Last week, and the week before that, I got emails from my brother Carey, with pictures of puffy popover pancakes he’d made. One was stuffed with mulberries and the other with pear & apple compote. I adore that he makes stuff like this for himself and his wife. His emails reminded me that I hadn’t made one for my boys in a very long time, so I set to it. This recipe is both easy and tasty, and one of my boys’ most favorite breakfasts. It was also one of the very first recipes I ever posted on ZoeBakes, so some of you (mom and dad) may remember it, but most of you probably haven’t gone back that far. I was struck by the tiny hands of my boys in the pictures from way back in 2007. One of them is now taller than me and the other is on his way. Time cruises on, but some recipes are tried and true and worth revisiting. (more…)
This is a Quesito (Ke-see-toe) and it is delicious. Seriously, it is so perfect in its simplicity; flaky puff pastry wrapped around sweetened cream cheese and buttery pineapple. And it’s beautiful, in a shabby chic kind of way, nothing fussy, just rustic goodness with a generous dusting of powdered sugar. The best thing is that you can whip this together in about 5 minutes and instantly satisfy your craving for something sweet. I’ve made them three times for breakfast since I returned from Puerto Rico. You see, I am desperately grasping to my memories of being there. I just returned, less than a week ago, and already I miss it. It was paradise, which is enough to make one long for its sandy shores, perfect weather, gorgeous waters, friendly people, and the discovery of Puerto Rican pastries like Mallorca and the quesitos. But, returning to Minnesota and having to shovel my car out from the snow, in APRIL, was frankly, more than I was mentally prepared to handle. So, I make quesitos, shut my eyes, hold a shell to my ear and pretend I am still lying on the beach.
You can too! (more…)
When I was a kid, in the 70s, my mom, my uncle, Jay, and I would go to a tiny Ukrainian restaurant on 2nd Ave in NYC called the Kiev. Finding a table was nearly impossible; I remember it being so crowded that we’d climb over people to get to our seats. Once we were situated, the waiter brought bread to the table. When the tower of challah came we could no longer see each other, which forced us to crane our bodies around this centerpiece to talk to one another. The crazy pile of delicious bread wasn’t even the main event. We were there for the blintzes. The slightly sweet, farmer cheese stuffed crepes. By the time they hit the table I was stuffed with challah, but I managed to eat everything in front of me. I loved that place and the feeling of leaving full, really full.
I just googled the Kiev to see if it is still there and I am sad to report that only a glossy reproduction exist. To me it was the tight, atmosphere-free dining room, stuffed to the rafters with blintz-eating patrons that made it special. I am disappointed that I will never get to take my boys. Instead I’ll make them blintzes at home. All that’s missing is a tower of challah (I’ll save that for another day) and the slightly surly servers, but my blintzes are well loved. The key is finding fresh farmers’ cheese, not the dry crumbly version. I use a crepe recipe from my sister-in-law, Maxine, who spent her high school and college years in France. Top the creamy blintzes with whatever you like or just eat them plain with a brush of butter, and maybe some sour cream.
I’m not sure if it is nature of nurture, but I am incapable of throwing away food. I suspect it comes from working in professional kitchens, where everything is used or money is lost. As a result I have scraps of all my baking projects in the freezer(s). Once in a while I go through and take inventory and try to use it up. Usually this happens around the time my husband is trying to fit something in there and can’t find an inch of room. This time I found several batches of waffles that I’d frozen over the past couple of months. I always intend to freeze them, like Eggo waffles, and just toast them for the boys in the morning. But, when it comes right down to it, I just can’t make myself do it. They just don’t toast up well. So, what to do with all these waffles I’d unearthed? Bread pudding. It is what I would do with leftover brioche and these are just as eggy and rich. The result was a delightful surprise and now a family favorite. Strawberry sauce and whipped cream on top and you have a breakfast fit for a king, or a son’s 10th birthday, which is exactly what I gave mine on his big day. (more…)