These vegan chocolate muffins get a double dose of coffee.
'vegan' on Serious Eats
Looking through the list of sweets you sent in, no one would guess they were vegan. But yes, somehow you made a Cherry and Almond Tart, Truffle-Stuffed Figs, and even Bananas Foster Ice Cream Pies with Chocolate and Peanut Butter Crusts, totally free of animal products. Of course those aren't all, so click through to see all your tasty vegan desserts.
It was the first few days of vegan month and Ed Levine was not doing well. Something had to be done, so I decided it was time to tackle the white whale of ice cream-making: totally vegan ice cream that doesn't suck.
These addictively crispy, chewy balls are full of my two favorite combinations: dark chocolate-cranberry and honey-salt.
Cake Rack Bakery may only be available on weekends at Findlay Market, but their goods are so quality that they're worth getting down there early for. This gluten-free, vegan chocolate cake donut is one of the best of its kind I've ever encountered, and would make a sweet treat for a sensitive friend.
At the new brick and mortar shop of beloved Portland farmers' market staple Petunia's Pies & Pastries, you don't have to be vegan or gluten-intolerant to appreciate the abundance of options in the display case (of which pies are just the beginning). Here are owner Lisa Clark's top picks in the shop.
These chewy, coconut oatmeal cookies are bursting with chocolate chips—plus they're vegan too!
How do you make tiramisu at a a vegan raw food restaurant? You have to have quality ingredients and a few tricks up your sleeve. We went behind the Scenes with Pure Food & Wine, to see the magic happen.
San Francisco is a hey-why-not-try-it kind of town, and you'll see vegan sweets pop up on menus all across the city. (Because hey, why not try vegan baking?) But just because you can eat something doesn't mean you want to. And moreover, it's nice to have some choice. That's why I set out to find restaurants where you will always have a choice of vegan sweets, and where they're known to be delicious, too.
Vegan sweets can be tasty but they can also be terrible, plagued by problems like way too much sugar, a leaden or gummy texture, or simply a lack of imagination. We weeded out the duds and found six great vegan sweets in the city: some of them from old standbys like BabyCakes, and a few from up-and-comers like Dun-Well Doughnuts in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Either way, with these sweet, fluffy, moist and sometimes decadent desserts, things are looking up for vegans in New York.
Isabella's Cookie Company doesn't solely sell vegan cookies, but in the spirit of a "new" new year I did try four cookies from their vegan line: chocolate chip, chocolate chocolate chip, peanut butter, and oatmeal with chocolate chips.
There's everything to like about this emergency cake: moist, chocolatey, and mixed right in the pan.
This sweet and tart sorbet is full of the jammy flavor of stonefruit, perfect for topping buttery cakes or for serving with other summer fruit desserts.
Banana is a great ice cream flavor to veganize, and everyone should have at least one solid vegan ice cream in their book. Churn up this banana-coconut mashup for a lush, juicy, and deeply nutty scoop that behaves a lot like actual ice cream.
Scarfing down a sugary snack without preamble definitely gets the job done, but a little delayed gratification really amps up the satisfaction of certain sweets. These sweets seem to demand a little ritual and thought: Twisting and licking an Oreo, wearing a Fudge Stripe like an edible ring, punching out the middle of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, or folding and nibbling a Fruit Roll-Up into a fruity snowflake.
I don't know that there remains any praise for Biscoff that Francis Lam has not already articulated. Rather than try to out-prose the man who wrote of cookies that "taste beautifully and comfortingly of warm spices, caramel and wheat", I've decided to tackle Biscoff from a different angle; as a chef, not a writer.
Writing a nostalgia-fueled column about childhood junk foods has some occupational hazards. Trips to the grocery now involve huge chunks of time spent roaming the center aisles ("Chips Ahoy or Famous Amos? Oh, hello Pecan Sandies..."), my notebook at work has more pages devoted to Little Debbie than Petite Syrah, and my coworkers get irate when subjected to taste-testing the same thing twelve too many times ("Soft Batch, again?").
Imagine, if you will, a cage match between Butterfinger, 5th Avenue, and Clark Bar. Who would emerge victorious to claim the crispiest, crunchiest, peanut butteriest crown? Moreover, how might we then usurp the throne for ourselves? Let us first define the rules of engagement.
Hershey's syrup enabled even the most gastronomically inept child miraculous culinary powers. With a single drizzle, a pedestrian glass of two-percent became the greatest beverage in all of kiddom: chocolate milk. Likewise, Hershey's syrup could transform a scoop of ice cream into a sundae. Even a slice of store bought angel food cake became something extraordinary when doused in Hershey's.
Either Kellogg's now manufactures Pop-Tarts using a reformulated recipe or the tastebuds I possessed as a child had not developed enough to distinguish between crap and yum. As a kid, I thought Pop-Tarts represented the absolute pinnacle of deliciousness. I remember each nibble bringing supreme, no, divine pleasure. My adult palate, however, finds every bite a new adventure in disappointment.