Bake a cake

The biggest highlight of the past month, food-wise, was having the opportunity to make a wedding cake for a stranger. Well, a friend of a friend.

I was introduced to T, the bride, through a friend at Sunset. T lives in Boston, and our mutual friend thought we'd hit it off. We exchanged "let's have coffee" emails and that was that, until she emailed me for some restaurant recommendations. She and her fiancé had decided to elope to San Francisco. Where should they go for dinner afterward? Oh, and they both have the same birthday, June 26, so their wedding day was also going to be their joint birthday.

Who wouldn't find that plan at least a little bit romantic and inspiring? Actually, I know several people, but they just came out of divorces, and I don't blame them. Once you see the flip side of something, it's hard to get caught up in the flourishes. But meanwhile, I had a bunch of time on my hands. So I said "Go to Quince or Fleur de Lys. And hey! Let me make you a wedding cake."

After I hit "send", it occurred to me that this was the sort of offer that scares people. It could certainly read as an odd, vaguely inappropriate idea to propose to a stranger. I wondered if she'd worry that saying "yes" obliged her to, I dunno, be my best friend for life. There was a good chance she'd just thank me for the recommendations and politely ignore the cake part. But she got it.

The cake was made up of two layers, with each layer split and filled. Based on the couple's favorite flavors, I made a tres-leches layer cake for the bottom section, then put a simple chiffon cake with lemon-mango filling (really just store-bought mango butter doctored with lemon juice) on top. I frosted the whole thing with whipped cream and covered my mistakes with roses. It was my first wedding cake and I'm no master. But man, it was fun (that's the bride with the just-delivered cake). It's an honor when the food you cook can have a place of importance in someone's life.

The best cake

I edited a story in this month's issue of Sunset about Doña Tomás restaurant in Oakland. It's just a simple party menu, but these recipes were some of my favorite yet: garlicky shrimp-cilantro tacos, crisp chicken tacos, beet and orange salad, and tres leches cake.

That last recipe is so unbelievably good that I'm copying it here in the hope that someone will make it. We were literally making up reasons to keep retesting it ("Uh, let's see if the whipped cream sets up differently on an overcast day." "Did you weigh the raspberries?"). Forget any mushy, too-sweet tres leches cakes you may have had. This is more like a dulce de leche cake. And who doesn't like that?

The method is simple: Bake the cake (a foolproof genoise), split it in half, soak with the three-milk syrup (condensed milk, goat's milk, and cream cooked down until thick and caramelized), and layer with whipped cream and raspberries. It's easier than you'd expect. And it tastes best when made a day or two ahead of time. It's my new birthday/holiday/dinner party standby.

Tres leches cake with raspberries

For cake:
6 large eggs
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
6 tablespoons melted butter

For tres leches sauce:
1 can (12 oz.) evaporated goat milk (see Notes)
6 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 tablespoons corn syrup
1 stick cinnamon (about 2 in.)
1/8 teaspoon baking soda mixed with 2 tsp. water
2/3 cup canned sweetened condensed milk
1 1/4 cups whipping cream

For filling and frosting:
1 3/4 cups raspberries
1 1/2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 cups whipping cream
2 teaspoons vanilla
1/2 cup powdered sugar

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350°; position rack in center of oven. Butter and flour a 9-in.-wide cake pan (at least 2 in. deep) with removable rim; set aside.

2. Make cake: select a large stainless steel bowl (at least 10-cup capacity) that can nest comfortably in a large pot. Fill pot halfway with water and bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to a gentle simmer. In bowl, combine eggs and sugar. Set bowl over water; with a handheld mixer, beat eggs and sugar at high speed until pale and thick enough to fall from a spoon in a wide ribbon, about 10 minutes.

3. Remove bowl from heat. Shake flour through a sieve over egg mixture and fold in gently. Add melted butter and fold in gently until no streaks remain. Scrape batter into prepared pan. Bake on center rack until cake is evenly browned, just begins to pull from pan sides, and springs back when lightly touched in the center, about 40 minutes. Set pan on a cooling rack and let cool at least 10 minutes. Run a thin knife between pan and rim. Remove rim and let cake cool completely.

4. Make tres leches sauce: In a large pot (at least 6-qt. capacity) over high heat, combine goat milk, sugar, corn syrup, and cinnamon stick. Bring mixture to a boil. Stir in baking soda mixture (sauce will foam up) and reduce heat to medium. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until sauce turns a caramel color and reduces to 3/4 cup, 10 to 12 minutes.

5. Remove sauce from heat; discard cinnamon stick, and stir in condensed milk and whipping cream. Use warm (see Notes).

6. With a long, serrated knife, cut cake in half horizontally. Leave bottom half on cake pan bottom. Lift off cake top and set, cut side down, on a flat plate.

7. Put cake bottom (with pan base) on a wire rack set over a rimmed baking sheet. Poke cake bottom all over with a toothpick, being careful not to poke all the way through. Slowly spoon enough warm tres leches sauce (about 1 cup) over cake bottom to saturate well but not cause it to ooze. Let stand until cool, about 10 minutes.

8. Make filling: Reserve several raspberries to go on top of the cake, then put remaining fruit in a bowl and mix gently with granulated sugar. Set aside. In a chilled bowl, use a mixer to whip cream until it holds soft peaks and is thick enough to spread. Add vanilla and powdered sugar; mix well.

9. Scoop about 1 1/3 cups whipped cream onto cake bottom and spread level to edge. Dot with sugared raspberries, pushing them down into cream. Carefully set cake top, cut side down, onto cake bottom and neatly align. Poke top all over with a toothpick as before, then slowly spoon about 1 cup tres leches sauce evenly over cake top to saturate well. Smoothly frost top and sides of cake with remaining whipped cream; transfer to a clean serving plate. Cover cake without touching (invert a large bowl over it) and chill at least 2 hours. Cover and chill raspberries if held longer than 2 hours. Cover and chill remaining tres leches sauce.

10. Uncover cake and decorate with reserved raspberries. Serve with remaining tres leches sauce.

Makes 10 to 12 servings

Chef: Thomas Schnetz

Everybody needs a little time away

Wow. Ten days since my last post. Sometimes you just need a break, you know? Especially when you think about food for a living. My friend Julia calls it "being fooded out."

My other excuse is that we had my sister's family here for ten days. We did all sorts of fun things, very little of which was food-related, thanks to my niece and nephew. Unless you count the cotton candy at Disneyland.

But last night I made a really nice pan-roasted monkfish on mushroom ragout. Here's the recipe:

I minced 4 cloves of garlic and 4 shallots, finely chopped 1 yellow onion, and diced 3 portabella mushroom caps and about 5 large chanterelles. Then I rendered 3 diced strips of thick-cut bacon (I like Niman Ranch) over medium heat until browned. Removed the meat, but left the fat, increased the heat to medium-high, and browned the garlic, shallots, onion, and mushrooms. Added a bay leaf and a handful of halved pear tomatoes. Seasoned with salt and pepper, Portuguese allspice and a tiny bit of regular allspice. When everything was nicely caramelized, I deglazed with a little chicken stock.

In a separate pan over medium-high heat, I seared the salt-and-pepper-sprinkled monkfish in a little olive oil, then roasted it at 425 for 7 minutes. Took it out, realized that wasn't enough time, and put it back in for another 5. Took it out, realized it still wasn't enough time, and put it back for 4 more.

The monkfish looked a little pale on the ragout, so I sprinkled it with some dried tomato powder that my mom had given me. Pretty! Unfortunately, I didn't manage to pull out the camera before we dove in. But this is a photo of the lovely Masút Pinot Noir I drank with it. This is a small biodynamic winery in Mendocino County founded by Robert Fetzer (yes, that Fetzer). If you can get your hands on a bottle (about $32), you'll be happy indeed. As my boss said when she tried it today, "This is true Pinot Noir."

The olive project: Week 2

The olives are now in their fourth day of the more concentrated brine. All in all, they've been in the mix for 12 days. Just 78 more to go!

Sorry for the poor quality of the photo. Didn't have time to use the camera, so I used my cell phone. But you can se that some are still purple, some are green, and some are turning a nice shade of brown.

Olive me, olive you

I bought some really beautiful olives this weekend at the farmer's market (at $10 for 2 pounds. Suckaa!). But better to get soaked by the hippie farmers than by Monsanto.

Anyone have advice to share about brining them? I'm planning to go the standard salt/garlic/chilies/peppercorn/bay leaf route, but I'd love some input. Anyone ever done an oil cure?

Apple crisp

My mom called from Connecticut a few weeks ago to say she was making her first apple crisp of the season. Wouldn't it be great if we could teleport? Best of both worlds: California and Mom's apple crisp. Of course, the technology would be appropriated by Silicon Valley and I wouldn't be able to afford it. And then you'd have the porous border problem. Maybe jetpacks.

This is an apple crisp worth traveling for. No Cali-hippie granola topping, more like a sweet biscuity crust drizzled with butter and cinnamon. It was my grandma Mary's recipe, clipped from a 1940s women's magazine. I found the original copy in a ziplock bag a couple of months before she died. The paper feels like worn silk and barely holds together, but I like keeping it in the bag with the others, the ones that became family standards, and the ones she set aside for some future day. "Your grandma Rose was the good cook," she'd say. But this is the recipe I make most.

With an old-fashioned apple peeper/corer, you can get it prepped in about 20 minutes. Bake it while you eat dinner, then serve hot with poured cream or vanilla ice cream.

Mary Q's Apple Crisp

1 dozen apples, peeled and sliced 1/3 inch thick (I like to mix Braeburns and Granny Smiths)
2 cups all-purpose flour
1-1/4 cups sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
10 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350°. Melt butter over low heat; set aside.

Mix dry ingredients in bowl. Drop in eggs and mix with a fork until crumbly (the mixture will look like streusel).

Spread sliced apples in a 9x13-inch baking dish. Distribute topping over apples, then drizzle with butter. Sprinkle cinnamon to cover. Bake 45 minutes, or until topping is golden brown and filling bubbles.

Good frickin' chicken

Haven't put many recipes up lately, but this month's issue of Sunset has a tasty Sunday dinner menu that I developed back in May. And, if I do say so myself, it's good stuff: jicama sticks and green beans served with an avocado-mint dip; a whole chicken rubbed with garlic and spices and cooked over indirect heat on the grill; little foil packs filled with sweet potatoes, red onion, spices, and lime, also grilled; and an apple crisp that you (surprise) also "bake" over indirect heat on the (you guessed it) grill.

The full set of recipes is here, but you may need a password to get in. Just in case, here's the chicken recipe for your enjoyment:


Spice-Rubbed Smoke-Roasted Chicken

1 cup (about 3 oz.) hickory, mesquite, or applewood chips (optional)
12 cloves garlic, peeled
1 tablespoon chili powder
1/3 cup chopped fresh thyme leaves
1/3 cup chopped fresh rosemary leaves
1/4 cup olive oil
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon fresh-ground pepper
1 chicken (4 to 5 lb.)

1. In a medium bowl, cover wood chips (if using) in water. Let soak at least 30 minutes; drain just before using.

2. In a food processor, combine garlic, chili powder, thyme, rosemary, olive oil, salt, and pepper. Process until mixture forms a paste.

3. Rinse chicken inside and out; pat dry. Press down on the breastbone of the chicken to flatten the bird slightly; rub the paste evenly over all the skin.

4. Prepare your grill for indirect heat. The temperature inside your grill should be between 350° and 400° (insert a long-stemmed thermometer through lid vent to measure temperature). If using a gas grill, place all the chips in the metal smoking box or in a foil pan directly on the heat in a corner. If using a charcoal grill, scatter half of the wood chips over the coals.

5. Place the chicken over the drip pan, breast side down. Cover barbecue with lid. If using a charcoal grill, adjust vents so that they're open halfway. Cook 40 minutes, then turn the chicken over (if using charcoal, scatter another 20 briquets over coals, along with the remaining wood chips). Cover barbecue again.

6. Continue cooking chicken until a thermometer inserted through the thickest part of breast to bone reaches 170°, about 40 minutes longer. Transfer to a board or platter and let rest 10 minutes under a tent of foil. Carve to serve.

Serves 6.

A civilized breakfast

I've found a grown-up alternative to the toasted-Wonder-bread-with-ricotta-and-grape-jelly breakfast that I loved to love as a child.

1 slice rustic walnut bread, toasted

topped with:

2 tablespoons fromage blanc
2 teaspoons honey

Fast, easy, yum.

A Cake to Bake

My husband's birthday falls one day after my father's. Not sure if that's evidence of some unresolved Electra Complex on my part, or if it just means that good men tend to be born around the longest day of the year. But in practical terms, it means I have birthdays on the brain and lots of presents to buy. And cakes to bake.

Scott is a respectably adventurous eater, but he's not a chowhound or a foodie. Instead, he's what I'd call a good sport. And that's just fine with me. He reminds me that other hobbies can be interesting, too. Like art, or drive-in movies.

And when he says he just wants a simple, old-fashioned yellow birthday cake with chocolate frosting, I say, "Where's my butter, sugar?" No, I don't say that. But I do make the cake.

This is, hands-down, the most delicious cake recipe I have yet to bake. It's from Shirley Corriher's Cookwise (only slightly modified).

If Dante had invented nine circles of heaven, this recipe would be her FastPass to the top. If I was a movie producer, I'd buy the rights and make it into a movie. On top of that, Shirley an awfully nice lady who spends a lot of time answering phone calls from stymied cooks all over the country.

Double this recipe if you want two layers.

Basic Moist Sweet Cake

Yield: 1 layer

Ingredients:

1-1/2 cups cake flour
1-1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 stick cold unsalted butter
1-1/3 cup sugar, placed in the freezer to chill
1/3 cup vegetable oil
2 large eggs at room temperature
3 large egg yolks at room temperature
1/2 cup buttermilk at room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Preparation:

Preheat oven to 350°. Line a cake pan with parchment paper, grease the bottom and sides with butter, and sprinkle with flour. Toss out the excess and set aside.

Sift together dry ingredients so that the baking powder is evenly dispersed. Chill your bowl and beaters. Beat the hard butter in the chilled bowl for three to four minutes, then gradually pour in chilled sugar. Beat for another three to four minutes until well-blended and very fluffy (a total of eight minutes).

Add oil to butter and sugar mixture, then blend. Add eggs and yolks and beat very lightly on a low speed. Too much beating after adding the eggs will produce a tough crust. Add the buttermilk and vanilla and blend lightly. Fold in sifted dry ingredients.
Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan, then bake for 35 minutes, or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean.

Home cooking

I haven't written anything about cooking here, mostly because the recipes I develop at work are the rightful property of the Time-Warner empire. Not that this blog is of any significance in the grand scheme of media consolidation, but it's a matter of principle: I don't want to get fired. So any really good ideas go straight to the magazine.

But last night I made some classics: grilled pizzas, salad (spinach, jicama, avocado, chervil, mint, and oranges), roasted corn, and fruit for dessert. Our friends Jessica, Sarah, and Eloise came over...all former Bostonians themselves. When we're feeling cranky, we gripe about California drivers. Boston drivers may be nasty and rude, but we think they're more competent. Aha, but a story in today's news seems to prove me wrong. Still, the highways here are clogged with accidents every time it rains...why? But enough about that.

Jessica, a food writer and wonderful cook, brought wild mushroom crostini. I got to work on the pizzas. I had made the dough earlier in the day, adapting Mark Bittman's recipe:

1 package rapid-rise yeast
5 cups all-purpose flour
2 to 2 1/2 cups water
3 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon sea salt

I mixed the yeast with a little warm water, then poured it over the flour in the bowl of my standing mixer. I turned the machine on and poured in enough water so that the mixture was almost loose. I like a wet dough. Then I added the oil and let the dough hook do the work for about 4 minutes. I oiled the ball of dough in the bowl and let it sit, covered, on the counter for an hour. Then, back to the mixer: I added the salt, let the hook knead everything together for a minute more, then covered the dough and let it rise slowly in the refrigerator for about 5 hours while Scott and I went out for a walk. There's something so satisfying about knowing that the dough is rising, your ducks all in a row, while you're off having fun.

I divided the dough into 3 disks, froze one, and let the other two rest, covered, on the counter for 20 minutes. Then I rolled each one out into an oval, about 1/3-inch thick, and cooked them over medium heat on our grill. It feels like a game, catching the charcoals at the right moment, watching the dough bubble up, flipping the breads and then working quickly to get the toppings on before the bottom burns. But they came out pretty well, with a couple of charred spots that Jessica and Sarah liked (photos to come).

I rubbed both of the pizzas with garlic and olive oil, then topped one with figs, prosciutto, goat cheese, arugula, and a little syrupy balsamic vinegar (actually, Jessica did this while I was grilling the other pizza). For the second, I slow-roasted some plum tomatoes with olive oil and herbs and made a classic tomato-basil-mozzarella pie. The market had some custardy buffalo mozzarella and it melted beautifully. Scott said these were his favorite pizzas yet, and I think the slow rising time did the trick.

We ate dinner in front of the TV because Jessica went to high school with Harmony, one of the contestants on "The Next Food Network Star." I can assure you that all of our armchair commentary was above-board and respectful.