Chai & Rum Banana Bread . . .

It's been quite a while since I've whipped up a batch of banana bread and shared it here, so today's treat is long overdue. This quick-bread has just a little bit of bite, thanks to a few of the typical chai tea spices--cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, and allspice (no pepper or cloves here, but feel free to add in a pinch or two if that's your thing)--along with a modest splash of dark rum. Why the rum? Well . . . let's just say that bananas and rum are really good pals and leave it at that. 

Simple to throw together, this bakes up in about an hour, and smells fantastic doing so. Makes a  velvety-textured breakfast bread or snack. In fact, Nathan, my sixteen-year old, informed me a few minutes ago that this stuff's great slathered with peanut butter (who knew?). So, save those brown bananas! Yes, they are good for something after all. 

About this recipe . . . 

Adapted from a recipe in the May 2012 issue of Cooking Light magazine, you can certainly glaze this bread if that's the way you're leaning. Picture a thin rum-spiked icing, drizzling down the sides of this golden loaf. Yum, right? Of course. But, honestly, the brown sugar in the batter, not to mention the over-ripe bananas themselves, make this just sweet enough without pushing it into dessert territory. Sometimes, that's all the sweetness a girl craves, and such was the occasion. 

I made a few minor alterations to the original formula, including reducing the amount of sugar by about 25 percent, and using all brown sugar versus a combo of white and brown. I also added in a tablespoon of dark rum, just to jazz things up, fiddled with the spice amounts a bit, increased the salt by a mere smidgen, and used vanilla-bean paste instead of vanilla extract. And, as always, I reworded the recipe to reflect exactly what I did.

Chai & Rum Banana Bread

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour a standard size (9" x 5") loaf pan. 

1 and 1/2 cups soft, very ripe banana (about 3 medium-sized bananas), mashed

1/3 cup plain fat-free yogurt (I used Greek style, Chobani brand.)

5 tablespoons of unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled

2 large eggs, at room temperature

3/4 cup brown sugar, firmly packed (I used light brown sugar.)

2 and 1/4 cups all-purpose flour (I use unbleached.)

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

3/4 teaspoon salt (I used coarse kosher salt.)

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon ground allspice

1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom

1 teaspoon vanilla extract or vanilla-bean paste (I used paste.)

1 tablespoon good-quality dark rum

In a medium mixing bowl, lightly whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt, and spices. Set aside.

In the large bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment on medium-low speed (or you can easily do this recipe all by hand, if you prefer), mix the banana, yogurt, melted butter, eggs, brown sugar, vanilla, and rum until very well combined, for a minute or two. 

Add the dry ingredients all at once to those in the mixer bowl and mix on the lowest speed just until combined, definitely less than one minute (over-mixing will make the bread tough). The batter will look a little lumpy. 

Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan, smooth the top if needed, and bake for 50 minutes; check the loaf by inserting a toothpick into the center. It should come out mostly clean. If it doesn't, bake for another five to ten minutes and check again. The top should be dark golden brown when it's ready. If it looks like its browning too fast, lightly cover the top with a sheet of foil.

Let the finished loaf cool in its pan, on a rack, for about five minutes before removing it from the pan. Let it finish cooling on a rack. Store well covered. 

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Triple Citrus Panettone . . . Fragrant Bread with a Tender Crumb

A few short weeks ago, I was sitting in a dim and cozy restaurant gabbing with my pastry-school pal, Michelle. She'd just handed me about six luscious pounds of thin couverture-chocolate disks that she'd acquired wholesale through one of her mysterious culinary connections. Two big bags of the disks were parked on the table when the waitress came over to greet us. She glanced curiously at the bulging sacks and said, "What's this?"

I think she may have feared we brought our own bag-lunch because, for an instant, she got that wary-waitress gleam in her eye. You know the gleam I mean? Anyway, Michelle, who is smart as a whip and takes no guff from anyone, quipped, "I'm a drug dealer." Then after a pregnant pause she added, "It's chocolate."

The waitress immediately chuckled, smiling in understanding. Chocolate. Of course. We were speaking the universal language.

One of the nicest benefits of attending culinary school has been the opportunity to meet kindred spirits, Michelle being one of them. It was from her that I got the notion to make panettone this Christmas season. (Michelle, you constantly generate good ideas for baking and pastry shenanigans. I love that about you!) 

And, I had another incentive to make panettone this holiday season as well. I received a complementary case of chopped candied fruit a couple of weeks ago from the Paradise Fruit Company of Plant City, Florida. I'm pretty sure I yelped in surprise when I unsealed that cardboard carton only to find all those containers of candied orange peel, lemon peel, citron, and crystallized ginger. I don't know what I thought might be in there, but it wasn't candied fruit.

I opened one of each. They all looked and smelled so fresh. I tried citron first. I'd never tasted citron before, candied or otherwise, and the first thing I noticed is that it's beautifully translucent. Light shines right through.

As I nibbled each variety of fruit, my preconceived candied-fruit notions were blown out of the water. All of the lovely, sticky, little cubes were so bright. The orange- and lemon-peels were so chewy, and the candied ginger was just right--not too peppery, and not at all bitter.

I'm now officially a candied fruit believer, and panettone is the perfect vehicle for quality candied citrus. Many, many thanks to Paradise Fruit for offering me this wonderful sampling. I love it!

About this recipe . . .

The recipe I chose is pretty elementary compared to the more elaborate, old-school panettone versions out there. This is an I-don't-have-all-the-time-in-the-world-but-I-really-want-to-make-panettone formula. Adapted from a recipe in the latest issue of the King Arthur Flour catalog, this citrus panettone begins with a starter that you toss together the night before.

What did I change? Well, the main recipe calls for 1/4 cup of potato flour, but I didn't have that so I substituted 1/2 instant potato flakes; this is a common substitution used in bread recipes, and not to be feared. I didn't have the special flavoring called for (Fiori di Sicilia), so I made my own tiny mixture of vanilla, lemon, orange, and almond extracts. I didn't have one of those traditional paper panettone pans in the correct size (though I drove around metro Detroit looking for them, to no avail!), so I used two high-sided metal cake pans (6" x 3") and they worked out just fine. And, of course, I rewrote the instructions to reflect exactly what I did.

This panettone is slightly sweet with a gloriously tender crumb of the palest yellow. Yum.

Triple Citrus Panettone
(For a printable version of this recipe click here!)

Yield: Two smaller loaves (mine were 4" tall and 6" wide); or one larger loaf

Ingredients for the starter:
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1/16 teaspoon instant yeast
1/2 cup (4 fluid ounces) cool water

Ingredients for the dough:
2 cups (8.5 ounces) unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup instant mashed-potato flakes (I used Hungry Jack brand, natural flavor; alternately, you can use 1/4 of potato flour.)
1/4 cup granulated sugar

1 and 1/4 teaspoons salt (I used fine sea salt.)
2 teaspoons instant yeast

1/4 cup (2 fluid ounces) lukewarm water
2 large eggs, room temperature
6 tablespoons (3 ounces) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
A couple drops each of orange extract, lemon extract, and almond extract (enough to equal 1/4    teaspoon total)
1 cup mixture of candied orange peel, lemon peel, and citron, all chopped into very small cubes (I used Paradise Fruit brand; it's already cut to the perfect size.)

Make the starter the night before you make the bread dough:
In a medium-size bowl, combine the flour, yeast, and water. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Leave at room temperature, undisturbed, until the next morning. The starter will get slightly bubbly.

Make the bread dough:
Measure all of the dry ingredients for the dough into a large bowl; whisk them together lightly.

Add in the wet ingredients (except for the candied fruit; that goes in last) and stir until well combined combine.

Mix in the candied fruit until well distributed.

Mix by hand for a couple of minutes (I easily did this by hand with a dough-whisk; you can use a mixer with the paddle attachment, on low speed, if you prefer) then dump the dough out onto a floured surface and gently knead it for another minute or two. It should be soft and sticky.

Put the dough into a large bowl that's been sprayed with vegetable spray or lightly oiled with vegetable oil.

Cover the bowl with a sprayed/oiled piece of plastic wrap, and top that with a lightweight dish towel. Let the dough rise in a warmer-than-room-temperature spot for up to 90 minutes, until it's almost doubled (don't expect to see dramatic rise).

Turn the risen dough out onto a very lightly floured work surface. Gently deflate it. If you're making two smaller loaves, divide the dough now with a bench knife or sharp chef's knife. Shape the dough pieces into smooth balls and pinch closed any bottom seams.

Place the dough balls into pans that have been well greased with shortening (I used two 3"x 6" metal cake pans), or into paper panettone pans. Cover the pans with sprayed/oiled plastic wrap and top that with the lightweight dish towel.

Put them in a warm spot and let them rise for up to 2 hours, until almost doubled.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Remove the plastic wrap carefully so as not to deflate the dough and place the pans in the middle of the hot oven (I placed my pans atop a baking sheet to help ensure the bottom of the loaves wouldn't burn).

Bake for 15 minutes, then turn the oven down to 350 degrees. Continue baking for 15 to 20 more minutes, or until the loaves are deep golden all over. If you're baking one large loaf, you may need to bake for 35 minutes longer.

Remove the finished loaves from their pans immediately and cool them completely on a rack before slicing.

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Strawberry Breakfast Bread . . . Wake Up and Smell the Berries!

 

You know strawberry season is coming to a rapid close in Michigan when you head to your favorite "u-pick" farm and the berry patch is almost deserted. One morning this week, my friend Cathy and I went  to Verellen Orchards, a nice spot about a half-hour's drive from Berkley, the small city where we both live.

It was a sunny, breezy day. As we stepped inside the open-air farm stand to check in, the sweet, humid scent of  strawberries saturated the air.

Empty berry baskets in hand, we made our way into the rows of low-growing plants. Aside from one lone woman a short ways away, intently working to fill her basket, we had the patch pretty much to ourselves. The few viable strawberries still in the field were well concealed beneath that distinctive bushy foliage.  I picked less than half of one flat, all in all, and most of the fruit I took was very small, blood red, and incredibly juicy. Many of my strawberries were almost past their prime.

Once I got them home and had a chance to give them all a good close look, I realized I'd have to weed out quite a few and discard them. The next morning, feeling that familiar yen to bake and realizing there was no time to waste in making use of my limited haul, I briskly sorted, cleaned, and trimmed the remaining fruit, then spent a few minutes paging through cookbooks looking for a quick recipe to make good use of what I'd salvaged before it all turned into a fragrant bowl of rose-colored mush.

I soon found one that fit the bill. In adapting it from a formula for strawberry walnut bread, in The King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion, I made a number of changes. Chief among them, I left out all of the walnuts. Walnuts and strawberries don't always fraternize successfully, as far as I'm concerned. Flung together in a salad, they have a reasonable shot at getting along, but in baked goods I'm often doubtful about their compatibility.

Also, in terms of adaptations, I used about two-thirds mashed strawberries, along with one-third mashed ripe banana, instead of using strawberries alone. (That languishing banana was starting to resemble a  Dalmatian with no get-up and go. I had to put it to work somehow.) You could, though, use all mashed berries and no banana if you like. Bananas are not mandatory.

Oh, and you'll notice the recipe calls for a tiny bit of lemon oil; this, too, is not mandatory, so don't panic. I realize not everyone has this stuff laying around. If you like, add in a little lemon zest, lemon extract, or lemon juice instead. Or, nix that citrus aspect entirely.

I thought my 13-year old son, Nathan, wouldn't detect the pathetically small amount of lemon oil that I used, but I was wrong. As usual. He has no use for baked goods that contain anything citrusy, and he identified the barely perceptible presence of lemon after about two bites of this bread. He remarked to me, with mild adolescent disdain, "Mom, I can always tell when you put lemon in baked stuff. And I can always tell right away whenever you poison your baked goods with zucchini, too."  Yeah, okay dude. I get it. But no one said anything about zucchini so just simmer down.

Moving on . . . in addition to the alterations above, I adjusted the amount of salt upward (and I used kosher salt), added in a wee bit of baking powder to give the loaf some extra oomph, and last but not least I made the strategic decision to add in two generous tablespoons of whole ground flax-seed meal. You ever use this stuff? I'm kind of a newbie with it, but so far I like it.

 
Used judiciously, even a little flax-seed meal adds a rich golden color, ups the nutritional benefits (flax is  a mega-supplier of Omega 3, antioxidants, etc.), and lends an interesting dimension to the overall flavor of certain baked goods that white flour simply can't provide. If, though, you couldn't care less about using the ground flax-seed meal (I understand), just leave it out and add in a couple extra tablespoons of white or whole wheat flour. The resulting loaf will just be less golden brown throughout, but I'm sure it'll still be darn tasty.


When all was said and done, I was more than satisfied with this bread, and completely content with the alterations I made. It's a quick bread that's moist but not wet, mildly sweet yet not at all bland, and substantive without being heavy. I topped it off, right before it went into the oven, with a sprinkling of sanding sugar--always a nice touch on this kind of item. This baby can be put together in a flash, and the one loaf that I made finished baking in about 40 minutes.

Strawberry Breakfast Bread


(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour, or spray with baking spray, a 9" x 5" loaf pan.

1 and 1/2 cups All-Purpose flour (I used unbleached)
2 Tbsp. whole ground flax-seed meal
1 cup sugar
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. baking powder
Scant 1/2 tsp. salt (I used kosher)
A pinch of nutmeg (I used whole nutmeg)
1/4 tsp. lemon oil
2 eggs, large
3/4 cup mashed ripe strawberries
1/2 mashed ripe banana
1/2 cup vegetable oil (I used canola
1 to 2 Tbsp. of sanding sugar (or granulated sugar)

Whisk together the flour, flax-seed meal, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg in a large bowl.

In a medium bowl, mix together the eggs, lemon oil, mashed strawberries and banana, and oil.

Add the liquid ingredients to the dry ingredients, and fold with a spatula only until all the batter is just moistened.

 

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and sprinkle the top with several pinches of sanding sugar, or granulated sugar. Bake the loaf for about 40 minutes, until golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out mostly clean. Check the bread about 20 minutes into the baking time. If the bread appears to be browning too quickly, cover it lightly with foil.

Let the baked loaf cool in its pan, on a rack, for 15 minutes. Remove it from the pan and let it finish cooling on the rack,

 

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When All Else Fails, Bake Your Favorite Banana Bread . . .

My baking objective this past Saturday was to make a simple, tasty, and relatively wholesome cranberry coffee-cake. I found what looked to be a promising recipe on the King Arthur website (a site which, as you may know, I just love). I usually have great luck with any recipes I find there, but I'm afraid the coffee-cake gods were not smiling on me last Saturday.

I don't know if it was me (did I screw something up?) or the recipe itself, but what I imagined and anticipated didn't materialize in the oven. In fact, on a scale of 1 to 10, I'd give that recipe maybe a 4 . . . or perhaps a 5 if I were feeling disturbingly generous. It's called "Yogurt Cranberry Coffee-Cake," and it sounded good, in any event. The recipe contains plain yogurt, whole-cranberry sauce, and all the other typical sorts of ingredients one would expect. Nothing unusual. I had no reason to expect it would bomb, but bomb it did.

Besides being unattractive, the finished product somehow managed to completely overwhelm any cranberry flavor. A slice of this coffee-cake was just a hunk of undifferentiated sweetness with no character whatsoever. All in all, a disappointment. There weren't even any redeeming factors in the texture, nor in the color for that matter. See how it looks in the picture below . . . it's not a pretty cake, is it? No, not pretty.

Is there a chink in King Arthur's armor? Is it even possible? I don't know. I doubt it. I can't bear the thought. But in the photo on their site, the cake looks wonderful . . . light colored, finely textured . . . what gives? Was it me who botched it, or was it them? I guess we'll never know. And, heck, I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that anyway. Some days it just seems better not to know. (Sticking my ostrich-like head in the sand now . . . please excuse me.)

Moving on . . .

In situations like this, sometimes the only thing you can do to restore your shaken confidence is to bake something that's never let you down, a recipe as reliable and predictable as Old Faithful itself. One such recipe, for me, is from that venerable red and white Betty Crocker Picture Cookbook, published about a zillion years ago. You know the one? That friendly, three-ring bindered legend was a mainstay in my house as a kid. How it survived the decades, given its heavy use, I haven't a clue.

Here's a very representative quote from the book, typed just as it appears (emphasis is theirs): "Measure as Exactly as a Druggist measures a doctor's prescription! Two minutes spent measuring carefully can save you hours of grief." Isn't that just the cutest (albeit predictably patronizing) admonition to not-screw-up that anyone could concoct? The book is crammed full of that stuff. It's priceless, as are the poignantly archaic food photos. I sincerely love it.

I still make a recipe or two from it now and then, but the one I return to quite regularly is for banana bread. In the book, it's listed on page 81 as a variation on their "key recipe" (there's even a picture of a little key) for "Fruit Loaf." I sometimes tweak it slightly here and there, but not enough to corrupt the sanctity of the original formula. Anyway, here it is for you below, with mini-chocolate chips thrown in for extra oomph, along with a pinch of cinnamon and a teaspoon of vanilla extract tossed in for good measure. I don't typically add any nuts, but you can certainly do that if you like. I've reworded the very simple directions, so as not to put off 21st century bakers who've yet had no exposure to ancient tomes like this one.

It's a nice, moist, flavorful bread and my three resident men-folk (well, two of them are still boy-folk, technically) like it also.

Banana Bread, with Mini-Chocolate Chips (or not)

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9" x 5" x 3" loaf pan.

2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup soft shortening (ie., Crisco)
2 eggs, large
3 Tbsp. sour milk or buttermilk
1 cup mashed banana (the recipe can handle more than one cup, so don't worry if you've got a bit of extra mashed banana . . . just throw it in)
2 cups All Purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup mini-chocolate chips (and/or chopped nuts, etc.)

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder and soda, and salt.

In a large bowl, mix together thoroughly (by hand--you don't need to use a mixer), the sugar, shortening, and eggs. Stir into that the mashed banana and the sour milk/buttermilk.

Add the dry ingredients into the wet mixture and stir just to combine. Pour in the chocolate chips and stir just to combine. Don't over-mix the batter.

Pour the batter into your prepared pan, and sprinkle the top with sanding sugar or granulated sugar if you like. Bake for about 45 minutes or even up to an hour (seems to me it depends upon the amount and texture of your bananas . . . the riper and softer they are, and the more you put in, the longer the bread takes to bake), until golden brown and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out relatively clean. If the bread is browning in the oven too quickly, be sure to cover it loosely with foil at any point.

Remove from the oven and place on a rack. Remove the bread from the pan after a few minutes and let it cool completely on a rack. Slices best when it's cold, but it is good served warm or cold, and tastes even better the second day.


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If you like this recipe, you might also like:

Whole Wheat Peach Bread
Coconut Bread, and Coconut-Lime Bread with Sweet Lime Glaze
Sour Cream Zucchini Bread
Pear Bread with Dried Cherries & Ginger