Little People and Sweet Things

During my run tonight, a surprising number of kids was milling about in the dark. There were groups of them, and they weren’t quietly rushing home either. There was giggling, there were games of tag. And then my musings about how kids’ bed times must be changing were interrupted by the little tykes singing. Singing, with paper lanterns dangling from their arms.

And it dawned on me: it is St Maarten today. A day for kids to carry flammable paper lights and demand candy from strangers in the night. As an adult you are supposed to be prepared for being of those strangers and have plenty of sugary treats on hand. I, of course, have no regular dealings with little people, was oblivious to St Maarten up until that point and was woefully unprepared for pushing sweets. So I did the mature thing and snuck past the kids on tiptoe, willing them not to notice me.

It worked, I sprinted up the four flights of stairs to my house and had just closed my front door with a relieved sigh when the bell rang. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and unannounced visits rarely happen to me. I gingerly picked up the intercom receiver and heard tiny voices screeching about cows with tails and girls in skirts. Crap! Oh, how I wished I had some of the goodies up there to share.

But, alas, that gorgeous collection of sweet things was made weeks before by Manon and me to celebrate her 30th birthday. It was good indeed, and there were plenty of left-overs, but they were nothing but a memory now. Which is where my shoe box apartment showed its useful side- being on the top floor, there is no way for small ones to peep inside and mock me for not opening the door. So I quietly put the receiver down, closed the curtains more tightly and thanked Amsterdam’s crazy house prices for making sure I could not buy anything closer to the ground floor.

Honestly, I don’t know how excited the kids would have been about the stuff in the picture. I would definitely grin a very happy grin if offered any of those treats and might have let out a little squeal of delight when I saw them all together. But kids? I am guessing there just aren’t enough snazzy wrappers or brighter-than-life colorings to keep m happy. If, however, you are over the age of ten and are looking for a sweet spot in your day, I urge you to make something you see here. It was all seriously good.

From the simply chic apple tart to the surprising orange brownies and from the luscious cheese cake to the snappy ginger cookies, you can’t really go wrong. If you will allow me a small suggestion, though, I think you should start with the scones. They are easy-easy and surprisingly wonderful. Tender and crumbly, with a faintly sweet crumb, they are a great vehicle for lots of cream and raspberry jam.

All recipes are on this website (in Dutch only).

Ginger snaps

Cranberry cheesecake

Scones

Nutty orange brownies

Apple tart

White chocolate muffins with raspberries

Chocolate Cloud Cake

The first thing my brother said when he stepped into my house for dinner the other week was “Hey, a collapsed cake”. The very first- no “hello, how are ya”, no “good to see you”, just the observation. He’s such a charmer, that one.

It’s not really his fault: Nigella Lawson’s Chocolate Cloud Cake is an attention grabber. Fresh out of the oven it looks like a regular chocolate cake. It is a bit cracked on top, but nothing out of the ordinary. As time passes, however, the crack spreads and deepens, eventually taking with it the entire top of the cake as it sinks several centimeters. The outer edge of the cake is left standing, so what you end up with is a bowl made out of chocolate cake.

A lesser person might have been disappointed if they had created a cake that sinks, every single time. Not Nigella. Instead, she filled it with softly whipped cream and called it a chocolate cloud cake. Genius, I say.

I am sure you will agree with me she’s a genius after you make this. The cake has an intense chocolate flavor but isn’t dense or heavy like many of its siblings. The whipped cream topping (spiked with a bit of yogurt in my version in a feeble nod to my arterial health) is a perfect complement, saving you from chocolate overdose so you can keep eating. Because you will want to keep eating- it is that good.

As if that weren’t enough, this cake is astoundingly easy to make too. The only possibly intimidating step, the whipping of egg whites (or is it just me who lives in fear of non-stiffening whites?) is made foolproof by the admonition to whip them until they hold their shape but are not stiff. Ha! Whipped whites that don’t require that test where you hold a bowl of eggy peaks over your head to test their stiffness. Or are you not supposed to take that seriously?

Left-overs of this beauty keep pretty well in the fridge. They lose their ethereal lightness, but gain a pleasant fudginess. Probably not a great dessert for a dinner party, but excellent as a tea-time treat or breakfast. (Not that I eat chocolate cake for breakfast, of course. I am just guessing. Or not…)

Chocolate cloud cake

Adapted slightly from Nigella Bites, Nigella Lawson

Serves 8-10

250 gr dark chocolate
125 gr unsalted butter, softened and cut into cubes
6 eggs: 2 whole, 4 separated
175 gr caster sugar
23 cm springform cake tin
250 ml whipped cream
150 ml Greek yogurt

Preheat the oven to 180°C and line the bottom of the cake tin with baking parchment (I use re-usable silicone baking paper).

Melt the chocolate in the microwave (start with two minutes at 600 W, stir, leave to stand for a bit, stir again and see if it needs another microwave blast). Mix in the butter until melted.

Beat the 2 whole eggs and 4 egg yolks with 75 gr of the caster sugar, then gently add the chocolate mixture.

In another bowl, whisk the 4 egg whites until foamy, then gradually add the 100 gr of sugar and whisk until the whites hold their shape but are not too stiff.

Mix a dollop of egg whites into the chocolate, and then fold in the rest of the whites. Pour into the prepared tin and bake for 35–40 minutes or until the cake is risen and cracked and the centre is no longer wobbly. Cool the cake in its tin on a wire rack.

When you are ready to eat, place the cake on a cake stand or plate for serving while it is still in its tin and carefully remove the tin. Mix the whipped cream with the yogurt and whip some more until the mixture is firm.

Fill the crater of the cake with the yogurty whipped cream, gently swirling your spoon or spatula to create alluring waves

Really Useful Cake (Yogurt Cake)

I’ve been wondering: Are there other people out there who eat maple syrup straight from a spoon? Who get overly excited when a recipe mentions maple syrup? And who might even –gasp- like its flavor better than chocolate? Those people should bake this cake by Clotilde at ChocolateandZucchini, cut a thick slice and eat it drenched in maple syrup.

That’s what I did last weekend, and thinking about it still puts a smile on my face. I used Greek-style yogurt (a staple in my fridge) and had to bake the cake for quite a bit longer than the recipe, but other than that? It was perfect. (Well, one thing. There was a slightly funny smell, which I associate with recipes that have a lot of baking soda in otherwise mildly flavored baked goods. Does this happen to anyone else?) It is gently sweet, not greasy at all and the crumb has a pleasant density you can sink your teeth into. Add a glug of maple syrup and you have the perfect tea-time treat.

Even if you’re not into maple syrup, this is a good cake to have up your sleeve. It will go down well with the butter fearing crowd, for instance. Not a smidge of the yellow stuff in sight. And it has yogurt. Now, what is more healthy than yogurt? Perhaps best not to tell them about the oil, though.

Also, I bet this cake would be fantastic slathered in whipped cream and sprinkled with M&M’s. And if you need even more encouragement than all this (really? maple syrup, healthy, whipped cream… none of these do it for you?), there’s one more thing: this is fantastically easy to make. So hop to it, you have a cake to make.

Sunday Apple Pie

What do you do on a rainy Sunday, when going outside is about as attractive as filling in the tax forms?

Why, you bake apple pie, of course. And that's just what I did yesterday (tax forms aren't due until April 1 anyway).

I started with Martha Stewart's pate brisee for the crust (but using my hands instead of a food processor, because my limited cupboard space will not stretch to holding big machines) and a pink cake pan.

Then I blind-baked it with chickpeas...


... filled the (dramatically shrunken) crust with grated apple filling...


And thirty-three minutes later (and a great cinnamon scent for my house) later, I had apple pie.

Not the best (or prettiest) apple pie ever, but mighty tasty as dessert after Deb's wonderful, luscious mushroom bourguignon.

Grated Apple Pie

Adapted from Marie Claire De Ultieme Keuken by Michele Cranston

Makes 1 pie

1 pie crust (try this one, it looks good), pre-baked
2 large, slightly tart apples, grated coarsely
juice and zest from half a juicy lemon
1 tsp of cinnamon
pinch of grated all spice
100 gr of butter
115 gr of sugar (vanilla sugar is good)
2 eggs

Pre-heat oven to 180 degrees Celsius.

Melt the butter with the sugar in a thick-bottomed pan, until the sugar has dissolved and the caramel is a light golden color. Leave to cool for a few minutes. Meanwhile, mix the apple with the lemon juice and zest, cinnamon and allspice. Add the caramel to the apple and mix thoroughly. Add the eggs and mix.

Pour the apple mix in the pre-baked crust and bake for thirty minutes or until filling has almost completely set. Leave to cool to room temperature before serving.

Apple cake: Weird but Wonderful

Note to self: even a weird recipe can yield something mighty tasty. I wanted to bake for a birthday party and was planning on making chocolate cupcakes. However, I’d forgotten to buy chocolate (or, to be more precise, I’d eaten the chocolate I’d bought for baking and didn’t buy new- details, schmetails) and it was so cold outside that a trip to the store was not an option. So I collected the bakeables I did have and figured out I had just about enough for Sarah Raven’s Kentish Apple Cake. (Yes, another Sarah Raven recipe. I tried to stay away, but the siren-call was too strong.)

Sure, the recipe looked a bit weird, what with not creaming the butter and adding the fruit before the eggs. And sure, it did end up giving me a sore arm because the final product is more like sticky clay than like cake batter. But who cares when you end up with a cake that is crispy on the outside, moist on the inside and studded with bits of apple and raisin? I think it almost made the merrymakers forget all about the leather-like meat I served them as a main course, weird recipe or no.

Kentish Apple Cake

Adapted from Sarah Raven’s Kitchen Cookbook

Serves 8-10

225 gr unsalted butter (cold), plus a little for the tin
350 gr self-raising flour
1 tsp ground cinnamon
pinch of salt
110 gr of sultanas or raisins, soaked for an hour or two in water or fruit juice
175 gr caster sugar
75 gr toasted hazelnuts, roughly chopped or halved (optional)
450 gr cooking apples, peeled, cored and chopped roughly
grated zest of 1 lemon
3 large eggs

Preheat oven to 180 C. Grease or line a 20cm loose-bottomed cake tin.

Sift flour into large bowl, add cinnamon and salt and mix. Cube butter and add to flour. Use cold fingers to crumble butter and mix with flour until it looks like bread crumbs. Stir in the sultanas, sugar and nuts. Add apple and lemon zest and mix. Lightly beat the eggs and stir them in.

Spoon the mixture into the tin and bake for about an hour or until firm to the touch. Let cool before removing from tin.