Happy Birthday, Alex!

Tomorrow is Alex's birthday, one of my coworkers. So this week's Cake day is dedicated to her. Which made the rest of my lab quite happy as well. Any excuse for sweets in science. In fact, a direct quote from Justin, another of my labmates, this afternoon after yet another failed attempt at an experiment: "Since nothing in my life is working, I'm going to go eat cake." Exactly.

I particularly liked reading this week's chapter, because it mentioned people I knew from the bio department back in college. I stopped for a little to wonder how they were doing, if they're still there, trying to figure out how I can stop by the university one day when school is still in session to see everyone, instead of taking my usual eerily silent walk through the ghost town of campus around the holidays. It also describes the adventures of Dr. Robinson and her friends during a "camp out" for adult women hosted by the Girl Scout organization as a fundraiser. Sounds like my kind of camping: classes included archery, wine tasting, and belly dancing (which her description of made me laugh--a lot), and a catered seafood dinner. Fantastic. They even consult a Ouija board back in their cabin, and I can't help but laugh to myself at the thought of these three grown, mature women, who mentored me through college, giggling like preteen girls over the game board. I wonder if my mom and her friends do this on their get-togethers. I wonder if my friends and I will, after we've had careers, been married, had children, bought houses. I hope we do.

Making this cake was somewhat of its own adventure; I might as well have been in the woods, what with all the spontaneous improvising I had to do. The cake was supposed to be a chocolate cake with peanut butter icing and a chocolate garnish. My first issue, however, was that the recipe called for a jelly roll pan. I don't actually know what a jelly roll is, much less what the pan for one looks like, and I certainly do not own one (my list of required supplies is growing: KitchenAid, second double boiler, jelly roll pan). After a quick 911 call to Google, I decided to just use a 9 x 13 cake pan. They're both... rectangular. The cake itself went smoothly, as did the peanut butter chip frosting. (I think I ate like a gallon of it... it almost didn't make it to the cake.) When I got to the garnish, though, I had some problems. Seemed simple: 1/2 cup chocolate chips, 1 teaspoon of butter. Melt in microwave for 1 minute, drizzle over cake. So I put my chips and butter in a cup and put it in the microwave for 1 minute, took it out and gave it a stir to smooth it out, and... it solidified almost instantly. Strange. Perhaps I didn't add enough butter? So I added a little more butter, and put it back in the microwave for a few seconds. And when I took it out, I had... chocolate carbon. A weird charcoal like substance that had no business on a cake. So I tried again, with another 1/2 cup of chocolate chips. Still not drizzleable. Stubbornly, however, I attempted to drizzle, and just ended up with some chocolate lumps on top of my beautiful peanut butter frosting. What to do? On a whim, I melted the rest of the bag of chocolate chips, plopped it on top of the cake, and spread it out. Ta-da! A layer of chocolate ganache (sort of). The cake looked and smelled so delicious, I was sure no one would be the wiser.


And it was a big hit. We all gathered in the office while Alex cut her cake and we enjoyed slices that were probably too big but rich and delicious. The cake itself is similar to the cake part of the Best Cake Ever. (I'm actually starting to love chocolate cake. Apparently it just needs to be made from scratch and contain sour cream.) The topping was sort of like a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. I could feel the cavities forming in my teeth as I ate.

All in all, a successful Cake Day. I sharpened my improvisation skills, Alex got a birthday treat, and we all got a little something to sweeten up what seems to have been a sad week in science.

Down in the Dumps

"Dump cake. A cake made by 'dumping' the ingredients directly into the baking pan, mixing them, and baking the batter." --John F. Mariani, Encyclopedia of American Food and Drink.

Or, a cake you make when "sad" doesn't begin to describe how you're feeling.

I needed cake today. No time for plans with friends or elaborate dinners. I needed something sweet in my life and I needed it NOW.

I found out that I have a stress fracture in my right hip. I've been on crutches since Friday, and I'll be on crutches for another 1 - 3 months, depending on how the fracture heals. I was scheduled to run 5 races this season; I've already registered, the money is spent and now lost. But not only do I need to stay off my leg, I can't do ANYTHING. No yoga, no biking, not even swimming. I exercise 6 or 7 days a week, and on some of those days, twice. I walk everywhere. And now all I can do is sit. Working out, and especially running, is my stress relief. Plus, I live alone--my family is 700 miles away, my boyfriend is 800, my only roommates are two cats and a turtle. So I'm in a vicious downward cycle--I'm stressed because I can't work out and I'm trying to figure out how to accomplish basic every day errands and work and chores, but I can't relieve the stress because I can't work out. The best option for quick, albeit temporary relief, is clearly cake. So today was an Emergency Cake Day.

I giggled a lot reading this chapter. The Dump Cake is an official Girl Scout sanctioned cake, intended to be made in a standard Girl Scout issue cast iron Dutch oven and cooked over a campfire. (Thankfully, Dr. R has included a home version for those of us who never made it past Daisies.) The chapter tells the story of Dr. R's last Girl Scout camp-out with her youngest daughter, and is so candidly written and full of different emotions that in three short pages, you've found yourself crying, laughing, and swimming in nostalgia. The theme of the camp-out is Survivor, and Dr. R describes the antics of the girls as their teams try to "Outwit, Outplay, and Outlast" with clear motherly affection, and the antics of a few mothers (you know the type) with tongue in cheek.

After reading the chapter I felt a little pang of sadness, but also the tiny seed of determination. This is my Survivor Challenge. I, too, have to "Outwit, Outplay, and Outlast." But instead of two days in the woods, I have 3 months in Life. How will I cook meals, clean my apartment, feed my cats, get groceries, work in a lab while on crutches? How will I cope when I am completely and utterly overwhelmed by frustration, anger, or sadness? Baby steps. The first thing I will do is make a cake.


So I crutch into Kroger, ask the manager if I can put items in my back pack while I shop, grab the unbelievably short list of ingredients for the cake, and reluctantly but gratefully accept the help of an Infectious Disease doctor who complimented my stellar crutch technique to carry my groceries to my car. (Baby step 1: accept help. Still working on Baby Step 2: Ask for it.) I hop a couple times around the kitchen to grab a pan, a spoon, and oven mitts and preheat the oven. I dump all the ingredients into the pan (ok, so the butter was more placed than dumped) and enjoy a good laugh at how ridiculous the pre-baked cake looks. After the Tomato Cake, however, I am wise, and I excitedly put the cake in the oven and distract myself for the hour while it bakes with a book. (The Help, by Kathryn Stockett. Yes, like the movie. Read it. It's better for you.) Soon my whole apartment smells like melting butter, and when the cake comes out of the oven, it is crisp and bubbling. I attempt to wait for the cake to cool enough for me to eat, but after approximately two minutes, I scoop out a small amount.

It's almost like cobbler, sweet and buttery, soft with a perfect crunch on top. So I grab a much bigger scoop, devise a method of furniture surface leap frog to get my plate to the sofa, and eat way too much cake while watching several episodes of Scrubs. The magic of Cake Day settles in; for now, my spirits have lifted and my outlook is not so bleak, I will Survive. It might sound selfish, but I'm glad I kept all the magic for myself this time. I needed to take a moment to take a deep breath and regroup, just me, myself, and cake. (The cake, however, I cannot keep all to myself, as it would be gone in two days, and since I'm not working out, eating an entire cake is probably not a good plan.)


Right now, forget the crutches. I've got cobbler.

Best Cake Ever

That's really all that needs to be said about this cake. It is pastry perfection.

Cake Day this week was Monday, in honor of Labor Day, a day off work, and the closing of a fantastic week with Randy. He helped me bake, by which I mean he spent most of the time sitting in his office chair reading instructions while I ran frantically around the kitchen. However, he did make an excellent photographer, and we played Wii while cake parts were baking and cooling and freezing, so it ended up being a lovely late afternoon together.

This week's recipe was New Orleans Chocolate Cake, chosen by Dr. Robinson at the time as a way to celebrate the city of New Orleans and honor the growing number of victims from Hurricane Katrina, which was pounding the city of New Orleans and the surrounding area at this time during her Year of Cake. Purposely or not, this declaration now forever associates this cake with the memory of that event. Once one has read the chapter, one can never make this cake without remembering for a brief moment the devastation and those who were lost in the horrible storm.


My feelings going into making this cake, however, could not be more opposite. There is no great tragedy in my life right now, and aside from the sadness slowly sneaking in as my impending departure drew nearer, this week had been full of joy and I was ready to celebrate. And this was the perfect cake. It was complicated, and I had to cheat a little--the recipe includes instructions to make a homemade chocolate pudding filling, but I used a box of Jello pudding mix. I didn't have the space, equipment (2 double boilers?!), or time necessary to take on making both a pudding and a cake, and I wanted to keep things simple and easy, so we could enjoy the baking process and being together without getting frustrated over first-time pudding-making.


If my infidelity to the recipe had any negative impact, it was impossible to tell. This was honestly the best cake I have ever eaten. The chocolate cake itself is moist and rich, likely from the addition of sour cream. A simple, light whipped cream frosting makes the perfect topping, adding just a bit of texture and flavor contrast without overwhelming or taking away from the cake itself. And the pudding filling adds a pleasant little surprise right in the center. We added sprinkles again for a splash of color, and helped ourselves to giant pieces, which we ate sitting in bed watching Star Wars (the original ones, not the lame new ones). I'm fairly certain I can't think of a better way to spend an evening than devouring a huge piece of indescribably delicious chocolate cake while lounging in pajamas in front of the TV in a sea of pillows and blankets. I'm so glad I ended up making this cake while I was up in Princeton, not only because I know that Randy really liked it as well, but because the whole experience definitely wouldn't have been as fun, or as meaningful, without him. Maybe the cake wouldn't even have tasted as good (although honestly, it's so amazing, I kind of doubt it :-p). I will definitely be making this cake again. It's worth the effort. Maybe next time I'll get brave and try making my own pudding.


I successfully completed two traveling Cake Days. It will be nice to be back in my own kitchen for the next one, but I'm going to miss my Cake Mate bunches. (P.S. We don't usually dress alike, I swear. In particular, we don't usually dress like twin bums. Pajamas, remember?)



9/17/11 Best Cake Ever reprise: My friend had her birthday this week, so I told her I'd make her a cake and gave her a choice of any that I've made so far. After hearing me rave about this one, it was an easy choice. So I made it again and took it to our Mexican Margarita party. We caused quite a ruckus in the restaurant with our singing and cake with 40 candles (she's not actually anywhere near 40; in fact she's not even 30 yet). It was a huge hit, and we left the rest for our waiters, as a thank-you for putting up with our group and the free round of birthday tequila shots! Seriously... this is the best cake ever.

Celebrating the simple things

This week's Cake Day was extra-special. My boyfriend, Randy, moved to New Jersey in April for a post doctoral position at Princeton. We haven't seen each other in almost 5 months. But thanks to Delta SkyMiles, I finally made it up here to see his new apartment, his new campus, his new life.

He is in need of some home-baked goods, and since this project is becoming an important part of my life, I wanted him to be included, so it only made sense to celebrate Cake Day with Randy. This week's recipe is for The White Cake, a cake made by Dr. Robinson's mother-in-law for nearly all important celebrations. The recipe is simple, and even states you can mix the cake batter by hand (my kind of cooking!). I baked the cakes while Randy was at work, which was an adventure in what he calls his "RV kitchen" (it's tiny), with even fewer tools at my disposal than usual (I brought my own cake pans and cooling rack). If I can get a cake out of here, I can get a cake out of anywhere. We frosted together after lunch (well, ok, I frosted and Randy took pictures... and added his own flair with some sprinkles), but patiently waited to savor our beautiful creation until after a run, dinner, and the last Harry Potter movie (we may have been the last people in the world who hadn't seen it). The first bite was an exciting moment, and well worth the wait. The cake itself is moist and almost satiny, and the frosting will satisfy even the most ravenous sweet tooth. It's simple, classic, and pure deliciousness.


Reading this cake's chapter, I find the timing of this Cake Day was particularly fitting. The Robinson family made this cake the week of Hurricane Katrina, and although not nearly as devastating as Katrina, Hurricane Irene blew through the East Coast earlier this week, and many areas, including the Princeton area, are still recovering from the flooding. Their Cake Day doubled as a celebration of Dr. R's in-laws' 63rd wedding anniversary. While nowhere near as impressive as a 63rd wedding anniversary, we are celebrating the slightly belated 3-year anniversary of our own relationship. But for us, it's the pure simplicity of this cake that I find most fitting. We have no big plans, no fancy outings planned for my time here. We are just enjoying our time together, playing it by ear, being us. Good local food, the beach, movies, running, and whatever else we're inspired to do that lets us enjoy each others company in a way Skype, AIM, and cell phones can't. And pretending we're movie critics and groaning about our sore calves late at night over slices of sweet cake is a perfect way to celebrate us.