Sunday, March 27, 2011

{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. 


Sunday, February 27, 2011

{He Said} Grandpa

Growing up we were often out with my Grandpa helping him fix fence or various other projects.  It was where I learned how to use the term "gaish blast" to the full effect.  
My Grandpa Moulton and his draft horse


If you happened to be there for breakfast sourdough was usually on the menu in some form.

Three years ago when Katie and I went back for his funeral we all gathered together and had sourdough pancakes.  It was here that we came to love buttermilk syrup and shortly after we got back to Denver we had our own little sourdough start to feed.

Throughout its life it gave us wonderful memories.  The move to Portland, no problem.  Me turning on the oven while it was in there fermenting, BIG problem.  Needless to say for the past couple of months we have been missing sourdough pancakes when we come home from fast Sunday.  It was always so nice to have a quick meal of carbohydrate goodness.

Well, I attempted another start today so maybe next week we can bask in homemade goodness again.

Wish us luck!

Thursday, February 24, 2011

{He said} Clammin'

After living in Maine I learned how to properly pronounce words that I had unknowingly been pronouncing wrong my entire life.  For those of you who may not understand a picture is worth a thousand words.
If you need further instruction in the Maine-iac (or Maine-ard when being mean) dialect the concept is this, if there is an "a" sound at the end of the word you change it to "er".  When there is an "er" sound you change it to "ah" and you can do whatever you want in the middle.

Besides learning the dialect I also learned about clam chowdah, the canned stuff has never been good enough since.  In fact I have never had better since then.

Until now.

Katie learned about the event of Razor clams and decided that before we leave Oregon we needed to experience it.  We booked a hotel and went out to Long Beach, Washington for the weekend.

We stopped by the local hardware store for our "Clam Gun"



This sounds big and bad but it is also more work than I thought it would be.  With these PVC tubes you scoop sand up that hopefully has a clam it.



We were not having much luck until Katie hit up the locals for tips.  After that we struck pay dirt.



We also found some crustaceans that we were not expecting.  My favorite part of the adventure may or may not have been when Katie jumped and squealed at this "clam".



Along with the local wildlife we experienced an unbelievable sunset.



I did my civic duty and returned the crab to the ocean so the sea gulls didn't get her.



I also learned that fresh clams (and my wife) make the best chowdah evah.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

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.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

{He Said} Taking Offense

There is a saying that I often repeat by Brigham Young.


"He who takes offense when no offense is intended is a fool,
and he who takes offense when offense is intended
is a GREATER fool." 



I have tried to live by this and most of the time I do okay, however sometimes lines get crossed where taking offense is not only right thing to do but a moral imperative. 


The following card came with the pajamas that Katie bought for me.





Needless to say I am offended and vehemently disagree.

Monday, August 30, 2010

{She Said} Can she bake a cherry pie, Bart-y boy...

I love an occasional slow, cool, sleepy weekend afternoon. 
Because I get the chance to do up something like this...



And when it actually turns out right {like I vehemently hope this one did}, a kitchen triumph almost
 ~ not quite, but almost
makes up for the hundred and one kitchen disasters that preceded it. 


side note: I foolishly persuaded El Husband to go with me to purchase straight-from-the-farm sour cherries this summer.  The very same ones filling this pie.

The foolish bit?  
The fresh fruit only came in 5-gallon buckets.  
And we bought two. 
{Insert sheepish grin}

Does anyone out there have any good sour cherry recipes?  {Miranda? Natalie? Cheryl?....Anyone?}

Friday, August 27, 2010

{She Said} Girls' Weekend

I'm going to throw a fairly inflammatory comment out here into the ether.

You may get a tad riled up about it.  
You may think I'm barking up the wrong tree. 
You may have a bone to pick with my opinion.  

But trust me, o best beloved reader...I am right on this count, and I simply won't quibble over details:

My husband is the level best man around. 
In fact, he beats the pants off any other husband, hands down.
Here's why...

I recently observed a birthday.  
My request to El Husband regarding said day:  
"Keep it low key, please. A little slice of cake, a nice meal out with you, and some flowers. That would be just right."

Did he listen?
Nope.
Did he comply? 
Not on your life.
Did he go with my request?
Ha!

What he DID do, however, was beyond my wildest hopes. Funded by a super secret Swiss bank account {note to self: look into that}, Mr. Sneaky-Britches purchased clandestine plane tickets, made under-the-table plans, and on a rare golden afternoon, he presented my {mostly} unsuspecting person with two of my near-and-dear girl friends from Denver.  Thus kicked off one of my favorite weekends ever.

These two lady-yahoos descended on the Pacific Northwest in style!  

Our first meal together involved a visit to one of the food cart neighborhoods of this zany city for a dinner of diminutive fried pies.
Becca (l.) & Michelle (r.) at Weezie's Pie Cart, Portland, OR ~ August 2010

Little bitty savory pies for dinner!  Portland, OR

Saturday morning found us roaming the awesome farmer's market in search of all kinds of tasty and pretty.  Somehow I missed documenting the jalapeno popsicle...trust me, it's no great loss. 

Farmer's Market, fresh peaches. August 2010, Portland, OR

Don't know what the heck this flower is, but it's everywhere. And it's lovely


Then we made like pioneers and headed west for a little coastal time. Over two hours in the car, and I think we touched briefly on every topic in our collective circle of knowledge! I think my girls had the nerve to be surprised that the city soaked us in a summery temp around the high 80's, while the coast was a balmy high 60's.  We wandered in the sand, found itty-bitty jellyfish, avoided the seagull carcasses, and gabbed so much that Michelle started to lose her voice. 
Becca and Michelle at the beach~ Oregon~ August, 2010

Of course, we had to find some awesomely tasty sustenance, because I am all about a good lunch.  {Inlander that I am, before I moved here,  I had no idea that fresh clam chowder does NOT have chewy little shoe-leather bits in it.  Apparently, an encounter with truly fresh seafood is not meant to strengthen your jaw muscles.}  
Coastal clam chowder...soooo tasty.
                          
After 20 minutes of inhaling smoke and eating sand, the doggone fire finally came to life, and we dried out a bit. {I took an unexpected dunk up to my waist while trying to cross a "stream" to some rock formations.}
My chicas, thawing out.  August, 2010
Just in case I hadn't consumed my full allotment of gluttony, Michelle introduced me to a hitherto unknown level of bliss: s'mores with a peanut butter cup in lieu of the chocolate square.  Honestly, people, you must get your hands on one of these as soon as possible! 
{Michelle, my waistline is in danger.  And my mouth is sooo happy.}
Peanut-butter cup s'mores, courtesy of Michelle.  August 2010
                          
I am one of the luckiest people ever...great friends, awesome husband, and such a superb birthday weekend treat!  Bart, bless you for this best of all surprises.  Becca and Michelle, thank you for your incredible friendship!
Three yahoos at the beach, August 2010