Ruby Cake with Hidden Chocolate and Raspberry Filling

I made this cake for a potluck at work, and at the end of our glutton-fest and my shift I placed the leftovers in my covered portable cake dome and left it on my desk.  I thought it would be safe there from the daytime shift, and my colleagues could eat the rest the next day.  When I returned that next day and looked at my desk, I was amused to find there was less cake than I remembered!  I put it back out on the communal table, and a few minutes later I saw a higher-up (who shall not be named) pass by and cut a piece, then shove it whole into his mouth.  Hmm ... maybe that explains the cake shrinkage.

The Ruby Cake is a buttery bundt with a dense and moist crumb, and a bit of tang from some sour cream.  It gets its name from a hidden filling of raspberry jam and chocolate.  I'm not sure whether it's the nature of this cake, or if I was too careful with keeping the filling away from the walls of the cake pan so it wouldn't burn, but the filling takes up very little of the cake.  Plus it rose up through the batter while baking.  I simply wanted more of the chocolate and raspberry.

Clockwise from top left: the cake batter; piping in circles of batter; digging a trough and adding jam to it; topping the jam with chopped chocolate.

I LOVE this beater attachment.  If you have a stand mixer, get one of these beaters that scrapes the bowl as it mixes.  No need to stop the mixer and scrape the bowl periodically.

Next, more circles of batter are piped on top, then smoothed. In the final step, a chopstick is inserted into the batter in swirling motions to distribute the chocolate and raspberry filling.

I have to say I think you can dispense with the piping bag and circles, and just scoop the batter in.  The extra steps -- scraping the batter into a bag, piping the batter, then washing the bag later -- seemed unnecessary.

Bundts also call to mind this baking pan I saw recently at the Museum of Science's exhibit on Pompeii.  This is what I would have used in Roman times!

For me this cake was good but not amazing, though that could change by doubling up on the chocolate and raspberry next time.  But that's just my opinion; you might also want to ask the person involved in the cake's disappearing act.

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Sweet Treats Thursday
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Themed Baker's Sunday

Bacon Cheddar Chive Scones

I'm resurrecting this oldie but goodie from my archives.  It's cold-weather comfort food, even if the temperatures have been remarkably high for the Boston area in February.  When I last posted this a couple years ago, they were a warming treat after a bout of shoveling in some snowstorm.  This year I haven't shoveled once (yay!), but these scones are just as enjoyable.

A food processor makes quick work of blending butter into the flour.  Crispy bacon and diced cheddar are stirred in, and the chives give the scones a nice bite.

It helps to give the scones a stint in the freezer or fridge while the oven is preheating, since cold ingredients are the key to tall and flaky scones or biscuits.  Brush with cream, bake, put the kettle on to boil, and grab a good book.

Frozen Chocolate-Peanut Butter Pie

Ladies, does this situation sound familiar to you?  You've baked something for an event, a potluck, or a friend or relative, and your fella asks you where that's going or says he would have liked some?  When Joe saw the heart-shaped cookie cutters and ate some of the chocolate cutouts from the Two-tone Linzer Hearts I made for my sister, he was a bit envious.  I had something different in mind for him though.  Since he liked the Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups that I made for Valentine's Day last year so much, this Frozen Chocolate-Peanut Butter Pie sounded like a winner.

People with Celiac will rejoice to hear this pie is gluten-free.  For the base, I used storebought gluten-free cookies that I had intended for a different purpose and recipient but never got around to.  But the Pamela's brand cookies were surprisingly delicious, so I used them.

I also made the recipe into four small pies, and you won't finish even one pie in a single sitting because they're so rich.  Two were made in 5-inch pie plates, and two in mini-springform pans that showcase the beautiful sides and base of the pies.

Joe was impressed with the beautiful pies, plus he went back for seconds.  I think I came out on top because my gift was a heart pendant, plus some of you might recall I'm no fan of mixing chocolate and PB.  And, I just might make those Linzer Hearts again.

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Four and Twenty Blackbirds' pies

Before I set out to visit my family in New York for the Lunar New Year, I asked my sister if we were planning to do anything.  Visits with the parents can turn into couch potato sessions, lots of cooking and baking, and lots of baby watching and chasing.  She suggested some urban indoor park in Manhattan.  No way -- I can go to some real outdoor parks right here!  She then mentioned the former railroad tracks that have become High Line.  Um, no.  Not interested.

Then she mentioned this pie place I had heard of, Four & Twenty Blackbirds.  "Wait, did you say pie?!"

So we set out from Bensonhurst to Park Slope, leaving her Little One with my mother.  The area and neighborhood weren't too impressive.  I could have walked right past the place if I wasn't looking for it, and the bars made it look like some kind of jail.  Yes, I know bars are sometimes necessary in Brooklyn.  But it doesn't say "bakery" to me.

The inside looked all right, a nice, casual space.  Some savories and small sweets were displayed in a glass case, though none tempted me enough.  So, let's move on to the good stuff.

We got three by the slice to share: Bourbon Pear Crumble, Salted Caramel Apple, and Lemon Chess.

Clockwise from top right: Salted Caramel Apple, Lemon Chess, and Bourbon Pear Crumble

Mom and I thought the Bourbon Pear Crumble was all right -- lightly sweet, nice flavors, but nothing that knocked our socks off.  Sis hated it, though to this day I haven't gotten her to describe why.  Mom was crazy about the Lemon Chess, but Sis and I thought it was just okay and tasted just like a lemon bar.  I loved the Salted Caramel Apple, and Mom and Sis thought it was all right.  The Little One smiled repeatedly when given apple pie filling to taste.  Sis pointed out you couldn't taste much salt or caramel, and I had to agree.  I loved it because the apples were sweet and crisp, not overly soft or mealy, and the crust was both crisp and tender. It was a well-executed pie.

That said, I don't think I'd trek out to Park Slope again for these pies.  These two hands can bake and have made many a pie, and nothing was so outstanding as to warrant the trip again.  Sis was more harsh, saying nothing in our selection impressed her.  Mom, being old-fashioned and not very adventurous, couldn't believe we took the train there just for some pie.  If you happen to be in the neighborhood, though, I definitely recommend stopping by and tasting for yourself.

Two-tone Linzer Hearts

Every year the twin sister pesters me to make linzers around Christmas.  I think she now expects them around Valentine's Day, too!  I've done linzers a couple times on this blog before, but when I saw these beautiful Chocolate and Vanilla Linzer Hearts on Butteryum I had to make them.  I can just hear the sister complaining about changing up her favorite recipe, but I think she should count herself lucky that she gets any cookies.  I mean, how many people send you linzers without fail every year?

I used my usual King Arthur Flour recipe with the hazelnut dough, but adapted Butteryum's idea to make half of the dough chocolate.  Guittard cocoa powder gives it an intense, chocolatey hit that mortal cocoa powders might not.  The chocolate cookie is further contrasted with the hazelnut layer by a shower of snowy confectioners sugar.  And the little cutout chocolate hearts are pretty darn cute.  I think the sister will enjoy these anyway.

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Key Lime Cupcakes

I don't think there are enough key lime cupcake recipes out there.  When I got the idea to make some, I didn't find many recipes on the Web and I ended up adapting a lemon cake recipe.  The result was a moist cupcake lightly fragrant with key lime, which was echoed in the frosting.  To boost the key lime factor, you can add more zest.  Lime oil is another possibility, but adding more juice could dilute the batter.  But considering the praise these got, I think their lime factor was just fine.

I brought them in to work on the night of the Florida presidential primary, to keep up the sugar and carb high in the newsroom while we were working.  Aside from oranges, what else says Florida like key lime?  I don't think I'll be continuing the cupcake-for-a-primary theme, since my mind wandered to lobster cupcakes for Maine and Rocky Mountain cupcakes for Colorado.  Let's just not go there.  I often find key lime pie cloyingly sweet, but this cupcake dialed that back.  The frosting especially got rave reviews.

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Nian Gao!

Nian gao always conjures up one memory.  My mom often made one for Chinese New Year (in fact, its literal translation is "year cake") when I was little.  One year I couldn't wait to taste it, and I liked the cake in its molten, not quite set form.  I stuck my finger in the cake while it was still cooling and had a taste.  Not much later Mom yelled, in Mandarin, "Who stuck their finger in the nian gao?!"  See, I was years away from any culinary know-how or common sense, so I didn't know I had left a finger imprint behind as evidence.  At least it gave Mom a good laugh.

New York in the 1980s. I'm one of the runts sitting on the wall. I'm not sure which one.

A couple of years ago, I asked Mom for the recipe.  Like so many of Mom's recipes, there was no written form or measurements or timing.  Which means that if she hasn't made the recipe in a long time, it might not come out right because she doesn't quite remember how it was made.  So after telling me "a little of this, and a little of that" over the phone, I tried making her nian gao and ended up with some awful tough thing.  This year I turned to Epicurious.