Chapter One
Easy Cakes For Early Enthusiasts

Brown Sugar Pound Cake
How Come Ya Taste So Good, Now?


YOU’LL NEED

A 10-inch tube pan

2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature

½ cup shortening

One 16-ounce box brown sugar (light or dark, about 2¼ cups)

½ cup sugar

5 large eggs

3 cups all-purpose flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

1 cup milk

2 tablespoons vanilla extract

1 cup chopped pecans

Cream Cheese Frosting (optional, facing page)

1. Remember our creaming instructions? At least 1 hour BEFORE you’re ready to mix, set out your butter and eggs.

2. Position a rack so the cake will sit in the middle of the oven, and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line the bottom of your tube pan with parchment paper and spray the sides and bottom with baking spray. (You can also prepare the pan later, while you’re patiently creaming the butter.)

3. Cut up your butter into pats and drop into the bowl of your mixer. Cut your shortening up into 4 parts and add to the bowl.

4. Start your engines and cream the butter and shortening together on medium speed.

5. Combine your sugars together in a separate bowl, then add them, ½ cup at a time, to the creamed mixture, beating 1 to 2 minutes between additions.

6. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating 1 to 2 minutes between additions.

(See? You learned so well the first time, I don’t have to write as much.)

7. While you’re creaming or mixing, in your own sweet time, dry whisk your flour and baking powder together in a separate bowl.

8. Once you’ve added the eggs, slow the mixer down to low speed and add your flour mixture and milk to the batter, alternating between the two. Remember our previous ratio? Add 1 cup of dry ingredients for every ⅓ cup of wet. Beat after each addition. Shift the mixer to medium-high speed and beat for 1 minute more.

9. Slow that mixer slightly and add the vanilla extract. After 1 minute, slow the mixer as low as you can go and add the pecans.

10. Pour the batter into the prepared tube pan and center it in the oven. Bake for 70 minutes or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean.

11. Cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then remove the cake from the pan using our plate-over-pan method and flip it onto a cake rack (see page 28). Continue cooling the cake.

12. If you like, cover with Cream Cheese Frosting.

Cream Cheese Frosting

I like the Brown Sugar Pound Cake just the way it is, but if you like frosting, or say you bake it a little too long and you know it might be too dry, use this recipe. Just frost the top and let a little drip down the sides. You can get it to drip by just adding extra frosting to the edges and using your spatula to lightly pat down the frosting there.


YOU’LL NEED

1 stick (½ cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature

One 8-ounce package cream cheese, at room temperature

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

One 16-ounce box confectioners’ sugar (about 3 ¾cups)

1. Using a mixer, cream the butter and cream cheese exactly the way you creamed the butter and shortening for the cake.

2. Add the vanilla extract and beat.

3. Gradually add the confectioners’ sugar, the same way you added the regular sugar to the batter, ½ cup at a time. Beat until smooth.

4. Now, if your frosting isn’t stiff enough, add a little more confectioners’ sugar. If it’s too stiff, gradually add a tablespoon of butter or as much as you need to reach the desired consistency. Some people like it stiff, some like it soft. Nobody’s right, and it’s your cake.

OK, you’re learning so well that I’m going to shorthand some of the recipes from here on. Use what you know about creaming, beating, and cooling unless otherwise directed.

A few years ago, when my mom was short on cash but long on time, she jotted down all her favorite recipes on index cards and presented them to me in a photo album for Christmas. It was a very thoughtful gift, especially since she included helpful tips like how to “improvise” brown sugar: you stir 2 tablespoons of dark molasses into 1 cup of white sugar.

This pound cake recipe was in the photo album, and it was among the first cakes I made for All Things Considered. It eventually ended up on an index card for Melissa Block, who, despite tremendous self-control, HAD to have a second piece. The office goats will always devour a cake and declare it the “best they’ve ever had”, but if our show’s host breaks focus on her work TWICE because of the Monday cake, I know I’ve got a keeper. And a happy host.

This cake can be sliced thinly, so plan on serving between 16 and 32 people-depending (of course) on how you slice it.

Missy G’s Sweet Potato Pound Cake
A Lesson In Re-Caking

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Re-cake vb: to bake a cake a second, third, or fourth time in an attempt to troubleshoot or finesse a flawed or bland recipe.

I hate flawed recipes. I’m in the news business. I embrace clarity. I embrace veracity. I eschew sloppiness. Badly written or incomplete recipes make me nuts. Ingredients cost money. Firing up the oven costs money. Baking and cooking take up precious weekend time. I hate wasting time. I hate wasting ingredients, energy, and money. Ergo, when I find myself struggling with a bad recipe, I get perturbed. Annoyed. A wee bit vexed.

If it’s an interesting concept, the recipe, I then launch into CSI: Kitchen and try to figure out what makes a good cake go bad.

That’s what happened with this sweet potato pound cake recipe. See, my father is the sweet potato king of Gloucester County, Virginia. He is a man obsessed. He has sweet potatoitis, which is incurable. He’s been known to plant as many as four 600-foot-long rows of sweet potatoes. Each row has about 200 hills of sweet potatoes. There are about 10 to 20 tubers per hill. Do the math. (Hint: it’s a lot of sweet potatoes.)

And he’s overly generous. I hardly cook, but he usually thrusts two bags of sweet potatoes at me, which I then have to find a place for under the sink, which I soon forget about. And then, when I do remember, half of them have shriveled and sprouted, which just makes me mad because I told him not to give me two bags.

All those Golden Nuggets. All those Beauregards. Gone to spud.

So, I needed baking recipes for sweet potatoes. I have a great sweet potato biscuit recipe. I also have two really good sweet potato soufflé recipes. But I thought, wouldn’t it be great to have a sweet potato pound cake recipe?

I found one, and it fell. Three times. Fell despite my attempts to keep it from falling. Three times. I baked it longer, but it was still too moist—it had a steamed pudding texture, rather than a cakeish one. I added ½ cup of flour, but that made it taste more like sweet potato bread. And it was bland. To punch it up, I added some flavors from my sweet potato soufflé recipes: I added ½ cup of diced Granny Smith apples, I added ground cinnamon and maple flavoring, and finally, I sprinkled the batter in the pan with a pecan and brown sugar topping. Lord, it was delicious, but the infernal thing fell again.

When in doubt, call Momma. Momma said, “Did the recipe tell you HOW to cook your mashed sweet potatoes?”

“Um, it said ‘mashed cooked sweet potatoes’”, I answered.

“I assume you boiled them”, she said.

No one knows you like your mother. “I did.”

“Don’t boil”, she instructed. “Bake. Just put them in a shallow pan and bake until they’re done. That’ll get rid of excess moisture, and it will intensify the flavor. That’s what they tell you to do with sweet potato pies. Try it.”

Not only was Momma right (Momma’s always right), but her tip, plus my previous changes to the recipe, produced one scrumptious cake. The ATC staff snarfed the whole thing up, licked the crumbs off their plates, rubbed their bellies, and insisted this was my “best cake ever”, “definitely in your top ten of cakes”, and they begged, “Can I have the recipe?”

Sure. Here it is. It should serve 20 to 32.


YOU’LL NEED

A shallow baking pan

A potato masher

A 10-inch tube pan

FOR THE CAKE

About 4 medium sweet potatoes

2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter

1 cup sugar

1 cup dark brown sugar

4 large eggs

3½ cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon ground nutmeg

½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ teaspoon salt

½ cup milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 teaspoon maple flavoring

½ cup peeled and diced Granny Smith apples

FOR THE TOPPING

2 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into pats

2 tablespoons dark brown sugar

¾ cup chopped pecans

ABOUT 2 HOURS BEFORE MIXING THE CAKE

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Bake your sweet potatoes for at least 45 minutes. Use a knife or a fork to test for doneness—the potato should be very mushy inside its shriveled skin. Remove from oven and cool for 1 hour. Slit each skin lengthwise and remove, leaving the soft, orange center. Mash with a potato masher and measure out 2 cups for this recipe. Cool to room temperature before mixing the cake. If the mashed sweet potatoes are too warm, they will melt the butterfat and the batter won’t get as nice and thick as it should.

TO MAKE THE CAKE

2. Position a rack so the cake will sit in the middle of the oven, and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Line the bottom of your tube pan with parchment paper, and spray the sides and bottom with baking spray.

3. Cream the butter with a mixer on medium speed.

4. Combine the sugars in a separate bowl. Gradually add to the creamed butter, ¼ cup at a time, beating at medium to high speed after each addition.

5. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating at medium to high speed for 1 minute after adding each one.

6. Reduce the mixer to low speed and add the mashed potatoes, ½ cup at a time.

7. In a separate bowl, dry whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, nutmeg, cinnamon, and salt.

8. In another separate bowl, combine the milk, vanilla, and maple flavoring.

9. With the mixer still on low speed, alternately add the flour mixture and milk mixture, beating after each addition. Start with a third of the flour mixture, beat, then add half of the milk mixture, beat again, and repeat until the last of the flour mixture has been added and beaten in.

10. Turn off the mixer, scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula, and then mix the batter on medium to high speed for 2 minutes.

11. Slow the mixer down to the lowest speed and add the apples, mixing until just incorporated.

12. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan and use the back of a spoon to even out and smooth the batter.

TO MAKE THE TOPPING

13. In a separate bowl (I know—it’s like the bowls have Balkanized here), combine the cold butter, brown sugar, and chopped pecans. Mix with a wooden spoon and do not fret because the mixture is crumbly. That’s just the way you want it.

14. Sprinkle the topping all over the surface of the batter.

Bake in the oven for 1 hour and 15 minutes before testing for doneness. Then use a sharp knife to test the cake, and poke it around in a couple of places to determine whether it’s finished. This cake can fool ya.

15. Cool in the pan for 20 minutes. Then, using the plate-over-pan method, unmold the cake and flip it onto a cake rack, topping side up (see page 28).

Key Lime Cake


YOU’LL NEED

An 8-inch square or round cake pan, about 2 inches deep (if doubling, two 8-inch cake pans or one 10-inch tube pan)

A grater

FOR THE CAKE

1 stick (½ cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup sugar

2 large eggs

1¾ cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

⅔ cup heavy whipping cream

1 Key lime

FOR THE GLAZE

½ cup fresh Key lime juice (about 4 limes)

1 cup confectioners’ sugar, plus about 1 tablespoon for dusting

TO MAKE THE CAKE

1. Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line the bottom of your pan with parchment paper and spray the sides and bottom with baking spray.

2. Cream the butter with a mixer on medium speed and gradually add the sugar, beating well after each addition.

3. Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat after each addition.

4. In a separate bowl, dry whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together.

5. Slow down your mixer and add half of the flour mixture to the batter. Beat, then add 1/3 cup of heavy whipping cream. Beat, then add the rest of the flour mixture. Beat, then add the rest of the cream. Beat on medium-high speed for about 2 minutes.

6. Grate the rind of 1 Key lime. Squeeze out about 1 tablespoon of the juice. Add the zest and juice to the batter and beat for 2 minutes.

7. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 20 minutes.

8. Cover the pan with aluminum foil and bake for another 20 minutes. This prevents the top of the cake from browning and burning.

9. Once the cake is done (you know when—the toothpick, skewer, or thin knife comes out clean when inserted in the middle), cool for 10 minutes in the pan. Remove the cake from the pan using our plate-over-pan method and flip it onto a cake rack (see page 28). Put a plate under the cake rack to catch the drips from the glaze. Take a skewer or a toothpick and poke small holes through the top of the cake.

TO MAKE THE GLAZE

10. You can prepare this while the cake is baking. It doesn’t take long at all. Mix the Key lime juice and confectioners’ sugar together in a bowl until smooth (I use a hand whisk, but you can do this in the mixer if you so desire).

11. While cake is still warm, spoon the glaze over the cake, allowing time for the cake to soak up the liquid. After you’re done, you can reuse the juice pooling under the cake on the plate below the rack to further drench your cake.

12. After the cake has cooled, dust with a little confectioners’ sugar and serve.

One of my co-workers, dreaming of getting away to Florida one dreary afternoon, asked if I could bring in a Key lime pie on Monday. “No, I do cake, not pie”, I said. “OK, how about Key lime cake, then?” he asked.

Google is a wonderful thing, which is how I found this recipe on www.cooks.com. It’s a basic yellow cake. You’ll use a toothpick to poke holes through it before drenching with Key lime glaze.

Key lime, named after the Florida Keys, where Ernest Hemingway hung out with his six-toed cats, is also known as Mexican lime, West Indian lime, or bartender’s lime. It’s smaller, seedier, more acidic, and more aromatic than the more common Persian lime. It also has a thinner rind.

To juice the limes, you can buy a not-so-fancy juicer, but unless you plan to have freshly squeezed OJ or lemonade every couple of days, or you have a cavernous kitchen, you can just as easily juice a lime (or lemon or orange) this way: Cut the lime in half and squeeze each half into a bowl. Then, using the back of a metal spoon, press the inside of the fruit against the rind to extract the remaining juice.

This cake is enough for 8 people when baked in an 8-inch round or square pan. To feed more, use two 8-inch pans or one 10-inch tube pan and double the quantities of the ingredients. If you’re using an extra pan, add about 10 minutes to the baking time. For a tube pan, plan on doubling the baking time. And don’t forget to write down how long a doubled recipe takes to bake so that you’ll know for sure the next time.

Travelin’ Cake

Baking can easily expand your waistline. I burn off my extra calories by taking my cake for a walk before work.

I take the Metro, and it’s ten minutes uphill, twenty minutes on the train, and another ten-minute walk through DC’s Chinatown before I reach NPR. My cake tags along in a two-part Wilton cake carry; it’s made of very sturdy plastic and looks like something out of The Jetsons. The plastic cover is molded with a handle on top so it’s extra strong. There are three locks that snap the top and bottom of the carry together. I’ve used my Wilton for years now and NEVER has it come apart in transit. Wilton makes a rectangular one for sheet cakes, too.

Some of my co-workers tell me that their stomachs start growling as soon as they see that cake carry go by, like Pavlov’s dogs salivating at the ring of a bell.

I try to keep paper plates and forks stocked at my desk. I also keep a large cake knife at work, too—it’s one less thing to carry in.

Once I arrive at ATC, I wash my hands, unveil the cake, and cut about 12 slices (about half of a Bundt cake), putting 2 aside for our swing shifters, who don’t arrive until hours later. I then send out the Monday cake e-mail. The cake will usually last about 90 minutes, but we like to say “the memory lasts forever.” Or at least until the next week.

I was on my way to dinner one Monday night in Chinatown and had my empty cake carry with me. When the hostess at the restaurant saw it, she squealed, “It’s YOU!” My dinner companion looked at me and confirmed it was, indeed, me. “No! I see you walking every week with that thing and I always wonder, who gets the cake? And what kind of cake? Misha, look!” She pulled over one of the waitresses, “It’s the cake lady!”

There are a lot of characters in Washington’s Chinatown. The spinning man, who turns circles in his jogging tights as he moves through the crosswalks; the mumbling Indian menu man, who shoves menus in your face as you wait for the Metro; the Friday afternoon street keyboard man, who plays badly; and now the cake lady. I’m honored.

Procrastinatin’ Drunken Monkey Banana Bread


YOU’LL NEED

A 10-inch tube pan

A small saucepan

A kitchen lighter or match

2 cups dried cherries

¾ cup dark rum

2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup sugar

1 cup light brown sugar

4 large eggs

5 or 6 ripe or very ripe bananas

1¼ cups all-purpose flour

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

1 cup chopped walnuts

1. Position a rack so the cake will sit in the middle of the oven, and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line the bottom of your tube pan with parchment paper, and spray the sides and bottom with baking spray.

2. In a saucepan on medium-high heat, plump the dried cherries in the rum and flame them.

3. Cream the butter with a mixer on medium speed. Combine the sugars in a separate bowl and gradually add the sugars, beating well after each addition.

4. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating just enough to incorporate after each addition.

5. In a separate bowl, mash the bananas. Then drain off the slightly thickened water and rum mixture from saucepan into the mashed bananas and stir. Add the bananas to the creamed mixture and beat on medium speed until well blended. FYI: The mixture will not look smooth and creamy. It will look like melted Chunky Monkey ice cream.

6. In still another bowl, dry whisk the flours, salt, and baking soda together. Add to the batter with the mixer on low speed. Add the vanilla extract and mix well on medium speed.

7. Using a spatula or a wooden spoon, stir in plumped cherries and walnuts.

8. Pour batter into the pan and smooth the top with a spatula.

9. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean.

10. Cool the cake in the pan for 10 minutes. Remove the cake from the pan using our plate-over-pan method and flip it onto a cake rack (see page 28). Continue cooling the cake on the wire rack.

NEW TECHNIQUE

PLUMPING DRIED FRUIT WITH RUM (IT WORKS WITH BRANDY, TOO!)

Put 2 cups of dried fruit (cherries in this case) in a small saucepan and pour in just enough water to submerge half the fruit, about ¾ cup. Bring to a boil and continue boiling until most of the water has boiled away. Add ¾ cup of rum and leave on the heat for 30 seconds, just enough to warm the rum. Turn off the heat completely. Then, using a kitchen lighter (a lighter with a long nozzle that kind of looks like a gun) or a long match, LIGHT the rum. POOF! You’ll have pretty blue flames dancing around the tops of your plumped fruit. Let the flames die (about 2 minutes), then set aside.

The Barefoot Contessa’s Sour Cream Coffee Cake
Culinary And Cinematic History—All In One Recipe!


YOU’LL NEED

A 10-inch tube pan

FOR THE CAKE

1½ sticks (¾ cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1½ cups sugar

3 extra-large eggs

1½ teaspoons pure vanilla extract

1¼ cups sour cream

½ cups cake flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

FOR THE STREUSEL

¼ cup light brown sugar

½ cup all-purpose flour

1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces

¾ cup chopped walnuts (optional)

FOR THE GLAZE

½ cup confectioners’ sugar

2 tablespoons real maple syrup

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Grease and flour a 10-inch tube pan.

2. Cream the butter and sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer with the paddle attachment for 4 to 5 minutes, until light.

3. Add the eggs one at a time, then add the vanilla and sour cream.

4. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture to the batter until just combined. Finish stirring with a spatula to be sure the batter is completely mixed.

Melissa’s Note: Don’t worry about sifting—dry whisking will work fine.

5. For the streusel, place the brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, salt, and butter in a bowl and pinch together with your fingers until it forms crumbs. Mix in the walnuts, if desired.

Melissa’s Note: You can also use a wooden spoon if you don’t want to use your fingers.

6. Spoon half the batter into the pan and spread it out with a knife. Sprinkle with ¾ cup streusel. Spoon the rest of the batter in the pan, spread it out, and scatter the remaining streusel on top. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, until a cake tester comes out clean.

7. Let cool on a wire rack for at least 30 minutes. Carefully transfer the cake, streusel side up, to a serving plate.

8. For the glaze, whisk the confectioners’ sugar and maple syrup together, adding a few drops of water if necessary, to make the glaze runny. Drizzle as much as you like over the cake with a fork or spoon.

Coffee cakes are different from dessert cakes. They are often stratified by a layer of streusel running through the middle and another one covering the top. I’ve noticed they are generally less sweet than regular dessert cakes, too, and that makes them good companions to coffee or tea.

Streusel is a German word that means “something scattered or sprinkled”; it refers to a crumb topping made of butter, flour, and sugar, sometimes combined with spices and chopped nuts. You’ve already made one (the topping for the sweet potato pound cake), so don’t panic.

Elizabeth Tannen, a former colleague at ATC, spent the bulk of her day at the office negotiating interviews with senators, congresspeople, generals, cabinet secretaries, and the like. She is very persistent, and she lobbied hard for this cake. I’m glad she did. This recipe is considered by many to be one of the best sour cream coffee cake recipes ever. It’s by Ina Garten, a former White House staffer who’s also known as “the Barefoot Contessa”, which is the name of the specialty food store in the Hamptons she bought back in the late ’70s, when life in Washington got too dull (it was, after all, the Carter administration and we were living in a fit of malaise). Her first cookbook and her cooking show on the Food Network have the same name, which was itself inspired by the 1954 movie The Barefoot Contessa, starring Humphrey Bogart and Ava Gardner.

Gardner (not Garten—it’s easy to get them confused) plays a fictional Spanish sex symbol, who marries the love of her life but remains childless because he’s got an old war wound. Gardner (again, not Garten; let’s not start rumors here) takes a lover and becomes pregnant. But, tragically, her husband kills her and the father of her unborn child.

Hmmm. I think I like this sour cream coffee cake much, much better than the movie.

Many thanks to Ina Garten, who has allowed me to reprint her recipe, originally published in Barefoot Contessa Parties!, with my notes. This is a good opportunity for you to read someone else’s recipe style while applying what you’ve learned so far.

This cake serves between 16 and 20 people.

Argroves Manor Coffee Cake

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YOU’LL NEED

A saucepan

A 10-inch tube pan

FOR THE STEWED FRUIT

¾ cup sugar

½ cup water

½ cup blueberries

1 large apple (Granny Smith if you like bitter, Gala if you like sweet, but NOT Red Delicious!) cored, peeled, and chopped

FOR THE STREUSEL

½ cup all-purpose flour

1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon

¼ teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into pats

¾ cup light brown sugar

¾ cup chopped walnuts

FOR THE CAKE

2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter

2 cups sugar

2 large eggs

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

1 cup vanilla yogurt

This cake was the result of a lot of re-caking and a near disaster. I settled on the final version while I was home on leave, recovering from surgery. I sent it in to work and was besieged by a flurry of satiated e-mails later that afternoon.

I’m told it caused a “collective cake-gasm.” I would have liked to have seen that.

Here’s how I came up with this recipe: One New Year’s, at my father-in-law, Bo Argroves’s, house in Greenville, Georgia, I was working on a coffee cake, using my Southern Living cookbook and the ingredients at hand. There was no sour cream or vanilla extract in the house. But Mr. Argroves’s refrigerator was stocked with vanilla yogurt, because that’s usually what I have for breakfast. I used that instead. The cake turned out so well, I couldn’t wait to try it out on the ATC staff when I got back home.

The second time I made it, I got all fancy and added pecans and a little extra yogurt, then baked the cake in a sunflower-shaped cake pan. I was in a rush to get to work, so I didn’t test the cake when I pulled it out of the oven, just took a look at the dark brown crust and thought, “That looks done.” I showered while it cooled, but later, when I went to unmold it, part of the cake stayed behind in the pan.

Disgusted, I headed for the trash can, but that voice in my head piped up, “Pecans are expensive!” Thrift got the better of vanity, so I wrapped up this embarrassment and into work it went.

And the crowd went wild. They could not believe I was going to throw this cake away. They especially loved the moistness and the nuts.

In the final version, I cut back the yogurt to 1 cup, swapped the pecans for the Barefoot Contessa’s streusel (see page 54), and added stewed blueberries and apple to the inside of the cake. I’ve also moved the cake into a tube pan so it bakes all the way through.

Because yogurt is acidic and there’s no additional baking soda in the recipe to neutralize it (remember—there is a little baking soda in baking powder), the cake won’t rise high. Instead, it’s going to be stocky, but nimble (heavy, but not dense) and rather moist, just a house down from gooey. This recipe saves you from the drudgery of careful beating—you just want to beat your batter enough to thoroughly mix the ingredients, with no worries about getting air into it since it won’t rise much anyway. It’s a delicious cake, but it’s insanely delicious when served warm, as you can figure out from Quinn’s e-mail.

This cake is best served in thick slices, so plan on at least 16 to 20 cake-gasms.

TO MAKE THE STEWED FRUIT

1. We start with the stewed fruit, which will be ready by the time you’re done with the batter and the streusel, in about 20 minutes. Put the sugar and water in saucepan on medium heat. Stir until sugar is submerged, then add the blueberries and apple. Cook for 5 minutes, and reduce the heat to simmer.

2. Continue cooking, keeping a constant eye on the mixture to make sure it doesn’t burn, and stirring every 2 to 3 minutes. You want the blueberries to break down in the liquid and the apple to become tender. Once the mixture has become thick, like syrup, turn off the heat and set aside.

TO MAKE THE STREUSEL

3. Dry whisk the flour, cinnamon, and salt together in a bowl. Add the cold butter and brown sugar. Using your fingers or a wooden spoon, combine the ingredients. Knead and crumble until the mixture has an uneven, oatmeal-like texture. Add the walnuts. Make sure the mixture is moist throughout, but crumbly. Set aside.

TO MAKE THE CAKE

4. Position a rack so the cake will sit in the middle of the oven, and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line the bottom of your tube pan with parchment paper, and spray the sides and bottom with baking spray.

5. Cream butter with a mixer on medium speed and gradually add the sugar, beating well after each addition. Add the eggs, one at a time, and beat well after each addition.

6. In a separate bowl, dry whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together.

7. With the mixer on low speed, add 1 cup of the dry ingredients, followed by ½ cup of the flour mixture, beat, then add ½ cup of the yogurt and beat again. Repeat once more, beating after each addition. Then beat for 2 more minutes.

TO FINISH THE CAKE

8. Pour half the batter into the prepared tube pan. Using a spatula, spread out the batter evenly. Using a wooden spoon, spoon out the stewed blueberries and apple syrup. Then scatter about three-quarters of your streusel on top. Pour the remaining batter into the pan and smooth it out with a spatula.

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9. Move the spatula through the batter in 4 or 5 spots, angling it down, then bringing it up. This will spread the blueberry and apple syrup through to the bottom of the coffee cake.

10. Sprinkle the remaining streusel on top of the batter. Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the middle comes out clean.

11. Cool the cake in the pan for 15 minutes. You’ll notice the cake will start falling in. That’s OK; that’s what it does. Unmold the cake using our plate-over-pan method and flip it onto a serving plate (see page 28). Be careful, as the streusel topping can become loose and go all over creation.

12. Cut thick slices and serve warm.

Miss Saigon Cinnamon Almond Coffee Cake


YOU’LL NEED

An 8-inch square baking pan

FOR THE STREUSEL

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

½ cup dark brown sugar

2 teaspoons Saigon cinnamon

1 cup sliced almonds

2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

FOR THE CAKE

¼ cup shortening

1 cup sugar

2 large eggs

1½ cups all-purpose flour

4 teaspoons baking powder

½ cup vanilla yogurt

1 teaspoon almond extract

TO MAKE THE STREUSEL

1. In a microwavable dish, melt the butter on high power, about 1 minute. Set aside.

2. In a separate bowl, combine the brown sugar, cinnamon, almonds, and flour. Add the melted butter and stir.

TO MAKE THE CAKE

3. Position a rack so the cake will sit in the middle of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. When preparing the pan, skip the parchment paper for this one—you may want to serve the cake out of the pan. Do spray the sides and bottom with baking spray.

4. Cream the shortening with a mixer on medium speed and gradually add the sugar, beating well after each addition.

5. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.

6. In a separate bowl, dry whisk the flour and baking powder together.

7. Add a third of the flour mixture to the creamed mixture, beat, then add ¼ cup of the yogurt and beat again. Repeat once more, add the remaining flour mixture, and beat again.

8. Add the almond extract and beat well.

TO FINISH THE CAKE

9. Using your spatula, guide about half of your batter into the prepared pan and smooth it out. Sprinkle a third of your streusel over the batter. Layer the rest of your batter over the streusel and smooth again. Sprinkle the remaining streusel over the batter.

10. Bake for 40 minutes, or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean. Cool the cake in the pan and serve it straight out of the pan. OR cool the cake in the pan for 10 minutes, then carefully unmold onto a serving plate (see page 28). Remember to cover the top with parchment paper before flipping it over—you don’t want the streusel going all over your nice, clean kitchen floors or your nice, clean tootsies.

If you were one of those kids who couldn’t wait to chaw on a hot fireball candy, then this coffee cake is for you. It will work fine with regular cinnamon (which isn’t true cinnamon; see page 103 for details) but if you do like I do and use Saigon cinnamon, you’ll get just a hint of those fireballs that hurt so good.

Saigon cinnamon is the spice used to heat up many a Vietnamese dish. You can find it in any well-stocked grocery store. McCormick, the spice company, sells a potent bottle of it for a little more than what you’d normally pay for regular cinnamon. It’s in their Gourmet Collection line.

Now, you may be tempted to turn up the heat on this coffee cake by adding MORE than the recommended 2 teaspoons to the streusel, but my co-worker Graham Smith says simply, “Don’t.” Graham thinks the ratio of Saigon cinnamon to other key ingredients is just right: too much cinnamon would overpower the yogurty tang of the cake and the smooth almond taste of the streusel. Why would I listen to Graham (other than the fact that I’m paid to listen to Graham, a senior producer, two pay grades up from me)? He’s a talented cook and a good baker in his own right. While some of us dash out for salads or burritos at noon, Graham has the most exquisite bag lunches: I’ve seen him blissfully gnawing on a succulent-looking leg of lamb at his desk more than once. One day, he’s going to write All Lunches Considered.

This cake serves between 8 and 16.

Dorie Greenspan’s Swedish Visiting Cake


YOU’LL NEED

A round 8- or 9-inch cake pan

A small, shallow baking pan or a pie pan

A cookie sheet

½ cup sliced almonds

1 stick (½ cup) unsalted butter

1 cup sugar, plus 1 teaspoon for sprinkling

Grated zest of 1 lemon (see Tip)

2 large eggs

¼ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ teaspoon almond extract

1 cup all-purpose flour

Tip: The zest is the sweet outer rind of the lemon—the yellow part, not the white pith. You can also buy dried grated lemon peel in the spice section of some markets, along with dried orange peel. Consider stocking them in your spice collection.

1. Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray the sides and bottom of the pan with baking spray.

2. Toast the nuts.

NEW TECHNIQUE

TOASTING NUTS

Spread out the nuts, in this case ½ cup of almonds, in a baking pan or pie pan. Put in the oven, preheated to 350 degrees F, for 3 minutes. Using an oven mitt, shake the pan like you would a popcorn bag, and return to the oven for about 3 more minutes. Be very careful not to let them burn!

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3. Melt the butter on the stove top or in the microwave on high power and set aside to cool.

4. In a large mixing bowl, combine the cup of sugar and the lemon zest. Blend them, using your fingers (Dorie really likes working with her fingers) or a wooden spoon, until the sugar is moist and smells lemony.

5. Add the eggs, one at a time, whisking after each addition.

6. Whisk in the salt and extracts.

7. Using a rubber spatula, stir in the flour.

8. Fold in the melted butter.

NEW TECHNIQUE

FOLDING

Folding is fun, once you learn how to do it properly. This is not stirring, NO NO NO. You’ll need to master this for future recipes, using melted butter or egg whites. I learned how to do this from reading Carole Walter’s book Great Cakes.

Why fold? When you’re combining two things that have different densities (creamed batter and egg whites, for instance), folding ensures that you’re blending them together without deflating the egg whites.

Huh, what?

Just like beating your batter, whisking your egg whites introduces air into your recipe. When folding, we’re trying to combine the heavier batter with the lighter egg whites and avoid losing that air. Folding is also handy when you want to avoid overmixing: you may want to use it when adding chocolate, nuts, dried fruit, or in this case, melted butter to the aerated batter.

Here’s how Carole Walter teaches you to fold: Start with a small amount of what you’re adding to the batter, say ¼ or ⅓ a cup. Then hold a rubber spatula with the curved edge away from you and cut down through the center of the batter. Move the spatula toward you under the batter, running it along the bottom of the bowl, then up the side of the bowl until the spatula is out of the batter.

Flip the spatula back into its starting position: center of the bowl, curved edge away. With your other hand, rotate the bowl, yes, the bowl, slowly, as you continue to repeat the folding motion with the spatula. Run the spatula around the sides of the bowl every so often.

After one or two full rotations, add the rest of the melted butter, the egg whites, or whatever you’re folding in, and repeat. It may take several more full rotations before the folding is done. You’ll know, because the batter will be evenly mixed and your arm will be very tired.

9. Pour the batter into the pan and smooth the top with the spatula.

10. Scatter the toasted almonds over the batter and sprinkle with the remaining teaspoon of sugar.

11. Center the cake pan on the oven rack and bake for 25 to 30 minutes, or until golden brown and a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean.

12. Cool the cake in the pan for 5 minutes, then run a knife around the inside of the pan to loosen the cake. You can serve it in the warm pan, or unmold (see page 28) and serve on a plate.

I’d been working at ATC for about a year when Dorie Greenspan’s book Baking: From My Home to Yours showed up in my mailbox; it was sent by a publicist hoping for an interview on the show. Our host Michele Norris had a copy, too, and after I did a pre-interview with Dorie via cell phone, we booked her to talk about holiday baking.

And we fell in love with her. Dorie is adorable: a baking pixie, who’s full of great ideas, sage advice, and endless patience. After that one interview, Michele invited her back as a semiregular guest. Together, we and our listeners have learned to bake rugelach, a variation of Katharine Hepburn’s brownies, and figgy pudding.

Dorie’s books are just as fun and reassuring as she is. It was the first time since I’d started the Cake Project that I’d come across an author who I felt was holding my hand, not talking down to me. I’ve baked about two-thirds of the recipes in Baking, and all of them have been excellent.

This is one of my favorites. Along with my grandmother’s sour cream pound cake (page 17), this Swedish visiting cake has become a “satisfies everyone” standby. In fact, it tastes like a Nordic relative of the sour cream pound cake, but it’s more almondy than tangy. And it’s quick and easy: you don’t even need to plug in the mixer.

As Dorie explains, the story behind it is that you could start making the cake when you saw guests coming up the road and it would be ready by the time they settled down for coffee. “They must have long roads in Sweden!” she laughs.

The only thing I tinkered with in this recipe was the almonds: I double the quantity and toast them. I love toasted almonds and figured it was a great opportunity for you to learn a new skill. A warning here: If you’re feeding more than 8 people at the office, double the recipe, use 2 round cake pans, and add about 10 more minutes of baking time. I made the mistake of doing a single cake and was faced with a legion of sad, puppy-eyed beggars reduced to scrounging cake crumbs, tearing at their eyes, rending their shirts, and asking, “Why? WHY didn’t you bake TWO?!?” So dramatic, I thought the world was ending. This is one problem you run into, doing office cakes—your colleagues’ disappointment is proportional to their gratitude.

Dorie Greenspan’s Rum-Drenched Vanilla Cakes

This rum–soaked vanilla cake is kind of like pound cake with a “yo-ho-ho” and an “arrrrrrrrgh, Matey.” Christopher Turpin, All Things Considered’s executive producer, almost fell out of his chair when he tasted his first slice, exclaiming, “OH MY GOD! IT’S RUM! Wow!” I opted not to give Steve Inskeep a slice that day, because he was still on the air with Morning Edition. Hey, friends don’t let friends eat rum-soaked cake while hosting a national radio show.

Dorie’s original recipe called for rubbing the pulp of a pair of moist, pliable vanilla beans into the sugar. That might be a little much since you’re just starting out here, so I’ve just substituted vanilla extract. But I do use high quality dark rum, just as she instructs. This is another recipe for which you don’t need to plug in your mixer.

Make the syrup as soon as you get the cakes into the oven—that way the syrup will be cool when you’re ready to use it. This recipe calls for loaf pans. Depending on how you slice it, you can get between 10 and 14 servings off a loaf. With 2 pans, that means 20 to 28 servings (nice that I did the math for you, isn’t it?).


YOU’LL NEED

Two 8 ½-inch loaf pans

A cookie sheet

A sturdy hand whisk

A basting brush (It’s like a paint brush, but for cooking.)

FOR THE CAKE

1 stick plus 7 tablespoons (15 tablespoons) unsalted butter

2⅔ cups all-purpose flour

2½ teaspoons baking powder

Pinch of salt

2¼ cups sugar

6 large eggs

1½ tablespoons vanilla extract

⅔ cup heavy whipping cream

2½ tablespoons dark rum

FOR THE SYRUP

⅓ cup water

¼ cup sugar

¼ cup dark rum

TO MAKE THE CAKE

1. Center a rack and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line the bottom of your pans with parchment paper, and spray the sides and bottoms with baking spray.

2. Melt your butter, either on the stove top or in the microwave on high power. Set aside and let it cool. In the meantime, take out your eggs and bring them to room temperature (about 30 minutes).

3. In a separate bowl, dry whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together. Set aside.

4. In a large bowl, measure out the sugar and then add the eggs, one at a time, whisking after each addition until thoroughly blended with the sugar.

5. Whisk in the vanilla extract, then the cream, then the rum.

6. Using a rubber spatula, gently add a third of the flour mixture, stirring until just blended before adding the next third. Repeat until all of the flour mixture has been blended in. The batter should be smooth and thick.

7. Fold in half of the melted butter. When incorporated, fold in the rest.

8. Pour the batter into the prepared pans and smooth the tops with the spatula.

9. Place the pans on a cookie or baking sheet and bake. After 30 minutes, check the cakes for color. If they are browning too quickly, take a sheet of aluminum foil and lightly cover them.

10. Bake for an additional 25 or 30 minutes, until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the center of each cake comes out clean.

TO MAKE THE SYRUP

11. You start by making what’s called a simple syrup: Stir the water and sugar together in a medium saucepan over medium heat. After the sugar dissolves, bring the mixture to a medium boil. (Medium, because a full boil will burn the sugar and you do not want that, believe you me). Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the rum. Pour the syrup into a heat-proof bowl to cool.

TO FINISH THE CAKE

12. When the cakes are done, cool for 5 minutes in the pans before unmolding them and transferring them to cake racks. (Remember our technique from the first recipe on page 28? Well, you’ll want to flip the loaf pans like you would the tube pan, so the cakes end up with their browned tops facing up, unless you’re using decorative molds.)

13. Place the cake racks over a baking sheet lined with parchment or wax paper to catch the drips. Using a thin knife, a long toothpick, or a cake tester (a thin wire you can buy in a specialty cooking store), poke holes through the cake.

14. Slowly brush the cakes with syrup, allowing time for the cakes to absorb the syrup. Leave the cakes on the racks to cool to room temperature before serving.

Of Office Cake and Office Cake Eaters

You’ll notice after you’ve made several office cakes that your co-workers have definite likes and dislikes. Because of this, I try to keep everybody happy by varying the type of cake I make from week to week. At NPR, here’s the breakdown of tastes around the office:

The People’s Pound Cake Coalition

This is a conservative group for which there is no other type of cake. They like it moist. They like it heavy. They like its thin, sweet, chewy crust. Try to talk to them about the glories of another type of cake, and they’ll pretend they didn’t hear you, that a fire truck just passed by, or that you spoke in Urdu (I think one person on staff actually speaks Urdu).

The Chocolate Cake Caucus

Dedicated hedonists and out-of-control addicts, they don’t care if it’s pudding, pound, or layer, so long as it is chocolate. There’s no need for interoffice e-mail or a call over the P.A., these people communicate and orchestrate their movements like army ants. They will appear suddenly in one long, continuous line, and they will ravish said cake. There will be nothing left. No crumbs. No icing. One time, even the plate went missing (it’s true—I found it in the second-floor pantry the next day, and I swear, it had been LICKED clean). Now, surely you jest, Melissa. Um … no, it’s been my experience that a chocolate cake at the office will be whittled down to the last quarter slice in less than 30 minutes. Science reporter Joanne Silberner has a lot to do with this. If the CCC ever marches down the block to Capitol Hill in an attempt to overthrow the federal government, arrest her.

The Spice–and–Vice Alliance

Lovers of fruits and nuts join forces with those who relish spice and liquor in their cakes. This is a live-and-let-live kind of group. While they don’t share the narrow tastes of the PPCC or the all-consuming drive of the CCC, they do believe in the freedom to hold such narrow views of cake, so long as it doesn’t interfere at any time with having apples, walnuts, ginger, or rum in their batter. While membership in the CCC tends to be mostly female, I’ve noticed that the S & VA members tend to be mostly male.

Now, there are smaller factions of cake eaters, but they’re either one-man islands (with mantras such as “I eat NO CAKE BUT ALMOND CAKE!” “COCONUT OR COCONOT!” and “IF IT’S NOT GOT SOUR CREAM, IT’S BLOODY WELL NOT FOR ME!”), or they’re so congenial that they fall into a broader convention: the big tent o’ cake eaters.

These folks just love having cake, any cake, and rather than fight over the flavor (which may result in cessation of all office cake), they just want all of us to get along.

Now, you might think that I’d fall into the big tent o’ cake category, given that I’m writing this book and all, but you’d be wrong. While I do generally like all cake (except that spawn of the devil, carrot cake, a recipe that will not appear in this book), I’m an unapologetic member of the Spice-and-Vice Alliance.

In fact, if I had a party handle, it would be Ginger. Not because I have red hair, not because I wish I was Spice Girl Geri Halliwell, nor because I wish I were as smart as Ginger Ogren (Gloucester High School, class of 1987). No, it’s because my default cake, the thing I’ll whip up on a whim, is gingerbread. And that’s why there are two recipes for it in this chapter.

Gingerbread, GLORIOUS GINGERBREAD

Gingerbread is easy, and perfect for those midweek office lulls. When the weather’s rainy or cold and I think we need a pickup, I’ll get up a half hour early and mix up a batch. By the time I’ve read the newspaper and had breakfast, it’s ready to come out of the oven and cool. And by the time I’m out of the shower, it’s ready to wrap up and carry in.

Ginger is used in most every cuisine in the world, though gingerbread is primarily a medieval European creation. According to one Web site I visited, the United States has a greater variety of gingerbread recipes than any other country. (I am skeptical of some of the things I read on the Internet: Just how did they determine this? Do the good folks at Pew Research cold-call residents in Sri Lanka, Lithuania, and Peru? ‘Cause if Pew president and pollster Andy Kohut wasn’t behind it, I may choose not to believe it.)

Now, the use of ginger for flavoring food and for medicinal purposes goes way back to ancient China. And, ginger’s not a root, it’s a rhizome—a “somewhat elongated, usually horizontal subterranean plant stem that is often thickened by deposits of reserve food material, produces shoots above and roots below, and is distinguished from a true root in possessing buds, nodes, and usually scalelike leaves”, according to the Merriam-Webster’s dictionary holding up my computer monitor. Bleeding heart plants are rhizomes. But bleeding heart bread doesn’t sound too great now does it, smarty-pants?

Ginger’s good for what ails ya, if what ails ya is nausea. When I have the flu, I crave ginger ale with crushed ice because that’s what Momma used to give me back when I was a wee gal, along with sympathy, chicken noodle soup, and saltines. Western women don’t usually eat ginger to counteract morning sickness, but Chinese women traditionally do.

There are some people who are allergic to ginger. They don’t break out, they break wind. Or they burp. So if you’re one of them, think twice and plan accordingly before trying out these recipes.

Gingerbread

This comes from my well-worn 1971 edition of Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book. Momma picked up a copy of it at a yard sale when she was collecting things for my first apartment. It is a hoot from the very beginning: “Dear Homemaker: From cover to cover, this Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book was written with you, the homemaker, in mind. … Whether you’re an experienced cook, or a newcomer to the world of cooking three meals a day, we want it to be your best friend in the kitchen.” It’s signed “The Editors.”

Well, bless your heart, Editors. My best friend in the kitchen is my microwave, which heats two of the three meals I eat every day.

While the Editors might have missed a few episodes of Maude and probably the entire feminist movement, most of the BH&GNCB baking recipes have withstood the test of time.

Here’s a tip for this one: if you start to make it and realize you don’t quite have enough molasses, make up the difference with honey. I was desperate one morning and tried it—pretty delicious!

This recipe serves 8 to 10, depending on how you slice it.


YOU’LL NEED

An 8-inch square or 9-inch round pan

½ cup shortening

½ cup sugar

1 large egg

½ cup molasses (I use dark, or “robust”)

1½ cups all-purpose flour

¾ teaspoon salt

¾ teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon ground ginger

½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ cup boiling water (see Tip)

Tip: OK, you should be able to figure this out, but some rookies don’t: You boil MORE than ½ cup of water. When the water reaches the boiling stage, THEN you measure it out.

1. Center a rack and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray the sides and bottom of the pan with baking spray.

2. Cream the shortening on medium speed and add the sugar gradually, beating thoroughly after each addition.

3. Add the egg and beat until incorporated. Add the molasses and beat until incorporated.

4. In a separate bowl, dry whisk the flour, salt, baking soda, ginger, and cinnamon together.

5. Add half of the flour mixture to the creamed mixture, beat at medium speed until blended, and then add the boiling water. Beat again, then add the remaining flour mixture and beat until smooth.

6. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean.

7. Cool the cake in the pan for 10 minutes. Remove the cake from the pan using our plate-over-pan method and flip it onto a cake rack (see page 28). Continue cooling the cake.

8. Serve and make 8 to 10 of your friends very friendly indeed, or curl up in your La-Z-Boy and eat alone with your cat.

ATF Gingerbread

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I don’t know the real name of this recipe, but it’s from my neighbor Jane Marshall. Her mom was a home economics instructor back in the ‘50s, so consequently, Jane knows a good recipe when she sees one. She jotted this down after watching Bon Appétit Catering in July 1985. While Jane’s not a big fan of gingerbread, she loves this recipe. I call it ATF (as in the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives) because it’s made with dark beer and crystallized ginger. Bite into one of those chunks of crystallized ginger, and you think your mouth might explode. And then you’re addicted.

Like our previous gingerbread recipe, this serves 8 to 10, depending on how many come back for seconds.


YOU’LL NEED

An 8-inch square or 9-inch round baking pan

1 stick (½ cup) unsalted butter

2 tablespoons dark brown sugar

1 large egg

1 cup molasses

1 cup dark beer (see Tip)

2¼ cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1½ teaspoons ground cloves

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Dash of salt

½ cup crystallized ginger, broken into small chunks (see Wallet Warning)

Gingery Cream Cheese Frosting (optional, page 73)

Tip: That’s roughly two-thirds of a bottle from a six-pack. Measure out the 1 cup and drink the rest of the bottle, not the rest of the six-pack. Remember: friends don’t let friends bake drunk.

Wallet Warning: Crystallized ginger is expensive. I think ½ cup ran me something like $5 at the local Safeway. But the cake was worth the expense. Especially since I had 5 bottles of dark beer left over

1. Center a rack and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray the sides and bottom of pan with baking spray.

2. Cream the butter with the mixer on medium speed, add the brown sugar, and beat well.

3. Still at medium speed, add the egg, molasses, and dark beer all together. Beat well for 1 to 2 minutes.

4. In a separate bowl, dry whisk the flour, baking soda, ground cloves, ground cinnamon, and salt together. Add to the batter in thirds, beating well after each addition.

5. Using a spatula, fold in the crystallized ginger (remember our folding lesson with the Swedish Visiting Cake on page 62).

6. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 45 to 50 minutes, or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

7. Cool the cake in the pan for 10 minutes. Remove the cake from the pan using our plate-over-pan method and flip it onto a cake rack (see page 28). Continue cooling the cake. You can also serve the cake right in the pan, if you so desire.

8. If you decided to go for the frosting, spread it over the cake. Or serve as is. Like with our other gingerbread recipe (page 69), you can make your friends friendlier, or curl up in your La-Z-Boy and eat alone with your cat.

VARIATIONS

This is where using your colleagues as guinea pigs comes in handy. One week, I decided to double the ATF Gingerbread recipe, but instead of doubling the all-purpose flour, I stuck with the original amount and added an equal amount of whole wheat. Reporter Ari Shapiro, who loves to cook and bake, weighed in:

From: Ari Shapiro

To: Melissa Gray

Subject: RE: Today’s cake

This is a really awesome cake.

I love that it’s hardly sweet,

and that gingery bite!

From: Melissa Gray

To: Ari Shapiro

Subject: RE: Today’s cake

Yeah, that bite would have been

a little MORE gingery if I’d had

another 1/2 cup of crystallized

ginger! Ouch! The flour mix is half

white/half wheat. Can you tell

the wheat’s in there?

From: Ari Shapiro

To: Melissa Gray

Subject: RE: Today’s cake

Yeah, the cake feels rustic in a

good way. I think it’s a combination

of several things–the wheat

flour, the beer, the amount of

sugar …

From: Melissa Gray

To: Ari Shapiro

Subject: RE: Today’s cake

I’ll file this one under “rustic”

then! Thanks for the feedback!

From: Ari Shapiro

To: Melissa Gray

Subject: RE: Today’s cake

Thanks for the cake!

Gingery Cream Cheese Frosting

Now, as you might suspect, ATF Gingerbread is a more aromatic and less sweet gingerbread than what you’re used to. If you’re one of those who needs the sweet and doesn’t mind just a little more kick, I recommend this frosting, which I found in Sharing Our Best, a community cookbook project sponsored by the Gideon Sunday School Class of Providence Baptist Church, in Gloucester, Virginia.

The recipe makes enough to heavily frost one 8- or 9-inch layer, or the top of a cake baked in a 10-inch tube pan.


YOU’LL NEED

3 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature

½ stick (¼ cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 cups confectioners’ sugar

½ teaspoon ground ginger

Cream the cream cheese, butter, and vanilla at medium speed. Add the confectioners’ sugar gradually, add the ginger, and beat until smooth.

Like, baking with chocolate: A Few Things You Should Know

If you’ve never seen the 1993 magical realist Mexican film Like Water for Chocolate, run—do not walk—to your nearest DVD rental or access your Netflix account. There’s a scene involving a chocolate mole (mo-lay), a sauce that might possibly make you daydream sensual thoughts of seducing your lover by baking with chocolate. Unfortunately for me, my lover/husband hates chocolate. If only I knew how to bake Cheetos.

People who love chocolate REALLY love chocolate, so when you’re making a chocolate cake for the office, you’re practically guaranteed the status of a minor deity for at least a day. But not all chocolate is the same, and it’s important you use the best chocolate for the job.

Chocolate comes from the beans of the cacao tree. The beans are roasted, then crushed to separate the meat, or nib of the bean, from the husk and the germ. Through grinding and heating, the nibs produce chocolate liquor, which is about 55 percent cocoa butter. The liquor is then processed into different types of chocolate.

Unsweetened chocolate, also known as baking chocolate, smells great but tastes terrible. It usually comes in 1 inch squares.

Bittersweet or semisweet chocolate can be maddening, because there’s no set rule for how much sugar can be added to the chocolate, and each manufacturer has its own “secret” formula. You may have to try a few brands to find the one that you prefer. Bittersweet and semisweet chocolate are made by combining chocolate liquor, sugar, cocoa butter, lecithin (a soybean product), and vanilla. They’re sold in bars, blocks, and morsels.

Most white chocolate isn’t really chocolate. It’s made from cocoa butter without the chocolate liquor. The cocoa butter is mixed with sugar, milk, and vanilla. It’s very rich, has a very low melting point, and shouldn’t be substituted for regular chocolate. It’s also sold in bars, blocks, and morsels.

Milk chocolate is ideal for cravings, not for baking, so forget that. It’s got a higher milk and sugar content than other true chocolates.

Unsweetened cocoa is a powder made by removing at least 75 percent of the cocoa butter from chocolate liquor.

Dutch process unsweetened cocoa is similar to unsweetened cocoa, except the acid in the chocolate has been neutralized before processing. This gives the cocoa a milder flavor and makes it easier to dissolve. It should only be used in recipes where baking powder is the primary leavening agent. Dutch process and regular unsweetened cocoa are NOT interchangeable.

Both cocoas are sold in lidded containers. When baking with them, you will usually mix them with other dry ingredients before adding them to batter (see Like, Baking with Chocolate, Part II on page 175 for more about Dutch process cocoa).

The chocolate you use will depend on how much you want to spend and how discriminating your chocolate tastes are. A good grocery store will have a variety of brands to choose from. One of my co-workers, Julia Redpath Buckley, swears by the Safeway generic brand of chocolate chips. I’m a sucker for Hershey’s extra-dark Dutch process unsweetened cocoa. I like Lindt’s bittersweet bars, but Ghirardelli also makes a kick-ass chocolate.

Chocolate can keep for years. You’ll want to wrap your bars and blocks in aluminum foil and then put them in a zipper-top bag before storing them in a cool, dark place. Why? Because the cocoa butter in chocolate is a whorish sponge, which will pick up the flavor of anything it’s standing with. When you unwrap your chocolate for later use, you might notice a white film. It’s not the creeping crud, it’s that whorish cocoa butter separating from the solids. It’s harmless and will disappear when the chocolate is melted. Also keep your cocoa tightly lidded in that same dark, cool place.

Chocolate is sensitive and needs to be treated gently. Never melt your chocolate over direct heat. Use a double boiler or a bowl that fits into a saucepan filled with simmering water, which you maintain over low heat. You can also preheat an oven to 225 degrees F, set your chocolate in a bowl in the oven, then immediately turn off the oven and wait a few minutes. You can also nuke chocolate in the microwave. Start with 30 seconds on high power. Initially, the chocolate won’t look much different (it might look like a bar of chocolate in a bowl), so you’ll have to use a knife or fork to see if it’s melted. It’s important not to overheat chocolate. Sensitive, remember. And always break your chocolate chunk into smaller pieces before you try to melt it. Let your melted chocolate cool until it’s slightly tepid before adding to other ingredients.

Chocolate Pound Cake

Image

Know some chocoholics? If they’re not in rehab, they’re going to become your very best friends when you bring this baby in. It’s another recipe Momma gave me. I made it for the Morning Edition overnight staff during the month after the 2000 presidential election, when we were still wondering who’d won: Bush or Gore. At 3 A.M., the cake was on the counter. At 3:16 it was gone. The cake would have lasted until 3:20, but Newscast’s Dave Mattingly had five pieces. He said one was for Carl Kasell, but I know that was a lie.

This cake slices thin and can serve between 20 and 32 people.


YOU’LL NEED

A 10-inch tube pan

3 cups all-purpose flour

3 cups sugar

½ cup unsweetened cocoa

1 stick (½ cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup shortening

1¼ cups milk

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

5 large eggs

1. Position a rack so the cake will sit in the middle of the oven and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Line the bottom of your pan with parchment paper and spray the sides and bottom with baking spray.

2. In the bowl of an electric mixer, dry whisk the flour, sugar, and cocoa together.

3. Gradually add the butter, shortening, and milk and beat on medium speed until smooth.

4. Add the baking powder and salt, and beat until incorporated.

5. Still on medium speed, add the vanilla extract and then add the eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition.

6. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 1½ hours, or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

7. Cool the cake in the pan for 10 minutes. Remove the cake from the pan using our rack-over-pan method and flip it onto a plate (see page 28). Continue cooling the cake.

Wait, wait, wait Melissa! In the first part of this book we spent God knows how many brain cells going over how to properly cream butter and sugar and add the dry ingredients, and this recipe doesn’t follow that standard mixing technique! What gives?

It may have something to do with baker’s preference. This recipe will give you a moist, dense cake if you follow the directions as written. I suspect since the baking powder is added later, it has less time to react to the liquid and there is also less beating here (less beating = less air in batter). When I tried the recipe with the standard mixing procedure, I got a lighter, fluffier, and much taller cake, which rose about an inch above the cake pan. A different texture, but the same taste. I prefer it denser, so I go with the original mixing instructions.

If you collect recipes, you’re going to come across a lot that don’t conform to that standard mixing technique. Always follow directions as intended, then experiment with your technique when you’ve muscled up your skills.

Mary Carole Battle’s Mother’s Wacky Cake with Seven-Mlinute Frosting Chocolate Cake With Less Fuss

Speaking of totally different mixing techniques (see the facing page), All Things Considered did a series one year, asking listeners about what foods meant summer to them. Mary Carole Battle of St. Petersburg, Florida, wrote in, saying it wasn’t summer unless a wacky cake was involved. She told us about celebrating her birthday when she was a kid. It’s on August 17, and she would celebrate with a friend who also had a birthday around that time. The friend’s mother would put a fancy, store-bought cake in front of her daughter, and Mary Carole’s mother would put a wacky cake in front of Mary Carole.

Michele Norris interviewed Mary Carole to find out how to make the cake, which involves no butter, no eggs, and no milk. In fact, the Seven-Minute Frosting takes more time to make than the cake!

After the story aired, we were bombarded by more listener e-mail. People wrote in about their wacky cakes, which were called crazy cakes, Joe cakes, and WW II cakes. We were told that this cake, with its dearth of dairy products, was a desperate homemaker’s answer to wartime shortages. Regardless of its real name and origin, it’s a fun and easy cake to do, especially with a competent seven-year-old. And it tastes pretty good!

This cake will serve about 8 to 10, depending on how you slice it.


YOU’LL NEED

A 9-inch square or round baking pan

1½ cups all-purpose flour

1 cup sugar

½ teaspoon salt

¼ cup unsweetened cocoa

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 tablespoon white vinegar

6 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 cup cold water

Seven-Minute Frosting (recipe follows)

1. Center a rack and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray the sides and bottom of the pan with baking spray.

2. In a large mixing bowl, dry whisk the flour, sugar, salt, cocoa, and baking soda together.

3. Make 3 holes, or “wells”, in the dry ingredients. Pour the vanilla extract into one well, the vinegar into a second one, and the oil into the third.

4. Pour the cold water over the mixture, and stir until no longer lumpy. Feel free to use a hand mixer or a pair of Popeye arms (you have been eating your spinach, haven’t you?), which you will need soon for the frosting.

5. Pour the batter into the pan and bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the center comes out clean.

6. Cool the cake in the pan for 10 minutes. Remove the cake from the pan using our plate-over-pan method and flip it onto a cake rack (see page 28). Continue cooling the cake and frost it. Or simply frost the top of the cake and serve in the pan for even less fuss.

Seven-Minute Frosting

This makes enough frosting to heavily ice a 9-inch cake, or the top of a cake baked in a 10-inch tube pan.


YOU’LL NEED

A double boiler, real or improvised (see step 2)

A hand-held electric mixer OR somebody with Popeye arms

2 large eggs, at room temperature

1½ cups sugar

¼ teaspoon cream of tartar

⅓ cup cold water

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Separate the eggs.

2. Mix the egg whites, sugar, cream of tartar, and cold water in the top part of a double boiler, OR in the top of an improvised double boiler: Use a heat-proof bowl that will fit over a pan with about 2 inches of water in it, or a small saucepan that will sit inside of a larger one containing water. Using a hand mixer or Popeye arms, beat the mixture for about 1 minute.

3. Place the top over the bottom half of the double boiler (or place the heat-proof bowl into the pan of water). Bring the water to a gentle boil, and beat the mixture on high speed for 7 minutes, or until you have soft peaks (see page 106).

4. Remove from the heat and add the vanilla. Beat for 1 or 2 minutes more.

5. Cool slightly, then frost away!

NEW TECHNIQUE

SEPARATING EGGS

Oh, there are fancy gadgets out there for separating eggs, and not-so-fancy gadgets, and then there’s the method where you carefully crack your shell in half and use the bottom part to catch the yolk. I use the most stripped-down method of all: my clean, dry, bare hands. It’s amazing how well this works, though it grosses out a competent seven-year-old. It also grosses out some adults. It’s a good party trick to have in your repertoire, trust me.

Image

Have 3 bowls ready: one bowl to catch the individual egg white, one to hold your collection of egg whites, and one for the yolks. Crack an egg against the edge of a bowl, then dump the egg into a cupped hand, catching the yolk and letting the white slip through your fingers into the empty bowl. Then gently slide the egg yolk into the yolk bowl. Next, transfer the egg white into the third bowl: the egg white collection bowl.

Why use a designated bowl for the egg you’re separating? Because it’s crucial NOT to get any yolk mixed in with the egg whites. Suppose you use only two bowls and you’ve separated eight eggs and are about to separate the ninth, only to realize you’ve broken the yolk and it’s now seeping into the collection of egg whites—ACK! You are so screwed. Unless you like really big omelets. But this book is about cakes, not omelets. And egg whites with yolk in them are not going to whip into soft or stiff peaks, and one of those is the stage you need to get them to.

Hmmm. But what to do with all those yolks? Well, there are cakes that are yolk-heavy (Lord Baltimore, page 189), and there are frostings that are also yolk heavy (Lane Cake Filling and Frosting, page 193). Rather than toss my yolks, I freeze them for later use in cakes and frostings. I sprinkle a bit of water over them, and add either a dash of salt or sugar as a preservative. Since I bake on Sundays, I’ll move my frozen yolks to the refrigerator to thaw Friday night, then leave them out for 1 or 2 hours before using them on Sunday.

So many yolks, so few punch lines.

Cocoa Bread with Stewed Yard Peaches


YOU’LL NEED

An 8-inch square or 9-inch round baking pan

FOR THE COCOA BREAD

1 stick (½ cup) unsalted butter

1 cup boiling water

½ cup molasses

½ cup sugar

2 large eggs, lightly beaten

2 cups self-rising flour (see Tip)

½ teaspoon baking soda

¼ cup unsweetened cocoa

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

FOR THE STEWED PEACHES

6 cups sliced peeled peaches (see Tip)

¾ cup sugar

½ cup water

Tips: Do NOT use all-purpose flour without compensating for the substitution—remember your briefing at the beginning of this book (page 34)! If you don’t have self-rising, add 3 teaspoons of baking powder and 1 teaspoon of salt to 2 cups of all-purpose flour, and you should be fine.

If you don’t have fresh peaches, frozen are best. Use two 16-ounce bags. But you can also use canned peaches, so long as you drain the syrup off.

TO MAKE THE COCOA BREAD

1. Center a rack and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray the sides and bottom of your pan with baking spray.

2. On the stove top or in the microwave, melt the butter and set aside to cool.

3. Boil some water and measure out 1 cup.

4. In a large bowl, whisk together the boiling water, melted butter, molasses, and sugar. Let cool, then whisk in the eggs.

5. In a separate bowl, dry whisk the flour, baking soda, unsweetened cocoa, and cinnamon together.

6. Add a third of the flour mixture to the molasses mixture and whisk until smooth. Repeat until all of the flour mixture is blended in.

7. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 30 minutes, or until a toothpick or thin knife inserted in the middle comes out clean. While the cake is baking, stew the peaches.

TO MAKE THE STEWED PEACHES

8. Bring the peaches, sugar, and water to a boil in a medium saucepan over medium heat, stirring gently until the sugar dissolves.

9. Reduce the heat to low and simmer for 10 minutes.

TO SERVE

10. Cool the bread in the pan for 10 minutes, then unmold onto a serving plate and serve warm with the stewed peaches. This can be tricky in the office. I usually wrap the bread in parchment paper and aluminum foil. At work I remove the foil, wrap the cake with dampened paper towels, and microwave at low power to warm it up. If you can’t do that, don’t worry: it’s good cool, too. You can serve the peaches hot, cold, or at room temperature, depending on your fancy (I like them a little cooler than the cake, but they’re good hot, too).

Another great find for me has been Southern Living magazine’s annual recipe books. They’re a little skimpy on the cake recipes, but the ones they do have are something good. This recipe (pictured on page 40), from the 2005 edition, doesn’t require a lot of beating, so you can go lowtech and mix it by hand.

Cocoa bread was a welcome change when my co-workers were getting a little sick of gingerbread. But here’s the thing: If you bring it to work, you have to bring the stewed peaches in a separate container, and leave directions next to the cocoa bread. Otherwise, instead of eating the bread and peaches together, they’ll eat each of them alone. Double the recipe if you want more than 8 servings.