I put figs in the same camp as black licorice: People love them—or hate them. There never seems to be a middle ground.

If you’re in the first group, then man-oh-man, are you in for a treat.

Personally, I love figs. (And black licorice, if you’re keeping score.) They’re sweet; they’re earthy. Not to mention, they’re also nutritional powerhouses. Fresh figs are a great source of vitamins B6 and K, manganese, potassium, and fiber.

Ya, ya, I know it’s questionable to call them healthy when they’re drenched in maple syrup…But still.

I think the only thing that would make these better is if they were sprinkled with crispy bits of bacon. (Hmm, now there’s an idea.)

I got on my most recent fig kick when I was testing recipes last month for my cookbook, Slushed. The Whiskey & Fig Gelato I came up with is now a house favorite. This would make an amazing topping.

These little babies are really simple to make. Just find the ripest figs you can. (I used black mission, but you could do this with Turkish, too.) Slice them in half. Drench them with maple syrup. Sprinkle with spices and roast for about 15 minutes.

As the figs heat up, they start to let out their luscious juice. It mingles with the maple syrup and creates a heavenly sauce that’s fragrant with thyme and black pepper.

That’s it.

How can you tell when figs are ripe?

Good question. A ripe fig will feel be soft to the touch—but not too soft. It should feel like a ready-to-eat peach or avocado. You want it to have a little give to the skin and flesh, but not feel mushy.

Figs are one of those fruits that need to be picked when ripe (they won’t continue to ripen after picked, like an avocado). For this reason, be sure you’re happy with the ones you bring home from the market, ’cause they ain’t gonna get any better on your counter.

What do you do with roasted figs?

The short and not-very-helpful answer is: What can’t you do with them?

The longer but still not very precise answer is: Roasted figs work well in both sweet and savory dishes. Here are a handful of ideas.

• Serve as part of a cheese plate with goat cheese, brie, Stilton, briny olives, and a loaf of crusty bread (oh and maybe some creamy roasted garlic for good measure)
• Use to top ice cream—or add to homemade ice cream in the last five minutes of churning
• Toss them into pancake batter
• Spread them on toast
• Nestle between the layers of an autumn spice cake
• Eat them straight out of the bowl. (Let’s face it, they’re delicous!)

You get where I’m going.

This recipe uses 1 lb. of figs and serves about 8 as an app. Scale it up or down to fit your needs.

Alrighty, To the ovens!

Maple Roasted Figs

1 lb. black mission figs (about 28)
1/3 cup maple syrup
1 teaspoon thyme
Freshly cracked black pepper

Serves about 8 as an appetizer

Prep the figs

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. Line a sheet pan with parchment paper and set aside.

Grab a fig.

Nip off his stem with a sharp little knife.

Slice him in half and put him on your prepared pan.

Repeat until you’ve assembled a happy little army of sliced figs.

Season the figs

Douse the figs with maple syrup.

Toss gently with your hands to coat. (I do all of this in one pan to save on dishes. You could certainly mix them up in a bowl, if you’d prefer.)

Sprinkle with thyme and freshly cracked black pepper. I only had dried thyme on hand, but by all means, use the fresh herb if you have it.

Roast the figs

Pop the pan into your preheated 375-degree oven. Roast for about 15 minutes, until the juice starts to run and they’re deliciously fragrant. You don’t want to cook them too long or they’ll turn to mush.

Yank the pan out of the oven.

Cool to room temperature on the pan. (The sauce will get thicker as it cools.)

Serve however you like (see above for suggestions). Enjoy!

Storing roasted figs

If you need to keep them, ideally store them covered, in a single layer on a plate. If you don’t have that much room to spare in the fridge, stack them up neatly in a container and scrape all that lovely syrup over them.

One warning about storing them like this. If you’re going for a big aesthetic bang with them, they may get a little squashed like this (but they’ll still be just as delicious).

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The other day, we talked about how to make your own ricotta at home. It’s so simple and so good. (And will only take you about 20 minutes. Maybe not even.)

Homemade ricotta is delicious on its own, drizzled with good olive oil and a little sea salt—or dolloped on fresh pasta, or spread in silky layers in lasagna.

It also makes a fabulous addition to this traditional Italian cake, the Torta di Ricotta (a.k.a. Ricotta Cake). I found this recipe on Culinary Types by T.W. Barritt. He adapted it from The Silver Spoon, that bible-thick tome of traditional Italian recipes.

I made a few changes (light brown sugar to dark, increased the lemon zest, etc.), and was so, so happy with the results.

This cake was a cinch to throw together. It’d be perfect for Sunday brunch—or whenever you have unexpected guests drop by.

This cake is like a coffee cake, but better. It’s rich, but still manages to have a light crumb. It gets a subtle, molasses-tinged sweetness from dark brown sugar, and a burst of brightness from a generous amount of fresh lemon zest. (Orange zest would be great, too.)

A sprinkling of dark brown sugar on the top right before you pop it into the oven gives the cake a slightly crackle-y, sugar-glazed crust.

It’s delicious served with piping hot espresso.

What kind of cake pan should you use?

I made this in my 9 1/2-inch springform pan.

Mr. Barritt used a fluted tart pan with a removable bottom. If you don’t have a cake pan with a bottom that comes out, lightly grease your pan and line the bottom with parchment paper for easier cake removal.

If you make it in a smaller pan (say, if you only have an 8-inch cake pan at home), increase the cooking time a little to account for a thicker cake.

To the ovens!

Torta di Ricotta

Adapted from Culinary Types & The Silver Spoon

Butter for the pan
2 1/4 cups flour
4 eggs
1/2 cup dark brown sugar; extra for sprinkling
1 3/4 cups ricotta
zest from 1 lemon
5 Tbls. olive oil
3/4 cup milk
1 Tbls. baking powder

Yields 1 (9 1/2-inch) cake

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Lightly grease your pan with butter. Set it aside.

Make the ricotta cake batter

Put the eggs in a large mixing bowl. Beat well.

Toss in the brown sugar.

Whisk together until frothy.

Toss in the ricotta and the lemon zest. (Admittedly, this is kind of icky looking. Trust me: Just keep going.)

Add the olive oil and milk.

Whisk together to combine well.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour and baking powder.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients.

Stir until the batter just comes together.

It will be thick. (Like, really thick.)

Bake the ricotta cake

Spoon the batter into your prepared pan.

Spread the batter out and smooth the surface down with a spatula or wooden spoon.

Sprinkle the top generously with more dark brown sugar.

Pop the pan into your preheated oven. Bake at 350 degrees for about 35-40 minutes, until the top is nicely browned and a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean.

Cool it in the pan for about 10 minutes.

Unmold it and finish cooling on a rack.

Keeps well, tightly wrapped on the counter, for about 3 days.

Enjoy!

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Warning: Baking this cake will fill your kitchen with the irresistible smell of oranges.

This is a slightly modified version of a recipe I saw recently in Saveur. It’s a buttery pound cake shot through with freshly grated orange zest and soaked with sweet orange syrup.

Next time, I’m going to monkey around with the recipe and try it with lemons. Oooh, or maybe blood oranges. Yeah.

Be sure to pour the glaze over the cake when it’s still warm to help the cake absorb the syrup.

A note on creaming butter and sugar together

This is an interesting recipe. Most pound cake recipes call for creaming the butter and sugar together before adding the dry ingredients. This incorporates air into the batter. And more air means a lighter, fluffier cake.

This recipe, however, tells you to use your stand mixer to whisk softened butter into the flour mixture—and THEN add the liquid ingredients.

I was really curious how it would work. The short answer? It was great.

What’s the difference between cake flour and regular flour?

This recipe calls for cake flour. You can substitute regular, all-purpose flour if you don’t have any on hand. Your cake will just be a little coarser in texture.

Cake flour is made from soft wheat, which has less protein and gluten than all-purpose flour, so it’ll produce a finer-textured cake.

I usually use regular old Softasilk from the grocery store. King Arthur Flour’s Queen Guinevere Cake Flour is great, too.

Serve with a steaming cup of tea—or a glass or two of champagne.

Orange Pound Cake

Adapted from Saveur

Cake
13 Tbsp. unsalted butter, softened to room temp + more for greasing the pan
3 Tbsp. milk
3 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups cake flour
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 tsp. baking powder
2 Tbsp. grated orange zest (1 large orange should be enough)

Glaze
1/3 cup orange juice
1/3 cup sugar
2 Tbls. triple sec, or other orange liqueur

Yields 1 loaf

Before you start

• Be sure to leave the butter out on the counter for maybe 20 minutes to soften up.
• Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
• Generously butter a 1-lb. (which is standard) glass loaf pan and set it aside.

Zest the orange

Grab your orange.

Scrape off the zest with a microplane or the smallest holes on a regular cheese grater. Just scrape off the top, orange layer. Avoid the white layer beneath, which is bitter as can be. I usually zest fruit over a piece of wax paper or parchment paper. Makes it easy to corral it all when you need to measure.

Combine the eggs and milk

Put the eggs, milk, and vanilla in a bowl.

Whisk together. Set it aside while you deal with the dry ingredients.

Make the cake batter

Put the flour, sugar, and baking powder in the bowl of your stand mixer. Give them a stir to combine with your whisk attachment, then attach the whole business to your stand mixer.

Toss in the orange zest. Turn your mixer on low and mix until the zest is incorporated.

Cut the butter into tablespoons. (If you’re outside the U.S. and don’t get your butter by the stick, just cut it into 13 even pieces.) Turn your mixer on low. Toss in one piece of butter. Mix until it’s completely incorporated.

Repeat until you’ve added all the butter. As you work the butter into the flour, the mixture will start to resemble little crumbs.

When you’ve added all the butter, your bowl should look about like this:

With the mixer running on low, slowly pour in the egg/milk mixture.

Mix until you’ve added it all and the batter *just* comes together. When it looks like this, stop. (No really, stop.) It will be a little mealy looking. That’s just fine. Don’t overmix it. (Basically, the minute you get flour wet and mix it, it starts to develop gluten, which can make your cake tough.)

Bake the pound cake

Pour the batter out into your prepared pan.

Give it a few swipes with a rubber spatula or a clean finger to even out the surface.

Pop the pan into your preheated, 350-degree oven. Bake for 55 – 60 minutes.

Start checking it after maybe 30 minutes. If the top and/or edges look like they’re browning too fast, slip a piece of aluminum foil over the pan loosely, like this:

Tips for knowing when the cake is done

When it’s done, the cake will be golden brown on top. When you press on it lightly with a finger, the cake will spring back (not stay indented). And, when you insert a toothpick in the middle, it should come out clean.

When the cake is done, cool it in the pan for a few minutes. While it’s cooling, make the glaze.

Make the orange glaze

Put the sugar, orange juice, and orange liqueur in a heavy-bottomed, 1-quart pot.

Set the pot on the stove over medium-high heat. Whisk until the sugar dissolves.

Bring the mixture up to a boil, whisking often. Keep a close eye on it. A 1-quart pot is a short little thing, and this mixture likes to boil over if left unattended.

Boil the mixture until it’s reduced by about half. It should be thick and syrupy.

Set the glaze aside for a minute while you liberate your cake from its pan.

Remove the cake from the pan

Put a few paper towels on the counter. Set a rack on top of them.

After 5-10 minutes, run a butter knife in between the cake and the pan to loosen the sides. Flip the pan over and gently shake the pan a few times to release the cake. Set it gently on the rack. (Be careful, it can crack if you’re too rough with it.)

Mmmm, warm cake…

Poke holes in the cake with a skewer

Grab a wooden skewer. (Or a metal one, or a cake tester, or anything that resembles a long toothpick.)

Poke holes all over the top of your cake. (Insert the skewer about 3/4 of the way through the cake.)

These holes will let the glaze sink into the cake, so make a lot of them.

Now, Saveur recommends brushing the top of the cake with a few layers of the glaze. For the life of me, I couldn’t find my brushes (no, not any of them), so I just poured the glaze over the warm cake and kind of brushed it around with my very clean paw. (Check first to be sure it’s cool enough to handle.)

It worked just fine. Just pour slowly, spreading it around with your hand as you go.

Cool the cake to room temperature before slicing.

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So here’s the thing. I liked this cake so much that I immediately had to get it out of the house so I didn’t gobble down the entire pan.

Find the logic in that, I know.

The Angry Chef and I brought it with us when we went to hang out with our good friends over at Rippin Kitten, and everyone agreed: It was strange, for a cake. But it was undeniably delicious.

This cake is more of a coffee cake—not a sugary sweet dessert cake. It’s the kind of thing you’d have for breakfast, or serve with brunch.

Truth be told, it’s kind of like a giant danish.

It’s a sweetened yeast dough on the bottom that’s crowned with a layer of ooey-gooey, butter-y goodness that’s the consistency of pecan pie. The surface is just a little chewy, and gets dusted with powdered sugar right before serving.

It’s sweet without being too sweet, making it a perfect thing to have for breakfast.

About St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake

Being a Boston gal, I had to rely on info from the interwebs for this part. If you know about this cake, definitely pipe up in comments!

So, gooey butter cake is a traditional treat in St. Louis, Missouri.

The cake was originally made with a yeasted sweet dough, but now more commonly is built on a base of yellow cake. The top is a sweetened, gooey mixture that includes eggs and cream cheese.

Legend has it that this cake first turned up in the 1930s, by accident. A German baker confused sugar and flour when making a coffee cake, and…voila! The gooey butter cake was born.

(There seem to be a few versions of this story. Check them out here.)

How to Make St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake

I had this recipe from the New York Times tucked away. You can see why I clipped it out in the first place. With the words “gooey,” “butter,” and “cake,” I figured it would be right up my alley.

I was right.

This is a pretty easy cake to make. That said, it’s not fast.

First, you make a yeasted sweet dough and let it rise for 2-3 hours. (Sweet doughs tend to take longer to rise than regular dough.)

Then, you make the topping, spread it on, and bake it for about 40 minutes.

It poofs up in the oven, then sinks and settles as it cools.

St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake

From The New York Times

Cake
3 Tbls. milk, at room temperature
2 Tbls. water
1 3/4 tsp. active dry yeast
6 Tbls. unsalted butter, at room temperature
3 Tbls. sugar
1 tsp. kosher salt
1 egg
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

Topping
3 Tbls. + 1 tsp. light corn syrup
2 Tbls. water
2 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
12 Tbls. unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1 egg
1 cup + 3 Tbls. flour

Confectioners’ sugar, for dusting

Yields 1 (9×13-inch) cake

Lightly grease a 9 x 13 inch glass baking pan. Set it aside.

Dissolve the yeast

Put the milk and water in a small bowl.

Toss in the yeast.

Give it a stir to start to dissolve the yeast.

Let it sit for a few minutes while you start the dough.

Make the dough

Toss the butter, sugar, and salt in the bowl of your mixer. (Or in a large mixing bowl if you’re using a handheld mixer or beating by hand.)

Beat them until they’re well combined.

You’re looking for a sparkly paste, like this:

Toss in the egg. Beat until well incorporated.

Add the flour.

With the mixer running on low, pour in the milk/water/yeast mixture.

When you’ve poured it all in, increase the speed of your mixer a little and beat for a few minutes, until the dough is smooth and pulls away from the bowl easily.

Like this:

Put the dough in your baking dish.

Smoosh it down with your hands…

…so that it fills the entire bottom of the pan.

Cover the pan with plastic wrap. Set it in a warm place to rise for 2-3 hours, or until doubled in height.

Make the topping

When your dough has risen, it will look decidedly poofy. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Grab your corn syrup. If you’re in America, that most likely means a bottle of Karo syrup. (Find it in the baking aisle of your grocery store.)

Put the corn syrup, water, and vanilla in a small bowl. Whisk together until it’s uniform. (The corn syrup is thick, so it’ll take a minute or two to distribute.)

Toss the butter and sugar in the bowl of your mixer.

Beat together until well combined. Scrape down the sides of the bowl.

Toss in the egg. (Sounds familiar, eh? Don’t worry. The proportions are totally different from the sweet dough you made earlier.)

Beat until you have a happy, uniform paste.

Toss in the flour.

With the mixer running on low, drizzle in the corn syrup mixture.

Beat until it’s incorporated.

Assemble the cake

Spoon the topping in big blops on top of the risen sweet dough.

With a spatula, gently spread the topping so that it covers the dough. Be careful not to push down too hard. You don’t want to deflate the dough underneath.

Pop the pan into your pre-heated 350-degree oven. Bake for about 40 minutes, until the top is golden brown.

As it bakes, the topping (which has a ton of butter) will liquify and smooth out.

Yank the pan out of the oven after about 40 minutes. It may still be a little wobbly. That’s just fine.

The middle of the cake should look about like this.

The edges will be a little darker, like this. (Your cake may be poofed up when you take it out of the oven. It will settle after a few minutes.)

Cool the cake in the pan to room temp before slicing.

Serve dusted with powdered sugar.

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This is not a fancy tart. It’s not one of those gorgeous, fresh-fruit-and-custard puff pastry things that looks like a piece of art. I’ll make you one of those one of these days. Don’t get me wrong: Those are lovely, too. But, this…this is messy and delicious and is the kind of thing that you want to eat in the kitchen, sticky and standing up, because you just can’t wait.

The filling is light and fresh. The black pepper and thyme accent the sweetness of the berries and the jam.

Fresh thyme

The puff pastry is glazed with a basic egg wash, then dusted with sugar laced with ground cardamom.

This tart is kind of runny when it comes out of the oven, but it sets up nicely as it cools in the fridge. The sauce thickens to a syrupy consistency. The whole thing is unbelievably light and crisp and kind of like a danish.

If you wanted to firm the sauce up, you could whisk a little cornstarch into the apricot jam after microwaving.

Like I said, this tart is great on its own. Take it over the top with some fresh whipped cream and a pitcher of frosty mimosas.

Strawberry Brunch Tart with Thyme and Black Pepper

1 sheet of frozen puff pastry, thawed
1 egg, beaten
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp. ground cardamom
1 lb. fresh strawberries, sliced
3 Tbls. apricot jam
1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves
cracked black pepper

Makes 1 tart

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat and set aside. About 20 minutes before baking, preheat your oven to 425 degrees.

Strawberry Brunch Tart: Thaw the puff pastry

Set your puff pastry on the counter to thaw for 20-30 minutes.

While you’re waiting for it to thaw, make the cardamom sugar and slice up the berries.

Strawberry Brunch Tart: Make the cardamom sugar

Cardamom sugar is just like cinnamon sugar, except made with cardamom instead. It’s super yummy, and this recipe makes a little more than you’ll probably need. Tuck it away to sprinkle on buttered toast or pancakes.

Put the sugar in a small bowl. Add the cardamom to it.

With a fork or a whisk, mix the cardamom and sugar together until they’re evenly combined.

Set that aside while you deal with the berries.

Strawberry Brunch Tart: Slice and mix the berries

Put the apricot jam in a small bowl. Zap it in the microwave for maybe 20 seconds, to loosen it up oh-so-slightly. (No microwave? Heat it in a small pot over a very low flame for a minute or so, stirring until it breaks down.)

It should sort of liquify and look more jelly-like, like this, without getting too hot.

Slice up your strawberries and put them in a medium-sized bowl.

Pour the apricot jam over the strawberries.

Stir to coat the strawberries in apricot jam.

Toss in the thyme and the freshly cracked black pepper.

Stir to combine well. Set aside while you roll out the puff pastry.

Strawberry Brunch Tart: Prep the puff pastry

Lightly flour a board or your counter. If you have it, a slab of marble or granite is great for rolling out puff pastry, because it stays cold and will help keep it from sticking.

Unfold the puff pastry and roll it out a little to flatten it and seal any seams. This is a fairly rustic tart, so don’t make yourself nuts trying to roll it into a perfect square or rectangle.

Crack an egg into a bowl.

Whisk it with a fork to scramble it well.

With a pastry brush (or your fingers), spread the beaten egg along each edge of the puff pastry.

Fold one edge over about three-quarters of an inch or so.

Repeat with the other three sides, so that your puff pastry looks like it has a picture frame around it.

Brush the edges with beaten egg.

Sprinkle the whole thing (edges + center) with cardamom sugar.

Strawberry Brunch Tart: Fill and bake

Heap the strawberry mixture onto the center of the puff pastry. (Normally, with puff pastry, you’d prick the center of the pastry several times with a fork to keep it from poofing up in the oven. Do this if you like, but I’ve found that the weight of the berries will keep the pastry down in the middle.)

Keep the berries in the center, off the folded border that you made.

Don’t worry if you’ve piled them up high. They’ll shrink when they bake.

Pop the pan into your preheated oven. Bake for about 20 minutes at 425 degrees.

It’s done when the edges have poofed up and have turned golden brown. The berries will cook down, but will still hold their shape.

When it’s done, yank the pan out of the oven. Let it cool for about 5 minutes on the pan.

Then slide it off onto a wire rack to cool.

Strawberry Brunch Tart: Cool the tart

If you can bear to wait, let it cool to room temperature on the counter, then pop it into the fridge to chill completely. (This will help the filling set up a little.)

To serve, slice into fat wedges. Devour at will.

Enjoy!

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