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!

Rustic Rhubarb Tarts

Two weeks ago, I took my first foray down to Wolf Trap National Park in Virginia to see Prairie Home Companion (and Gillian Welch!) with some near and dear friends. While I've only been to a handful of outdoor performance spaces (and never to The Gorge), I can say with some confidence that Wolf Trap is remarkable, especially when it's blazing sunshine and you've just come from an indoor picnic and possibly maybe a beer-chugging session. We watched the radio show (what a concept!) in the Filene Center, which is ten stories of dizzying carpentry set in the middle of an expanse of lawn for picnickers.  Our troupe had planned to picnic along with everyone else, but when thunderstorms (that never materialized) threatened to close in, we relocated to Tory and Joey's house to potluck, drink (Dogfish Head Immort Ale), and of course, eat dessert.

My obsession with Kim Boyce's new cookbook still hasn't relented, so when I finally got to the farmers market early enough to pick and choose my produce, her corn flour rhubarb tarts became the obvious choice for a Saturday baking endeavor.  While I've managed to acquire some obscure flours for her recipes, I still can't find the dried hibiscus flowers this one calls for, so I altered the rhubarb compote and made it with strawberries instead. Call me boring, but this dessert is anything but, and while the free-form pastry dough can be slightly troubling on a sweltering day, this is still a simple, beautiful, spring or summer tart.

Rustic (Strawberry) Rhubarb Tarts

Adapted from Kim Boyce's Good to the Grain:  Baking with Whole-Grain Flours

Her full recipe makes ten tarts.  I made the full pastry recipe, but only made six tarts, and cut the compote recipe in half because I didn't purchase enough rhubarb.  From the leftover pastry, I made ten thumbprint cookies dolloped with the remaining compote.  The tarts cook for 35 minutes, and  my cookies were finished after 18.  You can follow what I did, or scale back the pastry by half, or better yet, pick up a copy of Kim's book and get her original recipe. 

For the pastry (full recipe)

1 cup corn flour (I used Bob's Red Mill)

1 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 cup fine cornmeal 

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1 teaspoon Kosher salt

1 stick (four ounces) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons heavy cream

2 egg yolks

1.  Combine dry ingredients in a food processor.  Add the butter and process in short pulses, until mixture resembles coarse corn meal.  Add the heavy cream and egg yolks, and pulse until combined.  Don't overmix here; the dough will look crumbly, but it will come together when kneaded.  You can also do this all by hand, just by rubbing the butter into the flour with your fingertips until it reaches that same corn meal consistency.

2.  Divide the dough into ten equal pieces.  Lightly flour a work surface and, using the heel of your hand, flatten a piece of dough into a rough circle.  Continue flattening until it's approximately five inches in diameter (or, I found, even a little larger).  Try to work quickly so that the dough doesn't get too soft.  For a more elegant edge, Boyce recommends flattening the outer edge with your fingertips, making it thinner than the rest.

3.  Spoon three tablespoons of the strawberry rhubarb compote (recipe below) into the center of the dough (Boyce calls for four tablespoons, but based on advice from SmittenKitchen and my own observations, I went with three).  Fold the dough into the center of the tart and up, to make a ruffled edge; continue all the way around until you've achieved your rustic aesthetic. Slide a bench scraper or metal spatula under the pastry and place on a parchment-covered cookie sheet.  Continue with the rest of the dough.  Freeze the tarts for at least an hour, or up to two weeks if wrapped tightly in plastic.

4.  In an oven preheated to 375 degrees Fahrenheit, bake the tarts, still frozen, for about 35 minutes or until the edges are golden and the compote is bubbling and thick.  Serve warm or at room temperature.  The tarts keep in an airtight container for up to two days (but they probably won't last that long). 

For the Strawberry Rhubarb Compote (half recipe)

Again, Boyce makes Rhubarb Hibiscus compote. I'm still trying to get my hands on some hibiscus flowers, which I bet are fully excellent (Lottie and Doof says so too).

1 pound strawberries, rinsed and hulled

1 pound rhubarb stalks, de-leafed

3/4 cup dark brown sugar, packed 

1 teaspoon fresh lemon zest + 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1.  Rinse rhubarb stalks and trim very ends.  Cut in half lengthwise and cut stalks on the diagonal into 3/4-inch pieces (You should have about 3 cups).   Cut the strawberries lengthwise into quarters (You should have about 3 cups).

2.  Leaving three-quarters cup of the rhubarb aside, combine rhubarb and brown sugar in a heavy-bottomed pot.  Add the sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest, and turn the heat to medium low.  Cook, covered, for 15 minutes until the rhubarb has released its juices and your kitchen smells awesome.  Add the strawberries, increase heat to medium, and cook, uncovered now, for another 15 to 20 minutes, or until the compote is fairly thick and a metal spoon leaves a trail at the bottom of the pan.  Watch the mixture closely so it doesn't burn.

3.  Remove from heat, toss in the remaining rhubarb.  Spread compote on a cold plate or baking pan and allow to cool and thicken for about a half hour, then proceed with filling the tarts. Remaining compote keeps covered in the fridge for about a week, and is awesome mixed into yogurt, ricotta, or on toast. 

Whole-Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookies

I just arrived home in the District, fresh from a four-day seafood, BBQ, Fat Tire, and sunshine bender in Savannah, where Joey (time to give him some photo love) and I celebrated a birthday, food-laden and Southern style.  This means truffled macaroni and cheese, shrimp and grits, red rice, oodles of okra, tuna steak sandwiches, sweet tea galore, mashed sweet potatoes, wonderful coffee, and pretty wonderful people too.  A park every other block and ornateness that transfixes for hours, well when we weren't stuffing ourselves, swimming, bicycling, or (let's be honest) drinking, we were usually just walking around staring at the people and the houses. I think we both started to feel at home our last day there, which was an encouraging shame since we loved it (so quickly!) but had to leave (so soon!), and also a testament to how easily the city's charm and grit can really hook you.

Well and so then there are these cookies.  They have nothing to do with Savannah except that I made them right before we left and haven't stopped thinking about them either, so I guess they share bewitchment over the mind of a capricious 24-year-old.  I might even like these better than the all-famous Leite/New York Times recipe. The whole-wheat flour adds the best nutty flavor, and these are so shamefully buttery and perfectly salty--the texture is outstanding. I also cannot profess my love enough for the book from whence this recipe came, which has expanded my list of obsessions by eight new flours. Those plus a few cities in the South, and I'd say I have my daydreams all sorted out.

Whole-Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookies

Adapted from Kim Boyce's Good to the Grain: Baking with Whole-Grain Flours

I halved the recipe and also halved the size of my cookies (from three tablespoons of dough to 1 1/2 tablespoons).  As you can see, they're plenty big that way.  I've included Kim's original amounts below, but a halved batch with smaller cookies yielded exactly 30.

3 cups whole-wheat flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 1/2 teaspoons salt (I used sea salt)

2 sticks unsalted butter, cold, cut into half-inch pieces

1 cup dark brown sugar, packed

1 cup granulated white sugar

2 large eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla extract

8 ounces high-quality bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped into quarter- and half-inch pieces

1.  Position racks in lower and upper thirds of oven.  Preheat to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.  Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

2.  Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt into a medium bowl.  Add any leftover grains that remain from the sifting.

3.  Combine the butter and sugars in a large bowl, beating on low speed with an electric mixer for two minutes, or until just blended.  Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing to incorporate after each addition, then add the vanilla.  Then, add the flour mixture until barely combined.  Scrape sides and bottom of bowl using a rubber spatula.  Add the chocolate using the rubber spatula, and make sure it's evenly distributed.  Make sure all of the flour mixture is incorporated by using your hands to blend in any visible dry ingredients (Boyce asks you to do this on a lightly floured surface, but I found it worked great to just do this in the bowl).

4.  Scoop three-tablespoon mounds of dough (I did 1 1/2-tablespoon mounds) onto your prepared baking sheets, spacing them three inches apart.  Bake for eight to ten minutes, then rotate sheets from top to bottom and front to back, and bake for an additional eight to ten minutes, until evenly browned (I baked my cookies for 13 minutes total, since they were smaller).  Remove to wire racks and let cool.  Mine kept for three days, covered. 

Espresso Chocolate Shortbread Cookies and Radio CPR Record Sale

A little more than a year ago, I was lamenting the District (I was so misguided!) while proffering the Radio CPR Record Sale as a rare form of social recourse (I was so correct!), and this year the radical ladies (one in particular) who power the station were kind enough to let me contribute to the sale again.  Two veteran baked goods soldiers continued their history of wowing, but this year I also offered a new recipe of vegan granola bars with a plethora of nuts and sticky things keeping 'em together and some espresso chocolate shortbread cookies that are like a double shot of caffeine and awesome straight to your heart.

And really, the heart doctor business must be booming.  The past three weeks might have limped along on the chronicling front here, but there's butter/batter a'beating in my kitchen nearly every day. In spite of jam-packed days and a few spectacular failures, I've emerged from my sweltering kitchen armed with a handful of buttery, awesome recipes to share.  These espresso chocolate shortbread cookies are numero uno, and if you live and die for butter and coffee (me too!), you very much must make them. 

Espresso Chocolate Shortbread Cookies

Adapted from Dorie Greenspan who says they make 32, but my method (madness?) made only 18

1 tablespoon instant espresso power

1 tablespoon boiling water

2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature

2/3 cup powdered sugar

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate (I guesstimated from a Ghiradelli bag and probably used closer to 5 ounces), finely chopped

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 cups all-purpose flour

1/4 teaspoon salt (Kari addition)

Additional powdered sugar for dusting, if you like

1.  Dissolve the espresso in the boiling water and set aside to cool to room temperature. 

2.  In a large bowl, beat the butter and powdered sugar together on medium high for about three minutes, until very smooth and somewhat pale. Beat in the vanilla and espresso, then reduce the speed to low and add the flour and salt, mixing only just until the flour disappears into the dough. Do not overwork the mixture. Fold in the chopped chocolate with a rubber spatula.

3.  Scoop the dough into a gallon-sized zipper-lock plastic bag. Using a rolling pin, roll the dough into a 9" x 10 1/2" rectangle that's 1/4" thick -- your rectangle should take up about half the bag.  Make sure the dough has even thickness throughout, seal, and the pop it flat into the fridge for at least two hours and up to two days.

4.  Position the racks to divide the oven in thirds and preheat to 325 degrees Fahrenheit. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Remove the dough from the fridge, cut the plastic bag away, and, using a ruler to guide you, slice the dough in 1 1/2" squares. Space the cookie squares one inch apart on the sheets, and then make two sets of fork marks in each cookie, gently pressing the tines all the way through the dough until they hit they sheet.  Careful not to crumble the cookies when you do this step.

5.  Bake for 18 to 20 minutes, rotating pans and switching from top to bottom halfway through. The cookies will not take on much color.  Remove from cookie sheets once you pull them from the oven, and allow to cool completely on racks. Dust with powdered sugar if you like. The cookies seem to get better with a day of rest, stored in an airtight container.

Best Peanut Butter Cookie Quest: Part One

You may have noticed that I'm capricious and that I get really "into" things for brief periods of time.  Awhile ago it was sewing.  Then photography.  Bikes for quite some time, but never long enough to hone any lasting expertise.  At one point it was the South, and this week it's Twitter, secret cafes, and Rickshaws.  I'm gearing up to be real into camping and web design, but in the meantime, I'm still all about baking—possibly my longest-running hobby—and therefore I have decided, as much as a noncommittal kid can, to undertake a quest for my personal favorite peanut butter cookie of all time.  Did I mention that the quest is going to be totally delicious?  Oh yes, absolutely yes.

This one here used to be my all-time favorite, but this time around I found the peanut butter flavor wasn't pronounced enough, partially because I think there might be too much butter, but also because the chocolate overpowered the peanut butter chips.  This is a peanut butter cookie recipe for a chocolate-lover, which I am, but which preference I will forego in favor of something more sincerely peanut buttery.  Stay posted:  If I don't suddenly decide to take up furniture design, I think constant baking energy could do us some sweet, sweet wonders.

Peanut Butter Cookies (makes 50 to 60 small cookies)

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen

1 1/4 cup all-purpose flour

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened

1 cup peanut butter (I used hand-milled chunky, but apparently the fake shit works best)

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup light brown sugar, firmly packed

1 large egg at room temperature

1 tablespoon milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 cup peanut butter chips (I'd up to 3/4)

1/2 cup semi-sweet chips (I'd decrease to 1/4)

1.  Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

2.  In a small bowl, mix flour baking soda, baking powder, and salt.  Set aside.  In a large bowl, beat together butter and peanut butter on medium-high until light and fluffy, two to three minutes.  Add in sugars and beat until smooth.  Add egg and mix well.  Add milk and vanilla, and a little bit at a time, beat in flour mixture.  Using a rubber spatula or wooden spoon, mix in all of the chips.

3.  Put a couple tablespoons of sprinkling sugar on a plate, and by rounded teaspoonfulls, drop balls of cookie dough onto the sugar and roll them around until covered.  Place the balls onto your cookie sheets (mine were bare, but parchment paper never hurts), press down lightly with a fork, and toss 'em in the oven for ten to 12 minutes.  Do not overbake.  Leave cookies on sheets for one minute only, then remove to a cooling rack to let cool completely.  These are awesome after they've been sitting for about an hour, eaten in groups of five or six.