• the quotidian (8.26.19)

    Quotidian: daily, usual or customary; 
    everyday; ordinary; commonplace
    Applesauce fruit leather: thanks, blog reader Katie, for the prompt!

    Puerto Rico on my plate.

    Last minute tests: gearing up

    The table around which they grew….

    …soon to be replaced!

    Tips.

    She’s a digger, this one.

    Breaking horses isn’t always a walk in the park.

    Some days….

    This same time, years previous: full circle, it’s what’s for supper, fresh nectarine galette, the quotidian (8.23.16), on love and leftovers, don’t even get me started, he got me, 16, coming up for air, chocolate malted milk frosting.

  • chocolate cake

    The other day I sent a piece of my latest confectionary treat — a chocolate cake with vanilla bean buttercream, both recipes Yolanda’s — over to my parents’ house for them to try, and then yesterday when I popped in for a visit, my mom handed back my now-empty plate.

    “Thanks for the cake,” she said. “But Jennifer, why do you need another chocolate cake? Our regular one is soooo good!”

    So I tried to explain. Our standby cake is good — dare I say fantastic — but this one has something else. A dark richness. A chocolate density. A solidness that helps it hold up against trimming and layering. (Because I’m all about cake sculptures now, apparently.) Mostly, it’s just a very good, very chocolatey cake.

    Seriously? I needed to explain myself? This was chocolate cake. Enough said.

    leftover half of an egg, filled and iced for a potluck picnic

    I’ve made this cake a bunch of times — mostly in the shape of eggs — but now I’m trying basic layered cakes, too.

    The cakes bake up with a nice, rounded dome. When I trim it off — insider’s secret: the top’s the best part, tender and intensely chocolate — we fight over the scraps.

    Yolanda always drenches her cooled cakes with simple syrup, though she doesn’t say why. I figure it’s just to keep them more moist. To me, dumping water on a cake is counterintuitive, so I’ve yet to drench them as thoroughly as she does.

    However, I’ve noticed that the bottom and edges of the cake do seem a little dry, so maybe I ought to hit them extra hard? Next time, maybe.

    Chocolate Cake 
    Adapted from Yolanda of How To Cake It.

    I’ve always iced this cake (I can’t resist an opportunity to make buttercream!), but it’s not necessary. The cake is sturdy and rich — and chocolatey — enough to hold its own.

    Next time I won’t split the layers: the ratio of icing to cake was too high for our tastes.

    2 sticks butter, room temperature
    2 ½ cups sugar
    4 eggs
    2¾ cups flour
    2 teaspoons baking powder
    1½ teaspoon baking soda
    1 teaspoon salt
    1 cup cocoa powder, Dutch processed
    2 cups boiling water
    1-2 cups simple syrup, optional
    favorite icing, optional

    Cream together the butter and sugar. Beat very well. Add the eggs, two at a time, and beat well, scraping down the sides after each addition. Once it’s well-mixed, beat for another 3-5 minutes to get it nice and fluffy.

    Put the cocoa in a separate bowl, add the boiling water and whisk well. Set aside to cool for a bit (about 20 minutes), or slip into the freezer for a bit, stirring every couple minutes. You just want to take a bit of the heat off.

    Measure the remaining dry ingredients into a third bowl.

    Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture alternating with the warm chocolate, starting and ending with the dry.

    Divide the batter between two greased, wax paper-lined cake pans. Bake at 375 degrees for 30-45 minutes. Cool for ten minutes before running a knife around the sides of the pan and inverting the cakes onto a cooling rack.

    Before icing the cakes, drench thoroughly, tops and bottoms, with simple syrup. Yolanda uses Sir Squeeze A Lot. I use a disposable water bottle into the lid of which my younger son poked lots of holes. It’s not fancy but it works.

    This same time, years previous: the quotidian (8.21.17), a new room, sun-dried tomato and basil pesto torte, stewed greens with tomato and chili, grape jelly, two-minute peanut butter chocolate cake.

  • peach fruit leather

    Back when we were in the thick of nectarines, eating them fresh and slicing giant bowlfuls for drying, it occured to me that I should try fruit leather. Because my dehydrator sheets are mesh and the soupy liquid would just drip through, I’d never experimented with leather before. But my new oven, I realized, had a dehydrator setting. Why not give it a go?

    And thus started a whole chain of fruit leather-making experiments…

    Pureed fruit: cooked and fresh, nectarines and peaches.
    Acid: bottled lemon juice and fresh.
    Sweetener: sugar, honey, and/or an over-ripe banana
    Dehydration: in the oven — two parchment-lined pans in the oven, or a whole stack of pans (here’s where I wish I had four or five oven racks) — or in the dehydrator (hello, parchment paper!) 

    Everything worked, but there were subtle differences and our preferences to go with.

    The leather made from pre-cooked fruit took on a glossy, smooth shine, almost like plastic, and had a more muted flavor.

    From nectarines, pre-cooked.

    The fresh peach puree (with lemon, a bit of honey, and one banana per processor blending) resulted in leather flecked with bits of peel, and it had strong peachy flavor.

    From fresh fruit, uncooked.

    The addition of banana (our all-time favorite dried fruit) was a smash-hit, providing subtle banana flavor and a nice chew.

    Leather made in the dehydrator tended to get a little crispy around the edges, even when I took pains to spread it on nice and thick, and then, when I had to dehydrate it extra long (because it was so thick) it got so dark it appeared scorched, even though it wasn’t.

    The crispy bits that wouldn’t roll; we call them “fishfood.”

    Leather made in the oven was much chewier (our preference) and it got done faster.

    I realize fruit leather seems kind of crazy considering the slow cook time and the lightening fast speed with which it disappears. But keep in mind that it takes minimal prep — no need to peel — and since it’s all getting blended up, bruised, squishy-soft fruit is fine. Plus, there’s no nitpicky slicing and laying out of the fruit, and then, at the end, prying the dried fruit from the sheets. Just, blitz, pour, and roll. Easy!

    I keep the fruit leather, rolled and cut into inch-wide(ish) sections, in the freezer for packed lunches and snacks.

    The rule is that no one is allowed to just snack on it willy-nilly — it’s to be saved for packed lunches and necessary snacks, and eaten in moderation please — but I don’t think anyone much listens.

    Peach Fruit Leather 

    I’m eager to experiment with other fruits. Maybe this winter I’ll simmer a pot of rhubarb and then add a bunch of strawberries before blending. Or I might buy a giant Costco bag of frozen mixed berries and give that a whirl. And if I ever get my hands on a case of almost rotten bananas, watch out!

    So my oven isn’t tied up all day, I usually make the fruit leather at bedtime and then let it dehydrate overnight.

    Very ripe peaches, washed, pitted, rough chopped
    1 mushy banana
    1-2 tablespoons lemon juice, either fresh or bottled
    2 tablespoons honey or sugar, optional

    Put all ingredients in a food processor and blend until soupy. It will taste only mildly sweet and fruity, but no worries — the flavor will intensify as it dehydrates. Pour the sauce into a big bowl and blend up more fruit, adding each batch to the bowl as you go, until you have enough sauce to fill your dehydrator trays.

    Ladle the pureed fruit onto parchment-lined dehydrator sheets or large, sided, parchment-lined baking pans. Dehydrate (in the oven, at 150 degrees) until no longer sticky to the touch. (If the edges are done, but the middle is not, use a pizza cutter to remove the parts that are done and then return the unfinished portion to the oven.)

    Roll the leather while it is still warm and then, using a scissors, cut it into desired pieces. Bag and freeze.

    This same time, years previous: a little house tour, the quotidian (8.20.18), the Peru post, miracle cat, the quotidian (8.19.13), the quotidian (8.20.12), this is what crazy looks like, whole wheat buttermilk waffles, Valerie’s salsa.