I was home in Chicago for one day (for an incredible Tori show). Then I packed up the car and toted the cats up to my favorite place in America—Michigan’s pinky finger. While up here, I’ll be doing six events in six days, and I couldn’t be more thrilled!

If you’re Up North, as we say, you can find me

• Monday, August 17: Book signing in Leland at The Find North

• Tuesday, August 18: Book signing in Petoskey at McLean & Eakin

Then I’ll be doing FOUR events as part of the Traverse City Food & Wine Festival.

• Thursday, August 20: Mill to Table: Baking with Whole and Stone-Ground Grains (I’m leading a baking demonstration and will sign books.)

• Friday, August 21: Cookbook Panel with , , Lindsay Gardner, Matt Rodbard, and me

• Friday, August 21: National Writers Series, a conversation about Great Bakes with me and (Don’t miss this one, Matt is amazing!)

• Saturday August 22: The Grand Tasting (I’ll be doing a demonstration and book signing.)

But wait, there’s more!

• I’ll be back on Saturday, October 24 for an event at the lovely Bay Books in Suttons Bay!

Not Up North? I’ll be Out West next week!

• Sunday, August 23 in Los Angeles at Friends & Family Bakery in conversation with (in collaboration with Now Serving)

• Thursday, August 27 in San Francisco at Omnivore Books on Food in conversation with Hetal Vasavada

A Few Recipes

While on the road, I’ve desperately missed baking. I eked out a test bake on Saturday for a cinnamon-sugar old-fashioned donut cake, which I’m still noshing on and will share soon. But don’t fret, I have some sneak-peek recipes from Great Bakes for you.

• Find my Chicago Dog Focaccia recipe here and here, including a demonstration on WGN. (Apologies to Becca.)

• My hometown newspaper showcased my apple crisp recipe.

• Last but certainly not least, shared my Buckwheat & Hazelnut Cake recipe, probably one of my favorite cakes of all time. (And it happens to be naturally gluten-free.)

  Buona Domenica

  Slow Down...and Make This Cake

  Benvenuti…

  Read more

  23 days ago · 39 likes · 23 comments · Domenica Marchetti

Summer Produce Panic

And last, but not least, here’s a little ditty I wrote for Petoskey, Michigan’s absolutely wonderful local bookstore, McLean & Eakin

As a Midwesterner and Up North resident, summers stress me out. No, I’m not talking about getting the house ready for a constant rotation of guests. No, I don’t freak out about the crammed-full calendar of activities.

Suddenly, everything I want to cook and bake with comes into season. From the precious week of perfect Bardenhagen Berries strawberries to King Orchard’s tart cherries to the last ripe plums. One day the sugar snap peas are fresh, tender, and sweet, and then next they’re gone. Or when sweet corn finally arrives at farm stands and markets, and I eat it at least once a day. Then stone fruit avalanches on us, peaches, apricots, plums, plus raspberries and blueberries. What’s a busy baker to do?! I can’t possibly bake ten pies a week, but, gosh darn it, I want to! Some people think fall is baking season but I know it’s summer.

I don’t get FOMO about anything except our all-too-brief seasonal bounty. I practically panic picking which fruit to buy, how many tomatoes to tote home, or choosing cherry varieties. You’ll often see me with a full flat of fruit and very little plan of what to do with it. Oh, and then there’s the pull to go on a hike, long bike ride, paddle the bay, and go for a swim. But what about those plums in my refrigerator? Who will take care of them? Let’s not even mention the midsummer heat in an unairconditioned kitchen. If I need to bake a pie for ninety minutes in ninety-degree heat, then so be it!

Then I take a deep breath and remember the long winter. I see the orchard through the cherry trees. I take an afternoon to can some cherries, boil up some apricot jam, and freeze some Stanley plums. In February, those cherries on my morning yogurt, that smear of sunny jam on toast, or a Sunday plum tart lends summer sun to a dreary day. When June arrives, it all starts again.

Some cookbooks to help you manage through this tough time:

• Essential Food Preserving by @Julia ski

• Saving the Season and The Cook’s Garden by Kevin West

• Jam Bake and Nature’s Candy by

• Pulp and Ruffage by Abra Berens (who penned the beautiful foreword to Great Bakes)

Happy Baking,
Martin

I would be honored if this book found a home on your shelf and in your kitchen.

Many of these recipes may seem soporifically simple: apple crisp, brownies, shortbread, chocolate chip cookies, yellow birthday cake with chocolate frosting, whole wheat bread, cinnamon rolls, chocolate pudding, and cherry pie. But these recipes represent my ideal versions of these basic bakes, and I’ve made them more times than I can count. These recipes are classics for a reason—they are the things I crave. To be honest, I wrote this cookbook for myself, so I’d have a book that I can crack open when I want to whip up one of these classics. (Even though I have my Flaky Pastry recipe memorized.) I will conjure up a batch of my Malted Chocolate Pudding on a random weeknight to satisfy a craving. Many evenings, I knead some Whole Wheat Toast Bread so that I can have toast for breakfast.

I spent the most time with the simple recipes—tweaking them to get the ideal flavor and texture while balancing how much time, effort, and dirty dishes they require. I questioned many of the rules of baking. My pudding, pastry cream, and lemon curd use one pan—no silly tempering of eggs (which is completely unnecessary). How could I get a pie crust that is both super flaky and tender? (Hint: I figured it out.) I wanted a yellow cake that doesn’t require a stand mixer or separating eggs, so I created one without either egg yolks or food coloring, yet it still boasts a sunny yellow color. I lost count of how many times I tested my one-pan brownie recipe. (And, no, you cannot leave out the chocolate chips.)

Baking is my creative outlet, so I go beyond the basics, too. My Giant Cherry Pop Tart has become one of my most-requested bakes for parties. The Bagel and Lox Paris-Brest became a regular at brunch. The Berries & Cream Cake and Lemon Verbena Cheesecake with Fresh Berries are midsummer musts. I bake versions of my Vollkornbrot and Bungalowbrot almost weekly. The showstoppery S’mores Croquembouche is a project, but a joyful and craveable one.

Great Bakes is more than a collection of my favorite recipes. I’ve filled it with stories, baking knowledge, tips, and tricks. I tell you how I became such a nerd about baking and who gave me my love of good food. I offer guides on how to tackle overnight no-knead bread and ambitious project bakes. I conclude the book by discussing the hard truth about baking: washing up afterward. I hope you do what I do: curl up with this book to read it from cover to cover. It’s a book, after all.

Order Great Bakes wherever books are sold!

I’ll see you on my book tour.

Happy Baking,
Martin

And why wouldn’t you want to preorder? The book was named one of The Best New Cookbooks of the Summer by Bon Appétit, Forbes, and The Week, plus it got a starred review from Booklist!

Chicago folks: Join me on August 4th at 7:00pm for my book release party! Any ticket that includes a book (or books purchased at the event) will receive the benefits of preordering! Get your ticket here.

Benefits of preordering:

Bonus Content! Everyone who preorders Great Bakes will receive exclusive digital content, including bonus recipes, photos that didn’t make the book, additional baking tips, links to my favorite products, and more.

Drawings! Everyone who preorders Great Bakes and provides their information and proof of purchase will be entered to win one of three prizes generously provided by some of my favorite Midwestern small businesses.

1. Flour Power: Great Bakes is an all-purpose cookbook that uses more than all-purpose flour. My friends at Janie’s Mill are offering a sampler of their organic, stone-ground flours that you’ll need! I’ve been a loyal customer for many years.

2. Jam Band: The fine folks at American Spoon bring a taste of Northwest Michigan to your pantry. Get entered to win a package of their award-winning, small batch jams, preserves, and even some of their incredible Brandied Cherries, and Cherry Spoon Fruit. I’ve been spreading their jams on my toast and cakes for decades.

3. The Best Bread Pan: I use my cast-iron Challenger Bread Pan multiple times per week. It’s the best vessel to bake crusty bread (and more), plus it will last a lifetime (at least). Challenger is offering one free Bread Pan, a $300 value, to a lucky winner!

How to enter: First, order the book. Second, register your preorder here.

If you preorder with an independent bookseller you get entered into the drawing twice!

Drawing and prizes only eligible for US customers. Bonus content available for all preorders. Bonus content will be sent and names for prizes will be drawn after August 4th.

Preorder wherever books are sold:

Bookshop | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Target

Order signed copies from Women & Children First, The Book Cellar, and Kitchen Arts & Letters.

As always, the best place to preorder is directly through your local, indie bookstore!

Canadians: Preorder from Good Egg and get 20% off.

Don’t just take my word for it, here’s what some fellow bakers and authors say about Great Bakes:

“Great Bakes celebrates the Midwest and butter in equal measure. An absolutely gorgeous book that knows exactly where its heart is.”
– , baker and author of James Beard Award-winning book Sift and the newsletter

“Not only is Martin one of my favorite bakers on the planet, he has also helped me bring the taste of the Midwest to my own family table! I had such a wonderful time getting to know Martin on The Great American Baking Show, and not only because I got to eat all of his delicious cakes for free. As a fellow Midwesterner, I can tell you that Martin is the epitome of Midwestern charm.”
– Ellie Kemper, actor, writer, and co-host of The Great American Baking Show

“Martin Sorge brings to life the magnificent playground that is Midwestern baking! His book has all the cozy, comfy, charm of Mom’s spiral-bound community cookbooks, but with Martin’s innovative flair. This will be the book you grab when baking for friends and family, no matter the occasion.”
– , New York Times best-selling author of Zoë Bakes Cookies and the

“Martin has quickly become one of the most trusted recipe writers I know. Whether I’m looking to bake something unfamiliar and new, or just need a solid recipe for a familiar sweet, I know that he will anticipate my questions, deepen my baking IQ, bring a distinct and memorable point of view, and–most importantly–he will deliver with a spectacular outcome. I’ve been so eager to add Great Bakes to my short stack of most-reached-for cookbooks. Here, at last, his broadly appealing, Midwestern-hued recipes are available for everyone to enjoy and share.”
– , author of Start Simple and Snacks for Dinner and the newsletter

“Martin is the home baker’s home baker. His compendium of baking knowledge is friendly, thorough, and bursting with Midwestern energy. Whether you’re a voracious beginner looking for a helpful guide, or a seasoned cookie queen, Great Bakes is sure to stoke your curiosity in the kitchen.”
– , author of Sister Pie: The Recipes and Stories of a Big-Hearted Bakery in Detroit and

“Martin Sorge speaks in a voice so gentle and assured, so Midwestern friendly, that the intensity of aromas and flavors he wants you to seek out and experience for yourself–the singular magic of lemon verbena, or the lushness of Michigan peaches–has a powerful kind of urgency. The uncomplicated crisps, cookies, cakes, breads, and pies in these pages feel deeply loved, the emotional anchors of a life in which baking takes the shape of care.”
– , James Beard Award-winning author of What Is Queer Food? and newsletter

“From staples like cornbread and buttermilk biscuits to German classics like Stollen and Vollkornbrot to nostalgic bakes like apple crisp and cinnamon rolls, Great Bakes is a love letter to the Midwest, celebrating its seasonal produce and deep-rooted baking traditions. I suggest devouring it in one sitting, a mug of coffee in one hand, the other free to dog-ear corners and underline the many pearls of wisdom from Martin Sorge–an enthusiastic, self-taught, delightfully opinionated, grain-loving, baking-by-weight evangelist. This delicious read will have you adding buckwheat and rye flours to your grocery list and will make you wish sour cherry and sweet corn season would arrive immediately.”
– , New York Times best-selling author of Pizza Night

“Martin addresses several audiences equally well with this book. If you want to get an understanding of the American Midwest as a cultural and culinary terroir from a very personal perspective, this book is for you. If you are just starting to bake and need help, this book is for you. And if you are a seasoned baker looking for recipes that are slightly off the beaten track and encourage creativity, this book is for you. An enjoyable read!”
– Jürgen Krauss, Great British Baking Show contestant and author of German Baking and The German Christmas Cookbook

“Martin’s passion for craft shines in Great Bakes: Modern Classic Recipes from the Midwest. Written like a love letter to the Midwest, Martin shares recipes in an approachable way with clear instructions that guarantee readers a successful bake. From simple bakers to showstoppers, you’ll discover the ‘whys’ and ‘hows’ in just enough detail to grasp the process of becoming a confident baker. Enchanting photography throughout makes this collection a must-bake book!”
– , author of Bake Your Heart Out

“This book invites you into Martin’s kitchen, showcasing recipes that feel authentic, unpretentious, and well-salted.”
– Justin Lerias, owner and pastry chef of Del Sur Bakery

“Great Bakes is a cookbook that grows with you. Martin meets bakers at every stage–offering clear guidance for beginners and playful, imaginative recipes that keep seasoned bakers engaged. Rooted in tradition but open to curiosity, this book balances familiar favorites with bakes that invite growth. It teaches with confidence, encouragement, and just enough push to try what’s next.”
– , author of Potluck Desserts: Joyful Recipes to Share with Pride and the newsletter and podcast

“Peruse the pages of Martin Sorge’s Great Bakes, and I promise you’ll never again think of America’s heartland as flyover country. With evocative photography, an eloquent baking philosophy, and chapter openers that reward attentive reading, this book teaches us to bake each season’s best. From biting into sweet corn from the roadside stand to picking ripe cherries to turn into pie, Great Bakes will leave you aching for the bounty of the Midwest.”
– , author of Mother Grains and Morning Baker

“Martin’s case for modern Midwestern baking has me fully convinced.”
– , author of the book Good & Sweet and the Formal Assignment newsletter

“Cooks like Martin Sorge rise from ‘flyover country’ again and again to demonstrate that we, too–and perhaps we, especially–possess great gifts from the fields and streams, and even greater talents in the kitchen.”
– Paul Fehribach, chef and owner of Big Jones and author of Midwestern Food and The Big Jones Cookbook

Ripe cherries hang on the trees up here in Cherryland and the 100^th anniversary of the National Cherry Festival is in full swing. But that’s not even the most exciting news.

I have 23 events planned on this first leg of the tour for Great Bakes: Modern Classic Recipes from the Midwest! From chats and signings to baking demos to conversations with other great bakers, it’s going to be a trip! I’ll be talking with some incredible folks, such as , , Vasavada, , , , Kevin Miyazaki, and others.

*Many of the events have limited tickets available, so snag yours today! Scroll down for all of the links.

Chicago folks: join me at the book release party! Get your ticket now!

A huge thank you goes out to my tour sponsor, Janie’s Mill. If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while, you know that I use the organic flour and grains from Janie’s Mill in my baking. Heck, I even have a photo of myself in their rye field for my cookbook. Go grab some of their organic flours, grains, and more!

The Great Bakes Book Tour

More details for events are coming, so go to martinbakes.com/events for an up-to-date event list and additional dates.

August 4 — Book Release Party* at The Western Bar & Kitchen, Chicago, IL — Get tickets

August 6 — In conversation with Lisa Ludwinski of Sister Pie* at Vesper Books and Wine, Detroit, MI — Get tickets

August 8 — Sunbound Books, Fort Wayne, IN — Full details

August 9 — Tomorrow Bookstore, Indianapolis, IN — Details coming soon

August 10 — Carmichael’s Bookstore, Louisville, KY — Details coming soon

August 13 — Morgenstern Books, Bloomington, IN — RSVP

August 18 — McLean & Eakin Booksellers, Petoskey, MI — More info

August 20 — Baking demonstration* at the Traverse City Food & Wine Festival, Traverse City, MI — Get tickets

August 21 — In conversation with Matt Rodbard* at the National Writers Series, Traverse City, MI — Get tickets

August 22 — Baking demonstration at the Traverse City Food & Wine Festival, Traverse City, MI — Get tickets

August 23 — In conversation with Ben Mandelker at Friends & Family Bakery*, Los Angeles, CA — Get tickets

August 27 — In conversation with Hetal Vasavada at Omnivore Books, San Francisco, CA — More info

September 1 — In conversation with Camilla Wynne* at Good Egg, Toronto, ON, Canada — Get tickets

September 8 — Literati Bookstore, Ann Arbor, MI — Details coming soon

September 9 — Baking demonstration* at Zingerman’s Bakehouse, Ann Arbor, MI — Get tickets

September 12 — Seattle Baking Club, Seattle, WA — Details coming soon

September 15 — In conversation with Kevin Miyazaki* at Boswell Book Co., Milwaukee, WI — Register

October 10 — Baking class* at Cooks of Crocus Hill, St. Paul, MN — Get tickets

October 13 — Women & Children First Bookstore, Chicago, IL — Details coming soon

October 15 — In conversation with Lukas Volger at Brooklyn Granary, Brooklyn, NY — Details coming soon

October 22 — Read It and Eat, Buffalo, NY — Details coming soon

October 24 — Bay Books*, Suttons Bay, MI — Get tickets

November 12 — Schuler Books, Grand Rapids, MI — Details coming soon

*Limited tickets available.

Can’t make it to an event? Order signed copies of Great Bakes from The Book Cellar, Women & Children First, and Kitchen Arts & Letters.

I look forward to seeing y’all on tour!

Happy Baking,
Martin

I have not been baking as much as I’d like to be, except for a spurt of intense breadmaking. Before this heat wave, I baked 18 loaves of bread for a fun event: rye Vollkornbrot, Bungalowbrot (my version of Bauernbrot), spiced Bungalowbrot, and pretzels, all with recipes from my cookbook, which is out August 4^th! I also tested some recipes for Wurzelbrot, a twisted root-shaped (or old vine-shaped) bread, and a simple 100% rye loaf. More on all this in an upcoming newsletter.

We’ve had family and friends staying at our house, so any baking takes a back seat to getting work done as fast as possible so that I can clock out and hike, swim, bike, wander, or dine with our loved ones. Forget getting any evening baking done, because a new after-dinner hobby emerged: badminton. My sister bought us a net, rackets, and shuttlecocks. Now we’re a bit addicted to it. After an hour or two of badminton, we nosh some ice cream, then play a round of Magical Athlete or So Clover. A fire, s’mores (maybe even some s’mores ice cream), and stargazing are on the docket this week, if we can tolerate the oppressive humidity.

With this heat, I’m squarely focused on the world’s best dessert: ice cream. So far, I’ve churned up some black raspberry chocolate chip, malted cookie dough, and very strawberry ice cream. Next up, I’m testing a few recipes: my Paul & Prue-approved chocolate ice cream studded with chopped dark chocolate peanut butter cups and a pistachio ice cream with a tart cherry swirl. Someone planted a bunch of mint in the ground here—which you should never do—so I’ll be making a batch of fresh mint chip. I discovered a big tarragon plant, so I plan to challenge people’s palates with my tarragon ice cream with a strawberry ripple. My niece Chloe requested strawberry popsicles, so I popped over to a local strawberry farm to grab the raw materials for an incredibly vibrant recipe from Serious Eats.

With all of this ice cream making and consuming, I’d like to get more of y’all to make the stuff. Here’s a roundup of my ice cream recipes plus a post about the tips and tools you need to get churning. (And sorry, I have yet to find a no-churn recipe that meets my standards.)

Happy Churning,
Martin

Way up here near the tip of Michigan’s pinky finger, our local strawberries have finally ripened. I snagged a flat of tiny Earliglow berries from a local farmer yesterday. These itty-bitty, electric red, deeply flavorful, coveted berries only appear for a week or so. Bakers, cooks, berry lovers, and preservers line up on a country lane to claim their fruit. The best strawberry jam out there—the one made by American Spoon—uses these exact berries in their preserves. (This jam is so good that my husband opened a jar when I was out of town and had to text me about how good it was.)

We already ate a whole quart of berries, and I used another to make a batch of my Very Strawberry Ice Cream. On the docket is a Fresh Strawberry Pie with a Pretzel Crust and a big batch of Strawberry Tarragon Shortcake—both recipes are in my forthcoming cookbook, available for preorder now! Oh, and probably a strawberry spritz or two. You’ll notice a theme here. None of these strawberry recipes involve cooking the fruit.

I loathe cooked strawberries. I will never forget the grey-ish pink stewed strawberries at my grade-school cafeteria, looking like weird little slugs swimming in a mauve puddle. And the texture—I can’t even. It’s like a snot blob. Somehow the flavor was nothing at all like a strawberry—more like a dulled approximation of what it once was.

Even as an adult, I’m always disappointed by a cooked strawberry. Whether in a pie, crumble, scone, or even a slow-roasted strawberry, the flavor seems muted—a ghost of its former self. I still can’t get over that slimy texture.

When you cook these delicate morsels, you destroy much of their pure, vibrant, ultra-complex character. And that’s not just my opinion: it’s science. Fresh strawberries contain more than 360 volatile compounds, which are the molecules that give them their enchanting aroma and taste. This article summarizes studies that examined the number of volatile compounds in various preparations. The research confirms: for the best berry essence, avoid cooking them.

Roasting or making jam can concentrate some elements, but it destroys even more of their aromatic complexity. Jam tastes delicious, but it’s a far cry from a fresh strawberry. According to the analysis, freeze-drying retains many more of the aromatic compounds (and aroma is part of taste) than cooking them does. Freeze dried strawberries are a secret flavor weapon in baking.

Some fruits, such as tart cherries, apricots, quince, and some plums actually benefit from cooking—their flavor transformed by the process. If the rock-hard yet aromatic quince is at one end of the spectrum—a fruit that can only be eaten cooked—I put strawberries on the other end—never cook them.

One exception: Strawberry jam. Cook the strawberries way, way, way down with a hefty dose of sugar, then I’ll bite. Yes, I am a man of contradictions.

Here are some no-cook strawberry recipes + one rhubarb recipe I can’t help but share again. I’m making most of these recipes this weekend.

Happy Baking & Ice Cream Making,
Martin

Local strawberries haven’t yet arrived here in Michigan’s Pinky Finger. Because of our northerly location and Lake Michigan’s cooling effect, the horticultural calendar lags three to four weeks behind even southwest Michigan. But that same cooling effect gives our fruit impeccable balance and deliciousness.

But never fear: we have rhubarb! But we don’t have air-conditioning (yet) so I didn’t want to crank up my oven to make a full pie. My sister and nieces were visiting, so we whipped up a batch of buckwheat and vanilla bean shortbread (a recipe variation from my book and my niece’s request), and some of these rhubarb and pudding cups.

We could call this custard or, as I prefer, pudding. It is custard, but calling it pudding makes it feel more casual and approachable. The addition of some good white chocolate gives this pudding richness, and silkiness, plus a bit of something special. Rhubarb and custard is a classic British pairing for good reason. Tangy rhubarb slices through the richness and deep vanilla notes of the custard, making them both more beguiling.

Recipe notes:

• Some recipe writers say that to make custard (AKA pudding) you have to heat the milk and then slowly add it to the egg yolks to prevent them from scrambling then pour that back into the pan and then finish cooking. That’s total nonsense. You can add everything to one saucepan and slowly bring it up to temperature. Save yourself the extra steps and dirty dishes.

• Use real white chocolate. If you go to the grocery’s baking aisle and grab a bag of white chocolate chips, you will notice that most brands do not even use the word chocolate on the label. They’re “white baking chips” or something like that. These flavorless, sugary buttons rarely contain any cocoa butter. White baking chips will taste awful and give the pudding a grainy texture.. Grab a bar of actual white chocolate instead.

Rhubarb & White Chocolate Pudding Cups

This recipe isn’t new. It’s not groundbreaking. But it’s what I want to eat. Sometimes recipes come to me via a creative spark, a flavor memory, and sometimes just a craving.

I had this dessert several times while in Germany. Think of it as a fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt, but the yogurt is vanilla pudding. I could call it custard (It is custard.), but pudding sounds better. You can assemble this dessert in mason jars, coupe glasses (so fancy), or little bowls. Make it ahead and serve it when you have people over or for a mid-morning snack.

Crumbly or crunchy bits, ideally some crumbled shortbread, add texture.

Makes 3-4 servings, easily doubled.

Rhubarb Compote

200 g chopped rhubarb

50 g (1/4 cup) sugar

Pinch of fine sea salt

White Chocolate & Vanilla Pudding

35 g (3 Tablespoons) sugar

10 g (3 1/2 teaspoons) cornstarch

Pinch (1/16 teaspoon) fine sea salt

2 egg yolks

250 g (about 1 cup) whole milk

1 teaspoon vanilla paste

40 g chopped white chocolate (NOT “white baking chips” or anything like that)

For Serving

Chopped nuts, crumbled shortbread, other crumbled cookies.

Make the compote. In a small saucepan, add the rhubarb, sugar, and salt and let them sit for about 10 minutes to draw out some water in the rhubarb (or add a splash of water). Bring to a simmer over medium heat, then cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes. Decant into a bowl and let cool to room temperature then cover and chill in the refrigerator until cold.

Make the pudding. Add the sugar, cornstarch, and salt to a small saucepan. Add the egg yolks and about 3 tablespoons of the milk, then immediately and vigorously whisk the ingredients together. Add the rest of the milk and whisk to combine. Put the saucepan over low heat (a 2 out of 10 on my stove). Cook, whisking gently, until the mixture is just starting to steam and feels very warm to the touch, about 4 minutes.

Turn the heat up to medium (4 or 5 out of 10 on my stove) and cook, whisking constantly (and get the whisk down into the corners of the saucepan if you can) until the mixture thickens. Pause whisking occasionally and watch for a bubble to break the surface. After you see the first bubble, continue whisking and cooking for 1 full minute. Turn off the heat and add the vanilla paste and chopped white chocolate and whisk until it has melted.

If your pastry cream looks lumpy, you can press it through a mesh strainer, which should totally eliminate any lumps.

Pour the pudding into a large bowl, press some plastic wrap on the surface. Let it cool to room temperature and then chill in the refrigerator until needed, up to 2 days.

Serve. Spoon 2-3 Tablespoons of rhubarb compote into the serving vessel. Vigorously whisk or stir the pudding to loosen then top the compote with about 1/4-1/3 cup pudding. I like to serve with some chopped nuts, slivered almonds, or crumbled shortbread.

Enjoy immediately.

The components can be made ahead and stored in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.

Happy Baking,
Martin

Here are a baker’s dozen non-baking things I took away from my trip.

1. Simplicity. While in Germany, I noticed the single-ingredient focus of many things I ate. Yes, tons of fun modern flavor combinations, but the things that struck me the most were the simplest. Asparagus soup that just tasted of asparagus. The broth is usually made with simmered peels and trimmings plus has chunks of white asparagus floating around. Arnd Erbel baked a Käsekuchen without a dash of vanilla or a scrape of lemon zest. He noted to me that he wants his cheesecake to taste like Quark. Imagine that, cheesecake that only tastes of cheese!

   

2. Spargelzeit. I arrived in Germany during the early part of the nation’s greatest vegetable celebrations: Asparagus Time. Little huts dot towns, cities, and the countryside advertising asparagus and (sometimes) strawberries. Although they offer green asparagus, it’s the thick, fat, white spears that command attention and top prices. Germans go so batty for the stuff that grocery stores have elaborate asparagus-peeling machines for customers to shuttle their own spears through. Typically (almost ubiquitously) topped with hollandaise, restaurants often have a special Spargelkarte listing their asparagus dishes. (Be careful though, hollandaise sauce is so popular that restaurants often use pre-packaged sauce with a gloopiness that turns me off.) I think I’m a convert to the sunlight-deprived white asparagus—the delicate sweetness calls to me.

   

3. Grüne Soße. The Frankfurt region’s famous green sauce. When freshly made, it’s a revelation. Packed with seven different soft herbs, boiled eggs, sour cream, and yogurt. Traditionally made with borage, burnet, chervil, chives, cress, parsley, and sorrel, it’s bright, herby, and tangy. Almost like Germany’s herbier answer to Ranch dressing. My favorite use for it? As a sauce for Schnitzel with a side of Spargel and boiled potatoes. I plan on playing around with my own green sauce this spring and summer.

   

4. Franconia. This cultural region of Germany spans the state of Bavaria and a few other areas of south-central Germany. Franconia, or Franken, includes the cities of Würzburg, Bamberg, and the conglomeration of Nuremberg, Fürth, and Erlagen. I think this region is my spiritual home in Germany. Coincidences and acquaintances have led me here, and for some reason, the folks feel very Midwestern. I adore other regions, but something here feels homey to me. Although it’s not squarely on the tourist radar, I definitely recommend a visit.

   

5. Würzburg. The main city in Lower Franconia has stolen my heart. It never had a spot on my to-travel list, usurped by places like Munich, Berlin, and Hamburg. Lower Franconia is the center of the region’s wine industry, and Würzburg is flanked by a wall of south-facing vineyards on its northern border—the Würzburger Stein vineyard. The Marienberg fortress, a lovely hike up a hill, also boasts some storied vineyards. There are at least four wineries in the city limits, many of them large historic estates. The university and its 30,000 or so students give this town a young, diverse energy. The Baroque UNESCO-listed Residenz palace is stunning, among another attractions. If you’re headed to Germany, I would recommend spending a day or so in this lovely city. Plus, it’s only an hour or so from Frankfurt via train or car.

   

6. Renting a car in Germany. When traveling in Europe, I get excited to travel by train, zipping from the center of one town to another while gazing at the scenery. Yes, Germany’s trains are notoriously delayed these days, but the system still leaps above anything we have here in America. But, I have a newfound appreciation for renting a car, at least in Germany. Someone suggested I do it based on destinations I wanted to visit, so I first rented a car last fall. Germans follow the rules, everything is clearly marked, rest stops abound, and the Autobahn isn’t scary for anyone who normally drives on an American highway. I buzzed to some tiny towns that aren’t served by trains, stopping by wineries, bakeries, and other sites that are just a pain to get to via transit. (Shoutout to my beloved Cupra Formentor.)

7. Laundry detergent sheets. When I travel for two weeks, I bring some laundry detergent sheets so that I can wash some of my clothes in a sink. Props to my mother-in-law for giving me my first batch of them. I’m never going anywhere without them again.

   

8. Reusable bags as souvenirs. I rarely, if ever, buy souvenirs on trips. I will often by some kind of food, wine, or anything I can consume. But a physical keepsake item? Nope. With one exception: reusable bags. When I pop into local grocery stores, foreign or domestic, I look to see if they have any cute reusable bags. This past trip to Germany, the grocery chain REWE had cute little muslin bags with a big red pair of cherries on it—of course I had to have it. When I stopped at Weingut Koehler-Ruprecht, I snagged a tote bag that is now a prized possession.

   

9. Generosity. I spent most of my trip with others—rarely a day alone. The sheer and utter generosity of everyone I met astounds me. From my colleagues at “bread school” to bakers, winemakers, friends, and even staff at restaurants—the kindness was overwhelming. People spent time with me, answered my questions, and shared a bit of themselves and their culture. Thank you all so so much!

   

10. Liverwurst/Leberwurst. I love liver sausage—that soft, spreadable, iron-rich, meaty stuff. I’m sure it’s not a health food, but when in Germany and I see it at a breakfast buffet or in the baking academy dining room, I grab a slice and smear it on bread. (It’s basically paté, right?) As a kid, my maternal Grandfather sometimes had Braunschweiger in the refrigerator and would eat it spread on crackers. My mother assured me that I wouldn’t like this assertively-flavored spread. But I loved to try new things. I took a little bite, twisted my face up a bit, then let it settle. I went in for another bite. The rest is history.

11. Green rhubarb. Did you know that rhubarb doesn’t have to be red to be delicious? I had several rhubarb-based desserts and baked goods made with green rhubarb while in Germany. No, it’s not as interesting to look at, but yes, it is still yummy—maybe even a bit tangier and robust.

12. Styrian pumpkinseed oil. Farmers in the Austrian region of Styria grow a variety of pumpkin only for its dark-green, hull-free seeds. These seeds are then pressed into this rich, inky, forest-green oil, with a deep, earthy notes. This isn’t a cooking oil: it’s a finishing oil. Drizzle it on some squash soup, a salad, or even a scoop of vanilla ice cream. You can buy it in America but it’s many times more expensive here. In Germany and Austria, you can find it at regular grocery stores for under 8 Euro per bottle. I always bring a bottle or two back if I have room in my checked luggage.

13. Connections matter most. I’ve said this before, and I’ll keep saying it. I was travelling “solo,” but I didn’t have a single day without either a class, meeting with a friend, or—well—baking in a bakery. Even one of my two “days off” involved meeting up with a winemaker friend and spending the better part of an afternoon hanging out in the sunshine, eating bread and tasting wine. Or meeting up with a writer and editor friend for a Tori Amos concert. It’s these connections, conversation and relationships that make life rich, meaningful, and interesting.

    

With that, get out from behind this screen and go meet up with someone.

Happy Baking,
Martin

Howdy, everyone! Earlier this week, I got my paws on a real-life physical copy of my debut cookbook, Great Bakes: Modern Classic Recipes from the Midwest. I already adored my book, but touching it and using it (yes, I baked from the book!), was better than I expected. The title shines in a rose gold and the lay-flat binding makes it a joy to set on your countertop. The font easy to read (not a given these days) and the pages are sturdy enough to last. And let’s not forget the vibrant beautiful photos (by ) and thoughtful design through the book’s 344 pages.

After nearly four years of working on this book, touching it was surreal.

Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait until August 4^th to get your mitts on this book. But, you’ll want to put your order in now. If you preorder Great Bakes you get bonus content and entered to win one of several prizes.

Benefits of preordering:

Bonus Content! Everyone who preorders Great Bakes will receive exclusive digital content, including bonus recipes, photos that didn’t make the book, additional baking tips, links to my favorite products, and more.

Drawings! Everyone who preorders Great Bakes and provides their information and proof of purchase will be entered to win one of three prizes generously provided by some of my favorite Midwestern small businesses.

1. Flour Power: Great Bakes is an all-purpose cookbook that uses more than all-purpose flour. My friends at Janie’s Mill are offering a sampler of their organic, stone-ground flours that you’ll need! I’ve been a loyal customer for many years.

2. Jam Band: The fine folks at American Spoon bring a taste of Northwest Michigan to your pantry. Get entered to win a package of their award-winning, small batch jams, preserves, and even some of their incredible Brandied Cherries, and Cherry Spoon Fruit. I’ve been spreading their jams on my toast and cakes for decades.

3. The Best Bread Pan: I use my cast-iron Challenger Bread Pan multiple times per week. It’s the best vessel to bake crusty bread (and more), plus it will last a lifetime (at least). Challenger is offering one free Bread Pan, a $300 value, to a lucky winner!

How to enter: First, order the book. Second, register your preorder here.

If you preorder with an independent bookseller you get entered into the drawing twice!

Drawing and prizes only eligible for US customers. Bonus content available for all preorders. Bonus content will be sent and names for prizes will be drawn after August 4th.

Preorder wherever books are sold:

Bookshop | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Target

As always, the best place to preorder is directly through your local, indie bookstore!

Canadians: Preorder from Good Egg and get 20% off.

Don’t just take my word for it, here’s what some fellow bakers and authors say about Great Bakes:

“Great Bakes celebrates the Midwest and butter in equal measure. An absolutely gorgeous book that knows exactly where its heart is.”
– , baker and author of James Beard Award-winning book Sift and the newsletter

“Not only is Martin one of my favorite bakers on the planet, he has also helped me bring the taste of the Midwest to my own family table! I had such a wonderful time getting to know Martin on The Great American Baking Show, and not only because I got to eat all of his delicious cakes for free. As a fellow Midwesterner, I can tell you that Martin is the epitome of Midwestern charm.”
– Ellie Kemper, actor, writer, and co-host of The Great American Baking Show

“Martin Sorge brings to life the magnificent playground that is Midwestern baking! His book has all the cozy, comfy, charm of Mom’s spiral-bound community cookbooks, but with Martin’s innovative flair. This will be the book you grab when baking for friends and family, no matter the occasion.”
– , New York Times best-selling author of Zoë Bakes Cookies and the

“Martin has quickly become one of the most trusted recipe writers I know. Whether I’m looking to bake something unfamiliar and new, or just need a solid recipe for a familiar sweet, I know that he will anticipate my questions, deepen my baking IQ, bring a distinct and memorable point of view, and–most importantly–he will deliver with a spectacular outcome. I’ve been so eager to add Great Bakes to my short stack of most-reached-for cookbooks. Here, at last, his broadly appealing, Midwestern-hued recipes are available for everyone to enjoy and share.”
– , author of Start Simple and Snacks for Dinner and the newsletter

“Martin is the home baker’s home baker. His compendium of baking knowledge is friendly, thorough, and bursting with Midwestern energy. Whether you’re a voracious beginner looking for a helpful guide, or a seasoned cookie queen, Great Bakes is sure to stoke your curiosity in the kitchen.”
– , author of Sister Pie: The Recipes and Stories of a Big-Hearted Bakery in Detroit and

“Martin Sorge speaks in a voice so gentle and assured, so Midwestern friendly, that the intensity of aromas and flavors he wants you to seek out and experience for yourself–the singular magic of lemon verbena, or the lushness of Michigan peaches–has a powerful kind of urgency. The uncomplicated crisps, cookies, cakes, breads, and pies in these pages feel deeply loved, the emotional anchors of a life in which baking takes the shape of care.”
– , James Beard Award-winning author of What Is Queer Food? and newsletter

“From staples like cornbread and buttermilk biscuits to German classics like Stollen and Vollkornbrot to nostalgic bakes like apple crisp and cinnamon rolls, Great Bakes is a love letter to the Midwest, celebrating its seasonal produce and deep-rooted baking traditions. I suggest devouring it in one sitting, a mug of coffee in one hand, the other free to dog-ear corners and underline the many pearls of wisdom from Martin Sorge–an enthusiastic, self-taught, delightfully opinionated, grain-loving, baking-by-weight evangelist. This delicious read will have you adding buckwheat and rye flours to your grocery list and will make you wish sour cherry and sweet corn season would arrive immediately.”
– , New York Times best-selling author of Pizza Night

“Martin addresses several audiences equally well with this book. If you want to get an understanding of the American Midwest as a cultural and culinary terroir from a very personal perspective, this book is for you. If you are just starting to bake and need help, this book is for you. And if you are a seasoned baker looking for recipes that are slightly off the beaten track and encourage creativity, this book is for you. An enjoyable read!”
– Jürgen Krauss, Great British Baking Show contestant and author of German Baking and The German Christmas Cookbook

“Martin’s passion for craft shines in Great Bakes: Modern Classic Recipes from the Midwest. Written like a love letter to the Midwest, Martin shares recipes in an approachable way with clear instructions that guarantee readers a successful bake. From simple bakers to showstoppers, you’ll discover the ‘whys’ and ‘hows’ in just enough detail to grasp the process of becoming a confident baker. Enchanting photography throughout makes this collection a must-bake book!”
– , author of Bake Your Heart Out

“This book invites you into Martin’s kitchen, showcasing recipes that feel authentic, unpretentious, and well-salted.”
– Justin Lerias, owner and pastry chef of Del Sur Bakery

“Great Bakes is a cookbook that grows with you. Martin meets bakers at every stage–offering clear guidance for beginners and playful, imaginative recipes that keep seasoned bakers engaged. Rooted in tradition but open to curiosity, this book balances familiar favorites with bakes that invite growth. It teaches with confidence, encouragement, and just enough push to try what’s next.”
– , author of Potluck Desserts: Joyful Recipes to Share with Pride and the newsletter and podcast

“Peruse the pages of Martin Sorge’s Great Bakes, and I promise you’ll never again think of America’s heartland as flyover country. With evocative photography, an eloquent baking philosophy, and chapter openers that reward attentive reading, this book teaches us to bake each season’s best. From biting into sweet corn from the roadside stand to picking ripe cherries to turn into pie, Great Bakes will leave you aching for the bounty of the Midwest.”
– , author of Mother Grains and Morning Baker

“Martin’s case for modern Midwestern baking has me fully convinced.”
– , author of the book Good & Sweet and the Formal Assignment newsletter

“Cooks like Martin Sorge rise from ‘flyover country’ again and again to demonstrate that we, too–and perhaps we, especially–possess great gifts from the fields and streams, and even greater talents in the kitchen.”
– Paul Fehribach, chef and owner of Big Jones and author of Midwestern Food and The Big Jones Cookbook

I’ve been quiet around here for a while. I shared my Käsekuchen recipe while at the airport heading to Germany late last month. While overseas, my days were packed with learning, exploring, connecting, and baking. Oh, and lots of bread and wine. While there, I was in input mode: taking things in, learning, observing, watching, and listening. My writing energy was taken up by taking notes. I even resorted to voice notes (a rarity for me) during some especially inspiring times. I didn’t have the mental capacity for output with so much inspiration.

Now I’m back and in the processing phase, making sense of notes, chewing on experiences, and figuring out where these stories will end up. Luckily, I had this tangy little tart all ready to go just in time for Midwestern rhubarb season.

My friend Kate, who tasted an early iteration of this tart, recently gifted me some rhubarb. She and her family arrived at our place, and she handed me a bunch of rhubarb plants with little roots. I did my best to plant them in the ground, but I have very little confidence in their survival.

Regardless of my green thumb, the farmers’ markets feature rhubarb right now. It’s the only “fruit” on their tables. A native southern Californian friend once asked me why Midwesterners like rhubarb so much. It’s relatively simple; the only real flavor is tanginess from malic acid, and it turns from celery-like to mush in an instant. I argued that in our climate, with nary a citrus to be found, this is our first taste of homegrown brightness of the year. Way before peaches, plums, raspberries, and even strawberries hit the markets, the red and green of rhubarb show up to pucker our palates.

Rhubarb is also easy to grow (if you plant it right…). This perennial features in many home gardens with almost no maintenance. I planted one plant in our tiny Chicago backyard once, but it completely took over the flowerbed. I failed to realize how large those plants can get.

Lots of folks smash rhubarb together with strawberry, but here I let it shine on its own, with the help of a bit of orange for fragrance.

Since so many of you reading this are new, I need to highlight this rhubarb crumble bun recipe. It’s a winner.

Recipe notes:

• I prefer using a light buckwheat flour if you can find it, but any buckwheat flour will work.

• I attempted a woven lattice for this tart, but because buckwheat lacks gluten, it was too fragile.

• I used very bright red-pink rhubarb in the tart shown in photos, but don’t fear greener varieties either, they taste just as lovely.

Rhubarb & Buckwheat Tart

Rhubarb and buckwheat are distant relatives, so I find ways to reunite them. The earthy, hearty tone of buckwheat and the twang of rhubarb work so well together, plus it’s way easier than making a full-on pie. This crostata-inspired tart is gluten-free, and can easily be made dairy free by swapping out the butter for plant-based butter.

Makes one 9-inch round tart.

Recipe below for paying subscribers.

Read more

I have something to admit: I don’t like baked cheesecake. I adore the flavor, but one bite is plenty. I never want to eat the whole thing—too dense, too rich. Even for this butter lover.

In April 2024, I was staying in the dynamic and gorgeous German city of Freiburg im Breisgau on the edge of the Black Forest. At the vibrant Saturday Münstermarkt, I scarfed a Lange Rote on a Brötchen, smothered in grilled onions, kind of like larger, more high-quality version of a hot dog. (That’s no slight to dogs, one of my favorite foods.) I ogled fat white Spargel, regretting my lack of a kitchen, and I got a whiff of the first spring Erdbeeren, which I bought as a snack. I sipped a glass of Gutedel from a local winery’s stall at the Markt.

I perused goods from various bakeries, but then I saw a snaking queue for Stefans Käsekuchen, a cheesecake booth. Again, I don’t generally go for cheesecake, but when somewhere new, I’m swayed by a long line of locals. They had a seasonal Rhubarb Käsekuchen available in a cute little 4-inch size. I grabbed one and plopped it into my bag. (Fun fact: Stefans Käsekuchen now has a cheesecake vending machine at the Freiburg train station.)

After a bit more wandering and sightseeing, the sky opened up, and an offensive sleet fell on Freiburg. I scurried back to my hotel. Sitting in the window, I skeptically tasted my Käsekuchen. I didn’t have a fork, so I picked it up and chomped. Ok. This isn’t nearly as dense as I expected. It’s still recognizable as cheesecake, but it doesn’t taste as rich. The barely sweet filling felt almost fluffy, with a hint of lemon zest and a whiff of vanilla. The tangy rhubarb layer underneath the cheesecake filling added a zing and the thin, just-crisp crust held it all together. I took a few bites, then sat and wrote for a bit. I kept nibbling away until I’d finished the whole thing. There went my dinner.

Germans make Käsekuchen with Quark, a keystone dairy product of the German diet. German grocers carry about as much Quark as we do yogurt. Quark goes back centuries—millennia even—in Germany culinary history. This high-protein, soft, fresh, tangy product sits, in my mind, somewhere between cottage cheese and Greek yogurt. Tangy, a bit airy, and smooth in the mouth, but not quite as smooth as cream cheese or Greek yogurt. It’s not nearly as rich as cream cheese or sour cream. (Some American bakers suggest swaping in cream cheese for Quark, but that substitution doesn’t give you the texture of the original.) There are a few brands of Quark available in the United States (I wish there were more), but it’s not something you’ll find at every grocer. (Gene’s Sausage Shop in Chicago often sells it.)

I thought I’d try using ingredients that I always have in my refrigerator: cottage cheese and Greek yogurt. I know it’s not traditional, but it works.

Luisa Weiss, in Classic German Baking, includes a recipe to make your own Quark out of buttermilk, but that’s a bit of a project. If you can get your hands on some fresh Quark, you can use 460 g (about 2 cups) of it instead of the cottage cheese and yogurt in my recipe below.

Some things to note: Käsekuchen boasts a different texture than American Cheesecake. It’s not dense and creamy. It’s not luxuriously silky and rich like Basque cheesecake. It has a light, almost crumbly texture to it. The traditional Quark used in this dish is much lower in fat than cream cheese and sour cream used in American cheesecakes, so you won’t get that heaviness.

I have tinkered with this recipe more than most in my repertoire. Even the first iteration was great and got devoured. What have I learned? There are many ways to make Käsekuchen. I finally cracked the code, somewhat serendipitously. (I’m headed back to Germany this week.)

First, I used a very traditional method for making this cheesecake: Mix the cheeses, eggs (or just yolks), cream (or not) sugar, some cornstarch, and flavorings. Then you can either whip egg yolks or cream and fold that into your batter, giving the cheesecake it’s classic airy quality. I made several lovely versions using this method.

But then, I found out some YouTube videos about how Stefan makes his Käsekuchen. The big difference in their recipe from many other is that they make a pudding of sorts by mixing together the sugar, cream, and cornstarch on the stove to create a thick paste before mixing in the Quark, egg yolks, and folding in beaten egg whites. That pudding gelatinizes the cornstarch, eliminating that dusty feeling in some Käsekuchen, and also gives it a reliable creamy-yet-set quality and provides a wider window of overbaking. The pudding reduces cracks, which is always a plus.

I’ve blathered on enough. I hope you enjoy this recipe. I worked very hard on it, and now I crave a slice of this light-yet-indulgent cheesecake.

Recipe Notes

• The Crust: If you want to be incredibly precise, you could chill the crust, roll it out, and line the pan that way. I simply press the dough it into the pan in an even layer. You can blind bake this crust, but I don’t think it’s worth the fuss. As long as you ensure an even thickness, use a metal pan, bake on the bottom rack, and bake according to these instructions you should get a browned, crisp crust without the dreaded soggy bottom. Some versions of German cheesecake have a crust that doesn’t go up the entire pan, but Stefan’s did, so that’s what I do.

• The Color: Many Käsekuchen have deeply browned, caramelized crusts, which I prefer. You don’t want it to blacken territory, but the color of a dark caramel adds complexity and depth to the finished cheesecake.

• The Score: After the first fifteen minutes of baking, I take as sharp knife and cut around the cake, where the filling meets the crust. This serves the same purpose as scoring bread dough--it tells the cake where to rise and split. The top of the cheesecake will have formed a thin crust at the top. The score provides a weak point. As the cheesecake bakes, you will watch it rise up expanding where you scored. If your score didn’t work, or you missed a section, you can always re-score it at any time. When it sinks a bit after baking, you won’t notice “the crack”

  

• The Pan on Top: After the first 30 minutes of baking, I put a baking sheet on the rack above the cheesecake to diffuse the heat from the top oven element and keep the crust from getting overcooked.

Now on to the recipe for paid subscribers. (Thank you, paid subscribers!)

Read more

I’ve been noshing on Carbonara cheese puffs and testing recipes for Käsekuchen (German-style cheesecake), Bienenstich (a honey and almond-topped yeasted cake, which has become my nemesis), and some spelt bread—all various shades of brown.

Here what’s I’ve pondered lately:

1. Not From Concentrate. invited me on her joyful, inspiring podcast, , a food podcast for busy brains, but really a podcast about life through the lens of food. Catherine and I discussed bread, business, and baking tips to calm your brain. Go take a listen and subscribe to the Not From Concentrate newsletter while you’re at it.

   Not From Concentrate

   Baking Bread + Breaking into Food with Martin Sorge

   Hello friends! It’s pre-dawn here, and the birds are chirping, and my household has been overtaken with Masters fever by the golfers in this household, which includes everyone but me. I’m doing my part by plotting to make pimento cheese sandwiches and…

   Read more

   5 months ago · 5 likes · 5 comments · Catherine Smart

2. Shades of brown. From blonde to blackened, most baked goods end up with some shade of brown. When describing the ideal color in a recipe, we have to reach into our best Pantone names to describe what we’re looking for? Is it blonde? Or dirty blonde? (Is that term problematic?) Is it chestnut brown or walnut brown? And is it the shell of the chestnut or the meat of the walnut? Or is it walnut the wood? Or is the color of a male ruffed grouse’s tail feather? Stay tuned for more on this quandary.

3. Golden brown. I’ve written “bake until golden brown” more times that I can count. Lately I loathe this term. Gold—the metal, is typically either white, yellow, or a romantic rose color. But most of the time the color of gold is a vibrant yellow, not brown. Baking something until golden implies baking it to a yellow color, not a brown color. Would light brown be a more apt term? Oftentimes brown is a more apt descriptor than golden. Yes, golden is accurate when describing something you want to be yellow, but I think golden brown needs to exit our vocabulary.

4. Sugar is a dry ingredient. Speaking of baking conventions, here is one that I stand firmly on: Sugar is a dry ingredient. Look at granulated sugar. It is, by nature, dry. Dry is an accurate way to describe the granulated sugar. Many recipes and recipe writers “consider sugar a wet ingredient.” Some argue that it is “wet” because it dissolves in liquid. Nope. Just because something dry can dissolve does not make it wet while in a dry state. Some argue that it is “wet” because it is hygroscopic, meaning it attracts and holds onto moisture. No, that simply means that sugar is hygroscopic. Some folks also argue that it should be considered a “wet ingredient” because you often add it with wet ingredients, like butter, eggs, etc. when baking. Again, that does not make any logical sense. Sugar is dry. End of discussion.

5. Traverse City’s food scene. Michigan’s Pinky Finger has the best food of any small city I know of, at least in the Midwest. From incredible raw materials (ahem, cherries, apples, wine grapes, etc.) to innovative food businesses, the greater Traverse-City area punches well above its weight. World-class local wineries, bustling bakeries, fine dining, better-than-it-should be casual dining, a great pop-up food culture and more. I’m glad to call Michigan’s pinky finger my home—it’s tasty. Is anyone here interested in my favorite food spots Up North?

6. Adding yeast to sourdough. Dough that only uses sourdough starter to rise (AKA ferment) the bread is often dubbed “naturally leavened” since it doesn’t contain store-bought yeast. That’s great and all, but I have no qualms with adding a whiff of yeast to my sourdough, especially if I’m on a timeline or my starter isn’t looking very strong. And vise versa, if I’m making an overnight no-knead bread with yeast, I typically add a puddle of sourdough starter to add flavor to the loaf. Why does it have to be yeast or sourdough when we can use both?

7. Don’t freak out about salt and yeast. Some bakers demand, “Don’t let the salt touch the yeast or it will kill it!” That’s hooey. There’s not enough salt in any bread recipe to kill the yeast. The folks at Cooks Illustrated tested and busted this myth. Go ahead, mix your salt and yeast together.

8. Two new cookbooks. Happy belated publication day to Roxana Jullapat’s Morning Baker and ’s The Book of Pizza! Roxana is the head baker and co-owner of Friends & Family bakery in Los Angeles. Her first book, Mother Grains, dragged me deep into the world of baking with flavor-forward flours, and I’ve never looked back. I can’t wait to dive into her new recipes! Y’all know that I’m a fan of everything at King Arthur Baking. Sometimes a cookbook is best written by a team, and they have an all-star lineup of bakers, writers, and recipe developers. You can count on every single recipe being well-tested, foolproof and scrumptious. Thanks, , , and everyone at KAF for this book that will be a staple in my kitchen this year.

9. The Two Fat Ladies. Who else adored these jovial, crass, motorbike-riding British women? Comedian Guy Branam recently posted a video about these icons. It’s a must-watch. If you have never watched the show, find somewhere to watch it. If you already love it, Guy cued us up to watch it again.

10. Jamie Oliver’s vinegar video. Chef Jamie Oliver has exposed himself…as a vinegar nut. In a recent video on Substack, he shared his vinegar collection and his homemade vinegars. As a fellow vinegar enthusiast, I zoomed in to see the bottles on his shelf and now covet those little vinegar pots he has. I usually stock the staple vinegars: red and white wine (I buy Katz’s by the half-gallon), apple cider, balsamic, and rice wine. Plus, I have Sherry vinegar (required for gazpacho), tart cherry vinegar (a new one in my house), and a bevy of flavored vinegars (tarragon and white wine being one of my favorites).

11. Sunken cakes. I hate when a cake recipe sinks in the middle. Unless it’s a flourless chocolate cake, if a cake sinks, then something is wrong with the recipe. I’ve seen recipes for everything from plain yellow cake to banana bread that come with a disclaimer that it’s OK if the cake sinks after baking. No, it’s not. I spend so much time tweaking recipes to ensure that this doesn’t happen. I’d rather have a domed round cake or a big cracked loaf cake than a claggy divot. That being said, sometimes a sunken cake is caused by a baker’s error…I’ve sunken my cakes dozens of times.

12. Singing around the house. I used to sing…a lot. I was in choir, starred in musicals, and took voice lessons from about middle school through high school. I was never a standout soloist, but I love music. In the past month or so, whenever my husband is out of the house, I’ve started to belt songs as I go about my day. The joy and catharsis lifts me up and heals me. Although, the cats give me a lot of side eye.

13. Writing helps you think. I’ve been watching the new season of The Comeback with Lisa Kudrow, one of my top five favorite TV shows of all time. In this season, Valerie Cherish stars in a show written by AI. It made me think about what writing does for the writer. For me, writing helps me think, it clarifies, it challenges, and it teaches. The struggle of writing makes it worth doing. For example, when writing instructions for a recipe I try to describe what I do in the best way possible. As I write it, I can revisit the recipe steps in my head. How do I tell that the dough is risen? What does this bread smell like? Why did I create this recipe? AI has its uses, but actual writing helps you, the writer.

Happy Baking,
Martin

Carbonara, that eggy, porky pasta masterpiece. I wistfully recall sitting in tiny Armando al Pantheon with Jason, resting our walk-weary legs, savoring every single bite of my first classic Roman carbonara. If you’ve never tasted it before, think bacon and eggs but creamy and with pasta and ten times better.

After making some Yankee carbonara (with bacon) for a Christmas meal, I had a revelation: Why not turn this pasta dish into a gougère? Choux pastry is egg-forward, and so is carbonara! Can I use some of the rendered pork fat in place of butter? Indeed, I can! Victory!

Gougères are crispy little cheesy puffs made with choux pastry. Choux pastry gets cooked on the stove before mixing in eggs then baking in the oven, and it forms the basis of pastries like cream puffs, profiteroles, and eclairs. You can fry choux pastry to make crullers or churros. If you add some cheese to the dough, then you have glorious gougères. I used to see cooks and bakers extol these cheese puffs, but they never grabbed me. They don’t sound too exciting, and they definitely don’t photograph well. But pull a hot batch from oven at a party, and they will disappear. The crisp, cheesy outside and the slightly moist-yet-airy interior make me swoon.

Recipe notes:

• Guanciale is cured pork jowl, and many say that it is the traditional meat in carbonara. It’s more funky and complex than pancetta. Pancetta is easier to find, and still works great.

• You could, in a pinch, recruit American bacon, but in my opinion, the smoky bacon flavor isn’t the classic flavor of carbonara. (But the bacon version is undoubtedly scrumptious.)

• I don’t add any salt, because I find that the guanciale or pancetta plus the pecorino adds plenty of salt to the dish.

• My favorite thing to do: Make the dough for and pipe them onto a lined baking sheet. Pop the sheet into the freezer. When the dough is frozen solid, put the icy blobs into an airtight container. You can bake them from frozen whenever you want. Need a snack? Need a quick appetizer? You have these homemade morsels ready to bake.

Carbonara Cheese Puffs

Choux pastry is an eggy batter. Carbonara is an eggy pasta dish. Let’s smash them together. The leftover fat from crisping up the guanciale or pancetta replaces some of the butter in these puffs, reducing waste and amplifying their savory porkiness. A generous amount of black pepper and pecorino cheese give you a savory, can’t-stop-noshing party food.

Recipe (and a cat picture) continues below for paid subscribers.

Read more

1. Preorders of Great Bakes are 25% off. Although I always encourage folks to buy my forthcoming cookbook at their local indie bookseller, Barnes & Noble is offering 25% off any online book preorder from March 24-26 with code PREORDER25. The offer is available for rewards and premium members only. Act now—this offer expires on Thursday, March 26^th. Go here to order.

2. King Arthur Baking has a newsletter. One of America’s best businesses for bakers, which happens to be employee-owned, has a newsletter on Substack. features some of the best recipe developers, writers (like ), and product-sourcers out there, not to mention makers of incredible and reliable flour.

3. Use wide bowls for folding batter. Making a chiffon, angel food, genoise, jaconde, or other fluffy cake? The reliable, analytical team at America’s Test Kitchen demonstrated how folding delicate batters works best in a large, wide bowl. While you might be tempted to fold a batter in your stand mixer bowl, pouring it into a wide mixing bowl will give you a lighter, airier result. I discovered this technique many years ago and 100% agree that it makes a significant difference.

4. Banging your pan after the bake. Making a chiffon, angel food, genoise, jaconde, or other light-fluffy cake? (Yes, I repeated myself.) Immediately after baking, hold the cake (still in the pan) about 5-6 inches above the counter and drop it. Thud. Counterintuitively, this prevents the cake from shrinking.

5. Heat vs. Preheat. When testing recipes for my cookbook, I decided to use the term “heat” instead of “preheat” for turning on the oven before baking. None of my testers, even the untrained, messed up the recipes because of that instruction. I think that unless you say “put the cake in the oven and then turn on the heat” everyone knows that “heat the oven to 350F” means the same thing as “preheat the oven to 350F.” I’m not alone here. Several other authors say this, including , author of a bunch of incredible cookbooks and a cohost of the podcast.

6. Why do you go to bakeries? In chatting with friends, I’ve noticed that very few folks buy bread at bakeries here in Chicago. Yes, bakeries sell bread, and excellent bread at that, but at most people in my circles are more likely to buy a croissant, cookie, or cardamom bun than a loaf of sourdough. This seems opposite of when I’m in Germany (and other parts of Europe), where shoppers head to their local Bäckerei for daily bread. I’m not making a value judgement here, just an observation. Because I’m also guilty of buying only pastries, but that’s because I usually have a homemade loaf waiting for me.

7. Stop food shaming. This item warrants a full newsletter someday. I have brought bread to several gatherings and folks have told me “I’m trying not to eat less bread.” Unless you have a medical need to not eat something, you can leave that comment to yourself. I am trying to eat more bread.

8. If it’s popular, I probably don’t like it. It’s a me problem. This might get me barred from the food media elite but Graza Olive Oil is more brand than substance. In high school I actively disliked the Backstreet Boys and NSYNC because they were so popular. I feel like folks say that they liked these bands even if they didn’t, just to feel cool. That’s how I feel about Graza. I see it everywhere and that makes me not want to buy it. It’s good, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not as great as some other oils. I’m such a contrarian sometimes. However, I hear that Graza now makes a mayonnaise. And I LOVE mayonnaise.

9. Oil your wood. A few years ago, I ditched all of my plastic cutting boards. (Yes, even for meat, which I don’t cook much of at all.) But I have neglected to oil my cutting boards. After listening to this week’s episode of , I decided to moisturize those sad dry cutting boards and wooden utensils. It’s amazing what a bit of mineral oil can do.

   

10. Gloves for cooking on social media. Salt Pig also reminded me of this item. Why do so many folks on social media wear black latex or nitrile gloves in their cooking videos? And I’m talking about baking videos, not meat-handling. To me, if you’re baking at home for a video, you can touch the food with your actual hands. I find wearing gloves to be weird and distracting. Also, wearing gloves isn’t necessarily more sanitary. I only wear gloves when dipping pretzels in lye.

11. Silvaner. Wine time! Silvaner (also known as Sylvaner) is a wine grape grown mostly across German-speaking places. Although you’ll find this grape grown all across Germany, the region of Franken (often anglicized to Franconia) holds this grape above all others. It’s beguiling, clear-eyed, herb-and-lime-inflected, and a most versatile food wine. Asparagus season will be upon us soon, and that veggie is hard to pair with wine—but not Silvaner. If you like Pinot Grigio, Chablis, dry Riesling, Gruner Veltliner, and/or Vermentino, give Silvaner a try. Best of all: Franken Silvaner often comes in Bocksbeutel, a very fun shaped bottle. (Although it will NOT fit in your wine rack.) Ask your local wine shop to recommend a Silvaner for you. (Below is a video of a wide selection of Silvaner I tasted a while back at the Chicago Silvaner Summit.)

12. Carbonara gougères! Need something to go with your Silvaner? Spoiler alert, the recipe that I am sharing this weekend is dangerous. It’s hard to stop eating these little choux-pastry cheese puffs, spiked with guanciale, pecorino, and black pepper. I intend to take photos of them, but I’m scarfing them before I manage to get a snapshot.

13. Cultivating quality workplaces. The New York Times recently sent shockwaves through the food world with a report about arguably the world’s most famous chef treating his employees horrendously. Yes, working in a kitchen is a hard job: long hours, hot stoves, sharp knives, high expectations. But no workplace, from a tiny office to a hospital Emergency Room, should treat their team poorly. In fact, businesses and organizations need to remember that their people are their biggest asset. I subscribe to the Danny Meyer and Zingerman’s philosophy of putting your employees first. A boss’s primary job is to support, empower, and resource their team. If you cultivate the right workplace culture, however intense or exhausting the job at hand may be, your employees and your business will thrive. Being good to your team is the best business decision anyone can make. I am incredibly passionate about this topic. If you agree, here are two books to read: Setting the Table, by Danny Meyer and all of the titles in the Zingerman’s Guide to Good Leading books.

On a lighter note, I’ve updated my website! Now you can find information on my cookbook, a page that will note any events that I’m doing, and a catalog of my writing. If you want a list of my recipes, go to my Recipe Index:

Happy Baking,
Martin (and Dani the cat, who is kneading bread)

Listen, I love all bread. But there’s something about the scent of rye bread that enchants. Forgive the corny indulgence, but whenever I pull a loaf of rye bread from my home oven, I take a moment, close my eyes, and imagine myself walking into a German bakery, that carbohydrate Candyland. Well-fermented and darkly-baked rye bread evokes cinnamon, sumac, chocolate, orange, and a basket of undefinable aromas bring both deep base notes and bright high tones. And we didn’t even add any spices to the bread.

Side note: Rye is not caraway. The soft American-style deli rye breads I grew up on were always spiked with caraway seeds. I thought that the musky aroma of caraway seeds, which look like (and are related to) fennel and cumin, was the flavor of rye. It’s not. So, if you think you don’t like rye bread, you may just hate caraway.

American flour defaults to wheat. Flour means wheat flour. All-purpose flour assumes wheat. Bread flour and cake flour assume wheat. That’s not the case everywhere. In German-speaking countries, flour (Mehl) is almost always specified by the grain. In German grocery stores you find Weizenmehl (wheat flour) and Roggenmehl (rye flour) each occupying significant space on the shelves alongside a decent amount of Dinkelmehl (spelt flour), and an array of other ancient grains and gluten-free options.

This all makes sense, because Germany is one of the few countries that almost equally spans the ideal climates for rye (in the north and east), wheat (in the south), and even spelt (in south-central area, too). Northern and eastern German breads tended to be rye-dominant, while southern bread focused on the local wheat. Most of America, on the other hand, has soils and climate suited for wheat production, thus wheat dominates our flour.

In my kitchen, however, I go through rye flour almost as much as I do all-purpose.

As with most things, Germans have strict laws around bread, especially when it comes to naming bread. Customers know exactly what they get when they buy a loaf of bread. In America you can label something “rye bread” even if it barely contains any rye flour. Most deli-style rye breads contain very little rye flour, often less than 20%. In Germany, that would be illegal. American style soft rye loaves would most likely be called “Wheat Mixed Bread” in Germany.

Here is a simplified summary of how bread in Germany is labeled*, from wheat bread to rye bread:

• 90%+ wheat flour = wheat bread = Weizenbrot

• 51%-89% wheat flour = wheat mixed bread = Weizenmischbrot

• 50% wheat (or spelt) & 50% rye =mixed bread = Mischbrot

• 51%-89% rye flour = rye mixed bread = Roggenmischbrot

• 90%+ rye flour = rye bread = Roggenbrot

Today we have a 50/50 Mischbrot. It’s half dark rye flour, have plain-old wheat bread flour.

Recipe Notes:

• You need a sourdough starter—Anstellgut, in German—to make this bread. The sourdough starter ferments the rye flour, helping to acidify the dough, which is critical (more on this in another newsletter). More importantly, the long-fermented sourdough (Sauerteig) adds incredible flavor and complexity to the bread. (Plus some health benefits.)

• Don’t have a sourdough starter? Ask around—anyone who bakes sourdough will be happy to give you some of theirs. I do not suggest creating your own from scratch.

• It doesn’t matter if you use a wheat- or rye-based sourdough starter.

• I add yeast to the dough to create a reliable fermentation, but if your sourdough starter is strong, you can leave the yeast out. It will take much more time and the final bread will probably taste much sourer.

• You will think that there is too much water in this dough, but it’s fine. It will be sticky. It will stick to your hands and everything else. Do not add extra flour if you can help it, because a wetter dough gives a better final result.

• Bake this loaf dark. Color equals flavor. You want a crispy texture and a roasty-coffee-nutty aroma from the crust.

• This loaf may be more noticeably sour on the first day, but it mellows significantly on the second day.

• Because of the fermented rye flour, this loaf will last much longer than your average plain wheat loaf.

On to the recipe…

Mischbrot

This deeply-flavored bread combines 50% dark rye flour and 50% wheat bread flour in an easy loaf packed with the heady aroma of well-fermented rye. A roasted, crisp crust, gives way to a soft crumb that manages to be hearty without being heavy. I prefer this loaf simply spread with salty butter, maybe a slice of cheese or a piece of ham. It’s a great buddy to soups, stews, and sausages.

Recipe continues for paying subscribers.

Read more

1. Improvising with bread. I’m joyfully making bread sans recipe these days. Once you learn some basic ratios, you can play. More importantly, once you know the sensory cues, you can practically make any bread without a recipe. Knowing when a dough is properly hydrated, mixed, kneaded, fermented, and baked requires practice and attention. Yes, you can describe or show something but you must learn by doing. Coming soon, an easy 50% dark rye 50% wheat bread—a classic Mischbrot.

2. Mix vs. knead. When talking about bread making, I like to differentiate between mixing the ingredients—the steps that simply combine them. To kneading—developing the gluten structure of the dough. When making bread, those two steps fade into each other, but they are distinct.

3. Fermented cornbread. Speaking of bread, I’ve baked this cornbread recipe from Breadtopia a few times this year. I used 100% whole grain, stone ground flour. The whole grains plus the fermentation means this cornbread has both more flavor and is a bit better for you.

4. Cocoa powder > melted chocolate. In both cakes and brownies, I’m convinced that using high-quality, Dutch processed cocoa powder (like my favorite) gives the best flavor. I’ve made cakes and brownies that call for melted chocolate, but I think it’s entirely unnecessary. I’m team cocoa.

5. History of German immigration to America. I’m deep in research for the required thesis-like project for my Bread Sommelier program. I’ve dove into the history of “German” immigration to America, which began in colonial times and accelerated in the mid 1800s. I say “German” because much of the immigration occurred before Germany unified. Fun fact: Many of the earliest immigrants came from winegrowing regions of southwest Germany, and these immigrants shaped American wine as we know it today.

6. European supermarkets. Whenever I venture abroad, I sightsee at supermarkets. They let you peek inside the culture and cupboards of a country. Kristen Hartke mused in the Washington Post on whether or not European supermarkets are better or cheaper than American ones. All I can say is that German supermarkets have the best mineral water selection of anywhere I’ve ever been.

7. My favorite grocery store in Chicago…is not in Chicago. There are many fabulous grocers in my city, but my favorite is the Fresh Farms International Market in Niles, Illinois. You can get items from almost every culture in this stacked-to-the-gills grocery. It’s a one-stop-shop. They stack seasonal produce at deep discount. They’ll reliably stock hard-to-find items like red currants, fresh yeast, passionfruit, Indian green chili, and anything else I can imagine.

8. Wine. I love it. I’m a geek about it. Sorry/not sorry, but I’ll be writing more about it. Good wine is time and place trapped in a bottle. Wine is like music to me. And evaluating wine is one of the best ways to hone your senses of taste and smell.

9. Fear of taste descriptors. I worked in a winery tasting room for many years. The experience of giving Hoosiers, most of whom drank little wine, tastes of wine taught me a lot about educating people on food and beverages. One thing stands out: certain words cause noses to wrinkle. Words like acid, bitter, earthy, mineral, and even floral can send people into a spiral of “I won’t like this.” Dry (as in not sweet) was the worst culprit. Faces would contort at the simple phrase “dry wine,” even among merlot and chardonnay drinkers. Words like tangy, rich, and/or fruity would help take the edge off other options. I would tend to say “fruity but not sweet” to describe dry wines like Pinot Grigio instead of the D-word. This is just a note to say that your average American may have strong negative reactions to even the most objective flavor descriptors.

10. Cooked flour paste. Speaking of language, bakers often cook a paste of water/milk and flour together to add moisture and shelf-life to a bread. In popular recipes and websites, writers usually deem this paste a Chinese (tangzhong) or Japanese (yudane) technique. Germans have used this for eons, called a Kochstück (cooked piece) or Mehlkochstück (cooked flour piece). Beyond that, many bread and baking traditions around the world use these methods method to gelatinize starches when making dough. For example, hot/boiling water can used to make roti, chapati, and tortilla dough. Can we just call it a cooked flour paste if using English?

11. Eat more jam. Why doesn’t anyone eat jam anymore? As I’ve been chatting with friends, no one seems to eat jam regularly. No toast? No PB&J? No jam swirled into yogurt? Jams, preserves, jellies, and marmalades provide concentrated fruit flavor in an easy-to-use format. Eat more jam!

12. Stop tempering eggs for pastry cream. It’s completely unnecessary. I saw a video of the one-and-only Claire Saffitz making pastry cream, and watched her dirty extra dishes and take extra steps by tempering her yolk-and-cornstarch mixture. Tempering, here, means bringing the egg yolks slowly up to temperature so that they do not scramble when you make a custard or pastry cream. Pastry chefs do that. I used to do that. There’s no need to do that. Simply whisk your sugar, yolks, and cornstarch together in the saucepan, add the cold milk, then slowly warm the mixture on low heat until steaming. Next crank it up to medium, whisking the whole time. Once it bubbles, cook for one full minute. If the mixture looks lumpy, pass it through a fine-mesh strainer. (I rarely do that last step.) There you have it—fuss free pastry cream aka pudding. (Get the full recipe in my cookbook!)

13. Relationships. The older I get, the more I realize that relationships are what matter most. And that’s not just relationships with friends, family, or a spouse. It can be relationships with colleagues, mentors, clients, suppliers, and the cashier at the grocery store. And neighbors—we need to get to know our neighbors more. As a mostly solopreneur these days, sometimes I just need to tend to the lovely, meaningful relationships, both personal and professional. I opt for in-person meetings whenever possible.

Happy Baking,
Martin

Then went to my favorite Chicagoland grocery store and came home with a $10 box of perfect Ataulfo mangos. Although I am a die-hard local produce devotee, I cannot pass up a good mango…or a sale. So now we have a coconut cream pie topped with a mango mountain.

I planned to send this out on Friday so that y’all could make this pie on Saturday, but gale-force winds knocked out our power for most of the day. This meant that I couldn’t easily photograph the pie, upload the piece, and send it out.

Mangoes, like strawberries, should not be cooked. They lose their volatile flavor compounds and taste nothing like the fresh fruit. Ataulfo mangos are silky, never stringy or fibrous. If you bring one home that dons a greenish hue, simply leave it on the counter until it glows orange. You should be able to find these in local grocery stores from now through the middle of spring.

I made a few interesting observations while making this pie.

The volume of pie plates: They’re all different. On my first test of this pie, the amount of filling fit perfectly into the crust. I was using a 9-inch pie pan from USA Pan. Then I made it again, using a 9-inch pie tin from Fat Daddios. This time, I had extra filling. It turns out that these two pie tins, although marketed as the same size, hold different volumes. I also measured the volume of a disposable 9-inch aluminum pie pan—yet again a different volume! Finally, I measured the volume of my Pyrex pie pan, which I only use for chilled pies. It turns out that this pan measures 9 1/2 inches wide and therefore holds a totally different volume from the other three. Sheesh. Do you understand why writing recipes can cause madness?

In any case, if you have leftover filling, just plop it in a dish and call it a pudding cup.

Egg yolks vs whole eggs: I made one batch of filling using four egg yolks and a second batch using two whole eggs. I barely noticed the difference between the two, so I call for whole eggs to save on time and waste.

Tempering custard: I saw dessert person Claire Saffitz making a pastry cream recently and I watched her temper the egg yolk mixture. Tempering refers to the process of slowly adding hot milk to an egg yolk mixture to prevent it from curdling. After adding the hot milk, you pour it back into the saucepan and cooked until thickened. That’s how I used to make custards, pastry cream, and pudding. Guess what? It’s totally unnecessary. Simply mix everything in one pan and heat it slowly until thickened.

My cookbook, available to pre-order, contains a recipe for a no-faff vanilla pastry cream slash French vanilla pudding.

Recipe notes:

• You can totally leave the mango out, and you have a glorious, easy coconut cream pie.

• You can omit the crust out and you have a great coconut-mango pudding.

• If you don’t have any brown sugar, use all white sugar. The brown sugar adds depth to the pie, so I recommend it.

• My favorite coconut milk is, by far, Aroy-D brand.

• The coconut rum amplifies the coconut flavor and adds lift to the filling. Try to find some.

• You should taste the salt in this pie. I was inspired by the flavors of Thai mango and sticky rice, one of my top 10 favorite desserts, which usually sports a salty coconut cream on top, that salty edge sends you back for bite after bite.

• I rarely use sweetened shredded coconut, but it’s necessary here. For some reason, sweetened coconut provides better texture and flavor than unsweetened. Do not use unsweetened coconut for the filling.

• Go gluten-free by using gluten-free graham crackers.

• Go dairy free by swapping out the butter, milk, and cream for non-dairy alternatives.

Recipe: Coconut Cream & Mango Pie

Coconut cream pie: a lush pile of heady pudding topped with more cream. Is there anything better? I prefer it with a contrasting graham cracker crust and a mountain of chopped fresh mango. The mango lightens this unctuous dessert, and a healthy dose of salt keeps you coming back for more. Ok, time for the recipe.

Read more

I wanted dessert but had little gumption to bake. Pouring milk and leftover rice into a saucepan and letting it simmer sounded manageable and comforting. I made this rice pudding to eat, not to write up a recipe for. Then I realized I didn’t have a recipe for rice pudding on hand. So, I wrote one up. For me. With no intention to share.

Given all of the recipes out in the world, who needs another recipe for rice pudding? It’s the simplest of simple and the plainest of plain: starch and milk. It seemed too basic to spend the time writing up a recipe, editing it, testing it, photograph it (however novice), and sharing it. I’m sure most of you have a recipe for it. Heck, I didn’t even add tahini or matcha or caramelized white chocolate.

Then I spiraled into the land of, insecurity. Is this recipe too simple? Why in the world would anyone read about rice pudding? Should I do a twist on rice pudding? Add a trendy ingredient to it? Use some hard-to-find rice variety? Sigh. No, I want vanilla rice pudding with a touch of orange peel. I don’t feel like succumbing to the need to stand out when I know what I want: rice and milk. So here we are. A simple, flexible, trusty recipe.

Whether kheer, arroz con leche, Milchreis or any of their brethren, a sweetened, sometimes-spiced rice and milk porridge pops up across cultures. In my opinion, you don’t need anything besides rice and milk, plus a bit of sugar to sweeten and something to flavor it. Eggs or yolks are completely unnecessary. As long as you use whole milk, the rice starch and milk fat results in a luxurious texture.

Sidebar: If rice cooked in milk and lightly sweetened is pudding then it follows that oatmeal is also pudding.

I like to use the good milk, preferably Organic Valley’s Whole Grassmilk. The richer flavor of this pastured elixir shines in this dairy-forward dessert.

You can use leftover cooked rice or raw rice. Reach for any type of white rice you have, short grain to long grain.

Which I make depends on whether I have leftover cooked rice or not and whatever type of rice is closest at hand. Pudding made with leftover rice tends to be a bit softer and taste more rice-forward, whereas when you start with raw rice the final pudding has more texture and tastes dairy-forward. I’ll take either.

Recipe Notes:

• I have tested this with short, medium, and long grain rice as well as with cooked and raw rice

• If the chilled pudding is too thick, stir in some milk or cream until it’s your ideal texture.

• If the chilled pudding is too thin, simply return it to the stove and simmer until thickened.

• Brown rice won’t work—it doesn’t get creamy and retains too much toothsomeness.

• If you want a golden, custardy color, add a pinch of ground turmeric at the start of cooking.

• Variations: You can use alternative spices. A 1-inch piece of cinnamon stick or 2-3 crushed cardamom pods. Or a bit of ground cinnamon or cardamom. Another favorite: keep the vanilla but omit the citrus zest and finish the pudding with a grating of fresh nutmeg.

• Rice pudding is a fun way to play with flavor.

Rice Pudding

Comfort in a bowl.

I like my rice pudding gilded with vanilla and lifted with some orange or lemon zest. (Jason prefers cinnamon.)

Makes about 2 servings, easily doubled.

460 g (about 2 cups) Organic Valley whole milk

120 g cooked white rice or 60 g raw white rice, rinsed

2-3 Tablespoons sugar

Pinch of fine sea salt

1 2-inch strip of orange zest or lemon zest

1/2 teaspoon vanilla paste or 1/3 of a vanilla bean, split

Combine everything in a small saucepan and stir. (I usually start with 2 Tablespoons of sugar, then taste at the end and adjust.) Bring to a boil, then lower to a bare simmer (medium-low on my stove).

Cook with a lid ajar, stirring occasionally until thickened to your liking, about 40-50 minutes.

Remember, the pudding will thicken as it cools. I halt cooking when it looks like thin yogurt. If you want to eat it fridge-cold then cook it less. If you want to eat it piping hot, then cook it a bit more. How quickly it cooks and thickens depends on the type of rice and the exact temperature of the stove. Use your eyes more than the timer. If using raw rice, test a bit of the pudding to ensure that the rice is tender.

Cool. Remove the orange zest. Let it cool to your desired temperature.

Serve warm, room temperature, or chilled. Serve plain or with fruit, jam, and/or chopped nuts. If the pudding is too thick, stir in some milk or, better yet, heavy cream.

A note on partnerships: I don’t even break even writing this newsletter. I don’t use Amazon affiliate links because I don’t want to send any more cash their way. But I will partner with brands and products that I believe in. Enter Organic Valley. They are a farmer-owned cooperative of more than 1,600 organic farms and headquartered in La Farge, Wisconsin. I’m a proud Organic Valley partner. In fact, I would use their milk, butter, cheese, cream, and more regardless of if I was a partner or not. I’ve used their products for decades.

Happy Baking,
Martin

March arrived, and I can feel that spring wants to join. At least I can watch the snow melt and hope. Here’s what’s been on my mind.

1. How to preorder Great Bakes. Several folks asked me: What’s the best way to preorder your book? Any way you order is hugely appreciated. Here’s my suggestion: Order directly from your favorite local, independent bookstore. You can order on their website or call. Better yet, stop in and talk to the bookseller. Order a copy in person and mention your excitement for the book. Your enthusiasm might get the book on their radar. When it comes time for the bookseller to place an order for new cookbooks, they might remember the interaction and order a copy or two of Great Bakes for their shelf.

2. Pudding > Mousse > Panna Cotta

3. Oatmeal is pudding. If rice cooked in milk and slightly sweetened is pudding, then it follows that oatmeal is also pudding.

4. Forced Rhubarb. The Brits have access to gloriously pink, tender stemmed forced rhubarb grown in the dark in Yorkshire. I yearned for this rarified harbinger of spring, and I recently got my hands on the next best thing: petite hothouse rhubarb from Knutson Farms. 10/10. They ship. Poached rhubarb pairs well with vanilla pudding, rice pudding, or oat pudding. And it makes a great tart (see photo above).

5. MacArthur Park. For those who enjoyed Alysa Liu’s joyous, gold-medal-winning free skate at the Olympics, you must know more about this song. The gays know it as an iconic Lip Sync for Your Life between Manila Luzon and Delta Work. But it has a much more storied history. Oh, and Donna Summer’s full “MacArthur Park Suite” runs a whopping 18 minutes. I relish every second of that Disco epic.

6. The Biscuit Week song. I’m newly infatuated with the wacky band The Dream Eaters. This song will not leave my skull.

7. Jason as guest contributor. My adorable husband and exemplary cat parent now offers content for this listicle. #5 is his inaugural contribution.

8. Homemade hot chocolate. I riff on Stella Parks’s perfect recipe for homemade hot chocolate mix every winter. I typically whiz up a double batch. Some jars depart as gifts, but I go through at least one jar myself each winter. Not too sweet, deeply chocolatey, and incredibly complex. Go make yourself some.

9. House shoes. I have clean shoes (albeit with food splatters on the top) that only tread inside the house. You know, house shoes. Do you ever accidentally wear your house shoes outside? (E.g. taking out the trash, walking to the store.) Are they forever changed? Are they never again house shoes?

10. How I have felt for the past year:

11. How your flour is made: buckwheat edition. Janie’s Mill shared a video of Mill Manager Jill showing how they create their glorious buckwheat flour. The hammer mill fascinates me, and is quite different from typical stone mills. (I use this flour constantly.)

12. Stop the book ban. Some loony congressfolks just introduced HR 7661, a book ban which would “throw schools and school libraries into chaos” as the American Booksellers Association writes. Both the ABA and American Library Association oppose this hateful, broadly written ban that targets the LGBTQ+ community specifically. Write and call your representatives today: the ABA has a handy resource to make that easy.

13. Thoughts on mastery. I’ve been having loads of fun baking bread—rye bread in particular. I’m at a place where I feel like I can improvise, riff, play, and adjust recipes and still get a satisfactory outcome. I can tell if the dough needs more water or if it’s proved properly. I can use different flours or add seeds or spices. This took years and years. The loaves are nowhere near perfect, but I feel like I’ve somewhat mastered baking loaves of rye. (And I’m talking about breads that are at least 90% rye flour.). I’m not an official or certified master baker, and I know that I will always have more to learn. So, what is mastery of something? Malcolm Gladwell posited that it takes 10,000 hours. Is there an interim step? Am I an experienced novice? I’d love to know your thoughts. Have you mastered anything?

What recipe is coming this weekend? Pudding, obviously.

Happy Baking,
Martin

Ta-da! My debut cookbook, Great Bakes: Modern Classic Recipes from the Midwest, has a cover and you can pre-order the book now.

Great Bakes will be published on August 4th, giving you plenty of time to bake recipes with summer produce and order copies for all of your holiday gifting!

Preorder Great Bakes

I’ve shared a bushel of recipes in this newsletter, but I’ve saved the best for the book. The book contains my tried-and-true takes on brownies, cinnamon rolls, cherry pie, apple crisp, chocolate cake (with peanut butter frosting), and three kinds of chocolate chip cookies. I created some soon-to-be classics like sweet corn milk bread, Michigan forest cake, and s’mores croquembouche. Oh, and the book has tons of savory recipes, too: crusty bread, chicken pot pie, buttermilk biscuits, quiche, soft pretzels, real rye bread, and a showstopper savory take on the Paris-Brest.

I encourage you to either order from Bookshop.org (which has the lowest price right now) ask your local, independent bookseller to order your copies, or order wherever books are sold. If you pre-order today, you’ll be eligible for perks and other special treats only available to those who order Great Bakes ahead of its publication date. (More on those later!)

A bit about the cover:

Although Great Bakes features glorious full-color photos, I pined for an illustrated cover. Morgan Ramberg, a Chicago-based artist, created this soulful design, which will be embossed and have shiny foil components. (Who doesn’t love a little glitz?) Although I didn’t specify it, Morgan gave cherry pie the spotlight, which fits perfectly. Huge thanks to and his team at for agreeing to go with an illustrated cover. (I’ll muse on why I wanted an illustrated cover and how the design came to be in an upcoming newsletter.)

But wait, there’s more!

I’m overjoyed to announce that the incredible chef, author, educator, and Michigander penned a touching foreword to the book. Abra has written three iconic cookbooks: Ruffage, Pulp, and Grist. I’ve admired Abra’s work for years, and I am so grateful to have her words grace the pages of Great Bakes.

We’re wrapping up the final bits of proofreading, indexing, and design, but you can reserve your copy today. Pre-orders are a critical part of book sales, which I’ll discuss later.

Today’s announcement marks the beginning of me pestering y’all to buy this book, so get ready.

Happy Baking,
Martin