Beetzza

I just returned from a brief trip east, undertaken in part to see long-neglected friends, spend time with my little sister, go on much-delayed adventures, and finish up that Master's degree I've been paying for, but primarily to make a beet-goat cheese pie that's been over a year in planning.

And by pie, it turned out we meant pizza pie. Which, of course, called for a pizza party.

My bosom friend Barbara and I made a lot of pizza doughs (Smitten Kitchen's recipe x16), bought way too much cheese and one very large can of tomatoes at Claudio's (which got smushed and mixed with garlic, olive oil, and basil), turned up the oven to 500°F, and invited over a bunch of folks with the instructions to bring either pizza toppings or beer.

And people brought such good things! Peppers, mushrooms, asparagus, prosciutto, homemade pepperoni... there was no overlap and an abundance of everything. And everyone got a chance to do a little baking (that's everyone's favorite part of a party, right? Not just me?) and sharing and eating.

For our contribution, we caramelized an onion, boiled and sliced a bunch of beets, crumbled some goat cheese, artistically (or perhaps the more accurate term would be drunkenly) layered it all on a pizza crust, and baked it for about 15 minutes.

It was so damn good.

Tiramisu has the same number of syllables as hallelujah.

When I was an undergrad I used to take long, five hour bus-to-train trips to Davis, CA where my boyfriend was a student. I loved the train rides, which go through some of the most beautiful landscapes in California, and which allowed me lots of time to do homework, particularly once they started offering wireless internet.

Relaxing and productive! Davis, on the other hand, as a little farm/university town located south of Sacramento, was often rather bland, flat, and hot as all hell. Summers were particularly bad, and we spent a lot of time seeking air conditioning and eating meals that required little or no cooking. One summer, for reasons I've forgotten, we got on an Italian kick and started frequenting the little town's surprisingly abundant Italian restaurants. And we formed a love affair with tiramisu. The cold, sweet, filling dessert was the perfect remedy for the nasty heat that we were suffering through. But somehow, although each restaurant had a different take, with varying amounts of rum and coffee and chocolate, none seemed exactly right.  So we decided to learn its creamy, delicious secrets.

And I realize it's winter now, but Keith is in town, and I'd promised another friend tiramisu over the summer and never got around to it.

It's a surprisingly easy thing to make - there's only a tiny bit of actual cooking, and the most difficult part of the whole process is getting the layers of ladyfingers to fit right.

I can't remember where the basis of this recipe comes from - or whether there was a single original recipe at all - although I do remember that I use significantly more rum than any recipe I read called for. The eggs, sugar, chocolate, and three different types of dairy are pretty standard though.

I halved the recipe when I took these photographs, not something I recommend (whipped cream whips a lot better the more you have, and why would you ever want less tiramisu?), but certainly doable if you, like me, can only find three eggs.

Some recipes incorporate the egg whites as well, or combine the Mascarpone and cream layers, or have complicated temperature instructions probably to prevent salmonella poisoning (thanks Joy of Cooking), so it's a rather versatile dessert and you can mess with it as you like. As long as every single ingredient is unhealthy and full of either fat or sugar (or both), you're probably doing fine.

The only cooking in the process is a custard - it takes a couple of minutes, cooks the eggs, and then promptly goes in the fridge to cool completely.

After that, it's just about making layers.

 

They won't be very neat, but that's okay, because you're going to cover the entire thing in cocoa powder (or grated baking chocolate, depending on what's in your kitchen). You're actually going to cover the entire thing in cocoa powder twice. That's how you know it's good.

An added benefit of making this in winter - one which had not occurred to me in California - is that carrying it to your friend's house in the snow is an excellent way to chill the it!

Tiramisu

In a medium saucepan, mix together:

6 egg yolks

3/4 cup sugar

Whisk in:

2/3 cup milk

and cook over medium heat, stirring, until the mixture boils. Boil for one minute, remove from heat, and chill, tightly covered, in the refrigerator, for an hour (or until completely cooled).

In a medium bowl beat until stiff peaks form:

1 1/4 cup heavy cream

1/2 ts vanilla

[optional: a little additional rum]

Stir into chilled yolk mixture until smooth:

1 lb Mascarpone cheese

In a small bowl, combine:

1/2 cup strong-brewed coffee/espresso

4 tb rum

In a 7x11 dish (or something of a similar size, with sides at least 3 inches tall) arrange in a layer:

12ish ladyfingers [You will make two layers, so you need about 24 total. Exact numbers depend on the size and shape of your dish, and how many you eat during the assembly process.]

Drizzle half of the coffee mixture over the ladyfingers [if you like really mushy desserts you can double the coffee in the recipe, and make sure the ladyfingers are really soaked.]. Spread half the mascarpone custard mix over the ladyfingers, then half the whipped cream. Cover with a thick layer of

unsweetened cocoa powder

Repeat the layers, cover, and refrigerate until ready to serve.

It's not about the boats.

Despite living in the Bay Area for over twenty years, extolling the amazing local food scene, and being an avid eater, I'd never been to one of the most lauded places in the foodie world - The San Francisco Ferry Building. I've got plenty of excuses - the primary one being that their infamous farmer's market happens at the same time as my local one, and I've got my loyalties - but honestly, with the Ferry Building being a few blocks away from the first SF bart stop, making it about a 15 minute trip from Oakland, I really should have been here sooner.

I went with one of my favorite foodie/cat ladies, Robyn, with whom I spent all last summer attending street food gatherings, apricot and peach picking, and stuffing sausage. This summer our time together has been truncated by my Philadelphia residency, so we've been trying to fit all our gorging into this scant two-week period. We made a lot of headway at the Ferry Building.

One of our first stops was Cowgirl Creamery's permanent stand. Cowgirl Creamery is the creator of some of my favorite cheese, including the intensely creamy, rich Mt. Tam, their triple-cream. I'll probably do an entire post about cheese later, since it's been such a huge part of this trip, but our Cowgirl Creamery cheese monger (in the red hat) was fantastic and very patient with us as we took photos, sampled cheeses, and discussed the benefits of dating a cheese man.

The Ferry Building, in its most recent incarnation, is less of a ferry terminal and more of a marketplace for elite, Bay Area foodie shops. It's on the tourist circuit, because of its location, but it clearly caters to those educated about the local food scene. Most of the restaurants and cafés use ingredients from the other market vendors, which is a lovely form of mutuality, advertising, and deliciousness.

We bought some walnut-cranberry bread from Acme, which has stores and distributors all over the Bay Area, but originate from Berkeley. We each got a truffle (by which I mean, a small piece of chocolate) from Recchiutti, which seemed to be fairly standard high-quality chocolates. We agonized over beans at the Village Market, a grocer that sells canned, dried, and preserved things. We admired the truffles (by which I mean, a small piece of fungus) at Far West Fungi, and discussed the local mushrooming scene, which has been around at least since my father first arrived in San Francisco, went camping with his friends, ran out of food, and were taught mushroom hunting by a strange man in the woods who turned out to be a major deal in the wild mushroom collecting circles.

By this time, all the food we were eating was making us hungry, so we stopped by Frog Hollow Farm to get some of their notorious peaches in the form of a small lunch.

These peaches, really, they were amazing. The Cal Reds particularly. The best peaches I have ever eaten. The best texture, the best taste, the best juiciness, the best color, the best fuzz. All of it.

 Frog Hollow's market stand has a selection of pastries, fruits, coffee, and small lunch items to choose from. We, of course, got a bag of peaches for later, and then were tempted by the pastries and lunch menu.

I ordered the peach bruschetta, which is the best bruschetta I've ever had, and a strong contender for the best foodthing ever.

Their fromage blanc is from Cowgirl Creamery (I identified it just by taste, which made me feel sort of awesome and a lot dorky. I am a supreme cheese nerd.) and is a mild, fresh, creamy cheese. For some additional flavor, they whip in some of their Frog Hollow olive oil and chopped walnuts to make a really fantastic spread that they put over toasted bread (I think from Acme). They top it with thick slices of fresh peach, with a little pepper over the top.

Here, just look at it. It's delightful.

This wasn't just the best part of the Ferry Building, it might be the best part of my life.

As delicious as the peach bruschetta was, it wasn't quite an entire meal. So we found the empanada guy, and each got a flaky, wonderful pocket of goodness. Mine was filled with mushrooms from Far West Fungi; Robyn's had grass-fed beef from Prather Ranch, another Ferry Building vendor.

One of the primary reasons for our visit was to check out Boccalone, specifically to get some of their nduja - a spreadable sausage.

There's just something about pork that's so photogenic.

I bought a cone full of thinly sliced meats to snack on, which was beautiful and tasty. It's a little funny to see meat served in such a manner, but well worth the novelty.

After the cone of meat, we headed back to the East Bay with our bounty. Along the way we picked up another foodie/cat lady friend, then we sat in the sun in my parents' backyard and had a late lunch/tea/pre-dinner.

The spread:

Walnut-cranberry bread from Acme; Cowgirl Creamery's Pierce Pt. and Bijou, both cheeses bought from Cowgirl Creamery; nduja from Boccalone Salumeria; Cal Red peaches from Frog Hollow; Sicilian pistachios in honey, purchased from the Village Market; and Early Girl tomatoes from Robyn's fridge.

A perfect day of foodie decadence.