Refreshing celery-lime sorbet

A few months ago, I attended a dinner at Montreal's DNA restaurant, where Elizabeth Falkner was the guest chef (she is the chef at Orson and Citizen Cake). Because we had made the reservations so "late" (and by late, I mean a few months ahead of the date), we could only get a table at 8:30PM. I was worried. I don't do well with late dinners because I end up snacking incessantly beforehand as my dinner-time comes and goes. It's not that I am set on eating dinner at a certain hour, but past 8 o'clock. I'm usually famished. The meal was worth the wait. I feel very lucky to have had the opportunity to try Elizabeth Falkner's creations.

Elizabeth Falkner's menu that night was light and refreshing, which was a good thing, considering the hour we were eating at. Each dish featured a wonderful balance of flavors that I will never forget. We were wowed as of the first course, which featured a memorable sprinkling of this wasabi powder that fizzed on your tongue like pop rocks candy. Fabulous. She used a few "molecular gastronomy" techniques that were really impressive, but that also demonstrated how thoughtful a chef she is. I actually had the pleasure of meeting her and discussing a few of the courses she had put together on her tasting menu. I quizzed her on the "pop-rocks" effect of the wasabi powder. She truly is a fountain of culinary knowledge, and happy to share a few of her secrets.

One of the dessert courses included a vibrant green, refreshing celery sorbet. It was fantastic, served with some caramelized apple and blue cheese. That sorbet was my inspiration for this month's baketogether, hosted by Abby Dodge. The recipe is simple, but you need to use an ice cream maker to freeze the sorbet. If not, you can freeze it in a pan and scrape it into granita with a fork. This recipe would also make great popsicles. This sweet celery sorbet has a hint of lime that is just right. I reduced the sugar in the recipe for fear of overpowering the delicate celery flavor. This sorbet is still sweet though, so don't worry. I think it might be one of my favorite flavors!

Celery-lime sorbet

   Makes 2–4 servings (depending on the size of your scoops)

• 3/4 cup water
• 1/2 cups granulated sugar
• 1 quart (4 cups) celery, roughly chopped
• 1 tbsp lime juice, freshly squeezed
• 1 tsp lime zest, finely grated

1. Have ready an ice cream maker ( I use an electric Krups model, resembling this Cuisinart model with a 1 quart canister that requires pre-freezing for at least 24 hours). Arrange a 5 x 9 inch loaf dish (because it's easier to scoop out of the loaf pan than the Krups canister) in the freezer making sure it is level and secure.
2. Put the sugar and water into a small saucepan. Cook, stirring, over medium heat until sugar is dissolved. Set aside to cool completely (you can refrigerate this syrup up to 4 days before continuing).
3. Combine the syrup, celery, lime juice, and lime zest in the blender. Purée the mixture (you may need to pulse to get it going at first) until the celery is finely ground. Transfer the mixture to a container, cover, and refrigerate overnight.
4. The next morning, strain the mixture through a fine sieve into another bowl. Leave it in the fridge for several hours to extract all the juice. Make sure the juice is well chilled before proceeding.
5. Pour the chilled mixture into the ice cream maker and process according to manufacturer’s instructions. Serve immediately (it will be soft) or scrape into the chilled dish, cover and freeze until firm or up to 2 days.

Being green and eating local

Arugula pesto

I try to act and be as environmentally-friendly as I can. I take the bus and metro 99% of the time, even though I could drive places. I walk the 4 kilometers home from the gym instead of using public transportation. I carry a refillable water bottle on me almost all the time, and I bring a travel coffee mug with me when I know I'm going out for coffee. Trouble is, on days when I am faced with an unexpected coffee break at a coffee shop, I am torn: I don't have my travel mug on me, but don't have the time to sit and drink the coffee in the shop. Sometimes, I get so flustered, I walk away. Other times, I buy the coffee, but end up so full of guilt that I can't even finish it. I wish I were exaggerating, but I'm not. Not to be cliché, but it's not easy being green.

White pizza with arugula pesto

My latest efforts have been to support a Montreal company (Lufa Farms) that has built a pesticide-free rooftop garden that produces enough vegetables to fill one thousand baskets every week. I strongly believe in this company, and I really want them to grow and to do well. Their motto is that fresh food should not mean fresh from a truck that has travelled across countries to get to your table. They are striving to have rooftop greenhouses all over the city, each one feeding a 5 kilometer radius. Can you imagine that? It also implies that Montrealers would have fresh, vine-ripened tomatoes in the dead of winter. I receive weekly baskets of vegetables from them, and I am always excited to crack open the box every week (bonus, the baskets are actually boxes that are re-used, so every week, I bring in last week's empty box to be exchanged for this week's filled box). It's really a wonderful feeling to crack open the box and discover all the fresh ingredients. It's like a weekly gift!

Tofu and fiddlehead rice bowl

Since receiving my first basket in early May, every single meal I have prepared has contained something from my weekly basket. It's not always easy, but luckily, the baskets have been pretty varied so that I don't get too bored. I've been pretty inspired by them actually. Each week, a few Quebec-grown products (from other local growers) are thrown in, like fiddleheads and asparagus, as well as some root veggies, like jerusalem artichokes, potatoes, and onions.

Atlantic lobster salad with spicy Japanese dressing

Here's a list of the recipes I've come up with so far, using my Lufa Farms produce. I published these recipes on my column. There are many more that I am really excited about and will be publishing in the coming weeks. I hope you will enjoy reading them as much as I have enjoyed making them.

• Lettuce shrimp wraps
• Jerusalem artichoke hash topped with fried eggs
• Oven-roasted tomato and eggplant pasta dish
• Arugula pesto
• White pizza with arugula pesto
• Tofu and fiddlehead rice bowl
• Atlantic lobster salad with spicy Japanese dressing

Jerusalem artichoke hash topped with a fried egg

I don't own a cherry pitter. My kitchen drawers are bursting with stuff, but I don't own a cherry pitter. The drawers, though organized pretty well, are so full that, randomly, one of the drawers will no longer open because a tool got propped upright in the drawer. I end up frustrated for 10 or so minutes trying desperately to dislodge the tool  with spatulas, forks, tongs... It drives me insane, but I will not part with a single item from those drawers.

I do have 3 microplane graters of various sizes, but I don't own a cherry pitter. Is it because I love cheese more than I love cherries? Not likely, but I guess in my kitchen, cheese is a constant, while cherries only come through here a handful of times a year.

I usually don't bake with cherries, so, most of the time, I just don't need a cherry pitter, but then when I do, I can see how handy it would be to have that tool. I'd love this cherry pitter, but for now, I do the pitting by hand, with a serrated knife (to slice each cherry in half), and my fingers (to pry out the pit). It takes longer, my fingers turn purply-pink in the process, but that's okay. If I were to make cherry preserves, or a cherry pie, I might think otherwise, but for a handful or two of cherries, I stick to my trusty knife.

I came across this cherry focaccia recipe in the July issue of Martha Stewart Living magazine. I was pretty stoked because I had been thinking about making a sweet focaccia since the fall season, but never got around to baking one.

Within days of seeing the recipe in the magazine, I tried it out. I had never made a focaccia, and I hardly ever have the opportunity to eat them, really. The focaccia dough is sticky. Martha makes sure to point this out. When I plopped the dough onto my floured counter to give it a couple folds (as instructed), it was a sticky puddle more than a bread dough. I was concerned.

After baking, I ended up with a light and airy focaccia, with just a slight chew to it. I loved the texture of it, and couldn't get enough of the crispy crust (I baked the focaccia on a preheated baking sheet to crisp up the bottom. I think this is key to the crispy bottom of this bread). The combination of the sweet cherries and apricot slices with the woodsy, herbal flavor of the rosemary, and the aromatic olive oil is out of this world. Truly a great combination. I would definitely make this again. My only issue was that it stuck to the pan a little more than I would have liked. Next time, I'd grease the pan first, then line it with parchment before adding the oil called for in the recipe, to get rid of some of the panic of frantically trying to unstick it from the pan.

Here's my recipe, adapted from page 149 of the July 2011 issue of Martha Stewart Living magazine. I'll be submitting this to Ivonne of Cream Puffs in Venice for her weekly Magazine Monday round-up, along with my strawberry rhubarb crumble muffins from earlier this week.

Cherry and apricot focaccia with rosemary

  Makes one 8x8-inch bread

• 340 grams bread flour
• 350 mL warm water (~105–110°F)
• 1/3 tsp instant yeast
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 40 mL plus 1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 handfuls sweet cherries, sliced in half and pitted
• 1–2 apricots apricots, pitted and sliced
• 1 tbsp plus more coarse sugar (I used a demerera sugar like this
• 1 tbsp rosemary

1. In the bowl of an electric mixer, fitted with the whisk attachment, whisk the flour, water, and yeast until combined. Remove the whisk attachment, cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and place it in a warm place until tripled in volume and bubbly (~ 2 hours). I do this in my oven, with just the oven light on.
2. Add the salt to the bowl. With the dough-hook attachment, mix the dough on low speed for 5 minutes. Raise the speed to medium, then mix for another 30 seconds. The dough will be loose and sticky. Just go with it.
3. Generously flour your work surface, and scrape out the dough onto the surface with a dough scraper. With the dough scraper, fold the bottom edge of the dough up toward the center, brushing off excess flour from the surface. In the same way, fold the top edge toward the center. Fold the right, and then the left edge toward the center. Pat down gently. Flour a medium bowl, then swiftly scrape the dough into the bowl. Do this boldly, or you will end up with a mess of dough half in the bowl, half on the counter. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and leave it to double in a warm place (~1 hour).
4. Turn out the dough on a floured surface, and repeat the folding process. Again, swiftly scrape the dough into a floured bowl. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and leave it to double in a warm place (~1 hour).
5. Preheat the oven to 450°F with a large baking sheet on the middle rack. Grease and line an 8x8-inch glass baking dish. Pour the 40 mL olive oil into the dish and spread it around so that it is fairly even.
6. Scrape the dough into the prepared dish. with greased fingers, spread it out so that it fits into all the corners and is evenly spread. Cover with plastic wrap and let stand 15 minutes to rest (if the corners recede, push them back with greased fingers).
7. Drizzle dough with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil, sprinkle the cherries over top, and scatter the apricots slices. Top with a generous sprinkling of coarse sugar (you can use more than 1 tspb, as you wish) and the rosemary.
8. Place the baking dish on the preheated baking sheet in the oven, baking for 30 minutes, rotating at about 20 minutes if necessary. Immediately run a knife around the edges to unstick them if they are stuck, as soon as you remove the dish from the oven. Let cool and serve warm or at room temperature, with an extra sprinkling of course sugar. It is best eaten the day it is made.

 
Yummy muffins are great to have on hand to snack on while fixing a shower stall (changing the caulking and re-grouting). They are a pretty good form of self-bribery. Grout, and then you get a muffin! The other day I wondered, if I had more money, would I still be the one doing the dirty work? I think the answer is yes because I really love the satisfaction of knowing that I challenged myself to do something, and then I actually followed through, all by myself. It's such a great feeling. I love that sense of accomplishment.

When I was in the second grade, my teacher would give us "bon points" (I guess the translation from French would be "good points"). They were essentially simple little squares of yellow cardboard with a smiley face stamped on each with red ink. We'd also get gold stars when we did well. We collected the bon points in our desks, and when we got ten of them, I think we traded them in for gold stars, and possibly even a shiny rock, or some candy from the teacher, like mint liquorice. Mint liquorice is disgusting, but when I was awarded a piece in class from my teacher, it was the best thing in the world. We also earned gold stars if we achieved something really impressive in class. The gold stars were actually stickers. My teacher made up this huge board with the names of all of us, me and my classmates, and she would stick the gold stars next to our names, every time we earned one.

The bon points and gold stars were a way of motivating us, and it worked very well on me. Apparently, I came home one day and declared to my mom that I wanted to be the one with the most gold stars next to my name. That was my goal. So, I set out to be the one with the most gold stars all on my own. I have no idea why this was so important to me. I guess I'm just a keener, or maybe I just love stars (and green liquorice?). I don't know if I was the top of my class that year. Ever since then, I have always had the attitude that I can do anything, if I try hard enough. It may not be perfect, but I can try really, really hard.

As an adult, I no longer recite the alphabet backwards, from Z to A, for a gold star. At this point in life, my challenges involve things like home renovation projects. I'm still the kind of girl with that "can-do" attitude, after all these years, but the reward is the feeling I hold in my heart when I've accomplished something by myself. And, maybe I give myself a muffin too... I google how a project should be done, go to Home Depot to buy the supplies, and then return home to do it. If the wire on a lamp of mine is old, frayed, and disintegrating, I will take it apart and rewire the lamp. If the light in my stove hood doesn't turn on anymore, I open up the hood to figure out why. Remember, when I had trouble changing the lightbulbs in my tracklight? Well, after months of sporadic and angered trial and error, now I know how (I seem to have a lot of issues with lights, but anyways....). This week, I am regrouting and changing the caulking of my shower stall. As usual, I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing, but I'm following this and that, and so far, so good. I know that I can get the job done by myself, if I set my mind to it.

This muffin recipe was inspired by a cake recipe Delicious (UK) magazine. I truly love this magazine. I continue to buy it monthly, even though the price is crazy high because it's an import magazine. I usually make several recipes from every issue, so I know it's a good buy, and, really, it just makes me happy! Some girls buy pretty shoes, I buy Old Navy $1 flip-flops and Delicious magazine. That's just the way I roll.

Sometimes, while browsing through a magazine, I see a recipe that I want to make, but I`m not happy with the ingredients listed or the method of preparation, so I try to improve upon it. It`s not that the original recipe is bad (far from it), but rather that it`s just not how I`d do it. So, I make it my own, with a few tweaks and adjustments here and there.

I took the cake recipe (page 78 of the March 2011 issue) and turned it into muffins. I sprinkled in some cinnamon. I also added Quebec strawberries to go with the rhubarb because both are in season right now, and I think they should be celebrated because they are a great match, just like they are wonderful on their own. I especially loved the suggested method for making the crumble topping (melt the butter, with the sugars, then stir in the flour, transfer to a bowl, and let cool, then crumble it over your cake). I think I'll make all my crumble toppings this way from now on.

My cake-turned-muffins experiment worked out perfectly, yielding incredibly light and flavorful muffins. The ground almonds (with their skins) bring a lovely nuttiness and caramel color to them. I love the hint of cinnamon in the crumble topping, and I adore the combination of rhubarb and strawberries. These muffins are a lovely ode to the spring fruits that are in season in Quebec, and a great reward for every little achievement in my little shower-reno project. They're not exactly gold stars or mint liquorice, but I'll work hard for them just the same.

Strawberry rhubarb crumble muffins

Makes 12 muffins






For the crumble topping

• 25 grams unsalted butter 
• 13 grams light brown sugar
• 20 grams granulated sugar
• 50 grams all-purpose flour
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• pinch of salt
• 1/4 tsp vanilla extract 

For the fruits

• 150 grams washed and trimmed rhubarb, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
• 125 grams strawberries, hulled and chopped in half or quarters (depending on how big they are)
• 50 grams granulated sugar
• 2 tsp all-purpose flour

For the muffin batter

• 6 tsp sour cream
• 1 large egg
• 1 large egg yolk
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 100 grams all-purpose flour
• 50 grams ground almonds(I ground raw almonds with the skin on)
• 100 grams granulated sugar
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 75 grams unsalted butter, melted

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a a 12-muffin pan (or two 6-muffin pans) with muffin cups. Set aside.
2. For the crumble topping, in a small saucepan, melt the butter and the sugar. Add the flour, salt, cinnamon, and vanilla, and stir until the mixture is combined to make a paste. Transfer the paste to a bowl to cool completely. Set aside for later.
3. For the fruits, in a medium bowl, combine the rhubarb, strawberries, sugar, and flour. Stir so that the the fruits are evenly coated with flour and sugar. Set aside, stirring every so often to redistribute the ingredients.
4. For the muffin batter, in a medium bowl, whisk together the sour cream, eggs, and vanilla. Set these wet ingredients aside while you prepare the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together all the dry ingredients. Then, add the melted butter to the dry ingredients, and mix it in to combine. Then, add the wet ingredients. Stir the mixture. If you can't get the lumps out, give it a good mix with a hand-held mixer. Add the macerated fruit, and stir them in so that your batter is nice and even.
5. Assemble the muffins by filling the muffin cups until the batter reaches a half-centimeter from the top of the cup (you should have exactly enough for 12). Crumble the crumble topping with your fingers over each muffin.
6. Bake the muffins for about 18 minutes (check with a cake tester to be sure they're done).

A taste of spring: Strawberry and apricot trifle

Once again, I find myself at a loss when I think about where spring went. With all the rain, I feel like I missed out. Spring is one of the few times in Montreal when the sun is warm, the wind is cool, and the humidity is low. Today is a perfect example of that, though we just went through a bout of rain, and hot, humid weather to get here. I guess spring can be pretty unpredictable.

In the kitchen, I took full advantage of spring, cooking and baking with spring ingredients (like fiddleheads and rhubarb) whenever possible. There are still loads of spring recipes that I'd like to play with. Thankfully, I still have a few more weeks. And now, a few early Quebec strawberries are trickling into the market stalls, which means we can officially make strawberry rhubarb pies with local fruits. Quebec strawberries are quite different from the jumbo-sized California strawberries (no offense to them, we do appreciate their year-round presence in grocery stores). Unlike those, the strawberries from Quebec are petite, bursting with flavor, and look just like a strawberry should like like

What I love about trifle is that every trifle is different because depending on the time of year, the fruits, and the flavors of the fruits used, can vary tremendously. This trifle tastes just like end of spring to me because I used the first berries of the Quebec strawberry crop. This early in the season, they are gorgeously red, firm, and delightfully tangy. The apricots (though imported from Frog Hollow Farm in California) are also best this time of year.

The perfect bite of trifle features all its components: boozy cake, fruit, and whipped cream. You need to literally dig deep to get it all in every bite. It's one of the best desserts for the spring-summer season because trifle is a great way of fancying up the fresh fruits of the season, without cooking them down or overpowering them with sugar. After eating a helping of trifle, I think it might actually be my favorite spring-summer dessert. Seriously! In my family, every trifle starts with a spongy Zilla's cake. I've republished the recipe here to record the measurements in grams and in cups.

Zilla's cake

Makes one loaf

• 1 cup (130 grams) all-purpose flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup (190 grams) granulated sugar, plus more for the pan
• 1/2 cup (125 mL) skim milk
• 1 tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 tsp vanilla

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Prepare a 9x5-inch loaf pan by generously greasing and coating it with granulated sugar (just as you would with flour). Set aside for later.
2. In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and the salt. Set aside.
3. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment,  beat the eggs and the granulated sugar until the mixture is airy and lightened in color (this takes a few minutes).
4. Meanwhile, microwave the milk with the butter so that the butter melts and the mixture is warm (I do this for 30 seconds at a time, stirring in between).
5. To the egg mixture, alternate adding the dry ingredients (one third at a time) with the warm milk mixture (half at a time), beginning and ending with dry ingredients.
6. Pour the batter into the prepared pan, and bake for 40–45 minutes, until the cake pulls away from the sides, and a cake tester comes out clean.
7. Set the pan to cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes, then unmold it right away (or it will stick!) and let cool completely before serving.

Spiked mascarpone cream

Adapted from here (originally), and then here

• 1 package (250 grams) mascarpone
• 3/4 cup (188 mL) 35% whipping cream
• 1/4 cup (50 grams) granulated sugar
• 1–2 tbsp sweet liqueur (I used Gélinotte, but sherry or amaretto would also be perfect, or even just a teaspoon of vanilla extract)

1. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, whisk the mascarpone, cream, and sugar on low to combine, then increase the speed to whip it into soft or semi-stiff peaks (as you like, basically, just don't overwhip it).

Strawberry and apricot trifle

  



Makes about 4–6 individual trifles, but there will be leftover cake for snacks and breakfast late

• 1 Zilla's cake, sliced
• More booze (I used Gélinotte again, but sherry is great!)
• ~ 6 apricots, diced
• ~ 400 grams strawberries, hulled and diced
• 1 batch of spiked mascarpone cream
• 4–6 glasses or small jam jars

1. Fit a layer of cake in each glass. 
2. Sprinkle the cake with a teaspoon or so of booze.
3. Top with a spoonful or two of fruits
4. Add a scoop of mascarpone cream.
5. Repeat steps 1 to 4 so that you have two layers of everything. Don't be shy to press down a little.
6. Top  the final cream layer with a pretty berry.

Rhubarb and raspberry upside-down cake

At the beginning of rhubarb season this year, I had this most brilliant thought to make a rhubarb upside-down cake. I discussed the idea with my mom, but I didn't really look into it much. We decided that rhubarb is too watery when it cooks, and that it wouldn't work well, unless maybe we precooked it... We figured it probably wasn't a good idea. I'm more of a tarte tatin kind of girl anyways, and I had honestly never eaten an upside-down cake of any kind before. So, I just pushed the idea aside.

Then, an article on rhubarb upside-down cake, followed by a recipe, appeared in the New York Times.

Well then.

Maybe my idea wasn't so stupid after all. If it's New York Times worthy, it's got to be good!

So, I tried out the recipe.

The thing that bothered me the most about the article in the New York Times was the photo of the rhubarb upside-down cake with the pinkish-purple streaks of syrup. Apparently the color came about because the rhubarb wasn't peeled. But, I've never peeled my rhubarb before, and never do any of my rhubarb desserts end up that color. The rhubarb in my parents garden, and the rhubarb that is sold in the Montreal markets is not that pink. Our variety is more green then pink, and once cooked, it's really kind of a yellow-ish green, certainly not the vibrant pink pictured in the New York Times. I wonder where they get their rhubarb from because I'd love to get my hands on some and bake with it to see the difference. My usual solution to the rhubarb color issue is to pop in a few raspberries to brighten up the color, so that's what I did here. Plus, I love both raspberry and rhubarb desserts, so I was happy to combine them into one. Of course, if you are a flavor-purist (no judgement here, I really do understand if you are), just go with rhubarb only for this recipe. Just don't expect a fantastic pink dessert if your rhubarb is anything like ours.

I tweaked the original recipe a fair amount. I used yoghurt (2.5% fat) instead of sour cream. I omitted the lemon zest and lemon juice and I upped the amount of yoghurt instead (people are so obsessed with adding citrus to their baking, and sometimes, I really don't understand why!). I added some ground ginger to the dry ingredients, though I have to say, the ginger flavor seemed completely absent in the final cake. The flavor of the cake was so great as is that I really didn't miss that ginger flavor that I had been aiming for with my tweaks. The tang of the yoghurt really came through in the batter and the cake, and that tang coupled to the sweet vanilla was just incredible. I'm glad I didn't add the lemon because the tangy vanilla was just perfect with the rhubarb and raspberries. The density of the cake was really nice, and serving it was a dream, even with all that fruit on top. My only complaint is that the cake was a tad dry. Just a tad. I may have been a little heavy-handed with the cake flour (since my 2 cups weighed a bit more than it should have; next time I'd aim for 200 grams instead of the 260 that I measured). Or, perhaps a few minutes less in the oven is all that's needed.

Rhubarb and raspberry upside-down cake
Yields one 9-inch cake


For the fruit layer

• 1/2 stick (57 grams) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 115 grams light brown sugar
• 500 grams washed and trimmed rhubarb, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
• 160 grams frozen raspberries
• 110 grams granulated sugar
• 2 tsp cornstarch

For the cake layer

• 260 grams cake flour
• 1 1/4 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 tsp ground ginger
• 2 sticks (114 grams) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 220 grams granulated sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 4 eggs, room temperature
• 100 mL yoghurt (2.5% fat content)

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 325°F.
2. Prepare a 9-inch springform pan by lining the bottom with parchment (I basically cut a large square of paper, place it on the base, then clip the sides over so that the paper runs right through the springform). Grease the paper and the sides of the springform pan. Wrap the outside of the pan with 2 large sheets of aluminum foil (in case your springform is as leaky as mine is). Place the wrapped springform pan on a greased rimmed baking sheet, and set it aside for later.

For the fruit layer:

1. In a small saucepan, melt the butter and brown sugar until it gets bubbly. Pull the pan off the heat and allow it to cool.
2. In a medium bowl, combine the fruits with the granulated sugar and cornstarch. Mix it carefully to not damage the raspberries too much, and let it sit.

For the cake layer:

1. Sift together the dry ingredients into a medium bowl and set them aside.
2. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and the granulated sugar.
3. Add the vanilla, and then the eggs, one at a time, beating well, and scraping down the sides of the bowl after each addition. Don't worry if the batter looks curdled at this point.
4. Alternately, add the dry ingredients (one-third at a time) and the yoghurt (half at a time), beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. Be sure to scrape down the sides and the bottom of the bowl occasionally.

Assembly and baking:

1. Spoon the melted butter and brown sugar mixture at the bottom of the prepared pan. Smooth it out so that it forms an even layer.
2. Disperse the fruits evenly on top of the sugar layer.
3. Pour the cake batter over the fruits being sure to smooth the top. Bang the pan on the counter so as to remove any air pockets (you could also swirl a knife through carefully to remove any air pockets, just be sure to avoid the fruits at the bottom).
4. Bake for 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes, until a cake tester comes out clean.
5. Let the cake cool for 15 minutes in the pan, then place your serving plate over top, and flip it very carefully because the fruit juices are boiling hot! Set the plate on a wire rack to cool completely. Do not let the cake cool in the pan because the fruits and juices will stick to the bottom, and you'll have a hard time getting it out after.