image-potato-bread
It happens when I pick up a slice of my own bread. I turn it around, inspect the crumb and color. Bite, and judge the yield of the crust to my teeth. The age-old smell of fermented flour. The mysterious workings of yeast upon sugars and starches. Bread, a miraculous thing. Gratitude and wonder fill my mind.

How wise and beautiful is the blessing over bread: Blessed be You, G-d, our Lord and King of the universe,Who brings forth bread from the earth. It amazes me that people ever learned to harvest, thresh, and winnow wheat, grind it into flour, and ferment that flour with water to bake into loaves. How did it happen, so long ago – how did people have the wisdom to go from  step to laborious step and in the end, produce bread to eat? In wonder, I can only believe that the wisdom was a divine gift.

Bread must have been the first product of human technology. When you think of it, the first convenience food too, as it’s edible for days after production, unlike vegetables and meat. But not easy to get, even if the wheat field extends right up to your doorstep.

In ancient societies, people grew and processed their own bread, but it was arduous work. In this article, I read that the ancient Israelite woman might have spent three hours on her knees every day, bent over a stone quern, grinding wheat into flour. To feed your curiosity, this article by Jane Howard describes bread in ancient Egypt, and this Wikipedia article talks about the history of bread (with an awesome photo of a petrified round loaf retrieved from the ruins of Pompeii).

In medieval Europe, getting bread was not only back-breaking but expensive.  Landowners demanded two-thirds of villagers’ wheat production and set overseers to make sure the tax was met. The physical work of milling was taken out of the people’s hands, but not with kindly intention. Grinding flour and baking at home became illegal, so that the humble were forced to carry their wheat to the miller and then carry the flour to the communal baker – and pay for the work. In kind, because they had no money.

No, bread wasn’t taken for granted. Many lived and died without ever having eaten their fill of bread at one time.

Bread will always be a moving force in history. To learn more about it, I recommend H.E. Jacob’s Six Thousand Years of Bread. Much in this book can be taken, like bread itself, with a grain of salt, but the author gives you a panoramic view of bread’s historic role, from neolithic times to modern days. It ends on a poignant reflection of what bread was to Jacobs as he struggled to keep his humanity in Hell:

“In the Buchenwald concentration camp we had no real bread at all; what was called bread was a mixture of potato flour, peas, and sawdust. The inside was the color of lead; the crust looked and tasted like iron. The thing sweated water like the brow of a tormented man… Nevertheless, we called it bread, in memoriam of the real bread we had formerly eaten. We loved it and could scarcely wait for it to be distributed among us.”

Bread is holy, Jacobs concludes. And bread is profane.

Yes, and yes. Nourishment to the body and to the soul, derived from G-d’s grace yet requiring bodily toil and sweat to have.

How wonderful, what a miraculous thing.

Bread recipes from Israeli Kitchen:

Basil Bread

Bruschetta (And How To Say It)

Herbed Cheese Swirl Bread

Honeyed Challah

Light, Sweet Challah

Cheese Rolls

Potato Bread

Purim Recipe: Prune & Chocolate Bread

Tomato and Pumpkin Seed Bread

Whole Wheat Oatmeal Bread with Walnuts

Sourdough

Sourdough Croissants

Plain White Sourdough Bread

Sourdough Bread with Cornmeal

Sourdough Walnut Herb Bread

Sourdough Onion Bread

Sourdough Oatmeal Bread

image-potato- bread

 

image-sourdough-muffins

Friday night, the Little One and I lit the Shabbat candles and sat down to wait for the rain. It had only sprinkled a few times in our part of town, but the wind was driving yellow dust in front of it, tormenting the trees, knocking planters off balconies. Thunder growling in the distance, and daylight fading quickly.  Tension in the air. The world was waiting for release.

And it came. Finally, real, soaking rain beating down. We smiled and breathed out. How wonderful to be indoors when it’s cold and wet outside. I was glad I’d brought my tender nasturtiums in; they wouldn’t have survived on the porch. On Shabbat day, I served the winter’s first cholent, that comforting, aromatic overnight stew.

There’s something about cold weather that makes me want to bake. Probably because turning the oven on heats the apartment up – but the tantalizing smell of freshly baked goods may have something to do with it.  I’ve been baking sourdough. Having scored half a kilo of butter in the shuk several weeks ago – and “scored” is the word, because there’s been a butter shortage in Israel for weeks -  I made sourdough croissants.  Then an experimental sourdough loaf with a cup of spelt flour in it (it came out rather too moist and heavy for my taste).

From my file of sourdough recipes, I pulled out one for muffins. Hm. I hadn’t made sourdough muffins yet. And they turned out surprisingly easy. I had thought that they would need rising time, but blending acidic sourdough and a little baking soda makes muffin magic – all you need to do is mix everything up and pop the filled tin into a hot oven.

Here are two kinds of sourdough muffins from the same basic recipe.

Sourdough Apple Muffins

Note: these are really not very sweet. If you want to satisfy a sweet tooth, bring the sugar up to 1/2 cup.

Ingredients:

1 Granny Smith apple, halved

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon sugar

1 egg, beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/4 cup oil

1 cup refreshed starter

1 cup flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 cup sugar

Method:

Preheat oven to 425° F, 220° C

1. Dice one half of the apple. Grate the other half into a separate small bowl.

2. Mix the cinnamon and 1 tablespoon sugar into the diced apple. Set aside.

3. In a small bowl, combine the flour, salt, baking soda, and sugar. Add the diced apples and stir well.

4. In a larger bowl, combine the starter, egg, oil, and vanilla. Mix well and add the flour/apples. Mix to just combine everything – don’t overmix or you will get Tough Muffins.

5. Fill your muffin molds to just under the top and scatter the grated apple over the surface of each one.

Bake for 20 minutes. Let the muffins sit in their tin for 5 minutes, then remove them and let them cool down on a rack.

image-sourdough-carrot-muffins

Sourdough Carrot-Cranberry Muffins

Ingredients:

1 carrot, grated – 1/2 cup, although if your grated carrot amounts to a little more, use it all.

1/4 cup dried cranberries

1 egg, beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/4 cup oil

1 cup refreshed starter

1 cup flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 cup sugar

1- 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon

Method:

Preheat oven to 425° F, 220° C

1. Mix the grated carrot and the cranberries. Set aside.

2. In a small bowl, combine the flour, salt, baking soda, and sugar. Add the carrot/cranberries and stir well.

3. In a larger bowl, combine the starter, egg, oil, and vanilla. Mix well and add the flour/carrot-cran mix. Mix to just combine everything – don’t overmix or you will get Tough Muffins.

4. Fill your muffin molds to just under the top.

Bake for 25 minutes. Let the muffins sit in their tin for 5 minutes, then remove them and let them cool down on a rack.
image-sourdough-muffinsimage-nasturtiums-muffins

 

image-honey-biscotti

What’s the difference between mandelbroit and biscotti? Well, apart from one being Yiddish and the other Italian, of course. The only difference I can see is that biscotti are crunchier – baked longer. The recipes are almost identical.

Traditionally, you drink a little glass of sweet wine with either. But a glass of coffee or a shot of slivovitz work with these not-too-sweet biscuits, too.

Honey-Orange Biscotti

Yield: 20-25

Ingredients:

2- 1/4 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

2/3 cup sugar

3 eggs

3 tablespoons honey

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 tablespoons orange zest (1 large orange does it)

Method:

Preheat oven to 350° F – 180° C

1. Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together into a bowl.

2. In another bowl, beat the eggs and sugar together till the mixture is light and lemon-colored.

3. Add the honey, vanilla, and orange zest; mix well.

4. Add the flour mixture to the egg mixture, gently mixing. Stop as soon as the dough is combined. It will be sticky.

5. Line a cookie sheet with baking paper and oil the paper lightly. Spoon out half the dough onto it, making a rough loaf. Now oil your hands and smooth the loaf, stretching it slightly to make a shape about 13″ by 2″ (33. x 5 cm). Do the same with the second half of the dough, making sure to keep a space of at least 3″ – 7.5 cm. between them. They do rise and spread out some.

6. Bake for about 35 minutes, turning the pan around after the first 15 minutes. The loaves should be a warm brown and their surface beginning to crack.

image-biscotti-loaves

7. Remove the pan from the oven and let it cool down for 10 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 325° F – 160° C. in the meantime.

8. Cut each loaf with a serrated knife into diagonal slices about half and inch (1.3 cm.) wide. Place the slices on the pan, cut side up, and return the pan to the oven. Bake 15 minutes, turning the biscotti over 7 minutes into the baking.

9. Place the biscotti on a wire rack to cool down. They will keep up to 1 month in an airtight container, and the flavor improves with time.

image-honey-biscotti-coffee

 

image-lahuch

I walked down the  narrow, sunlit, cobblestone streets of the Yemenite Quarter in Tel Aviv. Running parallel to the noisy, crowded Carmel market, it’s a time-warp of a neighborhood where old-fashioned traditions still hold sway. Traditions like the everyday foods that grandparents brought from Yemen; like strong community ties.

image-Yemenite-quarter

I was looking for a tiny eatery where fresh lachuch flatbread is made every few minutes. The owner had said I could come to take photographs.  Although different from each other in texture and taste, everyday Yemenite breads are flat and flexible.They serve as a base for patut, which is  shredded seasoned bread scrambled with an egg, or as wraps for a fried egg or  salad. See my post about the Rosh Ha’ayin shuk, where I photographed several of these breads.

I found the place and slid the door open. Inside there were small tables and plastic chairs and a well-worn sofa where some tired-looking men were lounging.

image-yemenite-eatery

At the tables , customers were eating patut. Others tore off chunks and dipped them into little dishes of olive oil or fiery s’chug relish, or pureed fresh tomatoes, before popping the pieces into their mouths. Dishes of hilbeh, a goopy paste of fenugreek seeds, garlic, and coriander leaves, were on the tables too, next to cigarette boxes and ashtrays. Nobody seemed to mind that people were smoking. They all seemed to know each other well.

At the rear stood Nechama, a thin dark woman in a pink blouse and jeans skirt hemmed at mid-calf. A close-fitting fabric hat modestly covered her hair.  Her glance was sharp and her manner reticent, but she welcomed me, and her smile, when it came, suddenly revealed a mature woman of considerable beauty.  She was ladling batter out of a plastic bucket and pouring it into shallow black Teflon frying pans.

image-lahuch-batter

The pans full of batter sat for several minutes on the flames while the lachuch baked. When the disks were well pockmarked with open bubbles and their bottom sides baked a golden brown, Nechama shook them out onto a table covered with a clean, thick towel. There they could cool off without sticking to each other or drying out. The whole process took about three  minutes.

image-lahuch

Nechama cooled each frying pan down by running a little tap water over it, then dried it and used another pan to make the next lachuch. She explained that if you use a fresh pan each time, the bottom of the lachuch will stay smooth.

I’ve never seen such a fiercely clean kitchen.

image-frying pans

On one wall was a shelf with a charity box and an old-fashioned instant coffee can next to a can of instant chocolate.

image-shelf-charity-box
One man with a white T-shirt stretched over a big paunch talked to me in jovial English. My accent had given me away immediately. All the men, once they took me in, talked to me in a natural, friendly way – just to exchange, as they say in Hebrew, a good word.

Even the kashrut inspector, dropping in to look over the place and say hello, made a point of greeting me.

“Shalom, madame,” he said loudly.

I turned around and saw a tiny old man with a white beard. He was wearing a rabbinical-looking black hat and jacket. His dark eyes, set in the deep wrinkles of old age, were young, and twinkled curiously at the sight of this tall Ashkenazic stranger in the little shop.

“Shalom aleichem,” I answered respectfully. Then I had to explain, for maybe the third time, what I was doing there and what a blog is.

“Nechama, give me some olive oil,” said the fat man from his table.

“I’m out of olive oil,” said Nechama dryly.

“I’ll go and get some.”

“Well, all right, but only if you let me pay you.” She turned away to poke at something behind her.

“Pay me, pay me – why are you always worrying about money?”  he grunted, heaving himself to his feet and exiting towards the grocery store.

Nechama sat down with me as the customers finished eating and went their ways. She told me that her husband, a neighborhood character and a great player of backgammon, had died suddenly of heart failure. They never had much money, but depended on no one. Now his friends gather for lunch at her place every day.

“They eat here to support me,” she said, her fine black eyes flicking to the opposite wall.

A large photograph of a stout, handsome man hung  there over the sofa: Nechama’s husband. He had been loved, but had never worked very hard. Nechama was now counting on her community’s appetite for fresh traditional breads to keep her little place going. I silently wondered how she would manage when the first wave of sympathy was spent, but she said that her breads are becoming known and that on Fridays,  she sells as much as she can make.

She wouldn’t allow me to photograph her. I didn’t even try asking for her recipe,  the source of  her income, but showed her the one below and she approved it.

I hope, for this brave and lonely woman, that her business succeeds greatly. And I hope that when the right time comes, she’ll know joy again.

Lachuch

about 20 lachuch flatbreads

recipe from The Book of New Israeli Food by Janna Gur

Ingredients:

3 1/2 cups flour

1 oz – 25 grams fresh yeast

1 tablespoon salt

1/2 tablespoon sugar

3 cups warm water

3 slices white bread

oil

Method:

In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in all the water. Add the flour, salt, and sugar and mix to make a loose batter.

Soak the bread slices in warm water for 5 minutes. Squeeze the water out of them and put them in a blender to make a smooth paste. Stir this into the batter; mix.

Cover the bowl and allow the batter to rise till doubled – about 2 hours.

Stir the batter down and oil a frying pan lightly. Wipe away any excess oil. Place it over a medium flame.

Fill a ladle with batter and pour it onto the frying pan. When the top of the pancake-like bread is pocked with bubbles and the bottom is a dark-golden brown, ease the lachuch out onto a clean, dry towel.  Don’t fry the other side.

Keep the lachuch covered. Eat warm – I favor the rip-pieces-off method myself.

image-lahuch

 

Full loaf

Even Husband  liked this sourdough loaf. (I have hopes for that man.) A little baking soda in the dough cut some of the sourdough tang, that was the secret. The starter I used was based on whole wheat flour, so although I used ordinary white flour, the bread came out a warm beige color. I should have slashed the top to keep the sides from breaking away, but the pan kept it together and I cut sandwiches from the loaf till it was gone.

The Little One  spread pesto on slices of this bread and sandwiched slices of feta cheese in between. I liked it with chicken salad and lettuce. Husband opened a jar of peanut butter and spread it on, bless him… there’s no accounting for tastes.

Plain White Sourdough Bread

Ingredients:

1/2 cup water

1/2 cup newly-refreshed sourdough starter

3 cups white flour

3 tablespoons oil

1 tablespoon sugar

for the following day:

2 1/2 cups flour

1 tablespoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

Method:

Put the water, starter, 3 cups flour, oil and sugar in a large bowl. Mix well.

Cover with plastic wrap and leave to ferment in a cool place overnight.

Next morning, deflate the sponge and to it add 2 cups flour, the salt, and the baking soda. If the dough seems too loose to handle, add the last 1/2 cup of flour, cautiously. For a loaf that’s lighter than the usual sourdough, keep the dough sticky.Oil your hands to knead (or stretch and fold, which is the method I favor).

If kneading, knead 10 minutes. If stretching and folding, do it 6 or 7 times, or until you’re sure that everything is well incorporated. Cover the dough again and leave it in a warm place to rise. This will take 2-3 hours.

Deflate the dough and shape your loaf. Cover the loaf and let it rise somewhere warm till it’s light. It may not rise to double in size, but you should be able to see gas blisters under the surface skin of the dough. This third rising takes anywhere from 1 hour to 3 hours, depending on how warm a place the dough’s in.

Slash the top of the loaf to avoid “flying crown.” This is especially important if the loaf is to be free-form, not baked in a pan. Give it about 5 minutes to recover, then bake in a preheated 350°F -180° C oven for 1/2 hour.

When the top has a firm, golden crust, gently remove the loaf from its pan and turn it upside to finish baking – another 15 minutes. It’s always best to test the loaf with a toothpick before assuming its done baking. If it seems underdone, give it another 5 minutes, or turn the oven off and come back in 15 minutes.

cut loaf sideways

 

Husband tells me that his late grandmother, who lived till 90, used to love whole wheat flour, vegetables, and wheat germ. She had all the right ideas, it seems. Husband himself, given the choice, will take white bread every time. This makes me sad.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy white bread too, sometimes. Especially sourdough. But a warm, fragrant, brown loaf stuffed with all those nutritional goodies…white bread doesn’t compare. I’m trying to convert Husband to whole wheat, but I have to come up with something pretty special to get him to eat it. The recipe below is part of my home whole-wheat campaign. Although it has no wheat germ, it reminds me of my own Dad, who poked fun at my health-food leanings and would sometimes sing this song to me:

 

Whole Wheat Oatmeal Bread with Walnuts and Raisins

printable version here

2 medium loaves or 6 rolls

Ingredients:

For the sponge:

1/4 cup raisins

2-1/2 cups hot water

1 cube fresh yeast

2 tablespoons honey

2 teaspoons salt

2 tablespoons oil

1 cup rolled oats (quick-cooking)

1/4 cup chopped walnuts

3-1/4 cups flour

Method:

Put the raisins and the hot water in a large bowl. Let the raisins soak 15 minutes.

Dissolve the yeast in the raisin water; add salt, sugar, and oil.

Add the oatmeal and walnuts. Mix well.

Mix in 3-1/4 cups flour. This should make a loose dough that’s just starting to leave the sides of the bowl.

Cover the sponge with a damp towel or plastic wrap and put it aside at room temperature for one hour. Or leave it overnight in the fridge. In either case, it should rise till doubled.

Note: if the dough is refrigerated, let it come to room temperature when you take it out of the fridge, then proceed to the next step.

Mix 2 to 2-1/2 cups of flour into the dough, sprinkling it on by quarter-cups and kneading it to make a moist dough.

Knead 10 minutes or stretch and fold the dough.

Cover the dough and allow it rise till doubled.

Deflate the dough. Stretch and fold it a few times, then shape it into loaves. The dough should be sticky, so it helps to oil your hands. Let the loaves rise till they’re very light, showing a few blisters under the surface skin of the dough.

Bake at 350° – 180° for 30 minutes. Turn the loaves upside down and bake another 10-15 minutes or until a toothpick poked through comes out clean.

The photo below is to show you more or less what this bread looks like…although the Little One says it looks like The Chocolate Chip Cookie That Ate Petach Tikvah.

image-whole-wheat-bread

 

image-tomato-bread

Has everyone had a good Succot yom tov? I hope so, and wish my readers a Chag Succot Sameach.

Husband, the Little One, and I spent the first day with my married daughter, her excellent husband, and our three delicious little grandchildren. I was happy. My oldest grandchild, just turned seven, sat down next to me on the sofa and read me stories out of his favorite books.  I know, it’s supposed to be me reading to him, but he wanted it that way.

Lunch had been varied and plentiful. Everyone else was taking a nap. My little boy cuddled up to me, holding his story book, reading out loud as a treat to me. His little voice skipped through the Hebrew, page after page, in a light monotone. Drowsiness crept over me. After a few minutes I was cross-eyed, trying not to drift off. But I resisted and laughed and made appropriate noises of shock or surprise as the stories unwound…and unwound. I think he never caught on that I only heard one word out of six. I just hope that when he grows up he’ll remember sitting close with his Grandma, sharing his favorite stories. He won’t know that my heart filled to the brim and that, drowsy as I was,  I truly had no other desire in the world than to be exactly where I was, exactly at that moment.

What does this have to do with the recipe featured above?

Nothing, nothing at all.

Or maybe something. I came home from an evening and day spent with some of my most beloved people and sat down with a glass of chilled white wine to let you know… that life’s best things (in case you hadn’t figured this out yourself) are the simplest, seem most natural and often come when you’re not expecting them. The trick is to recognize them when they happen.

But about this bread. It’s simple and natural too. Succot is a good time to serve it. It’s  moist and red- and green-speckled. It has the sunshine flavors of late-summer tomatoes, and a preview of autumn in the green pumpkin seeds. It’s different. And delicious. Try it.

Here are your tomato options. Choose one for this recipe.

  • 4 halves of sun-dried tomatoes, rehydrated in warm water for 1 hour and chopped coarsely; or
  • 1 cup peeled, seeded and chopped fresh tomatoes, sauteed in a little olive oil; or
  • 3 halves of slow-roasted tomatoes, finely chopped

Tomato and Pumpkin Seed Bread

Ingredients:

1 oz. – 30 grams fresh yeast, or 3 1/2 teaspoon dried

1/4 pint – 150 ml. water

1 lb. – 500 grams bread flour

2 teaspoons salt

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

tomatoes

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 handful green, shelled pumpkin seeds

1 handful sunflower seeds

Method:

In a large bowl, rehydrate the yeast in the water. Add the olive oil and the salt, and the pepper. Gradually add enough flour into the mixture to make a stiff batter – about 2 cups. Stir. If necessary, knead the batter lightly for a few minutes, in the bowl. Cover the bowl and allow the dough to rise for 1 hour.

Stir or knock the dough down, sprinkling more flour as needed to make it come away from the sides and bottom of the bowl. Add the tomatoes and the seeds. add more flour as needed to make a firm, but not dry dough.

Knead ten minutes. Lightly roll the dough into a ball and put it into a clean bowl. Drizzle a little olive oil on top, and turn the dough ball around to become coated with oil. Cover it and let it rise a second time, about 1 hour.

Deflate the dough gently and shape the dough into a fat, rectangular loaf. Pinch the bottom seam with your fingertips to make it keep its shape. Put baking paper on a baking tray, or grease the tray lightly, and place the dough on it. Cover the dough and let it rise a third time till doubled – 35-45 minutes. If your kitchen is warm, the dough will take the shorter time to rise.

About 20 minutes into the last rising time, preheat the oven to 400° F – 200°C.  When the dough has risen and is light, bake the loaf for 45 minutes.

Remove the bread from the tray and place it on a rack to cool.

Slice, and spread with good butter.

 

image-cheese-tomato-muffins

I’d been thinking of savory alternatives to sweet muffins. Let the Little One grab an energy bar as she’s running out the door on school mornings, I said. These muffins, I said, are going to be for me. They’re going to have adult things in them, like slow-roasted tomatoes (see my update on those delicious slow-roasted tomatoes), and Parmesan cheese.

So I baked muffins for myself.  Some I topped with tomatoes, some I left plain. All were delectable. The cheeseful dough with its sweet and tangy pieces of slow-roasted tomato – the crumbly Parmesan topping… very grown-up muffins. I ate one with, and one without tomatoes. Decided that with was better.

Then I had to bake another batch, because the Little One had come home with some hungry friends, and before I could blink, the first dozen were gone, man.

Cheese and Tomato Muffins

printable version here

Yield: 1 dozen

Ingredients:

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 large egg, beaten

1 cup milk

1/4 cup oil

1/2 cup grated yellow cheese

1/2 cup chopped, slow-roasted tomatoes (substitute 1/4 rehydrated dried tomatoes if needed)

1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Method:

Preheat the oven to 350°F, 190°C.

1. Sift together the flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar.

2. In a separate bowl, combine the egg, milk, and oil.

3. Add the wet ingredients to the dry, all at once. Stir briefly, only to moisten the dry ingredients.

4. Add the grated yellow cheese.  Mix briefly again.

5. Fill greased a muffin tin with the batter, filling 2/3 of each muffin mold. Gently drop a little of the chopped tomatoes on top of each. Dust the tops with the grated Parmesan.

6. Bake 15-20 minutes or until the muffins are baked through and golden.

Allow to cool on a wire rack, then remove the muffins from the tin. Eat while still warm.

image-cheese-tomato-muffins

 

image-<a href=

Light and honeysome, spicy and not too sweet. A good Rosh HaShanah cake.

But don’t try baking it in a tube pan, like I did. It needs to spread out and rise. I’d forgotten that. So my first try looked like the work of a nervous bride:  it overflowed and managed to burn while staying raw at the bottom. I was disgusted. Sad. To console myself, I sang the How Long Blues around the house till all the neighborhood dogs howled in sympathetic chorus.

Never mind. Today, I closed all the windows and turned the air conditioning on so I could sing in peace while I baked the cake again.  And it looks and smells so good, now my problem is hiding it from Husband and the Little One till Yom Tov.

We all should only have such tsuris.

Honey Chiffon Cake

Ingredients

4 eggs, separated

1 cup sugar

1 cup honey

1 cup oil

3 ½ cups flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

2 teaspoons baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon ground cloves

1 cup strong tea

Method:

Preheat the oven to 300° F, 150° C.

1. Have ready 3 bowls: one deep, and two medium-sized.

2. In one of the medium bowls, beat the egg whites till stiff. Gradually add the sugar, beating constantly, till all the sugar is incorporated.

3. In the deep bowl, beat the egg yolks till light.  Beat in the honey, then the oil. It will be a thick emulsion.

4. Sift the flour, baking powder and soda, the spices and salt together into the second medium bowl.

5. Add the dry ingredients to the egg/honey mix, alternating with the tea. Start and end with the flour mixture.

6. Mix the egg white mixture into the batter, folding it in gently but making sure that it’s well incorporated.

7. Pour into a greased and floured 9″ x 13″ cake pan.

Bake for 1 hour.
image-<a href=

 

image-fresh-fig-cobbler

I’m  loopy over fresh figs; such a seductive fruit. And I love the fig tree, especially on hot summer nights, when the big, coarse leaves smell deliciously like vanilla and cinnamon. I like its sturdy stance, and the branches so generously laden with green and purple-striped fruit. To open a fig plucked right off the tree and see the mysterious red heart that promises a mouthful of sweetness, well…it’s a moment to cherish and come back to when you need to remember how good life can be.

There’s a great big old fig tree in my neighborhood that I visit once in a while, checking if the hard green little figs have ripened yet. I suspect the neighborhood kids and the birds will get most of them, but maybe I’ll get some too, if I’m alert. Till I can forage my figs, the shuk offers plenty of them. So I brought two kilos home.

Two kilos! That’s a lot of delicate figs. Now I had a kitchen dilemma. Could we eat them up before they spoil?

Figs baked with honey; that was good. Chilled fresh figs with frozen arak poured on top; also good. And before Shabbat, a cobbler, to finish them up. The recipe’s easy and it only takes half an hour to bake. The cobbler is light, just sweet enough, and a little different from the usual peach or apple cobblers.

Fig Cobbler

Ingredients:

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 eggs, beaten

1/2 cup sugar, and another 1/2 cup later

2 tablespoons softened butter or margerine

2 tablespoons milk or orange juice

1/2 cup sweet or semi-sweet wine (I used Emerald Reisling)

3-4 cups figs, sliced into quarters

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

optional: whipped cream

Method:

Preheat the oven to 375° F, 190° C. Use a medium cake pan or quiche dish.

1. Cut the stem end away from the tops of the figs; discard them and quarter the fruit.  Sprinkle the cinnamon over the figs and set aside.

2. Mix the flour, baking powder, and salt.

3. Beat the eggs; add 1/2  cup of sugar. Add the butter or margarine and the milk.

4. To the wet ingredients, add the flour mixture. Stir gently until the ingredients are just combined. Pour the batter into the pan.

5. In a medium saucepan, boil the wine and the second 1/2 cup of sugar for 5 minutes. Add the figs; turn them over in the hot syrup and pour the mixture over the batter.

Bake 30 minutes.

Serve warm or at room temperature, with whipped cream if you wish.

image-fresh-fig-cobbler


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