4 posts tagged “baking”
Right, so, between the book and my discovery (after about 200 million others) of Facebook, I just haven't found myself in the mood much for blogging. Nor have I had the time. But if I really wanted to blog I'd have found the time and not started playing Sonny.
Anyway, some photos to tide y'all over until I get in the blogging mood again, or the book gets wrapped up or something like that. Today's Julia's baby shower, and that meant one thing to me: Cupcakes! So since we don't know if it's a boy or girl, I went gender-specific in both directions:
I had some Necco wafers and Smarties left from a gift bag and they turned out as fun kind of flowers. Naturally when I saw Martha Stewart's Web site and came across the little birdies in the nest I thought, "Now, that would have been great, if I actually had spare time. And spare coconut shreds. And a pipette. And no life."
These'll do, pig, these'll do.
But before that, there was pie.
A whole group of us got together at Grand Central Terminal for dinner, and in the lower depths of the facility there is this food court, and in the food court is a place that makes pies and cakes. Josh and I spied the pie and mulled over whether key lime or mud was the better option and of course went with key lime.
Over dinner, as the pie sat between us at the table, Josh noted that we should eat it on the subway. "Train pie!" either he or Rose cried, and so train pie was born.
Look, if Improv Everywhere can take off their pants on the subway, we can all share a pie. It was very communal, as well as being very yummy.
But all of this was mere prelude to the evening, and why we were on the subway in the first place: We were taking the 7 train to the Q25 so that we could disembark and walk into the formerly named InSpa World -- now called Spa Castle, clearly after the many whirlpools and hot tubs available back in medieval times.
It might sound a little dodgy, but this brand-spanking-new building looks like a 5-star hotel. You walk in, fork over $35 and can stay all day (we were just going for about four hours, until midnight). You get a uniform of unfortunate pink and orange if you're a woman (gray and blue for the menfolks) in the locker room, and a wristband that resembles a watch with a number on it (and an RIFD chip to access your locker). You leave everything but your bathing suit and the uniform in your locker, including shoes, and the place is yours. Anything else you buy -- from massages to scrubs to slushies -- gets rung up on your number and you check out later and settle the bill.
We hit the pools. You have to hit the pools. On the roof of the building are these large, elongated outdoor swimming pools with spray jets and massage hoses and a little flume area that makes you feel like you're rushing down a river, there's a hot tub alongside the main pool, there's a hotter hot tub on the far end made of cedar (aka "the lobster pot"), there's a kiddie pool (no funny animals, just a lovely shallow reflecting pool), there's a sauna. There's a food area, and a place where you can buy whipped or fruity drinks and drink them while still inside the pool.You can sign up for massages but by the time we got there they were all full up so I can't report on that.
Inside the locker rooms there are mineral (allegedly) baths if you don't mind getting nekkid in front of everyone else -- these went from 102 degrees to 109 and let me tell you, those 7 degrees do make a difference; there are also two
By the end of the night prunes and raisins had nothing on us for wrinkles, and we were tired but happy as if we'd done some kind of major workout. I am absolutely, totally going back there again. Sooner rather than later.
Thanks, Rose!
Had me a slice o' cupcake tonight.
Now, that's not being overly frugal or diet-conscious. Thanks to Williams-Sonoma's Great Cupcake Pan, the entire world I knew before this weekend has been completely upended.
On the one hand, cupcakes are meant to be small. Portable. Snacky.
On the other, for cupcake freaks like myself, who carry buttons that read "Make Cupcakes Not War," this thing was too good to be missed. Because the only thing better than the shrinking of something from its normal size is the embiggening of something meant to be small into an oversize.
I saw this in WS a few weeks back and it really never left my mind; after a doctor's appointment last week, I just had to go get it. And this weekend, I did two things I'd never done before: I made a giant cupcake, and I made it from scratch (the recipe came with the pan). Here's how it all went down.
The pan itself is described on the Web site thusly: "Our pan creates a cupcake of Dr. Seuss proportions (an impressive 6" high and 7" across) that lends itself to fanciful decorations. The pan consists of top and bottom pieces that can be baked in two different flavors and frosted."
Now, as you can see by the photo on the top, this isn't quite true: The top is meant to be frosted, while the bottom kind of goes naked. (Until WS comes out with Great Cupcake Pan liners, that is.) This makes for a nice picture, but an odd ratio of frosting to cake.
Additionally, the cake pan comes as you see here. There's no lid to keep the insides from getting dusty or what have you; the only "cover" is the cardboard fitted paper that it comes with, which you actually need to keep -- it's got instructions on how to use the pan, as well as the from-scratch recipe I used, and the from-scratch buttercream frosting recipe I didn't use. (I am just not a buttercream fan.) The cardboard has that semi-removable factory glue on it which fits on the widest empty parts of the pan, and is not very reusable -- despite the need to reuse it for many things.
But on to the recipe. Your usual cake recipe: Flour, butter, eggs, sugar, vanilla, salt. Not cheap in this economy, but what the hell, I thought if you're going to do a test cake, may as well do what they tell you. I didn't have a sifter, but online told me I could whisk through the salt/sugar/flour combination with the same efficacy, and I didn't have special attachments on my beater. Still, all seemed right and the cake batter tasted fine, if a bit salty, when it was ready for pourin'.
The recipe says fill the containers up to within a half inch, and make the center a little lower than the sides. Since this stuff had the viscosity of, well, cake batter you tell me how you're supposed to do that. Nevertheless, in the oven it went, presenting problem No. 2: The swirly part of the cake ends on a pointed tip. Tips don't balance well on racks in the oven. I tried finding a good cross-joint to rest it on and let it be, but ultimately there was some tippage and the cake overgrew its space a little lopsidedly.
Also, the recipe said bake for up to 80 minutes; I did 70 and here's what it looked like (see side). A little browner and crispier on the exterior than the photo leads you to believe, but that could be attributable to the oven, so next time: 60 minutes and we'll see.
Mistake on my part: Although the recipe says to lop off the extra on the top of the swirly, it does not say you should do so on the bottom half of the cake, but I did it anyway. Reason for leaving the bottom half of the cake alone? Because the swirly top doesn't neatly fit over the bottom. Which is only obvious once you go to frost.
Taste? Dense, but excellent, not too salty at all. And by dense, I mean this is a real Glass of Milk kind of cake; you'll choke if you try to down it without any assistance.
I let it sit for two hours (more really) to cool down, and when I brought it out the next day for the frosting from its Tupperware home, it just smelled amazing. Still moist and lovely and sweet.
And thar she blows.
Presumably if the bottom of the cake hasn't been overcooked, pairing it with chocolate frosting won't make it so uniform looking, but therein lies another hazard: I don't know what kind of frosting they used in the photo, but frosting just does not adhere to the swirls in the top like it does up there. I mean, you still have a nice cupcake shape, but the beautifully smooth swirls get lost in the covering; this isn't even a very deep frosting.
So I put some sprinkles on to liven it up and added a cherry. Leading to a an aerial view of the cake which looks a little ... um ... salacious.
Right.
Needless to say, it was eminently slice-able, leading to my having a big glass of milk along with my slice o' cupcake tonight. And as someone who actually likes the burnt potato chips, the crispier edges of the cake were a bonus.
Overall, it was an easy recipe to make, and the use of the pan was certainly simple, but it's far from perfect. Maybe just a little more practice?
Oh, and wait, the Web site has one other idea:
"The pan can also be used to create an ice cream cake: in one side of the pan, bake the cake's bottom, then freeze ice cream in the other side to create the top."
Oh, my word.
Overall appearance: 9 of 10
Packaging: 4 of 10
Accuracy of instructions: 7 of 10
Milk requirement: Absolutely
Yummy factor: 8 of 10
And now, the final batch of cupcakes, for Mike's Dia de los Muertos party tonight. (The first ones are here.) Some of these were a ton of fun to make -- but by the end of about 40 I was pretty over the whole thing!
And then, the solos. These are mostly fondant-covered marshmallows.
Until at least tonight.
