Egg-less Chocolate cake

There were times when I was pregnant with Belle, when I was alone in the house and all was still outside. I would lie down on the couch hands cupped around my hard belly. I would breathe in and out as purposeful as possible. I would wait and attempt patience. And, I would wonder who this little person would be.

Then with a wallop, Belle would kick with all her might at anything in her way with an impressive lack of rhythm. Then, she would gurgle and swim casually brushing her hands across my belly in broad gestures.


Four years later, I wished I had written down who I thought that little person was. I am fairly certain whatever I thought was nothing like the true Belle. She has a finely attuned design sense. She would have you know, stripes work well with hearts but not polka dots, and not all pinks match. She loves all things dolly—prams, changing tables, and bottles. But at the same time she can build a mean tower. Mostly, she reminds me every day how important observation and curiosity are in feeding the human soul. She smells everything from food to scarves. She wonders about clouds, snow, heaven and God.

Every day is an investigation for her. Dessert is one of her particular specialties. Why is it that some cakes aren’t chocolate? Why is it that some cakes are deficient in frosting? Why are some cakes only one layer?

Belle’s love of chocolate is something that I anticipated bodily during pregnancy. I was not much of a sweet person until Belle resided within me. During my pregnancy, I would fanaticize about decadent chocolate cupcakes. Now, Belle is a woman who relishes the idea of visiting her grandparents, in the magical land of Cincinnati, where cupcakes are alright for breakfast.

This summer we experimented with the ideal chocolate cake. While I have more experience tasting chocolate cake, I think Belle has a natural insight. We make an ideal team. We tasted cakes. I talked, perhaps idly, about the required a balance between sweetness and bitterness; moistness and denseness. Though, Belle really summed it up, “it has to be super chocolate and good.”



Our first try at this cake was one that was basically a large brownie. When topped with cocoa butter cream, Belle was very satisfied.

When birthday time came around yesterday, I turned to this cake. Parenting is something that is harder when you pay attention to what you are doing. I probably should have just made the cake that she liked, but instead I decided to increase the buttermilk so that I would have a moister cake-like result. After all, sometimes a mother has to make decisions for their children.

I also decided to use three frostings, because sometimes a mother gets to break the rules. First I separated the two layers with marshmallow butter cream , added a crumb coat and then some with vanilla butter cream, and then frosted with cocoa-cream cheese butter cream. The result was a cake that would make your dentist call you to set up an appointment.


As we cut the cake, I waited to hear her observations. She sat down to her slice with almost religious fervor. She eschewed the paper napkin so that she might lick the frosting from her fingers. She then requested seconds and thirds (though both requests were denied.) And, then she played.

In the last four years, one of the few things I have learned about parenting is that often it is the quiet off-minutes, when socks are being pulled up or blocks being picked up that your children share. Today, when the house was quiet, and Belle and I were cleaning up her room, she said to me, “There was much more frosting on that cake. I am glad.”




Recipe:
Chocolate Cake:
Cream together:
4 oz cream cheese, softened
4 T butter, softened
1 3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar

In the microwave, melt 1/4 cup chocolate chips (or a little more)

Into the bowl of the stand mixer, add:
1 cup buttermilk
1 T instant coffee granules
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tsp cider vinger
melted chocolate chips

In a bowl, combine:
1 3/4 cup flour
3/4 cup cocoa
1 1/2 t baking powder
1 1/2 t baking soda
1 tsp salt

Add dry ingredients to wet, in 1/2 cup intervals, blending as you go.

Bake in 2-9 inch pans that have been greased and floured (or cocoaed) at 350 for 25-30 minutes.

Frostings:
I got a little mystical/ alchemistry-like with the frostings, so no recipes here…all I can say is that for the cream cheese frosting, I used 4 oz butter (soften), 4 oz cream cheese (softened), splash of coffee, and then added cocoa and powdered sugar with wild abandon. The others were a little of a blur.

Bad Weather Cupcakes

It’s a snow day. Every snow day my mother in law made a particular sugar laden cake. Why would a woman with 4 kids would want to hype up her children when they were trapped at home? Well, at least here, have devoured the cupcakes, danced a jig, and tore up the house, they settled into a nice nap. Maybe she was onto something.

Snow day Cupcakes
My mother in laws recipe with my changes in parentheses
1.5 cups bisquick (or 1.5 cups flour, 1 1/2tsp Baking Powder, 1/2tsp Salt)
2/3 cup milk (or eggnog)
½ cup sugar, feel free to be heavy handed
2 egg whites
2 T oil (plus 1 T more oil)
1 tsp vanilla

Topping
1/3 cup brown sugar
2 T chopped nuts (optional)
1 T butter
1 T milk

Beat all the cupcake ingredients at low for 30 seconds. Then beat at medium for 1 minute. Spoon into lined cupcake tins. Bake at 350 for 18-20 minutes.

Mix all the topping ingredients. Top the warm cupcakes. Broil for 2 minutes with the cake 3 inches from the coil.

Gluten Free Carrot Candied Orange Madeleines

Someone once told me, “You know, writing is like riding a horse.” They stopped there. Now, I am starting to wonder. Was it because if you rode once you can ride again and similarly if you strung together sentences before you will again? Or was it because riding a horse, and writing similarly, takes practice but the practice is well worth it? Or was it because riding a horse, and writing as well, can be a terrible pain in the behind?

I would like to believe the answer to all three of those questions is yes. I am starting to believe most things take practice and are often a pain, though once learned are so familiar they can never be forgotten.

After a frustrating week when the skies have chosen to offer inclemency of some kind, I find myself itching to have a quiet minute in the kitchen. I don’t mean event-cooking or dinner making. I mean quiet mixing chopping joy; the kind of cooking where you don’t need to look up the recipe or pull out a scale. You just drop that measuring cup into the flour, feel the smoothness of the ingredient, and then satisfied sweep the knife over the cup. Chopping, whisking, moving. Then you bite into your creation and remember, hey, I can cook. Maybe cooking is like writing—oh, I mean like riding a horse.



Recipe:
Gluten Free Carrot Candied Orange Madeleines
Based on a recipe by Seattle Local Food
Melt ½ a stick of butter. Let brown. Strain and cool.

In a large bowl, beat together:
4 eggs
1 tsp vanilla

Add:
¼ cup grated carrots
2 T candied orange peels, chopped
1 T candied ginger, chopped (optional)

In a separate bowl, mix together:
½ cup GF mix
½ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp xantham gum
1 tsp ginger powder
½ tsp Chinese 5 spice
½ tsp cinnamon
2 T brown sugar

Mix dry into wet. Add butter.

Let sit for 5 minutes. And then pour batter (it is wet) into greased Madeleine pans. Bake 8 minutes at 350. This makes about 60 mini-madeleines.

Cheddar Cheese Apple Mini Pies

Belle seems to dislike the number 14. I am not quite sure what it did to her. She is plenty enamored with 4. And, that 10 is a good round number is something upon which we can all agree. But, 14 is turning into a bit of a bother. Fifteen through twenty are really a breeze. And, anything up to 13 are so easy they aren’t worth discussing.

What does a mother do? Well, honestly, first there is a little worry. If you don’t, more power to you. Worry, then admitting to it, and then moving on is what makes me human (that and a couple of other things including the fact that I bore children.) The next step for some of my parenting woes usually springs from some strange “call in the troops” mentality. Strange because I barely remember what ROTC stands for and look terrible in khaki; but more importantly because metaphorically screaming “charge” is really the worst sentiment when it comes to dealing with your children. In this case, I attacked with colorful books and rote memorization. This tact was actually quite fruitful—it saved me from my gung-ho tendencies for a little while. Belle must have been relieved when I gave the whole number thing a rest. For a little while I suggested she just count to ten, and then go back to one. I went back to being my less crazy self.

Life ramped up. I made 300 mini-pies for a wedding reception. When we stood at the counter packing up my cheddar cheese apple pies, my Belle told me “Mommy, you already have four-teen pies in the box. Can I eat one?”

“Sure,” I said, in a voice that was just below a cheer.

“Well, now that I put another pie in the box, can you count them?” I asked.

“Now I only get to fourteen.”


for the apple cheddar pie recipe go to epicurious--but add chinese 5 spice, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ground star anise

Daring Bakers Petits Fours

The August 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Elissa of 17 and Baking. For the first time, The Daring Bakers partnered with Sugar High Fridays for a co-event and Elissa was the gracious hostess of both. Using the theme of beurre noisette, or browned butter, Elissa chose to challenge Daring Bakers to make a pound cake to be used in either a Baked Alaska or in Ice Cream Petit Fours. The sources for Elissa’s challenge were Gourmet magazine and David Lebovitz’s “The Perfect Scoop”.

I have been a bad little daring baker. Stop it you, this is a food blog, keep your mind on topic.

I haven’t been altogether following the DB rules. There are some that I have been following very well. So, let’s try doing a little keep/ change analysis on my Daring Bakers technique.

On the first of the month, I forget that I am a daring baker—Change.

On the 13th, I think , “Oh darn, right, I forgot was giddy with excitement about the next recipe. I was planning to be on time. I was.” So I go into the forum, read the challenge and run off to buy the ingredients.—Keep

Around the 15th of the month, I wonder what other DB gals (and guys, but I don’t really know many bloggy guys) are doing. But, I keep mum cause that’s a secret society works.—Keep and change (Be secret, good. Don’t communicate and foster community in the Daring Bakers forum, bad.)

On the 17th or so, I start planning my entry. I think about how to change this recipe up, make it my own. Then I think about what personal event I could take my challenge recipe to, because there nothing is worse than having one of those sugar-laden DB challenges lurking, smirking at you from your counter.—Keep (sharing is always nice.)

On the 24th or so, I get the challenge done. I take a few pictures. I have done every challenge for 2010. I mean every one. And, I think I have posted just one. Sure, these days there is no more setting up the shot, making two different versions, attempting to really outshine. But at least I finish the challenge.—Keep. (Daring Bakers might be a challenge but not a competition. Just get it done.)

On the 27th of the month, I completely forget to post. I usually realize I have forgotten on the 26th when those Aussie posts show up in my reader. I know it is just the international date line and all, but those Aussies start to strike me as overachievers. I usually make a half-hearted attempt to start a post. But then a child breaks out of their room or a work email comes, and I am off the DB momentum.—Change (Really, jealous of the date line, what is wrong with you.)

On the 30th of the month, I start getting giddy about the next challenge. I imagine I will get it all right next month.—Keep. (We all need things to look forward to in life.)

And, so, the cycle continues.

I have actually completely all the challenges since January. I just haven’t posted and now I have even lost some of the pictures, but here are a couple I could find. Here is what I missed from 2010:


Nainamo Bars--delicious. gluten free graham crackers--right on. serving them for a just 3 years olds play date--adorable. pictures--gone.


Lady fingers--a breeze. Homemade tiramisu heavy on the liquer--yes siree bob. Pictures--alas, bye bye.

March--Orange Tian (posted, must have been a good month, can't remember it, but it must have been.

April--Steamed pudding--okay fine. Actually thought I posted, then apparently didn't. HMN. Pictures bye bye.

May--Croquemboche (did pretty good on this one, check out the tiny ones)





June--Chocolate Pavolva--good enough, camera ready dessert. Turn them pavs into tiny cookies--brilliant.

July--Swiss Roll--sweet yummy. Chocolate, Mango, Ohio Blueberry swiss roll--great birthday cake. Pictures--who knows where they are.

August--here we are. Browned butter pound cake, chocolate ice cream petit fours for breakfast on the first day of preschool--Good mommy.

Vietnamese Coffee Cheesecake Bars

Last year at this time, I was very hungry.

I was near the end of a difficult pregnancy. In over 8 months, there was not a single day when the nausea did not overwhelm every other feeling. Eating only meant that I would get sick. I basically lived on IVs, iron infusions, and potato chips.

My husband was in the midst of a busy season at work, so my Dad or Mom would drop me off for my two weeks of iron infusions. Since I didn’t leave the house much, I tried to make the most of this daily outing. I used to try to think of it as a Sunday drive, but with needles and weigh-ins.


In general, the experience made me very hopeful. I would sit alongside chemo patients waiting for my treatment. As it went, I was damn lucky. My body doesn’t enjoy pregnancy particularly, but I still did end up with babies. The people sitting alongside me had tumors. Really—no comparison.

Thinking about food would send me to the restroom. That is except Vietnamese iced coffee.

I would say in general I enjoy VIC quite a lot. I wouldn’t go so far as to use the term love. For hot chai, I might use the terms love, need, life blood. So, some sort of strange desire overtook me. I would sit in the chair, chewing on ice chips, fantasizing about iced coffee. In a strange way, it became a sort of benchmark. Someday I would get to consume iced coffee again; one day my body wouldn’t fight food.

And like all good stories, there was a happy ending. I had Tigerlily then like that my body was fine. I wasn’t sick ever. I could eat anything. I could drink Vietnamese iced coffee.

Recipe:
Vietnamese Iced Coffee Bars
Based on a recipe by Smitten Kitchen
Cheesecake:
Line an 8 inch square baking pan with parchment paper.

In a food processor or in a Ziploc bag with a rolling pin crush:
graham crackers and wafer cookies to get about 1 cup

Combine cookies in a bowl with 3 tablespoons olive oil. Pack evenly at the bottom of the baking pan.

Bake at 350 for 10 minutes.

In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, blend:
12 ozs softened cream cheese
3 eggs
2 T corn starch
1 can condensed milk
2 tsp cinnamon
3/8 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla

Brew some Vietnamese coffee very strong. (Vietnamese coffee can be bought at Asian grocery stores.)

Put 2 tsps of gelatin into ¼ cup coffee.

Once the coffee is gelled add to the mixer. Mix for 5 minutes.

Pour mixture over the crust. Bake for 40 minutes at 350 degrees.

Chill 6 hrs.

Glaze:
When the cheesecake is chilling, make the glaze by heating a second can of condensed milk until simmer. Then add 1 tsp gelatin, and let sit for 2 minutes. Pour glaze over the cheesecake. Chill again for 2-3 hrs.

I am sending this over to Sugar High Fridays hosted by The Well-Seasoned Cook and created by Jennifer of The Domestic Goddess.

Croquemboche

This one is in honor of the three soon to be married girls in our lives. Married life is comforting and confounding.

We hope every happiness and joy to all of you for so many years to come that we all lose count. And, we promise not to embarrass you at your weddings—after that all bets are off.

We made a few small regular ones with caramel cream and chocolate hearts. And then we made one very tiny chocolate one (1.25 inches tall) for Belle's dollhouse .














( The May 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Cat of Little Miss Cupcake. Cat challenged everyone to make a piece montée, or croquembouche, based on recipes from Peter Kump’s Baking School in Manhattan and Nick Malgieri. )

Daring Bakers make Orange Tian

Or wherein I turned the fancy Orange Tian into a good ole Icebox Creamscicle Pie.



The Tian was a breezy late winter dessert. All the components of the dessert were old standards in our kitchen—homemade marmalade, supremes of orange, pate sable, and of course whipped cream. I made all the components late in the night, the general baking season for the working mom. It wasn’t until I plated the dessert up that I realized my error. The result looked fairly appealing, but something was off. In the sample photo, the orange slices were plump and lovely. Those that topped my tart had were, well, frozen solid.




The source of the confusion was quite clear. I read the recipe as carefully as someone can when they are hearing the hokey pokey sung sotto voce, though persistently, in their ear. Somehow I missed the line that said, “Freeze 10 minutes to set.” With a little spin, the folly with the said of some meringues became a nostalgia fueled success.

The 2010 March Daring Baker’s challenge was hosted by Jennifer of Chocolate Shavings. She chose Orange Tian as the challenge for this month, a dessert based on a recipe from Alain Ducasse’s Cooking School in Paris.

Vegan Pumpkin Pie

Thankfully, I know the secret to a good marriage. Learn something new about your spouse everyday, a ladies magazine extolled.

Putting this into practice has proven slightly difficult. My husband and I spend a great deal of time together. We share a room. (I realize that most couples do that.) We eat most meals together (Still not ahead on the togetherness scale, you say?) We carpool. (So?) We work together--our desks are side by side. Given all this quality time, it can be hard to learn something new everyday.



So, those days when I learn something new about J are red letter ones indeed.
When I was on maternity leave, I would lie in wait for him. I ached to speak to an adult and to wash away the banalities of the day with conversation. My husband on the other hand wanted quiet after spending the greater part of the day attempting to engage others, often teenagers. Our conversations would have a sort of jetlag quality. After the girls went to bed, I would start fast sharing all about my day,interesting tidbits from NPR, things I read here or there, ideas for recipes. When I was well into the second or third topic, J would finally pick on on the first.



It was on one of these nights that we had our strangest argument to date. I started with an interesting way to make a whole thanksgiving dinner in one oven at once, vegan pies for my daughter’s friend with food allergies, and then something from NPR about the election issues. At the last point, J looked up from his magazine. He eyes widened. The charming green of his eyes looked uncharacteristically cold. He wasn’t smiling. I rarely speak about politics. Casual conversation about political issues only serves to disquiet me. So, I braced myself for a rant about whatever issue. But, instead, J began to discuss pies with a strange earnestness.



Apparently, that evening we would be fighting about pumpkin pie. Like a high school debater, I took up the con only to improve my skills. Sacred tradition, silly obsession with lilliputian proportions, hocus pocus and weird ingredients were all uttered; I finally countered with the lowest blow—but the poor little boy has never had pumpkin pie. And, like all good marital arguments, this one ended with laughter. J had somehow missed why I wanted to make allergy-free pies. And, he wasn’t interested in denying a boy his pie.

Later I asked J why he had been so belligerent. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about pumpkin pie, I said. Neither did I, he replied.

Vegan Pumpkin Pielets or Pies if you prefer

Macaron Macaron Macaron Macaron Macaron .....

I thought about writing a post about the feeling of utter failure I felt late one Thursday night when 2 egg whites mingled with powdered sugar only to become dry cracked lumps in my oven—feetless lumps.


I thought about writing a post about the strange feeling of drive that was then fostered in my brain to tame this darn recipe.

I thought about writing a post about how I went on to have two more failures.

I thought about writing a post about how success finally occurred and that I have no idea how.

I thought about describing that moment when I anxiously turned on the oven light to see those tiny feet; about how I danced right there in the dark of the night kitchen; about the shriek of glee I let out; about my husband’s surprise.

I thought about writing about how by using Helen of Tartelette’s recipe for macarons from Desserts Magazine that I finally found joy in making these French delicacies.

I thought about writing about getting so at ease with the prospect that I made them with a 2 year old (soon to be three she would like me to inform you.)

I thought about telling you how fun blanching almonds can be (a pinch of the thumb and pointer finger makes them into projectiles.)


I thought about giving you the rundown of my flavors:
Pumpkin Spice with Pumpkin/Pale ale cream cheese frosting (I follow Helen's advice of drying pumpkin in the oven (oh if i had a dehydrator) and then making a powder of it. These smelled heavenly when baking.)
Green Tea with Ganache
Mint Tea with Pumpkin/ pale ale cream cheese frosting
Pink Peppercorn spice with ganache
Nanami Togarashi spice with ganache
Roibos with Ganache
Rose Hip tea with guess what ganache

I thought about telling you that shifting sugar with a child under 4 is messy business (and that you shouldn’t laugh when they climb down to the floor to lick the lost powdered sugar.) I thought about telling you that in that instance you accept a lumpy shell.


I thought about telling you how I got a little punchy with my flavors and made cinnamon with almond pumpkin butter macarons as well as smores--cinnamon with a charred marshmallow and then dipped in chocolate.




I thought about telling you how I turned them into Halloween cookies and how my husband said I turned the delicacy and beauty of France into something kinda wrong but right at the same time.

But, what’s the point in telling you any of this when I have pictures.

And for those of you who are wondering what the heck I am not talking about, it is Daring Baker day of course. The 2009 October Daring Bakers’ challenge was brought to us by Ami S. She chose macarons from Claudia Fleming’s The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern as the challenge recipe.

Kobocha Squash Naan

I have been trying to write my final post for #eaton30 since last night. (Confused, go to @runningwithtweezers to learn more.)

I wanted to write something poetic but the truth is just too ugly. Here it is plain and simple—I am damn thankful that I don’t have to choose between feeding myself and my daughter, that I always have food in my pantry, that I have never worried about where my next meal will come from. I can't imagine what it is like to look into your child's eyes and tell her there is nothing to eat. I can't imagine how hard you must need to hold them against you when their bellies are growling in hunger. And, it is a cruel injustice in this world that some of us are lucky enough to get to spend time elevating food to joy and extravagance while some don’t even get to use it for sustenance. With the jobless recovery, it will be a long winter in America (globally too); consider donating to your local food bank.

If you are dying to know how we did with the challenge, we ended up $8 under budget but because we had dinner with family Friday and Saturday for free. I thought I would leave you with what we did with the last of our homemade yogurt and kobocha squash.



Recipe
Kobocha Squash and Potato Naan:
Serve warm with some curry like or top with potato baaji, some achar, tomato paste, an egg, and cheddar cheese to make a perfect brunch dish.

In a stand mixer with a hook attachment add:
4 cups flour
1 cup mashed squash
1/4 cup potato

2 t yeast (my husband says we could have done 1.5 t, you decide.)
1 t sugar
1 t salt
2 T yogurt
1/4 cup water
2 T oil

Knead well.

Let rest 3 hours. Punch down. Split into 6-8 equal sections, pull into thin oblong pieces. Bake one by one for 2.5 minutes on a pizza stone that has been heated to 550 F. (We preheated the oven to 550 for 1/2 hour.)

This is my entry for yeastspotting from Wild Yeast.

Beet and Spinach Bread

Once there was a girl
Nay a princess, with hair in many a curl
Whose love of bread was so great
All her mamma made would get ate



Belle’s love of pink and green is how it began
that veggie colored breads were her mama’s plan.
Spinach was blended. The beets were attacked by a masher.
The kitchen looked like the work of a slasher.


Yeast, flour and veggie juice became a frothy mix.
Mama and Belle then became kneading chicks.


After a rest, a rise and nap,
Rolls were made in snap.


Before their trip to the oven would be,
We marked them with a B for Belle and me.



For the recipe for the bread go to My Food Blog.  I submitted this little ditty to Yeastspotting.