Whole Wheat Chocolate Cake with Cashew Cream and Figs

Dale got me the most gorgeous cast iron bundt pan for Christmukkah last year. We were wandering around an antique store and came upon a table of old, dirty cast iron things. Pots and pans and odds and ends and then in the middle of it all, this cast iron bundt pan. I had been on the lookout for vintage bundt pans for some time but never even considered the possibility of cast iron, so when I saw this one, I was sort of in awe. Even so, I really had no intention of buying it. I was looking for gifts for other people at the time and needed to spend my money on those other things. Dale, however, decided that I would not be leaving without that pan and snatched it up and carried it around the store the rest of the time we were there. I later realized what dedication that took, because this pan is a monster. A badass, lady monster. I love it.

So we took it home, and Dale schooled me on cast iron care. We re-seasoned it and got it all ready for caking, and I pretty immediately made a chocolate cake in it. I even took pictures and intended to share it here but just never got around to it. Actually, the first three times I baked with this pan all involved chocolate, which is sort of weird for me. Dale doesn't really like chocolate, and although I do, I tend to prefer other flavors. But this pan, this pan makes what I have decided is the perfect chocolate bundt. Fudgy, moist inside and tender yet crusty outside, which I tend to like in a chocolate bundt. So it seemed appropriate that I finally introduce this most wonderful cast iron bundt pan to the blog with a chocolate cake.

The day I made this cake, I locked myself out of my house without my phone... after I had put the cake in the oven. I had a moment of panic and then decided that it was as good a time as any to meet my neighbor. Even though I woke her up from what I imagine was the most ideal Sunday nap on the most wonderful weather day, she was nice enough to let me use her phone. As I sat on the porch on that most wonderful weather day, I could hear the timer going off on the oven. It was for some reason so torturous, and I was certain that the cake was over baking, drying, or, God forbid, burning. When Dale got home, I rushed inside and took the cake out of the oven, fully prepared to discover it ruined. To my surprise, however, it was perfect. So, my slip up baking time is included in the recipe below.

Cranberry Sauce (with vanilla bean and cardamom)

So I know the Thanksgiving meal is probably set in stone at this point, but we need to talk. This is about more than Thanksgiving. It's about cranberry sauce.

I feel bad for cranberry sauce. It's like the ugly stepchild of Thanksgiving foods, shoved into a can then plopped into a bowl at the holidays only to be neglected in favor of gravy and butter.

It's just that it doesn't have to be this way. Fresh cranberry sauce is a thing of beauty!

Part of what I love about the holidays is that everyone has self-designated specialties. Dad handles most meat cookings and sauces. Mom handles stuffing and taters. Dale's got the brussels. Over the years, mine has become dessert (surprise, surprise). And at Thanksgiving, that means pumpkin pie and pecan pie and, well, pie. But what that also means, I've decided, is homemade cranberry sauce. Mainly because I just freaking love it. On every part of the holiday meal. It gives everything the perfect tang and sweetness, which, let's be honest, is often missing from things like turkey and stuffing.

This cranberry sauce is sorta something to call home about. There's a whole dang vanilla bean in there y'all! And fresh orange juice! And a heaping spoonful of cardamom! (Cardamom is never a bad thing. Never.) This cranberry sauce is deserving of year-round praise. Although it is especially appropriate at these times what with the season and all.

Maple Berry Overnight Oats

Mornings are cooler, evenings mild yet brisk and drinkable. Summer is officially over, and fall is upon us. Sunday was living proof of this with its sixty degree temperatures, cloudy skies, and rainy afternoon. Rather perfect actually. The farmers market saw fewer tomatoes, no peaches, more squash and pumpkins, apples aplenty.

While parts of me live for the cool comfort of fall, other parts want to cling to the sweet morsels of summer.

These overnight oats give me the best of both worlds (in breakfast form anyway)--cool bursts of berries with warm flavors of maple and oats. And it's ready for grabbing right out of the fridge, making it all the more appealing for my typical rushing-around-running-late-forgetting-things-every-morning ways.

Fig Jam

I have this thing where I impulsively buy food items, usually fruit, thinking, "Oh, I'll totally have time to bake something amazing with these this week." So I make a point to not eat said food items as part of my normal daily sustenance.

Days later, said food items are in a less than delicious looking state, certainly in no shape to be eaten as is.

And a few days after that, they're shriveled to the point of no return, unable of saving even by baking.

This happens more often than I'd like to admit, especially during the school months. It happened last week, this time with figs. And this time I got two containers of them, knowing I would bake something amaaaazing with them. Thus, I refrained from munching on them straight out of the fridge or on yogurt or oats or salad. Ya know, because I have plans for them.

A few days later, the figs are beginning to look sad and super soft. Damn. I was determined to not let these figs go to waste though, so, fig jam!

After sitting and thinking with sugar and lemon and sherry, the figs cook up into mounds of thick, figgy goodness. A million times more amazing than fig newton insides. (Although I do love a fig newton every now and again.)

Champagne Grape and Sherry Cream Scones

I've realized over the past couple of years that I am sort of a girly girl. And because I thought it'd be fun, and because I for some reason felt I needed to prove it, I was going to tell you about some of the girly things that I like. Then I started to list some of those things, and I had some realizations.

1. I like a lot of the same things that children like. I have, more than once, said to a friend's child: "I have a dress just like that!" [Note to self: owning a dress that is virtually identical to a dress owned by a child is, in most cases, not a good thing.]

2. I am, in fact, not a child. Hey self, you're 25. A year away from being a full on lawyer. From having a real life job thing. From having to pay back those loans. #nonchildthings For real.

3. I probably need to grow up, just a touch. Maybe it's time for more high heels and fewer Keds, more serious outfits and fewer flowery dresses. To trade in the straight across bangs for "grown-up" hair. I'm working on it. I just, ya know, like my Keds and my flowery dresses and my bangs. And, I mean, I'm responsible. I take care of my child (i.e., kitten). I complete all my work, pay all my bills on time, etc. And I own two suits!! Plus, I enjoy bourbon and coffee, which obviously helps my case... right? Let's go with yes.

Anyway, back to girly things like fluffy scones on flowery plates.

I got some champagne grapes at the store a couple of days ago. They are lovely little things. Delightful bursts of flavor. I originally wanted to put them on top of a mound of pastry cream in the middle of a tartlet shell, but I thought I better chill out on the tartlet front.

Cherry Vanilla Pound Cake with Rosemary Glaze and Pistachios

This weekend, I said my goodbyes to this season's Pearson peaches. They were seriously gorgeous and juicy this season, all season! I ate them constantly and had to restrain myself from putting them in all my baked goods. My boyfriend and I celebrated Saturday night with a delicious peach crisp topped with vanilla ice cream.

We maaay have eaten the entire thing between the two of us. I can't say for sure.

Except that I can, and we did.

It's ok though. It was totally summer. Totally acceptable.

Luckily, summer is yielding other beautiful fruits. Figs have been bountiful at the farmer's markets, along with watermelon (ps: have you ever had a yellow watermelon? super duper crunchy awesome). And Whole Foods has been bursting at the seams with gorgeous plums and plumcots and pluots and some sort of velvet something plums. They also have sweet cherries. Look how lovely:

This summer has also brought mad heat and crazy downpours. Neither of which I'm a huge fan of. Sweat and frizz. Not attractive.

The heat has definitely put my balcony-housed herbs through the ringer. The downpours, however, have been so good to them, have made them big and vibrant and flourishing! Especially the basil and rosemary. It makes me happy.

Do you ever have those moments where you envision something that you know will prove to be pure genius? Me neither. (I'm a worried baker. Rarely certain.) Mostly, I just surprise myself after the fact.

I knew this combination would happen--sweet cherries, pistachio, rosemary--but I was a tad wary whether it would be as good in reality as it was in my head.

But let me tell you something. It's even better.

Cardamom Peach Pie Filling

Dear Georgia,

I came to you two years(-ish) ago. You truly are a delight. So lush and green. Such delicious food. Such lovely shops and farmers markets. Perfectly cold in the winter. Perfectly warm in the summer. But just recently, Georgia, you were 106 degrees. Recently, you've reminded me of a moister Texas summer. Sort of like a sauna. I don't like saunas. Please return to normal. I'll love you forever.

Love,
Natasha

PS: Thanks for the peaches. I'll always love you for that.

If you are a cardamom lover, this is hands down the best peach pie filling there is. It tastes like summer. I rolled it up in yeast dough and made some killer breakfast rolls with it. Then I made some individual crisps with it (not the prettiest desserts, but still delicious). Then I finished off the last of the jar by shamefully tilting it back and tapping it into my mouth...

Lime Curd (aka Liquid Gold)

There are certain things one should always keep on hand. Toilet paper, for example. And soap. Deodorant, also a good one.

This applies to the kitchen too. Olive oil. Eggs. Bacon (no seriously, why would you ever not keep bacon on hand?). Salt. And curd--duh.

This lime curd is known affectionately around these parts (meaning my house, meaning by me) as liquid gold. Look how silky...

This is a mini almond cake lime curd smothering situation.

I know what you're thinking: "Didn't you just post about lemon curd?" Yes, but I have toyed around and majorly improved upon that recipe. (And made it with the more seasonally appropriate lime.) So listen up people. Listen the frig up! Because this is it. This is real talk.

Perfectly tart-sweet lime flavor talk. Smooth, thick, satiny talk. Delicious talk.

Spread it on an English muffin. Bake it in an almond cake. Spoon it over peach slices. Because one way or another, you will be consuming this lime curd at an alarmingly rapid rate. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Bourbon Banana Nut Bread

See that bottom slice? It's soaking in bourbon glaze. It's going to be super-bourboned. In the best way.

Sometimes I just want something fulfilling and simple, like a fried egg or french fries or banana bread, ya know? Sometimes I also want bourbon. Who am I kidding, most times I want bourbon.

Actually, I always thought I was a gin kinda gal (see previous post... I quite clearly am), but I have learned that I also have a serious affection for bourbon. I've decided that bourbon is kind of like a dog--always makes you feel like you're awesome but can sometimes cause trouble. I like that. Plus, bourbon pairs really well with my favorite ginger beer, with my nerves, and now with my super ripe bananas.

At this point, I feel I should provide a disclaimer. I don't have to have alcoholic glaze with eeeverything I bake. It's just that, well, it's summaaatiiime. Gin and bourbon glazed desserts are totally allowed/encouraged in my book. Onward!
 
This bread is thick and moist and nutty and has lots of sexy quick bread crevices to capture that kick of bourbon glaze. It's breakfast, it's dessert, it's an after-work cocktail. These are beautiful things happening here.

Cherry Plum Clafoutis Cups

Well hello June, it's nice to see you!

I like June.

June brings good things.

Official summer things. Like sun and heat. Dresses and sandals. Iced coffee and cold treats. Farmers markets and summery fruits.

You should know something about me. I have this thing with fruit. I eat fruit for breakfast. I fulfill my snacking needs with fruit. I make fruit fit swimmingly well with lunch, perhaps in a salad or on peanut butter, and into dinner, perhaps roasted and thrown in pasta. I always want fruit in my dessert, in any form really. And have we discussed how a $3 bag of Georgia peaches causes grabbings for bourbon? It's sort of a problem. Onto cherries and plums!

Let's toss them in a shortcrust, cover them in custard, and make clafoutis. Clafoutis is a French cake-like custardy dessert, traditionally made with cherries and without a crust in a full size tart pan or pie plate. But because plums look like giant cherries sans stems and because mini versions of things bring happiness and because I just love short dough so freaking much, let's make cutie clafoutis! Let's call them clafoutis cups! Yes, let's.

Mini Lemon Scented Strawberry Rhubarb Buckles

I remember the first time my mum made rhubarb crisp when I was kid. I stood in the kitchen watching her sprinkle butter and sugar over top of the rhubarb, thinking, "Uh, I'm pretty sure she's putting celery in my dessert. Gross." Oh how wrong that child was.

My mum is one of those weirdos (albeit a beautiful one) who doesn't like strawberries (or raspberries or coconut or pineapple...), so I never had the heavenly combination of rhubarb and strawberry until much later in life. And well, the two were pretty much meant to be together.

I had been itching to bake something with rhubarb, so when I finally found some good strawberries at the farmer's market (they've been a little rusty this season), I knew something delicious was about to happen. I wanted a self-contained pastry, but I didn't want a muffin or a tart. So these mini buckles were born. They're probably not buckles in the strictest sense of the term, what with the shortbread like dough that makes up the bottom and sides. In any case, they might be some of the most delicious baked fruit desserts I've made. Truth.