Pumpkin Biscotti With Cranberries And Almonds

Apparently I’m on a pumpkin spree.
Allow me to grin sheepishly and assure you that pumpkin puree season is almost over, a fact that makes me feel both sad and just a little relieved. For Chris, at least. His pumpkin fatiguée has never run so high. (Although one serving of pumpkin pie should cure him of that.)
And admittedly, even my tolerance is beginning to wane. I tend towards the obsessive in many aspects of my life, and pumpkin is one of these things. As well as listening to the same song/album on repeat, wearing the same shirt for weeks on end, wanting to eat at the same restaurant every time I go out, etc. etc. The inevitable result of such overload is almost criminally tragic: after such sensory gluttony, said objects/activities become warped, twisted. I can never view them the same way again.
That early magic is so transcendent, yet transient. Like the first time I heard the song “Weird Fishes by Radiohead.” God, I was moved. It haunted me. I still love it—and the entire album for that matter—but how I wish I could hear it again for the first time. (You can.)
So seasonality may not be such a bad thing after all. I mean, I wouldn’t mind having access to perfectly ripe peaches the entire year round. But I’d be losing the experience of the anticipation, and the unadulterated captivation of the first bite. Which means more to me than you can know.
With all that being said, it’s almost time to retire pumpkin. Almost. After all, there’s still pumpkin pie to be had.

Traditional Italian biscotti is not the buttery, cake-y creations we have today. They’re supposed to be biscuits after all, and biscuits do not connote dessert. It was made exclusively with flour, sugar, eggs, almonds (not roasted or skinned), and pine nuts. And meant to last a long time. Centuries, if stored carefully, according to Pliny the Elder.
Purists would call the recipe below a bastardization then. At the same time, I didn’t want to make anything too extravagant, too rich, too filling. I didn’t want to dip my biscuits in chocolate, or adorn them knee-deep with toppings, or have them leave behind butter stains on my finger. Rather, I was craving a sensible, no-nonsense, pumpkin-flavored treat to eat alongside my mid-morning coffee.
And that’s how these biscotti came out.

Of course, my few modest additions helped ever so much with the flavor, if I do say so myself. Dried cranberries to make it feel more festive, slivered almonds because they were one of the original ingredients, cinnamon, ground ginger, and cardamom because why the hell not. I dusted the top with black sesame seeds, bird food really, and into the oven my fat little loaf went.
Twice.
Because that’s how you make biscotti. You bake it twice.

PUMPKIN BISCOTTI WITH CRANBERRIES AND ALMONDS
Adapted from The New Best Recipe
Makes about 50
Ingredients:
- 1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 cup whole wheat flour
- 1 tsp baking powder
- 1/2 tsp baking soda
- 1/4 tsp salt
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp ground ginger
- 1/4 tsp cardamom
- 3/4 cup pumpkin puree
- 1 cup brown sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1/2 cup slivered almonds
- 1/2 cup dried cranberries
- black sesame seeds for topping
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
Whisk the flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and spices together in a medium bowl. Set aside. In a larger bowl, whisk the pumpkin puree, sugar, and eggs together until smooth. Stir in the vanilla extract, almonds, and cranberries. Pour the dry ingredients over the egg mixture and fold until just combined.
Halve the dough and turn each half onto the prepared baking sheet. Using floured hands, stretch each half into a long loaf about 12 inches. Shape and pat each one smooth. Sprinkle liberally with black sesame seeds.
Bake until the loaves begin to crackle on top, about 25 minutes. Rotate the pan halfway through baking. Remove from the oven and let the pan cool for about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, reduce the oven temperature to 325 degrees F.
Transfer the loaves onto a cutting board. Using a serrated knife, cut each loaf diagonally into thin slices, about 1/2-inch. Lay the slices back on the baking sheet and return them to oven. Bake until crisp and golden-brown on both sides, about 15 minutes. Halfway through baking, turn the cookies over and rotate the baking sheet.
Remove from oven, and let cool. Store in an airtight container.
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Tartine Croissant Recipe

Every now and again, I like to tackle big projects. I’m good at big projects. There’s something so reassuring about them, like you know there’s an end in sight, eventually, but it’s so far away that you’re not focused on it. Instead, you get to hunker down, keep your head low, and really sink yourself into the process. Drink some coffee while you’re at it, noodle around with other things while waiting (there’s always a lot of waiting).
BUT. Everything will be going swimmingly, until everything goes awry. That’s when, say, you open the oven to discover a hot tub’s worth of butter oozing around on the floor of your baking pan. It might be kind of like how Alexander Fleming felt when he realized he’d left a Petri dish uncovered in the lab—the horror!, the shame!, the contamination (him)!, the smell of frying croissants (me)!—except he discovered penicillin, and I ended up with rubbery croissants.
It’s in moments like these that your character will come through. You could give up, throw in the towel, decide to start down another path altogether. Knife-sharpening comes to mind, although that’s another one of those projects you could (and will be told to) spend a lifetime mastering. Or attempting the elusive scorpion pose. (I know, scary.) Alternatively, you could also decide to try again. According to my assessment, the latter demonstrates true grit. Or so I have to believe. Fine, mostly, I didn’t want to feel like I’d been defeated by a baked good.

So I took a step back and really tried to figure out where I’d gone wrong. I think it came down to one main reason: the butter hadn’t been soft enough when I’d started the lamination process. It seems that butter that isn’t sufficiently malleable will clump up and tear through the layers, resulting in lots of leakage points. Does that sound about right, seasoned croissant makers? But, a little leaking is normal too, and should not be a cause for concern. Along with a few other small tweaks, I felt ready to give croissants another go.
I’d initially made half a batch of plain croissants and half a batch of ham and cheese, but for my second attempt, I decided to pare down my expectations. If I could successfully make a batch of plain croissants, I could begin thinking about incorporating other ingredients. It’s kind of like how in Japan, sushi apprentices spend years mastering the art of making rice before they’re allowed to move on to even touching the other stuff. (Talk about integrity!)

Of course you’re wondering how my second attempt went? Pretty well, I think. The insides were a bit doughier than I would’ve liked, but they actually tasted like croissants. Buttery, flaky, layers shattering upon contact. I love that initial tenderness of the innards when the croissants are pulled apart. They’re still steaming from their bake and taste incredibly luscious and fresh. I also love the way the tips burn slightly. They’re the crispest parts, all puff pastry-like and caramelized. And the shape, the shape! While svelte and long are generally qualities esteemed by women the world over, I love how cute and round mine came out. They’re like the Volkswagon Beetles of the croissant world.
I don’t know, I think Tartine just might approve.


TARTINE CROISSANTS Recipe
Adapted from Tartine
Makes 10
Ingredients:
- For the preferment:
- 6 Tbsp nonfat milk
- 1/2 T (or 1.5 t) active dry yeast
- 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
And everything else:
- 2 t active dry yeast
- 1 cup minus 2 T (or 14 T) whole milk
- 3 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/6 cup sugar
- 2 t salt
- 1/2 T unsalted butter, melted
- 2-3/4 sticks (or 22 Tbsp) unsalted butter, cool but malleable
- 1 egg & a pinch of salt for the egg wash
Tartine Croissant Recipe Directions:
For the preferment: Heat up the milk so it’s warm but not hot (I mixed whole milk with hot water that had been heated in the kettle earlier in the day to make warm-ish “nonfat” milk.) and pour it in a mixing bowl. Sprinkle the yeast on top, stir to dissolve, and mix in the flour until a smooth batter forms. Cover and let rise until almost doubled in volume, 2 to 3 hours (or overnight if stored in the fridge).
For the rest of the recipe: Make the dough. Transfer the preferment to the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook. Sprinkle in the yeast and mix on low speed until incorporated, a minute or two. You can stop the mixer to scrape down the sides if needed. When the mixture is well-mixed, increase the speed to medium and mix for a few minutes. Slowly add in half the milk and continue to mix until the milk is fully incorporated. (This will take awhile. I helped the process along by stopping the mixer and scraping down the sides.) Reduce the speed to low, add the flour, sugar, salt, melted butter, and the rest of the milk, and mix until everything comes together in a loose, shaggy-looking dough, about 3 minutes. Stop the mixer and let the dough rest for about 15 minutes. Once again, turn on the mixer and mix until the dough is smooth and elastic, no more than 4 minutes. (Mixing encourages gluten growth, which is not what you want in this case, so try to keep the mixing time as short as possible.) Once you’ve achived a smooth dough, cover the bowl and let the contents rise in a cool place until the volume increases by about half, 1.5 hours.
Lightly flour a work surface and transfer the dough to the surface. Press it into a rectangle about 2 inches thick, wrap in plastic wrap, and place the dough in the fridge for about 4 to 6 hours.
About an hour before removing the dough, put the butter in the bowl of your stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, and mix it on medium-high speed for a few minutes. This part is important, as the consistency of the butter is really important for lamination. What you’re going for is butter that’s malleable, but not melting. It should still be cool but amorphous, not retaining its original shape. I found it helpful to stop and scrape the butter that had built up on the side of the bowl with a spatula and into a bowl. If you do this a few times, poking the butter out of the holes of the paddle, you’ll end up with soft but cool butter. Place the bowl in the fridge to firm up a bit.
Now the lamination begins: Lightly flour a work surface and take dough and butter out of the fridge. Unwrap the dough and set it on the surface. With a rolling pin, roll the dough into a pronounced rectangle 20 inches wide and 8 inches long. Make sure the long side is facing you. Starting from the left, spread the butter over 2/3 of the dough using a combination of your hands and a spatula to apply it evenly (leave a slight margin). Fold the uncovered third over the center third, then fold the left third over that. (It’s like folding a letter.) What you end up with is called a plaque. Seal the seams of the plaque so that the butter is sealed within the dough.
Now onto the second turn: Turn the plaque 90 degrees so that the long side is once again facing you. Again, roll the dough out to a pronounced 20′x8″ rectangle and fold it like you did earlier. All the while, feel free to scatter a little flour over and under the dough to keep it from sticking to the rolling pin/surface, but brush off excess flour as it will affect the final product. Wrap the plaque in plastic wrap and place it in the fridge for about 1.5 hours.
The third and final turn: Repeat rolling out the plaque and folding it. Re-wrap it in plastic wrap and place it back in the fridge for about 1 hour. (At this point, the dough can be frozen, but let it warm up by spending a night in the fridge before rolling it out.)
Shaping: This time, roll the dough out to a pronounced rectangle at least 22.5″ wide and 9″ tall. Using a sharp knife or pizza wheel, cut off the excess margins. You basically want a 22.5″x9″ rectangle with the sides all trimmed off. Using a ruler, slice the dough into five equal rectangles that are 4.5″ wide and 9″ tall. Slice each of these in half so that you have 2 right-angled triangles (with a long side about 10″).
Have a large baking sheet covered with parchment paper ready. To shape, position each triangle so that the base faces you. Take the two points of the base in your fingers and stretch them a bit. Then furl the base upwards into a roll. Continue rolling with your palms, and at the end, grab the last tip, give it a slight stretch, and tuck the point underneath the rolled dough.
Place the croissant on the baking sheet, giving it plenty of space (Please note: in the picture above of the raw croissants, they are way too closely-spaced!). After all the croissants have been placed on the pan, set the croissants in a draft-free, cool place for a final rise, 2 to 3 hours. I placed the baking sheet in a large empty plastic bag. (It keeps a skin from forming, inhibiting the rise.)
Preheat your oven at 400 degrees F. When the croissants are just about ready (they’ll be puffy, and when you push one with your fingertips, the indent will stay), prepare the egg wash by whisking together the egg, a pinach of salt, and a splash of water. Apply the wash with a pastry brush over all the surfaces and edges. Slide the croissants into the oven. After 5 minutes, reduce the temperature to 350 degrees F and bake another 20 minutes until the croissants are golden-brown. And if some butter seeps out, that’s totally okay.

Check More Recipes:
Apricot Raspberry Galette, Or Look What I Made!
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