Spice and Scent

Like this alabaster box whose art
Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart,
Carven with delicate dreams and wrought
With many a subtle and exquisite thought.

Therein I treasure the spice and scent
Of rich and passionate memories blent
Like odours of cinnamon, sandal, and clove,
Of song and sorrow and life and love.

—Sarojini Naidu

Continue reading “Spice and Scent”

An Olive Tree, An Emerald

Olive Oil, Ricotta, and Almond Pound Cake | La Pêche Fraîche

He called her a melon, a pineapple,
an olive tree, an emerald,
and a fox in the snow all in the space of three seconds;
he did not know whether he had heard her,
tasted her,
seen her,
or all three together.

—Virginia Woolf, Orlando: A Biography

Olive Oil, Ricotta, and Almond Pound Cake | La Pêche Fraîche

Do you consider yourself a picky eater?

I’ve never been a picky eater. I do avoid an entire food group because I’m vegetarian, but that’s not because I didn’t like the taste of meat, but rather that I no longer cared to eat animals. (Phew, didn’t mean for that to sound accusatory. I just don’t want plant based eating to be conflated with pickiness!)
When I was a little kid, I didn’t like spicy-stinky kimchi, but that quickly faded, presumably because it would go against my very genetics to turn my nose up at kimchi.
I didn’t love blue cheese, but didn’t encounter it often enough to make a fuss when I did. I always loved beets.
Chewy, bouncy textures (common in Asian desserts) have always entranced me.
Red adzuki beans, broccoli stems, pickled lemons, mushrooms, eggplant, tofu, kale, egg salad: all on my favorites list.

However, I always thought I didn’t like olives. Wouldn’t touch the little buggers, green or black or kalamata.
I knew I already loved olive oil—one of my favorite snacks has always been crusty bread dipped in olive oil with salt—but I had always refused olives as an icky precursor to that pourable gold.
En fait, it wasn’t until college that I tried them, prompted by someone I trusted and an overwhelming desire not to embarrass myself in front of them with an uncultured palate.
I can hardly believe that I once didn’t like olives, since they are now one of my absolute favorite foods.

Olive Oil, Ricotta, and Almond Pound Cake | La Pêche Fraîche

So much dislike and hatred and fear of otherness is due to ignorance and inexposure. How much could be solved by a simple introduction of the unknown by the familiar or the trusted.
I mean, look how guzzl-able a green smoothie is. Add enough banana and a good helping of nut butter and even the most chlorophobic person won’t mind the spinach.
Our inability to see the fallibility of the assumption that if we haven’t directly experienced it—haven’t directly heard or tasted or seen it—that it doesn’t exist, or shouldn’t exist, or couldn’t possibly be good, continues to stun me.
We are all trapped within our own narrow umwelts.

Am I about to try to slop the metaphor of picky eating onto current events? MAYONNAI- MAYBE.
We should look to those whom we elect to be the trusted ones, to introduce us and bring us together rather than tearing us apart. They should vouch for us all, but not at the expense of others outside of our nation, either.
Bigots shouldn’t be allowed to hold office.
Discriminatory palates shouldn’t get to dictate what goes into the melting pot.
Those who wave the bible around to justify themselves would do well to remember that the commandment is to Love Thy Neighbor, not Choose Thy Neighbors Out Of People You Already Like.
The ridiculous fear-mongering over immigrants and POC and the denial of the Everywoman’s lived experience represents the worst of the assumptions we can make about others of backgrounds different than our own.

The (male) GOP candidate for senator in North Dakota said that #MeToo is leading women towards victimization.
The callous lack of empathy that he displays is hard to fathom. He does not deserve to be the representative of any woman or survivor.
Heidi Heitkamp, the Democratic incumbent, said,
“‘I think it’s wonderful that his wife has never had an experience, and good for her, and it’s wonderful his mom hasn’t,’ she said. ‘My mom did. And I think it affected my mom her whole life. And it didn’t make her less strong.’
With tears welling in her eyes, Ms. Heitkamp stared intently at a reporter and continued: ‘And I want you to put this in there, it did not make my mom less strong that she was a victim. She got stronger and she made us strong. And to suggest that this movement doesn’t make women strong and stronger is really unfortunate.'”

Here’s the bottom line: today is the last day to register to vote in many states. Are you registered yet?
I urge you to take just a minute to check, or double-check.
No matter from which side of the aisle you will be heard; your voice deserves legitimate space.
Let’s not choose politicians who don’t think everyone’s voice has value, or who talk over others.
The incessant lying isn’t helping to open our minds. We must force ourselves out of our comfort zones: do your research, thoroughly.
Don’t rely on one source for your news. Do your best to empathize.
Try an olive, or two; extend that selfsame branch.

Olive Oil, Ricotta, and Almond Pound Cake | La Pêche Fraîche

Back to olive oil, now.
This cake was hailed by some as the best they had ever tried.
When I took my first bite of the slice shown in these pictures, the fork nearly dropped out of my hand.
The cake is outrageously soft and plush, with a moist, even crumb that is almost silly in its unbroken uniformity.
Creamy whole-milk ricotta combines with peppery, lemon-infused olive oil from Pasolivo to create a delightfully subtle flavor profile; almond flour adds softness to the structure, and a glaze made of yet more ricotta and olive oil adds continuity to the taste and a light crunch to the exterior of the cake.

This is the pan I used, from Nordic Ware. I think it’s just gorgeous, with all its dramatic swooping swirls.
Additionally, it’s about half the size of a standard bundt pan, which means I can fit it in my cram-jam packed pantry and it bakes up much more quickly than a 10-cup bundt cake.
Just make sure, as with any bundt pan, to grease the edges, corners, and hidden nooks very well!

Olive Oil, Ricotta, and Almond Pound Cake | La Pêche Fraîche

Bundt Cakes, previously:
Dairy Free Pumpkin Bundt Cake with Lemon Glaze
Dairy-Free Lemon and Champagne Pound Cake
Chocolate Sour Cream Cake
Chocolate and Matcha Mochi Bundt
Classic Banana Cake with Speculoos Glaze
Perfect Banana Bundt
Twice-Glazed Citrus Honey Pound Cake

Olive Oil, Ricotta, and Almond Pound Cake | La Pêche Fraîche

Disclaimer: I was provided with a product in this post for free, in exchange for my honest and fair review. All opinions are my own.
Thanks to Pasolivo for the delicious olive oil. Bisous!

Olive Oil, Ricotta, and Almond Pound Cake | La Pêche Fraîche

Olive Oil, Ricotta, and Almond Pound Cake
makes 1 mini-bundt, or one 8- or 9-inch round cake

ingredients:
for the cake:
150 grams (2/3 cup) lemon-infused olive oil (such as Pasolivo Lemon Olive Oil)
300 grams (1 1/2 cups) sugar
1 teaspoon salt
3 eggs
375 grams (1 1/2 cups) whole-milk ricotta
180 grams (1 1/2 cups) flour
75 grams (3/4 cup) almond meal
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

for the glaze:
2 teaspoons lemon-infused olive oil (such as Pasolivo Lemon Olive Oil)
2 teaspoons ricotta
115 grams (1 cup) powdered sugar
generous pinch salt
milk, as needed

directions:
Make the cake: grease and flour a 6-cup capacity pan; use a mini bundt, or an 8 x 3-inch or 9 x 2-inch pan.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Whisk olive oil, sugar and salt together in a large bowl until fully incorporated.
Whisk the eggs in, one at a time, making sure each is fully incorporated before adding the next.
Add the ricotta and stir until it is halfway incorporated.
Add the flour, almond meal, baking powder, and baking soda on top of the batter, and stir to fully incorporate the dry ingredients and the ricotta.
Pour into prepared pan and smooth top.
Bake for 45 minutes to an hour for a mini bundt, and 35 minutes to 45 minutes for a round pan.
A tester should come out with a few moist crumbs and the internal temperature should register at 210 degrees F (begin checking at 45 minutes for a bundt, and 35 minutes for a round pan).
Allow cake to cool.
Make glaze: whisk olive oil into ricotta until smooth.
Whisk in powdered sugar and salt; it will be thick.
Thin the glaze until it is of pourable consistency using 1/2 teaspoon of milk at a time.
Place cake on a wire rack with parchment paper beneath it.
Pour glaze over the cake, then collect drippings (if desired) and pour over cake a second time.

Disclaimer: I was provided with a product in this post for free, in exchange for my honest and fair review. All opinions are my own. Bisous!

Fogueira

Vegan Campfire Pie | La Pêche Fraîche

“There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million. Some infinities are bigger than other infinities. A writer we used to like taught us that. There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set. I want more numbers than I’m likely to get, and God, I want more numbers for Augustus Waters than he got. But, Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.”

—John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

Vegan Campfire Pie | La Pêche Fraîche

Cosine, secant, tangent, sine,
Three point one four one five nine,
Square root, cube root, BTU,
Sequence, series, limits too. Rah.

Themistocles, Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War,
X squared, Y squared, H2SO4.
Who for? What for? Who we gonna yell for?
Go, Maroons.

Logarithm, biorhythm, entropy, kinetics,
MPC, GNP, bioenergetics!
Maximize and integrate, titrate and equilibrate—
Go, Maroons.

—Very Unofficial UChicago football cheer

Vegan Campfire Pie | La Pêche Fraîche

Happy Pi day!
And yes, I am going to share that chant every year on 3/14.
I love my ridiculous and nerdy school, lol.

Today was my last day of finals for the quarter, omg. Brutal! I have been so busy all weekend preparing. Luckily for me, this means I’m one step closer to spring break—I’m going to Brazil to visit my best friend and stay with her family! I am so excited. I’ll be sure to keep you all updated, even if it goes dark around here for a little while.

Vegan Campfire Pie | La Pêche Fraîche

There were so many gorgeous pies shared by food bloggers all over the world today—I really want to get into making pie crust art like everyone else! Count me in on that bandwagon.

But today, I’m sharing a very unique pie—a vegan one!

This vegan campfire pie is made with a shatteringly flaky, 1-bowl, no rolling olive oil pie crust with a healthy dose of salt. It would be a brilliant base for a number of sweet OR savory pies. It was so easy to whip together, and since I used good olive oil, it had a ton of flavor as well. The subtle savoriness and grassiness of the olive oil is a really nice contrast to the marshmallows.
As soon as it comes out of the oven, it is spread with dark chocolate to ensure that it doesn’t get soggy whatsoever; the pie crust will stay crispy when stored.
The filling is a chocolate pudding, made with almond milk and a spoonful of molasses for depth; it’s not too sweet while being quite rich.
The whole thing is topped off with halved marshmallows that are toasted—sweet, sticky, and the perfect, not-too-sophisticated touch that makes this campfire pie special.
(You can find vegan marshmallows at Whole Foods!)

Vegan Campfire Pie | La Pêche Fraîche

Pie, previously:

Pumpkin meringue tart.

Brûléed citrus and lime pie.

Apple, pear, butterscotch and cheddar pie.

Pumpkin pie spice brown butter chocolate pecan pie.

Fig, rosemary, and lemon tart.

Coconut buttermilk chess pie.

Vegan Campfire Pie | La Pêche Fraîche

Vegan Campfire Pie
makes 1 8- or 9-inch pie

ingredients:
for the olive oil pie crust:
240 grams (2 cups) AP flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
15 grams (1 tablespoon) sugar
3/8 teaspoon baking powder
85 grams (7 tablespoons) olive oil
60 grams (1/4 cup) cold water

for the chocolate molasses filling:
30 grams (1/4 cup) corn or tapioca starch
66 grams (1/3 cup) sugar
25 grams (3 tablespoons) cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
600 grams (2 1/2 cups) almond milk
2 teaspoons molasses
112 grams (4 ounces) bittersweet chocolate, chopped

to assemble:
28 grams (1 ounce) dark chocolate, chopped
vegan marshmallows

directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and ready an 8- or 9-inch tart or pie pan.
Make the crust: whisk flour, salt, sugar, baking powder, and olive oil together, then slowly pour in the cold water and knead until dough comes together.
Press into prepared pan and line with parchment paper and pie weights.
Bake at 350 degrees F for 20-30 minutes, or until toasted and golden brown.
As soon as the crust comes out of the oven, remove the pie weights and scatter 1 ounce of chopped chocolate or chocolate chips over the bottom.
Allow to sit for 2 minutes, then spread the melted chocolate all over and set the crust aside to cool.
Meanwhile, make the filling: whisk starch, sugar, cocoa powder, and salt together, then slowly pour in the almond milk while whisking.
Place over medium heat and whisk constantly until thickened and bubbly, about 5-7 minutes.
Remove from heat and add molasses and chopped chocolate; whisk until fully combined.
Pour into cooled shell and allow to set overnight in the fridge, or at least for 2 hours.
To serve, place halved marshmallows all over the top, then toast with a kitchen torch.

Take the Cake

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Raise your hand if you’ve ever felt personally victimized by carrot cake.

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Carrot cakes are (generally) overly sweet and fatty.
Cloying sugar covers up the rich earthy undertones of the carrots.
Oil is added until the batter is slick and shiny, and when baked, greasy.

On top of this, a thick, sugared crust of cream cheese frosting, which is literally just fat and pounds of icing sugar.

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Too much sugar and too much fat—not that anyone is really under the impression that traditional carrot cake is intended to be healthy, but there is such a thing as too much of a yummy thing.

Carrot cakes have all the potential in the world, and too often they fall painfully short of delicious.

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Carrots, after sugar beets, have the most natural sugar of any vegetable.  As root vegetables, this sweetness is accompanied by a rich, round earthiness and, when cooked, a pleasant chewiness.

A whole pound of them form the base of this cake, shredded into tiny threads that all but disappear, leaving a moist, coarse crumb.

Carrots are accompanied by nutty rye flour, sweet, buttery pecans, round coconut oil and peppery olive oil, and shredded coconut that melts into the finished cake.

I reduced the sugar and oil in this recipe, replacing the standard canola oil with olive and coconut and taking the sugar down by 1/4.
Both are supplanted by a mashed up banana, which gives body and sweetness in a more wholesome way.

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This adds up to a carrot cake full of textures and flavors, without the slick of oil and heaps of sugar.
It’s carrot cake, but better.
It’s a touch more healthy, but that’s not the point—the point is to make this cake more respectable, more complex.

Take back carrot cake, people.

IMG_1375_01After reducing the amount of sugar and fat in the cake itself, I made a batch of cream cheese frosting that was on the smaller side, and much less sweet than the standard.
In order to be able to not add 1 1/4 POUNDS of powdered sugar to the frosting, I add in powdered milk, which adds body and extra flavor without the cloying sweetness.

This gets spread in a thin layer all over the cake, making it look a little naked but still pretty, IMHO.  Most of the frosting is saved for the top, and it doesn’t crust over with sugar, but remains creamy.

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Words have escaped me when I sit down to write, lately.
I don’t have much to complain about say.
I suppose I don’t feel much inspired by my life of late—not that it’s boring, but it is rather relaxed and quiet—and it leads me to be quite quiet on the blog.
I realize that many of you don’t come for the words, so I am deciding that whether they flow or not, I shall share the recipes and photos that I have in my (long) backlog.

IMG_1406_01
Maybe my next post will have more words.  Maybe not.
xx

IMG_1385_01
Rye Carrot Cake
adapted from Dorie Greenspan
makes 1 4×8 or 3×9 inch layer cake

ingredients:
for the cake:
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup rye flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 scant pound carrots
1 cup chopped pecans
1 cup desiccated coconut (sub shredded coconut)
1/2 cup raisins (optional)
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup coconut oil
1 medium banana, mashed
4 large eggs
2 tablespoons maple syrup

for the cream cheese frosting:
12 ounces (1 1/2 packages) cream cheese, softened
6 ounces (1 1/2 sticks, 12 tablespoons) butter, softened
pinch kosher salt
1 cup dry milk powder
1 1/2-2 cups confectioner’s sugar

directions:
Make the cake: preheat oven to 350 degrees F and grease and flour 4 8-inch round baking pans.
Stir flours, baking powder and baking soda together.
In a food processor with the finest shredder attachment disk or with a cheese grater, shred the carrots as finely as you can; set aside.
Whisk sugar, salt, oils, and banana together very briskly, until completely combined and smooth.
Beat in each of the eggs and the maple syrup; whisk until completely smooth.
Add in the dry ingredients and carrots and stir to combine; when almost combined, add in the pecans, coconut, and raisins.
Scoop even amounts of the batter into the pans and smooth out with a spatula or butter knife.
Bake for 40-45 minutes, until a tester comes out clean and the tops of the cakes are springy to the touch.
Remove from oven and allow to cool for 10 minutes; turn out of pans and allow to cool completely.
Make the frosting: beat butter on high speed until softened and almost white, about 5 minutes.
Add in the cream cheese and salt and beat for 3 more minutes, until completely homogeneous.
Sift the powdered milk and powdered sugar over the mixture in 4 parts, beating on high speed for 1 minute between each addition.
Scrape the sides of the bowl and beat for another minute; taste for sweetness.
To assemble the cake, spread 1/3 cup frosting between each layer and thinly frost the sides; use the remaining frosting to coat the top in a thick layer.
Serve at room temperature.

Olive Yew

Olive trees’ lifespans, on average, are between 300 and 600 years; the oldest known tree is 2000 years old. (!!!)
But… and there’s always a but… I hate olives.  I’m sorry.  I do.  
I just can’t bring myself to like them… They’re sort of slimy, very squishy, and all together too salty.  
That being said, I love olive oil.  I’m not kidding.  The stuff runs through my veins.
Olive oil is liquid gold; the specialty stuff, even more so.
One of the most heavenly things on Earth is a fresh, hot baguette dipped in olive oil+Parmesan.  
There is nothing like it.
For those of you who live in Ithaca, you may have been to the little specialty olive oil and vinegar shop downtown, in the commons: F. Oliver’s.
Talk about wonderful olive oils.  I was in there the other day, recycling old bottles (If you have empty bottles from their store, don’t recycle them the regular way!  Take them down to the store and they will refill them for you or recycle and reuse them.), when I stumbled upon what may possibly be my favorite oil ever- even more so than coconut or toasted sesame- their fresh pressed blood orange olive oil.
Laaaaaawd is it good.  Mix it with some pomegranate molasses and you have the most deliciously tangy salad dressing ever.
I also got some Tuscan garden olive oil.  Gorgeous in a balsamic vinaigrette.
And no, unfortunately enough, I am not getting paid to say these things.
I wish.
Anyways, in addition to picking up some fancy schmancy new oils, I learned that F. Oliver’s is having a recipe contest.
Basically, you develop your best recipe using their oils or vinegars, send it in, and keep your fingers crossed.
The winner gets a free bottle of vinegar or oil every month for the rest of the year!
Obviously, I want to win.  Come on… Imagine all the avocado oil I could get. 
So I made a cake with blood orange olive oil and aged balsamic vinegar.
 
The cake itself is super soft, with a very fine, tight crumb.  The edges and top are ever so slightly crispy, which is a wonderful contrast to the tender interior.
It’s redolent with orange and almond, and it’s made with whole wheat flour.  
It’s a very virtuous cake, dairy-free, whole-wheat, with lots of healthy fats from the olive oil and almonds.  
I’ve paired it with fresh berries that have been roasted into a sticky, syrupy treat with a touch of sugar and a splash of balsamic vinegar that is older than I; they’re complex and balance out the sweetness of the cake wonderfully.
Taming the sweetness even further is a simple whipped mascarpone that I dolloped on top.  It’s plain and unsweetened, but gives richness and body to the dish.  
I ate could eat it by the spoonful.
 
This is a lovely, quick cake, perfect for a brunch (Mother’s day, anyone?) or quick weeknight dessert.  
It’s also classy enough for a light dinner party finisher, sure to leave everyone’s sweet tooth satisfied without weighing them down.
When I say quick, I mean that this is a 2 bowl dessert; the cake is made with one utensil and the batter comes together in 5 minutes if you know your kitchen well; the strawberries roast at the same temperature as the cake and give you just enough time to prep and throw them in and then take them out at the same time as the cake, preventing unnecessary energy waste from an idle oven.
You can serve the cake and compote warm from the oven, so you don’t have to bother with cooling times, and the mascarpone takes all of 30 seconds to whip.
Olive this cake.  Eye really dew.

Orange Almond Olive Oil Cake with Balsamic Roasted Strawberries and Whipped Mascarpone
(that’s a mouthful)
for the cake:
ingredients:
175 g white whole wheat flour (1 1/3 cups)
75 g almond meal (2/3 cup)
12 g baking powder (2 teaspoons)
8 g kosher salt (1 heaping teaspoon)

80 g granulated sugar (1/3 cup)
120 g brown sugar (very loosely packed 2/3 cup)
zest of one orange
135 g F. Oliver’s fresh pressed blood orange extra virgin olive oil (2/3 cup)
4 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
140 g freshly squeezed orange juice (2/3 cup), from about 1 1/2 oranges
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Grease a 9-inch springform or regular cake pan with 2 inch sides.  (Alternatively, you could use an 8-inch with 3 inch sides or a 10-inch with 1 1/2 inch sides.)
Whisk the flour, almond meal, baking powder, and salt together in a bowl.

In another bowl, place the sugars, orange zest, olive oil, and eggs, and whisk vigorously to combine, about 2 minutes.  Mixture should lighten in color.
Whisk the vanilla extract and orange juice into the sugar mixture.
Whisking constantly, slowly add in the flour mixture.
Mix until batter is homogeneous.  
Pour into prepared pan and bake for 30-35 minutes, until cake is deeply golden and springy to the touch, and a tester comes out with only a couple crumbs.
Allow to cool for 5 minutes, then unmold from pan and allow to cool fully.
Dust with powdered sugar and serve with balsamic roasted strawberries and whipped mascarpone.

for the strawberries:
ingredients:
260 g chopped strawberries (2 cups)
15 g granulated sugar (1 tablespoon)
20 g F. Oliver’s 18-year old special reserve balsamic vinegar (1 tablespoon plus 1/2 teaspoon)
splash vanilla extract
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 (or make these simultaneously to the cake).
Toss strawberries with sugar, vinegar, and vanilla.
Spread out in an even layer over a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.
Bake for 20-24 minutes, until softened and caramelized.  
Strawberries should be slightly sticky.
Stir around to fully coat each strawberry with the sauce, and serve slightly warm.

for the whipped mascarpone:
ingredients:
5 tablespoons mascarpone
3 tablespoons half and half
directions:
Using an immersion blender, food processor, or stand- or hand-mixer, beat mascarpone and half and half together until very fluffy and light.
Store in refrigerator until use; serve chilled.

Honey Honey

 
You didn’t see my valentine; I sent it via pantomime…” 
-Fiona Apple
 
O! Be still my “beeting” heart! 
Have you hoarded enough chocolate for your valentine yet?
If he or she is anything like me, the answer is firmly no.
 
Here is the solution: a batch of (cheesily heart-shaped) deep, dark chocolate cakes.
Soft, tender, and yet perfectly chewy, these will melt hearts like butter in a hot pan.  
Melt, I tell you, melt.
 
These are a winning combination of simple and delicious.  
The chocolate shines through, highlighted with notes of salt and umami; the batter is mixed up in 1 bowl with 2 utensils; preparation is 15 minutes, tops, and, if baked in a little heart pan or in a mini muffin tin, is cooked through in just 20 minutes.
 
Beet-autiful! 
Picked up on the hint yet?  Am I obvious enough?
If you have, good for you.  Give yourself a nice pat on the back, and an extra little cake, while you’re at it.
 
These perfect chocolate cakes are made with beets!
Beets!
And honey and maple syrup!
And olive oil!
And whole-wheat flour!
Don’t be alarmed.  If you don’t like beets, I promise (pinky swear?) that you will love these cakes; the beets are undetectable.  
Beets are naturally very sweet (your sugar might actually come from beets, not sugar cane…), and carry a beautiful earthy note that is indescribable.
That very earthy note is what makes these cakes interesting; it’s a certain je-ne-sais-quoi that will leave your tastebuds humming with delight and wonder.
 
I personally love beets, so I grated mine slightly larger so I would occasionally get a little beet chunk in the cakes.  
 
My silver spoon has fed me good…” -Frank Ocean
These are too damn delicious to be as healthy as they are.  I made a light chocolate ganache to send them over the top.
 
Obviously, they’re health food.

 

Bears.  Beets.  Battlestar Galactica.
Chocolate Honey-Beet Cakes
adapted from Thyme, originally adapted from Green Market Baking Book
ingredients:
1 cup grated cooked beets (I used roasted beets; I needed about 2 medium sized beets)
4 tablespoons butter, browned
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup honey
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons maple syrup
1 egg plus 1 egg yolk
(big) splash vanilla extract
1/2 cup white-whole-wheat flour (you could use regular old AP here)
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup plus 2 heaping tablespoons cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  
Whisk the olive oil, honey, butter, maple syrup, vanilla, and egg and egg yolk together until a thick emulsion forms.  
Dump the dry ingredients on top of the wet, with the baking soda added last, so it is on top.  
Mix until just combined, then fold in beets.  
Pour into prepared pan (I used this one, you could certainly use an 8 or 9 inch round tin or mini muffin tin), and bake for 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean (this cake is so moist that you want to be sure to cook it all the way through).
 
For the ganache that you see, I actually made a regular old ganache, but swapped low-fat milk for heavy cream to make it a bit lighter.  I also whisked in about 3 tablespoons of honey to keep it shiny and smooth.  It worked wonderfully!  
I then topped the still-warm ganache with Swedish pearl sugar.