Category: Food

So, when wee Alex had his birthday, he came to me. What did he say? “Can you make me a Guinness Cake? Please?” Once again, this cake met and exceeded expectations of wonderfulness – not too sweet, not too dry, and wonderfully overwhelming. Alex, of course, is in his 20’s, and refers to his hands as paws, and is certainly not wee. He’s even engaged to be married! (shh! he’s not telling too many people, as it’s an international thing, and nobody knows when they’ll be able to sort out the visas and all that)

This time I followed the full recipe (plus vanilla bean, cinnamon, and nutmeg) instead of Anne’s Version, and baked it in the 16-inch, square pan. I then cut it in 4, layering ganache in between, and coated the whole thing in ganache. It barely fit into the cake keeper.

In the office, there was a whole 5 minutes in which nobody talked, and all that could be heard was Jim, humming away happily. It was quite amazing.

It was 21°C / 70°F today, in Glasgow. With 69% humidity. It was horrifying. How will we ever adapt to California again?

They’re nothing to take pictures of, really, but they sure are filling, give you at least three or four meals of eating (important when everybody in the house is busily writing), and keep you on the straight and narrow as far as those carbs are concerned. What is this, you say? Something which tastes even better the next day, reheated? Yes. Loaves. Not loaves of bread, of course. No: “meat” loaves.

I’ve been on a bit of a loaf kick for the past few days (er … weeks?). My little sister asked what she could bring to a potluck for somebody who has severe dairy allergies, and I immediately thought of one of these. Why? Well, because they’re tasty, they’re really easy to make, and they make great leftovers.

It’s a shame that “makes great leftovers” is one of the primary motivators for us right now, but that’s the way it is. Another couple of weeks and the pressure will be off of us. For now, though, not having to think about food is a blessing. Yes, we’ve fallen off of the “foodie” wagon and into the “academic” pit of despair. That doesn’t mean that we’re eating unhealthily, though: we have the Magic Loaf Generator to come to the rescue.

It’s really not so huge of a concept: grate up a whole bunch of things, mix them together with some protein source (ground “beef” in our case) and a binder (ground flaxseed is our preference – ‘though you can have too much of that fairly easily), slap it into a pan, put it into the oven (being sure not to get distracted for more than an hour), and you’re done. Pull it out, let it sit for awhile, and you have dinner, lunch for the next day, and perhaps another meal on top of that.

Give it a try. It’s amazing what a few ground nuts, some grated veg, and a protein source can become. On top of all that: you’re in control of the whole thing, so if you’re like we are and gained weight over the holidays, there’s hope!

Yes, the title is a play: 100000 = 32 (in binary). No, it wasn’t intentional, but … I did notice the number & how it was only a single bit. Computer Science coming to get you when you least care.

Today is a day to relax, having put in an inordinate amount of time working this past week. So, Oatmeal Almond Thumbprint Cookies were the cookie of choice. I adapted this recipe by 1) subtracting the shortening, 2) cutting the total fat down to 3/4 a cup, 3) substituting 1C ground almonds instead of the walnuts, 4) adding in some allspice, nutmeg, cloves, and vanilla extract, and 5) ditching the baking soda in favor of baking powder (who likes bitterness in their cookies?).

Oatmeal Almond Thumbprint Cookies:

• 3/4 cup butter (or margarine)
• 1.75 cups demerara sugar
• 2 eggs
• 2 cups flour
• 1 Tbsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp freshly-microplaned cinnamon
• 6 allspice berries
• 4 cloves
• 10 fennel seeds
• 1/8 of a nutmeg, microplaned
• 1/2 cup water
• 3 cups oats
• 1 cup ground almonds
• 1/2 tsp almond extract
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• Raspberry jam (as much as you need)

1. Cream butter and sugar
2. Add eggs & cream until completely combined
3. Mix flour, spices, water, extracts into creamed ingredients
4. Mix in oats & ground almonds
5. Shape into 1 Tbsp spheres
6. Depress a place in the center of each cookie for the jam (I used a 1 tsp measuring spoon, dipped into water)
7. Dollop in some raspberry jam
8. Bake at 400°F / 205°C for 10-12 minutes
9. Cool on wire rack

These are really more almond cookies than oatmeal cookies, but are quite tasty. Just make sure not to let them drip over the edge of your baking sheet, or you’ll be screaming.

As you’ll recall, D. got roped into to doing a birthday cake. For a 3-year-old (as of the birthday in question). It is to be an elaborate party, and T. has been smirking about the whole thing for some time. She is the person who felt her nephew last Christmas would be more amused by an empty box than a gift, however, so she may not be the best person with whom to discuss about children’s parties. You’ll also recall that D. baked the cake because the child in question is his Ph.D supervisor’s kid, and he’s fairly tolerable, if a bit excitable when company’s over. We have no doubt that he’ll be completely unimpressed with the cake and anything at his party that isn’t screaming, running, juggling, or on fire, but the child’s mother is deeply convinced that this cake will just make the whole soirée. Motherly delusions aside, we’re pretty sure it at least tastes good.

D. took a trip into the depths of Maryhill to pick up a cake pan. Cake A Wish at Barrack Cake Decorations had exactly what we needed. (We took a moment to snicker at the name of the shop, though.) A vast business which once was three separate shops, Barrack’s has acres of stands, molds, gels, boxes, food colorant, children’s theme-shaped cake pans, and the rolled fondant icing, pre-made. We’ll definitely be going back, despite the dodgy neighborhood, the people were helpful and knowledgeable and the cake pans are rentable.

D. needed to find a cake recipe that fed fifty — and instead of doing the math and rewriting a recipe we already had, T. cheated and found one for a wedding cake. We used a recipe from epicurious, and made two poundcakes, and combined them into a five-layer single cake. D. made the recipe his own, of course and substituted half a vanilla bean (scraped) for the vanilla, and added 1 Tbsp of baking powder. Question: How can a cake have no leavening?! Answer: If it’s a pound cake with twenty-four eggs in it. Of course, the baking powder did no good at all; pound cake is dense… that’s just how it is. This is the first one D’s attempted, but we’re proud of how it turned out, even though neither of us wants to eat it. (Not fond of pound cake, and the 2 lbs. of butter doesn’t make it something that would be helpful to the physique, anyway.)

After letting the cakes cool overnight, D. did the slicing and dicing, so that he had 5 layers. In between the layers he added a mixture of strawberry jam, custard, double-cream, and crème fraîche. Then came the poured fondant icing (prepped last week) — which was meant to be blue, but against the yellow of the cake, looked oddly green — and then it was time for the rolled fondant icing.

Pre-made fondant is easy to use — and coloring it was lots of fun, because we just dropped on a bit of food coloring, kneaded it, and then decided whether we liked the color and/or the marbling effect. Next time we use it, we’ll experiment with leaving more marbling in — and we’ll buy a paste dye for it, which won’t affect the moisture levels. D. dusted a cutting board with confectioner’s sugar and rolled out the blue, and it went on smoothly. A few drops of coloring more gave us a darker blue for waves, and for the “surf” rolling up onto our marzipan sandbar/island. Then we added a few toys for the birthday boy … and that was that: one seriously huge cake. The angles of the picture don’t quite do it justice, but it’s really quite large. It’s off to the party tomorrow, at The Tall Ship, and then it’s avast ye hearties, or mateys or something. We hope they enjoy themselves, and that it doesn’t rain too hard. But, again: if it’s not on fire, or running or screaming, we doubt any of the kids will notice a little rain.