If there’s one aspect of Thanksgiving dinner that is a conundrum for me, it’s dessert. As much as I love to cook and entertain and shake up interesting cocktails, I have an irrational fear around making pastry dough. And wouldn’t you know it? All the classic Thanksgiving desserts are pies.
My personal preference for dessert leans toward the fruity, nutty crumble or cobbler kinds of things or lighter, citrusy things, such as key lime pie, with a crumb crust that doesn’t require rolling out a flaky dough.
But certain flavors and textures are expected on Thanksgiving, so when I bumped into this sweet potato cheesecake recipe last year, I found it to be a perfect mashup of holiday tradition and ease of preparation. It was pretty darn delicious, too.
Rather than graham crackers in the base, I used Biscoff cookies— you know, the ones they give you on the airplane? They are crispy, buttery (though there’s no butter in them) and very cinnamon-y, a nice backdrop to the creamy sweet potato filling in the cheesecake. The cookies were sweet enough that I also reduced the sugar called for in the crust, and I skipped the extra cinnamon altogether.
You know what else would be great here? Ginger snaps!
Another favorite seasonal flavor
I also substituted real maple sugar in place of the regular sugar called for in the recipe, in keeping with the season and also because I happen to love the maple flavor. Everything else about the recipe was the same— roasted sweet potato, cream cheese, sour cream, vanilla and warm spices. Then free-range eggs, one at a time, and into the pre-baked crust— gently, of course, so as to not disturb the no-fuss crust.
A food processor makes the filling a breeze!
Topping on the side, please
Next, I did not spread the sweetened sour cream topping over the entire cake before serving. The Kitchn version of this cheesecake was gorgeous, but we had a small gathering and I knew we would need to store the leftovers in the fridge. I made the topping— also with maple sugar— and saved it to dollop onto the individual pieces at serving time.
Sour cream keeps the topping from being too sweet, and it holds its shape beautifully in the fridge until serving time!
The dreaded water bath!
Finally, and this was the big one for me, I found a way around the usual “water bath” that is recommended for baking cheesecake. The process of wrapping up a springform pan with layers and layers of aluminum foil so that it can be surrounded with two to three inches of hot water in the oven is nothing but a big fat hassle. If even a small tear happens in that foil, water gets in and ruins the whole expensive thing. I wonder why, after so many years of springform pan baking, hasn’t someone developed a leak-proof version? Can we bring in the engineers who figured out the walk-in bathtub? That’s the technology we need here.
If they can do this, WHY can’t they make a leak-proof springform pan?
So, in my frustration, I did some research on the water bath method for cheesecakes and here’s what I learned: it isn’t the hot water that keeps the cheesecake from splitting or overbaking, it’s the steam! The cheesecake needs a very humid environment for slow and gentle cooking, but the cheesecake doesn’t need to actually be in the water for the steam to work. Though I had already wrapped my pan in foil, I went rogue at the last minute with a gigantic steam pan underneath my cheesecake, and watch what happened.
I was thrilled with the results of my last-minute decision!
My cheesecake was perfect! As with any cheesecake recipe, the instructions said to bake it until the filling was set but the center was “still slightly wobbly,” and I cooled it in the oven for about an hour before taking the thing out. There was no water in my cake, no drama trying to lift it from the water bath, and no cracks on top.
All in all for me? A Thanksgiving dessert that was, dare I say, a piece of (cheese)cake.
Where’s the recipe?
This is where you’d usually find a click-to-print recipe on my blog, but today I’m comfortable redirecting you to the original source. My adjustments, though meaningful to me, were slight, and I found the tips and instructions on The Kitchn to be clear and helpful. If you’re feeling inspired, go get it!
Happy Thanksgiving to my friends, followers and visitors!
To say that I love a bargain is an understatement. I’ve never fawned over the vanilla-scented gourmet kitchen stores at the mall— the ones that sell the high-dollar pan sets, expensive crystal, and pre-made mixes for quick breads and specialty gravy bases. Those stores are filled with lovely things, don’t get me wrong. But you’re more likely to find me pacing the aisles at T.J. Maxx, Home Goods and Big Lots, where I’ve found many a bargain. I’m not talking about low prices for cheap items, but the way. It’s quality at a better price that I want, and I’m willing to take my chances with the unpredictability of these bargain stores’ inventories.
For example, my Italian-made pasta rolling machine that had been on my wish list for at least two Christmases (if not for the $100+ price tag), jumped into my cart unexpectedly about 12 years ago for the low, low price of— well, zoom in on the picture below and see for yourself. The exact item sells today at the vanilla-scented store for $149.95. I’d rather apply that hundred-dollar savings to the food I will make with the thing and just sniff my own bottle of vanilla at home as I delight in my good fortune.
Likewise, my Braun immersion blender, which is still going strong after pureeing hundreds of soups and cheese sauces for the past 15 years, only set me back $17. Could we please have a moment of silence for Tuesday Morning? Thank you. Oh, how I miss that store.
Another super find that has served me well is my Cuisinart Pure Indulgence 2-quart ice cream maker, and this was a major scoop at only $49, but wait, it gets better! I bought this when Big Lots was still doing its old rewards program of 20% off an item after 10 purchases of $20 or more. In other words, I only spent $39 for an ice cream machine that retailed for more than double that price. The purchases I made to get that discount were staple items that I would have bought anyway— mostly Bob’s Red Mill products and cleaning supplies.
It’s the thrill of the hunt that I love, but I also enjoy having these quality items in my cabinets because they make it easier for me to produce delicious foods for myself and my loved ones. Plus, I can count on them to last a long time.
This past week, I made my latest ice cream— using my Cuisinart machine, of course— and though I don’t usually post two desserts in a row, I decided to share this right away for a couple of reasons. First, it’s super easy and might take some pressure off my foodie friends as we all plan the various holiday meals on the horizon. Second, it’s a natural follow-up to a question posed by my New Jersey blog buddy, Bernadette, in the comments section of my pumpkin chai blondies post a few days ago. I’m keeping good on my promise. 😁
Here it is, Bern— not maple, but cinnamon, and I think you’re gonna love it! The base takes mere minutes to make, and the ingredient list is short: just cinnamon stirred into sweetened condensed milk (fat-free is totally fine here), then milk and heavy cream, plus a little splash of vanilla (or vanilla bean paste, if you’re me).
It’s worth mentioning that the cinnamon and vanilla bean paste were purchased at Home Goods, in the gourmet foods section. 🙂
I chilled the base thoroughly in the fridge for a few hours, and then my Cuisinart churned it into silky ice cream in about 25 minutes. Into the freezer for overnight ripening, and it was done.
This cinnamon ice cream is the little black dress of the holiday dessert table— versatile and perfect for any type of occasion. It was a great complement to the pumpkin chai blondies, but it would also be a stunning sidekick to my pal Christine’s mile high apple pie, or the festive fig butter cranberry apple galette that I made last fall. How about chocolate cake or pecan pie or— well, what desserts are you making this holiday season that would be good with a sweet scoop of cinnamon ice cream?
This easy-to-make ice cream is creamy, delicious on its own, and pairs nicely with nearly any autumn or holiday dessert.
Ingredients
14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk (regular or fat-free, see recipe notes)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
2 teaspoons vanilla extract or 1 Tablespoon vanilla bean paste
1 Tablespoon vodka (optional, added in the final minute for improved texture)
Notes: When you mix the ice cream base, add the cinnamon to the sweetened condensed milk first. Ground spices tend to “float” on liquids, so this helps to incorporate it into the mix before the thinner liquids are added.
I’ve found the fat-free version of condensed milk perfectly acceptable for making ice cream, with only one caveat: plan to use the ice cream within a couple of days of making it, or the texture may become more icy than creamy.
Directions
Combine sweetened condensed milk and cinnamon in a large bowl and whisk to thoroughly incorporate the cinnamon. Whisk in milk, cream and vanilla. Cover the bowl and refrigerate until the mixture is thoroughly chilled, at least a couple of hours.
Set up your ice cream machine. Gently whisk the ice cream base to re-blend any ingredients that may have settled during chilling. Pour the ice cream base into the machine and churn according to manufacturer’s instructions. My Cuisinart gets this done in about 25 minutes. Add vodka during the final minute of churning to make the ice cream easier to scoop directly from the freezer (omit this step if the ice cream will be served to children or other non-drinkers).
Transfer the ice cream to an insulated freezer container and freeze at least eight hours, preferably 24 hours, to ripen.
Is it fair to call these autumn-hued bar cookies “blondies?” Unlike classic blondies, which have a light golden color and are basically just chocolate chip bar cookies, these stunningly brilliant treats practically scream fall, with a deep orange color born from half a can of pumpkin puree. What else shall we call them— russets? Auburns?
They are still in essence a “blondie,” which is meant to have all the delightfully chewy texture of brownies, just without the cocoa. But these have a lot more going on, with add-ins of white and dark chocolate chips and crunchy pecan bits on top (well, half of it, anyway). There’s a lot to love here, and I have no doubt there are many other add-ins that would be great.
What do you think— maybe dried cranberries or butterscotch chips?
Let’s start with the fact that they satisfy any craving for pumpkin and spice— though this recipe does incorporate a more assertive spice blend than most “pumpkin spice” foods. To kick these up a few notches, I used equal parts Vietnamese cinnamon and chai spice, an Indian-inspired blend of cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, anise and black pepper (yes, really). The bold spices gave these blondies an edge over some of the too-sweet, ordinary desserts you find in a supermarket bakery, and the flavor is still familiar but with a little special something.
I’ve been looking for ways to sneak pumpkin into so many things.
The downside of baking with pumpkin puree is that most recipes I’ve tried tend to be more cake-like than chewy— which is great when you want a cupcake, but not so much if you crave a cookie or blondie— and this is because of the high moisture content of the canned pumpkin. To counter this, I pulled a trick from the King Arthur Baking playbook, which is to cook the pumpkin puree until it is somewhat caramelized. The result is a thicker, more concentrated pumpkin flavor and a denser, more fudge-like texture of the finished auburns— er, blondies. I cooked mine with a bit of the brown sugar from the recipe, and the result was almost like pumpkin butter. So good!
I had a weird clump in my brown sugar container, so I dissolved it by cooking it with the pumpkin.
For additional autumn-inspired flavor, this recipe leans on browned butter, which is very easy to make though I don’t recommend trying to do it while multitasking the other components of the recipe. Browning butter takes very little effort but quite a bit of attention. Look away long enough to measure out your flour or caramelize your pumpkin, for example, and you may just find that the butter has turned to a charred, blackish liquid. I guess you can tell that I’m speaking from experience! 🤷🏻♀️
My butter was off to a good start, but it went too far. Oops!
My second attempt went much better!
Other than that, it’s a typical dessert recipe— flour (I used part whole wheat), baking powder, egg, sugar (light brown, in this case), splash of vanilla and some white and dark chocolate chips just for fun. For a little extra something, I also scattered pecan bits over half of the blondies after spreading it out into the baking pan. This is optional, and if you have any guests who cannot digest nuts, follow my lead and sprinkle the nuts on half. Everyone wins!
These came together really easily.
This was a fun fall dessert that would be nice for a casual Thanksgiving meal, the kids’ table, a brunch with friends, a treat for a special teacher or perhaps a snack for visiting grandkids that’s a bit healthier without them knowing it! As for us, we enjoyed it warmed 30 seconds in the microwave with a small scoop of ice cream. Delish!
Cooking the pumpkin puree before mixing the batter keeps this autumn-hued blondies nice and chewy, and the flavor will make you wish for fall to linger a little longer.
Ingredients
2 sticks unsalted butter
1 cup pumpkin puree
1 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 large egg, room temperature
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup white whole wheat flour
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. ground chai spice blend
1 tsp. kosher salt (I used Diamond crystals)
3/4 tsp. baking powder
1 cup white chocolate chips
1 cup dark chocolate chips
1/2 cup pecan bits (optional, or 1/4 cup for half the blondies)
Directions
Melt the butter in a saucepan, swirling frequently and watching carefully to prevent burning. Cook melted butter until it takes on a deep golden color and has a nutty aroma. Allow it to cool for about half an hour.
Meanwhile, add pumpkin puree and a few tablespoons of the brown sugar to a second saucepan. Cook over medium heat, stirring almost constantly, until sugar is dissolved and pumpkin puree has reduced slightly. Cool completely before proceeding.
Preheat oven to 350° F, with oven rack in center position. Line a 9 x 13 baking pan with parchment paper, keeping a little extra to overhang for easy lifting of the blondies from the pan after baking.
In a large mixing bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with paddle), stir together browned butter and remaining brown sugar until evenly combined. Add reduced pumpkin puree and egg. Beat until combined.
In a medium bowl, whisk together flours with spices, baking powder and salt. Add half the flour mixture to the butter mixture, folding just until all the dry ingredients are incorporated. Repeat with remaining flour blend. Gently fold in chocolate chips. The batter will be very thick and dense.
Spread batter evenly over parchment-lined baking pan. Sprinkle pecan chips over all or half the blondies, if desired. Bake for 30 minutes, or until blondies are set but not overly dry. Remember that they will continue to cook for a few minutes after removal. As with brownies, the type of pan may affect the outcome. For a glass pan, add a few extra minutes to the baking time.
Cool for about 30 minutes before using parchment to lift blondies from the pan. Cut into squares for serving. Keep leftover blondies wrapped or in a sealed container, at room temperature for up to three days.
These warm up beautifully in the microwave (give them 30 to 45 seconds on high), and they are delicious served with a scoop of ice cream.
How in the world can an ice cream stir up such a mixed bag of emotions? That’s what I have been asking myself for the past week as I wrestled with the decision to share this post. I almost didn’t even bother, but it seems so appropriately timed to tonight’s “blue supermoon,” an astronomical phenomenon that we haven’t seen since 2009 and won’t see again until 2037. So, I reasoned, it was now or never.
But oh, the drama! Allow me to explain.
For me personally, a very specific childhood event involving this ice cream dredges up difficult feelings about being gaslighted into becoming a timid kid. I’ll spare you the dreadful details, but in some weird, wishful-thinking way, I thought that revisiting the event by making this ice cream would redeem those feelings. It didn’t, but that is not the ice cream’s fault.
The recipe itself is a bit of an enigma, given that nobody really seems to know for sure what flavors go into blue moon ice cream, and I struggled with my own memory to describe the flavor of it, which is “fruity,” but not specific to a single fruit. Is it raspberry or lemon? Almond or vanilla? In my memory, it tasted like some mashup of bubble gum, cotton candy and tropical fruit punch. Oh, and with pineapple bits. And that’s where this adventure began to go off the rails.
I pulled several extracts from my pantry for this experiment.
My search for an inspiration recipe for blue moon ice cream turned up massive volumes of denials of my own memory of it. Nearly every recipe on the internet emphatically declares (often in all caps) that “blue moon DOES NOT contain pineapple!” But here’s the problem— I was there during my childhood and the blue moon ice cream I had most certainly did contain pineapple; in fact, it was the pineapple that I remember most. Lovely little bits of crushed pineapple amid all that artificially teal ice cream base. Another thing that struck me odd about the online recipes I found was that most of them included a package of instant vanilla pudding, which sounds so wrong to me. What would instant pudding add to an ice cream, I wondered, besides more artificial flavoring? Wasn’t the teal blue color artificial enough? My iPhone camera certainly thought so!
The discrepancy of opinion on the flavor of this ice cream, and especially the pineapple, apparently results from the fact that blue moon originated in the Midwest— Michigan to be specific— and my experiences of it were in upstate New York. What I enjoyed as a kid was obviously an adaptation of the original recipe, but it was still sold as “blue moon.” Was I wrong to enjoy it that way? I can not bear this level of gaslighting.
If the argument around this was not turbulent enough, I also had the unfortunate experience of damaging my fancy new French-made food processor in the making of my blue moon ice cream. As I have done many times before, I used my processor to pulse partially frozen pineapple into smaller chunks, and this was to be mixed into the blue base at the end of churning in my ice cream freezer. But something went terribly wrong, and my processor is currently on a UPS truck, headed to the service center for a warranty repair. Was this the universe’s way of confirming that pineapple is NOT meant to be in blue moon ice cream? Good golly, what chaos!
The stem of my food processor was stripped in the process of this misadventure.
After all my tinkering with the raspberry, vanilla, lemon and almond, plus the addition of the pineapple, I’m still not sure I got it right (Les disliked it so much, he didn’t even finish a serving of it). Perhaps the proof is in the pudding, but I have neither the time nor the motivation to make blue moon ice cream again right away. At the end of this ridiculous string of events, I decided that it was at least worth sharing because it does move an item to the done column of my culinary bucket list, and just in time for tonight’s blue supermoon. Blue moon ice cream is now completed, and even though I didn’t particularly appreciate the resulting flavor, I did learn an important lesson, which can be summed up in a line from a Don Henley tune:
Out on the road today, I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. A little voice inside my head said, “don’t look back, you can never look back.
Don Henley ~ “The Boys of Summer”
I wish I had left blue moon ice cream in my memories, where it still held mystery and intrigue. It could be that 11-year old Terrie enjoyed it just because it was different from the mint chocolate chip ice cream that everyone else my age was screaming for that summer. I probably should have followed my own advice about recipes and disregarded the “alternate facts” presented by so many others on the internet regarding the pineapple. Finally, if I hadn’t pushed so hard to make sense of the whole thing, I could be making hummus or spiralizing zucchini or pureeing fresh tomatoes into gazpacho today. Instead, I’m checking the UPS tracking to be sure my food processor arrives at the warranty service center in one piece. I hope it get it back in time for Thanksgiving.
As for the blue supermoon, I wanted to be excited about it as well. Supermoons are fairly common during the summer, but the odds of a blue moon (second full moon during a single month) also being a supermoon (appearing closer and larger than usual) are extraordinary. The blue supermoon will be a spectacle to behold, beginning after 9pm ET tonight. But I learned today that this supermoon— which is expected to exaggerate high tide— will likely wreak additional havoc on the gulf coast of Florida, where folks are already underwater from Hurricane Idalia.
At least I know my ice cream didn’t cause that.
For those of you wishing to recreate this astronomical mishap, here’s an easy, click-to-print recipe for you. Pineapple, of course, is optional. 😉
This recipe is my best effort at recreating a childhood favorite. Adjust the flavors to your liking, and decide for yourself whether to add the pineapple.
Ingredients
14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk (regular or fat free is fine)
1 cup whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
1 1/2 tsp. almond extract
1 1/2 tsp. raspberry extract
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. pure lemon oil
1/8 tsp. Fiori di Sicilia extract (optional, and probably redundant to the lemon and vanilla)
2 Tbsp. cream of coconut (for extra sweetness)
1/2 tsp. blue food coloring gel (this is more concentrated than liquid colorant)
1/2 cup pineapple tidbits (added during final few minutes of churning)
Most recipes for the “Midwest” version of blue moon ice cream do not include the pineapple, so adding them is entirely up to you. The ice cream I knew and loved from my childhood in Western N.Y. included pineapple, so my nostalgia required it. 😉
Directions
Combine condensed milk, whole milk and heavy cream in a large mixing bowl or pitcher.
Stir in extracts, a little at a time if you wish, and adjust flavors to taste. Stir in food coloring gel. Refrigerate until base is completely chilled.
Freeze according to manufacturer’s instructions, adding partially frozen pineapple bits during the final few minutes.
Transfer to an insulated ice cream container and freeze several hours to overnight, until firm.
My cousin, Annie, has a wicked sense of humor. Wicked, meaning funny, but also just a little bit wicked. During my visit last month at her lake house in Connecticut, Annie caught me off guard with what seemed like would be important, somber information.
“OK, listen” she began, cracking open a tall pantry door next to the kitchen of her sweet, cozy cottage. “If something happens to me, and you guys have to come here to the lake after I’m gone…”
“Yes,” I said, swallowing hard at that awful thought, as she pointed to a lower shelf inside the cabinet.
“Here’s where you’ll find the stuff for s’mores.”
Honest to God, I don’t know how she keeps a straight face when she delivers a punchline like that. But one thing is for sure, if there is an opportunity to bring joy to any situation or gathering, she has it covered— including s’mores, which we enjoyed as we relaxed in front of her patio fireplace, with the backdrop of gentle lapping sounds of the lake and an occasional bullfrog bellowing somewhere off in the distant darkness.
Who doesn’t have fun s’mores memories? The sweet little campfire sandwich of graham crackers, chocolate bar and toasted marshmallow has been a favorite of mine since I was a kid, and I was thrilled a few years ago to learn that the sugary treat has been awarded its very own day of celebration— National S’mores Day! Each August 10th since I started Comfort du Jour, I have presented a fun interpretation of s’mores. In 2020, it was a duo of treats with a s’mores cocktail and dessert pizza. In 2021, I gave you s’mores ice cream. Last year, those ooey-gooey s’mores brownies. And this year, well, it isn’t really a surprise, is it?
Behold, s’mores cupcakes!
These turned out to be everything I wanted!
With a sweet honey-graham cake base, hollowed out for a dark-and-milk chocolate ganache filling, and topped with a homemade marshmallow frosting (toasted, of course), this may be my favorite s’mores treat to date.
I’d been scouting out component recipes for these for several months, and finally nailed it down after flipping through a special edition Food Network Magazine, called “The Cupcake Cookbook.” The pages held all kinds of cupcake creations, from fruit to spice to chocolate and vanilla, plus numerous flavors and types of frosting, icing and glaze. It was their recipe for “honey-graham cupcakes” that sealed the deal for my s’mores recipe, but I did (of course) put my own spin on them, using honey in place of sugar for an extra-sweet, extra-“graham-y” impression.
I had this cocoa-infused honey that I had picked up on an earlier trip to Asheville, N.C., where we go occasionally to visit my husband’s adult daughter. I suspected that the cocoa infusion would lend itself nicely to the s’mores vibe, and I was correct. The honey has been in my cabinet for about a year, so it was fairly crystallized, but the texture was no problem for my baked recipe.
One of the things that appealed to me about the Food Network cupcake recipe is that it included actual crushed graham crackers. I was guaranteed to have the flavor I wanted, along with a slightly grainy feel from the already baked crumbs mixed into the cupcake batter. To crush the graham crackers, I piled a couple sleeves of them into my bullet-style blender and pulsed them for about 20 seconds, until they were reduced to a fine powder. I had the 3/4 cup of crumbs that I needed, plus 1/4 cup left over that I figured I’d use in the topping.
With all my ingredients lined up and measured, I was finally ready to bake!
Generally speaking, you can swap honey for sugar in a baking recipe, but you must take a few things into consideration, which I learned thanks to this article from an online honey supplier. Following those tips, I made the following adjustments:
used less honey than the sugar amount called for (because honey is sweeter)
reduced the milk amount slightly (because honey is also somewhat liquid)
added a touch of baking soda to balance the acidic effect of the honey
reduced the baking temperature a bit (because honey burns more easily than sugar), and slightly increased the baking time to compensate
I have accounted for all of those adjustments in my instructions, but the click-to-print recipe below also describes how the recipe should look if you’re using sugar to sweeten the cupcakes.
The ganache filling was the simplest component of this recipe; nearly equal parts chocolate— I used a combination of dark and milk chocolate for this— and heavy cream heated to just-shy of boiling. If you’ve never made ganache, you might be surprised how simple it is. Just heat the cream, pour it over the chocolate so it’s complete covered, wait 10 minutes, and stir to blend. Don’t be alarmed if the mixture seems very runny at first— it will thicken and firm up a bit as it cools. I wanted the ganache to be soft but not too messy, so I used slightly more chocolate than cream. In hindsight, equal parts would have been fine.
When the cupcakes were cooled, I used my apple corer tool to carefully cut out a plug shape bit of cake, keeping those pieces intact, to place back on top of the ganache, which I spooned inside the cupcake cavity. I didn’t mind that the tops didn’t sit flush with the cakes, because the whole thing would soon be buried in marshmallow frosting anyway. I had some ganache left over after filling the cupcakes, so I warmed it over hot water back to a spreadable consistency, and glazed the top of each cupcake, and then sifted some of the remaining graham crumbs on top as a bed for the marshmallow frosting.
Almost done! I agonized a bit over which frosting recipe to use, and considered one in the Food Network Cupcake magazine, but it sounded more like meringue than frosting, and I wanted mine to be stable enough to keep its shape without getting watery. I finally found a “marshmallow frosting” recipe online that sounded more hefty, and about the time I got to the step to “whip it with a mixer for seven minutes over simmering water,” it occurred to me that this was exactly the same as a topping that my grandmother frequently made during her having-company-over days.
Corn syrup prevents crystallization.Start the frosting off the heat.Place over steaming water and continue beating.After 7 minutes, the eggs are cooked and soft peaks form.Vanilla goes in at the end.Marshmallow frosting!
Turns out, seven-minute frosting is essentially marshmallow creme. I suppose you could probably just top the cupcakes with store-bought marshmallow creme, but by this time, my frosting was already done and I did enjoy piping the stuff onto the cupcakes— it made me feel like a real baker!
The only thing left to do was was toast the marshmallow topping. Having never done this before, and not wanting to ruin my pretty little s’mores cupcakes, I piped out some of the leftover marshmallow frosting onto a sheet of foil, and hit the dollops with my culinary torch to practice. Would you believe, this turned out to be the simplest part of the recipe?! The frosting toasted beautifully, and it stayed pretty for a few days after I made the cupcakes.
Incidentally, I had enough marshmallow frosting left over to cover at least two more batches of cupcakes, and most of the extra went to waste because I didn’t have a plan ready for using it. Perhaps I could have whipped up a quick batch of Krispie treats— and that of course, gives me an idea for National S’mores Day next year. 😉
With a sweet honey-graham cake base, hollowed out for a dark-and-milk chocolate ganache filling, and topped with a homemade marshmallow frosting (toasted, of course), this may be my favorite s’mores treat to date. There are three components of this treat, and I've described each separately below.
Ingredients
3/4 cup honey graham crackers, crushed fine (see notes)
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/8 tsp. baking soda (omit if using sugar in place of honey)
1/2 tsp. salt
1 stick unsalted butter
1/2 cup honey (or 1 cup granulated sugar)
2 eggs
2 tsp. real vanilla extract
1/2 cup milk (minus 2 tablespoons if using honey)
Notes: Butter, eggs and milk should be at cool room temperature. Remove them from refrigerator about one hour before you plan to start the recipe.
To get a fine crush on the graham crackers, I broke them up into my bullet-style blender and processed them for about 15 seconds. Sift through them with your fingers to remove any remaining chunks. I used two wrapped packs of “Fresh Stacks” crackers, and had about 1/4 cup of crumbs left over, which I sprinkled on top of the ganache before frosting.
Directions
Preheat oven to 330° F (or 350° F if using sugar), and line cupcake pan with foil liners.
Combine crumbs, flour, baking powder, soda and salt in a medium bowl and set aside.
In a stand mixer, cream butter on medium speed until light and airy, about one minute. Add honey and beat on medium speed until fluffy and evenly blended, about four more minutes. Scrape down sides of the bowl.
Add one egg at a time, beating to blend after each. Scrape down sides of the bowl. On low speed, beat in one-third of the flour mixture just until no visible dry ingredients remain. Beat in half of the milk. Repeat with dry ingredients, then milk, then final dry ingredients. Scrape down sides.
Scoop cupcake batter into lined cupcake pan. Each cup should be about 2/3 filled.
Bake 25 to 30 minutes (less if using sugar), until cupcakes are golden and spring back easily when touched in the center.
Cool cupcakes in pan 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
While the cupcakes are baking, prepare the ganache filling. It’s best to fill the cupcakes while the ganache is still somewhat warm and easily drizzled.
Ingredients
2/3 cup quality chocolate, wafers or bars preferred over chips
1/2 cup heavy cream
Directions
Add chocolate pieces to a medium bowl. Heat cream to just-shy of boiling point. Pour cream over chocolate and let sit 10 minutes.
Gently whisk or stir cream and chocolate together until evenly blended. This will seem impossible at first, but within one minute, it should be glossy and silky.
When cupcakes are completely cool, used an apple corer tool or paring knife to carefully cut a one-inch plug from the center of each cupcake. Set these aside.
Use a spoon to drizzle the warm ganache into each cupcake hole, then press the plugs back onto the cupcake. Carefully glaze the filled cupcakes with any remaining ganache. Scatter some of the remaining graham crumbs over the top and cool completely while you make the marshmallow frosting.
To prepare the frosting, you will need an electric hand mixer and a double boiler or a large, heatproof bowl that will fit over, but not inside, a medium saucepan. Be sure the mixing bowl and beater blades are completely clean, as any amount of oil or fat on them will prevent the egg whites from forming peaks.
Ingredients
2 egg whites, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar (I used a 50/50 mix of cane sugar and superfine caster sugar)
Bring a medium saucepan of water to a slight boil over medium heat. The water should not be high enough to touch the bottom of the bowl used in the next step.
In the heatproof bowl, combine all ingredients except vanilla. Do not place the bowl over the hot water yet.
Use a hand mixer to whip the frosting ingredients together. Start on low speed and increase slightly when the mixture starts to get frothy. After a minute or two, place the bowl over the simmering water.
Continue to whip with the mixer for 7 minutes, until all the sugar has dissolved and soft peaks form in the frosting. Remove from heat.
Add vanilla and beat again just until incorporated. Cool a few minutes before frosting cupcakes.
Load frosting into a piping bag with a wide, round tip. Pipe frosting onto cupcakes.
Use a culinary torch to carefully toast the marshmallow topping. Cool before enjoying.
It’s interesting to me that some foods have their own variations in different parts of the country. Take barbecue, for example. Depending on where you go— Texas, Kansas City or the Carolinas— you might be presented with dry-rubbed beef brisket, saucy ribs or burnt ends, or slow-braised, pork shoulder with vinegar sauce. And for sure, natives of each area will proclaim theirs to be the “true” barbecue, the best or most authentic. It is, of course, a matter of opinion and upbringing.
The same can be said for peach cobbler. Here in the South, most cobblers I’ve had at church potlucks, diners or restaurants resemble another popular dessert here, the dump cake. Everything gets slopped into a pan, usually with the batter on the bottom and the fruit on top, and somehow during the baking process, the dough finds its way to rise up through the peaches. It’s tasty, but a bit soupy and mostly a mushy texture— definitely not the peach cobbler of my childhood, and we all know that comfort food is what you remember from those early days. So I’m about to say something that irritates Southerners more than anything else, ever:
Sweet juicy peaches, tossed with sugar, corn starch and a touch of cinnamon, cooked until tender and saucy under a crown of tender biscuits that have just a touch of crunch on the edges. Crystals of sugar on top that add a little extra something with each bite. Served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. That, to me, is a real deal peach cobbler. As the sun sets on National Ice Cream month this year, I’ve transformed that favorite summer dessert into a single, glorious scoop of peach cobbler ice cream.
This recipe is my own, developed out of my experience with several other past recipes, with and without peaches. To explain how I got here, it makes sense to share what I’ve learned from past efforts and mistakes.
What’s the best way to make ice cream with fruit?
Too many fresh fruit bits can make the finished ice cream feel too icy. I learned this especially when I made a strawberry-mascarpone ice cream a few years ago. Fruit, especially fresh fruit, contains a great deal of moisture, and when you freeze it, ice crystals form inside, making for an unpleasant bite that hurts my teeth. One day, I will re-work that recipe to improve the texture. But to counter the icy effect in this peach cobbler ice cream, I cooked the peaches, borrowing a technique I learned recently when I made that heavenly, boozy strawberry daiquiri cake. Cooked fruit loses volume as the moisture evaporates, but all the flavor remains, so I peeled and pureed a couple of peaches, then cooked them down into a sticky, concentrated peach paste. I still embellished the ice cream with a few bits of fresh peach for pops of color and flavor, but the ice cream gets most of its peachy keen flavor from the puree.
A touch of brown sugar in the puree made this extra delicious!
How do you incorporate other foods into an ice cream?
I’ve had to get a little creative with some ingredients, because adding the ingredient directly would have resulted in a weird texture. For my s’mores ice cream, I wanted every element of a s’more— the melty chocolate, toasty marshmallow, the sweet graham cracker— but can you imagine what would happen if I tried to swirl actual melted chocolate into an ice cream base? Yep, a big mess. Same with toasted marshmallows, which just get hard and sticky in the refrigerator, let alone the freezer. My solution for that ice cream was to use a dark chocolate syrup to play the role of the Hershey square, and a marshmallow fluff-cream cheese mixture to stand in for the toasted marshmallow element. It was delicious, but I’ve been hankering for a re-do on that one as well, so stay tuned! For this peach cobbler ice cream, I wanted the “biscuit” texture that I loved in my up-north cobblers, but a plain old biscuit would have been dry and crumbly. That’s when I remembered one of my baking class experiences at King Arthur earlier this month— we made scones!
Thanks to Michelle, my baking partner, for taking this picture! It was such a hectic day, I forgot! 🙂
What’s the difference between a biscuit and a scone?
Scones are similar to biscuits in that they use a chemical leavening— baking powder, in this instance— but different because the dough usually incorporates more sweetness and an egg for richness and texture. At the tail end of my Bread: Principles & Practice class, we whipped up a batch of scones as we waited for another bread recipe to do its thing. The scones were delightfully tender, like a biscuit, but sweeter, softer and almost cookie-like. That, I decided, would be a perfect solution for the “cobbler” element of my ice cream, and would you believe it? King Arthur Baking has a recipe for tender peach scones! I whipped up half a batch (exactly as written, if you can imagine), and crumbled two of them to layer in my ice cream.
These drop scones were deliciously peachy, with a tender, almost spongy texture.
I hope I always find something new to learn in the kitchen. This is my blue ribbon-hopeful peach cobbler ice cream, my final bow for this year’s National Ice Cream Month. Enjoy!
A cooked puree of peaches adds a concentrated fruit flavor to the base of this ice cream, and tender peach scones provide the 'cobbler' element.
Ingredients
3 fresh, ripe peaches (you’ll puree two and dice the third)
2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice (divided between peaches above)
1 Tbsp. light brown sugar
14 oz. sweetened condensed milk (regular or fat free)
1 cup whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
1 Tablespoon vanilla bean paste
1 Tablespoon vodka (optional, added at end for improved scooping texture)
1 cup crumbled peach scones (recipe linked in story), or substitute as noted below.
To mimic the texture and sweetness of cobbler batter, I baked a half batch of tender peach scones, found on King Arthur Baking website, and crumbled two of them to layer in this ice cream. Other great options would be buttery sweet drop biscuits, a yellow cupcake or even a few snickerdoodle cookies! If you want to skip the cobbler portion, the peach ice cream on its own will still be sweet and summery.
Directions
Peel two of the peaches and add to a blender or food processor bowl. Add one teaspoon of lemon juice. Puree for 20 seconds, keeping a few bits if you wish. Cook the puree and brown sugar over medium heat, stirring constantly, until reduced to about 1/2 cup volume (about 20 minutes). Cool to room temperature, then press a piece of plastic wrap directly onto puree. Refrigerate until thoroughly chilled. Peel and dice the third peach and toss bits with lemon juice to prevent browning. Cover with plastic wrap and keep chilled until ready to freeze.
In a large bowl or pitcher, combine condensed milk, milk and heavy cream until evenly blended. Stir in vanilla bean paste. Refrigerate at least 3 hours until thoroughly chilled.
Gently whisk cold peach puree into ice cream base. Freeze in ice cream machine according to manufacturer’s instructions. In the final two minutes of churning, spoon the reserved diced peaches into the machine and pour in vodka (if using). Churn until fully blended.
Transfer ice cream to an insulated freezer container, layered with scone crumbles. Cover and place container in freezer several hours or overnight for best texture.
When the 5 o’clock bell rang at the end of my fourth and final King Arthur Baking class— and I’m speaking figuratively, because there actually was no bell— I felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment at having baked the equivalent of 12 loaves of bread. “Equivalent,” because my classmates and I were taught shaping technique not only for loaves, but also for different kinds of rolls, and by the end of my deep-dive into the “principles and practice” of bread, my arms were filled with a brioche braid, a loaf of basic white, a whole wheat braid, a multi-grain boule, Nutella twist, cinnamon rolls, a whole wheat loaf with cinnamon-raisin swirl, two kinds of dinner rolls and three (count ’em, three) loaves of crusty French bread. Oh, and a ball of wet pizza dough in a plastic bag. Holy freakin’ moly.
I had produced enough baked goods to fill a Toyota Corolla, and I wasn’t sure what I’d do with all that bread.
Most of my classmates were headed home, so theirs was an easy decision. But I had packed up my rental car that morning for the third and final leg of my solo summer adventure, and that would lead me north, through the driving rain, farther from home rather than nearer. I would be a weekend visitor in the home of someone I’d never met in person before— what in the world was she going to think when I rolled up, looking like a drowned rat, in my rented Corolla with bread piled up to the windows?! Well, she wasn’t mad! 🙂
Meet Dorothy, from The New Vintage Kitchen! 🙂
Speaking from experience, if you ever need help breaking down too many loaves of bread, you want to be spending the weekend with Dorothy from The New Vintage Kitchen! Dorothy’s blog followers know that one of her mottos in the kitchen is “waste nothing,” and she showed me how she lives by it. That first evening, we enjoyed some steamer clams and a lovely nicoise salad with freshly grilled tuna. I suppose you can guess who brought the bread?
Our Friday was spent“foraging” for ingredients at some of Dorothy’s favorite farm stands, and the experience was all that I had imagined and more! We found terrific local produce, farm-fresh eggs, beautiful handcrafted items (like the wooden spoon that practically leapt into my hand) and adventure at every turn. And yes, we broke down that bread, one item at a time. Some of the loaves and rolls were stale before I even got to her house, and those ended up as bread crumbs, which are always in demand in a kitchen as busy as Dorothy’s.
The stale basic white bread was whizzed up into crumbs.You can tell Dorothy has done this before!Friday breakfast: a delectable savory French toast with leftover tuna and a duck egg on top!The crusty French bread was transformed into croutons.Yes, I wrote down the recipe!Who needs the salad?! I’m good.
She taught me her method of making anchovy croutons, using up the rest of the French bread loaves I brought. And of course, there was the title bread pudding, which was my own contribution to Friday night dinner, where I was pleased to meet Dorothy’s daughter, son-in-law and adorable granddaughter. They received the whole wheat raisin swirl loaf as a door prize. Thank goodness!
This bread pudding was exactly the right thing, because it brought me full circle from my grandmother’s kitchen, where nothing was wasted, including all the little this-and-thats of bread that she would have tucked into the freezer until she had enough to make a batch of her perfect bread pudding. As luck would have it, I had plenty of bread options and it was a very efficient (and delicious) way to finish up the braided brioche, some of the braided whole wheat and about four of the un-iced cinnamon rolls. It was roughly six cups of crumbs.
The base recipe was Gram’s, but there were a few fun twists— first of all, we used fresh, plump blueberries rather than the usual dried fruit. Real Vermont maple syrup supplemented the sugar for a warm touch of sweetness. The vanilla was homemade (of course, because this is Dorothy’s kitchen!) and we baked it up in her incredible, radiant-heat AGA range. My Gram would have loved everything about this, and she would have genuinely appreciated Dorothy’s no-nonsense, no-waste approach to cooking and entertaining. Truly, I could not have felt more welcome! Dorothy’s husband had something to do with that as well—he was always right there, topping off my French press coffee—and their two sweet dogs treated me like a member of the family, too! I got a little misty-eyed when it was time to leave, but I know I’ll be back!
After the click-to-print recipe, check out my whirlwind recap of the fun weekend we enjoyed, despite All. That. Rain!
When you're in Vermont, you have to sneak a little bit of maple into everything! This version of my Gram's bread pudding also uses fresh blueberries, and it worked beautifully!
Ingredients
About 6 cups dry, stale bread pieces
2 1/2 cups milk
3 beaten eggs
1/4 cup melted butter
1/2 cup sugar (reserve a tablespoon to sprinkle over top)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1 cup fresh blueberries
1/4 cup Vermont maple syrup
Whipped cream for serving
This recipe works best with bread that is stale but not bone dry. Tear up the pieces rather than cubing them, and allow them to dry out on the counter overnight (or all day, while you’re foraging for dinner’s ingredients). The bread pudding requires a water bath during baking, so put on a tea kettle to boil when you’re ready to move the pudding to the oven.
Directions
Preheat oven to 350 F, with oven rack in center position. Butter a 1 1/2 quart baking dish.
Add stale bread pieces to a mixing bowl that will be large enough to toss with liquid ingredients. Whisk together milk, eggs, sugar, melted butter, vanilla, cinnamon and cardamom. Pour milk mixture over bread and gently fold with a spatula or wooden spoon to evenly coat bread. The mixture will initially seem too wet, but the bread will continue to soak in the liquids. Allow the pudding to rest about 20 minutes to absorb the custardy liquid.
When most of the liquid has been absorbed, fold in fresh blueberries and maple syrup. Transfer mixture to buttered baking dish, and place the dish inside a larger dish with room for boiling water on all sides. Heat water to boiling in a tea kettle. Sprinkle reserved tablespoon of sugar all over the top of the pudding.
Carefully pour boiling water into larger dish, about halfway up the sides of the bread pudding dish. Bake approximately one hour, until pudding is set and top is golden browned and crispy.
Once upon a time— okay, it was the early 1980s—there were two best friends. It was me and Christine, a girl who befriended me when I was an incoming sophomore to a large high school in Colorado Springs, where I spent two years living with my mother. It was a far cry from rural upstate New York, where we only had two schools— K-6, and the other one that combined junior and senior high. This school had three or four large buildings for 10-12, and I was sure I’d get lost and would never learn the names of all my classmates. Christine was new at the school, too, given that she transferred from a Catholic school. At first glance, we could not have been more different. She was raised in a nuclear family with a healthy support system and I had, well, none of that. Still, we found enough in common that we became fast friends. I’m talking, the kind of friend who gets to sign an entire page of your yearbook!
Life took us in different directions after our two years of inseparableness. I returned to my dad’s in upstate New York for my senior year and then moved south in my 20s, where I pursued my dream of being on the radio. Christine was swept off her feet by the guy who is still her husband, and they welcomed three children, moving to Texas in the process. It was before the internet and even cell phones, and staying in touch proved challenging. We had fun catching up on the occasions that we reconnected, but with little in common, the occasions were fewer and farther between.
And then out of nowhere last December, I started getting emails from the Classmates site, claiming someone I went to school with “wanted an update on my life.” Truth is, I never followed up after my initial early signup to the site, and I don’t even know my password to log in; social media has never been my thing. Anyway, there was only one friend that I could imagine might want to be in touch with me from that school, and it got me curious. A few Google clicks later, I had Christine’s phone number (only, it turned out to be her daughter’s), and after a few text exchanges and FaceTime calls, she booked a flight to visit me in North Carolina! No, she had not been messaging me, and she also had been receiving random messages from Classmates, but at least the company’s dubious marketing effort catalyzed our finding each other again.
After 40 years, everything has changed and nothing has changed!
Christine and I had a grand time reminiscing through my old yearbooks and pondering whatever happened to this classmate and that teacher. We filled in the gaps of each others’ lives during the time gone by— her move to Texas and back, some scary health situations, my rebound to happiness after divorce— and we had one very poignant moment, during a video call with her parents, when I tearfully thanked them for the positive impact they had so long ago on a lonely teenage girl who desperately needed to see what family could look like. Yes, it was a special four and a half days, and we have vowed to not lose touch again.
Somewhere amid all of that catching up was a lot of really good food. We enjoyed a meal at one of my favorite local restaurants, Les fired up the smoker with a brisket and a whole side of salmon, and we checked out the Greek Festival for authentic gyros and honey-drenched loukoumades. I whipped up some key lime pie martinis and homemade pizzas, indulged her request for fresh seafood, and we visited a local winery. And Christine indulged me, too, by sharing her tips for making a delicious sweetheart of a pie—something I’m not very good at myself.
Nothing went to waste! She used the extra pie dough to decorate the edges. ❤
I’ve made no secret on Comfort du Jour of my lack of confidence in the pastry department. Yes, I can whip up a round-braided sourdough challah, no problem, but I’m still tiptoeing my way into making cakes, and the notion of mastering flaky pastry dough (or even biscuits, for that matter) has always felt just out of reach for me. Christine, on the other hand, had been texting me pictures of mouthwatering pies and pastries she makes on the regular, and well, I had plenty of questions.
YUM!
We could not make her favorite kind of pie— sour cherry is her blue ribbon best— because I don’t have a cherry tree in the backyard, as she does. But we found some shiny Granny Smith apples, and I thought it would be perfect for sharing as we head toward July 4th. We served up each mile high slice with a scoop of my reduced-guilt vanilla ice cream!
The crust is my favorite part of everything, so I really want to get good at this!
Christine did all the pie work here, and my job was to pay attention and take pictures. I took lots of mental notes as she worked on this masterpiece, but still forgot a few of the important details. Luckily, she was generous to share her exact crust recipe by text as I wrote this, and I’ve included it below in a printable format.
As for my lessons that day, I discovered three important takeaways for perfect pastry dough. First, I apparently need to start watching the Great British Baking Show, which is where Christine has honed her knowledge that led to her own baking skills. I’ve bookmarked it on Netflix for future binge watching. 🙂
Grating frozen butter is one of Christine’s tricks for creating a flaky crust, and she blends it into the flour mixture by hand. It may also help to have a cool rainbow watch.
Second, I need to follow a simple rule of thumb for tender, flaky pie crust, and that rule is “more fat, not more water.” For real, this is probably one of the ways I’ve gone astray, as I tend to just add more water when the dough doesn’t come together easily. Christine says a little extra butter (and frozen, at that) worked into the flour is what produces the flaky, delicate layers I long to achieve. Finally, I need to not be afraid to practice, because it’s the only way I will gain confidence to make a good pie. I know she’s right, of course.
She got the filling ready first, so the rolled-out dough would not sit too long. We figured the cold quartz counter would help, too.
That brings me to my final lesson in successful pie making, which is don’t skimp on the filling— another mistake I now know I have made. Christine used six ginormous apples in this pie, and it wasn’t even deep dish! With so much filling, and given where our friendship began, I named it Mile High Apple Pie. Enjoy!
She brushed the top crust with milk and sprinkled on turbinado sugar before it went to the oven. Pie crust protectors kept the delicate edges from burning.
My bestie from high school walked me through how to make a good, flaky pie crust! Three most important lessons; use frozen butter, chill the dough and practice, practice, practice!
Ingredients
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tablespoon sugar
3/4 tsp. salt
2 1/2 sticks frozen, unsalted butter
5 Tablespoons ice water
Planning ahead is important for successful pastry dough. It should be chilled at least 30 minutes, but preferably longer, before filling and baking.
Directions
Whisk the flour, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Grate butter over flour through the large holes on a box grater. Rub in with fingertips until small pea-size clumps form. Add 5 tablespoons of water and mix lightly with fork until dough holds together when small pieces are pressed between fingertips, adding more water by teaspoonful if dough is dry.
Gather dough together; divide into 2 pieces. Form each piece into ball, then flatten into disks and wrap in plastic. Refrigerate at least 30 minutes, but you can do this up to 2 days in advance.
Remove chilled dough from fridge a few minutes before rolling out. Get the filling mixed up first, then roll the dough.
Ingredients
6 large, Granny Smith apples, peeled and sliced thin
Juice of 1/2 fresh lemon
About 2/3 cup sugar (more if you like it sweet, I suppose)
2 tablespoons flour, to toss and coat the apple slices
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom (she added this at my request, because I love it with apples)
4 Tablespoons cold, unsalted butter
Directions
Preheat oven to 375 F, with rack slightly lower than center position.
Toss apple slices with lemon juice to prevent browning. Add sugar, flour, cinnamon and cardamom to the apples and fold to coat until no visible flour remains.
Roll out the first disk of pie dough into a large circle and place it in a 9-inch pie plate. Transfer the apple filling to the pie plate. Cut butter into cubes and arrange the cubes all over the apple filling. Roll out the second dough disk, cutting a shape in the center as a steam vent (if you happen to have a tiny heart-shaped cookie cutter, use that). Roll the top dough around the rolling pin for easy roll-on transfer to the top of the pie. Trim and crimp the top and bottom edges to seal together. If you have extra dough, cut more heart shapes and place them around the edges of the pie.
Brush the whole pie crust with milk and sprinkle with coarse sugar. Bake for about one hour, until pastry is golden brown all over and filling is visibly bubbly through the steam vent.
Here I go, answering my own question of “what other cocktails could be turned into a cake?” I asked this just a few weeks ago, when I presented the tiki cocktail skillet cake that put a fun, boozy spin on a pineapple upside-down cake. I started making a list of other drinks that could work, including some suggested by followers in the comments section.
Somehow, this one was not on the tip of my tongue when I first asked the question. It came about when I found beautifully ripe, organic strawberries on a recent shopping visit. I told Les I would make strawberry shortcake for Father’s Day, but he challenged me to come up with something more imaginative that didn’t involve sponge cake or biscuits (neither are his favorites). What about a strawberry cake, I asked? And he said, “that would be better, and do you think you could make it a little boozy?”
C’mon, could I make it a little boozy?! I mean, does he even know me?
My first step was to find a recipe that would accommodate a ton of fresh strawberries, plus booze. Even a novice baker like me knows that too much liquid will wreck a cake, so that was a major hurdle. The internet is full of strawberry cake recipes, and most of them are dressed-up versions of a boxed cake mix, which didn’t fit my goal. I don’t mean to be snobbish, and if you’re cool with a box mix, I’m not judging. But I’m super sensitive to artificial flavorings, colors, thickeners and sweeteners, so desserts tend to be a little more complicated for me.
Hello, Gorgeous!
Besides, my goal was to take advantage of these beautiful fresh berries that are at their peak, so I searched until I found a scratch recipe that satisfied both my palate and my baking comfort level. Several recipes in my search results leveraged a technique called “reverse creaming,” which I’ve never heard of, let alone tried. Too much experimentation at once gets me into trouble, so I passed on those. Finally, I found this scratch strawberry cake recipe on Sally’s Baking Addiction blog that would be a good starting point, and I made only a few adjustments to booze up the ingredients, and one to make the process more familiar to me.
Get ready for oodles of photos on this one; there were a lot of steps for this cake, and I wanted to be detailed, for my future self as much as any other reason. If it’s all too much for you, skip ahead to the end, where I’ve included a click-to-print recipe card. You know, in the event you find gorgeous strawberries at your market, too. 🙂
I got a little excited about the berries, and muscle memory took over when I sliced them up. Without thinking, I dumped in a bunch of sugar to macerate them before I even found the recipe I wanted to use. That turned out to be a problem because Sally’s recipe specifically said “don’t” add sugar to the berries before reducing. Oops. There was obviously no undo button for that, and I had to do some fancy math to make up for the sugar I had already used. This also meant that I had to watch the sweetened puree carefully to keep it from burning as I reduced it. If this all sounds complicated, well, what can I say? Nobody has ever accused me of doing things the easy way! It worked out just fine; next time I would just puree the strawberries naked and follow the recipe for the full amount of sugar. Don’t worry, that’s how I wrote the recipe.
This is how you turn a pound of berries into a half cup of flavor.
The puree needed time to cool, so I used that down time to get my other ingredients lined up and organized. This really helped me when I made my tiki skillet cake, so I’m trying to make it a habit. It still felt like too many components, so I combined a few things that made sense to me. That puree was thick as tomato paste, so I mixed the milk into it to make it pourable. I didn’t want to forget to add a few drops of natural red food coloring, so I added that to the extracts. Finally, I prepped my 9-inch cake pans and preheated the oven to 350 F.
When the butter was softened enough to blend, I started by creaming it with sugar, then whipped in the egg whites, sour cream and extracts. So far, so good!
My next adjustment was in technique. The inspiration recipe suggested adding whole amounts of some ingredients all at once, rather than alternating dry and wet additions to the batter. Perhaps this works well for a more skilled sweets baker, but I didn’t want to take any chances with unincorporated ingredients, especially when I was aiming to please my husband on Father’s Day. I did this the way my grandma would have suggested, and poured the batter into my prepped pans, one of which was fitted with a cake strip. These things are soaked in water then wrapped around the cake pan, and the intent is to help the cake bake evenly without too much “dome.” I only used it on one layer, as I didn’t mind the top layer being rounded a bit. As it turned out, neither layer had a dome.
To achieve the “daiquiri” effect, I had swapped out some of the vanilla in favor of rum extract, and I cooked up a boozy strawberry daiquiri syrup for soaking the baked cake layers before icing. That alone was so good, I’ll have to think up another reason to make it again— and soon! The syrup was flavored with Bacardi white rum, fresh lime zest, and bits of freeze-dried strawberries, which I had processed into powder in the food processor. I’m pretty sure I’ll still be finding strawberry powder in random parts of the kitchen this time next strawberry season. Who has a better suggestion for turning that stuff into powder?
Almost finished! The cream cheese frosting got its pretty pink color from the freeze-dried strawberry powder, which put a ton of fresh berry flavor into play, without messing up the texture with too much moisture. I used an extra cup of powdered sugar from Sally’s recipe, because I wanted it to be sturdier. More lime zest and another splash of rum, and this frosting was good to go. And when I say, “good,” I mean really gooood!
Putting the cake together was the easy part! I spooned most of that boozy daiquiri syrup over the first layer, which I poked all over with a toothpick first. A little edge of frosting kept it from soaking down the sides, and then I topped it with the second layer and frosted it up all over.
The resulting cake was beautiful and very tasty. Would I change anything next time? Not really, except for skipping the macerating of berries, which I wasn’t supposed to do in the first place. It wouldn’t be terrible to double the daiquiri syrup, and maybe it would soak in deeper if I applied it when the cake layers were still warm. I might put a little extra gel coloring into the batter to achieve more of a pink look. And I’d probably save a few of the prettiest fresh berries to garnish the cake at serving time.
But even without all of that, this was a big time winner. Les loved his Father’s Day cake, and I’m conquering my fear of baking, one recipe at a time. 🍓😉
This pretty cake is packed with fresh strawberry flavor, and I found a way to put a fun cocktail spin on it, too!
For the cake batter, plan ahead for the time needed to puree and cook the strawberries, as the reduction needs to be cooled to room temperature, along with the butter, egg whites and sour cream. For best results, measure out and line up all your ingredients before beginning this recipe. The ingredients and directions are split up into three components: the batter, the daiquiri syrup and the frosting.
Ingredients
1 pound fresh ripe strawberries, rinsed and hulled (these will be pureed and cooked)
2 1/2 cups cake flour (see notes)
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. fine salt
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 3/4 cups cane sugar
5 large egg whites, room temperature
1/3 cup sour cream, room temperature (full fat for best results)
1 tsp. real vanilla extract
1 tsp. rum extract
4 drops red food color (optional, for extra pink color)
1/2 whole milk, room temperature
Directions
Puree the strawberries in a blender or food processor until smooth. Cook the resulting puree over medium low heat for about half an hour, until the berries have reduced down to about 1/2 cup volume. The mixture should be almost as thick and sticky as tomato paste. Set this aside to cool.
Preheat oven to 350 F, with oven rack in center position. Prepare two 9-inch cake pans by buttering the sides and bottom. Lay parchment rounds over the bottom and butter that as well for easy removal of the cake layers.
Combine flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a medium bowl.
Beat butter in stand mixer with paddle blade. Add sugar gradually, beating until light and fluffy. Whisk egg whites until frothy; pour into mixer bowl and beat with paddle until evenly combined, about two minutes. Add sour cream, vanilla and rum extracts and food color (if using); beat until smooth.
Whisk the cooled strawberry puree into the milk to create a thick liquid. Add dry and wet ingredients to the batter, alternating so that you begin with flour, then strawberry-milk, flour, milk, flour. After each addition, beat on low speed only until addition is incorporated. Scrape down the sides of the bowl a couple of times during these additions.
Divide batter between prepared cake pans. Bake 25 minutes, using the toothpick test to check for doneness. Allow cake layers to cool in the pans, set on a cooling rack for even air flow underneath. When cakes are cooled, invert onto cooling racks.
The daiquiri syrup is next, and this can be made ahead and brought to room temperature before soaking baked cake layers. The syrup uses some of the freeze-dried strawberries that are also used in the frosting. Process those into a powder during this stage, and reserve most of the powder for the frosting.
Ingredients
1/4 cup cane sugar
2 Tbsp. water
1/4 cup white rum (I used Bacardi brand)
zest of one organic lime
1 Tbsp. powdered, freeze-dried strawberries plus small bits (see frosting ingredients below)
Directions
Add the freeze-dried strawberries to a blender or the small bowl of a food processor. Pulse about 20 times to transform the berries into a powder. Sift the berry powder through a wire strainer, and measure out a tablespoon or so to be used in the simple syrup, along with some of the larger bits caught in the mesh strainer.
Make the daiquiri syrup by heating sugar, water and rum over medium heat until slightly bubbly. Add about a tablespoon of the strawberry powder, and a spoonful of the small bits, which will rehydrate in syrup. Stir in lime zest and set aside to cool. If you’d like, you can make this ahead and keep it in the fridge, but bring it to room temp when you’re ready to assemble the cake.
For the frosting, I like salted butter because it emphasizes the bright flavors of strawberry, rum and lime. If you prefer unsalted butter, it’s an even swap.
Ingredients
1 heaping cup freeze-dried strawberries (look for them at Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods or online)
8 ounces full-fat cream cheese, room temperature
1 stick salted butter, room temperature
4 cups confectioner’s sugar
1 Tbsp. white rum
zest of one organic lime
Directions
Make the frosting; cream together the cream cheese and butter on high speed, using the stand mixer with whisk attachment. Stop mixer and add confectioner’s sugar, one cup at a time. Whisk until smooth and scrape down sides as needed. Beat in rum, then add powdered strawberry dust and lime zest. Beat until fluffy. If the frosting seems a little soft, cover the bowl and refrigerate a half hour or so, then whip at high speed for a fluffy texture.
Smear a little bit of frosting onto serving platter, then position first cake layer upside-down on the dab of frosting to prevent it sliding around on the platter. Use a toothpick to poke small holes all over the first cake layer. This will help the daiquiri syrup soak into the bottom layer of the cake.
Fill a piping bag with frosting, and lay a thick line around the outer edge of the first layer. Spoon most of the daiquiri syrup evenly over the cake layer, spreading it up to the edge of the frosting line to encourage it into the toothpick holes. When the syrup appears mostly soaked into the cake, pipe frosting all over the top and use an offset spatula to gently smooth it over the syrup. It doesn’t have to be perfect.
Position the second layer of cake over the first. Use the toothpick to poke holes over this layer and gently brush the remaining daiquiri syrup over the top, stopping about one inch from the edges. This layer should have only a slight coating of the syrup; otherwise, the frosting might not stay put. Pipe a line of frosting around the edge of the top layer, then frost the sides and top of the cake.
Cover and refrigerate the cake a couple of hours before serving for best results.
On a recent grocery run, I was stopped in my tracks in the produce section by a stunning display of fresh pineapple. Their luscious fragrance caught me first, and those golden beauties were staring me in the face, just begging to go home with me. All the way home, I imagined whipping up some fun tiki drinks, one of my hubby’s favorites. I also considered making a classic pineapple upside-down cake, though I don’t have a great track record with dessert baking. It isn’t for lack of trying; rather, it’s a matter of getting into my own head in a way that messes me up. Still, I’d try it. And then, as I was putting away groceries, a crazy thought hit me.
Could it be a terrible idea to combine the two? Throw a little Comfort du Jour curveball on a pineapple upside-down cake by applying all the tropical flavors of a tiki drink? The magical combination of rum, pineapple, coconut and lime is the flavor equivalent to summer sunshine, and once the idea hit me to include them in a cake— with my good cocktail cherries, of course— well, there was no turning back!
It was every bit as delicious as it looked!
As I gathered up my ingredients to get started, I realized all at once the source of my frustrations with baking sweet treats. It’s me. Yep, it’s my own fault I’m a lousy sweets baker.
But this recipe proved I can break free of that negative self-talk. I just needed to be diligent.
My muse is frequently five or more steps ahead of my mind and my hands, and the exuberance that kicks in when I start making on-the-fly adjustments to a perfectly good recipe is exactly what gets me into trouble. I confuse myself with too many ideas for substitutions, throwing off the ratios that are so necessary for good baking results. It makes me crazy after hours spent in the kitchen on a recipe that seemed so promising at the start.
When I have a crappy result, I inevitably swear off baking— and I am using the word swear quite intentionally. Then, when my persistent muse comes around again, I repeat the whole scenario, sometimes verbatim. But for this cake, I pledged to slow down, chart my substitution ideas more thoughtfully, read the recipe (twice), and truly organize my ingredients into pre-measured amounts (not just put their pantry containers on the counter) to reduce the chances of disaster. And what do you know?— it worked!
I could not have been more organized for this project, right down to pre-arranging the pineapple!
My baseline recipe was a skillet version of pineapple upside-down cake that I found on the King Arthur Baking website, my go-to for all things baking. I imagined the wonderful flavors of a tiki cocktail and started rounding up my substitutions.
I wanted rum in the brown sugar topping, and in the cake batter itself. Sweetened flaked coconut would be great in the batter, but that wouldn’t be enough flavor so I’d swap out some of the sugar in favor of this sweet cream of coconut— the same stuff I use in a real tiki cocktail. Key lime juice would spike it with a touch of citrus, but just a touch. Almond extract would play the role of orgeat, the nutty-sweet syrup ingredient that is so distinctively tiki-ish. Our bourbon-drenched cocktail cherries felt more appropriate than the artificially colored bright red maraschinos, and it would be another touch of boozy, grownup candy goodness. And then, of course, my lovely fresh pineapple would be the centerpiece.
The cream of coconut made a big flavor difference, and I put lime juice in the rum and almond extract into the vanilla.
With my ingredients measured and in order, following the recipe roadmap was a cinch. The topping was easy, just melting together brown sugar and butter, and then boosting it with a shot of Jamaican rum. I let it get nice and bubbly, then turned off the heat and arranged the pineapple slices. The cherry halves would come later.
I creamed together the butter and cream of coconut, then gradually beat in the sugar. Next came the egg yolks, the flavorings and the flour-milk-flour-milk-flour additions. Alternating those ensures more even blending without overmixing. The egg whites, which were whipped separately, were folded in at the end and I spooned the batter over the brown sugar butter mixture that held the pineapple slices in the skillet.
What a world of difference it made to have my ingredients measured and ready!
The baking time was true to the recipe (my toothpick said so), and I inverted the cake onto a serving platter to cool. There’s a sweet spot in timing the inversion from a hot skillet; too soon and the cake may fall apart, too long and the toppings will stick and you’ll be patching them into place. Aim for 15 to 20 minutes for best results, then immediately press the cocktail cherry halves into place while the topping is still warm and gooey. Cool it completely before serving. Waiting to enjoy it was the hard part!
Dont’ rush this step, or the cake may fall apart.
I served my tiki cocktail cake with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream, spiked with more booze of course, as well as a lime twist and a sprinkling of toasted coconut.
Having my cake and drinking it, too!
So was it worth the trouble? Mostly, yes. The cake was really delicious— definitely boozy, as intended— and the coconut and pineapple were solid co-stars. It had the perfect hint of almond, but the key lime was barely detectable, and next time I would probably just grate a little lime zest over the cake at serving time. The boozy cherries, as much as I love them, got lost a little bit with all the tropical flavors swirling around them, but they were still a nice little nod to a traditional upside-down cake.
The biggest victory for me was seeing the success that resulted from my planning and, for once, I didn’t swear off baking when this was finished. To the contrary, I’m already imagining my next cocktail-to-cake creation. Any suggestions? 😄
A few thoughtful ingredient swaps turned a classic cake into tropical tiki territory. You might say that I'm having my cake and drinking it, too!
Ingredients
1/2 stick (4 Tbsp.) salted butter, softened
3/4 cup light brown sugar
2 Tbsp. rum (I used Jamaican dark rum)
Fresh or canned pineapple rings, drained
1 cup all-purpose flour
2/3 cup whole wheat pastry flour (or additional all-purpose)
1/4 cup sweetened flaked coconut
2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. fine salt
1 stick (8 Tbsp.) unsalted butter, room temp
1/4 cup cream of coconut
3/4 cup cane sugar
2 large eggs, separated
1/2 cup, minus 2 Tbsp. milk (see recipe notes)
2 Tbsp. rum (Jamaican again)
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
3/4 tsp. almond extract
1 tsp. key lime juice
Cocktail cherries, halved (use as many as you have pineapple rings)
Having all my ingredients measured and lined up before beginning made all the difference in the world for my successful outcome. Separate the eggs while they are cold, but let them come to room temperature before you start the recipe.
Directions
Preheat oven to 350 F, with rack in center position.
In a medium bowl, whisk together flours, coconut, baking powder and salt. Set bowl aside.
Cut unsalted butter into chunks to quicken softening. Separate the eggs, keeping the whites in a large bowl to be whipped. This will be added to the batter just before baking. Combine milk and 2 Tbsp rum in a measuring glass and set aside.
While all the ingredients are coming to room temperature, prepare the pineapple topping. Melt salted butter in a cast-iron skillet over medium heat. Add brown sugar and whisk until combined and just beginning to bubble. Turn off heat and stir in 2 Tbsp of the rum. Give the skillet a few gentle shakes to settle the mixture evenly in the skillet. Arrange the pineapple slices as desired.
Cream butter and cream of coconut together in the bowl of a stand mixer, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides. When mixture is lighter and somewhat fluffy, gradually add sugar, beating and scraping down sides as needed.
Use an electric hand mixer to whip the egg whites until light and airy but not broken. Set aside.
Add one egg at a time to the batter, beating until well combined after each. Beat in vanilla, almond and lime juice.
Alternate addition of the flour mixture and milk as follows: 1/3 flour mixture stirred in until smooth. Next, 1/2 milk mixture. Then 1/3 flour mixture, remaining milk, remaining flour mixture. Scrape down sides and blend as evenly as possible without overworking the batter.
Give the egg whites a quick whisk again, then gently fold them into the batter, taking care to mix only until the whites are not distinguishable in the batter. Gently spoon the batter over top of the pineapple topping. Use a spatula to smooth out the top.
Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool for about 15 minutes.
Run a knife or offset spatula around edges of the skillet to loosen the outer edge of the cake. Invert onto a plate or serving platter. Immediately place the cocktail cherries into the topping, pressing gently to set them into caramelized sugar.
Cool cake completely. Cut into wedges and serve with a dollop of whipped cream, spiked with cointreau or coconut rum. Sprinkled with toasted coconut.
Comfort du Jour 