Pipe Dream Pastries

Vanilla Cupcakes with Chocolate Buttercream

2011-06-29T19:27:00.000-07:00

The best cupcakes of my life were the ones I never got to eat. I was maybe seven or eight at the time, and we were on a trip to Mammoth with my extended family. Being young and fidgety, the long drive up from Southern California nearly cost me my sanity. So by the time we arrived, all I wanted to do was move around.

We had rented a cabin or house of some sort, and since it was summertime, I took advantage of the pool. (How second-grader of me, to drive all the way up to Mammoth to ignore the trees and the mountains and fixate instead on the ubiquitous swimming pool.) I swam and swam my little brains out, until I realized that I was not at all accustomed to the altitude, and soon found myself nauseous and mopey.

What put the nail in my sulky coffin was that it was one of my cousin's birthdays, which the family was celebrating with cupcakes. I can't recall what type of cupcakes they were (my guess is "funfetti"), but I still remember the pangs of longing I felt when I realized I was too ill to partake in them.

By this time, night had fallen, and it was quite dark. My dad, seeing my disappointment at being unable to share in the celebration, took me outside through the back door. He led me a few steps away from the house, to be farther away from the lights within. Then he picked me up and began pointing out all the constellations that the brightness of our hometown streetlamps had always hidden from view. He didn't show me obscure ones, just the main cast of characters: the Big Dipper, the Little Dipper, maybe Orion. I didn't care much about the constellations anyway, so amazed was I by the sheer volume and brightness of the hitherto faint sky diamonds.

When we'd first left the house, I had cast a glance backwards to see my cheery, cupcake-eating family within, and I'd been jealous. But after a few minutes out beneath the stars with my father, I remember looking back at all the folks inside and thinking that if they knew what I was experiencing out there, they would be jealous of me.

It is in that spirit that I share this recipe for the best vanilla cupcakes I've eaten in a long time. The recipe is from the America's Test Kitchen Family Baking Book, and I didn't bother to modify it, because it was excellent as is. The cakes are flavorful even and especially without frosting, but since most people are all about the frosting, I recommend this recipe for chocolate buttercream. There are many chocolate buttercream recipes out there, but I liked this one because it didn't require me to chop or melt any chocolate -- and it's very tasty. Paired together, the two of them served as the perfect reminder that sometimes, with a little help, a dose of bitter disappointment can still become (forgive me) the icing on the cake.

Vanilla Cupcakes
from America's Test Kitchen
Yield: 20-24 cupcakes

2 3/4 cups (11 oz) cake flour
2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
16 TBS (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 3/4 cups sugar
4 large eggs, room temperature
1 TBS vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups whole milk, room temperature

Directions:

1. Adjust the oven racks to the upper-middle and lower-middle positions and heat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line 2 12-cup muffin tins with paper liners - I like to put two liners in each cup, as it makes them sturdier when you pour or spoon in the batter. Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together in a medium bowl.

2. In a large bowl, beat the butter and sugar together with an electric mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, 3-6 minutes. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, and then the vanilla until combined, about 30 seconds.

3. Reduce the mixer speed to low and beat in one-third of the flour mixture, followed by half of the milk. Repeat with half of the remaining flour mixture and the remaining milk. Beat in the remaining flour mixture until just incorporated.

4. Give the batter a final stir with a rubber spatula to make sure it is thoroughly combined. Use a standard 1/4 cup ice cream scoop to portion the batter into each cup. Bake the cupcakes until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with a few crumbs attached, 15-20 minutes, switching and rotating the tins halfway through baking. Let the cupcakes cool in the tins for 10 minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack to cool completely. Spread the frosting evenly over the cupcakes and serve.

Pink Cupcakes

2011-05-31T21:11:00.000-07:00

I've heard it said that inside every woman, deep down, there's a princess. Princess-related theories about child development abound these days, and I've heard many attestations that rituals such as proms and weddings tend to cater to said Secret Inner Princesses. The thought goes that inside every reasonable, logical, respectable woman, there stands a version of herself bedecked in a flouncy gown with a sparkling tiara upon her crown and a crystal scepter in her hand. Okay, maybe not the scepter, but that's how I imagine it.

My problem with the princess theory tends to be, first and foremost, a superficial issue with the universal princess color: pink.

My ideas about the color pink were cemented in my childhood, while watching the movie "Funny Face." Classic Audrey Hepburn with Fred Astaire, dancing and singing and pretending like Audrey hasn't been speaking French all her life (mhm, sure). At the start of the film, Maggie, the feisty female editor of a famous fashion magazine is writing an editorial that turns into an extensive number about why every woman should "Think Pink." All the dresses shown are pink, the office doors get painted pink, one woman is even brushing her teeth with cartoony pink toothpaste. At the conclusion of the number, a side character comes up to Maggie (who is wearing her usual snappy gray and white business ensemble) and marvels at the fact that since her editorial, he hasn't seen one woman in anything but pink. He asks why she, too, isn't sporting the color of the moment.

She responds, "I wouldn't be caught dead." And she was so smart, so independent, so cool, I remember thinking, "Man, I want to be just like her when I grow up!"

I've since come a long way in my prejudices against the color; in fact, in many measures, I've embraced it. I no longer go into a huge guilt spiral when I admire my shiny pink travel coffee mug, nor am I ashamed to have a few pink items in my closet or have a fondness for the occasional use of pink nail polish. If sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, can't pink sometimes just be pink? And yet there's something that still irks me about the fact that I so delighted in baking these Pink Cupcakes. They don't have enough strawberry flavor to warrant them being called Strawberry Cupcakes, just like they have too much strawberry flavor to be called White Cupcakes. They're somewhere in between. And as the original recipe author says in her post here, they really do taste, well...pink.

To be more specific, there's a pleasant lightness in omitting egg yolks that gives the cake more substance than an angel cake, but less substance than a yellow one. Mine had a nice, chewy bite to them, but I also nearly overcooked them (okay -- so I did overcook a few. Don't tell anyone). I liked the tinge of strawberry flavor, aided by the pink-tinted frosting that contained no berry flavor whatsoever, but seemed to once paired with the cakes. And the cream cheese frosting made an excellent pairing, with a slight tang from the cream cheese tempered by the sweetness of the powdered sugar.

I must also admit that the pink cakes and the pink frosting did make them more enjoyable for the eye and the palate. Don't ask me why -- I don't want to have to think about whether or not liking pink stuff is anti-feminist. I don't consider myself as being much of the "inner princess" type, but it would seem I'm not above such rose-tinted temptations, and I don't wish to be a hypocrite, either. So instead, I prefer to think that all girls, no matter how primped or prissy or superficial-seeming they may be have within them an inner Maggie: an intelligent, earnest, sharply-dressed professional woman... who wouldn't be caught dead in pink.

Summary:

Recipe: can be found here
Texture: Light but not too airy, a nice mild chew to the cakes
Effort/Time Required: Uses a lot of baking equipment, takes a good bit of time to make, requires ingredients at room temp (read: more time required)
Great for: Parties of any kind, but make them the day before and keep them frosted and in airtight containers in the fridge until an hour or two before serving
Baking notes: Be careful not to overbake - they can burn quickly

Croissants

2009-09-17T22:38:00.000-07:00

Not too long ago, I decided it would be good for me to face my fear of heights by skydiving. I am naturally quite timid when it comes to "extreme" sports, but the opportunity arose, and after much anxious waffling, I opted to participate. One freak accident and 10 stitches later, I found myself hobbling around on crutches. To console myself, I made a list of all the things I'd do when I was well -- learn to surf, go white-water rafting, maybe even attempt a triathlon! Because life is too short to let fear limit one's adventures, right?

Since my recovery, I've managed to keep the unspoken promise to myself not to let my fear keep me from enjoying life ... in athletics, anyway. Baking is another matter. When a close friend and her boyfriend recently moved to the Bay Area, they asked if they could commission me to bake croissants. And despite all those shiny new "carpe diem" resolutions posted in my brain, I immediately laughed off their request. Homemade pastry? Are you kidding? Mind you, I didn't have past croissant trauma -- I was simply too afraid to even try.

The disconnect only hit me weeks later, as I was dressing in the morning. I reached down to pull a sock over the new and impressive 4"-long crescent-shaped scar on my ankle, my skydiving badge of honor. And then I realized that I was more eager to hurl myself out a plane thousands of feet in the air than I was to attempt homemade pastry dough. It is an odd thing to realize that one's fear of failure surpasses one's fear of bodily injury. Odd and rather pathetic. Both humbled and inspired, I decided to sail forward into the Croissant Sea, knowing full well that the potential for failure loomed ahead. But after one false start, I managed to figure it out -- thanks to a fantastically explicit recipe and the support of my loved ones.

This recipe yields rather small but absolutely delicious croissants. They passed both of the two very important tests administered by the original requester and her guy. She grabbed one end of the crescent and tugged, revealing the soft, almost feathery interior, and proceeded to eat the thing a few layers at a time. Her boyfriend immediately took a large bite, yielding the satisfying "light crunch" sound that only comes from eating flaky pastry, and a smile that took up approximately 30% of his face. Plus, it made my house smell like that of the witch in Hansel and Gretel (read: heavenly), and gave me a renewed sense of power and purpose.

So the next time I get the urge to cower at the prospect of a challenge, I know exactly what I'll do. Instead of having to glance at my grisly scar, I'll simply pop one of my (now frozen) croissants into the oven, enjoy it while it's almost too hot to eat because I can't wait for it to cool, brush the crumbs from my face, and proceed boldly into the face of danger. If it works out, great! If not, at least I've got a freezer full of croissants.

--> Get recipe here

Zucchini Pineapple Cupcakes

2009-08-14T17:22:00.000-07:00

Most everyone feels the need to have a space of their own, but perhaps no one feels it so acutely as those who have siblings. There's something about having to share and being treated equally by one's parents that tends to bring out the unadulterated desire to have things that are Just For You. At least, that's how it worked for me.

In all fairness to my parents, there weren't too many things I had to share with my sister. Truthfully, being the older child actually afforded me far more opportunities to be the first in, well, pretty much everything. Yet despite all the advantages of my birth order, I nevertheless became wholly consumed with the thought of having my own bedroom.

Did I, in my 7 year-old wisdom, have some master plan for the space I felt I so deserved? I can't recollect any. Though I suspect I would have been perfectly content just to fashion myself a construction paper crown and lord over invisible subjects in my newfound bedroom realm with an iron fist.

No, it was simply a matter of principle. Although I'd had my own room 3 years prior to my sister's arrival, I felt I had been too young to appreciate it. So one afternoon, I picked up my favorite blanket and pillow and wandered around the house, going from room to room attempting to annex each as my very own. Of course, I got kicked out of each room just as quickly, particularly since I chose absurd places like the bathtub or beneath the piano bench as my home base.

Now that I'm grown, I no longer have any need to stage a coup when I want some space of my own. It is a supremely comforting feeling to be able to set out some butter, turn on the oven, and transform my humble kitchen into the kingdom I've always wanted. And as an added bonus, I can free my inner dictator with countless decrees. (Never tap the measuring cup while measuring flour! Always be careful when using extrafine sugar because it clumps easily! No recipes that use pre-made cake mixes!)

Luckily for these Zucchini Pineapple Cupcakes, they followed all the rules of my kingdom and did not have to feel my wrath. They are 100% cake mix-free, and also moist but not oily, fresh but not too vegetable-tinged, and not so sweet that you feel your blood sugar skyrocket upon consumption (but sweet enough to benefit from the slight tangy bite of the piece of pineapple atop each one). The recipe has them as a sheet cake, but I simply used cupcake pans instead and reduced the baking time -- start checking around 20 minutes. So if you're ever feeling overrun, take a moment to kick everyone out and reclaim your rightful place on your kitchen throne. Because it's good to be King.

Red Velvet Cupcakes

2009-07-13T19:52:00.000-07:00

In elementary school, my parents were the ultimate bake sale team. Mom's fantastic baking skills coupled with Dad's insistence that when a kid lays down a quarter, he should get a substantial sweet. This meant that he ensured all our treats were oversized. As mom put it, we were hosting our own Monster Cupcake Rally.

It's no surprise, then, that our goodies sold first, putting the smaller or storebought items to shame. This prowess was a great source of pride for me, so I had a bit of swagger each time we packed up the cupcakes to carry them to my classroom. One day we outdid ourselves with gargantuan minicakes covered in a homemade pink frosting. I recall my mom's prophetic voice warning my dad that he was overloading the box I was to carry, saying I would certainly drop them. Dad and I issued a collective scoff and forged on without heeding her words.

You can see where this is going. When my mom and sister pulled up to the school to deliver the rest of the goods, they glimpsed Dad and me, busily picking up cupcakes from the grass, with bits of pink frosting evident in my hair. In my defense, it was a hidden sprinklerhead (that, and my folly) that caused my undoing. And although we managed to salvage most of the cupcakes, my pride remained forever damaged.

For many years, I harbored some resentment toward cupcakes, irrational though it was. No matter how much sugar they contained, the thought of pink frosting in my hair left a bitter taste in my mouth. Until, of course, my mom and sister managed to swoop in (just weeks ago) with a cupcake so tasty, it should be called The Reconciliator -- as opposed to its actual name of Red Velvet. These cupcakes were the first to put my skepticism and post-frosting stress disorder to rest. This recipe yields cakes that are moist but not oily, complex but not flashy, and sport a cocoa-to-cake ratio that's balanced just so that you can detect the chocolate flavor without being overwhelmed by it. Their delicious simplicity was enough to make me think that perhaps cupcakes and I can have a happy future together after all. But no pink frosting just yet. Baby steps!

Red Velvet Cupcakes
Adapted from Paula Deen's recipe here

Ingredients

2 1/2 cups cake flour
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
3/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup buttermilk, room temperature
3 large eggs, room temperature
2 tablespoons red food coloring
1 teaspoon white distilled vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the Cream Cheese Frosting:

1 8-oz package cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 cups sifted confectioners' sugar
Chopped pecans and fresh raspberries or strawberries, for garnish

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line 2 (12-cup) muffin pans with cupcake papers.

In a medium mixing bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, and cocoa powder. In a large bowl cream the butter and sugar together with a wooden spoon. In a Pryex liquid measuring cup, gently beat together the oil, and buttermilk, and then add this to the creamed butter/sugar mixture. Then add the eggs one at a time, food coloring, vinegar, and vanilla with a handheld electric mixer for ~2 minutes, until thoroughly mixed. Add the sifted dry ingredients to the wet and mix until smooth and thoroughly combined.

Divide the batter evenly among the cupcake tins about 2/3 filled. Bake in oven for about 20 to 22 minutes, turning the pans once, half way through. Test the cupcakes with a toothpick for doneness. Remove from oven and cool completely before frosting.

For the Cream Cheese Frosting:

In a large mixing bowl, beat the cream cheese, butter and vanilla together until smooth. Add the sugar and on low speed, beat until incorporated. Increase the speed to high and mix until very light and fluffy.

Garnish with chopped pecans and a fresh raspberry or strawberry.

Cook's Note: Frost the cupcakes with a butter knife or pipe it on with a big star tip.

Whole Wheat Beer Bread

2009-06-08T18:20:00.000-07:00

When you're growing up, adults like to tell you that the easy way is never the right way. Thinking about it now, I can certainly understand that logic. You want your kids to do their homework and not assume that if they're good, some wealthy childless candy baron will make them the heir to an endless chocolate-based fortune. As lovely a thought as it is, one cannot put all one's hopes on a golden ticket.

But there are many instances in which you realize that shortcuts do boast inherent value. I'm not talking about shortcuts like the unmarked road off the highway that inevitably leads somewhere you don't really want to go. No, I am talking about genuine shortcuts -- the ones that yield the desired result with less time and less effort -- as with derivatives.

The first time students are introduced to derivatives in calculus, they are usually given the lengthy, needlessly complex assignment of doing them by hand. You spend an inordinate amount of time working it out, only to find that the next day, the teacher shows you a trick that gives you the same answer in the fraction of the time it originally required. Are you happy to have learned the trick? Of course. Are you put off that you devoted hours (okay, perhaps only several minutes) of your life to executing something that could have been done much more efficiently? A thousand times, yes!

There are, sadly, very few instances in life in which shortcuts are so tidy. Fortunately for all involved, this recipe for Whole Wheat Beer Bread just happens to be one of them. This loaf will not replace a fancy baguette, nor will it have the complexities of a sourdough boule made from ancient starter. It will, however, provide you with a fresh loaf of homemade bread that is both hearty and tasty, requiring no rising or water of a particular temperature. Slice it thick and toast lightly to best experience the full effect of the bread's density paired with its internal softness. Pull a slice apart with your fingers, take a bite, and feel proud of yourself for not only creating something delicious and amazing (with a fantastically craggy crust), but for sticking it to your high school calculus teacher by going straight to the shortcut.

Fleur de Sel Caramels

2009-05-28T15:05:00.000-07:00

I have always been a very impressionable person. Call it weak-mindedness if you must, but it's true; my suggestible nature has a history for nearly getting me into trouble. After watching The Mighty Ducks, I got it into my head that playing hockey was part of my destiny. Luckily, my mom had the sense to derail that ambition early on, as my combined lack of physical coordination and the rigidity of cold, hard ice would not have mixed. I recently watched a wiry woman at the gym use a wall to balance herself in a handstand and execute the first and only upside-down push-ups I have ever witnessed. I toyed with the idea of attempting them myself, but thankfully, my boyfriend ensured me that such a venture was more likely to land me in the hospital than in annals of history as a victorious athlete.

Alas, there are times when even my ever-vigilant friends and family cannot prevent me from plunging headfirst over the Ledge of Bad Decisions. When I was seven years old, there seemed to be a neverending stream of television commercials advertising products that detangle the unruly locks of the everyday woman. They all followed the same formula, showing a frustrated lady with a comb or brush hopelessly entangled in her hair, lamenting the "tangles and knots." This image was of course followed by a depiction of the miracle-working product and the woman easily executing her desired grooming.

Any rational child would be inspired to complain to her mother, begging her to buy said product, in order to deal with her own tangles and knots. But along with my tendency for suggestibility, I have always also harbored intense impatience. So rather than wait for mom to show up, I instead took a pair of blue-handled kid scissors, meandered over to the nearest trash can, and bitterly cut out each of the knots I found in my own hair. The stupidity of said act didn't even occur to me until my parents suspiciously asked me how large clumps of my hair had somehow ended up at the bottom of our plastic (and regrettably translucent) trash bag. Rats. So I ended up with a compulsory trip to the hairdresser and a pixie-ish new cut, which left me looking like a boy. As did my long-suffering younger sister, for the sake of sibling matchery. Poor girl.

These days, my whims have far fewer drastic consequences. In fact, I thank my lingering suggestibility for these Fleur de Sel Caramels -- without it, Ina Garten's delicious treat would never have tempted me for a moment. The caramels are incredibly soft and rich, but the sweetness is well-balanced because of the salt both in and on the candies. Ina makes hers absolutely enormous, but I found that cutting them smaller made me enjoy them much more. Plus, then you have more to give as gifts. Particularly if you owe someone bigtime for causing her to endure an unattractive haircut for a key year of her youth. Whoops.

Fleur de Sel Caramels

Adapted from Ina Garten

Equipment needed:

Deep saucepan (as the caramel will bubble up violently at one point in the process, so high sides are needed to prevent messes and burns)

Small saucepan (for cream/butter/salt mixture)

Candy thermometer (can be found at kitchen supply stores, as well as some grocery stores)

8" x 8" baking pan, lined with parchment paper and lightly oiled with vegetable oil

Shopping notes:

- Fleur de sel is a fancy French sea salt, but regular sea salt will work nicely instead of the fleur de sel

- Heavy cream spoils very quickly, so unless you have another recipe on hand to use up the heavy cream (sometimes also billed in the grocery store as whipping cream), I would recommend buying the smallest container the store has to offer. Just make sure that it contains at least 1 cup.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup light corn syrup

1/2 cup water

1 cup heavy cream

5 TBS butter

1 tsp fleur de sel or sea salt

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Directions:

1. Bring cream, butter, and 1 tsp fleur de sel to a simmer in a small saucepan on one burner of your stove, over medium heat. This took a while for me, so I started it on my smaller burner while the sugar/corn syrup/water mixture came to a boil on the larger burner.

2. While the cream/butter/salt mixture is coming to a simmer, combine the granulated sugar, corn syrup, and 1/2 cup water in the deep saucepan and bring to a boil over medium heat.

3. When the sugar/corn syrup/water mixture turns a warm, chestnut brown color (warning, this can happen pretty quickly after remaining colorless while boiling for a few minutes), carefully and slowly add the cream mixture from the other saucepan into the deep saucepan. (WARNING: The contents of the deep saucepan will bubble up violently when the cream mixture is added.) Once the bubbling settles a bit, stir in the vanilla extract with a wooden spoon and cook over medium heat for ~5-10 minutes. While it is cooking, swirl the pan rather than stirring the mixture. Insert the candy thermometer and keep an eye on the temperature. Also remember that the mixture will continue to cook when removed from the burner. Your goal temperature is 248 degrees F. As soon as the thermometer hits 248, carefully pour the hot caramel into the prepared pan and refrigerate until firm.

4. When the caramels are cool, use the parchment paper to pry the sheet from the pan onto a cutting board. Starting at one end, roll the caramel up tightly until you've rolled up 1/3 of the sheet. Cut the sheet across, then roll the second third tightly, cut the sheet across again (severing the rolled part from the flat part), and roll the last third tightly. You will have 3 8" logs. Sprinkle all logs lightly with additional fleur de sel, and cut the logs into pieces of your desired size. Store in the refrigerator or at room temperature. Yields ~40 caramels

Chocolate Zucchini Cake

2009-05-13T14:04:00.000-07:00

Growing up, my mom used to read to my sister and me religiously. And although some parents read to their children out of obligation (though sometimes, I’m sure she was tired enough to feel it more of a chore than a pleasure), she never failed to deliver an artful performance. Her rendition of each tale was so lively, so engaging, and so faithful, that our favorite bedtime stories became more like call-and-answer interactive theater than simple recitation. We began to love reading before we could do it ourselves, just because we knew that no matter what, every year, The Whos down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot – but the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, DID NOT. Upon the conclusion of each reading, it was easy to fall asleep knowing that things would always turn out as they should. And really, isn’t that feeling what all moms strive to give their children?

Mom’s consistency in the enthusiasm of her reading was matched only by the consistently high quality of her chocolate cakes. For many, many birthdays, I can think of only ever wanting the chocolate sour cream cake she would bake for holidays, family gatherings, and any other such occasion. Eating a cake so rich, moist, and covered in a dark frosting would make me suspect that I was breaking some rule somewhere, but for my family’s encouraging smiles. Taking a bite of that prized sweet never failed to make me feel that no matter what chaos ensued in the universe (though really, what chaos could there be when I was six), Mom and her cake would always make things right again.

So now that Mother’s Day has passed, I suppose it is easy to lose sight of the maternal influences that were recently and briefly thrown into such sharp flower-ordering, brunch-reservationing relief. Luckily for me, my strongest mom associations have nothing to do with special-occasion flowers or fancy restaurants, but everything to do with the humble, homemade chocolate cake. And it is with this Chocolate Zucchini Cake that I remind myself that someday, when I have kids of my own and that clever old Grinch tries to steal Christmas again, I hope to have half my mom's ability to reassure them that it will all come out right in the end. And if I don't -- at least Grandma can make them a consolation dessert.

Chocolate Zucchini Cake

Adapted from Epicurious

Notes: This cake is dense and rich, and doesn't taste at all like vegetables. It seems the zucchini just serves to make the cake moist, and give it a good texture. It was a bit much with the frosting, but I've included the recipe anyway. It might be best as a snack cake in a single layer in a large rectangular pan rather than a layer cake, with a layer of cream cheese frosting.

Ingredients:

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour -- you can use all regular flour if you don't have any whole wheat
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup applesauce
1/4 cup vegetable oil
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 cups grated unpeeled zucchini (about 2 1/2 medium) -- make sure to squeeze the water out of this (after measuring) before you add it to the cake
1 6-ounce package (about 1 cup) semisweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup chopped walnuts

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 325°F. Butter and flour (with cocoa powder) 13 x 9 x 2-inch baking pan OR two 8-inch round baking pans for a layer cake.
2. Sift flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt into medium bowl.
3. Beat sugar, applesauce, and oil in large bowl with a wooden spoon until well blended. Add eggs 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla extract.
4. Mix in dry ingredients alternately with buttermilk in 3 additions each. Mix in grated zucchini, mix in chocolate chips and nuts. Pour batter into prepared pan.
5. Bake cake until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 50 minutes. Cool cake completely in pan.
6. If desired, frost cake.

Chocolate Frosting (just enough to go between 2 round layers and on top, not the sides)

~3.5-4 oz semisweet or bittersweet chocolate

2 TBS butter, softened
1 cup powdered sugar
tiny pinch salt
2 TBS milk
1 tsp vanilla

1. Melt chocolate in microwave (as suits your machine -- I like to start with 20-sec increments and then decrease to 10-15 as it melts further). Take breaks between heating to stir.
2. Once chocolate is melted, add butter to the bowl and mix with a spoon until melted and combined.
3. Add vanilla and mix until combined, then do the same with the milk and the salt.
4. Sift powdered sugar into the chocolate mixture and still until smooth and combined. Let cool a bit before using on cake.

Ugly Sweets Containing Chocolate Chips and Butter

2009-05-07T19:54:00.000-07:00

I am convinced that somewhere there exists an alternate universe, parallel to our own, in which all things are aptly described and named. Firefighters drive around in vehicles known as "put OUT the fire" trucks. "Table scraps" are, in fact, little scraps of table. And all homes have retractable tops that roll back to reveal large, soft pillows to cushion the matrimonial downpour at every forecast of a "bridal shower."

But perhaps most importantly, the cookies whose recipe I am highlighting are not called "Chocolate Chunk Cookies" (as so misleadingly labeled by Mark Bittman,) but instead "Malformed Munchies." I mean, look at them. They are misshapen hunks of dough stuck in an oven for 6 minutes. Are they edible? Yes. Tasty? When not burning on the edges because of the ridiculously inconvenient shape into which the recipe instructs you to form them, yes. Cookies? I think that's a bit of a stretch. Try them yourself and see if you get any different results. Though admittedly, I made one small adjustment, which was to use 2/3 c brown sugar and 1/3 c white sugar instead of the recipe's recommended 1 c white sugar. So maybe in that alternate universe, I'm called, "Complains About Recipes When Really, She Can't Follow Directions." The world may never know.

Macaron Madness

2009-04-13T20:52:00.000-07:00

I've never been a fan of fancy baking. The thought of attempting anything involving poaching fruits, puff pastry, or yeast makes me break out in hives. For a long time, I justified my avoidance of such projects by deeming myself some sort of populist baker. Only cookies, brownies, and other such sweets of the masses! But of course, some part of me was just afraid.

So when I received an invitation to prepare dessert for a fancy pre-Easter shindig, I was a bit nervous when deciding exactly what to make. The party hosts are, in my mind, culinary hard-hitters; after a meal of gratins, leek salad, puff pastry appetizer tarts, and the most delicious beef tenderloin I would ever eat, chocolate chip cookies just wouldn't do. It was only logical, then, that I venture into the netherworld of fussy, fancy baking.

Luckily, I didn't have to strike forth into the beyond unarmed; I had my love of the Rocky movies to protect me. For some reason, I find strength in deeming each of the major challenges in my life as my new Ivan Drago -- dreaded enemy of the Italian Stallion and free market economies, as depicted in Rocky IV. And so, I embarked upon my own dessert training montage, filled with powdered sugar, ground almonds, and meringues that failed in ways heretofore unknown to mankind. But two weeks, 9 batches of macaron shells, and one test cake later, I found myself face-to-face with my dessert destiny. Here's what I managed to produce:

Plain macaron shells with dulce de leche buttercream
Purple macaron shells with white chocolate vanilla ganache and a bit of raspberry jam
Pink macaron shells with strawberry buttercream
Coffee macaron shells filled with bittersweet espresso ganache
Green pistachio macaron shells filled with vanilla honey buttercream
One l emon curd cake with fresh strawberries
One lemon curd cake with fresh raspberries

Don't begin to be impressed -- each had their own flaws. But I believe this trial by fire did leave me a better person, if not a flawless pastry chef. After all, when I started out, I was petrified of failure. And now that he and I have become better acquainted (much better acquainted), I'm not afraid anymore. So if you've ever been frightened by an equally potentially disastrous situation in the past, make sure to face it head-on -- no matter how counterinuitive it may seem. Because if I can change, you can change. We can all change.

Macarons: My First Attempts

2009-03-24T19:52:00.000-07:00

When I find that I have gotten in over my head on a particular adventure, baking or otherwise, I recall the first day when I realized the important difference between theory and practice. Both my grandfathers were gardeners, so growing up, I took special pride in the beautiful roses we had lining our driveway. And as anyone who's grown roses will know, aphids are their number one enemy. As Eric Carle so nicely described in his book, The Grouchy Ladybug, aphids are small green bugs that like to snack on roses and will ravage them, leaving them full of holes. But fear not -- ladybugs come to the rescue! Ladybugs eat aphids, and therefore are friends of the roses and the people who love them. Carle encourages people to appreciate the ladybugs who tend to the flowers, and I always did.

One day, when my family sought to address the too-thriving aphid community that had settled in on our rose bushes, we took a trip to a nursery and bought a container of ladybugs. Live ones. There was a layer of mesh at the top of the container to allow them to breathe, and as my fat little kid hands held onto that cylinder of floral salvation, I could hardly believe that there were really hundreds of hungry creatures inside readying themselves for the greatest feast of their ladybug lives.

When we finally arrived back at the house (the anticipation was killing me!), we stood right by the rose bushes and let out a gasp of awe as we opened the lid. Slowly at first, and then in droves, the ladybugs shook themselves free and streamed out of the container. The only problem was that most of them were so happy to be free, they simply flew away. I had imagined our rose bushes covered in grateful ladybugs eager to demonstrate their allegiance by chowing down on the aphids, but alas! Most of them hung out on the side of the house or decided to visit the neighbors down the street. The difference between theory and practice. But to me, it was still worth it just to see all those ladybugs.

And now that I'm old enough to know better, I still find myself elbow-deep in similarly overwhelming situations from time to time. In this case, French macarons are my can full of ladybugs. In the last few months, I've made a few attempts (at least 5, 2 of them in one night), and none have been 100 % successful. But for now, I'm just trying to keep at it. Because when all is said and done, I just know I will end up with perfect, tasty macarons -- and those, in my opinion, are even better than roses.

Coconut Thins

2009-02-23T19:29:00.000-08:00

For reasons I cannot begin to explain, I have always been an early riser. I have several memories from when I was very young of being up at 6 am, before the good cartoons were on and long before my sister (with whom I shared a room) would be active. So I would sit on the floor, reading by the scant rays cast from the nightlight, until the rest of the world came to life. And to think, I was surprised when I found I needed to get glasses!

At the time, I felt there was no reason for me to have such a natural inclination to be awake when everyone else was still pulling the covers over their heads to keep the sunlight out. Perhaps waking early as an adult had its advantages, but as a kid, it seemed mostly to be a curse. That is, until the day I was vindicated by a cold, hard truth of baking: if you want to buy the freshest, most delicious goods, you need to be the first one through the bakery door. You don't have to have ever baked in your life to know the difference between a donut bought and eaten and 8 a.m. versus one attained in the afternoon -- or worse, one bought in the morning and sitting in the open air in the pink bakery box with the lid ajar.

And suddenly, life was clear. Lucky for me, my parents are both fairly early risers (and definite breakfast enthusiasts), and soon a world of donuts, bagels, and other baked morning delights revealed itself to me. I often think that there are few greater joys than being in charge of the tongs as you load piece upon piece of fresh, fragrant pan dulce onto the metal tray being held by an accommodating parent -- or, as you get older, significant other. Or anyone willing to put up with the task.

So perhaps being up with the sun wasn't so bad after all. Nowadays, I take advantage of the time even further, and set out a few sticks of butter to rest and begin to soften as I go about my breakfasting and other chores. By late morning, my ingredients are all ready for me to begin concocting baked goods of my own, and the coconut cookies highlighted below were the product of one such recent venture. They are light and buttery, with the coconut flavor as more of a hint to your tastebuds as opposed to a frank statement. If you're a coconut fan, I would recommend remedying this subtlety by adding 1 tsp of coconut extract, and/or toasting the coconut a bit before using it. All in all though, a delicious product of an "oh-dark-thirty" investment.

But if you yourself are not an early riser, don't despair. Waking up at obscene hours every day, or even every weekend day, may not be worth it for everyone. Just once in a while, when you're really seeking something special to make leaving your bed worth it, design upon your favorite breakfast bakery and set an alarm. Because I don't care what Benjamin Franklin says -- in my book, "Early to bed and early to rise... yields both tasty donuts and bags 'neath your eyes."

Coconut Thins
Adapted from Cook's Illustrated "Cookies" Magazine (called Coconut Sables there, but I didn't think the name quite fit for what the recipe produced)
Yields about 80 2-inch cookies

Ingredients:
2 1/2 oz (2/3 cup) finely ground almonds
2 1/2 oz (1 cup) unsweetened shredded coconut (can be found at Whole Foods and other health stores)
10 oz. (2 1/4 cups) all-purpose flour 10 oz.
(20 TBS) unsalted butter, softened at room temperature
5 oz. (1 1/3 cups) confectioners' sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1/2 tsp table salt
1 large egg, at room temperature

Directions:
1. In a medium bowl, blend the almonds, coconut, and flour; set aside.

2. Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or in a large bowl with a hand mixer), beat the butter on medium speed until soft and creamy. Add the contectioners' sugar and salt; mix on medium-low speed until thoroughly combined, about 5 minutes, scraping down the bowl as needed.

3. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the egg and the vanilla; mix until incorporated.

4. Turn off the mixer and switch to using a wooden spoon to slowly add the flour mixture (in three parts) and mix until the dough just comes together.

5. Portion the dough into three equal pieces. Roll each piece between two sheets of wax paper to about 1/8 inch think. Transfer the dough, still between the parchment, to baking sheets and chill in the freezer for about 30 minutes.

6. Heat the oven to 375 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. When the dough is quite firm, peel off the top sheet of wax paper and cut out shapes with a cookie cutter. Lay the cookies 1/2 inch apart on the parchment-lined baking sheet. Reroll the scraps, chilling first if necessary.

7. Bake the cookies, one tray at a time on a rack in the center of the oven, until light and golden around the edges (8-10 minutes), rotating the sheet halfway through. Let stand on the baking sheet until cool enough to handle (about 10 minutes) and then transfer the cookies to a rack to finish cooling.

Chocolate-Dipped Espresso Shortbread

2009-02-12T18:57:00.000-08:00

There are many epic mysteries floating around the universe when you're very young. Why do grown-ups think that by spelling out a word, I'm not going to know what it means? Why does everyone hate politicians? But perhaps the most fascinating question of all for little me was this: How can any adult possibly be unhappy, with all the mail they receive?

Every day I would come home and empty the mailbox and place what seemed to be an enormous stack of envelopes on the table, all addressed to my parents, and sigh with envy. How popular they must be! And even when my dad explained that most of it was junk and bills, some part of me didn't believe that any mail could be a source of stress rather than joy.

The foundation of this misconception was, of course, the Valentine's day ritual where each of us were required to assemble small makeshift mailboxes to place on our desks to house all the wonderful Valentines. Sure, you ended up with an assortment of storebought pieces of cardboard with various pop culture emblems on them, but sometimes people wrote personal notes! And even better than knowing that I was nice, good at math, or shared my lunch with people .... was getting those envelopes with a bulge in them for the candy stuffed in!

So for those of you who appreciated the Valentine sweets as much as I did, below are two Valentine cookie recipes. May everyone get much love -- and much mail!

The recipe for the sugar cookies can be found here -- I simply replaced one of the tsp of vanilla with lemon extract and added the zest of one lemon.

Chocolate-Dipped Espresso Shortbread

Adapted from Cook's Illustrated Cookie magazine

Yields about 4 dozen small heart-shaped cookies

For the cookies:
1/2 lb (1 cup) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. table salt
10 oz (2 1/4 cups) all-purpose flour
1 TBS espresso powder
1 tsp vanilla extract

Directions:

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F and place one rack in the middle of the oven.

1. In a large bowl, place the flour and the espresso powder and combine using a wire whisk. Set aside.

2. Using a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment (or in a large bowl with a hand mixer), combine the butter, sugar, and salt on low speed until the butter combines with the sugar but isn't perfectly smooth, 1 to 2 minutes. Add in the vanilla extract and combine briefly.

3. Add the flour and espresso powder mixture to the wet ingredients in 3 parts, stirring until just combined using a wooden spoon -- do not overmix.

4. On a lightly floured surface or a large piece of wax paper, knead the dough once or twice to bring together. Using a lightly floured rolling pin, roll the dough to be about 1/4-inch thick, turning the dough occasionally to ensure it does not stick to the surface.

5. Use a cookie cutter (lightly floured, if necessary) to cut the dough into shapes and place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, ~ 2 inches apart or slightly less, depending on the size of your cutouts. Make sure to use only one sized cutter for one baking sheet full of cookies to ensure even baking.

6. Bake the cookies until golden on the bottom and edges and pale to golden on top, 20-30 minutes to an hour (I did my first check at 10, to rotate the pan -- this may vary for you depending on the oven). These cookies are done when the tops look dry and the color has darkened slightly. Follow the same rolling, cutting, and baking procedure for the rest of the dough and place cookies on racks to cool.

7. Once the cookies have cooled, set a sheet of parchment or waxed paper on a work surface. Put the chocolate and shortening in a small heatproof bowl and set the bowl over a pan of simmering water. Melt the chocolate, stirring, until it's smooth.

8. Dip half of each cookie into the chocolate. Set the cookies on the parchment and let the chocolate set up at room temperature, about 2 hours (do not skimp on this time or you will have a Valentine mess!)

Vanilla-Maple Butter Cookies

2009-01-27T19:13:00.000-08:00

When great chefs are interviewed, they often recall that as children, they were always helping out in the kitchen. They wanted to learn, experiment, and become familiar with that mysterious act of creating good food from everyday ingredients. It is then telling that when I was a child, I had little to no desire to learn to cook. I was a bit more interested in being a part of the baking process, but even then I'd mostly stir something for two minutes and then get tired of it and revert back to my default "Call me when it's done" self.

Yes, I confess, I have few memories of actively wanting to bake when I was very young. I do, however, distinctly recall every mention of a baked good in the books I read. Those were always my favorite parts of the stories, and twenty-some years later, they're pretty much all I remember. In Frances Hodgson Burnett's "A Little Princess," I got my greatest thrill when the poor protagonist finds some money in the street and uses it to buy fresh, sweet rolls from a bakery nearby, only to give them to a little homeless girl (now that's willpower!). In "Curious George Flies a Kite," I remember absolutely nothing of the kite-flying -- instead, I remember being furious when George decides to go fishing and uses pieces of chocolate cake for bait. What a waste of cake!

Perhaps the most well-known baked-sweet story to people of my age was, of course, "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie." Although I loved the circuitous tale of the very demanding rodent who inexplicably wears very tiny suspenders, some part of me would have been perfectly content if the story were shorter and more realistic. Now, when I say "realistic," I do not mean something like, "If you give a mouse a cookie...... he is going to bring in one thousand of his friends and relations and eat you out of house and home." No, I was never that logical. But from time to time, I'd let my brain wander and imagine how the story would unfold if I had written it my way -- though I could never quite decide how it would end.

So although I was not kitchen-precocious, it seems that my love for baking has always existed, even before I was aware of it. More often than not, when I'm quiet and put on my thinking face, I'm pondering what sort of things I can bake in the few hours I have between coming home from work and going to bed. Or, as in the recipe below, wondering how to transform the memory of a delicious ice cream cone enjoyed in Quebec (vanilla ice cream with swirls of maple in a chocolate-dipped cone with nuts) into a cookie. I ended up deciding to omit the chocolate, for fear that it would dominate the delicate caramelized flavor of the cookie, and I think it was the right choice. The resulting cookie is extraordinarily buttery and, when baked until just golden, delightfully crisp. Perfect for accompanying milk, vanilla ice cream, tea, or just plain.

The young me probably would have scoffed at the idea of eating a maple cookie (unless there was a pancake cookie to accompany it), and would almost certainly have scoffed at the idea of spending time to make one. But that's one of the joys of growing up -- things that were once fuzzy become clear. Because now that I'm older, I have finally figured out how the story would have played out if I had written it. It would've gone something like this:

"If you give a mouse a cookie .... he will live happily ever after."
[The End]

Vanilla-Maple Butter Cookies

Adapted from Alice Medrich's butter cookie recipe in her book, "Cookies and Brownies"

Ingredients:

16 TBS unsalted butter, softened
~ 1 1/8 cup maple sugar (pricey, but worth it -- can be found at Whole Foods Market)
3/4 cup pecans, chopped
the contents of 1 vanilla bean, scraped out with a sharp knife
1/2 tsp. salt
2 cups flour
a bit less than 1/4 cup large maple sugar granules (can also be found at Whole Foods -- not the chunks, just bigger than the fine-ground sugar)

Directions:
1. In a large bowl, beat butter until smooth using wooden spoon.
2. Cream butter, maple sugar (the finely ground one, 1 1/8 cup), salt, and vanilla until smooth and creamy but not fluffy, using a wooden spoon.
3. In a separate medium-sized bowl, sift flour using a wire whisk. Add large maple sugar granules and pecan pieces, and mix further using the whisk.
4. In 3 parts, slowly combine the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients with the wooden spoon, until just incorporated. [This may take a bit of effort.]
5. On a clean surface or a large piece of plastic wrap, knead the dough a couple of times to make sure it's smooth and combined.
6. Divide the dough in half and shape each half into a round log, ~ 2 inches in diameter. Wrap each log separately in plastic wrap. Chill for at least 3 hours, preferably overnight.

-- When you're soon going to be ready to bake --

7. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. If you want a lighter cookie, bake ~12-14 minutes, or until light brown at the edges. If you want a more caramelized cookie, bake a few minutes longer, keeping a watchful eye to make sure they don't burn, until they turn a bit golden and your kitchen smells so mapley that you become convinced you've been magically transformed into a waffle.

Yield: ~ 40 cookies

Orange Hazelnut Biscotti

2009-01-21T18:51:00.000-08:00

There are two kinds of picky eaters. The first kind will give most anything a try, but will only enjoy a very small percentage of tastes and textures. Sometimes they can help it, sometimes they can't -- genetics often makes people predisposed to disliking sweeping categories of food, such as with the elusive Supertaster. But whatever the reason, hey, at least they tried.

The second kind of picky eater, however, can definitely help it. People might call them picky, but the truth is, they just won't try anything that doesn't appeal to them. Sometimes it's the visual cues, sometimes it's the smell, and occasionally it's even post-traumatic food disorder when you once tried something that looked good but turned out to be awful (flashback to me being 6 years old and biting into a piece of radish in a salad that I mistook for an apple). The details vary, but the general idea is always the same -- some part of you is afraid. And unless you're prone to food allergies, it's usually without reason.

This is all a preface to the admission that I was, of course, a picky eater -- the second (and in my opinion, worst) kind. I had numerous rules, which were entirely self-created, since my parents and sister were adventurous eaters and the food we enjoyed both inside and outside the house was quite varied. Rule number one: nothing green. I cringe thinking of my faithful execution of this rule, including the way I would avoid the floating chopped scallion in Chinese noodle soup dishes that I realize today gives it extra flavor. Rule number two: nothing with a funny texture. Mushrooms were out of the question, and for years I would only eat the outside of steamed chiasiu bau and never touch the sweet, delicious pork inside. Rule number three: nothing that resembles something I already know I dislike.

It was because of this last fateful rule that poor hazelnuts got a bad rap in my twisted little brain. If you'd asked me what I didn't like about the taste, I couldn't tell you because I'd never try them -- but they closely resembled garbanzo beans in color and shape. So ix-nay on the azelnuts-hay.

Looking back now, I'm happy to say I grew out of all that nonsense. I suspect, however, that if I'd had a taste of these Orange Hazelnut Biscotti, my whole world view would've changed -- I could've skipped through that whole stupid picky phase.

This is the result of clever juxtaposition of several recipes, thanks to my mom. The recipe yields a crunchy, slightly crumbly texture (which I love, but just reduce the amount of hazelnut meal if you don't like it that way) and a delicious citrusy flavor on the nutty-but-not-bitter hazelnut backdrop. My mom drizzles them with melted semi-sweet chocolate, but I actually enjoy them plain.

Orange Hazelnut Biscotti

2 cups whole hazelnuts, roasted and skins rubbed off
½ cup additional whole hazelnuts, roasted and skins rubbed off
2 1/2 cups flour
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
2/3 cups unsalted butter, slightly softened
1 cup granulated sugar
3 eggs
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
1-1/2 teaspoons orange extract
1 tablespoon grated orange peel

2 squares semi-sweet chocolate for drizzling, if you so choose

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Take 2 TBS of the 1 cup sugar, and combine it with the separated 1/2 cup of hazelnuts in a food processor. Process on the pulse setting until you've got hazelnut meal -- the nuts should be ground very small, but not so small as to be the consistency of dust. Be careful not to overpulse, or you may end up with hazelnut butter.

Combine flour, the newly created hazelnut meal, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

In a separate bowl combine butter and sugar (the 1 cup minus 2 TBS). Beat until well blended. Add eggs, orange peel, orange extract and vanilla and beat until light and fluffy.
Gradually beat in half of dry ingredients. Stir in remaining flour mixture. Add nuts.

Divide dough in half. Shape each half into a log about 11 inches long and 2 inches in diameter. (Easier to shape by rolling in wax paper and rolling directly onto baking sheet.)

Place logs on greased baking sheet (or baking sheet lined with parchment paper) as far apart as possible. Flatten slightly.

Bake for 25 to 28 minutes. Let stand until completely cool (about 30 minutes). Cut logs diagonally into half-inch slices using sharp knife.

Lay slices flat on baking sheet and return to oven and toast for 5 to 7 minutes. Turn over slices and bake 4 to 5 minutes on second side, cooking for additional time as needed (you'll need to play this by ear -- just make sure they're not raw in the middle). Cool on wire racks.

Hazelnut Mocha Cookies

2008-12-20T13:51:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I feel that the world of baking has gotten out of control. In search of something new and exciting, increasingly more magazines, cookbooks, and yes, even blogs, have been showcasing excessively "decadent" (read: overdone) dessert recipes. I love a bit of indulgence just as much as the next person, but when I'm beseiged by a horde of Triple Chocolate Caramel Fudge monstrosities, my taste buds shrink in fear.

There's an entire new genre of such baked goods, whose descriptions seem the baking equivalent to letting 4-year-olds pick their own names. Only instead of a world of Princess Rainbow Unicorns and Optimus Michaelangelo Squarepants (forgive the gendered examples), you're left with Banana Berry Brownie Pizza and Coconut Marshmallow Cream Meringue Pie.

So when I glanced at the many varied ingredients for these cookies, I was instantly suspicious. Peanut butter, espresso powder, chocolate, oats, AND hazelnuts? But I was surprised to find that it all came together very nicely in a large, chewy cookie with the air of a regular chocolate chip cookie who just returned after hitchhiking through Western Europe -- simultaneously more worldly (the espresso powder and hazelnuts) and more down-to-earth (the peanut butter and whole wheat flour). I can't quite explain it, but if you're looking for a tasty cookie that doesn't blast your brains out with sweetness, give this a try.

Hazelnut Mocha Cookies
Adapted from Better Homes & Gardens' Christmas Cookies Magazine, 2008

Ingredients:

1 TBS instant espresso powder
1 TBS water
1 1/2 cups smooth peanut butter
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups brown sugar, packed
1 1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
2 eggs
1 1/8 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups regular rolled oats (I use old-fashioned)
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup dark chocolate pieces (I use ~5 oz chopped bittersweet chocolate)
1 cup hazelnuts, toasted and chopped

To toast hazelnuts:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees, F. Spread nuts in a single layer in a shallow baking pan (or on a baking sheet lined with foil).
2. Bake nuts for ~10 minutes (or ~14, if the nuts were stored in the freezer), stirring once.
3. Place the warm nuts on a clean kitchen towel. Rub the nuts with the towel to remove the loose skins. Let cool and chop. Set aside.

To assemble and bake cookies:
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, F. In a small bowl, stir together espresso powder and the water until powder dissolves; set aside.

2. In a large bowl, combine butter and peanut butter with a wooden spoon until well mixed. Add brown sugar, baking soda, and salt. Beat until combined. Beat in eggs, vanilla, and espresso mixture until combined. Beat in oats. Beat in flour. Stir in chocolate pieces and hazelnuts.

3. Drop dough from a 1/4 cup measure (I roll it into balls), 3 inches apart onto an ungreased cookie sheet (line them with parchment paper for ease of clean-up); press each ball slightly.

4. Bake for 13 to 15 minutes, or until edges are lightly browned. Be careful not to overbake. Cool on cookie sheet for ~2 minutes. Transfer cookies to a wire rack; let cool.

Yield: ~24 mondo-large cookies.

To store: Layer cookies between sheets of wax paper in an airtight container; cover. Store at room temperature or freeze for up to 3 months (and when you're ready to serve them, let them thaw on the counter for a few hours until they come to room temperature).

Cookie Extravaganza, Part I: Finska Pinnar

2008-12-14T20:14:00.000-08:00

Christmastime is a season of giving, of loving, and appreciating. But most of all, it is a season of baking cookies until you reach the point of collapse. Or at least, that's how it's always been at my house. Every year, the kitchen would transform into a cookie factory in the days leading up to the holiday. And while the baked sweets were of course delicious and exceptionally pretty, they were also a mechanism of extraordinary power. For everyone knows that the better your cookies are, the more Santa will recognize how good you've been.

No one was more cognizant of this power than she who wielded it, the great Baker of Cookies and High Priestess of the Altar of the Claus. Or as we like to call her, Mom. One of my earliest Christmas memories was of being in kindergarten, executing a homework assignment to write a letter to Santa. These letters would presumably be sent to the North Pole upon completion, though how my teacher had an in with the big guy I never quite understood.

So there I was, sitting at the table, writing on the scratchy-as-pure-wood-shavings recycled paper they give to 5 year-olds, and wondering what I wanted. I decided I wanted a pet snake (don't ask). I believe I was reading it to my mom as I was writing, indicating that for Christmas I would please like "a snake and snake food." After the slightly dismaying revelation that "snake food" consists of live rodentia, I was a little disgusted, but undeterred. Until Mom uttered the fatal words: "If Santa brings you a pet snake, I'm never baking him another cookie again." And suddenly -- poof! -- desire for a snake, gone!

I don't remember what it was I asked for instead, but I remember feeling no remorse, knowing that it was much better to pick one of the many other things that would make me happy than to jeopardize my standing up at the Pole. And now that I'm old enough to bake my own cookies (and old enough to know that a pet snake is a terrible idea for a kid as flighty as I was), I like to think of the delicate sugared butter cookies I make each year as both a bringer of joy and a bringer of peace. Joy to the kids I may someday have, who will hopefully (thanks to the cookies, of course) get what they want... and peace to me, should I ever need to wield my power if they ask for something similarly absurd/dangerous.

Cookie Summary:

A butter cookie topped with crystal sugar, this recipe is simple and delicious. There are no leavening agents added, and although the dough calls for egg yolk only, the decoration makes use of the egg white so nothing goes to waste. They are labor-intensive, in that the dough needs to chill and that it's a bit hard to work with when first removed from the fridge. But their taste makes them a standard in my family every year, and I don't mind the trouble when I get to pop a few into my mouth as a reward.

Finska Pinnar
Adapted from a recipe in the Los Angeles Times, with Mamafications

Yield: ~ 4 dozen small cookies

Ingredients:

1/2 lb. butter, softened (2 sticks)
1/2 cup sugar
1 egg, separated
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups flour
coarse "pearl" sugar (I like this kind, which can be found at Ikea)
crystal sugar of the colors of your choice

Directions:

1. In a large bowl, beat butter with a wooden spoon or mixer until creamy.
2. Beat in sugar and egg yolk (set egg white aside and refrigerate in a bowl, beneath plastic wrap). Add vanilla and mix in until combined.
3. Gradually work flour into the mixture to form a dough (I do it in about 3 or 4 parts).
4. Chill the dough for at least 2 hrs. Can be chilled up to 24 hours.

When you're ready to roll the dough:

Set out: baking sheets, parchment paper, wax paper for your work surface, pearl sugar, colored sugar, reserved egg white, a pastry brush, spoon, butter knife, and a bowl or shallow dish with sides

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

5. Lay out wax paper on a work surface and line baking sheets with parchment paper. Use a regular teaspoon to carve out smaller pieces of the big chilled chunk of dough to make it easier to work with. Using a few bits at a time (a small handful), quickly soften the dough slightly by kneading it between your fingers and palms. Then roll dough into ropes about 1/2" in diameter (these can be long or short, but I find making longer ones speeds up the decorating process) on the wax paper. Do not flour your surface, or your cookies will become dry. Wax paper will prevent sticking.
6. Set out the bowl or a shallow container with sides at least 1" high and mix a bit of the colored sugar with the pearl sugar. Use your discretion -- don't use all your colored and pearl sugar at once because they'll probably get dirtied with egg white.
7. Using a butter knife, cut the dough ropes into lengths about 1" long (about the length of your thumb). Use a pastry brush dipped in the egg white and lightly brush the tops of each of the pieces.
8. Before the egg white dries on the dough, dip each of the brushed pieces in the sugar mixture and place them on the lined baking sheet, with at least 1 " between them.
9. Baking one sheet at a time, bake the cookies for 15 to 20 minutes, or until the ones on the edge of the pan are SLIGHTLY golden at the edges. IT IS VERY EASY TO BURN THESE, so if your oven tends to run hot, check them instead at 13 minutes first. A good rule of thumb is to judge the smell -- when your kitchen starts to smell like cookies, that's a sign you should start preparing your cooling racks.

Quakers

2008-08-28T20:38:00.000-07:00

I have always marveled at the way that children are quick to form their own societies. I don’t mean in a “Lord of the Flies” sort of way, though I know there’s an aspect of that on every playground. No, my particular point of fascination is the way children form systems of exchange.

Nowhere else are these systems more prevalent than in elementary school cafeterias. Each item in one’s lunch has two possible kinds of utility: the utility you’ll get from consuming it yourself, and the utility it will bring when bargaining with the other kids for something better. The value of some items depends greatly on the market – in a sea of children with health-obsessed parents, something as plain as a cinnamon graham cracker could be the gold bullion of one’s lunchbox – but others have intrinsic absolute value. And at the top of this list are homemade cookies, especially those speckled with chocolate.

But oddly enough, I have no recollections of chocolate chip cookie exchanges because these featured cookies were my greatest form of currency. My mom’s combination of oats, walnuts, and coconut seems an unlikely favorite with kids – especially with ones as picky as I used to be. But I promise you on the sanctity of memory and the red Pound Puppies lunchbox I held so dear, these were exceedingly popular. And every time I make them, I secretly feel as though I’m operating my own private mint.

Quakers

Adapted from an Old Sturbridge pamphlet of cookie recipes

Ingredients:
2 cups dark brown sugar
1 cup shortening
2 eggs, beaten
2 cups sifted flour
3 cups rolled oats
1 ½ tsps. soda
1 tsp. salt
2 tsps. vanilla
1 cup shredded coconut
¾-1 cup chopped walnuts

Directions:
1. Preheat your oven to 375 degrees F.
2. Cream together the sugar and shortening in a large bowl using a wooden spoon.
3. Add beaten eggs and vanilla.
4. Sift flour with soda and salt, stir in oats, and stir in the dry ingredients into the batter. Beat well.
5. Add the coconut and walnuts and mix into the batter with a wooden spoon.
6. Put ¼ cup sugar into a small bowl. Dip fingers into the sugar, then pinch off a bit of dough and roll it to the size of a walnut (so says the original recipe – I make mine more slightly larger, about 1.25 inches in diameter). Dip the ball into the sugar.
7. Place balls on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper, about three inches apart. Press on each ball to flatten a bit with the palm of your hand.
8. Bake for 12-15 minutes.

Yield: ~4 dozen cookies

Blackberry-Peach Slump

2008-07-29T19:00:00.000-07:00

I believe that anyone who’s ever baked has some negative history with one particular baked good. I don’t mean one cookie that turned out lousy in a batch of 5 dozen – I mean one category of product that has consistently turned out disappointing. Or rather, I should be more frank: a product that always seems to end up a failure of epic proportions. Several years ago, my sister and aunt had just such a tempestuous relationship with Tarte Tatin. I’m not exactly sure what sparked the obsession, nor do I remember how many attempts they made. Just know that I have numerous memories of the two of them baking the tarts and no memories of eating the tarts. And when I’m not eating, you know it’s a bad sign.

I myself have had a similar relationship with cobbler. Although I’ve tried my hand at what feels like several versions, I have yet to have one come out right. Part of it has to do with the size of the pan I use, part of it has to do with my incompetence – but I like to think a great deal of it comes from my lack of an old passed-down-for-generations family recipe imbued with secrets that impart deliciousness upon a rather humble dessert.

Whatever the reason, my repeated failures caused me to create what I call the Cobbler Mystique: “I can do cookies, no problem! Cakes, okay! Cobbler – get someone else to do it!” The ultimate shame of course, is that I love eating cobbler. Wonderful use of fruit, a biscuity layer to contrast the sweetness and add a little texture, and it’s the perfect baked expression of summer.

So when a friend came over and we were thinking of trying something that involved fresh summer fruits, cobbler was the first thing that came to mind. I tried to suppress it, the thought of my past humiliations seeping over my brain like The Blob at that oddly crowded movie theater, but to no avail. It was the clear choice. Until he (my baking partner, not The Blob) showed me a recipe he’d found for “Blackberry-Peach Slump.” I read through the recipe a few times. It was all there: the use of fresh fruit, summery ingredients, a biscuity top. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it must be a cobbler, right? But no! It was a Slump! Whatever that is!

Suddenly, my fears dissipated, and those countless cobblers that were almost burned at the edges and raw in the middle faded as if from a long, drawn-out nightmare. We tried the recipe and it came together easily and enjoyably. With minimal modifications, we produced what I feel to be one of the greatest Slumps the world has ever seen. (Insert pun about a Slump coming from my cobbler slump here.) So if you’ve been having similar doubts, doubt no more. I may not be able to make a cobbler to save my life, but I guarantee this Slump recipe will make you feel pret-ty good about yourself – whether or not you deserve it.

Notes:
- I didn’t know what size pan to use, so I chose a standard rectangular cake pan and just added more fruit. My embarrassing admission is that I have no idea how much fruit I added, but I believe it was at least half a cup. When you mix the filling together, you’ll have quite a bit of juices, so it won’t hurt to add more fruit without adding more of anything else. Eyeball it.
- Vanilla beans are insanely expensive. I lacked them at the time, so I just added a teaspoon of vanilla extract instead when mixing the filling. If you’re determined to use vanilla beans though, buy them at Costco if possible – they’re much cheaper there than at specialty stores like Sur La Table.
- Make sure to keep the thickness of the biscuit discs uniform to ensure even baking. If your oven is notoriously inconsistent, I might remove and turn the tray around in the middle of baking.
- We used a combination of blackberries and raspberries to use with the stone fruit.
- The photos include both "before" and "after" baking pictures. I'm sorry they're bad -- the lighting in my kitchen is less than optimal. As are my photography skills.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

2008-07-22T19:56:00.000-07:00

There's a scene in The Giver (required reading for all 12 year-olds) where the protagonist is looking at an object, and suddenly it changes somehow. At first, you have no idea what's going on, until you realize that the boy has learned to see in color -- up to this point, he has been living in black and white.

Life seems to be full of such moments when, as Obi-Wan once said, you realize you've taken your first step into a larger world. I had such a moment this past Sunday. For some reason, I got it into my head that it would be a good idea to bake two different batches of oatmeal raisin cookies from two different recipes. At first, it made complete sense -- I didn't like the products of the first recipe, so I tried a second one. Logical, right?

Well, several hours, 5 cups of oats, 4 sticks of butter, and countless dishes later, I realized I had churned out about 5 dozen oatmeal raisin cookies. Five dozen cookies now sitting in my apartment. Where I live. Alone. And if that wasn't enough, the kicker was sitting on my living room floor -- a 9-pound box of Quaker Oats that I'd bought earlier that day. In fact, the act of purchasing it hadn't even seemed strange to me at the time. After all, a lunatic feels no shame at his lunacy; he doesn't think he's crazy.

I, on the other hand, know as I glance at that 9-lb box of oatmeal (now already less than 9 lbs, as I used quite a bit of it), that I have entered a Brave New World of baking. Now that I've tasted the sweetness of unmitigated baking fascination, I can't go back. And I don't think I'd ever want to.

Recipe notes:

- I am posting the recipe of the "better" cookies below, though my office mates preferred what I thought turned out to be the unsuccessful batch. The other recipe yielded products that tasted more like candy than cookies to me -- all butter and sugar, a caramelized flavor, but slightly greasy and too spread out and lacking a good taste to the dough part of the cookie. If you're still interested in them though, let me know and I'll get you the recipe
- I added walnuts to this recipe because who wants an oatmeal raisin cookie without nuts?! Except for those who are allergic, and to you I say: I am so, so sorry.
- I also added vanilla. To me, a cookie without vanilla is like my life without baking, which is to say generally drab, boring, and other words that mean the same thing -- un-fun.
- The resulting cookies were slightly crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside! Hooray! They had a great oat-y flavor and the nutmeg really complimented the oats nicely. Though I do think they could also benefit from a little cinnamon. On the whole, a delightful (albeit pale) cookie, and one I will certainly make again.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
Adapted from The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. nutmeg
16 TBS (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
3 cups old-fashioned oats (instant oats won’t taste as good)
1 ½ cups raisins
1 ½ cups chopped walnuts
1 tsp. vanilla

Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.
2. Whisk the flour, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg together in a medium bowl. Set aside.
3. In a large bowl, combine butter and sugars with an electric mixer or by hand with a wooden spoon until light and fluffy. Beat in the vanilla.
4. Beat in the eggs one at a time, mixing until combined.
5. In three parts, slowly mix in the flour mixture with a wooden spoon until just combined. Mix in the oats, raisins, and walnuts until just incorporated.
6. Using a regular dinner spoon to help you scoop out the dough, shape large/medium balls with your hands (~2 TBS) and place them on parchment paper on your baking sheets, ~ 2 ½ inches apart. Flatten each one a bit with the palm of your hand.
7. Place 2 baking sheets in the oven at a time and bake for 22-25 minutes, making sure to switch and rotate the trays halfway through the total baking time. Remove from oven when the cookies are lightly golden but the centers are still soft and puffy.
8. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheets for 10 minutes, then serve warm or transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

Yield: ~ 32 cookies

Chocolate Chip Cookies, Episode II

2008-07-19T19:42:00.000-07:00

The New York Times recently ran an article about chocolate chip cookies, touting that they had come upon the Holy Grail of chocolate chip cookie recipes. The food blog Serious Eats had a similar article about this. The internet is filled with the legends about the $250 cookie recipe, or debates about whether a chocolate chip cookie should be chewy or crispy or perhaps even a little bit of both. People have really torn each other to pieces over this topic. Did Ruth Graves Wakefield accidentally drop a bunch of chocolate pieces into her batter, or was it the purposeful act of a genius who would change our lives forever?

As far as I'm concerned, the swirling rumors and historical inaccuracies tend to add complexity to perhaps the greatest aspect of the chocolate chip cookie -- its simplicity. I doubt the world will ever agree upon which recipe is "best," considering that I am hard-pressed to think of another topic upon which we all agree. So you can take your panel of "chocolate chip cookie experts" and food historians and cookie chemists and the whole lot. I am not an expert, but I am looking for a cookie that:

- Is chewy in texture (due to the ingredients and techniques rather than to simple underbaking)
- Has some caramel/toffee notes in it
- Does NOT skimp on the chocolate or insist that it be in enormo-chunks or perfectly factory-ized chips
- Puffs up just a bit instead of being flat and runny
- Does not have nuts, but would be perfectly wonderful with the addition of something like walnuts or pecans
- Is large enough to feel substantial in your hand but NOT large enough to feed a small nation

In my ongoing quest to hit upon the perfect recipe to yield the cookie detailed above, this recipe is the closest I’ve yet come. I posted one version of this recipe before, but the one thing the NYTimes article imparted upon me was that the "chill the dough first" strategy was one worth exploring. I made a double batch of these (because my recipe usually yields a measly 2 dozen cookies), and, so sayeth Dinah Washington, "What a difference a day made." I mean, really. I couldn't be bothered to chill the batter for 36 hours -- what an odd period of time -- but a bit less than 24 hours seemed to do just fine. Oh and don't begin to be impressed, I did not come up with this recipe out of my little brain. It is a modified version of the Neiman Marcus one posted online at their website.

Chocolate Chip Cookies, v 2.0
Ingredients:
½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened
1 cup light brown sugar
3 TBS granulated sugar
1 large egg
2 tsps. vanilla extract
1 ¾ cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. instant espresso powder
1 ½ cups (~9 oz) chopped bittersweet chocolate

Directions:
1. Cream the butter with the sugars using a wooden spoon. Mix until homogenous.
2. Beat in the egg and vanilla extract with the wooden spoon. Add espresso powder and mix until evenly distributed.
3. In a separate bowl, combine flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder with a wire whisk.
4. Slowly add dry ingredients to wet ingredients in three parts and use wooden spoon to combine until dry ingredients are just incorporated.
5. Use a rubber spatula to gently incorporate chopped chocolate bits into the dough.
6. Chill dough for 24-36 hours.
7. When you’re ready to bake, preheat the oven to 300 degrees F and line baking sheets with parchment paper.
8. Using a teaspoon and your hands, form large rounded lumps of dough (~2 TBS each – it should feel like a small handful when rolling, about the size of a ping pong ball) and place them on your cookie sheets ~3 inches apart. Make sure to give them the proper space.
9. Bake for about 20 minutes or until cookies are starting to lightly brown at the edges. If you want your cookies soft and chewy, do not let the cookies themselves turn golden on top. Simply remove after ~23 minutes (checking periodically) and leave them on the sheet for a few minutes to let them continue cooking before removing them with a spatula and placing them on a wire rack to cool.

Blueberry Muffins

2008-07-16T21:31:00.000-07:00

When I was little, I assumed that all of my mom’s baking genius was rooted in the spiral-bound recipe book she kept in one of the kitchen shelves. Even though she had numerous recipes around the house, it always seemed to me that whenever she was making one of my favorite treats, the book was out there on the table, making sure everything turned out just right.

It was with the routine expectation of a gloriously successful product, then, that I set out to make her famous Sturbridge Blueberry Muffins – direct from the spiral notebook. I had copied the recipe by hand into a spiral notebook of my own when I got my first apartment. When I finally got to try one, I was beside myself with excitement. But alas! They were exactly like my mom’s…minus the flavor.

I called her up with the humility that only comes from a failed baking experiment, and whined that I must have followed the recipe incorrectly. There was a short pause on the receiver, then, “Hm… you know… I might have made a few changes to that recipe.” Wait wait wait CHANGES?! From the all-knowing BOOK?! As it turns out, my mom’s genius was not rooted in the book at all, but in – her genius. She made what a friend from my old office once termed “Mamafications.” There are some types of moms who deliberately alter recipes before distributing them to retain their family secrets, but mine isn’t one of them. When it comes to baking, she’s one of those intuitive individuals who just makes whatever changes she thinks are appropriate at that time. And they nearly always turn out fantastic. Phooey.

Okay so I haven’t inherited the talent for Mamafications, but I made a few changes of my own, and several mediocre batches later, here they are. They don’t photograph well, but they do make for a great breakfast. I am incredibly inept at making streusels, so instead I combine the topping ingredients into a bit of a paste and apply a little to each heap of batter prior to baking. This results in a sweet crust and a nicely shaped top over a moist, tender blueberry muffin.

Sturbridge Blueberry Muffins
(with norafications)

1 cup sugar
½ cup brown sugar
2 TBS baking powder
4 eggs
1 TBS salt
1 cup shortening
3 cups blueberries (whole)
1 cup milk
4 ½ cups flour

Topping Ingredients:
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup butter, cut into cubes
1/4 cup flour
1/8 tsp. cinnamon
1/8 tsp. nutmeg

Yield: 24 muffins

1. Put paper muffin liners in each cup of a 12-cup muffin tin (or paper two tins if you have two). Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.
2. Combine sugars and shortening in a large bowl with a wooden spoon.
3. Add the eggs and mix heartily with a wooden spoon until well blended. Add milk and stir until combined.
4. In a medium bowl, sift dry ingredients using a fork or a whisk. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients with minimal stirring. Mix until just combined.
5. Fold the berries into the batter using a rubber spatula.
6. Use two spoons to distribute half the batter evenly between the 12 muffin cups.
---
Topping Directions:
1. Sift flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg.
2. Combine butter and brown sugar with a fork.
3. Add dry ingredients to creamed butter/sugar mixture; combinue using fingers, and lightly pile paste evenly onto muffin batter (once divided between the cups in the tin) prior to baking.
---
7. Pop the tin into the oven and bake the muffins for 15 to 20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let the muffins cool in the pan for 5 minutes before removing them and setting them on wire racks to complete cooling.
8. Make sure to let the muffin tin cool before washing it out and putting the second set of cups in and filling them with the rest of the batter. Repeat the baking process.

Ici: Ice cream review (lament)

2008-07-11T19:24:00.000-07:00

My sister always used to tell my mom that she was impressed by my confident air that (presumably) implied I knew so much about life. Until the day she realized that I say everything with confidence -- even when I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Yes, it's true, I am a prime offender when it comes to speaking with conviction while lacking the necessary expertise to do such. Call it a quirk, call it a flaw, call it exceptionally annoying, whatever you like. In my quest for the best Berkeley ice cream, however, I've made the sad discovery that I am not the only one with this tendency.

The problem with living in a new city where you don't know anyone is that the only people whose opinions are available about food destinations are those on the unfiltered internet. This is not to say that I think of sites like Yelp and Chowhound as electronic hangouts for the Great Unwashed. What I mean is that you need people you trust to lead you to the best place for you. My boyfriend understands this better than anyone, in that every time I rave about a restaurant, his first question is, "Yes, but would I like it?" It takes an individual who knows you quite well to be able to answer that question, and unfortunately for me, none of those individuals are members of the online review boards.

This is all a big build-up for me to say that my experience at Ici, an outrageously popular ice cream establishment on College Avenue in Berkeley, was underwhelming. Yes, the owner was the former pastry chef at Chez Panisse. Yes, they boast exotic flavors like chickory-cinnamon, cardmom-rose, and lemon-thyme. And yes, my ice cream was tasty (one scoop of coffee ice cream in a cup -- it's cheating to get yours in a cone when reviewing a place, as ice cream nearly always tastes better in a cone).

BUT! My ice cream was not worlds better than any other ice cream place (except when compared to a place like ColdStone, my opinions on which could make me spontaneously combust). In fact, the first bite immediately made me wish I was eating the ice cream of Fosselman's instead. The texture was smooth and creamy, but I tasted more pure sweetness than coffee flavor, and I found myself thinking of it as the Nice Guy of ice cream. [As has often been said, girls tend to avoid dating the Nice Guy because he's all sweetness -- no edge, no complexity, no excitement.] Would I eat it if it was free? Certainly. Would I call it the best? Not by a long stretch.

The fact is, the simplest, most traditional flavors are the best ones by which to judge any ice cream joint because there's no novelty of the Gourmet Ice Cream Mad Libs that goes on nowadays. You know, [normal ice cream flavor] + [random trendy herb or spice] = [cutting edge]. Besides, if you find there's a combination that sounds great as a garnish for a steak (such as the "lemon-thyme" on the menu yesterday), isn't that a sign that it wouldn't make the best ice cream? So for now, I'm still on the lookout for a Berkeley standout.

Aunt Trish's Snickerdoodles

2008-06-17T18:41:00.000-07:00

It’s a sad truth that sometimes, the more people become enamored with the now very fashionable world of food, it’s easy to become a bit of a snob. And while I admire all those who only buy organic ingredients, grow their own vegetables, and measure out their flour by weight instead of by cups, sometimes I yearn for the simplicity of a recipe whose primary purpose is to give you something sweet and comforting, even without the righteous frills.

It was with this in mind that I sought out a recipe for Snickerdoodles – the cookie that has, over the years, elicited perhaps the maximum scoffs from the entire population at large. I’ve had a few over time, but none were quite what I wanted. Several were delightfully oversized but disappointingly dry, while others looked chewy but felt about as soft as biting into a porcelain plate. Perhaps in my quest to utilize fancy ingredients and namedrop famous pastry chefs, I lost track of that important homey quality. Fate, it seems, kept me from the perfect snickerdoodle until I could find it again.

Luckily, I received a much-needed dose of reality to check my heady baking rampages when I took a stab at a lemon strawberry cake that was an incredible failure. I shant go into the details (as my poor bruised ego is still recovering), but needless to say the greatest fruits of my labor were a small burn on my left forearm and an entire loaf of bread that had to be thrown away. It was then that I was the fortunate recipient of a recipe from my boyfriend’s aunt. She tells me she’s not really a serious baker, but the Kitchen Aid on her counter, the antique bundt pans on the wall, and all my boyfriend’s accounts of her goods would suggest otherwise. This recipe yields the snickerdoodle of which I’ve always dreamed – crispy on the outside, chewy on the inside, with a simple but utterly delicious taste of butter, cinnamon, and sugar.

Unlike many snickerdoodle recipes that use only butter, this one uses both butter and shortening. Dorrie Greenspan says in her book that the combination of the fats is what makes her pie crusts the best around, and I am inclined to think that it is this same duo that makes the cookies what they are.

Aunt Trish's Snickerdoodles

Ingredients:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup shortening
1 1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 tsp. cream of tartar
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
2 TBS sugar
2 tsp. cinnamon

Method:
1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.
2. Mix butter, shortening, sugar, and eggs.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt.
4. Add dry ingredients to wet ingredients and combine with wooden spoon. Shape dough by rounded teaspoons into balls.
5. In a shallow bowl, mix 2 TBS sugar and cinnamon; roll balls in mixture.
6. Place 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheet.
7. Bake ~ 8 to 10 minutes or until set. Immediately remove from baking sheet.

Yield: ~ 6 dozen cookies.

Cafe Fanny

2008-06-14T12:15:00.000-07:00

Whenever I move to a new city, I like to familiarize myself with the places that are truly instrumental to my health and happiness – local bakeries. I don’t care what anyone says, Bakery Tours are the best way to acquaint oneself with a town. How could anyone doubt the benefits of a little exploration and a lot of baked goods? Since I moved to the bay area, I’ve been slacking on the bakery tour because I already knew of one bakery whose pastries I’d come to worship over the years. This entry is not about that bakery. Instead, I found today’s destination as an assignment from my dad, whose food research rivals those who actually get paid to do it. So, I took myself to Café Fanny. It’s not so much of a bakery as an eatery, or some synonymous word for “cute little place that serves somewhat pretentious but very tasty food.” For more on the establishment and its history, check out their website here.

Not to keep you in suspense, I’ll give the brief version right now: great breakfast place for a very European-feeling poached egg on toast and a latte that’s served in a bowl instead of (gasp) a mug with any sort of handle. Would I recommend it to people? Certainly, though it seems best for an individual or group of two, rather than a family or party of friends. Would I go again? I’ve almost undoubtedly found a new place for my weekend café rotation. Are the baked goods exquisite? To be honest, those showcased in the café seemed under-emphasized, but that’s because the café is situated directly next door to Acme Bread, which provides both sweet and savory delights that will send any bread appreciator (there should be a term for it – a “panthusiast”?) into raptures.

People around the bay area are very into their food, and I shant deny that there is a certain level of snobbery in all of Berkeley when it comes to eating. But that being said, Café Fanny is surprisingly accessible – at least, until the crowds show up (for me that was about 10:30 on a Saturday morning). Don’t bother asking for a nonfat latte, though, because they only have lowfat milk. So if you’re jonesing for a highly customized but high-quality cup of coffee, any nearby Peet’s Coffee is still your best bet. From a practical perspective, it’s best to arrive on the early side if you’re going for breakfast and don’t feel like standing in line. Standing at the counter to enjoy your steel-cut oatmeal or your buckwheat crepe with fruit and organic yogurt is definitely the preferred option. I ordered poached eggs on toast which, as you can see, were perfectly formed (and as you can’t see, were perfectly cooked – hooray). If you’ve ordered coffee, it will arrive at the counter almost certainly long before your food, so you have something to sip as you wait. My latte was soothing and not at all bitter, but also not extraordinarily hot. Keep in mind, I’m biased, and would rather scald myself on a drink that have it lukewarm. But its heat level was fine when I started drinking it – the large surface area of the bowl was certainly the cause of the heat dissipation over time.

The poached eggs arrived on beautiful buttered toast with a bit of salt and pepper sprinkled on top. The bread is a marvel in itself, certainly. And Café Fanny’s eggs were just what I wanted, though I am anxious to try the oatmeal next time. All in all, I greatly enjoyed the eating experience, topped off by a small “rye raisin rabbit” (a rye bun with raisins in it) from the Acme Bread bakery next door. Altogether, my latte and poached eggs ($6.25 by themselves) totaled up to $10.88, which I found reasonable, but I’ll probably just get food next time and enjoy a coffee afterwards.

Maple Lime Pecan Cookies

2008-04-30T21:44:00.000-07:00

With all the chaos from moving back to the west coast, my blogging has obviously been severely neglected. It also seems that since I’m living in someone else’s house for 6 weeks or so, I shant be baking for a while. This is where I cry myself to sleep every night. In truth, I probably won’t have time for it anyway, given the whole new job thing and it’s associated time-consuming activities – like having to think before putting clothes on in the morning. Drag!

In light of this, I’ll spend today’s entry talking about the things I made last week. [Oh and of course, I forgot to take photos of this next cookie, so I’ll throw in pictures of the banana bread for the sake of looks.] Let us take, for instance, another Experiment In Terror – Maple Lime Pecan Cookies. When I told my little sister about my ambition to replicate the flavor of the sample I tried at the new neighborhood Whole Foods’ Nut Counter, she replied, “That sounds … not delicious.” And I suppose if I hadn’t tried the sample myself, I would’ve said the same thing.

Fortunately, I ignored her protests and ventured onward. And behold! I ended up with a delicious butter cookie flavored distinctly with pecans and maple candy bits in the dough and a – forgive my use of this word – zingy lime glaze on top. Without the glaze, the product was just another butter pecan cookie. With it, however, the cookie danced delicately on the line that separates “wow I never would’ve thought of this combination, but it’s really tasty” and “wow I would never have put these flavors together – with good reason.” Luckily for me, it ended on the latter side. So thank you, Whole Foods, intimidating grocery store extraordinaire, for a free sample of some inspiration. This is only further proof that free samples, not gravity, make the world go ’round.

Notes:
- The ingredient list is split into two parts, one for the cookie itself, one for the glaze.
- This recipe requires chilling the dough! Plan on baking them the next day or at least 3 hours after letting them reside in the fridge.

Maple Lime Pecan Cookies
Adapted from Alice Medrich’s Butter Cookie recipe in her book, Cookies And Brownies

Cookie Ingredients:
16 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar (I used extrafine)
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour (I used unbleached)
zest of 2.5 limes
juice of 1 whole lime
1/3 cup crushed maple candy, chopped into small bits*
~3/4 cup whole pecans (measured while whole), chopped into small bits

*This can be found at Whole Foods, in the baking aisle. I encourage you to experiment with other ways to get the maple flavor into the cookie – let me know if you have any ideas!

Glaze Ingredients:
juice of 2 limes
~2 tsp sugar

1. Cream butter until smooth using wooden spoon
2. Using fingers, rub the lime zest into the sugar in a small bowl, making sure to bring out the juices in the zest
3. Cream butter, sugar, salt, zest, and vanilla until smooth and creamy but not fluffy, using a wooden spoon.
4. Add [1 lime’s worth of] lime juice and stir until completely incorporated.
5. In a separate bowl, sift flour using a wire whisk. Add maple bits and pecan pieces, and sift further using the whisk.
6. In 3 parts, slowly combine the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients, until just incorporated. This may take a bit of effort (it did for me!).
7. Knead the dough a couple times to make sure it's smooth.
8. Divide the dough in half and shape each half into a round log, 2 inches in diameter. Wrap each separately in plastic wrap. Chill for at least 3 hours.
-- When you’re soon going to be ready to bake --
9. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Bake 12 to 14 minutes, or until light golden brown at the edges, rotating the cookie sheets from top to bottom and front to back halfway through the baking time to ensure even baking. (I skipped that step and had no problems)
-- While the cookies are in the oven --
i. Heat the lime juice and sugar in a small saucepan over low-medium heat.
ii. Stir the sugar into the lime juice using a rubber spatula, and cook until the sugar is completely dissolved.
iii. Set aside a small pastry brush.
10. Once you’ve removed the cookies from the oven, let them firm up on the pan for about 1 minute before transferring them to a rack. As they’re cooling, use the pastry brush to apply the glaze liberally to the top of each cookie.
11. Completely cool before stacking or storing. May be stored airtight for several days, but they’re best 3-4 days after baking.

Baking blog backlog

2008-04-15T18:20:00.000-07:00

I seem to have developed a backlog of items I baked but have yet to write about. First, I tackled some coconut cupcakes (whose recipe is not mine to give, but I am including pictures anyway). Second, I finally took a stab at Pierre Hermé’s Korova Cookies, a sort of a French chocolate shortbread. Dorrie Greenspan calls them World Peace Cookies in her book, Baking: From My Home to Yours, but since it confuses me to have names that don’t describe the baked good itself, we’ll call them Chocolate Sablés. Third, because I was supposed to be at home all day yesterday packing my things to ready for this weekend’s move … I baked Nutella Cupcakes.

Because I did not create this recipe, I feel absolutely no shame in saying that the Chocolate Sablés are perhaps the most delicious chocolate cookie you will ever eat. They have an intense chocolate flavor due to the cocoa powder, augmented by the use of chopped bittersweet chocolate. Dorrie Greenspan notes in her book that the cookies are “salty,” but it’s hard to think of them that way when you’re eating them. They’re just a perfect chocolate cookie with the added complexity of the grainy, surprising, but entirely complimentary salt.

Note: I used fine sea salt because I lacked the mysterious fleur de sel, and I can’t even think of how they could improve using the original ingredient. Dorrie indicates in her book that this is a fine substitution – just reduce the salt to ¼ tsp rather than ½ tsp fleur de sel.

You can find the recipe (along with beautiful photos) here. Just remember when you're slicing the chilled dough that it will probably fall apart (it's supposed to do that) and that all you have to do is, for lack of a better word, squish the broken bits back together and all will be well once they've baked.

Lastly, I stumbled upon this “self-frosting” nutella cupcake recipe a few days ago and have been preoccupied with it ever since. I made a few slight changes to the recipe, as I thought it could do with the addition of instant espresso powder and an increase in vanilla. After all, any recipe with less than 1 tsp of vanilla extract makes me nervous.

The end product was not quite what I expected, mainly because the Nutella doesn't really seem very frosting-like at all (so the original "Self-Frosting" description misled me!). I liked them, but my only qualm was that the top half of the cupcake was much tastier than the bottom half – as the bottom half lacked nutella – and as a result, the experience was much more muffin-like than intended. However, the cupcake still tasted great, particularly when enjoyed with coffee.

Nutella Cupcakes Adapted from Baking Bites

10 tbsp (140 grams) butter, softened
3/4 cup white sugar
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 3/4 cups (200 grams) sifted all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp salt
1 ½ tsp instant espresso powder
2 tsp baking powder
Nutella, approx. 1/3 cup

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 325F. Line 12 muffin tins with paper liners.
2. Cream together butter and sugar until light, using a wooden spoon or a hand mixer. If using an electric mixer, beat for ~ 2 minutes.
3. Add in eggs one at a time, mixing after each until fully incorporated. Don’t worry if the batter doesn’t look smooth.
4. Add vanilla and mix until incorporated.
5. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, espresso powder, and salt.
6. Stir dry mixture into the wet mixture using a wooden spoon until batter is uniform and no flour remains.
7. Distribute the batter evenly between the 12 cups using two spoons.
[Note: the Baking Bites version of this recipe says each liner should be ¾ full, but I could only fill mine slightly more than ½.]
8. Top each cake with 1 ½ tsp Nutella. Swirl Nutella in with a toothpick, making sure to fold a bit of batter up over the Nutella.
9. Bake for 20 minutes.
10. Remove and place on a wire rack to cool completely.
-- Makes 12 cupcakes --

Lemon Curd Cake

2008-04-09T12:56:00.000-07:00

My family thrives on having certain core rules to guide our daily lives, both for big decisions and little ones. When I went with my mom to the grocery store, she told me to remember her three key attributes for an acceptable olive oil: Extra Virgin, First Cold Pressing, from Italy. When I got old enough to begin buying more fashionable clothes, my dad taught me about the Godzilla Rule: Make sure all your shoes are comfortable enough to run in, just in case Godzilla comes to town and you find yourself being chased by a giant fire-breathing lizard. (Note: Most women I meet do not follow the Godzilla rule -- man, will THEY be sorry when he shows up!)

Perhaps the most simple and yet frequently repeated rule was my dad's project mantra: Always make a mock-up. I can't think of one school assignment where I wasn't forced to draw up a draft or create a model of whatever it was I was planning to make. I was never very good with the mock-ups. After all, why devote time and energy to something that won't end up as your final product? But it turns out, the time you devote to thinking through your mock-up serves to make your final product better. Perhaps this would've given me clarity when I made my 5th grade state "float" (a Southern California tradition where kids decorate shoe boxes with tissue paper to mimic those of the annual Pasadena Rose Parade) and chose a large maple leaf made out of maple sugar as the centerpiece -- maybe then my float wouldn't have melted under the hot California sun.

It was with that singularly pathetic memory in mind that I decided to make a "test cake" in preparation for the one I was making for my sister's birthday. I used a lemon recipe from Cupcake Bakeshop and decided to add even more lemon and throw in some store-bought curd. You can find instructions for making your own lemon curd here, but I couldn't make the time to do that. You'll also notice that I divided the instructions into sections according to the overall function they play in the recipe. I hate long instructional blocks of text.

The result: A smooth, lemony cake that resembles a pound cake. Not for the faint-of-lemon-hearted. The lemon curd adds an extra touch of moisture and tang and pure lemon flavor that contrasts the cake nicely. I additionally made a glaze from lemon juice and sugar and painted the cooling cake with it so it could sit overnight and soak in. When served with fresh sliced strawberries on top, this made for a nice summery dessert.

Lemon Curd Cake
Adapted from Cupcake Bakeshop
Makes 1 8"-round cake

For the cake:
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
3 large eggs
1½ cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
½ cup milk
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
zest of one lemon

For the glaze:
1/3 cup lemon juice
3 TBS sugar

- Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F -
- Butter and flour 1 8-inch round cake pan. Set aside.

Assembling the batter
1. Using a standing mixer or a hand mixer, cream butter and sugar in a large bowl, until fluffy. [A wooden spoon may work here, but I get the feeling the electric mixer is key in aerating the cake. Though I might be wrong.]
2. Add eggs one at a time, beating each until fully incorporated.
3. In a medium bowl, use a whisk or a fork to combine flour, baking powder, and salt.
4. In a large measuring cup or small bowl, combine milk and vanilla (you may stir with a spoon if you like, but no implement is really required here)
5. Alternately add dry ingredients and wet ingredients to the butter/sugar/egg mixture, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients. Mix in with wooden spoon until just combined.
6. Mix in lemon juice and lemon zest (a wooden spoon works fine for this step as well).
7. Using a rubber spatula, transfer the batter from the bowl to the cake pan.

Baking the cake
8. Bake for ~30 minutes initially and check on your cake. It probably will still be liquid-like in the cake's top-middle region. Continue to bake for 3-5 minutes at a time, depending on how your cake smells, for a total of approximately 40-45 minutes (or perhaps even longer if necessary). If your kitchen begins to smell buttery and lemony, your cake is probably pretty close to done. If there's no cake smell, chances are it's probably still batter and not yet cake.
9. Once your cake has been in the oven for ~30 minutes, it's time to make the glaze.
a. Combine the lemon juice and sugar over medium-low heat in a small saucepan
b. Stir the sugar into the lemon juice and continue to cook until the sugar is entirely dissolved into the lemon juice. Make sure the lemon juice boils gently, so as not to burn the sugar before it's entirely mixed in.
10. Remove cake from oven when a thin knife inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean. Make sure to insert the knife deep enough -- you don't want to remove the cake if it's still raw in the middle. Your cake will be domed instead of flat on top -- this is what you want.

Applying the glaze
11. Let the cake cool in the pan for ~3-5 minutes on a cooling rack. Then, use a clean kitchen towel to help you remove the cake from the pan. You can do this by holding the cake pan (with an oven mitt) in one hand and the towel in the other. Place the towel on top of the cake and place your empty hand on it. Carefully flip your hands over so that the hand with the towel now is also supporting the weight of the cake from the pan. Toss the pan aside and use the rest of the towel and your now free hand to flip the cake back right-side-up and onto the cooling rack.
12. Using a pastry brush, apply the lemon glaze to the top, sides, and bottom of the cake. Let cool until room temperature.
13. Wrap cake tightly in plastic wrap and keep at room temperature overnight, or for a few hours to let the glaze sink in.

Assembling the cake
14. Unwrap the cake and use a serrated knife to make 3 radial cuts in the cake, producing 4 thin layers.
15. Carefully separate the layers and use a butter knife to apply a generous layer of lemon curd to each layer. Reassemble the cake as best you can. Serve with fresh strawberries if you like.

Scones! Wait, Scones?!

2008-04-03T14:00:00.001-07:00

I tend to characterize baked goods not only by the way they taste, but how I feel they express their personalities. I suppose it's stereotypical of me, but I tend to divide them in my mind first by category, and then by individual variety. For example, cookies are down-to-earth, good with children, and accepting of all -- milk, tea, hot chocolate, and coffee. Layered cakes are much fancier and self-absorbed, only showing up on special occasions when they surface like wealthy hermits at annual social events only to disappear back into obscurity afterwards (though the exception to this rule is Yellow Cake with Chocolate Frosting, who always makes others feel welcome). Store-bought bread has an inferiority complex, cupcakes think very highly of themselves, and muffins are stealth desserts disguised as breakfast.

When you're younger, you can see these distinctions pretty clearly. There's a whole set of "grown-up" baked goods that display much pricklier dispositions. Biscotti hurts to bite into and makes you thirsty (seemingly on purpose -- jerk). Restaurant breads are often filled with seeds that make you feel much more like Big Bird than you would've ever wanted. Croissants feel light when you eat them, but then people tell you that eating them will make you fat. And then there's the scone.

The scone is perhaps the greatest deceiver of them all. It's not very sweet, not very soft, not very moist, and yet resembles an enormous craggly cookie that has "I promise I'm fun-tasting" written all over it. Many are filled with what look like mini chocolate chips, but alas! They're actually the estranged cousins of raisins known as Currants. And when you have a mouth full of them when you thought you were about to experience a world of chocolatey goodness, instead you feel as though someone just sunk your Battleship.

Of course, when you get older, you find that currants are actually pretty tasty, seeded breads go well with meals, and biscotti can only be fully enjoyed with a cup of hot coffee. And yet, I often find that even with my more food-enlightened older self, many scones are still as dry and deceiving as I remember them to be. But not these.

These are adapted from the Cheese Board book, and they are some of the best scones I've ever had. Flavorful, moist, and rich but not uncomfortably heavy, these can be paired with coffee like traditional scones, but I enjoy them plain. The only reason I resorted to scones in the first place is because I had both buttermilk and heavy cream leftover from an earlier project -- and I hate that they spoil so quickly. After trying these, I plan to have a lot of "leftover" buttermilk and heavy cream around from hereon out. Oh and in regards to the source of this recipe, it is my hope you will try this one and immediately go out and purchase a copy of the book, as there are numerous other amazing recipes to try.

Notes:

- Make sure to use unbleached flour -- I didn't have any at the time, and I'm convinced it was this substitution that made them much harder to assemble when placing them on the baking sheet.
- I increased the amount of chocolate chips called for in the recipe, which improved them significantly in my mind. The dough-to-chip recipe is key.
- If you're feeling adventurous, I might add 1/4-1/2 tsp of cinnamon, though the plain buttery taste is great on its own.
- You may want to check on and rotate your scones (remove the pan briefly and turn it around) after about 15 minutes of baking. I know my oven doesn't bake as evenly as I'd like, so it makes it harder to get them to an equal degree of done-ness.
- The second time I made these, I made less of an effort to get all the flour into the scones -- having some left in the bowl actually seemed to benefit the final product.

The Cheese Board's Chocolate Chip Scones

3 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
3/4 cup sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) cold unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 1/2 cup chocolate chips
3/4 cup heavy cream
3/4 cup buttermilk -- SHAKE WELL prior to using

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F and line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper. Set aside.

1. Combine flour, baking soda, and baking powder in a large bowl using a wire whisk.
2. Using a wooden spoon, stir salt and sugar into the dry ingredient mixture.
3. Cut the butter into the flour mixture using sharp knives or a pastry cutter, until the size of small peas (they need not be entirely uniform). 4. Use your wooden spoon to mix in the chocolate chips.
5. Using a cup or a spoon, form a large well in the middle of the mixture. Add the buttermilk and heavy cream to the well.
6. Mix until just combined (there will be some flour left at the bottom of the bowl).
7. Use a spoon and your hands to form rough balls of dough, approximately 2.25 inches in diameter (I just judged them to be a large handful) and place on the parchment papered baking sheets, a few inches apart. Do not smooth the surfaces of the scones -- they should be somewhat lumpy.
8. Sprinkle sugar as desired over each scone -- make sure not to get too much sugar on the pan, as it will caramelize and eventually burn if not on a scone.
9. Bake at 375 degrees for 25-30 minutes, or until the scones are golden brown. Remove from the baking sheets with a spatula and let them cool on wire racks.

Yield: ~ 10 - 12 scones

Strawberry cupcakes

2008-03-28T10:22:00.001-07:00

I remember reading "Like Water For Chocolate" a few years ago, and being amused by the very literal ties between food and emotions. One particular chapter that stuck out in my mind. The female protagonist was heartbroken because she was deeply in love with a man who, due to complex circumstances, ended up marrying her sister instead. At the wedding, she baked the cake for the couple and cried into the batter as she was stirring it. When the guests ate it, they all ended up violently ill because they could taste her endless sorrow. Or at least, that's how I remember it.

In that case, one could describe last week's lemon cupcakes with strawberry frosting as filled with excitement, with a strong taste of wonder, and a tinge of nostalgia. (Or you could simply say they were lemony and refreshing with the lemon tint running in both the cake and the frosting.) It seems that this lowly Peter Parker is leaving the Daily Bugle for greener pastures. That's right -- I got a new day job.

I shant get into the details, because I'm sure there will be plenty once I get myself together and relocate to the west coast. For now, there are the baked goods.

Over the last several days, I made two batches of cupcakes -- one with my family, and one by myself. The ones shown in the adjoining photos are strawberry cupcakes with strawberry frosting. Unfortunately, I cannot include the recipe for the frosting because it was a concoction of my mom and sister's cooperative efforts. I do know that they used a combination of fresh strawberries, strawberry sauce (whose recipe I have temporarily lost), cream cheese, and lemon zest. When I get more information about it, I'll post it.

The strawberry cupcakes were nice and light-tasting, and surprisingly fruity (I've often found that many fruit-flavored cupcakes leave something to be desired in their resemblance to the star ingredient). The recipe can be found here. My notes are as follows:

- We used approximately 1 1/2 cups of chopped fresh strawberries instead of just 1. It didn't change the consistency of the batter too significantly, and the resulting cake was that much more flavorful for it.
- Our strawberries were extremely ripe, which was extremely convenient (though it meant that prep took longer, as we kept eating them). Many recipes will tell you to adjust the sugar according to the ripeness of the fruit, but most cupcake recipes have adequate sugar to prevent the cake from being sour, and I don't like to add too much extra sugar. So be light-handed with it.
- It is my personal belief that all fruit cakes taste better when paired with a citrus zest or taste of some sort. Keep that in mind when making your frosting choice!
- These cupcakes also tasted great when eaten plain, which is nice. They seem like a great spring/summer dessert, and are best when topped with a few slices of fresh strawberry (the tartness is key).

I also made another batch of cupcakes to use up the rest of the frosting. The resulting lemon cupcakes were satisfyingly citrus-y, and paired well with the milder strawberry flavor. The recipe is here. I don't have many notes on these because everything came out well!

Carrot Muffins

2008-03-23T20:09:00.000-07:00

My family’s food passions are fueled by fixation. We develop almost unhealthy fascinations with particular dishes on a frequent basis – much to my delight. Between my parents, my sister and me, it is not uncommon for one of us to refer to our current “mission,” such as crafting the perfect Jello masterpiece for the Easter table, or taming the caramelization of a tarte tatin. So this year, when I heard my family had become obsessed (or shall we say “preoccupied”) with carrot cake, I didn’t think too much of it. That’s just how we are.

Since I got a job and moved to the East Coast, far away from my family in California, it has been difficult to work out spending major holidays together. Thanksgiving was the last time the four of us were in the same place. This means that for the past several months, I have been baking endlessly, but my best critics were unable to give their professional opinions. So since they told me a few weeks ago that they were coming to visit for Easter, the words “carrot cake” have been running on an endless electronic billboard loop in my brain (akin to the ones that proclaim “DE-FENSE!” at football games).

My family has also been spending these last few months getting healthy. They are all diligent about exercising, making sure to eat right, and generally putting me to shame with their discipline. So riddle me this, Batman – how do you make carrot cake not … coronary bypass-worthy and yet still palatable?

The answer came in these Carrot Muffins, whose recipe I found at Allrecipes.com and modified to suit my needs. I shant detail those modifications here, because to do so may detract from the main point about this recipe; it produces wonderfully moist, flavorful muffin-cakes that taste completely full-bodied rather than artificially slimmed down. Just as I don’t believe in unnatural diets for people, I also don’t believe in unnatural diets for baked goods. At the end of the day, it’s a treat, to be enjoyed in moderation of course, but mainly to be enjoyed.

My family’s verdict: “Mission” accomplished.

Carrot Muffins
Recipe adapted from Allrecipes.com

A few notes:
- Do not be intimidated by the long ingredient list. Everything comes together very quickly and mostly easily – and obviously you can make many changes to the spices depending on your cupboard’s contents.

- The only part of the process that is at all difficult is the shredding of the carrots. Make sure you grate your carrots into very thin pieces so they won’t be too chunky when eating. This step takes a while. Set aside some time, or shred your carrots the night before if you like.

- When I tried these just out of the oven, I was inconsolably disappointed in how they turned out. The next morning, once they had cooled, they had catapulted themselves into a whole higher sphere of taste. Moral: Muffins are best once completely cooled.

Ingredients:
1 cup flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
2 tsps. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. salt
2 tsps. cinnamon
¼ tsp. ginger
¼ tsp. cloves
¼ tsp. nutmeg
½ cup white sugar
½ cup brown sugar
¼ cup canola oil
¾ cup applesauce
3 eggs, beaten
1 tsp. vanilla
½ cup uncooked rolled oats
½ cup flaked coconut
½ cup golden raisins
1 ½ cups walnuts
2 cups shredded carrots
1 8-oz can crushed pineapple (stored in pineapple juice, NOT syrup), drained

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly grease muffin pans or use paper muffin liners (I use 2 per cup).
2. In a large bowl, whisk together the all-purpose flour, whole-wheat flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and nutmeg.
3. Make a well in the center of the dry mixture and add white sugar, brown sugar, applesauce, canola oil, eggs, and vanilla. Mix just until evenly moist.
4. Using a rubber spatula, fold in the oats, coconut, raisins, carrots, walnuts and pineapple.
5. Fill each muffin cup about 2/3 full and bake for ~25 minutes, or until a thin knife inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean.

~A Note: Remember my resolution to be more daring? This is my entry to Sugar High Friday. Hooray!

Not Really Brioche and Baby Banana Cakes

2008-03-19T20:20:00.000-07:00

For the first several months at my current job, my team used to have a weekly meeting where we’d all sit around and go through each of our projects. We’d have to give a status update on each (usually consisting of “so-and-so has been ignoring my e-mails so I showed up at her desk and she pretended not to recognize me”-type anecdotes) and then state our lessons learned. It became increasingly disappointing to find that nobody seemed to learn the primary lesson the ritual delivered, which was “This meeting is a colossal waste of my time and I’d rather eat my stapler than be forced to attend once more.”

It is with that spirit that I will attempt to briefly and honestly list my own baking lessons learned from the week so far.

- Never begin baking yeasted bread products when the price of wheat is at an all-time high
- Make sure to read the instructions on each dry active yeast package prior to purchasing because one packet may be more than enough to satisfy your recipe’s need (and you wouldn’t want to end up frantically purchasing 12x the needed amount in an instruction-phobic frenzy, now would you?)
- Before attempting any yeasted bread products, it is prudent to read up on helpful techniques beforehand, at a place like The Fresh Loaf.

My two major ventures for the week were “brioche” knots, whose recipe can be found in The Cheese Board: Collective Works. The word “brioche” is in quotation marks because what I made by no means qualifies as the French pastry with the same name. I am opting not to copy the recipe here simply because it would seem rather cruel to those of the Berkeley collective to deprive them of income that will further fuel their bread-baking efforts – particularly since I so benefit from that bread-baking each time I’m in the area. I shall not include notes on this recipe because individuals with far more insight on the creation of yeasted bread products share their wisdom at The Fresh Loaf. So go there!

Luckily, the recipe for Baby Banana Cakes is freely available online at Seriouseats.com. Dorrie Greenspan, baking messiah, has a weekly column there that has become my new favorite web-jaunt. Here are my notes:

- The comments attached to the recipe suggested adding ½ tsp of cinnamon, so I made that addition, and threw in ¼ tsp nutmeg as well. The result was a very homey flavor that complimented rather than overshadowed the banana, which I found quite satisfying. I also added ¾ cup coarsely chopped walnuts, but did not toast them because I was lazy.
- I used 2 large bananas and ended up with closer to 1 cup mashed banana than ¾, but I did not observe any negative effects of the change. In fact, the next time I make them, I’ll probably use the same amount.
- The cakes were quite moist yet substantial, but neither soupy nor dense. I served the majority of mine the morning after baking. Sadly, they lost the pleasant crust being in an airtight container overnight. I suggest you eat them as soon as they’re cool enough to break open without burning your fingers.
- Warning: baking time was a major issue for me. I ended up pulling my cakes out of the oven after about 22 minutes of baking, and they were on the verge of becoming burnt. I’m not sure why things were so off on that front, as I always check the temperature of my oven prior to baking with my handy oven thermometer. Be sure to check the baking of these cakes by smell first, and instructions second.
- My cakes did not flatten like those in Dorrie’s picture, and were mistaken for muffins. Perhaps they wouldn’t go well with jam, but I suspect that cutting them in half and lightly toasting them in a toaster oven would suit them quite nicely.

Do I dare to eat a peach?

2008-03-19T11:57:00.000-07:00

I was speaking with a friend yesterday about poker, and why I never learned to play. I explained that I hadn't invested the time and effort because I am averse to gambling -- and I'm averse to gambling because I am cheap. Why participate in ventures where I am likely to end up tossing my money away? To this, he replied that I was making a wise choice. After all, he said, if you don't risk anything, you don't lose anything.

And when he put it that way, it suddenly didn't sound nearly so wise.

I took our conversation not as a sign to learn poker, but as an impetus to become more active in areas where I would otherwise be happy to complacently drift. Let's take this blog, for instance. It is easy to present oneself to an audience of .... four. So, in the spirit of adventure, I hereby pledge to take the necessary steps to get this blog some actual readers (who aren't somehow obligated, by blood or friendship, to read). Here is my plan -- participate in various cross-blog events, such as Tuesdays with Dorrie. I believe Sugar High Friday shall be my first foray into the that world. Perhaps I should get pumped, Rocky-style, and go for a run around the mean streets of...Long Island. Perhaps not.

Chewy Cocoa Fudge Cookies

2008-03-15T09:53:00.000-07:00

When I woke up this morning, I felt it was time to take a crack at a new recipe. Today I choose this from Words To Eat By, a blog I discovered only yesterday. You can find the recipe here.

I wanted to refer to these as Chocolate Deathcakes (as in, Death by Chocolate, not that they taste like death), but I was vetoed on account of it being a rather unappetizing title. Oh well. These cookies are fudgy, a bit fragile, and have an extremely intensely chocolate taste. It’s the cookie equivalent of a truffle. The recipe’s author describes the ways in which you can change the character of the cookie by varying your add-ins, and I’m sure experimenting with that can yield a variety of delicious results. However, I liked mine as chocolate, and chocolate only. These also somewhat resemble Dorrie Greenspan's Bittersweet Brownies from her book, Baking: From My Home To Yours. Mmm.

Let it be noted that “chocoholic” is one of my least favorite words (and a made-up one, at that) of all time. “Chocoholic” implies that one will eat anything with “chocolate” in the name, and for an audience of such self-identified chocolate fanatics, this cookie may not be for them. Make these for the lover of chocolate who uses some degree of discrimination. For the true experience, do not use premade chocolate chips, and do not use semi-sweet chocolate. The cocoa taste is the star here – the melty chocolate bits throughout are simply icing on the cake.

Chewy Cocoa Fudge Cookies

Here are my notes:

- I used nonfat Greek yogurt to make the cookies richer, as opposed to using regular Dannon or some similar common brand. I’m sure they’d be fine with regular nonfat yogurt, though.
- If you want these to be truly fudgey cookies, do not use any nuts. Instead, use approximately 4 oz of bittersweet chocolate, chopped into bits.
- Dropping “level tablespoons” of dough on cookie sheets never seems to work for me, so I almost always roll them into rough balls by hand. My yield came out closer to 24 cookies than 28-30.
- I used parchment paper instead of cooking spray or silpats on my baking sheet, and it worked well.
- You will note from my photos that my cookies did not flatten out. One of the comments on the author’s blog suggests that this may be due to the kind of butter one uses. In all honesty, I liked having a little height to them.
- Cooking time was a major issue for me, probably due to the fact that my cookies did not flatten. If you find your cookies are rather on the tall side, be sure to add at least 5 minutes to their total baking time. I had to carefully monitor them, so make sure to give these your full attention.
- At least twice, I thought the cookies were done and let them set up on the baking sheet for a few minutes, only to find that they were still molten on the inside. This may sound terrible, but I tried one in this intermediate non-dough, non-cookie state, and it was pret-ty tasty. I figure there can’t be too much danger in that, as the dough contains no eggs. But I wouldn’t suggest leaving your entire batch that way.

Coffee Cake Extravaganza

2008-03-09T15:19:00.000-07:00

If last week’s coffee cake was an Experiment In Terror, this week’s was an Extreme Experiment In Terror. After spending hours last week paging through baking books, recipes, and food blogs, I made several adjustments to the recipe – mainly to the middle and top layers.

In an effort to eliminate the undesirable molten sugar feature in the middle of the cake (while simultaneously trying to preserve the “hey something nifty in the center” feature), I put two layers of streusel-type mixtures in this cake. The middle layer is a bit of a misnomer, as streusel generally contains flour and mine is only sugar, spice, and butter. I adapted it from a Dorrie Greenspan recipe for Cinnamon Chocolate Squares, where she uses sugar, cinnamon, and bits of chopped chocolate. No chocolate in this cake, though, as I wanted to preserve the breakfasty quality.

The top layer of streusel I adapted from another Dorrie Greenspan recipe, though I can’t remember which at the moment. Perhaps the Allspice Crumb Muffins in Baking: From My Home To Yours. It definitely did not turn out the way I expected because it still didn’t have any “crumble” to it at all. Instead, it formed a surprisingly welcome golden crust. Despite my expectations for a crumbly top, I have adopted the Elliot-to-E.T. stance on the crust, and adamantly declare, “I’m keeping him.”

My only small qualm about this version of the recipe is that there were a couple small warm melty sugar pockets near the top layer of the cake, just beneath the crust. However, I expect those could be eliminated by devoting a little more thought into how I apply the butter-nut-spice crumbs on the top. If such pockets would bother you, make sure not to put too many buttery clumps too close together prior to baking.

So here it is, my “final” version. I reserve the right to modify it in the future, but take note that I am writing this by hand into my beloved spiral notebook of recipes – and it doesn’t get more final than that.

Coffee Cake v 2.0

Ingredients:

For the cake:
1 cup sugar
½ cup butter, room temperature
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon almond extract
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon allspice
1 cup sour cream (reduced-fat is fine)

For the middle “streusel” (even though it contains no flour):
1 ½ TBS sugar
2 tsps cinnamon
1 pinch (~ 1/8 tsp.) ground nutmeg
3 TBS cold, unsalted butter, cut into bits

For the top crust:
5 TBS unsalted butter, room temp
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup packed brown sugar
1/3 cup all purpose flour
1 pinch (~1/8 tsp.) salt
½ cup sliced almonds, chopped further into very small pieces

Note: I have put separate sets of directions for the middle layer, the cake, and the crust. It would be advisable to perform each set of directions in the order I lay out here. I am also re-listing the ingredients that correspond with each group of directions, for the sake of clarity.

Directions:

For the middle layer:

1 ½ TBS sugar
2 tsps cinnamon
1 pinch (~ 1/8 tsp.) ground nutmeg
3 TBS cold, unsalted butter, cut into bits

1. Combine the sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a small bowl using your fingers.
2. Add the cold bits of butter to the spice mixture and thoroughly coat each piece with the sugar and spice. Set aside in the refrigerator.

For the cake:

1 cup sugar
½ cup butter, room temperature
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon almond extract
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon allspice
1 cup sour cream

1. Butter an 8 x 8 x 3-inch baking pan and preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.
2. Cream butter and sugar in a large bowl.
3. Add eggs and extracts; beat well.
4. In a separate bowl, whisk dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, allspice) to combine.
5. Mix ½ of the dry ingredients into the butter mixture.
6. Mix sour cream into the butter/dry ingredient mixture.
7. Mix remaining dry ingredients into the larger bowl.
8. Using a rubber spatula, scrape approximately half of the dough (or slightly more than that, if you need more to cover the bottom of the pan) into the buttered pan. Use a butter knife to spread the dough evenly along the bottom in a thin layer.
9. Remove your middle layer ingredient bowl from the refrigerator and sprinkle the spice-coated butter pieces evenly on the dough – there will be plenty of white spots, as there is not enough butter to cover the entire surface area.
10. Sprinkle the remaining sugar-spice mixture evenly over the dough.
11. Add the second half of the dough to the pan, using a butter knife to spread it evenly. Be careful not to move too much of the spiced butter around beneath it, or you will unbalance your proportions.

For the top crust:

5 TBS unsalted butter, room temp
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup packed brown sugar
1/3 cup all purpose flour
1 pinch (~1/8 tsp.) salt
½ cup sliced almonds, chopped further into very small pieces

1. In a small bowl, combine the flour, sugar, brown sugar, and salt using your fingers to distribute each ingredient evenly.
2. Add the chopped almonds and again use your fingers to make an even mixture.
3. Add bits of cold butter and toss to coat, then use your fingers to work the butter into the dry ingredients until you’ve got irregularly shaped crumbs.

Finishing and baking:

1. Sprinkle the top crust crumbs and spices evenly over the top of the dough.
2. Place the pan in the oven and bake for approximately 50 to 60 minutes, making your initial check at 50. Remove from oven when a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.
3. Place pan on a wire rack to cool before serving.

And then you eat it!

Chocolate Chip Cookies

2008-03-08T16:43:00.000-08:00

For several weeks, I’ve been avoiding baking cookies of any kind because of the time and labor they require. Already I tend to skimp on my attention to detail and crowd too many cookies onto one sheet, resulting in largely square munchies (whoops). But, having baked loaves and cakes for a few weeks, I was ready to re-enter the world of cookies, if only for an afternoon.

This recipe does not require much time, which makes it an excellent choice for post-work baking. Its quickness can be attributed to 1) the simplicity of the recipe, and 2) the fact that the recipe only produces 2 dozen cookies total. If you’re going to double the recipe, make sure you have enough chocolate – I used about 9 oz on today’s batch alone, and using twice that can amount to a significant expense if you’re using snobby (but delicious) high-quality chocolate such as Scharffen Berger or Green & Black’s.

The cookies are sizeable and attractive, in addition to being extraordinarily tasty. I took the base recipe from Neiman Marcus, though I have no idea why a company that produces high-end clothes would also create anything as homey as a chocolate chip cookie. I made two main alterations. The first was extremely small, simply reducing the recommended amount of instant espresso powder because I believe a chocolate chip cookie should taste more like chocolate than coffee. The second alternation I took from Dorrie Greenspan, who always recommends buying chocolate in solid bars and chopping it yourself instead of using prepackaged chocolate chips. It is often a pricey substitution, but I have found it worth it in each instance of employing the practice.

I have re-written the directions that correspond with the recipe in an attempt to make them more intuitive and tailored to the individual who lacks an electric mixer. It should also be noted that the cookies are best when enjoyed while still cooling, as they are chewy and moist without being unpleasantly doughy. When packed in an airtight container and consumed later, the cookies tend to crisp up a bit, but in an enjoyable way rather than tasting stale. However, if you wish to bring back the chewy texture, simply pop it in the microwave for ~12 seconds (depending on the microwave), or until the chocolate is once again melty and the cookie breaks softly instead of cracking when you break it.

Modified Neiman Marcus Chocolate Chip Cookies

Ingredients:
½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened
1 cup light brown sugar, packed
3 TBS granulated sugar
1 large egg
2 tsps. vanilla extract
1 ¾ cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. instant espresso powder
1 ½ cups (~9 oz.) chopped bittersweet or semisweet chocolate (I prefer bittersweet)

Note: Instant espresso powder is NOT the same as instant coffee, which is much coarser in texture and in taste. If you cannot find instant espresso powder, I would recommend skipping this ingredient rather than using instant coffee as a substitute.

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 300 degrees F. Cream the butter with the sugars using a wooden spoon, making sure to break up all the lumps in the brown sugar. Mix until homogenous.

2. Beat in the egg and vanilla extract with the wooden spoon. Add espresso powder and mix until evenly distributed.

3. In a separate bowl, combine flour, salt, baking soda, and baking powder with a wire whisk or a fork.

4. Slowly add the dry ingredients to wet ingredients in 3 parts, mixing each addition with the wooden spoon until just combined.

5. Use a rubber spatula to gently incorporate your chopped chocolate bits into the dough.

6. Line your baking sheets with parchment paper.

7. Using a teaspoon and your hands, form large, rounded lumps of dough (~2 TBS each – it should feel like a small handful when rolling, about the size of a ping pong ball) and place them on your baking sheet ~ 3 inches apart.

Note: Make sure to give the cookies the proper space, as they will expand.

8. Flatten each ball with the flat part of your palm.

9. Bake for about 20 minutes or until cookies are starting to lightly brown at the edges.

Note: If you want your cookies soft and chewy rather than crispy, do not let the tops of the cookies turn golden. Once you remove the cookies from the oven (they may look slightly underbaked at the “golden on the edges” point in baking), leave them on the hot sheet for a few minutes to let them continue cooking.

10. Using a metal spatula, remove the cookies from the sheets and place them on a wire rack to cool.

Yield: 24 cookies

The Green Arrow, The Green Lantern, and The Green ... Apron?

2008-03-07T07:31:00.000-08:00

There's an interesting mental dichotomy that develops when you find yourself in a position to call whatever you do from 9 to 5 your "day job." This implies what whatever it is you're doing, there's something else you secretly you wish you could do and be paid for. If you run into someone who loves his job, he'll just call it work, perhaps even with an enthusiasm you find slightly alarming. This may cause you to think to yourself, "What am I doing wrong in my life, that I should consider my daily occupation a means to pay the rent more than a means of personal fulfillment?"

And to that, I say to you, it is time to consider the lives and work of the fabled greats -- our superheroes. Take, for instance, Clark Kent. The guy can fly, but he's in a close-minded world that will only accept him as some sort of freakshow who devotes all his spare time to keeping planes from crashing. Does he like working at the Daily Planet, being bossed around by a woman he'll never have the cojones to ask on a date? Doubtful. Or does Peter Parker like being a lowly photographer at the Daily Bugle? Does the Green Lantern like being a cartoonist? Waitaminute why do they all work for newspapers?

Well, my point is that even fancypants Bruce Wayne would rather be traipsing around beating up bad guys on the dirty streets of Gotham than stuck in meetings overseeing how other people spend his money. So if you spend a great deal of your day eagerly anticipating returning to your "secret life" lived at night, you are not alone. Now I am by no means encouraging anyone to abandon their hopes of someday turning their part-time passion into a full-time profession. But if there are circumstances that prevent you from doing so, I urge you to continue your moonlighting with great relish. Those I've met who are able to maintain this balance are certainly my own personal heroes.

Excuse me while I change into my cape. Ahem.

And so, on to the recipe!

Banana Nut Bread

This recipe from JoyofBaking.com is an impeccable creation, though my photo will not do it justice. The resulting bread has a rich caramelized taste, which was surprising to me given the use of white sugar instead of brown. Find the recipe here.

Notes:

- This recipe lacks a streusel for the top of the loaf, but I think it's an appropriate omission. The bread is complex enough, between the nuts and the bananas, and the taste holds its own.

- I used an 8 1/2 x 4 1/2 inch loaf pan, which required slightly more attention to the top of the loaf to prevent it from burning. As a general rule, most recipes will tell you if the top of your quick bread is browning too fast, you should make a loose "tent" over the top with aluminum foil. Just put some foil over the bread (with a little space in between the foil and the bread so that the bread is not smothered) and bend the aluminum foil around the shape of the pan. I perform this step with oven mitts on -- if you're removing the still-baking loaf from the oven to create the tent, the loaf pan will be very hot.

- The recipe directs you to toast the nuts prior to baking, but this is a delicate step, as the nuts can easily burn. Because I am lazy, I skip it entirely, and have not found the resulting bread to be deficient in any way.

- Storage: If you are serving this bread the day after baking, simply wrap the bread tightly with plastic wrap the day before and leave it on the counter at room temperature. I find that refrigerating it for a day does not yield benefits proportionate to the cost of having to warm it up when serving.

- Serving suggestions: The dense nature of Banana Nut bread lends itself to being cut into thick slices and then cutting each slice in half prior to serving. Some eat it with cream cheese, but I like it plain.

Coffee Cake v 1.0 Aftermath

2008-03-04T12:01:00.000-08:00

So while I anticipated the office reaction to the cake would be one of "Well at least it's sweet and I didn't pay for it" dismay, the responses were overwhelmingly favorable. As it turns out, the molten layer, once it has cooled, becomes much less obtrusive (albeit still jarring). Here are my goals for the next time around:

- Create a proper, crumbly streusel
- Eliminate the molten sugar layer while retaining some of the brown sugar richness of flavor
- Make it clear to everyone at the office that a coffee cake may actually contain no coffee whatsoever, but is often so named for its role as a pleasant accompaniment to the beverage

Baby’s First Coffee Cake – An Experiment In Terror

2008-03-02T20:50:00.000-08:00

Every bakery, whether situated far within the reaches of your daydreams or just down the street, requires a few staple items. I have established that coffee cake should be one of mine. Of course, prior to today I had never made a coffee cake. For days, the tiny rat of my imagination has been running endlessly on the “what should I put in my coffee cake” wheel inside my head.

Here are the parameters I have chosen so far.

- There should be no fruit
- The cake should be simple and tasty and largely plain, rather than loaded down with spice or gimmicks
- Streusel is a necessity

Now, one of the best parts of having a fantasy bakery rather than a real one is that you can afford to make mistakes. Imagine the pressure of having your own establishment. When I allow my mind to wander off into this Let’s Just Say I Have This Bakery theoretical land, I often fancy myself having many regular customers. And how would they feel if they came in to order their favorite coffee cake, only to have it replaced by one that was (in theory) far more creative and exciting, but (in practice) turned out to be nothing more than a self-indulgent experiment?

Thankfully for me, I have no such adoring public. This freedom naturally lends itself to the frequent occurrence of what is known in my family as an Experiment In Terror. This term simply refers to a cooking adventure that you hope will turn out well, but just in case it doesn’t, the name itself is a built-in disclaimer. No shattered hopes here!

So after consulting a few websites (and taking a base recipe from epicurious.com which you will see modified in its EIT form below), I took a stab at it. One should note that this is not the final recipe product, but only one of many iterations. I’m including the recipe for the sake of documentation. After all, the cake’s overall taste was exactly what I wanted. My only problems were that I 1) executed the streusel very poorly and instead made a sort of paste on top that hardened into a crust, and 2) because of my poor streusel execution, I ended up with a molten layer of brown sugar and spices in the middle of my cake. If only that layer had been thinner, it might’ve actually been novel and welcome. Instead, it was a little jarring and somewhat resembled maple syrup. I’ll have to think about that one.

Coffee Cake v 1.0

Ingredients:
1 cup sugar
½ cup butter, room temperature
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon almond extract
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup sour cream
½ teaspoon allspice

Directions:

1. Butter an 8 x 8 x 3 inch baking pan and preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.
2. Cream butter and sugar in a large bowl.
3. Add eggs and extracts; beat well.
4. In a separate bowl, whisk dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, allspice) to combine.
5. Mix ½ of the dry ingredients into the butter mixture.
6. Mix sour cream into the butter/dry ingredient mixture.
7. Mix remaining dry ingredients into the larger bowl.
8. Bake for approximately 50 to 60 minutes, making your initial check at 50. Remove from oven when a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean.
9. Place pan on a wire rack to cool before serving.

Kitchen Comforts?

2008-02-28T10:53:00.000-08:00

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

2008-02-26T10:34:00.000-08:00

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)

2008-02-25T20:21:00.000-08:00

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.