Coffee Cake: "I feel like a huge idiot! All these years I’ve never tried coffee cake because I don’t like coffee. I didn’t know it didn’t have coffee in it."

Coffee cake cupcakes having a moment in the sun before a taste test with friends.

Often, I read the reviews and comments of the recipes I intend on trying out myself. Usually this is informative, but sometimes it's a little amusing. I don't think it's an uncommon assumption that coffee cake has coffee in it. Let's go along with the idea that it is referred to as coffee cake because it's great with a nice, hot cuppa.

 Blending the brown sugar and cinnamon topping with my favorite tool, the pastry blender.

If this cake were to be named for something that's in it, I'd go with butter. Sure, there's a generous amount of sugar, both brown and white, but who is ever shocked at the amount of sugar in a dessert? Certainly not me. This cake (now is the time you might want to look away if you've already had a slice) contains three sticks of butter. That's around 350g, for the metric folk out there. Before you start crying, I reduced my version down to 250g, or a bit over two sticks of butter. Not really out of fear of cardiac arrest, but rather out of necessity; I only had one brick in the fridge.

The cake batter is thick; be sure to have a rubber scraper on hand because even hard whacking against the counter won't settle your batter evenly in the pan.

If you can get past the outrageous amount of butter, you can begin to appreciate this cake for being remarkably delicious and Ree Drummond at Pioneer Woman for wrangling this out of her mother's recipe binder.

Coffee Cake
 Adapted from Ree at Pioneer Woman
Yields one 9"x13" sheet cake and nine cupcakes

Cake
1 tsp  salt
3  egg whites
1 1/2 sticks (3/4 C or 172g)  unsalted butter, soft
2 scant C (345g)  sugar
1 T  Kahlua or vanilla, optional*
3 C (298g)  all-purpose flour
4 tsp  baking powder
1 C  milk*
1/4 C  plain yogurt*

Topping
5 T (75g)  unsalted butter, cold*
3/4 C (75g)  all-purpose flour
1 1/2 C (302g)  brown sugar (not packed down)
2 T  cinnamon
1 C (130g)  pecans

*These are deviations from the original recipe. These are the original ingredients and amounts: No Kahlua or vanilla, 1 1/4 C whole milk, no yogurt, 1 1/2 sticks (172g) softened butter for the topping.

1. Preheat the oven to 350F (177C) and grease the cake pan and line the cupcake tins.
2. Combine the egg whites and salt and beat until stiff; set aside.
3. Sift together the flour and baking powder; set aside.
4. Cream together the butter and sugar and then mix in the Kahlua and yogurt.
5. Alternately mix in the flour-baking-powder and the milk; do not over mix.
6. Fold in the whites.
7. Combine all the topping ingredients and cut together with a pastry blender.
8. Fill the cake pan and cupcake tins about 2/3 to 3/4 full and sprinkle topping on.
9. Bake the cake 40-45 minutes and the cupcakes 20-25 minutes or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean.
10. Cool to a temperature that won't burn your mouth (room temp is always a safe bet) and enjoy!

Coffee Cake Reflections

 The cake didn't bake up around the topping as much in the sheet pan compared with the cupcakes, but it was just as yummy.

I caught the cupcakes right at the point where the batter goes from goopy to solid, affording me the softest cake I've had in my life. The topping was crisp and a bit crunchy, a very nice contrast to the delicate sponge. This magic is a combination of the right recipe, not over mixing, and pulling the cupcakes from the oven at just the right moment.

The recipe made what I'd consider to be way too much topping for the portions I made. Perhaps if it was all done in a deeper pan or one with more surface area, the amount would have been just right. The topping recipe above is how I did it, so feel free to halve that (reduced butter) or the original recipe.

Something not so magical: My butter had been in the freezer up until I needed it. Sooo it wasn't exactly softened when I went to go cream it. I also, rather mysteriously, threw the sugar in with the other dry ingredients to be sifted. Awesome job, brain. Way to get those synapses firing at full speed at 10:30 in the morning. Despite my rough start, everything came together. The textures and flavors in this cake are pretty perfect. I think it has something to do with all that butter.

The cake made its official debut at a housewarming hosted by my friends at Ming and Milo. It became a part of the wine tasting later in the evening, which featured wines from my home state! If you happen to be in Singapore and are scouring the island nation for the best pairings, they are your guys.

Next Post: Thank Ree @ Pioneer Woman

 

 Crumble topping with cinnamon, brown sugar, and pecans.

I have found another blog to sing the praises of: The Pioneer Woman. Ree Drummond writes about food, photography, life on the ranch, and more. She has a wonderful writing voice and takes beautiful pictures. And she is not afraid of butter. Ree Drummond, I applaud you.

Stand-in taste testers, Sunday evening's dinner party guests, and you readers have her to thank for the next butter-sugar-dairy rich post.

I'll be off the grid over the next three days due to frantic packing, flying from Singapore to Seattle via Tokyo, and face planting into my childhood bed. Maybe add a few more days onto that for my oldest friend's sixth annual Rock Band party, another friend's studio opening, additional face planting, and the pursuit back home food favorites like Cave Man Kitchen. Until then, you can drool over the crumble topping above.

Keep Baking,

X Melissa

French Apple Tart: Is It Still French If I Add Cinnamon?

 

The apple tart on the road to my friends at the dessert bar. Who better to share with and get feedback from?

This is going to sound incredibly cheesy, but bear with me. Do you ever wake up in the morning and just feel inspired? That instant I've-just-got-to-do feeling and you're not even quite sure what it is that you've got that feeling about yet, but you know something is coming?

 I had these apples in the kitchen to have with yogurt and granola for breakfast, but I think they were dedicated to a far greater cause.

That's how I felt Friday. I was itching to bake. It's not as if I was going through withdrawals; I'd made two different batches of cookies, a crepe cake, and a lemon cake the week before. Still, I itched. I knew I didn't want to make more cookies or cakes. Then I thought about fruit and what was in the kitchen. Grapes... Dried cherries... Grapefruit... Apples... Bright green apples... Granny Smith apples. DING DING DING! It was time to make a tart.

 One of my favorite tools in the kitchen: The humble pastry blender. It is used to cut solid fats into dry ingredients, which plays a major roll in achieving the lightest, flakiest pie and tart crusts you can imagine. I hope there are other people that wax poetic about you, pastry blender, because you deserve it.

Google, that brilliant, mildly creepy creature that knows way more than a magic eight ball, gifted Ina Garten's French apple tart recipe to me. Not one to be ignored, the search engine put the Barefoot Contessa's recipe at the top of the list.

 

Measuring out the flour, sugar, salt, and butter for the crust.

French Apple Tart
Adapted from Ina Garten at The Food Network
Halved from the original recipe, makes one 8" round tart

Left: The pastry blender at work. Top right: After using the pastry blender, the dough resembles coarse bread crumbs. Bottom right: The crust pressed into the pie pan and pricked with a fork.

Crust
1 C (100g)  all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp  salt
1/2 T  sugar
6 T (86g)  unsalted butter, cold and cubed
1/4 C  ice water

Quarter inch apple slices.

Apples
2  Granny Smith apples
1 T  sugar*
1 tsp  cinnamon (optional)*
2 T  unsalted butter, cold and diced (softened is fine)
2 T  peach jam*
1/2 T  water*

*All of these are deviations from the original recipe. These are the original ingredients and amounts: 1/4 C sugar, no cinnamon, 1/4 C apricot jelly or sieved jam, 1 T water, Calvados, or rum.

 Butter makes the world go round.

1. Combine the dry crust ingredients (flour, salt, and sugar) and cut the butter in until the mixture resembles coarse crumbles.
2. Add the ice water tablespoon by tablespoon, tossing with a fork after each addition, until the dough just holds together (you don't want it too wet; I only used 2 T).
3. Quickly knead the dough together (just a few turns), wrap, and refrigerate at least an hour or pat it down to about 1/2" thick and keep it in the freezer for 30 minutes.
4. Preheat the oven to 204C (400F).
5. If the dough is in the freezer, remove it and let it sit on the counter while working with the apples. If it's in the fridge, leave it there. Now peel, halve, core, and slice the apples into 1/4" slices. You can toss the finished slices in a little lemon juice if you work slowly and are worried about browning.
6. Roll the dough out to fit your tart or pie tin and press it in. Prick the dough with a fork to prevent warping while baking. (Ina says to line the bottom of the pan with parchment, which I did, but I don't think it's necessary.)
7. Overlap the apple slices in concentric circles on the crust or do whatever looks nice to you.
8. Mix the cinnamon (optional) and sugar, sprinkle it over the apples, and dot with butter.
9. Bake the tart 45-60 minutes, until the crust is brown and the apples have begun to brown.
10. Warm (maybe 10-20 seconds in the microwave) the jam and water, mix, then brush it over the tart.
11. Serve at room temperature or warm.
12. Enjoy!

French Apple Tart Reflections

 It's funny that the light in the cab was better than the light in my apartment, though I'm not surprised.

  This tart is amazing. It's the kind of tart that makes my stand-in big brother at the dessert bar exclaim, "Oh my god. Spectacular." At first, I thought it was a little too tart, but as I ate my way towards the edge of the crust, I realized it was the triple layer of apples at the center that was a bit strong. I placed little slices of apple in the center to support the second ring of slices and then topped the center with a few more slices. Next time, I'll sprinkle a little cinnamon-sugar between the layers.

Also, I sort of cut the sugar topping down by 75% on accident. But what a happy accident that was! I knew sugar was going on top, but I read the crust sugar content again and sprinkled away. This is the way my not-professionally-diagnosed-mild-dyslexia manifests itself. Deliciously. I think the original amount would have cut the tart, Granny Smith flavor way too much. I mean, what's the point of using a sour apple if you smother the defining factor?

 This almost ended up on the cab windshield after some hard breaking. Luckily, I had it clutched in my hands because I didn't want my apple slices to slide around as it cooled. Pie-psychic. Uh, tart-psychic, technically, but pie-psychic sounds sooo much better.

Can I get an electronic hand clap for the cinnamon and jam please? The cinnamon is a throw-back to all my apple pie experiences in the States. I don't know how the French feel about cinnamon on apple tarts, but I think it's mighty fine. Also, I used my favorite peach jam from Organic Himalaya. I, um, didn't sieve it and sure, it was on the aesthetically lumpy side, but my taste buds could care less. I used about half of what the original recipe recommended, and I'd say this was the right choice, since more jam just would have distracted from those awesomely tart apples.

Finally, that crust. Man oh man, that crust! I think I got hung up on the pie crust recipe from my mom's late 1970's/early 1980's edition of The Good Housekeeping Cook Book and never bothered to try anything else, but it had slipped my mind this time and thank goodness for my brain's gentle reminders that I am no spring chicken. The crust is something that would make a person with the munchies' mind spin. Light, softly sweet, flaky beauty.

 Taking the first slice at the dessert bar.

I will definitely be making this again. This tart lands a pretty solid spot on my potential future bakery cafe list. Still, if that bakery cafe never happens, you can rest assured that the tart is easily made at home.

Hollandaise Sauce: I Can Whisk Up the Devil and So Can You!

A Lego display I saw in a mall here recently. I don't know about you, but I typically wouldn't be smiling in that situation.

Two notes:

1. There are no sauce-related pictures for this post because, well, I just didn't think about it during the process (or before it was all consumed). Your reward for visiting (in addition to all this lovely text): random photos from Singapore!
2. In celebration of my last post, I just left a semi-embarrassing "you're my hero" comment on David Lebovitz's post on how to make ice cream without a machine. He initially wrote the post over three years ago and is still dutifully replying to people that leave questions today.
3. Okay, maybe three notes. This sauce is wonderful with savory things, which I will go over in the Reflections section.

Why do I refer to Hollandaise sauce as the devil? It's simply because I find it hard to believe that something comprised of that much cholesterol and fat and deliciousness is not the handy work of Lucifer himself. I'm not a religious person, but something spooky is going on here, along the same twisty-whisky path as mayonnaise.

Hollandaise Sauce

Adapted from the FoodNetwork.com

Yields maybe 1/2 C or so, I'd guess (I didn't measure it, I ate it)

2  yolks

1/2 T  lemon juice

1/4 C (55 g or so) unsalted butter, melted

pinch of salt

the following to taste:

whipping cream

cayenne

black pepper

cumin

paprika

1. Combine the yolks and lemon juice in a heat-resistant bowl and whisk until the volume is doubled.
2. Simmer a few inches of water in a pot and place the bowl over it; whisk vigorously until the mixture is slightly thickened, removing and replacing the bowl over the pot to keep the mixture from scrambling.
3. Stream in the butter while continuing to whisk until the mixture is doubled in volume and thickened.*
4. Remove the mixture from heat and whisk in the "to taste" ingredients as you please.
5. Serve with savory things to add richness and sauciness and sinfulness and enjoy.

*Alternatively, since this impromptu double boiler can be steamy and precarious, you can remove the bowl from the heat, drizzle in some butter, whisk whisk whisk, return to heat, and repeat. There, that wasn't so scary, right?

Hollandaise Sauce Reflections

I tempered the lemon flavor and slightly overly thickened mixture with whipping cream, then added a generous amount of red chili powder (the cheap and therefore less potent substitute for cayenne from my nearby grocer), then a few dashes of the rest of the "to taste" ingredients to add body. I suppose these additions veer from the more traditional recipe I started with, but all the flavors made sense to me. Cooking shouldn't be about hard and fast rules, it should be about what feels and tastes right; that will bring you the most satisfaction in your meals.

The idea for making Hollandaise sauce sprung from excess egg yolks, memories of a brunch weeks past at House, and the prospect of brinner. We love brinner. Last Friday evening, The Resident Taste Tester and I feasted on eggs Benedict with grilled asparagus and pear cider (and sampled the latte ice cream that was still in the process of freezing). The following Saturday, we dined on T-bone steaks with grilled zucchini and microwave "baked" potatoes, with finally set latte ice cream for dessert. Eggs Benedict and steak are lovely ways of consuming Hollandaise sauce, but feel free to have it with salmon, steamed vegetables (it is mighty good with asparagus), and whatever else pleases your palette.

I've read and heard a couple times that Hollandaise sauce is difficult to make, but, um, I didn't have any issues in the grand one time I made it. This is not bragging, believe me, this is simply something that came out fine the first time. So don't be weary of the process, cooking is about eating and learning, but rather the potential cardiac arrest that's in store.

A picture of one of many, many comfy looking kitties that are no doubt being fed left overs around town. This specimen is specific to Arab quarter. I hope this makes up for the lack of goopy sauce photos.

Proud Mama Bear: Julie's First Cupcakes

Julie's first cupcakes: Yellow cake with mini chocolate chips and chopped almonds, topped with chocolate buttercream frosting, chopped almonds, and raspberries. Photo taken and tweeted by DaveDoesDeejay.

A couple of people have asked me lately about whether I could teach them how to bake cupcakes, or just how to bake in general. Though I've been baking for years, I am quite the amateur and have had my fair share of disasters in the oven. Still, I'm more than happy to assist friends and share any insights I have in the kitchen.

Sweet Julie asked me a couple weeks ago at our last big cook up if I could show her how to do cupcakes; we had such great success today. We loosely followed the yellow cake and chocolate frosting recipes, measuring with coffee mugs, hands, various spoons, our eyes, and our taste buds. The results were amazing. All the cupcake styling was done by Julie; she's a natural.

We also made a cake for another person, consisting of the same batter as our cupcakes, another layer of chocolate cake, bananas cooked in butter and light muscovado sugar in between, all with vanilla buttercream frosting and fresh banana slices on top.

We will be baking again.

For those of you afraid of the oven, quiet your fears. Recipe wins and utter fails are a part of learning. As cliche as it sounds, there is a lot to be gained from the experiences that don't come out of the oven as planned. Once you get over the loss of time and ingredients, you'll see what I'm getting at. Check back soon for my epic cake fail!

Keep Baking,

X Melissa

Croissants: A Two Day Affair

My first attempt at making croissants. Not too shabby.

I have read in numerous blogs and recipe websites that croissants are the bane of any amateur baker's existence. A recipe that takes two days, several rounds of touching, rolling, and resting, and could possibly end in disaster for any number of missteps would have anyone shaking in their apron. Naturally I decided to throw myself in the deep end.

Sure, I've made a couple of yeast breads before, but never anything as unanimously daunting as croissants. Knowing I wasn't alone in my fear, I went to the blogs to consult my colleagues in the oven. I settled on the recipe at Not So Humble Pie and advice from Gabi on Mamaliga.com.

It wasn't as heart-breaking a process as I thought it would be. The only minor oops was nearly forgetting to feed the yeast. Woooow. I used to make cinnamon rolls at my university every Saturday morning for nearly a year; how could I forget something as basic as giving the yeast sugar to feed on? Well, I didn't really forget to, I just added it later than the recipe said to. I had mixed the dough and thrown it in the fridge when I realized I hadn't added any sugar. "Odd recipe," I thought. I mused over how there could be anything to fuel the yeast for a moment and then reread the recipe. I simply glazed over the word sugar and went about making a yeast dough without it. Silly. I took the dough out, sprinkled sugar on it, and spun it in the mixer for another minute before sending it back to the fridge for a good sleep.

The croissants actually came out nicely! I halved the recipe because I know the Resident Taste Tester and I do not need eleven full size croissants lurking in the kitchen.

When I took half the dough and made four croissants, I thought they seemed rather large even before they had gone through the last rising phase. They were absolutely  massive by the time they came out of the oven. Unfortunately, the insides were a bit too moist (cooked, no doubt, but heavy with butter) while the outsides were beautiful. I decided to make eight croissants with the remaining dough and these proportions came out so wonderfully crisp and flaky on the outside while soft, fluffy, and buttery on the inside that several were consumed within minutes of hitting the rack to cool.

Croissants

Originally from the CIA, adapted by Not So Humble Pie, and loosely interpreted by me*

Yields 16 croissants

358g (1.5 C)  whole milk, room temperature

14g (1/2oz or 4 1/2 tsp)  yeast

453g (4 C)  bread flour

56g (heaping 1/2 C)  sugar

10g (1 1/2 tsp)  salt (not in the original recipe, but I think it improves it)

40mL (2 T)  molasses (substituted for malt syrup)

71g (heaping 1/2 C) butter, cold but pliable

Roll in:

226g (2/3 C) butter, cold but pliable

Egg wash:

1 egg + 3 T whole milk, beaten

Flour, for rolling out dough

* Volume measurements in parentheses are approximate

1.  Mix the yeast and room temperature milk; set aside for 10 minutes.

2.  Pound the cold butter in a plastic bag (or between sheets of wax paper, etc.) with a rolling pin until pliable (you'll end up with a sheet of butter about a quarter inch thick). If butter becomes too warm, place in freezer until cold again.

3.  Mix flour, salt, and sugar in a large bowl (sift it if you like, but it's not necessary).

4.  Add molasses to the flour mix and cut in the cold but pliable butter coarsely by giving it a quick spin on low with the electric mixer.

5.  Pour the yeast-milk mix over everything and mix on low until the dough becomes unwieldy and begins to reach for the sky (it took about 30 seconds for my dough to start creeping up the beaters).

6.  Replace beaters with dough hooks and continue to mix on low for 3 minutes, then turn up to high and mix for 2 minutes.

7.  Line a baking sheet (that fits in your fridge comfortably) and spread out dough evenly.

8.  Cover with plastic wrap and press out all air bubbles (to prevent strange crusting) before placing it in the fridge for 5+ hours (over night is perfectly acceptable).

9.  Place the cold butter for the roll in between sheets of wax paper or in a plastic bag and beat with the rolling pin until it is a pliable sheet about 9"x13" (slightly larger or smaller is fine). Return it to the fridge to keep cold until you're dough has finished it's 5+ hours in the fridge (you can do this just before you roll out your dough in the next step, but make sure it's cold).

10.  Remove dough from the fridge (it will be less sticky and a bit more puffy than it was 5+ hours ago) and roll out with a pin to about 13"x18" on a well-floured surface (always have flour handy when rolling out the dough to prevent sticking).

11. Now begins the three-part folds and short rests section. Place your cold but pliable roll in butter on your dough and fold the sides of the dough over to cover the butter.

This is sort of what a four-fold looks like. Not perfect, but it will do.

This is a three-fold, and the Resident Taste Tester in the background.

11a.  Roll the dough out to about 13"x18" and fold the ends to the middle and fold again like you are closing a book (see four-fold above). Cover and seal with plastic wrap and return to fridge for 30 minutes.

11b.  Roll out dough again to about 13"x18" and do a three-fold like a business letter or men's wallet (see three-fold above). Cover and seal with plastic wrap and return to fridge for another 30 minutes.

11c.  Roll out dough yet again to about 13"x18", repeat the three-fold, and place in the fridge for the final time for two hours.

12.  Now you can begin to make pretty little crescent shapes. Roll out dough to about 9"x20" and cut into four equal size rectangles. Set three in the fridge (wrapped in plastic of course).

If Bob Ross was baking these, he would call them happy little triangles.

You can see all the layers we folded and rolled in. Happy little triangles indeed.

12a.  Roll out one rectangle to a square (a bit larger than 9"x9") and cut in half to make two rectangles. Cut diagonally across both rectangles to make four triangles.

12b.  Cut a 1" slit at the base of each triangle (the shorter side of the right angle) and roll tightly towards the far tip, stretching the dough as you roll.

12c.  Place rolled dough on a baking sheet (I always line with silicone baking mats), turn in corners slightly to make a crescent shape, and brush with an egg wash. Repeat 12a-c for the rest of the dough, placing 8 or so croissants on each baking sheet and allow to rest for 1 hour at room temperature (until nearly doubled in size).

13.  Preheat oven to 375 F (191 C), do one more egg wash, and bake for 16-20 minutes until nicely brown.

14. Remove to rack and cool (five minutes is generally enough time to cool them so you don't burn your tongue, but use your best judgement).

14. Enjoy!

Croissant Reflections

Croissants basking in the Singapore sun.

I found that the amount of butter originally to roll in was waaay too much for me; the croissants bled butter in the oven partway through and swam in it until they finished baking. Not a terrible thing, just sort of horrifying. The amount of roll in butter I list is reduced by one third.

The original recipe also didn't have any salt in it; I used about half salted and half unsalted butter when I made them and I think they could use a teaspoon or two of salt (while using unsalted butter) to punch things up a bit.

You really have to get the portions and timing right to get perfectly crisp, flaky, brown croissants on the outside and fluffy, soft, layers upon layers of yum on the inside. Experiment a bit and granted yours don't burn, you'll have delectable, rich croissants and an air of buttery bread throughout your home for a couple of days.

Lovely flaky layers glistening in the early afternoon light. Perhaps all the butter will deepen that tan.