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Homemade Ricotta Revisited

 
 

I blogged about Homemade Ricotta about a year ago. I do realize I have been revisiting many recipes lately, but frankly, it's fun to go back and try something I made a year ago now that I understand cooking and baking better than I did in the past.  Also, I'm super busy. 

Hey, at least I'm honest.

Here is what I said at the time:

I first learned about the wonders of fresh ricotta cheese after attempting a scrambled egg recipe in Bon Appetit Magazine that called for the egg to be cooked at a very low heat, scrambling constantly, and finished off with a tablespoon of fresh ricotta cheese.  

I was confused.  Eggs and ricotta cheese? Really?  I had to try it.  But it was imperative that I get fresh ricotta cheese.  So I headed over to the Dupont Circle Farmers Market in Washington, DC and in search of my cheese.  Luckily, I was able to have a taste at the stand.

It was a whole new world. I never knew that ricotta cheese was not lumpy, curdled, watered-down goopy goo!  It was light! And creamy! And probably could work in scrambled eggs!

Well, this ricotta did work very well in scrambled eggs. But, frankly, it's delicious on it's own. When I last made it, I burned the crap out of it, because I didn't realize that the curds had already formed. So instead of letting it cook for just two or three minutes, as the recipe states, I turned the heat up to high and cooked it for an hour. When I ate it, it actually tasted like what I would imagine fire to taste like were I to eat it. If burned could be a noun, this is what I tasted like. Like burned. 

See. This is why I revisit recipes.

This time, I was much more careful to not burn my ricotta. And it came out perfectly. Light. Fluffy. Creamy. And so much better than that stuff at the supermarket. 

Except, this time, I scraped the bottom of the pan, so little brown bits of slightly overcooked cheese made their way into the cheese. 

You can't win them all. Next time, it'll be perfect. It won't have brown bits and it won't taste like burned. Click here for the recipe.

TWD: Apple Apple Bread Pudding

 

I wasn't going to make this one this week - Jack and I had indulged way too much on our first trip down to Long Beach Island for the summer.  To use the famous saying, I was like a fat kid in a candy store.  And I often know when I shouldn't be eating something, but it's like I have an angel and a devil on my shoulder, and the devil is actually that fat kid saying, "Eat it! What's one bite?" which then turns into three days of indulgence.  

It's not pretty.

What is it about the summer or being at the beach that makes me want to eat bad food?  Burgers. Frozen Margaritas. Elephant Ears. Fudge. Birthday Cake. TWO PIECES! Ugh. I'm so ashamed. 

When I told Jack I was thinking of skipping the recipe, he told me I should make it and bring it into work, as I haven't been blogging that much lately (I really am trying to get back on track. I have so many photos and no write ups about my food!).  Also, the lovely Elizabeth of Cake or Death chose this recipe, so I definitely didn't want to skip out, because I love her and her blog.  Even if the recipe did involve making custard (which I love to have spoonfuls of because the fat kid devil tells me to) and soggy carbs. Now, we all know how I feel about soggy carbs. But then I had some tiramisu bread pudding and was turned into a skeptical bread pudding lover.  Would I be fully turned with this recipe?

Well, let me tell you something. I was actually excited about it. Tender Gala apples, tossed in a sweet caramel sauce dripping with butter.  Complex apple pudding, brimming with notes of nutmeg, cinnamon and clove.  Sweet and creamy vanilla custard. And, of course, bread. Yummy, delicious bread. 

I was so mad that I was not going to allow myself to have more than a bite.  And I shut that inner fat kid up real fast when she suggested that I eat this with a big scoop of ice cream.  Wouldn't the ice cream be so good?

NO. NO IT WOULDN'T.

Aw, who am I kidding. Of course it would.  But I had to stop myself. At just one bite. Stupid willpower. This was good. SO good.  So good that I swore that the one day in my life that I'm not on a diet, I'm going to eat the whole damn thing. With a pint of ice cream. 

TWD: Classic Quick Berry Tart

   
You know the term, "I'd lose my own head if it wasn't attached?"  That was me making this tart. 

I had such high aspirations for this tart.  I was going to make two different tarts - one for me to take to work and one for Jack to take to work.  I wanted to make the classic version with strawberries and blueberries and then a tropical take with a coconut rum pastry cream and kiwis, papaya, and mango. I hit up the fruit stand and $15 later, I walked away with two pints each of strawberries and blueberries, a mango, a papaya, and four kiwis. 

Have I mentioned that I love NYC fruit stands?

Because I think I'm so super good at baking, I decided to double everything up at the same time. I put together two separate pots with the cornstarch, sugar, and egg yolks whisked together.  In one 2-cup measuring cup, I poured in 2 cups of whole milk for the plain tart. In the other, I pour in 1 1/4 cups whole milk and 3/4 cup coconut milk for the tropical tart. Of course, I then realize I don't have a third (and a fourth) heavy bottomed saucepan to boil the milk. So what do I do?  I decide to heat the milk up in the microwave. 

This is where I should have known it was all going to go downhill. Strike one.

The milk didn't heat up. I remember that I had a third saucepan that I rarely use because liquids take forever to come to a boil, but I had no other option. I poured one of the glasses of milk in and turned on the burner. I didn't think anything of the fact that the milk wasn't boiling due to the non-boiling properties of said pot, until, of course, the kitchen began to smell of burnt eggs. Why did it smell like burnt eggs, you ask?  Because I lit the wrong burner and cooked one of my two egg/cornstarch/sugar mixtures.

Strike two. 

I cracked open 6 more eggs (leaving me with a total of 18 egg whites to make lots of my crappy, epic fail macarons with) and made more of the mixture.  

Finally, I finished my two pastry creams (the second of which - the coconut rum version - I slightly overcooked because I left the heat on medium high as I thickened the pastry cream, but saved before it turned to scrambled eggs. Also, I couldn't taste any coconut or rum when it was finished - strike two and three-quarters), and began to slice my fruits.

First, I took out the kiwis. They felt slightly hard, but I convinced myself it was due to the slightly freezing temperatures in New York City today (seriously, May, what's going on?).  Nope. Unripe. Mangoes? Beautifully golden and red on the outside? Unripe. Papaya? Well... I hate papaya.  It always looks so delicious and juicy, but really just tastes like feet.

Finally, I baked my first tart shell to a beautiful golden brown. I put that to the side, washed out my tart pan, and pressed in the second dough. 

Fifteen minutes later, I looked at the clock timer, which I never set. Great, I thought. A burnt tart dough. Strike three and three quarters. I'm so bad, I'm over-striking out. 

I approximated that I put the tart in roughly 12 minutes earlier, so I set the timer for 13 more minutes.  12 minutes later, I worried about the tart that I thought was burning in the oven, so I ran to the oven door and whipped it open, apprehensive that I would be greeted by a dark brown, crumbly mess. Instead, I was greeted by... an empty oven.

I looked around, utterly confused.  Did I take the tart out of the oven? I checked the kitchen counter. No tart there. I opened the oven again, thinking I missed it. Empty. 

I was seriously stunned. "Jack," I yelled out. "Did you eat my tart shell?"

"What?" he asked, confused?

"Did you take my tart shell out of the oven and eat it?"

"Yes," he answered sarcastically.  "Because that's what I do. Eat hot tart shells straight from the oven."

A lightbulb went off.  I never put the tart in!  I placed it in the freezer to firm up the dough a bit after pressing it into the pan. I laughed to myself. Typical Teanna. 

So no tropical fruit tart for me.  Nor was this a quick tart by any means. In fact, it took me two hours of frustration and confusion, but all for my own faults. I'm sure that this tart is very quick. And easy. But I can assure you, it's really tasty. A great summer tart to make in a pinch. 

Unless you're me, of course.

Check out Cooking with Christine for the recipe and don't forget to check out the rest of TWD for more tarts! 

Dulce de Leche Cake with Dulce De Leche Whipped Cream. Revised for Cinco De Mayo.

 

Actually, this cake wasn't revised FOR Cinco De Mayo, per se, but I just happened to make this cake on Cinco De Mayo, so I'm just going to run with it.  I really should call this a Cajeta Cake, as that is what dulce de leche is called in Mexico. 

Cajeta! 

Remember last time I made this cake, I felt that the frosting was way too sweet for the cake?  Frankly, I should have known, as it was a Paula Deen recipe, and her recipes are either meant to clog your arteries or give you a spike in natural insulin.

This time around, I looked at the frosting for the Dulce de Leche cake in Sky High Cakes.  I wanted something lighter to compliment the rich dulce de leche filling, and this frosting is a dulce de leche whipped cream frosting. 

How good does that sound?

I didn't feel like making the dulce de leche from scratch, so I just bought some homemade dulce de leche, made some homemade whipped cream, and folded in the dulce de leche and tossed in some cinnamon for good measure.

And I basically couldn't stop eating little spoonfuls of this whipped cream. At 6:30 in the morning.  Needless to say, sitting here at 8:10 am right about to go to work, I feel like crap because I just ate 1/4 a cup of dulce de leche whipped cream for breakfast.  And a tiny bit of this cake.

So let's talk about the cake, shall we?  

We all know I loved the Cooks Illustrated White Cake recipe. I love the Cooks Illustrated White Cake recipe with dulce de leche oozing from the layers.  And now, I love the Cooks Illustrated White Cake recipe with dulce de leche oozing from the layers topped with dulce de leche whipped cream frosting.  Oh yes. This cake is pure perfection. 

However, I did refrigerate the cake, to firm up the dulce de leche filling (which, when I say oozing, I mean, it OOZED. Right out of the cake layers.  I guess I should have realized that dulce de leche "sauce" is not the same as dulce de leche.). So now the cake tastes like a cake that has been refrigerated.  I'm really hoping that it regains its normal texture by the time I put this cake out to be consumed at work around noon. 

Also, I tried to put a pretty design in the side of the whipped cream, but I failed miserably, as you can tell by the photo below.  This cake may not be as pretty as the original, but I'd take this one any day. 

Old Cake:  So pretty.

   

New cake.  Well.  I was in a rush. 


 

Oh, and I topped it off with some Lindt Chili Chocolate shards. You know. For Cinco De Mayo. And of course, when Jack saw the cake, he said:

Oh, the Stegosaurus cake.

Thanks, Jack.  

Dulce de Leche Cake with Dulce De Leche Whipped Cream

• Cake recipe adapted from Cooks Illustrated (I also made a 3-layer cake, but this recipe is for a 2-layer cake.  To add the 3rd layer, increase ingredients by 1/2)
• 2 1/4 cups cake flour (9 ounces), plus more for dusting the pans 
  1 cup whole milk, at room temperature 
  6 large egg whites (3/4 cup), at room temperature 
  1 teaspoon vanilla extract 
  1 3/4 cups granulated sugar (12 1/4 ounces) 
  4 teaspoons baking powder 
  1 teaspoon table salt 
  12 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 1/2 sticks), softened but still cool
• Caramel Frosting

Dulce De Leche (storebought or homemade)

• 
  
• Set oven rack in middle position. (If oven is too small to cook both layers on a single rack, set racks in upper-middle and lower-middle positions.) Heat oven to 350 degrees. Spray two 9-inch round cake pans with nonstick cooking spray; line the bottoms with parchment or waxed paper rounds. Spray the paper rounds, dust the pans with flour, and invert pans and rap sharply to remove excess flour. 
• 
  
• Pour milk, egg whites, and extract into 2-cup glass measure, and mix with fork until blended. 
• Mix cake flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in bowl of electric mixer at slow speed. Add butter; continue beating at slow speed until mixture resembles moist crumbs, with no powdery streaks remaining. 
• 
  
• Add all but 1/2 cup of milk mixture to crumbs and beat at medium speed (or high speed if using handheld mixer) for 1 1/2 minutes. Add remaining 1/2 cup of milk mixture and beat 30 seconds more. Stop mixer and scrape sides of bowl. Return mixer to medium (or high) speed and beat 20 seconds longer. 
• 
  
• Divide batter evenly between two prepared cake pans; using rubber spatula, spread batter to pan walls and smooth tops. Arrange pans at least 3 inches from the oven walls and 3 inches apart. (If oven is small, place pans on separate racks in staggered fashion to allow for air circulation.) Bake until thin skewer or toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, 23 to 25 minutes. 
• 
  
• Let cakes rest in pans for 3 minutes. Loosen from sides of pans with a knife, if necessary, and invert onto wire racks. Reinvert onto additional wire racks. Let cool completely, about 1 1/2 hours.
• 
  
• Layer cakes with dulce de leche, frost with caramel buttercream and decorate as you wish! 

Dulce De Leche Whipped Cream

1 pint heavy cream

1 tsp vanilla

1/4 cup confectioner's sugar

1/2 cup dulce de leche

1 tsp cinnamon

In a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, or using a hand mixure, mix heavy cream, cinnamon and confectioners sugar until cream holds stiff peaks.  Fold in dulce de leche until incorporated and there are no streaks remaining. Refrigerate until ready to use. 

TWD: Burnt Sugar Ice Cream

 
 

I have three food weaknesses in life:  Cheeseburgers, Frozen Margaritas, and Frozen Yogurt. 

Wait. Four. Lucky Charms.  Delicious, marshmallowy Lucky Charms.

I only allow myself to eat cheeseburgers on very special occasions, ie. weekend barbecues in the summer. Every single weekend. 

I only allow myself to drink frozen margaritas on very special occasions, ie. warm days in the summer. AKA pretty often.

I allow myself to eat frozen yogurt every day.  Every. Single. Day. 

No, I don't have it everyday, but if I did, I don't feel bad about it.  

In college, however, I lived on a steady diet of gutted bagels and unlimited frozen yogurt from the dining hall (aka Graham dining hall for all of you Syracuse University people).  I figured if I took the doughy insides out of my daily bagels, I would be allowed to eat more frozen yogurt.  Ahhh, college naivete. 

But when I say I love frozen yogurt, I really mean I love ice cream, but I do NOT allow myself to eat ice cream. Seriously, I used to convince myself that I didn't like ice cream and instead thought frozen yogurt was better.  Who was I kidding?  That's like saying freeze dried ice cream tastes better than Hagen Daaz. It's just a lie developed to convince astronauts that what they have is delicious. A big, fat lie, freeze dried lie. 

When it comes down to it, I love the rich, creamy, smooth texture of ice cream.  You can beat an ice cream that's been made with a custard.  And this ice cream is at the top, top, top of my ice cream experience.  A complex burnt sugar ice cream that really just tastes like the most wonderful caramel ice cream you have ever tasted.  It was so good.  The custard was so good - I considered taking a swig out of the glass I let it cool in before I poured it into my ice cream maker, but then I thought better of myself. But the fact that I even considered it?  Well, that's just disgusting.  

But that's how good this ice cream is. So good you want to drink it melted out of a glass. Bottoms up.

Check out Becky's site, Project Domestication, for the recipe!  And check out the rest of TWD!