1. Americano Cupcakes

    May 1, 2012 by Judi

    It was just a game really. Or at least, that’s how it started. Actually, it started because he was bored. 

    After all, how many times could he write names on cups, name after name after name, cup after cup after cup, without going just the tiniest bit stir-crazy? One day, he just did it. Under Sally’s name, he scribbled, “Has a pretty smile.” He slipped the cup down the line and the others picked it up, filled it, cleaned up the sides, slapped on a lid, slid it down the counter and Jas called out, “Sally!” and when Sally walked up for her coffee and took it, Sammy was paying attention.

    He watched her take the cup and glance down at the side, to make sure it was really hers, and when she spotted her name and the handwritten scrawl underneath, Sammy watched her pause in mid-step. He was supposed to be writing on cups, keep writing on the cups, but instead he stopped too. He watched as her face changed. Gone was the empty scowl of her rushed morning, if just for a moment. It slipped off her face like a mask.

     Carol Ann… has nice eyes.

    Kelly… seems sweet to me.

    Patsie… looks like she’s a good friend.

    Lindzey… has a great laugh.

    Matt

    Florence… sounds like spring

    Maddie… this is a hug.

    Liz… this is a smile.

    Stella Marie… thanks for all you do.

    Pamela… please have a good day. For me.

    Here’s how this all went down:

    - Spent way too much time on Fatties Delight (as usual)

    - Locked eyes with I Am Baker’s snaps of the Coffee Cream Cake from The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Food From My Frontier. Cake and I started dancing edgily towards one another, Liz Lemon-style. That coffee-flavored icing did a shimmy, tried to cut in, we sent it to the bar to get us drinks.

    - Sent it to my cupcake-crazy friend Katie who had, oh, such an unusual suggestion (“Let’s turn them into cupcakes!”) So unlike her.

    - (Me: And we’ll fill them!)

    - (Her: With whipped cream! They’ll be like little Americano cupcakes!)

    - (Me: And chocolate! And ganache! And coffee! Ina! Ganache! AND AND-)

    - (Her: Calm down.)

    - (Me: NO, YOU CALM DOWN.)

    - (Her: Maybe more caffeine is a bad idea.)

    These cupcakes are… not a bad idea. They are a good idea.

    The batter is thin which might frighten you at first, but they gave the tops such a wonderful, caramel-like crackle. Good crisp, tender crumb.

    And lest you hear “coffee cake” and think cinnamon-streusel breakfast food, this is closer to coffee-flavored ice cream. As in, let’s try to make this cake taste like my coffee, instead of merely resting it beside my coffee.

    All such good ideas.

    Americano Cupcakes

    Sources: I Am Baker, Ree Drummond and Ina Garten | Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 13-16 min | Makes about 24 cupcakes | Print Recipe

    Ingredients

    Cupcakes

    1 Cup of butter
    2 TBsps of instant coffee
    1 Cup of boiling water
    2 Cups of all-purpose flour
    2 Cups of sugar
    1/4 Teaspoon of salt
    1/2 Cup of buttermilk
    2 Eggs
    2 Teaspoons of baking soda
    1 TBsp of vanilla

    Filling

    1 Cup of whipping cream
    1 Teaspoon of pure vanilla extract
    1 TBsp of powdered sugar

    Ganache

    1/2 Cup of whipping cream
    8 Ounces of good semisweet chocolate chips
    2 Teaspoons of instant coffee granules

    Directions

    1. Preheat oven to 350°F.

    2. Melt the butter in a saucepan on the stove. Once the butter is melted, add in the instant coffee. Pour in boiling water and remove from heat. Whisk until fully combined and then set aside.

    3. In a large bowl, add flour, sugar, salt, and baking soda. Pour butter mixture over dry mixture and whisk together. Do not overmix.

    4. In separate bowl (or a measuring cup), mix buttermilk, eggs, and vanilla. Pour over batter and whisk until fully combined.

    5. Line cupcake pans with paper liners.

    6. Pour batter into cups about 3/4 the way up and cook for 13-16 minutes or until an inserted toothpick is removed clean.

    7. Let the cupcakes cool to room temperature.

    8. Make the whipped cream by combining whipping cream, vanilla and powdered sugar in mixer and whip until almost stiff.

    9. Using a sharp knife, cut into the top of the cupcake (you should pull out a cone-shaped piece of cake).

    10. Insert a dollop of freshly whipped cream.

    11. Slice bottom part of cone-cupcake piece so that just a cute top remains. Pop back on top of cupcake.

    12. Make the ganache by setting a heat-proof bowl over a saucepan of simmering water. Add cream, chocolate and instant coffee. Stir until smooth and warm.

    13. Spoon some ganache on top of each cupcake and serve to standing ovation.

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    Category Brunch, Desserts | Tags: | 5 Comments

  2. Honey Walnut Banana Bread

    April 27, 2012 by Judi

    Lydie sat down at the stool behind the counter and then stood right back up again. She walked over to the window and moved the tiny, steel fire truck just an inch to the right. Now it stood gleaming and appeared to stare out onto the street, as if waiting for the next call. 

    That’s it. That’s all. She took a step back away from the window, her hands raised. Done. Done. 

    Her store was ready. It was gleaming and sat waiting, like her fire truck.  The counters were polished and shining. The floor was swept. The shelves and shelves (and shelves! who knew she would need so many shelves?) were filled with her wares, bright and clashing in color and height and perfect.Her friend Colleen, who owned the bakery next door, had surprised her with a tray of thinly sliced pieces of warm banana bread for her first customers, that now sat in the corner with a pitcher of ice water, lemon slices floating at the top.

    Colleen had appeared in the teal blue doorway with the silver tray at dawn, just as the sun was making an appearance over the thatched roofs of their little commercial street and Lydie had almost cried over them, overwhelmed by the smell of the bread, feeling their warmth through the bottom of the tray, feeling the realness of this day, that it had arrived, hit her all at once like a wave. 

    Colleen hadn’t said a word. She’d wrapped her arms around Lydie and held her tight. She’d whispered, “Congratulations,” in her ear and then ducked out, smelling of bread and raisins. 

    Lydie was supposed to be opening the doors in just a few minutes and for someone who liked timing and schedules and the rigidity of knowing what happens when, she found herself with the strangest urge to delay it for just a few minutes longer. She wanted to just stand in the middle of the place and look. And look and look. Look what she had done. She wanted to look at everything, touch everything. She wanted longer to fuss and to polish. She held herself in. She turned around in a circle, once, twice. Then, she walked over to the door and slid back the lock. She turned the sign over in the window.

    Open.

    Last week, I went on a business trip for my new job.

    You know how it is “on the road.” At one point, I ate a fistful of bran flakes and declared myself Winner of Healthy Breakfast Options. This is what the continental breakfast will do to a person who has been enslaved to the Weight Watchers point system for a full year.  And who maybe does not say no to after-dinner cake like she is supposed to but whatever, it was an official Maryland dessert, did you want me to be RUDE to the state of Maryland? (Can you guess the dessert? I’ll let it slip in our Facebook group later today but let’s see if East Coasters can guess. There is no crab involved, I swear. I’m not an animal.)

    I also had the pleasure of traveling with a coworker who I am relieved to report is a DELIGHT THANK YOU GOD because I don’t think we left each other’s sight in forty-eight hours. By the end of the first day, I was conspiring on how I could secretly miniaturize her so I could keep her in my pocket always. By the end of the first day, she blurted out, “HOLY CRAP, you eat a lot of bananas.”

    I had eaten, in fact, so many bananas over those two days that when I arrived home and saw two browning bananas on my counter, I let out a sigh that shook the whole of Maine to its core. Too bad there’s no good use for browned bananas or anything, right? Right.

    Nicole, randomly, sent over this recipe a few days later. See how that works, people? That’s some serious synergy.

    Honey Walnut Banana Bread

    Source: Picture The Recipe | Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 40-45 min | Serves 8-10 | Print Recipe

    Ingredients

    3 Bananas, ripe or over-ripe (best), mashed
    1/2 Cup of butter (1 stick)
    1/2 Cup of honey
    1/2 Cup of brown sugar
    1/2 Teaspoon of vanilla
    2 Eggs, room temperature
    1/4 Teaspoon of baking soda
    1 Teaspoon of baking powder
    1/3 Teaspoon of ground cinnamon
    1/4 Teaspoon of salt
    1 and 1/4 Cups of flour
    1/2 Cup of oats
    1 Cup of chopped walnuts

    Directions

    1. Preheat your oven to 350°F.

    2. In a large mixing bowl or the bowl of a stand up mixer, add the mashed bananas, butter, honey, brown sugar, vanilla, eggs, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon and salt.

    3. Using the paddle attachment on medium speed, mix all the ingredients together, until they’re combined. (Might be a few banana lumps, don’t stress.)

    4. With a wooden spoon, add the flour and oats until just combined. Do not overmix. Don’t make me come over there.

    5. Add 3/4 cup of the chopped walnuts and fold in with wooden spoon. Again, with the overmixing- don’t do it. Resist!

    6. Pour the batter into a loaf tin and sprinkle with leftover nuts.

    7. Bake at 350°F for 40-45 minutes.

    8. Cool for a few minutes, then serve warm, preferably with a pat of butter or some cool cream cheese. A drizzle of honey would be good too.

    Note: I bet adding chocolate chunks to this bread would make you super popular. Just saying.

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    Category Breads, Breakfast, Desserts | Tags: | 3 Comments

  3. Classic French Onion Soup

    April 20, 2012 by Judi

    Anya walked until she could no longer walk and when the walking was done, she sat. She was not picky in her choice of seat and when the old woman with the great big bag stepped aside and revealed a thin gray step at the front of a bright purple door, Anya felt her body move toward it like metal to a magnet. She sat down and tucked her own bag behind her legs. She examined her black-and-white flats, the one with the solitary red dot on the right shoe. They made her smile but they were not made for walking. It was not her intention to walk so far or for so long. 

    She no longer felt the graying mist that wafted around her. She had been in Paris for six days and it had rained for six days. Sometimes, the rain came down in thick sheets. Others, pellets. Yesterday and today, it was a haze of wet that covered everything and everyone. Even the vendors at the market wore the droplets on their hats like misplaced gems, resigned expressions on their old, lined faces.

    Anya had cried for almost six days. The first time, it had been over a peach in the market. The second, it was when she saw, out of the corner of her eye, a man give his lady an elbow as she stepped off the curb. Every time after that, Anya needed no reason to cry. 

    She was tired of her own tears, almost as much as she was tired of the rain. She had started walking and did not stop until the tears did, until the ache in her soles crept louder than that of her heart, and her bag felt heavy on her shoulder and she could think only of sitting, only of stopping. 

    While she sat, relieved and aching, on the thin step, the sun made a brief appearance. It slipped out through the cover of clouds and flooded the street with light. Anya did not even notice at first. She heard the old woman beside her sigh. 

    When she looked up, the activity on the street had stopped. The woman pushing the stroller across the way. The man selling lettuces and onions the size of grapefruits. The couple emerging from the Metro. For a moment, they froze and, together, watched the sun skitter over the street and drape the small corner in a yellow glow.

    Just minutes, seconds really, and it was gone, slipped back into the clouds. The people took up their walks once more.

    Anya grabbed the edge of her skirt in her hand and made a fist. She closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, perhaps for the first time.

    Sometimes, life can take such a turn.

    One day, you’re going about your business. You sit at a big desk and you type, type, type. There’s a view of the water, a sleeping pooch by your side. You worry, you wait, you wonder when things will start. You bake things. You do crunches. This is your landscape, this it will be.

    And then you blink and the view of the water is different. And the pooch is the same but the people surrounding him have changed. And you’re not sitting by the water at all but on a plane. And there’s whispering flight attendants and the glow of your computer screen and a sleeping kid in the seat next to yours (not yours, don’t worry. Things haven’t changed that much. Although if I open my purple door tomorrow and find a basket with a baby in it, I wouldn’t be all that shocked, given how things have gone lately.) (Oh, god, please don’t leave a baby on my doorstep.) And soon you’ll leave the plane and head to a garage and a car that’s now yours, big and bulky and unfamiliar, and drive home, with still uncertain twists of the wheel, to your new house.

    And if the universe is a merciful one, there might be soup waiting when you lug your big red bag through the door. A big vat of it with a tumble of crusted bread beside it and tiny slips of pale cheese. I’m not exactly sure how such a thing is possible but hey, anything can happen right?

    Classic French Onion Soup

    Source: Tyler Florence, Food Network | Time: 1 hour, 10 minutes | Servings: 4 – 6 | Print Recipe

    Ingredients

    1/2 Cup of unsalted butter

    4 Onions, sliced

    2 Garlic cloves, chopped

    2 Bay leaves

    2 Fresh thyme sprigs

    Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

    1 Cup of red wine, about 1/2 bottle

    3 Heaping tablespoons of all-purpose flour

    2 Quarts of beef broth

    1 Baguette, sliced

    1/2 Pound of grated Gruyere

    Homemade croutons

    Directions

    1. Melt the stick of butter in a large pot over medium heat.

    2. Add the onions, garlic, bay leaves, thyme, and salt and pepper and cook until the onions are very soft and caramelized, about 25 minutes.

    3. Add the wine, bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer until the wine has evaporated and the onions are dry, about 5 minutes. Discard the bay leaves and thyme sprigs.

    4. Dust the onions with the flour and give them a stir.

    5. Turn the heat down to medium low so the flour doesn’t burn, and cook for 10 minutes to cook out the raw flour taste.

    6. Now add the beef broth, bring the soup back to a simmer, and cook for 10 minutes.

    7. Season, to taste, with salt and pepper.

    8. When you’re ready to eat, preheat the broiler. Ladle the soup into bowls, top each with grated cheese. Put the bowls into the oven to melt the cheese and then top with croutons.

    * For the croutons: Cut day old french bread into cubes. Drizzle olive oil and dried herbs of your choice onto bread. Bake for 10-15 min in a 350 degree oven.

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    Category Appetizers, Soups | Tags: | 5 Comments

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