In Jennie's Kitchen

brown butter apple pie

 

If you all knew the recipes I've been keeping from you, there might be a mutiny for my bounty. There's pumpkin ricotta waffles, pumpkin buttercream, homemade sandwich rolls, ricotta spaetzle and more. But there's all this talk of turkey and Thanksgiving, and I figured it would be cruel to not share a recipe for the best apple pie I've ever made, and eaten for that matter.

Until this recipe, I enjoyed making apple pie more than eating it. The sweet scent of apples filling the house as the pie baked, and the staring through the oven door window to spy if the juices are golden and bubbly were always the best part.

Don't get me wrong, all my variations have been winners with friends. It's just apple pie never rocked my world. One reason is I don't like cinnamon with apples. I know, a classic pairing. Flavors pastry chefs deem worth marrying over and over again. To that I say "eh".

So, when I set out to make an apple pie last weekend, I was determined to make one I finally liked. One I'd want to go for seconds on. That means there's nary a pinch of cinnamon in this recipe.

In fact, there are no spices. I prefer to highlight the intense flavor of roasted apples, which is really what apple pie is, albeit wrapped in a buttery pastry crust.

vanilla bean caramel sauce

Before finding the easiest, perfect recipe, my advice for making caramel sauce was going to be pray first. I was also going to recommend having a lot of sugar and cream on hand, and if the kids are home, try not to let too many explicatives fly as you pour your failed experiment down the drain.

That all just makes you want to run into the kitchen and waste some time and ingredients, eh? After four batches, with only one success, I thought maybe it wasn't me.

Maybe it was the recipe.

I'm a fairly accomplished cook, and while I'm not averse to making mistakes in the kitchen, something as simple as caramel should not have stumped me. This is one of those times I wish I had a professional culinary education. The self-taught road can be a costly education, but I figure I'm still ahead of the game financially.

I decided to scout for a new recipe, and came across Elise's over at Simply Recipes. I think what made her recipe successful for me, is it didn't call for adding water. She suggests you can do so if you're worried about the sugar burning, but she also cautions it will take longer since the water has to evaporate before the sugar can begin to caramelize. This was a key difference compared to the first recipe I'd be been working with.

My first attempt at Elise's recipe was an instant success. To be sure it wasn't a fluke, I made another batch (because worst case scenario, you have too much caramel sauce, and that's a good situation to be in).

Then I made a third.

And a fourth.

You can never too sure, or have too much caramel.

it's all in the delivery

I shared an amazing treat with Isabella today—and I didn't even make it.

It was a milkshake, and there was no organic milk in sight. The ice cream surely wasn't some artisnal, real vanilla bean variety either.

And the kicker—hold onto your hats. It was made with Oreo cookies. Not Thomas Keller's fancy schmancy TKO or like the ones they used to make when I managed Tribakery. They were honest to goodness Nabisco cookies.

The whipped cream? It was the bad aerosol stuff from the can that we all have a soft spot for—mine a little squishier than others for all I consumed in my teens.

lara ferroni's raised doughnuts

Last week that doughnut you're looking at made me a hero—no kidding.

I let Isabella have one for breakfast, and we kept it a secret from her little sister. There's no bigger way to gain mommy points than the appearance that you've chosen sides, and a favorite, among siblings.

Of course, I hadn't really, but it had the kid on cloud nine.

Today, the only clouds that hung over our house were stormy, rainy, thunderous ones. All because of a dress. If you have little ones and think the tantrums and emotions calm down, let me burst your bubble now—they don't. To my surprise, they get worse. I think much has to do with the pressure put on kids these days.

Being seven stinks. Developmentally they're still so young and for lack of a better term, immature. But academically, they're pushed to be over achievers. They're told they're big kids, so they have to do all this homework, study for tests and now only get choice time once a week (and that's always in danger if there are few out of control kids in the class).

vegetable wontons

My obession for from-scratch cooking is sometimes my greatest obstacle. When I'm sick, prepared soups, even those from the little Italian shop near my house just won't do. Aside from whatever vitamins, minerals and rest my body craves, I think it has also conditioned itself to need homecooking as much as it requires oxygen to survive.

Luckily, when I got hit with the never-ending cold three weeks ago, Jen had just posted her recipe for wonton soup. She doesn't know it, but she loosened the chains a bit for me. In her post, she said she uses premade wonton wrappers (not to be confused with potstickers). Since we're likeminded in the how, why and where regarding our food, I decided to take her cue.

butternut squash, ricotta & bacon streusel topped muffins

I know what you're thinking.

Three posts in one week? Rest assured I haven't quit my day job. Nor have I won lotto, allowing me time to exclusively maintain this blog, though that'd be a dream gig. Remember last week I mentioned combining butternut squash, ricotta and bacon all in one little muffin?

Yep, it's intense. In a good way, I promise.

fire-roasted salsa

I first made this salsa six weeks ago, just before my carousel of road trips began. I figured surely there'd be no tomatoes left by my next visit to the farmers' market mid-October. If memory serves right, this is normally way late to see tomatoes happily sitting next to pumpkins at the farmers' market.

Alas, every week, I buy some thinking this will be the last batch of tomato jam or marinara sauce. Is it possible this is the upside to global warming? Are my wishes for a never-ending growing season in the northeast coming true?

israeli couscous with squash, dried cherries & pistachios

Mommy guilt is a great motivator. Some spoil with truckloads of toys. For my girls it usually means a batch of cookies. Except children cannot live on chocolate chip cookies alone, even if they are the best in the world—Isabella's words, and I kind of agree.

When I'm away traveling or have a crazy week of evening events, I leave the next best thing to a hug and kiss goodnight—some homecooked comfort to fill their bellies. Isabella's new found love is Israeli couscous. The first time she had it was at our friends and it was lightly seasoned with cumin. I was pretty floored when she not only devoured it, but even asked for seconds. She's a quirky kid when it comes to certain flavors.

pear and ricotta crepes

Anyone who knows me, understands I'm a gal who goes after what she wants. One doesn't get to this point in life, when faced with so many challenges, unless they're brimming with determination, drive and a true passion and belief in something, or someone.

For me, it's a mix of both. I believe in myself. That's not my ego talking, either. It's my inner voice, because lord knows we all need someone whispering "you can do it" in our ears.

Coming off three business trips, two to the west coast, in 16 days, left me at a crossroads.

For the first time, I feel uncertain. I'm not quite sure it's about my path. I'm excited of where I'm heading. Perhaps it was sharing a glimpse into my personal life, beyond that as mother and wife. I must confess it left me feeling a little exposed.

chestnut orange crisps

 

Opinions have been formed, and much is already being said about everyone's Blogher Food experience. Perhaps Debra, said it best today on her blog Smith Bites. It's about the need to build your community. More importantly, I think, is not to get lost in the community.

And really, that's up to you. Each individual must harness their own power, and wake every day with a budding sense of confidence in all they are as a professional, person, mother, sister, and so on. Project that, and trust me, good people will come your way.

Happiness is infectious. Wear it proud, and don't worry what others think.