The last of my summer strawberries

Not that strawberry season is over but the ginormous-to-me basket of berries I bought at the market last week is no more. It will be a few weeks until I get out there again, so I'm afraid the berries will be gone by my next visit. Yes, I suppose I could get some at the bigscarymegamart, but they only seem to have imported berries...

I wasn't terribly inventive with my prized July possessions--you saw the cake and the sauce. Mostly they were eaten fresh, plain or dipped in yoghurt. or mixed with yoghurt and granola.

But the last few hundred grams are a different story.

One of my favourite flavour combinations has always been strawberry-banana. Love it in ice cream and frozen yoghurt; when teamed up with orange, it's a preferred juice blend.

Well, apart from not having any oranges, I wasn't in the mood to make my own juice and my freezer still doesn't have enough room for my ice cream maker's freezer insert, so those concoctions were well out of the question.

So, what's a girl to do with a few hundred grams of hastenlingly overripe strawberries and a banana that needs to go to a better place?

Let's just say it was time to hope, pray, light a candle, spread a little incense and hop on one foot for luck. Yup...Beelzebub would be called into service: I decided to bake muffins...and I didn't feel like making them in my parents' unairconditioned kitchen.

Well...something must have worked because Beelzebub behaved himself. You read correctly. He didn't ruin my muffins.

None of his usual games. No "No, I don't feel like turning on" nor any hint of "I'm teasing you, making you believe that I'm actually 350F when in fact I'll start at 200F and end at 450F." He didn't even try the old "Oh, you are sooooooo fetching in that apron, I'd love to get together with you and give the central air a reason to turn on" as a ruse to turn my offerings to charcoal.

Did I tame the beast? Have I won him over with my womanly wiles? Did I beat Lucifer at his own game? Have I been lulled into a false sense of security believing I actually have a stove that I can trust? Will Charlie Daniels immortalise my feat in a fiddle-sawin', fruit-chawin', baked-goods jawin' tune?

All I know is that I didn't have to toss any of them out. They all had a muffinny texture and a crunchy-sweet-sticky top. I'm not questionning it.

Strawberry Banana Muffins
Yield 18

For the muffins
110g butter, melted
150g brown sugar
2 beaten eggs
mashed bananas with enough vanilla yoghurt to fill a 250ml measure
250g chopped strawberries
300g plain flour
25g whole wheat flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp vanilla salt

For the streuselly topping
10g butter, melted
75g brown sugar
40g roalled oats
15g pinhead oats
nine large strawberries, hulled and halved (optional)

Preheat oven to a moderate heat (180C/350F) and line 18 buns of two 12-bun muffin tins with papers.

Sift together the flours, baking powder, bicarb and salt; set aside. In a separate bowl, mix together the streuselly topping and set that aside as well.

Mix together the egg, melted butter and vanilla and banana-yoghurt mixture. Stir into the flour mixture. Do not overmix: what you want is the batter to barely hang together (lumpy is good). Lightly fold in the chopped berries.

Portion into the muffin papers and spoon about a teaspoon's worth of the topping over the wet batter. Top with the half-berry.

Bake for 20-30 minutes, or until an inserted skewer comes away cleanish.

cheers!
jasmine

Daring Bakers: Danish Braid

This month's challenge was a project I'd hope we'd do--a flaky and buttery type pastry. Not a flaky pie pastry (I can do that already), but one that's in line with croissants or puff pastry. Kellypea of Sass and Veracity and Ben of What's Cooking? challenged us to make a Danish braid. Fabulous! Woo hoo! Yippee!

But...ummm...all the Danish braids I've ever had were shop-bought things that were either bready or flaky. So how am I to figure out how my attempt fared against what it was supposed to be? But then again...does it really matter?

What I mean is...many recipes I try are ones that read well. The final product has an interesting title, has ingredients I have on hand (or ones I can easily get), is something I've heard of in legend (or on a blog somewhere). Stylized, retouched, pixelated purveyances generally don't lure me (I say *generally* I have my moments of weakness). Basically, if the end result is something I like, then I think it's successful. Full stop.



So when I tackled the recipe, the only clues I had to how it might turn out were the yeast (bready?) and Ben's comment about making puff pastry by hand (flaky?).

The filling I chose was a combination of pluot and granny smith apples. I'd not had pluots at all before, but they were ripe and available. Prepped them quite simply--sliced the pluots in wedges and interspersed them between slices of peeled apple, and then topped the fruit with brown sugar.

My only tip is to tightly plait the strands--don't do a haphazard brand, otherwise the strips will dislodge and leave you with something that looks more akin to a ribcage after the rise...fine if you were making a cadaver for a Hallowe'en party, but not really for this.



Oh, and how did it taste? Buttery, not too sweet, a bit spicy. Oh yes...and the texture? The bottom was a bit bready and the plaits were a bit flaky...

Normally I don't post the DB recipes and just send you to the host's site, but this time I am for two reasons--one: I wanted to provide the recipe for a single braid or at least six smaller pastries and two: the cardamom comes through really nicely...and I've been a bit remiss in cooking with cardamom over the past...well...while.

Danish Braid
adapted from Sherry Yard’s The Secrets of Baking; makes one braid

Danish dough
Ingredients
½ Tbsp dry yeast
60ml full-fat milk
30g sugar
finely grated zest of half an orange

¼ tsp ground cardamom seeds (a mounded ¼ tsp)

1tsp vanilla extract

1 well chilled egg

2 Tbsp orange juice

a healthy pinch of salt

250g plain flour (divided into 230g and 20g)

125g sweet butter

Putting it together

1. Whisk together the yeast and bowl. Then add the sugar, zest, cardamom, vanilla, egg, and orange juice and mix well.
2. Sift together the 230g flour and salt in a separate bowl. Pour in the liquid and deftly mix together. When incorporated, turn out onto a lightly floured surface and kneed until smooth and easy to work with, adding more flour if the dough is sticky.
3. Wrap in cling and chill for half an hour.
4. In a separate bowl, beat together the rest of the measured flour with the butter until smooth and lump-free. Set aside at room temperature.
5. After the dough (the detrempe) has chilled, turn it out onto a lightly floured surface. Roll the to 45cm x 32cm (18"x13") rectangle approximately 1cm (¼") thick. The dough may be sticky, so keep dusting it lightly with flour.
6. Spread all the butter (the beurrage) evenly over the center and right thirds of the dough. Fold the left edge of the detrempe to the right, covering half of the butter. Fold the right third of the rectangle over the center third. This is the first single turn. Mark the dough by poking it once with your finger to keep track of your turns. Place the dough on a baking sheet, wrap in cling, and pop into the fridge for half an hour.
7. For the second single turn, place the dough lengthwise on a floured work surface, with the open ends at your right and left. Again, roll out the dough into a 45cm x 32cm (18"x13") rectangle approximately 1cm (¼") thick. And again, fold the left third of the rectangle over the center third and the right third over the center third. Poke it twice and wrap in cling and refrigerate the dough for half an hour. Repeat twice more for a total of four single turns, adding a poke each time.
8. After the fourth go round, refrigerate at least five hours or overnight. The Danish dough is now ready to be used. If you will not be using the dough within 24 hours, freeze it by rolling the dough out to about 2.5cm (1") thick, wrap tightly in cling, and freeze; defrost in the refrigerator for easiest handling. Danish dough will keep in the freezer for up to 1 month.

For the Danish braid.
Ingredients
1 recipe Danish Dough (as above)
1 cup filling of choice
1 beaten egg

Putting it together

1. Line a baking sheet.
2. On a lightly floured surface, roll the Danish Dough into a 20cm x 25cm (8"x10"), 1cm (¼") thick. If the dough seems elastic and shrinks back when rolled, let it rest for a few minutes, then roll again. Place the dough on the baking sheet.
3. Along one long side of the pastry make parallel, 5cm (2") long cuts at roughly 1cm (¼") to 2cm (¾") intervals with a knife or rolling pastry wheel. Repeat on the opposite side, taking care to ensure you line up the cuts with those you’ve already made.
4. Spoon the filling down the center of the rectangle. Starting with the top and bottom “flaps”, fold the top flap down over the filling to cover. Next, fold the bottom “flap” up to cover filling. This helps keep the braid neat and helps to hold in the filling.
5. Fold the cut side strips of dough over the filling, alternating first left, then right, left, right, until finished, as if you are braiding hair. Trim any excess dough and tuck in the ends.
6. Brush, lightly with the beaten egg to coat the braid.
7. Cover with a greased sheet of clink and proof until doubled in size and light to the touch. Near the end of proofing, preheat oven to 200C (400F) and position a rack in the center of the oven
8. Bake for 10 minutes.Lower the oven temperature to 180C (350F), and bake about 15-20 minutes more, or until golden brown.
9. When done, remove to cool on a wire rack.
10. Serve still warm from the oven or at room temperature.
11. The cooled braid can be wrapped airtight and stored in the refrigerator for up to two days, or freeze for month.

To read what the other DBs did with this challenge, take a meander through our blogroll.



cheers!
jasmine

Edit: For those of you wondering about pluots, I've written a short post abou them here:

Daring Bakers: Opéra

When I was in Secondary School, there was a somewhat decadent European coffee shop a few blocks from school where we'd sometimes hang out. Lovely cream-filled cakes, the best coffee, good hot chocolate. It was there I had my first slice of Opéra.

It seemed a very grown-up dessert--a departure from the cakes I was used to--homemade slabs or store-bought sandwich cakes. This was different: layers of joconde--not quite cake, not quite biscuit sandwiching layers of rich, sweetened cream, all in white chocolate couvertature (which I think may have had something fruity in the mix, but I could be confusing it with another of their desserts).

When Fran, Ivonne, Lis, & Shea announced this month's Daring Baker challenge was the Opéra, I was immediately taken back to being 17 years old, in the café's dining room--my mind's eye has it with reddish carpeting, creamy yellow walls, and heavy, heavy dark wood furniture complete with teenaged aesthetes, Symphony patrons who never really figured out that the café was just that much too far from the hall and self-proclaimed philosphes.

I decided to make a round cake, not a rectangular one as in the instructions. I didn't take care in my calculations and wound up with not enough batter for proper-heighted jocondes, so I had very thin slabs, which I brushed with a honey-vanilla syrup. Oh well...I guess to keep everything in proportion, I just had to use less butter cream--that's not a problem. I decided to try a two-toned glaze and marbled melted white merkens with lilac ones--the lilac melted a little darker than I'd hoped so I lightened it a touch with some of the white. It's the first time I'd tried marbelling and I thought I did rather well.





Our fearless hostesses' instructions were straightforward enough and allowed some variances--the big rule, or so I read it, was not to make it too dark. It's Spring up here, so keep the colours and flavours somewhat light.

In other words: less Wagnerian and more Gilbert and Sullivan..ian.

Hmmmm…

Three Little Cakes (to the tune of "Three Little Maids" from The Mikado)
With apologies so W.S. Gilbert, Arthur Sullivan and my friend Ori.
Dedicated to Barbara of Winos and Foodies: foodblogger, fellow DBer, and founder of A Taste of Yellow.

Three little joconde cakes are we
Part of a Clichy cake can be
Filled to the brim with butter cream
Three little cakes now cooled

Everything is a sweetened fun
Nobody wants, for we all get some
Here’s a gateau that's worth the crumb
Three little cakes now cooled

Three little cakes all light and airy,
Brushed with a syrup? Yes! We swear-y
Soaked with sweetness very dare-y
Three little cakes now cooled
Three little cakes now cooled

One little cake is a treat, Yum-Yum
Two little cakes in assemblance come
Three little cakes is the total sum
Three little cakes now cooled
Three little cakes now cooled

`Tween two little cakes a sweetened cream
Ganache or mousse on top, it seems
Cover’d in choc’late glaze all smooth and clean
Three little cakes now cooled
Three little cakes now cooled

Three joconde cakes all light and airy
Swathed with butter cream? Yes! We swear-y
Made by Bakers oh so Dare-y
Three little cakes now cooled
Three little cakes now cooled

To read what the other DBs did with this challenge, take a meander through our blogroll.

cheers!
jasmine

One of my Holy Grails

I once knew someone who made it her life mission to make the perfect apple pie. She recorded the minutiae of her quest in a log--every apple type was graded on texture, taste, firmness, colour when cooked. She spent ages trying to come up with the perfect combination of fruit, sugars and spices. I think she recorded various pastries, but in the end settled on a family recipe. As far as I know, she's still searching for that perfect-to-her pie.

I have similar quests: finding decent shop-bought goodies -- chili pepper sauces, hot chocolate mixes, vanilla extracts; restaurant fare worth the price -- eggs Benedict, steak, Caesar salad, or creating something that pleases my palate -- cream cheese icing, creamy and fruity ice creams, hamburgers.

I never look for "perfection" as by their very nature, such Diogenes-worthy quests are Mercurial, subjective and prone to lead me round the bend. No, I simply want something that I can happily and reliably find (in shops) or put together with a degree of effort that's in keeping with the dish.

One of these Grails is cornbread.

When I was little, My Dear Little Mummy made a cornbread that I still remember. It was soft and sweet with a not-too grainy texture. A few years ago I asked her how to make it. She couldn't remember. It may have been from a clipping or one of her books (I've not found it) or it could have been one of her many made up concoctions that can't be duplicated.

Every few months I pick up the gauntlet and search for and try a new recipe. Most have been sadly disappointing--too dry, too heavy, too sour, too scungy.

I found one that was on the right track (it was a bit too wet and too sweet and had a slightly wrong aftertaste)--of all places it was the kind my office cafeteria makes when they serve chilli. I went so far as to ask for the recipe, knowing they'd given other recipes out: silence. Dead silence. That's when I decided they must have been making it from a box...

Two months ago I trawled the web and found this recipe. I rarely go into a recipe with a drudgery-induced "Recipe trial 187: well, it can't be worse than the others" mentality--that, in itself, is a recipe for disappointment.

But I now blush to say I was rather blasé about it.

It's sweet and soft and definitely not gritty...and it comes together in no time whatsoever. Um...I think I no longer have to search for a cornbread recipe that makes me happy. Very happy.

I first made it to go with ribs I made for the exbf's birthday in March, and I've since made it twice more. This latest time as muffins, with the addition of several forkfuls of pickled pepper rings, chopped. I'll probably keep playing with it--Monterey Jack cheese, basil, sun dried tomatoes...I'm going have fun with this one

cheers!
jasmine

Happy Victoria Day!

Or, as 'tis known around here May Two-Four.

A little background: In 1854 the Province of Canada's legislature declared 24 May an official holiday, marking Queen Victoria's birthday. Since then, 24 May became the official holiday of Canada's reigning sovereign.

I can see you flipping to your calendar and I can hear you thinking "But it isn't 24 May, silly...it's the 18th (or 19th, or...)"--yes, I can hear your thoughts...scary isn't it? You're right, it isn't the 24th, but we're celebrating anyway: in 1952 the Statutes of Canada were amended to celebrate Victoria Day on the Monday before 24 May. Hence this year we celebrate on 19 May.

Yes, the date is also a public holiday in the Cayman Islands and some parts of Scotland.

Around here most people seem to focus on familial kinda things: some head up to open up their cottages for the summer, others potter about in their gardens--clearing winter's detritus and plant seeds or plantlets, while some others (like me) use it for a spring cleaning.

Many people also use this weekend to fire up their barbecues for the first time...with which they (and their friends/families/whatevers) quench their thirsts with a two-four (case of 24 bottles of beer).

Me, I don't have a barbecue...it's on my long-term list of things to buy. Beer and I aren't the best of friends...let me rephrase that. I like beer, but I value breathing more--I react to most commercially-made beers (think BIG breweries)--craft brewers are fine...and I'm very fine with Guinness (but you know that already).

So, how shall I celebrate? Well, with a Victoria Sponge, of course. As best as I can figure, a Victoria Sponge (or sandwich) is made up of two layers of sponge cake with a layer of jam between. Sometimes it's jam and cream, or cream and fresh fruit. I read somewhere that it is never, ever iced and that Queen Victoria preferred this cake with her tea.

Well, if it's good enough for Queen Victoria...and I've been looking for a reason to open the jar of apricot jam in my cupboard...

Victoria Sponge
(based on recipes in Tamasin Day-Lewis's Kitchen Bible and Delia Smith's Complete Cookery Course)

155g softened butter
155g sugar
3 eggs, well beaten
155g self raising flour, sifted
water
jam

Preheat oven to 180C/350F and prepare two 20cm/8" cake pans in the usual way.

Cream together the butter and sugar, then slowly add in the eggs. Quickly fold in the flour. Add in enough water so the batter is of a soft, dropping consistency. Divide batter between the pans and bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the cakes pull away from the sides and the top is springy. Let cool completely before assembling.

Warm the jam (three or four tablespoons) and pour on top of one of the cakes, spread with a knife (or a spoon, or whatever is most convenient) and place the second cake on top.


cheers!
jasmine

Redux: DB: Dorie's Perfect Party Cake

If you perused the Daring Baker Blogs in March, you know we were challenged to make Dorie's Perfect Party Cake. And if you perused enough of our blogs you'd have noticed a fair number of us had troubles getting our cakes to rise anything more than a galette. Dorie did hear of our troubles and passed on a note, suggesting we not try self-raising flour, use AP flour (less two tablespoons) and that her cake flour of choice was Swans Down.

Some people were able to use her advice and came up with some happy little slabs. I didn't see the note until it was too late, so I wound up with very dense, thin cakes, not really high enough to bisect to make a quadruple layer cake. Partly because I wasn't thrilled with the result, partly because I was surprised to find a recipe in Dorie's Baking tome that didn't work, and partly because I was worried that the key to this recipe was a very specific brand, I wanted to try this cake again.

Last week I made three half-recipes--one using my usual Five Roses AP Flour, one using my usual Robin Hood Cake and Pastry Flour and the last using Swans Down. All were made the same day, with each cake baking away on its own in my mum's oven. The only changes I made from the first go-round were switching to vanilla from lemon and using milk instead of buttermilk. I also timed all the beatings so they were all made in the same way. I'd not tried anything like this before, so I was curious as to how the cakes would differ.

Here they are with heights
Top: Cake and Pastry Flour - 1.25" high
Left: AP - 1" high
Right: Swans Down - 1" high

Um...the dimples on the surface of the C&P Flour cake are not the result of a cat stepping on it--those are MY finger prints (yes, my initial doneness test is to touch the top of the cake).

Wow...look at that AP cake. All pockmarked and lumpy. In fact, by the time it totally cooled, it sank...I wound up with a bit of a crater.

Even though the C&P flour cake was the tallest, if I decided to slice off the dome, it would have been about 1" tall, the same height as the AP cake; the Swans Down domed slightly, but not enough to lose much height.

Well, there you go...none of my cakes were tall enough to slice through the middle as they were supposed to.

But this dawdle is about more than height..it's also about taste and texture....

I didn't actually get to try the C&P slab as I gave it to Dear Friend, iced with some cream cheese icing, coconut and gold dragees. Here's a picture of the original cake It tasted quite nice and the crumb was a bit denser than many other cakes, but wasn't really heavy.






The other two flours told a different story. The layer on the left is the Swans Down and the one on the right is the AP. Hands down, the Swans Down had the best texture of all three--almost velvety in its yielding crumb.

The AP Flour was much heavier and even though my cake tester came out clean it was obvious it should have been in the oven a wee bit longer, which contributed to its heavier nature.


At the end of this experiment I'm still not sure what's wrong--maybe I'm not making the cake correctly and that's why the slabs didn't rise all that much. I will say that I'm glad I tried the Swans Down Flour. My "everyday" cakes will still be made with my usual flours, but when I have a special cake on the menu, I know which flour I'll reach for...

cheers!
jasmine

Related Post: Daring Bakers: Perfect Party Cake

There's custard...

...and then there's custard.


I'm not going to sugar coat things or wax too nostalgic about My Darling One: the man was an unwilling cook who relied heavily on Bachelor Chow: big box frozen foods, insta this and canned that. Don't get me wrong: when he did cook from scratch, it was very good -- spaghetti, lasagne, chicken oporto, and I'm told his trifle (I never got to try any as there was never any left for me to try--he took a full bowl to the office at Christmas, and it came back disappointingly empty). Those dishes appeared every so often, but mostly, if he made me a meal, it was usually what is known as Bachelor Chow.


When time came to clean out his pantry, a bachelor friend took much of the BC, a few things were kept (rice, pasta, oatmeal) and the rest was binned. One of the few things I kept was a cannister of Bird's Custard--a staple of the aforementioned trifle.


As someone who's only made...um...real custard, I was curious about this white cornstarchy mix that's famous for transforming into an unnaturally yellow pudding and sauce. I mean, how difficult is it to make custard? (Answer: Not very, as is evidenced by my ability to turn out a pretty yummy vanilla ice cream.).


Well...I made some to go with some individual apple crumbly crispy things.


Would I sound terribly boastful to say my home made custard is yummier--richer, vanilla-ier and, well, oomphier than the powdered purveyance? The colour didn't help matters much--I don't think mine comes anywhere close to that particular shade (unless I dribbled in some colourant).


That's not to say that the cannister will find its way into the bin. I have a few recipes that call for a spoon of custard powder here and there to flavour fillings or cookies...and besides, sometimes truly instant pudding is what a soul needs.

The individual apple crisps were the main point of dessert, no mere vehicle for the sauce. I don't really follow any real recipes when making them: half to a whole tart apple, peeled and sliced, with a spoon of jam or maple syrup in each ramekin.


The topping is really easy (and uses pinhead oats)--this amount was fine for six individual ramekins. Please note I'm pretty free-wheeling when it comes to making this...sometimes there's more flour and less oats, sometimes put spices in sometimes there's barely any butter...it all depends on my mood...and my pantry:


25g plain flour
100g brown sugar
40g rolled oats
15g pinhead oats
50g soft butter (or more, or less, depending on your mood)



Rub the topping ingredients together and spoon over apples before baking.


cheers!
jasmine

On My Shelves: The Sweet Melissa Baking Book

Thanks to the kind people at Viking Studio/Penguin USA, I found a copy of Melissa Murphy's The Sweet Melissa Baking Book in my hot little hands.

The Sweet Melissa Baking Book: Recipes form the Beloved Bakery for Everyone’s Favorite Treats
By Melissa Murphy
Viking Studio (Penguin Group USA Inc)
240 pages; $27.00


I’m a bit of a sucker for baking books. Big, little, pie-centric, cake-focussed, full-colour and glossy, home made and photocopied, around the world in 400 pages, wham, bam, bake it ma’am—if I’m not careful my rickety shelves would tumble under the weight of those instructions that list piebirds, spring-form pans and recommend strips of baking parchment. They don’t have to be patisserie-perfect, but it’s usually a treat to read tips and tricks of those who’ve dedicated a part of their lives in pursuit of all things made of fat, flour and sugar (with the occasional fruit or nut tossed in for good measure). Melissa Murphy’s collection of her bakeshop’s treats, The Sweet Melissa Baking Book, gives fans—and those of us who’d like to be fans, but for want of a transporter aren’t—the ability to turn our home ovens into satellites of her famed patisserie.

A graduate of New York’s French Culinary Institute, Melissa Murphy is the chef-owner of the Sweet Melissa Pâtisseries in Brooklyn, New York. Her bake shops have been featured in such publications a Food and Wine and The New Yorker, and she has contributed articles to such magazines as Bride’s Magazine, The New York Times Magazine and Pastry Arts & Design. Sweet Melissa Patisseries won the 2007 Zagat Marketplace Award for "Best Tarts and Pies" in New York.

Murphy’s 100-plus recipes are sectioned into six: breakfasts, snacks, cakes, fruits, special desserts and candies, all (I assume) from her pâtisseries. Photographs are few and far between—eight full-colour images illustrating a handful of recipes along with half a dozen black and white bakeshop shots—treats in their natural habitat, if you will. The limited illustrations may turn off some potential book owners and perhaps some of the inexperienced or even insecure home bakers, but I think the focus on text is exactly where it should be.

My proclivities lead me not to care what a food stylist does with a slice of cake or the lighting glinting off a fresh berry. I care more about the taste and ease of preparation; the latter is directly linked to the quality and clarity of written instruction. Murphy’s instructions are generally well-considered and ordered making it easy to attempt any of her sweet (and the occasionally savoury) treats. The recipes are easily adaptable to the baker’s palate as she sometimes offers variants to main recipes. Her Chocolate Orange Macaroons (p74) morph into Lemon Macaroons, while her Sweet Muffins recipe (p4) comes with four filling suggestions—Fresh Peach, Strawberry Muffins with Fresh Lemon and Rosemary, Orange Blueberry Muffins with Pecan Crumble and Pear Cranberry Muffins with Gingersnap Crumble.

Murphy’s text offers hints, tips and professional advice—things that many home bakers seek out. Some sections have dedicated pages of advice: in “It’s Somebody’s Birthday!: Special Layer Cakes” Murphy’s seven-page introduction includes words of wisdom about assembling layer cakes, both split and unsplit layer cakes, while “What Will We Do With All This Fruit?” includes four pages that discuss flour, fats, water and techniques for pastry-making. Many recipes include “Pro Tips” such as how to make your own vanilla sugar or what sort of bread to use in bread puddings.

For the most part, this is a good book but there are a few caveats. The first is a general warning about sweetness. Yes, I know this is a baking book, filled with lovely sweetie cakes, squares and pies, but I found the treats to be a bit too sweet for my liking. In each of the sweet recipes I tried, I could have very, very easily reduced the amount of sugar by about 25 per cent and not have undermined the yumminess of the final product. Related to this is my second concern: in this day and age where focus is put on childhood obesity, the rise of Type Two Diabetes and the general free-wheeling of sugar in the North American diet, I found “After-School Snacks” bordering on irresponsible—parents I know would not make these available to children between home time and supper because they’d be so wired (and yes, I know these really are treats and hopefully no parent would regularly provide these goods to their children, but to call them “after school snacks” is really too much). The final thing I didn’t care for was the lack of baking times and temps in the pie recipes. I suppose Murphy thought that as bakers would follow the pastry recipes found on other pages, they’d naturally flip back and forth—I found it annoying and would prefer to have the oven and timer info with the actual recipe. Oh, yes, add my usual displeasure about the use of volume metrics for flour, sugar etc.

And which recipes did I try? This is a book of temptation, to which I succumbed:

Butterscotch Cashew Bars (p54)
Incredibly easy but far too sweet—the butterscotch topping could be halved or quartered and attain a sweet-salty balance. Murphy suggests the quantity was sufficient for 24 bars, written—I cut it into 30 bars and still found it too sweet (even my sugar-loving colleagues thought it was sugar overload).




Carrot Cake with Fresh Orange Cream Cheese Frosting (p 114)
Moist moist moist and not heavy like many carrot cakes I’ve tried. The orange zest in the cream cheese frosting was delicious. I’ve since returned to the frosting recipe, cut down the sugar a bit and substituted extract for zest. The cake will probably be a regular star from my kitchen…probably as muffins.

Double-crusted Caramel Apple Pie (p 156) made with Flaky Pie Dough (p137)
Murphy recommends plain flour for the crust, instead of pastry flour. The crust was flaky enough and wasn’t at all chewy. I will give her full points for the caramel sauce instructions. I have never been able to make an edible caramel before, but I followed her instructions and produced a luscious caramel sauce that rivalled (and dare I say surpassed) any I’ve had from the shops or restaurants.

Savory Muffins: Bosc Pear, Blue Cheese and Walnut Muffins (p8)
This is a variant of the only savoury recipe in the book—which is why I made them. Oh my word these were good—the flavour combination is classic and just ever-so elegant.

The Sweet Melissa’s Baking Book is a good general-purpose sweetie baking book. The flavour combinations are fresh and inspired and will make anyone who follows her instructions a favoured baker.

So how does it rate?
Overall: 3.75/5

The breakdown:
Recipe Selection: 4/5
Writing: 3.5/5
Ease of use: 3.5/5
Yum factor: 4/5
Table-top test*: Pretty much lies flat

Kitchen comfort-level: Novice-intermediate
Pro: Good kitchen tips make these sweet tips accessible to even neophyte bakers.
Con: A little heavy handed with the sugar, but easily fixable.

* I was reminded that a cookbook writer friend judged a cookbook partially on its ability to lie flat on a table, without without (eek!!) cracking the spine. Hey…who really wants to fight to keep a book open while trying to sort out its instructions?

cheers!
jasmine

A tale of two cookies: part two

Where was I?

Oh yes, the second cookie...

So there I was baking butterscotch pecan cookies for the workaversary when I was struck by a moment of brilliance...or insanity (it's sometimes difficult to differentiate between the two):

Why make just one kind when I can make two kinds of cookies?

OOOOH...

I don't know what made me more excited--the idea of offering my colleagues a choice of flavours or the possibility that I might have some left over for ME (the term "ravenous hordes" has been bandied about).

Okay, but what about the second flavour? I was baking at My Dear Little Mummy's as Beelzebub hasn't yet learned to behave like a good little oven, so I was a bit short on options...except for the tub of Nutella I bought on the way over (along with the butter).

For those of you who haven't been enlightened: Nutella is a food of the gawds.

There, now you know. Pass it on.

So there I was, staring at the 400g pot of Nutella, wondering what to do, when it suddenly dawned on me: Nutella cookies.

It may have been the most brilliant thought I'd had all year.

A quick riffle through my Mum's cupboards procured a part packet of milk chocolate chips--she wouldn't mind--she's told me to use up as much of her food as possible while she's away...and I'm a good girl who always obeys her Mummy :)

The only thing was...I didn't have a recipe. Think think think. Nutella is sort of like peanut butter. It had been a while since I last made PB cookies, but I figured I could muddle my way through.

The cookies that emerged weren't cloying. Truthfully, I was worried that they'd take on the supersweetness brought by Nutella, but because I held back (a bit) on the sugar--totally omitted the brown sugar, and just stuck with brown--and added more salt than I'd normally put in a cookie. These weren't chewy as some pb cookies, but they aren't as crispy-dry-hearty as others. They were a nice cross between the two, with a little teeny cakeyness thrown in. I wound up with a chocolaty, slightly nutty-flavoured cookie that went really well with coffee. In that way they were reminiscent of Dorie's World Peace Cookies.

I think they were a hit--I definitely like them. They were very popular in some circles, but others (those poor, deprived souls who weren't brought up with the joys of choco-hazelnut spread) did not go near them. A couple of people who'd never tried the spread ate a cookie...and then another...and then another (even my very young neighbour, who received some of my biscuitty bounty, came knocking on my door--several times--over the weekend wanting the recipe so she could make them with her mum).

Nutella Cookies
Yields about six dozen cookies, depending upon your cookie spoon.

170g very soft butter
200g granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 dsp vanilla extract
250ml Nutella
420g plain flour
1 dsp bicarbonate of soda
1/2 tsp salt
250g milk chocolate chips (but I suppose you could use an entire packet of 270g)

Preheat oven to 375F/190C and prepare your cookie trays in the usual way.

Stir together the flour, bicarb and salt. Set aside. In another bowl, beat together the butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla and Nutella until smooth. Mix in the flour and then fold in the chocolate chips. You will get a fairly stiff batter.

Drop by teaspoonful onto the aforementioned prepared cookie trays. Press slightly and bake until done, about 12 minutes.

cheers!
jasmine

edit: Thanks Dana! I left out half the info on the sugar and texture...they're in now.

Related Post: A tale of two cookies: part one

Daring Bakers: Cheesecake Pops

Every so often something pops into my head as being so common sensicle that I immediately dismiss it because it's so obviously a good idea that someone else has done it and done it better.

Time travel to 1987: Enter the cheeseypop (a frozen cheesecake lolly) into my head...and immediately dismissed in the aforementioned way.

Time jump to 2008 and the April 2008 Daring Bakers challenge, co-hosted by Elle of Feeding My Enthusiasms and Deborah of Taste and Tell, Cheesecake pops. Chocolate-coated cheesecake balls on a stick.

Okay...my cheeseypops weren't choco-coated, but the idea is the same. A bite-sized cheesecake portion, frozen onto a stick...perfect for parties.

It's like the dessert version of cocktail weenies...except there isn't any dipping sauce...well there is, but it's frozen onto the cheesecake.

Our lovely hosts let us run free with the recipe to a certain extent--we could flavour it as we wanted and decorate it as we wanted. The only limitations were keeping the cheesecake untinted and keep the lolly to a two-ounce size.

OOPS...on both counts...sort of...

I don't know why, but I've been thinking of pina coladas a lot lately. Maybe it's a latent desire to be somewhere...anywhere...where I can just laze about with a book or two. I even went so far as to buy a frozen can of pina colada stuff...which I intend to use in something...possibly a drink.

So, apart from the rum, the two primary flavours are coconut and pineapple. I've never seen coconut cream cheese in the shops, but I have seen it in pineapple Needless to say, instead of buying a regular, cream cheese-flavoured brick for the challenge, I bought a pineapple-flavoured tubblette of cream cheese. Heck, it saves me from looking for pineapple flavouring. But instead of it being titanium white, it's more of a winter white--a creamy-peachy colour. Well, I'd never bought it before, so I didn't know...oh well...at least it wasn't pink like the strawberry or blue like the blueberry (or, I suspect green, like the chive flavoured) kinds.

The original recipe called for five bricks of cream cheese. Since I wasn't making it for a party and I don't have room in my freezer for 35 cheeseypops, I scaled the recipe down to one brick's worth. It was quite easy, since I pretty much do most things in grams and mls. I poured it into my smallest ceramic round baking thingie and it baked up really nicely--it took about 35 minutes to set properly. I also made a mental note that this quantity is perfect for a small cheesecake for two-four people.

When time came to make the little balls, I didn't have a two-ounce scoop and none of the shops I checked in had them. Knowing they had to be walnut-sized I got out my teaspoon and started scooping balling and impaling. I wound up with 12 lollies from one brick...which tells me they were a wee bit too small, but it just means there are more "servings."

I found stabbing each orb with a lolly stick oddly therapeutic. Maybe there's a hidden acupuncturist inside me, maybe in a previous life I was one of Vlad's armed guards. To my surprise, the sticks stuck and didn't tip to the side--nor did the cheesecake slide off when lifted.

After a couple of hours in the freezer, I dipped them in melted dark chocolate and then plunged them into bowl of shredded coconut, left over from the March Challenge, and popped them back into the freezer.

Yummy yummy yummy...and the perfect size (for me). The pineapple wasn't too strongly flavoured, but it was nice with the coconut.

Which got me to wondering...what about cheesey kebabs? Two little cheesecake blobs on either side of a strawberry or pineapple chunks...frozen, of course... or what about doing these with savoury garlic cream cheese (I do like the garlic bonbons at my favourite chocolatrie)...

Nah, it's probably been done before...

If you're interested in making Cheesecake Pops, read Lemon Pi's post (I really like the little lolly holders).

To read what the other DBs did with this challenge, take a meander through our blogroll.

cheers!
jasmine

A tale of two cookies: part one

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way."

--Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

That's in the top two best opening lines I've ever read. The other one is from Iain Banks' The Crow Road--"It was the day my grandmother exploded." Now whether or not I'll use the great Mr. Banks' works for titular inspiration remains to be seen.

As apt a present-day commentary as Mr. Dickens' words are this post isn't meant to be a discourse on current events. No, instead it is the first of a two part series on cookies.

This week was one of my work-related milestones: seven years at the company. For whatever reason, the tradition is whenever you have something to celebrate (birthday, engagement, wedding, birth of a child, divorce, whatever) you have to provide the treats...the same goes for workaversaries.

"Harrumph!" I say and "double harrumph!" at that.

Have they not yet realised that they should be fêting me? Didn't they know that they should have laid a rose petal carpet from my prize parking spot to the front door? And what about the balloon bouquets gracing every doorway? How about having Gerard Butler, Colin Firth and Richard Armitage available at my beck and call? Jeans day??

No, apparently not.

Sigh...

So I need to bring a treat in for the workaversary. I usually do a cake or cuppycakes but this year I decided on cookies. The only thing I knew was I didn't want to bring in regular chocolate chip cookies. Not saying anything bad about chocochip cookies--I've had more than my fair share of good ones--I just wanted something different.

What made my cookie making adventure slightly more annoying was the fact we have a Timmys in our office. Which means we have Timmy cookies...and Timmys makes good cookies (IMO)...especially their caramel chocolate pecan ones. Mmmmmmm....caramel chocolate pecan cookies. Not that I'd make caramel chocolate pecan cookies...just be inspired by them

I rummaged through my cupboard and found some butterscotch chips and pecan bits and added them to the basic cookie recipe I use (which happens to be based on the one found on the milk chocolate Chippits bag). What I like about this particular cookie recipe is that you don't have to use a mixer to do the dough--all you need is a bowl and a wooden spoon.

Fresh from the oven they are a little poofy, but chewy and just so buttery good. Cooled they are on this side of butter-pecan. By far, they were a hit at the office...

Butterscotch Pecan Cookies
Yields about 5 dozen cookies, depending upon your cookie spoon.

150ml melted butter
340g light brown sugar
2 eggs
1 dsp hot water
1 tsp vanilla extract
375g plain flour
1tsp baking powder
1tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/4tsp salt
250g butterscotch chips
150g pecan bits

Preheat oven to 375F/190C and prepare your cookie trays in the usual way.

Stir together the flour, baking powder, bicarb and salt. Set aside. In another bowl, mix together the butter, sugar, eggs, hot water and vanilla until smooth. Stir in the flour and then fold in the butterscotch chips and pecan bits.

Drop by teaspoonful onto the aforementioned prepared cookie trays. Press slightly and bake until done, about eight to 10 minutes.

cheers!
jasmine

Related Post: A tale of two cookies: part two

Milk Calendar Mondays: Cinnamon Crunch Raspberry Muffins

For those of you who flipped your Milk Calendar to April and wondered about my adventure with Salmon and Rice Primavera, well, you'll just have to keep on wondering. Or you can do the recipe and assume that whatever you thought of it will be exactly my reaction. I didn't attempt the recipe because of a salmon allergy (how wrong is that?).

So this month's Milk Calendar Monday recipe let me dive into one of the extra eight recipes. I really wonder why they separate these out from the others. I mean, yes, it's always good to give your customers more than they asked for (well, more in a good way... higher prices, unending telephone trees, days of headaches to get a simple thing done are NOT examples of this), but these...um...hidden...recipes always look more interesting and tasty than the monthly spotlights. I'd have been happier if the Easy Jambalaya recipe (yes, I do drone on about that one) was hidden on one the back pages and the recipe I chose instead was on a calendar page.

I must admit, after reading Brilynn's comment about the carrot cake I was more than a little trepedatious about trying the extra recipes. I mean, were these the ones that (in some wise person's mind) weren't good enough to be the monthly pin-up: you know, passively attractive with a good personality? Knowing I had to pick something, I went with the Cinnamon Crunch Raspberry Muffins.

This is a muffin that uses whole wheat flour, which in my mind is a travesty of an inclusion in muffin or cake recipes. I simply don't want those nubbly little bits in my crumb, thank you very much. I want more of a cakey crumb, with texture coming from fruits, nuts or some sort of topping...not from the flour itself.

Luckily for me (and the calendar and anyone reading this) I can carve off that part of my brain that would normally taint my final opinion, stick it into the freezer and just evaluate something on its merits as-is.

Which is a good thing for this recipe.

I liked this muffin. I liked the crumb, really liked the lemony-raspberry flavour and thought the crunchy topping's texture was pretty bang-on. The only thing I didn't really care for was the lemon juice in the crunchy topping--there's more than enough lemon in the cake so there's no need to use it on top. I think I know why it's mixed with the oats and sugar, but I'd rather use water (okay, I'd rather use butter, but this is supposed to be "healthier" than that).

Why did I like this, even thought I don't like wheatie nubblies in my cakes? I think it's because the oats disguised the nubblies and texturally tricked my tongue into liking the muffin. Hey, that's perfectly okay...I'm one for feeding people unfavourite food and then rejoicing when they tell me they like it before they find out it was aubergine or it contained fish sauce (I don't let them rescind their yums when they find out it's a food they don't like).

So, in my humble opinion, we've got a good recipe with this one. So much so that I'm seriously considering changing some of my favourite muffin recipes to include whole wheat and the crunchy topping....

cheers!
jasmine

Daring Bakers: Perfect Party Cake

Everytime I idly leaf through Dorie Greenspan's Baking: from my home to yours, I stop at page 251 and sigh. It's one of those lovely compositions--slices of white cake, sandwiched between garnet layers of rasperry jam and white buttercream frosting, encased in a snowfall of shredded coconut.

I look at it and think "My, that's pretty...I really should make that some day," and then go off to a different recipe.

When I've charged myself with baking a birthday cake, I flip through this marvellous tome and think "My, that's pretty...I really should make that some day," and then go off to a different cake.

So when our fabulous Daring Bakers host, Morven of Food Art and Random Thoughts revealed this month challenge as Dorie's Perfect Party Cake, I knew my days of wistfully dreaming of whipping up so lovely a creation would be a memory as now this celebratory crumb will have come from my kitchen...or a version of it.

The Perfect Party Cake is not hard to make as Dorie's wonderful prose easily walks you through the steps: two divided slabs, some seedless jam, a mound of Swiss meringue buttercream frosting, all patted down with coconut flakes. Everything about this cake is delicious--the crumb has nice, light flavour and a soft texture. The frosting is sweet but neutral and plays nicely with the lemon, raspberry and coconut.

But the thing is...I'm not a foofy cake person.

And by this I mean any cake that you need to primp and fuss over. I have an ingrained and genetic aversion to crumbcoats and piping bags, which extends to layer cakes.

Just give me a single, naked slab and a fork and I'm more than happy--you don't even have to give me a fork, but mummy taught me that cake is not finger food. If I'm feeling fancy, a plop of ice cream is perfect accompaniment. If I'm bothered to ice a cake, I prefer something that takes relatively little effort--plop and smoosh, plop and smoosh. Easy peasy, pudding and pie.

So here I am, dared to make a slightly foofy, definitely layered cake. It's more than layered--its two baked slabs, split to make four layers. And here I am, even and level-cake slicing challenged. Really...most of my attempts at such beasts have produces wobbly-cut layers whose serrated tops (or bottoms) resemble the bloop-bloop heart monitor machine display screens. At best they are only cut on a diagonal. I don't even pretend the layers will be the same thickness.

But like a true DBer, I put all the above aside and tackled the cake.

I baked twice for this challenge--and by doing so, broke my personal DB rule: one shot, good or bad. My first attempt was during my migraine weekend, during a small relatively pain-free windo. As soon as I took them out of the oven, I set them on the rack to cool and then the searing aches returned and I slunk off to a dark room. Two days later, the slabs were still there...cool but stale. I looked at them--they didn't rise...at all. I blamed Beelzebub and decided to try again later.

Between attempts I'd read various DB accounts, many complaining that the slabs didn't rise. What? Were they all coming into my kitchen when I wasn't around and using the kitchen squatter? Given I just got my power bill, I can (thankfully) say no. A few people thought their leveners were at fault. That could have been my issue, but I use my BP regularly and haven't had any problems with lift before. I read and re-read the recipe in my book and as far as I can tell, I followed everything to the letter.

This, of course, lead me to break a real DB rule...I decided to not follow the recipe to the letter. I used the same ingredients, in the same quantities, but just a little differently. Plus, I decided to switch pan sizes, using my more standard 20cm (8") tins instead of the 23cm (9") ones called for.

So...what did I do differently?

• I whipped the egg whites separately from the buttermilk, with a bit of sugar so I had lovely billowy, soft-peaked marshmallowy clouds.
• Instead of sifting all the baking powder with the flour, I held back about a teaspoon's worth.
• Just before pouring the buttermilk into the batter, I stirred in the reserved bp, to activate the leavening properties
• When adding the wet to the dry, my first addition was half the buttermilk the second was the remaning and the third was folding in the egg whites.
• VERY QUICKLY put the tins into the oven.

Well...the cakes were higher (some of which is attibutable to the volume issue by switching to the smaller tins, but I think my procedural changes helped a bit), but not high enough for me to feel comfortable about bisecting them adequately. I think if I were using a better oven, I would have had better height.

Because I switched it to a two-layer cake, I wound up with a lot more frosting than I needed, so I...umm...made a very thick layer of frosting in between the cakes. Not so thick as it would have replaced a proper third (or fourth) layer, but thicker than I'd normally do.

Of course, after I completed it, we got a note from Dorie suggesting that people use plain flour (just take away two tablespoons of flour from the mix) or a particular brand of flour. Since that note, I noticed the number of triumphant DBers increased. Ah well...it was still a good birthday cake for the exbf.

I do want to try this one again with that flour brand, the ap subsitute and my regular brand. I'm just not sure what do do with all that cake...




To read what the other DBs did with this challenge, take a meander through our blogroll.



cheers!
jasmine


Related Post: Redux: DB: Dorie's Perfect Party Cake