Can-Do Carnival Cake, or, 'I Got a Job and It's Time to Celebrate' Cake

Alright, I'm back. I took the summer off for a whole variety of reasons, some of them good, some of them dumb. Here's what happened while I was away:

• I quit my job.

• We visited Isle of Mull with friends who came to Scotland from Atlanta.

• I started a new job 2 days later.

• We spent a weekend in Amsterdam, where Judson had a conference.

• I surprised Judson with a week-long trip to Tokyo for his birthday.

• We went to Mont Saint-Michel, France, for a long weekend.

• The Edinburgh Festival kicked off, and with it went all my evenings, weekends, and yes, even mornings.

• We visited Athens for a few days with two friends over from the US.

• One of my closest friends visited Edinburgh and then she and I headed to Paris for a few days to celebrate the ten-year anniversary of the day we moved there when we were at university.

I shall cover all of these things in turn, but first, the thing that most affects my day-to-day life and the biggest reason I inadvertently took the summer off. You might know we moved to Scotland three years ago so that I could get my master's degree in history of art from the University of Edinburgh. I did that, then got a job at a marketing agency doing... basically the same thing I did before I got my master's degree. It was fine, but I was still hoping to work more in the field I had gone back to school for, so I took the initiative and put in my notice at work back in April. Within a week, I had a job offer at a fine art auction house here in Edinburgh, working on their marketing and events, and within a month, I had started working in my new position... less than a block from my old office.

It's been an incredible experience so far-- I've learned more about art and auctioneering than I thought I would, I've gotten to try on giant diamond rings, handle beautiful paintings by Bellany, Fergusson, and others, and seen more weird taxidermy than you can shake a stick at. (Favourite so far: a stuffed frog posed as though he were jumping, wearing a top hat and tuxedo coat). I've got a lot more to go before I'm happy with myself, but for entering a brand-new industry, it's not too shabby for 3 ½ months in.

It's great getting to work for a company I believe in, doing work I enjoy, and interacting with beautiful objects day in and day out-- so while it's still stressful, and I still have my off days, I wouldn't trade it for the world... Except for the fact that somehow everyone thinks I am the go-to person for any and all IT issues that come up in the building. ME! If you've ever met me, you know that A) I still don't know how to work the TV that Judson and I have had since we got married, B) I only sync my iPhone about once every six months because I'm always afraid I'll erase something, and C) I don't really even understand how the internet works. Inevitably, trusting me as an IT resource has ended badly, but despite the fact that it's not in my job description, people keep coming to me with questions. All this means is that I average one open ticket a day with our external IT management company, who now know me by heart whenever I call. I guess the bar for tech knowledge is just low in my office.

So I needed a few months off after starting the new gig-- the first few weeks were so mentally exhausting that it was all I could do to make it through the day, then by the time I got home, I was ready to go to bed at 7pm. There wasn't time for cooking, much less for photographing, writing, typing up a recipe and getting it all online, so the hiatus commenced and continued for much longer than I wanted it to. The truth is, once you stop, it's hard to start back up again. Not because I didn't want to, and certainly not because I had nothing to say, but the mental barrier of 'but I don't even remember how to do it anymore!' can really mess up your mind. I spent the summer reading instead, and polished off so many great books I had to start a GoodReads account to keep track of them all.

So this is a recipe to make on a weekend. It's a little bit time consuming, and because of the nature of icing, you're going to make a mess. But it's so worth it. I made it with special imported chocolate chips sent to me by a dear friend-- a baker who knows I can't get them here, so she sends me bags of chocolate chips a few times a year. This cake looks fine, but it isn't really a showstopper in terms of it's looks-- it's not the kind of thing you want to take to a party, but it is the kind of thing you want to make if you have houseguests coming over, or a stressful week ahead when you know you're going to want a treat by the time the evening rolls around. It's got a perfect velvet texture, and the dense chocolate frosting is made with so much actual chocolate that it firms up to a perfect shell around the incredibly soft, moist cake. But just before all that soft, dense texture gets to be too cloying, the crunchy nut filling breaks it up and adds the perfect counterbalance to the frosting. It's rich, delicious, and a perfect recipe to welcome fall.

Before I took my hiatus, I was making a chocolate cake every month. Consider this your first post-hiatus cake-- more still to come!

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. It's delicious, but I'm knocking off a spoon because unless you work really fast when this comes out of the oven, it's difficult to get out of the pan and the frosting thickens so quickly that I had to frost it while it was still over the double-boiler.

One year ago: Zucchini Nut Bread (Courgette Walnut Tea Cake) 

the recipe:

'Can-Do' Carnival Cake

the directions:
cake:

Heat oven to 175C/350F.
Grease and flour well 2 round cake pans (8” or 9”).
Measure all cake ingredients into large mixing bowl, blend 15-20 seconds on low, scraping bowl constantly.
Beat 1 ½ to 2 minutes on medium, scraping bowl occasionally.
Pour into prepared pans.
Bake 30-35 minutes or until wooden pick inserted in middle comes out fairly clean (a little chocolate on it is fine).
IMMEDIATELY turn cakes out onto a cooling rack (otherwise chocolate chips will set and cement them into the pans forever).
Cool while you prepare filling and frosting.

filling:

In saucepan, mix sugar and flour, then stir in milk.
Heat to boiling, stirring constantly.
Boil and stir 3 minutes.
Remove from heat.
Stir in butter, nuts, and vanilla.
Allow to cool thoroughly before spreading between cake layers.

Frosting:

Spread filling between layers of cake, then stack layers.
Combine chocolate and shortening or butter.
Melt in a double-boiler over hot water.
Remove from heat.
Stir in vanilla and salt.
Pour into mixing bowl.
eat in sugar alternately with milk until frosting is fluffy and thick.

the ingredients:
the cake:

2 c flour
1 c dark brown sugar
½ c sugar
3 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
½ tsp baking soda
½ c shortening (or Stork, if you're in the UK)
1 ¼ c milk
3 eggs
1 ½ tsp vanilla
½ c semi-sweet chocolate chips*

the filling:

¼ c brown sugar
2 tbsp flour
½ c milk
2 tbsp butter
½ c pecans, chopped
2 tsp vanilla

the frosting:

6 oz semi-sweet chocolate**
1 tbsp shortening, Stork, or butter
1 tsp vanilla
¼ tsp salt
1 ¼ c powdered sugar, sifted
3 tbsp milk

*These were supposed to be finely chopped, but I literally didn't notice that until just now, so mine were whole and
I daresay the recipe was better for it.
**I didn't want to waste my chocolate chips on this, since it
just gets melted, so I used baking chocolate. If you live in
the land of chocolate chips, feel free to use those instead.

Hungarian Chocolate Cake, or, Swiss Cake Roll

When I was a kid, I loved Swiss Cake Rolls. Not the fancy dessert—the Little Debbie cakes. I know, I’m more embarrassed than you, trust me. When I think back now about the weird chocolate coating you can peel off the exterior, that waxy filling, and the dried up cake, it seriously grosses me out. But in the spirit of Smitten Kitchen’s Twinkie Bundt Cake, the idea of elevating that boxed snack to a higher plane of existence by using homemade fresh whipped cream as the filling, the lightest sponge cake ever created as the base, and a quick ganache-style glaze to pour over the whole thing… well, that appeals to me for sure.

However, when I started making this, I had no idea what I was getting myself into: a flourless, butter-free chocolate cake that’s not dense and chewy, but instead so light it will collapse if you just look at it wrong? The directions include ‘lining the pan with waxed paper’ before it goes into the oven and cutting the cake into quarters after it cools, and what does that even mean? Where am I supposed to find a 10x15 pan? Is this actually a Hungarian cake, or is this like the time the recipe box tried to trick me into thinking that this faux-pudding was French?

I have a really hard time finding cocoa in Scotland, but if yours looks like mine, sift it too!

Some of these things are unanswerable anomalies: in a country where waxed paper does not exist, I was forced to use parchment. But I at least had the foresight (thanks to myriad episodes of The Great British Bake Off) to know that greasing the parchment, while it would make its texture more similar to waxed paper, would also add unnecessary fat to the cake, which would keep it from rising or make it collapse at the end of its baking time. The parchment wasn’t the death of this cake, to be fair. The death of this cake was the fact that the oven was probably not quite hot enough when I put it in, and then when I tried to get it out, I couldn’t tell if it was done, so I kept opening and closing the oven door, and I think that’s what made it… collapse a bit.

The collapse meant that the middle was thinner than the sides, which meant it didn’t exactly stack well—something remedied (slightly) by spreading a thick layer of whipped cream between and on top of all four quadrants. But that glaze, you guys. That glaze was thick and luscious (as all ganache and ganache-type chocolate sauces should be), and it set up nice and firm and smooth without a hint of grittiness or bitterness… but when I poured it onto the waiting cake, it gushed down the sides just like Gloopy, the chocolate monster from Candy Land. Add to this the fact that I'm not an expert dessert decorator to begin with, and, well, this isn't a cake I'll be taking to a party anytime soon. But man, oh man, is it delicious. And the best part? It somehow gets even better the second day! (Spoiler alert: it gets better because the cake presses down on the layers, the whipped cream soaks into the cake, making it nice and moist, and the chocolate glaze turns into a dense shell that is the perfect foil for the lightweight, airy filling.

It has to be served from chilled, so this isn't a great dish to bring to a cookout or a picnic (unless you have a cooler and a deathwish), but if you're hosting a summertime dinner party and need a nice cool treat, this is perfect for you... Or, if you're afraid yours is going to look like mine, then I beg you to at least just make it for yourself because, seriously, it's just the tastiest.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. (I give it 5 spoons on flavour, but I had to knock off 1 for difficulty's sake because I get really nervous about flourless, meringue-style cakes)

one year ago: Lemon Squares

the recipe:

Hungarian Chocolate Cake

the directions:
cake:

Line a 10x15 pan (or the largest rectangular pan you have) with waxed paper (ideally) or parchment paper.
Preheat oven to 175C/350F.
Separate eggs and set yolks aside.
Beat whites until stiff but not dry.
Beat in sugar, one tablespoon at a time, until mixture is smooth and glossy.
Fold in cocoa as gently as possible.
In a separate bowl, beat egg yolks until thick and pale yellow.
Fold yolks and vanilla into cocoa mixture very gently, then spread mixture into prepared tin.
Bake 12-15 minutes until just set.
While cake bakes, line a cooling rack with waxed paper (ideally) or parchment paper.
When cake is just set, remove from oven and turn out onto lined cooling rack.
Remove pan liner that's now on top very carefully.
Allow to sit at room temperature until cooled, then cut into quarters.
Spread the bottom layer with whipped cream and stack the next layer on top, repeating until all layers are used, then spread the top with whipped cream as well.
Put in refrigerator to chill while making the chocolate glaze.

Glaze:

Melt together butter and chocolate over very low heat until smooth.
Beat in boiling water, powdered sugar, salt, and vanilla until smooth.
If needed, add more boiling water, one spoonful at a time, until mixture is thick, glossy, and very smooth.
Pour glaze over the cake, allowing to drip down the sides, spreading until even.
Refrigerate until chocolate has set, then slice and serve.

the ingredients:
the cake:

5 eggs
¼ tsp salt
1 c powdered sugar, sifted
¼ c cocoa
1 tsp vanilla
1 c double cream (for whipping)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the glaze:

2 tbsp butter
2 oz baking chocolate (unsweetened)
2 tbsp boiling water
1 c powdered sugar, sifted
Pinch of salt
¼ tsp vanilla

Lemon Meringue Pie

I've been excited about making this recipe since I found it in the box when I searched through it for the first time-- this is the oldest dated recipe I've found in the box so far, and it's from April/May 1941-- 75 years ago exactly! I love that Eleanor chose to save this recipe-- it's from an ad for The Brooklyn Union Gas Company, promoting gas-powered refrigerators and stoves, and it's just adorably retro, with info on how to measure the heat on your new gas-powered stove, as well as how functional and useful your new gas refrigerator will be (as a sidenote, I've never even fathomed that a refrigerator COULD BE gas-powered, so maybe that's an innovation we've already moved past?).

What I love most about it, though, is the glimpse into pre-World War II 1940s America that it affords-- the ad seems to be pushing the notion that everything in the US is ok almost frantically, reminding the reader that 'approximately 2,000,000 loaves of bread, plus an even larger quantity of rolls, muffins, cakes, and cookies' are eaten by New Yorkers every day, and hyping the affordability and usefulness of the gas ranges, ovens, and refrigerators available to purchase for only '$5 down!' It feels a bit like protesting too much, which makes sense as it was released at a time when the rest of the world was already involved in a generation-altering war and the US was stubbornly trying to pretend like all was well, despite the persistent economic depression and the rest of the world collapsing around their ears.

Eleanor would only have been 20 when she came across the ad, probably having just moved out on her own for the first time, and I love that it somehow stuck in her recipe box for 51 years, through countless moves, a marriage, two kids, and literally thousands of meals. To me, it speaks of aspiration, hope to grow up and have a kitchen of her own where she could take advantage of her regular paychecks to buy herself a cutting-edge gas-powered refrigerator and make whatever desserts she wanted, and maybe even hope for a time after the war ended, when rations would be gone and she'd have access to all the eggs, fruit, flour and butter she wanted. It's still spotless, though some of the creases have started to tear, which leaves me wondering how often she actually made the fish pie or this lemon meringue pie on the recipe card, but the fish pie was incredible and the lemon meringue pie, though not the easiest recipe I've ever made, was the perfect cool, tart-but-still-slightly-sweet dessert for this time of year.

I always assumed that Eleanor would have made tons of lemon-based desserts once she moved to Florida, where citrus grows wild and she had a giant grapefruit tree in her own backyard, but then I remembered what happens to meringue in Florida, and it's not a pretty sight. Picture 80% humidity, no air conditioner, and a dessert that needs to stay perfectly dry in order to be crisp. It's no wonder I had never tried meringue until I was 28 years old and moved to Scotland. So maybe this wasn't Eleanor's go-to dessert after moving to Florida in the late 1950s, but she had already been carrying this recipe around for nearly 20 years by then, so who knows-- maybe this was her favourite dessert to make on hot New York summer nights when she was a single girl younger than I am now. I may never know the answers to that, but I do know that this pie is delicious and you should totally make it for your next barbecue shindig.

 

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. The pie itself deserves more, but the crust was a bit tougher than I wanted it to be, and making a meringue really stresses me out, even though in this instance it came out just perfectly.

One year ago: Perfect, Crustless cheesecake

the recipe:

Lemon Meringue Pie

the directions:
crust:

Preheat oven to 225C/450F.
Sift together flour and salt.
Cut in 1/3 c shortening until mixture is the consistency of coarse cornmeal.
Cut in remaining shortening until particles are pea-sized.
Sprinkle water over dough, 1 tbsp at a time.
Work lightly and quickly with a fork until mixture forms a mass that leaves the sides of the bowl clean.
Chill in refrigerator for 30 minutes.
Divide in half, roll on lightly floured board, place gently in pie pan, line with parchment and weigh down with beans or pie weights, and bake 10-15 minutes until golden and cooked through.
(Freeze remaining dough for another occasion).

Filling:

Mix sugar, 1 ½ c water, and salt in a double boiler or over very low heat.
Cook until mixture boils.
Whisk cornstarch with remaining water until smooth, then add to syrup and cook for 20 minutes.
Beat egg yolks in a separate mixing bowl.
Pour sugar mixture slowly over egg yolks, whisking constantly to avoid eggs cooking.
Return mixture to double boiler and cook 3 minutes, stirring constantly.
Add butter and allow to cool for 15-20 minutes.
Add fruit juice and zest.
Pour into baked shell, place in refrigerator, and prepare the meringue.

Meringue:

Preheat oven to 160C/325F.
Place egg whites in bowl of electric mixer and add salt.
Beat until stiff, but not too dry.
Add sugar slowly, one tbsp at a time, beating at high speed constantly until mixture is glossy and forms stiff peaks.
Spread on pie and bake about 15 minutes, until meringue is crisp to the touch and slightly brown at the edges.

the ingredients:
the crust*:

2 c flour
½ tsp salt
2/3 c shortening, divided
2 tbsp water, very cold, approximately

 

 

 

 

the filling:

1 c sugar
1 ¾ c water, divided
1/8 tsp salt
5 tbsp cornstarch
2 egg yolks, beaten well
1 tbsp butter
5 tbsp lemon juice
Grated zest of 2 lemons

 

 

the meringue:

2 egg whites
Very small pinch of salt
4 tbsp sugar

*Crust makes enough for one double- or two single-crust pies.