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Spice Cake with Salted Brown Butter Frosting

10 Sep

A few months ago, I made a bunch of cakes for a friend’s Kickstarter campaign. To me, this was a task on par with that of an artist being commissioned to paint a fine portrait. I took it very, very seriously. I bought bakery boxes in which to present the cakes. I made house calls to each and every cake recipient, making sure to describe, in fine detail, the nuances of not only the cakes, but also their frostings and/or garnishes. I shaved chocolate to decorate the cakes, I made special cardboard cake stands on which to sit each cake in its box, and then I hand-stamped my name, along with the name of this very website, onto each cake box. Like I said, I took my task very, very seriously. Behold:

Remind me to tell you about this cake at another time.

Though I have encountered many people who simply cannot believe that I would go to such great cake-making lengths and not get paid a penny to do so, the fact remains that, incomprehensible as it may seem, I really enjoy making cakes. I also enjoy making salads, Indian food, bread, and…well, food. Just in general, I enjoy making food.

A couple of years ago, I agreed to make an enormous spread of food for my son’s school open house, and when, on the afternoon of the open house, it began to snow (which, just to be clear, rarely happens here), I was struck with both parts panic and delight when I realized that, my lord, what happens if the open house gets canceled and I get stuck with all this food. And then I realized that, hey, if the open house gets canceled, we get stuck with all this food. The samosas, the smoked salmon bruschetta, the caramelized onion flatbread, the lemon bergamot bars, the spicy brownies—all of it would have been ours and ours alone. Most of the time, when I prepare food in this manner, I never get to actually eat it. I just drop it off, then come back later on to retrieve the empty platters. For the first time ever, I was faced with the possibility of actually being able to eat the food I had spent the past two days making. It was equal parts exciting and confusing.

This is basically what happens when I make cakes for people, as well. I lovingly prepare the cake, frost it with the gentlest of care, then nestle it into a special box, never to be seen again. I suppose that is why, when I was scrolling through some old photos from the beginning of the year, I almost could not remember making this spice cake. The spice cake recipe from America’s Test Kitchen, packed with spices that get bloomed in brown butter, then perked up with a shot of fresh ginger, is an old favorite of mine. The frosting, dreamed up when I was looking for a way to really punch up the cake, is a new favorite.

The brown butter in this frosting is the perfect compliment to the brown butter in the cake, and the hit of sea salt contained within supplies the most wonderful undertone to the warm sweetness of the cake. How do I know this, having just admitted that I never had the chance to taste this cake, as it was meant for someone other than me? Well, I may have never tasted this particular cake you see in the picture, but you’d better believe that, as soon as I was able, I took the time to make another one of these cakes. And the second time, it never had a chance to leave the house.

Last Year: Green Beans with Cherry Tomatoes Caramelized Lemon-Balsamic Onions

Spice Cake with Salted Brown Butter Frosting Recipe

Spice Cake

Adapted from The America’s Test Kitchen Family Baking Book

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

¾ teaspoon ground cardamom

½ teaspoon ground allspice

¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg

16 tablespoons (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 16 pieces and softened

2 ¼ cups unbleached all-purpose flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

2 large eggs, room temperature

3 large egg yolks, room temperature

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1 ¼  cups granulated sugar

2 tablespoons light or mild molasses

1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger

1 cup buttermilk, room temperature

Adjust an oven rack to the middle position. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and flour 2 9-inch round cake pans, then line the bottoms with rounds of parchment paper.

In a small bowl, combine cinnamon, cardamom, allspice, and nutmeg. In a small skillet, melt 4 tablespoons of the butter over medium heat and continue to cook, swirling the pan constantly, until the butter turns light brown (this should take anywhere from 3 to 6 minutes). Stir in the spice mixture and quickly cook until fragrant, about 15 seconds. Remove from heat and pour the mixture into a bowl to cool slightly.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In a small bowl, whisk together the eggs, egg yolks, and vanilla.

In a large bowl, or in the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the remaining 12 tablespoons of butter with the sugar and molasses. Beat on medium-high speed until the mixture is light and fluffy, about 3 to 6 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, then beat in the ginger, the cooled butter-spice mixture, and half of the egg mixture until combined, about 30 seconds. Beat in the remaining egg mixture until combined, about 30 more seconds.

Reduce the mixer speed to low, scrape down the sides of the bowl, and beat in one-third of the flour mixture, followed by half of the buttermilk. Repeat with half of the remaining flour mixture and the remaining buttermilk. Beat in the remaining flour mixture until just combined.

Give the batter a final stir with a rubber spatula to make sure it is thoroughly combined and there are no unmixed bits at the bottom of the bowl. Scrape the batter into the prepared pans, smooth the tops, and gently tap the pans on the counter to settle the batter. Bake the cakes until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean with a few moist crumbs attached, about 20 to 25 minutes, rotating pans halfway through baking.

Allow the cakes to cool in their pans for 10 to 15 minutes, then run a small knife around the edges of the cakes and flip them out onto a wire rack to finish cooling completely. Peel off the parchment paper and allow cakes to cool for at least 2 hours.

Salted Brown Butter Frosting

3 sticks unsalted butter, cut into chunks and softened

2 tablespoons milk or cream

2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

heaping ¼ teaspoon sea salt

3 cups confectioners’ sugar

In a large skillet set over medium heat, melt 2 sticks of the butter, then cook, swirling constantly, until the butter turns light brown and just begins to release a nutty aroma. Remove from the heat, then transfer to a medium bowl. Place the bowl in the refrigerator, and cool the browned butter for 30 to 45 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes, until the browned butter reaches the consistency of softened, room temperature butter.

Remove cooled browned butter to a large bowl, or the bowl of a standing mixer. Add the remaining stick of butter, milk or cream, vanilla, and salt. Beat together at medium-high speed until smooth, about 1 to 2 minutes.

Reduce mixer speed to medium-low, then slowly add the confectioners’ sugar and beat until smooth and incorporated, about 5 minutes. Increase mixer speed to medium-high and beat until the frosting is light and fluffy, which can take anywhere from 5 to 10 minutes, depending on the power of your mixer.

Makes about 4 cups of frosting, enough to frost a 2-layer cake or one large sheet cake.

Fruit Crisp Made on the Grill

27 Aug

The wait for hot summer weather in Portland can sometimes be interminable, but then, when the hot weather does finally hit, people seem to forget all the grousing and moaning that they previously took part in when it wasn’t hot enough for their liking, taking part instead in a great deal of grousing and moaning about how unbearably hot it is. When it comes to grousing and moaning, I take part, as most people do, in my fair share (though I generally reserve my woeful moaning for talk of baseball), but you will never, ever find me complaining that it is too hot in Portland. It rains nine months of the year here, and I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t forced to wear a sweater throughout the month of June. More than ¾ of my life is spent waiting for hot weather to arrive.

In addition to having an excuse to lay around in a hammock and read, hot weather also gives me a great excuse to try out the many, many things I’d like to attempt to cook on a grill. The standards of meat and vegetables are always a pleasure, but, as is my way, I have always wanted to try out a number of desserts on the grill. In the past, I have grilled fruit, sprinkled with a bit of brown sugar and drizzled with dots of vanilla, but I’ve always known that I wanted to do more with a grilled dessert.

This crisp is the perfect gateway for those of you who would like to audition a grilled dessert. I say this, because I am a person who wants to tackle more dessert-making on the grill, and the success of this crisp has made me only more eager to do so. The fruit, bubbling away contentedly, took on a deep and luscious flavor when contained in the grill for the better part of an hour, and the buttery oat topping seemed to almost melt into the fruit in parts, resulting in a crisp that was not so much actually crisp, but something even better. When slowly grilled, the fruit and the topping joined forces, settling into one another like a perfectly formed puzzle. It was a delightful discovery, and a wonderful introduction to what I hope will be a new world of desserts.

Last Year: Mimi’s Ginger Lemon Tea–good as a cool summer drink, a warm winter tonic, and a catch-all healer for anything and everything that ails you.

Grilled Fruit Crisp Recipe

Prepare an outdoor grill for indirect cooking (more on how to do that here). With the lid down, heat one side on high until the internal temperature of the grill reaches about 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Topping:

½ cup unbleached all-purpose flour

1/3 cup rolled oats (not quick cooking)

¼ cup light brown sugar

¼ cup coarsely chopped pecans or almonds, or a mix of the two

pinch of cinnamon

pinch of salt

6 tablespoons cold butter, cut into pieces

Fruit:

6 cups fruit, sliced into roughly ½-inch pieces (I used strawberries, peaches, and blueberries which, obviously, I did not have to slice)

zest and juice of 1 lemon

1 tablespoon cornstarch

3 tablespoons light brown sugar

pinch of cinnamon

To make the topping, in a medium bowl combine the flour, oats, brown sugar, nuts, cinnamon, and salt. Stir together, then add the butter pieces and, using a pastry cutter or two knives, cut the butter into the flour mixture until the topping resembles coarse crumbs with a few smallish pea-sized bits of butter throughout. Refrigerate the topping while you prep the fruit.

In a medium bowl, combine all ingredients for the fruit filling and toss to combine. Transfer fruit to a heavy cast iron skillet (mine was a 12-inch skillet, but a 10-inch one would also work), spreading it out evenly. Spoon the topping mixture over the fruit as evenly as possible.

Cook the crisp on the unheated side of the grill, lid down, for 40 minutes, until the fruit is bubbling and the edges of the crisp topping have just started to turn golden. Be very careful when remove the skillet from the grill, as it will be incredibly hot. Allow the crisp to cool at least 15 minutes before serving.

Serve plain or with ice cream.

Brown Sugar Nectarine Ice Cream

21 Aug

As a child, I thought that making ice cream at home was the type of thing only early American pioneers did. Ice cream came from the store, or an ice cream shop, and it was packaged in a square container that opened up like an envelope from the front. (I cannot be the only person here who remembers ice cream being packaged in this manner, can I? The flimsy box, the tight corners that held onto the ice cream and resisted being nudged out by a rounded scoop? In terms of ice cream package technology, whoever thought to ditch the box with square corners and develop a more rounded package was a genius.) When, in the book Farmer Boy, Almanzo Wilder and his siblings were left to their own devices after their parents left town for a week and deemed the children to be in charge of the farm, what was the first thing the kids did? They made ice cream (and cake, and candy…and then more cake and ice cream). They made so much ice cream and sweet treats, in fact, that they almost completely emptied out the family’s sugar barrel.

Reading about this intense feat of sugar consumption practically gave me a contact high. Making ice cream at home? For dinner? You can imagine how compelling I found this idea (I was going to add in the words “as a child,” but, let’s face it, I sort of like that idea now as well). It seemed so rugged, and yet also so simple. I want some ice cream, so I’ll just make some. It was like reading about the secrets behind a magic trick.

Obviously, as I got older and became in charge of my own kitchen and what went on in it, I found out that making homemade ice cream was just about as simple as eating homemade ice cream. Once I was gifted an ice cream maker, it was like having a license to print money. Somehow, it seems almost sneaky to make your own ice cream , like you’re totally getting away with doing something that’s meant to be handled only by the likes of professionals. It is also, I have found, slightly addictive. Not just the ice cream itself, I mean, but making the ice cream. Every time I find myself in possession of some interesting chocolate or chilies (or both, because, man have you ever had spicy chocolate ice cream? SO GOOD), or a nice supply of super ripe fruit, my mind immediately turns to thoughts of transforming those goods into a creamy batch of ice cream.

Last week, when it was 95 degrees in Portland, we had just gotten back from our annual trip to San Francisco, where we ate ice cream nearly every single day. This year we rented an apartment across the street from a great gelato place, which meant that we ended up spending an inordinate amount of time there, filling our bellies with gelato. We also, as we do every year, spent a great deal of time getting ice cream form Bi-Rite Creamery, as any ice cream loving person should know to do. I am a huge fan of their brown sugar ice cream with a ginger caramel swirl, so, once we got home to Portland and the heat left me no other choice but to make ice cream, I decided to test drive their brown sugar concept with some fresh nectarines. It’s usually my habit to plump up the flavor of fresh fruit with a bit of lemon juice, but, in the interest of trying something new, I subbed in some lime juice instead. What emerged after my tinkering was a creamy, bright, delightful ice cream with the strong flavor of nectarines balanced by a gentle undertone of sweetness. It was wonderful. It is wonderful. And I suggest you grab yourself an ice cream maker and find out for yourself.

Ice cream, previously: Fresh Ginger Ice Cream, Six Threes Ice Cream, Coconut Lime Frozen Yogurt and Chewy Ginger Cookie Sandwiches

Brown Sugar Nectarine Ice Cream Recipe

1 ¼ pounds pitted, diced ripe nectarines (about 3 large)

1/4 cup water

½ cup light brown sugar

3 egg yolks

1 cup heavy cream

½ cup milk

juice of ½ a lime

¼ teaspoon pure vanilla extract

In a medium saucepan, combine nectarines and water. Bring to a boil, cover, then allow to simmer over medium heat for 8-10 minutes, until the nectarines have broken down and released a great deal of their juices. Set aside to cool.

While the nectarines are cooking, combine brown sugar, egg yolks, and heavy cream in a medium saucepan. Whisk to combine, then heat mixture over medium heat, whisking constantly, until mixture thickens and reaches a temperature of around 170 degrees F. The mixture should coat the back of a spoon, leaving a clean trail when swiped with a finger. Remove from heat, whisk in milk, then place in the refrigerator to cool.

When both mixtures have cooled, combine them in a blender or food processor and blend on high speed until completely smooth and combined. Stir in lime juice and vanilla, then refrigerate until complete cooled, about 2 hours. Alternately, if you don’t want to wait, you can place the nectarine custard mixture in a thin, nonreactive metal bowl, place the metal bowl in larger bowl filled with mostly ice with a bit of water, and stir the mixture as the metal bowl rests in its ice bath. After about 10-15 minutes of careful stirring (being careful not to tip the custard bowl over into the ice water), the mixture will become quite cold.

Freeze mixture in ice cream maker according to manufacturer’s directions.

Makes just under 1 quart of ice cream.