Table of Contents: From Breakfast With Anita Diamant to Dessert With James Patterson - a Generous Helping of Recipes, Writings and Insights From Today's Bestselling Authors (16 page)

My grandmother made the best cream puffs. In fact, she won $25 from
Parade Magazine
in 1969 for her recipe. Someone in my family makes her cream puffs for every holiday, and we still fight over who gets the last one.

Note:
These will keep if made in the morning and served later in the day, but they become soggy after a day or two in the fridge.

One stick of butter may be substituted for the shortening.

If you're pressed for time, you can make a quick version of the filling. Cook 1 box of vanilla pudding (not instant; with whole milk), and let cool in the refrigerator. Add 1 teaspoon of vanilla to 1 cup of heavy cream, and beat until thick. Fold cream into pudding. Done!

1
Preheat oven to 425°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

2 To make the puffs:
Combine flour and salt in a small bowl. Place shortening and water in a medium saucepan, and bring to a boil. Add flour mixture all at once and stir vigorously until mixture balls up and becomes quite dry. Remove from heat.

3
Transfer mixture to medium bowl of electric mixer. Add eggs one at a time and beat at high speed until mixture becomes a smooth paste.

4
Drop batter by tablespoonful on baking sheets, placing 2 inches apart. Bake for 15 minutes, then reduce heat to 375°F and bake for an additional 15 minutes. Do not open the oven during cooking, except during final minutes if needed to check on puffs. Puffs are done when they are well browned, and moisture can no longer be seen on the tops. Transfer puffs to wire rack to cool.

5 To make the custard filling:
Sift together sugar, cake flour, and salt. In medium saucepan, heat milk over medium heat. Whisk flour mixture into warm milk and heat, stirring, until thick and bubbly, about 3 minutes. Remove from heat.

6
In a separate medium bowl of an electric mixer, beat eggs until frothy. Add milk mixture to eggs, and mix well. Return mixture to saucepan and cook over medium heat for 3 minutes.

7
Remove from heat and transfer mixture to clean bowl. Whisk in vanilla. Rub butter on piece of plastic wrap and place wrap butter side down on top of the custard (to prevent a skin from forming). Chill thoroughly in refrigerator.

8
In separate bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat cream on high speed until thick. Fold whipped cream into custard.

9
To assemble the cream puffs: Use a serrated knife to slice the top third from each puff. Remove any excess “skin” from inside of puff. Fill with about 2 tablespoons of filling, until full but not overflowing, and replace top. (Any extra filling is wonderful on fresh fruit.) Sprinkle with confectioners' sugar if desired. Serve immediately (see note).

Dennis Cowley

SELECTED WOEKS

The Widower's Tale
(2010)

I See You Everywhere
(2008)

The Whole World Over
(2006)

Three Junes
(2002)

On My Characters
Every piece of fiction I write begins with a single character, one who generally occurs to me out of the blue so I'm never really sure where he or she came from. Of course, that character is always in a pickle of some kind. The trouble may come from inside or outside the character, but trouble there always must be. That's the genesis of the story. Other characters “sprout” from the first one — mates, children, parents, coworkers — and often I'm surprised which ones grow in importance. For instance,
The Whole World Over
began as a “he said, she said” tale about the marriage of Greenie Duquette and Alan Glazier. Two characters I created only as foils to this couple — Walter, the restaurateur for whom Greenie makes desserts; and Saga, the woman who's struggling with a damaged memory and who captivates Alan — loomed far larger than I originally intended. Basically, they stole my heart. That's what I love about forging ahead into the territory of a novel without a map in hand. Only when I've written several chapters do I begin to see where the journey may end.

Readers Should Know

The lion's share of writing fiction is, for me, the day-dreaming that takes place during the margins of my daily life: traffic jams, long lines at the post office, showers, walking the dog, idling through the produce aisle. That's when I make essential decisions about my characters' choices and relationships, about what accidents will befall them. I may go two or three weeks without getting any of these imaginings down on the page, but finding space for this interior process every day is crucial. You cannot write good fiction without spending significant time alone, marinating in your own thoughts, listening to those accidental inner voices, and nurturing the souls who populate your stories. You must be unreachable by phone, untethered by an iPod, and steeped in a private silence. Our culture is increasingly impoverished by a collective dependence on media gadgets and all electronic forms of communication that saturate our minds in facts, opinions, political prophecies, and the so-called news. We may be living in a golden age of invention, but that kind of creativity is not synonymous with, or a substitute for, imagination.

Readers Frequently Ask
People express amazement that I can so intimately portray people who seem so different from me — most notably, a gay Scottish man (Fenno, the central character in
Three Junes
). I explain that I always have a great deal in common with my main characters. Like Fenno, I adore books, I lived in Greenwich Village, and for much of my youth I was overly cautious when it came to taking emotional risks. Like Greenie Duquette, I love to immerse myself in making people happy by feeding them. At the time I wrote
The Whole World Over
, I also had a verbally precocious young son and lived in a very small apartment with makeshift sleeping quarters. That old chestnut “write what you know” goes only so far, however. Without setting challenges for oneself — stretching far to know what you want to know about human nature — the imagined world would quickly become predictable, the experience of writing myopic. In every new story, I take on at least one character or experience I'm initially doubtful I can pull off (but definitely want to). Take the make-believe governor of New Mexico in
The Whole World Over
; Clement Jardine's work with endangered grizzly bears in
I See You Everywhere
; and, in
The Widower's Tale
, an illegal Guatemalan immigrant who works as a gardener.

Influences on My Writing
Daniel Deronda
, the last novel by George Eliot (the pen name of Mary Anne Evans), made me realize I wanted to write fiction. I was in my late twenties then, working primarily as a painter (even though I was paying the rent with my editorial and writing skills). The heroine of that book, Gwendolen Harleth, remains my favorite character in all the literature I've read, primarily because she is utterly contemptible at the outset, and yet wins (and breaks) the reader's heart by the end of the story after she faces the complex consequences of her vain, foolish choices. I found the experience of this emotional transformation haunting and provocative. Yes, Eliot's language is gorgeous, her characters rich, and her plotting brilliant, but this novel's gift to me was a profound understanding of how great fiction exerts its power by instilling empathy. It teaches us viscerally, again and again through endlessly diverse stories, how to stand in the shoes of people we might otherwise ignore, dismiss, or condemn. It opens our eyes and hearts to worlds beyond our own. What can be more important than that?

Makes 8–10 servings

The heroine of my second novel,
The Whole World Over
, is Greenie Duquette, a pastry chef whose signature dessert is an elaborate coconut cake. It will come as no surprise to readers that I have a treacherously irrepressible sweet tooth, but sadly I rarely have time to make complicated desserts.

This chocolate cake is outrageously rich, pretty when garnished, and easy to make. (The sour flavor of the crème fraîche is essential; don't substitute whipped cream.)

Note:
I find that the surface of the cake cracks slightly, making the cake fragile, so I cool it in the pan on a rack. When ready to serve, I cut the pieces straight from the pan, then plate and garnish them in the kitchen.

1
Preheat oven to 350°F. Lightly butter and flour a 9″ round cake pan.

2
In a heavy medium saucepan, combine the butter and chocolate. Melt over low heat, stirring frequently, until smooth, about 4 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool slightly.

3
In a medium bowl, use an electric mixer and beat the eggs with the sugar at high speed until smooth, about 3 minutes. Add the flour and beat at low speed just until combined. Fold in 1/3 of the melted chocolate, then gently fold in the remaining chocolate; do not overmix.

4
Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 35 minutes, or until a tooth-pick stuck into the center comes out clean. Place the cake on a rack and let cool.

5
Meanwhile, in a saucepan, warm the cherry preserves over moderate heat. Cut the cake into wedges (see note) and serve with the cherry preserves and crème fraîche.

Makes 1 (10- or 11-inch) pie; 8–10 servings

Adapted from
The Cuisine of the Sun: Classical French Cooking from Nice and Provence
by Mireille Johnston (Fireside, 1990)

My first novel,
Three Junes
, features several meals lovingly prepared by chef Dennis McLeod, brother to Fenno. Though he's Scottish, Dennis is married to a Frenchwoman and owns a restaurant in Provence. Readers never get to visit the restaurant, but I'm certain Dennis would serve this unusual pie, a favorite of mine that always earns raves. It is a savory-sweet dish, a marriage of healthy and indulgent, and the perfect centerpiece for a brunch. It tastes good warm, cool, or even cold, so you can make it well ahead.

Note:
While the pastry should be made by hand, I use a food processor, taking care not to overmix.

1 To make the pastry:
Place all ingredients in the bowl of a food processor (see note). Pulse repeatedly only until coarsely blended. Turn the dough onto a large floured board and press away from you with the heel of your hand to complete the blending. Shape into a ball, cover with a clean cloth, and leave for 2 hours at room temperature.