Impulse baking.

Last Sunday, I felt the need to bake. I made my mom's fudge brownies, which came out pretty well. The texture was awesome (beating the egg and sugar until they are very pale and thick is the trick), but I used inferior chocolate, and it showed. Or tasted. You know what I mean.

Good chocolate: it is key.

Warm beverages I've known and loved (recently).

Hot chocolate (with melty marshmallow) at Peels.

Cappuccino at La Colombe on Lafayette.
La Colombe cappuccino, take two.

Cappuccino at my new neighborhood Joe.

Joe's adorable to-go cup.

Einspanner (double espresso with whipped cream) at Café Sabarsky.

Gift Guide Number Two: Boozy, wintry picnic.

Does anything say "wintry coziness" better than a boozy, chocolate-filled picnic? The answer, my friends, is no. No, nothing does.

When I was thinking about gift guides for this year, it occurred to me that one of my very favorite things to do in winter is enjoy a chilly-as-you-can-stand outdoor meal, one spiked by bourbon, powered by vintage plaid and fueled by chocolate and cheese. You might want to bring a baguette along as well, but, let's face it - you need to buy that locally.

And don't forget to fill the thermos with the best homemade hot chocolate in the world. You won't regret it.

Without further ado, I present part two of 2011's giftiness, complete with blanket, booze and, well, cheese.

Clockwise from top left: Vintage wool blanket ($50), Churchill flask ($25), Vintage thermos ($12), Vosges caramel marshmallows ($27), Tuthilltown's Baby Bourbon whiskey ($50), Pierre Roger cheese ($30).

Dress to impress.

You may remember some of my past odes to cream puffs. And I don't mean profiteroles - I mean cream puffs. Profiteroles, you see, don't do it for me. The ice cream makes the choux pastry shells go hard and cold, and then cold and soggy. Just...no.

But cream puffs? Filled with whipped cream, pastry cream, cheese, whatever - those, I love. I've had some delicious ones in Pennsylvania and in California, but I'd never attempted them at home. Until now. Turns out, they're the kind of dessert that will impress your guests way out of proportion to the amount of effort you need to put in.

Basically, you make a choux pastry, then bake it into little puffs. Does that sound fancy? Well, trust me: it ain't. You boil some water with some butter, mix in some flour and eggs and...well, that's it! Drop those suckers onto parchment-lined cookie sheets and bake for twenty minutes or so, and you have seriously French, seriously tasty little shells that you can fill to your heart's content.

To keep things simple, I filled mine with a mixture of whipped cream and mascarpone cheese. The cheese adds heft and complexity, but is way easier to deal with than pastry cream (one requires opening a package; the other is, well, pastry cream). You can do whatever you like, though - even fill them with ice cream, if you so choose. (Different strokes for different folks, right?)

I topped mine with hot fudge for a festive touch; you can also dust them with confectioner's sugar for a perfectly decadent breakfast or afternoon tea. Pastry puffs: the chameleons of the dessert world, am I right?

Cream Puffs with Chocolate Sauce
Choux pastry recipe adapted from Mastering The Art of French Cooking

For the pastry puffs
1 cup water
6 tbs. unsalted butter
3/4 cup flour
1 tsp. granulated sugar
5 eggs, one beaten with 1/2 tsp. water

For the filling
3/4 cup mascarpone cheese
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 tbs. granulated sugar

For the chocolate sauce
6 oz. semi-sweet chocolate
1/4 cup heavy cream
2 tbs. turbinado sugar

Make the pastry puffs:
Move the oven racks to the bottom and top thirds of the oven. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit.

Place the water, butter and sugar in a 1 1/2 or 2 quart sauce pan and bring to a boil. Continue to boil until the butter melts. Remove from the heat and immediately add all the flour. Beat vigorously with a wooden spoon to blend. Replace the pot over medium high heat for a minute or two, beating with the spoon all the while, until the dough begins to come away from the sides and the bottom of the pan is coated with a film of flour.

Remove from the heat and make a well in the middle of the dough. Add one egg at a time, beating thoroughly with the spoon until well-mixed. Continue with the remaining eggs, one by one. Once all the eggs have been added, mix for another minute more, until smooth.

Line two cookie sheets or jelly roll pans with parchment paper. Drop 2-inch diameter rounds of dough onto the pans, leaving about two inches between them. Wet your fingers and shape the rounds into even shapes, if need be. Brush with the tops with just a bit of the egg and water mixture.

Place in the pre-heated oven and bake for 15-20 minutes until puffed, firm and golden brown, switching the pans positions' halfway through. Remove from the oven, steel yourself, then cut a slit in the side of each puff with a sharp knife. Replace on the pans and place back in the (now turned-off) oven for ten more minutes. Remove to a rack to cool completely.

Make the filling:
In a medium bowl, beat the cream and half the sugar until it forms stiff peaks. In a separate, larger bowl, beat the mascarpone and half the sugar until it is lighter and somehwat fluffy. Fold the cream into the mascarpone and mix gently until evenly blended.

Make the chocolate sauce:
In a double boiler set over low heat, melt the chocolate, cream and sugar together. Stir occasionally with a wooden spoon. When the sauce is evenly melted and smooth, remove from the heat.

To assemble the cream puffs:
Slice a puff 2/3 of the way around - it should look like a Muppet with a mouth that opens and closes. Fill with as much of the filling as you can. Place two or three filled puffs on a plate, then top with the warm chocolate sauce. Serve immediately.

Serves four.

Gooey goodness.

There are few things in this world that I love more than s'mores. While my urban lifestyle means I typically only enjoy them when I roast marshmallows over my gas stove, I still can't get enough. I've always loved everything related to marshmallows, and that includes the slightly disgusting, sublimely wonderful processed food product known as Marshmallow Fluff.

Fluff is the sort of processed, pure junk food that never graced the shelves of my mother's house; I first experienced its wonders at a babysitter's home, where we were fed fluffernutter sandwiches. I recall these as being transcendent; I'm still trying to get my hands of Momofuku Milk Bar's croissant version.

When I recently ran across Crepes of Wrath's recipe for s'mores cookie bars, I knew I had to give them a go. S'mores? In transportable, cookie-esque form? Could such perfection actually exist? Yes, in fact, and mostly thanks to the miracle of Fluff. Fluff has less gelatin than fully-grown marshmallows, so it never hardens, even when cooked. That's how these bars retain their gooeyness all the way through the baking process. Genius!

The original recipe called for milk chocolate, but between the brown sugar in the cookie crust and the sweetness of the fluff, I decided semi-sweet chocolate would be a better bet for me and my fellow eaters. (My long-time testers Jeremy and Miriam, along with our friends Ken and Celeste.) I also upped the graham cracker content by 1/4 cup, to make sure the flavor of the crackers came shining through.

Whatever you do, make sure to enjoy these with a glass of milk and a couple of napkins at the ready.

S'mores Cookie Bars

Adapted from Crepes of Wrath

9 graham crackers

1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature

1/4 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 egg, room temperature
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour

1 tsp. baking powder

1/4 tsp. salt
8 oz. semi-sweet chocolate, roughly chopped
1 1/2 cups Marshmallow Fluff

Break the graham crackers into large pieces and place them in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the blade attachment. Pulse several times until the crackers have become a relatively fine, even crumb.

Meanwhile, pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease an 8x8 baking dish and line with parchment paper.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar together until light, at least 3 to 5 minutes. Beat in the egg and the vanilla.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the graham cracker crumbs, flour, baking powder and salt. With the mixer on low, gradually add the dry flour mixture in, continuing until the dough is evenly mixed, but only just. Don't over-mix, or it will get tough.

Press half the dough into the bottom of the pan, covering the surface area evenly, all the way to the edges. Spread the fluff on top of that, then evenly spinkle the chocolate on top of the fluff. Cover with the remainder of the dough, spreading it as evenly as possible across the top. (Your hands may work better than a spatula here.)

Bake the bars for 25-35 minutes, until the top is a deep golden brown. Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely before slicing and serving. The bars keep well for up to two days, so long as you cover the pan tightly and store at room temperature. (Slice them only just before serving.)

Makes 15 bars.

Better together.

Salty and sweet, that is. There's little I like more than a dish that combines salt with sugar, and Shack Shack's salted peanut butter hot chocolate is no exception. It's deeply chocolatey, and instead of just adding extra richness, the peanut butter actually cuts through the sweetness with its salty edge.

There's not much more to say, other than that the beverage, which comes in one perfect size, is available at all Shake Shack locations around the city. You're bound to be near one sooner rather than later, right?

Right.

Hot chocolate...with booze. (Mais oui!)

Hello, doves! I'm over at You + ME* Equals today, where I've shared my recipe for delightfully boozy, sinfully indulgent hot chocolate. Check it out, wouldja? I'll be back here tomorrow with a similarly celebratory potato galette recipe for you lovely people.

Smooches!

240 boxes full of pudding.

OK, not really. In fact, no boxes of pudding were harmed in the making of this particular dessert. But every time I think of pudding, I'm reminded of that so-funny-it-hurts sketch from The State, where Barry and Levon got, um, familiar with a serious amount of pudding. Watch it, if you like, then read on.

So, back to the pudding. The chocolate pudding you see above is a leftover cook's treat type of deal. I made this (delicious) chocolate cream pie to bring to dinner at my brother and sister-in-law's place a couple of Sundays ago, and there was just enough pudding left over to make a nice dessert for me on Monday night.

The pudding is intensely chocolatey. It bears little to no resemblance to a Jell-O pudding cup, and that's a damn good thing. You melt and blend both bittersweet and unsweetened chocolate into a homemade pudding, then add a touch of vanilla to round things out, and some butter to make them nice and smooth. It's so chocolatey, in fact, that you really do need the sweetened whipped cream to cut through the richness.

Not like I've ever needed an excuse to eat plenty of sweetened whipped cream.

Dark Chocolate Pudding
Adapted from Gourmet

5 oz. fine-quality bittersweet chocolate, chopped
4 oz. unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup cornstarch
3/4 tsp. salt
6 large egg yolks
4 1/2 cups milk
3 tbs. unsalted butter, cut into bits and softened
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla
Sweetened whipped cream, for serving

Add the chocolates to the top of a double boiler (or just a metal bowl set over simmering water). Melt chocolates together, stirring, until smooth. Remove the bowl from heat and set aside on a trivet or pile of dishtowels to cool.

Next, in a heavy saucepan (about 3 quarts) whisk together sugar, cornstarch, salt, and egg yolks until combined well and add milk in a stream, whisking. Cook mixture slowly over moderate heat, whisking constantly.

The custard will thicken gradually, and eventually will begin to boil (You'll see bubbles pop on the surface.). Continue to whisk, keeping the mixture smooth as it thickens to a near pudding-like texture. This can take several minutes; be patient. Don't turn the heat up too high, as the custard can scald.

Once your custard is pudding-like, remove it from the heat and force it through a fine mesh sieve into a bowl. Whisk in the cooled chocolate, butter, and vanilla until smooth. Cover surface of the pudding with plastic wrap and cool completely in the refrigerator.

When ready to serve, spoon the pudding into small bowls and top - generously - with whipped cream.

Serves 6-8.

Guest Blogger: Ana of Rearranged Design makes banana-chocolate-coconut ice cream!

Hello all! My name is Ana and normally you can find me over at Rearranged Design. I'll be guest posting for Meg today while she's visiting my adopted home state of California.

I am going to share my recipe for homemade Banana-Chocolate-Coconut Ice cream. It's a favorite around my house and easy to make.

I use a KitchenAid Ice Cream Maker attachment. If you have your own ice cream maker I don't see why the recipe wouldn't work with that. If you have a KitchenAid mixer and don't have the attachment, get it! I love mine and once you see how few ingredients are actually in ice cream you'll wonder why you don't already own one.

So, here goes. You will need:

2 1/2 cups Half and Half
8 Egg Yolks
1 cup sugar
2 1/2 cups Whipping Cream
1/8 tsp Salt
4 tsp of Vanilla (I always add a glug more just to give it a real strong flavor)
1 Banana
1 cup Shredded Toasted Coconut
1 Large Chocolate Bar (This is up to you, if you like you can use chocolate chips or a King Size Bar. It's up to how much chocolate you like)

In a medium saucepan over medium heat, heat half-and-half until very hot but not boiling, stirring often. Remove from heat; set aside.

Place egg yolks and sugar in mixer bowl. Attach wire whip to mixer. Turn to speed 2, and mix about 30 seconds, or until well blended and slightly thickened.

Continuing on speed 2, very gradually add half-and-half; mix until blended.

Return half-and-half mixture to medium saucepan; cook over medium heat until small bubbles form around edge and mixture is steamy, stirring constantly. Do not boil.

Transfer half-and-half mixture into large bowl; stir in whipping cream, vanilla, and salt. Cover and chill thoroughly, at least 8 hours (otherwise the ice cream will have ice crystals in it). Just a side note: if you’re not making your own vanilla already it’s SO easy. Add Vodka to a couple of vanilla beans and store in a dark place in a week or so you’ve got homemade vanilla!

Assemble ice cream maker attachments. Pour mixture into freeze bowl. Continue on Stir for 15 to 20 minutes or until desired consistency.

While the ice cream is churning toast the coconut on a backing sheet until it’s golden in color. Chop the chocolate into chunks (I used 2.5 regular sized Hershey bars) and cut up the banana.

At the 20-minute mark add the coconut, banana and chocolate. At this point my ice cream is usually the consistency of soft serve. You can eat it or put it in an airtight container and freeze to desired consistency. It makes about 7 cups/1.75 quarts.

I hope you love it as much as I do! Thanks to Meg for letting me share!

Cooooookie!

On Saturday, after dropping off a few bridesmaid's dresses near Gramercy Park (for a good cause), I walked across Gramercy and over to Chelsea to buy some organizational aids at The Container Store. Along the way, I realized I was hungry and decided to stop into the eminently convenient and delicious City Bakery.

The last time I blogged about City Bakery, it was all about their tasty brunch and ridiculous hot chocolate (complete with homemade marshmallows, of course). Since it wasn't too chilly out and I'd already eaten an early lunch, three o'clock seemed just the time for a chocolate chip cookie.

Oh my god, the cookie. City Bakery's chocolate chip cookie is a perfect blend of the crunchy and the chewy - it alternates between the two textures, chewy where it's a bit thicker, and crunchy in the little cookie cracks and along the edges. The chocolate is melty, smooth and rich, and the whole thing is just the right size for a satisfying snack.

And does it photograph beautifully, or what? Drool.

City Bakery
3 West 18th Street (Between 5th and 6th Avenues)
212.366.1414

Rich, gooey goodness - from a truck.

Last weekend, I was walking home from the subway when I passed the Street Sweets truck. I'd been fancying a bit of something sweet, maybe chocolate, and I spied a few fudgey brownies in the display case. I queued up behind a woman who spent a not inconsiderable amount of time choosing an Easter bunny, and then it was my turn.

Service at the truck was great, and I was especially impressed when they asked whether I wanted a brownie from the corner, middle or edge of the pan. Preferring a high fudge-to-crumble ratio, I of course asked for a middle piece. The crew placed my brownie in a little paper bag sealed with an adorable, giant sticker, and I set off home to enjoy my booty.

The brownie was delicious. In fact, I'd venture to say that it was almost as good as the brownies my mother makes, and that's high praise indeed. It was dark and rich, full of good chocolate flavor. The crust on top was minimally crumbly, and there were no nuts to get in the way of the chocolate. (Those of you who like nuts in your brownies? You're just...wrong. Sorry to be the one to break it to you. Kisses!)

I'd definitely go back - and I wouldn't mind trying one of the filled brioches, either. No, sirree.

Street Sweets
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Queenie's Treasury

Happy Saturday, folks! It's a stunning morning here in New York, and I'm getting ready to go get pretty at the salon this afternoon. I'm sure most East Coasters, at least, are out and about today (I'm hearing good things about the weather out west, too) - but, just in case you're not, here are some fun treasury items to psych you up!
First, what seem to be the ultimate answer to (the pure, unadulterated nastiness that is) the Cadbury Creme Egg. Vosges has created a series of Easter eggs, the most intriguing of which (to me, at least) are the Wink of the Rabbit (caramel, pecans and dark milk chocolate) and the Bacon and Eggs (bacon caramel and dark chocolate). These will definitely be making an appearance in my Easter basket. Swoon.

Next, a recipe for Dijon chicken from Kerry Saretsky's French in a Flash series over on Serious Eats. This looks like a delicious, easy one-pot meal, and I predict that I will make it for lunch sometime soon. Mustard and wine and thyme - what could be better?

Finally, some ridiculously delicious looking apple dumplings. These look absolutely insane. I must have them. Now. Immediately. Many thanks to Design*Sponge and their contributor, food photographer Stacy Newgent, for making my day.

Austria,minus the plane ticket.

On Sunday, I treated myself to an I Love NYC kind of afternoon: early lunch at Café Sabarsky, a visit to the Cooper-Hewitt, a walk across Central Park, and a cappuccino at Joe. Let's begin at the beginning, shall we?

Café Sabarsky is part of Kurt Gutenbrunner's ever-growing empire of Austrian food. His other outposts include Blaue Gans and Wallsé. While Blaue Gans is a rustic, tavern sort of place, and Wallsé is all refined cool, Café Sabarsky is Gutenbrunner's tribute to fin de siècle Viennese café culture. Located in the Neue Galerie, the café's menu features an impressive assortment of Viennese pastry, delicious coffee and a bowl of spaetzle with tarragon.

For me, Café Sabarsky is typically all about two things: the Einspanner (double espresso with whipped cream) and the decor (reproductions of classic Austrian designs in a Gilded Age mansion's paneled parlor). This time, though, I branched out.

First up, a double espresso; more specifically, a Grosser Brauner, which is served with a teeny bit of milk on the side. As usual, it was delicious. I seriously wish I could stop here every morning for coffee. Rarely have I found more perfect coffee on this side of the Atlantic.

Once I'd caffeinated, I switched to water and ordered the wiener schnitzel. It arrived a few minutes later, piping hot, topped with lemon and accompanied by potato salad and lingonberries. I have to say, I was a bit underwhelmed by the schnitzel itself. The veal was tender and flavorful, but the breading was completely separated from the meat in most spots. The potato salad was tasty and creamy, and the lingonberries were tart and offered a lovely contrast, but all in all, I think I'll stick to the spaetzle from now on.

For dessert, I skipped the pastry (I do recommend the apfelstreudel, though.) and went for a Viennese hot chocolate. While it was a bit thinner than the Pierre Hermé version I make at home, it was deeply chocolatey and came topped with a generous amount of freshly whipped cream - both qualities I can get behind with little trouble.

Brrrrr!

It's freaking freezing in New York this week, and what better excuse for copious amounts of hot chocolate and cozy couch time than frigid weather?

In that spirit, I direct your attention to this vintage Queenie post, which contains the best recipe for hot chocolate I've found yet. It comes to us courtesy of pastry genius Pierre Hermé, and is the closest thing to Prague hot chocolate around. (That's high praise, as far as I'm concerned.)

Enjoy, and stay warm!

Sunday night at Alinea: pure imagination.

When you arrive at Alinea, the first clue that you're about to experience something totally out of the ordinary appears pretty quickly. The entry hall, which runs the depth of the small Lincoln Park townhouse, is a Wonka-like construction, becoming drastically narrower and shorter as it progresses, ushering you into Grant Achatz's world-famous culinary funhouse/wonderland.

The real fun, however, starts once you're up the stairs and settled into the spare, dark dining room. (Very dark, so I apologize for the grainy quality of the photos!) Alinea serves two tasting menus: a 13-course and a 24-course. Our reservation was for the 13-course meal, and we started off with a bang.

Our first course was Osetra caviar, served with all of the traditional accompaniments - sort of. The caviar and crème fraiche were their usual selves, but the red onions came in jelly form, while the buttered brioche appeared as a foam. The foam was incredible - I felt like the Wonka theme was continuing, and the foam was Violet's gum. Even though the foam was light as air and vanished in my mouth, it was so well-flavored that I felt like I'd eaten a piece of toast.

The next course was a big hit with everyone at the table. Pork belly confit served between two lightly warmed leaves of iceberg lettuce, accompanied by cucumber (Yum!) and a Thai basil seed vinaigrette. I thought this was awesome, but it wasn't my favorite dish of the night - that was still to come!

Next up was a symphony of mushroom goodness - one ingredient, matsutake mushrooms, prepared in several different ways. Creamy tiles, ice cream, a sort of crumbly pastry, and one fresh specimen, dead center. Mango sauce made an appearance, as did a delicious morsel of otoro. This was delicious, and a really great example of chef Grant Achatz's ability to make you think differently about an ingredient by playing with it in an assortment of ways.

According to our server, Chef Achatz likes to include one traditional dish in each menu, in order to remind us of where we've come from, and of the fact that though he may play with foams and gases and burning leaves (Just wait!), he's a classicist at heart. Achatz likes to challenge and delight you, but never fails to create something delicious. He doesn't sacrifice flavor at the altar of surprise.

The evening we dined, the traditional dish was Escoffier's trout monseigneur, a tour of the fish featuring roe, poached trout, and trout mousse. I could recognize the beauty of the techniques at work here, but am by and large not a fan of trout. Others at the table who are, though, reassured me that they loved the dish.

After the trout, we enjoyed my very favorite dish of the evening. A series of oak branches, their dry leaves still attached, arrived at the table. The leaves were smoldering, scattering tiny bits of ash around the dining room. Speared on the bottom of each branch was a fritter filled with roast pheasant, cider jelly and shallot confit. I picked up the branch, inhaled the unmistakable scent of burning leaves, and ate the fritter in one bite. All of my senses were flooded with the taste, smell and sight of autumn. The crunchy tempura batter didn't overwhelm the filling at all - the whole thing was a bundle of perfect flavor. I. Loved. This.

After the pheasant, I could have died happy - but there were still nine courses left to go! Our next dish was another single-bite course. Like the truffle at Tru, this ravioli, filled with black truffle, romaine lettuce and parmesan, exploded in the mouth. As I've said before: no matter how prepared you are (we received another "lips together, teeth apart" warning), food bursting in your mouth is never something you expect. It's awesome. I would love to serve something that explodes at my next dinner party. It makes you giggle. I like to giggle.

When we first sat down at the table, our servers had set a sprig of rosemary at each place. Our next course was a series of lamb loin medallions served on a sizzling strip of iron. The rosemary branches were placed in holes at the far end of the hot metal, and soon the air around our table was perfumed with rosemary. This scent was as much a part of the dish as the three different garnishes on the lamb. From front to back, they were pickled quince, pumpkin, and smoked eggplant. My favorite, somewhat predictably, was the quince, which I'd wisely saved for last.

Our last savory dish was a home run - like the mushroom bonanza, this duck presentation was a tour of preparations. We had foie gras, magret, and what I think was kidney. Along with a few, peppery brussels sprouts leaves, this was served with an orange broth and mace-scented foam. Mace! I never think to use mace (a spice made from the coating of nutmeg seeds), but I love it, and hereby resolve to use it as often as possible.

Peanut butter was chosen to usher us into the sweet courses. In this case, the peanut butter was dried to a powder and spiced with chiles. Placed on the tongue, it first crumbled, then reformed into that signature stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth texture. Too cool, and so delicious. Josh has decided that all peanut butter should be spicy.

I seem to be missing photos of the next two courses, both of which were small bites. The first featured another exploding sphere! A grape-like ball sat atop a small glass, and we were instructed to take all elements into our mouths at once. The ball burst instantly and, it turned out, was flavored with Concord grapes and filled with a watery juice that tasted lightly of Maytag blue cheese and walnuts.

The next course, a one-bite combination of ice-cold Thai banana, beer, mustard and pecans, was delicious, even for those at the table who don't typically love bananas.

The third sweet course was fun in a completely different way. Before the plates arrived at the table, servers placed a linen pillow in front of each of us. The pillows were filled with nutmeg-scented steam, which was released little by little as the weight of our plates, placed on top, gradually pushed downward to the table. On the plate was a delicious combination of coffee and huckleberries, topped by spun burnt sugar.

The chocolate course was a big one, featuring chocolate frozen with liquid nitrogen, applewood bacon (bacon and chocolate are an excellent combination of salty and sweet) and, surprisingly, a crabapple juice. The juice was contained in that little sphere in the middle of the plate. Like an egg yolk, all you had to do was prick it to spread its goodness throughout the dish.

The staff heard us talking about Louisa's birthday, and brought her a little treat to celebrate. This is Alinea's version of birthday cake. The chocolate cake came ensconced in a little ball of tempered chocolate and was revealed by a stream of hot pastry cream poured by our waiter.

Finally, it was time for one last science lab touch. This being Alinea, this test tube filled with hibiscus jelly, crème fraiche and bubble gum-flavored tapioca, and stopped with a disk of long pepper jelly, was not only cool as hell - it tasted great, like the best bubble gum ever. It was also tons of fun to eat. You had to suck on it like a straw to pull all the goodness out of the test tube and into your mouth.

If the rest of the meal hadn't yet turned us into excited little kids, this would have done the trick pretty damn nicely. As I left, this was all I could think of:



Alinea
1723 North Halsted (at Willow)
Chicago, Illinois
312.867.0110‎

Queenie's Treasury

Hello from New York, my darlings! It's been a crazy couple of weeks, and with Thanksgiving fast approaching, it doesn't look like things will be calming down any time soon. I hope all of you are relaxing today before jumping into preparations for what I'm sure will be magnificent holiday feasts. (Or, if you are not American, just plain relaxing!)

The first item in this week's Treasury is some fashion-inspired brainstorming from Coco & Kelley. Her Thanksgiving table will take its cue from current trends in the fashion world, including the use of rich navies, refreshing grays and tulle, tulle, tulle! A nice break from the traditional orange and red, don't you think?

Next up, in preparation for the holiday baking season, Serious Eats brings us a look at the best (and worst) apples for baking. My personal favorite - Gala - comes out on top. I can personally confirm that an apple pie made with Gala apples (and by yours truly) was a massive hit at my office potluck this week. Trade in your Granny Smiths, but don't forget to compensate by using a bit less sugar in your filling.

And, finally, just because it looks insanely delicious, I bring you this recipe for churros and spiced chocolate bisque (Can anyone say Prague hot chocolate?) from Cannellé et Vanille. Don't you just want to dive right in? Well, make sure there's room, because I think you're probably not alone.