Showing posts with label pears. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pears. Show all posts

Friday, November 5, 2010

Autumn Sweet-Rolls with Apple, Quince, and Pear Filling


Last Monday morning at 7:30 on the dot, I was sitting quietly on a stool in the pastry classroom, my elbows resting on a stainless-steel work station. Despite the early hour, I was ready to get started, fully expecting my teacher to stride in at any moment and begin the day's instruction. Our class session was to be devoted entirely to chocolate. We would learn, among other things, how to properly temper couverture, and we would each make a small chocolate sculpture. I was rather looking forward to it . . . but the minutes ticked by and Chef Roger failed to appear.


Still in waiting mode, I'd barely opened my textbook to review our latest reading assignment when the chair of the culinary school popped his head in the classroom door and, with an apologetic expression, informed us that our teacher had taken ill--his classes for that day were being canceled. I absorbed the news with a flash of mild disbelief. Well, this is a first! I thought to myself. The standard perception among students is that all the chefs have constitutions of iron. Unless they can't walk, talk, or they're deemed too contagious to stay, they always show up for class.

So, now the question was how to take advantage of this mini-windfall of free time? My mental gears slid easily out of  attentive-student mode. I could be home within 45 minutes at the latest, and I didn't want to waste the next few hours on something as uninspiring as housework or errands. The natural conclusion, then? I should bake--of course!


Driving home, I tossed around the possibilities. Madeleines? Apple dumplings? Maybe that savory onion tart I've been pondering for months? How about a new cookie recipe? And then I remembered the ripe quinces that were languishing, albeit patiently, in the fruit compartment of our basement fridge. That set the wheels of my morning in motion, turning it into a pleasant and productive one indeed.


About this recipe . . .

This is a sweet-roll dough  formula that my mom used for years. Because it's just slightly sweet she made  not only sweet rolls from it, but also dinner rolls like clover leafs and crescents--you name it, she probably tried it. She'd typed the recipe carefully onto a lined index card, crediting it simply to a 1971 book by the editors of Farm Journal.

The filling recipe is one I whipped up on my own. It's composed of a  couple of apples, a couple of quinces, and one pear, all of which are peeled, cored and diced small. ( I'm sure this would be equally good, though, even if made only with the  apples; I was just eager to work with the quinces, as they're new to me. Besides the quinces, I used Granny Smith apples, and an Anjou pear.)  The pieces are tossed with sugar, a bit of flour, and a squeeze of lemon juice. In a big saucepan the filling slowly stews and bubbles, reducing until the mixture has thickened. Spices are added in and, once cool, it makes for a flavorful filling. 


This cozy combo of autumn's fruit, nestled in the slightly sweet and golden-baked yeast dough, is drizzled with a cream-based vanilla icing. You can shape this dough in a variety of ways. Among the possibilities are individual twirls, like cinnamon rolls, or go with one long roll that gets nipped with scissors to expose the filling. Out of one batch of dough, you could try both options--that's what I did.



These treats are definitely best the first day, when extremely fresh. On day two, you'll probably want to warm the rolls up a bit before serving; the long roll, sliced as needed, doesn't seem to dry out quite as quickly. 


Autumn Sweet Rolls with Apple, Quince, and Pear Filling

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

To make the filling:
2 small firm apples (I used Granny Smith)
2 medium size quinces
1 medium size pear (I used Anjou)
1 and 1/4 cups granulated sugar
4 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
1 squeeze of fresh lemon juice
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg


Peel, core, and dice the fruit into small pieces; put all of it in a medium size heavy-bottom saucepan. Squeeze in the lemon juice and stir the fruit. Stir together the sugar and flour in a small bowl, then add that to the fruit and toss to combine and coat.


Heat over a medium-low flame, stirring periodically, until mixture looks very juicy and the pieces begin to soften. If there's not much juice at all, add in a few tablespoons of water or apple juice. Raise the heat and cook until the mixture boils, checking it frequently and stirring, then turn it down and let it reduce until it's thickened. All of this may take up to half an hour or so--just use your own judgment (the only way to wreck it, really, is to burn it!). Pour the mixture into a bowl, stir in the cinnamon and nutmeg, and let it cool completely before using it as filling (it's okay to cool it off in the fridge).



To make the dough:

3/4 cup scalded milk (the milk is heated, but is not allowed to boil)
1/2 cup softened butter, unsalted
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 and 1/4 tsp. salt (I used regular salt)
1 Tbsp. instant yeast
1/2 cup warm water (110 to 115 degrees, about what lukewarm feels like)
4 and 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (I used unbleached)
2 large eggs, lightly beaten

1 large egg, mixed with 1 Tbsp. of water, to use only as an egg wash right before baking

In the large bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment, mix the milk, butter, sugar, and salt. In a separate bowl, whisk together 1 and 1/2 cups of the flour and all of the instant yeast; add this into the mixer bowl. On low speed, beat for 1 minute, then add in the two lightly beaten eggs, mixing just to combine. A little at a time, still on the lowest speed, add in the remainder of the flour. Mix just enough to make a soft dough that eventually leaves the sides of the bowl. Now, switch to the dough hook, and knead on low speed for 4 minutes (or, if you prefer, knead entirely by hand for 8 minutes).

Then, take the dough out of the bowl, and finish kneading it by hand on a lightly floured surface; knead until it feels elastic, satiny, and it's no longer sticky.


Place the dough in a lightly greased bowl, turning the dough over to grease both sides. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, then with a lightweight dish towel, and place it in a warmer-than-room temperature spot to rise until it doubles in volume; this may take up to about 90 minutes.

Remove the risen dough from its bowl and divide it in half; put half the dough back into the bowl and cover it with the plastic while you're working with the other half.



To shape the dough into individual twirls (versus one long roll), use a rolling pin to roll the dough into a rectangular shape about 12" by 9". Spread half the filling onto it, pushing it toward the edges with the back of a large spoon or a spatula.



Beginning at the long side of the dough, carefully roll it up, pinching to seal the long seam as best you can; place seam side down on a cutting surface (it may seem pretty floppy and soft, but don't worry). Using an extremely sharp knife (like a chef's knife, not a bread knife), cut the roll into pieces about 1 and 1/2 inches thick. Lift the pieces gently and place them on their sides, evenly spaced, into a well greased baking pan (I used an 8"  square metal pan and I sprayed it first with Pam, then I used a combo of butter and Crisco to grease it--sounds like overkill, but you can't be too careful--that's my motto!).


Cover the pan with greased plastic wrap and a dish towel, and let it rise again for about one hour, until almost doubled.

Brush the tops of the rolls lightly with the egg wash. Place the pan on top of a cookie sheet to help prevent the bottom of the rolls from burning. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, at 375 degrees in a preheated oven. Remove from the oven when golden brown and no longer wet looking. Let the rolls cool for just a few minutes, then cover the pan with a cooling rack and quickly invert it. The bottom becomes the top; you should see a lot of fruit on the rolls as you pull off the pan.


Let them cool on the rack until slightly warm, then drizzle them with the icing.
 
Alternately, if you'd prefer to shape your dough (meaning, half of your entire batch of dough) into one long roll, follow the above instructions for shaping (roll out a 12" x 9" rectangle, spread the filling on it, roll it up lengthwise, pinch the seam closed, and place seam-side down on a generous sheet of parchment paper), but instead of slicing the roll into individual pieces with a knife, take a sharp pair of scissors and nip little "V" shapes into the top of the roll at intervals of about 1" or so, to make little windows that will allow the fruit to be seen and steam to escape.


Cover the long roll with greased plastic wrap, then with a dishtowel, and let it rise again until almost doubled (about an hour).

Bake on a sheet of parchment that's been placed onto 2 layered cookie sheets (again, 2 sheets will help prevent the bottom from burning), at 375 degrees in a preheated oven for about 20 minutes; at that point, if the top is already quite golden, cover it lightly with foil and keep on baking until the roll feels kind of firm and the bottom is deep golden brown, but not dark brown. Let it cool on a cooling rack, and when it's still slightly warm, drizzle it with the icing.

To make the icing:
In a small bowl, stir about 1 and 1/2 cups of confectioners' sugar together with a couple tablespoons of heavy cream or half-and-half, along with 1/2 tsp. of vanilla extract. Adjust the thickness by adding more sugar, or more cream. Stir until completely smooth.



Best eaten while really fresh!

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Friday, October 2, 2009

Perfectly Paired . . . Pear Bread with Dried Cherries and Ginger . . .

Sometimes it's hard to decide just what to put into a recipe, especially an inherently flexible recipe like a quick-bread. There are so many choices. It can be a wee bit scary--that terrifying cornucopia of options. But other times, on days you're feeling brave, the presence of options feels really good. I love having options . . . the wondrous, varied, multitudinous volcano of possibilities to choose from. I love concocting a new recipe, willingly accepting that I might be screwing it up in the process, corrupting it entirely beyond redemption.

In the kitchen, it can be a good thing to live dangerously.

I'm realizing more and more that I crave the experimentation that's become such an integral part of the pleasure of baking. I like the anticipation of wondering how something's going to turn out once I've tweaked it or revised it to the hilt, be it muffins or a loaf of bread, cupcakes or cake layers, pie or cobbler, cheesecake or a tart, cookies or brownies . . .

You feel like this too? Mmm hmm, I thought so. Okay, so tell me, do you ever think maybe we've gone completely off the rails? That we're out of control? . . . No? Well good, I'm glad you feel that way, because I don't think so either.

It seems to me that most home bakers know perfectly well when it's critical to stay on the rails, but, let's face it, those rusty old rails can sometimes seem dull as dish water. (Pardon my mixed metaphors.) Sometimes one just has to acquiesce to temptation and let loose with a veritable onslaught of recipe alterations--to heck with convention! To heck with the sanctimonious, high-falutin' "science" of baking . . . (well, to a limited extent, anyway . . . somebody shut me up before I commit culinary heresy). I guess I just prefer the idea of baking and pastry as being more art than science, though I know many would disagree with that opinion. But so be it. It's a free country.

Getting down to business . . .

So, anyway, I wanted to make a loaf of fruit bread last night--something new--and in writing my recipe I had a tough time narrowing down the items I wanted to include, so I tossed in everything that sounded good to me. My main ingredient was sweet red pears, unpeeled. I grated and drained them, then I pureed them until they were the texture of applesauce. In went some dried Michigan cherries, cut in half. Along with those items I added in orange juice, for citrus zing and some additional moisture, and then I slipped in some lingonberry preserves--not too much--for oomph. The taste of lingonberry preserves reminds me of whole-cranberry sauce, only with a milder sweetness and a less astringent tanginess. I wanted just one primary spicy note to come through, so I opted for ground ginger. You could always put candied ginger in, though, if you preferred. I also wanted the bread to be substantive and kind of chewy, but not so heavy-duty-health-foodie that no one in my house would want to eat it, so I used twenty-five percent whole wheat flour, twenty-five percent oats, and fifty percent All Purpose flour.

Since breads like this seem to benefit from a night of peaceful somnolence before they have their official unveiling, I figured I'd better wait to pass judgment until the morning. The verdict? This is a substantive and tasty loaf that I'd make again. It's got a lot of flavor and I like it on its own, though you could always toast and/or butter it if you were so inclined.

Pear Bread with Dried Cherries and Ginger

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Makes one standard size loaf.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and grease (or use baking spray) a 9" x 5" loaf pan.

1 and 1/2 cups All Purpose flour (bleached or unbleached)
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
3/4 cup oats (I used quick oats)
1 and 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. salt
3/4 tsp. ground ginger

3/4 cup dried cherries, chopped, or cut in half
1 large unpeeled pear (enough to yield about 2/3 cup when it's pureed I used a red pear, but pick any kind of pear you like that's ripe and sweet)
2 large eggs
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
2 Tbsp. vegetable shortening
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup fruit preserves (I used lingonberry; use whatever sweet tangy preserves you like)
5 - 6 Tbsp. orange juice

Stir together well, in a medium-sized bowl, the two flours, the oats, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and ginger. Set aside.

Grate the unpeeled pear; drain off any dripping juice. Puree the grated pear in the small bowl of a food processor until it's the consistency of smooth applesauce. Set aside.

In a large bowl, with a spoon, mix together the sugar, eggs, shortening, and butter until combined and no large lumps are visible. Stir in the pear puree, the cherry pieces, and the orange juice.

Dump the dry ingredients into the large bowl with the wet ingredients. Stir just to combine and moisten; don't over-mix the batter.

Pour the batter into your prepared pan and smooth the top. Bake on the middle rack of your preheated oven for at least 30 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. When the top of the loaf becomes quite golden brown, cover it lightly with foil if it's not yet ready to come out of the oven; try not to let it overbrown.

Cool in the pan for 5 minutes, then finish cooling out of the pan on a rack. This bread is good warm and just baked, but also really good after the flavors have had a chance to meld after several hours.

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Recipe full disclosure! This recipe was inspired by a King Arthur Flour recipe that appeared on their site last February. Theirs was for a pear bread that calls for pureed pears, but that's pretty much where the resemblance to my recipe ends.