Robert Biancavilla and his wife Sherri of Duck Island Bread Company |
Sunday, December 07, 2014
Raising Dough for Duck Island Bread Company
Sunday, February 02, 2014
A Dalliance with a Hot Pink French Macaron
Monday, January 10, 2011
A Bribe from a Pie Visionary
Sadly, I am no George Clooney.
Sometimes, I need a little push to get me to a meeting in another city. Here's a recent phone conversation with my friend and colleague Miss Tera, who is based in Chicago.
Miss Tera: (Brightly) We’d love to have you at our meeting next Friday!
TW: (Peevishly) Chicago in January? It’s freezing. Is that the best you can do? If you were suggesting Miami, we might have some room for negotiating.
Miss Tera: (Undeterred) How about I bake you a pie? Would that help?
TW: (Brief Silence, Then Rapid Improvement in Attitude) Pie? What kind of pie?
Miss Tera: (Sweetly) What kind do you want?
TW: (Checking Flight Availability) You take requests? Deal!
Yes. I can be bribed. Especially with pastry. But, there is a difference between a bribe, and an embarrassment of riches. I arrive in the Windy City and learn that Miss Tera has baked me not one, but THREE pies. And, she baked all of them on a weeknight. For that reason alone, she qualifies as the Wonder Woman of pie.
Miss Tera is also a bit of a soothsayer when it comes to pie. You may have read in the New York Times that pie is the next big thing. However, Miss Tera predicted the big pie trend right here, more than two years ago.
She serves up the pie at a lunchtime sampling (yes, I ate pie as the main course for lunch) and we indulge in the sweet luxury of Joyce Carol's Black and Blue Pie, Sister Chestermae Hayes's Apple Butter Pie and Aunt Betty Jean's Lemon Pie, all from the book “Sweety Pies” by Patty Pinner, “An Uncommon Collection of Womanish Observations with Pie.” We’re joined by Liz, The Crazy Cook who gave Miss Tera the cookbook as a holiday gift. The cookbook has already been broken in, as there are berry stains splattered across the pages.
The “black and blue” pie is a luscious concoction of blackberries and blueberries frozen from the summer farmer’s markets, the tart lemon pie has a crackling good sugar top, almost like crème brulee, and the apple butter pie is a velvety, old-fashioned classic.
©2011 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved
Sunday, October 10, 2010
George’s Iowa City Coffee Cake
The gorgeous beans are a testament to George’s nurturing skills.
Indeed, George is a fixture at Restoration Farm, and his specialty – Iowa City Coffee Cake – is a fixture at farm pot luck dinners. You’d better not wait long to visit the dessert table on Pot Luck Night. Those who dawdle will miss their chance to get a thick slice of this moist cake, layered with fragrant cinnamon. It's a classic, and so is George.
As for the name, Iowa City Coffee Cake – I can tell you that Iowa City is located in the state of Iowa, and there are nearly 70 thousand residents. So, what’s the connection to the coffee cake? I don’t want to give away any trade secrets. You’ll have to pay a visit to the farm and ask George. You’re likely to find him in the field taking good care of the pole beans. He will greet you with a friendly smile, and a great story.
Ingredients:
2 sticks margarine
2 cups sugar
2 eggs
2 cups self-rising flour
1 8-ounce container sour cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 teaspoons cinnamon and 2 tablespoons sugar mixed together in a small cup
Confectioner’s sugar for decoration
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour Bundt pan. Melt margarine and pour in large bowl. With electric mixer, mix in sugar. Mix in 2 eggs. Mix in flour. Mix in 1 cup of sour cream. Mix in teaspoon of vanilla.
Pour half of batter into bundt pan. Sprinkle evenly with half of sugar and cinnamon mixture. Pour in rest of batter. Sprinkle with remainder of sugar and cinnamon.
Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes – not longer or it might burn. Remove from oven and allow to cool for 10 minutes. Invert onto cake plate.
After fully cooled, dust with confectioner’s sugar and enjoy!
©2010 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Seaside Wedding Cake
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Remembering Nana's Apple Sour Cream Kuchen
A while back I picked up some pristine, perfectly-rounded small apples at the farmers market -- Ginger Gold, if memory serves. They shimmered with flecks of green and gold, and just a dab of pink blush.
For some reason, I immediately thought of Nana's Sour Cream Apple Kuchen. I hadn't tasted it in years, but the sweet memory was still vivid - buttery apples, dusted with cinnamon and arranged in a mosaic atop molten yellow cake.
Perhaps it was their perfect shape, but I could easily picture those apples sliced into perfect half moons, radiantly adorning the top of one of Nana's celestial kuchens.
Now I'm certain Nana – who passed eight years ago – probably never tasted a Ginger Gold apple. But she had an eye for perfect slices, and her Apple Kuchen, neatly arranged in a 9-by-13 baking pan, was present at many family gatherings. Ask my brothers or cousins – they’re certain to remember it.
Returning to my desk, I call Mom. Do you have the recipe for Nana’s Apple Kuchen? No?? Astonishing, since hoarding recipes has proven to be a genetic trait.
I search the Internet for kuchen recipes, but they seem complicated and some even require yeast. Not likely - Nana was good, but scratch baking was usually reserved for cookies. And, I didn’t remember yeast in the kuchen. It was more a homey, easy-to-prepare recipe, with love as the main ingredient.
Then Mom calls me back – she’s located a recipe in one of her newer cookbooks that might come close. It sounds right, so I give it a try. My little mandolin slices those Ginger Gold apples into paper-thin crescents. And the aroma? I am ten years old again.
I take the Apple Sour Cream Kuchen to the office, where Zany, Mad Me-Shell and the boss dig in. It’s a little like sharing the vivacious spirit of Nana, even today.
Here’s the recipe if you’d like to give it a try. Don’t judge me for using a box cake mix. The taste is absolutely what I remember, and I think Nana would have approved. Overall, I think she was a believer in the end result of baking, and not a stickler about the process.
1 package (18.25) plain yellow cake mix
1 cup sour cream
8 tablespoon butter (1 stick) melted
1 large egg
3 cups peeled, sliced cooking apples
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
½ cup sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 13 by 9 inch baking pan with butter.
Place cake mix, sour cream, 4 tablespoons melted butter and the egg in a large mixing bowl. Blend with mixer on low until the dough just comes together. Press dough evenly over the bottom of the pan, pressing up the sides. Bake in oven for 10 minutes.
Arrange apple slices in rows across the top of the warm cake. Sprinkle sugar mixture over apples. Drizzle remaining 4 tablespoons of melted butter over the sugar mixture. Return the pan to the oven and bake until golden brown, about 30 to 32 minutes. Cool on wire rack for 20 minutes.
©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Casey’s Cookies – Chocolate Chip Connoisseur Makes Dough and Helps Others
Casey has taken the iconic neighborhood lemonade stand to a new level. Through word-of-mouth and a smart distribution program, he does a brisk trade. Ten percent of all his profits are donated to Heifer International, a fact that is prominently noted on his glossy business cards.
“Because I just like eating cookies,” is his very direct response.
A love of cookies seems to have inspired a budding entrepreneur. At the age of 11, Casey was already baking for his family and since he liked to cook, he stopped by a local restaurant – The Lusty Lobster – to ask the chef for some culinary advice. He’d bring the restaurant staff his homemade cookies as a thank-you gift for the guidance they gave him. The owner suggested that Casey should try and sell his cookies, and let him place a basket of cookies in the restaurant foyer with a money jar, so that patrons could purchase the cookies. The cookies proved so popular that soon Casey had set up baskets and jars at several other eateries in town. Today, he bakes between five- to six-hundred cookies a week to meet the demand for his product.
He is a self-taught baker. His signature recipes were achieved with some tinkering and experimentation. Chocolate Chip is Casey’s best-selling cookie and his personal favorite. I ask what his friends think of Casey’s culinary enterprise.
“They think I’m crazy,” he replies casually. “They say, Hey Casey, let’s go play basketball, but I’m like, no I have to go bake cookies.”
He charges fifty cents per cookie and says he has donated nearly two-thousand dollars of his profits to Heifer International. Since 1944, Heifer has helped 10.5 million families in more than 125 countries move toward greater self-reliance through the gift of livestock and training in environmentally sound agriculture. Casey chose Heifer International for his philanthropic efforts because it is the preferred charity of his favorite celebrity, Alton Brown of the Food Network.
The oldest of four brothers, Casey spends two hours baking every day, and all day on Friday during the summer. For the annual Highlands Clamfest in early August, he baked nearly two-thousand cookies.
I ask him why he thinks the customers keep coming back for more. He shrugs. “Because they like cookies?” he suggests, and then pauses and adds drolly, “Maybe it’s my green hair?”
He is well-equipped to keep the business functioning smoothly. “I’ve got a really big mixer and it’s really cool,” he tells me. “It’s a heavy duty one and I got it for Christmas, and it has flame decals on it.”
Casey freely offers advice for home bakers who are interesting in making cookies: “Make them from scratch, and don’t use mix. And, use actual flour and not corn syrup. And, actually use sugar and good ingredients.”
Does he aspire to a career in baking? “I don’t want to have a big corporation,” Casey says. “I just want to have a little town bakery.”
Ken Harber is the owner of The Baking Company and the Water Witch Coffee & Tea Company in Highlands. He has been a friend, mentor and role model to Casey. Says Casey of Ken, “He’s so cool and he has so much advice he can give me.”
“The baking is just a symptom of a great person under construction,” Ken tells me when I ask him to describe Casey.
Harber is impressed by the teen’s business skills. “His math is very good. He knows how to figure how much he can make in his allotted time, and his ingredients and all that. He’s learned a lot.”
Harber was more than willing to make a place for Casey’s Cookies in his store. “I told him it’s good for the neighborhood and it’s good for you.”
“He’s just as nice as could be and I would do anything for him,” says Harber. “If one other kid around here sees this kid making something out of himself, then it’s worth it.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that, but I’m trying to stay modest.”
Casey’s Cookies accepts special orders. Please give at least 24 hours notice for orders of 12-100 cookies. For orders of 100+ cookies, please give one week’s notice. Delivery is available within Highlands for a $2.00 delivery charge.
©2009 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Christmas Cookies – Tante Kremer’s Walnut Egg White Kisses
Here’s how my mom told the story last year:
“We called her simply “Tante” and her husband “Uncle.” But they were Elizabeth and Joseph Kremer, my father’s aunt and uncle who had emigrated from Hungary. My father’s mother died when my father was a teenager and Tante mothered him from then on. Tante and Uncle’s home in College Point, Long Island became Dad’s home more than his own. In fact, I never remember talk of any other home. Dad absolutely adored Tante and Uncle and his three cousins Rose, Katie and Margaret. He became one of their family.
Tante Kremer’s Walnut Egg White Kisses
4 egg whites beaten with 1 lb. superfine sugar and juice of ½ lemon. Beat until whites stand in a good stiff peak. Add 1 lb. of quartered walnuts. Drop by teaspoon on wax paper on cookie sheet – using a piece of nut on each spoonful. Bake in slow oven 300 degrees until brown.
(Notes: Bake “until brown” means slightly beige in color. I baked the kisses for about 20-22 minutes rotating the pans halfway through the baking time. The walnuts actually conduct a bit of heat and bake the inside of the cookie more quickly than a typical meringue cookie.)
Monday, December 08, 2008
Christmas Cookies - Nana’s Sandbakkels
Nana’s ancestral roots were primarily German. So how did she end up known, among other things, for a Scandinavian Christmas cookie? Ruth Barritt (pictured below, a little before my time) was a bit of a recipe hoarder (could we surmise that this is a genetic trait?), and when she tasted something she liked, she usually made a point of getting the recipe and trying it herself.
My brother Jim has kept up the practice at Christmastime, but I’d never made sandbakkels until now, and didn’t honestly know if they really had any direct association with the Christmas season beyond our family memories. I did a little investigating and turned up the book “Keeping Christmas” by Kathleen Stokker, which looks at Norwegian Christmas folk traditions and their evolution in the United States. Stokker mentions a seminal Norwegian cookbook, written by a minister’s wife named Hanna Winsnes in 1845, where recipes for sandbakkels and other traditional Norwegian cookies can be found.
Sandbakkels were one of many cookies prepared during the Advent season. Norwegians would serve cookies with a glass of wine at midday or with after-dinner coffee. Stokker notes that cookies such as sandbakkels became popular among the professional class around the time the Winsnes book was published, and were adopted by the peasant class much later in the 19th century. The Winsnes book was hugely popular and carried by Norwegian immigrants to the United States where many of these baking traditions took root, as the sandbakkel tradition did in Nana’s kitchen in Laurelton, New York. And, in that same tradition of passing good recipes along, I offer her version here:
Nana's Sandbakkels
One cup of sugar
One cup of soft butter
One egg
½ teaspoon almond extract
2 ½ cups sifted flour
Cream the sugar and butter. Add egg, flavoring and flour. Pinch off small pieces of dough about the size of a walnut. Press them into the center of a sandbakkel tin, and press thinly and evenly into sides and bottom.
Merry Christmas, Nana!
©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Junda's Pastry, Crust and Crumbs: Heirloom Baking on Long Island's North Fork
When you bite into the heavenly-scented babka or buttery apple strudel available at Junda’s Pastry Crust and Crumbs, it is more than a sweet indulgence. You become an honored guest at master baker Christopher Junda’s extended family table. Ancestry, local history, antiques and heirloom recipes are all essential ingredients baked into the classic breads, cakes and pastries found within the rustic display cases at the Jamesport, Long Island community bakery.
Junda’s is set on a small embankment on the North side of Route 25, commonly referred to as “the Main Road.” It is a solid, two-story, white-shingled structure with green trim. Helen Junda greets me warmly inside the shop. She has shoulder-length dark hair and is friendly and conversational. Married to Chris, she is the business manager for the bakery and describes to me the couple’s journey that led to opening a bakery in this tiny hamlet on the rural North Fork of Long Island.
As I walk with Helen, it’s a bit like having someone take you on a tour of their home for the first time. Her pride is evident, and while Junda’s is a business, it is clear that the concept of “home” is intimately connected to the baked goods. She describes how Chris – who received his culinary training at Newbury College in Massachusetts – was between jobs as an executive pastry chef and started selling homemade pies from the porch of his parent’s home in Jamesport.
“He sold out in an hour,” Helen explains.
The pies were so popular that Jamesport residents started buzzing about the need for a bakery on the North Fork. Soon the couple set their sights on the most historic structure in town. The building was built in the 1700s and is believed to be the oldest home in Jamesport. Helen leads me to the attic, where centuries-old hand-hewn beams and the original brick chimney are visible.
The original owner may have founded Jamesport, and slaves are believed to have once worked the property. It was an antique store when the Jundas approached the owner about purchasing the house and land. Once they acquired the building, the Junda’s would spend three years on renovations. A large refrigeration unit was added, along with professional ovens and mixers. The formal parlor of the original building became the retail space. “Chris wanted to create an old fashioned bakery that was like a home,” says Helen.
The hectic demands of the modern world dissolve away and the tantalizing aromas and homespun, country feel of the parlor room cabinetry whisk you back to a bygone era. The floor beams are original and an antique pie rack from a beloved aunt is stocked with scrumptious wares.
Helen describes how Chris loved antiques and had a passion for art. Pastry is indeed his artistic medium. The assortment of baked goods is staggering – European-style artisanal breads, babka, chocolate linzer heart cookies, pies, pear frangipane tarts, German pfferneuse, lemon coconut cake, individual pies, tarts and cakes, individual babka, black and white cookies, and jelly- and custard-filled doughnuts. While the hackneyed “kid in the candy store” phrase comes immediately to mind, it doesn’t come close to describing the confectionary fantasy that greets you at Junda’s. A steady stream of customers file into the store. One of them tells me that the line of patrons is typically, “out the door.” Another gazes dreamily at the display cases and asks for “one of everything.”
Like a favorite relative, Helen moves through the store, assembling a bag of samples for me to take when I leave. “Chris uses all butter,” she tells me. “Most bakeries use a combination of butter and shortening.” In the kitchen she slices a piece of Junda’s signature apple strudel, a recipe inherited from a retired German baker named Alfred who worked for a time at the store.
We encounter Chris in the kitchen. He has just concluded a meeting with a couple who are planning their wedding. Junda’s supplies exquisite tiered cakes to the wedding receptions that take place in the vineyards of the North Fork. One wall of the bakery is covered with notes of thanks from couples who began their lives together with a slice of wedding cake from Junda’s.
Chris is a stocky man, and wears a tan golf shirt that is adorned with multicolored splatters of frosting. We gather around a work bench to hear his story. He reminisces about Sunday trips to the local bakery as a child, summers on the East End of Long Island, the pies his family purchased at Briermere Farms in Riverhead and the relatives and trained bakers who have influenced his career. Chris maintains that he always knew where he’d end up. Today, he is both an artisan and a curator.
“We’re an Eastern European Bakery,” he explains, pointing out that he is of Polish descent and Helen is from an Italian family. Recipes are not the kind that are typically written down, but those that are passed down from one generation to another. Chris learned to bake “by texture and feel” from relatives and professional bakers, measuring ingredients by the handful. “It’s all hand done. It’s all done the old way.”
His father supported his efforts and helped in the renovation of the bakery. Chris even had connections to the original building, and would visit the owner of the antique store that preceded the bakery. “I never bought an antique from him, but I bought his house,” Chris smiles.
With Chris handling the baking, and Helen handling finances, he says they “make a good team.” He still has an apron that belonged to an aunt. The “Aunt Alice Cake” – a chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting – is named after a relative who taught him the recipe. Fruits and vegetables are purchased from the local orchards and farms. His first customer still gets an honorary cake each year. Chris makes old fashioned jelly-doughnuts because his customers like them. And, the apple strudel bequeathed by Alfred the German baker flies off the shelves at Junda’s
It is a family business, deeply rooted in the community. “All these people watch over me,” Chris says. “The name is Junda’s. I’ve modeled it after my relatives because of what they instilled in me.”
Chris returns me to the parlor room, where we are met by my friend Mary Ellen, a North Fork real estate tycoon. We say our goodbyes to Chris and head on to our lunch engagement.
Later, back in Mary Ellen’s living room, we open the bag to examine the goodies packed by Helen. We taste German pfferneuse, delicate and crumbly, scented with nuts and spices. There are decadent butter cookies, fruity Linzer hearts and a cookie filled with dark, chocolate Grenache.
Then, we unwrap the apple strudel. Tender golden apples – with a juicy, just-picked sweetness – are tucked into translucent, shimmering layers of pastry, kissed with the delicate aroma of cinnamon and dusted with powdered sugar. It is a luminous creation, and tastes far superior to anything ever purchased at a typical bakery establishment.
With a single, succulent bite, we become a part of Chris and Helen Junda’s baking legacy.
Junda’s Pastry Crust and Crumbs is located at 1612 Main Road, Jamesport, NY, 631-722-4999.
©2008 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved