Two weeks ago, my Chief Recipe Taster and I adopted a puppy. Rory is a three-month old Australian cattle dog mix who loves belly rubs and playing fetch. She adores pouncing on toys and getting peanut butter out of Kongs. Oh, and did I mention? She also excels at trying my patience.
I thought I knew what getting a puppy would entail. I was prepared for sleepless nights and extensive “sit” training. I was less prepared for a being who vacillates between puppy-like sweetness and adolescent-like disobedience and sucks up every minute of my time. Overnight, we went from largely deciding for ourselves how to spend our off-work hours to orienting our schedules around Rory. It’s largely been a fun and worthwhile adjustment, but an adjustment nonetheless.
With less time to spend in the kitchen, I find myself turning to that can be patient, like bread. Bread is perfect for this period; after a bit of activity I can let the dough rest, play with our pup, and return to it later. Unless you flagrantly abuse the dough by not letting it proof long enough or far too much, it is forgiving—a few minutes under or over shouldn’t hurt. This recipe uses both sourdough starter and yeast as leavening agents, so you pretty much can’t fail, while milk, butter, and eggs lend a pillowy texture. The rolls are the perfect accompaniment to fall soups and stews, and would be a welcome addition to your Thanksgiving table, too. They’re a bread that extends you patience while you exercise your own.
Sourdough Pumpkin Rolls with Sage and Browned Butter
Source: I Thought There Would Be Free Food
Makes 16 rolls
Active time: ~60 minutes; total time: ~4 hours
Ingredients:
115 grams milk, any percent
3 grams active dry yeast
40 grams brown sugar
60 grams butter
15 grams finely minced sage
100 grams ripe sourdough starter
2 egg yolks, lightly beaten
145 grams pumpkin puree (NOT pumpkin pie filling)
300 grams all-purpose flour
150 grams whole-wheat flour
10 grams table salt
1 egg yolk mixed with a little water, for egg wash (optional)
Directions:
Warm the milk in the microwave or on the stove until it’s just above room temperature—it should feel warm to the touch, not hot.
Add the yeast and brown sugar to a large bowl. Add the milk when it is warm, and stir to combine. Let the yeast proof for ~10 minutes.
While the yeast is proofing, brown the butter. Place the butter in a small skillet and heat over medium-low. Once the butter has melted, increase the heat to medium. Swirl the pan regularly or stir it with a spatula to ensure that the butter browns evenly. Once the butter is studded with little brown bits and smells toasty and delicious, take the skillet off the heat and stir in the sage. Set aside and let cool slightly.
Once the yeast has proofed, add the sourdough starter, egg yolks, pumpkin puree, and brown butter-sage mixture to the bowl and stir to combine.
Add the flours and salt to the bowl and mix with your hand or a spatula. Using your hands, work the dough into a mass and then knead until the dough is smooth, ~10 minutes. If needed, add splashes of milk or flour to achieve the right consistency.
Place the dough in a greased bowl, cover, and let rise until puffy and almost doubled in size. This will likely take at least 90 minutes, depending on the temperature of your kitchen.
When the dough has doubled, knock it down gently and turn out onto a lightly floured workspace.
Divide the dough into 16 pieces. From here, you can roll each piece into a rope at least 18 inches long and form them into knots using these instructions, or simply shape them into balls. Either way, set the formed rolls on a parchment-covered baking sheet, cover loosely with a light towel or plastic wrap, and let rise until puffy, at least 60 minutes.
Towards the end of the proofing period, position a rack in the middle of your oven and preheat it to 350°F.
Once the rolls have proofed, gently brush each roll with the egg wash mixture. Bake the rolls for 17-20 minutes, until lightly golden brown. Serve warm.
Candles and cutting carnage during the first-anniversary photo shoot
A few days ago, this little blog of mine turned 1. I had a celebratory post all planned out; I’d been developing a cake recipe for weeks, thinking about what I would write, and had the accompanying photographs framed out in my head. But when I went to translate vision into reality, reality hit hard. The cake just would not behave—or maybe it was me who wasn’t behaving. I cut too far into one of the layers when I tried to level it, and didn’t get the amount of frosting between layers the same. The next day, when I went to photograph the cake, none of the slices I cut were as perfect as I wanted them to be, perhaps, ahem, because my Chief Recipe Taster and I just couldn’t wait to taste-test the confection and had cut into it the day before. By the time I got around to staging, the light in the corner of our flat where I take my photos wasn’t quite as good as I’d hoped, and none of the photos were, either (exhibit A, the least-bad photo which features some of the cutting carnage in the background). Nothing turned out how I’d planned.
Truth be told, this incident pretty much sums up my first year of food blogging: I’ve tried a lot and then needed to try again. Most times this trying has been the result of something in the recipe not turning out as I hoped for (we ate that Savory Pumpkin Pie about five times before I was completely satisfied with it). But other times, the trying and failing was the result of events outside of my control. The advent of the pandemic and its effects on the world; the murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and so many other BIPOC folks in the U.S. and around the world; environmental degradation; the death of RBG and the run-up to this election: so much has happened this year and I, like so many others, have struggled to keep pace. At times, everything going on made me think of giving up blogging—who needs to read about cake or Michigan strawberries when disease and inequality are rampant and seem to grow worse every day? What, I have wondered frequently this year, is the point?
Sometimes I stopped writing to wrestle with this question—there was quite a long pause between the “Orange You Glad This Isn’t a COVID Pun?” cocktail and Buckwheat Crepes with Sautéed Leeks and Fried Eggs—but in the end, two things always drew me back. The first is one that many of us who spend our days hunched over computers may recognize: the simple joy of creating something with my hands, something physical if temporal. It doesn’t matter if I’m shredding zucchini for muffins or chopping eggplant for ragout, knowing that there will be some tangible outcome is satisfying in and of itself.
The second is a bit different. You see, I believe that baking and cooking, the act of preparing food, is a subtle act of resistance and a demonstration of hope. After all, despite my fears about the state of the world, would I really keep creating if I didn’t believe in a future? Even on the days when I’m deeply afraid of what that future might look like, why else would I create a celebration cake but for the fact that something right now is worth celebrating, that something in the future might be worth celebrating?
So I keep coming up with recipe ideas, keep testing them obsessively, keep photographing them and returning to my little corner of the Internet to write about them. I do it even though I don’t have many followers. I do it as an act and as an affirmation, and really, I think that that is enough.
Makes one 6-inch, three-layer cake; one 8-inch, two-layer cake; or one 9×13, single-layer cake
Active time: ~90 minutes; total time ~3 hours
Notes:
The frosting recipe makes enough to “naked” frost a three-tier, six-inch layer cake. If you prefer to frost the cake all the way around, you may want to double the recipe.
Many of the ingredients in this recipe need to be at “room temperature.” This should be ~70°F, or when you can just press an indent into the butter and the eggs don’t feel chilly to the touch.
Cake Ingredients:
1 14.3 ounce-bag Oreos
1 stick room-temperature butter
1/3 cup room-temperature coconut oil
1 generous cup white sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
4 room-temperature egg whites
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
2 cups cake flour
1 cup room-temperature buttermilk
Frosting Ingredients
3 large egg whites
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup white sugar
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar
2 sticks room-temperature butter
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
Directions:
Position a rack in the middle of your oven before preheating it to 350°F.
Prepare your cake tins. Grease them well, with either cooking spray or butter (if using butter, don’t forget to flour them, too) and line the bottoms with parchment paper.
Crush or roughly chop the Oreos so that they’re a mix of sizes. Divide them into two bowls, one for the cake and one for the frosting.
Make the cake: Add the butter, coconut oil, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt to large bowl or that of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Beat the ingredients with a hand mixer or stand mixer set to medium speed until they are light and fluffy, approximately 5 minutes. Add the egg whites one at a time and beat well to combine after each. Beat in the vanilla and almond extracts.
Add half of the flour, then mix on low to combine. Add half of the buttermilk and, again, mix to combine. Repeat with the remaining flour and buttermilk. Gently but thoroughly, fold the Oreos into the batter.
Divide the batter evenly between the cake tins. Gently smooth the tops with a spatula before transferring them to the oven.
Bake the cakes for about 40 minutes, or until they are pale gold on the top and a cake tester inserted into the middle of each cake comes out with just a few crumbs clinging to it.
When the cakes are done, remove them from the oven. Let them cool in the tins for a bit before turning them out onto a wire cooling rack, removing the parchment rounds from their bottoms, and turning them right-side up again. After they cool completely—which will take at least an hour—you can frost them or wrap them well in plastic wrap and frost them the next day.
Make the frosting: Set a medium saucepan filled with about 2 inches of water to simmer. While the water is heating, whisk egg whites, salt, and sugar in a medium heat-proof bowl. Set the bowl over the saucepan and cook until the sugar has dissolved and the egg whites are warm—you can test this by dipping a spatula in the mixture and carefully running a finger through it.
Once the egg whites are warm and sugar dissolved, transfer them to the bowl of a standing mixer. Using the whisk attachment, mix the egg white-sugar syrup on low speed until foamy. Add the cream of tartar and increase the speed to medium-high; beat until you get stiff, glossy peaks. This will take ~10 minutes.
With the mixer on medium-low, add the butter, two tablespoons at a time, beating well to incorporate after each addition.
After you’ve added all of the butter, beat in the vanilla. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the Oreos; mix to combine. Your frosting should look smooth and creamy; if it appears curdled or too loose, the temperature may be off; see here for a trouble-shooting guide.
Keep the buttercream at room temperature, covered with plastic wrap, if you’re planning to frost your cake soon; otherwise, it can keep in the refrigerator for several days. If you do chill it, bring the frosting to room temperature and whip it in your stand mixer before using.
Frost the cake: Use a sharp, serrated knife to carefully level your cake layers (scraps = baker’s reward). Place one layer on a serving platter and top with a healthy dollop of frosting; use a butter knife or off-set spatula to spread the frosting around the cake, working from the middle out. Repeat with additional cake layers. I like to let my cake sit for at least an hour before cutting into it, to ensure that the layers and frosting have time to meld together.
