Beignets

The history of doughnuts is intrinsically linked to the celebration of Mardi Gras. "Fat Tuesday" -- the Christian day of revelry and indulgence before the austere season of Lent -- features dough deep-fried in fat as its main staple.

Among the first foods to be fried were Roman scriblita, a precursor to today's doughnuts and fritters. Originating in the medieval era, most Christian European traditions have developed a version of fried dough for Shrove Tuesday (another name for the day before Lent starts). The rich treats presented a way to use up all of the butter, sugar and fat in the house prior to the self-denying diets of Lent. Traditionally it was an opportunity for indulgence, a day when, once a year, communities would go through the labor-intensive and expensive process of deep-frying in order to partake in a luxurious treat.

Beignets are the most widely known Mardi Gras doughnut. The recipe for the light and eggy pillows of fried dough was brought to Louisiana when French Acadians were deported there in the 18th century. But there is another, lesser-known Carnival doughnut in New Orleans — calas. Sweet, fried rice dumplings, calas originate from the West African enslaved people who were brought to the area in the late 1700s. The recipe was passed on among Catholic African-American families who served them at Mardi Gras and other celebrations, and they're making a comeback in New Orleans restaurants, where they're offered as both savory and sweet dishes.

As it goes with traditional recipes that have undergone many relocations, transitions and generations, there are many variations and not one definitive source for all of these varying Carnival delights. Whichever variety you choose, celebrate Mardi Gras the way it's supposed to be — with a hearty helping of dough and fat.

A longer version of this post was originally published on NPR's Kitchen Window

Beignets 
Adapted from What's Cooking America 

I recommend making the dough the night before so you can fry and eat them fresh first thing the next morning. 

Makes 18 to 24 beignets 

Ingredients
1 cup lukewarm water 
3 teaspoons active dry yeast 
1/4 cup white sugar, plus a pinch 
4 cups all-purpose flour 
1/2 teaspoon salt 
1 large egg, beaten 
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened 
1/2 cup evaporated milk 
Vegetable oil for deep-frying 
Powdered sugar for dusting 

Directions
1. In a medium bowl, place water, yeast and pinch of sugar. Whisk together and let sit to dissolve yeast, 5 to 10 minutes. 

2. In a large bowl or bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook, combine flour, 1/4 cup sugar and salt. Add yeast mixture and stir until incorporated. Add egg, butter and evaporated milk and mix until well combined and dough is smooth. 

3. Remove dough from bowl and roll out onto a lightly oiled surface. Form dough into a ball and place in a lightly greased bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until chilled, 3 to 4 hours or overnight. 

4. Once chilled, remove dough from the refrigerator and roll out on a lightly floured surface about 1/2-inch thick. Cut into squares and place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Cover with a cloth and set aside while you heat the oil. 

5. In a deep heavy saucepan with high sides, heat 3 inches of oil to 360-375 degrees F. Working in batches, fry the beignets for 2 minutes on each side, until puffed and golden brown. Using a wire skimmer or slotted spatula, transfer to a paper towel-lined plate to drain. Transfer to a baking sheet and let cool completely. Dust with powdered sugar and serve warm or at room temperature.



Related recipes:
Apple Cider Doughnuts
Cardamom Doughnut Muffins

Curtains for NPR Kitchen Window

Bang Bang Pie's Shaker Lemon Pie from Outside the Pizza Box: Chicago's New Pie Scene

I came back from the woods to the sad news that NPR's Kitchen Window had folded. The blog, which was edited by Bonny Wolf and featured weekly stories and related recipes, was not only a great writing outlet for me, but it was something I looked forward to every week. With its illuminating pieces by respected food writers on a single theme, highlighting a specific ingredient, or exploring traditional foodways, it was a trusted source of great food writing and great recipes. I'm going to miss it (though I'm glad to still be able to work with Bonny via her excellent site, American Food Roots). 

Fig-Pistachio Tarte Tatin from The Pies of Late Summer

In celebration and a bit of mourning over the end of Kitchen Window, here's a little round-up of some of the stories and photos I did for them. Don't stop there though--the Kitchen Window archive remains alive, and there you can find an examination on sorghum's move into the mainstream, a collection of recipes from Tasmania, a meditation on a meal celebrating early African-American cookbook authors, and much more. I hope it remains up in perpetuity.


Beignets from Fat Tuesday: The Many Different Doughnuts of Mardi Gras

Speculoos Icebox Pie from Belgian Sweets Not Just for 'Sinterklaas'

Peppermint Pattie Tart from Get Freshly Minted This Holiday Season

Blueberry Buckle from Cobbled Together: American Fruit Desserts

Blueberry Buckle

Portions of this upcoming post originally appeared in the piece "Cobbled Together: American Fruit Desserts" on NPR's Kitchen Window, which you can find here. 

I've been making this Blueberry Buckle recipe for about 8 years now. I first made it at my friend Jamie's family cottage in Maine, the summer after I'd graduated from college. In anticipation of my trip, my dad had mailed me a copy of the Cook's Illustrated recipe, and on Mt. Desert Island, we acquired fresh wild blueberries and whipped up the buckle in the vintage blue and white cottage kitchen. Since there were only the two of us there, we left most (okay half) of the buckle in the freezer for Jamie's parents, and I think it's the reason they've continued to invite me back. 

The buckle is the most distant cobbler relative, as it has a cake-like base, rather than a biscuit or pastry crust. The name comes not from shoes, but the fact that it "buckles" under the weight of all the fruit and  buttery crumble top. Though these recipe uses a dense almost cookie-weight batter, it does indeed fall a bit in the middle, but that's the berries' fault, not the baker's, and the glut of fruit is what makes it special. Blueberries are classic buckle ingredients, but any type of berry will work--now that we're past blueberry season, try it with fall-bearing raspberries, or anything you put away in the freezer. The addition of the crumble top yields a coffee cake-esque treat that's equally good for breakfast or dessert.

Blueberry Buckle
Adapted from Cook's Illustrated July/August 2005

Ingredients
For the buckle:
1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
10 Tblsp. (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
2/3 c. granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
Zest from 1 lemon
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 large eggs
4 c. blueberries, low or high-bush, preferably fresh, though frozen will also work

For the streusel:
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 c. light brown sugar, packed
2 Tblsp. granulated sugar
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
3/4 tsp. salt
4 Tblsp. unsalted butter, at room temperature and cut into chunks

Directions
1. For the streusel topping, in a medium bowl, whisk together flour, sugars, spices, and salt until well combined. With a wooden spoon, stir in the chunks of butter, then work butter into the dry ingredients with your hands until the mixture resembles wet sand. Set aside on the counter while you prepare the rest of the buckle.

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 9-inch cake pan, line the bottom with parchment paper, then grease and flour the paper and sides of the pan. In a small bowl, whisk together flour and baking powder and set aside.

3. In a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream butter, sugar, salt, and lemon zest until combined and fluffy. Beat in vanilla and add eggs one at a time, beating until incorporated. Gradually add the flour mixture while the mixture is on low speed. Mix well to combine, but do not overmix. Batter will be thick. With a rubber spatula, gently fold in the berries until incorporated.

4. Pour filling into the greased and floured pan, spreading evenly. Scatter streusel top over the buckle batter. Bake about 50-60 minutes, until toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool on a wire rack and serve slightly warm or at room temperature.

Related recipes:
Apple-Raspberry Pandowdy
Blueberry Icebox Pie
Peach-Blackberry Cobbler
Plum-Cherry Crumble

Apple-Raspberry Pandowdy

Portions of this upcoming post originally appeared in the piece "Cobbled Together: American Fruit Desserts" on NPR's Kitchen Window, which you can find here. 

"Shoofly pie and apple pandowdy makes your eyes light up, your tummy say howdy!" my dad used to sing to me, a nod to his Pennsylvania upbringing. But I'd never ate a pandowdy or let alone knew what it was, until I was researching it a few weeks ago for the Kitchen Window piece. My research yielded some information, though the origins of the strange name are still unclear (though I do have a query into the Library of Congress about it, so stay tuned...). Some consider "dowd-y" to be a variation of the word "dough," and others conjecture that it descended from the term "pandoulde," a regional British word for custard. 

What we do know is that the pandowdy has New England roots and can be made with either typical pie dough or a biscuit crust.  It's a very close relative to the cobbler, though it varies in two distinct ways: Molasses is used to sweeten the fruit, and just before it's finished baking, the crust is sliced or crumbled into pieces and mixed with the fruit juices to create dumpling-like morsels scattered among the thick filling. For those of you paralyzed by the task of making the perfect-looking crust, the pandowdy may just be your dessert. You'll spoon the filling over it anyway, so who cares what it looks like?

Traditionally, pandowdy was made with apples, but I threw in some raspberries to add tartness and take advantage of the fall-bearers. Try using late-summer or early-fall apples like Gravenstein, Northern Spy, or Benhams-- a variety popular in Kentucky and Virginia. The result is an earthy dessert with a rich, hearty flavor (you should be a molasses lover). It pairs well with a lightly-spiced ice cream, like cardamom, or just plain vanilla. I like to bake mine in a cast iron skillet, but if you don't have one, a pandowdy can be made just as well in a 8- or 9-inch square or round baking dish.

Apple-Raspberry Pandowdy

Ingredients
For the biscuit top:
1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 Tblsp. granulated sugar + 1 tsp. for sprinkling
1 Tblsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 c. (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cold and cut into 1/2-inch chunks
3/4 c. whole milk

For the filling:
5 apples (about 2 lbs.) cored and cut into 1/2-inch wedges
1 c. raspberries
2 Tblsp. all-purpose flour
1/3 c. molasses
1/3 c. granulated sugar
2 tsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. salt
2 Tblsp. unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch chunks

Directions
1. For the biscuit top, in a medium bowl whisk together flour, 1 Tblsp. sugar, baking powder, and salt. With a knife and fork or pastry cutter, cut in the butter until the mixture resembles cornmeal and peas. Add milk and stir gently to combine. Form dough into a ball and cover with plastic wrap. Store in the fridge for at least 20 minutes while you prepare the filling.

2. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, combine apples, berries, flour, molasses, sugar, and lemon juice. Stir in cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, and salt. Pour filling into a 9-inch cast iron skillet. Cover with foil and bake for 25 minutes.

3. While filling is baking, on a clean, floured surface, roll out the biscuit dough into a 9-10-inch circle. Set aside.

4. Once filling has baked, remove from oven and cover the filling with the biscuit dough, tucking any overhang into the sides of the skillet and sprinkling with the remaining teaspoon of sugar. Return to the oven and bake for 20-25 minutes more, until biscuit dough is light golden and filling is bubbling.

5. Remove from the oven and with a sharp knife, cut biscuit top into squares. Spoon some of the steaming filling over the biscuit and return to oven to bake 5-10 minutes more. Remove from oven and let cool. Serve slightly warm.

Related recipes:
Cranberry-Lime Galette
Peach-Blackberry Cobbler
Plum-Cherry Crumble

Plum-Cherry Crumble

Portions of this upcoming post originally appeared in the piece "Cobbled Together: American Fruit Desserts" on NPR's Kitchen Window, which you can find here.

Next up in the cobbler family--the crisp (or crumble, as it's called in England), whichever you call it, it's the cobbler's thrifty cousin, sporting a simple crumbled top of sugar, flour, butter and sometimes oats or nuts. All of that is simply scattered over a fruit filling — a great choice for the crust-fearing baker. Of course, you can easily turn this into a pie or tart with the addition of a bottom crust. My mom's Crumble Top Apple Pie (made with Northern Spies, of course) is one of my favorites and this Whole Wheat Plum Crumble Tart has become a go-to recipe.

Though unless you've stockpiled some tart cherries in cans or freezer bags, you'll likely have a hard time getting your hands on tart cherries this time of year. But this crumble recipe would work well with any kind of stone fruit for a dark, rich and smooth filling, that's made sweet and crunchy by the buttery almond crumble top.

Plum-Cherry Crumble

Ingredients
For filling:
2 c. tart cherries, pitted
1 1/2 lbs. plums (about 4 c. or 9 plums), cut into 1/4-inch slices (or substitute your favorite stone fruit)
1 tsp. orange zest
1/3 c. brown sugar, packed
2 Tblsp. cornstarch

For crumble top:
3/4 c. sliced almonds
1 c. all-purpose flour
1/4 c. light brown sugar, packed
1/4 c. granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 c. (1 stick) unsalted butter at room temperature, cut into 1/2-inch chunks

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a medium bowl combine cherries, plums, orange zest, brown sugar, and cornstarch. Pour the filling into a 9x9-inch baking pan.

2. In a small bowl combine sliced almonds, flours, sugars, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Stir in the butter and use your hands to form small clumps with the dry ingredients. Scatter crumble top over the top of the filling.

3. Bake 40-50 minutes until the topping is golden brown and the filling is bubbling. Let cool and serve still warm.

Related recipes:
Peach-Blackberry Cobbler
Peach-Pecan Pie
Whole Wheat Plum Crumble Tart

Peach-Blackberry Cobbler

In this next set of posts, I'll be introducing you (though you've likely already met) to some castoff members of the pie family. They're the distant cousins who show up late to every family function with their shirt untucked and hair a mess, but who once you get them going, make the party with their outrageous stories and ridiculous jokes. Yes, I'm talking about cobblers and crisps, buckles and pandowdies. Portions of these upcoming posts originally appeared in the piece "Cobbled Together: American Fruit Desserts" on NPR's Kitchen Window, which you can find here.

We'll start with the matriarch of this slapdash family--the cobbler. I didn't understand the dessert until I understood the word. A professional "cobbler" is often thought of as a shoemaker and repairman, but a true cobbler is only a mender of shoes. A cordwainer is the more masterful footwear maker.

A cordwainer would not want to be called a cobbler. And a delicately latticed pie would not want to be mistaken for the less artful dessert that's thrown or "cobbled" together with disparate bits of fruit and pastry. Though a cobbler may not be as pretty as a fresh pie or a new shoe, the result is just as functional, enjoyable and more economical, at least in terms of time and effort.

Cobblers appear in American cookbooks at least as far back as the mid-1800s, where they are described as a dessert or "luncheon" consisting of a biscuit or pastry dough and fresh fruit, often peaches. Though some boast a double crust, what characterizes the cobbler is the baked top crust that covers the sweet, bubbling fruit filling.

Cobblers are a wonderful way to experiment with combinations of summer fruits. I like to pair stone fruit and berries, as the tart berries provide the perfect counterbalance to the sweet tree fruit. This cobbler pairs peaches with blackberries, but you could easily substitute other seasonal fruits — nectarines, apricots or plums for the peaches and blueberries or raspberries for the blackberries. After all, you're cobbling it together. If the shoe fits, wear it.

Peach-Blackberry Cobbler

Ingredients

For the biscuit top:

1 ½ c. flour

1 Tblsp. granulated sugar, plus 1 Tblsp. for sprinkling

1 Tblsp. baking powder

½ tsp. salt

¼ c. (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cold and cut in to ½-inch chunks

¾ c. whole milk

For the filling:

3 lbs. peaches (about 8 cups or 6-8 peaches) cut into 1/2-inch slices

1 c. blackberries (about 1 pint)

½ c. granulated sugar

2 Tblsp. light brown sugar, packed

3 Tblsp. cornstarch

1 tsp. salt

1 Tblsp. lemon juice

1 tsp. fresh ginger, grated

Directions

1. For the biscuit top, in a medium bowl, whisk together flour, 1 tablespoon sugar, baking powder and salt. With a knife and fork or pastry cutter, cut in the butter until mixture resembles the consistency of cornmeal and peas. Add milk and stir gently to combine. Form dough into a ball and cover with plastic wrap. Store in the refrigerator for at least 20 minutes while you prepare the filling. 

2. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. In a medium bowl, combine the peaches, berries, sugars, cornstarch, salt, lemon juice and ginger. Pour filling into a deep-dish, 9-inch (2 quart) glass oven-safe bowl, or an 11-by-7-inch baking pan.

3. Remove biscuit dough from the refrigerator and unwrap. Divide dough into 10 to 12 balls of equal size (an ice cream scoop works well for this) and spoon evenly over the filling. Sprinkle biscuit top with remaining tablespoon of sugar.

4. Bake for 55-65 minutes until biscuit top is golden brown and filling is bubbling. Remove from oven and let cool on a wire rack. Serve warm with a scoop of ice cream.

Related recipes:

Quince Biscuit Pie

Surry County Peach Sonker with Dip

Belgian Holiday Treats on NPR

I'm back home again in Indiana. I got in last night to my family jumping up and down (mostly mom), a blazing fire in the fireplace and A Christmas Story (which is set in Northern Indiana, the elementary school looking uncannily similar to my brother's and mine) on the television. Tonight we had a little music party with old family friends; my parents made beef chalupa, I made pimento cheese and pie and homemade peppermint patties (gotta keep it alliterative), and we all chipped in on cheese and veggie plates.

But I haven't seen my grandmother yet. Tomorrow, though, for Christmas Eve, she'll come over with tins full of sugar cookies and pizzelles and speculaas, and probably try to clean the kitchen until we make her sit down on the couch and tell me stories about the Christmases of her childhood. A few weeks ago on NPR's Kitchen Window, I shared some stories of my hers and my own, of our Sinterklaas celebrations, a transplanted tradition from her Belgian and French heritage.

In the piece, you'll find recipes for the Belgian windmill cookies--speculaas (or speculoos)--that were ever-present in my grandmother's cookie jar, oliebollen-- a Dutch/Belgian apple doughnut, lukken--a Belgian waffle cookie typically enjoyed on New Year's, and Speculoos pie--made from speculoos cookie butter and featured here previously. Though Sinterklaas is a few weeks gone by, these treats would make excellent additions to your own music parties, fireside chats, or other holiday traditions, new or old. You can find the whole story and the recipes here. Many thanks to Sebastiaan Zijp, Victoria Lau of Ice Cream Jubilee, my Belgian relatives, editor Bonny Wolf, and my wonderful grandmother Georgette Harding for their generous help with the story.

The Pies of Late Summer on NPR

A few months ago I called my ever-inspiring and resourceful thesis advisor and mentor Marcie Ferris for a catch-up and some career advice. In loading me up with contacts, ideas, and encouragement, she said she'd put me in touch with her good friend in DC, Bonny Wolf, a food writer editor of NPR's Kitchen Window, and as I would find, role model and kindred spirit.

We met for lunch, where we shared our backgrounds, foodways interests, and projects, and I was delighted when she asked me to contribute a story to Kitchen Window. I decided to write it on the seasonal pies of the late summer season. The piece came out last Wednesday, with some really great feedback from readers! (It was the third most e-mailed piece of the day before the naked Prince Harry story came out).  If you're a follower of the blog, the recipes and photos for Nothing-in-the-House pie crust, a fig-pistachio tarte tatin, plum & orange flower custard galette, and peach-pecan pie may be familiar to you. If not, now there are two places to find them!

Thanks very much to Bonny for being a wonderful editor and to Marcie for putting us in touch and for generous support, as always. And do follow Kitchen Window--it's a superb site with excellent recipes and corresponding personal food narratives. I'll probably be contributing another piece in late fall/early winter, though this one may not be about pies--branchin' out!

Also, hello to all the new readers and followers who found Nothing-in-the-House via the NPR piece! Thanks for checking out the pie blog and feel free to get in touch if you have any comments, pie stories, or questions. You can also find us on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and check out our Nothing-in-the-House Baking Co. (featuring a new fall pie CSA for those in DC!).

Fig-Pistachio Tarte Tatin

The summer between my junior and senior years of high school, I lived with a wonderful family in Brittany, France as part of an Indiana University immersion program. During my stay, I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my lovely host mom Anny, learning how to make crêpes and galettes and mousse au chocolat (as well as the metric measuring cup system). Though this was before my pie obsession, one of the things we made together was a tarte tatin--the classic French tart where the fruit, generally apples, is caramelized in sugar and butter on the stove, then baked upside-down and flipped after baking. I remember Anny telling me the story of its invention: apparently the two Tatin sisters, owners of the Hotel Tatin accidentally baked a tart upside-down, then out of desperation served it to the guests who much to the sisters' surprise, gave it rave reviews.

I, much like the guests at the Hotel Tatin that night, love a tarte tatin. It's so simple to make, and shows off the beauty and flavor of the fruit paired with rich caramel. Plus you get to use your cast iron skillet! Though the classic tarte tatin is apple, you can really make a tarte tatin with any fresh fruit. One of my favorite pies to make in general is Ruth Reichl's pear tarte tatin, found in Gourmet. I was pleased to find this recipe for a fig-pistachio tarte tatin in the Pieminister cookbook, just as figs are coming into season down here. Since Pieminister is a British pie shop, all their recipes, like those I made with Anny are in metric. Here's my version of their fig-pistachio tartin, with ounce and cup conversions.


 Fig-Pistachio Tarte Tatin
Adapted from The Pieminister Cookbook

Ingredients
Nothing-in-the-House pie crust, halved
16-20 small figs or 10-14 large figs
3/4 c. sugar
3/4 c. water
3 Tblsp. unsalted butter
4 oz. pistachios nuts, shelled
1-2 Tblsp. honey

Directions
1. Prepare half of the Nothing-in-the-House pie crust as per the directions. Once chilled, roll out into an 11-inch circle, stab it with a fork in several places, and place on a cookie sheet or cutting board between two sheets of parchment paper.  Store in the fridge while you prepare the filling.

2. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Trim the stalks of the figs and halve them lengthwise. Set aside.

3. In a large oven-safe frying pan or cast iron skillet, place water and sugar and heat on low until sugar dissolves. Once sugar has dissolved, raise the heat to medium-high and bring sugar water to a boil and cook without stirring until the syrup is thick and has become golden-caramel in color.

4. Reduce the heat and add the figs--making space so they all fit. Be careful not to burn yourself on the hot caramel. Cook until the figs are tender and release juices but still hold their shape. Remove them with a slotted spoon and set aside in a small bowl.

5. Boil the caramelized juices until they are thick and syrupy, 3-5 minutes more. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the butter until it melts. Scatter the pistachios over the pan and return the figs to it, cut side down, in concentric circles.

6. Put the frying pan back on the heat until the juices bubble. Put the circle of pie crust on top of the filling and tuck it firmly into the edges of the frying pan to form a crust. Transfer the pan to the oven and bake for about 25-30 minutes until the pastry is golden brown. Once the tart has settled for a minute, put on your oven mits and flip the tart onto a plate (prend courage!). Drizzle the tart with honey and a few extra pistachios, if you desire and serve with goat's milk ice cream or Greek yogurt.

The rich flavor of the fig and pistachio, coupled with the sweet, dark caramel makes for a rich and earthy dessert that hints at the almost-impending fall. Though the Pieminister guys suggest pairing it with Greek yogurt, I think it would be just perfect with goat's milk ice cream, if you can find it (or make it!). Tangy frozen yogurt would also do.

Oh, and don't be afraid of the skillet-to-plate tart flip. Just make sure that your plate is slightly bigger than your skillet, protect your hands with oven mitts, and trust yourself--you'll have no trouble. Consider it one of the rites of a baker.

Plum & Orange Flower Custard Galette

I've been out-of-town for a bit, working long hours, living out of a hotel, and unable to bake.  But on the rainy Saturday before I left,  I went on a baking frenzy for an upcoming project. I'll keep you posted when it comes out, but since I'm writing it for someone else and not just for this blog, I had to plan to use fruits that are available both now (so I can bake with them) and into late summer. Here in DC and in more Southern regions at least, plum season lasts into September, I picked up some plums--the tartest variety (though I am now blanking on the name)-- at the Mt. Pleasant Farmers' Market.

I came across this recipe from Dessert First via Pinterest, but didn't really want to do a classic tart, and since I'd already made some standard pies for this upcoming piece, I opted for a galette style where the crust is more roughly cut and folded over the filling. Those edges, where the fruit is encased by crust on two sides, make for the best bites of the whole thing, and the real reason for a galette, in my book. Since the custard is rather sweet, you'll want to chose the tartest plums you can. Though the original recipe calls for 2 tsp. of orange flower water, I would scale it back to 1 tsp. unless you're into very floral flavors. All together this is a rather easy recipe that really showcases the beauty of the plum in both taste and sight, without need for any additional accompaniment (though it did go quite well with an afternoon cup of coffee).

Plum & Orange Flower Custard Galette
Adapted from Dessert First

Ingredients
Nothing-in-the-House pie crust, halved (save extra egg for the crust egg wash)
1/2 c. (4 oz.) crème fraîche
1 egg yolk
2 Tblsp. light brown sugar
1 tsp. orange flower water (the original recipe called for 2 tsp., but I found it a little too floral for my taste. Feel free to adjust according to yours)
2 lbs. (approximately) plums or pluots, pitted and halved
2 Tblsp. Turbinado sugar

Directions
1. Prepare half of the Nothing-in-the-House pie crust as per the directions. Once chilled, roll out into an 11-inch circle and place in a greased and floured 9-inch pie pan. Do not flute crust. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Place pie pan in the fridge while you prepare the filling.

2. In a medium bowl, combine crème fraîche, egg yolk, brown sugar, and orange flower water, using a whisk. Pour into the pie

3. If you haven't done so already, halve and pit plums (leave the skins on). Arrange them in concentric circles over the custard filling. Decoratively fold pie crust over the plums. Brush an egg wash over the crust and sprinkle it and the plums with Turbinado sugar.

4. Bake approximately 40 minutes until crust is golden brown, custard has set and plums are juicy. Let cool. Enjoy warm or at room temperature.

We enjoyed our slices at my friend Lars' poultry operation, Green Gate Farm out in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. More about our trip out there via Virginia wine country coming soon, probably in the form of a Green Gate Farm chicken pot pie post...

Blueberry Icebox Pie at NPR Music

Last week was #pieweek at NPR. Amid all the lovely stories on Morning Edition and The Salt on how to make the perfect crust, desperation pies (aka nothing-in-the-house pies, hence the name of this blog), and how pie history is like The Game of Thrones, Nothing-in-the-House got a little tiny slice of the action when my friend Lars made my blueberry icebox pie for the NPR Music office where he works.

His rendition featured a half-pretzel, half-graham cracker crust (!), and a few peach slices and strawberries thrown into the filling. He posted pics on the NPR Music Tumblr and soundtracked it with the Black Mill Tapes Vol. 1&2 by Pye Corner Audio. Very appropriate. Thanks Lars for bringing #pieweek to Nothing-in-the-House, where every week is pie week.