Classic Vanilla Layer Cake with Mocha Swiss Meringue Buttercream . . . and My Favorite Swimmer

A while ago my older son Charlie asked me if I'd bake the big cake for his swim team's end-of-year banquet and I agreed. The banquet's being held early next week, so I need to get cracking. It's been a blast watching that kid swim in high school and, since he graduates this year, I will miss it. Forgive me if this sounds too cloyingly corny, but I must say it's been a remarkably gratifying and heart-warming thing for me to witness his passion, perseverance, and joy as a member of that team. Charlie's had a great experience and has grown so much. I'm proud of that guy. So proud, in fact, that I spent the entire morning on Thursday whipping up a crate full of his favorite, hefty oatmeal raisin cookies for the swim team to take with them to the state meet this weekend. There he is, below. (Check out that dimple. Go Bears!)

Anyway, now with just a few days to go, I find myself still wondering how the heck I should decorate the banquet cake. Like Hamlet, I'm plagued with indecision. Plagued, I tell you. I don't want the cake to look like I just carried it out of Costco, nor do I want it to look like it's for a bunch of eight-year old girls. Should I make little swimmers out of fondant? A pool out of piping gel? Ugh. This kind of thing always presents me with a quandary.

Recipe selection, on the other hand is usually much less complicated. With the team's cake in mind, I tested out this vanilla cake from Baking at Home with the Culinary Institute of America. A classic butter-based layer cake, it has warm well-rounded flavor and fine texture. It reminded me, in fact, of the sumptuous layer cakes we used to buy occasionally from Sanders stores when I was a child. Sanders was the purveyor of choice, in the Detroit area, for rich baked goods, incomparably smooth ice cream, and velvety chocolates. If you're from around here and you're at least forty years old, you probably know all about the heyday of Sanders. It's sort of still around, in name at least, though sadly only as a pale version of its former self.

But I digress. Pardon me.

About this recipe . . . 

I altered the cake recipe only by upping the vanilla ante a bit, adding in the seeds from half a vanilla bean. For the icing, I used a swiss meringue buttercream that I found in an old copy of  Icing the Cake, by Jill Van Cleave, and I customized it by adding in a dash of Kahlua to turn it into a tasty mocha buttercream. A swiss meringue buttercream isn't nearly as nerve-wracking to make an as Italian meringue buttercream, and I think it's just as good. No hot sugar syrup to pour slowly between the spinning beaters and the side of the mixing bowl, thank heaven. You just whisk the sugar and egg whites over a double boiler for a while, then put the bowl onto the mixer, slowly add in the butter, then the flavorings, and beat-beat-beat until the cows come home. Eventually, it all comes together into something soft, silky, and supernaturally spreadable.

I reworded both recipes, as usual. Can't help myself.

Vanilla Layer Cake with Mocha Swiss Meringue Buttercream

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

For the cake:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter or grease two 8" round pans, or use baking spray. Cut out 8" rounds out of parchment and place one in the bottom of each pan. Butter/grease the parchment.

3 and 1/2 cups cake flour
2 cups granulated sugar
1 Tbsp. baking powder (Yes, one whole tablespoon.)
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup unsalted butter, diced into small chunks, at room temperature
1 cup milk (I used 2 percent.)
4 eggs, large
2 egg whites, from large eggs
1 and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
Seeds scraped from half of one vanilla bean (I used a Madagascar bean.)


Sift together, into the large bowl of your mixer, the first four ingredients. Using the whisk attachment, add in all of the butter and half of the milk. On medium speed, until smooth, mix for just about four minutes. Stop to scrape the bowl and beater as needed.

In a medium size bowl, blend together the eggs, egg whites, remaining milk, vanilla extract, and the vanilla bean seeds. In three additions, add this into the mixer bowl, beating on medium speed for no longer than two minutes for each addition. Be sure to stop and scrape as needed.

Portion the batter evenly into the two pans and bake at 350 for 35 to 40 minutes, until the cakes spring back lightly when touched.

Let the cakes cool almost completely on wire racks, in their pans. Run a thin knife or metal spatula around the sides, then carefully invert them out of the pans. 

Mocha Swiss Meringue Buttercream (Yield: 3 cups)

1 cup unsalted butter, room temperature, cut into 1/2" chunks
2 oz. good quality bittersweet chocolate, cut into very small pieces (I used Scharffenberger.)
3 large egg whites
1 cup superfine sugar
1 Tbsp. Kahlua (coffee flavored liqueur)

In a small bowl, melt the chocolate, then let it cool to almost room temperature.

Put the sugar and egg whites into the large metal bowl of your mixer. Using a hand whisk, blend the sugar and egg whites. Place the bowl over a large saucepan on the stove, containing a couple inches of simmering water. Whisk continually by hand until the mixture feel very warm, but not hot.

Place the bowl on your mixer and, using the mixer's whisk attachment, beat on medium speed until the meringue begins to form; it should look white, shiny, and form medium-soft peaks. At this point, start to add in the butter one piece at a time, continually. The icing will begin to resemble butter. Still beating on medium speed, add in the melted chocolate, and then the Kahlua. Keep beating until the mixture begins to thicken. This could take at least ten minutes, so be patient. (Some recipes for meringue-based buttercreams, in fact, have you mixing for as long as thirty-five minutes! Don't believe me? Check out some of wedding-cake diva Sylvia Weinstock's recipes!)

If the mixture starts to look curdled, don't worry, just keep mixing and it will come back together. If the mixture looks okay but seems too warm, take the bowl off the mixer and refrigerate it for about five minutes then put it back on the mixer; chances are it will thicken up quickly after that. You want it to be soft and silky, and it should be extremely easy to spread.

Use the finished icing immediately to ice your cooled cake, or cover it well and refrigerate it until you need it.

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Valentine Vanilla Cupcakes with Raspberry Whipped Cream . . . Will You Be Mine?

It's not just about hearts and flowers, you know. It's also about love and cupcakes. What would Valentine's day be without them? I shudder to think.

I associate Valentine's Day with cupcakes more than any other holiday. Must be a carryover from all of those Feb. 14th parties in elementary school. Cupcakes were plentiful at those events, along with an endless supply of conversation hearts. Deep vats of Hawaiian Punch stood at the ready to slake our pre-adolescent thirst. I recall how the perkiest Moms, who faithfully materialized to run the show, would ladle the weak red libation into little cups and place them carefully into our hands. The classrooms were always a flurry of red and pink, with cut-out hearts and cupids spinning on strings that had been taped to the ceiling.

And do you remember being required to give a valentine card to every single kid in your class, without any regard to your feelings about those kids--you know, the ones with a dark reputation for hooliganism? They were always the troublemakers who failed to bring in an empty milk-carton to transform into a mail-box.

While the rest of us were busy pasting construction-paper hearts onto our mailboxes, those few children stood morosely behind the teacher as she excavated the supply closet, hoping against hope that she'd find a few extra milk cartons. Valentine's Day, at that tender age, was an equal opportunity holiday.

About these cupcakes . . .

The recipe I used for today's cupcakes comes from the book, Great Cakes, by Carole Walter. This cake batter is somewhere on the spectrum between a sponge cake and a regular yellow butter cake. (You could use this recipe, in the same proportions listed, for a standard two-layer cake.) It has a satisfying crumb and a full vanilla flavor. It's not too eggy, and it's sturdy without being dense.

Though one might typically frost a cupcake like this with a good chocolate buttercream, or a fluffy white icing, I decided to opt for the subdued sweetness you get from flavored whipped cream. The raspberry aspect is provided by about a tablespoon or so of seedless preserves that you mix in after the cream has been whipped to firm peaks.

A bit of sifted powdered sugar helps to stabilize the whipped cream and adds a touch of additional sweetness. The ultra-softness of whipped cream is a nice surprise when it appears on the top of a cupcake, especially a Valentine cupcake.


Vanilla Cupcakes with Raspberry Whipped Cream

Makes 24 regular size cupcakes.

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

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line two 12-cup muffin pans with paper liners. (You may have a little batter leftover, perhaps enough for one large cupcake. I just baked that one extra cupcake in a Pyrex glass custard cup.)

3 cups sifted cake flour
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 cup butter, unsalted (The recipe doesn't specify, but I'd suggest the butter be at cool room temperature, not too soft.)
2 cups superfine sugar
4 eggs, large
1 and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract (I also added in about three drops of almond extract; it doesn't add in any obvious almond taste, but I think it gives the vanilla more dimension.)
1 cup milk (I used whole)

Sift together the salt, flour, and baking powder. Set aside.

Cut the butter into 1" pieces and put them in the large bowl of your mixer; using the paddle attachment, soften them on low speed. Then, increase the speed to medium-high and cream until smooth and light in color, about 1 and 1/2 to 2 minutes.


Still at medium-high speed, add in the sugar, 1 Tbsp. at a time over a period of 8 to 10 minutes to blend it in well, scraping the bowl occasionally. (Not kidding--she really says to do this that slowly!)


Add the eggs in one at a time at one minute intervals, scraping as needed. Blend in the vanilla.


Reduce the mixer speed to medium-low. Add in the dry ingredients alternately with the milk, starting and ending with flour; do four additions of flour and three additions of milk. Mix just until incorporated for each addition. Scrape the bowl, and then mix 10 seconds longer.


Spoon the batter into your muffin cups, filling each one about 2/3 full.


Bake the cupcakes for about 10 to 12 minutes, then check them with a toothpick inserted into the center. If it comes out clean, they're done. They should be just a little golden on top.

Let the cupcakes cool in the pan, set on a rack, for just a few minutes, then take them out of the pan to cool completely on a rack.


For the raspberry whipped cream:

1 and 1/2 cups heavy cream
1 to 2 Tbsp. seedless raspberry jam, or regular raspberry jam that have been well strained
2/3 cup sifted confectioners' sugar

Chill a small or medium-sized metal mixer bowl in your freezer for five minutes or in your fridge for ten minutes. Attach the bowl to your mixer and pour in 1 and 1/2 cups of very cold heavy cream. Beat on low speed for the first 30 seconds or so, then increase the speed to medium and beat until soft peaks just begin to form. Slowly add in about 2/3 of a cup of sifted confectioners' sugar. Beat until the peaks become obviously firm but not over-whipped and stiff.

Turn off the mixer and, using a flexible spatula, gently fold in 1 to 2 Tbsp. of seedless raspberry jam. The jam alone won't make the whipped cream very pink. If you want the whipped cream to be more pink, add in a tiny bit of gel food coloring; gel coloring is moist enough to mix in easily and its color is very potent so you need need a dab. Don't use liquid food coloring if you can help it, because it may add too much moisture to the cream.


Wait until the cupcakes are completely cool to frost them. Once you've frosted them, serve them soon. Store any extra frosted cupcakes in the fridge to prevent the whipped cream from separating.


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Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Icing: It's Carrot Love, in Cake Form!

Just in case you haven't yet decided exactly which crowd-pleasin' dessert you're going to whip up for the big day, here's a really good carrot layer-cake recipe that I can recommend without reservation. It has very nice flavor, a soft texture, and it's perfectly moist. On top of all that, it's a complete cinch to prepare and darn near impossible to wreck in the process. The cake batter itself doesn't even require a mixer (not kidding)! I'm bringing one of these cakes to my mother- and father in-laws' house (that would be Nancy and Joe's) for dinner on Thursday.

The recipe I used is one that I adapted several months ago from Perfect Cakes by Nick Malgieri. (This is one of my favorite cookbooks, as you may already know. I raved about it in a past post about banana layer cake, so I'll try to contain myself here and just keep my mind on the carrots.) Anyway, it turned out great the last time I made it, so I thought this might be a nice change from what I usually bring on Thanksgiving. An interesting cheesecake is what I normally show up with, and those have always gotten good reviews. This year, though, I just hope no one is feeling too resistant to change . . . after all, some diners are wedded to certain desserts on Thanksgiving, as you know. I've just, in fact, been informed by my youngest son, Nathan, that he most decidedly will not be partaking of said carrot cake (the poor misguided youngster).

Speaking of change . . .

How did I alter Malgieri's recipe? Well, I added in some coconut (not too much--don't worry), one extra egg, a little bit of vanilla extract, some freshly grated nutmeg, and a very modest amount of salt. The recipe doesn't call for any salt at all, which I think, frankly, is a mistake--though whether one of judgment or omission is anyone's guess. Malgieri also calls for chopped pecans in the batter but I've chosen to omit them since the frosted sides of the cake will ultimately be covered with those babies (yeah, toasted pecans . . . yum). Additionally, the recipe says to add in one 8 oz. can of crushed pineapple along with all of its juice. Now, that's a lot of juiciness--too much, I think--so I've reduced that amount to 3/4 of a cup of crushed pineapple, but I drain and lightly press quite a bit of the juice out first in order to get that 3/4 cup.

Fully frosted with Malgieri's cream cheese icing, and very simply decorated (if you're feeling in the pastry-bag mood, that is), this cake is not only pretty but potentially impressive. It's even pretty without special decorations on the top. The icing recipe is lusciously good; I haven't changed a hair on its head, figuratively speaking. I have no quarrel with it.

This is one cake, I think, that really illustrates the difference between home-baked and store-bought. I mean, really, there is just no comparison. So play your carrots right, bakers, and you'll be on the receiving end of some enthusiastic compliments on Turkey Day!

Carrot Layer Cake

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

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Butter the bottom of three 9" round cake pans. Line the bottoms with parchment, and butter the parchment.

2 cups All Purpose flour (I used bleached)
2 tsp. baking powder
1 and 1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg (I used freshly grated; it's definitely better)
5 large eggs
2 cups granulated sugar
1 and 1/2 cups vegetable oil (I used canola)
2 cups peeled and finely grated carrots (I just shredded them in the food processor)
3/4 cup of crushed pineapple packed in its own juice, with most of the juice drained off
1/2 cup shredded sweetened coconut
1 tsp. vanilla

Stir together well the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a medium bow. Set aside.

By hand, whisk the eggs in a large bowl. Add in the sugar, continuing to whisk until the mixture looks light--about 1 minute. Pouring in a steady slow stream with one hand, add in the oil while continuing to whisk with the other.

Stir in the carrots, coconut, vanilla extract, and pineapple until well combined.

Fold in the dry ingredients, being careful not to over-mix.

Pour the batter equally into the three pans. Bake the cakes for about 30 to 40 minutes, checking them so they don't over-brown. When the tops are firm and golden, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, they're done.

Cool them on a rack, in their pans, for ten minutes. Run a knife around the edges of each pan. Invert each cake layer onto a cooling rack and remove it from the pan. If the buttered parchment is already peeling off, gently remove it the rest of the way. If the cake's still quite hot and the paper is adhering to it, wait until the cake is cooler to try peeling it off.

Cream Cheese Icing

12 oz. full-fat cream cheese
12 Tbsp. butter, unsalted, softened
1 Tbsp. vanilla extract
1 cup (or more, just to be on the safe side) coarsely chopped, lightly toasted pecans (To toast them, put them in a 350 oven on a rimmed baking sheet for 10 to 12 minutes; let them cool on the pan.)
6 cups confectioners' sugar, sifted after measuring (I confess I didn't sift! But if you don't feel like sifting, just be sure you use "10x"--aka Domino confectioners' sugar.)

In the large bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment on medium speed, beat the cream cheese, butter, and vanilla until very soft and light--about 5 minutes. Decrease the speed to low and gradually beat in the confectioners' sugar. Once the sugar is mixed in, increase the speed to medium and beat 5 minutes longer.

It will be extremely helpful to put your bottom cake layer on a cardboard cake-round before you begin the frosting process. If you're going to hold the fully frosted cake in your hand to put the nuts around the sides, a firm flat surface under the bottom layer is imperative.

If you'd like to decorate the top of the cake, it's also extremely helpful to set it on a cake decorating turntable or even a large lazy susan. You can use a pastry bag and a couple of basic piping tips to add a simple border, if you like, and you could make a few easy rosettes, evenly spaced, using a star tip. Want to make those classic orange carrots with green carrot-tops? Use a round tip for the carrot, and a leaf tip for the carrot-tops. The choice is yours. Practice piping first on a flat surface for a few minutes before you actually do any piping on the cake though, if you're feeling less than confident. Don't worry about those details, though, everyone's going to love your cake and think it's wonderful.

Enjoy, and have a very happy Thanksgiving!

P.S. You might want to refrigerate this cake since the cream cheese icing can get pretty soft, and that can make the whole thing rather difficult to cut neatly since the cake layers are also softer than a typical carrot cake as well.



Recipe full disclosure! I adapted this recipe from the recipe called "Martha Turner's Carrot Cake," on pages 73 - 75 of Perfect Cakes (2002, Harper Collins) by Nick Malgieri.

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Retro Desserts, Part IV: Just Give the Man What He Wants -- Devil's Food Cake!

We celebrated my husband's birthday last weekend and, as you can plainly see, I made a very tall buttercream-frosted cake for the occasion. I wanted to make it just as he'd requested--a devil's food cake that would satisfy his childhood memories of what a birthday cake is supposed to be. Three layers high, with the classic, simple, American-style buttercream . . . rich, sweet, and completely chocolatey. No extraneous frills allowed. No foil-covered cake board or lacy doily. No fancy frosting decorations all over the place. Not even any lettering, and thus no "Happy Birthday Andy!!" written in icing on the top. I had to kind of twist his birthday-boy arm, in fact, for clearance to put even a few hastily piped dots around the messy bottom edge; they were legitimately needed to cover up the inevitable smudges.

Because of the clear requirement for a certain level of simplicity, I figured I should also forego the fussy niceties that frequently accompany the assembly of a layer cake like this. Niceties like what, you ask? Well, like piping on an icing "dam" around the outer edge of each layer before spreading the rest of the icing on each one; this is a very useful tactic, even if the whole cake is being frosted inside and out with a single type of icing, and I usually utilize it. But not for this cake, no sir. And, I opted out of the nicety of putting a "crumb coat" (a thin, initial icing layer intended primarily to seal in crumbs) on the cake before laying on the final icing layer. I never go without the crumb coat. Never. But this time I forced myself to just not do it.

"It's all one big frosting layer, baby, and you'd better like it!" That's what I was thinking as I plopped on glob after glob of buttercream icing, helter skelter, as if I had a plane to catch. My youngest son, Nathan, helped with the frosting too (perhaps he needed to catch the same plane?). Those are his hands in the photo below, holding that little offset spatula. (He's still a bit reticent at the prospect of appearing on camera. I guess his hands aren't shy, though, luckily.)

Once the cake was safely sealed within its hefty buttercream carapace, I rebelled just a smidgen by putting it on a cake pedestal with a ruffly edge. Looking at the cake from a few feet back, Nathan remarked that it resembled a bizarre top-hat of sorts. True, I responded, but a really good smelling top-hat.

As far as the recipe goes, I was pleased to finally have an opportunity to try out a book I've been reading lately called Sky High: Irresistible Triple-Layer Cakes, by Alisa Huntsman and Peter Wynne. This is the first cookbook I've ever encountered that focuses exclusively on cakes that are three layers. On the surface it may seem like an overly specific concept for a cookbook, and it is unique in the vast field of baking books that I've encountered. But I must say it's convenient, if not downright comforting, to have the exact proportions for a cake of that size already figured out for you. And, it's nice to know that the cake you're constructing was designed from the get-go to be sturdy enough to hold up without problems. Afterall, the last person you want to have to call in the middle of a baking crisis is a structural engineer. (Sadly, unlike our dear friends the plumbers and furnace repair guys, they're not on call to the general public 24 hours a day.)

Because I'd never used this recipe before, I changed nothing at all in terms of the ingredients, nor did I mess with the process for putting it together. Yeah, I know, it's shocking. ( "How the heck did she restrain herself?" you may be wondering . . . "maybe she had to take a tranquilizer first . . . ?") But seriously folks, I'm glad I didn't fiddle with it, since the finished cake's texture and depth of flavor were all I could have hoped for and more. Truly an exceptional devil's food that's highly likely to end up on my permanent list of reliable favorites. And not only that, there must be at least a dozen more recipes in this book that I already know I'd like to try. They all sound so interesting and look so good--lots of luscious photos, too, to back up the author's claims. It's worth shelling out a few bucks for this book, bakers. (And you know I don't make a purchase recommendation lightly.)

The recipe for the chocolate buttercream is, as I noted earlier, very American and traditional. That said, it's not one that I'd describe as stupefyingly sweet and it has no trace of the grittiness that sometimes afflicts this type of frosting. It's a soft, deeply chocolatey, easily spreadable buttercream, and the recipe is rock-solid reliable. It's from an older book that I think I've mentioned before, quaintly titled The Magical Art of Cake Decorating. I've made this icing several times in the past, and never had the slightest problem with it.

Alrighty then . . . now that I've talked your ear off . . .

Devil's Food Cake
(from the book Sky High, by Alicia Huntsman & Peter Wynne; I've reworded the instructions only very slightly, with no significant changes from the original)

For a printable version of this recipe, click here!

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Butter the bottoms and sides of three 8"round cake pans. Line the bottoms of each pan with a parchment paper or wax paper circle, then butter the paper.

1 cup of unsweetened cocoa powder (Do not use Dutch processed cocoa. Apparently, it's the action of the regular cocoa powder with the baking soda that gives the cake its trademark reddish-brown tint!)
1 and 1/4 cups hot water
3 cups light brown sugar, packed
2 and 2/3 cups cake flour
1 and 1/2 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. salt
1 cup plus 2 Tbsp. unsalted butter, at room temperature
3 eggs (I used large)
1 and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
3/4 cup cold water

Place the cocoa powder in a medium bowl. Pour in the hot water and whisk until smooth. Set aside to let the mixture cool to room temperature.

In the large bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment, combine the brown sugar, flour, baking soda, and salt on low speed. Add in the butter and the dissolved cocoa, beating briefly to blend. Raise speed to medium and beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes.

In a medium bowl, whisk the eggs, cold water, and vanilla until blended. Add this liquid to the batter in three additions, scraping down the sides of the bowl well and mixing only to incorporate between additions. Divide the batter equally among the three prepared cake pans.

Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out almost clean. Cool the cakes in their pans, on racks, for 15 minutes. Invert the cakes from the pans onto the racks, and carefully remove the paper circles. Let the cakes finish cooling completely before frosting or storing.

Classic Chocolate Buttercream Frosting

(from the book The Magical Art of Cake Decorating, by Carole Collier)

Readers, please note: You will probably want to double this recipe, in order to have enough to generously frost a three-layer cake. The proportions listed here, though, are adequate for a two-layer cake. And if you have extra leftover icing, you can always refrigerate or freeze it. It keeps very well in the freezer, for months, in my experience.

Prepare classic vanilla buttercream first, before adding in chocolate components, as follows:

3/4 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/4 cup white vegetable shortening
1/2 cup milk (I used 2 percent)
1/4 tsp. salt
1 and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 pounds confectioner's sugar, sifted (If you use Domino brand "10x" and you don't plan to use the frosting in a piping bag, you can probably easily get away with no sifting! Yay! Seems like every baker I know hates sifting powdered sugar.)

Place the butter, shortening, milk, salt, and vanilla, along with one pound of the sugar, in a large mixer bowl. Beat at low speed until combined, then gradually add in the other pound of sugar. Stop the mixer and scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl. Continue beating, now on high speed, for 8 to 10 minutes, until the frosting is very light and fluffy.

To make it into chocolate buttercream:

For each pound of confectioner's sugar you used in preparing the plain buttercream, allow 2/3 cup of sifted, unsweetened cocoa (I used a mixture of natural cocoa and Dutch process for depth of color and richness of flavor, but either works fine; be sure to sift whatever cocoa you use), 3 Tbsp. softened unsalted butter, and 1/8 tsp. salt. Add these ingredients right into the plain buttercream and beat until thoroughly distributed. To achieve the consistency you prefer, you can mix in milk, just one teaspoon at a time.

* * * * * *
Enjoy!

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What We Talk About When We Talk About Banana Layer Cake . . .

In my house, about once a month, the age-old problem rears its head. You know the one. First, it's the deepening golden color, then the slight softening, followed by the brown speckles, and finally the pungent fragrance that will not be ignored. Oh sure, you get plenty of warning but, ultimately, your hand is forced. Bananas. Overripe bananas. We've faced this before, we'll face it again, but there's always the question . . . what should I make out of those brown bananas before they become fodder for the trash can or compost heap? Personally, I've had enough of quick breads and muffins for the moment. I can't remember, though, the last time I made a real banana cake. I've made a fabulous banana pound-cake in the past (and I should really do a post about that recipe someday--it's a winner), but I'd like to bake something a little more interesting than another fairly typical pound cake.

Such were my musings yesterday as I paged through my new, bright red, long-awaited copy of Nick Malgieri's most recent book, The Modern Baker. (Bakers, is there any more unalloyed bliss than spying a corrugated Amazon box on your front porch leaning shyly against the lone Adirondack chair, and just knowing that it contains a fantastic cookbook you've been craving for months? Certainly there is not.) Malgieri is a well known pastry chef, an educator at New York's Institute of Culinary Education, and he writes a mean cookbook. Once in a while he pops up on TV, demonstrating this or that technique. He always looks kind, friendly, and quite a bit like your favorite uncle.

He must have a soft spot for home bakers because a lot of what he writes is geared toward simplifying--or maybe I should say streamlining--things for those of us who bake in the real world. That is, those of us who bake without huge, uncluttered, stainless steel tables on which to spread out our work, without benefit of towering portable shelves filled top to bottom with premium spices of every description, without industrial lighting that would make a neurosurgeon put on his Ray-Bans, and without access to a walk-in cold-pantry the size of a two-car garage stocked top to bottom with fresh you-name-it. He manages to write about food in this uncomplicated way without completely emasculating his recipes. I don't know how he does it . . . he's from Newark, NJ . . . maybe that has something to do with it? Pretension doesn't appear to be in his vocabulary. What more could we ask? Anyway, I like him. (Did you hear me, Chef Malgieri? I LIKE YOU!)

Before I clam up about him I just have to mention another book he wrote, Perfect Cakes. Why? Because it is a perfect book. Get it from the library, folks, or take the plunge and buy it. Its recipes are a bit more involved than that of some of his other books, but the gorgeous stuff you could produce using Perfect Cakes alone would easily fill several high-end pastry carts. My two favorite items from this book thus far--I've tried about eight of the recipes and there are many more I still want to try--are the Dark-and-White Chocolate Cheese Cake (unbelievably good; I've made it a couple of times for Thanksgiving) and the carrot cake with cream cheese frosting (I alter a few components of the recipe slightly, but as a base it's the best-tasting carrot cake I've ever had; I am going to do a post about it one day).

Someday, when I go completely around the bend, I'm gonna do a "Julie Powell" and systematically bake every single thing in that book over the course of a year . . . holy moly what a concept . . . I'm entering a trance-like state at the very thought of it . . . staring off into space right now . . .


Enough already! Getting back to the banana cake.

I used the recipe for Banana Coconut Rum Layer Cake from The Modern Baker, but I had no rum on hand (more's the pity) so left that ingredient out. It's a nice cake that, in terms of taste if not texture, reminds me completely of my mom's banana chiffon cake (the recipe for which seems to have vanished into the void, unfortunately). I wasn't feeling coconutty yesterday, so I decided not to use Malgieri's recommended coconut-coated whipped cream to ice the cake. What I did use to ice the cake was a hybrid I concocted out of a very reliable and fluffy buttercream recipe. Not insanely sweet, this buttercream's special fluffiness sets it apart from most customary bakery-style buttercreams. I wanted to see how this icing would taste if a little high-quality cinnamon and cocoa powder were added in with the sugar, and if a couple ounces of softened cream cheese were whipped in as well. That experiment was a raging success and I spread the luscious result on the banana cake. I made just enough icing while experimenting to fill the middle and coat the top, but that was the perfect amount--not too much of a good thing.

Thus I present my half-dressed banana layer cake, filled and topped with my hybridized version of fluffy light-chocolate and cinnamon buttercream. I've reworded the Malgieri recipe for brevity, but have left out no critical info. (The icing recipe, printed below, is a completely new adaptation I made of one I had used previously in a post that I called "Deep Dark Chocolate Cupcakes with Fluffy Mocha Frosting.")


Nick Malgieri's Banana Layer Cake
(originally from his Banana Rum Coconut Layer Cake recipe, pg. 248 of The Modern Baker)

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

Preheat oven to 350, and place a rack in the middle.

2 and 1/3 cups of All Purpose flour (I used unbleached)
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed (I only had light brown and used that; it was fine)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
3 large eggs
1 cup mashed banana (mashed by hand)
2/3 cup milk (I used whole)
1 tbsp. dark rum (I didn't have this on hand but the cake was still great; if you don't love the flavor of rum I wouldn't hesitate to leave it out altogether!)

Butter the bottom and sides of two 9" cake pans. Line the bottom with a parchment or wax paper disk, and then butter the disk.

Combine well the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a bowl; set aside.

Combine the butter, sugars, and vanilla in the bowl of a mixer using the paddle attachment. Beat on medium speed until light in color and texture, about 3 to 4 minutes. Beat the eggs into that, one at a time, beating well after each addition.

In a separate bowl, mix together the banana, milk, and rum (if you're using it), until blended.

On low speed, in the mixer bowl, add 1/3 of the flour mixture. Stopping as needed to scrape down the beaters and bowl, add in the banana mixture alternately, beginning and ending with the flour. Then, increase the speed to medium and beat the batter nonstop for 3 minutes. Divide the batter evenly between the two pans and smooth the tops. Bake on the middle rack of your oven until the cakes are, as Chef Malgieri instructs us, "well risen and deep golden, and feel firm when pressed in the center with a fingertip, 25 to 30 minutes."

Cool the cakes on a rack, in their pans, for 5 minutes. Remove from pans and continue cooling right side up on racks; remove the parchment/wax paper.



Jane's Fluffy Light-Chocolate & Cinnamon Buttercream Frosting

This recipe makes at least enough to frost an entire cake--top, middle, and sides--or to frost 24 cupcakes.

1 cup unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup vegetable shortening
4 oz. of cream cheese, softened to room temperature
1 cup and 2 Tbsp. heavy cream
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. vanilla
2 lbs. of confectioners' sugar, sifted (approximately 8 or more cups)
1 tsp. ground cinnamon (my favorite is Penzey's brand Vietnamese Cassia; it's pretty strong)
3 Tbsp. cocoa (Dutch process or regular, whichever you prefer; I use Dutch)

In a bowl, lightly mix the cinnamon and cocoa powder into the sifted confectioner's sugar with a fork or whisk. Set aside.

In a large mixer bowl, beat the butter and shortening on medium speed until light and creamy.
Add the sugar gradually to the shortening, and continue creaming until well blended. Add in the cream cheese, salt, and the vanilla, still mixing at medium speed at this point.

Pour 6 oz. of the heavy cream slowly and gradually into the bowl. Increase the speed to high and beat until the entire mixture is light and fluffy, at least a couple of minutes. Stop every now and then to scrape the bowl and the beaters.

Reserve the remaining 2 oz. of cream to use just in case the frosting seems too thick to you, or too dry. Add it in at your own discretion. Frosting too thin? Add in a bit more confectioners' sugar. Be sure to refrigerate, or freeze, any leftover frosting.

When your cake is cooled . . . frost it, slice it, eat it. Go bananas, if you feel like it.



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Deep Dark Chocolate Cupcakes with Fluffy Mocha Frosting . . .

Chocolate and coffee . . . a well-established flavor match made in heaven, don't you think? I know you love chocolate, but if you also can't live without good coffee (I'm raising my hand; you too?), then you're probably a custom-made candidate for these cupcakes. They're the deepest and the darkest. Well fine, you say, but are they moist? Honey, does Betty Crocker like to bake? Yes, they're very moist! Made with sour cream, they're tender and delish.

They get their darkness from strong black coffee, and their deep chocolate flavor from a sizable portion of Dutch process cocoa (use the best kind you can get your hands on--really). The icing derives its fluffiness from whipping cream, its stability from shortening, its mocha flavor from coffee and a tiny splash of Kahlua (the latter is optional), and--of course--its unspeakable charm from chocolate. This is a ridiculously quick and easy cake/cupcake recipe. I've made it many times, and it's never let me down. I think you'll like it.


Deep Dark Chocolate Cupcakes

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Line two 12-cup muffin tins, or two XL muffin tins with six cups each. (You can also use this batter for a layer cake; two greased and floured 9 x 2" pans, or one 13 x 9" pan; increase the baking time accordingly.)

1 3/4 cups AP flour, unsifted

2 cups granulated sugar

3/4 cup Dutch process cocoa

2 tsp. baking soda

1 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

2 large eggs

1 cup brewed coffee, strong (not hot)

1/2 cup sour cream

1/2 cup sour milk or buttermilk

1/2 cup vegetable oil

1 tsp. vanilla extract

In a large mixer bowl, combine the flour, sugar, cocoa, baking soda and powder, and salt. Into that bowl, pour the eggs, coffee, sour/buttermilk, sour cream, oil, and vanilla extract. Beat on medium speed for about two minutes.

Your batter will be quite thin, so you may want to transfer it to a spouted container in order to more easily pour it into the muffin cups. Fill the cups three-quarters of the way full. Bake for 17 -20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of a few cupcakes comes out clean. Let the cupcakes cool for a couple of minutes in the pan, then finish cooling on a rack. When they're completely cooled they can be frosted.



Fluffy Mocha Frosting

2 cups vegetable shortening

8 cups (approximately 2 lbs.) of confectioners' sugar (If it's Domino's "10x" then you likely don't need to sift it, but if it's just about any other brand, you should really sift it well beforehand. Trust me. I speaking from sad experience.)

1/2 tsp. salt

2 tsp. vanilla

1 cup of heavy whipping cream

2 Tbsp. strong brewed coffee, very warm

4 to 6 Tbsp. grated chocolate, any kind you love (I usually use dark bittersweet, either Callebaut or Ghirardelli's)

1 tsp. instant coffee powder/granules (or espresso powder)

2 tsp. of Kahlua (optional)

In a large mixer bowl, cream the shortening on medium speed until light and fluffy (a few minutes).

While the shortening's mixing, in a very small bowl mix the warm coffee and the grated chocolate. Stir until the chocolate is completely melted and combined. Add the Kahlua, if using, only after the chocolate and coffee are combined. Set this little bowl aside.


Add the sugar gradually to the shortening, in the large mixing bowl, and continue creaming until well blended. Add the salt and the vanilla, still mixing at medium speed at this point. Pour 2 oz. of the heavy cream in, then pour in the chocolate-coffee-Kahlua mixture. Mix on low speed until just blended.

Pour 4 oz. more of the heavy cream into the bowl. Increase the speed to high and beat until the entire mixture is light and fluffy, a couple of minutes or more. Stop every now and then to scrape the bowl and the beaters; the shortening tends to stick to the bottom and the sides of the bowl.

Reserve the remaining 2 oz. of cream to use just in case the frosting seems too thick to you, or too dry. Add it in at your own discretion. Too thin? Add more confectioners' sugar gradually.

Refrigerate any leftover frosting. This recipe makes at least enough to frost a two-layer cake, and more than enough for 24 cucpakes.

(*The cupcake recipe is my own version of an old Hershey's classic, "Black Magic" cake. My changes include the addition of sour cream, halving the sour milk/buttermilk, and requiring Dutch process cocoa. The frosting recipe is an amalgamation of several recipes I've seen and used over time.)



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