Lunchtime fads, pudding races, and two lucky readers

And the winner of the food excerpt contest is....Ramona Quimby, Age 8!

With an impressive almost-40% of the vote, this one was the clear favorite. I'm willing to bet that this passage won on equal parts nostalgia and writing. The story itself is clever, and something that many of us can easily relate to; grade school fads and trading lunches were a part of just about every one's lives at one point or another.

In seventh grade, my favorite lunch consisted of an onion bagel with cream cheese, a Snickers bar, and a bottle of Orangina. These were purchased from the local bagel store and cost just south of five dollars. My mom would stop the car in front of the shop while my little brother Gab and I would pop in and place our order, grabbing the snacks while the sweet round lady behind the counter (Linda, I believe) would quickly schmear the bagels and divide into two brown paper bags. It was the perfect combination: the sweetness of the chocolate, the saltiness of the cheese, and the fizzy orange beverage.

When I reached high school, I started attending a private catholic prep school about 20 minutes away so we rarely had time to stop anywhere to buy lunch before getting to school on time (this may or may not also have had something to do with my morning hair & make-up routine). With a mom that was just as busy, the idea of "making lunch" never really entered the equation so my dad got into the habit of leaving us each five dollars on the kitchen table for us to buy from the school cafeterias.

I used to consider these five dollars an additional source of income, and would usually opt for a cheap lunch of a 60 cent Snickers from the vending machine (I have a thing for nougat), pocketing the other 4 dollars and 40 cents. When you factored in the 3 dollars my dad also gave me for bus fare (unnecessary as I regularly had a friend drive me home) going to school quickly turned into quite the money-making enterprise.

There were, however, some days when hunger trumped mall cash and so on those days I often indulged in one of two of my favorite menu items: the "hot ham and cheese" on a roll (melty and salty and thoroughly un-nutritious) and "chocolate pudding." Now the chocolate pudding was more of an event than a meal. Best friend Vanessa and I quickly invented a rather absurd game that probably did little to ingratiate us with the "cool kids." It was called "Pudding Races" and it went like this:

1.) Vanessa and I would take turns buying a package of Peanut M&Ms from the vending machine, plus two bowls of pudding (one each).

2.) We would then divide the M&M's equally (about 14 or so each) and mix them into the pudding. These we referred to as "Obstacles."

3.) Next we'd call time and proceed to see how quickly we could shovel down our bowl of pudding and M&Ms (the obstacles there to "slow us down") before the M&Ms started to melt and lose their color in the pudding.

4.) Whoever finished first, won. There was no actual "prize"; just lots of giggles and strange looks from the "normal" girls.

Surprisingly, neither one of us ever choked during these races. Not quite surprisingly, we both had to ask our respective gay best friend to the prom. Related? Perhaps...


*****
I'm contacting the winners of the Italian Rainbow cookie now and once I hear back from both I will post their names. In the meantime, why don't you share some of your grade school lunchtime memories in the comments section?

Ina Garten Likes My Cookies

Or rather, I'm pretty sure she would like them, given the chance to taste them. A chance we would have both had, if only I'd known that she was going to be making an appearance in my building today. My briefly-entertained fantasies of impressing Ina into friendship with my cookies were dashed when I realized that I did not have any cookies with me. Gone were the daydreams of being invited out to her fancy Hamptons tea parties with the charming local gourmands.

And what was Ina doing here in the first place, you wonder? Well, every so often, the upper-ups at the massive corporation that I work for (and which shall continue to go unnamed) bring in a celebrity guest chef to stand in our cafeteria shaking hands and signing autographs. Some of you might remember the tizzy I was in over our last (sexy) guest: Rocco (sexy) Dispirito. Ina didn't inspire quite the same sexually-charged frenzy, but there was most definitely a bit of excitement in the air. All the cafeteria was abuzz with hushed words about Ina, Jeffrey, and their lovely Hamptons home. I admit that, like Rocco before her, I've never been a huge fan in terms of her culinary abilities, but I do occasionally watch her show because it's on and because I like how much she talks about her husband Jeffrey who is perpetually out of town on "business."

(Side note: I'm not quite sure what Jeffrey is always doing away on business. Fortunately, Ina has lots of friends to keep her company in his absence. These friends all seem to be stunning gay men who own gourmet cheese shops and wineries in the Hamptons, and are always more than happy to show up hostess gift in hand to her nifty themed dinner parties ("make your own pizza!" "retro comfort food!" "grown-up sundaes!").)

Though my encounter with Ina was much more eloquent than the giggly mumbling I managed before Rocco, it took all my will power to resist asking about Jeffrey and what he's eating now that *she* is the one out of town. I imagine she left a roast in the oven and some homemade ice cream in the freezer. Perhaps even a few freshly baked scones and home-churned butter for breakfast. I spent much of my time in line debating the question that has plagued me for ages regarding the contessa; is it eee-nah or ayy-nah? Fortunately she answered the question for me when she introduced herself and shook my hand with her own chubby warm hand. I promptly forgot the correct pronunciation, so taken was I with the Contessa's warm presence. She was gracious enough to pose for a photo, which I promise to post soon despite the fact that I came out looking much less than fabulous. Awkward and hunched over would be more accurate actually; she's short and I'm not. Also, I was subtly trying to hide my chicken Ceasar club lettuce wrap behind her back to keep it out of the picture. Not the easiest thing when one is in the presence of celeb chef glory.

As for my cookies, well, as threatened: a springtime twist on the classic Italian rainbow cookies! (Yes. I'm obsessed).

I played around with the colors and flavors and came up with this yummy white chocolate, raspberry, and lemon curd version that might actually be even BETTER than the original! Ina didn't get a chance to taste them, but I did bring in some tiny samples for my coworkers.

"It's like crack," I said as I handed out the bite-sized pieces. "The first one is free; just let me know if you want any more."

I've already sold three batches of them so I'm thinking the business model works. And yes, I was entirely influenced by the American Gangster DVD that arrived from NetFlix this past weekend.

xoxo

Alejandra

P.S. She wasn't actually barefoot. I'm not really sure what that whole thing is about in the first place.

P.P.S. Doesn't "Ina Garten" sound like "In a Garden"? Which is just perfect since most of her parties are actually thrown in her garden...

P.P.P.S. Buy your own batch of my springtime version and regular italian rainbow cookies here.

Rainbows for Sale (and a delightful little contest for you to enter!)

For about as long as I can remember, people have been telling me that I should stop giving my food away for free. By "people" I really mean my "father" who is perpetually trying to figure out ways for me to turn my various hobbies and projects into cash-generating enterprises (please see Exhibit A: "The Sexy Fiction Incident"). I usually would listen to his suggestions with a smile and a quickly forgotten promise to "think about it."

Now it's not that I have actual objections towards making money. Quite the contrary; I really like money--earned, found, gifted--it's really all quite lovely. The problem was that I never really approached any of these hobbies with quite the same mercenary eye as my dad. It may sound cliche, but I really do just love to write and cook and bake and blog and design websites and edit graduate school application essays. (OK, perhaps not so much the essays--will admissions season *ever* end?!) The thing is that these little hobbies actually start to add up after a while--software, drawing tablets, hosting fees, butter, cream, eggs, etc... Not to mention the time.

It all finally clicked a few weeks ago when I passed by a bakery not far from my office and saw in the window that they were selling rainbow cookies for $1.50 each. "What the heck!?" I thought to myself. They were rather generously portioned, but still I could not believe it. Just a month or so earlier I'd brought in a batch of 30 into my office for free. A batch that I'd made over the weekend and which my coworkers somehow managed to devour in minutes. I'd made them before and they're always a hit with coworkers, friends, and family. It's my most requested treat, and here I was giving it away when I could have been selling it for a buck and a half each.

So the wheels started turning and today I'm excited to announce that I'm going into the (virtual) bakery business. Come visit my brand new online bakeshop: http://alwaysorderdessert.etsy.com/.

I'm selling a small selection of cookies and cakes, all baked fresh to order and shipped priority across the contiguous United States (and parts of Canada). I'm starting small with Italian Rainbow cookies, Italian Rainbow cake, and my financier-madeleines, but hope to expand soon to include flourless tortes and a few other treats. I've already received my first orders and am giddy with excitement.

And because old habits die hard...

I'm giving away one final batch of Italian Rainbows to one lucky reader. (Shh...don't tell my dad!)

These moist little almond cakes are layered with organic raspberry and apricot preserves and topped with a yummy cap of bittersweet chocolate. I'm telling you, it's the perfect cookie and it could be yours.

Is your mouth watering yet? Here's the scoop. As you know, I love to read. I have an entire room in my apartment dedicated to my books ("the library"). How many New Yorkers do you know with a "library"? As a way of combining these two passions, I've been working on a little side project compiling a collections of wonderful food scenes in novels, stories, and creative nonfiction. There are the classics, of course (Proust and his Madeleines, the sexy rose petals in Like Water for Chocolate), but I want to find some new ones.

So, your mission, (should you choose to accept it): Send me a wonderful literary food scene that you've read and love. It can be as short as one great sentence describing the taste of tea or a ten-page soliloquy about ripe figs. The only requirements are that they are about food and that they come from a non-cookbook. Fiction is preferred, but great passages from food memoirs or other types of creative nonfiction are also OK. The classics are good, but those that are less obvious (perhaps even a bit obscure) will score slightly better (although it's really ultimately about how good it is).

I will select my five favorite passages (chosen both for originality and the quality of the passage) from all the entries and will post them on the blog for readers to vote. The entry that gets the most votes wins and I will send that person a beautifully packaged "Tea Party Box" of 24 decadent rainbow cookies.

But wait! There's more!

Since this is obviously meant to be a bit of self-promotion, I'm going to be awarding a SECOND batch of 24 to one randomly-selected entrant. You can double your chances to win in the random drawing by mentioning the contest (and my online shop) on your blog or website. Send me the link along with your entry and I will include your name twice in the final drawing.

So how does that sound? I can't even begin to explain how freaking excited I am about this!! (Yes. Freaking excited!)

The contest starts right now and I will be accepting submissions until midnight on Friday March 21st. The five finalists (as chosen by moi) will be posted on Monday the 24th and voting will continue until Sunday March 30th. The two winners will be announced on Monday the 31st and the prizes will ship out that week. Send your submissions to alwaysorderdessert (at) gmail (dot) com with the phrase "Contest Submission" in the subject line.

I can't wait to see your entries!

Oh! And if you can't wait to try my cookies (and how can you possibly wait? they're so damn good!) why not head on over to http://alwaysorderdessert.etsy.com/ and order yourself a batch.

All my blog readers get 10% off their entire first order just by mentioning one of my blog names in the buyer's notes section of your order. I take special custom order (birthdays, showers, parties, etc.) and for the New Yorkers in the bunch, save on shipping with my local delivery and pick-up options within Manhattan. Don't be limited by what you see on the site--I love getting creative! Just ask!

Rainbow Italiano

The sight of this cake rips my heart with joy. It's something I've been meaning to make for a while now. I based it on the Italian Rainbow cookie (sometimes also called the Venetian or the Tri-Color), which to me has always been the queen of the bakery store cookie assortment. Perched among the crumbly butter cookies like regal peacocks, these cookies put those pastel petit fours to shame with their bright colors and intense flavor.

It's an Italian American thing--a moist little cookie made from tiny dense layers of almond sponge sandwiched together with raspberry and apricot jams before being coated with a final layer of bittersweet chocolate. Growing up in North Jersey, these cookies were present at every single family or community function, from PTA meetings to birthday parties. I used to load up on them, grabbing them three and four at a time and tucking them into an open napkin when nobody was looking. Later, I'd find a quiet corner where I could devour them slowly and methodically, one sweet almond layer at a time.

There is something about the combination of bitter almonds and raspberry that has always delighted me. It's the taste of decadence: rich with intensity, and yet just a hint of something illicit. Bitter almonds are poisonous, after all... The flavor in this cake comes from a combination of almond extract (which in actuality is extracted not from almonds, but from that flavorful little nut hidden inside peach pits) and almond paste. Note that almond paste should not be confused with marzipan, which is different, but still makes an appearance in this cake (read on...).

This cake is a gigantic version of that childhood favorite. I was never satisfied with those tiny little cakes, and was always left wanting more. This cake is basically my way of saying, "you can have as much as you want!"

It was a fairly simple conversion to make. I only had to slightly modify the origianl recipe (which I've been making for a year now), by lightening and leavening the cake. I alternated these moist, fluffy layers, with jam and--for an extra bit of almond flavor--a thinned out layer of marzipan (I told you it would make an appearance). I knew the hard, bittersweet chocolate coating would be too harsh on a cake of this size, so I made a silky semi-sweet chocolate ganache using thick farmer's market cream and just a hint of almond extract. The colors come from food coloring, and are the traditional red and green layers of the original cookie (just one of the hundreds of edible Italian flag homages--Italians, it seems, like to eat their flag), with the marzipan serving as the "white."

I baked it in 9 inch rectangular pans and then cut and stacked to form an almost terrine-like brick. Over this carefully constructed structure, I poured the silky ganache (and how I wish I could have poured and photographed at the same time as there few things more beautiful than watching chocolate ooze over the sides of a pile of almond cakes). I left to cool on the countertop overnight, and then cut in half in the morning. I brought one half into work, where my coworkers devoured it with their morning coffee. I saved the second half for my dad, who stopped by after work tonight to pick it up. The station he work at is just over the bridge, about 10 minutes from my apartment, so when he finishes the evening newscast he regularly pops over to partake of that day's baking. (You didn't really think that I ate all of this stuff by myself, did you?)

I'll be posting the recipe for this shortly and would love to know what you think.

Oh! And if the pictures and description aren't enough to entice you to bake this, perhaps the knowledge that your apartment will smell like sweet almonds for the next several days will do the trick! I promise you...it's incredible!

UPDATE: This Italian Rainbow cake is now available for sale and delivery throughout the US at my Etsy shop!! I'm also selling (and shipping) traditional and seasonally colored Italian Rainbow Cookies. Click the icon for purchase details:

Italian Rainbow Cookie Cake

Ingredients
1 cup butter (2 sticks) softened
1 cup sugar
4 large eggs, separated
8 oz almond paste. (1 can, please note that this is different than marzipan)
1 tube marzipan (Which is different than almond paste...)
1 teaspoon almond extract
2 cups of sifted flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
red and green food coloring
1/4 cup seedless raspberry jam
1/4 cup apricot preserves
1 cup heavy cream
12 oz semisweet chocolate, chopped (or you can use chips in a pinch)

2 13×9x2 inch pans, buttered and floured

1. In electric mixer, blend almond paste, butter, sugar, yolks and extract until fluffy.

2. Sift together flour and baking powder, then slowly add to almond paste mix.

3. In another bowl, beat egg whites until soft peaks form. Fold meringue into paste mixture until fully combined (the mix will be a bit sticky).

4. Separate the mixture evenly into two bowls and dye each batch a different color.

5. Spread mixture evenly into the pans and bake each separately at 350 degrees for approximately 15 to 20 minutes. You’ll know they are ready once the edges start to brown and a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from the oven and let cool completely.

6. While cooling, divide the marzipan in half and roll out two rectangle-shaped sheets on parchment or wax paper, approximately 8x6 inches each.

Assembling the cake:
1. Cut each sheet in half, so you have four evenly-sized cakes. (You can trim at the end so don’t worry if it’s not absolutely perfect.)

2. Start with a green cake and spread completely with raspberry jam. Feel free to spread as thinly or thickly as you like (I'm all in favor of thick!). Spread raspberry on green cake. Top with a layer of marzipan followed by a red cake. Top red cake with a layer of apricot followed by the second green cake. Top the green with another layer of raspberry and the second sheet of marzipan. Top with the final red cake.

3. Use a serrated knife to trim the edges of the entire cake and even out into a perfect rectangle. Brush off crumbs. (These extra bits are fantastic toasted with a bit of butter on a skillet or tossed into a bread pudding recipe. Or you can just eat them while watching television, like I did...)

4. Prepare the ganache by heating 1 cup of heavy cream in a small saucepan. Take care to not let it boil. Add the chocolate and stir continuously until melted completely. Remove from flame and mix in a dab of butter for a bit of extra shine. Continue stirring in concentric movements to cool. It will be ready when the chocolate is just slightly warmer than your lip. (Dab a bit on the inside of your lip—if it’s just slightly warmer then you’re good to go. If it burns, then I’m sorry... ;)

5.Pour this over the entire cake and let cool.