Cake Boss

I have a love-hate relationship with making cake.  Here is a list of things I love about it: flipping through recipes; finding the just-right flavour combinations; sketching out the cake; searching out the ingredients; prepping everything.

Here is a list of things I hate about it: making the actual cake!  OK.  Not entirely true.  Here's the deal.  I know how to make the individual components.  I've nailed down the process of assembly.  I've learned alot of tricks along the way.  In theory, I should have a majestic cake.  In my mind, it will be layered and tiered.  Light and airy.  Frosted whimsically, adorned and then displayed.
 

So, what's the problem?

Cakes fall.  Usually not literally, but often they will just deflate in the oven.  Buttercream will break.  Fondant will crack.  Things will melt, slide, topple, squish out, droop, flatten, crumble, crush, squash, sag, buckle, sweat (yup, buttercream can do this!), and black out (well, not the cake but me if all the aforementioned things happen!) 

 

Get it now?

So, despite the tip-toeing around the kitchen (so the cakes rise in the oven), and coddling and cojoling the buttercream (beat, beat, beat, refridgerate), and the general kanoodling (a few sweet nothings never hurt!), the relationship with the cake is always a little strained.

But just when you think that things are heading south, something unexpected happens.  You get a glimpse of that magnificient image that was in your mind - but now it's emerging before you.  And what was so overwhelming just minutes before is now quickly becoming breathtaking.  Love is in the air!

 And it was with love (and a whole heck of nerves) that I baked this cake for my sister and her soon-to-be husband last year.

Hey sis!  If you're reading this blog (as you should be!), I hope you liked it!  But don't expect anything else soon.  OK, maybe I'll make you those nectarine cupcakes you were clammering about.....

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY! 

Indian Summer Gratin with Butternut Squash, Potatoes, Corn, and Bacon

Ever hear of a burn notice?  It's spy-slang for pink slip.  Only worse.  Much worse.  A burned spy not only loses his job, but loses his identity as well.  His home.  His bank account.  His self as he knows it.  Makes it tough to find a new job.  Make friends.  Heck, even go shopping (credit cards are kaput).  So, what's former spy to do?  Hang with an old spy buddy.  An ex-girlfriend.  Visit mom.  Find new digs in an abandoned warehouse.  Eat yogurt.  Lots of yogurt.  Well, at least that's what the burned spy in the aptly named Burn Notice does.  Why am I mentioning this in a post that's about a summer gratin?  Well, because that's what I was watching when I was making said gratin!  See, I never cook alone.  I've always got some company.  Sometimes it's the ex-spy and his pals.  Sometimes it's the dissociative disordered mom in United States of Tara.  (The question is who will the cooking buddy be today?  Tara, the mom?  T, the teenager?  Alice, the clawingly annoying do-gooder?  Or Buck, the bristly Vietnam vet?  Or is it going to be the newly-emerging poncho-wearing peeing persona?  That's right.  I said poncho.  Thought I was going to comment on the other part, huh?  Nope.  Too nasty for this blog.)  Lately though it's been the Good Wife (slandered wife-come-junior associate attorney).  Hey, that reminds me.  Ever hear about pitting evidence?  That's police-speak for..... Oh, never mind.  Let's talk gratin instead.

Gratin is a widely used culinary technique in which an ingredient is topped with a browned crust, often using breadcrumbs, grated cheese, egg and/or butter.  (Thanks, Wikipedia!)

OK.  Sounds easy enough.  Let's give it a go.

First, prep the summer bounty......

Mix together and get ready to dish it...

Next, prepare the breadcrumb topping.

If you were heading for the pantry for the box of brown dust that claims to be crumbs of bread, stop. That won't do. This is a gratin. It's French. They'd be appalled if they saw this. Just make the fresh breadcrumbs. It's easy. Chop up a couple of fresh-ish buns in the food processor. Done. No need to hang your head in shame anymore.

Now it is officially crowned a gratin.... 
A small bow, and into the oven it goes.

Enjoy! 

Indian Summer Gratin with Butternut Squash, 
Potatoes, Corn, and Bacon (adapted from Fine Cooking)

Ingredients

1 Tbs. plus 1/2 tsp. unsalted butter
4 slices bacon
1-1/2 cups fresh breadcrumbs
1/2 cup plus 2 Tbs. finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1 Tbs. extra-virgin olive oil
1-1/2 tsp. chopped fresh thyme leaves
Kosher salt
1 large or 2 medium leeks (white and light-green parts only), halved and sliced 1/4 inch thick
2 tsp. minced fresh garlic
1-3/4 to 2 cups fresh corn kernels (from 3 to 4 large ears)
Freshly ground black pepper
2/3 cup heavy cream
3/4 cup lower-salt chicken broth
1/2 tsp. finely grated lemon zest
12 oz. peeled, seeded butternut squash, cut into 1/2-inch dice (about 2-1/2 cups)
8 oz. Yukon Gold potatoes, cut into 1/3-inch dice (about 1-1/2 cups)

Directions

1. Position a rack in the center of the oven and heat the oven to 400°F.  Butter a 2-quart shallow gratin dish with 1/2 tsp. of the butter.

2. In a nonstick skillet over medium heat, cook the bacon until crisp.  Transfer the bacon to paper towels. Reserve 2 Tbs. of the fat in the skillet; discard the remainder. When the bacon is cool, crumble it.

3. In a small bowl, combine 1 Tbs. of the crumbled bacon with the breadcrumbs, 2 Tbs. of the Parmigiano, the olive oil, 1/2 tsp. of the thyme, and a large pinch of salt. Mix well.

4. Add the remaining 1 Tbs. butter to the skillet with the bacon fat and melt over medium heat. Add the leeks and a pinch of salt, and cook, stirring, until softened and just starting to turn golden, 6 to 7 minutes. Add the garlic and stir well. Add the corn, 1/4 tsp. salt, and a few grinds of pepper. Cook, stirring, until the corn has lost its raw look and is slightly shrunken, 2 to 3 minutes. Cool slightly. (Note: I boiled the corn first.)

5. Combine the cream and chicken broth in a 2-cup liquid measure. Add the lemon zest, 1/2 tsp. salt, and a few grinds of pepper. Stir to mix well.

6. In a large bowl, combine the remaining bacon, the corn-leek mixture, the diced squash, potatoes, and remaining 1 tsp. thyme. Toss lightly to combine. Spread the mixture evenly in the gratin dish. Sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup Parmigiano on top. Stir the cream mixture one more time and pour it over everything as evenly as possible.  Press down on the vegetables with a spatula so that the liquid surrounds them and everything is evenly distributed. Sprinkle the breadcrumb mixture evenly over all.

7. Cover with foil and bake for at least 40 minutes (the recipe originally said 20 minutes - don't believe them).  Remove the foil and continue to bake until the crumb topping is deeply golden and the squash and potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork, about 25 minutes. The liquid should have bubbled below the surface of the vegetables, leaving browned bits around the edge of the pan. Let cool for 20 to 25 minutes before serving.

Strawberry Layer Cake

I like quests.  Cooking quests to be precise.  The highs and lows of looking for that elusive ingredient.  You know the one.  It's touted in every food magazine, featured in blogs and used with wild abandon by celebrity chefs.  So, naively thinking that it's at the corner store, you're sorely disappointed when the shelves are void of it yet filled with a determined resolve to find it.  So began the Panko Quest of 2005.  A quest that lasted through disparaging grocery store visits, criss-crossing neighbourhoods, requesting friends and family to be on the lookout for it,  And yet it remained an uncrossed entry on the grocery list until the visit to the health food store.  Oh, the joy.  Recently, I've come across a recipe for a strawberry tropezienne.  A brioche-type concoction. filled with pastry cream, strawberries, and topped with pearl sugar.  Yes, pearl sugar.  Ha!  I sense the panko of 2010.  But alas this weekend I came away victorious, thinking that the Sugar Pearl Quest was short-lived.  Not so.  Sugar pearls are rotund little edible decorations.  Pearl sugar on the other hand are irregular little chunks of sugar what will not melt when topping such pastry delicacies but will lend a satisfying crunch.  A misnomer.  The Pearl Sugar Quest is still underway.....

I'm also a little unrelenting when it comes to less-than-perfect recipes.  There always has to be a way to fix them, to make them even better.  To try again.  And again.  Let's take a strawberry shortcake.  Not the biscuit kind.  The sky-high layer kind.  The filled-to-oozing with whipped cream kind.  The kind that seems to say Hey, look at me.  I'm awesome! But how to concoct something of this magnitude?   What cake is strong enough to buttress it?  Chiffon?  Sponge?  White?  Well, three tries later, I'm thinking that a buttermilk cake is up to the job.  With lots of fluffy whipped cream sandwiched in between.  And juicy, ripe berries peeking out.  And this cake has one more surprise between the layers - rhubarb jam.  I think I'm on the right track.......

First, prep the pans....

Beat the butter with the sugar....

Add the dry ingredients....

Then the wet....

(Do you see the sugar pearls in the background???)

Beat well and then divvy up into the pans to bake....

 Then just cool it....

Meanwhile, prepare your fillings.....

First, the strawberries....

Whip that cream a la Indy Jones.... Do do do doooooo do do dooooooo......

 And don't forget to make the rhubarb jam....

 Ladies and Gentlemen, time to start your engines.  We need to assemble!

A little bit off the top.... (Yes, that is a grater.  A trick I learned from my grandmother.  To smooth the sides of the cake out, you gently grate - on the small grater side - and let the crumbs fall where they may!  Next time, I'll show you the real meaning of crumb coating a cake!)

Brush on the reserved strawberry syrup.  Then the rhubarb jam.  Next the strawberries.  Top with whipped cream.   Lather, rinse, repeat with the rest.

Almost there....

 Dare I say it?  Bon Appetit!!!

 

Strawberry Layer Cake (adapted from Martha Stewart Living)

Cake

2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature

3 cups all-purpose flour

2 1/4 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp baking soda

coarse salt

1 3/4 c granulated sugar

4 large eggs, room temperature

1 1/3 c low-fat buttermilk, room temperature

1 tbsp pure vanilla extract

Filling

2 pounds strawberries, cut 1/3 of an inch thick

1/4 c granulated sugar

coarse salt

2 cups cold heavy (whipping) cream

3 tbsp confectioner's sugar

1 1/2 c rhubarb jam (see recipe below)

Directions for making the cake

1. Preheat oven to 350F.  Place rack in center of oven.

2. Butter two (2) 9-inch round cake pans, dust with flour and tap out excess.

3. Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and 1 tsp salt.

4. Beat butter and granulated sugar in mixer until light and fluffy, about two minutes.

5. Reduce speed and add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.

6. Add in flour mixture, alternating with buttermilk, beginning and ending with flour.

7. Add vanilla extract.

8. Divide batter equally between pans.

9. Bake, rotating halfway through, until tops spring back when gently touched and a cake tested inserted into centers comes out clean, about 40 minutes.

10. Transfer to wire racks and let cool in pans, about 20 minutes.

11. Run a knife along edges of cakes and invert onto racks.  Let cool completely.

Directions for making the filling

1. Combine strawberries with granulated sugar, lemon juice and 1/4 tsp salt.  Let stand, stirring occasionally for 30 minutes.  Strain, reserving syrup.

2. Whisk cream with confectioners' sugar until stiff peaks form.

Assembly

1. Trim cake tops.  Slice cakes in half horizontally.  Generously brush 1 cake layer with some reserved syrup, and spread on one-third of the jam.  Top with one-third of the strawberry filling, then one-third of the whipped cream.  Repeat with two more cake layers. 

2. Refridgerate for at least 1 hour.

3. Dust cake with confectioners' sugar before serving.

Rhubarb Jam

2 pounds rhubarb, trimmed and cut crosswise 1/2 inch thick (about 6 1/2 cups)

1 pound sugar (about 2 1/4 cups)

salt

fresh lemon juice

Bring rhubarb, sugar and 1/4 teaspoon salt to a boil in a large pot, stirring often.  Cook, stirring often, until bubbles slow, foam subsides fruit rises to the top,and jam sticks to a wooden spoon, about 10 minutes.  (I found that mine took much longer for the jam to thicken up.)  Let cool for one hour.  Refrigerate.

Great Expectations!

Yikes!  Only four posts in and I'm already doing a recap!  Well, this isn't exactly a recap.  This is more like, what will that chick bake up next?  Does she even cook?  Will she stop making pies and make a cake or something already?  What's with all the fruit?  Where's the chocolate?  (Ahem.  A point of clarification.  By masquerading fruit as "dessert", I can get the Monarch to actually ingest some.  Just don't tell him, ok?)  And will we finally find out how Ted met his kids' mother?  I mean really.  C'mon, dude.  It's been five seasons already.  (OK, I can't really answer that one but I thought I'd throw it in anyway.)

 

So, let's address these one by one (because I'm fastidious that way).

 

Q: What will I bake up next?

A: Hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum, hum.... (I'm stalling.  See, even I'm not sure what I'm going to bake next.  Sometimes it's a long thought-out plan, sometimes it's on impulse, but most of the time it's what's screaming from the fridge asking me to make it now, now, now, otherwise it may not last until tomorrow!)

 

Q: What's with all the baking?  Does she even cook?

A:  How rude!  Of course I cook.

 

Somedays, it's all about the meat....

 Other days, it's all about the potatoes...

 Some days it's about keeping it simple....

And some days, it's not....

Q: Will she stop making pies and make a cake or something already?

A: Yup.  See.  It's that simple.  All you had to do was ask.

 

A Tres Tres Leche delight...

 

Or a honey of a yogurt cheesecake....

Oh, you meant a sky high cake?  Like skyscaper tall with loads of buttercream?  OK.  I'm on it.

 

Q: How about some chocolate?

A: I'm working on this. 

 

Q: What's with all the fruit desserts?

A: What have you got against fruit?!?

 

 Lemon is a sort of fruit, right?

And yes.  There will be more pie.

 

Happy now?

Blueberry & Rhubarb Sticky Buns

I'm a sucker for a challenge.  Read 25 books this year - sign me up.  Play table tennis Wii - watch that nunchuck fly.  Race you to the car - ha!  Beat ya!  So, when I watched Julie and Julia and realized that the modern-day foodie blogger decided to cook the entire first volume of Mastering the Art of French Cooking, I almost became giddy with the idea.  Julie Child.  French cooking (read: lots of butter!).  Over 500 recipes.  One year to do it all in.  What's not to love?  So, I ran to the computer, hopped onto the Amazon site, and ordered a copy of that puppy.  Boeuf bourgignon.  Ile Flottante.  Sauté de Veau Marengo. Gateau de crepes a la Normande.  Sigh.....  Rognons de Veau Flambés.   Volailles en Escabeche.  Um, marrow?  And veal knuckes?  Ahhh, anyway, doesn't 500 recipes in total equals something like 1.369863 recipes a day?  And really, where am I going to find a partridge at this time of year???  OK.  Scrap that idea.  Sorry, Julia.  But what can I do to soothe the competitive beast lurking within?  I'm still working on that.  So for now, I'm just working my way through my wishlist of recipes.  Here's number 54 - otherwise known as blueberry and rhubarb sticky buns.

Making the dough

Making the filling

 

Preparing the pans

 

 Assembly

 

 

The great fruit roll-up

 

 

 

Ta Da!  Sticky Buns!!!

 

 

 

Blueberry & Rhubarb Sticky Buns (recipe adapted from "Fresh with Anna Olson")

Ingredients

Dough

• 2 teaspoons dry active yeast
• 4 tablespoons warm water
• 1/2 cup milk, room temperature
• 1 egg room temperature
• 2 tablespoons sugar
• 2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
• 1/2 cup cream cheese, room temperature

Filling

• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 3 tablespoons maple syrup
• 1 tablespoon cinnamon
• 1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries
• 1 cup fresh or frozen diced rhubarb

Directions

Dough

1. Dissolve yeast in warm water, stir in sugar, and allow to sit for 5 minutes or until frothy.  (I usually leave mine for about 15 minutes).
2. Whisk in milk and egg.
3. Add flour, salt and nutmeg and mix to combine.
4. Add butter and cream cheese and knead in mixer with dough hook for 5 minutes on medium speed.
5. Place dough in a lightly oiled bowl, cover and let rest 1 hour in a draught-free place.

Filling

1. Combine butter, sugar, maple syrup and cinnamon. Spoon a tablespoonful of filling into bottom of each cup of a greased 12-cup muffin tin.

Assembly

1. On a lightly floured surface, roll out dough into a rectangle 1/2- inch thick. Spread remaining filling over the dough, sprinkle with blueberries and diced rhubarb and roll up lengthwise. Slice dough into 12 equal portions and arrange them in muffin tin.
2. Allow to rise for 1/2 hour.
3. Preheat oven to 350 F.
4. Bake 30 minutes, and turn out onto a plate while still warm.