Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Not-So-Exciting (Yet So Exciting) Pumpkin Muffins



In the chicken yard of baked goods, muffins are probably at the bottom of my baking pecking order. Don't get me wrong, I love them - they just seem to be something more "utilitarian", something to satiate a hunger pang rather than something I'll go out of the way to bake just for the joy of baking. Because they tend to be more virtuous than cupcakes, some muffins beg to be slathered in jam or butter: a hope of becoming more than they are. Some are perfect candidates for the freezer, pucks of frozen nutrition, waiting for me to remember that I stashed them in there. They do come in handy when I remember I'm hungry as I'm running out the door, but I don't often crave them, pushing them aside for other sweet, compact grab-ables such as cookies.

Every once in a while, I make a muffin that I want to eat all 12 of, and then set out to make a second batch. When that happens, I make a note and then change my tune. "What was I thinking", I ask myself, "I love muffins"! I would all of a sudden travel the world over to be able to crawl humbly back to my kitchen and mix up a batch of hand-sized quick breads, and I wouldn't even wait for them to cool before popping them into my mouth.



I have two confessions, and one of them involves Martha Stewart. The first confession is that I'm cheap. I like to think I'm cheap with class, but not always is that the case. When standing overwhelmed at the baking aisle at the non-food-co-op-grocery prior to Thanksgiving, I evil-eyed the cans of pumpkin. I don't know why, but I could not bring myself to buy the 15 oz. cans, when the 29 oz. cans were cheaper per ounce. I solemnly cursed the manufacturers that they are always putting one ounce less in something just so that a purist baker somewhere will succumb to buying the 15 oz. cans instead of a 29 oz. can so that she won't be short. Seeing as I don't buy all that much canned food, my steaming was brief, but still. Do they think I don't notice? I do. I still buy the large cans to spite them, then store the leftovers in the fridge for a few days until I can figure out what to do with them... in the case of this post, making pumpkin muffins.

My second (and unrelated) confession is that I have no real opinion about Martha Stewart. She's smart, obviously driven, and has more well appointed houses than I'll ever have. She cooks, bakes, decorates, and reads and still has time to gild a lily. I like her books, love their layouts and photography, but often find fault in her recipes. I take her recommends with a grain of salt, and don't buy into every new adventure she concocts. When I grabbed SoNo Baking Company Cookbook from the new shelf at the library, admittedly it was for the gorgeous cover. When I opened it up and read the preface by Martha herself, I discovered that it's writer was at one time one of the minions of Martha's staff. I had the book sitting on the counter for 2 weeks before reading any further.

Just a few days ago, I finally cracked it back open and was rewarded handsomely with this recipe. Besides a tome of hugely interesting baked goods, I also found in it that I shouldn't judge Martha. She is what she is, and she does recognize great talent. John Barricelli writes this book well, and also clearly has amazing ideas about baking. When I couldn't actually decide what muffin to try first, I knew he had me. And after the first bite of soft, almost-as-good-as-a-cupcake pumpkin muffin, I knew that this indeed is a great book.



I hardly alterered John's recipe. I did reduce the sugar slightly (and I used raw instead) and omitted the raisins on request of the Boy-O. He eats them fine on their own, but doesn't like them "in things" all of a sudden. I added walnuts instead, and sprinkled some on the tops prior to baking. Because the muffin is so moist and cake-like, they stuck out like ants on a rock. No matter, they tasted great all toasted up. Next time, I'll probably leave them off though.

Pumpkin Muffins (adapted from John Barricelli, The SoNo Baking Company Cookbook)
  • 1 1/2 c. ap flour
  • 1 t. baking soda
  • 1 t. kosher salt
  • 1/2 t. cinnamon
  • 1/2 t. ground ginger (or 1/2 T. grated fresh ginger)
  • 1/4 t. ground nutmeg
  • 1/2 t. ground cloves
  • 1 c. sugar (1/2 cup is plenty!)
  • 1/2 c. coconut oil (or part coconut part olive oil)
  • 2 eggs, room temperature
  • 15 oz. pumpkin puree (I just now noticed that the recipe called for half a can of pumpkin... I used a whole can equivalent, and I was more than happy with the results!)
  • 1/4 c. unsweetened applesauce
  • 1/2 c. raisins, optional (John suggests adding 1/2 c. nuts and/or chocolate chips as well)
  • 2 T. chia seeds, optional
Preheat oven to 375, with rack in middle position. Spray a standard 12 cup muffin tin, or butter generously.

In a medium bowl, whisk flour, baking soda, salt and spices together.

In a large bowl, whisk sugar, oil, eggs, pumpkin and applesauce together. Add the dry ingredients and fold until the mixture is well combined. Fold in raisins and chia seeds if using, and any other mix-ins.

Portion into muffin tin, about 1/4 c. per muffin (I use a disher). Bake for 20-25 minutes, until tester comes out clean.

Transfer pan to a rack to cool for 10 minutes. Then, using a knife as an aid, gently upturn the muffins onto their sides to cool completely in the pans.



Well, I guess the extra pumpkin I unknowingly added explains the incredibly soft and custard-like interiors... and why I got more than a dozen. I baked the remaining batter into bite-sized mini muffins, and Boy-O ate all 6 of them straight away, I ate the remaining 2. He was impatient for the bigger ones to cool, and couldn't wait to gobble up even more of them, so we know this is a good recipe.

Just as I was thinking I was "pumpkin-ed out", these beauties prove me wrong. I almost think that I could never be tired of pumpkin. Or muffins. Now that we're best friends again, the muffin and I have to have some more serious talks. If you have any varietals that I need to meet, please be sure to let me know. Meanwhile, it's almost cookieposter time... unless I decide to give Christmas Muffins this year. I doubt I'd hear any complaints if I use more of John Barricelli's recipes.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Daring Baker Challenge November 2010: Crostata

The 2010 November Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Simona of briciole. She chose to challenge Daring Bakers’ to make pasta frolla for a crostata. She used her own experience as a source, as well as information from Pellegrino Artusi’s Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well.



This was not actually the first crostata that I've made. I made a different version in March that was free-formed and filled with apricots and taleggio. This version of pasta frolla dough came from this month's host, Simona. Her website is full of Italian food history and excellent descriptions, and her introduction of this dessert for the month's challenge reflects it fully. Though she prefers a crostata filled with pastry cream, she remembers an aunt who filled hers with homemade jams. Seeing as I have lots of jam, I decided this would be the way to go for me, even if it isn't the most creative. I love that this dough is easy to make, delicious, and leaves very little to clean up.

The dough can be transformed into different sized crostatas, or simply be rolled into crisp cookies. It can be flavored with different zests, or essences, and can nuance whatever filling you prefer. Given the season, I chose orange zest. I also used Simona's proportions for using part whole wheat flour, which also lent a pleasant bitter note to the sweet jams I chose.



The dough is rolled between two sheets of plastic wrap, leaving very little to clean up. I made a full batch of the dough and decided to cut it in fourths. It was the perfect amount to fill my 6 inch tart tins, with just enough left over to create lattice designs for the top.



I've had quite a few sweets around lately, so the day I mixed up the dough I baked my first crostata using cranberry apple jam I had made last year. The dough baked up crisp and perfectly flaky - and my suspicions about the wheat adding enough bitterness to counteract the sweetness of that much jam were correct. I let the dough sit well wrapped several days before making another crostata and I'd have to say that it was still good but not quite as good as the first day it was made. I used plain strawberry jam in my second one, and decided to cut small circles to polka-dot the top. I jury-rigged a piping tip to use as a small enough cutter, but it worked just fine.

I think these jam-filled crostata would make the perfect ending to either a light meal or a heavy one. They are heavy, rich enough to complete a light meal. They would be great as a part of a dessert table for a sweet bite or two to end a nibbling dinner satiated and not wanting more. I also think that they would provide a well defined statement at the end of a heavy Autumn or Winter meal, when dense proteins and starches have filled you, and you just need a mouthful of something to call it a day. Not to mention, it's a way to use up some of the homemade jams I'm addicted to making. All in all, I'd say that the crostata could be my new favorite dessert!

I also love that the dough comes together exactly the same way as a pasta dough. You make a well in the dry ingredients, and then add the eggs. I do this in a bowl, just because of the size of my counters. Since Simona's directions are so concise and well written, I am leaving them at length.

Pasta Frolla (Simona at briciole)
1 9 or 9 1/2 inch tart tin, or several smaller tart tins (roughly 4 6 inch tart tins)
"
  • 1/2 c. minus 1 tablespoon [105 ml, 100 g, 3 ½ oz] superfine sugar (see Note 1) or a scant 3/4 cup [180ml, 90g, 3 oz] of powdered sugar
  • 1 and 3/4 cup [420 ml, 235 g, 8 1/4 oz.] unbleached all-purpose flour
  • a pinch of salt
  • 1 stick [8 tablespoons / 4 oz. / 115 g] cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  • grated zest of half a lemon (you could also use vanilla sugar as an option, see Note 2)
  • 1 large egg and 1 large egg yolk, lightly beaten in a small bowl
Note 1: Superfine sugar is often also referred to as ultrafine, baker’s sugar or caster sugar. It’s available in most supermarkets. If you cannot find “superfine” sugar, you can make your own by putting some regular granulated sugar in a food processor or blender and letting it run until the sugar is finely ground.

Note 2: There are different ways of making vanilla sugar. I keep vanilla beans in a jar half-filled with sugar until I need to use them, for example, to make vanilla ice cream. After I remove the split bean from the custard that will go into the ice cream maker, I rinse it, dry it and put it back in the jar with sugar.

Making pasta frolla by hand:

  1. Whisk together sugar, flour and salt in a bowl.
  2. Rub or cut the butter into the flour until the mixture has the consistency of coarse crumbs. You can do this in the bowl or on your work surface, using your fingertips or an implement of choice.
  3. Make a well in the center of the mounded flour and butter mixture and pour the beaten eggs into it (reserve about a teaspoon of the egg mixture for glazing purposes later on – place in the refrigerator, covered, until ready to use).
  4. Add the lemon zest to your flour/butter/egg mixture.
  5. Use a fork to incorporate the liquid into the solid ingredients, and then use your fingertips.
  6. Knead lightly just until the dough comes together into a ball.
  7. Shape the dough into a flat disk and wrap in plastic wrap. Place the dough in the refrigerator and chill for at least two hours. You can refrigerate the dough overnight.
Making pasta frolla with a food processor:
  1. Put sugar, flour, salt, and lemon zest in the food processor and pulse a few times to mix.
  2. Add butter and pulse a few times, until the mixture has the consistency of coarse meal.
  3. Empty food processor's bowl onto your work surface
  4. See step 3 above and continue as explained in the following steps (minus the lemon zest, which you have already added).

or Version 1 of pasta frolla:

If you want, you can make the pasta frolla using a combination of all-purpose flour and whole-wheat pastry flour.

If you choose to try this variation, use 1 cup [240 ml, 135 g, 4 3/4 oz.] unbleached all-purpose flour and 3/4 cup [180 ml, 100 g, 3.5 oz.] whole-wheat pastry flour.

Crostata di Marmellata (crostata with a jam filling using Version 1 pasta frolla)

If you choose to make a crostata with a jam filling, you will need:

  • 1 and 3/4 cups [415ml, 600 gm, 21 oz] of jam or fruit preserves, whatever flavor you like (Note: I use my homemade fruit preserves, which have a low sugar content. I recommend you choose a good quality product, made with mostly fruit.)

Assembling and baking the crostata di marmellata:

  1. Heat the oven to 375ºF [190ºC/gas mark 5].
  2. Take the pasta frolla out of the fridge, unwrap it and cut away ¼ of the dough. Reserve this dough to make the lattice top of the crostata. Refrigerate this dough while you work on the tart base.
  3. To help roll the crostata dough, keep the dough on top of the plastic wrap that you had it wrapped in. This can help rolling the dough and can also help when transferring the dough to your pan. You can also use parchment paper for this. However, you can also roll the dough directly on a work surface if you prefer.
  4. Lightly dust the top of the dough and your work surface (if you’re rolling directly on a work surface) with flour. Keep some flour handy to dust the dough as you go along.
  5. If the dough is very firm, start by pressing the dough with the rolling pin from the middle to each end, moving the rolling pin by a pin's width each time; turn the dough 180 degrees and repeat; when it softens, start rolling.
  6. Roll the dough into a circle about 1/8th inch (3 mm) thick.
  7. If you used the plastic wrap or parchment paper as rolling surface, flip dough over the pan, centering it, and delicately press it all around so the corners are well covered. Peel away the plastic wrap.
  8. Trim the excess dough hanging over the edges of the pan. Press the remaining dough around the border into the sides of the pan making sure the border is an even thickness all the way around.
  9. Prick the bottom of the dough with a fork in several places.
  10. Take out of the fridge the reserved pasta frolla you had cut away earlier. Roll it with your pin and cut into strips or use cookie cutters to make small shapes (this is not traditional, but it looks cute); or roll with your hands into ropes.
  11. Spread the jam or fruit preserves evenly over the bottom of the crostata.
  12. Use the prepared strips or rolls of dough to make a lattice over the surface, or decorate with the cut shapes. (Note: You can use dough scraps to make cookies: see the Additional Information section for some pointers)
  13. Brush the border and strips of dough with the reserved beaten eggs. You can add a drop or two of water to the beaten eggs if you don’t have enough liquid.
  14. Put the tart in the oven and bake for 25 minutes.
  15. After 25 minutes, check the tart and continue baking until the tart is of a nice golden hue. (Note: Every oven is different. In my oven it took 34 minutes to bake the tart until golden.)
  16. When done, remove the tart from the oven and let cool. If you have used a tart pan with a removable bottom, then release the tart base from the fluted tart ring. Make sure the tart is completely cool before slicing and serving."


I found one quarter of a 6 inch tart plenty enough dessert... and that is coming from a die hard dessert fiend. I suspect a pastry cream filled crostata would fill me up considerably less and be far less sweet. You can blind bake the crusts by lining them with foil and weighting them with pie weights. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes, then remove the weights and foil and continue baking for 5 minutes until lightly browned. Layer with pastry cream of your choice and top with fresh fruit. If you were Ina Garten, you would brush your fresh fruits with a tad of watered down peach or apricot jam to bring out their luster. I'll probably opt for this version in the Summertime.



I think I continue to be so interested in the Daring Baker Challenges because I'm always trying something new. I tend not to always want to take the time to make a pastry dough, but this month's challenge convinces me that it can be very easy and even not so messy. This is certainly a dessert I will reach for in the future, and one I would recommend to others. It's a perfect way to showcase some of your homemade jams, making even less work of this easily elegant dessert. Please be sure to drop by Simona's site and also to check out other Daring Baker's take on this month's challenge.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Vegan Monday: Pumpkin Coconut Bread



Just in time for Vegan Monday and Thanksgiving, I accidentally made this amazingly good quick bread. It was an accident because I didn't even know it was vegan.

Another of the things I have come to count on in my life, is that when I go to visit my Parents, there is usually a quick bread involved. It's ready when I come in, hungry with travel. It's ready when I need a little something sweet after dinner and before dessert. It's ready with the coffee when my early rising Mom quietly hits the kitchen long before I awake - she slices it in fat slices and cuts them in half, arranging them on a platter for quick grabbing when the rest of the household joins her in the kitchen.

There are numerous breads we enjoy, certainly banana bread and it's variations run a common thread throughout the year, taking care of any sad members that ripen too quickly on our counters. I was just thinking that it was about time to make Ina's Date Nut Spice Bread, a Fall favorite of mine, when I visited last weekend and found this tender pumpkin coconut bread waiting on the counter. My Mom found the recipe in her October co-op newsletter, and had it earmarked for awhile.


It's not a quick bread to me, if it doesn't have the hallmark cracked middle...

One reason my family may love quick breads is that so often, the recipes are written to make two loaves. When you don't know how many people will be dropping by, or if you wish to gift a loaf and eat one yourself, baking two loaves instead of just one is just plain economical. Hiding it in your freezer makes for an instant short notice treat, and giving one as a gift makes you just plain popular. This one was so good, I snapped a picture of the recipe with the iPhone, enhanced it in mobile Photoshop for easier reading, and planned my baking week around making it for Friday. I knew I had a taker for one of my two loaves, and wanted to wait for the end of the workweek, so it was fortunate that my Mom had baked two loaves. I had a half loaf gift to tide me over until I could bake it myself. It wasn't until I was actually mixing it up, that I noticed is was totally vegan.

Vegan baking can be tricky, since sometimes there isn't a whole lot of rise and the results can be too dense. Usually, a "healthy" tasting bread emerges, edible, but not fully enjoyed. This is not that bread. In fact, it is so moist and tender you would swear it was laden with butter. It probably helps that it is packed with sugar, but, c'mon... it's Thanksgiving! If you can pick one good time to indulge during the year, this is it. You could make half the recipe, but you may as well make two and give one to someone you love.



I think quick breads taste best at room temperature, but for longer storage, you can refrigerate it. If you slice them cold, the slices will be neater. The slices come back to room temperature fairly quickly, which is good for me since I do store it in the fridge. If I leave something like this sitting around on my counter, I tend to eat a bit every time I walk past it. I've got to "straighten those rows", you know.

Pumpkin Coconut Bread (originally called Coconut Pumpkin Nut Bread from the People's Food Co-Op newsletter)
makes 2 loaves, easily halved
  • 3 1/2 c. ap flour
  • 2 c. packed dark brown sugar
  • 2/3 c. white sugar
  • 1 15 oz. can pumpkin puree (scant 2 cups)
  • 1 c. vegetable oil
  • 2/3 c. coconut milk
  • 2 t. baking soda
  • 1 t. salt
  • 1 t. ground nutmeg
  • 1 1/2 t. ground cinnamon
  • 2/3 c. flaked coconut, I use unsweetened shredded Let's Do Organic!)
  • 1 c. toasted chopped walnuts
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two loaf pans, I used a spray with flour.

Combine flour, sugars, pumpkin, oil, coconut milk, baking soda salt and spices. Mix well until blended. Fold in coconut and nuts. Spread gently into prepared pans.

Bake for about 1 hour and 15 minutes, checking after an hour. Bake until toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Remove from oven, cover tightly with foil, and allow to steam for 10 minutes. Remove foil, remove from pans, and cool completely on a cooling rack.



If you are savvy (and I was not, but will remember to be next time...), you can make sure to cut the two pieces of foil large enough to wrap the finished breads in. I saved my steaming pieces for another use, but if you were short on foil, you could kill two birds with the one stone. I have never used this steaming technique before, but the bread is nice and moist, so I'm keeping it as a trick up my sleeve.

I like wrapping things in foil, and usually keep a roll of "heavy duty" on hand to use for the demands of opening and closing sometimes many times a day. I try to be neat about it, and usually use a wrapping that I learned from folding origami. There's something about a fresh shiny brick gracing my counter top, and it's even more exciting to know that something delicious is preserved from the elements beneath something as utilitarian as aluminum foil.



It also makes a good package for dropping off. So, weather you need a Thanksgiving morning treat or a little something to bring to a get-together, this is the bread for you. Vegan, or not, I promise you won't know the difference!

UPDATE 10/2011:

These also make great muffins, a whole batch makes 2 1/2 - 3 dozen, depending on how full you fill the tins. I have also made them easily with half the amount of sugar, and replaced the coconut milk with yogurt or milk in a pinch with fine results (though dairy milks will render them non-vegan).

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The Infamous Tennis Shoe Pastry.

Ok, Julia... this one's for you.



After reminiscing about the Spanish Bar Cake (Applesauce Cake) last week, which itself was a response to What Julia Ate's Applesauce Cake recipe, she commented about the tennis shoe coffee cakes of my youth. The mere mention spurred me on a mission to remember to get the recipe from my Mom. Since I was there over the weekend, I asked her for the recipe. It didn't take much prompting to "might as well just make it", and using the last half pound of butter in her fridge, I did just that. Julia will also be pleased that it is fairly almondy, since another thing that she and I have in common is our passion for Almond Extract. Perhaps she will make it using her homemade butter, something that's also on my list to do!

Driving up Friday afternoon, I was able to catch part of Food Friday on Wisconsin Public Radio (Radio Without Borders). The hour was devoted to Gourmet's Cookie Book, and featured Sarah Moulton, the longtime executive chef of Gourmet Magazine. The book highlights one cookie recipe for every year of the magazine's life, from 1941-2009. (You can listen to the hour in the archives from Friday 11/12/10.) I always like "vintage" recipes, and noting how things have changed over time. This book shows the fascinating progression of cookies from wartime rationing to luxury chocolate decadence. When my Mom found the yellowing card in an old recipe box, I knew right away that this must also be one such rationing recipe. I read and reread to be sure that there was no sugar in it - and there isn't. The only sweetener comes from the powdered sugar glaze drizzled over the top.



My Mom received this recipe when I was young (so likely, the '70's), from a woman named Ruth Peterson. It's technically called Danish Puff, but my Great Aunt always said they looked like a couple of tennis shoes. Maybe, but they are so good that they won't be around long enough for anyone to notice.

I'm actually glad that I was able to make this recipe at my Mom's house. Had I made it here, I would have employed the food pro to cut the butter into the flour and then how vintage would it have been? I love being reminded that the hands are my most valuable asset, and they served me just fine. In fact, I think they are key to the recipe, since the warmth of them aids in the formation of the base dough layer. Without warm hands, the dough would not come together with a mere 2 T. of water. Remember that when you are working the dough together the bowl, and you start to think that you need to add additional liquid.


"Tools were made, and born were hands." William Blake

When the dough (very sticky eventually, due to those warm hands) is formed, the tennis shoes are made:



It's easiest to roll the equal portions of dough into longish snakes and then use the heel of your palm to coax it into flat submission. And, try to use parchment paper, since it will make your life easier - though I'm fairly certain that it would not have been a necessity at the recipe's birth. The dough certainly has enough butter in it that it would not stick to a sheet pan.

The layer, or puff, part of the Danish Puff comes from a pate a choux type application. Mine didn't raise as much as my Mom remembered it raising, but she thinks perhaps she used a hand mixer to incorporate the eggs. I did not; I just stirred with a wooden spoon in classic pate a choux style. I may try the electric mixer next time and see what happens.


butter and water melted.


flour added.


eggs added.


Spread the "puff" over the dough base, close to the edges.

I will write the recipe as it is on the card. As the radio show pointed out, recipes used to assume that you knew how to cook and bake. But, that said, I know how to cook and bake, and I still asked my Mom how she used to do it. I'm betting that a fair number of vintage recipes are vague because one had someone to ask. Isn't that the best part of baking? Sharing... it's not just for kindergartners.

Danish Puff (Tennis Shoe Pastry)
  • 1 c. flour
  • 1/2 c. butter
  • 2 Tbsp water
  • 1/2 c. butter
  • 1 c. water
  • 1 t. almond (extract)
  • 1 c. flour
  • 3 eggs
"Measure first cup of flour into bowl. Cut in butter. Sprinkle with 2 Tbsp water. Mix with fork. Divide in half. Pat into 12"x3. Place 3" apart on ungreased baking sheet.

Mix second amount of butter and water (in a small to medium pot). Bring to boil. Remove from heat: add almond (extract). Beat in flour, stir quickly to prevent lumping. When smooth, add one egg at a time, beat well after each one. Divide in half, and spread evenly on each half of pastry.

bake 60 min.

Frost with a confectioner's sugar icing and sprinkle with nuts.
8-12 servings "



My icing also had almond extract in it, and next time, I'll probably add a bit more to the puff part. The baking time was exactly one hour. It turns a golden brown, and is puffed up when it's ready. Cool it completely before frosting, and sprinkle it with chopped nuts, in our case walnuts, before slicing into it. It really is a great coffee cake recipe, and after not having it for maybe 20 years, I can say that it is as I remember it: flaky and buttery, the center custardy and not so sweet, and gone by the end of the day.

Well, actually it was gone by the next morning, when just 3 little pieces remained. Somehow, my family adheres to the credo that little bites don't matter. At least, I do, and cut most desserts into smaller and smaller pieces until the "row is straightened" accordingly. This method is most often applied to our fudge making, when those rows just will not be straight, and a sharp knife deftly tries to even it out, scraps going directly to my hips...

Ahhh, the trappings of a dessert-eating family. We do what we can, right? And if we want to cut back on sugar, we just don't make dessert, because if it's there, it needs to be eaten.


Monday, November 15, 2010

Vegan Monday: Sourdough Flatbreads

Vegan Monday this week has to be totally bread related. I know that bread is my gig right now, and that I am living and breathing dough daily for the past two months. I am reading, simultaneously mind you, no less than 5 separate bread related books and I would be lying if I said that I could remember everything that I've been reading. Every baker has a different approach to bread, every sourdough cultivator a different feeding schedule and method. What I really love about experimenting with sourdough is that there are only three ingredients in my bread: starter, water and flour. That's it, and it can feed almost anyone. And it is amazing how tweaking the proportions even in the smallest degree changes the entire finished product.

I am beyond excited now that I have successfully converted, with success, several regular yeast recipes into sourdough starter recipes. If I run into you and start elaborating at length, please forgive me (and/or stop me). In part, I'm excited because the more I can incorporate the culture into my daily life, the less I have to wash away down the sink, and given my recent focus on waste, that makes me very happy. It would also make me very happy to share my starter, so once again, if you are local(ish), let me know and you can have some to experiment with yourself!

I think the key to my successful conversions is counting my sourdough starter as liquid, and adjusting the water in a recipe ratio accordingly. It also probably helps that I am an obsessive type, and regularly bake by weight and not by measure. I usually feed my starter equal weights of water and flour, keeping it roughly the consistency of pancake batter.

Earlier this summer, I had tried the Msemmen (Algerian Flatbread) recipe from the Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day book and loved the flavor. I had never seen a flatbread recipe that actually incorporated a spice mixture right into the dough, and being a spice fanatic, I loved it. The day after making the cauliflower pizza, I figured I would try a few of these breads with the leftover dough, and it worked out better than I imagined. The flatbread is called "msemmen", which is a Morrocan or Algerian bread that is almost like a crepe. From what I have read elsewhere, it is less pliable than traditional flatbread, maybe a bit more similar to a cracker.

This could be what I love most about cooking "ethnic" foods: I don't have a frame of reference, so I can infer all of the best things and from reading about food and countries and eat something I find truly delicious, that suits me alone. My apologies to those who have grown up eating this delicious staple, and on whose authorities I would likely change my opinion... But as of this writing, and short of taking a very long trip, it is unlikely that I could gain a frame of authenticity no matter how much I would LOVE to do so.



I made tortilla-sized breads, maybe about 6 or 7 inches across, but rolled them up the same way that Jeff and Zoe suggest in their book. I have scaled the recipe back here, but you can find the original recipe and conventional measures in the HBin5 book. If you are interested in adding more sourdough to your life, I hope my scribblings of a recipe will help!

I add only enough olive oil to the spice mix to make a thick paste. This way, it doesn't run out of the dough as much when it is rolled out. It is inevitable that some escapes, but it stains the bread a gorgeous deep turmeric yellow so I count it as a positive.

This is a lolly-gagging, beat-around-the-bush approach to writing a recipe, and I do apologize in advance. If you have a question, please ask! Since I am making far more work out of a quick and easy recipe, it seems par for the course... but really the work is in the natural yeast taking longer to do what it needs to. If you do give the dough time to rest in the refrigerator overnight, you will have more "sour" flavor in the sourdough.


Coiled doughs, resting.

Sourdough Msemmen (adapted from Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day)
makes about 10 flatbreads
(Begin the dough the day before you'd like to bake the breads...)
  • 180 grams whole wheat flour (6.25 oz.)
  • 67.5 grams AP flour (2.5 oz.)
  • 1 t. kosher salt
  • 1 T. vital wheat gluten
  • 80 grams sourdough starter (heaping 1/4 c. or 2.8 oz.)
  • 145 grams water, room temperature (5.11 oz.)
(The total amount of liquid for the recipe should equal roughly 225 grams or 8 oz. ) In a small bowl, I first measure in my starter, and add liquid to come up to the correct weight. Stir the starter well with the water to emulsify, then add to the dry ingredients. Correct with additional water if the dough seems too dry, but remember than the dough will slacken some with the long rising time. You don't really have to knead the dough, but I like to turn it over several times in it's bowl to make a cohesive ball of dough. Let rest until double in size, about 8 hours depending on the strength of your starter. At this point you can refrigerate the dough. (I haven't attempted any longer term storage, but left the dough under refrigeration for a day, and had positive results.)

for the spice paste:
  • olive oil
  • 1 t. ground cumin
  • 1 t. paprika
  • 1 t. turmeric
  • 1/2 t. cayenne pepper
  • 1/2 t. salt, to taste
Mix all the spices in a small dish, and add oil enough to make a semi-liquid paste.

When the dough is raised, you can make the breads right away, but since mine was refrigerated, I took out the dough and pinched off golf ball sized pieces. I formed them quickly into balls, taking care not to deflate the dough too much. Just try and be gentle. Then, I let them under a towel for at least a half hour. Roll each ball into a thin round, spread with the spice mix to within an inch of the sides, and then roll up the round tightly like a cigar. Then, coil the cigar tightly onto itself to form a "cinnamon roll looking shape". Let these coils rest on an oiled sheet for about 20 minutes.

When ready to bake, heat a cast iron skillet over medium heat until a drop of water sizzles when tested. (I did not need to grease my pan at all, since I have a very well seasoned one.) Roll the coil out into a thin round and don't worry if some of the spice mix escapes. Use a bit of flour to keep it from sticking as you roll, but try not to add too much. Transfer to the pan and bake until small bubbles form on the surface of the bread. Flip, and continue cooking on the second side until deep brown speckles form, maybe a minute or two. (I covered the pan with the lid of a larger, non-related pan during the cooking of the first side. I don't know why, but I figured it would make it more tender. You wouldn't have to - it boils down to doing it how you like!)

A good rule of thumb for handling this dough is to treat it gently. It is fragile, or at least I pretended it was and it worked for me. Wheat flour has far less gluten in it that regular old white flour, and there is but a whisper of the white stuff in this dough. You can't hurt by erring on the side of caution.




I think, since I was raised on them, I equate all things baked in a cast iron skillet to tortillas. My Mom's version unmatched still by anything I have ever made or likely will make. She does not measure, but the flour tortillas are so light and tender, fully floppy and studded with brown 'beauty spots'. I tend to compare everything round to them, even things like this that are not really that similar, just to see how they stack up.

These are tender in spots and crisp in others, spicy with cayenne (heavy on that, in my case...) and interesting in general. They separate into layers due to how they are coiled and then rolled, and I am amazed that they are still soft at all after the beating they seem to take with the rolling pin. I ate them for lunch with ample amounts of hummus I made using roasted red peppers I had made in advance and frozen (I do about 10 lbs of them late every summer, and then use them throughout the year), and with garbanzos I had pressure cooked a month ago and frozen. With totally unrelated, but no less delicious, chile marinated olives from Outpost, I was in vegan dining bliss.

Had I had some cucumber and tomato, maybe some lettuces, I could have served it to others as a main course. But for me, bread alone is worthy of a meal. Simple, yes, but wholesome and satisfying - and now successful which makes it even better.



These two that were leftovers were cooled several hours and then cut into wedges and polished off when SS came for dinner later that evening. We had pizza for supper, since I did make the Lahey Cauliflower pizza again using the traditional Lahey crust. I have officially crossed it off my list. I may just have to try more Lahey recipes using the sourdough starter. I can't help it. It's in my blood now.


UPDATE:
I tried making a version of these using this leftover sourdough dough that I had in the refrigerator for several days. The dough is from Burp! blog, and it also makes great pizza. I didn't even let it come to room temperature, I just broke off a couple balls of dough, and rolled them out as described above. They puffed up and made a more puffy flatbread, but they were delicious! Creamy inside, with a nice, brittle crunch to the outside - I'll definitely make them again soon. Pictures here.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The Lahey Project (kinda...): Cauliflower Pizza



Being in the throes of sourdough, I have lately abandoned my Lahey Project fervor. I have not forgotten dear Jim, since yesterday I produced my best loaf of sourdough to date using his ratio (in metric) of flour to water, and counting a heaping 1/4 c. of my starter in the liquid part of the equation. When I saw this Habenero Apple Jelly recipe today, I knew I had to rush off to my favorite apple vendor at the farmer's market in West Allis to get some cider - and while I was there I couldn't pass up a yellow cauliflower. One thing always leads to another, doesn't it?

Even though I have ample things to eat, I know that the winter season will soon be upon us and then that yellow cauliflower will then be the only thing I can think of: so often is that the case when I don't give in to instant gratification. And, while I'm at it, if I'm going to be instantly gratified, it behooves my healthfulness to include a cauliflower. High in vitamin C and fiber, and full of cancer fighting phytochemicals, the yellow version shouldn't actually taste much different than a milky white varietal. I swear that the yellow version is gentler and much more sophisticated. But then again, it's probably just the divine combination of ingredients that comprise a Lahey pizza...



Long before the purchase of said cauliflower, I had started a whole wheat dough this morning using my sourdough starter. I applied the same idea of counting a heaping 1/4 c. of starter as a liquid, and tried a mostly wheat "no knead" dough from Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day. I own this book, and was initially very excited with it (before Laheyitis set in...). The premise of both Artisan Bread in Five books is that you are able to mix up a large batch of no knead dough, and then bake with it for a week or longer. The bread is good, and the time saving is valid for those who may be busy. But after trying my first bite of Lahey bread made with a minuscule amount of yeast, I couldn't go back to stored dough; my new breads developed much more flavor over that longer period of fermentation time.

I also have the luxury of pretty much babysitting any dough project since I work in the home... and there is a very satisfying reward for me personally to be able to bake on demand and set my alarm clock for the middle of the night or supremely early in the morning to attend to such needs of experimentation. It's kind of funny that here I am, trying to take a simple method and make it more laborious, but that is what I do I guess. There are a lot of great recipes in the Artisan Bread books, and now that I know I can make more work for myself, I may set out trying to replicate more of them using a longer, single baking approach.

I scaled back the HBin5 master bread dough recipe to 1/4 of it's intended amount (fairly easy, since the book lists metric weights for the master recipe) using my starter, and compensated for having ALL of my windows open for most of this unseasonably warm November day by leaving the dough in my oven with the light on to raise for about 8 hours. It was ready by dinner time, and by then I had this gorgeous cauliflower. Though I may be stretching to count it in my Lahey Project, I used the recipe for the topping from My Bread.


The dough was super sticky, so I rolled it super thin on a piece of parchment, and baked it on a stone at 500 degrees. When the dough "set", I slid the parchment out from underneath.

Brilliance. The mandolined cauliflower tossed with green olives (I "borrowed" queen sized manzanillas from my in-laws), chile flake, fresh garlic, Parmesan cheese and a trace of olive oil. The dough was nice and crisp - but to be honest, I was so enamored of the topping it was clearly in the backseat. I saved the rest of my dough in the fridge to play with tomorrow - and am figuring that I'll likely make the second half of the cauliflower into another pizza tomorrow night, dutifully complete with Lahey crust.

(Oh, and I forgot to mention that this cauliflower pizza is topped with breadcrumbs. Beautiful, uniformly dusty breadcrumbs now thanks to the VitaMix! But breadcrumbs of any size or shape and added to the top of any pizza just prior to baking are probably only going to enhance your outcome, and that is just one thing I have learned from Jim Lahey.)



The only enhancement that can make a Lahey Pizza better in my eyes is some heat. Even with the ample chile flake my heavy hands added, pizza in my book needs to be consumed with peppers alongside. My candied jalapenos were perfect, and I ate a slice with each bite until my eyes were hot and nearly watering. Not so much watering as "sweating". I've said it before and I'll say it again, you know it's good when your eyes sweat.

The End.


Monday, November 8, 2010

Vegan Monday: Tofu Scramble (and Bonus: Sweet Potato Smoothie)



I sometimes wonder if my library sees my check-out trends and stocks new books just for me. On our weekly trips to the library, Boy-O usually dictates the time that I can spend looking at books for myself, but usually is able to use his "library voice" long enough for me to at least peruse the New Books shelf. Last week, I was excited to find a brand new vegan cookbook: The Vegan Table by Colleen Patrick-Goudreau.

Colleen's book is a guide to vegan entertaining, and recipes are organized seasonally and by occasion. It's full of great photography and recipes, exactly the type of cookbook that I can read cover to cover and then drop into my endless Amazon cart since I know it will continue to be an inspirational addition to my kitchen library.

So, early this morning when I was "Vegan Mondayless", and awake bright-eyed at 6 AM instead of bleary-eyed at 7 thanks to that daylight savings time, I decided that I had to make a tofu scramble for breakfast. Tofu scrambles, or the vegan approach to scrambled eggs, are things that I've eaten out numerous times, but for some reason have never made at home. The scramble in The Vegan Table looked so good when reading about it late last night, and since I had it on two accounts with recently reading a similar recipe in the VitaMix cookbook, I felt more than confident that a good breakfast would ensue. Well, needless to say, I loved it... and now know that I will probably be making it a lot using up all kinds of different veggies.



Now, I should note that I wish I had a bottomless appetite. The truth is, it usually doesn't take much to fill me up. I used a half recipe (amount from The Vegan Table) which should have fed me, one person, but it actually could have fed me twice. That's OK, since now I have tomorrow's breakfast taken care of...

Vegan Tofu Scramble (adapted from The Vegan Table and the Vita-Mix cookbooks)
serves 1-2, easily doubled
  • 8 oz. firm tofu, crumbled (not silken)
  • 1 T. olive oil or water
  • 1/2 onion, chopped
  • 10 crimini mushrooms, chopped
  • 1/2 - 1 red or green (or some of each) pepper, chopped
  • 1 clove garlic, minced (or pinch of granulated garlic)
  • 2-3 leaves fresh spinach, coarsely chopped
  • 1/4 t. turmeric
  • 1/2 t. cumin
  • 1/4 t. paprika
  • 1 T. nutritional yeast
  • salt and pepper
  • (optionals: chopped jalapenos, diced tomatoes or salsa, red chile flakes... etc.)
Heat olive oil or water in a large pan over medium high heat. Saute onion, mushrooms, garlic and pepper(s) until softened. Stir in crumbled tofu, spices, nutritional yeast and spinach, and saute about 5 minutes until tofu is bright yellow, and heated through. Season with salt and pepper.

I ate half of the above portion with a Black Bean Tortilla that I had made the other day using some leftover pinto beans. The tortillas are also vegan and freeze well.


Tomorrow's breakfast.

Happily working through my morning organizing my house and paring down clutter before Winter comes, I eagerly anticipated this smoothie for lunchtime. Yesterday afternoon, I roasted some sweet potatoes (whole, in their skins at 400 degrees for about an hour) with this recipe in mind. It is in the VitaMix cookbook, and I never would have imagined how delicious it is. So good in fact, that even if you don't have a VitaMix, it would be worth trying to approximate in a food pro or with an immersion blender. But hey, if you live in Milwaukee, just stop in so you can share one with me!

Autumn Sweet Potato Smoothie (VitaMix cookbook)
makes 2 generous cups (I drank one glass, and saved one glass for later...)
  • 1 c. red grapes
  • 1/2 medium orange, peeled
  • 1/2 sweet potato, cooked and cooled
  • 1/2 medium apple, halved
  • 1/4 c. fresh or frozen cranberries
  • 1/2 t. fresh ginger root (I love ginger, so I used a two inch section of ginger root, roughly chopped)
  • 2 whole pitted dates
  • 2 c. ice cubes
  • (I also added about 1/4 c. water)
"Place all ingredients into the VitaMix container in the order listed and secure lid. Select Variable 1. Turn machine on and quickly increase speed to Variable 10, then to High. Blend for 1 minute, or until desired consistency is reached."



Every once in a while, one part of a whole makes me feel like alone it is worth the price of admission. That is how this smoothie is. Like if it was the only thing I ever made in my new machine, it would be fully worth astronomical VitaMix pricing. (Though, in all reality, I couldn't be happier with my machine. It stands up to it's hype, is worth it's price, and impresses me daily - so consider me a proud spokesperson!)

I was thinking about Mark Bittman today, and how he likes to "go vegan until 6 PM". I guess that would be 5 PM central time, and I'm well on my way for today anyway. It is an intriguing idea for those of us omnivores who tend to be heavy on the veg side of things. If it wasn't for my leftovers, that often loom large for me to clobber days after a meal if I forget to appropriately scale down, I would certainly be able to commit to this diet myself!

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Long Term Storage: Canning Rolled Oats.



It may not seem noteworthy to think about stocking dry goods in bulk, but I'd like to make a note of it anyway. For the me who is now an urban dweller, the phrase "making hay while the sun shines" doesn't hold the same feeling as it did when I lived rurally. I think back to when I first moved to the city, and only went to the grocery store every 3 weeks or so. This was the way we always shopped as I grew up, and for many years, it didn't occur to me that I could shop a few times a week if I wanted. Rurally, there wasn't really an option of running to get one forgotten ingredient, or just swinging by the store on the way home. Well, as I grew older, there was the option, but the store likely didn't have what you needed anyway. The small community closest to our home during my teenage years was really a place to get the occasional banana or box of cereal, and even then was very expensive. We tended to live off the pantry, and one shopping trip "to the city" every month.

In my adult life, my personal focus on preservation tends to be on things that were staples to me growing up: most specifically dill pickles, applesauce and tomatoes. Every year, I seem to add things that I now can't live without, Marisa's dilly beans and candied jalapenos for starters. This year lacto-fermentation was on the docket, and depending on the shelf lilfe, which has yet to be determined, I can see doing a lot more of it in the future. But no matter how much I feel like I have already preserved, I feel like I can always do more, like I am a "hoarder" of good whole food. Bulk (dry) storage hasn't really even been in the back of my mind, but it is always nice to know that I have bulk grains and now even raw sugar stashed in the basement.

When most of the year, organic oats at the co-op run near $1.50 a pound, I now seldom bat an eye knowing full well that I have quart jars full and sealed, just waiting for my breakfast and baking needs. Between my Mom and I, we usually secure a much lower price by buying in bulk - usually 50 lb. bags from her co-op in LaCrosse. In years past, my Mom would can the dry rolled oats, and then I would barter them from her, usually with pounds of Alterra coffee and quarts of toasty granola.

But recently, I was able to secure the best price on rolled oats from my co-op, so I purchased 60 pounds at 89 cents a pound, and am dry pack canning 30 pounds myself for the first time. My Mom has dry canned oats for several years, and really it is the easiest thing. Simply heat the oven to a low 225 degrees, fill quart jars with oats to within 1/4 inch of the top, and top with lids and rings. The jars can "bake" on their sides for 45-60 minutes. Remove from the oven, stand them carefully upright, and be patient for the "pop" of the lids. It takes just a bit longer (or, requires a bit more patience) to hear than the pop of the water bathed or pressure canned goods, but once sealed, it's a great feeling to know that the oats are safely sealed from moisture and pests. If you have some that don't seal, you can use them first. (My first batch of 12 quarts, or 10 lbs. of rolled oats had 4 non-sealing quarts. On my next batch, I plan to gently wipe the rims with a clean, lint free cloth to see if I can improve my sealant ratio.)


Outpost conveniently packaged the sale oats in 10 pound bags, easier on my back...

Upon a bit of research, I have found that dry pack canning can also be done in tin, and with any dry good that is less than 10% moisture. I like the idea of storing in glass, and have ample glass jars to use. Tin cans also require the use of specialized sealing equipment that may be available to rent in some areas. If you are interested in keeping the food "raw", this site recommends packing the jars with moisture absorbers, and avoiding any heating process. It seems to me that this method would be preferred for those trying to preserve the growing power in grains or beans, since you would not compromise their vitality.

Dry pack canning in the oven is also a good way to preserve nuts, though I have not tried it yet. I think I may try it with raw nuts and see how much "roasting" I get by the low oven temperature. Last year at Christmas, I made a few batches of these delicious nuts from Food in Jars - and I am curious if I could seal them using the dry pack method. I'll be sure to update this post after my experiments...



Update: 11/9/2010

Last night, I sealed another 12 jars (11 quarts, and 1 half gallon jar) using the same dry pack method described above, and achieved 100% sealing. Before fixing on the lids and rings, I brought the lids to a boil, and let them sit for 10 minutes to soften the seals. I also wiped the tops of the jars with a lint free cloth before topping them with the lids and rings.

When canning in a water bath or under pressure, you should never disturb the jars as they cool. But since we are talking about sealing a dry good, there are no such issues to be concerned with. When the jars were nearly room temp, and some still had not sealed, I borrowed a technique no longer recommended for jam making: I turned them upside down. I think I had 5 jars that I inverted, and by this morning, all of them had sealed. (My sealant test is to lift each jar by the lid only.)

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Applesauce Cake, a.k.a. Spanish Bar Cake.


Growing up, it is safe to say that we were a dessert family. There was a Boston Baked Bean crock, seldom devoid of cookies, that had permanence on the edge of the kitchen counter. I could usually hear the telltale rattle of the pottery lid just after my Dad would step in the door from work. Now that I'm an adult and a parent myself, I can appreciate that my Parents wouldn't ordinarily let us kids indulge before supper ourselves. I think of Jerry Seinfeld saying " as adults we understand, even if you ruin an appetite, there's another appetite". If we adults want, we can go ahead and squander our current one on as many cookies as we can hold.

That, my friends, is probably why I don't keep a cookie jar, and save the bulk of my cookie baking for Christmastime. Cookies are just too small and bite sized for me to resist. Cake, however, I am (usually) dutifully able to ignore until after dinnertime, when proper adults who have eaten responsibly for the day are free to indulge. While the family of my childhood always had cookies at the ready, my Mom also frequently had other desserts for those of us who ate our dinners. Cake, pie, kuchens, coffee cakes that were flaky and shaped like enormous tennis shoes (oh, but they were sooooo good!), fruit cobblers or crisps, rice puddings or tapioca. Seldom were we to end the evening without a few bites of something sweet.

One dessert that my Mom often made, also a favorite of my Gram, was this applesauce cake. They both made it in a 9x13 aluminum lidded pan, also with the telltale lid rattle I could hear from a mile away. Most families have a cake or two like this, ones that are made entirely of pantry staples and remind them instantly of home. For me this is that cake. While I most love chocolate cake, this is the cake that takes me straight back to the Northwoods, my Gram's kitchen. Her silver percolator of coffee hot, and this out of the oven just long enough to be frosted in maple cream cheese frosting. We had plate sized pieces, the bunch of us satisfying that Mendez sweet tooth heartily - and with ample amounts of vanilla ice cream alongside it no doubt.

My Mom grew up in Chicago area, a south suburb that at the time was almost rural. She remembers her dad picking up a cake similar to this at the A&P every Sunday and it was called Spanish Bar Cake. My grandfather was Mexican, so when she told me this years ago, I just figured it was something that he affectionately called this moist applesauce cake and didn't consider that the A&P store did actually have a cake of the same name. It's also true I hardly know what an A&P store was, since where I grew up there were no such things.

It's unclear to me the exact origins of our cake recipe. The A&P version (according to many Google perusals) was a dark spice cake with a fluffy, white frosting. Some recipes use molasses or a tablespoon or two of cocoa powder, but all use applesauce and shortening or oil and no butter. Most are studded with varying amounts of walnuts and/or raisins. I'm certain our version comes from a newspaper somewhere over the years, and was written down in my Gram's lovely cursive on a 3x5 index card that has yellowed and browned over time. Our instructions call for the use of a pint of applesauce, since my Gram's tree had, and still has, the best of the best apples for sauce.


Last year's applesauce, from Gram's tree... just a few pints remain before the 2010 batch kicks off.



This cake is topped with a cream cheese frosting flavored with the artificial maple flavoring, Mapleine. As far as the fake stuff goes, it is my favorite. It's a molasses-black bottle made by Crescent and it really isn't all that artificial. It's caramel colorant makes the otherwise snowy frosting into a rich, fall-like color, and it's syrupy sweet maple essence is the key to the Mendez version of Spanish Bar Cake. I was also able to make powdered sugar out of my raw sugar for the first time thanks to the new VitaMix. Even though it was completely powdered, the finished frosting had that crystalline raw sugar bite that I really love. I think everyone in my family knows how to make this frosting, and we never measure, we just add liquid and powdered sugar until the frosting feels like frosting. I will approximate the amounts below.

.

Spanish Bar Cake (a.k.a. Applesauce Cake)
one 9x13 pan (easily halved for a 9x9 inch pan)
  • 2 1/2 c. ap flour
  • 2 c. sugar (I used raw)
  • 1/4 t. baking powder
  • 1 1/2 t. baking soda
  • 3/4 t. cinnamon
  • 1/2 t. cloves
  • 1/2 t. allspice
  • 1/2 c. shortening or equivalent oil (I used coconut oil)
  • 1/2 c. water (I used raw apple cider I had on hand)
  • 1 pint applesauce (approximately 2 cups)
  • 2 eggs
  • 1 c. raisins
  • 1/2 c. walnuts, chopped (or more)
Preheat oven to 350.

Sift or mix the dry ingredients in a large bowl. Mix the wet ingredients (I melted my coconut oil first) in a medium bowl. Add wet ingredients to dry, and stir until well incorporated but do not over mix. Fold in the raisins and walnuts.

Spread into a 9x13 inch pan and bake for 25-35 minutes. Cake is done when tester comes out clean, and the top is lightly browned. (Time varies depending on the size and variety of your pan.)

Cool completely, and frost with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting (follows).

Maple Cream Cheese Frosting:
  • 4 oz. cream cheese, softened
  • powdered sugar (3-4 cups more for thicker frosting layer)
  • milk (2-3 T.)
  • 1/2 t. (or more) Mapleine
  • (optional 1-2 T. butter)
Using a hand mixer (or by hand), beat the cream cheese and optional butter until well mixed. Add Mapleine and enough powdered sugar to create a thick frosting. Thin with a bit of milk, and correct with additional powdered sugar should it get too runny.

(I made a sourdough version of this cake as well!)


Many similar recipes call for soaking the raisins, but I don't bother.

These days, I half the recipe and make it in a 9x9 glass baking dish, since I have one boy who won't eat any sweets, and one who eats far too many. I find it's the best way. Not to mention, I would totally eat a 9x13 pan of this cake and it's better to just resist temptation at the baking stage.

I've been thinking about this cake a lot lately, ever since Julia posted her version of the Applesauce Cake. Admittedly, hers is more virtuous in the sugars department (frosting free and all), but I have to wonder if way on down the line, we are using the same recipe. Like language and nomads, recipes have a way of circumnavigation that is mind boggling. I wonder when just exactly it was that I first ate this cake myself, and now that I've set it free into Internetdom, where it will end up next, and for how many generations. I think about the staple foods of my life, the simple things like apples and how some years, the tree didn't produce. Somehow, there was always enough sauce to get by until the next harvest. Who planted that tree - and how old is it? We don't even know the variety of the apples...yet there were always plenty for everyone who needed them.

Pleasant questions for a chilly day - the stuff my daydreaming is made up of. Tomorrow morning, you can think of me with my coffee and perhaps a plate sized piece of this cake for breakfast, since after all - I am an adult, and there will be more appetites. I can always be more responsible the day after tomorrow.