roasted peach and creamy vanilla pudding ice pops

I love homemade ice pops.

I mean, let’s be honest here, I also love homemade ice cream and all things sweet and frozen, especially in the summer. Hot weather basically ushers in the season of icy frozen sweet treats for me. There’s something about a homemade ice pop though that just really hits the spot on a hot day. They also happen to hit the spot on a cool day, or a rough day, a stressful day, or a great day, a lonely day, or a day spent with friends.

Making ice pops at home tends to be much easier than making ice cream and doesn’t require such an investment in special equipment. They’re also the perfect single-serving-size. Where eating ice cream requires a certain level of self control, you know you’re done with an ice pop when all that’s left is a clean wooden stick. Ice pops generally tend to be a little bit healthier too, featuring milk, yogurt, or fruit juice rather than heavy cream. So if you go back in for a second one, it’s okay, I won’t tell.

Since milk, on it’s own, isn’t as creamy as the custardy base of ice cream, I think that transforming the milk into a pudding before freezing really improves the texture. I recently did this with chocolate ice pops with great results, so when I was trying to think of what to pair with peaches this time around I thought I’d give it a shot. Worked like a charm!

I infused the creamy pudding with a healthy dose of vanilla bean and thickened it slightly with egg yolk to give it a rich French vanilla custard flavor. It makes the whole thing taste just as rich and decadent as homemade ice cream, and it’s a perfect compliment to the deep summery roasted peaches.

Roasting the peaches heightens and concentrates their flavor and gives them a toasty caramelized depth. It also helps to soften them and make them easier to peel and puree, which is especially great if your peaches aren’t exactly 100% ripe. Pouring the different flavors in alternating layers ensures that each slurp of these pops is a totally fun and refreshing experience.

What more can I say about these? They’re creamy, rich, decadent, & custardy. Their amazing vanilla cream flavor is the star of the show, and it pairs perfectly with the sweet roasted peaches. Just right for summer!

roasted peach and creamy vanilla pudding ice pops

Servings: ten 3oz ice pops
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1 lb fresh peaches (about 2 to 3 large or 3 to 4 small)
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1/2 cup plus 3 tablespoons of sugar, divided
2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon cornstarch, divided
pinch salt
2 cups milk
1/2 vanilla bean, cut lengthwise
2 egg yolks
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 450. Wash peaches and cut them into quarters, discarding the pit. Toss in a bowl with lemon juice and 3 tablespoons sugar. Arrange, cut side down, on a parchment lined baking sheet. Pour any leftover liquid over the peach pieces. Roast for about 20 minutes or until peaches release their syrupy juices and begin to brown. Remove from oven and allow to cool. Once cool, remove the skin from each slice, which should peel off easily. Set aside.

In a small saucepan, whisk remaining 1/2 cup sugar, 2 tablespoons cornstarch, and salt. Add milk and whisk smooth. Scrape seeds from vanilla bean and whisk into milk along with scraped bean. Heat slowly over a medium flame, whisking regularly. Once slightly thickened and bubbling, cook for one to two minutes more before removing from heat. Place egg yolks in a small bowl, and ladle in about 1/4 to 1/2 cup of pudding. Whisk together, and return to pan. Whisk smooth, return to heat, and bring back to a simmer. Simmer for one or two minutes more and whisk in vanilla extract.

Pour a little more than half of the mixture (probably about 1 1/2 cups) off into a measuring cup or heatproof bowl. Add peaches and remaining teaspoon of cornstarch to remaining pudding mixture. Puree in the pan with an immersion blender or in the pitcher of a blender. Return pan to heat, bring to a simmer, and cook for one or two minutes more. Cool slightly before proceeding.

Layer vanilla pudding and peach pudding mixtures in ice pop molds. I use a mold with ten 3 oz pops, and alternated two layers of each flavor. Try to be slightly more stingy with vanilla pudding, and more generous with peach as you’ll have just a bit more of that.

Cover molds, add sticks about half way into pops, and freeze for a minimum of 4 hours, or until completely frozen through. Remove pops by running each mold under warm water for about 10 or 15 seconds.

rainbow trout almondine

When I was in college I studied in France for a few months.

I was enrolled in a hotel and restaurant management program and applied for a 3 month internship abroad. So, off I went, with 8 other students, to France. Most of the group were culinary students so we started in Paris and studied for a short time at Le Cordon Bleu, then we were off to Central Burgundy where we were each assigned to train at different hotels and restaurants in the area. During the week we were housed by our employers, but on weekends we would return to our home base, an old Bed and Breakfast in a tiny country village that had been turned into student housing. Many of our weekends were spent traveling to different restaurants, vineyards, farms, and assorted culinary points of interest; basically eating and drinking our way through the countryside.

During the week I trained as a backwaiter at a small Inn nestled in a picturesque river valley. The chef and owner was short, thick, and grey; and very much looked the part of French chef at a charming Burgundian Inn. He used to do this ridiculous King Kong impression, swinging from a support column in kitchen and beating his chest, trying to show off his knowledge of what I can only assume he thought was relevant to American college students.

The restaurant’s main dining room was surrounded by windows overlooking a stone patio, a 19th century river mill, and the lush walls of the valley beyond. At night the river and the overhanging trees were lit up to provide a stunning backdrop for diners. The kitchen specialized in upscale versions of homestyle regional classics like escargots, blood sausage with apples and butter, pates and terrines, and fresh trout.

The trout was so fresh in fact, that it was still swimming just before dinner service. At the back of the kitchen they’d diverted part of the river and built a screened in cage where they held live farm raised trout that were delivered once a week. One of my jobs before dinner service was to go out and scoop up 5 or 6 trout with a net and bring them into the kitchen.

I was completely surrounded by amazing food and, at the time, I was a vegetarian.

For those of you who don’t know much about the different regions of France, Burgundy is very rural farming country, and in 2003 the idea of someone choosing not to eat meat for reasons other than religion was completely unheard of. I knew going into the experience that if I didn’t want to starve (or upset my employer) that I would have to at least try to eat some fish. Lucky for me that the restaurant specialized in trout, so ate some fish I did. Now that I eat meat again, I still regret missing out on so many of the other amazing foods I politely turned down over those three months.

As a backwaiter, my main job was to bring finished dishes to the dining room and present them to our guests. My french was probably better than most of the group I was traveling with, but still left a lot to be desired. The restaurant was used to students with less than perfect French, so I was taught a series of pre-rehearsed lines to rattle off for each course during the dinner service. Despite my bad French, most Americans guests at the Inn had no idea that I was from the states. I’d recite my French lines and be on my way, never betraying the fact that I wasn’t a proper French waiter.

That was, until the couple from Rochester came to visit.

The Husband ordered our Truite au bleu, and neither of them knew what they were in for. Truite au bleu, or Blue trout, is a dish that’s prepared by taking a just-killed and cleaned whole trout and soaking it in vinegar before gently poaching in broth. After cooking the chef would prop the trout up on it’s belly so it looked like it was live and swimming, despite the fact that the skin had turned blue and started to peel off the flesh. It’s totally delicious, but I will admit that it’s appearance can be a bit off-putting for most Americans.

Before the plate even hit their table, I knew instantly that this couple was from Central New York. As I approcached them and the wife caught a glimpse of her husband’s dish, her hands went over her eyes and she started losing it. “Oh my gahd! Oh my gahd! That is just too much! Oh my gahd!”, all while peaking at the trout between fingers that were still covering her eyes. Growing up not far from Rochester, her accent was immediately recognizable to me, and I just started laughing and asked them (in English) where they were from. I just had to speak up after that reaction, and we ended up having a really had a nice conversation throughout their dinner. Her husband, by the way, ended up loving the trout.

My favorite trout dish at the restaurant though, was the Truite aux amandes, or Trout Almondine. I don’t have the exact recipe from the Inn, but it’s actually a pretty common French dish so this recipe is very similar. Trout Almondine used to be considered a very fancy pants French entree in the 1980s, but it’s since gone out of fashion here in the US. I think its completely delicious and I vow to singlehandedly bring this traditional French dish back in to American kitchens.

Even though it’s considered “fancy”, this is actually rather quick and easy to prepare. It’s also totally delicious and decadent. Getting trout fillets instead of cleaned whole fish makes things even simpler, but slicing your own fillets is actually pretty simple if you have a nice sharp knife. The mild white fish is dredged in flour and seared in butter for a crispy skin and tender flaky flesh. Then slivered almonds get toasted in the same browning butter with a sprinkle of fresh herbs, and then everything is spooned over the plated trout. Add a squeeze of fresh lemon and you’re done. Totally fancy. Totally French. Totally yummy.

Rainbow Trout Almondine

Servings: 2 servings
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2 whole rainbow trout (or 4 pre-sliced fillets)
1 tablespoon shallot, very finely diced
1 teaspoon fresh thyme, chopped
½ cup all-purpose flour
Salt and freshly ground pepper
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
2 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley
1/4 cup sliced almonds
2-4 fresh lemon wedges

Cut your trout into fillets if they aren’t already. In a dish large enough to fit the fillets, mix the flour, finely minced shallots, and thyme; and season generously with salt and pepper. Stir to combine. Press the trout fillets into flour mixture and pat onto both sides to coat completely.

Heat 2 tablespoons of butter in the largest sauté pan or skillet you have, over medium-high heat. When the butter stops bubbling, try to place all four of the fillets in the pan, skin side down. If you have to do them in stages (I did), it’s fine, but you don’t want to let the first round cool for too long. Sauté the fillets for about 3 minutes, watching carefully that they’re nicely browned but not burned. Turn the fillets over and cook them for about 3 minutes more. Transfer the fish to warm plates while making the sauce.

Add the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter and cook over high heat until it stops bubbling and turns a nutty brown. Add the sliced almonds and stir until just barely toasted. Remove the pan from the heat and allow to cool for a few seconds. Toss in the parsley and a little salt and pepper and stir to combine. Pour everything over the trout fillets and squeeze with a bit of fresh lemon juice. Serve immediately, with lemon wedges, mashed sweet potatoes, and sautéed green beans if desired

caramelized peach cornmeal skillet cake with bourbon whipped cream

So this was supposed to be a simple summer dessert.

I’ve been seeing fresh local peaches making their way into the market, so they’ve been on my mind a lot lately. One of my favorite ways to eat a peach is to hold it in your hand and devour it. Eating a fresh ripe peach is an experience unlike that of most other fruit. When you bite into a peach it’s soft fleshy interior barely puts up a fight. You’re forced to slurp and lick between bites to catch the river of drippy golden juices trying to escape down your chin and wrist. A perfectly ripe peach is sweet and jammy and eating one is an almost vulgar exercise.

As much as I can urge and encourage you to take advantage of peach season before it’s too late, I can’t very well post a recipe titled, “eat a damned peach”. I mean, I guess I could, but it would be weird.

So, the plan was to come up with the perfect recipe to be a vehicle for this quintessential summer stone fruit.

At first I kept thinking of going in the bundt cake direction, but you and I both know I’ve been pumping out plenty of bundts lately. I wanted something a little simpler and more rustic. Something that would highlight and compliment the peaches. So I started brainstorming. For the next few days I was going over all the options I could think of. Cobblers and crumbles, buckles and slumps, pies and galettes, cupcakes and ice cream. Then, suddenly, it dawned on me. Skillet cake! Buttermilk skillet cake! Cornmeal buttermilk skillet cake! Brown butter cornmeal buttermilk skillet cake! Boom. Boom. Boom.

It’s funny the way the mind works. Days of thought and then POW! I had my answer, in detail, in less than 30 seconds.

The recipe is actually pretty simple to make too. You need little more than a skillet, a bowl & a spatula. Oh and maybe a knife for the peaches. Making homemade whipped cream is the only part that really requires any specialty tools.

The only “extra” steps I took to build layers of flavor in this cake were caramelizing the peaches and browning the butter. If you wanted to simplify things you could certainly skip one or both of these steps, but I really think that taking the extra few minutes makes all the difference in making this cake so amazing. Both steps help build a richness and depth of flavor, and I think its worth it in the end.

So like I said before, this was supposed to be an ordinary summer dessert. Something simple that would highlight the perfect peach and its perfect peachiness. Before I even started I knew that it would be good, and that the flavors here were right up my alley, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so different. So extraordinary. So perfect. I simply didn’t expect this to be so wonderful. I didn’t expect it to end up being my favorite dessert of 2014. But… It is.

Before this went into the oven I thought I should probably make sure it wasn’t poison If I was going to go forward with the baking process. So, I stole a little spoonful of batter. Then, I had to have another. And maybe one more after that. Oh my god. Something about this was just soooo good.

Once it had cooled, and I’d gone ahead and photographed it, I sat down and picked up one of the slices I’d cut and staged for the photo. I took a bite.

Whoa. It was perfect. Warm and homey and simple and summery, the perfect dessert.

I am a total sucker for desserts that are rustic, un-fussy, and old-fashioned. While I do sometimes love fancy over-the-top desserts, I’d take a rustic galette or a bubbling crumble over a fussy french pastry any day of the week. I think that’s why I love this cake so much. It’s everything I look for in a dessert. Comfort food at it’s finest.

Baking this in cast iron means the outside edge has a cornbread crustiness, while the interior is soft and delicate. The cornmeal in this cake gives it a bit of texture and bite, but it’s somehow also tender and moist at the same time. The jammy caramelized peaches are soft and gooey and rich. The combination of nutty brown butter, tangy buttermilk, and earthy cornmeal, along with the caramelized sweetness and vibrant summariness of the peaches is unbelievable.

This cake is phenomenal on its own, warm out of the oven or served at room temperature. If you want to, you can serve it with a scoop of good vanilla ice cream. I think that might be overkill though, and recommend you opt for a hearty dollop of bourbon scented whipped cream.

Caramelized Peach Cornmeal Skillet Cake

Servings: 8-12
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adapted from Martha Stewart

1 stick plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
1 1/2 lb fresh peaches
1/4 cup brown sugar
pinch salt
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 large eggs

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. In a 9″ or 10″ cast iron skillet (*see note), brown 1 stick unsalted butter over medium high heat. Brown until butter smells nutty and looks golden. Pour off into a medium heatproof bowl to cool.

Peel peaches (**see note) and slice each into thick wedges. Melt remaining butter in skillet and add peaches, brown sugar, and a pinch of salt. Cook over medium high for about 10 minutes or until juices are bubbling and thick. If the peaches are especially ripe and juicy, you can spoon the slices out and continue reducing the juice for another 5 minutes or so. Remove to a heatproof bowl to cool. Wipe out skillet, return 1 tablespoon of browned butter, and swirl to coat.

In a large bowl, whisk together flour, cornmeal, baking powder, 1 teaspoon salt, and sugar. In bowl with remaining cooled brown butter, add buttermilk and eggs and whisk to combine. Pour wet mixture over flour mixture and mix until just combined. Gently stir in about half of the caramelized peaches and juice.
Pour batter into prepared skillet and spoon remaining peaches and juice evenly over the top.

Bake, with a baking sheet on rack below (to catch any potential drips), until top is evenly browned and a toothpick or cake tester comes out clean, 40 to 50 minutes. Let cool slightly, about 30 minutes. If necessary, run a knife around the edge to loosen. Slice into wedges and serve warm or at room temperature, with bourbon whipped cream if desired (recipe below)

Cooks notes:
*You can use another type of ovenproof skillet if you don’t have cast iron, but I think cast iron will give you the best texture. Also, the original recipe called for a 10″ skillet but I didn’t have one and used a 9″ without a single drop spilling over in the oven.
** To peel peaches you can shock them in a pot of boiling water and transfer to an ice bath. Very ripe peaches will usually peel easily without this method. You can also use a vegetable peeler.

Bourbon Whipped Cream

1 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup confectioners sugar
1 tablespoon bourbon

In a stand mixer with a whisk attachment, whip heavy cream to soft peaks. Add sugar and bourbon and whisk a minute or two more, until the cream reaches stiff peaks.

zucchini & mint soup

So we have some dirt, soil you might call it, in the back behind our apartment.

Many people who are lucky enough to have soil behind their homes like to grow things in said soil. Some people even try to grow edible things. I myself would love to grow edible things, but my soil has the unlucky fortune of residing beneath a big horrible mulberry tree that shades it and prevents much of anything green from ever seeing the bright rays of the sun. Hostas and Ivy do okay, but nothing edible wants to have anything to do with my crumby dirt. I have a few measly herbs in pots, but they do more in the way of surviving rather than thriving. A few years ago I put in some strawberry plants. I think that in the two summers that they were alive they produced exactly 3 berries between them. They’ve since given up and made way for weedy clumps of clover and moss.

It seems that the rest of you don’t have such problems. In the past few weeks I feel like everyone in the world (but me) has been whining about having too much zucchini. It would appear that your soil, and the edibles sustained within, are getting all the sunshine a patch of dirt could ask for.

“Oh look at all this zucchini!”, you say. “Whatever shall I do with all of it? Woe is me!” Oh you poor things! What a burden. I weep for you.

I should be so lucky. My soil wouldn’t spew forth a bounty of zucchini if its existence depended on it. If I want zucchini, I have to buy it at the market like a common chump. Can you even imagine?

My zucchini deficit doesn’t mean though, that I’m immune to the wiles of all the drool-inducing photos and recipes that have been popping up all over the internet lately. Even though I’m not actively trying to rid myself of any zucchini surplus, I’m still forced to watch as you struggle and strive to use up all of yours. I don’t have the ill fortune of all this bounty, but thanks to all of your efforts, I now crave zucchini just the same. Thanks a lot guys.

I thought a nice light soup would be a great way to satiate my appetite for those big green beauties. When I started looking for inspiration though, most of the recipes I found paired the zucchini with basil. I do have a small basil plant in the back, but as if the paltry sunlight wasn’t enough, a little green caterpillar decided to add insult to injury and make swiss cheese of my poor little plant. I was a little worried that basil would be too strong a flavor to pair with mild zucchini anyway, so I tried to think of something else. It didn’t take me long to remember the mint I was given as a birthday gift, which somehow seems to be leading a happyish and healthyish existence.

So, zucchini and mint soup it was, and boy did it deliver. The mint and zucchini pair perfectly together, and the resulting soup is subtle, delicate, and delicious. It’s an ideal light supper for summer nights and hot weather. It’s just hearty enough to be filling, but isn’t at all heavy and definitely won’t weigh you down.

This soup is unbelievably simple and takes no time to make, but somehow manages to taste rich and complex. I’d definitely recommend using the highest quality chicken stock you can find, and if you have some homemade stock in the freezer, now would be the time to use it. Since the other ingredients are so delicate and mild, the stock really adds something. A good vegetable stock would be great here too if you want to make this vegetarian, and leaving out the yogurt would make it vegan.

Whether you have a stockpile to use up, or you have to pay for it like me, this is the perfect way to satisfy your passion for zucchini. This soup is packed with bright, fresh, clean zucchini flavor that’s amplified and deepened with the addition of fresh mint. It literally could not be more summery. It’s smooth and creamy, and retains just a bit of texture when pureed with an immersion blender. Adding yogurt brings a nice hint of tanginess, but if you wanted to keep it dairy free you could substitute a squeeze of fresh lemon juice instead. Served with a nice crusty loaf of white bread, this soup is a summery little bowl of heaven.

Zucchini & Mint Soup

Servings: 4-ish
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adapted from Gourmet Traveler

2 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
salt and pepper to taste
4 garlic cloves, minced or crushed
1 large zucchini (about 6 cups), diced
4 cups chicken stock
½ cup fresh mint leaves, loosely packed

To serve:
greek yogurt or fresh lemon, extra-virgin olive oil, and mint leaves

Heat olive oil in a large saucepan or stockpot over medium heat. Add onion, season with salt and pepper, and stir occasionally until tender, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and zucchini and stir occasionally for another 5 minutes. Add stock, increase heat to high and bring to a boil. Add mint, reduce heat to medium, and simmer until zucchini is just tender, about another 5 minutes. Process with a hand-held blender until smooth. Alternately, pulse in a blender until smooth with no large chunks, but not completely pureed. Check seasoning and adjust to taste if necessary.
To serve, top with a dollop of greek yogurt (or a squeeze of lemon juice), a drizzle of olive oil, and a few fresh mint leaves.