NUTS FOR WALNUTS

ph: andrew ingalls

We see plenty of pecan pies over the holidays but not as many walnut pies. How about one made with browned butter with a sour cream topping? This recipe for Brown Butter Walnut Pie with Sour Whipped Cream appeared in the November 2013 issue of Saveur magazine. 

Brown Butter Walnut Pie with Sour Whipped Cream

crust and filling:

single butter crust dough (see below)

flour, for dusting

13 tbsp unsalted butter

3/4 cup light brown sugar

6 large eggs

1 3/4 cups light corn syrup

1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1 1/4 tsp kosher salt

3 cups whole walnut halves, lightly toasted

topping:

1/3 cup heavy cream

2 tbsp confectioner's sugar

1 cup sour cream

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

All-Butter Single Crust

1 1/8 cups flour

1 tbsp sugar

1 tsp salt

12 tbsp unsalted butter, cubed and chilled

6 tbsp ice-cold water

1. Whisk flour, sugar, and salt in a bowl. Using a dough blender, two forks, or your fingers, cut butter into flour mixture, forming pea-sized crumbles. 
2. Add water; work dough until smooth but with visible flecks of butter. (Alternatively, pulse ingredients in a food processor.)
3. Divide dough in half and flatten into disks. Wrap disks in plastic wrap; chill 1 hour before using.

WHO ARE YOU?

“Why do you wear a mask? Were you burned by acid or something?”

“Oh no. It’s just they’re terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.”

– The Princess Bride

I've thought a lot lately about the notion of wearing masks. We all don them from time to time, some of us have a collection, each mask distinct and form-fitted for the occasion. Our guises are as varied as our clothing, chosen with a deliberate hand to leave a desired impression. The intention is not always to hide or deceive, but rather to persuade, to woo, or seduce, each persona subject to change according to situation and context.

Sometimes we veil ourselves from the world to protect the soft insides of our shell. But even the hardest veneer inevitably cracks, leaving us exposed. Like Humpty Dumpty we fall, with no one to put us back together again. Other times we mirror our environment, reflecting back the world around us. We prefer cookie-cutter conformity to individuality, afraid of the lone wolf. And then there are those that project a distorted image, hiding their true visage, and we never quite know who they are. I wonder if such camouflage is for the one in disguise, or for the audience they posture to. Do our masks seek to disguise our insecurities, or conceal our true natures? Or are they simply accessories, nothing more complicated than costume for a masquerade?

Often the reflection that stares back at us is as distorted as the unfolding, and refolding of our lives. We grow weary in our own skins, and seek to shed our identities for another. A short respite from the roles that would define to limit us. But each of us has the soul of an onion, and as we peel away the layers, we in turn peel away the labels that conceal our authentic selves. We must dig deep into the heart of darkness, and discover in the unveiling that all the pieces of ourselves exist as one, without distinction.

CRACKED, WHIPPED, AND SERVED

The following old-fashioned pie recipe is sometimes referred to as Mystery Pie or Ritz Cracker Pie. This is a crustless, airy meringue enfolded with crackers and pecans, all tucked under a smooth layer of whipped cream.

Mystery Pie (aka Hi-Ho or Ritz Cracker Pie)

3 egg whites

1/2 tsp cream of tartar

1 cup white sugar

20 buttery round crackers, crushed

3/4 cup chopped pecans

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 cup whipping cream

1/4 cup brown sugar

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Generously grease an 8-inch pie pan.
2. In a large glass or metal mixing bowl, beat egg whites and cream of tartar until foamy. Gradually add sugar, continuing to beat until whites for stiff peaks. Fold in crackers, 3/4 cup pecans, and vanilla extract. Pour mixture into pie pan.
3. Bake in preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes, until firm and lightly browned. Remove and cool.
4. In a medium bowl, combine whipping cream and brown sugar. Beat until soft peaks form. Spread over cooled pie. Refrigerate until ready to serve.

HALF-BAKED

"Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles." - Frank Lloyd Wright

Fallen stars

broken dreams litter,

Hollywood Boulevard.

Marquees flicker

immortality burnt,

on celluloid.

Folded corners

picture-perfect postcards,

collect dust.

BANOF-WHAAA?

Juliet: Banoffee pie?

Mark: No, thanks.

Juliet: Thank God. You would've broken my heart if you'd said yes.

Mark: Oh, right. Well, lucky you.

Love Actually happens to be one of those films that I never get tired of watching. Before this film I'd never even heard of banoffee pie. For some inexplicable reason I always imagined it to be some awful tasting savory pie I'd never want to try. Then this past Christmas I was invited to a dinner party and for dessert the hostess baked... you guessed it, banoffee pie. Who knew this strange sounding pie would turn out to be so deliciously decadent? The mystique of this dessert is only heightened by its variations in spelling (also banoffi, or banoffy), disagreements of origin, and multiple versions of the recipe, elevating the pie to almost cult-like status among banoffee connoisseurs.

What is it exactly? Banana and toffee pie topped with whipped cream with a sprinkling of shaved chocolate...

Banofee pie is an English dessert that "evolved" at The Hungry Monk restaurant in East Sussex by Ian Dowding and Nigel Mackenzie. The recipe was originally revealed in The Deeper Secrets of the Hungry Monk in 1974. The dish spread, becoming a British staple and in 1994 a number of supermarkets began selling it as an American pie, leading Dowding and Mackenzie to offer a £10,000 prize in the Daily Telegraph to anyone who could disprove their claim of invention. That's how serious folks are about banoffee pie. Now go see what all the fuss is about...

(recipe and photo courtesy of Deelish Dish)

Banoffee Pie

1 14-oz package digestive biscuits

8 tbsp butter, softened

1 14-oz can sweetened condensed milk

3 large bananas

1 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream

1. To caramelize the toffee, boil UNOPENED condensed milk can into a pot filled with water, bringing the water line almost to the top of the can. Boil for 3 hours, carefully watching to make sure the waterline doesn't drop by adding water to the pot (if the water gets too low or evaporates, the can will explode!). Let the can cool completely before opening, then pour into a bowl. Chill in fridge for at least an hour.
2. Process the digestive biscuits in a food processor until crumb-like. Mix crumbs with softened butter and press mixture into a 9-inch pie plate. Bake for 10 minutes.
3. Once the crust is cooled, pour toffee filling inside and spread evenly. Slice the bananas and layer on top of filling. Whip the cream and layer on top of filling and bananas. Chill in fridge. To serve, sprinkle with chocolate shavings or dust with cocoa powder.