David Ross

The longer the better. After three days I'd say it will still be pretty stiff alcohol but by week three it would be better. Some of the fruitcakes we've been discussing here have been aging nearly 10 years.

I had considered putting them over a fine mesh screen, but decided against it and went with the parchment Ducasse calls for. I will however try it with my screen next time. I haven't tried that method for fruit slices, but I have for veggies and baked goods. I usually spray it with non-stick spray first so that helps with the sticking issue. One downfall of using the screen is it leaves a cross-hatch imprint on the food. That's o.k. for the bottom of a pizza crust, but probably wouldn't look great on my orange slices. This is another great cause for more experimentation and I like my new approach of testing all the elements first. I typically go into a new dish blind and put everything together at the same time, but using my new approach I can test the garnishes, lemon filling, chocolate sauce and pastry crust first.

Well, my first attempt at making the Ducasse "orange chips" ended up with some good results, albeit with a few changes to the recipe instructions. So I faced a couple of roadblocks up front. I noticed that in the cookbook photo, Ducasse shows the lemon tartelette garnished with "orange chips" with the peel on. However, the recipe calls for peeling the orange slices. The tartelette is also garnished with candied peel, yet the method for making the candied peel is missing from the recipe. Such are the details one finds missing in cookbooks, even at the Michelin level. I decided to craft both peeled and unpeeled orange chips. To start making the orange chips, you have to slice the oranges "paper-thin." Aha I thought, my French mandolin will do the trick. Na-da. The orange slices didn't hold up "paper-thin" when passing through the mandolin blade. Then I remembered the trusted tool I use for slicing all sorts of things--meats, cheeses and breads--my electric meat cutter. Now I can add oranges to the list of slicing possibilities--really, really, paper-thin slices of orange. You aren't pushing the fruit through the blade like on a mandolin, but rather, gently nudging the orange through the electric blade. A table saw for citrus if you will and it delivers precise slices every time. I found the peeled slices almost too delicate to handle. The slices with the peel were more sturdy, but I worried the peel and pith would have a bitter flavor. We would see. The cooking process starts with a simple syrup of 4 parts water to 2 parts sugar. Bring to the boil and let cook for about 10 minutes until reduced by half. Now gently tip in the orange slices and take the syrup off the heat. Steep the orange slices in the syrup for 5 minutes. Now this step is really tough, at least it was for me and my stubby fingers. You have to gently place the orange slices on parchment paper laid over a cookie sheet. (I took your suggestions and did as instructed. I didn't place the slices on a metal screen). Fingers didn't work, so I gently nudged each orange slice out of the syrup onto a wide spatula and used the spatula to deliver the slice onto the parchment. Bake the slices in a 325 oven about 25 minutes or until they just start to turn caramel. Turn the oven off and let the slices dry in the oven for one hour. OK, they look good, great actually. Now let's check the texture. Ugh, orange slices stuck to the parchment. This step takes as much patience as noodling the slices with a spatula from the syrup to the parchment--it takes delicate care to gently pull each slice from the parchment. I suppose more time in the oven would have dried the slices to the point where they would have been easier to pull off the parchment, but I didn't want to let something paper thin go too far. The unpeeled slices were the toughest--same time in the oven as the slices with peel, but still tacky and tough to pull up. The peel on the other slices acted as sort of the rim around the frame of the orange so they were easy to pull up and more crispy. Hmm. Odd science, but I go by touch and flavor. Once removed off the parchment, I placed the slices on a cookie rack to dry overnight. This morning I did a comparison. Visually I think both the peeled and unpeeled slices are worthy of garnishing a Ducasse lemon tartelette. I like the imperfect shape and all the little nooks and crannies in the orange slices. The unpeeled slice was chewy, not yet at the "crisp" stage and the flavor was good but not the strong orange flavor I'm looking for. Too tame. I feared the peel would make the other slice too bitter, but I remembered that I do love a good candied orange peel. It was heaven, crispy, crunchy, just a tad bitter, yet sweet and bursting with orange flavor. The thin layer of peel that had been steeped in syrup, baked and then dried had retained just enough orange oil to deliver flavor that wasn't too bitter. This will be a fine little garnish for the lemon tartelette and I think go quite well with my chocolate sauce. I think.

Thanks for the info. It will be a challenge for me to "slice the oranges" paper thin as Ducasse directs. Then we'll proceed with baking and drying the oranges.

Thanks everyone. We are certainly off to a great start and I love all of the suggestions, combinations of flavors and textures that we're discussing. I for one love to have cooks give me tips on how to enhance my dishes. I'm starting off with a dessert from Alain Ducasse, (I know shudder at the thought I'm taking a stab at a 3-Star Michelin dessert). "Tartlette au Citron et Agrumes, Chips d'Orange," or Lemon Tartlets with Orange Chips. The dish is in "The Flavors of France" by Ducasse. The recipe reads simple enough--a sweet pastry shell encasing a lemon filling and garnished with fresh orange, lime, grapefruit and clementine segments. The tartelette is crowned by "orange chips," which are paper-thin slices cooked in a simple syrup then baked and dried in the oven. My only change is to add some type of chocolate sauce. I'm taking it slow on this one, starting with a practice run at the orange chips. I'm going to test my contraption of a fine mesh screen over a cookie rack for the orange slices. (I once proposed a similar screen for pizza but the invention company sniffed their noses at my invention). Ducasse calls for laying the slices on parchment, but that doesn't allow for air to breathe underneath so I'm not sure if it is the best method. (Of course, a 3-Star Pastry Chef has no doubt tried the technique and is laughing at my feeble attempt to do otherwise). We'll see how I manage. The French have a way of telling you a dish is just a few simple ingredients--then they bring forth the creation of a master.

I should have gotten photos of the packages of chocolate I found. And let me start by saying I'm obvious a chocolate novice. One of the packages said "Bittersweet" and others said "Dark" or "Milk" and so on. That's what peaked my interest as to the flavor differences with bittersweet. I've tasted what I was told was bittersweet chocolate and I thought it would be a good possibility with citrus fruits. I'm doing a sweet pastry tart shell with a lemon filling then garnished with different candied citrus fruit peels. I thought a chocolate sauce would work well with it.

I'm starting to put together my plans for my first citrus dish but I need some suggestions. Does bittersweet chocolate work better with citrus fruits than say dark chocolate? Or is bittersweet chocolate to harsh against oranges and grapefruits? Secondly, one of the garnishes is an "orange crisp." Basically an orange slice coated in sugar and baked in the oven. The recipe calls for putting the slices directly on parchment paper, but wouldn't that inhibit the underside from "crisping?" Would it be better to place the orange slices over a fine screen to allow air circulation during baking?

Honestly I don't spend much time washing citrus. I love the combination of a good piece of fatty pork paired with oranges. And I really like your Italian cake. Would you serve that with ice cream, sorbet or maybe ricotta?

I love the concept and flavors in your dish. I bought some quail just last week so you've given me some inspiration.

Heidi that all sounds so delicious and refreshing.

I'm going to have to buy myself a lemon tree.

That is really beautiful meat. I got lucky today and one of my employees brought me some venison steaks.

Anything is on the table during a Cook-off so that means whole fruit, fruit segments or fruit juice. Whatever your recipe calls for. Part of the fun of the Cook-Off's is how we use the ingredient in different ways.

What Mother served back in the 60's and it is still delicious. I start with a good dusting of powdered sugar and broil that. Then a layer of granulated sugar, broiled, and a second and third! The result is a crispy shield over that "pink" grapefruit. By the way, for sake of the photo prop there is a fourth maraschino cherry in the center of the fruit. Now that's livin.

Last Fall we debuted our Apple Cook-Off and we were not disappointed. From Gravensteins to Granny Smith, Red Delicious, Golden Delicious, Braeburn, Northern Spy and Pink Lady, we presented you with Apple Springrolls, Apple Butter, Apple Tartlets, Roast Pork with Apples, Apple and Chestnut Stuffing and a concoction of Apple Juice, Apple Cider and Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey. (Click here http://forums.egulle...cook-off-index/ for the complete eG Cook-Off Index). Apples are a worthy fruit no doubt, but today we enter into a more passionate and exotic realm of fruit cookery with the launch of eG Cook-Off #68: Citrus Fruits. Late January is the peak of the citrus season. At least it is up here in the Pacific Northwest, where nary a blood orange or key lime ever drops from a local tree. This time of year our markets are groaning with huge orbs of Texas grapefruit, pommelos from Mexico, oranges from Florida and exotic citrus flown in from far-flung Asian ports. Our neighbors to the South, the agri-wonderland of California, delivers mandarins, minneolas and blood oranges to Spokane within just a few days of being plucked from the tree. And I can’t get enough. I’ll never forget the huge grapefruits, larger than two fists, that Mother would serve us for breakfast. She indulged our sweet tooths by showering the cut halves of fruit with sugar. We never had to struggle with scooping out the meaty supremes. Like a fine surgeon, Mother cut the fruit precisely so we’d be able to maneuver every tangy, sweet segment using the serrated silver spoon handed down by my Grandmother. I imagine my Grandmother Edna May Pink serving freshly squeezed grapefruit juice in small, hand-cut crystal glasses as a “first-course” at her ladies' bridge club luncheons. Or maybe a simple dessert course of a broiled half grapefruit studded with a candied cherry and served in a wide crystal goblet, the little silver spoon to the side. Oh, the memories of grapefruit. One fondly dreams of the warm, boozy, classic French “Baba Au Rhum” surrounded by a center of “glace' oranges” and decorated with tiny, crisp, candied tangerine leaves to close the curtain on a grand feast at L'atelier de Joel Robuchon in Las Vegas. I long for a suckling baby pig, no more than 12 pounds, turning ever so slowly on the rotisserie spit over glowing embers of white oak, the sweet scent of a pineapple-tangerine glaze dripping onto the coals as the crackling, golden skin shines. For our Cook-Off, I’m thinking of starting with a lemon souffle recipe that was served during the reign of Edward VII. Citrus fruits were rare at the time and even the overly indulgent Edwardians considered them expensive, only to be served on important occasions. It's that time my friends. You have resolved to lose weight in the New Year. To eat better and to exercise. For a cook, that means challenging oneself to exercise creativity in the kitchen using a fruit that decidedly brings energy and good health. So off you go. Begin crafting your dish, create a shopping list and present us with "fruits" of your labors. Welcome to eG Cook-Off #68: Citrus Fruits. Broiled Grapefruit-

Thanks. I always appreciate both kudos and questions about my dishes. I did use roasted poblanos. Also into the "green" element was zuchinni, cilantro, parsley and chives. Then charred garlic and charred onion. All that went into the food processor with water to make a paste. The rice is first sautéed in oil, the green mixture added in and then more water. I did the traditional cooking method of starting it at a boil on the stovetop, then covering the pot and simmering the rice for about 15 minutes. Then covering the pot with a cloth towel, the lid back on, the heat off and finishing cooking for another 15 minutes. I thought it was a bit soupy, but I've got it chilled in the fridge and will use it for fried rice tonight!

My first stab at green rice. Pretty good but next time it needs some hotter chiles. Served with broiled prawns and a roasted poblano-caper vinaigrette-

This one sounds lovely. I actually used recipes that old on occasion. But aside from the recipes, it gives one an insight into the history and tradition of cuisines and the burdens one had back in that day. Imagine, they knew how to puree peas without a food processor.

The Holidays aren't over in my kitchen. In fact, I still have these beloved editions still sitting on a chair in the living room with any number of sticky notes attached to pages of delicious recipes. And the restaurant reviews, oh those dearly missed, beautifully written restaurant reviews. Gourmet, how we miss you.

I think the historical family ties to fruitcake is fascinating. My Grandmother, Mildred Ross, was a very good baker and candy maker. Her family, the Slayton's, trekked from Missouri over the Oregon Trail ca. 1865 to stake a land claim in Prineville, Oregon. I remember my Father telling me how his Mother would send him fruitcake while he was fighting in Europe during the War. Great Aunt Bertie May Pink is the woman I look to for inspiration when it comes to fruitcake. Bertie was my Grandfather Ralph Pink's Sister. We're not sure, but we think their last name "Pink" was actually an abbreviation of a longer Russian name. We know they left Russia in the 1880's to escape the persecution of Jews by the Russian government at the time. The Pink's eventually landed in sheep country in Southern Idaho, building a wool and pelt trading company in Twin Falls, Idaho. I've made many a fruitcake over the years, but I just can't come close to the cakes that Aunt Bertie made. And I suspect she kept that bottle of left over brandy for a little nip here and there.

Here's the recipe for the Almond Butter Crunch- 2 cups unsalted butter 2 cups granulated sugar 4 tbsp. water 4 tbsp. light corn syrup 3/4 cup slivered almonds 3/4 cup sliced almonds 12oz. milk chocolate Coarse sea salt Line two baking trays with parchment paper, then lightly spray the parchment with non-stick cooking spray. Heat the oven to 400. Spread the slivered almonds over a separate baking tray. Spread the sliced almonds over a separate baking tray. Toast the almonds in the oven until they just start to brown, about 12 minutes. Melt the butter in a deep saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the sugar, water and corn syrup. Now you have to be patient and let the candy mixture cook. Don't increase the heat as the candy may burn. You'll need to use a candy thermometer and let the candy cook to the hard crack stage at 305. Once it reaches 305, remove the pan from the heat and stir in the slivered almonds then immediately pour the candy onto the parchment lined baking trays. You should have enough candy to cover 1 full tray and then 1/2 of a second tray. Let the candy cool completely. Once the candy is cooled, sprinkle the sliced almonds over the top of the candy. I'm not experienced with melting chocolate, so I use the easy way out and melt it in the microwave just to the point of consistency where I can drizzle the chocolate over the candy and almonds. I use a wire whisk dipped in the chocolate to create the mixed pattern over the candy. Certainly not something you'd probably learn in confectionary school but it seems to work o.k. The chocolate basically works as a glue to adhere the almonds. Sprinkle the candy with coarse sea salt. Let the chocolate cool and harden before wrapping and packaging.

I could also call it "Jackson Pollock's ode to Toffee."

I rarely post here, mainly because I'm the once a year candy maker and the stuff I send to family and friends pales in comparison to some of the beautiful confections I see showcased here. But I do visit regularly to learn from all of you. This is what I call almond butter crunch-- basically a deconstructed home version of Almond Roca.

Oh boy, just wait until I take that to work for breakfast. My employees will be most jealous.

Hash Brown Casserole--a great dish on a Holiday morning that feeds a crowd. I use the basic recipe from Mrs. Dell's hashbrowns and then I add my own touch to the casserole. This year I added cooked ham, sometimes I'll add pork sausage. (This isn't a sophisticated dish so I haven't tried it with foie gras or poached quails eggs). I think the best part is the topping-corn flakes drenched in butter.