Sourdough Surprises March 2013: Cake!

It was funny that cake was the sourdough theme of the month for the Sourdough Surprises baking group.  Just before the announcement,  my Facebook friend (and all-around good, real food maven) Holly was talking about some amazing changes she made to a chocolate sourdough cake.  It took me a few days to realize that the reason her cake looked so good and so familiar was because I had already made it - and changed it with similar results!  I've said it before but it's true that it is a good thing that I have this space to write things down or I'd never remember half of what I've made.

The sourdough cake that we both loved was this one from King Arthur Flour.  I had played around with it quite a bit (apparently, that was a year ago already), and then in my quest for not eating as much dessert, I let it go for too long a time.  As Holly did, I had cut the sugar in half, but in my experiments this month, I used a different hydration sourdough starter - and both coconut and olive oils for the fat.  The result was a moister version of that butter cake I made a year ago, and one that was not really high in sugar.  Not counting the frosting, and allowing for 9 large slices in a 8x8 glass pan, I figure it around a tablespoon per serving.

I've been in full swing with Ken Forkish's breads - all of them turning out stellar, and I may be hooked on the 80% hydration starter that he calls for.  I'm still figuring out the best feeding schedule for both my baking and waste reduction, but meanwhile, I'm turning 80% starter into all of my old favorites:  crackers, cake and pancakes all turning out better than with my 100% liquid levain.  The only thing I forgot about making this cake is that it takes some serious arm power (and lack of concern for gluten toughening) to incorporate the starter into a homogenized looking batter.  

Don't be afraid to beat this cake until you are certain you have overbeaaten it, otherwise you may have traces of white sourdough bits in your chocolate cake, which you can't really taste, but they aren't as pretty.  And a stand mixer might work, but avoid using a hand mixer... I learned the hard way that the batter tends to climb up the beaters and generally make a huge mess of things.

Chocolate Sourdough Cake (adapted from King Arthur Flour, with regard to Holly Langenburg, and my previous chocolate sourdough cake post)

makes one 8x8 inch cake

• 1/2 c. well-fed 80% sourdough starter (about 150 g.)
• 1/2 c. milk
• 1 c. AP flour

• 1/4 c. melted coconut oil
• 1/4 c. olive oil
• scant 1/2 c. sugar
• 1/2 t. salt
• 1 t. vanilla
• 6 heaping T. cocoa powder (natural process)
• 3/4 t. baking soda
• 1 egg

Combine starter, milk and flour in a mixing bowl and let ferment. (KAF says at least 3 hours, I ferment at least 8, and this particular cake fermented for 16.  It's okay to leave it at room temperature during this fermentation time.) After ferment time, proceed:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a good sized bowl, mix the oils, sugar, and salt together well.  Add the vanilla, cocoa powder, baking soda, and egg, and mix thoroughly.

Add the sourdough/milk/flour ferment to the chocolate-butter mixture. I found it easiest to use a sturdy spatula to mix the two - be firm but not vigorous and also be patient. Stir to combine until very few streaks of sourdough remain, and the batter looks like batter. It's sticky stuff!

Pour into a greased 8x8 glass baking dish, and use a metal knife or spatula dipped in water to spread batter evenly in the pan. The cake does "dome" a little, so you can try to push a bit more batter into the corners than into the center if this matters to you. Bake for 30-35 minutes until a tester in the center comes out clean.

You can use whatever frosting you like to top it after it cools completely - I just went with a simple American-style buttercream in a thin layer..

Sourdough Lithuanian Coffee Cake.

I have made a number of cakes with sourdough starter - and also talked about them before.  Most recently, I was excited about this Lithuanian Coffee Cake.

I also truly love this fully fermented Applesauce Cake, which uses a whole pint of home-canned applesauce and is based on a Spanish Bar Cake recipe my Gram used to make.

I'm fairly certain that sourdough cakes are not something I'm done experimenting with - and I'm sure I'll find plenty of links this month to convince me to consume a bit more sugar!  Take a look below to check some of them out!

Daring Baker Challenge January 2013: Speculaas Gevulde

Francijn of Koken in de Brouwerij was our January 2013 Daring Bakers’ Hostess and she challenged us to make the traditional Dutch pastry, Gevulde Speculaas from scratch! That includes making our own spice mix, almond paste and dough! 

This month, the Daring Baker challenge was another thing I've never eaten, speculaas.  Indeed, I've never really heard much about it my neck of the woods.  The closest I ever came to any experimentation was when I read this piece by David Leibovitz over 2 years ago.  I imagined what the flavor of that speculoos spread tasted like, and wondered if I'd ever see a jar of it here, or better if I could make some myself.  Then I promptly forgot about it until this month when it rang a bell once again.

Speculaas Gevulde is Dutch, comprised of an almond paste center and a top and bottom layer of spiced shortbread.  There apparently are famous cookies, bearing the traditional shapes of their Dutch (or Belgian) counterparts.  This piqued my interest.  Some of the only non-homemade cookies I remember at my Gram's house were perpetual boxes of "Windmill Cookies".  They were almondy and brittle thin, slightly spiced and excellent when dunked in milk.  In fact, many cookies in my possession went submerged too long and turned into that miraculous cookie sludge in the bottom of my glass, that I happily drank after no doubt negotiating more cookies to replace them.  Perhaps that wasn't far off from the speculoos spread that Leibovitz heralded...

It appears that "speculoos" and "speculaas" refer to the same thing, names bound by a common Latin moniker I'd imagine, and used by citizenry of different countries.  What little online research I did prying into the past of speculaas didn't confirm much in the way of how a brittle spice cookie turned into a semi-soft, layered confection.  The term "gevulde speculaas" is Dutch for filled speculass, which is what this cookie-cake is called.  It really makes no difference to me how it came to evolve, because this little cake was actually very easy to make and incredibly delicious!

Our challenge was actually to make the almond paste middle as well, and since I had stashed some homemade almond paste in the freezer from last September (when I made this wonderful gluten-free upside down cake from the Bojon Gourmet), the cake came together even more quickly.  I used 12 oz. of stored almond paste that I made according to this recipe (except I added extra almond extract - I can never get enough almond!).  I let it thaw overnight in the refrigerator, and it was a perfect consistency to roll for the center of this dessert.  (I used my strange-sized tart tin, which measures 7 inches across the bottom and 8 across the top.)

Maybe 2 days before actually baking the speculaas, I mixed up the spice mixture and then the dough.  Using my food processor, which seemed to be the easiest and least messy way of cutting a good amount of butter into a floury spice mix, I had speculaas dough in short order.  I think the time in the fridge was good for marrying the spicy flavors as well.

One of the most interesting things about this challenge was the combination of spices.  Having never tasted the real thing, I relied on the formula our host provided.  In additions to mandatory inclusions like cinnamon, cloves, and ginger, optional spices like nutmeg (mace, nutmeg's weblike exterior coating, interestingly was also a mandatory spice), coriander, and white pepper.  Francijn suggested the parts of spice, but it was basically individual taste that dictated the final flavor.  I added extra ginger powder, but next time I'd like to increase the "spicy-hot" factor by adding more white pepper, and perhaps by using cassia cinnamon which has a hotter profile than Ceylon cinnamon.

Speculaas Spice Mix
(enough for several batches of gevulde speculaas dough)

• 2 t. cloves
• 1 t. mace
• 1 1/2 t. ginger powder
• 1 t. cardamom
• 1/2 t. coriander powder
• 1/2 t. anise seed, crushed to a powder
• 1 t. nutmeg
• 1/2 t. white pepper

After weighing the base spices (about 12 g.), I added the cinnamon.  I started with 8 g., which was a little light.  10 g. bumped it up to perfect.  To see Francijn's suggested measuring system for speculaas spices, click here.

The original recipe did not call for specifically for milk, but only to add some if the dough felt dry.  I poured it through the top of the processor as it was pulsing and stopped as soon as the dough pinched together like a pastry dough should. 

Speculaas Gevulde Dough (Francjin, via The Daring Kitchen)

• 250 g. (1 3/4 c.) AP flour
• 1 t. baking powder
• 150 g. (3/4 c. packed) brown sugar
• pinch of salt
• 2 T. speculaas spices, see above
• 175 g. (3/4 c. or 6 oz.) butter, cut into pieces
• enough whole milk to hold it together, about 2-3 T.

Combine all ingredients except butter and milk in a food processor and pulse several times to combine.  Add the butter, and pulse several times until the mixture resembles "coarse meal".  Add milk as described above if the dough doesn't come together.

Transfer the dough to a plastic bag, form into a disc, and refrigerate at least two hours, and up to several days.  The dough can also be frozen for several months.

Assembling the final Speculaas Gevulde:

When it comes time to assemble your gevulde speculaas, roll out the speculaas dough in two equal pieces exactly the size of your chosen pan.  Use two pieces of cling wrap and roll between them. (It helps to work with the dough cold, as it gets sticky as it warms.) Roll out the almond paste to the same size as well.  Beat an egg for an egg wash, and have some blanched almonds ready for decoration.  (You can easily blanch the almonds and remove the skins yourself:  Bring a small pot of water to a boil.  Add almonds, cover and remove from heat.  Let stand for 1 minute, then drain and the skins will pop right off between your fingers.)

Butter your baking dish (glass pan, tart pan, etc.) well, then fit a layer of speculaas dough into the bottom.  Brush liberally with egg wash, then fit the almond layer over the top.  Brush again liberally with egg wash.  Top with the second piece of speculaas dough.  Brush a final time with egg wash, then decorate with the blanched almonds.  Bake in a preheated 350 degree oven for 40 minutes.  The top will be nicely browned, and the cake will feel set and dense.  Cool completely in the pan before removing and slicing.

I had just a small amount of speculaas dough left over and an even smaller amount of almond paste.  This came from trimming to fit a circular tart tin.  I made 9 small balls of the speculaas dough, and 9 tiny almond past balls, fit the two together, then pressed with a glass to an even thickness.  I refrigerated them until the gevulde speculaas was done baking, then popped them into the oven at 350 until they were browned and crisp, about 20 minutes.  They were much crunchier than the layered speculaas, and I liked them a lot!  I probably like the layered cake better, so I wouldn't make the dough especially into cookies, but it's a great use for the leftover trimmings.

 I really enjoyed this cake as it aged.  I stored it in my new obsession: these reusable, beeswax coated, hemp and cotton flats that can be made into envelopes around food.  I can't thank Deena enough for sending me a package of them - I had never heard of them, and I really love them!  The wrapping kept it moist and dense, and I feel like the flavors deepened as the days passed.

I'm so pleased with the way this challenge went.  An elegant, petite spice cake, spiked with almond and nearly endlessly adaptable to your liking?  How could I feel anything but pure love for this dessert?  Thank you to Francjin for a wonderful challenge selection!  Be sure to check out the original recipe, and a short history of the spice trade and the Netherlands role in this confection!

Sourdough Lithuanian Coffee Cake

Do you ever stand in your kitchen, a fingerfull of raw batter in your mouth, and just smile because you already know that you've hit the mark?  Food police everywhere warn against the consumption of raw and undercooked things, especially eggs, but I am a full-fledged batter tester and nothing anyone says to me will ever change it.

That moment of shear delight, when raw cake stands perched and ready to go into the oven, that is when I take early pleasure in knowing if my baked good has succeeded.  This morning when I waited impatiently for the minutes of baking time to tick by, and comforted myself with those early raw tastes, I already knew this cake was going to be a favorite.

Last Sunday, I finally made the Lithuanian Coffee Cake taken from the book Welcome to Claire's.  I had wanted to make the cake for months, a true testament to my ability to refrain from too much sugar this year.  However rigorous I think I have become in the sugar-free department, I am fairly certain that from birth I was raised to enjoy a little sweet nibble with the morning coffee, whether it be named cake or otherwise.  There is something about the way a bit of sugar complements the bitterness of coffee that makes the day complete.  If I'm going to bake, let me always be able to bake something to be enjoyed in the morning.

My son reminds me, "Coffee cake is a cake that you eat when you are drinking coffee, not a cake that has coffee in it."  While that is true, I didn't want to confuse him by telling him that there is sometimes coffee in coffee cake.  In fact, I add coffee to nearly everything chocolate that ever comes from my kitchen.  I feel sneaky and underhanded, upping the flavor of the chocolate by included heavy pinches of espresso powder when no one is the wiser.  But some cakes, like this Lithuanian Coffee Cake, actually do have coffee in them.  Not enough to replace your caffeine consumption for the day, but enough to enhance your coffee drinking experience.

Claire's version was a butter cake made in the standard way and baked in a bundt pan.  I liked it a lot, but it seemed a bit dry after it aged a few days, and the filling ingredients included raisins which when baked on top (the bottom when inverted) were a bit burnt tasting to me.  That is just nit-picking, however, since I really loved the flavor of the cake, and made my half of the bundt (I gave half to a friend) last until yesterday.  

This is after the sourdough, flour, and milk fermented overnight.

I've been increasing my amount of well fed, "discard"starter lately, and out of curiosity (and lack of cake) I decided before bedtime last night to mix up a true sourdough cake: one that ferments overnight to reduce all of the indigestible parts of the wheat flour.

After all, if I'm going to go on a cake-making and cake-eating binge, I may as well make it the healthiest possible way, right?

Sourdough Lithuanian Coffee Cake (inspired by Claire Criscuolo)

For the filling:

• 1/4 c. dark brown sugar
• 1/4 c. chopped walnuts
• 1/4 c. raisins
• 1 T. finely ground coffee
• 1 t. cinnamon
• 1 T. cacao nibs
• merest pinch of salt 

For the cake:

• 1 c. well-fed sourdough starter (100% hydration)
• 1 c. AP flour
• 1 c. whole milk
• 3/4 c. raw sugar
• 1/3 c. olive oil
• 1 egg
• 1/4 t. salt
• 1 t. instant espresso powder
• 1 t. vanilla extract
• 1 t. baking soda

The night before (or at least 7 hours before you want to bake), combine the starter, flour, and milk and mix well.  Let stand at room temperature well covered.

When ready to continue, preheat oven to 350, and butter an 8x8 glass baking dish very well.

Mix all of the filling ingredients together in a small bowl, and set aside.

To your fermented sourdough base, add the sugar and stir until well combined.  In a 1-cup liquid measure, measure out olive oil.  Add to it the egg, salt, espresso powder, and vanilla, and whisk well to combine.  Just before ready to pour the cake into the pan, add the baking soda to the rest of the ingredients in the measuring cup and whisk well.  Immediately pour into the sourdough base, and stir well to combine.

Pour about half of the batter into the prepared pan.  Sprinkle about 2/3rds of the filling over the top, making sure to include most if not all of the raisins.  Top with the remaining batter.  Sprinkle the last of the filling over the top.  Using a long spatula, knife, or chopstick, swirl (as if to marble) through the cake.  The intent isn't to create a true marbled effect, but rather to gently incorporate the filling through the dough, since the sourdough batter is a bit foamy after adding the baking soda.

Bake in preheated oven for about 50 minutes, until the tester comes out cleanly from the center.  Cool for as long as you can in the pan before cutting.  You may wish to top with an icing or a thinned buttercream frosting, but it is perfectly good as is.

I actually liked the cake more than I suspected I would.  Even after tasting the batter - it surprised me.  It's incredibly moist, and seems sweeter on its own than the non-sourdough version (which really did need frosting to help it along I think... not that there is anything wrong with that).  The final sprinkle of sugar makes a crispy crust, perfect for alongside your first cup of coffee for the day.  Those few cacao nibs that I added on a whim were a good idea, when still a bit warm they were a true chocolate nuance without any of the sugar of chocolate chips or chunks.  Making sure the raisins were all tucked underneath the batter was a good idea too since they all plumped up adding sweetness without any burnt caramel undertones.

I was actually curious what makes this cake deserve the name "Lithuanian". When searching for Internet answers, all that came up was Clare's Corner Copia in New Haven, Connecticut and this insanely popular dessert that has been served there for the past 35 years.  I'm thinking that  the marriage of raisin and coffee is a decidedly Eastern European combination, and maybe one that resonates so well with me because of my ancestral roots in that part of the world.

In any case, making either the traditional version (from Claire's, read here), or this very worthy sourdough version will make the side of your coffee cup very happy.  

Golden Slumbers: California Extra Virgin Olive Oil

I feel like we've reached the age where there doesn't seem to be anything new left under the sun. We've already put men on the moon and the Beatles have conquered. In the past 10 years alone the world has shrunk immeasurably due to the Internet; the vastness of what we can now find on a whim is staggering, yet I still feel the thrill of new discovery in my own food world. I have found real olive oil, and it is indeed like hearing the Beatles for the first time all over again.

I haven't eaten much olive oil for the past few years. I tried brand after brand of mediocre oil, organic and non-organic, imported and blended. I really had no idea what I was looking for - but my taste buds told me that I hadn't found it yet and I began to wonder if I would ever find that oil I had read about: silky, sexy, health improving oil that knocked my socks off and was worth every cent. Oil that I felt confident in using, without fear of rancid bitterness plaguing the back of my throat.

Meanwhile, I'd been upping my consumption of coconut oil, which I still use frequently. Two years ago, I finally ditched health-industry sponsored canola oil for good and replaced it with flavorless grapeseed oil (which, to be honest, I am still leery of so I use it sparingly). For most things baked or sauteed, I've opted for coconut oil or plain old butter. Unfortunately I'd all but given up on olive oil.

I recently decided I needed to find out more about olive oil, and that I needed to find an exceptional version that I was unafraid to serve to friends and family, one that was impressive and didn't put me (further into) the poor house to buy. I found California Olive Ranch oil, and the one bottle I've been sampling - living with really - for the past month and a half has really changed my life.

I knew the minute I got this bottle that it was something special. It came when my Mom was here visiting, and we opened and tried it with a fresh loaf of bread. My Husband poured more into his dipping bowl, a motion that caught my attention immediately. This wasn't old, ordinary oil, it was fresh and grassy, it tasted of olives and was a beautiful green color. It was oil to be proud of and I started to use it everyday and in nearly everything I made.

vegan walnut- hazelnut shiitake pizza...

Olive oil is the only "commercially significant" oil produced from a fruit. When thinking of olive oil as fruit based, it makes perfect sense that most of the lesser quality oils I've had in the past had rancid, unpleasantly bitter tastes. True extra virgin olive oils, made carefully without heating and with first rate olives, yield uncompromising flavors like complex wines. They are released to the public with nuances of the land they grew up in, the olive varietals they are pressed from, and their numerous healthy olive compounds in tact.

my favorite spice paste, used in Sourdough Msemmen (flatbreads).

About the same time I received my bottle of Everyday Extra Virgin Olive Oil, I began reading the book Extra Virginity by Tom Mueller. It chronicles the sordid history of the olive, how it was important to the ancients for commerce, health, and vitality - and how increasingly it has become a commodity that has been tampered with. True extra virgin olive oil is made with first rate fruits still on the tree, not those that have fallen to the ground and then collected, and it is milled within hours of picking. Essentially it is a fresh fruit juice, pressed at the proper moment of ripeness and hopefully then minimally processed and laid to rest in tinted bottles where it is protected from too much heat and light.

(I haven't quite finished this book yet, but it is fascinating, and I recommend reading it if you are curious about the world of olive oil. You can also catch an NPR interview with Tom Mueller here.)

As I read through the early pages of Mueller's book, I began to wonder if the California olive oil was as good as Mediterranean oil. While our climate in North American can only approximate the Mediterranean climate in parts of the west coast, certainly oil produced here is more "environmentally friendly", since it is only shipped across the country to reach me than around the world. I found that there are many quality olive oil producers in California, and many of them are certified by the California Olive Oil Council, a quality control panel that ensures the Extra Virginity of oils being sold under that name.

I really felt like I experienced a wide range of this olive oil's abilities. I ate it plain on bread, with vegetables, drizzled on the best steak I've ever personally made. I used it over higher heat with no smoking whatsoever, and griddled zucchini and peppers and onions in the heat of post-tortilla-making cast iron skillets. I drizzled it plain over grain and vegetable salads, and finally I made an olive oil cake.

I based my cake on Dorie Greenspan's French Yogurt Cake, and added some blossoming lemon thyme from my garden. The slightly herbal lemon thyme was a good match for the grassy underpinnings of the olive oil. I infused some sliced strawberries with more lemon thyme for a shortcake-esque dessert topping.

My loaf pans are standard 9 x 5 bread pans. I'd like to get some 8 1/2 x 4 1/2 tea loaf pans, because I think cakes baked in that size would be prettier when sliced. You can also bake this cake in a 9 inch round cake tin, slice it horizontally in half when fully cooled, fill with berries, and top with whipped cream.

(French) Olive Oil Yogurt Cake (adapted from Dorie Greenspan)

• 1 c. ap flour
• 1/2 ground almonds (or an additional 1/2 c. of flour)
• 2 t. baking powder
• pinch of salt
• 1 c. sugar (I will cut this to 1/2 c. or 3/4 c. next time, it was a little sweet)
• zest of one lemon, microplaned
• 1 t. or more of lemon thyme leaves
  
• 1/2 c. plain yogurt
• 3 eggs
• 1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 350. Butter a loaf pan (or other baking tin), and place it on a rimmed baking sheet.

Mix the flour, almond meal, baking powder and salt together and set aside.

Put the sugar and lemon zest in a medium bowl and rub together with your fingers until the sugar is lemon yellow, slightly damp, and scented with lemon. Add the thyme leaves, and carefully mix them around with your fingers - not so much that they are beat up, but enough for them to release some of their thymey oils.

Then, add the yogurt and eggs and whisk until well combined. Add the dry ingredients while still whisking, until very well blended. Switch to a rubber spatula, and add the olive oil. Using folding motion, fold the oil into the batter. It will take a few minutes for the batter to come together. Scrape it into the prepared pan, smoothing the top.

Bake 50-55 minutes or until a tester comes out cleanly from the center and the cake begins to pull away from the sides of the pan. Cool 5 minutes in the pan set on a wire rack, then remove from the pan and let cool completely.

(To make infused strawberries, freeze a quart of whole (hulled) strawberries overnight then let them partially back to room temperature. When still partially frozen, slice and place in a bowl. Add sugar to taste (I used only about 1 T.), and a few sprigs of lemon thyme leaves. Refrigerate until defrosted completely, stirring every so often to encourage even distribution of flavor. Will keep several days under refrigeration, and remove the spent thyme sprigs before serving.)

This is a perfect, sophisticated version of strawberry shortcake. I served it for a friend's birthday, specifically because I knew it would pack up well. It was actually 2 days old when we first sliced it, and I think the flavors improved with time. I gave away the remainder of the cake to the birthday girl, and then mixed up these easy chocolate olive oil truffles. Even though I used the Everyday Extra Virgin Olive Oil instead of the single varietal Arbequina. I shouldn't have been shocked at the flavor of these, but I was. It is crucial to let the truffles come back to room temperature for 10 minutes before letting them slowly melt in your mouth...

I had always heard that heating olive oil was not good and that it destroyed the health benefits of the oil. Now, I'm reading that good olive oils can reach temperatures upwards of 400 degrees with no deterioration, and that extra virgin olive oils are actually a very stable oil for sauteing and frying. I had no instances with sauteing this past month that showed the slightest wisp of smoking... and I've been liberally using olive oil once again as a go-to oil on top of the stove. It's so refreshing to embrace olive oil confidently!

I've now reached the end of my bottle, and spent part of this morning calling the various Sendik's locations listed on the California Olive Ranch website as a local retailers. On my 5th store, I called all the way up to Mequon (which would have been quite a drive for me), the manager happened to be with his specialty foods rep. They actually ordered the Everyday Extra Virgin Olive Oil to come in to the Franklin store for me early next week! Thanks to Sendik's outstanding customer service I will be out to pick up a new bottle locally next week. If you are interested in picking up a bottle and in are in the Milwaukee area, I'd try calling their service desk before making the drive out to 51st and Rawson just to be sure. I think it is an oil they would be able to get consistently if there was enough demand.

I will also likely place an order through the California Olive Ranch website if I'm not able to source the varietals locally. They offer discounts for recurring shipments, and I'm thinking that I will order with a friend and split the shipping costs. I can't wait to taste the Arbequina varietal in particular, and later this year I'll hopefully get some of the seasonal Limited Reserve as well.

It's easy to be excited about re-tasting something for the first time. It's wonderful to know that there are some quality extra virgin olive oils being produced in the US, and it feels terrific to be able to count on a consistent, healthy alternative to the confusing and suspicious claims on supermarket shelve bottles. Hopefully, this isn't the last of the California-produced extra virgins that I am able to sample!

Disclaimer: I did receive a bottle of California Olive Ranch's Everyday Extra Virgin Olive Oil for review, but the opinions expressed here are entirely my own. I loved this oil and would recommend it to anyone looking for an affordable, quality extra virgin olive oil!

Daring Baker's Challenge April 2012: Armenian Nutmeg Cake

The Daring Bakers’ April 2012 challenge, hosted by Jason at Daily Candor, were two Armenian standards: nazook and nutmeg cake. Nazook is a layered yeasted dough pastry with a sweet filling, and nutmeg cake is a fragrant, nutty coffee-style cake.

I did this challenge mid-month when I simply couldn't go another day without cake. I take no small amount of pride in my continuing quest for a less-sweet life, and now when I look back on the amount of sugary desserts I've eaten daily for so long, I cringe. I'm not saying that I don't still love to bake, and that I don't still love cake (or all sweet things) with a preternatural, bear-hugging grasp, but somehow my mind has changed and I don't crave sweets on an hourly basis like I used to.

But... this little gem of a cake! I actually made a petite half recipe and baked it in a little vintage 8-inch springform tin - and I made the entire thing in the food processor. I know what you already may be thinking, "doesn't a food processor beat up the gluten in the flours, making a tough crumb?" That's actually what I thought too but it's not the case, and it makes a cake in a single bowl in such a short amount of time that I can see this lovely little cake in my oven just after you phone to say you are stopping over in a half hour.

Nutmeg is one of my most favorite spices. Whenever I think of it, all shy tucked up into a rough-skinned nut, growing in trees cloaked in a web of more delicately flavored mace, I think of baking logic I picked up somewhere along the way. Improper logic if I am honest, since it called for judicious use of nutmeg due to it's overwhelming nature. Overwhelming? I can hardly be overwhelmed by such an alluring spice. I almost always add additional nutmeg to spice cakes and cookies, a faint additional grating over rice pudding or even oatmeal.

A little additional reading, and I wonder if judicious use of nutmeg was recommended due to a history of purported psychoactive effects, some of which seem very valid according to this article I read from just a year and a half ago. While I'm not likely to grind up 3 whole nutmegs and down it with a glass of wine to experiment, I will happily make this cake again with a whole teaspoon of freshly ground nutmeg, and I'll do it for some while with this beautiful jar that E brought me from France, even though it caused a slight stir in security since it looked like a liquids container on the X-ray machine.

This cake makes its own bottom butter crumb crust, which is endearing because it gives a little textural difference to the cake. I also cut the sugar in half for my purposes, and both my picky boys (the one who rarely eats dessert, and the one who could live only on dessert) loved it. This little cake didn't last long because we had three happy eaters; next time I will make a double amount and increase the baking time ever so slightly. Serve it with some vanilla ice cream for an impossibly elegant dessert, or by itself, a plain, happy wedge with the morning coffee.

Armenian Nutmeg Cake

(adapted from DB host Jason of DailyCandor)

1 8-inch cake, 8 small but satisfying servings

• 1/2 c. whole milk
• 1/2 t. baking soda
• 1/2 c. ap flour
• 1/2 c. whole wheat flour
• 1 t. baking powder
• 1/2 c. brown sugar
• 6 T. (3 oz.) cold butter, cubed
• 1/4 c. walnuts (or more)
• 1 t. freshly grated nutmeg
• 1 egg

Preheat oven to 350.

Mix the baking soda (not baking powder) into the milk, and set aside. Put the flour, baking powder, and the brown sugar into your food processor, and pulse until uniformly mixed. Add the cubed butter, and pulse until uniformly mixed into tan-colored crumbs.

Pour HALF of the crumbs into your springform (I used an 8-inch for this half recipe, a 9-inch is recommended for a full sized recipe) pan. Press out a crust using your fingers.

Crack the egg into the food processor with the rest of the crumbs still in it. Grate the nutmeg into the crumbs, and pulse until well-incorporated.

Pour in the milk and baking soda mixture. Continue to mix until a slightly lumpy tan batter is formed. Pour the batter over the crust in the springform pan. Gently sprinkle the walnut pieces over the batter. Unafraid of hallucinations, I grated a few whispers of additional nutmeg across the top.

Bake in the preheated oven for 25 minutes or so, until the top is golden brown, and when a toothpick comes out clean.

Cool the cake in the pan for at least 10-15 minutes before unmolding. You may need to run a thin knife around the edge to help it. (I removed the sides of the springform when the cake was still warm, and then waited until it was cooled completely to remove the bottom.)

Note: You can find the original recipe here. It calls for 1 egg for the whole cake, and only white, all-purpose flour. I found the texture with whole wheat and a whole egg in a half cake recipe to be perfect, but you may want to make the original version if you prefer lighter cakes - although I wouldn't say this one was dense per se.

It might be impossible to describe the scent of this cake when it was in the oven, calling my family members from other rooms to ask what it was and could they eat some. This response could be another reason why this cake is a new favorite, sure to become a standard for years to come!

Many thanks to Jason for this reason to bake up a well-deserved cake, and be sure to check out the Daring Kitchen websites for the original recipe, the gorgeous looking recipe for nazook (which I will likely make someday when I'm not obsessing about desserts consumption...), and the blogroll of Daring Bakers and their takes on the challenge this month.