Rhubarb Crunch (and Grilled Pizza)

My eagerly anticipated relaxing (read: no plans) Memorial Day weekend changed as suddenly as the weather when, on Sunday, the DH and I found ourselves with a household of hungry dinner guests.  Having gotten wind of this invasion at noon, I prepared a batch of pizza dough to rise through the afternoon (and to grill later).  Dessert was no problem -- I was planning on making rhubarb crunch anyway and now I'd have a lot of eager eaters.

I have three recipes for rhubarb crunch in my collection; I selected the one that seemed the oldest, probably from the 1940s. It's a three-layer dessert -- a pie-like filling layered between a base and top.  This is really, really good and made a lovely breakfast treat the next morning.

Start by making the base and top -- which are made from the same mixture.  Combine raw oats, brown sugar, flour and cinnamon.  Add in one stick of melted butter.

 Press half of the mixture into a 9 x 9 inch pan, which has been well greased.

Next, place four cups of diced rhubarb on top of the base.

Now, prepare the sauce -- a cooked mixture of sugar, water, cornstarch and vanilla.  Although the instructions say to cook until it is clear, it never did get clear, perhaps on account of the vanilla.  I just cooked it until it was somewhat thickened and then poured it over the rhubarb.

After the sauce is poured, place the remaining oatmeal-sugar-flour mixture on top. Bake for one hour.

Pull from the oven and let cool.

This is very, very good with vanilla ice cream.  Luckily, our dinner guests were willing to walk to the corner store to buy some. (Plus, they wanted some beer.)

Dessert followed a dinner of free-form pizzas on the grill. (I'm sure there's a right way to do this, but I just prepared regular pizza dough, formed it into small pizzas and grilled.  After each is grilled, the toppings of choice are put on and the pizza is returned to the grill for a few moments.  We've done this both on charcoal and gas grills with great results.)

Our dinner guests, hungry in the kitchen...

And satiated, below.

Cinnamon Rhubarb Muffins

Rhubarb is one of those truly seasonal vegetables and, despite the wet and windy 45 degree temperatures in New York today, there are plenty of these red stalks at the farmer's market. So how better to warm up the chilly kitchen than to make these moist and delicious rhubarb muffins?

I have a lot of rhubarb dessert recipes in my collection for, while it has fallen somewhat out of favor these days, in the early- to mid-20th century -- before all manner of imported fruits were available year round -- rhubarb figured big into springtime desserts.  It is is naturally sour, and needs to be cooked and sweetened before eating.

The handwritten recipe is quite cryptic, so I've included the method I used.  These are simple to make and are not overly sweet. In fact, the rhubarb is quite tart and provides a very bright note.  The muffin batter is delicious and rich (the addition of sour cream is lovely), once again proving my theory that muffins are simply an excuse to eat cake in the morning.  As if anyone needs an excuse.

First, dice up the rhubarb.  You'll need 1.5 cups.  Then, if you're like me (unprepared) run to the corner store to get the sour cream.

Adding in the sour cream, below.

Spoon the batter in paper-lined muffin tins.  Don't worry about the uneven appearance  -- they will rise into perfectly shaped domes as they bake.

The recipe calls for sprinkling a cinnamon-sugar mix atop the batter.  Don't skip this step, as it adds some needed sweetness and beautiful color.

Cool the muffins on a rack.

The recipe card (just a list of ingredients, really) is below, followed by more detailed instructions.

Cinnamon Rhubarb Muffins

Batter:
1/4 C. unsalted butter (1/2 stick, room temperature)
1/2 C. firmly packed light brown sugar
2 large eggs
1 C. sour cream (8 oz. container)
1 1/2 C. all-purpose flour
3/4 t. baking soda
1/2 t. cinnamon
1 1/2 diced rhubarb

Topping:
1 T. granulated sugar
1/2 t. cinnamon

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.  Prepare one 12-muffin pan.

Cream butter and sugar until well mixed.  Add eggs, one and a time, mixing between additions.
Combine flour, cinnamon and baking soda in a small bowl.  Add 1/2 to the batter and mix.
Add the sour cream and mix.
Add remaining flour mixture and combine until well blended, taking care not to over mix.
Add rhubarb.

Spoon batter into prepared muffin tins.
Meantime, combine the topping ingredients and with your fingers or a spoon, sprinkle on top of batter.

Bake for abut 20 minutes.  Makes 12 muffins.

Bread Pudding

I'm back, after far too long away from my oven.  One reason excuse is that the DH and I spent a week in Paris, swapping apartments with a French family we "met" on craigslist.org.  We'd done this before and, like the last time, I returned to the surprising food remnants of the Parisians' stay in New York -- supermarket white bread and other items that I would never purchase.  (The first family we swapped with even left some Kraft American cheese!!)  We couldn't believe that while we were indulging in the most delicious cheese and bread ever, the French families had "enjoyed"  what I consider the lowest common denominator of American food.

And so, faced with a loaf of white bread and whole milk (which I never use, preferring to chew my calories), I made the only prudent decision -- to transform the leftovers into a delicious bread pudding.  This is the bread pudding of my dreams, rich and custard-y.  In fact, it was more liked baked custard than what we know today as bread pudding.

The recipe instructs "crumbling" the bread; most bread pudding recipes in the early- to-mid 20th century were were simply vehicles to "use up" stale bread.  But the super-preserved supermarket bread in my refrigerator was still fresh, so I cubed it.  It took about 3.5 slices to fill the three-cup measure.

The bread cubes and sugar are placed in a bowl and covered with the hot milk for ten minutes.

Two very well beaten eggs (below) are added to the mixture, along with salt, vanilla, lemon extract and melted butter.

The batter is very liquid-y.   Pour into an 8 x 8 (or similar size pan).  I lined it with aluminum foil, mostly to save clean-up time.

The bread pudding pan is then placed inside a larger one (below).  Add hot water to the larger pan (most easily accomplished after it is on the oven rack, to avoid spilling).  This water bath helps the custard cook at a more constant temperature, insuring a better result.

My custard did not come out perfectly, despite the water bath.  (It is a bit weepy, which may be hard to see in the photograph.) I got "involved" with Facebook while it was in the oven and let it bake a bit too long.  Still, it was delicious, even if the consistency was not absolutely perfect.

I had to let this bake for over one hour, not the 45 minutes called for, as it was still quite loose at that point.  The custard should jiggle a bit, but not be too firm. It will continue to bake as it cools in the hot liquid.  Remove from the pan, plate and add a sprinkling of cinnamon on top for both appearance and flavor.  And then, enjoy!

Chocolate Cupcakes, Settlement House Style

Yesterday, some very special visitors stopped by Henry Street Settlement, including someone who, as a young child, had actually met Lillian Wald, the visionary progressive reformer who founded the Settlement in 1893.  We were honored indeed to welcome our visitors into our historic dining room.  In anticipation, I decided to bake something from The Settlement Cook Book which, though published by a settlement house in Milwaukee, features many of the same immigrant foods served at Henry Street in the early 20th century.

It took just a minute to select a recipe from this 622-page tome, first published in 1901.  (My copy dates from 1936.)  I mean, what could be more welcoming than old-fashioned chocolate cupcakes?  I "cheated" and frosted them with a modern-day vanilla buttercream (from a Magnolia Bakery recipe).  But even topped with the creamy icing, the cupcakes looked too plain for our special guests -- until I remembered the gorgeous crystallized violets I had made this past weekend.  Et voila, the perfect petit fours!

The cupcakes are truly simple to make.  Mix the butter and sugar; add the egg and blend in one square of unsweetened, melted chocolate.

Alternately add the flour/baking soda mixture and buttermilk, starting and ending with the flour.

The batter will be rather thick, and I found it easier to pipe from a pastry bag with a round tip. I used mini-cupcake tins, but one pays for their adorableness with the extra time it takes to fill them.  Still, I think it's pretty good value.

I also piped the frosting, and then topped each with a violet, a task best done right after piping so that the violets adhere well.

The recipe is on the first page of the chapter entitled Small Cakes, Cookies, Kisses.

Instructions, more clearly, below (with a miner change):
Cream butter and sugar, add egg, and blend.  Mix in chocolate.  Add flour and baking soda (which have been mixed together) alternately with the buttermilk (sour milk) beginning and ending with the flour.  Place in small greased (or paper lined) muffin tins, bake in a 350 degree oven for 10 to 15 minutes.

Orange Bars (Delicious Party Cookies)

How could I resist a recipe whose title includes the words: Delicious Party Cookies.  So even though it was Sunday morning and my weekend partying was behind me, I decided to take the plunge.  Within an hour (did I mention how quick and easy these are), I was having a party in my mouth, albeit for breakfast.

I thought these were pretty good, but then Johanna, a work colleague who has sampled nearly all the desserts I bring in, called me up -- in the middle of a deadline -- to rave about these.  Maybe they're even better than I thought.  The orange zest is the frosting is not only decorative, but adds a flavor note that contrasts with the very sweet frosting.

Orange bars are three-layer bar cookies, but the base --  a shortbread-like confection -- isn't that distinct in the finished product.   The center is a soft pudding-like cake and the top is an orange-infused confectioners sugar based frosting.

The base is made like pie crust, i.e., the fat is cut into the flour.  A food processor makes quick work of this task.

 Place the mixture into a buttered pan...

and press it down into place with your hands or the back of a large spoon.

Bake it for about 20 minutes, or so.  The crucial information as to exact time is missing on the recipe card.

While the base is cooling, prepare the filling. Yes, it's true -- just put all the ingredients in a mixing bowl and combine.  This could not be simpler.

Pour the filling over the base and bake for about 25 minutes.

The frosting is also simple.  Place some confectioners sugar (no need to sift) in a bowl and add some orange juice "right for good spreading" reads the recipe card. Add some orange zest and spread the frosting atop the cooled cake.  (I used Cara Cara oranges, which have a reddish hue, and used the zest from an entire orange, but you can adjust to taste.)

The first few pieces are for the cook.

Crystallized Violets

If you're like me and have a patch of violets growing wild in your backyard and are looking for a quick and creative Sunday morning project (or are otherwise looking for an excuse to avoid real work), then by all means do pick the blossoms and crystallize them for future use.  Placed atop a cake, pie or pudding, these beauties will add a touch of sophistication to your dessert.

It couldn't be simpler.  All you need are the violets, an egg white, a small paint brush and some superfine sugar.  (This can be purchased, or you can just pulse regular sugar in the Cuisinart until it becomes, well, superfine.)

After you harvest the violets, "paint" each petal with the egg white and liberally sprinkle the sugar atop, making sure to cover all the petals.  That's it!  Leave them out to dry and store them in an airtight container until such time as you need to dress up a dessert.

My violet patch is below.  I'm told they're weeds, but you can't believe everything you hear.

These last two photos are courtesy of the DH, taken with a real camera (as opposed to my phone).