And day to day, life’s a hard job, you get tired, you lose the pattern.
You need distance, interval.
The way to see how beautiful the earth is, is to see it as the moon.
The way to see how beautiful life is, is from the vantage point of death.
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia
Happy twelfth birthday to La Pêche Fraîche.
Sga:d hëdwa:yë:’ ögwa’nigöë’
We gather our minds together to send greetings and thanks to the world around us. Now our minds are one.
dëyetinönyö:’
We give our thanks to
Jöhehgöh
Our Life Sustainers we harvest from the garden.
Da:h ne’hoh dih nëyögwa’nigo’dë:ök
And so let it be that way in our minds.
—Portion of the Ganö:nyög (Thanksgiving Address/Greetings to the Natural World/Words that Come Before All Else) in Onöndowa’ga:’ Gawë:nö’
“Ha! hold my Brain; be still my beating Heart.”
—William Mountfort, Zelmane: Or, The Corinthian Queen: A Tragedy
Happy Valentine’s Day! You make my tart beet.
“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I’m gazing at a distant star.
It’s dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago.
Maybe the star doesn’t even exist anymore.
Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.”
—South of the Border, West of the Sun, Haruki Murakami
In the throes of warm happiness; or the bleak confines of sadness; or the boiling, poisonous depths of anger, it is hard to imagine a stronger emotion than that which has caught you, in that moment, in a tight, isolating embrace.
But increasingly, I find myself believing that nostalgia is the strongest emotion.
When you think about it, of course it is. This revelation is indeed not one at all, for no other emotion so fluidly combines each of your senses, as likely to be triggered by the scent and taste of a food or someone’s neck as the sight of a landmark or beauty mark, or a chilled wind or brush of familiar fingers or the soundtrack of a particular time of your life.
The empty melancholy of nostalgia makes my brain vibrate with a painfully pleasurable resonance. I can feel it mushrooming through my body, as my chest walls and throat constrict, as if I am hugging myself ever closer, ever tighter.
Wandering around the chilled campus of my alma mater for the first time since I gathered up all of my unknowns and heartbreaks and moved across the country, I felt that familiar emotion bubbling up aggressively, threatening to burst the tight seams that I have so much difficulty loosening.
I will admit to only a couple hot, confused tears borne of happiness and sadness.
Walking underneath the gates where we passed as first years, in our welcome ceremony, and then returned underneath to graduate into adulthood, I felt shivery and strange.
Always the students three years above seemed older, wiser, more ready. They left and I was temporarily sad, but the next year, life mostly just ticked onwards. It always felt far away.
In the end, I watched myself graduate into adulthood at essentially the same detached distance as I had all those who had gone before me, not because I wasn’t feeling intense emotions, but because it was simply a function of time passing, and naught can be done to stop that.
It happens whether you accept it willingly or not.
Still, the nostalgia I felt under Cobb Gate wracked me. My memories surprised me with their proximity. I yearned to be back in that time of my life, to be that person who I was when I first passed underneath the archway, or at least to be the person I was when I filed through for the last time.
I’m well past college at this point, emotionally and timewise.
Still, the nostalgia brought me back in an instant.
How lucky our species is, that possibly our keenest emotion is actually the dullest; the sharpest, clearest edges are smoothed by the blurriness of reminiscence.
I reckon perfect recollection would be a heavy burden indeed.
Instead, we sweep aside the boring and mundane entirely. We often view old flaming passions with bemusement. The trenches we trudged through seem much less deep and dark when looking backwards.
The gashes rent by grief, blessedly, are smoothed and filled in by fonder, treasured memories.
Even wild happiness is bridled in hindsight, as we shape it to fit what we know would come next; the magnitude of joy may stay the same, but there is little, if any, mystery or surprise to nostalgia.
Nostalgia is not an act of discovery. It is the opposite. It is an act of returning to a place—or a time, or a person—that feels like home.
RETROUVAILLES, subst. fém. plur. Fait, pour des personnes, de se revoir, en particulier après une longue séparation.
The cake I’m sharing today is unexpectedly nostalgic; a bit of a surprise twist on a classic.
The base swaps carrots for parsnips, imparting an extra earthy softness to the flavor; it’s rounded out with nubbly coconut and a hearty hit of warming spices.
Miso caramel sauce, brought almost to the point of burning so that it retains a faint smokiness, is layered between the cake as well as mixed into the fluffy, creamy buttercream.
An extra pinch of salt here and there cuts the rich sweetness.
The frosting is swirled with extra caramel, and the cake is topped with the prettiest color-coordinated sprinkles.
Thanks so much to Wilton Cakes for providing me with materials used to make this cake!
Speaking of nostalgic, I’ve been using Wilton products since I started baking from scratch—I literally bought all of my starter items from the AC Moore in Ithaca (before it closed!). They had 2 1/2 aisles of Wilton products, and whenever my mom would go to pick up scrapbooking supplies or frames, I would wander over and daydream about making fondant flowers, baking armies of cupcakes, and using every cookie cutter ever invented.
Below are some links to products I used for this project, and how they can help you create beautiful baked goods more easily.
First, this is a 6-inch round cake. It’s perfectly petite and my personal favorite size of cake to make. Here’s a link to the pans I used.
For the frosting, a drop of brown and a drop of yellow food coloring will help you get a beautifully even caramel color.
The easiest way to crumb coat the cake is using a large cake icer tip (Tip 789) and a turntable. You can get an even layer of frosting using the jumbo tip, and smoothing it out without disturbing the crumbs is easiest with long strokes—that’s where the turntable becomes so useful! (I also use these piping bags, and a new-to-me tool: piping bag ties!)
The sprinkles are a mix of these gorgeous pearlized gold sprinkles as well as these autumn sugar sprinkles.
Here are some other autumn ideas from Wilton, and be sure to check out their holiday ideas as well!
Parsnip and Miso Caramel Cake
makes 1 3×6-inch layer cake
ingredients:
for the parsnip cake:
1 cup (120 grams) flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups (approximately 3 small-medium sized) parsnips
42 grams (1/2 cup) shredded sweetened coconut
200 grams (1 cup) sugar
112 grams (1/2 cup) canola oil
2 eggs
for the miso caramel frosting:
150 grams (3/4 cup) sugar
60 grams (1/4 cup) water
90 grams (1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons) heavy cream
30 grams (2 tablespoons) butter
2 tablespoons white (shiro) miso
big pinch salt, to taste
225 grams (2 sticks, 16 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened
650 grams (5 cups plus 3 tablespoons) powdered sugar, as needed
60-80 grams (1/4 – 1/3 cup) heavy cream, room temperature, as needed
big pinch salt, to taste
to assemble:
Wilton sprinkles
directions:
Make the cake: grease and flour 3 6-inch pans and preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Grate parsnips finely, using a cheese grater or a food processor with the shredding blade.
Whisk flour, baking powder, baking soda, spices, and salt together.
Stir sugar and canola oil together, then whisk in the eggs one at a time.
Gently stir in the shredded parsnips and coconut, being sure to break up any large clumps.
Add the dry ingredients over the wet, and gently fold in, stirring firmly once or twice at the end to ensure homogeneity.
Portion out the batter evenly into the prepared pans.
Bake for 25-35 minutes, or until a tester comes out with a few moist crumbs and the cakes are golden and the tops springy to the touch.
Allow to cool for 10 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack and cooling completely.
Make the caramel for the frosting: place sugar and water in a small pot over medium heat.
Cook the caramel until it reaches an amber color; immediately remove it from the heat and whisk in the heavy cream and butter.
Whisk vigorously until the mixture is homogeneous, then pour into a bowl and add the miso and a pinch of salt; whisk again until the miso has broken up and incorporated.
Allow to cool completely, then add salt to taste if needed.
Make the frosting: whip softened butter for at least 3 minutes, until light in color and fluffy and smooth.
Add 1/4 cup of the miso frosting and start mixing on low speed.
Add in 1/4 cup of the powdered sugar at a time, stopping regularly to scrape the sides of the bowl.
Once 4 cups of the sugar have been incorporated, add 1/4 cup of heavy cream one tablespoon at a time.
Scrape the sides of the bowl and whip on high for 30 seconds to ensure homogeneity.
Add the remaining amount of powdered sugar if the frosting is too thin; add an additional few tablespoons of heavy cream is the frosting is too thick.
Place 1/3 cup frosting on the first cake round; drizzle on about 2 tablespoons of caramel.
Repeat with the next round, then crumb coat the whole cake.
Frost the cake thickly, placing dots of caramel randomly around the cake to swirl into the frosting as you smooth the outside.
Pipe decorations on top as desired, then decorate with Wilton sprinkles!
Disclaimer: I was provided with a product in this post for free, in exchange for my honest and fair review. All opinions are my own. Bisous!
“Please understand that I am in
full rebellion
against my own mind; that when I live
I live by impulse, by emotion,
by white heat.”
—Anaïs Nin, Henry and June
The French, in their effortless elegance, make a difference between kitchen and bathroom sinks.
Un évier et une lavabo.
They draw the line at owl’s ears: ones with visible ears are les hiboux, while ones without are les chouettes.
There are three words for frost, seven for ice.
Five for window, four for wall.
There’s even a phrase in French for the phenomenon of the urge to jump off of tall buildings/cliffs/balconies/heights:
l’appel du vide.
(Literally: call of the void.)
There are other nuances threaded into the language that make translation tricky; this is one of the most fascinating parts of non-native languages, I think.
Idioms and untranslatables that might confuse anyone hearing them for the first time.
This cake is totally autumnal, so in the same vein, here are some fantastic fall links for you to peruse.
OMgomgomg. Michelle made brown butter pumpkin cinnamon rolls with crème fraîche glaze and they are so fluffy and beautiful I am seriously losing my mind.
These ultra healthy sugar free apple, almond, and buckwheat muffins from Green Kitchen Stories look so comforting (that applesauce center wooooow) and I want to eat 3 for breakfast like, right now, please.
On the savory side, stew is my favorite kind of meal.
Customizable, easy, makes leftovers.
I gravitate towards middle Eastern flavors (za’atar is my go-to spice blend) when I’m cooking, and this squash and bean stew over brown rice is my idea of a perfect fall meal.
Side note: I really want SK’s Bowl + Spoon because, like I said, that’s the kind of cuisine/meal that just gets me.
See also: this butternut squash chili. Oyyyyyy so warm and spicy and squash-y.
Last one: drooling over this dutch apple pie with muscovado toffee sauce. Crumbly and salty-sweet and layers upon layers of apple drenched in toffee sauce…
I am quite partial to a good apple pie.
Where to start with this carrot cake…
First of all, it is remarkable how well the mélange of ingredients mesh in this cake.
The sheer number of mix-ins might make one wary, but you absolutely must trust me, because the resulting cake is nothing short of phenomenal.
It is exactly how I like my carrot cake: moist, dark, spicy, fruity, and chock full of little surprises in each bite.
And lots and lots of carrot!
The cake is healthier than most carrot cakes, which are always touted to be calorie bombs in disguise.
The amount of refined sugar is drastically reduced by using coconut sugar, which is dark and a little smoky tasting. It lends the cake an extra deep, caramel flavor.
The cake itself is dairy free, with MCT-rich coconut oil standing in for butter.
The frosting has a cracked, shiny, swirly top.
It’s lusciously rich on the tongue, with butter and brown sugar creating an extremely rich caramel flavor.
It’s good while soft and melty and fantastic when cold, which firms it up into a fudgy consistency.
It’s a rich frosting to pair well with the dense, moist cake beneath. A wimpy frosting would have no impact and no chance of competing with the cake.
The cake is filled with grated carrots and apples for earthiness and a firm bite; coconut sugar and flaked coconut add a whisper of the tropics and a hint of caramel and smoke; candied ginger and a pinch of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves add a spicy note; juicy golden raisins are sweet and unexpected; finally, toasted chopped walnuts give an ever-so-slight bitter nuttiness to each bite.
The frosting deserves a whole host of adjectives of its own.
This is seriously the best frosting of this sort (spread over warm sheet cake) I have ever in my life tasted or imagined.
Unlike the cake, it is in no way healthified.
It’s made of copious amounts of butter and brown sugar, and is literally liquid fudge that is spread over the warm cake and then allowed to set into luscious, creamy goodness.
It’s sweet and salty and a little caramel-esque, with a crunchy, shiny top layer and a buttery center below.
I want to spread it on every single sheet cake I ever make.
This would be incredible with applesauce cake, or chocolate cake, or caramel cake, or coconut cake… or a spoon, or cardboard. You get the point. It’s good.
Kitchen Sink Carrot Cake with Brown Sugar Fudge Frosting
makes 1 9×9 inch cake
frosting adapted from KAF
ingredients:
for the cake:
2 eggs
100 grams (1/2 cup) granulated sugar
75 grams (1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons) coconut sugar (or brown sugar)
170 grams (3/4 cup) coconut oil, melted
1 teaspoon kosher salt
120 grams (1 cup) flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cloves
200 grams (1 1/2 cups grated) carrots
2 small granny smith apples, grated
1/2 cup toasted chopped walnuts
1/2 cup shredded coconut
1/2 cup candied ginger, chopped
1/2 cup golden raisins
for the brown sugar fudge frosting:
100 grams (7 tablespoons) butter
130 grams (2/3 cup) brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon plus big pinch kosher salt
60 grams (1/4 cup) milk
275 grams (2 1/4 cup) confectioner’s sugar
directions:
Make the cake: preheat oven to 350 degrees F and grease a 9×9 inch pan; line with parchment and grease the parchment as well.
Whisk eggs, sugars, oil, and salt together until homogeneous and light in color.
Add the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and spices on top.
Fold in until halfway incorporated, then add the grated carrots and apple on top and fold until completely uniform.
Stir in walnuts, coconut, raisins, and candied ginger.
Pour batter into prepared tin and bake for 30-40 minutes, until a tester comes out with a few moist crumbs.
Allow to cool while you prepare the frosting.
Make the frosting: melt butter, brown sugar, and salt together until completely incorporated.
Whisk in the milk and powdered sugar until a thick frosting comes together.
Allow to cool for 5 minutes, then spread over the partially cooled cake, swirling with a palette knife as desired.
Serve cake room temperature or slightly chilled for denser 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.
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.
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.
CHIAROSCURO
blackberry caviar, coconut mousse, coconut crumb, coconut yolk, blackberry puree
Hi! To any newcomers, welcome to my blog, and welcome to my project for UChicago’s spring Festival of the Arts!
(I’ll post more explaining this post-presentation, for all you laypeople.)
////// Okay! SO Hi! Yes! Presentation went off without a hitch. \\\\\\
I gave a 7-ish minute spiel about molecular gastronomy, this here blog, my weird love of reverse frozen spherification, and the three desserts you see here, which were funded by FOTA.
Hopefully I didn’t embarrass myself too badly (I definitely did).
Contrast, made edible. Fruity, creamy, crunchy, chewy.
Why are there so many seeds in blackberries? Getting ultra-smooth puree is a pain in the ass.
FRAGOLA
black pepper cheesecake, lemon curd, lemon sorbet, ginger black pepper sand, walnuts, candied lemons, creme fraiche, honey
Early summer on a plate. Spicy, sour, rich, fresh.
PSA: candied lemons are so incredibly addictive. So is lemon curd. OMg.
For my live presentation, I made a deconstructed strawberry pie: strawberry yolk, yogurt cream, 5-spice milk sand.
Simple, delicious.
TUORLO
mango yolk, watermelon tartar, avocado mousse, lime curd, creme fraiche, grapefruit
A play on tuna tartare with raw egg yolk. Tropical, crunchy, herb-y, tangy.
(There is nothing quite like cold watermelon on a hot day, amirite?!)
Happy to provide any of the recipes pictured for my fellow molecular nuts!
Hello! Welcome to my first post on my “new” blog!
I’ve spent a bunch of time designing this new website- what do y’all think?
I think it’s pretty shmancy, and I’m glad to have my own domain!
You can still access any/all of my posts (yes, even the really old embarrassing ones, though the formatting of those is a bit wonky- it didn’t transfer smoothly) and you can search for any items/ click through the tag cloud down at the bottom of the page.
Things should be quicker and less difficult, and hopefully prettier around here!
Not much else will change- I’m still going to be posting about yummy treats like these cupcakes.
These little guys make use of something that most people are drowning in this time of year- zucchini!
Instead of baking it into a bread, I made tender little cupcakes. Zucchini bread tends to be dense, which doesn’t translate well into cakes.
Luckily, these are soft and light, with a tight crumb and slightly crispy exterior.
I topped them with a fluffy lime cream frosting, made with mascarpone cheese.
The recipe is quite easy- it’s a two bowl, no mixer, 10 minute prep kind of cake.
In addition, it only makes 6 perfect little cakes! Lovely when you don’t want an army of cupcakes to decorate, or you need a quick, sweet fix.
Enjoy, and, again, welcome to the new site!
Zucchini Cupcakes with Lime Cream frosting
makes 6
for the cupcakes:
adapted from Chow
ingredients:
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons AP flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon plus 1/8 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 egg
1/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3.5 ounces zucchini (about 1 small/medium squash), grated on a box grater (scant 1 cup grated)
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Line 6 muffin tins with papers, or grease and flour them.
Whisk the flour, cornstarch, salt, baking powder, and baking soda together.
In another bowl, whisk the oil, egg, sugars, and vanilla together.
Whisk the two mixtures together, then whisk or fold in the zucchini.
Portion the batter out into your muffin tins and bake for 16-18 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean.
Allow to cool before frosting.
for the lime cream frosting:
ingredients:
6 tablespoons butter, softened
6 tablespoons mascarpone cheese (you can substitute cream cheese here)
zest of one lime
juice of 1/2 a lime
1/3 cup nonfat milk powder
1 2/3 cup powdered sugar
directions:
Beat the mascarpone and butter together until fluffy.
Add in the lime zest and juice and mix until combined.
Add in the milk powder and powdered sugar slowly, while beating.
Continue to beat until frosting is fluffy.
Use immediately or refrigerate for up to 1 day.
4 corn cookies, chopped roughly
directions:
Churn custard according to your ice cream maker’s directions.
Once churned, layer 1/3 of the ice cream into a loaf pan or other freezer-safe container.
Sprinkle 1/2 of the chopped corn cookies onto the ice cream, then drizzle the caramel over.
Layer in the same manner once more.
Finally, top everything off with the final third of the ice cream, then place in a freezer to set for at least 2 hours before using.
You may need to let the ice cream thaw slightly before scooping to serve.
