Warm up the stand mixer, mama!

After a long and foolish hiatus during which I starved myself and ate very little chocolate, I'm dusting off my baking skills and thinking about maybe enjoying life once in a while.

Exhibit A:  a chocolate ganache frosted cake.  The thing that really got me going last weekend was the fact that I'd promised a cake to the folks coordinating a fundraiser at the boys' school.  Well, one boy still goes there.  Reluctantly at first, I baked and then frosted a chocolate cake using my mama's good old-fashioned chocolate frosting recipe.  Equally as reluctantly, the boys turned the cake over to the fundraiser people.  My oldest stepson did make a valiant attempt to win the cake back, but his efforts were in vain.  Luckily for him, stepmama had an even more decadent cake on her mind, and I went to work on it that very afternoon.

The kids snacked on some mini-cupcakes (frosted with mom's basic frosting) while I baked the second cake and put together the ganache.  Ganache, as you know, is just chocolate melted in hot cream.  Many smarter people go by an actual recipe, but I just keep pouring chocolate chips into the hot cream and stirring until it "looks right."  You have to let it cool down to 68 degrees F (I use a digital meat thermometer) if you wanna frost cakes with it, but if you catch it at around 70 degrees F, you might be able to pour the ganache over the cakes for a smooth glistening chocolate outer coating.  The more glistening, the better.  So, I don't have a recipe for my ganache, but I will post here the recipe for my mom's never fail chocolate frosting recipe, because some lucky cake-walk winner out there probably really enjoyed it!

Mom's Chocolate Frosting
1 cup softned butter
1/8 tsp salt
3 cups confectioners sugar
3 oz unsweetened chocolate
1/4 cup milk
1 1/2 tsp vanilla

Beat butter with 1 cup of confectioners sugar until fluffy. Melt chocolate.  Allow chocolate to cool.
Blend chocolate into butter mixture.  Add rest of sugar, alternating with milk.  Add vanilla.

Pooh Cake

My first baby shower cake.

I based it on this map of the Hundred Acre Wood as illustrated by E.H. Shepard.

As I was plotting how to do this, I faced a number of problems. One, I had to use fondant. There was no other way to really execute the map. I knew I could water down the food coloring and get a good approximation of "paint" but it simply wouldn't have worked on regular old butter cream. I had to use fondant. I hate fondant. I've worked with the store bought stuff before and it tastes about as good as modeling clay. I needed something that behaved like modeling clay and could create a smooth canvas for my painting, but I didn't want to sacrifice flavor.

So, I'd been reading of this marshmallow fondant on various blogs and it sounded like a good deal--and pretty simple. Here's a link to the recipe on Cake Journal. One tip: when you're ready to roll it out, sprinkle sifted powdered sugar on your counter. That seemed to be the only way to get it off the board in one piece.

The other problem was paint. I was very concerned that it would bleed. I'd read somewhere that adding grain alcohol to food coloring would prevent that since it would evaporate quickly, just leaving behind the color. I didn't have any grain alcohol, so I used strawberry vodka, which seemed appropriate.

Once the cake was frosted, I draped the rolled out fondant onto it, trimmed, tucked, and set to work painting. I treated it like watercolor painting--blocking out white space for later painting and then applied some color washes in spots that I would later define with more layers of color or outline in black as in the Shepard illustration.

It was another one of those all-night-ers and the big bummer was that I had to be at the hospital early the next morning for pre-op testing (did I mention this dang gall bladder is coming out on Tuesday next? Yay!!) Alas, a gal has to have a nice cake at her baby shower. And I was determined that it should be so for my work colleague.

Ultimately, we had a very nice shower for her. Lovely flowers in vases, doilies, delicious snacks, loads of presents, and yes, the cake wasn't half-bad either.

Tea party with Pookie

Ah, memories. I made these cream scones with chocolate chips a while back. Olivia and I set up the pretty table cloth and made some berry tea. We munched on these and sipped "delicately" from our franciscan rose tea cups.

The girl likes a good tea party and we all love a good cream scone. I won't be eating one of these again for a while. Especially not topped with luscious clotted cream.

Olivia's Un-birthday

The only successful thing about the Un-birthday was the cake. The concept was fun. The invitations were irresistible. It was just another blah winter day that was in severe need of cheerfulness. And what did we get? Snow. A simple dusting of snow was enough to keep Olivia's little friends away. Both our little invitees live in the country. I guess country roads are treacherous in just a little dusting of snow. Go figure.


I've combined a lot of learning into this one cake. Over the last year, I've learned from my mother how to make her own special brand of decorative buttercream. Holds it's shape better than regular buttercream, but still tastes great. She's also schooled me in the delicate art of forming roses from this frosting. I'd watched her do roses all my life, never really considering that I might one day try my hand at it.


It's a two layer yellow cake, frosted at first in a layer of Mom's buttercream, chilled, then coated with room-temperature ganache. To be precise, the ganache was at 68 degrees Farenheit. I used a digital thermometer. I followed the instructions in Nick Malgieri's "Chocolate," with excellent results. If I'd just chilled the cake shortly after letting the ganache set, it could have been perfect. As it was, I left it out and proceeded to decorate the top with my battalion of pink and red roses, dark purple sugar-studded violets, and bright green leaves. My new decorator's kit received heavy usage.


Another time-consuming element of this cake was the individual mixing of different colors and flavoring each color as I saw fit. The green leaves were vanilla peppermint, the pink and red roses were strawberry, and the purple violets were cherry. So, we still ate the sucker. And we still sang the un-birthday song. And we still had a good time. Louis has already made an order for his un-birthday cake--lemon meringue pie, which obviously isn't a cake, but sounds damn good.

Thanksgiving Morning

I am an idiot. Though I'm at death's door, exhausted, and now officially diagnosed with bronchitis, I couldn't bear the thought of pop tarts or donuts for breakfast on Thanksgiving Day. How could I sully this day with a cheap fast breakfast that has about as much culinary intrigue as a bowl of cereal?

So I stayed up late the night before and made a recipe of dough, slightly sweetened, butter as the fat. I always make bread by feel. I maybe followed a recipe the first year or so of my cooking life. Now, I guess it's just one of those things. You know how much toothpaste to put on your brush, and you know how much liquid to add to the flour to make dough. I had it in my head that I would make cinnamon rolls, so I made a mixture of softened butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, and apple sauce. After the first rise, I rolled out the dough in a rectangular shape and slathered with the mixture. Roll it up like a jelly roll, slice into 2 inch rolls and arrange in a buttered springform pan. I sat them out on the enclosed back porch overnight on a 30 degree night. They rose only slightly. I brought them into the kitchen to warm up while I preheated the oven to 375 degrees. I have no idea how long they baked, but when I checked on them later, I knew they were perfect.



These rolls rose a bit more in the oven, just beginning to edge over the top of the pan. After allowing them to cool a bit, I opened the springform pan to reveal the golden brown glory beneath. They were breathtakingly gorgeous. Breaking them apart into "servings" (they were enormous) gave me great pleasure because I could see the very light and yet stable crumb. I added a glaze made of powdered sugar and a bit of milk. Michael and I had ours with a cafe latte. And we ate every bit. The kids seemed pleased, but barely made a dent in their rolls. Now, that is a breakfast worthy of Thanksgiving morning.