On a recent episode of Top Chef: Just Desserts (yes, I watch it, and I watch Top Chef, too), the contestants were asked to make items for a bake sale. One made a milk chocolate ginger pudding. Another made strawberry shortcake. Have these folks never been to a bake sale?!
The winning recipe, for a chocolate chip walnut cookie, is happily traditional and looks delicious. But this is the cookie I made earlier in the week, pre-Top Chef, and while I know (I know) we don’t really need another recipe for chocolate chip cookies (the one on the back of the chocolate chip bag really works just fine) I had to give this one a try, and I have to say, it’s particularly good. So the next time your kids are clamoring for chocolate chip cookies, get out more butter than usual, and then delight your kids by letting them dig out the dough with an ice cream scoop. You won’t be disappointed.
It’s been a heady time for the youngest member of our family. In the months since he turned five, late last spring, he has learned to swim, learned to ride a bike without training wheels, graduated from preschool, started kindergarten, joined a soccer team — and scored two goals in his first game. (Not that anyone’s keeping score.) He has also done something that, as he has said, proudly and repeatedly, “the forty-three year old in the family [that would be me] has never done:” invented a cake recipe.
. But Eli was two when that happened; he has no recollection of it. Apparently, for some kids, hanging out with their mom making weekly batches of cookies and muffins translates into the desire to abandon the cookbook and strike out independently. It makes sense, even though it didn’t happen to me; I helped my mom bake bread every week when I was small, and was sous chef to thousands of batches of cookies before I mostly took over family cookie production when I was eleven or twelve. But although I may combine three or four recipes, although I am casual with my measurements and I tinker, it has never once even occurred to me to just get out the flour and bake without a map. I always start with a recipe.
When asked what had inspired him, Eli said simply, “I was in the mood for cake.” I didn’t coach him on ingredients or method at all, I just wrote out exactly what he dictated (though some of the numbers, and the method, he wrote out himself):
When we had it all written out, it was time to get out the ingredients and start baking; I’ve been through this before, after all, when Ben invented a bread recipe (one that looked likelier to turn out well than that cake), and knew there was no question of trying it out. Besides, it seemed like it might taste pretty good.
We did endure one conflict, over the sugar. Eli, quite reasonably, listed it with the “dry stuff” and wanted to mix it in with the flour, baking soda and salt. I reminded him that usually the butter and the sugar are creamed together. He nodded and agreed — yes, he remembered that — and insisted on doing it his way. I really wanted his cake to turn out well, and so I pushed back. He stuck to his guns. And I, despite the little voice in my head telling me to just let the boy make his cake already (because when have I ever invented a cake? Right. Never.) started to insist a little more strongly. Eli started to cry. And then, thank goodness, I shut up and hugged him and let him make his cake the way he wanted: “Pour wet stuff in. Mix 10 sec. Pour dry stuff in. Mix 10 sec.” At the end of which process it looked like this:
You might want to mix your batter a little longer — I won’t tell — but maybe not. Because despite how lumpy and weird our batter looked, the finished cake looked like this:
We’ve made it twice now to prove it’s no fluke, and I have to say, the cake rocks — it’s moist and a little chewy from the honey, and it’s not too sweet nor too salty (amazing how the sugar and salt kind of cancel each other out). We bake it in a standard glass lasagna pan, and the only deviation we’ve made from the recipe is to bake it for 24 minutes rather than the prescribed 12, but we do set the oven to 360. I recommend you do, too.
This time of year, with school in full swing and the afterschool events (in this house, piano lessons and soccer practices) getting going, I’m thinking more about goodsnacks than usual. The boys need something when I pick them up from school, and often eat another small snack after we get home, before dinner.
And so I keep pulling out my favorite mixing bowl, an inheritance from my late mother-in-law. It’s nothing fancy, but there’s something particularly appealing about its low, sloping sides, the solidity of the white ceramic, that sweet scallop detail around the edges. I keep reaching it down from the cupboard and and filling it with muffinbatters and wonderballs. This week, when a friend brought me homemade applesauce from her tree, I looked for a new way to bake the applesauce into a good after school snack, and found it in Veganomicon, the cookbook by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero, the fabulous women behind Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World and the new Vegan Cookies Invade Your Cookie Jar!. Try them; you don’t need to be vegan to like them.
3/4 milk (soy, rice, almond and cow’s milk work equally well)
1 t apple cider vinegar
1 c unsweetened applesauce
3 T vegetable oil or (2 T oil plus 3 T ground flaxseed meal)
1/2 brown sugar
1 1/2 c all purpose or whole wheat pastry flour
3/4 c oat bran
2 t baking powder
1/2 baking soda
1 t cinnamon
1/2 t salt
1/2 c raisins, dried cranberries, or chopped dried apple pieces (optional)
Preheat the oven to 350 and line a 12-cup muffin pan with muffin papers.
In your favorite bowl, whisk together the milk and vinegar; let it sit a minute to curdle. Add the applesauce, oil and brown sugar and whisk well to combine.
In a separate bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients, then fold into the applesauce mixture. Stir just until combined. Fold in the dried fruit, if using. Scoop batter into muffin cups and bake 25-30 minutes, until a tester comes out clean. Let cool in the pan for 10 minutes and then transfer to a wire rack to finish cooling.
We have a great debate going in our house: which goes in a root beer float first, the ice cream or the soda?
This has been an ongoing experiment all summer long, since we discovered Trader Joe’s has a good bottled root beer (& a caffeine free cola that’s pretty terrific, too.) We don’t drink bottled soda as rule around here (although we do indulge in homemadekidtinis), but I’ve been making an exception lately and I keep a few bottles of this soda on hand for fun and nostalgia. It’s great for a weekend cocktail and floats make for an easy, fun dessert in the hot weather. Especially for guests and grandparents. Lately, about once a week Ella will mix up a cherry coke before dinner or we’ll have root beer floats after dinner.
In our effort to settle the ice cream/soda debate, we stumbled upon Bobby Flay’s adult version, which includes bourbon and is pretty much the perfect end to a barbeque if you’re a grown-up.
To wit, our method is this, and involves floating the ice cream on the soda. But you put the ice cream in first and get a slightly creamier drink.
Fill a large frosty mug with root beer (and a little crushed ice if you like. It’s nice if it’s colder, but it also gets in the way). Float 1 scoop vanilla ice cream on the soda. If you’re an adult, add a up to a shot of bourbon over the ice cream. Top the ice cream with fresh whipped cream.
Even though it has been cold enough all summer in San Francisco to turn on the heat, one recent day we also turned on the ice cream machine. This recipe comes from The Ultimate Ice Cream Book, by Bruce Weinstein, and it is absolutely fabulous.
1/2 cup shredded sweetened coconut
1 c sugar
3 large eggs
1 t cornstarch
1/4 t salt
1 c half-and-half
1 1/2 c unsweetened coconut milk
1 c heavy cream
2 t vanilla extract
Preheat the oven to 400. Spread the coconut on a baking sheet and toast in the hot oven for 7 minutes or until the coconut turns light brown. Set aside to cool.
In a medium mixing bowl, beat the sugar into the eggs until thickened and pale yellow. Beat in the cornstarch and salt. Set aside.
Combine the half-and-half with the coconut milk in a heavy saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Remove from the heat and slowly beat the hot liquid into the eggs and sugar. Pour the entire mixture back into the saucepan and place over low heat. Stir constantly with a whisk or wooden spoon until the custard thickens slightly. Be careful not to let the mixture boil or the eggs will scramble (yuck!) Remove from the heat and our the hot custard through a strainer into a large, clean bowl. Allow to cool slightly, then stir in the toasted coconut, cream, and vanilla.
Cover and refrigerate until cold, or overnight.
Once the custard is nice and cold, give it a good stir and then freeze in your ice cream machine according to its instructions. Put on a wool sweater and eat.
