pickled cherries (times two)

i have never been a cherry person.

growing up, while all the other

kids were reaching for cherry

ice pops,

lollipops,

candies,

i held back because i always

knew the sour apple or grape

that i was hoping for was not

in danger of disappearing.

(oddly enough,

i had a conversation with my

sister this week about her

similar dislike of cherry starbursts.)

it wasn't until i was older

that i really understood that cherries -

fleetingly available, expensive, messy to eat cherries -

are lovely and fruity and offer the

very best of summer.

i hold true to my original belief -

i'm still not one for cherry flavored things.

but, apparently, i kind of love cherries.

last week, i, as many people i know,

came into a huge lot of cherries. i was torn

between eating them immediately or saving

and playing. ultimately, thanks to my work

schedule, i opted for the latter.

after a brief conversation with larry,

he asked if cherries could be pickled.

magic words. i recently told someone that

if i don't know what to do with a vegetable

lately, i pickle it or pesto it. i was not feeling

cherry pesto, and i was totally into making

the already tart cherries, ultra tangy.

i researched recipes and decided on something

i'm often guilty of - talking myself into making

something that i have a very good reason not to

make. (it requires a skill i don't think i can handle,

i can't find something that is vital to the recipe, but

make it anyway, or the worst

- and the culprit this time - convincing

myself that an ingredient i don't care for will be

delicious when utilized in this particular capacity.)

i haven't had five spice powder for years.

the last time i tasted it,

the mixture had been used to jazz up a sauce

for chicken. i wasn't crazy about. it was the star anise.

i'm just not a licorice person - hence my major issue

with fennel, anise and several other things.

but since then, i've sampled it in other dishes that

had not been so bad: larry's pho from mo pho,

a seafood dish on vacation, a dessert that's kind

of foggy in my memory.

when i saw a recipe that involved star anise,

i remembered the richness of the pho and i

decided to take a chance.

pickling the cherries was easy. larry poked

holes in their flesh as i mixed together the

brine of cinnamon sticks, star anise, black

peppercorns, red wine vinegar and brown sugar.

as it boiled, the house smelled delicious.

i poured the mixture over the cherries and let

them sit. an hour later, before leaving for

the evening, i sampled one. it reminded me of

something. when we returned home, i had a second

and it hit me: it tasted like medicine. and now

i had a whole big batch of medicinal cherries.

as i tried to go to sleep that night, my mind

wandered back and forth: why can't i sleep?

why did i think the star anise was a good idea?

why didn't i just go with a flavor profile

that i knew i liked? wasn't pickling cherries

risky enough? i will never be able to wake

up in the morning. i should have made them spicy!

the next night, i surveyed the chiles at the market.

i was not feeling jalapenos or serranos - and if i

had been, i have a stockpile in a pot on our deck (yay

for keeping something alive!) - nor, was i into

the other options. as i placed the habanero

into a bag, i was pretty sure i was crazy and

seriously sadistic when it came to these cherries.

at home, i tossed together the habanero, now

halved, cinnamon sticks, white

wine vinegar, palm sugar, left over

from the sriracha, and salt. i boiled the mixture

together and poked the cherries

(smarter this time - i used only a portion of my

remaining quantity). this time i notice that

when you poke holes in the cherries,

they make a mess. when the mixture

had boiled for a couple minutes and cooled

slightly, i poured it on top of the fruits

and while i was scared of the spice, i already

knew this batch was a winner.

the other ones? they're ok.

in fact, i can see how someone who

is not me would really enjoy them.

but, the spicy cherries? they're the ones

i regret not making more of - and sadly,

that's now what's on my mind late at night

when i really should be asleep.

pickled cherries (times two)

i'm including both recipes because i know that just because the first version is not my favorite, it doesn't mean it can't be yours. in both recipes, i poked the cherries about four times with a fork, a trick i learned from the internet. this makes it easier for the brine to infiltrate the cherries and helps the cherries to release their own juices into the brine.

star anise, black peppercorn and brown sugar pickled cherries

adapted from shesimmers.com

i played around a lot with this recipe, changing the peppercorns, opting for brown sugar (and less of it) and eliminating the bay leaf and the fennel seeds, just to name a few. i also halved the amount of cherries, used two-thirds of the vinegar and did not reduce the brine.

2 cups red wine vinegar

1/2 cup, plus 2 tablespoons granulated brown sugar

3 cinnamon sticks or 1 large cinnamon stick, broken into 3 pieces

2 pieces star anise

1 tablespoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon black peppercorns

1 1/4 pounds cherries

in small saucepot, combine vinegar, brown sugar, cinnamon sticks, star anise and kosher salt. rub the peppercorns between your hands as you add the to the pot. over high heat, bring to a boil; reduce heat and let simmer 5 minutes. remove from heat; let cool 10 minutes.

meanwhile, using fork, poke cherries 4 times. place in bowl. pour slightly cooled brine mixture over cherries, pressing on cherries to make sure they're all under the brine. let sit at room temperature 2 hours. cover bowl tightly or transfer to a cleaned glass jar with lids. chill in fridge.

habanero, cinnamon and palm sugar pickled cherries

i will not lie - these are spicy. but, they were nowhere near as spicy as i feared they would be when i opted to use the habanero. i used one very long cinnamon stick, which i think is equivilant to about 3 normal size cinnamon sticks. this is the same amount i used for the first cherries, but because i used a lot less vinegar, the cinnamon was significantly more prominent. and, opted for palm sugar, because i had it in the fridge, but i'm sure you could use whichever sugar you have in the house. oh, and one last thing, i used two cups of cherries, but i'm pretty sure i could have used at least 1/2 cup more, if not a full cup for the amount of brine i had.

these cherries were great in a salad with arugula, pickled onions and goat cheese.

1 1/3 cups white wine vinegar

3 cinnamon sticks or 1 very long cinnamon stick, broken into three pieces

1 habanero pepper, halved

1/4 cup palm sugar

1 tablespoon kosher salt

2 packed cups cherries

in small saucepot, combine vinegar, cinnamon sticks, habanero pepper, palm sugar and kosher salt. bring to a boil over high heat; reduce to heat to low and simmer 5 minutes. let cool 10 minutes.

meanwhile, using fork, poke each cherry 4 times. place cherries in a medium bowl. top with slightly cooled brine mixture, shaking slightly to make sure all the cherries are under the brine. let sit at least 2 hours at room temperature. transfer to a clean glass jar or cover bowl tightly. store in fridge.

chocolate caramel tart with grey sea salt

this morning, with my eyes barely open,

i did one of my favorite saturday morning activities:

i stayed in bed, smelling the coffee downstairs

and listening to the food network.

then, tyler told me his plans for the

next 30 minutes:

beef bourguignon (yum - even as a non-meat eater

i can appreciate the unbelievable-ness of beef

bourguignon) and poached pears (yum, again)

in chocolate sauce. wait, what?

why would he do that to the poor pear?

i asked larry with my eyes still shut.

i went on a rant about how people

always want to add chocolate to

things they shouldn't and they just

can't leave well enough - like a perfectly

fragrant poached pear - alone.

as larry went to go get the coffee,

i thought about fruity desserts versus

chocolate desserts and how i normally

pick the former to make

unless i'm cooking specifically for

someone else. and, that i still pull

and save chocolate recipes for

special occasions, even though

i would never ordinarily make

them, were i only baking for myself.

(however, i can't even think of the

last time i baked just for me. do

people do that?)

take this chocolate caramel tart

with grey sea salt that i made

for my father's birthday last week.

i have mentally bookmarked this

recipe three times:

first, in saveur.

second, when written about in lottie and doof.

and third, when last night's dinner told the story

of her wedding cake and anniversary celebration.

really, though, every time i have

the opportunity to make a dessert,

there are so many things i want to make,

like cookies, fruit crumbles and summer puddings.

but, when my sisters and i decided to

host dinner for my father's birthday last week,

before i decided on

the arugula, grape and gorgonzola salad,

the turkey meatballs with penne

or the cheese and scallion toasts,

i claimed the tart as the official birthday dessert.

after checking with my sisters to make

sure that my father wouldn't be offended,

considering that he would be

served a tart on his birthday

instead of a traditional frosted cake,

i headed to lottie and doof to print

the recipe. and then i paid closer

attention to the story behind his tart

and the comments that followed the recipe:

the crust that was hard to roll out,

the caramel that was possibly delicious

or possibly a little flavorless and the

ganache that seemed straightforward.

and most notably, it was not the saveur version,

but instead, the one published in diner's journal.

it lead me to closely examine the saveur version,

realizing that this one called for using

a candy thermometer on the caramel - something

i never do unless marshmallows are involved -

and that the crust was a mix and press,

not a roll and fit. hmmm.

my dad's birthday was on a saturday.

this tart, simple, but with lots of steps

and lots of chilling, made me realize

that i better start on friday. but by

friday afternoon, when i went shopping,

i still wasn't sure which version to make.

luckily, a lot of the ingredients were

already in the house and the discrepancy

between the two - quantity-wise - wasn't

so crazy that i had to make a decision

before buying everything.

after a lot of time stuck in jersey shore traffic

trying just to get home,

playing the recipes over and over in my head,

i had a plan:

saveur crust.

lottie and doof caramel.

saveur ganache.

fleur de sel a la lottie and doof.

the crust

was simple enough to

mix together,

if you don't count the

botched separated egg.

sure, it wasn't gorgeous

when pressed into the pan,

but i reasoned that people

(read: my family) would only

really see the outer crust.

and, i believed

that even that top part

would look

better after baking.

i don't know why.

so, i chilled the dough,

pierced it all over with a fork

and baked it, hoping

that i wouldn't regret a stay

in the oven sans dried beans

or pie weights.

with about four minutes left

to bake, i noticed a huge

bubble. by the time i pulled

it out, there were four more.

but, luck was on my side.

i grabbed the camera to take

a picture of my deformed crust

and by the time i got the lens in focus,

all the bubbles had deflated.

once the crust was cooled,

i set to work on the caramel,

by far the part of the tart i was

most nervous about. caramel,

as i'm sure you know, can go from

sugar water to a burnt sticky mess in

the blink of an eye and i was determined

to pour it into the crust while it

was still in the amber family.

this was one of the main reasons i

chose not to use the saveur caramel -

many reviewers mentioned that theirs

burnt while waiting to reach the correct

temperature. i only wanted to make

this filling once and i've had a feeling for a while

that my candy thermometer is slightly off,

in need of recalibration. i'd much prefer

a recipe that goes by color, even if it meant

more opportunity for personal error.

and while its true that the color jumped quickly

from clear to lightly golden to dark brown,

i'm glad i used this method. there was

an extra tablespoon of creme fraiche

and a little extra heavy cream, too.

two things that i thought would help

me possibly mellow out the flavor

and potentially firm consistency if i went

too far while simmering. at the last minute,

i worried that it would be too bland and

i sprinkled in a few pinches of kosher salt,

which i'm glad about, but i wish i had had

the guts to add even more.

otherwise, i obeyed the recipes.

i held my breath as i poured the caramel

into the crust, cringing as the hot liquid

reached the very top of the crust. and then,

as luck would have it - or a well written

recipe would indicate - it fit perfectly.

i let it cool, then placed the whole thing

in the fridge, ignoring it until morning.

a minute later, i was jumping up

and down in the kitchen. it was weird.

but, i can admit, completely

true to form.

i planned to use fleur de sel on top

of the tart because that was all i owned.

i really preferred the idea of grey sea salt

called for in the saveur recipe -

doesn't it sound all glamorous and

delicious? - but i refused to buy an extra

salt for one recipe. then, as i opened a

cabinet to put the vanilla extract away,

i saw a container and turned it around,

curious of its contents. grey sea salt.

in spite of having a much more intimate

relationship with everything i own

thanks to our recent move - i had no

idea whatsoever that it was part of my spice

collection.

(seriously, i just looked here

and i still can't spot the tin.) i texted my

sister who really tried her best to act

like she didn't think i was crazy and like

she really was just as excited by

grey sea salt as i was.

when i got home from food shopping

the next morning, i made the ganache -

the only part i wasn't worried about.

i smoothed it over the tart the best

i could, wishing at the last minute

that i had used my offset spatula

instead of the regular one, and placed it

in the fridge to set. steps, people.

they're your best friend when baking.

hours later,

i enlisted one sister to distract my father

and the other to help me remove the

pan's removable bottom from the tart.

we got the cake plate ready and while

i did my best to explain to erin why

we did have to remove the bottom, i grabbed

two spatulas. but, this is one sturdy tart.

with just a little jiggle, the crust was free

and it was so not scary to place it

on the cake plate. instead of sprinkling

the individual pieces, i sprinkled

(grey!) salt over the entire top.

after happy birthday was sung,

i took my millionth deep breath

and cut into the tart. i had read -

that for some, in both versions -

the caramel had pooled out

immediately after

the first slice was removed.

but, luck was really on my side with this

dessert - the tart cut into perfect

wedges and while the caramel bulged

a bit, it stayed put, wedged firmly

between the chocolate crust and

the chocolate ganache.

i asked (ok, made) everyone to wait a few

minutes before digging in, thinking

that while it was best sliced cold,

it was probably best enjoyed with

the caramel slightly softer.

and, then the ganache began to slide

off the top, so i started yelling,

eat, eat, eat! i'm a little difficult.

in one of the reviews (have i started

to sound like an article in cook's illustrated yet?),

i had read that this tart was basically,

a glorified twix bar. and in some

ways, that's true. but, a twix

bar doesn't boast crystals of

salt and it wouldn't mark

a special occasion at most

dinner tables. the other thing

about a twix is that a bite

doesn't come with crazy high

expectations, like this dessert did.

everyone said they liked it - i

even got a this is my type of dessert

from erin and a reassurance from my

father that he was ok eating a tart

instead of a cake on his birthday.

but, i wanted a little more oomph.

sure, it was pretty and rich and

chocolaty. but, i wished for more

salt in the crust and caramel

and a couple

splashes of vanilla extract in the

latter. larry says often that i have

high expectations and that the tart

was good. here's the thing:

i was hoping for a dessert

that would not just be good,

but one that would be remarkably

memorable.

i wanted the kind of dessert

that would maybe even make

a poached pear lover add a pool

of chocolate sauce because she

remembers that the last time

she had a chocolate dessert,

it was life changing.

but, like i said, i sometimes

have high expectations.

chocolate caramel tart with grey sea salt

adapted from saveur, diner journal and lottie and doof

i need to say that i think this was a very good tart. it's just that if i make this again, i would follow my instincts and up the salt in the crust (and use table salt instead of the coarser kosher), then add salt and vanilla extract into the caramel. i think this was one of those cases in which a few extras go a very long way. the saveur version called for chilling five hours in between each step; the diner's journal version calls for chilling until firm. i followed the former's advice, which while perfectly fine was probably somewhat unnecessary.

oh, and as for sprinkling the salt on each slice, i understand. i loved the visual of adding it to the entire thing. but, four days later, when larry offered me a bite of his leftover slice, i had already forgotten about the visual, and really, the salt altogether. it had melted into the chocolate, creating a slick top that offered a surprisingly salty bite.

crust:

1 1/2 cups flour

5 tablespoons unsweetened dutch-processed cocoa powder

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

10 tablespoons unsalted butter, cubed and softened

10 tablespoons (1/2 cup, plus 2 tablespoons) confectioners' sugar

2 egg yolks, at room temperature

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

caramel:

1/2 cup water

2 cups granulated sugar

1/4 cup light corn syrup

1/2 cup heavy cream

1 stick unsalted butter, cubed

2 tablespoons creme fraiche

ganache:

1/2 cup heavy cream

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped

grey sea salt, coarse sea salt or fleur de sel

in bowl, combine flour, cocoa powder and salt.

in separate large bowl using hand mixer, beat butter and sugar 2 minutes, or until mixture is combine, pale and fluffy. add yolks and vanilla extract; mix to combine. stir in dry ingredients, just until combined. place dough in 9" fluted tart pan with removable bottom; press evenly into bottom and up sides of pan. chill in fridge 30 minutes. meanwhile, heat oven to 350˚f.

place tart pan on baking sheet; pierce crust all over with fork; bake 20 minutes, or until firm, dry and fully cooked through. transfer to rack; let cool.

in large saucepot, stir together water, sugar and corn syrup. cook over medium-high heat 10-20 minutes, or until mixture reaches a medium-amber color, swirling occasionally. (you ultimately want a caramel that's a bit darker and deeper in color, but it does continue to cook after you remove it from the heat.) remove saucepot from heat. carefully drizzle in heavy cream, then the butter, then the creme fraiche (the mixture will bubble). stir until smooth. pour the caramel into the cooled crust. let sit until cool and firm; transfer to fridge and chill 4 hours, or until very firm.

place chopped chocolate in small bowl. in small saucepot, bring heavy cream to a boil. pour cream over chocolate; let sit 3 minutes. using spatula, slowly stir mixture, starting in the center, until the cream and chocolate come together. pour ganache over tart; use spatula to spread and smooth. chill tart for several hours.

when ready to serve, remove the sides and bottom of the tart pan (trick: place the tart on top of a large can and gently wiggle off the side). cut tart into wedges; sprinkle with salt. wait 5-10 minutes before serving slices.