Kitchen Comforts?

Many bakers will tell you that they like to engage in their art as a means of relaxation. “The kitchen is my sanctuary.” I’ve always found that a funny thought, if only because baking always results in a certain amount of stress for me. If I can’t find any obvious problems with that which I’m baking, I’m creating other maladies my poor innocent baked good could be suffering. Either I’m going to burn it or it’s raw in the middle. If I did all my measurements correctly, I’m certain I put in baking soda when the recipe called for baking powder. If I really can’t find anything I did wrong in assembling the sweet, it will turn out to be ugly (I just know it). I’m a baking hypochondriac, if you will.

And while it would seem that my neurosis prevents me from enjoying these jaunts into my kitchen Shangri-la, I find that it soothes me to worry about these small things. Being able to obsess over whether or not I overmixed the dough is, at its core, a luxury. I’m not worrying about how much money I make, how tall I am, or whether or not my boss thinks I’m competent. I answer only to the end product – and in the meantime, the measuring cups, the wooden spoon, and the oven all answer to me.

But on to the recipe!

Today I had no luck in having lemons magically appear in the office kitchen (though I pined for them enough). A special on blueberries at the grocery store and a fervent desire to continue my “breads and bars” quest lead me to the Lemon Blueberry Bread you see before you. Try this recipe from JoyofBaking.com and I promise you, whatever you invest in time and effort will be doubly returned in psychic income. It is much less dense than the Lemon Poppyseed Bread, and pleasantly moist. The cake is not overwhelmingly lemony, save for the top where you apply the glaze. If I had realized this beforehand, I would’ve applied the glaze everywhere.

Lemon Blueberry Bread Recipe:

For the original recipe, click here.

Notes:

This recipe calls for a 9 x 5 x 3 inch loaf pan. If you’re like me and you only have an 8 x 4 x 3 inch pan, add a few minutes to the total baking time. But still make sure to check on it initially at around 55 minutes.

Also, in order to coordinate the glaze, I would suggest beginning your work on the glaze approximately 10 minutes before your initial check on the bread. That way, you have time to prepare it, but it doesn’t sit on the stove too long prior to glazing. If your glaze has to wait too long (and you’ve turned the heat off), it will start to thicken. Periodically turn the heat on again and stir it to make sure it maintains the correct consistency while your loaf finishes baking.

Oh, and while the bread was exceedingly popular, I felt I would have derived even greater enjoyment from its consumption if I had added an extra ¼ cup of blueberries.

In short: Coordinate the glaze with the bread so they both end up hot when the glaze is applied. And add more blueberries if you’re adventurous.

Lemon Poppyseed Aftermath

A few thoughts:

The recipe produces a dense, buttery bread that much resembles pound cake. The ratios are such that the buttery taste does not overwhelm the lemon, which is nice. My favorite part was the effect of the glaze as it seeped into the loaf overnight after application. This would probably go well with a black tea. Small servings are advisable, given its richness -- I sliced the loaf into regular slices, and then cut each of those in half.

Zesting lemons is an enormous pain -- unless you invest ~$12-16 in a contraption called a Microplane (Microplane is the best known brand, but I believe others make this same item as well). You may have seen these in restaurants when someone asks if you want parmesan cheese on your pasta. They're a special type of grater for fine things like zesting citrus fruit or grating nutmeg. Instead of being a four-sided grater, they're long and flat, with a handle. The cutting holes are just the right shape to prevent whatever you're grating from hanging in the metal, which is great for when you want to zest directly into a mixture of something. Alternately, if you've got steady hands and a sharp paring knife, you can slice off the zest. I have never tried this myself, but I am sure it would work better than using my regular four-sided grater, as that tool claimed all my zest and refused to give it back. Just be sure to avoid the white part beneath the yellow, as that will make your resulting dish bitter.

Juicing lemons is fairly straightforward, though it's more difficult if your lemons are not as ripe as you'd like. It helps to vigorously roll your lemon on a kitchen counter or tabletop prior to slicing and juicing. Use your body weight to get the juices moving around in the fruit -- but don't lean too hard or you'll end up with juice all over yourself. You'll know you're succeeding when:
1. The lemon becomes softer when you squeeze it
2. The smell of the lemon becomes more apparent
Rachel Ray says you can pop a citrus fruit into the microwave for something like 10 seconds to "get the juices going," but it makes me nervous to put something so fresh into a microwave. So I say, rolling is better, but nuke in a pinch.

A Letter (and a Lemon Recipe)

To Whom It May Concern,

Over the past few weeks, I've become increasingly engrossed in food blogs. So many are maintained by individuals who start out as "Oh baking is just a hobby of mine, I've been tinkering in the kitchen since I was little" and end up publishing books and appearing on food television shows and opening their own bakeries. To those people, I send my heartiest congratulations, tinged only slightly with a wistful jealousy. Your talent astounds me.

If you are looking for a place to find new and creative recipes, this is probably not the best place to look. When it comes to the kitchen, I am a pilgrim, not a priestess. This is a place where I can chart my findings and occasional achievements from a life overwhelmed by the everyday -- a 9-to-6 job, rent, bills, and all the other symptoms of an as yet unsettled existence. And by unsettled, I don't mean unfulfilled. Just unsettled.

Opening a bakery of my very own is one of my many dreams. It's high on the list, up there with learning to scoop, level, and add the exact right amount of spice to a bowl of dry ingredients using only my telepathic powers. For now though, I am aspiring mainly to create sweets (and occasionally more substantial meals) for others to enjoy. And by "others," I mean myself -- and then everybody else. So please, read, experiment, and take heart in the fact that you are not the only "______ by Day, Baker By Night" who yearns for recipes that can be executed in between all the Necessary Acts of the rest of your life.

Oh, and I apologize for the quality of pictures. It is my hope that someday I will look back at these and think, "Ugh, well every butterfly has to be a pupa at some point."

And so, on with the recipes!

Last week, some generous individual brought an entire suitcase full of "Fresh California Lemons" into the shared kitchen area of the office. I took this as a sign that I should venture into the realm of lemon recipes, and made lemon squares. And just when I thought I would never again be so lucky, another suitcase appeared late this afternoon! So today's project was Lemon Poppy Seed Bread, selected with care from JoyofBaking.com. This has been my favorite baking recipe resource lately, though I will also be including recipes I've collected and compiled in a black ring-bound sketchbook in future entries.

Find the link to the recipe here.

Lemon Poppy Seed Bread


Notes: If you lack an electric mixer, this can be tricky. Normally, I ignore it when recipes call for an electric mixer because I can usually get the same effect with a wooden spoon and substantial effort (though baking experts will undoubtedly disagree). However, Stephanie Jaworski notes the importance of aerating the dough to have a successful cake. I nearly broke my own little hand mixer trying to get through the thick dough – it smelled of burning plastic for a good 10 minutes afterwards. Also, pay close attention to baking time. I had my loaf in the oven for barely 55 minutes, and it looked as though it would have burned if I had left it baking for 30 seconds more. I would suggest initially checking it at 30 minutes to gauge the speed of browning (see the recipe), then again at 50 minutes for completion, and then again at 55.

In short: If you lack an electric mixing implement, take care to mix well with your wooden spoon or (should they exist anywhere) your industrial-strength whisk. And don’t overbake.