Mini snack cakes – and an extra note

First things first, as I write this, I’m eating my orc stew, from the previous Hobbit post.  It’s decent, but I still have some ways to go with the seasoning.  It’s got a nice zing to it thanks to some habanero and sriracha, but it needs a bit more body to it.  I wanted to try leaving out bay leaf, thyme, and sage, but they’re in damn near everything for a reason – the earthy flavors of the soup are quite strong on their own, and they need a good compliment.  On the other hand, using celery root instead of celery was an excellent move, particularly as the celery root itself also is texturally much like potato pieces.  Overall, it’s a decent soup that only needs a few more tweaks to be amazing.

Now, for the coming new year, I found that a local sci-fi bookstore is doing an all-night gaming event.  Can’t say no to that, right?  So I’ve been going over in my head as to what to make for that.

In terms of bold and creative, I think I’ll actually make snack cakes – just pour some cake batter onto a lined pan, and then fill them with some frosting.  It’ll be like whoopie pies… except, of course, that I’m going to try to take these to a new level.

For the cake itself, I’m thinking of a luxurious Amaretto cake.  I’m hoping it’ll be a modern spin on pandoro (that Italian cake that I see so often around this time of year), with a moistness that calls to mind good times by the fire – be it the fireplace of grandmom’s house or the hearth that you imagine your characters meet in front of in a Dungeons & Dragons game.  The goal is to be satisfying and blend many things at once – even the line between yourself and fantasy.

Along those lines, the filling is quite important.  The cheap answer would be chocolate; after all, everything’s better with chocolate.  But being experimental means going off the beaten path, so I think my filling will actually be a combination of maple syrup and fresh vanilla – powerful and bold, yet using flavors familiar and warm for everyone.  I want it to be inviting and new without alienating folks who like something traditional.

Regardless, this should be a fun way to celebrate the new year.

And finally, for those who realize who I am now – go back over everything I said.  And more importantly, what I didn’t say.  For all that you realize how I may have misled you, I never once lied.  So I hope everyone had fun, continues to follow what I have to say, and enjoy a slice of bacon cake.  You’ll see me in a better forum for non-food questions soon enough.

Theme meal thwarted – The Hobbit

Sorry for the silence of late.  I was being a bit superstitious… and it turned out to not matter anyway.

There was a local store that had this great idea – it’d do a contest for dishes inspired by Middle Earth, in conjunction with the upcoming film of The Hobbit.  Perfect for me – I love Tolkien’s work, and I love to cook.  So I signed up to actually make dishes inspired by hobbits, dwarves, and orcs.

And then the contest got canceled because only one other person signed up.  Sigh.

I hadn’t talked about it until now because I thought that I’d either jinx it by discussing it online or possibly give someone ideas to compete against me.  Well, little fear of that now.  So, here were my thoughts.

Orcs – Black heart stew

Truth be told, there’s not a very wide discussion of orcish dietary habits in any of the books.  The closest I have to any of that would be the fiery drink that they used on Pippin and Merry to get them up and marching in The Two Towers.

Enough for me to work with.

I was going to make a spicy soup – allow spicy peppers to steep in beef stock for 24 hours.  I was probably going to use dried ancho chilies, because I don’t think too many folks besides myself are going to give the ghost pepper a chance (oh, the stories I have).  To go with that, I was going to add cumin, bay leaf, and sage to the seasoning mix to give a rich and powerful kick to it.

With this broth, my hope was to combine it with black lentils and black mushrooms.  These would serve to both give further body to the soup as well as serve as a nice thematic component.

Dwarves – mountain potatoes

Thinking about it, the dietary habits of a species of sentient creatures that live primarily in mountain caves are more than a bit limited.  While there certainly is a biome that can support life, much of what a dwarf would have access to is pretty limited without trade.  And I was thinking that the most famous story about dwarves by Tolkien involved dwarves who were refugees and thus probably stuck eating what was native.

To be honest, I think mushrooms are a bit too cliche, plus I honestly don’t know just how well mushrooms grow in high mountains and mines – since they typically need moisture to grow, it seemed like a more sea-level food.  However, various types of edible taproots and culinary herbs do grow in mountainous terrain.

With that said, I imagine a good side dish for dwarves that would be extremely native would involve potatoes, sage, rosemary, thyme, and lavendar – all very tasty in combination as well as capable of growing heartily in mountainous regions.  They’d have to be tossed in some kind of fat – I bet the traditional dwarven method would be rendered goat or sheep fat. That said, olive oil would be tastier, vegetarian, and olives can grow in pretty hearty areas as well.

Hobbits – Cherry mead cake

I do make tons of different foods, but I will always admit to having a weakness for experimenting with different kinds of cake.  Also, given their dietary habits, if anyone could appreciate a soft and rich cake in Middle Earth, it would be those irrepressible hobbits.

In this case, I would start with a spice cake base.  Hobbits strike me as the sort that would just swoon at the scent of freshly ground cloves, grated nutmeg, powdered allspice, and any other spice that would make a spice cake stand out.

 

Also, I think that the spice mix goes quite well with mead.  Of course, I had to make this a booze cake, and while plenty of drinking of all sorts happens in the story, a strong yet sweet honey mead is the one that I always come back to when I imagine hobbits.  I think the combination of the two would be fabulous.

Also, I would include cherries in two steps.  One, I would take dried cherries and mix them into the cake batter.  I don’t have a good story reason as to why (a classic carrot cake really does seem like something hobbits would make and eat), but I thought it’d be a bit more playful and unexpected, which is always what Tolkien showed with them.

Also, I would add a bit of cherry juice to the frosting.  Making a basic cherry simple syrup, I’d add just a touch to a good cream cheese frosting, in order to give it a light but unmistakable complimentary cherry flavor.  A good finish to a hearty meal.

I will eventually make this, but probably not for at least a week.  While I didn’t do any experiments over Thanksgiving, I did make a ton of classics.  I have a lot of leftovers to clear.

Crazy dreams inspire crazy cakes

So last night, I had a really odd dream.  It was mostly in a white void, except there was one guy there.  Everything was monochrome black-and-white, which was strange because I usually dream in color.  Anyhow, this guy was in a suit, and probably around 8 feet tall.  At least, I think he was – I do know that I couldn’t clearly see anything about him from around the nose up.  I don’t remember what he said, but he was yelling in this weird, distorted tone.  Really strange was the one splash of color in the dream – he held his hand up like he was gripping something, and some odd blue energy looked like it was forming there.

I woke up around that time, and I thought about the dream… for some reason, I can’t help but imagine a cake when I go over everything.  Probably a clue that I spend too much time baking, right?  Well, to get it out of my head, I came up with the following recipe:

Custard for cake – Make 30 minutes in advance

⅓ cup sugar
3 egg yolks
1 cup cream
2 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon butter

Mix together the sugar and the flour in a small saucepan.  Stir in milk.  Bring just to a boil on medium heat.  Reduce heat to low, stir for about a minute, until it starts to thicken.

In a small bowl, beat together the three egg yolks.  Pour in a small amount of the milk mixture into the bowl, mix well to temper the eggs.  Pour egg mixture into the saucepan, mix well.  Stir in butter.  When the butter has blended with all of the mixture, remove from heat and set aside.

Cake

Custard mixture, as above
2 ¼ cups flour (all-purpose or cake)
1 ⅓ cups sugar
3 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
½ cup (one stick) butter, room temperature
½ cup milk
1 cup Blue Curacao liqueur
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
6 ounces miniature chocolate chips (optional)
20 drops blue food coloring (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  Coat round cake pans with butter and lightly dust with flour, set aside.

Combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.  Mix until they’re roughly blended.  Add butter, custard, milk, liqueur, and vanilla (and food coloring, if used).  Mix for about two minutes with a stand mixer or hand blender; 4 or 5 if mixing by hand.  Scrape the bowl, add the eggs.  Mix for about another minute.  Scrape the bowl again, and mix for about another minute.  Blend in the chocolate chips by hand if using them.

Pour the mixture into the cake pans.  Bake for about 30-35 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Allow to cool on a wire rack; wait until room temperature before frosting.

Chocolate frosting

½ cup (one stick) butter, softened
½ cup shortening
4 cups powdered sugar
4 ounces chocolate, melted (the higher the cocoa percentage, the better)
2 tablespoons espresso powder (optional)

Put butter and shortening in mixing bowl.  Blend together for about two minutes, until creamy.  Scrape the bowl.  Gradually add in powdered sugar, until blended.  Add in the espresso powder and the melted chocolate.  Mix for about two minutes.  Scrape the bowl, mix for about one minute.  Use on a cooled cake.

I think this would result in a pretty exciting cake – the blue curacao would go great with the chocolate, and the flavors would be pretty rich.  I’ll be giving it a run this weekend.

So… about that bacon cake…

Yeah, it turns out I did let things slack off here.  My mistake.

I really ran into an issue of frustration, because I ended up not getting the help I needed for being able to do the competition, so I ended up not doing it.  Alas.

That said, for those curious as to how I made it work, I basically took a standard yellow cake recipe, and modified it as follows:

For the sugar, I replaced 50% of the white sugar usually used in such a recipe with brown sugar, and 50% with blackstrap molasses.  Then, where the recipe usually calls for butter, I completely replaced it with the same amount, by weight, of lard.

This results in a cake with the right texture that tastes a bit, but not completely, like barbecue sauce.  From there, it’s pretty simple to top with bacon and the frosting of your choice.

I will take ice cream making next – some exciting developments on that front.

Bacon and cake, together at last

So, as promised, bacon cake.

I should start off by discussing the origins.  A couple years ago, while at Otakon with some friends, I made a Kahlua cake for my friends.  They all enjoyed it, and we discussed just what kind of outrageous cakes I could make.  It was universally agreed that the most ludicrous thing I could make was bacon cake – how could I possibly make that taste good?

The thing is, when I was on my way home, I answered that question in my head.  Thereafter, it became a bit of a joke amongst my friends – oh, yeah, bacon cake, when would I ever be crazy enough to make that?  Even if the theories I had were sound, who would even eat it?

Fast forward to earlier in 2012, and the a brewery announced that they’d be doing a series of cooking competitions.  I had heard about their 2011 competition, but my local date was right around when I was moving to a new house, so I was too busy to compete.  When they announced that they were coming around again, I prepared to come up with a really great pie recipe (the focus of the last local challenge), when it was announced that they’d be doing cake this year instead.

Me?  In a cake competition?  Oh, yes.

Anyhow, I teamed with a friend who did the pie competition last year, and we started tossing forth ideas.  There was one tragically funny incident with mint cake (I’ll go into that another time), but for the most part, we felt like we were hitting against walls.  Then my friend said something that changed everything.

“It’s a shame we can’t do a meat cake of some sort.  Last year, the meat-based pies were the ones that did the best in the competition, and we’d have even less competition in that regard this year.”

I just kind of sat there, slack-jawed.  I remembered the bacon cake.  I told him about the bacon cake.  And yes, the lack of sanity of such a thing was noted.  But we also sat and noted… it could work.  It’d be the least healthy cake in existence, which is saying a whole lot.  But the culinary theories behind it made sense.

So, I put together the first draft of this bacon cake.  I kept it simple; none of the bells and whistles that would be involved in a competition cake.  Besides not wanting to put that much effort in at once, I had to know if the theory was sound.

And somehow, it was.  It has the texture of a slightly dense but very soft cake, sweet yet blended with the unmistakable flavor of bacon.  Both sweet and savory come out in this cake without clashing or becoming muddled.

Since this is for a competition, I’m holding off on giving out the recipe until after it’s done.  But still, for good or ill, bacon cake exists.  Heaven help us all.

Booze cake and I – best friends forever

Truth be told, I don’t drink alcohol at all.  It’s a personal thing; I don’t begrudge anyone else their drinks.  I just don’t partake myself.

To others who cook a lot, I often get an initial reaction of bewilderment.  It’s said that there are two types of chefs – those who are alcoholics and those who are in AA.  And it is true that there are some liquors out there that give amazing flavors to what they’re paired with.

So, I just bake with them.  Between the serving sizes cutting the volume and how much gets baked off, I never have to worry about dealing with alcohol’s physiological effects. I learned this from my mom, who taught me many years ago how to make her holiday rum cake, which was perennially a holiday favorite.

That said, I asked my mom ages ago why she only made it around Christmas, and why only rum.  She admitted that she just never thought about doing it any other way.  So I decided to experiment a bit on my own.

The process itself is fairly easy, though you do need to tweak your recipes.  The problem with alcohol is that it will evaporate faster than water.  If there’s nothing to keep the moisture in the cake at all, it’ll dry out.  The secret is actually use some variety of custard or pudding in the cake mix (proportioned for the amount of milk used in the recipe).  That will trap the water in the milk better, so as to allow the cake to stay moist.

To be fair, there is a downside to this method – cakes will come out denser.  That said, when dealing with an alcohol cake, portion smaller, because it will fill you up fast.

Of course, the fun part, once you get the basics down, is that it really works well for multiple types of alcohol… and can be paired with multiple types of pudding.  I find that the alcohols like bourbon or rum, where it’s fermented primarily without fruit flavors, work excellent with chocolate or butterscotch.  I’m particularly proud of my chocolate butterscotch bourbon cake – I think it’s one of the best I make.

The flip side is that fruity alcohols go great with either caramel, vanilla, or fruity pudding.  Perhaps the strangest cake, prior to tonight’s experiments, was a banana cream Midori cake.  For all the strange combinations going on in that cake, it came out like a tropical fruit punch in a cake, and it went over quite well.

As for tonight’s experiment?  To give you a teaser for next time – bacon cake.  Oh yes.