When my friends Racheli and Shaya got engaged a few weeks ago, I knew a cake was in the works. And knowing that Racheli loves all things lemon made me reach for this recipe for lemon layer cake from Smitten Kitchen, that I'd been eyeing for months. And boy was that a good move.
This cake starts with Paula Deen's famous 1-2-3-4 cake, which I've used
before. The recipe makes three layers, which Deb (of Smitten Kitchen, of course) thought would be quite high, and I agreed. So instead, like her, I made 2 layers, and 6 very large cupcakes.
But of course, I couldn't possibly skimp on the lemon filling, so instead I cut those two layers in to four, and filled them all with the delicious lemon curd that I kept licking off my fingers.
Then of course, came the frosting. This recipe called for the famous 7-minute-frosting, which is basically a mixture of whipped egg whites, sugar, corn syrup and a couple other ingredients, at exactly the right temperature, for exactly the right length of time, to produce a meringue like frosting. Notice the word exactly. Not quite my thing.
Nevertheless I forged on, and armed with my handy candy (tee-hee) thermometer, I began the process. Unclear of what the final goal was even supposed to look like, I was apprehensive and worried, but it did appear to be thick and shiny as per my instructions.
And then. Disaster struck.
Bum, bum, bum. While whipping with my hand mixer (and by hand mixer, I mean stand mixer separated from the stand), I hit the thermometer (that wasn't supposed to be in there anymore) and cracked it, sending shards of glass throughout the frosting.
Now, while a stray piece of egg shell may not kill you, I sure as
hell wasn't going to serve frosting with death fragments in it. Ok, perhaps I'm being a little dramatic, but man, oh man, was this frustrating.
But, being that this wasn't just any old cake my friends, family or coworkers would manage without, I set out for 7-minute frosting part 2. Which, by the way, is more like twenty minute frosting, and forty if you have to make it twice.
Now, while I'm pretty sure the frosting turned out how it should have, I'm not so sure how I felt about it. The cake - the cake was fantastic, super lemony and moist. But the frosting - it was kind of like a big gooey meringue. Which some people like. I was kind of on the fence. Of course, I conducted a hasty survey of the consumers (is there anything you'd like more at a party then some crazed baker hovering over your shoulder, asking "did you like it? did you like it?") and responses were split. Guess it's just not for everyone.
Anyway, I decided to try a fun technique I saw during my endless hours of food network watching, by rotating the cake as I drew lines around it with a spatula - to make a cool, ribbony effect. I'm not sure anybody but me noticed.
(Yes, those are avocados.)
Anyway, by now you're probably thinking, aren't you done already? I've spent more time reading this post than it probably took you to bake the cake. (And you'd be wrong). But we're far from done, because next came the writing.
Now, I've mentioned before that I hate writing on
cakes, and it makes me super nervous. But here it was kind of necessity, so I thought I'd try a new technique and pipe the letters on to parchment paper, let them set, and then apply them to the cake. That way I wouldn't ruin the cake if my writing was, well, up to my usual standards. (Different fridge, different vegetables. And I spot an apple!)
[For my non-Hebrew-literate friends, on top is the Hebrew lettering for "Mazel Tov" which means congratulations.]
However, they just kept breaking (and being eaten), so I took a deep breath, and went for it on the cake itself...
...not bad. Perhaps I'm not off the guest list after all.
More importantly...a good time was had by all.
Of course, this was just engagement party, part 1. Just wait until you see what part 2 has in store.
Tip of the Day: Keep your candy thermometer away from whirring kitchen appliances! 'Nuff said.
Recipe: (from
Smitten Kitchen)
Cake:
1 cup (2 sticks) butter or margarine, softened
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
3 cups flour
4 tsps baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
Beat the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy.
Beat in eggs, one at a time, waiting until each is well combined.
Add the flour, baking powder and salt alternatedly with the milk, until all is mixed in.
Add in the vanilla.
Divided between 3 9-inch round pans or 2 pans and 6-8 cupcakes.
Bake on 350F for 25 to 30 minutes (about 15 for cupcakes).
Lemon Curd:
8 egg yolks
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter or margarine
zest and juice of 3 lemons
Mix all the ingredients together in a glass bowl.
Place in a double boiler - over boiling water - without letting the bowl touch the water.
Cook and stir the mixture until it begins to gel or thicken very slightly.
Remove from heat and let cool.
Cover and refrigerate to thicken.
Seven (Twenty) Minute Frosting:
5 tbsps water
1/4 tsp cream of tartar
1 1/3 cups sugar
2 room temperature eggs whites
1 tbsp light corn syrup
1 tsp vanilla
Whisk all the ingredients except the vanilla together in a stainless-steel bowl.
Set the bowl in a wide skillet with about 1 inch of simmering water in it.
Beat the mixture on low until the temperature reaches about 140F on a thermometer.
Beat on high speed for five minutes.
Remove from the skillet and add the vanilla, continuing to beat for two to three minutes to cool.
Assembly:
If you are using two layers, slice each in half. Place the bottom layer on a cake plate or tray, and spread lemon curd on top. Layer cake then curd, until the final cake layer - do not spread curd on the top.
Cover the top and sides of the cake in frosting.
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Mission accomplished! Now on to the cupcakes. Oh - you want to hear more about these? Fine.
Well I did run into a little difficulty...see the recipe called for a "tart shaper" - which is about as extraordinarily single-use as you can get (Alton Brown would not be pleased) but does the specific task of forming the dough into the shells.
Now of course with my superior intellect and talent I figured I could accomplish it quite alright on my own, with the use of my fingers and perhaps the handle of a wooden spoon. Well I did manage, but it took forever and was not that easy. Then I spent 20 minutes panicking that they would never come out of their shells, it simply wasn't possible, how would they ever be removed cleanly and then....oh. They did. And how.
Tip of the Day: Perhaps invest in a tart shaper? Or perhaps ask your blog readers for advice on a suitable alternative?
This lemon-scented pull apart coffee cake is a soft, sweet, delicately iced and fragrant...bread. Yes it contains things like lemon...cream cheese...lots of sugar....but this still remains decidedly - bread.
"Bread?!" you must be thinking. "Bread has to have yeast!" And though I am now a wise, college-graduated adult living in the real world (read: parents' basement), I don't think my diploma grants me the powers to overcome my all-consuming fears of yeast, and the many times its failed me.
But since I apparently have no capabilities for rational behavior, I used yeast. And it worked! It rose! It baked! It was more than edible! I think I've used up my daily quota of exclamation points! Also - cream cheese glaze!
Now, why this is called "lemon-scented" is something that quite escapes me. Why is it not lemon pull apart coffee cake? Is the scent of the lemon stronger than the taste? Should we start calling all things flavored a certain way "scented." Am I now going to be drinking coffee-scented beverages every morning. Just kidding, I don't drink coffee. Sorry for being so difficult. I guess spending two hours in the rain today has messed with my head.
But one thing about this - ahem - cake, that makes it especially fragrant is the step of rubbing the sugar and lemon and orange zests together before adding it with the other ingredients - it really infuses the whole loaf with the lemon 
Now, I'm not going to jump out of my seat and recommend that you make this asap. Because - it was difficult. Multiple steps, complicated processes and not such clear instructions - especially with the stacking of the layers. So, if you're a little more advanced and think you can take this on, by all means go for it. But if you're more of a kitchen novice, think twice before you try it out.
The recipe is actually quite simple - the tart dough comes together quickly, requires no rolling out, and easily presses into a pan.
The lemon curd filling - though made of only 5 ingredients - is where the tricky part comes in.
The instructions (below) state that the mixture must come to 180 degrees F. Additionally, the book wrote, "Getting to temperature can take as long as 10 minutes." Well, after over 15 minutes of whisking and temperature checking and knocking over the thermometer and calling for help and forgetting to whisk and almost knocking over the bowl, while only reaching about 160 F, I gave up. The mixture had thickened considerably and I assumed there was no hope for me to reach 180 F, and instead I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.
But this was a dessert I made for my family and then left for the weekend, so I wasn't even around to see if it held up. I left my mother with strict instructions to only reveal to our guests that I had made it if it cut into neat slices. So I arrived home to find the remnants of the tart in the fridge, neat edges all around, and I assumed success.
Either way - messy or neat - it was incredibly delicious - the lemon filling was completely addictive, and I had trouble restraining myself from eating it by the spoonful before it made it into the shell, instead contenting myself with licking the bowl clean.
Tip of the Day: Don't be afraid to recruit helpers in the kitchen when necessary (nor to kick them out when they prove unhelpful). If you must go at it alone - keep duct tape on hand to hold things in place you cannot!
And while many of you may feel about shortening the way I do about cake mixes (fine for you, but don't let it in my kitchen), they really produce a different textured cookie than butter.
Baked goods made with shortening are generally more crumbly and tender than those with butter or margarine, but shortening has none of its own flavor. It is a 100% fat as opposed to butter which is around 80%.
These cookies called for ginger, which I did not have, so I subbed in a little cinnamon. (I know, sacrilege.)
I think I wouldn't mind leaving it out entirely next time, and letting the lemon flavor of these shine through alone.
Tip of the Day: If you want all your cookies to be uniform in size and shape, form them in the bowl of a tablespoon measurement - it'll give you a good guide to get your shape.
But of course, I couldn't possibly skimp on the lemon filling, so instead I cut those two layers in to four, and filled them all with the delicious lemon curd that I kept licking off my fingers.
Bum, bum, bum. While whipping with my hand mixer (and by hand mixer, I mean stand mixer separated from the stand), I hit the thermometer (that wasn't supposed to be in there anymore) and cracked it, sending shards of glass throughout the frosting.
Now, while I'm pretty sure the frosting turned out how it should have, I'm not so sure how I felt about it. The cake - the cake was fantastic, super lemony and moist. But the frosting - it was kind of like a big gooey meringue. Which some people like. I was kind of on the fence. Of course, I conducted a hasty survey of the consumers (is there anything you'd like more at a party then some crazed baker hovering over your shoulder, asking "did you like it? did you like it?") and responses were split. Guess it's just not for everyone.
Anyway, by now you're probably thinking, aren't you done already? I've spent more time reading this post than it probably took you to bake the cake. (And you'd be wrong). But we're far from done, because next came the writing.
However, they just kept breaking (and being eaten), so I took a deep breath, and went for it on the cake itself...
...not bad. Perhaps I'm not off the guest list after all.
Of course, this was just engagement party, part 1. Just wait until you see what part 2 has in store.
Everything was going pretty well - the recipe was simple, easy to mix up, it baked up beautifully in my loaf pan, and then, I left it to cool for five minutes in the pan before removing it.
...yeah. It slipped through my fingers, crashed onto the countertop, and broke in two.
Denial is a strong force.
Lucky me.
Well, those four slices made excellent, um....snacks.
Now all this is getting in the way of the cake itself, which was wonderful. Sweet, light, and soft, this is a recipe I'll definitely try again, with different flavorings and mix ins. And a firmer grip.
If only everything in life could come out this well.
I know, I know, no microplane zester for me. But I managed. And without any scraped knuckles as well. And ten vigorous minutes of zesting later I had three naked lemons and a whole lot of lemon rind. Mission Accomplished.
After zesting comes juicing of course, and this cute little juicer worked perfectly, and even had a little barrier to catch the seeds.
Next step in the recipe called for me to put the sugar and zest in the food processor and mix together. Being entirely too lazy to bring out the food processor at that moment, instead I used my immersion blender in a bowl. Would have been easier if I used a bigger bowl, but it worked just the same. Half this mixture was used in the batter and the rest was for rolling the dough in before baking. I had way too much at the end, so you could definitely cut down on it.
Rolling the dough balls went pretty well - sometimes I find doughs too sticky to form properly into round balls - not the case here.
Finally, a whole tray done, and in the oven.
And baked! The smell was delicious - the whole kitchen was lemony fresh. And not the pledge kind.
This is another recipe that called for egg yolks, and left me with three egg whites at the end.
