Bake and Shake

So I don't have to panic and yell at Google each time I need the recipe

I made a lot of birthday cakes this summer, and the most popular one was this one, by far. I didn't take pictures, because I was usually partying it up and didn't even get to eat or watch people eat it, but for my reference (and yours, if you want a fail-safe recipe that always, always turns out a beautiful, fluffy, delicious delicately crumbed yellow cake. And the icing is SPECTACULAR). I usually flavor both the cake and icing heavily with almond extract, rather than vanilla, and I use a vanilla bean for both, dividing it in half. This results in a cake that tastes and smells like a dream.

Yellow Cake to end all Yellow Cakes
Adapted from this recipe

2 1/2 cups + 2 Tablespoons All Purpose Flour
2 cups granulated sugar
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt (omit if using salted butter, which is what I usually do)
1 cup (2 sticks) softened butter, cubed
3 large eggs
1 egg yolk
1 1/3 cups whole milk, room temp
1 teaspoon apple-cider vinegar
1 teaspoon pure Almond Extract
Seeds from half a vanilla bean, scraped

Preheat your oven to 350 F. Add the vinegar to the milk, and let stand for five minutes. Butter and flour two nine-inch round cake pans. Wonder at your own glory.

Whisk together the sugar, flour, baking powder and soda, salt and add the cubed butter. Using a hand or stand mixer, mix the butter into the dry ingredients until crumbly and fine, and then add the eggs, milk, almond extract and vanilla, beating until a smooth, silky batter comes to life. Make sure to scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl, you want a uniform texture. Rub a bit of batter between your fingers, and if you can't feel sugar granules, you're good to go. Or just taste it.

Pour into prepared pans and bake for 25-30 minutes, depending on your oven, until golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean. Cool in the pans for twenty minutes, run a knife around the edges and then turn out onto a rack and cool completely. Meanwhile, make some delicious frosting.

Alternates:
    Add poppyseeds/lemon/orange zest
    Replace Almond extract with Vanilla

Frosting so delicious you'll gross yourself out

1 8 oz package of cream cheese, softened
2 sticks/1 cup of softened butter (use salted, if your favorite brand isn't too salty, or one salted and one unsalted)
1 pound/16 ounces powdered sugar
1 teaspoon pure Almond Extract
Seeds from half a vanilla bean, scraped

Whip together the cream cheese and butter with a hand or stand mixer until fluffy. Add the powdered sugar, cup by cup, until desired sweetness level is achieved. Then add the almond extract and vanilla bean seeds and mix until combined. Frost the cooled cake generously, as follows -- big plop in the middle, build up a nice rim around the edge and fill in any lopsided bits. Top with second layer and smooth a thin layer over the entire cake. Let rest for five to ten minutes, then frost with remaining frosting and swoop, swirl or smooth until you're happy with it all.

Alternate frostings:
Ganache
    - Pour 3/4 cup of hot cream over a bag of best quality chocolate chips (Ghiradelli), add 1 Tablespoon of hot coffee,     and whisk until smooth. Add one Tablespoon of honey, and chill until thickened. Remove from fridge, and whip         (loosen with more hot coffee, if needed) until spreadable. Frost cake -- double recipe, usually. Also, add orange         zest for oomph and dudes.
Whipped Cream/Cream Cheese Frosting hybrid
    - Whip one cup of cold, heavy cream with two Tablespoons of granulated sugar until stiff peaks form, but not butter     territory. Meanwhile, beat 8 oz of cream cheese with 1/2 teaspoon of almond extract, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract and     2 to 3 cups of powdered sugar, then fold in the whipped cream mixture gently. Frost, and serve/eat within 48 hours,     chill leftovers.
    - Substitute whipped cream for sour cream.

"And then we crashed the set of a Trisha Yearwood video": Blackberry Crumb Muffins

"All I know is, one minute she was in the car, and the next she was calling us from a Jiffy Lube two zipcodes over."

So this weekend I watched "Fame", slept, relaxed, made these muffins and stayed out until 4 am last night, with friends and cheap pink champagne. 

There is no excuse for what happened between 9 pm and 4 am, just that it involved chauffeurs, 'Stumptown Hot Spots', making a birthday cake out of Plaid Pantry snack cakes, Jack in the Box cheeseburgers, smelling like a Tobacco plant and having a staggering moment of sobriety, where I faked a sip of a drink a guy who'd introduced himself three times in thirty minutes bought me. 'Lifetime' was a harsh and efficient tutor. I know that sounds all "HORSE TRANQS ARE IN THE TAP WATER AT CO-ED SCHOOLS." But when a man you don't know just shows up and hands you a glass of suspect liquor, you're not sure what to do. Do you hand it back? Do you set it down and cold-eye him? Or do you do what I did, which is manage a weak "Thanks!" and then thumbs-up it, before setting it down and leaning into one of your guy friends. Guess.

Also. Leaving the worst kind of group voice-mails for people who couldn't be there, ever, and then the next morning being told "Yeah, I got your message. Your voice was so loud," and then thinking about how you were sitting four people away from the person holding the phone.

I am an old woman, because I have not committed that hard in a long time, and even after my before-bed ritual (one liter of water, two aspirin and a clean, washed face, then more water and moisturizer first thing after you wake up. Your welcome. Love Grandma. Why don't you ever wear that sweater I sent you?) I woke up not feeling the wear, but actually wearing it. My face looked like Naugahyde. Like the seats in that car your dad parked by the side of the garage, and left, for ten years, and then 'gave' it to you when you turned seventeen, saying that if you and your friends got the rats out, you could drive it. Hard livin'.

Anyway. Here is something so much prettier than my face, this morning. Raspberry muffins, which are on their third day and still delicious, moist and viable. Supple, even. They and their loud voices didn't make a fool out of themselves. Buttery, with a sweet, slightly-cinnamon tinged crumb topping, the muffins are just sweet enough and the pockets of sour, juicy blackberries make things so nice. While they're fine at room temperature, I suggest warming yours just enough to soften everything, really turning the double-dose of vanilla up. Then they're even better.

Blackberry Crumb Muffins
Adapted from Ina Garten

1 1/2 sticks softened butter (equal to 12 tablespoons)
1 1/2 cups granulated white sugar
3 large eggs, at room temperature
2 1/2 teaspoons (really) pure vanilla extract
1 cup plain Greek Yogurt
1/4 cup milk
2 1/2 cups AP flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 1/2 heaping cups of frozen or fresh blackberries, washed and stemmed

Crumb Topping

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line two muffin tins with paper cups, and brush the top, flat part of the pans with oil if you like, or cooking spray. Set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until creamy, fluffy and pale yellow using an electric or stand mixer. Add the vanilla extract and eggs, one at a time, beating until blended and silky. Add the Greek yogurt and milk, mixing until fluid. Add the flour, baking powder and soda, and salt. Mix just until combined, using a spatula to finish the mixing, making sure to scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl. Add the blackberries, and fold in gently with the spatula.

Using an ice cream scoop, or 1/4 cup measure, place large scoops of batter in each liner. Scatter the tops with the crumb mixture, and bake for 25-35 minutes (checking after 25), or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean and the tops are a smooth golden brown. Cool in the pan for one minute, then remove and serve warm, or cool completely on a wire rack.

Crumb Topping
1/2 stick slightly softened butter
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup AP flour
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Using a fork, mash together all ingredients until soft, dry crumbles form. Vary the sizes (some large clumps, some finer crumbs), and use your fingers if you need to.

*And welcome to anyone visiting from Oh Joy! (Thank you Joy, for the link!) I hope you are not disappointed -- she is much classier than I am.

Like getting underwear for Christmas - You need it. But you don't want it.

As I try to buy more time, for no particular reason, I realized that it is the season for baked goods to be made and foisted on others. If you've been waiting to try recipes, from this site or any other, here's my list of Chunk Town's finest. Party up. Sit down. Full recipes and photos at each link.

Salt Lick Bars (Millionaire's Shortbread) -- I plan on making these myself, but topping them with grey and pink salt. You're welcome.
Chocolate Striped Oatmeal, Almond and Toffee Cookies -- Everyone loves a confection as large as an infant's face.
Savory Black Pepper, Parmesan and Herb Shortbread -- Savory! Savory.
Super Sugar Cookies -- The original crinkly classic, they taste like butter and the hair of angels.
Spice Cookies with Orange-Nutmeg Glaze -- Eat these in the library with your lover, or silverfish.
Chocolate Chunk Cookies -- Make these with peppermint bark, or red and green M&M's, or your dog's toenails.
Blonde Leading the Blonde Bars -- I think Christmas is all about follicle stereotypes.

Paging Lee Fiora: Braeburn Apple Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Icing

"We went back to get him, at the rest stop, before continuing on to Grandma and Grandpa's house. But that was the last time your brother ever said your father's head smelled like the bathroom after the neighbor with lactose sensitivities used it. He rode in silence for the rest of the trip."

"Wow, mom."

I have a crush that is so bad and so fierce that Tyra Banks just cut off all its hair. All I want to do is think about it and talk about it, live it. I am horrible and pathetic and I can't stop.

I am a Curtis Sittenfeld character.

While I attempt to get it together (Come visit me like Cross Sugarman. In the night!), please enjoy Fall, and these cupcakes. They went over well, except everybody thought they were pumpkin.

Hope all is lovely.

Braeburn Apple Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Icing
Adapted from SB/TB

1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated white sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 egg
1/2 cup Canola Oil (I used Spectrum)
1 cup unsweetened, chunky applesauce (I used storebought Braeburn, though homemade would be wonderful)
1 1/2 cups AP flour
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
1 teaspoon baking soda

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Sift together the flour, spices (cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, allspice) and soda. Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the brown and granulated sugars, egg and oil until well-beaten and smooth. Add the vanilla extract and stir until combined. Add the flour mixture and applesauce alternately, beginning and ending with flour, mixing just until flour disappears and batter is a uniform brown. Spoon or scoop into a lined 12-cup cupcake pan -- I got exactly 12 cupcakes from this recipe, but depending on the size of your cups, this could vary by 1 or 2. You can also grease and flour a round cake pan and pour the batter in that, baking for slightly longer (until toothpick comes out clean and top springs back gently when touched) and then frost, or just sift powdered sugar over the top.

But we're dealing with small cakes today, class.

Bake for 10-15 minutes, checking after 10, just until toothpicks inserted in the middle and edge cupcakes come out clean or with dry crumbs clinging. No wet batter. Remove from oven and cool in pan for 5 minutes, then gently remove and cool completely on a rack.

Cream Cheese Icing
8 oz Cream Cheese, slightly softened (take it out of the fridge 10 minutes prior)
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 1/2 to 2 cups sifted powdered sugar

For the icing, beat together (don't whip) the cream cheese and vanilla extract with an electric mixer (stand or hand) on medium speed until smooth. Add the cinnamon. Then gradually add the powdered sugar until you've reached a sweetness and stiffness level you're satisfied with. Frost cooled cupcakes generously, slather them, obscenely. Enjoy.   

"It's Coook-EEEEE TIIII-uh-MMMME!!": Chocolate Striped Oatmeal, Almond and Toffee cookies

"You come down right now. RIGHT NOW. Just like your father. Avoiding things by climbing water towers. Christmas will be back next year, DON."

I can't even talk about it. I am so lame right now, that it is blowing my mind. The point where you go "Seriously, what is it going to take," where you're playing Camp Counselor to your own brain, and then that part of you that reminds you of that one girl in the Unicorn shirt back in tenth grade who was always crying to teachers in the hallway about nothing, really? And then entering stuff in the art show? Shows up. I'm able to say that I was not fond of that girl, she made me uneasy like coyotes make me uneasy, meaning during the day you could probably get away but at night it's a whole different reason to leave the house with a cheese grater and corkscrew, and so when my brain acts all "I just really need to talk to you, Mrs. Levert" I am freaked out and sickened on two different all-beef patty levels.

Do you know what fixes that? Kid Nation fixes that. RIGHT UP.

Besides Mad Men, I don't watch a lot of television. I'll catch The Hills in morning-after reruns, and I like it when Diddy forms a sweatshop song-and-dance gang, I will watch Giada De Laurentiis wherever she goes (I have this intense adoration of her clothing, precise and yet sometimes incorrect adjective use and that she is kind of Lifetime Movie intense about how many bites of food she actually puts in her mouth). I also watch the news, and sometimes "Katie and Peter" but then I get sad about Harvey. "He's blind and has a disease and a mirror fell on him and I think he was also scalded by the bathtub taps. I'm serious. He's also three."

So I don't know what that says about me, that I like stylized melodramas and British breast implants? Thinly-veiled food issues and choreography learned with the aide of threats and sleep deprivation? Add this: Every time Anna Nicole's part shows up when I'm listening to "New Workout Plan" I do the sign of the cross. And then, top it off with this confection -- I wanted to have a child the minute one of the eight year olds began to cry on "Kid Nation" tonight.

Here's the thing: I read "Baby Island" maybe fifteen times in my youth. Then I read that BSC Super Special where Dawn and Claudia and baby JAMIE NEWTON are stranded on one of New York's many uninhabited yet accessible islands, and they collect water in old juice boxes and catch tiny fish. Fourth and fifth grade, I had this whole idea that somehow my crush(es) (Justin B and Justin K, Drew and this kid named Nathan who I drew portraits of and dreamed of starring in a remake of Amy Grant's "Every Heartbeat" video with) would end up in a situation where we would be in charge of infants and surviving/avoiding death and also, wearing swimsuits the whole time.

So when I heard about Kid Nation, and the ages of those involved I was like "This is going to be crazy, those baby girls have been dreaming about this since they finished Little House on Plum Creek and Farm Boy." All Bolts of Calico and Oxen and boys named 'Manzo. Horehound candy (Hard in the middle!). Patty pans. You know? Pa nailing tarps to the walls and Mary with her un-calloused fingertips embroidering with silk threads. CARRIE'S SO DELICATE! Carry her slate.

The show did not fake me out. When the 10 and 11 year old girls, too old to cry in daylight and too young to care about impressing the 15 year old guys in the Peruvian ear-flap hats with braces, squealed over running a store my throat jumped, a little. They were so excited to be in charge of the rock candy and sour balls. Who wouldn't be.

But what was worse, or better, were the 8 year olds. One little guy had a single front tooth, maybe his first adult tooth so it looked like someone shoved a chunk of white chocolate up in his gums. He was very serious, all the time. Another little girl did nothing but "Woo-hoo" during her interview, and she wore a kerchief all the time. She was as tall as your thumb and put a hand to her heart when she walked into the store for the first time. And this other little man? With the curly moppet hair and conviction, and need to go home to a parent who would make sure he was changing his pants and knew it was pretty important to do so on a regular basis? Broke my heart when they found him behind a building, crying.

In a shameful way, too. I found myself wondering why no one had taken the youngest ones under their wings, and when that did happen I did the single, clenched-throat clap like men who used to run track or have strong opinions on javelin do during the summer Olympics. I wanted them to be warm, to have enough food in their bellies ("He didn't get a PANCAKE!") and be kind to one another. I also wanted the 11 year old with the black cowboy hat on the council to shut his blustery, pre-pubescent mouth in a fierce way, where I was wondering how many times I could be forgiven for hoping someone punched him. When the older boy, of the Peruvian ear-flap hat, stared him down and then put a finger on his chin I was awestruck. I was so impressed, by that move and my dislike of both of them. You know the older kid has had that done to him before, by someone taller, older, who didn't care and found it all hilarious. Either that or he is every foe of "The Mighty Ducks", come to life and formed in human flesh with underbite issues.

I have revealed too much about myself in this entry. Go now. Seriously. You can make these cookies, which are delicious and really nice, but just go. Turn out the light and leave me here, thinking about figure skating and the Troop Beverly Hills cookie concert. Let's all wave cash at the 12 year old in the Tina Turner Wig. Babies need money tonight.

Chocolate Striped Oatmeal, Almond and Toffee cookies
Adapted from Torie Hallock/Martha Stewart

Cookies
1 1/2 cups rolled oats (not quick-cooking)
1 1/2 cups AP flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 pound (two sticks) just-softened butter
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
1 egg

1/2 cup sliced almonds
1 heaping cup of roughly chopped chocolate-covered toffee candy (I used Daim candies, from IKEA)

Chocolate Drizzle
3/4 cup semi or bittersweet chocolate chips
1 teaspoon heavy cream

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Cream together the butter and sugars with a stand/hand mixer until fluffy. Crack in the egg and add the salt, vanilla and almond extracts and mix just until combined. Add the flour, baking soda, mix until incorporated and then add the oats, almonds and chocolate-toffee pieces. You may need to switch to a wooden spoon if you're using a hand mixer. Fold in the oats, almonds and candy until distributed evenly throughout the dough, then scoop out balls of dough with a tablespoon measure, or an ice cream scoop for saucer-sized cookies. Plop on a parchment or Silpat lined sheet pan and bake until edges are golden brown and middles just set, anywhere (depending on size) from 10 to 17 minutes. Check after ten.

When the cookies are done, remove and cool (on the sheet) for five minutes, then transfer one by one, or just slide the sheet of parchment, cookies and all, onto a wire rack to continue cooling completely. If cookies crack or break apart, gently nudge them back together -- they'll crisp up and rejoin as they cool.

In a microwave safe cup or small bowl, melt the chocolate chips and cream, stirring every 20 seconds until smooth and "pipeable" -- you want to be able to drizzle or pipe the mixture over the cookies. Transfer to a parchment cone, small piping bag, or plastic sandwich bag with the corner chopped off -- make the point smaller than you think you should, as chocolate will ooze out with no reservations. With a steady hand, drizzle the chocolate over each cookie, back and forth or in any other design that you desire. Cool until set, then enjoy.   

"Your biscuits are so savory, Giiiirrrrlll"

"Butter my back."

"I have to finish painting over your mural."

I apologize, in advance, for the vulgarity of this entry. Some of you just want to make biscuits for your children, or street urchins. Scroll down. I know you're good people, who don't watch TV and mill your own grains. I have no wish to hurt you. The recipe is there, for your gentle eyes. Otherwise, read on, brother.

One of the most uncomfortable situations someone can find herself in is one where she's witness to someone who decides to participate in the time-honored activity of making food/female-anatomy/sex metaphors. Either insulting or wildly off base, they make things really uncomfortable for all parties involved. You usually don't know this guy, but check it, 3 am, his knowledge needs to be shared, with ALL the ladies, and with you, right? Am I right? Am I RIGHT, BRO?

"I guess I don't really get why you're comparing Non-Dairy Creamer tubs to breasts. Are all the 'fine bitches' in the Hotcake House conical and lactating tonight?"

Lately The Hills are alive with this, as Spencer decided to take it upon himself to spread word across this great land, through the carrier pigeons of mass media (USweekly, InTouch, OK! Life & Style, IlliteracyN'Fashun), that his arch nemesis was rocking deli meat in her pants.

"SPENCER SAYS: 'LC'S SMUGGLING FLANK STEAKS IN HER TRUE RELIGIONS'".

He insinuated that she had Bovine Meat Drapery somewhere on her body. I know. You know. I know you're watching it, and that you're wondering why Spencer hasn't been sent to Dr. Phil's "Man Camp", and why Heidi's parents haven't called in one Mr. Jeff from "Intervention", before things get crazy. "My name is Heidi. H-E-I-D-I."

What do you do in that situation? In any situation where you are not only publicly demeaned by someone who has no idea what he's talking about, but who still decides to make it as humiliating as possible. There's no "Let's do it Day Camp style, make sure your mom sends you with extra pants", no easing in, no "LC sounded like a Canadian Teen Actress in the second season", or "She has small, cruel teeth. Like a chupacabra."As evidenced by the rock his lady is sporting, Spencer goes big and then goes home, where he pays someone mutilate his walls with spray paint like they're the back of a jean jacket and the year is 1989.

In LC's case, she's Thank-Jesus got one Lo Bosworth (2:25) back in her life, and also, letting Heidi slowly wilt under the radiant Spencer Heat, until she's doing things like wearing pink converse with a pink t-shirt and white shorts and white anklets out in public. I don't think there could be better revenge, besides maybe calling Spencer "Logan Bruno's Crawlspace Cousin" the next time he "rolls up" on her at Le Deux.

"Leh-Doo."

Or waiting a few years, maybe five, maybe ten, until that day his daughter asks him why he's so mean to girls.

Or just make some biscuits, LC, and smother them with pain gravy.

Biscuits
Adapted from AllRecipes

2 cups AP flour, sifted
1 Tablespoon baking powder, leveled
1 Tablespoon granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon Kosher salt
1/3 cup cultured, salted butter, slightly softened
1 cup milk, buttermilk or a mixture of milk/cream

Sift or stir together the dry ingredients, in a large bowl. With a fork, knives or pastry-cutter, cut in the butter until you have a mixture that resembles coarse meal -- if a few pea-sized lumps of butter remain, that's absolutely kosher. Place the flour/butter mixture in the fridge for 30 minutes.

Remove the flour from the fridge and preheat your oven to 425 degrees F. Stream the cold milk, buttermilk or milk/cream into the flour mixture, stirring as you do. The dough should form easily, and depending on the weather, humidity and brand of flour you're working with you may need less or more than the full cup -- I only needed a little over 3/4 of a cup. When the dough has pulled in all the flour, and is pulling away from the sides of the bowl, you're done. Turn out onto a floured counter or board and knead exactly 10 times. Pat into a disc and roll into an oval that is around 1 inch thick, and cut into rounds with a floured biscuit cutter, knife or drinking glass. Or monocle.

You can gently re-roll any scraps, until you don't have enough left to form a single biscuit. Place each cut biscuit on an ungreased baking sheet and bake for 10-13 minutes, or until just golden brown around the top and bottom edges. Remove and cool for 1 minute, then serve warm, to friends, family, wild dogs.

Backfat Buns: Sticky Orange and Pecan Honeybuns

"I feel like we need to double-glaze everything now."

"Keys."

"Newborns."

We have had guests for the past week, and I have been making breakfast for them.

Usually I eat a bowl of Kashi Heart 2 Heart with skim milk every morning. I also wear high-waisted beige, full-bottom briefs and my bra is actually a life jacket. I don't leave the house without a catcher's mask and sometimes I wear knee-socks on my hands. That's the exciting girl described by the breakfast above. Side Note -- I like Heart 2 Heart best because it doesn't remind me of Hamster Food, and there are no creepy, maybe dangerous, smiling people on the box.

vs.

"Good Friends! Finding you! In the night."

This week I took off the knee-pads and preventative ankle braces and got to work. This week I was up before 7:30 on most days, making pancakes with wild blueberry and fresh cherry compotes, Gruyere and Herb frittata with sauteed garlic tomatoes, oven home fries and finally the above -- Sticky Orange and Pecan Honeybuns.

I also made a cheesecake, but that was for lunch.

Of all of them, and to no great surprise, the buns won. As they always do, especially if you believed The E! Channel circa '01-'04, also known as "The Lopez Reign".

These buns start with the most-terrific, creamy, yeasty Fosters Market Dough, which can be made two weeks in advance and kept in arrested development in the fridge, tightly covered. Once you let it come to room temperature and roll, rise, it blooms into golden knots in the oven. I have never met an all-purpose dough I like as much as this, especially since it can be altered (to the small specifications I had) to suit the recipe's taste. For this recipe, I made the full batch of dough, scenting it with orange and speckling it with vanilla bean seeds. But you can make it as is, or use any of Sara Foster's adaptations, all available on the site.

Nothing is groundbreaking about these rolls, besides the double-saturation issue. While they may seem like decent, God-Fearing sticky buns at first glance, what turns these into decadent gut-bombs is the additional, all-sugar glaze that seals in moistness before the caramelized gunk is turned out over their prettily formed tops. They are delicious, with none of the embarrassing, mid-morning dryness issues other Sticky Buns deal with from time to time. Reheat them in a low oven the next morning, and you're golden. All without a prescription.

I use only 1/2 the dough created by following the Fosters' Market recipe each time I make these buns, meaning that there's a good chance that four or five days after you first experience these, you'll have a reason to do so again. The filling, topping and glaze amounts listed are for 1/2 the dough yield, and feel free to double if you want to go crazy and make even more people hate you.

I like to do that in increments. Savor it.

Sticky Orange and Pecan Honeybuns
Dough adapted from Fosters' Market Recipe

Dough:
Prepare the recipe mentioned above -- Don't halve it, even though the amounts for the filling, topping and glaze listed below are for only 1/2 the amount of dough you will end up with.

However, to the milk, add an additional 1 1/2 Tablespoons of sugar, the zest from 1/2 an orange, half of a split vanilla bean, and after removing from the heat and cooling slightly (before adding to the yeast), add 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract. Prepare and rise as directed, then cut in half and store either one or both halves in the fridge, in a buttered bowl, tightly covered. Or, after the first rise, use one half immediately and proceed with the recipe, following the steps below.

Filling:
1/2 stick Unsalted butter, softened (You may use more, you may use less)
3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/2 cup chopped pecans
2 teaspoons ground, good-quality Cinnamon
1/3 cup Clover Honey
Zest from 1/2 an orange

Topping:
2 Tablespoons Unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup dark brown sugar
1/4 cup Clover Honey
1/2 (heaping) cup pecans (I chop half of them, and leave the rest whole)

Roll the dough into a long, even oblong rectangle or oval. The dough will be around 1/4 inch thick and 17-18 inches in length, from longest point to longest point. Smear generously with butter, using the back of a spoon and making sure to cover the entire surface, including the edges. Scatter evenly with brown sugar, Cinnamon and sprinkle with the orange zest and pecans. Drizzle the dough's surface with honey, and then roll vertically, starting from the longest side, into a tight, compact snake. Pinch the edges shut, and use your hands to lightly even out any thicker or parts. Cut off 1/2 inch of dough on each end (these have little to no filling), and then cut the snake into 1 1/2 inch logs.

Thickly butter the bottom and sides of a 9-inch, heavy aluminum round cake pan. Pat brown sugar in the bottom of the pan, evenly, and scatter with pecans and drizzle with honey. Set the rolls in, making sure they're close together, and don't worry about any gaps or spaces -- especially around the outside of the pan. Cover rolls with a slightly dampened (and wrung dry) dish towel and allow to rise for 15-20 minutes in a warm space.

Meanwhile, preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

Bake the risen rolls for 20-30 minutes, checking after 15, until golden brown, risen and the filling/topping is bubbling away like crazy. Remove from the oven and cool for two minutes, then use tongs to remove each roll from the pan and place on a platter -- if you like, you can invert the whole thing and call it done.

But I'm not that kind of girl.

Glaze:
1 cup powdered sugar, softened
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2-3 Tablespoons fresh orange juice
1/2 teaspoon fresh orange zest

Mix together, adding more orange juice if needed until you have an opaque, lightly-thickened icing.

Once the buns are arranged on your chosen plate, dry-side up, evenly trickle the glaze over the tops, allowing it to sink in and coat the sides of the buns.

Now, grasp the edge of the pan with a pot-holder clad hand and tip over the buns, allowing the remaining sticky honey-brown sugar gunk to swirl out and dump over the rolls. Scrape any stray pecans on top. Immediately run hot water in the empty pan, and serve your guests.

 

"So you think you can eat your way out of San Quentin": New, this Fall from FOX.

"That's great, Frank. I'm just of the mind that when someone leaves cream filling on the couch, they clean it up."

Wow, this past weekend I went Thrift shopping and found myself eighty years old. Like a Hallmark Channel movie that was released in 2005 but shot in 97, so everyone's wearing prune colored lipstick, metallic bubble jackets, baby barrettes and silver eyeshadow, because that was what the future was, slightly gangster prostitutes. I aged right in the aisles.

I have NO love for people who can't handle themselves among overpriced glassware and fifteen copies of "White Oleander" and "My Friend Leonard". Treasures like a DANSK dutch oven (which sounds like something some dude who spent some time in Amsterdam tries to convince you of on a Saturday night, on the hide-a-bed in his friends studio, I'm speculating, all the dudes I know went to Spain. "This is called the Saffron revelation.") and a DVD copy of "Blue Crush" (which I already own but I need one for my purse. So I will never be without my generation's finest, motivational "You can do a pro football player AND be a surfer and poor and live right on the water in Hawaii" surfing drama ever made) went untouched, while I limited my acquisitions to a set of squat, speckled creamy salt and pepper shakers with aqua and light green rims. Very seventies. I like them. A single, amber glass because I love them. And another thin, smooth-sided glass beaker with a wide mouth and cork topper that is probably available at Pier 1 right now, but I like finding all different sizes at various Goodwills and speculating on what someone used them for before me. Right now, I think one was used for Quinoa and another for Crack Rocks.

A tiny bit ago, I wrote a simpering entry on building a bomb shelter with my sisters, because End Times must be coming -- we're all home for the summer. Well, the seal has broken and we're all beginning to scratch the screens out. Like with our toenails. Rustic.

We were planning a brief vacation this weekend, but it fell through and so we decided to grill at home, to honor those who were spending time near an actual water source. We ate wet carrots swabbed with white-bean and garlic dip, sharp with lemon and parsley, while chicken rubbed with paprika, garlic, black pepper and kosher salt smoked in the Weber. I made baked macaroni and cheese, vinegary slaw and for dessert, Whoopie Pies.

I haven't been baking a lot, because of So You Think You Can Dance. Watching 18 year olds (and I am finally old enough to recognize the slight difference between an 18 year old, lifetime dancer and myself, all of waning 24 years old) writhe around in chemises and rhinestone-spangled illusion mesh fabric is kind of not awesome when it comes to self esteem. I asked Father the other night when I could stop wearing his flannel shirts and work jeans, and maybe buy some of that flowery shampoo the other girls use at school and not the soap made from rendered bacon fat he melts himself, in old soup cans, but he told me that he needed another bone toothpick, and so I had to go find one in the trash pail.

Not really, but I did decide to make myself a WWSYTYCDD? bracelet, and so far I think it involves not eating bullshit. Literally.

But it was needed, baking, and so I did it. Whoopie Pies, like their southern cousins Moon Pies, have been on my to-make list and unlike the Moonies, which I had plans to deconstruct and glamorize, I wanted to try Whoopie Pies for the first time as they are. The recipe I used produced fine results -- they were beautiful, and after the first batch of smaller ones, I knew to take them out right before they were done. They can dry out fast, but even if you don't overbake them, they're unremarkable on their own. It takes a plop of light, airy filling (originally shortening-based), and a slight smush to make these into something else. Something dangerous.

They're fun to eat. Pinkies raised, filling oozes out the sides and tongues flick, catching it at the corners and top of lips. You can edge the filling back between the cookies, or lick it immediately and make up for it later.

The recipe used was the unadulterated vision of Tish Boyle, available over at the fine Leite's Culinaria. A few notes, though:

1.  The batter, when I was done with it, was too loose to "form into balls and shape" with my hands. I used scoops, a large one at first, and when that batch came out larger than an infant's skull ("Find a baby. Find a baby so we can document it. You could make a baby wear that, one of those. Like a cap. JAUNTY."), I switched to a smaller "cookie scoop" I bought at Target. You could also probably buy that baby, for testing, at Target.

2. What world do we live in where any recipe makes the stated amount. 28 sandwiches, Tish. Really. Really. I got 14 small ones, and three huge ones, which are scheduled for "Maury" on the 5th. Check your local listings.

3. I changed the filling. My recipe is below, and while it is a completely bastardized version of what I've heard whoopie pie filling actually is (marshmallow/egg white base, or Crisco), it was light and beautiful and made the unremarkable cookies much more.

Whoopie Pie Filling
1 stick softened salted butter
2 1/2 cups sifted, powdered sugar
2 oz cream cheese
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 1/2 Tablespoons heavy cream

Powdered sugar, for sifting

Cream together the butter and 1 1/2 cups of the powdered sugar. Add more sugar by the quarter cup, until you like the consistency -- the cream and vanilla will thin it somewhat, so don't worry about it being too thick, or "crumbly". Add the vanilla, and cream, and whip until smooth. Now add the cream cheese, and blend until completely combined, and no lumps remain. At this point, if the filling is too thick, add a little cream, too thin, a little more powdered sugar. You want it significantly lighter than a cupcake frosting, and very "whippy".

Plop a decent amount of filling on the underside of half of the cooled, overturned cookies -- I used a small scoop, you could use a Tablespoon with no issues besides mild dryness of the mouth and liver failure. Call your doctor if either of these symptoms persist. Top with the other army of darkness/cookies, and sift gently with a tablespoon or so of powdered sugar if desired.

Whoop, there it is.

"Everything is better wrinkled: Dogs, old people, and chocolate chip cookies"

"Those cookies remind me of Grandpa's hands. Like if he had amputated fingers. Why aren't you eating?"

For Father's Day we had a cookout, and it was lovely. I have lived in the rainy, valley-gut of Oregon for my entire life and the weather was perfect -- brief breaks of sun, a thick cloud cover and cool air that carried the smoke away from the open windows. Summer is here, and all three of us, my two sisters and I, are home this summer.

We've kind of hunkered down, as something turns and lowers inside of us, letting us know that it is good to anchor close to home for these three months, to spend time together and laugh, stay up late and eat dinner and lunch out, to branch off in twos and discuss the other, to come together as three and make up again and start the whole thing over again. When September lazes in, living arrangements will change, school will start up, questions that have been put on pause will have to be answered, who knows? But this summer, right now, we are fine just being sisters, together, bitching and laughing and hugging and holding court, watching "Rob and Big" marathons and wandering around dressed for no one, "borrowing" clothing and comparing makeup stashes, making mean comments about each others sunglasses.

The day someone has something negative to say about my vintage Ray-Ban royal blue plastic aviators is the day we have a problem.

The older of my two younger sisters is 21, and is the most fun to watch when she returns. She walks in and her shoulders drop, her chin lifts and she begins to squeak around, looking for food. If people are eating, she edges "bites" off of their plates, drops her mouth and chomps to the quick of your nails, devouring half the sandwich you are holding. She couldn't make it in time (finals and work) for the start of our Father's Day celebration and called, demanding to know the status of the food, wanting to know how much was left of what, and what she had missed. The youngest sister answered, already bored by then, unable and unwilling to recount what we had eaten and what we had saved. There was a tiff.

"No, seriously, she was like...'Well...there were a lot of people here,'. And I was like 'Great. Shut up. You've totally managed to make me love you even more, with that display of kindness.' Champion behavior. Just straight Champ behavior."

Of course there was food left, and when my bird of a sister slunk into the dark house, warm with laughter and amber bottles, she made herself a plate first, before any hugs, before any pointed looks and spilled laughter. But there was plenty of that, too.

These cookies have nothing to do with the above. I made them for something else, and while I thought I was following my standard recipe, it was eleven-thirty at night and I forgot a significant amount of flour. Luckily, they mutated into something just as nice. Like people who try to get you to eat fish from the Willamette, "They're just as good! Extra gills mean extra flavor." If you love a wrinkly, thin and toffee-flavored cookie, you will love this.

T(hin)W(rinkly)C(chewy) Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 cup (2 sticks) softened butter
2 cups packed light-brown sugar
6 tablespoons granulated white sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 1/2 cups of AP flour, dip and sweep method
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon pure almond extract
2 1/2 cups of mixed chocolate chips or chunks (I used Guittard's semisweet and milk chocolate)

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F.

In a large bowl, cream the butter, brown sugar and white sugar together until fluffy and creamy, around 1-2 minutes. Crack in the eggs one by one, blending until you've got a light-brown, whipped mass. Add the vanilla and almond extracts. Maybe add some hair.

Sift in the flour, baking powder and soda, salt and mix until combined. Fold in the chocolate, and then using a cookie scoop or a tablespoon measure, scoop out rounded balls and place on an ungreased (you could use parchment) light-colored half-sheet pan. I did two rows of three, and that gave them ample room to spread.

Bake for ten minutes, check, and what you should have are wrinkly, golden-brown edges and a little cluster of melty chips in the center. If you don't have that, bake a little longer and check after two more minutes -- if you like a crisp cookie, do the same. But if you don't, and if you were under the impression that you had in fact followed a recipe that had never yielded these results, feel free to pull the pan from the oven and stare at it. Stare at it, wonder why you're not wearing pants, and why you never cared to pay attention in eighth grade French Class, leaving you a singular lingual failure.

After that, carefully use a spatula to shrug the cookies off of the pan, and move to a cooling rack. If you've used parchment, this will be fully easy -- you could even slide the parchment off of the pan and later, peel the cookies off with ease. If you didn't, again. You've failed your family.

Which is the sweetest taste.

Obvious, practical dessert for a 93 degree day: Berry Crisp

"He's melting all over himself...Oh my god. Oh my GOD."

Yesterday at four-thirty in the afternoon I decided I wanted to bake. It was 91 degrees.

My reasons for doing that kind of gross thing:
I had some new Buffalo China ramekins
There was no one to physically restrain me from turning on the oven

That's how awesome my brain is, son. That's some Stephen Hawking logic there. I am Doogie Howser right now. My computer has a green screen, I'm 14, and I am smarter than my dad. Let me legally change my name to Clarissa, and then I'll Explain It All. 

The ramekins or custard cups, as I like to call them, were the driving force. Two weeks ago I got it into my head that I needed some Buffalo China, either mugs or bowls, something -- My Paper Crane did a post on how her sweet sir bought two mugs from their favorite restaurant for her, for her birthday and it was all it took to drive the tangible longing for that heavy, smooth weight in my hand. I love Buffalo china, warm with liquid or out of the dishwasher, how your hands mold to it.

How you could probably smash a car windshield, and/or pie and cake case with it. Crazy things happen at three in the morning in the parking lot of your local Pie House. I'm just saying.

So I had the vessels, and then Deb over at SmittenKitchen posted about crumbles and it all came together. Her entry is wonderful, at explaining all the good things about these desserts. So why not bake a hot fruit dessert on a 91 degree day? Then I wrapped my entire body in flannel sheets and sat under a heat lamp in the bathroom with all the windows shut. And started a fire in the sink, so I could make some hobo chili.

 

A few notes:

- I halved the topping recipe, and substituted brown sugar for white sugar, omitting most of the demera sugar called for because I only had one packet of Sugar In The Raw left. Even after piling on the topping, which came together beautifully, I had enough left for another one. Just bag it up and freeze.
- Any fruit will do. Anything. I used a mixture of frozen Wild Blueberries and Raspberries, unsweetened.
- They were really, really lovely. A few dollops of vanilla frozen yogurt, and it all went down so smooth and tart, the crumble not too sweet and the berries still plump.

Deuce Berry Crisp
Adapted from Deb/Nigella Lawson

Base
1 ½ cups frozen whole, unsweetened raspberries
½ cup frozen, unsweetened wild blueberries
1 tablespoon + 1 teaspoon cornstarch
½ teaspoon orange zest
½ teaspoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon salt

Topping
¾ cup AP flour
4 Tablespoons brown sugar
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
½ stick European-style butter, melted
Dash of ground cinnamon
Pinch of kosher salt
Orange zest (optional, I used one "scrape" across the microplane)

Preheat your oven to 350º F. Line a small pan or baking sheet with foil or parchment, and select your baking vessels. My cups hold just around 1 cup.

Mix together the berries, cornstarch (omit the teaspoon if using fresh fruit, or leave it in depending on how cohesive you want your filling to be), orange zest, lemon zest, sugars, vanilla and salt until well combined. Divide berry mixture between each cup. This is it. At this point, you're above the law.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, sugars, cinnamon and orange zest, if using. Stream the melted butter into the mixture, and using your fingers or a fork, mash together until butter is absorbed and large clumps have formed among the smaller pebbles and dust. Pile as much topping on top of each dish as you like -- In the end, my layers were almost equal. Freeze any extra in a plastic bag, and use soon.

Bake your crisps in/on the lined pan, uncovered, for 1/2 an hour or until the juices are warm and bubbly, and the top is golden brown. Remove and allow to cool for three to five minutes, before serving.

I suggest topping with frozen yogurt or ice cream, and then forgetting to brush your teeth so people think you've been drinking Blueing, like you think you're so cool and living the life of Ramona Quimby, as a twenty-something. And then you can find yourself a Howie, and cut his hair with pinking shears.