{She said} Grab a fork.

This weekend was a beautiful one. 

The mornings started out as lovely, drowsy snapshots. The kind where rain patters against the window, sounds are muffled by low-hanging clouds, and the pavement is shiny with the glow from dying streetlamps. 

The kind where you roll over in the early blue light, realize you have nowhere pressing to go, and curl in against your equally sleepy bedfellow.  

The kind where your feet are warm and your thoughts fuzzy around the edges, and there is a whole day of possibilities ahead...so you take one more hour to just lie tangled with your lover and, half-awake, savor the stillness. 

I love those rare days.

Fortified by a gentle start to the day and a bowl of hot oatmeal, we bundled up with a farmers'-market mission for our springtime Saturday: acquiring some parsnips.

Last week's local newspaper catered to the food-geek crowd by publishing an unlikely treatment for parsnips,  rendering them in cake form.   I have a well-established love affair with all things cake-ly.  And over the past weeks, the cooking deities have been peppering my path with recipes featuring parsnips.  So, after being primed with subliminal taproot messages and a lovely start to a rainy day, my mission was perfectly clear: there was parsnip cake in our future.  

This cake came together nicely, without too much fuss. {If you've ever made a carrot cake, this has a similar workload.}  The parsnips had a nice dark, spicy smell to them, similar to very fresh carrots.  {While I didn't mind the look of them, Bart was a little put off by their appearance: "They look like albino carrots. They should have beady little red eyes, too."}  During baking, the smell wafting through the apartment was lovely.  And the final result was deemed A Keeper.  It was almost carrot cake-y.  And just a touch spice cake-ish. Nice and moist, with a lovely cream cheese frosting. It rolled around in your mouth, smooth and tender, and I was sad when my slice was gone. We sent half of it away with friends, and the rest has been getting progressively whittled throughout this afternoon.  A snippet by him, a nibble by me.  Which is exactly what you should so with a tasty cake on a gray Sunday when the pavement is wet.

Parsnip cake ~ Sunday, 3/27/11 by K.

Ingredient note: The parsnips turned up easily enough at the local farmer's market, but we also found some later in the day at our regular run-of-the-mill grocery store.  The almond meal (a.k.a., almond flour} turned out to be a little more tricky; we had to go to Zupan's, a schmancy specialty foods store, to find it. I believe Whole Foods and other natural foods retailers also carry it, or you can order it from bobsredmill.com.  While I recommend finding the almond meal, in a real pinch you could substitute with flour.

The pastry chef who concocted this recipe recommends choosing small to medium sized parsnips, as they are sweeter and less fibrous than the large ones. The diameter of the top should be about 2 inches or less, and the flesh should be white and free from bruises. The flesh browns quickly after peeling, so submerge them in water with lemon juice to retain whiteness if you are not using them right away.  If you are shredding them for cake, however, they'll be hidden, so you don't need to soak them at all. 

Baker's note: I don't care for the strand-like texture of shredded ingredients in cake, so I used the large whacking blade on my food processor and chopped/ground the parsnips fine, rather than using the shred disc attachment. 

Parsnip Cake

Makes one 9-inch cake

Adapted from pastry chef Danielle Pruett of Clyde Common, Portland, OR

Published in The Oregonian, March 22, 2011,  article by Ashley Gartland

Italicized baking notes from Table For Two

Cake:

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 cup almond meal (such as Bob's Red Mill brand)

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon {I used 1 full teaspoon, plus 1/2 tsp. ground ginger}

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup powdered sugar

1/2 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar

3 eggs

1 Tablespoon vanilla extract

3/4 cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled (1 1/2 sticks)  {I used 1 stick melted butter + 1/4 cup canola oil, for moistness}

1 3/4 cups shredded parsnips (from about 4 medium parsnips) {I finely chopped/ground mine in the food processor}

Frosting: 

1 pound cream cheese, at room temperature

1/2 cup unsalted butter (1 stick), at room temperature

1 1/2 cups powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 teaspoon lemon juice

1 teaspoon rum (optional)

1/3 cup whipping cream

To make cake: 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and position rack in center of oven. Spray 2 9-inch cake pans with nonstick cooking spray and line with parchment paper; spray the parchment paper with nonstick spray.

1. In a medium bowl, whisk the flour, almond meal, baking powder, baking soda, spices, and salt. Set aside.

2. In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, blend the sugars, eggs, and vanilla on medium speed until well combined. Blend in the flour mixture on medium speed until well combined. Drizzle in the melted butter and continue mixing on medium speed until combined. 

3. Fold in parsnips with a rubber spatula.

4. Pour batter into prepared pans and spread it evenly.  Bake until a tester inserted into the center comes out clean, about 20-30 minutes. Carefully remove cakes from pans and place on wire rack to cool completely.

To make frosting:

1. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat cream cheese and butter until smooth. Add powdered sugar and mix until just blended, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. 

2. Add vanilla, lemon juice, and rum (if using), and beat on low speed until just combined. Slowly mix in cream on low speed until smooth. Once cream is incorporated, beat frosting on medium-high for a few seconds. Use immediately or refrigerate until ready to use. Allow to come to room temperature before using. 

To assemble the cake, spread frosting between the two layers. Frost sides and top of cake.  Depending on how thick you like your frosting, you may have 1/3 to 1 cup left over. 

Temptation on a plate

Recipe and image courtesy of www.oprah.com

Every so often I come across an image that wedges itself firmly in my "things to bake" queue. This lovely confection is working its way higher and higher up the ladder...

Gina DePalma's Toasted Almond Cake with Mascarpone Cream and Amarena Cherries

Servings: Serves 12–16

Ingredients

Cake:

• 2 cups almond flour
• 3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (not self-rising)
• 1 1/2 tsp. kosher salt
• 3/4 tsp. baking powder
• 3/4 tsp. baking soda
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1 can or tube (7 to 8 ounces) almond paste , cut into small chunks
• 24 Tbsp. (3 sticks) unsalted butter , at room temperature
• 6 large eggs , at room temperature
• 1 cup whole milk , at room temperature
• 1 Tbsp. Amaretto liqueur
• Finely grated lemon zest (from 1 lemon, about 2 tsp.)
• 2 tsp. vanilla extract 

Mascarpone and Amarena cherry filling:

• 1 1/2 cups mascarpone
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1/2 vanilla bean , split and seeds scraped
• 2 Tbsp. kirsch or grappa
• 1 cup amarena cherries in syrup, well drained and coarsely chopped
• 3/4 cup cherry jam

Buttercream:

• 1 cup sugar
• 4 large egg whites , at room temperature
• 24 Tbsp. (3 sticks) unsalted butter , at room temperature
• 4 tsp. vanilla extract 

Directions

Note: Amarena cherries are a sweet-sour varietal from Northern Italy. DePalma uses Agrimontana's and also recommends those from Fabbri, available at Amazon.com. Almond flour is available on Amazon.com and at specialty grocers. This recipe is for a classic, one-tiered layer cake.

To make cake: Adjust 2 oven racks to divide oven into thirds. Preheat oven to 350°. Grease 3 (9" x 2") round cake pans. Line bottoms with parchment paper; grease paper and dust pans with flour, tapping out excess. Spread almond flour on a rimmed baking sheet and bake until toasted, stirring once, 8 to 10 minutes. Let cool.

In a large bowl, whisk together almond flour, all-purpose flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda; set aside. Combine sugar and almond paste in a food processor and blend until almond paste is finely ground, with the texture of fine sand.

In a stand mixer with paddle attachment, combine almond paste mixture and butter. Beat on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes, scraping bowl occasionally. Beat in eggs one at a time until well blended. With mixer on low speed, beat in milk, Amaretto, lemon zest, and vanilla until well blended. Beat in flour mixture, scraping bowl. Beat on medium speed until well blended, about 30 seconds. Divide batter among prepared pans and spread evenly. Stagger pans on 2 racks in oven so pans are not directly above one another. Bake 30 to 40 minutes, rotating pans halfway through, or until a toothpick inserted in center of cakes comes out clean. Let cool in pans 10 minutes. Run a knife around sides of pans and turn cakes out onto wire racks. Remove parchment paper and flip again; cool completely.

To make filling: In a stand mixer with whisk attachment, combine mascarpone, heavy cream, sugar, vanilla bean seeds, and 1 tablespoon kirsch or grappa. With mixer on low speed at first and increasing to medium, beat just until firm peaks form; do not over beat. Fold in cherries. Refrigerate 30 minutes. In a bowl, stir together cherry jam and remaining 1 tablespoon kirsch or grappa.

To make buttercream icing: Combine sugar and 1/2 cup water in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring to dissolve sugar. Boil without stirring until syrup reaches 240° on a digital thermometer, about 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a stand mixer with whisk attachment, beat egg whites on medium-high speed until soft peaks form. With mixer on medium speed, gradually pour in hot syrup in a thin stream; avoid pouring syrup on whisk. Increase speed to medium-high and beat until stiff peaks form and mixture is cool, about 8 minutes. Reduce speed to medium and add butter 1 tablespoon at a time, beating after each addition. (If at any time buttercream appears curdled, beat on high until smooth, then reduce speed to medium and continue beating in butter.) Once all butter is added, beat on high speed until buttercream is smooth and fluffy, about 1 minute. Beat in vanilla.

To assemble cake: Spread 1 side of 2 of the cake layers with jam and let stand 10 minutes, so cakes absorb some of jam. Place 1 cake layer, jam-side up on cake stand or plate. Spread with half of mascarpone filling. Top with second cake layer, jam-side up. Spread with remaining filling. Top with third cake layer, top-side up. Frost cake with about 1 cup buttercream to crumb coat cake; refrigerate 1 hour. Frost cake with remaining buttercream. Serve immediately or refrigerate; if refrigerated, let stand at room temperature 1 hour before serving.

The first step is admitting your addiction...

I've been on some strange dates in my time. I think the one that takes the cake, however, was the evening I found myself sitting in an unpainted warehouse in a questionable neighborhood of my hometown. 

Railroad tracks out behind the building. 

A myriad of POW/MIA-logo-emblazoned motorcycles parked out front among the smashed bottles. 

And a very sweet boyfriend {now husband} at my side as I attended a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. 

Chill out...it was for a community health rotation in nurs!ng school.  

While my demons differ from most of the folks in attendance on that spring evening, I still have a confession to make:

Hi. My name's Katharina. The fam calls me Katie. 

And it's been 18 minutes since my last hit of chocolate. 

Our recent cooking adventure all started with an innocent trip to the grocery store. The current issue of a certain awesome cooking publication beckoned from the magazine section. I sidled up and held the bewitching glossy in my clammy hands, heart pounding. And when I saw the cover's proclamation that the penultimate brownie recipe lay within, I was brought to my knees in wanton chocolate lust. The editor must have someone on the inside...these people are professionals, going straight for the jugular. My partner in crime {a.k.a. El Husband} was as bewitched as I with the promise of baked-good nirvana, so we slipped the coveted April issue into our cart and whisked it home to plan our next hit.

Soooo, the spoils of our recent quest won't shock anyone. Three separate grocery store treks and eleventy-something dollars spent to track down cacao celebrities like Callebaut, Valrhona, and Scharffen Berger. {Because all the big-wig recipes tell you "to use the very best chocolate you can possibly obtain." Because we like to go big or go home. And because I desperately wanted to try the schmancy stuff before I die.} 

Just to up the ante, somewhere along the line I made the decision that this baking experience needed to turn into the ultimate brownie throwdown. A certain Sunday afternoon found me up to my eyeballs in my stash, preparing to pit the Cook's Illustrated "Chewy Brownies" recipe {April 2010 volume} against the Barefoot Contessa's "Outrageous Brownies". 

A little chocolate-chopping technique that I found helpful:
The kitchen wunderkinds behind Cook's Illustrated recommend using a serrated bread knife when faced with a block of chocolate. It made short work of the brick and broke it into fairly uniform, fine shards that melted oh-so-nicely. Sooo much better than whacking away with my chef's knife.

Don't you adore it when multiple formulations of dark chocolate come to fisticuffs? It's a win-win situation.  When the flour settled, we found ourselves staring across a vast expanse of crackly-topped, dark-crumbed, melt-in-your-mouth goodness. Two pans full of it.

And then the time came to dispense our goods. A not-so-secret fact about the Husby and me: we hustle people into helping us deal with the products of our kitchen adventures. Yes, we are pushers of the sugar; that's how things roll around our place. The dialogue usually goes something like this:

Me: Hello, So-And-So. I called because I need a little help with something. A service project.
Unsuspecting Victim: Ummmmm...okay.
Me: I baked too much. Up to my eyeballs in treats. Think you can help us out?

You can probably imagine how the rest of it goes down. Yes, I am a shameless baking hussy. I'm not above bribing people to be my friends by using the wiles of kitchen tricks.  Deal with it...you might be next.

Interestingly enough, the results of our little brownie bake-off ended in a draw.  While I had visions of a clear winner, both recipes had their distinct merits. Neither we nor our hapless victims taste testers could decide which they liked better. {Later, Bart did declare a slight preference for the Cook's Illustrated version.} So we all just stuffed our faces and reached for our elastic-waist pants. Told you I was hooked. There should be support group meetings for things like this. {Yikes. I think there ARE meetings. Meetings called Weight Watchers.} Oooooh, I'll bring the treats!

Here's the breakdown of our throwdown...

Barefoot Contessa's Outrageous Brownies

• Surprisingly {to me, at least}, Ina Garten's recipe  produces a brownie that is actually a bit tastier after being chilled, as opposed to straight-out-of-the-pan consumption.  This always takes me off guard, as I do like fresh, warm, gooey goodness. {Maybe this recipe was intended for restaurant use and being served from a chill case?}

• I've made these brownies before, and this go-round was the first time I've ever used the called-for espresso granules. I realize it's supposed to deepen the flavor of the chocolate, but I thought it was just too bitter, too forceful, too much--it almost overshadowed the experience. The taste testers agreed that 3 Tablespoons is overkill. Granted, I'm not a coffee drinker and I did buy the cheap-o brew.  Do what you like dear bakers, but I'll skip the burned beans next time. 

• The texture is straight-up divine.  Chocolate chunks are amazing in here...using the very highest quality chocolate I could get {Callebaut, 58% cacao} really did make a big difference.

• After the fact, Bart found that you can order the Big Three {Callebaut, Valrhona, and Sharffen Berger brand chocolate} from Amazon for less than we paid in the grocery and baking stores. C'est la vie. Save yourself some bucks.

• Go here to find the outrageousness. And have a big pan on hand to accommodate the big batch; my 12"w x 18"l  x 2"h pan did a fine job.

• P.S. These freeze really well.

Cook's Illustrated Chewy Brownies

• America's Test Kitchen produced a brownie that was a bit less sweet; they called the flavor "grown up".  I call it "extraordinary". It was a bit fruity, a bit nutty, and leaned toward the dark end of the chocolate spectrum.

• Again, REALLY good chocolate elevated this to a divine experience. {Callebaut 58% chunks with chopped unsweetened Sharffen Berger melted into the base.} Try to get your hands on some of the good stuff; save the Baker's and Hershey's brands for another project. Although I don't think it's quite on par with the big guys, Ghirardelli will do, too, and it can be found in most grocery stores.

• I love reading about the process that these recipe testers undertake. The particular kitchen ninja who developed this recipe baked hundreds of batches of brownies over several months before she landed on the right formulation of chewy texture and shiny-crackly surface.  If you're into scientific process and the why of the recipes, then this publication is for you. Fascinating.

• Apparently, it's vital to let your brownies cool completely before cutting. That is news to me; I usually go for the instant gratification of diving straight into the pan when it comes out. This recipe recommended lining the pan with a foil sling and using it to remove the brownies. I've never tried this, but decided to go along for the ride. Warning:  Get all the dang foil off your treats when they're finally cooled. Eager beaver here ingested about a postage-stamp's worth of foil before realizing that the texture was a little -- off. {Or maybe this is just a cautionary note to myself because you bright folks have already figured out the painfully obvious.}

• P.S. These also freeze beautifully. And unlike the Outrageous batch, they don't require a mondo-pan.

Chewy Brownies ~ From Cook's Illustrated, April 2010

1/3 cup Dutch processed cocoa

1 1/2 teaspoons instant espresso (optional)

1/2 cup plus 2 Tablespoons boiling water

2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped

4 Tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted

1/2 cup plus 2 Tablespoons vegetable oil

2 large eggs

2 large egg yolks

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

2 1/2 cups (17 1/2 ounces) sugar

1 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

3/4 teaspoon table salt

6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, cut into 1/2 inch pieces

1. Adjust oven rack to lowest position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Line pan with foil, covering all sides and leaving excess to overhang pan edges. Spray with nonstick cooking spray.

2. Whisk cocoa, espresso powder (if using), and boiling water together in large bowl until smooth. Add unsweetened chocolate and whisk until chocolate is melted. Whisk in melted butter and oil. (Mixture may look curdled). Add eggs, yolks, and vanilla and continue to whisk until smooth and homogeneous.

Whisk in sugar until fully incorporated. Add flour and salt and mix with rubber spatula until combined. Fold in bittersweet chocolate pieces.

3.  Scrape batter into prepared pan and bake until toothpick inserted halfway between edge and center comes out with just a few moist crumbs attached, 30-35  minutes. Transfer pan to wire rack and cool 1 1/2 hours. (If using a glass pan, cool brownies 10 minutes, then remove them from the pan to avoid overbaking.)

4. Using foil overhang, lift brownies from pan. Return brownies to wire rack and let cool completely, about 1 hour. Cut into 2-inch squares and serve. 

WIth Love, From the Berry Patch

Spring has been mercurial here in Colorado. Two large-scale snowstorms in the last ten days, sprinkled with the odd tantalizing sunny afternoon, and I am craving the blessed season in earnest. With the advent of super-springtime-strawberry specials at the grocery stores, I've been prowling through all my old issues of Domino magazine {r.i.p.} to find this particular recipe to at least convince my palate that spring will roll 'round. 

This concoction is somehow light, refreshing, and sumptuous all at once. It is freshness on a plate. The best part: it is quick to assemble and it looks beautiful. 

If your neighborhood wholesale behemoths {Costco, Sam's Club, and the like} have the large trays of berries, I recommend stocking up. If your local grocers are wooing with two-for-one strawberry discounts, get thee to the produce section. Even if the fixings aren't on super sale, this pie is worth a splurge. {Evidence: our avowed non-pie-eating friend went back for a second slice.} Then bypass your trusty freezer jam recipe for a bit and make this for your friends, for your family, for yourSELF. 

Strawberry Cream Pie, from June/July 2008 Domino Magazine

Serves 6-8

2 lbs. fresh strawberries {about 4 pints}, tops removed, plus 4 strawberries, reserved

1-1/4 cups milk

3/4 cup granulated sugar

5 Tbsp. cornstarch

3 Tbsp. lemon juice

2-1/2 cups graham-cracker crumbs {I substituted Nilla wafers to get a shortbread-like crust--highly recommended}

10 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted

1 cup heavy cream

1/2 cup confectioners' sugar

1. Place 2 pounds strawberries in a blender and blend on high until pureed, about 10 seconds {do in several small batches, if necessary}. 

2. Combine milk, sugar, and cornstarch in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and whisk until dissolved.  

3. Add the strawberry puree and the lemon juice. Cook on high heat, stirring constantly {mixture scorches easily}, until the mixture is thick and bubbling, about 7 minutes. Remove from heat.

4. Place cracker/wafer crumbs in a 10" x 1-1/2"-deep pie plate or a springform pan, drizzle with melted butter, and mix until all the crumbs are moistened. With the back of a spoon, press evenly into the bottom and sides of the pan to form a crust. 

5. Pour strawberry filling into crust and let cool completely {about 30 minutes}.  Cover and refrigerate overnight.  

6. Just before serving, place heavy cream in a mixing bowl, and with an electric mixer, blend on high until stiff peaks form.  Add confectioners' sugar and blend another 10 seconds. 

7. Using a spatula, spread the whipped cream over the filling. Slice reserved strawberries, add to top, and serve.

Homer moment (Part Doh)

Another recipe from the files. It is easy to make but beware it can cause rude comments during a chest x-ray.

Praline Yams
2 - 40oz cans Sweet potatoes
2/3 cup milk
5 egg yolks
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper

Topping
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup corn syrup
1 cup chopped pecans

Mix yams, milk, egg yolks, salt and pepper together until smooth. Place in 9x13 greased baking dish.

Heat brown sugar, butter and corn syrup in microwave. Mix in pecans and spread over yams.

Bake at 350 for ~40 minutes or until toothpick in yams comes out clean.

Homer moment

My biochemistry professor (who had a lot of subcutaneous tissue) when teaching about lipids would exclaim "Homer moment". This was usually when talking about prime rib, ice cream or other things that have the potential to cause a heart attack. I unfortunately live for Homer moments and the following recipes have been requested at recent parties.

WARNING: These may cause you to yell "DOH!"

Buttery Corn Bread
2/3 cup butter
1 cup sugar
3 eggs
1 2/3 cup milk
1 tsp salt
2 1/3 cup flour
1 cup corn meal
4 1/2 tsp baking powder
Cream the butter and sugar. Combine eggs and milk in small bowl. Combine dry ingredients in small bowl. Add milk to butter mixture alternately with flour. (note: I usually do not do this because I am lazy. I just mix everything together in one bowl.) Bake in greased 13x9x2 pan at 400 degrees for 22-27 minutes.

Buttermilk Syrup (So good cardboard would be edible)

1 cube butter
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 teaspoon soda
1 teaspoon vanilla

Melt butter, add buttermilk and gradually stir in sugar. Heat over medium heat, stirring occasionally until mixture comes to boil. Remove from heat and add soda and vanilla. (Syrup will foam up when you stir in the soda and vanilla, so use a large-sized saucepan.)

Brought To You By the Letter C

There are good cakes, and then there are good cakes. This is a story of the latter.

Setting the scene: prep work for this confectionary experiment found me in a liquor store on a snowy day, searching for a particularly unfamiliar ingredient. Hubby Love and I are from teetotaling families, the both of us, and neither one of us imbibes Adult Beverages. Don't know much about them either. I was, therefore, at the mercy of the barely-English-speaking lady behind the counter.

Me: I'd like a small bottle of bourbon, please.

Liquor Store Lady: Here you go {handing me a teensy vessel labeled "Whisky"}.

Me: Umm, thanks, but I need bourbon.

LSL: Yep.

Me: This says it's whisky.

LSL: {Looking at me like I am an idiot} Yep.

Me: {Feeling truly lost} I really just need some bourbon, and I'll be out of your hair.

LSL: {Sounding exasperated} Bourbon IS whisky.

Me: Ooooo-kay. {Still confused}

End of scene.

I later consulted friends who are far more well-versed in the world of boozedom than I. Turns out, there is a particular distilling/refining process that turns some kinds of whisky into bourbon. I still don't quite have a handle on it, but bottoms up to all you aficionados out there.

So I forked over my $1.62 and got on my way to bake my Cake of Sin {Clarification: Sinful as in hella big calories, since science tells us that all the ethanol of bakes out. Riiiight. Feel free to enlighten me as to where I am headed and why I am in this handbasket, but only after you have sampled the fabulosity described below. I'm fairly sure the folks Down Below already have a seat warming for me anyway.}

The consensus: this recipe is ridiculously amazing. It is very nearly a flourless cake, and is so dense and velvety that it almost melts in your mouth--no exaggeration. There is no need to frost this little beauty. If true love has a flavor, I just found it--very dark, rich, complex, silky, and not too sweet. For the chocolate devotee in your life, make them oh so happy by serving up a sliver of this. Make it for Valentine's Day. Or for Tuesday. Or for I'm Making An Impressive Dinner Day. Just make it.

We are liquor lightweights, and neither Hubby Love nor I could taste the bourbon. {Of course, we didn't know what we were looking for either, so we may not be the best judges.} A taste-testing friend swore she could feel it "burning on the way down", but I call Drama Princess on that count. Next time around, I don't plan to bother with the bourbon, and you shouldn't feel the need to use it if that's not your style. It didn't add anything special to the palatal experience, and it tends to be an out-of-the-way ingredient. If you do roll the way of the hard stuff, though, rum or even a dash of rum extract might play a good flavoring substitution. So grandma says.

Tip: If you don't have a 9 x 3 inch cake pan, use a standard 9 x 2 inch pan and line the sides with a collar of upright 3-inch-wide strips of greased wax paper or parchment paper.

Bourbon Chocolate Cake

From The Best of Fine Cooking, Chocolate Edition, Winter 2006

Bourbon Chocolate Cake, January 2009 ~ by Katie

11 oz. semisweet baking chocolate, chopped {Use best quality possible ~ Callebaut or Valrhona are excellent. Baker's brand is quite affordable, easy to find and did the job.}

6 oz. (12 Tbs.) unsalted butter

6 large eggs, separated, at room temperature

3/4 cup packed light brown sugar

1 oz. (1/4 cup) all-purpose flour

1/4 cup bourbon

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract {I like almond extract for a different kick}

1/2 tsp kosher salt

Position a rack in the middle of the oven and heat to 350. Butter a 9 x 3-inch cake pan {or line a shallower one on the sides}. Line the bottom of the pan with a round of parchment paper and butter the parchment. Set the cake pan in a roasting pan large enough to accommodate it.

Melt the chocolate and butter together, either in a double boiler over medium heat or in the microwave in 30-second bursts, stirring between each heating. Remove from heat and let cool slightly.

With an electric mixer {a stand mixer with whip attachment or a hand mixer}, beat the egg yolks with the brown sugar on medium speed until very pale, thick, and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Reduce the speed, add the chocolate mixture, and mix just to combine. Add the flour, mixing just to combine and scraping the bowl as needed. Blend in the bourbon and vanilla. Transfer to a large bowl and set aside.

In a clean, dry mixing bowl with clean, dry beaters, beat the egg whites with the salt on high until they hold soft peaks, 1 to 2 minutes. With a rubber spatula, fold one-third of the egg whites into the chocolate mixture to lighten it, then gently fold in the remaining whites. Scrape the batter into the prepared cake pan.

Set the roasting pan on the oven rack and add enough warm tap water to come halfway up the sides of the pan. Bake until the top feels set, 40-45 minutes. Remove the cake pan from the water bath and run a paring knife around the inside of the pan {or the inside of the parchment collar} to loosen the cake and then let cool completely in the cake pan on a rack. When cake is completely cool, loosen the sides once more with a paring knife. Cover the cake with a serving plate and invert the cake onto the plate. The bottom of the cake is now the top. Peel off the parchment. {Don't worry if the surface looks a little ragged; you'll be dusting with confectioners' sugar.}

To serve: Top with sweetened whipped cream and dust with confectioners' sugar. Accompany with a large glass of milk.

Land of a Thousand Cakes

In our house, we are big proponents of scientific method: hypothesize, formulate a plan, test and re-test the theories, and evaluate the outcomes. A good experiment should be able to be replicated for later study. A great experiment yields consistent results. One of my co-workers just had a birthday, and when I asked what sort of cake she wanted, she said, "Chocolate!". (Stay with me here, folks--this comes full circle.) When I realized that I didn't have a go-to chocolate cake recipe, there was only one thing to do: start some full-on kitchen experimentation. We have been in test kitchen mode for several weeks now, churning out various chocolate-laced confections. Testing for texture, flavor, crumb consistency, presentation, and the all-important ease of the recipe. I know. Hard-core science. A tough task, but someone had to do it! (And several other someones cordially helped us out by taking the taste-testing very seriously, then dispatching the remaining baked goods to willing palates. Waste not, want not, good people.)

We found some real gems along the way, but two beauties in particular stood out. My criteria required a performer that was dark chocolate flavored, not too sweet, densely & smoothly textured, and nowhere near dry. This recipe may read a little long, but it is easy as proverbial pie to mix up. Presenting for your consideration:

Fastest Fudge Cake

From Best of Fine Cooking, Chocolate Edition, Winter 2006

Fudge cake, Jan 2009 ~ by Bart

4 1/2 oz. (1 cup) all-purpose flour

1 oz. (1/4 cup plus 2 Tbs.) unsweetened natural cocoa powder (not Dutch-processed)

1/2 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. table salt

1/4 lb. (1/2 cup, or 1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled

1 1/4 cups packed light brown sugar

2 large eggs, lightly whisked

1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup hot water

Position a rack in the lower third of the oven and heat the oven to 350. Grease the bottom of an 8 x 2 or 9 x 2-inch round cake pan or line it with parchment. (Lining with parchment paper will make life so much easier when you unmold your cakes. I say do it! Just trace the outline of your pan on parchment paper--found near foil and plastic wrap in the store--cut it out, and place in the bottom of your pan. Spray well with baking spray.)

In a small bowl, whisk the flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt. Sift only if the cocoa remains lumpy after whisking. In a large bowl, combine the melted butter and brown sugar with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula. (The butter shouldn't be too hot, or your egg whites will solidify when you follow the next step.) Add the eggs and vanilla; stir until well blended.

Add the flour mixture all at once and stir just until the flour is moistened. Pour the hot water over the batter; stir just until it's incorporated and the batter is smooth. (I did all mixing by hand with a whisk and a wooden spoon. While a hand or stand mixer can be used, take care to avoid beating too much air into the batter. If overbeaten, the cake will rise too quickly and sink on itself while baking.)

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 30 minutes for a 9-inch pan; 35-40 minutes for an 8-inch pan. (I routinely set the timer for 5 minutes less than called for and then check for doneness. It's much easier to add time if needed than to un-bake that extra few minutes, and results are usually a bit more moist if baked on the low end of the timing scale.) Let cool in the pan on a rack for 10 minutes. Run a thin knife around the edge and invert the cake. Peel off parchment paper if necessary. Invert again onto the rack and let cool completely.

Once cool, set the rack over a baking pan or sheet of foil. Pour warm ganache (recipe follows) over the cake and use an icing spatula to spread it over the top of the cake and down the sides. Let set for about an hour before serving. (We like a little extra goo, and we're not patient when it comes to dessert. Seemed a waste to let all that perfectly good ganache run off, so we just drizzled the cake on its serving plate and ate up.)

Ganache

Yields 1 1/2 cups

1/2 lb. bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, finely chopped

1 cup heavy cream; more as needed

Granulated sugar (optional)

Put chocolate in a medium heatproof bowl. In a small saucepan, bring the cream to a boil. Pour the hot cream over the chocolate and whisk gently until the chocolate is completely melted and smooth. (If using 70% bittersweet chocolate, the ganache might be a bit thick; add more cream, a tablespoon at a time, to thin it. You may also want to add several teaspoons of sugar as desired when adding the hot cream.)

So. Let's discuss amongst ourselves. The evaluation step of the scientific process yields this conclusion: If you are not a dark chocolate fan, you may want to lay off the ganache. Or sweeten it up with some granulated sugar. Or pick a different topping, like buttercream or cream cheese frosting. Or ice cream. Or your sweet, sweet love muffin. However you roll, it's all good. (Myself, I would shoot dark chocolate through my very veins if I could do it, and this cake is a perfect venue to ingest some deep, dark goodness.)

For my birthday girl friend, I did a variation on the above recipe. I wanted a layer cake, and I wanted it tall. You know, the fancy, glass-case-worthy sort of cake. I prepped three 8-inch round cake pans and doubled the batter recipe, dividing it evenly between the three pans. Baking temps were the same, and I gave the cakes 20 minutes in the oven. After a thorough cooling, I stacked them, frosting between the layers and over the whole cake with pink-tinted cream cheese frosting. I think Martha would be proud. Have you ever engaged in kitchen experiments, serial or otherwise? What did you make?

Tomorrow: The Cake That Will Make You Want To Cry With Happiness, as seen below. Buckle your seatbelts, chickadees.

Bourbon Chocolate Cake, January 2009 ~ by Katie

Pear & Honey Tart

Let me just make a disclaimer right up front. Rarely have I ever met a baked good I didn't like. That said, this little ditty is laden with lovely, sophisticated flavors; you won't find it keeping company on the corner with the common, tarted-up, box-mix treats. The beautiful part is, you won't spend all dang day in the kitchen, either. I like to put this recipe together for large familial gatherings. You know, the lovefests with raucous jokes, boisterous board games and lots of peckish cousins/uncles/aunts looking for a snack to nosh. Or those friendly get-togethers when you want to make some confection that's a little bit sexy but not a whole lot of work. One batch yields two half-sheet pan-sized tarts.

Pear & Honey Tart

From InStyle Magazine, November 2005

Ingredients:

3 cups slivered blanched almonds

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1 package of two frozen puff-pastry sheets, thawed

1-1/2 to 2 lbs. assorted firm pears, cored and sliced, peel on (Comice, D'Anjou, Bartlett)

1/3 c. honey

1/3 c. crumbled bleu cheese, or to taste

1 egg

Fresh sweetened whipped cream

Directions:

1 ~ Remove puff pastry from freezer and thaw according to package directions. Heat oven to 375 F. Lightly coat two half-sheet pans with baking spray. Gather ingredients and slice pears.

2~ In a food processor with chopping blade, pulse almonds and sugar until finely ground. Add 6 Tablespoons water, 1 at a time, until a thick paste forms. {You may need to add a little more water as needed, 1 Tablespoon at a time, to reach a spreadable consistency. Alternative: if you want a more rustic appearance to the tart, you may crumble the almond mixture instead of spreading it.}

3~ Cover 1 sheet of pastry with a damp cloth. {Work quickly to avoid drying out the dough.} On a lightly floured surface, roll other sheet of pastry out to fit pan. Place dough on greased baking sheet. With a knife, lightly score a 1-inch border just inside pastry's edge. Using a fork, gently poke holes all throughout the pastry's middle, inside the border.

4 ~ Spread or crumble half of almond paste over pastry, up to the border.

5 ~ Arrange half of pear slices over almond filling.

6~ Brush pear slices with half of the honey. {Warming honey in the microwave makes it easier to work with.}

7 ~ In a small bowl, lightly beat egg with 1 tsp. water. Brush over outer edges of the pastry's border.

8 ~ Bake 25 minutes or until outer edges are just beginning to turn golden.

9 ~ Sprinkle half of bleu cheese over pastry, then return to oven for another 5-10 minutes. {If you don't care for bleu cheese, you may omit this step. I'd encourage you to try just a little bit, though, because the full complement of flavors is really that good.}

10 ~ Repeat above steps with remaining sheet of pastry. {The last time I baked this, I had the luxury of a borrowed convection double oven. If you have the means, save yourself time and assemble/bake both tarts at once. If your oven is a plain old regular kitchen device like mine, you can follow these directions as written and just repeat the process, or just halve the recipe and make one tart, as the full two-tart recipe will make a very large batch.}

11 ~ Serve immediately, topped with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream.

Note: Best served warm and eaten right away. Store leftovers in refrigerator. Does not keep well.

Editorial note: I have received some feedback from other bakers that this tart can turn out a bit soggy on the bottom. If you are concerned about a damp lower layer, you may consider par-baking the puff pastry before assembling. Be sure to roll the dough out and score it (see step 3), then give it 3-5 minutes at 375 F before assembling the tart with the other ingredients. Follow the remainder of the instructions and bake as directed above, or until done.