Cooking with Beer – Guinness Cake

Looks like a pint of Guinness!

I have come to learn this past week that Guinness stout is a pantry staple.  Of course, it is no coincidence that this tidbit of information comes to me in mid-March in Boston, when St. Patrick’s Day parties are springing up everywhere and while pilsners are dyed green, the Guinness still runs black.  A good many courses (even a whole meal) may be improved with a bit of this rich brew – from appetizers to breads to dinners to desserts – not to mention a swig of the stuff pairs wonderfully with all of the above.

Irish CoffeeOn our recent trip to San Francisco, RJ and I learned first hand how much more friendly the people of California are as opposed to the crowds in Boston.  Everywhere we went, people tried to convince us to move out West – whereas in New England you can hardly get a stranger to talk to you even if you’ve already moved there and just want to make a new friend!  So many recent imports to Boston have told me that it is rather impossible to meet people here, since everyone who grew up around town or went to school in the city already knows each other, and no one is particularly welcoming or friendly.  Cliquey, I think they called it.  In San Francisco, Tahoe, and Napa RJ and I found ourselves chatting with people of all ages and originating from around the world, all settled in California and not planning to ever leave.  One such man was sitting next to us as we sipped Irish Coffee at the Buena Vista on Hyde Street.  His name was John Spilane and he was a tipsy Irish guy.  He bought us drinks and chatted with us about all those things you aren’t supposed to speak about in bars – the economy, politics, religion…  One thing he did say was that Guinness was only his third favorite beer.  Beamish and Murphy’s Stout both surpassed Guinness in his authentic Irish estimation.

What I am getting at is March 17th.  On this day, RJ and I had been home for 24 hours, and had our first days of work after a blissful vacation.  Preparing an authentic Irish dinner, even driving the two minutes to the new Irish bar in town, was far from our minds.  Yet at 5 pm, who should call RJ’s cell phone but a now very drunk John Spilane!  In his light, slurring Irish brogue, he wished us both a Happy St. Patty’s day.  I got quite a kick out of that, and instantly felt bad that I hadn’t prepared anything for my half-Irish husband’s native holiday.  RJ was then compelled to drive to the liquor store and at least buy a 4 pack of Guinness (no Beamish to be found!).  He drank one, and the others lay waiting in the fridge, presumably for next year!

As the beer was left untouched for several days, I reclaimed it for the pantry.  I have two great Guinness recipes that I made and will share the dessert first.  This cake is quite delicious and I would recommend it to anyone, Irish or not!  It is a tight crumb, slightly elastic on the inside, but with a moist and tender mouthfeel.  Around the edges and top, probably due to the carbonation in the beer, we had a bit of thin crunchiness – like a light and sweet brulee topping – which I really enjoyed.  RJ and I both felt it actually tasted better on the second day (and third, and fourth), after the cake had cooled a bit more and the flavors of the Guinness and cocoa were able to really come into their own.  Enjoy the cake, then come back for dinner!!

Chocolate Guinness Cake, by Nigella Lawson, found here in the New York Times, December 8, 2004

guinness-cupFor the cake:
Butter for pan
1 cup Guinness stout
10 tablespoons (1 stick plus 2 tablespoons) unsalted butter
3/8 cup unsweetened cocoa
2 cups superfine sugar
3/8 cup sour cream
2 large eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

For [Nigella’s] topping:
1 1/4 cups confectioners’ sugarButter Beer!
8 ounces cream cheese at room temperature
1/2 cup heavy cream.

For Katharine’s alternative topping:

1 1/4 c. confectioners’ sugar
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
1/4 c. light cream cheese
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 vanilla bean’s seeds

For the cake: heat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9-inch springform pan and line with parchment paper. In a large saucepan, combine Guinness and butter. Place over medium-low heat until butter melts, then remove from heat. Add cocoa and superfine sugar, and whisk to blend.

Guinness cake batterIn a small bowl, combine sour cream, eggs and vanilla; mix well. Add to Guinness mixture. Add flour and baking soda, and whisk again until smooth. Pour into buttered pan, and bake until risen and firm, 45 minutes to one hour. Place pan on a wire rack and cool completely in pan.

For the topping: Using a food processor or by hand, mix confectioners’ sugar to break up lumps. Add cream cheese and blend until smooth. Add heavy cream, and mix until smooth and spreadable.

Remove cake from pan and place on a platter or cake stand. Ice top of cake only, so that it resembles a frothy pint of Guinness.

Yield: One 9-inch cake (12 servings).

guinness cake

Thai-Style Stir-Fried Chicken and Basil

Thai Chicken with Basil

For all the flack I give my unadventurous husband, I was not always the intrepid eater that I am today.  My siblings will certainly attest to the years that I spent eating only hamburgers, and one of my best friends and fellow epicures will surely remember a time not long ago when all fish were abhorrent to me.  I credit both my love of cooking and my expanded palate to one person.  I am not sure if she knows this (I will be sure to give her a poke on Facebook to read this post, however) but my friend Robin is the source of all of this.

After receiving my acceptance to college during my senior year of high school, I made the decision to defer my matriculation for a year.  While the “sabbatical year” is very common in Europe for kids that age, it was a recent trend at my school that had a very strong appeal for me.  While New York City and Columbia University certainly was alluring, I wanted to seize the opportunity to try something very new and exciting and ready myself for another four years of academic immersion.  I applied to the Wells College Program for the Arts in Paris, and packed up my film and camera for 6 months in the city of lights.  There, I met Robin who was a vegetarian from Hampshire College in Amherst, MA.  We hit it off immediately, and our bond grew stronger as we realized that her dietary restrictions and my tight budget severely limited our options for meals in Paris.

Her solution, one that seems so obvious now but that at the time was quite a novelty, was to use the dorm kitchen at the Cité Universitaire (where we lived) to cook our own dinners.  This did necessitate a purchase of a mini fridge from the BHV (quite an excursion) in which to horde our creations from the pilfering masses of La Cité, as well as a scouting mission for familiar American ingredients around Paris.  Robin’s French was in its nacent stages, as were my culinary skills, but between the two of us we put together a proper pantry.  My previous experience with cooking was the occasional massive dinner party with my high school friends, where ten or more of us crowded into my mother’s kitchen to clabber together a meal.  With Robin, I was given one-on-one instruction and she introduced me to ingredients that I never would have touched before.  Something about selecting the perfect eggplant from a table at the farmer’s market, hunting down the elusive broccoli, or debating the proper substitution for an American ingredient like sour cream, made my fear of strange vegetables and creative, ad hoc cooking dissipate.  

Over the years since that first stint in Paris, I have come to love vegetables of all kind, have acquired a taste for seafood, and have (obviously) developed a huge passion for cooking.  One victory that I will credit to my friends Julie and Lindsay is my recent acceptance of ethnic foods.  Robin, try as she might, could not convince me to go anywhere near an Indian restaurant.  Lindsay (another vegetarian) and Julie (an omnivore for the most part, unless you offer her boxed mac and cheese) have introduced me to some of my now favorite cuisines – Japanese sushi and Thai food.  Though the following recipe is not typical Thai — it has been adapted for an American audience and for use in homes like my own! — it has some similar flavors.  I really enjoyed this very simple-to-make dish, as did RJ.  Next time I will slice my chicken thinner (as the recipe says to) and use more basil.  They also suggest replacing the basil with mint and cilantro.  I suppose my palate will have to evolve a bit further for that…

Thai-Style Stir-Fried Chicken and Basil, from Fine Cooking (April/May 2009, issue 98)
Serves 2-3

Mise en place2 Tbs. vegetable oil
4 medium shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
2 medium cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1/4 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1 lb. chicken breast cutlets (about 1/4 inch thick), cut crosswise into 1-inch-wide strips
1 Tbs. fish sauce
1 Tbs. fresh lime juice
2 tsp. packed light brown sugar
1 cup lightly packed fresh basil leaves
chicken-with-basilHeat the oil in a well-seasoned wok or a heavy-duty 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering hot. Add the shallots, garlic, and red pepper flakes; cook, stirring frequently, until the shallots start to soften but not brown, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the chicken and cook, stirring, until it’s no longer pink and the shallots are beginning to brown, 2 to 3 minutes.

Add the fish sauce, lime juice, sugar, and 1/4 cup water. Cook, stirring frequently, until the chicken is just cooked through and the liquid reduces to a saucy consistency, 2 to 3 minutes. (If the sauce reduces before the chicken is cooked through, add water, 1 Tbs. at a time.) Remove from the heat, add the basil, and stir to wilt it.

Thai Chicken Basil

Gingerbread Pudding Cake

Gingerbread Pudding Cake

As I look at the title of this post, I keep hearing Tweety Bird say “I thought I saw a puddy’cat!”  Moreover, I am not sure “pudding cake” really sums up how incredibly scrumptious this dessert actually is.  The very unusual baking method creates a cake with two very distinctive features – a beautiful cracked surface which recalls the floor of an ancient sea, long since dried up, and a moist bottom layer that gives way to an undercurrent of thick molasses syrup.

Today we received our most recent onslaught of snow (about 14 inches and counting), proving to me that we are not yet finished with winter and I can continue to – ahem – build up my winter coat with decadent desserts and can keep the deep and spicy flavors coming for at least a couple more weeks.  This cake was a prize find of a couple of winters ago.  I love how it recalls the familiar and nostalgic taste of gingerbread, yet also provides the unique and surprising texture of a molten chocolate cake.

Paired with a nice dollop of whipped cream – the rustic version – or possibly a quenelle of vanilla (maybe even coconut?) ice cream – the elegant dinner party version – this cake is a sure-fire crowd pleaser.

Gingerbread Pudding Cake, from Bon Appetit (not sure of the issue – it was a clipping!)

See the height of the water!
See the height of the water!

1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground ginger
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon clove
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 cup sugar
2 tablespoons beaten eggs
1/2 cup molasses
1/2 cup water
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1 1/2 cups hot water
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Top of the cakePreheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter an 8×8 inch glass baking dish. Whisk flour, ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, cloves and salt in medium bowl.
Using an electric mixer, beat 1/4 cup butter and 1/4 cup sugar in large bowl until blended. Beat in egg. Stir molasses and 1/2 cup water in a 1 cup glass measuring cup.

Add 1/3 of the flour mixture, butter mixture and molasses mixture together beating to blend. Repeat until all seperate mixtures are now one and transfer to prepared dish. Sprinkle brown sugar over the top.

Stir 1 1/2 cups hot water and melted butter in 2 cup glass measuring cup. Carefully pour over top of batter (don’t worry, there will be lots of liquid on the top). Bake until gingerbread is cracked on top, about 45 minutes. Serve warm with whipped cream and top with extra sauce from the bottom of the pan.

Pudding cake

Winter Blood Orange Salad

 

Blood Orange Salad

As I said before, composed salads are really not my strong suit.  I think of salads as a venue for all of my odds-and-ends vegetables – that little strip of red pepper gets a chop, the half of a fennel bulb is sliced thin, and they’re thrown on top of what’s left of my bag of baby spinach.  It is really only in the summer that I take any care with my salads – the time of year when sometimes a leafy bowl of greens is all my stomach can handle.

Yet in the process of “cooking the issue” for Fine Cooking, I was compelled to at least attempt this salad recipe.  I was thrilled to find that I love this dish.  The sweetness of the oranges and the vinaigrette contrasts with the salty parmigiano and the toasty hazelnuts.  This is a perfect salad for a winter get-together — it is bright, colorful, and widely appealing.  I used this salad as a centerpiece for my table, as it seemed prettier to me than any flower arrangement would be!  

Blood Orange and Radicchio Salad with Hazelnuts and Shaved Parmigiano by Joanne Weir for Fine Cooking, Issue 97Blood Orange dressing

(Serves 6)

5 medium blood oranges
1/4 c. extra-virgin olive oil
1 Tbs. white wine vinegar
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 medium (12-oz.) head radicchio, washed, cored, and cut into 1- to 2-inch pieces (about 5 loosely packed cups)
1 medium (6-oz.) head butter lettuce,washed, cored, and cut into 1- to 2-inch pieces (about 4 loosely packed cups)
3/4 c. blanched hazelnuts, toasted and coarsely chopped
1-1/2 oz. chunk Parmigiano-Reggiano or aged goat cheese

Finely grate 1 tsp. of zest and then squeeze 2 Tbs. juice from one of the oranges. In a medium bowl, whisk the zest and juice with the olive oil, vinegar, 1/2 tsp. salt, and a few grinds of black pepper.

Using a sharp knife, trim off the peel and white pith from the remaining 4 oranges and cut crosswise into 1/4-inch slices; remove any seeds.

In a large bowl, toss the radicchio and butter lettuce with the hazelnuts and just enough dressing to lightly coat (about 1/4 cup). Season to taste with salt and pepper. Divide the salad among 6 serving plates and top each with 3 or 4 blood orange slices. With a vegetable peeler, shave a few shards of cheese over the top.

Radicchio Blood Orange Salad