Category: GF

The Antidote: Salted Caramel Chocolate Cake

(no caption needed, is there?)
(no caption needed, is there?)

You deserve to treat yourself to something sweet.

#TreatYoSelf

Maybe it’s a Wednesday and things are a little crappy. Like maybe your teenager is having a meltdown and so are you because she is leaving for France for a year and hormones.

Or maybe it’s about to be 114 degrees and this might be the last time the oven gets used for the next week. #GlobalWarmingYall

Or maybe the circus that is the Republican National Convention makes you feel like grabbing a little sugar high. Or Rocky Mountain High because, seriously, #WhatTheFuck?

Whatever your issue. Whatever is happening.

Make THIS.

This surely is not legal in some states. There is a pound of butter in the frosting, and more sugar than you probably have in your kitchen right now in the whole cake. It takes a couple hours to make, what with the three layers (which I had to make in two pans and then one because I only have two pans, but that’s what being flexible is all about) and the filling and crumb coat  (which I will always do from now on) and the cooling and then the final frosting.

In the words of my very lucky neighbor: “This is legit.”

#YoureWelcome

Salted Caramel Chocolate Cake

Note: Mad love to Baker By Nature from whom this recipe was adapted. I made changes to the flours, the levening agents, and added some coffee, but other than that, it’s genius all on its own. 

Ingredients

Cake:

2 cups granulated sugar
1 cup light brown sugar
2  3/4 cups gluten-free all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted
3/4 teaspoons baking soda
2 teaspoons baking powder
1  1/4 teaspoons salt
3 large eggs + 2 large egg yolks, at room temperature
1  1/2 cups full-fat sour cream

1/2 cup milk

3/4 cup vegetable oil
2 tablespoons vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups hot, strong brewed coffee (essential for deep chocolate flavor)

Salted caramel chocolate frosting:
2 cups unsalted butter (4 sticks, 16 ounces), completely soft
4 and 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons milk, half-n-half, or heavy cream (it seriously does not matter which)
2 tablespoons salted caramel sauce (I bought a jar of Smucker’s salted caramel sauce, but you could DIY)
Assembly:
1 and 1/4 cups salted caramel sauce (please see post for more on this)
Flaky sea salt

Method

Preheat oven to 350°(F).

Grease three 9-inch cakepans (or spray with cooking spray) and line bottom with rounds of parchment paper. Grease the rounds and set pans aside. As noted above, I had to bake two layers then bake the third due to lack of a third cake pan.

In a large bowl using a handheld electric mixer, combine both sugars, flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder and salt; mix on low until dry ingredients are thoroughly combined (or just whisk well to combine, breaking up large clumps).

In a separate bowl combine the eggs, egg yolks, sour cream, milk, oil, and vanilla extract; mix until completely combined.

Pour wet mixture into the dry ingredients and beat on low until just incorporated. Pour in hot coffee and continue mixing until completely combined (about one minute).

Divide batter evenly among prepared pans. Bang pan gently on counter to pop any bubbles that are forming.

Bake for 30 to 35 minutes (this depends on your oven, so start checking around the 30-minute mark).

Test with a wooden toothpick. Insert toothpick into the center of the cake. It should come out clean or with just a few crumbs attached.

Cool cakes on a cooling rack completely before frosting.

For the chocolate frosting:
In a stand mixer with the whisk attachment (or again using a hand mixer), cream the softened butter until completely smooth.

Turn the mixer off and sift the powdered sugar and cocoa into the mixing bowl. Use a spatula to gently stir in the chocolate/sugar mixture before turning the mixer back on or you will have a fine layer of chocolate/sugar dust coating all of the surfaces of your kitchen. #LearnFromExperience

Turn the mixer on the lowest speed and mix until the chocolate/sugar has been absorbed by the butter.

Increase mixer speed to medium; add in vanilla extract, salt, whatever dairy you are using, and salted caramel. Beat for three minutes. If your frosting appears a little too thin, add a little more confectioners’ sugar. If your frosting needs to be thinner, add more dairy, one tablespoon at a time.

Assembly:
If your cake does not have a lovely flat surface, you can use a serrated knife to trim whatever is sticking up, OR you can make the top the bottom. Place one layer on a large plate or cake stand. Spread a 1/4 to 1/2 cup of caramel on the layer, then 3/4 cup of frosting. Top with another cake layer, caramel, and 3/4 cup frosting. Place final cake layer on top.

At this point, if your cake is listing due to the slippery nature of caramel, inserting dowels into the cake can help. Hopefully the frosting with help keep things stable.

If you are using a crumb coat, do that now.

Chill cake in the ‘fridge for one hour, then remove to finish the frosting. Sprinkle with best-quality sea salt.

Keeps in the ‘fridge for five days. It won’t last that long, but that’s the theory anyway.

On Words, Love, And The (Im)Perfect Crabcake

(Im)perfectly delicious, hon.
(Im)perfectly delicious, hon.

So I have been avoiding words. Words like these ones right here.

And yes, I am aware that I just used the phrase “these ones.” #IBlameTheSouth

I don’t know what it is about words. I find them alternately an abiding comfort and a deep frustration. I have hurled them as invective, used them like a lover’s caress, and felt them/rolled them around in my mouth, through my heart, and on the page.

But sometimes of late words have [quite literally] failed me. I have said the wrong thing at the wrong time in the wrong way.

I have received hurtful words from someone I love, most recently unintentionally (but intentionally in the past).

Sidebar: They both feel bad.

It’s enough to make me clam up altogether, which I am getting especially good at. Seems easier to say nothing than to say something I don’t mean or that will leave a lasting wound.

And then a few weeks ago I ran across this from Thich Nhat Hanh, the Fourth Mindfulness Training Guide:

“I am committed to speaking truthfully using words that inspire confidence, joy, and hope. When anger is manifesting in me, I am determined not to speak. I will practice mindful breathing and walking in order to recognize and to look deeply into my anger. I know that the roots of anger can be found in my wrong perceptions and lack of understanding of the suffering in myself and in the other person. I will speak and listen in a way that can help myself and the other person to transform suffering and see the way out of difficult situations.”

The idea is to monitor yourself and your words so that they are not harmful or rooted in anger or misunderstanding that will make things worse.

In short, “Seek first to understand, then be understood.”

Excellent idea.

Except we are all of us only human beings, yes? And as I like to [gratefully] acknowledge, this is a practice, not a perfect. I am still at the grasshopper stage, keeping my mouth shut and walking away.

But this is patently unhelpful in some situations where silence would only serve to deepen the rift or misunderstanding or hurt others, especially those who have had silence wielded like a sword in their past.

Which brings me to my recent connection of wabi-sabi as it pertains to humans. My particular friend lent me a book recently called Wabi-Sabi For Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers. Wabi-sabi is the Japanese philosophy/practice/way of life focused on accepting and celebrating the beauty of impermanence and imperfection in everything. That’s a thumbnail, but it gets to the root in a nutshell.

Richard Powell sums it up as this:

“Wabi-sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.”

Certainly true for the wabi-sabi qualities in humans, human communication, and human relationships.

The trick here is to determine if you are willing to do the work anyway, to acknowledge the impermanence and imperfection and love (accept) all of that anyway.

According to Wabi-Sabi for Artists,

“The simplicity of wabi-sabi is probably described as the state of grace arrived at by a sober, modest, heartfelt intelligence.”

This is a far cry from the passionate, loud, and impulsive words being hurled around of late, in my house and in the rest of the world. Wabi-sabi requires more contemplation and reflection and acceptance, but the last is hard to come by. It seems that acceptance is the thing that allows the words or the art or the love to flow.

I have lost many words of late. I don’t know if that’s a reflection of my lack of acceptance, but it is certainly highlighting my imperfection. Wabi-sabi is the fine line between something starting and ending, that moment when there is a shift. Maybe that’s what is happening.

So what’s with the crabcakes? How is this wabi-sabi?

Well, to start, crabs don’t give a fuck about decay and imperfection; they are one of the few bottom feeders that I will actually eat, mopping up whatever’s rotten on the bottom of the Bay.

They accept whatever is lowered into the depths at the end of a piece of cotton twine. Throw a ripe chicken neck off a dock and you will invariably hoist a few crabs from the murky depths.

In this pairing, they are also a continuation of experimentation in my kitchen, which is a good thing, and they represent a foundational element in my life. I grew up in Maryland, crabbing off the docks at Assateague as a child and picking crabs in someone’s backyard at least once a summer every year. When I am feeling at loose ends, it is a great comfort to me to come back to these touchstones in my life when I can reliably remember feeling at peace and without struggle.

So along with these words, here is some food for you.

Maryland Crabcakes With Green Papaya, Carrot, and Jicama Slaw

With Pineapple Vinaigrette

Ingredients

Crabcake

2 tsp. Old Bay

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

1 T Dijon mustard

2 slices bread without crusts, torn into bits

1 T mayonnaise

1 egg

Optional: 1/2 tsp Worchestershire (I am not convinced, but many would say this is essential.)

1 pound jumbo lump crab

Green Papaya, Jicama, and Carrot Slaw

1/2 cup green papaya, shredded

1/2 cup  jicama, shredded

1/4 cup carrots, shredded

1 large jalapeno,  finely sliced (keep some seeds for heat)

a handful of fresh pineapple, julienned

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

juice of one lime

1 oz.  pineapple vinegar (recipe below)

2 oz.  vegetable oil (or other light oil)

1/4 tsp. ground cumin

small garlic clove, finely minced

1/2 tsp. celery seed

salt and pepper to taste

Method:

Crabcakes

Combine Old Bay, parsley, mustard, bread, mayonnaise, egg, and Worchestershire (if using) in a large bowl. Stir well to combine.

Add crabmeat and mix with your hands very, very gently. You want the crab to stay in big, fat, delicious chunks, barely held together.

Form into something resembling a cross between a meatball and a patty. For ease, I greased ramekins and packed the meat in there. Place in ‘fridge for 30 minutes while you make the slaw.

Heat a generous amount of butter (couple tablespoons) in a heavy frying pan. Place crabcakes gently in pan and fry until they have a nice crust and are warmed all the way through (about four minutes to a side.

Move to paper towels until serving.

Slaw

Combine the first six ingredients (green papaya, jicama, carrot, jalapeno, pineapple, parsley) in a medium bowl and squeeze the juice of one lime to coat the veg. In a small bowl, whisk together the last five ingredients (vinegar, oil, cumin, garlic, celery). Pour over vegetables and herbs, then season with salt and pepper.

Pineapple vinegar

In a saucepan, combine 8 oz. white vinegar, 8 oz. of fresh pineapple, and 1 tsp. of sugar. Bring to a rolling boil, mashing the pineapple a bit as it boils. Remove from heat and let cool, then strain to remove solids and place in ‘fridge.

Recipe notes

  • I used GF bread, but white bread is traditional, or Saltine crackers. If using Saltines, use about eight crackers.
  • JM Clayton crabmeat is the way to go if you are buying it. If you aren’t going to pick it yourself, don’t fuck around with crappy crabmeat in a can. This is an expensive recipe, to be sure, so save your money if you need to, but do it right. Or, do what I did and eat rice for a week for dinner so you can afford to test the recipe. #LifesFullOfTradeOffs
  • Fresh peaches make delicious vinegar as well. Swap the white vinegar for white balsamic and sub peeled, chopped peaches for the pineapple and proceed as above. Much more delicate flavor.
  • Turns out, I hate cabbage and cabbage hates me, so that’s why none is present. If cabbage loves you and vice versa feel free to add it in.
  • If you cannot find green papaya at your local Asian grocery store, feel free to use cabbage instead. It will change the flavors a bit, but using a lighter-flavored cabbage like Napa cabbage should keep things balanced.

Of Love, Grief, And Nanaimo Bars

Kevin Allen in his natural habitat.
Kevin Allen in his natural habitat.

I am familiar with loss.

Loss is wordless and powerful, difficult to describe, hard to imagine until it happens to you, and even then each loss is different.

Today, three years ago, my friend Kerry lost her older brother, Kevin. It was an accident, like these things usually are when someone dies young, and the shock of it is still often very present. Kevin was full of life, kind, loved his dog and his friends. He and Kerry were friends, maybe not always on the same plane at times, but their bond was deep.

The entire Allen family – Kerry, Kevin, and their parents, Jim and Nancy – were close. They were my second family, even if they didn’t really know it. I have known them for my entire life, practically, 35+ years, across the continent, through the birth of babies, marriages, and now, through loss.

It seems fitting today to post an offering, a tiny little absurd remembrance to Kevin that doesn’t encompass at all the love that the Allens have for each other and the hole of grief that they are still knitting together. Other than Jim smoking cigars in the garage, banished by Nancy, and Kevin’s somewhat mysterious older brother mystique (to me, anyway, who was pretty hapless around the opposite gender anyway), one of the things I remember most is Nancy’s Nanaimo (nahnny moe) bars.

Nanaimo bars are a wonderful combination of chocolate and nuts and coconut and cream cheese that melts in the mouth. I have thought about them often across the years but have never had them anywhere but in Nancy Allen’s kitchen. I am privileged to have received the recipe from her in April (via Kerry) for inclusion in the cookbook.

With loving remembrance of Kevin and forever gratitude for the shelter (mental, physical, emotional, and otherwise) that the Allens offered me over the years, I have made these today. Kerry gets a bunch on her counter, and the rest I will spread around like love.

Nancy Allen’s Nanaimo Bars

Note: You may be tempted to change some of these amounts. Resist the urge. Yes, two tablespoons of pudding mix is inconvenient, but so what? It’s worth it.

Ingredients

Crumb crust

¼ cup sugar

¼ cup unsweetened cocoa

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 egg

1 ½ cups (6 oz) graham cracker cookie crumbs (I use Schar gluten free graham crackers to make crumbs, the best I have ever had, among their other products)

¾ cups (2 oz) flaked coconut

½ cup chopped pecans

Cream filling

½ cup butter, softened

3 oz. cream cheese, softened

2 T instant vanilla pudding

1 cup confectioner’s sugar

2 T milk

Chocolate glaze

4 squares (1 ounce each) semisweet chocolate

1 T butter

Method

Grease 9” square pan and set aside.

In a saucepan, combine the first four ingredients for the crumb crust and cook over low heat, stirring constantly until mixture coats the spoon. Stir in graham cracker crumbs, coconut, and pecans. Spoon into prepared pan and press into an even layer.

For the filling, beat together butter, cream cheese, and pudding mix. Beat in confectioner’s sugar and milk. Spread over graham cracker crust. Refrigerate 30 minutes or until firm.

For the glaze, melt chocolate and butter together. Spread over pudding layer. Refrigerate again until chocolate is firm.

Taking The Day Off…With Cake

Cake
#Proper. Cake is the only remedy for busy.

What’s that you say? How could I possibly be taking the day off when I have not published a recipe since April 1st?

Well, friends, there is a reason for that.

I wrote a book. A whole book, with 80+ recipes and essays, in 30 days.

I write a lot in general about motivation and procrastination. This is very real to me, as the keeper of my own schedule and boss of me. So when I need to get something done, I set myself a close deadline and make the task huge.

This is often why I throw a party at least once or twice a year. It makes me clean the house at least once or twice a year. Sort of like going to the dentist every six months. When my dentist asks me how often I floss, I tell him, “At least twice a year.”

But I digress.

This book writing in 30 days is a spin-off on National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo, to use the vernacular), which occurs every November, the other 30-day month. As I write execrable fiction, I decided that April would become NaNoFiWriMo: National Non-Fiction Writing Month. This is how I wrote my first book, and since it worked out so well, I thought I’d try it again.

Plus, last year I published a list of writing goals and didn’t meet them. This was a little bit of a punishment for myself.

So I told my kid, my therapist, and another freelancing friend, and off I went.

40,028 words later, I am done. It’s rough as hell, and I don’t know exactly what I am going to do with it.

But the food is fucking incredible, if I do say so myself. Some recipes from this blog, some new stuff, some family recipes or recipes from friends (I’m looking at you, Nancy Allen and Bonnie King!!). I am pleased that it’s done and ready to cook. I took a week off from thinking about it, sending it off to a writing friend to look through it before I make any substantial edits.

But I cannot seem to stay away from it.

I find myself clicking on a recipe here or there, tweaking formats and finding typos.

I have started homemade kimchi for kimchi fries, and as I write this a cake from the book (sort of) is cooling on the counter, waiting for chocolate mousse filling and marshmallow frosting.

If you have nothing to do this rainy, rainy weekend, and the world of bullshit politics is making you want to poke your eye out with a spoon, take a step back and make this cake first. You may be able to face the world again.

Best White Cake With Chocolate Mousse Filling And Marshmallow Frosting

Ingredients

350 grams (about 2 1/2 c.) gluten-free all-purpose flour mix (or cake flour if gluten isn’t an issue)

1 T. baking powder

1/4 t. salt

1/2 c. butter (one stick), softened

1 t. vanilla extract

330 grams (about 1 1/2 c.) sugar

2 eggs

1 c. milk

Chocolate mousse filling (recipe below)

Marshmallow frosting (recipe below)

Method

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Prepare pan: butter bottom of  two 9-inch cake pans, line with parchment circle, butter the entire pan and dust with flour. If you skimp on this step, your cake will stick and all your hard work will be for naught.

In a small bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, and salt.

In the bowl of a stand mixer (or a large bowl with hand mixer), cream butter with sugar and vanilla extract. Beat in eggs, one at a time, until smooth. Add dry ingredients and milk, starting and ending with dry (flour, milk, flour, milk, flour).

Pour approximately 1/2″ of batter into each pan. Bake until a toothpick comes out clean (test on the sides and in the middle until it hits the cheesecake crust), between 30 and 40 minutes. While the cake is baking, make your chocolate mousse filling (recipe below).

Cool in the pan for ten minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely. You can cool on the rack in the ‘fridge. While it’s cooling, start on the marshmallow frosting.

Chocolate Mousse Filling

Ingredients

8 ounces semisweet chocolate, melted

2 1/2 cups heavy whipping cream

2 T sugar

Method

Melt chocolate over a double boiler or in the microwave (careful not to burn). Cool.

In a large, clean bowl with chilled beaters, whip the cream until it stands in soft peaks. Add sugar and continue to whip until it stands in firm peaks.

Add 1/4 of the whipped cream to the melted chocolate and whisk to combine. Add the chocolate mixture to the remaining whipped cream and fold with a spatula until fully combine. Refrigerate until ready to use.

Marshmallow Frosting

Ingredients

250 grams (approximately 2 c) powdered sugar

1/4 t. cream of tartar

2 t. light corn syrup

2 egg whites

1/4 c. water

1 t. vanilla extract

Method

Combine ingredients in a metal bowl and whisk to combine. Place metal bowl over a saucepan of simmering water and beat with a hand mixer on medium until the mixture begins to thicken (like marshmallow Fluff). Continue to beat on high until mixture stiffens (stiff peaks). This whole process takes 10-15 minutes.

Remove from heat and continue to beat the frosting until it is completely cool.

Assembly

A cake stand (thanks, Kerry!!!) and an offset spatula make life a lot easier here. Fill cake with a generous amount of mousse, then frosting with marshmallow frosting. Then eat A TON while you take a break from whatever big project has been making you busier than you perhaps ought to be.

Sophie’s Choice: Strawberry Bread Pudding

Really, the only decision you need to make today.
Really, the only decision you need to make today.

The start of things is always challenging.

Especially when the thing you are starting is somewhat of a secret, kept that way so it can be a big surprise when it’s all done.

But it starts today, no foolin’, and already I am stuck.

Anyone who reads even a blog or two of mine knows that motivation and I have not always walked well together.

This reminds me of the story about Jesus walking with someone on the beach (two sets of footprints) and when times got tough there was only one set of footprints because Jesus was carrying the person. This story makes me a little nauseous (and only a little nauseous because I would like to have a long conversation with Jesus, for real, not praying, like hang out with the man and say what the fuck, Jesus.), but it would be super awesome if motivation would just swoop down and cradle me in loving arms.

Motivation for me is more like a sharp, pointy stick. Or a cattle prod. And that’s no day at the beach.

Especially perceptive people who have read even a blog or two of mine might even recognize that this here blog post itself is really just a clever avoidance tactic. Or maybe not so clever.

Regardless. Here we are. At an impasse.

Sometimes, as right now with The Secret Thing, the issue is just too many choices.

I could literally go in 100 different directions with This Secret Thing, but if I commit to one, 99 of them fall away and become impossible.

And I am on a deadline, so I have basically this weekend to commit.

And anyone who knows me well knows that commitment and I are also not always walking together on the beach either. And commitment is too fucking lazy to pick me up. And super heavy for me, even with all of the yoga.

The answer to this is very, very simple: off to market.

Not only does this allow me to procrastinate, but it also gives me a great excuse to check out the new MOM’s that opened up this very morning in The Rotunda in Hampden. It was, as expected, a madhouse, so much so that any designs of leisurely strolling the aisles looking for inspiration fell away when the doors opened.

The samples. And the fresh mozzarella. And Greek yogurt. And bulk section. And the sheer number of people who really should all be at work and not shopping right now so that I can have the store to myself. #OtherPeopleRuinEverything

But THE STRAWBERRIES.

If we were still in Georgia, I would have already been harvesting the first tender shoots of asparagus and small, juicy strawberries, but here in Maryland not much is coming out of the ground beyond greens and brassicas, and even then only for really good garden planners.

These strawberries weren’t local, but they were organic and sweet and deep, ruby red and sexy as hell.

And on sale.

I bought two clamshells, planning something with the aforementioned Greek yogurt (so thick like vanilla-scented crème fraiche) but then came home to other choices.

Quickly staled gluten-free bread, optimistically baked a couple days ago and not consumed. Four egg yolks leftover from the bread’s mother, also still quietly growing delicious in the ‘fridge. Vanilla beans to spare. Almond milk, bought for another purpose and then forgotten, but still good and unopened.

Sophie’s choice: strawberry bread pudding. Christ on a bike, this was good. The perfect bridge between the sunny, spring-like weather of this morning and the 30-degree temps and flurries forecast for Sunday night. Dollop of the Greek yogurt on top.

Perfect for ignoring the other choices I am avoiding. You’re welcome.

Strawberry Bread Pudding

Hey, man. This is totally unfussy. I am putting amounts here, but really, go with what you have. Leave the strawberries out, or add chocolate chips and a touch of cinnamon. Or maybe dried fruit. Or no fruit. Or whatever. Regular milk. Less sugar. Two eggs instead of just yolks. Whatever. No real choices need to be made until you are damn good and ready.

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups milk (cow, almond, soy. Whatever. Whole milk is the more reliable choice, to be sure, but don’t let dairy hold you back.)

1/3 cup sugar (or more. Or less.)

1 vanilla bean, scraped (or 2 teaspoons of vanilla extract)

pinch of salt (or 1 teaspoon if you like to measure)

2 T. butter

2 eggs (or 4 egg yolks if that’s what you have in the ‘fridge)

one leftover loaf of gluten-free bread, cubed into maybe 3 cups (or stale, gluten-filled french bread, brioche, challah, or….)

1 cup chopped strawberries (or a handful of chips, or nothing)

Method

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and butter a ceramic baking dish big enough for your bread and berries. Set aside.

Heat milk, sugar, vanilla bean scraping, salt, and butter until the butter is just melted. Cool if you have that kind of patience, or, if not, slowly, slowly, slowly – whisking constantly – drizzle the hot milk into the eggs in a large bowl. If you do it too fast, you will have vanilla-flavored scrambled eggs. Drizzle slowly, slower than you think, while whisking frantically.

Place bread and strawberries in the buttered dish (I used a high-sided white ceramic baking dish). Pour milk-egg mixture over the bread, soaking thoroughly.

Allow the bread to sit in this mixture for 30 minutes in the ‘fridge. Longer, if you like. This is to soak up some of the liquid so the custard does not “break” (scramble the eggs) in the heat of the oven.

Bake for 30-45 minutes (seriously. Big range), until the custard is just a little tiny bit wobbly (but not raw. GROSS). For more gentle cooking, cook the pudding in a bain marie.

Again, cool slightly if you can, or grab a spoon and eat IMMEDIATELY with unsweetened whipped cream, crème fraiche, or super thick Greek yogurt.