So do you ever get sort of obsessed with a certain website, enchanted by how it just ‘gets you’? And you find yourself wholly relating to every post and wanting to invent a device that would allow you to sort of live inside said website? Well, that’s me and Camille Styles’ lovely online digs. Love the content–the interviews, the recipes, the decor ideas, the whole lot. It may sometimes make me feel like I’m living in the slums because it’s so fabulous, but hey, that’s the risk you take falling in love with a website, I guess.

I’ve shared a few recipes with Camille’s audience in the past, and the other day I helped her kick off her sure-to-be-swoon-worthy Valentine’s Day content with a sweet idea for an edible gift. Bounce on over to Camille’s site for more photos and the recipe, a modern, Frenchy twist on the kitschy Valentine’s Day combo of chocolate-covered cherries.

Get the recipe >>

Inspiration can be awfully hard to come by, don’t you think? I mean, maybe I’m really just speaking for myself, here–sometimes getting inspired is a serious challenge, sometimes the wheels start turning with a bit more ease with just the spark of a new idea, but overall, the well can run dry far too often. And when it does, it always seems like everyone else is living in a state of eternal Pinterest Brain, constantly ticking off what they want to write or photograph or refinish and paint or who the heck knows what and it can really start to get depressing, seeing all these perpetually creative people out there. I admire you, Constantly Inspired People, and yet I am annoyed by you. Does anybody feel me?

But I’m starting to come out the other side of my most recent creativity block, and like so many other similar moments in life, I have a fabulous fellow blogger to thank for it. Luisa Weiss, you and your new book have dusted the cobwebs off my brain and I celebrate you for that. Luisa’s blog was one of the first I ever laid eyes on, and certainly one that inspired me to start my own blog more than five (!!) years ago. I was so pumped to finally meet her in person last month during the tour for her new book, and find that she is every bit as warm, funny, charming, and fabulous as her writing.

(Also, it’s worth mentioning that she gave birth to her first child about four months ago, and was somehow glowing–glowing!–in spite of all her book tour international travelling madness with said child in tow. At four months post-partum, if I could make it to Target and back without weeping, I rewarded myself for a solid week. See, I told you Luisa was an inspiration.)

Anyway, if you’re looking for a sweet, sometimes funny, sometimes touching, totally food-centered memoir to cozy up with this fall during the ten freaking minutes you can find for yourself, I really must recommend this book–it’s a can’t-put-it-down-so-JUST-DON’T-BUG-ME-I’M-READING sort of thing. Furthering the awesome is all the great-sounding recipes that I can’t wait to try. First up, though, had to be the yeasted plum cake (or Pflaumenkuchen, if you’re feeling particularly German), because, hello, you guys know me by now. Also, I’m not so sure I’ve ever made a cake with yeast. Have I? I really don’t know. Drama, intrigue!

Adding to the decision to tackle this recipe first was the Kind of Ridiculous San Francisco Food Person Enthusiasm about finding some fancy Frog Hollow Farm plums, right around the time that this idea of a yeasted plum cake was first presented to me. And what emerged from the oven was glorious: a puffed, golden cake, crowned with spiced, sugary fruit, with the kind of fragrance that makes you pound the countertop in anticipation. If you can find the last few remaining early autumn plums rattling around at your local market, this is the way to celebrate them. But really, any kind of plums will work.

When served with a little whipped cream, this is the kind of fruit-forward, not-too-sweet cake that, while perfectly wonderful for dessert, would be even better at 3:00 p.m., with a huge coffee, when you feel your inspiration waning. It’s really something, I’m telling you.

Yeasted Plum Cake
Adapted from Luisa Weiss’s My Berlin Kitchen

The original recipe calls for fresh yeast, which I had some trouble finding, so in it’s place I used active dry. The online conversions for different yeasts vary wildly, as do the amounts used by other bloggers who have made this same recipe. In a fit of confusion after reading a few charts with different yeast equivalent amounts, I just sort of ended up throwing up my hands, abandoning my “precision matters, especially with leavening!” baker’s mentality, and went with two teaspoons active dry yeast, a little less than one envelope. No one died, the cake rose beautifully, and we ate the whole dang thing. So there you have it. 

For the dough:
1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
1/2 cup whole milk, lukewarm
2 teaspoons active dry yeast (see note)
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 large egg yolk
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1/8 teaspoon salt
Zest of 1 lemon (2-3 teaspoons)

For the plums:
1 1/4 pounds Italian prune plums or other variety, pitted and quartered (larger plums should be sliced in sixths)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon (I live for Vietnamese cinnamon)
3 tablespoons granulated sugar

Butter a 9-inch springform pan.

Place the flour in a large bowl and make a well in the center. Pour in about half the milk, then sprinkle in the yeast and a pinch of sugar. Use a fork to mix together the milk, yeast, and sugar, incorporating just a little of the flour into the mix. Cover the bowl with a tea towel and let it sit until it gets foamy, 15 minutes. Stir in the remaining milk, 3 tablespoons of the sugar, egg yolk, 3 tablespoons melted butter, salt, and lemon zest; the dough will be shaggy.

Dust a work surface lightly with flour, and turn the dough out onto it. Knead the dough for a few minutes until smooth (you may need to add a touch more flour to keep the dough from sticking to the board, but be careful not to add too much flour–you want the dough to stay soft and kind of floppy). Form the dough into a ball and place in the buttered pan. Cover the pan with the tea towel, let rise in a warm place until the dough doubles in bulk, about an hour.

Heat the oven to 350°F. Use your fingers to gently press the dough evenly across the bottom of the pan, and about 1 inch up the sides.

For the plums, starting around the outer edge of the pan, push the sliced plums into the dough at a 45° angle, making concentric circles and fitting in as many plum slices as you can. In small bowl, mix together the cinnamon and sugar and sprinkle evenly and generously over the plums (you may have just a little cinnamon-sugar mixture left over, but you do want a fairly substantial layer over the fruit). Drizzle the melted butter over the top. Let rest (uncovered) on the counter for 20 minutes. (Full disclosure: I totally skipped this step and just put the pan in the oven at this point. No negative repercussions were experienced. Perhaps with a rest, the fruit would’ve been juicier or something?)

Bake until the cake is puffed and golden brown and the plums are bubbling, about 40 minutes. Let the cake cool on a wire rack until the furit is no longer hot. Cut into wedges and serve with unsweetened (or ever-s0-slightly sweetened) freshly whipped cream.

Know this: I often fear, with increasing regularity, that I am becoming a Cathy cartoon. Which is to say that sometimes I feel I am composed entirely of foibles. The most certain of these is my dependence on coffee. I suppose I’m well within the limits of what’s considered “healthy” in terms of my coffee consumption, but nevertheless, I am starting to get concerned about what can be described as sheer primal need for my first cup of the morning. I swear I can even hear Cathy-esque thoughts happening in my head as I stumble to grind the beans and fill the pot. “GIVE ME COFFEEEEE OR GIVE ME DEATH!! ACK!!”

It doesn’t exactly make you feel youthful, these Cathy thoughts. I’ll tell you that right now. But on the plus side, always having coffee on the in morning leaves a little leftover to play with, which is super fun when you’re a mad scientist baker like myself.

(Sidebar: Isn’t it also totally an Old Lady Thing to refer to coffee as being “on”? Gah. )

So it turns out that when you combine coffee with dark brown sugar and butter and boil the whole thing down to make a caramel glaze and then spoon it over wee vanilla cakes, well…it’s almost enough to make you forget that so many of your life’s moments were probably posted on someone’s cubicle wall back in 1987.

The cake is moist and tender and full of vanilla flavor, and a dynamite sweet-and-salty glaze sets up firm on top, yielding to the tooth juuuust a bit, and adding a bit of sugary crunch as you take a bite.  The hit of coffee in the caramel glaze gives a little grown-up flavor to the whole thing. It’s kinda like an upside-down, jazzed up riff on a cupcake I’ve mentioned before, but not. Awesome, awesome stuff, here, people.

I should also add that this sort of goodie makes a perfect bake sale or take-along dessert item and it’s a great alternative to the ubiquitous cupcake–no goopy frosting that melts and looks questionable while hanging out at room temp for a while, and the crispy glaze actually seals in the cake’s moisture a bit to help keep things fresh and delicious. It’s a utilitarian glaze, really. (Hmmm. Utilitarian Glaze. I think I’ve finally figured out a name for my garage band! I mean, that is a cool band name, right? I’m cool still, aren’t I?! Ack!)

Coffee Caramel-Glazed Baby Cakes

Makes 12

Be sure to both grease and flour your cupcake tins so the cakes will come out easily. I like to use a light coating of nonstick cooking spray for the greasing part, and then sift the flour over the pan with a sieve before tapping out the excess.

If you use a standard 1/4 cup ice cream scoop to portion the batter, and level it off before depositing the batter into the wells of the tin, you should get exactly 12 cakes.

Rapping the pan on the oven rack about 10 minutes into baking will keep the cakes from doming too much, making them perfect for inverting. 

For the cakes:

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1/2 cup milk, at room temperature

For the glaze:

1/2 cup dark brown sugar
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/3 cup strong-brewed coffee
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon heavy cream
2 tablespoons confectioners’ sugar

Position a rack to the center of the oven and preheat it to 350°F. Lightly grease and flour a 12-cup muffin tin, tapping out the excess flour.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, salt, and baking soda.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat together the butter, sugar, and vanilla on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Reduce the speed to low and stir in the dry ingredients until almost smooth. Add the milk, mixing until the batter is well-blended. Fold several times by hand to ensure everything is incorporated. Divide the batter equally into the pan, about 1/4 cup in each well.

Bake for 10 minutes. Rotate the pan 180°, then rap the pan on the oven rack several times to encourage the cakes to deflate a bit. Continue baking until a toothpick comes out clean, 10-12 minutes more. Cool completely in the pan on a wire rack. Use a small, thin knife to loosen the edges of the cakes from the tin, then invert the cakes onto the rack or a clean sheet pan.

To make the glaze, combine the brown sugar, butter, coffee, and salt in a small saucepan. Over high heat, stirring often, bring the mixture to a boil. Boil for 3 minutes, or until reduced by about half. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the vanilla and cream. Allow to cool 20 minutes. Stir in the confectioners’ sugar until smooth and shiny.

Spoon the glaze over the cakes. (If the glaze starts to tighten up while you’re working, just pop the pan onto high heat for a few seconds and stir well to loosen it up a bit.) Let the glaze set at room temperature for about 30 minutes before serving.  Store any leftovers in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days.

So here’s the thing: the past several weeks have just about blown my head off my shoulders. Lots of travel, lots of appointments to keep, and many, many lists. (Lists are my savior. The hand-written kind, scribbled on scraps of paper or in my little planner book. I get endless grief from the husband about my very non-technical list-making efforts, but there you have it.) And every time I’ve written one of these lists lately, I’ve lamented the fact that none of them have had a “make ___” entry. No cookies, no cakes, no little homespun confections. Well, except for lots and lots of marshmallows.

Turns out, when you write a single subject cookbook and go places to pimp it out, everyone wants you to bring samples. Not that I’m complaining at all–I still love making those fluffy, puffy gems just as much as when the recipe testing flurry began more than a year ago. But after dozens of batches of them over the past couple weeks, I was so ready to make a dang cake the first chance I got. And the push came from a source from whom I’ve been gleaning much book promotion inspiration throughout this whole crazy cookbook process.

You know Ree Drummond, don’t you? This lady is everywhere, people. Blogger! Author! TV! Supermom! Wearer of Amazing Tunics! It’s almost maddening, the amount this woman can accomplish in a day. And her second book just came out, full of the lovely photos and ranch life anecdotes for which she is totally famous on the interwebs. She has the sort of easy, warm persona that makes everyone think they’re best friends with her, like, say, daydreaming about co-hosting a hybrid cooking/parenting/musical variety show with her or something but hey I don’t know whatever I’m just saying. Anyway.

I’m a big Ree fan in general, so my heart sort of leaped out of my chest when she sent me a copy of her latest cookbook. I dug into the recipe for her Strawberry Shortcake Cake as soon as I got more than 24 hours in my own home with an opportunity to make something other than marshmallows.

The thing was, my kitchen was kind of in a sad state after a few weeks of neglect and no real, solid grocery shopping trips. I was good on my baking pantry basics, though, so I just made a few small tweaks to make the recipe work with what I had in the house. And like many of Ree’s good old-fashioned recipes, this cake recipe with highly suitable for the riffing.

Instead of strawberries, I used a mix of frozen and fresh raspberries and blueberries. I trimmed the sugar just a wee bit here and there, added the zest of a sad lemon that was left rolling around in a refrigerator door, and opted to layer the cake Tomboy-style to make up for the fact that I was short on ingredients to make a full batch of the icing. Turns out all those tweaks worked out awesomely well, and we ate this cake happily for three days straight. There’s not enough that can be said about finally being together with your little family once again, and all putting cake in your faces together. Also, cream cheese icing instead of whipped cream in a shortcake-inspired dessert? I definitely can’t say enough about that, either. Hoooo, boy. 

Lemon-Berry Shortcake Cake

Adapted from Ree Drummond’s The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Food From My Frontier

Ree’s original recipe calls for fresh strawberries for the cake, but I used a combination of frozen raspberries and blueberries and fresh blueberries. I opted to thaw the berries, keeping most of the juice, and then sweetening them before mashing them a bit with a fork and then stirring in a few handfuls of fresh unmashed berries for a little extra texture. I’d say you could use pretty much any berry you like here, but different berries will yield different amounts of juice after macerating them–just use your best judgement as far as how much of the juice you drizzle over the cake layers so things don’t get too soggy.

Due to lack of supplies, I trimmed a stick of butter and about half the sugar from the icing, and opted to leave the layers of the cake exposed instead of icing the whole thing. I found the ratio of cake/fruit/frosting to be wonderful this way. Double the amounts of butter and sugar if you want to coat the whole thing like a layer cake like Ree does (heaven knows there’s nothing wrong with more cream cheese frosting). With less butter and sugar in the icing, however, I found that it spread easily over the fruit, but if things aren’t going smoothly or if you double the butter and sugar, then spoon the berries over both cake layers first, and freeze them for about 15 minutes to firm up the berries a bit before topping the layers with icing. 

For the cake:

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

3 tablespoons cornstarch

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 1/2 cups granulated sugar

1 tablespoon grated lemon zest

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

3 large eggs

1/2 cup sour cream, at room temperature

For the berries:

16 ounces frozen or fresh mixed berries (thawed if frozen, juices reserved)

3 tablespoons granulated sugar

For the frosting:

1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, at room temperature

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature

2 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Pinch of salt

Position a rack to the center of the oven and preheat it to 350 degrees. Spray two 8-inch round cake pans with nonstick cooking spray, line the bottoms with circles of parchment paper, and lightly spray the paper, too.

In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, cornstarch, baking soda and salt.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together the butter, sugar, lemon zest and vanilla on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Beat in the eggs one at a time. Beat in the sour cream until smooth. Reduce the speed to low and stir in the dry ingredients until the batter is well-blended. Divide the batter equally between the two pans and spread evenly. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cakes comes out clean, about 25 minutes. Let the cakes cool in the pans for about 10 minutes before inverting them onto a wire rack to cool and peeling off the parchment paper.

Place the berries in a large bowl. Add the sugar and stir well. Let sit for 15 minutes, then mash the berries a bit to release their juices.

To make the frosting, beat together all ingredients in the bowl of an electric mixer just until smooth.

To assemble the cake, place one cooled cake layer on a serving platter. Pierce the top all over with a fork. Spoon half the berry mixture and its juices over the cake. Dollop half the frosting over the berries and smooth gently and evenly. Repeat with the second cake layer, remaining berries, and the rest of the frosting.

Holy bananas, people, it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow! How did this happen? I swear I’m totally one of those old people now that walks around proclaiming that it was just Christmas! and I don’t understand this iPhone! and what on Earth is a Nicki Minaj?!

Where’s my Sanka?

Anyway, it’s here–the holiday that’s not actually a holiday, but you’d really better observe it in some manner for the ones you love, lest you feel really guilty. I’m a fan of the little things on Valentine’s Day, myself. I like a little thing of flowers, chocolates, a nice card, sweet little tokens like that. Please don’t escort me to a heart-shaped hot tub with rose petals floating in it and Sade playing in the background, or give me a giant teddy bear holding a velvet heart that contains an ugly necklace that I have to wear all the time and pretend to like it. I may not physically drop kick you, but I will be doing just that, in my mind. Keep it sweet, keep it simple.

To me, edible gifts are the perfect kind for faux holidays like this one. And even though God has nothing to do with turning February 14th into an emotional carnival for so many people, I’m sure that the good Lord would insist that if you are going to participate in some Valentine’s Day gift giving, you best include chocolate. It’s the right thing to do.

So full disclosure: When I was developing this recipe, the batter was meant to take a completely different form, sort of like the most glorious pound cake you ever did see. But despite a terrific flavor and texture, there were lots of sinking cakes, lots of sadness. In a fit of desperation and not wanting to give up was was good about the batter (tenderness, richness, an almost chewy texture, and a good amount of fat) just to create the finished product I had in my crazy head, I went with the totally adorable and way too often overlooked madeline and whomp, there it was.

You know what’s so great about madelines? They take so little time to bake–usually just about seven to eight minutes–that they offer almost instant gratification when you’re craving something sweet and cakey. Less time than cupcakes or even cookies, guys! So great. Also, the batter really couldn’t be prettier–almost like chocolate clouds when it’s all said and done.

Actually, come think of it, I am going to take back that statement about grandiose Valentine’s Day gestures for this one exception: if you can get me a chocolate cloud on which to float, THAT would really be something.

Chocolate Malt Madelines
Makes about 2 dozen cookies

I am a huge fan of adding malt powder to all kinds of baked goods–it adds a sort of richness and slight chew that’s so totally craveworthy. Here it offers a little of its toasty flavor, but it’s really more about the texture that it lends than making the whole thing taste like a milkshake.

The yield and the baking time is going to depend on the kind of madeline pan you have. I have a pan that has 12 wells, each about 3 inches long. In any case, bake the madelines just until a toothpick comes out clean–these suckers can overbake quickly. If you don’t have a madeline pan, mini muffin tins will work fine. In that case, bake for about 10 minutes. 

For the madelines:

2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup dark unsweetened cocoa powder, plus a little extra for dusting the pan
1/4 cup plain malted milk powder (like Carnation or Horlicks)
1/2 teaspoon instant espresso powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
12 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, melted and cooled, plus a little extra for greasing the pan

For finishing the madelines:

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate (60 to 70% cacao), chopped
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup crushed malted milk balls

Position an oven rack to the center of the oven and preheat it to 425 degrees. Using a pastry brush, lightly brush each well of a madeline pan with melted butter, being sure to get into all the little ridges. Dust the pan with cocoa powder and tap out the excess.

Into a medium bowl, sift together the flour, cocoa powder, malted milk powder, espresso powder, and salt.

In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together the eggs, sugar, and vanilla on high speed until fluffy, pale in color, and almost tripled in volume, about 5 minutes.

In three batches, gently sift the dry ingredients over the egg mixture and fold gently to blend well. Place the melted butter in the bowl that housed the dry ingredients. Scoop about a quarter of the batter into the melted butter, and whisk until smooth. Slowly pour the buttered batter in a spiral pattern into the mixer bowl with the remaining chocolate batter (the idea is to keep the chocolate batter light and avoid deflating it by scraping the heavier buttered batter in all at once). Fold gently until the batter is well blended, and no oily streaks of butter remain.

Load the batter into a piping bag fitted with a large round tip (or a large ziptop bag with a corner snipped off). Fill the wells of the madeline tin about three-quarters full. Bake until the tops of the madelines spring back when ligthly touched a toothpick just comes out clean, 7 to 8 minutes. Immediately turn the madelines out onto a wire rack to cool completely, using a small, thin spatula or knife to help loosed them if need be. Let the tin cool before filling the wells with the remaining batter.

In a heatproof bowl, combine the chopped chocolate and heavy cream. Melt them together over a double boiler or in the microwave with 30 second bursts of high power, stirring well after each interval, until the ganache is smooth. Stir often over a 10 to 15 minute period to help thicken the ganache–enough so that it’s cool, but can still be spooned over the madelines. Finish the madelines with a sprinkling of chopped malted milk balls. Let the ganache set a bit at room temperature before serving, about 1 hour.

Now, I’m not going to pretend like you all come to this site wondering what’s going on with my diet and exercise regimen. No, I’m well aware that most people come here looking for cookies. Or cupcakes. Or (YAY!) candy. I don’t blame you. These things make life worth living. But recently I threw a wrench in the whole thing, what with all the posts on juice cleanses and oatmeal-y things for breakfast. And after all that overhauling, I’ve found that maybe dairy and I don’t have the legendary love affair going that I once thought we had. So I’ve been watching the dairy intake. It’s become like a dang commune around here! Outrageous! This must be stopped.

But guess what? It turns out I’ve totally got wi-fi here in my hemp tent, and I have to tell you about these cupcakes I made the other day–moist, sweet, totally scrumptious cupcakes with a cloud of creamy, dreamy frosting. Decidedly the sort of thing that you probably, actually came here for.

EXCEPT THEY’RE VEGAN. Ha! Sucker.

But really, truly, guys–these are super good. Vegan or not, I don’t care as long as something tastes great. And this particular cupcake is all the things you want in a wee frosted cake. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a cake quite as moist, tender and positively full of citrus flavor as this one. I swear that’s not the incense talking.

Inspiration for these little gems came from a little family getaway we embarked on last weekend. It was the best kind of weekend, an impromptu trip, with no real forethought or planning, just a general need to get outta town, just the three of us. We’re in a sweet spot with Little C now, where we can kind of just pick up and go: no diapers, no extra gear, just an arsenal of snacks, and really, that’s an essential part of a weekend trip no matter what age you are, I think. We knew we wanted to head down to Monterey, like we did more than a year (!!) ago, and visit the massive aquarium there, but other than that, no real plan. That is, until, we decided to make a pit stop in Santa Cruz on the way home, and the Twitterverse guided me to a little cupcake shop downtown called Buttercup Cakes Farm House Frostings. After that, I, for one, definitely had a plan.

I’m sorry for the lack of photos of our little trip, but the idea was to sort of unplug so I wasn’t doing a lot of picture taking over the weekend. But believe me when I say that the bake shop was the kind that many people dream of opening one day: tiny, quaint, Anthropologie-esque in feel. And the flavors! So innovative. Little C chose a Raspberry-Rose confection (the pink frosting made her choice a no-brainer), which I thought she might not like because of the floral flavor, but this was a genius use of rosewater, just enough to make the whole thing taste PINK, not remind you of some old lady’s perfume. The husband chose a double chocolate number with an actual chocolate truffle tucked in the center–wowza. I was inexplicably drawn to a Vegan Blood Orange Cupcake, and housed the whole delicious thing so fast that I had to go back into the shop just to simply say to the owner “Oh Mah Gah. So. Good. Really.” It was really something.

I could only resist the pull the create my own version of this cupcake for two days, and really wish it hadn’t even taken that long. This is a recipe I’ll make again and again, for real. I’m not sure I’ve ever actually made a vegan cupcake before, but now I totally get the hype. With vegetable oil and a significant amount of liquid in the mix, the cake turns out unbeatably moist, almost like a lighter version of a great quickbread. And seeing as I’m kind of obsessed with blood oranges and wait all year for the good ones to roll into markets, I’m pret-ty pleased about a recipe so full of their complex, kinda-fruity-kinda-floral essence and brilliant color (no food coloring in the frosting here, people!!). And, I mean, egg and dairy-free to boot? I’m not saying I’m going to stay in this hemp tent forever, guys, I’m just saying there’s a lot of seriously good food in here.

Vegan Blood Orange Cupcakes

Makes 18 frosted cupcakes

You can absolutely try regular oranges here if you can’t find blood oranges, but be aware that everything will probably turn out a little sweeter, and the frosting won’t have the same pink hue that you get with intensely colored blood orange juice. Also, I’d cut the zest in the batter down to 1 tablespoon–blood orange zest is a little less potent than regular orange zest, in my opinion. You’ll need about 5-6 large blood oranges to get enough juice for the cakes and frosting.

I experimented with a blend of whole wheat pastry flour and all-purpose here and loved the results. But you can use all of just one of the flours if you prefer. Make sure you get whole wheat pastry flour, and not regular whole wheat flour. 

 For the cakes:

1 cup granulated sugar

1 1/2 tablespoons grated blood orange zest

3/4 cup whole wheat pastry flour

3/4 cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 cups freshly squeezed blood orange juice

1/3 cup vegetable or canola oil

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

For the frosting:

1/2 cup (1 stick) non-dairy butter substitute (I use Earth Balance sticks)

3 cups confectioners’ sugar, sifted

1/4 cup freshly squeezed blood orange juice

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Position oven racks to the upper and lower thirds of the oven and preheat it to 350 degrees. Line 18 wells of 2 12-cup muffin tins with paper liners.

Place the sugar in a large bowl with the zest. Use your fingertips to massage the zest into the sugar until it’s moist and fragrant. Whisk in the flours, baking soda and salt.

In another bowl, whisk together the orange juice, oil, lemon juice and vanilla extract. Pour the liquid ingredients into the dry and whisk until smooth–the batter will be quite thin. Divide the batter among the muffin tins (pouring the batter from a large spouted measuring cups helps), filling each well no more than three-quarters full. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cakes comes out clean and the cakes spring back when lightly touched, 25 to 30 minutes. Rotate the tins from top to bottom and front to back halfway through baking. Cool completely on a wire rack.

To make the frosting, place the butter substitute in a heatproof container. Microwave on high power until the stick is about half melted. Stir until the butter substitute is smooth and about the consistency of mayonnaise. Transfer to the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Add the confectioners’ sugar. Beat on low speed just until the mixture begins to come together. Slowly add the blood orange juice and the vanilla. Raise the speed to medium-high and beat until the frosting is light, smooth and creamy, about 2 minutes (it will look curdled and lumpy at first, but will smooth out as it’s mixed). Adjust the consistency as needed by adding more confectioners’ sugar or orange juice. Frost the cooled cupcakes generously. These are great made a day ahead and stored in a tightly covered container at cool room temperature–the flavor only gets better the next day.

There are really only three things you need to know about this Bananas Foster Coffee Cake:

1. It contains the holy trinity of The Baking B’s*–Bananas, Butter and Booze.

2. If you put the word “coffee” in front of “cake”, then said cake becomes perfectly acceptable for breakfast.

3. Taking into consideration the aforementioned items, you now have a totally legit reason to have liquor first thing in the morning. You’re welcome.

I sort of live for foods that have magical, beautifully-balanced layers of flavor, don’t you? Like this cake, for example. It’s not like some crazy old lady’s rum cake. It’s not overtly sweet, fruity or boozy. Everything here heightens the flavor of another ingredient: the dark rum makes the bananas taste even more like bananas, the dark brown sugar makes the rum taste rummier. (The schnozberries taste like schnozberries!!)

When I was getting everything together for this recipe, determined to get the idea out of my head and into the oven, I couldn’t help but wonder what the heck took me so long. I mean, hello–it’s basically Bananas Foster, but in cake form. It all starts out with the sort of luscious, rummy caramel you’d expect from the classic ice cream dessert, with big hunks of banana thrown in, sauteed until tender. If you can get past this step and not put the whole skillet of sticky, glistening goodness in your face, then you can add a smattering of dry ingredients and a couple eggs and turn it into cake. Seriously.

And there’s streusel involved, people! Glorious, buttery, sugary, pebbly streusel that adds another dimension of crisp, caramelized heaven to the whole thing. I mean, what have I been doing with my life up until this point? It’s that level of delicious, guys–the kind of thing that leads you to ask yourself major, Oprah-esque life questions on a Sunday. But things won’t get too heavy, don’t worry. There’s booze involved, remember?

Bananas Foster Coffee Cake

For this recipe, you want bananas that are definitely ripe, but still firm. Lightly speckled is good, but not the super dark, overripe sort you might use for banana bread–they’ll turn to complete mush in the caramel. 


Be sure to use dark brown sugar and dark rum here for maximum flavor. I love Myers’ dark rum. It’s the most dreamy thing on the planet. 


Although totally delicious the first day, the flavor of this cake really blossoms the day after baking. 

Serves 8 to 10

For the cake:

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
6 tablespoons dark rum
3 ripe bananas, sliced into 1 1/2-inch chunks (about 2 cups of banana pieces)
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
2 cups cake flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt

For the streusel:

7 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/3 cup granulated sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

Position a rack to the center of the oven and preheat it to 350 degrees. Spray an 8-by-8-inch baking pan  with nonstick cooking spray,

In a large skillet, melt 3 tablespoons of the butter over medium-high heat. Add the dark brown sugar and stir to combine. Add the rum and cook for 1 to 2 minutes, stirring often, until slightly thickened. Add the banana chunks and cook for 3 minutes more, gently stirring and coating the bananas with the caramel as they cook. When the bananas are very tender, mash a few times with a potato masher just to break down the banana into bits–don’t overmash them into a paste. Scrape the caramelized banana mixture into a medium heatproof bowl. Stir in the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter until melted. Stir in the vanilla. Let the mixture cool until its just warm to the touch. Quickly whisk in the eggs.

Sift the cake flour, baking powder and salt together into a large bowl. Add the wet ingredients to the dry and fold just until combined. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan.

To make the streusel, combine the flour, sugar and butter in a small bowl. Use your fingertips or a fork to blend the ingredients into a pebbly mixture (be careful not to overwork the butter if you’re using your fingers, as to not melt the butter with the heat of your hands). Sprinkle the streusel evenly over the batter.

Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Cool completely in the pan on a wire rack before cutting and serving.

*I totally made this up. I don’t think “The Baking B’s” is even a thing.

Hahaha! Ohh. You know what I think is just hysterical about parenting? All of the clichés are true. Examples: You discover you can love with an intensity you never thought possible. You find that there lives inside you a fierce, irrationally angry Mama Bear that emerges whenever anyone comes remotely close to messing with your cub. Bodily fluids of all sorts simply won’t be as off-putting as they once were. And then there’s the most sobering realization of them all: Girlfriend, once a small person comes out of you, your body really is never going to be quite the same again. (Foxy bazillionaire celebrity mothers with health and fitness entourages notwithstanding.)

Now. Maybe I could get closer to my pre-baby self if I didn’t make a habit out of making things like this mind-blowing Triple Berry Danish Cheesecake, but I still am completely in love with this recipe anyway. Funnily enough, this cheesecake first came to me a few years back when I was indeed in pre-baby shape, working the counter at a Santa Monica fitness studio where I worked out as a hobby (!!) and got to have adult conversations all day long, sometimes even with those aforementioned foxy bazillionaire celebrity mothers. Pssh. What’s fun about that? Nothing! Right? Lie to me.

If you are one of the five people who read this blog in the early days of Piece of Cake, then maybe you might remember this jazzy little number of a cheesecake, which I first created with apples instead of berries. The recipe was given to me by a Danish friend of mine when I told her I was a baking fiend (quite an eyebrow-raise-inducing statement at a Santa Monica fitness studio, let me tell you). I’m sure there’s some sort of great, Saveur-esque backstory about what makes this cheesecake decidedly Danish, but for me, the thing that immediately comes to mind is that this cake is totally unlike any cheesecake I’ve ever had in my life, and is instead reminiscent of the best part those lovely Danish pastries served at bakeries all over the place.

You know the center of a really great cheese Danish, where it’s at once creamy and sweet and contrasted by that thin layer of buttery cakey-ness underneath? Yeah, it’s like a whoooole cake of that. Rather than your typical graham cracker crust, this drool-inducing dessert starts with a parbaked butter cake, which is covered in fruit and then topped with a cheesecake batter. It’s lemon-scented, bursting with summer berries and altogether transcendent. Like, take-you-to-another-planet-where-you’ll-briefly-forget-about-your-pre-baby-backside-level transcendent.

Triple Berry Danish Cheesecake

For the cake layer:

3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
7 tablespoons milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

For the berry cream cheese layer:

1 8-ounce package cream cheese, at room temperature
2 teaspoons lemon zest

1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature
2 teaspoons cornstarch

Position a rack to the center of the oven and preheat it 350 degrees. Lightly grease an 8-inch springform pan with cooking spray or butter.

Begin by making the cake layer: Into a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat together the butter and sugar on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Beat in the egg until well-blended. Reduce the speed the low and stir in the dry ingredients. Stir in the milk and vanilla. Finish folding the batter by hand and spread into the prepared pan. Bake until the edges of the cake are just set, about 15 minutes (the center will still very soft and nowhere near done–we’re just parbaking the cake layer here). Cool for about 5 minutes.

While the cake layer is baking, make the cheesecake layer. In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the cream cheese together with the lemon zest and vanilla on medium-high speed until smooth, about 1 minute. Add 1/2 cup sugar and beat until lightly and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Beat in the eggs one at a time until well-blended. Give the batter a good stirring by hand to ensure that everything is incorporated.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the remaining tablespoon of sugar and the cornstarch. Add the berries and toss gently to combine. Sprinkle the berries evenly over the parbaked cake layer. Pour the cheesecake batter over the top. Bake until the cake is puffed and lightly golden, and the center is set, 45-50 minutes. Let cool completely, at least 2 hours before serving. Serve chilled or at room temperature with a pretty dusting of confectioners’ sugar.

So hey, did I ever tell you about the time I met Betty White? I’m so serious! It was several years ago, before her glorious resurgence of late. I’d watched The Golden Girls obsessively for many years (during its first run, as a young girl unnaturally drawn to observing the lives of aging Miami women, and then again in reruns as part of a post-lunch relaxation ritual during college), so as you might imagine, the meeting was one of the more mind-blowing moments of my years spent in Los Angeles.

The best part about meeting Betty White was that she was exactly as you’d hope Betty White would be—vibrant, chatty, funny, an incredible lively sparkle in her eye—even though I was an absolute stranger to her. Even better, she was even more charming than I’d imagined she’d be in person. It was very hard not to hug her. I’ve had the chance to meet a bunch of fancy, high-profile people over the years that I’d admired for one reason or another, and there’s nothing grosser than meeting someone you’re a fan of and finding out they actually suck. Well, not this time—I left that brief meeting an even bigger Betty fan than before, and was so impressed by her awesomeness that I’m still talking about it years later, even finding a roundabout way to connect it to Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting. Just hang on a sec—I’ll get there.

So several months back, after the release of their latest book Baked Explorations, I got to meet the positively darling baking superduo of Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito at a book signing event here in San Francisco. And I’d say they would be manically pleased to know that meeting them conjured up Betty White-meeting-level feelings. They are seriously hilarious and adorable and every bit as entertaining and warm-hearted as their cookbooks. Thank God.

I mean, after my multiple gushings about the guys and their terrific recipes, I’d probably have required therapy had they been unenjoyable in person. But within five minutes of their presentation at their signing at Omnivore Books, not only had they cracked the whole place up with their Odd Couple-esque banter, but they also dropped mad knowledge, such as the fact that Cher, Liberace and Vincent Price all have published cookbooks at some point. Who knew? The Baked boys, that’s who. Quirk and humor are as important to their books and their business as bold flavors and dreamy textures and I totally love them for it.

Since falling in love with those Baked boys all over again, I’ve read their latest cookbook cover to cover and bookmarked it like mad within days of receiving it, but until recently, I’d had yet to actually bake anything from it. I know. As it turns out, being up to your eyeballs in sugar for your own little cookbook will throw such kinks in your best-laid baking plans. But on a recent foggy Sunday, I was so drawn to this simple, soulful cake (no electric mixer required!), I had to make it happen. Because, hello—chocolate chips and cream cheese frosting, people.

The great thing about this cake is how fantastically versatile it is. Its earthy oat flavor and nubbly crumb plays so fantastically with the chocolate bits and sweet cream cheese frosting, it’s perfect for a weekend/eat-straight-from-the counter-by-the-hunk sort of situation. But it would be lovely in elegant slices for company (dusted prettily with a smidge of cocoa powder as you see here) or even made into a layer cake for a birthday or somesuch. Like a mimosa-soaked brunch with Betty White and the Baked boys in attendance, you really can’t go wrong here. And with that last sentence, I think I’ve created my new mental Happy Place.

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting
Adapted from Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito’s Baked Explorations: Classic American Desserts Reinvented

This recipe includes the genius step of tossing the chocolate chips in a bit of liquor and then tossing them in a bit of flour. It gives a touch of great flavor to the cake and also keeps the chips from all sinking to the bottom of the cake. They recommend bourbon or Scotch, but I’m thinking Frangelico, dark rum, Kahlua or Grand Marnier would also be awesome. If I didn’t have any booze on hand (unlikely), I’d probably just use a touch of water to moisten the chips and get the flour to adhere.

For the cake:

8 ounces semisweet chocolate chips
1/2 teaspoon bourbon, Scotch or other complimentary liquor (see note)
1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, divided
1 cup rolled oats (not steel cut or quick-cooking)
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 1/4 cups boiling water
2 large eggs
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 1/4 cups firmly packed light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

For the cream cheese frosting:

5 tablespoons unsalted butter, at cool room temperature
5 1/2 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
2 cups confectioners’ sugar, sifted
3/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Position a rack to the center of the oven and preheat it to 375 degrees. Grease a 9×13-inch baking pan with nonstick cooking spray or butter.

In a small bowl, toss the chocolate chips with the liquor, then with 2 tablespoons of flour to evenly coat the chips. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, place the oats and butter. Pour the boiling water over the top. Allow to sit for about 30 seconds, then stir until the butter has melted. Set aside to soak for 30 minutes.

Whisk together the eggs, sugar, salt, baking soda, baking powder, and cinnamon in a large bowl. Stir in the cooled oatmeal until well-combined. Fold in the remaining flour, followed by the the chocolate chips. Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake until a toohtpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 40 minutes. Cool completely in the pan on a wire rack, about 1 hour.

To make the frosting, beat together the butter and cream cheese until light and fluffy. Beat in the confectioners’ sugar and vanilla just until combined. Spread on the cooled cake. Chill the cake for about 15 minutes, just to set the frosting before serving.

I debated about telling you about this, but I’m just gonna put it all out there, people. The Piece of Cake kitchen (which is to say ME) has been on a diet. Like, an honest-to-God, excruciatingly boring, buckets of salad, no-sugar diet. Today is Day 9. Perhaps you can guess by my counting of the days that said diet has not been fun. You would be correct in guessing that. Congratulations. Take yourself out for the ice cream that I can’t have.

So I’m going hard core just for the next couple weeks, all protein and vegetables and sparkling water like a psycho Bravo Network housewife. The goal is to reduce sugar cravings (or at least get them somewhere near a non-epidemic level) and not bleed corn syrup when I cut myself shaving. After that, I’ll gradually start getting back to healthy levels of dessert consumption (read: maybe not, oh, say, five flippin’ times per day). Truthfully, despite being waaay out of my comfort zone, I am feeling a whole lot better already. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to start throwing brownies made with black beans and Splenda or some other crazy talk at you. Evidence: a perfectly lovely Strawberry Buttermilk Upside-Down Cake. Or, as I like to call it, The Last Dessert before all this no-sugar diet nonsense started.

For your own sense of well-being, I really, really hope strawberries are as glorious where you are as they are in California right now. And if you are in California, can I get a HECK YEAH? Glittering cartons of berries are spilling over in the supermarkets right now, and if you head out to some of the smaller towns, you’ll find tons of the kind of charming little ramshackle roadside fruit stands that food magazine dreams are made of. The berries taste like candy, they smell like flowers, they are absolute perfection straight up on their own.

But because I am who I am (never mind that I’m snacking on bell pepper strips, for the love of God), I feel like the thing Mother Nature intended for us to do with a pile of perfect in-season strawberries is to bake them into a tender buttermilk cake. Add a sweet-salty caramel to the mix to make those berries all glossy and jammy and OH MY GOD I WOULD KILL SOMEONE FOR A PIECE OF THIS CAKE RIGHT NOW.

Deep breath. This too, shall pass. Now go bake this cake and eat the whole thing and don’t tell me about it.

Strawberry Buttermilk Upside-Down Cake

Although this cake will keep nicely in a cake dome for a few days at room temperature, it’s best eaten the day it’s made. Serve with some unsweetened whipped cream and die of summer happiness.

Serves 8