Unmitigated Kitchen Disaster

I'm sparing your the disgustingness of what this photo could be.  Just look at my overcooked, but nicely crimped crust.  You've got to find something nice about it.  Please?

It snowed again this week.  Rain would have been welcome, but snow that we actually had to shovel?  So not welcome at the end of April.  In an attempt to remind myself of what indeed will return - summer - I pulled out one of the pies I made with the last of last summer's peaches.  The promise of sunshine for breakfast was enough to get me through the snow.  I should have stayed in bed, covers over my head, babies calling to me, and no tea in the pot.

The pie was horrible.  Although I faithfully researched different ways to freeze pies before I even attempted things last August, this was an utter failure.  A lot of information simply said to make the pie as you would, but not to cook it.  A little extra flour or starch in the filling would capture the extra juices you would get when you bake it.  So make your pie, freeze it, then bake it straight from the freezer.  Let me now tell you that this was bad advice, very bad advice. There was so much liquid from the fruit that the top crust effectively poached.  This is not an attractive way to cook a crust.  I even drained out some of the liquid, to no avail.  So my filling was nice, but the pie was both overcooked and undercooked.

I still managed to salvage some semblance of my summer dreams by scooping out the pie filling and eating it with yoghurt, but it wasn't the same.  I guess I'll just have to wait until August.

Comfort Food - Cake

Because beer doesn't qualify as food (although it has qualified as dinner before) it cannot truly be considered a comfort food.  Besides, that would be a bit scary.  But beer in cake?  Definitely dinner and dessert, and a midnight snack or two, all in one tasty, brown, sweet, and crumbly package.

During one of our recent emergency room visits I flipped through the March issue of Chatelaine?  Does anyone else feel sadly old reading a magazine they remember their mom reading, while you snuck looks to make yourself feel older?  And can you believe there was a current issue of a magazine in a hospital waiting room?  I digress.

Not so surreptitiously I ripped out the page before we left.  Something about beer and cake together seemed ridiculously indulgent.  Other than cupcakes here and there and a birthday cake or two (and it's usually wacky cake) I never bake cakes.  We just don't have enough company to justify all that goodness in the house for me to eat over the next two days, to the neglect of any other food.

There was no occasion other than family dinner to make the cake.  With one sad looking Trad in the house I broke it open - resisting the urge at 10 am to take a sip - and got to baking.  It was an easy cake to make, as most are.  Really just a dense and crumbly cake, using beer instead of milk or another liquid.  Honestly, I was a little worried that it wasn't coming together well as the batter was quite dry.  And maybe it isn't supposed to be?  But it resulted in a wonderful cake.

Shockingly, I also followed the recipe and used the remainder of the beer for the icing.  It is a basic whipped buttercream.  I know most people find buttercream to sweet, but I recommend it in this instance.  There is a good ratio of cake to icing, unlike many a famous purchased cupcake, and the sweetness of the icing is balanced out by the crumb of the cake.

And, in case you were wondering, you don't really taste the beer.  Trad is not a mild tasting beer, but it isn't a strong stout like a Guinness (which is what was called for in the initial recipe).  There was just a hint of bitterness to the cake, and not enough that The Monster or Hubby went, "Hey, what's in this?"  We all just happily ate our cake, patted our tummies, and laughed through another loud and crazy meal time.  A kitchen antidote for a long and stressful day.

Chocolate Beer Cake

(adapted from Chatelaine, March 2009)

1 1/2 cups flour

3/4 cocoa powder

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

3/4 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup lightly packed brown sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp vanilla

1 cup beer

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degree F.  Spray two 8 inch round cake pans.

2. Sift flour with cocoa, baking powder, soda, salt into a bowl.  Stir to mix.

3.  Using an electric mixer beat the butter and sugar for a few minutes until fluffy.  Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.  Beat in vanilla.

4.  Stir about 1/3 of the dry ingredients into the butter mixture, add half of the beer.  Repeat the additions, ending with flour.  Stir until evenly mixed.  Pour batter into prepared pans.

5.  Bake in centre of oven for 25-28 minutes.  Cool in pans on rack for 10 minutes, then turn out to cool completely.

Chocolate Beer Icing

3 cups icing sugar

1/2 cup cocoa powder

1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature

1/3 cup beer (or milk)

1 tsp vanilla

pinch of salt

1.  Sift icing sugar with cocoa.

2.  In separate bowl beat butter until creamy.  Gradually beat in half the icing sugar.  Mixture will be dry.  Slowly add beer, vanilla and salt.  Add the remaining icing sugar.  Beat until well combined.

To ice the cake, slice off any bump from the top of the cake, making a flat top.  Place one cake on a plate or cake stand.  Spread a third of the icing on the cake.  Place remaining cake on top and gently press down.  Spread another third of the icing on top.  Then spread the remaining third of the icing on the sides of the cake.

Enjoy - with a glass of milk or maybe a scotch.  Oddly, a glass of beer doesn't seem to go well with a slice of this cake.

Friday Favourite - Salt

Hubby is addicted to salt.  Seriously.  Almost nothing is salted enough for him, he loves salt and vinegar chips, and actually licks his finger and dips it in the salt pig.  One Christmas I nearly bought him a salt lick as a joke, until I realized that I would be the one stuck finding a real home for it.  In true fatherly generosity he passed this love on to The Monster.

Daddy salts his food, she wants salt on her food.  Mama seasons the sauce, she has to season the sauce.  We've developed the fine art of faking it for her.  She is a wickedly smart girl, but somehow the motion of salting her food satisfies her, even if she doesn't see any salt crystals falling from our fingers.  We're either that tricky or she's only two.

With the past few weeks filled with a lot of sick days we've turned to baking as a way to keep her engaged and away from Yo Gabba Gabba (she is a child obsessed).  When she asked to bake cookies this week I inquired as to what kind.  

"Salt."

Yup, salt cookies.  In a freaky twist of fate, I had pulled out my Cook's Country cookbook and had it open to the cookie table of contents.  Wouldn't you know, they have a recipe for salty thin and crisp oatmeal cookies?  Considering it was a real recipe and all, I figured we had a better chance than last week, when she requested salt muffins.  In case you didn't know, salt as a crunchy topping on a banana muffin is okay, but not something I have a desire to repeat.  Salted oatmeal cookies are another matter entirely.

Crispy, thin, and with just a touch of salty crunch.  These are good cookies for people who don't like sweets.  Such a change from dense and chewy oatmeal cookies.  Equally delicious, and I'm not a big fan of salt.

Salted Oatmeal Cookies

(adapted from Cook's Country)

Makes 2.5-3 dozen cookies

1 cup flour

3/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp table or kosher salt

14 tbsp unsalted butter (2 tablespoons less than a cup)

1 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup packed brown sugar

1 large egg

1 tsp vanilla

2 1/2 cups rolled oats (not quick or instant)

fleur de sel or Maldon salt

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2.  In a medium bowl whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and 1/4 tsp salt.  Set aside.

3.  Beat together the butter and sugars  until fluffy.  Scrape down the bowl.  Add the egg and vanilla and beat until fully incorporated.  Slowly add the flour mixture until just blended, then stir in the oats until well mixed.

4.  Roll cookie dough into balls about 1.5 - 2 inches around.  Place them 8 to a cookie sheet and press down with your palm.  Cookies should be about 3/4 inch in thickness.

5.  Sprinkle with fleur de sel or Maldon salt, a generous pinch per cookie.

6.  Bake for 10-12 minutes until the cookies are spread out and lightly golden.  Let them cool completely on the cookie sheet.

On Apple Cake and Race

"What colour this, Mama?"

So asks The Monster on a regular occassion. She might be asking about the colour of a toy, a bird, a carrot, or a person. In all but the last case we hapily give her the answer in detail - aqua not blue, chartreuse not green (I am a quilter, after all). But when she asks about people I struggle to answer. I feel the weight of race relations on me. I feel like that moment will define how she approaches people who look different than her.

Yup, I know I'm over-thinking it. But on today, of all days, it's at the forefront of my thoughts. We watched a bit of my show - the inauguration - before she left for the day, after I convinced her to turn off Sesame Street, of course. Hubby and I tried to explain to her what was going on, but I think the significance was lost on a two and a half year old. But tonight we'll be reading stories and she'll ask me what colour Dick and Jane are and then what colour are Pam and Penny.

Hubby is straightforward about things, but I'm not comfortable with that. He and I debate over the best approach. We were both raised without much of an issue over race. Here in Western Canada we just don't have the race issues of the US, at least as we see it. It is a product of our own suburban upbringings and the exposure to so many cultures along the way. I prefer to focus on exploring cultural differences, rather than race. But that still doesn't answer the Monster's questions.

And when I cook her coconut curry or spaghetti and meatballs or pierogies or suya she will learn about the world in a way that our travel budget just doesn't allow. Will that teach her about race and different cultures? Perhaps. But in the coming eight years both our girls will grow up with the memory of their first US President and not even understand what the big deal is.

To change the topic slightly, I've been thinking about what it would be like to live in the White House as a young family. What if Michelle and Barack want to make pancakes for breakfast? What if Malia and Sasha want to bake cookies? Is there a special family kitchen in the White House? There must be, otherwise it would feel like living in a hotel. That's got to wear on anyone.

I'm hoping to keep tabs on things by faithfully reading Obama Foodorama. And today, in honour of the inauguration I'm baking this apple cake. It isn't the recipe from the luncheon, but it looks beautiful and honours the food of the day.