Cakes and Vegetables 5: The Carrots Strike Back

A while back, my family attended a get-together with friends, and my parents asked me to put together a carrot cake for the event.  This time, I used a combination of my mother's food processor and actual stainless steel grater to prepare the carrots, which was a great learning experience.

It turns out that the food processor did not grate when set to "grate," and by the time all the carrot pieces were similar in size, there was only orange mush instead of gratings.  After 1.5 hours spent producing two cups of mashed carrots, the food processor was clearly not a significant improvement over the small plastic grater at my apartment.

On the other hand, the full-sized stainless steel grater worked wonders.  It quickly turned solid carrot into nice gratings in a uniform manner.  This, compared to the little plastic grater at my place, appeared to work miracles.  With extra gratings to spare, I decorated the top with orange "sprinkles" at my mother's suggestion.  These gratings, it turns out, played a key role in appealing to my audience.  Read on to find out why I believe so.

Interesting tidbit: many Chinese people of my parents' generation are practically allergic to added sugar.  That is to say, they probably consume in one week the amount of added sugar that is contained in the average 3-course American meal plus beverage, and only because they avoid added sugar at all cost.  Given these unfounded assumptions, the average Chinese adult would consume 21 times less sugar than his/her American counterpart.

So why is that important in a discussion about carrot cake?  Because I was at an event with many Chinese adults of my parents' generation, and that little tidbit was the one hurdle that would deter them from stuffing their face with risen sugar and butter.  The cool thing was that my mother helped me overcome that hurdle by suggesting I sprinkle extra carrot gratings on top of the buttercream frosting.  My hypothesis on the psychological effect of this action: the cake appeared less likely to induce a heart attack, and a little more likely to provide a great source of beta-carotene straight out of the Earth.

The cake, it turns out, was a huge success, and later, I made the same cake to bring into the office.

Return to Healthy Lunches!

I have been eating out for lunch quite a bit recently, so I decided to pack for tomorrow!  Lunch includes blanched snow pea leaves and baked beef pie.  The beef pie is more of a casserole but I feel bad calling it that considering...well, it is not what an American or European would call a casserole.  Still, it should be good with grated carrots, diced onions, minced green onions, and minced garlic.  Oh yeah, and a little bit of soy sauce, salt, sesame oil, sugar, and fish sauce in order of amount added.  The sugar was probably unnecessary as the carrots probably made the pie more sweet than expected.

It is nothing pretty, but it should taste great.  Here's to healthy lunches again!  Oh, and I kind of feel like a food snob for using the word "blanched," but hey, that's what I did to the snow pea leaves.

Orange-glazed Strawberry Cheesecake

Visiting my family for the holidays, I was asked a week ago to find a tasty use for the the excess amount of strawberries and oranges which my mother had recently acquired.  Not spending too much time on creative thought, I decided to fall back on what I know and love best, with a twist.  This time, I would put an actual orange into a cheesecake.

Having never baked with fresh oranges as ingredients, the only question on my mind was: how exactly...?  So I did a little research into the parts of oranges that typically make their way into prepared foods.  I learned about orange zest and how orange juice can be used without irrevocably watering down a mixture.  After some time on the Internet, I actually found just the idea I needed.  So with a sharp paring knife and a hand-juicer, I got started extracting the useful bits from an orange.  Zesting, it turns out, was tedious and fun at the same time, not like grating carrots (which was only tedious and no fun).

With this creation, I was actually lucky to have opportunities to put my product to the test with three groups of taste-testers in nearly back-to-back evenings.  So, on vacation and with time to spare, I decided to reach for perfection.  I think I got somewhat close for a journeyman baker.  Read on about my three iterations of strawberry orange cheesecake, with shortbread crust, and topped with orange glaze!

First cake: I thought it looked like a Rorschach inkblot test.  I was told by my first set of taste-testers, friends from high school, that it looked like bacon.

Second cake: Fixing the errors from the first cake, I put the strawberry puree in the center of the cake and cut down on sugar in the orange glaze. (No picture)

Third and final cake: Stepping things up to the next level, I asked my mother for help decorating the top of the cake with fresh cut strawberries in addition to using strawberry puree in the center.  Having used less than half the orange glaze for the previous cakes, I added all of the glaze to this cake by carefully brushing it over the surface, covering the strawberries, and letting it seep into each nook and cranny.

Cakes and Vegetables 3: Revenge of the Zucchinis

A year ago, my long-time fascination with vegetables and fruits directly incorporated into bread culminated in making my first banana bread.  Then last month, I spent an hour grating three cups worth of carrots to be baked into carrot cake.  Grating the carrots was so time-consuming, I swore to myself I would not grate vegetables for any baked goods in the near future.

Fast forward a month, and it looks like I am at it again.  At a friend's recommendation, I tried making chocolate zucchini bread.  To be more exact, it was a double chocolate spiced zucchini bread.  Honestly, I had my reservations because I am somewhat "choosy" when it comes to chocolate.  I typically like chocolate in only three forms: bars, candies, and melted (e.g. fudge on a sundae or chocolate chip cookies straight from the oven).  So you can probably imagine that I am not partial to certain American classics like chocolate ice cream or chocolate cake or chocolate milk (the first two I will tolerate, the last one I avoid at all costs).

But man oh man, this bread blew my reservations out the door (even if it does not look extremely appetizing). It was moist with firm texture, and also pleasing to bite.  The chocolate incorporated into the bread was actually a welcome addition taste-wise, possibly because the flavor was more conservative than expected.  I was worried that the extra chocolate chips would be overpowering, but instead they added gooey splotches to parts of the bread, making it that much more pleasing to chew. Since I had mint dark chocolate chips to get rid of, I used those for this bread. I am never a fan of mint chocolate (bought it for an experiment a while back), but I must say it worked out.

When I brought some slices into the office, one coworker with a particularly good intuition for food suggested I try a fruity parsnip bread, i.e. apple ginger parsnip bread or peach ginger parsnip bread.  Parsnips seem a little weird to me, but I am told they are basically a white carrot.  Given my borderline obsession with vegetables in bread, it looks like the path leading to my next baked creation has been laid out before me.

I adapted my chocolate zucchini bread from this recipe at Allrecipes.com.

Yesterday was National Cheesecake Day

Did you know that yesterday, July 30th, was National Cheesecake Day?  I did not.  Or maybe I forgot because there are so many themed observances (both important and trivial) in the United States.  Still, staying true to the theme, I whipped up one of my favorite baked goods: Green Tea Cheesecake.  I used a generous amount of matcha (抹茶) for the green tea flavoring, a graham cracker crust, and Neufchâtel for the cheese.  Cream cheese works great, but this time I felt like blending in a touch of "old world" French aristocracy.  Not to be confused with "old school," in which case I would have to follow how the Greeks made cheesecake.  If anyone cares to argue that cheesecake was not eaten by the Ancien Régime nobility: forget it. You would be arguing against my M.S. in European food history.

Now, I will be the first to admit that my bias toward food often consciously and unconsciously slants in favor of Asian flavors, and that slant is more of a steep mountain slope in some cases.  Clearly this cheesecake is no exception.  Something about matcha, described as it is to be "bitter" by some, pairs well with light, creamy, and sweet desserts.  I can only imagine (and it would make sense) that the first person who discovered this pairing is likely swimming in a sea of green of a different sort.

Of course, not everybody has the palate for the combination of "a hot beverage" and cheesecake.  When I discussed this dessert with my office-mate, a self-proclaimed man of desserts, he instinctively and lightheartedly blurted out "That sounds absolutely disgusting."  Then he tempered his remark by saying he would be willing to taste a sliver for the experience.  My response:

What I find intellectually fascinating about cheesecake is that it has survived and evolved for so many thousands of years when 70% of the world today is estimated to be lactose intolerant.  That figure jumps up to 90% in some Asian and African populations.  So I cannot thank my parents enough for passing on the gene that allows me to enjoy cheesecake without a requisite "bathroom blowout."  Either way, when I present a few slices to the office today, it should be interesting to observe the varying degrees of responses ranging from disgusted to enthusiastic.

----- Update 2:07 PM -----

Challenge completed.  After tasting a small bite, my office-mate remarked "Well played" and proceeded to devour the rest of the slice.  Rock on, Success Kid.  Rock on.

Cakes and Vegetables: The Carrot Cake Chronicles

When it comes to baked goods, few have piqued my curiosity more than the concept of cooking a fruit or vegetable directly into bread (or cake).  To my limited conceptual abilities, it sounds like a terrible idea, and my intuition could not be more wrong!  Yesterday, I decided to invest in making my own carrot cake from scratch.  Invest is the appropriate word to use here because I just put everything I had into that cake.  Three whole cups of grated carrots is a serious commitment, so let this cake stand as proof that Jake does not shy away from commitment.

Anyway, no self-respecting carrot cake would be complete without its cream cheese buttercream frosting.  Being my first time making buttercream frosting, I learned a valuable lesson: confectioners' sugar is the worst baking ingredient ever invented.  It is like sand on a beach.  It takes too much effort to handle artistically, and it gets everywhere--I repeat: everywhere.

In the end, it was worth every measure of effort I poured into it.  The bread was aromatic and moist with a strong complement of carrot flavor and subtle hint of cinnamon.  The texture and consistency were soft, thick, and assertive; thus, making the cake pleasant to bite into.  Paired with the delicate sweetness of the buttercream, the carrot cake truly satisfies the taste buds.  In trying to do descriptive justice to the cake, sounding like a snob is pretty much unavoidable, but trust me when I tell you that it turned out really well!