Great Pumpkin Pie & Spicy Cheese Gougeres

Pumpkin pie: it’s time for an authentic autumn treat!

This called for a classic pie crust, packed with a thin layer of gingersnap-pecan crumbs (they’ll soak up the moisture and keep the crust perfectly crispy).

Pureed pumpkin, sugar, and spices, just awaiting the addition of some eggs, milk, and cream.

I bought one of those tiny Korean pumpkins at the supermarket and cooked it at a very low simmer for about an hour. I found them to be just the perfect amount for one pie. It’s a little more work than buying puree in a can, but totally worth the effort! The pumpkin was lustrous orange, rich, and flavorful (can’t get that in a can!), and you could really taste the freshness in the pie :)

Then, a mini-disaster.

The crust protector left a very noticeable ring around the edge, and, as if that wasn’t enough, I messed it up even more while taking it off. I literally groaned. Probably very audibly. My neighbors must think I’m strange.

What could I do but cover up the booboo with pastry leaves and pumpkin seed flowers?

It was a good save ;)  Perhaps if I hadn’t mentioned it, nobody would’ve known.

With a dollop of whipped mascarpone and cream and a piece of candied ginger – now that’s pure autumn sweetness!

*****

And the gougeres.

This was actually inspired by Beth Le Manach of KIN Community (= my new favorite Youtube channel). She put together a Fall French Menu and included gougeres as appetizers. Upon watching the video, I just had to make them.

Gougeres are basically cream puff pastry, minus the sweetness and cream, plus the savory and flavor. Not surprisingly, there was a recipe for gougeres in the Pie Bible, too. I debated whether to make Beth’s recipe or the Bible’s (yes, another supermarket debate), but decided to go with the latter because the ingredients were more affordable (i.e., gruyere vs. cheddar). This recipe called for sharp cheddar cheese, ham (I used bacon), and a dash of cayenne pepper. Erm, I guess it was an American interpretation of the French delicacy…

They look like boulders to Doe!

The pie and gougeres served as dessert and appetizers for a potluck dinner (girls’ night in)! We had yummy mussels in white wine, Italy-inspired salad, baguette and chips, about five different types of drinks… It also included friendly faces I hadn’t seen in years, a surprise engagement shower, a lot of catching up and a little bit of gossip, and a Woody Allen movie. Talk about a good time :)

The gougeres were good, too. Too bad I remembered the homemade crème fraiche only after most of them had been eaten! 

(Half Post: Tiramisu and Cappuccino Chocolate Cups)

I know this is a blog about baking my way through the Pie Bible, but pies aren’t the only thing I make. I occasionally venture into other desserts, and even do some actual cooking once in awhile, though I usually keep those pictures in a separate file, just for me. But these chocolate cups were too cute to keep to myself. Thus, the not-officially-a-part-of-the-project-and-quite-paranthetical-but-still-worthy-of-sharing half-post!

Some of my friends have told me that they come to my blog to drool. Awww, shucks, that’s so sweet! Thanks guys:) But if I may make a confession, I have a site like that too: Sprinklebakes.com! I stumbled upon the site while browsing through cooking clips on youtube, and I literally stood the night up going through the entire blog. I was just so blown away by Ms. Sprinkle’s dessert (what can only be called) creations. I now regularly (= obsessively) check for updates (= opportunities to drool). Sadly, many of her “pieces” require unobtainable/expensive ingredients/equipment, and I already have a pretty demanding project going on right here. However, I was able to combine several different ideas of Ms. Sprinkle’s and sort of fit them into my own agenda…

I decided to make tiramisu chocolate cups! First, the chocolate cups. A very simple idea, really, where you dip small water balloons into melted chocolate. But everything, from blowing them up to wiping them down and dipping them neatly, was a challenge. And let me tell you, a couple of them burst and splattered chocolate all over my desk, books, wall, and who knows what else (I am apt to find stickiness in random places around my room now). I was up until the wee hours that night. Oy!

Homemade ladyfingers, dipped in (probably) the best coffee in Seoul, resting on the zabaglione + pastry cream + mascarpone + whipped cream filling. This is starting to look more promising.

Covered with more filling, dusted with some cocoa powder, swirled with a dab of cream, and finally, topped off with coffee “caviar.” The caviar, I would have to say, is a true manifestation of Ms. Sprinkle’s genius! I could not not make them once I saw the video. A certain friend, upon seeing the caviar, said I have finally crossed the line from normal obsessive to clean crazy. To that, I say -- it was totally worth it!

Et voila!

This rounded off an “Italian” dinner of chicken Marsala on spinach fettuccine. Really, it was all an elaborate way to use up the Marsala I’d bought a couple of months ago!

*****

But I had a lot of chocolate cups leftover. What could I do but make more dessert? This time, more directly from Ms. Sprinkle’s repertoire – cappuccino mousse!

Doe is intrigued.

It was less delicate, but much much simpler to make.

Doe examines the ruins of lost dessert.

But it was a semi-disaster. Even after I cooled down the mousse to something like room temperature (for maybe a summer’s day… in India), some of the chocolate cups couldn’t take the heat and pressure and just sort of… gave up. I’d originally planned to share/give these away, but faced with the unpleasant choices of either suffering from major sugar overdose or letting good dessert go to waste, I chose the latter. They ended up in the food waste bin, along with all the other gross things that usually end up in there:(

But the two that survived were coffee sweetness:) The perfect dessert for coffee lovers!

Persimmon Pie

My sister was quite the monkey when we were growing up – there wasn’t a tree she couldn’t climb. She said the secret was in her feet; she has unusually long toes, which she claims grip as well as fingers. (So weird.) The first tree she climbed was a persimmon tree, and I remember this because she picked one and it splattered on the ground. I thought it was just as well because, for all I knew, it was a gigantic poisonous pod. My dad, who came running because a neighborhood kid had wrongly reported that my sister was “suck,” told me it was a persimmon, edible and quite good, and stood awhile gaping, probably reminiscing about his own mischief-filled childhood and wondering how this Asian fruit tree had ended up in semi-urban Florida. For a long time after, however, I harbored a suspicion of persimmons, and it wasn’t until my late teens that I actually tried it for the first time (out of peer pressure and politeness, I think). The ripe bittersweet flavor wasn’t as horrible as I’d imagined it to be. Perhaps even good, objectively speaking. But for some reason, it never captured my taste buds, and I still approach the persimmon with skepticism… even to this day.

But pies must be made. Even with fruit arousing skepticism. And who knows? Maybe I might like it in dessert form, watered down with sugar, spices, and chewy chunks!

The crust was a gingersnap-walnut crumb crust. I realize that this looks like a strange gingersnaps ad. It was my first time working with the cookie and I was excited. Hehe. (Thanks again for the delivery, lil bro!)

The batter, mostly pureed Hachiya (mushy) persimmon, was very chunky and included diced Fuyu (firm) persimmons, golden raisins, walnuts, candied citrus peel, and candied ginger. What a nice medley of flavors and textures!

I couldn’t get candied ginger anywhere, so I made them myself. (David Lebovitz saves the day, once again!) The syrupy kind for the filling and the sugared ones for garnish.

It felt like autumn in my mouth :)

And it didn’t taste anything like persimmons! That may sound like a flop, but I’d call that a success. Yay! It’s recommended as an alternative to the pumpkin pie, but I’d say the only things they really have in common are the complementary spices and the color. I’d suggest this pie to people who like a variety of chewy bits in their dessert. As for me, the candied ginger garnish was the best part; I think it gave the pie the perfect pungent kick! 

Pure Rhubarb Pie

I used the rest of the rhubarb I had left to make a mini rhubarb-only pie. It was supposed to have a lattice top, but I settled for a scattering of flowers because there wasn’t enough of the mascarpone dough left. I know, I have the lamest excuses. But I think it came out quite cute! I think I might try it again with berry tarts.

It was my first time eating a pure rhubarb pie (I think), and it was interesting (= strange). The circumstances weren’t optimal to make a proper judgment; I’d baked the pie the day before so the crust was quite soggy, and the rhubarb had been frozen and defrosted… at least twice. Even so, I’d have to say that it sort of felt like I was eating a vegetable, mushy celery perhaps, and I don’t really like vegetables in my dessert. That’s what salads are for. I’d have to try a well-made pie before signing off (or on) to rhubarb. But for now, I say, strange indeed…

Deep-dish Blueberry/Cranberry Internet Pie

I realize I’ve only been making fruit pies lately. And here’s another one, the fruitiest of them all – a deep-dish pie with double (or triple?) the filling. Just look at it all ooze out! The only drawback was that I could only eat one piece!

The crust, both top and bottom, came out beautifully (= crispy). The only problem that I’m having is with the glaze. If I apply a layer, milk in this instance, the browning comes out patchy (the little flowers). If I don’t apply anything, the browning stops at a less enticing hue (around the edges). What to do? More experimentation, probably.

The filling was quite delectable! I wish I’d taken pictures of the luscious blueberries and cranberries macerating together because the pile of blue and red marbles were quite a sight. And the sheer amount that went in the pie – nearly a whole large bowl – would have astonished… and delighted.

The pie was for my former housemate, who’d recently gotten married and moved to an idyllic little city an appropriate distance from Seoul. I remember her as a perfect Stepford wife (minus the husband, of course), and I always felt a wee-bit guilty for not being very attentive around the house when we were living together. Her impeccable housekeeping skills are finally being appreciated properly, I think! She also had a very keen eye for décor and pretty things, like the dainty little pink flower-patterned dish in the first picture and the chic Villeroy & Boch wave café cup and saucer above. My mom had long coveted the latter, but never got around to buying it because it never went on sale. So when I saw it in my friend’s cabinet, I very nearly insisted on using it. (She saw the glint in my eyes and obliged before I could insist. Hehe.) And I must say, the pie and coffee tasted particularly scrumptious!

Cherry & Blueberry Turnovers with Peanut Butter Ice-Cream

Doe is very skeptical.

I used leftover pie dough (and leftover cherry filling) to make the turnovers, which is probably why they turned out looking somewhat like leftovers. It reminded me of the Korean adage, rice cakes that look better also taste better. Because these did not taste very good. Not bad. But not good either. I think it was the first time I finished pie because I was hungry… The peanut butter ice-cream was at least very good:)

Cherry Rhubarb Lattice Pie

What an enticing pie.

I’ve heard stories, from several sources, of making pie with the rhubarb that grows, almost like weeds, in backyards. In fact, backyard-rhubarb-pies seem like a deeply ingrained part of Anglo-American culinary culture and a dear childhood memory for many. But where would I get rhubarb in Korea?

Then I remembered trying, for the first and only time, rhubarb pie at Tartine, the only place with reasonably good pie in the country. This proved that rhubarb did exist here. But its scarcity also suggested difficulty, perhaps even a monopoly, in procurement. What to do, what to do? And on one sleepless night (more like morning; it was 5 a.m.) I decided to send them an email asking where they got their rhubarb and if I could maybe-possibly-perhaps get in on it too. A few weeks later, I got an answer saying that I could buy some from their shop. Wonderful!

Finding a rare ingredient in Korea arouses mixed feelings, a combination of elation… and ache. Elation at finding something thought to be unobtainable, quite like spotting washed up treasure on the beach. But also a twinge of ache because whatever makes it across the oceans has lost most traces of freshness and luster. Someday, I’ll have steady access to all the fresh ingredients I want. Or perhaps, though much less likely, I’ll start cooking Korean food.

The rhubarb is imported frozen, like many of the fruits that I use for my pies. When I thawed and drained the juices, they lost much of their structure. (Sigh.) But I saved and used the juice, instead of water, for the following procedures for extra taste-ful flavor.

I bought the cherries at the bargain bin for 50% off, way back in August. They looked fine and were so cheap, I couldn’t just pass them by. My original plan was to make brandied cherries for the Black Forest tart, but they ended up hibernating in my freezer for a couple of months.

I tried to scoop out the pits with a hair pin, as suggested, then a whole bunch of hairpins twisted together, but they were too flimsy and bent before doing any dislodging. So, I had to perform some serious caesarian-seed-sections.

The cherries and rhubarb macerating in sugar and juice!

I pulled out all the stops for this pie, I did (to some great results!). I tried baking the pie on the floor of the oven for the first time. I was so nervous about possible burning that I parked myself in front of my oven and monitored the entire baking process. (Well, I dragged my laptop to the floor and semi-watched sitcoms throughout.)

I think this was the best pie that I’ve made so far! The crust was perfectly flaky and crispy, even the bottom crust – I think I’ll be baking on the oven floor from now on. The filling was gooey and the chunks juicy, all without a hint of runniness. And everything kept their shape and color very well. It was pretty darn close to pie-perfection! The only drawback was that I could hardly taste the rhubarb for the cherries. (I’ll have to try the pure rhubarb pie pretty soon!)

And…

The inevitable finally happened. I found a strand of hair in the pie. Gasp! I knew this would happen sooner or later, it was just a matter of when. I’m just hugely relieved that it ended up in the piece that I was eating. Or has it happened before and have my friends just been too polite to mention it? Well, rest assured, the hair is, at least, very clean – I only have my hair down during pie-making when it’s wet from a recent washing. And what else do you expect from a homemade pie anyway?