A short bake in a very hot oven sets the sides and top like cake while the center stays as melted chocolate that runs out at the first spoonful. Since the cakes are turned out onto the plate, the ramekins are buttered and coated with cocoa with no gaps. The batter can wait in the ramekins in the fridge; baked straight from cold, it needs 1 or 2 minutes more.
Juice from strawberries, blueberries, and banana runs between the small curds of cottage cheese, and each spoonful carries a mild saltiness and fruit sweetness together. There is no dressing, only a thin line of honey, and without the honey all the sweetness comes from the fruit. Pat the rinsed blueberries dry before they go on, or the cheese turns watery.
A spoon breaking through the thin, set crust finds hot chocolate cream underneath that is still half liquid. The table and any vanilla ice cream should be ready before the ramekins enter the oven, since it starts to sink almost as soon as it comes out. The butter and sugar lining gives the batter something to climb, and without it the rise tilts or splits.
Only a small amount of brown sugar is rolled into each thin wheat crepe, so the toasted wrapper comes through before the sweetness. Scattered widely, the sugar melts and leaks out the sides, which is why it goes down in one thin line. Eat them while they are still warm.
Hollow choux shells filled with cold vanilla cream start as a paste cooked in the saucepan, and in the oven the water in that dough turns to steam and inflates each mound. The shells must be completely cool before filling, or the cream melts. A fresh one gives a crisp crack and then cold custard, but moisture from the cream gradually softens the pastry. Fill them close to serving, or refrigerate filled puffs and eat them within two to three hours.
Juak trace back to Gaeseong in the Goryeo period and still appear on Korean wedding tables. Small rounds of glutinous rice dough, each pressed with a thumb to leave a dip in the middle, cook through at 150 degrees before the oil goes up to 170 for a light brown color, then roll in warm honey and rice syrup for a glossy coat.
Rolled, split and twisted, the loaf shows a dark cinnamon swirl in every slice against a pale, buttery crumb. Rich with butter and eggs, the dough eats closer to brioche than to sandwich bread and pulls apart in soft layers. Babka comes from Eastern European Jewish baking and sits as easily on a breakfast table as on a dessert plate.
Puffed rice bound with jocheong (Korean rice syrup) feels hard when you press it, then breaks cleanly when you bite. The syrup is not very sweet, so the toasty rice, nuts and sesame come through. Humidity softens it quickly; keep it in an airtight container.
Swedish kanelbulle go lighter on sugar and add cardamom; American rolls are coiled thicker and covered in glaze. This one sits on the American side, with a cream cheese glaze spread on while the rolls are still warm. In the oven the sugar melts between the coils and turns sticky, and the soft bread unwinds by hand along the spiral.
Brown sugar water turns this steamed cake dark all the way through, and toasted black sesame covers the top. With baking powder instead of a slow rise, farm households in Miyagi could steam one quickly as a snack for children or a break during field work. One explanation says the dark, fluffy cake reminded people of wild-goose meat, and the brown version is also called kuro-ganzuki.
From the Limousin region of France, this dessert starts with a batter much thinner than pancake batter, poured over cherries and baked into something closer to soft custard than cake. The edges puff and brown while the fruit leaves pockets of juice around it. Made with plums, apricots, or blueberries instead of cherries, it goes by another name, flaugnarde.
There is no custard to cook here: finely ground pistachios are blended into cold milk, cream, and sugar, chilled, and poured straight into the machine. Buy shelled, unsalted pistachios; a sweet pistachio spread brings its own sugar and other fats and cannot stand in at the same weight. Freezing the machine bowl ahead takes time of its own, on top of the listed prep.
Split warm by hand, these scones have a crisp golden top and a soft interior that crumbles rather than chews, ready for clotted cream and strawberry jam. Cold butter rubbed into the flour is what keeps them light; the more the dough is handled, the firmer the centers turn.
Big chunks of sweet potato are fried until fluffy inside and tossed in a sugar and corn syrup glaze with a little soy sauce, which leaves a faint saltiness after the sweetness. The potatoes go in when the syrup throws up large bubbles and are coated within 30 seconds, which means timing the frying to finish just as the syrup is ready.
A buttery shortbread base, baked once on its own, goes back into the oven under a layer of lemon curd, so each bite has butter and sharp lemon together. The curd uses both juice and zest, and the oils in the zest give a stronger aroma than juice alone would. A dusting of powdered sugar stands out white against the yellow.
Dried persimmons are split along one side, opened flat, and rolled around cream cheese mixed with honey and lemon juice, plus coarsely chopped walnuts. After 20 minutes wrapped in the fridge, each slice shows a round of white cream and walnut inside the chewy fruit. If the persimmons have dried hard, five minutes in a damp paper towel keeps them from tearing as they are opened.
Cut a slice and the layers read clearly: golden crust, cream-colored custard, white whipped cream, and a scatter of toasted coconut that adds crunch. Cooked from coconut milk and regular milk, the custard has a clear coconut flavor and, once chilled, holds firm on a fork.
Strained Greek yogurt is thick enough to hold banana, kiwi, and blueberries on top without spreading. Granola starts absorbing moisture the moment it touches the yogurt and goes on just before eating, while the chia seeds, given five minutes, swell into springy beads of gel.
There is no flour in these. Shredded coconut is held together with condensed milk and egg white, and the mixture is so sticky that the pan is lined right to its edges with parchment or a silicone mat. Once cool, the bottoms are sometimes dipped in melted dark chocolate.
These plain glutinous rice balls have no filling: half are rolled in pale roasted soybean powder and half in black sesame powder, with honey on the side for dipping. The dough calls for dry-milled glutinous rice flour. Wet-milled flour or regular rice flour will not take the same amount of water, and the chew changes too.
Despite the name, there is no coffee in the batter, and the cake is simply meant to be eaten alongside a cup. Sour cream gives the crumb more moisture than a plain butter cake. Cinnamon streusel is added twice, once in the middle and once on top, so each slice shows two spiced stripes and a sandy, crunchy crust. Warm from the oven is when the cinnamon smells strongest.
A little glutinous rice flour mixed into the plain rice flour gives this mild steamed cake a slight chew. Cinnamon goes into only half the flour, and the white and brown layers are spread alternately and never pressed down. Cut, the side shows stripe after stripe.
Strips of puff pastry wound around a cone mold bake into a hollow spiral horn, which is then piped full of whipped cream folded into cream cheese. The thawed pastry stays cold and is cut into strips without rolling or stretching it, which protects the flaky layers. Sugar pressed onto the surface bakes into a crisp coating, and each bite brings the open layers and the cold cream together.
Tangerine peel simmered over low heat until translucent ends up chewy and springy, close to a soft jelly. Two blanchings in salted water take away some bitterness beforehand, but the white pith is not trimmed off completely, since stripping it all weakens the citrus aroma.