Happy Birthday, Christina's Dad

It's been a while since I featured a guest post, but it was worth the wait. This one is a sweet doozy (yes, more cake) from an old friend and one of my most faithful readers and troubleshooters, Christina.

Hello Second Dinner readers!  Katya lived across the hall from me way back during our freshman year of college . . . and I have lots of fond memories of Katya that involve food.  She baked cookies in the grimy dorm lounge, hosted latke parties every Hanukkah, and spent lots of time talking with me about Vidalia onions and pomegranates.  So I’ve been following her adventures here with interest.

I just entered a period of "funemployment" after three years of long hours at work, and so I’m making up for lost time in the kitchen.  Now, I’m a pretty good cook and an okay amateur baker.  But even though my cakes always taste fine, they look like they were beaten with the ugly stick.  Uneven layers, cracks, crumbs in the frosting – can you say "hot mess"?

Imagine my surprise when I was able to produce the following for my dad’s birthday.

For the first time ever, I managed to bake a cake with a lovely shiny coat of frosting and no messy crumbs poking through!  I was so ecstatic that I had to share my good news with Katya, who kindly offered to display my efforts here. 

I followed the chocolate layer cake recipe featured at Smitten Kitchen (using the adaptations for 9-inch cake pans) and it baked up like a dream.  The layers were nice and even, and super-moist.  I made sure to thunk the pans on the counter a few times before baking as per the tips over at SK.

Things always go awry for me once it comes time to frost, probably due to my lack of patience.  I’m bad at crumb coats and always have trouble spreading buttercream without ripping off layers of crumbs and getting them scattered all over the place.  So, this time, I made sure to bake the cake the day before my dad’s birthday in hopes that the layers would be easier to work with at frosting time.  I cooled the layers completely before wrapping them in plastic wrap and then left them in the fridge for 24 hours.  I also decided to try a chocolate sour cream frosting (again featured at Smitten Kitchen) in hopes that I would find it more amenable to spreading. Well, it worked like a charm.  Frosting this cake was practically effortless since the frosting was so light and easy to work with.  Nary a crumb peeked through AND it was absolutely delicious.

My dad loved the cake and thought it tasted even better on day two than on the day it was cut.  I think the taste of the sour cream kind of mellowed out a little and melded better with the cake layers.  But the best thing about this cake is that it has magical properties.  We were able to keep this cake under a dome in the fridge for TWO weeks with no signs of it going bad or getting a stale taste.  (My mom can’t eat chocolate and I am limiting my consumption of sweets, so there was a lot of cake left for my dad to tackle.)  This is the everlasting gobstopper of birthday cakes!

Many thanks to Katya for letting me guest blog and share my cake-baking excitement.  At her urging, and with some trepidation, I will attempt pane genzanese next! continue...

Tuesdays with Dorie: Chocolate Caramel Chestnut Cake

I must have really been missing elaborate cakes. Although if you asked me, I'd almost surely tell you that I love crispy, buttery, nutty desserts, cream and fruit over chocolate, and pies over cakes, somehow when it was my turn to pick the week's Tuesdays with Dorie recipe, I went all out. I picked the Chocolate Caramel Chestnut Cake, a three-layer extravaganza filled with chopped nuts and buttery ganache, and then covered in more chocolate glaze. No joke.

The magic word, of course, was chestnuts. No one, not even, I dare to say, an Appalachian farmer living through the winter on them before the blight, could love chestnuts more than I do. I love everything about them, from their hokey homey-ness, their association with fires and hot cider, and their sweet, firm, and slightly dry roasted selves. I love them from street vendors and hot out of the oven. I adore them with brussels sprouts and dream of them in stuffing. Chestnuts are it.

Cake? What cake?
Oh, this one.

As many TWD participants mentioned, this was an extravagant and expensive cake. Over a pound of butter, a pint of cream, and nearly a pound and a half of various chocolates, not to mention the chestnut paste and chopped chestnuts. This was a CAKE. Just thinking about it makes me feel awed and giggly.

It was also a two-day affair. (Some, like the Engineer Baker, made it a one-day affair by skipping out on all the trimmings. As you can see, she was pleased enough by the cake plain and simple. This may be me next time--I'll be making truffles out of my ganache if nobody minds.)

It began with ganache--a stovetop caramel, lightened with cream, flavored with milk and dark chocolates, and thickened with butter. That went into the refrigerator, and on to the cake.
The cake was a butter cake, creamed and sugared, with the addition of a cup of sweetened chestnut paste, and lightened with beaten egg whites. I made mine in a 2"x8" pan and found it filled it nicely, although because the pan was smaller and taller than recommended, it took nearly 45 minutes longer to cook. The cake, wrapped well, went into the refrigerator with the ganache.

Two days later, assembly. Cake was sliced into three layers, and trimmed and leveled to perfection. Each layer was brushed with a syrup of Campari and sugar. Following the syrup, a full cup of ganache was luxuriantly spread over each layer, followed by chopped almonds--(it was supposed to be chopped chestnuts, but the chestnuts at the corner bodega were clearly from last year, dry, hard, and sadly, moldy.  I was able to salvage a few for decoration, but the almonds had to do last minute duty. Next time.)

The remaining ganache iced the cake, and then...wait for it...I poured a dark chocolate glaze over that. In the final slices, it was beautiful to see the two layers of color in the chocolate icing. This was serious cake. I had intended to freeze it and present it to my family for Thanksgiving, as I won't be there with them, but there was a more immediate need, and off the cake went to load-in for Granada, my theater company's new play, where dusty and exhausted producers and crew were able to add some richly-deserved chocolatey smears to their talented faces.

Here is the recipe, adapted from its appearance in Bon Appetit in 2005.

Chocolate-Caramel Cake with Gold-Dusted Chestnuts
by Dorie Greenspan

Ingredients:
Caramel ganache
9 ounces high-quality milk chocolate (such as Lindt or Perugina)
3 ounces bittersweet (not unsweetened) or semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
6 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons water
1 cinnamon stick
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons heavy whipping cream
1/4 teaspoon salt

1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (21/4 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

Cake:
2 cups cake flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/4 cups (packed) golden brown sugar, divided
4 large eggs, separated
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup sweetened chestnut spread with vanilla (or several cooked chestnuts spun in the processor with some vanilla and sugar)
1/4 cup whole milk

Brandy syrup
1/4 cup brandy
2 tablespoons golden brown sugar
24 jarred peeled whole chestnuts; 12 coarsely chopped, 12 left whole (about 7.25 ounces)

Glaze
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup water
8 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, chopped
Edible gold dust (optional)

Preparation
For ganache:

Combine milk chocolate and bittersweet chocolate in medium bowl. Stir sugar, 2 tablespoons water, and cinnamon stick in heavy medium saucepan over medium-low heat until sugar dissolves. Increase heat and boil without stirring until syrup turns deep amber, occasionally brushing down sides of pan with wet pastry brush and swirling pan, about 6 minutes (time will vary depending on size of pan). Add cream and salt (mixture will bubble vigorously). Bring caramel to boil, whisking until smooth and caramel bits dissolve, about 1 minute. Discard cinnamon stick. Pour hot caramel over chocolate; stir until chocolate is melted and mixture is smooth. Let stand until completely cool, stirring occasionally, about 1 hour.

Using electric mixer, beat butter in large bowl until fluffy. Beat in chocolate mixture in 4 additions. Cover and refrigerate ganache overnight.

For cake:

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour 9x9x2-inch metal baking pan. Line bottom of pan with parchment paper. Sift flour, baking powder, and salt into medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat butter in large bowl until fluffy. Beat in 1 cup brown sugar, then egg yolks and vanilla extract. Beat in chestnut spread, then milk. Sift dry ingredients over and gently mix together. Using clean dry beaters, beat egg whites in another large bowl until soft peaks form. Add remaining 1/4 cup brown sugar and beat until stiff but not dry. Fold egg whites into batter in 3 additions.

Transfer batter to pan. Bake cake until golden and tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 48 minutes. Cut around cake to loosen. Cool cake completely in pan on rack.

For syrup:

Stir brandy and brown sugar in small bowl until sugar dissolves.

To assemble: 
Turn cake out onto work surface. Peel off parchment. Using long serrated knife, cut cake horizontally into 3 equal layers. Place 1 cake layer, cut side up, on 8x8-inch cardboard square. Brush cake layer with half of brandy syrup. Spread with 1 cup ganache (ganache may needs some time out of the refrigerator first to become spreadable--KS). Sprinkle with half of chopped chestnuts. Top with second cake layer, cut side up. Repeat with remaining brandy syrup, 1 cup ganache, and remaining chopped chestnuts. Top with remaining cake layer, cut side up. Spread remaining ganache over top and sides of cake. Place cake rack on sheet of foil; place assembled cake on rack. Chill while preparing glaze.

For glaze:
Bring cream, sugar, and 1/4 cup water to boil in heavy medium saucepan, stirring until sugar dissolves. Add chocolate and whisk until melted and glaze is smooth. Let cool until thick but still pourable, about 4 hours (it only took mine about 10 minutes-KS).

Pour glaze atop cake, spreading evenly over sides. Chill until glaze sets.

Brush 12 whole chestnuts with gold dust. Arrange chestnuts across top of cake. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover with cake dome and refrigerate. Let cake stand at least 4 hours and up to 8 hours at room temperature.) Serve cake at room temperature.
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BBA Update: Kaiser Rolls and Marble Rye

I've been holding off posting some recent Bread Bakers Apprentice breads that I've made, because I got a little out of order, but I decided that out of order is better than just sitting on the photos forever--and losing some. I made Reinhart's Kaiser Roll recipe over a month ago, and was really happy with the light, loose, flaky crumb of the final rolls. I somehow failed to save any pictures, though, so you'll have to imagine those until next time.

I did manage to get a few shots of my attempt at Marbled Rye Bread. Here it is, posing with my new toy, a left-handed slicer. I bought the slicer at a tag sale in Park Slope a few weeks ago, eliciting cheers from the crew running the tag sale. The slicer, they said, had been their long shot, almost a joke...i.e...''we'll know we're brilliant salesmen if someone buys that."Although I own a perfectly good serrated knife, I was tempted by the slicer's elegant wooden handle and by the giveaway price, and I bought it.

The rye bread was wonderful, and I'm looking forward to making it again next time I get my hands on some rye flour.

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Tuesdays with Dorie: Chocolate-Craisin Brownie Un-torte

Sometimes I get a little ahead of myself with Tuesdays with Dorie. I do weird things like bake all the recipes for a month the week that they are announced. While this could be looked on as admirable on-top-of-it-ness, it has a down side. The side where I burn out a bit,  and concentrate less on individual dishes. I have it on good authority that my TWD tone has been getting a little flippant. While it's true that anything I do weekly is going to be treated with a little less reverence than once in a lifetime achievements (and isn't that the point of this self-guided baking course?), I do want to do justice to the TWD baking projects, to write thoughtfully, take lovely pictures (hopefully with more step by step footage), and contextualize the posts in the larger TWD universe.

I will continue to substitute ingredients and to play with recipes. Why, after all, does the book have the ubiquitous 'playing around' insert? By and large, TWD is to be part of my weekly routine, and as such, it usually has to fit into my weekly schedule, budget, and supplies. I don't freak out if a recipe goes awry, and I don't twist myself into knots following rules.

But, and this is the point, I do care about what I make, and to re-orient myself to my writing and photography goals, I seized the day when it was my turn to select a recipe, and picked one of the book's most rich, and intricate recipes. The reveal will come next week, but be assured that the pick has already garnered both whines and cheers, ingredient consternation, and general hysteria on the TWD blog. Which of course amuses me no end. What those of you who commented on my 'TWD tone of snark' may not realize is that there is a whole little TWD community chat and comment thread that goes on weekly at www.TuesdayswithDorie.com, and that by the time I come to post about a recipe, I have already seen quite a bit of discussion about problems, questions, substitutions, failures and successes, and so the posts that I post are often positioned in inadvertent relation to that discussion. Some of it leaks into the comments on this site as well, as some of you who know me from non-TWD contexts have noticed. While I'm bemused by the occasional 'buck-up' comment when I haven't expressed self-doubt or dissatisfaction, I generally appreciate the support very much.Sometimes I'm annoyed, sometimes intrigued, often amused, and all of that comes into my commentary on the sweets as well.
For instance, this brownie un-torte. It was going to be a fudge-y brownie filled with kirsch-plumped cherries, topped with a mascarpone cream. It wound up more like a gooey (so gooey it had to be twice-baked) brownie-cake with Campari-plumped-orange-scented craisins, that never quite got topped. It just never quite made it. But, like anything with so much chocolate and orange flavor, it was good. continue...

Tuesdays with Dorie: Sweet Potato Biscuits

Ooooh, these should have been mine. Thank you Erin of Prudence Pennywise, for getting to them first so that I didn't have to wait. Basic biscuits with a touch of nutmeg, a glop of sweet potato puree, and no one in this house could stop eating them. Those who live nearby (especially in the house) will remember my obsession with Orangette's Sweet Potato Pound Cake. Sweet potato and nutmeg are pretty much my ideal flavor combination. These have the added advantage of speed and sandwich capability. Here's Matt's--turkey, apple butter, cornichons, and dijon mustard. continue...

Well Provided

Thursday was a cold, wet, and dismal day. The kind of day where I take a train all the way to midtown and then fail to complete an errand because I can't bear the five block walk from the train through the tourists. It was also the kind of day that lets me know just how much I am loved.

First, a new neighbor came over for pie. Just stopped over, had some coffee, chatted, and took some pie. Could it be that Brooklyn is finally becoming, at least in part, the drop-in culture I dream of? Probably not, but it's a step in the right direction.



Then, I got to have dinner with Jill. Jill has known me for roughly eighteen years, and loved me for roughly thirteen of those. I don't grudge the first five, because the rest has been so good. Over the years,
Jill has pushed me, praised me to the skies, yelled at me, yelled with me, sung with me, done for me, and even lived with me.  Through it all, she has loved me, and she tells me so after every time I see her. I love her too, and am always grateful for her talent, her questions, and her constant loyalty, memory, and curiosity.

 After dinner, I came home wet and freezing to one more good thing. I knew that Matt had just had surprise oral surgery, so I wasn't expecting much in the way of conversation even, much less presents. But a large brown box was waiting for me in the hallway, with CSA vegetables on top and something even better on the bottom.

Last week, I posted about my ever-growing and obsessive desire for produce in large quantities. I wrote about it as a hunger for the more rural landscape of my childhood, as a desire for more than enough, for fullness and safety. Stacey has confessed on more than one occasion that she has a similar relationship with squash. Too many squash in the house, she admits, gives her a feeling of safety. Every time I go to the farmer's market, I think about all the security those tables and tables of multi-colored squash could give, and sometimes I get her a little one for a present. Sometimes I get one for myself as well.

Clearly, my loved ones took that post to heart, or just knew it well already. I got an email from my mother the other day telling me that she was blackening her hands cracking black walnuts for me (what black walnuts? from where? had we discussed this or did she just assume (rightly) that I would want any black walnuts upon which she stumbled?). And Matt, when he showed at the end of CSA pickup swollen and craving soft foods, knew me well enough that when the site coordinator told him to take all the apples he wanted, he took the whole box, and carried it proudly home for me. I danced around and couldn't stop exclaiming for hours. He knows me, this man, and he loves me. And he's a good provider. A whole cellar of squash couldn't make me feel so warm inside.

As for the outside, I think I definitely need some new boots and slippers. So I can shuffle around the house making apple butter, of course. continue...

Tuesdays with Dorie: Allspice Crumb Muffins

One of the great things about Tuesdays with Dorie is that it, like the book, is pleasantly inconsistent. Recipes vary from complicated to barely noticeable in terms of effort, tastes vary from rich chocolate to gentle almond or coconut. Some weeks it's three layer cake, some weeks it's streusel muffins or cup custard. Some weeks I carefully create a dessert, some weeks I off-handedly throw some things in a bowl. As long as I don't take it too seriously, TWD is endlessly adaptable to my moods, ingredient stock, and time constraints. And I don't take it too seriously--after all, my goal is a familiar and easy working familiarity with Dorie Greenspan's repertoire and style. This isn't a pastry class, and it isn't a contest. Sometimes I plate, sometimes I gobble. Sometimes I leave off toppings. But slowly and happily, my understanding of the pastry world grows and deepens, and Dorie-in-the-book and I have developed a good working relationship.

She likes cute names and creamy toppings a bit more than I do. But she also knows a lot more about the wonders of sables and pudding than I ever dreamed. And sometimes all that mascarpone really makes it. The chance to gently absorb the work of this woman who has helped the world absorb the work of so many others is always interesting.

This week was one of those stick it in the bowl, figure it will be fine, weeks. And it was. And Matt liked both these buttery beasts of Allspice Crumb Muffins and the fat-free, oat bran heavy, apple muffins from the new Moosewood cookbook equally. My streusel wasn't all that crumbly, but I attribute that to general lack of paying much attention to what I was doing, and to quartering the recipe.

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