November 25, 2014December 27, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Bring It

T-minus 2.

My favorite holiday is in two (2!) days, and I’m headed home this evening. Boy, am I excited.
(This is definitely me. My dad sent me this link; no explanation needed.)

I’ve got my menu ready and my cooking pants on (never mind that I have a lab report and a paper due Wednesday…), and I’m so excited to see my kitties and puppy and family.
Unfortunately, I have a ton of work over this break (which is technically not a break for UChicago students), because my professors are ~~really f@&#*%g~~ pretty jerky this quarter.
Yay for my school. Yay for uni. Yay.

{Wait but also, guys, I’m officially a sister of the Epsilon Phi chapter of Kappa Alpha Theta at UChicago. TLAM!}

I made this crepe cake for a sisterhood event earlier in the fall, but have been too busy to share it.
Luckily, I’ve gotten my shit together in time for Thanksgiving, because this would be a perfect holiday dessert.

You can make it ahead; it’s no bake and doesn’t take up the all important oven; it’s pumpkin and cream cheese and very impressive with its many, many layers; most importantly, it’s delicious and popular with all.

The cake is made up of spicy pumpkin crepes, lacy thin and crispy on the edges, layered with thick, creamy cream cheese frosting, salty and sweet all at once. The top is dusted with a tiny bit of gold luster dust (Black and Gold, duh), which makes it all the more elegant.

This is a showstopper dessert, and so easy to make ahead. It’s the best parts of a pumpkin cake, but much more refined and no-bake to boot. If you want big bang for your effort and a pumpkin dessert that’s not pumpkin pie, this is the cake for you.

Pumpkin Cream Cheese Crepe Cake
makes 1 8-inch round cake
crepe portion adapted from Take a Megabite

ingredients:
for the crepes:
4 cups milk
4 tablespoons butter, melted
4 eggs
1 cup pumpkin puree
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3 cups flour
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon ginger
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

for the cream cheese frosting:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, soft
1 package (8 ounces) cream cheese, room temp
4 cups powdered sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1-2 tablespoons cream or half and half
Gold luster dust, if desired

directions:
Make the crepes: place milk, melted butter, eggs, pumpkin, and vanilla in a large bowl or a large blender canister.
Use an immersion blender or vigorous whisking to completely combine the wet ingredients; they should be homogeneous.
Add in the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and spices.
Whisk or blend on high until completely smooth.
Allow batter to rest for 20 minutes.
When ready to cook, swipe a small amount of butter onto a nonstick 8-inch skillet.
Pour 2-3 tablespoons of batter into the pan, swirling to evenly and thinly coat.
Peek under crepe after 45 seconds-1 minute; if it’s lightly browned, use a thin spatula and your fingers to flip the crepe.
Allow both sides to cook to a light brown, then remove from heat to a cooling rack.
Repeat until all the batter is gone; you should get somewhere around 18-24 crepes.
The crepes can be stored, completely cooled, wrapped in plastic wrap for up to 1 day.
To make the cream cheese frosting, place butter in the bowl of a stand mixer.
Beat on high speed for 3 full minutes until light and fluffy.
Add in the cream cheese and beat for 2 more minutes.
Scrape the sides of the bowl and add in the powdered sugar and salt.
Mix slowly until the sugar is combined; add half and half 1 tablespoon at a time until the frosting is think and smooth but still spreadable; use right away.
Spread each crepe with 1 1/2 tablespoons of frosting; stack them all up on a cake stand or other serving platter.
For the top crepe, place the remaining frosting in a piping bag fitted with a star tip.
Pipe concentric circles all over the top of the cake, and dust with gold luster dust if desired.
Chill for 30 minutes in the fridge; serve slightly chilled.

August 28, 2014September 11, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Forêt Noire

Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.

Something from far off it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.

–Pablo Neruda, Lost in the Forest

I can’t write the introduction to this post.
I have tried, deleted, tried again. And again.

It was my dad’s birthday that prompted this cake.
So, I guess I’ll start with that: happy birthday, again, Daddy.

I was going to begin by talking about how all news seems like bad news these days;
how this blog is not meant to discuss politics but rather butter and sugar;
and yet how stiflingly hard it is to read the paper,
to come to the realization of just how many things are going so very wrong on our planet;
how such current events leave me, as far as writing goes, speechless—wordless—frozen.

This opening, as you can probably intuit from the summary, was wholly incongruous with the happy, cheery, pink cake I’m currently shoving in your face.

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It’s like the New York Times—and Bill Hayes—read my mind.
If you’re a usual reader, you know that I’ve been struggling of late to put the pen to the page.
So much white space between photographs.

I’m practicing non-writing, I suppose, but I’m still in the stages of denial.
I want to write, I can and should write, but I feel I have little to say.
My life is just so goddamn monotonous these days (which, if I’m being truthful, I love. That’s what summer is for) and I mostly spend my time, apart from baking, which you already hear about, reading Game of Thrones or working out or or pining after N, and life around the world, as I have just mentioned, is terrifyingly depressing—death and doom seem inescapable.

These things do not a lively blog post make, friends.

This space begs to be filled and yet frustratingly sucks up the feeble, meager lines that I proffer up.
It demands real writing, real words, and even when I concede to “non-writing”, a few snippets here and there, nothing serious, it whispers in my ear, sending shivers and doubt up my spine… don’t you think they’ll get bored without words?

For what is this blog without words?
Confessions of Confection.

It’s an empty shell of what I envision it to be; La Pêche Fraîche started because I had so much to ~~complain about~~ say, and because people generally only respond favorably to such whining when it is accompanied by dessert.
(I’m kidding, of course—in reality, the whining came after the desserts.)

Most of the posts of which I am proudest (oh, say, here, here, here, or here, if you want to hear me ~~toot my horn~~ tout my writing. Toot toot) came pouring out with a tumble of emotions and little in the way of the forceful tugging I now must do.

Fo now, each paragraph is another stubborn tooth to be pulled from the bleeding gums of my mind, and rather than satisfying as it is laid on the page, it leaves a gaping hole of limp disappointment.
(My recent experience with wisdom teeth has given me an exquisitely clear understanding of such pain.)

Ugh stop looking at me like that.
I knew I shouldn’t have used that analogy.

And look here, now, somehow I have managed to produce more volume of self-indulgent grousing than literally everything else I have written lately combined.
How very me.

But there is cake, people!
Not just cake, there is a great feat of sugar that demands to be spoken about, a great big fat pink elephant in the ~~room~~ post.

This is a cake for crazy people.

I’m serious. But let me explain.

Before I even try to explain the ridiculousness of this cake, scroll way, way, way down to the recipe/ingredient list.
That should give you a head start on shaking your head.

I think I have carpal tunnel just from typing that monstrosity.

7 main components, here:
mocha mayonnaise cake
quark whipped cream filling
cherries marinated in kirsch
chocolate cherry macarons, filled with
whipped ganache
cherry italian meringue buttercream
ganache glaze

Yaaaaaagh.

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If you’re anything like my brothers, hearing the word mayonnaise in the same sentence as cake will cause you to wrinkle your nose, put your fork down, and push your plate away à la Calvin and Hobbes.

But!
Mayo is just emulsified eggs, oil, salt, and vinegar (I should know, I just made a huge batch with my immersion blender for my dad’s birthday dinner. I added black truffle oil. Divine!), which are already in a cake.
The addition of mayo makes this cake super tender and soft, with a light, tight crumb. Perfect for sky-high layers.
Adding strong coffee makes the cake deeply chocolaty, with a bitterness that offsets the rest of the sugar marvelously.

The quark whipped cream filling tastes like a lightened up cheesecake, slightly tangy and quite fluffy.
It’s far more interesting than the classic whipped cream, which is a bit one note.
(Quark is like a cross between a farmer’s cheese and crème fraiche, and you could sub half as much cream cheese without the need to press the moisture out.)

In Germany, it’s illegal to call a cake Black Forest (Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte) if it doesn’t contain kirsch (kirschwasser).
With that in mind, fat, fresh cherries, pitted and halved and seeping sweet red juice are gently cooked in kirsch and sugar, until they have soaked up all the flavor and released their juice.
The resultant boozy cherries are drained of their juice and nestled in the whipped cream along with chocolate macaron shells; the juice is gently brushed over the cakes to add extra moisture.

Then, the juice is reduced to a sticky, bright red kirsch syrup, which is poured into a whipped, glossy Italian meringue buttercream, adding a blush of color and delicate kirsch/cherry flavor.

Chocolate macarons, crisp on the outside, yield to reveal fudgy whipped bittersweet chocolate ganache and a rubied center of tart cherry jam, which is a fruity suprise.

Fresh cherries, bittersweet chocolate glaze, more whipped quark, and the macs top this cake; the decoration reminds me of a banana split or an ice cream cake—cute and whimsical!

You can make it in steps: up to a week before assembling, make the cake layers. Wrap them in a double layer of plastic wrap and a layer of aluminum foil and freeze them; take them out of the freezer and put them in the fridge the day before you assemble the cake.
Make the cherries in kirsch up to 3 days before; just store them in the juice, then drain them the day you assemble the cake to brush the layers and reduce to syrup.
Make the macaron shells up to a week before; store them in an airtight container and assemble a few cookie sandwiches for decorating the day before you put the cake before, so they can age and mingle with the fillings.
Make the ganache the day before you assemble the cake; to whip it for the macaron filling, simply let it come completely to room temperature before beating; for the glaze, gently warm it in 5 second bursts in the microwave until it is melted and shiny again.
The day of, drain the cherries and brush the cake layers with the unreduced juice. Reduce it to syrup and make the cherry Italian meringue buttercream.
Whip up your super quick quark filling (say that 10 times fast), and build your cake.

If you plan ahead, you can do it.
Or, pick and choose which components you want to use!
For a simpler cake, use the chocolate layers, the filling, and the cherries: dust the top layer with powdered sugar and you still have quite an impressive cake.

I expect there are a fair amount of people who have closed the tab and are now wondering whether it is ethical to continue reading, thereby encouraging the continuation of, a blog run by a mentally unstable individual.

This cake is an undertaking. But dare I say it’s worth it?
My family—especially my dad, who made a quiet, simple request for black forest or German chocolate and received this enormous pink confection in answer—loved it.

It’s a project, and it will leave your kitchen dusted with a fine layer of cocoa powder and flour and splattered with enough cherry juice to look like a murder scene.
But it also leaves you with a boozy, chocolaty, pink cake, surrounded by happy, contented people, and that, my friends, is reason enough alone.

Gâteau de Forêt Noire
cake portion adapted from Sweetapolita
macaron portion adapted from Annie’s Eats
cherries in kirsch adapted from Call me Cupcake
makes 1 8-inch 3-layer cake

ingredients:
for the chocolate cherry macarons:
100 grams confectioner’s sugar
100 grams almond flour
12 grams cocoa powder
170 grams egg whites, divided into two 85 gram portions
120 grams sugar
80 grams water
pinch salt
whipped ganache, recipe below
good quality cherry jam

for the chocolate ganache (whipped and glaze portions):
100 grams (3.5 ounces) dark chocolate, chopped
100 grams (1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons) heavy cream
1 tablespoon corn syrup (optional)
pinch salt

for the mocha mayonnaise cake:
170 grams (3/4 cup, 1 1/2 sticks) butter, soft
460 grams (2 cups packed) brown sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons kosher salt
2 egg yolks
2 eggs
220 grams (1 3/4 cups) flour
90 grams (3/4 cup) cocoa powder
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
180 mL (3/4 cup) milk
180 mL (3/4 cup) coffee
60 mL (1/4 cup) mayonnaise

for the cherries in kirsch:
275 grams cherries, weighed pits and all
1/4 cup kirsch
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

for the cherry Italian meringue buttercream:
reserved (reduced) cherry kirsch juice, recipe above
2 egg whites
115 grams (a smidge more than 1/2 cup) sugar
big pinch kosher salt
30 grams (2 tablespoons) water
220 grams (2 sticks, 1 cup) butter, diced and cool
1 drop red food coloring, optional

for the whipped quark filling:
227 grams (8 ounces) quark
360 mL (1 1/2) cups heavy cream
100 grams (3/4 cup) powdered sugar

to assemble:
fresh cherries

directions:
First, make the macarons (can/should be done 1 day ahead): sift confectioner’s sugar, almond flour, and cocoa powder together.
Discard the large pieces of almond flour that don’t fit through the sieve.
Add one 85 gram portion of egg whites to the sifted ingredients and stir very well until a thick, uniform paste forms; set aside.
Prepare 2 baking sheets with parchment and a pastry bag with a large round tip; preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Place the other 85 gram portion of egg whites into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment with a pinch of cream of tartar or a drop of vinegar.
Place the sugar, water, and a pinch of salt into a small pot; fit the mixture with a candy thermometer.
Begin to heat the syrup on medium heat; when the temperature reaches 180 degrees, begin to whip the egg whites; when it reaches 220, the egg whites should be approaching soft peaks; at 240, they should be at soft peaks.
Remove the syrup from the heat when it reaches 245 degrees F; pour it, carefully, into the whipping egg whites, being careful not to splatter the whisk attachment with hot syrup (aim for the side of the bowl).
Allow the meringue to whip until it is glossy and stiff-peaked, about 3 minutes.
Take 1/4 of the meringue and stir it vigorously into the almond paste, to lighten the stiff paste somewhat.
Add the rest of the meringue and carefully begin to fold the mixture together.
Stop the macaronage when the mixture flows like lava/makes a ribbon/reabsorbs a blob after 10 seconds.
Fill the prepared pastry bag and pipe out small macarons on both of the sheets.
Place the first sheet in the oven and reduce the temperature to 325 degrees F.
Bake until a cookie lifts off of the sheet cleanly, about 12-15 minutes.
Raise the oven temperature once more and place the second sheet in the oven; reduce the oven temp and bake as before.
Allow the cookies to cool completely.
Make the ganache: place the chocolate, corn syrup, and salt in a bowl and heat the cream to just before boiling, either in the microwave or on the stovetop.
Once the cream is hot, pour it over the chopped chocolate and leave it to sit for 2 minutes.
Gently begin to whisk; continue until the mixture comes together in a glossy, shiny glaze.
Place half of the ganache aside for glazing the finished cake and the other half in the fridge to cool.
Once the chilled portion is significantly thickened and cool to touch (but not solid!), whip it with a hand or stand mixer until it is fluffy and lightened in color, about 2 minutes.
Set aside 1/2 of the shells to layer inside the cake; pair up all the other shells.
To fill the cookies, place a heaping teaspoon of ganache on one shell; gently scoop out a tiny divot in the center and fill it with 1/4-1/2 teaspoon of cherry jam.
Sandwich the cookies and refrigerate overnight before eating or using in the cake.
Make the mocha mayonnaise cake: grease and flour 3 8-inch round pans and preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Place soft butter, kosher salt, and brown sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat on high for 5 minutes, until very light and shiny.
Add in the egg yolks and eggs and beat for another 3 minutes; scrape the sides of the bowl.
Whisk flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and baking powder together.
Whisk coffee, milk, and apple cider vinegar together.
With the mixer running on medium, add in the wet and dry ingredients, alternating and beginning with dry.
Beat for 30 seconds after everything is added to ensure homogeneity.
Scrape the sides of the bowl and add in the mayonnaise; mix on low speed for 30 seconds until the mixture is homogeneous once more.
Portion out the batter into the pans and bake for 22-25 minutes, until a tester comes out with only a few crumbs and the tops are springy.
Remove from oven and let cool 10 minutes in the pans, then turn out of the pans and cool completely.
Make the cherries in kirsch: halve and pit cherries and place in a sauce pot with kirsch, vinegar, and sugar.
Cook on medium heat for 15 minutes until the cherries have released their juice and are soft but not mushy.
Remove from heat and allow to cool completely.
Once cool, drain the cherries from the juice (save the juice!!).
Poke holes all over the bottoms of the cakes (these will become the tops) with a toothpick, then gently brush with a little of the cherry juice—you want to flavor the cake, but not soak it.
Place the remaining cherry juice back into the pot and heat over low heat until simmering; allow to reduce to 3 tablespoons of liquid, about 2/3 of the original volume; reserve this syrup.
Make the cherry Italian meringue buttercream: place egg whites in the bowl of a stand mixer.
Place water, salt, and sugar in a small pot over medium heat fitted with a candy thermometer.
When the temperature reaches 180 degrees, begin to whip the egg whites; when it reaches 220, the egg whites should be approaching soft peaks; at 240, they should be at soft peaks.
Remove the syrup from the heat when it reaches 245 degrees F; pour it, carefully, into the whipping egg whites, being careful not to splatter the whisk attachment with hot syrup (aim for the side of the bowl).
Allow the meringue to whip until it is glossy and stiff-peaked and cooler, about 4 minutes.
Add in the cool butter a tablespoon at a time, whipping on high speed the entire time.
Whip until the mixture becomes fluffy and shiny and homogeneous (keep whipping if it appears to curdle—you simply haven’t beaten it long enough, don’t worry!), about 4 minutes.
Drizzle in the reduced cherry syrup and (optionally) add 1 drop of red food coloring if you want the frosting more pink than purple.
Make the quark whipped cream filling: On a bed of paper towels (use 3 on the bottom and two on top) scrape 3/4 of the quark and press down lightly; the towels will absorb the excess moisture.
Meanwhile, begin to whip the heavy cream and powdered sugar, with a whisk attachment or an immersion blender.
Once the whipped cream reaches stiff peaks, gently mix in the thickened quark.
Place in the fridge to cool and thicken before assembling the cake; reserve 1/3 cup for piping on top of the cake.
To assemble, place the first cake layer (juice soaked side up) on a cake stand.
Add half of the remaining quark filling , spreading so that the center is depressed; arrange half of the drained cherries in a single layer on the cake.
Top with the next layer; spread the rest of the whipped cream but reserve 1/4 cup.
Top with the rest of the cherries and a layer of the reserved macaron shells.
Spread the reserved 1/4 cup of whipped cream over the macaron shells and top with the last cake layer.
Refrigerate for at least 20 minutes before crumb coating.
Spread on a thin crumb coat of the cherry frosting, being careful to seal in the whipped cream between the layers.
Refrigerate for at least 20 more minutes.
Frost the cake with the rest of the cherry frosting, then place back in the fridge.
Gently heat the reserved ganache, either in a double boiler or in the microwave in 5 second bursts.
Heat until it has loosened up again, whisk until it is shiny and glossy.
Remove the cake from the fridge and carefully drizzle the ganache around the edges.
Place the reserved quark whipped cream in a pastry bag fitted with a star tip and pipe 8 stars evenly around the cake.
Place 4 fresh cherries on 4 of the stars and 4 assembled macarons on the others.
Enjoy your hard earned cake!

August 2, 2014August 2, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Rouge

You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.

–Anna Akhmatova

Color of passion, anger, love, luck. Of seduction and danger and courage. Of fire and blood and the book on my bedside table.
(A Feast for Crows, obviously.)

Color of summer—raspberries, strawberries, cherries, red currants, tomatoes.
Just take a peek over on the right sidebar for proof.
(This post will soon be added to my little collection of summer’s bounty.)

Walking through the farmer’s market last weekend, ruby jewels in two forms caught my eye: lovely tart little red currants and fat, sweet cherry tomatoes in a veritable rainbow of shades.
This weekend, I’m hoping to get my grubby paws on some of the local corn that’s just now bursting onto the scene.

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Lots of photographs today.
I simply couldn’t bear to cut any more from the hundreds I took; I was taken with the drama of the scene.

I took these photos during a fortuitous break in the rain on a grey day; it started drizzling again right as I packed up and came inside.
I stepped on a snotty, slimy slug while shooting. Panic and terror-stricken screaming ensued.
Still, I persevered, and I’m quite ~~smug~~ pleased with the outcome.

I just love how striking les fruits rouges are, both under the snowy blanket of powdered sugar and unadorned, in all their ripe, natural, juicy glory. (I do not love, however, how crooked my favorite cake stand is. I am realizing why all my photos with this thing seem so off-kilter. Sigh.)

I’ve been struggling to write lately. I have photos, recipes, ideas to share and the words refuse to come.
So I’ll let these photos, of which I am so proud, speak for themselves.
I’m doing my best to be patient with this temporary frustration.
These things always come to pass.

Victoria sponge cake—a classic for a proper English tea.
Layers of fluffy sponge, filled with jam and whipped cream.

Here, the typical sponge cake is kept dead simple: eggs, sugar, butter, flour, salt, baking powder.
Tangy and rich goat cheese cream fills the center, accented with strawberry preserves and fresh strawbs.
Finally, the cake is piled high with des fruits rouges and showered with plenty of powdered sugar.

The cake gets better as it ages, as it soaks up the flavors and moisture and everything softens and melds together.
I won’t lie, this kind of sponge cake is not as moist as, say, a nice devil’s food cake, but then again, it’s not supposed to be.
It’s supposed to be eaten with a nice spot of tea, little chickens. Serve it with good, hot, black tea (this tea from Taylors of Harrogate is my absolute, unequivocal favorite) with cream and a touch of sugar.

Cheers, loves.

Victoria Sponge Cake
cake portion adapted from Leite’s Culinaria
makes 2 6-inch layers

ingredients:
for the cake:
6 ounces (12 tablespoons) butter, very soft
6 ounces (3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons) sugar
pinch of kosher salt
3 eggs, room temperature
6 ounces (1 1/3 cup) all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder

for the goat cheese cream:
3 ounces goat cheese, soft
5 ounces (1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons) sour cream
3 ounces (3/4 cup) powdered sugar
2 ounces (1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons) powdered milk

to assemble:
1/4 cup good quality strawberry preserves
strawberries, cherries, redcurrants, etc.
powdered sugar

directions:
Make the cake: preheat oven to 350 degrees F and liberally grease and flour 2 6-inch round pans.
Beat butter, salt, and sugar together until very fluffy and nearly white, about 4 minutes.
Add in the eggs one at a time and beat for 5 more minutes on high speed, until the mixture is totally smooth (it will be somewhat runny).
Sift the flour and baking powder over the mixture and gently fold in; mix until the batter is homogeneous.
Divide the batter into the two pans and smooth the top.
Bake for 25-30 minutes until the golden and the center is springy—a tester should come out clean.
Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 10 minutes in the pans; once partially cooled, flip onto racks and allow to cool completely.
Once your cakes are cooled, make the goat cheese cream: beat goat cheese and sour cream together until smooth and soft, about 3 minutes.
Sift the sugar and powdered milk over the mixture and stir together until homogeneous.
Level the cakes if need be, then spread the bottom layer with strawberry jam.
Spread the cream over (be generous, it will spill over but its moisture is needed in the cake) top and layer with some sliced strawberries.
Place the top layer on and decorate with fruits as desired; finish with a heavy handed sprinkle of powdered sugar.
Eat as part of a proper tea!

July 25, 2014August 28, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Take the Cake

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

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.

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.

After 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.

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.

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

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.

April 29, 2014July 3, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Chuchote

Soft does spring press on,
by briefest glimpses of the sun.
And eagerly do buds break,
warm winds whisp’ring them awake.
Quiet pinks and palest yellows
shade the undersides of petals.
The breeze is scented, sweet,
caressing the world out from its sleep.
Life unfurls far as the eye can see;
birds and blooms fill every tree.
Warbling melodies call from above,
honeyed confessions of new love.

–4/21/14

Mother Nature has spread her arms, her wings, and enveloped my world in a deeply perfumed embrace.

I am humbled by and grateful for the beauty of spring.
Winter brought me to my knees, yet the long, dark months have served to make the sunshine even brighter, the flowers even sweeter, the buds even more promising.
I am doing my best to welcome life back in.

Forgive me my long absence, I am aware that a week is an uncharacteristically long break between posts.

Life has been crazy lately.
Assignments, papers, reading, problem sets, events, deadlines, on top of socializing and trying to let loose– they all pile up like pollen, itching the OCD part of my brain and making it sneeze with fear and dissatisfaction.
As I was falling asleep last night (around 3 am…), I tried to remove myself from the pile-up, to look at it from an external point of view.
To let my mind float up, extended from my body, and look down at myself and the growing number of duties beside me.

It did not go as planned. You know what happened? I had a panic attack.
I couldn’t help but think about all the things that were due, all the sleep I wouldn’t get, all the little things I do and have done wrong.
How I can’t and won’t be able to do everything I need and want to.
How I have over-scheduled myself, over-promised my time, over-stretched my mind.
How fine of a wire I am balancing on, eternally teetering between breakdown and triumph.

I know it’s a part of life to be challenged and be forced to keep on pushing through; I’m trying enormously to keep that in mind.
The funny thing is how well so many things have been going. I’m happy.
Life is so so good. Busy can be good.

We live in a busy, productive society– but sometimes I just feel terribly overwhelmed by the culture of stress that prevails, especially here at UChicago.
It’s easy to fool yourself into thinking that you should be busy busy busy all the time, but it’s not sustainable.
I’m glad I only have 10 weeks of this, because I’m not sure how much longer I could realistically survive.

Downtime is just as important as the pep and the pomp.

This crepe cake celebrates the fresh berries that are beginning to call out in the markets.
By late spring, our baskets will be brimming with the first crop of sweet, juicy local raspberries.

The ones that topped this cake were perfect, but they came from California.
Those lucky bastards are spoiled with luscious local produce all year long.

The cake itself is a stack of simple crepes that melt on your tongue, thin and lacy with crisped edges, spread with sweet, rich mascarpone cream and sea-salted caramel with just a whisper of darkness, a near-burnt profundity that adds complexity; tart, juicy raspberries and a shower of powdered sugar complete it.

The sum is greater than the parts– it ends up looking quite fancy for being a no-bake affair!

My friends and I each enjoyed a slice as we sat around a table catching up.
A wonderful slice of relaxation.

A few tips and tricks for making this beautiful cake:

Don’t panic while making crepes!
Invest in a nonstick skillet– a small one will do.
Even if you avoid nonstick for fear of flaking coating, it’s worth having such a skillet for making crepes.
You won’t really need to butter your pan, which prevents weird fried edges and allows the crepes to cook evenly.
It also takes the hassle out of flipping the crepes– just slide a spatula or fork around the edges, and carefully pick up the crepe with your fingers to flip it quickly.

Keep your heat on medium-high.
Too cold, and the crepes will take forever and will not brown correctly.
Too high, and you’ll get bubbles that eventually burn.

Do the prep in pieces.
Make the crepes a day (or two!) ahead. Lay them out on a baking sheet with parchment in between the crepes, wrap them in saran wrap and refrigerate them.
Make the caramel the night before– just leave it on the counter in a bowl to cool.
Make the mascarpone cream right before you use it; it takes all of five minutes to whip together.

Once the main components are all in place, it’s a breeze to stack up. Methodical, really.
A spoonful of cream, a drizzle of caramel, another lacy crepe.
Rinse and repeat.

Caramel Mascarpone Crepe Cake
crepe portion adapted from Poires Au Chocolat

ingredients:
for the crepes:
50 grams (4 tablespoons) butter, melted
220 grams (1 3/4 cups plus 1 tablespoon) flour
pinch of sea salt
4 eggs
400 mL (1 2/3 cups) milk
100 mL (7 tablespoons) water

for the salted caramel:
100 grams (1/2 cup) sugar
30 grams (2 tablespoons) water
1 tablespoon corn syrup
1/2 teaspoon flaky sea salt
90 grams (1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons) heavy cream
25 grams (2 tablespoons) butter

for the whipped mascarpone:
228 grams (1 cup) mascarpone
180 grams (3/4 cup) heavy cream
115 grams (1 cup) powdered sugar
tiny pinch sea salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

to assemble:
1-2 pints raspberries
powdered sugar

directions:
Make the crepes: combine all ingredients in a blender canister or in a large bowl with a hand blender.
Blend on high for 1 full minute, until no lumps remain.
In a hot nonstick, 7-inch skillet, brush a tiny (1/2 a pea) amount of butter.
Pour 1/4 to 1/3 cup of batter into the skillet and swirl quickly to create an even, thin layer of batter.
Allow to cook for 3 minutes, until golden and browned, then flip the crepe with a spatula and your fingers.
Allow the other side to cook for 2 minutes, then remove the crepe and place on a parchment lined baking sheet.
Continue to make crepes until all the batter is gone; you should have 20 or so crepes.
After you have filled up one layer of crepes on the baking sheet, place another layer of parchment on top, then continue to layer crepes as they are made.
Next, make the caramel: combine sugar, water, corn syrup, and salt in a small pot.
Heat on medium-high heat, swirling but not stirring, until a deep golden color.
Remove the pan from the heat and, moving very quickly, whisk in the heavy cream and butter.
Whisk until very smooth, then pour into a container and set aside to cool; caramel will be exceedingly hot.
While the caramel cools, make the mascarpone mixture: beat mascarpone until very soft, then add in the heavy cream and beat until fluffy.
Add in the salt, powdered sugar, and vanilla, and beat until mixture is light and fully combined; there should be no lumps.
To assemble the cake, layer the first crepe with a spoonful of mascarpone and a heavy drizzle of caramel.
Layer the next crepe on, carefully and gently smoothing on the mascarpone and caramel.
Stack up all the crepes, saving a small amount of mascarpone for the top crepe; spread it thinly and use it to attach the raspberries.
Dust with powdered sugar, and serve in generous wedges.

November 30, 2013December 3, 2013 by Rachel Sally

감사합니다

I’m thankful for home.

I’m grateful to be surrounded by love and warmth and family.

This brief respite has been much needed, and much appreciated.

It saddens me to leave (tomorrow), but I am comforted with the knowledge that I will be back in just a few short weeks.

I love my home: my house, my friends, my family, my town.

I love this place.

I was dearly missing this place.

I thought I’d share some snapshots of home with you; the first photo is of my beloved bed, where I haven’t been spending enough time this break. (Too many things to do! People to see! Places to go!)

You get a preview of our holiday cards (blech) and some cute photos of my kitten and pup.

Also, THANKS GUYS, for being awesome and reading these stupid posts of mine on this silly little blog.

You rock. Thanks for that. I sure do appreciate you.

Now, food.

Thanksgiving Menu 2013:

Roasted roots: herbed sweet potatoes, parsnips, and carrots with honey mustard aioli (GF)

Roasted brown butter and maple Brussels sprouts (GF)

Honey glazed turkey with giblet gravy (GF)

Maple and apple cranberry sauce (GF)

Cornbread stuffing with spiced sausages, pecans, sage, and celery (GF)

Goat cheese, buttermilk, and olive oil mashed potatoes (GF)

Whole wheat butternut squash mac and cheese

Mixed green salad with pomegranates, walnuts, shaved fennel, apples, and Parmesan with pomegranate dressing (GF)

Butterscotch and thyme apple pie (GF)

Maple kefir brûlée tart (GF)

Pumpkin roll with Frangelico and mascarpone whipped cream, brown butter glaze, chopped pecans (GF)

Yes, I made all of that myself. Boy, was it a marathon. A very, very, very, long and delicious haul.

My photos were all very rushed and poorly lit; I had hoped to show you pictures of all the gluten free goodies I made, but no such luck.

At least I got a picture of the pumpkin roll cake… So I can torture you with yet another pumpkin recipe!

This will be the last pumpkin recipe of the year.

It’s one to remember: light, fluffy pumpkin sponge cake rolled around mascarpone and maple whipped cream, topped with brown butter and Frangelico glaze and chopped pecans.

You might just be inspired to pull out one last can of pumpkin.

Happy Thanksgiving (weekend), y’all.

Pumpkin Roll Cake

ingredients:
for the cake:
powdered sugar, for sprinkling on towel
90 grams (3/4 cup) flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, ginger, pepper, coriander
pinch salt
3 large eggs
200 grams (1 cup) sugar
2/3 cup pumpkin puree
for the filling:
1 cup whipped cream
1 cup mascarpone
¼ cup powdered sugar
2 tablespoons maple syrup
pinch salt

for the glaze:
4 tablespoons butter, browned
2/3 cup powdered sugar
1/3 cup powdered milk
2 tablespoons maple syrup
2 teaspoons Frangelico (optional)

For garnish:
Chopped pecans

Directions:
For the cake, preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour a sheet pan very well; line with parchment paper.
Sprinkle a dishtowel with powdered sugar.
Whisk the flour, leaveners, spices, and salt together.
Beat the yolks and ¼ cup of the sugar very well, then stir in pumpkin.
Sift the flour mixture over the yolks and fold in gently.
Whip the egg whites and remaining sugar to stiff peaks.
Fold into the pumpkin mixture, then spread the batter out onto your prepared pan.
Bake for 15 minutes, until set.
Flip over onto towel and let cool for 5 minutes.
Gently roll up the cake and set aside to cool completely.
For the filling, beat the whipped cream to soft peaks, then gently beat in the other ingredients.
Spread onto the cooled, unrolled cake, then reroll the cake.
For the glaze, mix everything together until no lumps remain; drizzle over the rolled cake.
Garnish with chopped pecans.

November 25, 2012September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

T-Minus

Soft snowflakes are floating down outside my window as I type this, landing gently on vibrant evergreens and vivid red berries.

Something is stirring in me as I take in the peaceful scene outside…

By Jove, I think it’s the Christmas spirit.

My stomach is still bloated has barely regained its balance from Thanksgiving, and I’ve already got the next holiday on the brain.
Exactly one month!

I gots problems, people.

Why, just last weekend, I spent an entire day raking with my family, greedily anticipating Thanksgiving, and appreciating the beautiful fall weather.

How quickly times change, no?

I had a very beautiful, very long, very poetic post written to go along with this.

Only problem? I wrote it using the blogger app on my phone. What a Big Mistake that was… (Picture me shaking my fist at the blogging gods right now.)

I’m sorry that I’ve been away from the blog for some time. Thanksgiving really took it out of me, as I decided to undertake the prep and cooking of the entire meal myself.

The last few weeks, in terms of Thanksgiving prep, have gone something like this:

I ordered the turkey (no, I don’t eat meat, but my family does).

I went to my local butcher at an ungodly hour in the morning, to make sure I got my hands on some good local meat products: fresh bacon, fresh cranberry-sage sausages, and freshly-rendered lard.

I went grocery shopping (by meself) after a long basketball practice; I spent a ridiculous amount of money and could hardly push the cart, and I’m no weakling. I must have purchased 200 pounds of food that day.

I went and got the turkey from the farm, a trek that ended up being far harder than me going out and hunting a damn turkey myself. As it turns out, there are multiple “Creamery” Roads, complete with “ninety-degree turns” right near house number 200s in the nearby Slaterville Springs. Can you guess who went to the wrong one? What turned out to be the completely wrong one? Yes, me. And don’t laugh. I had to drive 5 miles in a state forest OFF-ROAD in my Volvo to get to the wrong farm, only to discover that the house numbers went from 194 to 204. What the…?!? Yes, I went 45 minutes past the correct Creamery Road. Upon this realization, I cursed, cried, and punched my steering wheel, à la Shit Girlfriends Say (go to 2:07). I’m kidding. But I did wheel my car around and speed back through the forest as fast as I could, suspension be damned.

I cooked. A lot. The menu?

Sourdough bread, gluten-free cheese crackers, cheeses, and grapes

Roasted squash, carrots, parsnips, turnips, beets, and sweet potatoes

Roasted lemony brussels sprouts with cranberries, roasted garlic, and maple-balsalmic glaze

Quince and brown-butter basted turkey

Smashed fingerling potatoes with scallions and bacon

(Gluten-free) Cornbread stuffing with sausage, apples, onions, and sage

Apple cider cranberry sauce

(Healthy) Pumpkin pie in an almond-date crust

Salted caramel apple thyme pie in a cheddar cheese and lard crust with maple whipped cream

Maple crème fraîche tart

Copious amounts of Prosecco, Champagne, and wine

It was all delicious; I was very happy. And exhausted. Still am.

The night before Thanksgiving, we celebrated my oldest brother’s birthday. I made him a French toast cake, which consisted of a brown sugar, brown butter cake filled with cinnamon cream cheese, frosted with a brown sugar swiss meringue buttercream, topped with a maple caramel glaze, and finished with candied bacon. Yowza.

I’ll be around more often; I promise. After all, I have some serious holiday baking calling my name.
P.S. I’m thankful for you guys! It seriously awes me that I even have readers. Love y’all.

French Toast Cake

for the cake:

ingredients:

3 sticks unsalted butter, browned

2 1/4 cups flour

2 1/4 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1 1/3 cup brown sugar

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

3 egg yolks (save the whites)

2 whole eggs

1/3 cup maple syrup, topped off with buttermilk to equal 1 1/4 cups

directions:

Let the butter cool until barely warm to touch. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter and flour a half sheet pan. Add the sugar, salt, and vanilla to the butter and beat until combined. Add in the eggs and egg yolks and mix to combine. Add in the maple syrup-buttermilk mixture and mix to combine. Dump in the flour and baking powder and beat until homogeneous. Spread into pan and bake for 30-35 minutes, until golden brown and springy to the touch.

for the bacon:

2 strips bacon

brown sugar, as needed

directions:

in a preheated oven, bake bacon, covered in brown sugar, until crispy, about 15 minutes; flip halfway through and coat with more brown sugar.

for the filling:
ingredients:

8 ounces cream cheese

big pinch cinnamon and nutmeg

big pinch salt

3 cups powdered sugar

1/4 cup heavy cream, or as needed

directions:

Beat all ingredients together until fluffy.

for the frosting:

ingredients:

4 ounces egg whites

4 ounces brown sugar

big pinch salt

12.8 ounces butter, room temp

directions:

In the bowl of a stand mixer, mix egg whites, salt, and sugar together. Heat over a pan of steaming water until the egg whites reach 145 degrees F, whisking all the while. Remove from heat, and beat until stiff meringue forms and bowl is cool to the touch. Slowly add in the butter, tablespoon by tablespoon, and continue to beat until the buttercream is fluffy and smooth.

for the caramel:

1/2 stick butter

1/4 cup brown sugar

big pinch salt

1/4 cup maple syrup, plus 1 tablespoon

2 tablespoons cream

directions:

Melt butter together with salt, brown sugar, and 1/4 cup maple syrup over medium heat and cook until smooth. Remove from heat and stir in cream and last tablespoon maple syrup. Use immediately or refrigerate and reheat and recook until smooth before use.

October 21, 2012September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Moody Blues

When I woke up on Friday, the sky was covered with clouds heavy with rain, and a thick fog had settled low to the ground like a lush carpet. Not the kind of morning that makes me want to jump out of my warm, cozy bed and run straight into the cold, cold rain.

The past two mornings, however, have been utterly glorious. People. Take a moment to look around and take in the beauty that is autumn. I mean, come on. The hues of the trees are so brilliantly rich, it’s hard to believe they’re real. I gather that the extra gorgeous colors are due to the strange growing season this year. I can’t get over them.

But there will be plenty more of that later on in this post.

Firstly, I bring dessert! I’ve been baking a lot lately, but have been too lazy chosen not to write about most of them; “they” being a maple, walnut, and brown butter caramel cake (whew), a nutmeg maple cream tart, coconut chocolate banana bread, potato chip and dark chocolate bark…

I did, however, save the best for the blog (but of course!).

Inspired by a classic cheese plate, I set out to make something that would reflect all the best elements of one: crunchy crackers, slightly bitter nuts, smoky meat (if you’re into that sort of thing), tangy, salty, and rich cheese, sweet fruit, and just a whisper of honey.

A few weekends ago, my family had bo ssam, a Korean lettuce wrapped, brown sugar encrusted-pork shoulder dish. Though I (obviously) did not eat the meat, I was sure to save the rendered fat and gelatin (Why?!? Because I’m weird.)

And because I just knew it would come in handy sometime soon. And it did! Clearly I am learning to utilize some sort of frugality and foresight (neither being my… um… strong suit).

This tart is comprised of a brown sugar, wheat cracker, walnut, salted butter and pork fat crust, a mascarpone and blue cheese filling, figs, pears, and a drizzle of honey.

Blue cheese tart.

The revolution is coming, people.

Granted, I couldn’t taste all of the elements together because of the pork fat, but I know it was good. I think everyone who has tasted it has had two pieces.

Victory is mine.

And because I can’t resist… Here are some autumnal pictures I’ve taken.

Blue Cheese Tart

ingredients:

1 cracker crust, baked (I used equal parts wheat crackers, graham crackers, and walnuts, added 3 tablespoons of flour, then added half a stick of melted, salted butter, about 3 tablespoons of melted pork fat and gelatin, two tablespoons of brown sugar, and a hefty pinch of salt. Mix it together, press into a buttered tart pan, and bake at 350 degrees F for 25 or so minutes, or until golden and slightly crunchy.)

8 ounces mascarpone cheese

2 ounces good quality blue cheese (taste as you go)

1 cup confectioner’s sugar (again, taste as you go. Palettes vary.)

1/2 cup cream, whipped

figs, pears, and honey, for garnish

directions:

Once the crust is cool, whip the mascarpone and blue cheese together. Add in the powdered sugar, slowly, tasting as you go, until homogeneous. Fold in the whipped cream. Spread into crust, and chill until set. Top with fig and pear slices, and drizzle with honey.