A cake for Spring (and Breakfast)

Dear Boo,

I'm not much of a baker anymore, a fact that the Husband often laments. I first came to cooking through baking, as I think many people do, and I used to enjoy the methodical, detailed instructions and found it comforting to know that one must really follow the exact steps to come up with a successful product. No scary riffing or improvisation expected. And I've always been a very good rule follower. But over the years as I've gained some confidence in the kitchen, I've come to enjoy the freedom of trusting my taste and tweaking recipes as I go and to be increasingly frustrated by the precision, patience, and multiple dirty dishes required of baking. Coinciding with this was the mysterious disappearance of my sweet tooth, which miraculously and somewhat controversially reappeared recently without so much as a Hey, how ya been. 

Which is how I found myself making this cake. It seemed a perfect compromise for me: practically a one-bowl wonder, nicely unfussy but pretty in presentation, not too sweet as balanced by the sour lemon, and not too healthy (despite the yogurt) as balanced by the copious amounts of cream dolloped and cascading down the slice. And a very welcome taste of a very welcome new season. (There are bursting buds on the tree outside my window! They make the discarded plastic bags hanging off the branches look so whimsical!)

We ate it as dessert with Easter dinner, but it is equally appropriate with a cup of afternoon tea, or for that matter with morning coffee. I realized the next day when I brought the leftovers to work, that it suspiciously resembles the top of a muffin. And I'm just fine with that. 

Love,

The Mouse


Lemon-Blueberry Yogurt Cake with Lemon Cream 

Adapted by The Kitchn from Gourmet, Serves 8 

For the cake: 
1 cup all-purpose flour 
1/2 teaspoon baking powder 
1/2 teaspoon baking soda 
1/4 teaspoon salt 
2/3 cup granulated sugar 
Zest of one lemon (about 1 1/2 teaspoons) 
1/2 stick (4 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened 
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract 
1 large egg 1/4 cup plain Greek yogurt (whole or 2%) 
1/4 cup milk 
1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries (no need to thaw) 
1 1/2 tablespoons turbinado sugar 

For the lemon cream: 

1/4 cup heavy whipping cream 
2 tablespoons store-bought lemon curd 

Preheat oven to 400°F with rack in the middle. Butter a 9-inch round cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper. Flour the sides. 

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a medium bowl and set aside. Place the granulated sugar and lemon zest in the bowl of a stand mixer or in a large mixing bowl. Using your fingers, rub the zest into the sugar until it is the texture of damp sand and smells like lemon candy. Add the butter and beat in a stand mixer or with an electric mixer on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Beat in the vanilla and the egg. Add the yogurt and beat well. 

At low speed, beat in half the flour mixture until just combined. Then beat in the milk and remaining flour mixture. 

Spread batter evenly in the pan. Scatter berries over top and sprinkle evenly with turbinado sugar. Bake until cake is golden-brown and a tester inserted in the center comes out clean, about 25-30 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes in the pan, then turn out onto a rack and cool for 10-15 more minutes. Remove parchment and invert onto a plate. 

Meanwhile, using an electric mixer or immersion blender with a whisk attachment, beat cream and lemon curd on high speed until creamy, smooth and thick. It should be about the consistency of regular yogurt. Keep refrigerated until ready to serve. Serve cake warm or at room temperature, dolloped with lemon cream.

Sausage Pancakes. Yeah, you heard me.

What's hiding under these pancakes?

Dear Boo,

I've had a quite a few million dollar ideas in my lifetime. There was the iphone app that turns the screen of your phone into a mirror for makeup touch-ups. And there was the heartbreak when I realized this already exists. And who could forget my million dollar jingle for Shout Detergent, sung to the tune of Tears for Fears "Shout" (shout, shout, get it all out! These are the stains I can do without!). SC Johnson--call me. And then there was the sausage pancake. A brilliant idea I was sure would be embraced by The Boyfriend--oops, sorry, not used to the new terminology yet--The Fiance, who has been known to douse a plate of pancakes, sausage and bacon with maple syrup, and by you, The Boo who does not fear an odd combination of pork product and sweets (see: bacon bark, and peanut butter and bacon sandwiches). And yet, when I presented this idea to the two of you, triumph ringing through in the timbre of my voice, I was laughed--LAUGHED--out of the kitchen, and it pains me to recall was met even with a flat-out, collective "EW GROSS." My pride bruised and my dreams dashed, I forced a laugh and retreated behind the proverbial diner menu of bored, traditional breakfast foods.

But, in the words of Winston Churchill, I never never never gave up.

So you can imagine I wasn't entirely shocked when I saw this:

Dunkin Donuts' Sausage Bites, "bite-sized sausage encased in maple-flavored pancake balls", a new breakfast offering which, while totally disgusting, will surely be worth at least a million dollars for the donut giant.

And so it came that this morning for Sunday breakfast, there were homemade sausage pancakes on the menu at the Mouse House. And while The Boyfriend still holds he prefers the two items intact and separate, united on his plate only by maple syrup (wrong), everyone at our table could agree the creation was delicious (And, it goes without saying, surely superior to the laboratory-created, mass-marketed crap).


Of course, poke around on the internet and it becomes very clear that I'm not the only one to have had said million dollar idea.
But no matter.
A delicious union of sweet and savory breakfast treats: One million dollars.
The feeling that comes with saying I TOLD YOU SO to all the sausage pancake haters (who shall remain named The Boo and The Boyfriend): Priceless.

Love,

The Mouse


The Mouse's Sausage Pancakes

Not that you really need a recipe...

Take 4 breakfast sausage links (we used chicken because that's what they had). Remove the casing and break up into quarter-sized chunks. Brown in a pan with a bit of oil, until cooked through.
Make batter according to package instructions. We used a Buttermilk and Honey mix from Maple Grove Farms of Vermont, but Bisquick is good too. Pour batter into the pan, and then scatter sausage bites as you would blueberries. The Boyfriend did this part, since he's the pancake maker in this house. Seriously, he's never made a less-than-perfectly round and golden brown pancake, and he does crazy-delicious things like add granola as a filling which, if you haven't tried, you should do.

Flip, and cook as you would any pancake. Keep warm in the oven while you cook the rest. 4 Sausages were plenty for the 6 large pancakes we made.

Eat with a pat of butter and generous REAL maple syrup.

Laugh all the way to the bank. Or, more likely, the couch, where you will need a nap.

Quick Fix Berries

Dear Mouse,

So, I don't have a microwave. Call me old fashioned. I've lived with them in the short term but remain unconvinced that they are necessary. However, I've come to see that they're good for a few nifty tricks.

While I was in Louisville I often made this quick, sloppy, fake-pie dessert that involved putting a bunch of fruit in a bowl with a pat of butter, some sugar and maybe a sprinkle of oatmeal and then microwaving it til it went a bit soft and warm. Some vanilla ice cream and there you have it, hold the crust.

A few days ago I went a little crazy at Trader Joe's and bought 4 POUNDS of berries because they were on sale. 2 lbs straw, 2lbs blues. I've been eating them diligently but by this morning the berries in my fridge were kind of dry and withery looking. I didn't want to eat them, but I didn't want to just throw them away and admit defeated bargain shopping.

This morning at work I noticed the office microwave. I dumped the leftover berries in a bowl and stuck them in the MW - no sugar, no nothing - on high for one minute. I was curious and didn't have much to lose.

When they came out they were plumped up, warm, and juicy, bursting on the tongue. As if they had gone to Berry Spa to be rejuvenated.


I highly recommend this technique. I also think itd be lovely over oatmeal.

Love,
The Boo

My Old Kentucky Home; in Belated Praise of Breakfast

Cinnamon scone and medium Dark Roast coffee, Java Brewing Company, 4th St,Louisville KY

"I forgot how much I love going out to hear music; how that used to be my escape. Yeah you drink a little but that's not what it's about. It's about being in the presence of a creative act that can never be duplicated. " --Ava's letter from her father,"Rock & Roll: the Reunion Tour"

Dear Mouse,

Above is the best food picture I have ever taken. I think it's the natural light. It is how I will remember Louisville, or the downtown sector anyway. Every day I walked the same straight line up 4th Street to the theatre, passing the Java Brewing Company. I began stopping there often for breakfast. It is consistently tasty, peaceful and comforting, and the staff are these beautiful, smart, competent food ladies who appreciate the Arts, remember your name, and play the local cool-music station (yes, the one I was on, maybe I'm prejudiced). They bake all their goodies in-house and use all local ingredients. (Also you can toast your own bagel and I dont know why that charmed me so much.)

To get to the theatre I would walk through a giant, flashy, unnerving complex known as "Fourth Street Live". FSL tries a bit too hard, and it's really more eerie and depressing than anything else to see the giant neon GUITAR and the aggressive lineup of chain restaurants (TGI Friday's, Subway, Wendy's) and retail stores (Footlocker, Border's) all but screaming "Revitalization!!!" .... when there is almost NO ONE around, ever. (Especially on the weekends... it's a "commuter city". ) (Yet the theatre was packed every night. Louisville got Priorities.)

My favorite perch at the counter along the windows faced a Starbucks across the street and a historic plaque commemorating, as it happens, Thomas Merton's famous epiphany about 'the reality of his vocation' (monastic life) on that exact spot-

"In Louisville, at the corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of the shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all those people, that they were mine and I theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers. {...} The whole illusion of a separate holy existence is a dream."

The day before I took this shot, I had my first-ever politically themed nightmare. It involved standing on the Merton Corner having a shouting match with a faceless opponent about the Arts budget in Obama's stimulus package. At that point the word was that it would all be sacrificed, and I don't mind telling you I was pretty down about it. I think the fact that I was working every night on a piece of living art made me feel it more strongly; the idea that many people, in many places, don't consider what we do worthwhile or real.

I would finish my petite, exquisite, warmed-up-for-me scone and savor my mellow dark roast. I would look down at my sunny yellow plate and then across the street. I'd think of the rock-hard, cold, vaguely plastic items I knew were being brown-bagged over there for twice as much money, and wonder how they could stay open. How and why anyone would settle.

On one of the last nights of the show in L'Ville, I met an audience member who'd only been to one other live theatre event in his lifetime. He joined us in the bar afterward and stood at the piano singing along as a long and joyful impromptu Beatles Songbook event took place, something I doubt anyone feels moved to do after watching "Lost".

We are all holy, we are all valuable, we all deserve homemade scones on a plate and affordable theatre tickets and live rock and roll and good stories and income and healthcare. Art is everywhere and is not "specialized" or special, superfluous or extra. It is a basic human need and action.

I've decided to stop trying to wean myself off my Breakfast Habit. Every once in a while I think I should skip it, rush it, replace it with yoga or a handful of nuts. But those few solitary moments in the morning are obviously here to stay. It's a small ritual that brings me to my own epiphanies now and then. A "separate, holy existence" is a dream, to be sure, but Sarah Leah Chase's Cranberry Vanilla Muffins are real.

I made them as soon as I got back. (The only muffin recipe that has ever yielded the right puffiness. I didn't bother with the ground vanilla bean, and strawberries work well in this recipe too.)

Love,
The Boo

P.S. When in Louisville, do NOT let anyone talk you into eating this:

The "Hot Brown", a sandwich that managed to destroy my insides and not really taste that good at the same time.