Blue Moon Beer Bread: A year at home

The last time that I drank beer regularly was for a quarter a cup in frat basements. Cold, damp and often leaving the white laces of my shoes tea-stained in spilled Natty Light. I drank from a red plastic cup that my boyfriend had been ashing his Pall Mall in; I didn't drink beer for three years after that. 

Somewhere down the line of being back in Pennsylvania, I began to drink a beer with my father. Once by the pool deck on the Fourth of July, then weekly at a local restaurant. For years, we didn't talk much; we racked it up to not a lot in common. But slowly I opened up to him and slowly he listened more than I thought he would. He likes Coors Light. I buy him two and I stuck with Blue Moon, which runs about $2 during Happy Hour in my hometown.

My mother started coming out with us. She always had a story to tell about a relative I thought had died a long time ago. If you stop talking about people in my family, it's because they either wronged you in some arbitrary way or they died a few years ago, going unnoticed by my adolescent caprice. We liked to order spaghetti with extra garlic. I always bought the drinks. She had what I was having and one summer my father had to drive us home, we were both so drunk from Happy Hour and hearing the news of my brother's wife's pregnancy.

I moved back out of my parents' place after a year there and I miss those weekly traditions. They had to cancel their trip out next Tuesday, afraid of a snowstorm and my dad can't see very well at night. I planned on making this bread for them, but I'll hold off a week until I know they're coming, to surprise them and let them know that I wasn't unhappy the year I spent with them, I just readjusted myself a little harder to the world I grew up in.

Blue Moon Beer Bread

Recipe adapted from here, though the ratios are similar to many others out there. I think this is possibly the easiest quick bread in the world. Make sure to try out other beers as well, but I would omit the orange, cinnamon, and use white instead of brown sugar. 

Ingredients:

• 3 cups flour
• 3 teaspoon baking soda
• 2 tablespoons cornstarch
• A pinch of cinnamon
• 1/4 cup dark brown sugar, packed
• 1 bottle Blue Moon
• 8 tablespoon unsalted butter, melted
• Orange or clementine, sliced for garnish

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 375*F and prepare a loaf pan with butter and parchment
2. Sift together flour, soda, cornstarch, cinnamon, and sugar
3. Create a well in the center of the dry ingredients with a wooden spoon
4. Pour your beer into the center of the well and stir
5. Add butter
6. Mix well and pour into your loaf pan
7. Top with slices of orange and bake for 1 hour
8. Remove and allow to cool before eating (you don't have to eat the oranges--they're just garnish!)

Variation: Beer-Poached Pear Cobbler

The snow drifts; it has no concept of space-time. The dogs sleep and wake throughout the day, all three of them in huddles and heads propped on the others' backs. They are all paws and tails when we come home, a mix of cries and nerves. 

We went to a charity dinner last night, for the ASPCA and Your Safe Haven. We spent the night at my parents' instead of driving home. And I missed it, the place in Ligonier that has a barn and field and where we've slept in the same bed for the last week. It's finally feeling like home, a transition I wasn't sure would happen so quickly. 

It's peaceful and quiet and I am left alone most days. I keep the TV off. I read in my spare time. A year ago it wouldn't have been like this. Here, I can forget the world and the past. Here, I have no concept of space-time myself and I can drift off into a sleep or pile up in a thousand blankets and take more moments for living instead of remembering.

Beer-Poached Pear Cobbler

This recipe is warm. It's beer and spiced pears and warm biscuits and cool cream. It's baked in cast iron and lasts for days. It's a variation, a riff from this cake and lovely in its complications and its delicacy.

Ingredients for Beer-Poached Pears:

• 4 pears, peeled, cored and halved
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 1/4 cup clover honey
• 1 vanilla bean, split in half
• 2 cup beer (I used Yuengling)
• 1 orange, juice and zest
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 cup orange juice
• Pinch of salt
• 2 tablespoon ginger, peeled
• 1/4 cup AP flour

Ingredients for Biscuits and Cobbler:

• 1 1/2 cup AP flour
• 1/2 cup white sugar, extra for sprinkling
• 2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 6 TB unsalted butter, cold and cubed
• 3/4 cup buttermilk, cold
• 1 TB vanilla extract
• 2 TB candied ginger

Directions for Beer-Poached Pears:

1. In a medium saucepan, bring all ingredients (except the flour) to a boil
2. Reduce heat, simmer for 15 minutes or until just tender
3. Take off heat, remove pears
4. Put in a small mixing bowl and sprinkle with flour while it cools

Directions for Biscuits and Cobbler:

1. Preheat oven to 350*F
2. Prep your cast iron skillet with butter
3. Whisk together dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl
4. Using your hands, mix in butter by pinching into your dry ingredients until fat is the size of peas
5. Create a well in the center of your mixture with a wooden spoon and pour in buttermilk and vanilla extract
6. Stir until just mixed
7. Pour pears into pan and drop biscuit dough on top of pears
8. Sprinkle with a bit of sugar
9. Bake for 30 minutes or until golden brown

Assemble: Scoop out a pear with a bit of biscuit on top. Whisk together mascarpone or greek yogurt, a bit of honey, and some vanilla to top. 

Pear and Beer Cake!

Happy New Year!

2017 is my year. I keep repeating it to anyone that will listen. I told it to myself in the mirror, trying to pat my cowlick down. I told it to the smoke that danced from a blown-out candle. I told it to my boyfriend as we held hands at the spa in my hometown of Bedford. I told it to my mother when she was doing dishes and to Milo when he was snoring on my shoulder while I answered emails.

I am ready to embrace this year. I hope it decides to embrace me back.

My resolutions are in invisible ink. Lemon juice on parchment that fades. A starburst behind my eyelids. I'll remember them, but they are a tetragrammaton I can't utter just yet. I am working on myself, on my food and my words. I am working on forgiveness, too. It's not at all easy, but I'm 25 and growing.

A year ago I moved back to Pennsylvania. A year ago, I stopped worrying about money and a career and the eternal sunshine of a coast I never fully understood. I made this cake to remember that time, to look back on who I was and how I have grown. I made a French cake, one from Dorie Greenspan, and spiked it with Yuengling and roughly chopped pears, so dull and brown and juicy in their diffidence. 

Pear and Beer Marie-Hélène Cake

This cake is a throwback to one of my oldest recipes I ever baked in California. It's Dorie Greenspan's Marie-Hélène apple cake and it is, in its original format, delicious. As I said, I wanted to honor last year's move home by tying in flavors of Pennsylvania with Pittsburgh's most famous beer, Yuengling. This cake is super moist, super easy, and honestly, one of my favorites (but that goes with anything Dorie does). Of course, feel free to omit the beer and sub in apples. Further, I made this in a compact, taller cake pan. If using a standard 8 or 9 inch pan, your baking time will be reduced by about 15 minutes.

Ingredients:

• 1 1/4 cup AP flour
• 1 TB cornstarch
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 3 pears, peeled, cored, and roughly chopped
• 3 TB beer
• 2 TB dark brown sugar
• 2 TB orange juice
• 1 TB orange zest
• 1/2 TB pure vanilla extract
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup white sugar
• 8 TB butter, melted and cooled
• Confectioner's sugar, for dusting

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350*F and prepare your pan with butter, flour, and parchment paper
2. In a large bowl, sift together flour, cornstarch, baking powder, and salt
3. In a separate bowl, stir pears, beer, brown sugar, juice, zest, and vanilla together, making sure to coat the pears evenly with the liquids
4. Finally, in your stand mixer (or a third bowl!), whisk together eggs until foamy, then continue whisking while you slowly pour in your cup of white sugar
5. Create a well in the center of your dry mixture, then, with a rubber spatula, slowly stir in the egg mixture. It will be a bit thick and very dry
6. Now, add your butter and the pear mixture, including the liquids in the bowl
7. Stir again with your rubber spatula
8. Pour into your prepared cake pan and bake for 1 hour and 10 minutes. Check at one hour for doneness
9. Allow to cool completely before removing from pan
10. Dust with confectioner's sugar before serving

Cherry and Beer Poptarts

When I was 7, I got my first pair of glasses. My brother cried because he said I didn’t look the same. We haven’t spoken in three years.

When I was 17, I moved out. Went to college, rode the train. When I was 17, I had my first boyfriend; the string of inconsistencies that have allowed me to know who I am through a process of elimination. When I was 17, I got lost in downtown Pittsburgh, throwing up in alleyways and walking back to campus. The next day, I got my lip pierced. I think to show others I could be tough, even if I couldn’t grow facial hair or hold my liquor.

At 18, I stayed in Italy. I worked at a gas station to pay for my ticket. My mom kept the apron for when she cleans the house. I didn’t keep in touch with those I lived with abroad. I didn’t see a point. They saw me as a child who shaved his head and smoked short cigarettes. I think I spent that time convincing myself I didn’t need anyone. I moved back to Pennsylvania December 16th. I started dating my boyfriend on January 1.

In May, he went to China and I got my first tattoo. I didn’t need him for anything. A small act of rebellion, small needles and antiseptic smell mixed with the blood-rust under the cottonball.

I tanned before moving to California, still wore a lot of black, still smoked a lot of cigarettes. I drank juice and coffee; I ate candy during law school finals.

Got more tattoos, lost a job.

Moved to Texas, put to roses on my arm.

Moved back to California, fell in and out of love. Fell in and out of a understanding of what I wanted, but I know I wanted out.

This time I got the word “eleven” tattooed on my arm for my dad. It was his baseball number. They retired it when he graduated from South Ripley County, Indiana.

And last week I got a nose ring. I’m 24 and still changing things. Still speaking through layers of performance, latent cues and failed attempts at seeming aloof. That’s the beauty of being so young still—I have grown accustomed to being someone else and somehow all the iterations of that person are all still me.

And today I was someone who created photo backgrounds, who propped the board up with an old coffee mug from my week in Belgium. I was someone who made poptarts, handpies, whatever you want to call it—like I used to when I was six and the world was blurry and my skin unblemished.

Cherry and Beer Poptarts

Ingredients for the crust:

• 8 TB unsalted butter, very cold
• 6 TB shortening, very cold
• 2 cup AP flour
• 1 cup almond meal
• ¼ cup white sugar
• 1 TB pure vanilla extract
• ¼ to ½ cup ice water

Ingredients for the filling:

• 2 cups cherries, pitted and halved
• ½ cup brown sugar, dark
• ¼ cup beer, any variety (can sub red wine if you’d like)
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 TB lemon or orange zest
• Juice from half a lemon or ¼ of an orange
• A slurry of cornstarch (1 TB cornstarch whisked in 1 TB water) – do not make until cherries are reduced by hal

Directions for crust:

1. In a food processor, pulse together butter, shortening, flour, almond meal, and white sugar until fats are pea-sized
2. Add vanilla extract and pulse once or twice
3. With motor running, pour ¼ cup of water into feeding tube in a gradual stream until a dough forms. You may need an additional couple teaspoons of ice water until dough clumps and begins to pull away from edges of the bowl
4. Turn out onto a floured work surface and divide into two discs
5. Wrap both discs in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes to res

Directions for filling:

1. In a medium sauce pan, combine cherries, sugar, beer, salt, and lemon, stir with a spoon to ensure liquid is covering everything
2. On medium heat, allow for cherries to release their juices and for sugar to dissolve
3. Continue heating until juices simmer and reduce by half (during this time, whisk together your slurry)
4. Reduce heat to low and vigorously whisk in the slurry
5. Mixture will begin to thicken and continue thickening as it cool

Assembly:

1. Preheat your oven to 400*F
2. Prepare two baking sheets with parchment paper
3. Take one disc of dough out of the fridge and roll out onto a heavily-floured work surface into a rough rectangle that is about 12” by 10” (this will vary slightly, so don’t stress it too much)
4. Using a sharp knife, cut your dough into rectangles. For a guide, I actually used a 3”x4” index card, but you can measure with a ruler if you so choose
5. With each rectangle, carefully place onto your prepared baking sheets. You should have 9 rectangles total (if using the very scientific Index Card Method)
6. Now, re-flour your board and roll out your second disc of dough
7. Measure and cut your rectangles out again, but do not immediately place on your sheets
8. At this point, you will have to do three things in succession: make an egg wash to brush edges of the dough, spoon in some of your cherry filling onto each rectangle (I’d say about 2 TB per pie, but this is based on preference mostly), and place second top dough layer on top
9. Do this for each pie
10. Crimp the edges of each pie with a fork, pressing slightly to seal
11. Brush tops of pies with remaining egg wash and sprinkle with a little sugar
12. Using a paring knife, cut a couple small nicks in the top crust to vent dough
13. Bake for 25 minutes or until golden brown on the edges and tops
14. Allow to cool completely before adding your topping (my glaze was ½ cup confectioner’s sugar, 4 TB half and half, and 1 TB vanilla extract, then topped with almond slices and sprinkles)
15. Can be kept for up to 3 days in an airtight container, but I like them served warm.

Honey Oat Bread

I sustain myself with simple foods. Foods I can rip by hand—tangerines and loaves of bread. Food I ate when I lived in San Antonio and didn’t have enough money for gas, but still had enough for to make cakes. Simple foods, delicate. Tactile and necessary. I bread a bit of crust off and feed it to Milo. My parents’ dog, Jack, gets jealous and he gets some, too.  I ate this bread for three days, with butter and jam and before bed.  I ate it with crumbs on the plate and then got another slice. It sustained me when I was busy, not wanting to work. Not wanting to get out of bed. Not wanting to check the mail or pay my bills or feed the animals.  I get like this sometimes. Not often, but sometimes. And I wait it out, keep busy. Stay quiet. Eat when I have to and wait for morning to come. 

Honey Oat Bread, makes two loaves

Ingredients:

• 1 cup whole milk
• 1 cup water
• ½ cup honey
• ¼ cup brown sugar
• 2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup oats, plus more for top of bread
• 3 tablespoons butter, divided (one of those tablespoons melted)
• ¼ cup beer
• 1 ¼ cup yeast (I use Red Star Yeast)
• 4-5 cups AP flour

Directions:

1. In a medium saucepan combine milk, water, honey, sugar, salt, oats, 2 tablespoons of butter, and beer
2. Heat on medium, stirring often until small bubbles appear on rim of liquid and butter is melted
3. Remove from heat and allow to cool until warm to the touch
4. Pour into the bowl of a stand mixer, fitted with the paddle attachment, and sprinkle in yeast
5. Allow to stand for ten minutes for yeast to bloom. Small bubbles will appear, but as this is a heavy liquid starter, it will not be foamy
6. Turn mixer on and begin adding flour, one cup at a time. Do this slowly and allow for each cup to be fully incorporated before adding the next
7. When dough is just formed, switch attachment to the dough hook
8. Mix on medium-low for 5-7 minutes until dough is turned on hook and not sticking to the sides
9. Set into a well-oiled bowl and allow to rise, covered with a towel, for one hour
10. When doubled in size, punch down and divide into two loaves
11. Rest 20 minutes
12. While dough is resting, prepare the 2 loaf pans and preheat oven to 350*F and melt remaining tablespoon of butter
13. Gently shape each half into a loaf shape, careful not to deflate dough, and place into pans
14. Brush with melted butter and sprinkle oats on top
15. Bake for about 25-28 minutes, checking at the 20 minute mark for any heavy browning or burning
16. Remove and cool before eating. Can be kept in airtight container for up to 3 days (but fresh bread is always the best bread!)