Monday, November 13, 2017

Week Three: All the Cusswords AKA Orange Chiffon Cake

This has been a doozy of a week. I've had a work conference for three days which has meant being at work at 6 a.m. (pitch black) and returning to campus after 6 p.m. (also, pitch black). Plus, I'm trying to get a 16-month-old to understand Daylight Saving Time. I was just starting to relax on Tuesday night when I remembered I had to make this week's cake. Commence all the cusswords. 



Then I realized how many eggs I had to separate. Cuss. 
Then I remembered how much zesting I needed to do. Cuss. 
Then I struggled to differentiate soft peaks and stiff peaks. Cuss. 

Thank goodness we don't use a Swear Jar. If we did, Mama's bank account would be overdrawn. 

But all the cussing certainly made for a damn good cake (another quarter to the Swear Jar). 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hello, Week Three! We are approaching one-third completion of the cake-a-week journey to 2018. 

To recap: 
Week 1: Coconut Cream Poke Cake
Week 2: Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting
Week 3: Orange Chiffon Cake with Candied Zest, also from Martha Stewart's Martha's American Food
When I started this challenge, I created very limited, yet important, criteria and this recipe fit the bill. 

First, I want to try a variety of new recipes that cover a litany of dessert categories; "they can't all be chocolate or pound cakes or include cream cheese icing." I have never made a chiffon/angel food cake before and I distinctly remember being very young and asking my dad about them, he sucked his teeth and said "Ohh, those are hard." So, yeah, let's make one after a 12-hour work day. Great idea.

Secondly, I want to find reliable, tasty recipes for both unique and traditional cakes. Angel food cake is such a classic "dinner on the grounds" (church picnic for y'all Yankees) cake, I just had to give it a shot. Now, I'm equipped for any potluck or ladies' luncheon.

Third, I need to share as much cake as possible. Thankfully, the gals at my monthly book club are more than happy to take on this responsibility.

Turns out this cake wasn't particularly difficult to make; however, you do need to do a fair amount of prep work and there is some serious detail work.



Mise en place is critical here. Have all your zesting, juicing, and egg separating done and organized before you get down to the real work. I was scattered and it made things that much more difficult, but could've been disastrous for the cake, too. #MomBrain

Pro tip from my 11-grade Foods and Nutrition class: separate your eggs one at a time over a cup or bowl, then pour into their respective containers. That way, if a yolk breaks, you're only out one egg, instead of the whole shebang. Yolks and oils are MURDER to a good meringue. I mention this only because I forgot my own #@!$ advice and spent 5 minutes carefully spooning yolk out of my five-white bowl. 

And, if you're like me (read: a nervous wannabe perfectionist) pull up some images of soft and stiff peaks on your tablet/phone ahead of time to gauge your progress. And of course, once you perfect those peaks, fold in your batter gently, but thoroughly. I found a couple places that were more egg-y and less cake-y where I'd under-folded; you want the batter/egg to be blended well, but not deflated. 


No Instagram filter can top Christmas lights. 

Scattered prep and peak-induced anxiety aside, making the cake was fairly easy and turned out beautifully. Martha's version cooked longer than ours (we have an overly hot oven and I'm careful with over-cooking), so hers had a thin crust around all the edges not just the bottom; but it still turned out wonderfully fluffy and light. 

And y'all - it doesn't look orange, and you can't see the zest flecks, but this is the most terrifically fragrant and perfectly flavored cake. This would be a great for a spring tea party or a summer picnic, but I also think the winter holidays scream citrus. This would be perfect beside a hot cup of mulled cider or after a heavy Christmas meal (a reduced cranberry sauce, no not that kind of cranberry sauce, would be an excellent garnish). 

Speaking of excellent garnishes, the candied zest is a MUST. I'll just leave my explanation here, with the note I left inside my cookbook. 








No comments:

Post a Comment