Aloha Bakers - Lemon Icebox Cake

This week's bake was light and frothy, except for one bit, which was hard and knotty. First, let it be said, that this is my kind of cake. Billed as an icebox cake, a term I usually associate with wafer cookies and whipped cream, but which really applies to any cake that is as much cream as cake and needs some refrigerator time to truly come into its destiny.
This little beauty started out with a light lemony sponge/angel food, baked in a tube pan. Mine came out slightly wet and salty, but very workable. Next, a lemon curd is mixed into whipped cream is mixed into a gelatinized meringue. All went well until the gelatinization process, which was also around where I shorted out my scale with some spillage. Since it was clear that everything did not weigh 57555@#@$@ grams, I had to go on back into volume measures, which always makes me grumpy. Then, the gelatin just seemed...too stiff. I added a bit more water, and heated it up some more, but in the end what I ended up with were many knotty rubbery lumps and a bit too much water in the whole, which leaked out over the next few days as it rested in the refrigerator. If you look carefully at the photo of the completed cake, you can see a gelatin lump (slightly browner) discoloring the lower right hand quadrant.

I certainly wouldn't have sold it at a bakery, but I would certainly make it again and not screw it up so much. It was much admired at my workplace, lumps and all.

Alpha Bakers - Lemon Posset Sponge

A quick and easy recipe this week--or at least easy. One sponge cake (let's not kill ourselves and call it shortcake), covered in a quick lemon cream. Right up my street. A few special things:

1. The sponge included brown butter. Brown butter is a very good idea. Deb over at Smitten Kitchen tends to suggest brown butter even when it isn't called for. Since I have some leftover, I will probably take her advice soon.

2. The sponge is brushed with lemon syrup and then with apple jelly. There was no apple jelly to be had at the approximately 17 gourmet stores and delis near me, so I settled for pear. Pear jelly is also a very good idea.

The recipe was for individual sponges, but my Maryann pan is a single, and I was taking it to work anyway, so I just made the one. I had a few flour balls in the bottom but just picked them out with a knife tip.

3. Posset is fun. Posset is all of the medieval children's books I used to read. Posset is nursery sponge and jam and mysterious things people in books eat that I never really knew were things. Posset is just cream thickened with, in this case, sugar and Meyer lemon juice. Posset posset posset. Drink your posset. Posset is fun. My posset was creamy and nice, and a little mild for my taste. Regular lemons next time.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Torta de Tres Leches

Photo by Stan Schapiro

This week's Heavenly Cake was a free choice--a chance to reprise a cake made before I joined the group. The Torta de Tres Leches is a lean biscuit cake, soaked in a milk mixture (cream, milk, sugar, condensed milk) overnight, then topped with whipped cream. I added a few blackberries to cut the sweetness, and it went over very well with the extended tasting panel. Whenever I bake at my parents' house in MA, I somehow seem to contrive to invite people over to eat it all, whereas at home I often have trouble getting rid of cake. Perhaps all of my friends are now inured to the novelty of baked goods.

The tasting panel was enthusiastic, although they refused to write down pithy, witty commentary on an index card, citing exhaustion. Several did, however, reach for a second slice. As this was a cake heavy on the dairy and the next best thing to a pudding, I myself was all over it. The photos from my dad's iphone may not do it total justice, but if you're like me, you're somewhat impressed that my dad has an iphone, so there you are. Also, my parents excel at serving platters, and the combination of Mexican plates and fiestaware was ideal for cake display. There's still half a cake, though, so if anyone's in Northampton, feel free to come by and make it disappear.

Photo by Stan Schapiro

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Apple Caramel Charlotte

I signed up for this because I like heavily involved, ridiculously detailed baking projects, right? Yeah, make that sometimes. This is not to say that I didn't enjoy most steps of making the Apple Caramel Charlotte from Rose's Heavenly Cakes. I did. I like eating sponge cake and freezing cake layers and whipping cream just fine.

The final dessert was also good, and I should know as I have eaten far too much of it, but not really quite at the payoff level that it should have been for so much input. It might just be the competition--fall's first apples are just starting to take off in New York, and there is simply no way of cooking them that does them justice. Baldwins! Russets! Macouns!

And what is Trader Joe's selling? Mushy-looking Fujis, Galas, and Granny Smiths from New Zealand and Chile. How does that even work? Isn't it only spring down under? Are those seriously storage apples from last year's crop? Unpleasant thought.

As usual, I made some small changes to the recipe (honestly, I usually alter recipes without even really thinking about it or noticing, and don't even consider my tweaks noteworthy unless I substitute a major protein or switch chiles in for kumquats, or something). I didn't have apricot jam, so I used cherry, which I didn't strain. I also didn't have Calvados in which to poach the apples, so I improvised with some rose wine, some cider vinegar, and a little cranberry shrub.

Here is the recipe in short, for those of you not yoked to the book this weekend: Make sponge cake, cut into geometric patterns. Layer with jam, and the layered stack. Poach apples in various liquids with vanilla bean. Incorporate poaching liquid into yolky custard. Chill. Make Italian meringue. Chill. Whip cream. Blend the previous three steps. Line cake mold. Pour in cream. Arrange poached apples in a rose formation on top. Chill.
And that's the short version. I really don't mind finicky steps, I promise. But Bavarian cream? Pastry cream or whipped cream would have been just as good. Truth is, though, I didn't make exactly the Bavarian cream I meant to, as I ran out of gelatin. I only used about 1/5 of the gelatin called for in the recipe, which meant that my Bavarian lost its main useful characteristic, setting firmly enough to cut slices from. It was creamy and good, though. The cake didn't so much slice as gloop, but no one seemed to mind. When I say no one, I mean mostly me. Lucky I only made a seven inch version. I am only eating it because it is cheaper than buying ice cream, anyway.

I skipped the final glaze on the poached apple rose, which was to be made from leftover poaching liquid. I honestly just forgot, but I'm devoutly grateful that I did, because the poaching liquid was better than any other component of the cake. Mixed with a little selzer, it became my new favorite home-made soda mix, a slightly fruity, vanilla-scented cream soda. There was only enough for a few glasses, and I hope to make more soon.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Chocolate Feather Bed

I think this is my first recipe repeat from Rose's Heavenly Cakes. The first time I tackled the chocolate featherbed, a flourless alteration of eggy cake and whipped ganache, was for the second night of Passover. I was flipping through the book just looking for a Passover cake, of which Rose provides several options, and came across this one. I noticed that it was not only Passover-friendly but actually gluten-free, which has become a recent necessity for some of my family members. It seemed, at the time, with about five hours to go before leaving for New Jersey, somewhat complicated, but I made a half recipe and managed to get it out there, where it was devoured despite the presence of about 15 other desserts (and around 20 guests).

Versatile and delicate, yet easy to travel with, the chocolate featherbed immediately became my cake-of-choice for seders, Passover birthdays, and gluten-free events. But, such is the rotation that when I first made it again, last Thursday, there was no event at all, other than my sister visiting, so she had to cut it up and take it to her friends.

On the natural assumption that no time crunch means more time to mess up, I immediately messed up my second attempt by misreading the directions. Rose directs the baker to bake two batches of batter, on two half-sheet pans. Possessing only one half-sheet pan and no occasion, I planned to halve the recipe, but somehow misunderstood and thought that two batches of batter would be used for each half. I made the correct amount of batter, (the recipe printed, which Rose instructs doubling) but in halves, and spread the first half onto the whole half-sheet pan. It came out OK, but a bit thin and dry. I made the second half on a smaller pan, and the cake the size of 1/4 the half-sheet pan. Got it?

On my first attempt, I had made the chocolate-gelatinized whipped cream option. This time, I went with the whipped ganache, which I thought was good, but also dried the cake a bit. Next time I am going to follow the example of several Heavenly Bakers and omit chocolate in the filling, using gelatin-stabilized plain whipped cream. I love whipped cream, and I think the color contrast would please me. Unless you cut it just right, and shave chocolate artistically, this cake's simple appearance belies its somewhat complicated making. With some nonpareils sprinkled on, it resembled a cafeteria sheet cake.

I usually don't include recipes for Heavenly Cakes, as this bake-along is also a promotion for the book, but if anyone wants this one, email me, it's easier than it looks.

Heavenly Cake Bakers: Pecan Torte with Coffee Cream

It's an excellent thing when the foremost authority on cake in the US is also a New York Jew. Not only is her cradle taste sensibility delightfully Eastern European--cream, levkar, coffee, etc...but her repertoire includes many flourless or flour light cakes suitable for Passover, and Marie at Heavenly Cake Place has kindly included two of these for the posting dates that fall on Passover this year.

I made this week's cake, the Pecan Torte with Coffee (Whipped) Cream, and it was very good, and seemed to sell well at the bakery, but this post will be a little conflicted because although pictures are scanty, my heart belongs to the Chocolate Featherbed cake I made for our actual Passover seder on Tuesday.

Still, although still dreaming of mounds of souffle chocolate and whipped cream, I didn't stint on the Pecan Torte, which consists largely of toasted pecans ground fine, sugar, and eggs whipped high. Working at the bakery early in the morning allows me to bake relatively free of distractions, so while I sometimes do odd things just because of the inattention of exhaustion, I am actually much more precise and conscientious than I usually am at home. And I take more pictures, of each step.

The eggs, separated.

The pan, filled and smoothed.

The cooled cake, unmolded and re-inverted. The deep grooves don't matter because it will be covered in coffee whipped cream. I considered frosting the bottom of the cake, with also sunk slightly into an attractive shallow depression like store-bought 'shortcake,' but in the end went with Rose's program because the cake widened at the base.

The whipped cream was a few steps, softening the gelatin, whipping with instant coffee, etc...but all in all the assembly was simple. This is a purist's cake, dark and light-textured and strong flavored. Miriam came by the bakery and ate it for breakfast, laughing as another girl wandered in to ask if we had any breakfast pastry.

I doubt that many Passover-observant Jews wander hopefully into the bakeries of my neighborhood, but someone liked the cake--about 2/3rds were gone when I strolled by around 4pm.
 

Tuesdays with Dorie: Cocoa-Buttermilk Birthday Cake

I made this week's TWD anniversary pick a few weeks ago, for Matt's birthday. We didn't have a party, so it turned out to be a lot for us to eat alone, but it was delicious, filled with pear butter and frosted with hazelnut whipped cream. I left out the optional addition of melted chocolate and the result was very simple and light. The recipe can be found here.

Tuesdays with Dorie: Sour Cherry Blanc-Manger

I thought I'd wind up liking this week's TWD a bit more. It was good, but not wonderful, and anything that can be full of whipped cream and sour cherries and not be wonderful had better just give up and top a sundae, pronto.

Blanc-manger is an old school dessert, ground almonds, sugar, milk and whipped cream stiffened a bit with gelatin and permeated with frozen sour cherries, then chilled. It tastes exactly like you might think, and Sophie and I ate it from the container with a spoon (I made a half recpe), eating around creamy expanses to get at the cherries. Matt didn't really go near it.

Tuesdays with Dorie: Tiramusu Cake

Tuesdays with Dorie took a bit of a turn this week and became...Wednesdays with Stacey! When there's a Wednesday birthday party and an absurdly spectacular cake, they must, must, go hand in hand. If it hadn't been for Stacey's birthday, I might have scaled down this challenge to a small cake or cupcakes, as I usually don't have any use for a fully iced layer cake.
This week, though, I went in the opposite direction. Yes, I upscaled. I made the cake layers twice, because I found them a little tough the first time--and second time, I think it's just the difference between sturdy genoise and American-style fluffy cake. Or too much baking powder, as there were also large holes. I mixed the first batch by hand and the second by hand mixer, and the mixer results were slightly better. I also think that my oven might be too hot, as everything cooked very very quickly. But that might have been the baking stone the pans were sitting on. For the final cake, I used three of my four layers, with the original amount of frosting/filling. It was a little tight, but the final result is tall and imposing. (Although, I have to stop being lazy with my layers, and make sure to trim them properly and stack them up to ensure they all match before final assembly. My pans are just slightly different sizes).

Back to the cake. Tiramisu is always a bit too boozy and creamy for me (shocking, I know, that anything could manage to be so). I like my custards with a bit of egg. My favorite tiramisus, somewhat embarrassingly, are the deconstructed kind, where you get a pot of cream, a pile of ladyfingers, and a double espresso. Now that, I can get behind, especially because the coffee is bitter and not cloying.

Why doesn't my blog spellchecker like the word tiramisu? Did it miss the 80s and 90s entirely?
Dorie's cake recreation of tiramisu is pretty simple--layers of yellow butter cake, brushed with espresso-kahlua syrup, filled and iced with a mascarpone and whipped cream mix, with chocolate shavings sprinkled inside (I used white chocolate and cacao nibs). The full recipe can be found at My Baking Adventures. The whole thing looks good (haven't tasted yet), but I'll give even those of you who have no interest in complicated layer cakes a little tip: Make the frosting for any reason, anytime. Eat it with berries. Spread it on your fingers or child. Do not wait for too special an occasion. This is very very very good stuff. This is whipped cream and mascarpone and coffee. This is not for the faint of heart.
See how spooky it is?

Luckily, our Stacey is nothing of the kind, and I am hoping that she will love her over the top, rich, tall, and handsome birthday cake, and have a wonderful wonderful year. I'll be making her wedding cake this summer, and chronicling that process (my first wedding cake) right here. She's a delight to make a cake for. Happy birthday, Stacey.

(Thanks to the obliging Christopher the blackberry shots)

Tuesdays with Dorie: Banana Cream Pie

I'm behind, I'm bewildered, I'm bothered and busy. I barely made banana cream pie. But I love banana cream pie. Only crazy people and custard-phobes don't love banana cream pie. And, I suppose, a few people who unaccountably abhor bananas. But for me, banana cream pie is just great. Cream. Banana. Custard. Pie. This particular pie, which I'd made once before for the great pie extravaganza of 2008, is exceptional in every way, from the cinnamon pastry cream to the sour cream whipped cream. Cream cream cream. Of course, since we're trying pretty hard to eat like normal people and less like pastry chefs, who needs all that cream in the house? And when I'm trying to write five papers in one month and Matt's trying to be in a play, even the time to properly make and admire the banana cream pie is lacking. And it's Pesach. Still, it was banana cream pie.
So I made it. That lumpy thing above is the crust, with some buckwheat subbed in for some of the flour--buckwheat and bananas are a very good thing. I made it in a tart pan because I don't have any adorable little six inch springforms or pie plates. This is something I'm thinking about investing in, though, because seriously, what is the sense of making a nine inch pie for a family of two? Also, I was out of tin foil, so the prebaking was a little haphazard. (Are you getting a sense of what kind of week this was yet?)

I also managed to undercook the pastry cream and not care enough to take the two minutes to fix it, so the bottom layer was runny. After that, I lost patience and fixed the rest by cooking it a little longer, then dumped it on. I like this best a few hours after assembly, so the banana has time to permeate the pastry cream fully. It was a mess, but tasted wonderful.
Some time soon, banana cream pie, I promise to make you with proper attention and love, because you're a wonderful dessert. As it is, I might be scaling back on TWD this month, which is a lot of cakes and cream pies. Next week I may just make the Amaretti for the Chocolate Amaretti Torte. We'll see. As I said, it's going to be a busy month, but I'm still here. When Pesach is over, we'll see what we can do about the next step in the gingerbread project (hint, no one has shared any recipes yet...), and about more thoughtful blogging as CSA season and our rooftop garden get started up.
Meanwhile, there's sponge cake and matzo toffee crunch somewhere around here. Excuse me.

Thanksgiving Mystery Confection, Part II

Ladies and gentlemen...the Princessetarte!Genoise brushed with a sugar syrup, layered with jam, whipped cream, and pastry cream, and topped with a thin layer of marzipan. It's apparently big in Sweden and parts of the midwest, and they sell a frozen version at IKEA. I've made this twice before (actually twice in the same weekend) and it was a big hit, but this version, via Martha Stewart Living, wasn't quite on the ball. It might have just been me, I was doing bits and pieces of it at odd hours, but the cake was tough and eggy, the pastry cream a touch lumpy, and nothing was quite as it should have been. It was still delicious, though, and so much fun to play with.
This is a terrible picture, but I wanted to give some idea of the interior. It just wasn't that popular--a little wet, a little weird, a little green, and the cake a little too tough. Quite frankly, even I, who loves every component of this cake and have loved previous versions, wasn't too impressed. People ate it, though, even as they muttered about all that cream. The next day we nibbled leftovers but mostly stole the whipped cream out for our pumpkin pie. And it wasn't like we were hurting for desserts. Below is just a small sampling, including chocolate layer cake, meringues by Dottie, and brown butter spoon cookies.The star of the show, though, and probably the only thing we needed, was my mother's glamorous fruit platter.

Thanksgiving Mystery Confection, Part I

Thin eggy genoise...

Bubbling cornstarch and egg yolk goo...What am I?

Matt Makes Dinner: Fettucine Alfredo with Shrimp

Because I'm the one writing it, this blog can have a pretty narrow focus at times. It can appear that I am the only one in our kitchen, messing around, taking far more time than I should and barricading the rest of the world. This impression, however, is wrong in more than one way. First, I haven't lived alone for over nine years, and then only briefly. I've always cooked for and with a family of some composition. Many of my roommates, friends, and ex-wives are wonderful and opinionated cooks, and even those who don't cook made strong impressions on my kitchen adventures by means of their palates and grocery shopping habits. Integrating foodways can be one of the most interesting and most challenging parts of living with someone. Also, I love to cook with people, and for people, and so my cooking, while informed by my personal interests and tastes, is inextricably bound up with my friends and family.

Which brings me to Matt making dinner. This is not an unusual event. Although I don't feature his work here enough, Matt loves to cook and to eat good things, and has strong opinions and talents in the kitchen. He excels at the grill, and prefers pure ingredients cooked simply and well over complicated, fussy creations. His scrambled eggs, as I've mentioned, are perfect. He likes to experiment (and has several unusual cooking show pilots in the works--more on this later), but understands the worth of a well-executed standard. Because he knows so firmly what he likes, he is an instructive audience to cook for, and his commentary is very welcome, especially because he's willing to try anything.

I love learning to cook with people whose basic methods are different than mine, learning their techniques and favored ingredients, their strengths and weaknesses. For instance, there's Libby and me on salad: I underdress, and often forget to make one, she loves them, and piles on not only plenty of dressing but an overload of good things (chickpeas, corn, and craisins topping the list). Having someone in the house who cooks along very different lines helps to vary the whole way we live.

The other night, after I'd draped the oven and a chair or twoin parsley flecked fettucine, Matt got to work on a cream sauce, via Mark Bittman, spiked with saffron and egg. The end result was simple, beautiful, and delicious, as is most of Matt's cooking.And who knew, a year ago, that I would adore shrimps so much after a 26-year hiatus? More on Matt's cooking and our cooking and eating together to come. I want this blog to chronicle not just my cooking, but a whole way of life and living with food, which is why I detail our CSA, our friends, our grocery shopping, and the pressures of the world outside.