Caramelized Carrot Cake with Milk Jam Sour Cream

You guys, this is important: it is fried cake. To be specific, it is carrot cake that has been cut into bars, rolled in sugar, and skillet-fried until caramelized. I ain’t looking back. Especially not since the whole she-bang is topped with milk jam, which is basically just a sort of gross name for the most delicious combination of homemade sweetened condensed milk plus a spoonful of sour cream. This cake was amazing, but it’s the method that’s the take-home. Why have I not fried cake before?!

The cake-caramelizing technique comes to us courtesy of Oxheart from last month’s issue of Bon Appetit, and was brought to life by Tim Mazurek over on Lottie + Doof. It was, in fact, his tweeted suggestion of pan-frying carrot cake in particular that brings us here today. I find it totally okay to reaffirm his kitchen genius by telling you that I first tried this with gingerbread and it just wasn’t as good as the carrot, though I may yet try again. Old-fashioned white cake is one of my favorites of all time, and I'm sure that it would be out of this world rolled and fried and maybe topped with some chocolate bourbon sauce: endless delicious possibilities!

Can we also just take some personal time to love this song? It is so good, and I hope that you enjoy it too. The perfect cake-eating soundtrack, right? Right.

Caramelized Carrot Cake with Milk Jam Sour Cream
Inspired by Bon Appetit and Lottie + Doof

Carrot Cake
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen
 
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
2 heaping teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 heaping teaspoon ground ginger
2 cups granulated sugar
1 1/4 cups canola oil
4 large eggs (I used duck eggs! It worked.)
3 cups grated, peeled carrots
Granulated sugar for frying

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter the bottom of a 13”x9”x2” pan, line it with waxed paper or parchment, and butter and flour that in turn.

2.  Whisk flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger in medium bowl. Whisk sugar and oil in large bowl until well blended. Whisk in eggs one at a time. Add flour mixture and stir until blended. Stir in carrots. Pour batter into cake pan and smooth the top. Bake for 30 to minutes, or until a tester inserted into the center comes out clean.

3.  Let cool in pans for five minutes or so, then transfer cakes to a cooling rack. Let cool completely, then wrap in two layers of plastic wrap and pop it into the freezer for at least two. Wrap in a third layer of plastic if planning to keep cake in freezer for more than a week or two.

4. When ready to fry, take cake out of freezer, remove plastic, and use a serrated knife trim cake so that it has clean edges. Cut cake in half lengthwise, then cut each half into bars that are about 1.25 inches wide.

5.  Heat a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat for a few minutes (I found that my pan had to be pretty hot to achieve the caramelizing that I was looking for). Meanwhile, spread some sugar onto a plate, and roll the four long sides of each bar in the sugar. Working in batches, caramelize the cake in skillet, turning with tongs about every 30 seconds to one minute to brown evenly. Serve warm, with milk jam sour cream, salted caramel, whipped cream, or any sort of decadent topping of your choosing.

Milk Jam Sour Cream
Adapted from Oxheart, via Bon Appetit  
2 cups whole milk
1 cup granulated sugar
About 1 tablespoon sour cream per serving

1.  Mix milk and sugar into a large heavy-bottomed saucepan, and bring to a boil over medium heat; stir until sugar is dissolved. Turn heat to low and simmer for about an hour (the recipe suggests 40 minutes, but mine took slightly longer than one hour), until mixture is thickened and reduced to about one cup. Remove from heat, and cool to thicken.

2. When ready to serve, mix one tablespoon of sour cream with about one tablespoon of milk jam, or to whatever your desired sweetness. Top cake! Extra milk jam can be used to sweeten tea, or as a totally decadent topping to waffles, cobbler, or some such thing.

Four and Twenty Blackbirds Salty Honey Pie

My mid-Atlantic pals are all hunkered down awaiting Sandy’s onslaught, battening the hatches, roasting whole turkeys, and guzzling liquor in equal measure. Some of them are camped out on the first floors of their houses, and most of them are apparently wearing short shorts, watching SVU, and playing Scrabble. I’m not envious, but I would a little bit love to be home stuffing my face and playing Celebrity with all my buds; I miss you, dudes, and wish you much safety! Up in our neck of the woods, preparations have included anchoring the barn, sheltering the baby goats from the wind, and burning the shit out of our emergency ration of molasses gingerbread (dang it)--our straits are none too dire. If the power goes out here, the Victrola will go on marathon-play, and we’ll battle out Trivial Pursuit in front of the wood-fired stove. All in all a homey prospect that Dave likens to “summer camp.”

This salty honey pie from last week’s snatch of Sunday free time has little to do with the storm, though it could make a tasty hurricane snack if you’ve got the power and time. It hails from Four & Twenty Blackbirds, a pie shop in Brooklyn that I’ve long been meaning to check out (and finally will in December!). My ol’ Tartner in crime, Emily H. of Nothing-in-the-House, whipped this up in tart form a few times back in February, but it somehow eluded my fork until last week. Daniel, our latest WWOOFer, is a certifiable honey addict who eats the stuff by the heaping spoonful; I’ve never seen a person be so into honey. Couple that with Scott, a salt hobbyist with a preference for the fancy stuff, and this place houses the perfect audience (and ingredients) for this salty-sweet goodness. I was expecting a seriously gooey filling, but it bakes up like a crunchier custard with a deep honey flavor. The only thing we were missing was whipped cream!

Mood lighting.

If you’re interested in reading more about the sisters behind this recipe and the pie shop, give a gander to this interview that Emily did with them, and then go make the pie. Stay safe, y'all. The goats and I are thinking of you.

Salty Honey Pie

Adapted from Melissa and Emily Elsen, via Nothing-in-the-House

The original recipe calls for prebaking the crust, but we were all out of foil and parchment paper at the time, so I skipped that step as did Emily. It worked out great!

For Filling

1/2 cup (8 tablespoons) butter, melted

3/4 cup granulated sugar

2 tablespoons cornmeal

1/4 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt

3/4 cup good-quality honey

2 teaspoon white vinegar

1 tsp vanilla paste (I used 1 teaspoon vanilla extract instead)

3 eggs, whisked to blend

1/2 cup cream

1 to 2 tablespoons flaky sea salt for finishing (pink Himalayan!)

1.  Roll out pie dough (recipe below!) to a 12-inch circle and line a nine-inch pie plate with it. Roll edges under, crimp as you please, and toss it in the freezer while you ready the filling.

2.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a medium bowl, whisk the melted butter with the sugar, salt, and cornmeal to make a thick paste. Add the honey, vinegar, and vanilla. Whisk in the eggs, then add the cream and blend.

3.  Pour the filling into the frozen pie shell and bake at 350 degrees F for 45 to 60 minutes; rotate pie halfway through baking. The filling will puff up, and it should be wobbly in the middle and firm around the edges. Cool pie for at least an hour (I’d actually recommend longer; this pie was best at room temperature), and finish with a layer of sea salt; I found that one tablespoon was about right. Slice and serve with freshly whipped cream!

Pie Dough

By way of Apt. 2B Baking Co. and Brandi Henderson

Makes enough for two, but you’ll only need one for this recipe. Feel free to substitute in your favorite crust recipe instead!

12 ounces pastry flour

1/2 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt

8 ounces (two sticks) very cold butter

4 to 6 ounces ice water

1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

1.  On a clean counter, dump your flour and salt; mix it around with a bench scraper. Chop one stick of butter into quarters, and cut it into the four with your bench scraper. When butter is about the size of lima beans, cut in the second stick, pulling, folding, and tossing with the bench scraper as you go, until the butter is about the size of quarters. Add the vinegar to the ice water.

2. Using your fingers, flick the water onto the butter-flour mixture, gently folding with the bench scraper all the while. You have added enough water once the mixture holds together when squeezed; it should be very shaggy.

3. Next, push the butter into the flour. Using the heel of your palm, push a small section of the dough down and away from you; this creates long layers of butter in your dough, which translates to long flaky layers in your crust. Use your bench scraper to scrape up the smear, and put it a bowl. Repeat until all the dough has been smeared and you have a bowlful of long, buttery layers. Push these into one mass, divide in half, wrap each in plastic, flatten into disks, and chill at least two hours, or better yet overnight.

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.

Date and Brown Butter Tart with Bourbon Whipped Cream

It was surely some sight last week in the harbor of Belfast when four pajama-clad arms reached out from the cap of Emily’s 1988 Toyota Hilux pickup to unlatch the bed at 7:00 on a Monday morning. A group of young fisherman had been hollering about barnacles while the man behind the information desk arrived to raise the flag, and Emily and I hopped somewhat sheepishly and bedraggled to the cab of the truck so we could drive away for breakfast. I was expecting hoots and hollers or at least a “hello,” but the fisherdudes surveyed us only casually before we drove away.

That was the Monday after Maine’s thrity-sixth annual Common Ground Country Fair. Along with our farming compatriots, Emily—the new cheesemaking apprentice, as I am the new sort of junior cheesemaker—and I captained a few tables and sold cheese at the Maine Cheese Guild booth for all three days of the fair. The fair was some sight to behold—and behold is all we really did since there wasn’t much time to experience much beyond our booth—with farmers, businessowners, artists, and craftspeople from all over the state coming together to hock their wares and promote all the of stellar stuff that’s going on in Maine. I did manage to escape to a beginning beekeeping course, catch a few moments of clog dancing, and pet the cashmere goat kids who would soon be turned to pelts.

In any case, I made this tart several weeks ago and since then have had a serious baking confidence crisis, but working from dawn until beyond dusk has made sharing timely stories and baked goods more difficult. So, blog, say farewell to Arlene, who’s left for a job at Appleton Farm in Ipswich (!), say howdy to your new junior cheesemaker—me!—who is gracefully-ish bumbling through havarti and managing some cheeseplant mischief, and meet Emily, our new cheeseaking apprentice who is awesome. AND THIS TART. Brown butter, dates, crispy top, chewy insides; don’t sleep on it. It’s so easy and hugely delicious—it would be a real shame to pass this one up while you’re enjoying your own very busy-ass life!

Date and Brown Butter Tart

Adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques by Suzanne Goin, one of my favorites!

1 recipe tart dough or half of your favorite pie crust recipe
40 to 45 Deglet Noor dates, pitted
1/2 vanilla bean, or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
9 tablespoons salted butter
2 extra-large eggs
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
1 tablespoon raw or large-grain sugar

Bourbon Whipped Cream
1 cup whipping cream
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons bourbon, or to taste

1.  Prebake tart shell: Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Roll out your tart dough to a ten-inch circle and line an eight-inch tart pan with it. Prick the bottom all over with a fork and pop into the freezer for a half-hour. Once chilled, press a well-buttered sheet of foil to the dough and up the edges, and bake for 20 minutes. Remove foil and bake for another ten until crust is golden.

2.  Make tart: Reduce heat to 350 degrees F. Place dates about a half-inch apart in concentric circles on tart shell. Slice open vanilla bean and scrape out pulp onto butter. Run the knife through the butter to ensure that you don't lose any pulp. Heat a medium saute pan over medium heat for one minute. Add the butter and the vanilla bean pod to the pan, and cook for six to ten minutes until the butter browns and smells nutty. Discard the vanilla pod.

3. Whisk the eggs and two-thirds cup of granulated together in a bowl. Whisk in the flour and salt, and stir in the warm butter. Pour the batter over the dates in the tart shell. Sprinkle the single tablespoon of large-grain sugar over the top. Bake for 30 minutes until the filling puffs up, browns, and is set. Cool the tart for at least 20 minutes before serving.

4. Make whipped cream: Beat heavy cream with egg beaters or in a stand mixer on high until frothy. Add sugar and bourbon and continue whipping until soft peaks form, about five minutes. Serve!

Plum and Pine Nut Galette

The damson and black plums for this tart were piled high at the farmers’ market last weekend, along with a few green and red varieties and the bare beginnings of Maine’s apple season. While the start of summer drives me rather nuts with desperation about which juicy fruits to get my deprived hands on first, the fall transition has a lovely sort of ceremonious appeal--measured and familiar, instead of rushed. We’re expecting pears this weekend at the market, along with spinach, gourds, and more apples, and it’s that even rolling out of fall fruits that keeps me motivated to bake with produce before bourbon, custards, and creams totally take over for the winter.

This galette is a lovely end-of-summer ode. The fruit is beautiful and barely sweetened, and the pine nuts add a bit of savory depth and a toasty crunch. If you have a tart dough waiting in the wings already, then it comes together in just a few easy steps too, perfect for when the new, wonderful WWOOFer is distracting you with stories of Labrador or when Dave is laying the smackdown about dishes. And while it’s hot, hot, hot everywhere and folks are lamenting the use of the oven this time of year, it’s starting to cool off here and I’m a complete sucker for baking fruit to its juiciest peak anyway. For the next few weeks it’ll be a toss-up between plums and pears around here, but it’s a late summer dilemma that brings out some of my favorite kinds of baked goods.

Plum Pine Nut Galette

Adapted significantly from Gourmet (1999!)

For the Crust
From Apt. 2B Baking Co. and I Made That!

Makes enough for two, but you’ll only need one for this recipe. Feel free to substitute in your favorite crust recipe instead!

12 ounces pastry flour
1/2 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
8 ounces (two sticks) very cold butter
4 to 6 ounces ice water
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

1.  On a clean counter, dump your flour and salt; mix it around with a bench scraper. Chop one stick of butter into quarters, and cut it into the four with your bench scraper. When butter is about the size of lima beans, cut in the second stick, pulling, folding, and tossing with the bench scraper as you go, until the butter is about the size of quarters. Add the vinegar to the ice water.

2. Using your fingers, flick the water onto the butter-flour mixture, gently folding with the bench scraper all the while. You have added enough water once the mixture holds together when squeezed; it should be very shaggy.

3. Next, push the butter into the flour. Using the heel of your palm, push a small section of the dough down and away from you; this creates long layers of butter in your dough, which translates to long flaky layers in your crust. Use your bench scraper to scrape up the smear, and put it a bowl. Repeat until all the dough has been smeared and you have a bowlful of long, buttery layers. Push these into one mass, divide in half, wrap each in plastic, flatten into disks, and chill at least two hours, or better yet overnight.

For the Filling
2.5 pounds plums of your choosing
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1/4 cup toasted pine nuts
1/4 cup demerara sugar, divided
1 egg
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1 tablespoon butter, cut into small pieces
1.  Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Roll out your pie dough to a 14- or 15-inch circle. Trim the edges so they’re even, slide onto a piece of parchment paper on the back of a cookie sheet, and pop into the freezer while you prepare the rest of your ingredients. This cooling step will help you fold or pleat the dough more easily in a bit.

2.  Cut the plums into half-inch slices. I cut some of my plums into quarters and the bigger ones into sixths, so it just depends on your plum size. Set aside. In a food processor, grind the toasted pine nuts with the flour and just two tablespoons of the demerara sugar. Mixture should be finely ground, but not powdered.  

3.  Remove the dough round from the freezer and, leaving it on the back of the cookie sheet, spread ground nut mixture across the bottom, leaving a three-inch border. Starting at the outside edge of the ground nuts, arrange your plum slices into one, tightly fit ring with all the plums facing the same way. Make the inner ring, then the final third ring in the middle. If you have extra plum slices, go back and fill in any gaps or wider spaces. And if you’re using different plum varieties, try to alternate the varieties in every other slice or one variety per ring. Don’t worry if you can’t!

4.  Fold tart dough up and over the plums, pleating or pinching as you go, then put the whole thing into the freezer for at least one hour. This will help the dough keep its shape when it’s popped into the hot oven. Once the tart has fully chilled, brush the crust with your egg wash. Mix the remaining two tablespoons of demerara sugar with the cinnamon. Sprinkle a heavy layer of the sugar-cinnamon mixture across the crust, then sprinkle the remaining over the fruit itself. Brush any stray granules off the parchment so they don’t scorch in the oven. Dot the tart with butter and cover the tart very lightly with a sheet of foil, and bake for a total of 45 to 50 minutes until crust is dark golden brown and juices are bubbling. Remove the foil about halfway through baking so that the crust can color. Allow to cool for about 20 minutes, and serve.