Nutter Butter Cookies
Give me a recipe that starts with cooking oats in butter and vanilla bean and you’ve stolen my heart. Throw in some peanut butter and you’ve convinced me to make cookies, something I rarely feel inclined to do.
It had been a while since I made a Nancy Silverton recipe, and now I feel the need to pull all her books off of my shelves and hit the kitchen with a vengeance. Seriously, she might be my pastry hero. Top 5 at LEAST. This cookie recipe came from her Sandwich book, a book I might never have paid attention to had it not been for her take on Nutter Butters.
As mentioned above, I started by toasting oats with butter and a vanilla bean.
I mixed those into a pretty straight-forward peanut butter cookie dough.
I rolled and stamped out little discs that I popped into the fridge to chill before baking.
While those were baking I made the filling, a salty, buttery, peanut fluff.
And then it was the best assembly line one can imagine. The funny thing is, these cookies actually get BETTER as they age. The first night I had them after a Monday night family dinner, with some ice cream. They seemed rich and intense, almost to the point of turning me off. I couldn’t eat a whole one and considered sending them away with my friends just to get them out of my house. The next day though, either I was hungrier or they mellowed out because I devoured one in 15 seconds flat. And they were so much more tender. So from now on, I’m making these little ones the day before I actually need them. And I’ll definitely keep them oreo sized next time.
NUTTER BUTTER COOKIES RECIPE (by Nancy Silverton)
Yield: 36 cookies
Cookies:
12oz unsalted butter, cool
1 vanilla bean
2 cups quick cooking rolled oats
¾ cup sugar
¾ cup brown sugar
¾ cup chunky peanut butter, I prefer JIF
2 ¼ cups AP flour
2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp salt
- In a medium sized skillet, melt 4oz of butter over medium heat. Split the vanilla bean lengthwise and scrape out the seeds. Toss the seeds and the pod into the butter along with the oats. Cook for 5-7 minutes, stirring constantly, until the oats are lightly toasted and golden brown. Transfer the oat mixture to a bowl, discarding the vanilla bean pod, and chill in the fridge.
- Place the flour, baking soda and salt in a bowl and whisk together. Set aside.
- In a stand mixer, cream the butter on medium speed for a minute with the paddle attachment. Slowly pour in the sugars and continue creaming until the mixture is light and fluffy, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. Add the peanut butter and mix just until combined. Lower the speed and add the chilled oats, mixing until just combined.Turn off the mixer and add the flour mixture. Mix on low speed until the dough comes together in a ball.
- Roll the dough into 2″ balls, or use a scooper to scoop out individual portions and place on a parchment lined baking sheet. Slightly flatten each cookie and use a knife to score each cookie with criss-cross patterns. Chill the dough for about 15 minutes.
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Bake the cookies for 18-20 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through. They should be lightly browned. Cool completely.
Filling:
3oz butter, cool
1½ tsp salt
6 TBSP powdered sugar
1 cup + 2 TBSP natural chunky peanut butter
- In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and salt on medium speed for about a minute, until the butter is softened.
- Add the sugar and peanut butter and mix another minute to combine.
- Assemble and Enjoy!
Grape Jelly
Every now and then a fruit just makes you stop and take notice. Such was the case with these grapes. Blueberry grapes they’re called, and they literally taste like bubblicious grape bubble gum. Popping one into my mouth for a taste in the grocry store actually had me giggling, they’re THAT good. I bought a few pounds immediatly and ran home to make jelly.
It was my first time making jelly, and I was super excited. Not because I am particularly fond of jelly, but just because I had never made it. And grape jelly, well that’s just as classic as it comes. I started by cooking the grapes down with a bit of water, while smooshing them with a potato masher. Then I poured that hot mess into a strainer lined with one of John’s old t-shirts. It drained for about 10 hours.
I then boiled the liquid with lemon juice and pectin until I had a nice set.
And it worked! It’s translucent and jiggly and perfect! I’ve been eating grape jelly and peanut butter sandwiches like they are going out of style and I suspect I’ll be buying more of these magical blueberry grapes….
GRAPE JELLY RECIPE:
1x (2 quarts)
2 1/4 lb grapes
2/3 cup water
1 lb 4oz caster sugar
3 TBSP lemon juice
3 oz liquid pectin
- Put the grapes and water in a saucepan and smash them with a potato masher. Bring to boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer for 15 minutes. The grapes should be very soft. Smash the grapes some more.
- Pour the mixture into a strainer lined with thin fabric (I used a worn t shirt) and allow to drip for 8-12 hours. Do not press the mixture or the jelly will be cloudy.
- Pour the drained liquid into a saucepan and add the caster sugar and lemon juice. Heat over low heat, stirring until the sugar has dissolved. Bring to a boil, add the pectin and cook over medium high heat for a 3-5 minutes, until the jelly has set.
- Ladle into hot sterilize jars and seal.
Lemon Fluff for Miles
Disclaimer: These photos blow. The recipe however, quite spectacular. After weeks of thinking the photos too ugly for the blog, I relented, after requests were made for the recipe. Because seriously, this cake is worth sharing, ugly photos and all.
The cake I speak of is the Lemon Icebox Cake. In some circles (like my grandmother’s) it’s a classic that makes people get all misty-eyed. In my circle, it’s more of a novelty, as in “What’s an icebox?”, “Is the cake made of ice?”, that sort of thing.
Meredith, my friend of many months in Seattle, was leaving us. After a year of lawyering it up in the soggy Pacific Northwest, she had a job back in San Francisco waiting for her. I was sad, as she got me through many a rainy day while we were still learning our way around. It’s the rare person that is up for anything (hike? bike ride? lake swimming? bike ride to a hike that ends in lake swimming?). But mostly I just fed her. So for her last meal I wanted something special.
She’s mildly obsessed with lemons, so I considered recreating one of my first desserts at Delancey: Meyer lemon budino with anise caramel syrup, candied pistachios and shortbread. It made sense to end an era with the dessert that started it. But then I remembered this article in Fine Cooking magazine. It was one of those articles where two chefs classically recreate or reinvent a recipe. This had Rose Levy Beranbaum recreating a classic lemon icebox cake. It literally had me drooling. And it looked long and complex, two words that occasionally make my ears perk up in a recipe. So it was decided. Meredith’s last meal (with me) in Seattle would end with a lemon icebox cake.
There were a lot of eggs involved.
First I made an angel food cake, another food item I’ve been hoping to scratch off my list. I’ve heard stories that they were difficult, that the cakes sunk into nothing. I do love a good cake challenge. I started with a fluffy white meringue.
Into that I folded the tiniest amount of flour possible. I spread the batter into an angel food pan (courtesy of Molly, because I have limits to my cake pan collection).
It baked until it was golden and splitting. I pulled it from the oven and hung it upside down to cool. I know. Upside down. I suspect this is what keeps it from sinking, since it’s pretty well adhered to the pan.
Then I made some lemon “fluff”. That involved making a lemon curd that I then folded with whipped cream, that I then folded with gelatin laced meringue.
By the time that was ready my cake had cooled and was ready to be de-panned. I trimmed off the top and sliced it into four discs.
Then back into the angel food cake pan they went, layered with the lemon fluff. From there it was 12 hours of chilling in the fridge while I nervously fretted about how the hell I was going to get it out.
Somehow, it came out. That somehow involved propping it on a wine bottle and flipping everything onto a serving tray. It was a bit theatrical. But it was worth it for sure. Walking out to the table in the backyard carrying this gigantic jiggling mound of yellow fluff I felt like some kind of cake goddess. And it only took me about 16 hours.
LEMON ICEBOX CAKE RECIPE:
The only change I made was to not grease the pan before baking the angel food cake. Multiple sources confirmed that greasing the pan was a no-no.
The Best Shredded Dessert There Ever Was.
Years ago, while in architecture school, I had a roommate named Mimi. Well, actually her name was Omelmominin, but we called her Mimi. She was from Oman, and I have her to thank for introducing me to Middle Eastern desserts. Mimi didn’t cook much, but her mom did. And when her mom decided to spend a summer with us, I was ecstatic. I can still remember clearly the day I came home from work and started grinning ear to ear when I opened the door and smelled deliciousness being made in the kitchen. I almost lost it when I actually got into the kitchen in time to see Mimi’s mom pulling a pan of steaming hot baklava out of the oven. Having only ever seen it in restaurants and grocery stores, it never occurred to me that an actual person could make it for themselves (I was so young then…).
The real surprise though, came next. Because after she sat down the baklava, she pulled out a pan of what looked to me like cooked noodles. It was called konafa, and this my friends, is what I am here to talk about. That dessert stuck with me. It’s a rare one to find outside of the middle east, and even rarer to find one that tastes good. When done right, it is pure creamy bliss. Unfortunately there’s not much of a Middle Eastern population in Seattle, making it even harder to find than in San Francisco. It is meant to be eaten fresh from the oven, so really, I just had to make it for myself.
I started with the pastry, called konafa or kadaif. It can be hard to come by, you’ll probably have to get it from a Middle Eastern grocery store. Since it’s sold frozen, it will require some advance preparation so it can defrost in the fridge for 24 hours beforehand. The first step is to spread it out and unstick the strands that are all mashed together. I found this part to be particularly fun. Afterwards, I set the pastry back in the fridge.
Then I made the cream filling and the syrup that would be poured over the baked konafa. For the filling I cooked milk with rice flour and sugar, straining it afterwards to remove the lumps. The only change I made from the recipe from Claudia Roden was to use rose water in place of the orange blossom water. This was what Mimi’s mom used and I was going straight for nostalgia.
Then I spread half of the pastry (that I had tossed in melted butter) in the bottom of 2 pie pans.
On top of that I spread the chilled cream filling. I topped it with the other half of the pastry.
And then I baked the konafa until golden brown. I poured the cold syrup all over it and sprinkled on some pistachios.
And me and my friends dug in. It’s an odd flavor at first, but after a few bites something happens to the taste. I found that it got sweeter (though not too sweet) and the rosewater started to mellow. It was exactly how I remembered it. Mimi has been back in Oman for several years now, but I like to think that she and her mom would be proud.
KONAFA RECIPE (Claudia Roden):
Syrup:
2 1/4 cups sugar
1 1/4 cups water
2 TBSP lemon juice
2 TBSP rosewater or orange blossom water
- Bring the sugar, water and lemon juice to a boil for about 8 minutes, then remove from heat and stir in the rosewater. Leave to cool, then chill in the fridge.
Cream filling:
2/3 cup rice flour
5 cups milk
1/4 cup sugar
2/3 cup heavy cream
- Mix the rice flour with some of the milk to make a smooth paste. Bring the rest of the milk to a boil, then add the rice flour paste, whisking the milk as you do so to minimize clumping. Immediately turn the heat to very low and let the mixture thicken for about 15 to 20 minutes. Stir occasionally without scraping the bottom of the pan so as not to pick up any burnt bits.
- Add the sugar and stir well. If lumpy, strain. Leave to cool, then add the cream and mix well. Chill in the fridge.
Pastry:
1 lb konafa (also called kadaif) pastry
8oz butter, melted
2/3 cup pistachios, coarsely chopped
- Place the pastry in a large bowl and separate the strands as much as possible. Pour the melted butter over the pastry and, with your fingers, work it in very thoroughly, pulling out and separating the strands so that they don’t stick together and are coated with butter.
- Preheat the oven to 350.
- Spread half the pastry at the bottom of a two 8″ round pie pans. Spread the cream filling over and cover with the rest of the pastry.
- Bake for about 45 minutes, then raise the temperature to 425F and bake for another 15 minutes, until the pastry starts to brown. Remove from the oven. Immediately pour the cold syrup over the hot konafa and sprinkle with the chopped pistachios.
- Before serving, run a knife around the pie to loosen the sides. Slice it up and enjoy!
Blueberries!
They’re here!
Have I mentioned lately that I have a thing for blueberries? Beautiful, blue, bloomy blueberries…
This time of year I turn into a bit of a berry monster. The first couple weeks of berry season I tend to gorge on berries until I just can’t take any more. Then I stop just long enough to panic about their eventual disappearance. In response, I make jam. Lots of jam. I’ll make so much jam that I panic again and start giving it away. Then as I work my way through a couple of jars, I’ll start wishing I hadn’t given so much away. I’ll panic yet again, and if there are still berries around at this point, I’ll probably make more jam. You know, just in case I run out in January. So far this summer I’ve made a sun-cooked strawberry rhubarb jam, a black raspberry jam, and now, this absolutely perfect blueberry jam. It’s so straightforward that it seems silly to even share the recipe. But that’s its genius. Beneath all that obviousness is a jam that is so perfectly spreadable and so… blue. I’ve already eaten it on toast, biscuits, crepes and pound cake. And it’s only been 4 days.
Note on blueberries: With all jams, it is super important to get the best fruit possible. If you don’t want to smash your face into a pile of it, then it’s probably not jam worthy. Yes, it should be that good. I used Billy’s blueberries, arguably the best blueberries in the Puget Sound area.
BLUEBERRY JAM RECIPE:
2 lb 8oz (6 baskets) blueberries
2/3 cup water
2 lb sugar
juice of 3 lemons
1 package of Certo liquid pectin
- Put the blueberries and water in a heavy pot. Bring to a boil, then cover, reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes. The fruit should be quite soft.
- Lower the heat and add the sugar and lemon juice. Stir until the sugar is completely dissolved. Turn up the heat and boil for 5 minutes.
- Add the pectin and boil for another minute or 2, until it has set. I test for set by spooning the jam onto a plate that has ben stored in the freezer. I place it back in the freezer for 10 seconds and then press my finger to it. If it wrinkles, the jam is done.
-Ladle into hot sterilized jars and seal. If you’re storing it at room temperature, it’s a good idea to process them. It’s ready to eat the next day.
The First Fruit Pie of Summer
And so it begins. I know, we’re a bit late, but fruit has finally arrived in the Pacific Northwest. Every year I await with relish the first bloodbath of cherry pitting. Somehow I always forget just how messy it gets and stain everyone and everything within arm’s length of the kitchen. But having my kitchen look like a killing floor is a small price to pay when you’re fruit-starved in June. A visit to the Ballard farmer’s market left me carrying 3 lbs of local cherries (along with some of the teeny-tiniest sweetest little strawberries!) and I was determined to make pie. Because, well, it has just been too long.
As with any pie, I started with my dough. I wanted to make a lattice top, so I decided to use the smear technique (more detailed instruction here) for my pâte brisée dough. This dough gives plenty of flake without all the puffing up of a laminated dough.
I was pleasantly surprised at how quick pie-making has become for me. I have faint memories of spending all day on one pie and feeling it was too prized to eat. Now I can dig in knowing that if I run out, I can just make another!
Since cherry and almond are like peanut butter and jelly (and Pantea’s favorite, this pie is for you!) I whipped up some frangipane to spread on the bottom crust.
Then I loaded her up with cherries.
And got to work on some strips for the top.
It was my first time making a lattice top and now I can’t imagine what took me so long to try. So much pretty for such little effort!
I want so badly to have a beautiful picture of a perfectly baked cherry pie. Unfortunately we tore into this pie so fast I forgot to document! It was a lovely first pie: flaky crust, yummy almond undertones. My only complaint would be that the cherries were just not quite there. Hopefully they’ll sweeten up in the next few weeks. Rumor has it that all the fruit west of the Cascades is waterlogged this year, so it’s going to be a hunt for the good stuff. If anyone can recommend great cherry farms, please share! In the meantime, I’ll be gorging on those teeny tiny strawberries.
Rhubarb. My new favorite.
I just can’t hold this one back anymore. I decided months ago that I wanted to make rhubarb shortcakes for Delancey’s dessert menu. I had a decent recipe for rhubarb compote from my old job, but I knew I could make it better. Me and Molly compared our favorite compote recipes and came up with an ingredients list that was pretty killer. Think vanilla bean. Sugar. Orange liquor. Butter. You toss all these things together and let them sit and get all juicy.
Then you roast them until they soft and bright.
And this is where the magic happens. Strain out the liquid from the rhubarb and set the chunks aside. Then reduce that liquid into a nice syrup. This concentrates the flavor to the point of extreme rhubarb deliciousness. As my friend Meredith at Delancey said “It’s more rhubarb-y than rhubarb.” And that my friends, is what I’m talking about.
We serve it with flakey shortcakes and mascarpone cream.
At home I eat it with buttermilk souffle cakes. The world is your base to put rhubarb on.
RHUBARB COMPOTE:
4 lb rhubarb, diced
2 cups sugar
1 vanilla bean
½ cup grand marnier
4oz butter
- Slice open the vanilla bean and scrape the seeds into the sugar to break up clumps.
- Combine all ingredients, including vanilla bean pod, in a baking pan. Stir well and let sit for 30 minutes.
- Divide into 2 batches and cover pans with aluminum foil. Bake at 325 for 30-40 minutes. You want to cook it long enough for the fruit to still hold it’s shape, but to start to break up as you stir it. At this point remove one pan from the oven and set aside to cool.
- Continue cooking the other pan for 10-15 more minutes, until the fruit turns a brighter shade of red and breaks down more easily. Remove the 2nd pan from the oven and set aside to cool.
- Strain out liquid from both pans into a saucepan. Place rhubarb chunks into a large bowl and set aside.
- Boil rhubarb juice over high heat until it is reduced to a syrup. Be careful not to burn.
- Mix syrup back into rhubarb chunks.
- Is best eaten at room temperature, but store in fridge.
well, it’s about time.
I know, there’s no excuse. The sad thing is that I actually have a stack (if digital files could stack) of photos from my meals this past month. I just haven’t found the motivation to park myself in front of the computer and look at them. Or write about them. There’s been delicious pasta, a rhubarb compote that feels like there’s a rhubarb party in your mouth, an all roasted Easter dinner. I’ve even been maniacally documenting my garden, to explain my away time. But none has made it to the interweb. Until now anyways. My friend Justin was in town from Ecuador for his birthday. Recently he asked if I would someday make him a key lime pie, so me and his girlfriend Meredith decided a surprise pie was in order. Since I like to make my life more complicated whenever possible, I opted for a pie vs. cake challenge. Forever the defender of birthday cakes, I decided this was my chance to convince the world of cake’s subtle awesomeness. Unfortunately my key lime coconut cake kinda blew (shocking, I know!), so I’m only going to share with you the pie. And what a pie it was. Key lime pie with coconut graham crust and a coconut whipped cream on top. Makes me miss living farther south where the key limes are actually green.
As with anything citrus related, there was a lot of squeezing.
Now as far as desserts go, the key lime pie is definitely in the easy category. So easy I even considered not sharing with you. And graham cracker crusts? I admit that I tend to snub my nose at them. But I had this vision of chunky coconut and graham goodness cradling that creamy tartness and I just had to go with it. Let me tell you, this pie, well, it won me over. Big time. There were people at the birthday party thanking me for letting them taste this. LETTING THEM! Ha! So. The crust. it involved toasting some shredded coconut.
And mixing that coconut in with brown sugar, melted butter and ground up graham crackers (I know, I should have made my own).
I pressed that into the pie plate and let it chill in the fridge before baking it.
Then I whipped up the classic key lime filling: egg yolks, sweetened condensed milk and key lime juice. I poured that into the cooled pie crust and baked in on low until it set up.
After the pie chilled for an hour or so, I whipped up some cream that I had earlier steeped with coconut flakes. I spread the coconut cream on top and sprinkled on some toasted coconut flakes. And it was promptly devoured at the party.
KEY LIME PIE RECIPE:
COCONUT GRAHAM CRUST:
1 cup shredded unsweetened coconut
2 cups graham cracker crumbs
3 TBSP light brown sugar
5oz unsalted butter, melted
pinch of salt
- Toast the coconut until lightly browned.
- Cool and add to the rest of the ingredients in a large bowl. Mix well, until everything is moist.
- Press into a buttered pie pan and chill for 15 minutes.
- Bake in a 325 degree oven for 10 minutes.
- Cool completely.
FILLING:
2 14oz cans sweetened condensed milk
6 large egg yolks
1 cup of freshly squeezed key lime juice
- In the bowl of a kitchenaid mixer, with the whip the egg yolks until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Gradually add the condensed milk and beat until light and fluffy, 3 more minutes.
- Scrape down the sides of the bowl and beat in the lime juice.
- Pour the filling into the crust and bake for about 10 minutes, or until the filling is set. Remove from oven and place on a wire rack to cool.
- Once cooled, place in the fridge until serving time. Just before serving whip the coconut cream.
COCONUT CREAM (Claudia Fleming):
3 cups heavy cream
6 TBSP sugar
1 1/2 cups shredded unsweetened coconut
- Place cream and sugar in pot and bring just to boil.
- Pour in coconut and cover. Let steep for 1 hour.
- Strain out coconut and refrigerate for at least 4 hours.
- Whip until thickened.
The upside-down pineapple cake that (my) dreams are made of
A confession: I’m not into tropical fruits. Well, bananas excluded. All others I feel pretty lukewarm about. And pineapples? Yuck. Not a pineapple fan. But then something happened. My friend Josh made this cake for me at my goodbye San Francisco party. It was pure heaven. And now I’m hooked on pineapple upside down cake.
It was my first time even purchasing a pineapple. And photographing it? How do you photograph something so odd looking? I settled on an outside shot, because it just looked weird in my kitchen.
So anyways, the cake.
I started by making a salty, sweet, dark butterscotch sauce. Once ready, I poured the sauce into a 10″ cake pan.
And then I begin the task of dissecting this alien fruit.
And then I got a little obsessive about making perfect little rings out of pineapple, using cookie cutters. I nestled my slices in the butterscotch sauce.
Then I made the most fabulous almondy cake batter.
And spread it all over the pineapples.
I baked the cake until it was all browned and happy looking. It cooled for a bit and then I flipped it out onto a plate. And it looked just like this:
And I loved it. I love pineapple cake. Maybe I even love pineapples.
UPSIDE_DOWN PINEAPPLE CAKE RECIPE:
Butterscotch Sauce:
2 oz butter
1 cup brown sugar, packed
¾ cup heavy cream
1 TBSP vanilla extract
1 tsp salt
- Melt butter in saucepan.
- Add brown sugar, moisten.
- Cook on medium heat 3-5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
- Whisk in cream, vanilla and salt.
- Cook on medium high heat for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Cake:
1 cup + 6 TBSP all-purpose flour
1/2 cup cake flour
6 TBSP (2 oz) ground almonds
3/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups of sugar
9 oz unsalted butter, room temperature
4 large eggs
1 vanilla bean
3/4 cup sour cream
- Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
- Scrape the seeds from the vanilla bean and rub the seeds into the sugar to break up clumps.
- Whisk the flours, almonds, baking powder, and salt in a large mixing bowl.
- Cream butter on medium speed for 1 minute. Slowly stream in sugar while continuing to beat. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition.
- Add dry ingredients alternately with sour cream, beginning and ending with the dries.
- Pour cake batter over butterscotch and pineapple in pan.
- Bake cake until tester inserted into the center comes out clean, about 1 hour. Cool cake in pan on a rack for 10 minutes. Turn cake out onto a platter. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Salted Creme Fraiche Caramels!
Sometimes a project just smacks you on the head.
It’s been a busy two weeks, first a trip to the Cascades (gorgeous!) and then a literal PILE of friends from San Francisco descended on Seattle for a weekend of total gluttony (and all I’m gonna say about that is “Don’t eat a Bacon Cheeseburger at Lunchbox Laboratory before noon. It hurts.”). And the sun. Did I mention the sun? It’s been shining over Seattle for two weeks. There was no way I was spending my days in the kitchen. I was planting a montmorency cherry tree in my front yard. And blueberry and raspberry bushes in the back. And if I can convince John to drive me back to the nursery I suspect we’ll be adding a comice pear tree to the family.
BUT. Back to projects. For some reason caramels just keep popping up. Everywhere. I go out to eat and one gets handed to me with the bill. I go to candy stores and they are there, taunting me. Even Pantea bought me a box as a present before flying away. The weird thing is, for some strange reason, they all tasted like raisins. I can’t explain it, but it was making me think that I left my taste buds in San Francisco. So I decided to make my own. I poked around on the interweb and found a recipe that had the two magic words: salt and creme fraiche. The only changes I made were adding some vanilla and slightly lowering the salt, because I didn’t want that to be ALL one tasted.
First I warmed up some creme fraiche over low heat.
While that was warming I heated up butter, sugar, corn syrup, milk, vanilla bean seeds and salt. This started out easy enough, but it was a tad tricky getting it up to 300 degrees without it burning in spots. There was a lot of stirring involved. I would have taken pictures, but I unfortunately only have 2 hands.
Once it was nice and dark (and 300 degrees) I poured the mixture into a foil lined baking pan. I let it sit overnight to cool.
Then I began the arduous task of slicing it into individual pieces. Can we just take a moment to appreciate that Seattle sunlight?
And candy was had by all! Well, by me and John anyways. I think I’ll be mailing some of this off to friends, because there is just no reason two people need this much deliciousness in their home. And btw, I am happy to report that these caramels did not even remotely taste like raisins. I dare say they were perfect.
SALTED CREME FRAICHE CARAMELS RECIPE:
250 grams sugar
250 grams light corn syrup
250 grams whole milk
200 grams unsalted butter
1 TBSP + 2 tsp salt
1/2 vanilla bean seeds
200 grams creme fraiche
- Line an 8″ square cake pan with foil and brush with melted butter.
- Put creme fraiche in small saucepan over low heat. You want it all loose and melty, not boiling.
- Rub vanilla bean seeds into sugar and place all the ingredients (minus creme fraiche) in a medium sauce pan. Heat over high with a thermometer in place, stirring occasionally. Once it starts to take on color, stir constantly, scraping around the sides to prevent scorching.
- When it reaches 300 degrees, very very slowly pour in the creme fraiche. Since it will probably splatter and attack you, I recommend wearing an oven mitt for protection. Because caramel burns, they hurt. And they scar. Stir the crap out of the caramel, getting all the lumps out.
- Once it is perfectly smooth, pour it into the lined cake pan. Let it cool completely, at least a few hours.
- Turn the candy out onto a cutting board and start slicing. It will stick, but you can easily scoop up the pieces with an offset spatula.
- Wrap them in waxed paper and hand them out to all your friends!
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