Whoopie!

I have a confession to make. These were really supposed to be amazing chewy pumpkin toffee cookies. Apparently chewy and pumpkin cookies are notorious nemeses. Had I consulted the internet before attempting such a perilous undertaking I could have saved myself much heartache, wasted butter, and trays of puffy pumpkin "cookies" taunting me with their flagrant cakiness.

I felt like a failure. A fraud. What happened? Why did my cookies turn into cakes? It's all the pumpkin's fault. I learned that the high moisture content of pumpkin puree was the cause of my demise. There are two purported solutions: simmer the puree until the moisture is cooked out, or use pumpkin butter instead of puree.

Pumpkin Puree, I shake my fist at you

Well, what's done is done. I'll tackle chewy pumpkin cookies when my ego has had time to heal. In the meantime, what to do with these blasted cookie-cakes? Truth be told, while they made god-awful cookies in terms of texture, the flavor was what I was looking for -- full of pumpkin spice warmth and tasty toffee bits.

Toffee, we're still friends

Come to think of it, these cookie fails were quite successful muffin tops. And that's when it hit me. Whoopie pies! (Or shall I say whoopsie pies.) My first grade art teacher always said, "Make a mistake work for you," so this one goes out to you, Miss Morrow.

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting

I whipped up some Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting (which rocked if I do say so myself), and sandwiched a generous dollop between two of my pumpkin cookie-cakes. A finishing touch of some toffee bits along the edges and I had myself something to whoop about.

Pumpkin Toffee Whoop(s)ie Pies

Pumpkin Toffee Whoopie Pies
A pumpkin cookie whoopsie turns into a whoopie with some quick thinking and a dose of Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting (which, I am now convinced, can cure all baking woes).

Prep Time: 1 hour 20 minutes
Cook Time: 12 minutes
Total Time: 1 hour 32 minutes

Makes: about 8 whoopie pies

Ingredients:
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened to room temperature
1 cup dark brown sugar
1/2 cup (4 ounces) pumpkin puree
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 eggs, at room temperature
2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup cornstarch
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon allspice
8 ounces toffee bits

Preparation:

Sift together the flour, cornstarch, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice. Set aside.

Cream together the sugar and butter until fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, and mix to combine. Add pumpkin and vanilla, and mix together until smooth. (If it your mixture starts to look a bit curdled, it is likely because your eggs or butter were too cold, or because the eggs were added too quickly, causing the fat and water particles in the mixture to separate. If this happens, don't worry. Just continue with adding the dry ingredients…it should all smooth out.)

Add the dry ingredients to the wet mixture in thirds, mixing together until everything is incorporated.

Stir in the toffee bits, reserving 1/2 cup for garnishing. Cover the bowl of dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for an hour.

Make the Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting and stick it in the fridge to chill too.

Preheat the oven to 350º. Scoop the dough out using a trigger ice cream or cookie scoop and place on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. The cookie-cakes will spread, so keep it to 6 per baking sheet.

Bake for about 10-12 minutes or until the edges are brown and the center puffs up. Transfer to cooking rack immediately or else the toffee bits tend to stick. Let cool completely.

Put together your Whoopie Pies: Spread a big dollop of the Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting onto the bottom of one of the cookie-cakes using a butter knife or piping bag. Sandwich together by placing the bottom of a second cookie on top of the frosting. Roll the exposed frosting side of the whoopee pie over a plate of the reserved toffee bits so they stick. Enjoy!

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Frosting

Prep Time: 5 minutes
Cook Time: 0 minutes
Total Time: 5 minutes

Ingredients:

8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1/2 cup pumpkin puree
1 - 2 cups powdered sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon allspice

Preparation:

With an electric mixer, mix together the cream cheese and pumpkin puree until smooth, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl to ensure even mixing.

Add the vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice, and mix. Slowly add the powdered sugar until it's as sweet as you want. Refrigerate for an hour before using.

With a full contingent of Eastern European ancestors, I haven’t a Scandinavian gene in my body. But after two trips around Denmark and Sweden, I bonded so deeply with the food that I’ve been compelled to feed my addiction to herring, lingonberries and dark rye bread ever since. Mange tak (many thanks) to Berkeley’s Nordic House, for their steady supply of edible treasures from these far northern realms.

On a recent foray to their spacious San Pablo Avenue store, the festive atmosphere was evident, as Scandinavians of all stripes were stocking up on special foods for the holidays. Pia Klausen, whose father, Peter Caroe, started Nordic House in Oakland in 1962, was busily filling the shelves with cans of fish balls and jars of lingonberries. The elder Caroe, now 81, is still at the store helping out his daughter. In 2000, Pia and her husband took over the Oakland shop that shared the block with the now defunct Neldham’s Bakery. Last May, the couple bought and moved into this cheery, light-filled Berkeley space, where they offer made-to-order deli sandwiches, a selection of cheeses, house-made sausages, liver pate, meatballs, pork and lamb roll, as well as scores of imported foods from lefse (a Norwegian potato tortilla) to licorice candy.

Of course, they also carry the infamous lutefisk, the gelatinous, lye-cured, pungent Norwegian staple. DIY lutefisk-ers can even buy their own stockfish at Nordic House to make it at home.

But the friendly crowd of shoppers on this early December afternoon was focused on Christmas-themed comestibles. This basically translates to meat and that meat is most often pork. Each country has a specialty that is enjoyed for Christmas dinner and throughout the season: Norwegian pork ribs, Swedish brined ham and Danish pork with crispy skin. With a book of pre-orders growing longer by the day, Pia has had 100 Swedish hams brining in barrels in her back room since November.

Danish pork with crispy skin

Other traditional meat dishes include Norwegian cured, dried and salted leg of lamb fenalår (akin to prosciutto) that is placed on a table for passersby to cut off a little chunk everyday, and pinnekjøtt – dried, salted lamb ribs that are soaked in water for a day and then steamed over birch twigs.

On this Saturday, Pia’s husband, Arve is in the kitchen with assorted cousins spending the day butchering and tying the special Danish pork roasts which are prized for their crackly skin. Arve, who works for Otis elevator in San Francisco by day, is Norwegian. He and Pia met when his mother worked for Pia’s father at the store in Oakland. He is quick to point out that the wrappings on his fingers are not because they are cut, but to protect him from the effects of hand-tying strings around 100 pork roasts a day. These will be frozen, and then shipped across the country in dry ice to Danes as far away as Florida. In weeks to come, they will produce more pork roasts for local customers to buy fresh.

Pia, who speaks fluent Danish and spent a year in the old country after graduating from school, tells me about one of the most beloved holiday rituals involving the classic Christmas dessert, fluffy rice pudding made with whipped cream and drizzled with warm cherry sauce. While slivered almonds are mixed into the pudding, there is only one whole (blanched) almond hiding somewhere in the serving bowl. The lucky diner whose portion contains the whole almond wins a prize, usually a marzipan pig.

rice pudding photo courtesy of Malene Thyssen, wikimedia commons

Many Nordic House regulars are older, first-generation immigrants, but now younger family members are taking over the cooking responsibilities. Second-generation Dane, Sandra Pedersen, drove in from Concord with her husband, but was on the cell with her father who wanted to make sure she was buying all the necessities, including: brown gravy, liver pate and the rice pudding mix.

“Yes, we always hid the almond in the pudding,” she says smiling. “It was a big game. Everyone in the family would make a show of pretending to find the lucky almond and hide it in their cheek, or try to talk without opening their mouths or feign secreting something in their napkin. This is the first time I am making the dinner for my parents, who are getting older now.”

My last trip to Stockholm was a couple of Decembers ago and I still remember the eerie sensation of the sky going dark around 4pm. But instead of pouring tea, my hosts handed me a cup of another warm libation, with a welcome kick: glögg, spiced mulled wine and other spirits. The hot crimson liquid also holds a handful of raisins and almonds. Glögg (or gløgg in Danish) does not have a single recipe but varies among families, usually containing some combination of cinnamon, ginger, cloves, orange peel and cardamom. The red wine (Pia says not to use your best vintage -- her family poured from a big Gallo jug) can be empowered with the addition of brandy, vodka or aquavit. Heat the liquid, but don’t boil, as you wouldn’t want to lose the “warming powers” of all that alcohol.

To make it easy: Nordic House sells a bottled glögg mix to get you started, and my Danish friend Kim’s secret is to soak the almonds and raisins overnight in a mixture of vodka and port.

Gløgg parties are common throughout Scandinavia during the entire the month of December. In Denmark, the typical snack to accompany gløgg is æbleskiver -- spherical popovers made in a special cast-iron pan with rounded indentations. The moist egg-y orbs are unsweetened and traditionally eaten sprinkled with powdered sugar and dipped in strawberry jam. Nordic House sells both the pan and a packaged dry mix to which you add eggs and milk. Another traditional gløgg accompaniment are thin flower-shaped ginger cookies, sold under the brand-name “Anna.” Wait a minute…maybe I could be related after all.

NORDIC HOUSE
2709 San Pablo Ave.
Berkeley, CA 94702
1-510-705-1932 or
1-800-854-6435

Fruitcake gets a bad rap. You ask anyone from young to old and they’ll turn up their nose, proclaiming that it’s “dry” or “heavy” or that they’re scared of those neon-colored fruits. Well the times have changed and fruitcake, if made well, can be moist, a little bit boozy and incredibly tasty. At least that’s the case at Arizmendi on 9th Avenue in San Francisco.

Happy Arizmendi bakers: Erin Singer, Suet Cheng, Aeri Swendson

While it seems like many of our families avoid fruitcake, it's been around for quite some time. In fact, the name can actually be traced back as far as the Middle Ages with the oldest reference going back to Roman times where they often included pomegranate seeds, pine nuts, and raisins. Since the bread is preserved with high levels of booze, crusaders and hunters were rumored to have carried this type of cake to sustain themselves over long periods of time away from home. All of the neon-colored fruits that folks fear today came much later down the line.

At Arizmendi, you won’t see any of those dried fruits either. Instead, you’ll find small warmly-scented loaves packed with dried fruits and nuts from Rainbow Grocery across town. They use currants, lemon zest, orange zest, raisins, papaya, pineapple, apricots, almonds and cherries along with a smattering of spices like cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice. If you haven’t yet tried it, this is your year. The 9th Avenue location is doing 400 small loaves and they sell out quickly, so make sure to get down there beginning the first week of December to snag yours. They’ll hold until whenever you’re ready to serve it (the brandy functions as a preserver) -- some of the staff actually hang onto their loaves year after year and come in to re-dip them during the annual fruitcake-dipping process.

The fruitcake-making process at Arizmendi

So what’s the secret? The best fruitcakes are started months in advance and dipped in liquor numerous times to allow the flavors to really mature and develop. Arizmendi began making the fruitcakes well over two months ago and they go through a three-dip cycle in brandy. First, the staff spends time cutting up all of the dried fruits, making the dough, and folding it all together. Suet Cheng says, “It’s mostly fruit and just enough batter to hold it altogether." Baker Erin Singer confirms that it’s almost like a scone dough, packed with so many fruits and nuts that it's really barely held together. After all of the dry ingredients are combined, it’s baked and they allow it to cool for 10-20 minutes. While it’s warm they do the first soak in brandy.

Sneaking a taste of Arizmendi's fruitcake

The first soak is the longest, meaning they allow each loaf to hang out for 4-5 minutes in the tub of brandy. Erin says, “they soak it up like crazy the first time around.” The subsequent soakings are for a shorter amount of time, usually 1-2 minutes. After soaking, the bakers wrap the loaves in cheesecloth and plastic wrap and store them for a month. When it’s time to re-dip, they take off the plastic and re-dip with the cheesecloth still on.

I had the chance to try the fruitcake after its last dipping and it was boozier than it will be when you buy it because it was straight out of the brandy. Chatting with the head baker over a cup of coffee and a small slice, I told her how it was the best fruitcake I'd ever had. In fact, I didn't realize fruitcake could be this good. If you could compare the flavor to a color, it’d be the deepest amber imaginable: intensely warm yet simultaneously dark and boozy and packed with chunks of fruit and nuts. And they’re heavy! With each soaking they take on more and more of the liquid making them incredibly moist and dense but in a wonderful-with-coffee way, not a like-a-rock way.

Sure, people do it differently. And it’s been done for hundreds of years which is why, I think, I’m so drawn to fruitcake. The thought that grandmothers and farm hands were dipping fruitcakes in much the same way that I experienced on this sunny San Francisco morning seems important to me. It’s a continuation of a holiday tradition that holds a lot of meaning for some, and little for others. If it’s not part of your cultural or family tradition, I encourage you to make some changes this year. I sure am.

Get Your Fruitcake:
Fruitcakes will go on sale the first week of December and you can call and order one/reserve or just walk in and pick one up. The earlier, the better; they do sell out. Each fruitcake is $14.

Arizmendi Bakery
1331 9th Avenue (between Irving and Judah)
San Francisco, CA 94122
(415)566-3117

Hours:
Tuesday-Friday: 7am-7pm
Saturday-Sunday: 7:30am-6pm
Monday: CLOSED

It’s been over five months since Natalie Galatzer decided to shutter her bike delivery pie business, Bike Basket Pies. And life already looks a lot different. She’s not schlepping around the Mission doing deliveries, she’s not working well into the night rolling out dough, and she’s not stressing about the seasonality of persimmons or how manageable her to-do list is for the next day. The best thing is that she’s not thinking about tomorrow today—she’s really enjoying today for today, including the ability to make social plans and travel.

Natalie’s currently working at two Bay Area restaurants waiting tables and thinking about what’s next. But the difference is she’s thinking big picture, not about tomorrow’s ingredient lists. And there’s freedom in that space to just breathe, reconsider, and reflect. One thing’s for sure: Natalie’s pretty certain the big picture won't include baking. She always thought that she wanted to be a baker, but isn’t convinced anymore. The act of turning something she loved into a business, made it quickly about the outcome and not the process she once loved. As you can imagine, this eventually killed the joy she once found in baking.

But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t looked back. In between her shifts waiting tables and scheming up new ideas, she needed a creative project and felt like she owed a little something to her loyal pie customers. So she decided to write a pie booklet, entitled Bike Basket Pies: How to Make Handheld Pies for Bicycle Delivery, with 14 of her favorite and most popular recipes and detailed instructions and illustrations on the process of making small (and large) pies. It was time that the recipes lived on somewhere other than within her computer spreadsheets. It was time to give something back.

After two years in business, you can imagine how difficult it was to choose a mere fourteen recipes for the booklet. Natalie organized all of her recipes not just by the seasons but actually by the months she’d make them–heavily dictated by the produce available in the Bay Area during that time. She knew she wanted to structure the book using the seasons, but she also wanted each recipe to be uniquely her own. For instance, in terms of pumpkin pie, there are limited things you can do with a pumpkin pie recipe. Her pumpkin, while wonderful, doesn’t differ all that much from my pumpkin or your mother’s pumpkin. But there are so many of Natalie’s pies that are the exact opposite and that’s what she decided to highlight in her book.

When you hold the booklet in your hands, you’ll notice the charming illustrations by Minty Lewis. They truly make Natalie’s words and recipes come alive: from drawings of the actual pies to step-by-step illustrated instructions on forming small pies and larger pies. Beyond the illustrations, you’ll notice there are 14 recipes (3 for each season along with a few savories). Yes, the Shaker Orange recipe is in there. As is the Pear Ginger. In addition to the recipes, there are little sections on Making Dough, Rolling Out Dough, Forming Small Pies, and Making a 9” Pie. There are clear mini sections on Temperatures and Baking Times, too. You’re in good hands here. While some people find pie-making overwhelming, Natlalie’s assured tone and concise instructions and Minty’s sweet illustrations will force you out of any pie rut. Guaranteed.

The booklet took Natalie a little over a month to write with one of the bigger challenges being how to decide what parts of the pie-making process to illustrate, how much detailed information to provide for the home baker, and how to best layout each step for her readers. The easiest way for her to tackle this was to spend a day making pie and having a friend photograph the process. Then they went through to decide what parts of the process seemed like an actual step and what they could assume the reader would already understand.

When asked about proprietary recipes and whether she was nervous about them being out and available to the public, Natalie replied, “What am I going to do with them? A lot about it is technique and practice anyway, and I’m no longer making pies for people so now I can give then the tools to do it on their own and still enjoy what I make.”

So is Natalie’s day-to-day life one without pie? Largely, yes. She doesn’t make them anymore and doesn’t find herself craving them. That will probably come back in time. For now, she’s excited to produce something tangible that’s different in the sense that it’s a living, lasting artifact. A piece of pie, while lovely in the moment, won’t last for generations. Natalie’s book of recipes will. And lucky for us, she’s decided to share.

Buy the Booklet: Bike Basket Pies: How to Make Handheld Pies for Bicycle Delivery is available for order now on Natalie's website. Orders placed from now until November 29th will be shipped on December 1st. In addition, keep your eyes peeled as Natalie has plans to approach area book shops who may be interested in stocking it.

Join Natalie at Pot + Pantry to help celebrate the release of the booklet. The party is BYOPie with champagne provided, and booklets for sale. Tuesday, November 29th, 6:30 to 8 pm. RSVP here.

Yams, red beans, creamed corn, white fungus, grass jelly, black glutinous rice. Perhaps these ingredients don’t immediately conjure up images of tempting sweet treats, but in steamy Singapore—with the addition of shaved ice, fresh fruit, palm sugar, colorful syrups, coconut milk and other goodies—they morph into a medley of exotic desserts.

I’m in Singapore for a week, tagging along with my husband, who is presenting at a conference. I couldn’t miss a trip to this unabashedly food-obsessed city, where you really can’t walk two steps without bumping into tantalizing aromas emanating from cafes, food stands and hawker centers (organized street food vendors). In this modern multi-cultural society, where impossibly high angular skyscrapers tower over warrens of ethnic neighborhood shops, Chinese, Indian, Malay residents and foreign visitors all join in a tireless search for the best grub the city has to offer—in local parlance: “die-die-must-try.”

Singaporean specialties abound, like chili-crab, fish-head curry, oyster omelet, chicken rice and a multitude of variations on spicy noodles. But for my few days here, I need a quest with a smaller focus, so why not a sweet one, sampling as many desserts as I can? (Actually “desserts” is somewhat of a misnomer, as these sweet treats are more often consumed as afternoon or late night snacks.)

Straddling the equator, with temperatures often in the 90s and the air thick with tropical humidity, icy treats offer natural refreshment in Singapore’s year-round heat wave. Although many have roots in neighboring cultures, the fantastical shapes and colors of these cooling combinations make them Singaporean classics.

Ice Kachang provides a refreshing pyramid of pleasure

Ice Kachang -- the quintessential Singaporean dessert takes a mountain of shaved ice, douses it with a rainbow of syrups and sprinkles on toppings such as soft red beans and creamed corn. I order mine with a dusting of chopped peanuts for an extra dimension of crunch.

creamy, chewy, icy Chendol

Chendol -- the key ingredient in this icy treat is the jelly-like green noodles flavored with pandan leaf, layered with cooked red beans, chewy palm seeds, coconut milk and a sweet brown syrup.

Every Singapore resident I ask offers encouragement and advice on my sweet-seeking journey. They also caution me not to eat too many treats with creamy, coconut milk. (“Not good for the tummy.”) Luckily, there is a profusion of more delicate sweet dishes to choose from.

Slippery sweet Ice Jelly

Ice Jelly -- utterly light and refreshing: shaved ice with cold translucent jelly globules. I have mine topped with mango.

Double steamed papaya in syrup

Steamed Papaya with Snow Fungus and Almond -- served in light syrup. The snow fungus adds the texture of a dainty, frilly sponge. I enjoy it cold, but it also comes hot, as do several other desserts with a hot/cold option.

When the sky turns black and hurls lighting bolts, thunderclaps and pounding rain, it’s an invitation to duck into a cheerful neon-bordered café for a warm bowl of comfort, such as sweet black glutinous rice cooked into a velvety pudding, drizzled with a swirl of coconut milk.

Other warming choices:

comforting and chewy Bubor Cha Cha

Bubor Cha Cha -- chunks of cooked yam and sweet potato with colored bits of chewy coconut jelly swimming in warm coconut milk.

Peanut soup or Black sesame soup – topped with almond cream.

Chinese culture often cites the health benefits of certain foods to balance one’s yin/yang, for specific ailments or populations (e.g. pregnant women). A sign in Food Republic’s Ice Shop proclaims Red Beans with Lotus seeds “great for getting rid of dark circles under the eyes,” so there is no way I can pass that up.

The places where I sample these treats vary as much as the flavors and forms they take. From fancy food courts in high-rise shopping meccas, like Wisma Atria’s Food Republic to beloved, old-fashioned, open-air Hawker Centres (Maxwell Road in Chinatown, Tekka Center in Little India and Lau Pa Sat in the financial district).

A visit to the National Museum of Singapore’s vibrant Living Gallery of Food provides the back-story to the city’s obsession with street food. Itinerant street vendors have always played an important role in this multi-cultural city. Since the 19th century, they traveled door-to-door preparing and peddling their wares or setting up carts and stands on the riverside. In the 1980s, as part of a project to clean up the river, Prime Minister Lee mandated that hawkers leave the riverside and take their places in designated hawker centers.

Scores of hawker centers, which are wildly popular with locals, are scattered around the city, each features vendors from various cultures, side by side, selling freshly made dishes at rock-bottom prices. You can have some Indian roti with your Malaysian beef rendang and finish off with sweet Chinese ah bolin (glutinous rice balls filled with yam, bean or sesame seed paste).

After spending an hour immersed in the museum’s videos, oral histories and food artifacts, I gain an appreciation for the context of Singapore’s food focus. As one hawker interviewed in a museum video explains, “Food makes us all equal, rich and poor, people of all races.”

Even though, I've tasted a dozen of Singapore’s sweet treats, there are many more to sample on my next visit…

Gillian Shaw of Black Jet Baking Co. (left), Jaynelle St. Jean of Pietisserie (right)

The Bay Area has a lot going for it. Our summer lasts longer than most, fresh produce and farmers markets abound, and around every corner there’s something interesting going on—from museums to music festivals to a new hike or a scenic drive. The local food community is fiercely supportive, and small businesses and food trucks are popping up in neighborhoods all around San Francisco and the East Bay. Jaynelle St. Jean, owner of Oakland’s sweetest pie window Pietisserie, and Gillian Shaw of Black Jet Bakery are among those businesses.

St. Jean started baking in high school, but never thought she’d actually have a business featuring pie. And she didn’t necessarily set out to do so, either. One day, she decided to give pie away out of the window of her mom’s house in San Francisco: “I dressed up the window with striped curtains and I served pie by the slice to anyone walking by on a glass plate—the point was that I’d get to meet them and they’d stay there. People loved it. I loved it.”

After moving around to a number of commercial kitchens and locations to sell her pies (St. Jean even does “Random Acts of Sweetness,” showing up unexpectedly at parks and street corners to give away slices), she has slowly become known as “the pie lady” and is constantly thinking about how to grow the little pie window from its Friday home in Old Oakland’s Swan Market to a bigger, more permanent home.

“I think that what I found is that pie does for other people exactly what it does for me. It’s about what it represents– about sustenance,” St. Jean says. “I used to be a legal assistant. I used to do a lot of thing, actually. But now, at the end of the day I make pie. It makes people happy. I get psyched about how I can impact people’s day and mood.”

Making Pies at Pietisserie

Gillian Shaw of San Francisco’s Black Jet Baking Co. shares a similar experience in starting small, moving around, and hustling to gain customers and brand recognition. Shaw moved to San Francisco from the East Coast to attend pastry school. After graduating, she started baking at Moose’s in North Beach and then moved on to The Liberty Café where she really learned how to make pie. There Shaw also met Max Newman, who now works closely with her at Black Jet, and made an important realization: “I’m a baker, not a pastry chef. I like rustic.”

Shaw rented out a commercial kitchen and began pumping out nostalgic sweets like pop-tarts and devil dogs to anyone who would try them.

“When I first started Black Jet, I was working two jobs and the insanity of that was too much--it was time to quit,” Shaw said. There was a lot of juggling and not a lot of sleep. “When your dream is coming true, it’s kind of scary. It doesn’t feel like a Disney movie. You ask yourself, what if I mess this up? And those days of driving around with Black Jet samples and putting yourself out there and really selling it...that was really challenging.”

Today all of the sampling and small-scale deliveries have paid off and Shaw has a much-coveted booth at San Francisco’s Ferry Building Marketplace, which attracts six million visitors each year. You’d think she’d start settling in. She’s not.

While she feel very much at home in the spot in The Ferry Building, Black Jet Bakery has outgrown their kitchen space and are working to find a brick-and-mortar that would house a kitchen and a storefront, hopefully, in a year’s time. “We definitely want a home,” Shaw said. “As much as the commercial kitchen is collaborative and great in that way, we want a neighborhood spot. The Liberty Café gave us a taste of what that means. Liberty was an open baking space and I loved getting to see all of the customers. We really want that.”

Pietisserie Lattice Work

St. Jean is also working towards brick-and-mortar. “I think that Pietisserie offers great pie but also offers an experience, and for that to be fully articulated, that has to happen in a place,” she said. “I’m concerned with neighborhoods and being a good neighbor and living a certain pace.”

Neighborhoods are also important to Shaw. She loves the loyal food community in San Francisco, and having the opportunity to bounce ideas off of friends like Sara Spearin of Dynamo Donuts and Eileen Hassi of Ritual Coffee. It’s work, sure. But at the end of the day, it’s not just about you anymore. When you’re in the food business and you’re producing a product that sustains and nourishes others, it’s bigger than that. It’s about your friends, the people on your block, the visitors you meet who write letters telling you how much they love your pie; it’s about your city; it’s about the life you choose to create for yourself in the community you’ve come to love. A community that loves you back and will constantly welcome you home.

Find Jaynelle at Swann’s Market every Friday from her 7-foot tall, 5-foot wide window in addition to other locations around the Bay Area. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook for updates on specials and events.
Photos of Pietisserie courtesy of Robin Jolin.

Find Gillian Shaw at her Black Jet Baking Co. booth in the San Francisco Ferry Building, and enjoy her treats at the following Bay Area spots. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook for updates on specials and events.
Photos of Gillian Shaw courtesy of Paige Green.

Halloween isn’t always easy when you’re an adult who longs to go trick-or-treating, especially if you don’t have a child who you can live vicariously through or enough chutzpah to don your best little piggie costume and knock on doors yourself.

I left the costume in the car as I scoured the city of San Francisco for clever Halloween treats that adults can claim as their own. After wading through what seemed like dozens of boring pumpkin cookies and ratcheting my blood sugar up several notches, I came away with three stops serving grown-ups the kind of treats that keep us feeling like big kids. They’re all much better than snarfling some stale Dots from a kid.

DeLise Dessert Café’s pumpkin cupcake and bloody berry bar. Photo courtesy of DeLise Dessert Café)

DeLise Dessert Café falls below the radar of many San Franciscans due to its proximity to Fisherman’s Wharf, but is well worth a stop at any time of year for homemade ice cream, cookies, cakes, and other sweets, all presented in small portions so as not to induce guilt. Proprietors Dennis and Eloise Leung are having fun this season with three items inspired by All Hallows’ Eve. Their triple pumpkin ice cream is made with Dogfish Head Pumpkin Ale, candied pumpkin seed, and pumpkin puree. A “bloody berry bar” has a chocolate pine nut crust and a raspberry lemon custard on top. And there’s also a pumpkin cupcake for the 21 and over set, garnished with a maple bourbon frosting and candied bacon bits.

Fillmore Bakeshop’s psychedelic pumpkin Photo: Tamara Palmer)

When we stopped by Fillmore Bakeshop, Elena Basagio-Carpenter (who runs the place with her father Doug Basagio) was still figuring out a number of Halloween-themed items, her experiments in chocolate slowed due to our stretch of Indian Summer. Offerings include a pumpkin macaron, a crisped rice pumpkin with a caramel stem, dried fruit bark, and some incredibly psychedelic hollow chocolate pumpkins filled with fresh chocolate truffles.

Humphry Slocombe’s Bad-Ass Pumpkin Pie Sundae. Photo courtesy of Humphry Slocombe

Fans of Humphry Slocombe would probably not be surprised to learn that Jake Godby’s ice cream shop takes Halloween very seriously, with flavors firmly geared to adults both in their ingredient combinations and the pop culture references that some of them make. Spiders from Mars, for example, has a milk chocolate ice cream base that’s sprinkled with “spider webs” made from meringue. Rosemary’s Baby gets a boost from fresh rosemary and a pine nut swirl. The bloody red Hibiscus sorbet is known for the moment as O-Negative. Meanwhile, there’s a Candy Apple flavor (apple ice cream with caramel swirl), the Devil’s Deal (house made red velvet cake in a cream cheese ice cream base), and pumpkin ice cream, which gets a sophisticated twist with the inclusions of Chinese five spice: Star anise, fennel seed, Szechuan peppercorn, cinnamon, and clove. The latter also goes into their Bad-Ass Pumpkin Pie Sundae, crowned with hot butterscotch sauce, cinnamon whipped cream, and house made pie crumble.

The best part of all? You don’t need to wait until Halloween to get your fill of the holiday.

Taro Mochi Cake from Hanalei Roadside Truck

Taro. Isn’t that some kind of sweet potato that’s made into expensive chips? Or a purplish goop, called poi, served at Hawaiian luaus that no one really eats?

I admit those were my assumptions until a recent trip to Kauai where I stumbled upon a divine sweet: a moist, spongy taro mochi cake made with coconut milk and rice flour that I bought from a roadside truck in Hanalei.

So enamored was I with this enchanting taro treat, that I signed on for a tour of the nearby family-run taro farm which produced the purple-flecked delicacy.

Following our guide through lush, windswept green fields among waving heart-shaped taro fronds, I learned that Hawaiian taro farmers face a host of challenges, including hurricanes, flash floods, hungry wild boar and an infestation of apple snails. But they persevere because taro has been a revered food in the islands for over a thousand years.

In fact, Hawaiian folklore considers taro to be “the elder brother” of all Hawaiians and since it is disrespectful to fight in front of an elder, when a bowl of poi is uncovered, all argument must stop.

Taro also happens to be one of the world’s earliest cultivated plants. Easily digestible, a good source of fiber, Vitamin C, E, B6, calcium, potassium and iron, it is featured in the cuisines of more than two-dozen countries from Brazil to China. Every part of the plant is cooked and consumed: leaves are stir-fried, steamed or made into soup; stems sautéed, boiled or ground; and the roots (technically termed corms) are steamed, fried, mashed, and appear in everything from appetizers to desserts.

When I said a tearful goodbye to my sweet little Hawaiian taro mochi cake and returned stateside, I set myself a quest -- I love quests -- to unearth (pardon the pun) a range of international dishes made from this worldwide staple. Shouldn’t be too hard in the mini-United Nations we call the East Bay.

Fried Taro Roll

First stop: Berkeley’s Green Papaya Thai Vegetarian Cuisine, a pleasant café with a long menu, for their fried taro appetizer, a generous plate of warm sliced taro roll made with tapioca and rice flours and red beans. Deep-fried in a paper-thin sheet of bean curd, its crispy golden skin contrasts nicely with the creamy filling, in a typical lavender-taro-hue.

Taro plays a starring role in many Chinese dishes, including a taro cake traditionally eaten for Chinese New Years. Even McDonald’s has caught on; their restaurants in China sell taro pies.

Two dim sum classics highlight the taro root. Squat squares of pan-fried taro cake are made from rice flour and dried scallops, shrimp, mushrooms and Chinese bacon or sausage. But the more eye-catching morsels are taro dumplings. These pork-filled balls have a wispy, lacy shell that results from deep-frying the thick coating of boiled mashed taro.

I recently sampled some yummy dumplings at Peony in Oakland Chinatown; with their fluffy, crunchy coating, it was like biting into a crispy cloud. (Hint: for the best experience, ask for them to be brought piping hot).

Vietnamese cuisine includes taro in spring rolls, soups, and desserts. Piedmont Avenue’s stylish Xyclo offers appetizers in which taro plays a supporting role; in their Xyclo roll, it’s tucked inside crispy, cigar shaped tubes along with finely chopped chicken, shrimp, carrots, mushrooms and glass noodles.

Besides poi, the sacred mixture of pounded taro root and water, the taro plant is an essential part of another Hawaiian culinary tradition: laulau, which utilizes its leaves. Pork or chicken and salted butterfish are wrapped in taro leaves and then enfolded in inedible ti leaves. The chunky green packages are steamed for several hours, turning the taro leaves to a soft, smoky (and vitamin rich) mush.

Berkeley’s Wiki Wiki Hawaiian BBQ serves up hefty portions of island favorites to the starving-student crowd. My pork laulau actually wasn’t too bad. When I inquired how they prepare it, I was told that frozen pre-made laulaus are shipped from Hawaii. Have with scoop of rice and macaroni salad for the full island experience.

For an easy DIY luau, head to Berkeley’s Tokyo Fish Market. They carry frozen Hawaiian pork or chicken laulau with no added chemicals or preservatives. You steam them at home.

On the sweet side, taro turns up in a myriad of mauve incarnations:
The ubiquitous taro bubble tea drink originated in Taiwan. Taro powder provides a thickener, a nutty taste and the light purple color. I’m partial to the bubble tea at Albany’s Tay Tah Café on Solano Avenue.

A warming Chinese dessert for a cold evening: chunks of cooked taro in a bowl of hot sago (think tapioca) pudding. My go-to unassuming Chinese dessert spot: Oakland’s Yummy Guide.

My teen-age daughter turned me on to my favorite taro treat: Yogurtland’s taro frozen yogurt. One of the regular flavors in their two Berkeley locations, its tartness forms the perfect base for fruit and topping creations.

I am not done trekking the taro trail; there are many ethnic taro specialties yet to taste:

Toranguk, a Korean soup traditionally served at Chuseok, the harvest holiday.

Sinigang, the tamarind-based national stew of the Philippines.

And a range of Indian regional dishes including leaf pancake, stem saag and a spicy taro curry with prawn.

Anyone know a good Maldivian restaurant? I hear natives of the Maldives (stunning islands in the Indian Ocean) eat their cooked taro with grated coconut, chili paste and fish soup.

Outside Lands Windmill -- recycle, compost, trash.
All Photos: Wendy Goodfriend

Outside Lands, now in it's fourth year, drew nearly 180,000 visitors this past weekend. I was one of them. On Saturday morning, as I walked along a dirt path through Lindley Meadow into a eucalyptus grove with parachutes and rope swings dangling from the trees, I thought of how this seemed a cross between Burning Man and the board game Candy Land. Ok, Outside Lands was fifty degrees cooler than Burning Man and it's in the middle of Golden Gate Park, rather than the desert. Still, the music festival has this collective feel where everyone comes together to appreciate artistic expression, be it music, food, wine or other artistic endeavors. Then, everyone leaves the land no worse for wear, hopefully. In fact, this was the most organized compost and recycling program I have ever seen at a big outdoor event.

Wind Chime Swing. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

Choco Lands. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

Outside Lands also has this feeling that everything happening on the periphery is just as interesting as the bigger events, whether they are major rock bands or pyrotechnic shows. And just like Candy Land, curvy dirt paths take you from one fun land to the next. Instead of Candy Cane Forest and Gum Drop Mountain you have Food Truck Forest, Choco Lands, Wine Lands and Eco Lands. Wander down a dirt path away from the polo fields, which hosted the likes of Phish and Arcade Fire, and you might end up, as I did, amidst cypress and eucalyptus trees watching a tiny carny opera with mime faced performers dressed in kilts playing Appalachian ballads and doing their own version of the River Dance. Before the opera I visited Eco Lands, which honors San Francisco's commitment to sustainability, with all sorts of educational booths, valet bike parking and emerging artists performing on a solar powered stage. This year introduced urban agriculture to Outside Lands with yet another land to discover, Farm Lands. Here you could play games like "Veggie Twister," take an urban gardening class and munch on organic watermelon slices from Full Belly Farms.

Arcade Fire. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

Flotsam's Wonder World Opera. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

Full Belly Farms Farmers Market. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

With my appetite whetted by healthy produce, I set out to explore the higher caloric choices at Outside Lands. There are more than fifty local restaurants and food trucks at this event. For a little hog in the fog action, one could try Flour + Water's porchetta sandwiches. Head Chef Thomas McNaughton said, because they only work with small farms, it took six months to prepare for the concert. Eleven acres of arugula had to be planted and, to be honest, I couldn't listen when he explained how many pigs from near Nicassio were slaughtered, let's just say it was enough to make 7,000 sandwiches over the weekend. McNaughton said the idea was also to create a little buzz for Flour + Water's two new projects, also in the Mission, Salumeria and Central Kitchen. Maybe I just knew too much about the porchetta sandwiches but I ended up trying a different meal with pork, Korean tacos from Namu. They were not really tacos at all but rather pork or chicken wrapped in seaweed with a delicious kim chee remoulade. I also had a taste of a veggie samosa from New Ganges Indian Food and a grilled cheese sandwich, with peppers, from The American Grilled Cheese Kitchen. They were both good but not as interesting as the "tacos." You can also read about my time at Wine Lands where i discovered some very delicious small lot wineries.

Thomas McNaughton and porchetta sandwich assembly line. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

The American Grilled Cheese Kitchen. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

I am thinking Outside Lands might be worth another visit next year. I mean, what other festival can you listen to the arena-rock jams of English Band Muse while sipping a spicy Pinot Noir preceded by a worm composting workshop?

Muse. Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

Related posts:
• Outside Lands Recap 2011 at KQED Arts
• Guide to Outside Lands 2011 at KQED Arts

You may remember reading about the Oakland sister duo, Wendy and Susan Lieu, the founders of Socola Chocolatier several years ago on Bay Area Bites.

They're still going strong, and Wendy and Susan are celebrating the upcoming launch of their new Sriracha Chili Truffles that are making their debut this fall with a wacky and whimsical online video series. For the Love of Chocolate is a "telenovela about how Miss Artisan Chocolate Bar ("Yes, I am dressed up as a giant chocolate bar," said Susan in her press release) and racy Sir Ra Cha Cha from the Tender Loins of SF find and fail at love in the Foodie World."

Susan took a break from her comedic Miss Artisan Chocolate Bar duties to answer a few questions about her project.

What inspired you to create this series?

Socola Chocolatier is a very small artisan chocolate company in San Francisco. We don't have huge marketing budgets. But we do have a lot of creativity, energy, and access to amazing artists in San Francisco. When I went to a Kearny Street Workshop - 18 Reasons show "A Sensory Feast: Local Flavors" featuring Amy Ho's costumes, I knew we had a match in art and humor. Since we were about to launch our Sriracha Chili truffles, I thought this would be a creative way to show how these specific chocolates were "born": through a telenovela series!

What was the best part of working on it?

The best part was the adventure creating it. We shot all three episodes in 3 days with a Flip Cam and the camera function on a Canon camera. No fancy equipment; just a vision with a storyboard, great costumes by Amy Ho, props by Jessica Sum, and videography by Kelly Robinson (my intern for the summer Harvard Class of 2013, majoring in Neuroscience no less!). The best part was having the storyboard and shooting for the day. During the "mugging" scene, we found the actor for the Piñata on the street. If you look closely, there is a man in the background thinking I am actually getting hurt and need help. We ran into Wilfred the Dog (FX) at the Embarcadero and did improv with him. We partnered with local businesses like Bi-Rite Market, Barber Lounge and even Gondala Servicio at Lake Merritt (Episode 2!) to shoot some hilarious scenes. The best part is it's San Francisco -- most people didn't even give us a second glance -- just another day in San Francisco with a giant bar of chocolate running around!!!

Have you received any real-life invitations for a date?

3. LOL. I think the dog owner of Wilfred was trying to hit on me to take me out to dinner. And at the screening I got some post Facebook "hit-ons" (definitely not a poke though!) which was awkward since I introduced them to my boyfriend. But it's San Francisco -- anything goes!

Their three-part series, which launched last week, can be viewed on their YouTube channel. A new episode will premiere on Tuesday. Don't miss Susan's priceless chocolate meltdown montage that includes a hilarious moment with Claes Oldenburg's "Cupid's Span" sculpture.