Trick or Sweet: Candy Corn Upside Down Cake

Recently, I asked my favorite Pineapple Upside-Down Cake recipe a serious question: "What would you like to be for Halloween this year?".

After considering various options, such as Doughnut Upside-Down Cake, Tarte Tatin, and various other options for the inverted dessert, we decided to go with something festive: Candy Corn Upside-Down Cake.

It was simple enough to do: just substitute candy corn for the pineapple requested in the original recipe. But what happened when I baked it up was a surprise: the brown sugar and butter topping fused with the melted candy corn to form some sort of unholy, monstrous Halloween caramel-sugar topping, which dripped back into the cake when inverted. The result? The entire buttery cake tasted like it had been basted in candy corn. And if you're a candy corn lover, that might just be a beautiful thing.

Even Unicorn agrees!

Candy Corn Upside Down Cake

9 servings

• 1/3 cup (about 5 tablespoons) butter, plus 1/2 cup (1 stick) butter, softened and divided
• 2/3 cup (about 6 ounces) packed light brown sugar
• 1 1/2 cups candy corn
• 1 1/2 cups (7 1/2 ounces) all purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup (about 7 ounces) granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 3/4 cup milk (whole or 2 percent)

Procedure

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Place the butter in a 9-inch square baking pan, and set it in the oven until melted (it is fine to do this as the oven preheats). Remove the pan from the oven and gently tilt so that the butter coats the entire bottom of the pan. Sprinkle brown sugar evenly over the butter. Sprinkle candy corn evenly on top.
2. In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt.  
3. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and granulated sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the eggs, mixing until incorporated. Add the flour mixture alternately with the milk, in 2 to 3 additions, pausing to scrape down the sides of the bowl with each addition. Beat on low speed until fully incorporated. Pour the batter into the pan, taking care not to dislodge the carefully planted candy corn.  
4. Set a cookie tray under the cake in the oven, in case the candy bubbles or drips. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out mostly clean, 45 to 50 minutes.  
5. Immediately place a heatproof serving plate upside down over the pan; in one swift, sure motion, flip the plate and pan over so that the cake is now on the plate. Leave the pan in place for several minutes so the gooey mixture can drip down over the cake. After the dripping is done, lift off the pan. Serve still slightly warm. Store, loosely covered, at room temperature.

Sweet Idea: Hummingbird Cake Truffles

Cake Pops and truffles are getting a lot of press these days. And with good reason--they're delicious.

But they don't have to be an all-out production--they can also be a clever and quick way to use up cake scraps. For instance, when I recently made a delicious Hummingbird Cake, I found that I had several cake scraps left from when I leveled the cake layers. Rather than discard them, I did the following, and suggest you do so too, the next time you have some cake scraps:

First, I mashed them up by hand, making them into cakey crumbs. Then, I mixed the crumbs with about a half-cup of the remaining cake frosting (I waited til after frosting the cake to make sure I had extra!). This doesn't have to be a scientific thing--you just need enough frosting so that the mashed cake will stick together and form into balls, but not so much that they turn into gooey, shapeless masses. Some more dense cakes actually don't need frosting at all to be able to shape into balls! You can shape them into balls by hand, or use an ice cream scoop for more free-form truffles.

Next, let the balls freeze for a good 2 hours - this will ensure that when you coat them in chocolate or candy coating, they won't melt, and will retain their shape.

At the end of the cooling period, set up a double boiler or just gently melt some chocolate or candy melt wafers (I did 2 squares of Baker's chocolate for about 10 truffles). Then dip your truffles directly from the freezer into the melted mixture, coating on all sides. Using a fork, tap them on the side of the pan to let excess chocolate drip off. Place on parchment paper or waxed paper and top with sprinkles or garnish while still quite wet, to ensure that it sticks (optional, but aren't sprinkles always cute?). 

Let them set for an hour or so before eating to ensure you're not going to get too messy. Then, enjoy! these keep quite well too, for up to a week. 

Olive Oil Lemon Poppyseed Cake With Lemon Almond Glaze

Not so very long ago, the California Olive Ranch sent me some olive oil with which to try out some baking.

YES!

So, I looked up recipes, because I have been really wanting to try out an Olive Oil Cake. But I specifically wanted a loaf cake type. I don't know why. Well, OK, yes I do. I have an adorable loaf pan. It's by Emile Henry and it's green. I think it's very cute. Plus, when you bake cakes in loaf form, they sort of resemble bread, and in my mind, that kind of makes them health food.

So I found a recipe which looked good, but I decided that instead of blood oranges, I wanted to use lemon. And I like lemon poppyseed, so I added some seeds. And, well, just to be a bit zany, I decided to add a dash of almond extract to the glaze. 

And so, with all of these little additions and amendments, I ended up with Olive Oil Lemon Poppyseed Cake with Lemon Almond Glaze.

DEAR GOD was this thing good. While it may look like a pound cake, the olive oil sets it apart, taste-wise. While a pound cake is delightfully dense, this had a more tender, layer cake-like crumb, but a rich flavor that while not buttery, was very delicious--luxuriant and lightly fruity-nutty. It is hard to describe, so rather than fetch my thesaurus I am going to suggest that you break out some olive oil and give it a try. I'll give you one more reason why you should try it:

Aw yeah. Here's the recipe.

Olive Oil Lemon Poppyseed Cake With Lemon-Almond Glaze

For the cake

• 1 3/4 cups flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup sugar
• zest of 1 large lemon [about 1 tablespoon]
• juice of 1 large lemon
• 1/2 cup milk
• 3 large eggs
• 2/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon poppyseeds

Preheat oven to 350. Grease a 5-by-9 inch loaf pan. 

In a small bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Set aside. 

Combine sugar and zest together in a bowl; using your fingers, rub together well. Add juice and milk, and whisk to combine. Add eggs and oil, and whisk to combine. 

Add flour mixture to the milk mixture, and whisk until smooth. Whisk in the seeds last, stirring until evenly distributed.

Transfer batter to the pan, and bake until golden and a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean, 40-50 minutes. Cool on a wire rack for 15 minutes.

Turn cake out on rack, and using the tines of a fork, gently poke small holes on the top surface of the cake. Apply half of the glaze while cake is still warm.  When cake has cooled, apply second half of glaze. 

For the Glaze

• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1 cup confectioners' sugar
• dash of almond extract 
• squeeze of lemon juice

Mix all this stuff together. If it's too thin, add a little more sugar. If it's too thick, add more lemon juice or milk or cream. 

The Story of Carrot Cake

Although it would be a stretch to call this homespun favorite a fashion plate of a dessert, carrot cake--a lumpy and slightly frumpy but incredibly moist and flavorful carrot-flecked light brown-hued spice cake, frequently studded with either pineapple or plump raisins, nuts and finished with a thick coat of tangy cream cheese frosting--has enjoyed several moments of vogue over the years.

Believe it or not, the idea of using carrots in desserts actually dates back to Medieval times, when carrot pudding was enjoyed as a sweet at banquets. This was probably borne out of necessity, making use of the carrots’ natural sweetness; while a pudding would have been a steamed and vaguely cakelike affair, there was still much adaptation which would occur, because as much as you search for it, you're not going to find any mention of medieval cream cheese frosting.

Carrots were imported to America by European settlers, and so was, apparently, the pudding; there are bushels of recipes for the stuff from this era on show at the Carrot Museum. The reason again is the carrot's natural sweetness: they contain more sugar than any other vegetable besides the sugar beet, and were much easier to come by during this time.

A big development in the world of carrot cake came in the early 1900s, when the pudding began to be baked in loaf pans, more like a quick bread. Carrots were used as an agent of moisture and sweetness in cakes, when luxury foods were rationed during the first and second world wars. It's possible, too, that the government became carrot-pushers: in England, recipes were distributed to promote the carrot as a nutrient-dense ingredient.

By mid-century, the carrot cake had hopped over to America, where it would make dessert history. Most likely, the recipe was imported to the states following the second world war, where it caught on in cafeterias and restaurants. However, there is a delightful story which indicates that following WWII there was a glut of canned carrots in the U.S; an enterprising businessman named George C. Page hired bakers to find uses for the cans of carrots to create a demand for the product, and the solution was carrot cake, which he then sold through the company Mission Pak, a large purveyor gourmet foods.

At first a novelty, carrot cake nonetheless proved popular enough to stick around on menus. But it really caught on in a big way in the health-conscious 1970s, when carrot cake was perceived as being “healthy." And really, the idea isn't too far-flung: after all, carrots are vegetables, and raisins and nuts are pretty much health food, right?

Of course, the thing that really separates carrot cake from being equivalent to eating a salad is the thick slather of cream cheese, butter, confectioners’ sugar and cream that became the frosting of choice in the 1960s, a time during which Philadelphia Cream Cheese released many recipe pamphlets; possibly it is during this time that the carrot cake and cream cheese frosting really became a bonded pair.

And if we're truthful, what's ultimately kept the cake going isn't necessarily carrots, it's the full spectrum of flavors in the package. Those pretty little flecks of orange are not the dominant flavor of the cake: carrot cakes often taste like spice cake, with the sweetness of raisins or pineapple or even apples, paired with cream cheese frosting, is generally what we look for in a carrot cake. 

Speaking of which, the additions can be the subject of some argument. While raisins are undoubtedly the oldest complement to carrots, many modern palates prefer pineapple, apples or applesauce; sometimes walnuts, sometimes pecans, sometimes no nuts at all. These add-ins are the choice of the baker and the preference of the eater. The cake's mild but distinct flavor have made the cake an enduring favorite: while few would think of it as fashionable, it's considered a timeless classic that never goes out of style.

Here's a carrot cake that would please palates from yesterday and today. Go ahead and think of it as health food as you like; I won't stop you.

Carrot Cake

 Makes 1 cake

• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 4 eggs
• 1 1/4 cups vegetable oil
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 cup light brown sugar, packed
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 3 cups grated carrots
• 1 cup chopped pecans, plus 1/2 cup unchopped pecans, for garnish
• 1 batch cream cheese frosting (recipe follows)

 Procedure

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and flour two 8 or 9-inch pans, and line the bottoms of the pans with parchment paper.
2. In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon. Set aside.
3. In the bowl of a stand mixer, combine the eggs, oil, two sugars, and vanilla. Beat on low speed for about 30 seconds, and then turn up the speed to medium for about 2 to 3 minutes, or until combined and lightly frothy.
4. Reduce the speed to low, and add the flour mixture in 2 to 3 increments, pausing to scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula with each addition.
5. Stir in carrots, mixing until combined. Fold in the pecans.
6. Pour an even amount of batter into each of the prepared pans.
7. Bake in the preheated oven for 40 to 50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Let the cakes cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack, remove the parchment paper, and cool completely.
8. Once cooled, place one cake layer, flat side up, on a serving platter, and spread [f]1/2 to [f]3/4 cup of frosting on top. Leave a half-inch margin all around, as the weight of the second cake layer will spread the frosting to the edges. Place the second cake layer, flat side up, on top of the frosted layer. Frost the top and sides. 

Cream Cheese Frosting

• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 8 ounces cream cheese, softened
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 4 cups confectioners' sugar

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the cream cheese, butter, and vanilla. Beat at medium-high speed until the mixture has a very smooth consistency; pause to scrape the bowl as needed. Add the confectioners' sugar cup by cup, mixing after each addition, until it is smooth and spreadable.

Sweet Cake Alabama: Lane Cake Recipe

Lane Cake: now there's a tall southern belle of a layer cake. It's filled with coconut, chopped fruit and nuts, and a generous serving of whiskey or brandy, and topped off with a snowy range of fluffy frosting. Cutting into this cake is particularly enjoyable: the white frosting gives way to a creamy-colored cake, with a slightly more yellow-toned custard that's flecked with a confetti of nuts and fruits.

Credit for the cake goes to Emma Rylander Lane of Clayton, Alabama, who published the original recipe under the name "Prize Cake" in a self-published cookbook around the turn of the century. It had been titled "Prize Cake" because she had entered it, and won, in a baking contest in Georgia. As time went on and the cake's popularity was spread, Lane's name was attached to the cake.

Modern cookbooks will point out that the original recipe is "imprecise," but over the years (and with the advent of the standardization of ingredient measurements), it has evolved into one of Alabama's famous culinary feats. The cake has been reinvented time and time again, with different types of fruit and nuts in the filling, some with grape juice for teetotaler or child-friendly affairs. This version is fairly classic, with a light cake, dense filling, and a fluffy boiled frosting.

And you, too, can take pride in making this cake. While not necessarily difficult, it is a somewhat laborious cake. However, the end result is a lovely cake that is well-suited for celebrating: delicious, sophisticated and ladylike, but with a little kick from the alcohol that lets you know it means business.

For the full entry and recipe, visit Serious Eats!

Sweet: More Hungarian Cakes to Love

Source: lillasbakery.blogspot.com via Cake on Pinterest

Who doesn't love a delicious European cake?

Don't answer that, because it's rhetorical. Everyone loves a delicious European cake. And recently, I received a message from a CakeSpy reader in Hungary who approved of the fact that I had already mentioned several Hungarian cakes on the site over the years, and was eager to introduce me to some more. I was happy to make the acquaintance, and I'd like to introduce you to the cakes, too.

Here's the message I received: Love your long list of famous cakes,especially,because you have named 3 of my favourite hungarian desserts (Dobos torta, Zsrebó and Gundel palacsinta). As I'm Hungarian, myself I feel well proud of our culinary cake culture. If you want to extend your list,here is a couple of more famous cakes:

Source: harangviragcukraszda.hu via Cake on Pinterest

Eszterházy szelet (Esterhazy slice)-named after a wealthy hungarian family which was a big supporter of art and gastronomy. Layers of walnut pastry filled with cream,and covered with a fondant layer with feather motives.Yum!

Source: monitormagazin.hu via Cake on Pinterest

Somlói galuska (Sholmoy Dumpling)--initially knoked up by Karoly Gollerits- the head waiter from Gundel Restaurant-as he  was in an urgent need for a dessert,and only found:vanilla sponge,nuts,choclate sauce and cream-his quick fix since then become a staple desserts for everey hungarian patisserie.

For more sweetness, check out Gyopar's website: www.sweetpassion.vpweb.co.uk

Refreshingly Sweet: Watermelon Cake Recipe

I love the look of a slice of watermelon: a prettily preppy green-and-pink color combination which is rather pleasing to the eye. But as pleasing as watermelon is as a palate cleanser or side dish, when it comes to dessert, I want something a little more substantial. So to get a pretty look but more of a sugary dessert wallop, I've created my own idealized version of watermelon, in cake form.

Made with sour cream and boasting an achingly delicate crumb, the cake is tinted pink and then studded with mini chocolate chips for "seeds". The finished cake is frosted with pink and green icing to bring home the watermelon effect. It's a decorating idea I've adapted from the Betty Crocker website.

Easy to make and extremely pleasurable to eat, this whimsical cake is bound to make people smile.

For the full entry and recipe, visit Serious Eats!

Grill It: Grilled Pound Cake Recipe for Serious Eats

Riddle me this: why should burgers and hot dogs have all the fun on your grill this summer?

They shouldn't, and here's the dessert to prove it: Grilled Pound Cake.

Simply butter slices of pound cake before putting them on either an outdoor or indoor stovetop grill, and let them get a little char. The nice part about this dessert is that it uses already-baked pound cake, so you can't under-bake it. The grilled toastiness of the cake makes it the perfect canvas for any number of toppings: I really enjoy ice cream and a seasonal fruit compote. Just be sure to prepare this before grilling meats, because you don't want to impart a burger flavor to your dessert!

For the full entry and recipe, visit Serious Eats!

Tunnel of Penuche Cake Recipe for Serious Eats

Perhaps you've heard of Tunnel of Fudge Cake. In spite of its titter-worthy name, this rich, nutty fudge cake with a gooey center and chocolate glaze is a modern classic. It was entered into the 1966 Pillsbury Bake-Off, and it's largely accepted as the recipe that made bundt pans a must-have item, and a predecessor of the chocolate lava cake trend.

But for those of you who aren't into the chocolate overload of the famous Tunnel of Fudge Cake, I have configured a sweet counterpart: the Tunnel of Penuche Cake.

If fudge is the inspiration for the original, penuche (a "blonde" fudge made with brown sugar, butter, milk, and vanilla) is the muse for this honey-hued variation. The dense cake is somewhat blondie-like, redolent of brown sugar and butter and studded with bits of pecan. Although the gooey center effect is far more subtle in this version than the original— it's more like a slightly softer and richer cake in the center, giving way to a lightly crispy edge— it's still extremely pleasant to eat. Ungarnished, this would make a fantastic breakfast cake; when topped with a generous coating of butterscotch sauce or dulce de leche, it is suitable for eating any time of day.

For the full entry and recipe, visit Serious Eats!

Sweet Schooling: Wellesley Fudge Cake Recipe

Wellesley Fudge cake--a deeply decadent chocolate cake topped with a slab of fudge frosting--seems an unlikely sweet to associate with the prim-and-proper ladies of Wellesley (the college featured in the classic feat of cinema Mona Lisa Smile). 

Clearly by the popularity of this recipe, it seems that those young ladies had as voracious an appetite for the sweet stuff as they did for knowledge. But to really look at the origins of this cake, we’ve got to rewind a little bit, to the invention of fudge itself.

Fudge, that semi-soft candy made from butter, sugar, and various flavorings (very commonly chocolate) is an american-ized version of french bonbons and creams, and it became popular in the US in the early 1900s. The Oxford English Dictionary suggests that the name is perhaps derived from the word “fadge”, which is an old-timey term for “to fit pieces together”. Of course, not to confuse you, but an Irish dish called “Fadge” does exist, but it is actually an apple potato cake, traditionally served at Halloween.

As an interesting side note, the word “fudge” referring to a cheat or hoax dates to the 1830s, before the candy was popular--but this may explain how the name was assigned to the candy, too.

You see, those young college ladies would use the sweet stuff as their excuse to stay up late: candy-making was an acceptable activity, and they would use it as an excuse to stay up late, ostensibly to talk about boys and other forbidden subjects. “Nearly every night at college,” said the Vassar girl, “some girl may be found somewhere who is making ‘fudges’ or giving a fudge party.” The timing seems to work out: the word “fudge” for a confection showed up as early as the 1890s, and by 1908 the term was commonly used in association with women’s colleges.

A 1909 cookbook produced by Walter Baker & Co. (producer of Baker’s chocolates) includes three different recipes for fudge, each just slightly different and named, respectively, after Vassar, Smith, and Wellesley colleges.

In fact, there is a letter in the Vassar archives which says,

“Fudge, as I first knew it, was first made in Baltimore by a cousin of a schoolmate of mine. It was sold in 1886 in a grocery store...I secured a recipe and in my first year at Vassar, I made it there--and in 1888 I made 30 pounds for the Senior auction, its real introduction to the college, I think.”

So why would it proliferate, and be adapted to an even richer and more over the top treat, the decadent Wellesley Fudge Cake, at this particular school? Perhaps because it was such a forbidden pleasure there. An 1876 circular to parents states that the college refuses to accept students who are broken down in health, maintaining that a proper diet is key for proper learning, and that “we have therefore decided not to receive any one who will not come with the resolution to obey cheerfully all our rules in this respect, and pledged in honor neither to buy nor receive in any manner whatsoever any confectionery or eatables of any kind not provided for them by the College.” Further, the founder of Wellesley College held that, “pies, lies, and doughnuts should never have a place in Wellesley College”. Well, naturally it would take off here: it tasted positively sacre-licious!

By 1913, fudge and fudge cakes were was common on the tea-room menus surrounding the college.

Every few decades the cake enjoys a renaissance; a little fussy to make in that it requires a bit of candy-making prowess, it is astoundingly easy to eat. The confection was bound for success too: soon, it was even featured prominently as

Some versions call for an unfrosted cake; others, which I favor, feature a double dose of chocolate, the base of which is brownie-like, coated with a more fudge-like frosting.

Note: Traditional recipes called for “thick sour milk”; I'm not quite sure what that even is, so this recipe employs buttermilk. After testing another traditional recipe with some help by Java Cupcake, I find this a superior cake. 

The recipe that finally ended up tasting best? This one, lightly adapted from the geniuses at Cook's Country Magazine. Their original version appears in the book Cook's Country Blue Ribbon Desserts.

Wellesley Fudge Cake
Adapted from Cook's Country Blue Ribbon Desserts

Cake

• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 t. baking soda
• 1 t. baking powder
• 1/2 t. salt
• 3/4 c. hot water
• 1/2 c/ Dutch-processed cocoa powder (I used Hershey's Special Dark which also works fine)
• 16 T. (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 16 pieces and softened
• 2 c. granulated sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 c. buttermilk, room temperature
• 2 t. vanilla extract

Frosting

• 1 1/2 c. packed light brown sugar
• 1 c. evaporated milk
• 8 T. (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces and softened
• 1/2 t. salt
• 8 oz. bittersweet chocolate, chopped
• 1 t. vanilla extract
• 3 c. confectioners’ sugar, sifted

To make the cake:

1. Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and heat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 8-inch square baking pans, then line the bottoms with parchment paper. Combine the flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt in a bowl. Set aside.
2. In a small bowl, whisk the hot water and cocoa together until smooth and set aside. In a large bowl, beat the butter and granulated sugar together with an electric mixer on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, 3-6 minutes. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, until incorporated. Mix in one-third of the flour mixture, followed by 1/2 cup of the buttermilk. Repeat with half of the remaining flour mixture and the remaining 1/2 cup buttermilk. Add the remaining flour mixture and mix until combined. Reduce the mixer speed to low and slowly add the cocoa mixture until incorporated.
3. Give the batter a final stir with a rubber spatula to make sure it is thoroughly combined. Scrape the batter into the prepared pans, smooth the tops, and gently tap the pans on the work surface to settle the batter. Bake the cakes until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with a few crumbs attached, 25-30 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through baking. Let the cakes cool in the pans for 15 minutes. Run a small knife around the edges of the cakes, then flip them out onto a wire rack. Peel off the parchment paper, flip the cakes right side up, and let cool completely before frosting, about 2 hours. (The cakes can be wrapped tightly in plastic wrap and stored at room temperature for up to 2 days.)
4. To make the frosting: Stir together the brown sugar, 1/2 cup of the evaporated milk, 4 tablespoons of the butter, and salt in a large saucepan and cook over medium heat until small bubbles appear around the edge of the pan, 4-8 minutes. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until large bubbles form and the mixture has thickened and turned deep golden brown, about 6 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl. Stir in the remaining 1/2 cup evaporated milk and remaining 4 tablespoons butter until the mixture has cooled slightly. Add the chocolate and vanilla and stir until smooth. Whisk in the confectioners’ sugar until incorporated. Let the frosting cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally, about 1 hour.
5. Line the edges of a cake platter with strips of parchment paper to keep the platter clean while you assemble the cake. Place one of the cake layers on the platter. Spread 1 cup of the frosting over the cake, right to the edges. Place the second cake layer on top, press lightly to adhere, and spread the remaining frosting evenly over the top and sides of the cake. Refrigerate the cake until the frosting is set, about 1 hour. Remove the parchment strips from the platter before serving.