Still Life, Pt. 2

The more I look at the tubes of Alizarin Crimson and Sap Green, the more I realize that this project might come out more abstract than I originally imagined! The colors tempt me. I'm not going to fight it. When I close my eyes and think about what comes next, I see glimpses of purple in the shadows and the merest hint of pure red accentuating the highlighted curve of the pear with the elongated neck in the front. The direction this painting is taking is one that I feel I'm not consciously in charge of, that my next moves are based off of knowing what to do, and not so much deciding.

 

I was feeling a small amount of regret for going so heavy with the Lamp Black at the start of the painting, but I'm slowly beginning to understand the forgiving nature of oil paints. It's easy to get carried away and apply to much too quickly! Their only requirement for me is that I hold my patience long enough for the latest layer to dry- which is suprisingly more bearable than I anticipated, as I can clean up and walk away for a good 24 hours before coming back.    

 



Intensifying the blue of the table, and making a bold decision
to fill the empty white space with (what will become) a patterned rug.
I love the contrast of the opposite colors, Cobalt Blue and Yellow Ochre.



Still Life, pt. 1

Four beautiful Bosc pears, afternoon light from a south facing window; this one picture is one of about fifty I took in order to find the right combination of the natural and unstructured with hints of order. My process? Gathering the pears up in my arms, setting them on a surface, and rearranging one or two to suit my aesthetic goal. I can't believe there are food photographers out there that consume their entire careers doing such things...

Blank 16" x 20" canvas, and photo for reference.
I decided not to try and copy the photograph, but to use it as guidance for shading and and highlights.

 

Old oil paints, courtesy of my mother, who is an artist if all different kinds.
I've had experience with acrylic and watercolor,
but it's been a while since I last set out to intentionally make a piece of art.
This is my first time using oils!

 

Quick sketch...



Defining the focal points with Lamp Black, establishing shading and highlights...
Getting used to how the medium spreads over the canvas.

Laying out the background, having fun with paint thinner and Cobalt Blue on the table... maybe I'll fill in the empty white space with a patterened rug for added interest. Getting ideas about how I want to build the colors on the pears- aiming for realism with a touch of unexpected and subtle color in the shadows, like... purple, orange.

Torte di Pere (Bittersweet Chocolate and Pear Cake)

The Bosc pears I'd bought ripened just in time to get incorporated into a dessert to bring to the Jack and Jill party for my friends, Erica and Rob, who were a week away from getting married. I'd come across this Italian recipe on the blog Smitten Kitchen, a simple cake batter leavened mostly with eggs, spruced up with the addition of browned butter and studded with chunks of chocolate and pear. It sounded a little exotic.

The recipe goes as follows..

1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 eggs, room temperature
1 stick unsalted butter
3/4 cup sugar
3 pears, peeled, diced small
3/4 cup bittersweet chocolate chunks (I found a chocolate bar at the coop with crystallized ginger... seemed like a reasonable improvisation)

Directions are simple. Preheat oven to 350F, butter and dust cake pan with flour or breadcrumbs. Melt butter and brown over medium heat, stirring frequently to keep the milk solids from sticking. Beat egg yolks and whites together until pale, thick, and shiny, adding the sugar in small amounts.

 Gently fold in the dry ingredients with the brown butter until just combined (careful not to loose volume), distribute into pan. Sprinkle chocolate and pear bits over the batter, bake for 40 - 50 minutes until golden brown and springy to the touch.  


So... I wasn't sure how I'd be able to carry out the recipe without a reliable electric mixer, since I had to set up shop in one of the lower dorm kitchens. Heck, I'd be lucky if there was even a mixing bowl... I imagined having to spend the entire morning hand beating the eggs until my arm fell off. I was prepared to do it, but at the last minute went into the kitchen in the dining hall and Paul, baker extraordinaire, lent me an ancient electric hand mixer that his mother used growing up. Looking through the cupboard in two dorms, I found spatulas and bowls, but no cake pan... but there were plenty of muffin pans.

The Torte di Pere would become Piccolo Tortes di Pere! (not sure if my Italian grammar is correct there...)

It went smoothly- I didn't feel like I had to keep rechecking the recipe to make sure I was getting the proper results at each stage, and get the feeling that unfussy, straightforward recipes like this were the invention of grandmothers and mothers who could make these cakes with a baby balanced on their hip and an eye on the kid running around the house. I think I could probably make this again without looking at the recipe!

The batter rose up and enveloped the chocolate and pear chunks as they baked in the oven, producing these adorable, irregular minicakes that were just sweet enough to nibble on with lightly unsweetened whipped cream. The Bosc pears held up well, just as I'd read- honey sweet and just barely holding onto their characteristic crispness, all which was well moderated the bittersweet chocolate. A beautiful addition to my fall and winter dessert repertoire... 

 

Resources:
Deb. "Bittersweet Chocolate and Pear Cake." Web log post. The Smitten Kitchen. Martha Stewart's Circle Network, 22 Jan. 2009. Web. 9 Nov. 2013. http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2009/01/bittersweet-chocolate-and-pear-cake/.

 

Savory Pear and Stilton Tart

It feels good to have a reason to bake and cook again. Being in school and having all my meals prepared for me (no matter how wonderful and nutritious they are) robs me of one of my creative outlets and ways of expressing my affection to other people.  



Just out of the oven, cheese still bubbling...

This first recipe was improvisioned off of a mushroom and goat cheese tart that I remembered seeing once in my Betty Crocker cookbook. I was thinking about how an important part of culinary education requires a little confidence to experiement and substitute ingredients, switching apples for pears, goat cheese for Stilton... how that principle could apply to increasing the public's acceptance of different varieties of produce and working towards a more colorful diet.

This is a very simple example. I was rushing around Montpelier doing errands, and had only an hour and a half to get ready for a potluck gathering. I'd just spent $15 on several pounds of Scott Farm pears that were all in various stages of ripeness, and the little Bartletts were the ripest and most likely to get bruised on the ride home.

 

Recipe Approximations:

1/4 package of phyllo dough, ideally fully thawed!

1 stick metled butter- 1 tbsp. for the pan, the rest for dough

1 onion, thinly sliced and carmelized in 1 tbsp. olive  oil and 1 tbsp. butter

8 ounces Stilton

4 medium sized pears of your choice (I used Bartlett since they were the ripest ones I bought)

I grabbed a hunk of blue, veiny Stilton cheese and some frozen phyllo dough and hoped that the car was warm enough to thaw it out driving between Montpelier and Barre. Making my own crust would have been preferrable, as I am not a huge fan of "semi-homemade" cooking, but I don't mind taking shortcuts every once in a while. This was for homework, after all...

 

I threw the onions into a pan and watched them slowly transform into a deep mahogany brown mush out of the corner of my eye while I was sliced the four small Bartletts into neat segments. It didn't look like it would be enough to cover the tart, so I volunteered one of the larger, slightly under ripe Magness pear.  



 

The dough had only partially thawed, so by the time I had a baking sheet buttered up and the oven preheated, I knew that it was going to be a bit of a mess pulling the tissue paper-thin layers of dough out of the packaging. They came off in irregular geometric pieces and I did my best to smear melted butter between them with a paper towel brush (I'd also realized that my home kitchen does not have a pastry brush).

The carmelized onions went down first, spread thinly over the dough. I arranged the slices of pears over the top in neat columns, and scattered the crumbled Stilton over the top. Thirty minutes later... 



Someone's fingers got in the picture...tsk!







They were well received, easy finger appetizers that people weren't afraid to take at the potluck. Funny how the dishes that require someone to dare to make the first cut or scoop get a little neglected (maybe there's a self consciousness about eating in public?). I was satisfied with the constrat of the sharp, salty contrast of the Stilton with the sweetness of the pear.