Honey & Walnut Cake (with a Shiny Chocolate Glaze)

I have had my eye on the Honey Walnut Cake in Maria Helm Sinskey’s The Vineyard Kitchen ever since I added her book to my cookbook library…which is to say, for a long time.  Last week I finally got around to making it.  I wanted to include it in the next installment of a series of classes I have been teaching with recipes (and variations of recipes) from cookbooks that are organized around the seasons. 

I admit that I was disappointed in the result.  In fairness, I think that my reaction had more to do with the cake I had been imagining all of this time rather than any flaw in the recipe.  The cake I produced from her recipe was firm and fine grained (rather pound cake-like, in fact) and lightly sweet.  I think I expected something softer (honey cakes tend to be soft)…and sweeter.   So rather than adjust my expectations, I decided to try and come up with the cake I wanted….one that kept Sinskey’s delicious flavors (honey and toasted walnut…with just a touch of orange), but had the texture and sweetness that I had imagined.

As I began to look around, I was surprised to discover that there weren’t a lot of honey cakes made with nut flour with which to compare her recipe.  I finally ran across a plain honey cake at King Arthur.  As I compared the recipes it seemed to me that if I substituted walnut flour for the whole wheat flour in the King Arthur recipe that I might have a cake that, with the addition of a little vanilla and orange zest, would actually be the cake I wanted—loftier from the addition of an egg…and softer and sweeter because it was sweetened with all honey (and quite a bit more of it at that).  I’m happy to report it worked beautifully. 

Neither cake in its original form is frosted.  The King Arthur cake includes a scattering of almonds…and Sinskey decorates her cake with a few honey glazed walnuts.   There is of course nothing wrong with this.  I think that if you make this cake and serve it plainly—with maybe a light sifting of powdered sugar—that you will have a delicious little snack cake.  But from the beginning, I have thought that this cake was crying out for some chocolate.

 Not only does the chocolate taste delicious with the honey and walnut flavors of the cake, but the shiny chocolate and honey glaze I made looks fantastic as a background for Sinskey’s honey glazed walnuts.  The cake still makes a fine afternoon snack…with a cup of tea…   But with the chocolate glaze it becomes elegant enough for a dinner party or other special autumn occasion.  And since honey cakes have excellent keeping qualities (staying moist and delicious for several days), you can make this cake at least a day ahead…leaving you free to work on other things the day of your party.  Basically it’s a perfect autumn and holiday dessert….which is sort of what I had in mind all along…. 
    

  

Honey & Walnut Cake

142g (1 1/2 c.) walnuts

112g (1 c.) all purpose flour 

1/2 t. baking soda

1/2 t. salt

170g (12 T.) unsalted butter, at room temperature (very soft)

Zest of 1 orange

340g (1 c.) honey

4 large eggs (at room temperature)—beaten until smooth

60g (1/4 c.) yogurt

1 t. vanilla

Preheat the oven to 350°F.  Spread the walnuts on a small baking sheet and toast until golden and fragrant—about 8 minutes.  Remove the nuts from the oven and let cool.  Using a rotary nut grinder, grind the walnuts to a flour.

Reduce the oven temperature to 325°F.  Lightly butter a 9-inch round cake pan (2 inches deep). Line the pan with a round of parchment.  Butter the parchment.  Flour the pan, tapping out the excess. 

In a medium bowl, whisk together the walnut and all purpose flours, baking soda, and salt; set aside.

Place the butter and orange zest in the bowl of an electric mixer.  With the machine running, add the honey.  When the honey is mostly incorporated, add the eggs in the same manner. Scrape down the sides and mix briefly until the mixture is mostly smooth (there may still be flecks of butter visible…this is OK.)  

Fold in the reserved flour mixture.  Stir in the yogurt and vanilla.  Scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl to be sure everything is evenly moistened.  After scraping, mix again just until you have a smooth, medium-thick batter.  Over mixing will result in a dense, slightly greasy, cake. 

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan.  Bake for 45 to 50 minutes, until the edge of the cake pulls back from the edge of the pan and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  The cake will also be springy to the touch.  Remove from the oven and place on a rack to cool for 10 to 15 minutes before removing from the pan.  Cool the cake right side up on a wire rack.  The cake may be served plainly (with a dusting of powdered sugar), or with a chocolate glaze. 

Serves 12. 

(Recipe adapted from King Arthur and The Vineyard Kitchen by Maria Helm Sinskey)

Chocolate Honey Glaze (from Cocolat): Place 3 oz. of chopped bittersweet chocolate in a microwave safe bowl along with 2 oz. of unsalted butter (cut into pieces) and 1 1/2 T. (32g) of honey. Microwave on medium (50% power) until almost melted. Stir gently until completely smooth. Cool until the glaze mounds briefly before disappearing when dropped from a spoon. Place the cake on a wire rack set over a parchment lined sheet pan.  Pour the glaze directly over the center of the cake and using an offset spatula, spread the glaze out to the edges allowing it to drip naturally down the sides.  When the glaze is mostly set, garnish with honey glazed walnuts, if desired.

Honey-Glazed Walnuts:  Choose 12 attractive, walnut halves.  Toast in a 350° oven until golden and fragrant (5 to 8 minutes).  Remove from the oven and while still warm, place in a bowl and drizzle with 1/2 to 1 T. of honey.  Stir until well coated.  Transfer to a rack.  Garnish the edge of the cake with the glazed walnut halves.

Printable Version

A Sweet Summer Treat from the Garden: Lemon Verbena Ice Cream with a Blueberry Swirl

One of the happiest plants in my garden this summer is my Lemon Verbena.  Not only does it not seem to be fazed by our extreme heat and humidity…it is thriving.  I have never grown it before, so its resilience and determination have been a surprise.  Its perky presence on my patio is a welcome sight…  Even if its use were only ornamental, that would be enough for it to have earned it an annual spot in my garden.  But of course, this lovely herb has other uses as well…many of them culinary.

Prior to this summer I was familiar with Lemon Verbena because of its popularity in France (where it goes by the name of Verveine).  It is a favorite there—in both its fresh and dried form—for making tisanes (or herbal tea).   If you have a plant, you can make a tisane to enjoy this evening:  simply snip off a sprig (or two) and place in a cup or mug.  Add water that is just off the boil.  Let steep for five minutes or so…  Then enjoy.  There is no need to remove the leaves before you sip.  The flavor will continue to get stronger as it sits…but not unpleasantly so.

I have enjoyed tisanes made at the home of my best friend from college (a Francophile for as long as I have known her—and who seeks out a Lemon Verbena plant every summer to make her beloved tisane de verveine), but had never considered getting a plant of my own.  But this year, I scheduled a joint cooking class featuring the abundant produce of midsummer with my chef friend Nancy.  Nancy planned to prepare an Italian jam tart and I wanted to make something—preferably ice cream—to go with it.  As I thought about possible flavors, lavender honey came to mind…but I have already taught that.  It was a short leap from lavender (an herb forever associated with France, in my mind) to verveine. 

Lemon Verbena is often used to flavor desserts—either by steeping a liquid (as for the tisane) or infusing some sugar.  To infuse sugar, simply put some bruised leaves in a jar with some sugar, cover tightly and let sit for a couple of weeks—shaking every few days to break up clumps that will begin to form as the sugar absorbs the moisture in the fresh herbs.  When the infusion is done, strain out the herbs and store the sugar tightly covered.  Deborah Madison in her book Local Flavors recommends using about a quarter cup of leaves to infuse two cups of sugar.  The sugar is especially nice used in something simple like a pound cake or shortbread cookies.

Nancy chose to use blueberries (from a local patch) in her jam tart.  The combination of the blueberry tart with the lemon verbena ice cream was fantastic.  I’m guessing that the combination would have been pretty fine with just about any jam made with the abundant berries or stone fruits of midsummer.

Because I liked the combination of the blueberries with the lemon verbena so much, the recipe I’m sharing today is the Lemon Verbena ice cream that I made for class…with a blueberry swirl.  You can of course make the ice cream without the swirl and serve it with any number of the jam and summer fruit based desserts I have posted over the years (jam tart…jam bars…mixed berry crumble bars…)…but I have been enamored by the idea of a marbled lemon verbena ice cream ever since I ran across a lemon verbena and raspberry swirl ice cream while I was working on my recipe.  You could of course make that exact flavor with some homemade raspberry compote.  I also think blackberry (if you strain out the seeds) would make a great combination with the lemon verbena too.

As far as the ice cream itself goes, I used the standard formula that I use in all of my ice creams.  I use half milk and half cream and for every cup of cream/milk I use 2 egg yolks and 50 grams of sugar or honey.  I usually only incorporate a small amount of honey (mostly because I like the way an invert sugar gives a softer and smoother texture to the finished ice cream), but for this ice cream I used half honey so that you can actually taste the honey…it is delicious in combination with the floral taste of the lemon verbena. 

Finally, I have given the amount of lemon verbena leaves by weight.  It is my habit to cook and bake this way and it is a much more accurate way of measuring something like leaves that are kind of difficult to quantify (I’m guessing that one person’s “packed cup” of leaves would not weight the same as another’s).  But since a lot of American bakers still don’t have a scale, I’m including a way to measure without it.  Simply cut the leaves in rough 1/2 inch lengths and then drop them lightly into a 3/4 cup measure.  When you get to the top, you have enough. 

But having said all that, I think you would end up with a pretty fine ice cream if you just grabbed a nice big handful of leaves.  Your plant will be very happy and grow bigger after you have “pruned” it to make ice cream, too.  So much so that you will just have to acquire an evening herb tea habit …. or make some infused sugar (so you can have cake or cookies with your tea) …and of course, make more ice cream.

Lemon Verbena & Honey Ice Cream

with a Blueberry Swirl

1 1/2 c. (225g.) blueberries

1/4 c. (50 g.) sugar

1/2 T. lemon juice

2 c. milk

Pinch of salt

10 g. lemon verbena leaves, cut cross-wise in rough 1/2-inch pieces (you should have about 3/4 c. loosely layered cut leaves)

2 c. cold heavy cream

8 egg yolks

1/2 c. sugar

1/3 c. raw honey (4 oz.)

Wash the blueberries and place them in a small saucepan with the sugar and lemon juice.  Set the pan over moderately high heat and cook, stirring constantly until the sugar is dissolved and the blueberries begin to simmer.  Cook at an active simmer/low boil, stirring occasionally (and mashing the berries as you do), until you have a thick, syrup-y compote.  This will take about 7 to 10 minutes and you should have 3/4 c. compote when you are done..  Cool to room temperature.  Transfer to a covered container and chill until cold.  (Compote may be made several days ahead.  Store in the refrigerator.)

Place the milk and salt in a medium-sized, non-reactive saucepan.  Heat to just under a simmer.  Remove from the heat, add the verbena leaves, cover and let steep for an hour to an hour and a half (depending on how strong you want the flavor to be).

When ready to make the ice cream base, strain out the verbena, pressing hard with a spatula or ladle to extract as much of the liquid as you can. Discard the verbena. Place the chilled heavy cream into a large bowl and place the strainer used to strain out the verbena over this bowl.   

Return the infused milk to the heat and bring to a boil. While the milk is heating, whisk the egg yolks with the sugar until smooth and thick. When the milk boils, temper the egg yolks by gradually whisking in about half to two-thirds of the hot milk. Stir the tempered egg mixture back into the saucepan and place the pan over medium heat. Cook, stirring constantly, until the custard is thickened and forms a path when you draw your finger across the back of the spoon (if you like. you may check the temperature with an instant read thermometer—it should be about 170° to 175°). 

Immediately strain the custard into the bowl of cold cream. Add the honey and stir until the honey has melted. Cover and refrigerate until thoroughly chilled (eight hours or overnight).

Freeze the ice cream in an ice cream machine according to the manufacturer’s instructions. When finished, transfer the ice cream from the churn to a chilled container.  Choose a 1 1/2 to 2 quart container that is shallow and wide. Working quickly, layer in a quarter of the verbena ice cream (smooth it out into an even layer).   Dollop and drizzle a scant third of the blueberry compote.  

It is not necessary to marble it in (it will marble naturally as you scoop it to serve it).  Repeat this layering of a quarter of the ice cream and a scant third of the compote two more times.  Add the remainder of ice cream, once again smoothing it out.  You should have a tablespoon or two of the compote left.  Dollop this over the surface of the ice cream, marbling it in a bit, if you like.  Cover the container and place in the freezer.  Freeze for at least an hour or two before serving.  

Makes about a quart and a half of ice cream.

Note:  My original idea for this ice cream was to just use a homemade blueberry jam for the swirl.  All of the jam makers out there know that this basically means using a substantially higher quantity of sugar (for this quantity of blueberries, around 1/2 cup plus 2 T.).  The texture of the frozen ribbon of blueberries when made with this higher quantity of sugar is quite smooth and suave.  Unfortunately, the overall effect on the ice cream is one of tooth shattering sweetness (at least to my palate). If your berries are very tart, you might consider increasing the sugar in the compote.  For moderately tart blueberries though, I love the counterpoint of the sweet, floral ice cream with the slightly tart swirl of fruit, and I am not bothered by the slight frosty-ness of the swirl when the blueberries are cooked with the lesser amount of sugar. 

Printable Version

Pear Upside-Down Honey-Spice Cake and the Beginning of the Pleasures of Autumn...

I'm certain that I have mentioned in previous September posts that the summer to autumn turn of the year is the one time I find myself wanting to put on the brakes and hang on to the previous season with all my might.  I actually prefer the cooler temperatures of autumn...but I dread the loss of the light.

This year feels different though.  We had an extremely cool and temperate August (I'm not sure the temperature went over 90° even once...which is sort of unprecedented in the Midwest)...so I've kind of begun to get used to the idea of autumn a bit earlier than usual.  Moreover, I began eating pears early this year.  Pears always begin showing up at the farmers' market in August.  And I resolutely resist them until mid September...or even later.  But not this year.  One of the growers at my new farmers' market grows a huge variety of pears and has kindly offered me samples of several.  They have been spectacular.  I have especially enjoyed them since the local peach harvest came to a much earlier end than usual (or so it seemed to me).

As I have been considering what to do with these beautiful pears (other than simply eating them raw as a snack or in a salad) I remembered a dessert that I haven't thought about in years: a Pear Upside-down Honey-Spice Cake that I developed for the National Honey Board.  I'm not sure why I ever stopped making this cake. It is just the kind of simple, elegant-but-with-no-frills kind of cake that I like. 

If you like gingerbread, you will love this cake.  I developed it using a favorite gingerbread cake as a starting point (albeit with a greatly reduced level of spice—the original amount would have overwhelmed the delicate perfume of the honey and the pears).  Since I have altered that favorite gingerbread cake in the intervening years since I developed the honey cake, I decided to change the honey cake when I made it this time, too.  I like the new version even better than my original.

I made my cake with local Warren pears and local honey from my farmers' market.  And I encourage you to seek out local ingredients for your cake too.  Any flavorful and fragrant honey that tastes good with the pears will be good in this cake. And any pear that is similar to the Bartletts, Boscs, and Anjous that typically populate the produce aisles of your local grocery store will be fine.  Look for medium-sized (6 to 7 oz. each) pears that are just beginning to be ripe.  They should still be slightly firm for this cake.

Typically at the end of August and during the early days of September I am scrambling to make as much of the end of the peach season as possible—peach coffee cake, peach shortcake,  peach galettes....  Pears don’t begin to make their way into my baking until late September (actual autumn).   But this year, making this very autumnal pear & spice cake over the Labor Day weekend was truly a pleasure.  Having it on hand to enjoy helps me to remember that there are delights associated with every season.  So here's to autumn....and to the bounty of pleasures to be found in the season to come.    

Pear Upside-Down Honey-Spice Cake

Honey-Spice Cake:

4 oz. (8 T.) unsalted butter

425 g. (1 1/4 c.) honey

1 egg, beaten

240 g. (3/4 c). buttermilk

1 t. vanilla

230 g. (2 c.) all-purpose flour

1/2 t. salt

1 t. baking soda

1 t. ground ginger

1/2 t. ground cloves

1/4 t. cinnamon

Pear Topping:

4 firm but ripe Bartlett (or similar) pears (about 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 lbs total)

200 g. (1 c.) granulated sugar

40 g. (3 T.) butter (salted or unsalted...as you prefer)

Preheat the oven to 350°.  Butter a 10x2 –inch round cake pan (do not use a shallower pan—the cake will over-flow).

Put the stick of butter and the honey in a saucepan and place over medium heat.  Gently warm until the butter is melted—do not let the honey boil.  Whisk to combine; set aside and keep warm.  In a small bowl, combine the egg, buttermilk and vanilla; set aside.  Place the dry ingredients in a large bowl and whisk to blend; set aside.

Peel the pears.  Cut into quarters lengthwise and remove the cores.  Cut each quarter in half lengthwise.  Place the sugar in a nonstick (cast iron is perfect) sauté pan and place over medium high to high heat.  Watch carefully—the sugar will begin to melt almost immediately and will turn to caramel as it melts.  Shake the pan back and forth occasionally to prevent the melted sugar from burning and to expose more dry sugar to the heat.  If the sugar begins to smoke, lower the heat a bit.  Eventually there will be a few hard lumps of sugar floating in liquid caramel.  Remove from the heat and stir with a wooden spoon until all the remaining lumps and all the sugar granules are dissolved and the caramel is a clear golden amber.  Briefly return the pan to the heat to dissolve any stubborn lumps and, if necessary to deepen the color a bit.  This whole process will only take a minute or two.  Remove the pan from the heat and add the 3 T. of butter—be careful, the hot caramel will sputter when the butter is added.  Stir until the butter is incorporated and the caramel is smooth.

Working quickly, pour the hot caramel into the prepared cake pan—tilting the pan to completely cover the bottom.  Being careful not to burn your fingers on the hot caramel, fan the pears in a circle around the edge of the cake pan; fill in the center with the remaining 6 or 7 pear slices.  If the caramel hardens before the pears are in place, set the pan over low heat (or in the oven) to soften the caramel.  It is important that the pears are “stuck” in the caramel as it sets up as the batter is quite thin, and the pears will float if they are not “attached” to the caramel.  Set the pan aside.

Pour the honey/butter mixture over the dry ingredients and whisk until smooth.  Add the egg mixture and mix with a rubber spatula until well combined.  Pour the batter over the pears.  Bake the cake until the cake springs back when pressed very lightly and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean—about 40 minutes.   

Cool the cake for 10 minutes in the pan.  Invert the cake onto a serving platter. 

Serve slices of cake with a dollop of lightly sweetened whipped cream drizzled with a little honey.  Also, if you used unsalted butter in the pear topping, a few flakes of sea salt sprinkled over each slice really lifts the flavors.  Cake serves 12.

Notes:

• If you don't have a 10- by 2-inch round cake pan, a 10-inch cast iron skillet is perfect. 
• It is very important to prepare the recipe in the order written—i.e. to mix the dry ingredients, honey-butter syrup, and the egg-buttermilk-vanilla mixture first before peeling and slicing the pears and making the caramel. Not only do you have to work quickly to embed the pears into the caramel before it hardens, you must finish mixing the batter and then put it in the pan immediately after combining the pears and caramel. The reason for this is that the pears begin to cook and release their juices almost immediately upon contact with the hot caramel. When they release enough liquid, they will begin to detach from the hard caramel...and will float in the batter rather than staying stuck to the bottom of the pan. 
• If your pears are larger than about 6 or 7 oz. each you will probably only need 3 pears. If his is the case, cut them into 10 or 12 slices each instead of 8.

Printable Version

David Lebovitz's Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chip Granola

I think I have mentioned before that I sometimes share recipes on my blog mostly for my own benefit.  Since I cook so many different things...in so many different places....and under such a variety of circumstances...it can sometimes be difficult to remember what I did on a particular occasion with a particular recipe.  My blog has been a wonderful way to document—not just with words, but with pictures (which are extremely helpful)—what I did and how I did it.  This documentation gives me a reasonably good chance of reproducing something that I particularly liked on a future date.  Today's post is one of those kinds of posts—although, I think anyone who loves peanut butter...and chocolate...and granola...will be happy to know about this recipe.

The recipe is for David Lebovitz's fantastic Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chip Granola.  When I made it the first time a couple of years ago—and loved it enough to make it immediately again and give it as a gift—I made it exactly as it was written (or so I thought) and shared a picture of my results with a link to Lebovitz's original post on my Facebook page, thinking this would be enough.  But this weekend, when I went to make it again, I found that I couldn't remember a few things....  Old fashioned or quick oats?  What brand of chocolate?  Etc, etc..... 

So...for my own future reference...here are my observations and preferences, in no particular order:

The original recipe calls for maple syrup or honey...your choice.  But since I think granola is better on the sweeter side...and honey is sweeter than maple syrup, I went with honey.  Also...peanut butter and honey sort of belong together.  At least in my mind....

I have only made this recipe with old fashioned oats.  I think they give an addictively chewy and substantial result.  I can only assume that quick oats would give a lighter—and also less clumpy (since the peanut butter goop has to cover more surface area with the more thinly shaved quick oats)—result. 

There were lots of comments and questions on Lebovitz's original post about putting the chocolate chips in the oven...  Wouldn't they melt?  Lebovtiz says that commercial chips are made with baking resistant chocolate so they will be fine.  He goes on to say that if you chop up a bar of quality chocolate instead, you will have some difficulties (i.e.—melting in the oven).  So...even though I was dubious... and even though several commenters had had difficulties with this very thing...I trusted that the chips wouldn't melt.  (In general I think Lebovitz's recipes are accurate and reliable.)  And just like he promised, they did not melt.  I remember that they did seem to want to get soft....but found that if I carefully turned the granola over with a pancake turner—as opposed to vigorously stirring with a wooden spoon or spatula—that the chips maintained their shape and their presence in the granola. 

Because I was in a hurry this time, I didn't look up my old Facebook post to see if I mentioned what kind of chocolate chips I used.  I always keep Nestle's semi-sweet chips on hand, but for some reason I had it in my head that I had used Ghirardelli's Bittersweet (60%) chips (which are my favorite).  It became evident very quickly (when I tried to stir the granola at the half way point) that I had not used Ghirardelli's Bittersweet before.  The chips were visibly melting and I was unable to stir.  When I checked my Facebook post, I saw that I had mentioned that I used Nestle's....  (Now I have it written down in two places...hopefully I'll bother to look before I dive in next time.)

Because I was unable to stir the recent batch of granola, I did discover something useful.  If you happen to be someone who prefers your granola in large, snackable shards (I admit to being one of these kinds of people), then not stirring is the way to go.  You will be able to break the granola up a bit after it cools, but it will still tend to want to remain in large clumps and chunks.  If you like a more free-flowing granola—appropriate for sprinkling over your yogurt at breakfast—make sure you stir once or twice (during the baking process, and as the granola cools).

Finally, I discovered this last time that purchasing dry roasted nuts and seeds isn't as straight forward as one would hope.  Look for nuts and seeds that have just nuts/seeds and salt.  A national brand that shall remain nameless adds all kinds of junk and flavorings (including celery, paprika, onion and garlic flavoring...not things I want in my sweet granola...).  If unadulterated dry roasted nuts are not available you can always purchase raw product and toast and salt them yourself.  Or...simply buy nuts that have been roasted with oil.  Either of these is better than being able to taste garlic...or celery...in your granola. 

This really is a fine recipe...and if you love granola...and peanut butter and chocolate...you should definitely make it.  I do have to admit though, I laugh every time I read one line of the recipe.  Lebovitz tells us that you can "store the granola in an airtight container at room temperature. It will keep for one to two months."  It is of course likely that this is a true statement....but I'm not sure in what universe someone could manage to make a batch of this granola last for longer than a few days.

 

David Lebovitz's Chocolate Chip and Peanut Butter Granola

If you want big shards of granola that you can snack on, don't stir the granola as it bakes.  If you want a more traditional, separated, granola, be sure to stir once or twice during baking...and a few times as the granola cools.

3 cups (300g) old-fashioned rolled oats

1 cup (150g) dry roasted (lightly salted) peanuts

3/4 cup (120g) chocolate chips

1/2 cup (70g) sunflower seeds (dry roasted, lightly salted)

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon sea salt or kosher salt

1/2 cup (130g) smooth peanut butter (regular)
1/2 cup (160g) mild-flavored honey
1/4 cup (60g) packed light brown sugar
2 tablespoons water

Preheat the oven to 325ºF (165ºC).  In a large bowl, mix together the oats, peanuts, chocolate chips, sunflower seeds, cinnamon, and salt.

In a small saucepan, warm the peanut butter, honey, brown sugar, and water over low heat, stirring constantly just until the mixture is smooth. The mixture will be barely tepid...don’t get the mixture too hot or it will separate.  (If this happens, stick the pan in a large bowl of ice water and stir until the mixture cools down and becomes homogenous and smooth.)

Scrape the peanut butter mixture into the dry ingredients and mix it in well, coating the oats, peanuts and seeds well.

Transfer the granola mixture to a parchment-lined baking sheet and spread it in an even layer.

Toast the granola in the oven for 20 to 25 minutes, or until the granola is a golden brown all over.  If you are going to "stir" during baking (see note above), use a pancake turner-style spatula to flip the granola over in sections...stirring in the traditional sense will smash the softening chocolate chips.  When you stir, make sure you get the granola on the edges moved toward the center and the granola in the center of the pan moved to the edges since the edges tend to darken quicker than the center. Remove from oven and let cool completely.  Makes about 6 to 8 cups, depending on whether you have shards or crumbly granola. 

Storage: Store the granola in an airtight container at room temperature. It will keep for one to two months.

(Recipe from davidlebovitz.com) 

Printable Recipe

Holiday Almond Cake with Clementine Syrup and a Chocolate Glaze

Last year, right before Christmas, I happened across a recipe that looked so good I made it right away even though my baking list for the holidays was already quite long.  I served it as part of my family's Christmas Eve buffet.  I loved it so much that I made a mental note to make it again for the following Christmas (this year)...and to share the recipe here.

Besides being absolutely delicious, the cake—a clementine scented almond cake, cloaked in a dark chocolate glaze—was everything it was advertised to be:  light in texture...and an excellent keeper.  Under normal circumstances, this last quality wouldn't be a priority....this cake is pretty hard to resist...but at Christmas—when there are so many sweet things to eat—it really is nice to have a cake on hand that slices into beautiful, thin slivers...and also stays moist and flavorful for at least a week.  With its citrus and almond flavors...and its longer shelf life, it really is a perfect holiday cake.

The source of the recipe is the book Jerusalem (by Yotam Ottolenghi & Sami Tamimi)...although I ran across it in an article on Christmas "puddings" at The Guardian.  Anytime I make a cake (or any kind of baked good) from a recipe that has come to me unchanged from another country, I always examine it carefully before attempting it in my kitchen.  Ingredients vary—sometimes quite a bit—from country to country and in baking the difference in the size of an egg, the protein content of the flour, etc., can make the difference between success and failure.  As I examined this recipe, I realized that the ingredient percentages were quite similar to a couple of cakes that are already in my regular repertoire:  Amor Polenta and my pistachio cake. 

Both of these cakes use cake flour, so I used cake flour instead of the British "plain flour" called for in the recipe.  Plain flour is not quite as low protein as cake flour...and plain flour is probably not bleached...but I still felt the cake flour (since it is what I use in the two other cakes) would give a better result than a straight substitution of my normal unbleached, all-purpose flour. 

The only other change I made was to the method.  It is a bit unusual in that the nut flour is creamed into the creamed sugar and butter before adding the eggs, but it is the same way I make the Amor Polenta and the pistachio cake.  Since it works well for these cakes, I was fairly certain it would to the same for this cake too.  And it did.

I realize the holidays are for the most part over...and that many people will be starting their diets tomorrow.   In light of these things, a holiday cake recipe might not be the best post at the moment....   But even if you are starting a diet, the best kind of diet allows you a treat once in a while.  I think this cake would make a pretty satisfying special treat.  Furthermore, clementines will continue to be in season and delicious for another month or so.  During that time I feel confident that there will be many occasions for which this cake would be perfect.  And if not, there's always next Christmas.  It will be here before we know it.

Almond Cake with Clementine Syrup & Chocolate Glaze

100 g. cake flour

1/2 t. salt

200 g. unsalted butter

300 g. granulated sugar

Zest of 4 clementines

Zest of 1 lemon

280 g. fine almond meal, lightly toasted (see notes)

1 t. vanilla

5 large eggs, room temperature

Juice of 4 clementines, strained

Juice of 1 lemon, strained

80 g. sugar

90 g. unsalted butter, diced

150 g. bittersweet chocolate, broken up

1/2 T. (10 g.) honey

1/2 T. brandy

55 to 60 gr. diced candied orange peel

Preheat the oven to 325°. Butter a 9 1/2-inch springform pan and line the bottom with a piece of parchment paper. Butter the parchment. Dust the pan with flour and set aside.

Sift the cake flour and salt onto a piece of parchment and set aside.

In the bowl of the stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter until light and fluffy. Add the sugar and zests and continue to beat until fluffy and white, about 5 minutes on medium-high speed.

Turning the speed down to low, add the vanilla and almond meal. Increase the speed to medium-high and beat until the mixture is again fluffy—another 2 to 3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, beating briefly again on medium-high speed after each addition until the batter returns to fluffiness and scraping down the sides before each next addition.

Fold in the sifted dry ingredients. Turn into the prepared pan and bake for 50 to 60 minutes. The cake is done when it is a deep golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean.

When the cake is almost done baking, in a small pan bring the citrus juices (you should have about 120ml...don't use any more than this) and another 80 grams of sugar to a boil.  Remove from the heat.

The moment the cake comes out of the oven, run a thin palette knife around the edge and release the sides.  Immediately brush the cake all over with the syrup, continuing until all the syrup is absorbed.  Leave the cake to cool completely. The cake may be served as is, or glazed with a chocolate icing.

To make the icing, melt the butter, chocolate and honey together in the microwave or over a pan of barely simmering water, stirring until smooth.  Stir in the brandy.  Pour the icing over the cooled cake, allowing it to dribble naturally down the sides...it may not cover the cake completely.  

Allow the icing to set.  Garnish with diced candied peel, if you like. 

Serve in thin wedges.  (Slice the cake with a thin sharp knife that has been run under hot water and wiped clean...the hot knife will then slice cleanly through the set chocolate glaze.) 

Serves 12.

Note: If you like, you may toast the almond meal.  To toast nut flour, spread in an even layer on a baking sheet and bake in a 350° oven until golden and fragrant—about five minutes. Cool before using. Watch carefully—it will darken and burn quickly.

(Recipe adapted from Jerusalem by Yotam Ottolenghi & Sami Tamimi)

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