Wheat-Free, Sugar-Free Vegan Carob Muffins

Note: these are tagged gluten-free but are not actually gluten-free, as they contain spelt. To make them gluten-free, substituting an equivalent amount of gluten-free all-purpose flour would likely suffice.

Don't you just loved fresh baked goods in the morning? Lately, every day's begun with the same protein smoothie, but today, my body hit a wall and demanded something more. It could be the tremendous amount of work I'm doing; last night I stayed up until one thirty working on an illustration for a magazine (!!) that I have to put the finishing touches on today. This morning, I woke up at eight to finish a paper and brainstorm ideas for my next 3D project (we're fusing organic forms with things traditionally worn on the head or neck, and we have to make it out of paper!). Plus, I have a giant, elaborate drawing to do and a short story to write -- all of which need to be finished by early next week! (Except the paper and the magazine drawing; those are due today.) I think muffins entered the scene because I either need the extra fuel, or I need the extra feeling of reward. Either way, I thought they were so worth it that forty minutes of my morning have already disappeared. Yikes!

So, I won't proceed with over-adulating descriptions of what they taste like or how to serve them because I really need to work! Plus, they're just carob muffins. They're high-fiber, and they're sweetened with stevia. There's not much more I can say. HOWEVER, I did design the recipe to be sort of single-serving - as in, it only makes four. If you want more, double or triple the recipe, but for me, four is plenty because I don't want to eat carob muffins clear through next week. (Of course I - or you - could always freeze any extras...) If you're a wizard in the kitchen, I think hiding nut butter in the middle of these - especially peanut or cashew-macademia butter - would be sublime. Anyway, give these a whirl one morning when you need that extra "oompf" in your gut to get you through the day.

WHEAT FREE, SUGAR FREE VEGAN CAROB MUFFINS
+ 1/2 c spelt
+ 1/4 c oat bran
+ 1/8 c carob powder
+ 1 1/2 t baking powder
+ 1/2 t powdered stevia*
+ dash of salt
+ 1 t vanilla
+ 3 T oil (coconut would be amazing!)
+ 1/2 c water

* If you want to use sugar, 1/4 - 1/3 c would probably suffice.

01. Preheat the oven to 350º. Throw the dry ingredients in a bowl, and give them a quick stir with a fork so they're evenly distributed and well combined.

02. Add the wet. Stir! Stir! (With your fork - to prevent lumps. Stop stirring when there are no lumps. Remember, spelt is a cousin of flour, so gluten can still form from over-stirring. These aren't light muffins by any stretch, so don't add to that with vigorous shoulder work.)

03. Grease up or line four of the cups in a muffin tin, then fill them three-quarters of the way full. Shove the muffin tin in the oven and wait 25 - 30 minutes before pulling the muffins, cooling them, and EATING THEM!!!

04. Yes, it's just that simple.



Again - this recipe makes four servings.

Tropical Gluten-Free Muffins

Believe it or not, I've actually been generating a lot of content for this here blog; I just haven't been posting it. Part of it is that, you know, I get ideas but I don't type them. Mostly, though, I've been developing TOP SECRET RECIPES that I think I'll put online and then decide I'd rather preserve for my zine. I know that I win World's Most Unreliable Blogger (what with promising you cookie recipes and then not updating for a month), but believe me, my little darlings, I have not forgotten you.

In fact, I've so far from forgotten you that I thought the best way to kick off the new year would be with a super healthy recipe. Year after year, the number one New Year's Resolution is "lose weight," but I prefer the more health conscious goal of "eat better, get fitter." After all, if you're eating properly and getting regular exercise, your body will naturally settle at a healthy, sustainable weight - no calorie counting required. So with that in mind, I decided to make some improvements in my own lifestyle: no more high-fructose corn syrup; no more hydrogenated oils; and no more artificial sweeteners. Right now, I'm also experimenting with completely wheat- and sugar-free cooking, and though it's only been maybe a week (I'm trying to make it at least month), I'm feeling pretty good. Some improvements I've noticed are my skin being a little clearer, my energy being a little more even, and my focus being a little better. This is all conducive to my ultimate 2010 goal: looking like Linda Hamilton a la Sara Conner in T2. Gotta have priorities, right?

So with these new(ish?) lifestyle efforts in mind, I conjured this recipe for gluten-free tropical bran muffins. I made some similar to these before I came back to school two weeks ago, and while those were just pineapple, they were amazing - amazing! Unfortunately, I didn't write down the recipe, and they were full of a little bit of sugar and a lot of wheat. Obviously, these babies have none of those things - just lots of good-for-you fats, fiber, and protein. They've got a little added sweetness from a scant half cup of maple syrup, but most of it comes from the tropical fruits, sweet flours, and coconut oil. These muffins get a nice, crisp exterior with a dense but fluffy interior. Plus, their tropical flavors warm your mouth on cool winter days, teasing you with daydreams of summer. Enjoy with some cold juice or an aromatic tea.


GLUTEN-FREE TROPICAL BRAN MUFFINS
+ 1 c oat bran
+ 1/2 c coconut flour
+ 1/4 c sorghum flour
+ 1/4 c brown rice flour
+ 1 tsp xantham or guar gum
+ 2 tsp baking powder
+ 1 tsp baking soda
+ salt
+ cinnamon
+ cardamom

+ 1/2 c coconut oil
+ 1 1/2 c "milk" or water
+ 1/2 c maple syrup or agave
+ 1 tsp vanilla

+ 1 - 1 1/2 c fresh or frozen tropical fruit

01. Preheat the oven to 350º, and sift together the dry ingredients (bran through cardamom). Sifting can produce a lighter, fluffier baked good, but it can also make the ingredients more evenly distributed, which yields more uniform and delicious baked goods. If you don't want folks fighting for the bigger muffin or biting into a nugget of baking soda, sift your ingredients.

02. Cut in the coconut oil with a fork until you have a bowl of crumbles, then add the rest of the wet ingredients. Stir until well combined. Your batter should look like a medium between cupcake and biscuit batter - maybe somewhere in the scone neighborhood but, you know, not like your typical muffin batter. Now, the cool thing about gluten-free baking is that you can stir and stir without much concern with how all that stirring will affect the texture. The fact is, it won't, really, because no gluten is forming! So add that fruit, then stir some more.

03. Grease or line a muffin tin, and then plop that batter in there. Feel free to fill the containers almost completely full because these babies don't get a lot of rise. Then throw them in the oven for twenty to twenty-five minutes, rotating them 180º halfway through the baking process. A fork or toothpick won't necessarily come out clean when these are ready, but the tops will look firm and maybe even a little brown on the edges. (Pull them before they get too brown!) Your oven will also RADIATE with the smell of these wonderful (and wonderfully healthy!) treats.

04. Let the muffins cool completely before enjoying. This is important because, while I'm with you on enjoying certain things all hot from the oven, these can still seem a little wet when they're fresh from the oven - kind of in the same way cookies are still all soft when you pull them. That cooling part's important. You can let them cool in their tray for five or ten minutes, then pop them out and transfer them to a cooling rack or even a plate. (Obviously, cooling rack gets preference.) Give them maybe a half hour, then grab some tea and a good book and dig in.



Makes twelve to fifteen muffins.

Going Sweet for Potatoes: Sweet Potato Pie

I think it's every food blogger (especially every vegan food blogger)'s duty to contribute something when a food-focused holiday is on the horizon. And while this year, the only physical contribution I'm making to my Thanksgiving table is a green bean casserole, I wanted to share something with a little more... bite, shall we say, here on xvx party. In the last two years, I've adopted two Thanksgiving staples: the stuffed tofu roast from La Dolce Vegan and an all-pumpkin offshoot of Fat-Free Vegan's double-layer cheesecake. (By the way, the soy-seitan turkey she mentions - also amazing.) Unfortunately, I have to give them the pass; there's not much demand for a tofu loaf where I'm spending Thanksgiving, and making a pumpkin cheesecake would totally step on my best friend's toes, whose very identity is rooted in her delicious (albeit non-vegan) pumpkin pie. Still, to me, Thanksgiving without a pie is like Christmas without a tree: it's not like it ruins the holiday or anything, but c'mon, that little absence of motif echoes. So when another friend announced she'd be rolling through town this weekend, I decided this was a resounding excuse for a proto-pie of the non-pumpkin variety appropriate for Thanksgiving. And what better pie to tackle than sweet potato pie.

Sweet potato pie was never a staple in my household, and certainly, it never made any Thanksgiving cameos. Sure, sweet potatoes appeared on my family's table in other ways: mashed, candied, casseroled - but never pied. The only time I recall even eating sweet potato pie is when I'd go over to this friend's house around Christmas time. Because at Christmas time, her grandma would send her family a giiiiiiiant box of single-serving sweet potato pies, and they'd have so many, they'd unload a bunch onto my family. I have very vivid memories of gorging on these things: popping them out of their little foil tins, then sinking my teeth into their waxy tops for a full-mouth experience that can only be classified as rich. I have no recipe that recalls this kind of pie - only a detailed memory of this luscious and flavorful treat that will probably outlive all my holiday memories combined - so you can imagine my hesitance at going vegan with it. Just because I've been hesitant to try doesn't mean I haven't wanted to, though.

Now, truth be told, I probably won't end up taking this to Thanksgiving, but I had more motiving this pie than just tradition. For starters, I wanted to make it soy-free - one, because the friend I was making it for is a little soy sensitive; and two, because sometimes omnis can detect the soy in creamy desserts like pumpkin pie so I needed a soy-free technique. Another thing I've been hankering to try is this new So Delicious coconut kefir that just came out. Hannah Kaminsky used it in a no-bake coconut cheesecake, and I thought, "Hmm, I bet the fat from those coconuts plus the tang of the probiotics would be the perfect foundation for a custard-y dessert." I also wanted to try coconut oil instead of shortening in a pie crust. And thus, my sweet potato pie concept was born.

I can't say this pie tastes like its inspiration. This pie is smooth and rich but in a completely different way than those pies of yore. In the future, I might increase the sweet potato to increase its potato punch and try to harness that authenticity, but for now, I think it's a damn good pie - even if it's not the pie I remember. Serve it with a little coconut whipped cream and some hot cider for a truly autumn treat.

SWEET POTATO PIE
+ 9" pie crust

+ 1 c raw cashews
+ 1/4 c maple syrup *
+ 1/2 c coconut kefir**
+ 15 oz sweet potato puree
+ 1 t vanilla
+ cinnamon
+ nutmeg
+ ginger


* I used this much kefir and syrup in the original, which was not very sweet. Some people liked it this way, but some did not. If I were going to make it again, I would probably try 1/4 c kefir and 1/2 c maple syrup. I only used so little syrup because I ran out! ha!
** You could also substitute any "milk," plus maybe a tablespoon or two of cornstarch.

01. Soak the cashews in just enough water to cover them, then let them stand for at least three hours (but preferably overnight). When they're finished, drain the water, and throw the cashews in a blender or food processor with the kefir and syrup. Puree until completely smooth. Add the sweet potato and spices and mix until completely incorporated.

02. Preheat the oven to 350º. Roll out your pie dough, then transfer it to your pie dish and make it all purdy. Pour your pie filling into the pie shell, and give it a good shake to smooth out ripples in the filling. Any marks you leave on the surface when putting the pie into the oven, are marks that will likely still be there when you take it out.

03. Let your pie bake for fifty to sixty minutes until the center is set. When you insert a toothpick, it should come out fairly clean - and if it doesn't, it's not set yet! Then take it out of the oven, and let it cool completely before putting it in the fridge to really firm up. Enjoy with your closest family and friends.





Speaking of food for the holidays...

xveganxparty from Ben Dudley on Vimeo.

Gingerbread: One Cookie, Two Ways

If you're trying to suggest that's a color theory exercise under there, you'd be correct. Check out my flickr if you're curious about what I do at art school all damn day.
We make it into houses, we make it into people, we make it into disagreements: ahhh, gingerbread, that classic cookie for chilly weather* that quickly polarizes people. Some folks swear by gingerbread; it's the taste of fir trees and snowmen and foil-wrapped packages bursting with bows. Just saying the word puts them in flannel pajamas in front of a fire with Nat Cole crooning on the stereo and a mug of hot chocolate in their hand. Other people detest it, though. It's spicy; it's overpowering; it tastes like the cardboard carrying a crate of cinnamon candles to a holiday shop, and it's got a texture to match. Few cookies get the mixed reviews of grins and grimaces the way gingerbread does, but a few simple adjustments is all these cookies need to find some common ground between the two camps.

I don't often make gingerbread - this time of year or otherwise. I'm a little more, "Gingerbread? Gross!" than I am, "Gingerbread? Great!" I think it's the way the molasses typically punctuates the spices. Together, they probably have some chemical interaction like wine and cheese that exaggerates the molasses and spice flavors, making them group-pop in a way I find distasteful. If I can especially taste the molasses, I just keep passing the cookie tray. But then, I came across an inspired idea: cocoa gingerbread cookies. I gasped. Pairing my favorite flavor with the flavors of my favorite season? Uhh, hello, sign me up! I quickly made an excuse to whip up a batch, and they were good in all the ways I imagined them to be. Yes, they were good - good but not great. These cookies were one ingredient away from absolute greatness. What these cookies really needed were some chocolate chips.

I wanted to make some improved chocolate gingerbread cookies ASAP, but when I had a no-chocolate friend coming into town, I was very torn. On the one hand, I really wanted to justify making these cookies again, but on the other, I couldn't bake something that excluded my friend. I felt silly making chocolate gingerbread cookies plus something else, so I groped for some middle ground. I got to stroking my invisible beard - made long, deep pulls at it because this was a quandry requiring some serious contemplation, and you could only grasp how serious by imagining some very dramatic beard tugging. Then it hit me: pumpkin gingerbread cookies. Yes, of course, pumpkin gingerbread cookies! - because pumpkin and ginger go well together in every other baked good on the planet (muffins, cakes, pies, scones...), and my roommate had half a can of pumpkin in the fridge that was going to waste! Plus, I had a bunch of raisins I wanted to use up, so pumpkin gingerbread cookies would sort of be a hero.

And, oh, heroes they were. In fact, having both cookies at once was the most delightful balance of treats - a balance made all the more delightful by an absence of molasses! The chocolate version is dark and decadent: a luscious combination of sugar and spice that makes them a maturely mysterious cookie. The other is light and aromatic: a classically earthy flavor without that classic "snap" of many brick-like gingerbread cookies. (Ever notice that? That gingerbread cookies make more of a "snap" when you eat them than ginger snaps, which are usually soft and chewy? Yeah, language is funny.) Outfitting them in chocolate and raisins is another pleasant update to this baking classic, but you could keep it old school by omitting the add ons and sticking with icing.** Whatever your opinion of gingerbread, these new approaches make for a whole new taste experience, so start heating your oven because you'll want to make these lickety-split.



Yep, breakfast of champions - complete with vegg nog in my favorite mug. If that mug's not a sweet use of split complements, I don't know what is.
CHOCOLATE GINGERBREAD COOKIES
+ 3/4 c flour
+ 1/4 c cocoa powder
+ 1/2 c brown sugar
+ 1/4 t baking soda
+ 1/4 t baking powder
+ 1 t ginger
+ 1/2 t cinnamon
+ 1/2 t nutmeg
+ 1/2 t allspice
+ 1/8 t cloves
+ salt
+ 1/4 c oil
+ 1 t vanilla or almond extract
+ 1/8 - 1/4 c water
+ chocolate chips (optional)


PUMPKIN GINGERBREAD COOKIES
+ 1 c flour
+ 1/2 c plus 2 T brown sugar
+ 1/4 t baking soda
+ 1/4 t baking powder
+ 1 t ginger
+ 1/2 t cinnamon
+ 1/2 t nutmeg
+ 1/2 t allspice
+ 1/8 t cloves
+ salt
+ 1/2 c pumpkin puree
+ 1/4 c oil
+ 1 t vanilla or almond extract
+ raisins (optional)


01. Sift together the dry ingredients. The measurements for the spices are just a jumping off point, but personally, I never measure. I just taste and adjust as necessary. If you're scared to trust your taste buds, err on the conservative side; it's better to have a borderline sugar cookie than a spice explosion only your waste basket wants to eat. And trust me, with some of these spices, it's real easy to go overboard real fast (especially with clove! that sneaky little sucker!).

02. Add in the wet ingredients and gently stir to combine. You should have a moist (but not wet or sticky) wad of cookie dough. Wrap it in plastic wrap and place it in the freezer for an hour or two.

03. Remove the dough from the freezer, and let it stand for a few minutes as it adjusts to the relative tropical wasteland of your kitchen. Set your oven to 350º, then lightly flour a flat surface. Roll your dough out until it's about a quarter inch thick, trying to maintain a rectangular shape because you'll maximize your dough's potential as a rectangle instead of a circle. Definitely shoot for a quarter inch here, though, because if you go much thinner, you'll wind up with really crispy dry-wall cookies, but if you go much thicker, your cookies will be more like cake, not cookies. A quarter of an inch is the magic measure here, folks! Then use your favorite cookie cutters to cut out amazing shapes. (Here is a pretty rad tutorial on making your own cookie cutters, but there's nothing wrong with defaulting into classic shapes like fetuses and charcoal grills. If you don't own any cookie cutters, just use a cup. PUNK AS FUCK!)

Pro Tip: Dipping your cookie cutters in flour periodically before pressing them into the dough makes a cleaner cut, which makes the cookies easier to remove and transfer to a tray.

04. Continue cutting cookie shapes, then re-rolling the dough and cutting more until there's nothing left to roll and cut. Carefully transfer your cookies to a lightly greased cookie sheet (use a spatula if you need some help), and take this opportunity to press on your add ons (raisins, chocolate, nuts, whatever). Then throw those cookies into the oven and bake for eight to ten minutes. Let them cool on the cookie sheet for about two minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack or plate and allow them to cool completely.

05. Enjoy with a mug of peppermint tea or vegg nog while breathing in the crisp autumn air.



Each recipe makes approximately twelve cookies.







* As an aside, I wanted to write "chili weather" because "chilly weather" = "chili weather," but I wasn't sure how many people would recognize that as a play on words and not a typo.
** Here, I am hinting at a play on words. Because gingerbread cookies are most often made into gingerbread men (and women! and inbetweens!), and what do you use the icing for? Duh, gingerbread outfits. Geez, I'm on a roll..! (Originally I typed "role." What up, homonym!)
*** While I've already got you down here reading asterisks about plays on words, I wanted to tell you about all the pop culture references I wanted to make with the title, like "One Flavor Enters, Two Cookies Leave" or "Two Cookies, One Flavor." Eh? Eh? CLASSY.

Pop-Tart-y Party

Wow, it feels like a long, hot minute since I've updated. It's not that I don't have material (heaps upon heaps of material...); it's just that I'm back at school. Though it was probably easy to infer, I never fully articulated that I took the summer off, but now that I'm back into the swing of Georgia things, life gets real busy real fast. Fear not, though, faithful readers, I will have a real update soon. In the mean time, I wanted to share with you a little something.

There are a lot of reasons why I write this blog, but the most fundamental is that I want people to challenge their daily routines. I don't expect everyone to be vegan or straight edge (or vegan straight edge!), but I want to share some of the reasons why I make these decisions (for indeed, staying committed to an xvx lifestyle is a daily decision), and I want to show people what I'm doing when I'm not eating animal products or rockin' a forty. It pleases me to no end when people contemplate these things after reading a post or two, and it especially pleases me to know they're experimenting with some of the ideas I've thrown out there.

One of my good friends in Denver (hi, Alex!) shot me an email to show me that she had a pop tart party. A pop tart party! I think this is a pretty fabulous way to spend an afternoon. If I remember correctly, everyone brought an ingredient and assembled their own little pastry. (Even if I don't remember correctly, I think this is a good idea.) The pictures are pretty fabulous because they show a variety of approaches to the recipe I posted - not only in ingredients but also in, uh, shape.




Obviously, this wasn't a huge event or a late night fiesta, but people are having some serious fun...



Actually, this girl doesn't look like she's having too much fun... YET. Duh, the party's about to start in her mouth! (Never judge a party by its appearance.)



I don't know about you, but I'm just floored by this enthusiasm. Seriously, is there any better testimonial than these ladies flashin' their pearls? They don't even care that, that one pan looks like Wicked Witch leftovers! Because it's a common fact the content on xvx party leads to Good Times, period. So if you've ever thought about trying something - a recipe, a game, a party, ANYTHING - don't hesitate to let me know about it. In fact, I'm putting my email in the side bar so you can do exactly that...

A special thanks to Alex and her goof ball gang for the awesome pictures. In the mean time, keep your eyes peeled for something juicy to sink your teeth into.

Daring Baker's Challenge: Dobos Torte

For better or for worse, this is my last Daring Baker's challenge - actually, probably for better considering how I struggle with these write ups. I always want something quippy, something epic, you know? But there's nothing epic about this. And there's nothing epic about my photos for these things, either, which in my head are going to look like these Bon Appetit spreads - you know, perfect composition and delicate details and all that - but which actually come out more like family photos where the cap barely came off the camera lens. Fantastic, fantastic! So as much as I enjoy introducing my oven to awesome new delicacies each month, I feel a little "Good bye, good riddance!" about this. Cutting back on the sugar kind of helps, too.

The August 2009 Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Angela of A Spoonful of Sugar and Lorraine of Not Quite Nigella. They chose the spectacular Dobos Torte based on a recipe from Rick Rodgers' cookbook Kaffeehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Caffés of Vienna, Budapest, and Prague.

Now, I have to say, there was one epic thing about this challenge that makes me pretty excited to talk about it, and that's the cake recipe I engineered. Traditionally, a Dobos Torte is, as Angela describes it, "whisper-thin layers of sponge, a decadent chocolate buttercream and crisp wedges of caramel on top." It's a pretty straight forward challenge because caramel and buttercream are total non-issues, and while sponge cake is one of those holy grails of veganism (you know, because it's sponginess comes from fluffy egg whites whipped into submission), it's easy to substitute some generic cake for the sponge cake. I, of course, could not do that. There's many recipes floating around the vegaverse that claim to produce vegan sponge cake; some of them even hail from vegan greats (who I won't name but I'm sure you know who I'm talking about). I've tried a handful of them including the ones offered by the vegan greats, and truth be told, none of them have done it for me. At best, they've been fluffier offshoots of everyday cakes, and at worst, they've been awkwardly textured compromises. I became a Daring Baker so I could dare myself to try some of the impossibles, and oh, this was a good challenge to tackle. And I think I tackled it quite well.

The recipe could use a tweak or two, but check out that picture above the recipe: it's easily good enough to share. It's a naturally fluffy cake base, but the secret to its success is soda water. The soda water makes little bubbles in the batter just like a sponge cake, so it stays really light and air-y. Not to sound like an asshole, but I gave myself a big pat on the back for this one. A BIG pat on the back. And now I want everyone to use it and experiment with it and make it even better.

But before we get to the recipe, I'm going to give a quick description of my torte: it was lemon sponge cakelayered between strawberry-rose buttercream with a generous white chocolate buttercream overcoat (homemade white chocolate using BitterSweet's tasty recipe). I opted out of the caramel because I hate caramel. Ha. And while my cake looked like a toppled tombstone with clown-colored ribbons running through it (in my defense, all my cake decorating supplies are in Georgia), it tasted awesome. AWESOME. I would definitely recommend this flavor combination. Okay, now here's something to bake:


XVEGANX SPONGE CAKE
+ 1 1/4 flour
+ 2 t baking powder
+ 1/2 c confectioner's sugar
+ 1/2 c agave
+ 1/2 c soymilk
+ 2 T Earth Balance
+ 1/2 t vanilla
+ 3/4 c club soda

01. Preheat your oven to 350º. Sift together the flour, baking powder, and confectioner's sugar. Set aside. In a microwave-safe bowl, combine the agave, soymilk, Earth Balance, and vanilla. Pop it in the microwave for a minute or two to melt down the Earth Balance, and then stir those hot liquids into your dry ingredients until just combined. Gently add the club soda, mixing carefully so the mixture incorporates but the bubbles remain intact.

02. Generously - GENEROUSLY - grease up a jelly-roll pan or a regular baking sheet. (I think mine was 11x17, but it couldn't hold all my batter.) Place your cake in the oven and bake for fifteen to twenty minutes. You'll know it's done when the cakes starts pulling away from the sides of the pan and the top sort of springs back when you touch it. Be really careful about this because, if you touch too hard, you'll put a big ol' dent in your cake, and if it's not finished, you'll leave a thumb print. Remember that the cake will solidify as it cools, though.

03. Make sure the cake is completely and totally cooled before removing it. In fact, letting it hang in the fridge for a while is not a half-bad idea. When I was ready to take my cake out, I put a layer of cling rap over the top, then gentlygentlegently flipped it onto my counter. I have no idea what a good technique would be otherwise, though if you have a cutting board or something that's about the same size as your jelly roll pan, I'd say use that. Then use the cake as you see fit.




p.s. Diet, Desserts, and Dogs is having yet another tasty giveaway - this time for Simply Bars. The contest ends September 7, so hurry to get an entry in for some of these nutritiously delicious (and super high protein!) treats.

Pop! Goes my Tart

For the record, I drink a smoothie almost every day. Half the time, they're green!

Remember when I said that I haven't been cooking much lately? Well, that hasn't been COMPLETELY true... I mean, sure, occasionally I've been dressing my pasta up with sauce from my stove instead of my cupboard, but that's not what I'm talking about. What I'm talking about is the occasional episode of culinary relevance that has been taking place in my kitchen and that I've been hiding from you. The occasional episode that yields... oh, I don't know... homemade pop tarts?

Now, you may not know this, but vegan pop tarts exist. Yes, Kellog's Pop Tarts offer a handful of frosting-less flavors that have so many chemicals, there's nary any room for an animal product to sneak in! There's also the frosting-less Nature's Path "toaster pastries" with that deliciously whole foods taste and that dismally whole foods price. Amy's makes a frosting-less "toaster pop" that she hides in the frozen food aisle and tastes like the whole foods offspring of Pop Tarts and Toaster Strudels. Not that I've ever been the biggest pop tarts fan, but I've always suspected that there's a way to make something that tastes better than the Kellog's version, is cheaper than the Nature's Path version, and embodies the pop tarts experience better than the Amy's version - and that comes with vegan frosting! (We all know frosting was half the reason we ever ate pop tarts.) So after a smidgen of research, I've discovered there is a way, and it's exquisitely simple. Behold: a vegan pop tart recipe.

I think I could design a special crust for this, but I will show you what I did this time around. It's interesting because baking is largely science; it requires some pretty meticulous measuring to be successful. However, this recipe is so intuitive and hodge podge that it's perfect for even the most anti-baking all stars:


HOMEMADE POP TARTS
+ pie dough
+ some sort of filling (I used raspberry jelly and chocolate ganache)
+ soymilk
+ powdered sugar
+ flavor extract (optional)
+ food coloring (optional)
+ sprinkles (optional)

01. Preheat the oven at 400º. Remove your pie dough from the fridge, and form it into a log. Roll it about 1/8 of an inch thin, then carefully cut long rectangles of matching size from the dough. I made mine about 8" x 3", but you can make your pop tarts whatever length and width you want. Hey, you could even use cookie cutters to make perfectly sized pop tarts in special shapes. Just make sure you pick a really big cookie cutter!

02. Put a dollop of filling into half of your pop tart, then smear it around. It should look like generously jellied toast: a thick smear but not totally caked on. If you're having trouble picturing this, just picture how much filling you find in a store-bought pop tart, and try to channel that. I used maybe one and a half tablespoons of filling, but your amount will vary depending on the size and shape of your pop tart. The most important thing to remember, though, is that there needs to be about a 1/4" border of crust surrounding your filling.

03. Fill a small cup or bowl with some soymilk - maybe about 1/4" cup - and, using your finger or a pastry brush, lightly coat those naked crust edges with it. Then fold the empty crust half over the full crust half, being sure not to trap any air. Gently press the edges to create a seal (pro tip: crimping the edges with a fork gives it a nice visual effect, and it makes a strong seal), and lightly brush the top of your pop tart with more soymilk. Use a fork to puncture steam holes in the top layer of crust, being careful not to push the fork into the second layer. This part is very important because, if you don't, you will discover the way I did that the crust puffs up quite a bit and looks most un-pop-tart like. Lame. So poke steam holes! Then transfer your tasty treats to a greased baking sheet, and pop those suckers in the oven for 18 - 20 minutes.

04. In the mean time, you'll want to make your frosting. Okay, I wish I had some measurements for you, but I never follow a recipe for frosting. Actually, that's not completely true either: when I make sugar cookies around the holidays, I am a meticulous froster, and the texture and consistency is very important to me. So when that's the case, I use a recipe like this one, but most of the time, I just mix powdered sugar, vanilla, and soymilk until I get a thick paste. Start with a big heap of powdered sugar and slowly add soymilk a half teaspoon or so at a time, and you'll see what I'm talking about. It's not rocket science, and I doubt you're really trying to impress anyone with pop tarts. (Although if you are, I'm kind of impressed, and you should tell me about it in the comments.)

05. Pull the pop tarts from the oven, and let them cool completely. If they're not cooled completely, you'll wind up with a crazy icing mess, and that's not cool. Course, when they ARE cooled completely, you can have a gay ol' time making frosting drizzles or sugar oceans or whatever floats your boat. For really fancy pop tarts, throw on some sprinkles or sugar crystals just after frosting them. (And I mean JUST after. That frosting sets fast!) Let the frosting set a little, and then dig in with your best friend.

Daring Bakers Challenge: Bakewell Tart

I'm not sure why I put this off for so long. It's not like I didn't enjoy this challenge. In fact, I had never heard of a bakewell tart before, and even though it's a bit of a to-do to put together, it is so. effing. good Seriously. How did I go on so long in ignorance of its deliciousness - nay, of its existence?! But then, mine didn't turn out nearly as picturesque as everyone else's. (Recurring theme..?) And there was no fanfare about making it. In fact, the day I put it together, I napped a lot, then prepared to go camping. I shared it with a few friends at about midnight. We played with cats. Pretty exciting, huh? So I think the biggest reason I put this off was feeling like I had nothing to write, when writing about it.

WELL SO WHAT?!?!

The June Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart... er... pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800's in England.

The recipe is as follows, but a few notes from me before we get into that: I don't think I ground my almonds fine enough because my frangipan was rich and lumpy rather than light and smooth like everyone else's. I didn't fret about that too much since it was sooo tasty (and reminded me a lot of what I'm sure is frangipan's cousin marzipan...), but, you know, word to the wise. As for my filling, I wanted to make this with raspberry preserves because those are my favorite, but then I realized that I've been combining chocolate and raspberries for alllll of my challenges so far. (Though last time it was a fluke; my roommate was supposed to get me strawberries at the store, but she bought the wrong ones, so I went with raspberries instead.) At the last minute, I went with chocolate and apricot, and believe me, that was a GOOD move. First I boiled some dried apricots in just enough water to cover them. In the last few minutes of boiling, I added some sugar and continued until most of the water was absorbed. Then I pureed the apricots in a blender and spread the mixture across the crust. After that, I made a ganache - just melted chocolate chips and soymilk - and spread that over the apricots. Holy crap. So good. I'm not sure of the measurements because I was doing it on the fly, but as a technique, it's something to consider and worth experimenting with flavor-wise. For the crust, I got to try a technique from my new Martha book! It wasn't BEAUTIFUL but I think it was good for a first try. With some practice, I will master crust braiding. Okay, okay, so the recipe...


BAKEWELL TART
Makes one 23cm (9” tart)
Prep time: less than 10 minutes (plus time for the individual elements)
Resting time: 15 minutes
Baking time: 30 minutes
Equipment needed: 23cm (9”) tart pan or pie tin (preferably with ridged edges), rolling pin

One quantity sweet shortcrust pastry (recipe follows)
Bench flour
250ml (1cup (8 US fl. oz)) jam or curd, warmed for spreadability
One quantity frangipane (recipe follows)
One handful blanched, flaked almonds

Assembling the tart
Place the chilled dough disc on a lightly floured surface. If it's overly cold, you will need to let it become acclimatised for about 15 minutes before you roll it out. Flour the rolling pin and roll the pastry to 5mm (1/4”) thickness, by rolling in one direction only (start from the centre and roll away from you), and turning the disc a quarter turn after each roll. When the pastry is to the desired size and thickness, transfer it to the tart pan, press in and trim the excess dough. Patch any holes, fissures or tears with trimmed bits. Chill in the freezer for 15 minutes.

Preheat oven to 200C/400F.

Remove shell from freezer, spread as even a layer as you can of jam onto the pastry base. Top with frangipane, spreading to cover the entire surface of the tart. Smooth the top and pop into the oven for 30 minutes. Five minutes before the tart is done, the top will be poofy and brownish. Remove from oven and strew flaked almonds on top and return to the heat for the last five minutes of baking.

The finished tart will have a golden crust and the frangipane will be tanned, poofy and a bit spongy-looking. Remove from the oven and cool on the counter. Serve warm, with crème fraîche, whipped cream or custard sauce if you wish.

When you slice into the tart, the almond paste will be firm, but slightly squidgy and the crust should be crisp but not tough.

Jasmine’s notes:
• If you cannot have nuts, you can try substituting Victoria sponge for the frangipane. It's a pretty popular popular cake, so you shouldn't have any troubles finding one in one of your cookbooks or through a Google search. That said, our dear Natalie at Gluten a Go Go has sourced some recipes and linked to them in the related alt.db thread.
• You can use whichever jam you wish, but if you choose something with a lot of seeds, such as raspberry or blackberry, you should sieve them out.
• The jam quantity can be anywhere from 60ml (1/4 cup) to 250ml (1cup), depending upon how “damp” and strongly flavoured your preserves are. I made it with the lesser quantity of home made strawberry jam, while Annemarie made it with the greater quantity of cherry jam; we both had fabulous results. If in doubt, just split the difference and spread 150ml (2/3cup) on the crust.
Annemarie’s notes:
• The excess shortcrust can be rolled out and cut into cookie-shapes (heck, it’s pretty darned close to a shortbread dough).
Sweet shortcrust pastry



Prep time: 15-20 minutes
Resting time: 30 minutes (minimum)
Equipment needed: bowls, box grater, cling film

225g (8oz) all purpose flour
30g (1oz) sugar
2.5ml (½ tsp) salt
110g (4oz) unsalted butter, cold (frozen is better) (sub Earth Balance)
2 (2) egg yolks (omitted)
2.5ml (½ tsp) almond extract (optional)
15-30ml (1-2 Tbsp) cold water

Sift together flour, sugar and salt. Grate butter into the flour mixture, using the large hole-side of a box grater. Using your finger tips only, and working very quickly, rub the fat into the flour until the mixture resembles bread crumbs. Set aside.

Lightly beat the egg yolks with the almond extract (if using) and quickly mix into the flour mixture. Keep mixing while dribbling in the water, only adding enough to form a cohesive and slightly sticky dough.

Form the dough into a disc, wrap in cling and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes

Jasmine’s notes:
• I make this using vanilla salt and vanilla sugar.
• If you wish, you can substitute the seeds of one vanilla bean, one teaspoon of vanilla paste or one teaspoon of vanilla extract for the almond extract
Frangipane




Prep time: 10-15 minutes
Equipment needed: bowls, hand mixer, rubber spatula

125g (4.5oz) unsalted butter, softened (sub Earth Balance)
125g (4.5oz) icing sugar
3 (3) eggs (sub pureed silken tofu and corn starch)*
2.5ml (½ tsp) almond extract
125g (4.5oz) ground almonds
30g (1oz) all purpose flour

Cream butter and sugar together for about a minute or until the mixture is primrose in colour and very fluffy. Scrape down the side of the bowl and add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. The batter may appear to curdle. In the words of Douglas Adams: Don’t panic. Really. It’ll be fine. After all three are in, pour in the almond extract and mix for about another 30 seconds and scrape down the sides again. With the beaters on, spoon in the ground nuts and the flour. Mix well. The mixture will be soft, keep its slightly curdled look (mostly from the almonds) and retain its pallid yellow colour.

Annemarie’s notes:
• Add another five minutes or more if you're grinding your own almonds or if you're mixing by hand (Heaven help you).



Make this! Make this! You won't be disappointed! Also, is it just me, or have my pictures gotten significantly disappointing since art school? How ironic is that?

* Other vegan DBers did this, and it worked out splendidly and quite picturesque. I think I just fudged on the measurements because I was lazzzzzy, ha.

Chocolate Cake of Wonder and Excitement

I haven't had time to sit down and post a real update, but I really wanted to get this cake recipe up before it was irrelevant. (Wait, can cake ever be irrelevant..?)

Unless you've been sitting under a rock all week, you know that Sunday was Father's Day. My dad is pre-diabetic, so if/when I make him treats, they have to stay low-glycemic. Cue: THIS AMAZING CHOCOLATE CAKE! This thing is both gluten- and sugar-free, but it's so rich and flavorful, nobody cares. My secret is almond meal. Almond pairs well with chocolate, making the cake's flavor bolder, deeper, and the fat from the almonds help give the cake some body. I made a single-layer nine-inch round (topped with Ricki's delicious sweet potato frosting), and between my dad, my grandpa, my sister, a family friend, and me - the cake didn't last even twenty-four hours. It was gone so fast, I almost didn't get a chance to snap a picture.


CHOCOLATE CAKE OF WONDER AND EXCITEMENT
+ 1 c water
+ 1/3 c oil
+ 2/3 c agave nectar
+ 2 t vanilla
+ 2 T flax meal
+ 1/2 c cocoa powder
+ 1/2 c brown rice flour
+ 1/4 c quinoa flour
+ 1/3 c almonds
+ 1 t baking powder
+ 1/2 t baking soda
+ salt

01. Preheat your oven to 350˚. In a mixing bowl, combine the water, oil, agave, and vanilla. Stir vigorously until well-combined. Add the flax. If you don't have flax meal (and it's preferable that you don't, really, because flax's nutritional profile is stronger when you start from seeds and turn them to meal) - if you don't have flax meal, take two tablespoons of flax seeds and grind them into a fine powder with your coffee grinder/blender. Then add the cocoa powder, brown rice flour, and quinoa flour.

02. Using your blender/food processor, grind up the almonds much like the flax seeds until you get a fine meal. If you have pre-ground almond meal, that would likely work, but doing it this way gave me a personal sense of satisfaction and also let me nibble the occasional little almond bit in my cake. Plus, I suspect the almond flavor is stronger this way since it's fresh; it hasn't been sitting in a bag all ground up and losing its zeal, y'know?

03. Add the almond meal to the rest of your baking concoction along with the baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Then blend blend blend! Since there's no gluten in the flour, you can blend to your heart's content! - and likely should: no one wants a hidden lump of baking soda in their cake, and I didn't tell you to sift that shit.

04. Grease up a cake pan. (Again, I used a nine-inch round.) Pour in your batter. As an aside, most gluten-free batters are really thick and maintain whatever shape they were poured as, but this batter is syrupy and forgiving like normal cake batter - another reason this cake is AWESOME. Anyway, pop that sucker in the oven for twenty to thirty minutes - essentially, until you can insert a toothpick and it comes out clean. Then remove it from the oven, let it cool, and frost it. (Don't forget about another low-GI frosting option brought to you by xvx party: coconut whipped cream.) Dig in with your favorite family members.






This cake does not serve that many people because it's too good to share. But theoretically, um, maybe it serves eight.


Oh, and as long as we're talking about a Diet, Desserts, and Dogs recipe, there's another My Sweet Freedom give away! Check out the awesome blog Musings from the Fishbowl for your chance to win.

An Italian Stallion in the Kitchen

There are certain ingredients I almost always have on hand - stuff like carrots and celery, soy sauce and olive oil. I keep a pretty generic inventory, but when it comes down to the real STAPLES of my cooking, the food and flavors that take priority, there's definitely an Italian slant. A good cook would probably die without the holy trinity, the foundations of so many cuisines, the carrots, celery, and onion that make mirepoix. I, on the other hand, feel forlorn when I open my vegetable crisper, and I can't find mushrooms, spinach, peas, and (okay, sometimes) artichoke hearts. I always have cans of crushed tomatoes in my cupboard ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. What, you need some marinara? How about just a generic tomato base for that rice? And the cornerstones of my spice rack - the grandfathers for all my seasonings - are easily basil and oregano (which don't belong together in marinara unless you're using it for pizza, BY THE WAY).

I'm from an Italian household and grew up on Italian cooking. (With a name like Micco, would you have ever guessed otherwise?) For Italians, food and family go hand in hand. My dad taught me the marinara that his mother taught him, which her mother (in law) taught her, and so on. Some kids brought PB&Js or Lunchables to school, but my lunchbox came with tupperware containers of leftover lasagna or subs filled with meatballs my dad and I made together. One of the first things I learned to make was fettucini alfredo, and how much garlic was too much garlic, was an issue of constant debate in my household. When I went vegan four years ago, my dad felt thrown for a loop. Coming from a culture covered in cheese with bits of meat floating around in it, this way of eating was completely foreign to him. It wasn't such a big deal as a vegetarian, but a vegan? I kid you not: he was worried he'd have to write me out of Christmas dinner.

My dad's correct, in that a lot of what's hit my plate in recent years is totally different from what I grew up on. (I mean, did I really used to eat beef tacquitos...?) I think it's funny when people ask what vegans eat because, after going vegan, I think I've tried more foods from more countries with more exotic ingredients than most omnis. Still, as my palate has expanded and matured, I've always come back to my roots. The recipes have changed a little, but the food hasn't (I now have vegan versions of most of my great grandma's Christmas cookies!), and it's been kind of special teaching my family new takes on the things they've taught me.

One thing we ate a lot in my family was stuffed peppers. The filling formula was basically: grain + veggie + sauce + cheese +/- meat. Now currently, I'm trying to make up for a lot of the bad eating I did at school - save some calories, up the quality, you know - and I thought, Why not update those peppers to reflect that? The flavors in this are very generic Italian, but to appease my current eating goals, I substituted mashed cauliflower for the grain and mixed it with vegan yogurt for a rich but healthy meal. I think it packs a lot of flavor for how spare it is on the calories (probably around 200 per pepper), and it's a nutrition powerhouse that will leave you quite satiated. Serve it with a side of green beans in light olive oil with minced garlic and maybe some crusty ciabatta, for a truly Italian feast.



STUFF-YOU-FULL-O-GOODNESS STUFFED PEPPERS
+ 2 bell peppers
+ 1/2 head cauliflower
+ 3 - 4 mushrooms, finely diced
+ 1/3 c frozen spinach
+ 3 - 4 frozen artichoke hearts
+ 1/4 c plain vegan yogurt*
+ 1/4 c nutritional yeast
+ 1 - 2 T white wine
+ garlic powder (or 1 clove of fresh garlic, minced)
+ dried Italian herbs (dealer's choice)
+ white pepper
+ salt

01. Preheat the oven to 375˚. Cut the tops off the peppers and scrape out those insides. Lightly oil a baking dish (I used a loaf pan since there were only two) and the sides of the peppers, then place them in the dish, and pop them in the oven for fifteen minutes. (Note: some people put the tops back on their peppers and cook them that way, but you can also chop the tops up and use them for salads or stir-fries later. OR roast them with your peppers, but then save them for tapenade - or maybe a Mediterranean influenced sandwich or pizza? Yum.)

02. While your peppers roast, set a pot of water to boil for your cauliflower. Break down your cauliflower half into its little florets, and steam them until super soft. Of course, if you're like me and without a steamer at the moment, you can just boil them mushy and then drain the excess water, but steaming is better because it maintains more nutrients.

03. Transfer your cooked cauliflower to a bowl, and use a sturdy fork to mash it up. You don't want a texture quit as smooth as mashed potatoes (pre-liquid, of course) but it shouldn't look like renegade floret crumbles, either. This dish is meant to be creamy, but the cauliflower is subbing for grain here, so it should be at least slightly toothsome. Then add your yogurt, nutritional yeast, wine, and seasonings (to taste). If you're using garlic powder, this is when you add it, too.

04. Back on the stove, heat up a skillet with some oil over medium heat, and saute your mushrooms. Toss in your spinach and artichokes, and continue cooking until the mushrooms and spinach darken and the artichokes begin to soften. Use your spatula to separate the leaves a little; no one wants to eat a pepper stuffed with nothing but chunky bits of whatnot, but there needs to be a variety of textures and flavors. Then transfer your veggies to your cauliflower bowl, and give it some quick stirs to incorporate all the ingredients.

05. At this point, your peppers should be finished with their first round in the oven, so start filling them. Fill them as high as you want. Fill them until they're practically overflowing. (If you're really daring, save a little room a crumb-coat topping, and put it on half way through the peppers' baking.) Add a little bit of water to the bottom of your baking dish - just enough so the peppers' little butts don't dry out or cook funny (maybe a quarter of an inch). Then return the peppers to the oven, and cook them for an additional thirty minutes. Let them cool, then stuff yourself. (Ooooh, I'm so witty...!)





This makes two peppers, which I guess could be split four ways, but these are so good, who would want to?

* This is roughly the amount that I used, but my filling turned out a little dryer than some might prefer. However, I'm really trying to make up for my bad eating, so I'm trimming calories where I can, and, well, vegan yogurt has a lot of calories. At this amount, I'd say these peppers "taste like health food" (sort of) but increase it a little and they'll border on decadent. It's your call. To spare even more calories, substitute marinara.

Books with Biscotti

Yesterday, I went to my local library's annual book sale. Embarrassingly, I'd never gone before because I'd always figured, some libraries ain't no Barnes and Noble, so if THEY don't want the books anymore, the books can't be all that great. Thankfully, I've matured enough to appreciate being from a city with one of the best libraries in the country. Being the best means constantly having to update and rotate inventory, so I wasn't walking into a refuse pile, I was walking into a GOLDMINE! I was worried that, being the second-to-last day of their week-long sale, all the good books would be gone, but it was half price day, I didn't have any fancy plans, no harm in taking a peek.

Well, I made out like a bandit. I got all of this for under fifteen dollars:

+ Elizabeth Wurtzel, Bitch: In Praise of Difficult Women (self explanatory)
+ Caroline Knapp, Appetites: Why Women Want (anorexia memoir)
+ Tim & Phyllis MikWright, Hey, Girl! (vintage photos; funny captions)
+ Marjane Satrapi, Chicken with Plums (one of my minors is sequential art)
+ Alex & Hilary Heminway, Picnics (xvxparty research)
+ Martha Stewart, Pies and Tarts (BIBLE!)
+ Bon Appetit, Christmas Season (confession: I love Christmas)*
+ My Drinking Life (audio book; alcohol memoir; referenced in current reading: Love on the Rocks)
+ About Schmidt (DVD; Jack Nicholson struggling with aging... again; great scene with Kathy Bates in a hot tub)
+ Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys (DVD; catholic school, sequential art, coming of age, tigers)
+ Art School Confidential (DVD; too true art school parody with John Malkovich)
+ TOP SECRET DVD FOR FRIEND!!!!

I spent yesterday afternoon sitting in my pile of fresh acquisitions flitting from book to book and flurrying through pages. I'm especially stoked on my two new cookbooks because, while neither has a single vegan recipe to boast, I think omni cookbooks are just as valid references. Usually, I get flavor combination ideas or tips on assembling stuff from them. I mean, the next pie I make is going to look sick as hell thanks to that corporate-climbing craftster Martha. And hey, my Bon Appetit book inspired me to make cinnamon biscotti with carob ganache.

Cinnamon and carob both have a sweet but earthy quality to them, so I thought they'd make a perfect pair. Plus, I ate a carob-coated rice cream sandwich at the conclusion of finals, which reminded me that carob is awesome and I need to employ it more. For the biscotti, I essentially used the Veganomicon recipe (no vegan biscotti recipe even compares), but for the ganache, I decided to try something I'd just noticed on my cocoa container. Did you know that you can substitute three tablespoons cocoa plus a tablespoon of oil for each ounce of melted chocolate a recipe calls for? HOW HAVE I BEEN LIVING IN THE DARK ON THIS??! It was with this in mind that I attempted my frosting, and oh, my success was sweet:


CINNAMON BISCOTTI WITH CAROB GANACHE
+ 2 T flax seeds
+ 1/3 c non-dairy milk
+ 3/4 c sugar
+ 1/2 c oil
+ 1 t vanilla
+ 1 2/3 c flour
+ 2 T cornstarch
+ 2 t baking powder
+ 1 1/2 t cinnamon
+ 1/2 t salt

+ 1 T Earth Balance
+ 3 T carob
+ 1/2 - 1 T sugar
+ 1/4 - 1/2 c non-dairy milk or creamer

01. Preheat your oven to 350˚. Using a blender or coffee grinder, grind your flaxseeds into a fine powder. Transfer your flax to a bowl, and add the "milk." Whisk vigorously until a creamy paste forms (about thirty seconds). (Note: if you used a blender, just leave the flax in there, add the "milk, and blend. The paste will be harder to remove, but it will be REALLY paste-y and make you feel like you didn't get the blender dirty in vain.) Then add your sugar, oil, and vanilla.

02. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt. Just toss 'em all in there, and stir a few times with a fork. If you've been following this blog, you'll know that this is an important step in evenly distributing flavor and "activating agents," ensuring all your little biscotti get created equal. Slowly add these dry ingredients to your wet ingredients, stirring as you add, and continue stirring until you get a sort of firm, uniform dough.

03. Grease up a baking sheet, and form the dough into a long rectangle - about 12" x 4". I find a few quick, gentle rolls with a rolling pin helps get my biscotti even, but the more you make biscotti, the more you'll develop your own methodology for gettin' 'em purdy. Then pop those suckers in the oven, and bake for twenty-eight minutes. (Yeah, twenty-eight.)

04. When the biscotti are done, remove them from the oven, and let them stand for a minute. Now, here's where I diverge from the Veganomicon recipe. In the V-con recipe (and most biscotti recipes in general), it instructs you to let the biscotti cool completely before cutting them, but I always - ALWAYS - break a bunch of cookies and make a huge mess that way. Instead, I let them cool so they're not hot to the touch (three or five minutes), and then I get a long, heavy-duty, all-purpose kitchen knife (a chef's knife or a big santoku is good) and make quick, even cuts about a half-inch apart from one another down my biscotti log. So essentially, I cut the cookies right then and there, but I'm taking advantage of their softened state. The motion of the knife is really important: the cookies are still soft from the oven, so if you saw them, they'll crumble and break. However, a quick, slicing motion produces clean edges and even cookies; as long as your knife's sharp and your cut's even, there should be no broken, crumble-y cookies but instead beautiful, picturesque ones. Then I let the cookies cool, which takes about half an hour.

05. When you come back to the kitchen, turn your oven up to 375˚. Flip each biscotti on its side, then pop them back in the oven to bake for another twelve to fifteen minutes. After you've made biscotti a few times, you'll get a really good feel for how long they need to be in the oven the second time to achieve your desired crispness. Let the biscotti cool before tackling your ganache.

06. Now, the ganache: put a small sauce pan on medium heat, and throw in all your ingredients. The EB will take a second to melt, but start whisking immediately anyway because you need that carob and sugar properly dissolved in your "milk." (Pro tip: I always use vanilla soymilk when making ganache because it adds depth to the flavor. If you don't have any vanilla "milk," just add a splash of vanilla extract.) Once everything is incorporated, raise the temperature a little until the mixture comes to a boil, then remove it from the heat. Act fast and dip each cooled biscotti in the ganache mixture (or spoon ganache over the top or whatever). The ganache needs to stay fairly warm so it'll set and look all glossy and uniform on your cookies. If it cools too much, it will look grain-y and uneven. Also, supposing you want to do something fancy like dip the tip of your biscotti in ganache rather than the top or you want fancy little ganache drizzles or something - put your biscotti on some wax parchment paper. It makes clean-up easy, and you don't have to worry about your biscotti sticking as the ganache sets. When everything is said and done, grab a cookie, sit back, relax, and enjoy. Might I recommend some good reading and a cup of Early Grey? Early Grey is sort of spicy-sweet and earthy like these biscotti, so it really complements them.




This recipe makes around eighteen delicious little cookie monsters.

* Is it just me, or do I reveal more weird quirks and interests every time I update?

Daring Bakers Challenge: Strudel

The May Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Linda of make life sweeter! and Courtney of Coco Cooks. They chose Apple Strudel from the recipe book Kaffeehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Cafés of Vienna, Budapest and Prague by Rick Rodgers.

Frankly, I was a bit intimidated by this month's challenge. I mean, strudel dough: it has to be dime thin, and one wrong stretch can leave you with bland cardboard instead of flaky, fluffy goodness. On the plus side, it's incredibly cheap to make (only five ingredients, two of which are water and salt), and it's incredibly versatile. If my reach exceeded my grasp on this one, I could always go back to the drawing board - er, kitchen - and try, try, try again until the cows came home to marvel at my vegan diligence. Cheap and versatile it may be, however, the fact remains that strudel dough is delicate and therefore temperamental. It's one of those jewels every baker wants in their crown but only a few can get. Thus, this challenge loomed over me like a storm cloud pregnant with hesitance.

This month, I've been juggling eight million things, and to be honest, I wasn't keen on this challenge being one of them. Any other month and I think I would have delighted in the possibilities, especially the thought of pairing both a sweet and savory strudel together in one meal. What would they be, I wondered. Maybe tofutti, onions, mushroom, and "sausage" in a smattering of herbs? Followed by apricots infused with amaretto and engulfed in chocolate? Perhaps one strudel would be like a pot pie and the other would be like a shortcake. After all, there is something daring about taking conventional baked goods and abandoning their baking conventions. Oh, but I had finals to consider, and moving decisions to make, and my cat hasn't been getting along with his roommates, and this was going on and I had that problem to tend to and on and on and on! If one of my roommate hadn't had her birthday this month, I'm not sure if I would have even bothered participating. In fact, the night I made it, the real joy of the experience wasn't making the strudel itself so much as avoiding school work.

... at least, that's how I felt at first.

The cubicle I call my kitchen was a rubiks cube of activity. My roommates and I were in a late-night study frenzy, executing some strange choreography of bows and leaps in as we reached for snacks and shoved between plates. Generally, I like to bake in relative solitude; I like a calm ambiance punctuated by a little Tom Waits where no one can see me licking the spatula after every stir or pretending to be a drunk cowboy during "Goin' Out West." Instead, I embraced the chaos. It was my first real break from hours in my room relating to a giant blue baby I was painting and old Sabrina the Teenage Witch episodes. I needed to talk to anything that talked back more than I needed to get this challenge done.

But then the flour went in, and the vinegar went in... the water, the oil, the salt... At first, I had a lot of complaints about the dough because it seemed too tough, too dry, too - I couldn't even say, it just seemed WRONG. Giving up wasn't an option, though, because it meant saying good bye to the roommates and going back to the drawing board (this time, I mean that literally). So I just kept stirring and kneading, stirring and kneading, fingers crossed that something was going to come of this. Apparently, something was because lo and behold, I looked down to discover my mixing bowl had birthed this milky-yellow orb that caught the light like marble. Shocking. It felt as creamy as it looked, all putty and no stick, and I was a little confused when it had stopped being a flour-y mess and started being, well, dough. For an instant, I felt very proud, but I couldn't get ahead of myself because, hell, any asshole can make dough, and that wasn't the part I really feared for. What I really feared was the rolling part.

But as it turns out, that wasn't so bad, either. I watched some youtube instructional videos (including some in Italian! which I sort of speak!) that let me roll with confidence. My dough turned out so silky and soft that it was really easy to manipulate, and getting it to the tissue-paper thin stage became like a game. Pull a little, a little more, no, no, too much, okay, pull... ahhhh. I don't know why I took such satisfaction in it, but I did.

When it came time to fill it, my heart sank a little. In fact, I was so disappointed that I carelessly threw in some raspberries (only frozen fruit on hand) and chocolate chips, rolled the thing, made a circle sort of shape, and threw the thing in the oven. Never mind that I should have put some sugar in with the raspberries, maybe made a ganache-y filling instead of just tossing in chocolate. Heavens forbid, I forgot to glaze my dough, too! Normally, flavor and presentation are my favorite parts about desserts - like, the assembly just comes with the territory - but this time, it wasn't on my radar. The dough was such an interesting experience and I was in such a rush that, that was enough to satiate any lingering creative urges I needed to express via baking. And I abandoned the project.

Serving the strudel was unceremonious. When it came out of the oven, I tossed the pan at my roommate with an offhanded something like, "Happy birthday, slugger!" Then I went straight to bed. Straight, straight to bed. But in hindsight, the whole thing makes me kind of giddy - because hey! I can make STRUDEL. And when I'm ready to embrace the possibilities implied by STRUDEL, I'll be able to walk that road. Oh yes, I'll be able to walk that road...

What would you put in your strudel?


Uhm, can you sense my roommate's enthusiasm? YEAH. STRUDEL.

STRUDEL DOUGH
from “Kaffeehaus – Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Cafés of Vienna, Budapest and Prague” by Rick Rodgers

+ 1 1/3 cups (200 g) unbleached flour
+ 1/8 teaspoon salt
+ 7 tablespoons (105 ml) water, plus more if needed
+ 2 tablespoons (30 ml) vegetable oil, plus additional for coating the dough
+ 1/2 teaspoon cider vinegar

01. Combine the flour and salt in a stand-mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix the water, oil and vinegar in a measuring cup. Add the water/oil mixture to the flour with the mixer on low speed. You will get a soft dough. Make sure it is not too dry, add a little more water if necessary.
Take the dough out of the mixer. Change to the dough hook. Put the dough ball back in the mixer. Let the dough knead on medium until you get a soft dough ball with a somewhat rough surface.

02. Take the dough out of the mixer and continue kneading by hand on an unfloured work surface. Knead for about 2 minutes. Pick up the dough and throw it down hard onto your working surface occasionally.
Shape the dough into a ball and transfer it to a plate. Oil the top of the dough ball lightly. Cover the ball tightly with plastic wrap. Allow to stand for 30-90 minutes (longer is better).

03. It would be best if you have a work area that you can walk around on all sides like a 36 inch (90 cm) round table or a work surface of 23 x 38 inches (60 x 100 cm). Cover your working area with table cloth, dust it with flour and rub it into the fabric. Put your dough ball in the middle and roll it out as much as you can.
Pick the dough up by holding it by an edge. This way the weight of the dough and gravity can help stretching it as it hangs. Using the back of your hands to gently stretch and pull the dough. You can use your forearms to support it.

04. The dough will become too large to hold. Put it on your work surface. Leave the thicker edge of the dough to hang over the edge of the table. Place your hands underneath the dough and stretch and pull the dough thinner using the backs of your hands. Stretch and pull the dough until it's about 2 feet (60 cm) wide and 3 feet (90 cm) long, it will be tissue-thin by this time. Cut away the thick dough around the edges with scissors. The dough is now ready to be filled.

Daring Bakers Challenge: Three-Layer Cheesecake with Rich Chocolate Ganache

The April 2009 challenge is hosted by Jenny from Jenny Bakes. She has chosen Abbey's Infamous Cheesecake as the challenge.

It's funny that this month's challenge was a cheesecake because, after that visit to Rosetta's Kitchen where I did NOT take my friend's advice to get the cheesecake, I had definitely been craving some. I brainstormed for a few days deciding where to go with the recipe since I could pretty much do anything as long as it somehow resembled a cheesecake. I've seen some creative spins on this classic dessert, so I was a little overwhelmed by my prospects. Because I super el oh vee ee food pairing, though, I decided to do layers of chocolate, almond, and raspberry - which isn't the most interesting take on the dish, yes, but I think it reflected a certain amount of ambition.

Oh, but sometimes such ambition is such a mistake. In my head, you'd slice into the cake and see six perfect little ribbons in bold colors against this dark, luscious ganache. The cake would have these great accents like crazy chocolate shapes sticking out every which way and maybe white chocolate ganache stripes or real raspberries crowning each slice. I wanted this to be some ape shit vegan baking extravaganza because THAT'S HOW I ROLL, but instead, I made this ugly little thing posing as a cheesecake. My layers marbelized because it was too short to sustain even three layers, much less six, and I used Earth Balance cream cheese for the first time only to discover that it's not worth using. Naturally, my solution to such disappointment was to eat the entire thing in, like, a day even though it was completely underwhelming.

My kitchen shortcomings haunted me. How I wanted to create a cheesecake that was worth presenting to the world! So about two weeks later, against my better judgement, I decided to revisit the challenge. Now, it should have been a sign that making a second cheesecake was a bad idea when the grocery store was out of Mori-Nu silken tofu. I mean, everyone knows you only bake with Mori-Nu silken tofu (for whatever reason, it produces a better texture and little to no tofu taste), but I am hard headed. I bought the water-packed silken tofu along with everything else (in triplicate!) determined to get this thing right.

While the results were an improvement, they were still unremarkable. I had learned from my first cake: I reeled in my ambition and settled for three layers instead of six, and to prevent a Napolean complex, I tripled my recipe so each layer was essentially its own cheesecake. I even enlisted the help of a flat spat to smooth out my layers, and I used Tofutti instead of Earth Balance to enhance the flavor. Still, each level of flavor was uneven, and everything tasted... like tofu. Deliciously sweet... tofu. It was neither a baked beauty nor a culinary feast, so when I got to the decorating part, my wallet and my ego were in too much pain to continue.

I put half of the cheesecake in the freezer right away to prevent a repeat of the first one (course, it still only lasted me a week... ha), but hey, that ganache sure was good!


ALSO - blogspot still won't let me comment on other blogs?!? so I wanted to throw a shout out to Laura for having ridiculously cute and imaginative vegan cheesecakelettes.

The Lemon Blueberry Extravaganza!!!

I was supposed to see Kingdom play today, but I couldn't. I've been internet buds with the lead singer Davin for... four years now? but we still have yet to meet. I've said that I'd be at 563489797 of their shows (with treats!), but every time - EVERY TIME - something comes up. Like last month, Kingdom was playing my hometown; and I arranged a place for them to stay and everything, but instead of seeing them play I... moved to Georgia. Yeah, it's absurd shit like that, that keeps me from going. This week, my grandma died.

Now, there's nothing like a death to throw off your week. I had to scramble like a mad woman to get all of my school work done so I could pay my respects. We're talking three days of no sleep that included my seven-hour drive and her Catholic funeral service. "Exhausting" would be an understatement. Then I made the seven-hour drive back to Georgia, which made my neck and back cramp so bad, I arrived in Savannah with my first migraine(!) ready to throw up. I rested a few hours, then started baking in preparation for the show, but the thought of spending another eight hours in the car straight up killed me. I still haven't fully processed what this event (my grandma's passing) means to me; my back and neck are still in pain; and when I sat down to be a responsible adult today (i.e. bill pay, budget, etc), the gas money wasn't in my finances. So I didn't go, and I was stuck with all these rolls. (Campus security guards sure were well-fed today...)

Every time I miss a show, I think I have a very good excuse, but I had sworn - vehemently sworn - I would definitely be there this time. I was very much looking forward to it, in fact! Alas, a flakey-mcflakester again. To make up for my absence, I decided to make them a pretty low-tech tutorial on how to make the dessert I engineered for them. It's at the end of the post.

Before getting to that, though, I wanted to give an update on my goal progress. Even though my eating habits and activity levels have improved, I haven't stuck to my plan perfectly. However, I am temporarily abandoning it for reasons I hope to reveal in about a month. I don't mean to sound cryptic, but it won't make sense until I can elaborate on it... in about a month (if what I'm doing is successful, that is).


Definitely read the instructions, too. They're more precise and accurate. Also, for the record, I don't have a lisp. It's something about how my camera picks up sound.

I-SHOULD-HAVE-BEEN-AT-KINGDOM ROLLS
+ 3/4 c soymilk
+ 1/4 c Earth Balance
+ 1 lemon (just the zest)*
+ 3 1/4 c flour
+ 1 package instant yeast
+ 1/4 c sugar
+ 1/4 c plus 2 T water
+ 2 T cornstarch
+ salt

+ 1/2 c Earth Balance (ROOM TEMPERATURE)
+ 1 - 1 1/2 c frozen blueberries
+ 1/2 c sugar

01. Pour the soymilk into a small saucepan, and bring it to a rolling boil over medium-high heat. Immediately remove the soymilk from the burner (if you don't, it will scald, and that's bad), and add the Earth Balance. Stir it around a little bit so it melts, and then set aside.

02. In a mixing bowl, combine 2 1/4 cup of flour with the lemon zest, yeast, sugar, and salt. Add the soymilk/EB mixture, making sure it's still warm as this is what activates the yeast. Then add the water and cornstarch, and stir until the mixture is just combined. Add another 1/2 cup of flour, stir to combine, and repeat with the final 1/2 cup. Then gently knead the dough for about five minutes. All the ingredients should be well-combined, with a texture that's soft but stretchy with a very smooth quality. Drape your mixing bowl with a damp cloth, and set it aside to rise for ten minutes. It's not going to rise noticeably, but it will rise.

03. When you come back, roll your dough out into a really nice rectangle, roughly 12" x 9". Try as best you can to maintain that rectangle shape because it will make it easier when you make it into a log. Spread the Earth Balance from corner to corner like you're spreading it across a piece of toast, and then sprinkle on your blueberries and sugar.** Gently roll the dough into that log shape as tight as you can get it, being careful not to let any blueberries escape, making a clean seam, and pinching the ends shut. Using your best all-purpose knife, slice up the roll in clean, quick slices. (In the video, I say the slices should be about a half-inch thick, but it's probably more like an inch.) Arrange your rolls in a greased up pan, like a lasagna dish or cake pan. Make sure you leave some space between each roll, as they're going to rise more and will need that space. Then drape them with a wet cloth again, and set them aside someplace warm (but not hot) to rise some more for about thirty minutes.

04. At some point during that thirty minutes, turn your oven to 375˚. When the rolls have finished rising (they should be about doubled in size; if they didn't double, it means you didn't activate your yeast properly, but it's not a big deal. Your rolls won't be quite as fluffy as you might hope/expect, but you can go ahead and bake them anyway), pop them in the oven for twenty minutes. Then remove from the oven, let cool, and enjoy.


* One of my roommates complained that these weren't lemon-y enough. I thought the flavor was fine, especially with how the blueberries made them pop, but to each their own. Here are two ways to deal with this: (1) going in, if you know you want a profound lemon flavor, use the zest of two lemons instead of one; (2) if you make them and decide, yeah, my roommate is right, mix the juice from your zested lemon with some powdered sugar and soymilk to make a lemon-y glaze, then drizzle it all over your rolls. Scrumptious and photogenic.
** I created this recipe just this week, so it still needs some engineering. Obviously, whole blueberries make both eating and assembly difficult, so perhaps mashing them up a little before rolling the dough might be an option. If anyone tries this, let me know.




You can expect roughly twelve to fifteen rolls from this recipe.

Let Them Eat Scones

I’m going to throw a tea party. I’ve been toying with the idea for a while now, but there have been two significant hitches in my plan: one, that my residence is ever-changing; and two, that I fear the gender implications such a party would have. Because seriously, I want to do it up right: silly clothes and silly decorations and silly invitations. My best friend has even offered to let me use her grandmother’s antique tea set, and you bet I’m going to sit it on a doily or something.

Over the months, I haven’t let myself mull this party properly, though; it feels like I’m selling out. I have hairy arms and hairy legs and get into hairy situations. I’m not supposed to want to throw tea parties! I didn’t even have tea parties as a kid (too preoccupied with lesbian Barbies that got it on at the drive-in); why are they so appealing at twenty-two?

Well, there are a few reasons. I think part of it is that I like planning social occasions. As much as women are stereotyped as the centers of social networking, I don’t think that’s such a bad quality for members of either sex to develop. So here I go, embracing being a bringer-together of people. In this particular instance, I want it to be an all-female event because I’m looking at it as an opportunity to enhance my female relationships. Patriarchy has successfully pitted a lot of women against each other because a lot of us (myself included) have bonded to men in our attempts to reject traditional femininity. And in bonding to men, we’ve wound up unknowingly siding with them a lot of the time - to the greater detriment of our sex. Ladies having lady friends is important in the same way that POC caucuses are important at radical events: sometimes there are things that only folks that share your identity would understand. How strange that I want to develop this camaraderie through such a symbolically-oppressive event!
This brings me to my next point: that I like doing traditional things ironically. Face it, everyone does now. Those knitting patterns with skulls in them? Shit like “his” and “her” flasks? 3D wood puzzles that make guns instead of planes? We can hide behind the politics of subversion or say we’re challenging the routines of everyday life, but what it realty comes down to is this culturally irrelevant Urban Outfitters “LOL”-wave that we’re all riding. Whatever, fuck it; I’ve accepted it as a fact of my generation. Who am I to pretend to be immune?

The final reason is that there’s this part of me that longs for some sense of routine, of occasion. People used to get dressed up to ride airplanes. If someone asked you to stop talking during a movie, you did it. Dinner was eaten at a table. Not all traditions need to be resurrected (I’m totally peeved when a boy tries to out-pace me just because he wants to get to the door first so he can open it. Dude, I’m just a fast walker, and if I beat you to the door, fucking deal. It’s just a door); not all tradition needs to be resurrected resolutely (I know it’s tacky, but I won’t stop wearing pajamas to the video store). All that being said, I feel something’s gotten lost as we’ve distanced ourselves from cultural routine. Nothing feels special anymore! So the thought of receiving an invitation (in the MAIL of all places) to an event that someone planned right down to the guest list (which I was decided to be included on! hurrah!) – well, that charms me right down to my marrow. It’s not always bad to revisit things that otherwise seem antiquated. And I’m doing this by throwing a tea party (eventually).

Now, a good tea party requires a good menu, and I think I have a lot of it worked out. (This, of course, will be revealed in greater detail as the time to execute this actually approaches.) But a tea party just wouldn’t be a tea party without some good goddamn scones (oh, and tea). I’ll be honest: I haven’t had a single good goddamn scone since going vegan. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had many things that were good that people called “scones,” but anyone who knows anything about scones knows most things people try to pass as scones, well, aren’t. That thing you picked up at Starbucks? Nuh-uh. Those whatnots on a tray at Whole Foods? Try again. True scones should be somewhere between a cake and a biscuit: moist and fluffy with a little bit of crisp. All those pastries being pandered by vegan blogs and cookbooks are nonsense. I need the real thing, baby.

Needless to say, the perfect vegan scone is something I’ve been working on for years. Once, I actually got it (okay, so I lied about that “good scone since going vegan” thing), but it was a complete fluke that occurred at a time when I knew nothing about baking. I have no idea what I did, and all subsequent attempts at recreating that recipe have been miserable failures. In fact, my attempts to doctor a lot of scone recipes have been miserable failures (in part because I was unknowingly doctoring recipes that produced those meal-y biscuits I’ve been complaining about). However, after a lot of tries and a lot of research, I believe I’ve finally got it. I’ve finally got that good goddamn (vegan) scone. So without further ado…


GOOD GODDAMN (VEGAN) SCONES
+ 2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
+ 2 tsp baking powder
+ 1 1/2 tsp arrowroot powder
+ 1/2 tsp salt
+ 1 cup non-dairy milk
+ 1 tsp apple cider vinegar
+ 1/2 cup non-dairy butter
+ 1/2 cup sugar
+ 1/2 cup chocolate chips*
+ 1/2 cup raisins*
+ extra non-dairy milk for glazing

* Really, you can use whatever you want in whatever quantities you want or omit this shit completely. Pro tip: avoid fresh fruit. If you want fruity scones, use frozen fruit. Don’t add them to the well, though. After that step, roll out the dough and put the frozen fruit all over it, then fold the dough over and roll it out again. If you’re too vigorous about mixing the fruit in, it’ll dye the dough and get all weird and… it’s just not something you want to do. So just fold and roll, my sweets.

01. Heat the oven to 500 degrees (yeah, 500) and place the oven rack in the middle. Add the vinegar to the “milk “and set aside to curdle. (This will be your “buttermilk.”) Sift together the flour, baking powder, arrowroot, and salt. Now, none of us really sift when a recipe tells us to sift, but in this case, it really makes a difference. The more the flour’s been sifted, the more it helps create a fluffy texture when everything’s mixed together. I wouldn’t sift more than five times, but you know, do it at least once and go to town if you’re up for it. (C’mon, friend, meet us in Sift Town!)

02. In a separate bowl, cream together the sugar and “butter.” This is important because it incorporates the sugar better than just putting the sugar in the dry ingredients and adding the wet. I can’t explain the science of it, but trust me, all bakers agree on this. Once the sugar and butter are total BFF, add them to your flour mixture. Using a pastry cutter or fork (some books suggest some weird two-butter knife method, but I have no idea what’s up with that, but if you do, you can use that, too), cut in the butter/sugar. You can stop when your bowl looks like it’s full of flour crumbles instead of flour. You want something meal-y but still uniform.

03. Grease up a baking sheet, then measure out your additives. It’s important to have everything ready to go before combining it because once the wet hits the dry (well, the now semi-dry), the acid in the “buttermilk” will activate the baking powder, and there’s only so active it can be before it’s less/inactive. We’re running on a schedule here, people! Make a little well in your butter flour, and pour all that “buttermilk” in. Throw your chocolate/raisins/whatever on top of that, and with a rubber spatula, mix everything together working from the inside out. Slowly but surely, the dough will come together, but be careful not to over-mix. Over-mixing produces more gluten, and more gluten means a stiffer scone. We’re shooting for something light, remember?

04. On a well-floured surface, roll/pat out your dough to a roughly 8- to 10-inch square, about an inch high. Then take a glass or cookie cutter (hearts are way cute and dorky) and cut out your scones. Be sure to dip your glass/cutter in flour before each pressing; it’ll make your life so much easier. Then place them on your baking sheet. You can push together the leftover scraps and make more until you’re out of dough. I’m not going to lie, I ate the raw dough that couldn’t be made into a pretty shape. Anyway, using a pastry brush (or your finger if you’re super punk rock like me), lightly glaze your scones with non-dairy milk. Then pop them in the fridge for fifteen minutes (or the freezer for ten).

05. When time’s up, pull them from the fridge/freezer, and give them a second glaze. Turn your oven down to 425 degrees, and pop those suckers in for 15 to 18 minutes. (The bigger the shape, the more time they’ll need.) If you’re keeping an eye on them with your handy dandy oven light, you’ll be really tempted to keep them in there longer because they won’t seem brown enough, but trust me, it’s time to pull them. Let them cool, and enjoy with your favorite scone-worthy beverage (tea, coffee, cocoa, vegg nog, etc.)


This recipe yields somewhere between twelve and fifteen scones.