Tuesday, August 28, 2012

This is a Test. Repeat: This is Only a Test.

When I first started baking frequently, it was generally an unplanned late night affair, a somewhat compulsive indulgence that I justified (easily) by telling myself that I just couldn't buy the same caliber of baked goods at the grocery store, and that the stuff I was making was better for me.  Both true statements, but I'm not sure why I felt obligated and/or compelled to justify it in the first place.  There are worse things a person could be staying up late to do.  Night time is my productive time.  It was also, during those first couple years of this relationship with baking, the only time I was ever at home.  Sleep was something of a necessary irritant that would take control of my night anywhere between 1 and 3AM.  If I made it past 3, then I would get a second wind and usually not sleep more than 2 hours.  Luckily the timer on my stove was loud and shrill.  When I fell asleep on the floor while waiting those 23 minutes to rotate the pound cake, it woke me up every time.

Now, it's a little different when I don my Mad Baking Scientist hat.  There is moisture in my kitchen, for one thing.  THAT has been an interesting component to work with.  Yeasted cakes and breads actually rise!  I have access to (hallelujah and praise be!) a gas stove, so things bake evenly and consistently!  My schedule is more free, so I theoretically have more time for baking and less of a need to jam it in after an already over full day.  That's the idea, anyway.  My obligations are more diverse, meaning that with more time in the day, it's full of different things, but still very full.

Also, perhaps most profound, there is another person whom that timer might wake up.   And the timer in my kitchen now, while not as piercing as the old one, is equipped with a "repeat until you pay attention" mechanism that makes late night baking an affair riddled with cringing and tip-toed running.  So, the upshot is that I do my baking at more reasonable hours, in a more reasonable fashion, and it's a more built in part of my week.  Sounds great, right?  It is, for the most part.  But I am still getting used to it.  Those late nights where I would spontaneously get out of bed (jump, actually) to try some random recipe because the obligatory 20 minute attempt at sleep had failed had a sort of magic to them.  Magical is not a word to describe the feeling I generally had the next morning, however.

My writing had a similar crammed-into-the-day-but-kind-of-a-special-thing role in my life as well.  I'd sit at my table bleary-eyed, sometimes while some creation was in the oven, in my flour-covered clothing and write whatever came out.  If the prose wasn't working so good, I'd write a poem.  I'd make lists.  It was a very organic experience, very private, kind of messy, and certainly not one accompanied by any kind of pomp and circumstance or official-ness.   When I decided to really try to write, after I moved and generally changed every piece of my life, I figured I should try to make something official out of it:  I put on official clothes that made me feel good, packed up my books and 46 pound laptop, and went to a cafe, making an afternoon of it.

Today, after cleaning and gardening and eating hot dogs and playing with the dog, it was time to write.  I was bemoaning the fact that I "had to" get on some nice clothes and trek to the cafe carrying this dumb heavy laptop to get coffee I didn't even feel like drinking (!?!?) and maybe have an inspiration or maybe just babble to the keyboard.  I wanted to sip wine and stay filthy, thanks very much.  Then I remembered that I'm in charge.

So here I sit, testing out how this works, this doing of things how I used to do them when I didn't have all this time to over-orchestrate them.  I have a hunch it'll work just fine.  Sometimes it's good to try all the other methods though, just so you can appreciate what works, and pay it the respect it deserves, and then get on to doing instead of waiting to do.

Who knows?  Tonight I might bake late if I feel the yen, just to see if I can still swing it.  I have a hunch that'll work too.  I'll just have to get used to falling asleep on vinyl tile instead of cushy carpet while I wait those 23 minutes to rotate my pound cake.



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Grain Free Pound Cake - good for your tummy!
Adapted from my Patriotic Pound Cake recipe (which contains rice flour)

Preheat your oven to 350.
Grease a loaf pan with shortening or neutral tasting oil.

1/4 C. almond meal
1/2 C. coconut flour
1/4 C. potato starch
1/4 C. arrowroot (or cornstarch)
1/4 C. sorghum (sorghum is a seed, so not technically a grain)
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp guar gum, if you have it
scant 1 C. sugar
2 eggs
slightly overflowing 1/2 cup Kefir or buttermilk (or heavy cream)
1 stick unsalted butter (8 TBSP), melted and allowed to cool for a few minutes
1 TBSP vanilla extract

Mix together the dry ingredients except the sugar.
Be sure to break up any clumps of almond or coconut flours.  If you store them in the freezer, they'll be clumpy!
In a separate bowl, whisk together the sugar, eggs, Kefir, and vanilla.
Add the wet ingredients to the dry and mix thoroughly.
Add in the butter, folding to incorporate.
Pour the batter into your loaf pan using a spatula to even out the top.
Place on a rack in the center of the oven.
Bake for 20 minutes and rotate.
Then bake for 20-25 more, until golden brown and until the center springs back when pressed and a toothpick inserted in the center has only a couple crumbs on it when you pull it out.

If you like lemon pound cake, add 1 TBSP of lemon zest to the cake and use 1 TBSP lemon juice in place of 1 TBSP of the Kefir.

Enjoy!

~S