Tart (if you don’t eat the citrus first)

I began looking for them in January.  Every trip to the market I’d cruise through the citrus section on the hunt for the smallish sunset-colored fruit.

It wasn’t until Valentines Day that I first spotted some in a high-end grocery store.  I paid a king’s ransom for half a dozen.  And then we promptly ate them.

A couple of weeks later they began to appear in the farmer’s markets.  I bought another bag.  We ate that one too.

It wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago that I finally took the time to buy (and not promptly eat) a dozen or so blood oranges and make them into a tart.

Rustic and simple, this recipe made a lovely dessert for a Sunday dinner.

If you like this you might also like these

Blood Orange Cheesecake

Salty Screw

Blood Orange Tart

Zoe Nathan for Food and Wine

Ingredients

  • 1 C all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
  • 1/4 C plus 2 TBS granulated sugar
  • 1/4 tsp baking powder
  • 1/4 tsp salt
  • 1 stick plus 1 tablespoon unsalted butter, the stick cut into 1/2-inch pieces and chilled
  • 3 TBS ice water
  • 8 to 10 blood oranges (about 5 ounces each)
  • 1 large egg yolk mixed with 2 tablespoons of water

Directions

  1. In a food processor, pulse the  flour with 2 tablespoons of the sugar and the baking powder and salt. Add the stick of cold butter and pulse several times, just until it is the size of peas. Sprinkle the dough with the ice water and pulse just until moistened crumbs form. Turn the crumbs out onto a work surface, knead once or twice and pat the pastry into a disk. Wrap the pastry in plastic and chill for 30 minutes (can be chilled overnight).
  2. On a floured work surface, roll out the pastry to an 11-inch round, about 1/4 inch thick. Transfer the pastry to a parchment paper–lined flat cookie sheet and refrigerate for 15 minutes, or until chilled.
  3. Meanwhile, peel the blood oranges, removing all of the bitter white pith. Thinly slice 2 of the oranges crosswise; remove the pits. Transfer the orange slices to a plate. Working over a sieve set over a bowl, cut in between the membranes of the remaining oranges, releasing the sections into the sieve. Remove the pits and gently shake out as much juice as possible without mashing the sections; you will need 1 cup of sections. Reserve the orange juice for another use.
  4. Arrange the orange sections on the pastry, leaving a 2-inch border all around. Sprinkle 2 tablespoons of the sugar over the oranges. Using a paring knife, thinly slice the remaining 1 tablespoon of butter over the oranges. Fold up the pastry over the oranges, leaving most of the oranges uncovered. Brush the pastry with the egg wash and sprinkle lightly with 1 tablespoon of the sugar. Arrange the orange slices on top, leaving a 1-inch border of pastry all around. Sprinkle the remaining 1 tablespoon of sugar on top. Freeze the tart until solid, at least 4 hours or preferably overnight.
  5. Preheat the oven to 375° and position a rack in the center. Place a baking sheet on the rack below to catch any drips. Bake the tart directly from the freezer for 1 hour and 15 minutes, until the fruit is bubbling and the pastry is deeply browned. Transfer the cookie sheet to a rack and let the tart cool for 30 minutes. Carefully slide the parchment paper onto the rack and let the tart cool completely.

If cupid was a bartender

All around me it seems, delicious cocktails have been popping up.  I’m sure it’s a trend.  I’m sure at some point the cool kids who decide such fads will get tired of interesting flavors and turn their fickle taste buds back to the mellower white zinfandel or tasteless Natty Lite (okay, maybe not.  But, you know what I mean).  For now, at this moment at least, it’s almost okay to order something other than a vodka and soda while standing at the bar.  Examples?  I have several.  Let’s start with the Drunken Sow at Batch in Culver City.  Three words: bacon-infused-bourbon.  Too heavy?  How about a Moscow Mule from Tin Roof Bistro in Manhattan Beach.  True, it’s an oldie, but, when was the last time a man (TD) could pull off  drinking a concoction of vodka, lime juice and ginger beer–all served in an oddly effeminite silver cup?  I say, grasp the brass ring while you can.

And then there is the Old George  at Manhattan Post in Manhattan Beach.  It’s their take on a salty dog with ruby  grapefruit juice, basil and an odd sort of raspberry peppercorn relish deal.  Two of these babies over dinner and I was inspired to come up with a cocktail of my own.  Just in time for Valentine’s Day.

This cocktail begins with the blood orange.  Blood orange syrup to be specific.  They just happen to be in season right now.  But if they aren’t where you live, you can often find blood orange syrup with the other flavored drink syrups in the grocery.

Here I’ve made my own.  Equal parts juice and sugar are brought to a simmer.

Then strained and set aside to cool completely.  Go ahead and put your vodka in the freezer about now. 

No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with this photo–I just can’t seem to get over the color of blood orange juice.  Pantone…are you listening? 

Returning to the Old George.  So, a salty dog is called so because it is a greyhound (vodka and grapefruit) served in a salt-rimmed glass.  Like with margaritas, the salt plays well with the sour of the grapefruit juice.  Blood oranges fall somewhere in between regular oranges and grapefruit on the sour-scale, so I began with a bag of superfine sugar and then slowly added fine sea salt until I had a nice balance of salty and sweet (think kettle corn).  Go ahead and rim each glass with the swalty mixture..

Next comes chilled vodka followed by our blood orange syrup.  It’s all topped with plenty of crushed–almost snow-like ice.  This part is important.  If you don’t have an ice maker that will make crushed iced for you , a similar effect can be achieved with a food processor.  Think Snoopy Sno Cone machine without the interminable hand cranking.  Or, if you happen to have a Snoopy Sno Cone machine, use that.  

 The final ingredient is just enough soda water to give the whole thing a little sparkle.

Have you guessed the name of this little cocktail yet?  I’ll give you a hint, we’ve talked about salty dogs already.  And, what do you call a cocktail with regular orange juice and vodka?  That’s right a screw driver.

And so, on this Valentine’s Day, I give you, the Salty Screw (and TD says I’m not romantic).

The Salty Screw

Syrup

  • 1 C blood orange juice
  • 1 C water

Combine sugar and juice in a medium saucepan and mix until sugar is dissolved.  Bring to a boil.  Allow to boil for a minute or two.  Take off heat, strain into a head-proof bowl and let cool.  Will save well in the fridge in a covered container.

Sugar Salt

  • 1/2 C superfine or granulated sugar
  • fine sea salt to taste.

Begin by adding in 2 TBS salt, combined and continue until reach desired balance of salty and sweet.

Cocktail

(serves 1 in generous low-ball glass) (yes, I realize the cocktail pictured in this post is not in a low ball glass. I made these babies during the SuperBowl.  The SuperBowl is really long, we needed larger cocktails).

  • 1 low ball glass
  • 1.5 oz chilled vodka
  • 2-3 oz blood orange syrup (depending on your taste)
  • Crushed ice
  • Soda water

Rim glass with sugar/salt mixture.  Combined vodka and syrup.  Top with crushed ice (fill glass to top as ice will melt quickly to start).  Top-off with soda water.  Mix.  Syrup can be drizzled on top of completed cocktail for a little fancy fancy.

 

 

My bloody (orange) valentine cheesecake

Alas, I could not resist matching up deliciously gorgeous and in-season blood oranges with Valentine’s Day.  If the name bothers you, you can do what my friend Cameron has done when attempting to get her kids to eat the blood oranges off of a tree in her yard.  Just call them rainbow oranges.  My rainbow orange valentine.  That works too.

Blood oranges remind me of the trip we took to Italy a couple of springs ago.  We spent some time in a teeny tiny little fishing village where a little pastry and coffee shop served blood orange juice in the mornings.  As soon as the server set down the sunset-colored juice on that first morning, I knew I had a new favorite color.   I’ve taken advantage of  using blood oranges at any turn ever since. So, while looking at the heaping bowl of blood oranges I brought home from the market a couple of weekends ago I thought, why not blood orange cheesecake?

This recipe is actually adapted from a recipe I found in, gasp,  Cooking Light magazine (though the original calls for normal oranges…how pedestrian!).  While this blog does not claim to ever attempt to be healthy, it’s always nice when recipe happens to naturally lean in that direction. And I this one does it well.

This recipe starts with about a dozen blood oranges that have been sectioned.  To do this, first lop-off the top and bottom of the orange so that you have a stable base.  Then, with a sharp knife, cut the peel from the orange while following its contours from top to bottom.  Make sure to remove any of the pith that might remain.

Then, I like to hold the naked orange with one hand and using a pairing knife, carefully cut between the membranes so that the two cuts come together in a V shape.  If done right, your original orange will look like this:

And your sections will look like this:

This part is a little time consuming but can be done well in advance.

Now it’s time to make a base.  The original recipe is scaled to an eight-inch spring-form pan.  Mine is nine inches.  Even with adjustments in the original, I thought the final crust was too thin so I’ve made some changes in the recipe I’ve included here.

The crust begins with  either ground graham crackers or gingersnaps.  I love the combination of ginger and orange and so ground up some of my new favorite ginger cookies.

Melted butter and a bit of sugar are added to the crumbed cookies.

And then into the pan and into the oven for a few minutes.  The strange greasy looking spots in the photo below are actually pieces of crystallized ginger.

While the crust is in the oven, it’s time to mix together what seems like an unfathomably ridiculous amount of dairy.  There is so much cream cheese and yogurt in this recipe that as soon as I opened the first envelope of reduced-fat cream cheese, Petting Zoo’s bionic cow product senors activated and she appeared out of nowhere demanding a piece of the action.  As gentle as Bella the cat is, I did have a quick moment of wondering whether I’d have to physically defend my bowl of “cream.”  Luckily, she was easily distracted by the promise of a kitty treat or two.  In addition to 24 ounces combined fat-free and reduced-fat cream cheese, I used a lowfat Greek yogurt in place of the originally called for sour cream and really liked the outcome.

Then, into the oven with just enough time for me to make a confession.  Before this post I was a virgin.  Well, a cheesecake virgin.   As in, I’d never made it.  I have no idea why not, I just never had.  Which probably explains why my beautifully spongy looking cheesecake after one-hour of baking looked like the Bride of Frankenstein at 75 minutes.  I think I went wrong at a couple of junctures.  First, I should have used a water bath.  Even without any previous cheesecake experience, I should have known better.  Second,  I should have re-oiled the sides of the pan after baking the crust.  Finally, I’m pretty sure I over-baked the poor thing.  Oh well, guess I’ll just have to keep trying.

Luckily, when it comes to cheesecake, a crack or two does not have to mean disaster.  Remember those blood oranges?  Well, we are going to make a little sauce with marmalade and then decorate the top.

You can add the orange sections in whatever pattern you’d like.  I went for a sort of spiral-rose design.

Look at that color.

Seriously–how enticing is this hue?

I was a little skeptical about what kind of texture reduced fat dairy could derive.  Turns out, it’s lovely.  And, if I hadn’t made it and been privy to the less than full-octane ingredients, I wouldn’t have had any idea.

I’m telling you, this was good stuff.  If I was my Valentine, this is what I would make for me.

(Blood) Orange-Glazed Cheesecake with Gingersnap Crust

heavily adapted from Cooking Light, October 2001

Crust:

  • 2 C gingersnap crumbs
  • 4 Tbs sugar
  • 2 Tbs unsalted butter, melted
  • Cooking spray

Filling

  • 3 (8 ounce) blocks reduced fat cream cheese, softened
  • 1 (8 ounce) block fat-free cream cheese, softened
  • 7 ounces Greek yogurt (I used 2%)
  • .25 C all-purpose flour
  • 1.5 C sugar
  • .25 C thawed orange juice concentrate
  • 2 Tbs blood orange juice
  • 2 t vanilla extract
  • 3 large eggs
  • 2 large egg whites

Topping

  • .5 C orange marmalade
  • 2 Tbs blood orange juice
  • Blood oranges, sectioned (I sectioned about a dozen to make the pattern shown here but you can mix it up however you would like)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees

For crust, combine gingersnap crumbs, sugar and butter tossing with a fork until moist.  Press into a bottom of a 9-inch springform pan coated in cooking oil.  Bake for 5 minutes.

To prepare filling, beat together cheese and yogurt in a large bowl or standing mixer at high speed until smooth.  Add the flour, sugar, orange juice and vanilla.  Add the eggs and whites one-at-a-time until combined.

Pour the cheesecake mix into prepared pan and bake for 70 minutes or until almost set.  The cheesecake is done when the center barely moves when the pan is touched.  Remove cheesecake from oven and run a knife around the outside edge.  Cool to room temp and remove sides.

To prepare the topping, combine marmalade and juice.  Spread half of the mixture over the top of the cheesecake.  Arrange oranges over cheesecake and top with remaining marmalade mixture.  Cover and chills at least eight hours.