DB: Chocolate almond yeasted coffee cake

The March 2011 Daring Baker’s Challenge was hosted by Ria of Ria’s Collection and Jamie of Life’s a Feast. Ria and Jamie challenged The Daring Bakers to bake a yeasted Meringue Coffee Cake. 

Frangipane and I are not getting along. We have a bit of an abusive relationship going on: I love to eat frangipane, but every time I work with frangipane, I run into some "issues" and loads of anger. It started with this incident in January. Now three months later, I've had another terrible run-in with frangipane. *Sigh.* I refused to photograph/display this one. I think that, if the picture from the first incident is any indication, you will have a rough idea of what this train wreck resembled.

On paper, I began with what seemed like a "brilliant" idea for a yeasted coffee cake filled with almond frangipane and dark chocolate chunks. Think croissant choco-amande. Yum. I suppose ideas initially always seem brilliant. In practice, this "brilliant" idea oozed out of the bread baking in the oven.

Idea: not so brilliant. *Sigh.*

After I and my "brilliant" idea had cooled off, I sampled the bread and took a photo of a slice. Verdict: very edible; pretty tasty, in fact; there's potential here (I am pretty proud of the swirl!).

Back to the kitchen.


The ironic part of this disaster: I had spent loads of time with a calculator, carefully dividing the recipe in half so as to make only one bread. Three hours later, I found myself back in the kitchen making a second batch. If only I hadn't divided the dough recipe in the first place, I would have had some back-up dough to play with! Hindsight is 20/20. It really is true.

I scaled down my filling recipes and started all over. Working and reworking a recipe reminds me of my lab days, when I'd spend 12 to 16 hours per day researching and tweaking reaction conditions (like recipes) until I got them just right. It's strange to think how similar my hobby and my previous day job are. My hobby and my day job do differ on one point: my hobby leads me to daily delicious yumminess in my tummy; my PhD did not. School led me to depression, insanity, sleep deprivation, and an addiction to Advil, candy, caffeine, and work.

I had hope for this second batch. I shaped the bread into a lucky horseshoe. (Desperation?) Then I popped it into the oven and forgot to set the timer. Sadly, I'm really not exaggerating. I had to watch it bake and guesstimate the elapsed time. I can't blame the frangipane for this oversight.

And then, the second bread oozed. And, nope, I'm still not joking. This time, I photographed it (I'm sorry if it looks kind of gross! Please don't hate me.). Before starting, my gut feeling was that simply rolling the filled dough and not sealing the edges with an egg wash was a terrible idea. I can now confirm this after two messes.

Retrospect: Both attempts ended with wonderful bread, though the methods are going to take some more tweaking which is why I can't provide a recipe yet. I'm pretty sure my "brilliant" idea of a gorgeous yeasted coffee cake, filled with chocolate and almond frangipane, has potential, just not this week. Frangipane and I are going to take a break from each other again. We clearly have some tension to work through.

Since I'm kind of mad at frangipane right now, maybe for my next attempt, I'll use gobs of marzipan. Frangipane, screw you!

Chocolate espresso pound cake

You know those stupid jokes that start with "how many ______ does it take to change a light bulb?" Yeah. I officially hate those jokes.

It took me months to change four lightbulbs that progressively burned out. MONTHS! One burned out in September, but because my ceilings are almost 10 feet off the ground, I clearly needed more than a measly two-step ladder to get to it. I could really use some chocolate....

By the time I got my hands on a ladder, two more had burned out.

That's okay: I have a tall ladder to get to them!

But then, I couldn't get the (insert swear word here) light bulbs out of their sockets! Seriously? SERIOUSLY! Somebody get me some cake!

It took several attempts, two witnesses to my plight, two ladders, a suction cup, and two trips to Home Depot for me to get them out. At that point, there were four to change. One Home Depot worker suggested that I simply smash them out of their sockets. Really? Is that your best answer dude? And if you want me to smash them, you should probably try and sell me some protective gear so that I don't get glass in my eye and go blind! I don't think my insurance will cover the injuries that I will suffer while smashing light bulbs like an idiot.

It turns out that all I had to do was twist them because they weren't the pluggy-kind of bulb, but rather a plug-and-twist-kind. I didn't even know those existed! Did you? You'd think that during my two trips to Home Depot, somebody there would have mentioned that maybe I have the "other" type of bulb.

Frustrating beyond belief for a person who works hard to fix things herself. I'm pretty stubborn that way. Plus, I don't have a partner to fix things for me. That's okay. I can change my light bulbs on my own (with my mom spotting me so that I don't fall off the ladder), even if it might take me a ridiculous amount of blood, sweat, and tears.

This loaf is the opposite of frustrating. The batter comes together pretty quickly. The mise en place is probably the most time-consuming part. I can handle a little scooping and measuring in a well-lit kitchen. The original recipe is from Bon Appétit's March 2011 issue (page 99–100). I added cocoa powder to the recipe because, after all the light bulb shenanigans, I really needed a hit of cocoa. I omitted the nuts and fruits called for because I didn't want anything to come between me and the cocoa. The cake is deeply chocolaty and will satisfy a chocolate craving that arises while changing light bulbs that refuse to be changed. The espresso and spices will renew the spring in your step, and motivate you to face a few more challenges.

Chocolate espresso pound cake
Yields one loaf
Serves 1 in the event that you can't change a light bulb

• 130 grams (1 cup) all-purpose flour
• 60 grams (1/2 cup) sifted cocoa powder, plus more for dusting the loaf pan
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp cardamom
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 3/4 tsp baking powder
• 4 large eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 225 grams (1 cup butter), room temperature
• 168 grams (3/4 cup) granulated sugar
• 90 grams (1/2 cup) golden brown sugar
• 1 tbsp espresso powder

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9x5-inch loaf pan. Line with parchment, then grease and dust with cocoa powder.
2. In a medium bowl, mix together the flour, sifted cocoa, spices, salt, and baking powder. Set aside.
3. In a small bowl, whisk together the eggs and vanilla. Set aside.
4. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter, sugars, and espresso powder until it is nice and smooth.
5. Gradually add in the egg/vanilla mixture. Scrape the bowl as needed with a spatula.
6. Gradually add in the dry ingredients, scraping down the bowl as needed.
7. Drop the batter into the prepared pan, smoothing the top.
8. Bake for 1 hour–1 hour 10 minutes. Remove from the oven
9. Let the loaf cool completely in the pan on a cooling rack.

Lavender scones and white chocolate whipped cream: a welcome distraction from Charlie Sheen

Food is a constant distraction for me. It's essentially all I think about. I can spend hours on the internet, thinking about food, while the media is bombarding the world with some crazy news (à la Charlie Sheen).  I'm usually so engulfed in food that I can't hear/see what's happening out there, even though it's all over the internet that I am browsing. I guess I just filter out what I don't need to know.

Even a simple ripe banana can distract me.

Of course, my filter isn't perfect. Some useless information inevitably leaks through once and awhile. The other day, the name Charlie Sheen and the words gold tooth and tiger blood caught my attention while I was ignoring the kitchen radio. People seem pretty excited over Charlie Sheen right now, but I've missed most of the story. Oh well. Charlie Sheen's gold tooth probably won't affect my life, for better or for worse. Also, I'm pretty sure that Charlie Sheen shouldn't play with tigers...

 

I almost didn't see this monkey walking right in front of me in Bali because I was too busy eating the banana shown above!
Can you believe it?

Scones have provided me with some much needed distraction from tiger blood. Lately, scones seem to be quite popular among bloggers. Yet, I must confess that I'd never attempted to make a scone up until recently, let alone sample scones at cafés and bakeries. Scones can be terrifying. Think of those brick-like scones that are so dense and heavy. These horrendous scones are a chocking hazard and must be flushed down with copious amounts of tea to minimize the risk of death. We've all encountered one of those inedible rocks, and they really are cause for worry when you want to bake up a batch of scones.

After much research, I opted to use RLB's recipe for flaky scones from the Bread Bible. I trust RLB. Plus, unlike other scone recipes, RLB's recipe features a generous amount of cold butter and cream. I believe in the power of butter and cream. Could these ingredients really fail me? The dough is worked much like a puff pastry—rolled, folded, and turned several times to produce a light interior that is flaky, but moist. The extra work is well worth it because these will change your opinion of scones forever. 

For this recipe, I heated the cream with some dried lavender buds to infuse the scones with their delicate perfume. If you don't want the flecks of dried lavender to appear in your scones, simply strain the infused cream before using it. And, if you want your scones to really puff up, you will need to keep the dough chilled so that the butter flakes do not blend into the dough. This is something that I didn't do because I was just looking for light tenderness, and not hardcore flakiness. For a touch of sweetness, I served these scones with white chocolate whipped cream, the perfect match for the lavender.

Lavender scones

Makes 12–16 scones

• 1 cup cold butter
• 2 cups heavy cream
• 2 tsp dried lavender
  
• 608 grams all-purpose flour
• 100 grams granulated sugar
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 salt
• 1 tsp dried lavender
• White chocolate whipped cream (optional)

1. Cut the butter into small, 1-inch cubes, and chill it in the fridge until you are ready to use it.
2. Heat the cream and 2 tsp lavender in a small saucepan on medium heat until the cream begins to steam. Remove from the heat and let the lavender/cream mixture steep for 10 minutes before transferring it to the fridge to cool (about 1 hour).
3. In a large bowl, whisk together all the other dry ingredients.
4. Drop the cold butter cubes into the dry ingredients, and press the cubes of butter into the flour with your fingertips to get large flour-covered flakes (approximately the size of corn flakes).
5. With a wooden spoon, stir in the cold lavender/cream mixture just until the dough clumps (don't overmix it!). The dough should be a clumpy, floury mess at this point.
6. Preheat the oven to 400°F and place a flat baking sheet on the middle rack.
   
7. Pour the dough mixture onto a floured work surface, and pat it into a rectangle.
8. Roll the rectangle into an 8x12-inch rectangle. Fold it in thirds (like a letter), rotate, and repeat three more times. Be sure to flour the surface at every step to avoid the dough sticking. If the dough gets too warm, it will stick even more, so you may need to chill it for 10 minutes in the fridge.
9. Roll out the dough to an 8x12-inch rectangle, and cut your scones (either using a knife into wedges, squares or rectangles, or with a floured glass to make circles). I cut the dough into 14 rectangles.
10. Place the scones on a lined baking sheet. Freeze for 15 minutes.
11. Take the baking sheet with the scones directly from the freezer, and place it on top of the preheated baking sheet. Bake for 20–25 minutes, until the edges begin to brown, and the tops are just golden.
12. Remove the scones from the oven, and place them to cool on a rack lined with a towel. Cover loosely with another dish towel to avoid drying out the scones.
13. Serve warm or at room temperature with a dollop of cream.

Maple cinnamon cake

Every time I see a moving truck parked in front of my building, I get excited: maybe today is the day that I will meet my "future husband" who just so happens to be moving into my building. It's a pretty convenient scenario that I have dreamed up. Of course, my little daydream has yet to pan out into anything real. Sometimes, it's an older boy-girl couple moving into my building; sometimes it's a younger boy-girl couple; sometimes it's a boy-boy couple moving in, and sometimes it's a girl-girl couple (great, but neither are really helping my singledom situation). I'm sure singles move into my building too, but I just never see them. Oh well.

 
Last week, a really cute boy moved into my building, and right down the hall from me. I was most optimistic and initially quite excited. My excitement fizzled to nothing when I saw that somebody had left him an orchid with a note (I am not a stalker, I am just very observant). I am now assuming that he either doesn't swing my way, or he is off the market since, really, how many single, straight men do you know that receive orchids as home welcoming gifts. I'm crossing my fingers that he is actually just an avid orchid-lover who is just dying to meet me.

In the meantime, I have a kit to transform a frog into prince charming (more on that later), as well as a light, moist maple cinnamon cake. And, I have liters of maple syrup to drown my singledom sorrows. I will continue to observe the world through glasses coated in amber maple syrup (made in Quebec, of course), and one day, my "future husband" will cross my path and love me, maple syrup and all.

Well...

At least I have maple cinnamon cake and liters of maple syrup for now...

I mean, realistically, it could be a while!

Maple cinnamon cake
Makes one 9-inch square cake
Recipe adapted from Bon Appétit's recipe for a "gâteau de sirop" featured in the March 2011 issue.

This cake is perfect as is, but would be great with a drizzling of maple syrup and some maple-sweetened whipped cream. This would also make a great layer cake with maple buttercream. Oh yes!
P.S. If you want to remove the cake from the pan, you might want to line it with some parchment on the bottom, just to make it easier to get out in the end.

• 185 grams (1 1/4 cup) all-purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 57 grams (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 100 grams (1/2 cup) dark brown sugar
• 2 eggs, room temperature
• 200 mL maple syrup, medium grade
• 100 mL evaporated milk
• 25 mL yogurt (I used 2.5% fat yogurt)

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Prepare a 9-inch square metal pan by greasing and flouring. Set aside.
3. Whisk together the dry ingredients in a medium bowl. Set aside for later.
4. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and the brown sugar.
5. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well between each addition, and scraping the sides as necessary. The batter may look a little curdled if the eggs were a little too cool. That's okay.
6. Add the maple syrup and mix again. Scrape down the bowl as needed.
7. In a separate measuring cup (or a small bowl), mix together the evaporated milk and yogurt. Set aside.
8. To the bowl of the mixer, add one third the dry ingredients, mix until incorporated, then add half the dairy, mix again and scrape the bowl as needed. Continue with another third of dry and the other half of the dairy, and end with the last third of the dry ingredients, mixing well and scraping down the bowl as necessary.
9. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 30 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean. The cake will also pull away slightly from the sides of the pan.
10. Remove the cake from the oven and cool completely in the pan before serving.

By the way, my photos were inspired by this post from Cannelle et Vanille. This blog is full of jaw-dropping photos and mouth-watering recipes. As I learn to get in touch with my artistic side and to photograph food, I cannot help but imitate those sites that I love and browse constantly. They inspire and teach me.