In a few days I’ll be hopping on another plane to a place that promises lots of good food, relaxation, sunshine and wine. It’s a trip we’ve been planning for a while, but what I wasn’t planning on was real life enveloping the weeks before and after this excursion. In this case real life means work, and work means travel, and that means I’ll be up in the air and away from home for many weeks. When I return it will no longer be summer but early fall and I can’t help but feel slightly Rip Van Winkelish about the whole damn thing.

I’ve managed to cram quite a bit of summer in the past few weeks. Dinners outdoors with best friends, long walks in the muggy streets of NYC with my blogging family, even one last hurrah at our house just the other night dedicated to the bounty of figs. Summer is my favorite season and I just don’t like to see it ending, footstomp footstomp footstomp!

(But trust me, I’ll think I’ll be ok drinking wine in Nice with this man and indulging in rioja-induced tapas crawls of marathon proportions in Spain with the hubs)

As a symbolic gesture I picked up stone fruit at the farmers’ market the other day, knowing that it could very likely be the last peach or plum I would buy and cook with at home for some time. Of course I’m looking forward to what’s around the corner but saying goodbye to stone fruit always leaves me a bit melancholy. What better way to throw it a little party than by making a cobbler.  I am a Certified Cobbler Freak and it almost doesn’t matter what kind either. I don’t think anyone can go wrong with warm fruit, topping and the required scoop of ice cream. You just can’t.

I have my standard recipes for cobbler but we felt like doing something a bit different. A quick search online turned up Aida Mollenkamp’s recipe which sounded good. Little did I know it would actually turn out GREAT.

Do you know Aida? Do you watch her show on Cooking Channel? She brings a smile to my face everytime I think of her, and she’s even funnier and sillier in person. Not that I’m calling her silly, mind you. It’s just being around her makes me feel good. I do love that woman somethin’ fierce.

I’m glad that my last homemade cobbler of the summer went out with a bang. I suspect I’ll be making this cobbler for years, too. In my version I tweaked it just a bit, punctuating the wonderfully mellow peaches with tart dried cherries from my trip to Michigan. It was a match made in heaven. Speaking of heaven, those fluffy clouds of sour cream biscuits on top? Yea, they made this dish. It’s all about those biscuits.

Peach and Tart Cherry Cobbler with Sour Cream Biscuits adapted from a recipe by Aida Mollenkamp

Biscuits:
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons packed light brown sugar
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, frozen
¼ cup sour cream
2 tablespoons heavy cream

Filling
¼ cup all-purpose flour
½ cup packed light brown sugar
¼ cup granulated sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 vanilla bean, split and scraped, seeds reserved
1 ½ pounds fresh peaches, pitted and cut into sixths
1 cup of dried tart cherries (you can find them here)

Topping
2 teaspoons sour cream
1 tablespoon granulated sugar

Preheat oven to 375˚ F and arrange a rack in the middle.

For the Biscuits: Combine the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a mixing bowl and whisk to blend thoroughly.

With a large box grater, grate the frozen butter into the flour mixture using the large holes and then toss to coat. Smear in the sour cream and heavy cream and knead until the dough comes together with your hands. Divide into six pieces and flatten into disks; cover and reserve in the fridge.

For the fruit filling: In a large bowl, mix together flour, brown sugar, granulated sugar, salt and vanilla seeds. Add peaches and dried cherries and mix until the fruit is evenly coated.

Put the fruit mixture into a 2-quart baking dish and top with the biscuit dough evenly across the top.

To Assemble: Brush the tops of the biscuits with sour cream and sprinkle with sugar. Bake until the filling is bubbling, the peaches are tender when pierces with a knife and the biscuits are golden brown and cooked through, 30 to 35 minutes. Let cool before serving. Serve with a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Hi folks! I’m not sure I announced it here but I’m so pleased to say that I’m a regular contributor to Cooking Channel’s Devour The Blog.  I’ve had the best time creating recipes that focus on real flavor, great ingredients with a built-in element of fun and flare (and this is because I always have “party” on the brain, ya know).  This week I created a really simple Ice Cream Terrine with Sauteéd Peaches and I want you to go over there and check it out. For me, pretty please?

And a quick photo bonus for all us food photography geeks:

I took the photo on the left with a point and shoot camera. The right image was captured by my 5D. Never ever let it be said that you cannot take a good food photo because you don’t have an expensive camera. Just don’t. Your talent is greater than the camera you are using and you can make beautiful images with anything. Remember this!

Last week I was invited by the Cherry Marketing Institute to join them and a few others at the Cherry Festival in Traverse City, Michigan. I haven’t visited in over 10 years and have always heard how beautiful Michigan is in the summer but the real reason I wanted to go was because I’ve never once had a Tart Cherry. That’s right, I said it.  Sure, I know Bings and Raniers and all our other delicious sweet cherry varietals but a true sour Michigan Cherry had always escaped me. And after spending a few days with cherry experts, researchers, growers and enthusiasts I know why: they’re just too fragile and don’t ship well. At least not in their fresh state. But more about that later.

Without a doubt these are the cherries I will forever dream of. I’m not knocking my West Coast fruit but these tart cherries have a complexity, depth and certain zing that I’ve never tasted. Picking Montmorency and Balaton cherries from the tree knocked my socks off, and if you can imagine tasting spicy notes with the softest, most tender flesh then you’re close to understanding just how good they are. The colors vary from deep crimson to yellow to a bright atomic red that appears to glow in the dark, enabling you to spot the tiny fruit on the tree from quite a distance. They’re not sour like citrus but mildly tart and perfect for pie making. And more on that later, too.

After we arrived we headed to the Boat House Restaurant, nestled on the peninsula overlooking the bay. Dinner was late in the evening (according to my old man standards!) but you’d never know it as the beautiful bright sun sets so much later up north. In fact, these photos were taken at 8:40 at night! It was a wonderful meal that included Michigan cherries in every course—naturally–and it ended with Cherries Jubilee over ice cream. I always hear people talk about Northern Michigan being so beautiful but until you’re sitting smack dab in the middle of it in July it’s just hard to comprehend. This was a beautiful place with bucolic views and groves of deep lush green trees. Farmhouses dot the roads and rest across docks that go on forever into the lake. I’ll tell you this: let me win the lottery and I could easily spend my summers here. I’m not kidding. But a town is only as wonderful as its people. And the folks of Traverse City made me feel so at home. Gracious, polite and engaging, I almost forgot what it was like to have strangers make you feel so welcome and treat you like family. Add their jovial spirit with my chatty ways and you can see why I didn’t want to leave.

Our guide for the trip was Phil Korson, President of the Cherry Marketing Institute, the national cherry organization that helps promote all things tart cherries. It is an organization comprised of growers and processors across the US. Phil was a wonderful resource, answering our questions about cherries and explaining how the factors of sun, wind, heat and cold winters all determine what kind of crop the cherry trees will yield. He took us to meet Don and Ann Gregory, farmers who have been growing tart cherries for many years. We toured the cherry orchards, stopping for photo moments that included beautiful scenic views and quick sneaks of fresh hanging cherries right off the tree.

Don Gregory

Now you’ll have to excuse me for my lack of harvesting know-how but apparently shaking a cherry tree isn’t actually a euphemism for something else! Who knew? After a quick lesson we all took turns shaking the tree and harvesting the fruit. It was a remarkably old-fashioned way of removing cherries from a tree. You simply shake. Of course there are machines that do this but you realize how gentle one has to be when working with cherries. These little babies are remarkably fragile!

Cherries land on a conveyor belt after shaking and splash into very cold water. in fact, they stay in fresh cold water at every step. Nevermind the guy sitting down, I heard he got fired shortly after this photo was taken.

We also visited the Northwest Michigan Horticultural Research Station, a multidisciplinary horticultural facility that focuses on fruit production and specializes in tart and sweet cherry research. You name it and these folks do it: horticulture, botany, plant pathology, entomology, agricultural engineering and economics, the list goes on. We met with Dr. Nikki Rothwell who told us all about what happens in Cherrylandia (I made up a name for this cute facility because it rests on top of a hill overlooking acres and acres of fruit trees and I want to live there so naturally I had to give it name).  If you’re looking for cutting edge research regarding tart cherries then look no further than Nikki and this facility. She was so sweet and gave us more cherry information than my brain could absorb. However, I did retain the fact that she travels to Eastern Europe to study trees which I thought was remarkably sexy and then the conversation veered into Ukrainian and Polish desserts made with cherries and I just about lost it.

Dr. Nikki Rothwell of the Northwest Michigan Horticultural Research Station and an area dedicated to the study of insects that just happen to love cherries. Sharpen your pencils, insects, there WILL be a test.

After our agricultural lesson we headed back to the main building where there was a festival. Local cherry vendors and events for kids were happening inside while outside I tried my best at a cherry pit spitting competition. I must tell you I didn’t do too bad but no where near as close as my new friend Chef Nathan who — get this — spit a cherry pit 42.7 feet across the parking lot. Seriously!

The sweetest gals sampling cherry juice from inside a Giant Cherry and "Cherry Underwood" as drawn by Georgia, age 9. I normally detest anthropomorphism in general but this is like the cutest thing ever. Work those heels, girl!

One of our visits included Cherry Republic in Glen Arbor. This gorgeously-manicured cherry compound houses a cafe, a tasting room, a shop and outdoor seating where we indulged in all things cherry. I’m not quite sure how I feel about cherry wine though and I’ll leave it at that. But the food and treats were delightful. It was a beautiful space and we had a great lunch and a chat with Cherry Republic’s owner Bob Sutherland. I actually didn’t want to leave.

A few images from Cherry Republic. I could easily obsess over that Cherry Cream Soda.

Ok, so back to Cherry Pie. I’ve gone my whole life declining the offers of cherry pie. It just was never my thing, you know? Canned gumminess nestled in a mediocre crust has never been my favorite but being in Michigan certainly changed all that. It was a pie epiphany, a moment that will forever change my life. Real tart cherries, the perfect balance of tart and sweet, and I owe it all to this man, Bob Sutherland.

Bob Sutherland, owner of Cherry Republic

Bob said it took years to perfect his Cherry Pie. There’s not only the flavor to contend with but also the texture and mouthfeel which is important in a pie. And this right here folks, this is the real deal. This is the pie I will not be eating in California, no matter how hard I try. Michigan cherries do not travel well as their flesh is too delicate and the pits move too much during shipping, causing them to bust through the flesh itself. I’ve heard Washington state grows some tart cherries and if that’s the case I’ll fly up for pie. Or fly back to Michigan next summer because folks, it’s that good. I now understand the charm and appeal of tart cherry pie and it’s something I will never forget. In the meantime I’ll have to satisfy myself with dried cherries, juice and candies but folks, it’s just not the same. Crying, I am.

The Real Deal: this is what all cherry pies want to be when they grow up.

Thank you to the Cherry Marketing Institute and Phil Korson, Weber Shandwick and the ever-so-amazing Caitlin Solway, Bob Sutherland, Don and Ann Gregory (I miss those cookies and cherry tea!) as well as all my fellow cherry travelers. A very special thanks to the folks of Traverse City, Michigan for being one of these sweetest places on the planet.  You all have a place to stay in Los Angeles if you visit. Not all at the same time, I mean. That’d be crazy.

And it’s not all about flavor! And all kidding aside, cherries are packed with some amazing health properties. Read about them at Choose Cherries.

Last night Evita was on television. It reminded me of our past few visits to Argentina which made me hop on the computer to find a particular image of a street in Buenos Aires. Then this morning I woke up to find that my alfajores are Martha’s Cookie Of The Day.  It’s like all this Argentine love is surrounding me and that makes me very happy. Except Evita was a British creation with an Italian-American actress and my cookies are made by a Mexican-American with cookies heavily influenced by a little old lady from Illinois. Oh god I have a headache now.

Check out the cookies here. Thanks, Martha!

I’ve toured enough strawberry fields and interviewed enough growers in my lifetime to realize this: sometimes strawberries blow your mind and sometimes strawberries leave you with that “meh” feeling. And the difference isn’t something you spot visually – sometimes even the most anemic-looking berries can pack a flavor punch while large beautiful red ones can leave you wanting more.

While it’s true that strawberries can grow year round here in California it doesn’t always mean they taste great. For the record I’m not a snob and will buy berries all year long if needed but it doesn’t always make me happy. But you know what makes me happy? When things are in season, when berries taste like berries and not flavored lipstick, and just a simple preparation is enough to seal the deal.

Strawberry Shortcake is one of my favorite desserts. It’s perfect really. A small cake or biscuit, strawberries, some syrup and whipped cream. What is not to love? But like most desserts the quality of the ingredients is paramount. No amount of perfect strawberries can save a hockey puck and why go through the trouble of creating a perfect biscuit if you only top it with substandard berries? It’s just not worth it.

My friend Elise wrote about this recipe a few years ago and we only recently tried it. One dessert became two. Two became three. Three became four and over this past weekend I was appalled that my diet consisted of a few pounds of strawberries from the farmers’ market and these biscuits with slightly-sweetened whipped cream. I couldn’t help myself, really. Perfect biscuits, slightly sweetened with a scone-like density, did me in. Or was it the strawberries, perfectly sweet with the right about of tart zing? Wait, it could have been the whipped cream, something I’m a sucker for on just about anything. Whatever it was, this dessert is now officially my most.favorite.thing.ever because it’s not too sweet and it’s just right.

Strawberry Shortcake

Kindly reprinted from Simply Recipes (and adapted from Fine Cooking) because I begged Elise if I could once I tried it. Make this and you’ll understand why.

For the strawberries and the whipping cream

3 baskets of fresh strawberries. Make sure they are the best you can use!
1/2 cup sugar
Whipping cream
Vanilla

Remove the stems from the strawberries. Slice into thin (1/4″ to 1/8″) slices. Put into a large bowl. Add 1/4 cup to 1/2 cup of sugar (depending on how sweet the strawberries are to begin with) and mix into the strawberries. Set aside at room temperature to macerate. After 20 minutes, gently mash the strawberries with a potato masher.  Go easy, you only want to bring out the juices and not crush the berries.

Whip the cream, adding a drop or two of vanilla and a teaspoon of sugar.

To serve, break one biscuit into big pieces and ladle strawberries on top. Add a dollop of whipped cream and a drizzle of the strawberry liquid if desired.

For the biscuits

3 cups all purpose flour
3 Tbsp granulated sugar
1 1/2 Tbsp baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
12 Tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Sift the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt into a large bowl. Toss with a fork to combine. Cut the butter into the flour mixture with a pastry cutter or a fork until the largest pieces of butter are the size of peas. (Or pulse several times in a food processor.) Combine the cream and vanilla in a liquid measure. Make a well in the center of the flour and and pour the cream mixture into the well. Mix with a fork until the dough is evenly moistened and just combined; it should look shaggy and still feel a little dry. Gently knead by hand five or six times to create a loose ball. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and pat it into an 8-inch square, 3/4 to 1 inch thick. Transfer the dough to a baking sheet lined with parchment or silpat, cover with plastic and chill for 20 minutes in the refrigerator. Heat the oven to 425ºF. Remove the dough from refrigerator. Cut the dough into 9 even squares and spread them about 2 inches apart from each other on the baking sheet. Bake until the biscuits are medium golden brown, 18 to 20 minutes.

Makes 9 biscuits. (Adapted from Fine Cooking Magazine, July 2003)

If you heard a giant thud last week or a heavy sigh sift through your window then chances are it was me. I apologize for the interruption. You see, I just managed to wrap up two cookbook projects within the same week, a feat that has surprised even the most doubting me. I suppose this is what happens when you work with amazing people. They will forever have your back.

One book involved sandwiches, and boy, do I mean sandwiches. The other was a lovely vegan cookbook from a woman that is sometimes known as one half of the skinny bitch empire. Although I know the B word is used solely as empowerment it’s not a word I’d use to describe her. Sweet, funny, gentle, hot, yea, those words, anything but bitch. And I really can’t wait for this book to hit the stands as the recipes were ridiculously delicious. More about that in a few months.

On the last day of the shoot my dear friend Cindie (who is also an amazing food stylist) brought candy to the shoot. I have the world’s smallest sweet tooth (you wouldn’t know this from things that I enjoy making) and I don’t usually freak out over sweets. However, Cindie told me that she whipped up this recipe for Blood Orange Caramels because she needed something to do with the oranges. And when my pal Cindie says she needs something to do it’s best if you create a clear path and step aside. An exquisite crafter, a notorious organizer, a brilliant designer and gifted knitter (her dog Peanut proudly wears monogrammed sweaters, thankyouverymuch), Cindie is destined to create. I love that about her. Anyway, these caramels. Oh my god, these caramels. Soft and chewy, the initial stickiness gives way to buttery and tart citrus flavors before ending with tiny salty fireworks once the crystals have had time to dissolve on your tongue. The whole shebang ends with a crunch of the toasted nuts, and before long you realize these caramels have sent you over the edge with very distinct flavors all working together harmoniously.  I saved a few to take home to Adam and it was nothing but torture.

It turns out the other half reacted the same way I did. You have one and then you want another. You keep thinking about that citrus tang combined with those heavy caramelly flavors. I could stand it no longer. I grabbed my phone and texted her (I even used some harsh language, I don’t like the “kill” metaphor but I was exhausted and feeling dramatic, fyi). And being as wonderful as she always is she said yes! Have I stepped over some unwritten blogging etiquette rule by re-blogging about something she just did? I’m sure of it!  But you’ll just have to forgive me because I love these candies, damnit!

Cindie’s Blood Orange Caramels with Toasted Almonds and Sea Salt
Could you use regular oranges? Perhaps. I wouldn’t. Blood oranges are very special and I’m quite fond of them. And they are in season right now. Cindie says if you prefer a tart candy you can cut the brown sugar in half. I happen to think they were just perfect as written.

3 cups blood orange juice, strained
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/3 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup toasted almonds
2 teaspoons sea salt flakes

Line the bottom of an 8-inch square baking dish with parchment paper. Butter parchment paper and set aside.

Place blood orange juice in a 4-quart heavy saucepan and bring to a boil over high heat. Let boil until liquid is reduced to 1/3 cup.

Remove from heat and stir in sugars, butter, and cream. Return to high heat and bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Turn heat to medium and let boil until a candy or deep fat thermometer reads 248 degrees F (or when a half teaspoon placed in a glass of icy cold water turns into a firm, chewy ball), about 17 minutes.

Remove from heat and stir in vanilla.

Scatter almonds on bottom of parchment paper. Pour caramel over almonds. Let sit until cool and firm, about 2 hours. Remove from baking dish and sprinkle salt flakes over top. Cut into 1-inch pieces.

Thanks to Cindie and Denise over at Food Fanatics. You know I’m teaching another workshop with them at my studio in March, right? Make sure to click on over there if you’re interested.

With the holidays in full swing I just wanted to remind you that you have a little bit of time left if you’re entering the Chocolate Adventure Contest from Scharffen Berger! The grand prize includes $10,000 for the winning recipe in both the Sweet and Savory categories and some swell second place prizes. We’ll be judging on creativity, taste, ease of preparation and whether the recipe reflects a spirit of adventure and yes, I’m one of the judges!

You’ll find more information at Chocolate Adventure Contest along with the complete rules of the contest and how to submit your recipe. You have until January 3, 2010. You can read my previous post about the contest here.

I can’t wait to taste all the amazing entries.

Oh Chocotorta, how I love you!

I learned of Chocotortas during our last visit to Buenos Aires from Maricela from Pip In The City. I met her through blogging and we immediately fell in love with her gracious hospitality. We had brunch at Olsen, walked around Buenos Aires, and invited her over to our room at Home Hotel for a small party. She brought a chocotorta, a very simple no-bake layered “cake” consisting of chocolate cookies, dulce de leche and cream cheese. Did you get that folks? Cookies, dulce de leche and cream cheese? Needless to say this cake––a favorite of kids and mothers-who-cannot-bake––disappeared in a matter of minutes. Scratch that. Seconds.

“It’s the recipe moms make when they can’t bake. You cannot mess it up” she told me.

Now that really sounds like my kind of dessert. Excluding my adapted alfajores which I have mastered and a few cakes and cookies, I’m still trying to understand baking. When a cake recipe doesn’t require an oven you better believe I’m gonna try that first. Or at least nudge the hubby to try it.

Ok, so here’s the deal. I didn’t seek out to adultify this Argentine dessert. I’m not one of those people who needs to dress something up and make it cute. Nor did I mean to defile or fancy something that was just fine as it was. Because it’s delicious and fun and quick and easy. But after a few emails with Marcela to double check some chocotorta facts it became clear that some macgyvering would be required on my end. I had most of the ingredients for the chocotorta on hand as we stocked up at the supermercado in Buenos Aires but realized I’d be missing one of the filling ingredients. She recommended adapting the recipe and after a quick consultation with my food-styling better half we decided on adding cream to the mixture; it’d be too thick otherwise.

“I have another idea as well. Let’s add booze,” Adam said. In an effort to include more alcoholic beverages to my diet I agreed. Before long Adam was reaching for Kahlua, hazelnuts and a baking sheet and I knew he’d be adding his own touch to the cake. I moved over. I was not about to stand in his way.

Rather than build the chocotorta in a loaf pan Adam worked his food styling magic by creating little individual stacks of kahlua-soaked cookies layered with the cream cheese and dulce de leche spread. They were topped with an impromptu hazelnut brittle and before long these individual chocotortas were gone. And when I say gone I mean that I ate them all. And I’m not even really a sweetfreak. Or so I think.

Maybe it was the booze?

Chocotorta a la Adam
1 can of dulce de leche
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
1 package (8 oz) cream cheese
chocolate cookies, see note
1/2 cup Kahlua coffee liqueur

For The Brittle
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon water
squeeze of lemon juice
1/2 cup hazelnuts, whole

About the Cookies: We used a brand we brought back from Argentina that are thin, square and not overly sweet. You could use just about any cookie provided it’s the biscuit type and not a big honkin’ sweet one.

Dulce de leche filling:
Beat the cream until soft peaks form. Add cream cheese, dulce de leche and whisk until smooth. You want a very light consistency, quite different from the super thick viscosity of regular dulce de leche.

Hazelnut Brittle:
Grease a cookie sheet. In a skillet cook the sugar, water and lemon juice on high heat until amber in color, remove from the heat and mix in the hazelnuts. Pour the hazelnut mixture onto greased cookie sheets to cool, making sure to spread out the nuts to create individually coated nuts that you can use as garnish. Crumble a few of them to top the chocotorta.

Assembly:
Dunk the cookies in the coffee liqueur, and dunk liberally!  Once soaked pipe the filling in between the cookie layers. You don’t have to do beautiful baby dollops like the photo, you can just use a plastic baggie with the corner cut off to pipe the filling on top. Kind of like a s’more. Once layered repeat until you have a nice little stack. Give them a little time to set as this allows the cookie to become even softer from the Kahlua which makes it a bit easier to eat. Top with crumbled candied hazelnuts.

Because this is a no-bake recipe you don’t need to be exact. Taste along the way, just be careful with the brittle part of the recipe. I have no idea how many this yields because I was too busy eating along the way. And if by chance you oversoak and your cookies become mush (which did not happen to me but I suppose it could), well, tough. It’s still gonna taste good.

Full confession: When I was about 4 or 5 years old I was so utterly terrified of Halloween that I once ran from the dinner table to the bedroom where I locked myself inside it for 20 minutes while Trick or Treaters came to the front door of the house. I’m not sure why I did that exactly as I wasn’t normally a timid or shy child; I think my dramatic exit had more to do with the fact that I enjoyed that sense of fright, darkness and mystery that rolls around every October. I like to be scared when I know nothing bad will actually happen.

This explains my interest in fright nights, scary movies, haunted houses, macabre scenarios, you name it. I think there’s a part of all of us that likes that thrill…why else would we visit haunted houses, watch slasher films, and listen to Paris Hilton songs and videos?

Not that I’ve done the latter. Even that’s too scary for me.

When I mentioned to Adam that I wanted to do my first Halloween blog post about a cocktail I tried he quickly informed me that it would neither be a) exciting b) deep enough or c) have enough pizazz. “What’s so exciting about a cocktail, all by itself?”  he asked. I could see his point as there are tons of others who focus on spirits and do a much better job. Besides, this drink wasn’t anything exciting or thrilling but perfect for the grown-ups at any Halloween party. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll help you out” said Adam.

Wow. Was my drink really that lackluster that it needed help? Apparently so.

He grabbed his car keys, ran to the store, came back but not before making a detour to the front yard where he began tugging at one of the trees. My partner isn’t a man of a thousand words (which must be why we’re a great match) but sometimes stoic and methodical. He was up to something I could tell but I didn’t quite know what.  When he returned to the kitchen he ransacked his baking shelf, took out the candy thermometer, a sheet pan and began his kitchen alchemy.

What happened next was pure magic.

I walked back into the kitchen to find the most beautiful candied apples before me.  Black glossy cinnamon-scented candied glass enveloped small apples, twigs became their handles, and a few shockingly red candied apples only made their black counterparts more ominous. It was halloween on a silpat, a spooky forest that completed my cocktail.

I had no choice but to have him bundle up the apples, head to the studio with me where I knew exactly how I wanted to photograph them. They joined my new favorite black wine goblets from Juliska in an eery still life that still gives me the chills when I look at it. Only this time there’s no need to lock myself in my bedroom.

Red & Black Candy Apples

8-10 medium sized apples
8-10 wooden twigs, twimmed
3 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup light corn syrup
1 cup of water
several drops of cinnamon flavored oil
1/4 teaspoon of red food coloring
1/4 teaspoon of black food coloring
Clean and dry the apples. Try to remove as much of the wax as possible. If you purchase them from your local farmer’s market then chances are they have not been treated with the food grade wax that makes then shine. Remove any stems or leaves and insert a twig into the end of each apple. To facilitate easier twig entry you can carefully sharpen the end of the twig or use a candy stick to create a guide hole. Set apples aside.

Heat and stir sugar, corn syrup and water in a saucepan until sugar has dissolved. Boil until the syrup reaches 300 degrees on a candy thermometer. Don’t go over 310 degrees or your candy burns and then you’ll be sad.

Remove from heat and stir in flavored oil and food coloring.

Dip one apple completely in the syrup and swirl it so that it becomes coated with the melted sugar candy. Hold the apple above the saucepan to drain off excess. Place apple, with the stick facing up, onto a baking sheet that’s greased or lined with a silpat. Repeat the process with the remaining apples. If your syrup thickens or cools too much, simply reheat briefly before proceeding. Let the apples cool completely before serving.

A note about the black apples: Lighter colored apples (Granny Smith, Golden Delicious) work well in making the red appear bright and glassy; darker apples like red delicious help the black candy appear as dark as possible. Muy spooky!

Also, Adam made one batch with red food coloring and after he had a few red apples he reheated the candy mixture and added black food coloring. Adding black to red will make it darker. He repeated the dipping process. Black food coloring can be found online or at specialty baking stores.

Matt’s Winter Cocktail

I only call this winter because it has the flavors of pomegranate, apple and pear. Other than that it’s really just a sweet excuse to get drunk. The pinch of pumpkin pie spice in the drink gives it a holiday flair but it’s subtle. You can use dry ice to make it spooooky if you make a large batch of it but I don’t recommend putting dry ice into an individual glass if you want to keep your lips. Serves 2.

2 oz Pama Pomegranate Liqueur
2 oz Pear Vodka
4 oz Apple Cider or Juice
tiniest teensiest pinch of Pumpin Pie Spice

Add ingredients and crushed ice to a shaker and blend well. Empty drink and ice into a glass and get your drunk on.

I don’t know about you but I’m still coming down from the high of last week’s festivities at BlogHer 09. The event in San Francisco exceeded everyone’s expectations and it was so humbling to be in the presence of so much talent. I spoke on two panels about photography with two of my favorite authors and bloggers, Heidi Swanson and Lara Ferroni.

On the tail end of this amazing experience I wanted to announce some exciting news: I’m joining John Scharffenberger, Chef Elizabeth Falkner, Alice Medrich and Tutti Foodie’s own Lisa Schiffman as judges for The Chocolate Adventure Contest. This contest from Scharffen Berger and Tutti Foodie encourages you to create an inventive recipe for any course––appetizer, entreé, dessert, or even a drink––using Scharrfen Berger chocolate and at least one adventure ingredient.

And what are these ingredients, you ask?

• Fresh mint (any varietal)
• Crystallized ginger
• Pandan leaf
• Banana leaf
• Sumac
• Raw honey
• Cacao nibs
• Fresh or whole dried chili pepper
• Malbec
• Peanut butter
• Black-eyed peas
• Rice flour
• Papaya
• Cumin
• Paprika (any varietal)
• Smoked sea salt

Ok, so now you can see why I’m just a wee bit thrilled to join these amazing folks and taste the one-of-a-kind creations I know you’ll create? The grand prize includes $10,000 for the winning recipe in both the Sweet and Savory categories and some swell second place prizes. We’ll be judging on creativity, taste, ease of preparation and whether the recipe reflects a spirit of adventure.

You’ll find more information at Chocolate Adventure Contest along with the complete rules of the contest and how to submit your recipe. You have until January 3, 2010 so please, get on this!

The official kick off is tomorrow with Chef Elizabeth Falkner in New York at The Institute of Culinary Education. If you were lucky enough to sign up and attend in person or via the webcast you’ll hear all about the event.

Have fun!

P.S. Please excuse my very large round face on this page. Clearly I will spend more time with Photoshop’s Liquefy next time.