• freezer coffee cake

    After I posted about that sour cream coffee cake, one of my readers (Hi, Mommychef!) shared her favorite recipe with me. Her recipe, she said, makes two cakes — one to bake right then, and the other to freeze, unbaked. That way, when a coffee cake hankering strikes, simply pop the frozen cake directly into the hot oven and — ba-bam! — fresh coffee cake.

    I was intrigued. Could I really mix up a batter and freeze it for later? Would the frozen cake rise properly in the oven? And, if it worked to freeze the batter for a coffee cake, then could I freeze other cake batters, too?

    Suddenly, I was struck with a vision of my freezer stuffed full with trays of cake batter-filled cupcake liners, pans of brownie dough, and mini loaves of banana bread, all ready to pop in the oven at a moment’s notice. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

    But I’ve always thought that cakes needed to go directly into the hot oven once the rising agents were activated (i.e., the wet ingredients mixed with the dry) because if not, the cake wouldn’t rise as high. But perhaps that’s a myth? After all I do make certain recipes, like refrigerator bran muffins and buckwheat apple pancakes, in which the dough is fine hanging out in the fridge for days on end. And I already freeze raw cookie dough, scones, and pie pastry, so why not cakes?

    I still don’t know which batters can withstand a period of refrigeration or freezing — there’s probably a scientific formula for this — but I’m happy to report that this frozen coffee cake batter bakes up most marvelously. I can’t even tell the difference between the cakes made from frozen batter and the ones made from fresh batter. It’s magic.

    When I told my mother about this frozen coffee cake thing, she wondered if the cake tins might rust in the freezer. Already I was contemplating the problem of tying up my trusty cake tins for an extended period of time. But then I came up with a solution.

    I line the baking tin with parchment and then, when the cake batter is frozen, I remove it from the tin (the dough is still soft but it holds its shape) and slip it into a plastic bag that’s labeled with the correct pan size. Then when it’s time to bake it, I simply plop the raw cake and its parchment shell, directly into the tin, and into the oven it goes.

    I’ve been making this cake on repeat. I’ve taught my niece how to make it during one of her afternoon baking lessons, I’ve made it for our church’s Easter breads breakfast, and I’ve made it for my family (and watched them devour nearly a whole cake in a single sitting).

    And then we ran out of sour cream.

    But, never fear! This week when I went shopping, I bought a whole giant tub at Costco.

    Another coffee cake is right around the corner….


    Freezer Coffee Cake
    Adapted from reader Mommychef.

    According to the recipe, the coffee cake is supposed to be split between two 9-inch cake pans. My pans, however, have lower sides and they nearly overflow. So maybe aim for two 10-inch pans? Or  one springform pan and one small loaf pan? Each time I make it, I seem to do something different.

    for the streusel: 
    ⅔ cup each brown sugar, white sugar, and flour
    1½ tablespoons cinnamon
    1 stick cold butter, cut into chunks

    Put all the ingredients in a food processor and pulse until it comes together in a glorious crumbly mess.

    for the cake: 
    3½ cups flour
    1 cup brown sugar
    1 cup white sugar
    2 teaspoons baking powder
    1 teaspoon baking soda
    1½ teaspoons cinnamon
    ½ teaspoon salt
    1½ sticks butter, room temperature, cut into chunks
    3 eggs
    1¾ cups sour cream

    Put the dry ingredients — flour, sugars, baking powder and soda, cinnamon, and salt — into the mixing bowl. Beat in the butter, one chunk at a time. The mixture will be crumbly.

    Beat in the eggs, one at a time. Add the sour cream a little at a time. Beat on high speed for a couple minutes, periodically scraping down the sides of the bowl.

    Divide half of the batter between two greased 9-inch pans (see note at the top). Divide half of the crumbs between the two pans. Dollop the rest of the batter over the crumbs and use a knife to spread it smooth. Sprinkle the remaining crumbs over the cakes.

    Bake at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

    To freeze: Line the cake pan(s) with parchment paper. Fill with the batter, according to the directions above. Freeze for one hour until set. Using the parchment paper as handles, lift the frozen raw batter from the pan (it will still be a little soft) and immediately transfer to a ziplock bag. Label (so you know the correct pan to use!) and return to the freezer. To bake, simple remove from freezer, plop into pan (parchment paper and all) and slip directly into a preheated oven. Bake for an extra 5-10 minutes.

    This same time, years previous: PUERTO RICO, the quotidian (5.1.17), the quotidian (5.2.16), carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, depression chocolate mayonnaise cake, baked-in-a-pot artisan bread, take two.

  • the quotidian (4.29.19)

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

    Black lentils, punjabi style.
    For friends who are finally, after five months, home from the hospital with their new baby, yay!

    Sun water.

    Autolyze and be wise.

    Stinky pee  bring it.

    Measure by measure.

    She can get on the trampoline by herself. #notallowed

    The latest kickboxing development: she bought a bag and stuffed it with rubber mulch.

    And hung it up.

    Wham-bam.

    Pets on deck.
    Tornado watch.

    The papa pesterer.

    Event planning.

    A blizzard drive-by: for the man who works so hard.

    (And, of course, for the guy who works with him.)

    Green, green, green, oh glorious green!

    Strawberries soon!

    This same time, years previous: that fuzzy space, an ordinary break, life can turn on a dime, the quotidian (4.27.15), the quotidian (4.28.14), church of the Sunday sofa, better brownies, drama trauma, creamed asparagus on toast.

  • both ends

    The play has thrown a little wrench in my “wake up early to write all morning and then run before lunch” routine. Even though rehearsing three or four evenings a week doesn’t sound — or even feel — very taxing, it does wear on me. It’s such a drag, leaving the house immediately upon waking and then returning from rehearsal and jumping straight into bed. Makes me feel like I’m burning the candle at both ends.

    To make matters worse, the play sometimes infiltrates my dreams, and I spend the night dreaming about packing, hiding, and being chased. They’re not nightmares, exactly, but they are exhausting.

    Since I have no evenings in which to unwind, I often let myself rest in the afternoon. Sometimes I read a novel. Other times I sleep. A couple times I’ve even allowed myself to watch an episode or two of Catastrophe or Schitt’s Creek or Workin’ Moms (though even with all my mad justification skills, I still felt guilty).

    A couple weeks ago I decided something had to give, so I shifted things around, allowing myself to sleep a little later, then running, then writing. I don’t get home from writing until early afternoon now, which makes me feel like I don’t have as much time (because I don’t), but at least the schedule is a little less grueling.

    I recently read Michelle’s book (and then entertained the rest of the family by reading great swaths of it outloud to them at the supper table), and it made me feel like such a wimp. That woman does so much! For example, in the course of single day, Michelle might fly to a speaking engagement for thousands and then back again, work out, cut a ribbon at a local nonprofit, change clothes multiple times, host a tea for a couple hundred high-profile people, and dig in the dirt with a bunch of school kids. I, on the other hand, drink coffee and write, make my kids scrub the toilets, go for leisurely, country-quiet runs, and crash into bed at ten o’clock, exhausted. Reading about her go-go-go life, it made me feel like I could — or maybe should — do more.

    Not that I want to, really. But it would be nice to add in an activity or two (like a play) and not feel so zonked, you know?

    Get your tickets here!

    This same time, years previous: it takes a village, the quotidian (4.17.17), the quotidian (4.18.16), cheesy popcorn, take two: Omri, nutmeg coffee cake, and then he shot me through the heart, ground pork and white bean chili.