Summer Cake

Summertime baking probably evokes a range of memories for most of you. Something along the lines of staying away from the oven in 40 degree weather (Celsius, clearly, not Fahrenheit) and opting for fresh berries and whipped cream, or icebox cakes.

I, on the other hand, would rather stick my head in the oven during the Summer just to pretend it actually gets warm in Paris. You know, just crank it up to a nice warm and fuzzy temperature, grab a mojito, and delight in the fact that I can wear a tank top and skirt without regretting it later on when I start sneezing all over the place.

As you can see, summertime baking probably isn't the same for you and me. In my case, it's all about pretending that it's warm, so we should be indulging in some super-light desserts because you just can't eat a layer cake in this heat. But deep down, I really do need to turn that oven on, just to feel a little better. Enter the benefits of imagination, which allow you to look at the ingredients at your disposal and conjure up a recipe that's perfect for fake Summer weather.

You wanted healthy, well, here's a healthy dose of it. Not so healthy that you'll be left unsatisfied, however: this is an easy cake that blends fruit, whole wheat flour, but doesn't forget that sugar makes the heart grow fonder. (I think I may have gotten that one wrong--but can't you always replace words like 'absence' with 'sugar'?) It just might be enough to make you forget about the sad weather and pretend like you're actually alright with this whole wearing-a-sweater deal.

Nectarine Buttermilk Cake

serves 8

1 1/4 c. whole-wheat flour
1/2 TB baking powder
1/4 c. sugar
pinch salt
pinch mahaleb powder (from a cherry tree, the powder itself has a bitter almond flavor)
1 egg
1 c. buttermilk
2 TB butter, melted and cooled
a few drops almond extract

1 thinly sliced nectarine
turbinado sugar (or other coarse sugar)
slivered almonds

Preheat oven to 400°F / 200°C.

In a medium bowl, mix all dry ingredients together. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat egg, buttermilk, butter and almond extract. Gently incorporate dry ingredients until combined. Pour into a medium cake pan or pie plate.

Add nectarine on top as well as sugar and slivered almonds.

Bake approximately 25 minutes until golden. Cool completely before slicing.

Page-Turners

There are cookbooks, and there are cookbooks.

The first are fun to look at, with expert photography and recipes that seem impossible to recreate. In short, they're the perfect coffee table books for food lovers.

Cookbooks, on the other hand, have meaning. Whether you've only tried out one or a hundred recipes, you've created a special relationship with all those characters on paper.

The first time you open it, curiosity abounds. The choice of the first recipe to try can be difficult if you're prone to shouting in delight  that "everything LOOKS SO GOOD" and jumping around, clapping your hands. Are you looking at me? Alright, yes, I'll plead guilty. I tend to do that when I get excited. 

Once you've settled on a first recipe, you think it over. Buy the ingredients. Try to make it as much of a success as possible. You might end up with an awful excuse for a cake, or on the other hand something pretty exceptional for a first try--either way, it leaves an imprint. 

Here's where it gets fun. Have you ever seen a cookbook that would seem like the first type, only to reveal itself as a wonderful example of a cookbook you find pleasure in actually cooking from? It gets better: a cookbook with recipes that seem difficult but end up being crowd-pleasers? 

Not even kidding. 

Enter Sweet Marx, a treasure trove of 108 desserts from famed French chef Thierry Marx. Although he's known in France as one of the chefs to popularize molecular gastronomy, his selection of desserts come across as new takes on classics more than crazy concoctions--and that's a good thing. Each one of his desserts, beautifully styled by his partner in crime Mathilde de l'Ecotais, may seem tedious because it's an alliance of a number of elements. In truth, however, everything comes together pretty quickly and flows together. You might need some special equipment--like a Siphon at times--but even if you don't have it, you can just leave some things out and it won't ruin the recipe. It'll just become a slight variation, a personalized version of the dessert.

The recipe I chose was the Cap Citron, an insanely light and refreshing dessert that brings lemon and yogurt together for a perfect Summer treat. I did make a few changes, namely serving the cake with currant sorbet instead of the suggested lemon; the profusion of red currants in the garden in Saint Dié "are to blame", but I don't think anyone was complaining.

Give this recipe a try--and I'll let you know how the other 107 recipes go. And meanwhile, for all the boys out there, here's a tip: if you find a girl who loves to bake, I can assure you that getting her a nice cookbook is the way to go. Not only will it make her squeal with delight and think you're pretty awesome, but most importantly, you've got a potential 108 desserts that she'll want to try out just for you. Doesn't that beat going to the bakery every day?

Cap Citron

adapted from Sweet Marx

serves 10

Note: I halved the recipe to make 5 individual desserts. Also, measurements are in grams--it pays to be precise in this case and using a kitchen scale is one of the keys to success.

Yogurt Cake

375g eggs

300g sugar

zest of 1 lemon

300g flour

40g baking powder

150g almond powder

250g whole-fat plain yogurt

Preheat oven to 180°C / 350°F.

Beat eggs, sugar, and lemon zest together in a mixer. Incorporate yogurt.

Sift flour, baking powder, and almond powder together. Pour over wet ingredients; mix until batter is homogeneous.

Pour into individual or one large baking frame and bake approximately 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool completely and slice cake to have a layer 0.5 cm thick (mince was a little thicker, which wasn't an issue).

Set aside.

Lemon Cream

250g eggs

150g sugar

140g fresh lemon juice

4 sheets gelatin (2g per sheet)

250g unsalted butter, softened

200g Italian meringue

Beat eggs and sugar together in a bowl.

In a heavy-bottomed saucepan, heat lemon juice, and add egg mixture. Bring to a boil and remove from heat. Add gelatin (if using sheets, soften them in cold water first).

Let cool to 40°C / 105°F in the fridge. At that point, add butter and Italian meringue with the help of a mixer. 

Pour onto yogurt cake, which should be back in the frame at this point.

Yogurt Cream

12g gelatin

600g whole-fat plain yogurt

130g heavy cream, very cold

150g Italian meringue

Heat gelatin and a few spoonfuls of yogurt together until tepid in the microwave. 

Whip heavy cream to stiff peaks. Mix remaining yogurt with the first yogurt mixture in a large bowl. Add Italian meringue and whipped cream.

Pour on top of lemon cream.

Refrigerate until serving. Remove frame and serve with sorbet and foam, if using.

Ginger & Star Anise Foam (I omitted the star anise here) - Optional

Note: You'll need a siphon for this part

80g egg whites

120g sparkling water

4g ginger

2 stars anise

60g lime juice

60g lemon juice

120g sugar

20g cane syrup

5g kappa carrageenan (gelling agent, I didn't have any and used agar-agar in its place)

Mix eggs whites and sparkling water.

Crush ginger and star anise in a mortar. Add lemon and lime juice, sugar, and cane syrup. Filter and add kappa.

Bring to a boil in a saucepan and pour over egg white/sparkling water mixture, stirring as you pour. Place in a siphon with two gas cartridges and keep at 50°C/120°F until use.

Lemon Sorbet - Optional

900g mineral water

250g sugar

150g tapioca maltodextrin

20g green tea leaves

200g lemon juice

40g glycerin

In a saucepan over medium heat, bring water, sugar, maltodextrin and green tea to a boil. Cover with plastic wrap and let infuse for 10 minutes.

Filter mixture over lemon juice and glycerin. Let sit and process in an ice cream maker.

Summer Isn't Really Over, Right?

Have you chosen your new backpack yet? Filled it up with brand new notebooks--hey, they have sparkly pink ones this year!--and pens, not to mention awesome Hello Kitty name labels for each and every one of your precious belongings?

I think I forgot my Elmer's glue. Or maybe I got the wrong one.

Can I just pretend for another few minutes that I'm getting ready for school to start again? That might justify my buying a whole new wardrobe. You know how important that first day of school is, when you see your friends after a whole two and a half months and realize nobody has really changed all that much, except maybe that girl who kissed an actual boy at camp.

Alright. The truth is I've been at work, I'm no longer twelve years old, and I haven't been doing all that much baking. Mostly eating, to tell the truth, and I did manage to squeeze in a trip to Tuscany in there. Now that it's la rentrée, it's time to get down to business--so I'm back, and here is a tiny preview of things to come. See you soon!

Cinnacookies

I have a list. It's hidden, deeply entrenched in my mind, but always reappears the second I step into the plane at Charles de Gaulle airport, headed to New York or Chicago. You guessed it: it's my "things to eat in the few days I have before I go back to France" list. Often, I'm disappointed, because something just doesn't exist anymore, or I don't have time for everything.

Somehow, though, I always manage to have a sugar cookie. Preferably from Schnucks grocery store in Urbana, Illinois, and preferably covered in multicolor sprinkles (they better be purple and pink). Sugar cookies are my weakness. As long as they're soft and vanilla-infused – yes, artificial vanilla, but still – I go crazy.

So… take a sugar cookie. Put it in your pocket, bring it to an airport in the US, and head to a Cinnabon store. Are you there yet? Buy a Cinnabon, take your sugar cookie out of your pocket, and look for a magician. Get the magician to transform your sugar cookie and Cinnabon into a Cinnacookie. A two in one, unbelievable, why-didn't-I-think-of-this concoction.

 They call it bake-in-the-dark.

Or, stay at home and bake these. Pretty much the same result, except you can eat ten of them at once without anyone looking at you with a weird stare. Even that family over there with the jumbo boxes from Popeye's, pretending like fried chicken is better for you than cinnamon rolls.

If you make these in the comfort of your own home (or someone else's home, but you get the point), you get a great bonus as well: the smell of sugar cookies and the aroma of warm cinnamon that permeates the air for hours to come.

All you might be missing now is a private jet outside your door, but trust me, you'll be so entranced by your cinnacookies that you would miss your plane anyway.

Cinnacookies

makes approximately fifteen

for the cookies:
1/3 c. granulated sugar
1/3 c. raw cane sugar
1/3 c. butter, softened
1 egg
1/2 TS vanilla extract
1/3 c. sour cream or crème fraîche
1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1/2 c. whole-wheat flour (or use only all-purpose if desired)
1 TS baking soda
1 TS baking powder
1/4 TS salt

for filling:
2 TB butter, softened
1/2 c. brown sugar
1 TB cinnamon

for the frosting:
4 oz. (approx 120g) cream cheese, softened
1/4 c. confectioner's sugar
1 TB milk

Preheat oven to 350°F / 180°C.

Cream butter and sugars until light and fluffy. Add egg, sour cream, and vanilla extract and mix until incorporated. Slowly stir in dry ingredients until you can make a ball with the cookie dough.

On a floured surface, pat dough down (or roll it out, in which case you may want to chill it a little beforehand) into a rectangle.

Spread softened butter on top and sprinkle with brown sugar and cinnamon. Roll dough up into a log and slice into 1/2-inch slices with a sharp knife.

Place on a baking mat or parchment paper and bake for 10 minutes. The cookies will not look done when you remove them from the oven--this is good!

Let cookies cool for five minutes while you prepare the frosting. Beat all ingredients together, and spoon over cookies.

Serve immediately or chill before serving, no longer than one day.