The audacity to promenade

So here's my trouble. I wanted to tell you about Martha Stewart's Cupcakes (Clarkson Potter, 2009). To chat about my impressions, my likes, my dislikes, the nitty gritty details of this cookbook devoted to the small.

But my attention has been captured by someone small, a small one who is getting bigger every day. Happy Birthday to you, our William - today is your first, and I can hardly find the words.

All week I have been vacillating between my heart bursting with pride and my chest tightening with emotion. Such is the state of Mummyhood. The First Birthday is an event met with a mile-wide grin and cheers of joy tempered with the sob-sniffle-wail of "my goodness, this is all too fast."

And fast it has been. Our Littler Man is walking.

William took his first tentative steps a few weeks back, and has now fully embraced the notion of upright locomotion. The rapid-fire thwack of his hands and knees on the floors of our home has been replaced with the padded rhythm of confident footsteps. And confident he is, as Will is not one to toddle.

In a manner unsurprising to anyone who has met him, our William has the audacity to promenade. His walk is so spirited, his step so lively, there is most surely a song in his heart.

Oh there now, I've digressed into ridiculous levels of Proud Parent Mode. My apologies.

Where was I? Oh yes, cupcakes. With William's first 1st birthday party planning underway, Martha Stewart's Cupcakes was a wealth of imaginative cake ideas, all on a scale befitting the occasion. Silly me though, I put Benjamin in charge of selecting the flavour to try - and again as my children are nothing if not consistent, he chose the most basic of recipes, chocolate upon chocolate.

But his choice was surprisingly astute, as our previous favourite chocolate cupcake was the One Bowl Chocolate Cupcakes from Martha Stewart's Baking Handbook (Clarkson Potter, 2005). Now One Bowl Chocolate Cupcakes are in the new book, but it is a different recipe.

So it was settled, the dessert menu chosen for our celebration. The recipe itself warrants little description; it is a standard cocoa and buttermilk cake, with only a scant amount of oil. The method is as demanding as a boxed cake, with the dry ingredients whisked in a bowl, then the eggs, buttermilk and oil poured over. A few stirs, and it is done.

This recipe yields cakes that look the example of cupcake perfection; each rose with the same rounded cheek, bulging slightly at their edges but with a gentle slope. Best of all was their colour - a true, dark brown, exactly how a chocolate cupcake should look.

As we did not have the recipes side-by-side for comparison, we had to rely on (unreliable) memory for our verdict. While everyone enjoyed the cupcakes, they were not met with the same knee-buckling adoration of the previous version. When I first made the Baking Handbook incarnation of One Bowl Chocolate Cupcakes, I recall thinking that these were simply the best cupcakes ever. This time, not so much. They were good, but not exceptional.

It should be said though, that I am terribly finicky about my chocolate cakes so it takes a good deal to impress. While I shrugged at the taste, there was nary a complaint from our guests. Approximately 5 minutes after the Happy Birthdays and candles blown out, there were quite a few happy faces smeared with whipped ganache frosting.

While my personal assessment of the cupcakes was lackluster, my overall impression of the book from which they came is not. I did not test many recipes from the book (honestly, even I can only eat so many cupcakes) as I would have liked, but I can tell you that the book Martha Stewart Cupcakes is full of fun.

There is an obvious, infectious merriment in the way that the subject matter is treated, and the variations on the theme simply make me smile. One cannot help but be made a bit happier by pages upon pages of sprinkles and gumdrops, marizpan ladybugs, and coconut-feathered chicks.

What's more, the cookbook is inspiring. Ingeniously, the book pushes the boundaries of cupcakery to include all manner of small cakes, and even cookies and meringues, as long as they are baked in that distinctive shape.

There are filled cupcakes, layered mini-cakes, cookie-crusted cheesecakes, and simple pound cakes. Not all cakes are frosted, such as the Tiny Cherry and Almond and Pistachio-Raspberry teacakes, making these gems the ideal everyday treat to be tucked into lunchboxes or enjoyed as an afternoon snack. The combination of flavours, specific decorating techniques and helpful guides (including clip art templates) could all be adapted and developed to suit your specific tastes, and could be applied to the creation of full-sized cakes.

One caveat, as with Martha Stewart's Cookies (Clarkson Potter, 2008), much of the content included in Martha Stewart's Cupcakes has been previously featured in the various publications of Martha Stewart Omnimedia. Personally, I enjoyed having the recipes available in a single source, but others may disagree and might have preferred a wholly originally collection.

Time to get back to the business of being Mum to a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old. Oh my. So big. So fast. So wonderful.

Happy, happy day.

One Bowl Chocolate Cupcakes
From the book Martha Stewart's Cupcakes.

Recipe


More photos from this series shot by my brother and sister-in-law can be seen here.

Now you didn't think that I'd forget to announce the winner of our Martha Stewart Cupcakes giveaway, did you?

Without further wait, Mr. Random.Org took the honour of selecting our winners, as follows.

The First Prize Winner will receive one copy of the Martha Stewart Cupcakes and one copy of Martha Stewart Cookies:
Chocolate Shavings

The Second Prize Winners will each receive a copy of Martha Stewart Cupcakes:
Dor and Michelle R.

I would like to thank everyone who entered, and highly recommend the checking out the fantastic conversation taking place in the comments section. To the winners, please e-mail me at tara [at] sevenspoons [dot] net, with your contact information at your earliest convenience.

One ribbon-tied package (and a winner!)

Thanks to my sis-in-law Rene, for not only hosting the dinner tonight, but also being our photographer. She's especially snazzy.

Sorry about this. Really.

I know, we were chatting about chocolate and coffee just a few days ago. And it seems as though I have had sweets on the brain for weeks now.

But, if ever was there a day when maybe, just maybe dear reader, you could cut me some slack for my repetitive ways, I hope it will be today. Because really, who would begrudge a birthday girl her chocolate wish?

That's right, today was my birthday.

Please excuse my sweet tooth and forgive me for being a trifle scatterbrained just now, but I wanted to stop in to share with you the dessert we chose to celebrate.

Our fancy-dress festivities are not for another few days, so today is all about a night just for family. And for me, if there is one dessert that ties together my thoughts of family and nostalgia all in one ribbon-tied package, it would be my Mum's Mocha Dessert.

When I was little, this Mocha Dessert was the often-requested sweet ending to my parents' dinner parties, parties I considered the height of elegance. Silver was polished to perfection, the good china was brought out, and the menu were planned days in advance. When the night arrived, the men were dapper and the ladies were always dressed to the nines; you can surely imagine how my six-year-old self loved the glamour of dark lipstick and dangling baubles.

I remember their conversations lasting into the night. The deep murmur of their voices, often punctuated by peals of sparkling laughter, made its way through the darkness, up the stairs and to my ears as I strained to catch what was surely exceptionally witty banter. I thought it all terribly romantic.

As an adult, I can appreciate why this simple recipe was the subject of such praise. Layers of graham crackers were sandwiched with coffee cream and drizzled with chocolate sauce. After a night's rest in the icebox, the formerly-disparate components relax into each other. The graham crackers loose all their crispness, the cream turns thick and luscious. In the end, everything is mousselike, with a delicate delineation of layers that yield to the slightest pressure from a spoon. A cross between an icebox cake and a tiramisù, I strongly believe that it was this ethereal confection that started my love affair with coffee.

This cake is ridiculously easy to make and decidedly old school. It is not about bells and whistles, or technique and the latest trend. Instead, like all fond memories, it simply makes me smile.

Of course I had a little bit of business to attend to today, and that is the announcement of the winner of the giveaway. I am happy to say that Random.org has selected Angela as the recipient of a one-year subscription to the food magazine of her choice. Angela, please contact me at tara [at] sevenspoons [dot] net with your contact information.

Thank you to everyone that entered and a here's wishing a happy day to each and every one of you!

Mocha Icebox Cake
Adapted, with thanks, from my Mum. Hers was made and served like a tiramisù, with more cream and less cookie, scooped out for serving. I have turned the dessert out on its head, and added some chocolate whipped cream.

Ingredients
3 1/2 cups heavy (whipping cream), divided
3/4 cup confectioner's sugar, divided
1 tablespoon instant coffee granules
a pinch of salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
45 honey graham crackers, the single kind
1/3 cup chocolate syrup, see note
1/3 cup cocoa powder, sifted

Line an 8-by-8-inch metal cake pan with a cross of clingfilm, leaving an overhang on all sides. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer with the whisk attachment, or in a medium bowl with a hand blender or whisk, begin to whip 2 cups of well-chilled heavy cream. Once the cream begins to thicken, sift in 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar, the coffee granules and salt. With the mixer on medium-high, whip until the cream begins to hold soft peaks. Add the vanilla, and beat until the cream just holds a stiff peak.

Spread a small amount of the cream on the bottom of the prepared cake pan. Lay 9 crackers, in a 3-by-3 grid, on top of the cream. Spoon 1/2 cup of the cream on top of the crackers. Then, using an offset spatula, gently spread the cream to cover the crackers entirely. Drizzle a few tablespoons of the chocolate syrup over the cream, spreading to form an even layer if desired.

Top with another layer of graham crackers, continuing the layering until you have 5 layers of crackers and 4 of the cream and chocolate. Make sure to reserve a small amount of cream to cover the last layer of crackers (no chocolate on this one).

Cover loosely with a piece of clingfilm, then draw the overhanging clingfilm from the sides up to cover the edges. Refrigerate for at least 6 hours and up to 2 days.

About 1 hour before serving, remove the cake from the fridge and peel back the clingfilm. Invert the cake onto a serving plate, removing the remaining clingfilm from the top and sides. Smooth out the sides with an offset spatula if needed. Place the cake in the freezer, uncovered, to chill for 30 minutes.

Prepare the cocoa cream. In the bowl of a stand mixer with the whisk attachment, or in a medium bowl with a hand blender or whisk, begin to whip 1 cup of well-chilled heavy cream. When the cream begins to thicken, sift in the reserved 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar and cocoa powder. With the machine set to medium-high, whip the cream until holds a firm peak, but being careful not to over beat.

Take the cake out of the refrigerator and gently spread a thin layer of the cocoa cream to cover. Once completely covered, use the remaining cream to decorate as desired. Chill the finished cake in the refrigerator for 30 minutes, then serve.

Notes:

• If you are going for authenticity, my Mum used Hershey's Chocolate Syrup (the dessert topping in the yellow tin, not the brown squeeze bottle). But if you are feeling posh you can make your own using one of these recipes.
• For the sake of honesty, I will say that maybe I went a little overboard and used a full 2 cups of cream for the cocoa frosting. The last 1/2 cup looked so sad in its carton, and heck, you only have one birthday a year. Totally not necessary to the cake, but enjoyably decadent. To follow suit, add a bit extra cocoa powder and confectioner's sugar, to taste.
• A pinch or two of instant coffee granules added to the cocoa cream is also a good thing.

A festive fête

Please excuse the rather plain cake plate for serving; I do believe that Mom deserves the frilliest, prettiest of cake stands, but for fear of losing it all in transport, I had to err on the side of (dowdy) sensibleness.

Now with the holiday season in (almost) full swing, one might be expect to find me knee-deep in mistletoe and ornaments. And while those baubles have a place in the house these days, there are also cake pans laying about, a box of icing tips open and waiting, and some birthday candles at the ready.

Today is someone's birthday.

I am lucky enough to have both a Mum and a Mom. "Mum" is my own mother, a woman after whom I follow in many ways - our humour, our aesthetic, and our looks (though neither of us truly see it), are rather in sync. We have a shorthand version of communication, where I can simply describe a situation, often searching to find the right words, and even with those gaps she instinctively knows what I mean and how I would react; because, in truth, she'd most likely react the same way.

My "Mom" is my husband Sean's mother. Coming into my life when I was already headstrong and full of opinions, she is the person who has brought me a new perspective. With distinctly different backgrounds and experiences, it is because of our divergent styles that she has shown me new avenues to expand my horizons. For instance, I never knew how much I adored Depression Glass until I saw her charming collection, and she is now the one with whom I am happy to wander antique markets and country stores.

She is a quilter, whereas I come from a family of knitters; it has been her love of that art that has taught me to appreciate the details of a well-stitched piece, and the beauty in fabrics. It is with her that I have enjoyed conversations over a cup of tea, shared at a tiny table laid perfectly with china and silver and a tiered tray with filled with dainty sandwiches, delectable sweets and delicate scones with cream.

She was the one with whom I bought my earrings for my wedding day.

But most of all what Mom has brought into my life has been enthusiasm; whether it be for the seasons (she has a greener-than-green thumb), the holidays or her grandsons, Mom is one that is ready to embrace each one, with arms open wide. In truth, my celebratory efforts seem minimalist in comparison to hers, me with my clear lights and greenery, her with kaleidoscope of fantastic rainbow-hues and sparkles for days.

Today is her birthday, and in the midst of all the snow outside my window, a winter-white cake seemed apt. Four moist layers of warmly-spiced carrot cake sandwich luscious cream cheese frosting, crowned with a delicate circle of floral-ish decorations. Charmingly vintage, I do hope Mom will approve.

Have a wonderful day.

Mom's Birthday Carrot Cake
I originally came up with this variation on a recipe from Dorie Greenspan for our housewarming party. Mom had spoken fondly of a carrot cake from her childhood, and I was attempting to recreate it for her - happily, she said my efforts were a success. The use of both fresh and dried ginger adds another dimension of subtle, spicy heat.

Ingredients
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
3/4 teaspoon salt
3 cups of grated carrots
1 cup chopped walnuts, toasted
1 cup sweetened, shredded coconut
zest of half an orange, grated fine
1/4 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
1/2 cup golden raisins
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup of dark or old-fashioned brown sugar
1 cup, plus two tablespoons canola oil
4 eggs

1 batch Cream Cheese Frosting from Ina Garten, I omit the almond extract

Preheat the oven to 325°F (160°C). Butter four 8-by-2-inch round cake pans. Dust with flour, and tap out any excess. Set aside.

Into a medium bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, spices and salt. In another medium bowl, stir together the carrots, walnuts, coconut, fresh ginger and orange zest. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, add the oil and sugars. Beat, on medium high speed, for about five minutes or until the mixture is smooth and light. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula now and again.

Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition and scraping down sides of bowl. Reduce speed to low and add the flour mixture, blending just until all the flour is incorporated. With the mixer still on low, add the carrots and stir to combine.

Divide the batter evenly between the four prepared cake pans and bake until golden and a wooden skewer inserted into the center comes out clean, about 25-30 minutes. Cool in pans on a wire rack for about 10 minutes, then turn out to cool completely (turn the cakes right side up).

Smear a bit of frosting on the base of your cake plate or stand. Place one layer on the cake plate, then place four strips of parchment paper around perimeter, tucking the edges under the cake - this parchment will keep the cake plate neat.

Spread between 1/4 to 1/3 of a cup of frosting over the cake (I never have measured, you are aiming for a thin, even layer), then place another cake on top. Repeat process with the next two layers and top with last remaining layer.

Spread top and sides of cake with thinly with frosting, forming what is called a crumb coat. It does not need to be perfect, but the cake should be completely covered so that crumbs will not migrate into the final coat. Chill for at 30 minutes or until the frosting is slightly firm to the touch.

Use the remaining frosting to coat the top and sides of the cake, as desired. Use a thin-bladed knife to score where the frosting meets the parchment paper to break the seal, and remove.

Makes one 8-inch cake.

Notes:
• This cake is exceedingly tender, which is why I use multiple cake pans instead of splitting the layers. You could easily use two pans to make two layers, adjusting the cooking time accordingly.
• The Cream Cheese Frosting is very soft, and not the easiest to pipe. If it gets too warm, chill both the cake and frosting for about 10 minutes to firm up. Even with such measures, keep in mind that this is not the type of frosting that allows for a perfectly-smooth finish.

A backdated Benday

For everyone kind enough to send birthday wishes to Benjamin, or to anyone interested, here is a peak at some of the birthday festivities. Thank you all for helping us celebrated our little man, and a special thank you to my brother for the above photograph.

This one of Ben's three cakes; spiced banana cake layers with carmelized banana filling, topped with brown sugar cream cheese frosting and a bit of salted mixed nut crumble.

Edited to add: For those interested in the recipe, the cake is a spiced variation on the banana layer cake with mascapone frosting from Martha Stewart's Baking Handbook. The frosting I use is Ina Garten's, with a bit of the icing sugar substituted for golden brown. Finally, I top it with a salted-nut praline crumble, of my own recipe.

At this moment, one year ago ...

... our lives completely changed. And for that, we could not be more thankful. Happy Birthday, bundle of boy.