Carnevale Pie

Something happened a few years ago. I developed a Scandinavian gene.  After decades of putting out antipasti platters, bruschetta with crostini and variations of a Caprese appetizer, my mind wanders to dark bread, open-faced sandwiches (butter, arugula, a gorgonzola slab and some sour cherry jam is an excellent choice). Maybe the decades of living in Minnesota have changed my genetic make-up and I have more in common with the Christensens and Andersens than I previously thought.

The joke here in Minnesota is, "Antarctica called. They want their weather back." We haven't had a real winter in a few years. It's back.

I also like winter. (My family now does a double-take and wonders who inhabits my body.) I've always been one for cozy winter eves, huddled under a blanket, candles lit, cats purring, books lined up and the requisite glass of wine. Nothing needs to be mowed or weeded. The outside in winter-white - stark and simple.  They call it "gezellig" in Dutch - that warm cozy feeling like a hug. Something I have practiced for decades. It's "hygge" in Danish and I guess it has become a huge thing - but it's attitude is something I've always embraced (or.... hugged?).

Part of hygge is treating yourself. (Ostensibly after you skied down a mountain for eight hours.) Well, I didn't ski down a mountain but even a short outing in the frigid air is cause for baking.

Below is a lemon-ricottta-semolina pie - Il Migliaccio in Italian. It hails from Naples so hardly Scandinavian. But perfect for Carnevale/Mardi Gras, simple enough to make and comforting to eat. The pie tastes light - it is not overwhelmingly sweet and it comforts which is the purpose of eating dessert.

There are many variations. I used the recipe from Manu's Menu and except for a few changes, the recipe's a keeper. You probably have most of the ingredients.

Ingredients
2 cups water
2 cups milk
3-1/2 tablespoons butter
peel of one lemon (I wouldn't bother next time. I'd just double the limoncello.) Or zest a lemon.
1 pinch salt
1-2/3 cups semolina
4 eggs
1-1/2 cups granulated sugar
12 ounces ricotta (drained, commercial ricotta works best in this recipe)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 tablespoon limoncello (says its optional but definitely use it or use fresh lemon juice and I'd add at least another 1/2 tablespoon)
Icing sugar to decorate (NY Times has a raspberry sauce for it which works)

1. Preheat oven to 355 degrees F. Butter a 9-inch springform pan.

2. Put the milk water, butter and lemon peel in a large saucepan. Bring to a boil. Remove lemon peel (if you zest, leave it in) and slowly add the semolina - constantly stirring. Stir for ten minutes (yeah, the arms got a work out. I wound up just constantly folding and lasted about 7 minutes and declared it good enough). Try not to get any lumps but if you do smooth it out with an immersion blender (I got a few and I blended the entire thing because I like getting batter everywhere - including in my hair). Let it cool for a few minutes.

3. Whisk the eggs with the sugar. Add the ricotta, vanilla and limoncello and whisk well.

4. Slowly add in the semolina mixture and combine well.

5. Pour mixture into prepared pan.

6. Bake for sixty minutes (starting checking around 55 minutes). The pie will be slightly wobbly (like a cheese cake but a toothpick inserted in the middle should come out clean).

7. Cool completely. Sprinkle icing (confectioner's) sugar over it. Serve at room temperature or cold.

If you need another reason to embrace, winter: sunrises.

Blossoms and Orange Olive Oil Cake

Tree blossoms. The yards are blanketed in them.

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And the rhododendrons - they are late coming to spring's party - but they are here. They're pretty fleeting. One swirl of the Minnesota winds and they scatter. But everything is fleeting, isn't it? The days I thought I would never be able to walk through my home without stepping on a lego or a miniature racing car - are gone. A blip in our history.

And now one of the culprits of my "toy-carpeted home" is in China - for his work in plant pathology.. And his partner in crime is getting ready to go to Mexico - for her work in audiology. I received an e-mail from China today:

"I tried duck blood soup because I am adventurous. It was pretty good! And I took a photo because I am my mother's son."
I saved the photo. Yeah - I saved the entire e-mail. We scatter. But we don't go as far as we think.

I could make an analogy about cake - you bake it and it's fleeting. It's true but not important. What's important is you bake it and you savor. And if you're kind you share.

And if you're smart - you'll make this - for a homecoming, for a picnic or just because it's Thursday. Which is partly why I made it. It was Thursday and the day called for cake. Husband-person was working late again and I got it in my head that he needed to come home to cake. And so he did. And a good one. Just sweet enough (because I am not saccharine - just sweet enough).

I love how olive oil cakes crust on the top and then give way to delicate, melty crumbs. Yin and yang, crunch and smooth, yesterday and today. If I add some Orange Blossom Water - I could declare this an Orange Blossom Cake!

Orange Olive Oil Cake
from the blog: Where Women Cook

Ingredients:
Nonstick spray with flour
4-5 naval oranges (or shhh ...1-1/2 cups orange juice) - 3 zested and 4-5 juiced
3-1/2 cups flour
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1-3/4 teaspoons - Kosher salt (or shhh ... table salt)
5 large eggs
3 cups granulated sugar
1-1/2 cups mild extra-virgin olive oil
confectioner's sugar for dusting (I didn't dust - I frequently don't dust)

Preparation
Position rack in middle of oven. Remove upper rack. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Coat a 12-cup Bundt pan or tube pan with spray. Really coat it! Don't be shy. This is a sticky batter.

Zest 3 oranges. Squeeze the juice of 4 oranges. If you don't have 1-1/2 cups of orange juice, juice another one. (Or shhh ... add orange juice).

Whisk the flour, baking powder and salt in a large bowl (and set aside).

In the bowl of a stand mixer (use paddle attachment) or with a handheld mixer and a la-r-g-e bowl, beat the eggs for one minute.

With mixer on, slowly pour in sugar and beat until well-combined - about 3 minutes. You should have thick, pale yellow ribbons.

On low speed, alternate adding the flour and the olive oil - starting and ending with the flour.

Pour in orange juice and zest and beat until well combined - just 10-15 seconds really.

Pour into prepared pan and cook for 1 to 1-1/4 hours - until a tester comes out almost dry - a few moist crumbs are fine. Mine took 65 minutes. If the top is browning too much, cover with a little foil. Mine did brown a lot. I didn't cover it - I like it. Transfer to a wire rack and cool for 15 minutes. Turn the pan upside down and flip and cool on rack. You can cool over night - just cover and let it sit. We ate it after 45 minutes!

Before serving dust with confectioner's sugar. Or not.

This would also be good with berries and cream. Or orange curd. Or lemon curd. Or tangerines... or - yes oranges.

Or toasted the next day for breakfast. Or dolloped with creme fraiche... it's a canvas. And it's pretty tasty on its own.

I am learning the secret of cooking with Luce. He passes out fifteen minutes after eating.

That's when you do your prep.

Or you open a window.

And let him sit.

I still don't have the secret as to how to let a pie cool without a paw indentation in it (yes - it's covered with something).  I really need kryptonite to cover my food. And that photo above is apropos of nothing. I just love those double-jointed back legs! I hope they're not fleeting.