209. Golden Cake with Chocolate-Sour Cream Frosting (p. 725)

My son's first birthday was on December 30th (Wow, that was fast!), and we celebrated with a party on New Year's Day. I was determined to have a homemade cake for my son's very first birthday ... no store-bought cake would do. But, we had invited about sixty relatives and friends, so I was in a bit of a quandary about how I was going to handle cake for a crowd.

The Book came to my rescue. As I flipped through the cakes chapter, I noticed that the Cook's Note at the end of this recipe says that instead of a layer cake, you can use the same batter to make cupcakes. A-ha! That's it ... I decided to make one cake and enough cupcakes to go with it so that there would be plenty for everyone.

Because I knew that things would be pretty hectic leading up to the party, I decided to make the cake and cupcakes ahead of time so that I'd only need to make the frosting on party day. So, a week before the party, I sifted together some cake flour, a ton of baking powder, some baking soda, and salt. Then I creamed some softened butter and granulated sugar in my KitchenAid. I added some eggs and vanilla extract. (Speaking of vanilla extract, because I haven't posted in about six weeks, I haven't had the chance to mention that I got a 32-ounce bottle of Madagascar vanilla extract for Christmas...thirty-two ounces! That's a whole quart!) Then I added the half of the flour mixture followed by a container of sour cream ... yeah, I know, I wasn't expecting that either ... and then the rest of the flour mixture. I divided the batter into two nine-inch round cake pans that I had buttered, floured and lined with wax paper. I baked the cake layers for about forty minutes. I repeated the whole process to make the cupcakes. I scooped the batter into a muffin tin (using an ice-cream scoop ... thanks for the tip, Ina Garten!), cooking the cupcakes for about 25 minutes per batch. (One recipe makes about three dozen cupcakes.) Once the cake layers and cupcakes were cooled, I put them in the freezer. I wrapped the cake layers in plastic wrap and then foil, and I put the cupcakes in zip-top bags. The day before the party, I transferred the cakes and cupcakes from the freezer to the refrigerator to thaw slowly.

The morning of the party, I made the frosting. First, I melted some milk chocolate and semisweet chocolate together in a metal bowl over simmering water. I took the chocolate off the heat and whisked in some more sour cream. Again, I would have never expected that.

While the frosting cooled to room temperature, I unwrapped the cake layers and, very carefully, using my biggest serrated knife, cut the layers in half to make four layers. I frosted the cake and put it on a platter. The Book suggests decorating the cake with Brown Sugar Buttercream. I had made this frosting before, and it is delicious. Also, I knew that the dark chocolate frosting and the light brown buttercream would be the perfect color combination to decorate the cake with the monkey design that we'd chosen as the theme for my son's party. But for some reason, the buttercream was a total failure. It turned into a gloppy curdled mess. Plan B was to decorate with some giant pastel-colored sprinkles that I found in my mother-in-law's kitchen cupboard. I think that it looked pretty good just the same. I made another batch of frosting and slathered it on the cupcakes.

This cake was really very good. It was light and sweet and moist. I think that the sour cream has a lot to do with the cake's moist tenderness. The frosting was excellent, too. It was fudgey, creamy and tangy and not too sweet. I know that The Book calls the All-Occasion Yellow Cake "the cornerstone of every cake baker's repertoire," but, as you'll recall, I thought that it was awful. This cake, on the other hand, could easily be my go-to classic birthday cake.

My son's birthday party was a lot of fun, except for the fact that my poor little guy was as sick as a dog that day. When I got him out of bed that morning, he was burning up. When we found out that he had a temperature of 102.6, we called the on-call pediatrician for help. He calmed our fears a bit by telling us to give our boy some Tylenol and let him take it easy. We were all set to call the party off, but the doctor said that we should go ahead anyway. While my son wasn't his happy-go-lucky, fun-loving self, (as you can tell from the less-than-enthusiastic expression on his face), I think that he still had a pretty good time. At least I know that he enjoyed the cake...the frosting he smeared all over his face was evidence of that.

Date Cooked: December 27, 2009 and January 1, 2010
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A

Gourmet Today: Elvis Presley's Favorite Pound Cake

Just as every good meal should end with dessert, I decided to wrap up my preview of Gourmet Today with something sweet. And as I flipped through the Cakes chapter, this recipe practically jumped off the page at me. Elvis Presley's Favorite Pound Cake? How could I not make it?

The provenance of this recipe is a little unclear. Gourmet Today's headnote for the recipe doesn't offer any clues about where it comes from, and my research on the internets was inconclusive. So, I don't know if this recipe was something that The King's mom cooked up for him when he was just a prince, or whether it was something that he ate at a favorite restaurant. Wherever the recipe comes from, one thing is for sure: it's good. And by good, I mean really, really good. Like "Sara-Lee-is-drowning-her-sorrows-in-Entenmann's" good.

That this cake is so rich, moist and tender is no surprise considering what's in it: two sticks of butter, seven eggs, and a cup of heavy cream. And, the secret to this cake's amazing texture is sifting and beating ... a lot of it. The recipe says to "sift together sifted [cake] flour and salt. Sift again." This instruction has a bit of a "drop and give me twenty, soldier!" tone, but, after tasting the finished result, I'm not going to argue with sifting the flour three times. Nor am I going to complain about having to beat the batter for an additional five minutes just before it goes in the pan.

Next week, we'll be back to our regularly-scheduled programming. I've got a huge backlog of recipes from The Book to blog about, so stay tuned. I'm obviously focusing my efforts on The Project, but I'll keep cooking recipes from Gourmet Today, and every now and then, I might share one that I think is particularly good.

Date Cooked: September 20, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A

188. Fresh Apricot Upside-Down Cake (p. 718)

I can't believe how far behind I've fallen in posting about the recipes I've cooked. I cooked this recipe more than six weeks ago! I took a few recipes out of order when I went on vacation last month, and now I've got a pretty sizable backlog of recipes to work through. Well, stick with me, and I promise that you're in for some tasty treats.

I made this cake to bring with us when we visited our friends Travis and Jodi in their new place. Upside-down cakes are the best. They are sweet, moist, and they look great. Of course, pineapple is the traditional upside-down cake topping, but it's not the only one. There are three different kinds of upside-down cake in The Book. This one uses fresh apricots, which are plentiful and tasty in late summer.

To make this cake, I started by melting a stick of butter in an oven-proof skillet. Once the foam subsided, I sprinkled some brown sugar over the melted butter and let it cook for a few minutes without stirring. Then I arranged some apricot halves (cut sides down) on the bottom of the skillet. I took it off the heat and set it aside while I made the cake batter, which is a pretty straightforward, traditional cake batter. I creamed together some softened butter and sugar, and then I added some vanilla and almond extracts and some eggs. I finished the batter off by adding some buttermilk and some flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt, a little at a time, alternating between the dry ingredients and the buttermilk.

I carefully spooned the batter over the apricots and smoothed the top with a rubber spatula and baked it. I let the cake cool for a few minutes before I placed a serving plate over the skillet and very carefully inverted the pan and lifted it off the cake. The Book says that some of the fruit may stick to the pan and need to be put back in place on the top of the cake. No such problems here, the cake released perfectly, and the jewel-like apricots stayed firmly planted in the top of the cake where they belonged.

This cake was a real winner as far as I'm concerned. It is stunningly beautiful with its bright orange fruits and its glossy, caramel-y glaze. And the flavor is wonderful. The topping is sweet and buttery, and the interplay of all of the other flavors is just great: the tart apricots, the tang of the buttermilk and the hints of vanilla and almond come together in perfect harmony.


Date Cooked: July 18, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A

163. Lemon Pound Cake (p. 703)

According to Merriam-Webster Online, "nonstick" means:

1: allowing easy removal of cooked food particles (a nonstick coating in a frying pan) 2: having a nonstick surface (a nonstick frying pan).

My nonstick bundt pan, however, gives the word a whole new meaning. If you've been following The Project, you know that I've had trouble with my nonstick bundt pan before. This time was no different. But even so, this recipe* makes one fine cake.

Just about every recipe I've seen for pound cake is accompnied by a quaint story about how, back in the days of yore, pound cake was made with a pound of flour, a pound of butter, a pound of eggs and a pound of sugar. But, then the recipe will proceed to give you a list of ingredients that doesn't resemble the traditional recipe at all. What gives? Besides the fact that you're left with a four pound cake, it must be a pretty rotten cake if all of the modern recipe writers have seen fit to tweak it.

The Book is no different in this respect. Instead of a pound, a pound, a pound, a pound, this recipe calls for a couple of cups of cake flour and sugar, a half pound of butter, a half-dozen eggs. There's also a little bit of salt, baking powder and milk. And because this is a lemon pound cake, there's a healthy dose of lemon zest and juice.

The Book says to spoon the batter into a kugelhopf pan. Well, I don't have a kugelhopf pan. So, I used my nonstick bundt pan. They're both German. Close enough, right? Maybe, but my nonstick bundt pan is out to get me. I even treated it like a non-nonstick pan this time. I buttered and floured the pan before putting the batter in. It still stuck. Oh well. But once I put the glaze on, it wasn't as ugly. The glaze is really easy, it's just some confectioner's sugar and a little bit of lemon juice whisked together.

Despite it's cosmetic problems, this was a really good cake. It was dense and moist. Substantial and sweet with a real zing of lemon flavor. Paired with some sliced strawberries, this is a bright and sunny summer dessert.

Date Cooked: June 6, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A-

* This recipe isn't on epicurous.com.

156. Rhubarb Roulade (p. 720)

I was a little nervous about making this recipe. I've never made a jelly roll before, and I was sure that it was going to be a disaster. But just look at that picture! I don't mean to brag, but I think it came out pretty darn good.

The other thing that surprised me about this recipe (the first thing being that I could actually pull it off) was that I learned that the thing that I've been calling a cookie sheet all these years is actually a jelly roll pan. Who knew?

The Book says to make the cake first and to make the filling while the cake cooks. But, because I was so nervous about the cake, I decided to make the filling first and get that out of the way.

Rhubarb is in season now, so I knew I'd be able to find some. I looked first at my usual source for local produce, but they had just run out of rhubarb. The mega-mart had it, though. The filling is very simple. It's just some finely chopped rhubarb and sugar cooked down into a sweet/tart puree. Once that was ready, I put it in the refrigerator to cool while I made the cake.

First, I prepared the pan but buttering it, lining it with wax paper, and buttering it again and dusting it with flour. Next I beat together some egg yolks, sugar and vanilla. I cleaned the beaters and beat some egg whites and sugar until they held stiff peaks (or at least a close approximation of stiff peaks). Then in alternating batches, I folded some flour and the egg whites into the yolk mixture until it was all incorporated.

I spread the batter out onto the jelly roll pan. At first it didn't look like it was going to be enough batter to cover the pan, but with a little bit of patience and some gentle spreading with a rubber spatula, it worked out. I cooked the cake until it was "pale and dry to the touch."

Now the scary part. I took the cake out of the oven, covered with a kitchen towel (to keep in some of the humidity?) and let it cool for just a few minutes on a rack. Next I spread the filling on the cake (I took the towel off first ... duh). Then, very carefully, and with my wife's assistance, I began rolling the cake. As I rolled, I peeled the wax paper off the bottom of the cake and used it to help me roll the cake as tightly as I could without breaking it. I gently lifted the rolled cake off the pan an put it on a platter and let it cool completely.

The Book says that you can make the filling a day ahead of time. I actually made the whole cake a day ahead of time. I wrapped it in plastic wrap and kept it in the fridge over night, sprinkled it with confectioner's sugar just before serving, and it was great.

This was a delicious cake. Perfect for a spring or summer meal. The cake is light, tender and airy (and relatively low-fat! no butter). But the filling is the real star of this cake. It's bright and sweet with that distinctive rhubarb puckery-ness. And the color! A really nice cake, and not that scary after all.

Date Cooked: May 23, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A-

132. Passover Sponge Cake with Apples (p. 711)

One of the things that I've enjoyed most about The Project is learning more about various cultures as I organize my cooking around the different holidays throughout the calendar. I've made Coquilles St. Jaques on Bastille Day and Crepes on Candlemas. The Book's excellent collection of Jewish dishes are a great example of how cooking can be a cultural education. I've made Honey Cake on Rosh Hashanah and Date Walnut Rugelach for Hanukka. I made this recipe, along with the Ashkenazic Haroseth, for Passover.

One of the most recognizable Passover traditions is the prohibition against consuming, or even possessing, chametz (fermented items leavened breads and cakes and most alcoholic beverages). That means no yeast breads, and depending upon the branch of Judiasm, no chemical leavners like baking soda and baking powder, either. This recipe relies on beaten egg whites to give it lift.

To make this cake, I first sifted together some matzo cake meal and some potato starch and set it aside. Next, I separated six eggs and beat the yolks with some sugar, lemon zest and juice and then I stirred in the cake meal mixture. After that, I cleaned the beaters and beat the egg whites (if you don't clean the beaters before beating the whites, any yolk left on the beaters will prevent the whites from beating properly). I added a little bit of sugar and kept beating until I got "stiff, glossy peaks." Then I folded the fluffy egg whites into the yolk-cake meal mixture.

To assemble the cake, I spread about a third of the batter into a springform pan. Then I put down a layer of thinly-sliced Golden Delicious apples and sprinkeld them with a generous amount of cinnamon and sugar. I added another layer of batter, another layer of apples, sugar and cinnamon, and a final layer of batter. I cooked it for about an hour and cooled and unmolded it.

The cake tasted pretty good. It was sweet and tender, if just a little bit chewey. It looked very nice when sliced with the pretty layers of apple slices and cinnamon. The only clue that this was a "Passover" cake was a very slight hint of that distinct matzo flavor.

I took this cake to work and left it in the kitchen in the morning. It went over pretty well. Just after lunch, there was only a small slice left. I was very disappointed, however, that the office cleaning lady threw away the bottom of my springform pan. Can you believe that!?! In her defense, she might have mistaken it for a disposable pie plate. I'm sure it wasn't malicious. But, the result is that I need a new nine-inch springform pan.

Date Cooked: April 5, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: B

116. Old-Fashioned Gingerbread (p. 703)

When I think of gingerbread, I usually think about little houses and the little men who live in them. This recipe ain't that kind of gingerbread. It's so much better. The cookies and houses are usually dry and flavorless. They're really all about the frosting and gumdrop buttons. This cake is moist, spicy and delicious.

This is a pretty easy recipe that you could throw together in a few minutes before you cook dinner, and you could have a fresh, tasty dessert ready to enjoy in no time. You probably already have everything you need in your cupboards and fridge right now. Go check, I'll wait.

Ok, now that you're back, all you need to do is sift together the dry ingredients. Then in a separate bowl, beat together some butter and brown sugar. Add some eggs and molasses, and then the dry ingredients, bit by bit, and finally some hot water. Pour the batter into a pan and bake. Really, could it be any easier?

This is a perfect casual dessert. It's best served warm out of the oven (a little sweetened whipped cream doesn't hurt) It's great with a cup of coffee the next day at about 10 o'clock in the morning (a little something that I refer to as "second breakfast").

As I said, this cake is moist and delicious. And spicy ... the hefty doses of ginger, cinnamon and cloves give this cake a nice punch, and the molasses give it a nice rich, smoky flavor. It's a classic that I'll make again and again.

Date Cooked: February 21, 2009
Degree of Difficulty: Pretty easy
Rating: A

67. All-Occasion Yellow Cake (with Chocolate Ganache Frosting) (p, 724)

Just to be clear, my wife did offer to make a birthday cake for me. But, in the interest of checking another recipe off for The Project, I insisted on making my own birthday cake.

In retrospect, I should have let my wife make a cake for me, because she would have made this cake from a Hershey's ad -- an excellent cake that I dream about between birthdays. This recipe, on the other hand, made a pretty disappointing birthday cake.

There's nothing unusual about this recipe. Like many other cake recipes, it starts with creaming butter and sugar, and then beating in some eggs and vanilla. Finally, the milk, flour, baking powder and salt are added gradually. I found the finished product to be dry and cotton-y. And I'm not the only one. Teena thought it was dry, too. (Melissa used the batter as a base for a peach cake. The addition of fruit probably helped with the dryness.) The Book says that this recipe takes only ten minutes more than a boxed cake mix and is "spectacularly better," and it promises that this cake will be "the cornerstone of every cake baker's repertoire." Sorry, but I respectfully disagree.

I haven't written this cake recipe off just yet, however. I'll try it again someday when I make the Seven-Minute Frosting. This time, though, I made the Chocolate Ganache Frosting, and it was a disappointment, too. The recipe is very simple. It's just three-quarters of a pound of chopped bittersweet chocolate (I used a big block of fancy chocolate from Whole Foods) and one cup of heavy cream. Bring the cream to a simmer, pour it over the chopped chocolate and whisk it until smooth. The frosting tastes great (how can you go wrong with chocolate and cream?), but it was very thick, which made spreading a challenge. And then it hardened to a solid shell. The cake wasn't as much frosted as it was encased in chocolate.

Next year, I'll let my wife make my birthday cake. But if my birthday cake was a disappointment, my birthday presents were all that I could have hoped and dreamed for. My wife bought me a selection of items from my Kitchen Wishlist, including an OXO digital kitchen scale and the Oxford Companion to Food. The best present, however, is my new Clear Solutions Jumbo Cookbook Holder. This cookbook holder is highly rated by America's Test Kitchen, and it's going to make my life a lot easier as I continue to work on The Project. The Book is so large that it won't fit in my old cookbook holder, and laying the book down on the counter takes up too much space in my too-tiny kitchen. The Clear Solutions Cookbook Holder is adjustable, so that it can accommodate The Book or a single issue of Gourmet with ease. The large, clear page shield gives an unobstructed view of two pages at a time, and it folds down to allow you to turn the page easily. This thing gets the Gourmet All The Way seal of approval!

Date Cooked: October 19, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: D

57. Honey Cake (p. 705)

One of the things that I enjoy most about The Project is learning about the history and culture of the dishes I'm cooking. As the Jewish "Days of Awe" approached, I took a close look at the recipes listed under "Jewish dishes" in The Book's index for something to make in honor of Rosh Hashanah. I decided on this recipe for honey cake, which, with a little help from Wikipedia, I learned is traditionally served on the Jewish new year, to symbolize the hope for a "sweet" new year.







The cake is a dense, sweet cake, richly flavored with cinnamon, ginger, coffee and a little bit of burbon (Jack Daniel's, thank you very much). We liked this cake for dessert, but it was even better for breakfast, as suggested by The Book's blurb, toasted with a schmear.





Date Cooked: September 28, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Easy
Rating: B+

53. Apple Rasin Cake (p. 704)

I made this recipe a couple of weeks ago on the first weekend of fall. I wanted to make something that would officially kick off the autumn season, and this cake seemed like just the thing.

At it's core, this is a simple spice cake with a hefty dose of apples and rasins folded into the batter. Actually, since the cake is cooked in a Bundt pan, it doesn't have a core at all, but you know what I meant.

To get the full "fall in New England" effect, I used Cortland apples grown in my own town at the 130-year-old Mann Orchards. The Book calls for "3 Cortland or Empire apples, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch dice." At first, this doesn't seem like too difficult a request, but about halfway into the second apple, my hand started cramping up, and I just couldn't handle the dicing anymore. So, recipe instructions notwithstanding, my cake contained "1 1/2 Cortland apples cut into 1/4-inch dice" and "1 1/2 Cortland apples coarsely chopped." I know, I know, I'd be kicked out of Le Cordon Bleu or the CIA for corner cutting like that, but, as you'll see in a moment, the lack of uniformity in apple pieces was the least of this cake's problems.


The Book says to butter and flour a 12-cup Bundt pan, knocking out excess flour. Because I have a non-stick Bundt pan, I blithely ignored this instruction, saying to myself that it only applied to those suckers who don't have a non-stick pan. I guess I'm the sucker after all. As the cake cooked, it filled the whole house with its intoxicating apple-cinnamon-nutmeg aroma (maybe the tablespoon of dark rum in the batter also had something to do with the intoxicating quality of the aroma?). Once the cake had cooked for the prescribed time, I took it out of the oven an put it on a rack to cool in the pan for a while.

When it came time to turn the cake out of the pan, things went south pretty quickly. I ran a knife around the edge of the pan to loosen the cake, but when I flipped it over, nothing happend. I tapped the bottom of the pan gently. Still nothing. I tapped a little less gently. Nothing still. So, with some foreboding, I began to shake the pan somewhat vigorously until the bottom half of the cake plopped onto the cooling rack while the top half remained firmly in place in the pan. This whole experience was reminiscent of the unfortunate Blueberry Almond Coffee Cake incident. Thankfully, I wasn't making this for guests, so it didn't matter that it wasn't pretty. And even though it wasn't going to win any beauty contests, it sure was good.

We really liked the flavor and texture of this cake, and we loved having it on hand for snacking througout the week. The blurb in The Book says that it's great to pack in lunchboxes. Hear, hear! I'll probably make it again, but when I do, I'll add some chopped walnuts to the batter because, while apples and raisins are a great duo, walnuts really are the third musketeer in this scenario, aren't they? Also, the blurb on epicurious notes that the recipe comes from Richardson’s Canal House Inn in Pittsford, New York, where it is served with caramel sauce. The Book doesn't mention the caramel sauce, however, and it wasn't until I was eating the cake that it sruck me that caramel would have been a natural and welcome accompaniment.

Date Cooked: September 20, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A-

32. Lemon Semolina Cake with Raspberries and Whipped Cream (p. 708)

I really didn't know what to expect from this recipe, since it's so different from any other cake I've ever made. But, in the end, I was very happy with how it turned out, and I'll probably make it again when I'm looking for an impressive-looking, yet easy-to-make dessert for a spring or summer gathering.

The first thing that's unusual about the cake is its use of semolina flour. Up until I came across this recipe, I had only ever heard of semolina in the pasta context. So, when I went to the grocery store to look for semolina flour, all I was able to find was pasta flour. It said "semolina" on the box, so I figured that it must be the right thing. But I just learned, thanks to Wikipedia, that there are two kinds of semolina: durum semolina (which is made from hard wheat and is used to make pasta and couscous) and soft wheat semolina (which is also known as farina or, more commonly, as Cream of Wheat). So, I'm not sure if I used the right thing, but I don't really care since I was happy with the end result.

Another strange thing about the recipe is the inclusion of ground almonds in the cake. The Book calls for exactly twelve whole blanched almonds, finely ground in the food processor and incorporated into the batter. Why twelve? Would something horrible happen if I used thirteen almonds? Since I'm still in the early stages of The Project, I haven't yet acquired the bravado to flout The Book's directives, and so twelve almonds it was. But I'm still puzzled by their inclusion. The Book's blurb says that the ground almonds give the cake a "pleasant grainy texture." They did. But beyond that, it wasn't clear what else they contributed to the cake. There wasn't any perceptible almond flavor. And anyway, since when is "grainy texture" a positive attribute in a cake? Next time I make this, I'll probably leave them out. (See, that bravado is already starting to develop.)

The last wierd thing, at least for me, was the absence of any chemical leavening agent, like baking powder or soda. Instead, the lift in this cake comes from the beaten egg whites folded into the lemon-juice-and-zest-infused batter just before baking. The fluffy egg whites, along with the absence of any butter or other fat, make for a very light, airy cake. If I knew more about my cake types, I could tell you if it technically qualified as a "sponge cake," but it clearly had that light, springy texture that you'd expect a sponge cake to have.


After the cake comes out of the oven, with a nice golden top I might add, you let it cool in the pan for ten minutes and then invert it after running a paring knife around the edge a couple of times. You let it cool completely, and then slice it horizontally. I've done this a few times before, but it always makes me very nervous. Here's the beautiful cake that you've slaved over, and, just like that, you could wreck it with one little slip of the knife. When you're frosting the cake, you can salvage some errors by covering them over with the frosting. Here, the cake is unfrosted, so there's no hiding. I held my breath and sliced. Miraculously, I was left with two perfect cake halves. (Not bad considering that my inexperience in this regard is exacerbated by the fact that my serrated knife is only eight inches long - the same length as the diameter of the cake. I really should get a bigger serrated knife if I'm going to be doing this kind of thing on a regular basis.)


The bottom cake half is topped with a half cup of plain whipped cream and six ounces of fresh raspberries. (I was really lucky to get some beautiful-looking and fresh-tasting raspberries at my local mega-market). I took this picture because it's just so gosh darn pretty that it's a shame to cover it up with the other cake half, but that's exactly what The Book tells you to do. The next time I make this, I might repeat the whipped cream and raspberries on the top as well as the middle. (More bravado by the minute!) Would that be too much whipped cream? Is there such a thing as too much whipped cream?

The cake is finished off with a dusting of confectioner's sugar. (The raspberry garnish on top was my idea.) As I said at the beginning of this post, I was really happy with how this cake turned out. It was sweet and delicious while still being light and airy. The cake has a great spongy texture (With the "pleasant graininess" from the almonds. Whatever!) and just a hint of lemon flavor. At first I was surprised that the whipped cream isn't sweetend or flavored with anything, but after I took a bite, I realized that I wouldn't want it anyother way. The slight tang of the plain whipped cream was a nice counterpoint to the super-sweet raspberries.

Finally, I was really happy that the cake held up well to refrigeration. I was worried that the whipped cream would deflate and leave a yucky, creamy mess. But, we were able to enjoy the cake days after I made it.

Date Cooked: July 27, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A-

7. Pineapple Upside-Down Cakes (p. 716)

My wife and I went out to dinner on Saturday with our friends, Travis and Jodi, and so we invited them back to our house for dessert.

But what to make? The last time I cooked for Travis and Jodi, I made these Profiteroles from the March 2008 issue of Gourmet. I needed something equally impressive.

Inspiration came in the form of an Edible Arrangement that my in-laws sent us for our anniversary. The too-cute flower-shaped
pineapple slices (see photo below) whispered to me, "Pineapple Upside-Down Cake."

This recipe, which according to The Book, is based on Hali'imaile General Store's cake, "tweaks" the traditional recipe by making the cakes single-serving. It's a nice touch that makes this kitschy dessert a bit more fancy. I love recipes like this that produce something really showy and impressive, but that aren't at all difficult to make. (It makes it much easier to be falsely modest, "No, it was no trouble at all!")

The Book says to cook the cakes in a muffin tin with extra-large (1-cup) cups. I have such a muffin tin, but the cups are tapered, and the bases of the cups were too narrow for the pineapple slices. So, I used my ceramic ramekins instead, and it worked just fine.

The upside-down topping is simply brown sugar, melted butter and a pineapple slice. The cake is a basic buttery pound cake-style recipe. The cherry on top isn't called for in the recipe, but I think that pineapple upside-down cake without a cherry on top isn't really pineapple upside-down cake.

These little cakes were delicious. The topping was sweet and tangy as the caramel and pineapple flavors blended in each bite. The cake is more than just a vehicle for the topping. It was moist and buttery, with just the right amount of sweetness and density.

We had two cakes left over, so we put them in the fridge and had them for dessert the next night. The cake seemed to dry out a bit overnight. It was still good, but much more crumbly than the night before. My recommendation is to eat them all in one sitting. (Don't worry, I won't judge.)

Date Cooked: June 21, 2008
Degree of Difficulty: Medium
Rating: A