I recently whipped up a batch of my hearty mac & cheese, complete with a buttery roux, three kinds of cheese, and toasty breadcrumbs on top. When gathering the ingredients, I happened to pass the smoked paprika in the spice aisle, and I grabbed a bottle on a whim, confident that a scoop would add a nice kick to my decadent dinner. While this inkling proved true, I didn’t stop there. An open bottle of smoky spice on my counter, and the idea of using it in sweets was quickly born.
I had a hunch that the paprika — with its rich smoke and bit of bitterness — would pair nicely with homemade caramel, whose burnt sugar base often echoes these same qualities. (Besides, what did I have to lose, since even Dijon had proved so magnificent?) And I once again reached for an array of coconut products — its toasty chips, its pearly milk and oil, its sandy amber sugar — along with maple syrup, vanilla and salt. The result is a mouthwatering, rich, chewy candy with an addictive hint of smoke.
Smoky Coconut Caramels (Vegan) — makes a 9 x 5 inch loaf pan: 32 caramels
- 3/4 cup canned coconut milk (full fat – not light)
- 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon table salt
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1 tablespoon water
- 1 cup + 2 tablespoons coconut sugar (a.k.a. coconut palm sugar)
- 6 tablespoons pure maple syrup
- 6 tablespoons coconut oil (preferably virgin unrefined)
- 32 toasted coconut chips
- candy thermometer
Lay a piece of parchment inside a 9×5″ loaf pan, with plenty of overhang along the longer edges. Lightly grease the inside of the pan as well as the parchment. Set nearby. Measure out 6 tablespoons coconut oil, preferably in solid state, and leave nearby. Fit a small-to-medium saucepan with a candy thermometer; set aside. You’ll also need another, smaller saucepan with a lid; set nearby.
Open the can of coconut milk and whisk well, until consistency is even (to do so, you may have to heat it gently or bring it to room temperature if it’s very solid/cold). Measure out 3/4 cup coconut milk and place it in the smaller saucepan without the thermometer. Mix in the vanilla, salt, smoked paprika, and water. Bring to a steady simmer, stirring occasionally. As soon as the mixture bubbles up, turn heat off and cover with lid.
Meanwhile, place coconut sugar and maple syrup in the slightly larger saucepan fitted with the thermometer. Heat, and use a heatproof utensil to stir occasionally and very gently (avoid splashing), just until thermometer reaches 245 F. Turn off heat and quickly add the heated coconut milk mixture (beware: the hot mixture may froth up). Stir in the coconut oil in 3 or 4 portions, mixing each until completely melted.
Turn heat to medium, and stir occasionally, letting the spoon touch the bottom of the pan to avoid burning. Let boil until mixture reaches 245 F again (this can take several minutes), then quickly pour into prepared loaf pan. Let sit at room temperature to cool until firm. (If top is very oily, you may opt to dab it with a clean, lint-free tea towel.) Place in fridge for at least an hour to firm up for slicing. While caramels chill, cut out 32 pieces of wax or parchment paper, about 3 by 4 inches a piece.
When ready to cut the chilled caramels, run a knife along the short edges of the pan, then use the parchment to lift the caramel slab. Invert on cutting board and carefully remove parchment. Cut into 32 caramels (a 4 by 8 grid); I find it easiest to cut the slab into quarters, then eighths, finally cutting each eighth into four. Top each caramel with a toasted coconut chip, then wrap with wax paper, twisting at ends.
NOTE: Because of the coconut oil, these caramels can melt quickly. Keep them refrigerated or in a cool area — and don’t carry them in your pocket or mail them during warm seasons. They’re quite chewy straight out of the fridge, and are at their prime after being set out at room temperature for about 10 minutes.
With their delightful complexity and tempting whisper of smoky spice, these candies offer the depth and richness of traditional caramels in a surprisingly vegan form. The parade of coconut adds both a layer of creamy flavor and a tropical trace, with the full-bodied coconut sugar in luscious balance with the warmth of smoked paprika. Salty, sweet, and scrumptious, smoky coconut caramels are sure to hit all the right spots.
Maybe next time… I find toasted coconut chips incredibly (dangerously!) delicious, but they’re an optional element of this recipe if you’d rather skip them. For an extra decadent treat, dip the chilled, cut caramels in melted chocolate, then re-chill until chocolate gets hard. [If you wish, choose a vegan chocolate (many dark chocolates are naturally so).]
When I came across kumquats as an adult, I was at first convinced they were the same as the fruit on that bygone tree. But upon tasting one, I realized these were different: tart, citrusy, firm. (It turns out I’d been nibbling on loquats all those younger years; their similar name had puzzled me — and I haven’t actually experienced their apricot-like essence since those days at Jenny’s.) But meanwhile, guided by my misdirected memories, I fell in love with kumquats, bringing mountains home from the market. Their sweet-sour punch and dainty size proved both satisfying and addictive — no nostalgia necessary.
While I still hope to reunite with loquats (and Jenny!) one of these days, I found myself dreaming of ways to celebrate my new craze for kumquats. I envisioned their tangy, clean flavor in balance with something creamy, something warm. I decided on a skillet cake with silky 
Draped with succulent, caramelized citrus, this tender skillet cake offers tempting and a distinctive play of harmonious flavors. Its whisper of warm whiskey and its nutty almond-flecked batter present a delectable balance alongside the kumquats’ tartness. The decadent mascarpone creates a crumb that’s moist with a creamy quality, and blends delightfully with the vanilla and fruit. Rustic yet rich, caramelized kumquat cake is fabulous for almost any occasion — or any time of day, for that matter.
*Maybe next time… My skillet is 2″ deep; it’s marked as 10″ in diameter, but it’s only 9.75″ across the top at the widest part. Feel free to use one that’s close to this size, and carefully watch the baking time, adjusting as needed and checking early for doneness. This cake has a lot of flavor complexity already, but if you’d like to add more, real vanilla bean and/or cardamom would be great candidates. I prefer whiskey for this cake, but if you’d like, try dark rum, cognac or brandy. For an extra indulgent treat, serve warm with vanilla ice cream or a dollop of mascarpone. A burnt caramel sauce could also be divine.
My recent weeks have been jam-packed with budgets, hospitals, and notaries — and you know what? All this adulthood has me daydreaming of simpler times. Believe me, I don’t want to go backward, and I’m ever thankful for my life today. But when sweet nostalgia surfaces lately, I embrace it as a break. One such memory is this 
With the cheese tune as my earworm, it didn’t take me long to start wondering whether I could use it in my next dessert. Even though the cheese world gets more diverse and interesting as I age, plain old jack would be both a timely nod to simplicity and a perfect blank canvas for my new recipe. I decided to pair it with lots of orange zest and toasty macadamias in 
With their toasted nutty edges and dense, moist crumb, these little pound cakes are a celebration of sheer deliciousness. The decadent warmth of crushed macadamias is offset by sweet, vibrant orange bits. Shreds of jack cheese add a welcome hint of salt and a luscious crackle to every bite. Hearty but tiny, they’re great for dessert, a snack, or even breakfast. Hey, they might even leave you singing an ode in their honor…
Maybe next time… If you’re craving something a bit more frilly, feel free to drizzle these cakes with a zig-zag of melted white chocolate, or an orange glaze made of powdered sugar and OJ. (I daydreamed of doing this, but ultimately embraced the unadorned theme this time; plus, they have plenty of flavor as they are.) I chose mild nuts and cheese to ensure that the butter, vanilla and orange could really sing — and I’m sure that cashews or blanched almonds would work as nicely as the macadamias. Finally, I have a feeling that a mellow, young cheddar could be a delicious (and more detectable) stand-in for the jack.
Maybe it’s all the long-awaited rain that has flowers on my mind lately: the magnetizing truth that soggy, grey days will lead to blooming brightness. So when I recently came across dried hibiscus petals in powdered form, I knew they were destined for my next dessert. I was already craving their vivid color and tart taste — and besides, it had been awhile since I’d 
While hibiscus is often flaunted in brewed tea (it’s the zing in 
Maybe next time… I love the pairing of hibiscus with lemon here, but I have a hunch that orange zest and juice would be just as wondrous — or maybe even lime or grapefruit. Similarly, melted unsalted butter can be swapped in for the oil if you wish. *I found my hibiscus powder at a natural foods store and have seen it online, but I realize it’s much easier to find the whole dried petals. These can be powdered in small batches in a blade spice/coffee grinder; you could also try a mortar and pestle, but be ready for a workout!
Even though the holiday season can seem to smother us with cookies, their high time never ends in my orbit (it’s cookies all year around here!). For a long time, I’ve wanted to create a bright and buzzy cookie as a nod to my most popular 
I decided on a buttery bar cookie full of crushed juniper berries (gin’s signature essence), plus plenty of lime zest for a natural match. The sweet, crisp icing would deliver a dose of 
Maybe next time… Instead of strips of lime zest, green or silver sugar sprinkles are a fun and easy decoration — just be sure to scatter them the moment you add the icing since it hardens quickly; they may not stick otherwise. Similarly, a zig zag of tinted icing or melted white chocolate would also be lovely across each cookie. If you don’t need a whole pan’s worth of cookies, shape dough into balls and bake what you need, halving the recipe or freezing extra dough balls. Use a scant tablespoon of dough a piece (this will make 4 dozen), and bake at 350 on parchment lined cookie sheets, baking for 12 – 15 minutes. Dunk cooled cookies in icing or spoon it over each one. 
butter, sugar, flowers 
