Like Rice On Rice

Almost everytime I read a rice pudding recipe, the author splits the entire human population into two camps: those who love rice pudding, and those who hate it.  By some masterful fate, I must have surrounded myself with only people who love it, and of course I do too.

Here, I've played on my love of rice to incorporate three forms of the wonder-grain in one dish.  Jasmine rice pudding creates a bed for forbidden rice ice cream and crispy Japanese brown rice.  To accentuate the Asian-ness of it all, rosettes of thinly sliced mango and cilantro freshen it up.

Here is my favorite rice pudding recipe.  Feel free to change out the aromatics to your taste.

100 g jasmine rice

100 g sugar

2 g     kosher salt

15 g  butter

1 qt   whole milk

1/2     vanilla bean

grated zest of 1/2 lemon

1 stick lemon grass

Everything goes into a medium pot on the stove on medium heat.  Stir occasionally until it starts to simmer.  From here on, keep it at a simmer and stir often until rice is cooked, about 20-25 minutes.  Cool on an ice bath and remove vanilla pod and lemongrass stick.  You may need to add a little more fresh milk to adjust the consistency to your liking.

Blackout!

Anyone who knows me will contest that I'm not a huge chocolate fan.  Buy me a box of chocolate, and I will invariably pass it on to my husband.  I won't however, pass on a chocolate layer cake.  Something about the soft sponge and semi-sweet filling makes it irresistible and more-ish.  Nevermind chocolate to die for; this is a cake I'd kill for!!  Although, now I don't have to worry about choco-homocide, I can just make this myself.  Opera-thin layers of devil's food stay forever moist with a rum syrup soak.  Each layer of sponge is spread with tempered chocolate, so there's a hint of crunch with each bite.  Three layers of chocolate pudding go between, then the whole thing is coated with a fudgy ganache.  A pouring of chocolate glaze allows the chocolate crumbs to stick, like a million ants to a plank.  A thin slice of this makes for an elegant plated dessert; the whole cake can sit proudly in a bakery showcase.

Rosy

A pre dessert need not be complicated.  In fact, I believe it shouldn't.  A little something chilled and crisply flavored is all you need to refresh the palate and prepare the diner for the sweeter portion of a meal.  Cucumber, strawberry and greek yogurt create the profile here, all in frozen form.  A glass plate pulled from the freezer almost mimics a decorative piece of ice.  By dragging a warm spoon across the top of a sorbet or ice cream, one can create a coil effect.  In this case, the red strawberry sorbet resembles an abstract rose.  The frost bitten look of crystallized micro anise hyssop leaves fit right at home on the plate.  Don't you feel refreshed already?!

Pretty in Peach

This was a lunch dessert we had for the last two weeks.  It's been put to bed for now, but I really like the simplicity of the plating.  It's clean, easy to eat, and showcases the star of the show -- the ice cream.  Co-starring is a moist hazelnut financier, baked in a foil cup then broken into random shards.  For this application, I prefer to bake individual financiers because the crust to interior ratio really adds necessary texture to the dish.  For a little piquancy, thin slices of pickled peach curl up and nestle among the fragments of cake.  A sprinkling of burnt hazelnut shavings add unexpected smokiness.  The globe of ice cream gets annointed with a drizzle of peach puree to reinforce the main flavor and some lemon thyme to add herbal brightness.  This is summer! 

Buttery Art

I have a new love and fascination...with buttercream.  So simple.  So magical!  This particular buttercream was made for me by my extern, who spent many years as a cake decorator.  His technique for making it was unfamiliar to me, so I was a bit skeptical.  Turns out he knew what he was doing.  He likened the texture of his buttercream to oil paint, with the silkiest shine and texture yet the strength to stand tall on its own.

I took the opportunity to work with it on a small 5" birthday cake for my cook's wife.  For the botanically minded, you may recognize my attempt at a climbing blue wisteria.  For those who are not, uh...that's my attempt at a climbing blue wisteria.  Anatomically correct or not, the whole point of the exercise was to bring whimsy, movement, and color to an ordinary cake with just an artful piping of buttercream.  I love how this medium can entirely change a cake's shape.  I also admire how it can pipe beautiful patterns and micro thin petals and still be soft and delicious to eat.