Cake For A Change

 

I was too busy preparing and hosting on Thanksgiving to remember to photograph our table, our guests, and even what we cooked and baked.  

I wanted to finish in the kitchen, go out for a walk with Harry and Charlie, and their out-of-town visitor, Dolly, and then sit down for a while by the fire before gathering for our dinner. 

In addition to my apple pie, this year I thought a cake might be a nice addition.  Most everyone made the traditional selection of pie, so we ate pumpkin gingerbread cake all weekend.  I finished the last piece this morning.  I've shared other recipes from Gingerbread here before, and this one was as wonderful as the others.  The pumpkin cuts the intensity of the spice a bit, yet the overall flavor is definitely of gingerbread.

Pumpkin-Gingerbread Cake

adapted from Gingerbread

3 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

2 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon ground ginger

1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter at room temperature

1 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup packed light brown sugar

1/2 cup dark molasses

4 large eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

2 1/4 cups pumpkin puree (1 can of puree is 2 cups, so I added 1/4 cup of homemade rhubarb butter, or you could use apple butter or apple sauce)

Confectioner's sugar for dusting

Position a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Butter and flour a 10-inch tube pan.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves in a large bowl.

Put the butter in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat on medium-high speed until smooth.  Add the granulated and brown sugars and beat until light and fluffy.  Pour in molasses and beat until smooth.  Drop in eggs, one at a time, and beat for about 2 minutes, stopping at least once to scrape the sides of the bowl.  Add the vanilla extract, pumpkin puree, mixing until combined.  Reduce the mixing speed to medium-low and gradually add the flour mixture, beating just until incorporated.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 1 hour, or until the cake is dark chestnut brown in color, the top is cracked, and a wooden skewer inserted near the center comes out clean.  Set the cake on a wire rack to cool in the pan for about 15 minutes before turning out to cool completely.

Dust with confectioner's sugar.

August Eleven

My Imaginary Food Truck

If I had a food truck and decided to serve only one item, what would it be?  An article in the July/August issue of Saveur about Portland, Oregon's food truck scene sparked my imagination.  One vendor said she wanted to start her business out slowly by perfecting and selling only one dish, the national dish of her country.

Would my one food be sweet or savory?  A bread truck seemed the obvious choice, but sell just one type of loaf? 

If I went the savory route, I decided I would sell spaghetti and meatballs.  Everyone ought to have a good marinara sauce in their repertoire.  Then if all went well, I could add bread, salad, dessert...

If I took the sweet route?  Cake, I thought, because a simple cake can be breakfast or dessert.  My truck could be open morning through afternoon offering coffee and cake.

Either way, sweet or savory, the single item had to be a year-round option, no swapping out to meet the season.  Consistency seemed critical to making one dish well.

This week I tried out both of my imaginary food truck options.  For now, the simplicity of cake wins.  I could see myself with a mountain of these little upside down cakes, putting them in paper sacs, as customers placed their orders.  Not too many choices to make, no hemming and hawing except for deciding how many they think they can eat. 

I have been making this vanilla cake recipe from Donna Hay since Olivia turned two.  For years it was her birthday cake until chocolate ruled.  We make it in a round cake pan and cover the top with a powdered sugar design.  The upside down berry cake recipe calls for the cake batter and raspberries.  I used a mix of blueberries, blackberries and raspberries.  I substituted half the flour with whole wheat pastry flour to give this a little more nutritive value for breakfast.  I did not notice any sacrifice in lightness or flavor whatsoever.

Upside-Down Berry Cakes

adapted from Off The Shelf 

8 oz. butter

1 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3 eggs

1 cup all-purpose flour, sifted

1 cup whole wheat pastry flour, sifted

2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

10 oz. fresh or frozen blueberries, blackberries, raspberries or a combination

Place the butter and sugar in a bowl and beat until light and creamy.  Add the vanilla and eggs and beat well.  Sift together the flours and baking powder, and fold into the butter mixture.

Grease 18 muffin 1/2 cup muffins tins and place a small handful of berries in each.  Spoon the cake batter over the berries into each tin and bake for 20 minutes or until puffed and golden.  

Cool in the tins for 15 minutes, then carefully invert onto a wire rack.

Note:  Do your best to divide batter equally among the cups.  I had a more difficult time removing the cakes where the batter rose beyond the rims.  Loosen the cakes completely before removing from tin.

Bring the Garden in Friday with Meyer Lemon Rosemary Pound Cake

I've been really missing creating my "Bring the Garden in Friday" posts. For the next few months, until we're out turning the soil again, I'll be back with this Friday column once or twice a month.

The rosemary branches I snipped today had buds on them. It's January in Pennsylvania! I even collected a big bowlful of arugula last weekend.

This pound cake recipe caught my eye last Spring--I felt like it had me and my rosemary bush written all over it. This is some serious rosemary recipe. Three tablespoons in the pound cakes alone. I like that, though, most recipes are timid with their rosemary, and I am often liberal in my measuring.

After tasting my first loaves, I had two thoughts: too sweet and needs lemon.

I decided to give Meyer lemons a try. I have never bought them before, and our co-op has been getting them for a month or more now. I love their deep yellow color, and they were so much easier to zest than regular lemons.

I think they were just the right thing here, rounding out the sweetness from the honey and pungency of the rosemary, and adding a less assertive citrus flavor than typical lemon, almost an orange and lemon mix.

I'm a little envious of some of you out there in California picking these fruits off your trees, having so many you hardly know what to do with them. Meanwhile, I'm grateful to be bundling up in my parka, hat, and scarf, with scissors in hand and Harry underfoot to snip my budding rosemary.

I suppose it's a fair trade. What do you think?

Meyer Lemon Rosemary Pound Cake
adapted from Martha Stewart

2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pans and parchment
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup cake flour (not self-rising)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
Zest of 2 Meyer lemons
2 1/4 cups sugar
3 tablespoons finely chopped fresh rosemary
3 large eggs. plus 1 egg white
3/4 cup whole milk
1/4 cup Meyer lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
Rosemary Honey (recipe below)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter two 4 1/2 x 8 -1/2 inch loaf pans, and line with parchment, leaving a 1-inch overhang on each long side. Butter parchment. Whisk together flours, baking powder, baking soda, salt and lemon zest.
2. Beat butter, sugar and rosemary with a mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 4 minutes. Beat in eggs and egg white, 1 at a time. Reduce speed to low. Beat in flour mixture in 2 additions, alternating with the milk and lemon juice.
3. Divide batter between pans. Bake, rotating halfway through, until deep gold and a toothpick inserted in centers comes out with moist crumbs attached, 50 to 60 minutes. Brush cakes with some rosemary honey, and let cool for 10 minutes. Remove from pans, using parchment, and transfer to wire rack. Remove parchment and let cool for 15 minutes more before slicing. Serve warm with more honey if desired (although we eat ours as is!).
Storage: Cakes can be stored at room temperature for 1 day.

Rosemary Honey

1 cup light-flavored honey, such as clover
5 rosemary sprigs (3 inches each)

Bring honey and rosemary to a simmer in a small saucepan. Cook for 5 minutes. Remove from heat, and let steep until cool, about 45 minutes. Remove rosemary, or leave in for a stronger flavor.
Storage: Honey can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 1 week.

Meandering

After I told you about what happened, I figured I was back. I forgot quickly about the part where I admitted that I didn't fully know what that meant for things here in this space. I don't know how I could have swept that aside, but I did.

I jumped into my old way of thinking: let's tell them about all the zucchini recipes I tried, and about Olivia's Summer exploration of chocolate and mint, namely in the form of ice cream. My mind was galloping ahead.

The problem is that I'm not ready for my old way of thinking. I really did harvest a lot of zucchini and found some new favorite recipes, but the enjoyment was in baking the breads and cake and sharing them with friends. I wandered off after each one, never giving a thought to photographing or writing about any of it.

Despite our sadness, we had a full Summer. Beach, pool, lots of invitations.

Towards the end, I was racing the change of season to tell you the highlights, but honestly, what I really felt like doing is what this looks like to me.


Being in the moment. Reflecting. Following what's in my heart.

One minute I'm amassing piles of recipes, only to drift out into the garden to cut flowers and harvest vegetables, then coming back in to realize that there's no time to start baking.


Then, before I was ready, the produce season flipped.


My zucchini plants are pulled up, as are the cantaloupe and watermelon. The eggplant and peppers which were unhappy all Summer, are now coming forth.


I realized last week that I just have to give in and let myself meander.

In my kitchen, my gaze alights on the baskets with apples and pears. Olivia has been reminding me about pie, and there has already been a cake.

Looking for something of interest to photograph one sunny morning, my sight fell to a windowsill that held all those little things of Aaron's that came home in a treat bag or just seemed to collect and become the fabric of a house with children.


I don't know what I did after I took this photo, but I may have just left the stack of cookbooks on the kitchen table and went out to see if there were any zinnia's to cut or yellow pear tomatoes to pick.

That's where I am as September turns to October, and I begin to accept that this inside and out, one hour this idea and the next hour that desire is truly what being back means for now.

Spelt Cakes

This is hardly just an olive oil cake. It also has chunks of dark chocolate and a generous helping of fresh rosemary. Three of my favorite things together.

It is not a particularly sweet cake, so I've been eating it for breakfast. I am not a chocolate-in-the-morning kind of person, but the dark chocolate does go well with coffee. I almost find this cake a little disappointing as a dessert because it isn't as sweet as you might expect. Traditionally, I believe olive oil cakes are meant to accompany late morning or afternoon coffee or tea, or a simple dessert for a Sunday lunch.

The spelt flour adds a hint of graininess to make this olive oil cake rustic, and the dark chocolate adds an elegance. I link you to two versions of this recipe, in case you don't have this beautiful book to pull off your shelf.

This carrot coffee cake is a variation of the carrot muffin recipe. It's definitely breakfast fare--again, not too sweet, even with the streusel topping. In addition to the spelt flour, there is oat bran in both the cake and topping, which adds some nice texture.

It was refreshing not to have the typical additions of raisins and walnuts, which I associate with most carrot cakes. If you have a farmer's market open this weekend near you, I bet you can find some good, fresh carrots, even if they're not Spring ones, just yet.

Bring the Garden in Friday with Rose Scented Geranium Pound Cake

It may be October, but the daytime temperatures have been in the 70's the past few days.

At this time of year when the weather is good, I take to eating lunch in the sunshine on our patio steps. It seems silly really, when there is a table below, but somehow that spot gets the perfect amount of warmth. Sitting on the steps, I am amongst my geraniums, and amidst the pink, red and white flowers is one scented geranium.

I've managed to hold onto it for two Summers now, having brought it indoors last Winter. It doesn't bloom, but it has a lovely rose aroma when the leaves are rubbed.

Some of the leaves are beginning to yellow a bit, probably because it isn't getting as much sun, and I decided that now is the time to put it to culinary use before another Winter.

I made a half-recipe of a traditional pound cake and lined the bottom of a loaf pan with a few scented geranium leaves. I then poured the batter into the pan and baked the cake as usual.

When I opened the oven to check if the cake was ready, the rose scent billowed out. The leaves turned dark green, thin and crisp. You can see how they looked baked into the bottom of the loaf.

The taste of rose was subtle. When I took a bite near the bottom of a slice, I could definitely taste it, but not overwhelmingly so. Depending on how much flavor you want, you could try lining the sides with leaves, as well. I was unsure how potent the rose flavor would be, so I was conservative.

When I cut a slice, I left what leaf stayed on. It had a delicate, papery crispness.

I imagine you have a favorite pound cake recipe. Mine was half of what gave the cake it's name: a pound each of butter, flour, eggs, sugar, some vanilla and lemon juice.

If you give this a try, please show me what you've done. I'd love to see.