• Home
  • About
  • Recipe Index
  • Contact
Menu

Rivka Friedman

Street Address
City, State, Zip
Phone Number

Your Custom Text Here

Rivka Friedman

  • Home
  • About
  • Recipe Index
  • Contact

Baked Apples Stuffed with Figs and Walnuts

December 9, 2013 Rivka
1-DSC_0232
1-DSC_0232

October is for apple picking. I love bringing home big bushel baskets full of crisp, juicy apples, and eating one fresh on the way home. If it's warm enough to wrap a big scarf around my neck and skip the coat, I'm game for raw apples.

But in case you haven't heard, we got our first snow this weekend. It's a wee bit - half an inch, maybe? - but it's enough to unleash DC's full-fledged phobia of functioning in "inclement" weather. It's also enough that I want my apples baked.

By "baked," I mean stuffed with sweet, nutty filling. Dotted with butter. Glazed with reduced cider or white wine. That kind of baked. Are you with me? I bet you are.

There are countless recipes online for stuffed baked apples, but most call for stuffing them with what essentially amounts to crumble topping. I love the way the crumble stuffing bakes into a crispy crust on the apples, but if we're being honest, the part inside the apple generally underwhelms. It ends up tasting like very buttery, slightly undercooked oatmeal, which is tasty, but not really what I want inside my apples.

That's why I developed this recipe, which calls for finely chopped nuts, dried fruit, and still plenty of that signature brown sugar and butter. I baked the apples in a combination of cider and white wine, but you definitely can bake them in just cider, or a combination of cider and water.

Inspired by Mario Batali, I served these apple with a bit of gorgonzola dolce on top. The cheese provided a nice counterpoint to the sweet, buttery apples. If your guests (or you) aren't keen on gorgonzola, you can serve them with a bit of creme fraiche or mascarpone. Or hey, gild the lily: a la mode would be fantastic, too.

~

GIVEAWAY RESULTS: Thanks to everyone who entered last week's giveaway of a Nudo Olive Oil Gift Pack! This morning, I chose a winner using the Random Number Generator and Random.org:

random number generator
random number generator

The lucky winner is Grace. Congratulations! I'll be in touch via email.

Now, onto today's recipe.

Baked Apples Stuffed with Figs and Walnuts Serves 6

6 of your favorite apples 3/4 cup walnuts, finely chopped 3/4 cup chopped figs 1/3 cup brown sugar 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 4 tablespoons butter, softened, divided 1 cup cider 1/2 cup semi-sweet white wine (or substitute more cider or water) 2 oz. gorgonzola dolce or other mild, creamy gorgonzola, optional, for serving

(Other serving options: creme fraiche, mascarpone, or vanilla ice cream)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Use a melon baller to core the apples from the top. Work your way through the center of the apple, removing all the seed pods but leaving a sizeable base intact. You're essentially looking to turn each apple into a cup. Set apples in an oven-safe casserole. Apples should stand up on their own; if not, choose a pan that just barely fits the apples, so they stay upright.

In a small mixing bowl, combine walnuts, figs, brown sugar, cinnamon, and 2 tablespoons of the butter. Use a fork to mash and combine the mixture as you would the crumb topping of a fruit crisp. The mixture should be somewhat damp and clumpy.

Use a small spoon to fill the cavity of each apple with filling. You should have enough filling to fill each apple to the top, but fill each apple a bit at a time, to make sure filling is distributed evenly. Dot filled apples with the remaining 2 tablespoons butter.

Pour cider and wine/water into the bottom of the casserole.

Cover casserole with lid or aluminum foil. Bake covered for 20 minutes, then remove cover, baste apples with pan liquid, and continue baking 30-40 minutes longer, until apples are soft, the apples' skins are wrinkled and golden, and the juices have reduced considerably.

To serve, top each apple with a small piece of gorgonzola and serve hot. Alternatively, serve apples with creme fraiche, mascarpone, or vanilla ice cream.

In dessert, healthy
Comment

Bourbon-Chocolate Pecan Pie

November 27, 2013 Rivka
1-DSC_0995
1-DSC_0995

The menu is pretty much set. In the fridge are mason jars full of cranberry sauce, cranberry-applesauce, pear sauce, and dulce de batata, a sort of jam made from white Latin sweet potatoes, which we first had at Del Campo and which I replicated with shocking success. In the crisper are bags of diced carrots, onions, and celery, and little bundles of fresh herbs ready to add to round 2 of turkey stock. I've got sweet potato rolls rising on the counter, a turkey and a half dry-brining on the bottom shelf of the fridge, and an assortment of vases, flowers, ribbon, bowls, tea lights, and other random stuff intended to magically self-assemble into a pretty tablescape. (Doubtful.) 

But even if absolutely nothing goes according to plan, we know there will be doughnuts. And more doughnuts. So everything will be okay. And just in case, there also will be delicious, delicious pie.

I tested two pies this past weekend and brought both to a house full of the ultimate taste testers: the hosts of our Thursday night pie/Hanukkah party, and their four children (among the most discerning eaters I know. One's favorite food is pickled asparagus.)

And this, friends, is why we test recipes: all eight of us agreed that while the pies were tasty, they weren't memorable. They weren't worthy of a spot on the Thanksgiving pie table.

One -- an apple custard pie with a rye crust -- was a surprise letdown. I was counting on it being awesome, and it just wasn't. On any other day, it'd be a pie worth making, but with so much else competing for attention on Tday, the pie kind of needs to be amazing.

1-DSC_0999
1-DSC_0999

The other, fortunately, needed only a few tweaks to go from meh to memorable. And, in a slight wrist-slapping moment, the tweak was actually an un-tweak: I had added some fresh cranberries to Melissa Clark's otherwise-excellent chocolate pecan pie, figuring that the cranberries would offset the pie's likely sweetness. The cranberry flavor was nice, but the texture really disrupted an otherwise fine pie. Out they went. And between you and me, the pie improved significantly on day two. This one, I'm making on Wednesday.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. I hope the holiday brings an abundance of delicious food, cozy warmth, good laughs, and plenty of leftover turkey for sandwiches. Also: latkes. Have a wonderful weekend!

Bourbon Chocolate Pecan PieAdapted from the New York Times

For the crust: 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (150 grams), plus more for dusting 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt 8 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled and cubed 4 to 6 tablespoons ice water, as needed 1/2 tablespoon cider vinegar, mixed in with ice water

For the filling: 1 1/2 cups pecan halves (170 grams) 6 tablespoons unsalted butter 2 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped (56 grams) 3/4 cup dark corn syrup 4 large eggs 1/2 cup packed light brown sugar (100 grams) 1 tablespoon unsweetened cocoa powder (5 grams) 2 tablespoons bourbon 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt

Make the crust: In a food processor, pulse together the flour and salt. Add butter and pulse until the mixture forms chickpea-size pieces. Add ice water, 1 tablespoon at a time, and pulse until the dough just comes together. It should be moist but not wet. On a lightly floured surface, gather the dough into a ball. Flatten into a disk with the heel of your hand. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 1 hour and up to 2 days.

On a lightly floured surface, after removing plastic wrap, roll out dough to a 12-inch circle. Transfer crust to a 9-inch pie plate. Fold over any excess dough, then crimp edges. Prick crust all over with a fork. Chill crust for 30 minutes.

While the dough chills, heat the oven to 375 degrees. Line chilled crust with aluminum foil and fill with pie weights or dried beans. Bake for 25 minutes. Remove foil and bake until very pale golden, 5 to 10 minutes longer.

Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees. Spread pecans on a rimmed baking sheet. Toast nuts, shaking pan occasionally, until fragrant, 8 to 10 minutes. Cool.

Make the filling: In a small saucepan over low heat, melt butter and chopped chocolate, stirring until smooth; cool. In a large bowl, whisk together cooled chocolate-butter mixture, corn syrup, eggs, sugar, cocoa powder, bourbon and salt. Pour the mixture into the prepared crust. Arrange pecans over filling. Transfer to a large rimmed baking sheet. Bake until the filling is just set when the pan is jiggled, 30 to 40 minutes. Remove pie from the oven and cool completely on a wire rack before serving.

In dessert, thanksgiving
2 Comments

Nutmeg Donuts with Cranberry Curd Filling

November 11, 2013 Rivka
1-DSC_0658
1-DSC_0658

From the looks of my kitchen this past week, you'd think I'd given up normal eating and opted instead for some wacko doughnut diet. I've fried three batches in the last 7 days and no, I'm not done yet. The weather report says we're getting snow (!) on Tuesday, and I think we'll need some cinnamon-sugar doughnut holes to go with the season's first cocoa.

But before the snow and the cocoa and the doughnut holes, I had a wacky idea to make cranberries into pudding. It was back when tomatoes were still delicious and cranberries in the supermarket downright confused me. But there they were, announcing fall before I was quite ready. Still: summer couldn't last forever. Instinctively, I grabbed a bag. Okay, two.

Scheming about what to make with them on the way home, it occurred to me how similar cranberries are to rhubarb, which became curd back in 2010. Bright red and oh-so-sour, both beg for sweetness and richness to soften the tart bite of the fruit. In both cases, sugar + egg yolks work wonders.

Not to gild the lily, but pump the sweet-tart bright-red curd into a nutmeg-scented yeast doughnut, and you've got yourself a treat.

1-DSC_0620
1-DSC_0620

Needless to say, I will be serving these at Thanksgivukkah - dessert #1, to be followed shortly thereafter by the feast of 1,000 pies. I think I mentioned this earlier, but half the doughnuts will be filled with this, the other half with pumpkin pudding likely inspired by Deb. And maybe, just maybe, if making 25 menu items for 14 amazing guests makes me as crazy-in-a-good-way as I think it might, I just might put both in each doughnut. I told you, things may get crazy around here.

Having initially tested the recipe without nutmeg, I can reassure you that they're still good. But, if you've got whole nutmeg, don't skip it. And if you don't this may be your reason to buy it. It's cheap, keeps well, and makes everything more delicious.

1-DSC_0621
1-DSC_0621

Thanksgiving ideas, elsewhere: We're officially in the Tday countdown. In case you're hosting (or jonesing to make a friends' Thanksgiving meal as an excuse to make all this good food, I recommend dry-brined turkey, roasted or fried; brussels sprouts of insane deliciousness; bourbon-pecan bars that deserve a place on your table, Tday or not; and plenty of other recipe ideas here, here, and -- if you're thinking Thanksgivukkah -- here.  

More doughnuts! It's doughnut week here on NDP. I've got a guest-blogger for the next ones; you don't want to miss'em. Stay tuned.

Nutmeg Doughnuts with Cranberry Curd FillingDough adapted from Saveur, curd adapted from here

Makes 2 dozen

For the doughnuts: 2 packages active dry yeast (1/2 oz. total) 1 1/2 cups milk or unflavored soy milk, heated to 115° 1 1/2 cups sugar 4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened, plus more for greasing (for non-dairy doughnuts, substitute corn oil or Earth Balance) 1 tablespoon vanilla extract 2 teaspoons freshly grated nutmeg 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1 egg plus 3 egg yolks 4 3/4 cups (1 lb. 5 oz.) all-purpose flour, sifted, plus more for dusting Canola oil, for frying 1 1/2 cups cranberry curd, for filling (see below) Powdered sugar, for dusting

For the cranberry curd: 3/4 pounds (12 oz.) fresh or frozen cranberries 4 tablespoons water 1/2 cup sugar, divided 4 egg yolks 3 tablespoons butter, cut into chunks (for non-dairy, use Earth Balance or coconut oil)

Make the doughnut dough: Combine yeast and milk in a bowl; let sit until foamy, about 10 minutes. Beat 1/2 cup sugar and butter in a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment until fluffy. Add yeast mixture, vanilla, nutmeg, salt, egg, and yolks; beat until combined. With the motor running, slowly add flour; beat until dough is smooth. Transfer to a lightly greased bowl and cover loosely with plastic wrap; set in a warm place until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours.

Make the cranberry curd: In a small saucepan, heat cranberries, 1/4 sugar, and water on medium. Cook until cranberries have turned completely soft and there are no whole pieces left, adding water by the tablespoon if cranberries stick to the bottom of the pan. Push the mixture through a strainer.

Add a couple inches of water to the pot of a double boiler and set over medium heat. Put egg yolks, butter/oil, and remaining 1/4 cup of sugar in the bowl of the double boiler and whisk to combine. When sugar has dissolved completely, remove bowl from heat and add the cranberry puree by the spoonful, to temper the eggs. When all rhubarb has been added, set bowl over pot; the water should be simmering. Continue stirring the cranberry mixture; after about 5 minutes, the mixture will be warm and slightly thickened. Remove from heat, and again press through a strainer — this will give your curd that smooth, pudding-like texture.

Finish the doughnuts: On a lightly floured surface, roll dough into a 14" round about 1/2-inch thick. Using a floured 3-inch ring cutter, cut dough into 20 rounds; gather and reuse scraps. Transfer rounds to lightly greased parchment paper—lined baking sheets, at least 3 inches apart. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and set in a warm place until doubled in size, about 30 minutes.

Heat 2 inches of oil in a 6-quart pot until a deep-fry thermometer reads 350°. I found the doughnuts slipped off the parchment paper quite easily using a delicate hand and some patience, but if you're nervous about messing up their shapes, you can do as Saveur recommends and cut the the parchment paper into squares around each doughnut, so each doughnut is on its own little piece of parchment, making the transfer easier. Working in batches, place donuts in oil, paper side up, using tongs to quickly peel off and discard paper. Cook until puffed and golden, about 75 seconds per side. Using a slotted spoon, transfer to a baking sheet with a wire rack; let cool completely.

Fit a pastry bag with a plain 1/4-inch tip and fill with curd. Working with one doughnut at a time, insert tip about 1/2-inch deep into the side of doughnut, pipe 2 tablespoons of curd in, and set aside.

Dust filled doughnuts with powdered sugar before serving.

Doughnuts will keep for the better part of a day, but not longer. No excuse: eat up!

In breakfast and brunch, dessert, thanksgiving, fried
9 Comments

Grape-Cornmeal Snacking Cake

October 17, 2013 Rivka
1-DSC_0266
1-DSC_0266

Snacking cakes and I go way, way back. Our long history revolves mostly around languid summer Saturday afternoons, when lunch has long passed but dinner seems far away. Company is still over, we're all sitting around a table, there are crumbs everywhere and half-empty cups of ice coffee with mostly-melted ice dribbling down the sides. But trust, there is snacking cake.

1-DSC_0271
1-DSC_0271

Summer has faded into fall, but that hasn't stopped snacking cake from sticking around. I happened upon this specimen, plump with concord grapes, when looking for my usual focaccia recipe. Fortunately, with so many different kinds of grapes at the market, my eyes were bigger than my stomach, and I bought them all. That left me with enough for two focaccias plus this cake.

1-DSC_0078
1-DSC_0078

Right upfront, let me tell you that this cake bears a striking resemblance to cornbread. (If that's not your jam, perhaps you'll love this other snacking cake, my personal favorite.) It isn't cornbread, per se: it's a bit lighter and, well, cakier than your typical cornbread. But the genius touch here is the honey, which gets drizzled in but not fully mixed. The result is a thin thread of sweetness throughout the cake. The grapes on top also are key: they add some very important moisture, and when you bake the thing, they get plump and just shy of jammy.

1-DSC_0225
1-DSC_0225

Another honest moment: this cake is best when it's just out of the oven. If you're planning to bake it in advance, you'll be far more enamored if you tuck it into the oven for one last spin before serving. You want those grapes warm, that crust crisp and steaming. Now that it's fall, languid Saturday afternoons have plenty of room for a warm, toasty snacking cake.

1-DSC_0258
1-DSC_0258

Concord Grape Snacking CakeAdapted from Bon Appetit

I made only minor adjustments to this recipe, mostly to indulge my preference for butter in pretty much anything. The recipe originally called for 4 T oil and 2 T butter, but I made it with all butter. If you're more of an oil cake girl, go right ahead. Either way, it's a no-mixer recipe. Aren't those the best?

I will also confess to using a mix of Thomcord and Champagne grapes, those lovely hybrids with good flavor but no seeds. Concords have superior flavor, but as I sit there with a paring knife picking out each of the FOUR seeds from each grape, I get rather stabby and swear never to use them again. This time, I put my money where my mouth was, and I was much happier to eat the cake as a result.

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons flour 1/2 cup cornmeal 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt 2 large eggs 1/2 cup sugar 1 teaspoon lemon zest 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract 6 tablespoons melted butter (or use 1/4 vegetable oil and 2 tablespoons butter) 6 tablespoons buttermilk (or substitute milk plus juice from half a lemon) 2 tablespoons honey 1/2 a pound of grapes - Thomcord, Concord, Champagne, whatever you've got. But definitely red or black. De-seeded, if necessary.

Preheat oven to 350°. Butter an 8-inch square baking dish.

Whisk flour, cornmeal, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl; set aside. In a separate large bowl, whisk together eggs and sugar until smooth and satiny. Add lemon zest and vanilla and whisk to combine. Add butter and/or oil; whisk to blend. Whisk in flour mixture, then buttermilk. The drizzle in honey, and use a knife to swirl it into the cake without fully incorporating it.

Pour batter into prepared dish, and scatter half the grapes over cake batter.

Bake until cake turns light golden brown around the edges and starts to set, 15 minutes. Remove from oven and scatter remaining grapes over cake. Continue to bake until top is golden brown and cake springs back when pressed, 20-25 minutes longer. Transfer to a wire rack. Let cool slightly in pan. Serve warm.

In breakfast and brunch, cake, dessert, easy
Comment
← Newer Posts Older Posts →
No results found

Subscribe by email:

  • books (1)
  • crisps and crumbles (1)
  • frozen (1)
  • toys (2)
  • gifts (3)
  • egg whites (5)
  • fried (5)
  • how to use--- (6)
  • drinks (10)
  • menus (11)
  • travel (11)
  • fish (12)
  • kosher for passover (14)
  • thanksgiving (14)
  • vegan (20)
  • snacks (21)
  • techniques (21)
  • soup (26)
  • bread (28)
  • pies and tarts (28)
  • cake (33)
  • events (34)
  • condiments (36)
  • various and sundry (39)
  • uncategorized (42)
  • cookies and bars (46)
  • weekday lunch (47)
  • appetizers (48)
  • salad (51)
  • gluten-free (56)
  • comfort food (61)
  • breakfast and brunch (77)
  • sides (81)
  • dessert (90)
  • main dishes (100)
  • healthy (139)
  • easy (155)
  • vegetarian (180)

| LATEST |

Featured
Blue Chair Fruit's Black Raspberry Jam
Blue Chair Fruit's Black Raspberry Jam

One Saturday night a few weeks ago, friends tipped us off that Butler's Orchard had snap peas and blueberries and black raspberries all ready to go at once. Needless to say, we canceled all other plans for the next day, and by 8:30 am Sunday morning, we were off to the races. 

Blueberries are awesome to pick with an 18-month old. They free from the bush easily, they're plentiful at toddler height, and us oldies can reach the higher ones and save our backs while the kid gets the low-hanging fruit. We came home with 5 pounds of blueberries, 5 pounds of black raspberries, and stains just about everywhere.

Read more →
Thai Grapefruit Salad
Thai Grapefruit Salad

If you've seen me in the past few weeks and expressed even vague interest in Asian food and/or cooking, I've probably bored you to tears gushing on about the best cookbook of the year (IMHO), 101 Easy Asian Recipes. The title is both accurate and a bit tongue-in-cheek, since it makes the book sound like something fusion-y and inauthentic and terrible, when in fact, it inauthentic, and unabashedly so, and wonderful. The back of the book has big speech bubbles boasting "100% inauthentic" and "very good" and "easy, really." It's fab.

The book comes from Peter Meehan, who has worked with David Chang (Momofuku) and Danny Bowein (Mission Chinese) for years, co-authored the Momofuku cookbook, and now edits Lucky Peach magazine. He's clearly a meticulous guy who gets how Asian food works -- the balance of flavors, the precision with cooking times, etc. But this book takes a step away from the "this has 500 ingredients/steps, but it's worth it"-style of recipes, opting instead for formulas that follow two important ground rules: no deep-frying, and no recipes within recipes. The rationale: Asian food isn't just for Sunday projects, it's for weeknight dinner with kids. Good bless you, Peter Meehan. 

Read more →
Mango Sticky Rice
Mango Sticky Rice

've had this Thai glutinous rice sitting in the bottom of my cupboard for months, but never quite worked up the guts to make it into something until, a few  weeks ago, the waiter at our little Laotian spot in the neighborhood told me that sticky rice may be the easiest thing on their menu to make at home. That doesn't necessarily say much, considering the menu includes items like crispy rice salad (involving rice that's cooked, mixed with other stuff, formed into balls, deep-fried, broken into pieces, and tossed with a gazillion other ingredients, which I know only because I've made it and whoa, pain in the butt doesn't even start). Still: "easier" was motivation enough not to let that rice sit untouched.

Read more →
Winter 2016: Odds and Ends
Winter 2016: Odds and Ends

Not a full post today, but a bunch of odds and ends that I've been meaning to share.

Marmalading: That's what kept me out of trouble and away from insanity during our two-ish weeks of hibernation under an impenetrable and, apparently, unplowable 30 inches of snow. (Attention DC officials: occasionally, it snows here. Surprise! Buy another plow or two.) Fortunately, my fridge was chock-full of citrus you've never heard us, because Cathy went to Texas for a marathon series of cooking classes, and her trip coincided with Central Market's wonderful Citrus Festival, and she is a goddess and a wonderful friend and a crazy lover of citrus like yours truly. (I paid her in Barcelonian anchovies, yes). For most of last weekend, our home smelled like a heavenly mix of chartreuse hot cocoa (thank you Pam!) and boiling citrus peel. Not shabby. Not shabby at all.

Read more →
Povitica: The Best Babka Ever
Povitica: The Best Babka Ever

It's snowing! It's snowing! THE APOCALYPSE IS COMING! I hope you bought flour and sugar. I hope you happen to have walnuts in the house. Yes? Wonderful.

Meet my latest, love, the Povitica. It comes from my other latest love, the Great British Baking Show. If I may, for just a moment, evangelize on its (the show's) behalf, it is the sweetest, coziest little food show on television. Contestants do their preparation in advance, and come to weekly competition with dog-eared copies of recipes they’ve developed. If someone runs behind, others pitch in to help out. Even the hosts of the show sometimes provide assistance. There’s a lot of smiling and hugging, absolutely no product placement, and so much Englishness, you won’t know what to do with yourself. It's Victorian sponge for miles.

Don't let the coziness fool you: each episode brings a "bake" more ambitious than the last.  There are hot-water pastries and raised yeasted loaves, tiered pies and sculptured cakes. There are desserts you’ve never heard of, from Germany and Poland and France and Croatia, which if you saw in a cookbook might give you pause: lots of ingredients, pages of instruction, no sense of what the thing is supposed to look like if baked correctly. But when a bunch of (okay, very accomplished) home bakers give these recipes a go, under the pressure of a short timeline a televised competition, you watch them, and you think, yeah, maybe I could do that. One minute I’m watching the show, then next, I’m all I must have this in my oven now. That is why last week I up and baked a dobos torte, just because. And then this week, I got baking shpilkes  again, so I went totally mad and baked my beloved povitica.

Read more →
Persimmon Walnut Bread
Persimmon Walnut Bread

This is a happy-accident story, but it doesn't start that way. This past fall, I was determined to make hachiya persimmons into smooth, spiced butter. But each time I tried, I created something so ruined, so mouth-dryingly inedible, that I had to dump the entire thing. I did this too many times. cough three.

Fuyu persimmons are sweet and crunchy. They can be eaten as you would an apple. Hachiya persimmons are not as friendly. If you buy them hard, you must wait to eat them, or you will take a bite and your entire mouth will turn dry and chalky, like what tannins in wine do to your mouth but unpleasant, a thousand times unpleasant. To avoid this, you must tend to your hachiyas: put them in a paper bag, set them somewhere warm but not too warm, encourage them to ripen but protect them dutifully against spoilage. Hachiyas can be eaten when they are soft all over, and plump like a balloon. At that point, their astringency goes away, leaving behind soft, floral-flavored flesh that's wonderful as is, or in dozens of baked goods.

The catch, though, is that if even one bit of the persimmon hasn't reached that perfect stage of ripeness, its astringency will infiltrate and ruin whatever you're making with it. This is especially true in the case of butter, where the persimmons are cooked together and then pureed. And so it was for me, time after time, I found persimmons, coddled them to ripeness, cooked them, blended them, tasted them, cursed, and tossed the mixture into the trash. So wasteful, so frustrating. There must be a better way.

Read more →
Sprout Chaat Salad + New Site!
Sprout Chaat Salad + New Site!

I want desperately to tell you all about this chaat-style salad I've been making almost daily, but it's probably rude to offer guests something to eat without first saying hi, so: 

Hi! I've got a new home.

Not Derby Pie is still there - go see for yourself - but it was time for a fresh start. I never really had the technical wherewithal to manage my own website. I faked it pretty well for 8 (!) years, but with every automatic Wordpress update, my site would break a little bit more – the header, gone! the comments, gone! etc – and late last year, I finally decided I needed a full reboot.  So, here we are: From now on, I'll be sharing new recipes over here, at rivkafriedman.net. 

I used Squarespace to build this site, and I hope you love its clean interface as much as I do. The search function is simpler, the design is 100% mobile-friendly, and I've managed to haul all of my old posts over to this new home, with only minor glitches in spacing and captions and whatnot. I'm 90% of the way there. The biggest issue is that ingredient lists in recipes transfer as a block, not a list. You may see some other minor formatting issues for a little while longer. If a recipe looks particularly garbled, you can always find it back on NDP.

New year, new start. I'm so excited to finally share this with you.

Now then, onto business. 2016's first sprouts are ready for a salad.

Read more →
Maple Walnut Squares
Maple Walnut Squares

I know it's almost Christmas, but I'm about one month behind (on everything) and right now, I need to commit a tiny act of Thanksgiving blasphemy. I tell you this: the best dessert I ate on Thanksgiving was not pie.

By 7 pm the evening of the holiday, our house was full of neighbors who had decided to stay local. Our table was overflowing with pies, many of which our friends had brought: a glistening, lattice-topped sour cherry pie; several bourbon/brandy-filled pumpkin pies; a gorgeous rendition of Deb's chocolate tart with gingersnap crust (a slice of which I carefully set aside for myself, which my unsuspecting and always-cleaning lady accidentally threw away, *sob*) and many more. I tried too many; I loved them all. But I think my favorite bite of all was a slice of these maple walnut squares.

Read more →
How to Give Thanks
How to Give Thanks
Read more →
Croissants (really, I made croissants) + other croissant-ish things
Croissants (really, I made croissants) + other croissant-ish things
Read more →

| hEALTHY |

Featured
Sprout Chaat Salad + New Site!
Sprout Chaat Salad + New Site!

I want desperately to tell you all about this chaat-style salad I've been making almost daily, but it's probably rude to offer guests something to eat without first saying hi, so: 

Hi! I've got a new home.

Not Derby Pie is still there - go see for yourself - but it was time for a fresh start. I never really had the technical wherewithal to manage my own website. I faked it pretty well for 8 (!) years, but with every automatic Wordpress update, my site would break a little bit more – the header, gone! the comments, gone! etc – and late last year, I finally decided I needed a full reboot.  So, here we are: From now on, I'll be sharing new recipes over here, at rivkafriedman.net. 

I used Squarespace to build this site, and I hope you love its clean interface as much as I do. The search function is simpler, the design is 100% mobile-friendly, and I've managed to haul all of my old posts over to this new home, with only minor glitches in spacing and captions and whatnot. I'm 90% of the way there. The biggest issue is that ingredient lists in recipes transfer as a block, not a list. You may see some other minor formatting issues for a little while longer. If a recipe looks particularly garbled, you can always find it back on NDP.

New year, new start. I'm so excited to finally share this with you.

Now then, onto business. 2016's first sprouts are ready for a salad.

Read more →
Fennel frond pesto + what to do with those pesky stalks
Fennel frond pesto + what to do with those pesky stalks
Read more →
Asparagus Toasts with Pistachios and Mint
Asparagus Toasts with Pistachios and Mint
Read more →
Eggplant-Walnut Pâté + Passover Ideas
Eggplant-Walnut Pâté + Passover Ideas
Read more →
1-DSC_0861-600x401.jpg
Best Mushroom Pizza (or any white pie, really)
Read more →
Lentils and Rice with Tamarind Sauce and Dukkah
Lentils and Rice with Tamarind Sauce and Dukkah
Read more →
Big Kale Salad with Pomegranate and Feta
Big Kale Salad with Pomegranate and Feta
Read more →
Punchy Crunchy Ginger Salad
Punchy Crunchy Ginger Salad
Read more →

| BreakfAST |

Featured
Povitica: The Best Babka Ever
Povitica: The Best Babka Ever

It's snowing! It's snowing! THE APOCALYPSE IS COMING! I hope you bought flour and sugar. I hope you happen to have walnuts in the house. Yes? Wonderful.

Meet my latest, love, the Povitica. It comes from my other latest love, the Great British Baking Show. If I may, for just a moment, evangelize on its (the show's) behalf, it is the sweetest, coziest little food show on television. Contestants do their preparation in advance, and come to weekly competition with dog-eared copies of recipes they’ve developed. If someone runs behind, others pitch in to help out. Even the hosts of the show sometimes provide assistance. There’s a lot of smiling and hugging, absolutely no product placement, and so much Englishness, you won’t know what to do with yourself. It's Victorian sponge for miles.

Don't let the coziness fool you: each episode brings a "bake" more ambitious than the last.  There are hot-water pastries and raised yeasted loaves, tiered pies and sculptured cakes. There are desserts you’ve never heard of, from Germany and Poland and France and Croatia, which if you saw in a cookbook might give you pause: lots of ingredients, pages of instruction, no sense of what the thing is supposed to look like if baked correctly. But when a bunch of (okay, very accomplished) home bakers give these recipes a go, under the pressure of a short timeline a televised competition, you watch them, and you think, yeah, maybe I could do that. One minute I’m watching the show, then next, I’m all I must have this in my oven now. That is why last week I up and baked a dobos torte, just because. And then this week, I got baking shpilkes  again, so I went totally mad and baked my beloved povitica.

Read more →
Croissants (really, I made croissants) + other croissant-ish things
Croissants (really, I made croissants) + other croissant-ish things
Read more →
Mushroom and Kale Breakfast Strata
Mushroom and Kale Breakfast Strata
Read more →
Barley Porridge with Orange and Black Sesame
Barley Porridge with Orange and Black Sesame
Read more →
Ramps 'n' Eggs Biscuit Sandwiches
Ramps 'n' Eggs Biscuit Sandwiches
Read more →
Asparagus Toasts with Pistachios and Mint
Asparagus Toasts with Pistachios and Mint
Read more →
Apple-Cheddar Scones with Sage
Apple-Cheddar Scones with Sage
Read more →
Menemen - Turkish Eggs with Tomatoes and Peppers
Menemen - Turkish Eggs with Tomatoes and Peppers
Read more →
You must select a collection to display.

© 2016 Rivka Friedman. All Rights Reserved.