Coconut Ginger Scones

Not too long ago, my friend Hannah Rose and I pondered the intersection of snow days and sweets. As it turned out, we had both experienced the former and, in response, spent the day baking. Hannah Rose, tasked to stay home from work because of a substantial snowfall, took the day to make peanut butter cookies. She used a recipe that pairs maple syrup with peanut butter and almond flour—a warming, hunker-down-in-your-knit-socks combination. I, confronted with a similar snowfall (albeit on a weekend, making it a snow day in name, but not practicality) baked scones with tropical notes—ginger and coconut. The two of us had independently decided to snuggle into our respective snow blankets with homemade dessert, which I take as a rather good sign. When winter calls, bake something, whether you're looking for a snowbird's escape into sunny flavors or something that says winter comfort with every bite.

These scones are just faintly sweet, an apt pairing for jam, cheese, or frosting alike. The fresh ginger, finely diced, adds pockets of floral flavor. Coconut oil provides most of the coconut flavor and lends sweetness, while the flakes are kept for the top alone, a nod to what drove me to the kitchen in the first place (for what better way to keep warm then by hovering around the oven, eh?).  Feel free to add flakes to the batter, but I like the pure scone crumb, for the texture of these scones is their true triumph. The buttermilk creates a beautifully flaky scone, reminiscent of a biscuit. Follow these directions, and you'll have mini scones: two-bite delights that are easy to share and easy to eat.

Adapted from Simply Recipe's Ginger Scones Recipe

Coconut Ginger Scones

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/8 tsp. salt
1/2 TBSP grated fresh ginger
2 TBSP butter
3 TBSP coconut oil
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup sweetened, shredded coconut

Directions:
--Mix together flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Stir in the ginger. In a small saucepan or the microwave, melt the butter and oil together. Add to the flour mixture with the buttermilk and stir just until incorporated.
--Preheat oven to 400 degrees F and take out two cookie sheets (line with parchment if your sheets aren't nonstick).
--Flour a cutting board or clean work surface and turn the dough out onto it. Flour your hands and press the dough into a square about 1 inch thick. Use a sharp knife to cut five strips width-wise and three length-wise so that you have fifteen squares. Cut each of these on the diagonal. Place onto the sheets, making sure the scones don't touch. Top each with a sprinkling of coconut flakes.
--Bake 10-12 minutes or until scones are firm to the touch and coconut is lightly toasted.

Pumpkin-Pecan-Bourbon Cake

This year's Thanksgiving marks one of the few where I sat at a real dining table, lines of silverware wedged between birch sprigs and butter dishes. Normally, due to the overflow of relatives (honorary and blood), most of my generation is relegated to the kids table. There, we tuck our legs under ourselves and crowd plates onto a coffee table set up just far enough from the grownups that we hear only snatches of wine-warmed conversation (always our names, never the context in which they arise). Now, as new families spring up and smart new careers solidify, people are sent off and away from the Midwest that knitted our friendships and felt our first steps. So we represent the holiday's missing attendees in toasts and scattered updates offered throughout the evening. And each explanation for someone's absence is relayed in a slightly different manner depending on who tells the story, so that by the night's end, no one is terribly clear about what anyone is doing, but they're well assured that those who are absent have got themselves perfectly situated. They're also represented in recollections of Thanksgivings past, to which we'll add this one, remembering only the good parts and forgetting that we really ought to double the batch of gravy next year.

So we were a small group. But a small group is no reason not to make a tall, tall cake. A tall cake of pumpkin and pecan and most of the spice rack's contents, crowned with a bourbon glaze and more pecans. There will leftover glaze—eat it on everything. Prepare to gather and use a lot of ingredients, including what I believe amounts to an entire bag of brown sugar. But you'll be pleased with the result. As will the rest of the party, whatever their number. 

Adapted from Fine Cooking's Pumpkin-Pecan Cake with Brown Sugar and Bourbon Glaze

Pumpkin-Pecan-Bourbon Cake

Ingredients:

For cake

3 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour (plus a little extra for the pan)

2 tsp. baking powder

2 tsp. ginger

2 tsp. cinnamon

1 1/4 tsp. salt

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg

1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temperature (plus a little extra for the pan)

1/2 cup vegetable oil

2 1/2 cups brown sugar

4 large eggs

3/4 cup buttermilk

3 TBSP bourbon

1 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

1 15-oz can pumpkin puree

1 cup pecan halves, toasted and chopped

For candied pecans

2 TBSP brown sugar

1 TBSP honey

3/4 cup pecans, roughly chopped

For glaze

3/4 cup dark brown sugar

1/2 cup unsalted butter

2 TBSP corn syrup

1 1/2 TBSP bourbon

1/3 cup light whipping cream

1 1/4 cups powdered sugar

1/8 tsp. vanilla extract

Directions:

Make the Cake

--Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter and flour a 10- to 12-cup bundt or tube pan. 

--Mix together dry ingredients. In a large bowl, cream together butter, oil, and sugar. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. In a measuring cup, stir together buttermilk, bourbon, and vanilla extract.

--Add flour and buttermilk mixtures to the butter batter, alternating between dry and wet. Stir in pumpkin puree and pecans with a wooden spoon or spatula. Pour into prepared pan and bake for 45 to 55 minutes, or until a knife stuck into the cake's center comes out clean. 

--Let cake cool in pan for at least 15 minutes. Slide a knife between the cake's edge and the pan and invert onto a plate, removing the pan very slowly and gently.

Make Candied Pecans (this can be done while the cake bakes).

--Cook brown sugar, honey, and 1 TBSP water in a small saucepan over medium heat until the sugar has dissolved. Add pecans and stir to coat. Cook on medium-low heat for 15 minutes or until pecans are shiny and most of the sugar mixture clings to the pecans.

Make the Glaze (again, this can be done while the cake bakes)

--To a medium saucepan, add the brown sugar, butter, corn syrup, bourbon, and salt. Cook over medium heat until butter melts and the sugar dissolves. Pour in the cream and boil for one minute, stirring occasionally. Remove from the heat and whisk in sugar and extract, stirring until mixture is smooth. Let stand three to eight minutes: glaze should be thick, but pourable.

Assemble

--Scatter candied pecans across the top of the cake. Using a skewer, poke holes into the cake's sides. Pour the glaze over the cake, letting it run down the sides and into the tunnels created by the skewer. Keep any extra glaze for spooning onto individual slices. 

Pumpkin Petit Fours

I used to pore over King Arthur catalogs, from the 'Sir Lancelot' flour mixture (what made this flour so heroic I'm not sure—the name alone merited it a penciled star in the catalog) to a selection of whisks, from wee ones  to giant, balloon-shaped mixers. Many of their products have somewhat narrow uses, but I found a strong sense of possibility in paging through the gadgets and ingredients. Pizza-sized spatulas! Monochromatic sugar-dusted cookies! Finally, armed with a generous gift card to the mail-order service (a trip to the Vermont retail store and bakery, alas, is yet to come together), I bought the following: a bundt pan that made six perfect maple leaf-shaped cakes. Only terribly useful for one season out of the four. But such perfectly shaped cakes!

This recipe, sans pan, is infinitely more flexible. You do not need a maple-leaf pan to make this cake successful—far from it. In fact, it's quite the pain to clean (all those leaf tendons), although the result is rather pretty. I've made this cake in a few forms, and it always turns out very tasty. You'll just want to increase the baking time and dip the knife in warm water between slices. When properly baked, the cake's top forms a shiny, near gooey layer. No frosting needed. Just pumpkin, spiked by cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg—all the good stuff you'd expect in a fall dessert. 

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen's Pumpkin Cupcakes
Pumpkin Petit Fours
Ingredients:
1 stick unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup granulated sugar
2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground gloves
1/2 tsp. salt
2 eggs
1/2 cup buttermilk (I didn't have any, so I made sour milk: 1/2 TBSP apple cider vinegar mixed with enough milk to make 1/2 cup of liquid)
1 1/2 cups canned pumpkin

Directions:
--Cream together butter and sugars. In another bowl, mix together dry ingredients. Whisk eggs into butter mixture and then add flour mixture and buttermilk, alternating between the two as you mix. Add pumpkin and stir until fully combined.
--Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line a muffin tin with muffin cups or grease an 8x8-inch or 9x13-inch pan. Pour batter into the pan(s). Bake 12 minutes for muffins, 18 minutes for 9x13-inch pan, and 20 minutes for 8x8-inch pan.

Roasted Rhubarb-Ginger Crisp

The switch from avoiding to loving rhubarb occurred just about a year ago, and to commemorate, I thought I'd explore the origins of my dislike for the stalks. It remains a bit of a mystery to me. There are no stories of undercooked rhubarb trauma. No tales of being force fed rhubarb mush. I don't even recall that it appeared too often in my own kitchen. Here's what I do recall.

When I was little, we frequently attended multi-family potlucks, where a rotating host provided the runner table and a vast backyard for little ones to explore and even littler ones to run after them, always a few steps too slow to be welcomed to the game. One after another, people emerged from their station wagons and minivans, in twos and threes, tree-trunk and spindly arms alike wrapped around earthenware full of broccoli and rice, vegetable terrines, stewed eggplant. The desserts usually arrived in pie dishes (or perhaps these I most often gravitated toward). The seasons largely dictated the offerings: squash and apple in autumn, berries and rhubarb in summer. And in those warm, August gatherings, there would sit a pie whose lattice crust, embroidered in sugar, bound a bright red filling. I'd eye it, and nudge my mother (or another nearby trusted adult). 

"What kind of pie is that?"

And if, "strawberry rhubarb," was the answer, I hastily moved on. Some vague, visceral premonition of stringy, tart mouthfuls turned me away. A second serving of blueberry would suffice.

Now, of course, I realize I very likely missed some incredible pies. Having made and tasted rhubarb in a number of forms (most recently, in risotto and on crostini), I find the flavor impeccable, and declare my past dislike a phantom revulsion. My pleasure in downing this particular creation is a case in point. 

Rhubarb outdoes itself when roasted. After a half hour of soaking up sugar and ginger, the fruit takes a slow bake in a hot oven, breaking down and absorbing the sugar—to the point where the fruit becomes velvety soft without losing its tart essence. This recipe was originally a tart, but I'll be utterly honest here: I didn't feel like making pie crust. It has its place and time, no doubt, but this afternoon I was wanting for something simple and easy—and between the deep flavors of the rhubarb roast and the snappy spiced crunch of the topping, I figured I had enough for a dessert without the hassle.

Roasted Rhubarb-Ginger Crisp (adapted from Fine Cooking's Roasted Rhubarb and Ginger Streusel Tart)

Ingredients:

1-1/2 lb. rhubarb, ends cut off and sliced into 2-inch pieces (I used two bunches of rhubarb)

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1/4 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. ground ginger, divided

1/2 cup rolled oats (not instant)

1/2 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

2 TBSP granulated sugar

1 TBSP light brown sugar

1/4 tsp. salt

4 TBSP unsalted butter, room temperature or melted (use shortening to make vegan)

1 1/2 TBSP finely chopped crystallized ginger

Directions

--Toss rhubarb with sugar, salt, and 1/4 tsp. ginger. Let sit 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Pour rhubarb into a 9x13-inch baking pan, cover with foil, and roast for 10 minutes. Remove the foil, give the rhubarb a stir, and return it to oven for 15 minutes more. A bubbling syrup should form by this time. Take the rhubarb out of the oven and scoop into an 8- or 9-inch pie pan with a slotted spoon. Discard the syrup that's left or reserve to use as an ice cream topping.

--Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees F.

--In a medium bowl, mix together all other ingredients. If using room temperature butter, cut into pea-sized pieces with a pastry cutter, knives, or your fingers.

--Sprinkle topping over the rhubarb Bake 35 minutes, or until the rhubarb is bubbling and topping is golden brown. 

Meyer Lemon Crumb Cake

Get your summer in a cake, right here. With tangy crumbs, citrus-spiked icing, and streusel so buttery it's evocative of pie crust, there's an element to please every dessert eater. Meyer lemons forego the wincing tartness of their regular counterparts, so they're milder, but still inject a refreshing, sour-sweet shot. The cake itself has three parts and one quirk. You've got the batter, streusel, and icing. Then you've got the lemons, which undergo a quick boil and some time to rest before they're layered straight onto the cake. (The original recipe says to leave the skins on, but after test-tasting one and finding it required too vigorous a chew, I opted for removing them.) 

I made the cake to round out a Fourth of July dinner with my relatives. We supped on caprese stacks and shaved asparagus salad before clearing our big plates and replacing them with the little frilly-edged paper ones that signal dessert (always ice cream, along with any accompaniment I contribute) is at hand. It was the sort of dinner that spanned a veritable range of topics, from the FIFA World Cup to neighborhood news, to The New Yorker recommended reads, where you get the sense that everyone left the table having said a little bit of what they wanted to say, and having learned a little bit of something new. They also left the table with plates quite clean, save for the crumbs of a graciously devoured cake. 

Adapted from Martha Stewart's Meyer Lemon Coffee Cake
Meyer Lemon Crumb Cake
Ingredients:
For Struesel:
1 3/4 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 tsp. salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cold.

For Cake:
5 Meyer lemons, cut into thin slices and ends discarded
2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1 1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup granulated sugar
zest from 5 Meyer lemons
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup sour cream (you can substitute yogurt or buttermilk if you like)

For Icing:
1 cup powdered sugar
juice from 5 Meyer lemons

Directions:
--Make streusel. Mix together dry ingredients. Cut butter into small chunks and stir into flour mixture, using a pastry cutter, two knives, or your fingers to mix in the butter. Cover and refrigerate until ready to use.
--Fill a medium saucepan a third of the way with water and bring to a simmer. Cook the lemon slices in simmering water for one minute. Drain the water, re-fill the pan, and repeat. Arrange lemons in a single layer on parchment or waxed lined sheet. When cool enough to touch, remove lemon flesh from the rind.
--Make the batter. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter and flour a 9-inch bundt pan. Mix together flour, powder, soda, and salt. In a medium bowl, cream together butter, sugar, zest, and vanilla. Once well incorporated, add eggs one at a time. Add the flour mixture in three parts, alternating with the sour cream.
--Pour half the batter into the prepared pan, and layer on half the lemons. Spread the rest of the batter in the pan, topping with remaining lemons. Sprinkle with streusel, using your fingers to pinch some of the mixture into big clumps. Bake 50 minutes, or until a knife inserted into the cake's center comes out clean.
--While the cake cools, make the icing. Sift powdered sugar over a bowl filled with the lemon juice and stir; icing should be fairly runny. When the cake has cooled for at least 10 minutes, pour on the icing.

Double Chocolate-Mint Cookies with Chocolate Frosting

If someone told me to name my favorite ice cream flavor, I'd probably say mint chocolate chip. This wouldn't be the true answer—coconut, I believe, leapt to the front of the pack a few years ago. But mint chocolate held the highest status as a child, and this kid attachment to one flavor isn't easily shaken off. Locating the chip-dappled bucket was the first order of business when we arrived at our oft-visited ice cream parlour, where opening the door triggered a bell to announce the arrival of our little feet (and, later, their departure, now patterned by drops of intense green dairy project). I also recall conversations about the absence of green in the Breyer's mint chip we got from the store, as it achieved a convincing peppermint taste despite its lack of food coloring. So here's a cookie for that kid, and for anyone who just enjoys a good treat. A beautifully minty, more-than-enough chocolate, chocolate cookie.

I had to choose a chocolate cookie for the second pick in my cookie bonanza. Generally, the absence of chocolate doesn't put me in a dither. But the flavor is so beloved, I reckoned I ought to toss in a dozen or so. The ratio of chocolate to cookie here is unequivocally weighted toward the former.  The dough is a cocoa powder base, stuffed with chocolate chips and haloed with frosting, itself rich with cocoa.  The mint adds that fresh bite without diluting the pure chocolate experience.

Adapted from the Minimalist Baker's Chewy Double Chocolate Peppermint Cookies
Double Chocolate-Mint Cookies with Chocolate Frosting
Cookie Ingredients:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
2 eggs
1/2 tsp. peppermint extract
2 1/2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
2/3 cup cocoa powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. baking powder
2/3 cup chocolate chips

Frosting Ingredients:
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup cocoa powder
3 cups powdered sugar
1/3 cup milk
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

Directions:
--Cream together butter and sugar. Add eggs and peppermint extract and stir to combine. In another bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa, salt, baking soda, and baking powder. Use a spoon to incorporate dry ingredients into wet. Stir in chocolate chips.
--Put dough into the fridge while you preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
--Scoop dough in 1 TBSP portions onto two cookie sheets, flattening slightly with the palm of your hand. Bake 10-12 minutes, or until cookies have firmed up, but still have some give on the top. Let cool completely before topping with frosting, otherwise it will melt off.
--Make frosting. Melt butter and stir in cocoa, mixing until no granules of the powder remain. Add sugar, milk, and vanilla, stirring to form a thick consistency. Add more sugar if the frosting is too runny. Once cookies have cooled, top each one with a spoonful of frosting.

Pecan Macaroons

Not too long ago, I received the challenge to create a cookie sampler for an end-of-semester celebration, so this is the first in a two-part series covering the chosen types. I wanted some variety, so I did a frosted chocolate cookie and these macaroons. This cookie, the pecan macaroon, is reminiscent of German Chocolate Cake filling. The pecans and coconut are bound together by a gooey honey and vanilla mixture—a little time in the fridge condenses them into sturdy little confections. Pass them around and watch them disappear.

This recipe, I was pleased to discover half way though the cooking process, meets the requirements for gluten-free and vegan baking (and, well, no-bake baking, actually). I've dabbled in vegan baking before, with mixed results, but I'm not one to seek out recipes specifically for their gluten-free properties. So it's a delight to have one on hand. The macaroons are even Passover-friendly. All of which is to say, make them for any occasion you like.

Pecan Macaroons

Ingredients:

2 cups shredded, sweetened coconut
1 cup pecan meal
2/3 cup honey (or agave or maple syrup)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 TBSP vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. salt
extra 1/3 cup shredded coconut for coating

Directions
--Mix together all ingredients. Set out a cookie sheet and clear space for it in the fridge. Use hands to form the dough into balls, using about 2 TBSP dough per macaroon. Roll in extra coconut and place on the cookie sheet. Dough will be very sticky.
--Refrigerate at least 2 hours before serving. Makes 24 medium-sized macaroons.

Hot Cross Buns

In the days of single-digit birthdays, my mother would grow a basket of wheatgrass at Eastertime. The pin straight blades slowly sprouted up toward the wicker handle, and if the grass grew too eagerly, we'd trim it with craft scissors. Day-of, she festooned the basket with ribbon and small ornaments—rabbits, eggs, chicks. I recall the basket as the ringleader of the holiday's fanfare, which we celebrated with new dresses, flower-trimmed straw hats, and eggs in jolly suits. As we aged, the decorative accouterments diminished in favor of a focus on food. It helped that I began helping with the meal prep—in recent years, we got as fancy as Eggs Florentine and mimosas. And if any Hot Cross Buns had survived into the weekend, we'd add them to the menu. The family's quite scattered now, so to honor a semblance of the Easter tradition, it's the food that I recreate. There's no green basket on the table, but there is a plateful of buoyant, faintly spicy hot cross buns.

 As it turns out, hot cross buns on Good Friday isn't quite as ubiquitous as I imagined. Of both my foodie and Easter-celebrating friends, few had stories to share about them—about crooked icing crosses, or uneven smatterings of raisins thrown into as-yet-unrisen dough. Eyes pass by the tightly packaged, squishy-sweet rolls in the supermarket bins without recognition. Of course, this recipe comes to you post-Good Friday, which makes any connection or lack there-of a bit moot. My recommendation, should you find the recipe appealing during the off-season, is to make the rolls and ice the entire tops (you'll end up with extra anyway). No one will be any the less for it.

Adapted from King Arthur Flour's Easy Hot Cross Buns

Hot Cross Buns

Ingredients for dough:

1 1/4 cups milk (I used skim)

1 package active dry yeast

1/4 cup brown sugar

2 large eggs

6 TBSP butter, softened

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

1 3/4 tsp. salt

1 TBSP baking powder

4 1/2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour

1/2 cup raisins

Ingredients for icing:

1 cup powdered sugar

1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

3 TBSP milk, or a little more 

Directions:

--Heat milk until warm but not too hot to touch. Pour over yeast and 1 tsp. of the brown sugar. Let rest until proofed, about 10 minutes. 

--Mix together remaining sugar, butter, eggs, spices, salt, and baking powder. Add yeast mixture and stir to combine. Add flour all at once and mix until a cohesive dough begins to form. Use hands to form into a ball and knead until dough is smooth and elastic. Add raisins and knead to incorporate. Cover and let rise until doubled, about 1 hour.

--Divide dough into 12-14 golf-ball sized pieces. Shape into balls and set in a greased 8x8x8-inch baking pan (it's fine if they touch). Let rise another hour.*

--Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Bake 20-25 minutes or until buns are deep brown. Let cool before decorating, to avoid having the icing spread and lose its cross shape.

--Make icing. Mix together sugar, vanilla, and milk until a smooth, spreadable icing forms. Once buns have cooled, use a knife to draw plus crosses on the buns. Serve warm if possible.

*Note: At this point, dough can be refrigerated up to 2 days. Let come to room temperature before baking.

Morning Scones with Apple and Oats

Several weekend mornings  (and the occasional weekday evening) this past year, I’ve woken up (or returned home) to the sprightly sizzle of pancake batter puffing up on the skillet. As a kid my family frequently made weekend breakfasts, consisting of blintz, hash browns, or blueberry pancakes. If it were blintz, I’d help mix the cottage cheese filling—if pancakes, I’d get to drop the blueberries into the just-overturned cakes. (Hashbrowns I left alone—they included onions, which in my youth I deemed slimy and too bold of flavor.) Sometimes I sat and watched the breakfast construction. Sometimes I clambered onto a stool precisely as one of my parents slid a laden plate and already-dripping syrup spout toward me.  Either way, to have this lazy weekend morning serenade of breakfast resume, now courtesy of my roommate, is rather a treat. And this past weekend, I thought I’d take up the task of putting together the breakfast. In lieu of something that requires immediate consumption, I decided to make morning scones.I’ve had mixed success with scones in the past, but this apple-oat rendition is one of the better ones I’ve come across. There's just enough butter to form a tender crumb, and the oats give some toothiness, while the apple chunks make for bursts of smooth, sweet flavor. I didn’t have buttermilk around, so I created sour milk with soy milk and a dash of vinegar to give the scones just the lift they needed.

Adapted from Martha Stewart's Apple and Oat Scones

Morning Scones with Apple and Oats

Ingredients:

1 2/3 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour

1 1/3 cups rolled oats

¼ cup plus 2 TBSP brown sugar

½ tsp. ground cinnamon

½ tsp. ground nutmeg

2 tsp. baking powder

¾ tsp. baking soda

½ tsp. salt

½ cup (1 stick) cold butter, diced (use margarine if making vegan)

1 ½ cups chopped apple (I used one large gala)

2/3 cup buttermilk or sour milk

Directions:

--Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Mix together flour, oats, brown sugar, spices, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Cut in butter with two knives or a pastry blender until it’s in pea-sized pieces. Add apples and buttermilk and stir with a spoon until incorporated. Use hands to press dough into a disk.

--Flour a cutting board. Flatten dough into a rectangle, about 6 by 8 inches. Use a sharp knife to cut into 12 triangles. Place on two ungreased cookie sheets, making sure the scones don’t touch.

--Bake scones for 18-20 minutes, or until tops are golden brown. 

Cinnamon Purses with Cream Cheese Frosting

These spicy little rolls were consumed by the daring souls who made it into work on a day blown into disorganization by the previous night's snowstorm. Treats have been showing up on Fridays with increasing regularity (to many hurrahs), and this week I made the call to provide some myself, particularly as the forecast promised (and delivered) a headache-inducing commute for most in the office. What better, I reckoned, to warm up the workday than with a pan of pastries, homemade and dolloped with cream cheese frosting.

A sweet yeast bread provides the base of these purses, which means you'll need to plan the recipe into your day. It's not an on-a-whim recipe. But these pastries are simpler than your average roll and slice cinnamon buns. Instead of flouring out a work surface and attempting to flatten the dough into a passably rectangular shape, you take hunks of dough straight from the bowl and shape any-size patties with your hands. Pour a little cinnamon sugar into the middle, pinch the corners together, and you have a bite that is delightful to look at and delightful to eat. It's a sweet, spicy treat, finished with a crown of silky frosting—in appearance, not unlike the snow everyone is tromping through.

Adapted from The Fresh Loaf's Cinnamon Rolls

Cinnamon Purses with Cream Cheese Frosting

Ingredients for dough:

1 ¼ cups evaporated milk

2 tsp. yeast

2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour

¼ cup granulated sugar

1 tsp. salt

2 TBSP butter, melted

Ingredients for filling:

¼ cup brown sugar

1 TBSP ground cinnamon

Ingredients for frosting:

2 oz. cream cheese

4 TBSP unsalted butter, room temperature

1 cup powdered sugar

Directions:

--Make dough. Heat milk in a medium saucepan until warm, but not scalding. Pour over yeast and let sit until yeast has proofed, about 10 minutes. In a large bowl, stir together flour, sugar and salt.

--Add proofed yeast and butter to flour mixture and stir until a cohesive mass begins to form. Knead until dough is pliable and smooth, 10 to 15 minutes. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled, or about 1 hour. Stir together filling ingredients in a small bowl or measuring cup.

-- Shape purses. Take a golf ball-sized piece of dough and stretch into a flat, roughly rectangular shape about ¼ inch thick. Holding the piece in one cupped hand, sprinkle ½ TBSP cinnamon-sugar filling onto the pastry. Pinch four sides of the dough into the middle, creating a four-cornered, purse-like shape. Set onto an unlined 8x8-inch square pan. Repeat with remaining dough; you'll end up with 12-14 purses.

--Let rest 20 minutes. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until tops are lightly browned.

--While purses are baking, prepare frosting. Stir together butter and cream cheese. Sift powdered sugar into the bowl and mix until completely incorporated. Spoon frosting onto the warm pastries. Best served warm, but the purses will keep overnight in an airtight container.

Brown Butter-Pecan-Cornmeal Cake

This cake is a stunner, though certainly not in aesthetics. What it lacks in beauty or height, however, it more than makes up for in flavor. Let me briefly cover its crowning attributes: buttery notes, paired with the crunch of the toasted pecans and the textured cornmeal batter; it's a sweet-salty combo almost reminiscent of salted caramel. It's a soft cake, better served piece by piece than taken to a potluck, but it won't take long to finish with a couple willing tasters, as I had this past weekend. You'll want some too; I needed a few volunteers so I didn't end up standing alone by the kitchen counter, working through the entire pan with a fork. 

The batter does spend three hours (or an overnight stay) in the fridge, so plan accordingly. It also uses four egg whites, leaving you with a handful of unused yolks. I admit the whole process seems involved for the production of so homely a cake. But the taste supersedes a number of mile-high, filled-and-frosted cakes I've had, so don't let your eyes convince you otherwise, and start separating those eggs. 

From Smitten Kitchen's Pecan Butter Cornmeal Cake

Brown Butter-Pecan-Cornmeal Cake
Ingredients:
9 TBSP unsalted butter
1/2 cup pecans
1 cup powdered sugar
2 TBSP granulated sugar
3 TBSP unbleached, all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
7 TBSP yellow cornmeal
1/4 tsp. salt
4 egg whites (save yolks for custard)
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

Directions:
--Toast pecans. Spread in a single layer on an ovenproof pan and bake for 4 minutes at 375 degrees F. Check often to make sure they don't burn; the pecans should break easily when they're properly toasted. Chop once cool enough to touch.

--To brown butter, melt the butter in a small pan until it is dark gold and lightly bubbling, 6-8 minutes. Set aside to cool. In a medium-sized bowl, mix together pecans, sugars, flower, baking powder, cornmeal, and salt. In another bowl, stir together egg whites and vanilla just until combined—no need to whip the egg whites. Add to the flour-sugar mixture along with the cooled butter, and stir to combine. Refrigerate three hours or overnight.

--When ready to bake, preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Pour patter into a 8-inch square or 9-inch round cake pan. Bake until a knife comes out clean, or 20-25 minutes.

Note: The way I prepared this recipe, I served pieces directly from the pan. If you want to turn the cake out of the pan and serve on a platter, Smitten Kitchen suggests the following directions: Use a 9-inch tart or springform pan; and butter the sides and line the bottom with parchment paper before adding batter. Once baked, let cool 10 to 15 minutes before inverting onto a plate.

Chocolate Cake

Sometimes, a good chocolate cake is what's needed. And that's precisely what I've got here. It's a simple recipe that achieves a simple goal—putting chocolate cake in your kitchen. This may very well be a cake you've seen, and hopefully tasted, before, but it bears repeating, re-making, and rejoicing. For it is just that good. And it's a handy recipe to have in your back pocket, or recipe chest, or bookmarked, or whatever method you use to log in-a-pinch recipes.

The cake's simplicity comes from its oil base and substitution of vinegar and baking soda, in place of eggs. It's a one bowl deal, and it also happens to be vegan. The frosting, which is not at all vegan, does add a couple extra steps. It wants for a double boiler, creating more dishes than one might prefer, but you can find your own frosting of choice or even skip it altogether. It's the cake part of this cake that reigns supremely chocolate. 

From Moosewood's Six-Minute Chocolate Cake
Chocolate Layer Cake
Ingredients:
3 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
2/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
2 cups granulated sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
2 cups cold coffee
4 tsp. vanilla extract
4 TBSP cider vinegar

Directions:
--Grease and flour two 9-inch round or 8-inch squash cake pans. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.
--In a large bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa, baking soda, salt and sugar. Add in the oil, coffee and vanilla together and stir to combine. Stir in the vinegar just until combined: a few pale streaks from the vinegar may remain.
--Pour batter into pans, distributing as equally between the two as possible. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool 15 minutes before removing from pans.

Chocolate Glaze
Ingredients:
1/2 lb. semi-sweet chocolate
3/4 cup milk
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

Directions
--Melt chocolate in a double boiler or microwave, taking care not to burn if using the latter. Stir in milk and vanilla until smooth. Let cool slightly.
--To assemble cake, carefully invert one layer onto a serving plate. Pour half the glaze on top, smoothing with a spatula to the edges of the cake. Place the second layer on top and pour on the rest of the glaze, letting it run down the sides. Cool completely before serving.

Apple Tart

The primary delight of pie crust is its delectability. But another important boon is its wide range of uses. It might ensconce something sweet or savory, be shaped square or round, portioned out in individual tarts, or make one giant pie. However, in general these tasty destinations call for a crust dough that yields to the rolling pin without breaking, smearing into the parchment, or clinging to the pin. So for those days when the pie crust is feeling disagreeable, or you're feeling too impatient to coax it into a malleable material, we've got this recipe. A simple, toss-on-the-fruit tart. Don't throw away that cracking, oddly shaped hunk of dough. It's got all the ingredients for a delicious crust, and with this recipe you'll barely have to fuss with it.

I'd put this in the 'rustic dessert' category, where its imperfections are what makes it so appealing. Not unlike the open-faced galette, this tart's design forgives asymmetric sides or a less-than-rectanglular shape. It bakes up into a bubbling, warm dessert. The approximate braid on top just lets the spicy apples peak through, while a garnish of bright raspberries gives a slight zing to the homey flavors and heightens the tart's wild appearance.

Apple Pie Strudel
Ingredients:
for crust-
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup vegetable oil
6 TBSP ice-cold water
for filling-
3 medium apples (I used braeburn, but any you like should do)
1/3 cup granulated sugar
2 tsp. cinnamon
juice from 1/2 lemon
optional: raspberries, for garnish

Directions:
--Make crust. Mix together flour and salt. Add oil and water all at once, mixing with a fork until the dough begins to come together. Use your hands to form the dough into a cohesive ball. Set aside.
--To make filling, thinly slice the apples, keeping the peel on. Add sugar, cinnamon, and lemon and toss to incorporate.
--Preheat oven to 340 degrees F. Between two sheets of parchment, roll out dough into a rectangle, approximately 10x15 inches. Score strips onto each side of the rectangle's longest side, like a fringe. Leave the middle third of the dough intact. Transfer to an ungreased baking sheet, carefully sliding the parchment out from under the dough (tear off the parchment piece by piece, if necessary).
--Layer apples onto the middle strip of the dough, overlapping slices so they all fit. Fold the dough strips over the top of the apples, alternating sides like a loose braid. Bake for 30 minutes, or until apples are bubbling and dough is lightly browned on top. Remove and let cool at least 30 minutes. If desired, garnish with raspberries.

Squash Cake

Photo by squash cake partner in crime Maraia B.

This cake, I reckon, is worthy of diverting from (or adding to) your list of traditional Thanksgiving desserts. Of course, you might be unwilling to make room amongst the apple, pumpkin, and pecan delicacies your family has come to love and expect (and I quite understand: the year without apple crisp was tough to get through). In this case, the cake serves equally well as a pre- or post- Thanksgiving snack. The cake absorbs the squash, using it less for flavor than for developing a light, moist crumb that permits consumption of several slices. And so it offers a nice bite to nibble during the cooking process (sturdy slices are easy to pop into one's mouth between stirs of the gravy's roux), or as a Black Friday morning treat—either to munch on while you wait in line, or as an unexpected option amidst the counter's spread of Thanksgiving leftovers. It really fits into any category you might need a baked good for—the squash adds a deep yellow-orange color, making for a festive, comforting dessert.

Photo by Maraia B.

Photo by Maraia B.

All in all, the recipe is straightforward, but you'll want to have the squash roasted and mashed before beginning the rest of the cake, so I suggest planning for a longer afternoon baking binge, roasting the squash and storing extra portions in the freezer. In a pinch, canned pumpkin should work just fine. On this last note, any type of squash will give you a good cake. I used kabocha the first time and acorn the second (see photo below), and both were delicious.

Squash Cake
Ingredients:

1 cup unsalted butter (2 sticks), room temperature

1 cup granulated sugar

2 1/2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour

2 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. baking soda

1/4 tsp. salt

2 large eggs 

1 6-oz. container greek yogurt
1/4 cup maple syrup

2 tsp. vanilla
1 1/2 cups mashed squash (whatever squash is on hand, or canned pumpkin)

Directions:
--In a large mixing bowl, cream together butter and sugar. Add eggs, one at a time. In another bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, soda, and salt. In a small bowl, mix yogurt, maple syrup, and vanilla together
--Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter and flour a 10-inch bundt pan.
--Add the flour and yogurt mixtures to the creamed butter, alternating between the two and mixing after each addition. Once incorporated, stir in squash. Pour batter into the pan. 
--Bake 40 minutes or until a knife inserted in the cake's center comes out clean. Remove from oven and let cool for 10 minutes. Run a knife between the outside of the cake and the pan and invert onto a plate, carefully removing the pan. Let cool completely before serving.