“discovering” the classics: apple pie.

I had never really had apple pie before.

And by that, I mean I had never had REAL apple pie before. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m the son of immigrants who met in the states, married in the states, and had children in the states. And my folks did the best they could to be American. While we were definitely a true Hispanic family, we celebrated American holidays, spoke English, and ate American foods; one of which my father had developed a particular affinity for: apple pie. 

Now, I know I said that I had never really had apple pie. But, before you rush to point out my inconsistencies, I should elaborate on the distinction I make between the apple pie my father loves and real apple pie. Real apple pie is filled with succulently juicy, tart and spicy apples, encased in a buttery, crisp, flaky crust. It’s a work of poetic alchemy in the way that these things just come together and are transformed by each other. Real apple pie doesn’t need ice cream or even whipped cream; on the contrary it can make a devout Taoist out of the most staunch Hedonist. 

My father… likes supermarket apple pie. And if this this seemed like an overly blunt transition, you’re right. But it was all I ever knew for the better part of my life. And it’s a great example of how challenging it is for immigrants to lean unspoken cultural idiosyncrasies. Because I’m guessing somewhere in some conversation, my father heard that apple tastes great with whipping cream, but no one told my father he should actually whip the cream first. So at some point, my father must’ve rushed to the supermarket, bought an apple pie, a carton of whipping cream, and not knowing any better, poured the cream over his generous slice of pie. So effectively, we would eat cold apple pie stew… a sad sliver of cardboard crust encasing (likely) canned apples that maybe were part of living organism 10 years ago, drenched in a pool of heavy cream. But we felt American, and that was important to us. Just as important as feeling Latino.

My parents having just purchased their first home. Pomona, California - circa 1979.

I had never really had apple pie before. 

And the fun and scary thing about baking is that I’ve really had never had anything before. I say it’s “fun” because all of a sudden, things that I never really liked before are becoming my favorite things ever. “Scary” because I’m never really sure if it’s… right. Delicious, attractive, yes yes yes. But is it right? 

Being the son of immigrants brings about a cultural insecurity in many aspects of life… Jokes that everyone else gets except for me; references to movies that came out before I even knew how to speak English. Did I make it into this school because I’m smart or because they need more diversity? So you’re not supposed to pour un-whipped cream on top of your apple pie?

But there’s something magical about discovering a piece of traditional archaism for the first time and to revel it as something of novelty. There’s something magical about your parents giving you their ceiling so that it could be your floor. And there’s something magical about knowing that there’s better apple pies out there, but still going to your folks’ house, cutting a slice of supermarket pie, and pouring un-whipped heavy cream over it; for old times’ sake.

“My” apple pie

Normally you can come to expect a recipe associated with my blog posts, but in this case, I feel inclined to do something a bit different. Although I’ve been making this apple pie for 4 years now, and it’s become a trusty weapon in my recipe arsenal (not “my” apple pie as much as it is my “go-to” apple pie); I haven’t dared to tweak this recipe or alter it. And I think that speaks to two things: it’s unique enough that even bold deviations still point back to the original author, and it’s good enough as is.

So, you want to make this beautiful pie, right? This recipe is from my all time baking heroine, Rose Levy Beranbaum as written in “The Baking Bible.” It features a unique cream cheese/butter pastry crust that is crisp, flaky and tender, as well as a delightful addition of apple cider to the filling. The pie pictured in this blog is faithful to the recipe, adding only the light brushing of an egg wash glaze prior to baking.

It is my sincerest hope that you enjoy this pie and this author as much as I do. And I hope it becomes just as much “yours” as it is “mine.”

“Heirloom” by Sleeping At Last

you try your hardest to leave the past alone.
this crooked posture is all you’ve ever known.
it is the consequence of living in between
the weight of family and the pull of gravity.

you are so much more than your father’s son.
you are so much more than what i’ve become.

long before you were born
there was light hidden deep
in these young, unfamiliar eyes.
a million choices, though little on their own,
become the heirloom of the heaviness you’ve known.

you are so much more than your father’s son.
you are so much more than what i’ve become,
what i’ve become,
what i’ve become.

you pressed rewind for the thousandth time
when the tapes wore through.
so you memorized those unscripted lines,
desperate for some kind of clue:
when the scale tipped,
when you inherited a fight that you were born to lose.

it’s not your fault, no,
it’s not your fault,
i put this heavy heart in you.
i put this heavy heart in you.

you remind me of who i could have been,
had i been stronger and braver way back then.
a million choices, though little on their own,
became the heirloom of the heaviness we’ve known.

you are so much more than your father’s son.
you are so much more than the wars you’ve won.
you are so much more than your father’s son.
you are so much more than what i’ve become.

Home Bakers Collective: French Macarons

“How much cream would you like in your coffee?” I very commonly get asked at a coffee shop.

“Until it’s about the color of my skin.”

I love saying that. It’s the most accurate way of describing how much milk or cream to add to my coffee, but it reminds me of how much I love my skin color. 

cappuccino courtesy of lucky’s coffee roasters in upland, ca

Last summer, I met a tribe of bakers that became a wonderful community to me. Together we started the Home Bakers Collective, and I’ll regularly be participating in that the things we do together. This month, we asked the age old question every serious thinker takes time to ponder and reflect on:

“If you were a French Macaron, what kind would you be?”

One of the things I love about my community of bakers, is that while our love of baking and each other binds us, we are all different in our point of views, (although you’ll find there is some overlap). But yet, as different as we are, I treasure a small collection of pictures I have of us all sitting in front of our ovens, eagerly watching the magic in front of us.

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So. If I was a French Macaron, what kind would I be? Coffee and Dulce de Leche. I could go on and on about how both me and this macaron appear simple on the outside, yet are complex. I could tell you that most people see an aloof, somewhat dark and unapproachable exterior, yet are delighted by how sweet I can actually be once I trust them. And I can tell you that coffee tasting is a serious hobby of mine, and that dulce de leche is a nod to my culture of which I am very proud.

But… at the end of the day, it’s just a cookie. A delicious one, sure. But a cookie nonetheless. 

these macarons are filled with a ring of dark coffee flavored white chocolate ganache that surrounds a dollop of sweet, dulce de leche.

I tried my best to have them be the color of my skin, but I think that’s easier to do with actual coffee.

Jerusalem: Chocolate Babka

in jerusalem

In Jerusalem, at dusk I met a smile that changed my definition of the stars.
Galaxies, Systems, Planets afar
aligned to sing a song of what could be
yet wouldn’t be.
But still so beautifully
this song resonates of a love in another universe that burns so strong
that the stars still sing its song
to us in this reality
this reality which could never be as good as what could be
would be

should be.

the western wall

this bread serves to help me remember my trip to israel in 2015. and the unforgettable people i met there. here’s to many more bakes, songs, and poems to you Jerusalem, and everyone that in my heart you represent.

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tldr – recipe here

ingredients:

Dough
530g unbleached all-purpose flour, like King Arthur

100g granulated sugar

10g instant yeast, such as SAF

175g warm water

2 large eggs, + 2 large egg yolks

150g room temp unsalted high fat European butter, such as Plugra (plus more for greasing the pans)
3g fine sea salt

non-stick cooking spray

chocolate paste: 

160g dark 70% chocolate
110g unsalted butter
95g powdered sugar
35g dark dutch processed cocoa powder like Green & Black or Guittard

small pinch of salt

syrup:

65g water

75g sugar
5g vanilla extract (not paste)
15g of complimentary liqueur of your choice. I recommend Bourbon, Cognac, Rum, Amaretto

Equipment
2 - 8.5” by 4.5” loaf pans
Stand mixer (optional)

Method

1. In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together the all-purpose flour, yeast, sugar, salt.

2. Whisk together water and eggs, then add to dry mixture.

3. Add the hook attachment to your stand mixer and mix on medium-low (speed 2 on a Kitchenaid) Mix until it begins to form a dough, stop occasionally to scrape sides.

4. Once dough is formed, add the room temperature butter, a tablespoon at a time, keeping the mixer at medium low speed until all butter is incorporated. As necessary, scrape down the sides of the bowl.

5. Mix /knead for about 8-10 minutes until the dough is completely smooth.

6. Lightly spray the bottom and sides of a large bowl with cooking spray.

7. Place the dough in the bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let it sit in the refrigerator at least overnight, up to 24 hours.

8. Lightly brush two loaf pans with melted butter.

9. Make the chocolate filling: In a medium pot, add the butter and chopped chocolate. Let it melt, and when completely melted add in the cocoa powder and powdered sugar. Mix until smooth.

10. Remove dough from the refrigerator, weigh it and divide into two equal portions by weight.

11. Flour a work surface, roll out one of the dough portions into a rectangle.

12. Spread the half of the chocolate filling on the rolled-out dough leaving a border of 1 inch on the edges.

13. Roll the dough from the longer side until you form a thick cylinder.

14. Push the edges in. Slowly, carefully, cut the tube in half, lengthwise with a sharp knife.

15. Pinch the ends together and fold each side over the other (like a braid) until you reach the other end and pinch those together.

16. Place the braid into the loaf pan and cover with a damp towel.

17. Repeat the entire process with the other half of the dough to form your second loaf.

18. Proof loaves or an hour meanwhile pre-heat oven to 375ºF

19. bake until it’s done, 25-30 minutes, they will golden brown on top, and metal cake tester inserted in the middle will come out clean.

20. Before loaves are done, make the syrup by mixing sugar and water together in a pot over medium heat, and just bring it to heat until all the sugar is dissolved.

21. Set it aside. Cool sightly and add vanilla and liqueur.

22. When the loaves come out of the oven and immediately brush them with the syrup. Use up all the glaze.

White Chocolate Passion Fruit Genoise + My Flour Hour tribute

At the risk of exposing just how nerdy and obsessed I am, I’ll share with you that I am a big fan of the Flour Hour Podcast– a podcast dedicated completely to baking. It could just be because I can listen for hours to people talk about baking. It could be that they have featured some of my favorite people in baking (I’m looking at you, Rose Levy Beranbaum). But really, I think what keeps me coming back for more is the excellent way they show the people behind the craft. Amanda and Jeremiah have a unique way of showing deep admiration for their guests, but not at the expense of connecting with them as PEOPLE. And I bet that’s refreshing to anyone with a modicum of celebrity– having someone to talk to them for who they are, and not talk past their humanity to fixate on their acclaim. An example of how they do this is the never failing and familiar Flour Hour question.

“If you could bake for anyone dead or alive, who would you bake for and what would you make for them?”

This is where I really come to know the bakers they feature. Because when you study about great people, you don’t just get to know more about the person themselves, but you get to know more people… their inner circle, in other words, the people that made them who they are/were. You can come to know a lot about a person by seeing who caught their attention, who did they learn from, who did they shed tears for. 

Well.. while, I don’t ever expect (fingers crossed) to be featured on the Flour Hour podcast, I took it as a personal mission today to answer the famous Flour Hour question anyway. As someone that spends more time looking out than looking in, this is good for me. It gives me reason to introspect, and in an attempt to teach others about myself, I’ll learn about myself too. So without any further ado, I’d like to introduce you the person I would bake for if I could bake for anyone dead or alive: 

C.S. Lewis. Author of the Chronicles of Narnia, philosopher/observer extraordinaire, and the man who first taught me how to connect thoughts, emotions, and faith. In his own challenges with grief and loss, Lewis taught me it’s ok to believe yet doubt– to know, yet still listen to what your heart has to say. Above all, I choose C.S. Lewis because his writings helped me to think, believe, and feel, and because of him I know that the balance between the three is indeed attainable. And for C.S. Lewis, I would bake a White Chocolate Passionfruit Genoise. 

C.S. Lewis considered Perelandra (the second book of his acclaimed Space Trilogy) his best work, and I’m inclined to agree. Beneath its surface, Perelandra is more than just speculative theology cloaked in a voyage to the planet Venus. Perelandra is a cosmic drama, and one that we are all a part of in our struggle between good, evil, and their respective definitions. And more so for me, it was a necessary distraction. I started reading Perelandra when I journeyed through  a bout of deep depression several years ago. I had just returned home from a mission to Peru, and Ransom’s mission to an extraterrestrial tropical paradise fit me like glove. The jungles of Peru may as well have been an extra terrestrial experience, and like Ransom, I felt like I was supposed to empty out the ocean with a spoon. 

Perelandra served as a means of escape to brighter more colorful world when the real world seemed so dark and gray; and vicariously I lived out the expectations of my own (arguably failed) mission through Ransom’s. It can be done. Next time I’ll try harder. I’ll do more. I will at least stay longer. 5 AM mornings with a glimmering view of Venus, the Morning Star on the eastern horizon would remind me of this as I would look towards Venus and assuredly whisper to myself “Perelandra.”

Back to the bake. Lewis describes en encounter Ransom has with a new type of fruit on Perelandra with sensations inexplicable with earthly terms. 

“Now he had come to a part of the wood where great globes of yellow fruit hung from the trees--clustered as toy-balloons are clustered on the back of the balloon-man and about the same size. He picked one of them and turned it over and over. The rind was smooth and firm and seemed impossible to tear open. Then by accident one of his fingers punctured it and went through into coldness. After a moment's hesitation he put the little aperture to his lips. He had meant to extract the smallest, experimental sip, but the first taste put his caution all to flight. It was, of course, a taste, just as his thirst and hunger had been thirst and hunger. But then it was so different from every other taste that it seemed mere pedantry to call it a taste at all. It was like the discovery of a totally new genus of pleasures, something unheard of among men, out of all reckoning, beyond all covenant. For one draught of this on earth wars would be fought and nations betrayed. It could not be classified. He could never tell us, when he came back to the world of men, whether it was sharp or sweet, savoury or voluptuous, creamy or piercing. "Not like that" was all he could ever say to such inquiries. As he let the empty gourd fall from his hand and was about to pluck a second one, it came into his head that he was now neither hungry nor thirsty. And yet to repeat a pleasure so intense and almost so spiritual seemed an obvious thing to do. His reason, or what we commonly take to be reason in our own world, was all in favour of tasting this miracle again; the child-like innocence of fruit, the labours he had undergone, the uncertainty of the future, all seemed to commend the action. Yet something seemed opposed to this "reason." It is difficult to suppose that this opposition came from desire, for what desire would turn from so much deliciousness? But for whatever cause, it appeared to him better not to taste again. Perhaps the experience had been so complete that repetition would be a vulgarity--like asking to hear the same symphony twice in a day.”

So what was this mysterious deletable fruit Lewis describes? I’m sure he meant it to remain a mystery, yet something defined by the readers themselves. The Peruvian in me defines it as a larger, and more liquid Maracuyá (Peruvian passionfruit); and if you feel this is a blunt reduction of the culinary symphony Lewis describes, then I am inclined to believe you’ve never had Maracuyá in all its glory. And in this lucid dream mine in which Lewis is resurrected from the dead and invited to have a slice of cake with me, Lewis emphatically agrees with me that this is exactly what he imagined the Venusian fruit tasted like in his imagination. In this dream, Lewis and I play a wonderful game of philosophy and food tug of war… the kind of food and conversation that you can’t decide which is better… the lively animated discussion that opens up your mind and heart; or the delectable delicacy on your plate that opens up your senses and grounds you back to this planet that demands that you live in it. My hope would be that I wouldn’t even have to tell him that this White Chocolate Passion Fruit Genoise is inspired by Perelandra: Voyage to Venus. He would look at it, taste it, and he would already know. 

My mission was to make a cake that looked like Venus, and a cake that reminds the baker of tropical worlds beyond our own. The Peruvian correlation was just the icing on the cake (pun intended). The journey through a network of memories associated with intercultural ministry, missions, depression, failure, and fictional masterpieces is, of course, optional. 

P.S. I promise my next entry will be shorter. Pinky promise. 

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tldr – recipe here

White Chocolate Passionfruit Genoise

ingredients

Passion Fruit Curd
74g egg yolks (best you can find, the more orange yolk the better.)
135g fine granulated sugar
135g passion fruit juice/puree
57g softened unsalted butter
pinch of salt

Genoise
74-80g egg yolks
120g egg whites
57g softened unsalted butter
2 tsp tahitian vanilla bean paste
100g fine granulated sugar 
50g fine bleached cake flour (I use Swan’s Down)
50g Rapunzel brand non-gmo corn starch (note: I recommend this specific brand of corn starch because of some issues reported with various brands of GMO corn starch and even some “non-GMO” cornstarch. This is the only brand that has worked for me, and using a brand that is GMO (in spite of what the label says) will cause this cake to not rise. If you cannot find Rapunzel brand, replace with an equal amount of potato starch or more cake flour)

Genoise Rum Soak
56g fine granulated sugar
120g water
28g Dark Jamaican Rum

White Chocolate Swiss Meringue Buttercream
227g high fat unsalted european style butter (I prefer Plugra or President)
100g fine granulated sugar
75g egg whites
1 tsp Tahitian vanilla bean paste
85g pure white chocolate (preferred is Green & Black brand, but Valrhona and Guittard are great options as well)
pinch of fine sea salt

Venus Mirror Glaze
300g fine granulated sugar)
200g sweetened condensed milk
150g water
19g gelatin + 120g water to bloom
350g pure white chocolate
pink, yellow, orange gel food coloring

special equipment 
1 half sheet baking sheets, lined with parchment paper, half size cooling rack over it
#9” (23cm) by 2” (5cm) round cake pan
Immersion blender
Stand Mixer
medium sauce pan
large balloon whisk. This is the one I use.

method:

1. Prepare passionfruit curd (could be done several days in advance)

   1. combine yolks, salt, and sugar in a medium sauce pan and mix with a whisk until well combined.

   2. beat in butter and mix until well combined.

   3. mix in passionfruit juice and set over a stove on low heat.

   4. stirring constantly, mix until thick and reaches a temperature of 190. Consistency will be pourable, yet thick.

   5. strain into a container, cover with plastic wrap, set aside to cool, and refrigerate once completely cool.

2. Prepare Genoise:

   1. Preheat oven to 350º F (175ºC) if your oven has a convection feature, do not use it and ensure it is turned off. Grease and flour the pan and line the cake pan with a round sheet of parchment paper.

   2. on low heat, melt butter until completely liquid. increase heat to medium and heat past the bubbling stage until butter is golden brown and fragrant. Strain using a fine mesh strainer lined with cheesecloth. The point here is to not have any brown butter solids. combine with vanilla and set aside somewhere warm.

   3. combine sugar and eggs in the bowl of a stand mixer, and gently mix over a saucepan of simmering water until sugar is dissolved and mixture is warm to the touch. Be careful to not over heat mixture and curdling.

   4. Place mixer bowl back on stand mixer, and starting at lowest speed gradually increase speed to highest setting. Beat at highest setting for a total of 5 minutes. Mixture will be tippled in volume.

   5. Meanwhile sift flour/cornstarch at least two times, set aside.

   6. Remove from mixer, and separate approximately a cup of the beaten eggs and beat with browned butter and vanilla until fully incorporated. Set aside

   7. Sift half the flour mixture over beaten eggs and gently fold with a large whisk (it’s my experience that a rubber spatula deflates the beaten eggs more than a whisk. Here is the one I use for folding. Fold until most of the flour has disappeared into the batter

   8. sift remaining flour and fold.

   9. pour butter/egg mixture into the batter and gently fold until just incorporated.

   10. pour completed batter into the cake pan at once and bake for 25-30 minutes, or until sides of the cake just begin to come away from the sides of the pan. The cake will rise above the pan slightly, and then sink slightly before it’s done. Finished height will be 1 3/4” high.

   11. Unmold immediately and set aside to cool.

3. Make rum soak

   1. combine sugar and water in a heat proof glass measuring cup and stir well to combine

      1. heat in a microwave until mixture just comes to a slight boil and all sugar is dissolved

      2. set aside to cool, once cool, add rum and stir to combine. cover with plastic wrap and set aside.

4. Make White Chocolate Swiss Meringue Buttercream

   1. Combine egg whites and sugar in a bowl of a stand mixer. heat over a water bath until mixture is warm to the touch and all sugar is dissolved.

   2. Fix bowl on to stand mixer and beat with whisk attachment until completely cool.

   3. In a separate bowl, beat butter until increased in volume and pale in color, medium speed about 5 minutes.

   4. combine two mixtures and beat until combined.

   5. Melt white chocolate and slowly drizzle into mixture along with vanilla with the mixer running until fully combined.

5. Make Mirror Glaze

   1. Bloom gelatin with smaller portion of water and set aside for 5 minutes

   2. heat sweetened condensed milk, sugar, and water in a saucepan over medium heat until it just comes to a simmer

   3. stir in gelatin until it’s completely dissolved.

   4. Pour hot milk mixture over white chocolate and allow to rest for 5 minutes.

   5. Blend with an immersion blender until smooth.

   6. Pass through a sieve to remove any bubbles

   7. pour unit a tall wide container and drip a few drops of each food coloring and lightly stir (but do not combine)

6. Assemble Cake

   1. Cut cooled genoise cake in half horizontally making two layers.

   2. Place bottom layer on a 9” cake board, and with a brush, apply half of the rum soak.

   3. Pipe a ring of buttercream around the edge of the bottom layer creating a dam

   4. fill with about 3/4 of the passionfruit curd (save the rest for snacking)

   5. Top with top layer and brush evenly with the remaining portion of roam soak.

   6. Even coat the top and sides of the cake until smooth

   7. place in a freezer for 10 minutes

   8. Once mirror glaze has cooled to about 91º F or 33ºC, place cake on a cooling rack set over a rimmed baking sheet. pour glaze on the center of the cake until it covers the whole cake and flows down the sides.

   9. Place in the refrigerator until glaze is set.

7. Summon C.S. Lewis from the dead and enjoy a generous slice with him over milk and tea.

chocolate chip cookies + my childhood epiphany

i finally got around to watching stephen king’s “it” (the sequel) last weekend. it was a long two years’ wait for me, and as if 2 years wasn’t long enough, it happened to come out when I was out of the country for two months. “it” has become one of my favorite novels, and not because of any particular inherent affinity towards morbidity. and i say this because truly “it” is only at its surface a story about an evil carnivorous, shape-shifting clown that has a particular palate for children, and even more so if the children are terrified out of their minds. beneath the surface is the real story that begs us to introspect and find that child we’ve always been – the child that was stifled but never fully silenced. who we were when we were children is who we are now. and we were made of some pretty tough stuff – malleable, sure. but tough stuff nonetheless.

watching the seven members of the losers’ club process trauma, and grow up to be adults was remarkable. there’s a sort of thoughtful voyeurism you feel seeing them through their lives. and although it is obvious to you (the reader) that everything these characters think, feel, and do has some tie to their childhoods, the characters themselves are too wrapped up in the moment to see it, and too scared to care. which made me wonder – seeing as there’s there’s no man-eating clown chasing me to distract me from valuable introspection – is this the case with me?

mom and I, circa 3 years old

childhood for me was awkward at its best, turbulent at its worst. anti-social, nerdy (the obsessive variety of nerdy), with a tinge of artistry, and in spite of it all, i was oddly discontent with what made me happy. with all the pressures that come along with different, i hated being me. i hated that i loved hiding in my closet, away from the crazy world, devouring books, traveling in my head to far-away lands i never thought i would ever see. i hated the way my dad’s face would light up when he would meet a young boy my age that was… well… normal. i hated feeling like i lived in a different world. but even so, i loved this world, and i could never part with it. i loved knowing everything there was about any given subject – dinosaurs and astronomy being the first victim subjects. in this world i was safe at 7 years old to learn the thrilling ambiguity found only in science, the passion of scholastic debate, and the importance of loosely holding on to strong opinions (for example, back then scientists had no idea the tyrannosaurus rex had feathers). music became another obsession, and i resolved to not only know everything, but to be able to play everything. that was one of the first times i learned that the synergy between body and mind was a delicate balance that few people achieved. but i was determined to one day become my own version of leonardo davinci.

sure, i could do so much more than what was expected of me academically and artistically, but why couldn’t i make everyone happy and kick around a soccer ball? or better yet, why couldn’t i want to kick around a soccer ball? why couldn’t i just walk up to kids i didn’t know and become friends? and again, why couldn’t i just want to?

at the heart of my discontent with identity, people were my achilles’ heel. i was a loner (by choice), somewhat rude, very obtuse to social structures/hierarchies. a disappointment to some, as my connection to the physical world would sooner be found onstage behind a piano rather than in a soccer field. cultural values after all, run deep.

as much as i now love this little guy, i don’t know exactly when i tucked him far away from sight. somewhere along the line, academics became more about insipid duty rather than exciting discovery, and i don’t know when i became all too happy to oblige. i became enamored with the thrill of achievement, and the corporate world was all too happy to provide thrill after thrill in my fast paced financial career. it took 12 years for that little guy to claw his way out of the adulthood rubble I buried him under, just to convince me that this career was never me. i just never knew it was him who compelled me. i just remember one day after finishing a particularly stimulating chapter of “it,” that i saw my mother shared a picture of me as a child on facebook. i had seen it before, but i didn’t know or realize that at some point i had learned to like this little kid. i learned to love him, no buts or ifs. i resolved to believe that the fact that the world didn’t understand him was not his problem. the fact that he was different was not his problem. the fact that the world was not grateful for him was also not his problem. and I learned that thankfully, he never left me. he was with me when i kept my promise to him that we would one day go to the american museum of natural history in nyc and behold the t-rex in all his glory. he’s the one that quietly giggles every time i win at chess. he was the one who told me run not walk from the corporate greed i had entangled myself in. and he’s the one to whom i must still solemnly (and regularly) promise that everything is going be ok.

the curly hair i would learn to like one day

i hadn’t noticed the tear down my cheek until it confronted me by falling onto my phone screen. so i wiped it off, took a good look at little kid carlos, and wrote him a toast:

here’s to you little guy
to dinosaurs and library books,
to demons under your bed.
to esl and rsp, 
and the things they said you’d never be.
here’s to curly hair you’ll learn to like one day,
and the place you’ll find one day... you'll see.

here’s to father figures,
bloody noses, scar tissue,
medications and the things
you said you’d never do.
here’s to stars and planets,
and the novels that taught you to feel.
feel the things you’d never felt for real.

here’s to curiosities,
montrisities,
grandiosities you’ve only read about back then
but will live later.
here’s to hiding behind trees,
being alone but never lonely,
looking people in the heart,
and not their eyes.

here’s to sticking with me, tenacious little guy.
teaching me to gawk at dinosaur bones
connecting the dots in the night sky.
reminding me that god never left you 
in those sleepless nights alone.

here’s to laughing and sometimes crying.
here’s to living, and never dying.
here’s to being strong while feeling fragile.
to watching everything unravel.
here’s to us, little guy.

here’s to us.



my dog nino and i, circa 4 years old

now as reward to those faithful enough to listen to my ramblings, i offer you a very real taste of my childhood – a developed version of my favorite childhood treat: chocolate chip cookies. and true to form, choc chip cookies remain one of my favorites today. truly, I think it’s providential that this be one of my first recipes. rose levy beranbaum puts it best in her book, the baking bible, “in france, the financier, or ingot, is the fingerprint of the pastry chef. in the united states, however, the cookie that can make a pastry chef’s reputation is indisputably the chocolate chip cookie.” disclaimer: i’m only a “pastry chef” according to very generous standards. but this I assure you, this cookie will forevermore raise your chocolate chip cookie standards. it is crisp on the outside, soft and chewy on the inside. it boasts of bold caramel flavors and complex vanilla flavors. so go on. make these, and feel like a kid again.

predatory clown rapaciously seeking to devour you and enslave your soul forever is optional.

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tldr – recipe here

my chocolate chip cookies

my choc chip cookies

ingredients

240g bleached all-purpose flour or unbleached pastry flour
90g bread flour
1 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp fine sea salt
1/4 tsp double acting baking powder
245g light brown muscovado sugar (do not substitute with regular brown sugar)
100g granulated white sugar
227g high fat unsalted european style butter (i prefer plugra or president)
28g half & half (coconut milk works for a very subtle coconut flavor as well)
1 large egg + 1 large egg yolk
3 tsp tahitian vanilla bean paste
150g guittard 63% dark chocolate chips 
150g guittard 46% semi-sweet chocolate chips (alternately, you may coarsely chop your favorite eating chocolate, 50%-61% cacao content)

optional:
maldon sea salt flakes
100 grams of toasted pecans, coarsely chopped

equipment 
2 half sheet baking sheets, lined with parchment paper
#24 cookie scoop
10” or larger non-stick skillet 
stand mixer (optional)
wide bottom mason gar or drinking glass

method:

1. combine sugars in the bowl of stand mixer.

2. on low heat, melt butter until completely liquid. increase heat to medium and heat past the bubbling stage until butter is golden brown and fragrant.

3. immediately pour into mixing bowl over sugar mixture and stir until loosely combined. 

4. set aside to cool until cool or just barely warm, about an hour. 

5. meanwhile, combine flours, baking powder/salt

6. whisk half and half, eggs, and vanilla in a small bowl and add to sugar/butter mixture once cooled. 

7. add dry ingredients and stir on lowest speed until just combined. add chocolate chips and stir until just combined. this will result in a thick, buttery dough that requires no scraping (if using a stand mixer).

8. using a #24 cookie scoop, scoop out level portions of cookie dough and arrange in a sheet pan lined with parchment paper. leave no space between each cookie dough ball.

9. cover well with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 24 hours.

10. next day, preheat your oven to 375ºf (190ºc) at least 30 minutes before baking. 

11. arrange cookie dough balls leaving at least 2 inches space in between. this should allow for 12 cookies per baking sheet. 

12. bake for 13-15 minutes, rotating once through. cookies will have spread to about 2.5-3 inch diameter, light golden brown, and be puffed up.

13. remove from oven and lightly grease bottom of mason jar/drinking glass, and gently press down puffed up cookies. cookies will be just under 1.5 cm in height (about 1/2 inch). sprinkle a pint of optional sea salt flakes. allow to cool for 5 minutes in the pan, and then transfer to a cooling rack.

14. pour a glass of milk )or milk alternative) and heartily enjoy. 

peruvian alfajores

trujillo, peru. locally named “the city of eternal springtime” (la ciudad de la eterna primavera), and rightly so. very rarely does the temperature peek below 60ºf, and even rarer still does it climb above 79ºf. and as if the utopian temperature wasn’t inviting enough, trujillo is also a coastal city in the north of peru that boasts of great beach vibes and even greater seafood. but geography aside, trujillo’s enchantments are more than just the superficial. it’s a magical city of culture, boasting of notable global accolades in art, dance, and food. trujillo is the ultimate destination for cost conscious bohemians (like myself); especially if said cost conscious bohemians have an affinity for good food (as I do).

huanchaco beach – trujillo, peru

but even so, there’s more. there’s a unique temperament that the city itself conveys unlike any other city in the world, even among fellow bohemian cities. it doesn’t have the parisian irreverent, bloody revolution of effortless, authentic artistry that comes out of the oven as “timeless.” nor does it have the careless desire for barefoot beauty (for the mere sake of beauty, regardless of who’s around to see it) that flows through the veins of lisbon. the soul of trujillo is one that beckons you to pause your mind, engage your senses to rest. she wants you to just take a stroll down pizarro st., and just live in the hustle of people shopping and working. she beckons you just strike up a conversation with a stranger next to you as you enjoy a “cafe con algarrobina.” she doesn’t care for plans, and if you would let her, she’ll show you life can be just a bit more enjoyable that way sometimes. 

la casona deza. one of my favorite cafes in trujillo.

and if you make these cookies, i hope you let trujillo hang out with you in the kitchen as you make them. how do you invite her in you ask? pour yourself a glass of your favorite wine. play some of your favorite music. invite someone over who is particularly gifted in the art of animated conversation. turn your phone off, and let yourself dance a little, even if you’re like me and don’t know how. she’ll be there. 

pic credit: julianna morasse

these are everyone’s favorites – my “everyone” anyways. they're one of the first bakes i really got down, and i’ve easily made thousands, if not more. these buttery, crumbly bites of heaven carry with them one of my first connections to my peruvian heritage, and some of my most endearing memories of friendships. they’re sweet familiarity for me in many more ways than just food. they represent self discovery, connection, and purpose. 

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tldr – recipe here

peruvian alfajores

ingredients:

cookie

245g bleached all purpose flour or unbleached pastry flour

30g sifted confectioners sugar (plus more for dusting)

230g unsalted butter, cold, cut into 1 cm cubes (best quality you can find. i use kerrygold or plugra)

3g fine sea salt (1/2 tsp)

manjar blanco filling

1 14 oz tin of sweetened condensed milk.

equipment:

2 half sheet pans lined with parchment paper

5cm (2”) round or fluted biscuit cutter

sifter

rolling pin

shallow pyrex baking dish

larger pan for water bath, i use a 12” cake pan. a roasting pan works too.

piping bag and round tip (optional)

stand mixer (optional but very helpful)

method:

make the manjar blanco a day before or several hours before.

manjar blanco

1. preheat oven to 425° F (220° C). Place an oven rack in the lower third of the oven

2. pour one can (14 ounces) of sweetened condensed milk into a glass shallow baking dish, like a pie dish.

3. Place the pie plate in a larger pan, and add hot water until it reaches halfway up the side of baking dish.

4. Cover the pie plate with aluminum foil and bake for 1 to 2 hours, or until brown and caramelized.

5. remove from the oven and let cool. Once cool, whisk until smooth.

6. Store in the refrigerator until cool.

note: if you’re pressed for time or just feeling lazy, the “la lechera” brand of canned dulce de leche is an acceptable alternative. so much so, that i use it all the time and only the most discerning people can tell the difference.

cookies/assembly

1. preheat oven to 350ºF, 180º C

2. in the bowl of a stand mixer, combine flour, sifted confectioner’s sugar and salt and mix well with a whisk. attach bowl to stand mixer fitted with flat beater.

3. with mixer running on lowest speed, add cubes of cold butter, one at a time. once all butter has been added, keep mixing until dough comes together in mass. this may take a while. the mixture will first look sandy like corn meal, then small clumps will begin to form before it comes together. keep mixer at lowest speed (stir speed on a kitchenaid) and do not increase speed.

4. once dough has come together, mix for 20 seconds longer and transfer dough to a sheet of plastic wrap and chill in the refrigerator for 15 minutes (this step is optional if your butter remained cold and your dough is firm. You may otherwise proceed immediately to roll the dough out.)

5. using a rolling pin, roll the dough out in between two sheets of minimally floured parchment paper to about 3-4 mm thickness, about an 1/8 of an inch.

6. if dough is very soft at this point, chill for 15 minutes. otherwise, cut out cookies with biscuit cutter dipped in flour and transfer to baking sheets, prick each cookie with a fork 3 times

7. bake for about 20 minutes, or until cookies are a very light golden brown and firm.

8. cool completely.

9. pipe or spread about 2tsp of manjar blanco on the flat side of a cookie and sandwich with the flat side of another cookie.

10. dust assembled cookies with powdered sugar and enjoy.

trips, scribbles, and crumbs: and so it begins.

identity.

i think of identity as an illusive and precious commodity, yet tragically ubiquitous. tragically so because although it is actually everywhere (or rather in everyone), few seem to find it, and even fewer seem to care. but the truth remains that there is divinity in each and every one of us. there is a unique magic deep beneath our skin that originates in the mind, influences the heart, and is expelled through our actions and emotions; that magic allows us to explore new horizons, yet come back to the familiar. it empowers us to solve life’s jigsaw puzzles; it draws us to other people’s divinity like moths to the flame. it creates in us values and morals; things to take a stand for and hills to die on. it instills in us the desire for legacy, and the curiosity for the beyond. it is after all, as much human to desire to live forever as it is to ultimately die. 

oh, there is a unique magic in our bones. a unique divinity in our cognizance. a unique eternity in our ambitions. a unique identity deep within us. 

but don’t let me fool you. i don’t actually know what i’m talking about, but i’m a student above anything else, and one that is happy to share what i’ve learned. 

this project will serve to answer questions that occasionally come back to gnaw at me in times of silence and solitude. “who am i?” and, “why does it even matter?”

although identity is never found in what we do, at least not exclusively, through trips, scribbles, and crumbs, i’ve gotten a good start of getting to the bottom of these questions. traveling has tested the parameters of my small world, challenging me to live in a bigger world. baking has served as a means of grounding me when my mind escapes my body, venturing off into its familiar labyrinths, and forced it to work with my hands for a common goal. writing has allowed me  to make sense of my inner achilles’ heel, and has diplomatically ended many wars between my heart and head. 

i don’t intend to teach you how to bake, or to give you top tips for traveling. but i do hope to encourage you to bake and travel anyway. i don’t intend on becoming your online life coach. but i hope you find and love yourself, and i hope you do so sooner than me.