Willow Bird Baking - Page 83 of 127 - lessons in life & kitchen confidence

Sticky Toffee Pudding Cheesecake

Listen, this entire post is about turn signals. Like, the whole post (with the exception of some cheesecakey bits). I’m just warning you in case you’re not in a turn signal sort of mood.

(You are in a Sticky Toffee Pudding Cheesecake sort of mood though, right? Good.)

sticky toffee love.

I am not a violent person in general, but there is nothing that makes me wish I had a rocket launcher stashed in my glove compartment more than people who don’t use turn signals. Turn signals are included on your vehicle to let other people know where you’re headed so they don’t plow into you and die. They’re, like, important*.

(Am I ruining the serene vibe we had going on here with all the pretty pastels and birdies and such? I’m probably totally harshing the mellow with my latent road rage. Sorry.)

Just think of cheesecake.

Actually, I don’t care if you ignore your turn signal sometimes. I’m not unreasonable. For instance:

Are you driving down a deserted road in the middle of the frigid Nebraska night, with no one but a few chilly cows to watch you with disdain as you turn left with no prior warning? It’s cool. No need to signal. The bovine haters will learn to accept your rebellious agrarian road rules.

Are you one of those bodacious** ice road truckers whose existence I honestly still kind of question? You crazy mythological creature, you! Forget those turn signals. No one needs to be notified that you’re about to veer in a different direction across the frozen tundra.

cheesecakes are also exempt from signaling.

Are you Abraham Lincoln? Abe, you were one honest, tall, admirable dude. I don’t think anyone would hold it against you if you didn’t signal before you turned your horse and buggy. Plus, you’re (sadly) deceased. Dead people do not need to use turn signals.

If you’re not a Nebraskan farmer, an ice road trucker, Abraham Lincoln, or dead, however, you’re going to have to suck it up and signal***.

And if you’re one of the billions of Charlotteans who seem to think it’s not important to use your turn signal when switching into the middle lane of a busy multilane highway in the middle of the night, well. The Charlotte police department has granted me the right to revoke your license (okay, no they haven’t.) But I think it’s just kind of implied that I’m allowed to do so.

the one with the cheesecake makes the rules.

Well. After all that road rage, I think we need something comforting. How about something so comforting you want to bathe in it? Something so comforting you want to wear it around like a sticky toffee snuggie? How about a thick, sloppy slice of Sticky Toffee Pudding Cheesecake?

Just to address the elephant in the room: yes, the cake is about as ugly as sin (or as ugly as not using one’s turn signal? Sorry, I’ll stop.) The crust crumbled down to just the cheesecake height. The toffee pudding is puckery on top. The whole thing is decidedly brown. Please don’t be deterred, though. Firstly, you can dress it up with a drizzle of toffee sauce and some pretty flatware. Secondly, it’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.

It’s not surprising that it’s good: it’s buttery toffee sauce on top of smooshy, date-filled pudding (in the British sense, y’all, not the Jell-O sense) on top of a creamy cheesecake on top of a gingersnap and graham cracker crust. It did surprise me, though, how good it was. And really, how freeing. Knowing that your goal is a homey, warm, comforting dessert instead of a beautiful one can make the whole process feel more forgiving.

Much more forgiving than I am with regards to your driving practices, for sure.

u-g-l-y, this cake ain’t got no alibi — but it’s nothing a little toffee sauce can’t fix.

*Full disclosure: I’m sure that at some point, I have neglected to use a turn signal. You guys are free to call me the crap out if you ever see it happening. This is probably safe to say since very few of you know what sort of car I drive. Heh.

**In writing this post, I came across this Yahoo! Answers post about how to talk about Andrew Jackson without using the word “badass,” and I admit I laughed for at least a full minute. I guess I can’t talk, because I was searching for a way to describe ice road truckers without using that word.

***I still love you even if you don’t use your turn signal. Please still love me even though I just wrote an entire post admonishing you.

Time for cake!

Sticky Toffee Pudding Cheesecake

Recipe by: Willow Bird Baking, using Food Network’s pudding recipe
Yield: 10-12 servings

There are no words for how delicious this dessert is. Buttery toffee sauce cascades over smooshy, date-filled sticky toffee pudding on top of a creamy cheesecake. The recipe can be made over several days and made in advance, making it convenient in addition to delectable. I served slices warmed for 30-40 seconds in the microwave and with a drizzle of extra toffee sauce. A scoop of ice cream or a dollop of whipped cream would be a lovely addition.

Cheesecake Ingredients:
3 (8 ounce) packages cream cheese, at room temperature
1 cup granulated sugar
1½ tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 large eggs
2 heaping cups cookie crumbs (I used a 50/50 mixture of graham cracker and gingersnap crumbs)
6 tablespoons butter

Sticky Toffee Pudding Ingredients:
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 cup pitted dates, finely chopped (Oh Nuts! provided me with these)
1 1/4 cups boiling water
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup butter, room temperature
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Toffee Sauce Ingredients:
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 cup packed light brown sugar

Directions:
Notes: Cheesecakes are simple and super customizable. New to cheesecake making? Watch my 6 minute Cheesecake Video Tutorial for visual assistance! This recipe can be divided up over several days — you can make and refrigerate both the cheesecake and pudding in advance. Simply make the toffee sauce and assemble the day you’re serving the cake.

Make the cheesecake: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly grease a springform cheesecake pan. Combine the cookie crumbs and melted butter in a small bowl. Toss with a fork to moisten all of the crumbs. Using a flat-sided glass, press into a thin layer covering the bottom and sides (you want it to be tall — try to get to about 2.5-3 inches high and not too thick in any one spot) of your cheesecake pan. Bake the crust for about 6 minutes and let it cool as you make your cheesecake filling.

In a large bowl, beat the cream cheese and sugar on medium-high speed until well blended. Beat in the flour. Add in the vanilla and beat until well incorporated, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. Beat in the eggs one at a time, scraping down the bowl between each addition. Pour the filling into your crust.

Bake until the top is lightly browned, puffed and cracked at the edges, and the center moves only very slightly when the pan is lightly shaken (about 40 minutes). Check while baking periodically and put a pie shield (or strips of foil) around the top of your pan to protect the crust edges if they’re getting too dark. Just don’t let the shield/foil touch the crust — it’s delicate and might crumble. Let cheesecake cool before chilling it in the fridge for at least 3 hours. (My crust kind of crumbled on top as the cheesecake cooled and pulled it inward, but don’t fret if this happens — everything will still be delicious! I just swept away the crumblies with a pastry brush.)

Make Sticky Toffee Pudding: In the meantime, grease a 9-inch round cake pan. Place a parchment paper round in it to line the bottom, and grease the paper as well. You don’t want your pudding stuck in your pan!

Sift the flour and baking powder onto a sheet of waxed paper (I love doing this with dry ingredients, because then the paper becomes a funnel for easy transport of your dry ingredients and you aren’t using an extra bowl). In a separate small bowl, gently mix the dates, boiling water, baking soda. Set this aside.

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy (2-3 minutes). Add the egg and vanilla and beat to combine. Gradually mix in the flour mixture, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. Fold in (I did a little folding and a little stirring, since it was quite soupy, but just be gentle with it) the date mixture with a spatula. Pour your batter into your prepared pan and bake until the pudding is set up and firm, about 35 minutes (jiggle the pan and watch the middle). Let the pudding cool completely on a wire rack before inverting it onto a wax paper lined plate and popping it in the freezer to firm up for easy handling (or leave it in the fridge overnight).

Make the Toffee Sauce: In a small saucepan, combine the butter, heavy cream and brown sugar. Bring this to a boil, whisking constantly. Boil gently for about 8 minutes over medium low heat, or until the mixture is thickened.

Assemble the cake: Preheat the broiler. Spoon about 1/3 cup of toffee sauce onto the surface of your cheesecake to serve as a “glue” and gently place your sticky toffee pudding layer on top, pressing to adhere. Top this layer with about 1/3 cup of the toffee sauce and spread this around evenly on top. Place the cake under the broiler until the topping is bubbly, about 1 minute (keep a close watch! I rotated mine carefully every few seconds for even bubbling). Carefully remove the springform pan and using a sturdy spatula or two, place cheesecake on serving platter (if you’re nervous, just remove the sides of the springform pan and serve it straight from the base — no worries). Serve slices with extra toffee sauce and whipped cream or ice cream.

P.S. Oh Nuts! sent me California Medjool Dates to try free of charge. My opinions are always my own and always thoughtfully prepared with consideration for my readers — and I loved the dates! It was my first date experience and now I’m hooked.

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December 6, 2011 by Julie Ruble | 58 Comments

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Make-Ahead Gingerbread Coffee Cake with Cranberry Pecan Streusel

“Hey Barb,” I chirped into the phone, hoping I sounded nonchalant. “You know our security deposit? Well. We’re, uh . . . we’re not getting that back.”

It was my first call to my roommate since we’d gotten the keys to our new apartment. I was standing in the living room surveying the debris field. Chaotic stacks of moving boxes littered the floor, as you might expect, but in front of me, the front doorframe lay in splinters on the floor. The door itself hung agape, swaying in the wind: a boat without a moor.

The tone of her voice took on a preparing-for-the-worst quality as she replied. “Uh-oh. What happened?” Do you want to know what happened, dear reader? I’ll tell you what happened.

It all started about an hour earlier, when I’d arrived in the parking lot of my new apartment complex with my dad and my brother, Alex, to begin moving in. We walked up the stairs and I began digging through my gigantic purse in search of my apartment key. I dug past lip gloss, receipts, gift cards, candy, my flashlight, my checkbook, my hippopotamus change purse, tampons, medicine, tissues, letters, my phone, several key rings . . .

I dug through that purse like an paleontologist for what seemed like an hour, uncovering months’ worth of fossilized garbage instead of cool dinosaur bones. And instead of, um, my apartment key.

Suddenly the awful realization dawned on me: I’d left the key at my parents’ house. I admitted this to my dad and we stared unhappily at the moving boxes we’d just hauled across town. We walked downstairs to consider our options.

We needn’t have worried, though, because Alex came down a few minutes later and relayed some “good” news: “The door’s open.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, thinking perhaps the apartment folks had left it unlocked for us. But you know where this is going. Alex didn’t mean that the door was unlocked. No. You know what Alex meant?

Alex meant that on my first day moving into my brand new apartment, he had just broken down my front door.

(Even better is that I don’t think he saw anything strange about this. He had kind of a, “Well, we had to get in, right?” attitude about the whole thing.)

As I stood in the living room relaying to Barbara that our new apartment had just been broken into (by, uh, my kid brother), I felt more than just my bank account plummet. The apartment didn’t feel so new and exciting anymore. My spirits fell. I’d been anxious about moving across town, moving in with a new roommate, and starting a new job; now it seemed my new living situation was already going poorly.

My dad returned the next day and fixed the door frame. A few nails, some spackle, and some paint and it was good as new. As for my morale, it took a little longer to improve. Barb is a magnets-on-the-refrigerator and tchotchkes-on-the-mantle person and I am not. The huge windows, while gorgeous, let in lots of cold air. The faucet in the kitchen was too low to fit a stock pot under.

Really, though, none of this was the issue. The issue was that I was in a new place and it just wasn’t home yet.

It’s been 3 years since I stood in front of my busted up doorway and broke the news to Barbara. I still don’t know if we’ll get our security deposit back. And as I mentioned to Kaitlin recently, I still don’t know that this is truly “home.”

But there have been plenty of moments that felt like “home” in this apartment. There was the time Mike walked in and saw the Valentine’s feast I’d prepared as a surprise for him. There was the time Barbara, Mike and I all decorated her Christmas tree together. There was the time I sat out on the balcony in the middle of a summer night all alone, writing poetry in the company of fireflies.

And there was the Make-Ahead Holiday Breakfast Party — Mike and I eating in our PJs by the fire, with little Byrd eating her breakfast between us.

This Gingerbread Coffee Cake was probably the easiest dish to prepare and also Mike’s favorite of the morning. The recipe began life as a regular gingerbread cake, but I revised it to include sour cream, cake flour, and a healthy dose of streusel on top to turn it into a coffee cake. It’s certainly Christmas-worthy! I hope you can find a little bit of “home” in it just like I did.

Gingerbread Coffee Cake with Cranberry Pecan Streusel

Recipe by: Willow Bird Baking, heavily adapted from Joy of Baking
Yields: 9-12 servings

This moist, gorgeous Gingerbread Coffee Cake is the perfect combination of sweet, spiced, crunchy, and comforting. The best part (besides the taste!) is that it can be made in advance and refreshed in the oven for just a few minutes before serving. You can even divide the preparation over a few days to ensure it fits into your holiday schedule. This was Mike’s favorite dish on our holiday breakfast table.

Coffee Cake Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups cake flour
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup light brown sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
1/2 cup unsulphured molasses*
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup sour cream
*Tip from Joy of Baking: To prevent the molasses from sticking to the measuring cup, first spray the cup with a non-stick vegetable spray.

Cranberry Pecan Streusel Ingredients:
3/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon cinnamon
6 tablespoons cold butter
1 cup chopped pecans (Oh Nuts! sent me Cranberry Pecans and they were so awesome for this!)
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1/4 cup apple cider

Directions:
NOTE: If you wanted to make this cake way in advance, you could complete this recipe up to the point of wrapping and refrigerating the cake. Instead, you’d double wrap it and freeze it. Then you could just thaw it overnight in the fridge before warming it through in the oven and serving it.

2 days in advance: Place the cranberries and apple cider for the streusel into a small bowl and cover. Refrigerate to rehydrate the berries.

1 day in advance: Make the streusel. First, drain the cranberries. Combine the flour and brown sugar in a medium bowl and using two knives or a pastry cutter, cut in the cold butter until you have crumbly streusel. Mix in the pecans and drained cranberries. Cover and refrigerate until ready to use.

Make the cake: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and make a foil sling for a 9-inch square baking pan: tear off 4, 16-inch long pieces of aluminum foil and fold them in half. Situate two side-by-side in the pan, covering the bottom of the pan to the edge (they will overlap). Situate the other two strips in the same manner, but perpendicular to the first. The overhanging foil of the sling will make it easy to remove the cake from the pan after baking and cooling. Butter and flour the sling.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and nutmeg. Set aside. In a separate large bowl, beat the butter and sugar with an electric mixer until pale and fluffy (at least 2-3 minutes). Add the eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. Beat in the molasses, pausing to scrape down the sides of the bowl when you need to. Gently mix the sour cream and milk in a measuring cup. Add the dry ingredients and milk mixture alternately, starting and ending with the dry ingredients. Beat until just combined.

Pour the batter into the buttered and floured baking pan and smooth the top with a spatula. Bake for about 25 minutes before sprinkling the streusel evenly over the top of the cake (and kind of pressing it on). Continue baking for 20-25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the cake comes out with just a few moist crumbs. Remove the cake from the oven and let it cool completely. Remove it from its pan using the foil sling and wrap it tightly with plastic wrap (I wrap the foil sling and all so I can just pop it back in the pan to refresh later on) and stick it in the fridge.

The morning of: Let the cake sit out and come to room temperature while you preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Pop it back in its pan and into the oven for a few minutes until warmed through. Let it cool for about 10 minutes.

P.S. Oh Nuts! sent me Cranberry Pecans to try free of charge. My opinions are always my own and always thoughtfully prepared with consideration for my readers — and I loved ’em!

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December 3, 2011 by Julie Ruble | 33 Comments

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Bright Pepper Jelly (and Welcome to the new Willow Bird Baking)

Last week I did around 8 billion google searches for recipes, and a solid million of those (give or take a few) were for pepper jelly.

I’d recently been inundated with it at restaurants — pepper jelly on fried pimiento cheese balls, pepper jelly on grilled chile cornbread, pepper jelly on fried green tomatoes — and had developed a bit of an obsession with the stuff.

My recipe search yielded tons of pepper jellies, but none were satisfactory. I was willing to experiment with the hot-sweet balance and the tang of my jelly, but I had one non-negotiable: I didn’t want the recipe to involve canning.

I’d never canned before. I didn’t know how to can. I didn’t want to learn a whole new thing in the middle of a busy week. I wasn’t sure if I had all the materials I needed. There were lots of reasons for my stubbornness. But much to my annoyance, recipe after recipe began, “Sterilize six half-pint mason jars . . . .”

Finally, still skeptical, I broke down and read about the process of preserving food. If you’ve ever done any canning yourself, you probably know what I found out:

It’s easy.

Like, super easy. You sterilize some jars (which can be as simple as running them through the dishwasher), pour a simple hot jelly mixture into them, close the lids, and then boil them to create a seal. The “equipment” you needed was limited to jars, a pair of tongs with some rubber bands on the end for gripping, and a big stock pot. Really? This was what I was afraid of?

Running smack into a wall of my own self-doubt forced me to realize that it was comprised of shoddy materials — insecurity, laziness, haste — and needed to be torn down. It also reminded me of Willow Bird Baking’s reason for being: to share life lessons and build kitchen confidence in other home cooks just like me. If I shy away from a new technique, how can I encourage my friends to charge ahead and tackle unfamiliar things?

Feeling admonished by my own website’s mission, I prepared my materials and successfully canned seven lovely jars of bright pepper jelly. Mike and I glopped it onto buttered sourdough toast by the spoonfuls at our Make-Ahead Holiday Breakfast Party on Saturday morning.

My pride in having tackled a new challenge renewed — as it always does — my dedication to the community here at Willow Bird Baking. Every comment or anecdote we share with one another encourages me when my pie crust turns to pie dust, my cake is falling over, or my brownies are lying in the floor. We’re all in this together, and the result is more than just great food. The result is great friendships.

. . . and pepper jelly.

Speaking of the bonds we’ve forged over pepper jelly and other such culinary challenges, I’ve got something to show you. I’ve waited for weeks to reveal what I’ve been working on behind the scenes: Welcome to the new Willow Bird Baking!

We have a brand new home on the web (at willowbirdbaking.com) and a clean, warm new design. Willow Bird Baking is also sporting a new, exhaustive recipe index where you can browse recipes by type, season, meal — and even by color!

This news means more to me than just a makeover. Willow Bird’s appearance finally reflects the comforting, loving, simple environment we’ve created here. The blog become a forum to share everything from family memories to laughter over our mistakes. Really, the fact that I can reveal this new chapter in Willow Bird’s life to you means the world to me. Thank you for reading.

Bright Pepper Jelly

Recipe by: Adapted from (thanks, Erin for this recipe!)
Yield: 7 half-pint jars of jelly

This pepper jelly is bright, tangy, and has the perfect balance of hot and sweet. Feel free to adjust the ratio of peppers to your taste, though, so long as the overall quantity is 4 cups. The consistency is that of a thin jelly — if you like a thicker, spreadable jelly, I hear you can double the amount of pectin in the recipe. Serve this pepper jelly spooned over crackers with cream cheese or slathered on buttered toast. Oh, and don’t worry if you’ve never canned anything before; the recipe below will walk you through the process step by step.

Ingredients:
2 1/4 cups finely chopped red bell peppers
1 1/4 cups finely chopped green bell peppers
1/2 cup finely chopped jalapeno peppers
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1 (1.75 ounce each) package powdered pectin (or 2 if you want a thicker jelly)
5 cups white sugar

Equipment needed:
6 or 7 (8-ounce or half-pint) canning jars
tongs (preferably with rubber bands around the ends to improve grip)
a large stockpot or canner (with room for your jars to be fully submerged with 2 inches of water above the top of the jars)
a dish towel or rack to keep the jars off the bottom of the pot

Directions:
Note: Do not adjust the amount of sugar and vinegar in canning recipes. Always use gloves when chopping jalapenos or other hot peppers and avoid touching your eyes or face. Wash your hands and surfaces immediately when finished.

Prepare ingredients: Chop the peppers by hand and then drain them in cheesecloth to remove excess moisture. Set them aside while you sterilize your jars. You can also measure out sugar and vinegar so that you’re prepared.

Sterilize your tongs and 7 (8-ounce) canning jars: Place rubber bands on the end of the tongs, which will make it easier to grip your jars. Boil the ends of the tongs for 5 minutes to sterilize them. Sterilize your jars, lids, and rings by running them through a short cycle on the dishwasher or using the oven method or boiling water method (see below). No matter which method you choose, time them to be finished when your jelly is ready (preparing the jelly takes about 15 minutes) so that you can put the hot preserves into hot jars.

Oven method: Preheat the oven to 175 degrees F. Wash the lids and jars with hot, soapy water and rinse them. Line the lids and jars up on a baking sheet (open sides up) and bake them for 25 minutes.

Stovetop method: Wash the lids and jars with hot, soapy water and rinse them. Boil the jars and lids covered with water for 15 minutes.

While jars sterilize, make jelly: Place all of the peppers into a large saucepan over high heat. Add the vinegar and fruit pectin and bring the mixture up to a full rolling boil, stirring constantly. Stir in the sugar and return the mixture to a full boil. Boil exactly 2 minutes, continuing to stir constantly. Remove the mixture from the heat and skim off any foam before carefully and quickly ladling the jelly into hot, sterile jars. Fill each jar to within 1/4 inch of its top. Cover each jar with a flat lid and screw on its ring.

Process your jars: Slowly lower the jars with tongs into a large stock pot or canner with a rack or a folded towel inside so the jars do not touch the bottom. Cover the jars with hot water that isn’t boiling (the water depth should be about 2 inches above the top of the jars — and make sure your pot is large enough that it won’t boil over when the water boils). Bring the water to a full boil and process the jars for 5 minutes before removing them with tongs and cooling completely. Hearing the jars pop while they cool is normal — this is the sound they make while they’re sealing!

Store in a cool dark place until you’re ready to serve over crackers with cream cheese, or on hot buttered toast. For best quality, use within a year. Refrigerate jars after opening for up to 1 month.

November 30, 2011 by Julie Ruble | 62 Comments

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Foodbuzz 24×24: The Make-Ahead Holiday Breakfast Party (Recipe: Salted Caramel Mocha Hot Chocolate)

I remember that Christmas morning with all the clarity of the glass icicles adorning our Christmas tree — at least one of which was shattered each year, an inadvertent Christmas tradition. Mom was sitting on the couch in her dramatic floral robe. The scent of coffee — which I loved, despite being averse to the bitter taste — filled the house. The rest of the family was milling about the living room, preparing to distribute the presents.

Suddenly, with a pine needley, jingle-jangly harrrrrumph!, the Christmas tree outright fell on my mother.

I mean, one minute that thing was standing tall, looking regal and festive, and the next it was on her head. She let out a startled cry and flailed from between its branches, sending ornaments and pine needles flying around the room.

Mom will disagree — and okay, my little brother’s First Christmas ornament broke, and that was sad — but this was quite possibly the most hilarious and lively Ruble Christmas morning to date.

Other Christmas mornings were notable too. There was the one where I found, after opening all my gifts, that I hadn’t received the one thing I wanted most: a pedal go-kart. I pasted on a happy face, but I was disappointed. I did have one present left, but it was a card and didn’t look promising.

The card turned out to be from Santa. I scanned it halfheartedly, and realized that it was a set of instructions. I was supposed to head upstairs to my sister’s room. Suddenly, my heart filled with hope. I charged up the stairs eagerly and shot through the door. There, in all its bright yellow glory, was my go-kart!

Other years brought a dose of holiday reality. When I was around 6, I opened my parents’ closet a few days before Christmas to put some clothes away. To my great surprise, I found myself staring at a gigantic dollhouse. I was so stunned that it took me a few moments to realize that this must be a poorly hidden Christmas present.

My tiny heart filled with glee as I briefly surveyed the three-story mansion, complete with furniture, a balcony, and landscaping. I’d always been enamored with miniatures, and now my parents had apparently decided to indulge my dollhouse obsession. I closed the door, thrilled at my discovery and determined to act surprised when I received my gift.

On Christmas morning, I ran downstairs and sure enough, the dollhouse was standing in the living room like a beacon of childhood happiness, boasting a big bow. I squealed joyfully and ran over to it, only to hear my parents call out, “That’s for your sister!”

Those four words — so tiny! so brief! — cut me down faster than a fir tree on a Christmas farm.

family photo!

Then there was the Christmas morning I woke up and accidentally stabbed myself in the nose while trying to brush my hair out of my face. My entire family, probably confused but not surprised by the fact that I’d managed to injure myself immediately upon waking, waited patiently while I tried to stop the bleeding.

I couldn’t make this stuff up.

salted caramel.

It’s true; Christmas morning has varied wildly over the years — exciting, disappointing, joyous, dangerous, absurd. One constant that we’ve all come to cherish, though, is Christmas morning breakfast. Every single year, without fail, my mother wakes up early, bakes an egg casserole, and rolls out dough to make fresh cinnamon rolls. While we’re all still counting sugar plums in our jammies, she’s hard at work in the kitchen.

This year, in her honor, I decided to design some recipes specifically for a holiday breakfast — dishes that in addition to being fancy and indulgent, could be prepared almost entirely in advance. To test my menu — that’s my excuse, and I’m stickin’ to it — I threw a Make-Ahead Holiday Breakfast Party, where I decked my halls and created a make-believe Christmas morning.

The party turned out to be special even beyond the menu. See, Mike and I have never spent a Christmas morning together, despite being in a relationship for most of the past 12 years.

I’m not complaining. So many families are separated on Christmas morning because of deployment, distance, and even death. Our situation is downright joyful by comparison. We’re separated each year because both of our families have Christmas morning traditions. We spend time with our own parents in the morning before meeting later to enjoy Christmas afternoon together. This year, though, my Make-Ahead Holiday Breakfast Party was the perfect way to create a “Christmas morning” for just us.

So yesterday morning, we donned our PJs and slippers in true Christmas morning fashion. I lit my first ever fire, put the finishing touches on all of the make-ahead dishes I’d prepared earlier in the week, and we sat down together to eat. Little Byrd sat between us eating her Christmas kibble. Our plates, however, were loaded down with Gingerbread Coffee Cake, Cinnamon Stix with Eggnog Glaze, Savory Bread Pudding with Cranberries and Fennel, Winter Breakfast Chili in Sourdough Bowls, and Buttered Toast with Bright Pepper Jam.

Between bites, we sipped this Salted Caramel Mocha Hot Chocolate. I’m not one for hot breakfast drinks, usually, but I’d make an exception for this thing any day. You coat the mug with hot, buttery salted caramel before pouring in the steaming mocha hot chocolate (where coffee plays a supporting role than the lead). The whole thing is topped with a mess of caramel whipped cream and a caramel drizzle.

I’ll be sharing the other make-ahead breakfast recipes with you throughout the coming weeks as you prepare for the holidays. In the meantime, share your favorite Christmas morning memories. Anyone have any harrowing experience with falling Christmas trees?

Salted Caramel Mocha Hot Chocolate

Recipe by: Willow Bird Baking, inspired by Savory Sweet Life, adapted from Martha Stewart (caramel and cream) and TLC
Yield: 2 big mugs of hot chocolate

I can’t really quantify how buttery, caramelly, chocolatey, and delicious this Salted Caramel Mocha Hot Chocolate is, so let me just say: mmmmmm. I don’t like coffee, but in this recipe it’s there to add richness and balance, and isn’t the dominant flavor. The recipe is designed to be completed mostly in advance, making it lovely for a holiday morning breakfast — or anytime you’re in a festive mood. Also, don’t be afraid of caramel. This recipe includes temperatures, and as long as you use a candy thermometer, you’ll be great!

Mocha Hot Chocolate Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups milk
1/2 cup brewed coffee
2 tablespoons semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 tablespoons bittersweet chocolate chips (I love Ghirardelli 60% cacao)
2 tablespoons sugar

Caramel Sauce and Cream Ingredients:
3/4 cup sugar
1/8 cup water
3/4 cup heavy cream
1/8 cup creme fraiche or sour cream
1/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of coarse salt

Directions:
1 to 3 days in advance: Make the hot chocolate and the caramel. First, heat the milk, coffee, chocolate, and sugar in a saucepan over medium heat, whisking constantly until it comes to a boil. Remove it from the heat and whisk it to ensure it’s fully combined. Pour it into a bowl and let it cool, stirring periodically, before covering it and refrigerating it.

Make caramel sauce: Prepare an ice-water bath and set a heavy bowl in it. Heat the sugar and water in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat until mixture boils and sugar dissolves (don’t stir at all, or crystals will form and make your caramel grainy). Use a pastry brush to wash down sides of pan often to prevent crystals from forming. When the sugar starts to turn amber, you can swirl a couple of times to ensure it’s caramelizing evenly.

Cook until the sugar turns a dark amber (definitely use a candy thermometer here! You’re looking for it to read about 345 degrees), 5 to 7 minutes more. Immediately remove from heat, and slowly whisk in 1/2 cup cream (reserve the rest of the cream in the fridge). It will bubble up when you do this, so be careful. Return the caramel to medium heat, whisking and heating until the sugar melts completely and the mixture boils.

Remove the pan from the heat and pour the caramel into a bowl set in an ice-water bath. Let the caramel cool, stirring often, for 10 minutes. Whisk in creme fraiche or sour cream, vanilla, and salt. Cover and refrigerate this.

The morning of: Reheat the chocolate mixture in a saucepan over medium heat on the stove (or for a couple of minutes in the microwave), stirring often. In the meantime, whip your remaining 1/4 cup cream in a cold bowl to stiff peaks.

Coat the sides of two mugs with caramel sauce, reserving a little over half of it. Gently fold most of the rest of the caramel sauce into your whipped cream (reserving a little to drizzle on top). Fill caramel coated mugs with mocha hot chocolate. Top with caramel cream and drizzled caramel. Serve immediately.

Note: I received a stipend from Foodbuzz for creating this meal.

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November 28, 2011 by Julie Ruble | 10 Comments

cakes, other

Salted Caramel Chocolate Trifle

The first face to poke through the door of my classroom was that of an older woman. She was followed by one of my 7th grade students, who was followed by a white haired man. “Come in! Find a seat anywhere!” I called as I made last minute adjustments to the position of the projector.

Soon people were pouring into my room. They had arrived for Grandfriends Day, where Woodlawn students invited their grandparents (or grandpeople they’d “adopted”) to eat lunch with them and participate in their classes.

I’m going to go ahead and publicly admit that I was terrified of Grandfriends Day. What activity could I plan that both a 60-year-old and a 12-year-old might enjoy? We usually read novels or tackle projects that take weeks to complete. What concept could I introduce and cover in a meaningful way in 30 minutes?

Thankfully, I learned a trick at the beginning of my teaching career that always serves me well in these types of circumstances: when you’re scared of a new thing, get enthusiastic and give it an honest, earnest try. (This also works with baking, writing, and life in general.) So as the students and their grandfriends filtered into my room, I pasted on a smile.

Once they were all somewhat assembled, I took a deep breath and did something a little ridiculous. I turned on the projector and pressed play on this video (no, really, go watch it). Confusion turned into giggles as Maru the cat repeatedly attempted to gain access to a huge cardboard box. Young and old alike cheered when he finally sprang into its depths. I surveyed the classroom as they watched, concluding that funny YouTube clips were, indeed, a language that spanned the generations.

When the video ended, I posed a question: “What was Maru’s goal?”

“To get in the box!” the class cried in unison.

“Did he accomplish his goal the first time he tried?”

“No!”

“How about the second?”

“No!”

“Did he eventually get in the box?”

“Yes!”

Their enthusiasm was cute. They were still riding the wave of cheer that Maru’s antics had created. I distributed sheets of notebook paper as I issued their assignment: “Write about a time when you, like Maru, had a goal you couldn’t accomplish right away.”

Some dove at their paper with ardor while others thoughtfully drummed fingers or pencils on the desk. A short ten minutes later, though, everyone sat staring at their finished anecdote. I asked for volunteers to share, wholly unsure about the quality of work I was about to receive. I needn’t have been concerned, though. I have great students and, it turns out, they have amazing grandfriends.

One man told of learning to drive a car with a manual transmission and repeatedly killing the engine before finally getting the hang of it. Another told of being determined to get his garden planted despite the rain that threatened to prevent it. A third detailed how he and his construction crew had created a machine that could drive 16 nails a second to accomplish their goals more efficiently.

Two women discussed taking a pottery class and working for months before they produced the bowl or vase they’d envisioned. My students relayed sports goals they’d attempted to accomplish: a back set in volleyball, a backflip in gymnastics. Finally, one of my students raised his hand and asked to read his grandfather’s composition.

His grandfather had worked with a veterinarian as a young man and decided to enter into that profession himself. His application to NC State’s veterinary program, however, was denied. Undeterred, he entered the college for agriculture instead, and — my student articulated the following with great pride — became the first person in his family to graduate from college.

We were all quiet for a minute before one clap — and then another, and then another — began a round of applause for this man’s accomplishment. It was one of those moments (you teachers out there will know just what I mean) when I thought, “Oh, this is why I teach.”

Some folks that day had reached their goal by pushing through the obstacles. Others had used trial and error, learning from their mistakes and adjusting their actions. Still others had created a tool to help them accomplish their objective. That man, though, had courage and flexibility I sometimes lack. Instead of getting discouraged, he changed his goal. He created a path for himself that wasn’t what he’d originally envisioned. The pride his whole family felt at his accomplishment was a testimony to his success.

I wish I’d had that much grace this week when making this Salted Caramel Chocolate Cake. Yes, I said cake, because that’s what this dessert was supposed to be.

My goal was to create a towering chocolate cake drenched in gooey salted caramel and frosted with a smooth, fudgy icing. I saw that goal crumble before my eyes, however, when I opened my refrigerator and found all 6 layers sliiiiiiding down like they were preparing to do the limbo. The skewers I’d added for support were leaning right along with the cake.

I could pretend I handled it well, because this is the internet. For all you know I’m a supermodel who, apart from saving puppies and keeping a perfect house, never loses her temper. In the spirit of honesty, however, let’s just say that there was a solid 30 minutes of angst in my kitchen Wednesday night.

Then somehow I flipped a switch. I stopped trying to restack the layers, grabbed a spoon and my trifle dish (thanks for my trifle dish, Joyce!), and started building this bucket o’ cake. As I worked, my mood improved drastically.

Not only was my trifle pretty, less fuss to frost, and easier to transport, but it was also going to taste every bit as delicious as the cake I’d envisioned. The satisfied faces of my family around the Thanksgiving table the next day confirmed that it was a success.

Your turn: tell me about a time when you had a goal you couldn’t accomplish right away.

Salted Caramel Chocolate Trifle

Recipe by: Adapted from Martha Stewart
Yield: About a billion servings. Or at least 10-15.

This is actually a recipe for a 6-layer salted caramel chocolate cake. Feel free to attempt the cake and keep the trifle as a backup plan in case it doesn’t work — or just make the trifle from the beginning! Either way, the dessert you end up with will be rich, moist, and covered in the most delicious salted caramel and fudgy frosting. By the way, if you’re scared of making caramel, don’t be — just make sure you use a candy thermometer, which takes the guesswork out of the process.

Cake Ingredients:
3 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for pans
3 cups granulated sugar
1 1/2 cups unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1 tablespoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons coarse salt
4 large eggs
1 1/2 cups low-fat buttermilk
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons safflower oil
1 1/2 cups warm water
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

Caramel Ingredients:
4 cups granulated sugar
1/4 cup light corn syrup
1/4 cup water
2 cups heavy cream
1 teaspoon coarse salt
2 sticks cold unsalted butter

Frosting Ingredients:
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons warm water
2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar
Coarse salt
1 pound semisweet chocolate chips, melted and cooled
flaked sea salt, such as Maldon

Directions:
Note on scheduling: You can make the cake layers a few days in advance. Just wrap them and refrigerate them, and take them out and freeze them the day you’ll be cutting and assembling them (which will make them easier to work with). You can make the caramel up to three days in advance and keep it in the fridge — just let it come to room temperature for a couple of hours before using it. The entire cake can be assembled a day in advance and refrigerated, allowing its flavors to meld.

Make the cake: Cut 3 circles of parchment paper and use cooking spray as “glue” to adhere them to 3 9-inch round cake pans. Then grease the pans and the paper (I use Wilton’s Cake Release, but you could also use butter and flour). Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Sift the flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, and coarse salt together in a mixing bowl. Beat the dry ingredients on low until combined before increasing the speed to medium and adding eggs, buttermilk, warm water, oil, and vanilla. Beat about 3 minutes until the mixture is smooth. Divide it among the three pans.

Place the pans in the oven and bake until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out with just a few moist crumbs, about 30-35 minutes. Rotate the pans about halfway through so they’ll bake evenly. Let them cool on a wire rack for about 10 minutes before turning them out onto sheets of wax paper and leaving them to cool completely. Stick them in the freezer if you’re going to make a cake; if you’re going for a trifle, just leave them out.

Make the caramel: Slice your butter into tablespoon chunks and set it back in the fridge for later. In a large saucepan, gently combine the sugar, corn syrup, and water. Once you put it on the heat, you won’t stir it anymore to ensure that the sugar will not crystallize and give you grainy caramel. Put a candy thermometer on the pan and heat it over high heat (no stirring!). Once the mixture starts turning amber around 320 degrees, you can gently swirl it every now and then (not stirring!) to ensure the sugar caramelizes evenly. Heat it until the mixture is dark amber (350 degrees on your thermometer), about 14 minutes. Remove it from the heat.

VERY CAREFULLY and slowly, pour in the cream. The mixture will bubble up and spatter so just be prepared and stand back — flaming sugar is no joke! Once you add the cream, whisk the mixture until it’s smooth before returning it to the heat and cooking until it reaches exactly 238 degrees (I know it sounds weird, but apparently this is crucial for the texture), about 2 minutes. Pour the caramel into a medium bowl and add the salt. Let it cool for about 15 minutes before whisking in the butter 1 tablespoon at a time (you’re definitely going to want to enlist another set of hands here; otherwise your arm will fall off).

Make the frosting: In a small bowl, whisk together the cocoa and warm water. In a separate bowl, beat together butter, confectioners’ sugar, and a generous pinch of coarse salt until pale and fluffy. Gradually beat in the melted chocolate and the cocoa mixture. Let this sit for about 30 minutes before you use it.

Assemble the cake (or trifle): If you’re making a trifle, simply tear up the cake and alternate layers of cake and 3/4 cup of caramel in your bowl, using a spoon or offset spatula sprayed with cooking spray to help spread the caramel. Do a layer of frosting in the middle of the dish and another layer on top before drizzling with caramel and sprinkling with sea salt.

Alternatively, if you want to try the cake, freeze your cake layers until they’re firmer (this makes them much easier to work with). Use a long serrated knife to level their tops and cut each layer in half. Place one layer on a serving platter and spoon 3/4 cup of caramel on top, using a spoon or offset spatula sprayed with cooking spray to help spread the caramel. Place another cake layer on top and repeat the process, alternating layers of cake and caramel, leaving the top cake layer uncovered. For goodness’ sake, place dowels through your cake (I’d say at least 4), mark them at the height of the cake, remove them, and cut them down to size. Then replace them in the cake. I’d also wrap the entire cake tightly in plastic wrap before chilling it to prevent sliding. Refrigerate it until it’s set (about an hour) before frosting the top and sides of the cake and sprinkling with sea salt.

Serve the trifle or cake: I think this dessert is delicious no matter what, but it’s absolutely out-of-this-world if you heat a serving of it for about 30 seconds before spooning a big hunk o’ vanilla ice cream on top. I didn’t try this with a cake slice, so I don’t know that it’d hold together — another benefit of a messy trifle.