If you’ve followed me on Facebook or Twitter, you know that, on Sunday, I usually bake a cake. No real reason: just because (and mainly because I rarely baked anything other than bread; I’m not much of a dessert person. I don’t mind dessert, but I’d much rather have something savory than something sweet.). I wanted a new challenge, I think, so I started up, maybe . . . two years ago? No, more like three: I remember that I baked a cake to celebrate ASHES’ release. Anyway, baking sort of stuck as a kind of habit. I love cake, which is why I try not to have it around the house. Most cakes I make go straight to the husband’s lab folks on Monday morning. By midday, I’ll get a report: thumbs up; thumbs down; bring insulin because everyone’s in a hyperglycemic coma. Stuff like that.
Anyway, a bunch of folks have asked for recipes, and so I was thinking . . . heck, I blog on Sundays. Most often I’m all about business or the writing life . . . but then I thought, Why not post the occasional recipe? Or even more than occasional? How about doing a post about something non-writerly every other week, and save the writing stuff for when I cross-post to ADR3NALIN3?
So that’s what I’m doing. I may not do a cake recipe every other week. For example, I brewed up a vegetarian pho to die for that I talked about on Facebook, and a couple folks have asked for that recipe as well. So that might find its way here. Or I might decide to post a picture of a cat, and call it a day. Whatever . . . just something easy on the eyes and not so serious.
ALTHOUGH . . . look, cake is serious business. Baking is chemistry and precision timing. You got to be on the ball, no half measures (well, all except sifting: in the interests of full disclosure, I never sift my flour. Why not? I’m lazy. It’s a pain and kind of messy. I’m not convinced it does much for a cake anyway, but that’s just me.) In the beginning, all this exactitude was a real problem because while I’m careful in, say, a lab or when I used to do/assist in surgery and stuff, cooking is much more free-form for me. The kitchen’s where I relax after a day of writing. Yeah, there are recipes you follow, but when you get good enough at and comfortable with a certain cuisine–I’m so there with Indian, Mexican, Moroccan, Greek, Middle Eastern–you know when you need to add more of x to get some zip. Some recipes you memorize; others you tweak; a ton you can glance at and snort, No, I don’t think so. I’m sort of getting to that point with baking now, not in the sense that I tweak so much (and I’ve yet to really get snarky), but I do have a more intuitive understanding of when a batter is right or what I might add something that will complement or jazz up a cake. By and large, though, I stick to recipes I find either in various cookbooks that I hear about and decide to try (I rarely buy books straight off; I’ll check them out of the library first, test out a half dozen recipes, see what I think), or if I’ve a hankering for something with pumpkin or pomegranate or something, I’ll let my fingers do the walking on Google, see what comes up.
Today’s cake is from this fabulous cookbook, Kiss My Bundt, by Chrysta Wilson, owner of the bakery by the same name. (Follow the bakery on Facebook and you’ll find recipes for things other than just cake: right now, there’s a quick and dirty recipe for a scrumptious looking avocado crostini.) I first found Wilson’s recipes when I was trawling the Web, looking for a new red velvet cake recipe I could do in a bundt. (I have a nice one but done as a layer cake. I found it after tasting the cake at New York’s Amy’s Bread. Well, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven, so I tracked down the bakery’s cookbook, The Sweeter Side of Amy’s Bread. The devil’s food cake is also positively sinful. But all of Amy’s cakes are either layer or sheet, and I wanted to stick with bundts. Why? I don’t know, but I love me a good bundt cake, more than almost any other. There’s just something very . . . nice and comforting and honey about a bundt; it’s cake . . . but not as fussy. (Or it might just be that I’ve zero artistic ability when it comes to piping elaborate frostings or any kind of sugar art–a real mindblower, that; I actually interviewed a sugar artist as part of a writing assignment way back. This was when I’d won Writers of the Future, and during the workshop, Tim Powers and Algis Budrys made us go interview someone from a profession we knew nothing about and then craft a story around it. But that’s a story for another day, too.)
Anyway, I normally stay away from layer cakes. I’ll do them . . . but then they turn into work, not something I relax over and feel a sense of accomplishment in when I’m done. Plus, you can find yourself some really gorgeous bundt pans and turn plain ol’ batter into something pretty.
So I’ve fallen in love with Wilson’s little gem of a cookbook. After last week’s Mexican Hot Chocolate Cake (and I do mean hot; that cayenne adds a kick but one cut by the richness of that bittersweet ganache), I wanted to try this bourbon cake with bourbon glaze: something mellow yet still interesting.
Or maybe–*hic!*–I just wanted a bit of a nip. It’s been a sorely trying week.
You might think this is silly, but I actually gave some thought to which bourbon to use here: what should go into the cake and which into the glaze. For me, bourbon is serious business. A film buddy from way back got me started on single barrel bourbons, and Justified has only made me even more hardcore (as it seems to have many other folks, and now I do believe I’ll have to try me some Black Maple Hill–and maybe try and get my hands on some Pappy Van Winkle . . . except I’d have to sell my first-born to afford that stuff. Although I also like Woodford Reserve just fine. And that little bottle Art’s always pouring from then putting back in his safe? Blanton’s, that fancy-ish bottle in front. Very nice sippin’, and I prefer mine neat, as long as you’re offering. If I wanted water, I’d get a glass, thanks.) Like me, Raylan Givens takes his whiskey seriously, too. Man after my own heart . . . and I’ll buddy up to the bar with him anytime.
ANYWAY . . . sorry, I got carried away. Everyone who’s followed me knows I’m a Friday-Martini kind of girl (Belvedere, straight up, very dry, three olives), but I do love me some bourbon for sipping. I really do.
Now, I won’t get all fancy-schmancy on you here; I don’t know the right words to describe how Blanton’s or any other kind of bourbon tastes, though Blanton’s not got the bite of Knob Creek 9, in part because the latter is 120 proof and will really clear your sinuses, but also because Blanton’s (93 proof) is aged much longer. Of the three I’ve got at the moment, Basil Hayden’s (80 proof) is the smoothest going down but also not as complex. It’s the bourbon I’ll serve someone who’s trying out a single barrel for the first time.
Anyway, back to the cake: we all know that at a high temp, alcohol burns off. All you’re left with is taste. Since the recipe calls for a ton of sugar and butter and milk–which translates into sweet and fat that will cut the actual bourbon taste as well–I opted to go with Knob Creek 9 for the cake. For the glaze, I decided on the milder Basil Hayden’s. The Blanton’s? Heh. Wait and see.
So, time for the ingredients: room-temp eggs, butter, and whole milk (whole; never that skim or 1% stuff . . . I mean, for crying out loud, you’re making a cake);
all-purpose flour, salt, and baking powder;
and a nice vanilla (we’ll go into varieties of vanilla a different day).
While you’re doing the actual mixing, preheat that oven to 350 degrees and grease the hell out of a pretty bundt pan. Wilson’s recipe is designed for, as she says, “a big ol’ bundt,” which translates into a 10-12 cup pan. The one I chose today, though, is a 9-cupper, so I also greased up a trio of mini-bundts to handle the extra. (Wilson also says to grease and flour your pans. Seeing as how a ton of good baking sprays have flour already added, this is usually a snap and much easier than spraying and then dusting with flour (or powdered sugar; I’ve done that, too). Having said that, I forgot to do that today. Only a tiny bit of cake stuck to the pan. Crisis averted!)
First, cream your butter on medium-low and then gradually add your sugar a half cup at a time.
Notice I’ve got my trusty spatula at the ready to make sure everything gets turned up from the bottom and scraped down from the sides. After all that sugar’s added, beat about three minutes until fluffy.
While the mixer’s doing its thing, whisk together your flour, salt, and baking powder in a separate bowl and measure out your milk, bourbon, and vanilla.
Next, add eggs, one at a time, beating at medium-low until each is incorporated before adding the next. (And don’t waste those shells! This is why God invented pretty kitchen compost pots.)
Once your eggs are in, then it’s time to turn that stand-mixer to low and add your flour and milk/bourbon/vanilla mixture, divvying up the flour into thirds and the milk into halves. So, it’s a cup of flour; half the milk/bourbon; a cup of flour; the rest of the milk/bourbon; the rest of the four. (Really, it’s easy, and you can always increase the mixer’s speed a tad if you think it’s getting too thick. But always remember: better to mix a tad too little than a touch too much, or your batter will get tough. Scrape down your bowl as needed, too.)
So your batter’ll start out looking like this (kind of thick and ropy):
but end up fluffy, white, light, and creamy:
Next, pour into your prepared pan(s). If you’re using something as elaborate as my pan, you might want to use an offset spatula to help smooth and push your batter as close to the outer edge as you can so your batter takes the pretty imprint.
Give the husband, who’s been hovering, his due:
Then pop those babies into the oven and deal with the aftermath (and your famished kitties who just can’t understand why their bowls are empty and what you could possibly be doing that’s more important than they are) as those cakes bake: about 30 minutes for the baby bundts; 50-55 total for the big bundt, depending on your oven.
Baby bundts come out first (when they’re nice and golden brown, and a toothpick comes out clean). Cool on a rack for about 15 minutes and then invert.
Aren’t I pretty?
Next, out comes the big ol’ bundt. Let it cool at least fifteen minutes (I always wait about thirty, especially when using a fancy pan) so the cake pulls away from the edges.
Wait until I’m glazed!
You want to wait until your cake’s completely cool to glaze, otherwise it’ll just get sopped right in and turn your cake into a mucky, gooey mess. (Tasty–but still a mess.)
Glaze is a snap, and yes, I do sift confectioner’s sugar because that stuff tends to get these nasty little lumps you just can’t beat out. Dump your sugar into a bowl, then add about 3-6 tbsp. of bourbon. I usually go a little on the high end here, but you want to add only enough liquid to thin the glaze so you can drizzle it all over that luscious, buttery goodness.
Then kick back, and congratulate yourself on a job well done! It’s always 5 o’clock somewhere.
BOURBON POUND CAKE (from Chrysta Wilson’s Kiss My Bundt)
You will need:
-
1.5 cups (room temp) unsalted butter
- 3 cups sugar
- 5 eggs (room temp; I can not stress this enough)
- 3 cups flour
- 1.5 tsp baking powder
- .25 tsp salt
- .25 cup (nice) bourbon; no rot-gut
- .5 tsp vanilla
- 1.75 cups whole milk (room temp)
- Set your oven to 350.
- Cream butter and then add slowly add sugar, a half cup at a time. Beat about three minutes, until fluffy.
- Add eggs, one at a time, beating thoroughly before adding the next, for a total of about two minutes.
- While your eggs are mixing, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt in a separate bowl. Add bourbon and vanilla to milk.
- Turn your mixer from medium-low/high to low (or stir). Beginning with flour, add a cup at a time, alternating with half of your milk/bourbon/vanilla mixture. Follow with another cup of your flour/baking powder/salt mix; then the rest of the milk; and then end with the remainder of your flour mix. Your batter will look a little curdled to begin with then change color, going from yellow to cream-white, and it will also become much lighter and fluffier.
- Turn your batter into your prepared pan(s).
- Bake until done–about 50-55 minutes for a big bundt; 30 minutes for baby bundts–or until a toothpick comes out clean. Watch the edges; do not let them get too brown.
- Rest pan(s) on a cooling rack for at least fifteen minutes before inverting onto a serving plate or a second rack. (I always invert onto my serving plate, which is why I wait until the cake is cooler. That way, the bottom doesn’t get moist and gummy.)
- Glaze when completely cool (a couple hours should do it).
BOURBON GLAZE
You will need:
- 1.5 cups sifted confectioner’s sugar
- 3-6 tbsp. bourbon
Put sugar into mixing bowl. Whisk bourbon, a tbsp. at a time, into sugar until sugar dissolves and thin enough to pour cover your cake.
