Comunidad Health Foods

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.

When I grow up, I want to live in a town small enough that I can bake my own Halloween goodies for trick or treaters, and not be looked at like a monster trying to poison our darling youths with anthrax-infused candy apples. Don't get me wrong, I love candy as much as the next American, but I love baking even more, and having an excuse to dole out said baked goods. Plus, it's just so much more festive, creative, and interesting to give out a homemade confection. But alas, trust in this world is all but obsolete. Even I have been trained to fall into this trap of cynicism. I remember just after 9/11, going trick or treating to this one house where a woman opened the door with an apron on, offering us (if memory serves me correctly, which it has been known to not do) candy apples or regular candy. My entire group gossiped about how she was so clearly cooking up some poison to inject our candy with. What darling children we were, right? Poor woman - all she did was offer us a nice, homemade treat, and even at 11 or 12 years old, all we could say of her was that she was obviously trying to kill us. Happy Halloween!

Basically, all of that is to say, I am skeptical that my dream of having a white picket fence and a dog and cat and kids and hubby, opening the door on Halloween Night in my own finest apron, letting the smell of cinnamon and apples waft out to the trick-or-treaters, and offering them my best sugary concoction I can muster that year...well, I'm skeptical that this will ever happen. This year, to try to come as close as possible to this lofty dream, I have retreated to my parent's small mountain home for the weekend - and, yes, I baked my little heart out. It's really for a bake sale for my college's student dietetic association, so I guess that's pretty close to handing it out to trick or treaters. Just minus the cute costumes, and plus a little price tag on each scone and muffin we dole out.

I have yet to make the apple muffins (that's on the menu for tonight), but the apple scones are baked, cooled, and individually wrapped. Unfortunately, this means I have no pictures of them (no camera). I will do my best tonight to get a little photo shoot going and edit this post, but if you really want to know how wonderful they look, head on over here to see the ones that the original blogger took.

I really hesitate to call these scones at all. They lack the firmness that a scone should have, and the dough was really more of a batter than anything else. Essentially, they turn to be delectable little apple cake slices, with just a little bit more body. The recipe claims the dough will be wet, so I don't think that I necessarily did anything wrong (except, perhaps, use more than half all purpose flour, which absorbs less liquid than whole wheat, and bake them in a higher altitude than usual). If you find that your dough/batter is as liquidy as I did, you might be better off making these drop scones; but if you find that I have just made a teensy blunder and yours are the picture of perfection, go right ahead and make them as the recipe states. Either way, you'll wind up with a baked good that tastes delicious and a house that smells like fall. Not too shabby, eh?

Apple Scone Cakes, courtesy of Acquired Taste
Yield: 16, apparently, but I doubled it and got 24...and probably shouldn't have even stretched it that much.
The Ingredients
2C flour, half whole wheat (mine was more of a 3:1 ratio because...well, it was just more convenient at the time)
¼C sugar
1 Tbsp. baking powder
½ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt (omitted, salted butter)
½C butter, cold and cut into pieces
1 tsp. cinnamon
3 apples, peeled and cut into small pieces (I used about 7 smaller ones when I doubled it)
1 egg
½C milk (I used 1%)
1 tsp. lemon juice
1 tsp. brown sugar


The Method
1. Combine flour, sugar, baking powder and soda, salt, and 3/4 of the cinnamon in a large bowl - though I wouldn't complain much in eating one of these with all of the cinnamon added here, and even more added later on...
2. Add in the butter with your hands, using a pinching motion to create a sandy-textured mixture. This should take around 5 minutes.
3. Add the apple pieces and be sure to incorporate fully.
4. Meanwhile, beat together the egg, milk, and lemon juice. I used a fork and my poor wrist because we lack the finer luxuries of a fancy mixer or even a whisk, but I think it did the trick just fine. Not that I would choose to do it again if I had another tool handy.
5. Pour the liquids into the apple mixture gradually, taking time between additions to mix thoroughly. This is where the recipe assures you that the dough should be very wet. Check.
6. Turn the dough onto a floured surface and knead 4-5 times. Ha! A video clip of me trying to need this batter would be one of the most ludicrous scenes you've seen in a long time, I can assure you. If you would call your "dough" a "batter," please do us all a favor, and skip this step, as I so foolishly did not.
7. Transfer the dough to a well-oiled (but not excessive) baking sheet or pizza pan - or, again, if you have a batter, just put it straight from the bowl to here. Using your hands or the back of a spoon/spatula, pat the dough into a 1/2" tall round, and cut into 8-16 slices. I found that 8 produced very appropriate scones, but I suppose that 16 would work, too.
8. Sprinkle the brown sugar and cinnamon over the top, as I so carelessly forgot to do and instead rushed halfway through the baking process, and bake for 15-20 minutes (or until the tops are a nice, golden brown). I found that 20 minutes was even a little bit too short, so I took them out, separated them from the circle they made, and baked them even more. And probably could've baked them longer still. Like I said, using the "drop scone" method would have made my life much easier yesterday.

All in all, I can't complain about them. They may not have turned out as a typical scone should, and scone conoisseurs all over would flock to criticize this product. But to any person who just likes apples and cinnamon baked together, this is sure to please. It's light, definitely not dry, and very enjoyable. Hopefully the people at the bake sale tomorrow think so, too!

Happy Halloween!

Now, as delicious as those Margarita Cupcakes were, you didn't really think that I would stop at one birthday dessert, did you? After all, only a fully sane person would stop at one - if any - self-made dishes on their Special Day. You see, I was all set to have a smorgasbord of alcoholic cupcakes for dessert: I'm talking margarita, Strawberry Daquiri, and - one that I was particularly intrigued by - Irish Car Bomb.

The first fly in the ointment was the price of alcohol. A huge reason why I bake for my own birthday (though not the main one) is that cakes are borderline astronomical these days, and just not worth it...in my humble opinion. So, had I loaded up on three separate types of alcohol and used just a tablespoon or so of each per recipe, my birthday dessert would've gone from frugal to bank-breaking in a matter of seconds. The second fly in the ointment was the amount of time I had to create all of these desserts. The weekend before my birthday coincided wonderfully with the end of a beach vacation, meaning I would get home Saturday afternoon and have less than 24 hours, including sleep time, to make this all work. And the third and final fly was the fact that apparently, I am not the only one in this Whole Wide World or even my entire family who shies away from alcohol, and some people just might not appreciate having to choose between negligible amounts of intoxication in their desserts, or no dessert at all (totally unacceptable, I know).

Basically, I needed another option, and thought that a nice cookie would do the trick. In keeping with the citrus/summer theme and my love of all things Smitten Kitchen, I turned to one of SK's recipes: slice and bake cookies with a thousand-and-one mix-in options, including lemon poppyseed. This recipe not only gave me a simple, well-reviewed cookie (complete with enticing pictures), but it is also a dough that can be frozen. So, a week and a half before the Big Day, I was able to crunch these cookies out, roll them into logs, stick them in the freezer and be on my merry way. My mom was loving enough to slice and bake them for me while I was off getting a shorts tan on the beach, so I have to give credit to her, as well.

Lemon Poppyseed Slice & Bake Cookies, courtesy of Smitten Kitchen
Yield: Roughly 50 cookies, says Deb...I 100% forgot to count. I'd say, if anything, a little less.
The Ingredients
2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature (or, salted butter and omit the salt later on)
2/3 C powdered sugar, sifted
2 large egg yolks, room temperature
*pinch of salt
1tsp. vanilla or almond extract (I used vanilla, but more on that later)
2 C all-purpose flour
Mix-Ins: the zest of 2 lemons, 1/4C poppy seeds to coat or mix* (I also added 1/2tsp. lemon extract)


The Method
Cream the butter on medium speed until smooth. Add the powdered sugar and continue beating until the mixture reaches a smooth and silky consistency again. Beat in the egg yolks, salt (if using), lemon zest, and poppy seeds (unless coating). Reduce the speed on the mixer to low and add the flour, mixing until it just disappears. If in doubt, it's better to under beat here, incorporating the remaining specks of flour with a spatula. Turn the dough onto a counter and form it into a ball. Divide the dough in half, wrapping each separately in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Once the dough has chilled, remove it from the refrigerator and form each ball into a log measuring about 1 to 1 1/4in. thick. Now, I found this to be much more troubling than it probably should have been, but maybe I'm too much of a perfectionist. Yes, I did pull out a ruler and measure, and yes, I did adjust the logs when I got a measurement of 1 1/3 or 1 1/2. I cannot tell you how necessary this is, though I get the impression that aside from altering the number of cookies you will wind up with and maybe the cooking time, it really doesn't matter. Anyway, once you have gotten your well-measured (or not) logs in order, wrap them in plastic and chill for two hours. At this point, you may freeze them for up to 1 month or refrigerate for up to 3 days, just make sure they go in an airtight container. I used plastic wrapped followed by a freezer bag, which was ultimately a poor decision because the logs were too long, and so I wound up with crooked logs (because you know I sat there until they "fit," anyway).

When you are ready to bake them (remember to thaw the dough a little if you opt for freezing first!), divide your oven into thirds using the oven racks and preheat it to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets (or as many as you need) with parchment paper.

Meanwhile, roll the cookies into the poppy seeds if you're coating them with it, and use a sharp and slender knife to portion them into roughly 1/3in. slices. If you make them any thicker, just be aware that the baking time will likely need to be increased. Place the cookies on the baking sheets with around 1/2in. space between each one.

Bake the cookies for 12-14 minutes, watching for them to set but not brown. Transfer the cookies to a cooling rack to cool to room temperature.


*Note: My first intention was to mix the poppy seeds in, but seeing that I only had a meager tablespoon or two of poppy seeds left in the container, I changed plans. I mixed in what I had, and decided I would add them to the shopping list and coat the logs with the remaining amount, so that there was a little of both. Plans changed again when the poppy seeds were accidentally left stranded in the grocery store, and so I just used the small amount that had been originally mixed in. I thought they came out fine, both aesthetically and in terms of taste, and probably would not mix the whole 1/4C in next time, even if I have it on hand.


These lemon poppy seed cookies were big hits in my family. I think L would have gladly eaten the entire batch himself, as would several other people. They're light and crumbly (in the good kind of way, not in the I-just-bit-into-this-cookie-and-now-more-than-half-of-it-is-in-my-lap kind of way) and the citrus flavor is strong but not overpowering. They're buttery and full of flavor, as they should be with two sticks of butter thrown into the mix. Also, they keep well. They didn't last more than a couple of days in my house so I can't give you any conclusive evidence, but I didn't notice a change in quality at all in that time frame. They were apparently easy to bake, and definitely easy to make, and more than that, this is a great base recipe to have in your pocket. You should go to Smitten Kitchen and look at all of the other options she has listed, and then sit down and think of some of your own. I plan to make these again, both in lemon poppy seed form and in countless other forms, too. Plus, who doesn't love having a frozen log of cookie dough on hand to pick at without cooking every time you open the freezer be able to whip up at a moment's notice?

And that brings an end to the birthday desserts, but have no fear, because L's birthday is in just a few days and I have all sorts of plans for that. Ushering in people's 21st birthdays with "alcoholic" food might just be my new specialty...