Ottolenghi's Clementine and Almond Syrup Cake With Chocolate Glaze

Today is my beloved grandmother’s 100th birthday!!!  Yes, you read that correctly, and while I’ve never had the opportunity to wish anyone a “happy 100th” before, I couldn’t be more delighted to say it to my extraordinary grandma today.  In honor of this major milestone, I’m sharing the Clementine Almond Cake with Chocolate Glaze I recently made for her.

On my family visit in California last month, we had an early celebration exactly one month before Grandma hit this remarkable triple-digit age.  I needed an easy but special cake recipe for her, for I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could on that last day of my trip.  I wanted to talk with her, looking at photos together and playing my violin for her rather than slaving away in the kitchen making some elaborate creation.  This Clementine Almond Cake from Ottolenghi’s Jerusalem cookbook perfectly fit the bill.

As Grandma herself described it after the first bite, “It’s worth living to nearly one hundred to have a cake like this!” This cake may be only a single layer in form, but you definitely taste multiple layers of flavor with each bite.  Grated clementine zest infuses the almond-flour cake with fragrant citrus, while clementine syrup poured over the still-warm cake adds another level of edible sunshine. 

Cherry Stracciatella Ice Cream

Cherries are my favorite fruit, and I can’t eat enough of them in the summer when they’re at their peak. My neighborhood fruit stand vendors know me so well that they automatically hand me a bag of cherries before I even ask.  So you can imagine how my taste buds went into a tizzy when I saw a recipe in the latest Bon Appetit for a cherry-bourbon vanilla ice cream.  I started doing mental variations on the recipe, imagining it with brandy instead of bourbon, or plumping the cherries in amaretto and topping it with toasted almonds. But last night I started dreaming about drizzling in melted chocolate at the end of the freezing time to make a Cherry Stracciatella ice cream.  And that version galvanized me into ice cream-making action this afternoon. 

You know you want this.  Think of it as a sophisticated riff on the popular B&J’s Cherry Garcia flavor.  However, it is so much more than Ben or Jerry could have ever dreamed.

The ice cream custard base is a straightforward vanilla one, an excellent backdrop for wherever your culinary imagination leads you. I like the roundness of flavor that vanilla bean specks add, but you can flavor your ice cream simply with pure vanilla extract if you don’t feel like splurging for the vanilla bean.

Balsamic Strawberry Shortcake At Its Finest

I don’t think I’ve ever met a version of strawberry shortcake that I didn’t like. I love it in its most classic form: a tender biscuit split in half horizontally and filled with sliced berries and softly billowing whipped cream. I’ve made variations on berry shortcakes too many times to count, and I find myself experimenting with each new batch. Sometimes I invite blueberries and raspberries to join the fun, thinking that strawberries shouldn’t have exclusivity at this summer dessert party. I often brighten the berries with grated lemon zest, and I recently made a delightful version in which I tossed the strawberries with a bit of lavender sugar. I’ve spiked the cream with Grand Marnier, whipped it with crème fraiche for a tart contrast to the sweet berries, and I’ve made it like this and that. As long as there are berries, some kind of biscuit-type base and a generous amount of whipped cream, I am a happy camper. But my latest version is a Balsamic Strawberry Shortcake, and I have to admit that this is one of the best I’ve ever tasted.

The shortcakes themselves—a sweet variation on a classic biscuit—are easy enough to make. Some shortcake recipes call for a variety of dairy products to bind the dry ingredients together, producing a base that could range from flaky-layered biscuits to tender-crumbed scones, and I’ve even seen recipes that incorporate finely chopped hard-boiled egg yolks into the mixture. But this recipe plays it clean and straight, requiring only chilled butter and some cream to transform ordinary flour, sugar and baking powder into extraordinary little shortcakes.

Aren’t they pretty? I think so.

Apricot Sorbet For Kids Of All Ages

I think of apricots as the blushing baby sisters to peaches and nectarines, all of them stone fruits that reach their peak at various points throughout the summer. Peaches become more glorious as summer progresses, growing impossibly succulent by the time August rolls around, and nectarines follow a similar curve. But in the same way that little ones have an earlier bedtime while their older siblings are still out on the town, rosy apricots bow out by late June or early July. Since apricot season is rapidly coming to an end, I am especially happy that I had a chance to make Apricot Sorbet with my Little Chef this week.

I had a movie date to see “Toy Story 3” with my nephew Mac (aka The Little Chef), an event we both had been looking forward to with great anticipation, and we hit Whole Foods together to get snacks before the movie. En route to the chips aisle, I was stopped in my tracks by a lavish display of golden apricots. When I casually mentioned that we could buy some apricots to make sorbet, my suggestion was greeted with a very enthusiastic “YES!!!” from the Little Chef.

So that is why we took two pounds of dewy apricots—as well as two pints of fresh raspberries and a large bag of Pirate’s Booty—to the Ziegfeld Theater in midtown Manhattan on Friday afternoon. In this day and age of cookie cutter multiplexes, it is always a thrill to see a film at the historic Ziegfeld, New York City’s last single-screen movie house with a monster sound system. Mac actually gasped with delight when we walked into this majestic theater with its plush black-and-red velvet décor, out of his mind with excitement that we were seeing this eagerly awaited movie on such a mammoth screen.

Lavender Pavlova Loveliness

I am feeling incredibly big-hearted and wish that I had the means to make you all a Lavender Pavlova right now. What could be lovelier than lighter-than-air meringues topped with whipped cream and fresh berries? Actually, I’ll tell you what’s even lovelier: LAVENDER-scented meringues topped with lightly sweetened whipped cream and berries that have been tossed with delicately perfumed lavender sugar. This is one of my all-time favorite desserts, and I feel that it is my sacred duty to share the recipe with you just in time for Valentine’s Day. I know that most people think of decadent chocolate desserts when it comes to V-Day, but I think that you could win the heart of anyone you desired if you served him or her this Lavender Pavlova.

The Pavlova is a traditional Australian dessert, allegedly created by a prominent Australian chef in honor of the great ballerina Anna Pavlova when she toured Australia and New Zealand in the late 1920s. The foundation of this confection is a crisp meringue disk, presumably resembling the shape of a ballerina’s tutu, and it is a study in textural contrasts as it is traditionally topped with softly whipped cream and fresh fruit. It is ridiculously easy to make, provided that you have an electric mixer for beating the egg whites into a billowy cloud, as well as the patience to wait for the meringue to bake in a low-temperature oven.

Poached Pears

The markets are teeming with a vast array of apples and pears right now, providing a visual feast as well as one for the taste buds. I’m trying to take advantage of this bounty before it is replaced by a whole slew of winter citrus fruits. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've been chomping my way through every variety of apple and pear I can get my hands on these days.

But I were hard-pressed to choose between these two classic autumnal fruits when it comes to dessert, I would invariably go for a dessert involving pears over one with apples. I prefer eating my apples straight up, for I think they need no embellishment.  But pears resonate for me on a different level, especially when they’re poached.

I always think of pears as rather unassuming fruits on their own, but they easily turn into something special with just a little coaxing from a syrup made of wine, sugar and spices. Like a great character actor, a pear is willing and ready to take on different roles. Simmered in white wine and sugar with a little fresh lemon, this poached pear is understated and classy. It can stand on its own, needing nothing but a generous dollop of freshly whipped cream to complement it.  The white wine-poached pear can be an incredible supporting player when fanned over an almond-flavored tart or if layered between cream-filled crepes or delicate sponge cake, and I've never met a vanilla-based ice cream that was not enhanced by a few translucent slices of poached pear.

But poach it in a gutsy red zinfandel, this vibrantly hued pear becomes empowered by the wine, bold enough to take center stage. Pears are also versatile enough to embrace flavors such as ginger, vanilla or cardamom in the poaching liquid. Yet no matter what flavorings you add, I love that they still retain the very essence of their pear-ness.

Floating On Limoncello Memories

It has been raining intermittently all week here in New York, but I am ready for some consistent sunshine. Even though this has been the coolest June in recent memory, I am ready to delve into my treasure trove of fun summer recipes and share them with you. Certain days conjure up specific culinary memories for me, especially those of the revelatory sort, and today happens to be such a day for it was on June 27th three years ago in which I was introduced to one of my all-time favorite summer desserts. And it would be my great pleasure to introduce you in turn to the Limoncello Float.

I was doing a recording session with Kelli O’Hara and Harry Connick Jr. on this very day in 2006. I’d always thought Kelli had such a magical quality each time I’d seen her on the Broadway stage, and I was thrilled that she was recording her debut album, “Wonder In The World”. I was excited to work with Harry Connick for the first time, and my enjoyment on the gig was definitely enhanced by the presence of Cenovia and Lorra who were also in the violin section. As they have been two of my major partners in culinary capers over the years, it is no surprise that our conversations frequently turn to new restaurant discoveries or recipes we’re longing to try. This particular morning was no exception, for before the recording session even began, Lorra was waxing eloquently about a marvelous meal she’d enjoyed at a new restaurant in Chelsea called Cookshop. Her enthusiasm ratcheted up yet another notch as she described the limoncello float that was the exquisite clincher of the meal. It sounded like the perfect treat on a blisteringly hot summer day, and I spent the morning daydreaming about how that would taste. When the producers called an unexpectedly long lunch break in between our recording sessions, the three of us immediately hopped in a cab and made our way downtown for those limoncello floats.

I felt very happy and calm the moment I walked into Cookshop, appreciating the minimalist space that was filled with lots of light and countless glass vases of joyful sunflowers. Lunch was delicious, but the limoncello float was out of this world! Served in an elegantly tall glass, the alternating scoops of lemon and strawberry sorbet bobbed up and down in soda water, creating a kind of liquid sunset. And when I stuck my straw into the bottom of this frothy lemony loveliness, the first thing that hit my taste buds was the limoncello liqueur that had settled in the bottom of the glass. It was unexpected and totally beguiling.

In Praise of Unconventionally Great Key Lime Pie

I have a handful of friends who request a specific dessert from me for their birthday each year. Rob loves my carrot cake, which I have baked for him on many a birthday. My little nephew Mac almost always asks for a chocolate birthday cake with vanilla frosting because, according to this particular 7-year-old, “chocolate cake and chocolate frosting might be just a little bit too rich!” And Jorge has insisted upon my ginger key lime pie for the past four years.

I made this for the first time four years ago after watching a Barefoot Contessa television program during which she made a frozen key lime pie. I had always loved key lime pie of any variety, but this frozen version seemed so appealing that I needed to try it for myself. In lieu of making a graham cracker crust, I used gingersnaps to give the pie an added kick and I decreased some of the sugar, but otherwise I followed the recipe as written.

I was eager to share it with friends, so I decided to host a little dinner party on my roof deck. Since this happened to be the week when the 2004 Republican National Convention had descended upon New York, I figured we were all in need of some cheering up while avoiding midtown Manhattan like the plague! It was a beautiful balmy late August night, the perfect evening to sit on the roof and drink rosy chambord margaritas with dear friends while enjoying blue corn chips with smoky chipotle guacamole, a chopped southwestern-style black bean and corn salad, and grilled tequila-lime chicken. The hungry cast of colorful characters included Jorge, Ed, Alissa, Laura and Tom, and in typical fashion, it was a spirited evening with much laughter and story-telling, with the occasional political rant peppering our lively conversation.

Still-Life With Italian Plums, Heirloom Tomatoes and Lemon Verbena

I have found that a good way to cheer myself up on a drizzly late September day is by going to the local farmer’s market to look at beautiful produce. Seeing an array of freshly harvested fruits and vegetables automatically sets my culinary imagination racing, which is an effective way out of the rainy-day doldrums. A cloudy grey sky heightens the intensity of the colors at the market, practically throwing them into visual relief and making them seem all the more vibrant and bursting with possibilities.

This past Saturday was a most dreary and wet day, one in which I wanted to stay home watching Paul Newman movies all afternoon while eating my favorite microwave popcorn and ordering Indian food. Unfortunately that wasn’t option for me as I had to play two performances at “South Pacific”, but that did put me in close proximity of the Lincoln Center Saturday farmer’s market. And as you might imagine, I took one look at the crazy assortment of heirloom tomatoes and my mood quickly began to lift.

Look at all of these beautiful globes in a riot of colors! I came home with several heirloom tomatoes and Italian prune-plums, with a large sprig of lemon verbena thrown in for good measure.

Apples have tiptoed into the markets recently, keeping polite company with the late summer harvest. They are waiting their turn in the wings while the final bounty of summer has one last hurrah, but within another week or two, they will take center stage themselves. Picking season will begin in earnest and market stalls everywhere will boast apples and pears of all shapes and sizes, banishing the memories of stone fruits, tomatoes and corn from our minds until next summer.