A temperamental beast

I'm jonesing for summertime.

Yes, I profess to love rain, and yes, fall is my favourite season, and yes, I did whine all last summer that it was too hot, that it was too humid, that I couldn't wait for it to be over. But now I'm sorry, really I am, and all I can think about is tomato season, and berry season, and the farmer's market, and oh god sunshine. We got a little taste of spring this past week or so - it was beautiful and sunny and I carried my camera everywhere with me and never took any photos - at least not of the great outdoors.

I took photos of cake, though.

If ever my family had a cake recipe, it's this one: Orange Chiffon Cake with Lemon Glaze. My mom taught me how to make it, and my dad rhapsodizes about his mother buying them from the bakery truck when he was a child. It makes for a good transitional recipe, too: flavoured with citrus, which is readily available in the winter, but somehow summery tasting. The cake recipe itself is from the Joy of Cooking, though the glaze varies from season to season and lemon to lemon. And I don't know how chiffon cakes got such a reputation as terrifying and temperamental beasts - be nice to your egg whites and you'll get along fine. (Of course, I can be as smug as I like about that down here at sea level - in New Mexico it was a slightly different story).

Orange Chiffon Cake with Lemon Glaze

from the Joy of Cooking

For the cake:

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Have ready 1 ungreased 10-inch tube pan with a removable bottom, and make sure the ingredients are at room temperature, 68-70 degrees.

Sift together twice into a large bowl:

2 1/4 cups sifted cake flour (I used all purpose and it worked out fine)

1 1/4 cups sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

In another bowl, beat on high speed until smooth:

5 large egg yolks

3/4 cup orange juice

1/2 cup vegetable oil

2 tablespoons grated orange zest

1 teaspoon vanilla

Stir into the flour mixture until smooth.

In another large bowl, beat on medium speed until soft peaks form:

8 large egg whites

1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar

Gradually add, beating on high speed:

1/4 cup sugar

Beat until peaks are stiff, but not dry. Use a rubber or silicone spatula to fold one-quarter of the egg whites into the egg yolk mixture, then fold in the remaining whites. Scrape the batter into the pan and spread evenly. Bake until the top springs back when lightly pressed and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 55 to 65 minutes. Let cool upside down for at least 1 1/2 hours, setting the tube over a bottleneck, or resting the pan on 4 glasses.

To unmold the cake, slide a thin-bladed knife around the cake to detach it from the pan, and lift out of the pan by pulling on the tube (this is why you want the removable bottom!) Then cut around the tube and the base of the cake and invert onto a plate. When you're cutting, be sure to press the blade of the knife against the pan, to avoid tearing the cake.

For the glaze (approximately):

2/3 cup lemon juice (juice of 2-3 lemons)

1/4 cup-ish powdered sugar

Stir powdered sugar to taste into lemon juice to dissolve. I like just enough to take the edge of sour off, but still keep a bit of pucker.

To glaze the cake, brush or spoon the glaze over the top of the cake, being sure to get the corners and let it run down the sides. Allow a couple of hours before serving to let it soak in a bit.

A nice, multicultural cookie. Or something.

Sorry I've been so lax about updating lately... we are in full swing of Holiday Hell here in retail-land, and by the time I get home from a grueling day of customers and cookware, it's all I can manage to put something together for dinner... let alone photograph or write about it. But I had a day off yesterday, and so I offer these, the most Christmas spirit I've exhibited so far this season:



Biscochitos are high up on my list of favourite holiday foods, and are nigh impossible to find outside of New Mexico. I'd been planning on making a batch for weeks, and finally buckled down and did it, even using my new snowflake cookie cutter that I picked up at work. They turned out looking more like Stars of David, but I guess that makes for a nice, multicultural cookie. Or something.

I was actually reduced to googling "biscochitos" to find a decent recipe for these little cookies, with mixed results. I almost used this one, but it didn't call for alcohol, and I don't believe in virgin  biscochitos. I finally settled on this recipe, with a little tweaking. I feel like they could stand further tweaking, so I'll let you know once I have an updated version. The current recipe is highly edible, though, so don't feel like you need to wait.



Biscochitos

Take One

1/2 lb butter (2 sticks - and I know that I am way out of line using butter; a proper biscochito must be made with lard. I'm a recovering vegetarian - I don't know what to do with hunks of animal fat).

3/4 c. white sugar

1 tsp. anise seed

1 large egg

3 c. all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 c. red wine

1/4 c. sugar

1 T. cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a large mixing bowl, cream butter (or lard, you brave souls), sugar and anise seed. Add the egg, and mix until combined.

In another large bowl, combine the flour, baking powder and salt.

Alternating with with the red wine, add the flour to the butter mixture.

Roll out to between 1/4 and 1/2 inch thick, depending on how you like your biscochitos, and cut into suitable shapes. Snowflakes are great, especially if they melt into not-snowflakes.

Combine the remaining 1/4 c. sugar and tablespoon of cinnamon in a wide bowl, and press the face of each cookie into the mixture before putting it on the baking sheet.

Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are golden.

Cool on a rack, and start eating as soon as they are cool enough to not burn your mouth.

In retrospect, here are a few ideas for tweaks: try brandy, which is what the original recipe called for, rather than red wine. While initially a lovely purplish colour, it faded to an odd grey, which is really not what you're going for with cookie dough. I could have sworn my grandmother makes them with red wine.... Also, out here in the humid northwest, err on the side off a little too much flour. I added probably a quarter cup during the rolling process, just to get the proper consistency for a rolled cookie, rather than a drop cookie.

Oh, and a word to the unenlightened - never ever ever call a biscochito a snickerdoodle, or at least not if you value your life.

The Post-due Post-Thanksgiving Post

To be honest, I've never really understood the fuss about Thanksgiving. I am a fairly recent convert to mashed potatoes, turkey's never done much of anything for me, and it was always just a lot of fuss and family... usually right before finals.

This year, while calmer in terms of family (my folks flew out to visit, so it was just the four of us) was a blur of work and baking and kitchen heat. Admittedly with some very tasty results. This, however, was probably the best part of Thanksgiving dinner:

This was one of Chuck's later attempts to make friends with the turkey, actually. On his first attempt he got a few good bites off of one wing - I was preoccupied with gravy, I can't be held responsible. That, and it was really cute.

But even setting feline cuteness aside, this was a good year. I was working every day but Thanksgiving, so my folks got to take care of the shopping and prep. 

Dad made his Porcini and Cornbread Dressing which is, in all honesty, to die for. I don't even like dressing and I fought for the scraps. I promise I'll post the recipe soon. We have no idea where it comes from - a newspaper somewhere, some year, someone claims. Origins aside, it's fantastic.

But with ingredients like these, can you go wrong?

Add enough mushrooms to anything and I'll be happy as a clam, that's for sure.

The final spread also included mashed potatoes, broccolini, cranberry sauce and gravy... and landed on my desk.

Our dining room table is miniscule, so there was barely enough room for our plates and the champagne (because what is Thanksgiving without champagne?)

The only drawback to the desk-as-sidetable was Chuck learning a nifty trick of standing up on his hind paws and swiping turkey from the platter with his front paws. Unfortunately, all of my pictures of said trick are blurry, so it will just have to live on in memory....

My major contribution was dessert.

I made two pies that morning - apple and pumpkin - which was only faintly nerve-wracking as my mom is usually the pie maker. I've done a few pies since Matt and I moved out here, (how could I not, with all of the Northwestern berries?) but I knew my work would be measured against my mom's legendary pie-making skills. It stood up favourably, if I say so myself.

The apple pie you may actually recognize from my pretty new title up top - that was the project for the evening. Before anyone actually got to taste either pie, we spent hours photographing a single slice on a red plate, experimenting with countless angles, backgrounds and pairs of chopsticks. The end result makes me feel like a legitimate blogger, if nothing else. (Look! A picture at the top!)

Legitimate blogger or otherwise, I apologize for my recent absence - between holiday retail and finals I'm a bit frazzled. I'm cooking, I just can't think to write about it - we eat watching Top Chef and Grey's Anatomy and I speculate about life as a line cook and tall food and feeling a bit homely and, well, short. But after my Japanese final next Tuesday, the cookbook section at Powell's is calling my name, so hopefully I'll find a little more energy and inspiration.