Mariner's Shrimp & Mac

Here are some foods I love:

Cheese
Macaroni cheese (this is what macaroni and cheese is called here in the UK and I love it)
Shrimp
Olives

Here are some things I can now say with surety that I do not like in combination:

Cheese
Macaroni Cheese
Shrimp
Olives.

But here we are, and it wouldn’t be The Recipe Box Project if every recipe was a winner. I made this Mariner’s Mac during Lent, because even though we don’t change our diet, I still remember my mom’s stories about eating fish every Friday, so I figured Lent was as good of a time as any to make this dish. But then it was so terrible I’ve just been putting off the inevitable post about it because I just don’t really know what to tell you about this.

To begin with, I should note that, for some reason, macaroni cheese in a box is almost impossible to find in Scotland. Neither of the grocery stores in my neighbourhood carry it, and neither does the one near my office. I couldn’t muster up the energy or desire to ruin a batch of homemade macaroni cheese by turning it into Mariner’s Mac, so I opted for a family-size macaroni cheese from the refrigerator section as my base… but it was from Waitrose—the fanciest grocer in Edinburgh—so it was still a little gourmet.

Also, the recipe doesn’t say what kind of olives should be used, so I went with pitted kalamatas. This was a mistake, though not as big of a mistake as this entire dish turned out to be. The worst part was that it’s impossible to eat around all the nonsense that goes into this dish, because the onions (which are raw for added shudders) are minced so small they’re invisible under the cheese sauce.

I am, however, starting to have a theory that the advent of all the boxed foods that appeared in the 1950s and 1960s are responsible for these weird ‘casseroles’ in a way I didn’t expect. I mean, if you were a housewife in the 1950s, and you had only ever tasted food made from scratch, wouldn't the taste of boxed macaroni just disgust you (not to mention feeling absolutely too easy-- like calling for a takeaway)? So how do you fix the taste of processed foods as a home cook (and how do you convince housewives to buy your product, if you're a brand like Kraft)?

You make up inane recipes to prove how 'versatile' your products are, and if you're a cook, you 'dress up' your easy boxed meals to make them seem more costly, unique, time-consuming, and fancy. At least, that's how I justify the existence of this recipe, and if you have a better idea, than I'm all ears.

The verdict:

1 spoon out of five. I feel I should at least deign to give this recipe a single spoon, since Judson and I managed to eat the shrimp and macaroni cheese and leave behind the majority of the olives and other random ingredients. But I really like both shrimp and macaroni, and it was still an unholy effort to get through an entire bowlful of this recipe. I don't recommend it-- at all.

one year ago: Easter Bread

The recipe:

Mariner's Shrimp & Mac

the directions:

Prepare macaroni as directed on package.
Stir in shrimp, sour cream, olives, pimento, and onion.
Stir well and reheat throughout before serving. 

the ingredients:

1 box (or prepared refrigerated version) macaroni cheese
1 c shrimp, cooked
¾ c sour cream
¼ c olives, pitted and sliced
2 tbsp sweet red pepper or pimento, chopped
1 tbsp onion, chopped finely

The Battle of the Carrot Cakes: An Easter Saga

Carrot cake, to me, has always been a take-it-or-leave-it situation. If it’s got raisins in it, obviously it’s terrible. But it’s so often perfectly moist with such a lovely layer of cream cheese frosting, I’ve never been able to completely stay away from it. Eleanor, I suspect, shared exactly my sentiments: it’s a non-chocolate dessert, and as such, it’s immediately suspect. But it has cream cheese frosting (one step away from cheesecake for a die-hard cheesecake fan), nuts, and it’s a veritable classic—all points in its favour. Also, Easter and Lent were always a big deal to Eleanor, so I could see these carrot cake recipes being go-tos for her around this time of year… although in 1950s Florida without air conditioning, it doesn’t take a lot of imagination to envision this frosting melting right off the cake.

Up until this week, I don’t think I have ever made a carrot cake. Having now made two in less than a week, I can tell you with a fair amount of surety that these recipes are practically foolproof. One of them doesn’t even involve a mixer, and both are so perfectly moist you’ll be shocked at how you can slice through them like warm butter. Also, both cakes are dairy-free (except for the frosting).

If you’re not big on Easter, carrot cake is still a good springtime treat—somehow lighter than a chocolate cake, but not requiring any fruit that’s not in season yet. Plus, let’s be real: cream cheese frosting is the best frosting, but so often comes out grainy or just too heavy… not so this frosting. If you’re a fan of frosting, might I recommend (heartily) the below frosted version? It’s the best cream cheese frosting I’ve ever tasted, and I’m already plotting all the future cakes I can top with it.

That said, if you’re heading to a brunch-y Easter gathering, the unfrosted, bundt pan version of this cake is sturdy, easily transportable, comes together with only a large bowl, a whisk, and a grater, and is the perfect weekend breakfast treat.* (If you’re curious how I know this, it’s because I brought it to work to celebrate a co-worker’s birthday, and we all nibbled thick slices at half past ten on a Wednesday morning. We regretted nothing.)

If you’re only going to have a chance to make one carrot cake (which, unless you’re me, is all the carrot cake a normal person can deal with in a single month), then I wholly recommend the frosted version below. It’s moist, fresh, nutty and somehow buttery, despite the fact that there is not a drop of butter in the whole cake. But it’s also a bit fragile (from all that moistness) and it’s going to be a pain to transport it if you wanted to take it to a party. Team it with a strong espresso if you're hosting Easter dinner and everyone will love it. Plus, there’s no divisive fruit in it to make any non-raisin eaters jealous.

If, however, you’re not a frosting person, you’re more into the traditional carrot cake with dried fruit included, or you need to take this cake somewhere with you, then make the bundt version. It’s even easier, faster, and still tasty and moist with the perfect crispness just around the edges. Plus, you can pretty easily convince yourself or anyone else that this one is breakfast food, so it deserves some points just for that.

*The recipe actually calls for an angel food cake pan, which I assume means a tube pan. But I hate angel food cake and refuse to buy a pan specifically for a food that I don’t even like, so I used my bundt pan. It turned out fine, and when I brought it in to work, one guy thought I had carved the cake into a wheel shape, complete with the ridges all the way around. So maybe consider using a bundt pan if you want everyone to think you’re super talented.

The verdict:
Carrot cake 1: Perfect Carrot Layer Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting

5 spoons out of five. This cake was so good, we and the houseguests we shared it with all ate it for breakfast at various points. I can’t overstate the perfection of the icing!

Carrot Cake 2: Easiest Carrot Breakfast Bundt Cake

5 spoons out of five. I know the point of pitting these two against each other was to determine which was better, but they were both so amazing I just couldn’t choose. They’re unique enough that I’m glad to have both in my arsenal and will always revert to this one for a brunch situation or whenever I need to transport a cake across town, as this one is the sturdier of the two.

Easter recipes, previously: Easter Bread & Hot Cross Buns

One year ago: Quiche a la Bramafam (Tomato & Caramelised Onion Tart)

The recipe:

Perfect Carrot Layer Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting

the directions:
cake:

Preheat oven to 150C/300F.
Line 2 8' pans with baking paper on the bottom and set aside.
Cream sugar and oil until fluffy.
Add eggs and beat well.
In a separate bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon.
Add flour mixture to creamed mixture, then fold in carrots and nuts gently, just until combined.
Pour into prepared pans and bake 25-30 minutes until a pick inserted in the middle comes out barely sticky.

Frosting:

Beat all ingredients together, chill frosting slightly, then fill and frost cake once completely cool.

the ingredients:
the cake:

2 c sugar
¾ c vegetable oil
4 eggs
2 c flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 ½ tsp soda
1 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
3 c carrots, grated
½ c pecans, chopped

the frosting:

½ c butter, melted
1 c cream cheese, softened
2 c powdered sugar, sifted
1 tsp vanilla
1 c pecans, chopped

---

The recipe:

Easiest Carrot Breakfast Bundt Cake

the directions:

Preheat oven to 160C/325F.
Grease and flour a bundt pan and set aside.
Mix sugar and oil together in a large bowl.
Add eggs, one at a time.
In a few batches, add flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt.
Add carrots, vanilla, nuts, and dates, stirring well after each addition to make sure the batter is well-incorporated.
Bake 50 minutes to 1 hour until a pick inserted into the middle comes out clean.
Let cool slightly, then turn out to cool completely.
If serving immediately, dust with powdered sugar-- otherwise skip it or it will get clumpy.

the ingredients:

2 c sugar
1 ½ c vegetable oil
4 eggs
3 c flour, sifted
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cinnamon
1 ½ tsp salt
2 c carrots, grated
1 tsp vanilla
2/3 c pecans, chopped
1 c dates, chopped
Powdered sugar for dusting (if serving immediately)

Irish Soda Bread

I've realised that there are a lot of weird things I consider Irish: the colour green and shamrocks, of course, but also archery, a girl who only has brothers, Tuesdays, peg legs, the number eleven and fog. I don't know where most of those things came from, but I'd hazard a guess that if you dug deeply enough, you'd find traces of Eleanor's best friend, my Aunt Margie, in there somewhere. Margie, as we've discussed before, was about as Irish as they come, and I assumed that her presence in Eleanor's life was the reason I couldn't find any Irish recipes in the recipe box when I searched it in advance of St. Patrick's Day last year.

But then a terrible thing happened, and on 18 March of last year, I found a recipe for Irish Soda Bread in the box. One day too late to put it to use for St. Patrick's Day, I knew I'd have to hold onto it until this year... because who knows, maybe it's bad luck to make soda bread on other days if you live in Scotland.

So here we are, a year later, and I've been dying to share this with you ever since I made it two weeks ago. I made this bread with every intention of taking it to work with me, but then I tasted it and I was smitten... so smitten I couldn't bare to share. Judson liked it so much he went back for seconds when we cut into it, and we savoured every last bite until the loaf was gone.

Having just spent a few days in Belfast last month, I never thought my soda bread would measure up to what I tasted while we were there (and oh, man, the food in Belfast was incredible). But then I made this bread and, though it had a different texture than the smooth, velvety soda bread we ate at every chance in Northern Ireland, it was so good.* Sweet and moist with a crunchy crust and a perfectly chewy centre, stitched through with currants and warm butter, this bread is the perfect way to embrace the Irish roots you know you've always wanted.

Plus, it's shaped like a shamrock, so, I mean, what better time of year to whip yourself up a loaf?

If you can't get your hands on currants, it's no big deal: swap them for golden raisins, dried cherries or just leave them out. This bread doesn't need any dressing up: serve it warm from the oven doused in melted butter and sprinkled with powdered sugar and that's all you need for a delicious, warming breakfast treat.

*I'm pretty sure a real Irish person would not qualify this as soda bread, but, since St. Patrick's Day these days is more of a non-Irish holiday anyway, who am I to quibble?

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. This is the perfect early spring, warming, toasty breakfast to help you celebrate St. Patrick's Day (or any day!) in style.

One Year ago: Creamy, Dreamy Cheesecake

The recipe:

Irish Soda Bread

the directions:

Preheat oven to 190C/375F.
Lightly grease a small baking sheet.
Into a large mixing bowl, sift flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
Mix in butter until mixture looks like coarse crumbs.
Add raisins and stir until just combined.
Add buttermilk and stir with a fork until dry ingredients are uniformly moistened.
Turn out onto floured counter and knead just until smooth (30 seconds-ish).
Shape into a ball and place on prepared baking sheet.
Press into a flattened circle with a diameter a little longer than your hand.
Coat a sharp knife in flour and slice in half almost all the way to the bottom of the loaf, then turn 90 degrees and repeat to divide loaf into quarters that are still connected at the bottom.
Bake 20-25 minutes until top of loaf is golden and sounds hollow when tapped.
Remove from oven, brush with melted butter, and sprinkle loaf with powdered sugar.
Serve immediately because it's too good not to, but bread will last for three more days if kept in an airtight container.

the ingredients:

2 c flour, sifted
2 tbsp sugar
2 tsp baking soda
3 tbsp butter, softened, plus extra for melting
½ tsp salt
1 c buttermilk
½ c currants