May 30, 2014May 29, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Deuxième

“Great cooking is not for the faint of heart.
You must be imaginative. Strong hearted.
You must try things that may not work.
And you must not let anyone define your limits because of where you come from.
What I say is true: anyone can cook, but only the fearless can be great.”

–Disney’s “Ratatouille“

Has it been this long, really?

How could it possibly have been this long?

Two years?

Such a funny, dual-sided feeling, this one.
I have been writing this blog for my whole life, and, at the same time, have been writing for all of two days.
How can this be?

I have stumbled and stubbed toes, sliced fingers and scrubbed dishes; I have burned wrists and knuckles and cookies countless, have made nine thousand messes and used an entire herd of cows’ butter; I have dropped cakes and dropped things on cakes, have cried and sworn and studied and laughed on the kitchen floor.

I have planned meticulously and tasted liberally and danced in sheer delight; I have spat out failures and hoarded successes.

I have moved and survived, have mourned and celebrated, have resisted and adapted, have failed and succeeded.
I have given in and given up.
I have poured my heart and soul and dozens of cups of cream into La Pêche Fraîche.

I have closed my eyes and stuck the pan in the oven and then, terrified, let go.

IMG_9697_01

And yet here I am, still standing ~~knee~~ neck-deep in flour and sugar and butter.
Here I am, crying as I write this post, laughing at myself and at this silly, silly little space.

For I may have doubted this blog, doubted my writing, my work, my thoughts, myself,
but oh, oh, I have loved, loved, loved.

IMG_9826_01

188 posts prior to this one.
65 about chocolate, 55 about cake (32 about “cakes”), 50 for cookies.
43 posts in which I whine, 7 rants, 22 “stupid,” 13 diva moments.

25 brown butter, 25 holidays.
19 winter posts, but only 11 each of spring and autumn, and a sad 7 spring.

7 starry-eyed dreams, 7 cases of the blues.

39 love and 38 crazy. Coincidence? I think not.

IMG_9768_01

I always ~~talk~~ whine about this, but the growth and development on this blog is remarkable to me.
Look through the archives, and the most tangible improvement– photography– is undeniable.
I won’t lie, some of the photos on this blog are downright scary.
Out of focus, underexposed, unappetizing coloring, terrible angles, lack of styling… Good grief.

However, I remind myself as I cringe, the bad photography is only a testament to my willingness to learn, to try new things, to start from nothing and improve myself.
I am proud of this blog, damn it.
I am proud of how much I have learned, both on the pâtisserie and photographic sides.

I am beyond happy to celebrate the start of a third year.
I have no intentions of stopping or slowing down.
I don’t know where this blog is leading me. I don’t know where my life is leading me.
I don’t even know where this post is leading me, for Pete’s sake.
Right now is a volatile and dynamic time in my life, and I’m doing my best to ride the waves, blind and fearful as I am.
Nevertheless, onwards I press, keys tapping and oven creaking.
I have faith that I shall better understand where I’m headed in the future.

I have faith that one day, I’ll figure my shit out.
And I have a strong suspicion that La Pêche Fraîche will be a part of it.

IMG_9804_01

It’s true that there have been times when I have been scared or reluctant to press “Publish.”
There have been posts so raw with emotion that I worry what my readership will think of me.

But you have stuck with me, through all the painful changes and exciting developments.
You’ve borne all my typos and rants and sappiness.
You’ve continued on with me during the slowed down times– I can see you clicking around, probably hungry for fresh material, tired of stale old crumbs. I see you. And I appreciate you.
You’ve read through too-long and too-short posts, through my geek-outs and freak-outs.

So sometimes, goes the moral of this story, you have to let go of the pan and let the oven work its magic.

Thank you, readers, for being my oven.
Thank you for demonstrating, with your clicks and searches and comments, that it is fine for me to press publish, to let go of the pan, to reveal insecurities and intimacies to an invisible audience.
It is for you that I write LPF, and it is thanks to you that it continues to grow.

Thank you for supporting this blog, replete with sugar and silliness.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. From La Pêche Fraîche– from me.

IMG_9696_01

A birthday–blog birthdays included– demands cake.
Cupcakes, cookies, pavlovas, pudding and custards, ice creams, etc., will simply not do.
It must be cake. I assure you, it must. be. cake.

Last blogiversary (May 2013) I made a brown-sugar/chocolate marble cake, filled with passionfruit curd and covered in fluffy, shiny clouds of vanilla bean Italian meringue buttercream.

The flavors were amazing– some of my absolute favorites– but I think the cake was left in the oven 3 minutes too long.
It wasn’t (ohhhh God, here it comes…) *moist* enough, in my opinion.

So though there have been many cakes in the last year, today’s cake demonstrates one way to keep your cakes from being dry and crumbly, in honor of last year’s semi-dry cake.

This year’s is a 1 bowl cake. (The frosting requires an additional pot, but whatever.)
This is a virtually fool-proof cake.

(ATTN: nerd alert. Skip to the recipe at the bottom if you don’t want to have to listen to me geek out.)

All is due to the FP FFP scheme that I have deployed here.
Fool Proof Fat Flour Paste. Sound disgusting? Well, yeah.

The idea here is that by creating a paste of the flour and fat, you coat essentially of the fat particles with starch particles.
Following this observation, then, it becomes clear that all of the starch particles are associated with fat particles, which prevents them from forming too much gluten when moistened.
Adding sugar in the form of cane sugar and milk sugar (lactose) further inhibits gluten formation.
Since all of the ingredients are thoroughly beaten together, the batter is completely homogeneous and the dry ingredients are very evenly distributed, preventing pockets of dryness or bitterness where flour or baking soda didn’t fully incorporate, and making over-beating cake batter a thing of the past.

Once moisture is added, some gluten forms, which maintains the structure of the cake.
Plenty of egg whites are added, since they contain albumen, a structural protein, that help enhance the gluten structure, ensuring the cake is sturdy, not crumbly.

Basically, by preventing too much gluten from forming, we ensure the cake is very tender and fine-crumbed, and since the fat particles have been evenly suspended in starch, as they melt, they create a very moist, soft cake.

IMG_9810_01

In sum total: this cake is a tall, four-layer beauty, with a base of malted milk cake, redolent of nutty malt and laced with a hint of salt, butter, and buttermilk. The crumb is fine, tender, and soft.

The frosting is sweet and salty vanilla Italian meringue buttercream, glossy and fluffy, swaddling the cake in buttery goodness.

Finally, and most importantly, 39 ( and exactly 39) handfuls of sprinkles are thrown, haphazardly, at the cake.
The pattern that results is organic in shape but very much artificially dyed and flavored.

Sprinkles are just so happy and fun and bright and colorful and they, along with the pink frosting, make this cake so damn twee.
Once I pull out that 1 pound jar (no, I am not kidding), there’s no stopping me.
The soles of my shoes have been tracking sprinkles everywhere since I made this cake.
I may have gotten a tad bit out-of-control. Just a tad, though.
{Send help.}

Joyeuse anniversaire, La Pêche Fraîche!

“I did then what I knew how to do.
Now that I know better, I do better.”

–Maya Angelou

IMG_9725_01

Malted Milk Birthday Cake
makes a 4 layer 6-inch cake or a 2 layer 8- or 9-inch cake

ingredients:
for the malted milk cake:
340 grams (2 3/4 cups plus 1 tablespoon) all purpose flour
50 grams (5 tablespoons) cornstarch
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
scant 1 teaspoon kosher salt
113 grams (8 tablespoons) butter, softened
100 grams (8 tablespoons) shortening
350 grams (1 3/4 cups) granulated sugar
60 grams (heaping 1/2 cup) malted milk powder
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 egg
3 egg whites
120 grams (120mL, 1/2 cup) buttermilk, cold
240 grams (240mL, 1 cup) water, cold

for the vanilla Italian meringue buttercream:
6 egg whites
3 drops (1/8 teaspoon) white vinegar
350 grams (1 1/2 cups) sugar
big pinch kosher salt
90 grams (6 tablespoons) water
660 grams (6 sticks, 1 1/2 pounds, 3 cups) butter, diced
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
drop red gel food coloring, if desired

to assemble:
sprinkles!

directions:
Make the cake: preheat oven to 350 degrees F and grease and flour 4 6-inch pans or 2 8- or 9-inch pans.
Place flour, cornstarch, baking powder, baking soda, and salt into the bowl of a stand mixer and stir to combine.
Add in the softened butter and shortening a few tablespoons at a time, mixing until a flour-fat paste forms– it will be thick like cookie dough.
Stir together the sugar and malted milk powder, then add to the flour paste, stirring slowly at first, then beating until fluffy.
Whisk together the vanilla, egg, egg whites, buttermilk, and water, then add to the batter, stirring very very slowly at first, then increasing speed to beat at high speed for 30 seconds.
Batter should be thick and creamy; if it is a tiny bit curdled, don’t worry about it.
Pour into prepared pans and bake for 35-38 minutes, until springy in the center and a tester comes out clean.
Allow to cool completely, then trim and level as needed.

Meanwhile, make the frosting: place egg whites and vinegar in the bowl of a stand mixer.
Place sugar, salt, and water in a small pot.
Begin to heat the sugar mixture on high as you whip the whites on medium speed.
When the syrup reaches 245 degrees F, your egg whites should be at firm soft peaks (almost hard peaks, but not dry).
Drizzle the syrup into the meringue with the mixer running; whip on high until cooled to body temperature.
Beat in butter one or two tablespoons at a time.
Beat buttercream on high speed until thick, glossy, and fluffy, about 4 minutes.
If buttercream is too soft, refrigerate for 20 minutes.

To assemble the cake, stack layers with 1/2-2/3 cup frosting between them.
Use about 1 cup of frosting to crumb coat and level out the cake; freeze for at least 30 minutes.
Finish the cake with the remaining frosting as desired, and add sprinkles to your heart’s content!

May 26, 2014July 3, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Crackberry

Blackberries were on sale.

Can you tell? No? Here, here, and now, here?

Summer berries are arriving. And I fully intend to ~~eat my weight~~ take advantage of them.

{In regards to the title of this post, although I’ve always been partial to my bevy of iPhones and have never indulged in a crackberry, my friend’s dad has it both ways with a Blackberry keyboard that attaches to his iPhone! How cool is that?
It’s for people who really love the keys on the Bberry (that satisfying clicking…) but who realize the superiority of the iPhone OS.
Genius.}

I can’t wait until I go back to Ithaca and am able to raid the farmer’s market.
I miss the smell, the bustle, the lake, the people.

I’m in a list-y mood, so:

Fresh, early-summer/late-spring produce that I’m craving (that you should be looking for now! now! now!):
fresh, astringent rhubarb
tart, plump raspberries and blackberries (holla!)
crisp, tender spring greens
thin, delicate stalks of asparagus
young, sugary sweet corn
early, juicy strawberries

Ways I’ll be using all this freshness:
rhubarb, maple, nutmeg compote to be served over cold, creamy greek yogurt with butter toasted oats and pecans
cardamom poached rhubarb and vanilla bean mascarpone tart
giant chopped salads full of grilled corn, balsamic roasted asparagus, hard boiled eggs, avocados, slivered almonds, and chickpeas
lemon and strawberry and black pepper ricotta tart

If you find yourself with an abundance of blackberries, as I did, make these cupcakes. I beg of you.

Blackberries are nestled into a ridiculously simple, 1 bowl no-mixer yellow cupcake batter, spiked with melted butter and plenty of kosher salt.
On top, a honey malted buttercream is drizzled with honey and finished with a single juicy blackberry.

The cupcake itself is like the softest, tenderest, and most fine-crumbed and cakelike blueberry muffin you’ve ever had (only with blackberries instead).

The frosting is not too sweet, and plenty salty.
It came about when I ran out of powdered sugar! I decided to incorporate honey into the frosting, and then I threw some malted milk powder in for body.
It benefits by the punch of honey flavor from the drizzle, so don’t skip it.

This recipe only makes 12 little cupcakes, so don’t worry about a huge yield!

IMG_9497_01

Malted Honey and Blackberry Cupcakes
cupcake portion adapted from Sally
makes 12 cupcakes

ingredients:
for the cupcakes:
1 2/3 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
heaping 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup (8 tablespoons) butter, melted and cooled
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 egg
3/4 cup milk
splash vanilla extract
1 heaping cup smallish blackberries

for the frosting:
1 cup (16 tablespoons) butter, softened
big pinch salt
1 cup powdered sugar
1/2 cup honey
1/3 cup malted milk powder

to assemble:
12 large blackberries
1/2 cup honey, for drizzling

directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Line a cupcake tin with 12 liners.
Whisk together flour, baking powder and soda, and salt.
Beat melted butter with sugars until combined, then beat in egg.
Whisk milk and vanilla in, then quickly whisk in the dry ingredients.
Gently stir blackberries into batter, then portion out with a 1/3 cup scoop into liners.
Bake for 18-22 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean.
Allow to cool completely.

Meanwhile, make the frosting: beat butter with salt until light and fluffy, about 4 minutes.
Add in the powdered sugar, honey, and milk powder and, starting slowly, beat until totally combined, about 4 minutes.
Scrape the bowl and taste– if it’s not sweet or thick enough, add more powdered sugar.

To assemble the cupcakes, pipe frosting as desired and top with a blackberry.
Drizzle about a teaspoon and a half of honey on top of each cupcake.

May 20, 2014May 22, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Mellow As the Month

Mellow as May might be, the end of this month holds much serious significance in my life.

“Many things have changed, some for the better, some the worse.

People have moved in and out of my life;

things I always took for granted as constants fell away: cliffs sheared off, leaving me teetering on the edge;

new experiences, new relationships, have nested snugly, precariously, on the crags and crannies left behind;

triumphs have been trumpeted, flags left proudly waving on distant planets;

losses have been suffered, sending me cowering in a corner, covered with tears and blood;

I survived even those which I thought I could not.”

–from Merry Happy, last year’s blogiversary post

It is my brother’s birthday (last year’s cake); it’s this blog’s birthday; it’s the anniversary of Chris’ death.

I cannot believe that in two days it will have been a year.
It will have been a whole year since that dark, blinding night.

Chris, you are dearly beloved and missed.
The people whose lives you touched are all the better for it, will never forget it, will always be grateful.

It is quiet around this blog lately. I am busy. I am trying to balance.
This, you know. I’ve made that abundantly clear with all my whining and whinging.

Still, exams be damned, count on a big, delicious cake for my second (?!!?) blogiversary, marking the third year of La Pêche Fraîche.
Also on the docket: pie and two types of cupcakes and more cake. Always, cake.

These are dark chocolate coffee pots de crème.

The recipe is so so easy and quick– no bake, gluten-free, and perfect when hit with a little extra salt and powdered sugar over top.

The recipe is from the Pioneer Woman (oh, dear, wonderful, hilarious Ree), and I’ll leave you with a link if you’d like to check it out.

Here. I skipped the orange and topped mine with unsweetened whipped cream and Maldon sea salt.

It comes with high recommendation from me and praise from my taste testers!

P.S. Like the beautiful stationary that I used in the background of this post?
Check out Mockingbird Paperie. They’re fab!

May 11, 2014September 11, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Swimmingly

Promise me
you will not spend so much time treading water and
trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget,
truly forget, how much
you have always loved to swim.

–Tyler Knott Gregson

I’ve had a shit week.

A shit fucking week. Actually, the last two weeks have been pretty fucking terrible.
I think. I find it difficult to pinpoint exactly what I want to complain about.

Clearly, something is wrong, because this is unheard of.
I can make whine out of, well, nothing.

IMG_9206_01

Busy. Running running running can’t stop. Balance. One toe, two toes, one fine wire.
Teeter, totter, fall on my ass. Climb back up and repeat with markedly diminishing grace.
It never ends, this race to the finish. I’m sick and I’m fucking tired and I don’t want to run anymore.
I don’t want to bother with the balance and the business and the busyness.

Doors are slamming shut left and right; doors slam shut right in my face. Fine. Fuck you, too.
I didn’t want to come in anyways; happy to stand in the soaking spring rain.
Happy to keep myself company in my confused, delighted misery.

The words don’t come, don’t flow, don’t exist.
The sentences have dissipated, dissolved, disappeared.
My brain is a microcosm of unproductive stagnant energy; it refuses to spit out even the shortest string of words, preferring instead to brood in dark, dank spaces that exist far below the surface.

I miss this stupid, time-consuming blog so very dearly.
Posts await, impatiently, glaringly unwritten but filled with photos and sugar and longing.
Why can’t I write? Where are the words that so easily filled pages just months ago?

I miss my family.
Even the words meant for them, short snippets of text messages, have slowed.
Can’t find what to say. Utterly foreign for a needy, demanding, over-sharer.

I miss home, but that’s a given.

Stretched too thin.
The sum total is too great: two major art/food projects, four classes spanning two majors, one new and important person, three incredibly important friends with as much on their plates as mine, one blog, one body, one mind to hold it all in.

I’m happy, I’m sad. I feel things deeply and profoundly.
Cry while listening to the Civil Wars–listen to them a lot, on repeat, even– and squeal while watching baby bunnies hop around–too few this spring, too few after a harsh winter.
Cry while thinking about my grandfather; cry and laugh, delighted, at his memorial.
Giddy while holding hands and smile while my hair is gently smoothed back from my face.
Sadness, anger, and regret all stab deeply into my stony heart, just as satisfaction, peace, and joy buoy me upwards, make me light as air and malleable as clay. Ballooned upward, only to be popped by a pin that feels more like a baseball bat.

But thank the gods that I do feel.
A very wise woman said sadness is raw skin, painful and present.
Depression is a down parka, muffling and silencing, blocking and numbing life.
Fuck those stupid fucking “Depression Hurts” commercials.
Depression dulls; sadness hurts– sadness feels.

And oh!– do I feel.

IMG_9251_01

Wake up–Friday–sheets already sticking sticking stuck to sweaty skin. Wake up, drool smeared up one cheek and into one ear; wake up feeling disgusting but alive, so alive. Sick of being refrigerated anyways. Grateful for the sweet breeze.

The heat and soupy humidity and smell of rain in the air set my soul to singing.
Spring reminds me to live. Reminds me not to let a single moment escape unnoticed, unappreciated.
Spring refuses to let me crawl back under my winter parka, refuses to let me burrow deep and hibernate.

Spring is life. Life in bloom.

Open eyes, breathe deep, smile, cry, whatever the fuck this feeling is at this moment, and embrace it. Own it.

IMG_9181_01

These photos are a little preview of an article I wrote for a fabulous food magazine here on campus, Nonpareil.

Stoked to work with them. I had a super fun interview over coffee with their lovely editor, Jenny.
Reading the article she wrote, I was a touch embarrassed but crazy flattered. It’s an exciting feeling, to be sure.

To my UChicago readers, I do hope you’ll pick up a copy when it’s published. (Translation: pick one up and read it cover to cover or else.)
To my other readers, sucks to suck. Just kidding. I’m sharing the recipe here so you can be included, too.

This cake takes the traditional American birthday cake– yellow, with chocolate buttercream, and elevates it ever so slightly.

Buttery yellow coconut cake, gently scented with coconut oil, with threads of coconut and egg yolks creating the tenderest and softest of crumbs.
Salted chocolate buttercream, whipped and fluffy, rich with deep, dark, fruity chocolate cocoa powder and enhanced with a pinch of espresso powder and three pinches of salt.
Blackberries, tart and juicy, pair gorgeously– they play a perfect foil for the heaps of butter and chocolate, and add a fresh, lively element to the cake.

You could substitute raspberries very easily, light coconut milk in the cake batter, and coconut cream in the frosting, as well.
You do, however, need the bittersweet chocolate. It’s the key to getting a truly chocolaty buttercream.

This has birthday cake written all over it.

IMG_9197_01

P.S. Happy mother’s day. My mama and my grandmas are true inspirations.
(HI GRANDMA shout out to you, I know you’re reading this. You’re the BEST and I miss you dearly. Hope you got my cards and letters– did I put enough stamps on?– Love you SO much. I will call you later today, but I expect an email about 5 minutes after you finish reading this…)

My mama inspires me to work hard; she teaches me to balance on the thin wire of life and not take shit from idiots.
She reminds me to let little things go and not let myself be bullied by the patriarchy.
She comforts me when I’m down– “fuck them”– and makes me laugh with pictures of my badly behaved cats– again, “fuck them”.
She begs me to not be like her, but I know I am my mother’s daughter.
And I am blessed for it.

I love you, mama. See you in a few weeks.

A Grown-Up Birthday Cake

ingredients:
for the yellow coconut cake:
200 grams (1 2/3 cups) flour
2 1/8 teaspoons baking powder
85 grams (6 tablespoons) butter
30 grams (2 tablespoons) coconut oil
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
200 grams (1 cup) sugar
4 egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
180 grams (3/4 cup) reduced-fat milk
3/4 cup desiccated coconut, optional

for the salted chocolate buttercream:
50 grams (2 ounces) bittersweet chocolate, chopped
315 grams (2 3/4 sticks) butter
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon espresso powder, optional
110 to 140 grams (4 to 5 cups) powdered sugar, sifted
50 grams (1/2 cup) cocoa powder, sifted
30 to 60 grams (2 tablespoons to 1/4 cup) heavy cream

to assemble:
blackberries
powdered sugar, for dusting

directions:
Make the cake: preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Butter and flour 3 6-inch pans or 2 8-inch pans
Stir together flour and baking powder.
Cream butter and coconut oil with salt for 3 full minutes.
Add the sugar in a stream and cream for 4 more minutes (set a timer).
Scrape the sides of the bowl and add in the egg yolks and vanilla extract.
Beat for 3 more minutes.
Scrape the bowl; while mixing slowly, alternate adding in the flour mix and the milk, beginning and ending with the dry.
Stir in the coconut.
Scrape the batter into the prepared pans.
Bake for 22-25 minutes, until golden and springy to the touch.
A tester should come out nearly clean, with just a few crumbs sticking to it.
Allow to cool completely.

Make the frosting: melt the chocolate in a double boiler or very gently in a microwave; set aside to cool.
Beat butter, espresso powder, and salt on high for 5-7 minutes, until very fluffy and nearly white.
While whipping, slowly stream in the cooled chocolate; beat for another minute until homogeneous.
Scrape the sides of the bowl and sift the powdered sugar and cocoa over the butter.
Starting slowly to prevent sugar explosions, beat in the sugar and cocoa.
As the frosting begins to come together, stream in the cream, starting with 2 tablespoons and increasing if the frosting is still too stiff.

Assemble the cake: level your cake layers with a serrated knife if they are uneven; brush crumbs off gently.
Place the first cake layer on a serving plate; spread with 1/4 cup of frosting and top with the second layer.
Spread the second layer with 1/3 cup of frosting and press a few blackberries on.
Smooth more frosting over the blackberries so that the layer is even, then top with the third cake layer.
Use 1/2 cup-2/3 cup of the frosting to create an even, thin crumb coat.
Refrigerate crumb-coated cake for at least 30 minutes.
Once chilled, use the remaining frosting to cover the cake as desired.

April 10, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Daisy

A LITTLE madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown,
Who ponders this tremendous scene–
This whole experiment of green,
As if it were his own!

Emily Dickinson

Mooooo.
Mooooooo.

It is spring.
I can officially, fearlessly declare for spring.
Not just based on the official date (which was March 20th, but since it was still snowing in March, that didn’t seem quite right), but on the birds chirping and the sun shining and the people smiling.
The bare skin, the promising buds, the gentle scent of life on the breeze.

The smell, the feel, the sight of spring.
I feel invigorated. Alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic.

Babies abound in spring; I imagine calving is happening (although I’m trying not to imagine the horrors of calving on a factory farm, since I wanted this post to be upbeat and happy…), little wobbly kneed newborns frolicking in the sun.
If I had a farm or a country home with a cow, I’d name her Daisy. Real original, right?
She’d be a little Jersey cow, and I’d have 2 goats and some chickens, too.

There is something very romantic about the thought of living and working on a rustic farm; it’s kind of a secret dream of mine to grow up and be Imen of Farmette.
Or maybe not so secret.

These here cows are Holsteins, though. Or at least my best approximation of them.

These cow cookies are so sweet!
When I saw this cookie cutter, I had to have it.
Now I’m dreaming of more spotted animals that I could create using the same technique.
Giraffes are my house mascot, after all…

These cows are crisp butter cookies laced with salt and vanilla, punctuated with rich, chocolatey bites.

Simple, simple cookie dough (count down from 3, then back up: 3-2-1-1-2-3) means that you can have these cookies in just about an hour, including chilling time.

There is nothing like a thick, crunchy-on-the edges sugar cookie with a soft center dipped in milk.

You absolutely must enjoy these with milk. (Is that wrong?)

Cow Cookies
makes about 20 large cookies

ingredients:
3 cups (360 grams) flour
2 sticks (225 grams) butter
1 cup (200 grams) sugar
1 egg
2 scant teaspoons kosher salt
3 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 ounce bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled
1 teaspoon (5 grams) cocoa powder

directions:
Place butter in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat on high for 2 minutes.
Add the sugar and beat for 3 more minutes.
Scrape the sides of the bowl and add the egg and salt; beat for 3 more minutes.
Add the vanilla extract and the flour and slowly mix until homogeneous.
Remove 5/6 of the batter, leaving the last 1/6 in the bowl; add the chocolate and the cocoa powder and beat until batter is uniformly colored.
On a well floured surface, roll out the vanilla dough to a thickness of 1/4 inch.
Rip random and varying sized pieces of the chocolate dough off and flatten them slightly.
Place randomly on vanilla dough and gently roll to incorporate.
Cut out cow shapes with a cutter, doing your best to fit as many cookies in as possible to avoid having to reroll the dough.
Place on a cookie sheet lined with parchment and into the freezer.
You can reroll the dough, but the cow spots will not be distinctive.
Freeze for at least 30 minutes.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F, then bake cookies for 10-12 minutes, until lightly golden.
Allow to cool; enjoy with milk.

April 6, 2014April 6, 2014 by Rachel Sally

For Sansa

Valar morghulis.
Valar dohaeris.

Finally, finally, finally.
After months of agonizing waiting, frenzied reading, and greedy marathon-watching, Season 4 of The Best Show Ever Made is here.
It premiers tonight. HBO. Don’t miss it. (Have you seen the new trailer?)

It’s April 6th. Game of Thrones. Season 4. Premiers. Tonight. Be still, my beating heart.

I recently finished A Dance with Dragons, the 5th book in the series.
George R.R. Martin takes no prisoners.
I am so transported by his writing, and the show even more so, I dare say.
I’m really glad that I watched part of the show before reading the books, which is a first, because the sets that they dream up are truly magical and fantastic, arguably better than what my imagination would have filled in.
This way, when I read the books, I can visualize the characters and their homes and country very clearly.
Normally, I’m an advocate for experiencing a series the opposite way, books first, then movie/T.V. show, but Game of Thrones is special.
It’s a cinematic masterpiece.

I’ve rewatched season 3 for the 90th time, and I have this on repeat while I ~~study~~ daydream all day and snack on these cakes.
I am so ready, y’all. I can’t even express it.

Sansa: “Lemon cakes are my favourite!”
Lady Olenna: “So we’ve heard.”

(Our first introduction to Lady Olenna, that marvelously dry and brutal little bird.)

Poor, miserable Sansa.
We can only wait for her luck to turn around and her life to stop constantly falling to pieces (or die, knowing G.R.R.M).
She really does love lemon cakes, as is made abundantly clear by all the mentions of these little treats.

In honor of her, I made dainty lemon cakes to share today.
These are incredibly quick to make, about 40 minutes from start to stuffing them in your face.
These have only seven ingredients, and no chemical leavening! If we are really trying to be accurate, these cakes come incredibly close to ingredients available in Westeros.

IMG_8905_01

The cakes are light and delicate, crumbly and ever so slightly sweet, buttery and full of lemon, the glaze sticky and luxuriously tangy.

Where the glaze sinks into the warm cake, pockets of puckery sweetness form, prompting a finger licking so as not to lose any of the precious, sticky icing.
The cakes themselves are redolent with butter, vanilla, and lemon, with a fine textured crumb and crisp edges.
I think they’d go over quite well with Lady Sansa of House Stark, and they will fit right in as a snack during the premiere tonight.

These are best served with a piping hot cup of milky black tea and the heads of your enemies.

Sansa’s Lemon Cakes
makes 15-18 small cakes

ingredients:
for the cakes:
6 ounces (1 1/2 sticks) butter, plus extra for greasing the pans
4 eggs
2/3 cup sugar
pinch sea salt
zest of two lemons
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup flour

for the glaze:
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
5 tablespoons fresh squeezed lemon juice
1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons dried milk powder
1 tablespoon butter

directions:
Make the cakes: first, brown the butter until very dark, almost burnt, then strain out the solids by pouring the butter over a mesh sieve lined with 2 paper towels.
Allow to cool, then squeeze out the extra butter in the paper towels and set aside to cool to room temperature.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and butter your mini muffin tins or mini tart shells very well with melted butter– be sure to get in all the grooves.
Place eggs in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment with a pinch of sea salt and begin to beat on high.
Meanwhile, zest 2 lemons into a bowl with the sugar and rub very well with your fingertips to release the essential oils.
When eggs are beginning to become light colored and fluffy, start to slowly stream in the lemon sugar.
Whip for about 6 minutes, until quadrupled in size and very light colored.
Pour in the vanilla and beat until combined, 10 seconds.
Sprinkle the flour on top of the eggs, then pour the cooled butter over the flour.
Gently fold batter to combine, being sure to incorporate any pockets of flour.
Batter will deflate slightly, but still be very light when you are done folding.
Scoop rounded tablespoons into your pans, filling them 2/3 of the way full.
Bake for 15 minutes, until deeply golden and springy to the touch.
Immediately turn the cakes out of their molds, and set aside while you make the glaze.

Make the glaze: place sugar, lemon juice, and water in a small pot.
Heat until boiling and bubbling, cook for 1 minute, then whisk in the milk powder and butter.
Whisk very well; glaze should be sticky but homogeneous and still pourable when hot.
Pour a teaspoon or so of glaze over each warm cake, then set aside to cool and set.

Enjoy with tea!

March 23, 2014March 23, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Sweet Relief

Then a calm, solemn pleasure steals
into your inmost mind;
a quiet aura your spirit feels,
a softened stillness kind.

–Charlotte Brontë

It’s been a bit quiet around here, unusually so. Have you missed my whining?
Probably not.

But I’m back anyways! Sort of.

Finals are over! I can now melt into a puddle of delicious laziness; I can and I promptly will.
Lord, does it ever feel good to relax.

I’m on vacation for spring break.
No, not an SBK2014-rage-your-face-off-throw-up-on-the-beach-by-day-club-hop-by-night type vacation, but a quiet, revitalizing trip.
(The former isn’t quite my style or speed, in case you hadn’t realized.)

I’m in Mexico, having an utter blast and seriously luxuriating in the heat.
I plan on getting tan (sorry mama!) and drinking a lot of piña coladas (not sorry), exploring the beach and eating a ton of fruit.
(Also, Netflix. Currently watching Pirates of the Caribbean. Um, Orlando Bloom. Swoon.)

All in all, this is shaping up to be a swell break.

¡Viva Mehico!

Since I’ve now forced my happy, warm, tropical vibes into your mind, I’ll share some with you, in the shape of a delicious cake. Huzzah!

This cake is wholly dairy-free, and could easily be made vegan with a flax egg or egg replacer and vegan chocolate for the frosting.
This cake is part whole wheat, and is chock full of good fats from the coconut and macadamia nuts.
Coconut comes in three forms: oil, meat, and milk.

Sweet bananas, creamy coconut, buttery macadamias, nutty whole wheat flour, rich, dark chocolate.

This is a one bowl cake, with an ideal texture for banana cakes: a good bite, moist and sweet, but not mushy or cloying.
The frosting is not sweet at all, and adds good bitter notes to the dessert.
This is a winner, for sure.

Some notes on the recipe:
Use brown, brown, nasty looking bananas. The browner, the better. Brown, spotty, mushy ones will be sweeter and more flavorful in the finished product, though they are gross eaten out of hand.
This is because the sugars have begun to break down, creating flavor and scent molecules which enhance the cake.

You can use 1 can of full-fat coconut milk for this recipe; refrigerate it overnight and scrape off 1/2 cup of the thick cream at the top for the ganache, then whisk the rest together and measure out 3 tablespoons of this milk for the cake.
Scraping the cream for the ganache is the same procedure as making coconut whipped cream; here are two good tutorials— just skip the whipping part.

You can easily use sweetened flaked coconut in place of the desiccated, if that’s all you can find. Use a little over 1/2 a cup to get the same amount of flavor.

Feel free to leave the macadamia nuts out; I think they add a lovely tropical flavor, but some people don’t like them.

You can use a mixture of semi-sweet or bittersweet chocolate, but definitely don’t use milk chocolate. It will be too sweet.

So hello, hello, from the tropics. I’m glad to be back– I’ll be posting, even from down here, so don’t you worry.
Just start with this cake. More on the way.

Tropical Coconut Banana Cake
cake portion adapted from The Galley Gourmet
makes 1 8×8 inch cake

for the cake:
4 ounces (approximately 1/2 cup) coconut oil, solid
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 extra large egg, at room temperature
3 medium bananas, mashed
3 tablespoons coconut milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1 cups plus 2 tablespoons white whole wheat flour
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 cup macadamia nuts, roughly chopped
1/2 cup desiccated coconut

for the ganache:
1/2 cup coconut cream
5 1/2 ounces of semi-sweet chocolate, finely chopped

directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Grease and flour an 8×8 inch pan.
Place coconut oil, salt, and sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer and beat on high for 4 minutes, until fluffy and light.
Scrape the bowl and add the egg; beat for 3 more minutes.
Scrape the bowl and add the mashed bananas; mix slowly just to start to incorporate the bananas.
Add in the coconut milk, vanilla, and vinegar and stir once or twice to start to incorporate the wet ingredients.
Dump the flours on top, then the baking powder and baking soda on top of that.
Mix on high, starting slow and working up, until batter is completely homogeneous.
Stir in coconut and macadamia nuts.
Spread batter into prepared pan and bake for 35-40 minutes, until a tester comes out clean.
To make the ganache, heat the coconut cream until bubbling, then pour over chopped chocolate.
Whisk (or blend with an immersion blender) until shiny and smooth.
Allow to cool until spreadable, then frost cake.
Allow ganache to fully set before cutting cake.

March 15, 2014 by Rachel Sally

It Gets Better

“When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me.
A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month.
I could have cried over it. I did.
Where the smoke from a chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table.
I spent my life learning to feel less. Every day I felt less. Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?
You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.”

— Jonathan Safran Foer | Everything is Illuminated

Eleven weeks has this year been.

Magically have the hours stretched into days, weeks, months.
In the moment, the minutes melted like molasses, yet here we are, looking back at the accumulation of time piled high like snow drifts.
The quarter gusted by, ruffling my hair, picking at the edges of my jacket, freezing my salty tears to icicles.

Time, that infallible, indefatigable soldier, marches on.
I pool myself at his knees, pull at his clothes, cry, implore him for more, more, more.
I beg a retreat, a repeat– just one– beg for second chances, for one minute, one hour longer.

But he is deaf, this cruel god. There is no rewinding, no turning back.
Done is done; done is done, calls his war drum.
Onward we march. Forward we go.

Eleven weeks has this year been.

One, two, three months. Two thousand fourteen. Twenty fourteen.

The year began as a frenzy of tears, of dually joyous and grieving reunions, of family and love and support and then fell into a deep well of loneliness and numbness, of steely walls and wintry blues, of homesickness and exhaustion.
Slowly, though, 2014 stabilized to an equilibrium.
Just as there was sadness, there was celebration.
Just as there was remembrance, there was readjustment and renewal (even some resolutions).

Healing is not easy.
But you cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.
One walks hand in hand with the other.
And so must we, as their waves beat down on our beaches, as they soften and change our malleable souls.
This submission is not comfortable; it is not easy.

We do not like to be changed.

Yet what can I say? It gets better.

Things get better. I don’t eat dinner alone in the stairwell anymore, cold and alone. I let warmth into my life.
I don’t cry when I’m falling asleep; I don’t cry when I wake up. I smile, and stretch, long and satisfying.
I don’t feel like my lungs are collapsing in on themselves when I think about you. I breathe deeper, and deeper still.
I don’t feel my heart break anew into a million pieces when I think about my father, his brothers, his mother. It aches, but I embrace it.
I don’t feel like I’ve been punched in the gut when I hear your name.
(Although I did feel like I was being punched, repeatedly, when I heard your voice. My body clenched and I started to sweat. I listened to it over and over and over.)
I am so proud and so grateful, and I close my eyes and remind myself of that instead.

There were times when I didn’t think it would get easier. When I felt hopeless, helpless, lost.
It did, though. I see it more and more as this quarter draws to a close.
Never forgetting. I miss you. I keep your picture in my wallet for good luck on my tests. I taped your picture to my wall– you’re a dreamcatcher for anything math-related because those kind of thoughts give me nightmares.
I’m sure you happily absorb them, and roll your eyes when they’re wrong.
No, never forgetting.
Just feeling my heart knit back together, feeling the rent be mended, one stitch of time by one.

Allowing it to get better.

If there was ever something that you would think couldn’t get better, it would be St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake.
The name alone is enough to give this impression. Gooey. Butter. Cake.

But oh, friends, oh. Does it ever get better. In a word, yes.
Let’s be clear and upfront about what gooey butter cake is.

There are two versions: one is the more classic, yeasted bottom, butter topped coffeecake-like confection, and one is Paula Deen’s dump-a-buncha-butter into a cake mix and slather it with cream cheese decadence. Christina Tosi makes a similar version.
That’s how you know it’s good.
1) the name
2) Paula Deen
3) Xtina Tosi

This is the decadent, preservative-filled type, but made better. Made way, way, way better.
No box mixes. Sans preservatives. Still just as easy.

First, the base. Normally a box of yellow cake mix with a stick o’ melted butter added.
Here, oats, brown sugar, plenty of salt, and brown butter are stirred together, turning into a thick, soft cookie base, with a hearty texture and assertive flavor.

Next, the topping. Cream cheese, more brown sugar, eggs, plenty of salt, and a heap of powdered sugar are beaten together to form the sticky, cheesecake-y layer.

After it bakes, the top is cracked and deeply golden, and the whole thing smells like brown butter-brown sugar heaven.
Shut your eyes to resist its seductive temptation, and stick it in the freezer. Overnight. This is the hardest part of this recipe.
When it comes out the next day, it’s dense and chewy, yet maintains its eponymous gooey-ness.
Dust it in more powdered sugar, slice, and dive right in.

One bite and there’s no going back.
It just got better, fam.

Brown Sugar Oatmeal Gooey Butter Cake
makes an 8×8 pan
heavily adapted from Christina Tosi (originally via the now defunct Gilt Taste)

ingredients:
for the base:
3/4 cup rolled oats
1 teaspoon kosher salt
3/4 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup (8 tablespoons) butter
2 egg yolks
1 egg
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder

for the topping:
8 ounces cream cheese
hefty pinch salt
6 packed tablespoons (3 ounces) brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3 1/2 cups (13 ounces) confectioner’s sugar

directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Line an 8×8 pan with parchment, then grease the parchment generously.
Place oats in the bottom of a bowl, then put sugars and salt mounded up to one side.
Place your butter in a heavy pan over medium heat.
After it melts, continue to cook it until it browns and becomes nutty and fragrant.
Pour browned butter over oats and allow to sit and marinate; after a few minutes, stir the sugars and salt together with the oats.
Beat in the egg and egg yolks.
Stir in the flour and baking powder.
Mixture will be crumbly but stick together when pressed.
Press into the bottom of your 8×8 pan; you will have some left over (leave 3/4 of an inch for the topping).
Prepare the topping:
Beat cream cheese and salt together until very light and fluffy, and no lumps remain.
Whip in the brown sugar until the mixture is no longer gritty, about 3 minutes.
Add in the eggs and vanilla and beat on high for another 3 minutes.
Sift the confectioner’s sugar over the top of the mixture and beat just until combined; scrape the sides of the bowl and make sure everything is homogeneous.
Spread the mixture over the crust, making sure it covers the entire thing.
Bake for 40-45 minutes, until puffed, golden, and crackly, with only a slight jiggle in the center.
Remove from oven and let cool; PLACE IN FREEZER for at least 4 hours, and up to one night.
To serve, remove from freezer and immediately slice; dust with plenty of powdered sugar.

March 12, 2014March 12, 2014 by Rachel Sally

DNase1L3

This post is for my oldest ~~tormentor~~ ~~nemesis~~ brother Ben.

IMG_8363_01

He’s doing his oral qualification exam for grad school today!
He’s a big science nerd, just like me, only taller and ~~sassier~~ smarter.

(His paper is very complicated and scary… He’s researching DNase1L3. It’s very impressive.)

Apparently, the tradition is to bring some delicious baked good to your quals, so he asked me to be his “favorite person” and bake him something “ridiculously elaborate.”

HOW COULD I SAY NO!?

These cookies were inspired by Not So Humble Pie’s Gel Electrophoresis cookies from her Science Cookies series.

Um, as a nerd, I love all the science cookies. Obsessed.

I actually wanted to make some to send to my brother, and then, miracle of miracles, he asked me to send him baked goods! It was meant to be. I had my heart set on these little guys.

They’re supposed to look like a gel that’s been run and is under UV light; the loading dye glows slightly pink, and the gels are a lavender/blue color.

I did my best to replicate these colors in the cookies.
I piped the pink color while the blue was still wet, so that there would be no lumps and bumps in the final cookie.
This technique can be a little scary, in terms of bleeding, but I didn’t have any issues.
I also didn’t pipe a border around my gels, so they look a little melty. It’s ok. They’re wiggly in real life too.

This cookie dough is among my most beloved recipes.

It took a while to get just right, but now it is perfect. It produces crisp edges and buttery centers with hits of salt and vanilla. Flat cookies, perfect for decorating.

It’s taken countless iterations, from thumbprints and meltaways to jammers and decorated cookies.
I adapt it for chocolate cookies, cinnamon cookies, gingersnaps, etc.

It is so, so simple.
Count down from 3, then count back up.

3 cups flour, 2 sticks butter, 1 cup sugar, 1 egg, 2 teaspoons kosher salt, 3 teaspoons vanilla.

There’s no need to refrigerate the dough before rolling– just roll and cut, then freeze your shapes.
You can bake them off in 30 minutes, or you can wrap them well and bake them in a few weeks.

I also used egg white royal icing– no meringue powder//preservatives here! Just egg whites and sugar and water. Easy and pipes like a dream.

Good luck to you, Ben! Love you and miss you! xx

IMG_8356_01

3-2-1 Cookies with Egg White Royal Icing

ingredients:
for the cookies:

3 cups of flour

2 sticks of butter

1 cup of sugar

1 egg

2 teaspoons kosher or other coarse salt

3 teaspoons vanilla extract

for the royal icing:
2 egg whites
pinch salt
1 pound confectioner’s sugar, sifted
water, as needed
food coloring

directions:
Make the cookies:

Beat butter, salt, and sugar together until softened and pale yellow, about 3 minutes

Add in the egg and beat until super fluffy and shiny and not gritty, about 3 minutes.

Add in the vanilla extract and beat for 20 seconds.

Add in all the flour and stir slowly, mixing until a homogeneous dough forms.

It should not be overly sticky, nor should it be very crumbly.
Roll it out to 1/4 inch thickness on a well-floured surface and cut it into desired shapes.
Refrigerate or, even better, freeze, for at least 30 minutes while you preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.
Bake cookies for 8-10 minutes, until golden and easily lifted from the sheet.

Make the royal icing:
Whip egg white and salt until soft to slightly stiff peaks form.
Sift the sugar over the meringue and whip until everything comes together homogeneously.
Add water as needed to get to flooding consistency (see Bridget’s post here for FAQs).
Tint as desired and decorate cookies!
Allow to dry completely before packaging cookies.