Apple Fritters

Until a few days ago, I was an apple fritter virgin. Seriously, I'd never tasted one, always pointing to Boston creme or glazed donuts at the donut shop.  But looking to turn my surplus of new crop apples into something yummy, I decided to try my hand at these treats. I was delighted to discover how easy and delicious they are -- the gratification is nearly instant!

These are old-fashioned, modest fritters. There is but one tablespoon of sugar in the entire recipe; the sweetness is derived from the apples.

The DH, an apple fritter lover from way back, prefers the supersized and frosted apple fritters that gained popularity in America along with so many "over the top" versions of almost everything.  (Note: you can make these larger and frost them, but I wanted to prepare the recipe in the spirit in which it was intended.)

This is a very simple c. 1940s recipe, part of a collection I purchased at a stoop sale in Park Slope. It uses ingredients you probably already have (see the mis en place below) and take just minutes to prepare.



Mix the ingredients together in a single bowl.



Add the sliced apples.



Mix them in thoroughly. It will seem like there's not enough batter to cover the apples (there is) but that's the point -- the apples are the stars in this confection.



Drop by tablespoon into hot vegetable or canola oil, turning a few times until the fritters are golden brown.



Drain on paper towels...



...and, using a sieve, sprinkle them with confectioner's sugar.



What's inside



The Executive Record and Travel Guide in which the recipe author (Grace Johnson, a woman who lived on 10th Street) recorded all of her recipes. You can read the story of Grace and her neighbor Jackie, who hosted the stoop sale, here.



The original recipe. Below the image, I've written out the steps more clearly.




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Apple Fritters

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 ½ teaspoons baking powder

1 tablespoon sugar

Pinch of salt

1/3 cup milk

1 well-beaten egg

Two medium apples, pared, cored and cut into slices

Mix all ingredients except the apples. Combine well.  Add the apples, stirring into the batter. 

Heat oil in a large (I used a 12-inch frying pan, and about 1.5 inches of oil) until hot. Temperature, if you want to measure, should be about 370 degrees.  If you don’t have a thermometer, that’s fine. Just put a small amount of batter into the oil to test.

Drop the batter into the hot oil using a regular tablespoon.  I turned them over with a fork, and when golden brown, removed them to paper towels using a slotted spoon.

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Sprinkle them with confectioner’s sugar.  Enjoy!

A Honey of a Honey Cake

I'm back! After a really long hiatus (insert life-got-in-the-way excuses here), I'm thrilled to present the easiest, most delicious honey cake ever. And just in time for Rosh Hashanah. Honey cake, the traditional holiday dessert to symbolize a sweet new year, has a deservedly bad reputation. It's often dry and dense. Even my grandmother's version was nearly inedible without a gallon of milk to wash it down.  And she was a fabulous baker. 

This recipe, however, is a winner.  It is one of hundreds of recipes gifted to me a few years ago by the legendary Arthur Schwartz, and was sent to him by a listener who wrote: Now this is a honey cake! He'd given me a number of honey cake recipes, but I chose this one for its utter simplicity.




Start by beating the eggs and sugar until very, very light.  Add in the honey and oil, then alternate adding the flour mixture and coffee. Begin and end with the dry ingredients.



The batter is very thin. Pour into a greased loaf pan.  I just sprayed mine with Pam. It released pretty well, except for one small spot which, after I "repaired" it, was unnoticeable.  You could line the greased pan with parchment if you want to ensure a complete release.



Bake for about an hour. The edges will look a bit well done, but test with a skewer to ensure the center is cooked.



Let it cool, then slice and serve. It's even better the second day!



Some of my tasters, Cheryl and Alex. Baby Stellan is too young to enjoy the cake, though he's trying to grab it! Cheryl declared he cake moist and delicious and Alex finished off the loaf. The DH especially enjoyed the caramelized edges.



The recipe, below. I followed it exactly. The nuts I used were blanched slivered almonds, a tribute to my grandmother who always decorated her cake with whole almonds across the top of the loaf, like buttons running the length of the cake.

Grasshopper Pie

During college, in addition to protesting (it was the 1970s), studying, experimenting with all manner of things (again, the 1970s), I worked as a waitress in a couple of restaurants.  One, CJ's Tavern,  was in a mall on the outskirts of Madison, Wisconsin, to which I hitchhiked or took the bus. At CJ's, the cooks made everything from scratch -- I still remember the yeasty aroma from huge mixer where dough for the bread was kneaded every day. (I also recall on the rare occasions when both the owner and the head chef were not working, all of us going into the huge walk-in refrigerator and grabbing handfuls of the exotic-to-us fresh crab meat meant for the Crab Louie salad.  (Sorry about that.)

Anyway, at the end of each shift, we would all gather at the restaurant bar to count our tips while the bartender prepared Grasshoppers, a cocktail with creme de menthe, creme de cacao and ice cream, blended together so it was a dessert and cocktail in one. (I recently ordered a Grasshopper at a chic Manhattan restaurant and it was so modernized, it tasted nothing like the smooth, sweet cocktail confection of my memory.)

That's a long way to get to this vintage recipe for Grasshopper pie, but you can imagine my delight when I found one. It is extremely light and rather delicious and very easy to prepare. (A Google search revealed an even earlier version where a more traditional meringue is used instead of marshmallows.)

 Begin with chocolate wafers for the crust.

Crush them in a food processor or by placing them in a plastic bag and using a rolling pin, or skillet or wine bottle. Mix the crumbs with melted butter and press into an eight-inch pie pan, reserving some for the topping. Bake for about eight minutes.

Next, melt the marshmallows with the milk in a double boiler (or in a bowl set atop a saucepan of simmering water.

When melted, stir in the creme de cocoa and creme de menthe.

Pour the mixture into the crust, smoothing out the top. 

Add the reserved crumbs to decorate the top. Refrigerate for several hours.

Production notes: I followed this recipe exactly, except I baked the crust (at 350 F for about 8 to 12 minutes). Also, I'd suggest adding more of the liquors -- the taste was very subtle. If you want the pie to be green, just add a drop or two of green food coloring after adding in the liquors.

Family members enjoying the pie at our annual Jersey shore rendezvous last month.