The Boozy Baker: 75 Recipes for Spirited Sweets
Read The Boozy Baker: 75 Recipes for Spirited Sweets Online
Authors: Lucy Baker
Tags: #Baking, #Methods, #General, #Cooking, #Beverages, #Courses & Dishes, #Desserts, #Wine & Spirits
THE
BOOZY
BAKER
THE
BOOZY
BAKER
INTOXICATING RECIPES
for
SPIRITED
SWEETS
by
LUCY BAKER
RUNNING PRESS
PHILADELPHIA • LONDON
TO MY MOTHER,
ELIZABETH GLASGOW BAKER,
for always letting me stick my fingers
in the bowl and lick the spoon.
© 2010 by Lucy Baker
Photography © 2010 by Steve Legato,
with the exception of the top cover photo © Ryan McVay/Photodisc/Getty Images
All rights reserved under the Pan-American and International Copyright Conventions
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system
now known or hereafter invented, without written permission from the publisher.
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Digit on the right indicates the number of this printing
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009940779
ISBN 978-0-7624-3802-0
Edited by Geoffrey Stone
Cover and interior design by Amanda Richmond
Typography: Archer, Geetype, Verlag and Chronicle
Food styling by Katrina Tekavec
Special thanks to Mariellen Melker, Manor Home & Gifts, Philadelphia, PA;
Scarlett Alley, Philadelphia, PA; Fosters Urban Housewares, Philadelphia, PA;
Home Grown, Haverford, PA; Crate & Barrel, King of Prussia, PA;
and Kitchen Kapers, King of Prussia, PA for the props.
Running Press Book Publishers
2300 Chestnut Street
Philadelphia, PA 19103-4371
Visit us on the web!
CONTENTS
HAVE YOUR CAKE AND DRINK IT TOO
RAIDING THE BAR AND THE COOKIE JAR
STICKY, SAUCY, AND SPIKED: SPOON DESSERTS
FORMULAS FOR METRIC CONVERSION
Enormous thanks to
my agent, Sharon Bowers, for encouraging me to write my own book and stick to the deadlines. Also to Jennifer Griffin and Angela Miller for their unparalleled input and support. Thanks to my editor, Geoffrey Stone, for believing that baking with booze was an excellent idea, and for shaping my vision into printed reality. Thanks to Amanda Richmond for her inspired design, Katrina Tekavec for her lovely styling, and to Steve Legato for the gorgeous photographs.
I’m especially grateful to Ed Levine and the entire team at
SeriousEats.com
for entrusting me with a weekly column, teaching me to blog, and sharing my obsession with food. A big thank you to Natalie Danford for setting a terrific example of a working food writer. Thank you to Tom Birchard and Lisa Staub, Bruce Weinstein and Mark Scarbrough, and Rick Rodgers for allowing me to add a little sauce to their recipes and include them here.
Thank you to all of my wonderful friends, especially Bryan Rucker and Peter Chapin for the cocktail suggestions; Sarah Izzo, Mary Cavett, Sarah Kramer, and Robbie Fenster for the recipe testing and tasting; and Blythe Miller for relinquishing the kitchen.
I am forever in gratitude to my parents, John and Elizabeth Baker, and my brother, Jeffrey, for cheering me on unconditionally, and for occasionally letting me hold the rotating title of “Best in the Fam.”
Most of all, thank you to Alex Brandes, for loving me and supporting my dreams, and always honestly answering the question, “But is it bakery good?”
Last but not least, thank you to the amazing Harriet Bell, my friend, mentor, and first-ever boss, for teaching me everything I know about cookbooks, and to never use the phrase “mouthwatering.”
“So take up your bottle opener and your jigger, dear explorer, and go—where’re your daring and the spirit moves you!”
—RUTH VENDLEY NEUMANN, COOKING WITH SPIRITS, 1961
Here is a memory:
I am six years old, standing in the kitchen in a nightgown covered with tiny purple flowers. I have just finished breakfast. My mother is on the phone in the other room. With silent, barefoot steps, I approach the counter and place my palms facedown on its top. Then I take a deep breath, muster all my strength, and hoist my chubby little body onto the surface.
I freeze and cock my head to the side, listening to make sure that my mom hasn’t heard me.
When I’m confident that she’s still engrossed in conversation, I continue with my mission. Bit by bit I inch my way across the countertop: past the sink filled with soaking cereal bowls, past the toaster, past the breadbox overflowing with English muffins, and even past the open package of Entenmann’s miniature powdered donuts. Today, I will not be distracted.
Finally, I stop in front of a cabinet that I have watched my mom rummage through countless times. I ease open the cabinet door, wincing as it creaks a little. Then I lean in and inhale the heady, spicy smells emanating from all the tiny jars and containers.
There, perched way up on the top shelf is what I have been looking for: the brown glass bottle of vanilla extract.
Whenever my mom baked a batch of her famous fudgy brownies, or the raisin cupcakes from a recipe passed down from my grandmother, she added a teaspoonful of vanilla. It was my favorite part of the baking process. Vanilla extract was the most wonderful-smelling thing in the world: warm and sweet, like a mixture of flowers and ice cream. Surely, I thought, it must taste even better.
I snatched down the bottle and unscrewed the red plastic cap. Then I tilted it to my lips and took a giant swig, pouring about a quarter of the contents into my mouth. It tasted terrible. Like medicine. Gasping and sputtering, I spit the vanilla out in a shower of brown drops that splattered down the front of my nightgown. I coughed loudly and lost my balance, tumbling from the counter to the floor, landing startled but safely on my bottom.
My mom came running. “What happened?”
“I wanted to try the vanilla. I thought it would taste like it smells.”
“Oh, Honey!” Laughing, she explained that vanilla extract didn’t contain any sugar. It was made mostly of alcohol.
Strange. I remember thinking, why would anyone want to bake cakes or cookies with that?
Years later, after I had grown up
(sort of) and become a food writer, I discovered the answer to my childhood question: we bake with booze because alcohol—from spirits, such as bourbon and rum, to liqueurs like amaretto and crème de menthe, to wine and beer—imparts a subtle, sumptuous warmth that deepens the flavors of desserts and makes them taste even more decadent, luxurious, and sinful. A pear crisp straight from the oven is much more comforting with a generous dose of merlot, and whoopie pies take on a grownup twist when filled with Grand Marnier-infused marshmallow cream.
Besides, baking with booze is fun—plain and simple. Infusing desserts with different alcohols is an easy way for “weekend foodies” (people who may not have gone to culinary school but who read cookbooks like novels and Tivo the Food Network) to add a “saucy” twist to what they bake—no kugelhopf pan or flute-tipped pastry bag required.
Lots of us turn to food and drink for comfort: after an argument with a friend, in the middle of a tough workweek, or on a cold and rainy day. Sometimes, in these difficult moments, a cupcake crowned with a cloud of frosting or an unusual take on a classic cocktail is all we need to brighten our spirits. People have always looked for consolation in the bottle—and in the cookie jar. Why not combine the two in one?
What’s that you say? You don’t exactly have a fully stocked bar? Not to worry. Most of the sumptuous, saucy recipes in these pages come with easy substitutions for swapping port and framboise, rum and tequila, brandy and bourbon, so you don’t have to
buy a whole bottle just to bake one dessert. Moreover, you just might find a way to use up that bottle of coconut rum that has been gathering dust since your last Tiki party. (When was your last Tiki party?)
Whether you are a pastry-perfectionist or a one-bowl beginner, a bona fide mixologist or a cocktail neophyte, it’s time to get out your shaker and your oven mitts. I hope this book becomes a favorite, its pages splattered with chocolate, sprinkled with sugar . . . and garnished with a twist.
Homemade Bourbon
Vanilla Extract
3 vanilla beans
1 cup bourbon
Rinse a clean, empty jam jar or a mason jar with boiling water to sterilize it. Set aside. Split the vanilla beans in half lengthwise with a small, sharp knife. Add them to the jar. Pour the bourbon over the vanilla beans and screw the jar’s lid on tightly. Give the jar a few good shakes. Place the jar in a cool, dark cabinet or closet and let it steep for 8 weeks, shaking occasionally. The extract will darken over time. Homemade Bourbon Vanilla Extract can be used in place of store-bought vanilla extract in any recipe. There is no need to remove the vanilla beans.
MAKES
1 CUP
We’ve all heard the adage
“baking is a science.” It’s true in many respects. If cake flour is wantonly substituted for all-purpose flour, or if two eggs are used instead of the requisite four because that’s all that’s left in the fridge, the recipe will fail.
But baking isn’t quite an exact science. If dry ingredients are whisked instead of sifted, if a dash of salt is omitted, or if a pinch of cinnamon is accidentally doubled, try not to worry about it. This isn’t high school chemistry class, with the dorky rubber goggles and the drippy lab partner. There are no grades (only dessert), and no one is going to complain as long as the recipes are baked with love, top-notch ingredients—and plenty of booze.
BUTTER:
Good butter lies at the soul of every great baking recipe, and there is no substitute for the real thing. All of my recipes call for unsalted butter, which tends to taste a bit fresher than salted versions. Also, the amount of salt in salted butter varies from brand to brand. Using unsalted butter allows the baker to control the level of salt in a recipe. If circumstances are dire and salted butter must be used, simply omit the salt from the rest of the recipe.
MILK AND CREAM:
I use whole milk in all my recipes. Low-fat milk can be substituted, but not skim milk, which is far too watery. If low-fat milk is used, the dessert will not be as rich or creamy in texture. The one exception to this rule is buttermilk, which is more readily available in reduced-fat versions, and is naturally quite thick. I use heavy cream (sometimes labeled “whipping cream”) in these recipes. For the best flavor, use the freshest cream available. For some recipes, such as the Banana-Rum-Raisin Rice Pudding or the Donut Bread Pudding with Tennessee Whiskey Sauce, half-and-half can be substituted for the cream. When preparing whipped cream to garnish a dessert, never substitute light cream or half-and-half.