The Mystical and Magical Mazurka: The Story of a Seattle Baked Good Icon

Note: Here's a post from many years ago, near the start of CakeSpy, that I really thought was worth revisiting. Enjoy!

(Mazurka pictured made by ace pastry chef Chris Jarchow)

Have you ever stopped to wonder why certain baked goods are popular in your area? 

For me, the discovery of a popular Seattle area treat, the fruit-and-oat bar, which is at times known by various names, started with this book:

The Baker's Apprentice

This is a book by Judith Ryan Hendricks, which I picked up at random at the library last year. Turns out, the novel, which is about a thirty-something woman who is finding herself as a breadmaker after a nasty divorce (which is actually the sequel to the writer's previous novel, Bread Alone) is set in Seattle, and fictional as it may be, the "Queen Street Bakery" featured in the book is inspired by an actual bakery (the McGraw Street Bakery--now Macrina Bakery). But even more than this fact, what caught our attention was one pastry in particular in the book, which turns out to be real as well: the Mazurka Bar.

In the book, the baked good is described as:

"locally world famous--a killer combination of thin, flaky crust, then your choice of lemon, chocolat-espresso, apple-raisin, or raspberry filling, and on the top the crumble layer with its habit-forming, sandy crunch".

Reading this, we got a shiver of excitement. We had noticed the proliferation of this fruit-and-oat cookie bar format in the Seattle area--though known by several different names, nearly every coffee shop or bakery in the area has some variation (several are pictured throughout this writeup). Could this mysterious Mazurka hold the key to this particular bar cookie's popularity in Seattle? 

An obsession was born.

I started out by emailing the writer Judith herself, who pointed us in the right direction in our Mazurka hunt, which eventually led us to the Mazurka Maven herself--Jessica Reisman, former owner of the McGraw Street Bakery and the woman who introduced the Mazurka to Seattle. Though Jessica now lives in Beacon, NY (where she owns a different cafe, the charming-looking Homespun Foods), she was more than happy to share the story of the mysterious bar with us:

The path to Mazurka monopoly began in 1983, when Jessica Reisman moved to back to Seattle (she had previously lived in the city in the 70's, but had moved around a bit in between) and helped start up Rainbow Foods, a business which has evolved but still exists on Capitol Hill. At the same time, she began making the bars, which were based on Maida Heatter's recipe for Polish Wedding Cakes (in Heatter's description in her cookbook, she notes that they are also sometimes known as Mazurkas). At first the operation was skirting the line of legality--she was making them in her own apartment, and selling them from the back of her car at various festivals and street fairs. Popularity caught on though, and soon enough she was baking from a commercial space in Ballard, where she made enormous batches of Mazurkas which were then sold to wholesale accounts. In retrospect, this was a pivotal time for the Mazurka, and it can be argued as a case of being in the right place at the right time: as a hearty, dense, oaty treat, it appealed to Seattle's outdoor sensibilities--it was the perfect accompaniment for long hikes or mountain climbs, and homey enough for the most gloomy and drizzly days. Timewise, it couldn't have come along at a better time: the Mazurka became a popular wholesale item just as the espresso cart revolution was getting started in Seattle--since new operations would look at the offerings that the existing ones had, the Mazurka just became part of the coffee shop parcel. 

It was at the commercial baking space where Jessica met Nancy Mattheiss, who ran a custom cakes business--though their paths took a few loops and turns, a few years later they paired up again, adding a third partner Sue Fenoglio, to open the Mcgraw Street Bakery, where the Mazurka was a consistent bestseller.

Reisman eventually assumed ownership of the bakery, but sold a few years later. The bakery itself was leased out to various different businesses before eventually housing 

Macrina Bakery's Queen Anne location. She continued with a wholesale baking business for a couple more years, but eventually sold that too (along with the Mazurka recipe), in favor of returning back East to be closer to her family. She mentions that she thinks the business had since been sold again; though I can't confirm this, I surmise that perhaps it was sold to or absorbed by Great Harvest Bread Company--they are the only retailer in Seattle that sells a fruit and oat bar specifically called the Mazurka Bar, and that seems awfully coincidental.

Today, Jessica Reisman owns another bakery/cafe,

Homespun Foods, in the artistic community of Beacon, New York (about an hour outside of NYC). The Mazurka lives on at Homespun, but is called the Mt. Beacon Bar. Though it is still a popular item, it never quite took off the same way it did in Seattle. Perhaps this is due to the weather; perhaps the culture; perhaps they just have different tastes on the East Coast. 

It is my belief though, that the Mazurka was in its element in Seattle. It was in the right place at the right time--and even years later, will remain a delicious historical marker of our cultural past.

As for the Mazurka's place in Jessica's heart and appetite? Well, let's just say she's been making them a long time. "I never touch mazurkas anymore," she laughs over the phone, "though I do love the way they smell."

Want more lore?

Definitely start out by reading the chock-full-of-carbohydrate novels

Bread Alone

and

The Baker's Apprentice

by

Judith Ryan Hendricks

Heck, while you're at it, go ahead and read her other novel (unrelated to the others but still food-filled),

Isabel's Daughter

Also, for an artifact we unearthed along the way, check out this 1992 article from the

Seattle Times, about Jessica's Mazurkas!

Want to make the Mazurka?

We located the original recipe in

Maida Heatter's Book of Great Cookies; though Jessica admits to having taken some liberties and tried out different fillings, this is where you should start to master the mysterious treat:

POLISH WEDDING CAKES

These are called Mazurka in Polish. There are many versions, all rich and moist. This one has a crunchy crust and a tart apricot filling. 

Makes 16 2-inch squares 

Apricot Filling

• 4 ounces (about 24 halves) dried apricots
• 1/2 cup water
• 2 tablespoons sugar

1. Bring the apricots and the water to a boil, uncovered, in a small, heavy saucepan with a tight cover over high heat. Reduce the heat to low, cover the pan, and simmer until the apricots are very tender, about half an hour, depending on the apricots. The fruit should be very soft and the water should be partially but not completely absorbed.
2. Press the apricots with a potato masher or stir and mash vigorously with a fork. The mixture should be very thick. Add the sugar and stir until it dissolves. Cool to room temperature. If you wish, this filling may be made ahead of time and refrigerated.

Polish Pastry 

Note: this is not like American pastry. It will resemble a crumb mixture.

• 1 1/4 cups sifted all-purpose flour
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup dark brown sugar, firmly packed
• 6 ounces (1 1/2 sticks) cold butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
• 1 3/4 ounces (1/2 cup, firmly packed) shredded coconut
• 3/4 old fashioned or quick cooking (not "instant") oatmeal
• 2 ounces (generous 1/2 cup) walnuts, cut medium fine

1. Adjust an oven rack one-third up from the bottom and preheat oven to 325 degrees.
2. Place the Flour, salt, and sugar in a mixing bowl. With a pastry blender cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Stir in the coconut, oatmeal, and walnuts.
3. Place half (3 cups) of the mixture in an unbuttered 8-inch-square cake pan. Press it evenly with your fingertips. Cover with a piece of wax paper and with the palm of your hand press against the paper to make a smooth, compact layer. Remove the wax paper.
4. Spread the apricot filling smoothly over the pastry, staying 1/4 to 1/2 inch away from the edges. Sprinkle the remaining pastry evenly over the filling and repeat the directions for covering with wax paper and pressing smooth. Remove the wax paper.
5. Bake for 60 to 70 minutes until the top is barely semifirm to the touch. (note: Personally I find that Maida's bake time is long. I prefer more like 25-30).
6. Cool in the pan for 15 minutes or so; be sure to cut around the sides to loosen from the pan before cutting and serving.

Thank you to Judith Ryan Hendricks, Jessica Reisman, and Nancy Mattheiss for their help with this story.

The Delicious Tale of Dobos Torte

He may not have had nine lives, but József C. Dobos left a many-layered legacy that's considered a symbol of Hungary. It's called Dobos Torte, an elegant caramel-coated cake which, when cut into, becomes even better--because once you get past that eloquent exterior, you'll find several (between 7 and 11) layers of delicate sponge cake sandwiched with a luscious chocolate buttercream.

Sometimes thought of as the Hungarian equivalent to Escoffier, the famous French foodie who was the inventor of, among other dishes, Cherries Jubilee, Dobos was a fancy chef from a long line of fancy chefs. After spending his life in the culinary arts, he settled down in his later years to open a gourmet food shop in Hungary. He created this cake as a pleasurable way to satisfy the need for a dessert that would keep well: refrigeration wasn’t as easy to come by as it is today, and the high ratio of rich frosting to cake ensured that the cake would stay moist for far longer than a plain sponge cake.

 But that wasn't the only selling point of the cake: Dobos, a true pastry pilgrim, had discovered buttercream in his travels to France--ooh la la! When he used it in his cake (at a time when most cakes were filled with cooked creams or custards), the sinfully luxuriant, sweet buttercream-filled Dobos Torte stood out. That's right: while the combination of cake with buttercream filling is commonplace today, at the time it was really quite a revolutionary dessert concept! 

Mr. Dobos also seemed to be quite the marketing expert for his time: after he grandly introduced his Dobos Torte at the National General Exhibition of Budapest in the 1880s, the cake became a sensation throughout Europe, earning devotees from far and wide. Dobos, like a modern-day pastry rock star, even toured European capitals, introducing the cake to different cities and presenting it in a special, custom-made container. Talk about hyping your brand!
 
Dobos went to the great meringue in the sky in the 1920s, but his very unique cake has lived on: among the many honors bestowed on him and his creation over the decades, my favorite remains the time when  a six-foot-diameter Dobos torte was paraded by pastry chefs through the avenues of Budapest! Dobos torte remains a classic today; look for it when you're traveling the world, visiting fancy hotels, restaurants, and pastry shops. 

When it comes to making Mr. Dobos' creation yourself, don't be daunted by the long list of ingredients and instructions: this is definitely a recipe that requires time and attention, but it's not very difficult to prepare, and once it's served, you'll secure a spot as baking royalty among your family and friends. The crowning glory is the caramel top layer, which, when applied, will undoubtedly make you feel as if you are adding the torch to the Statue of Liberty.

Full disclosure? When I made this cake, I made it slightly wrong. Usually the caramel is cut as triangles and then placed at a rakish angle along the cake's top, like this. I made it as a topping layer. You know what? Still tasty, even if not quite 100% traditional. So I have it that way in my tutorial!

Dobos Torte (Printable version here!)

Makes one tall 9-inch layer cake (16 servings) 

For the cakes:

• 9 egg whites
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 8 egg yolks (use the last egg yolk for the buttercream)
• 1/4 cup milk (whole or 2%)
• 1 tablespoon lemon zest, from 1 large lemon
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• Pinch of salt
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
• Confectioners' sugar, for dusting 

For the buttercream:

• 12 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped (about 2 cups)
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 large eggs
• 1 egg yolk
• 1 pound (4 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into pieces 

For the caramel:

• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 3 tablespoons water

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Generously grease and flour the bottom and sides of a 9-inch springform pan. Have ready two 10-inch cardboard circles.

 To make the cake, put the egg whites in the very clean bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Beat the egg whites until frothy, then gradually add the sugar. Continue beating just until soft peaks form. Transfer to a large, wide bowl to make later steps (folding, etc) easier.  

In another bowl, whisk the  8 egg yolks with the milk, lemon zest, vanilla, and salt until well blended. Fold about ¼ of the egg yolk mixture into the egg whites to lighten the mixture; fold in the rest of the yolks in a second addition. This will keep the mixture from deflating. Sift the flour over the egg mixture, and fold in two additions, making sure that the flour has been completely incorporated.  

Measure about 1 cup batter into the prepared pan, then spread and level it, using an offset or rubber spatula. Bake for about 4 to 7 minutes, or until lightly browned on the edges, with a dull finish on top, and the cake has begun to pull away from the edges of the pan slightly. Remove the cake from the oven, and let sit for a 3 to 4 minutes before removing the layer from the pan with a metal spatula. Dust the cake lightly with confectioners' sugar (this will keep the layers from sticking), and place on a rack to cool.

Clean and grease the pan; repeat this process until all of the batter is used, about 6 times more. As you bake, stack the layers between waxed or parchment paper, and cover with a clean towel. Refrigerate the layers until completely cold, about 2 hours.

To make the buttercream, start by melting the chocolate in a heavy-bottomed saucepan over low heat, or in the top of a double boiler. Stir slowly and constantly until the chocolate melts. Set aside.

Using an electric mixer, whisk the eggs and egg yolk on medium-high speed until they reach the ribbon stage (“ribbons” will drip when you hold up a whisk, rather than just drips). Turn off the mixer, but leave the egg mixture in the bowl.

In a small saucepan combine the sugar and water, stirring until the sugar is dissolved. Stop stirring and let the mixture come to a boil; cook to 240 degrees (the soft-ball stage) on a candy thermometer Take pan off the heat.  

Return to the egg mixture. Whisk on low speed,and pour the hot syrup into the egg mixture in a slow but steady stream. Increase the mixing speed and whip the mixture until it is roughly the texture of whipped cream and has cooled to room temperature (the mixing bowl may still feel slightly warm). Add the butter in 3 parts, stirring so that it gets mixed in. Then add the melted chocolate (it should be just slightly warm). Continue to whip until smooth and well blended.

To assemble the cake, start with one layer of cake; set it on one of the 10-inch rounds; cover the top surface with some buttercream ( a slightly overflowing 1/3cup), and then press down with another layer to make a good seal. Repeat this with all but one of the cake layers. Wrap the torte in plastic, and refrigerate for at least 6 hours; also wrap and chill the remaining buttercream (you should have about 2 cups left). Place a sheet of parchment paper on top of the other cardboard round, and place the last layer on it; wrap and refrigerate.

To make the caramel topping, in a medium saucepan, cook the sugar and water over moderately high heat, stirring occasionally, until an amber caramel forms, about 5 minutes.

Unwrap the single cake layer. Carefully pour the caramel over the cake layer and spread it thinly, using a small offset spatula. Don't worry if some of it drips off of the cake while you spread it. Working quickly, use an oiled or buttered sharp knife to indent the top of the caramel into 16 wedges (this will ensure that the caramel doesn't crack when you cut slices). Allow to cool slightly, and then retouch the indents with the knife again. Place the layer onto a countertop dusted with confectioners'sugar, and allow the caramel to cool completely.

Place more buttercream on top of the chilled torte, and top with the caramel round. Frost the sides with the remaining buttercream. Cover loosely, and chill the torte for about an hour before serving; let come to room temperature before serving.

Store, loosely covered, in the refrigerator, for up to 3 days. 

Teatime Tastiness: Lady Baltimore Cake Story and Recipe

Here’s a cake that was built for genteel tea parties: a large layer cake filled with chopped nuts and dried fruits and topped with a dramatic (but ever ladylike) billow of boiled frosting. But while one might suppose that this distinguished cake was named after Lady Baltimore, that's not quite how the story went. Like many cakes, its origins are disputed--but like any teatime gossip, this makes the story so much more fun to delve into. A very helpful resource in my delving was The Old Foodie, by the way. Oh, and if you like tales like this, you should probably pre-order my new book, The Secret Lives of Baked Goods: Sweet Stories & Recipes for America's Favorite Desserts.

Let's start with the tales that are likely false. First: the Lady Baltimore connection. Highly unlikely that the cake dates back to her day: the Lady, whose Irish husband inherited Maryland in the mid-seventeenth century, never even lived in America, and in any case baking powder leavening agents were not invented until well into the nineteenth century – making a cake of this sort not very likely to have been invented as a casual teatime treat during her day. The Big Fella of American Cookery, James Beard, says of Lady Baltimore that it is “said to have originated in Maryland, this one one of the first fine-textured cakes mentioned in old cookery books. It required a delicate touch in mixing and exact measurements--this, in the days of no standard measuring cups, teaspoons, or tablespoons.” Second: the Dolley Madison connection. Some say that the cake rose in popularity due to the fact that it was similar to a cake enjoyed by Dolley Madison, the fourth First Lady but this story fails to explain why it is not then called Dolly Madison cake. Also, she's already got an ice cream named after her—isn't that enough?

And now, the favored explanations for the cake—likely, the true story is a combination of the two. First: It originated in Charleston at the end of the nineteenth century, at “The Lady Baltimore Tearooms”, and was a variation of another popular cake.

Second: novelist Owen Wister is the one who made this cake famous--while writing his 1906 romance, Lady Baltimore, set in a fictional city based on Charleston, he was extremely taken with the city and a cake he ate there. In fictional form, it is described as being not unlike a wedding cake, and the suggestive passage is as follows:

"I should like a slice, if you please, of Lady Baltimore," I said with extreme formality. I thought she was going to burst; but after an interesting second she replied, "Certainly," in her fit Regular Exchange tone; only, I thought it trembled a little.

I returned to the table and she brought me the cake, and I had my first felicitous meeting with Lady Baltimore. Oh, my goodness! Did you ever taste it? It's all soft, and it's in layers, and it has nuts--but I can't write any more about it; my mouth waters too much.

Upon reacting in a strongly favorable way, the narrator realizes that the girl he’d been speaking to was the cake-maker. He finds that it has broken the ice, and their sweet flirtation continues. Some say that it is an instance of art imitating life: could it be possible that Wister had been served some delicious cake by an appealing Southern belle, and was inspired to immortalize the experience?

Supporting this is the fact that there seems to be no mention anywhere of a cake called “Lady Baltimore” until the first known publication of the recipe in 1906. Suddenly there was a flood of newspaper articles mentioning the cake; one writer in 1907 only agreeing to part with the recipe ‘with the sanction of Owen Wister’. Most likely? The cake preceded Wister's novel, but was renamed toute-suite after the novel's popularity became evident. Perhaps some entrepreneurial cake-shop owner took note after reading the book and tweaked the recipe to live up to the novel. Perhaps it was even the ladies at the Lady Baltimore Tea Rooms in Charleston.

Lady Baltimore, in cake form, has a male companion: the Lord Baltimore Cake. This yellow cake variation was created as a clever way to use up all of the egg yolks discarded while making the Lady version of the cake, yielding a rich, decadent counterpart.

Delicate and fine-crumbed, this cake is nicely paired with the rich fillings and toppings which keep it from being too light and angel food-like. Precision with the cake is necessary to get the “lift” from the egg whites, but it's worth the effort: it makes for sweet, easy eating, and the cake's history will make for some fascinating conversation.

Lady Baltimore Cake (printable recipe here!)
16 servings

• 3 cups flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
• 2 cups sugar
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1 cup milk
• 7 large egg whites
• 1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

Boiled frosting (recipe follows)

1. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Grease and flour the bottoms and sides of three 8-or 9-inch round cake pans; line with rounds of parchment paper.
2. In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.
3. In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter with the sugar until the mixture is light and fluffy, about 3-5 minutes on medium speed. Stir in the vanilla.
4. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture in 2-3 additions, alternately with the milk, and stir the batter until it is just combined.
5. In another large bowl, beat the egg whites, cream of tartar, pinch of salt until they form stiff peaks.
6. Stir a portion of the egg whites into the batter to lighten the mixture; follow by gently folding in the remaining whites.
7. Divide the batter evenly among the prepared pans. Use a spatula to smooth the top of the batter in the pans.
8. Bake for 25-35 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean.
9. Let the cake layers cool in the pans on racks for 10 minutes, turn them out onto the racks, and let them cool completely. If the cakes have formed a dome on top, slice using a serrated knife to level. 

Boiled frosting

• 6 large egg whites
• 2 cups sugar
• 3/4 cup water
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup finely chopped dried figs plus sliced dried figs for garnish
• 1 cup pecans, toasted lightly and chopped fine, plus pecan halves for garnish
• 1/2 cup raisins, chopped

1. In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the egg whites until they hold soft peaks. Set aside.
2. In a small saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the sugar and the water, stirring occasionally. Once it comes to a boil, continue stirring, more frequently, until the sugar is dissolved; boil the syrup until it registers 248 degrees F on a candy thermometer.
3. With the mixer running add the hot syrup to the egg whites, in a slow, steady stream.
4. Add the vanilla, beating the icing until it is smooth and cool.
5. Transfer two cups of the frosting to a bowl. With the remaining portion of frosting, fold in the chopped figs, pecans, and raisins.
6. Place the first cake layer on a serving plate, flat (un-cut) side up. Spread it with half of the fruit and nut-filled frosting, keeping a ½ inch margin around the edges—the weight of the next layer will spread the filling to the edges. Place another cake layer on top of the frosting, once again so that the flat side faces up. Spread the remaining fruit and nut-filled frosting on top of this layer, once again leaving a margin. Place the third cake layer on top, flat side up. Use the reserved plain frosting to frost the top and sides of the cake. Garnish with any remaining fruit or nuts.

Sweet Cake Alabama: Lane Cake Recipe

Lane Cake: now there's a tall southern belle of a layer cake. It's filled with coconut, chopped fruit and nuts, and a generous serving of whiskey or brandy, and topped off with a snowy range of fluffy frosting. Cutting into this cake is particularly enjoyable: the white frosting gives way to a creamy-colored cake, with a slightly more yellow-toned custard that's flecked with a confetti of nuts and fruits.

Credit for the cake goes to Emma Rylander Lane of Clayton, Alabama, who published the original recipe under the name "Prize Cake" in a self-published cookbook around the turn of the century. It had been titled "Prize Cake" because she had entered it, and won, in a baking contest in Georgia. As time went on and the cake's popularity was spread, Lane's name was attached to the cake.

Modern cookbooks will point out that the original recipe is "imprecise," but over the years (and with the advent of the standardization of ingredient measurements), it has evolved into one of Alabama's famous culinary feats. The cake has been reinvented time and time again, with different types of fruit and nuts in the filling, some with grape juice for teetotaler or child-friendly affairs. This version is fairly classic, with a light cake, dense filling, and a fluffy boiled frosting.

And you, too, can take pride in making this cake. While not necessarily difficult, it is a somewhat laborious cake. However, the end result is a lovely cake that is well-suited for celebrating: delicious, sophisticated and ladylike, but with a little kick from the alcohol that lets you know it means business.

For the full entry and recipe, visit Serious Eats!

Sealed with a Kiss: Potato Kisses Recipe

You may not know this, but during the Great Depression, when many ingredients were scarce, an unexpected ingredient had a bit of a heyday in the world of confectionery: the Potato! 

And I don't mean lumpy but delicious baked goods or candy bars named after their resemblance to the potato. I mean treats made with actual potatoes--usually mashed, and added (I imagine) as a sort of flour substitute / body-builder, and as an absorber of other flavors around it.

While the potato's period of vogue as a component of confectionery seems to have faded, it was fun to make this recipe for Potato Kisses; this is the traditional recipe, but for next week's Serious Eats post, I am going to do a modern-day (and in my opinion, more delicious!) version.

I found this recipe in Who Wants Candy? by Jane Sharrock, where she says "once quite popular as an after-dinner treat with our grandparents and great-grandparents, potato candies are now ssomewhat of a novelty, with only a handful of lucky people knowing how delicious they can be." The book also includes recipes for Wacky Potato Fudge and Potato fondant.

Potato Kisses

• 1/2 cup unseasoned hot mashed potatoes
• 1 teaspoon butter
• 1 pound confectioners' sugar, sifted
• 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
• 3 1/2 ounces sweetened flaked coconut

Procedure

1. Cover a countertop area or large baking sheet with waxed or parchment paper.
2. In a medium mixing bowl, combine the mashed potatoes and butter, mixing well. Gradually add the sugar, blending until smooth. Stir in the almond extract and coconut; drop by spoonfuls on to the paper. Store in an airtight container.

A Paczki Upon Thee: A Primer on Paczki and How to Enjoy It

The good news: today it is your job to eat Pączki.

The bad news: you don't know what Pączki is, and it sounds like something contagious.

Never fear! I am here to introduce you to this traditional Polish sweet. Really, it's far more delicious than it sounds  (pronounced--oh those crazy Europeans--"poonch-kee").

First off, what is it? Per Polish Heritage Cookery, "Pączek is a deep-fried piece of dough shaped into a flattened sphere and filled with confitureor other sweet filling. Pączki are usually covered with powdered sugar, icing or bits of driedorange zest. A small amount of grain alcohol (traditionally, Spiritus) is added to the dough before cooking; as it evaporates, it prevents the absorption of oil deep into the dough".

Or, to simplify it a bit, sort of but not quite a jelly doughnut--but possibly its European ancestor, with a richer, eggier dough. And not limited to just jelly for filling.

Why is it your job to eat them today? Well, as I learned from the internet,

In Poland, pączki are eaten especially on Fat Thursday (the last Thursday before Lent). Many Polish Americans celebrate Pączki Day on Fat Tuesday (the day before Ash Wednesday). Traditionally, the reason for making pączki was to use up all the lard, sugar, eggs and fruit in the house, because they were forbidden to be consumed due to Catholic fasting practices during Lent.

So, today through thursday is kind of like "Stop! Packzi Time" (insert "Hammer time" breakdown here).

How can you enjoy them? In a few ways. If you're in Seattle like me, lucky you: they have them at Metropolitan Market locations, and at Bakery Nouveau for sure. If you're in the midwest, they're probably at so many places that you can't even count (at least this is my fantasy). But if no bakeries in your area have these treats on offer, there is a solution: make them yourself. Here's a recipe--but, you know, there's also one in this great book called Doughnuts: Simple and Delicious Recipes to Make at Home by my bloggy BFF Lara Ferroni.

Red-Hot: A Treat-ise on Marilyn Monroe and Red Velvet Cake

If Red Velvet Cake were a celebrity, living or alive, who would it be?

If you ask me, the answer is clear: Marilyn Monroe. 

After all, Red Velvet is one hot number of a cake (the New York Times has even referred to it as "vampy"); Marilyn, one hot number of a lady. But not content to leave it at that, I've created a "Treat-ise" if you will of similarities between these deliciously sensual icons.

Life and Death in 1962: As it turns out, the first recipe for the iconic dessert referring to it as "Red Velvet Cake" was published in 1962. The cake had existed before that, it's true, its red color a reaction of its ingredients, but this recipe calls for red food coloring, which amps up the color and has become a signature of the cake. So while the cake had existed, this was the year that it began its ascent into legendary territory. Similarly, for Marilyn, 1962 was a remarkable year: the year of her death, and also the year she went from starlet to legend with legacy.

Humble beginnings and a Swanlike Transformation: Both Red Velvet Cake and Marilyn Monroe began their lives in much simpler, humbler ways than the icons that we now call to mind when thinking about either party, pastry or person. In the case of Red Velvet Cake, it began as the slightly ruddy-hued outcome of buttermilk and vinegar reacting while baking; it wasn't until years later that bakers began to play up this reaction by adding red food coloring (and lots of it) for the dramatic look. Marilyn Monroe came into this world as Norma Jeane Mortensen--at a very young age, her mother remarried and Norma Jeane took on the last name Baker(!). But it wasn't until the 1940s, when she bleached her hair blonde and took on the name Marilyn Monroe that her career really took off.

A Dramatic Signature Look: There's no denying that both Red Velvet Cake and Marilyn Monroe are both iconic in appearance. In the case of Red Velvet Cake, cutting into the fluffy white frosting which gives way to a highly contrasting, visceral red expanse of cake is a downright heady experience. Marilyn, with her platinum locks, contrasting dark arched brows, signature beauty mark and pretty pout, had the power to draw all eyes to her. Love 'em or loathe 'em, in both cases there is no denying that they're striking visually.

Do these icons sometimes cross into caricature territory, more alluring in looks than in reality? Perhaps, but as Marilyn once said, "It’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." 

Haute Hotel Connections: Both of these icons have ties to another legend--the Waldorf=Astoria Hotel. In the case of Red Velvet Cake, it comes by form of an urban legend: 

One early story links it to New York. In their new “Waldorf-Astoria Cookbook” (Bulfinch Press, 2006), John Doherty and John Harrisson say that the cake, which they call a Southern dessert, became a signature at the hotel in the 1920s. (It is also the subject of an urban legend: a woman at the Waldorf was supposedly so taken with it that she asked for the recipe — for which she was charged $100 or more. In revenge, she passed it along to everyone she knew. The tale, like a similar one about a cookie recipe from Neiman Marcus, has been debunked.)

As for Marilyn? According to Wikipedia,

In 1955, Marilyn Monroe stayed at the hotel for several months, but due to costs of trying to finance her production company "Marilyn Monroe Productions", only being paid $1,500 a week for her role in The Seven Year Itch and being suspended from 20th Century Fox for walking out on Fox after creative differences, living at the hotel became too costly and Monroe had to move into a different hotel in New York City.

Of course, there's no mention of whether or not she ate the cake while she stayed there.

They both have Famous admirers. It's true: both are famously (or perhaps infamously) favorites of high-ranking notables. I wanted to say that both had Presidential admirers, but after much googling I couldn't find any pictures or references of past or present presidents eating Red Velvet Cake (what's up, Google, not responding to my "Bill Clinton eating Red Velvet" query!?). Although...the President...of the Borough of Brooklyn, that is, Marty Markowitz, was recently a judge at a Red Velvet contest. So Red Velvet does have a presidential admirer! Of course, Marilyn's presidential admirer--a fellow named Kennedy--notably involved an incident with singing (and cake?).

But even without Presidential admirers, Red Velvet is still a known favorite of many famous people, having received public love from Oprah Winfrey (arguably more influential than the President), Katie Holmes, and Russell Brand.

Silver Screen Sirens: Obviously Marilyn Monroe stole the show in just about every movie she was in, but Red Velvet has had its moment too: it was famously featured in the classic film Steel Magnolias and is often cited as one of the most memorable bits about the movie (at least by people I know).

Say "Cheese": Yup--cheese figures into the lives of Red Velvet and Marilyn Monroe--literally and figuratively, respectively. Red Velvet is arguably most deliciously (if not technically most authentically) topped with cream cheese frosting. Marilyn famously did "cheesecake" calendar poses.

Of course, if after reading this you're still not with me on the Red Velvet-Marilyn Monroe connection, I'll leave you with these bits to prove that I'm not alone in comparing this sultry red cake to blonde starlets. “It’s the Dolly Parton of cakes: a little bit tacky, but you love her,” said Angie Mosier (via the NY Times), a food writer in Atlanta and a board member of the Southern Foodways Alliance at theUniversity of Mississippi in Oxford. Also, Lux, a cupcake shop, has a flavor that they call "The Marilyn Monroe". What flavor? You guessed it, Red Velvet.

Pound It: Pound Cake Recipe, Circa 1824

So, here's the deal. Anyone who has ever had the slightest bit of curiousity about why Pound Cake is referred to as such is probably aware that it is derived from the French "Quatre Quarts"--meaning, literally, four quarts--which refers to the equal weight of the four ingredients (eggs, butter, sugar, flour) which went into early versions of the cake. Apparently, this easy ratio was necessary because"  In the days when many people couldn't read, this simple convention made it simple to remember recipes." (What's cooking America".

But what this brief historical lesson does not tell you, however, is how these early versions tasted.

And so, dear friends, I bravely stocked up my reusable grocery tote (I am in Seattle, after all) with a whole lot of eggs, butter, sugar, and flour, and tried it out for you.

Of course, my first inclination was to try this recipe, found on The Food Timeline:

[1817] A Pound cake, plain.
Beat a pound of butter in an earthen pan till it is like a thick cream, then beat in nine whole eggs till it is quite light. Put in a glass of brandy, a little lemon-peel shred fine; then pork in a pound and a quarter of flour. Put it into your hoop or pan, and bake it for one hour."
---The Female Instructor or Young Woman's Guide to Domestic Happiness, [Thomas Kelly:London] 1817 (p. 462)

But as tempting as it was to figure out how to "pork in" a pound and a quarter of flour, something seemed missing from this recipe: namely, sugar. So instead I opted for a variation on the recipe (also from the Food Timeline):

[1824] Pound cake.
Wash the salt from a pound of butter and rub it till it is soft as cream, have ready a pound of flour sifted, one pound of powdered sugar, and twelve eggs well beaten; put alternately into the butter, sugar, flour, and the froth from the eggs; continuing to beat them together till all the ingredients are in, and the cake quite light; add some grated lemon peel, a nutmeg, and a gill of brandy; butter the pans and bake them. This cake makes an excellent pudding if baked in a large mould, and eaten with sugar and wine. It is also excellent when boiled, and served up with melted butter, sugar, and wine."
---The Virginia Housewife, Mary Randolph, with historical notes and commentaries by Karen Hess [University of South Carolina Press:Columbia] 1984 (p. 161)

In this version, the proportions were pretty much a pound each, but in the effort to produce the most pure final product, I did not add the peel, nutmeg, or brandy.

So, here's how it all went down.

• First, creaming the butter til it was "like cream"--basically, I beat it (in my very not 1824-esque Kitchen Aid) until it was softer than butter itself, and became an aromatic, beautiful sort of thing that begged to be slathered on bread.
• In my second stand mixer (because yes, I have two...jealous?), I separately mixed the eggs. What did "well-beaten" mean? I took it to mean "beat into complete submission", so I let them thoroughly froth up by mixing them on medium for about 5 minutes (but to be 100% honest, I didn't really look at the clock).
• Then, I started to add the rest of the ingredients, bit by bit, to the extremely creamy, dreamy butter.
• This makes a pretty significant bit of batter, so I divided among a few pans. I baked each cake in a moderate (350-degree) oven until lightly golden on top--about 30-45 minutes depending on the pan size.  

But what of the cake that came out of the oven? Amazingly, this cake was far lighter than I would have expected. The crumb was surprisingly delicate, and the texture almost feathery--and yet, and yet, the indescribeably buttery and rich taste allows you to make no mistake, this is a serious cake through and through.

Would I suggest moving back to our pound cake roots? Probably not, because ultimately (for better or worse) I think I do prefer the hefty, dense, sliced loaves of pound cake that are more common these days. But it did make for a sweet experiment, and an even sweeter taste of history.

Want more? You can find a plethora of historic poundcake recipes (and info) on Food Timeline.

Sweet Birthday Wishes: Discussing the Tradition and Definition of Birthday Cake

It's August 26th, and you know what that means: it's like, the biggest cake eating day of the year. That is to say...it's CakeSpy founder and Head Spy Jessie's (hi, that's me) birthday. But of course, while you're celebrating by eating slice after slice of sweet, buttercreamy, blissful birthday cake, one question might just come to your mind:

What is birthday cake, exactly?

In my head, it's easy enough to conjure: it is a three tier white cake with pink buttercream frosting and roses and frosting piped in a scalloped pattern on the side. This is the birthday cake (pictured left) I got for many of my formative years growing up in New Jersey--yep, I was a lucky kid, all right.

While people will likely have their own vision of the ideal birthday cake, the vision of what a birthday cake actually is seems universal: cake with lots of frosting, hopefully sprinkles or some sort of topping decoration, and candles.

To prove this point, I asked Twitter followers today (I know, I know) to submit a drawing of a birthday cake--just to see if people did have a classic vision of what a birthday cake looks like. Here were some of the submissions: 

Image by ChubbyCraft 

Image by CupcakeBreath

Image by Edenpest

Image by Baker's Cakes

Don't know about you, but I feel like I noticed two definite themes: festivity and frosting. So regardless of whether you might prefer to eat a rich tiramisu or chocolate torte or even pie (who are you?) for your birthday, there is no denying that the birthday cake is an icon.

But why?

To understand, we're going to have to go way back in time, to ponder the roots of this sweet tradition.

Where do Birthday Cakes come from? 

Per Food Timeline, 

Cakes were eaten to celebrate birthdays long before they were called "birthday cakes." Food historians confirm ancient bakers made cakes (and specially shaped breads) to mark births, weddings, funerals, harvest celebrations, religious observances, and other significant events. Recipes varied according to era, culture, and cuisine. Cakes were usually saved for special occasions because they were made with finest, most expensive ingredients available to the cook. The wealthier one was, the more likely one might consume cake on a more frequent basis.

True to that point, as I discovered on What's Cooking America, there is evidence in several cultures of earlier versions of this celebration cake, ranging from honey cakes made in Ancient Greece to celebrate major occasions (the 50th birthday, for instance, was marked with a cake made from honey, flour, cheese, and olive oil) to cakes that date back to medieval times in England wherein hidden objects were said to give good luck to the finder (a tradition which still exists with the King Cake and Galette des rois) to a tradition dating back to medieval times in Germany wherein a sweetened bread dough was molded into the shape of Jesus in swaddling clothes to commemorate birthdays.

But what holds true in all of these cases is that serving cake for special occasions is something that dates way back--a tradition which has changed and evolved based on ingredient availability and flavor preferences.

So how did we get to the fluffy, buttercream-frosted variety we commonly know in America today? As I discovered in The Oxford Encyclopedia of Food and Drink in America: 2-Volume Set (led there by Foodtimeline.org)

Although fruitcakes and rich, yeasted cakes were the traditional English festive cakes, the modern form of birthday cake originated in American kitchens in the mid-nineteenth century. In contrast to their European counterparts, American women were active home bakers, largely because of the abundance of oven fuel in the New World and the sparsity of professional bakers. By the late 1800s, home bakers were spurred further by several innovations. The cast-iron kitchen stove, complete with its own quickly heated oven, became standard equipment in urban middle-class homes. Women in towns had more discretionary time, compared to farm-women, and they had an expanding social life that required formal and informal hospitality. Sugar, butter, spice, and flour costs were dropping. Improved chemical leavening agents, baking powder among them, enabled simpler and faster baking and produced a cake of entirely different flavor and texture. A cake constructed in layers, filled and frosted, became the image of the standard birthday cake. One observer of the early 1900s compared bubbly soap lather to "the fluffiness of a birthday cake" and snowy, frost covered hills to iced birthday cakes

And, as this fascinating passage goes on to share,

Writing on birthday cakes began with professional bakers and caterers, who were proliferating in growing cities. The cakes of the late 1800s were decorated with inscriptions like "Many Happy Returns of the Day" and the celebrant's name, a tradition that continues into the twenty-first century. Sometimes the cake was home-baked but then decorated by a specialist...The phrase "Happy Birthday" did not appear on birthday cake messages until the popularization of the now-ubiquitous song "Happy Birthday to You" (1910). Cookbook authors began to recommend decorating with birth dates and names and offered instruction on how to make colored frostings...By 1958, A.H. Vogel had begun to manufacture preformed cake decorations. Inexpensive letters, numbers, and pictorial images, such as flowers or bow, with matching candleholders were standard supermarket offerings."

Based on all of these small changes that have contributed to the current cake's look, I wonder...what might birthday cakes look like in several hundred years?

Candles

As for the candles on the cake? A couple of schools of thought. As  I discovered on What's Cooking America,

Birthday candles originally were placed on cakes to bring birthday wishes up to God. In ancient times, people prayed over the flames of an open fire. They believed that the smoke carried their thoughts up to the gods. Today, we believe, that if you blow out all your candles in one breath, your wish will come true.

Another source cites that Greeks used to light candles on the cake taken to Artemis to "make it glow like a moon"; and finally, another source speaks of the tradition's ties to German culture:

The tradition of lighting candles for birthdays continued in Europe, where candles were sometimes kept burning all day on a person's birthday, partly as celebration and partly to ward off evil spirits. 
In Germany, one big candle was placed in the middle of the cake. The birthday holiday was known as Kinderfest, a celebration of the holiday but also an occasion to keep careful watch over little ones who were supposedly more vulnerable to evil spirits on that day. The large candle frequently was marked from years one down to 12, and the candle was burned down only enough to mark that year's age.

Of course, no matter how much you want to wonder about the origins of this delicious treat, one thing is for sure: no matter how you slice it, it's a happy occasion to eat whatever kind of cake you want for your birthday. In fact, why not have a second slice?

Ding Dong, Man: A Sweet Peek at a Classic Treat

Recently I came across an unexpected surprise at Seattle's Bauhaus Coffee: individually foil-wrapped Ding Dongs for just $1 each. Naturally this was a source of excitement--it's always exciting to find a homemade version of junk food!

Well, upon inquiring further, it turns out that the pastries themselves are nothing of serious note: per the employee I spoke to, they are, in fact, just the commercially made Hostess variety, re-packaged in foil.

However, while one might argue that this is simply a crafty way of re-packaging a 50 cent treat and charging more for it, as it turns out, this way of displaying them is actually quite authentic. Per Wikipedia:

A Ding Dong is a chocolate cake that is sold by Hostess Brands. It is round with a flat top and bottom, about three inches in diameter and a little more than an inch high, similar in shape to a hockey puck. A white creamy filling is injected into the center, and a thin coating of chocolate glaze covers the entire cake. The cake was originally wrapped in a square of thick aluminum foil, enabling it to be carried in lunches without melting the chocolate glaze.

The page also goes on to discuss a bit more about the treat:

The Ding Dong is similar to other cream-filled cakes, such as Arcade Vachon's Jos. Louis introduced before 1934 and still in production. Hostess began marketing their Ding Dong in 1967. The name was given to coincide with a television ad campaign featuring a ringing bell. The company marketed the snacks on the East Coast as Big Wheels, to avoid confusion with the Ring Ding, a similar (and pre-existing) treat by Drake's Cakes. The names were consolidated in 1987, when a short-lived merger of Drake's with Hostess' parent company (then Continental Baking Company) briefly resolved the Ring Ding/Ding Dong conflict. When the merged company broke up, however, Hostess was forced to cease, once again, using the Ding Dongs name in areas where Ring Dings were available. The compromise sound-alike name King Dons lasted untilInterstate Bakeries Corporation, which had recently merged with Hostess' parent company, bought Drake's in 1998. The Hostess product is now sold under the name Ding Dongs throughout the United States. However, the snack is still sold as the King Don in Canada.

and to confirm the bit about the name, I also consulted the official Hostess page:

The name Ding Dong came from the chiming bells used in Hostess' first television commercials and you'll be singing a happy tune every time you polish off a package.  Nibble them slowly, like a king or queen, and savor the creamy goodness of every morsel, or bite right into that creamy center and get a mouthful of chocolate goodness.

Of course, the official page also introduced me to a game I'd never heard of: Ding Dong Ditch, which "involves knocking on the front door (or ringing the doorbell of) a victim, then running away before the door can be answered." Who knew? They even have a video of it in action, with celebrities. Here you go:

For more, check out the official Ding Dong page on the Hostess website!

Morning Glory: The Lovely and Amazing Morning Bun

It's time to talk about the Morning Bun, that beautiful American adaptation of French breakfast pastries.

First off, what is this thing? As Carey Jones put it so beautifully on Serious Eats,

In my mind, the morning bun is the perfect synthesis of the classic croissant and the irresistible sticky bun. Call it a croissant in cinnamon roll clothing. It’s made of a buttery croissant dough, sprinkled with cinnamon sugar (and often walnuts or pecans), then rolled into spirals. Each one is baked in a muffin tin, and when the morning buns rise, they spill up and out of their little slots. Kept in close quarters, the bottom stays a bit doughy, like a sticky bun interior, while the top lifts into an appealingly flaky, cinnamon-speckled dome.

Legend (that being lore from a CakeSpy Shop customer Katie's friend) has it that this bit of sweet manna originated in the Midwest US, perhaps the result of French settlers trying to recreate a piece of home with the ingredients and supplies they had readily available? It is listed on the Wisconsin Food Hall of Fame, at any rate.

But regardless of where it came from, one thing is certain--these beautiful buns are just as tasty as they look, and if you see one at your local bakery, you should grab one. Of course, making a trek to Tartine for one based on the picture above wouldn't be out of the question, either (and while you're in the Bay Area, hit up La Farine, too!).

For more lore and love on the subject of the Morning Bun (and recipes/bakery suggestions too!), you might like to read Serious Eats, Pink Stripes, and Apartment Therapy.

Peanutty Buddies: The Famous Salted Peanut Crisps of 1950-55

So, I wasn't actually alive in 1950, but if I had been, I can tell you what cookie I would have been eating: the Salted Peanut Crisp. According to my favorite source for all things cookie, the Betty Crocker's Cooky Book , this cookie was in high demand mid-century. As the recipe introduction notes,

Cookies Please the Younger Set -- The baby boom, begun following World War II, continues in the new decade. With "kids" in the house, cookies disappear like magic and "moms" need quick and easy cookies like this one.

Now, perhaps it's not so unexpected that recipes containing peanuts in general were rising in popularity during this time--during the war, when meat shortages were common, peanuts and peanut butter became a much valued source of inexpensive protein. Of course, after becoming hooked on its deliciousness, peanut butter sandwiches were to become an enduring staple in lunches everywhere, and the cookies and confections containing the rich, flavorful stuff were here to stay.

And to that point, as is further noted in the recipe intro,

One of our home testers wrote, "My 12-year old son carried them out by the handful." "Only modesty prevents me from calling them perfect plus," said another tester.

And you know what? Over 50 years later, I concur. Of course, I made a couple small alterations in the recipe to better suit them for modern times--first, where the original calls for 2 cups of salted peanuts, I did about 1 cup salted peanuts and 1 cup peanut butter; this gave them a nice density and chewiness. Second, instead of dropping the dough on the cookie sheet by teaspoonfuls, I went ahead and used an ice cream scoop--so instead of 6 dozen small cookies, I got about 2 dozen jumbo cookies, some of which I stuffed with mini peanut butter cups inside the dough for an even more decadent outcome. And it turns out that bigger and more decadent is even better: these cookies managed to turn at least one peanut butter cookie hater into a believer, and I hear that they even derailed an Atkins Diet follower. Yes!

Here's the recipe:

Salted Peanut Butter Crisps 

(Note: Though they are officially "Salted Peanut Crisps", since I added peanut butter too I have taken liberties)

Adapted from Betty Crocker's Cooky Book  

Ingredients

• 1 cup butter
• 1 1/2 cups packed brown sugar
• 2 eggs
• 2 teaspoons vanilla
• 3 cups flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup salted peanuts
• 1 cup peanut butter 

(Note: original recipe calls for 2 cups salted peanuts and no peanut butter; feel free to play with the ratios)

Procedure

1. Grease or line a baking sheet with parchment; put to the side.
2. Heat oven to 350 degrees F (original recipe calls for 375 but I found a longer bake at the lower temperature worked better, possibly because I made my cookies bigger).
3. Mix butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla thoroughly.
4. Sift flour and blend with soda and salt; stir in with wet ingredients. Mix in peanuts and peanut butter.
5. Using a cookie or ice cream scoop, scoop the dough and release onto your prepared baking sheet, leaving at least 2 inches between cookies. If desired, place a mini peanut butter cup in the center of the dough while it is still in the scoop, shaping the dough around it so that the dough fully covers the candy before releasing it on to the baking sheet. 
6. Bake for 10-12 minutes, or until golden brown on the edges (if you make your cookies smaller, it may be more like 8-10 minutes).

King of the Hill: The Difference Between Galettes des Rois and King Cake

CakeSpy Note: the King Cake photo above left is from a previous post on this site, from flickr user bobby_emm.

Christmas may be over, but the season of the King is just about to begin. No, not Elvis--we're talking King Cake. And as the Epiphany (aka King Cake Kickoff Date) draws ever closer, it seemed like a good time to examine the Galette des Rois and the King Cake to see some of the differences. Ready?

First, let's discuss the physical differences--what are these cakes?

Galette Des Rois: This cake consists of rounds of flaky puff pastry, layered with a gorgeously dense filling of frangipane. By many accounts, this popular version of the cake seems to hail from northern France.

King Cake: This version, as we know it in the USA, is largely associated with New Orleans, and is defined by wikipedia as "a ring of twisted bread similar to that used in brioche topped with icing or sugar, usually colored purple, green, and gold (the traditional Carnival colors)... Some varieties have filling inside, the most common being cream cheese followed by praline."

Both cakes are often garnished with crowns--the galette des rois version commonly being a paper version which can be worn.

Based on my research, the New Orleans King Cake more closely resembles another regional French variation which goes by various names: Gâteau des Rois, or sometimes the couronne, or sometimes the Twelfth Night Cake, which is made of brioche and candied fruits--one could surmise that the New Orleans version is a derivation of this. (Note: Not to confuse things, but it does seem that occasionally galette des rois and gateau des rois are used interchangeably).

Physical differences aside, there are several other subtle differences between the two cakes:

The Trinket

With both the Galette des Rois and the King Cake, there will be a trinket hidden inside the cake, and the person who finds it in their slice is declared "King". However, what the trinket is can vary.

With the Galette des Rois, Individual bakeries may offer a specialized line of fèves depicting diverse themes from great works of art to classic movie stars and popular cartoon characters. According to Dorie Greenspan's entry on Serious Eats,

Feve means bean and, originally, that’s what the trinket was. But over the years, while the word feve remained, the beans gave way to fanciful trinkets. (There are feve collectors all over the world now.) It probably goes without saying, but this being Paris, the best pastry chefs change their feves each year and, yes, vie to be the most original.

With the King Cake, while variations exist, by far the most popular trinket is a baby figurine. Why? Well, as you learned in last year's King Cake entry, some say is to represent the young Christ of the epiphany; however, we like this explanation so much better: "a local bakery chain got a large shipment of such plastic dolls from Hong Kong very cheaply in the 1950's and had to use them up and there is no more signifigance than that." Who knows the real truth, but hey, it makes a good story.

The Duties of the King

Additionally, the duties associated with being crowned king can vary. With both cakes, the lucky trinket-finder gets to wear the crown that traditionally garnishes the cake; while in both cases this person is declared king of the moment, it seems that a tradition more closely tied to the King Cake is that this person is also responsible for buying the cake for the next party. It would make sense that this tradition is tied only with the King Cake though, as it is available for a longer period of time and therefore there would be more occasions for the cake to be served. Which brings us to the next point...

Dates Available

Another major difference between the cakes is the dates of availability. Though both make their big debut on the Epiphany (January 6), the Galette des Rois has a noticeably shorter season--it is generally available through the month of January, whereas the King Cake will be available for the full Carnival Season, culminating on Mardi Gras (mid to late February, or sometimes even March).

Want more?

Now, by this point you may be feeling a royal hankering for one or the other of these cakes--happily, there are sweet, sweet resources for you. Ready?

Here is a recipe for the galette des rois; here is a recipe for the King Cake.

As for places to buy? 

For the galette des rois, look to your local French bakery--anyone worth their fleur de sel should have it available at least on January 6th. As for the King Cake? Alas a harder species to find, unless you're in the New Orleans area--however, joyfully, several bakeries, such as Gambino's, Haydel Bakery, and Randazzo will ship King Cakes anywhere in the US.

America the Sweet: The First Published Christmas Cookie Recipe in America

Christmas is rich in tradition--and equally rich in cookies (hooray!). But have you ever paused to wonder what the cookie selection might have been like for our ancestors?

Well, in case you had been curious, here is a recipe from what is largely considered America's first cookbook (to clarify, the first cookbook featuring American food published in America--there had been other British books which had been released here previously), American Cookery by Amelia Simmons, which was published in 1796.

If these cookies sound more like hockey pucks than delicious treats to you, please, don't despair--after all, as Amelia advises that "if put in an earthen pot, and dry cellar, or damp room, they will be finer, softer and better when six months old." Whew!

Christmas Cookey

From American Cookery by Amelia Simmons, 1796

"To three pound of flour, sprinkle a tea cup of fine powdered coriander seed, rub in one pound of butter, and one and a half pound sugar, dissolve one teaspoonful of pearlash (a rising agent) in a tea cup of milk, knead all together well, roll three quarters of an inch thick, and cut or stamp into shape and slice you please, bake slowly fifteen or twenty minutes; tho' hard and dry at first, if put in an earthen pot, and dry cellar, or damp room, they will be finer, softer and better when six months old."

Sweet Celebrities: A List of Pastries and Desserts Named After People

Having a food named after you seems like the ultimate legacy--until you consider someone like Gustave Doré, a French illustrator of the 19th century for whom the dish Estomacs de dinde à la Gustave Doré was named. (Hint: estomac means stomach, and dinde means turkey. Yeah.) What follows is a much sweeter list of legacies: a collection of desserts named after people (both real, and fictional).

CakeSpy Note: How was this list made? I started by first consulting Wikipedia's list of Foods Named After People, (which also served as the inspiration for this list); then I consulted other various sources and added a number of other desserts named after people which I discovered; then, each entry was expanded to include a description, interesting stories (and in some cases myth-busters!), and where possible, recipes. If you've got one to add, please leave a comment or send me an email!

A
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Big Hearted Al Candy Bar: Alas you won't find this one in drugstores: it was a short-lived confection named after an early-20th-century presidential candidate Al Smith (1873–1944).

Ali Babas: Alas, it's not the fictional character that this one is named after: per Wikipedia, though, "The original form of the baba was similar to the babka, a tall cylindrical yeast cake. The name means 'old woman' or 'grandmother' in the Slavic languages, and has nothing to do with Ali Baba; babka is a diminutive of the same word."

Alexandertorte: What's for sure is that this treat consists of pastry strips filled with raspberry preserves. Who invented it is a little hazier: Alexander I was gourmet Russian tsar who employed Antonin Carême. Per this site, Finland claims the creation, allegedly by Swiss pastry chefs in Helsinki in 1818, in anticipation of the tsar's visit there. Here's a recipe.

Gâteau Alexandra: Per Wikipedia, like her husband Edward VII, Alexandra of Denmark (1844–1925) was honored by an assortment of foods named after her when she was Princess of Wales and Queen. Besides this chocolate cake, there is consommé Alexandra, soup, sole, chicken quail, and various meat dishes.

Amundsen's Dessert: Roald Amundsen (1872–1928) was a great Norwegian polar explorer who ultimately met his end in an Arctic plane crash--allegedly he was served a was served this dessert before departing on his final flight, but I haven't been able to locate a recipe.

Anadama Bread: There are several legends behind this bread (including a family that claims ownership), so I'm going to go with my favorite one: "A fisherman, angry with his wife, Anna, for serving him nothing but cornmeal and molasses, one day adds flour and yeast to his porridge and eats the resultant bread, while cursing, 'Anna, damn her.' " Oh Anna, you may have been cursed, but the bread is so sweet, and delicious when liberally buttered. Here's a recipe from the wonderful Melissa Clark.

B
- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lady Baltimore Cake: Per What's Cooking America, A Southern specialty that in the present day has many recipe variations. A favorite wedding cake, this mountainous cake is a white cake topped with a boiled or "Seven Minute Frosting." What makes the cake so distinctive is the combination of chopped nuts and dried or candied fruits in its frosting. It takes its name from the main character in Owen Wister's Lady Baltimore. For more lore and a vintage recipe, visit The Old Foodie.

Battenberg cake (also called window cake): Per Wikipedia: This is a sponge cake which, when cut in cross section, displays a distinctive two-by-two check pattern alternately colored pink and yellow. The cake is covered in marzipan and, when sliced, the characteristic checks are exposed to view. These coloured sections are made by dying half of the cake mixture pink, and half yellow, then cutting each resultant sponge into two long, uniform cuboids, and joining them together with apricot jam, to form one cake. Though the origins of the name are not clear, it is rumored that the cake was created in honor of the 1884 marriage of Queen Victoria's grand-daughter to Prince Battenburg, with each of the four squares representing each of the four Battenburg Princes: Louis, Alexander, Henry and Francis Joseph. Here's a recipe.

Sarah Bernhardt Cakes: This sweet seems to waver between cookie and cake, but generally consists of a rich, nutty filling enrobed in chocolate. Either way, they take their name from famous French actress Sarah Bernhardt (1844–1923). Here's a recipe.

Betty: A Betty (or frequently, Apple Brown Betty) is a dessert which consists of a baked pudding made with layers of sweetened and spiced fruit (commonly apples) and buttered bread crumbs. It is usually served with a lemon sauce or whipped cream. The thing I can't tell you is who Betty is (do you know?); however, I can share a recipe I found.

Bismarck: Is the filled doughnut named for Otto Von Bismarck? Some say yes, some say no, but I like the explanation on Joe Pastry:

Some claim Bismarcks are called Bismarcks because Otto von Bismarck was fond of them. There's really no proof of this, since the only thing Bismarck was actually known to have an appetite for were small Northern European nation states. My guess is that the Bismarck got its name not because the Iron Chancellor loved to eat them, but because, being fairly plump pieces of pastry, they rather resembled him (he was not a thin man). But who really knows?

Either way, here's a recipe.

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Charlotte Corday: This ice cream dessert, dreamed up by Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico's, is named after Charlotte Corday (1768–1793), the assassin of the radical Jean-Paul Marat. The directions, from Ranhofer's The Epicurean Part Two are as follows:

Obtain some round crimped paper cases; cover the bottoms and sides with uncooked Andalusian ice cream and fill the centers with biscuit glacé preparation with vanilla, adding a little maraschino to it; also put in some candied orange peel cut in exceedingly thin fillets; powder the tops with pulverized macaroons and cover this with Andalusian ice cream and candied fruits. Lay them in a freezing box for an hour to finish freezing.

Apple Charlotte: Per What's Cooking America, This is a golden-crusted dessert made by baking a thick apple compote in a mold lined with buttered bread. This dessert was originally created as a way to use leftover or stale bread. Some historians think that this sweet dish took its name from Queen Charlotte, known as being a supporter of apple growers.

Charlotte Russe: A cold dessert of Bavarian cream set in a mold lined with ladyfingers; it was invented by the French chef Marie Antoine Carême (1784–1833), who either named it in honor of his Russian employer Czar Alexander I ("Russe" being the French equivalent of the adjective, "Russian") or Queen Charlotte (1744–1818), wife of George III.

Chiboust cream: This heavenly substantce is a crème pâtissière (pastry cream) lightened with whipped cream or stiffly beaten egg whites. It is eponymously titled for the French pastry chef Chiboust who invented it in the 1840s, intending to use it to fill his Gâteau Saint-Honoré. The filling is also sometimes called Saint-Honoré cream, and I have also seen cream filled pastries called simply Chiboust. Check out this recipe which includes vanilla chiboust (along with caramelized bananas and doughnuts? Booyea!).

Peach pudding à la Cleveland: Another dish by Charles Ranhofer, named for Grover Cleveland (1837–1908), 22nd and 24th U.S. president--although Cleveland was reputed to not much like French food.

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Little Debbie Cakes: Oh, to have an entire line of snack cakes named after you! Such is the case of the Little Debbie Brand--the story goes as follows (via the Little Debbie website):

In 1960, McKee Foods founder O.D. McKee was trying to come up with a catchy name for their new family-pack cartons of snack cakes. Packaging supplier Bob Mosher suggested using a family member's name. Thinking of what could be a good fit for the brand, O.D. arrived at the name of his 4-year-old granddaughter Debbie. Inspired by a photo of Debbie in play clothes and her favorite straw hat, he decided to use the name Little Debbie® and the image of her on the logo. Not until the first cartons were being printed did Debbie's parents, Ellsworth and Sharon McKee, discover that their daughter was the namesake of the new brand.

Oh, and if you want more Little Debbie fun, check this out.

Desdemona: Per The International Dictionary of Desserts, Pastries, and Confections: A Comprehensive Guide This is a pastry composed of two 3-inch round biscuits sandwiched together with vanilla whipped cream, brushed with apricot glaze, and covered in a kirsch-flavored fondant; it is named after the wife of Othello in the Shakespeare play. I only wish I had a recipe!

Dione's Chocolate Roll: This very chocolatey jellyroll style cake was the single dessert served at onetime NYC eatery The Egg Basket, and was named for proprietress Dionne Lucas. A recipe can be found in Maida Heatter's Great Desserts, and a variation can be found here.

Doboschtorte or Dobostorta: Per Wikipedia, It is a five-layer sponge cake, layered with chocolate buttercream and topped with thin caramel slices. The sides of the cake are sometimes coated with ground hazelnuts, chestnuts, walnuts or almonds but the original cake is without coat, since it was a slice of a big cake. It is named for its creator, Hungarian pastry chef Josef Dobos. Just look at this recipe.

Hello Dolly Bars: I'll be honest. I don't know the story behind the name of these bars, which also go by "Seven Layer Bars"--but I love the taste enough to include them in this roundup. Here's a recipe.

Lorna Doone: This packaged shortbread cookie made by Nabisco takes its name from the character of the same name in the novel Lorna Doone: A Romance of Exmoor (read more here). Want to try to make your own at home? Try this recipe.

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Mamie Eisenhower fudge: This rich, creamy fudge (which is also called "Million Dollar Fudge") takes its name from the first lady and the wife of U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower, Mamie D. Eisenhower. It was her contribution to a 1950's collection of recipes published by Women's National Press Club of Washington, D.C. Here's the recipe as it appeared in that book.

Elvis: I am going to go ahead and say that the banana, peanut butter and fluff combination is associated enough with Elvis to make the list. Uses for the flavor combination range from his favorite sandwich to pies and cakes. Here's just one wonderful recipe.

Essie's Cookies: This recipe, which I found in Betty Crocker's Cooky Book
, is a simple rolled cookie with almond extract; as to who Essie is, I haven't the faintest, but here's a recipe.

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Bananas Foster: This dish which beautifully melds bananas, booze, and fire, is named after Richard Foster, regular customer and friend of New Orleans restaurant Brennan's owner, which is where the dish originated. Here's the Brennan's recipe!

Frangipane: This is an almond pastry filling and tart, named for Marquis Muzio Frangipani, a 16th-century Italian of the Frangipane family (also known as Cesar Frangipani) living in Paris. He also invented a well-known bitter-almond scented glove perfume, used by Louis XIII. As for a recipe? How 'bout an apricot, cherry, and frangipane tart?

Joe Frogger: These molasses-rich cookies take their name from "Black Joe", whose partner, Lucretia Brown, invented the recipe.Find a recipe and more lore here.

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Cherry Garcia ice cream: This is a cherry and chocolate flake-flecked ice cream homage to Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead by Ben & Jerry. And, there's actually a recipe to make it yourself at home!

Garibaldi biscuits: These raisin or currant-filled English biscuits were named for Giuseppe Garibaldi (1807–1882), an Italian patriot and leader of the drive to unite Italy, after his wildly popular visit to England in 1864. (Per Wikipedia, There is also a French demi-glâce sauce with mustard and anchovies, and a consommé named after him.)

German chocolate cake: It's named after a good German, but he wasn't actually German. This chocolate and coconut throwback to the 1950's to Sam German, who developed Baker's German's Sweet Chocolate (which falls somewhere between milk and semi-sweet) in 1852. Here's a recipe.

Gianduja: Per Wikipedia, this is a sweet chocolate containing about 30% hazelnut paste, invented in Turin by Caffarel and Prochet in 1852. It takes its name from Gianduja, a Carnival and marionette character who represents the archetypal Piedmontese, the Italian region where hazelnut confectionery is common. Here's a recipe from Dana Treat for gianduja mousse!

Graham crackers: These s'more-mobiles take their name from Graham flour, which in turn takes its name from Sylvester Graham, 19th-century American Presbyterian minister and proponent of a puritan lifestyle based on teetotalling, vegetarianism, and whole wheat, who probably twists uncomfortably in his grave every time a deliciously chocolatey, marshmallowy s'more is devoured. Remember when CakeSpy introduced the world to S'moreos?

Bombe Grimaldi: Per Wikipedia, this kümmel-flavored frozen dessert probably named for a late-19th-century member or relative of Monaco's royal Grimaldi family. There is also an apple flan Grimaldi. However, I don't think either of these are related to the pizza.

Gundel Palacsinta: This is a crêpe-like pancake stuffed with rum-infused raisins and nuts and served with a chocolate-rum sauce, named for (and invented by) Hungarian chef Gundel Károly. Recipe? This one sounds good to me.

Gypsy Bar: Apparently there was a candy bar named after Gypsy Rose Lee (you know, the one that the musical was based on!). What flavor is it? Sorry friends, I am not sure.

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Hamantash (or Hamantashen): A small pastry allegedly named for the hat of the cruel Persian official outwitted by Queen Esther and hanged, Haman, in the Book of Esther. Hamentashen are traditionally eaten at Purim. You can read more here and find a recipe here!

Heath bar: This American "English toffee" bar is named for brothers Bayard and Everett Heath, Illinois confectioners who developed it in the 1920s and eventually turned the local favorite into a nationally popular candy bar. Here's a homemade Heath Bar recipe!

Oh Henry!: This candy bar, introduced by the Williamson Candy Company in Chicago, 1920, was named for a young man who frequented the company store and was often called (or perhaps admonished?) with said phrase.

Hernani Biscuit: Another Charles Ranhofer special, comprised of a Savoy biscuit with marmalade, fondant, chocolate and pastilles; possibly named for the rascal in Victor Hugo's play.

Hershey Bar: To say that Hershey is "just a chocolate bar" would be a vast understatement. It's a company, a product...and a town! And it is all named for the guy who started it all, Milton S. Hershey, who developed the bar in 1900. Read more here.

Hiroko: This raspberry Grand Marnier cream cake tart (cake and tart! at once!) takes its name from pastry chef Hiroko Ogawa; a recipe can be found in Rose Levy Beranbaum's The Pie and Pastry Bible .

Gâteau Saint-Honoré: Per Wikipedia,

this dessert is a circle of puff pastry at its base with a ring of pâte à choux piped on the outer edge. After the base is baked small cream puffs are dipped in caramelized sugar and attached side by side on top of the circle of the pâte à choux. This base is traditionally filled with crème chiboust and finished with whipped cream using a special St. Honore piping tip. The pastry is named for the French patron saint of bakers, confectioners, and pastry chefs, Saint Honoré or Honorius (d. 653), Bishop of Amiens. The pastry chef Chiboust (see Chiboust cream) is thought to have invented it in his Paris shop in 1846.

Houdini Bar: I am not sure about the origins of this delicious cream cheese, yellow cake, nut and coconut bar cookie, but I discovered it fairly recently; it is said to be named because the bars are so delicious they disappear as quickly as the famous magician. Here's the recipe.

Humboldt pudding: Another Ranhofer special, an elaborate molded pudding named after Alexander von Humboldt (1769–1859), the famous explorer and influential naturalist.

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Iago: Per The International Dictionary of Desserts, Pastries, and Confections: A Comprehensive Guidethese pastries are composed of two 2-inch round biscuits sandwiched together with coffee-flavored pastry cream, brushed with apricot glaze, and covered in coffee-flavored and colored fondant. They take their name from the villain in Shakespeare's Othello.

It Bar: The connection is perhaps indirect, but this candy bar of yesteryear took its name after "It" girl Clara Bow.

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Cousin Jack Cookies: This name is more symbolic, a "Cousin Jack" being a catchall term to describe the working-class miner immigrants from Cornish who settled in the midwest--but these drop cookies with currants are worth noting. Here's a recipe.

Apricots with rice à la Jefferson: Another Ranhofer delight! At the time of its invention, Ranhofer used a recently developed strain of Texas rice. It was aptly named, as apparently (per Wikipedia) Jefferson was very interested in improving American rice culture.

Johnnycake: These corn cakes were not sweet, but they were some of the earliest pancakes in the USA! However, to do some myth-busting, they aren't actually named for a guy named Johnny. Per What's Cooking America,

The origin of the name johnnycakes (jonnycakes) is something of a mystery and probably has nothing to do with the name John. They were also called journey cakes because they could be carried on long trips in saddlebags and baked along the way. Some historians think that they were originally called Shawnee cakes and that the colonists slurred the words, pronouncing it as johnnycakes. Historians also think that "janiken," an American Indian word meant "corn cake," could possibly be the origin.

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Kaiserschmarrn: Per Wikipedia, this is a light, caramelized pancake made from a sweet batter with flour, eggs, sugar, salt and milk, baked in butter. But even better than the delicious treat is the story behind it:

It is generally agreed that the dish was first prepared for the Austrian Emperor Francis Joseph I (1830–1916). There are several stories. One apocryphal story involves the Emperor and his wife, Elisabeth of Bavaria, of the House of Wittelsbach. Obsessed with maintaining a minimal waistline, the Empress Elisabeth directed the royal chef to prepare only light desserts for her, much to the consternation and annoyance of her notoriously austere husband. Upon being presented with the chef’s confection, she found it too rich and refused to eat it. The exasperated Francis Joseph quipped, “Now let me see what "Schmarrn" our chef has cooked up”. It apparently met his approval as he finished his and even his wife’s serving. Thereafter, the dessert was called Kaiserschmarrn across the Empire.

Here's a recipe.

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Lafayette Gingerbread: Per Saveur, according to tradition, this gingerbread was named after General Lafayette in the 1780s after George Washington's mother served him a piece, captivating him forever. Saveur also has a recipe.

Lamingtons: Per Joy of Baking, Lamingtons are very popular in Australia and consist of a small square of white cake (sponge, butter, or pound) that is dipped in a sweet chocolate icing and then rolled in desiccated coconut. I suspect Lord Lamington (Governor of Queensland from 1896 - 190l), their namesake, might be surprised at how popular these cakes have become. Joy of Baking also features a recipe.

Lane Cake: Per this site, Lane Cake is a quintessential Southern dessert, with a signature filling of a rich coconut and raisin mix. It has been around at least since the late 1800s, when Emma Rylander Lane, of Clayton, Alabama, won first prize with it at the Alabama State Fair. The Lane cake appeared in her cookbook in 1898, when it was called “Prize Cake.” Here's a recipe.

Leibniz-Keks: This German butter biscuit (similar to petit beurre biscuits) is named for philosopher and mathematician Leibniz, although as Wikipedia informs, ". The only connection between man and biscuit is that Leibniz was one of the more famous residents of Hanover, where the Bahlsen company is based."

Lindy Candy Bar: This candy bar was named for Charles Lindbergh, the famous pilot who was first to fly solo, non-stop, across the Atlantic Ocean. He also had another bar named after him: the "Winning Lindy."

Sally Lunn: Sweet, yeast-risen buns which are considered a British classic. They are traditionally served warm, split in half and spread generously with butter or cream. So who is Sally? Well, some claim that the chef who invented them in Bath, England was named Sally Lunn. Others claim that the name actually comes from the phrase "sol et lune", a French cake. Yet others claim that it is derived from the Alsatian bread solilmeme, a rich type of brioche. Whatever the true story is though, bet you'll enjoy this recipe (which can be translated).

Lussekatter (or, St. Lucia buns): These yeast-and-saffron buns are named for Saint Lucia of Syracuse (283–304), whose name day on December 13 was once considered the longest night of the year. Lucia means "light", and these buns certainly are a ray of shining sweetness on a cold, dark night. Here's a recipe.

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Madeleine: These tres-Frenchie sponge cake cookies are best known for their shape (usually a scalloped shell) and for their famous writeup in Proust's Remembrance of Things Past. Alas, which Madeleine inspired the name is a bit less clear. Per Wikipedia, some sources, including the New Oxford American Dictionary, say madeleines may have been named for a 19th century pastry cook, Madeleine Paulmier, but other sources have it that Madeleine Paulmier was a cook in the 18th century for Stanisław Leszczyński, whose son-in-law, Louis XV of France, named them for her. The Larousse Gastronomique offers two conflicting versions of the Madeleine's history. Want a recipe? How about Orange and Brown Butter madeleines, via Cannelle et Vanille?

Bain-Marie: This isn't a food, but it's a term often seen in sweet recipes: a bain-marie is a double boiler; it was initially developed for the practice of alchemy, but pretty early on it became evident that it's a great asset to baking too. But who is the Marie to whom the name can be attributed? According to Wikipedia, there are a few theories:

• According to culinary writer Giuliano Bugialli, the term comes from the Italian bagno maria, named after Maria de'Cleofa, who developed the technique in Florence in the sixteenth century.
  
• Alternatively, the device's invention has been popularly attributed to Mary the Jewess, an ancient alchemist traditionally supposed to have been Miriam, a sister of Moses.[citation needed] The name comes from the medieval-Latin term balneum (or balineum) Mariae—literally, Mary's bath—from which the French bain de Marie, or bain-marie, is derived.
  
• According to The Jewish Alchemists, Maria the Jewess was an ancient alchemist who lived in Alexandria—although this would seem to contradict the tradition that she was Moses' sister: Alexandria was founded by Alexander the Great in 334 BC, while Moses is thought to have lived around 1450-1200 BC.
  

Martha Washington's Cake: Also called the "Great Cake"--a behemoth which called for 40 eggs, 5 pounds of fruit, and so on, it's named for (duh) the first First Lady of the US, Martha Washington.

Poires Mary Garden: This dessert dish was created by Escoffier (who also created Peach Melba and several other dishes in honor of various famous ladies) for Mary Garden (1874–1967), a popular opera singer in Europe and the U.S. at the turn of the century.

Mary Jane: This peanut butter and molasses candy bar (alas, the one we never ate from our trick or treating bounty) was developed by Charles N. Miller in 1914; it's named after his favorite aunt.

Mars Bar: Think this chocolate bar is cosmically good? Well, you're right, but the name's inspiration isn't planetary: it comes from Frank C. Mars, whose mother taught him how to make candy at an early age and ultimately started the Mars candy company.

Massillon: This is a small French almond pastry is named for Jean-Baptiste Massillon (1663–1742), a famous preacher of his day who was, for a time, favored by Louis XIV (they later had their differences). The pastry originated in the town of Hyères, where Massillon was born, proud of their hometown hero. Alas, I was not able to easily find a recipe!

Peach Melba: A post-dinner dish of peaches and raspberry sauce accompanying vanilla ice cream. This sweet treat was invented by famous chef Chef Auguste Escoffier at the Savoy Hotel in the 1890s, after he heard the famous singer Nellie Melba performing at Covent Garden. Should you prefer sweet treats to sweet music, here's a recipe.

Mozart: Per Manna Cafe, "The composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791) scored this ball of pistachio and almond marzipan with an outer layer of nougat coated with bitter chocolate in 1890 in Salzburg. Eat your heart out, Salieri!"

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Nadege Tart: This lemon curd tart is unique in that it is devoid of starch; it is named for Nadege Brossllet and a recipe can be found in Rose Levy Beranbaum's The Pie and Pastry Bible

Napoleon: Though few will argue that this treat, composed of cream and flaky pastry layers all topped with a decorative fondant icing, is extremely tasty, there is some argument over the name. Some say that this pastry it is named for the emperor; however, what is more likely is that it is actually named for the city Naples. To that point--in France, they don't even call them Napoleons, they call them mille-feuille.Here's a recipe.

Nesselrode Pudding (and Nesselrode Pie): This chestnut-rich (sometimes secretly supplemented with cauliflower!) confection takes its name from Russian diplomat Count Karl Robert von Nesselrode (1780–1862). As a pie, Nesselrode enjoyed a vogue in the New York area in the 1950s, but has all but disappeared. Read about my relentless search for the pie here.

Marshal Ney: Per Wikipedia, This is an elaborate Ranhofer dessert, comprised of molded tiers of meringue shells, vanilla custard, and marzipan, is named after Napoleon's Marshal Michel Ney (1769–1815), who led the retreat from Moscow and was a commander at Waterloo.

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Bath Oliver biscuits: These digestive biscuits (I know! How appealing!) were dreamed up by Dr. William Oliver (1695–1764) of Bath, England--two guesses as to where the name comes from. These biscuits aren't actually very sweet, but I really wanted something to bulk up (get it?) the "O" section of this list.

Othello: Per The International Dictionary of Desserts, Pastries, and Confections: A Comprehensive Guide , this pastry is composed of two three-inch round biscuits, similar to ladyfingers, sandwiched together with chocolate pastry cream, brushed with apricot glaze, and completely covered with chocolate fondant.

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Pastilles: These flavored candylike tablets were named for and invented by Giovanni Pastilla, Italian confectioner to Marie de Medici.

Pâte à Panterelli: This early version of what would become Choux pastry is named for Panterelli, a chef for Catherine de Medici who was brought to France from Italy. He had a dough recipe which became known as Pâte à Panterelli. This is the dough that was altered and perfected to become what we now know as choux pastry--and anyone who has ever had a cream puff knows what an important service Panterelli provided to all of mankind.

Pavlova: This lovely and light fruit and meringue dessert is named after the famous Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova (1881–1931), famous Russian ballerina; both Australia and New Zealand have claimed to be the places of invention, though it looks good for Australia in my opinion, as it is their national cake and all. One thing is for sure though: the ballerina only shared a "light as air" similarity with the dessert; I've heard it is unlikely she ever partook. Here's a recipe.

Praline: To clarify: we're talking about the French type of praline here, which is a caramelized almond confection-- Per Wikipedia, it takes its name from César de Choiseul, Count du Plessis-Praslin (1598–1675), by his officer of the table Lassagne, presented at the court of Louis XIII. The caramelized almond confection was transformed at some point in Louisiana to a pecan-based one (probably because of availablility?). Though it's not the authentic French version, Paula Deen's Pecan Praline recipe looks mighty good.

Toronchino Procope: Another Ranhofer confection! This ice cream dessert was named after the Sicilian Francesco Procopio dei Coltelli, whose Café Procope, which opened in Paris in 1686, is cited as the first flavored ice joint in the City of Lights!

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Queen Elizabeth Cake (Canada): What's the story behind this rich date-based cake? According to Practically Edible,

Apparently the recipe might have been sold, for 15 cents a copy, as a fund-raiser during the Second World War, and as Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, was very popular in Canada and rallied people during the war, it may have been named in her honour there. It definitely appeared in war-time cookbooks during the 1940s. It re-appeared in Canadian cookbooks in 1953, for the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, and since then, due to its ease, has been a staple at country fairs since then. It is also known in the UK and in the States, though it's not as ubiquitous there as it is in Canada.

Practically Edible also has a recipe.

Queen Elizabeth Cake (USA): This is a fruit-and-whipped cream cake which was made in the 1950's by Chicago area bakery Deerfield's in honor of a Chicago visit by Queen Elizabeth; it's still one of their popular cakes. It seems to be unrelated to the Queen Mother's cake in flavor, it is nonetheless named for the same queen.

Queen Mother's Cake: A flourless chocolate cake which, according to Wikipedia, was served to Queen Elizabeth (Queen Mother) in the 1950s by her friend Jan Smeterlin (1892–1967), well-known Polish pianist. Smeterlin had acquired the recipe in Austria, and the Queen Mother's fondness for the cake produced its name, via either Smeterlin, food writer Clementine Paddleford or dessert maven Maida Heatter.

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Sally Rand: Another candy bar named for a stripper! You won't find it anymore, but it took its name from the (in)famous Sally Rand.

Reggie Bar: Another now-extinct candy bar, this one was named for Reggie Jackson, the American baseball icon.

Rigó Jancsi: Per Wikipedia, this Viennese cube-shaped chocolate sponge cake and cream pastry is named after the famous Gypsy violinist, Rigó Jancsi (by Hungarian use, Rigó is his last name, Jancsi his first, called literally 'Blackbird Johnny'). Here's a recipe!

Robert E. Lee Cake: This lemon layer cake hails from the American south and is named for American Civil War General Robert E. Lee (1807–1870). Here's a recipe (and here's more of the story)!

Robert Redford Cake: Also called "Better than Robert Redford Cake" or "Better than Sex Cake", I've never quite understood the appeal of this cream cheese n' pudding layered confection, but to each his (or her) own. Here's a recipe.

Strawberries Romanoff: I love the story I found on Epicurious:

When he was the chef at the Carlton Hotel in London, Escoffier created Strawberries Americaine Style — strawberries in orange liqueur, blended into whipped cream and softened ice cream. Little did he know that it would one day be the star dessert of every posh dining spot in California. "Prince" Mike Romanoff "borrowed" the recipe and gave it a new moniker. Soon it was the hottest item on the West Coast. The L.A. Biltmore called it "Strawberries Biltmore." The Palace Hotel in San Francisco served it with anisette and maraschino.

Incidentally, Epicurious also has a recipe.

Rosalinda: Per The International Dictionary of Desserts, Pastries, and Confections: A Comprehensive Guide, this pastry is comprised of

two three-inch round biscuits, similar to ladyfingers, sandwiched together with rosewater or kirsch-scented whipped cream, brushed with apricot glaze, and covered in pink rosewater or kirsch-flavored fondant.

This pastry takes its name from the character Rosalind in Shakespeare's As You Like It.

Runeberg Cake (Also Runebergintorttu / Runebergstårta): This is a cake comprised of a dry almond cake infused with a splash of rum and topped with a ring of icing and a healthy dollop of jam. It was made in honor of the Finnish poet Johan Ludvig Runeberg (1804–1877) by his wife, Fredrika. It's frequently served on February 5th (Runeberg Day, natch!). There is also a variation of this called the Fredrika-pastry. Here's a goodlookin' recipe.

Baby Ruth candy bar: Who is the real Baby Ruth that this chocolate covered caramel-and-nut confection? Per this site there are three theories:

• The bar was named after "Baby" Ruth Cleveland, the first-born daughter of President Groveland Cleveland.
  
• The bar was named after baseball slugger George Herman "Babe" Ruth.
  
• The bar was named for a granddaughter of Mrs. George Williamson, Mrs. Williamson being the wife of the president of the Williamson Candy Company and one of the developers of the "Baby Ruth" bar formula. Explanation #1 is the "official" explanation that has been proffered by the Curtiss Candy Company since the 1920's.
  

Which do you believe? Better grab a Baby Ruth bar while you mull it over, or better yet, why not try out this Baby Ruth Layer Cake?

Sonia Rykiel Chocolate Tart: This tart is described in Dorie Greenspan's Paris Sweets
as "filled with chocolate ganache and topped with a sunburst of sliced bananas, one of Sonia Rykiel's favorite fruits, and, with chocolate, one of the world's best flavor combinations"; it was created by chocolatier Christian Constant in honor of the chocolate-loving clothing designer. Here's an adaptation of the recipe with caramelized bananas.

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Sachertorte: Per What's Cooking America,

Sacher Torte is a famous Viennese cake, probably the most famous chocolate cake of all-time. It consists of chocolate sponge cake cut into three layers, between which apricot jam are thickly spread between the layers and on the top and sides of the cake. The whole cake is then iced with a velvet-like chocolate and served with a side dish of whipped cream.

It was created by pastry chef Franz Sacher (1816-1907) in 1832 for Prince Clemens Lothar Wensel Metternich (1773-1859) of Austria, the Austrian State Chancellor, and it is for him that it is named. However, that's not all there is to the story--read about the drama of the Sachertorte here!
Though this one isn't the traditional cake, I find these Sacher Bites fascinating (and delicious-looking).

Sal-de-Dand Bar: Per Confectionarium, this was the first candy bar named after a stripper – Sally Rand, whose “fan dance” at the 1933-34 Chicago World’s Fair shocked and titillated the nation.

Salambô: Per The International Dictionary of Desserts, Pastries, and Confections: A Comprehensive Guide, this is an "individual round pastry made from a choux pastry puff and filled with kirsch-flavored pastry cream; the top is dipped in hat caramel or iced with gren fondant and sprinkled with shaved chocolate. It was named for the heroine in a novel which was also adapted into an opera."

Queen of Sheba cake: Or, if you're feeling authentic, the French Gâteau de la reine Saba, this is a chocolate cake which takes its name from the ancient African Queen of Sheba, famous guest of King Solomon of Israel. Check it: here's a recipe.

Simnel Cake: Per Wikipedia, this is

a light fruit cake, similar to a Christmas cake, covered in marzipan, and eaten during Lent or at Easter in Great Britain, Ireland and some other countries. A layer of marzipan or almond paste is also baked into the middle of the cake. On the top of the cake, around the edge, are eleven marzipan balls to represent the true disciples of Jesus; Judas is omitted.

and as it goes on to tell us,

A popular legend attributes the invention of the Simnel cake to Lambert Simnel, but this is clearly false since the Simnel cake appears in English literature prior to Lambert's escapades.

Here's a recipe.

Savarin: This is a yeast-raised sweet cake soaked in Kirsch or rum; it is named for the legendary chef Brillat-Savarin. Here's an interesting recipe!

Schillerlocken: These cream-filled pastry rolls are said to have been inspired by the curly hair of German poet Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805). Here's a recipe.

Crepes Suzette: This sweet and boozy crepe confection is undeniably delicious, but who the "Suzette" in question was is a bit of a mystery--as for my favorite story? According to The Old Foodie, "The favoured myth is that she was the mistress of Edward, Prince of Wales (the future Edward VII), although he vehemently denied knowing anyone by that name (surprise! surprise!)." Here's a recipe.

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Talleyrand: This cherry-and-booze dish is named for epicurean French statesman Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord (1754–1838). An influential negotiator at the Congress of Vienna; Antonin Câreme worked for him for a time, and Talleyrand was instrumental in furthering his career; hence the bevy of dishes named after him. Here's a recipe.

Tarte Tatin: This upside-down tart can be made with a variety of different fillings; the style is sometimes called à la Demoiselles Tatin, after the two sisters who are said to have invented it, Stephine Tatin (1838–1917) and Caroline Tatin (1847–1911), who ran the Hotel Tatin in Lamotte Beuvron, France. As lore has it, Stephine allegedly invented the upside-down tart accidentally in the fall of 1898. The pastry in fact may be much older, but they gave it a name. Here's a recipe.

Shirley Temple: Per Wikipedia, A Shirley Temple (also known as a Grenadine Lemonade) is a non-alcoholic mixed drink made with ginger ale or Sprite or 7 Up and grenadine syrup garnished with maraschino cherries. The Royal Hawaiian Hotel at Waikīkī in Honolulu, Hawaii claims to have invented the Shirley Temple cocktail in the 1930s; it was named for the famous child actress Shirley Temple, who often visited the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. Here's a recipe.

Alice B Toklas Brownies: The connection is legitimate, if tenuous. Her so-called "autobiography" had actually been largely written by Toklas' lifelong companion, Gertrude Stein, who died before its completion. According to this article, "With the deadline only a few months away, Toklas, then in her mid-70s, found herself half a book shy. So she began soliciting recipes from her artsy friends"--one of which was Brion Gysin's recipe for "Haschich Fudge". While the editors stateside removed the recipe, the British version didn't, and the media blitz began. An in a case of "you can't unring that bell", her name became associated with cannabis foods, most famously "Alice B. Toklas brownies" (or "Alice Toke-less" brownies) forever and ever amen.

Tootsie Rolls: To tell you the truth, I've never been exactly sure what Tootsie Rolls are, but they sure are sweet. They're named for Clara "Tootsie" Hirshfield, the small daughter of Leo Hirshfield, developer of the first paper-wrapped penny candy, in New York in 1896. Hey, if you have any leftover Tootsie Rolls from Halloween, why not try this recipe?

Tortoni or Biscuit Tortoni: This is a type of ice cream made with eggs and heavy cream, often containing chopped cherries or topped with minced almonds or crumbled macaroons. It is named for a gentleman named Tortoni, who is said to have invented the dish while working at the Parisian eatery Café Velloni. Later on he bought the place and renamed it the Café Tortoni. Here's a recipe.

Truman Pudding: Also called Bess Truman's Ozark Pudding, this fruit-and-nut pudding is served warm; it is said to have been one of Harry Truman's favorite recipes from wife Bess Truman's baking repertoire. Here's a recipe.

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Victoria Sponge or Sandwich Cake: This cake, which combines light sponge cake with cream and fruit, is named for Queen Victoria (1819–1901). Apparently, according to Wikipedia, many other dishes are named for the British Queen, including sole, eggs, salad, a garnish, several sauces, a cherry spice cake, a bombe, small tarts, and more. Here's a Victoria Sponge Cake recipe.

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Pears Wanamaker (also called poires Wanamaker): The only reference I could find to this dish was in a 1971 issue of New York Magazine! It is said that the dish was likely named for the Philadelphia merchant family Wanamaker, particularly the son Rodman Wanamaker (1863–1928) seems most likely to be the inspiration for this dish; he went to Paris in 1889 to oversee the Paris branch of their department store. When he returned to the U.S. in 1899, he kept his Paris home and contacts (and pear recipes?).

Washington Pie: A cream pie which takes its name from George Washington--you know, that guy. Here's a recipe!

Wibele: These pastries are made of egg white, vanilla sugar, flour and confectioners' sugar and shaped like figure-eights; they are named after Jakob Christian Carl Wibel, who is said to have invented it in 1763 in Langenburg, Germany. If you happen to be in Germany, it looks like you could probably get some wibele here!

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Zserbo: Per Manna Cafe, Emil Gerbeaud (Zserbo) arrived in Budapest from Paris in 1882. The signature four-layer pastry in his eponymous café, which still remains in Vörösmarty Square, is made with apricot (barak) and walnut (dios) fillings and a rich chocolate icing on top.

Sweet Bounty: Discovering the Art of the Venetian Table with Cake Gumshoe Megan

CakeSpy Note: Cake Gumshoe Megan thought she’d seen it all when it came to wedding desserts, but recently she was pleasantly surprised by what can only be described as a sugar smorgasbord.

The backstory: Over the weekend I attended my college roommate’s wedding. With seven bridesmaids, she was peppered with questions all throughout the rehearsal dinner, and most of mine revolved around the food. I’ve been to weddings with good, bad and no food, so I’m always curious what lies ahead.

I needn’t have worried. Beyond the endless finger foods the bridal party ate all day, the cocktail hour - which served more food than some people’s receptions - and then her actual reception, I should have been stuffed to the gills by the time dessert (literally) rolled around. And I actually was, but when the wait staff raced the loaded-down tables onto the dance floor, I had to make room.

Discovering the Venetian Hour: Whether you call it a Viennese or Venetian Hour, the point is decadence. Wikipedia defines a Venetian Hour as a Sicilian tradition in which the bride and groom display “a dazzling array of pastries, fruits, coffees, cakes, presented in great quantity with much celebration.” That’s a big ten-four. The dessert table at my friend’s wedding was a large oval made up of at least eight tables (I was too stunned to count) and involved pyrotechnics (see above photo).

We had our choice between fresh fruit kabobs and a chocolate fountain, an ice cream sundae bar featuring our choice of ice cream flavors as well as five different toppings and whipped cream and/or hot fudge, and then there were the cakes and cookies – tiramisu, diner-style strawberry shortcake, Black Forest, Napoleon, sfogliatelle, zeppole, Italian cookies…I could go on, but the liqueur shots taken out of edible (and yummy) chocolate thimbles made my memory a little fuzzy. I am absolutely not ashamed to admit my groomsman and I circled the tables twice!

Coming to America: While researching this delightful and heretofore unknown tradition, I realized it existed in small pockets of the US in another form. Brought to America by Italians and Eastern Europeans immigrants who settled into the industrial areas of northeastern Ohio and the coalmines of western Pennsylvania, it morphed into the cookie table, a common feature at weddings, showers, birthdays and graduations there.

For the wedding cookie table, the cookies are traditionally prepared by the bride’s female relatives. Each woman can be responsible for up to seven dozen cookies, depending on how many people participate. Communal baking also serves as a time for the women to catch up on each others’ lives.

In a very pleasant turn of events, researching this custom opened my eyes to the presence of it in my own childhood. I have relatives in central Pennsylvania, and every wedding I attended with that part of the family involved a cookie table. I thought it was just my aunt over-baking! I made so many trips to that table, hiding the cookies in my hand so my parents wouldn’t see how much I ate. And my aunt was always sending relatives home after the receptions with napkin-covered plates heaped with cookies of all flavors and types.

The final word: I’ve reached an age where my friends are starting to get married, so I’m going to do my part to bring this tradition to the mainstream. As far as I’m concerned, the more dessert, the better!

Chow Bella: What Kind of Sweets Do Italians Eat?

When I think of Italian sweets, I immediately think of the Little Italy-style bakery, with rows of cookies by the pound, breads stacked in the back, and various cakes and pastries out front. But what kind of sweets do Italians--you know, in actual Italy--really favor? While conversing with Cake Gumshoe Elisa, who is based in Italy, while she noted that "Italy has 20 regions and everyone has its particular baked goods", she dished up some of the things you might expect to see at her Italian dessert table; I've put together a little explanation of what they are (with a little help from Wikipedia). 

CakeSpy Note: Please note, however, that the photos are mostly from my (American) archives, so they should be viewed as a mere reference and might not necessarily look the way they would in Italy!

Amaretti: This little cookie is a holiday tradition in Italy (and beyond) which has a delightful story: "In the early 1700s, a Milanese bishop or cardinal surprised the town of Saronno with a visit. A young couple, residents of the town, welcomed him and paid tribute with an original confection: on the spur of the moment, they had baked biscuits made of sugar, egg whites, and crushed apricot kernels or almonds. These so pleased the visiting bishop that he blessed the two with a happy and lifelong marriage, resulting in the preservation of the secret recipe over many generations."

Brutti ma Buoni: Literally translated as "ugly but good", these craggy little cookies are made using a mixture of nuts, egg whites, liqueur, and a bit of cocoa . You can find a recipe from Mario Batali here.

Cannolo alla Siciliana: What we would call a cannoli here in the US (as in, "leave the gun, take the..."). These little sweeties consist of tube-shaped shells of fried pastry dough, filled with a sweet, creamy filling usually containing ricotta cheese (or alternatively, but less traditionally, sweetened Mascarpone) blended with some combination of vanilla, chocolate, pistachio, Marsala wine, rosewater or other flavorings.

 Cassata: The cassata siciliana consists of round sponge cake moistened with fruit juices or liqueur and layered with ricotta cheese, candied peel, and a chocolate or vanilla filling similar to cannoli cream. It is covered with a shell of marzipan, pink and green pastel colored icing, and decorative designs. The cassata is finally topped with candied fruit depicting cherries and slices of citrus fruit characteristic of Sicily. 

Crostata: A crostata is an Italian baked dessert tart, and a form of pie. It is traditionally prepared by folding the edges of the dough over the top of the jam/marmalade filling, creating a more "rough" look, rather than a uniform, circular shape and topped with various jams, pastry cream or fresh fruit. A typical central Italian variety replaces jam with ricotta mixed with sugar, cocoa or pieces of chocolate and anisetta; this is called crostata di ricotta. In terms of recipes, doesn't this one from Herbivoracious sound fantastic?

Pandoro (or pan d'oro): This one is fairly similar to panettone in that it is a traditional Italian sweet yeast bread, most popular around Christmas and New Year. What defines it? Well, it is generally more cakey and less fruit-heavy than panettone, and it is traditionally shaped like a frustum with an 8 pointed-star section. And--deliciously enough--"Modern taste sometimes calls for Pandoro to have a hole cut into its bottom and a part of the soft interior to be removed, the cavity is then filled with chantilly cream or vanilla gelato. Cream or gelato can be served as a garnish to pandoro slices." You can find a recipe here.

Panettone: This is another traditional holiday treat. Simply put, it's "a soft, north Italian yeast brioche with candied fruit, usually prepared for Christmas"--but it's steeped in tradition and lore which you can read about here, if you're so inclined; you can find a recipe here.

Tiramisù: This treat is not baked, but it sure is delicious, made of savoiardi (otherwise known as lady finger biscuits) dipped in espresso or strong coffee, layered with a whipped mixture of egg yolks, mascarpone, and sugar, and topped with cocoa.

Butter Me Up: The Famous St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake

Photos and recipe c/o CakeSpy buddy Kerry of Lollicakes.

I first learned of the existence of the St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake a while back during the Regional Specialties cake poll. The name alone had me hooked: I had to know more.

But first things first: what is a Gooey Butter Cake, this food that the St. Louis Convention & Visitors Commission calls "one of St. Louis' popular, quirky foods"? While variations exist, it seems that the most important aspects are a bottom layer of buttery yellow cake and a and a top layer of...well, gooiness: but depending on who you ask, the top layer will consist of either egg and cream cheese, or butter and sugar. But in general, it is served as a coffee cake and not as a dessert cake.

As it turns out though, the foundation of the cake's story is about as soft as its gooey innards: there are varying accounts of who invented it and when.

Photo credit: Jen V., CakeSpy reader

According to Wikipedia, a legend about the cake's origin is included in Saint Louis Days...Saint Louis Nights, a cookbook published in the mid-1990s by the Junior League of St. Louis:

The cake was supposedly first made by accident in the 1930s by a St. Louis-area German American baker who was trying to make regular cake batter but reversed the proportions of sugar and flour.

But then again, according to What's Cooking America, at least two families take credit for the cake. The first is the Danzer family:

In late 1942 or early 1943, Johnny Hoffman of St. Louis Pastries Bakery was working on a Saturday and made what eventually turned out to be Gooey Butter Cake. You're right, it was a mistake! He subsequently called Herman Danzer, my dad, and told him he thought he may have something and asked to come to my dad's shop on Spring & Gravois to see if they could duplicate it.

They worked all Saturday, and through many trials and errors got it pretty good. The final batch they made, my dad suggested they add glycerin to get it really gooey. It worked - whereupon my mom, Melba Danzer, came into the shop from the store to see what these two guys were doing. When she tried it she said "this sure is gooey" subsequently, the name.

And then there's the Koppe family:

My father, John Koppe, a St. Louis baker, also developed the Gooey Butter Cake in the early 1940s...he owned and operated Koppe Bakery during World War II on California and Arsenal Streets in South St. Louis. His shop was located on the corner of two major bus lines, so people who were transferring would often stop in while waiting for their bus.

The Gooey Butter Cake was a smash hit with customers. The lines of customers spilled out the door and around the block. This cake was very gooey, rich, and exceptionally delicious! I remember that the goody butter cake is best described as very "GOOEY." You could eat it with a spoon! The top was sprinkled with powdered sugar and the edge was slightly crispy to hold it together - almost like a pudding. It was baked in a square shape and, of course, was light colored, like butter.

But while the cake's origins may be up in the air, one thing's for sure: it's a St. Louis institution. One company, Gooey Louie, specializes in a variety of takes on the Gooey Butter cake, including a variety of different flavors (including a "design-your-own-flavor" feature) as well as individual-serving cakes and tiny "Gooey Butter Bites". Around the St. Louis area it's a common cake to find in bakeries. Though not as common elsewhere, at least one savvy Cake Gumshoe sighted a version of it in a Seattle area Safeway!

And happily, another Cake Gumshoe, Kerry of Lollicakes, was brave enough to try out the recipe to see for herself. Here's the recipe she used:

The Best St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake Recipe

Ingredients:

• 1 box yellow cake mix with pudding in the mix (Pillsbury works best) 
• 4 extra large eggs 
• 1 stick melted butter 
• Pure vanilla extract 
• 1 8 oz. package cream cheese 
• 1 box powdered sugar (3 1/2 cups)
• Crisco or pam for greasing pan

Equipment:

• 9 X 13 Pan 
• Mixer 

Directions:

BUTTER CAKE MIXTURE:

1. Get 9 x13 pan and grease with Crisco on the bottom and all sides. 
2. Put yellow cake mix in mixing bowl. DO NOT FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS ON THE CAKE BOX. Add 2 extra large eggs, 1 stick of melted butter in microwave about 35 seconds, and 1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract. Mix together in mixer. Batter will have a very most feel to it. Take cake batter and spread evenly through 9 x 13 pan so it evenly covers the bottom of the pan. 
3. Clean off mixers and mixing bowl. 

GOOEY MIXTURE:

1. Melt cream cheese in microwave about 45-50 seconds. 
2. Put 3/4 of the powdered sugar in mixing bowl setting aside about 1/4 of the box for topping to sprinkle on after the cake is baked and cooled. In mixer add 3/4 powdered sugar, melted cream cheese, and 2 extra large eggs. Mix together in mixer. This will have a very GOOEY consistency as this is the gooey part of the cake. Take the Gooey mixture and layer on top of the cake batter mixture in pan. 

COOKING INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Here at sea level we bake it at 350 for 30-40 minutes or until the top of the cake is browned (Note: Kerry baked hers for 35 minutes and thought it was perhaps slightly over-baked). You want to make sure the gooey mixture on top of the cake is not too gooey otherwise it will be like a liquid. It is okay if the edges are brown and the top of the cake is lightly browned as well. 
2. Once cooked remove from oven and let cool about two hours before cutting and adding remaining powdered sugar. Add remaining powdered sugar to coat/cover top of cake, cut like brownies and serve. 

Plymouth Rocks: The Story of the Jumble for Serious Eats

Have you ever been curious about what the pilgrims ate on the Mayflower? 

Well, you're in for a treat: check out the writeup I did for Serious Eats about the Jumble, one of the first cookies that made it over to the US from the old world. Jumbles originally gained popularity because of the fact that they kept amazingly well on sea voyages (although undoubtedly they became pretty dense and rocklike by the end of the trip!). These days they've evolved into a soft, moist drop cookie with unlimited flavor variations. You can more about one of our nation's oldest cookies--as well as get a delicious recipe for a soft, spicy, frosted version (complete with mini candy rocks as a shout-out to Plymouth Rock!), on Serious Eats!

Edi-Mology: Cake

Edi-mology is a new featurette on CakeSpy, designed to explore the etymology and meanings of the terminology behind the baked goods we all love so much. One thing is for sure: this hunger for knowledge can sure give you an appetite for baked goods!

Today's lesson: CAKE

Definition:

Cake: [keyk] noun a sweet, baked, breadlike food, made with or without shortening, and usually containing flour, sugar, baking powder or soda, eggs, and liquid flavoring. (source: dictionary.com)

Etymology: 

This sweet term came to us circa the year 1230 from Old Norse kaka "cake," from the West Germanic "kokon-", from the Proto-Indo-European base "gag-" or "gog-", which meant "something round, lump of something." 

Surprise, surprise: Cake is not related to the Latin coquere ("to cook") as formerly supposed. Replaced its Olde English cognate (cognate = two words that have a common origin), coecel. 

Originally (until c.1420) it meant "a flat, round loaf of bread." (source: etymoline.com)

Of course, if you're wondering how it made the leap from referring to a flat, round loaf of bread to the delicious confection that we call cake today, here's a little excerpt from Foodtimeline.org:

According to the food historians, the precursors of modern cakes (round ones with icing) were first baked in Europe sometime in the mid-17th century. This is due to primarily to advances in technology (more reliable ovens, manufacture/availability of food molds) and ingredient availability (refined sugar)....The first icing were usually a boiled composition of the finest available sugar, egg whites and [sometimes] flavorings...It was not until the middle of the 19th century that cake as we know it today (made with extra refined white flour and baking powder instead of yeast) arrived on the scene...Butter-cream frostings (using butter, cream, confectioners [powdered] sugar and flavorings) began replacing traditional boiled icings in first few decades 20th century. In France, Antonin Careme [1784-1833] is considered THE premier historic chef of the modern pastry/cake world. You will find references to him in French culinary history books.

(Note: if you're interested in more Cake Lore, you might also want to check out Leslie F. Miller's book Let Me Eat Cake) 

First known publication: 

"What man, I trow ye raue, Wolde ye bothe eate your cake and haue your cake?" ["The Proverbs & Epigrams of John Heywood," 1562] (source: etymonline.com)

Idioms: 

A piece of cake: something easily done: She thought her first solo flight was a piece of cake.
Take the cake: a. to surpass all others, esp. in some undesirable quality; be extraordinary or unusual: His arrogance takes the cake.
b. to win first prize.

Let them eat cake: this is from Rousseau's "Confessions," in reference to an incident c.1740, when it was already proverbial, long before Marie Antoinette. The "cake" in question was not a confection, but a poor man's food. (source for these idioms: etymonline.com)

(CakeSpy Tip: If you're into idioms, bet you'll love Chocolate & Zucchini's "Edible Idiom" series!)