Fruit Dessert

I was in line at an outdoor market in Paris and une dame d’un certain âge in front of me was getting a lesson on preparing rhubarb from la vendeuse, who insisted that rhubarb absolutely, positively had to be peeled before cooking. Having prepared quite a bit of rhubarb, often in a professional capacity, I figured I could add my deux centimes, so I spoke up, telling them that I’d never done that and that it really wasn’t necessary. Immediately, the line of French housewives erupted, insisting that yes, you simply must peel rhubarb. Seeing as I was outnumbered, I decided to not argue the point. Safely back at home, I’ll admit with confidence that I’ve never found the need to peel rhubarb for a recipe, but I have experimented with using it in unconventional ways and found that it has a remarkable affinity for pineapple and raspberries, a mix that makes a delicious fruit cobbler—which no one should have any quibbles with.

With such a strong almond-like flavor, it makes sense to think that authentic Italian amaretti cookies are made with almonds. But, in fact, it’s apricot kernels that give them their robust, nutlike bite. Whatever the source of their flavor, amaretti cookies have a remarkable affinity for stone fruits such as peaches. I often double (or triple) the recipe for this topping and freeze the leftover in a zippered plastic bag. That way, I have some on hand and can bake up a crisp at a moment’s notice.

I’m a big fan of fruit crisps. When I worked at Chez Panisse, I learned I wasn’t alone—they were more popular than our signature dark chocolate cake. But I’m not entirely convinced that I’d choose a fruit crisp over chocolate cake. Maybe I’d order both in the name of research. This fruit crisp topping, made with crunchy polenta, stands up well to the juiciest mélange of fruits. Here, I mix apples and pears, and it may seem like a lot of fruit when you’re doing all that peeling and slicing, but it cooks down considerably during baking. Use a good baking apple, such as Gravenstein, Winesap, Pippin, Northern Spy, or Cortland.

My friend Cindy Meyers, who tested many of the recipes in this book and my two previous ones, wrote me, excitedly, that this dessert was her favorite of all that she tested. “The almond topping is so fluffy!” she commented. Considering she’s someone that I look to for criticism, when praise comes forth, I’m flattered.

If you’re as wild about berries as I am, you’ll find that this pie is the height of luxury and one of the season’s greatest treats. It’s a dessert that I make only in the summer, at the moment when berries are abundant and at their peak. When I lived in San Francisco, I’d drive east across the bay to Monterey Market in Berkeley where flats of berries were so plentiful—and so inexpensive—that I found it impossible not to come home with at least a few piled up in my trunk. In addition to turning the berries into jams, compotes, and sorbets, I’d always bake this pie. A total of 6 cups of berries makes up the filling—use whichever types you prefer. Unless you buy berries by the flat, like I did, most berries are sold in half-pint or pint baskets, so expect to have some leftover fruit, which I know you’ll put to good use. I always did.

Here’s a superb dessert for highlighting summer peaches when they are at their peak of flavor and so juicy that you struggle to pick up the slippery slices that elude your grasp. This is an ideal dessert to bring to a summertime picnic or barbecue: it’s easy to assemble in advance and even easier to eat.

I’ve found that as I get older, I tend to forget about the things that aren’t all that important to me, like paying bills, what day it is, and so on. But I never, ever forget a dessert. A few decades ago, some friends who had lived in Brazil for a few years invited me for dinner and served bien me sabe, a moist concoction of sponge cake and coconut cream. And I never got it out of my head how fantastic that simple combination tasted. Years later, when I was the pastry chef at a restaurant that specialized in Asian cooking, I had the opportunity to seek out and use all sorts of tropical fruit, many of which I hadn’t ever seen before. And I thought bien me sabe would be the perfect backdrop for a jumble of exotic flavors. Although I’ve used the types of tropical fruit that are the most widely available, feel free to add or use others in place of what I’ve suggested. But just be sure to heat them through, as most tropical fruits contain a heat-sensitive enzyme that causes custards to break down. I learned this the hard way. I like the way large shreds of fresh coconut look on top of this dessert. If you have the inclination, crack one open, shave off large shards, and toast them to use as garnish.

During a baking demonstration, I once inadvertently blurted out, “I don’t like sweet things,” at which point the room erupted with laughter. I didn’t quite see what was so funny until someone pointed out that I was making desserts. Well, yes. I was. But it’s true—I don’t really like oversweet desserts. I adore caramel and toffee more than anyone, but I like them paired with something to balance the sweetness. Sticky toffee pudding is the Holy Grail for toffee lovers. My version is topped with slices of kumquats as a puckery counterpoint to the gooey-rich sweet toffee.

This cake always reminds me of my trips to Brittany, an exceptionally beautiful region in western France that borders the Atlantic Ocean. The often-blustery weather is the only thing that stands in the way of Brittany becoming a major tourist destination. Aside from the chilly climate, the region is famous for its hand-harvested sea salt and salted butter caramel, both of which I would travel to the ends of the earth for. And no matter where you go in the region, you’ll find buckwheat being served in various guises, from griddled galettes to kig ha farz, a local curiosity made by poaching a pasty buckwheat batter in the sleeve of a linen shirt until it’s firm. Then it’s rolled on the counter until it breaks into tiny bits, like buckwheat couscous. They say it’s something that you need to be Breton to enjoy, so I must have some Breton in me since I loved it since the first time I tried it. I’m happy to have this cake in my repertoire because I enjoy the hearty taste of buckwheat in my desserts, too.

This light, playful salad can wear several pairs of shoes. While substantial enough to be a main course when you just don’t feel like heating up the kitchen, it also makes a great mealtime bookend, equally pleasing as an inviting appetizer or as an exotic dessert.

Glorias are a typical dessert in Veracruz. Traditionally, they use a syrup made from grosellas, a small red fruit similar to a red currant. Since it’s hard to find grosellas outside of Mexico (but by all means use them if you have access!), I used the syrup from the Raspado Rojo as a successful alternative. However, you can also use red currant marmalade by thinning the marmalade with a bit of water and cooking it over low-medium heat until you obtain a light syrup consistency (you can blend it if it’s chunky). I was quite surprised that I liked this concoction because I’d imagined it was going to be super sweet—but the ice helped balanced everything out.

This stunning shaved ice is a guaranteed crowd-pleaser. You can make these ahead of time for a party by assembling the shaved ices, then placing them in the freezer for 30 minutes prior to your guests’ arrival. (Just make sure they’re not in the freezer for too long or the ice will become too hard—and the glass could crack.)

Rojo means “red,” and this syrup gets its name from the vibrant color of fresh pomegranates. Similar ices made with grenadine are found all over Mexico, but grenadine is usually made with artificial flavors and colors. I wanted to include a recipe using fresh pomegranates because it’s really tasty. You can clean an extra pomegranate and sprinkle the seeds on top of each serving for a lovely garnish.

This filling adds a little tropical flavor to a basic vanilla sponge cake. Frost it with whipped cream and you’re done. For a special vegan dessert, top the Dairy-Free Cheesecake (page 62) with this sweet and tangy topping.

Sweet cherries are delicious as a cake filling and make a luscious topping for cheesecake.

Is there anything more impressive and exciting than a flaming dessert? It’s not nearly as complicated as you might imagine, and what better way to make your guests feel special? You can make these crêpes in advance. Refrigerate them for up to 5 days or freeze them with waxed paper between each crêpe. Just bring the crêpes to room temperature and warm on a baking sheet in a 350°F oven for 5 minutes before serving.

In this light and elegant dessert, the pears turn a beautiful rosy color from the wine. The slightly tart taste of lemon topping drizzled over the pears and the crunch of toasted pistachios complete the dish.

Warm fruit desserts with ice cream are definitely satisfying. This one, with a delectable brandied pecan sauce, is a real winner. My friend (and fellow gourmand) Edward Eglowsky says he could have these peaches for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Here’s the recipe, Ed.

Sweet blueberries and juicy peaches remind me of summer. With its buttery biscuit topping, this cobbler brings back memories of backyard picnics and barbeques. Don’t forget the ice cream when serving this dessert. If you like, you can substitute the buttermilk with low-fat plain kefir, a cultured yogurtlike drink. Full of Lactobacillus acidophilus, a beneficial probiotic that aids in digestion, kefir is widely available at health food stores.

This apple crumble is the ultimate healthy-eating comfort food. Together the warm cinnamon apples and the rich walnut topping can’t be beat. Combining apples of mixed texture works best. A firm variety such as Golden Delicious will retain its shape and texture while a Cortland will lend itself beautifully to producing a thick, delicious sauce.