Mexican Hot Chocolate

I've been having some trouble getting in the mood for Christmas this year.  I blame it on the fact that we keep hitting 80 degrees here in Texas.  That's enough to make a grinch out of anyone.  I mean, Christmas is supposed to be cold and snowy and a lot like England, right?  Part of my plan to get myself in the mood was to follow a list of activities.  Christmas activities.  Things like decorating and wrapping presents and listening to bad Christmas carol remakes.  But I also planned to make some real hot chocolate.

Mexican hot chocolate is like hot chocolate to the third power.  You've got your usual milk and chocolate.  But then you also have cinnamon.  And chili powder.  Yes, I said chili powder.  I got the little tabs of Mexican chocolate, and it said to use 4 cups of milk per tab.  Well, if you're a disgusting glutton like me, you scoff at such advice and use two.  Then you add a tab of chocolate, a shake of ground cinnamon, and a pinch of chili powder.  You whisk it up on the stove until it's steaming, and then pour it into a mug.  Top with a marshmallow.  Okay, to be honest, you top it with one marshmallow when people are looking and then pop two more on when their backs are turned.

Gourmet: Arroz con Pollo

I haven't been very cultural lately.  I blame it on Thanksgiving.  I should actually be more worried about the fact that I haven't been very Christmasy yet, but I blame that on the fact that it's 80 degrees out.  Yes, 80 degrees in DECEMBER.  I have a feeling I'm going to be a scrooge this year unless the temperature starts dropping.  But tonight I decided to make something that goes right along with the warm weather: a Cuban dish.  Very cultural.

Okay, so it's just chicken and rice.  At least let me pretend I'm being worldly.  I mean, the thing even has olives in it.  And saffron.  That's different, right?  And no, I did not use the recipe from Tastes Like Cuba where he calls for cream of mushroom soup.  Really.  See?  At least I went the extra step and used a recipe from Gourmet magazine.  You're welcome.

Arroz con Pollo
Adapted from Gourmet magazine

6 large garlic cloves, minced, divided
2 tablespoons fresh orange juice
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1½ teaspoons salt
¾ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 (3- to 4-pound) whole chicken, cut into 8 to 10 pieces
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 medium onions, chopped
2 green bell peppers, cut into 2-inch long strips
¼ teaspoon saffron threads, crumbled
¼ cup dry white wine
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
2 teaspoons salt
1 bay leaf
1 (15-ounce) can diced tomatoes, including juice
3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 cups long-grain white rice
1 cup frozen baby peas (not thawed)
½ cup small pimiento-stuffed green olives, rinsed
¼ cup drained chopped bottled pimientos, rinsed

Combine 3 minced garlic cloves, orange juice, lime juice, salt and pepper.  Pour over the chicken pieces in a large Ziploc bag.  Toss the chicken in the marinade and refrigerate for 1 hour, turning after half an hour.

Transfer the chicken to paper towels, reserving the marinade.  Pat the chicken pieces dry.  Heat the oil and butter in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat, then brown the chicken pieces in 2 or 3 batches, without crowding, turning occasionally, about 6 minutes per batch.  Transfer the browned chicken to a plate, reserving the fat in the pot.

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Saute the remaining 3 minced garlic cloves, onion, and green pepper in the fat from the chicken over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally and scraping up the brown bits from the chicken, until the vegetables are softened, about 6 to 8 minutes.

While the vegetables cook, heat the saffron in a dry small skillet over low heat, shaking the skillet, until fragrant, about 30 seconds.  Add the wine and bring to a simmer, then remove from the heat.

Add the cumin, smoked paprika, and salt to the vegetables and cook over medium-high heat, stirring, for another 2 minutes.  Stir in the saffron mixture, bay leaf, tomatoes (including juice), broth, and reserved marinade.  Bring to a boil.  Add all the chicken except for the breast pieces, skin side up, and simmer gently, covered, over low heat for 10 minutes.  Stir in the rice, then add the breast pieces, skin side up, and arrange the chicken in one layer.  Return to a simmer.

Cover the pot tightly, then transfer to the oven and bake for 20 minutes.  Remove the pot from the oven, and scatter the peas, olives, and pimientos over the rice and chicken (do not stir).  Return the pot to the oven for another 10 to 20 minutes, or until the rice has absorbed most of the liquid.  Discard the bay leaf and serve.

Makes 4 to 5 servings

Double Chocolate Cherry Walnut Bread

Sometimes you just need chocolate.  Sometimes you're sick of having laryngitis for three days and having to gesticulate to communicate at the grocery store.  Sometimes you just want to hide out in your apartment until your voice comes back and nurse yourself with something sinful.  My sometime is now.

When my mom gave me a bag of dried cherries, I of course did what every other obsessive compulsive cook does: I immediately started thinking of a way to use them.  I could have done a cherry sauce with pork, I guess, but I really wanted something sweet.  Something evil.  Something that would make me forget that I couldn't communicate with the world in general.  So I started digging up quick bread recipes, and after much fiddling and referring to the Ratios of Baking (thank you Michael Ruhlman), I came up with a halfway decent recipe.  Okay, it's better than halfway decent.  I had to stop myself from going into the kitchen and swiping slices.  You know, where you cut a tiny slice, and you tell yourself that's it, but then you're back 10 minutes later, cutting another tiny slice?  Busted.

Double Chocolate Cherry Walnut Bread

½ cup dried tart cherries

2 tablespoons kirschwasser

2 cups all-purpose flour

¼ cup unsweetened cocoa powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

½ cup mini chocolate chips

½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

1 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 large eggs

1 cup whole milk

½ cup chopped black walnuts (or regular walnuts)

Preheat the oven to 350°F.  Butter a 9x5-inch loaf pan.

In a small bowl, soak the dried cherries in kirschwasser for 20 minutes.  Chop the cherries and reserve the soaking liquid.  In a medium bowl, combine the flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.  Mix ½ cup of the flour mixture with the chocolate chips in a second small bowl.  Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream the butter and sugar.  Add the vanilla and mix well.  Mix in the eggs, one at a time, until combined.  Mix in ½ of the flour mixture, then the milk, then the remaining flour mixture.  With a rubber spatula, scrape the bowl, and then fold in the chocolate chips (coated in flour) and the walnuts.  Fold in the cherries and the soaking liquid.

Bake the loaf for 45 to 55 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Makes 1 loaf, about 12 servings

Friday Night Dinners: Blueberry Cobbler

I'm not a huge fan of blueberries.  This is because...okay, I'm just going to go there.  They remind me of peas.  Stick with me now.  They both have that tight little skin housing an incredibly squishy center, and when you bite down, all this goo explodes in your mouth.  It's a texture thing, okay?  But I'm okay with cooked blueberries, because then they're just mush.  And somehow that's not a texture issue.  I also get around my paranoia by getting wild blueberries, which are pretty tiny.  So the exploding goo factor is much smaller.

When I first saw the recipe for blueberry cobbler, I of course immediate recoiled.  Then I realized that the blueberries would cook down and form this luscious syrup under a buttermilk biscuit topping.  Which is very okay with me.  So I found a giant bag of frozen wild blueberries (Wyman's at Sprouts...who knew?) and went to town.  And it was everything I hoped it would be.  Sweet gooey blueberries with a tender cobbler topping and a slight crunchy top from the sugar.  Fabulous.

Blueberry Cobbler
From Friday Night Dinners by Bonnie Stern

8 cups fresh blueberries or 1 (3-pound) bag frozen wild blueberries (such as Wyman’s)

⅓ cup granulated sugar

½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

¾ cup granulated sugar

1 large egg

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1⅓ cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon cream of tartar

½ teaspoon salt

¾ cup buttermilk

2 tablespoons coarse sugar, such as demarara

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

In a large bowl, combine the blueberries, sugar, and cinnamon.  Spoon into an oiled 13x9-inch baking dish.

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar until light.  Beat in the egg and vanilla.

In a separate bowl, combine the flour, baking soda, cream of tartar, and salt.  Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture alternately with the buttermilk in three additions, ending with flour.

Spoon the batter on top of the blueberries (drop the batter from the spoon instead of spreading), leaving space around the edge so the fruit juices can bubble up.  Sprinkle with coarse sugar.

Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, or until the topping is cooked through and browned, and the fruit is juicy and bubbling on the sides.

Makes 8 servings

Martha Stewart: Roasted Cabbage Wedges

So many people hate cabbage.  And Brussels sprouts.  It's like a conspiracy, where I'm the only one outside of my immediate family who thinks it's delicious.  Wait, maybe it IS a conspiracy.  Well, it's one I'm not going to argue with, because that means more cabbage for ME.  Especially cabbage that is roasted until caramelized in the oven.  Which is only slightly less amazing than when cabbage is sauteed with bacon.  Because, repeat after me, everything is better with bacon.  But you should give this one a try, too.

Roasted Cabbage Wedges
From Martha Stewart

1 tablespoons plus 2 more tablespoons olive oil
1 medium head green cabbage, cut into 1-inch thick rounds
Coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon caraway seeds

Preheat the oven to 400°F.  Brush a rimmed baking sheet with 1 tablespoon of olive oil.  Place the rounds of cabbage in a single layer on the baking sheet and brush with the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil.  Season with salt and pepper and sprinkle with the caraway seeds.  Roast until the cabbage is tender and the edges are golden, 40 to 45 minutes.

Makes 4 to 6 servings

Sweet Pea's Kitchen: Pumpkin-Bourbon Cheesecake with Graham-Pecan Crust

Every Thanksgiving we have the same pumpkin pie.  And, don't get me wrong, it's good.  It's just...tired.  I have a notoriously short attention span, and pumpkin pie lost me a couple of years ago.  So did most of the rest of the dinner, but that's a bit easier to change up.  You take away pumpkin pie, and people get angry.  It's stepping on tradition.  It's spitting on the recipe passed down from your mother's mother's mother.  Okay, maybe not that far, but you see what I mean.  So this year I didn't stray far.  I stayed in the pumpkin pasture.  But I goosed it a little.  Okay, a lot.  But it's still pumpkin.

Cheesecakes are difficult to get right.  I'm talking about the cracks on top.  Yes, I mean the ones on the last cheesecake you made.  Okay, and the last cheesecake I made.  Caught me.  Anyway, any recipe that doesn't include instructions for a water bath should be looked upon with great suspicion.  So I did my darnedest to set one up.  Except I don't own a roasting pan.  Or anything close to being big enough to hold a 9-inch springform pan with lots of clearance.  So I improvised with my glass lasagne pan.  And hey, no cracks.  I did have a bit of a scare when water somehow sneakily leaked in between the foil and my springform pan, but luckily the $20 I spent on the pan was worth it.  And after waiting forever for it to cool down in the fridge, I had a piece of creamy pumpkiny goodness all to myself.  I thank my short attention span.

Pumpkin-Bourbon Cheesecake with Graham-Pecan Crust
Adapted from Sweet Pea's Kitchen blog

For the crust
3 ounces graham crackers (about 5 whole crackers), broken into large pieces
2 ounces pecans, chopped (about ½ cup)
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
½ teaspoon ground ginger
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

For the filling
1⅓ cups granulated sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground ginger
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon ground allspice
½ teaspoon salt
1 (15-ounce) can pumpkin puree
1½ pounds cream cheese, at room temperature
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
5 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup heavy cream
¼ cup bourbon

For the crust
Preheat the oven to 325°F.  Spray the bottom and sides of a 9-inch springform pan evenly with nonstick spray.

In the bowl of a food processor fitted with the metal blade, pulse the graham crackers, pecans, sugar, and spices until evenly and finely ground, about fifteen 2-second pulses.  Transfer to a medium bowl, drizzle melted butter over, and mix until evenly moistened.  Transfer the crumbs to the springform pan and press the crumbs evenly into the bottom and a ½ inch up the sides of the pan.  Bake until fragrant and browned about the edges, about 15 minutes.  Cool on a wire rack while making the filling.

For the filling
Bring about 4 quarts of water to a simmer in a stockpot for the water bath.  Whisk together the sugar, spices, and salt in a small bowl; set aside.

Line a baking sheet with a triple layer of paper towels.  Spread the pumpkin puree on the paper towels in an even layer.  Cover the pumpkin with a second triple layer of paper towels and press firmly until the paper towels are saturated.  Peel back the top layer of the paper towels and discard.  Grasp the bottom paper towels and fold the pumpkin in half; peel back the paper towels.  Repeat and flip the pumpkin onto the baking sheet; discard the paper towels.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the cream cheese on medium speed to break up and soften, about 1 minute.  Scrape the beater, bottom, and sides of bowl with a spatula.  Add about ⅓ of the sugar mixture and beat at medium-low speed until combined, about 1 minute; scrape the bowl and add the remaining sugar in two additions, scraping the bowl after each addition.  Add the pumpkin and vanilla and beat at medium speed until combined, about 45 seconds; scrape down bowl.  Add 3 eggs and beat at medium-low speed until incorporated, about 1 minute; scrape the bowl.  Add the remaining 2 eggs and beat at medium-low speed until incorporated, about 45 seconds; scrape the bowl.  Add the heavy cream and bourbon and beat at low speed until combined, about 45 seconds.  Using a rubber spatula, scrape the bottom and sides of the bowl and give a final stir by hand.

Set the springform pan with the cooled crust on an 18-inch square of double layer heavy-duty foil and wrap the bottom and sides; set the wrapped pan in a roasting pan.  Pour the filling into the springform pan and smooth the surface; set the roasting pan in the oven and pour enough boiling water into the roasting pan so that it comes halfway up the side of the springform pan.  Bake the cheesecake until the center of the cake is slightly wobbly when the pan is shaken, about 1½ hours.  Set the roasting pan on a wire rack and use a paring knife to loosen the cake from the sides of the pan.  Cool until the water is just warm, about 45 minutes.  Remove the springform pan from the water bath, discard the foil, and set the springform pan on the wire rack; continue to cool until barely warm, about 3 hours.  Wrap with plastic wrap and refrigerate until chilled, at least 4 hours.

Makes one 9-inch cheesecake, about 12 to 16 servings

Williams-Sonoma: Sausage, Corn Bread, and Chestnut Dressing

I didn't realize this, but apparently there are two warring factions when it comes to what is served next to the turkey at Thanksgiving: stuffing versus dressing.  Aren't they the same thing?  Oh, no, my friend they are not, as I was very quickly informed.  Apparently stuffing is made with crappy white bread and is only served by Yankees who don't know any better.  That would be me, since I was raised on Stove Top, which is...stuffing.  Then there's dressing, which is made with cornbread and is superior to any other form of side dish since it is lovingly made by someone's granny from a recipe passed down from before the Civil War.  Oh boy, was I in trouble.  I wisely kept my mouth shut during this altercation, but I nearly tripped myself in my rush to get to the computer and Google an appropriate dressing recipe so as not to offend the generations of Southern women who had come before me.

I had never made a stuffing or a dressing that I had liked because they all seem to turn out tasting like cardboard.  Those little bags of Pepperidge Farm stuffing cubes?  Yeah, tasteless, even with chicken broth poured over them and tossed with sauteed onions and celery.  Then I realized I was going about everything the wrong way.  I needed to follow my own advice.  The one that says everything tastes better with bacon (or sausage or ham).  If a pork product couldn't make dressing delicious, then it wasn't possible.  Well, it did make the dressing fabulous.  It also helped that at every turn I dumped as much seasoning into the darn thing as I could.  And I finally turned out a side dish I wouldn't be ashamed to set on the table next to the turkey.

Sausage, Corn Bread, and Chestnut Dressing
Adapted from Williams-Sonoma

8 cups cubed day-old corn bread (1-inch cubes)
2 cups cubed day-old country-style white bread, crusts removed (1-inch cubes)
1¼ pounds mild Italian pork sausage, casings removed
¼ pound hot Italian pork sausage, casings removed
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 yellow onion, finely chopped
1 celery stalk, finely chopped
3 ounces crimini mushrooms, sliced
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 cup roasted and peeled chestnuts, chopped
¼ cup chopped mixed fresh herbs, such as sage, rosemary, and thyme
¼ cup chopped parsley
3 cups turkey stock

Preheat an oven to 375°F.  Butter a 13x9-inch glass dish.

Spread the corn bread and white bread out on a baking sheet.  Toast in the oven until light golden brown and dry to the touch, about 20 minutes.  Set aside.

In a saute pan over medium heat, brown the sausage, stirring and crumbling, until cooked through, about 10 minutes.  Transfer to a large bowl.  Drain the grease from the pan.

Return the pan to medium heat.  Add the butter to the pan to melt.  Add the onion, celery, and mushrooms and saute, stirring occasionally, until the onion is soft and translucent, 5 to 7 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper.  Transfer to the bowl with the sausage.  Add the corn bread and white bread cubes, the chestnuts, herbs, and turkey stock.  Season with salt and pepper and stir gently to combine.

Transfer the dressing to the prepared dish, cover with aluminum foil, and bake for 40 minutes.  Remove the foil and continue baking until browned and crispy, about 35 minutes more.

Makes 10 to 12 servings

Alton Brown: Butterflied, Dry Brined Roasted Turkey

For years and years, I thought that turkey was supposed to be dry.  Dry and yucky.  It was the only part of Thanksgiving that I disliked.  I would load up on casseroles and vegetables and mashed potatoes, and then I would hide my turkey under something as I ate.  I have a feeling I am not the only person with this kind of story.  I mean, if roasting a chicken eludes most people, a turkey is three times as bad.  And we tried literally everything to get the thing to brown.  Until we finally gave up and sprinkled it with paprika one year.

So I finally turned to Alton Brown, a.k.a. the Holder of All Cooking Knowledge.  Okay, so maybe he doesn't deserve all those capital letters, but the man has saved me on more than one occasion.  A couple of years ago I made his wet-brined turkey, and it was good.  But THIS turkey is fantastic.  I know it seems weird leaving the thing in your fridge for four days as it slowly changes color and starts to look...weird.  But trust me.  It's normal.  Everything will be fine.  And yes, I had the same panic attack when I watched my overpriced organic turkey start to look, well, rotten, that first year.  Once it's cooked, the skin is crispy and brown and the meat is tender and perfect.

Butterflied, Dry Brined Roasted Turkey
Adapted from Alton Brown

3½ tablespoon kosher salt

1½ teaspoon rubbed sage

1½ teaspoons dried thyme

1¼ teaspoons whole black peppercorns

½ teaspoon whole allspice berries

1 (13- to 14-pound) turkey, neck and giblets removed

Four days before serving, place the salt, sage, thyme, black peppercorns, and allspice into a spice grinder and pulse until the peppercorns and allspice are coarsely ground, 5 to 6 pulses.  Set aside.

Set the turkey, breast side down, on a large cutting board with the tail closest to you.  Use an electric knife or heavy-duty kitchen shears to cut up one side of the backbone.  Turn the bird around and cut back down the other side of the spine.  Discard backbone and any fat pockets or excess skin found inside the turkey.  Turn the turkey breast side up and use the heel of your hands to press down on both breasts until you hear a cracking sound and the bird has flattened slightly.

Rub the seasoned salt on both sides of the turkey.  Place the turkey on a parchment paper lined half sheet pan, breast side up with legs running with the long side of the pan.  Store, uncovered, in the refrigerator for 4 days.

Remove the turkey from the refrigerator and leave at room temperature for 1 hour.

Place one rack in the middle of the oven and a second one far enough below so that the half sheet pan will fit.  Heat the oven to 425°F.

Place the turkey directly on the middle rack of the oven with the legs perpendicular to the metal bars of the rack.  Place the half sheet pan on the rack below the turkey to catch any drips, and roast for 30 minutes.

Reduce the heat to 350°F.  Continue to roast the turkey until a probe thermometer inserted into the thickest part of the breast registers 155°F., an additional 40 to 50 minutes.  Remove the turkey and sheet pan from the oven onto a cooling rack and set inside the half sheet pan and rest for 30 minutes.  Carve the turkey with an electric knife.

What Katie Ate: Thyme Roasted Baby Carrots

So it's Thanksgiving panic time again!  What a wonderful season.  I give thanks for having to spend three days in my kitchen, hoping new recipes don't turn out to be stinkers.  Luckily my new friend (at least in my head), the What Katie Ate blog, had a recipe for the tiny carrots I just couldn't resist buying in a last-minute fit of we-won't-have-enough-to-eat.  Hey, I fought people off for those carrots.  I wanted something good that would make me feel better about elbowing a granny.  Okay, so I didn't exactly elbow her.  I just used my superior strength and speed to snatch the last carrots.  Yes, I am that person.  I know I should be ashamed.

These carrots are so easy it's almost ridiculous, and they turn out roasty toasty good.  They kind of caramelize and sweeten and become all kinds of yummy.  And they were certainly my backup in case the stuffing failed.

Thyme Roasted Baby Carrots
From What Katie Ate blog

2 pounds baby carrots with tops, trimmed and washed
1½ tablespoons olive oil
1½ teaspoons fresh thyme leaves
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1½ tablespoons unsalted butter

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

Toss the carrots, oil, and thyme leaves together in a large bowl.  Sprinkle generously with salt and pepper.  Spread the carrots in a single layer on a large rimmed baking sheet; dot with butter.  Roast until tender and brown, stirring occasionally, about 40 minutes.

Lemons and Anchovies: Grapefruit Cranberry Bars with a Chocolate Shortbread Crust

I'm going to commit sacrilege.  Ready?  I get tired of pumpkin pie.  Yes, I admit it.  After about the fifth slice, I'm wishing there was something else sweet to eat.  ANYTHING.  I can only take so much pumpkin before I go on strike.  So this year I strategically planned a different dessert to bring.  And I kept it secret from the pumpkin pie-loving hordes.  I didn't stray too far from the theme though.  It has cranberries.

After all of that buildup, and the beauty of the finished product, I have to admit I'm not overly fond of this recipe.  Which was kind of a let-down.  I mean, it's not a flop by any means.  It turns out and tastes good.  But it's missing something.  Maybe too much sugar in the cranberries kills the tartness.  And the crust needs...something.  I've got ten other things to make, or I'd try to figure it out.  But if you want something different and don't want to shock anyone's sensibilities, it's certainly a good choice.  And it got me away from pumpkin pie for a brief moment, which is always appreciated.

Grapefruit Cranberry Bars with a Chocolate Shortbread Crust
Adapted from Lemons and Anchovies blog and a recipe in Bon Appetit magazine

Crust
1 cup all-purpose flour
¼ cup granulated sugar
2½ tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
¼ cup chopped almonds
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into cubes
1-2 tablespoons heavy cream or whole milk

Filling
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup fresh squeezed grapefruit juice
1 teaspoon grapefruit zest
1 (12-ounce) bag fresh cranberries
1 tablespoon Grand Marnier (or other alcohol...cognac? brandy?)
1 tablespoon butter

2 ounces 60% bittersweet chocolate

Preheat the oven to 350°F.  Butter an 8-inch square pan, line it with parchment paper, and butter the top of the paper.  Set aside

In a food processor, combine the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, almonds, and salt.  Pulse until the mixture is well combined and the almonds are ground.  Add the butter and pulse until the mixture resembles pea-size pebbles.  Add the cream and pulse until the dough just starts to come together.

Press the dough into the bottom of the prepared pan.  Bake for 15 minutes.  The dough may puff slightly, but it can be pressed back down with a spoon when it is removed from the oven.  Alternately, pie weights can be used to keep the dough smooth during blind baking.

Combine the sugar, grapefruit juice, grapefruit zest, Grand Marnier, and cranberries in a medium saucepan.  Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-high and cook until the cranberries have popped, about 6 minutes.  Add the butter and cook for another 3 to 4 minutes until the mixture thickens.

Pour the cranberry mixture into the prepared baked crust and smooth the top.  Raise the oven temperature to 400°F and bake the bars for 15 minutes.  Remove the pan from the oven and cool on a wire rack.

Melt the bittersweet chocolate and fill a ziploc baggie with the chocolate.  Snip a small corner off the bag and, sweeping back and forth, pipe lines of chocolate over the cranberries.

Makes 8 to 10 servings