Sass & Veracity

Chocolate Valentino Cake with Strawberry Banana Ice Cream

As the morning unfolds on this the day of the February Daring Baker's reveal, I'm proud to say I finished my challenge a few weeks ago, which could imply that this post was written and ready to auto publish at midnight.  But no.  I guess that with respect to me, it is possible to be too organized.  Best laid plans, right?

So here I am on my oldest son's thirtieth birthday (shhhhh.....) writing about chocolate cake and strawberry banana ice cream, which, now that I think of it is incredibly appropriate since the chocolate cake I'm thinking of is flourless and my son's food allergies and celiac's issues make it a perfect birthday cake.  Unfortunately, he's not supposed to eat dairy products, either, so the ice cream is a rude accompaniment, packed full of heavy cream and milk. But he doesn't care at this point, and a mother can't exactly tell her thirty-year-old how to live his life. Actually, she can, but I wouldn't be that mother, choosing instead to enjoy my son's company whenever I can and hoping that some day, he'll take his health issues seriously.

This February 2009 challenge is hosted by Wendy of WMPE's blog and Dharm of Dad ~ Baker & Chef who have chosen a Chocolate Valentino cake by Chef Wan; a Vanilla Ice Cream recipe from Dharm and a Vanilla Ice Cream recipe from Wendy as the challenge.

Clearly I chose to have some fun with my ice cream.  I couldn't resist the idea of coming up with flavors that remind me of a banana split.

Upside Down Cutie Cake

With nearly two years writing here, it's only been recently that I've begun to discover other foodies in and around the San Diego area.  Although I've found several, it still amazes me when a new one pops up and I add it to my mental list of, I should create a section just for us in my sidebar.  Now, I'm sure there are lots of reasons we add a new link to our sidebars -- or in some cases, a special page for links, but for me, it's more about keeping it where I can see it.  Then it's easier for me to visit.

You're laughing, right?  Because I know lots of people use readers, and I have a few myself.  But for some reason, I've never gotten into the routine of actually using it and so I find myself flitting from one place to another without a care in the world.

It's shameful, this gadabout lack of organization, but lovely things do come from it.  I'll call it serendipitous that I happened onto Food Blogga's recipe for Clementine Upside Down Cake the other day.  I couldn't pass up the opportunity to try it since I've had a box of "Cuties" for longer than I'd like to admit, thinking they'd end up in marmalade. 

Sure, like I'd make marmalade. Well, I thought I might, tempted by all the amazing citrus in the markets right now and a bundle of fresh vanilla beans I purchased not too long ago.

My grandmother used to make pineapple upside down cake in her black cast iron skillet, and it's been years since I had a taste of that.  But I've always been more fond of tangerines than pineapple -- especially canned pineapple, so the idea of sweet tangerine flavor soaked into a light cake sounded perfect.

Looks like the marmalade will have to wait a bit longer, because I just had to make this cake.

Glazed Crumb Cake with Cardamom and Pecans

We weren't snackers or dessert eaters when I was growing up, so the idea of crumb cake didn't occur to me until I had my first job fresh out of high school working in a grocery store when I was 17.  They came individually wrapped, and if I kept my eyes open, I could find a few on the day-old bakery rack for 10 cents. But it wasn't just crumb cakes.   I remember being fascinated by all the packaged baked goods, amazed that the selection was so huge.  It was like being in a strange kind of food Disneyland having my very own income and anything I wanted to purchase at my fingertips.

My mother didn't keep too many "goodies" in the house beyond what was packed in our lunches, and even then, variety was almost non-existent.  And grocery stores in general were an oddity to me because she shopped at the Navy Commissary, and rarely took us with her.

So when I came across this recipe for crumb cake in an old magazine, I had to try it, remembering my long ago fascination with those oh-so-moist little cakes and the crumbly tops that make a sweet mess each time you sink your teeth into one.

There will be no hiding the fact that you've had your hand in the sweets! 

Daring Bakers: Caramel Cake with Caramelized Brown Butter Frosting

Here I am on a Saturday morning, writing the post for the Daring Bakers' November challenge.  It's due today, but with all the chaos of construction in our house, and cooking for Thanksgiving, somehow there wasn't time to write. Let me rethink that:  I didn't feel like writing until this morning. In fact, baking hasn't been all that enjoyable since the space I normally work in is being shared with this Mac, a printer, and all sorts of other lovely things that usually have places somewhere upstairs, like bills, and catalogues, magazines I've got recipes tagged in, and things I don't want to lose track of -- like the check book we couldn't find yesterday when we needed it for the contractor.  It's a complete dust covered disaster.

To complete the image, my son's computer is set up on a card table directly behind mine, so it's a tight squeeze with the two of us sitting back to back, clicking and pecking away.

Needless to say, my kitchen is always in some stage of being used and in a reduced space, I'm exhausted with trying to make it look reasonable, too.  Good thing this month's challenge was such a breeze -- and a completely delicious one!

This month, we've had the opportunity to delve into Eggbeater author & chef Shuna Fish Lydon's recipe for Caramel Cake with Caramelized Butter Frosting.  Additionally, we could choose to make Alice Medrich's Golden Vanilla Bean Caramels, but I bowed out on this one to save for another time.  Many thanks to this month's hosts, Dolores of Chronicles in Culinary Curiosity, Alex of Blondie and Brownie, and Jenny of Foray into Food, for such excellent choices. Natalie of Gluten a Go Go assisted with quantities and ingredients for alternative diets.  Nice job, ladies!

Browned Butter and Caramel?  Oh my.  Absolutely perfect flavors for the season!  Wait.  Isn't browned butter good in any season? 

That's what I thought.  Now add some lovely hazelnuts and pear crisps and voila!

Chocolate Chipotle Cakes with Tomatillo Sauce and Cream

There's a chocolate company here in San Diego that keeps me quite happy -- Chuao Chocolatiers.  Actually, it's my husband who keeps me happy gifting me small boxes of their very unique chocolates several times during the year:  Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, my birthday, our anniversary...  I am thankfully rarely out of Chuao chocolate.  I think biting into one of their dark nuggets of wonderfulness is what helped me understand that dessert can be sweet and have a bite -- a spicy bite that is.

So when I saw this Boca Negra Chocolate Chipotle Cakes recipe a few years ago I knew I had to try it.  It reminded me of another Boca Negra I'd tried, but this one had so much more to offer.  Chocolate and chipotle?  With tomatillo sauce?  Oh my.  Sometimes, one has to suspend all thought about preconceived notions and just dive right in with the most open of minds.  It is only then that unexpectedly amazing flavors can be enjoyed.

Who knew?

And wonder of all wonders is that this happens to fit right in with this month's Sugar High Friday event, hosted by the talented Anita of Dessert First. The deadline isn't until Monday, the 27th and I'm so done.  Are you ready to spice up your life?

Chocolate Almond Gateau with Almond Praline Buttah-cream

I do have to say that this month's Daring Baker's Challenge was officially the most involved dessert I have ever made.  Okay, so I don't actually keep a tally, but jeez.  And have I actually seen the inside, or tasted it yet?
 

Um, no.

I mentally line up donation options when I complete these challenges so I'm not stuck with all those calories straining to attach themselves to my rear end which is large enough, thank you very much.  Since school's out for the summer and I can't drop it off there, and my mother swears that she can't leave things in the clubhouse of her complex for residents to sample, I donated it ahead of time to my good friend's dinner party. 

When I meet her in the morning at 5:30 for our walk (yawn...), I'll pick up the remnants, listen to her critique, finally get to see the inside, and taste it myself. 

I've made some pretty involved desserts, but goodness.  I knew it was going to be a hum-dinger since I'd just made that Cassata,  but I was determined (since I yet again put this off until the last possible second...) to efficiently work through the entire cake in record time.  Well, record time for me, anyway, because that's always a challenge.  I simply l-a-n-g-u-i-s-h in my kitchen.  I probably would have done it, too, if my Mac hadn't been on the counter.  It is such a distraction.

I will say I must have been concentrating fairly hard, because at some point around noon, I received a few emails, and some Twitter inquires about an earthquake.  Earthquake?  Really?  Sure enough.  After checking USGS, I could see that there had been an earthquake near LA.  I also saw in a news report that it was felt as far south as San Diego.  Huh?

So I emailed my hunkster, and he responded saying that their building had swayed quite a bit, and that he checked USGS minutes later and they had already documented the quake.  He works maybe five miles from our house, and my son and I felt nothing.  Go. figure.

I guess that means my Almond Gateau with Praline Buttercream is quite THE cake.

But wait!  There's more.

I didn't have to make one single trip to the store for this challenge.  Not one.  Well, let me qualify that.  I sort of half-assed and semi-casually scanned the nut aisle at Trader Joe's a week ago knowing that I'd need hazelnuts for this challenge, and didn't see them.  There's no way my regular market has them -- EVER --  and I wasn't in the mood to take on Whole Foods and the inevitable basket full of luscious food I'd have to pay for if I ventured there for hazelnuts.  And I just so happened to have not one, but TWO packages of almond meal in my obsessive-compulsively hoarded stockpile of culinary accoutrements well-stocked cupboard just screaming for attention on this cake.   

And there you have it.  For the Daring Baker's July Challenge recipe, please visit the Hostess with the Mostest, Chris of Mele Cotte.  There you will find that the original recipe from Great Cakes by Carol Walter included hazelnuts and not almonds.

So about those interminable steps for this cake:

The Genoise:  I have never made a genoise like this.  When I saw clarified buttah, I thought, jeez.  And if I wasn't careful I'd have a brown buttah genoise on my hands.  Trust me that I would have used it, too.  It was definitely odd adding that butter to the egg-nutmeal mixture and after pouring it into the cakepan, finding that there was a pool of butter at the bottom of the pan that I wasn't supposed to include.  Sure the directions mentioned that little tidbit of information, but it looked like none of the butter actually mixed into the batter based on the lake-sized pool I saw rippling on the bottom of the bowl.

Interesting.  But the cake rose beautifully.  I'm still wondering what the clarified butter was all about.

The Apricot Glaze:  This would be the step I forgot.  Sure I read the recipe 18 times.  I even had my little jar of peach preserves (no apricot in my cupboard...) sitting on the counter just waiting to be used.  It just didn't happen.  My after-the-fact thinking (big fat excuse...) is that since there would be syrup in every nook and cranny on this cake, the glaze wouldn't be missed.  Right.  I should have realized that making the glaze was first up after the cake came out of the oven. But no.  My brain farted on this one. Loudly.

Sugar Syrup:  Why oh why do they always ask you to make so much, and why do I fall for it every single time?  In fact, why did I not save the syrup I made for the Cassata last week?  And why, I think as I'm pouring it down the drain, do I not check to see how long I can save the left-overs?  You know, in case I want to hop out of bed next month and make another cake that needs a sugar syrup soaker.  I could have parked it next to my 12 bags of frozen egg whites and 2 bags of anchovies.  For later.

Swiss Buttercream:  Okay, so I think I can say that each time I've made buttercream, it's been made a different way.  Who knew there could be so many different ways to make the same thing.  Really.  The nice thing about this recipe is that you get to whip the whites in the mixer a bit before you have to use a whisk over the simmering water.  Those of us who like to whine about our wrists thank the recipe gods for this bit of good fortune because we actually had the wherewithall to hold the camera in one hand while whipping with the other.  Yes.    

Praline Paste:  This took the most time to do.  Hands down.  I should have kept track, but I didn't.  I was cruising until I got to this part.  When I melt sugar, I normally use a small saucepan.  This recipe called for a 10-inch skillet.  Hmmmm....I was worried about all that surface area, but Hey!  Sure enough.  It took a month of Sundays to melt that sugar.  ARG!  I swirled and moved the pan over the low-low heat to keep the progress going.  It took an amazing amount of time.  And keeping with the almond theme, I used blanched almond slivers (yes, I had them...) and it was nearly impossible to mix them up in the melted sugar.  But it finally began to bubble, and I was able to dump the lump pour the praline on a pan to cool.  To make the paste, the processor must have run at least 8-10 minutes.  Seriously.  But in the end, I was rewarded with a shiny looking lump of something remotely resembling hard peanut butter.

Ironically, it wasn't difficult to mix a bit of the Swiss Buttercream into the lump before throwing the whole mess into the bowl to get an interesting looking frosting.  Sort of brown.  With specks.  And surprisingly fluffy.

Whipped Cream:  I decided what the hell and added 2 oz. of softened cream cheese and 1 tsp. of sugar to the whipped cream.  You know.  To give it some substance.

Booze:  Whenever rum, or cointreau, or Gran Mariner, or anything else with alcohol in it was called for in this recipe (and it was seriously called for...) I used Cointreau.  I did leave the extra dose called for in the buttahcream out, though.  At some point, isn't it just overkill?  Just wondering.

Ganache Glaze:  Oh man.  This was a bit different than I remembered, too.  It was more...wet.  It was thick enough.  It spread nicely.  It oozed down the sides just fine.  But it never really dried.  Even after it had been in the fridge.  It was set, but not quite like I thought it might.  And I could see tiny lumps here and there after it had settled.  Picky picky.  The taste was lovely.  Mmmm...chocolate and orange is always nice.

Decorations:  I had to do the white chocolate leaves.  Had to.  It has been so long since I've taken the time to do any kind of decoration, I kind of got carried away.  And the almonds?  Clearly, we like almonds here, because I have all kinds of them around.  Yes, the decoration looks like a poinsettia.  No, that wasn't the idea. In fact, the plan was to make dark chocolate leaves for the entire top, but my chocolate didn't cooperate, so that's why I ended up with white.  And you can't exactly move things around on that ganache which is a complete drag.

When I get the left overs of my cake back (because my friend doesn't want it in her house, either...), I'll let you know what I think of the taste and try to get a photo of a slice.  You'll come back, right?

When pigs fly.  ;)

Addendum:  Okay, so I walked my 3 miles this morning and have retrieved my cake.  The consensus last night at her party was that the cake is surprisingly not too sweet, half the cake was eaten, but they didn't ask for more."    And now that I've tasted it, I'll agree.  I just had a piece for breakfast and I'm loving that I can taste those tiny pieces of almonds.  The praline isn't as strong as I thought it might be -- a good thing -- and the buttercream a pleasant, creamy compliment to the genoise.  Very, very nice.  But no, I don't want another piece right now, either.  I'm quite satisfied.

Don't forget to check out the other 8 trillion Daring Bakers and their Nutty Cakes.  You'll be amazed.

I Say Cassata, You say...

I'm sitting here eating cake.  It's 10:45 am, I slept decadently until a quarter past nine, and no one is here but me and my cake.  And it's not just any cake.

It's Cassata.

I know.  I never heard of it before last week, either, but when you are in the company of the baking-obsessed and whimsical group of lovely food bloggers that I often find myself...well.  You make cassata.  And yes, it's lovely for breakfast with a side of caffeine while your dog stares at your empty plate just waiting for an invite, and your cat squalls at you just because she can.

Here's how this happens.  Amongst the myriad emails that fly back and forth between the people in this group, someone mentions a recipe.  Links are forwarded, photos emerge, then others start throwing their suggestions in the hat.  Each one seems better than the last, of course, and when a selection is made, then we know we'll all have our Skype ready to go on a particular day and time.  Yep.  The Bakenistas stuck again this past weekend.  And at my house, that means my Mac was hefted down to sit in the maelstrom that is my kitchen when I bake.

The only problem with this particular session is that the night before, I made a last minute S'mores cake to take to a family get together and didn't clean the kitchen.  It was one of those, "We went to Italy and all we brought back was 750 photos that we'll now share with you" type of evenings.  And since the Bakenista session was scheduled for 7am my time the next day, it meant that I'd have to start baking with a:  1)  full dishwasher that needed emptying; 2) two sinks full of dishes; 3)  a counter still sporting ingredients I'd need for the cassata; and...wait.  I'll show you.  And at this point, I'd already begun to clean somewhat.  What a pig.

But I digress...I slept until past 8am, so by the time I lugged my Mac to its appointed spot, the bake chat was in full swing, and there's absolutely no way you can start from the beginning to see what you missed while you were getting your beauty rest.

It was fun, just like it always is, but it was involved, and as soon as my cassata was in the fridge cooling, I had to start dinner -- yes, these bake fests take most of the day.  But in a very clean kitchen, I was able to put dinner on the table...erm our laps.  Television on a soft sofa was a definite requirement after this day.

Cassata alia Siciliana
my version...

For the Sponge Cakes
2 c. bleached cake flour, sifted
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp kosher salt, plus a pinch
8 lg. eggs, separated
1-1/2 c. granulated sugar
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2  c. unsalted butter, melted and cooled

For the Syrup
2 c. granulated sugar
3/4 c. cold water
1/2 c. Marsala FINE

For the Filling
3 oz. bittersweet chocolate, finely grated
3/4 c. chopped almonds
3 c. fresh, whole milk ricotta
1 c. confectioner's sugar, sifted
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
Freshly grated zest of 2 medium oranges

For the Icing
1-1/2 c. heavy cream
1 tsp. gelatin dissolved in 2 tbsp water
1 c. confectioner's sugar
1/8 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
8 oz. cream cheese at room temp

For the Candied Orange Peels
Skin from two large oranges
Left over Marsala Syrup
Granulated sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and position a rack in the center.  Lightly grease two 8" round cake pans with cooking spray, then line the bottom with parchment and spray again.

For the sponge cakes, sift together flour, baking powder and salt, then set aside.  In the bowl of your mixer, whisk together egg yolks and sugar on medium speed until very light and pale yellow in color.  In about 3 minutes, it will double in volume.  Beat in the vanilla extract, then slowly pour in the melted, cooled butter.  Pour the mixture into a large mixing bowl and fold in the reserved dry ingredients using a rubber spatula until just mixed.  It will be very thick and somewhat sticky.  Do not over mix.

Clean the bowl of your mixer and the whisk to remove all egg yolks, then add the egg whites and pinch of salt, beating on medium high speed until soft peaks are formed.  Add about 1/4 of the egg whites to the reserved batter and stir to lighten, then add the rest, folding to incorporate, and lighten the thickness of the batter. Make sure no pockets of dry ingredients remain.

Evenly divide the batter between the prepared pans, smoothing the tops with a spatula.  Bake the cakes for 30 minutes or until they are golden brown, when a wooden skewer inserted in the center is clean when removed.  Allow cakes to cool in the pans for 5 minutes, then remove to wire racks to cool completely.

While the cakes are baking, make the syrup.  In a narrow saucepan, stir together sugar, water, and marsala.  Place the saucepan over medium heat and bring the contents to a boil, then lower the heat slightly and allow the syrup to simmer for 5 minutes undisturbed.  Remove the pan from the heat and allow the syrup to cool.

Then prepare the filling.  Place the ricotta, confectioner's sugar, and cinnamon in the bowl of an electric mixer and, using the paddle attachment, beat until the ricotta is creamy and soft.  Add the grated chocolate, chopped almonds, and orange zest and beat just until combined.

To assemble the cassata, have ready an 8-inch springform pan.  Using a serrated knife, carefully spit each cake layer in half horizontally to make four layers.  Place one of the layers in the bottom of the pan cut side up and using a pastry brush, moisen it generously and evenly with some of the marsala syrup.  Spread the cake layer evenly with one third of the ricotta mixture.  Repeat twice with another cake layer, more of the marsala syrup, and another thired of the rictta mixture.  Place the final cake layer on top and generously brush with the rum syrup.  Wrap the springform pan tightly in plastic wrap to help the layers fit snugly on top of one another.  Chill the cake in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours or overnight.

About halfway through the chilling period, make the candied orange peels. Slice the ends off each orange, then in a downward motion, make parallel cuts through the skin around each orange.  Remove strips from the oranges, and if desired, adjust the thickness of each by slicing in half.

In a pan of boiling water, drop the orange peel strips in, and let cook for a minute or so.  Drain and repeat.  Then with the marsala syrup left from the cake, stir in orange peel strips and heat, simmering on a very low setting for about an hour.  Remove strips with a fork, and a few at a time, drop and roll in a plate full of granulated sugar.  Remove to a wire rack lined with waxed paper until dry. 

To make the frosting, in the bowl of a mixer, whip heavy cream until soft peaks form.  Add the softened gelatin, then whip until stiff.  In another bowl, combine cream cheese, sugar, salt and vanilla until smooth.  Fold the whipped cream into the cheese mixture and make sure all is incorporated.

To frost the cake, spread icing on the sides smoothly, then mound the rest on the top.  Place candied orange peels around the top and refrigerate to set the frosting about 1 hour.

Watch husband, mother, and finnicky teen eaters gobble it up when served after dinner.

Notes: 

• This cake has the all important "not too sweet" factor going on.  The ricotta and bittersweet chocolate are a pleasant combo -- especially since the chocolate isn't melted as it usually is.  Very nice!  The crunch of the well-chopped almonds added to the uniqueness of this filling.  The grated orange peel is only a hint in each bite.
• The sponge comes together rather oddly.  It's very, very thick before the addition of the egg whites, and I did wonder whether there would be any air left in the whites as I incorporated them.  My worries were unfounded, because the cakes rose very well, and after slicing each in half, allowed for four 1-inch layers.  Nice!
• The original recipe called for unsalted pistachios and after having my husband call from the grocery store several times not being able to find them, I settled for almonds.  No complaints about my husband doing the shopping, of course.  That's a treat.
• The original recipe also called for rum, and I'm sort of Bleh on rum unless it's a Pina Colada, so marsala wasn't a difficult choice.  The syrup was not boozy tasting and the marsala was a perfect compliment to the orange.  Pleasantly surprised!  Cointreau or Gran Mariner would have been too strong in my opinion, which is only worth about two cents on most days.
• I had to have cream cheese and whipped cream with this cake.  I needed a fluffy, not too strong, light and pleasant accompaniment to the sponge and dense filling.  So thanks, Breadchick, for the suggestion.  It was perfect!
• The recipe calls for chocolated grated in "fine, feathery shreds."  Um.  This takes FOREVER.  But when you're done, you'll have quite the pile of chocolate feathers.  And chocolate everywhere in your kitchen.  Not bad if you have light colored floors and counters, but take a gander at mine again.  It sort of blends in, doesn't it.  What.  A.  Mess.
• If you don't have an 8" springform pan, line a larger one with plastic wrap so that the long edges are draped up and over the edges.  Place the first layer of the cassata into the pan, then begin the process of layering.  When you're finished, draw the plastic up over the cake and wrap tightly before refrigerating.  Use the plastic to lift the cake from the pan for frosting.  Yes, I did this.
• I've made candied orange peels a variety of ways, and I do have to say that adding them to that left over marsala syrup was genius (pats self on back).  The bitterness never quite goes away even though the initial blanching is supposed to get rid of it, but the marsala really helped tone it down.  A bite of candied orange peel on a perfectly loaded fork really tastes yummy.

 
And a final note --  Not much gets me up early on Sunday without my eyebrows!  But these folks will, and even though not all of us are able to bake or chat when we get together, it's a great experience.

This time, Lis, Ben, John, Steph, Helen, Chris, Ivonne, and Marce added to the madness.  Mary was laid up with a back injury but ubiquitously there, and unfortunately, Sara, Tanna, and Laura had other things to do on a lovely Sunday.  Imagine that!

Until next time.  And who knows when that will be.  It's always a surprise.

Cassata, anyone?  I am pleasantly surprised, because I didn't think I'd enjoy this as much as I have.

Opera Cake: Intensely Apricot

One of the very best things I enjoy about participating in our monthly Daring Baker's challenges is procrastinating until the last possible second spending an entire day in my kitchen -- or as with the case this month -- a couple of days.  Spending a day in my kitchen isn't a rare occurrence, as I do that often, but it's usually trying to juggle all the things I buy that won't fit in my kitchen multitasking with dinner.  Thinking about one recipe, and then indulging myself in all the possibilities makes me completely bonkers giddy.  Bear in mind, this also means, I spend the time in my grungy pajamas comfies.  I head straight for the kitchen.

I'm a serious psycho food nerd.

This month, the Opera Cake made me want to rip my hair out presented some challenges for me with flavor combinations.  It wasn't so much not knowing what the main flavor would be since we were charged with going "light," because this is the time of year when apricots start showing up here.  Those lovely, sun-kissed, orangey-colored pieces of fruit that resemble  an ample derriere. The challenge was more of what goes with apricots, and how not to get carried away adding too many different flavors.  So many choices, so little time.  Sigh.

But have you ever heard of apriums?  Half apricot, half plum.  Go figure.  I saw some at our farmer's market and knew they'd have a place in my Opera Cake.  The question as the month went by was, where, exactly.
I told you they looked like derrieres...

As it turns out, I used fresh apricots, dried California apricots, Swiss apricot preserves, and aprium puree in my Opera Cake. And a touch of Italian marsala...

Apricots, anyone?

Heavenly.  Totally.

This month, in celebration of the Daring Bakers finalizing their divorce from Blogger to wallow in their very own space in the bloggosphere, The Daring Bakers' Kitchen, Lis & Ivonne, the illustrious creators of the Daring Bakers hosted the May challenge.  And the choice was amazing -- one that I'd never heard of before.

The recipe used to create this Opera Cake can be found at Creampuffs in Venice or La Mia Cucina and was influenced by Dorie Greenspan's Paris Sweets and Tish Boyle & Timothy Moriarty's Chocolate Passion.  Make sure you give a round of applause when you stop by the Queens of Daring Bakerness, and then if you want a purely calorieless adventure, stroll through the Daring Baker Blogroll.  It's always quite an amazing time.

And guess what?  I'm hosting the June Challenge along with Ben of What's Cookin'?  But you'll have to wait to see what the Daring Bakers create when revealed on June 29th!

In the meantime, here is my "light" version of an Opera cake whose bright and sunny cheerfulness is dedicated to Barbara of Winos and Foodies, Daring Baker Emeritus, and A Taste of Yellow, an event to recognize Livestrong Day. Cheers, Barbara!

Joconde: I made the recipe as written, using two jellyroll pans.  For once, I chose not to use a convection setting, and it did take more than the 5-9 minutes described.  Twelve minutes produced a pleasant joconde, very lightly browned on top. 

• What to work on next time:  Getting the batter evenly spread in the pans.  This was quite the thick batter!  And go back to my convection settings.  All that nice swirling hot air?  I'm hooked. 

Syrup:  After much deliberation, I chose an Italian marsala to flavor this.  The flavor was very pleasant, only hinting of the marsala, and thankfully not tasting like sometimes heavily boozy flavor of rum or brandy that I don't care for but will eat if you force it on me.

• What to try next time:  Amaretto.  I didn't have any and we have a cupboard full of booze we don't drink already...well, except for the tequila. I didn't feel like adding another one to the collection so I could use a tablespoon full once every blue moon.

Buttercream:  Oh.  My.  Goodness.  So heavenly tasting.  Truly!  The biggest challenge is finding that perfect place to position the pan the syrup cooked in to let it dribble down the sides of the mixing bowl.  I've made buttercream and meringue using this technique before, and I have to say this went very well.  No spun sugar effect decorating my whisk this time!  For flavoring, I chose to use whole vanilla bean, and following information I've used in the past for adding fruit purees from Rose Levy Beranbaum's The Cake Bible, I heated, cooled, and strained 1/2 c. of apricot preserves, adding it to the finished buttercream. The preserves were a perfect addition, never even giving the appearance of breaking the buttercream.  The tartness was a perfect compliment, and the color a delicate, pale, well...apricot. 

• What to work on next time:  making a freaking decision for gawd's sake.  I swear.  I am the MOST indecisive person at times.  Oh, and not licking my fingers.  I know there's two cups of buttah in this, but a person's gotta have a vice, right?  This would be it.  I've got 8 miles in for the week so far, so that helps, right?

White Chocolate Ganache/Mousse:  Um.  I was worried about white chocolate overload and was still wallowing in my love affair with apricots, so made a mousse with aprium puree instead of white chocolate while the first segment of the Opera Cake assembly was refrigerating.  I was able to remove my cakes from the fridge, then add the mousse and replace them in the fridge overnight.
    To make the puree, add 2 tablespoons sugar to  2 cups fresh apriums and let sit to macerate, then cook over medium heat until completely soft, about 15 minutes.  When cooled, remov seeds and skins, then  place in food processor to puree. Push through a chinois, removing all pulp to leave a velvety smooth puree. 
    To make the mousse, Add 1/2 tablespoon dissolved gelatin, then in a separate bowl, whip 3/4 cup heavy cream.  Slowly fold the aprium mixture into the cream on low speed.

• What to work on next time:  This is what took so long.  I wanted to use the white chocolate to stabilize the cream, but was worried about adding the apriums to this and could find nothing (five good sources...) to soothe my worries, so chickened out.  The mousse was fabulous under that white chocolate glaze, and perfect to cut the sweetness.  Perfect!  But it needs to be served immediately, as it begins to bulge a bit on the small rounds.  I could have used less mousse, but was experimenting...It didn't seem to be a problem on the larger squares.

Glaze:  At the eleventh hour (like...this morning at 7am?) I succumbed to the white chocolate demons and melted Vahlrona (14 ounces) with 1/2 heavy cream as called for in the recipe.  It went famously well, and I was able to pour the glaze into my four small rounds to pop back into the fridge, then pour a good quantity over each of the small square cakes, and pushing some over the edges to give that oozy goozy drooly effect.  My squares were free form, so drooling white chocolate glaze it was.  I have TONS left over. 

• What to work on next time:  Suck it up and make an apricot mirror for the top.  Now THAT would be amazing.

Additional Features: Apricot Jam to spread on each layer of joconde after the addition of the marsala syrup.  I used a recipe from Dorie Greenspan's Baking with Julia for this.  In a 4 or 8 cup measuring cup, place 1 c. packed dried apricots, 1 c. water, and 1 cup sugar.  Microwave on high for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally until apricots have nearly soaked up the water.  Pour into the food processor fitted with the metal blade, then puree.  Add 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice and a splash of marsala.  Cool to room temp, then with a wide knife, heated in a cup of hot water, spread thinly over each layer of joconde.

• What to work on next time: Leave more liquid.  The final mixture becomes very thick -- almost pastelike.  It's easily thinned with more lemon juice or even water, but it's difficult to work with if overheated.  This is such a great way to make a jam that I'm thinking it's perfect for ice cream, or biscuits, or thumbprint cookies.  The flavor is amazingly intense and it's so easy to make.

Assembly:   After measuring 10" squares from each sheet of joconde, I used the two remaining rectangles to cut 12 rounds for 4 small Opera Cakes.  The two squares were each cut into four more squares to have a 4 joconde layer Opera Cake.

Tah Dah!

   

The flavors work so well with one another, the tartness of the mousse so pleasant under the white chocolate glaze, and my favorite part -- the jam made with the dried apricots.  Very, very nice.

The two pieces I "taste tested" for breakfast this morning slid right down. Now, should I freeze the extra small square, or take it down to the middle school?

Banana Pound Cake with Chocolate Morsels

Bananas, chocolate, and I go way back.  In a banana split, as far as I'm concerned, the only purpose for the ice cream is to hold up the bananas and chocolate syrup.  And frozen bananas dipped in chocolate? 

Oh. Yum.  I'll never forget the first time I had one of those -- Knott's Berry Farm when I was in the 7th grade and had one of my grandmothers in tow.  Okay, so probably the other way around.  But still.

Where was I?

Bananas on cereal, banana cream pie, banana ice cream.  When you're on a diet, sliced bananas just barely frozen dipped into non-fat Cool Whip.  Shhhh....don't tell anyone. 

Bananas.  I love them.  So you'd think I always have them in the house, and able to bask in their wonderfulness whenever I'd like, right?  But no.  The guys in the house let them get brown.  I have to practically wave them under their noses to get them to notice.  What?  It's a chore to peel one and chew it?  To sigh at the not too sweet flavor of the fruit, and realize you've just had dessert?

How can anyone not like that?

There is one lovely thing about bananas that have gotten beyond the "peel and eat" stage.  They become...

Banana Pound Cake. 

With chocolate chips, of course.  Could there be anything better to have coffee or tea with early on a sunny morning?

2-1/4 c. all purpose flour
1 T baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 c. buttermilk
1/2 c. goat cheese
1-1/2 sticks (6 oz.) unsalted butter, softened
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1 c. extra fine sugar
2 lg. eggs
2 very ripe bananas, fully mashed
3/4 c. bittersweet chocolate morsels (62% cacao)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  Spray a 9x5x3" loaf pan with cooking spray and line the bottom with parchment before spraying again.

Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together three times and set aside.

In another bowl, mix the buttermilk and goat cheese until well blended.

In the bowl of a standing mixer, cream the butter with the cinnamon using the paddle attachment.  Then, one tablespoon at a time, add the sugar very slowly with the motor running on high.  The sugar will blow around a bit, so be prepared...This takes about 8 minutes to do, so be patient. After all the sugar has been added, scrape down the sides.  The mixture will be very light in color and extremely fluffy.

Now add the eggs, one at a time, and mix well after each addition.  Scrape down the sides.

Starting with the flour mixture, add 1/3 and mix just until incorporated.  Then add 1/3 of the buttermilk mixture, and so on, mixing each time until just mixed.  Remove the bowl from the mixer and using a rubber spatula, fold in the bananas and the chocolate morsels.

Pour the batter into the loaf pan and bake on a rack positioned in the center of the oven for about 1 hour and 15 minutes or until a wooden skewer inserted in the center comes out clean.

Cool on a baking rack for about 15 minutes, then remove from pan to cool completely at room temperature.

 

Notes:  This recipe is adapted from Sherry Yard's Banana Pound Cake in her Secrets of Baking.  I used a convection setting and tented the loaf with foil 30 minutes into the cooking time.  The cake rises very quickly, and browns deeply.  About half way through the baking time, I turned the oven down 5 degrees.

This is a delicious cake that would be just as lovely without the chocolate chips.  It cuts well, and is easily stored at room temperature if it lasts long enough.

This is the second pound cake I've made from this book and can say that the slow addition of the sugar really delivers a very lovely, airy cake.  I can't wait to try it with berries...

Brown Butter Ice Cream with Salted Almond Brittle & Pound Cake

I'm convinced there's nothing quite like being under the weather for four whole days to put myself behind in all the expectations I had of posting a series of savory recipes in a logical and timely manner.  So much for best laid plans.  But I'm raring to go now, and taking pity on you for having to look at carne asada for days and days.  I decided a treat was in order instead.

I apologize that it's not low in calories.

But I saw a few recipes that I just couldn't resist putting my own little touch on.  You understand.  I know you do.

And then, there is that salt I purchased not too long ago...

It all started with the January 2008 issue of bon appetit, Best of the Year.  It was their Flavor of the Year choice that many other cooking publications soon followed: brown butter.  If there is anything that could be as heavenly as butter, it would be brown butter.  Oh my.  One of my very favorite dishes is pasta with brown butter and mizithra.  Wait.  Make that sage and brown butter on pasta.  But that wouldn't be the treat I mentioned above.  No.

Days went by.  Maybe weeks.  Or was it that the days just felt like weeks?  Whatever.  But one day as I was lurking around David Lebowitz' website I nearly swooned when I saw his recipe for Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream.

I wondered whether I'd actually read salt and caramel, and butter in the same phrase.  With ice cream?  Oh.  My.  The only possible thing that could make this better is...

...you guessed it.

Brown Butter.  In fact, Brown Butter Ice Cream.

With pound cake.  And not just any pound cake.  It's buttery, and light.  It's so moist and has the finest crumb.

I'm really sorry about the calories.  Truly I am.  But I couldn't resist.  And do you know what's worse?  Now that I've tried it, I can think of so many ways to make it even better.

Party on.  With food, of course.

Brown Butter Ice Cream with Salted Almond Brittle with Sherry Yard's Pound Cake

Make the pound cake first:

1/2 lb. unsalted butter, softened
1 c. + 2 T granulated sugar
4 lg. eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
1-3/4 c. cake flour sifted 3 x
2 tsp. baking powder
pinch of kosher salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and make sure your baking rack is centered in your oven.  Prepare a loaf pan (9x5x3-inch) by spraying with oil and lining the bottom with parchment.  Spray the parchment as well.

Pre-measure all ingredients ahead of time.  Sift the cake flour with the baking powder and salt so they are well mixed.

In the bowl of a standing mixer using a paddle attachment, beat butter on high speed until creamy -- at least a minute. While the mixer is running, slowly pour the sugar into the bowl over a 5 minute period of time.  You will notice that the mixture becomes very light and fluffy-looking during this process.  Scrape down the bowl when you are finished. 

Add eggs one at a time making sure to run the mixer each time until the egg is completely incorporated.  Scrape down the bowl each time you finish.

Then, slowly add the flour about 1/2 cup at a time with the mixer running on low.  Add the salt and mix well.

Pour the batter into the loaf pan and bake for 50 - 60 minutes keeping an eye on the top so that it won't brown too deeply.

Remove from oven when a wooden pick inserted is removed clean.  Cool briefly in the pan on a baking rack before turning out to cool completely on the rack.

Notes:  This is the Master Pound Cake from Yard's The Secrets of Baking book.  I've made two pound cake recipes now, and can say that it's worth it to whip the sugar into the butter on high as directed.  The resulting bread is so light and airy, it cuts and toasts beautifully.  If you have trouble with the idea of adding the sugar over the expected period of time, set a timer.  Be warned if you don't have a shield on your mixer, though.  The sugar does blow around!

This recipe comes together extremely quickly, so is perfect to put into the oven while busying yourself with other things.

Make the Salted Almond Brittle next:

1/2 c. extra fine sugar (caster sugar, baker's sugar)
3/4 tsp. Fleur de Sel
1/4 c. coarsely chopped almonds

It is extremely important to have everything ready for this recipe.  Prepare a baking pan by lining it with a silicone mat or by lightly oiling it.  Make sure the pan and salt are right next to the pan you'll be cooking the sugar in.

Spread sugar in a pan evenly over medium heat.  As the edges begin to melt, use a silicone spatula to lightly push the unmelted sugar toward the melted parts to make sure all is dissolved.  Stay with the pan, watching it closely until the sugar is a rich caramel color, just barely, slightly beginning to smoke and getting ready to burn. 

Immediately, sprinkle the salt over the surface without stirring, then quickly pour onto the prepared baking pan.  Pick up the baking pan and move around to allow the caramel to run and spread as much as possible.  Quickly sprinkle the chopped almonds over the brittle before it hardens.  Set aside to cool.

Now, make the ice cream:

6 T unsalted butter
2 c. heavy cream
1 c. whole milk
6 lg. egg yolks
1/3 c. sugar
1/3 c. dark brown sugar
1/4 tsp. kosher salt
3/4 tsp. vanilla
crushed salted almond brittle

Melt butter in a small sauce pan over medium low heat, cooking until the butter turns a dark amber color, making sure to stir once in a while.  Make sure it doesn't burn.  Pour it through a very fine strainer to remove the dark brown residue.  Set aside.

Prepare a bowl with an ice bath.  You'll pour the heated custard into this.  (See notes)

Whisk egg yolks, sugars, and salt in a large bowl until it is thick and well blended.  Meanwhile, heat milk and heavy cream over a medium heat in a large sauce pan until simmering.

Add the brown butter to the egg yolk mixture.  Then pour a small amount of the hot milk into the egg mixture, stirring quickly.  Pour the egg mixture into the hot milk, again stirring quickly as you pour.  Using either a candy thermometer you can attach to the pan or an instant-read thermometer, heat mixture until it reaches 178 degrees F, about 5 minutes or less.

Strain the custard into a large bowl before setting into the prepared ice bath and stirring frequently until cold.  Stir in vanilla.

Process in an ice cream maker according to manufacturer's directions. 

Crush the salted almond brittle using a rolling pin, making sure large pieces are reserved for serving if you wish.

Add the crushed brittle to the ice cream mixer slowly during the very last few seconds of mixing.  Scrape into a container that can be sealed well and placed in a freezer for at least one hour before serving.

To serve:

Slice the pound cake and dollop ice cream over.  If you reserved and pieces of salted almond brittle, sprinkle over the top.

Notes: To prepare an ice bath my way, fill your sink with cold water and add either ice cubes or those refreezable lunch packs and place the bowl you'll pour the custard in into the sink, weighted down with anything that's clean until you're ready to pour.  Classically, an ice bath is a large bowl filled with ice and water, fitted with a smaller bowl.  In my experience, the ice melts, and has to be replaced, so I like the sink idea better.  Plus, you can multi-task (read prepare dinner) while the custard is cooling in the sink, stirring it occasionally...Trust me.  It works.

The crushed brittle in this ice cream is beyond amazing.  It sort of melts in the ice cream and you get this caramelly effect with an occasional crunch from still hard brittle or an almond. 

And the salt?  Ohhhhhh....

The salt.

You have to try this.

How to make it better?  Well, I was dying for sauce.  I know that's horribly decadent, but still.  I wanted it.  I didn't get it, of course, because I'm still thinking. 

And why oh why didn't I make David Lebowitz' Salted Butte Caramel Ice Cream?  Uh.  Because it required an extensive amount of refrigeration (8 hours).  Now, that isn't bad unless you're me, and didn't plan properly.  I completely plan to make his luscious ice cream and have every sense that I will find what was missing in mine.  Well, except for the brown butter.  Jeez.

As far as my planning goes, just to convince you I'm entirely crazy, I came home from the grocery store at just past noon on a Saturday and made this before putting together a lasagna with a homemade bolognese (I'd made the sauce earlier) and clams in white wine and lemon for starters.  Guests arrived at 6:30.

Fun was had by all.