Chocolate Soda

Remember last week when I made chocolate banana milkshakes and tried to claim that Eleanor must have saved the recipe (which was included in a Quik advert) so that she could make the shakes with her grandchildren? Yeah, I was wrong.

Upon further inspection, I realised that the second recipe included in the pamphlet is, in fact, basically an egg cream.* ('Ah, an egg cream!' says everyone over the age of 50. 'what the hell is an egg cream?' says everyone else).

An egg cream, as I learned the only time I ever visited Queens, is a drink containing neither eggs nor cream and sold mainly at soda fountains, mainly in Brooklyn, mainly in the mid-twentieth century. When I was in New York a few years ago, I met up with a friend in Queens and he took me to an adorable coffee-shop-cum-soda-fountain, and I knew I had to get an egg cream because it was the only drink on the menu I hadn't heard of. Honestly, it was a little disappointing. Kind of water-y and strange (because you never expect milk to be fizzy), and somehow not super flavourful. I didn't blame the restaurant: I just figured egg creams weren't for me.

But then I remembered that they involved milk and soda water, and I thought I'd better look them up again before I made any big-time declarations about how Quik had invented this weird drink. Sure enough, this recipe is just an egg cream with a scoop of ice cream, and now I'm pretty sure Eleanor actually saved that silly Quik advert so she could make herself an egg cream anytime she wanted it (she was, after all, a Brooklyn native who lived there throughout the heyday of the egg cream in the 1930s, 40s, and 50s).

Now, before you're turned off because the phrase 'egg cream' sounds like a thick, custardy drink, know this: the great thing about egg creams is that they're really light-- perfect for summer. I daresay you could even drink one of these on the beach without worrying about going into an ice cream coma.

As for the recipe: If you happen to be the one person in one thousand who owns a set of parfait glasses, now is definitely the time to use them. Pop one of those suckers in the freezer, find yourself a pretty straw, and go to town. Allegedly, when egg creams were invented, you could get a chocolate or a vanilla one-- but I have no idea what the vanilla one had in it to make it vanilla. Just the ice cream, maybe? Or some kind of vanilla syrup reduction (yes, please!), but either way I think this is a question that demands more research... if only I could find a bottle of Quik.

*Here's a fun egg cream fact: when I looked them up to find out the recipe, I learned that no one actually knows why they are called egg creams (seeing as how they contain neither of those ingredients). Explanations vary from 'maybe they used to be made with all those ingredients?' to 'maybe they were (inexplicably) named in French as chocolat et crème, and Americans misheard it?' I'm unsatisfied by both of those explanations, but I do like the idea that even back in the 1800s, naming something in French immediately made it more desirable.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. This is a surprisingly refreshing take on the milkshake-- one that doesn't require me to get out my food processor, UK power converter, and all the accoutrements that go along with it. Plus, it's less filling and won't leave you feeling like a beached whale after you drink one. Make one tonight and then phone up your favourite honey for a date to the sock hop-- you're practically re-inventing the 1950s after all.

The recipe:

Chocolate Soda

the directions:

In tall glass, combine milk and chocolate syrup, stirring briskly until blended.
Add club soda, pouring gently.
Top with a scoop of ice cream and enjoy!

Yields 1 generous soda.

The ingredients:

¾ c milk (I recommend semi-skimmed/2%)
3 tbsp chocolate syrup or more to taste
½ c club soda
1 scoop ice cream

Under the Wire Cheesecake, or, Quick and Easy Cheesecake

I'm tired of cheesecake. It's never been, like, my favourite dessert (looking at you, chocolate cake with vanilla frosting), but I've always been pretty ok with it. Making one a month is a bit much, though. Especially when they're all plain.

But here we are in June, and it's time for the next installment of The Cheesecake Saga. As I've explained in previous entries, there is nothing that says 'friendship' to me quite like cheesecake. Maybe it's the influence of The Golden Girls, maybe it's the fact that you couldn't eat a whole one by yourself unless you're going through a terrible breakup, and even then it would probably take you a few sittings... maybe it's just the successful marketing campaigns of casual dining chain restaurants like Olive Garden and Red Lobster (which were, unashamedly, my favourite two places to eat as a small child), but regardless of what causes it, cheesecake to me sings of girlfriends, sleepovers, late night chats and long laughs over silly memories and ridiculous stories.

So when I realised it's the last day of the month and I still haven't made my June cheesecake, it was pretty appropriate that I just parted ways with my best friend of the last ten years, Emily. Emily and her fiance were in the UK for work-related reasons, so of course we made some time for fun-related things and explored the Scottish Highlands all weekend together. We stayed in a castle, ate cullen skink and full Scottish breakfasts, drank a lot of whisky and coffee, and explored a lot. But most of all, I got to spend three amazing days with my best friend, less than a month before her wedding. She's on her way back to the US now, so I won't get to share this cheesecake with her, but if she was here, we'd make a gluten-free version, pour ourselves another cup of coffee, and tease each other mercilessly over all the stupid things we've done, stupid boys we've loved, and stupid ideas we've had. Can you tell she's my favourite?

Emily lives in the California Bay Area now, so we're 8 time zones apart, but it doesn't stop us from regular Skype dates and endless email chains. Maybe that makes it even more appropriate that this recipe is from The Stars & Stripes, a magazine published for expat military families living a world away from all of their friends and family.

In fact, the introduction reads:

'And here's one especially for Mrs. R. Fruda of Holiday. It's guaranteed good by Mrs. Howard Black of St. Petersburg, who discovered it published in the Stars and Stripes while she was in Germany. She baked it, saved it, and now it's yours.'

Emily started her own bakery last year (making desserts far more delicious than mine), so the idea of friends sharing recipes is something that will always bring her to my mind. But where I treat cooking like a choose-your-own-adventure novel, substituting ingredients at will, trying things to taste instead of by measurement, and combining recipes when I can't find one that satisfies my whims, Emily believes baking is a science: her cooking experiments follow strict instructions and are carefully calculated, planned, and meticulously recorded so that they can be re-created (or avoided) anytime. I should really take some cues from her.

This cheesecake is already my favourite one from the box, and here are all the reasons why: it doesn't require a springform pan, it doesn't involve ricotta or sour cream or milk, the ingredients don't have to be brought to room temperature, there is no water bath, and it cooks in less than half an hour. None of which have been true with any of the first four Recipe Box cheesecakes I've made.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. A toasted graham crust, a filling just lightly sweetened, permission from the recipe to top the cake with cherries, and a perfect, creamy texture without leaving you feeling like you ate a brick of cream cheese; this cheesecake is the easiest and best cheesecake you'll make this year. Make it, bring it to work or share it with your best baking friend and enjoy.

The recipe:

Quick and Easy Cheesecake

the directions:

Preheat the oven to 162C/325F.
Whiz the crackers in the food processor until they are a fine crumb.
Mix crumbs with melted butter, 2 tbsp sugar, and a sprinkle of salt to form a loose graham crust.
Pat this gently into the bottom and up the sides of a pie pan and set aside.
Beat eggs until pale yellow and thick, then set aside.
With the same beater, beat the rest of the ingredients until smooth and uniform, scraping sides frequently.
Add the eggs and beat well until smooth.
Pour over crust and smooth top.
Bake for 20-30 minutes until the middle jiggles only slightly when the pan is nudged.
Let cool and top with pineapple or cherries before serving.

the ingredients:

1 ¼ c digestive biscuit or graham cracker crumbs
2 tbsp melted butter
½ c + 2 tbsp sugar, divided
2 eggs
3 packages cream cheese (I used 540 grams, and it was the perfect amount to fill my standard-size pie pan)
1 tsp lemon juice
½ tsp vanilla
Cherry pie filling or 'Thickened pineapple' for garnish

Lemon Yogurt Cookies

I love citrus fruit. My favourite time of the year is tangerine season (but only if you can get good, juicy Florida tangerines), and if I could only smell like one thing for the rest of my life it would be orange blossoms. If a recipe calls for lemon zest, I always double the amount. I even like citrus peel, and eat it as a snack anytime it comes in a drink or on the side of a salad (much to Judson's chagrin).

I think it all stems from one afternoon when I was a baby, and my parents took me out to lunch with my grandmother. Halfway through lunch, I got fussy, and without even breaking the conversation, Eleanor fished the lemon slice out of her water glass, picked the seeds out, and handed it to me. My mom tried to stop her, and I winced when I first gummed down on it, but then I happily enjoyed it for the rest of the lunch, sucking and gumming at it like there was no tomorrow.

And there you have it: an addiction was born. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was growing up with a grapefruit tree, a lime tree, an orange tree, and a tangerine tree in our backyard, but either way, the fact remains that if there's a citrus option on any menu, I'm bound to be interested. So naturally when I found the below recipe for Lemon Yogurt cookies, I knew I had to make them, and soon.

This recipe comes from an article entitled 24 Cookie-Jar Favourites from the September 1977 issue of Better Home & Gardens, and all I have to say about that is that I am sure glad that the page Eleanor ripped out only included 6 of those favourites, because I do not have time for 24 recipes from the same damn magazine. Unlike most recipes in the box, though, you could fool yourself into thinking this one is 'healthy' because hey, at least it includes yogurt?

Plus, the tiny size of the cookies HAS to count for something when it comes to portion control, right?

Anyway, this is an easy recipe that comes together in a cinch-- it's practically a one-bowl recipe (if you're careful), and if you have a well-stocked pantry, you probably already have all the ingredients except the yogurt and nuts. The texture is fluffy and cakey without being too soft, and the cookies themselves have just a hint of lemon-- enough to brighten up an otherwise boring cookie, but not so much that it distracts from the flavour of warm homemade treats.

And, seriously, this should not have been such a lightbulb moment for me, but as it turns out you can make powdered sugar glaze with literally any liquid! It doesn't have to be milk+powdered sugar+food dye-- you can use yogurt! Or (probably) juice! Or honey! Or (maybe) applesauce! My eyes have been opened and now I feel that the possiblities are endless. But shhh: don't tell anyone. Let's keep it our little secret, and then when people are impressed with our frostings we can just nod knowingly and think about how awesome we are.

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. They're easy, they're delicious, but they don't hold up well overnight, so you have to eat them fast (not a problem, exactly, because they are delicious). Honestly, though, I wanted the icing to have a bit more zing than it did, and so I added some lemon juice to make it happen but that threw off the texture so I added more powdered sugar and then it wasn't zingy anymore. You know what I mean.

The recipe:

Lemon Yogurt Cookies

the directions:

Preheat oven to 190C/375F and lightly grease two cookie sheets.
Cream sugars, butter, shortening, egg, and vanilla until light and fluffy.
Stir in flour, salt, and baking soda, blending well.
Scrape sides of bowl and stir in ½ c yogurt and ½ c almonds.
Drop from a heaped teaspoon in 10pence/quarter-sized dollops onto the cookie sheet, approximately two inches apart. (The size will look small, but they puff up a lot, so you won't want them bigger).
Bake 8-10 minutes until light golden-brown.
Let stand for 30 seconds before moving to a cooling rack.
Let cool completely before frosting.
While cookies are cooling, sift together the remaining yogurt and powdered sugar and stir until thickened.
Frost the cookies after they've cooled completely, and sprinkle with additional chopped and toasted almonds.

Yields 2 dozen cookies.

the ingredients:

½ c sugar
¼ c brown sugar, packed
¼ c butter
¼ c shortening
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 ¼ c flour
¾ tsp salt
½ tsp baking soda
¾ c lemon yogurt, divided
¾ c almonds, toasted and chopped or flaked, divided
2 c powdered sugar, sifted