinner. When I was three I stood on Yurtle the Turtle, the furry turtle-shaped stepstool my great uncle had made me, in order to reach the counter. While the ladies chopped and sliced, sautéed and stewed, I made what would come to be known as my "famous" salad dressings. I would open up the refrigerator, the pantry and begin combining ingredients. I would experiment with all kinds of oils, vinegars, mustards, herbs and spices. When I was done I had created an emulsion of flavors... it was like magic.
I stood on Yurtle making my dressings and acting as the official "taster" I tasted EVERYTHING. Meatballs before they went into the pot (and before we there was mad cow), tomato sauce (so simple, sooo good), cookie dough (before it became an ice cream flavor) and cake batter. Blending sauces, roasting lamb, marinating chicken, baking meringues, the women and I would work and talk and talk and work... for hours, culminating into a meal that would awaken every sense and hit every taste bud.
When I was old enough to fly, I went to visit my grandma in Florida. My grandma Evie is from Hungary and loved to make me all of her childhood favorites. From the moment I walked in the door, the aroma of paprika, peppers and onions wafted in the air and my mouth began to water. Stuffed cabbage, Beef Goulash and my favorite, Chicken Paprikash with Spaetzle, Nukeli, in Hungarian. Every dish was served with Cucumber salad, a sweet and tangy delicacy of sliced cucumber, vinegar, sugar and dill. The cucumbers were the ideal compliment to these meals. The tanginess of the cucumbers cut through the heaviness of goulash and the creaminess in the Paprikash and eating them together created the perfect bite.
After each meal we would satisfy our sweet tooth with homemade Plachinta, Hungarian stuffed crepes. Sometimes grandma would fill the crepes with sautéed apples or pears. But my favorite was the traditional apricot stuffing. Made with warm apricot preserves, lemon zest and a little vanilla, we would fill the crepes, roll them and top them with powdered sugar. Each bite was absolute heaven. Which brings us to desserts...
When I was old enough to use the stove and oven, I graduated from salad dressings to desserts. Initially, my mom would help select a recipe and "oversee" me as I used the food processor or electric mixer. I began with the basics: rice pudding, apple pie, chocolate torte. Like a mad scientist I would combine multiple powders and liquids into a concoction that would somehow create a sweet treat. As I became more experienced, I became more creative and more elaborate with my desserts: multi layered cakes with ganache filling and butter cream frosting, pavlovas, profiteroles, crème caramel.
Not everything was a success. Many times I would "estimate" my ingredients resulting in a cake with a raw center or pastry dough that wouldn't rise. I've confused salt with sugar, big oops. I've added twice the amount of sugar than the recipe calls for, bad idea. And by the way, never add gelatin to chocolate mousse. With every mistake came a lesson, and the greatest lesson I ever learned was that I would never be a pastry chef. But was becoming a chef.
When my stepmother Jane entered my life in high school, cooking in our household changed. During the holidays, Jane would research recipes for weeks in advance, a trait that she passed on to me. Once the menu was created, the cooking began. Schedules were posted with tasks for each of us. From washing vegetables to setting the table, our NY apartment kitchen was magically converted into a professional workspace and our living room became a dining showpiece.
One of the biggest holidays in our family was Passover. Through Jane, I learned what it meant to create a "real" Passover Dinner. Unfortunately that also meant having a "real" Passover Sedar, something I was not accustomed to. Jane is the only woman under the age of 85 who still used a stewing fowl for matzo ball soup and made gefilte fish from scratch, freshly grated horseradish and all. Sure, it’s delicious, but try getting the smell of boiled whitefish out of your kitchen...
When my stepbrother Josh and I went to college, we would counter the empty nest syndrome by returning home for the holidays with extra "family", our friends. I now shared most of the cooking with Jane, acting as Sous Chef to her Executive. Together we menu planned, prepped and cooked...Ohhhh, the pot roast, one of her signatures, took an entire day. I experimented with recipes using seasonal vegetable and grains and making each dish my own. Jane, who unlike me was the most brilliant Pastry Chef, made even the most complicated desserts look easy. She also shared her recipe for meringue mushrooms, a family favorite.
When I got married, my husband Erik and I decided to host our first Passover, inviting family and close friends. Jane brought the fish, thank God, and when we set up to work she graciously accepted the role of Sous Chef to my Executive. In addition to the rest of the menu I contributed my own version of Pot Roast, a fusion of Jane's traditional recipe and Asian influences. It was delicious.
When we sat down to sedar, we had 15 guests, 5 courses,6 sides and 4 desserts ...my life's culinary journey culminated in a Passover Meal for my new husband, family and friends. As I looked over the table, decorated to perfection, and caught a wink from my Dad sitting across from me, I stopped and thought, what a long way I had come from my "Yurtle days." My life spent in the kitchen. Bonding with family, cooking, learning and loving every minute of it. "I could do this for a living" I used to say to myself. And now I do.
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