California Winter Cake—White Chocolate + Grapefruit

California was a treat, my dudes. Comprised of the usual spate of woodworking, welding, and face-stuffing with tacos, it was a completely undeserved and welcome respite from Baltimore’s too-long winter. Obviously there were gobs of citrus too, and after a long while spent pining for the lemon cream that Yossy loves, I went grapefruit on it and figured it was cake-worthy. The results totally ruled, and little needs to be said about this excellent thing, except perhaps that it was born of a winter vacation to a summery place—and it shows. A standard white cake recipe from the best baking dudes, sandwiched with a perfectly bitter, citrusy cream, dressed in a white chocolate ermine frosting that might supersede all previous frosting allegiances, and topped with my favorite roasted white chocolate garnish. Make it if you’re seeking celebration or a big fat slice of end-of-winter Hell-Yes. 

For cake layers

Cake and frosting adapted from Baked: New Frontiers in Baking

Yield: Three 7- or 8-inch cake layers

2 1/2 cups of cake flour

3/4 cup all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened

1/2 cup vegetable shortening

1 3/4 cups sugar

1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract

1 large egg

1 1/2 cups ice cold water

3 large egg whites, at room temperature

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

1.  Preheat the over the 325 degrees F. Butter and flour three 7- or 8-inch round cake pans with removable bottoms. Sift the flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together in a large bowl. Set aside.

2.  In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter and shortening on medium speed until creamy, three to four minutes. Add the sugar, and beat on medium speed until fluffy, about three minutes. Scrape down the bowl, add the vanilla and whole egg, and beat until just combined. Turn the mixer to low. Add the flour mixture, alternating with the ice water, in three separate additions, beginning and ending with the flour mixture. Scrape down the bowl, then mix on low speed for a few more seconds.

3.  In a medium bowl, whisk the egg whites and cream of tartar until soft peaks form. Do not overbeat. Gently fold the egg whites into the batter. Divide the batter among the prepared pans and smooth the tops. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through, until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. Transfer the cakes to a wire rack and let cool for ten minutes, then carefully remove cakes from pans and let cool completely. Remove the parchment.

4.  A tip for assembly: Have frosting and filling prepared when ready to assemble cake. The most important part of the whole she-bang? Pipe a generous, tall border of frosting around the edges of each layer, and fill the well with about a half-cup of grapefruit cream. The border will keep the cream from sandwiching out between the layers.

For white chocolate ermine frosting

6 ounces white chocolate, coarsely chopped

1 1/2 cups sugar

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

1 1/2 cups milk

1/3 cup heavy cream

1 1/2 cups (3 sticks) unsalted butter, soft but cool, cut into small pieces

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1.  Using either a double boiler or a microwave, melt the white chocolate and set it aside to cool.

2.  In a medium heavy-bottom saucepan, whisk the sugar and flour together. Add the milk and cream to cook over high heat, whisking constantly, until the mixture comes to a boil. Allow to boil for one minute, whisking quickly the whole time and being very careful not to scorch; all told this takes about ten minutes.

3.  Transfer the mixture to the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Beat on high speed until cool; the goal is to have the mixture be cool enough to emulsify rather than melt the butter. Reduce the speed to medium and add the butter; mix until thoroughly incorporated. Increase the speed to medium-high and beat until the frosting is light and fluffy.

Add the vanilla and white chocolate and continue mixing until combined; it should thicken immediately. Use right away or, if frosting is too thin, thicken it up in the fridge for 20 to 30 minutes until it reaches desired consistency.

For the grapefruit cream filling

Adapted from Tartine Bakery, via Food52

Yield: 2 ½ cups, about twice what you'll need for a cake

1 cup grapefruit juice, reduced to ½ cup  

2 tablespoons lemon juice

3 large eggs

1 large egg yolk

6 tablespoons granulated sugar

Pinch salt

12 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into tablespoon pieces

1. Pour water to a depth of about 2 inches into a saucepan, place over medium heat, and bring to a simmer. Combine the juice, whole eggs, yolk, sugar, and salt in a stainless steel bowl that will rest securely in the rim of a saucepan over, not touching, the water. (Never let the egg yolks and sugar sit together for more than a moment without stirring; the sugar will cure the yolks and turn them granular.)

2.  Place the bowl over the saucepan and continue to whisk until the mixture becomes very thick and registers 180 degrees F on a thermometer—ten to 12 minutes. Remove the bowl from over the water and let cool to 140 degrees F, stirring from time to time to release the heat.

3.  When the base is cool, pour it into a countertop blender. With the blender running, add the butter one tablespoon at a time, blending after each addition until incorporated before adding the next piece. The cream will be pale yellow and thick. It can be used immediately, but I had better results letting it thicken up in the fridge more. The cream will keep covered in the fridge for five days; do not store in a metal bowl.

Grapefruit Olive Oil Snacking Cake

Just a few months after graduating from university, I high-tailed it for the east coast along with one of my best college buddies. My reasons were lousy—I was blinded by love!—but they ended up being a fortuitous mistake. Courtney and I replied to a Craigslist housing ad titled, "Ahoy, Future Housemateys," from which we met Bobbie and Katie J., and I ended up making some of my life's greatest friends. DC has been so strangely magnetic the past few years, in fact, that California was difficult to miss unless my folks sent a box of avocados my way or the weather at Christmas was shorty shorts–appropriate.

To be totally fair though, my going to California was a rarity—a strictly holiday occasion. And then, in my ranging young adulthood, I've found myself at home in San Diego for an entire three weeks and going on the final fourth. It was high-time to spend some valuable moments with my folks, both of whom have so much to teach that's impossible to learn on the other side of the country. So here I am: welding and soldering with Dad, getting jewelry-making feedback and sewing help from Mom, learning the long-term relationship virtues of nitpicking and pretending not to know your partner in public. It's been great! The totally unexpected added bonus on being home has been the pounds upon pounds of citrus foisted upon us by neighbors. White grapefruit, California Key limes, regular ol' limes, Meyer lemons, oranges galore—basically all the fixings to finally make this—are overflowing from the fruit basket on our counter. Since my folks don't themselves eat a lot of plain citrus, I've been baking a bunch of fruity desserts to hand right back to the neighbors. And for the first time in a long time, California actually feels like home and I'm not looking an iota forward to leaving again. Ceaseless citrus can have that effect.

Grapefruit Olive Oil Cake
Adapted from Melissa Clark

Melissa Clark's original recipe is for a blood orange cake, but our neighbors don't grow those! As you'll read in the instructions below, I topped our cake with a layer of pithless grapefruit slices, which is why it looks custardy in the center; they sank and were delicious that way. Our grapefruit was also pretty bitter, and we all enjoyed that about the cake, but you can leave out the chunks of fruit if you're concerned about the bitterness, or just be sure to use sweeter grapefruit.

Zest from two large grapefruits, white or pink or ruby red
Scant 1 cup granulated sugar
Juice of one-half grapefruit
About 1/2 cup plain yogurt
3 large eggs
2/3 cup olive oil, the fruitier the better
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
3 tablespoons granulated sugar, for top

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 10-inch cake round with olive oil. Grate zest from both grapefruits and place in a bowl with sugar. Using your fingers, rub ingredients together until zest is evenly distributed in sugar and the oils are released.

2.  Halve a grapefruit and squeeze one-half of it into a measuring cup to yield about one-quarter cup juice. Set aside. If your grapefruit is sweet, slice the pith and peel off of the second grapefruit, following the curve of the fruit, so that nothing but grapefruit flesh is visible; cut the ends off and slice grapefruit into quarter-inch rounds. Set aside. Keep in mind that bitter fruit will yield bitter bites, which is a-okay by my family, but not be your audience’s fave. You can skip the fruit altogether if you’re so inclined, but those juicy fruit pockets are nice. Beauty of being the baker? It’s your prerogative.

3.  Back to the grapefruit juice: fill rest of measuring cup with yogurt until you have two-thirds cup of liquid altogether. Pour mixture into bowl with sugar and whisk well. Whisk in eggs. Whisk in oil well.

4.  In another bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Gently whisk dry ingredients into wet ones. Scrape batter into pan and smooth top, then sprinkle with a tablespoon of sugar. Top with a single layer of grapefruit slices, followed by the remaining two tablespoons of sugar.

5.  Bake cake for 30 to 40 minutes, or until it is golden and a toothpick inserted into center comes out free of batter (note that some fruit may cling to cake tester). Cool on a rack for ten minutes, then unmold and cool to room temperature right-side up. Dust with powdered sugar or top with some whipped cream if that’s your thang. Cake will keep covered at room temperature for a few days!

Pumpkin Roll with Brandy Whipped Cream and Salted Caramel

As of a week ago, my parents have been married for four decades. They went to the same Ventura high school, but weren’t attached in those days; they got together for the first time ten years later, after their high school reunion when my mom called up my dad about getting a cup of coffee on her layover in San Francisco. In my sweet momma’s yearbook though, my student body president, jock of a pops wrote something to the tune of, “Dear Gail, your senior portrait turned out great. I’ve always thought you had a beautiful smile.” Cuuuuttttteeeee. Wham, bam, forty years later, and my nice-as-pie folks found themselves on our farm Maine celebrating their anniversary with me, one-half the consequence of their union. Joked my dad about the milestone, “Well, it’s just that divorce is too much trouble,” upon which he leaned in and allowed me take the cutest photo in the history of photos.

After their day on the farm, which included brunch and observing “bucks licking their carrots” (direct mom-quote), my folks traveled back south to their cabin where I joined them the next day. Pops took out an ad in the local paper commemorating their anniversary, and after that, the occasion went largely unobserved. We all cuddled up to the fire to read and watch movies, but considered disowning one another upon a particularly irksome game of Chinese checkers; “This is what forty years of marriage gets you,” was shot back and forth both lovingly and sarcastically throughout the days.

This pumpkin cake wasn’t for their anniversary per se, but because they hardly ever bake and my mom is equal parts into whipped cream and liquor while my dad loves pumpkin, the weekend was a good opportunity to capitalize on having more than one dessert-hungry mouth. My mom “assisted” by surreptitiously “taste-testing” whipped cream while my dad critiqued my photo lighting, but the trouble paid off once we sat down to scarf half the cake with coffee and Baileys on the side (so much liquor, this family!). This is a super dessert. The pumpkin comes through just enough--I’m not all that into extremely pumpkin-tasting things--while the brandy and caramel hold it all down. The cake is very delicate and airy so it’s best eaten on day one or two, but I brought the leftovers back to the farm where they lasted just fine until day three.

Pumpkin Roll Cake

Adapted significantly from Epicurious

Pumpkin Cake

3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 1/4 teaspoons ground ginger
3/4 teaspoon ground allspice
6 large eggs, separated
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup golden brown sugar, packed
2/3 cup pumpkin puree, canned or roasted is fine
1/4 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt

Salted Caramel
1 cup sugar
6 tablespoons salted butter, cut into pieces
1/4 cup heavy cream

Brandy Whipped Cream
1 cup heavy cream
3 tablespoons powdered sugar
2 to 3 tablespoons brandy (or Cointreau or bourbon, etc.)

1.  Make pumpkin cake:  preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter and flour a 15x10x1-inch jellyroll sheet. Sift flour, cinnamon, ginger and allspice into small bowl. Using handheld mixer, beat egg yolks, 1/3 cup sugar and 1/3 cup brown sugar in large bowl until very thick, about three minutes. On low speed, beat in pumpkin, then dry ingredients. Using clean dry beaters, beat egg whites and salt in another large bowl until stiff but not dry. Fold egg whites into batter in three additions. Transfer to prepared pan. Bake cake until tester is inserted comes out clean, about 15 minutes.

2.  Cut around pan sides to loosen cake. Place damp paper towels or kitchen towel (not terry cloth) over top of cake and let stand for ten minutes; gently remove, and don’t worry when bits of cake stick to the towel. Dust top of cake with powdered sugar, and cover with a dry kitchen towel that’s longer and wider than the cake. Flip out onto counter on top the towel, and dust again with powdered sugar. Using towel to help you lift and roll, gently roll the cake from short end to short end with the towel inside. Allow cake to cool completely, encased in towel with the seam side down.

3.  Make caramel:  Add sugar to a medium, heavy bottomed saucepan. Cook over medium heat until sugar begins to dissolve, swirling occasionally to evenly distribute heat. Allow to cook until caramel turns a reddish amber color. Add butter and stir to melt. Remove pan from heat and carefully add cream; mixture will bubble up. Return to heat if you need to dissolve any hardened pieces, otherwise, pour caramel into a jar or bowl and allow it to cool.

4.  Make filling and assemble cake:  In a large bowl, beat heavy cream, sugar, and liquor until stiff peaks form. Gently unroll cake and remove tea towel. Spread whipped cream evenly over cake, and reroll, short side to short side. Place cake seam side down on serving plate. Cut into one-inch slices or larger, and drizzle with a spoonful or two of the caramel. You may need to pop to caramel into the microwave for ten seconds to make it pourable. Cake will keep covered in the fridge for several days; leftover caramel will keep for a few days.

Summer Raspberry Cake

Toward the end of last week's Winter Harbor farmers' market, I remarked to the vegetable and fruit farmers how very beautiful were their quarts of raspberries. It had been a dreary, if also uplifting morning, and the brightness of the raspberries sailed out over the grey. Just as Dave and I hopped into the truck to head back, Rick came by and shoved two quarts of berries into one of our coolers—the first of what is amounting to be many generosities shown us by fellow farmers and food producers. 

When I left DC, it seemed that raspberries were on their way out. Strawberries had long gone, cherries had passed too, and blackberries were racking up a precious five to six dollars per pint. The few weeks before my departure showed some of the best of what DC has to offer in terms of fruit—though most stone fruit was only just getting underway—and it was a shame that I missed nearly all of it due to the stresses of leaving. But Maine has given me a do-over! Rick's raspberries from last week were, he said, one of the first pulls of the season and will continue to get brighter and sweeter through mid-August. We're fast on the heels of blueberry season up here, and blackberry season—the best of all of summer—is just around the corner. 

And after being handed some of the most beautiful berries for free, I of course proceeded to let them languish in the fridge, getting sadder and juicier every day. Plots to make creme fraiche raspberry tarts fell by the wayside, and the berries were nearing jam territory when I realized how utterly surrounded by milk, butter, and eggs I am at this time. So in between placating squealing baby goats and almost scorching a batch of mozzarella milk late one night, I baked this breezy summer cake to save what was left of the raspberries. I overbaked it just a bit as I got distracted by foreign sounds and telephone calls from far-away friends, but the berry craters on top and jam pockets within were so nice that I'll definitely be making another version with our next batch of neglected berries.

Summer Raspberry Cake
Adapted from Martha Stewart and Smitten Kitchen


Try this with any berry! Smitten Kitchen does it with a pound of strawberries, and I'm fixing to do a blackberry buttermilk one in a few weeks. The juicier and heavier the berry the better, so if you're using blueberries, macerate them in a tablespoon of sugar first, and if you're using something like raspberries, push a few down into the batter to ensure you get those jammy pockets.

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus extra for pan
1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½  teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
1 scant cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar, divided
1 large egg
½  cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (or almond!)
8 ounces fresh raspberries, or about 1 ½ pints

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a 9- or 10-inch spring-form cake pan. Whisk flour, baking powder and salt together in a small bowl. In a stand mixer on medium or in a large bowl with a handheld mixer, beat butter and scant one cup sugar until pale and fluffy, about two minutes. Mix in egg, milk, and vanilla or almond extract until just combined. Add dry mixture gradually, mixing until just smooth.

2.  Pour batter into prepared pie plate. Arrange raspberries on top of batter, as closely as possible; try to keep it to a single layer of berries. Poke a few down into the batter so that you end up with a few jam pockets baked in. Sprinkle remaining two tablespoons of sugar evenly over the berries and batter.

3.  Bake cake for ten minutes then reduce oven temperature to 325 degrees F and bake until cake is golden brown and a tester comes out free of wet batter, about 50 60 minutes. Be careful not to overbake. Let cool in pan on a rack for about ten minutes before removing spring-form sides. Serve slices with barely sweetened whipped cream! Cake should keep covered at room temperature for a few days, but it’s also good cold from the fridge with a mug of coffee in the morning!

Everyday Chocolate Bundt Cake

Last weekend I visited a few of my best friends on the planet, who all conveniently live in Brooklyn, which is naught but a four-hour bus trip from here. Counter to my fair city’s reputation for transience, the DC I know is a place where mostly everyone seems to have known their friends from the age of zero, and where one Sunday at a bar, for instance, Joey ran into a years-old roommate and two former smooching partners, one of whom was also the baby-love from his elementary glory days. Having unceremoniously abandoned California nearly four years ago, I’ve put myself in the sometimes liberating, sometimes lonely position of spending the majority of my time with people who haven’t known me for all that long, and whose perspective on my personhood must be so much different (more forgiving? more confused?) from that of those who knew me during my unconfident, yet ballsy college days.

More than anything, the trip to Brooklyn was really a relief. We drank, loafed, and ate; we joked, complained, and plotted. With hands to the ceiling and dance moves a-go, we scream-sang karaoke to Hole and Kelly Clarkson until 5:00 a.m. before sleeping for three hours to wake up and eat deviled eggs at breakfast the “next” day. Spending the whole weekend with my old friends—some of whom I hadn’t seen in years, actually—was like allowing myself to bask in our shared weirdness, or our unfiltered self-ness. It felt like being home. I’m not sure when I’ll get to see them next, especially as I am making very exciting decisions that take me fairly far away from New York and DC, but I am thrilled to have had last weekend, just as I’m looking so very forward to knowing my DC friends for years upon years and coming home to them too.

And finally, in the spirit of roots, here is this amazing Bundt cake, the shape of cake that is my very absolute favorite. I grew up with Bundts, from my mom’s utterly drunken rum cake, to her casual yellow cake with chocolate glaze and the kissin’ cousin angel food cake with mashed strawberries which is so similarly shaped. I prefer it to all cakes except birthday cakes, because the shape is somehow reassuring, and because generally the batters come together without fuss. This one features some whole-wheat flour, beer, yogurt, and beer again in the glaze, and I highly recommend that you make it right soon and share it with all of your friends. 

Everyday Chocolate Bundt Cake
Adapted, barely, from 101Cookbooks

Cake
2 cups (16 oz.) chocolate or coffee stout or porter (I used Southern Tier Jahvee)
3/4 cup cocoa powder, not dutched (I used the fahn-cy kind), plus more for dusting
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, plus more for greasing pan
1 cup whole-wheat flour
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup dark brown sugar (trust)
1 1/2 tsp. baking soda
3/4 teaspoon sea salt
3 large eggs
3/4 cup maple syrup, grade B is best
1 1/2 cups plain whole fat yogurt (I used 2%)

Icing
3/4 cup powdered sugar
1/4 cup cocoa powder, not dutched
2 to 3 tablespoons chocolate or coffee stout or porter
Sea salt for sprinkling

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F with a rack in the center. Generously grease an 11- or 12-cup Bundt pan with about two tablespoons of butter. Sprinkle with cocoa (Pro tip: instead of your usual flour, cocoa will keep the chocolate cake from having white streaks after it's baked) and tap out the excess. If you lack such a serious Bundt pan, use two standard loaf pans and adjust the baking time (about the same for metal, more for glass; start checking the cakes at 30 minutes), or one 8- to 10-cup Bundt pan and some side cupcakes. Whatever pans you choose, just try not to fill them more than two-thirds to three-fourths full, cautions Heidi.

2.  In a medium saucepan, simmer the stout for about 25 minutes until it is reduced to one cup. Whisk in the cocoa powder and butter, and set aside to cool, stirring occasionally to break up the heat.

3.  In a medium bowl, sift flours, sugar, baking soda, and salt; set aside. In a large bowl, combine the eggs, syrup, and yogurt until uniform in appearance. Gradually whisk in the cooled stout mixture, stirring all the while. Add the flour mixture, folding with a rubber spatula until just blended.

4.  Transfer batter to your choice of pan (I vote Bundt!), and bake in the center of the oven for 35 to 45 minutes until a knife inserted into the relative center comes out clean. Start checking your cake at 30 minutes, as this is one you don't want to overbake. Remove from oven and turn cake out onto a cooling rack after seven minutes.

5.  While the cake is cooling, whisk all of your icing ingredients in a medium bowl. Add more stout or more sugar as necessary to achieve your desired consistency. Pour over the top of the cool-ish cake, or use an off-set spatula to swathe it on. Sprinkle with some flecks of sea salt before enjoying; don't be dismayed that the salt will eventually dissolve and leave li'l dimples in your frosting. It still tastes great. Cake keeps for about four days, covered, or longer in the fridge. It's actually great cold, so I recommend the latter.

Aunt Sassy (Pistachio) Cake with Honey Vanilla Buttercream

Sometimes it feels irrelevant to write a baking blog. I always wonder whether this is not the totally wrong forum for me to write about being distraught with the government, or forlorn that Joey is moving to Vermont, or sad about my job, which forever bites the big one. Those things are all true, but then there is this glorious, delicious cake and the trouble of connecting it to Jon Kyl’s fake facts, Obama’s squirmy backbone, or the utter weirdness of an impending long-distance relationship; it’s so much smoother to connect baked goods to weekends and perpetual good times. Maybe I ought to thank my luck for the latitude afforded by the jokey truism that a blog-writer’s biggest audience is herself.

Joey's hand action shot! They can't all be winners.

So the government stinks tremendously, Joey is leaving, and my job is an endless bummer, but this cake is like eating airy, pistachio angel food cake swathed in magic frosting that rights ills and boosts moods! I made it for Ruben and Joaquin’s full-of-love engagement party, and initially I felt ill-equipped to describe how super good it is (the recipe gets all the credit!), and then my Alice Medrich cookie rampage clouded my cake-blogging motivations. But this cake—every bit as delicious as the ingredients tell you—is much, much easier to make than it seems and totally relevant to whatever is going on in your life, be it wishing some smarts into the government of celebrating the wonderful folks in your life.

Aunt Sassy Cake with Honey Buttercream

Adapted (barely) from Baked Explorations

I don't own any 8-inch cake pans so I attempted to proportion this recipe to fit my 6-inch cake pans instead. Using this awesome website, I learned I'd have to make 60% of the original recipe to do so, but I can't do that kind of math so I stuck to the original proportions but used my small pans and made six cupcakes with the leftover batter. It actually turned out great because the layers were towering and there were cupcakes for sampling. Also, this is a long recipe, but it's uncomplicated and totally worth the labor.

Pistachio Cake

1 cup shelled, unsalted pistachios (plus more for garnish, below)

2 1/2 cups cake flour

3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

3/4 teaspoon salt 

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened

1/2 cup vegetable shortening (I used Spectrum brand)

1 3/4 cups granulated sugar

1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract

1 large egg

1 1/2 cups ice water

3 large egg whites, at room temperature

1/4 tsp. cream of tartar

Honey Vanilla Buttercream

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

1 1/2 cups whole milk

1/3 cup heavy cream

1 1/2 cups (3 sticks) unsalted butter, soft but not warm, cut into small pieces

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

3 tablespoons honey

Garnish

1/2 cup pistachios

1 tablespoon sugar

Make the Cake Layers

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Butter three 8-inch (I used 6-inch) round cake pans, line them with parchment, butter the parchment, flour it too, and tap out the excess flour. (F'real. My layers did not stick at all, so I'm not about to tell you that this step is overkill.)

2.  In the bowl of a food processor, process just one cup of the pistachios until they are coarsely chopped. Transfer two tablespoons of the nuts to a large bowl, and then process the rest into a powder, but not a dust. Stir the pistachio powder into the large bowl with the coarse nuts. Sift the flours, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in the large bowl. Dump anything left in the sifter into the bowl; stir.

3.  In a large bowl, beat the butter and shortening on medium until creamy, three to four minutes. Add the sugar and vanilla and beat about three more minutes until fluffy. Add the egg and beat until just combined. Turn your egg beater or mixer on low, and add the flour mixture to the bowl in three parts, alternating with the ice water, and beginning and ending with the flour. The mixer should be on low for each addition, and flip it to medium for a few seconds until ingredients are incorporated; scrape bowl before each new addition.

4.  In a medium bowl, beat the egg whites and cream of tartar on low until soft peaks form, but don't overwhip; gently fold whites into the batter using a rubber spatula. Divide the batter among the prepared pans and smooth the tops. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes (my six-inch pans still took 40) until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Let cakes cool in their pans for 20 minutes before removing them; allow to cool completely and then remove the parchment paper. At this point, I triple-wrapped my layers in plastic wrap for froze them for two days, which I've been led to believe makes frosting delicate cake layers terrifically easy. 

Make the Frosting

1.  In a medium saucepan, whisk the sugar and flour together. Add the milk and cream and cook over medium heat (I cooked on low because I have a gas range), whisking occasionally until the mixture comes to a boil and thickens, ten to 15 minutes.

2.  Transfer the mixture to a cold bowl and beat with a mixer on high speed until cool, about seven to nine minutes. Press some bags of frozen berries to the sides of the bowl to speed up the process. Reduce the speed to low and add the butter, mixing all the way. Increase the speed to medium-high and beat until frosting is light and fluffy, about two minutes.

3.  Add the vanilla and honey and continue mixing to combine. If the frosting is too soft, put the bowl in the fridge to chill, then beat it again until it's the right consistency. (I had to put mine in the fridge for 20 minutes.)

Assemble the Cake

1.  Crush the remaining 1/2 cup pistachios with 1 tablespoon of sugar in your food processor; don't go too fine.

2.  Level the tops of your cake layers (easier if they're frozen). Place on on your plate, and smooth 1 1/4 cups frosting on top. Add the next leveled layer and the same amount of frosting, then the third layer. Spread a very thin layer over the top and sides and put in the fridge for 15 minutes if you can (this is the crumb coat and helps tamp down loose crumbs), then spread the rest of the frosting on. Garnish the cake with the crushed pistachios, and refrigerate for 15 minutes to firm up. The cookbook recommends letting the cake come to room temperature for two hours before serving; I think we did incidentally, but it's not so fussy of a cake that you have to. Keeps for three days in a cake saver at room temperature.

A Wedding and Forty-Eight Cupcakes (+ Yellow Cake)

I used to be on the fence about summertime in DC. Being from the desert and all, I developed what my boss calls a "tender California constitution" that leaves me absolutely enfeebled by the humidity. I had a killer summer last year anyway, but I was starting to feel languid last week when temperatures hit 100 and going to work felt like bicycling through a butterstick. This year, I've decided to run with it. I embarked upon my summer with a trip to Richmond to visit the very best of pals, and when not eating Cuban food or drinking iced coffee, we explored the neighborhood, hiked through the forest, and thrashed down the river, earning belly scrapes and having a ball with the best dog of all time. I made a new friend too, and I'm riding my post-Richmond high all the way to Maine on Friday, followed by Texas and Seattle, and back to North Carolina and Pittsburgh in late July, just time to revel in the peak of east coast heat. 

So I've recently vacated my perch to plant myself on the pro-summer side of the fence, which, in addition to unholy heat, boasts baseball, swimming holes, piles of fruit pies, IPAs, citronella, Arsenal Park Olympics, and no time to wait for autumn. And then there are the weddings! Summer has also brought a slew of weddings, and for one of these, I was hired (hired!) to bake four dozen cupcakes for a small Friday-night reception. I'll soon get to the fruit pies (and their buttery, flaky, and possibly cream cheesy crusts), but for the mo' I want to delight in the floor-to-ceiling pile of dishes and frosted floors that begot my first wedding project, one dozen each of:  carrot cake with maple cream cheese frosting and cinnamon flecks, rich chocolate cake with vanilla-marshmallow frosting, my favorite yellow cake with bittersweet chocolate buttercream, and vegan dark chocolate cake with vegan chocolate buttercream. I realize that I posted this yellow cake recipe once before, but I did it such a sloppy disservice, that that's the recipe I'll post today. Happy summer y'all.

Yellow Cake Cupcakes

Adapted from Sky High: Irresistible Triple-Layer Cakes by Alisa Huntsman

This recipe makes exactly 18 cupcakes. The quantities might strike you as impractical, but they are they way they are because I've halved this recipe from a triple-layer cake recipe. The original quantities are available here. 

1 1/2 cups + 6 tablespoons cake flour (all-purpose is fine)

1 1/4 cups granulated sugar

2 3/4 teaspoons + 1/8 teaspoon baking powder (or, one scant tablespoon)

1 1/4 sticks (ten tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature

3/4 cups + 2 1/2 teaspoons buttermilk

2 1/2 whole eggs

1 egg yolk

1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract

1.  Preheat over to 325 degrees F. Spray two cupcake tins lightly with cooking oil and line with cupcake liners.

2. In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt; stir with a fork to combine. Using an electric mixer on low speed, mix butter and 3/4 cup buttermilk to briefly blend; then increase the speed to medium and blend for two to three minutes, until fluffy.

3.  In a smaller bowl, whisk together the eggs, remaining buttermilk, and vanilla extract. Pour one-third of the egg mixture into the flour mixture at a time, folding it in completely with a rubber spatula after each addition. Divide the batter between the cupcake tins, filling each bowl about three-fourths full.  Bake for 15-20 minutes (mine were finished at 18), or until a wooden toothpick inserted into the centers comes out clean.

4.  Allow the cakes to cool in the pans for ten minutes before gently twisting them out of the pans and allowing them to cool completely on wire racks. Proceed with the frosting recipe that follows, or consult a different one!

Bittersweet Chocolate Buttercream

This makes a little more than enough to pipe the frosting onto cupcakes, about 2 1/2 cups. You'll need less if you plan to spread it instead.

7 ounces bittersweet chocolate (I used Ghiradelli)

1 cup heavy cream

1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature

1.  Melt the chocolate with the cream in a double boiler set over barely simmering water. Whisk to blend well. Remove from heat and let stand, whisking occasionally, until the chocolate has thickened to the consistency of mayonnaise (this might be tough if your house is particularly hot -- a stint in the fridge could help).

2.  Place the butter in a large mixing bowl and whip on medium-high speed with an electric mixer until light and fluffy, one to two minutes. Add the chocolate cream and beat until lighter in color and somewhat stiff, about three minutes. Do not overwhip, or your frosting might separate. Pipe away!

Old-Fashioned Gingerbread

I'll just say it:  Chocolate has been surpassed by ginger as my unequivocal favorite ingredient to bake with. Maybe it's the winter doldrums, but dudes, these days it's all about flavors that punch you in the mouth. This recipe is for those of you fellow ginger fiends who love rib-sticking molasses baked goods and unabated intense flavors. The combination of molasses and stout beer seriously smacks, and while the cake is pictured here with a dusting of powdered sugar, I found it was even better when I swathed a slice in butter and sprinkled it with sea salt, serious as a heart attack.

Old-Fashioned Gingerbread

Adapted from Claudia Fleming of Gramercy Tavern

1 cup oatmeal or standard stout beer (I used Guinness, but I'd like to try Bell's Kalamazoo or something with a stronger flavor)

1 cup dark molasses (not blackstrap)

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

2 tablespoons ground ginger (I added an extra 1/2 teaspoon)

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

Pinch of ground cardamom

3 large eggs

1 cup dark brown sugar

1 cup granulated white sugar

3/4 cup vegetable oil

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Generously butter bundt pan and dust with flour, knocking out excess.

2.  Bring stout and molasses to a boil in a medium to large saucepan.  Remove from heat and whisk in baking soda (mixture will bubble up some).  Let cool to room temperature.

3.  Sift flour, baking powder, and spices in a large bowl.  In a separate large bowl, whisk together eggs and sugars.  Whisk in oil, then molasses mixture.  Add liquids to flour mixture and whisk until just combined.

4.  Pour batter into bundt pan, and rap pan sharply on the counter a few times to eliminate air bubbles.  Bake in the center of the oven until a cake tester stuck into the cake comes out with just a few moist crumbs adhering, about 50 minutes.  Let cake cool for five to eight minutes, and then turn out onto cooling rack and let cool completely.  Serve dusted with powdered sugar and unsweetened whipped cream, or with unsalted butter and a smattering of salt on top.

*Some have said that this cake is best when made a day in advance.  I made mine the night before, and found it was ever-so-slightly more bitter the next day, which I was way into.

Yellow Cake with Bittersweet Chocolate Buttercream

If Candyland was real, or if Tim Burton had a cupcake shop, the cupcakes might look something like these little monstrosities. Yellow cake with chocolate frosting is my favorite cake combination, but lest a cupcake with classic flavors ever appear to be boring, I went as Sega as possible with the buttercream (and my new, shitty pastry bag from Safeway). This is the best yellow-cake recipe in my (and now your) reperetoire, and the bittersweet tinge to the frosting adds an unexpected and welcome departure from the sticky milk chocolates of childhood.

Check that little guy on the left! It's like Japanime in frosting form.

Awesome Yellow Cake

Using my supreme math skillz, I halved the following recipe to make 18 cupcakes. I haven’t provided the halved quantities since I left my sheet of math skillz conclusions at home (Woo! Blogging from work!). This makes one three-layer 9-inch round cake. Both recipes adapted from

Sky High: Irresistable Triple Layer Cakes.

3 3/4 cups cake flour

2 1/2 cups sugar

1 tablespoon plus 2 3/4 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt
2 1/2 sticks (10 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 1/4 cups plus 1/3 cup buttermilk

5 whole eggs

2 egg yolks

2 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1. Preheat the oven to 325°F. Butter three 9-inch round cake pans. Line the bottom of each pan with a round of parchment or waxed paper and butter the paper.

2. Combine the cake flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large mixer bowl. With the mixer on low speed, blend for 30 seconds. Add the butter and 1 1/4 cup of the buttermilk. Mix on low speed briefly to blend; then raise the speed to medium and beat until light and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes.

3. In a smaller bowl, whisk together the whole eggs, egg yolks, vanilla, and the remaining 1/3 cup buttermilk until well blended. Pour one-third of the egg mixture into the cake batter at a time, folding it in completely after each addition. There will be 9 cups of batter; our 3 cups batter into each pan.

4. Bake for 26 to 28 minutes (between 20 and 25 minutes for cupcakes—but start checking at 15 minutes just to be sure!), or until a cake tester or wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

5. Turn the layers out onto wire racks by placing a rack on top of a pan, inverting it, and lifting off the pan. Peel off backs, let cool, and do what you will with frosting options!

Bittersweet Chocolate Buttercream

7 ounces bittersweet chocolate

1 cup heavy cream

1 stick (4 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1. Melt the chocolate with the cream in a double boiler or metal bowl set
over a pan of simmering water. Whisk to blend well. Remove from heat and let stand, whisking occasionally, until the chocolate mixture thickens to the consistency of mayonnaise (Gross, but true. Be patient, because the thicker this gets, the fluffier your frosting will be).

2. Place the butter in a large mixer bowl and with an electric mixer on medium speed, whip the butter until light and fluffy. Add the chocolate cream and whip until lighter in color and somewhat stiff, about three minutes. Do not whip too long or the frosting may begin to separate.

Do It Better than Sara Lee

I fear that I might be setting a bad precedent here. First with the boxed brownie praise, and now I am going to confess another unrespectable crush from my childhood relationship with baked goods. I, dear reader(s), was mighty obsessed with Sara Lee pound cake. Truly. The cardboard label atop the buttery brick of a cake was held in place by a roll-up-roll-down aluminum frame, whose ridges I would ceremoniously pry up one by one until the cardboard top had been released from its holder, and I was free to dive into the cake. “Plunge” might be a more accurate verb since it better connotes the cake’s bulky thickness; Sara Lee never made a light and gracious pound cake.

I had to splurge for an egg beater--finally! It is necessary to have some sort of butter-whipping device, or a very strong and committed arm, to make this cake.

I must admit that I even had a favorite knife for cutting the cake. It was a mock-pearl-handled silver knife with brass screws and a serrated edge—it cut the cake into smooth, crumbs-intact slices. I used to spin circles on my family’s wooden bar stools, eating one thick slice after another with piles of Reddi Whipped Cream (oh, cringe again!) and strawberries if they were around. A few times, I tried broiling slices of pound cake with honey in our oven, but for some sugary reason the habit never caught on. In any case, that cake was the stuff of after-school dreams. Buttery as all hell and with a smooth crumb and a delightfully browned crust, I don’t mean to sing its praises so heartily, but my goodness, was it ever a mighty fine cake.

Good gracious. This crackled crust is the most delicious. I would slice it off and eat it alone were that not arguably an act of baking sacrilege.

Fast forward to the maturation of my taste buds, and you’ll see that I have come very far in my development of a properly discerning palate. Like brownies, however, pound cake has frequently lurked beneath my homebaking adult radar because I’ve had a hard time imagining the dessert in any form other than coffin-shaped and heavy as a brick. After making a few lemon pound cakes here and there, but not really liking them at all, I sort of forgot about pound cake. At my favorite cafe in Berkeley, I would always bypass the pound cake for a vegan cookie, a chocolate cupcake, or a few macaroons. Well, along came a recipe for cream cheese pound cake via Deb over at Smitten Kitchen, and I realized that it had been some years since I’d even attempted to recall the taste of such a cake. Suddenly those chocolate cupcakes I’d been meaning to make took a backseat. So did the lemon meringue pie, the pistachio-cherry chocolate squares, and the chocolate chip gingersnaps. I refreshed Deb’s pictures of the cake for days before I finally found a decent excuse (Lady Adventure Evening) to try out the recipe on some similarly food-inclined friends.

You can see at the bottom where the cake sunk a bit, but it didn't get gummy, just richer and more delicious.

Let me cut to the chase and tell you that there was not a crumb of disappointment. This pound cake tastes, looks, smells, and feels spectacular. It rose marvelously, and while it did sink a touch, I am convinced this was because my Bundt pan is ten cups when it should be 12, and so the cake did not have enough support. But the vanilla taste is smooth and inviting, the crumbs are velvety, and the cake is thick and buttery without being dense or gummy. What’s more, the addition of cream cheese makes a delightful crackled crust that is nearly impossible not to pick off and eat once the cake is out of the oven. This is a tremendous cake. I can only provide so much external feedback, because between my six friends and I, this cake for 12 was gone in two days. What’s worse is that this cake gets better with age, or sweeter anyway. I had a slice for breakfast with a heaping cup of coffee in the cake’s fortieth hour, and it was even more delicious that it had been straight out of the oven. Without further ado, I should present the recipe to you, with the suggestion to stick with the almond extract--overwhelming though I know it can be--and adapt as you see fit. I think it would be delicious with some crystallized ginger thrown in or eaten with some fresh berries. At ladies' night, we topped ours with mango, and if you were so inclined, I think a mango coulis would be good because you could get a spoonful of syrup with every bite. Seriously though, this cake is delicious plain, and with a twirl of honey and a handful of chopped almonds, you could have yourself a pretty impressive brunch contribution. Bake away and let me know what you think!

Cream Cheese Pound Cake
By Way of Smitten Kitchen

Here I must implore to you get a baking thermometer. I recently discovered that my oven is a whole 25 degrees cooler than it should be. This will be the best six bucks that Target ever set you back if you're a committed baker. And if you're not a committed or ever a frequent baker, I still highly recommend one because it's made my relationship with my oven tons more harmonious.

1 1/2 cups (3 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 package (8 ounces) cream cheese, at room temperature
3 cups sugar
6 large eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract plus 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
3 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt

1. Preheat the oven to 325°F. Lightly butter and flour a 12-cup Bundt pan.

2. Place the butter and cream cheese in a large bowl and beat with a mixer on medium speed until smooth. Add the sugar, increase the speed to high, and beat until light and airy, at least five minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating after each addition and scraping down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula as needed. Add the vanilla, almond, then the flour and salt all at once. Beat just until incorporated.

3. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and even out the top with a rubber spatula or by shaking gently. Bake until the cake is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the cake comes out clean, 1 1/4 hours.

4. Place the pan on a cake rack and cool for 20 minutes, then remove the cake from the pan and let it cool completely. Serve at room temperature.