10.26.2010

Baked Explorations and Whoopie Pies

As a devoted follower of Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito, owners of the Baked bakeries and writers of the indispensable cookbook of the same name, I could not wait to get my hands on their newest project, Baked Explorations.



"A tribute to beloved American desserts," Baked Explorations is a lovely book full of classic treats such as Cornmeal Griddle Cakes and Mississippi Mud Pie, as well as "abandoned desserts" like Boston Cream Pie and Pecan Tassies.

In the few short weeks since I brought it home, I've made their Honey Corn Muffins, Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting, and Chocolate Whoopie Pies. All have proved delicious and easy to make with standard pantry staples. The only exception was the Whoopie Pies: I'd run out of canola oil and didn't want to make fresh coffee, so I used blood-orange olive oil and hot water as substitutions.



Chocolate-Blood-Orange-Olive-Oil Whoopie Pies (gently altered from the original)
Makes about 30 small pies

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees
Line two half-sheet pans with parchment paper

For the cookies:

• In a large bowl, whisk together 3/4 cup Valrhona cocoa powder and 2 tsp. instant espresso. Add 1 cup hot water (original recipe calls for 1/2 cup hot coffee and 1/2 cup hot water) and whisk to mix. Set aside to cool a little.
• In another bowl, whisk together 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, 1/2 tsp. salt, 1 1/4 tsp. baking powder, and 1 1/4 tsp. baking soda. Set aside.
• To the cocoa/coffee mixture, whisk in 2 cups firmly packed light brown sugar and 3/4 cup blood-orange olive oil (original recipe calls for canola oil). I get mine from Stonehouse. Mix well, then add in 1 large egg, 1 tsp. vanilla extract, and 1/2 cup buttermilk and whisk until smooth.
• Gently fold the dry ingredients into the wet until incorporated.
• Using a small ice cream scoop or a teaspoon, drop mounds of dough, about 1 inch apart, on the parchment-covered baking sheets.
• Bake the cookies for 10-15 minutes until they just begin to crack on top and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
• Let cool completely while making the filling

For the filling (I like less filling, so I cut, from the original recipe, the eggs from 5 to 3 and the sugar from 1 1/2 cups to 3/4 cup):

• Set out 2 sticks of refrigerator-cold unsalted butter, cut up into small chunks, to let warm a bit.
• In the bowl of a stand mixer, whisk together the whites of 3 eggs with 3/4 cup sugar. Set bowl over a pan of simmering water and gently whisk until the sugar has dissolved and the mixture is hot to the touch. Remove from the heat, attach to the mixer, and, with the whisk attachment, beat until the bowl is cool to the touch and you have a nice, billowy, white meringue.
• Switch to the paddle attachment. With the mixer on medium-low, add in the butter, a few chunks at a time, until all is incorporated. Turn the mixer to medium-high and mix for five minutes. Don't worry if the buttercream starts to fall apart—it will come back together.
• Mix in 1 tsp. of vanilla extract and 1/4 tsp. salt until well incorporated

To assemble:

Using a small offset spatula, or the like, spread a dollop of the buttercream on one cookie, top with another. Repeat with remaining cookies.

10.21.2010

Wedding Cakes!

After months of planning and crafting and hair-pulling, I’m now a fully-licensed married woman and, thankfully, may resume my normal life.

It was a beautiful wedding followed by a wonderful party, and there were seven cakes.

Yep, seven.

The important thing is different for all. For some it’s the dress, for others, it’s the music. For me, it was the cake. This was verified by the fact that, after I got engaged, the first question asked—even before “when’s the big day?”— was “are you going to bake your own wedding cake?”

Was I?

And I get just one?

A great Gastronomica article on the history of the wedding cake mentions an old superstition: “The bride who bakes her own cake is asking for trouble.” While I certainly didn’t want trouble, I knew it wouldn’t be my wedding if I didn’t bake something. Yet I also knew that, for me, baking a cake for 150 people while actually being the one getting married would be more than trouble—it would be cause for a breakdown.

As I was sure I’d find many more reasons to fall apart over the coming months, a compromise was made: I would bake “something” and a professional would bake “something.” Those “somethings” turned into seven: four Orange Flower Water Cakes that I baked (ahead of time and froze) and three wonders made by my girl-crush, Betsy of Nine Cakes: an Almond Cake with Pear Buttercream, a Chocolate Cake with Pomegranate Buttercream, and a Pumpkin Walnut Cake with Maple Buttercream...


Photo by Jen Causey

Trouble? Hardly any.
Breakdowns? Two.