By Popular Demand: strawberry shortcake

There are certain dishes that Annalena just doesn't make anymore. In some cases, it is because she is bored with them. In others, it is because, well, miraculous cook though she may be, Annalena just does not do the dish well. Fried chicken, for example, is NOT one of her strong points. Nor are brownies. I swear, that if I put four pounds of ingredients into a brownie mix, what comes out, at the end, weighs
20. It's true. I swear it is. Had the Greeks had my brownies at the time of the Trojan war, they would not have needed the horse. My brownies would have brought down the wall. My beter half makes a better brownie.
Now, if you think about those two dishes, they are both "iconic." Who does not know fried chicken, or brownies? So, deciding to leave alone the classics to those who can do them, I have done so. And so it was with strawberry shortcake. Until this week.
It was one of those "perfect storms" of cooking. Here's what happened. I swear, it is all true. Nevia, the goddess of vegetables and some fruit, said to me, last Saturday "would you like some strawberries? The catch is, you have to make me something?" My reply, not being all that stupid was "SURE. What would you like?" She then put about 4 pounds of berries into containers for me and said "how about strawberry shortcake?"
Oh boy. Well, I did not want to look a gift strawberry in the mouth, nor did I want to disappoint Nevia, so home I went, determined to defeat this beast. And I have. With the help of the indispensible Lindsey Shere.

I use Ms. Shere's book for ice cream recipes, and always forget that it is a fabulous book on desserts, generally. Seriously, ragazzi, you should all track down this book and cook from it. Her style is wonderful, and the recipes are "elegant." I say that in the sense of a beautiful black dress. You want to say it's "simple," but it's sad that this word has developed a set of negative connotations. So, let's stick to elegant. So it is with this recipe.

See, getting the fruit and whipped cream right has never been a problem for the redoubtable Annalena. But the biscuits? Again the "4 pounds in/10 pounds out" problem was always there. But the recipe that Ms. Shere provides is stellar. And it's elegant.

OK, it's simple. Let's get started.

First thing: get your berries. LOTS of them . As many as you can afford. This is a dessert of pure, late spring indulgence. Get ripe ones, but if they're not so ripe, what you're going to do to them will help a lot. Cut them into halves , or quarters if you're using the huge darlings that have no taste. Then, add a quarter cup of sugar for every four cups of cut berries you have. Crush about a quarter of the berries with the back of a spoon or a meat pounder (CAREFUL kids), or whatever you have. Then, put the mix aside, unrefrigerated, and let it macerate. The juices will run, and if you taste this after about 20 minutes, you will hug yourself for the miraculous thing you've just done.

Now, let's get the biscuits together. You need 2 cups of flour, a half teaspoon of salt, a TABLESPOON (important), of baking powder, a stick of cold, unsalted butter, and a cup of cream. Take a quarter cup of that cream and put it aside.

Mix the dry ingredients together. Then put in the cut butter and get your fingers in there and just mix the stuff up until you get a mix that looks like rough cornmeal or polenta. Some pieces of butter floating around are fine. Pour the 3/4 cup of cream into that, stir it around (I used my hand), and then dump everything onto a board. Knead it a few times, and then roll it out, or press it out, to a 1/2 inch thick slab. You can either cut this into squares, or get a round cutter and cut the classic biscuits out of them. Try to make about 10-12 (I got ten). Put them on an ungreased baking sheet, and then paint the tops with the remaining cream.

Bake them for 12 minutes, if you make them smaller, or fifteen, if you made them bigger.

You will be amazed how they will puff up. They will brown on the bottom, which is fine. Take em out, and let them cool.

While they're cooling, take another cup of heavy cream and add about a quarter cup of sugar to it. Whip it to soft peaks.

Now, you're ready. Cut open the biscuits and put a layer of half of them down. Put the berries and juice over that, saving just a bit of juice. Put the other half of the biscuit halves on the berries, and cover the mass with the cream.

You could also do this in individual portions. And you could use ice cream, or custard, in place of the whipped cream. You could also mix different fruits. I plan to do this with blueberries AND with sour cherries, as they come into season.

A cooking monster, defeated, thanks to the push of a nice Korean lady, and the book of a confirmed Californian. Annalena considers this a good day.