Kirsch

My first experience making Swiss cookies was less than optimal. A friend had given me his mother’s recipe for Basler leckerle, a spiced almond cookie swathed with a kirsch glaze. They’re meant to be kept in a tin for 6 months before eating, during which time they supposedly soften up and become toothsome delights. To make a six-month story short, I was skeptical when I plucked one of the cookies out of the tin. Then I bit down and almost lost a tooth they were so hard. Since then, I’ve avoided Swiss cookies. But, some time later, at Stohrer bakery on the rue Montorgeuil in Paris, I tasted the lovely zimtsterne, star-shaped cinnamon-almond cookies of Swiss origin that are made only around the holidays, and fell in love. I was prompted to come up with a recipe that I could have year-round—as well as one that wouldn’t require a trip to the dentist. I couldn’t find a cookie cutter in the traditional zimtsterne shape of a six-point star in France where I live, so a friend brought me one from New York, which I guess makes this Swiss cookie a star of international proportions.

One late summer weekend, I was visiting a friend who lives in the wilds of Northern California, and I noticed lots of wild blackberry bushes with berries that were so plump and ripe that they were practically falling off the branches. I can never resist free food, so I set out for an afternoon of heavy picking. When I came back, my basket loaded down with fresh berries, my friend casually asked, “Did you see the rattlesnakes?” “Um . . . no, I . . . I didn’t,” I replied. Actually, I was really glad to have missed them. That incident didn’t quite scare me away from picking other types of fruits and berries, but I’ll let others risk their lives for blackberries, which I’ve been happy to plunk down money for ever since that day.

If you’re as wild about berries as I am, you’ll find that this pie is the height of luxury and one of the season’s greatest treats. It’s a dessert that I make only in the summer, at the moment when berries are abundant and at their peak. When I lived in San Francisco, I’d drive east across the bay to Monterey Market in Berkeley where flats of berries were so plentiful—and so inexpensive—that I found it impossible not to come home with at least a few piled up in my trunk. In addition to turning the berries into jams, compotes, and sorbets, I’d always bake this pie. A total of 6 cups of berries makes up the filling—use whichever types you prefer. Unless you buy berries by the flat, like I did, most berries are sold in half-pint or pint baskets, so expect to have some leftover fruit, which I know you’ll put to good use. I always did.

This is the dessert for lemon lovers. It’s light, but supersaturated with lemon flavor. Semifreddo usually refers to a dessert that’s partially frozen, but this cake layered with lightened lemon curd was christened “semifreddo” by the Italian American chef at the time at Chez Panisse. I don’t know about you, but I find it pretty hard to win an argument with an Italian, so I let the name stick. I based this recipe on the lemon semifreddo that one of my colleagues, Linda Zagula, made at the restaurant. It was not only popular with the customers, but with me, too—I couldn’t resist sneaking a mouthful every so often. And from the scraped-clean spoons I’d find hidden in the pastry fridge after all the guests had gone home, I knew I wasn’t the only one.

Here’s a superb dessert for highlighting summer peaches when they are at their peak of flavor and so juicy that you struggle to pick up the slippery slices that elude your grasp. This is an ideal dessert to bring to a summertime picnic or barbecue: it’s easy to assemble in advance and even easier to eat.

To boost the reputation of the much-maligned fruitcake, I wanted to create a version quite different from those sticky, oversweet loaves riddled with iridescent fruit and soggy pecans. This recipe was my answer: an exceptionally moist loaf, chockablock with freshly toasted nuts, perky dried cherries, and a double wallop of chocolate flavor, courtesy of cocoa powder and lots of chocolate chips. I was glad that my modern-tasting fruitcake made converts out of those who tried it. But I didn’t expect that so many would want to give it a traditional soaking of spirits to preserve the cake. I set to work and experimented a few times, but I had a hunch that something was amiss when I noticed some movement underneath the gauze wrapping. I unwrapped the cake and . . . well, let’s just say I discovered I was only one of the many creatures who enjoy this fruitcake. That was the end of my experiments. Instead, I just use kirsch-flavored glaze that can be added at the last minute.

Warm, boozy cherries over ice cream is a classic dessert, and it’s so easy to do. We like ours over chocolate ice cream (but when Bobby doesn’t quite have the energy to make this, you know he’s always got Cherry Garcia in the freezer).

Take a tray of these to someone who deserves them—most kids love the look of them but prefer them without the alcohol. Just add a splash of vanilla instead of the Kirsch suggested below. If possible, buy ripe, tart black cherries (like Schmidt) in season. Otherwise, drained frozen or canned sour cherries will work, but avoid heavy syrups or cherry pie fillings. For tips on pitting fresh cherries, see page 59. If you want a shortcut, substitute 1 teaspoon vanilla extract for the vanilla bean.

This classic charlotte or schaleth aux cerises is adapted from Françoise Tenenbaum, a deputy mayor in Dijon who is responsible, among other things, for bringing meals on wheels to the elderly poor. At a luncheon in the garden of a fifteenth-century building where the film Cyrano de Bergerac, with Gérard Depardieu, was filmed, Françoise described this Alsatian version of an apple, pear, or cherry bread pudding that she makes for her family. Starting with stale bread soaked in brandy, rum, kirsch, or the Alsatian mirabelle liqueur, it is baked in an earthen schaleth mold or, as Escoffier calls it, a “greased iron saucepan, or a large mold for pommes Anna.” Earlier recipes were baked in the oven, for 4 to 5 hours. Françoise bakes hers in a heavy cast-iron skillet or pot for less than an hour, at Passover substitutes matzo for the bread, and, except during cherry season, makes hers with apples.

This dessert is as easy as it is delicious—put it together in the morning and let it chill in the fridge until dinner time.

Savor these morsels with benefits: Each has nearly 20 percent of your calcium RDA.

Coarsely ground black pepper lends a spicy note to this dense, moist brownie cake studded with dried cherries and chocolate chips. Cherry Preserves are thicker than cherry jam and give the Black Forest Torte more body. Look for cherry preserves in supermarkets.

These dainty tea cakes took many of us back to our childhood. A few drops of kirsch gives them a faintly eastern European air.

Heavily spiked, our take on the Singapore Sling highlights the aromatic quality of Benedictine, a Cognac-based liqueur that smells of honey, citrus, and herbs.

We found a significant difference in the amount of liquid exuded by fresh versus frozen sour cherries when cooked. If your cherries give off a lot of liquid, you may have to reduce your syrup a little longer.

The leftover brandied cherries will keep for up to two weeks in the refrigerator. For an attractive garnish, thread a 4x1/2-inch strip of orange peel on a short skewer and top with a cherry, then place in drink before serving.