Taking the Cake: Talange, France, January 2008

For us in south-central Pennsylvania, the day before Lent is known as Fasnaught Day, a tradition which we celebrate along with parts of Germany, Switzerland, and the Alsace region of France.  In times past, these traditional doughnuts were made to clear the kitchen of sugar and lard prior to the fasting season of Lent.

However, the Harrisburg area is getting a new pre-Lenton tradition, as reported in The Patriot-News on Wednesday, February 15: the king cake.  According to the article “King cake gets the Mardi Gras started,” this cake stems from a tradition imported straight from Louisiana.  It is oval; is often served in purple, green, and yellow frosting; and is embedded with a bean or plastic figurine to represent the baby Jesus sought after by the three kings, or magi, after his birth.  Traditionally, the person who was cut the slice with the figurine was crowned the king or queen for the day.

The Louisiana tradition is imported from an older one rooted in France, Belgium, and Spain.  I knew this cake in France as a galette des rois, sold pre-bagged with paper crowns from the Intermarche across the street and through a thin overgrown alleyway from the Lycee Gustave Eiffel in Talange where I lived.  When eating this cake, I felt that the term “cake” in the American sense was a misnomer; it’s more of a sweet brioche whose appeal lay in the possibility of becoming royalty for one moment.

I shared this cake with my friend Tobias on a cold hilarious night which involves us somehow acquiring two king cakes (note the two crowns) and wearing them both. Because of this, I’m skeptical of the central Pennsylvania version which is smeared with enough frosting to rival a coloring book — I remember this as a cake from simple times.  If the day before Lent is the season for indulgence, I’d rather use the king cake as an occasion for remembrance.

Cherry, Chocolate, and Chili Biscotti

Recipe (adapted from Art Smith’s Back to the Table: The Reunion of Food and Family by Art Smith):

8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter at room temperature
1 cup sugar
grated zest of 1 large orange
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups plus 3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons pure ground ancho chile powder (available at Wegman’s)
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 1/2 ounces coarsely chopped semisweet or bittersweet chocolate (I like Scharfenberger)
1/2 cup (2 ounces) coarsely chopped walnuts
1/2 cup (3 ounces) dried cherries

Position the racks in the top third and center of the oven and preheat to 350 degrees F.

Using a hand-held electric mixer set at high speed, beat the butter, sugar, and orange zest in a large bowl until well combined, about 3 minutes.  Beat in the eggs, one at a time, then the vanilla.

In a medium bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, chile powder, and salt to combine.  Using a wooden spoon, gradually beat in the butter mixture.  Work in the chocolate, walnuts, and cherries.

Divide the dough in half.  Using lightly floured hands on a floured work surface, form the dough into two 10 x 2-inch logs.  Place the logs on an ungreased large baking sheet, at least 2 inches apart.  Bake on the center rack until set and golden brown, about 30 minutes.  Remove from the oven and let cool on the baking sheet for 20 minutes.

Using a serrated knife and a sawing motion, carefully cut the logs into diagonal slices about 1/2 inch wide.  Place the slices on ungreased baking sheets.  Bake until the undersides of the biscotti are beginning to brown at the edges, about 8 minutes.  Turn the biscotti over.  Switch the positions of the baking sheets from top to bottom and front to back.  Continue baking until lightly browned on the other side, about 8 minutes.  Cool completely onbaking sheets.  The biscotti can be preapred up to 1 week ahead, cooled, and tightly covered in an airtight container stored at room temperature.

Makes about 28 biscotti.

Susan Smeal serves up samples at Saturday's Market, Middletown

Peter Piper’s Pickles, located at various Central PA markets depending on the weekday, features vats of vinegar and vegetables, including bread-and-butter pickles, dill pickles, garlic pickles, hot pickles, hot cherry peppers, and more.  The smoked-chipotle pickles are especially memorable: smoky and crisp, sparkling with heat and bright acidity — the perfect way to jazz up a turkey sandwich on Dimpflmeier 7 grain.

My German-Swiss ancestors would be proud.

Peter Piper’s Pickles
$4/pint, $7/quart

Tuesdays, Roots Market in Manheim Area #5
Wednesdays, Lewisburg Farmer’s Market, Lewisburg
Fridays, Green Dragon Building #1, Ephrata
Saturdays, Saturday’s Market, Middletown

Marty: (717) 682-2952
Peterpiperspapickles@yahoo.com

Rustic Apple Tart by Short & Sweet Bakery, Lemoyne

It’s likely that we Americans get the coffee-and-pastry breakfast from France, where baguette slices are spread with Nutella and dipped into bowls of morning Joe, and fresh croissants are eaten with hot chocolate by afternoon.  However, mass-produced Starbucks pound cake or stale Panera stick buns (with a dark roast in a travel mug) shouldn’t cut it for you.  Return to the pastries of your grandmother with a rustic apple tart made by Short & Sweet Bakery, Lemoyne, and served at Little Amps Coffee Roasters, Harrisburg.  It’s fresh apples folded into a flaky crust about  then sprinkled with sugar for just a touch of sweetness — perfectly paired with the richness of one of Little Amp’s house-roasted coffee or espresso drinks.  Also available for breakfast (and equally delicious) are biscotti, cookies, granola, macaroons, and quiches.

Little Amps Coffee Roasters
1836 Green Street
Harrisburg, PA 17102

Monday-Friday, 6:45am-2pm
Saturday, 8am-2pm

A respect for quality: I like that, especially at this lunchhour shop that proclaims its food is “better than Philly’s”: 1/2 pound hamburgers, cheeseburgers, cheese steaks, sandwiches, and salads.  Situated in a classic soda-style shop on Sixth Street in Harrisburg, this place is strict with its rules — cash only and patience are just a few — but they deliver, every time.  Just look at the narrow window of their opening hours, then drive past once to see how packed it is.  Then you’ll realize what this sign indicates — a quality burger that can help a restaurant defy business sense is definitely worth waiting for.

The Jackson House
1004 Sixth Street
Harrisburg, PA 17102
(717) 238-2730

Monday-Friday, 10:30am-2pm

Third Street, Harrisburg, at 1:30 A.M.

This article first appeared in the January 2011 issue of TheBurg, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

It’s 11:35 PM on Wednesday, December 7, and I haven’t left home at this odd of a weekday hour since Black Friday. I bend over my steering wheel and crane my neck toward the sky: still no snow.  Front Street is as clear as a country road, a sleek damp ribbon studded with lampposts.  The black jogging path runs beside a silver Susquehanna.  It’s a picturesque scene, but the weather forecast has been clear: snow advisory for Central Pennsylvania from 7pm to 7am tomorrow.

When snow is on the forecast, most of us slide into a familiar routine: check the quantity of milk in the fridge, the level of gas in the tank. For most of us, the routine stops there, except for the occasional glance at the sky. This is not the case for Harrisburg’s Department of Public Works, for whom the words “snow day” have an entirely different meaning.

Tonight, four men—Dave Spiroff, Enola; Rodney Keller, Hummelstown; Randy Sauder, Harrisburg; and David Jordan, Susquehanna township—have just arrived for work.  I join them in a utility building on South 19^th Street which is backlit by fog and orange light. Director Ernie Hoch sips coffee and shakes my hand, and the men greet me with a nod. “This is my A team,” says Hoch, by way of an introduction.  “These are the guys that I call first.”

During heavy blizzards, up to 45 men, CDL licensed or otherwise, can be called upon by the department to help clear the city of snow, rotating over 12 hour shifts.  Most snow removal strategies are systematic, including prioritizing primary and secondary streets, and mapping out the city into 8 sections to focus the work. However, trying to determine where to push the snow, or struggling to fit a snowplow down Penn Street, can make for white-knuckle work.

“There’s always that one street that you’re driving down with your heart pumping Kool-Aid,” says Spiroff, who has worked with the city for 16 years.

Tonight, expectations are minimal. The one- and five-ton salt trucks have already been loaded, the goal being to salt ramps and bridges and to keep a close eye on the roads near the river, where it’s colder. The crew scatters, taking their places among the city, and Hoch and I duck into a pick-up truck and drive up Cameron Street.  We’ve barely driven five minutes before Hoch checks the weather on his phone. “I actually think the snow’s passed over us,” he says suddenly. There is no regret in his voice. “I’m not disappointed.  It’s better to be proactive. The streets will be clear by rush hour.”

I will be awake again by 6:30 and part of that rush hour traffic that will move swiftly through a bitter cold sunrise.  The students that I teach will be disappointed to have not had a delay, and I will secretly regret that I can’t sleep in, either.  However, it’s clear that this privilege of safe driving has everything to do with the four trucks that are out on the streets right now, circulating like quiet watchmen, tracing the city silently beneath a snowless sky.

It’s two days after Christmas, the day that my extended Grove family gets together to exchange gifts wrapped in glittery paper and eat homemade ice cream cake off my grandmother’s Lenox china.  We’ve just finished our traditional supper of potato roll sandwiches, seven-layer salad, Kay & Ray’s potato chips, and homemade Chex mix served buffet-style, right to left, across Grandma’s kitchen counter, and I have just commented to somebody that I can mark my growing up like a timeline by recalling my annual reaction to this 25-year-old menu: the elementary school year I first put mayonnaise on my potato roll sandwich, the high school year during which I abstained from mayonnaise, the college years when I ate everything like normal again.

My mom, the piano teacher, has just sat down at Grandma’s upright piano to play Christmas carols.  One my one, my family puts down their dinner plates and surrounds her to sing, my father with his rich bass, my aunt’s contralto, my two brothers’ bass and tenor, my 90-year-old grandma’s warbling-yet-on-pitch soprano, and the alto and soprano parts that my mother, sister, and I seamlessly trade back and forth like playground candy.  Our voices blend like Brethren-in-Christ memories, smoothing over rough textures and varnished pews.  My immediate family used to sing together in front of the church on Sunday mornings, a fact which I’d almost forgotten, but by my mom’s elbow with my siblings pressed in around a hymnal that predates all of us, I somehow feel that if we were all to rise out of our seats and through the ceiling, our singing could shield us in a world of no sadness like a cord of three strands not easily broken.

I glance over my shoulder to find my boyfriend Jon standing slightly away from the group, his iPhone out, intently studying the screen.  “Who are you texting, hon?” I say, feeling hurt.

Jon glances up at me, surprised.  “I’m following the words,” he says, and then he joins in to the fourth verse of “O Come, All Ye Faithful,” an eager magnificent bass. I turn back around to face the open hymnal before me, a smile playing on my lips as we’re joined by my sister’s fiancé, and I flap my arms to get us all to laugh and sing the chorus a bit louder, lifting all of us into the night.

Grandma Charles's Ultimate Granola

ULTIMATE GRANOLA from The Ultimate Cookbook by Weinstein & Scarborough

Makes about 10 cups

1.  Start by positing the racks in the top and bottom thirds of the oven and preheating the oven to 350 degrees.

2.  Spread 6 cups rolled oats (not quick-cooking or steel-cut oats) on a very large baking sheet.  Toast in the top third of the oven for 10 minutes.  Transfer to a very large bowl.  Maintain the oven’s heat.

3.  Mix 2/3 cup honey and 1/3 cup canola oil in a small saucepan set over medium head.  When the mixture starts to steam or froth, take it off the heat and stir in 1 tablespoon vanilla extract.  Set aside to cool.

4.  As the mixture cools, stir 1/2 cup wheat germ, 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar, 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon, and 1 teaspoon salt into the toasted oats.

5.  Add 1/2 cup finely chopped walnuts and 1/2 cup powdered dry milk to the toasted oats and blend well.

6.  Finally, stir in the prepared honey and oil mixture.

7.  Spray two large baking sheets with nonstick spray.  Divide the oat mixture between the two baking sheets, spreading it to the corners.  Place the trays in the top and bottom thirds of the oven and bake for 10 minutes, stirring once.

8.  Reverse the trays top to bottom and back to front, and continue cooking until lightly browned and fragrant, about 10 more minutes, stirring once or twice.

9.  Place the baking sheets on wire racks.  Cool to room temperature on the trays without disturbing, about 1 1/2 hours.

10.  To store: Break up and seal in plastic bags or containers. The granola will keep in a dark, dry place at room temperature for up to 2 months.

This post is featured on Virtual Advent Calendar on December 23, 2011.

Also check out the in-house roasted coffee beans.  Ordering in bulk is available online.

5951 Linglestown Road
Harrisburg, PA 17112
(717) 526-4171

http://www.stthomasroaster.com/

Monday-Thursday: 7am-8pm
Friday-Saturday: 7am-10pm
Sunday: 9am-4pm

Sixteen loose-leaf teas are available at St. Thomas Roasters, Linglestown