On Beauty

Weekends are beautiful.

Market blooms are beautiful.

And three layer cakes are beautiful.

No matter how many crumbs get in the icing.

Let’s hold these truths to be self-evident.

To make a three layer yellow cake with lemon curd and lemon frosting, which is a riff on Deb’s, you will need:

• 1 C (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 2 C sugar
• 4 eggs
• 3 C sifted self rising flour (make your own by removing two tsp. from each C, and replacing with 1 1/2 tsp. baking powder, and 1/2 tsp. salt)
• 1 C milk (I used skim, but I’d go buttermilk if you have it)
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract

For the filling:

• 1 jar lemon curd (or homemade)

For the frosting:

• 1 C (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 1 T lemon zest
• 3 T lemon juice
• 3 C powdered sugar

To make the cakes, preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease and flour 3, 8-inch cake pans.

Cream butter in the bowl of an electric mixer, fitted with the paddle attachment, till light and fluffy.  Beat in sugar, until incorporated.  One at a time, add eggs, and mix till incorporated.  Beat in flour and milk in alternating increments, starting and ending with flour.

Divide cake batter among 3 pans, and bake 25-30 minutes, or till tester comes out clean.

*A note:  If you worry about lopsided layers, you can raise the prepared pans high above the counter, and drop them straight down, to release air bubbles and ensure a more even cake.  I don’t worry about lopsided layers.

Let cakes cool completely, and remove from pans.

Place one cake layer on cake stand, and spread thin layer of lemon curd on top.  Place the next layer on that, and spread another layer of lemon curd on top.  Place the final layer of cake on top.

To prepare the frosting, beat butter and lemon zest in bowl of an electric mixer, fitted with a paddle attachment.  Add powdered sugar slowly.  When the mixture looks like it won’t hold any more powdered sugar, add the lemon zest.  Add remaining sugar and beat till smooth.  If it looks like you don’t have enough frosting, increase the speed of the mixer, to whip more frosting.

Spread frosting over cake, and serve as soon as possible.

 

Currently

Anticipating summer (less than 5 weeks, for interested parties).

Finishing 3 weeks of no spending on my credit card.

Organizing big and little items all around the house.

Washing, drying, folding, and putting away laundry all.  The.  Time.

Baking for fun again.

Dreading my trip to the dentist (#realtalk).

Listening to the Gatsby soundtrack on repeat.

Wishing I could go home for more than just a weekend.

Reading for work.  Can’t wait to be reading for fun!

Cooking more from my cookbooks and less from Pinterest.

 

 

Cooking Skills

The Kitchn tweeted about a zillion years ago, asking what cooking skills people deemed the 10 essentials.  The ones everyone should know.  What a good question.  Y’all smell a list coming, right?  Forgive me for taking some liberties with the term “cooking” skills.

1.  Know how to chop an onion.

You have to.  How many dinner recipes start with somewhere between 1/2 and 2 cups chopped onions?  Answer: almost all of them, especially if you’re cooking from The Moosewood Cookbook (hi, Wooden Nickels).  It physically pains me to see people who take longer than 60 seconds chop an onion.  It doesn’t have to be that way, kids.  You too, can chop onions faster than a speeding bullet.  Almost all of my (mad) knife skills come from watching copious amounts of The Food Network from tenth grade through college.  Chopping an onion is something I am so glad I can do in the blink of an eye.  If you can’t dedicate the next 6 years to watching The Food Network, check out Ree’s post.

2.  Know how to cook pasta (and other grains).

Sorry to you no, or low carb folk, but a day isn’t a day without a starchy element of sorts.  Pasta has long been a favorite of mine, and over time, I’ve honed my cooking method.  Bring a large pot of water to a boil, add at least a tablespoon of salt, and cook the pasta a minute less than the package suggests.  Drain and drizzle with olive oil.  Or pile on the butter and cheese.  If pasta isn’t your thing, perfect the cooking of your grain of choice.  By itself, it’s something you can eat when you can’t think of anything else.  Accompanied by other ingredients, the possibilities are endless.

3.  Know how to plan meals for you or your family.

This is something that looks different for everyone.  For me, it means setting aside between 10 and 30 minutes one weekend day to page through cookbooks, plan our nightly dinners, and write out a grocery list.  Then, at least during a good week, it only takes one trip to the grocery store to be all set.  The weeks I plan out my meals (and stick to the plan) always run more smoothly than those that don’t.  Nights are less stressful because I’ve already anticipated how much time I will or won’t have for dinner, and adjusted accordingly.

4.  Know how to season (and re-season) a cast iron skillet.

I don’t have this one mastered yet, but I hope and pray that in 30 years, the floor of my cast iron skillet looks as slick and well-loved as Grandma Glass of Milk’s.  Now that we’re talking about it, I think I’ll try this technique again this weekend.

5.  Know how to make something by heart.

Everyone needs a go-to recipe, and Wooden Nickels’ macaroni and cheese is mine.  I’d love to say it’s for those times when I need something and I just can’t think of anything else, or when I need to feed others on a minute’s notice, and it is indeed perfect for those things.  But the real reason you need to master the art of making something by heart is because life is hard.  Bad things happen.  And when life gets harder, or tough times strike, if you can walk into the kitchen and pour your heart into something you’ve done a million times, and have it turn out exactly the way it always does, you get a little bit of control back.  And that’s an immensely good feeling.

6.  Know how to make a layer cake.  From scratch.

Cupcakes had their moment, and everyday cakes are always a welcome addition at the table, but layer cakes are for celebrating.  There’s something about their height that makes their presence at the table exciting.  Find a favorite flavor combination and challenge yourself to think outside the box mix.  Glam your creation up with tall candles, and no matter how cluttered the rest of your house is, the party’s in your kitchen.  Look for a new recipe on this here blog soon!

7.  Know how to pop champagne.

I have an immense fear of champagne being popped.  Just the sight of a beautiful, but corked, bottle is enough to send me ducking for cover.  I’m convinced this is linked to my fear of the sound of balloons popping.  Regardless, champagne is my favorite beverage of all, and this is a fear I have no choice but to conquer.  Opening wine is kid stuff.  If you know how to pop champagne, you’re in another league.  There’s no occasion you can’t tout with a pop, fizz, and clink.

8.  Know how to make salad dressing.

In my dream world, I never buy anything pre-made from the store.  You could come over, and when you helped yourself to a drink, you wouldn’t see any jars with labels in my refrigerator, just mason jars full of jams, sauces, and stocks.  Alas, we don’t live in my dream world, and while I’d love to have you over, and you should feel welcome to help yourself to a drink, you’re not going to see those jars.  You’re going to see the same stuff that’s in everyone else’s pantry–Heinz ketchup, Rao’s spaghetti sauce, and carton upon carton of low-sodium chicken broth.  The one thing you’ll note missing, however, is salad dressing in a bottle with Paul Newman’s face on it.  Not that I have anything against Paul Newman’s face, because, duh, his eyes are so dreamy.  But making your own salad dressing is easy as pour, seal shut, and shake, and I dare you to find me someone who doesn’t have time for that.  Leaving out sugar and artificial colors and flavorings is an added bonus.

9.  Know how to set the table.

Sure, you’re in that young phase of life where more often than not, dinner happens in front of a coffee table instead of a formal table.  But setting the table is a skill everyone should know how to do.  Regardless of the formality of your nightly dinners, there will come a time when you invite someone you want to think highly of you, and it would be terrible to be judged simply because you didn’t know that a spoon goes on the table, whether or not your meal requires one.  Let your guests save judgement for your conversational skills.

10.  Know how to roast a chicken.

If you can’t make any other entree, get roast chicken under your belt.  Not only is it one of the most inoffensive foods around, but, when perfected, with crispy, golden skin giving way to rich flavorful meat beneath, it’s divine.  You can serve it on a weeknight, as it requires little to no hands-on prep, or you can serve it on a weekend, and let the leftovers carry you through you your Monday-Friday sandwiches.  Though all you need to make perfect roast chicken are butter, salt and pepper, you can get as fancy as you like with it.  This Giada classic is one of my favorites.

Images:
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Anatomy of a Week

When DALS posted their Anatomy of a Week, I loved the concept, because I’ve been in a meal planning rut lately.  This is troubling, as someone who loves to cook, because I am spending way too much time mulling over the proper balance of carbs versus meat versus leafy green vegetables that need to grace our table, and not nearly enough time enjoying food.  The equation is further complicated by the disappearance of spare minutes from most weeknights on the calendar.  There are times when I’m in a true groove in the kitchen and even last night’s leftovers get worked into the evening fare.  But now is not one of those times. So in the name of keeping in real, and nothing being better than peering into someone else’s kitchen, I present to you, the anatomy of my week.  Spoiler alert:  It contains a ton of these smoothies.

Monday:  My husband is at grad school on Mondays, so I typically make myself a smoothie  loaded with spinach, and work on dinner for him (which becomes my lunch the following day).  After a post-work meeting and my weekly grocery trip, Monday was prepackaged gnocchi with oil and herbs.

Tuesday:  We eat together tonight, but it’s another green monster on my side of the table, while Deb’s tomato and sausage risotto went on the table for my better half.  This one makes regular appearances at Casa Glass of Milk.  And this was my best batch to date.  Yep, lunch for me again the following day.

Wednesday:  Another solo night for me.  What I love about having my husband arrive so late two nights a week is that it makes low and slow food a weeknight dinner option.  He’s not home till 10 p.m. so something that requires two hours of simmering is still a possibility.  I made Simple Chili using a recipe passed down by a friend (see below).  I used turkey this time, which was not nearly as amazing as making it with beef.  I also failed to take a picture of it, so please accept this beautiful picture of azaleas in bloom, plus my finger in the top right, in its stead.

Thursday:  In which I run to the grocery store because we’re out of milk and bananas, but also pick up a carton of ice cream.  I was going to make dinner.  I really was.  Thursdays are typically my only truly free nights, with nothing planned after work.  But then I got home and realized that I had been running around so much for the past three evenings that my daily laundry loads were all I could handle.  Trader Joe’s frozen orange chicken to the rescue!  It’s a smoothie for me, though, so I can justify that ice cream!

Friday:  On Friday I picked up my aunt, who was in town to stay with us overnight, and got her unpacked.  Shortly thereafter, we walked to get my favorite takeout in the area.  We got all our favorites, and tried a couple new dishes, too.

Aside from running the blender, I really only cooked for two nights, which is about as close to not cooking as I can get.  We’ll have to revisit this week at a glance in the summer, to see what happens when my work schedule comes to a (long overdue) screeching halt.

To make enough simple chili for days, you will need:

• 2 pounds ground beef (yes, I used turkey this time, but no, it’s not nearly as good as the real thing)
• 2 onions, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, minced or crushed
• 2 cans diced tomates
• 2 tsp. cumin
• 6 T chili powder (yep, 6!)
• 1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper, or more, to taste
• salt, to taste

Brown meat in a bottom of a large stockpot.  Transfer cooked meat to bowl, and drain excess fat from pan.  Add oil to pan, if necessary, and cook onions, 5 minutes, till translucent.  Add garlic, and cook for one minute more.  Add remaining ingredients, including meat and any juices at the bottom of the bowl.  Cover, and simmer on low heat, 2 hours.

On Forgetfulness

Welcome to the time of year where life seems to go from 0-60 in an instant.  Ahhh, spring.  You tease us with your gorgeous weather, and bite us in the butt with your ability to rob us of all time to enjoy it.  I barely have a minute to come up for air and catch my breath.  And because my brain seems to have gone out the window along with any semblance of me-time I was hanging onto, I’ve been cooking dinners that have been relatively hands-on each night.

This is a terrible plan.

I need to be making things that can sit in the oven for the better part of an hour, while I run around like a chicken with my head cut off do the household chores I need to do.  I do not need to be making things I can stir and fuss over while catching up on HomeFries podcasts (Joy, Tracy, Tsh, I’m so behind!).  When I make things like this, I still try to catch up on chores, and end up forgetting to add the frozen peas that would have added another dimension to my dinner plate.  Oh well.  It was still a pretty darn good meal.  And yes, yes it is resting atop the Joy the Baker Cookbook.

To make Chicken with Israeli Couscous, with Tomato and Lemon, and with or without peas, for four, you will need:

• 3 T olive oil, divided
• 1 C Israeli couscous
• 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (but oh, skin-on thighs would be amazing here; brown them first)
• 1/2 medium onion, sliced thinly
• 4 Roma tomatoes, sliced lengthwise into 6 pieces
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 4 strips lemon peel, about 2 inches in length
• pinch of saffron (obviously optional, who can afford saffron?)
• 1/2 C dry white wine (Sauvignon Blanc is always a winner)
• 1 1/2 C low sodium chicken broth
• 1/2 tsp. coarse salt
• 1 C frozen peas
• 1 lemon, cut in wedges, for serving

Heat 1 T oil in skillet.  Toast couscous for about a minute.  Transfer to bowl and return skillet to heat.  Add remaining oil and brown chicken breasts for 3 minutes per side.  Transfer to plate, reserving juices.

Reduce heat to medium and add onion, and cook, stirring frequently, for 3 minutes.  Add tomatoes, garlic, lemon peel, and saffron, stirring often, until tomatoes begin to brown, 2-3 minutes.

Return chicken to skillet, and add wine.  Cook four minutes, and add broth, salt, and couscous, and stir.  Reduce heat to low, cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until couscous is tender and chicken is cooked through, 12-14 minutes.  Add peas, and let heat cook them through.  Serve immediately with lemon.

Spring Playlist

Not a running playlist this time, but a life playlist.  Spring is about opening the sunroof, rolling down the windows and belting your favorite jams.  Cupcakes optional (but see below for the recipe of the one on the right).

On repeat this week:

• The Best of What’s Around – Dave Matthews (the first song you should play the second the weather smiles upon you)
• Wagon Wheel – Old Crow Medicine Show (Not Hootie.  Sorry, Hootie.)
• Ho, Hey – Lennon and Maisy Stella (Yes, from Nashville)
• All My Days – Alexi Murdoch
• Get the Girl Back – Hanson (Just for you, AGOMYR)
• When Your Mind’s Made Up – The Swell Season
• Mirrors – JT (How much does this remind you of old school *Nsync?)
• Radioactive – Imagine Dragons
• Carry On – fun. (Find me a fun. song I don’t love)

While the Bailey’s cupcakes with Bailey’s buttercream I whipped up a week or so ago didn’t blow me away, there’s potential here.  The thought of them, of course, began as a dream of a chocolate cupcake with clouds of frosting, and a chocolate drizzle on top.  Then, also of course, time got the best of me, and they were simply a work with the box-mix you have kind of jam.  So I replaced 1/2 C water in the recipe on the box with Baileys, and otherwise prepared the cupcakes as directed.  I whipped two sticks of softened butter, added 4 or 5 C of powdered sugar, a pinch of kosher salt, and a tablespoon of Bailey’s and piped the icing with my favorite tip.

 

I’ll Try Anything Once

When Tracy Shutterbean posts a recipe that requires soaking a bowl of chocolate chips in half a teaspoon of bourbon, for the record, I’m in.

I had no idea what happens when you soak chocolate chips in bourbon, nor a clue about why one might want to soak chocolate chips in bourbon.  But it can’t be bad, right?  I’ll try anything once.

I love cakes baked and frosted in 9 x 13 pans.  They look so much like a picnic to me–perfect for sharing.  They’re always best served in little squares on brightly colored paper plates.  Typically, these cakes are also the easiest to make.  This one is a little different in that there are a couple steps going on in the making of this cookie-cake hybrid.  None of them are particularly difficult, but there are a couple more than usual.

The end result, though, a cake that tastes like a beloved cookie, topped with swirls of cream cheese frosting, is the best I’ve made in some time.  It already feels like an instant classic; something I know I’ll make for years to come.

To make an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie cake for sharing, you will need:

For the cake:

• 8 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips
• 1 1/2 C + 2 T all purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp. bourbon
• 1 C rolled oats
• 1 stick butter, unsalted, at room temperature
• 2 large eggs, beaten
• 3/4 C sugar
• 1 1/4 C brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• 1 tsp. baking powder
• 1 1/2 tsp. cinnamon

For the frosting:

• 4 T salted butter, at room temperature
• 6 T cream cheese, at room temperature
• 1 C powdered sugar
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  Butter the bottom and sides of a 9 x 13 cake pan.

Place chocolate chips in a small bowl, and pour bourbon on top.  Toss with 2 T flour to coat, and let sit.

Heat 1 1/4 C water till boiling.  Place oats and butter in  bowl.  Pour boiling water over oat mixture and stir till butter is melted.  Set aside till water is absorbed, about 20 minutes.

Whisk eggs, sugars, salt, baking soda, baking powder, and cinnamon in large bowl.  Fold in oatmeal mixture till incorporated.  Fold in remaining flour till incorporated.  Stir in chocolate chips.

Pour batter into pan and bake 35-40 minutes, till a tester comes out clean.

Let cake cool completely in pan.  To make frosting, combine butter and cream cheese in the bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment.  Mix till creamy, about 3 minutes.  Slowly add powdered sugar and vanilla, and mix till smooth.  Frost cake and serve as-is.