Meal Prep

For those who like their chocolate sauce rich and thick, this sauce has more body than the Bittersweet Chocolate Sauce (page 243), courtesy of a modest amount of cream. It is particularly appealing when served side by side or gently swirled with White Chocolate Sauce (below) as an accompaniment to wedges of chocolate cake.

One day while cooking some blueberries, it occurred to me that the sharp taste of a sizable shot of gin would nicely complement the berries, so I reached for the bottle and poured some in. Gin’s herbaceous flavor does indeed marry nicely with blueberries—it can hardly be tasted once cooked, but somehow it just rounds out the blueberry notes. Now, whenever I cook with blueberries, a bit of gin finds its way into the mix.

Although fresh raspberries are terrific in this sauce, frozen raspberries also work very well—especially good news when the berries aren’t in season. I can’t think of a lemony dessert that this sauce doesn’t complement.

I fall into the camp of white chocolate lovers because, unlike white chocolate critics, I don’t compare it to dark chocolate. Instead, I appreciate it for its own lavishly rich merits. Because it’s on the sweeter side, white chocolate sauce pairs especially well with desserts with the puckery punch of lemon, such as the Lemon Semifreddo (page 65), Super-Lemony Soufflés (page 130), or Freestyle Lemon Tartlets (page 94.) Be sure to use real white chocolate, one which lists only cocoa butter in the list of ingredients, and no other vegetable fats. Since white chocolate plays such an important part in this sauce, you want it to be as good as it possibly can be.

Mangoes, like most tropical fruits, will tip you off to their ripeness with their aroma. A good, ripe mango has a heady, syrupy scent, and when you hold it in your hand, it should feel slightly soft and a bit too heavy for its size. Although the plump, sweeter varieties, such as Hayden and Tommy Atkins, are the most tempting, slender and wrinkly Champagne or Manila mangoes that you might come across will surprise you with their gentle nuances. Depending on which variety you choose to use in this sauce, start with the smaller amount of sugar and add more if necessary. A spoonful of mango sauce is a nice complement to Coconut and Tropical Fruit Trifle (page 70) or scoops of Toasted Coconut Sherbet (page 152) nestled in cookie cups made with Sesame-Orange Almond Tuiles (page 212).

I make this sauce with blood oranges when they’re available because I like the deep, vivid color their juice adds. One of my favorite and simplest of desserts is a platter of chilled navel and blood orange slices scribbled with this tangy-sweet sauce and sprinkled with chopped pistachios. But this sauce is also good drizzled over a neat slab of Gâteau Victoire (page 32) or a serving of Ricotta Cheesecake with Orange and Aniseed (page 55).

I’ve seen fights break out among pastry chefs over what constitutes crème anglaise, so I’ll stick with the classic. This versatile custard sauce isn’t so rich that it overwhelms, but it is smooth enough to provide a creamy, luxurious component to desserts such as cakes and cobblers. Although not traditional, try a pour of crème anglaise in a bowl of fruit sorbet—the silken richness is a spot-on counterpoint to the icy scoop.

This thin sauce with a fiery personality adds a direct hit of liquor, tempered by caramel, to any dessert that it’s drizzled over. I particularly like it made with Armagnac, Cognac’s rowdy cousin, and paired with Creamy Rice Pudding (page 138). If you wish, you can use bourbon, rum, or any favorite liquor in place of the Cognac.

Burnt caramel is all the rage lately, and for good reason. The slightly bitter notes counter the sugar’s sweetness so that the result is a complex and balanced flavor, not just direct sweetness. It’s important to stop cooking the caramel at just the right moment, which is only a few seconds before it’s scorched. Recipes often advise cooking the caramel until it just begins to smoke, but it isn’t until it begins to foam a bit that its best flavor comes forward. To one-up burnt caramel, you can make salted-butter burnt caramel sauce by using salted butter and stirring in additional salt (preferably flaky sea salt) to taste. It’s delicious!

Anyone intimidated by making dough will quickly get over it in the 3 minutes that it takes to make this one. It’s very easy to put together, very forgiving, and almost impossible to botch. Any flaws, cracks, or imperfections are part of its rustic charm, although I’m confident that even the most inexperienced baker will master it with the very first try. It will likely become your favorite dough to use for any number of open-faced fruit tarts. This recipe can be doubled—an extra disk is good to have on hand in the freezer for later use.

A thin layer of frangipane baked under a pinwheel of sliced fruit in a tart shell crust not only adds richness and the flavor of almonds to complement the sweet-tangy fruit, it also helps keep the tart shell crisp because it acts as a barrier between fruit juices and the pastry. Almond paste is available in the baking aisle of supermarkets. It is not marzipan, which has more sugar and is usually used for modeling and shaping.

One of the basics in any baker’s repertoire is crème pâtissière, or pastry cream. Though the word “cream” appears in its name, there is, in fact, no cream in pastry cream. Cooking egg yolks and milk with a bit of flour creates a smooth, rich custard that looks and tastes as if it were made with cream. Pastry cream is used as the base for many soufflés. It can also be spread in a prebaked tart shell (page 229) and topped with fresh fruit to make a seasonal fruit tart, or piped as a filling into pâte à choux puffs (page 232) that are then smothered in warm Bittersweet Chocolate Sauce (page 243).

There’s lots of controversy about which fat makes the best pie crust: butter, shortening, or lard. I’m not a fan of shortening or lard because I always feel like I’m being unfaithful to butter by not baking with it. And besides, I like its taste. As long as you keep the butter cold and the ice water to a minimum, this dough bakes up plenty flaky. I prefer to use glass pie plates as they make it easy to check on the browning underneath, but metal pie pans work well, too.

The batter for these French puffs is made on the stovetop, then shaped and baked until the eggy mounds balloon into airy, hollow spheres. The puffs take to all sorts of fillings, from simple whipped cream (page 239) to scoops of ice cream, as for Anise-Orange Ice Cream Profiteroles with Chocolate Sauce (page 172). No special equipment is required to make them, and they come together with ingredients you probably already have on hand. A few things to keep in mind: Measure the ingredients carefully—too much liquid results in flat puffs. Dump in the flour just when the butter is melted; if you wait too long, too much of the water will cook off. The finished batter should be thick and shiny and should stick to the spatula when you lift it. Finally, be sure to bake the puffs until they’re deep golden brown all the way around. If they’re underbaked, they may collapse cooling; the darker color means the puffs will stay crisper, too.

This dough is cookielike and sturdy, and it doesn’t need to be weighed down with pie weights for prebaking. But best of all, it’s pressed into the tart pan, so there’s no need for rolling.

I first made this delicious, super-crunchy granola while consulting for Edge of the Woods, a great natural foods market, bakery, and vegetarian café in New Haven, Connecticut. At the time, I was developing lots of agave nectar desserts and goodies for diabetics and clients concerned with sugar when it occurred to me that there were no good-tasting, sugar-free granolas available. Hence the birth of Orange Pecan Granola, a staple in our household! Great on its own as a snack, or sprinkle it over yogurt, fresh fruit, or even frozen yogurt for dessert.

I cooked for a lot of crazy signoras when I lived in Italy, and one of them whipped me into shape by insisting that the tomatoes for tomato sauce be put through a food mill first. For the uninitiated, it’s kind of like an old coffee mill, but with a more tightly geared hand crank. In would go the roasted tomatoes, and each crank by hand would squeeze them through holes in the side of the mill. I needed a tube of Bengay for my arms after the first batch, but the result is a far lighter sauce than any store-bought variety. If you’re not up for the workout, just lightly pulse the tomatoes in a food processor.

Like the Cilantro Lime Vinaigrette, this recipe works wonderfully with salads or as a quick way to dress up fish or meat. The lemon kick makes this a great partner for My Family’s Favorite Chicken (page 111).

You know that old Sesame Street song that goes, “One of these things is not like the others …”? Put a cashew next to butter and margarine, and you’ll probably think, “Hey, I know which one of these doesn’t belong.” Think again. I’ve pleased many a client who swears by butter but wants to go dairy free by substituting nut creams, in this case pulverized cashews. Not only is the taste fulfilling and delightful, nuts are far better for you than any store-bought buttery spread made from corn oil.

I used black beans in this recipe because I love their taste and nutritional profile—lots of antioxidants. Because the beans are pureed, you don’t get too much bang for your buck.