Battenberg or How I Came to Make Marzipan

YUM. And so pretty, am I right?

Took the month of June off from the Daring Bakers, mostly because I was too busy to bother, and when I logged in last week and saw what I missed, I knew I had to immediately correct my course.

Back. On. Course.

Blog checking lines: Mandy of What The Fruitcake?! came to our rescue last minute to present us with the Battenberg Cake challenge!  She highlighted Mary Berry’s techniques and recipes to allow us to create this unique little cake with ease.

marzipan ball. see the white stuff? that's powdered sugar!

Mostly because this recipe allowed me to make my own marzipan. (You can too! Click here.)

I thought--gee, you can make that? And then immediately felt stupid because, yes, you can make almost all the things you can also buy prepared. Some--like butter--are probably more work than they're worth. Marzipan? I was willing to find out.

marzipan: rolled out and ready

It's worth it, folks. At least, if you're me, and you have half a bag of almond flour sitting around the house left over from this delicious dare, and you gaze longingly at the marzipan in the baking isle every time you're at the grocery store but refuse to drop $8 to buy it.

A little bain-marie, a little whisking, and you've got marzipan! (And the dogs each get an egg yolk. Dog score!)

I also must admit, my favorite part of this process was the kneading-it-like-bread-dough process, for which you use POWDERED SUGAR instead of flour! How great is that!?!? You can actually lick your hands clean when you're done.

But back to the challenge: the Battenberg. A cake with a checked pattern, for which there are special pans you can buy that feature four segments. For the purposes of this challenge, I did not buy a new special pan. Instead I ghetto-rigged a non special pan with tin foil, like so:

Tin foil. Not just for leftovers.

The first Battenberg cake was made to celebrate the marriage of Queen Victoria's granddaughter, Princess Victoria, to her Prince Louis of Battenburg. The checkered yellow and pink squares symbolize the four princes of Battenberg. How quaint, yes?

ready for the oven. sorry for the blur.

The cake is flavored with almond, which is to say, it has ground up almonds in it, which makes the cake quite toothsome and delicious. It's a simple sponge cake that's assembled and glued together using apricot jam and then the whole thing is covered in marzipan--more almonds. 

Out of the oven. Brown and smelling amazing.

For those of you following along at home, you know that almonds are my favorite of all the baking nuts and flavors. 

Trimming. See the edges in the background? You get to eat these as you go!

YUM. 

freshly rolled in marzipan

I will admit that I didn't do the best job of trimming and lining everything up. My top left pink strip was horribly thin on one end, but after trimming awhile, I just didn't want my little cake to get any littler. 

criss-crossy lines added per instructions

Also, the marzipan wasn't as sticky as I wanted it to be when assembling. Maybe I should have used more apricot jam. Maybe I should have made my marzipan oilier--which is to say, used more egg white.

The middle was more straight than the ends.

Also, when I look at everyone else's Battenbergs, it appears I was supposed to cut off all the brown edges from the tops and bottoms of the sponge as well, so as not to conflict with the pale yellow and pink of the pattern. But hey, if I had done that, the cake would be so tiny it would have been sad

No matter. The cake was incredible. The sponge, as I mentioned before, is quite toothsome and it stands up beautifully to the marzipan. The whole thing is made even more elegant by the thin strips of jelly between everything, soft and sweet.  So. Good.

There's rice in my bread

And it's delicious. (<----the link for the recipe is there.)

This month's daring bakers challenge was to make Dutch Crunch Bread...which is to say, make some bread and add a yeasted, rice-flour based topping to the bread that rises and cooks into a crunchy topping worthy of your tongue's time. In Dutch it's called Tigjerbrood, or "tiger bread" after the tiger-like shell on the bread after baking. It's apparently often used in sandwich rolls, and I do recommend you try making it.

Blog checking lines: Sara and Erica of Baking JDs were our March 2012 Daring Baker hostesses! Sara & Erica challenged us to make Dutch Crunch bread, a delicious sandwich bread with a unique, crunchy topping. Sara and Erica also challenged us to create a one of a kind sandwich with our bread!*

see the rice? awesome.

In the meantime, I noticed that besides the soft white sandwhich roll-type bread recipe offered by the challenge, there was also a recipe that had...cooked brown rice IN the bread. Awesome, says me, I have some cooked brown rice IN my fridge. It's fate.

The bread was divine to knead. Have you ever kneaded bread dough with rice in it? It's luxiourious. All pebbly and soft in your fingers. Do it. Trust me.

So, you mix and knead, and rise and then lop the dough in half and put it into two bread loaf pans. Check, check, and check.

Let the loaf pan penned dough rise again. Check.

this is the topping, already rising in the orange bowl.

Then you mix up the tiger topping. Check.

oh. crap.

Then you put the tiger topping on top of the loaves and let IT rise. 

Oh. 

Crap. 

This is exactly the point at which you think...hmmm...that's not going to work. 

So you re-check the recipe and see that the baking lawyers have 9x5 inch loaf pans and you...don't.

It's cool. I wanted to clean up this frothy science experiment mess.

It's cool. I mean, you're sweating, not only from the heat in the kitchen but from the thought of all that mess and crazy in your oven.

Deep breath.

Put some foil on a cooking sheet and put the sheet below the loaf pans.

It's going to be okay.  Crazy, but totally okay.

Crunch crunch crunch went the tiger...

The bread came out crunchy. A little overflowing with crunch.

 overflowing with crunchy goodness! 

But it was sweet and had a lovely crumb underneath all that crunch.

bread.

It was especially good toasted. With butter.

nubbly rice texture. yum.

* Yeah, I didn't make a sandwich with mine. I didn't even notice that I was supposed to until I read those lines while posting this. The bread is long gone, folks, and there were no sandwiches. Daring Baker Fail.

Quick...bread

Blurry banana bread. Because we loves us some alliteration.

Not feeling super inspired this month by the Daring Bakers. This month's challenge was/is quick breads, which for me are something that I've been making for decades. Not much of a challenge.

The Daring Bakers’ February 2012 host was – Lis! Lisa stepped in last minute and challenged us to create a quick bread we could call our own. She supplied us with a base recipe and shared some recipes she loves from various websites and encouraged us to build upon them and create new flavor profiles.

For those not in the know: quick breads are all the breads that don't have yeast in them, i.e. much more "quick" to make. This includes pound cake, scones, coffee cake, biscuits, and most of those loaf breads that you can buy at the coffee shop (banana, zucchini, pumpkin, etc.).

Banana bread is not my favorite. But if you add chocolate chips, I'm in.

I will tell you two things:

Thing one

I made a banana bread with chocolate chips for the Superbowl party I was attending. I used the Moosewood cookbook recipe, which includes things like coffee and lemon rind and almond extract and is disarmingly delicious. But you should probably go buy the cookbook instead of me plagiarizing it.

A. Maze. Ing. Grapefruit Pound Cake

Thing two

I used some of that candied grapefruit peel and added it to a loaf of grapefruit pound cake (which I adapted from all the lemon pound cake recipes I could find)...and it was amazing. A. Maze. Ing.  Now you can too:


Super A. Maze. Ing Grapefruit Pound Cake (makes one loaf)

1/2 cup butter, softened
1.5 cups sugar
3 eggs
3 tablespoons grapefruit juice
1/2 tsp. lemon extract
1 teaspoon grated grapefruit peel
1.5 cups flour
1/4 tsp. baking soda
pinch salt
heaping 1/2 cup yogurt (plain or vanilla. You can use sour cream too.)
Handfuls of candied grapefruit rinds, chopped into little nuggets

1. Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in juice, extract, and peel.

2. Combine dry ingredients; add to the butter mixture alternately with yogurt. Beat until just combined. Stir in candied grapefruit rind.

3. Pour into a greased and floured bread pan. Bake at 350 for 55-60 minutes (or 90 minutes if you have my oven) or until a toothpick/skewer inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool for 10 minutes before popping out of the pan.

You say biscuits. I say scones. Or vise versa.

This month we made scones. Or biscuits*. Or something resembling them.

It was back to basics time.

This month was all about experimentation, and learning about the chemistry and science of baking. Fat plus flour plus kneeding or folding equals light and fluffy or soft and gooey or layered and flaky.

Or something.

Blog-checking lines: Audax Artifex was our January 2012 Daring Bakers’ host. Aud worked tirelessly to master light and fluffy scones (a/k/a biscuits) to help us create delicious and perfect batches in our own kitchens!

folded.

Which is to say, were it a different month, I might have made four or five batches of biscuits/scones (especially because this recipe is tiny tiny so you can make them for two people and eat them ALL for breakfast/dinner and not worry about it one bit) but this month got away from me and it never happened.

Alas, I only made one set, but I will make more in the future.

ready for the oven.

This is one of those recipes that is so easy it's hard. For example, there are just five ingredients, so there's no place to hide old baking soda or non-sifted flour. In fact, for these scones I actually triple-sifted the flour. Triple. Sifted. (And I guess you should too.)

And! The sifting occurred from a great height, so as to incorporate as much air into the flour as possible. (And, by the way, to create as big of a mess as possible.)

After triple sifting, you get to rub in the fat with your fingers. I am all for any recipe where I get to use my hands. I love the feel of the flour and the butter and the goodness all in between my fingers. Oh yes I do.

Also, this recipe suggests grating the butter and then freezing it for a bit before incorporation. (I might need to admit that grating butter was also one of the most fun things I've done in the kitchen in a long time.)

breakfast accompaniment, but sweet. in this way I am honoring both America and Australia*.

The recipe becomes a choose-your-own-adventure-experience at this point, when you get to decide if you're going to knead or fold the dough.  Kneading makes soft lovely scones and folding makes flaky layered scones. Either way, the dough is sticky and it makes you worry.  (I folded.)

Don't worry. It will work out.

Cut your scones using a floured cutter that is open on top and round and thin-walled and blah blah blah you're going to end up just using a butter knife and cutting them apart because you have nothing resembling a biscuit cutter in your house and the description in the recipe makes you nervous.

Note: I need a biscuit cutter. Apparently the method of using an over-turned drinking glass just isn't going to cut it any more (pun definitely intended). 

layers? almost.

Results were mixed. Joe thought they were divine and I thought they needed work. Sounds about right, doesn't it?

Next up: I'm going to make something that our host Audax calls a "fairy ring" in which he adds sprinkles (which Australians call "hundreds and thousands") to the dough and then ices and adds more sprinkles once baked. Anything with sprinkles is good by me.

Really. Anything.

* Apparently, in Australia these are called scones. They are usually cut out but then put on the baking sheet so that the sides touch and everything stays soft. They are eaten with jam over tea. They are not the North American scones (which are wedge-shaped and lumpy and fruity and dry and wonderful) but rather what are called baking soda biscuits in the States, which Americans eat with butter and turkey for dinner as a savory side. (Which, by the way, Australians would call "savoury.")

Also, one should note that buttermilk biscuits (to Americans) would be called buttermilk scones to Australians, and would still be eaten as a sweet, not with chicken-fried-chicken. These are American, according to our Australian host. And so, I thank you, Southern America, for buttermilk and the biscuits that come from them. But I didn't make those this time, because it seemed beside the point.

Sans Rival...with chocolate and pecans

yum.

In a fit of Christmas spirit, between doses of Percocet, advil, aspirin, and massive amounts of coffee, I made another Sans Rival, this time with a chocolate walnut daquoise and chocolate buttercream frosting.

Which is to say two things:

Thing one

I returned from Saint Pete's (the Burg), Florida, only to wake up the following night with a throbbing wise tooth. A throbbing like no other pain. The kind of throbbing that makes you want to bash the side of your face with a brick. If you could just find a brick. Or maybe (you start to think as you're laying in the fetal position on the couch softly moaning, tears streaming down your face) you could bash your face into the corner of the back of a kitchen chair.  Or the side of the table. Anything with an edge...

I spent the mid-night hours googling emergency dentists on my phone. I called one the second it opened, roused my husband for a ride, and promptly had a tooth pulled.

adding cocoa to the daquoise--makes it comes out all chocolatey and amazing

The tooth pulled? A wisdom tooth I had an agreement with for the past ten years (this is the same agreement I have with all insects/spiders in my house)--you don't bother me, I won't bother you.   

Well tooth: Agreement broken. Time to go.

An aside: Did you know that they don't anesthetize you when they pull out a tooth? Don't get me wrong, the doctor (who was twelve, I swear, and also wearing a holiday tie but not a white coat) stuck me with four shots of the most heavenly Novocain I've ever been alive to experience. However, I was fully awake for the pulling procedure, telling myself that it was all normal and good. (It wasn't, but I didn't care anymore. I was just so excited to be numb.)

the makings of buttercream. sugar boiled with water until it reaches thread stage

I saw the pliers and the tool that looked a lot like a screwdriver with which the twelve-year-old dentist (the end of his holiday tie now contained inside an opening made by unbuttoning the center button of his shirt) used as if prying off the lid on a paint can--all simple machine lever-like to pry out my tooth. Then I closed my eyes. I decided that I just didn't need to see the blood and any more creepy metal tools.

Also, at this point I was in supreme denial. Sure that after the initial recovery time, my life would be so much better. No more fetal position for at least a few more months.

Meanwhile, behind my closed eyes, it was clear that said tooth wasn't coming like it was supposed to. No matter. More levering, more pulling, more prying. It came out all blood and spit and Twelve Year Old Holiday Tie said, "AH HAH, the root is hooked!"

I love that you can whip egg yolks until they bubble and froth. who knew?

I asked to see said tooth and hook. And he was right. The tooth was hooked like a...well...fishing hook. Apparently it had come in as far as said hook would allow, and instead of coming up like the well-behaved tooth I had expected it to be--straight and even, like a well starched shirt--it was skirting sideways across my face like the Hook of Darkness, pulling my gums with it. Or so it felt.

Long story boring: I went home, took a bunch of Percocet, and a few naps. Holiday Tie had given me a double-sided mimeographed (copy of a copy of a copy) of emergency impaction tooth extraction aftercare which I followed to. the. letter.

(I'm good at directions.)

assembled. still ugly. also, it turned out to be the leaning tower of sans rival. no matter.

No matter. Two days later I was back in the fetal position, the Percocet not even beginning to touch the pain in my tooth hole. I called Holiday Tie to say...I think I have a dry socket.  His secretary got me right in.

Yay! I was right. Dry Socket.

I complained to Holiday Tie (no longer in said tie, and strangely now wearing a white coat). I followed your directions.

Yes, he said. But you're a young woman.

True, I said. (Waiting for it to become more obvious what was going on in our tete-a-tete. It didn't. I was forced to force the issue.)

What does that have to do with this? I asked.

Young women have hormones that don't allow a blood clot to stick around very often, he explained.

Super, I said. One more reason it's AWESOME to be a woman. I'm going to add that to my EVER-GROWING list.

There's a lot more drama in this story, but I'm getting exhausted telling it and reliving the jaw-aching, pain shooting down the side of my neck and into my arm experience. So I'll shorthand it for you like this: it's been over four weeks. I still have jaw/hole pain when I eat or breathe. I also get food stuck in said hole every time I eat, which makes everything hurt more. (YUM!)

So, when Holiday Tie told me that I was eventually going to have to get my three remaining wise teeth extracted, I wanted to slap his twelve-year-old face.

aerial view

Thing two
My dear friend Miss C held a small holiday gathering at her home. I asked (like the fabulous guest that I am) what I could bring. She answered, and I quote: "If you feel up to it I always welcome one of your desserts but no pressure."

Guess what I made?

Also, just for the record, it was delicious.

Butter. Cream.

You're probably getting tired of me telling you that every thing I make with the daring bakers was better than the last thing.  But, I'm sorry, it's just true.

Blog-checking lines: Catherine of Munchie Musings was our November Daring Bakers’ host and she challenged us to make a traditional Filipino dessert – the delicious Sans Rival cake! And for those of us who wanted to try an additional Filipino dessert, Catherine also gave us a bonus recipe for Bibingka which comes from her friend Jun of Jun-blog.

the almond dacquoise all ready to go

Take for example this month's challenge: the Sans Rival. Apparently this is a Filipino dessert, and to the Philippines, I say thank you.  (And a big thank you to the Filipinos who studied abroad in France, where they learned to make this cake.)

Also, I should note that this dessert is traditionally made (by Filipinos) with cashews, but I don't love a cashew, so I used almonds and flavored my buttercream with almond extract too. (You can never have too much almond.) (Turns out, many people make this dessert with almonds. So I was right on.)

the first layer of dacquoise all baked and ready to be enrobed in butter. cream.

For the first time, I got to make dacquoise and the most ridiculous buttercream frosting ever. Dacquoise is whipped egg whites with nuts, which you bake into four crunchy layers, and the butter cream is...well...butter that is creamed with egg yolks and hot melted sugar.  Fair enough?

The best part? (Well, besides the butter cream and the almond dacquoise, of course.)

The whole thing is gluten free!  And not just the "let's use a medley of weird flours instead of wheat flour to make a cake that our gluten-free friends can eat" but just naturally gluten-free!

This turned out to be the best challenge of all for Thanksgiving week, since my Thanksgiving family is gluten-free. (But, thankfully, not butter-free.)  This meant I got to bring dessert, which I usually leave to my more-experienced gluten-free bakers in the group.  And bringing dessert is what this girl is all about.

So!

frosted and stacked. not that pretty yet.

I had one minor screw up with this recipe, and it goes like this: the cake has four layers. (4!) I only have two round cake pans. No worries, the recipe says, just make sure the pans are re-buttered and floured and not too hot when you make the second round of cake layers.

done!

Except.

When I went to pour my batter into the second round of cake pans, my stiffed-peaked whipped goodness was a soggy mess.

Stupidly (I soon learned), I put the mixer back to work on it to fluff it up some more. (This sort of works with whipped cream, but apparently NOT with dacquoise. The more I mixed, the soupier it got. Soon, I had a watery, almond-y, mess.)

Long story short: I had to send Joe out for more eggs and more almonds (On Thanksgiving morning, no less). And I had to make a half recipe of the cake to get two more layers.

an inside look at the layers

Also, the buttercream recipe makes just enough to frost this puppy. It's really okay, because you don't need any more than provided, but you have to use it sparingly between the layers. Trust me, it will all work out if you keep a clear head (and your husband's fingers out of the bowl).

Lastly, after you assemble this puppy, put her in the refrigerator. She'll cut a lot easier when she's cold.

All this to say: oh my. This is an amazing cake. The dacquoise has a bit of crunch but, after sitting in the frosting for some time, it ends up a bit noughat-y. And soft and wonderful. But mostly you're so busy enjoying the butter cream that you don't even care what it's wrapped around.

The cake making might be a bit finicky, and it uses 10 eggs (15 if you screw it up like I did) but SO SO SO good. It's worth it.

Povitica

What is there to say about beautifully filled and rolled bread that hasn't already been said?

Shall I wax poetic about the gorgeously thin, almost transparent lofty layers of bread, enrobed in sweet walnut paste?

Shall I go on and on about the delicate crumb or the toothsome texture?

Shall I admire its ability to both satiate and provide warm-your-soul comfort with just one bite?

Or shall I just leave it at: this is delicous.

De. Lish. Us.  (<---click there for the recipe)

Blog-checking lines: The Daring Baker’s October 2011 challenge was Povitica, hosted by Jenni of The Gingered Whisk. Povitica is a traditional Eastern European Dessert Bread that is as lovely to look at as it is to eat!

all rolled out on...yes...my bed sheet.

De. Lish. Us.

delicious filling.

rolled up! look how long it is!

two tubes of goodness nestled in their loaf pans

Full disclosure: this recipe makes four loaves. Four. You'll say to yourself, "Self, there's no way my partner and I can (or should) eat four loaves. I'll make a half-recipe."

And then, dear reader, you'll take one loaf to a party, and keep one for yourself, and that one lonely loaf will be gone and while you're still licking the sticky filling off your fingertips you'll be saying to yourself, "Dang it, Self. You should have made all four."

Because we all know, dear readers, bread is like lasagna. Just as easy to make more as it is to make one.

Finished product

Let this be a lesson to you: make. all. four.

Mouth-watering close up

Oh la la! *

And now, in a completely apropos cosmic shuffling, the daring bakers had us bake croissants this month!

Blog checking lines: The Daring Bakers go retro this month! Thanks to one of our very talented non-blogging members, Sarah, the Daring Bakers were challenged to make Croissants using a recipe from the Queen of French Cooking, none other than Julia Child!

ooh! look at those layers!

Here's the thing about croissants, my dear readers: they take, at minimum, two days.  They taste good, and they're not that difficult to make, but MAN, are they fussy.

Brushed with egg white and ready for the oven!

For example, note the steps:

1. mix the dough
2. 3-hour rise
3. fold it like a letter
4. 90 minute rise (or overnight)
5. incorporate the butter, do some clever folding
6. two hour rest in the refrigerator
7. fold some more
8. another two hour refrigeration
9. make into crescents
10. 1-hour rise
11. bake!

Did you see that? That's five rises/rests. FIVE. That's basically a weekend spent timing each hour and never going far from home.

yum please.

But I don't mean to be a complainer. This recipe is totally doable, if you have the time and the patience. It's also delicious.

And one of the only recipes I've made this year with the daring bakers that I didn't have to re-do. First time was a charm. Maybe I'm lucky...or maybe Julia Child is a hero. You be the judge.

*Also, I would like to report that although we in the United States seem to think that the French say "ooh la la," I personally heard at least three French people say "oh la la" while I was there last month. Not oooh, but O. Just thought you might want to know.