I like putting coffee liqueur in my evening hot chocolate. But the problem with coffee liqueur is that it has coffee in it. And the problem with coffee is that it has caffeine. 

I can’t have caffeine in the evening because it will keep me up at night. I also can’t drink red wine after 4 pm. Or too much water after 7. Getting a good night of sleep is tricky at my age. 

But I digress.

(Sort of. It all relates to why I can’t put coffee liqueur in my hot chocolate at night.) 

So — PLOT TWIST — I decided to make my own coffee liqueur using decaf. [tips hat and curtsies]

I made a sugar syrup, added a vanilla bean, dissolved instant decaf espresso powder in boiling water, and threw in a large quantity of vodka — which I store at room temp like a true sinner; don’t judge — and after everything hung out together in a dark place for a few weeks, I divided the mixture between two, flip-top liter bottles.

Now I’m all set for a winter’s worth of hot chocolates (or a couple Christmas gifts, if I was the sort of person to give away my treasures, which I’m not). 

Next up, homemade marshmallows because store ones are an abomination and will ruin a cup of hot chocolate faster than you can drink it. 

Coffee Liqueur

4 cups sugar
3 cups water
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
½ cup instant decaf espresso
1 cup boiling water
1 quart vodka

Bring the sugar and 3 cups of water to a boil, and then keep it at an energetic simmer for 20 minutes. Cool, and transfer to a gallon jar.

Add the vanilla been to the cooled syrup. Make sure to include every last grain of itty-bitty beanie goodnesses.

In a separate container, dissolve the instant decaf with a cup of boiling water. Cool, and then add it to the syrup, followed by the vodka, glug-glug-glug.

Store the liqueur in a dark place for a couple weeks, swirling periodically. Transfer the liqueur to bottles. 

Add this glorious devilish elixer to coffee, hot chocolate, ice cream, milk, frostings, chocolate cake, etc, etc, etc. Or sip it straight.

Good night.

This same time, years previous: seven fun things, scalloped potatoes, the quotidian (10.24.22), the quotidian (10.25.21), vote!, snowboarder cake, 2017 garden stats and notes, impressing us, winter squash soup with corn relish, our cracking whip, random.

Two weeks ago I had my first spiced pumpkin latte. It was fine (but just).

But then I made a pumpkin crumb cake. The recipe didn’t have the word “spiced” in it — but it totally could have. Or maybe should have? Thrice packed with all the spices that make up pumpkin spice, it was leagues better than that coffee. 

The cake itself is a humble affair: a sheet pan of plain-looking pumpkin bread with a simple crumb topping. But I do love me a good snacking cake — just a little something-something to have with my coffee (as opposed to in my coffee).

The first time I made it, I cut out a little corner piece while it was still hot. My husband snitched a piece, too. 

Me: This is really good. 
Him: It’s incredible. 
Me: Wow. 
Him: I don’t know if I ever had a cake this good before. 

At the start, I was the one leading the praise team’s call-and-response, but he kept pace with my enthusiams — and then we switched roles. 

Verily I tell ye, the man positively overflowed with self-initiated affirmations, shouted profanities, and groans of pleasure. Somehow a humble sheet cake had bedazzled my reserved, barely-even-grunt-if-it’s-good husband, transforming him into a raging foodie. Who was this person?

By the time we went to bed we’d eaten over half the cake. 

First thing the next morning, he flapped his arms like a toddler and squealed, “Oh goody! I get to have cake with my coffee!” 

People, I can’t make this stuff up.

But I can make another cake, and so I did — for his birthday.

Upon seeing the boring-looking dessert, the kids raised their eyebrows, like, That’s the birthday cake?

“It’s Papa’s new favorite,” I said.

Afterwards, my husband confessed he’d eaten six pieces. 

I laughed. “Well, it’s a small cake so they must’ve been pretty small pieces.”

He leaned in, wide-eyed and serious. “Six pieces, Jen. SIX.”

Spiced Pumpkin Crumb Cake
Adapted from NYT Cooking.

I beg you to please, please, pretty please make your own spice mix. A single batch makes enough spice for two cakes. (And grate your own nutmeg!)

I use roasted butternuts, but canned pumpkin works, too.

for the spice mix:
2 tablespoons cinnamon
1 tablespoon ginger
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg 
1 teaspoon cardamom
½ teaspoon allspice
¼ teaspoon cloves

for the cake:
200 grams (1 cup) brown sugar
2 eggs
230 grams (1 cup) cooked squash/pumpkin
56 grams (¼ cup) melted butter
56 grams (¼ cup) oil
190 grams (1½ cups) flour
1 tablespoon spice blend
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt

Cream together the sugar and eggs. Beat at length — like, 3-5 minutes). Beat in the squash and fats. Whisk together the dry ingredients in a separate bowl, and then beat them into the wet. 

Pour the batter into a greased 8×8 pan (or similar). While this would make a good loaf cake, don’t. A sheet pan creates the ideal crumb to cake ratio.

Sprinkle the streusel (recipe follows) over the cake. Bake at 350°F/180°C for about 45 minutes.

Cool for 10-15 minutes and then drizzle with the glaze (again, recipe follows).

for the streusel:
100 grams (½ cup) brown sugar
64 grams (½ cup) flour
1 teaspoon spice blend
Pinch of salt
56 grams (¼ cup) butter

Mix together with your fingers. 

for the glaze:
75 grams (¾ cup) confectioners’ sugar, sifted
¾ teaspoon spice blend
Pinch of salt
3-5 teaspoons milk, to thin

Whisk well.

This same time, years previous: Spanish poblano casserole, simplest sourdough bagels, my travails as a self-procalimed kid environmentalist: an essay, the quotidian (10.14.19), a weekend away, soiree!, peanut butter fudge, a list, home, three vignettes: my husband.

Quotidian: daily, usual or customary;
everyday; ordinary; commonplace

Proofed in a loaf pan; baked on a stone.

Fermented: ginger cabbage sauerkraut.

Shroom fries.

Striated.

For the men hand-digging the internet cable: cheesecake and coffee.

Imogene and Gladys have returned home!

Warning: if you request all the bones you will be making broth for weeks on end.

Beef broth and apple pie.

Milk, three ways.

Besties.

Day sky blues.

Night sky blues.

Waiting for the kids to join.

This same time, years previous: the patio, this guy, gingerbread to build with, after two years, show and tell, the quotidian (10.12.20), the relief sale doughnuts of 2019, English muffins, the relief sale doughnuts of 2017, the boarder, home, roasted red pepper soup, for my soul, what we came up with.