Photo: NYC ©Anja Riebensahm, 2016
Have a wonderful long weekend, friends! Here is a bit of reading material for your Sunday.
There’s a thing that came out of Kentucky, that’s called a jam cake. It’s a simple concept: add a generous amount of jam to a basic spice cake batter. Traditionally it’s a red jam, which gives the finished cake a pretty pink or purple tint, and the whole thing usually gets frosted with a thick, caramel icing. I couldn’t find any more information about its origin, but i suspect it has to do with an abundance of jam after a hot summer. It’s a completely delicious thing.
This week I came across one such recipe when I was looking for something to bake for a breakfast outing in the park, but it seemed like just a little too much Southern decadence. Which is how I ended up with this bastardized, slightly more austere, perhaps even justifiable as a morning meal, but still very addictive version. Orange marmalade replaces jam, brown butter enhances the spices, burnt caramel glaze stands in for voluptuous frosting. Most importantly, it goes extremely well with tea, at any time of day, and therefore it’s a winner.
For someone who loves food as much as I do, I regularly seem to be oblivious about things that everyone else has known about forever. It was a glorious epiphany to me last week when I discovered the existence of seedless thomcord grapes. For years, I have made this cake once, and only once, during each concord grape season, because the tedium of having to seed the grapes takes at least 364 days to forget about, before it can be blissfully attempted again.
No more. The thomcords are mellower than the non-hybrids, but the distinctive concord flavor is there, which makes this cake so unique and part of what August in Brooklyn tastes like. The orange and the bourbon don’t stand out on their own, but rather support the grapiness with their hints of oak and sweet fruit.
Since hazelnuts are not a big part of American baking, and the concords are almost impossible to find in other parts of the world, the cake itself is a hybrid of sorts. If, like some of my New York friends, you just don’t love the idea of that many filberts, I’m sure most other nuts would be a happy substitute.
Photo: Williamsburg, Brooklyn ©Anja Riebensahm, 2016
Happy weekend. If you’re in New York, stay cool! We’re planning on hiding at the museum all day. Here are a few fun links from around the web:
Frosé. A questionable name for a questionable beverage, that has been popping up everywhere lately. As someone who lives with the consummate oenophile, frozen wine is something I normally wouldn’t dare to whisper, much less write about, and the un-fun portmanteau title doesn’t help. But sometimes a notorious drinking light-weight like me needs something that won’t knock her off her feet, and I’m somewhat reluctant to admit that this slushy pink beverage has absolutely hit the spot lately. It’s cold, it’s refreshing, not too sweet, and still the tiniest (!) bit adult.
Freeze watermelon. Place it in a blender with an equal amount of cold rosé. Process. Drink. Repeat.
And if anyone can come up for a sexier name for it, please share.
Photo: B32 ©Anja Riebensahm, 2016
Happy weekend! Here are a few fun links, if you feel like reading…
Wouldn’t it be fun to go on a tour of the greatest bookstores in the world? (Thanks for the link, Gill)
Finding the best of anything in New York seems silly and futile, what with everything changing constantly. That said, Grub Street’s lists of favorites are a great way to start exploring the offerings of the city.
There are very few supermarket desserts from my childhood that I still fantasize about eating, but those little cream topped puddings in plastic cups somehow continue to hold tremendous appeal. I don’t buy them because doing so would no doubt lead me down a slippery slope of dessert for breakfast, mid-morning naps, afternoon cocktails and other potential death traps of a freelancer’s life. Making said puddings at home on the the other hand, seems domestically goddess-like, and while incredibly simple, the recipe requires just enough effort to prohibit overconsumption.
Photo: Summer Fog in Prospect Park ©Anja Riebensahm, 2016
It’s a hot one out there in NYC today! What are you doing to stay cool? We’re going to the movies (Tarzan or Ghostbusters), then meeting friends for dinner. Here’s a little reading material for you, in case you’re inside…
What’s the first thing you do when you come back from a week of scuba diving, with a bag full of salty, sandy clothes, an almost empty fridge, and several illustration projects that need to get done? Ever the brilliant strategist, I started baking. The first cake of the day came out funny (due to the arguably adventurous but ultimately ill-advised addition of juniper berry dust), so then I baked some more. In consequence, instead of dinner there’s cake and a pile of shirts to be folded. We’re taking this whole re-entry into real life nice and slowly.
Happily, now that I’ve gotten the weird experiments out of the way for you, this cake is the easiest thing you could possibly make. One bowl. 5 minutes. Wait for it to bake. Summer dessert is done. If you’re feeling ambitious you could top it with ice cream or yoghurt, but it doesn’t need it.