Arsip Tag: pistachio
Last weekend, I baked three birthday cakes. One of my mother’s oldest friends was turning 65, and when she mentioned that she was going to order the cake for her birthday party from a bakery, I had to object. People, when I turn 65 someone better bake me a homemade cake, is all I am saying. I think the very least someone deserves for hitting such a fine age with style is a friend, elbows-deep in flour, frosting and devotion.
So I volunteered myself, and I knew exactly what I wanted to make. I had seen this utterly insane and therefore completely and totally awesome cake on Leite’s a couple months ago. It involved all of the best things on earth: a pistachio layer cake, thin ribbons of jam, sheets of marzipan and bitter-chocolate ganache filling and coating. It had marzipan flowers on top, with a trail of pistachios simulating leaves. It was the prettiest things I have ever seen.
But as we got to discussing what would work for her party, we decided to go another route, one that would ensure there would be something for everyone, and in a move that everyone I know still considers utterly insane, I offered to bake three: one Hazelnut Brown Butter Cake (I doubled it, filled and coated it with ganache), one Tiramisu Cake and one Perfect Party Cake from Dorie Greenspan (don’t worry, I’ll get to this one soon). What can I say? I imagined three square cakes lined up on their stands, and the cuteness was almost too much to bear.
Astoundingly, we made it to the party on time with all three cakes intact–and even managed to score a parking space right in front of the Upper West Side apartment building, making for the easiest cake-delivery, ever. But I forgot my camera, something I might kick myself for until the end of time. [P.S. The cakes were a hit!]
So why am I telling you about this today? Because I couldn’t get the pistachio-marzipan-chocolate cake out of my mind. And my birthday was last week. And I wanted that cake, and that cake only. I bided my time until Sunday, when we’d see our families for Father’s Day and SantaDad’s birthday, not to mention my mother (the ultimate marzipan fanatic). And though the cake decorating session I commenced at 10:30 p.m. on Saturday night was the grimiest, messiest, most gummed-counter one yet, I have to say: this puts last year’s birthday cake to shame.
Alisa Huntsman and Peter Wynne modeled this cake after European petits fours glacees, those pretty, tiny, complicated things composed of cake layers and jams, covered in fondant, marzipan, chocolate or glaze, always with a piped flower on top. This is my kind of baking. I loved how elaborate the cake was, such a welcome change from the generic layers plus butter cream readily available. I can’t wait to see what else is in the book. But really–because who are we kidding here–I can’t wait to try the leftover slice in the fridge tonight.
Pistachio Petit Four Cake
Adapted from Sky High: Irresistible Triple-Layer Cakes via Leite’s Culinaria
Look, I don’t need to tell you that this cake is a little insane to make. But I can tell you it’s worth it, and not nearly as complicated as it might seem from the outset. It’s a one bowl (plus food processor) cake, the jam comes from a jar, ganache takes two minutes to make, and next time, I’d probably just buy the marzipan from a tube, already made, rather than making my own from almond paste.
For the cake
3/4 cup skinned pistachio nuts
1 2/3 cups sugar
2 cups cake flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 ounces unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
5 eggs, lightly beaten
For the marzipan
8 ounces almond paste
1 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
For the dark ganache glaze
1 pound extra-bittersweet chocolate
1 1/4 cups heavy cream
3/4 cup apricot preserves
Marzipan roses for decoration (optional; see note)
Make the cake
1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Butter three 8-inch round cake pans. Line the bottom of each pan with a round of parchment or waxed paper and butter the paper.
2. Spread out the pistachios in a baking pan and toast in the oven for 7 to 10 minutes, or until lightly colored. Transfer to a dish and let cool completely. Finely chop the pistachios and set 1/4 cup aside for decoration.
3. Put the remaining 1/2 cup pistachios in a food processor. Add the sugar and pulse just enough to grind them finely.
4. Pour into a large mixing bowl and add the flour, baking powder, and salt. Blend with the mixer on low for 30 seconds. Add the butter, milk, and vanilla and, with the mixer on low, beat until completely incorporated.
5. Raise the speed to medium and beat until light and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the beaten eggs in 2 or 3 additions, scraping down the sides of the bowl well and mixing only long enough to blend after each addition. Divide the batter among the 3 prepared pans.
6. Bake for about 25 minutes, or until a cake tester or wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow the layers to cool in the pans for 10 minutes. Turn out onto wire racks, carefully peel off the paper liners, and let cool completely.
Make the marzipan
1. Crumble the almond paste into a large mixing bowl. Use an electric mixer on low speed to soften the almond paste. Add the confectioners’ sugar and corn syrup and beat until smooth. Wrap well in plastic so it doesn’t dry out, and allow to rest at room temperature for 1 to 2 hours before rolling out.
Make the dark ganache glaze
1. Chop the chocolate coarsely and put it in a heatproof bowl. Bring the cream to a bare simmer. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and let stand for 5 minutes. Whisk until smooth and use the glaze soon after making so that it doesn’t set.
Assemble the cake
1. Roll out a third of the marzipan on a work surface dusted with a little confectioners’ sugar to about 1/8-inch thickness.
2. Set one of the cake pans upside down on the marzipan and trim around it with a small knife to make an 8-inch round. Repeat two more times with the remaining marzipan. Save all your scraps to make roses for decoration, if you like.
3. Place one cake layer on a cake board, flat side up. Spread 1/4 cup of the preserves evenly over the top, leaving a 1/4-inch margin all around. Place one marzipan round on top of the preserves and spread 1/3 cup of the Dark Ganache Glaze over the marzipan so that it completely covers the surface. Repeat with the second cake layer, adding more preserves, another round of marzipan, and more ganache glaze. Top the cake with the third layer. Spread the last of the apricot preserves over the top of the cake and cover it with the last round of marzipan.
4. Place the cake on a wire cooling rack that is nesting in a baking pan. Pour the remaining ganache glaze over the cake, in several additions, spreading to coat the top and sides. Allow the ganache to set. Garnish the cake with the reserved chopped toasted pistachio nuts and a single marzipan rose or several smaller roses.
Note: To make marzipan roses
1. First, tint the marzipan, if desired, by kneading in a tiny amount of paste food coloring, dabbing just a small bit onto the marzipan with the tip of a toothpick. Flatten the tinted marzipan into a disk and roll out on a work surface dusted with confectioners’ sugar or between 2 sheets of waxed paper to a sheet 1/8 inch thick.
2. With a 1 1/2-inch round cookie cutter, cut out 8 or 9 circles. Cover all the marzipan you are not using immediately with plastic wrap so it doesn’t dry out.
3. Roll one piece of marzipan into a ball the size of a marble and pinch with your fingers to shape into a cone about 1 to 1 1/4 inches high, tapering to a fine point at the top.
4. Take another round of marzipan and wrap it like a petal around the cone, pinching it at the bottom to adhere and at the top to thin and ruffle slightly like a flower. Repeat with the remaining â€œpetals,â€ overlapping slightly as you work your way around. If necessary, use a little water to help glue the marzipan in place.
Some Prep and Travel Tips
The more cakes I make, the more I get back to the basics I learned when I worked in a bakery in high school. Previously, I never thought that all of those “extra” things they did applied to the home baker; I was wrong.
First, I baked the cake itself a few days in advance, flash-froze them, wrapped each layer in three sheets of plastic wrap, and decorated it, still frozen. This made them very easy to maneuver, and saved me from the chaos that would be baking and decorating in one session. (It also saved us the mighty inferno of last weekend’s weather. By the time the heatwave hit, I’d already had all the cakes baked, THANK GOD.) Wrapped well, you can freeze cakes for up to a month and nobody would ever know upon tasting the final product.
Second, I finally started using cake boards, or those cardboard rounds about 1-inch wider in diameter than the cake. Bakeries use them for a reason: they protect the sides of the cake when it is boxed up. They also make it very easy to transfer the cake from box to plate. You can line them with a shiny foil paper or a doily. Having tried both, I think I prefer the former.
Third, I’m finally slipping some scraps of waxed paper under the cake, protecting the board from my decorating messes. Yes, I know this is Cake Decorating 101 material, but my laziness always won out in the past.
Finally, I didn’t even bother trying to use my cake carrier. I simply bought three boxes from a local bakery (they give them to us for about $2 each, the smartest money we spend.) Hearkening back to my bakery days, I tied them with bakery string, the honest-to-god easiest way to carry a boxed cake, while keeping it balanced. In a pinch, you can even stack the boxes (rotating each one slightly, so their sides cross the corners of the box below), though I don’t recommend this for any extended period of time.
One thing I am realizing about going a long time without eating meat (15 years) followed by a relatively short time eating as a moderately enthusiastic meat eater (5 years and change) is that it doesn’t always occur to you to include it in meals. In fact, I have apparently only made four dishes on the site this year that include meat, and two were briskets for big dinner parties. With a fridge bursting (literally; if you can find room for a jar of mayo in there, you’d be my hero) with spinach and scallions, radishes, real baby carrots, sugar snaps, shelling peas and tiny freshly-dug red potatoes rolling off the top, I can hardly imagine why I’d need to roast a chicken. But when I was going through my (very, very, very long) list of Recipes I Want To Try last week, these lamb chops jumped out at me, promising to at least temporarily break me out of my asparagus — hashed! ribboned! tossed with pasta for one! — rut.
There were three big sells on this recipe for me, the first being Anne Burrell: I love everything she cooks. The second was that these chops are entirely in the kitchen and I had no idea you could make great lamb chops without a grill. Related, reason three is that, I only recently discovered that I like, nay, love lamb chops. Adore them. In fact, I think my enjoyment of lamb chops — versus dabbling in ribs or a vague appreciation of steak — is pretty much the only thing that makes me a “real” meat eater these days, which I define as liking the taste of something so much, you’d even enjoy it plainly, just salt and pepper on a grill. That’s love, right?
Fortunately, this recipe has a little fun with them, smearing them, once browned, with a olive-pistachio-lemon zest and garlic tapenade that you can whiz up in no time in a food processor. Chops are browned for two minutes on each side in a pan, slathered with the tapenade and baked for five minutes to utter lamb perfection — the whole dish can literally be pulled off in 30 minutes, leaving time for the important stuff, like sitting in the grass, and pondering how your thighs got so awesome. What, you don’t do that too?
One year ago: Lemon Mint Granita
Two years ago: S’More Pie
Three years ago: Black-Bottomed Cupcakes
Lamb Chops with Pistachio Tapenade
Barely tweaked from Anne Burrell
1/2 cup pistachios, shelled and toasted
1/2 cup pitted green (what I used) or Cerignola (what Burrell recommends) olives
2 tablespoons capers
1 clove garlic, smashed
1 tablespoon freshly chopped oregano leaves (nixed because mine had gone bad)
2 tablespoons freshly chopped parsley leaves
Extra-virgin olive oil
1 lemon, zested
1 (8-rib) rack of lamb or 6 lamb chops
Freshly ground black pepper*
To make the pistachio tapenade: In a food processor combine the pistachios, olives, capers, garlic, herbs and puree. While the machine is running, slowly drizzle in olive oil until the mixture becomes a paste. Add the zest and pulse 1 more time, drizzling in more oil if necessary. Reserve until ready to use.
If using a rack of ribs: Remove 2 rib bones from the 8 rib rack to make it a 6-rib rack. Counting from either end, remove the 2nd and 7th bones; this will create 6 even chops that are thicker than a normal lamb chop. Cut 6 even chops.
Cook your chops: Season your six lamb chops generously on either side with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Allow them to sit for 10 to 15 minutes before cooking.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Coat a large saute pan generously with olive oil and bring to medium-high heat. When the oil is hot but not smoking, add the lamb chops and cook for about 2 minutes on each side to brown. If the pan begins to smoke, lower the heat. The chops should be beautifully caramelized on both sides. Remove the chops to a sheet pan and schmear generously with the pistachio tapenade. Place in preheated oven and cook another 4 to 5 minutes for medium rare. Remove chops from oven and let rest for at least 5 minutes before serving.
* My addition. Does anyone know why not a single Anne Burrell recipe calls for black pepper, only salt? I would love to hear your theories!
Growing up, we made popsicles by pouring orange juice into these molds, letting them freeze and eating them outside so we didn’t sticky up the kitchen floor. But when I first bought these popsicles molds a year ago, did I put juice in them? No. I started dreaming about frozen cherry cheesecake popsicles and key lime pie paletas. I became obsessed with recreating the creamsicles of my youth, but only if the outside layer was orange and the middle was white. I began scratching out recipes for rum-mango-coconut popsicles, roasted peach and frozen yogurt on a stick and strawberry black pepper frozen ices that might taste like one of my favorite summer cocktails.
I first read about magical one-ingredient banana ice cream around the same time. If you haven’t, well, go buy some bananas. Freeze them until they’re almost quite but not completely frozen, then cut them into chunks and blend them in a food processor and you’ll have the most amazing soft serve banana gelato ever.
Of course, I couldn’t leave well enough alone. I had to fiddle, and when I did I discovered that roasting the bananas first, before freezing them, added a bit extra dimension to the flavor. And if you roasted them with brown butter, a drop (okay, two) of rum, vanilla and cinnamon and paired them with chocolate ganache with flecks of sea salt, it’s just. I cannot. It’s ridiculous.
And then summer came back again and it got hot, so hot, guys. And even though I’ve made peace with summer. Even though I was legitimately bummed yesterday when we had a freak lukewarm day that required a cardigan in the morning (who am I anymore?). Even though I love projects that allow me to be as crafty as I want in the kitchen, I looked at my ideas for popsicles and was sure I’d lost my ever-loving mind. Popsicles should not be complicated.
And so I made these instead. They have three ingredients, three ingredients that provide everything a good popsicle should — creaminess, perfect sweetness, enough indulgence that your 3 year-old (okay, and his resident 30-somethings) isn’t suspicious that you’re just trying to get more fruit into him, and for me, the essential salty crunchy that I want to contrast every dessert. And they are amazing.
One year ago: Pink Lemonade Bars
Two years ago: Tomato Salad with Crushed Croutons
Three years ago: Summer Succotash with Bacon and Croutons (Think you don’t like succotash? This will change you.)
Four years ago: Asparagus with Chorizo and Croutons
Five years ago: Nectarine, Mascarpone and Gingersnap Tart
Six years ago: Pearl Couscous with Olives and Tomatoes
Banana, Nutella and Salted Pistachio Popsicles
Can these count as breakfast? Banana, Nutella (so European, right?) and a small handful of nuts counts, right? I’m asking for a friend.
I mostly resisted my normal impulses to make things complicated, but caved on two flavorings — 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract and 1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon. You’ll be fine without them, but they add a wonderful extra dimension here. So might coconut milk or rum or salted peanuts instead of pistachios or peanutella instead of Nutella but we’re not going to do that, are we?
Makes 7 1/3-cup popsicles
1/3 cup shelled roasted salted pistachios
4 large bananas, ripe but not mushy
A scant 1/2 cup Nutella or another chocolate-hazelnut (gianduja) spread
Flavorings (see Note up top), if desired
Grind pistachios to a powder. Set aside.
Peel bananas and break them into chunks. Puree them with any flavorings you might want to add. You should have about 2 cups puree.
Scoop Nutella into a small plastic bag and snip off the corner. (Trust me, fake-piping it into the narry molds is easier than trying to spoon it in.) Pour a little banana into each mold, then squiggle in a little Nutella. Repeat a couple times, trying to make sure that every bite or two will have Nutella in it, using about 1 tablespoon of Nutella in each popsicle. Fill molds to about 1/4-inch before the top, to leave room for expansion when freeze.
If using molds that contain sticks or hold wooden ones in place, snap on lids and freeze until solid, about 5 hours. If using glasses or open cup molds, freeze until beginning to set (about 1 1/2 to 2 hours), then insert the sticks until freeze until fully solid. If using instant popsicle makers, I’m jealous, just follow the manufacturer’s instructions.
Once frozen, spread pistachios out on a cold plate. Unmold popsicles and roll them all or partially in the nuts. Go outside to eat them so you don’t sticky up the kitchen floor.
Popsicle molds: I use these guys. I have the metal version, which was all that was available when I bought them a couple years ago, but the metal parts are not dishwasher safe and don’t hold the popsicle sticks in place as well as I understand the plastic ones do, so if I were buying them again, I’d opt for plastic.
Let me just get the obvious out of the way because I know what you’re thinking: what am I doing here? Shouldn’t I be packing for our move, which is less than 24 hours from now? These are all valid questions, but you see, there is history here, a long history of kitchen-related procrastination. Two days before our last move, I sheeted pasta and peeled favas. I spent the last week of my pregnancy stocking the freezer with foods to
bribe charm labor and delivery nurses with. When I was done with that, I made a cake for people coming to visit the new baby. When my induction was trudging along pitifully slowly, I pulled out my laptop and wrote up a new recipe I’d made in the days before. Thus, it should be no surprise that on Tuesday, with a totally straight face, I made the argument by turning the last splash of heavy cream, handful of chocolate chips and a half-pint of vanilla ice cream leftover from this into hot fudge sauce, I was “packing.” But yesterday, I didn’t even have an excuse; I just needed a break from having exasperating conversations a store that lost the mattress we ordered and could maybe get us a replacement sometime in September, arrgh.
Ahem. I’ve been in a bit of a fervor this summer over the apricots from Red Jacket Orchards. I shared a photo of them the other day and someone asked me what I was going to make with them and I was confused. Make? With apricots? Why on earth would you make something with apricots, when you could eat them as-is, even four in a row as my son did before my dropped jaw yesterday. But then the next wave of procrastination hit and why, yes, making something with apricots was a brilliant idea!
In another era of my life, this would have been a tart. I would have made a tart shell and pressed it into a fluted, removable bottom tart pan, trimmed the overhand, pricked it all over with a fork, filled it with pie weighs and par-baked it before filling it elegantly. This all feels way too fussy for my current lifestyle — and by “lifestyle” I mean “barely managed chaos” — and so I made bar cookies instead. Bar cookies are your friend. The crust can be whizzed up in a food processor and pressed into the bottom. You parbake it with no docking and no pie weights, and while it’s in the oven, you use the bowl of your food processor that you didn’t even wash (because la dee da, it doesn’t matter) to grind the pistachio frangipane filling.
Frangipane is usually made with almonds; frangipane is delicious with almonds. But what I really want to eat with apricots is nubby green pistachios, and so I made a pistachio paste instead. As the sole purpose of this baked good was to allow me to avoid handling the real things in my life that need to be handled, and I was very distracted while baking it, my expectations were very low for the results. I figured it would be a disaster and one day, preferably in my new kitchen, I’d make it again properly. But the kitchen faeries were with me — it’s like they wanted me to willfully ignore my to-do list! And who am I to argue with faeries?! — and these are actually wonderful, buttery and rich but not too sweet. For a bar cookie, they are downright elegant. As a way to evade a big looming deadlines, astoundingly effective. Now, who wants to come over and help us pack?
One year ago: Kale Salad with Pecorino and Walnuts
Two years ago: Leek, Chard and Corn Flatbread
Three years ago: Peach Butter
Four years ago: Everyday Chocolate Cake
Five years ago: Lighter, Airy Pound Cake
Six years ago: Key Lime Meltaways
Seven years ago: Mixed Bean Salad
Apricot Pistachio Squares
This recipe is lightly spun from this pear-almond tart from Dorie Greenspan, with a simpler crust and streamlined steps. This is the kind of bar recipe that should theoretically be flexible to use with other ingredients; I’ve been eager to try a peach-pecan or plum-walnut combo. I’d love to hear what kind of spin you give them. You can estimate roughly need twice the weight in pistachios if you’re buying them in their shells.
Yield: 16 or 25 bars, depending on how you cut them
1 cup (125 grams) all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon table salt
1/4 cup (50 grams) granulated sugar
1/2 cup (4 ounces or 115 grams) unsalted butter, cold is fine
3/4 cup (a scant 4 ounces or 110 grams) shelled unsalted pistachios
1 tablespoon (10 grams) all purpose flour
Few pinches of sea salt
6 tablespoons (75 grams) sugar
5 tablespoons (70 grams) unsalted butter, cold is fine
1 large egg
1/4 teaspoon almond extract, 2 teaspoons brandy or another flavoring of your choice (totally optional)
1 pound firm-ripe apricots
Powdered sugar or 1/4 cup apricot jam
Heat your oven to 350 degrees F. Cut two 12-inch lengths of parchment paper and trim each to fit the 8-inch width of an 8×8-inch square baking pan. Press it into the bottom and sides of your pan in one direction, then use the second sheet to line the rest of the pan, perpendicular to the first sheet. (If you have an 8-inch square springform, you can skip this and just butter it well.)
Make the crust: Combine the flour, salt and sugar in the bowl of a food processor. Cut the butter into chunks, and add it to the bowl, then run the machine until the mixture forms large clumps — that’s right, just keep running it; it might take 30 seconds to 1 minute for it to come together, but it will. Transfer the dough clumps to your prepared baking pan and press it evenly across the bottom and 1/4-inch up the sides. Bake for 15 minutes, until very pale golden. For the sake of speed, transfer to a cooling rack in your freezer for 10 to 15 minutes while you prepare the filing.
(Don’t have a food processor? You might have an easier time using softened butter and preparing this cookie-style: cream it with the sugar with a hand mixer, then spoon in the salt and flour, beating until just combined. It might help to chill this mixture a bit before pressing it into the pan, or it might feel too greasy to easily spread.)
Make the filling: In your food processor bowl (which I never bother cleaning between these steps), grind your pistachios, sugar, flour and salt together until the nuts are powdery. Cut the butter into chunks and add it to the machine. Run the machine until no buttery bits are visible. Add any flavorings and egg, blending until just combined.
Spread filling over mostly cooled (warmth is okay but it’s hoped that the freezer will have firmed the base enough that you can spread something over it) crust. Cut apricots in half (or, you might find that you can tear them open at the seams with your fingers) and remove pits. From here, you have a few decoration options: you can place the apricot halves in facedown or up all over the pistachio base. You can do as I did, which is cut them into strips, then slide each cut half onto a butter knife or offset spatula, tilt it so that it fans a little, and slide it onto your pistachio filling decoratively. (With this method, I ended up not using all of my apricots.) You could also arrange the strips like petals of flower around the pan, for maximum pretties.]]
Bake the bars for 60 minutes, or until they are golden and a toothpick inserted into the pistachio portion comes out batter-free. This might take up to 10 minutes longer depending on the juiciness of your apricots and the amount you were able to nestle in. Let cool completely in pan; you can hasten this along in the fridge.
To finish, you can make a shiny glaze for your tart by warming the jam in a small saucepan until it thins, and brushing this mixture over the top of the cooled tart. Or, you can keep it rustic with just a dusting of powdered sugar, as I did.
Cut bars into squares — chilled bars will give you the cleanest cuts. Keep leftover bars chilled.
To add more flavors to the cake, feel free to rub lemon or orange zest right into the sugar for maximum flavor dispersal/release. Rosewater is also a popular addition to pistachio cakes.
To make the cake without a food processor, you’re going to want to start with 140 grams pistachio meal or flour (vs. shelled pistachios) and softened butter and can proceed as with a traditional cake.
Now, here is the terrible warning I must give you: My oven is acting up, not holding temperatures properly and yes I have complained endlessly to my landlord and we are maybe waiting on a new panel, I don’t even know, I don’t want to talk about it. I have two (!) brand-new oven thermometers in there and watch them like a hawk when I bake so I can adjust the temperature as needed but I want you to take the baking time listed (about 70 minutes) with a grain of salt and promise to check it at 60 minutes but also know that there’s a small chance it might take up to 80 minutes. As people report back with their baking times, I’ll narrow the range.
- 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (140 grams) roasted, shelled, and unsalted pistachios
- 1 cup (200 grams) granulated sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
- 10 tablespoons (5 ounces or 145 grams) unsalted butter, cold is fine
- 3 large eggs
- 1/4 cup milk
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
- Slightly heaped 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
- 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons (115 grams) all-purpose flour
- 1/3 cup (40 grams) roasted, shelled, and unsalted pistachios
- 1/4 cup (50 grams) granulated sugar
- Finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
Lemon-Pistachio Glaze (optional)
With a food processor: In the work bowl of your food processor, grind pistachios, sugar and salt together until as powdery as you can get them without it turning to paste. Cut butter into small chunks and blend with pistachio mixture. It’s going to be lumpy at first, and then balled for a minute, but keep running the machine until the mixture loosens up into a frosting-like consistency, i.e. smooth and shiny. Add eggs, one at time, blending briefly between each, scraping down sides as needed. Add milk, blend to combine. Add extracts and baking powder and blend to fully combine, scraping down workbowl. Add flour and pulse just until it disappears.
Without a food processor: You’re going to want to start with 140 grams pistachio meal or flour and softened butter and can proceed as with a traditional cake. Beat butter and sugar until fluffy, then beat in eggs, one at a time. Beat in milk, then extracts until smooth. Beat in salt and baking powder until fully combined, scraping down bowl well. Add flour and mix just until it disappears.
To bake: Scrape batter into prepared pan and spread top smooth. Bake for 60 to 70 minutes (see note up top by way of explanation/apology). Mine took 70, but it’s safest to check sooner. Look for a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake to come out clean and then, do a second check near the top. I find with loaf cakes that the undercooked batter likes to hover right below the top crust. It often takes 10 minutes extra (built into this baking time already) just for that to set for me.
Let cake cool in pan on rack for 10 to 15 minutes, then run a knife around cake and transfer to cooling rack. Let cool completely.
To make glaze (optional): Bring pistachios, sugar, zest, and juice to a simmer in a small saucepan; simmer for 2 to 3 minutes then pour over cooled cake.
To serve: Cut into slices. Cake is great on the first day but even better on the second, as the ingredients settle. Keep at room temperature for several days, wrapped in foil, or longer in freezer.