Berlin Reified | Food, design and life in Berlin

A birthday spread

I suppose this lopsided shot will have to serve as summary of yesterday's spread, because after this one test snap to check the batteries had recharged, I didn't pick up the camera again once. How do you manage to capture the party while being in the party? My favorite was the rhubarb trifle, barely visible in the bottom left, but there were also brownies, a Boston cream pie, a berry pavlova, tiny fiery cheese scones larded with onions and black olives, homemade oatcakes with a Bärlauch, scallion, cress and black pepper spread, and, of course, friends brought even more delectable goodies.

 

Rhubarb trifle

This trifle was a happy accident. I was making sponge layers for my Boston cream pie and didn't think to line or flour the pans; the cakes, though beautiful, broke into shards when I went to unmould them. So I transferred those pieces to the bottom of a cut-glass bowl and decided to make trifle. You can use any sponge cake recipe for the bottom layer; mine was the Gold Cake out of the Joy of Cooking.

For the fruit layer, I trimmed a kilogram of rhubarb and chopped it into chunks, then placed it in a gratin dish, sprinkled it with half a cup (100 grams) of sugar, covered the dish tightly with foil and baked it for just under an hour. Lift the rhubarb out with a slotted spoon to keep the cake from getting too soggy.

Custard felt redudant with the Boston cream pie simply groaning with crème patisserie, so I skipped it and just spooned on 200 ml of softly whipped cream. Next time I would boil down the rhubarb juices left in the pan and mix a tablespoon or so into the cream, for what I imagine as a gentle (not lurid!) pink.

This year's rhubarb

This rhubarb from the Zionskirchplatz market became a rhubarb crumble last night. I've tried fiddly recipes with ground almonds and oat flakes, but my mother-in-law's recipe is simplicity itself. Slice a kilogram of rhubarb into the bottom of a gratin pan and mix in a little white sugar. Rub 200 grams of butter into 400 grams of 550 white flour, then toss in 200 grams of white sugar. Spread the crumble over the rhubarb, then sprinkle with a spoonful of demerra brown sugar. Slide into the waiting oven (375 F/190 C) for 40 minutes or so, and serve with a pitcher of milk or cream.

Zionskirchplatz Farmers Market, Thursdays from noon to 6:30pm

The cup that cheers

Just the briefest pause before going back to the suitcases (and that's Sonnentor's Ingwer Sonne in the cup, in case you're curious). If the skies allow, I'll be on a plane to Washington DC early tomorrow morning, with a long weekend in Brooklyn to follow. Tips for both places are as always welcome! & I will try to post while gone, though I make no promises.

Cake mix (Baking on the go)

So gratifying to see your ingredients rowed and know you'll soon fill a friend's kitchen with the warm smells of baking. Buttermilk cake for dinner at Dilek's, buttermilk biscuits for a lunchtime playdate at Caitlin's. What better way to pass these last snowy January days than by the oven? (For a long time I used 550 flour when recipes called for all-purpose, now I'm excited about Bohlenser Mühle's 1050, which worked a treat on these two occasions.)

Plum cobbler

The Zwetschgen at the market are a bit soft these days, and best transformed into cobbler. The layer of fruit goes jamlike with a bit of heat, and the pillowy crispness of the scone topping is just what you want to sink your spoon into, confronted with an early dusk.

Summer polenta gratin

I've called this summer polenta gratin though the light is decidedly autumnal now. Such beautiful peppers in the shops just now!

Edible flowers at the Vietnamese shop

I popped into my local Asian shop yesterday afternoon to buy some chilis for a green onion bhaji and couldn't resist picking up a packet of these edible flowers as well. The shopowner told me they're often eaten in Vietnam and Thailand. I followed her simple recipe when I got home, thinly slicing some garlic and sauteeing it in a bit of oil before rinsing the blossoms and tossing them in. They turned a radiant green in a minute, and on the plate they were crisp and delicious, with the slightest hint of perfume.

Blueberry-filled yogurt cake

Did everyone know that you could cook up blueberries and a bit of sugar for, oh, three minutes, and suddenly have the most fabulous filling to sandwich between layers of your French yogurt cake? Because I did not, and could not believe how fabulous and easy it was, and had to pause in my spooning of berries and aromatic syrup onto the first layer, to take a picture of its glorious untidy beauty before the second layer prettied everything up. I used about a cup and a half of berries in total, cooking half a cup with two tablespoons of sugar, then stirring the remainder of fruit in off the heat (this meant most berries retained their shape). I also used just over half a cup of sugar instead of the full cup the recipe calls for, and no-one seemed to notice.

Really I should tell you all about my talk at Interesting and about all the exploring I did yesterday in Mitte, but this just briefly for now. And friends in Berlin, you might want to drop me a line to see if I'm free tomorrow or the day after, because there are leftovers.

Spring onion bhaji

Such good spring onions everywhere, so densely green and so seldom flabby or brown-tipped! I can't resist buying a few bunches for another round of spring onion bhaji, a dish that became a treat while my mother visited for a few weeks after S was born. You remove the roots and slice the greens, give them a cursory wash, then set them aside while you start the phodni. This requires just a few tablespoons of olive oil heated over high heat for a minute or two; add a teaspoon of brown mustard seeds, half a tablespoon of turmeric powder, two or three fresh red chilis (topped and tailed), a dash of hing (or asafoetida powder, or Teufelsdreck, as the Germans have it). Let this spice mixture sputter for a minute, then add in the green onion and stir virgorously once and then again now and then until it's all cooked down and delicious. Sprinkle with salt and rice flour, then stir again and let sit till everything melds and grows crisp. Serve, for choice, stuffed into pita breads, though the bhaji is also delicious alone. And see, there is a recipe or two left in this old girl yet! PS: I mean it when I say it cooks down: count on one bunch of spring onions per person.

French yogurt cupcakes

Nothing extraordinary, not even anything very new, just some cupcakes I made last week for a buffalo-themed potluck, using Bobalis buffalo milk yogurt, naturellement, and Dorie Greenspan's recipe. My head has felt overfull of late and inevitably I've done too little, but I'm catching up now, putting together the photographs that will accompany my little talk at Interesting Berlin and baking cookies and writing emails and, oh, all the usual things.

By the way, have you got a favorite stationery shop in Berlin? I need to buy the perfect blank book to be S's birthday book, brimful of love, this year and for future Junes too.