Cheesecake Brownies

The Mediterranean sea water are not quiet. Its been a difficult week and a reminder to the complex reality of the region. Enough to remove any shred of optimism. This is when food becomes a form of escapism and perhaps an allegory to how things can be done with a difference.

Not a big fan of brownies, me. Nothing personal. Don’t get me wrong, if they’re there, I’ll have one, perhaps another. It is also true that sometimes a chocolate hit is all that is needed, however I cannot say that thinking of brownies keeps me up at night, as opposed to pastry that is.

Cheesecakes are a different story. They’re tricky to get right, and less forgiving to bake. Spoilt, one might even say. They’re rich, lactic and costly to make, ie high maintenance. Being a lover of all things efficient to the max, cheesecake has not managed to fall into this category.

So far, not so good.

I was pleased to find that 2 minuses (-) (-) equal a major plus (+) in the kitchen. The marriage of chocolate + cheese resulted in wonderful cheesecake brownies. Once they both agreed to leave their egos behind to create a hybrid whole bigger then the sum of its parts, that is.

The brownie base is a rich dark bitter chocolate with chunky pieces of roasted walnuts. The thin cheesecake layer does a balancing act with its creamy tang.

A finishing layer of chocolate fudge rounds it all up. Like the coating of a pill, it goes down smoothly and swiftly.

Now all that’s left to figure is, if cheesecake and brownies can find a way to get along, surely so can people?

Cheesecake Brownies

Recipe adapted from David Leibowitz

1 Brownie pan

The brownies:


85g unsalted butter, cut into pieces


115g dark chocolate (70%cocoa), coarsely chopped

2/3 cup sugar


2 large eggs, at room temperature


½ cup flour


1 Tbs unsweetened cocoa powder


1/8 Tsp salt


1 Tsp vanilla extract


½ cup walnuts, lightly roasted

The cheesecake:


200g cream cheese, at room temperature


1 large egg yolk


5 Tbs sugar


1/8 Tsp vanilla extract

The chocolate fudge coating:

100g dark chocolate (70%cocoa), coarsely chopped

1 Tbs Golden syrup

25g unsalted butter

Line the pan with foil, making sure it goes up all four sides and grease lightly.

Preheat oven to 180C°.

Make the brownies batter:

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter and chocolate over low heat, stirring until smooth. Remove from heat and beat in the 2/3 cup sugar, then the eggs.

Mix in the flour, cocoa powder and salt, then the vanilla and the roasted walnuts. Spread evenly in the prepared pan.

Make the cheesecake batter:

In a separate bowl, beat together the cream cheese, the yolk, 5 tablespoons of sugar, and vanilla until smooth.

Distribute the cream cheese mixture in eight dollops across the top of the brownie mixture, then take a dull knife or spatula and smooth the cream cheese mixture over the chocolate batter.

Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the batter in the centre of the pan feels just set.

Let cool, then make the chocolate fudge coating.

Melt the chocolate in a bain marie (aka double boiler).

Meanwhile, heat the water to boiling in the small, heavy saucepan. When the chocolate has melted remove from the heat and add the butter and golden syrup.

Stir until smooth and allow the mixture to cool, stirring from time to time.

Spread the fudge over the cheesecake and allow it to cool.

Lift out the foil and peel it away.

Cut the brownies into squares and, unless serving right away, keep in an airtight container in the fridge.

Note: to create the pattern I used cocoa powder and a stencil bought from an arts & crafts shop.

What’s in a name

Last week I went to the spice market, in the south of Tel Aviv. I go there when I need to top up my spice supply, in search of a salted herring or just treasure hunting. There is a shop that makes and sells fresh phyllo sheets, kadaif, another is a coffee roaster, therers a shop that sells parking tickets and cures fish and there is a pastry shops in business for over 50 years, where the decor is frozen somewhere areound 50 years ago, making marzipan nuggets for generations.

My loot from the day was a paper bag with 9 pieces of marzipan and a dehydrated mystery fruit.

The market consists of shops on both sides of a narrow one-way street. Bags of dried fruit, nuts, legumes and grains spill onto the pavement in a bid to catch the gaze of passers by. It worked. As I was walking along I noticed a large brown bag with strange looking fruit. They were a dark red colour, and at first i thought they were dates, but dates are juicy, sticky and succulent, while these had the texture of stale marshmallows and a taste reminiscent of a dried apricot.

The vendor told my their name, and said they came from Iran. I have no more on them as google seems too have never of them and proved uninterested and least helpful. I had one or two but decided that more can be done with them. So I boiled them with sugar, water and spices (Anise, cinnamon, cardamon and cloves) and simmred for and hour.

I don’t know their name, but in the words of William Shakespeare “that which we call a rose 
by any other name would smell as sweet”. The taste is in the fruit, not the name.

I'f you can shed a light on the real name of this now gooey succulent toffee candy in a compote, I'll be grateful and enlightened.

Homemade Pop Tarts

When I was young and often complain about a sore bruise, my dad would always suggest amputation. That way, the pain would be gone, or rather, it would be replaced with a different pain, so the old one wouldn't matter. I couldn't really argue with that nor could I wallow in self pity.

I had one of these weeks. Its behind me now, I think. Thank god for weekends. They have that quality of wrapping up the passing week, elevating it to a climax and then washing it all away, for a new slate starting with a new week. Like tax years, but I digress.

Last week everything around me seemed to shatter, crack or drop dead. An exotic looking beatle showed up on my kitchen floor and died. Then, at a yoga class, an enormous dead fruit fly was right by my mattress. Today I nearly ran over a dead rat on the street. As if that doesn’t seem like an omen of sorts the glass pain over my kitchen table decided its time was up and out of the blue just snapped in half. I didn’t know glass could do that, but this was not an ordinary week. To top it all up a drinking glass bounced of the dish rack and on to the floor, smashing to a halt. So that was a week I really needed to get over. I decided to start the week on a right foot, and this was easily achieved by dressing that foot in a new Yves Klein blue pair of shoes. It did the trick. I now have a new blister, marking a new week.

I also made these pop tarts which resulted in a very messy kitchen, and also with a batch of charming, homemade, rough looking pop tarts. The home version is far better then the industrial one, and I get to choose exactly what goes into it, both the dough and the filling.

For a coffee break.

Homemade pop tarts

Adapted from Here, originally seen here

Makes about 9 large pop tarts, or 14 small pop tarts

Pastry

2 cups Unbleached All-Purpose Flour


1 tablespoon sugar


1 teaspoon salt


1 cup unsalted butter, cut into pats


1 large egg


2 tablespoons milk



1 large egg, to brush on pastry before filling

For the filling:

Bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped

Make the dough:

Whisk together the flour, sugar, and salt. Work in the butter until the mixture holds together when you squeeze it, with pecan-sized lumps of butter still visible. Mix the egg and milk, and add it to the dough, mixing just until everything is cohesive. 



Divide the dough in half.

Shape each half into a rough 7 x 12cm rectangle, smoothing the edges.

Roll out immediately; or wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for up to 2 days.

Assemble the tarts:

If the dough has been chilled, remove it from the refrigerator and allow it to soften and become workable, about 15 to 30 minutes. Place one piece on a lightly floured work surface, and roll it into a rectangle about 3mm thick, large enough that you can trim it to an even 20 x 30cm.

Trim off the edges; place the scraps on a baking sheet, and set them aside, along with the rectangle of dough. 



Roll the second piece of dough just as you did the first. Press the edge of a ruler into the dough you’ve just rolled, to gently score it in thirds lengthwise and widthwise; you’ll see nine rectangles. 



Beat the egg, and brush it over the entire surface of the dough. Place a heaping tablespoon of filling into the center of each marked rectangle. Place the second sheet of dough atop the first, using your fingertips to press firmly around each pocket of jam, sealing the dough well on all sides.

Cut the dough evenly in between the filling mounds to make nine tarts.

Press the cut edges with your fingers to seal, then press with a fork, to seal again. 



Gently place the tarts on a lightly greased or parchment-lined baking sheet.

Prick the top of each tart multiple times with a fork; you want to make sure steam can escape, or the tarts will become billowy pillows rather than flat toaster pastries.

Refrigerate the tarts (they don’t need to be covered) for 30 minutes, while you preheat your oven to 175°C. 



Sprinkle the dough trimmings with cinnamon-sugar; these have nothing to do with your toaster pastries, but it’s a shame to discard them, and they make a wonderful snack.

While the tarts are chilling, bake these trimmings for 13 to 15 minutes, till they’re golden brown. 



Remove the tarts form the fridge, and bake them for 25 to 35 minutes, until they’re a light golden brown.

Remove them from the oven, and allow them to cool on the pan. 






Variation: Instead of chocolate chips, fill the tarts with a tablespoonful of jam filling Or cinnamon Filling.

Cinnamon Filling
:

1/2 cup brown sugar


1 - 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon, to taste


4 teaspoons Unbleached All-Purpose Flour 


Bibingka

Every so often a gem lands on my lap. In my case this usually refers to a recipe, most probably a sweet one.

With an attraction to the far east’s culinary offerings, a world of flavours and textures so far from my daily reality it’s the second best thing to travel, and cheaper by far. So I was delighted when I saw a recipe for Bibingka.

Bibingka is a Filipino dessert made with rice flour (that’s right, no gluten!), condensed milk, and coconut. Its chewy, gooey and not too sweet with a mild coconut whiff. It has a texture that is midway between a flan and the Japanese mochi, so if you’re a fan of either, this one’s for you. I read that traditionally it is served at any sort of gathering, so I chose to make it for Keren’s ‘Friday afternoon on the porch birthday do’, and I think it went pretty well. There is nothing quite like this in the local food-scape and I was pleased to see that it was all gone within minutes. It couldn’t be easier to make and the only obstacle is tracking down the ingredients. You should be fine at an Asian market or food store.

The next time ill make this cake, and there will be a next time, I’ll probably play more with the ingredients. I suspect the addition of cherries to the batter will add a nicely balanced acidity to the equation.

Bibingka 


(Adapted from here)

Makes 24 pieces

½ can coconut milk 


½ can sweetened condensed milk

150 gr butter, melted


3 eggs


1 jar macapuno coconut strings in heavy syrup*


230 gr box mochiko sweet rice flour (look for glutinous rice flour)

½ cup packed brown sugar


1/8 cup finely chopped almonds

A few droplets of vanilla extract (optional)

A handful of candied peanuts, roughly chopped

Ground cinnamon

Preheat oven to 190°C and line a brownies tray with parchment paper.

In a large mixing bowl, beat coconut milk, condensed milk, and melted butter until combined. Add the eggs one at a time and beat until combined.

Add the macapuno coconut strings with the syrup.

Beat in the mochiko flour gradually (do not pour all at once or it will get clumpy), then add the brown sugar and almond meal.

Once you achieve an even consistency, add vanilla extract and beat until combined.

Pour batter into the baking tray.

Sprinkle evenly the roughly chopped candied peanuts and bake until lightly browned, about 45 minutes.

Sprinkle cinnamon evenly over the cake and continue to bake until golden brown. When a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, between 2-15 minutes longer, the cake is ready.

Remove from pan and let cool on the parchment paper.

Once cooled down, cut into squares and serve.

You can store the cake in an airtight container at room temperature for 1-2 days or in the refrigerator for 1-2 weeks.

Vegetable Spaghetti

My week began with me in the kitchen baking. There were coffee cakes, savoury cakes, a tart, brownies, muffins and cornbread. A birth in the family and an independence day celebratory BBQ later, it is finally the weekend. Instead of sleeping in late, I dragged myself out of bed on Friday morning for to see what I could come up with at the farmers market. It is beyond crowded and I get annoyed from the pushing and shoving, but people are going crazy for high quality, local and seasonal produce like groupies in line for an 80’s revival (?) concert, so I cant stay mad for long. Getting by in the market is a precise task that calls for a surgical concentration; a quick ‘in and out’ act and I am back on my bicycle with a bag full of goodies and nobody gets hurt. Its almost as if it didnt happen only I have proof of purchase.

I always seem to find treasures at the farmers market. Once it was chalk dry tart mini apples, there were lace long mulberries and last week I walked home with a brown paper bag full of custard marrow.

After reading in Jane Grigson’s vegetable book about vegetable spaghetti I was both intrigued and mighty pleased to find it in the market yesterday. Like the custard marrow, the squagehtti is a type of squash. It has a thready flesh reminiscent of pasta, hence its name. I boiled it, drizzled cold pressed sunflower seed oil, crushed salt and white pepper corns and topped it with roasted pumpkin seeds. A perfect light lunch.

Tell you what though, a drizzle of good raw tahini and smoked paprika elevated it to an even higher ground.

Vegetable spaghetti with pumpkin seeds and white peppercorn

Vegetable spaghetti

Sea salt

Freshly ground white pepper corns

Cold pressed sunflower seed oil

A handful of roasted pumpkin seeds

Tahini (optional)

Smoked paprika (optional)

Push in a skewer in the Vegetable spaghetti to make a hole and boil in plenty of salted water. It should be ready in 30-45 minutes, but pierce it with a knife to make sure the centre is tender. Remove and drain, then cut in lengthways to reveal the strings of flesh inside.

Remove the seeds and save for later.

Drizzle with the oil, season with salt & pepper and sprinkle the pumpkin seeds.

You can also drizzle with tahini and smoked paprika.

About the seeds:

Being a lover of all things efficient, once boiled and sliced open I removed the seeds and roasted them (thanks to Kate’s Halloween snack of homemade roasted pumpkin seeds I recall having for breakfast…).

Toss them in olive oil and seasoning, roast in 150°C preheated oven for 30 minutes, until golden brown.

Aubergine jam

In the past few months I have entered a new phase. I discovered canning and home food preservation. Yes, its economic, and I get to enjoy seasonal produce at its peak for a little while longer, and yes, its efficient, as I like things to be. But that’s not it. With my tendency to keep things, gather and collect objects, recipes and memories… canning has become a valuable tool enabling me to carry on collecting memories through food like the unexpected batch of fragrant sweet tomatoes given to me in the middle of winter, or the bag of lemons that made their way from a distant relative’s lemon tree. Rather then enjoying them here and now, canning allows me to extend the flavour of the memory just a little bit longer. Now my fridge is filled with a surprising tangy banana chutney, canned tomatoes, a confit of fresh garlic and pickled lemons, each labelled with a memory of a time and a place.

This week I added to my collection a wonderful aubergine jam. That’s right. Last week I went to Mahne Yuda, a rather pricy picturesque market in Jerusalem. I headed beyond the main passages and behind the stalls to a particular stand that sells vegetables from the west bank. That’s code for truly local and seasonal produce, with vegetables that look like they used to when I was growing up, awkward, imperfect and bursting with flavour and aroma.

I took home a bag of aubergines the shape of miniature light bulbs, covered in a glistening dark skin. Determined to preserve this gift to myself (much much cheaper then shoes).

Commonly served during the mimuna on a freshly fried Mufletta the flavour of the aubergine comes through, infused with the spices and absorbed with the sugar. This is lush on toast, a warm buttery pastry, or as a topping for yogurt. I even served it on top of a homemade vanilla ice cream with crushed salted caramel peanuts. That worked rather well to put it mildly.

Aubergine jam

Based on a recipe by Erez Komarovsky

Ingredients

2 medium sized aubergines or 8 baby aubergines

2 cups water

1 ½ cup unrefined cane sugar

1 Tsp cinnamon or 1 cinnamon stick

3 cloves

1 Anise star

1/2 freshly squeezed lemon juice

Remove the aubergine’s stalk, but leave the tip in tact, which acts as a handle for easy grip.

Using a fork prick the entire aubergine skin.

Place the aubergines in a medium sized saucepan, add 2 cups of water and bring to a boil.

Cook for 5 minutes, remove and drain the aubergines.

In a separate saucepan combine the sugar and spices. Add the aubergines and cook on a low heat until you reach the desired consistency, about 2-3 hours.

Put a saucer in the freezer and sterilize a jar: Wash a glass jar with the lid and soak in boiling water for 10 minutes.

Set out to dry upside down on a clean kitchen towel.

Take the saucer out of the freezer, and put a drop of jam on it. Tilt the saucer, and see if the jam is set. If not, let it boil for another minute, then test again until you've reached the desired consistency.

Stir in the lemon juice.

Pour the jam into the jar until full, wipe carefully if there was any spillage and close the lid tightly. Let cool to room temperature upside-down on the counter, then store in a cool and dark place for a few months.

The Mimuna Madness