citrus love



smitten with the abundance of citrus varieties during the winter months, i always hang on to pastries and desserts incorporating them as long as i can. i love the citruses’ wild scent and untamed taste, never overpowering but ever so distinct. pairing the sweet and soothing orange flavors with the wild aroma of the rosemary is a combination particularly close to my dessert lover’s heart. ever since i have fallen in love with rosemary shortbread and the orange version of a curd, i have envisioned to combine them in fine pastry. only recently was i self-confident enough to give it a try: a sweet tart crust infused with the mediterranean herb, filled with sweet and creamy orange curd, perfect combo for chilly late winter days.

rosemary and orange curd tart
ingredients for the crust:
190 g all-purpose flour (1,5 cups)
a pinch of salt
170 g butter (1,5 sticks)
2 tbsp rosemary needles, chopped
30 ml cold water (1/8 cup)

ingredients for the orange curd:
juice of one lemon and 1,5 oranges, about 80 ml total (1/3 cup)
2 tbsp of orange zest
150 g sugar (3/4 cup)
4 eggs
pinch of salt
115 g butter, cubed (1 stick)

make the crust:
in a small saucepan melt the butter and add the chopped rosemary needles. bring butter to a boil, take off the heat and let cool down for about 20 minutes. strain butter and discard the rosemary needles. chill the butter in the refrigerator until it settles.

in a large bowl, mix dry ingredients. add chilled butter and with your fingertips work the mixture into coarse crumbs. add some water and work the dough until it comes together. between two sheets of wax paper or plastic wrap, form dough into a disk and roll to the size of a 9 inch tart pan. chill in refrigerator for 30 minutes.

make the curd:
in a small sauce pan, whisk together the orange and the lemon juices, the orange zest, sugar, salt, and the eggs. slowly heat the mixture over medium heat while continuing to whisk for about 12 to 15 minutes. Once mixture thickens, remove from heat and stir in the butter cubes. keep stirring until the butter is fully incorporated. set aside to cool.

bake the crust:
preheat oven to 350 F or 180 C. butter and flour a 9 inch (23 cm) tart pan with a removable bottom or a spring pan.
take the crust from the refrigerator and let it soften at room temperature. you can speed up the process by slightly smoothing the crust with your hands. roll out the softened crust to the size of the baking pan. remove wax paper or plastic wrap an press dough into the baking pan. pull the dough up to form a rim about an inch (2,5 cm) high. bake about 15 minutes until the edges turn golden brown. cool down on a cooling rack.

bake the tart:
reduce the heat of the oven to 320 F (160 C). pour the orange curd into the tart crust and bake for another 15 to 20 minutes until the curd is set completely. if the orange curd is still wobbly, add another 5 to 10 minutes to the baking time.
cool the tart on a cooling rack, remove from the form and decorate with blood orange slices. keep in the refrigerator for up to two days.

inspiration and guidance for the crust came from the Cook’s Atelier’s simple but effective pate sucree recipe and the orange curd is based on Sarah C. Owen’s lemon curd recipe in Sourdough.

not ready to let go of citrus yet!


old fashioned winter tarte


spiking pastries or rather the fillings thereof is certainly at the heart of German pastry baking: just think about the Kirsch, so famously giving the Black Forest Cake its prime aroma, the raisins for stollen soaking in rum at least a day or two, the ambrosial red wine and glühwein coffee cakes, and the huge variety of chocolates filled with high percentage spirits distilled from summer fruits such as apricot, pear and plum.

being the laid back people Germans are when it comes to alcoholic beverages as part of family rituals throughout the seasonal year, nobody was overly concerned when my grandparents gave their grandchildren an elegant box of luscious chocolates filled with spirit infused fillings for Christmas back in the days. those were the times, when the spiked eggnog tarte was a staple at my mother’s winter coffee hours. her dark chocolate tarte was immensely popular with everyone, not only for its spirited character, but also because of its elegant appearance, wrapped in delicate laces of piped whipping cream and covered with shimmering ‘eierlikör’!

But times changed, even in Germany, and serving a cake covered in a layer of high percentage alcohol at a table crowded with children and teenagers became a thing of the past. Only recently, when i discovered that stateside eggnog is primarily a non-alcoholic treat and only second an alcohol infused libation, i was reminded of the recipe again. Certainly, eggnog isn’t exactly ‘eierlikör’, however it can can very well be substituted for it in this recipe. in case the alcohol infused version does appeal to you, spike the eggnog with some rum to taste.

here is my mother’s secret recipe for the vintage eggnog tarte revealed:

ingredients for the tarte:
80 g butter
80 g sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
5 eggs, separated
200 g ground almonds
100 g dark chocolate, grated

ingredients for the topping:
500 ml of whipping cream

line a spring form with parchment paper and pre-heat oven to 350 F.

in the bowl of a stand mixer, whip the egg whites until stiff white peaks are forming. move the egg whites into a different bowl. put bitter and sugar into the mixing bowl and with the paddle attachment beat until creamy, add the egg yolks, one at a time and keep on beating into a white and creamy mixture. add the chocolate and stir until incorporated. with a wooden spoon or a spatula gently fold the egg whites and almonds under the butter and egg yolk mixture. don’t over mix.

spread batter evenly into the spring form and bake for about 55 – 60 minutes. Let cool entirely on a cooling rack.

with the whisk of a stand mixer, whip up the heavy whipping cream. fill it in a pastry piping bag with a fluted tip.
with a wooden pick, poke holes into the tart and brush it with eggnog to soak the tarte. pipe whipping cream around the edge of the tarte and along the sides. pour more eggnog onto the tarte, don’t overflow. Chill the tarte in the refrigerator until serving.

For the weeks until spring, keep warm and bake on!


spiralling into summer


this year, i have managed to produce a very decent cordial from elderflowers. i found the elderberry bushes tucked away in the woods behind my house. three shrubs, growing inconspicuously as part of a patch of underbrush. when i discovered them last year, i felt elated at the chance to continue this beloved early summer routine in my new home. in that same month, always more the visionary than the practical gardener, i also planted an elderberry sapling at the corner of the backyard that i had bought from the native plant society. the tiny bush grew extensively this spring, more than tripling in size, but blossoming might take another year.

with bottles full of sweetly scented syrup filling up the fridge, i decided to finally give this recipe a try. intrigued by its decidedly sophisticated combination of flavors, it had hovered in the back of my head for quite a while. at the same time, i tested millet flour in some of my sourdough breads and i was smitten by the tender crumb and the attractive yellow color it added to the baked goods.

the elderflour cordial infused cream roll will definitely spiral you into culinary summertime. the fine texture of the millet flour adds a sunny tone to the soft and airy sponge cake, flavoring it with a distinct nutty note. before filling the roll, soak the sponge with some of the cordial, adding more scented and juicy moisture to the fine, graceful taste of the yogurt and cream filling.

cream roll with millet flour
ingredients for the sponge cake:

4 eggs, separated
a pinch of salt
25 g confectionery/powdered sugar
75 g granulated sugar
½ tsp vanilla extract
75 g millet flour
½ baking powder

tea towel and some granulated sugar (3-4 tablespoons for rolling up the cakes base)

ingredients for the filling:

200 g whole milk greek yogurt
50 g granulated sugar
1/2 envelope gelatin
200 g whipping cream
about 100 ml of elderberry cordial
two handful of chopped pistachios


cover baking sheet (ca. 9×14 inches, 24×40 cm) with parchment paper and preheat oven to 375°f.
with the whisk of an electric handheld mixer or a stand mixer beat egg whites until soft peaks form. add a pinch of salt and the confectionery sugar and beat until stiff and glossy. in another bowl beat egg yolks and granulated sugar until white and creamy. add vanilla extract. spoon egg whites over the egg yolk mixture, sift in millet flour and baking powder fold into batter with a spatula. do not over mix, you still want to see some lumps of egg whites and some of the flour.

pour batter onto baking sheet and spread out evenly. bake for about 10 – 12 minutes until golden brown. sprinkle a tea towel with granulated sugar. turn baked dough upside down onto the tea towel. gently pull off the parchment paper. starting at the long side and using the towel for support, gently roll cake base into a log.

while dough is cooling, prepare the filling. stir sugar into yogurt. Following the directions on the package, soak gelatin in two or three tablespoons of elderflower syrup. In a small sauce pan, gently heat up the soaked gelatin, adding another two or three table spoons of elderflower cordial. Once the gelatin is entirely dissolved, stir in two or three tablespoons of the yogurt-sugar mix to keep the gelatin from forming lumps. pour gelatin mix into yogurt-sugar mix and stir well. refrigerate yogurt gelatin mix. once it starts to settle, whip up 200 g of whipping cream until soft peaks form. to avoid lumps, whip up yogurt gelatin mix before adding the cream. fold cream gently into yogurt until incorporated, chill filling in the refrigerator.

carefully unroll the cool dough with the tea towel. sprinkle sponge cake with some more of the elderflower syrup, spread cream mixture onto dough. sprinkle filling with the chopped pistachios. save some for decoration. with the help of the tea towel, roll sponge cake and filling into a log. with the seam on the bottom, carefully transfer roll onto a serving platter, sprinkle with confectionery sugar and decorate to your liking. chill in the refrigerator until serving.



here, the backyard sparkles with fire flies dancing in the blue hours of the dusk. sipping elderflower cordial on ice, infused with fresh mint from the side of the house, i am watching the fan lazily stirring the warm summer air. from where i sit, i can see the top leaves of the elderberry bush shimmering in the dim light. next year, i am thinking, ever the hopeful visionary, next year, it will be the time to harvest our first homegrown elderflowers.


sweet & tart: bavarian rhubarb pie


it’s the season now! it’s the time of bright fresh green in the yard, of vibrant florals dotting the flower garden, and of delicate little spikes working themselves upwards to the sun through the dark and moist soil in the vegetable patch. stubbornly bavarian in heart and mind, at times striving for independence against all odds, i am still triyng to grow the greens, legumes, and berries of my native home, more or less successfully in virginia, since it is for some much to hot and humid here in the summer. peas, radishes, gooseberries and red currants, even the rhubarb i favor so much, seem to prefer cooler temperatures and chilly nights under cloudy skies. one might want to debate the advantage of having summer days from may till beginning of october over the cool, short bavarian summer, but when it comes to the garden fruits this enternally springlike climate produces, it definitely wins over the alternative. at least until virginia summer abundance kicks in!

for now, i am still in alpine spring mode, with crisp red radish bites and sweet-tart coffee hour treats. for the purpose of making me feel more at home, he who had never tasted rhubarb before we met, lest would even have recognized it if he had come across it, brought home some beautiful, delightfully dark red stalks from the local farmers market. such are the romantic couple’s moments in a home full of teenage dramas and sock-littered floors!

while patiently waiting for the newly acquired plant to produce fine scented stalks in the backyard in springs to come, it seems the farm grown rhubarb was this year’s one and only chance for the uniquly delicious spring treat, plus a great opportunity to finally note down the original german version of the recipe in the english translation.


ingredients for a 9″x 13″ (33 x 23 cm) baking sheet of rhubarb tarte

125 g flour
100 g chilled butter, in cubes,
25 g fine cane sugar
pich of salt
1/4 tsp baking powder
2 egg yolks

fruit topping:
300 g rhubarb, skinned and cut 1/2 inch pieces
1 tbsp flour
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
100 g red berry preserve

2 egg whites
100 g fine sugar

Preheat oven to 375°F / 180°C and cover baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, mix flour, salt, sugar, and baking powder. Add butter in cubes. With your fingertips, quickly work butter into dry ingredients until small crumbs form. with a wooden spoon work in egg yolks until smooth dough forms. Finish with a few quick turns bey hand. Pad dough into a 1 inch disk, wrap with wax paper and chill in refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

Roll out chilled dough onto the baking sheet lined with parchment paper. With your fingers form a small rim on the edges. With a fork poke several wholes into the dough and bake for 20 minutes. Set aside for 10 minutes to let cool down.

Mix rhubarb cubes with 50 g of berry preserve, add flour and cinnamon. With the wisk attachemnt of a stand mixer or a hand mixer beat egg whites at medieum speed until soft peaks form. Slowly add sugar and keep whisking on high speed until sugar is completely dissolved and mixture is shiny.

With a spoon, spread 50 g of berry preserve on the dough, then add the rhubarb on top. Using a rubber spatula, cover rhubarb with meringue, gently forming peaks and valleys as you go along.

Bake for another 20 minutes until meringue peaks start to trun golden brown. Reduce heat to 140°F/60°C, crack oven door open with a wooden spoon, and dry out meringue for another 15 minutes.

Serve while still warm and the meringue still crunchy. To keep, cover loosely with a dish cloth and store for another day at room temperature. Don’t be surprised when the base and the meringue might get a little soft. This will make for a very juicy, deliciously tart pastry delight! On very hot summer days refrigeration might be advisable.








in bavaria, there is no real need for homemade pretzels. almost any pretzel you buy is superior to anything you will produce at home, especially when it comes to the crisp, salty, honey colored and distinctly sweet scented crust.

however, living on the other side of the ocean, this is a totally different challenge. for the longest time i have been searching for the secret of making soft pretzels from scratch that taste like the pretzels from the corner bakeries of my hometown. nothing i bought here from the european-style bakeries came close to what i remembered. there are few things my alpine heart is missing on this side of the ocean, the delicious saltine sweet and savory twist being one of them. hence the need for a soft pretzel exploration in my home kitchen.

crucial to the process is the lye solution, a caustic alcaline solution that cannot be found at your regular grocery store. in addition to it’s limited availability it is also very acidic and should only be handled with protective gear, not something you would want to do in your home kitchen. a baking soda bath turns out to be the alternative.

soft pretzels:
much testing was involved to come up with the mix i am sharing below, the judges of my efforts being incorruptible authorities on the twisted delicacy from early childhood onward, for bavarian toddlers are weaned on pretzels.

for the pretzel dough: 600 g unbleached wheat flour, 50 g packed dark-brown sugar, 375 ml warm water (about 110 degrees), 1 package dried yeast, 10 g salt, vegetable-oil cooking spray

for the soda bath serving as lye:
1 liter of water, 50 g baking soda, 100 ml pale ale-style beer, 1 tbsp brown sugar, coarse salt,

sprinkle with:
poppy seeds, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, caraway seeds, sesame seeds (optional)

in a medium bowl, mix together warm water, yeast, and brown sugar; let stand until foamy, 5 to 10 minutes.

in the bowl of an electric mixer, combine flour and salt using your hands. add yeast mixture and, still using your hands or a wooden spoon, combine until a shaggy dough is formed and water is absorbed.

using the dough-hook attachment, mix dough on medium-low speed until tight, elastic, and smooth. spray a large bowl with vegetable oil, set dough into bowl, cover tightly with a lid or plastic wrap. let dough rise at room temperature for about one hour.

preheat oven to 430°F/225°C, with rack in upper third. lightly coat a baking sheet with cooking spray or cover with parchment paper.

shape dough into a log. cut dough into about eight pieces, each about 1 inch wide. working with one piece at a time, roll dough into long strip and form into pretzel shape. if you have difficulty shaping the pretzels, form rolls, they taste just as good.

in a wide pot, combine water, baking soda, beer, and brown sugar. bring to a simmer over medium-high. simmer pretzels, one at a time, about 30 seconds each, holding them under surface of water, if necessary, with a wide slotted spoon or spatula transfer to prepared baking sheet.

sprinkle pretzels with pretzel salt and/or desired toppings, using one topping or combining different ones. transfer to oven and bake 20 – 25 minutes until crust is golden. transfer pretzels to a wire rack to cool.


sharing wisdom

german cheescake (1 of 1)

earlier this year, I started sharing wisdom. i pulled out the cookbook my mother had given me when i left my original home. it is the most seasoned of my travel companions, not only in appearance, but also my closet one with many of the recipes telling stories of my journey through life. it talks about a favorite lentil stew that would calm me down after a rough day. it recalls moments of making new friends over a sweet scented apricot streusel cake. it harbors cherished memories of the still very tiny little miss and herr erfinder devouring ‘griesnockerl’, the bavarian version of matzo balls. it preserves favorite lunchtime eats of doughy pancakes, the southern german equivalent of the french crepes. and, it also is my most valuable directory to the art of german pastry baking.

during the past winter, i had started to plan a few classes in crochet and embroidery, intending to bring back a rythm of meaningful occupation after the move. they were to be taught at the adult and community education program here. little did i know that instead of exploring the realm of fiber arts i would end up sharing wisdom about the german tradition of ‘kaffeeklatsch’. the odds and ends life leaves us hanging with for the longest time, often come to full circle at moments we are least expecting it. it seems i had to cross an ocean to be able to share what i know best: baking pastry in a spring pan.

since, i have connected with many lovely people over mastering the art of short crust and yeast dough. most delightful are the exchanges across cultures and traditions. with all the differences in background and experiences we are bringing to the table, there is a distinct comfort in the shared delight of a fine piece of pastry made from scratch. no matter where we originally came from, universal is the experience of preserving culinary memories of the past we left behind and adapting them to the new environment we find ourselves in.

adapted as well is the recipe below from the one i found here. it hits the mark in the best possible way when baking a german cheesecake in ‘quark’ diaspora. it also relieves me of the stress of having to scout for the rare and usually most expensive occasion to find quark on the shelves of a grocery store far away from my usually hunts. for a taste of summer, drop a handful of blueberries or raspberries on the crust before you spread the filling on top.

for the crust:
150 g unbleached, all purpose pastry flour, substitute with whole wheat flour for a more nutty flavor, 1 tsp baking powder, 50 g cane sugar, 1 tsp vanilla extract, a pinch of salt, 1 egg, 75 g butter
for the filling: 750 g cream cheese, 100 g cane sugar, 1 (organic) lemon, zest grated and juice, 4 eggs, separated,
powdered sugar for dusting

butter and flour spring pan. Attach paddle to stand mixer or mix by hand in a large bowl: combine flour, baking powder, sugar, vanilla, salt, egg and butter in cubes into a smooth dough. roll out 2/3 of the dough at the size of the spring form between two sheets of wax paper. line the bottom of the form with the dough. use leftover dough to press into a rim along the sides of the spring form. chill crust for about 30 minutes.

preheat oven to 400°F/200°C. bake pie crust for ten minutes. take out pie crust, set aside to cool and reduce heat to 350°F/175°C.

for the filling beat the egg whites with whisk attachment until stiff peaks form. move egg whites into a different bowl. In the bowl of the mixer whisk cream cheese, egg yolks, sugar, lemon zest and lemon juice into a smooth cream. fold in the egg whites. spread filling evenly onto crust, bake cake for another 60 – 70 minutes until golden brown and knife or toothpick comes out clean. turn off the heat, crack the oven door and let cake cool down inside the oven. dust with powdered sugar. eat while still warm or refrigerate to keep for another two days.




pink lining

raspberry bars (1 of 1)
in february, some time around valentine’s day winter left us.
the young ones had hoped for a blizzard to keep them from school at least for a week. instead, there was not a single snow day, only some two hour delays occurred due to heavy winds and some flurries. winter left us utterly disappointed.

and then, spring almost hit us unexpectantly and with a forceful strive. bright sunshine, deep blue skies, a pleasant breeze called for the magnolia trees to dust off their glorious pink gowns. we kicked off shoes and socks and strolled down the warm slope behind our house still clad in winter’s dry grass. blissful are those first dreamy moments of early spring when nature switches from sepia to technicolor, when cheeks turn rosy and heart and mind are budding with plans for outdoor delights.

our gardners’ dreams are of raspberries. in fact, two stalks are waiting to be planted in freshly tilled soil. awaiting a future of bountiful harvest to be turned into almond glazed raspberry streusel bars, full of juicy fruit flavor and fine caramel aroma, the recipe inspired by sugar mama’s bakeshop, adapted from the one transcribed here.

for the crust:
470 g pastry flour, 320 g coconut sugar, a pinch of salt, grated zest of one lemon, 375 g chilled butter cut in cubes
preheat oven at 180°C. butter and flour a 20 x 30 cm baking pan. in a large bowl combine flour, sugar, salt, lemon zest. with a pastry blender or with finger tips quickly cut butter into the flour mixture until small crumbs are forming. press about three quarters of the dough into the baking pan, forming a small rim on the sides. chill crust and remainder of the streusel dough in refrigerator. after 30 minutes of chilling bake crust for about 15 minutes until golden brown. take crust from the oven and set aside to cool.

for the filling:
500 g raspberries, fresh from your imaginary garden patch or frozen from the freezer aisle, 90 g light cane sugar, 1 tablespoon cornstarch or flour
in a saucepan or small pot stir together raspberries, sugar and cornstarch. heat over medium heat about two minutes, constantly stirring, until sugar and cornstarch dissolve and berries are juicy. set aside to cool.

pour filling over half baked crust. take remaining dough from refrigerator and spread it over the fillig in coarse crumbs. bake for another 25 minutes.

for the glaze:
100 g powdered sugar, 2-3 tablespoons heavy cream, some drops of almond extract
whisk almond extract into sugar, carefully add cream one spoon at a time until a very thick frosting forms. with a small spoon drizzle frosting over the top of the streusel cake. chill cake for at least one hour and cut into bars.

this march, there is a pink lining on the horizon, enchantingly sweet and delightfully tart.


fresh start

sourdough flakes (1 of 1)

twentysixteen turned my world upside down. after packing up for more than six months and finally crossing the ocean in late summer we set out to conquer a new world. however, late in that year this happy endeavor came to a grinding halt. enthusiasm evaporated, energy waned. i had underestimated the power of change in mid life, and the challenge of blending two families’ practices and routines into one seemed almost to huge a task to be tackled, never mind all the good intentions that came along with it. nerves blank, emotions felt raw, edges were sharp, hurtful almost was the realization how hard it is to leave a whole life behind and to start all over again.

what to do when the dynamic of change seems overwhelming? how to curb enthusiasm and impatience in tow when all there is to do is to sit back and let things go their way? i had visited many times to feel out what life would look like over here. in fact, i had jumped into a chushioned couch, guided by a loving hand, rather than taking a leap from a cliff into the unknown. Yet, it felt like I kept on falling, never reaching the ground.

a fresh start never comes easy. like a starter built from scratch it needs time to develop drive and power. patience is key to a steady rise and and a strong structure. i learned from baking what it takes to reground myself. i understand the frailty of the process, and if not always ready to commit to it, at least i am able to accept it. there is distinct comfort in the weekly routine of preparing the leaven, selecting the types of flower to build the loaf, filling the house with the warm scent of freshly baked bread. crisp crust and airy crumb, holding hands, happily combining the old and the new in life.

sourdough rye bread (1 of 1)

twentyseventeen is well under way. mid february now, days are longer, routines are stronger. there is less struggle, familiarity and comfort prevail over feelings of loss. a fresh start calls for a symbol of change. despite my insecurities, i will give it a try. the tone might be slightly different, english is after all not my native tongue. like the leaven, that i take out of its rest every friday morning, i will dilligently go about my ever evolving task.

and, given enough time i will be just the same.


brittle – brüchig


Brüchig fühlt er sich an, der Boden auf dem wir erst kürzlich gelandet sind. Erschütterung zu sehen, zu hören, zu lesen überall. Der Posteingang geflutet mit Bei- und Mitleidsbekundungen von fern, Erstarrung bei vielen, die in unserer Nähe sind. Es braucht eine Zeit des Trauerns um Werte, die scheinbar verfallen sind.

Wie erklärt man in diesen Tage der kleinen Miss und dem Herrn Erfinder, was ihnen die Zukunft bringen soll? Gäste sind wir nur in diesem Land, wir sehen zu und haben Respekt vor Dingen, die uns nicht erklärbar sind. Dennoch, die Suche nach Worten fällt nicht leicht. Was unsere Gastgeber entschieden haben, reicht weit hinein in unser Leben. Auch unsere Stimme zählt, selbst wenn sie bei dieser Wahl nicht zählte. Es bleibt uns die Besinnung auf Werte, die uns wichtig sind, den Glauben zu erhalten und Einstehen für Menschlichkeit und Wärme. Mitgeben will ich den beiden den Mut, nicht aufzugeben, die innerer Haltung zu wahren, der eigenen Richtung zu folgen und auzusprechen, an was sie glauben. Auch wir haben diesem Land etwas zu geben, dessen Tradition und Werte die seiner unzähligen Einwanderer ist.


Wir wandern also weiter, tief hinein in unser Leben hier.
Es gibt kein Zurück, nur Vorwärts, aufrecht, mit Mut und Herz und Verstand.


wurzeln schlagen – putting down roots


Fein sind sie noch, harwurzelgleich, feiner Flaum spriest jeden Tag ein wenig mehr, wir wurzeln uns ein und strecken unsere Fühler aus in der neuen Heimat. Der Kopf sagt, es waren nur zwei Wochen seit unserem Sprung über den Ozean, das Gefühl sagt, es war jede Menge mehr. Der neue Alltag hat uns umfangen, hält uns in Atem und hilft uns beim Niederlassen. Neues wird erobert und alte Freunde wiederentdeckt, so kürzlich zum Wochenende geschehen in einer gastfreundlichen Küche nicht weit von hier. Grüne Hügel umfingen sanft die städtischen Besucher, unwillkürlich erfasste unbändiger Forscherdrang die kleine Miss, den Fährtensucher und den Herrn Erfinder.

Die Kulinarik kam nicht zu kurz in dieser sonnenhellen Küche. Farm to fork im ganz besonders wahrsten Sinn des Wortes. Wir schmeckten, wir lernten, wir hörten, zum Abend dann klangen blue grass Töne von rostroten Scheunenwänden. Facettenreich ist dieses Land, das uns nun ein Zuhause gibt.


Berührt im Herzen verließen wir den liebreizenden Fleck mit feinen Dingen im Gepäck. Nachklingend das Wochenende mit peach cobbler, Pfirsiche unter Mürbteighauben in gußeiserner Pfanne gebacken, das Rezept von hier mit Kokosblütenzucker und Kokosraspel abgewandelt.

Zutaten für den Teig: 1 1/4 Tassen Mehl, 1/2Tasse brauner Zucker, 1 1/2 Teelöffel Backpulver,  1 Teelöffel Salz, 6 Eßlöffel Butter, in Würfel, 1/2 Tasse Schlagsahne, 1/2 Tasse Kokosraspel
Zutaten für das Fruchtmus: 5-6 Pfirsiche, in Spalten, 1 Tasse Kokosblütenzucker, 2 Eßlöffel Wasser, 2 Teelöffel Stärkemehl

Den Ofen auf 180°C vorheizen. Die trocken Zutaten für den Teig in einer Schüssel vermischen, die Butterwürfel hinzufügen und mit den Fingerspitzen in die Mehlmischung einarbeiten, bis sich kleine Krümel formen. Sahne und Kokosraspel hinzufügen und alles schnell zu einem krümeligen Teig verkneten. In Wachspapier einwickeln und 30 Minuten im Kühlschrank ruhen lassen.

Für das Fruchtmus Pfirsiche und Kokosblütenzucker in der gußeisernen Pfanne ca. 8 Minuten weichkochen, dabei ab und zu umrühren. Währenddessen das Stärkemehl in zwei Eßlöffel Wasser auflösen, zum Pfirsichkompott geben und noch etwa 2 Minuten eindicken lassen.

Den Teig in acht Stücke teilen und jeweils zu Scheiben formen. Die Teighäubchen auf die Fruchtmischung setzen, mit etwas Zucker bestreuen und alles ca. 30 Minuten im Ofen überbacken. Noch warm servieren.


Wir lernen und wurzeln weiter.