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

Battle of the Biscuits: Classic Biscuits vs. Emergency Biscuits

Classic Biscuit in front, emergency biscuit behind!

You guys, I love American biscuits. In fact, living in a country that does not understand the Breakfast Perfection that is an (American) Bacon, Egg and Cheese Biscuit is probably the only downfall of living in Scotland. But they’re totally one of those foods I have never been able to make very well myself. The second Christmas Judson and I were dating, we decided to make ham and biscuits for a progressive dinner we were invited to.* Unsurprisingly, this turned out… poorly. So poorly, in fact, that 20 minutes before the dinner was to start, when we realised our biscuits had come out more like crackers, I had to drive to the nearest Whole Foods and buy a half dozen varieties of fancy mustards and chutneys to spread the biscuits/hard tack with to try to remedy the situation. Judson’s neighbours were nice about it, but I was pretty disappointed in us. I mean, biscuits! They have 3 ingredients! They shouldn’t be difficult!

I seem to have inherited my mom’s complete inability to make biscuits, though, (sorry, mom!), so I’ve been apprehensive (at best) to tackle these two biscuit recipes. First of all, why did Eleanor even have these? I’m pretty sure my mom didn’t taste a biscuit until she was in her 20s, and I can’t imagine Eleanor making (or eating) something as southern as biscuits… but here we are. I had a bit of luck with the ‘shortcakes’ from this strawberry shortcake recipe back in the summer, but although the flavour on that batch was great, they were still dry enough that I wouldn’t have enjoyed them by themselves, not coated in juicy strawberries and whipped cream.

So I’ve been both stoked to make this recipe (potential for biscuits!) but also nervous because what if I get my hopes up and then they go the way all my other biscuit forays have gone? I delayed making these two recipes for ages because I was nervous, but then I realised the fact that one of them is called ‘Emergency Biscuits’ was just too funny not to share. What possible emergency is there where biscuits are the only solution? You’re stuck in a flood of gravy with nothing to sop up the mess? There’s an abundance of fried eggs, crispy bacon and melty cheese in your kitchen and you need an edible thing to sandwich it all between before you chow down? As it turns out, Emergency Biscuits have basically the exact same ingredients in very nearly the exact same quantities as the regular biscuits, but instead of patting them out and cutting them with a biscuit cutter (ahem, juice glass—why would I have a biscuit cutter when I can’t make biscuits?), you just take a spoonful of dough and pat it into a small mound.

So I made these recipes back to back, baked ‘em both up, and then did the taste-testing. Judson mocked the shape and overall look of the ‘emergency biscuits,’ but then upon tasting both side by side, we came to the conclusion that the emergency variety was actually better. However, I’m going to go ahead and caveat that the only reason we liked the emergency biscuits better is because they are easier to make, and thus came out better for this experienced non-biscuit baker. If you’re good at making biscuits, I have no idea which one you’ll like better, but if you’re as bad at it as me, then start with the emergency version—they’re simple and nearly foolproof:  the perfect beginner’s biscuit!

Emergency biscuit: slightly less smooth, but also a lot fluffier!

*Whose idea was this? The year before we made shrimp dip and a plate of crackers. What hubris possessed us to think that in one year our cooking skills had progressed from ‘mix together cream cheese and shrimp’ to ‘make an entire ham and enough biscuits to feed 30 people’?

The verdict:
Emergency Biscuits:

5 spoons out of five. Easier than the regular kind, easier to clean up since you don’t have to make a mess of the countertop, and even though they’re not quite as pretty as a nice flat-topped biscuit, they have the perfect buttery crumb that makes me hungry just thinking about it.

Classic Biscuits:

3 spoons out of five. They’re tasty and still relatively easy, but my skill level is still not great and so mine came out quite a bit flatter than I wanted them to, though they were still delicious, soft, and tasted great with salted butter and a nice slick of marmalade.

the recipe:

Emergency Biscuits

the directions:

Preheat oven to 230C/450F.
Sift flour once, add baking powder and salt, then sift again.
Cut in shortening, then add milk very slowly, stirring until a soft dough is formed.
Drop from a tablespoon onto an ungreased cookie sheet.
Bake 10-12 minutes until golden brown.
Makes about 16 biscuits.

the ingredients:

2 c flour, sifted
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
4 tbsp butter or shortening
1 c milk

---

The recipe:

Classic Biscuits

the directions:

Preheat oven to 230C/450F.
Sift flour once, then measure.
Add baking powder and salt, then sift again.
Cut in shortening, then add milk very slowly, stirring until a soft dough is formed.
Turn out on lightly floured surface and knead very gently for 20 seconds, or enough for dough to take on a basic shape.
Pat or roll dough 1/2-inch thick and cut with a floured biscuit cutter or juice glass.
Bake on ungreased cookie sheet 10-12 minutes until golden brown.
Makes about 12 biscuits.

The ingredients:

2 c flour, sifted
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
4 tbsp butter or shortening
3/4 c milk