It's 5 o'clock Somewhere

Sometimes I find that I have stuff in my pantry that I never remember buying, nor would I ever have and intended use for. Usually, it's stuff that won't necessarily go bad, or will store in the freezer until some moment of brilliance occurs and suddenly it all makes sense. But there's only so much freezer space that I'm allotted, and quite frankly, I've hit the limit. I'm a definite hoarder. But as they say, acknowledging you have the problem is step one to recovery, right? How perfect that my stashing habit's "therapy" involves baking - and lots of it!

One of the goodies I found when I was cleaning out my pantry and consolidating as much as I could in it was this jar of Sable & Rosenfeld's "Tipsy" chocolate sauce. I can only think that it was probably one of the items in a corporate gift basket my stepfather recieved at some function or Christmas get-together, since aside from downtown Toronto I've never seen the brand anywhere, and I certainly can't partake in a tasting due to my alcohol intolerance! However I wound up with the jar, I had it, and even though there was no marked expiry date I was fairly sure "indefinite" was not applicable. Even with the addition of booze in the mixture, I wanted to kill it before it had the potential to do any killing of it's own - and judging by the alcohol shelf-life guide it was probably best that way.

So, I had my "star ingredient". And, judging by the fact that I had a lunch date on the horizon, I even had some eaters lined up! Now all I needed was a recipe... or at least a theory. Something to jump off of!

Enter the notion of the "crazy cake". It's not a new idea by any stretch of the imagination - it's a go-to vegan cake in it's purest form, and eggless in any incarnation, using vinegar and baking soda to tenderize and leaven like an egg would. Usually water or milk is the preferred "liquid" in the mixture, though I know for chocolate recipes I love using coffee instead! Why couldn't the same basic formula be used to use up the sauce? It was fairly liquid, definitely chocolatey, and would add a whole world of richness due to both the cocoa and cappuccino elements it had. Plus, as a crazy cake, I wouldn't be bound to making a frosting - which I have to admit I abhor.

So I did it, adding a touch of extra milk to make up for the remaining liquid needed in the recipe, using balsamic vinegar instead of regular white, and using both butter and brown sugar for flavour. As it baked, I wondered if I had made a mistake... it smelled incredibly alcoholic, and coffee-like - not a bad thing necessarily, but the smell (at least to me) was a bit much. Thankfully the aroma did dissipate after a while, and the flavour of coffee did nothing but create a mocha nuance that the recipients at my mom's office adored! I'm thinking that if you can't find, or didn't want to buy, the particular kind of sauce I used, a jar of thick hot fudge sauce (not the kind in the bottles, though) with a few shots of Kahlua in it would suffice. Or you can always make your own sauce and add the booze... if you really wanted to make the cake!

"Tipsy" Double Chocolate Cake
Serves 12
1 1/2 cups white whole wheat flour

2 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder

1 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup unsalted butter, softened

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 tbsp balsamic vinegar

1 tbsp vanilla

280 ml (1 cup + 3 tbsp) Sable & Rosenfeld Tipsy Chocolate & Cappuccino Liqueur Sauce (1 jar)
1/3 cup milk

1. Preheat the oven to 330F. Grease a 9" pan.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa, baking soda and salt. Set aside.
3. In a large bowl, cream butter and brown sugar until fluffy. Add vinegar and vanilla, beating well.
4. Add half the dry mixture to the bowl, blending well, then add the chocolate sauce and milk and beat in.
5. Add the remaining dry mixture and mix well.
6. Bake for 45 minutes. Cool completely in the pan before turning out.

Amount Per Serving
Calories: 208.9
Total Fat: 5.9 g
Cholesterol: 10.7 mg
Sodium: 64.9 mg
Total Carbs: 39.9 g
Dietary Fiber: 2.7 g
Protein: 3.9 g

The Sweetness of Corn

Summer can be a fickle thing for us gardeners. On one hand, it's full of days with humid temperatures in the high 30's where the thought of going out into the sun is more anathema than bliss. On the other, there are unbearable periods of nothing but cold, dreary rain that turn fields to mud and prevent any sort of weeding, harvesting or pruning. There are precious few days that are perfect for growing are pounced on, allowing us to get some good, honest dirt under our nails and produce fresh, delicious goodies in our own backyard.

Even when the sun is scorching, beating down on us gardeners and farmers, there is the comfort in knowing that all the heat is working to enhance the sweetness of those tomatoes, bringing those beans to bear and - possibly one of the best gifts of Summer sun - caramelizing the kernels of corn growing in the local fields. There's nothing sweeter (literally) than biting into a fresh cob of locally grown and harvested corn - if you're lucky a super-delicious variety like 'Honey & Cream', 'Lancelot' or (my personal favourite) 'Silver Queen'. Good, fresh corn will get even the sweatiest cooks into the kitchen, boiling water for their score, and even though snacking on an ice cream cone would be a more logical idea I can't say I'm alone in craving a hot, roasted ear when I'm at the CNE at the end of August.

And as if the fresh sugary kernels weren't awesome enough on their own - or perhaps if in a moment of desperation you turn to frozen, canned or *gasp* out of season grocery store fare, there is always cake.

Yes, corn cake, not bread. There is nothing bready about this tasty, buttermilk and vanilla round, except perhaps the single cup of all-purpose flour to bind the works together. The last dregs of a bag of frozen corn discovered in our basement's chest freezer - admittedly not the tastiest kernels of the year, but passable, formed one leg of a corn "tripod", bolstered on either side by cornmeal and corn oil. Semolina flour - the addition that first drew me to Jude's recipe on Apple Pie, Patis & Pate - brings a new texture to the fold as well, and adds a brilliant yellow colour! The result is nicely sweet without being - pardon the expression - candy-corn like, and a unique offering on the dessert table at a BBQ or served with fresh berries and whipped cream to crown off a delicious Summer meal.

But you will have to sacrifice some corn for this. So pick some that you don't particularly adore straight off the cob, dust off the can opener or peer into your freezer's depths. You might be surprised!

Semolina Corn Cake
Serves 14
1 cup fine-ground cornmeal

1 cup + 3 tbsp buttermilk

1 tsp vanilla

2 eggs
6 tbsp corn oil
3/4 cup semolina flour
1 cup flour
4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup corn

1. Preheat the oven to 375F, grease a 9" springform pan.
2. In a large, microwave-safe bowl, combine cornmeal and buttermilk, stirring.
3. Microwave on HI for 30 seconds, stir and allow to sit 10 minutes. Stir in vanilla, eggs and oil.
4. In another bowl combine semolina flour, regular flour, baking powder, salt and sugar. Stir into the cornmeal mixture until just blended, then fold in the corn.
5. Bake 35 minutes, until tests done.

Amount Per Serving
Calories: 208.2
Total Fat: 7.6 g
Cholesterol: 31.2 mg
Sodium: 35.8 mg
Total Carbs: 30.6 g
Dietary Fiber: 1.5 g
Protein: 4.9 g

Medieval Maslin

Have you had your maslin yet today?

Sounds like a kind of fabric, I know - but apparently rye bread, at least how I'm used to eating it, is not technically "rye bread". It is maslin bread. True rye loaves, as well they should be given their name, are supposed to be made of all rye flour or rye meal, leavened exclusively with sourdough and, as you might expect, form a dense, dark (almost black) brick of a loaf perfect for topping with creamy cheese and marmalade. True rye was the bread of the "peasants", helped along by the grain's capability to grow in even peat bogs and the bread's extraordinary shelf life - so while everyone would technically have a loaf for their table, those with the dark, everlasting loaves knew their place as the proverbial "bottom crust". The rich, hoity-toity class got to munch on slices of manchet - essentially today's "French bread" that was as pale as their powdered faces.

But what of the tiny pool of citizens in the Medieval "middle class", then? Well, they certainly weren't about to be allowed in line at the boulangerie for a manchet loaf by the aristocracy. As you can imagine, though, subjecting themselves to the lowly coarse grained ryes. So, unable to afford large amounts of white flour, and unwilling to sup the same as the plebians, the "mid-range" merchants mixed the two, sometimes with other flours such as barley, and formed maslin bread. A few other seeds and spices wove their way into the recipe as money and availability of those ingredients grew, and the lighter colour and texture of the bread became recognized as the "better" rye bread. Different incarnations of maslin began winding up in more sandwich shops and delis as the rye (and general grain bread) trend grew, wrapping around pastrami and encompassing all colours from almost white to nutty brown to swirls of both.

So now, maslin is what you will generally be buying when you shop for "rye bread" - most are still sourdough or at least sponge-leavened to compensate for rye's somewhat complicated habit of breaking down gluten long after wheat's enzymes have died off.  Flavour-wise, you'll usually find caraway seeds lacing the loaves, unless the label specifies it's unseeded. Fennel seeds might make an appearance too, as will molasses (or caramel colour), cocoa powder and/or coffee to make the lighter crumb of the partial rye nice and dark... hinting at the wholesome roots of the true rye without providing the same concentration of fibre and it's accompanying density.  

So when I set about to make my maslin loaf for my mom's weekly nosh, I broke out the whole nine yards - plus some. A good dose of dark rye flour and a rye-based sourdough kicked off the flavour profile, which I built on with both fennel and caraway seed, before adding a bit of crunch from poppy seeds and nutrition from wheat germ, flaxseed and cooked, toasted buckwheat (AKA kasha). Ground espresso beans and a touch of cocoa powder helped out the colour, as did a bittersweet dose of molasses and a rich buckwheat honey. Not really trusting the strength of my starter,  The resulting loaf rose well but stayed moist and slightly dense, slicing beautifully and apparently forming a delicious bed for butter and honey. You'll have to let me know what you think, and check out the rest of the submissions to Susan's Yeastspotting event on Friday.

Maslin Rye Bread

Makes 1 loaf, 16 slices

1 tsp instant yeast

1 2/3 cups rye flour

1 cup whole wheat bread flour

1/4 cup wheat germ

1/4 cup ground flaxseed

2 tbsp poppy seeds

1 tbsp vital wheat gluten

1 tbsp fennel seed

1 tbsp caraway seed

1/2 tsp espresso-grind coffee

1 tsp cocoa powder

1 vitamin C tablet, finely ground

1 cup active sourdough starter

1/4 cup warm water

1/3 cup warm milk

2 tbsp buckwheat honey

1/4 cup molasses

1 tbsp melted butter

1/4 cup kasha (toasted buckwheat), cooked

1/2 tsp salt

1. In a large bowl, combine yeast, flours, wheat germ, flaxseed, poppy seeds, gluten, fennel seed, caraway seed, coffee, cocoa powder and vitamin C powder, whisking well.
2. In a large jug or bowl, whisk together sourdough starter, water, milk, honey and molasses.
3. Add to the dry ingredients, begin mixing on low speed (if using a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook).
4. After 4 minutes, add butter, kasha and salt.
5. Continue mixing for 15 minutes, until supple.
6. Place into a greased bowl, cover and allow to rest 40 minutes.
7. Deflate dough and knead 1 minute.
8. Re-cover and allow to rest 40 minutes.
9. Deflate dough, shape into a loaf and place into a greased loaf pan.
10. Cover and let rise until doubled, about 1 1/2 hours.
11. Preheat oven to 375F.
12. Bake loaf 20 minutes, then cover top with foil and bake a further 20 minutes.

Amount Per Serving

Calories: 148.8

Total Fat: 2.9 g

Cholesterol: 2.3 mg

Sodium: 10.8 mg

Total Carbs: 27.8 g

Dietary Fiber: 6.2 g

Protein: 5.8 g 

How "Flookie"

Imagine, if you will... rich, French vanilla ice cream floating in a tall, frosty glass of root beer - but in solid form. No, it's not the Twilight Zone, nor is it some sort of astronaut ice cream invention. Rather, it is a sweet icebox sugar cookie that I have dubbed the "root beer flookie". Again, it's one of the many products that come from my occasional attempts to organize my pantry. I also wanted to bake something as a "welcome home" gift for my RMT, who just so happens to be a foodie in his own right! More than anything though, I think these cookies were the spawn of my hyperactive imagination and boredom one day... but if I can find people to pawn the goods off onto, I'll take that excuse too!

To get the rich flavour of the "root beer" part of the swirl (and what  made my RMT go "what is that flavour??"), I used a full bottle of LorAnn's Root Beer Flavouring (the 1-dram size). Don't be fooled by the tiny bottle though - that stuff is strong, and more than capable enough of doing the job for the entire cookie batch. Colouring was just a simple addition of cocoa powder, though I suppose if you had brown food colouring you could use that too! The French vanilla side of things was taken care of with one of my favourite cookie-making secrets - vanilla custard powder - and a nice shot of double-strength vanilla extract. Now, I know when the cookie purists out there read the ingredient list you are going to pooh-pooh the idea of using mostly shortening in the dough... well, the thing is, I have never had a whole lot of success with all-butter sugar cookies, since they spread way too much for my liking, and this ratio of shortening to butter seems to give both the best flavour and the best texture as far as the end product is concerned. I'm sure you can use all butter in these, just like how you could use all white flour instead of the blend of white and white whole wheat that I did.

Root Beer "Flookies"

Makes about 45

¾ cup sugar
pinch salt
2/3 cup shortening
1/3 cup butter, softened
1 egg white
2 1/4 cups flour
2 cups white whole wheat flour
1/8 tsp baking powder
¼ cup skim milk
1 tbsp cocoa powder
1 tsp LorAnn's root beer flavouring
1/2 tbsp water
1 tbsp vanilla custard powder (you can substitute an equal measure of cook-and-serve vanilla pudding)
1 tbsp pure double-strength vanilla extract

1. Cream together sugar, salt, shortening and butter until fluffy.
2. Add egg white, beat well.
3. Combine flours and baking powder, and gently mix in alternately with the milk to form a smooth mixture.
4. Divide dough in half.
5. Add cocoa powder, root beer flavouring and water to one half of the dough, mixing well.
6. To the other portion of dough, stir in custard powder and vanilla.
7. Wrap doughs individually in plastic and chill 1 hour.
8. Between sheets of parchment or waxed paper, roll out one of the doughs into a very thin, roughly rectangular layer.
9. Separately, between more sheets of parchment or waxed paper, roll out the other portion in a similar fashion.
10. Flip one dough portion on top of the other and trim the edges so the dough is a smooth rectangle.
11. Beginning from one of the long edges, roll dough up into a log.
12. Re-wrap in plastic and place in the freezer for 1 hour, until very firm (almost frozen).
13. Preheat oven to 400F.
14. Working quickly with a very sharp (or serrated) knife, cut discs of dough about a pencil-width thick and place cookies on a parchment or silicone-lined sheet (don't grease the sheet, though, it doesn't seem to work... and they don't spread too much so about 1/2" of space is fine).
15. Replace excess dough in the freezer while the first batch bakes - you must bake these one sheet at a time.
16. Bake 10 minutes on the lowest rack of the oven. Move parchment or silicone sheets to a rack to cool and bake subsequent sheets the same way.

Amount Per Serving
Calories: 97.3
Total Fat: 4.6 g
Cholesterol: 5.3 mg
Sodium: 12.0 mg
Total Carbs: 12.6 g 
Dietary Fiber: 0.9 g
Protein: 1.7 g

The Fudge Brownie Bastardization

Or rather the bastardization of one of the ingredients, if you want to believe David's nonsense opinions (just kidding... hugs, D!). Apparently the avocado-banana toffee cake I made a few days ago caused quite a stir over at Hobbits, Home and Abroad! But gosh-darn it, it worked. Verified by the *holder* of the Visa card - A.K.A. mommy dearest. And I still had two avocadoes left in my fridge, begging to be used, as well as a bar of imported chocolate yumminess from Italy and a bottle of tart cherry concentrate I recieved as a prize from Michelle's Miracle via The Foodie Blogroll (along with some dried cherries). So while I'm sorry to disappoint you, David (actually, I detest the scaly-skinned fruit, so I don't feel too bad), but yes - it is another dessert with the alligator pear. And chocolate. And cherries.

If you subscribe to the same line of thinking though - that avocadoes should not be tampered with beyond the ubiquitous guacamole, I have a bit of a band-aid for your pain. There is some booze in it too... and really, how could you not love low(er) fat, boozy, chocolate fudge goodness? Even if it is the product of senseless avocado destruction?

So, truce?

I'm fairly certain I had something else to say about these, but in all honesty I can't think of what that was. Except that if you like fudgy, no-holds-barred brownies, make these. And the frosting. Seriously. Just don't expect to want to share much, and I dare you not to want to lick the frosting spatula when you're done.

Hass - ta la Vista Brownies
Adapted from Janet Hudson (brownie) and Tasha the Voracious Vegan (frosting)
Makes 16 rich squares

Brownie
1 Hass avocado
Pinch of salt

3/4 cup brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
3.5 oz bittersweet chocolate (100g), melted
3/4 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1/4 cup sweet rice flour
1 tbsp cocoa powder
1/2 cup coconut milk
1/4 cup tart cherry concentrate
3 tbsp water
2 tbsp dried cherries, soaked in Kirsch or hot water and drained

Icing
1 Hass avocado
1 tbsp agave nectar
2 tbsp powdered sugar
3 tbsp cocoa

1 tbsp coconut milk

2 tbsp shredded coconut

1. Preheat oven to 350F, line and grease grease a 9" square pan.
2. In a large bowl beat together avocado pulp, salt, brown sugar, vanilla and vinegar.
3. Stir in melted chocolate until well combined.
4. Add flours and cocoa powder, stirring gently, then add coconut milk, cherry concentrate and water and mix well.
5. Fold in dried cherries.
6. Bake 20 minutes.
7. Cool completely in the pan, then chill overnight before frosting.

1. For frosting, combine avocado, agave, sugar, cocoa and coconut milk in a food processor and whip until smooth.
2. Spread on chilled brownies and sprinkle with coconut.
3. Chill completely before cutting.

Amount Per Serving

Calories: 162.4

Total Fat: 8.3 g

Cholesterol: 0.0 mg

Sodium: 13.8 mg

Total Carbs: 25.8 g

Dietary Fiber: 3.4 g

Protein: 2.1 g