Sweet and Salty Cream Cheese Tart by Alison Roman

Wow, the final dessert. It’s hard to wrap my head around it all. My first dessert of the project was Alison’s Cocoa Banana Bread. I chose it because it sounded familiar and safe. Obviously, Alison wouldn’t include an ordinary banana bread in her cookbook; it had plenty of flare like crystallized Demerara sugar and mascarpone. It was delicious and I felt really proud of crossing it off the list. 

33 desserts later and I’ve felt great moments of pride — like when my upside-down apricot tart held perfectly together when I flipped it onto a plate, or when my salted-butter chocolate chip cookies looked just like the picture in the book. I’ve failed too — my coconut banana pudding took multiple tries to become pudding and I was certainly too hasty about the task of cutting out circles of dough for the top of my cherry and sesame galette. I am still nowhere near any sort of expert-level baker, but I’m more confident than before. 

The cream cheese tart is as close as I’ve ever been to baking a cheesecake (which I know little to nothing about). It starts with assembling and baking the crust. Given the option of Nilla Wafers and Ritz Crackers, I went with the Ritz. My reason being that I assumed that the filling would lean more heavily on the “sweet” than the “salty,” and I was really craving a 50/50 split. 

I chose to break up the crackers by hand instead of with a food processor, but it didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped. I got the crumbs down to a small size just fine, but some of them were just a bit too big — like the size of a pea — and it was difficult to break them down further. These slightly larger crumbs didn’t absorb the melted butter as easily, which meant the crust resisted staying together in some places. If you can tolerate the task of washing your food processor bowl and blade, then take it from me — use it with gusto. (But not too much gusto; you don’t want the crackers to become a powder either.) 

As the crust baked in the oven, I prepared the filling with my food processor by blending cream cheese, Greek yogurt, and sugar. Going against instructions, I chose almond milk cream cheese instead of full-fat, and frankly didn’t notice a possible difference in richness or quality. Then I added the eggs and grapefruit juice, forgoing the pinch of salt because I was starting to catch onto the fact that the filling might already taste saltier than I anticipated. 

I poured the filling into the crust and very slowly transferred it to the oven. After my first key lime pie experience, I knew to let the “jiggle test” not completely determine when the tart is ready to leave the oven. There’s liquid in the middle. Of course it’s going to have the slightest jiggle when you rattle it. But if it just barely moves when you give the tart tin a solid tap, then it’s ready to go. I followed Alison’s advice, turned off the oven and opened the door a bit in order to cool the tart more slowly. The point is to avoid any cracks forming on the filling’s surface. I’d never heard of this technique before. I bet it works if you are in a more temperature controlled environment than a Chicago apartment kitchen in the dead of winter. Cracks showed up sure enough — especially after the first 5 minutes passed. I’m not sure how else to avoid this. 

Once my tart was fully cooled and ready to eat, I sprinkled it with a bit of flaky salt and a slice of grapefruit (really just for the pictures, to be honest). The tart sure is tasty, but more of a 60/40 salt to sugar ratio. If I make this again, I’ll definitely go for Nilla wafers, or even a mix of Ritz and Nilla in the crust. The texture of the filling was so smooth and the structure held pretty well. Overall, I was pleased with the outcome. 

Soon I’ll post a ranking of my favorite Alison desserts — the ones I’ve dreamt about since eating then.

224 recipes cooked, 1 to go.

Frozen Blackberries with Labne and Honey by Alison Roman

Frozen yogurt had its moment in the sun in the late 2000’s-early 2010’s. Everywhere I looked, a new yogurt place opened up, promising to have the best toppings and the best yogurt flavors. As a broke high school student, I confess that I would sometimes ask for a sample cup, fill it up with every flavor one by one, and then *decide* I just wasn’t interested in buying yogurt that day. (Yes, I’m ashamed.) When I did decide to shell out a few dollar bills, I would almost always get the plain flavor topped with mochi squares because they were the lightest topping by weight, and therefore the most affordable. I’m a true Dutch woman at heart. 

Just as soon as frozen yogurt started to lose popularity again, and the overly saturated yogurt shop market began to dwindle, I swiftly forgot about my love for frozen yogurt. I hadn’t given it one thought until it was time to make this recipe (my second to last dessert for the project!). By using labne or full-fat Greek yogurt (the only ingredient I could find), Alison creates a frozen yogurt much more akin to Golden Spoon than Yogurtland. My fellow Southern Californians know what I’m talking about. Golden Spoon had a creaminess and thickness much closer to ice cream. It was a true stepping stone between ice cream and frozen yogurt, and I believe it was one of the first shops to start the froyo trend. 

Alison takes it a step further in the creaminess direction by adding freshly whipped heavy cream to the yogurt, so it’s almost a yogurt-ice cream hybrid. The cream made this dessert much richer and thicker, which tasted amazing, but I would love to know what it’d be like without so much cream. Next time, I might cut the amount of cream in half and see how it goes. I also think it would have frozen much quicker with less cream. She says it takes 2 to 3 hours to set properly. I think it could have used a fourth hour, but I was honestly too impatient and dug in sooner. The edges had frozen well, but the center was still on the colder, rather than truly frozen side. Perhaps that’s what she’s aiming for, but the instructions are rather vague. 

To prepare the dessert, I started by simmering a pint of blackberries with honey until bubbling and starting to break down. This took about 12 minutes before I transferred the juicy fruit to a bowl to cool in the refrigerator. This sped up the cooling process significantly, so it only took 20 minutes for the mixture to cool. Meanwhile, I whipped the cream in my stand mixer and combined it with the yogurt and a big pinch of salt. Then, just barely, I stirred the blackberries into the creamy yogurt before pouring it in a loaf pan covered in saran wrap. Like I said, it could have used another hour to freeze, but I took it out at the 2.5 hour mark and served it up to my parents and Jordan. 

Everyone loved it and had seconds. We essentially finished off the entire loaf pan that evening with no regrets. I can’t wait to make this dessert in the summertime. It’ll be just the right thing to serve to guests on our apartment balcony. 

209 recipes cooked, 16 to go.

Coconut Banana Cream Pudding by Alison Roman

As a child, I experienced many random urges to bake something. Usually in the midst of boredom, I would get sudden hankerings to be creative and make something with my hands for other people. Which always led me to beg my mom to let me use up a box of baking mix in the pantry, think brownies or chocolate chip cookie bars. Though the instructions were rather straightforward, and little effort required, I still tended to nail the desserts only 50% of the time. (I had a shorter attention span in those days.) Every once in a while, we only had a packet of Jello pudding mix on hand, which only required mixing powder with cold milk and chilling it in the fridge. But it was enough to scratch my baking itch. 

And thus concludes my prior experience making pudding. As you can imagine, I had really no idea what I was getting into with Alison’s pudding. And yes, I made a big mistake. Hopefully my writing about it helps someone avoid the same. 

Making pudding from scratch is far different from making pudding from a box (duh). Pudding from scratch happens in multiple steps and with lots and lots of whisking by hand. The first step is to whisk egg yolks, cornstarch, and sugar together until pale and fluffy. After just three or so minutes of whisking, my arm already felt tired. Thankfully Jordan stepped in to get the egg yolks to that dull yellow color and speckled with tiny air bubbles. 

Now it’s time to simultaneously heat and continuously whisk the dairy, which is where I spent most of my time, and made my grand mistake. I poured heavy cream, sugar, coconut milk, a tiny dash of ground turmeric (for color, I think), and vanilla extract into a pot, and stirred everything slowly until it came to a light simmer. Stirring helps prevent any cream from curdling. In order to warm the egg mixture before pouring it all into the hot cream, Alison instructs us to pour half of the cream into the eggs and mix them first. We want to avoid the eggs going into shock and scrambling when they hit the heat, so we need to gradually get them warmed up. Kind of like dipping your toe in the jacuzzi to adjust, before submerging yourself all the way. Once warm, then I poured all of that creamy, eggy stuff back into the pot on the stove over medium heat. 

Now here’s where the confusion began. Here’s what the cookbook says: 

“Stir the warmed egg yolk mixture into the pot with the cream and, whisking constantly, cook until it thickens and starts to bubble up and look like something that is so hot it could hurt you if it touched your skin (it can, so be careful!!!), 3 to 5 minutes.” 

So I’m waiting for it to “thicken” and look “hot” and start to ”bubble up…” Not the most helpful visual cues to watch for, but fine, I’ll roll with it. The 3 minute mark hits. Then the 5. There’s steam coming off the top and some tiny bubbles rising to the surface. Is that what she means by hot and bubble up? I’ll let it go a minute longer…. 7 minute mark hits, and still more steam and tiny bubbles. The liquid is a bit thicker than when I started. Now, I’m well past the time limit, so I figured the pudding must be ready. I removed the pot from the heat, and per the instructions, poured the mixture into a 9x13 baking dish and stuck it into the fridge to chill “for at least one hour.”

An hour goes by, and the pudding, or should I say, slightly thickened liquid, is still warm. Another hour goes by, and the slightly thickened liquid is room temperature. A third hour goes by, and though the liquid is cold, there’s still one major problem…. It’s liquid. Wasn’t it supposed to thicken up and feel like pudding by now? I did what I always do in situations like this: I called Margaret.

Margaret, knower of most things cooking. Experienced cook, baker, and thankfully, pudding maker. I told Margaret all about my dilemma. How I followed the instructions, how I thought the pudding looked ready for chilling based on the book’s description, and how I still had a baking dish filled with cold liquid in my refrigerator. “Ah,” she said, “you just didn’t cook it long enough.” But I cooked it 2 minutes longer than what Alison said? “It always takes longer than they tell you it will.” Margaret, of all people, would know this. Then she told me what to look for beyond heat and bubbles. 

I hung up the phone, poured all of the liquid back into the pot, and turned the burner dial to medium heat. It took about 10 minutes of heat and constant stirring to get the mixture back to the temperature it was before I chilled it. At this point, I applied Margaret’s tips. It took another 13 minutes before I had a viable “pudding.”

For those of you who plan to make this pudding recipe, here are some helpful (for me, at least) details to add to Alison’s instructions. 

• Once the egg/cream mixture is poured back in the pot, it could take anywhere from 8 to 15 minutes of constant stirring to achieve the right consistency. 

• Beyond heat and bubbles, you’ll know the pudding is ready when:

  • You drag your whisk across the liquid and it creates a ribbon pattern on the surface. 

  • Your whisk meets resistance as it stirs. 

  • The pudding can coat the back of a spoon. 

  • The pudding feels mostly like pudding. It’ll thicken up a bit more as it chills, but you want to achieve most of the pudding consistency while over the stove. 

My second attempt was successful. But by that point, I didn’t have enough time to let it chill and assemble the dessert layers before going to a NYE gathering. So I left the pudding to chill for the night and assembled everything the next afternoon. 

I managed to fit four layers of: pudding, vanilla wafers (I used GF wafers found at Whole Foods), banana slices tossed in lime juice (to prevent browning), and whipped cream, in my serving bowl. I sliced all 6 bananas per the instructions, but ended up using about four and a half. I served the pudding as dessert with Alison’s Pizza Night, and the leftovers the next evening with Alison’s Ricotta-Stuffed Shells (post to come). 

Despite the hullabaloo, this dessert is delicious. And addicting. 

Pro tip: If banana flavor isn’t your favorite, just know that the longer the pudding sits in the fridge, the stronger the banana flavor becomes. I don’t mind that, but some will. Also, lime juice truly does prevent bananas from browning. Who knew?

204 recipes cooked, 21 to go.

Brown Butter-Buttermilk Cake by Alison Roman

Growing up as the daughter of a pastor, I spent the majority of my Sunday’s at church. When I wasn’t attending the service, I could be found running around the property playing hide-and-seek with my siblings and other pastors’ kids, volunteering in the nursery, or scoping out the visitor’s table where a pink box of donuts sat. Every Sunday morning, my dad picked up a box of donuts from the local shop, Donut Star, and brought them to the visitor’s table. After the final service ended and congregants had gone home, my siblings and I had first dibs on the leftover donuts. Our great reward. 

Emily always picked the apple fritters larger than her face, Scotty liked Long Johns, preferably covered with chocolate, and I had eyes for old fashioneds. Their dense cakiness with only a touch of sugary glaze are the stuff dreams are made of. Not to mention their shape – I loved to break off each petal of the flower, taking my time, before finally enjoying the inner ring. 

Why am I telling you about church donuts? Because this cake recipe is the closest thing I’ve ever made to an old-fashioned donut. Alison makes this comparison in her recipe notes and she couldn’t be more spot on. 

blurry, but you get the idea. the cake really holds its structure

This recipe alone tells me that Alison used to work at Milk Bar in New York. If you’ve ever had a Milk Bar Birthday Truffle, you know how rich, compact, (and addictive) their cakes are. This browned butter-buttermilk cake is also incredibly rich and dense. It relies on the frosting glaze to provide most of the sweetness. The cake itself is like eating a doughy version of butter. Heavenly, but also taxing on the stomach if you know what I mean. One piece of cake is all I can handle in a day. 

The baking process is rather simple, and doesn’t require a mixer. It’s a simple whisk dry ingredients, then wet ingredients, then combine them without overmixing. The wet ingredients list includes a melted and browned stick of butter, in addition to a full cup of buttermilk. The frosting also contains buttermilk and more browned butter, mixed with a cup of powdered sugar. All in all, there’s just a lot of butter. 

see what I mean??

A few quick notes about my cake. For some reason, the texture of my cake looked kind of lumpy. I noticed as I poured the batter into the cake pan that it didn’t ooze and spread like a normal batter. I had to push it out to fill the pan with a spatula. I hoped that the lumps would melt and soften in the oven, but they maintained their structure. I can’t quite tell why this happened. Did I not mix the batter enough? I thought I did? I’m not an experienced baker, so I don’t have many ideas beyond that. Regardless of the lumps, they didn’t seem to negatively affect the cake’s flavor and soft, dense texture. Also note that the frosting comes together, and hardens, very quickly, so be ready to pour it over the cake as soon as it forms. And don’t forget to sprinkle flaky sea salt over the top! 

194 recipes cooked, 31 to go.

Salted Honey Panna Cotta with Raspberries

I feel like I’m writing a minor, yet continuous confessional. As I blog about these final 40 recipes, I feel led to confess why I waited to cook them until the end. For some, it was unintentional. Others don’t spike my appetite. And others, like this panna cotta, are just plain intimidating. Or so I thought. 

I was on my drive home from work and talking to my friend Margaret on the phone about all I planned for dinner. Slow-roasted chicken, garlic bread, arugula salad, and panna cotta for dessert. Off-handedly Margaret commented, “well at least panna cotta’s really easy.” “Right, yeah, definitely,” I replied. I still spent the rest of the drive home trying to mentally gear up for the tasks ahead. 

Thankfully, Margaret was right. Panna cotta is on the easy side, it just requires patience. Step one, hydrate the gelatin packet in water. Alison tells us to sprinkle the gelatin over the water and let it soak. No mention of stirring. Given the gloopy look of things, I had the impulse to stir, but held back. Next, I combined buttermilk, honey, and heavy cream in a small pot and dumped in the clumpy gelatin mixture. Over low heat, I tried to dissolve the gelatin completely without letting the mixture rise to a simmer. This requires very frequent stirring and time. Alison doesn’t specify how long this takes, so if it helps, it took me about 20 minutes. Maybe it could have gone a tiny bit faster, but I was very conscious about not letting things simmer to avoid curdling. I didn’t feel like starting all over again. 

In the meantime, I combined the rest of the ingredients - a dash of salt, more buttermilk, more heavy cream, and sour cream. Alison instructs us to lightly whisk them together so there are no clumps, but also no air bubbles. That’s a tall order, in my opinion. Especially as the sour cream wanted nothing more than to sink to the bottom and remain its clumpy self. I found myself with a fork, digging for bits of sour cream and trying to separate them against the side of the bowl. I think I got most of the clumps out? 

Once the gelatin totally dissolved, I poured that mixture slowly into the bowl of many dairies and stirred to combine. I portioned them out in seven glasses and stuck them in the fridge. Alison says they need at least 1 hour in the cold. But I can say from experience that the longer they sat in the fridge, the firmer, and more panna-cotta like, they became. If you’re looking for an authentically firm panna cotta, without a more liquidy bottom, let them spend at least 4 hours in the fridge. I covered the ones we didn’t eat that night with saran wrap and enjoyed one even more the next day. 

Finally, the raspberries. A truly great add. I would not skip them. Crushed raspberries mixed with a bit of honey and apple cider vinegar. That tiny bit of acid and sweetness were just what the gelatin needed to really pop. I love that the panna cotta has a subtle sweetness - recipes calls for only a half cup of honey. So the raspberries really bring the sweetness home. 
189 recipes cooked, 36 to go.