Scout’s Honor

Shredded coconut bums me out. Sweetened or not; long strands or short sprinkles; flat flakes or coarse grounds; I cringe inwardly every time that distinctive ingredient pops up in a recipe. I love coconut in general, but the moment as you deprive it of moisture and distill it down to only its most fibrous components, you’ve lost me as a fan. As a result, shredded coconut tends to sit around in my freezer for unconscionable amounts of time. After fulfilling its duty for whatever assignment it was called for, I have no inclination to consume it myself. That’s why I’m thrilled to pack it up in a caramel tart and pawn it off on others.

Coconut Head

The beloved girl scout samoa cookie inspired this supersized snack, employing a simple shortbread crust topped with that cursed coconut filling, finished with a liberal drizzle of dark chocolate. Quick, uncomplicated, and straight to the point, there’s no better way I can think of to use up a full 3 cups of shredded coconut in one go.

Worthy of a Baking Merit Badge

Samoas, not to be confused with Indian samosas, sometimes go by the name of Caramel deLites, depending on which troops do the baking. First being offered on the girl scout menu in 1975, the only explanation for the original name is that it likely aligns with the island of Samoa, where coconut is one of its major exports. Seems a bit random to me, given all the possible sources for coconut products, but I wasn’t the one who chose the title.

Lightly toasted and wrapped up in a gooey yet sliceable brown sugar substrate, resting just beneath a thin veneer of chocolate and comfortably nested on top of a crisp, slightly crumbly crust, shredded coconut is utterly transformed. My surplus was immediately plundered, as slice after slice hit plates, then to-go containers for seconds and midnight snacks.

Did this finally change my tune on the desiccated dread? Absolutely not. I’m just happy to find a compelling approach for using it up and sharing with others. To each their own, although better together; coconut lovers are welcome here to eat all of it for me.

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Run Down Runaround

Walking into Philip Gelb‘s underground restaurant, you never know quite what to expect for dinner, no matter how carefully you study the menu in advance. It’s been many months now since I had the luxury of that fully immersive, in-person experience, but there are some moments indelibly imprinted in my memory.

It was a taste unlike any other I had encountered before, being shamefully uneducated on the entire Caribbean culinary canon in general. Leading with heady aromatics, simultaneously fiery hot yet creamy and soothing, it’s both familiar and entirely foreign. Tender vegetables enveloped in a voluptuous broth, almost thick enough to qualify as custard, smoldered quietly in deep earthen bowls. Dissecting the fundamental building blocks, the spices didn’t appear particularly exotic, nothing terribly esoteric; the combination of seemingly discordant elements, mixed with a generous pinch of technique, is where the true magic happens.

Run down stew is a staple of Jamaican cuisine, typically made with seafood, but no two cooks make it quite the same way. Coconut milk is the only constant, utterly irreplaceable component. Long simmered over low heat, the rich broth reduces to concentrate the flavor, thicken to a velvety consistency, and take on a subtly toasted, nutty aroma. Flavor like that doesn’t come out of a can; time and patience are really the most important ingredients here.

The genesis of the name is a bit murky, some attributing it to the way it’s cooked down and some of the more delicate vegetables fall apart. Personally, I’d like to believe that it comes from the ability to revive anyone who’s feeling a bit run down themselves. Forget about watery chicken soup; this stuff can truly soothe the soul.

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Pot of Gold

Tell the truth: How many times have you purchased a new product based largely on the container it came in? There’s no judgement here since it’s a marketing ploy I’ve fallen prey to more often than any reasonable shopper should, and I have shelves full of various empty jars to prove it. Insidious yet obviously effective, product packaging is a considerable factor for success in businesses both big and small. It conveys quality, makes a brand memorable, bolsters its presence on the shelf by setting it apart from the pack. For many years, that’s precisely why I knew about Petit Pot, enviously eyeing those shapely glass bottles stacked high in refrigerated cases. I know, you should never judge a book by its cover, but I had nothing else to go on since all of the luxuriously decadent contents were all dairy-based. Until now.

In a radical departure from the original line of French pot de creme offerings, the brand new Riz au Lait Coco is their very first non-dairy and fully vegan treat on offer.

Loosely set, erring much more on the side of a lightly thickened sauce than rich custard, this very quality lends it a deceptively light texture on the palate. For such a heavy, typically fatty main ingredient, this is both a marvel and a rarity. Tender grains of rice swim in a pool of coconut milk, accompanied only by a hint of cane sugar and salt. Dainty, unexpectedly delicate, the thinner texture creates a delightfully refreshing overall experience.

Coconut-forward but not aggressively so, each spoonful bears a lightly toasted tropical flavor but keeps things very simple. Perfectly fitting the definition of comfort food, there are no challenging flavors or surprises concealed in these attractive little containers. What you see is what you get, delivering on the high quality such packaging has always conveyed. Serve them absolutely chilled, straight out of the fridge and unadorned, for an ideal summer snack or dessert.

Locally made in San Francisco and sadly limited in availability nationwide, I’d like to think that this is just the start for a blossoming young company. After all, there’s clearly ample demand for more non-dairy desserts; the proof is in the pudding.

Mac Daddy

Passover has mercifully passed on by without incident, the week without leavened bread already a distant memory. Jumping right back into the typical glutenous routine as quickly as pizza crust can crisp and brown back to life, the cupboards miraculously refill with wheated treats, and boards of matzo just as suddenly disappear. Still, its influence lingers, the drive to create kosher eats still strong and the inspiration of past successes just as compelling.

One of my strongest food associations with the holiday, right after matzo ball soup, of course, is coconut macaroons. Sad to say, it’s a regrettable negative mental link, once correlated to the stale, mummified nuggets found at the bottom of an ancient tin can, likely the very same guest invited to a decade of celebrations. Sinewy, overly sweetened strings of processed coconut were woven throughout, like sugary balls of yarn, obliterating any genuine flavor, natural or otherwise.

It needn’t be this way. Coconut macaroons are effortless to make from scratch, suitable for all diets and palates, but many prepared options exist that can deftly carry the torch, too. Coco-Roons first hit the market years ago with a modest selection of standard flavors. Since then, the family has expanded to include more innovative offerings.

Chocolate and vanilla, the mandatory classics, are presented with a bit more flare as Brownie and Vanilla Maple. While such fanciful monikers may be a bit more hype than truth, there’s no arguing that these macaroons are far and away a huge upgrade over the sad leaden lumps that haunt my childhood memories. Vanilla Maple tastes surprisingly more of rum than maple; subtle, unexpected alcoholic notes play among the tropical coconut flavor, surprising but not unwelcome. Brownie offers adds a nicely rounded, robust cocoa taste to the mix, although I wouldn’t go so far as to say that it’s equivalent to a decadent fudgy square. For some slightly more avant-garde options, Salted Caramel is a standout, dazzling with warm, toasted notes, heightened by that extra bit of seasoning. Lemon Pie does indeed bear an impressively creamy, custard-like lemon flavor; bright but not tangy, it falls firmly into the sweet camp, rather than sour.

More importantly than the individual flavors though, each tiny morsel is moist, soft, and sweet. Very fresh, full coconut flavor, they employ short strands of flaked coconut to create a more pleasing texture, while still remaining relatively faithful to the original script. Traditionalists would undoubtedly enjoy the modern upgrade, and the fact that they happen to be gluten-free, vegan, and raw are just added bonuses.

Layered in Sweet History

Towering stacks of gossamer-thin pastry, impossibly crisp and glistening with sticky syrup gleam from within bakery cases across the globe. Though typically full to bursting with crisp walnuts and warm spices, baklava is no stranger to alternative approaches. Considering the fact that it’s been at the mercy of creative bakers for centuries, this well-loved treat has managed to maintain its core identity far better than most, thanks in no small part to its sheer simplicity.

All you need is phyllo dough and a bit of patience to bring any dessert-lover to their knees. Swapping in pistachios for the filling is my favorite twist, inspired by my dad’s equal distaste for walnuts and love for pistachios, but this is a new rendition that he can endorse as well. Toasted coconut adds tropical flare without venturing too far into the dangerous waters of “fusion” cuisine. Sweet cinnamon and floral syrup closely reminiscent of honey bring familiar flavors back into the fold, sure to satisfy traditionalist and more adventurous eaters alike.

Yield: Makes 24 Triangles

Coconut Baklava

Coconut Baklava

Upgrade the standard flaky phyllo pastry by swapping in toasted coconut to add tropical flare. Sweet cinnamon and floral syrup closely reminiscent of honey bring familiar flavors back into the fold, sure to satisfy traditionalist and more adventurous eaters alike.

Prep Time 30 minutes
Cook Time 1 hour 20 minutes
Additional Time 1 hour
Total Time 2 hours 50 minutes

Ingredients

Floral Syrup:

  • 1 Cup Water
  • 1 1/2 Cups Granulated Sugar
  • 2 Tablespoons Lemon Juice
  • 1/2 Teaspoon Orange Blossom or Rose Water
  • 1/2 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract

Coconut Filling:

  • 4 Cups Shredded, Unsweetened Coconut, Toasted
  • 3/4 Cup Raw Cashew Pieces, Roughly Chopped
  • 1/2 Cup Coconut Sugar or Turbinado Sugar
  • 1 Teaspoon Ground Cinnamon
  • 1/2 Teaspoon Salt
  • For Assembly:
  • 1 (1-Pound) Box Frozen Phyllo Dough, Thawed
  • 1/2 Cup Coconut Oil, Melted

Instructions

  1. Make sure that your phyllo dough is completely before beginning. Keep it covered with a lightly moistened kitchen towel to prevent it from drying out.
  2. Preheat your oven to 300 degrees and lightly grease a 9 x 13 inch baking pan.
  3. Prepare the syrup first so it has time to cool. This can also be made well in advance, as it will keep almost indefinitely in an airtight container. Simply combine all of the ingredients in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Cook just until the sugar has fully dissolved; set aside.
  4. Moving on to the filling, briefly pulse the coconut and cashews in your blender or food processor to achieve a coarse grind while still allowing the mixture to remain very rough and chunky. Transfer to a large bowl and mix with the sugar, cinnamon, and salt.
  5. Cut (or tear) the phyllo so that it will fit into the bottom of your prepared baking pan. It is okay if the pieces overlap a little. Begin by laying down one sheet and brushing the pastry with melted coconut oil. Add another sheet of phyllo once the first is lightly but thoroughly coated. Brush the second sheet with coconut oil. Repeat these steps up to 4 times to create a phyllo layer; the exact number is up to you.
  6. After applying the coconut oil to the last sheet in your first phyllo layer, sprinkle it evenly with the nut mixture. Repeat the entire process to create a second layer of phyllo, followed by another layer of the nuts. Continue this pattern until you run out of the dry ingredients, ending with layers of pastry on top.
  7. Before placing the baklava in the oven, pre-cut the little triangles, or, if you are not feeling so handy with a knife, little squares are just fine. Bake for 70 to 80 minutes, until golden brown and slightly crispy-looking, but watch to make sure that the edges do not burn. Cover the pan with foil to prevent overcooking, if needed.
  8. Pour the warm syrup all over over the baked pastry. It may look excessive, but it will all soak in over time. Allow the baklava to cool for at least an hour or two before slicing and serving.

Recommended Products

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Nutrition Information:

Yield:

24

Serving Size:

1

Amount Per Serving: Calories: 231Total Fat: 15gSaturated Fat: 12gTrans Fat: 0gUnsaturated Fat: 2gCholesterol: 0mgSodium: 57mgCarbohydrates: 22gFiber: 3gSugar: 18gProtein: 2g

All nutritional information presented within this site are intended for informational purposes only. I am not a certified nutritionist and any nutritional information on BitterSweetBlog.com should only be used as a general guideline. This information is provided as a courtesy and there is no guarantee that the information will be completely accurate. Even though I try to provide accurate nutritional information to the best of my ability, these figures should still be considered estimations.

 

Coconuts Get Cultured

“Plain” is almost never a compliment, nor a desirable description. The word evokes a certain homeliness, blandness, a lack of zeal or zest. Even worse than “basic,” which suggests a comforting familiarity, there’s little to say in defense of plainness.

Applied to yogurt, however, “plain” is the holy grail, the standard by which all cultured non-dairy products are to be held, and so few make the cut. Rare is the company that will even venture to offer such a demanding flavor in the first place. Without added fruits or flavors for embellishment, there’s nowhere to hide a lackluster base, marred with unpleasant sour notes or strange aftertastes. What’s even more elusive is a blank slate without sweeteners, making savory applications all but impossible. Despite the abundance of new vegan options on the market now, you still have to plan on making your own or finding a suitable substitution. If you happen to live in the bay area, however, you now have another option: Yoconut.

Yoconut is a small but rapidly growing startup created by self-described foodie Bonnie Lau. If you voted in the recent Veggie Awards, you may have noticed this brand on the ballot, right alongside industry giants like Silk and So Delicious. That alone should say volumes about the product- Not yet distributed in mainstream markets, but already competing with the big shots. What sets Yoconut apart is its focus on quality, which is immediately apparent from a cursory glance at the label. No weird gums, no preservatives, no sugar at all; just smooth and creamy coconut, plain and simple. The Original is a cook’s dream, able to blend seamlessly with dips and dressings of all stripes, finally giving “plain” a good name.

Granted, what most eaters will want to know about are the flavored varieties, and I’ll have you know that they’re held to those very same high standards. Vanilla simply shimmers with seeds from the whole bean, without any syrup sweetness to diminish from its glory. Chocolate is admittedly still under development, but the latest rendition I sampled was a revelation; nothing like the pudding I had come to expect from such a title, but a legitimate cocoa-tinted cultured snack. Nothing else on the market comes close to this sort of highly sophisticated approach, and I for one hope the final formula doesn’t stray too far from this exquisite initial taste.

Right now your best bet for scoring a few of these precious containers is directly from Bonnie herself, at the Fort Mason Farmers Market held every Sunday from 9:30am to 1:30pm. Keep a close eye on local grocery store shelves though, because I have a feeling it won’t be long before this small business strikes out in a big way.