17 and Baking turns two years old this week. I almost missed it.

In the past, I spent afternoons alone in the kitchen, flour dusting my palms and lots of quiet thoughts in my head. Afterwards I wrote about the baking process, my love for fresh ingredients, the joy of brainstorming desserts and sharing them with my family. I had more ideas than photographs.

I went a record-breakingly long time without posting as of today. Looking at my life it’s clear why I’m struggling to blog. Though I’m happier than ever, I’m living between sips of coffee and half hour power-naps. The biggest issue is that I haven’t been baking. At all. I use photographs of desserts I baked last summer to keep this blog running. While there’s a trunk of baking supplies beneath my bed and a working oven in the dorm building down the street, I haven’t used it once this year.

Over Thanksgiving and winter break, reunited with family, I obligingly creamed butter and whipped cream, but frankly, much of the magic was gone. I’ve never lost my passions for writing, photography and baking, but my weariness shows. I’m scared that 17 and Baking is in decline, that I’m losing something I consider such an important part of myself.

My boyfriend I-’s birthday was a few Fridays ago. He wanted to go up to Maine and spend several days with his family, and at the last minute I went along too.

“You’ll be able to bake,” he said, convincing me to come.

I was nervous to meet his parents and sister and his friends, more nervous than I wanted to let on. But for the first time in a long time, I was excited to make something for his birthday. That outburst of butterflies in my chest was so comfortingly familiar, so nearly forgotten, it was almost painful.

The next afternoon we drove to the local grocery store. I’m not used to buying staples at once – usually I have all the basic ingredients on hand, though I might need more chocolate slabs or an unusual spice. We picked up flour, sugar, heavy cream, local homemade butter. But I couldn’t decide what to make. I hadn’t flipped through a cookbook or wanted to make something in so long, and I actually felt out of my element in the baking aisle.

I- kept making suggestions, and I kept shooting them down. The possibilities were overwhelming. “You have to pick something,” he said finally as we wheeled the cart around the entire store for the third or fourth time. “Make a pecan pie.”

Why not?

We threw pecans into the cart. “Maybe some walnuts?” I- was holding another bag. “Those might be good with the pecans.” Into the cart. “Milk chocolate toffee bits? In the pie? Yes?” Yes. He kept smiling whenever he saw me start to smile back.

I don’t always like getting a million suggestions from someone else when it comes to baking, but I didn’t mind. Even when he paused at the end of the aisle and added, “You should put in some coconut.” I know my dad will picture my usual eye-roll and heavy sigh but instead I said, “Why not?”

I watched every bag, carton, box pass across the scanner and pack into shopping bags. I helped carry them to the car trunk. At the house, I arranged them on the counter and stared for a good minute. It felt unreal.

I winged a good deal of the recipe, just throwing things in. I-’s mom and sister popped in a few times to see how I was making the pie totally from scratch. There was a moment when the crust was in the freezer and the nuts were all chopped in a bowl and suddenly I felt like I was breathing for the first time in months.

I-’s family and I ate dinner together as the pie cooled in the kitchen. When the plates were cleared, I’-s dad went next door to borrow a bit of bourbon so I could make bourbon whipped cream. I beat the cream to stiff peaks, folded in the bourbon, and cut the pie. I could feel my heart thumping and the heat rising to my cheeks as the first slices made it to the table, so nervous. What if it wasn’t good? What if I was really, really out of practice?

“Oh my gosh,” somebody said, and round 2 of pie became a reality.

Later I- and I brought a wedge of pie over to the neighbors, along with some whipped cream. It turned out the bourbon was decades old, saved from a wedding. I couldn’t believe something so special had been opened and shared. When I- and I headed back to his house, I kept hoping the pie would be delicious, wanting them to get as much happiness from it as possible.

None of the whipped cream survived the night, but in the morning, I pulled out the Canon and shot some food photography for the first time in too long.

An out-of-the-blue pecan pie, dropped into my life weeks before 17 and Baking turns two. There are a lot of things I love about this pie – it’s sophisticated and rustic, unfussy with complex flavors. It isn’t overly sweet or sticky and there’s no light corn syrup involved. I love that my boyfriend came up with most of it. I love that it was shared and gobbled up embarrassingly fast. In so many ways, this pie reminded me of why I love to bake and why I’ll continue to blog.

Happy birthday, 17 and Baking. Eat some pie.

No light corn syrup! The resulting pie isn’t as sturdy to slice as others, but it’s a lot less sticky and sugary. It wasn’t soupy at all, a pitfall some pecan pies fall into. It helps that the pie filling is nestled between a flaky, buttery crust and a not-too-sweet whipped cream jazzed up with bourbon.

The toffee bits we found were from Hershey’s, in the baking section. You could replace them with chocolate chips or leave them out completely, but I thought they added something special and different to the pie.

When I considered the coconut flakes, I didn’t want the pie to become too sweet. We got sweetened coconut flakes (and besides, it’s so hard to find unsweetened ones in the average grocery store.) I discovered a way to “unsweeten” sweetened coconut flakes, and while it isn’t a perfect substitute, it works in a pinch.

Place the sweetened coconut flakes in a sieve rinse with very hot water, until all the sugar washes off. Squeeze out the excess liquid with your hands and spread the flakes out on a flat sieve or paper towel. When they dry they’ll be un-sweetened and fluffy again.

Coconut Pecan “Why Not” Pie with Walnuts and Toffee
Makes a 9″ pie
A 17 and Baking original

Crust
1 stick cold butter, cut into small pieces
1 ½ cups flour
1 ½ tablespoons sugar
4 tablespoons ice water

Filling
2 eggs
½ cup butter, melted and cooled to room temperature
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1 tablespoon flour
1 tablespoon milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup chopped pecans
½ cup chopped walnuts
1 cup unsweetened coconut flakes
½ cup chocolate toffee bits

Bourbon Whipped Cream
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon bourbon

To make the crust, stir the flour and sugar together in the bowl of a mixer. Use the paddle to beat the butter in, cutting it until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs (you can also do this in a food processor or by hand with a pastry blender or fork.) Dribble in the water while stirring the mixture until the dough clumps. Gently knead a few times until the dough forms a ball. Flatten into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap, and chill 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Roll the dough out into a circle and press into a 9″ glass pie pan. Freeze for half an hour.

To make the filling, lightly beat the eggs in a medium bowl. Stir in the melted butter, which should be cooled to room temperature. Mix in the sugar, flour, milk, and vanilla extract. Mix the pecans, walnuts, coconut and toffee bits together in a large bowl, then combine with the egg mixture. Pour into the unbaked 9” pie crust and top with pretty pecan halves. Bake at 350 degrees F for 15 minutes, then lower the oven temperature to 300 degrees F and bake for another 55 minutes, or until crust is golden and top has gently cracked. Cool to room temperature.

To make the bourbon whipped cream, whip the heavy cream by hand or with an electric mixer until soft peaks form. Gradually beat in the sugar and continue to whip until stiff peaks form. Gently fold in the bourbon with a heavy spatula. Refrigerate until using and dollop on the slices of pie.

Printer-Friendly Recipe – Coconut Pecan “Why Not” Pie with Walnuts and Toffee

This morning I woke up with an inexplicable craving for bubble tea.

Instead I ate a bowl of cereal and made it to class barely on time. I took notes, asked questions, and when I walked out the door, it felt like October instead of mid February. The temperature flirted with the low 40s. Cause for celebration! I wore a flowery skirt, smiled at strangers, and I still wanted bubble tea.

I didn’t even drop off my bags. I walked straight from the classroom, down the street into Boston’s Chinatown, knowing exactly what I was looking for.

A few weeks before Halloween, when I was still in the process of making friends in a big new world, my floormate M- and I decided to get lunch. We’re both half Asian, and we both missed Chinese food, so we headed into Chinatown together.

Chinatown is squeezed between Downtown Crossing and the South End. It’s small, but dense, stuffed with grocery stores, jewelry shops, and narrow brick alleyways. Heaps of snow stay frozen solid in the shadows of tall buildings pressed close together. Cars honk. The edges of sidewalks are congested with scraps of packaging and cigarette butts, and you can’t see what’s around the corner until you actually turn, but what can I say? I love Chinatowns. They’ve got a character you can’t quite capture anywhere else.

M- and I didn’t know where to get good food, so we explored until we found a tiny but promising café. There were no tables, just a laminated menu taped to a counter and a long line. We ordered rice, barbeque chicken, pork buns, and why not – two coconut bubble teas.

The food was good, but the bubble tea was the star of the meal. Thick and fragrant, it used coconut cream, not powder. Every sip tasted tropical and real – like a spoon scraped against the white walls of a split coconut – as opposed to the suntan lotion taste of most imitations. It was good enough to remember months later.

I could recall the bubble tea fairly well, but I had no idea how to get there. I wandered into Chinatown and made lefts and rights at random, ending up on crooked side streets lined with shops like uneven teeth. Just when I was about to give up, I recognized the sign, innocently tucked between a row of restaurant windows. I ran through a puddle of melted snow and across the empty street, yanked open the door and bought myself a bubble tea.

It didn’t even survive the trip home. Not a big surprise, considering I got lost on the way back. I’ll have to adventure into Chinatown walkabout-style every time I want to rediscover this bubble tea, but I think it’s a worthwhile experience.

Back when I worked at Seastar Restaurant, with chefs all around me baking chocolate molten cakes and slow-cooking cedar plank salmon, coconut was my favorite smell in the entire restaurant. We’d spread flakes of coconut on a baking sheet and toast them, later to be sprinkled over the white chocolate coconut cream pie. After mere minutes in the oven, the most seductive smell wafted down the line. No matter what I was doing, I’d start to work in a daze, dreaming of paradise.

I can’t understand when people say they hate coconut. I can, however, see why some people don’t like coconut macaroons. Too often they’re over-the-top sweet and gluey.

But when you find a good macaroon you get something special. The cookie is light and chewy, with toasty crisp edges. The coconut flavor is pure, not masked by sugar. A dip in dark chocolate adds richness without cloying sweetness. It’s dynamite. How could you not want more?

[Writing, baking, photographing. Blogging. Waitressing. Radio-ing. A second job with the admissions office at my school. Homework. ...Sleep? I don't know how I managed to make second semester even busier than my first, but I'm really trying. Thanks for sticking through with me!]

Another good thing about macaroons – they’re one of the easiest desserts to make on a whim. They only require a few ingredients and a couple of steps. The most time consuming part of the process was forming the pyramid-shaped macaroons, but it’s minimal effort to push the edges of coconut up into a triangle.

Also, don’t overlook the almond extract. It’s strong stuff, to be used in small doses, but it adds a special something to an already wonderful cookie.

Chocolate Dipped Coconut Macaroons
Adapted from Bon Appetit via Orangette
Makes a dozen large macaroons

3 cups lightly packed sweetened shredded coconut
1/2 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup egg whites (about 5 or 6 large whites)
1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
6 oz bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1/2 cup + 1 tablespoon heavy cream

Combine the coconut, sugar, and egg whites in a large, heavy saucepan. Stir over medium-low heat for about 10-12 minutes, or until the mixture is pasty but not dry. Over time, the mixture gets somewhat creamy, then begins to dry out – remove from heat when it is no longer creamy, but sticky rather than dry. Mix in the extracts. Spread the coconut mixture into a thin layer on a sheet pan and refrigerate until cold, about 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or Silpat. Pack the coconut mixture into a 1/4 measuring cup or scoop. You can pack them into domes, or use your fingers to press them into pyramids. Bake until golden, about 30 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.

Heat the heavy cream in a small saucepan until it steams. Remove the pan from heat and add the bittersweet chocolate. Whisk until the chocolate is fully melted and the mixture is smooth. Dip cookies in the chocolate (or spoon chocolate over them) and set on a parchment-lined sheet. Chill in the fridge until the chocolate sets, about 2 hours. Then store the macaroons in the fridge in an airtight container.

Printer-Friendly Recipe – Coconut Macaroons

Even as a little kid, I liked flying home. Not the chaos of the security checks, the trip itself, or even the weary drive back to our house. But I love that first step outside SeaTac Airport. When I exit the airport after hours of flight and days of vacation – I breathe in the Pacific Northwest air as slowly and deliberately as I can. No matter where I’ve been or how much I enjoyed myself, that first breath always tastes like the freshest, cleanest air I’ve ever known.

My flight back from Boston was forgettable. I took a taxi from my school at 5 am, spent a two hour layover in Chicago, and finally made it to Seattle after 12 hours. As tired as I was, I anticipated the step outside. I usually get this incredible emotion, a mix of contentment and familiarity, a rush of glassy lakes and painted mountains. I dragged my suitcase outside with me, looked out at the flat grey sky, and inhaled.

But… nothing.

Instead, there was something else – a strange feeling I couldn’t place. It sat in my chest, somewhat uncomfortably, even as the Toyota pulled up and I saw my mother for the first time since summer.

When we came home, the first thing I did was walk to the kitchen. I expected fireworks to burst in my heart, rainbows to pump through my veins and surge out my fingertips when we reunited. Nothing had changed in my absence. The walls were the same marigold yellow, the same checkerboard tile covered the floor, but somehow it wasn’t the kitchen I’d remembered and missed. It looked cramped and dim, hardly big enough for three people and two dogs.

I wheeled my bag into my old room, pulled out my Boston sweatshirt, and fell asleep without unpacking.

Over the next few days, I saw Grandma and my parents, which made me feel like daybreak inside. Almost at once I caught up with old friends, a both strange and easy experience. But during the afternoon, with no classes or job to distract me, I got bored. If I wasn’t asleep, I suffered from bad headaches all day. And that uncomfortable feeling lodged in my chest hadn’t vanished.

By now, I’ve figured out what the feeling is… homesickness. I know it’s ridiculous to feel homesick for school when I’m home. I also see how pointless it is to wallow in sadness, pining for Boston, while I have three weeks left in this beautiful place. If I don’t appreciate the rain, family, and happiness I can only find in Seattle, I’ll regret it a month later when I’m gone.

The solution for the headaches didn’t come in Tylenol. It’s a healthy combination of Mom’s noodle soup, Dad’s sweater hugs, damp dog paws all over my bed and the tug of a camera strap. It’s a sifting of flour on my apron and cinnamon dust on my palms. It’s not exactly a bitter pill to swallow.

One of the best things about being home is the food. Predictable, but it isn’t even the food as much as the ingredients. There are the luxury items I haven’t bought in college – all natural creamy peanut butter, the kind you have to stir up before spreading. Soft handmade tortillas, brown rice, even almonds! It’s a joyful thing to appreciate a quick handful of almonds before dinner. And produce! Even in winter, at home I’m eating crisp spinach and sweet Asian pears.

The school menu never changes, and most of the fruit comes out of a can, soaked in sugary syrup. At home, every flavor is amplified. The grapefruit I sliced with my first breakfast back was so clean and fresh, the sharpest thing I’d tasted in ages. After I devoured it, I thought about citrus the rest of the day. I’ve been drinking grapefruits the way parched survivors reach for water.

Reacquainting myself with our kitchen is like slipping into a familiar song. Every measuring cup is where I know it’ll be. Pans still clink and clatter in our cupboard, and that old bag of shredded coconut still has some life in it. The microplane zester, still my favorite tool in the room, is just as sharp as ever. The result? Coconut-Grapefruit Cupcakes with Matcha Frosting.

Even baked into a cupcake, the grapefruit manages to refresh. It’s light and zingy, pairing beautifully with the sweetness of coconut. And the frosting? I wanted something mellow and subtle, and the green tea powder I bought from Pike Place Market over the summer was just the right touch.

When I opened that oven door, the warm air that surged up was so fragrant and sweet. I was caught off guard by how hot it was, and how good it felt against the oven mitt. Later, in bed, I rolled over and pressed my nose into my hair – it smelled like sugar. It was one of the best smells I’d almost forgotten.

I think I’ll bake again tomorrow.

[It's good to be back. See you in 2011!]

Coconut-Grapefruit Cupcakes
Adapted from Martha Stewart
Makes 21 cupcakes

1 3/4 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup sweetened shredded coconut, finely chopped
1 1/2 sticks (6 oz) unsalted butter, softened
1 1/4 cups sugar
Zest of 2 grapefruits
2 large eggs + 2 large egg whites
3/4 cup unsweetened coconut milk
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line cupcake tins with paper liners.

Whisk the flour, baking powder, salt, and coconut together in a large bowl. In an electric mixer, cream the butter, sugar, and grapefruit zest until light and fluffy. Add the egg whites one at a time, beating well between whites.

On low speed, add the dry ingredients in 3 additions, alternating with the coconut milk and ending with the dry ingredients. Fill the cupcake tins 2/3 full and bake until a toothpick comes out clean, about 20 minutes. Cool on wire racks before frosting.

Matcha Frosting
Adapted from Savory Sweet Life

1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, softened
2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon matcha (green tea powder)
Pinch of salt
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 tablespoons milk or heavy cream

Beat the butter in an electric mixer with the paddle attachment on medium speed for a few minutes. Add the powdered sugar and matcha. Stir on the lowest speed possible (or give it a few turns first by hand to avoid sugar flying everywhere) until the sugar’s incorporated into the butter. Then beat on medium speed and add the vanilla extract and salt. Beat for 3 minutes, then beat in a tablespoon of milk, adding more (or less) if necessary. More milk will make a thinner frosting, more sugar will make a stiffer frosting.

Printer-Friendly Version – Coconut-Grapefruit Cupcakes with Matcha Frosting

I’m sitting in the dining hall, eating breakfast in the same black collared button-up and black slacks that I wore to work yesterday. Last night, long after midnight, after I finally staggered out of the elevator and fumbled with the key to my door, I was too tired to change out of my server’s clothes before I crashed into bed. This morning, up bright and early, I was too tired to change into anything else.

I’ve had a little experience in the restaurant industry, but working front of the house is an entirely different animal. It’s exhausting. I remember orientation, trying to remember how all the buttons on the computer worked and the numbering of the tables. They gave me two weeks of shadowing to get used to the lay of the land, and I couldn’t like the people I work with more.

My first non-training day was earlier this week. For the first time, I’d have my own section. “Elissa” would be printed on top of all of my receipts. And I’d take home any tips I made. I tied my apron straps into a bow and stepped through the kitchen doors onto the floor.

The first thing I noticed was that my shoes weren’t broken in yet. It takes a little adjustment to get used to being on your feet a whole shift. As a server, you don’t have much time to sit around and lounge. If you aren’t running plates, bussing tables or putting in orders, there is always side work to do – scoop ice into the water pitchers, refill the coffee thermos, work the bakery, restock napkins. You learn not to sit down. And on that first day, I felt it in my soles.

I needed to keep everything in place. This is a skill that doesn’t come naturally to me, the ability to juggle five tables which all expect you to make them your first priority. I began to forget which table came in first, who ordered what, whether Table 5 wanted the decaf refill or the check. As the rush set in and my tables filled up, my mind became more and more jumbled, until everything was one overwhelming noise that never quieted.

You get used to smiling. Even though your shoes are slowly killing you. Even though you messed up 12’s order and you know they aren’t happy, even though the kids at 8 will ask a million questions and probably order nothing but hot chocolate. As a server, you need to be upbeat. You can’t let a bad afternoon show in your face, because it’s not about you – it’s about making every guest feel welcome and at ease, and when it really comes down to it, that’s so much more important than a tip.

I did the best I could my first day, and it wasn’t perfect. Or even close. I sent one table a free crème brûlée because I’d made a mistake with their order, and they’d waited patiently forever. At another table, the couple ordered a full out meal – drinks, soup, salad, dinner, and dessert – ringing up an enormous bill and leaving me with a tip of zero dollars, zero cents. A four-top of teenaged boys left me under 10%.

I pushed through the swinging door with a plate of dirty glasses to bus. At the dish pit, with three servers all working around each other, somebody stumbled, and a stream of dirty dishwater splashed through my collared shirt and down my leg, pressing the cloth against my skin in a cool drench. I didn’t have a change of clothes, or the time anyway. I walked back onto the floor to bring in another tray, and on the way to the kitchen, my wrist gave out and I dropped a towering stack of plates.

Every fork stilled, every face turned, and even though the background music continued to play, for a moment the restaurant stopped. I didn’t know the room could go silent.

It was rough. Nearing the end of the night I was so frustrated; I was trying with everything I had but I couldn’t make excuses. On top of everything, I would leave almost empty handed, with little more than a few callouses. I couldn’t bring myself to think about the homework I had left.

Closing drew near. The restaurant slowed to a trickle and we tackled the side work and remaining tables. One of my bosses, C-, called me over to the bar. I didn’t know what else could have gone wrong.

I almost couldn’t handle it. An ice cream sundae, filled to burst and topped with a ridiculous amount of brightly-lit rainbow candles.

“Blow out the bad juju,” she said. I blew out the candles.

In the back room, I dipped a spoon into the ice cream sundae and almost wanted to cry. The pastry chef, M-, had made it exactly the way I liked – with scoops of vanilla, coffee, and chocolate ice cream, chocolate and caramel sauce, almonds, brownie bits, a beehive swirl of whipped cream and a clown red cherry. I could only eat a couple bites before I had to go back to work, but nothing could have tasted better.

I tried to thank M- as I walked by, but nothing came out. She had a ridiculous smile on her face. And I pulled myself up and finished out my tables with a smile, and walked home with a pocketful of blown-out candles.

Next week, those callouses will have made me stronger. My shoes will feel a little softer. But until then, I’ll throw myself into my essay and wrap up my radio package, trying unsuccessfully to get my mind off of chocolate and ice cream.

[PS I'm falling behind, I know, but I'm doing my best. It's a struggle to find time to eat and sleep, but blogging is like breathing, and I'll continue to work it in whenever I have a minute.]

These molten cakes were so good. What I love about them is that you can just keep them in the fridge until you’re ready to have one – just pop it into the oven. They’re quick to make, incredibly rich, and just un-set in the middle.

Half for the sake of time (I’m avoiding my honors essay as I blog this) and half because I didn’t change anything about it, I won’t reprint the molten cake recipe. Instead, you can see it for yourself here on Epicurious.

As for the sherbet, it’s something I came up with based on what I had around. Instead of coconut milk, it uses milk steeped with dried shredded coconut – an idea inspired by the blog Desert Candy. I loved it because of the beautifully sweet fragrance that clouded over the pan, and because of the more intense flavor than coconut milk from a can. The flavor profile is inspired by a hibiscus sorbet I had back in Seattle with my good friend A-, who had never tasted anything like it and was instantly smitten.

Dried hibiscus flowers look like gnarled, gorgeously pink leaves. I like to eat them by themselves, and in the sherbet, the flavor is pretty mild. I got mine at Trader Joe’s.

Coconut Hibiscus Sherbet
A 17 and Baking original

1 cup cream
1 cup milk (I used soy milk)
1 cup sweetened dried coconut
1/2 cup dried sweetened hibiscus flowers
2 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon orange blossom water OR 1 teaspoon orange zest
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Combine the cream, milk, coconut, hibiscus, and sugar in a medium saucepan. Stir over medium heat until the mixture comes to a simmer. Take the saucepan off the heat and cover it, letting the mixture steep for one hour. Strain the mixture through a fine sieve into a medium bowl, pressing on the coconut and hibiscus flowers to get all the liquid out. Cover with plastic wrap and chill for an hour or until thoroughly chilled.

Stir in the orange blossom water (or zest) and the vanilla extract, then churn in an ice cream maker.

Printer-Friendly Version – Coconut-Hibiscus Sherbet

Today was my first day back at school after our mid-winter break. Some of my friends flew to China, spending the week amongst hazy neon billboards and frigid vendor’s markets. Another friend passed the time in a bitter whirl of snow that could not dampen his thrill to be in New York. One of my best friends, promising to send a postcard, vacationed in Hawaii. Even without a letter, I could imagine her snorkeling through murky waters that cleared into brilliant clouds of fish.

But me? I stayed home alone most afternoons, not even reaching out to the friends who were still in the area. I watched an embarrassing amount of The Office (my new obsession) and refreshed my Facebook page until, with a pang, I realized that I was the only person online.

This happens to me all too frequently when I am left to my own ways at home – I slip into inevitable boredom. It seeps from the dim lighting and wheezy exhalations of my laptop into my very bones. I feel burdened with the monotony. It feels heavy, like overripe fruit, stifling my motivation. I just don’t feel like doing anything.

After my second consecutive day spent in teddy bear print pajamas, I stopped even using my laptop. I had headaches that throbbed too much when I tried to fix my eyes on a screen, but I couldn’t find anything else to do. I didn’t even want to bake.

My dad urged me to go out on my own, even if my friends were out of town. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” he kept asking, like he couldn’t quite believe it had come to this. “Take the car. Venture down roads you’ve never explored. Look around downtown Seattle. Bring your camera. Get out.”

Despite all my general bravado about leaving the west coast, experiencing new things on the other side of the world, exploring everything there is to see – I resisted. I wasn’t in the mood to get lost or sing along with the radio. But finally, sick of stagnation, I swept my hair up and pulled on some boots. I cradled my camera and locked the empty house behind me, head still pressured by migraines.

Despite my mood, I was out of the house, wearing real clothes with texture and color and substance instead of shapeless sweats. The moment the door closed, I felt the brittle February air break into my lungs. It was more invigorating than any Tylenol or television show.

At first I drove aimlessly with the sole purpose of burning gas. I discovered a new way to drive downtown. I made wide, comfortable loops that took me towards and away from my house with little thought. That’s when I saw the blueberry farm and reacted before my mind had caught up. I heard the dull crunch of my car pulling onto the gravel driveway, the slam of the door and the sound of the breeze picking up before I’d fully registered. I didn’t even bring my camera.

It wasn’t anywhere near blueberry season. The blueberry plants were trimmed down and leafless, kept in neat rows that stretched out as far as I could see. The trees along the horizon were velvety dark at this distance, and the sun shone through their peaks in solid, separate rays. As I walked, the footprints in the dirt behind me slowly filled with water. I shivered a little at first, my hair whipped across my cheeks, and a smile emerged like a midwinter sunbreak.

Sometimes, I think the simplest things can be the best medicine. A walk through an icy, empty blueberry farm without a trace of technology or a thought in my mind. A creased postcard with sea turtles and butterfly fish on the front. Or a genuine “Thank You” and a plate stacked high with sugar-shelled chocolate crinkle cookies, baked with love and devoured quickly.

[PS: Still collecting questions for a future FAQ post, so leave a question for me if you'd like!]

Frankly, I don’t always enjoy making cookies because of the repetition involved. But these cookies come together very quickly, and the results are so good that they’re worth a palm coated in batter and a couple powdered sugar sneezes. They’re almost brownie-like in texture: thick, indulgent, and a little chewy with good chocolate flavor. They get a good, slightly crisp outer crust and soft center.

I liked the powdered sugar, but I also tried rolling cookies in cocoa powder, shredded coconut, cinnamon sugar, sprinkles, raw sugar, and sanding sugar. I liked the cinnamon sugar cookies a lot, maybe more than the original. I’m always a fan of simple recipes that are open to lots of variation! Maybe next time I’ll try cinnamon or coffee in the dough itself.

Chocolate Crinkle Cookies
From All Recipes
Makes about 7 dozen cookies

1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
2 cups white sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
4 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar

In a medium bowl, mix together cocoa, white sugar, and vegetable oil. Beat in eggs one at a time, then stir in the vanilla. Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt; stir into the cocoa mixture. Cover dough, and chill for at least 4 hours.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line cookie sheets with parchment paper. Roll dough into one inch balls with lightly oiled palms. I used a size 50 cookie scoop to portion the dough, a tablespoon or rounded teaspoon would also work depending on what size you like. Coat each ball in confectioners’ sugar before placing onto prepared cookie sheets. [Alternatively, try other ingredients like cinnamon-sugar or sprinkles.]

Bake in preheated oven for 10 to 12 minutes. Let stand on the cookie sheet for a minute before transferring to wire racks to cool.

Printer-Friendly Version – Chocolate Crinkle Cookies

When my DSLR camera arrived in the mail, matte black and quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, the first place I went was the kitchen.

Up until then, I’d been using a small, compact digital camera to take my food photos. While I was satisfied with the results, I knew I wanted something more. I wanted a camera that caught the rich sheen of chocolate glaze, the buttery crumble of shortbread, and the vivid colors of buttercream frosting. And while my digital camera could take a photograph of a dessert, it didn’t capture the real essence of what made each dessert truly, fork-halfway-to-your-mouth delicious.

But with my new Canon Rebel XTi, I felt sure that everything was about to change. I lifted my camera to my cheek, felt my eyelashes brush against the viewfinder, and pressed the button gently. My first photograph was a basket of green and gold apples in a woven basket, steeped in the most beautiful afternoon light I’d ever seen. I actually set the camera down to do a little dance right there on the kitchen tiles, feeling utterly radiant.

Coconut Lemon Brigadeiro

Since then, taking photographs has become just as fulfilling as baking a creamy, uncracked cheesecake or writing a seamless short story. I take long walks around the neighborhood with the Canon around my neck, glancing everywhere like I could take a picture with my eyes. I look for the extraordinary in the details, for interesting shadows and whimsical patterns.

Every time I check the photos I’ve taken, it’s a mixed bag. There will always be a couple that are slightly out of focus or didn’t replicate the view in my head. I don’t think a good camera makes a photographer. But when I get a shot that makes me as giddy as that beautifully simple photo of a basket of apples, I feel like a life spent seeking breathtaking photos would be a life well spent.

I sent that photograph of the apples to my dad the day I took it. I included a brief, but cheery message with it: “Look!!! This is unedited, straight out of the camera! I think I’m just going to have to send you a photo every single day.”

And you know what? I didn’t think much of that last sentence at the time, but it’s been nine months and he’s kept me to it.

Cayenne Cinnamon Brigadeiro

Every day, whether the sky releases a torrent of rain or I get home at nine with a headache and a temper, I send a daily photo. It’s a different image every day… pastel sunrises, wrought-iron fences, even self-portraits if I’m feeling ambitious. And though it isn’t always easy to come up with a new photo, it keeps me photographing the way 17 and Baking keeps me writing.

As it turns out, I love photographing almost anything – people, dilapidated houses, animals, unusual textures – more than food.

There is a side effect to the daily photos, though. I don’t like my dad to look through my camera. I love surprises. I love being surprised, I love planning surprises, and I definitely like surprising other people, so I always want the daily photo to be new when my dad checks for it every night. Unfortunately, I think I care more than he does, so sometimes we fight over the Canon.

“Dad. Seriously. Don’t look through it. I just got back from downtown and there’s a lot of daily photos in there.”

“Good!” He’ll press the buttons to look through the saved photos, a thoughtful look on his face before I’ll try to snatch the camera back.

“It should be a surprise!” And then I’ll get served with the roll of his eyes, his mild annoyance, and that too-familiar face that says “Oh please.” But I always persist.

But after we made this brigadeiros – Brazilian fudge truffles we made at the request of a reader – I surprised both of us by being somewhat open. I normally make him leave when I photograph food, preferring to be alone to avoid the pressure of his presence as well as his advice. But that day I let him stand off to the side as I adjusted settings, taking the same photo over and over.

When he asked what I was doing, I even turned over the camera to show him. Who knows. Surprises are important, but maybe a little family time with five dozen truffles and a set of pretty photographs is kind of important too.

Tangerine Brigadeiro

I’d never heard of brigadeiros before, but when someone asked for them through a comment on an old post, I was tickled. Dad and I looked them up together and realized that they were a snack his grandmother had made for him when he was a little boy, exactly the same. Whether they evoked memories or not, though, they were my first request and I didn’t even consider not making them.

With Dad’s help, we decided on five variations: coconut lemon, cayenne cinnamon, tangerine, hazelnut-nutella (think Ferrero Rocher), and white chocolate-dipped lavender almond. It may sound like a mouthful, but actually, this might be the easiest thing I’ve ever made. To make five dozen truffles, including five different variations and a trip to the grocery store, the entire process took us two hours.

The base is only 3 ingredients, but gosh, these are delicious. The entire week we’ve said, “Wow. We need to give these away.” But we haven’t. We just keep eating them. For once, I don’t feel like the photos do the brigadeiros justice.

White Chocolate-Dipped Lavender Almond Brigadeiro

[PS: I'm thinking about doing a frequently-asked questions post, so feel free to leave a comment with a question for me. I'll pick out some questions and answer them in a later post. You can ask about anything, food-related or not, and I might answer it! :) Hope you all had a great valentine's day. I spent it eating brigadeiros.]

Hazelnut-Nutella Brigadeiros

Three ingredients and endless possibilities! You can be so, so creative with the brigadeiros. And you positively cannot go wrong with cocoa powder, butter, and sweetened condensed milk.

Frankly, I might call the white chocolate-dipped lavender almond brigadeiros a failure because the lavender wasn’t very prominent. But even so, they were delicious. It was impossible to pick a favorite in my opinion. My dad’s favorite was the tangerine, because the flavor was so bright and sunny. But I know he also really liked the hazelnut and the cayenne.

“Truffle” is a little misleading, but “fudge” isn’t quite right either – both together are a little more accurate. Once chilled, the brigadeiros have the texture of a very thick caramel, but without the super stickiness. They’re rich and creamy and chewy. They’re really divine, so thank you to the reader who asked for them! They were delicious and I would completely make them again.

I’d love to try even more flavor possibilities. Maybe roasted banana, grapefruit, lemon and mint, walnut and maple?? Any extract, liquor, spice, or ingredient can probably be incorporated. Of course, they are also quite good as is, no variation required.

Assorted Brigadeiros (Brazilian Fudge Truffles)
Makes 5 dozen total (can be halved)
Makes a dozen of each of the following: white chocolate-dipped lavender almond, coconut lemon, tangerine, hazelnut-nutella, and cayenne cinnamon.

Base Brigadeiro Dough
2 (14 oz) cans of sweetened condensed milk
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons cocoa powder
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature

White Chocolate-Dipped Lavender Almond
Scant 1/8 tsp almond extract
1/2 tsp culinary lavender
2 oz white chocolate chips

Coconut Lemon
Scant 1/8 tsp lemon extract
Shredded coconut, for rolling

Tangerine
Zest of half of a tangerine/small mandarin orange, plus more for decorating
1/4 tsp Grand Marnier
Chocolate sprinkles, for rolling

Hazelnut-Nutella
12 whole hazelnuts
2 tablespoons nutella
Chopped hazelnuts, for rolling (preferably toasted and skinned)

Cayenne Cinnamon
Scant 1/8 tsp cayenne powder, plus more for decoration
1/8 tsp ground cinnamon

Combine sweetened condensed milk, cocoa powder, and butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Stir constantly until the mixture comes together into a thick batter. [Really do stir constantly. It'll take 10-15 minutes and you might want to have a book or something.] When you tilt the pan, the mixture should not stick to the bottom of the pan, but slide cohesively like a dough. Cook further for another minute or so.

Remove from heat and divide amongst 5 bowls, about 1/2 cup dough each. [You might want to grease the bowls first, but I didn't, and didn't have any problems.] In your first bowl, add the almond extract. In the second bowl, add the lemon extract. In the third bowl, add the tangerine zest and the Grand Marnier. In the fourth bowl, add the cayenne powder and the cinnamon. And leave the fifth bowl untouched (for the hazelnut-nutella). [You could mark the bowls, or identify through taste.] Let cool to room temperature.

Meanwhile, for the hazelnut brigadeiros, roll a dozen whole hazelnuts individually in a bit of nutella. Just try to coat them evenly. Put them in the freezer. These will make it easier to get the hazelnut, and a layer of nutella, inside the brigadeiros.

For the white chocolate-dipped lavender almond brigadeiros, melt the white chocolate either in a double boiler or using the microwave. Stir in the culinary lavender and keep warm.

Using a small cookie scoop, teaspoon, or melon-baller, scoop out the dough and roll it between lightly-greased palms. You can make any size you want, mine are about an inch in diameter. I would work with one flavor at a time.

Dip the almond brigadeiros in the white chocolate, then place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Roll the lemon brigadeiros in shredded coconut before placing on the sheet. Roll the tangerine brigadeiros in chocolate sprinkles, then top with zest. Top the cayenne brigadeiros with a bit of cayenne powder. For the hazelnut brigadeiros, flatten the ball into a disk and wrap around the chilled hazelnut/nutella, then roll in chopped hazelnuts.

Eat immediately, or chill brigadeiros.

Printer-Friendly Recipe – Assorted Brigadeiros

Disk of brigadeiro dough with a nutella-coated hazelnut

Lately, I’ve been in a writing rut.

I’ve been in food ruts where I made the same types of desserts over and over, and I’ve had weeks where inspiration simply escaped me. I’ve had photography ruts, too, where every post would somehow have the same style of photographs. I think every food blogger has those moments where you long to shoot images of vintage cars, textured bark or copper kettles, anything but another cookie.

These days, I haven’t had any recent baking disasters and my photography can only improve. But I’ve never experienced a writing rut before, and even stringing those two words together makes my heart ache like a bruised peach. I can’t describe how stifling and disheartening it feels to have nothing to say. I have never felt speechless before, and it makes me feel cloudless and empty.

I tried to pinpoint where it started, and I think I know. Last month the blog received more attention than usual and got some national exposure. I was out of town the week that it happened, and when I came home, I was startled by the sudden spike in subscriptions and Facebook friend requests. All my numbers had gone up, thirty times my usual number of hits, and more comments than I could read in an hour.

At first, I was exhilarated. I couldn’t wait to post again, and I was so touched that 17 and Baking meant something to so many new people. But as I started sifting through the comments, I encountered something I’d never expected to read on my site – wisps of negativity that deflated any of my short-lived joy.

I’ve never received disparaging comments before. I mean, it’s one thing when a recipe doesn’t work out for somebody or when I’ve made a silly mistake on my post. But amongst the flood of new comments were little pebbles of cruelty, a silt of snide comments and offhand criticisms. I knew those people shouldn’t matter. I knew nobody with a dream or a zest for life would write “Who cares?” on a 17 year old’s blog.

But honestly? I’m not kidding anyone, especially not myself. Those comments did matter to me.

I remember for the first time, dreading my next post. Although only a tiny percentage of comments from the recent exposure had been discouraging, the damage was done. I considered writing about my hesitations and reservations, or about how I found the strength to move on. But nothing I wrote rang true, and ultimately, I didn’t want to display my disappointment and tarnished confidence to the world. That isn’t the kind of person I am.

I wrote a lighthearted post instead, and kept my feelings to myself for once. And somehow, inexplicably, I lost my voice for a few weeks. I was unsatisfied with everything I wrote, and I finally had the last straw when I rewrote last week’s post four times before posting, and still was unhappy with the result. I wanted to find my passion again.

Passion, not flour or sugar, is the life of this blog. I refuse to let it wilt, because this blog has truly had a tangible impact on my life. I can feel it stirring in the back of my mind when I’m home alone, making hot chocolate and trying to find matching socks. I feel it pulsing through my veins when I walk to class, wet leaves still clinging to my boots. And I feel it most of all in my heart when I read your comments and emails, because nothing makes me as happy and enriches my life as much as your words.

Last week I discovered that I was nominated in the category of “Best Weblog By a Teen” in the 10th annual Weblog Awards, and it lifted my spirits in an unbelievable way. I felt like I was made out of thin air, or quite possibly liquid sunshine. I’m so honored and thrilled to be part of this year’s nominations!

Browsing this year’s nominees has also shown me plenty of great sites I wouldn’t have found on my own. None of the other teen nominees are specifically food bloggers, but their interests range from current issues to fashion to daily ponderings. I definitely encourage you to check out this year’s weblogs and maybe even vote for 17 and Baking! [2/28/10 Update: You might like to know that I won. :) ]

I finally feel like I have found my voice again with this post. The words came out easily once more, like the dusk I’ve been swept in has finally dissipated. When I finished writing this post and read it over in a final edit, I felt a deep satisfaction that I’d nearly forgotten.

I don’t know if it’s the nomination, the passing of time, or the fact that this month’s Daring Bakers challenge was pleasantly easy. All I know is that I am bursting with metaphors and adjectives, I have so much that I want to say and so much I want to learn. I’m so lucky to know where my passions are and to have the means to pursue them with everything I have, and I can’t help but look forward to February with a considerably lighter heart.

The January 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Lauren of Celiac Teen. Lauren chose Gluten-Free Graham Wafers and Nanaimo Bars as the challenge for the month. The sources she based her recipe on are 101 Cookbooks and www.nanaimo.ca.

Here in Washington state we don’t get nanaimo bars, or at least I’ve never seen one. I’ve seen them on Tastespotting and thought they looked good, so I was excited to see that they were this month’s challenge. Unfortunately, I can’t say that I liked them. I have a sweet tooth, but even without the maple flavoring, these were tooth achingly sweet. They were also much too rich in the way that an overly buttery buttercream is too rich.

Nanaimo bars have three layers – chocolate on top, a middle buttercream layer, and a cocoa-coconut bottom layer made with graham crackers. For the chocolate layer, I used some unsweetened chocolate to tWe were encouraged to make gluten-free graham crackers for the challenge, but I didn’t have the ingredients on hand and made the original recipe instead. It just so happens I’ve made this exact graham cracker recipe before for my Autumn S’mores, so I’ll give the gluten-free version below.

Gluten-Free Graham Wafers
Adapted from 101.cookbooks
Makes about 10 large graham crackers (more than that for me)

1 cup (138 g) (4.9 ounces) Sweet rice flour (also known as glutinous rice flour)
3/4 cup (100 g) (3.5 ounces) Tapioca Starch/Flour
1/2 cup (65 g) (2.3 ounces) Sorghum Flour
1 cup (200 g) (7.1 ounces) Dark Brown Sugar, Lightly packed
1 teaspoon (5 mL) Baking soda
3/4 teaspoon (4 mL) Kosher Salt
7 tablespoons (100 g) (3 ½ ounces) Cold Unsalted Butter (Cut into 1-inch cubes)
1/3 cup (80 mL) Honey, Mild-flavoured such as clover.
5 tablespoons (75 mL) Whole Milk
2 tablespoons (30 mL) Pure Vanilla Extract

In the bowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade, combine the flours, brown sugar, baking soda, and salt. Pulse on low to incorporate. Add the butter and pulse on and off, until the mixture is the consistency of a coarse meal. If making by hand, combine aforementioned dry ingredients with a whisk, then cut in butter until you have a coarse meal. No chunks of butter should be visible.

In a small bowl or liquid measuring cup, whisk together the honey, milk and vanilla. Add to the flour mixture until the dough barely comes together. It will be very soft and sticky.

Turn the dough onto a surface well-floured with sweet rice flour and pat the dough into a rectangle about 1 inch thick. Wrap in plastic and chill until firm, about 2 hours, or overnight.

Divide the dough in half and return one half to the refrigerator. Sift an even layer of sweet rice flour onto the work surface and roll the dough into a long rectangle, about 1/8 inch thick. The dough will be quite sticky, so flour as necessary. Cut into 4 by 4 inch squares. [To make things easier on myself, since the bars just need crumbs, I used a cookie cutter to quickly cut out stars.] Gather the scraps together and set aside. Place wafers on one or two parchment-lined baking sheets. Chill until firm, about 30 to 45 minutes. Repeat with the second batch of dough.

Adjust the rack to the upper and lower positions and preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit (180 degrees Celsius).  Gather the scraps together into a ball, chill until firm, and reroll. Dust the surface with more sweet rice flour and roll out the dough to get a couple more wafers. Prick the wafers with toothpick or fork, not all the way through, in two or more rows.

Bake for 25 minutes [more like 12], until browned and slightly firm to the touch, rotating sheets halfway through to ensure even baking. Might take less, and the starting location of each sheet may determine its required time. The ones that started on the bottom browned faster.

To make crumbs: When cooled completely, place enough wafers in food processor to make 1 ¼ cups (300 mL) of crumbs. Another way to do this is to place in a large ziplock bag, force all air out and smash with a rolling pin until wafers are crumbs.

Maple and Walnut Nanaimo Bars
Makes an 8×8 Pan

Bottom Layer

1/2 cup (115 g) (4 ounces) Unsalted Butter
1/4 cup (50 g) (1.8 ounces) Granulated Sugar
5 tablespoons (75 mL) Unsweetened Cocoa
1 Large Egg, Beaten
1 1/4 cups (300 mL) (160 g) (5.6 ounces) Gluten Free Graham Wafer Crumbs
1/2 cup (55 g) (1.9 ounces) Walnuts (Finely chopped)
1 cup (130 g) (4.5 ounces) Coconut (Shredded)

Melt unsalted butter, sugar and cocoa in top of a double boiler. Add egg and stir to cook and thicken. Remove from heat. Stir in crumbs, nuts and coconut. Press firmly into an ungreased 8 by 8 inch pan.

Maple “Buttercream” Middle Layer

1/2 cup (115 g) (4 ounces) Unsalted Butter
2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons (40 mL) Heavy Cream
2 tablespoons (30 mL) Vanilla Custard Powder (Such as Bird’s, or Vanilla pudding mix)
2 cups (254 g) (8.9 ounces) Icing (Powdered) Sugar
2 teaspoons (10 mL) Maple Syrup
1/4 teaspoon Vanilla Extract
Dash of cinnamon

Cream butter, cream, custard powder, icing sugar, maple syrup, vanilla extract, and cinnamon together well. Beat until light in colour. Spread over bottom layer.

Chocolate Top Layer

3 ounces (87 g) Semi-sweet chocolate
1 ounce (29 g) Unsweetened (Baker’s) chocolate
2 tablespoons (28 g) (1 ounce) Unsalted Butter

Melt chocolate and butter over low heat. Let cool to room temperature. When cooled, but still liquid, spread over the top of the bars.

Printer Friendly Version – Maple and Walnut Nanaimo Bars

Ah, summer… It’s filtered into everything, even school. I spend at least two periods a day outside, because even my teachers can’t stand being cooped up. We watch movies and do creative projects instead of textbook assignments, and I have never been so relaxed or felt so free.

Summer means reading lazily in the softest, greenest patch of grass.

Playing the radio as loudly as possible so I can sing along without being heard by the neighbors.

Picking fresh, full leaves of basil that beg to become fragrant green ice cream (coming soon, I promise.)

Summer means walking into the dusk in a short sleeved shirt, stargazing right on the cool driveway, and tucking plastic yellow sunglasses in my bag wherever I go.

It’s an energy that I have tried to capture in a photograph all week. But there are no words or pictures that can convey the feeling – I’ve learned to put down the camera and simply breathe in the sun.

Even in Seattle, summer means heat. It’s almost too much – for me, the ideal day is 65 degrees. With a gentle breeze. And a slightly overcast sky. Still, I can’t resist the hazy summer heat and find myself in the backyard more than the house.  But nothing can keep me away from the kitchen for long, and sure enough, I’m still baking away.

Oh, I am so lucky to be in love! With summer, with photography, with sugar, with my family. I hope you are all as happy and in love with life as I am at this very moment.

We had our first dinner outside last week. The day was so utterly lovely that we threw open every window and dusted off the old glass table. We passed around fruit salad and chicken, grilled with herbs grown in our own garden. We talked until twilight fell, and found that there is nothing quite like concluding a meal with lavender ice cream in sugar cones.

But first, we started the day with Blueberry Coconut Cream Scones.

I had leftover coconut cream, because my friend C- requested my Chocolate Marble Cheesecake with Coconut, Lemongrass, and Kaffir Lime for her 17th birthday. My dad always loves scones on Saturday mornings, so coconut scones seemed perfectly natural. But I wanted to add something else too… and blueberries were added into the mix.

My family really enjoyed these scones. The texture is very soft and makes for light scones. The coconut flavor is understated but definitely present. I also used plump dried blueberries that added great summery flavor.

Blueberry Coconut Cream Scones
Adapted from House of Annie
Makes 8-12 scones

2 cups all purpose flour
1 tbsp baking powder
3 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt
5 tbsp cold, unsalted butter
1/2 cup dried blueberries
1/3 cup shredded coconut (I used sweetened)
1 cup coconut cream

Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

Mix together flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt. Cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal (I used my food processor.) Add dried blueberries and shredded coconut, then gradually pour the coconut cream in a steady stream and mix in. The dough will be very shaggy and have loose pieces, and more cream can be added if the dough will not come together.

Pat the dough into a circle and cut into 8-12 pieces. Separate onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. (The original recipe instructs for the dough to be rolled out, folded over, and then shaped into a circle and cut… I simply wasn’t paying attention and skipped all that and the scones came out great. But by all means, look at the original recipe and try Annie’s method, which is accompanied with photographs.)

Brush scones with some coconut cream and bake for 15-20 minutes, or until golden brown.

Printer Friendly Version – Blueberry Coconut Cream Scones

Dear Daring Bakers,

I love you. Seriously. Each and every one of you, from the very bottom of my heart. I’ve watched you grow, the blogroll getting longer and longer each month, and I’ve savored the challenges, looking at every elegant photograph and memorable post with admiration and just a touch of envy.

In complete honesty, Daring Bakers, you were out of my league. Perhaps I could make a food blog, but never could I make the same desserts as you – challenging, beautiful, time consuming, potentially expensive – it was not in the cards for an amateur 17 year old who fancied herself a foodie.

Lucky for me, Daring Bakers are the warmest, friendliest bakers around. I still can’t quite believe that I am a Daring Baker now, and that I’ve finished my first challenge. Actually, this might be a daydream. I could potentially be in 5th period English. Don’t wake me up.

Love, love, love

Elissa

The April 2009 challenge is hosted by Jenny from Jenny Bakes. She has chosen Abbey’s Infamous Cheesecake as the challenge.

After recovering from the wild crazy joy that was being accepted into the Daring Bakers, I went absolutely insane waiting for the April challenge to be announced. I won’t lie – I felt scared that it would be a fancy French pastry that I would completely defile, and that would be the end of it. But I’d made cheesecake twice before – plain cheesecake – and was eager to try more exotic flavors and see how this recipe compared with mine.

I must have played with a dozen different ideas. A spicy Mexican Hot Chocolate cheesecake, green tea and white chocolate, blood orange and champagne, even basil. When I brainstormed aloud about coconut to my parents, my dad said “Thai.” And it all came together.

Chocolate Marble Cheesecake with Coconut, Lemongrass, and Kaffir Lime.

And yeah, that tiny bite is what’s left of the slice from the picture before.

I actually stopped the photoshoot to eat the cake I was photographing. Then I guiltily set down the plate and picked up the camera.

This cheesecake is just that good.

[8/4/10 Update - I made this cheesecake for the Seattle talk show New Day Northwest! Watch me make the cheesecake on TV here.]

It’s a bit Asian inspired. Coconut, lemongrass, and especially kaffir lime are all characteristic flavors in Thai cooking. And the chocolate? You can’t go wrong with that. It pairs really well with the coconut.

The flavor wasn’t as strong as I’d expected, but it was lovely. The coconut is definitely the most prominent, it hits you after the first bite and says “Coconut.” The lemongrass is more subtle. The lime is probably the faintest flavor, not something easily pinpointed but definitely tasted. The chocolate – well, chocolate is always divine. I didn’t use too much because I was worried about overpowering the otherwise delicate flavor of the cheesecake, and I think I hit just the right balance.

This was a great cheesecake recipe. It was creamy, though not quite as heavy as the cheesecake I’ve made before. My mother, who doesn’t care for anything richer than chiffon cake, proclaimed it one of her all time favorites. She was just as reluctant as I was to donate it to her office before we ate the whole thing.

It did crack, though this is probably my fault – I opened the springform pan way, way, way before the cheesecake was done. I also may have overmixed the batter, as I usually do it by hand but used a mixer this time, as per the instructions. I still think the cheesecake looks gorgeous. I didn’t even cover it up with a ganache or fruit. I proudly displayed that crack along with the honey-golden edges and the mysterious chocolate swirls. No one complained.

Changes to the recipe: To add the Thai flavor, I used 1/2 cup heavy cream and 1/2 cup coconut cream rather than the full 1 cup heavy cream called for. I infused the creams with lemongrass and kaffir lime leaves, and used lime juice instead of lemon in the cheesecake too. I didn’t want to buy coconut extract, so I used vanilla. I also didn’t want to buy coconut or lime liquor, so I omitted the alcohol.

The crust combines the Thai and chocolate: crushed chocolate cookies, cocoa powder, and shredded coconut. I left out the sugar in the recipe because the coconut was sweetened.

As for the chocolate swirl, I simply melted bittersweet chocolate and mixed it into about 3/4 cup of the chocolate mixture. The cheesecake probably would have looked nicer with more chocolate swirls, but this ratio kept the coconut, lemongrass, and lime flavors more than an afterthought.

A big thank you to Jenny for hosting such a great challenge, as well as all of the daring bakers for their inspiration and friendliness. I really encourage you to check out everyone else’s cheesecakes too. They’re nothing short of amazing.

Chocolate Marble Cheesecake with Coconut, Lemongrass, and Kaffir Lime
Makes one 9″ cheesecake

Crust
10 whole chocolate graham crackers
4 oz (1 stick) butter, melted
2 tsp Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1/3 cup sweetened shredded coconut
1 tsp vanilla extract

Cheesecake
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup coconut cream (not coconut milk or cream of coconut)
1 large stalk lemon grass, or 2 thin stalks lemon grass
2 dried kaffir lime leaves (can be bought at specialty Asian stores such as Uwajimaya)
3 (8 oz) containers of cream cheese, room temperature
1 cup sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
1 tbsp lime juice
1 tbsp vanilla extract
2 oz bittersweet chocolate, melted and slightly cooled

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and begin to boil a large pot of water for the waterbath. Generously butter a 9″ springform pan. Wrap the outside of the pan in a extra-heavy duty aluminum foil.

Chop up the lemongrass stalk into inch sized pieces, breaking the layers apart and reserving the juices. Place in a small saucepan, along with the heavy cream, coconut cream, and dried kaffir lime leaves. Heat over medium-high heat until mixture boils, then remove from heat and cover. Let steep until cooled completely. Strain the cream into a small bowl and set aside. Discard the lemongrass and lime leaves.

Place the chocolate graham crackers in a large ziploc bag and close it so it’s airtight. Roll a rolling pin over the bag, pressing down to crush the crackers into fine crumbs. You should end up with 2 cups of crumbs. Mix together the crust ingredients and press into the bottom of the springform pan. [I like to use a metal measuring cup with a flat bottom and straight sides to help pack the crust in.] Set the pan aside.

In the bowl of a stand-mixer (or in a large bowl if using a hand-mixer), beat the cream cheese for 30 seconds on low speed until creamy. Beat in the sugar and cream at a slow speed (about 3 on a Kitchen Aid) until smooth. Add eggs, one at a time, fully incorporating each before adding the next. Make sure to scrape down the bowl in between each egg. Add the infused cream mixture, vanilla extract, and lime juice and blend until just smooth and creamy, taking care not to overmix. [Some lumps are okay. The closer to room temperature your cream cheese is, the fewer lumps you'll get.]

Take 3/4 cup of the cream cheese mixture and mix it with the melted chocolate. Pour a third of the white batter into the prepared crust. Drop in half the chocolate batter in tablespoon sized dollops across the white batter. Smooth the remaining 2/3 of the white batter into the pan. Dollop tablespoons of the remaining 1/2 chocolate batter across the top. Run a sharp, thin knife or bamboo skewer through the batter for a swirled effect.

Tap the pan on the counter a few times to bring all air bubbles to the surface. Set the springform pan inside a larger pan, then pour the boiling water 1 inch deep between the larger pan and the foil. Don’t pour the water between the springform pan and foil.

Bake 45 to 55 minutes, until it is almost done – this can be hard to judge, but you’re looking for the cake to hold together, but still have a lot of jiggle to it in the center. You don’t want it to be completely firm at this stage. [50 minutes is perfect for my oven.] Close the oven door, turn the heat off, and let rest in the cooling oven for one hour. This lets the cake finish cooking and cool down gently enough so that it won’t crack on the top. After one hour, remove cheesecake from oven and lift carefully out of water bath. Let it finish cooling on the counter, and then cover and put in the fridge to chill. Once fully chilled, it is ready to serve.

Printer Friendly Version – Chocolate Marble Cheesecake with Coconut, Lemongrass, and Kaffir Lime

My first DB Challenge, ta-da! I can’t wait for May!