I'm craving fall. I love its crisp, cool air, and I enjoy cooking and baking with its ingredients. Squash, pumpkins, apples, and warming, aromatic spices are a source of comfort and make the change in seasons a little easier. By the end of summer, I am eager for fall, my favorite season.

I adore fall, but I'm not a fan of winter. Dirty slush, frostbitten toes, dry cheeks, and cracking skin are just a few of the reasons I dislike winter. But since fall and winter come hand-in-hand, and you can't have one without the other, I guess I'll just have to accept winter as it comes.

The usual fall baking inevitably will contain apple or pumpkin, since that's what's growing, baked into spiced pies or cakes. And, though I love them all, I felt like making something a little different, so I made a pumpkin mousse with a splash of rum in it.

Mousses can be made from the simplest of ingredients: cream, sugar, gelatin, and, in this case, a purée of roasted pumpkin. Since I was pairing the pumpkin mousse with crumbled chocolate spice cookies, I decided to flavor the mousse with just some spiced rum and vanilla (as per this recipe). This mousse is light and cool. The spiced rum is a nice boozy complement to the pumpkin. And, even though the mousse base is strained through a fine sieve, the texture of the pumpkin is maintained.

This recipe comes directly from Laura Calder. I only slightly changed her method.

Pumpkin mousse with a splash of rum

    Serves 4

• 1 tbsp spiced rum
• 1 tsp powdered gelatin
• 1 1/4 cups heavy cream (35% fat), divided
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1 1/4 cups roasted pumpkin purée
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• Chocolate spice cookies or some sweetened and spiced whipped cream (optional)

1. Sprinkle the gelatin over the rum in a small teacup. Set aside for 5 minutes while you continue with the recipe.
2. In a small saucepan, combine one third of the heavy cream and the sugar. Stir on medium-low heat to gently warm the cream and dissolve the sugar. You can tell when the sugar is dissolved by the sound and the feel of the spoon while stirring the bottom of the saucepan. When the sugar is dissolved, add the rum and gelatin mixture, and stir until the gelatin dissolves and disappears. Remove the mixture from the heat, add the pumpkin purée and the vanilla. Stir (or whisk gently if necessary) to combine, and be sure to get rid of any lumps. Strain the mixture through a fine sieve into a medium bowl. Set aside to cool to room temperature.
3. When the pumpkin mixture is cool, whip the rest of the cream in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Fold the pumpkin mixture into the whipped cream, divide the mixture among 4 glasses or teacups. Refrigerate them to set, at least 3 or 4 hours before serving.
4. Serve the mousse with chocolate spice cookies, or crumble them over top before serving. You could also top each with a dollop of whipped cream.

When I did a little bit of traveling in South-East Asia at the beginning of the year, I sent home a big package of ingredients I found on the way: spices and rice from Bali, honey and coffee makers from Vietnam, and blackstrap molasses and black and white peppercorns from Malaysia... Of course, somewhere on its long trek home, the glass bottle of molasses was crushed to bits, leaking all over everything in my big 10-kilo box. By the time my goodie box made it to Montreal, it was in a giant plastic garbage bag, completely unrecognizable and saturated with gooey, sticky, pungent molasses. I was obviously very confused when I picked up my garbage bag at the post office since I had sent home a cardboard box, but then the molasses smell hit me. It took hours to clean up, and I thought I'd never touch molasses again.

Months later, I found this fancy can of black treacle when I was in Brampton, Ontario (not quite London, England, but hey, they have treacle!). Lyle's Golden Syrup and Lyle's Black Treacle are often listed in British recipes but I'd never come across the stuff, so I was pretty excited when I saw a stack of these cans. Some girls get excited over a new pair of shoes or a cashmere sweater, and I am over-the-moon when I find a fancy can of black treacle.

This pretty can of treacle helped me finally put my blackstrap molasses ordeal behind me. The syrup is dark and so molasses-y, but not as sweet as the fancy molasses that I am used to. My first recipe with the stuff is for these chocolate spice cookies. Their deep dark color comes from the black treacle and some Cocoa Barry extra dark cocoa.

Though the original recipe is for gingersnaps (from Alice Waters, via David Lebovitz), I don't think these are very snappy. They are more wafer-like to me (like the ones you'd grind up to make a chocolate cookie crust). Ginger and black pepper feature prominently in the flavor of these cookies. The peppery notes surprise you as you munch on them, right at the back of your throat, kind of like when you indulge in a chilli chocolate bar. Of course, you can tweak the spice combination and use whatever spice you fancy. I think these are perfect for a cup of coffee or black tea, and the flavors are absolutely right for the crisp fall and winter months.

Chocolate spice cookies

    Makes 4 1/2 dozen cookies

• 210 grams (1 1/2 cups) all-purpose flour
• 70 grams (a little over 1/2 cup) cocoa powder
• 1 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 1/2 tsp ground ginger
• 1/2 tsp ground black pepper
• pinch cloves
• 150 grams (11 tbsp) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 130 grams (2/3 cup) granulated sugar, plus more for coating cookies
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• 80 grams (1/4 cup) black treacle (or molasses)
• 1 egg, room temperature

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Prepare a couple baking sheets by lining them with Silpats or parchment. Set aside for later.
2. In a medium bowl, mix together the flour, cocoa, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, black pepper, and cloves. Set the whisked dry ingredients aside for later.
3. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and the granulated sugar for a couple minutes. Scrape down the bowl as needed.
4. Add the vanilla and the molasses and beat the mixture until it is smooth.
5. Add the egg, and beat to incorporate it, scraping down the bowl as needed.
6. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture slowly. Continue mixing until the cookie dough has come together and you can no longer see any flour. Be sure to scrape up the bottom of the bowl because some flour could be hiding, unmixed, down there.
7. Scoop 1/2 tbsp amounts of dough, rolling them into a ball in your palms, and then gently tossing them in a small bowl of granulated sugar to completely coat them. Place them a couple inches apart on the prepared baking sheet.
8. When your baking sheet is filled, take a flat-bottomed glass, dip it in sugar, and press down each ball of dough to get a flat disk, about 1/4-inch thin.
9. Bake the cookies for 10–12 minutes.
10. Let cool completely before serving.

Apple crisp, or maybe it's a crumble

You know when you go apple picking, and the orchards are filled with four or five varieties of apples, and you carefully pick a few from each tree, telling yourself you will remember which is which, only to return home with a giant bag of apples that look identical, even though they apparently aren't?

I do this every year. It will probably happen again next week when I go apple picking. I already bought a few apples from the market, which got mixed up in my fridge. I think I used Sunrise apples for this recipe, but maybe they were Cortlands.

That's okay.

Apple crisps are very forgiving. If you use apple varieties that break down when heated (like McIntosh apples), you end up with a saucier apple crisp. Delish! If you use a firmer apple that can take the heat and keep its shape (like a Granny Smith, or Delicious apples), you end up with a firmer crisp that is still delightful. If you use Cortlands, you'll end up with a dessert that's somewhere in between.

The Sunrise variety maintain their shape when baked, but the slices become oh-so-soft on the inside. So, this apple crisp is not a soupy, apple-saucy mess, but it's just as comforting.

For the crisp topping, I used a combination of all-purpose and buckwheat flours. The buckwheat flour gives it a stronger, earthier flavor that I happen to like. If you don't, stick with all-purpose. You could also replace some of the flour with oats. While I opted to use melted butter to make the crumble topping, cold, cubed butter also works. Just work it into the dry ingredients with your fingers. Apple crisps are forgiving, so whatever ingredients you use, it'll be yummy.

Apple crisp

 

    Serves 4

Crumble topping:

• 35 grams unsalted butter
• 1/4 tsp vanilla extract
• 15 grams light brown sugar
• 25 grams granulated sugar
• 50 grams flour (I used half buckwheat and half all-purpose flours)
• 3/4 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ginger
• pinch nutmeg
• pinch cloves
• pinch salt

Apple filling:

• 4 apples, peeled, cored, and sliced
• 1/2 tbsp granulated sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
2. Lightly grease a 6- or 7-inch cast-iron skillet (or a 6- or 7-inch cake pan). Set aside.
3. For the crumble topping, in a small saucepan, melt the butter. Stir in the vanilla, followed by the sugars, flour(s), salt, and spices, and stir until the mixture is combined to make a paste. Transfer the paste to a bowl to cool completely. Set aside for later.
4. For the filling, toss the apples with the sugar. Pour them evenly into the bottom of the skillet.
5. Scatter the crumble topping over the apples, and bake the apple crisp for about 1 hour until the apples are cooked through, and the edges are bubbling a little.
6. Let cool on a wire rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Plums were possibly my least favorite fruit growing up. I think it might have been the sometimes-mushy texture of the flesh and the tart, sour crisp skins that bothered me. Plums were just not my fruit. I think my brother loved them, but I could never understand why.

Now, I love plums. I love the crisp, tangy skin that is a welcome contrast to the soft, uber-sweet flesh of the fruit. Their flavor is perfectly balanced, slightly floral even, and I can't get enough of them.

I love to make these plum muffins, and one day I hope to make this plum almond cake. I thought about making a plum crumble since I've never had a plum crumble. In the end, I was craving a spice cake.

I started with Dorie Greenspan's recipe for a dimply plum cake from Baking: From My Home to Yours (page 41) because I love the way the cake features the plum halves, like they are on display. Dorie uses cardamom in her recipe, but I felt like more spice, but not just the usual cinnamon and nutmeg combination.  Instead, I opted for anise seed for its licorice flavor, and allspice because it reminds me of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves combined.

This is a fantastic cake for spotlighting perfectly ripe plums. The cake is light and full of flavor. The sweet caramel flavor from the brown sugar is the perfect complement to the tart plum skins. And, though the oil in the cake batter may seem a little unusual, I think it actually yields a moister crumb than an all-butter cake.

Plum spice cake

    Makes one 9-inch square cake

• 1 1/2 cups (230 grams) all-purpose flour
• 2 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 2/3 tsp ground allspice
• 1 tsp ground anise seed
• 1/8 tsp cardamom
• 1/2 tsp ginger
• 5 tbsp (71 grams) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 3/4 cup (150 grams) light brown sugar, packed
• 2 large eggs, room temperature
• 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/3 cup (80 mL) canola oil
• 3–5 plums, halved and pit removed

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly grease and line with parchment paper a 9-inch square baking pan. Set aside.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, and all the spices. Set aside.
3. In another medium bowl, cream together the butter and the brown sugar with a wooden spoon for 2 minutes.
4. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well between each addition. Add the vanilla and mix well.
5. Add the oil, and mix well. The batter will be glossy and silky at this point.
6. Add the flour, and stir slowly to combine, making sure that the flour is completely incorporated.
7. Spread the batter in the prepared pan and smooth the top. Place the plum halves, cut side up, and pressing them slightly into place in to batter.
8. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, until the edges are golden brown, and a cake tester comes out clean when inserted in the cake.
9. Remove the pan from the oven, and let cool on a wire rack, cut into squares (using the plums as a guide) and serve warm or at room temperature.

In Montreal, we have an abundance of fancy pastry shops, yet we lack shops with traditional, home-baked goods like bundts and cookies. I guess my kitchen endeavors make up for that in my life.

This summer, pastry chef Michelle Marek (of the restaurant Laloux and the blog An Endless Banquet) helped fill that void with monthly berry social events (proceeds going to the charity Santropol Roulant), where she'd bake and serve a traditional, home-y dessert featuring the local berry in season at the time. In June, she featured strawberries and served strawberry shortcakes. July was raspberry season and she ladled gorgeous mashed raspberries over a fluffy sponge cake and a dollop of whipped cream.

For August, we were privy to a wonderful and generous helping of blueberry cobbler overflowing with Quebec wild blueberries. It was buttery, sweet, and truly berrylicious. It reminded me that I had completely forgotten about blueberry season, and I hadn't made a cobbler in ages.

I started with this recipe from Virginia Willis, made in a seasoned cast iron skillet. Of course, I don't have one of those (one day, I hope...), so I baked the cobbler in two individual white oven-safe pots, and a 9-inch cake pan (not shown).

Personally, I like a cake-y cobbler, and that is exactly what this is: a sweet batter is poured over a layer of melted butter and fresh blueberries and baked until the cake is tender and golden and the berries are bubbly and hot.

I used a tablespoon of butter and half a cup of wild blueberries per individual pot, and the rest of the butter and the other 3 cups of berries went into the 9-inch pan. Our blueberries are sweet and flavorful enough that you don't have to sweeten them really, especially if you are baking them under a sweet cake layer.

Cobbler is best served warm, with a dollop of whipped cream or ice cream. The sweet cream mixed with the warm cake and buttery baked blueberries is incredibly comforting.

Quebec wild blueberry cobbler

    Makes one 9-inch cobbler (or one 9-inch cobbler plus a couple individual ramekins)

• 4 cups (~750 grams) fresh (Quebec) wild blueberries
• 1 cup (148 grams) all-purpose flour
• 1 cup (215 grams) granulated sugar
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• pinch (<1/8 tsp) nutmeg
• 1 cup (250 mL) whole milk
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup (113 grams) butter, cubed

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.
2. Carefully wash and pick through the blueberries (checking for twigs or rocks). Drain and pat them dry (I do this by pouring them over a towel lined baking sheet). Set aside.
3. Whisk together all the dry ingredients in a medium bowl. Set aside
4. Stir together the milk and vanilla in a measuring cup. Set aside.
5. Place all the butter in a 9-inch cake pan (or ~1 tbsp per individual ramekin). Place the cake pan(s) in the oven for 7 or 8 minutes, or until the butter is completely melted and the pan is hot.
6. When the butter is just about melted, pour the reserved milk mixture over the dry ingredients, and whisk to combine and form the cake batter.
7. Remove the pan(s) from the oven, and carefully pour the blueberries (1/2 cup per ramekin, and the rest in the cake pan) over the melted butter, and top with the cake batter (couple tablespoons per ramekin, and the rest in the cake pan).
8. Return the pan(s) to the oven and let them bake until the cake is golden brown and baked through (check with a cake tester). The baked blueberries will bubble and release some juice. The small ramekins take about 35 minutes, while the larger cake pan takes about 45 minutes.
9. Remove the pan(s) from the oven, and let cool slightly before serving.