I have a little problem. I'm addicted to cookbooks, food writing, recipe collecting, and cooking. I have a lot of recipes waiting for me to try them, and ideas from articles, tv, and restaurants often lead to new dishes. I started losing track of what I've done. So now I'm taking photos and writing about what I've prepared—unless it's terrible in which case I forget it ever happened.
It's no surprise that after I read a cookbook, I want to run to the kitchen and start cooking. But, something different happened when I read The Mozza Cookbook a few months ago. Yes, there were some recipes that lured me toward the stove, but the book also really made me want to visit Mozza in Los Angeles. I'll need to plan this visit with a group because I imagine I'll want to taste just about everything from the mozzarella bar, the antipasti, several pasta dishes, pizzas, salads, contorni, and probably every single dessert. I love cooking Italian food, but the thought of sitting down to the kind of feast I'd enjoy at Mozza is dreamy. I couldn't even decide which pizza I'd try first. There's one topped with squash blossoms, tomato, and burrata, another with funghi misti, fontina, taleggio, and thyme, and the bianca that's spread with whipped cream as a thick sauce and topped with fried sage leaves and cheese. I want to try making the fresh pasta dough from this book since it contains even more egg yolks than my current go-to recipe, and I want to try shaping orecchiette and garganelli. But, of course, the dolci chapter is what I cooked from first. This book is by Nancy Silverton, which means the desserts are all going to be fantastic. I simplified the strawberry and fig jam crostate by skipping the little meyer lemon panna cottas that were to sit on top of each and the saba that should have been drizzled over the panna cottas. Instead, I served these mini crostate with whipped cream with creme fraiche.
You should start by making the jam because that can actually be made up to a week in advance. You combine stemmed and halved dried figs and dried strawberries in a saucepan with sugar, lemon zest and a vanilla bean and the seed scrapings. Water is added to cover, it's brought to a boil, and then it's left to simmer for 30 minutes. After the mixture cools, the lemon zest and vanilla bean are discarded, and the rest is pureed in a food processor. The jam is then refrigerated. Next, the dough is made for the crust. As the recipe is written in the book, it's suggested to be made in a stand mixer. I cut the quantity in half, and mixed the dough by hand since it was a small amount. So, flour, confectioners' sugar, butter, baking soda, baking powder, and salt were worked together until the mixture formed a coarse meal. Two egg yolks and some vanilla extract were added along with some toasted sesame seeds and mixed until the dough was smooth. The dough was wrapped in plastic and refrigerated for an hour before proceeding. The dough was then rolled out to a thickness of about one quarter inch, and six five-inch circles were cut from it. The dough circles were placed on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Then, the edge of each circle was rolled in just once to form a tiny edge. The dough scraps were to have been rolled by hand into thin ropes, but the dough kept breaking when I tried that. Instead, I kneaded the scraps together, rolled it out with a rolling pin, and cut thin strips to use for the lattice tops. The dough rounds were spread with the strawberry fig jam and topped with lattice dough strips in a diamond pattern. The baking sheet with the crostate was chilled before being baked for about 25 minutes.
What I loved about these crostate was that they're kind of like a cookie and kind of like a tartlet. They're sturdy enough to pick up and eat with your hands and pretty enough to be served on a plate with whipped cream. There's more I want to attempt from the dessert chapter, but next, I'm ready to try my hand at some pasta shapes I've never made before.
I was flipping tv channels a couple of weeks ago, and I caught the very end of a segment in which Giada was making a rustic crostata with dried apricots, walnuts, and cubes of taleggio. It sounded like such an interesting mix, and it sounded so autumnal, I was sure I could make it seem like fall around here by baking it. By the time I was ready to get baking, we had received some apples and pears from our CSA, so I changed the plan just slightly by using those fresh fruits instead of dried apricots. Now, about that cheese, yes, it is usually a savory cheese. Taleggio is a soft, washed rind cheese that’s relatively mild-flavored, and I was curious about how it would work in a sweet dessert. As it melted into the fruit and nuts, it added richness and interest, and if you weren’t told it was there, you might not realize there was cheese in the filling at all. The crostata was perfect served warm from the oven, and I preferred the leftovers re-heated rather than served cold from the refrigerator.
There wasn’t just cheese in the filling, there was also mascarpone in the crust. The dough was made in a food processor by combining flour, salt, sugar, and butter. It was pulsed until the butter was coarsely mixed into the flour, and mascarpone and lemon juice were added. The machine was pulsed a few more times, and then it was left running briefly while ice water was added. The dough was wrapped and refrigerated for 30 minutes before being rolled out on parchment paper cut to the size of a baking sheet. That was a great tip by the way. By rolling the dough on parchment paper, it was very easy to lift the paper and move it with the dough to a baking sheet in one fell swoop. Then, the dough was topped with a mixed of chopped pears, apples, walnuts, half of the cubed taleggio, a little flour since I was using fresh fruit, lemon zest, cinnamon, sea salt, and honey. The edges of the dough were rolled up and over, and the remaining cubed cheese was scattered on top. The dough edges received an egg wash, and the crostata baked for about 40 minutes.
I will say this is not a dessert for ice cream or whipped cream on the side. It requires no embellishment, but it was delicious with a glass of wine. Nuts, honey, fruit, and cheese were enveloped in a golden, flaky crust, and the warm, sweet flavors were accented by the mildly tangy cheese. It’s still about 95 degrees, so I didn’t make fall happen, but the flavors made it seem like fall should be coming soon.
When I saw the mixed berry crostata on LAtimes.com the other day, I started getting ideas. I had just bought some blackberries and peaches at the farmers’ market, and those two things are in season at the same time for good reason. I couldn’t wait to put them together in a simple, rustic kind of tart. The crostata dough from the LA Times is adapted from one by Nancy Silverton of Mozza. It’s a fairly straightforward pastry, but it includes a tablespoon of vanilla extract. I was sold. I’ve added nuts or lemon zest to dough before, but I had never thought of adding vanilla to pastry. With fresh, ripe, juicy peaches and just picked blackberries, a nice crust to contain them is all you really need.
I did go to the trouble of peeling the peaches this time although I often leave skins intact. It’s a simple procedure of bringing a pot of water to a boil, placing the peaches in the boiling water for about 45 seconds, and then transferring the peaches to ice water. Then, the skins slip right off when pulled with a paring knife. The peeled and sliced peaches and washed and dried blackberries were mixed with a little sugar and some cornstarch, and the filling was ready. The crostata dough was made in a food processor with all-purpose flour, cake flour, sugar, and salt, and chopped, cold butter was pulsed into that mixture. It was actually pulsed to a finer state than I usually mix a pastry dough. It was suggested to process until it resembled moist cornmeal. Ice water and vanilla extract were added, and then the dough was wrapped in plastic and chilled for a bit. For rolling out the dough, it was recommended that it be left kind of thick which is a good idea when juicy, fresh fruit is involved. The edges were rolled in over the fruit, and I brushed on an egg wash and sprinkled coarse sugar on the dough. The crostata baked for about 40 to 45 minutes until the fruit juices were bubbly and the crust was golden.
Sure, some ice cream or whipped cream wouldn’t be out of place here at all, but I was so excited about my first use of blackberries and peaches this season that I enjoyed the crostata with no added embellishment. This wasn’t a flaky, layered kind of pastry crust, but it was golden and crisp on top and tender in the center. With the flavor of vanilla throughout, it was a fine vehicle for the mixed fruit and thickened juices. If you have some ripe berries or other seasonal fruit on hand, consider using it in a crostata with this pastry dough, or try adding vanilla to your usual dough recipe for lovely added flavor.
First, I saw this plum and port crostata on the very last page of the August issue of Living magazine, and then I spotted Italian prune plums in the grocery store. Little, egg-shaped, Italian prune plums seem to pack a full-sized plum’s amount of flavor into a smaller parcel. For this crostata, they were mixed with a reduced ruby port syrup, and that sounded like a such a good idea, I knew I’d like it just by reading about it. There are two slightly unusual things about this recipe. One is that one half of a seeded and minced Thai chile is an optional ingredient. That was intriguing to me, so I included it, but the flavor was lost in the port syrup. The plums and syrup were so lovely together I don’t think I’d bother with it next time I make this. The other interesting thing is that a pie dish is suggested for baking the crostata rather than letting it be more free-form on a baking sheet. I went ahead and used a dish in case the plums and syrup needed to be supported to prevent a runny mess, and that was probably the point. The syrup does set up by the end of the baking time, but there’s a fair amount of liquid as it starts to bake.
So, the dough was rolled and placed in a baking dish and left to chill while the syrup was made. Ruby port and brown sugar were heated in a saucepan and left to reduce to about a third of the original amount. Once cool, that reduced syrup was stirred into a bowl with the halved and pitted plums, more brown sugar, salt, cornstarch, and cinnamon. That mixture was placed in the pie shell, and the dough edges were turned inward and then brushed with cream and sprinkled with turbinado sugar. The crostata baked for two hours total which seemed like a very long time, but it worked out fine.
The once juicy filling was bubbly and thick when it emerged from the oven, and the house was filled with the incredible smell of baking plums. I was sure this was going to be delicious, and it did not disappoint. The port prevented the syrup from being too sweet, and it mixed with the flavor of the plums perfectly. Italian prune plums won’t be around for long, in fact, I didn’t see any at the grocery store yesterday. Next time they appear though, I’ll be ready to greet them with this recipe in hand.
a few months ago. Yes, there were some recipes that lured me toward the stove, but the book also really made me want to visit Mozza in Los Angeles. I'll need to plan this visit with a group because I imagine I'll want to taste just about everything from the mozzarella bar, the antipasti, several pasta dishes, pizzas, salads, contorni, and probably every single dessert. I love cooking Italian food, but the thought of sitting down to the kind of feast I'd enjoy at Mozza is dreamy. I couldn't even decide which pizza I'd try first. There's one topped with squash blossoms, tomato, and burrata, another with funghi misti, fontina, taleggio, and thyme, and the bianca that's spread with whipped cream as a thick sauce and topped with fried sage leaves and cheese. I want to try making the fresh pasta dough from this book since it contains even more egg yolks than my current go-to recipe, and I want to try shaping orecchiette and garganelli. But, of course, the dolci chapter is what I cooked from first. This book is by Nancy Silverton, which means the desserts are all going to be fantastic. I simplified the strawberry and fig jam crostate by skipping the little meyer lemon panna cottas that were to sit on top of each and the saba that should have been drizzled over the panna cottas. Instead, I served these mini crostate with whipped cream with creme fraiche.
The once juicy filling was bubbly and thick when it emerged from the oven, and the house was filled with the incredible smell of baking plums. I was sure this was going to be delicious, and it did not disappoint. The port prevented the syrup from being too sweet, and it mixed with the flavor of the plums perfectly. Italian prune plums won’t be around for long, in fact, I didn’t see any at the grocery store yesterday. Next time they appear though, I’ll be ready to greet them with this recipe in hand.