All-American Strawberry Shortcake

When I was a kid, I thought I hated strawberry shortcake because a) I had only tried it made in those tiny angel food cake cups you buy at the grocery store, and b) because I hated how the angel food cake got spongy and dissolved into a sad pink puddle as soon as the strawberry juice touched it.

But then this happened:

Strawberry shortcake is an easy dessert to avoid, if you think you don't like it. It seems fussy, since you can't assemble it until right before it's served, and most restaurants don't bother putting it on menus because, I think, no one would choose a dessert that's really just biscuit+fruit if there's crème brulée and flourless chocolate cake on the menu.

Also, it's pretty much quintessential Southern American food... which is why I find it odd that Eleanor, a dyed-in-the-wool yankee who preferred her desserts in chocolate or cookie form, had no less than three recipes for it in the box. Maybe she was trying to fit in with her adopted home, or maybe she just needed something to do with all the strawberries that grow in Florida. After all, St. Pete is less than an hour from Plant City, the self-proclaimed strawberry capital of the world, and I can only imagine how many more strawberry farms were within driving distance in the 1960s and 70s, before the area was as gentrified as it is today.

When looking for a perfect spring dessert to serve to a mèlange of Scottish and American friends over the weekend, I gravitated immediately toward this. It's the perfect dessert for this time of year, when the trees are blooming but the weather can still turn on a dime. We're past the point of heavy brownies and cheesecakes, but not yet to summer's lemon squares and icebox pies, and this shortcake bridges the gap perfectly. A warm, cozy (American-style) biscuit, ladled with ice-cold strawberries and their sweet juices, topped with a giant cloud of whipped cream is the perfect way to celebrate springtime finally arriving. Best of all, this recipe makes single-serve versions, so the only portioning you have to do when it's time for dessert is to heap whipped cream liberally onto your own, individual biscuits.

The best part? The way the orange juice and zest in the biscuit play off the sweetness of the berries and cream. Plus, serving this at a dinner party is just about the most foolproof way to guarantee yourself a beautiful dessert ever: not everyone can frost a beautiful cake, and not every cheesecake comes out perfectly smooth, but no matter how craggy your shortcakes are, the strawberries cover them up and distract from any imperfections, and the whipped cream tops it all off perfectly.

Make these this spring. You won't regret it. (Plus, the leftover shortcakes we had make perfect breakfast biscuits with a hot cup of tea!)

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. This dessert covers everything I love in a single dish: a mix of flavours, temperatures, and a rustic-but-elegant appearance you'll love serving to your friends. I did, however, knock off a spoon because they didn't rise like I wanted them to. No doubt this is user error, but I tried really hard this time, and this is my website, so I'm taking off a spoon.

Hopefully your shortcakes rise more than these did, but rest assured: even if they don't, they'll still taste amazing.

Hopefully your shortcakes rise more than these did, but rest assured: even if they don't, they'll still taste amazing.

The recipe:

Strawberry Shortcake

the ingredients:

3 pints (1 ½ kilos) fresh strawberries, destemmed and sliced
¼ c honey
2 tsp orange juice
2 c flour
4 tbsp sugar
4 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
Zest or grated rind from 1 orange
¼ c butter
¼ c shortening
½ c sour cream (or Greek yogurt)
2 c whipping cream
2 tbsp powdered sugar
1 tbsp vanilla

 

THE DIRECTIONS:

Combine sliced berries, honey, and orange juice in a bowl.
Let sit at room temperature at least one hour, or more if your berries aren't especially ripe.
Preheat oven to 204C/400F.
Sift flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt together into a medium bowl.
Add orange rind, followed by butter and shortening, working them into mixture until it forms a coarse meal with pea-sized bits of butter.
Lightly mix in sour cream with a fork to form a soft dough. DO NOT OVERMIX.
Form dough into a ball and dump onto floured surface.
Cut into quarters, then form each quarter into a round-ish disk.
Place disks onto cookie sheet and bake until golden, approximately 12-15 minutes.
While shortcakes cook, whip the cream with powdered sugar and vanilla.

If your shortcakes rise successfully, split them in half while still warm and fill with strawberries and whipped cream, then top with other half of shortcake.
If yours, like ours, don't rise enough to split them in half, then heap strawberries on top, followed by whipped cream and serve will warm.

Yields 4 good-sized servings.

Oatmeal Cookies

A lot has happened in the past two weeks, which is why I haven't been around much. Here's a quick rundown:

  • I got a new job, and am working full-time for the first time since December. It's a good feeling, but I'm exhausted.

  • We went to Liverpool to visit my friend Andrew, then brought him back to Scotland to stay with us in Edinburgh for a few days, so we've been doing the tourist thing in our own town, hanging out and having fun on the Royal Mile.

  • I got a cold, but couldn't skip work at my brand-new job, so I've been sleeping every moment that I'm not at work.

  • Judson got a stomach bug.

  • Another friend came into town from London, Judson's boss quit, and a bunch of other smallish-things happened that have taken up most of my time and kept me away from the kitchen... and thus the computer.

I'm gonna start ending my sentences with (Lola), it's a great punctuation, don't you think?

I'm gonna start ending my sentences with (Lola), it's a great punctuation, don't you think?

But now I'm back, at least for this evening. And as I applaud myself for this new busy schedule (one of the perks of moving to a new country is that your schedule pretty much empties, so this whole “being busy” thing has become a bit of a non-issue for me), I'm reminded of the fact that Eleanor made yearly trips to visit friends and family all over the East Coast, was a member of a bowling league and a church, played weekly bingo, and had untold other “obligations,” even after she was widowed and retired... and then I feel like a bit of a loser for complaining about my two busy weeks in a row.

So, in honour of changes, being busy, and trying to capture a moment of peace when life's throwing you a lot of excitement, here's a recipe for the best oatmeal cookies I've ever eaten.

You're being so nice to put up with my lack of cookie photos on a post about cookies, that I'll throw you this bone: Eleanor (I think) on her graduation from middle school.

You're being so nice to put up with my lack of cookie photos on a post about cookies, that I'll throw you this bone: Eleanor (I think) on her graduation from middle school.

These are easy, but they require some forethought because the dough chills overnight. Now that I'm back on the 9-5 schedule, I actually find this really great: if you can remember that you need cookies two days in advance, it's a quick activity to assemble the dough one night, and then a quick job to cook them the next night. This is great because surely I can't be the only one who has ever thought that making cookies/baking cookies/washing dishes seemed like WAY too much work for a single night... but if you split it up, you're in the clear.

So busy was I, however, that I completely forgot to take any pictures of the cookies the second day... you know, after they were actually baked. So you'll have to trust me when I say that these are the perfect mix of chewy and crisp, with a great toasty flavour and a texture that's just to die for. I'm thinking it's because the oats sit in the raw dough overnight, so they soak up all the liquid from the mixture and the texture becomes less “oats sitting in sugar/butter mixture” and more of this perfectly moist but still crumbly golden crispy-chewy cookie. I'm already plotting on how to make them again and stuff them with filling, Little Debbie style.

update: 

I found a picture of the cookies! Turns out in my exhaustion, I'm actually way more productive than I thought... I just forgot to download the photos from my camera to my laptop! Enjoy!

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. These blow your average oatmeal cookie out of the water... and I have to say, I think I'd prefer this to a chocolate chip cookie any day... and if you know me, you know that's saying something. Bonus points: we somehow held onto some of these for a full week (because of the aforementioned trip to Liverpool), and they never went stale OR soggy. Any cookie that's just as good on day 7 as it is on day 1 is a winner in my book!

The recipe:

Oatmeal Cookies

THE DIRECTIONS:

Cream brown sugar, white sugar, shortening, and egg until thoroughly mixed.
Sift flour, soda, and salt together, then add to creamed mixture.
Add oats, nuts, and vanilla.
Roll into a log shape (might need to roll into two logs) and wrap tightly in wax paper or parchment.
Refrigerate overnight.
The next day, preheat oven to 176C/350F.
Slice dough as thin as you can, approximately ¼ inch thick. Dough will be crumbly, so press it back together if it falls apart too much.
Bake 9 minutes until golden-brown but still slightly sticky in the middle.

Yields approximately 30 cookies, which is why you'll notice I cut it in half from what the recipe card lists.

the ingredients:

½ c brown sugar, firmly packed
½ c sugar
½ c shortening or Stork
½ tsp salt
1 egg
¾ c flour
½ tsp baking soda
1 ½ c quick cook oats
½ tsp vanilla
¼ c walnuts, chopped smallish

 

Tasty Tuna Casserole for Two

I spent the weekend in Liverpool with Judson and a friend of mine from college, doing all the things you'd think we'd do in Liverpool... a lot of Beatles stuff and a lot of pint-drinking, mostly. While I was there, it struck me how I was walking into the very places my mom would have dreamed about visiting fifty years ago, and how the magic of that city still feels very real and not at all cheesy, the way I would have expected. I got to see Eleanor Rigby's actual grave, you guys. I didn't cry, but I totally thought about it. We danced in the Cavern Club, drank a pint at John's favourite hole-in-the-wall bar, and drove down Penny Lane on the sunniest day I've seen since we left Miami in January. (Oh, and we even stumbled into a mansion-turned-Irish-bar where we spent a couple of hours listening to two elderly British gentlemen sing Motown songs while a lot of elderly people danced along. Eleanor would have loved it.) Also, here's a weird fact: you know how the Beatles all kind of talk the same? It never occurred to me until we got there, but everyone in Liverpool sounds exactly like that. It's uncanny and a little weird to hear Paul McCartney's voice coming out of every cabbie, bartender, and child you meet, but there you have it.

Anyway, the weekend was more about Eleanor Rigby than my Eleanor, so it feels nice to get back into the swing of cooking again. Naturally, after nearly a week without cooking a single meal for ourselves, I dove right back in with a recipe for... 'tasty tuna casserole for two.'

(I know. Why do I do these things to myself? Partly because it sounded like good comfort food and partly because I tend to forget about tuna for about 364 days out of each year, then when I remember it, it's like a weird craving I can't get rid of until I have it.)

Strawberry fields forever, with Judson.

Strawberry fields forever, with Judson.

Andrew, me, and John lennon, just hanging out on Mathew street.

Andrew, me, and John lennon, just hanging out on Mathew street.

This isn't exactly light fare, though according to the newspaper clipping, it only has 331 calories per serving. We had it alone, but you could pair it with a nice rocket salad if you're ravenous. It was the perfect meal for these transitional days, where it's warm during the day and then cold as soon as the sun goes down. Plus, how often do you find a casserole for only two people? This makes an awesome dinner on a night when you're hungry and in a rush, but still want some proper homemade comfort food. Best of all, it's fast and cheap, so have at it! Next time you're stuck in traffic on your way home from a rainy day of work, make this casserole for dinner, then curl up with a book and a blanket and relax your way into a better evening.

The newspaper clipping that this recipe came from recommends serving it with a “marinated bean salad and hot coffee, for a hearty and even elegant dinner.” Unfortunately, it not being the 1970s, I didn't know what a marinated bean salad was, and drinking coffee with this seemed like a bad idea. If you try it that way, let me know, but don't hold me responsible if it's terrible.

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. It's easy, fast, relatively low-calorie, and cheap... but it's not glamorous and it's not a beautiful meal if you're having guests.

The recipe:

Cheesy Tuna Casserole

THE DIRECTIONS:

Grease the rims of two individual casseroles or ovenproof tureens.
Preheat oven to 176C/350F.
Saute onion in butter until tender but not brown.
Stir in remaining ingredients except cheese.
Bake for 20 minutes until hot through.
Sprinkle cheese onto each casserole and bake 5 minutes longer.

the ingredients:

½ c chopped onion
1 tsp butter
½ can cream of celery soup
2/3 c tuna
3 tsp lemon juice
1 c cooked rice (we used Uncle Ben's microwave rice)
Salt and pepper
1/3 c grated cheddar cheese