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.