Showing posts with label bundt cake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bundt cake. Show all posts

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Rose of Persia Cake . . . with Cherry and Rose Water Glaze


I don't know . . . maybe it was the sumptuous and exotic name that first hooked me. After all, I do love roses. And the very word, Persia, sounds kind of sumptuous, don't you think?


Luscious and rich, it's a soft mink coat of a word. (And do you know what trying on a mink coat feels like? It feels like every nice, handsome man you've ever met is gently putting his arm around you.) Say it slowly . . . Perrrsssiaa. See what I mean?


Well, anyway, it took me a while to get around to finally making this unusual cake. Moist and deeply flavorful, the warm cake is finished off with a sweet, tangy glaze that's still hot when you drizzle it on. When I first stumbled upon this recipe a couple of months ago, in a bean cookbook of all things, I mentally filed it away as an item that I knew I'd absolutely have to try. So, over a period of a few weeks, I haphazardly foraged local markets, prowling for the less common ingredients.


Speaking of which, what's the least common ingredient in the cake? That would have to be the chick pea flour. Initially I didn't know where I'd find it, but a couple of Middle Eastern grocery stores later, a chunky little package of chick-pea/garbanzo-bean flour was nestled in my shopping cart. It is, after all, the key ingredient in falafel, a fact that I'd completely forgotten. And, given that metro Detroit is home to a significant population of Middle Eastern families (thus metro Detroiters are the happy patrons of many small Middle Eastern restaurants), one can be sure that a lot of falafel is being fried up around here on a daily--if not hourly--basis.


So, anyway, having assembled all of the critical components--dried cherries, unsweetened cherry juice, rose water, pistachios, and chick pea flour--the planets aligned, as I knew they would, and today became the perfect day for Rose of Persia Cake.


About this recipe . . .

From Crescent Dragonwagon's award winning book, Bean by Bean, I stuck pretty closely to her original formula. That said, I did use less lemon zest in the cake than it called for, slightly more salt, and I modified the glaze recipe to tone down the citrus aspect a bit (it called for half a cup of lemon juice . . . that's a lot) and emphasize the cherry juice and rose water. And, I rewrote the instructions to reflect exactly what I did (I rearranged some of the less critical steps), but the recipe concept is still entirely Ms. Dragonwagon's, and I must give her props for coming up with such a truly unique and tasty cake.


And fair warning: You will be entranced by the scent of this cake baking, just as Crescent predicts in her book. The aroma is a curious and delicate mixture of fruity sweetness and something akin to freshly mown grass. Sounds weird, I know, but it was actually a really good smell. I kept sniffing the air, trying to put my finger on what the scent reminded me of. I am still pondering . . .



Rose of Persia Cake
with Cherry and Rose Water Glaze
(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

You'll need either a 10-inch tube pan, or a 12-cup bundt pan, or several small loaf pans. (I made mine in a 10-inch non-stick tube pan.)

Ingredients for the cake:

1/2 cup dried cherries (Crescent Dragonwagon recomments using dried Bing cherries, but I used dried tart Michigan cherries and they were delicious.)
1/2 cup sour cherry juice, not sweetened
vegetable oil cooking spray (Pam)
1 and 1/2 cups sifted all-purpose flour (measure it out after sifting),
       unbleached, plus two extra tablespoons of flour for the pan
1 and 2/3 cups granulated sugar, plus two extra tablespoons of
       sugar for the pan
1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 and 1/2 cups sifted chick pea flour (measure it out after sifting)
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
3/4 cup buttermilk or 1/2 cup plain yogurt thinned with water or milk (I actually used 1/2 cup buttermilk mixed with 1/4 plain yogurt because I didn't have enough buttermilk.)
2 tablespoons of rose water (Along with the chick pea flour, you can expect to find rose water in Middle Eastern markets, and in the imported foods section of major grocery stores.)
1 tablespoon of lemon zest, finely grated

Ingredients for the glaze:
2 teaspoons of rose water
2 tablespoons of fresh squeezed lemon juice
1/4 cup unsweetened cherry juice (leftover from soaked cherries in cake recipe)
2 tablespoons of water
1/2 cup granulated sugar

To sprinkle over the glazed cake:
1/4 cup chopped pistachio nuts

To make the cake:
Several hours prior to assembling the cake, soak the dried cherries in the 1/2 cup of sour cherry juice to  plump them up.

When ready to make the cake, preheat your oven to 325 degrees.

Spray your pan liberally with the vegetable oil spray. In a little bowl, whisk together the 2 tablespoons flour and the 2 tablespoons of sugar. (You may find you need even more of this mixture to fully prep your pan. I figure, better to over prep than under prep! The original recipe only called for 1 tablespoon of each. For me, that wasn't nearly enough.) Coat the inside of your pan evenly and thoroughly by shaking the flour/sugar all around. Tap out the excess. (If you're using a two-part tube pan, be sure to hold that inner part in there when doing this. It's kind of a messy procedure, so do it over your sink.)

In a large bowl, whisk together the two sifted flours, along with the baking soda and salt. Set aside.

Drain all the juice off of the soaked cherries and reserve it; don't toss it out! Place the cherries themselves in another bowl.

In the large bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment, cream the butter on high speed until it looks light in color and very fluffy. Continuing on high speed, pour the sugar in slowly. Keep mixing for a few minutes, until the whole thing is really nice and fluffy. One at a time, on medium speed, add in the eggs, mixing each one in until well combined, about a minute or so.

In yet another medium size bowl (I know, lots of dirty dishes), stir together the buttermilk (or buttermilk & yogurt, or yogurt & water, etc.--whatever you end up using), the rose water, and 1/4 cup of the reserved cherry juice.

On the lowest speed of your mixer, add the flour mixture into the butter mixture, alternating with the buttermilk mixture (three equal portions of flour and two equal portions of buttermilk). Beat only long enough to combine after each addition. Stop and scrape the bowl and beaters as needed. Use care not to overbeat the batter. Take the bowl off of the mixer, and gently stir in the lemon zest and drained cherries.

Spoon the batter into the prepared pan, trying to avoid leaving big air gaps. Smooth the top so it's even. Firmly but gently tap the filled pan on your work surface once or twice to help remove big air bubbles.

On the middle rack of your oven, bake the cake for about an hour and ten minutes (less time if you're using smaller pans, or a bundt pan). The cake is done when a toothpick inserted comes out clean, the top is deeply golden brown, and the cake feels kind of firm to the touch if you lightly press on it with your finger. Let the cake cool on a rack for about ten minutes, then remove it from the pan and put it right on  the serving plate you'll be using.

As it is cooling, make the glaze. Place all the glaze ingredients in a small saucepan and heat it on the stove until it just boils, then turn the heat down and let it simmer for about four or five minutes, just until it becomes slightly thicker. Stir it frequently and don't walk away; it's very easy to burn hot sugar. When the glaze looks ready, pour about one third of it over the warm cake. Then, poke several holes in the top of the cake with a toothpick, and drizzle the remainder of the glaze over the cake (I aimed for the holes).

If you like, chop 1/4 cup of pistachios and sprinkle them over the cake right after it has been glazed. Keep the cooled cake covered. The cake is so moist, it should be fine for several days.


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Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Vanilla Velvet Bundt Cake with White Rum Glaze . . .



What a good cake. Velvety texture, nicely balanced flavor. And so pretty. I don't wax rhapsodic about baking pans at the drop of a hat, but in this case, you'll have to excuse me while I do just that. I'll try to make it short and simply say, "Bless you Nordicware, for making such a swirly, whirly, incredibly high-quality, seemingly indestructible, unbelievably nonstick, bundt pan. (And thanks to you, too, Williams Sonoma, for selling it!)"



I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no, I did not get the pan for free, nor am I being compensated to gush over it. I bought it myself. Really. I just happen to love it. Completely. Yeah okay, but why, you ask? Pull up a chair and I'll tell you.



I've been around the block a few times with various and sundry bundt pans, as you may know, with mixed and sometimes sad results--light ones, dark ones, flimsy, not so flimsy, nonstick, everythingstick--you name it. I've made coconut bundts, lemon bundts, sweet potato bunds, chocolate zucchini bundts, mocha bundts, banana bundts, ad infinitum bundts, and I've rarely had an entirely problem-free experience.



But the Nordicware Heritage bundt did not let me down in any respect. As pans designed for home bakers go, it's heavy duty, to be sure. You'd probably have to drop this bad boy from a highway overpass to dent it (but I'd advise against that unless you're overly curious about the inner-workings of the justice system). And, if you grease and flour with the utmost care, you will be rewarded a hundred fold when you unmold your cake. Prepare to gasp in stunned delight when you see how perfectly it emerges. No blemishes, and no forlorn cake chunks left clinging to the pan. I had to holler for my husband and son, who were entrenched on the couch watching an old western, to come and look at it with me. They, too, kind of gasped and I think one of them even remarked, "Wow!" Then they returned to the couch. I remained in the kitchen and just stood there, gazing in rapt amazement, drinking in the sight of that perfectly shaped cake, astonished that it had actually entered the world so unscathed. Apparently, bundtastrophes can be avoided, and my cake faith has been restored.




About this recipe . . . 

For my maiden voyage with this pan, I used the basic recipe that came with it, making a couple minor tweaks here and there, including the addition of a very modest amount of white rum in the batter. I also added a quick glaze, which I flavored as well with a dash of white rum, to the semi-cooled cake and I reworded the instructions to reflect exactly what I did. It's an easy cake with a beautiful crumb. I can't wait to concoct further variations on this one.



Vanilla Velvet Bundt Cake with White Rum Glaze

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Place a shelf in the lower third of the oven.

Carefully grease your bundt pan, taking care to get the grease in every nook and cranny; don't skimp, but don't leave visible globs either. Flour the pan generously, then tap out the excess. (I highly recommend greasing a bundt pan with a professional pastry brush; I use a round, natural-bristle brush. It fits well into corners and doesn't become easily misshapen the way flat pastry brushes do.)

For the cake:
2 and 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 and 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 level tsp. coarse kosher salt
2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, softened and at room temperature
1 and 1/2 cups granulated sugar
4 large eggs, beaten lightly
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 and 1/2 tsp. white rum
3/4 cup milk, room temperature
1/4 cup half & half, room temperature

For the glaze:
1 cup confectioner's sugar (sifted, or be sure to use 10x)

1and 1/2 to 3 Tbsp. white rum (depending upon how thick you want the glaze to be, and how much rum flavoring you prefer)

In a medium size bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

Stir the milk and half & half together in one container.

In the large bowl of your mixer, on medium speed, beat the butter for about 30 seconds, just until smooth and creamy. Gradually add in the granulated sugar, still on medium speed; beat for approximately 5 minutes, until fluffy; stop to scrape as needed.

Add in the eggs one at a time, beating well after each one, scraping periodically. Pour in the vanilla and white rum, and beat for about 1 minute, until combined.

On your mixer's lowest speed, add in the flour alternately with the milk, starting and ending with the flour (3 equal portions of flour and 2 equal portions of milk). Don't worry if the batter looks sort of curdled at the start of this process. Mix each addition only until incorporated, pausing between additions to scrape the bowl and beaters.

Carefully spoon the batter into the pan; don't pour it from the bowl. Using the back of your spoon, urge the batter up the inner and outer sides of the pan (you'll be creating what looks like a shallow trough).

Bake the cake on the rack set in the lower third of the oven, for about 50 - 60 minutes (mine took 55 minutes), until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, and the cake looks like it's beginning to pull away from the sides of the pan. (Try to resist opening the oven at all until the cake's been in there at least 45 minutes. That's my advice.)

Transfer the pan to a cooling rack and let the cake cool for 15 minutes only. Now pick up the pan by its edges and, still holding it upright, tap it firmly against a hard surface. Hold the cooling rack over the pan and invert the two. Carefully lift the pan off of your cake, and let it finish cooling on the rack.

To make the glaze:

In a small bowl, stir together the confectioners' sugar and the rum, adding the liquid in slowly until the glaze is the texture you prefer; add more sugar if needed to thicken it. Stir until no lumps at all remain. Set the cake on its rack atop a sheet pan, and drizzle the glaze over the almost-cooled cake. Let the glaze set before slicing and serving the cake.
 

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