Showing posts with label cupcakes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cupcakes. Show all posts
06.06.09

101 in 1001 {II}: 027 invent a bitchin’ cupcake recipe [completed 06.05.09]

the inspiration

it's hard to argue with the dark and stormy (dark rum over ginger beer and ice, sometimes with a bit of lime; our preferred version is gosling's black seal over maine root ginger brew and ice): it's flavorful and spicy without being cloying or fussy. those sounded like decent parameters for dessert invention, too, and the skies in new york were black and miserable yesterday afternoon and evening, so: i made dark and stormy cupcakes.

this recipe sounds time-consuming and a little kitchen-sinky - because it combines two batters, it does feature everything from fresh ground pepper and molasses to lemon rind and crystallized ginger - but i am the laziest cook i know, and i firmly believe that these little dudes are worth the work.

dark and stormy cupcakes
(adapted from david lebovitz, southern living, and slashfood recipes, with advice from a friendly food editor*)

dark (ginger cake) batter

- 2 oz. fresh ginger, peeled and grated
- 1/2 c molasses
- 1/2 c sugar
- 1/2 c vegetable oil
- 1 1/4 c flour
- 1/2 tsp cinnamon
- 1/4 tsp ground cloves
- 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
- 1/2 c water
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 egg

in a large bowl, mix the molasses, sugar, and oil; in another bowl, stir the flour, cinnamon, cloves, and black pepper together. zap the water in the microwave, stir in the baking soda, then add to the molasses bowl. stir in the grated ginger. whisk the flour mixture into the molasses mixture, then add the egg and mix until thoroughly combined (you'll have a dark, bubbling bowl, sort of like the la brea tar pits).

light (rum cake) batter

- 3/4 c butter, softened
- 3/4 c sugar
- 2 eggs, minus one white
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1 tbsp grated lemon rind
- 3/8 c dark rum
- 1 1/2 c flour
- 1 tsp baking powder
- 1/4 tsp baking soda
- pinch of salt
- 1/2 c heavy whipping cream

beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy. add eggs and vanilla, then lemon rind, then rum, beating each time until blended (you'll have wee, curdled-looking chunks; don't worry, it's supposed to look like that). combine dry ingredients in another small bowl, then add to batter, alternating with the cream, beginning and ending with the dry stuff. stir until just blended after each addition.

act II: they meet

ladle dark batter into lined cupcake pans so that each is just over half-full, then top each with a big dollop (say, 2 to 2 1/2 tbsp) of light batter, like so.

dolloped and ready for baking

bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees, until a toothpick or fondue fork** comes out clean. cool cupcakes for about 15 minutes (or about five minutes next to a slightly open window, if the weather is as bad as it was last night), then transfer cupcakes to two large platters and poke the hell out of them with a fondue fork (or a cocktail pick, if you want to be clever), like so.

nude cupcakes

combine 4 tbsp of butter, 3/8 c sugar, and 1/3 c dark rum (gosling's again) in a saucepan over medium heat; when mixture is liquid, stick it over by the window where the cupcakes cooled for about 10 minutes. ladle a large spoonful of the cooled rum sauce over each cupcake.

for frosting, beat 8 ounces (1 package) cold cream cheese with 2 1/2 tbsp. softened butter, 1 c powdered sugar, and 1 tsp. vanilla until combined. add a glug of the gosling's and stir to combine; repeat as necessary until frosting has reached your optimal level of rumminess (i used three).

give each cupcake a dollop of frosting and sprinkle with finely chopped crystallized ginger, thus:

dark and stormy cupcake

ta-da!


*i consulted a food editor as i invented my recipe, internets: that's how much i love you.

**i use a lot of fondue forks when i cook. it's just a thing.

04.03.08

the dirty dozen: food, folks, and folks as food

01 sexy dessert of the month, thanks to a foodie coworker: nigella lawson's chocolate guinness cake (which, in the absence of a springform pan, converted to two dozen cupcakes quite easily: i just knocked the baking time down to 25 minutes and used foil wrappers so that the damp cake didn't stick). i have apparently started seeking opportunities to make weird cupcakes, so i was right pleased when george enabled me by getting a new couch and finishing the entertainment center he's been "building" in "jersey" for the past few months: clearly, New Furniture Food was in order. from what nigella (in that inimitable soft-core way of hers) calls the "magnificent...damp blackness" of the cupcakes to the you-can-almost-pretend-it's-healthy airiness of the cream cheese frosting, i (and the admirers of george's furniture) heart the chocolate guinness cake. it's a lethal new addition to my tiny dessert arsenal, like a...new throwing star for a carb ninja.

02 from popular mechanics, the 10 most prophetic sci-fi movies ever (titled "10 best sci-fi movies ever" elsewhere on the page, which sounds about right for the pop mech boys). sample quote, from #8:
[T]he idea that the government would actually promote euthanasia—a concept that also shows up in Children of Men—isn't as easy to shoot down as human-fortified snacks. In Soylent Green, the suicidal are provided with a clean, comfortable room. As the poison kicks in, a montage of nature footage plays, accompanied by your choice of music.* Never mind the fact that your body is then unceremoniously dumped into a garbage truck and carted off to a heavily-guarded person-milling factory. Considering that the alternative is a world increasingly packed with sweaty Charlton Hestons, this might not be the worst—or least plausible—way to go.

every now and again i miss writing press releases about science.

03 speaking of food and violence, i bought bacon for the first time yesterday. i didn't realize i was a virgin until i was already underground at food emporium, hovering in front of the refrigerated packaged meat wall, trying to figure out what sort of pork product would complete me if i were joe's half of the black bean soup we planned to make for dinner last night. cured? center cut? apple-something-smoked? who asks their vegetarian wife to decide this sort of thing? i settled on "the kind that only costs $3.49 and comes in a small package," which seemed to work. internets, give your vegetarian wife specific instructions in situations like these. or, you know, buy your own bacon.


*raise your hand if this got you thinking of your "farewell cruel world!" music (much better than thinking of sweaty charlton heston). should one go with something lovely and soothing (blur's "you're so great," say), or something that makes the end a relief (john mayer's "your body is a wonderland")?