Cinnamon Nut Roll Coffee Cake

THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM

A Babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure, 

A messenger of peace and love, 

A resting place for innocence on earth, 

A link between angels and men. 

- Martin Farquhar Tupper 

The life of a Babe is not an easy one. Oh, it may look glamorous on the outside, all conviviality and dazzling bonhomie in a sisterly way. It may look all elegant ease to others, but that is all smoke and mirrors. Behind the scenes, I tell a different story. It is a tragic tale of cursed recipes, frustration, kicking, screaming and cursing like a sailor. While my fellow Bread Baking Babes, those who bake yeasty things practically for a living, seemingly with their eyes closed and one hand strapped behind their back, no doubt like my own ancestors, those great, strong women of my past; while my fellow Babes scuddle around me tossing dough with ease, adapting recipes and serving up homebaked things in kitchens redolent of the cinnamony, spicy scent of heaven, I, well, I often live quite another experience. And I live to tell about one.

 Once a Babe, always a Babe

This month, the month of August, I am the Bread Baking Babe hostess. The recipe is of my own choosing. So really, there is no excuse. But by the third try, I was beginning to feel like my recipe was simply cursed. Or the stars were not aligned or something ominous. It isn’t often that a food blogger reveals the kitchen mishaps, the baking disasters, the flops and the fiascos. But this was so huge, the blunders so enormous and so many, that I wanted to let my readers into my home, my life and share with them a little slice of what sometimes goes on in my kitchen.

Call it a series of flukes, label it simply wild misfortune or just (go ahead!) blame it on me, my impulsiveness and my impatience. But whatever you rack it up to, I decided to share the story. It is just all too incredible to be true. I am still pinching myself.

Try #1: I made the dough. A breeze! I have made no-knead sweet brioche-type dough in the past several times and this one seemed as it should. But. The following day, I should have known better than to simply dump it out onto a floured cutting board, as sticky as it was, slice it in two and begin rolling it out. I knew that it was too wet, too sticky, too difficult to handle much less to roll. I already saw where this was heading but I forged ahead. I whipped the meringue using 3 large egg whites and, again, I should have trusted my instincts based on pretty decent experience and knowledge. Although the meringue looked beautiful, I could see that it was fairly wet and loose for a jellyroll-type filling (it did not dawn on me until later that I had replaced the ground nuts which are intended to give the meringue body with chopped nuts which did nothing at all). And that there was too much of it. I was already starting to piss myself off, lose patience – I felt the steam beginning to ooze from my ears, I felt the crazy pills kicking in – but I went ahead and slathered that meringue onto the dough rectangles anyway! And tried to roll them up. They slithered and slid across the wooden cutting boards, the gooey meringue was spreading everywhere, in my hair, up and down my arms and across the counter and no matter how I fought that thing, it only got worse. No way in hell was this thing going to roll up and then behave long enough to be lifted from cutting board to pan.

So I scraped it off, all of it, straight into the trash.

Grocery store run – after much fuming and cursing and sending pathetic emails wallowing in self-pity to Ilva.

Try #2: Back to the drawing board. I upped the flour from 2 ½ cups to 3 cups in the initial mix of dough and stuck it in the fridge overnight. Still good. Following day, I kneaded the dough briefly adding more flour until it was malleable and controllable. I still have not corrected the filling and still used chopped instead of ground nuts, but I succeeded in rolling the dough around the filling and lifting it into the pan. It rose, it baked, it looked good. I took photos of it for the blog. At least I thought I did. Three, maybe four days later, the cake mostly eaten – completely by myself, I would like to add (both husband and Clem out of town and Simon is no longer eating anything sweet, thank you very much!) The last bit…. Well, I am sorry but I just could not look at it another day, another hour and sent the rest into the trash. * sigh *

I then made my Cherry Crumble Coffee Cake and was getting ready to post it on my blog when it struck me… I hadn’t seen the photos of my Bread Baking Babes Coffee Cake! What the what?! I checked my photos, I checked the camera and pffffftttttt gone into thin air. Disappeared. No photos. Not a one. Man, oh, man where are they and how am I ever going to post a recipe without photos? Especially when I am hosting the event?

Try #3: Back to the drawing board…again. And only for the sake of getting photos for the blog. But husband and son are back in town, so found comfort in the fact that there would be more people to eat it. It also crossed my mind that by the third try I have understood the ins and outs of this coffee cake. 3 cups flour to the dough, all the rest of the ingredients. As I am stirring the flour into the initial dough before its overnight rest, I am looking at it and thinking: “Hmmmm. Why is it so dough-like and not all sticky and gooey like it is supposed to be? Didn’t I add all of the ingredients?” I have a beautiful, firm yet supple dough sitting in my mixing bowl and I’m scratching my head. I skim through the list of ingredients and look around the kitchen and then it hits me. NO NO NO NO NO I have a pot with 225 grams of melted butter sitting on my stovetop, staring me in the face! “MAUDIT! MAUDIT! MAUDIT!” Is all that I can think… Cursed! This recipe is cursed! I begin wailing, cursing, throwing things around, slamming things onto the countertop as I attempt to stir, knead, whisk all that butter into the ball of dough.

This is when husband walks into the kitchen. “Look!” I scream hysterically. “Do you know how impossible it is to get all that butter into dough? I left the butter out of the recipe!” I have melted butter up to my wrists as I push my knuckles into butter-slick dough (which is sitting in an inch of melted butter), push and fold, push and fold then whack at it a bit with a wooden spoon. “Yes, I know. I heard.” He answers, actually chuckling at me! “You should change the name of your blog to Baking with the Drama Queen!” before he walks off, no help at all! Well, I keep at it for heaven knows how long until finally, finally I knead in all of that melted butter and have a unified, pretty nice, smooth dough. It actually feels…. Nice! I gave up and covered the bowl and put it in the fridge.

I briefly considered praying for the dough to turn out correctly and offer me a beautifully risen and fluffy dough, but by now I just was so fed up that I actually just wanted this entire experience to be done and finished with.

Following day, the dough is normal, risen and rolls out the dream. A sigh of relief escapes from my lips. I cut back on the egg whites and sugar to about 2/3 the original quantity, use ground nuts as I should and continue on my merry way. It fills and rolls up beautifully, I slip it in the pan, decide to treat it to a little milk wash and a pretty little dusting of slivered almonds. It rises again, just gorgeous. It bakes up giddily high and golden. I take photos of it, slice, taste and it is utterly, gorgeously perfect! I download the photos….yes, it is not an illusion, they are indeed there. And I smile. And I sigh with pleasure and relief.

And to top it all off, son and a friend of his stop by the house on their way to a party and carry the thing off.

Maybe the Baking Gods are on my side after all.

I am a Babe for a living. 

 – Gabrielle Reece 

I am hosting the Bread Baking Babe event this month with a wonderful (yes, I said it…wonderful!) Cinnamon Nut Roll Coffee Cake from the Taste of Home Bakeshop Favorites cookbook. I love Taste of Home Cookbooks; they are filled with the best of American home baking and for every level of baker. This coffee cake is light and fluffy, infused with just a delicate sweetness from the meringue filling with a hint of cinnamon and nuts. Light, moist, it is the perfect treat for breakfast, brunch or snack.

Check out if and how the other Babes managed their own Cinnamon Nut Roll Coffee Cake:

Bake My Day – Karen
Bread Baking Babe Bibliothécaire – Katie
blog from OUR kitchen – Elizabeth
Feeding my enthusiasms – Elle
girlichef – Heather
Lucullian Delights - Ilva
Living in the Kitchen with Puppies – Natashya
My Kitchen In Half Cups – Tanna
Notitie Van Lien – Lien
Paulchens Foodblog – Astrid
Provecho Peru – Gretchen

You too can bake along with us and be a Bread Baking Buddy. Simply bake this Cinnamon Nut Roll Coffee Cake, blog it – don’t forget to mention being a Bread Baking Buddy and link back to this blog post! Then send me the link (please include your name and your blog’s name) by August 26th to jamieannschler AT gmail DOT com with August Bread Baking Buddy in the subject line and I will add you to the roundup.

I want to share this wonderful yeast coffee cake with Susan of Wild Yeast for her weekly Yeastspotting!

CINNAMON NUT ROLL COFFEE CAKE
Adapted from Taste of Home Bakeshop Favorites.

* Note that the dough rests in the refrigerator over night, so start the process the day before! If you are using European regular flour, start the basic dough with 3 cups (390 g) flour; if using American all-purpose flour, begin with 2 ½ cups (325 g) then add more as needed the second day when kneading the dough before rolling. I have given the original filling recipe as well as my own adjustments and changes below it.

You will need a stand mixer or beaters to whip egg whites for the meringue filling and a 10-inch (standard) tube pan, preferably with a removable center.

For the dough:

2 packages (1/4 ounce/7 g each) active dry yeast
¼ cup (@ 65 ml) warm water (110°F to 115°F)
16 Tbs (225 g) unsalted butter, melted
½ cup (125 ml) warm 2% fat/lowfat milk (110°F to 115°F)
4 egg yolks
2 Tbs sugar
¾ tsp salt
2 ½ cups (325 g*) all-purpose flour (if using European regular flour, increase total flour to 3 cups/390 g), more if the dough is too sticky or runny.

* when I measure flour I spoon lightly into the measuring cup and then level off so 1 cup usually weigh approximately 130 g: * see note above.

For the filling: (*see note above)

3 (90 g) large egg whites
1 cup + 3 Tbs sugar, divided
2 cups ground walnuts (I usually use pecans but choose what you like)
2 Tbs 2% fat/lowfat milk
2 tsps ground cinnamon

MY OWN CHANGES AND ADAPTATIONS TO THE FILLING:

2 – 3 large egg whites for a total of 2.65 oz (75 g)
2/3 cup (135 g) sugar + 2 Tbs (30 g) sugar
4.4 oz (125 g) ground hazelnuts or almonds
1 – 2 tsps ground cinnamon
2 Tbs 2% fat/lowfat milk

A bit of milk for brushing the top and the seams of the cake and slivered blanched almonds for dusting, optional but pretty

The day before, prepare the dough:

In a large mixing bowl, dissolve the yeast in warm water; allow to activate for 10 – 15 minutes until foamy. Whisk in the tepid melted butter, warm milk, eggs yolks, sugar and salt and then stir in the flour. Beat or stir until smooth – the mixture will be sticky. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The day of baking, prepare the filling:

In a small bowl, beat the egg whites on medium speed until soft peaks form. Gradually beat in 1 cup (or 2/3 cup following my changes) sugar, about 2 tablespoons at a time, on high speed until the sugar is incorporated and dissolved, leaving a thick, glossy meringue.

In a large bowl, combine the ground nuts, cinnamon and remaining sugar then stir in the milk until the dry ingredients are all moistened; fold in the meringue.

Prepare the Coffee Cake:

Grease/butter the bottom, sides and center tube of a 10-inch tube pan.

Divide the dough in half. On a well-floured work surface, roll each portion into an 18 x 12 –inch (45 x 30 cm) rectangle with the longer side perpendicular to your body (the longer edge lying on the cutting board left to right). Spread half of the filling evenly over each rectangle within 1/2 –inch (1 cm) of the edges. Lightly brush the farthest, top edge with milk. Roll each up jellyroll style, as tightly as possible, starting with the long side closest to you and rolling up; pinch seam to seal.

Place one filled roll, seam side up, in the greased tube pan. Pinch the two open ends together. Place the second roll, seam side down on top of the first roll, again pinching and sealing the two open ends. Gently brush the top all over with a bit of milk and dust with some slivered almonds.

Cover the pan with plastic and allow to rise for 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

Once the coffee cake has risen, discard the plastic wrap and once again gently brush or dab the top surface all over with a bit of milk and add more slivered almonds where there are spaces.

Bake in the preheated oven for about 45 minutes or until puffed and golden brown. Remove from the oven and allow to cool for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, loosen the coffee cake from the sides of the pan and lift out the center tube, placing the tube with the cake onto the rack to cool completely. Once cool enough to handle, loosen the cake from the bottom of the pan and around the tube using a long, thin blade and carefully invert, lift off the tube and flip back, top side up, onto a serving platter. Or lift off of the tube onto the serving platter.

Eat as is or drizzle with glaze or dust with powdered sugar/cocoa powder.

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LEMON PECAN ALMOND QUICK BREAD

SOMETIMES YOU FEEL LIKE A NUT…. OR A SEED OR A GRAIN 

The entire population of Nantes must spend Saturdays at Ikea. We show up at 9:30 a.m. sharp as the doors open, and already we are pushing through a babbling, excited throng of young couples, pregnant women, retirees and families. They stroll through the aisles as they would an art museum, simply admiring and casually enjoying their day out, or so it seems; they gawk and point as if at the local zoo. We, on the other hand, are there for one reason, and one reason only: to buy a kitchen. And we mean business. Husband sprints ahead and I trail in his wake, jogging to keep up, weaving in and out of bins piled high with sheets and pillows, rows of beds and sofas just beckoning my shins, hoping to make contact, dangerous mountains of glassware and dishes. I skirt around screaming children who have dropped to the ground in a call for attention, bored and tired, as angry, insistent mothers grab them briskly by the arm and pull them up and along. Fathers and husbands push huge, unwieldy trolleys as wives pause to study potted plants, cutting boards and price tags. Couples discuss, debate, compromise, stopped dead in their tracks, oblivious to the rolling waves of humanity clogging the aisles, attempting to push past them, myself included. I spot my husband somewhere up ahead, his head bobbing up and down in a determined trot. What has brought this mass of mortals to leave their warm beds, their comfortable homes to come to this cold, harsh, crowded spot at this ungodly hour on a Saturday morning?

This will be the nième time, six or eight? that we have visited, perusing the demonstration kitchens, discussing, debating, deciding. We would arrive as a blitzkrieg, route mapped out, artillery at the ready to meet any challenge, face any confrontation as we barreled through the store, on the offensive and prepared for the onslaught of fellow clients and rubberneckers. We had no time or patience for sightseers; no, my husband’s credo, when it comes to Ikea, the supermarket or any other place of mass consumption where the hurly burly of society crowd together in droves, is in and out as quickly and efficiently as possible. Sadly, no schmoozing for me. So the kitchen was selected – under duress – in a minimum of time and number of visits. Then came the all-important working with the kitchen counselor. One stands in line, is given a number and is given an indication of the time one must wait for said appointment with counselor. They say one hour and in about two and a half as the store lights are dimmed, the crowd dramatically thins out and the other counselors begin bidding each other good night, we finally sit down at a computer to go over our design.

 Designs C. Dagneaux

The kitchen space in the new apartment is, to say the least, unusual, in that it doubles as the entry and foyer; one walks into the kitchen when entering the apartment. So son and husband put their very clever brains together and came up with the ideal design. Happily, husband and I agreed immediately on the color scheme and countertop. Then the flooring – the type and color – were debated and decided upon – and this took about four visits to Leroy Merlin, that incredible mecca of home improvement. Which, I will add, fills my husband with more joy than any visit to Ikea can inspire. We are rarely in a rush at Leroy Merlin unless, of course, I want to peruse the wallpaper or lighting fixtures. All deco-visiting is briskly nixed. Then paint is selected and we are pretty well on our way, at that humbling point of no return: the official purchase of a kitchen.

And this is what we did this weekend. List securely in hand, we tumbled into Ikea with the rest of Nantes and scurried directly to elbow our place in line to await the prized visit with the kitchen counselor. Of course, this would all be so much easier and less stressful if we had conferred the design, delivery and installation to a professional cuisinista, but no, architect son would have none of it. He had to design it, he had to select the elements and he had to build it. And he certainly created and executed a smashing design! He took care of the problem of kitchen/entryway with flying colors. He accompanied us repeatedly to oversee the choice of elements, arguing over our “taste” only occasionally. He sat with the counselor and went over the minutia of the design and the measurements until it was perfect. And he even found a charming muscleman with a truck to help us pick up, deliver and carry up four flights of stairs 800 kilos (1800 lbs) of boxes containing our precious kitchen!

And we went through all of that with only a few fights, a fistful of bruises, dozens of pizzas and take-away kabobs, and our marriage still intact.

And this morning, sun streaming into the chilly kitchen, we began….

I have actually found a few afternoons to bake. And as the first Monday of each and every month is the Twelve Loaves announcement, I had to slip out early, leaving the two men happily ensconced in construction. Happily, Simon ate the last four of the tiny Chocolate Cinnamon Bundts this afternoon, leaving me the freedom to create another homebaked goodie in its place. A Lemon Pecan Quick Bread with a Blueberry Swirl and topped with Almonds.

For our third Twelve Loaves challenge, Lora of Cake Duchess, Barb of Creative Culinary and I have decided that your homebaked bread – whether yeast bread, quick bread, pizza, scone or muffin or anything that can qualify as bread – must contain NUTS, SEEDS and GRAINS! That’s right, your bread must have either nuts, seeds or grains or a combination of 2 or all 3 involved in some form or another, one way or another.

I absolutely feel like a nut. My days, long and tiring, are spent renovating, building, painting and the little time I have left is usually dedicated to laundry, shopping, ironing and feeding my family. And walking my dog. Most days, my eyes are crossed from fatigue, my head is spinning, words tumble out of my mouth in a mishmash of nonsense and I can’t think straight. I have visions of hammers, paint cans and countertops dancing before my very eyes. So no yeast bread for me this month. Instead, I took a recipe from my Taste of Home Baking, a cookbook received as a Plate to Page workshop goodie bag treat from our wonderful sponsor Taste of Home, and twisted and turned it into what I have been craving, a luscious, lightly flavored Lemon Bread crunchy with chopped pecans, a swirl of wonderful Blueberry di Saronno jam from another fantastic Plate to Page sponsor, Sunchowder’s Emporia, and topped with slivered almonds. Dense, moist, lusciously lemon, the perfect little snack to get me going in the morning.

And as we wait for our new kitchen to be finished, as we watch it rise from the dust and cartons like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, I scratch and scrape together what I can, when I can and I simply hope that someone will eat it and enjoy it. But baking is in my soul, what soothes me and focuses me. And it is what I love offering my family. A little bit of myself.

So join Lora, Barb and I and make a bread from scratch for Twelve Loaves. This month’s theme is Nuts, Seeds and Grains!

All you have to do is follow the rules. It’s as easy as pie:

1. When you post your Twelve Loaves bread on your blog, make sure that you mention the Twelve Loaves challenge in your post and mention and link back to Lora, Barb and Jamie’s blogs (this post). Please make sure that your Bread is inspired by the theme NUTS, SEEDS AND GRAINS! This is obligatory if you would like your link to be included!

2. Please link your post to the linky tool at the bottom of Lora, Barb or Jamie’s blog. It must be a bread baked to the Twelve Loaves theme.

3. Feel free to promote the Twelve Loaves by proudly displaying the Twelve Loaves badge in your Twelve Loaves post as well as in your sidebar! It isn't mandatory but is a nice way to get the word out!

4. Have your Twelve Loaves bread posted on your blog and linked to ours by October 31, 2012.

Follow @TwelveLoaves on Twitter and #TwelveLoaves
Chat with your hostesses on Twitter: Jamie @lifesafeast Barb @CreativCulinary Lora @cakeduchess

LEMON PECAN BREAD with Blueberry Jam and Almonds
Adapted from Taste of Home Baking

½ cup (115 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1 cup (200 g) sugar
2 large eggs
2 cups (about 280 g) flour, spooned lightly in the cup and leveled with a knife
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
¾ cup sour cream (I used 0% fat fromage blanc)
1 tsp vanilla
1 lemon, zested and juiced
½ - 1 cup coarsely chopped pecans, as desired
2 Tbs blueberry jam (cherry would also be fabulous)
2 Tbs slivered blanched almonds

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Butter a 9 x 5-inch loaf pan generously. Line the bottom with parchment paper (this isn’t necessary but I find it makes turning out the bread much easier).

In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter with the sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs one at a time, adding the vanilla with the second egg. Finely grate the lemon zest and add the zest to the batter. Squeeze or add 2 tablespoons of the lemon juice to the batter.

Blend the flour, baking powder and salt together. Beat into the batter alternately with the sour cream, the flour in 3 additions and the sour cream in 2, beginning and ending with the dry ingredients.

Using a spatula, fold the pecans into the batter, scraping down the sides as needed, making sure the batter is well blended and smooth.

Pour/scrape the batter into the prepared pan and lightly spread to smooth. Spoon and dollop the jam or jelly in teaspoonfuls down the center of the cake batter. Gently swirl a long, thin knife blade back and forth through the jam, swirling it ever so slightly into the batter. Sprinkle the slivered almonds evenly over the top of the batter.

Bake the Lemon Pecan cake for 50 – 60 minutes or until puffed, golden brown and set in the center. A tester inserted in the center should come out clean. Remove the pan from the oven onto a cooling rack and allow to cool for 10 or 15 minutes before running a knife around the edges to loosen and turning out of the pan. Flip upright and allow to cool completely before slicing.

Nota bene: if you would like a sweeter, tangier bread, closer to a cake, simply stir ¼ cup (about 85 ml) lemon juice in a saucepan with ½ cup (100 g) granulated sugar and cook over medium-low heat until the sugar is dissolved. Spoon the lemon syrup over the cake while it is still in the loaf pan and allow to cool.

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Pecan Pie Muffins

And trust me on this.  They taste just like pecan pie.  Maybe not as ooey and gooey as pecan pie but the flavor is still there…And these are good.  Very, very, very good!

I had been looking for a simple recipe to make.  Something with minimal time invested, few ingredients and no mixer required.  I stumbled across these somehow and baked them up that day.  With only 5 ingredients how could I resist right?  Sadly they were gone that night…might have to double the next time!

Pecan Pie Muffins (Tastykitchen.com)
Ingredients:

• 1 cup packed light brown sugar
• ½ cups all-purpose flour
• 1 cup chopped pecans
• ⅔ cups melted and cooled butter
• 2 whole eggs, beaten

Directions:
Preheat oven 350 F.
Grease your muffin pan (whatever size) really, really well, or use the silicone cups. I grease my muffin cups with Crisco or lard. and it still wasn’t enough.  I had some stickage trouble.  Next time I will grease them with lard but also spray them with cooking spray.
In a medium bowl, stir together brown sugar, flour and pecans. In a separate bowl, beat the butter and eggs together until smooth. Stir into the dry ingredients just until combined. Spoon the batter into the prepared muffin cups.
Cups should be about 2/3 full. I was able to fill 8 muffin cups.
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes. Cool on wire racks when done.
Option: when you take them out of the oven, place a slice of butter on top and eat warm. You may also use walnuts instead of pecans.

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CLASSIC CHOCOLATE CHIP PECAN BLONDIES

ANOTHER TRIP

Summer journeys to Niag'ra
and to other places aggra-
vate all our cares.
We'll save our fares!

I've a cozy little flat in
what is known as old Manhattan
we'll settle down
right here in town!

And tell me what street
compares with Mott Street
in July?
Sweet pushcarts gently gli-ding by.

The great big city's a wonderous toy
just made for a girl and boy.
We'll turn Manhattan
into an isle of joy!
- Lorenz Hart & Richard Rodgers

I am packing for a trip to New York City. How exciting and special is this trip – the International Association of Culinary Professionals annual conference and I am attending! I’ll be hugging friends once again that I have had the great luck to have already met, meeting and spending time with others. This is a learning and working trip: meetings, appointments, introductions, and sessions. I feel like I’ve finally grown up and can join the real professionals, and that is extremely gratifying, thrilling and motivating. Yet, this will be my first trip back to New York since that visit with my brother Michael during his illness, since his death. My first time not staying with him. Daunting, to say the least. And truly bittersweet, like a thick, bitter-tinged salted butter caramel wrapped around the big juicy sweet apple.

I rush around the apartment, doing laundry, catching up on long-neglected e-mails, finishing articles and cleaning the kitchen. My suitcase lies empty and gaping, nagging me to pay it some heed. I normally begin packing several weeks before a trip, yet I can’t seem to concentrate on the task at hand. Too excited? Distracted? Feeling unorganized and unprepared? Maybe. Likely. So I do more laundry, type more e-mails, change the sheets on our bed once again and bake.


My family has not quite gotten used to my leaving for chunks of time, even as I leave more often. They get along just fine without me – shopping, marketing, cooking, laundry – everything runs smoothly with only men in the house! Yet they are sad when I leave them; my company is always in demand, whether it be for a stroll around town just to get a bit of fresh air or when errands are needed to be run. And now that we are house hunting and decisions need to be made on the spot, I leave a wide gap in that need and decisions risk being made without me. But I am more than happy to leave the three of them on their own for a week here and there, no matter how much I miss them. They do that man thing and bond – they go out for pizza, watch action films (think giant fire balls, gladiators or something military), take Marty outside of the city for a run in the great outdoors. Much time will be spent in the garage readjusting the Lambretta and taking it for a spin around the block, putting together Simon’s portfolio and sometimes I suspect that things may just run a bit more smoothly and comfortably without my female presence and point of view. And big mouth.

Start spreading the news,
I'm leaving today.
I want to be a part of it -
New York, New York.

These vagabond shoes
Are longing to stray
And step around the heart of it
New York, New York.

I want to wake up in a city,
That doesn't sleep,
To find I'm king of the hill,
Head of the list,
Cream of the crop
At top of the heap.
- John Kander, Fred Ebb

What will New York hold for me? Many have such high hopes for me, yet I go with rather a large blank running through my head, quite possibly the reason I find it hard to get overly excited about something so formidable and utterly exciting before I actually step into the crowded hotel lobby. Finding myself surrounded by hundreds of food writers, photographers, editors, cookbook authors and chefs is indeed daunting, yet thrilling and inspiring. As shy and uncomfortable as I am around people that I do not know – and who somehow all seem to already know each other – I rarely have problems introducing myself. I have been promised that attendees of this conference are wildly friendly and open to random self-introductions, happy to take one by the hand and show one the way. I have a list of far-away friends to meet, a schedule written down in black on white of breakfasts, lunches and dinners organized. This will be the time to share ideas, listen and discuss while being back in one of the world’s most exciting cities. Oh yeah. And as my friend Ken says, we’ll be eating our way across Manhattan!


And so I fly away across the ocean, leaving my men one more time. They’ll be perfectly fine with my short absence, yet I do not like to leave them empty handed. And so I bake. I love to leave them a sweet treat or two to see them through my time away; a coffee cake, a tin of cookies and a pan of brownies always soothes their moments empty of me! I threw together one of our favourite snacks, a pan of Classic Blondies chock full of mini chocolate chips and crunchy pecans, flavored with a hint of cinnamon and grated orange zest. Easy to make and oh so easy going down. My men are crazy about chocolate chip cookies and this is as good as if not better.


CLASSIC CHOCOLATE CHIP PECAN BLONDIES
With a kiss of cinnamon and orange – adapted from Linda Burum’s Brownies

A long-time family favourite.

1 ¼ cups (175 g) flour, lightly spooned into the measuring cup and levelled
1 ¼ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
½ - 1 tsp ground cinnamon, depending on taste
Finely grated zest of one orange, preferably untreated, optional
2/3 cup (about 11 1/3 Tbs, 160 g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
½ cup (100 g) granulated white sugar
2/3 cup (140 g) packed light or golden brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 large eggs
2 tsps milk
½ - 1 cup coarsely chopped pecans or walnuts
½ - 1 cup mini chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C) and butter a 9 x 9-inch metal cake pan.

Stir or whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, ground cinnamon and finely grated zest in a small bowl.

In a large mixing bowl using an electric mixer, beat the softened butter with the granulated sugar until blended, smooth and fluffy. Beat in the brown sugar until blended, smooth and fluffy. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, adding the vanilla with the second egg, just until blended. Beat in the milk.

Using a wooden spoon or a spatula, fold in the dry ingredients just until blended; fold in the chips and the nuts until evenly distributed.

Spread the batter evenly and smoothly in the prepared baking pan and bake for about 30 minutes until the center is just set; cover the pan loosely with a piece of aluminum foil for the last 5 minutes of baking if the Blondies are browning too quickly.


Remove the Blondies from the oven and allow to cool on a rack. Eat warm or at room temperature. And a spoonful of Salted Butter Caramel Sauce or two never hurt anyone. Mama says.

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Toasted Pecan Pancakes

Anyone who follows me on Facebook or Twitter know that we travel quite a bit due to Kyra’s BMX races.  Those who don’t follow me now know. 
A couple of weeks ago we left the house Wednesday evening after Tony finished work and drove north towards Morristown, TN.  Not much happening in Morristown, TN other than a BMX race but we still managed to have a great time.  Other than the races the fun for us is the drive there…the drive home sucks.  Trust me on that!
So what does all of this have to do with pancakes? 
On our drive north the GPS took us through our old vacation destination of SC and NC mountains.  Just as the sun was coming up we passed a sign that said Cherokee, NC. 

This is where Tony and I started trout fishing about 20 years ago…

Funny thing is we had been talking about NC and our great vacations there just a week or so ago and were asking the kids if they even remembered being there.  Sadly hardly any memories at all.  One thing they do remember is the crazy Bear Park where you buy food and feed the bears (horrible for the bears but fun for the kids).  This is where we decided to go.  Unfortunately the bears seemed to be sleeping so we looked for a spot to have breakfast.  Luckily we found a place that was open (off season!).  Thanks Peter’s Pancakes and Waffles!!!  This where we had the toasted pecan pancakes.  Absolutely delicious.  I decided to try and recreate them. 
They were a hit…Kyra had 5 before she waved the white flag!!!

Toasted Pecan Pancakes
Ingredients
2 cup all pupose flour
1 Tbs sugar
6 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 egg
2 cup milk
4 Tbs vegetable or canola oil
1 cup toasted pecans, chopped (toasted in a skillet until fragrant and the oils have begun to be released)
Directions

• Whisk all dry ingredients together in a large bowl (except pecans)
• Whisk all wet ingredients together
• Pour the wet ingredients into the dry and mix well. You may have to add additional milk to make the mixture thinner.
• Lightly oil a pre-heated griddle or pan.
• Pour using a 1/4 cup measuring cup.
• Sprinkle with pecans.
• Cook on first side until you see bubbles on the surface. Flip and cook until the other side is browned.

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CHOCOLATE CINNAMON PANNA COTTA & CHOCOLATE HAZELNUT FINANCIERS

BOYS WILL BE BOYS

I don't mind living in a man's world as long as I can be a woman in it.
- Marilyn Monroe

My dear friend Lael keeps teasing me about living in a household full of men.Woman vs Man. Me vs Godzilla. Fay Wray vs King King. Coming from her own house of one man, Giuliano, swimming against a tide of women, Lael must see my own world as one ongoing, raging battle of wits and wills, an everlasting struggle to please the hard-to-please. Or a great comedy act. One solitary, isolated girl baking and cooking for, humoring 3 men. Sugar & spice and everything nice simply going about my life and trying to understand the snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, to no avail.

In a way she is right. Every single day more proof is laid at my door that we are entirely different species. Try as I might, I am often berated for not understanding, chided for talking to the boys as if they were girls, using emotion and compromise where stalwart orders and force are the only effective means. When I am upset they need me to be happy and bright; yet my cheerfulness is a sign of flippant insouciance in times of worry. When I dress up they ask me where I am going; “Nowhere, I just feel like looking nice.” merits shrugged shoulders and rolled eyes. Dressed down, jeans, fleece and slippers, and they rebuke me for slouching around the house like a listless, uncaring slob. An evening in front of a good movie? Homemade pizza a-gogo, coffee table spread with a traditional red & white checked cloth, cork popped on a luscious, fizzy bottle of Lambrusco and, yes, you see it coming, don’t you? She wants a good chick flick or something light and humorous and they want zombies and chainsaws or giant fireballs or a dark thriller filled with spies and evil and boogey monsters. They make fun of me for carrying Kleenex in my purse and cookies in the car yet are always the first to partake. They lose, well, almost everything and, somehow or other, I never do; and no matter how often I point out that it is because I follow the old adage “A place for everything and everything in its place”, frankly they do not; ecco fatto. My kindness is seen as weakness, my gentle words of understanding simply giving up and giving in, my pithy words of wisdom as mere blather, just mom rattling on and on again.

Though we adore men individually,
we agree that as a group they’re rather stupid.
-Mary Poppins

But I malign my men too readily and much too flippantly. As the only girl in a schoolyard full of boys, it is often a frustrating prospect and once too often I have come out the loser, face down in the dirt and bicycle stolen. Yet, for all of their “maleness”, as much as they seem absolutely mystified by my “girliness” they are ready to protect me at a moment’s notice, pamper me on each and every special occasion, whether birthday, Hanukkah or even Valentine’s Day. They walk on eggshells if I am unhappy and do all within their power to soothe my hurt and cheer me up. They coddle me when I am sick and although they seem to go out of their way to make me angry, they are also quick to step in, apologize and clean up the mess when I finally explode. They used to get upset and embarrassed when I was overly friendly to strangers, chatting merrily to shopkeepers, conversing with the butcher, attempting to draw a smile from even the grouchiest of curmudgeons, yet now they either stand by patiently waiting for me to finish or they, themselves, join in the fun. Yes, I malign them; we tease each other endlessly and drive each other crazy, but it is, really, all in good fun.

No, we will never understand each other’s ways and will often cross swords. But for all of our differences we are a very tightknit group who love each other’s company and care for each other’s well being; we can spend hours and days together talking and laughing, traveling and sightseeing. A helping hand and an eager ear are always there for the asking, advice and a shoulder never very far. We also know our limits and when to leave the others in peace. The perfect little family, odd in our own special way, maybe not so perfect but perfect all the same. For all that we don’t get each other, we understand each other thoroughly.

The great question that has never been answered,
and which I have not yet been able to answer,
despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul,
is “What does a woman want?”
- Sigmund Freud

Yes, Lael urges me to write about baking for a house full of men, my daily, weary attempts to keep them sated and happy. It is, I must admit, a never-ending balancing act, a delicate tightwire performance, producing just the right amount of sweet things to their satisfaction: there are days they beg me for cake, exhorting me to dash into the kitchen tout de suite and whip up something chocolate, oozing buttercream or crunchy with pecans and why not a tin of chocolate chip cookies to boot, while I’m at it; they cry neglect when the counter is bare of plates and platters bearing homebaked goodies shrouded under layers of foil, theirs for the choosing. And there are days that any baking effort is met with a shrug and a turned back…just not interested. The cakes and cookies languish away, slowly forming a comforting blanket of fuzz. They shake their heads and scold me for overbaking, admonish me for not listening to their no’s and their stop the damn baking! They have even gone so far as to scream abuse, crying for one and all to hear that I force food down their throats!

If a man wants to truly communicate with a woman,
he must enter her world of emotions.
- Gary Smalley

Ah, woe is me, the woman of the house. Too emotional. Too friendly. Too talkative. But where baking is concerned, I can usually get it right. I’ve got my finger on the pulse and if once in a while I get it wrong, making something not one of them likes, I can usually feed their desires, put smiles on each face and soothe their man-souls.


While they eat the last of the Chocolate Chip Butter Horns and Pecan Brownie Cupcakes, while Simon puts away an entire Chocolate Layer Cake with Chocolate Buttercream Filling practically on his own, I am, once again, craving chocolate. Panna Cotta has long been on my mind and I have wanted to try on chocolate for size. I based my ingredients and quantities on a small book called Panna Cotta, one of the Hachette Collection series. I added cinnamon to the blend and switched out the sheets of gelatin with powdered and followed my own how-to directions. Although JP loves the finished product, I am not altogether happy that the dessert separated, leaving a rather grainy layer atop the creamy center layer, so I will try again. I decided to post the recipe anyway, hoping a reader can figure it out and perfect it for me.


To accompany the Panna Cotta, I made Financiers, the tiny, delicate French tea cakes, very much like a sponge, lightened with plenty of whipped egg whites and flavored with ground nuts. A friend of Clem’s had given me her own recipe ages ago and I finally pulled it out and put it to good use. I changed much of the flavoring, switching the classic ground almonds with hazelnuts, adding a splash of vanilla and a dash of ground cinnamon and finishing the whole off with a handful of finely grated semisweet chocolate, not only for the light chocolate flavor but to give the Financiers a lovely “tweedy” look. The cakes are fabulous! Perfect texture, perfect flavor: light yet chewy, delicate and moist! This is such a lovely snack, great for a tea or coffee break but perfect as an accompaniment to such desserts as Panna Cotta, Ice Cream or sorbet. This recipe will now be baked over and over again, the basis for an abundance of flavor combinations.


CHOCOLATE CINNAMON PANNA COTTA

2 ¾ cups (675 ml) whole milk, divided
.35 oz (10 g = about 2 ½ tsps) powdered gelatin
3.5 oz (100 g) semisweet chocolate (I use Lindt Doux 70%), chopped
¼ cup + 2 tsps (60 g) sugar
¼ tsp ground cinnamon

Prepare 6 individual ramekins or pretty serving glasses.

Place ¾ cup (approximately 185 ml) cold milk in a small bowl and sprinkle the powdered gelatin over the milk’s surface. Using a fork, gently give it a mix. Allow to stand for 5 minutes; this softens the gelatin.

While the gelatin is softening in the cold milk, pour the rest of the milk in a medium saucepan, add the chopped chocolate and the sugar and place over medium-low heat. Allow the chocolate to melt and the sugar to dissolve, stirring, while the milk gently heats; do not allow it to come to a boil.

Once the gelatin has soften and the chocolate milk in the pan is warm (not too hot) and the chocolate melted, add the milk with the gelatin to the saucepan. Continuing stirring or whisking while the mixture heats. Once the mixture is hot and some steam is coming off of the liquid, allow to cook over low heat, stirring, for a few (4 to 5) minutes until the gelatin is melted; if you see specks of pale gold (like drops) on the surface, this is the gelatin and these should disappear.

Remove from the heat. Allow to cool for several minutes, stirring occasionally then divide evenly among the recipients. Cover each glass or ramekin with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator until set, about 8 or 10 hours or, preferably, overnight.


CHOCOLATE HAZELNUT CINNAMON FINANCIERS
I have adapted the recipe of a friend of Clem’s.

1 cup (80 g) finely ground (powder) hazelnuts or almonds
5 Tbs (50 g) flour
¼ cup + 1 Tbs + 1 tsp (75 g) granulated white sugar
¼ cup + 1 Tbs + 1 tsp (75 g) granulated brown sugar (cassonade)
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
5 1/3 Tbs (75 g) unsalted butter + butter for molds
4 large egg whites
½ tsp vanilla
pinch salt
3 Tbs (approximately 2 oz) finely grated semisweet chocolate

Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C). Generously butter 16 traditional (approximately 3 ¾ x 1 ¾ -inch rectangular/ 9 ½ x 4 ½-cm) Financier molds – or 8 Financier molds + 12 approximately 2-inch (5 cm) round shallow molds. This is most easily done with melted and cooled unsalted butter and a pastry brush.

Finely grate the chocolate. Slowly melt the unsalted butter over low heat and remove from the heat just as the last bit of butter is melting. Swirl a few seconds until the butter is completely melted and set aside to cool briefly.

Beat the egg whites with a few grains of salt until stiff peaks hold.

In a large mixing bowl, combine and whisk together the ground hazelnuts, the flour, both sugars, the cinnamon and a pinch of salt. Fold in the stiff egg whites until just blended. Fold in the butter a little at a time – in about 5 additions, slowly pouring the melted butter down the side of the bowl rather than right into the middle of the batter. Add the vanilla extract with one addition of the butter. Fold in the finely grated chocolate.

Spoon the batter into the molds, filling each mold no more than ¾ full. Gently spread evenly in each mold if needed. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes until the Financiers are puffed and evenly golden brown. Remove from the oven, allow to cool for a few minutes and then gently pop the Financiers out of the molds and cool completely on cooling racks.

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MOM’S CHOCOLATE CHIP NUT BREAD MY WAY

INSPIRATION SWEET AND NOSTALGIC

Do not go where the path may lead,

go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

We were a family with a serious sweet tooth. Breakfast, snacks, desserts or after dinners in front of the television, there were no limits on when, what or how much we could eat. We were sensible kids and good eaters, so we had no problem eating a balanced meal, fruits, vegetables and all, and when left on our own – which we often were – invariably fixed ourselves a fairly good lunch. We were active kids, too, and living in small town Florida meant playing outside, ball, biking, running, basketball, every day all year round. Burning more than our fair share of energy. So our parents worried little about our in-between-meal eating habits and let us make all of the decisions. Either that or this was just their “live and let live” parenting style.

Our home was filled with sweets in every shape and form, from breakfast cereals to cookies, ice cream by the gallon and candy scattered here and there, bagfuls tucked away into every cabinet. We all had the baking bug: dad’s marble sheet cakes, luscious Bundts, bowls of pudding and mom’s banana cream pies filled our home with the aroma of freshly baked goods and our young tummy’s with pleasure. Much of their baked goods came from a box, but each was always made from the heart. I loved nothing more than watching my father blend, stir and pour with the patience and passion of a great pastry chef. Mom did her duty by us as well, no matter she never liked to cook, and filled in when dad wasn’t baking with pies both creamy and fruity. Home Ec and Girl Scouts had me baking alongside my sister and brother, cranberry muffins, Apple Brown Betty, even spending a fun-filled afternoon pulling taffy across the kitchen. Yes, we were all happy eaters and happy bakers as well.


Although much of what my parents baked came from a box, a can or something frozen, they did bake from scratch as well! I have waxed eloquent on my dad’s wonderful choux puffs, light, ethereal, delicate pockets. He would make them the size of saucers and fill them with pudding and they were heaven. Large simmering pots of dried fruit compote, dark prunes, golden apricots plumped up in a vanilla- and cinnamon-scented sauce riddled the air with exotic odors and I would wait impatiently for the fruit to cool. My mother’s fruit pies and cream pies, well, I have vague memories, the strongest being the time that she carefully filled a homemade pie crust with creamy liquid, lifted it off the counter as gently and slowly as possible to carry it towards the oven as we kids stood and watched and the pie, as in some silly comedy film for kids, flipped up and out of her hands and landed upside down on the floor.

I recently posted about my current dark days of writer’s block. The good friends I have gathered around me and with whom I am in daily contact, talented each and every one of them, all seem to be going through the same dip in enthusiasm, accompanied by an overall depletion of energy. Maybe it is the change of seasons, the dark, sullen, leaden days of winter that still steal across our horizons and seep into our lives that leave us listless and uninspired. But there is comfort in numbers, misery loves company and all that, so maybe it isn’t anything personal, and maybe something will turn it all around and that proverbial light bulb will be switched on. Meanwhile, some of my baking inspiration has returned and I am finding the old joy and sizzle to pull out the flour, chocolate chips and eggs and whip up something sweet for my family.

Whatever you are, be a good one.
- Abraham Lincoln

Spontaneity comes in fits and bursts, yet happily it comes all the same. Carefully turning the pages of my mother’s collection of community and Temple Sisterhood cookbooks, from her own to that of my great-aunt up in Albany, New York to several she purchased from who knows where, have my imagination churning. My finger slides up and down the timeworn, well-stained pages, perusing each recipe both savory and sweet and I am taken aback by the lack of detailed instructions. Used to modern cookbooks where each and every step is marked down in black and white, specifics enumerated step by step, these old cookbooks featuring recipes from real housewives back in the good old days are written in such a sketchy way that one realizes they assume that every home cook is well-schooled in the basics, that we automatically understand the how-tos and are able to fill in the blanks. A home cook and baker who often doubts her own capacity to ad lib, who underestimates her own knowledge and talent, I have long avoided making any recipe from these books, simply afraid that none will turn out. I come across many dishes credited to my mother, her name typed underneath the recipes; some I remember fondly, others less so – leaving me in stitches, laughing at the poor bugger who will make this or that, a dish that invariably arrived at our own table dried out and flavorless - while some stir up delicious memories of a dish I loved so well. I have made, with some alterations, her wonderful Veal Scallopini and recently made and posted the recipe for Butter Horns, although not her recipe, from the same Sisterhood cookbook. And then I stumbled upon her Nut Bread.


With each recipe I recreate, the more I want to discover. Many of the names in her own Our Favorite Recipes from the Sisterhood of Temple Beth Sholom, where I grew up, are as familiar to me as my own mother’s: Mrs. Siskind, Mrs. Rosenberg (the best cook!), glamorous Mrs. Silver, this book full of goodness, filled with the foods of my youth, brings back my childhood in one fell swoop and I am back reliving those good old days in that tightly-knit, loving community. The particular recipe that I have baked today is from my mother, though for the life of me I don’t remember her ever making this. A simple sweet quick bread, dense and moist with tangy buttermilk, full of nuts and little more, is the ideal sweet treat for my own family, the perfect snack cake for breakfast. I took her rather plain Nut Bread recipe and added vanilla and a hint of cinnamon, the finely grated zest of one orange for a deep fruity sensation and loads of mini chocolate chips, everyone’s favorite.


Some people in this house actually found this cake a bit too dense and moist, more like a pudding than a quick bread, yet I found it delightfully and satisfyingly chewy to the point of being addictive. I found the balance of nuts to chocolate and the wonderful aroma brought into the game by the splash of vanilla and the bit of zest absolutely fantastic. Possibly the buttermilk gave it that pudding-like quality, and I personally found it wonderful. Oh, if my mother had only made this more often when I was a kid! Perfect with a glass of milk, dunked into café au lait or with a mug of tea… a bread quick, satisfying and delicious.


After my Chocolate Chip Pecan Butter Horns, I would like to share this wonderful Chocolate Chip Pecan Bread with my wonderful friend Lisa of Parsley, Sage, Desserts & Line Drives for Bread Baking Day, a monthly bread event created by Zorra of 1x Umruhren Bitten. Lisa is hosting BBD #47 all about Bread & Chocolate! As you can tell, it is a favorite of mine!


CHOCOLATE CHIP PECAN BREAD scented with cinnamon and orange

2 cups (280 g) flour
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
1 cup (200 g) granulated brown sugar (you can replace this with packed brown sugar but spooned loosely into the measuring cup)
Finely grated zest of 1 orange, preferably untreated *
½ tsp ground cinnamon *
½ tsp vanilla
1 large egg
1 cup (250 ml) buttermilk
1.8 oz (50 g, about scant ½ cup) coarsely chopped pecans or walnuts
3.5 oz (100 g, about heaping ½ cup) mini chocolate chips

* These flavorings are optional but highly recommended!

Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Grease a loaf pan and dust with flour, shaking out the excess.

Place the flour, baking powder and baking soda, sugar, cinnamon and grated orange zest in a large mixing bowl. Stir or whisk to blend.

Add the egg, the vanilla and the buttermilk and whisk or stir by hand until blended and smooth.

Add the chopped nuts and chocolate chips and stir until evenly distributed and well blended.

Scrape the batter into the prepared loaf pan and bake in the preheated oven for 55 minutes to 1 hour until puffed, golden and a tester stuck into the center comes out mostly dry. Cover the cake with foil for the last 10 to 15 minutes if it seems to be browning too quickly.


Remove from the oven onto a metal cooling rack and allow to cool for 10 minutes. Run a sharp knife all around the edges and loosen the bread then turn out onto a cooling rack; allow to cool.

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