…Especially when “someone else’s roots” involve something delicious and full of sugar and butter.
(A tune from my favorite Irishman, from a show I’m privileged to have attended)
So yes, I decided to gift you all with a spur-of-the-moment post because I’ve been craving soda bread for an unbelievably long time. What’s “unbelievably long,” you ask? Oh, I’d say it’s been about ten days.
Yep. I’m addicted. And what better time to share this addiction with all of you dear, sweet readers than St. Patrick’s Day?
Now, let me just say this: I have no idea whether this is authentic or not. It tastes pretty damned authentic, but really, I know exactly nothing. Also, it is ridiculously easy to make (especially if you enjoy getting really messy and then cleaning up after your/my filthy self), so let’s quit the small talk and get to it!
Irish Soda Bread (makes a pretty large loaf that will still be difficult to emotionally and physically part with)
5 cups of all-purpose flour
1 cup of granulated sugar
1 tablespoon of baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons of salt
1 teaspoon of baking soda
1/2 cup of butter, cubed and softened
2 1/2 cups of raisins (you can use dried cherries or cranberries if you so desire)
2 1/2 cups of buttermilk
1 large egg
Preheat your oven to 350º and generously butter a skillet with high sides or a dutch oven. In the largest bowl you own, blend together flour, sugar, baking powder, salt and baking soda. Add butter and blend together with fingers until the mixture looks crumbly and coarse, like this:
Whisk together the buttermilk and egg until blended, then stir buttermilk mixture into the rest of the ingredients. and mix just until all ingredients are incorporated. Do not overmix.
Now, working very carefully, transfer your now-definitely-sticky dough into the skillet or dutch oven you’re using. This will be a pain and will result in you shedding a tear for all of the flour you just probably lost to your floor.
With a knife dipped in flour, trace a large X onto the top of the dough, then send this into the oven until the bread is cooked through, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let cool in the pan for about ten minutes, then transfer to a wire rack and let cool completely.
And then….
This. And…
Yes, those are Goldfish in the background. Don’t judge me.
This.
I can’t stop eating this. Seriously, there are crumbs in between the keys on my keyboard right now, because I’m a disgusting human being. Hopefully that is enough to convince you that you should spend a couple of hours making this. You’re welcome.
So I’m writing this in kind of a grumpy mood. Selfishly, I’m hoping that writing (which I love) about baking (which I also love) will cure my blues. Sorry, world. Please accept my apologies for the emotion that is about to follow. Also, if any of you deem this to be “too real,” I invite you to please scroll down to the pictures and recipe. Those will kind of rock your world.
Now, as for the rest of you, boy are you brave.
Okay, yes, I have been feeling quite down lately. That most hated tradition I mentioned? That would be my now-apparently-annual trip to the emergency room. I obviously haven’t croaked or anything, so I’m fine in that respect. But, this year’s trip meant crying alone in an unfamiliar place while hooked up to an IV, flying high on morphine and asking everyone around me who this Dr. Unna-sing whose name was emblazoned across my ID bracelet was (I later came to find out it said “Dr. Unassigned” which should give you some indication of how rough an experience that really was for me). Fortunately, a follow-up appointment and minor procedure revealed all to be well. If anything, I think the “minor procedure” may have made my boyfriend’s week, as it produced a few mortifying pictures and videos of me lying on an examination table and muttering like a blithering fool due to the amount of anesthesia I’d been given. Life. Life is…life.
All of this is addition to the incredibly long, tortuously drawn-out existential crisis I’ve been having. Perhaps you can help me with the following:
Can you pay my bills? Can you pay my telephone bills? Can you pay my hospital bills? Can you pay my Con Edison bills? (I did decide to customize the lyrics, yes)
When did my life become Mean Girls? Am I the Tina Fey character or the Lindsay Lohan one? Please say I’m the Tina Fey one? 😦
Stamos, dare I bow down to you now? Will that simple act end all of this tragedy?
This is here to reward you for reading all of that. Thank you. Bless you.
Well, I truly do hope someone swings by to answer at least one of the above questions, because I have a case of the sads, and the only cure is answers. Oh…wait…answers…and cake. Chocolate Mousse Crepe Cake, to be very specific. Set aside a few hours and wear the ugliest smock you own for this thing. It will all be worth the mess (Note: this is the same thing I tell my soul).
Oh, I played around with this recipe a lot, and adapted from here, here and here. Mostly. Kind of. You want to just do this thing?
(Also, a slight warning: the mousse in this cake contains raw egg. The yolk, as you’ll see, does become heated during the cooking process, but the whites do not, which means there is a very slight salmonella risk. Since I am apparently attracted to hospitals these days, I was willing to take the risk.)
Chocolate Mousse Crepe Cake (makes one crazy-looking, 10-layer monstrosity)
For the crepes (makes 10)
1 1/2 cups of milk (I used skim)
3 large eggs
3 tablespoons of water, room temperature
2 tablespoons of canola oil
1 1/2 teaspoons of vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups of flour
1/4 cup of granulated sugar
1/4 cup of cocoa powder
1/8 teaspoon of salt
For the chocolate mousse (makes 4 heaping servings or more than enough to fill this monstrosity)
6 ounces of semisweet chocolate, chopped (I used chocolate chips)
3 tablespoons of butter
3 eggs, separated
1/4 cup plus two tablespoons of granulated sugar
1/2 cup of cold heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon of vanilla extract
Let’s roll, friends.
To begin, place all of the ingredients for your crepe batter into a blender and process until completely smooth. Refrigerate batter for at least an hour, and no more than three hours.
While the batter cools and firms up, we can work on our chocolate mousse. For the mousse, place the chopped chocolate and butter in a glass bowl and set it over a pot of simmering water. Stir with a wooden spoon until melted and smooth. Remove the mixture from heat and allow to cool slightly, then stir in egg yolks, one at a time, until fully incorporated, and set aside.
In a separate bowl, beat egg whites using a hand or stand mixer until foamy. Gradually add in 1/4 cup of the sugar and keep beating until stiff peaks form. The peaks should basically be so stiff that you can turn the bowl upside down without worrying about any of the whites spilling out. This takes time. Please don’t do what did and try to show off by flipping the bowl over too soon. Confidence is always key, over-confidence is foolish and humiliating.
And now (yep, lotsa bowls, hope you have a dishwasher or love the smell of Dawn dish soap on your dainty hands) in a chilled bowl, whip the heavy cream until it begins to thicken. Add in the remaining 2 tablespoons of sugar and vanilla, and beat until the cream forms soft peaks.
Gently fold the egg white mixture into the chocolate mixture, then carefully fold this into the whipped cream. Don’t overwork the mixture, as it will start to become heavy and soupy.
Cover your perfect, light mousse and refrigerate until ready to use.
Let’s now move back to the crepes. I should tell you all that I’ve made regular crepes for breakfast on several Saturday mornings, and have, without fail, screwed up at least the very first couple of crepes. I believe my issue is extreme impatience. I never wait for the pan to get hot enough before pouring the batter in. So, you know, not being me is key.
Now, heat a lightly-greased 8-inch crepe skillet/regular skillet. Then pour two tablespoons of crepe batter into the pan and swirl around until the batter looks paper-thin. When the top looks dry, flip and cook for another 20-30 seconds. Repeat these steps with the remaining batter (greasing the pan again if necessary). Allow to cool completely.
YUM.
We’re pretty much almost done here, I swear. Once your crepes have cooled, it’s time to assemble this cake. Lay a crepe down on a cake plate, then spread a healthy amount of mousse over it. Top with another crepe, then top this crepe with more mousse, etc., until you reach the top of the holy mountain of good-God-nessness. You can top this with homemade whipped cream (which I highly recommend) if desired.
Refrigerate until completely cooled, at least four hours, and preferably overnight.
I know, I know, it’s kind of really ugly-looking right? Well, as you all hopefully know by now, I’m no artist. But let’s talk about what really matters here…how’d it taste.
Sweet mother. It was a day in heaven with a clean bill of health, a thousand happy elephants prancing around on a sandy beach and everything else that you could ever imagine as being part of your best day ever. This thing was worth every minute of every hour I spent working on it.
Believe me, if you are looking to impress, look no further than this cake.
Readers! The following is a post I am ridiculously excited to share. I think I’ve mentioned many times that my boyfriend James is kind of a genius when it comes to kitchen stuffs. As you’ll all see for yourselves, mama wasn’t lying. Enjoy, and I’ll see you all back here soon! xo – Sad Shibow
Hi people from over the computer,
Have you ever made Jell-o? Easy, right? Making Jelly is kinda like making Jell-o. You only need a handful of things, really: sugar, pectin, something you want to turn into a jelly, and one or two chromosomes that wear plaid shirts. Since we have all those things, and Sad Shibow let me near the stove Tuesday, we made some jelly from black tea. It was tasty! No kidding. We didn’t have any on hand, but I pictured its sweet jiggle on a Carr’s wheat cracker with some brie. Try it. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed at all. Now, before anyone gets nervous about the doyenne’s absence, know this: Sad Shibow will be watching over you as she was watching over me as I made this. You’ve all seen Star Wars. She’ll be like Obi-Wan Kenobi when he was translucent and blue-ish. But Sad Shibow will be translucent orange-ish and riding on a mid-sized Indian elephant with long eyelashes (Ed. note: All of these things are true. None of these things are untrue). Are you getting all this down? So, don’t quake. This recipe is for everybody. If you can make a cup of tea, you can make this.
Enough foreplay. Together let’s march … jellyward!
Stuff you need:
3/4 cup of sugar
2 tbsp powdered pectin
2 small saucepans
wooden spoon
cardamom seeds
1 lemon
3 bags of your favorite black tea
4 cups of water
glass jar with a lid
Strainer
Other stuff you “need” (for the countrified effect)
A screen, somewhere in your house, that needs mending and is letting in junebugs that are so big that your cat has to chew them for a full thirty seconds before she swallows.
A Straw hat
hyphenated first name (Sybil-May, James-James)
Becoming, at one time or another, a specific shade of green when coveting your neighbor’s new tractor (John Deere Green)
Very firm ideas as to how pie thieves should be punished
Directions:
Fill your small saucepan up with your four cups of water. Set it on the stove, boil it. Turn the flame down lower and put your three teabags in, taking care to strip them of their paper anchors. Cut a lemon wedge and squeeze a little of its juice in. Hull six or seven of the cardamom seeds and put them in there too. Let it all simmer for about ten minutes.
After the bell rings for the next round, come out swinging, then strain the contents of the saucepan into your other saucepan. Take your lemon. Grind some zest from it into the pan. Turn the heat up again. Get a good boil going then slowly stir in the sugar. Mix it until the sugar disappears into the tea. Next, add the pectin. Stir that in until it disappears.
At this point you should feel like a magician. Picture yourself in a top hat as you stir the rolling boil for a few minutes. This will cook it down some. Turn off the flame. If you have a funnel, set it over the mouth of your jar and pour the contents in. Fill the first jar up about 3/4s of the way, then put the rest in the other jar.
Let them sit there and steam for a few minutes. When they stop steaming, put the lids on and put them in the fridge. When they finally cool down, they will turn into… part of breakfast.
Jelly on brie. Highly, highly recommended.
BLACK TEA CARDAMOM JELLY.
Forgive me, being here next to this warm oven with this group of even warmer people has made me a little emotional.
Blotting my eyes with the corner of a buttery napkin,
James
Readers, you loved him, didn’t you? I knew you would. This fella is also an extremely talented author of fiction. Please check out his work here: http://jamesvhilger.blogspot.com/.
This. And…
Sad Shibow 