My boyfriend came to Canada by way of Germany.
Since we’ve been together, the differences in our passports have meant several important things.
It has meant that the more difficult, anxiety ridden times in our relationship have been caused mostly by things like Immigration laws. Visas. Customs Officers. Paperwork. Things that sometimes bite you in the bum, when you least expect it. Not fun things, not fun things at all.
Also, it has meant that our bank accounts have taken on the blows that come from the costs associated with trans-Atlantic flights being purchased, just to see each other.
It has meant that at family gatherings, his, the tables are covered with an astounding variety of German cakes, and I have learned that each and every one of them goes well with a glass of sekt. And that at family gatherings, mine, he has been introduced to the popular local phenomenon of all-you-can-eat-sushi. And he has proven that all-he-can-eat is really a lot.
It means that he is very appreciative of this vast land our country enjoys, and jumps at every chance to explore our great outdoors. It means that his jaw drops every time we are somewhere you can see the ocean and the mountains at the same time, which is many places in Vancouver, and is wonderful.
It means he is very fun to go camping with.
And, speaking of which, it meant that, until a few weeks ago, he had no idea what a S’more was.
I explained to him that a S’more is a melty combination of graham cracker, marshmallow and chocolate. But I wanted more to say. Because in our little North American raised hearts, a S’more really is something more. As much melted nostalgia as deliciousness.
A few weeks ago my friend had us over for dinner. And she made S’mores for dessert. Using Triscuit crackers. And a microwave. It sounds kinda strange, but it wasn’t. They were delicious, and a very reasonable introduction to the North American campfire delicacy.
When we went camping, we made them with Nutella; also a fine sub-category of the S’more.
Last week, I wanted to use up the remaining graham crackers, and ended up with these ‘Ice Cream S’more Fondue Sandwiches’. From the name, it does sound like four different foods. But it is one. And it is good.
Soft and gently spicy graham crackers hugging creamy, toasted marshmallow ice cream and dipped into warm, melted dark chocolate made rich and creamy with butter, they taste kind of like laughter, if laughter were a flavor.
So technically I still haven’t introduced my boyfriend to the classic S’more. I guess my work is still cut out for me.
For me the real star of this recipe is the ice cream. Making the sandwiches and fondue is fun and pretty straightforward, but it is a little more labor intensive than, say, not making the sandwiches and fondue. The ice cream itself is simple, easy to serve, and really outstanding. It is one of those things where the whole is so much more than the sum of its parts – something sort of magical happens when melted marshmallows are tucked into fatty dairy products. More creamy than I can describe, with a warm, toasty flavor, the taste is simple but very indulgent.
I imagine milkshake nirvana would be easily achieved via toasted marshmallow ice cream, and as somewhat of a milkshake aficionado, I think I might be the right person to test out this theory.
Recipe
I cup milk
I cup whipping cream
2 egg yolks
200g marshmallows
Package of graham crackers*
200g dark chocolate
75g butter
*The ones I used were from Trader Joe’s. They are coated in sugar and very lovely. Best of all, somehow Trader Joe’s manages to convince that everything they sell is completely healthy. Even cookies.
For the Toasted Marshmallow Ice Cream:
Preheat oven to 400
Spread marshmallows on foil, on a baking tray, and put them in the oven until they are gently browned. This should take around 10 minutes, so keep an eye on them!
Meanwhile, in a medium sized saucepan, heat the milk and cream together until the mixture just begins to simmer. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour about ½ cup of the hot milk to the bowl, stirring all the time, to temper the eggs. Pour the egg mixture back into the saucepan.
Once the marshmallows are browned, you should act relatively quickly, as they harden fast. Using a spatula, place all the marshmallows into the saucepan, and stir until the marshmallows are mostly integrated.
Allow the mixture to cool at room temperate (will take about a half hour).
Cover, and put in the freezer. Still every hour or so for about 3 hours, until the ice cream is solid enough to hold its shape.
For the Sandwiches & Fondue:
Spoon desired amount of ice cream onto one cracker, then sandwich another one on top. Put them in the freezer until you’re ready to serve.
In a heavy bottomed saucepan, melt the chocolate with the butter over a low heat, stirring occasionally. Serve with ice cream sandwiches while chocolate is still warm, preferably to people with whom you don’t mind double dipping.
Although a fresh, ripe apricot is one of my favorite things to bite into, I never get too excited about their dried counterpart. On their own, they don’t really do anything for me. Tucked into a scone, dipped in dark chocolate, or hidden in trail mix, I wouldn’t necessarily avoid them, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to introduce them to my taste buds, either.
Unfortunately, apricot season is very brief. Over here, the fruit is only soft, vibrantly flavored, and juicy enough to guarantee messy eating for a brief spell towards the end of summer. Apparently the trees are very sensitive and, according to Wikipedia : ”The fact that apricot season is very short has given rise to the very common Egyptian Arabic expression “filmishmish” (“in apricot [season]“), generally uttered as a riposte to an unlikely prediction, or as a rash promise to fulfill a request.” You know, like, sure, I’ll stop eating these! In apricot season!
When I read this recipe, in this book, I was immediately interested in the possibility of soaking a little life into the wrinkly dried creature as I patiently wait for the real deal to come into season. The idea of infusing them with the delicate flavor or orange blossom and stuffing them with cream had me sold.
This is a Turkish recipe, and is relatively simple to prepare. You poach the apricots in a simple syrup with orange blossom water, let them cool, and then tuck little spoonfuls of Kaymak, a middle eastern clotted cream, into their bellies. My only complaint is that the book has no recipe for Kaymak, and the ones I found online involved simmering buffalo milk for upwards of eight hours. I decided to make a regular clotted cream, and chose a recipe that used whipping cream and sour cream. The cream itself turned out tasty, but if you have a preferred way of clotting your cream, by all means, clot that way. I also have no idea if this substitution in creams made the flavors less authentic.
Either way, this dessert is really a nice way to make a dried fruit shine. Sweet and very fruity, explosively juicy and exotically perfumed, it would make a nice light finish to a meal, or a great snack.
Kaymakli Kayisi – Apricots filled with clotted cream
Adapted from The Middle Easter Kitchen, by Ghillie Basan
(She says it serves 6. What is this? A recipe for ants? Two of us ate these within a few hours.
225g dried apricots, soaked at least 6 hours or overnight in about 2 cups of water
175g sugar
1 tablespoon orange blossom water
clotted cream (recipe follows)
fresh mint leaves, for serving (optional)
Drain the apricots, reserving the soaking water. Put the water into a heavy-bottomed pan with the sugar. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally to dissolve the sugar. Lower the temperature to let the water simmer, and add the apricots and orange blossom water.
Poach the apricots for about twenty minutes, then take them off the heat and let them cool in the water. Drain the apricots, but hang on to the liquid! *
When the apricots are cool, gently open them, tuck in a small spoonful of clotted cream, and fold them back up again. If you like, place them on a plate covered with fresh mint leaves. I find the flavors contrast really nicely. You can also spoon a bit of the poaching liquid onto the apricots for a little extra juicy- and sweet-ness.
to make the clotted cream:
Whip 1/2 cup of whipping cream with 1 tablespoon of sugar and a teaspoon of vanilla extract until it forms very stiff peaks. Mix in about 1/3 cup sour cream. Refrigerate for at least 30 mins before using, to let the flavors mix.
* This stuff is like liquid gold. Sweet, apricot flavored, liquid gold. You can drink it on its own, or add a little soda water and pour it over ice. I mixed mine with a little honey and a pot of black tea, and refrigerated it to make a really refreshing and iced tea, infused with ‘flavors of the orient’.
I was really excited for my friend’s birthday to roll around last week, because I had been planning for weeks (weeks!!) on making this cake.
I was excited because, some two odd years ago, when we lived together in Berlin in an old Nazi-office-cum-apartment with wood floors, a deep red wall and a well loved kitchen, this cake really made an impact on us.
We had an old gas oven which, in order to light, required a courageous and somewhat terrifying reach into its depths with a barbeque lighter and demanded the user’s willingness to accept a few singed arm hairs. It was the sort of appliance that wouldn’t really fly in North America, and mastering it gave us a certain sense of satisfaction. Among the countless edibles glories that came out that… antique, we baked this cake together. We talked about it for months but, I guess due to its relatively long ingredient list, we never made it again. In my memory it was the most moist and intensely chocolaty cake I’d ever tasted. And those are not words I pass around lightly.
So I thought that this cake, laced with the sweet taste of nostalgia, would be perfect one to celebrate her 23rd. Sadly, this time around I found it to taste relatively ordinary. I’ve had cakes that tasted more intensely of chocolate with much less effort. It wasn’t by any means inedible, but I felt as though I was really just consuming it as an excuse to enjoy the frosting, which was incredibly thick and rich, deeply chocolaty with a slight accent of orange and, for me, the best part. And a truly outstanding cake is one in which the frosting is at least the second best part.
I tried to rationalize. This could be because of a number of factors. The circumstances in which we first had this cake, for example, could be one. It was the morning after my birthday, and our Spanish friends showed up at our door with their energetic smiles, rolling accents, and two tubs of Ben&Jerry’s. So the cake was eaten for breakfast, with good friends, ice cream and a hangover. This might have made it taste somehow richer.
Second, I had consumed a fair bit of plain dark chocolate as I baked the cake the second time round. This might have lessened the impact of the cake itself. To be fair, other eaters of the cake did say it tasted quite chocolaty. So, again this is just to be fair, I wouldn’t be opposed to the notion of giving this cake another try.
All this to say that I was happy to come home from her party to a bowl of surplus frosting – the recipe made much more than the cake needed. Turning them into something that resembled a truffle seemed a little classier than eating a bowlful of leftover frosting, so after a few spoonfuls I decided to shape the rest into little balls and roll them in cocoa powder.
Recipe: Tart Chocolate Orange Truffles
This recipe is adapted from the frosting of this cake. While the cake itself is decent, the frosting is delicious and turns into a lovely, flavourful truffle. I decided to swap half the butter for sour cream, and I love the slight tartness it added. I call them truffles, but they are a little softer than the usual truffle.
2 1/2 cups finely chopped dark chocolate or chocolate chips
1/2 cup softened butter
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup powdered sugar
1/4 cup thawed frozen orange juice concentrate
In a small saucepan or in the microwave, melt the chocolate. Mix together the rest of the ingredients in a medium sized bowl. Slowly add the melted chocolate, while mixing. Refrigerate for an hour or so. With your hands, roll about a tablespoon’s worth of the mixture into a ball, then roll it around in cocoa powder.
Try to keep these somewhere cool, they melt really easily.
