Hello!
Today in a fit of holiday chaos I bring you:
a printable template for making a zine from a piece of 8.5” x 11” paper
a new class
a mildly unhinged recipe
Let’s dive in!
If you read my gift guide, you might remember my plan to gift my niece a zine-making kit for Christmas. I ended up making a printable template that she could fold into a little book, customized with her name, and put it in a box with stamps and stickers. Here’s a version of what I made, with a blank space so you can write whatever name you like. You’ll need a printer that can print a double-sided page - just fold the paper longways, cut along the dotted line, and staple the book together.
I find it’s best to draw on it with colored pencils or crayons versus markers, which tend to bleed through the thinner printer paper I used.
In case you missed it: I have a new class available in my online store! This one is all about how to securely stack tiered cakes, and it comes with a comprehensive video tutorial and a suite of 9 recipes that you can mix and match. I call it Tiny Tiers, because practicing with a small tiered cake is so much easier than trying to stack a massive cake your first time. The finished cake serves around 26 people, so if you want to gift your friend an elopement or baby shower cake next year, you’ll have all the skills you need. Click here to see more about the class (including a list of recommended tools), or click here to gift it to someone else.
I also added new recipes and a Yule Log tutorial to my dome cake class just in time for the solstice. If you’ve already bought the class, you should have gotten the recipes in your inbox - shoot me an email if you don’t see them!
In case you can’t tell, I had an absolute blast writing this next recipe. The following is a paid partnership with California Prunes (but to be clear I did pitch prune whip and they bravely allowed me to follow my dreams).
Justice for Prune Whip
You’ve seen it: on social media, a recipe card or advertisement from the 1950’s will make the rounds to a collective shudder of revulsion. A cloudy tuna salad molded into a bulbous shape and adorned with black olives, contorted hot dogs in aspic, or pureed ham loaves topped with mealy hard boiled eggs, these images are always depicted in fuzzy halftone, a comforting reminder that these dishes remain firmly in the past.
Folks who know I work with California Prunes will often come across one iconic example of this phenomenon and send it to me - a towering glass of prune whip, a mauve mixture flecked with brown and topped with a rosette of cream. The subtext is always the same. Get a load of this??? Can you believe it?
I am here to tell you: I do believe it! Prune whip is actually delicious. I’m not talking about that sad weeping mess of soggy baked meringue and pureed prunes beloved of Dwight Eisenhower, but instead a far more elegant dessert. Instead, whole prunes are simmered until very soft, whizzed into a velvety prune butter, and folded into whipped cream. An intrepid housewife might have once substituted pureed prune baby food as a time-saver, but we certainly don’t have to bring that particular hack along with us into the future. Nor do we need to top it with corn chips, as a vintage Frito’s advertisement suggests.
My own adaptation is more contemporary Paris than 1950’s Des Moines. I cook the prunes down in Armagnac and fold soft mascarpone together with the cream, adding lots of salt and vanilla on the way. I couldn't decide what to call it. Salted Vanilla Prune Mousse? Prune and Armagnac Cream? Neither felt quite right. So, I’ll call it Prune Whip, and I dare you to try it. If you abstain from booze, you can substitute the liquid for earl gray tea for an equally chic version (London Fog Prune Whip, anyone?).
Prune Whip
I piped this cream into decorative glasses for serving. You could top with shaved chocolate or a dusting of cocoa powder for a chic finish. Makes about 5 cups or 6 servings - or cut the recipe in half for a smaller crowd. This may seem like a lot of armagnac, but I promise the result isn’t too booze-forward.
227 grams / 1 packed cup prunes
113 grams / ½ cup armagnac, brandy, or rum
113 grams / ½ cup water
54 grams / ¼ cup brown sugar
454 grams / 2 cups heavy cream
227 grams / 8 ounces mascarpone
100 grams / ½ cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla paste (or extract)
Large pinch salt
Combine the prunes, armagnac, water, and sugar in a medium non reactive pot. Place over high heat and bring to a simmer, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Cook the prunes at a rolling simmer for 3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Allow to cool to just warm.
Using a small blender or food processor, puree the prunes and the liquid together with a pinch of salt until very smooth. Allow the prune puree to cool to room temperature.
Combine the cream, mascarpone, granulated sugar, vanilla paste, and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment. Whisk on low speed in the beginning and gradually raise to medium speed until the cream holds soft peaks. You want to take care not to over-whip it or it might become grainy - err on the side of it being a little loose, as it will firm up when chilled. Taste and add a little more salt if you like.
Fold the prune puree into the whipped cream, using a light touch so as not to overmix it - you want it a little streaky. Pipe or scoop it into your serving glasses immediately. Keep chilled until ready to serve. Alternatively, you can chill the prune whip in a large container and scoop it into glasses later - it firms up as it cools and is capable of holding a quenelle.
My wife is a loud and enthusiastic supporter of Prune Whip yogurt, made by Dannon. Of course, she also used to eat veal loaf, which had a perpetual greenish tinge to it.
prune whip 🤝 date shake