American Cake - Cake #10: Chez Panisse Almond Torte

Time Period: 1963-1979

Whatever your opinion on what Alice Waters' ethos has brought to the world of food, there's no denying that she's an influential force in the recipes that flowed out of California in this time period. Her pastry chef, Lindsey Shere, was a rancher with an Italian heritage who baked the restaurant's desserts in a back cottage. I'm not sure how symbolic of America as a whole this adapted recipe of Shere's is, but I'm always happy to see an almond cake come my way. The recipe calls for almond paste, which I generally taste in those (non-fortune) cookies served at Chinese restaurants. None of the stores around me carried it, but it was easy enough to order.

Though I love my stand mixer, I'm secretly delighted every time I see a recipe that calls for the mixture to be made in a food processor, because I know I'm about to save all sorts of time and dish washing. I was able to throw the batter together one morning, and by the time some friends stopped by to play board games, it was baked and cooling. When I served it at dinner that night, it had a wonderful moistness in the center while still keeping that tasty crust on the outside. I can see why this torte was a hit back in the day, and it'll be joining modernity as well, because this one is definitely going into the recipe rotation.

Read more »

American Cake - Cake #9: Scripture Cake

Time Period: 1870-1899

Also known as "Bible Cake", this spiced fruitcake was popular in the late 1800s as a clever little way of teaching religion; bakers would look up certain Bible verses in order to identify the ingredients. For example:

"and they gave him a piece of a cake of figs and two clusters of raisins. And when he had eaten, his spirit revived, for he had not eaten bread or drunk water for three days and three nights." (1 Samuel 30:12)

"On the next day Moses went into the tent of the testimony, and behold, the staff of Aaron for the house of Levi had sprouted and put forth buds and produced blossoms, and it bore ripe almonds." (Numbers 17:8)

And indeed, this cake incorporates raisins, figs, and almonds. It was popular in community festivals and raffles, and wasn't tied down to any particular denomination of Christianity. Everyone could enjoy it.

Unfortunately, much like the Bible itself, the outside can be very beautiful, but what's in the middle can be ruinous. There are plenty of cakes in this book that have completely rehabilitated my view of what fruitcake can be, and this one looked and smelled wonderful as I was putting it together. Something was off about either my preparation or the recipe, however, and the end result was a liquidy, raw mess that I had to chuck in the trash. It was a terrible disappointment, and while some of the recipes in this book have already become standards of my baking arsenal, I'm never going to attempt this one again.

Read more »

American Cake - Cake #8: Granny Kellett's Jam Cake

Time Period: 1800-1869

Is the story of Granny Kellett, her jam cake recipe, and her Civil War beau particularly indicative of American baking culture? Maybe in a folklore kind of way, sure. I'll spare you the particulars of the Kellett family, but this cake has all the hallmarks of old-fashioned Southern matriarchs: You can practically picture kids picking the wild blackberries from fields behind the house, and a steaming kitchen with jars full of jam. If there's any cake that would fit right in at a candlelit holiday dinner, this would be the one.

This is a Kentucky cake through and through. From the blackberry jam to the chopped nuts, the pungent spices to the drizzle of caramel, this cake was made for a bluegrass summer. Though putting jam into spice cakes is not an American invention, Kentucky has taken to it more than any other place, with one particular business (the Heitzman Bakery in Louisville) shipping them out since 1891.

Curiously, though there is a full jar of jam in this recipe, we couldn't really taste it. The spices (cinnamon, nutmeg, allspce, and ginger) are the dominant flavor, with the caramel icing adding a sharp blast of sweetness. Perhaps the jam is more of a moistening agent than a flavor delivery system. It was a very tasty cake, but it's a shame not to highlight the fruit, so if I ever make this one again, I'll probably replace or spike the caramel with some added blackberries.

Read more »

American Plate - Bite #88: Crème Caramel

Up until now, I've been content to defer to Libby O'Connell's research and expertise on each of the Bites. When it comes to crème caramel, however, the book's entry focuses on the introduction of French cuisine to standard American households via Julia Child's work, and O'Connnell's touching story of crème caramel's role in her own cooking and romantic background. That puts me in a strange position, which I'll get into in a moment. There's no denying that Julia Child had spectacular timing. Nobody can accuse 1950's America of having delectable gourmet cuisine. Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking opened up a whole new world of elevated food to home cooks all over the country, and The French Chef TV show that followed brought it to an even wider audience. Households that were used to eating nothing but meat and potatoes could now experience the wonders of vichyssoise and potage.

We tend to forget that while Americans have been obsessed with nutrition since the very beginning, treating the act of cooking as an art to be refined and appreciated is relatively modern. The American palate has been getting ever more sophisticated (for food enthusiasts, anyway) since the '60s, and today, there is no shortage of culture aimed at those who appreciate the world of cuisine. Julia Child and the upswing of classical French cooking deserves a lot of credit for this. And like O'Connell, I adore Julia Child. But...

There isn't a word of the crème caramel that refers to anything but French food. No disrespect to its French origins, of course, but I can't help but think that in its current form, crème caramel has switched allegiances. I live in St. Louis, a town founded by Frenchmen and that retains a wealth of French influence in its culture and cuisine. I don't get crème caramel at the local French restaurants, though. I get it at Spanish restaurants. I get it at Mexican restaurants. I get it at Brazilian restaurants. And at all those places, it's not crème caramel at all; it's flan.

If the purpose of this Bite is to celebrate the fact that Americans have expanded access to elevated food, and in particular the deliciousness of this custard and caramel delight, I'm all for it, but we should include a hearty "Gracias" alongside the "Merci" that this book extends.

Read more »

American Plate - Bite #14: Beaver Tail

Well, this is surprising. Some of the Bites on the American Plate list are so common that it'd be an event if I didn't eat them twice a week. Some are more specialized, but I know exactly where to go to pick some up. A few present a significant challenge. And then there's beaver tail, for which I fully expected I'd have to skip and substitute something else. I even called it out with some certainty in my initial post as being impossible to track down. Turns out, I was wrong! Tiddy has a list project of his own, which involved stopping by the Soulard Farmer's Market, and lo and behold, one of the vendors there was selling full beaver carcasses, complete with tail. I jumped at the chance, and good thing I did, because the vendor told me I was snagging the last one of the season. Are beavers secretly popular?

The book's entry on beaver tail essentially breaks down into two topics: The fact that people don't really eat this anymore, and a description of the two groups that did, in fact, eat it more out of necessity than anything else. Early Native Americans, of course, had very active lifestyles, and needed the caloric bomb that the fatty beaver tail provides. The other big group was fur trappers, who had to spend the winter out tracking down materials for coats, collars, and hats. Beavers were extremely handy from a trapper's point of view; the pelt could be sold, and the tail could be eaten. Beaver populations actually dwindled in the east because of all this trapping, which helped spur western expansion. Heck, I live in St. Louis, which was founded by fur traders.

Buying beaver was the first step; figuring out what to do with it was the next challenge. The book includes a preparation for grilling the tail, but we had an entire animal on our hands. Lots of internet articles and YouTube videos were consulted. The tail was relatively simple, once the messy work of chopping it off was done. Tiddy did all the butchering work on this one (for which I definitely owe him one), and we took it over to his parents' place. They were excited to be part of the process, and his stepdad grilled the tail on a charcoal grill until the skin bubbled up and I could peel it off. I prepared a quick marinade of Cajun seasoning, butter, and black pepper, and we brushed it on the meat and re-grilled until it was done.

How did it taste? Well, the book refers to it as "gamey-tasting fat with swampy overtones," and I can't improve on that description. I'm glad I ate it, but am not in a hurry to do it again. As to the rest of the beaver, Tiddy carved off a pound or so, and incorporated it into a gumbo with andouille sausage and other Cajun seasonings. Served on rice with some corn on the cob on the side, it was pretty damed tasty! Again, probably not worth the work of carving up a rodent, but made for a decent lunch, and a fascinating experience.

Read more »

American Cake - Cake #7: Lemon and Molasses Spice Marble Cake

Time Period: 1800-1869

Marbling is not an American invention. European bakers used this technique long before we did, but by the mid-1800s, it caught on here, most likely thanks to German immigrants. Professional bakeries offered this eye-catching design, but home cooks soon discovered that if they just dyed part of their batter with molasses and spices, they could recreate the effect. Or, they could use the method of just making two separate batters and swirling them together, which is what this recipe does.

It took until the end of the 19th century for chocolate to be incorporated into the dark batters, improving the range of marble cake flavors even further. No chocolate in this one, though. Half spice cake, half lemon cake, this cake uses the neat trick of dividing up the eggs; the yolks went into the molasses cake, and the whites went into the lemon one. In order to punch up the overall lemon flavor, there's also a simple preparation of lemon glaze to pour over the top.

That doesn't mean the overall preparation is simple, though. When a recipe requires two separate cake batters and egg whites whipped into soft peaks, you can either own three stand mixers, or you can prep one batter, transfer it to a bowl, clean the mixer, prep the second batter, transfer it to a bowl, clean the mixer, and prep the egg whites. I do not own three stand mixers, so this cake took...a while. In order to ensure a good swirl, I looked up a YouTube video about how best to combine the batters without making it look muddy.

It wound up looking pretty good, though my tube pan tends to give cakes that sad streak - I'll need to research if there's any way around that. And it wound up tasting pretty good - like the Martha Washington Great Cake, it tasted better on the second day. Unlike Martha's cake, though, I'm not sure the flavor justifies the work this cake requires. If I ever MUST make another marble cake and have a half day to devote to baking it, this is a perfectly enjoyable recipe, but it's doubtful that this one is going into the dessert rotation, unless I'm really in the mood to wash every dish in the house twice over.

Read more »

American Cake - Cake #6: Strawberry Shortcake

Time Period: 1800-1869

Wild strawberries were one of the tasty items awaiting American colonists when they crossed the Atlantic. The berries got put into jelly, syrup, and sweetened drinks, but it didn't take very long for people to figure out that they could combine the berries with the already-popular shortcake recipe to get something special. Crumbly shortcake/biscuits had been served since the very beginning of America, and despite a warning in an 1835 book claiming shortcakes were unhealthy, their popularity did not wane.

Strawberry shortcakes were a luxury, but humbler recipes for it began to pop up around the Civil War. Barely a handful of years later, it was already considered an American institution, helped along by the ability to ship the berries by rail. It's easy to see why they caught on so forcefully. Strawberry shortcake is extremely tasty, and simpler to prepare than a lot of other cakes.

As my delightful assistant hulled the berries and tossed them with sugar, I pulled together the dough. From there, it was a simple matter of cut, bake, and stack, with some homemade whipped cream on top for added effect. It's a perfect little summer dessert.

Read more »