Clean Out the Cabinets Cake Recipe

It doesn't happen, but every now and again (usually when I know I'm moving soon) I get the urge to clean out all the random ingredients that I have lying around in the kitchen. But I absolutely despise throwing things out--it seems so wasteful. But how to make use of these ingredients in an efficient way? 

Well, when I found myself cleaning out the cabinets recently, I had an inspiration.

It started when I found a box of Jiffy Yellow Cake mix. All of a sudden, I looked at everything else with new eyes.

What if I could combine orphan ingredients, all in one cake? It would certainly be something completely awful, or awesome. Maybe both.

So I rounded up a few things that I thought could possibly work in this monster of a cake: half a jar of peanut butter, a third of a box of Teddy Grahams, a handful of Fun-Size candy bars, and about 2 handfuls of potato chips (plain, salted). 

I started by mixing the cake according to the box ingredients (1 egg, 1/2 cup of water). Then, I stirred in the peanut butter. It smelled really good, and my spirits began to get high.

I then stirred in the rest of it--I broke each candy bar into 3 or 4 pieces, crushed the chips in my hand before adding, but just added the Teddy Grahams as-is. It made for an extremely thick, lumpy batter.

I spread it into a well-greased 8x8-inch pan.

I baked it for 22 minutes at 350 degrees, at which point I took out one of the most alluring-smelling cakes my nose has ever known.

When it cooled, I realized that this was a great opportunity to use another ingredient--half a can of cream cheese frosting--so I added that too. Why not? And sprinkles. Rainbow! 

So, you're wondering after this big buildup, how did it taste? 

I was so glad I hadn't thrown anything out--this cake was a keeper. The peanut butter mixed throughout the batter worked amazingly with the chocolate chunks studded everywhere from the Fun-size candy bars, making it feel like you were eating birthday cake with alternating bites of a peanut butter cup. But all mixed in your mouth. The only weirdness was the Teddy grahams, which had lightly softened in the baking process, just to the point where they were just crunchy enough to distract from the cake texture, but not different enough to really have a crunchy crunch impact. Next time I'd crush them before adding. The chips were a pleasant surprise, adding a nice saltiness which made all the competing tastes--peanut butter, cake, frosting, chocolate--come together in a beautiful salty end note. It's like the most beautiful epilogue. 

Clean Out the Cabinets Cake (Printable recipe here!)

Serves 9

• 1 Box Jiffy Cake
• 1 Egg 
• 1/2 cup water
• Whatever stuff you want to add (I added: half a jar of The Bee's Knees peanut butter by Peanut Butter and Company, 2 handfuls of potato chips, about 6 fun-size candy bars, and a third of a box of Teddy Grahams

Procedure

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Grease a cake pan (round or square).
2. Prepare the cake mix per the package instructions (1 egg and 1/2 cup water). 
3. Once the batter is ready, stir in the peanut butter (or any "wet" ingredients).
4. Stir in the rest of your ingredients.
5. Bake for 20-25 minutes, per the package instructions. When golden, remove from the oven. Cool the cake, and turn out on to a wire rack. Let cool completely.
6. If you have frosting, go ahead and frost it. Add sprinkles (why not?). Enjoy!

Sweet Recipe: Mom McComb’s Mocha Hot Chocolate Pie

CakeSpy Note: This is a sweet exclusive, a recipe from Linda Hundt, owner of Sweetie-licious' Pie Pantry in DeWitt, Michigan.  The recipe is for Mom McComb’s Mocha Hot Chocolate Pie and is an exclusive recipe that has not yet been published, but will be published in Linda's forthcoming cookbook, Sweetie-licious Pies (this coming fall).

While growing up in Michigan, there were plenty of snowy days and all the fun activities that went along with the winter weather, but ice skating was a family favorite.  At the end of our street, there was a darling park that was transformed into an ice rink in the winter. The rink was fashioned with a warming house, outdoor lights and music and was surrounded by large Sycamore trees.  Afterschool, my siblings and I would race home, put on our ice skates, and skate down the ice covered street to the rink. We would meet our friends there to play crack the whip, pretend to be Dorothy Hamill, and ice dance to the music all afternoon. 

On Saturdays, after a full day of skating, and numb from the cold, we would anxiously skate home.  At times, we were not only welcomed by the warmth of the house, but also the fragrant smell of chocolate; as my dear mother had made a big pot of steaming, creamy hot chocolate.  Her hot chocolate was extra special, made with cream, cinnamon and a splash of her leftover morning coffee.  The thick and rich cocoa was always topped by a large marshmallow and served in antique teacups and saucers!  I remember our little hands wrapped around our cups, tipping the marshmallow into the pond of chocolate bliss with our tongues. I remember feeling warm with love while sipping on such a special winter treat, as you will, with this most delicious, cool version created as a pie!

Eat pie, and serve love in all you do!

Mom McComb’s Mocha Hot Chocolate Pie

Recommended: Graham Cracker Crust

Filling

• 2 ½ cups whole milk
• ½ cup half & half
• 1 ¼ cups of sugar
• 4 egg yolks
• 1/3 cup cornstarch
• 1/3 cup Hershey’s Cocoa
• ½ teaspoon coffee extract OR 1 rounded tablespoon finely ground espresso powder
• ¼ teaspoon of vanilla

Garnish – Optional

• Whipped cream
• Marshmallow cream
• Marshmallows
• Chocolate syrup

Procedure

Mix milk, half & half, sugar, egg yolks in medium pan. Sift cornstarch, cocoa and espresso powder, if using, and add to pan. Cook on medium heat, stirring constantly until mixture thickens. Add vanilla extract and coffee extract, if using. Pour filling into pie crust, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 3 hours. Garnish with whipped cream, drizzled marshmallow cream or marshmallows and chocolate syrup.

Sweetened Condensed Milk Funfetti Cake

Certainly, if there were an Official List of Things That Are Grand and Mighty, the following would be on it: Funfetti Cake Mix, Sweetened Condensed Milk, Chocolate Fudge Frosting, and Teddy Grahams. 

So you can imagine how wealthy in sweet riches I felt when I found myself in possession of all of these things, at once, in my kitchen, at the ready. 

Knowing that I needed to make the most of this precious bounty, I thought long and hard before settling on the ideal concoction: a Sweetened Condensed Milk Cake. 

I quickly found a recipe on this forum which detailed how to trick-out a cake mix with sweetened condensed milk for a decadent treat, and was delighted to see that I had all of the ingredients on hand. 

Now, the recipe I started with was somewhat like Houdini Bars--a cake mix crust, but with a sweetened condensed milk and chocolate gooey topping.

But what the heck, I thought, and decided to pour in the sweetened condensed milk right along with the cake mix and see how it baked up. 

And you know what? It worked! The resulting cake was very dense, more like a bar cookie texture; the taste was heavenly sweet, with that lightly caramelly-milk tasting flavor that the sweetened condensed milk so deliciously imparts. So rich. You really shouldn't eat a lot of this. Just kidding. Eat more.

And in a case of pure gilding the lily, I added an extremely thick layer of fudge frosting on top of it all, and since they were on hand, gently placed Teddy Grahams on top. Now, it wasn't my intention, but with those Teddy Grahams gently resting on top of the cake, waiting for their final resting place in the greedy mouth of various sugar fiends, something was pointed out to me by the creators of The Sporkful. These teddies resembled the rows of soldiers so dramatically captured in Gone With the Wind!

So I started to think of it as a Teddy Graham Graveyard. So, that's my secondary title for this cake: Teddy Graham Graveyard Cake.

Sweetened Condensed Milk Funfetti Cake, or Teddy Graham Graveyard Cake

Printable recipe here!

About 1 hour - 24 servings

For the cake

• 1 box cake mix (I used Funfetti)
• 2 large eggs 
• 1/3 cup oil 
• 1 can sweetened condensed milk 
• 1/2 stick butter, cut small

Frosting

• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
• 4 cups confectioners' sugar, divided
• 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1/4 cup heavy cream

Teddy Grahams, for garnish

Preheat oven to 350. Grease a 13 x 9 x 2 inch baking pan.

In a large mixing bowl, beat the cake mix, eggs, oil, and sweetened condensed milk in a large bowl with mixer until blended. Pour into the prepared pan. 

Bake 20 to 25 minutes until lightly browned. 

While the cake cools, prepare the frosting. To make the frosting, in a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter on high speed until smooth, about 1 minute. In a separate bowl, sift together 3 cups of the confectioners' sugar with the cocoa.

Add the sugar and cocoa mixture to the butter mixture in 2 to 3 additions, beating on low speed to incorporate. Pause to scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula after each addition.

Add the salt, vanilla, and cream; increase speed to medium, and beat until the mixture is very fluffy a spreadable consistency. If the frosting is too soft, add a little more sugar; if it's too thick, add additional cream in small increments, mixing after each addition, until it has reached your desired consistency.

Frost the cake all over, right in the pan. It's gonna be a lot of frosting. Sprinkle with nonpareils or sprinkles of your choice, and don't forget the Teddy Grahams.

The Mystery Pie Is...

There's nothing more exciting than discovering a new dessert.

So when I found myself leafing through the book Paula Deen's Southern Cooking Bible: The New Classic Guide to Delicious Dishes with More Than 300 Recipes, I was delighted to come across a recipe for a pie that I'd never seen before, and furthermore, it prominently featured an ingredient, that while very well-known, is not strongly associated with pie or dessert. 

Thanks, P-Deeny!

And as it turns out, I have a very special person in my life who is just crazy about this ingredient. He always orders it as a side, and his speeches about what makes the ideal version of this dish can get quite involved and somewhat dramatic. 

So I told him to make the pie.

So he went to the grocery store, picked up some ingredients, and made the recipe that had so enchanted me...

Southern Grits Pie.

Basically a custard pie held together with grits, I personally was curious to hear what a grits lover would say about it. The final thoughts were:

"The finished product was very interesting. In the piece I had for breakfast, I could really see the texture working as a bar cookie, perhaps with a shortbread crust. The texture calls to mind a thick coconut pie, but the taste is different. Adding flavoring would be welcome--as it is with grits as a side. I am curious about how this pie might work with maple syrup added to the filling instead of sugar, or how it might taste with a sauce such as caramel or chocolate, or any fruit topping. But it was strong enough to stand alone--the first piece begged me to have another. A good dessert for someone who doesn't want way-out sweet."

A few more baking notes:

• I used Quaker Grits Quick 5 Minutes 
• The idea of whisking for 20 minutes was daunting, but I decided I'd just do it til they were done--less than 10 minutes. But at that point, the mixture was fairly solid so I stopped it there. Once the butter was in, it was easier to work with. But the mixture definitely wasn't pretty. The flour clumped when mixed in; I tried to use a whisk, but it was too thick. I had to mix quite a bit. It might be a good idea to sift the flour before mixing it in. 
• The baking was straightforward; I had to put foil around the edges to keep the crust for baking more rapidly than the filling. I baked mine for 38 minutes.

Southern Grits Pie (Printable recipe here)

Adapted from Paula Deen's Southern Cooking Bible: The New Classic Guide to Delicious Dishes with More Than 300 Recipes

Total time: 1 hour. Makes 8 servings.

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup quick-cook grits (not instant)
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 8 tablespoons (1 stick) butter
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 2 tablespoons all purpose flour
• 3 large eggs, lightly beaten
• 1/4 cup butermilk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 unbaked pie crust
• whipped cream, fruit, or whatever topping you'd like.

Procedure

Preheat the oven to 325.

In a small saucepan, bring 3/4 cup water to a boil. Slowly, whisk in the grits and salt. Cook for 20 minutes (see note, above), whisking constangly. Add the butter and cook for an extra minute. Set aside to let cool slightly.

In a small bowl, stir together the sugar, flour, eggs, buttermilk, and vanilla. Stir into the cooked grits. Pour the grits mixture into the unbaked pie crust and bake until set, 35 to 40 minutes. Serve warm or cold.

Sweet Treats: White Wine Cookies Recipe

I am not a wine expert. Occasionally a birthday cake or Twinkie expert, but for me, wine is something I enjoy without necessarily having a great deal of knowledge. In fact, if I may, let me share a funny anecdote which illustrates just how much the opposite of a wine expert I am.

One day, I was at a store picking out some wine. As usual, I was scanning the shelves for cool-looking labels and then doing a cross-examination of the bottle's price. If it has a cool label and is under $10, it's great in my book. Choosing one that fit my needs, I plucked it from the shelf, only to turn around and see some dude looking at me. He then said, "you just picked that because of the label, didn't you". Note that it wasn't so much a question as a statement. Yup--busted.

That tale is meant to amuse you, but also to lead into the fact that when I received some sample bottles from SkinnyGirl wine, I wasn't 100 percent sure how to feel about them. My sister wanted to open and try some, so we did. To me, it just tasted like wine. It didn't taste lower calorie or anything, although technically, it is.

But there was one thing I was sure of, and it was that if I was going to use it for baking, I'd definitely have to fatten it up. Really, there's some logic to this: after all, if you're depriving yourself of all those precious calories in the wine, you'll have to make it up some other way, right? So now, you can have your wine and eat your cookies too.

And after a quick google search on the subject, I knew exactly how I wanted to do this: by making Italian Wine Cookies. I found a great-looking recipe here, and was happy to discover I already had all of the ingredients on hand, except anise. I don't like anise that much (personal thing), so I used vanilla extract instead.

While it's possible that mixing with a stand mixer instead of by hand made the texture of my cookies a little different, I've got to tell you that taste-wise, they came out very well. This is an intriguing cookie--not extremely sweet, 

Ciambelline - Printable recipe here!

Adapted from Olive and Owl

Makes about 30

• 3 1/2 cups of flour 
• 1/2 cup of sugar
• 1 1/2 teaspoon of anise
• 1/2 cup of olive oil
• 1/2 cup of white wine
•  a little extra wine and sugar for topping

Procedure

In a large bowl, mix together the dry ingredients.

Then pour in the wine and oil and mix by hand or on low speed with an electric mixer until it becomes a dough. It will be a fairly stiff dough. Roll the dough out to about 1/2 inch thickness. Cut into strips about the thickness and length of your index finger, about 3 inches long and 1/2 wide. 

Wrap the strip of dough around your finger and crimp the ends shut.

Then place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake for 20 to 30 minutes at 350 until golden and crisp. Note: these will be fairly hard--they are a dunking cookie.

Not necessary, but if you'd like, mix some more wine and a little confectioners' sugar to make a glaze; also not necessary but cute, why not top with sprinkles?

Yippee: Discover the Apee Cookie

Have you ever heard of an Apee, or AP? 

Although I respect the organizations, it has nothing to do with the grocery store A&P, or the Associated Press (AP). 

Nope: the Apee is a cookie I recently discovered. 

Curious, I hit the web, and the books. Here's what I discovered.

First, the The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and Drink in America: 2-Volume Set, which notes: 

"A recipe for apees, a rolled cutout cookie made with caraway seeds, sometimes called "seed cakes," first appeared in Eliza Leslie's Seventy-Five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats (1828). Another version, known as "apeas," was based on German Anis Platchen (anise cookies), and Philadelphia bakers commonly sold them on the streets. Apeas became associated with Ann Page, a popular baker who stamped her initials, A.P., on the cookies. Anise is still a common flavoring used in a variety of cookies, ranging from old recipes for apeas to simple cutout cookies and ethnic specialties like German Springerles..."

Encyclopedia of Food and Drink by John Mariani, describes it like this: "Apee. Also "apea" and, in the plural "eepies." A spiced butter cookie or form of gingerbread. Legend has it that the word derives from the name of Ann Page, a Philadelphia cook who carved her initials into the tops of the confection. This was first noted in print in J.F. Watson's Annals of Philadelphia (1830) to the effect that Ann Page, then still alive, "first made [the cookies] many years ago, under the common name of cakes.'" 

Oddly though, the recipe I found for Apees does not include caraway seeds or spices. Nor did it call for stamping the letters (although I guess it wouldn't if that was one person's signature move). Nor did it include standardized measurements.

"Apees (Ice Cream and Cakes) 1 pound of butter 1 1/2 pounds of flour 1 pound of sugar 1 gill of milk Cream the butter and sugar; sift in the flour, then the milk, and stir it to a dough; turn it out on the moulding-board, and work to a fine dough again. Roll into sheets, as thick as a dollar piece, cut into small cakes, lay them on tins, and bake in a cool oven." --- Mrs. Rorer's Philadelphia Cook Book, 1886

Nonetheless, I decided to give it a try. So I evolved the old recipe into this recipe. Here's another that looks like they probably hit the mark more accurately, though!

Not Necessarily Historically Acurate Apees

• 1 stick butter
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1 tablespoon milk

Cream the butter and sugar; sift in the flour and mix, bit by bit, until incorporated. Roll into sheets, and cut into small cakes (I just dropped rounded teaspoons-ful onto a baking sheet). Bake at 350 for about 10 minutes, or until crispy on the sides and bottom.

I made the cookies as drop cookies, but perhaps I should have done them as rolled or bar cookies. Who knows, dude. But either way, even though they weren't quite evenly crispy on the sides and middle, they still tasted good. Basic, but plenty buttery, they actually glistened with butter when taken out from the oven, and there may or may not have been the most tantalizing slight butter-sizzle as they were removed from heat. They became crisp as they cooled; when I garnished a nice bowl (not cup; bowl) of ice cream with a couple of these crispy cookies, I had absolutely no complaints. No complaints whatsoever. 

Either way, I think it's always fun to discover a "lost" recipe!

Pastry Pen Pals and Fudge-Filled Dessert Strips Recipe

I have a friend. A very special one. To prove how special he is, I'll show you something that he made me one day. Dear god were they good. The bottom part is a brownie, and the top part kind of tastes like the inside of a Cadbury Creme Egg. When I asked for the recipe, he said kindly but firmly, NO. 

Well, I never. But luckily, he has other good qualities. One of them is that he enjoys the life of a Cake Gumshoe, and when he visits Philadelphia, he's willing to go on long bakery jaunts with me.

And on a recent tour of the East Passyunk area of Philadelphia, we tried this cookie at Varallo Brothers Pasticceria. While it may slightly resemble a Fig Newton, I need to tell you that it was a million times better because it was filled with chocolate. 

And as a side note, we also got a cannoli. 

I should further mention that this was all after a slice of pizza from the weirdest pizza place in the world, La Rosa Pizza. Let's just say David Lynch would love this pizza place.

But I digress. Back to that cookie. That beautiful chocolate stuffed cookie. At the bakery they just said it was a "chocolate slice", but it seemed to resemble one called cuccidati (though it is traditionally filled with fig, and I don't think there was secret fig in this cookie...or was there?).

At any rate, it was a highly enjoyable experience.

So when my friend returned back home, we were delighted to play a little bit of pastry pen pal. I found a recipe (via the book Taste of Home Baking: 125 Bake-Sale Favorites!) for something called "Fudge Filled Dessert Strips", which sounded similar enough to call to mind that tasty chocolate slice. I sent him the recipe, and he made it and sent me pictures so I could share it with you, dear readers.

The cookies are reported as being "extremely dense and decadent", but surprisingly easy to make. The dough was rather easy to work with, he reports, and the finished product perfect with ice cream for dessert, or rather tasty for an indulgent breakfast.

You see, in this pastry pen pal relationship everyone wins, because he got to have a baking adventure and a delicious dessert, and I got a great recipe to post. But wait...where's my dessert? Well, ok, maybe not everyone wins. 

But you can be a winner by making a batch! Here's the recipe with some adaptations from the original.

Fudge-Filled Dessert Strips - Printable Recipe here!

Adapted from Taste of Home Baking: 125 Bake-Sale Favorites!

Makes about 3 dozen

• 1 cup butter, softened
• 1 package (8 ounces) cream cheese, softened
• 2 cups all purpose flour
• 2 cups (12 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips
• 1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk
• 2 cups chopped pecans (original recipe called for walnuts)
• confectioners' sugar, optional

In a large bowl, cream the butter and cream cheese until light and fluffy. Gradually add flour and mix well. Turn onto a lightly floured surface; knead until smooth, about 3 minutes. Divide dough into fourths; cover and refrigerate for 1-2 hours, or until easy to handle.

In a microwave-safe bowl, melt chocolate chips with milk; stir until smooth. Stir in the nuts. Cool to room temperature.

Roll out each portion of dough on to an ungreased baking sheet into an 11x6.5 inch rectangle. Spread 3/4 cup of the filling down the center of each rectangle. Fold long sides to the center; press to seal all the edges. Turn over so the seam sides are down.

Bake at 350 degrees for 27-32 minutes or until lightly browned. Remove to wire racks to cool completely. Cut into 1/2 inch slices. Dust with confectioners' sugar if desired. 

Greek Yogurt Cheesecake with a Chocolate Shortbread Crust

A few months ago, there was a good-looking recipe for Greek Yogurt Cheesecake with Pomegranate Syrup in Bon Appetit magazine.

But I was pretty sure I could make it better.

My first change was to ditch the graham cracker crust, and instead use mashed-up chocolate shortbread cookies. Then, I figured, why not go whole hog and add a layer of melted chocolate between the crust and cheesecake? So basically, the crust is a layer of these Million Dollar Shortbread Bars. Like for the bars, I used Walkers shortbread since I had a bunch of samples.

As for the pomegranate? Well, I'll tell you the truth. I didn't feel like going to the store for a pomegranate, plus, they're kind of expensive and messy. And would it really taste good with the chocolate? 

Basically, pomegranate amounted to "too hard". So I opted for toasted almonds on top, instead. And you know what? It tasted fantastic. Zingy and tangy thanks to the yogurt-cream cheese topping, it was mellowed by the dark, rich chocolatey crust, making for an unusual but quite nice flavor complement. Aforementioned crust, along with the toasty nuts on top, gave it a nice crunch. The only tough part was that the chocolate layer on top of the crust made cutting difficult, since the dessert must be chilled. So there may be a little hacking involved to ensure a prompt delivery of this dessert to your mouth.

I'm going to call this one a success. A little goes a long way with the powerful flavors of the dessert--a small slice will do. I think this makes it a perfect post dinner party dessert, for when people are fairly full but still want a decadent bite or four.

So while I really took some liberties with the recipe, I still thank Bon Appetit for planting the idea seedling in my mind for this delicious treat.

Greek Yogurt Cheesecake with Chocolate Shortbread Crust 

Crust

• 1 batch Million Dollar Shortbread Bars, prepared in a 9-inch springform pan and cooled

Filling

• 2 teaspoons powdered gelatin
• 1 1/2 pounds cream cheese, room temperature
• 1 1/2 cups plain whole-milk Greek yogurt
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Special Equipment

• A 9-inch-diameter springform pan

Preparation

1. Prepare crust. Let set until cool.
2. Once you're ready to make the filling, place gelatin and 1 1/2 tablespoon cold water in a heatproof bowl. Let stand until softened, 5-10 minutes.
3. Pulse cream cheese, yogurt, sugar, lemon juice, vanilla, and salt in a food processor, scraping down sides as needed, until completely smooth.
4. Pour water to a depth of 1/2-inch into a small skillet over medium heat. Place bowl with gelatin in skillet; stir until gelatin dissolves, about 2 minutes. Remove bowl from skillet.
5. With processor running, drizzle gelatin into cream cheese mixture; mix until well blended. Pour into prepared crust. Tap pan firmly on the counter to break up any big air bubbles. Smooth top. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and chill for at least 6 hours before serving. 
6. When ready to serve, toast almonds in 350 degree oven until fragrant. Let cool, and sprinkle on top of the cheesecake before serving.

Chocolate Chip Pistachio Cookies for Christmas

One of the most wonderful things about a recipe is all the places it can go.

Take, for instance, a recipe for two-tiered Chocolate Chip Pistachio Cookies that appeared in a women's magazine in the early 1980s. How could the recipe developer have known what a role this recipe would end up playing in the Spy family's lives?

After all, it was this recipe that struck the fancy of my mother (you know her as SpyMom) and intrigued her enough to bake a batch. And the whole family loved them. They were buttery and lightly crumbly but so soft and just ever so slightly chewy in the center, and the walnuts and pistachio and chocolate just worked so perfectly together. We all loved them so much, in fact, that the next year, she made them again. And the year after that. A tradition was born.

But somewhere along the line--was it when her children went to college, moved away, began having their own lives?--the cookies stopped being made. Every year someone (usually me) would lament the fact that they were missing from the festivities, but year after year, they did not make an appearance.

But this year, we brought the recipe out from hiberation. SpyMom found the handwritten recipe and told me that this was during her "penmanship phase", when she would stay up at night practicing perfect penmanship, trying to will her handwriting into something more perfect than it was. 

Since then, her handwriting has reverted back to its old, slighly messier, but in my opinion, more charming form.

But how wonderful to encounter this little slice of the past, complete with doodlings (mine? My little sister's?) and speckled with baking debris from years past. 

I baked the cookies while my parents were out, and when they returned, my mother shrieked. "What?" I cried out, thinking that perhaps she'd seen a mouse. But no. "They're just like I used to make!" she said. And I may be getting a bit flowery here, but I think that she and my dad both had a little moment, thinking sweet memories. And that made me extremely happy, in turn. 

How's that for season's sweetings?

Chocolate Chip Pistachio Cookies

Makes about 24

• 3 1/4 cups all purpose flour
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 2 eggs
• 2 tablespoons milk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1/4 cup chopped walnuts
• 1 package (3 3/4 ounces) instant pistachio pudding (NOT sugar-free)
• 6 ounces (half a bag) semisweet chocolate chips, plus 20-30 chips for garnish
• confectioners' sugar, for dusting

Procedure

1. Preheat the oven to 375 F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper, or lightly grease them.
2. In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt; set aside.
3. In a separate bowl, using an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar until smooth, 2-3 minutes on medium speed. Add the eggs, milk, and vanilla; blend until creamy. Add the flour mixture in 3-4 increments, mixing until a stiff dough forms. Remove 1/4 of the dough to a separate bowl; add the walnuts.
4. To the remaining dough, add the pudding mix and stir until completely combined. Fold in the 6 ounces of chocolate chips.
5. By rounded teaspoonfuls, form the green dough into balls, and place 1 1/2 inches apart on the prepared sheets. Using the back of a teaspoon or a floured drinking glass bottom, gently flatten the tops of these dough rounds. 
6. Grab the small bowl of walnutty dough. Form the dough into marble-sized pieces, and place a ball of this dough on the top of each pistachio dough mound. Sort of like a two-part snowman. 
7. Place a single chocolate chip on top of each of the cookies, pressing gently to make sure it will stay in place.
8. Bake in your preheated oven for 8-10 minutes, or until set. It's going to be hard to see if they have become golden on the bottom, so mainly just look for a matte finish and an ever so slight golden color around the bottom edge. Remove from the oven and let cool on the rack for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely. If desired, dust with confectioners' sugar.

The Story of Chiffon Cake

CakeSpy Note: Serious thanks to Sandy's Chatter and writer Joe Hart for sharing their stories and research with me!

If there was ever a cake to have a rags to riches, Lana Turner-type Hollywood discovery, it was chiffon cake, a light cake with a delicate crumb that physically resembles angel food cake, but with a far richer flavor. But even before being famously debuted and promoted as the “first new cake in 100 years” on its grand release to the public in 1948, the tale of the chiffon cake was unfolding glamorously in Hollywood . . . 

It all started with Harry Baker, who went to Hollywood in 1923, needing a fresh start. Exactly why isn't quite known, but some suspect it's because he was outed as homosexual in his hometown (sadly, not as OK then as it is today). He found work as an insurance salesman, but moonlighted as a caterer; it was during this time that he began to experiment with cake recipes. To describe Harry Baker as a “hobby cook” is an understatement--this cake was more like his Moby Dick. He later revealed that he tested over 400 recipes, seeking what he hoped would be a moister, more substantial version of the then-popular angel food cake. Was the recipe that finally worked a fluke, or a stroke of masterful baking? Perhaps a bit of both.

What finally ended up working, in 1927, is seemingly quite simple: he used vegetable oil (sometimes referred to as "salad oil") instead of solid shortening or butter in his recipe. The cake employs egg whites for lift, and the resulting cake is tantalizingly light, like angel food, but with a far richer flavor. Later, he would tell a Minneapolis Tribune reporter that the addition of the vegetable oil was "a sixth sense, something cosmic."

He approached the nearby Brown Derby restaurant (famous as the place where the Cobb Salad was invented) with this cake, and they agreed to sell it—it was the first (and for a time) the only dessert they offered.

As the Derby gained fame, so did the chiffon cake, and requests began to pour in from the likes of Barbara Stanwyck.

By the 1930s, he was having to turn away orders. (Wisely, Baker kept his methods and ingredients a secret; it was this mystery that made it a highly sought-out sweet treat for the elite.) He remained a one-man operation, mixing each cake to order; at the height of production, Baker was producing 42 cakes in an 18-hour day, which yielded him the equivalent of nearly $1,000 in today’s money.

How was it done, people (especially copycats) wanted to know? For two decades, Harry Baker wouldn't tell. Finally, in 1947, he approached General Mills, the food manufacturing giant, to see if they might have an interest in acquiring the recipe. (Even they had been unable to figure out the secret.) They eventually paid up with what is still an undisclosed price for the recipe. They unveiled it to the public a year later, making a huge to-do about it, calling it "The first new cake in 100 years" in a big article in Better Homes and Gardens. The first published recipe was for Orange Chiffon Cake, ;and it rose to stardom as quick as you can say "Lana Turner."

Later, an ad for Sperry Drifted Snow flour called it “The baking sensation of the century!," touting its richness yet simplicity to make--so easy that you could even "have your husband bake one."

This version of Harry Baker's famous cake, inspired by a Brown Derby recipe, is said to have been favored by a fat gossip columnist who considered the grapefruit cake acceptable diet food! It's a study in pleasant contrasts: light yet rich, sweet yet tart, simple yet layered in flavor.

 Grapefruit Chiffon Cake

Makes one 10-inch tube cake (12 servings)

For the cake:

• 2 1/4 cups cake flour (not self-rising)
• 1 1/2 cups sugar, divided
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 7 large eggs, separated, plus 2 additional egg whites (7 yolks and 9 whites)
• 3/4 cup freshly squeezed grapefruit juice (from 3 large grapefruits)
• 2 tablespoons grapefruit zest
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• Pinch of salt
• 1 teaspoon cream of tartar

For the filling:

• 2 cups heavy cream, chilled
• 2 tablespoons light rum (optional)
• 2 teaspoons grapefruit zest
• 1/4 cup sugar
• Pinch of salt

Procedure

1. Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Have ready an ungreased 10-inch tube pan, 4 inches deep, with a removable bottom.
2. To make the cake, in a large bowl sift the flour, 3/4 cup of the sugar, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
3. In a separate bowl, whisk the oil, egg yolks, grapefruit juice and zest, and vanilla until lightly frothy. Add this mixture to the flour mixture, whisking until the batter is smooth.
4. In the clean, dry bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until they are foamy. Add the cream of tartar, and on medium-high speed, beat the whites until they hold stiff peaks. Add the remaining 3/4 cup sugar a little at a time, and on medium speed, beat the whites until they hold stiff, glossy peaks.
5. Stir one third of the whites into the egg yolk mixture to lighten it; fold in the rest of the remaining whites gently but thoroughly.
6. Spoon the batter into the tube pan, and bake the cake for 50-60 minutes, or until a tester inserted into the center comes out clean.
7. Run a long, thin knife around the outer and inner edges of the pan. Invert the pan onto a rack and let the cake cool completely in the pan, upside down on the rack. Using a serrated knife, cut the cake in half horizontally.
8. To make the filling, chill a large bowl in the refrigerator. Using an electric mixer, beat together the cream, rum, grapefruit zest, sugar, and the pinch of salt until the mixture holds firm peaks. Cover the cream tightly and keep it chilled until you're ready to frost the cake.
9. To assemble the cake, transfer the bottom (wider) layer of the cake to a platter and spread about half of the frosting on it. Set the remaining cake half on top, and top it with the remaining cream. If desired, garnish with additional grapefruit zest or thin slices of grapefruit.
10. Serve immediately after assembling. This cake is best served the same day; store, loosely covered, in the refrigerator.