Illinois

The other day, a little girl on the street showed us the bug she had caught. I coaxed Mary to take a closer look at the potato bug as Anna crinkled up her nose and told me it was a rolly polly! It's not the first time that terms and phrases from my childhood have confused others. Lighting bugs. Oh, fireflies. Hello Dollies. Oh, seven layer bars. Fritzers. Yeah, those would be farts.

Growing up, Hello Dollies or seven layer bars were a seasonal cookie, available just twice a year: the week of Christmas and the week we were in Quincy, Illinois with my grandparents.

Usually that trip required a flight to St. Louis; then a two-hour drive in our family-sized Buick rental, boasting just enough room to prevent space wars from breaking out.

You could tell we were almost there by the slowing pace of the world - the car pulling off the Highway and onto Broadway Street, the light softly setting over the Coca Cola plant, the gentle sway of the Sycamore Trees, and the sweet smiles of kids catching lighting bugs. As my Dad would point out where Sally, Marshall, Riff and Dean the Butter Bean used to live, my Mom would pass around her little pink brush. Shoes on. Brush hair. Pack stuff up.

Even in the dim light, you could see my Grandparents oak tree as soon as we turned the corner onto Forrest Avenue. Behind it was the little white house labeled 719. We would park in the driveway lined with roses and shuffle up the stairs to the front door. Butterflies, fluttering with anticipation of cookies, circled through my stomach. By the time my Dad rang the door bell, my Grandma and Grandpa were there to open it. I would have lingered over my hug and kiss longer, but I could see that platter, particularly the line of Hello Dollies from the doorway. Heaven in the form of a bite-sized layer cookie melted in my mouth.

We would take turns bragging about ourselves, giving my Grandma and Grandpa dance recital, home run, A+, and leading role proof points. Around my fourth, okay fifth Hello Dolly, my Grandpa would start to nod off or as he put it, rest his eyes. He was snoring five minutes later.

Bedtimes didn't matter on arrival night. Cookies, hugs and checking into Uncle Jim's old bedroom / corner of a hallway were the only prerogative. My sister would get the next bed over in Aunt Ann's room. Come to think of it, Erin was the only one who actually got a room. My parents and Adam always slept on the cots in the basement next to the ping pong table.

I would finally fall asleep on that first night with sweet visions of radio rolls, roast beef, Dieter's chipwiches, and Spring Lake dancing through my head. A week of fun, exclusively manufactured in Illinois, awaited.

***

There is something about where I live: the Sycamore Trees in the parks, the smell of my gas stove as I turn it on, the Fiesta Ware in my cabinets, the lighting bugs and potato bugs in my back yard, and the August air that reminds me of Quincy every summer. Maybe it's just having Illinois in common, but something about living in Chicagoland brings me a little closer to my Grandparents. And I feel like it's my responsibility to bring a little bit of Quincy to my guests, especially when they happen to be family.

Last night, Mary stayed up to see Nana and Opa arrive. She waited on the front stoop with me, eating her first Hello Dolly as a couple lighting bugs flickered around her. It was getting close to her bedtime, but it was a special night, so I let her stay up. It was worth it; worth the hellos, the hugs and the extra Hello Dolly.

Lo.

Hello Dollies

Ingredients: 
1 cup butter, melted
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 cup (plus a little more) chocolate chips
1 cup (plus a little more) butterscotch chips
1 cup sweetened coconut flakes
1 can Eagle brand condensed milk

Directions: 
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

In a 9x9 inch pan, mix together butter and graham cracker crumbs and press down to line the pan with a graham cracker crust. On top, evenly sprinkle nuts. Then layer on morsels - I do chocolate and then butterscotch. On top evenly sprinkle coconut and then top, evenly again, with sweetened milk.

Bake for 25-30 minutes or until the coconut is golden and toasted. Let cool for at least 30 minutes. It's easier to cut them and pull them out of the pan though when they are completely cooled. I cut them small, because they are so indulgent and they need to fit in little hands.

Party Girl

Well that just happened.
A giraffe moseyed on into our house.

Dozens of sandwiches were made, cut and consumed. (There were three PB&Js to spare.)

Aunt, uncles, cousins and grandparents came over.
And so did Mary's friends.  

I celebrated my foresight to carpet the basement on Friday, while noting that I need to finish baby proofing the house here and there. 

When told, the party hats went on. 

As the number one gleamed from an almond encrusted cake. 

We sang, clapped, and per Mary's shirt shouted, 'YAY!'

     

Mary had her first taste of something sweet. And I guess she's not allergic to nuts. 

    

Just about everyone was inducted into the clean plate club. And then Mary's club helped her open lots of beautiful presents. 

    

And when the last of her friends grabbed their treat bags, Mary took a big sip of milk, fussed a last loud fuss, and then passed out, sweetly dreaming that tomorrow will be as epic as today.

That was one whirlwind of a wonderful first birthday party. And I'm proud to say, that my slice of Pittsburgh tasted just right this time. As promised, here is the burnt almond torte recipe.

Happy just about first birthday, little bee.

Lo.

Burnt Almond Torte

Cake
2 1/2 cups flour, double sifted
1/2 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cups butter, softened
1 1/4 cups sugar
4 large eggs
1 cup buttermilk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter and flour two square, 9x9 inch pans.

In a medium bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, soda, and salt.

In a large bowl, cream together sugar and butter until pale and fluffy. Add eggs, milk and vanilla, blend till creamy. Add the dry ingredients in three parts, mixing until well incorporated.

Divide batter into two pans and level them. Bake for about 30 minutes. Let cool and if need be, freeze overnight.

Custard
1 teaspoon unflavored gelatin
1 tablespoon cold water
4 egg yolks
1 whole egg
3 tablespoon corn starch
2 cups milk
1/2 cup granulated sugar
pinch salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon almond
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup whipping cream
2 tablespoons powdered sugar

In a small bowl, dissolve gelatin in water. Microwave for 5-10 seconds until all the way dissolved.

Whisk together eggs, cornstarch, milk and 1/4 cup of sugar.

In a medium sauce pan, combine milk, 1/4 cup sugar, and salt. Heat until just about to boil. Start whisking the eggs again, and add about half of the milk mixture, continuing to whisk. Then take the egg / milk mixture and add back to milk on the stove, continuing to heat and whisk. Do this for about 5 -7 minutes until the cream becomes almost like pudding and starts to bubble slightly. Remove from heat, add in butter and extracts. Let cool, cover and place in refrigerator for at least 2 hours or up to overnight. When ready to assemble cake, take out of refrigerator. Whip together cream and sugar until stiff peaks form and then fold into custard.

Buttercream Icing
1 cup butter, softened
3 cups confectioner's sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1/4 cup cream

In a medium bowl, cream together butter and sugar. Mix for about 3-4 minutes until pale and fluffy. Add cream and extracts, blend for another couple minutes until spreadable. You may need to add a little more cream.

'Burnt' Almonds
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
2 cups shaved almonds

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Spread almonds all over baking sheet. In a small saucepan, melt butter. Add water and sugar. Bring to a boil and let simmer for 1-2 minutes. Toss almonds in sugar and re-spread in one layer on pan. Roast for 7-10 minutes, keeping a VERY close eye on almonds and tossing and redistributing halfway through. Remove just before they get a darker shade of tan. Let cool then break up using a spatula.

To assemble. Lay a dollop of buttercream on the cake stand. Place down first layer of cake. Spread custard all over top of first layer. There will likely be excess. Add top layer and slight press down, cleaning up excess custard that oozes out of sides. Ice with buttercream icing. Add almonds all over. Refrigerate for at least one hour. (Freezes as well.) Serve slightly cooler than room temperature.

Birthday Cake

Growing up, birthdays meant multiple trips to Prantls Bakery, a small family-owned establishment in the east end of Pittsburgh. The first trip was an early morning cupcake run so I could celebrate at school with my classmates; the next drive by was to get a couple dozen rolls for the family party, and the final stop was to get my birthday cake - the shop's signature Burnt Almond Torte - a multi-level masterpiece that became synonymous with all cake-cutting rituals.

The sweet, almond encrusted delicacy provided the curtain call at just about all of my parties: after skating to the Limbo and Hokey-Pokey at Ardmore Roller Rink, after playing on very novel devices called computers at The Factory, after skiing at Hidden Valley, dining at the original Mad Mex, and watching Star Wars, and after making the trip across a couple states in my Mom's trunk, my birthday cake always had my family and friends craving just a little slice more of custard filled heaven. Or if they were like me, picking out every stray almond left in the box.  

This past week, a corridor that marked both Peter's birthday and mine, my parents came out to visit, Mary started blowing kisses, there were presents, cards, dinners out, and champagne; but there was something missing and no amount of Fannie Mae meltaways could compensate.

So when Peggy and Jan decided to host a little joint birthday party last night, I volunteered to bring the cake and with it the Burnt Almond Torte. To my knowledge, Prantl's doesn't ship, so I started from scratch. (With a little help.)

The recipe must be a closely guarded secret because while there were articles and reviews of the cake, I couldn't find a copycat recipes. The closest I came was a blogger who called her burnt almond beauty a cake instead of a torte. So I proceeded with her instructions, creating my own wiggle room as I whisked. 

Basically, a burnt almond torte has four components: sponge cake, buttercream icing, custard, and caramelized almonds. This go around, what I'm deeming practice for Mary's birthday cake, I feel like I aced the custard, but the other parts left room for improvement. The cake could be spongier, the icing fluffier and the almonds a little less caramelized.  

So I'm not going to publish the recipe (yet.) You'll have to wait a week or so. Instead, I'll share the sweet finale to our Valentine's dinner - little chocolate covered orange peels - that almost (almost) compensated for my birthday cake craving.

Lo.

Orangettes

Ingredients: 
1 orange segmented
1 cup sugar
1 cup of water
6 ounces semi sweet chocolate, melted

Directions:
Cut orange peel into thin strips. Blanch in boiling water and set aside. (This removes the bitterness.)

In a medium sauce pan bring sugar and water to a boil. Add orange peels and let caramelize until they are just turning a little tan. Keep stirring as the mixture reduces and keep an eye on it. It can go from soupy to burnt very quickly. Remove orange peels and let cool on a wire rack.

In a double boiler, melt chocolate. Dip each orange peel in chocolate and lay on sheet of parchment paper. When all complete, refrigerate for a couple hours. Serve at room temperature.