This is How I Get Myself Into Trouble

Winter break is over.  Back to a classroom full of eager young seventh-graders.  Very eager.  Eager for anything but the vast plethora of English language expertise I can impart. 

My free time is limited as most of the time I'm either grading papers or revamping lesson plans to meet the new Common Core State Standards. My goal is to make at least one cake a week and post about it.

So, tomorrow is the day.  I'm going to try another recipe from the New Mexico Extension site I linked to in a previous post.  It caught my eye because instead of using butter, it uses oil.  It's a white cake recipe, a tabula rasa if you will.  A white canvas just begging for me to mess around.

This is how I get myself into trouble.  I just can't leave a perfectly good recipe alone.  Make it as written?  Are you kidding?  No!  I can improve upon it.  And usually that's true.  And if the original was perfectly fine just the way it was, you can bet my tinkering will yield something just as good.

Except when it comes to cakes.  Nope.  When I start mucking around with cake recipes, I don't create something wonderfully tasty.  I create wonderfully shaped flops that might be wonderfully flavored IF I spread enough frosting on them.  I did create one decent experiment, a Swedish cake with coconut to which I added a couple handfuls of chocolate chips.  But how wrong can one go by adding chocolate?  In any event, the husband ate it and liked it.

So, this white cake.  Something in me is just itching to tinker.  I will set the eggs out tonight, so they will be room temperature tomorrow when I get home form church and begin to bake.  Maybe as I sit listening to wisdom from the pulpit, I will repent of this dangerous course I am now contemplating.  Maybe my heart will soften, and I will recommit to keep the commandments--stick to the recipe.

Somehow I doubt it.

Nevertheless, I now post the recipe I will, in all likelihood, sully tomorrow.  Maybe you will try it as is and tell me how it went.

WHITE OIL CAKE

5,000 ft Oven temperature: 375°
2 1/4 cups sifted cake flour
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup cooking oil
1/2 cup minus l Tbsp milk
1/2 cup water
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup egg whites (3-4)
1/4 tsp cream of tartar
l cup sugar

Directions

• Grease and flour or line two 8-inch layer pans with waxed paper.
• Mix and sift flour, baking powder, and salt into mixer bowl .
• Add oil, milk, water, and vanilla.
• Beat 2 minutes on medium speed, scraping frequently.
• In separate mixing bowl, beat egg whites and cream of tartar until stiff but not dry.
• Gradually add sugar to beaten egg whites and beat to a stiff meringue.
• Add meringue to batter and fold in, using about 40 strokes.
• Pour batter into pans.
• Bake at 375° approximately 27 minutes.
• Remove from oven and cool it pans about 12 minutes.
• Remove from pans and finish cooling on rack.

Altitude Adjustments
7,500 ft:
Same as 5,000 ft.
10,000 ft:
Decrease sugar to 1 cup minus 1 Tbsp. Increase egg whites to 1/2 cup plus 2 Tbsp.

Fudge Cake Results

I attempted the Fudge Cake on New Year's Eve.  I had to do something to entertain myself since I was (yes, I know this will sound heartbreaking) home alone.  My adoring husband  was on call and out.  And my darling children?  Well, what self-respecting teen or twenty-something is going to sit home with "mommy" when they could be out with their friends?  Ah, but that is the subject of another post. 

The cake was very easy to bake--even user friendly.  Eggs and milk could be used right out of the refrigerator--no warming required.  That is one thing I'm always forgetting when I set out to bake cakes.  Eggs need to be room temperature for so many recipes, it was nice to find one where my lack of preparation was not an issue.
The recipe calls for 7 minutes of beating.  This surprised me.  All I could think of was that it would be tough if the gluten got really developed.  This did not happen, however.  The consistency was slightly thicker than a boxed mix.

I plopped the batter into 2 eight inch spring form pans I had sprayed with baking spray (Pam with flour added to it).  Then I popped them into the preheated oven.  If you look closely at the first picture, you'll see what I didn't when I opened the oven after about 3 minutes to take the picture--my pans were leaking from the bottom.  The spring must have sprung from the pans.  After about 10 minutes I began to smell burnt sugar.  Dejavu!  Mount Chocula all over again?  I was saved that by virtue of the fact that the pans were only about half filled.  After about twenty minutes the batter was firm enough to seal the leaks.  I didn't lose more than a couple of tablespoons of batter.  Just enough to be annoying.
The pair took about 45 minutes to cook, longer than a boxed mix.  They seemed a bit crispy on top and looked flat when I pulled them out of the oven.  I let them cool about 10 minutes before I removed the pans and put them on a rack to finish cooling.  It was when I flipped them over onto the rack I noticed a slight sloping towards the center.  I can't really say they fell--I've seen much worse.  The crispy top must have hidden an air pocket just under the skin causing the cake to look flat when it wasn't.  However, the dent wasn't enough for me to call this attempt a failure.

Once cooled, I wrapped them in plastic wrap and set them aside for New Year's Day.  (By that time I was feeling a bit melancholy as I was STILL the only one home.)  Because they were wrapped, the crispy outer layer softened, and by the next day the outer layer of cake was soft and very moist.  I frosted the layers with a chocolate genosh which I added powered sugar to to give it more body.  I melted a cup of chocolate chips with just enough half and half to barely cover the chocolate.  Added powdered sugar--maybe 2 cups, and beat.

Here are the results.  Let it be known I am NOT a decorator of cakes.  That would be my sister.  I have seen what she can do and admire her.  But once I helped her make like a bazillion gum paste rose petals to go on my nephew's wedding cake.  That was enough for me.

Now, for what you really wanted to know all along.  How did it taste?  What was the texture like?

The recipe made a nicely textured cake.   It is called fudge cake and that has some bearing on the texture--moist and richly crumbed.  This is not a light cake--it has body, substance. 

The verdict for taste--YUM!  Again, fudge is the operative word.  Rich!  Chocolate!  This is a tall glass of milk cake--at least for me.  Five other people had pieces as well, and while I must, for the sake of honest disclosure say they are family members, they are honest enough to tell me if it tasted yucky.  None did.  The fact that there is only a fourth of it left is testimony that it was not disgusting.

Oh! There is only an eighth left now.  I think I'll call this try a success.

Better get myself that last big piece of cake.

Sidetracked Quest Yields Treasure

Sidetracked, as I am, with this whole elevation and baking issue, I was Googling around this evening and came across this site hosted by New Mexico State Cooperative Extension.  Not only does it have some great explanations of why cakes fall and what you can do about it, it also has recipes.  YES!

These recipes have already been adjusted for 5000 feet elevation.  Those hard working extension agents then went the extra mile and gave adjustments for 7500 and 10,000 feet!  As I scrolled down through the recipes, I found quite a few I want to try.  The first I think, in memory of the erupting Mount Chocula, will be a Fudge Cake.  Here is the recipe:

FUDGE CAKE

5,000 ft Oven temperature: 350°
4 squares unsweetened chocolate (4 ounces)
1/2 cup shortening
2 cups sifted cake flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2 1/4 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups milk (refrigerator temperature)
3 eggs (refrigerator temperature)
2 tsp vanilla
1 cup nuts, chopped and floured (optional)

Directions

• Grease and flour pans or line with waxed paper.
• Melt chocolate and shortening together and cool slightly.
• Mix and sift flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar into mixer bowl. (Reserve 1 Tbsp for flouring nuts, if used.)
• Add milk, eggs, and vanilla.
• Beat 30 seconds on low speed, scraping frequently.
• Add melted and slightly cooled chocolate shortening mixture.
• Beat 7 1/2 minutes on medium high speed of upright mixer or 7 1/2 minutes on high speed of portable mixer, scraping several times.
• Stir in floured nuts, if used; pour batter into pans.
• Bake at 350°

Two squares, 8-inch: approximately 48 minutes.
28 cupcakes (two-thirds full): 30-35 minutes.

• Remove from oven and cool in pan about 12 minutes.
• Remove from pan and finish cooling own rack.

Altitude Adjustments
7,500 ft:
Reduce baking powder to l 1/2 tsp. Increase baking temperature tow 375°,
10,000 ft:
Reduce baking powder to l 1/2 tsp. Reduce sugar to 2 cups. Increase baking temperature to 375°

I'll post pics of the finished product.

It's a Chocolate Volcano!

The smell of burning sugar first alerted me that there was something wrong in the oven.  I open the door carefully and am met with gaseous clouds, billows of smoke, and fumes that burn the eyes. 

You've probably guessed what I did wrong this time.  Yes, I overfilled the pan.

That's one thing boxed cake mixes have going for them.  They give you a myriad of choices on the back of the box.  8 1/2 x 11 pan?  Sure and here's the time.  24 cupcakes, 2 nine inch rounds, or 2 eight inch?  Doesn't matter--go ahead and fill it, and here's how long to cook it.  Got a bunt pan (are you thinking "My Big Fat Greek Wedding")?  You can make that too.  I had been spoiled.  Or I had become gullible.  I thought I could do what I wanted with a scratch cake too.

The answer is no, Rillene.  You can't.

This is how I ended up with Mount Chocula erupting in my oven.  Thanks to overfilling my pan, I had a spitting blowhole spewing chocolate batter out the corner of my pan, and a chocolate continent forming on the oven floor.

Moral of the story:  Never fill a pan more than 2/3 full.   To be on the safe side, keep it to only 1/2.

This story does have a bright ending.  The chocolate land mass, while a bit burned on the bottom, tasted very good.  We picked off the top after I scraped it up, en mass, off the bottom of the oven.  This recipe was a hit with the family, and the oven clean up nicely.

King Arthur to the Rescue

Is it just coincidence that while on my quest for cake perfection King Arthur Flour would be my rescuing knight in shining armor?

Check out this link on High Altitude Baking. Not only does King Arthur supply the seeker with charts explaining amounts to change, "he" also adds what I feel is the Holy Grail in baking knowledge--the WHY for each change. Here are a couple of charts I swiped from the above site:

This chart deals strictly with leavening:

Another good article is found on the All Recipe.Com site.

One tidbit I keep reading on all sites: This is a trial and error process. Oh joy! No magic wand I can wave over the recipe before I try it.

The journey continues...

Elevation is Everything

One of the first things I learned about baking cakes is elevation is everything.

Cakes need to rise; they become light and fluffy. It's what makes them cake and not, oh, let's say, cookies. Cookies range anywhere from the crispy-crunchy to the ooey-gooey. Some are even described as "cake-like" because they are tender and airy. Even pound cake, which isn't called pound cake because it's heavy, is firm but light.

Cakes that don't rise, or that rise then fall, come out of the oven like sad, sorry looking bricks. I’ve seen a lot of these so far.

I began to wonder, would I never be able to bake a decent cake? Am I fated to bake interestingly flavored bricks forever? Would I never be able to pass by the rows of cake mixes without hearing their Siren’s song? “Buy me! You know you want to. You can’t bake without us!”

Cakes: 1,001 Classic Recipe from Around the World (hereafter know as Cakes: 1,001 CRAW) is a disappointment in one major area—it gives no advice or adjustments for baking at high altitudes. In fact, it doesn’t even mention the issue. I live just under the mile mark, and let me tell you—elevation is everything when it comes to baking a cake!

Not to be so easily thrown off my quest, I have embarked on a side journey now—the search for info on the effects of altitude on leavening. This is what I know so far:
1. Leaven creates gas bubble in batter.
2. When the batter firms up around these bubbles, it creates a light airy framework and a tender light cake.
3. When the leaven either doesn’t create gas, or the bubbles pop before the batter firms up, the cake becomes a flat, fallen brick-like mass one could feed unsuspecting children who are only looking for a sugar rush, but not something one would serve, oh, let’s say, one’s in-laws whom one wants to impress.
4. When one lives at the mile high mark where air pressure is lower, bubbles like to pop.

So, now I know what the problem is. I am sidetracked, yet not daunted. My task—find the formula, the bit of magic needed to adjust a recipe for 4900 feet. I hope I don’t discover that moving would be the easier fix.

1,001 Cakes

A few years ago I got a new cookbook. One of those Readers Digest publications entitled Cakes: 1,001 Classic Recipes From Around the World. My goal, in true Julie and Julia fashion, is to bake every cake in the book.

Yes--it's been done already by Julie. But I'm not looking for anyone to make a movie about my quest, and I'm not setting some absurd goal for myself--as if trying to bake 1,001 cakes isn't absurd enough already. Besides, I've never been too good at setting goals with time limits attached. I just want to learn the secrets of making a good cake.