stacey . smoore . the staceyfish . 
Life in a Northern Town: the exploits of an ecstatic Alaskan
Lens: the adventures of a girl and her camera
I hardly ever make apologies for my cooking for any reason whatsoever. I take great pride in what comes out of my kitchen and get great joy from sharing that food with others.
With these delectable little cookies, however, apologies might be in order. Don't get me wrong - they're excellent, it's just that they're so rich that unless your ovaries have taken you hostage and are demanding nothing less than a chocolate IV now, indulging in more than, say, two, might be out of the realm of possibility. Even if you find yourself in the midst of a hostage crisis, a chaser of milk (preferably straight from the carton!) is still necessary.
Richness aside, these suckers are delicious. So sinfully delicious, it's said, that if everyone in the world had these, conflict and war would no longer be issues. I'm inclined to agree - these cookies can cure what ails you. Well, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually at any rate, if not physically (unless butter and chocolate are agents of healing now).
As for the world peace bit, I'm doing my part. I've sent these cookies throughout the world, including war zones, as gifts that are meant to bring comfort and happiness to those who needed it, whether it was because they were missing their families or because they had just had their hearts broken. They've also done good domestically, be it by bringing a bit of cheer to shift workers on a dreary Monday or by raising money for charities in need.
I should confess that I'm totally altruistic with these cookies. Not every batch is for a good cause (see previous statement about ovaries taking a certain person hostage) - because, really, sometimes you just gotta keep some of the riches that flow from your kitchen to yourself. Even if you're impeding world peace by doing so, I don't think anyone will blame you!
Espresso. Brandy. Ladyfingers. Chocolate. Marscapone.
When you look at that list you may find yourself wondering, "What possibly could go wrong?"
And if you answered an enthusiastic "Nothing!" you would be so, so wrong. I sure as hell hope you didn't bet the farm on that one.
Tiramisu, at its best, is light yet rich, warm-tasting with brandy notes, with espresso to offset the sweetness, and because everything is better with chocolate, a liberal dusting of some Scharffen Berger. However, when executed improperly, it's flat tasting, bitter, and soggy. Trust me, you don't want soggy tiramisu.
It's one of those dishes where everything has to go right. Because of that, I won't order it in restaurants anymore, not even the one that Cory took me to for dessert on my birthday, because they screw it up and frankly, mine is a hell of a lot better (sorry Cory, I know you meant well!).
Luckily, if you have a good recipe, like the one I'm about to share with you, you can't go wrong. Too many recipes for tiramisu are too vague and include verbiage like "stir a couple of times" or "heat until lukewarm" and that sort of imprecision, while maybe appearing a little less intimidating to the novice cook, is a recipe for disaster. For soggy, flaccid, bitter disaster. And you know I would never do that to you.
I may have a bit of an unhealthy obsession with butternut squash. As soon as it hits the grocery store, I'm burrowing through recipes, writing down the weight of the squashes I'll need in my upcoming cooking marathons, and re-inventing the stuff as much as I can.
Sadly, though, there are very few recipes for the stuff that don't involve roasting. Not that I'm complaining - roasting is one of my favorite methods because it's totally fuss-free and extremely adaptable - but sometimes I just want some texture with my squash!
Then the folks at Cafe Cacao came to the rescue: their first executive chef whipped up this recipe, which is just beyond flippin' perfect. The nibs add not only just a bit of crunch, they also toss in a subtle chocolate flavor. Not a huge fan of unsweetened chocolate? Never fear, the squash provides that sweetness! This recipe is genius. Pure genius.
Can you see why I wanted to have the wedding rehearsal dinner there?
Skeptical about chocolate and squash? I'd like to clarify and say that Scharffen Berger nibs and Hersey's have about as much in common as apples and baseball bats. Hersey's (and other mass-marketed chocolate) are all about the sweet, sweet, sweet. There is not much chocolate to speak of. On the other hand, the nibs have a very warm, complex, nutty, fruity, vanilla-y, and above all, pure chocolate-y flavor. So throw caution to the wind and give this recipe a shot while the squash is still in season.
Click here for the recipe for "Roasted squash with cacao nib vinaigrette" »
Telltale scenario #538: How to know you married the perfect man
Your hubby has come up for a visit and, alas, you have to go to a boring lunch for work. You'd pleaded to get out of it, and even your "but I only get to see my husband every three months" argument had fallen on deaf ears. So you go, you eat some awful food, and before long you're back home and you find that not only has he mown the lawn, he has made you a batch of your favorite chocolate chunk cookies.
True story!
Sorry ladies, he's off the market.
Now, these cookies that my wonderful husband made for me hold a special place in my heart. It's not for any sentimental reason, it's just because they're so chock-full of really good chocolate. Perhaps I haven't made it totally clear in this blog thus far, but I'm a total chocolate freak. Not for crappy mass-produced Hersey's, but for the good stuff - as is evidenced by my chocolate stash (yes, all of those striped packages are Scharffen Berger). I'm by no means exclusive in my smittenness - I give my love not to just one but to a select few.
So, unsurprisingly, cookies like this that use good chocolate and a lot of it are right up my alley. I made these cookies last week and gave them away and have been tormented by their memory since - why oh why was I feeling so altruistic???
I wasn't so tortured the first time I made them and they were part of the care package that I sent to Jeremy when he was studying for the Bar. He rated these as an A- and said "as plain old boring chocolate chip cookies go, they're superb."
A-, in my mind, is about right. I've already made them better than that batch - I originally used Lindt Swiss bittersweet and Ghirardelli milk but in my most recent batch, Scharffen Berger 70% bittersweet and 41% extra rich milk was the chocolate I chose. They're still not absolutely perfect and they could use a small improvement. To give these cookies just a tad more texture and complex chocolate flavor (but not more sweetness), I think they would benefit from some cacao nibs being stirred in.
It could be that those little nibs will be the key to finally getting that A.
Click here for the recipe for "Scharffen Berger chocolate chunk cookies" »