Alpha Bakers - Marble in Reverse

Costumes are the greatest. If someone would just make me a costume every morning and lay it out for me, I would never stop cosplaying. I love dressing up, especially if someone else does the hard part. When it goes well, I love Halloween, especially because I also love candy and running around outside at night. This year, most of the running around was done during the day, but I did get the chance to see some suburban costume action (first prize to the 10 year old girl who went all in as a toilet). 

The sugary part of the night was embodied in a ridiculous birthday cake that I made for my dear friend, the second in a yearly series of cakes based on Herrell's Ice Cream flavors. Last year I made 'Cafe L'Orange' in fluffy sponge and coffee mousseline. 

This year, the flavor inspiration was Malted Chocolate & Vanilla. The final product was an unfrosted beauty alternating layers of banana cake and chocolate chip malt cake with layers of chocolate malted Bavarian cream, malted whipped cream and Whoppers. 

 

After all that cake-making, I didn't think I had enough chocolate left to make the reverse marble bundt that was this week's Alpha Baker project, but I plundered the leftover Halloween candy (news flash: orange KitKats are great) and made my marble out of fun size Hershey bars instead of the the dark chocolate called for. I threw in the towel when it came to making the ganache topping, though. Enough is enough. 

The cake came out beautifully, with a very light texture. I sent a picture to a friend, who exclaimed that it looked 'delicious and also a bit like a butt.' 

Alpha Bakers -- Rose Red Velvet

I have a complicated relationship with Red Velvet cake. I don't get the hype, but I love gratuitous food coloring, and I never turn down cream cheese frosting (or whipped cream, which is this recipe's garnish of choice. Red Velvet and I have agreed to disagree, and I usually just enjoy the fact that I get to make such a recognizably pleasing cake that holds a special place in many other people's hearts. In this case, the Rose Red Velvet as written takes the concept of RED to a bigger, better place. 

First of all, bundt pans are amazing. Second, NordicWare makes some bundt pans that really impress, and usually all I have to do is pull a cake out of my Heritage bundt (or, in Rose's cake, their rose bundt) and people think I'm a baking genius. 

In this case, however, the baking genius bought some crappy off-brand baking spray at Pathmark and the results were...unimpressive. 

I don't do cake pops, so folks at work were forced to be unimpressed with a container full of scraps. They were dutifully underwhelmed. I did do another run, though, with some modifications (ran short on baking powder, glazed with the reduced syrup of Trader Joes' cherries), and the look was much finer.  The texture didn't suffer too much from the low baking powder addition (and can we talk about the fact that I ran through a container of baking powder in about two months), but I also ran low on food coloring so I couldn't get that glaring artificial red. Consider this the entirely artificial organic beet juice look. Next week's cake is called the 'Double Damage Oblivion.' I'm sure it's a spare little cupcake.

TWD Follow-Up: Classic Banana Bundt

Tuesdays with Dorie is in valedictory mode, with Dorie on Talk of the Nation, and articles in major papers all over the country.

The Tuesdays with Dorie group is moving on to Baking with Julia, a twice-monthly affair.

But me. As I’ve pointed out, I’m not done. Not every goal gets finished. Not every cheesecake gets made. Still, I’m keeping my list, like I keep all the lists of my goals, and because this one can be done in small increments, I’m going to keep at it. For what reason? Not sure. But all the same, I do it.

This week, I did it in the form of a banana-pumpkin bundt cake. It was supposed to be a Classic Banana Bundt Cake, but I wanted to save one of my bananas for a smoothie, so the roasted leftovers of our squash chanukkiah were pressed into service.

The original host of this recipe was Mary of The Food Librarian, who later went on to develop quite the bundt cake obsession, making 30 in 30 days two years in a row.

Dorie recommends wrapping the cake and serving it the day after baking, also frosting it with a simple lemon-confectioners sugar glaze. The latter inadvertently helped us do the former, because Matt was put off by the word lemon, and it took him a while to warm to the idea of the cake, which we both loved.

So the project continues. Slowly. Everything happens slowly here lately, perhaps in reaction to the feeling that time is rushing by, out of control. So many big changes are upcoming, it’s good to still have a few bundts to bake.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Swedish Pear Almond Cream Bundt

Photo by Matt.

Long story short, delicious sour cream bundt cake filled with pears, frangipane (almond cream), and vanilla. Slightly sweeter than your average yogurt cake, but very elegant.

Lucky for you all, Leonard Lopate has kindly secured the recipe for the internets. I slammed this little beauty together in the calm before Saturday's wedding storm, with some farmers market bosc pears and some almond paste that had just happened to be hanging out in the refrigerator for a very long time (luckily still soft).

Tuesdays with Dorie: Apple-Quince Bundt

Most of you readers know that I belong to several online baking groups (how could you miss it), but it has occurred to me that many of you who don't also belong to said groups may not have any real context for what I'm doing here. I joined all of these groups because I wanted to have weekly recipe assignments and really delve into certain cookbooks or techniques, but along the way I have become fascinated by the communities that make up each group.

The group that started it all was Tuesdays with Dorie, a baking challenge started by Laurie Woodward of Slush. It began as a challenge between a few friends, and quickly grew almost out of control. Laurie, however, girded her loins and took real charge, and now runs her unexpected kingdom like a serious pro. The group is now closed to new members, and has some simple rules--you have to make at least two out of every four recipes, and post on Tuesday. I usually make at least three out of four monthly recipes, though I'm not always stellar about posting on time. Beyond the recipes, the TWD bakers are a mixed lot, but mostly they are home bakers (many I would characterize as down-home bakers), many of whom just want to make some chocolate, many of whom are in it to expand their comfort zones. 


Some of them, presumably unknowingly, are also in the business of expanding my comfort zones. I'm about as stereotypical an Eastern liberal as you can get--Jewish, raised in Western MA, living in Brooklyn, NY, where the majority of my family comes from, Seven Sisters, artist, librarian, Democracy Now-loving, huge believer in social services, foodie...well, you get the point. Some of my fellow TWD-ers, not to put too fine a one on it, do not fit this profile. They're from all over the country, from many walks of life. I have a vague impression that many of them are home-schooling Mormon moms (this may be a broad impression gained from just one or two blogs, conflated). That impression may be a little general, but it is true that many of them are mothers, many live in places very unlike Brooklyn, and many are religious in a way that is very different from the religion of many of the people I know. We do not all share a political viewpoint, to put it mildly. Some of us, hell probably a lot of them (I am not included in this category, for better or for worse) would rather never talk politics on the intertubes. We vary in age from college students to grandmothers. Some of us are more polite about leaving comments for one another, some of us (um, look over here) were never cheerleader types and rarely leave messages say 'You did a great job!,' much as we may appreciate them.

A random sampling from this morning's blogroll, just to show how limited the above descriptions are:


Nichi, from Bakeologie, is a certified pastry chef with a degree from Le Cordon Bleu Patisserie & Baking Program at the California School of Culinary Arts in Pasadena. She makes her living at a computer software company, and is, incidentally, a better blog designer than I.


Amy, of Amy Ruth Bakes, is a mother of teenagers, a very witty writer, and has a beautiful aesthetic sense in her plating. 


April, of Short + Rose, lives in Memphis, and, in her own words, "like[s] to bake, knit, garden, travel and hang out with awesome people. [She] hate[s] hot weather, mosquitoes, rude people and answering the phone." She has a second blog about infertility and Canadian emo plays on her site.

Mary Ann of Meet Me in the Kitchen stages Ancient Greek cafes with her kids. 

There are legions more of us, including French, Aussie, and German members, and many Americans living abroad. There is, as far as I know, one man participating. As you can see from the brief sampling above, variety is king. In addition to their blog posts, I get to know these people from Q&A forums on the TWD site, where everyone shares issues and queries about the recipes. There's no final moral here, no 'we all bake and blog, and it brings us together' moment. But I do like being a part of TWD, this odd little affiliation.

This week's recipe for TWD was a Double Apple Bundt Cake. The double in the title comes from the use of apples in two forms, grated and apple butter. I didn't have any apple butter, so I used a slightly tart quince paste I made with last year's quinces. Being so acidic, it's held up well in the refrigerator, but I decided it really was time to get it used up, as this year's quinces were coming in. It added a slightly sharp and tart note to this soft and sweet cake. The cake was wonderful, but it wasn't going to keep for long on the counter in the hot humid weather of last week, so I had to put most of it into the refrigerator. I thought refrigeration ruined the texture, as it was a butter cake, but Matt didn't mind.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Genoise Bavarian

The Genoise Rose cake from Rose's Heavenly Cakes is a genoise designed to be strong enough to bake in a moulded shape. As you might guess from the name, Rose herself likes to make this cake in a florally designed bundt pan. I used my Bavarian bundt pan. Marie, the host of the Heavenly Cake Bakers, mentioned that this cake really could be on the 'quick and easy' list, despite the additional steps of browning butter and the long beating times.  Maybe after all this cake baking we're just improving t the point where more and more previously intimidating activities seem quick and easy.

The one place that I failed a bit was in mixing in the flour--I was too timid, and left some flour/cornstarch lumps in the finished cake. These didn't impair its flavor or texture, which, due to the use of whole eggs, was moist for a genoise, but they weren't pretty. The cake sank a bit as well, so it looks mildly squished in the picture.

The final step of the recipe is the application of a syrup (Rose directs the use of one made from Grand Marnier). I think that a syrup would have added to the elegance and longevity of the cake, but I don't really like liquor syrups, and I just loved the cake plain, so that went by the wayside. Unsyrup-ed, the cake tasted oddly and exactly like my family's Passover sponge cake recipe, and indeed the ingredient list and method is pretty comparable. I enjoyed this cake but I don't think I developed it to its full potential. Since it is quick, and easy, perhaps there'll be a next time.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Gateau Breton

This week's Heavenly Cake was the quick and buttery Gateau Breton. Ground almonds, butter, flour, and not much more. I actually made this back in March on one of those days when I just got an itch and had to bake something. Matt took it to his writers' lab, where it was largely ignored but lauded by those who tried it, although the general feeling seemed to be that it was 'breakfast-y.' I think it would probably be good anytime, despite the deceptive simplicity.

This weekend's Heavenly Cake baking was actually an advance on the cake coming up in two weeks, and included all kinds of chocolate, shininess, and gold leaf. One week rustic, the next week Bernachon. Thanks, Rose.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Saint-Honoré Trifle

It may sound French and look British, but this one here is unmistakeably an All-American Trifle. When the stern face of Honest Abe looks out over your creamy concoctions, you know that you've baked something socially significant, a dessert with integrity. A truly trustworthy trifle.

                       

Three shows, one bake sale, two final projects, and five visiting family members pushed this Heavenly Cake back a little, and simplified its scope. Would you believe that that creamy, fluffy, fruity parfait was actually supposed to have two MORE elements--a whipped cream topping and a spun sugar hat. Having whipped quite enough cream into the interior Chiboust pastry cream (delicious. amazing.), I left off the whipped topper, and decided to leave spun sugar for another, less humid day in Brooklyn. Having sustained a few nasty burns at the bakery this weekend, I wasn't overeager to punch up my caramel blister cred. And don't worry, Heavenly Bakers, I'm sure I'll get around to it soon.

I quartered the recipe, which was meant to make one huge bowl-sized trifle, and wound up using even less than the recommended amount of cake since a lazy sifting cake process left me with cornstarch lumps on the bottom of the six-inch pan. I just cut the bottom off, and had plenty to work with. Trifles just seem to beg for ingredient substitutions, and this one had plenty. Instead of orange marmalade, I used apricot preserves to spread the bottom of the cake layers, which were moistened by cherry juice and Campari (which is the current medium for my homemade vanilla jar). Instead of the recommended strawberries, I used David Lebovitz's candied cherries, which I recently made from a jar of cherries in syrup, and which I've lost my heart to entirely.

The Chiboust cream, a gelatin-supported pastry cream, was flavored with abundant vanilla seeds from the Ugandan vanilla beans (take that, Tahiti and Madagascar) that Liana smuggled home for me. Unlike the dried-out haul that I lugged back last January, these beans are fat, wet, and lush. I can't wait to put them in absolutely everything.

The trifle was finished so late last night that it wasn't even tasted, as Matt had already had his ice cream, and Liana 'doesn't like sponge cake,' (who raised her?). I think it will be better anyway with some blending time. Every component was of course tasted along the way, and was perfect. Now all I need to do is emulate my mother and get myself an extensive collection of sundae and parfait glasses, and I'll be all set.

Tuesdays with Dorie: Mocha-Almond Bundt Cake

 Not bad for a cake I started baking after midnight. I have a strange psychological 'midnight line,' where serious conversations or tasks become difficult for me after that magic hour--I can't watch the news, or discuss household crises, or really do anything useful, so when I get it together to turn out a quite decent bundt cake, I'm pleased with myself. Matt does usually have to wake me up to tell me the timer's going off, but, well, he's nice enough to do it, so there we are.

Coming off a week of Passover abstinence (if stuffing matzo muffins and brisket into my face with abandon can be called any such thing), I was excited about a cake, any cake. This one was a nice buttery bundt, made with ground nuts (Dorie suggests walnuts, I used the almonds on hand), instant coffee (I used regular espresso grounds), and some chocolate for good measure. I made it in my newest bundt pan, which is a little thin and cheap, and has many tiny ridges. I think from now on it's going to need a spray of Baker's Joy or something similar, but I managed to get the cake out without serious damage. It's a bit heavy, but Dorie says that up front, and in this cake, I think that's a buttery virtue. The nuts definitely add a good texture.

Tuesdays with Dorie: Coconut Tea Cake

A very nice cake I'll probably never make again, just given the limited opportunities for coconut baking in my home. I took this one to work and it did very well--it was dry, but pleasingly so, as Dorie mentions. I was going to add sesame seeds and make the sesame version, which seemed very pleasingly old fashioned seed cake. However, I forgot until the cake was actually in the bundt pan, so they all were clustered on the bottom of the finished cake, making a kind of unusual concentration of sesame flavor.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Chocolate Apricot Roll with Lacquer Glaze

When I took on the Heavenly Cakes, I knew it wasn't going to be all bundts and lemon syrup.

This week, the cake complexity took a wild leap and landed in the weeds of roulades, glazes, and all kinds of ways to beat chocolate with sugar--the Chocolate Apricot Roll with Lacquer glaze. This was also the first cake I've made at the bakery, where I've grown very comfortable baking bread, but had to learn my way around all over again in the sweet department.

The main trick of this cake is the separate creation of a number of parts, and then the perfectly timed assembly of said elements. It takes time, and some dexterity, and I have only a partial measure of each, so there were some errors. The final product, while very delicious and more or less elegant, could be improved by a few simple fixes that I learned as I went--too late for this time, but now I know. I don't know why I would expect anything so complicated to come out perfectly the first time.  My main flaw was probably impatience--at the bakery, my time is sometimes limited, and even when it isn't, I have no distractions to help me let things take their time, and often an incentive to clear a surface or finish a job quickly. As you'll see, these factors may have led me to rush this cake a bit.

This cake. This cake began with my first biscuit (bis-KWEE) roulade, a soft, flat sponge cake made on a half-sheet pan. The recipe was simple, although it has several steps. The biscuit is an eggy, butterless cake made with egg whites as the main leavener. There's plenty of whipping and folding, and at last it's all spread onto a lined half-sheet and baked very briefly. I'm still a bit unsure of what the bakery convection ovens will do to cooking times and browning, and I wound up taking the cake out after only 5 minutes of the recommended 8, because it was browned and seemed resilient. I might thus have slightly underbaked it, but only slightly, as the convection fans are powerful. However, I attribute any lack of firm height it later displayed to this underbake, and to a slight undercooling, I may not have let it take all of the time it needed as I needed to leave the bakery and get to my internship.

The ganache, too, lacked time to take its sweet time, because although I had intended to make it first, I had to leave it until second because I found I didn't know where the valve was on the stove in the bakery, and had to wait until Lily came in to show me (I'd guessed properly, but didn't want to take any chances).

Still, everything was looking pretty good as I worked my way through the five pages of the recipe. The apricot ganache went smoothly (I threw in a tablespoon of apricot filling instead of apricot brandy, and then I assembled the naked roll. Here, because I didn't let everything properly take its time, is where I believe the cake got a little squashed down and the ganache flowed as much as spread. I didn't make my own levkar, opting instead to use some stiff apricot filling that Lily had on hand, slightly moistened with water. The rolling was a little uneven, because the ganache was still flowing a bit, so the filling didn't end up entirely even, but it worked, a layer of apricot jam, a layer of ganache, roll that puppy up. I was impressed by how easily the soft cake rolled, as I'd always feared that would be the most difficult part of a roulade. I wasn't really thinking, though, of how close it is in nature to a crepe or pancake, which of course rolls easily.

At this point, I left my somewhat lumpy creation in the refrigerator, went to go catalogue news videos.

The next morning, as I set the bread to proof, I got to work on the lacquer glaze, which is the glaze on the cake on the cover of the book, and apparently a newish discovery (at least post-cake bible). The secret to its gloss is gelatin, whisked in at the last minute.I had some trouble with the glaze, which begins with melting some sugar and water over the stove. Although the sugar appeared melted, I feel that I may have left it a bit crunchy, which affected the liquidity of the whole. Next, cocoa is mixed into the sugar, which left it very stiff. Here is the place where I probably should have added a bit more water, but I was trying to follow the beaten path for once, and so I just put it back over the stovetop, whipped in cream, and brought almost to a boil. Then it cooled a bit, I whipped gelatin in, and there it was. When I saw the instruction to 'pour' the glaze over the cake, I knew there was a bit of an issue, as mine was more spreadable consistency. I spread it a bit, hoping it would magically smooth its gelatinized self out, but more predictably, it didn't, and I finally gave in, added more cream and a little heat to the remaining glaze, and had a thick, glossy finish to pour over the slightly lumpy log. It would have been better to avoid putting all the lumps on in the first place, as they didn't go away, but the finished product was satisfactorily slick and glossy.

I didn't get a great picture of the finished roll, and especially not of the middle, which was prettier, but here's what it looked like after I trimmed the ends.  And here below are the ends themselves, a sweet, chocolate-saturated, vaguely eastern European/Passover tasting creation. Lily was kind enough to humour me and put it in the case to sell--a few people even bought slices and liked it. Next time, more cooling for sponge and ganache, and more liquidity in the glaze, would make it perfect. The apricot faded into the background a bit under the chocolate avalanche, so next time I'd spring for the apricot liqueur to heighten the flavor.

But I no longer fear roulade.   

Heavenly Cake Bakers

The wheel has spun again...
Time has gone by, dreams have risen and fallen, kitchen scales have balanced out the sands of life...and I have joined another baking group. For those of you keeping score, this is the fourth, although I regret to say that I didn't stick with the Daring Bakers long. I think this had to do with the regulated irregularity of it--once a month was too infrequent to get into. I could do the BBA challenge because it was entirely self-regulated, but having to get something on time just once a month didn't leave enough margin of error. I haven't quite finished the BBA challenge (the hurdle of two very poorly peer-reviewed breads is putting a damper on my final sprint), but I plan to, and then I plan to focus, and stick closely to Tuesdays with Dorie till the end.

At least, that was the plan until a friend's generosity landed me with a brand new, very special book--Cake Master Rose Levy Beranbaum's Rose's Heavenly Cakes. A little glitzier and less endearingly geeky than her classic Cake Bible, Heavenly Cakes is a coffee-table style cookbook, aimed maybe a bit more at the ambitious non-professional, while retaining standards rigorous enough for anyone, pro or no. Whatever it is, I've been lugging it from room to room like a favorite stuffed animal.

A baking group is like a correspondence course--a slow mastery of technique in the privacy of one's own home, but in a blogging baking group, you get to share results and thoughts with all your classmates. I am lucky to have been allowed into the distinguished classmate company of the Heavenly Cake Bakers of Heavenly Cake Place. Might as well learn from the best, and Rose is the acknowledged expert on all things cake. This time, though, there's a bit of a twist, as Lily has agreed to allow me to make some of the cakes at the bakery, and put them in the case as one of a kind specials. As I hover in that pleasing void between amateur and professional baker, I think this is a very exciting step.

I started baking from the book the day that I received it, and so have already covered some of the older recipes that the group worked on before I joined, including the Golden Lemon Almond Cake (I added crystalized ginger, and ground my almonds with the skin still on for a slightly more rustic presentation, and the English Gingerbread Cake (with Lemon Butter Sauce)...and a version of the Southern (Manhattan) Coconut Cake on page 23, although the birthday girl preferred the classic seven minute icing to the Silk Meringue Buttercream Rose recommends.

This week, I entered the formal baking schedule with a 'Purim' cake, Rose's signature Lemon Poppy Seed Sour Cream Cake. I actually made this cake twice, because the first one broke coming out of the bundt pan (it's a tender, delicate cake, although reasonably easy to maneuver), and I was too proud to join a group without a perfect picture. Both times, though, the cake was superlative, and went a long way toward reconciling even Matt, who usually maintains that 'lemon conquers sweetness,' to lemon in dessert. This is about as Jewish a cake as you can get--only apple cake comes close, and so I feel less sad about having skipped my annual hamentaschen making than I could. While the cake style and flavors might be generally Jewish, though, the perfection of this version is all Rose. Tart, moist, crunchy, syrupy, and almost cottony, it is definitely the Platonic Ideal of lemon poppy cake.

One interesting baking note: the butter cakes in this book all use Rose's signature ingredient mixing sequence, which eschews creaming butter and sugar in favor of blending them right into the dry ingredients, then slowly moistening with the remaining elements. So far, so good, and it makes an easier job for my arthritic mixer.

So far, I've stayed pretty much in the bundt and unfrosted areas of the book, but all that changes next week, when the Chocolate Apricot Roll with Lacquer Glaze arrives to keep me on my semi-pro toes. Welcome to 'Mondays with Rosie,' as it were.

Tuesdays with Dorie: Milk Chocolate Bundt Mess

Ladies and gentlemen, it was messy. Very messy. A recipe was made, poured into a bundt pan, and baked. And stuck. In a big way. It was, as I said, messy. It was also pretty good. Not great, but buttery and good. Matt's take was that the chocolate flavor was subtle, more like cocoa than actual chocolate. Pictures soon, but I'll warn you, it's a bit of a mess.

Tuesdays with Dorie: All-In-One Holiday Bundt Cake

TWD is running amok this month--any recipe can be made for any Tuesday. Admittedly, I made the majority of this month's recipes in October...but since I haven't yet made the official one for this week (hold your breath for cranberry-apple crisp), I still relish the freedom. And the part where Dorie posted on my Caramel Chestnut post. That makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

Also warm and fuzzy, and far less complex than three layer chestnut confections was the All-In-One Holiday Bundt Cake, featuring almost every flavor associated with the Thanksgiving-Christmas season. Cranberries? Check. Pumpkin? Check. (Around here it was sweet potato, but no harm done) Apple? Check. Nuts? Check. (I used almonds). Spices? Check.  Kind of gimmicky? You'd think so, but it really works. This is just a simple, really, really good cake. The kind you eat with every meal of the day until it's gone. The kind your (my) mother likes. No, really. I'd suggest making it. The recipe is here.