Blackberry Bread Pudding

I have a freezer confession. I don’t use it very well most of the time. The ice-maker comes in handy, of course, and I couldn’t live without the freezer for the short time ice cream spends in it until it’s gone. But, when I actually store things away for a later date, I always leave them to frost over in the dark, forgotten depths. At some point, I’ll reorganize the contents only to find parts and pieces of things I thought I’d use and never did. Those quail wings intended for a stock, the extra pasta dough that I might have rolled into ravioli, and the lima beans I didn’t have time to cook last fall but was sure I’d turn into a gratin some day, were never used. I may have finally turned a corner though. During our far too short blackberry season, I popped some berries in the freezer knowing I couldn’t possibly forget those little gems. Then, when I baked those brioche pastries and used the extra dough for a brioche loaf, the bread when into the freezer. I had a vision of blackberry bread pudding happening when the time was right, and I really did it this time. There’s an Apple-Apple Bread Pudding in Baking: From My Home to Yours made with caramelized apples and apple butter. In the side-note, Dorie suggests trying the same technique with other fruits and jam. My frozen blackberries were thawed and macerated with sugar, and my brioche loaf was sliced and spread with Confituras blackberry jam for this summery bread pudding version. 

At a cooking class I attended a few years ago, I learned something about bread pudding that completely changed my thinking about it. In that class, the bread pudding was made with corners of the bread intentionally sticking up out of the custard. That way, lots of edges became crispy while the lower parts of the bread absorbed the custard. It was the good mix of textures that I really liked, and now I always keep that in mind in making bread pudding. Here, the brioche loaf was sliced and the pieces were slightly toasted in the oven to dry them. Each piece was cut in half and then spread with blackberry jam. One layer of jam-coated bread slices was placed in the baking dish, and the sugar-macerated blackberries and juice were poured over the bread. The remaining bread was arranged on top, and a rich custard made with milk, cream, eggs, egg yolks, sugar, and vanilla was poured over all the bread. It was left to sit so the bread could soak in the custard for about half an hour before it was baked. For baking, the dish was placed in a roasting pan and both went into a 325 degree F oven. Boiling water was poured into the roasting pan to come half-way up the side of the baking dish, and the bread pudding baked for an hour and 25 minutes. 

After it cooled for a bit, the pudding was easy to cut into wedges of custard-filled bread layered with jam and fruit. I served it with bourbon whipped cream and sliced peaches, and the crunchy tops and tender lower layers were delightful. Maybe I should start leaving notes for myself about what’s been shoved into the freezer. Or, maybe I just always need a really good plan like this one for what gets stored, and then I’ll surely make good on it. 

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Rye Crust Blackberry Tartlets

Every time I leave the house lately, I return with more berries. I can’t stop myself. The season is too short here. Strawberries make a brief appearance at farmers’ markets, and blackberries come and go almost as quickly. When I see them, I grab them. The last bag full of blackberries I brought home were destined for little, rustic tartlets, and I knew I’d find a good option for the crusts in Good to the Grain. There’s a Rustic Rye Dough that’s used for Apricot Boysenberry Tarts in the book, and that was just the kind of whole grain dough I had in mind. The dough is made like a rough puff pastry. It’s rolled into a rectangle, folded into thirds like a letter, turned and rolled and folded two more times before being chilled. The result was flaky crusts with the added flavor of whole grain rye flour that made nice containers for fresh blackberries mixed with berry jam.

I mixed the dough by hand, but it could also be made in a food processor. Rye flour, all-purpose flour, a little sugar, and salt were sifted together in a bowl. Cold butter was worked into the flour mixture, and then apple cider vinegar and ice water were added. At that point, the dough was wrapped in plastic wrap and chilled for an hour. Next, the dough was rolled into a rectangle and folded into thirds. For the first fold, the dough was a little crumbly, but it came together during the next turns and folds. The seam of the folded dough was turned 90 degrees, and it was rolled into a rectangle and folded again. This was repeated one more time before wrapping the dough in plastic and chilling it again. While the dough chilled, the blackberries were combined with some berry jam. Since I was making little tartlets, I worked with half the dough at a time, rolled it out, and cut it into five-inch circles. The blackberry and jam mixture was spooned into the center of each dough circle, and the dough was gathered around the fruit. The tartlets were placed on a baking sheet which went into the freezer before being baked. Just before going into the oven, the tartlet edges were brushed with egg wash, a mix of turbinado sugar and cinnamon was sprinkled on the egg wash, and I added a few thyme leaves.

For serving, I topped the tartlets with fresh thyme sprigs from my herb garden for a pop of green on the sticky, dark, blackberry filling. I’ll still have blueberries for a bit when the local blackberries are gone. And, when all of this year’s berries are gone and I can no longer get my fix, at least there will still be peaches.

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Blackberry Buckwheat Tea Cake

Early spring means strawberries, and the season for them is short here. Strawberries have always been my favorite fruit, but this year, they had a contender. Blackberries start showing up at farmers’ markets at the tail end of strawberry season, and they only make a few appearances before they’re gone for another year. I started looking for them about a week too early wanting to make sure I didn’t miss them. Then, at last, on a Saturday morning a couple of weeks ago, there they were in baskets all lined up and waiting, looking juicy, perfectly ripe, and ready for dessert. No disrespect to the strawberries, but I was just more eager for blackberries this year. I’d been reading the review copy I received of Farmers' Market Desserts by Jennie Schacht, and the Basket of Berries chapter had given me several good ideas. Just about any berries can be used in these desserts even though several are shown with strawberries. The strawberries and cream roll cake looked good as did the mixed berry pavlovettes with lemon-lime cream. But, when I read the recipe for the strawberry buckwheat tea cake and learned that it was made with browned butter, my decision was made. I used those prized blackberries instead of strawberries of course. The inspiration for this tea cake was strawberry and buckwheat pancakes. By adding browned butter to the cake batter, it becomes reminiscent of a buttery stack of pancakes. There’s also thick yogurt in the cake giving it great texture.

The first step of this recipe is aromatherapy in the form of browning butter. One stick was melted and then swirled in the pan as it became nutty-smelling and more delicious by the minute. That was left to cool while AP flour, buckwheat flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt were combined. Then, Greek yogurt, eggs, and vanilla were added to the butter, and that mixture was stirred into the dry ingredients. Last, the precious blackberries were folded into the batter, and the batter was spread in a square baking pan. Now, some of the berries were to be set aside and tossed with sugar so the juices would start running, and then the berries and resulting juice could be used to top the whipped cream served on the pieces of cake. I have a thing about not wanting much sugar with my berries because I like them just the way they are with a little tartness peeking through here and there. So, I left the remaining berries plain and there were no running juices to drip over the whipped cream. I did, however, follow the suggestion at the beginning of the book to add creme fraiche to the whipped cream.

The book offers ideas for fresh fruit from every season as well as dried fruits and nuts. There’s a first-prize peach pie that promises to deliver a perfect proportion of crust to filling. There’s also a sweet cornmeal cake made with fresh corn kernels and berries that I have to try while I can get local corn, and I’ve already made one of the ice cream desserts that I’ll post soon. This book may make you eager for certain growing seasons to arrive, but when they finally do, you’ll have some great desserts to make.

Blackberry Gratin

While I was making dinner from Sunday Suppers at Lucques, I noticed a simple, summery dessert that I could whip up at the same time. And, coming to think of it, I never do that. I never set out to make a meal including dessert all in one go. Dessert, or most of it depending on what it is, is always made in advance, but this one really is easy enough to prepare right along with dinner. It’s a custard with creme fraiche that’s poured over berries and then gratineed under the broiler. Once browned, it can sit patiently at room temperature while you enjoy your main course. Now speaking of that browning step, I’ve noticed that organic sugar doesn’t behave quite the same as regular sugar. In this case, confectioner’s sugar was suggested, and I used an organic brand, and I don’t think it browned as well as it could have. Deborah Madison confirmed the fact in her book Seasonal Fruit Desserts that for browning or bruleeing, regular sugar works better, but I’m not sure why that is. At any rate, these little desserts only sit under the broiler long enough to become bubbly and a little browned, so it didn’t matter much here.

An easy custard was made with warmed milk slowly whisked into a mixture of egg yolks, sugar, and cornstarch. That was returned to a saucepan and thickened. Butter and salt were added while it was warm, and then the custard was chilled in the refrigerator for a bit. Once cool, creme fraiche was folded into it. In the book, the dessert is made with raspberries, but I had blackberries, and any kind of berries or really just about any fruit would work. In the intro to the recipe, sauteed apples or pears with dried fruit is suggested for a winter version of this. The blackberries were tossed with a little granulated sugar and then scattered in ramekins in my case. The dessert can also be made in one, larger gratin dish. The custard was spooned over the berries, more berries were placed on top, confectioner’s sugar was sifted over each ramekin, and they were placed under the broiler for about seven minutes. I dusted them with a little more confectioner’s sugar before serving.

What you get is a warm, vanilla pudding with a partially browned, set surface, rich, tangy flavor from creme fraiche, and warm, juicy berries. If you wanted to do what I usually do which is to have dessert mostly ready long before I start tackling dinner preparations, you could just refrigerate the gratins until you’re ready to broil them right before serving. Either way, it’s a simple dessert that has me looking forward to other seasonal variations.

Blackberry and Peach Crostata

When I saw the mixed berry crostata on LAtimes.com the other day, I started getting ideas. I had just bought some blackberries and peaches at the farmers’ market, and those two things are in season at the same time for good reason. I couldn’t wait to put them together in a simple, rustic kind of tart. The crostata dough from the LA Times is adapted from one by Nancy Silverton of Mozza. It’s a fairly straightforward pastry, but it includes a tablespoon of vanilla extract. I was sold. I’ve added nuts or lemon zest to dough before, but I had never thought of adding vanilla to pastry. With fresh, ripe, juicy peaches and just picked blackberries, a nice crust to contain them is all you really need.

I did go to the trouble of peeling the peaches this time although I often leave skins intact. It’s a simple procedure of bringing a pot of water to a boil, placing the peaches in the boiling water for about 45 seconds, and then transferring the peaches to ice water. Then, the skins slip right off when pulled with a paring knife. The peeled and sliced peaches and washed and dried blackberries were mixed with a little sugar and some cornstarch, and the filling was ready. The crostata dough was made in a food processor with all-purpose flour, cake flour, sugar, and salt, and chopped, cold butter was pulsed into that mixture. It was actually pulsed to a finer state than I usually mix a pastry dough. It was suggested to process until it resembled moist cornmeal. Ice water and vanilla extract were added, and then the dough was wrapped in plastic and chilled for a bit. For rolling out the dough, it was recommended that it be left kind of thick which is a good idea when juicy, fresh fruit is involved. The edges were rolled in over the fruit, and I brushed on an egg wash and sprinkled coarse sugar on the dough. The crostata baked for about 40 to 45 minutes until the fruit juices were bubbly and the crust was golden.

Sure, some ice cream or whipped cream wouldn’t be out of place here at all, but I was so excited about my first use of blackberries and peaches this season that I enjoyed the crostata with no added embellishment. This wasn’t a flaky, layered kind of pastry crust, but it was golden and crisp on top and tender in the center. With the flavor of vanilla throughout, it was a fine vehicle for the mixed fruit and thickened juices. If you have some ripe berries or other seasonal fruit on hand, consider using it in a crostata with this pastry dough, or try adding vanilla to your usual dough recipe for lovely added flavor.

Cider-Glazed Apple Muffins with Blackberries

Is it just me, or have there been an awfully lot of tempting apple cakes out there lately? I’ve wanted to try them all, but I knew what would happen if I had an entire, big apple cake in this house. It would disappear too quickly, and I would need to spend a lot more time in running shoes. When I found this recipe for apple muffins, it seemed like a perfect compromise. Kurt loves muffins for breakfast, and a few could go into the freezer for a later date. The other part of this story is that one of those cake recipes that is tempting me involves apples and blackberries. When I found some fresh blackberries from Mexico at the grocery store, I had to add them to the tops of these muffins. I found the recipe on Epicurious, and it’s from the September 1997 issue of Gourmet.

My only changes to the original recipe were to bake the muffins at regular size rather than as mini muffins and to top them with blackberries. I left the apple chunks slightly bigger than one-quarter inch pieces and didn’t chop the walnuts fine either, but no big changes. While the muffins were baking, apple cider was simmered until reduced to a syrup. When the muffins were removed from the oven, they were poked on top with a skewer and then brushed with the syrup.

With apple chunks, walnuts, apple cider, and blackberries in the muffins, these were full of delicious. The syrup glaze on top kept the muffins moist and gave them a little shine. The walnuts were particularly nice with the flavor of apples and cider. This was a practical choice for satisfying my apple cake craving, but that doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind and bake a big, full cake in the very near future.

Pastel Vasco with Blackberry Compote

Last week at the farmers’ market, I bought some summery-perfect blackberries, and in my mind, I saw them swirled into some kind of cake. It could be argued that I have a mess of recipes that flit through my head on occasions such as this. You see, I knew that I had cut out a page from an old issue of Saveur with a blackberry cake made by Tamasin Day-Lewis, and I also knew I had read about a blackberry cornmeal cake somewhere else. When I got the blackberries home and safely stowed in the refrigerator, I started flipping through files and books, and the cake from Saveur, while tempting, was somehow more complicated than I remembered and seemed more like an end of summer treat. The cornmeal cake didn’t look quite how I remembered it either, and then like a certain bear in a fairy tale, I found a recipe that looked just right. In Sunday Suppers at Lucques, there is this rich and lovely pound cake of Basque origin with a blackberry compote baked into the center of it and served poured over it as well. That was it. Those berries were destined to become a pound cake.

The cake was made with 14 tablespoons of melted butter and four eggs. It was not lacking in richness. It also contained dark rum, vanilla, almond extract, and orange juice. It was baked in a loaf pan, and just before the pan was placed in the oven, the cake surface was brushed with an egg ash and sprinkled with a handful of sugar. Said surface puffed beautifully while baking and emerged crackled and glistening. For the compote, caramel was made with sugar, water, and scrapings from one vanilla bean, and then half of the blackberries were added to the caramel. Brandy was also to have been added, but I was out of brandy, and this is where things got interesting. I used bourbon instead and thereby made the discovery that the flavor of bourbon with that of blackberries is quite wonderful. I’m sure brandy would have been great too, but at some point consider making a blackberry compote with bourbon because I’m now thinking up excuses to mix those two items together as often as possible. So, some blackberries went into the caramel and cooked until they released their juices. Then, the caramel mixture was strained into a bowl. The liquid went back into the saucepan on the stove and was thickened with a cornstarch slurry. The thickened sauce was then combined with the strained cooked berries and the remaining uncooked berries, and half of that combination was layered into the cake batter in the loaf pan while the other half of it was used for serving.

The recipe didn’t end there. This wasn’t just a pound cake and compote. Thick slices of the pound cake were buttered and toasted on a griddle before being served. Cream was suggested for serving along with the compote, but I didn’t feel like that was even necessary. I didn’t think the buttering and toasting was necessary either because the cake looked fantastic just as it was. I went ahead with the toasting just for fun, and the result was almost french toast-like on the cut surface. It did add another dimension to the flavors and textures of the dessert, but I have to say the cake held its own quite well when I skipped that step the next day. It’s a pound cake that can be elevated to another level of dessert indulgence, or it can be enjoyed one simple slice at a time, and the blackberry bourbon compote does no wrong either way.