If you’re searching for a dessert that’s both elegant and easy to make, Raspberry Truffle Tartlets are your new go-to. These bite-sized treats combine the richness of silky chocolate ganache with the bright, tart burst of fresh raspberries: all nestled in a crisp, buttery tart shell. The result? A perfectly balanced indulgence that looks as impressive as it tastes.
Whether you’re hosting a dinner party, prepping for a holiday gathering, or simply craving something decadent, Raspberry Truffle Tartlets deliver big flavor in a petite package. Their refined appearance makes them a standout on any dessert table, yet they’re surprisingly simple to prepare, no pastry chef skills required.
The best part? These tartlets are endlessly customizable. Add a dash of espresso to the ganache for a mocha twist, top with a dollop of whipped cream, or finish with a sprinkle of sea salt for a gourmet touch. You can even switch out the raspberries for blueberries! However you serve them, Raspberry Truffle Tartlets are guaranteed to wow guests and satisfy any sweet tooth.
What would impress your sweetie more than homemade chocolates?
Ingredients
Scale
1 cup dark semisweet or bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
½ cup heavy cream
1 tbsp raspberry liqueur
Fresh raspberries
Instructions
Line a regular size muffin pan with unbleached parchment liners, two per cup.
To make the ganache, heat the cream just to a boil and then pour it over the chocolate slowly. Set aside to let chocolate soften. Whisk until smooth. Whisk in the liqueur and pour into muffin cups, filling only ⅓ with the ganache.
Let ganache cool partially, then top with raspberries and refrigerate to complete cooling.
To serve, remove tartlets from the tin and remove the parchment cups.
Notes
These will be easiest to remove using the unbleached parchment.
Less than a day’s drive from Pittsburgh, we found blue horizons, fresh crabs, and rum to write home about on the Chesapeake Bay.
“Permission to come aboard?” I say, my hand outstretched to Captain Iris Clarke.
Art Director Camden Leeds is being shamed off of his cell phone so that we can get a safety demonstration on the Selina II, a classic New England Crosby Cat boat.
A Chesapeake Bay Picnic
Captain Iris is in love, a newlywed, and says things like “hubby,” but she’s tough and tan and knows just about everything about the Chesapeake Bay, sailing, and this boat. She’s a third-generation sailor on Selina — built in 1926, it’s the largest of the surviving vintage catboats. The boat is gorgeous, shiny, and updated.
Iris is a handsome woman with a wide smile and searing blue eyes under a broadly brimmed hat. Even when she’s ducking to avoid the 35-foot boom, she looks like a movie star. And even on the most scenic waters, she’s the real entertainment.
Grilled pineapple salsa was made with lightly charred slices of fruit, chopped red onion, jalapeño, cilantro, and dressed with olive oil, salt, pepper and a dash of balsamic.
Christina French and I pass back and forth a cheeseboard, scraping salty crackers through a smattering of olive tapenade and sipping cold Champagne through a squinting sunset. All the while, the Selina leans to one side and cuts through the evening winds.
Enjoy The Quiet Nature
It’s 5:35 a.m., and the beach house is quiet. I pad around the white tile floors, making coffee and gathering my painting stuff. The wall-to-wall windows look out on the blue-gray horizon of the Chesapeake Bay. A lone crab boat motors out of the harbor, and the tree line across the water in this morning light looks almost black.
I peel open my Moleskine and mix cloudy colors on my palette. With slow, deliberate strokes of my brush, I smooth on ivory and oyster clouds. Take a coffee sip. Wash licks of white onto the docks, dotting out into the distance, stilting out of the water. Coffee sip. The dawn paints in emerald grass across the cove before I do. By the time I graze my sketchbook, adding the green, it’s jade.
“That book was written in this town,” Photographer Jeff Swensen says in a whisper. He’s pointing to James A. Michener’s Chesapeake, on the table in front of us. We’re the only ones awake. I offer him the last of the coffee, and date the page in my sketchbook.
Crab in the Chesapeake Bay
“Hold him up higher,” Jeff urges Rennie Gay, the gruff, gloved owner of Gay’s Seafood in Easton, Maryland. He’s pulling live blue crabs out of a basket that he just harvested off of a boat, and dropping them into a tall box for our dinner. Gay lifts a squirming crustacean in front of his sky blue shirt and the camera.
“Okay, now smile,” Jeff says, looking through the lens.
“I don’t smile,” Gay grumbles, his accent indistinguishable.
“I was talking to the crab,” Jeff smirks.
The shack is on dark green waters, and boats pull up out back all afternoon. Hunky men in t-shirts and Oakleys get paid in cash for each bushel they’ve brought in. Some pull up in rickety trucks, their boats parked down the bay. There’s jesting and ribbing that I don’t understand — the accents are as thick as Gay’s, and I don’t know the jargon — but I get that they’re teasing each other, and they’re friends.
Food Fresh From the Bay
Leroy counts money at the front counter while Gay dumps the box of live crabs into a garbage-can-sized steamer with heaps of Old Bay. Without looking up from the bills, Leroy mumbles he’s usually the one who does the steaming. Fans drone loudly behind him, but I hear him, and unlike the crab — I smile.
If it hadn’t been for Cassandra Vanhooser, we all would have pounded the crab with mallets, trying to bludgeon our food. She empties the box of bright red crabs, seasoned when they were steamed, on our brown paper-covered table.
A Hands-On Lesson in Seafood
“First, you pull off all of the legs,” she says in her southern twang. (Our host originates from Nashville.) Crack. Twist. Pull. We watch each other and happily tackle the easy part — our fingers already messy with Old Bay.
“Flip ‘im over. See the Washington monument?” she says, pointing to the crab abdomen with the patriotic-looking appendage. “Pull down on that, and open the apron.
Chesapeake Bay crabs turn orange when cooked, a color just barely visible underneath their salty and savory coating of Old Bay seasoning. Crab picking is a time honored art…which we almost mastered.
“Now, stick yer thumb in there, and crack ‘im open.” I apply pressure and pull the shell apart — my tongue sticking out of the corner of my mouth, trying my hardest. We remove the “dead man’s fingers,” and, watching Cassandra scrape out everything that looks like an organ, we snatch and pick with our tiny knives: grubby surgeons.
Then, we reap the “mustard,” the crab’s yellow-substance hepatopancreas. It’s all over my fingers, which Cassandra says is normal, but gross. Contributing Editor Keith Recker disagrees. “My great-grandmother made a delicious soup with the mustard.”
Weathered crab shacks dot the bay. Chesapeake Bay crabs are best ordered by the bushel-basket. That way no one goes hungry.
We break the chambers apart and start plucking out the meat. I make a little pile of the sweet white pieces. Some of my comrades eat as they go, cashing in on instant rewards of the tough, pointy work.
The mallets finally come into play when it’s time to crack open the claws. We lay our knives, sharp side down, on the bright red claws and chisel in by hammering down. Once we’re in, we break the legs open, exposing long locks of crabmeat. There are hot pools of butter on the table, for dipping and sucking this part, but our host says that’s not the way they do it in Maryland. This is apple cider vinegar country.
Feasting by the Water
A dock picnic is born from afternoon cravings — and a good buzz. We need briny olives, grainy jam, buttery pâté, chewy bread, tart apples, and heady cheese. There’s a gauzy blanket and tufted pillows (on which to accidentally nap). I emerge from the house with a tray full of rum drinks and beam with even less humility than the gaudy fruit garnishes (a whole slab of attention-getting pineapple is my favorite).
The photography gods smile down on us when a sailboat pulls into port, its picturesque skipper modeling a bright yellow raincoat, whipping in the wind. We had heard that Land’s End is also in town this week, shooting their catalogue. Maybe our slickered sailor is from their crew.
Camden whips a wheat-colored linen tablecloth in the salty wind, while I carry stacks of heavy ceramic plates down to the beach. Fiery pineapple makes for a tasty big-bowled salsa, whose journey to the table changes hands so many times that we need more chips by the time it reaches its final destination. Our chairs sink into the sand while the sun sets, and our glasses dribble over with cold wine. We laugh, our lips buttery from the corn, over I-don’t-remember-now and make resolutions to come back next year.
Talk about an a-MAIZE-ing way to serve your fresh summer corn! TABLE contributors, Cecil Usher and Cat Cannon of Mindful Hospitality Group, have created a fun and unexpected cocktail to share with our readers, the Maize de Verano Cocktail. The combination of tangy Tajín spice with sweet, freshly grilled summer corn, gives off a bit of an elote vibe without the mess (wink).
About Tajín in This Corn Cocktail
Tajín seasoning, by no means new, has grown in popularity in recent years. Its subtle taste of chile and its bright citrusy flavor are an invigorating complement to both sweet and savory foods. This Maize de Verano tequila cocktail was inspired by the union of sweet and savory ingredients. Serve this drink with steak fajitas or pork carnitas, and let the fiesta begin.
Let’s say it: A crostini is a multi-tasker. These savory toasts allow for us to snack and chat without ever putting down our cocktail. Take a page from Bella Sera’s Chef Jason Capps’ recipe for Pesto-Burrata Crostini. Start by pulsing up a pesto from sweet peas and asparagus. Then, pair it with indulgent burrata, your guests will be eyeing the kitchen, hoping for seconds.
Why do Sweet Peas Work in Pesto?
Sweet peas may not be your first thought as a pesto ingredient but this unexpected star works exceptionally well to create a fresh, vibrant, and slightly sweeter version of the classic sauce. Their natural sweetness balances the potent, peppery flavor of basil and garlic. It also helps to cut through the richness of the cheese and olive oil. When blended, the peas add a lovely, creamy texture and a bright green color, creating a pesto that is both lighter in flavor and smoother in consistency. Sweet peas can also help to bulk up the sauce. This means you’ll need less amounts of more expensive ingredients like pine nuts or cheese, while adding a dose of fiber and plant-based protein.
Bring your garden into your kitchen with this Pesto-Burrata Crostini.
Ingredients
Scale
1/2 cup toasted pine nuts, plus extra for garnish
1 cup English peas, fresh or frozen
1 cup spinach
1 lb asparagus, trimmed, and cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 tsp Kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper
1 small sourdough/ciabatta loaf
Extra-virgin olive oil
2 balls (about 4 to 8 oz each) fresh burrata/stracciatella cheese
1/2 lemon
Instructions
For the pesto:
Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt it generously.
Add the asparagus and peas, and blanch for 3 minutes.
Drain in a colander, then immediately transfer the veggies to a large bowl of salted ice water.
When they are cool, drain again. Then spread them on a clean kitchen towel and pat dry.
Place all but 1/2 cup of the blanched vegetable in a food processor, and add the pine nuts, spinach, Parmesan, and olive oil. Purée for 5 minutes, scraping down the sides once or twice until completely smooth. Season with salt and pepper.
To make the toasts:
Preheat a grill or grill pan. Cut the sourdough/ciabatta loaf into 1/2-inch-thick slices. Drizzle with a little olive oil and grill over high heat until charred and crispy, about 2 minutes per side.
Spear the burrata/stracciatella onto the slices of grilled sourdough. Serve the vegetable pesto on the side. Top with the reserved 1/2 cup blanched vegetables. Finish with sea salt, a drizzle of olive oil, a squeeze of lemon juice, and the toasted pine nuts.
Growing up, my mom always made stuffed peppers for family dinner: it was a weekly thing I always looked forward to. This recipe puts a twist on the classic stuffed pepper by featuring seafood and my favorite robust pepper—the poblano. It is meaty and not too spicy, just the perfect amount of heat.
This Seafood Stuffed Poblano Peppers dish brings the familiarity of the stuffed pepper – a usual household family-time meal – up a notch with our great, easy-to-make cashew cream. You can find some great poblano peppers from local farms here in Pittsburgh: Tiny Seed Farm,Who Cooks For You Farm, and Clarion River Organics.
Blend together the ingredients for cashew sauce on low in a blender, until completely smooth and silky.
In a sauté pan on medium heat, add oil, shallots, apple, garlic, and apricots. Sauté until translucent (no browning). Add seafood in to heat and soften, 4 to 5 minutes longer. Season with sea salt and white pepper to taste.
In a cast-iron pan over high heat or on the grill, cover the peppers in coconut oil and roast the until equally blistered, about 15 minutes. Once all skin is completely charred through in all spots, remove from heat and put in a container with a lid to steam for about 10 minutes.
Take the pepper from the container and remove some of the char – about 80% of it – being careful not to rip the peppers. Make a slit from top to bottom and remove pit and seeds. Do not rinse pepper in the sink, this removes the flavor!
Stuff the peppers with seafood mixture. Place on a plate, pour cashew sauce over it, and garnish with orange segments and mint.
Story by Maggie Weaver Photography by Dave Bryce Food Styling by Veda Sankaran Prop Styling by Keith Recker Recipe by Chef Steve Paul Wallpaper: Guermantes by Manuel Canovas, Courtesy of Cowtain & Tout
We know how hard it can be to get yourself to cook dinner. After a long day at work, the last thing you want to do is get up off the couch to cook over a hot stove. But, an easy recipe makes the task of dinner at least a bit easier. This Chicken Fajita Skillet is a one-pan effort that takes tender chicken and mixes it with fajita vegetables. Garnish your skillet with avocado, lime, and cilantro before serving hot out of the oven.
What is in Fajita Seasoning?
Fajita seasoning is that aromatic blend of spices which forms the flavor base for this beloved dish. The core of the blend is typically chili powder and cumin for spice. These are then complemented by smoked paprika for a rich, smoky undertone and a vibrant red color. Other essential ingredients include garlic powder and onion powder for a savory base, while a touch of cayenne pepper or crushed red pepper flakes can be added for extra heat. A bit of oregano or dried cilantro and a hint of salt and black pepper usually round out the mix.
In a ziplock bag, add chicken breast, fajita seasoning packet, salt, and olive oil. Toss around until the chicken is evenly coated with the seasoning. Let marinate for at least 30 minutes or for up to 24 hours.
In a cast iron skillet over high heat, add the chicken to the pan and sear until a nice crust is formed on the outside of each chicken breast. At this point the chicken shouldn’t be fully cooked. Remove the chicken from the pan and set aside.
Add you sliced vegetables to the hot pan that was used for cooking the chicken. Sauté until slightly tender.
Add the chicken breast back to the pan and bake in the oven for roughly 15 minutes or until the chicken is fully cooked and the vegetables are tender.
Remove from the oven and slice chicken before serving and garnish with sliced avocado, lime and sprigs of cilantro.
Serve with sour cream and store bought pico de gallo.
Recipe and Styling by Anna Franklin Photography by Laura Petrilla
Bring the bold flavors of Korean BBQ right to your kitchen with our simple Beef Bulgogi Bowl recipe. Bulgogi, which translates to “fire meat,” uses thinly sliced beef marinated in a savory-sweet blend of soy sauce, garlic, ginger, and sesame oil. This recipe elevates the classic dish by serving it in a customizable bowl of thinly sliced vegetables, allowing you to build a perfect, balanced meal. Layered over a bed of fluffy rice and topped with kimchi, this dish is a fantastic way to enjoy a flavorful, hearty, and incredibly satisfying meal that’s easy to prepare.
Where Does Beef Bulgogi Come From?
Beef bulgogi is a staple of Korean cuisine and actually goes back centuries. Some believe the dish comes from the Goguryeo Dynasty (37 BCE–668 CE), where it was initially prepared as a skewered meat dish called maekjeok. Over time, the preparation evolved, and the dish then became known as neobiani, a finely sliced and seasoned grilled beef enjoyed by Korean royalty. But it’s not until the 20th century that bulgogi comes into its modern form, becoming a widespread and accessible dish. Today, its signature sweet and savory marinade and tender, thinly sliced beef are what define beef bulgogi.
1 cup store bought Korean BBQ sauce (we used the brand Ka-me)
1 tbsp sesame oil
1 tbsp soy sauce
4 radishes, thinly sliced
1 carrot, thinly sliced
1 cucumber, thinly sliced
Store bought kimchi, for garnish
Instructions
Place the shaved flank steak in a ziplock back along with the Korean bbq sauce, esame oil and soy sauce. Let marinate for at least 30 minutes or up to 24 hours.
In a very hot skillet, add marinated steak and cook on high until the beef is cooked and starting to caramelize on the outside from the sugar in the bbq sauce.
Serve the sautéed beef over a bowl of white rice and garnish with thinly sliced vegetables, store bought kimchi and sesame seeds.
Recipe and Styling by Anna Franklin Photography by Laura Petrilla
Savor the sweetness of summer with this heirloom tomato soup that’s anything but ordinary. Bursting with ripe tomatoes, caramelized onions, and a swirl of cream, it’s slow-simmered to bring out rich, savory depth in every spoonful. Topped with crispy fried basil and a sprinkle of feta, this vibrant soup is a celebration of peak-season produce. Fresh, flavorful, and perfect for cozy nights or casual dinner parties. If you’re swimming in summer tomatoes, this recipe is your new go-to.
What are Heirloom Tomatoes?
Heirloom tomatoes are open-pollinated varieties passed down through generations for their exceptional flavor, vibrant colors, and unique shapes. Unlike mass-produced hybrids, heirlooms are prized for their rich taste and natural diversity—making them a favorite for summer salads, sauces, and soups.
This combination of tender heirloom tomatoes dusted with feta and fried basil and flooded with a savory soup cooked low and slow, melts across the palette. It’s pure sunshine.
Ingredients
Scale
Heirloom Tomato Soup
1 large onion, diced
¼ cup olive oil
6 cloves garlic, chopped
12 heirloom tomatoes, chopped
Salt and pepper, to taste
5 ½ cups water
1 cup loosely packed basil leaves
1 cup heavy cream
Fried Basil
1 qt salad oil
1/2 lb basil, picked
½ tsp salt
Basil Oil
1 qt salad oil from fried basil
½ tsp salt
1 500 mg vitamin C tablet
1/2 lb basil, picked
Instructions
Heirloom Tomato Soup
In a large saucepan or stockpot, sauté the onions in the olive oil until tender. Add the garlic and cook for about 1 minute longer and then add the tomatoes. Season at this point with salt and pepper. Allow the tomatoes, onions, and garlic to cook over low heat until the tomatoes begin releasing water and break down, approximately 1 hour.
Stir in the water, bring to a simmer and then reduce heat and allow cooking for 2 hours. Season again with salt and pepper at this point. This will allow the flavor to build and the tomatoes to fully cook. Once the vegetables have had time to cook, remove from heat and place in a blender with basil, blending small batches at a time until completely smooth. Strain the soup through a chinois or sieve. Add the heavy cream and reheat to order.
Fried Basil
Heat salad oil on the stove or in a small deep fryer to 325 degrees. Place the picked basil leaves in the hot oil and fry very briefly until crispy and translucent in appearance. Season with salt immediately after removing from the oil. Allow them to sit for 10 minutes before using. Cool and reserve the oil for basil oil.
Basil Oil
Place the cold oil used for frying the basil in a blender with the salt and vitamin C and blend until salt and tablet are dissolved.
Once dissolved, slowly start adding the picked basil to the oil, blending on high, until all the basil is incorporated. (If the basil isn’t the prettiest, add spinach to the oil to improve the color.)
Remove the oil from the blender and strain through a coffee filter in a sieve.
Story and Prop Styling by Keith Recker Photography by Dave Bryce Recipe and Food by Chef Kristin Butterworth
Say “Hello, darling” at the end of a long day with the muddling of a few berries and a bit of Boyd and Blair Potato Vodka in this Blackberry Crush Spritz. It’s bubbly from the seltzer, sweet from the simple syrup, fruity from the blackberries, and a bit tangy from the combination of lemon juice and vodka. What happen’s next is up to you!
When is Blackberry Season?
Truly a summery fruit, blackberries are usually in season from late spring to late summer. Their peak in North America is usually in July and August but this depends on the consistency of weather. In case you’re heading out to pick-your-own blackberries (or even if you’re just shopping for a package in store) look for pump berries that have a firmer texture while still pulling away easily from their vine.
In a glass, combine blackberries, lemon juice, and simple syrup; lightly crush berries to release their juice.
Add ice and Boyd & Blair; top with seltzer and stir.
Notes
Simple syrup is easy…hence its name! Just bring two cups water and two cups sugar to a boil in order to dissolve the sugar. If you’re feeling fancy, add some lemon or orange zest, which you will strain out when cool. Keeps well in a covered jar for a while.
We’re focusing on 30-minute snacks and appetizers that taste as good as they look. Aguachile is a Mexican dish, typically served with shrimp. But, we’re elevating this appetizer with silky scallops, submerged in a blend of mango juice, lime juice, jalapeño peppers and cilantro. Owner of Bar Ronin and LUCERO, Chef Dan Kern shows off just why he’s famous for recipes like these.
What is Aguachile?
Aguachile comes from Mexico, specifically the Sinaloa region, as a spicy dish that is similar to ceviche but is distinct in its preparation and unique flavor. The name literally translates to “chile water” and for good reason. Its liquid base comes from blending fresh green chiles, like jalapeños in our recipe, with lime juice, cilantro, and a bit of liquid such as water or mango juice. This potent, spicy liquid is poured over raw shrimp as the acidity of the lime juice “cooks” the shrimp, just as in ceviche. Though, the process is much quicker and completes a different taste
