Candy

Nutty, rich, and just a touch sweet, these candied coconut ribbons are part of the regular assortment of sweets offered to guests during Tet. When I was growing up, the holiday was filled with visits to the homes of relatives and close friends. While the adults chatted and wished one another well for the year, I satiated myself with the sweetmeats and confections. These candied coconut ribbons were my favorites. Several years ago, I decided to make my own from a loosely written recipe found in an old Vietnamese cookbook. I mailed batches to my mother (a coconut lover) and invited her criticisms. After several rounds, I arrived at this recipe. Don’t be daunted by the need to crack open a coconut, as it is much easier than it sounds. In the end, you will be rewarded by the sweet coconut aroma that fills your kitchen and by a big batch of tasty candied coconut.

These sweetmeats are not traditional New Year fare, but since navel oranges are at their peak in California during Tet, the peels have found a place in my annual candy-making production. I use blemish-free organic oranges because the peel is what matters in this recipe. (Scrub the oranges well if they have a waxy coating.) The pith is included, but all the bitterness is removed in the candying process. For a touch of decadence, dip the peels in melted dark chocolate.

A lifelong praline devotee, I’d never seen a white version until longtime customers and friends Diane and John B. Connally III introduced me to Ginny Marye Sharman. I lamented that I’d been searching in vain for a great, new, party-worthy praline, when Ginny said, “I have the one for you. It’s my daddy’s.” She sent me the recipe with the following note, “Chubby Marye, my daddy, was from Alexandria, Louisiana, and loved to cook! He always made his white pralines on cold winter evenings. I learned to make them watching him. It’s a family tradition that he learned from his mother, Mama Dee.” I tried it immediately. Not only was it the easiest praline recipe I’ve ever encountered, it was also one of the tastiest. My mother’s recipe, for example, demands intensive beating with a wooden spoon. Ginny’s recipe takes a beating, but for only half the time. Chubby’s pralines make a fine finale for any party; or wrap them up in waxed paper, seal with an embossed sticker, pile them in a decorative bowl, and hand them out at the end of the evening as favors. (Pictured on page 164, top tray.)

Remember the peanut butter cup commercials? Man and woman, so happy in their busy day, walking around with snacks in their hands, the sky above the color of a blue slushie the houses plastered in marzipan pastels, a happy-sounding tune of endless comic surprise piped through the air, the world a perfect place. Then—whoopsie, so clumsy of me—they smack into each other, exchanging flavors, and a wonderful new treat is born. Introducing nuts to chocolate is all well and fine and, sure, millions have been made on the combination. But if only the candymakers had the temerity to take the next step, something truly delicious could have come of it: chocolate, nuts, and a faint wave of chile heat all strummed like harp strings by the dexterous fingers of a luscious salt. Use this recipe to explore new dimensions of your favorite chocolate by trying it with a variety of salts. Choose the type and quantity of chile depending on your desire for heat.

Clear the decks. Salt brittle brings salt and sugar together as an edible mosaic. Eat it on its own, or serve a shard of salt brittle alongside paprika pork chops. Serve with fruit salad or endive salad with walnuts and Roquefort cheese. Crumble over unsweetened yogurt, oatmeal, or chili con carne. Himalayan salt is hard to use because—well, because it’s hard—but its rocky texture and gemstone beauty contribute brilliantly to brittle.

Like the inventor of the airplane, the creator of fleur de sel caramels is contested. Was it George Cayley, father of aerodynamics, who invented it in 1799; or Jean-Marie Le Bris in his horse-drawn “albatros artificiel”; or John J. Montgomery in his glider; or Otto Lilienthal, Octave Chanute, or Percy Pilcher? Some say it was the Wright brothers. The arguments tend to get political and technical. The French have been making fleur de sel caramels for some time. Some say salted caramel came from the New World, where salt water was used in confectionary. But it’s all but certain they never made use of great salt. However, the Americans, prone to exaggeration, have succeeded in burning the sugar to the point where the caramel treads somewhere between a dessert topping and a meal. Blend burnt caramel with good salt and little stars of flavor glimmer from within the impenetrable vastness of the caramel. Look skyward. Machines for soaring among the stars might never have been invented had the salted burnt caramel come first.

Mix hazelnut praline with Fudge Sauce (page 136) for your own makeshift Nutella with little bits of texture in every bite.

This recipe involves heating two separate amounts of sugar, each one to a different temperature. Why do we do it that way? Because that’s the correct way to make a nougat. If there were a way around it, I’m pretty sure we would have found it by now and dear diaried you about it in the technique portion of this lovely book. We use peanut butter nougat in several of our pies, the most popular being the candy bar pie.

This, obviously, is made from a seed, not a nut, but it works just the same. We use pepitas, or hulled pumpkin seeds. We’ve tried making them from raw shelled seeds scooped straight from a pumpkin, but to no avail.

All of our nut brittles are extraordinarily simple. We use skinned (blanched) nuts, unroasted and unsalted. They take one part nuts to two parts sugar and about ten minutes of time. Nut brittles are one of few things we measure by volume, so no gram weights are needed here. There will always be a small amount of caramel and nut left in the bottom of your pan after making the brittle. No worries! We’ve never met a person who can make this brittle without leaving a trace of it behind. Here’s a hint: the best way to clean hardened caramel out of a pan is by putting water in it and boiling it. The hot water will dissolve the caramel and the pan will be a snap to clean.

The gentle heat supplied by the slow cooker is an effortless way to temper chocolate without having to use a double boiler, standing over the pot to keep careful watch. With the small amount of chocolate required, the recipe works better in a 3-quart slow cooker rather than a 5-quart, for better control over the melting process. The recipe can also be doubled for double the chocolate indulgence.

These bars are so good that you will have to hide them from your friends if you want them to last more than 5 minutes. They are super easy to make. In fact, the hardest part about these melt-in-your-mouth bars is waiting for them to cool enough to eat.

When I was at culinary school in France, my instructor advised adding a bit of salt when candying citrus peel. When I asked why, he said that for some reason it made the peel soften, but he couldn’t explain why. So although it may be just a culinary superstition, I’ve added salt ever since. If you aren’t superstitious, simply toss the salt over your shoulder and candy the lemons without it. Although it’s not required equipment, a candy thermometer will show you when the lemon slices are done. Fit the saucepan with the thermometer before starting. When the peel is candied, it should read 225°F (107°C).

White truffles are especially fun to fold into Chocolate Ice Cream (pages 26 and 28) for both color contrast and taste.

These marshmallows are chewy and compact, designed to be folded into ice cream. They are indispensable in Rocky Road Ice Cream (page 26) but can be deliciously added to lots of other flavors as well. To measure powdered gelatin, open the envelopes and measure the granules with a tablespoon. These are best made in a heavy-duty stand mixer.

This is a terrific recipe for preserving fresh cherries during their relatively short season. As they cook, their ruby red juices gush out and continue to deepen in color until they thicken to a flavorful syrup. Before folding them into ice cream, you’ll want to make sure they’re dry, since the liquid will muddy the ice cream. Drain the cherries in a strainer for at least 1 hour first, until they are sticky and dry (save the syrup for drizzling over ice cream). Then coarsely chop the cherries, or fold them into the ice cream whole as you remove it from the machine. Candied cherries are excellent on top of Lemon Sherbet (page 116) or Olive Oil Ice Cream (page 83), and on any homemade ice cream sundae you make as well.