It’s Valentine’s Day, and because we at BIK love our readers, we made you a cupcake recipe!  You can make these baby cakes for your very own babycakes or anyone else you love (such as your gals at BIK!).  It started as a plan to replicate this recipe from Martha Stewart Living and morphed into Orange-Almond Cupcakes with Almond Buttercream, with the icing swiped from a Gourmet macaroon recipe.  This cupcake recipe takes its flavor from almonds and orange zest, making a delicately scented, totally delicious cake.  The ground almonds enrich the batter and the orange adds a fresh, fruity note. (You can leave the ground almonds out, just bump the flour back up to 1½ cups).

Taking a page from wedding cakes, I brushed the cupcakes with melted orange marmalade before icing them, but I really wish I had thought to use amaretto instead. Doesn’t that sound naughty? I think you should definitely do that! And the jam makes spreading the icing a little more of a pain in the arse, but I think amaretto would not because the cake would absorb it more readily. But do whatever you like. The marmalade was delicious and totally worth doing.

About the icing: It is a little high-maintenance.  The BIK gals know a thing or two about high-maintenance, and we wholeheartedly believe it is not a bad thing.  Now, you could surely throw any old icing on here and it would be fine.  BUT – if you were to learn only one high-maintenance confection technique in the whole world, I think I would recommend this one.  It’s a Swiss buttercream, and it’s not technically difficult, just more time consuming than tossing a little butter and powdered sugar together.  The way it works is you basically make a meringue that looks an awful lot like Fluff (go, Fluffernutters!). It’s heated over simmering water to dissolve the sugar.  Then, you beat butter in slowly until it all comes together in a silky, luscious mound. If you’re wary of salmonella, I guess you should be wary of this recipe, as the egg whites are heated but not enough to kill all the shady stuff.  A number of icings use egg whites in various ways.  If you’ve ever made Italian buttercream, that is a close relative of Swiss buttercream.

Why go to all that trouble?  This is restaurant icing — the silky, buttery confection that makes bakery cakes special. It’s smooth, not-too-sweet and totally addictive. Luckily, the recipe makes more than you need for the cupcakes. It freezes well, but I advise just keeping it in the fridge and spreading on graham crackers whenever the mood strikes (aka: all the time).  You don’t even really need a cupcake, just make up a bowl, grab a spoon and snuggle up with “When Harry Met Sally.”  That’s actually kind of my ideal Valentine’s Day.  But, if you’d like to whip up a proper dessert, make the cupcakes, too, sprinkle with almonds, and brace yourself for the flood of marriage proposals.  Happy V-Day, loves!

Orange-Almond Cupcakes

Loosely adapted from Martha Stewart Living

½ stick unsalted butter, room temperature

1 cup granulated sugar

2 large eggs

½ teaspoon almond extract

½ teaspoon vanilla extract

Zest of one orange, finely grated

1 ¼ cups plus 2 tablespoons cake flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

½ cup ground almonds (processed in food processor until sandy)

½ cup whole milk (use skim if you like)

½ cup orange marmalade melted, or amaretto (about 1/3 cup)

Heat oven to 350. Line a 12-cup muffin pan with paper liners. In small bowl, combine flour, salt, baking powder and ground almonds. Using an electric mixer, beat butter and sugar on medium speed until fluffy and well combined. Beat in eggs, one at a time, extracts and orange zest. Beat in flour mixture, then milk, stopping when well combined. Divide batter among muffin cups and bake 15-17 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean.

Brush with marmalade or amaretto, letting liquid soak into cakes for a few minutes, then spread with Almond Buttercream Icing.

Almond Buttercream Icing

Hardly at all adapted from Gourmet, but with notes and encouragement from BIK

2 large egg whites

½ cup granulated sugar

1/8 teaspoon salt

2 sticks unsalted butter

¼ teaspoon vanilla extract

¼ teaspoon almond extract

½ cup sliced almonds

Place clean bowl from electric mixer over a pot of barely simmering water, whatever size pot works with your bowl.  Don’t let the bottom of the bowl touch the water.  If you do not have a stand mixer, you can use a hand mixer, just prepare for a workout.  Also, if using a hand mixer, use beaters, not whisk attachment.  In bowl over simmering water, whisk whites, sugar and salt without stopping until mixture is quite warm and sugar is dissolved. It should look white and frothy.

Place bowl in mixer and beat with whisk attachment (only if using stand mixer) and whip at medium-high speed until cooled and whites hold stiff, glossy peaks. This can take a long time, so don’t give up. You’re getting close when it gets thick, sticky and shiny. It looks a lot like paint. Keep going.

Once you’ve achieved stiff peaks (this took me a good 10 minutes), add butter one piece at a time. The mixture will probably break and look grainy, but keep going. Beat well after each addition, and after the last of the butter is added. Add extracts and keep going. Don’t stop beating (except to scrape down the bowl) until it comes back together and makes a smooth, spreadable icing. It’ll all be worthwhile. Then spread it on the cupcakes, sprinkle with almonds and enjoy the fruits of your labor.

OK, BIK friends, I’m sure we can all agree that pretty much anything (questionable company, food, work, you-know-what) is better after a few glasses of wine. But you know what is not better? Lemon cake. I found out the hard way, trying to squeeze one more recipe into a day jam-packed with work, socializing, exercise (we’ve been eating a LOT, after all – these recipes require numerous trials, people!) and other stuff. Other tipsy people dance on tables. I bake lemon cake.

Why lemon cake? Well, it was our Nana’s birthday last week and it’s her recipe.* And she is awesome, as is her lemon cake. If Nana had a computer and knew what this whole interwebs thing was all about, we like to think she would be a BIK kind of gal (although we would surely hear a word or two about our potty mouths). She is smart, sassy and loves to bake. She always has something sweet to plop in front of us when we visit, and it’s often her beautiful and easy English lemon cake. It’s interesting enough to make someone feel special, yet basic enough that you can toss it together in no time. It’s a rich, sweet cake, sort of like a pound cake, drizzled with a tart lemon glaze. Addictive.

So, about my tipsy version. I’m still not sure what I did wrong. Several things, probably. But it yielded completely flat, unphotogenic, crispy (not burnt, just literally crispy … ?), dense, etc. … lemon cake. Anyway, because I love you THAT much, I made another one. Make this for breakfast, to bring to a potluck, to serve for dessert, to eat in your bed while watching trashy TV, anything! If you’re feeling lazy, I can respect that – I won’t make you feel guilty about not using fresh lemon juice. I have a green and yellow bottle in my fridge, too. But I do hope you use the lemon zest in the topping. That’s where the real tartness comes from, and it’s sooooooo nice to balance out the cake’s richness.

*Actually we don’t know where the recipe comes from besides Nana’s recipe box. If this looks like something you have seen, please let us know so we can credit the source.

Nana’s English Lemon Cake

Cake:

1 cup (2 sticks) softened butter

1 cup sugar

2 eggs

1 ¼ cups flour

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ cup milk

Glaze:

1/3 cup sugar

1/3 cup lemon juice

3 teaspoons lemon zest

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Butter or coat a 9-inch loaf pan with cooking spray. In a small bowl, stir together flour, salt and baking powder. In a medium bowl, cream together butter and sugar until pale and smooth. You can use an electric mixer, although I have also done this by hand successfully. Add eggs one at a time, beating after each addition. Stir in about one-third of dry ingredients, then beat in half the milk (don’t get all crazy with measuring, just alternate dry and wet ingredients). Repeat until all milk and dry ingredients have been incorporated. Pour into pan and place in oven. Bake about 70 minutes, or until tester inserted into center comes out clean.

While cake is baking, stir together sugar, lemon juice and zest over medium heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until syrup simmers and sugar is dissolved. Set aside.

When cake is finished, leave it in the pan and pour syrup over hot cake slowly. Let cake cool in pan (for maximum glaze absorption). This cake is best at room temperature.

Alright, gang, I am not going to beat around the bush. Historically speaking, I’ve had an ambivalent relationship with pears.  I have always felt like it’s way too hard to get a decent pear; usually they are mushy, mealy or way too hard.  But seriously, when I have scouted a ripe one, after slurping the pear juice while trying to keep the pear from jumping out of my hands like live trout, I am usually left feeling like, meh, why did I work so hard for a whole-lotta NO flavor?

So, this fall when some friends added pear cognac, actually Belle de Brillet to be specific, to a dangerously yummy drink I was pleasantly surprised!  The drink was delightful and really tasted pear-y.  As a side note Belle de Brillet is some sweetass, tasty nectar that you should totally enjoy. I think there are something like 40 pears crammed into one tiny bottle, but get ready to pay some big $$, as its almost 50 bucks for 750 ml.  Drinking aside, this cognac reminded me that although sometimes hard to find, pears can have a light, delicate flavor that I shouldn’t just write off.  Also, if I am keeping it upfront, which I try to do, I AM a pear!  I’ve got some curve on my lower half…so, why am I such a hater?  OK, so what I am really trying to say is I’m committed to embracing pears in all their curvy, fleshy, round-bottom goodness.

This leads me to a beautiful dessert I made last weekend.  Its from Gourmet, found on epicurious, wait for it….wait….oh yess….Caramelized Upside-Down Pear Tart.  It’s a rustic tart that is literally baked in a frying pan. Baking can’t get much more rustic than that. The recipe instructs you to heat butter and sugar in a large pan, then arrange the halved and cored pears in the pan, sprinkle some cinnamon and wait for the sugar to become all golden, bubbly and perfect!  Then you tuck your round, curvy pears under a pastry dough blanket of sorts, then bake.  After baking, the trickiest part is flipping the tart over, so I did my best by channeling Julia: I strapped on some courage and flipped my tart pretty nicely.

My only comments on this recipe are 1: resist any urges to overspice the pears with cloves, nutmeg and other wintertime flavors, they are perfect simply bathed in butter and sugar, and 2: you may only need to let your pears caramelize for less than 10 minutes, depending on your stove and how well your pan holds heat.

If you enjoy pears, pear shapes or curves in general, take this tart for a spin:

http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Carmelized-Upside-Down-Pear-Tart-108779

Well, guys, J&B are headed back to their kitchen in the Great White North, leaving me with a freezer of bagels, croissants and more — just a little teaser for you. We will post excessive details toute suite!

It’s of course a little sad around these parts, but I’m sure I will bury myself in a culinary project shortly to spruce things up. First up is tweaking the croissants we spent our weekend on before we try to impose the whole dramatic, kitchen-trashing process on you. We seem to have had a little rising issue, little being the operative word. Our efforts yielded a whole bunch of sublime yet super tiny pastries.

I know! Looks good, right? Totally — I am eating one right now (my sis did just leave, after all! Must self-soothe). But they didn’t rise up into the fluffy layers they should have. So, I will soon launch back into the insanity and add more yeast.

So, no recipe for you yet. But in the meantime here’s a personal fave for an easy (not “easy” but actually easy) wintertime dessert that looks pretty, too. Sliced apples layered across straight-from-the-freezer puff pastry. Straight from Bon Appetit.

This one doesn’t keep well, so just plow through it. I’d say by the second night it’s still edible if you crisp in the oven. Polish it off then with a little ice cream if that’s how you roll.

And one last bit of news: Commenting at BIK is open for business!

Well, you’ve probably never heard of bitchinkitchen before today (Hi, Mom!), but things have been humming all week at the bitchinkitchen corporate southern headquarters. The whole team is in one place for a week, so we took things way over the top so we could start out with a splash. We’ve made some crazy shit, so strap on your seatbelts, friends. But, let’s ease into our bitchy fellowship, shall we? We’ll start with a little something light.

After a relatively civilized New Years Eve (necessary after an uncivilized start to the week involving wine, cigarettes and trash talk), and sleeping only until 10:45, coffee was the only thing we could stomach after our indulgent late-night dinner.  A few hours into the morning we kicked things off with Poached Pears and Spiced Caramel Sauce, a fragrant but not-too-naughty way to ring in the new year.

So, we think this recipe is pretty flexible. We were too lazy to work hard for cardamom pods called for in the original recipe (the closest grocery store was out), so we changed up the spicing and went with star anise. You could totally skip that. Star anise = not great for the budget. Just add more cinnamon sticks, skip it altogether or whatever you want. Or try some cardamom. Anyway, we also changed up the pear/poaching quantities to suit our needs because poaching liquids are nothing if not flexible. So, experiment it up, and let us know what works.  With the caramel, it may look intimidating if you haven’t made it before, but it’s not hard. The only thing to keep in mind is you need to be careful around the hot, melted sugar. And the longer you cook it, the toastier the sauce will get, but we found that it quickly leaps from toasty to burned. So, although the original recipe suggested cooking it for about 10 min, we say more like five to seven.

Poached Pears and Spiced Caramel Sauce:

Adapted from Gourmet

For pears:

2 oranges

1 lemon, halved

4 cups water

1 cup granulated sugar

4 cups water

2 cinnamon sticks

2 star anise

3-4 firm Anjou pears, firm but ripe*

For caramel:

½ cup granulated sugar

¼ cup brown sugar

1 ½ cups heavy cream

2 cinnamon sticks

3 star anise

4 cloves

*The number of pears really depends on the depth vs. width of your pot. Basically, you just want to put enough in there that they are mostly submerged (although they do float) but your pot is not boiling over. For us, three large or four medium pears worked well in a three-quart pot.

First, poach the pears. Peel zest off oranges with a vegetable peeler, being careful not to cut too deeply into white pith (it’s bitter!) Squeeze juice from oranges into medium pot, ours was three-quarts. Add halved lemon, squeezing juice in if you like. Add 1 cup sugar, 4 cups water and the poaching spices. Peel pears, leaving the stems attached and place them in the liquid. Bring to slow boil, then reduce to simmer for 20 to 30 minutes, turning pears occasionally. Pay attention to their firmness, as this is how you’ll know they’re done. You want to be able to slice through them smoothly with a butter knife, so they should stay nice and pear-shaped (we love a good pear shape), but soften to a nice buttery consistency.

While the pears are enjoying their steamy bath, make the caramel. Spread granulated sugar on the bottom of a saucepan and crumble the brown sugar over the top. Resist the urge to mess with it, the sugar needs to melt here, and leaving it alone is the way to do it. Once the sugar is mostly melted, you can stir it with a fork, wooden spoon or swirl it a bit in the pan until it is completely melted. Be careful here, the sugar is super hot at this point! Slowly pour cream and spices into the pot and enjoy the drama – the sugar will seize up and the cream with bubble and steam. Just go with it, being careful to avoid splatters, and stir until the sugar remelts into a smooth, tawny sauce and reduces a bit, five to seven minutes. It should smell nice and toasty and be a medium brown when it’s finished. Take a look at our pics to see what you’re looking for. Then pour the sauce into a heatproof bowl or other vessel through a sieve and cool to room temp.

To assemble, place pears in a rimmed dish to capture the liquid, and drizzle caramel over the top. You could top with chopped, toasted nuts if you like, but it’s also perfect as is.

For the original recipe- head to epicurious:

http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Poached-Pears-with-Spiced-Caramel-Sauce-103207