Posts Tagged baking

Marmalade musings: Using it up

My latest marmalade adventures, plus a spirited debate over on the Food in Jars community Facebook page, has got me thinking about what I use marmalade for, and whether the 16 jars I have so far will be enough for the year.

So far, I favour the following.

  • Toast and marmalade. Well doh. That’s what marmalade is all about. It’s especially good if the toast is made from home-made bread. Lashings of butter, preferably salted, is a welcome addition.
  • Marmalade and peanut butter sandwiches (also on home-made bread). That’s become my go-to snack for summer biking and winter cross-country skiing because it offers carbs, protein and sugar in an easy-to-transport, not-too-sweet package. It was the main reason I almost ran out of marmalade last year.
  • Marmalade and cottage cheese. Try it. Even better than marmalade and yogurt. It works as a post-ride protein boost as well.
  • Marmalade and oatmeal. In winter, I slow-cook a large batch of steel-cut oatmeal every few days, usually adding dates or cranberries for taste, and then microwave a portion for breakfast each morning. Adding a dollop of marmalade offers sweetness with a slightly bitter kick,. I’ve also started throwing in a handful of different grains when I make the oatmeal. Flax/wheat/rye based Red River cereal was a good addition, but I recently switched to amaranth seeds, which give a slightly nutty taste, and might move on next to quinoa or teff.
  • Nigella Lawson’s chocolate marmalade cake (recipe below). I can’t remember where I first found this recipe, but it’s like a cross between a brownie and a cake, with the marmalade’s bitter taste and peel adding something very special. I’m willing to bet you can’t just eat one slice.
  • The inside of a thumbprint cookie, preferably a cookie with lots of almonds and one that uses maple syrup instead of sugar. I like this Wholefoods recipe.
  • A glaze for any other sort of cake, within reason.
  • A glaze for meat (chicken, pork. beef) or fish (salmon, especially). OK, I’ve not tried this one for ages, but how can it possibly go wrong?

I am still looking for the perfect recipe for marmalade cake. Any offers?

And any other marmalade-using ideas?

In fact writing this blog got me so excited about the chocolate cake that I raced down to the library (in the rain) to get their copy of Nigella’s “How to be a domestic goddess,” which is the book with the recipe. She calls it store-cupboard chocolate-orange cake, because she assumes most people have all the ingredients in their store cupboards.

I beg to differ. You think I keep dark chocolate at home?

Chocolate marmalade cake
(or store-cupboard chocolate-orange cake, if you prefer)

125g unsalted butter
100g dark chocolate (I used Lindt with 70 percent cocoa)
300g home-made marmalade (that’s one full 250 ml jar, plus a little bit)
130g sugar (Nigella says 150g, but I figured a little less wouldn’t hurt)
a pinch of salt
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
150g self-rising flour (or 150 g all-purpose flour and 1.5 tsp baking powder)

Melt the butter and chocolate together, as if you were making brownies. Nigella suggests a saucepan over low heat; I microwaved, cautiously, on half power. Allow to cool slightly, then stir in the marmalade, sugar and salt and then the beaten eggs. Mix in the flour and then pour into a greased 20-22cm cake tin. I used my trusted, nogrease silicon pan, which makes life easier.

Bake for 40-50 minutes in a preheated 375F oven, until a wooden skewer comes out clean.

Leave to cool in the tin for about 10 minutes before turning out onto a rack.


I had forgotten quite how yummy this is.

 

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Baking along

I’m a sucker for internet challenges, so when a friend told me about King Arthur Flour’s bakealong, I decided to give things a go, for this month anyway. They promise a recipe a month, and encourage bakers to Facebook, pin or tweet the results. I don’t use Pinterest, my Facebook account is as private as I can make it and I save Twitter for work and bikes. But I can always blog.

And besides the August recipe, for a cheese-tomato pane bianco, called for slow roasted tomatoes in the filling to a yummy sounding twisted yeast loaf. What better use for my first effort to rein in that magnificent heirloom tomato glut?

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The good news first, and it was an easy recipe, although my dough seemed to take longer to rise than the people over at King Arthur said it would, and it didn’t really double in size, either in the first rise or in the second one, after the slicing and twisting that the recipe told me to do. But the bread is far denser than I thought it ought to be, probably because I didn’t have enough bread flour in the pantry, so used a mix of bread flour, all-purpose flour and wholewheat. The dough just wasn’t light enough — I felt as though it needed far more liquid — and that made the bread heavy.

But it tastes so good that I might just have to try it again, just to see how it works when I do use the right flour.

King Arthur Flour promises something with pumpkin for next month. I’m not a great fan of pumpkin, so no promises on that one. Let’s see how it all goes.

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Blueberry cake

Sometimes there is such a thing as serendipity. A few years back, when I first played around with blueberry jam, I had such a glut of the berries that I used some of them for a rather awesome blueberry cake. It was moist, it wasn’t sweet, it oozed blueberries and it tasted really tasted good.

But then I lost the recipe, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember who gave it to me, so I couldn’t ask for a repeat.

So imagine my surprise when I noticed that I’d saved that recipe in a blog post that I never got around to posting. Baking time.

cakeBlueberry yogurt cake

1/2 cup soft butter
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup sugar
1 cup sour cream (or plain yogurt)
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp almond essence
2 cups sifted flour
1 tsp ground cardamom
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
2 cups fresh blueberries

Grease and flour a 9x13x2 baking pan (or do as I did and use a 10-inch circular pan).

Cream butter & sugar. Add eggs 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Add vanilla and almond essence and beat well. Sift dry ingredients together; add gradually to the egg mixture, alternating w/sour cream (or yogurt), ending with flour mixture. Fold in 1 c. of the blueberries. Pour 1/2 the batter into the pan and spread it out carefully. Scatter the remaining blueberries on top, and then spoon on the remaining batter, trying not to disturb your berry layer too much. Bake at 350F for 45-50 min (mine took just over an hour, but then the pan was smaller). Cool in pan 10 min, then turn onto a rack to finish cooling.

The friend who gave me the recipe suggests leaving the cake in the pan until it’s completely cool, but I managed to get mine out of the pan without major mishap.And then I struggled to wait for it to cool before cutting myself a sample.

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Tahini cookies

I know sesame works for sweets (halva, sesame bars), but tahini, which is made from crushed up sesame seeds, always ended up in hummus, or even in a simple tahini-lemon-garlic-yogurt-water sauce for drizzling over roasted vegetables. But tahini in a cookie? This is something I have to try.

The recipe (adapted as always) came from Ottolenghi’s Jerusalem cookbook, which is one of the few cookbooks that I’m actually looking at right now. Ottolenghi uses heavy cream in his mix, and cinnamon on top, but I went for Greek yogurt (because it’s what I had at home) and cocoa nibs for the topping, because I love the contrast of bitter cocoa and sweet cookie. I felt tempted to substitute almond essence for vanilla extract, and I wish I had. I can’t taste the vanilla, but think the sweet bitterness of almond would be a good thing to add. Next time. There will be a next time.

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Tahini cookies (adapted from Jerusalem)
100g sugar
150g butter
110g tahini
1/2 tsp vanilla essence
25ml Greek yogurt
270g flour
cocoa nibs for the topping

Mix butter and suger until a little bit creamy (recipe says don’t let it get aerated, so I tried not to). Add tahini, vanilla and yogurt, and then add flour and mix until it comes together to a dough. Knead gently. Pinch off little balls of dough (about 20g each) and roll to a circle, and then dip one end in the cocoa nibs (I put them on a saucer), and put onto a cookie sheet, spaced an inch or so apart. I lined my sheet a silicon mat, so it’s easy to remove the cookies when they are done. Flatten the balls gently with the base of a glass or mug.

Bake for about 15 minutes in a preheated 400C oven. They should be golden at the edges.

Cool on a wire rack, then store in an airtight container.

Enjoy

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It had to happen one day

It’s been almost two years since I started baking bread on a pretty regular basis, so I guess I should be grateful that the failures have been few and far between, especially as I’ve more or less given up on recipes. I have a basic formula (6-7 cups flour, 2 tsp yeast, a scant 3 cups water, 1 tbsp fat, quarter cup honey (or something sweet) and 1 tbsp salt), and it usually works. I tend to use about half wholewheat and half white bread flour, and often throw in something vaguely exotic (oat, buckwheat, rye) for a small portion of the mix, I chop and change the fat (olive oil, coconut oil, butter) and I add about a cup of nuts or seeds, and sometimes spices too. Ground coriander works particularly well, for some reason. Yes there were failures — a set of loaves that really never rose (cue small, wholewheat bricks), and ones that crumbled to nothing after I used too much buckwheat flour. But they are usually pretty damn awesome. One batch makes two loaves, and that lasts me about two weeks. Then I throw another set of ingredients together and start all over again.

But today my brain just didn’t quite engage properly as I put the mix together, and I absent-mindedly measured two half-tablespoons of yeast rather than the normal two (slightly skimpy) teaspoons. I spotted the mistake only as I cleared the measuring spoons away after the bread was ready to rise, and that meant trouble.

I guess I could have divided up the dough and added (lots) more flour, salt and water to each half, but I decided just to see what happens. It was a fast rise (less than two hours), an even faster time to proove the loaves in their tins (45 minutes) and a surprisingly speedy bake. The result: a rather too crumbly loaf that tastes rather too much of yeast.

Oh well. Let’s chalk it down to experience and move on.

bread

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Is quickbread bread?

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I was switching the oven on for some roasted veggies, and there wasn’t time for real bread, so I scoured the internet for a recipe that was quick, and that mostly used stuff I had in the house already.

Cue orange-glazed cranberry bread from Sally’s Baking Addiction, which she said was super moist, and which fitted most of the have-the-ingredients requirements.

Except I didn’t want glaze, I’m not a great fan of streusel and I didn’t have any oranges.

So what? I had lemons (which I didn’t use in the end), and I had the candied orange peel I made earlier this winter and then forgot about in a corner of the fridge, and I wanted to experiment with spelt as well as regular flour.

Here’s the final version, with thanks to Sally for the inspiration.

Cranberry orange loaf

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 cup wholewheat spelt flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1 cup frozen cranberries (recipe says chop; I didn’t)
  • 1/2 cup pecans
  • 1/2 cup candied peel
  • 1 large egg
  • 1/2 cup dark brown sugar
  • 1/2 cup white sugar sugar
  • 1 cup (240ml) buttermilk (no substitutions)
  • 1/3 cup (80ml) coconut oil
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Mix the dry ingredients and set aside. Then whisk the egg with the sugar and add the fat and the buttermilk. Gently stir in the flour/salt/soda mix and then the cranberries, nuts and peel.

Bake at 350F for about 50 minutes.

Let it cool down before you take it out of the tin. It’s fragile when it’s hot.

And it’s delicious — moist, orangey from the peel, and with a beautiful cranberry tang.

One to make again.

 

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Seriously seedy

One challenge of adding different things to different breads is the number of partially opened packets of Stuff that clutter up the kitchen. I bought poppyseeds for my hugely successful challah a year ago and I haven’t used them since, and even putting flax seeds into my morning oatmeal isn’t making much of a dent in the large pack I bought for $2.50 a while ago. So my latest bread experiment was designed to use some of those seeds up, plus sunflower seeds, sesame seeds and a few hemp hearts (which may, or may not, count as a seed).

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I used honey for the sweetener, olive oil for the fat, added some of the liquid that pools to the top in a pot of unflavored Greek yogurt to my warm water and kneaded it all together to get ready for the bake. Flour was a mix of stone-ground organic white, stone-ground organic wholewheat, stone ground organic spelt and rye, because it’s what I had in the pantry.

Then crisis. Counting back to when I had to leave (friend and I had opera tickets for last night), I realised that I didn’t have time for my two loaves to rise, prove and bake. I know yeast dough will rise overnight in the fridge — I’ve done it several times — but a 20-hour fridge-based rise? Short of abandoning the opera (not an option) I didn’t have much choice in the matter.

Let’s just say that the dough rose nicely overnight, but the second rise, the one in the tins, took far, far longer than I thought it would, which meant spending most of the morning waiting to see if I’d get bread, or a doughy brick. But the yeast woke up in the end and I threw the loaves in the oven for the 45-plus minutes they took to cook. If truth be told I probably overdid the cooking by a minute or five — this bread is seriously crusty. But it’s good. So good that I ate the crust (with a smearing of home-made marmalade) and went straight back downstairs to hack off another slice to eat all by itself.

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Seriously seedy mixed grain bread (measurements were a little vague. It was one of those days)

A generous 6 cups of flour (I used about 2-1/2 white, 1-1/2 wholemeal, 1 rye and one wholewheat spelt)
Almost 3 cups of warm liquid (mostly water, plus almost half a cup of yogurt whey)
2 tsp dried yeast
1/4 cup honey
1 tbsp salt
1 tbsp olive oil
1 generous cup of mixed seeds (poppy, sesame, sunflower, hemp and flax. I dry-roasted the sesame seeds first in a cast iron pan until they turned a few notches darker)

Mix the water, honey and yeast with half the flour and leave for a few minutes until it starts bubbling a little.

Add the rest of the flour and the salt and mix/knead until it’s springy. I’m guessing it was 10-15 minutes. Knead in the oil, and then the seeds.

Allow to rise (in a warm kitchen, or in my case in the fridge for a very, very long overnight).

Knock the dough down and put in greased loaf pans.

Allow to rise again.

Bake, at 425F for the first 15 minutes, and then at 375F for 30 minutes or so until the bread is sounds hollow when you take it out of the oven and tap the base. I like to put it back in the oven for another 5 minutes without the tins, just to firm up the crust a little. (Just don’t do as I did, and forget to take them out.)

Have the patience to wait for it to cool down before you cut and eat.

Of course, having started this bread to use up seeds, I bought both sesame and sunflower seeds to add to the variety, which is something else to use up. Anyone got sesame seed recipes? Things to cook with sunflower seeds?

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It wasn’t a disaster

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I suppose in a year and a bit of bread making, and a lot of playing fast-and-loose with recipes, it was inevitable that not everything is going to work out quite the way you think it should. There was the (delicious) wheatberry bread where I broke a filling cracking down on a kernel, and the bread that never rose, and ended up as tasty, solid, twice baked-bagel chips. But most of them have been pretty wonderful, bringing the challenge of how not to eat a whole loaf of bread at a single sitting.

The basic non-recipe comprises 6-7 cups of flour (usually a mix of white, brown and something vaguely exotic), 3 (ish) cups of water, a tablespoon each of salt and fat, two teaspoons of dried yeast, a quarter cup of honey (or other sweetener) and a cup or two of Other Stuff, which could be nuts, or grains, or oat flakes, plus maybe a spoonful of cumin or coriander to make things a little bit more interesting. My recent favorite used spelt flour for a third of the flour and walnuts for the extra. It was very lovely.

But today’s adventure had me wondering if I should actually start measuring things  again, and reminded me that using up “the rest of that flour” might not be a particularly smart way of following a recipe. The idea was to do a 2:2:2 ratio of stoneground whole wheat bread flour, stoneground white bread flour and spelt flour, and maybe up the flour just a little because I wanted my two loaves to be a little bit larger than they were last time. For extras I chose some leftover pumpkin seeds, a couple of spoons of lightly ground flax seeds and half a cup of  hemp hearts, which the internet tells me are a protein-rich superfood. I added about a teaspoon of cumin too, just because I like the taste.

Then I discovered a baggie of a couple of cups of red fife flour in the freezer, so I decided to use that instead of the spelt even though it was freezer cold. And I was so close to finishing the wholewheat flour, that I just kept pouring that in after my two cups were full. Total flour? Seven cups, perhaps. Maybe a bit more. I didn’t measure it, and I didn’t weigh it, and I just threw in something over 3 cups of water and hoped for the best.

Hmm.

This dough was sloppier than anything  I’ve ever worked with — it practically walked off the countertop while I was reaching over for the coconut oil. It stuck to my hands, my clothes and anything that came anywhere near it. And the extra (white) flour I added in an attempt to make it slightly less sticky was fresh from the freezer too, so it chilled the dough some more and probably slowed the kneading/rising process. After twenty nervous minutes and a lot of extra ice cold flour I had a dough that I could almost handle, so I kept going until it felt good and elastic before putting it to one side to let the yeast do its stuff.

It rose, threatening to spill over the bowl.

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I squished it down and transfered it to tins and let it rise again, and baked it for about 55 minutes, first at 425F and then down to 350F.

And to my deepest surprise, it’s a really, really nice bread, with a good crust, a healthy chew and a lovely taste. And of course, having no idea what I actually did,  there’s no way I am going to be able to make it exactly the same again.

Lessons:

  • Those cookbook writers know what they are talking about when they say it’s better for a dough to be too wet than too dry
  • A stand mixer would be really nice for a dough this wet
  • You do need to knead bread to develop the gluten, and even sloppy doughs might (might) turn into something you can use
  • Experimentation is often very scary. But it sometimes works
  • You may never be able to recreate a newly invented recipe, which is actually rather sad

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If ginger is the spice of life…*

The Brits invented ginger cake, it seems to me, so when a buddy told me about a ginger cake cook-off in The Guardian, we had no option but to test things out. We’re both rabid ginger fans, so the concept of adding large amounts of fresh, crystallized and powdered ginger to a common-or-garden cake seemed like a recipe for perfection.

It was, producing a fiery golden cake with a lingering hint of Tate and Lyle golden syrup that left me swimming in nostalgia. (To digress, I remember drizzling golden syrup over oatmeal (porridge), and watching it melt into the warmth for the ultimate winter breakfast.) I didn’t like ginger back then, though. I’m so glad tastes change.

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The Guardian’s “Perfect Ginger Cake”

100g butter
100g dark muscovado sugar (we used the darkest brown sugar we could find)
175g self-raising flour (That’s another Brit-thingy. You can buy it in Canukistan, or you can mix your own.)
4 tsp ground ginger (don’t skimp on this)
175g golden syrup
1 tbsp ginger wine (this is something else I remember seeing in my Brit days. I suspect you could substitute rum, or even orange juice)
2 eggs
Walnut-sized piece of fresh ginger, peeled and finely grated (Our walnuts were more the size of ping-pong balls. We chopped them finely in the food processor.)
150g candied ginger, finely chopped (we chopped to chunks, for extra oomph)

  • Cream the butter and sugar with a pinch of salt until fluffy.
  • Add the golden syrup and ginger wine, and then the eggs, one at a time. 
  • Sift together the flour and ground ginger, and then add them to the cake. 
  • Stir in the fresh and candied ginger and spoon into a greased 9 inch (23 cm) loaf tin.
  • Bake at 160C/325F for about 50–60 minutes until a skewer inserted into the center comes out clean. (Ours took something over an hour, but the skewer went from soggy to clean very quickly indeed.)

The recipe recommends a glaze of glazing powdered sugar and another 2 tbsp of ginger wine, and then more crystallized ginger. Neither of us are great glaze fans, so we gave that one a miss.

From there we moved on to my third (and definitely final) experiment with the November Cook the Books challenge from online friends over in Seattle. My first experiment here was underwhelming at best (the olive oil cake was too sweet, and still gelatinous in the center). But the ginger molasses cookies seemed worth a try.

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We increased the ginger a little, with heaping teaspoons of chopped, fresh ginger rather than regular ones, and we added a half teaspoon of dried ginger.

The results? They are vaguely chewy, which is good, and decently molassessy, which is also good. But where’s the ginger?

Blogger Wannacomewithme posted the recipe, so I don’t need to bother. But then I might not bother with the recipe again either. If you do, may I recommend adding large quantities of ground ginger, and probably a cup or so of chopped-up crystallized ginger too.

Sorry, Cook the Books challenge. I’ll give this book a miss.

But the ginger cake? Twelve out of 10 at least. Maybe more.

*Apologies to William Shakespeare for the misquote

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Sugar, sugar, sugar

IMG_0599I spent a few months earlier this year playing along with the Cook the Books lassies over on the West Coast, grumbling as they wheeled out a vegetable cookbook before so much as a stalk of rhubarb had made it to the Toronto markets. Each month they throw out a recipe book, which you beg, steal, buy or borrow, and then you cook and blog about something that takes your fancy.

But while I had fun with a French recipe book at the start of the year, and made awesome cinnamon buns from the Mile End Cook Book, I abandoned ship mid year when the challenge moved to ice cream, which would have involved investing in an ice cream maker. Now it’s November, and it’s a bakery book, The Dahlia Bakery Cookbook. I’m in.

Sadly, this is not my book. The instructions are dogmatic and repetitive, and the recipes irritatingly badly converted, throwing out 99g measurements when any sane person would round things up to 100g. Their signature recipe is for coconut cream pie, which is not my type of cake, so I opted for the intriguing sounding Rustic Olive Oil Cake instead.

Serious, serious, epic fail. Even after baking this one for almost 50 percent longer than the recipe said I should, and then chucking it back in the oven (it stuck to the pan the second time), this reminds me of a sweet Asian pudding rather than a cake. The edges are nicely crumbly, but the only thing I can taste is sweet, and the center of the cake has the texture of boiled glue. What a waste of perfectly good olive oil, freshly squeezed orange juice, eggs and Grand Marnier. Their suggestion is to serve this with honey syrup (another 127 grams of sugar and 196 grams of honey), and sweetened whipped cream. Spare me, please.

IMG_0601I admit to somewhat more success with the banana bread, which is satisfyingly moist, perhaps thanks to the sour cream addition, with a nice banana taste. But it’s also dense and very sweet, and I am forced to conclude that I just don’t like chocolate in my banana bread. I might make it again, if I can be bothered to photocopy the recipe before I throw the book back at the library, but I will double the walnuts, cut the sugar drastically and abandon the chocolate chunks.

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Edit: The olive oil cake mellowed slightly over time (or I mellowed slightly), and I now admit it was quite a pleasant taste. But it was still sweet, the center was still uncooked, and a honey syrup would only had added to the problems. But I admit my initial comments were perhaps a little harsh.

The good thing about the weekend baking?

I made two more wing-it loaves of bread, adding a teaspoon of ground coriander for flavor, walnuts for crunch and protein and oat flakes for bulk, along with two cups each of red fife flour, wholewheat flour and white bread flour, two teaspoons of yeast, some honey and olive oil and three cups of liquid.

It’s awesome.

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