The Tahini to my Chocolate Cake

A year ago today, by the time most of you will read this, James and I walked down the aisle in a quaint little church on a crisp afternoon. The sun smiled down on us, brightly colored mums lined the pathways and nearly everyone we love was there. It's uncanny to imagine a year has passed since our wedding day, but I knew we would be coupled well before that day. On our very first date which was a camping trip in the Shenandoah Valley, I know, what was my mother thinking letting me go camping with a man a decade my senior in another state far from the reach of her grasp, it was immediately apparent that he and I would make fitting partners to navigate this world together. It was not something the storybooks convey as love at first sight but rather a divine mandate: he will need someone like you, and you will need someone like him. James is the tahini to my chocolate cake.

I had the pleasure of meeting one of my very favorite food writers, Molly Yeh at the launch party for her book Molly on the Range in the dwelling of all decent food dreams, Food 52. I gave her a chicken I made from nails and baker's twine in the fashion of her beloved farm friends, Macaroni. She was warm and as whimsical as her prose, and it was a significant moment for the fan girl in me. I colored a beautiful layer cake next to her mama, another woman genuine and kind. My mama joined me that night and we nibbled on decadent macaroni and cheese, hummus, and brussels sprouts rosti. We got temporary tattoos- a cheeseburger for me, a sugar beet for mama. Molly demonstrated the frosting of a layer funfetti cake, and small cupcakes were whisked around the room by sharply dressed individuals who were equal parts cool and unpretentious. Each bite a burst of nostalgia. Molly's book is an exceptional recount of her unlikely life on a farm spoken with wit and sophistication, and balanced by humility and candor. It is a treasure and worth adding to your collection. 

One recipe spoke to me in that it is an unexpected union, Chocolate Tahini Cake with Tahini Buttercream. As we near our anniversary, this cake inspired in me feelings of the beauty that arises when unlikely companions finally come to rest with one another. When I was in elementary school, James was enlisting in the United States Marine Corps. While he was guarding the US Embassies in Jerusalem and Paris, I was struggling through the high school dating scene but thriving academically. I played the clarinet in the marching band and swam on the swim team. He had three varsity letters. Nearing the end of my studies at Georgetown I had a difference of opinion with a colleague at an early childhood learning center where I worked, and in the heat of the moment I decided to quit entirely. I wandered down M Street with a resume in hand and walked into Filomena's Ristorante hoping to land some sort of income to fuel my Ben and Jerry's habit. I was hired by Dino, everyone knows Dino, and began work as a hostess. A man in chef whites with sad droopy eyes was sitting at a table with one of the managers. Our eyes met briefly, and then I think an entire month passed until I saw him again. I remember wanting to understand what made his eyes so very sad. 

“Chocolate cake and tahini go together fantastically, but not like bacon and eggs or peanut butter and jelly... So when the two come together and chocolate cake is able to shine her absolute brightest thanks to the strong support of the smooth nutty tahini, an X factor happens that makes this pair one of the best in the world.”

— Molly Yeh, Molly on the Range

One evening I was confirming reservations and this mysterious man walked past me carrying a strawberry. He said it looked like an elephant, mumbled a few more indiscernible words and strode off in his kitchen clogs. Fast forward to graduation from Georgetown and I moved back home to New Jersey after performing at the Vatican with my school choir. I received an enigmatic email of just a few words from Chef James, my James, inquiring if I had pictures from my trip. He loved religious history and wanted to share in my experience. Emails became texting, and texting became calling. Calling became weekend camping trips, campfire hotdogs, sinful whoppers after working a double, and train rides home to New Jersey. I worked briefly at Simon and Schuster, during our courtship if you will call it that. Very briefly. I was tasked with faxing paper orders day in and out, and on the sixth day after a reasonably unpleasant commute, I walked out and did not return. I moved to Washington DC the month following. I think I had missed Chef James. The tahini to my chocolate cake, the strong foundation to my fleeting fears. The suck it up to my there, there dear, be still. The line dance to my ballet lesson, and the Jack to my coke. This past year has not been without challenges, both of us flawed and complex. But the challenges we encounter with grace, and the joys we encounter with wonder. I've grown very fond of this cake. 

Ingredients:

Icing

• 1 cup unsalted butter at room temperature
• 1/2 cup tahini
• 2 cups powdered sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract 

Cake

• 1 3/4 cups sugar
• 1 3/4 cups flour
• 1 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
• 2 large eggs
• 1 cup whole milk
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1/2 cup tahini
• 3/4 cup boiling water

To Prepare:

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease and line the bottoms of two 8-inch cake pans.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together the sugar, flour. cocoa powder, salt, baking powder, and baking soda. In a medium bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, vanilla, oil and tahini. Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and stir to combine. Whisk in the boiling water.
3. Pour the batter into the cake pans and bake until toothpicks inserted into the center comes out clean or about 28 minutes. 
4. Let the cakes cool in the pans for 10 minutes and then remove to a rack to cool completely. 
5. For the frosting, mix together the butter and tahini until creamy in a stand mixer with a paddle attachment. Gradually add the powdered sugar and mix to combine. Mix in the salt, cinnamon and vanilla.
6. Level the cakes and stack them with a layer of frosting in between. Frost the top and sides of the cake and finish with sprinkles.

Thai Tea Cupcakes

I've been feeling trapped of late by the bitter cold of the winter, and a neurotic compulsion to clean out the clutter from every inch of my home - the pantry, the spice cabinet(s), and the deepest corner of the walk in closet I seldom ever see or touch. I put my pots in new places, as if moving them from point a to point b would have some grand effect on my mood.

My neurosis spilled over into the technology sphere, the weight of old emails and unused apps making me feel crowded, inattentive and somehow stagnant. I went years past in my inbox to find emails I had written to myself, and cherished exchanges with friends and family. I now and always have craved reassurance.  I waded through tidbits I had written to myself marked with a simple subject line of  "read this" or "this is so you, and it's ok". My habit of systematically referencing literature to find the right words to quell my anxieties or unfounded fears was prevalent then too.

Lost in pages and pages of archived mail, I read some messages written from the Francesca of years ago. Despite some advancement in knowledge and life experience, adulthood after graduation, the gauntlet of entry level work, disillusionment over finding a career, angst over longing for a partner... despite it all, that girl is still very much alive and well. Her point of view is evolving over time, she carries an extra laugh line or two, and lost her edge in the swimming pool. But otherwise, her hopes are a different utterance of the same hopes, as are her fears. 

I focused on the starred emails, marked to be read again, although as time passes we don't always make it back. This time I did, and I reflected fondly on written transcripts between confidants and friends, their voices still clear in my ear. I felt an odd peace. I was broken then, and am broken now but the world hasn't fallen to pieces. The sun still rises, and then sets. The tide rolls in, the gulls look for food. I show up, I try, sometimes fail, and try again. 

Thankfully, the reservoir of assurance and love extends beyond my archived mail. The people I surround myself with provide light for the journey. My dear friend Nicholas told me, " Every rose has thorns, is larger or smaller, richer or lighter in color, fuller or more trim. However, each is beautiful. And every spring, more grow, and each one is stunning." Everyone needs a Nicholas. I encourage you to find yours and hold him or her closely. If all else fails, check your email as you never know what insight you will find there. 

---

Now for the treats. I do my best thinking when my hands are occupied, hence the writing sparked by action. This past Sunday I got a craving for Thai Iced Tea but being that snow was falling, I opted to make a Thai Tea Cupcake instead. I adapted the recipe from an existing tea based cake in Williams Sonoma's book Bake Good Things.

Ingredients:

• 3 Thai Tea Bags
• 2/3 cup boiling water 
• 1 1/4 cups flour
• 3/4 light brown sugar, firmly packed
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 cup honey
• 4 tablespoons melted butter
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 1 large egg, room temperature 
• For whipped cream : 1 cup chilled heavy cream and 2 tablespoons sugar

To prepare:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line a cupcake tray with paper liners. In a small bowl steep the tea bags for five minutes. Discard the tea bags and let tea cool to room temperature. In a bowl, whisk together flour, brown sugar, baking soda, and salt. In a large bowl of a mixer combine honey, melted butter, and heavy cream. Add the flour mixture to the liquid mixture and beat on medium speed for about two minutes, until combined. Add the tea and beat until just combined. 

Fill the muffin cups about 3/4 with batter. Bake for 18-20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean from the center of the cupcake. Cool completely. Meanwhile, whip your cream. Add sugar to the large mixing bowl, preferably chilled, followed by heavy cream. Beat on medium high speed until stiff peaks form. Frost cooled cupcakes with whipped cream. 

Scenes from Sunday: Cinnamon Rolls

There are few things in life, if any, that I have found worth trading my Sundays for. After the responsibilities of the week and social encounters of Saturday have come and gone, a day for family, reflection, rest, and catch up arrives just in time. 

I've been allocating Sundays for sweet treats as part of my New Year's resolution. While I won't give up the desserts I enjoy entirely, I can scale back how frequently I eat them. Furthermore, I'll make them from scratch so the effort warrants the indulgence. Deprivation with regard to food,  if I am being entirely honest, is not now and likely never will be an avenue for me. So all week, I'll be dreaming of Sunday. 

This Sunday's project was a batch of Cinnamon Rolls. Sarah Kieffer, one of my favorite food writers, shared her recipe for Truck Stop Cinnamon Rolls  using Breadin5's Brioche dough. Her writing and confections are stunningly beautiful, and these rolls were every bit as comforting as I envisioned. Having never made them from scratch, I can now appreciate the thorough process, the waiting, rising, folding, and rolling. The mixing, and zesting. Plain and simple - the effort. I won't stop at Cinnabon again and mindlessly eat a bun as I window shop with my sister, hopefully. It would be a betrayal of the process I have now experienced. 

Like nurturing a baby, if I may draw that comparison as I have no children of my own but pray that someday I will, I felt this inexplicable attachment.  I was expectant and anxious. I nervously asked James, does this dough look ok to you? Will it rise? Should I add more flour? James gave me his bench scraper from culinary school, a symbolic union of his past and our future. I gingerly handled the brioche after it chilled, the aroma of honey and yeast on my fingertips. I rolled out the brioche on parchment paper, a blank canvas patiently awaiting its sweet destination. Brushed with melted butter, covered with a combination of sugars and orange zest, and then rolled ever so gently into a long log. I sliced into rolls with a bread knife and arranged them on baking sheets where they rose for 2 hours. Then, I baked them at 350 degrees for 25 minutes. Warm from the oven, I covered the rolls with homemade cream cheese icing and snuck a bite, thinking to myself that while I can't buy lavish gifts, I can coat your ribs with comforting labors of my love. 

Happy Sunday!

Scenes from Sunday: Aebleskivers

Loving someone isn't always tidy. It's muddled. Hot, cold and all varying degrees in between. Like powdered sugar all over your face, it's still a beautiful thing. A circumstance to savor. Despite the inclination to do so, you don’t necessarily want to neaten it right away.

I’m especially grateful for my loved ones as I can be a bundle of emotions, and seek assurance more than the typical person. Mama says I have been this way since I was little. On Christmas, I was looking at old family photos with my sister. She had the biggest grin in all of them, holding me close to her side as if declaring to the world, “this is my baby sister.” I smiled often, of course. But in other photos, I wore a serious gaze. To this day my Dad can identify this gaze. He says, “what are you thinking about, Francesca. I see the smoke coming from your head.” While I can try with all my might to change, or lessen my introspective lapses, it makes more sense to own my intricacies and leverage them for the better.

My dear friend Sophie shared these words from Khalil Gibran with me years ago... "Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children."

One to shed a tear with ease, as stories and realities move me readily to waterworks, these words give me solace. And while my family really has no choice but to tolerate my spectrum of feelings, my indecision, and vulnerability, I know their love is voluntary. 

This Sunday, I made something that wasn't neat, but was more than worthwhile, using my new Lodge Aebleskiver pan, a Christmas present I will cherish.  If I had my way there would be doughy goodness, with a hidden surprise of cookie spread in the middle every Sunday. And while love takes patience, these Danish pancakes are best served hot, so dig in immediately. 

Ingredients 

4 eggs, separated
1 tablespoon sugar
2 cups flour (Note: the original recipe recommends cake flour) 
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup of butter, melted
Just under 2 cups milk
Amoretti Creamy Speculoos Natural Cookie Spread 
Lodge Cast Iron Aebleskiver pan 

This recipe is slightly adjusted from Lodge Cast Iron's A Skillet Full. 

To prepare 

Separate yolks from the eggs. Beat egg yolks until lemon colored.

Sift together dry ingredients and add to the yolks alternately with the butter and milk.

Fold in stiffly beaten egg whites. Place a small amount of oil in the wells of Aebleskiver pan and fill 2/3 with batter. Add a small serving, about ½ teaspoon, of cookie spread to each. It will sink into the batter.

Cook over medium heat until the balls begin to bubble. Gently flip using a fork. Traditionally, the aebleskivers are flipped using knitting needles. Turn each over several times to brown on all sides and ensure they are baked through.

Serve hot with powdered sugar. Then call someone who is patient with you despite your flaws, and thank them. 

Scenes from Sunday: Backyard Mint Ice Cream

It's difficult to recall a time I wasn't contented and at peace while eating ice cream. Ice cream is made for happy times, summer warmth, and running outside with sweat dripping down your forehead. Actually, I must amend that statement. I can remember vivid exchanges, pouring my heart out to a girlfriend or listening on with angst as we both tucked in to a pint of Very Chocolate Chunk, distressed and vulnerable. But nonetheless, we were not alone, and there's value in that at least.

I received Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home as a gift. A gorgeous body of work, it set my summer off on a promising trajectory - countless flavors boasting inventive combinations and beautiful applications. For my first pass at Jeni's ice cream, I made Backyard Mint, both my favorite flavor and quintessentially indicative of summer. 

I cleared a Sunday afternoon and stood in the corner of my kitchen, alone, prepping all the components. First, a slurry (semiliquid mixture) is made of milk and corn starch. Milk, cream, sugar, and corn syrup are brought to a boil in a saucepan. 

The cream is removed from heat, and the slurry is whisked in.

Then, fresh mint goes into the cream; it's a welcome holiday for the senses.

The hot cream is transferred to a plastic bag and cools in an ice bath, then into the refrigerator to steep. 

She instructs 4 to 12 hours for steeping. I was seriously excited for ice cream sundaes, so I took out my mixture at 4 hours on the dot. The mint is strained and the cream is poured into the frozen maker. Note: The bowl must be entirely frozen so freeze well in advance of any ice cream-capades.

I am using this maker by Cuisinart.

Within 15 minutes or so of churning, the ice cream should be ready and placed in the freezer to harden. Meanwhile, I began preparing the cookies. While I intended to make ice cream sandwiches per Jeni's serving suggestion, my macaron cookies came out a bit flat. Fortunately, they still made a nice garnish, and were fun to prepare. I had to trace biscuit cutters as a guide for the cookie batter - I felt like a preschooler learning new things about the world all over again. 

While the cookies baked, I shaved some chocolate and stored it in the freezer. I'm fond of cold and almost crispy chocolate, like day old bread. 

Mom's favorite is Lindt milk chocolate, so milk it was. 

Making homemade ice cream is an exercise in patience. The initial steeping phase for the cream, and then the ice cream hardening in the freezer brings you to about 5 hours or so start to finish, minimum. 

When the ice cream has set, garnish with fresh mint, shaved chocolate of your choice, and chocolate wafers. 

But as the adage says, good things take time. We were all pleased with the outcome and will look to Jeni's book for more ice cream adventures this summer. And if I am really lucky, I'll make it to one of her shops. 

... and indulge.  For more tidbits from Jeni, click here.