Playing With My Food

I like to play with my food. Not in a mountain-out-of-mashed-potatoes-this-means-something kind of way, but more in a... how can I make this taste different or better or healthier or (forgive me) organicier. Because my family enjoys acting like a bunch of enablers, I got a book called Culinary Artistry by Andrew Dornenburg and Karen Page. This book is laid out kind of like a culinary dictionary of flavours. You look up the word "lemon" and it will have listed all the things that compliment the lemon flavor of a dish from almond and raspberry, to honey and lime.

Which leads me to my discovery! You can make meringue with honey. You just substitute equal parts honey for sugar in your meringue recipe (or swiss meringue buttercream recipe, which is what I did) and voila! You have to be careful about what kind of honey you use though because some varieties are much stronger in flavour than others. I just used a little bottle of liquid honey that I found in my cupboard. A subtle honey taste that wasn't overly sweet.

There are lots of cool thing about being able to use honey as a sugar replacement in baked goods, the first of which being that it supports local industry (which also decreases the the output of harmful offgases and enegry produced in shipping sugars from places like Australia and Cuba). Honey is also a completely unrefined sweetener that retains moisture so that when it's used in baked goods, so the goods actually last longer than when regular sugar is used. The more you know, eh?

This all came about when I had made a lemon curd to fill my cakes with and wanted a buttercream that was a little different from the regular vanilla that didn't overpower the velvety lemon curd. So now I have a buttercream recipe that is sugar free. And I have to admit that it was pretty exciting coming up with this on my own. Playing with your food is bound to pay off sometime.

Honey Swiss meringue Buttercream
Adapted from Martha Stewart's Cooking School

1 1/2 cups sugar (OR 1 1/2 cups HONEY-- if you want a less sweet, more subtle honey flavour, use only 1 cup honey)
6 large egg whites
pinch of salt
1/4 tsp cream of tartar
1 pound unsalted butter cut into tablespoons and room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract

1. Combine suagr (or honey), egg whites and salt in a large heatproof mixing bowl and set the bowl over a pan of simmering water. Whisk until whites are warm to the touch and sugar (or honey) is dissolved, 2-3 minutes.
2. Attach your bowl to an electric mixer and beat on low speed until foamy. Add cream of tartar and beat on medium-high speed until stiff glossy peaks form and mixture is cooled completely, roughly 10 minutes.
3. Reduce speed to medium-low and add butter two tablespoons at a time beating to incorporate fully after each addition. After the butter has been incorporated, add vanilla. (If the mixture looks curdled, don't worry and just keep beating-- it will smoothe out on its own)

Project Cake Number THREE and my SECOND cake commission

It's hard for me to decide where to start this post and what exactly to do with it. This week I had two multi-tiered cakes due that both needed to be decorated to perfection while still maintaining my high standards for taste (ha! how's that for high class food jargon!). I've always struggled with timing when bake, so this week I made an exact schedule that I was to follow to the minute if I was going to finish these cakes, go to work, and maintain some semblance of sanity. A very loose semblance of sanity.

But like anything, there were many phases that I went through to complete these two cakes on time and without throwing any sharp objects.

Phase One: Excitement
It was at this (misguided) first phase where I decided it would be a good idea to go for a three teir cake and a two teir cake. Lasting approximately 3 days, I made over two dozen fondant roses and rose buds in various creamy pastel colours while watching BBC dramas on the tv. After taking out every baking book I owned, I settled for a "simple" sponge cake that I could put together and freeze no problem. I would also whip up a marscapone cream in lieu of a buttercream for the three teir cake for something different to try. I wanted this cake in particular to impress. I looked at countless photos of wedding cakes and youtube videos of making wedding cakes for inspiration and nailed the ability to effortlessly draw out a 3D picture of a teired cake with any number of designs on it. Pages and pages of designs.

Phase Two: Apprehension
The thing about looking at countless pictures of wedding cakes online, is that after a while they all begin to look exactly the same. The colours, the flowers, the general themes... it's as though all these cakes were taken out of the same book. However, with a generic cake look, comes an inherent expectation for that exact look. An expectation I was begining to believe would be very very difficult to meet. It was during this phase where I began to try scheduling myself to the minute. It was also here where I keenly chewed off each and every one of my carefully manicured fingernails. Delicious.

Phase Three: Calm
The thing about phases is that there is always one stuck in there that surprises you. In one single day I set out to (calmly) do everything on the schedule with no excuses or complaints. This meant that in that one single day I made 4 cakes, a lemon curd, lemon syrup, raspberry syrup, marscapone cream, and honey buttercream. That's right. Honey buttercream. And yes, it was as spring delicious as it sounds. Unsurprisingly, this was the least stressful part of the whole ordeal. I got to be creative and play with food the way I always have. It came naturally and I was able to dance through the kitchen listening to The Clash and Adam Ant without any worries at all. It was going to taste good (it was going to taste freaking delicious actually) and really, to me, that's all that has ever mattered.

Phase Four: Terror
The two teir cake was the project cake for the final class of my cake decorating course. As part of the criteria, I had to get as far as rolling the fondant onto the cake before the class. Everything else would added at the actual class itself. First off, let me say that fondant is the stupidest concept ever. You don't actually eat it, and putting it over a cake is most likely the reason I will die of a heart attack or stroke at 30. Forget high cholesterol--fondant is where my issues lie. That's not the terrifying part though. Oh no, that's only stressful. The Terrifying part is the part where I have to drive to the class with this cake place precariously on my lap. If it fell due to a sudden stop or turn I think I might have actually got out of the car and punched someone in the face. Little bit high strung at this point, needless to say.

Phase Five: Acute Panic
Cake number 2, the three teired cake that was commissioned, is covered in fondant, has some admittedly adorable ribbon wrapped around it, and a nicely piped string of pearls. AND IS SAGGING LIKE THE PARTS ON AN OLD PERSON!!! People ask whether it's themed as the leaning Tower of Pisa (so clever) and I am very concerned that the whole thing will topple over before I even get a chance to pipe on my carefully planned decoration. Is the cake inside alright? Has it turned into some kind of mouldy mush?? When I deliver it to my unwitting (possibly unwilling) partons, will they cut it open to find something green and hairy living inside?? All I want to do is peel back the blue fondant and check...

Phase Six: Sweet Relief (see also, pride or euphoria)
It's over. The whole ordeal has finally come to an end and I can see the cakes for what they are. They really are quite pretty. I don't think I've ever made anything that looked quite so beautiful before. It's almost a shame that they'll have to be cut into and devoured. They look like they're worth the time and effort (and maybe even the tears). I have to say that even the actual decorating part was exciting to the point where I didn't want to stop. Didn't expect that one!

When everything is all said and done, I think I learned more from making these two cakes these weeks than I could have learned reading any one of my many many books or online. I know that the next one will be easier only because there are so many things I would do just a little bit differently. I'm just going to keep my fingers crossed that the cake inside isn't actually green and hairy...

Key Lime Tartlettes

For months now I have been in search of the perfect lemon curd and a tart that could be made with it. I've conjured up recipes from magazines and books and blogs, none of them have provided me with a curd that is smooth and sweet and has a subtle tang that reminds me of sunshine. Which are the basic requirements of a good lemon curd. That, and I also have to be reminded of daisies. It's just a thing. Whatever. When I eat anything lemon-centric I want to feel the sun kissing my cheeks and maybe some cool waves lapping at my toes.

So when I saw a bag of key limes on sale at the grocery store I thought I might try mixing it up a bit. A couple of limes in with the lemon curd. Or maybe the other way around. I wasn't really paying attention--too overwhelmed by my (not as new as I would like) discovery! The pairing was so perfect I could have smacked myself in the face.

Those bitty little limes managed to tame the overpowering sour nature of the lemons. And I was able to come up with a key lime-lemon curd that kissed me right down to my toes.

Fondant Roses (or How to Make Something Frickin' Awesome With No Skill At All)

For the last month or so the blog has been pretty cake-centric. This is really odd for me for a few reasons, the first of which being that I usually get bored of making something after the second or third time. The second reason being that I don't like cake. Plain old white or chocolate cake just doesn't cut it for me. Maybe it's the generic texture that never varies from one cake to the next, or maybe it's just that I will choose a flaky pastry with fruit or custard filling any day over a fat slice of flour, sugar, eggs, and oil. And butter. Lots and lots of butter (not that there's anything wrong with butter, not at all, I just try to limit my butter intake to a mere pound a week--something that's not possible when making a cake).

That all being said, through the Wilton cake course I've been taking I've learned tons about piping and molding and sculpting sugar that I never would have even considered attempting on my own.

Take these fondant roses for example. They look beautiful if I do say so myself (or at least most of them do... there was some minor wiltage when I attempted to make a bunch of them in the sun. FYI sugar melts in the sun). The surprising part about these flowers wasn't how simple they were to make (note how I say "simple" and not "easy"), but how cathartic and relaxing the whole process was. Sometimes simple repetition gets old and stale fast, in this case however, meticulously molding each petal and working with each imperfection (instead of against them) to create something beautiful and unique was rewarding in a calm and muted sort of way.

I've never been any sort of artist. Even in the loosest most general form of the word it's difficult to consider myself that way. However I could definitely continue to make these types of things without any difficulty at all.

I read something once that said, "we are perfect in our imperfection". I think that's why I enjoyed making these flowers so much. The ones with the greatest imperfections turned out looking the best and the most realistic (with a few truly awful exceptions. Seriously. Some of them in no way resembled... anything). Knowing that really keeps the pressure off. When it comes to a lot of things actually.

Best Buttercream Ever (it's gonna kill me...)

I’m twenty-two years old and according to my doctor, I have high cholesterol. This isn’t the good cholesterol that keeps your body fit and your brain active, no, this is the cholesterol that supposedly clogs your arteries like a bad traffic jam and results in your early -- and most definitely ugly-- demise. This comes off as somewhat of a slap-in-the-face to me not because of my age, but because of my “active lifestyle”, perfect weight range, and the fact that while I may be making loads of sugary confections every week, I very rarely eat more than a couple bites or a single slice. All this restraint and motivation, not to mention the hours spent peddling peddling peddling away on the stationary bike sweating buckets and going nowhere, has resulted in me feeling and looking good, but also having the chemical makeup of an eighty year old obese man!

I shouldn’t complain too much. I’ve done my own research and found that most recent studies on “bad” cholesterol have shown that it is in no way related to heart disease (and, in turn, in no way related to my early and ugly demise). This is a relief. A huge relief actually. The chart my doctor gave me listing the foods I was to stay away from and the foods I was “allowed” to eat was... extensive. To sum it up, I can eat any fruit except coconut, most vegetables, absolutely no butter or other milk products with more than... 0% Milk Fat, and as many egg whites and boiled chicken breasts as I want.

So when I discovered the Best Buttercream Recipe EVER--a recipe that contained 8 egg yolks and over a pound of butter-- I figured the best course of action would be to say a quick prayer to the gods of deliciousness, whip it up, and know that if my research was wrong and I suddenly died of intense artery cloggage, at least I’ll have died with a smile on my face.

Which brings me to the whole point of this rambling post, which would be to give you the recipe for a buttercream that I guarantee will make you moan softly, close your eyes in bliss and revel in the joy that comes from an image of fluffy pastel wearing angels dancing on your tongue. Ladies and gentlemen, don’t let the simplicity fool you, this is not your grandmother’s buttercream.


Buttercream
Adapted from Baking by James Peterson

8 egg yolks (I only used 6 because that was all that I had)
1.25 lbs unsalted butter just a titch cooler than room temperature cut into small pieces
2 cups sugar
2/3 cup water
2 tsp vanilla (or your choice of flavoring)

1. Pour your sugar and water into a heavy bottomed saucepan and boil on high until it reaches the "soft ball" stage. Meanwhile, beat the egg yolks on med-high speed in your mixer until they quadruple in volume and are very pale. About 10 minutes.
2. While the mixer is running, slowly pour in the hot sugar syrup careful not to touch the sides of the bowl or the beater itself.
3. Add the butter, one chunk at a time, waiting until each chunk is incorporated before adding more. Add vanilla.
4. The mixture should change suddenly and become very pale, thick, and fluffy.