Showing posts with label cake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cake. Show all posts

Fancy Schmancy White Chocolate Champagne Layer Cake, At Last



Enough is enough already! My graduation cake has been dutifully transferred from fridge to freezer to preserve its integrity (really, it’s a sin that there’s any left over to go in the freezer at all, but such are the habits of my family when it comes to my baked goods – and I can only eat so much cake myself at any given time), and that means this post is long overdue. This cake…oohhh, this cake. My uncle ate 2 slices at my party. I sure as heck wanted to eat 2 slices at my party. I considered making a smaller cake for fear that we wouldn’t go through a full one, and that full-size cake was just shy of devoured in 20 very short minutes. Maybe less. This is just ultimate indulgence in cake form. It’s the reason why full-fat, full-sugar is sometimes necessary in life. This cake would not exist in a world of diet food, and as much as I love fresh vegetables and minimally sweetened oatmeal, that is just not a world in which I care to live.

This cake is a four-layer cake, divided between the glorious flavors of white chocolate butter cake and champagne sponge. Both are subtle and they blend together into one unbelievable cake so, so beautifully. The fresh strawberries on top and the deep chocolate ganache in between the layers give pops of vibrance to an otherwise pure white cake. The ganache is barely sweet, adding a depth to the cake and cutting the sweetness to be anything but cloying. The white chocolate layers are slightly denser than the fluffy champagne sponge layers, giving it a quiet complexity without calling too much attention to the different textures themselves. It reminds me of the white chocolate cake I made for my sister’s graduation party two years ago, which was received equally well. Both were labors of love – this is no cake walk, as you can tell by the 3 ½ page recipe below, but you also don’t need to be a seasoned baker to make it. Well, maybe you do – although people claimed it looked straight from a bakery, I (my own worst critic) saw the leaning-tower-of-pisa action resulting from a harried car ride to the party, and scrunched up my nose at the drippings from the strawberries, which macerated slightly under the champagne syrup glaze. So my decorating skills could use some work, my finesse could use some finesse-ing, but if the cake that I put on the table can elicit such complimentary responses, I know yours can, too. So maybe you need to be a seasoned baker, much moreso than I am, to perfect the presentation of this cake. But you certainly don’t need overwhelming experience to impress both the people you’re serving and your own taste buds. You just need fortitude, a positive attitude and, well, a veryfree schedule.


One Year Ago: Pasta with Meat Sauce

White Chocolate Champagne Layer Cake
This layer cake is sophisticated and indulgent, and is sure to steal the show wherever you take it. It’s sweet as dessert should be, but not so much as to be a turn off. It’s rich, so a smaller slice is certainly enough, but I double dare you not to go back for more anyway.

Yield: 1 8-inch layer cake, approximately 16 servings
Prep Time: Don’t think about it. Just don’t. This is a commitment. Don’t make this cake if you’re concerned about prep time. But if you really want to know, I’d say it’d take about…3-4 hours of prep time, start to finish. I didn’t time it. I did it over the course of 3 days: (1) Make the batter & bake the cakes (2) Make the filling and frosting (3) Assemble the cake. It’s worth it, I promise. It really is.
Cook Time: 1 hour, approximate

The Ingredients, White Chocolate Cake
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon baking powder
3 ounces white chocolate, chopped
¼ cup hot water
1 cup low-fat milk
1 tablespoon lemon juice
½ cup butter, softened
¾ cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tablespoon white chocolate liquor

The Ingredients, Champagne Sponge Cake
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sifted cake flour
½ tablespoon baking powder
4 eggs, separated
¾ cup sugar, divided
2 ½ tablespoons vegetable oil
¾ teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons champagne

The Ingredients, Chocolate Ganache Filling
4 ounces unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped
½ cup plus 1 tablespoon heavy cream
2 tablespoons room-temperature butter, cut in half
2 tablespoons powdered sugar

The Ingredients, White Chocolate Buttercream
1 cup butter, softened
3 cups powdered sugar
2 tablespoons white chocolate liquor

The Ingredients, Assembly
1 pint fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced thinly vertically
¼ cup champagne
1 ounce white chocolate, chopped

The Method
Prepare the white chocolate cake: preheat the oven to 350° Fahrenheit and grease two 8x1 ½ inch round pans, lining the bottoms with cut-out parchment rounds. Sift together  the all-purpose flour, baking soda, and baking powder. Meanwhile, melt the white chocolate using a double-boiler method along with the hot water, stirring until fully melted and smooth. Set aside to cool t room temperature. Mix together milk with lemon juice and set aside to sour slightly.

Cream butter with sugar until light and fluffy, at least 5 minutes. Add in the eggs, one at a time, allowing full incorporation between each addition. By hand, alternate stirring in the flour mixture and homemade buttermilk. When both are completely mixed in, stir in the melted and cooled white chocolate, followed by the white chocolate liquor. Divide the mixtures evenly between the two prepared pans and bake in the oven 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean from the center. Cool completely in pans.

Prepare the champagne sponge cake:  reduce the oven temperature to 325° Fahrenheit. Grease and line bottom with parchment either two 8x1 ½ inch pans or one 9x3 inch pan1 and set aside. Briefly whisk together the cake flour and baking powder in a small bowl and set aside.

Beat the egg whites until they become foamy, then add in 2 tablespoons of sugar and increase the speed to medium-high to form stiff peaks. Set aside the whipped whites in a separate bowl and rinse and dry out the mixing bowl. Switch to the paddle attachment and beat the yolks with the remaining sugar – 1 cup plus 6 tablespoons – oil and vanilla. By hand, alternately stir in the dry ingredients with the champagne until just incorporated. Fold ⅓ of the reserved egg whites into the batter until fully incorporated but not deflated, then continue with the remaining ⅔ of the egg whites. No whites should remain visible but batter should be noticeably fluffy and voluminous still. Pour the batter into the pan(s) and bake for 20-25 minutes.2Cool in pan 10 minutes, then invert to a wire rack to finish cooling.

Prepare the chocolate ganache: set a heat-proof bowl with the chocolate chunks near the stove as you bring the heavy cream to a boil. Pour half of the cream over the chocolate and leave alone for 30 seconds. Then, gently and slowly, working in concentric circles moving outwards, stir the chocolate and cream until mostly blended. Pour in the remaining cream and continue your circular stirring until it is smooth and shiny. Add in the butter and stir until just melted, then, finally, stir in the powdered sugar until just combined and no clumps remain. Cool the mixture to room temperature, then refrigerate until it reaches the desired spreadable consistency for the filling.

Prepare the white chocolate buttercream: beat the butter until light and fluffy before gradually mixing in the powdered sugar. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as necessary. Once fully incorporated, stir in the liquor until well combined. Set aside (refrigerate if not using right away; allow to come to room temperature before attempting to spread).

Assemble the cake:
Place 1 white chocolate layer on your flat decorating surface and spread evenly with approximately ⅓ of the ganache, leaving just a fraction of an inch of un-filled cake around the perimeter of the cake. Place either ½ of the 9x3 inch champagne cake3 or 1 of the 2 8x1 ½ inch champagne cakes.4 Spread another ⅓ of the ganache over the second layer and top with the second white chocolate layer. Spread with the remaining ganache and, finally, top with the last champagne layer. Using an offset spatula, apply a thin crumb coating of the white chocolate buttercream over the tops and sides of the four layer cake. Place in the freezer for 10-15 minutes, until the buttercream has firmed up considerably. Ice the cake with the remainder of the icing, smoothing it out as you go and once more at the very end.

Set the cake aside in a cool place while you prepare the toppings. Place the champagne in a small saucepan over medium heat and simmer until it has reduced to a fairly thick syrup, watching closely since such a small amount of liquid will thicken and even evaporate in the blink of an eye. Remove the syrup from the heat and cool to room temperature. Arrange the strawberry slices on the top of the cake with the points pointing outwards, starting with a large single-layer ring around the perimeter and working your way in with increasingly smaller, slightly overlapping circles. Brush the strawberries lightly with the champagne syrup. Meanwhile, melt the white chocolate using the double-boiler method – very slowly and gently – then transfer the melted white chocolate to a plastic bag. Snip off a small corner and use it to drizzle the white chocolate decoratively over the strawberries. Chill the cake until ready to serve, though I would recommend these final assembly touches (re: the strawberries & white chocolate drizzle) until fairly close to serving time to prevent maceration, dripping, and otherwise unpleasant results.


Notes:
1I only own 2 8x1 ½ inch pans, which were being used for the white chocolate cake, so I used to 9x3 inch pan. However, if you do this, you’ll need to halve the cake later on, which can be scary to some people (aka me).
2Alright, so confession time: I made extensive notes on these recipes, as I adapted them all to the point where baking times and some other components had to be adjusted. And then in the shuffle of strewn papers in the kitchen, my notes were thrown away. The original recipe for the champagne sponge calls for 13 minutes of baking, but that’s for cupcakes, so for cakes it will be longer. I believe this is how long they baked for, but please be vigilant. I will update this the next time I make this cake with more exact numbers. Sorry about that!
3If you need to halve the cake, here’s how I’ve learned to do it reasonably successfully: using a ruler, insert 4-6 toothpicks halfway up the cake in order to designate two equal layers. Using a large serrated knife, begin making your cut on one side, using the toothpicks as your guide. A rotating surface helps, as you start by going all the way around the cake shallowly, and gradually as you continue to rotate the cake, you move deeper and deeper into it until it’s fully cut in half. I, however, do not have a rotating surface, so I use my free hand to rotate as best I can – it’s not a perfect method, but once you fill the cake you can often correct any minor issues from slightly uneven cuts.
4Another disadvantage of choosing the 9x3 inch cake pan over the 2 8x 1 ½ inch pans: your champagne cake will be 1 inch larger. Not a big deal. Position the cake so that one side is flush with the bottom white chocolate layer. Using the same sharp, serrated knife you used to halve the cake, slowly cut around the overhanging edge until you’re left with some delicious cake scraps (mix it with leftover buttercream – almost makes the extra fuss of making this size cake worth it!) and an otherwise even set of cake layers. You will need to repeat this process with the final champagne layer.


So you see, that wasn’t so bad, right? I know, I know, it’s like a full-on novel going through the steps of this cake (and I probably should have thought to make some step-by-step pictures for this doozy), but this is not the kind of cake you make because you randomly get a case of the Baking Bug and want to make something on some uneventful, rainy Sunday afternoon. This is a special occasion cake, intended for those moments that don’t come by all that often.  After all, special occasions call for special food, and that’s exactly what you’re getting with this recipe. And the effort you put into it will show, pinkie swear.

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS
Read User's Comments0

The Cherry-Buttermilk Trifle (not to be trifled with)


I can’t tell you about that amazing layer cake that I made for my graduation party last week. You’ll have to wait just a little bit longer. Today is National Cherry Tart Day and it just so happens that yesterday for Father’s Day I made a really delicious cherry buttermilk trifle, which is kind of like a cherry tart (re: there are cherries in it), only so, so much better. (Can you tell I’m not a big pie person?) I seriously debated telling you about it just yet, first because I thought it might be cruel and unusual punishment to tease you on Saturday with one of the best cakes I’ve ever made and then hold out on the recipe, and second because I didn’t quite nail it. In the end, though, I know it’s going to be a long, long time before I get around to making this a second time, and whether you know it yet or not, you just can’t wait that long for this one.

Everyone at Father’s Day went nuts about this – there were only 5 of us, but even so, it was unanimously well received. There’s this layer of orange sponge cake covered by a thin layer of tangy-sweet buttermilk pudding, topped with dollops of cherry compote and sprinkled with chocolate chips, slivered almonds and fresh cherries for garnish. I meant to put chocolate chunks in the actual trifle layers, and my sister wisely noted that white chocolate would taste heavenly, too; but alas, I didn’t remember that I wanted to incorporate chocolate until the trifle was fully assembled, so I had to relegate them to garnish status. After making the cherry compote, I’m convinced that simply simmering cherries without any of the sugar would be equally successful, but I also had relatively sweet and decidedly un-tart cherries on my hands. I also wasn’t going off of one recipe, but rather pulling from many recipes and my own thoughts, so I wound up with not quite enough pudding to generously coat the cake (which would be the #1 reason why I hesitated telling you about this yet). Double the pudding recipe and you’ll be golden (the recipe below will make the quantity that I made). As it was, it still tasted good and didn’t stop my mom or me from going back for seconds. I would say that it makes 12 servings easily, and it’s filling – that second serving was probably not the best decision I’ve made, but boy did it taste good…


One Year Ago: Lemon Asparagus Ribbons with Pesto

Cherry-Buttermilk Trifle
This trifle layers sweet orange sponge cake cubes with a mild yet tangy buttermilk pudding and a simple cherry compote, all garnished with chocolate chips and almond slices to make you feel like you’re getting a spoonful of heaven in every bite.

Yield: 10-12 servings
Prep Time: 1 hour plus 5 minutes plus 15 minutes
Cook Time: 30 minutes plus 25 minutes plus 20 minutes

The Ingredients
6 eggs plus 3 egg yolks
½ teaspoon cream of tartar
1 ¾ plus ⅓ cups plus 1 tablespoon sugar, divided
1 teaspoon orange zest (from 2 oranges)
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons orange juice
2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
3 cups sweet cherries, pitted1
¼ cup water
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon chia seeds
1 cup low-fat milk
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 tablespoons corn starch
1 cup heavy cream
¼ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 tablespoons slivered almonds
fresh cherries, for garnishing

The Method
Prepare the cake: separate 6 eggs and allow both the whites and yolks to sit at room temperature for 30 minutes. Beat the 6 egg whites and cream of tartar on medium speed of a stand mixer until soft peaks form. Slowly add in ½ cup sugar and increase the speed to high until stiff peaks form. Transfer to a large mixing bowl and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 325° Fahrenheit and grease a 9x13 inch pan with cooking spray.

Add 6 egg yolks to the stand mixer (you don’t need to worry about washing because you did the whites first), and beat on high speed until thick and lemon-colored, approximately 5 minutes. Add in the orange zest, juice, water, and vanilla extract and lower the speed to medium just to combine the new ingredients. Gradually add in 1 cup of sugar before increasing the speed again to medium, and continue beating until the mixture thickens slightly and doubles in volume, approximately 5 minutes.

Mixing by hand, sprinkle ¼ cup of the flour at a time over the egg yolk mixture, folding until combined between each addition. Next, fold 1 cup of the beaten egg white mixture into the yolk mixture, and then gently fold the yolk mixture into the remaining whites. Pour the batter into the prepared baking pan and place in the oven for 27-30 minutes, or until the cake springs back lightly in the center upon being touched. Remove from the oven, run a knife or soft spatula around the edges, and invert immediately onto a cooling rack to cool completely.

While the cake is baking, move on to the cherry compote: combine ¼ cup sugar and ¼ cup water in a small sauce pan set over medium heat. Bring the mixture to a simmer and watch carefully until the mixture has taken on a light caramel color, 5-10 minutes.2Add in the cherries and simmer for another 2 minutes before stirring in the balsamic vinegar. Allow this mixture to bubble and thicken, approximately 10-15 minutes (or longer if you have the patience). Remove from the heat, transfer to a bowl and stir in 1 tablespoon of chia seeds. Cover and set aside to cool, refrigerating once it has come down in temperature enough.

Next, move on to the buttermilk: combine the low-fat milk with the lemon juice and set to the side to create buttermilk, at least 5 minutes. Whisk the remaining 3 egg yolks (reserve the 3 remaining whites for another use) together in a medium-large mixing bowl and set by the stove. In a medium-large saucepan, combine the corn starch and remaining sugar (⅓ cup plus 1 tablespoon). Whisk in the heavy cream in a steady stream until no lumps remain. Stir in the prepared buttermilk and then turn the heat on to medium-low. Heat gently, stirring often, until the mixture has begun to simmer and has turned noticeably thicker, at least 15 minutes. Remove from the heat and add ¼ cup of the hot buttermilk mixture into the egg yolks, whisking vigorously as you pour to temper the eggs and prevent them from scrambling. Repeat this two more times before adding the warmed egg mixture into the remaining buttermilk in the sauce pan. Return to medium-low heat and whisk vigorously and constantly until the pudding has thickened appropriately. Signs that this has occurred: your arm has literally fallen off and is lying sore and useless on the kitchen floor; at least 10 minutes but possibly closer to 15 have gone by;3 and/or a spatula leaves a defined trail in the pudding when dragged through. Transfer to a medium-large bowl, press plastic wrap up against the surface of the pudding to prevent skin from forming, and cool to room temperature before placing in the fridge to finish setting up, 1-2 hours.

When all ingredients are fully cooled/chilled/set, cut the cake into cubes of desired size (I aimed for bite-size, maybe ¼ inch). Arrange half of the cubes in a large trifle dish or punch bowl. Top with ¾ of the buttermilk pudding and spread evenly across the cubes. Add ¾ of the cherry compote and spread evenly across the pudding. Repeat with the remaining cake, pudding, and compote. Garnish with the chocolate chips, slivered almonds, and fresh cherries.

Sources, adapted: Annie’s Eats4(cake), Apples and Butter (cherry compote), and Food52 (buttermilk pudding)

Notes:
1This took me 10 minutes easily, perhaps as much as 15, but check out the original recipe blog post (above) for a neat trick for this. It uses a decorating tip – just be warned, I completely mutilated mine going through all of those cherries and now need to buy a new one. I admittedly didn’t pit it exactly according to instructions so you may not run into the same problem, but I thought I should give that disclaimer just in case.
2This will take a seemingly long time, but once it starts to turn, it’ll go from light-caramel to burnt in no time, so really do watch it fairly vigilantly.
3Ok, ok, no you do not need to whisk vigorously and constantly for 15 minutes straight. I took breaks and towards the end of it just stirred it around in a slow, gentle manner with the occasional strong whisk to prevent burning or sticking – but by breaks, I mean that I stood over the mixture staring at it intently, ready to spring back into action if necessary. Do not walk away. Be patient, be persistent. You can do this. Your arm will not actually fall off onto the kitchen floor, I promise.
4I also used this cake as the base for the Cranberry-Orange “Petits Cakes” with Buttercream Filling that I made last December.

This sounds like a very labor intensive recipe. It kind of is. I had the cake already made and cut into cubes in my freezer from a fondue party canceled at the last minute months and months ago, which really helped to reduce my prep time. But really, it isn’t a difficult dish to prepare, it just takes a little bit of dedication, and the pay off in the end is definitely worth it.

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS
Read User's Comments0

Floptimism's Graduation Party Recipe Round Up: Hors D'oeuvres and Cake



I mentioned in Monday’s post from L’s graduation party that I get a kind of thrill out of planning events. I love to think up themes and create a party around them, from the food to the decorations and everything in between. Unfortunately, I rarely get the opportunity to implement such extravagant plans – I’m almost never the actual hostess, and my family seems to be less and less into actual festive gatherings now that there really aren’t any kids running around. It’s really a shame, but I know that in time, when I own my own house and start my own family, I’ll have the chance to throw the kind of celebrations the nerd-factor-ten part of my brain loves to imagine.


My graduation party last weekend gave me the opportunity to throw one of these celebrations on a miniature scale – I couldn’t go all out on decorations and other thematic elements, but I could create my own menu, and I definitely took advantage of it. Being early June, I felt like it was the right time to do a pseudo “afternoon tea” spread, just, you know, without the tea. I wanted to capture an elegant Sunday brunch in hors d’oeuvres form, and I think it turned out pretty well in the end.

So without further adieu, after much anticipation, here is the Floptimism Graduation Party Recipe Round-Up:


These little brunch appetizers were my favorite of the entire party. The pancake was soft and pillowy, not incredibly flavorful yet certainly not bland, making it the perfect base for the flavorful 1,2 punch of the horseradish sauce and salty-sweet lox. The only true changes I did make were to use lower fat cream cheese in the pancakes and to substitute plain Chobani yogurt for the sour cream in the horseradish “cream;” and the only changes I would make if I were to make these again would be to buy nova smoked salmon to cut the saltiness just a little bit. I also would like to know why my pancakes didn’t puff up as nicely as the ones in the original post’s pictures, but that’s ok.

This almost didn’t happen, but at the last minute my mom decided that we didn’t have enough food, and I pulled out a dip mix that I had bought at a craft show earlier that year. The link is to the company’s site. I’m usually all about 100% homemade, but this dip turned out pretty well and the ingredients are impeccable. It was a good, quick fix to the solution of not-enough-food without needing to panic, run out to the store, or scramble for a recipe when I was already knee-deep in cooking tasks to get everything done in time. I ignored the instructions on the package and made it with 100% plain Chobani instead of a mixture of mayonnaise and sour cream, and I have to admit that I found it to be a littletoo potent with that Greek yogurt tang, but everyone else fawned over it. You can without a doubt get away with making these dips with partial Greek yogurt, but some people might prefer it with at least the addition of a more subdued base to even it out.

Caprese Bites
This recipe was the simplest to think up, the easiest to execute, and bar-none one of the most popular. One thing I’ve learned in planning parties is that as intrigued as people get by the fancy, sophisticated, and intricate dishes, it’s the simple ones that really light their sparks. At least, that’s what I’ve learned from my experiences. The two biggest hits of the day? Store-bought crackers and brie cheese, and these caprese bites. Here’s what you do: (1) Buy 1 pack of cherry tomatoes, 1 pack of mozzarella balls, toothpicks and a few sprigs of basil. (2) Halve the mozzarella balls and any large cherry tomatoes. Cut little leaf-shapes or strips out of the basil leaves. (3) Stick a mozzarella half through the toothpick, followed by the basil, followed by the tomato. (4) Refrigerate or serve. It takes a little bit of time to assemble since everything is so miniature, but it’s easy as pie and totally stress-less. I think a little cup of balsamic would be great for dipping, but everyone seemed to enjoy them perfectly fine on their own.


The above link will bring you to a much more gourmet-looking “Puff Pastry Squares with Pea and Tarragon Puree,” but I wanted to offer some gluten-free options (as one of my relatives has Celiac) and overall wanted something a little lighter and less indulgent than the puff pastry. I immediately thought of endive, and simply used an endive leaf as a boat for the dip. I look each leaf, smeared it with a scant ¼ teaspoon Dijon mustard, and topped it with about 1 teaspoon of the dip. Overall it made around 16 endive boats of varying sizes (I just used 1 endive). And let me tell you, this dip is fabulous. It’s not a very overtly flavorful dish – all of the flavors are somewhat demure – but calling it plain would practically be blasphemy. This dip is naturally sweet with salty-savory undertones from the cheese and a hint of almost licorice from the unique flavor of tarragon. I couldn’t get enough of this dip, and spread the extra on crackers and raw vegetables long after the endive boats themselves were gone. Ok, not long after – both the endive boats and leftover dip were mostly eaten that day and finished off by yours truly less than 48 hours later. Further proof of how delicious this was.

 
My family member with Celiac also has an egg allergy, so I thought these egg-less and crust-less quiches would be the perfect addition to my spread. It uses lite firm silken tofu (it’s the Mori-Nu shelf-stable kind; the recipe is very specific about the type of tofu used, as apparently other varieties fall apart) instead of the eggs, and turmeric to give it a yellow color. I think some of the party-goers were slightly suspicious, as the texture is not quiteeggy, but no one questioned me and I suspect that no one knew that what they were eating was not actually egg* (except my family member with the egg allergy, who I very quietly told off to the side and who graciously helped cover for me whenever someone inquired about the recipe). I did run into some snags with this recipe and want to play around with making it again before I say too much, but I did provide the link to the original in case you wanted to take a stab at it yourself.
*Note: as soy allergies become more common, be very vigilant about serving this without full disclosure of the ingredients. I know that no one in my family has a soy allergy, so I chose to pass it off as a regular quiche to encourage more people to at least try it, but if you’re unsure, please don’t risk this.

 White-Chocolate Champagne Layer Cake
And then there was dessert. You don’t get a link because I took about 4 different websites and smooshed them together into one fantastic cake. Except, you have to wait for the recipe – la piece de resistance – because it deserves its own post. This cake is phenomenal. It rivals the one I made for my sister’s graduation two years ago, and that was truly one of my finest “creations” (as in, I followed the recipe well – I still can’t take credit for creating the recipe itself). It was certainly sweet enough to be addictive and qualify as dessert, but it wasn’t overtly or overpoweringly sweet. The cake was soft in texture and flavor, pairing well with the frosting and ganache which explode on your taste buds with decadence. I mean really, this cake is out of this world, and I promise that you will be hearing from it again many times on this blog. First, of course, I’ll give you the recipe. But then…ohhhh, then. I have this scheme that I’ve been devising for the most decadent, extravagant cake imaginable, and it involves these two cakes plus five more. That’s all I’ll say for now. 


 So there you have it, after nearly a full week of taunting and teasing you with the promise of revealing my graduation party spread, I’ve finally come through. I hope it was worth the wait!



*Note: I have since re-tried this recipe and blogged about it. See the improved version here.



  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS
Read User's Comments0

Cranberry-Orange "Petits Cakes" with White Chocolate Buttercream Filling


If we were face to face right now, I would be on my knees. My hands would be clasped together in a plea. My grin would be so wide you’d barely be able to see the rest of my face. I would be asking you, beseeching you, to make these cakes. I have gone nuts over desserts before, and likely even on the pages of this blog, but never have I felt so emphatically about a recipe. At least, I don’t think I have.

I’m calling these petits cakes, though I know it’s a brutal Americanization/butchering of the French language, because they were intended to be petits fours, but rather than cut the cake into teensy tiny squares, I went with more substantial, full-size servings instead. It was really more for my own sanity, and to accommodate the normal-sized sugar cookie I wanted to adorn each cake with. They really are petits fours at heart.

 The cake, halved and brushed with white chocolate liqueur.

Speaking of little cake squares and hearts, petits fours will always hold a place in mine. My family often went to this one bakery not too far from my house – every birthday cake, Saturday morning cinnamon bun, and just-because-we’re-going-to-be-passing-by box of assorted treats came from this shop. And, although I loved their birthday cakes, my true allegiance as a child was to the vanilla petits fours. Beautiful little rectangles enrobed in smooth, rich white fondant and topped with piped buttercream flowers in assorted colors, they were likely the first proof of how easily I could knock back an alarming amount of even the most decadent treats. Whereas the richness would likely stop most people at just two or so of these petits fours, I could finish off a box like it was my job. Whenever they were in the house – and trust me, they didn’t last long – I’d be sure to get my share throughout the day. Yes, even starting with breakfast. Clearly, I was not always so focused on proper nutrition.

Now that I’m older, I certainly don’t eat petits fours for breakfast. I also haven’t been to that bakery in a long, long time, in fact eschewing most pastry shops for their inevitable use of shortening. I know, I know, how snotty (and stubborn) of me. This means that I also haven’t eaten a petit four in longer than I can remember, and yet it was almost by chance that I thought to make my own last week.

 The cake, halved and topped with buttercream and cranberry filling.

I was all set to just make decorated sugar cookies to bring to L’s dad’s Christmas Eve dinner, when I realized that C’s girlfriend (C being L’s brother), who happens to be downright awesome at decorating sugar cookies with royal icing, would also be contributing a plate of knock your socks off cookies. I know it’s not a competition, and that L’s family wouldn’t jeer at my still inferior decorating skills; it just started eating away at me and I got more and more uncomfortable with the idea of our two plates of cookies sitting side by side on the kitchen counter. All upset, I woke up Friday morning and frantically weighed my options. I didn’t want to give up the cookies because I’m still trying to practice my skills, and it seemed silly to totally abandon that opportunity for such practice just because I was intimidated; on the other hand, I really wanted to make something special, something that would stand out. When I came across a recipe for Petits Fours on Annie’s Eats, it struck me – I can have my cake and eat it, too! And by that I mean, I could still practice my decorating skills with sugar cookies without making them the focal point of my dessert – they would just be the garnish of the petits fours! It was perfect.

I wasn’t quite satisfied with Annie’s recipe, though. I wanted to incorporate this white chocolate liqueur I’ve been trying my best as a sorry excuse for a drinker to go through on my own; I also wanted a fruit filling that would be more seasonal than most berries are at this time of year. Cranberry came to mind, but how was I supposed to get cranberry jam? What about the cake flavor – would lemon still work, or should I change it? I wanted a pure white cake with a pure white sugar cookie – would the vibrant cranberry filling pop in a good way, or just look like my seemingly virginal cakes were bleeding a slow and painful death? I spent so many hours brainstorming the logistics of this cake, to the point where even though none of these recipes are my own creation, I feel a sense of pride in the finished product.

 
What I brought with me Saturday night to L’s dad’s house was a plate of thinly glazed orange cakes sandwiched around layers of thick, sweetened homemade cranberry sauce and white chocolate (liqueur) buttercream, each topped with their own haphazardly decorated (yet remarkably elegant) snowflake sugar cookies. Tomorrow’s post will go more into the sugar cookies themselves – an appropriate end to 2011, I think, with my resolution to perfect the art of sugar cookie decorating – but today I won’t hold out on you with the cakes themselves.

To warn you, they are ridiculously sweet and rich. L actually didn’t particularly like them – he’s not a big icing person, and even the thin layer of buttercream mixed with all of the other sweet components, particularly the fondant, was just too much for him. But everyone else raved, including myself, and I usually tend to hold back on my own desserts. You bite into one of these cakes and the soft cake just melts in your mouth, releasing a burst of orange encased in a sweet, slight crunch from the hardened fondant glaze. You chew for a moment, and your taste buds are greeted by the spiked white chocolate-sweetened cranberry combination, and pure sweet is replaced by an indulgent richness. This is a cake to be savored. Eat it slowly. Close your eyes after each bite. Swallow with a subtle pang of regret that you can’t keep experiencing those flavors over and over again. Or, go and sneak another serving and relive the moment all over again. This dessert is other-worldly, more than a show-stopper in both appearance and taste. I meant to write about this earlier in the week so that you could make this for New Year’s Eve, but even now that it’s more last minute I urge you to change your plans. And this is me, a diehard chocoholic, telling you to drop everything and make something that doesn’t have even half an ounce of real chocolate in it. That is not advice to be taken lightly, my friends.

 

Cranberry-Orange “Petits Cakes” with White Chocolate Buttercream1
Yield: 18 servings

The Ingredients – The Buttercream2
1 ½ ounces white chocolate3
½ cup butter, softened but not quite room temperature
1 ½ cups powdered sugar
2 tablespoons white chocolate liqueur, plus more for brushing the cake

The Ingredients – The Cranberry Filling2
3 cups cranberries
⅓ cup sugar4
¾ cup water, divided
2 tablespoons cornstarch

The Ingredients – The Cake
6 eggs
½ teaspoon cream of tartar
1 ½ cups sugar, divided

1 teaspoon orange zest (from 2 oranges)
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons orange juice
2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour

The Ingredients – The Fondant
4 ½ cups powdered sugar
½ cup water
¼ cup light corn syrup
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon almond extract

The Method
Begin with the buttercream: melt the white chocolate in a double boiler or a large glass bowl set over a sauce pan with a small amount of simmering water. Stir once in a while and keep the heat low to prevent burning. When it’s melted, remove from the heat and set aside to cool. Meanwhile, beat the butter until light and fluffy. Add the powdered sugar in gradually, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary. Pour in the liqueur and melted chocolate and continue beating to incorporate. Refrigerate in a covered container to store, bringing to room temperature (which should take just a few hours depending upon the temperature of the house) to ensure spreadability before using.

Next, make the cranberry filling: combine the cranberries, sugar, and ½ cup water in a medium saucepan and place over medium heat. Cook while stirring frequently until the mixture starts to boil and the cranberries pop. Mash the cranberries down a little bit with the back of your spoon as you go. Remove from the heat. In a separate, smaller bowl, mix together the remaining ¼ cup water and cornstarch and then stir into the hot cranberry mixture to thicken. Set aside to cool completely, at least an hour. For a completely smooth filling, puree in a food processor once cool.

Finally, move onto the cake itself: separate the eggs and allow both the whites and yolks to sit at room temperature for 30 minutes. Beat the egg whites and cream of tartar on medium speed of a stand mixer until soft peaks form. Slowly add in ½ cup sugar and increase the speed to high until stiff peaks form. Transfer to a large mixing bowl and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 325° and lightly grease a 9x13” pan with cooking spray.5

Add the egg yolks to the stand mixer (you don’t need to worry about washing because you did the whites first), and beat on  high speed until thick and lemon-colored, approximately 5 minutes. Add in the orange zest, juice, water, and vanilla extract and lower the speed to medium just to combine the new ingredients. Gradually add in 1 cup of sugar before increasing the speed again to medium, and continue beating until the mixture thickens slightly and doubles in volume, approximately 5 minutes.

Mixing by hand, sprinkle ¼ cup of the flour at a time over the egg yolk mixture, folding until combined between each addition. Next, fold 1 cup of the beaten egg white mixture into the yolk mixture, and then gently fold the yolk mixture into the remaining whites. Pour the batter into the prepared baking pan and place in the oven for 27-30 minutes, or until the cake springs back lightly in the center upon being touched. Remove from the oven, run a knife or soft spatula around the edges, and invert immediately onto a cooling rack to cool completely.

Once the cake has cooled, slice it horizontally into two halves, as equal as possible.6 Brush each cut side with a generous amount of white chocolate liqueur. Spread a layer of the white chocolate buttercream on top of one of the cut sides, and top the buttercream with a thin layer of the cranberry filling. Place the other cake half (with just the liqueur on it) on top, cut side down, and even out as best you can. Using a serrated knife – running it under hot water can help – cut the cake into 18 equally-sized mini cakes; I cut it into thirds lengthwise, then crosswise halved it and cut each of those halves into thirds. If desired, slice a centimeter or so off of all of the edges for uniformity (I didn’t both doing this, but it does conveniently leave some pretty tasty cake scraps for you to munch on).

Finally, turn to the poured fondant: arrange the cakes at least an inch apart on cooling racks with wax paper underneath. Place the racks close to the stove top. Combine all of the fondant ingredients in a double boiler or large glass bowl over a pot of simmering water. Heat, stirring occasionally, until lukewarm. Lower the heat to the lowest setting possible and return to the mixture from time to time to stir it. Armed with a knife in one hand and a ladle or spoon in the other, portion the thinned fondant mixture over the cakes, allowing it to spill over the sides (use the knife to smooth the fondant over the entire cake). You will waste a lot of fondant, so feel free to pull the maneuver that I did and swap out the used wax paper for a new sheet and recycling the fondant that has pooled on the new one. This is the trickiest, fussiest part of the whole cake, so just be patient.

Use any extra fondant to help adhere any garnishes or decorations. Set the cakes aside to cool and allow the fondant to set, then refrigerate as best you can (I just kept mine in less well heated parts of the house and in my trunk).

Notes:
1Sources: the buttercream (The Pioneer Woman, adapted), the cranberry filling (All Day I Dream About Food) the cake and fondant (Annie’s Eats, adapted)
2If you’re pressed for time on the day that you plan to serve these cakes, both the buttercream and cranberry filling can be made up to a few days ahead of time. Refrigerate until ready to use, and leave a few hours the day of assembly for the buttercream to return to room temperature and soften up.
3Be wary of white chocolate if you’re the kind of person who pays attention to ingredients and the nutritional components of food. Many white chocolate chips are little more than chemicals and partially hydrogenated oils; I used a few squares of dove white chocolate, which is the real deal.
4I think that you could get away with decreasing this to 3-4 tablespoons. The rest of the dessert is so sweet that you really don’t need it, and leaving a little tart bite in the filling may actually make the cake even better.
5The bottom of my cake stuck to the pan – not horrendously, but it did stick, so feel free to be a little bit less judicious with your use of cooking spray. “Lightly” may not be enough in this case.



This recipe may look daunting, and it’s certainly time consuming, but it really isn’t too treacherous and can easily be split up over several days. Just leave at the very least the assembly for the final day. It really is fantastic – I’m actually all set to make the cake portion again to serve with a chocolate fondue on New Year’s Day!






 


  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS
Read User's Comments0

Classic Chocolate Cake with Ganache Frosting


Tonight's post is a very special one. It's very convenient that I am writing to you about a deliciously decadent and ridiculously easy and satisfying to make chocolate cake on the eve of Valentine's Weekend (how long can we stretch a holiday out for?), and I do hope that if you're searching for a last minute dessert for The Big Day you find what you're looking for in this recipe...but alas, this is not why I made this cake. L can feel free to enjoy a thawed piece of it when he arrives this weekend, but he, too, is not the reason why I went into a chocolate baking frenzy last weekend. No, I chose to make this cake to celebrate a very different occasion...

...Are you dying of suspense yet? Why, this is my 100th post!!

As soon as I realized my blog was becoming a centenarian (if posts were equivalent to years, I guess - in terms of years Floptimism is still quite the youngster), there was no doubt in my mind that I had to try my hand at a classic chocolate cake. You see, I used to get this crazy-expensive, seven-layer, rich, indulgent, sinfully heavenly chocolate cake from a local deli each year for my birthday (as well as a slice any time I went to the deli for breakfast - don't worry, I saved it for later like a good girl!). After my internal trans-fat ban, and with the knowledge that $45 for a birthday cake is kind of insane, even if it is humongous and would last me for months and months in the freezer, I stopped buying that cake, and have had every intention since then of recreating it in my own kitchen.

This cake is not that cake. Although I haven't yet had it only partially thawed, still chilled, I have my doubts that it is fudgy enough to stand up to that seven layer behemoth I'm used to. This isn't seven layers, at all - it's a modest single layer cake, making it much more fathomable and humble. In fact, humble seems like a great word for this cake - it's unassuming and simple, with a subtle chocolately cake and a richer yet still manageable ganache topping. If I make this again I would increase the chocolate factor by either adding more chocolate or adding in some decaf coffee, which is said to enhance chocolate desserts. Yet, with each successive slice I sit down to enjoy, I find myself loving its understated beauty more and more. This is Ye Olde Faithful Chocolate Cake - aside from maybe the heavy cream and baker's chocolate for the frosting, the ingredients are almost definitely in your kitchen already; they come together in smooth, flowing steps, the cake bakes absolutely beautifully and comes out of the oven to flood the house with the tantalizing smell of chocolate, and as all good cakes should, it only gets better over time (to a certain extent - like I said, I have transferred the remaining slices to the freezer for safer keeping). It's not dense or overwhelming, and in that lack of indulgence I find myself wanting to still search for That Perfect Recipe, but if you're looking for a simple, classic chocolate cake, particularly one for a birthday celebration but certainly for this weekend of romance, I encourage you to try this. I don't think you will regret it.

Also in honor of my 100th post, I thought I would do something to improve the blog itself more than just the appetites of my readers, so I've set up a GoogleDocs account and will now be providing you with printable recipes! I haven't decided if I will include the link on every post, or just the ones whose recipes are not available from other, original sources - but I just had to do it at least for this first one. Enjoy!

Classic Chocolate with Ganache Frosting, courtesy of Dana Treat
Yield: 1 9-inch. round cake (8-12 servings)*
Printable Recipe

The Ingredients - The Cake
Nonstick vegetable oil spray
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt (omitted)
1/2 cup plus 1.5 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup boiling water**
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 large eggs
6 tablespoons (unsalted) butter, room temperature, cut into 1-inch pieces***
1/2 cup buttermilk (or 1/2 cup milk mixed with 1/2 tablespoon lemon juice)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

The Ingredients - The Ganache
2.5 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped****
2 tablespoons chilled butter, cut into ½-inch cubes
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons heavy whipping cream
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar

The Method
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Spray a 9-inch round cake pan with nonstick spray and line the bottom with a circle of parchment paper, spraying the paper as well. Dust with cocoa powder (the recipe says flour, but after I did this step I realized that cocoa powder might be more appropriate), shaking out excess.

Over a medium-large bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda and powder, and salt (if using). In another medium bowl, sift the cocoa powder. Pour the boiling water (or coffee) over the cocoa and whisk until fully dissolved; the mixture will resemble thick, melted chocolate more than a liquid.

Meanwhile, in the bowl of an electric mixer, beat together the eggs and sugar until light an fluffy, approximately two minutes - don't underestimate this step, since you're beating air into the mixture. Add in the softened butter and continue mixing until well blended. Then, beat in the cocoa mixture, followed by the buttermilk and vanilla, lowering the mixer speed to low and only mixing until just incorporated. Finally, slowly mix in the dry ingredients, again taking care to only mix as much as it takes to just blend. Transfer the batter to the prepared pan, smooth the top, and bake in the preheated oven for about 38 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean. Without removing the cake from the pan, allow it to cool completely on a wire rack.

While the cake is cooling, prepare the ganache: combine the butter, chocolate, and vanilla in a medium bowl. Place a small-medium sauce pan over no higher than medium heat and add in the cream and sugar. Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring all the while to dissolve the sugar. Once it reaches a boil, remove the pan from the heat and carefully pour it over the chocolate mixture. Let it sit for approximately one minute before whisking until a smooth consistency is reached. At this point, it will still be thin and liquidy. Chill the frosting, covered, for roughly one hour, to attain the correct, spreadable consistency.

To assemble the cake, invert the cooled cake onto a work surface or unrimmed plate and remove the parchment paper. Spread the ganache liberally over the cake, smoothing it out to cover the top and sides. Allow the cake to set for at least one hour, though I found letting it sit for longer was even better. Both the cake part of the recipe as well as the recipe in its entirety can be made up to one day in advance and kept either at room temperature (without the ganache) or in the refrigerator (with the ganache), in an airtight container in both cases. However, I must admit, I let this cake sit at room temperature (which is, at this time of year, not exactly 60 degrees...) for several days and have not yet suffered from soured cream or anything of the sort.

Notes: *The original cake was baked in a 24-inch pan, which is a wedding-cake scale pan. I halved the recipe and made a beautiful 9-inch single layer cake, and altered the recipe to reflect this, as I would imagine not many people own the originally-called for 24'inch pan. **Here is where I would add in the coffee to bring out the chocolate flavor, dissolved into the boiling water. ***As per usual, I forgot to bring my butter to room temperature, so I hastily tossed the whole stick into the microwave to soften it. I then not only did not chop it into bits, but added the entire stick instead of 6 tablespoons. Clearly, I will not repeat this, despite perceiving no negative effects in the finished product - especially since using just 6 tablespoons leaves you with the 2 extra you need for the frosting. ****I could only find semi-sweet chocolate squares, and just in case you were curious, I did some research on the amount of sugar it added. It was the equivalent of 1 extra teaspoon, so rather than measure out 1/4 cup + 1 tablespoon + 2 teaspoons of sugar, I made the executive decision that an extra teaspoon from the chocolate was perfectly acceptable. So, feel free to do the same, though if you can find unsweetened you might as well use that.

So there it is, Floptimism's 100th entry! I never would have imagined sticking with this crazy thing for half as long. And now, I must say, it might be about time for this cake to meet the microwave and then, of course, my belly. Happy Early Valentine's Day, everyone - I hope it is enjoyable and sweet, however it is spent!


  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS
Read User's Comments0

Special Delivery Cake


Two days ago was C's birthday - you know, C, L's brother - the one who brought infamy to an otherwise innocuous (if not deliciously addicting) cranberry upside down cake. We aren't quite into the gift-giving realm of not-quite-inlaw-hood, so I usually just bake him something. Last year, for instance, was a batch of cupcakes designed to look like sushi. Kind of. This year, I baked him an upside down UPS box - so that he could have his very own, genuine upside-down cake.

Even if you have no desire to replicate the design I made, you should try both the cake and the icing, because they're fabulous. The cake is a yellow cake, very reminiscent of the flavors we've all come to love in that hate-to-love-it box mix. It stays moist and tasty, even after being kept in a trunk in just above freezing temperatures (though I would've preferred it, to be perfectly honest, had we had time to warm it to room temperature). The only "complaint" I really have is that it seems to be a little bit heavy on the sugar. The recipe says to line the bottom of the pan with parchment paper, and the top of that cake when I tried to peel off the parchment was downright gooey. There was a puddle of liquid under my cooling rack by the time the cake was ready to be constructed and frosted. I don't know that this is a bad thing - it's certainly not the worst title a cake has ever beared (born? bore? huh.) - but it is something to consider.

As for the frosting, I needed something more tan than chocolate brown if I wanted it to really look like a cardboard box. Plus, if I used a traditional chocolate frosting, then I would have had a much more difficult time finding something to use as a writing medium. So, with this brown sugar frosting, which I think is much more aptly named a chocolate whipped cream frosting, I was able to better approximate the color of cardboard as well as use a simple melted chocolate for the writing. The actual frosting was night - very light, not too decadent or rich or overpowering. I'm not a fan of the gobs of confectioner's sugar + shortening that bakeries tend to use, and I could also do without the really rich buttercreams more often than not. I like the cake to dominate, and the frosting to accent. This definitely does this. There's just this little bitsy after taste that I noticed and wasn't thrilled with. Right now I'm chalking it up to being a little heavy on the cocoa, so you might want to decrease that. No one else commented on it (negatively, that is - there were plenty of compliments), though, so again, this might just be my weird palate trying to sabotage an otherwise enjoyable cake for me.



As you can see, I forgot to take a picture of it until I was staring down at it, half eaten already. So, you won't see a full shot of it, but I did manage to get a few out of the cake the next morning. This way you can also see the inside, which might give you a better idea of how it was constructed (that word you are searching for would be sloppily, I believe). The dimensions weren't as amenable to cutting as I had anticipated, but in the end I don't think that matters so much as long as you can cover it up. And cover it up, I did. By the way, that part of the cake that looks like a chocolate cake layer is not at all a chocolate cake layer. It is a strip of solid chocolate. More on that later.

I would consider using the yellow cake as my go-to birthday cake (although I have too many variations to quite my search just yet), and I'll definitely keep the frosting in my back pocket. Because I didn't alter the recipes at all except to halve the cake, you can follow the links below. The rest of this post will cover how to make the UPS cake specifically, for all of those times that you find yourself in need of one. You're welcome.

Special Delivery Cake
Yield: 6-8 servings

The "Ingredients"
1/2 batch of a cake of your choosing, baked in a 9x9" square pan instead of a 9" round cake pan; I used one from Annie's Eats
2C (approximately) chocolate whipped cream frosting
1/2C (give or take) semi-sweet chocolate chips

The Method
While the cake is cooling, prepare the frosting. It won't look like much, but I managed to eek just enough out of it to cover the full cake.

Take the cooled cake and place it on a working surface. If the cake does turn out to be 9x9, cut the cake into a smaller 6x6 square*. This should leave you with 2 extra strips of cake approximately 3" wide each.

Place the strips top down and frost on all sides (except the side faced down on the work surface) before sliding them together, to form another (pseudo) 6x6" square. Take the original, whole 6x6" square and place it, face down, on top of the 2 3" strips that you just frosted. Now, frost the 6x6" square, leaving the top side either unfrosted or just barely so. Be sure to smooth out all sides so that it now looks like one, tall cake.

Melt the chocolate on half power in your microwave in roughly 30 second intervals. When melted, transfer to a ziplock bag or pastry bag. If using a ziplock, push the chocolate to one bottom corner, close the zip, and snip a very small hole in the full corner. Decorate as you wish - I wrote "This side up" on one side, his name and zip code on another (the full address turned out to be far too ambitious for such a small cake and rudimentary tools in the hands of a pretty inexperienced cake decorator), and my attempt at the recycle symbol on a third side. Remember, right now the cake is "upside down" from how it will be presented, so you can write normally.

Once all of the lettering and decorating is finished, place the serving platter on top of the cake and carefully flip over. Frost the remaining side, keeping the two halves on top distinct to resemble the flaps of the bottom of a cardboard box. My box had a very large gap between the two, so I squirted the remaining melted chocolate inside of it to fill it up, and then smoothed over the surface carefully with a knife so that it looked like a seam.

*Note: My cake did not turn out to be 9x9. It was about 8x8" so my construction job was a little sloppier. You still want to split the cake into 2/3 and 1/3, if that makes sense. For an 8x8 cake, this would mean making a 5 1/3x5 1/3" square with 2-2 2/3" strips.

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS
Read User's Comments0

The Cranberry Upside-Down Cake you won't want to miss


It was a cold Thanksgiving night, and snow was on the ground in an uncharacteristically peaceful turn of meteorological events for the area. There was a family huddled together around a table in a small, cozy, recently renovated home that was once an even smaller school house. Food overflowed from the platters on the countertop-buffet, and conversation filtered out across the basket of rolls and plates strewn with leftover food from people's eyes, which were more ambitious than their stomachs. The fire had died down from the other room but the closeness of the family and acquaintances left little to be desired. Then, the conversation died down, too, slowly, and the host and hostess began preparing the last and final course of the evening: dessert. The sweet potato casseroles, roasted turkey, glazed carrots and sliced ham were replaced by a decadent chocolate cake with homemade chocolate fudge sauce, a pecan cheesecake, the obligatory pumpkin pie. And then I stood up from my place at the table, walked into the kitchen, and brought out my own contribution to the Thanksgiving meal: a modestly tasteful cranberry upside down cake, garnished with clusters of fresh cranberries. A ripple of questions took over the lingering conversations at the table asking what this latest addition to the dessert buffet was. "A cranberry upside-down cake," I said - I'll admit, with a little pride, and began slicing it into small enough portions to allow people to make a sample platter of all of the delicious foods that evening. And that's when it all began.

"What makes it an upside down cake?" I heard L's brother ask from the table. That was it. That was the opening sequence to the most amicable civil war in the history of mankind: an innocently yet stubbornly heated banter that lasted for, without exaggeration, the entire night. According to L's brother (C), a cake can only be upside-down if it has a right-side-up counterpart, and as there are no cranberry cakes with the cranberries hidden on the bottom, this was, in fact, false advertising. My wonderful cake spurred a discussion to end all holiday familial debates, and I joked that my controversial cake would be enough to get me banned from all future L-family gatherings.

Luckily for the longevity of our relationship, I am invited back next year. Unfortunately for my cranberry upside down cake, it is not. And so this cake comes with a warning - no matter how endearing it is, sitting in its one-layer glory with little red gems studding the surface, and no matter how addicting it is in the way the sour cranberries cut into the sweetness of brown sugar and molasses - it is powerful enough to create a (friendly) schism in even the most amiable of families. Do not judge this little book by its cover. But at the same time, do not let this recipe pass you by without trying it. It may not be allowed back into the old school house, but I will gladly usher it into other unsuspecting people's homes, because it's just worth it. And I don't expect many people to question its authenticity.

This recipe came from the unfailing Smitten Kitchen, who I turn to time and again for reliably delicious yet simple recipes. The cake, which Deb called non-traditional in the world of upside-down cakes, is sturdy but so soft and smooth. Forget the cranberries for just a second (just a second, I promise!) and just think about this cake. Mix it into ice cream, spread some fruit butters over it, layer it with whipped cream - but whatever you do, try it, because it's just about perfect. In this recipe, it's a sponge waiting to sop up the sugary glaze from the topping, whose decadence works wonderfully with the simplicity of the cake beneath it. Think sweet, but not overpowering; studded with the feisty bite of cranberries, wilted by the heat to make them blend even more into the cake and caramelized topping around it. I'm not connoisseur of upside-down cakes; to my knowledge, this may have been the first one I've ever tasted. For all I know, I have just described a very standard upside-down cake, and I'm the only one still impressed. But I have a feeling that this is not the case. I have the sneaking suspicion that although other upside down cakes are good, and although this is not radically different from the definition of an upside-down cake, this is just one step above. Once again, the Smitten Kitchen does not disappoint.

Cranberry Upside-Down Cake, courtesy of Smitten Kitchen
Yield: 1 cake*
The Ingredients
Butter or cooking spray, for the baking pan
2/3C (5 ounces or 142 grams) packed, light brown sugar
12 Tbsp. (1 1/2 sticks, 6 ounces or 171 grams) unsalted butter, melted (I used salted)
1 Tbsp. unsulphured molasses (I used 1/2 Tbsp + 1/2 Tbsp. honey, as the recipe mentioned that the molasses taste does come through, and I was nervous about this)
2C (8 1/2 ounces or 242 grams) all-purpose flour
1C (7 ounces or 198 grams) sugar
2 tsp. (9 grams) baking powder
1 tsp. salt (omitted)
3 large eggs, room temperature (totally forgot to leave them out, as usual)
1C (8 1/2 ounces or 242 grams) sour cream
2C (8 ounces or 230 grams) fresh or frozen cranberries
Optional flavorings: 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract, 1/4 tsp. almond extract, 1 Tbsp. orange or lemon juice or 1/4 tsp. zest, 1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon, few gratings of fresh nutmeg or a combination thereof (I wish I could remember if I did this, but the addition of orange sounds genius)
Whipped cream, optional

The Method
1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees and grease a 9in. round cake pan, then cover the bottom of the cake pan with parchment (or, in my case) wax paper. This is potentially unnecessary, but I'm not one take chances when my reputation as being able to make beautifully presentable baked goods is on the line. Also, I used a shallower pan than Deb did (according to her pictures), so definitely go with a deeper one if you have it. More on that later.
2. Combine the brown sugar, 1/4C butter (melted), molasses (/honey), and water in a medium sauce pot over medium heat. Bring to a boil, stir well, and pour into the cake pan.
3. Meanwhile, sift the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt, and set aside.
4. Using an electric mixer and a whisk attachment, beat the eggs and sour cream (at medium speed) until combined. If you're using any optional flavorings, add these here. Add the rest of the butter and beat until incorporated, making sure to keep the sides of the bowl scraped down. Add in the flour mixture, mixing until smooth. I did this in batches just to prevent an explosion of flour in my face, but this wasn't specified in the original recipe. Perhaps it's just assumed as common sense.
5. Delicately press the cranberries into the molasses and brown sugar mixture in the cake pan. I crammed as many in as I could in one layer, and am very happy with the amount in the end product. Spoon the batter over it, being careful not to disturb the fruit.
6. Bake in the oven on a center rack with a baking sheet beneath it to catch any overflow, for about 30-35 minutes. The recipe calls for about 45 minutes, but neither Deb's nor mine took this long. I should have written down the exact time but, alas, I am not that thoughtful when running around in baking-mode. The cake should be a golden color and the age-old toothpick test is important (make sure it comes out clean).
7. When done, remove from the oven and let cool for 15 minutes before running a knife around the edge and flipping onto a cooling rack (if not serving immediately) or a large serving platter, to serve immediately and warm. If you're going for the former, as I did, you definitely want a piece of wax paper underneath the rack, because dripping will happen, even if you were lucky and avoided the oven overflow. Also, keep in an airtight container until serving (once cool.)

*Note: Probably because of my shallow(er) pan, I couldn't get all of my batter into one pan. I came incredibly close, but even where I stopped pouring I still watched the oven while it baked, fixated on the ever-rising cake and seemingly ever-shrinking pan. I took the extras and spooned them into another round cake pan and baked it for maybe 15-20 minutes; it was very small and flat, but I'm so happy I did this. It was perfect as a small little treat, or with a dollop of a pumpkin cream cheese dip I had also made that week. So if you wind up in this boat, don't fret - it's just an added pancake-like cake. Like a bonus feature!

All controversy aside, this really is an excellent cake, and perfect for the up and coming holiday season. It did not leave my kitchen (re: my mom's kitchen) a disaster zone, didn't take very long, and holds up pretty well over time (though eating it fresh and warm is, clearly, ideal).

I have so many recipes that I want to share with you, and with winter break coming up, you can count on seeing more of me around here. I hope that everyone is holding up well, and if life as is chaotic for you as it has been for me, well...bake one of these cakes, sit down with a nice holiday special, and just take a break from it all. Everyone needs one of those days.

  • Digg
  • Del.icio.us
  • StumbleUpon
  • Reddit
  • RSS
Read User's Comments0