grape leaf pie

i think it's fair to say

that this may be one of the

oddest things i've made in

a long time. and you know,

i make some odd things.

--

six years ago, i was working

at the magazine, living by myself

in a tiny studio apartment and

needed to make a little more money.

i thought about it for a few months,

hesitant to add another job to

my busy schedule. but, when i found

out that the gym i already frequented

five days a week was in search of a

part timer, i jumped at the chance.

the job helped in two ways:

it gave me extra money.

it gave me a free gym membership.

at first, i struggled with my two

identities. it was hard waking up

early to go to the gym for myself,

come home, shower,

pack a bag, go to work,

drive as fast as i could back to the gym

and then dash into the small changing

room that i entered in heels

and dresses and emerged in sneakers,

workout pants and an old camp t-shirt.

but, before i knew it,

it was two years later. i was living

with larry in our two bedroom

apartment, enjoying the relationships

that i had made with the people who

attended the gym and still resenting having

to wake up at 7am every sunday morning

to open the gym, just as much as i disliked

not getting home until 9pm on monday

and tuesday nights.

and then, i decided to go to culinary school

full time and still keep my monday to friday job.

and, i made the decision that in spite of

the fact that i was putting myself into

thousands of dollars of debt, i had no choice

but to walk away from the little bit of money

that helped bridge the gap between

scared and making it.

i was quitting the gym.

telling my never-there boss was a breeze.

it was the gym-goers, who i had formed real

relationships with, that i was dreading addressing.

but, the gym goers, the ones who had spent

two years working out

while discussing recipes with me,

were wonderful

and supportive.

and one of them, linda, asked me a question

that i had never really thought of before,

but has stuck with me everyday since:

can you taste the recipe before you make it?

she elaborated, can you look at a recipe,

read the ingredients, the techniques

and know what you will

be tasting at the very end?

and, i know it sounds strange,

but every time i think of those two

weird transitional years in my life in which i

was food editor by day/gym something-or-other

at night, i think about linda and how

in the end, her question, forcing me to always

critically examine a recipe before making it,

made it all worth it.

--

and that's why i had to make this

grape leaf pie. i read the headnote provided,

discussing how unusual of a recipe it was.

i read the ingredients,

a combination of:

greek yogurt,

shallots,

toasted nuts,

herbs,

lemon zest,

lemon juice

and

rice flour.

i read that i, the recipe-maker, was to

line the bottom of a dish with soaked

grape leaves, spread them with the

yogurt paste, cover them with more grape

leaves and after brushing with oil and

topping with panko, i was to bake the pie

and then cut it into wedges.

and i, for the life of me, had no idea

what i would see when i peered into that

savory cake.

would it be firm? a solid piece that

cut into beautiful wedges? or would

it have only firmed slightly, still

holding onto some of that squish

that yogurt is famous for, the filling

oozing out of the sides of the slices? or,

after 40 minutes in the oven,

would it be a scoopable mess?

i didn't know. i didn't understand it.

the directions were easy enough.

just before throwing the cake pan

into the oven, i compared my pie to

the picture: it was the spitting image,

just unbaked. 40 minutes was perfect -

the pie came out with a crispy golden

brown top; the house smelled like

a greek restaurant. i stared at it for

10 minutes.

and then, i started to cut.

the top leaves crackled

and lifted from the filling. the bottom

leaves, more tender, sort of clung better.

the filling was sturdy, handling the knife

like a champ.

and still, i don't know how to describe it.

instead, i'll tell give you

this random collection of thoughts:

-the center of the pie was very firm.

-every time i think of something to compare it to,

i want to say that i reminded me a little bit of tempeh,

but i know that that would turn off people who are

anti-meat replacement products and possibly infuriate

tempeh lovers who once they try it, may think

that this pie is nothing like tempeh.

-if i didn't make it, i wouldn't have known that

there was yogurt inside, holding it all together.

-i wish that i had used more herbs.

-even though i thought that the perfect large

grape leaves would look beautiful on top, next

time i would use smaller ones. i think that they

would cover better and not be so hard to cut.

but, still, i liked it.

i know that's hard to accept,

what with me not really able to give

you any information and all.

but i did. it was light and filling

and unusual and actually reheated

pretty well the next day for lunch.

but, i maintain my stance:

this really may be one of the

oddest things i've made in

a long time.*

grape leaf pie

adapted from plenty

i followed the concept completely, but i did make changes based on what i like and what i had in the house: eliminating tarragon and parsley, keeping the mint and adding basil, throwing in two cloves of garlic, switching in chopped walnuts for pine nuts and reducing the oil and butter used. the original instructions said to make and bake in a shallow bowl. i opted to use an 8" cake pan, which worked well. i think.

also, the recipe calls for 20-25 grape leaves. i ended up using 12. i wish i had used more on top because as you can see in the picture, as they baked and shrunk a little bit, they exposed the filling. but, i still think the most i would have used was 16. use your judgement.

last thing. because it's so creamy, i always use fat-free greek yogurt. even though i'm sure the recipe intended for a full-fat yogurt to be used, i wanted to go with my normal pick, but i did have my doubts that it was the wrong move. luckily, the store was out, so i opted for 2%, which i think was fine.

15-25 grape leaves (see headnote)

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided

4 shallots, peeled and finely chopped

2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

1 container (7 ounces) greek yogurt, plus more for serving (see headnote)

1/3 cup chopped walnuts, toasted

3 tablespoons thinly sliced basil

3 tablespoons thinly sliced mint

1 lemon, grated and juiced

1/2 cup rice flour

3 tablespoons panko

salt and black pepper

heat oven to 375˚f.

place grape leaves in bowl; cover with boiling water. let sit 10 minutes. drain; dry well. using scissors, trim and discard any hard stalks on the bottom of the leaves.

in small skillet, heat 1 tablespoon olive oil over medium heat; add shallots. cook 7 minutes, or until just starting to turn light brown, adjusting heat, if necessary and stirring occasionally. add garlic; cook 1-2 minutes more, or until the shallots and garlic are both golden brown, stirring occasionally. remove from heat; let cool.

whisk together melted butter and remaining olive oil.

cover bottom and sides of 8-inch cake pan with grape leaves, overlapping slightly. using pastry brush, gently brush bottom of leaves with butter-oil mixture. set aside.

in bowl, stir together shallots, yogurt, walnuts, herbs, lemon zest, 1 tablespoon lemon juice and salt and pepper; taste and adjust, if necessary. stir in rice flour. using offset spatula, spread yogurt paste evenly in serving dish, making sure to get the filling all the way to the edges.

fold grape leaves evenly over top of filling. top with remaining grape leaves, overlapping slightly and covering well. brush gently with butter-oil mixture. sprinkle with panko; drizzle with remaining butter-oil mixture.

bake 40 minutes, or until leaves crisp and the breadcrumbs are golden brown. let sit at least 10 minutes. cut into wedges. serve with dollops of yogurt, if desired.**

*just as i finished writing this, larry came in and asked what i was blogging about. when i told him grape leaf pie, he said, that was good. when i looked at him, he said, yes, in retrospect, i liked it a lot. it's not that he hadn't eaten it or even complained about it. he just originally had the same what-is-this? reaction that i did.

**i picked up an extra 7 ounce container of yogurt to serve on the side. while i planned to just dollop it, i had a last minute change of heart, squeezing in lemon juice and adding chopped mint and basil. i'm very glad i went that route. i think it added a very necessary something to the pie.

spiced apple cake with brown sugar meringue

somehow in the midst of

catching up on recipes, i jumped

right past our chanukah dinner

and into new year's eve.

but, our dinner that evening -

a couple weeks ago at this point -

was really fun and everything

a holiday with

your family should be.

we brought back chanukah harry,

a play on secret santa, in its second

incarnation. we ate latkes and yummy challah,

before pulling gold wrappers

off our gelt. and later, we played catch phrase,

which you should know can get pretty

dangerous in our house.

(we're just a little intense about our games -

there's clue screaming and

chair bouncing, but i think it's only

natural when faced with true

challenges: how would you get

your team to guess the word

shazam without a lot of

hand gestures and

widening of the eyes?

i didn't know either.)

if i skipped chanukah,

i wouldn't be able

to tell you our night - or about my

new friend, the apple cake.

i first saw this recipe in early october,

during one of the first contests i really took

serious interest in on food52.

and by took seriously, i mean from afar -

i was still a voyeur, not yet even voting.

but i was immediately smitten by one

of the finalists for that week:

an old-fashioned apple spice cake

by betteirine, that i'm sorry to say i

probably never would have looked

at once, if not for the gorgeous picture.

but i would have missed out.

because once i spotted

the shattered top, i was in.

i loved that amanda and merrill

called it a "cake with a snow cap,"

a phrase that popped into my head,

every time i thought of the dessert.

and i loved that they said something

to the effect, that this cake should never

actually work, but it does.

and, is it just me, or does anything with

brown sugar sound instantly worth it?

so, i filed it away until i had a need.

and then, i'm so glad, in december,

i had a need. even though we're slightly

past apple season, there's no denying

that apple shortages are never really

something we deal with.

and the brown sugar

(did i mention the brown sugar?),

absolutely made me feel ok about

baking this fall cake in the winter.

usually most of the ingredients

are in the house, but it wasn't until

i was packing up the bag to go to my

mom's, that i realized that um,

somehow i ran out of golden raisins

and eggs. and butter.

thank goodness, i have a mom,

who has a house stocked with

such necessities. and a sister,

who is willing to pick things

up from the grocery store,

on a rainy miserable day,

when i, for some odd reason,

assume that my mother

does not actually

have butter in her house.

and, usually, i would

think that this recipe would

not take very long to prepare

at all. but probably, that's the

case if you are not talking to your

family and telling stories and stopping

every five seconds to interject into

their conversation because who

wants to be forgotten about in

the kitchen?

but still, it's an easy enough cake,

and just the kind i love:

a spiced thick batter,

studded heavily with

golden raisins and toasted walnuts,

then strands of grated apple.

the glossy meringue is thickly spread

over the batter and baked

until the top is crisp

and the whole house smells of

sugar and cinnamon.

oh, and another thing:

i was really concerned about the

top cracking. you see, i wanted

it to crack. for me, that was the

charm behind the cake, the

reason for wanting to make it

in the first place. so how nice

for once, after years of fretting over

cheesecakes garnished with

deep top pockets, to pull the pan

out of the oven, watch the top

crack down the center and just

not care? well, i'll tell you:

it was nice.

but i shouldn't have been so

worried about the top - or

about baking it at my mom's,

hours before serving,

just to be sure it would crack.

because it did. the moment

the knife hit the surface that

evening, the cake set out to

prove that it would not conform

to perfect just-so squares. no,

this cake was going to form

its own lines, fracturing here

and fissuring there and looking

like it was cut by a small child

with a plastic knife. and i loved it.

but the thing about this cake -

which by the way was so good:

moist, sweetly spiced, textured,

and, in fact, topped with a snow cap -

is that i shouldn't

have worried so much

about the cracking.

in spite of

what the instructions said,

the next day, the top still

splintered on its own

when we cut off

an experimental sliver.

in fact, it took a few days for

a knife to

cut smoothly through.

but now,

crack or no crack,

i would make this cake again -

not for the novelty,

or the double use of brown sugar -

but because, frankly,

it would be a shame not to.

this cake is delicious.

spiced apple cake with brown sugar meringue

adapted from betteirene via food52

well, i'm sad to say that i know one reason why this cake was so good - i realized way too late (like looking at the recipe again after the cake was already served late), that i doubled the butter. yes, doubled. i cannot believe it either. for some reason that day, with the rain and the wind and the people (my family) talking and me worried about my chanukah harry gift and trying to make a meringue with crazy weather, i had what i'll just call, a moment, and read 1/2 cup to mean 2 sticks. i know. but, below, i've written the recipe with the true 1/2 cup.

also - and maybe i'll just say right now that this was not the day to prove i'm a good reader - i somehow missed the part that said to add all dry ingredients and then the flour. i had already packed a resealable plastic bag with all dry ingredients combined - so i crossed my breath and stirred only a couple times with great intent. nothing suffered. maybe it was all that butter.

oh, and i'm sorry, but i have one more thing to tell you. when the recipe was made on food52, they baked the cake in a round cake pan (if you haven't looked yet, the picture is here again, for good measure). i loved that idea - especially because this is obviously not a fancy cake plate-cake, but a serve out of the pan confection that maybe only works for after-lunch slices, teas or family dinners. i, however, stuck with the square pan - only because all my round pans are not so easy to get to. ok, now i'm done.

brown sugar meringue

2 large egg whites

1 1/2 cups firmly packed brown sugar (i had dark - it worked well)

2 tablespoons water

position rack in center of oven. heat oven to 350˚f.

prepare a double boiler or small saucepot by filling it with 1 to 2-inches of water. over high heat, bring to a boil. in top of double boiler or a small heatproof mixing bowl that can sit on saucepot without touching water, combine egg whites, brown sugar and water. using electric mixer, beat egg white mixture 3-5 minutes, or until peaks form. set aside. (just a note - if you're using the bowl/saucepot setup, have an oven mitt nearby in case the now-hot bowl begins to tip - you might need to hold it.)

apple spice cake

1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature (1 stick)

1 cup firmly packed brown sugar

2 large egg yolks

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves (optional - i did not have)

2 large meaty apples (i used huge fuji apples)

1/2 cup chopped walnuts, toasted

1/2 cup golden raisins

2 large meaty apples (i used huge fuji apples)

2 cups all-purpose flour

grease 9 x 9 baking pan.

in mixing bowl using electric mixer, beat together butter and brown sugar 2 minutes, or until fluffy. add egg yolks and beat 30 seconds, or until completely blended. using a wooden spoon, stir in baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, walnuts and raisins.

peel apples. grate apples on the large holes of a box grater; add to batter. fold in flour, just until combined, taking care not to over mix.

transfer batter to prepared pan; smooth the top. spread brown sugar meringue evenly over batter, smoothing. bake 45 minutes, or until top is crisp.

(as i said, at this point, the recipe instructs to serve it the first day for a meringue that cracks; the next day for neat slices. i say, just enjoy it whenever you're ready.)