The quickie

There are no process pictures for this particular recipe, because it all happened so quickly. It was friday night and I had just eaten a burrito faster than it takes to say the word “burrito,” and I was struck by this need for apple quickbread. I had read this recipe earlier in the week and I was thinking about it a lot. Each night during the week I considered and considered and considered it, but it never came to fruition. Then my post-burrito burst of energy took hold of me and I don’t really remember much, but at the end of it there was a loaf in the oven.

Sometimes that’s how quickies go, right? A big burrito, a short burst of energy, and then a loaf in the oven? God it all sounds so DIRTY. I LOVE IT.

But the bread, guys. THE BREAD. This is the moistest, most pleasantly-sweetened, apple sauciest, crumbly toppingest quick bread in the world. So you should have a quickie in the kitchen some time this week. And, I’m going to let you interpret that as you wish, but however you so define it, I hope you end up with apple bread.

Apple Pecan Quickbread
from eat make read

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup orange juice (i didn’t have it so i substituted yogurt)
1/3 cup (5 1/3 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted and cooled slightly
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup apple sauce, preferably fuji applesauce
1/2 cup coarsely chopped pecans (i used walnuts)
(i also added a chopped apple and i regret nothing)

crumble
3 Tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
3 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1/8 teaspoon cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350° F.

Line a 9 x 5 x 3-inch loaf pan with parchment paper.
In a large bowl, sift together the flour, the sugar, the baking powder, and the salt, making a well in the center. Set aside.
Mix together the butter and eggs. Add to the well. Stir in the applesauce and orange juice until just combined, being careful not to overmix.
Gently stir in the pecans.
Pour the batter into prepared pan.
Meanwhile, in a small bowl combine all the topping ingredients in a bowl and rub together with your fingertips until crumbly. Sprinkle evenly over the entire loaf.
Bake for 50-60 minutes or until a cake tester inserted into center of loaf comes out with moist crumbs attached. Do not overbake.

In the red

Ohhhh guys. Guys guys guys. I think I know how Pandora felt. I think I know what it feels like to wield untold power and to unleash something truly dangerous into the world. But also something beautiful. Except instead of unleashing suffering and hope, I’ve given to myself the power of making red velvet cake. Like any fucking time I want. Like all the fucking time, maybe. Probably.

I was a latecomer to the red velvet scene. The first red velvet I had was right before christmas, from the magical Sprinkles cupcake truck. It was, I don’t know, what’s the word? It was life-altering? Is that what I’m trying to say? I’ll never ever be the same ever again? I think that’s the sentiment I’m trying to get across here.

And now I’ve gone and taken red velvet from this far-away, seldom-seen luxury into this…accessible thing. A possible every-so-often thing. A whenever I feel like it thing. Do you know what the problem with that is? I kind of always feel like it. Like right now I’m thinking about red velvet again. And right now. And now. It never ends.

And then there’s like, 2/3 of a heart-shaped 4-layer red velvet cake in my fridge. It’s just SITTING there. And it used to be a whole heart 4-layer red velvet cake like 15 minutes ago. And I can’t stop thinking about it. About how nice it would be just to sit here and watch this Harry Potter movie on tv and eat some red velvet cake and maybe finish off that bottle of cheap wine I got the other night. It’s consuming me. Or, the other way around.

Which is what my life is going to be like from now on I guess. Because I’ve unleashed this monster and now I have to deal with its presence in my life. Red velvet cake is real to me now. It’s a thing that exists and that I can make exist. Like really fucking easily. My god. What have I done?

[So this blog The Way the Cookie Crumbles did a really thorough comparison of 4 different red velvet cakes, and I made the one she found the best. I was obviously not disappointed, but maybe you'd want to try a different one, I don't know, who are you anyway, do I know you?]

Red Velvet Cake with Cream Cheese Buttercream Frosting
from TWTCC via AAD via saveur.com via the devil.

Makes 1 8-inch 3-layer cake (or like 24 mini cupcakes and 8 regular cupcakes and a 4-layer baby heart cake)

For the cake:
2½ cups cake flour
1½ cups sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon cocoa powder
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
1½ cups vegetable oil
1 cup buttermilk
2 tablespoons (1 oz.) red food coloring
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon white distilled vinegar

For the frosting:
12 ounces cream cheese, softened
12 ounces butter, softened
1½ teaspoons vanilla extract
3 cups confectioners’ sugar
1½ cups chopped pecans (optional)

1. For the cake: Preheat oven to 350°.

2. Sift together flour, sugar, baking soda, cocoa, and salt into a medium bowl.

3. Beat eggs, oil, buttermilk, food coloring, vanilla, and vinegar in a large bowl with an electric mixer until well combined. Add dry ingredients and beat until smooth, about 2 minutes.

4. Divide batter evenly between 3 greased and floured 8″ round cake pans.

5. Bake cakes, rotating halfway through, until a toothpick inserted in the center of each cake comes out clean, 25-30 minutes. Let cakes cool 5 minutes, then invert each onto a plate, then invert again onto a cooling rack. Let cakes cool completely.

6. For the frosting: Beat cream cheese, butter, and vanilla together in a large bowl with an electric mixer until combined. Add sugar and beat until frosting is light and fluffy, 5-7 minutes.

4. Put 1 cake layer on a cake plate, level off with a serrated knife, and spread one-quarter of the frosting on top. Set another layer on top, level, and repeat frosting. Set remaining layer on top, level, and frost top and sides with the remaining frosting. Press pecans into the sides of the cake, if desired. **Tip: after leveling cake, turn it upside down to reduce numbers of crumbs. I also did a crumb coat on the outside, let it set for ten minutes, then finished with remaining frosting.

5. Chill for 2 hours to set frosting.

With the assist

I know you all think I’m like…an expert baker. Right? Right? Right? Right you think that? On account of all the expertly baked things I make? And the natural grace I exhibit in the kitchen? And all the not-messing-things-up and never-forgetting-ingredients and certainly-never-dropping-anything-or-not-reading-the-entire-recipe-all-the-way-through that goes on around here? Well. The point I’m trying to make is: these things that I do, these goods that I bake, they’re not rocket science. Anyone can bake! Just like Ratatouille taught us! As proof, here’s a guest post by one of my less domestically inclined friends, Vanessa. If she can make a recipe from my blog, anyone can. So, you should. You there. The one I’m pointing at. Yes. With the face. I’m talking about YOU. Aaand take it away, V:

So… I’m not a baker. There’s a line that bisects my mom’s brood of culinary-inclined siblings: you either cook or you bake. All of them know how to do BOTH of course, but for whatever reason, some have chosen to focus on scones while others, foie gras. Marge [ed. note: guest blogger's mother], as you can guess, falls into the latter category. Apparently, when she and my dad were dating, Marge was quite the baker – her repertoire included eclairs and croissants and any type of cake that would get him to see what a domestic goddess she was whom he should marry (all according to Rick [guest blogger's father]). But there may be some truth to my dad’s story because for as long as I’ve been around, I’ve never had a single Marge-baked eclair! So, while I feel at home with bolognese and rack of lamb, I’m terrified by all things baked, which is why I’d drooled over – but never made – anything from Kat in the Kitch.

This morning, with about 2 feet of snow blustering into Philly, all that changed. When you share a kitchen with a boy, you NEVER have everything you need to make even the most simple of dishes. However, our kitch has been going through something of a renaissance and to my surprise we had EVERY SINGLE INGREDIENT TO MAKE THE MUFFINS! All stores were closed so I took this as a sign from fate. As you can see from the attached photos… some of us slaved while others of us lazed. I was also reminded of why I could never work in a serious kitchen (aside from lack of talent) because I cannot keep my fingers out of anything I’m cooking. Intermediate stages of readiness always taste best to me. Mmmmm eggs and sugar beaten together? I’m there! Ohhh, is that a little spilled batter? Right down the hatch. Do I see reduced sugar and berries? Oops.. on my pants. I can see it now, some exasperated sous chef screaming at me to keep my hands out of the batter and going on about things called profit margins (your recipe called for 12 muffins… for some odd reason, we only had enough batter to make 10 – I guess part of the reason can be found on my pants…)

At any rate, this was a very successful attempt and has given me a renewed sense of courage when it comes to baking – although let’s be honest. I started with muffins. This is not exactly the piece de resistance of one’s baking repertoire. I only hope my attempt inspires other readers of your website who have delayed in embracing your spirit, hitting the kitchen and attempting the unfamiliar. While fellow readers of Kat in the Kitch may end up with blueberry goop on their white pajama pants that their boyfriends insist on calling skid marks (le sigh), the risks are well worth the reward. After all, they may have to zest some orange into the sugar topping because they only have half a lemon and they may find it tastes delicious. They may overfill their muffin tins, thereby indirectly making their muffins extra top heavy but, as Seinfeld proved when devoting an entire episode to them, muffin tops are the best part anyway! Your readers who have been busy sitting on the sidelines should know… it’s ok to get off and play a few innings, bake a few things, make like a grizzly and put on a few calories for winter. While you, Katrina, have more artistic talent in your pinky than I do in my mangled sculpture of the Reggie Lewis track that I made junior year in high school as part of a mandatory art class where we had to mold out of clay “something that meant a lot to us”… I still was able to take wisdom from your website (no, my life is not in shambles) and come out triumphant like another famous Flipadel – ahem – Philadelphian.

Editor’s final note: Seriously, V? When asked to render something that meant a lot to you, you molded a sculpture of the Reggie Lewis track out of clay? That is crazy. With a capital C and an extra y separated into 2 sentences and 2 E’s instead of the last y: Cray. Zee.

Blueberry muffin recipe can be found HERE.

A raw deal

Sooooo. I like things baked. I like hot and gooey. I like warm and flaky. I like messy and steamy. I like melty and doughy. But apparently. APPARENTLY. Most things warm flaky gooey messy melty are not exactly super good for you. There are exceptions for sure. But in general things that are hard, green, crunchy, and cold are the things that, you know, don’t make you a fatty.

It’s hard for me to get SUPER jazzed about raw veggies. I mean, don’t get me wrong here. I am a vegetable lover. A really nice greek salad on a hot day is hard to compete with. And who doesn’t love cucumbers and red peppers and carrots? But it’s rare that I’m eating a vegetable and I’ll turn to my nearest neighbor and be like, OH MY GOD I HAVE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN, like I would do with most baked goods and just about anything involving melted cheese.

This recipe though. I’m a lover of this recipe. I’ve made this salad probably 4 or 5 times, and I can’t get enough. Something about the combination of the tough raw kale, the tangy lemon and garlic, the sharp cheese, and the crunchy breadcrumbs really knocks this out of the park for me.

It’s one of those salads that, after you eat it, you can literally FEEL the minerals seeping into your bones. It’s so gosh darn healthy. But it’s interesting! And different! And good! So embrace the hard crunchy. Take a break from that 80th grilled cheese sandwich. Momentarily put down that chocolate croissant. Let rest the shrinking wheel of brie. If you are what you eat, you’ll practically have your doctorate in Health & Nutrition after this salad.

Raw Tuscan Kale Salad with Pecorino
from the NYTimes

1 bunch Tuscan kale (also known as black or lacinato kale)
1 thin slice country bread (part whole-wheat or rye is nice), or 1/4 cup homemade bread crumbs (coarse)
1/2 garlic clove, finely chopped
1/4 cup finely grated pecorino cheese, more for garnish
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, more for garnish
Freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon red pepper flakes
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1. Trim bottom 2 inches off kale stems and discard. Slice kale, including ribs, into 3/4-inch-wide ribbons. You should have 4 to 5 cups. Place kale in a large bowl.

2. If using bread, toast it until golden on both sides. Tear it into small pieces and grind in a food processor until mixture forms coarse crumbs.

3. Using a mortar and pestle, or with the back of a knife, pound garlic into a paste. Transfer garlic to a small bowl. Add 1/4 cup cheese, 3 tablespoons oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper flakes and black pepper, and whisk to combine. Pour dressing over kale and toss very well to thoroughly combine (dressing will be thick and need lots of tossing to coat leaves).

4. Let salad sit for 5 minutes, then serve topped with bread crumbs, additional cheese and a drizzle of oil.

Yield: 2 to 4 servings.

In a heart-shaped box? Really?

Some hot ladies and I got together the other night to make heart-shaped cookies and then eat them all in a fit of powdered sugar-induced mania.

It was a blast and I wish you were there with us. We used a wine bottle as a rolling pin (we’re just soOoOo wacky!!!!!)! We judged ourselves by our ability to not break the heart cookie tops (which were like WAY more delicate than our own hearts) as we transferred them from the counter to the baking sheet! Some of us were better than others (you know who you are, heart-breaker. OH THE INSIPID WORDPLAY that comes along with Valentine’s Day. you might want to kill me now to preempt it all).

But really, I don’t know how I feel about posting a Valentine’s Day inspired recipe on this here blog. On the one hand, I do enjoy getting into holidays. I’m all about pumpkin everything and christmas tree this and easter egg that and red-white-and-blue those and arbor day these. But on the other hand…Valentine’s Day. How corny do you get, really? I mean, I understand the concept, and I support it. You should show people you love them and if Valentine’s Day encourages you to send out cutesy valentines in the mail to everyone you love, PLEASE do that. I think that’s fantastic. What I DO. NOT. SUPPORT. is the like…oh it’s Valentine’s Day so my boyfriend should buy me something diamond and get me roses and take me out to a fancy dinner. LAME. L-A-M-E. If you’re a dude, and you’re reading this blog, and you have a girlfriend about whom you care deeply, SHAME ON YOU if you’ve planned any of the aforementioned things.

But I mean, making her heart-shaped cookies? Knock yourself out. Which you might! Because these are not easy to make! But, as my friend Marge so appropriately quoted from some 90′s band whose name is currently escaping me: the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right, yeah.

So dudes, I’m going to give you some advice. This is a freebie, because you know how I feel about your kind on the whole and I sincerely hope that you understand the truce that is occurring right now for me to be giving you any sort of [OBVIOUS AND SIMPLE SO WHY HAVE YOU NOT FIGURED THIS OUT YET YOU DUMMIES] direction about Valentine’s Day. 1) Don’t even fucking think about roses. Just fucking STOP IT. And GOD HELP YOU if you buy them from like…7-11 on your way home. FIND OUT HER FAVORITE FLOWER (it’s not roses. if it is, good luck, friend. it’s a scientific fact that only crazy ass hos who are like WAY too high maintenance like roses [apologies crazy ass hos who read this blog, but come on, you know it's true]) and get some of those, if you insist on flowers, which I’m not saying you shouldn’t. Even regular ass hos like flowers. 2) Those terrible Whitman’s chocolates in a heart shaped box that NOBODY FUCKING LIKES? NO. No no no no no. Chocolates? Yes, sure. But christ, NOT FROM THE DRUG STORE. Go to a chocolatier or something. Get some fancy truffles for chrissake. Put them in a wooden box. Put them in a mason jar. ANYTHING but that infernal heart-shaped tastes-like-wax bullshit. 3) Fancy dinner? Sure, whatever, Vanilla McBorington. What about making her dinner? What about getting $50 worth of taco bell and that really good mexican soda (jarritos?) and having a picnic on the floor of your apt? What about buying her favorite wine or beer and pairing it with cheeses you picked out from some specialty cheese shop? What about a 5 course meal that uses 5 different parts of the pig? Am I just listing things I want? I DON’T KNOW IT’S POSSIBLE. 4) Diamonds? Again. If she’s asking for diamonds, you are on your own here. Good luck with all of THAT. I’m sure that one will last forever. No seriously, have fun with her FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. Because I gotta tell you, bitches ONLY GET CRAZIER.

So, gentlemen. Consider yourselves warned. You’re welcome. Also, truce over.

Pecan Linzer Cookies With Cherry Filling (or walnut linzer cookies with raspberry filling, as it were)
from Martha’s Cookies, natch

2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

3/4 cup pecan halves, toasted

2 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar, plus more for sprinkling

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 cup (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1/4 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1 large egg

1/2 cup cherry jam, strained

Sift flour and baking powder into a bowl; set aside. Pulse pecans, confectioners’ sugar, salt, and cinnamon in a food processor until finely ground (but not wet); transfer to the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment.

Add butter and granulated sugar; mix on medium speed until fluffy. Mix in vanilla and egg. Reduce speed to low. Add flour mixture; mix until combined. Halve dough; shape into disks. Wrap in plastic; refrigerate until firm, at least 2 hours.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Working with 1 disk at a time, roll out dough on a lightly floured surface to 1/8 inch thick. Refrigerate 20 minutes. Cut out squares with a 2-inch fluted cutter. Cut out centers of half the squares with a 1/2-inch heart cutter; reroll scraps. Space 2 inches apart on parchment-lined baking sheets. Bake squares and hearts until pale golden, 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer to racks to cool.

Meanwhile, heat jam in a small saucepan over medium heat until reduced and thickened, about 7 minutes; let cool.

Sprinkle cutout cookies with confectioners’ sugar. Spread jam onto uncut squares; top with cutout ones. Store in an airtight container up to 2 days.

These are the jam. Bars I’ve been telling you about.

Actually I probably haven’t told you about these jam bars. But now I am. I didn’t until I did. That’s usually how it works, right? I went to my sister’s place (a place of no kitchenaid!) and she had a huge jar of raspberry rhubarb jam left over from the summer so we decided to use it. The jam!

I like when people say things are “the jam.” That phrase is very pleasing to me. There are a whole host of things that are the jam, up to and including jam bars. And not only because jam is in the title. I mean, that has a lot to do with it for sure. But there are other really nice things in jam bars as well. Butter. Sugar. Flour. You get it. We all get it.

I’m sorry, I’m not super enthused today. Sometimes writing a blog can feel very contrived. I try hard to be honest with you all here. And I write pretty much how I talk, except insert FAUX LOUD VOICE for caps and eyes widened and emphasis for italics and noticeably. clipped. words. and. long. pauses. between. them. for periods in sentences and This Is Important voice for random capitalizations. You’re just lucky I didn’t try to write this yesterday, when I was in a MOOD.

I was all, eff this ess. Screw men, they’re douchebags. Eff work, it’s boring. Shut up random stranger, I don’t want to hear about your nail appointment. Eat a D, car that almost clipped me as I stood on the corner. Take it up the butt, tea, for tasting kind of bitter today. Go eff yourself men, once more, just for fun. Get out of my way B, learn to walk with heels or wear flats. You’re ugly anyway. You’re all ugly. And mean. And leave me alone! And….aw, a puppy! But all the rest of you! Shame on you! You don’t give enough to charity! You’re not nice enough! You think your baby is cuter than it is! You were an asshole to that nerdy kid in 5th grade! You put on too much perfume! You’re not humble enough! Who cares about your job! I don’t give a dick where you went to business school! STOP TALKING!

It was one of those days. But the lesson here, because I always like to bring it back to the LEARNING, you know, is this: even on those days, where you rage against pretty much the entire world for no real good reason (save for puppies, because WHO’S A GOOD DOG??), jam bars are still really great. They are. The Jam. Eat them. And then eat a dick, you jerk.

Strawberry-Rhubarb Jam Bars (Raspberry-Rhubarb Remix)
from The Kitchen Sink

1 3/4 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature, divided
1/3 cup sugar
2 cups flour, divided
3/8 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt, divided
1 1/2 cups strawberry-rhubarb jam (we used raspberry rhubarb)
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 cup quick-cooking oats
2 teaspoons lemon zest

Preheat the oven to 350. Grease a 9-inch square pan.

In a stand mixer, beat the 1 1/2 sticks of butter and 1/3 cup of sugar until light and fluffy. In a medium bowl, whisk together 1 1/2 cups flour and 1/8 teaspoon of salt. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture in the stand mixer and beat until incorporated. Using floured hands, gather the butter mixture into a ball in the mixer bowl. Press the dough into the bottom of the prepared pan. Bake for 20 minutes, or until the crust has begun to brown at the edges. Remove from the oven to cool slightly while preparing the remaining ingredients.

In the bowl of a food processor, combine the remaining 1/4 stick of butter, 1/2 cup flour, 1/4 teaspoon salt and the brown sugar, soda, oats and lemon zest. Pulse until the mixture becomes crumbly.

Spread the 1 1/2 cups of jam over the baked crust. Sprinkle the oat mixture on top of the jam. Bake for 30 minutes or until the oat topping has become golden.

It tastes like purple

Here’s the part where I’m all SHIT I MESSED THIS RECIPE UP PRETTY BADLY. And you’re all clutching your breast OH MY GOD I AM ABSOLUTELY SHOCKED. SHOCKED.

So let’s skip that part and get to the part where you read the post and get inspired to make some scones. Because, honestly, do you think you have had enough homemade scones in your life yet? Have you reached that quota? My guess is probably not.

And my other guess is that there have been some really cold and/or rainy winter mornings recently that have been BEGGING for scones. Mornings on their KNEES, hands clasped, PLEADING WITH YOU. MAKE THE SCONES, meng. For the love of everything warm and flaky, make the fucking scones.

And my final guess is that you’ve been shoving down instant oatmeal or coffee and a pastry or a cold cold yogurt, not knowing that there was another way. And do you know what they call not knowing? Ignorance. You don’t want to be ignorant, do you, child?

Well then make the g d scones. (but don’t mash the berries, WHICH THEY SPECIFICALLY TELL YOU IN THE RECIPE, it’s just that some people NEVER LISTEN)

Buttermilk Scones
from Tartine (1/2 recipe)

6 tablespoons zante currants (1.75 ounces) or 3 ounces fresh berries
2¼ + 2 tablespoons (12 ounces) all-purpose flour
1½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ + 1/8 teaspoon baking soda
¼ (1.75 ounces) granulated sugar
½ teaspoon + 1/8 teaspoon salt
9 tablespoons butter, very cold
¾ cup buttermilk
½ teaspoon lemon zest
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
large crystal sugar or granulated sugar for sprinkling

1. Preheat the oven to 400ºC. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat.

2. To make the dough, first combine the currants with warm water to cover in a small bowl and set aside for about 10 minutes until the currants are plumped. Drain well. If you’re using berries instead of currants, put them in the freezer.

3. While the currants are plumping (or the berries are freezing), whisk the flour, baking powder, and baking soda in a large mixing bowl if making by hand, or into the large bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Add the sugar and salt and stir to mix with a rubber spatula. Cut the butter into ½-inch cubes and scatter the cubes over the dry ingredients. If you are using a mixer, pulse on and off so that you don’t break down the butter too much. You want to end up with a coarse mixture with pea-sized lumps of butter visible.

4. Add the buttermilk all at once along with the lemon zest and currants. (If you’re using berries, don’t add them yet.) Mix gently with a rubber spatula by hand or on low speed if using the mixer. Add the berries and continue to mix just until you have a dough that holds together. Be careful not to mash the berries into the dough, or you will color it with their juice. If the mixture seems dry, add a little more buttermilk. You still want to see some of the butter pieces at this point, which will add to the flakiness of the scones once they are baked.

5. Dust your work surface with flour, and turn the dough out onto it. Using your hands, pat the dough into a rectangle about 9 inches long, 5 inches wide, and 1½ inches thick. Brush the top with the melted butter and sprinkle with the sugar. Using a chef’s knife, cut the dough into 8 triangles. Transfer the triangles to the prepared baking sheet.

6. Bake the scones until the tops are lightly browned, 25 to 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and serve immediately.

It has oatmeal in it.

Oh that excuse. No no. It’s good for me. It has oatmeal in it. WHERE did that come from? It’s like, yeah, I get it, oatmeal is good for your heart or whatever…when you eat it PLAIN. It’s like saying that an almond croissant is good for you because nuts are good for you and almonds are nuts! It’s like someone never bothered to take Logic 101 (which I did, incidentally, in college freshman year, and my professor looked like Matt Damon, no joke, I swear, there were like 90 people in that class and I guarantee 86 of them were girls, and 85 of those girls were in that class because every Monday and Wednesday at 8:30am our professor waltzed in in a bright colored shirt and a blazer [yes i remember what he wore] looking like Good Will Hunting and we all looked at each other like, BEST CLASS EVER, and the 4 dudes, math majors all, who had probably never been close to that many girls at once, looked around at the surrounding 86 girls and were like, BEST CLASS EVER, and, IT LOGICALLY FOLLOWS THAT: everybody wins when your professor looks like Matt Damon) and never learned that just because A is healthy, it doesn’t follow that A+B+C equals healthy if B and C are BUTTER AND CREAM.

But anyway, none of this really even MATTERS, because this cake isn’t billing itself as healthy cake like so many oatmeal products try to do. I fucking HATE IT when people use oatmeal as a cover for all the other egregious shit they have in there. Like, oh, this granola has OATS in it. Yeah and like 2 cups of oil and sugar and little else. Don’t play me like that. I’m not an idiot.

What I’m saying here is that this cake is just hands down delicious. Maybe the most amazing cake I’ve ever made. Did you hear that? That has nothing to do with oatmeal. This cake is so fantastic that it hurt to put the frosting on. It’s like when you see a really pretty girl and she has like 90 lbs of makeup on and all you want to do is grab her by the ear and spit on a tissue and be all just. sit. still. missy. and. let. me. wipe. this. OFF. And then when she’s like on her way to the grocery store in sweats and a ponytail you’re like, STOP, WAIT, LOOK AT YOURSELF, YOU’RE GORGEOUS, please put down the spackle brush.

Cause the icing is SWEE-HEET. I mean, it’s delicious, as most sweet things are. But the cake. It’s so good. It’s so good. And now it’s time for logic again, namely, if the cake is so good, and you like to eat things that are so good, and you should make things you like to eat, then you should make the cake. By the way I got an A in that class, thanks Matt Damon.

Irish Oatmeal Cake
from Moosewood Book of Desserts

2 cups all purpose fl0ur
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1 1/4 tsp baking soda
1 cup rolled oats
3/4 cup butter, softened
1 cup packed brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 tsps vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups buttermilk

Butterscotch Frosting:
6 tbsps butter
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 cup powdered sugar
1 tsps vanilla extract
2 tbsp milk

Preheat oven to 350. Butter and flour two 9×2 pans. (a cautionary tale: I WOULD PUT PARCHMENT ON)

Sift together the flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. In a blender whirl the oats to the consistency of corn meal. Stir into the flour mixture and set aside.

With an electric mixer, cream the butter and brown sugar until light. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Combine the vanilla and buttermilk and add alternately with the flour mixture. Mix until well blended.

Pour the batter into the prepared pans and bake for about 30 minutes, until a knife inserted comes out clean. Cool in the pans for about 5 minutes and then turn out onto racks to cool completely.

For the frosting, melt the butter in the saucepan. Add the brown sugar and simmer on very low heat for at least 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. (Don’t cheat on the time–the longer it cooks the smoother the frosting.)

Transfer the butter-brown sugar mixture to a bowl. With an electric mixer, beat in the powdered sugar and vanilla. Add the milk a little at a time until the frosting is smooth and creamy. While the frosting is still warm, fill and frost the cake.

The war against gluten

Here is a free tip from me to you, because I care about you and I want you to be happy: don’t ever become allergic to gluten. The war against gluten is not one you want to wage, because it results in disgusting. Nobody wins, is what I’m saying here.

You see that shot above? Jesus, have you ever seen cookie dough look MORE like dog shit? I for one, have not. And it didn’t get much better from there.

You might THINK the cookie above looks like it’s smiling. How joyous, right? Wrong. The only thing that cookie has to smile about is that it secretly tastes like chalk and some unsuspecting cookie lover might accidentally mistake it for a regular cookie and be really fucking disappointed when they discover that this in not the case, not at all, not in any way, shape or form.

When you look at it that way, this cookie becomes a smug little bastard. Smiling away at my poor sister, who has newly-discovered celiac disease and can no longer have gluten, which I’m now convinced is the most amazing substance on earth. Smiling as she bravely fought the war against gluten, and came out the other side with some flat discs better suited for making medals of honor than for eating.

But, oh,  don’t get me wrong, I ate like 6 of them anyway.  (also, we broke most of the rules in this recipe, most notably lack of xantham gum, so that might be the reason for the gross. i’d like to say we’ll get it right next time, but to be honest, i’m not in any kind of huge rush to make gluten-free cookies again.)

Gluten-Free Buckwheat Chocolate Chip Cookies
from Gluten-Free Goddess (whose prowess I don’t doubt. this clearly isn’t her fault)

Dry ingredients:
1 cup buckwheat flour
1 cup sorghum flour (or rice of you prefer)
1/2 cup tapioca starch
1 1/2 teaspoons xanthan gum
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon sea salt

“Wet” mix ingredients:
1 cup Spectrum Organic Shortening
1 1/2 cups organic light brown sugar, packed
1 tablespoon bourbon vanilla
1 tablespoon honey (or agave nectar to keep it vegan)*
Ener-G Egg Replacer for 2 eggs- of if you prefer eggs, use 2 happy free-range organic huevos

Add ins:
2-5 tablespoons vanilla rice or hemp milk, as needed
1 10-oz bag of allergen-free semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/2 cup chopped nuts, coconut, or chopped dried fruit, if desired

In a large mixing bowl whisk together the flours, tapioca starch, xanthan gum, baking soda and sea salt. In a separate bowl, beat the Spectrum shortening, brown sugar and vanilla until smooth. Add in the eggs or egg replacer and beat to combine. Add the dry ingredients a little at a time and beat to combine- until a dough forms- adding a tablespoon of vanilla rice milk at a time to achieve a soft but sturdy dough. Add the chocolate chips and any additional add-ins and beat by hand. Cover and chill the dough for an hour. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. I use an Exopat liner on my baking sheet; but you could also use parchment paper. Scoop tablespoons of dough and form them into twenty balls; place them on the lined cookie sheet, about two inches apart. Press down on the dough balls ever so slightly, but keep a slightly mounded shape- not too flat. Bake in the center of a pre-heated oven for 12 to 17 minutes, or until the cookies are firm. Remove the cookies with a thin spatula and place them on a cooling rack. They will crisp as they cool. This recipe makes 20 large cookies. A larger size bakes up better than smaller- crispy good on the outside and tender-chewy in the middle.