travelogue: portugal + pastéis (pastel) de nata

I can’t remember exactly when Matt started putting our trip together, but some time last year we decided we should visit Portugal and we would get there by cashing in all the frequent flier miles we had been squirreling away. It had been years since the two of us took a vacation alone - that is, without kids. Our plan began to hatch when we found out that my husband's cousin would be getting married in Manhattan in June. Since Otis and Theodore were invited to the celebration, it made sense for us to fly in, go to the wedding, let the boys spend quality time with their grandparents and extended family for 8 days, while Matt and I traveled to Lisbon.  Though the frequent-flier-non-direct route to Portugal seemed a little bit silly and a smidge inconvenient (NY à North Carolina à Philly à Lisbon), the multiple stops  without the boys really didn’t seem like a big deal. Besides, I had so many magazines to catch up on and books to read too! It sounded like the perfect plan.

But the timing of the trip wasn’t perfect at all. My father passed away in May, and while the shivawas over, I wasn’t sure what to do. Somewhere in my brain I thought that by going on this trip I wasn’t honoring his memory properly. I aired my concerns to my mother. She responded (with a strong Bronx accent) something like, “Batya, we’ve all been through a lot. Go with Matt. Have a blast. Enjoy each and every minute. Just go! Please.” My mother is known for being very direct and she never minces words. So I thought about it. We did need a change of venue. Maybe going on this pre-arranged trip would take my mind off things a bit

…or at least give me a respite from the constant grief that I had been feeling. Matt had been through a lot too, and I decided my mom was right. So we went. And I’m so glad we did.

Though there were constant reminders of my father on the trip, I was able to appreciate all the new things I was seeing. I felt inspired. We didn't rent a car, so we wandered the cobblestone streets of Lisbon for hours by foot. We went to the markets, the historic sites and we walked along the water. At night we made our way to the Festival of St. Antonio, a month long celebration that is particularly active in the oldest part of the city, the neighborhood of Alfama, which is also where we stayed. We took a 2 hour walking tour of the city and learned about azulejo, the ubiquitous blue tile paintings that tell the story of Lisbon’s denizens and her history. We arrived on the "early side" (10:30 pm!) at 100 maneiras and sat down for a 10-course tasting menu. It was modern-Portuguese meets molecular gastronomy, and yes they would accommodate vegetarians. That night, after dinner, we walked around for hours and took in all the architecture and the night-life. It felt great to be in the city. 

After two days in Lisbon, we headed west to wine country. When we arrived in Estremoz, a walled city with a magnificent castle, we were a bit surprised to discover that the hotel we booked (the Pousada) was in fact the city's castle! It was regal and filled with aristocratic antiques. There was a beautiful pool too, which served us well because the weather was really (really) warm. 

Our next stop was the coastal city of Cascais, which I mispronounced more times than I care to admit. We walked along the beach and toured the UNESCO World Heritage Sites at Sintra just a few miles away. We weren't able to find the pedestrian path that connects the historic city center to the castles, but being Coloradans (yup!) we decided to trek up the main road, dodging cars and scooters most of the way. I made the hike in less-than-optimal footwear, but after living at high(er) altitude for several years already I felt like I could conquer the "mountain."

When we got to the top of the mountain we toured the Palace of Pena, a 19th century architectural gem. It was incredible! And so was the Castelo dos Mouros (the Moorish Castle). Really a fortress, this castle dates back to the 8th century and was built by the Moors- Medieval Muslims who were predominantly of Arab and Berber descent and came from North Africa before settling in the Iberian Peninsula. They invaded Portugal in the early 700s, were eventually pushed back by Christian armies, but the Moors left, in addition to the fortress, a tremendous influence on Portuguese architecture, food and culture. 

The World Cup began when we were in Portugal, too, which was pretty exciting considering the nation's love affair with futbol. The night of the first game we ordered cocktails at an outdoor bar situated on a large pedestrian thoroughfare. We were sandwiched between a skipper who had sailed down the coast of Portugal with his nephew, and an Irish potato farmer (a young guy around 28) and his girlfriend. I'm not exactly sure how we ended up at an Irish pub at 3 in the morning discussing the Isle of Man and the Bee Gees, but it did happen…as these things do when one travels.

We ate, we drank, and then we ate some more. In other words, we had a time. 

This trip was the break we needed before getting back into the routine of regular life without someone we loved dearly. 

Thank you, Portugal. Obrigado! I hope to see you again some day (soon). 

Pasteis (or Pastel) de Nata is the most famous pastry in Portugal, and we had some excellent ones in Lisbon. One of my favorites came from a bakery called Pastelaria Orion. As we walked through the door the bakers were swapping out trays, so the pastries we ate were warm and just-out-of-the-oven. Top pasteis de nata can also be found in Belem (the most famous) and throughout Alfama. It's hard to find a bad custard tart in the city! And now, even 5 weeks after our trip, I'm still dreaming of them. Here's a recipe I liked.

Note: Homemade pasteis/pastel de nata probably won't have the char of the ones you'll find in bakeries or pictured below (from Pastelaria Orion). Unless that is, you have an oven that can get really hot. 

PORTUGUESE PASTEIS DE NATA 

(Courtesy of Leite's Culinary, David Leite, author of The New Portuguese Table)

Special equipment: a mini-muffin tin with 2-by 5/8 inch wells

Hands on time: 1 hour

Total time: 2 hours, 30 minutes

Yield: Makes about 40

*Read the comments in the link. They are useful. 

INGREDIENTS

For the dough

•2 cups minus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

•1/4 teaspoon sea salt

•3/4 cup plus two tablespoons water

•16 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature, stirred until smooth

For the custard

•3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

•1 1/4 cups milk, divided

•1 1/3 cups granulated sugar

•1 cinnamon stick

•2/3 cup water

•1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

•6 large egg yolks, whisked

•Powdered sugar

•Cinnamon

DIRECTIONS

Make the dough

1. In a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook, mix the flour, salt, and water until a soft, pillowy dough forms that cleans the side of the bowl, about 30 seconds.

2. Generously flour a work surface and pat the dough into a 6-inch square using a pastry scraper as a guide. Flour the dough, cover with plastic wrap, and let it rest for 15 minutes.

3. Roll the dough into an 18-inch square. As you work, use the scraper to lift the dough to make sure the underside isn’t sticking.

4. Brush excess flour off the top, trim any uneven edges, and using a small offset spatula dot and then spread the left two-thirds of the dough with a little less than one-third of the butter to within 1 inch of the edge.

5. Neatly fold over the unbuttered right third of the dough (using the pastry scraper to loosen it if it sticks), brush off any excess flour, then fold over the left third. Starting from the top, pat down the packet with your hand to release air bubbles, then pinch the edges closed. Brush off any excess flour.

6. Turn the dough packet 90 degrees to the left so the fold is facing you. Lift the packet and flour the work surface. Once again roll out to an 18-inch square, then dot and spread the left two-thirds of the dough with one-third of the butter, and fold the dough as in steps 4 and 5.

7. For the last rolling, turn the packet 90 degrees to the left and roll out the dough to an 18-by-21-inch rectangle, with the shorter side facing you. Spread the remaining butter over the entire surface.

8. Using the spatula as an aid, lift the edge closest to you and roll the dough away from you into a tight log, brushing the excess flour from the underside as you go. Trim the ends and cut the log in half. Wrap each piece in plastic wrap and chill for 2 hours or preferably overnight.

Make the custard

9. In a medium bowl, whisk the flour and 1/4 cup of the milk until smooth. Set aside.

10. Bring the sugar, cinnamon, and water to a boil in a small saucepan and cook until an instant-read thermometer registers 220°F (100°C). Do not stir.

11. Meanwhile, in another small saucepan, scald the remaining 1 cup milk. Whisk the hot milk into the flour mixture.

12. Remove the cinnamon stick then pour the sugar syrup in a thin stream into the hot milk-and-flour mixture, whisking briskly. Add the vanilla and stir for a minute until very warm but not hot. Whisk in the yolks, strain the mixture into a bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and set aside.

Assemble and bake the pastries

13. Heat the oven to 550°F (290°C). Remove a pastry log from the refrigerator and roll it back and forth on a lightly floured surface until it’s about an inch in diameter and 16 inches long. Cut it into scant 3/4-inch pieces. Place a piece cut-side down in each well of a nonstick 12-cup mini-muffin pan (2-by-5/8-inch size). Allow the dough pieces to soften several minutes until pliable.

14. Have a small cup of water nearby. Dip your thumbs into the water, then straight down into the middle of the dough spiral. Flatten it against the bottom of the cup to a thickness of about 1/8 inch, then smooth the dough up the sides and create a raised lip about 1/8 inch above the pan. The pastry sides should be thinner than the bottom.

15. Fill each cup 3/4 full with the slightly warm custard. Bake the pasteis until the edges of the dough are frilled and brown, about 8 to 9 minutes.

16. Remove from the oven and allow the pasteis to cool a few minutes in the pan, then transfer to a rack and cool until just warm. Sprinkle the pasteis generously with powdered sugar, then cinnamon and serve. Repeat with the remaining pastry and custard. If you prefer, the components can be refrigerated up to three days. The pastry can be frozen up to three months.

Here's another one that I will try from The Portuguese Diner, Tia Maria

And another recipe

Or I simply might just go back to Lisbon. Yeah, that sounds good! 

love + chocolate molten cake

It’s been 5 ½ years since my husband, Matt, proposed to me on Calder Hill at the Storm King Sculpture Garden in Upstate New York. About a week after the proposal, we were legally married at City Hall in Manhattan (which is also the same building where my husband’s grandfather used to work as a condemnation lawyer for the city- just a fun fact!). We filled out the marriage certificate, repeated a few phrases, there was perma-smile, laughter and a few tears of joy. And in an instant we were legally wed. In that moment my husband gave me two of the most valuable gifts of all: his commitment to our love…and health insurance.

Our legal marriage was followed by a religious ceremony in my parent’s backyard near the roses. It was important to them since they are observant and religious people. There was a ketuba, a rabbi, mumblings in Hebrew...and just like that, our union was sanctioned by the Lord (and though my husband and I are both agnostics and our interest in Jewish culture boils down to customs that revolve around food- it was important to our loved ones, so we did it).

By the time our third wedding came around, this one at Wave Hill in NYC in early November, all of the legal and religious requirements had been satisfied, so we could really just have a party and do things our way. We wanted the celebration to feel like “us”- so we asked our friend Rigsy to assemble a four piece Jazz Band - which we knew would set the tone we wanted. We walked down the aisle to Louis Armstrong’s What A Wonderful World and concluded the ceremony with Down by the Riverside- which admittedly is a baptismal song with Gospel roots, but it’s a song that we’ve always loved and reminded us of our time in the Big Easy, which is where we met and fell in love. We also got married next to the Hudson River, so it kind of tied together nicely.

There were speeches about love and the early parts of our union. Our dear friend Megan read Walt Whitman's poem Crossing Brooklyn Ferry and my father-in-law recited a Scottish sonnet that everyone remembers loving, but no one can remember where it came from or what the title was (if you know, let me know!). 

My mother- who's a really a great orator which I attribute to her years in education- presented the sermon. She talked about doing good and honest work (at which point many of my husband's Legal Aid colleagues erupted into applause) and then she talked about the significance of the chuppah, the bridal canopy. 
Standing under the chuppah, surrounded by 160 of our closest friends and relatives, was a truly wonderful moment-- one of the best of my life to be truthful. Our chuppah was constructed of poles, linen and what seemed like a million flowers (which were later donated to the Hebrew Home for the Aged for crafting projects). Traditionally, the chuppah symbolizes the couple's first home together and it is also usually associated with the tent of Abraham-- since it is open on all sides. The idea is that newlywed couple should be able to build a home that is welcoming to passersby, neighbors, friends and family.


When we bought our home in Denver, it was our hope that it would be filled with a never-ending stream of loved ones and neighbors. And in that sense, our hope has come true. For almost nine weeks straight, family and friends came to stay with us- beginning in July and ending in the early fall. Friends who were road-tripping across the country, friends who were making Denver a pit stop on a larger trip to explore national parks, and friends who just wanted to see where we finally landed (and missed us!) all made their way to our new abode in Congress Park. My parents, my brother, in-laws, aunts and cousins came too. We all cooked together, ate together, drank together, and sat outside on the porch talking and laughing. There was warmth and love…and somehow, in our fair city by the mountains, we managed to create our own little chuppah-- where the door is always open…and if you come and visit you'll be greeted by something warm coming out of the oven…maybe, even, this chocolate molten cake.  
See you all soon! 
xo, 
Batya
Wedding photography by: Courtney Davidson Photography


Last month Matt and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary. To celebrate the milestone I made Chocolate Molten Cake, which was the dessert served at our wedding! This recipe comes from a former law school classmate, Laura Marasco, who like me, seems to have developed a love of cooking and baking. So thank you Laura for sending this my way. The recipe is an amalgamation from several sources and Laura cobbled it together about 10 years ago. If it is attributable to any one particular source, she can't remember. My only tip is: DO NOT over bake it! For all you Denverites out there, I suggest pulling the ramekins out of the oven at around 9 minutes!

Chocolate Molten Cakes
Ingredients
1 stick butter
2 tablespoons flour
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate (Laura uses Hershey's Dark. I went with a bulk bittersweet block- label unknown)
2 tablespoons cold cream (or milk or half & half)
1/4 cup cocoa
2 large eggs
2 large egg yolks
1/4 cup of sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
Preparation
Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F. Grease and flour the ramekins or mugs.
In a double boiler (or a bowl set over a pot of simmering water), melt the stick of butter with the chocolate, stirring until smooth. Remove from the heat.
Whisk in the cocoa (sift it in) and cream. Sift flour over top and whisk that in too.
In a bowl, whisk together (or use a mixer) the eggs, egg yolks, vanilla and salt until thick ribbons form, about 3 minutes.
Add sugar and mix until well incorporated. Mix a little of the chocolate into the eggs to temper. Add the rest gradually. 
Divide among the dishes and bake until the sides of the cake are set but the inside is still soft- about 10-12 minutes* (*Denver or altitude bakers- mine took 9 minutes). DON'T OVERBAKE!
Remove from the oven and let cool in the ramekins for 2 minutes. Then unmold (or you can serve in the baking dishes) onto dessert plates. 
Serve with a little coffee gelato or fresh whipped cream. I served it with a tiny bit of powdered sugar and berries.
Enjoy! 
Makes 4


cherry picking at berry patch farms (+cherry compote)


Otis, who turns 4 in the fall, has already committed himself to being a firefighter, a surgeon, a train conductor, a man who studies planets, a dinosaur expert and a farmer when he grows up.
I told him, "Well Otis, those are all very hard and worth while jobs. You can do any one of those things so long as you put in a lot of hard work..." He nodded his head like he understood.

But hard work doesn't always guarantee success. On a trip to Berry Patch Farms we learned that even hard work can result in a total crop failure, as was the case for the farm's first round of strawberries which were non-existent due to late snowstorms in April. Yet the farmers remain determined; they are hopeful that another crop will come around in August and they say the fruits are looking good so far... 
I was impressed that even while acknowledging "some years this sort of thing, it just happens," the farmers remain so optimistic. 

That's when I realized that I'd probably make a terrible farmer. I don't mind hard work (and the drenching sweat that comes from spending long hours in the hot sun), but the stress that comes with the territory and the strength you must posses in order to accept things that are beyond your control (like nature) well, that would be too much.   

When we moved into our new house, I thought that we would finally be able to "live off the land." Despite our small urban plot, I was thinking we'd be able to grow enough tomatoes (heirloom, beefsteak and cherry), jalapeno peppers, cilantro, basil, dill, cauliflower, and strawberries to take us through the summer months. 
But luck was not on our side and I didn't anticipate the bellicose bunch of squirrels who are constantly making war with me and my garden. To make matters worse, I planted almost everything in what-was-then (April) the sunniest part of the garden, but what-is-now the shadiest part of the garden (July). So unfortunately everything except for a few tomatoes and some basil is pretty much dead. Yup, my own personal crop failure. (But I will carry on...)


I already know what went wrong. I planted things too quickly. I rushed to get things into the ground. I didn't do my research. And I should have calculated the risk of having hungry squirrels and little boys on the premises. But live and learn, as they say...








There are billy goats, chickens, turkeys, a pot bellied pig and a donkey on the grounds. This had me thinking about how great it would be to have a chicken coop in our backyard. But then I thought about our neighbors who live in the old carriage house behind our home, and maybe they wouldn't be so keen on the noise and such. So we will have take a wait and see approach...




I think there's a nice take-away from the farm that benefits both me and my children: work hard, stay the course, and when things head south remain hopeful and always (try to) have a smile on your face. That's what I saw at Berry Patch. 


When we got back to Denver (which is about 25 minute away), I was craving cheesecake, which does happen from time-to-time (okay, more often than not). This cherry compote took just a few minutes to make and it went right on top of my upstate cheesecake. There are very few pairings that I like more than this one...(but this one comes close).
Happy day, now go hug a farmer.
xo,
Batya
***
Cherry Compote (by Smitten Kitchen adapted from the now-defunct (weep, weep) Gourmet Magazine)
Ingredients
10 ounces sweet or sour cherries, pitted
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1/2 cup water
Making the cherry topping: Place all ingredients together in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil. Once it is boiling, cook it for an additional one to two minutes then remove from heat. Cool completely.
Spread topping over chilled cheesecake.

***
cherry recipes from across the interwebs:
cherry, arugula and quinoa salad by cookie + kate
cherry pie by lottie + doof
red fruit salad by heidi swanson of 101cookbooks

rose lemon sorbet + a bit of honesty


I've been thinking a lot about the honesty of photography. Maybe it's because I'm up to my eyeballs in 3 year old temper tantrums,  but I'm becoming suspicious. Things are looking too perfect out there... 

The other day I found myself reading a blog post authored by a woman who focuses on fashion, child rearing and life in the big city. The images were beautiful, everyone was in line, but in the back of my head I was thinking, "Oh for the love of God...how on Earth is her life so perfect? She has kids!" (You should note that my children are the greatest joys of my life and I'm still amazed that I have the privilege of raising two little humans. But it is hard work. Very hard work.) I started combing through her posts and there wasn't a single mention of any tantrums or bad behavior, no embarrassing moments that had her turning red, and never a mention of the toll children can take on your marriage if you don't nurture it and adapt to the new challenges as they come. That's when I realized that this blogger was either an alien, won the kid jackpot, or more likely, chooses to tell only half of the story (which is fine, it is her blog after all). 

Now I'm all for keeping things positive and focusing on the glass being half full and all that, but I think that as a mother-- one who is struggling a bit right now-- I've started gravitating toward writers who have a far more honest approach to life. It is more valuable for me to hear about the trials and tribulations that come with parenthood (give me something!) then to pretend that everything is picture perfect all the time.

I love to capture Otis and Theo squealing with delight as they splash in the water and have fun. And from the images in this post, the afternoon looks great. But a more accurate depiction of the day should include- at the very least- a sentence on how frustruating the two, very public, temper tantrums were right before these pictures were taken. They tested my inner strength. The elongated meltdowns would have caused a woman with the patience of Mother Theresa running for the hills. There are moments of extreme joy and wonderful tenderness. But there are also challenges and frustrations. So please know that even if I choose to capture the joyful moments, that is probably only part of the story. At least until the boys are out of their "threenage" years... 
I am now soliciting advice :)
xo, Batya


* * * 
Though we weren't able to pick fresh strawberries, we did pick up some rose petals from the Hoot N Howl farm stand, which came with this recipe (below) for rose lemon sorbet.
Notes on the sorbet: It was a total palette cleanser that also made my fridge smell amazing! The petals had a gorgeous color, which turned paler and paler the longer they soaked in the water. The water, which became dull and a little bit brownish towards the end of the process, turned bright pink once the lemon juice was added. Otis and Theo got a real kick out of that little experiment! The taste of actual rose water was really muted, but it looked very, very pretty. And it cooled us down. Next time I might add more rose petals, or top with chopped pistachios. 

Rose Lemon Sorbet (Adapted from The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz by Hoot N Howl Farm in Boulder, Colorado)
Ingredients:
2 cups rose water (see below)
1/2 cup water
1 1/4 cups of sugar (1 cup for a more tangy sorbet)
2 lemons
1 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (from about 6 lemons)
1 tablespoon vodka or limoncello (optional)
Preparation:
In a medium, non-reactive saucepan, combine 1/2 cup of the water and the sugar. 
Grate the zest of the 2 lemons directly into the saucepan.
Heat, stirring frequently, until the sugar is completely dissolved.
Remove from the heat and add the 2 cups of rose water. Chill the mixture in the refrigerator. 
Stir the lemon juice into the rose water syrup. Add the vodka or limoncello if you're using it. Freeze the mixture in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturers instructions. (It took me 25 minutes in the ice cream maker, and then I transferred the sorbet to an ice cream container and kept it in the freezer for 4 hours before serving.)

Rose Water:
Ingredients:
2 cups water
1 cup rose petals

Bring 2 cups of water to a boil in a saucepan. Turn off heat. Stir in the rose petals and cool to room temperature. Strain and press on rose petals to expel excess water. 


Home Sweet Home (with Giada's Almond Citrus Olive Oil Cake)


If I've done my math correctly, I sold my home in New Orleans about 2,892 days ago. Since then, and for the better part of a decade, we hopped from place to place. At last count, Omar (our trusty Rottweiler) had lived in 8 places and Otis has had 4 addresses since his birth...and he's only 3 1/2. Nomads, vagabonds, drifters. No, we were renters. Not that there's anything wrong with that. But I longed for a place to call my own, a place where I could plant perennials and actually see them bloom the following year. A place where I could put up shelves, frames and anchor a mirror. I wanted a home.
When my 6-year stint in New Orleans came to an end, I moved back to my parent's home in the Riverdale section of New York City. After two months of sleeping in my childhood bed, my then-boyfriend (now-husband) and I moved to Carroll Street in Park Slope, Brooklyn. The apartment was fine, despite being a bit run down. It was well-lit and spacious by New York standards (just under 600 square feet). But then construction started on the lot next door and it was time to move. No one likes waking up to what feels like a seismic occurrence and our walls began to crack. Omar was also a nervous wreck...or was that me?

Next we rented an apartment in a turn-of-the-century Brownstone. That's where Otis spent his first year of life. We lived in Prospect Heights on a beautiful tree-lined street that was quintessential Brooklyn. But we were outgrowing the space, Omar could no longer take the stairs, and then I found out I was pregnant with Theodore. On the move again.
Our fourth space was a remodeled apartment that was about 625 square feet. Cramped yes, but it felt clean and relatively safe. Then the beeping started. Unfortunately we signed a lease for an apartment directly across from a bread factory that operated around the clock, yes 24-hours. There were beeps and honks from machinery of all sorts, fork-lifts, 18-wheelers, garbage trucks at 2 a.m.-- nothing but noise and pollution. It was a total disaster. And that's what tipped the scales for us: we'd had enough and we moved west...to Colorado.
With Otis, Theo (who was 6 weeks old at the time), and Omar, we rented a lovely, albeit quirky, home in the Highlands section of Denver. Unfortunately for us, after a year of renting, it went on the market and sold within a few days. The home was slated for demolition, so we got a 6 month rental on the edge of Denver's city line. It was a generic townhouse that could have been in anywhere-U.S.A and there was no walkability to speak of, but it served its purpose.
Then it was time to take the plunge; it was time to do some serious house hunting. 
Have you ever read 'The Hunt' in the Real Estate section of The New York Times? It was kind of like that. 
No. 1: A beautiful, old Victorian in Congress Park, a neighborhood we were pretty much set on living in. But after an investigation turned up liens and judgements against the property, we walked. 
No. 2: A bid was submitted on a 1920s stunner in Park Hill, but systemic foundation issues surfaced after our structural engineer did the inspection. We wanted it fixed one way, but the sellers weren't interested. Our inspection objections were rejected, so that house was done. Back to Congress Park. 
No. 3: Our home! We fell in love with an old, historic home built in 1895, the year Grover Cleveland was President. We closed in March...

Writing this post means that we're settled, that we're anchored, that we've bought a home. I have a long-standing tradition of bringing olive oil cakes to house warming parties, and here I am making an olive oil cake for our family...in our very own house. It's been a long, long (long) road.
Happy baking! 
xo
Batya


Giada's Almond Citrus Olive Oil Cake (Adapted slightly from this recipe)
Ingredients
Cake:
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder (to compensate for altitude I added 1 3/4 teaspoons)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
3 large eggs
2 teaspoons orange zest
2 teaspoons lemon zest
1/4 cup whole milk, plus 1 tablespoon for altitude
3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2/3 cup sliced almonds, toasted, finely chopped (original recipe suggests coarsley crumbled)
Powdered sugar, for sifting



Citrus Compote:
2 tablespoons grated orange peel
3/4-1 teaspoon orange blossom water, optional though I'd use it.
3 oranges, segmented
2 pink grapefruits, segmented

Directions
To make the cake: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly oil an 8-inch-diameter cake pan. Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl to blend. Using an electric mixer, beat the sugar, eggs, and zests in a large bowl until pale and fluffy. Beat in the milk. Gradually beat in the oil. Add the flour mixture and stir just until blended. Stir in the almonds. Transfer the batter to the prepared pan. Place cake pan on baking pan to collect any possible spills. Bake until a tester inserted into the center of the cake comes out with moist crumbs attached, about 35 minutes. Transfer to a rack and cool for 15 minutes. Remove cake and place on serving platter, top side up. Sift powdered sugar over the cake.

To make the citrus compote: Stir the orange peel, blossom water, and 2 tablespoons of accumulated juices from the segmented fruit in a small bowl to blend. Arrange the orange and grapefruit segments decoratively in a wide shallow bowl. Pour the blossom water mixture over. Cover and let stand 15 minutes for the flavors to blend.

You can cut the cake into wedges and spoon the citrus compote alongside or place the compote on top and slice.