Category Archives: thanksgiving

Cornbread Stuffing with Apples & Fennel {Gluten-Free}

This year will be an unusual Thanksgiving for my family. Not only will all of us be together over the holiday, but we’re also going to be home in Fort Worth and we’re going to make the big meal ourselves. I honestly can’t remember the last time we did all that–I think I was eleven!

Since we’ll be cooking in my mom’s kitchen, she’s the lady in charge. So far, she’s requested a Butterscotch Cream Pie. Other than that, nothing’s set in stone.* None of us are particularly fond of turkey, so we’re not married to the traditional meal.

Note: I mean, there will be Artichoke Dip. It’s not the holidays without Artichoke Dip.

Now, I can live without the traditional sweet potatoes, the cranberry sauce, and even the rolls. I generally don’t care for gravy, so that’s no biggie. But stuffing…well, it’s my lone non-negotiable side dish.

I’ve already got a great stuffing recipe in the archives–the base is homemade cream biscuits! I love that recipe, but I’m going in a different direction this year. My little sister has cut gluten out of her diet over the past several months, so this year, I’m using my accidentally-gluten-free Southern-Style Cornbread as the base, and doctoring it up with apples and fennel. So freaking good, y’all.

Cornbread Stuffing with Apple & Fennel might be my new favorite Thanksgiving side. The southern cornbread makes for a super savory base, but the pops of sweetness from the apples and fennel keep it interesting. Adding to the flavor are all the aromatics (celery, onion, garlic) and herbs (parsley, sage, thyme) you’d expect in a stuffing, plus some vegetable stock. Oh, and butter–a whole stick. It’s holiday food, not everyday food.

My grandmother (the one with the biscuits and Lemon Meringue Pie) made a cornbread dressing that was so dense and moist that it could be sliced into squares. (It also had hard-boiled eggs in it. 😬😫😑) This recipe has very little in common with hers. While it’s definitely moist and buttery, this stuffing cannot be sliced and requires a serving spoon.

With Thanksgiving just fifteen days away, I can’t wait to share this with my family. The cornbread base gives a nod to our Texan heritage, the apples and fennel are seasonal and delicious, and it’s all gluten-free, so everyone can enjoy it. Oh, and it can’t be sliced and stacked like a pyramid on a serving dish, so we’ve got something for which to be thankful.

Cornbread Stuffing with Apple & Fennel {Gluten-Free}
makes 8 servings

Southern-Style Cornbread:
2 cups yellow cornmeal
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon Kosher or sea salt
1 1/2 cups buttermilk
2 large eggs, room temperature
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1 tablespoon bacon fat (or neutral-flavored oil)

Preheat oven to 425F.
In a large mixing bowl, whisk together cornmeal, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

Combine buttermilk and eggs in a measuring cup. Whisk together with a fork. Fold into dry ingredients. Fold in melted butter.

Heat an 8- or 9-inch oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat for at least 3 minutes. Add bacon fat and coat. Add cornbread batter. Cook for one minute before transferring to the oven. Bake for 20-22 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Cool completely in the pan on a rack.

For the stuffing:
1 recipe Southern-Style Cornbread, cut into cubes, stale
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, divided
1 medium white onion, small diced
2-3 stalks celery, small diced
1 bulb fennel, trimmed and small diced
2 large baking apples, peeled and small diced
3 large cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh sage
1 tablespoon minced fresh thyme leaves
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
2-2 1/2 cups vegetable broth, divided
1/2-3/4 teaspoon Kosher or sea salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

Remove cornbread from the pan and slice into 1/2-inch cubes. Spread cubes onto a dry sheet pan and let sit uncovered overnight.

Preheat oven to 350F. Butter a 9×13-inch casserole. Set aside.

Melt 4 tablespoons of butter a heavy skillet over medium heat. Add onion, celery, fennel, apples, and garlic, and cook for about 10 minutes or until soft. Add sage, thyme, and parsley and cook until fragrant, about a minute. Pour in 1 cup of vegetable broth and turn the heat up to medium high. Once liquid comes to a simmer, remove pan from heat.

Transfer dry cornbread cubes to a large mixing bowl. Pour in the vegetable mixture and mix until combined. Add 1/2 teaspoon of salt and pepper. Taste and adjust seasonings.

Melt 4 tablespoons butter and add to the stuffing. Fold in an additional 1-1 1/2 cups vegetable broth, depending on your taste.

Cover pan with foil. Bake 30 minutes. Remove foil and bake an additional 10 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes before serving.

Chocolate Mousse Cake

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A friend of mine ordered a Chocolate Mousse Cake a couple of weeks ago. I had never made one, but said yes and then figured it out. I occasionally like to live on the edge.

As with most baking experiments, I anticipated that it’d either be terribly difficult/never to be made again, or I’d pick up a new skill. What I didn’t expect was how easy this cake would be.

I mean really, really easy.

Like so easy, you’re going to wonder why you haven’t been making this for years.

Chocolate Mousse Cake does take time–the cake base has to cool and there’s a long chill once the mousse layer is added–but none of the steps are difficult at all. And at the end, you have this three-layered beauty of a cake that’s airy on the top, rich on the bottom, and completely loaded with chocolate flavor. Oh. My. Goodness.

The base of this cake is my grain-free version of Molly Wizenberg’s Winning Hearts & Minds Cake. This seven-ingredient, no-mixer cake is delightfully easy and so delicious, it’s stupid. I have made it so many times that I have memorized the recipe–once I make it for someone, they request it over and over. I’ve yet to find anyone who doesn’t love it! It’s really hard to improve on this chocolate cake, but piling it high with chocolate mousse is a good start 😊

And speaking of chocolate mousse, this one is super simple to make. There’s no gelatin or egg whites here–this recipe is basically just chocolate, whipped cream, and a cocoa powder slurry. Just gently fold it all together and pile into the pan with the cake. Press some plastic wrap to the top and chill it until the mousse is firm.

When the mousse is ready, run a knife around the edge of the pan and release the springform. Whip some cream, pile it onto the mousse and spread it into an even layer. Smooth the edges, scatter some chocolate curls over the top, and try not to eat the whole thing. With dense cake, fluffy chocolate mousse, and whipped cream, it’s a real concern 🤣

Y’all. Y’all! Chocolate Mousse Cake is going to be my new go-to for all occasions. The ease-to-“OMG” ratio is off the charts! This cake is just as at home at a casual fall picnic as it is at a dinner party. And since it’s gluten-free, it might be one dessert that everyone at your Thanksgiving table can agree on.

Chocolate Mousse Cake: it brings people together.

Chocolate Mousse Cake {Grain-Free}
mousse adapted from Brown Eyed Baker
makes one 9-inch round cake

Cake:
7 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
7 ounces unsalted European-style butter, cut into small pieces
1 1/3 cups granulated sugar
5 large eggs, room temperature
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon cocoa powder (natural or Dutch process)
1/2 teaspoon Kosher or sea salt

Mousse:
7 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
2 tablespoons cocoa powder (natural or Dutch process)
3 tablespoons hot tap water
1 1/2 cups heavy cream, cold
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 tablespoons confectioner’s sugar
pinch of Kosher or sea salt

Whipped Cream & Garnish:
1 1/2 cups heavy cream, cold
2 tablespoons confectioner’s sugar
chocolate curls, for garnish (optional)

READ THE ENTIRE RECIPE BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Preheat oven to 375F. Grease a 9-inch springform pan with butter. Line the bottom with parchment and grease again. Set aside.

In a double boiler or the microwave, melt dark chocolate and butter together, stirring occasionally, until smooth. Whisk in sugar. Allow to cool slightly.

Whisk in one egg at a time, combining completely after each addition. Stir in vanilla. Whisk in cocoa powder and salt, scraping down the bowl as necessary. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake for 20-25 minutes, until the center jiggles just slightly when the pan is jostled. Let cool completely in the pan on a rack, about 90 minutes to 2 hours. Do not remove the springform. Cake may be made up to a day in advance.

Make the mousse. In a double boiler or the microwave, melt dark chocolate, stirring occasionally, until smooth. Let cool to room temperature.

In a small bowl, whisk together cocoa powder and hot tap water.

In a large mixing bowl, combine heavy cream, vanilla, confectioner’s sugar, and salt. Use an electric mixer to whip the mixture on low for 30 seconds before whipping on high for 1-2 minutes, or until stiff peaks form.

Transfer melted chocolate to a medium-large mixing bowl. Use a silicone spatula or wooden spoon to stir the cocoa powder mixture and 1/3 of the whipped cream into the chocolate. Gently fold the remaining whipped cream into the chocolate until no white streaks remain.

Pile the mousse on top of the cooled cake (still in the pan). Spread it into an even layer and tap the pan on the counter a few times to release any large air bubbles. Stick a layer of plastic wrap to the surface of the mousse. Refrigerate for at least 3 hours or overnight.

Remove cake from the refrigerator and let sit at room temperature for 30 minutes. Remove plastic wrap. Run a thin, flexible knife dipped in warm water around the edge of the pan before removing the springform.

Make the whipped cream. Combine heavy cream and confectioner’s sugar in a large mixing bowl. Use an electric mixer to whip the mixture on low for 30 seconds before whipping on high for 1-2 minutes, or until stiff peaks form.

Pile whipped cream onto the cake before spreading it into an even layer. Use a knife dipped in warm water to smooth the outer edge of the cake. Garnish with chocolate curls, if desired.

Serve cake immediately or refrigerate. For clean slices, dip the knife in warm water and wipe dry between cuts.

Maple Pear Tart

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Halloween is over and Thanksgiving is coming up. You know what that means…

Pie Season!!! 🍁 🍃 🍂🍁 🍃🍂🍁🍃🍂🍁🍃🍂🍁🍃🍂

In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, I’ll be sharing a few new pie recipes, along with some other desserts, appetizers, and a Turkey Day side dish or two 😍😍😍

Today’s recipe isn’t exactly a pie–it’s a tart. A Maple Pear Tart. Like maple-glazed pears baked on the crispiest, butteriest crust that’s ever come out of my kitchen. This tart looks very fancy, but it is super easy to make. It’s literally easier than pie.

Let’s talk about the crust. It’s a simplified, homemade version of puff pastry, often called “Rough Puff.” I’ve used it for cheater croissants and for a few other things for which most people use frozen pastry, and I am consistently amazed that something I made in my kitchen could be so deeply buttery and flaky. Oh y’all, this is goooood.

If the idea of making your own puff pastry–even the easy version–puts fear in your heart, you may use the frozen all-butter stuff. But really, there is nothing to fear. This tart is easier than pie, and this pastry dough is easier than pie dough.

Just cut European-style butter into some flour and little salt…

add some cold milk…

fold it all into a dough…

pat it into a rectangle…

and give it a few rolls and folds.

Wrap your rough puff pastry in plastic and throw it in the fridge for an hour (or up to two days). When you’re ready to make your tart, peel two pears and slice them as thinly as you can. You might want to break out your mandolin. If you don’t have one of those handy gadgets (I don’t), you can use a chef’s knife. Just slice the pears as. thin. as. possible.

Grab that cold pastry from the fridge, unfold it, and roll it into a 10×14″ rectangle. Fold the edges over and crimp ‘em, then dock the center with a fork. It doesn’t have to be beautiful–mine certainly wasn’t.

Seriously, it doesn’t matter at all. Sliced pears, a bit of sugar and butter cover all manner of ugly crimping.

Bake it up! Some big bubbles may form despite the docked crust–just pop ‘em with a knife. It’s way fun.

Paint the pears with a couple of tablespoons of maple syrup.

YUM.

Slice the tart into eight pieces and serve it to people you love.

Isn’t that beautiful?! Those pears and that golden pastry are as visually stunning as they are delicious.

Oh, I just love Pie Season.

Maple Pear Tart
makes one tart

Rough Puff Pastry:
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon Kosher or sea salt
5 ounces unsalted European-style butter, very cold, cut into small pieces
1/4 cup water or milk, very cold

For the tart:
2 large baking pears (I used a Bosc and a Bartlett)
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, very cold, cut into small pieces
2 tablespoons pure maple syrup

For serving:
whipped cream (optional)

Make the pastry. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together flour and salt. Use a pastry blender or two forks to cut butter into dry ingredients until the largest pieces are the size of small peas. Pour in cold water or milk and stir with a silicone spatula or wooden spoon until a shaggy dough forms.

Flour a surface and a rolling pin. Turn dough out onto surface, and use your hands to pat it into a rough rectangle. Roll the dough into an 8×10″ rectangle. Fold dough in thirds, and give it one quarter turn. Roll into an 8×10″ rectangle again, fold, and turn. Repeat rolling, folding, and turning until it has been done six times total. Wrap folded dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least one hour, or up to 48 hours.

Make the tart. Place an oven rack in the center position. Preheat oven to 400F. Line a rimmed quarter-sheet pan or jelly roll pan with parchment.

Flour a surface and a rolling pin. Unfold dough. Roll dough out to 10×14-inch rectangle. Transfer dough to the prepared pan. Fold edges over about 1 inch and crimp with a fork. Dock center of the dough with a fork. Refrigerate while you prepare the pears.

Peel pears and slice in half lengthwise. Remove stems and seeds. Using a knife or mandolin, slice pears as thinly as possible, about 1/8-1/16 of an inch. Arrange pear slices decoratively over the crust. Scatter sugar over the top and dot with butter. Bake 28-30 minutes, until edges are puffed and golden brown. Large bubbles may form during baking. Just pop them with a fork or sharp knife.

Let tart cool completely in the pan on a rack. Use parchment to remove tart to a cutting board. Remove parchment. Slice into pieces. Serve immediately with whipped cream, if desired.

Tart is best eaten the day it’s made. Pastry will soften after several hours.

On Gratitude

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Thanksgiving is almost here. In the last few weeks, I’ve posted three new pie recipes, my “ideal” stuffing, and even a couple of holiday breakfast recommendations. I toiled over cranberry sauce this past weekend in a last ditch effort to give you another recipe for your turkey dinners, but realized that you had likely nailed down your menus already.

So today, I have no recipe to share or any pie-making tips. No, today I have something much more important: gratitude. That’s what this holiday is really about anyway. The big meal is nice and all, but it’s not what makes Thanksgiving…well, Thanksgiving.

I’ve mentioned before that 2016 has been a rough year for me. It started off with the amicable end to a meaningful romantic relationship and has been a wild ride ever since. I moved. I switched careers (again). I worked entirely too much. I mourned.

When things don’t go your way, it’s easy to get sullen and nasty. You think too hard about the state of your life and all the things you don’t have instead of the things you do, and suddenly you’re miserable. And people should be allowed to be miserable without explanation. But the thing about misery is that it doesn’t hurt anyone else–it only hurts the person feeling it.

I won’t say that I haven’t been a miserable wreck at all this year. That simply isn’t true. But I have made a point of looking for the good, even if the only decent thing that happened that week is that my bodega finally started carrying the 12-ounce cans of Sugar-Free Red Bull.* If, every night, I can think of one good thing that happened that day, then I must be doing alright. But I have a lot more than one thing for which to be grateful.

*This hasn’t actually happened, but a girl can dream.

1. I am grateful for my family. I have not always been the best sister or daughter. I have put my family through a lot in the last 31 years. But they have always stood up for me and sometimes done things that seemed impossible, and for that I am thankful. This year, my mom came up to New York to help me move. I called to ask in January, and before I could even finish the sentence, she said “I’ll book a ticket.” I had barely packed and it was absolutely freezing, but she never complained once. My parents gave me the best birthday gift ever–they partially funded my girls’ trip to Swans Island, Maine. I really needed that week with my friends. My sisters are my heroes. They have taken more than their fair share of crazy phone calls. Our running text chain is my favorite thing on earth. How lucky that we were all born with the same sense of humor. Bottom line: I won the lottery on families. I have no idea how I got so lucky.

2. I have the best friends in the world. When your life falls apart, it’s your friends who help you put it back together. I could elaborate, but there are too many things to say. And so, I’ll just say thank you.

3. I get to cook and bake all day everyday. When I started really getting into baking, I was working as a nanny. While every family I’ve worked for has allowed me to do some cooking for them, I haven’t really had my heart in full-time childcare in years. When I was feeling stuck professionally earlier this year, a personal chef job seemingly fell out of the sky just when I needed it most. Now, I bake at home in the mornings and cook for a family of four in the afternoons. It’s definitely exhausting, but my heart is in it.

4. I live in New York. I have literally always wanted to live here. I had an idea nine years ago that being a New Yorker would be glamorous, and it is sometimes. The rest of the time, it’s crazy. If you really want to live in New York, prepare to work all the time, pay way too much rent for a tiny apartment, and constantly be hustling. Nothing is easy here. But, nine years in, I feel like I sort of know what I’m doing.

5. I have everything that I need. There is money in my bank account–not a ton, but enough. I have clean, nice clothes. There is always food in my refrigerator. I have a roof over my head.

6. I am grateful for this excellent schnauzer. Her name is Stella. She smells like Fritos and dirt, and she is perfect.

7. I’m grateful for this little corner of the Internet. When I clicked “publish” last year, I had no idea what E2 Bakes would become. It’s a lot of work running a blog: recipe testing, writing into the wee hours, spending money on ingredients. And then there’s the agonizing over whether anyone will read the post I’ve spent 12 hours creating. Thank you to each and every one of you for reading, commenting, liking, sharing, and (most importantly) making these recipes in your kitchens. Nothing makes me happier than hearing how my recipes are working for you.

I may have had a rough year, but as you can see, I have plenty of goodness in my life. I hope you do too! What are you thankful for? Let me know in the comments.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Sausage & Mushroom Biscuit Stuffing

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Thanksgiving, y’all. It’s happening in eight days. Are you ready? I know I am.

See, aside from taking a bus to Boston, there’s nothing I need to do. My parents are coming up to spend the holiday with my little sister and me, and we’ll be having the traditional turkey dinner at a restaurant in Brookline, Massachusetts. No muss, no fuss. All we need to do is dress nicely and show up. It’s pretty great, especially if the idea of making a huge dinner doesn’t appeal to you. But, as you may have gathered by my having a food blog, the marathon cooking very much appeals to me.

For years I’ve said that my idea of the perfect day is preparing a Thanksgiving dinner all by myself. I know–I’m insane. Hear me out though. I have been obsessively reading recipes for years and have catalogued an extensive collection of Thanksgiving recipes. Given the chance to host Thanksgiving, I know every detail from how I’d serve Artichoke Dip as an appetizer to how I’d dry brine the turkey to which of my mother’s sweet potato recipes I’d use and how many pies I’d make. And of course, I know what kind of stuffing I’d serve–one made with biscuits and studded with sausage and mushrooms. Since it doesn’t appear I’ll be preparing any large turkey dinners anytime soon, I went ahead and tried my ideal stuffing recipe on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. After eating four servings over the course of the day, I can safely say that the Sausage & Mushroom Biscuit Stuffing I’d been imagining for years is just as good as I had hoped. Crispy on top, moist in the middle, and made out of the perfect food (biscuits, duh), this is the stuffing of my dreams.

Sausage & Mushroom Biscuit Stuffing starts with a batch of cream biscuits. These biscuits require less work than their buttermilk-based counterparts and are just as delicious. They’re great with butter and jam or made into little sandwiches, but here they’re cut into small pieces after baking and left at room temperature until stale (12-48 hours). If you’re working on a tight deadline, I’ve written a shortcut for this step into the recipe.

Once the biscuit pieces are dried out, the stuffing assembly can begin. Brown some sausage. I like breakfast sausage because the sage flavor goes so well with other parts of the Thanksgiving meal, but use whichever variety you like.

Sauté some diced mushrooms, followed by onion and celery. Add the biscuits, sausage, and vegetables to a large mixing bowl. Toss in some herbs–parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme (just as Simon & Garfunkel intended). Throw in a little salt and pepper and moisten everything with melted butter and chicken stock.

Pile it into a casserole dish (or your trusty cast iron skillet) and drizzle it with a bit more stock. Lay parchment and foil over the top to keep the stuffing moist, and bake for half an hour. Then remove the foil and parchment and bake for fifteen more minutes, just long enough for the top to get brown and crispy.

This stuffing, y’all. It’s freaking delicious. Deeply savory with tons of meaty sausage, earthy mushrooms, aromatics, herbs, and butter (always butter), it’ll be perfect alongside your turkey. The top is brown and crisp-crunchy, while the middle stays soft and moist. Oh my lord, is this good. Try it, and you will be wondering why we save this for one or two days per year. I know I am.

Sausage & Mushroom Biscuit Stuffing
biscuit recipe from Dinner with Julie
makes about 8-10 servings

Cream Biscuits:
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
pinch of Kosher or sea salt
2 cups heavy cream

Stuffing:
1 recipe cream biscuits (or other good biscuits), cut into 1-inch pieces (about 8 cups)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 lb breakfast sausage, removed from casings
6 tablespoons butter, divided
8 ounces cremini or other mushrooms, diced
2 cups diced white onion (about one large onion)
2 cups diced celery (about 6-8 stalks)
1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh sage, chopped
1/4 cup fresh Italian parsley, chopped
1/2-1 teaspoon Kosher or sea salt
1 teaspoon freshly-ground black pepper
3 cups low-sodium chicken stock, divided (I like Better than Bouillon)

Make the biscuits. Preheat oven to 400F. Grease a 9×13-inch baking dish. Set aside.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Use a silicone spatula or wooden spoon to stir in heavy cream. Knead a few times to incorporate any extra dry ingredients. Press biscuit dough into prepared pan and score with a sharp chef’s knife (I usually score 20 rectangular biscuits). Bake 15-20 minutes, or until cooked through and starting to turn golden. Let cool in the pan on a rack until the biscuits reach room temperature.

Use a sharp chef’s knife to cut the biscuits into 1-inch pieces. Place pieces in one layer on a baking sheet and leave uncovered for 12-48 hours, until stale. Alternatively, you may dry out the biscuit pieces by toasting them in a 350F oven for 30 minutes.

Make the stuffing. Preheat oven to 350F. Grease a large casserole or other ovenproof pan. Set aside.

Place stale biscuit pieces in a large mixing bowl.

Place olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add sausage and cook until browned. Remove sausage to the mixing bowl that contains the biscuits.

Discard all but 1 tablespoon of sausage fat from the pan, and return to the heat. Add 2 tablespoons butter and melt. Sauté mushrooms 7-10 minutes, until cooked but not browned. Add them to the sausage and biscuit pieces.

Return pan to the heat and reduce heat to medium. Add celery and onion and sauté until translucent but not brown, about 10 minutes.

Add vegetables to the large mixing bowl, along with thyme, rosemary, sage, parsley, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and pepper. Toss all ingredients together. Pour in 2 cups of chicken stock and continue stirring until everything is moistened (there may be a bit of excess liquid–this is fine). Taste for salt and add 1/2 teaspoon more, if desired.

Press mixture into prepared casserole dish. Drizzle with an additional 1 cup chicken stock. Cover with a layer of parchment, followed by a layer of foil. Bake 30 minutes. Remove parchment and foil. Bake an additional 15 minutes until browned and crispy. Serve immediately.

Leftovers will keep in an airtight container in the refrigerator for a few days.

e2 bakes brooklyn

sweets & sass from a baking brooklynite.