Holiday Madness!

Hi Readers:

Okay, so I planned to do an Eggnog Bread Pudding and review the film Brazil for my December recipe. But alas, the plethora of other baking for the holiday season and the craziness of my teaching job caught up with me this month. But don't worry! I plan to review Brazil and do the recipe some point next year because I love them both. I'll come back 2012 with lots of other recipes and reviews.

So have a happy holiday season and a great New Year!
Keep baking!

World War II Cupcakes and Saving Private Ryan

This will be a rather short post. I just got back from work, dealing with 13-year-old students all day, and I'm exhausted. A good kind of exhausted, but exhausted nevertheless. But in many ways, the movie of the week, Saving Private Ryan, needs no words. As one of the most powerful and realistic war movies ever made, Saving Private Ryan captures the horror of war through haunting images and melodies (this is a Spielberg film after all, and in his best movies, Spielberg is above all a painter on a celluloid canvas). Besides the famous D-Day scene, the sequences from this film that stand out in my mind are those of melancholy simplicity: a close-up of raindrops spattering on a pond, flickering lights in an abandoned church, a lilting Edith Piaf song rising above the rubble of a former town.

That's one of my cats in the background, fyi

I first saw this movie in the History Through Film class I taught last school year. When my students initially began watching Saving Private Ryan, they weren't sure how to react. They giggled nervously during moments in the D-Day scene like when a soldier's helmet saves him from a bullet...and then he gets hit again and killed when he takes the helmet off. Keep in mind that most of my students were teenage boys who never saw war images outside of a video game. By the end of the film, though, many of my students were tearing up. If anything, I hope that this film taught students that war isn't a grand adventure but rather a whirlwind of tragedy and sacrifice for those involved. I'd like to dedicate this post to our veterans...thank you for your bravery in face of such horror. Thank you to Steven Spielberg for exposing these horrors to new generations with his films. And now for Dan's thoughts.

Saving Private Ryan


By the 90s Steven Spielberg had established himself as a filmmaker worthy of tackling the historical dark spots closes to his heart. Schindler’s List surprised many and silenced others who said he could never grow up. There were some flops in between, (Amistad failed to make an impression and for good reason), but five years after Schindler’s List, Spielberg once again built a solid monument to his fascination with WWII.

 Saving Private Ryan, a harrowing story of eight soldiers searching through war-torn France for the soul-surviving Ryan brother in order to send him back home, is his second masterpiece of the 90s. The most shocking part of the movie, actually, has little to do with the central plot. The first twenty minutes or so are the most brutal and heartbreaking recreations of the battle of D-Day ever filmed. Although The Longest Day was clearly an influence, Spielberg’s vision is far purer than Hollywood typically allowed.


This is a film of many virtues and the performances are not the least of them. Tom Hanks’s Capt. Miller blows his other memorable performances, even his work in Philadelphia and Forrest Gump, out of the water. It’s fun to se how many future stars got a running start here including Edward Burns, Matt Damon, Giovanni Ribisi, and even Vin Diesel.

In between brilliant scenes of valor and humanity are great moments of camaraderie and brotherhood. The final product is both the most vivid depiction we have of one of history’s darkest moments outside of the memories of those who lived through it as well as perhaps the greatest testament to Steven Spielberg’s ingenuity as a filmmaker.

Thanks, Dan. And now for the recipe.

In an homage to the home front lives of WWII, I made applesauce cupcakes without sugar or butter, since those items were rationed during the war. I got the recipe from the American Girl website, as I am still a fan at age 22 of this historical fiction series for girls! With an appealing blend of nutmeg, cinnamon, and cloves, these cupcakes are perfect for the holidays. Honey replaces sugar and gives the cakes a nice golden color. I don't usually like raisins but they work well in this recipe; the original recipe calls for walnuts as well but I leave them out so I don't clutter the taste. Finally, I find that cream cheese frosting best tops of this recipe. Remember: rationing didn't mean you had to cut sugar completely, just limit how much you used.

World War II Cupcakes

Adapted from American Girl: Molly's World Recipes  

Ingredients:

• 2 cups flour, sifted
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 
• 1/2 tsp ground cloves
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1/3 cup shortening
• 3/4 cup honey
• 1 cup applesauce, unsweetened
• 1 cup raisins, unsweetened
• 1/4 cup chopped walnuts (I leave this out)
• Frosting (cream cheese frosting recommended)

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a cupcake tray with paper or aluminum liners.
2. Put sifter into a medium mixing bowl. Sift together into the bowl the sifted flour, baking soda, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, and salt.
3. In a large mixing bowl, beat shortening with electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add honey and continue to beat for 2 more minutes. Stop occasionally to scrape sides of bowl with spatula. 
4. Add half the applesauce and half the dry ingredients into the shortening mixture. Mix at medium speed until flour disappears. Add the remaining applesauce and dry ingredients. Mix until everything is blended.
5. Use a wooden spoon to stir in the raisins and walnuts. 
6. Spoon batter into cupcake liners, filling about 2/3 full.
7. Bake cupcakes for 25 to 30 minutes. When a toothpick inserted in the center comes out smooth, remove cupcakes from oven and place on a rack to cool.
8. After 10 minutes, let cupcakes out of the pan and let cool completely. Spread frosting on top of cakes before eating.  

Next Time: Eggnog Bread Pudding and Brazil 

Pumpkin-Sage Scones and Psycho

Happy Halloween!

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. Even if you pretend there is nothing special about this night, even if you go about your daily business, you can just feel the aura of mystery crackling in the air. Most everyone now knows that Halloween comes from Samhain, the old Celtic holiday dedicated to honoring the dead. I love the sublime sense of spookiness that envelopes Halloween night: the out-of-the-ordinary sensation that hits you when masked goblins and witches show up at your door. The way the dark night seems especially still, as if all the secrets and spirits of time past are suspended in the atmosphere. The flickering orange glow of jack-o-lanterns, which are perched upon windows like sentries standing a solemn vigil. And, of course, honoring the life, death, and rebirth of the Earth by cooking with late-harvest food. Like pumpkin.

It's also a modern Halloween tradition to scare yourself silly with horror movies. I'm not a fan of horror movies, as I happen to be really squeamish, but I make an exception for the classic flick Psycho, helmed by none other than the Master of Suspense himself, Alfred Hitchcock. I love everything about this movie, from the characterizations to the retro-hip low-budget look, but most of all I love how Hitchcock made the film so scary without showing a lot. A lesson many modern horror directors should learn? You decide. But now enjoy Dan's thoughts:

Pyscho


The most amazing thing about Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho is its simplicity. Everything that could be considered a production value-splurge exists only to create atmosphere and never extravagance. Although Hitchcock had been making color movies since 1948's Rope and used them to great effect in The Trouble with Harry, he knew the best way to shoot Psycho was in black-and-white. The infamous shower scene was behind this decision. Red blood is just plain gruesome. Suggested blood is far more nuanced and, ultimately, shocking. Indeed, much of the film is suggestion rather than explanation. The misunderstanding of this or the importance of black-and-white were the two most blatant mistakes in Gus Van Sant's garish remake. The Bates Motel, where weary traveler Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) meets her untimely demise, is only as dark and gothic as the secret its scrawny and creepy manager (Anthony Perkins, in the role that immortalized him) harbors in the house atop the hill.

If you've conversed with me long enough about film you know that Vertigo is my favorite Hitchcock movie, but Psycho is the one that best justifies his title as "Master of Suspense." It works almost flawlessly, the extraneous explanation at the end notwithstanding. The key to Psycho's success is how joyfully it pops each cliche it presents. Norman is hardly intimidating, not even when Marion upsets him when she mentions his dear mother might do better in a mental institution. The motel itself looks more disturbing than frightening. One of the heroes, or rather, one of the protagonists (since heroism is not celebrated in this movie) was first seen breaking the old Production Code taboo of premarital intercourse. In fact, Psycho, Some Like it Hot, and The Apartment are often labeled as the three films which brought down the Production Code. The lead character, in whom we invest so much, is knocked off before half the movie is over and, finally, motherly love has never been quite like this.

Best scene? Possibly the lead-up to the first murder. Hitchcock was by now so masterful at creating suspense that each cue--the silence, Marion's solitude, the abandoned motel--all spell doom. Our anticipation is rewarded when we see a foggy figure through the shower curtain opening the door and moving towards the shower. The curtain is pulled...and the rest is history!

*Shiver.* It's a classic. Thanks, Dan! Now for the recipe.

These pumpkin-sage scones were scarily good. They came from my trusty Baking: A Commonsense Guide book. Soft, buttery, with the perfect blend of creamy pumpkin and tangy sage...mmmm. Definitely more of a treat than a trick. They were devoured in a very short time. But enough of words! I bet you want the recipe, so here it is:

Pumpkin-Sage Scones
Adapted from Baking: A Commonsense Guide 
Ingredients:

• 2 cups self-rising flour
• 1 cup canned pumpkin
• 3/4 oz butter
• 1 Tbsp chopped sage
• 1-2 tsps milk

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a baking tray with parchment paper. 
2. Sift the flour into a bowl along with a pinch of salt. Rub the pumpkin and butter into the flour using your fingertips. Stir in the sage.
3. Add the milk to make the mixture smooth and cohesive. Place the mixture on the tray. Shape it into a ball and roll it out until it is about 1 1/4-in. thick.
4. Cut the top of the round into eight segments (do not cut too deeply into it). Bake for 15-20 minutes, or until lightly browned and cooked through. Serve warm.

Next time: World War II Applesauce Cupcakes and Saving Private Ryan

Double Apple Strudel and Inglourious Basterds

October is here! I am full of excitement. This is the month of spooky stories, golden late-afternoon sunlight pouring through flaming trees, and dark, still nights when you can practically feel the spirits that supposedly walk the Earth on Halloween surrounding you. In terms of baking, though, do you know what I love best about October? APPLES! Apple season is largely in September in my part of New England, and during the month of October I love to think of new recipes featuring the fruit I harvested the past month. I went apple picking last Thursday, September 29th, a date which coincidentally contains two apple-related holidays this year: Michaelmas (an old European harvest festival honoring St. Michael the Archangel) and Rosh Hashana (the Jewish new year, where apples and honey are eaten to ensure a sweet year). It rained that day, but I had a ton of fun scampering through the misty fields with my family, picking the juiciest-looking apples and enjoying cider donuts in the farm's rustic wooden kitchen. No other fruit says harvest or autumn to me quite like apples.

I decided to make an apple strudel to honor my favorite fall fruit. And I can think of only one movie that suitably displays this recipe: Quentin Tarantino's Oscar-nominated epic Inglourious Basterds. That film, if you remember, showcased a absolutely delicious strudel in a scene which otherwise radiated with suspense and apprehension. Inglourious Basterds is one of my favorite films. I didn't think that I would like it, because I am very squeamish when it comes to blood (I once had to leave my sixth-grade classroom because we were watching a documentary about prehistoric animals attacking each other. It was embarrassing), but Tarantino doesn't rely on violence as much in Inglourious Basterds as he does on clever conversations regarding how cinema distorts images of war. I know some people had problems with the film's historically inaccurate ending, but Inglourious Basterds is supposed to be a fable, a revenge fantasy. I think Tarantino has made an excellent movie about World War II movies. Here are Dan's thoughts.

Inglourious Basterds


Think of The Dirty Dozen as only Quentin Tarantino could see it and you have Inglourious Basterds, an ingenious reimagining of WWII which ends the way many wish it could have. Yes, Inglourious Basterds is fantasy wish-fulfillment in the same way that the flag-waving cartoons from the era were. But it's much more than that and what makes the movie so special is precisely its untidy category.

It's easier to say what the film is not and that is a war picture, at least not in the strictest sense of the word. There are no battle scenes and minimal geopolitical babble. Instead, it focuses on the individuality of the characters and it's one of the first movies about WWII in which I can boldly remember the names and personalities of the characters.

Of course, no one who sees Brad Pitt's Lt. Aldo Raine could forget this grizzled war maverick. A renegade who wears his Appalachian origin and Native American heritage on his sleeve, Raine fights his own war and organizes a Nazi hunt employing a motley crew of Jewish-American soldiers who are ordered to find Nazis and bring back their scalps.

This would be enough to satisfy any movie and it did once, the aforementioned The Dirty Dozen. But if you know Tarantino you know his movies are layered labyrinths with no one character hogging the spotlight. Predominant in our memories is Christoph Waltz as the despicable Col. Hans Landa, nicknamed "the Jew Hunter." He is a snake with slow-killing poison. He not only kills but seems to enjoy tormenting his victims. So horrifying is this character, made especially frightening by Waltz's brilliant performance, that his final comeuppance actually leaves us wanting more. It comes in the hands not only of the titular Basterds, but also with the help of a young woman (Melanie Laurent) who lost her family to Landa's men.

Revenge is sweet. But since Tarantino has made it one of the major themes in his canon of work, it has also become fascinating and Laurent's revenge on the Third Reich is an ingenious scheme with gripping suspenseful moments. And because this is under the direction of the most brilliant movie junkie in the world, you can be sure it will contain references to films as far-out as The Wizard of Oz. Oh, and if the alternate history presented here troubles you, there are many other explanations drawn from real-known facts to make the ending more compatible with the history books. So do yourself a favor and enjoy Inglourious Basterds. It's in many ways Quentin Tarantino's magnum opus and, ironically enough, the more you know about WWII the more fun you are bound to have.

Thanks, Dan! And now for the strudel.

This apple strudel came from The Weight Watchers New Complete Cookbook. Whoever says diet recipes are blah will eat their words (ha ha) after they try this strudel. Trust me, while it doesn't look as pretty as the strudel in Inglourious Basterds, it is delicious. I have never tried a better strudel in my life. I don't know what gave it the extra-oomph, if it was the dried apples that were added along to the fresh apples or the gingersnap cookie crust. I just know that it was delectable. My family bemoaned its loss. So if you're going to watch Inglourious Basterds, make sure that you make this strudel first to accompany it. It's a must.

Double Apple Strudel
Adapted from Weight Watchers: The New Complete Cookbook 
Ingredients:

• 3 apples, peeled, cored, and diced
• 18 slices coarsely chopped dried apple
• 1/4 cup + 2 Tbsp. dark raisins
• 1/3 cup sugar
• 2 Tbsp. cornstarch
• 1/2 tsp. cinnamon
• 1/2 cup water
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• 3/4 cup walnuts
• 4 gingersnap cookies
• 3 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted
• 12 sheets phyllo dough, room temperature

1) To make the filling, combine the apples, dried apple, raisins, sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon, and water in a large nonstick skillet. Cook, covered, stirring occasionally until the apples tenderize and the mixture becomes thick. Stir in the vanilla. Let the mixture cool completely.

2) In a blender, combine the walnuts and gingersnap cookies until they resemble crumbs.

3) Preheat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Spray a big cookie pan with nonstick spray. Reserve 2 tsp. of the melted butter for later. Place a sheet of phyllo dough on a dry towel (keep the remaining phyllo covered with a damp towel). Brush the sheet lightly with a little bit of butter. Top with another sheet of phyllo. Brush that sheet lightly with a little bit of butter, then sprinkle with 1 Tbsp. of the crumbs. Repeat this using all of the phyllo sheets, crumb mixture, and butter, ending with the phyllo.

4) Spoon the apple filling over the phyllo, making sure to leave a 2-in. border. Starting at the wide end, and using the towel to help you, roll the strudel jelly-roll style, making sure the filling is enclosed. Place seam-side down on the pan and brush the top with the reserved 2 tsp. of butter. Make 11 shallow cuts through the top layers of the phyllo dough, being careful not to cut down into the filling. Baking 40-45 minutes or until golden. Cool for at least 10 minutes. Cut at the scored sections.

Next week: Not sure yet, but something involving pumpkin and a Halloween-themed film

Blueberry Cake and Pete's Dragon

I like baking in the rain. There is something so comforting about the knowledge that you are warm and toasty inside, working the magic of mixing and transforming ingredients, while outside the rain beats a sweet cadence on the windowpane. I love the hazy glow of the kitchen light during these rainy days, making me feel as if I am indeed a good witch huddled in her cottage, brewing up some magic potion. It's perfect! I baked this blueberry cake on such a rainy morning last week, in preparation for a candlelight dinner later that night. And it turned out...not so perfect. Oh, I don't mean the taste. The taste was yummy. I'm talking about aesthetics. But more about that later.

The movie for this week is Pete's Dragon, a childhood favorite. I mostly love the movie for its Maine setting (which, by the way, is why this is an appropriate recipe...Maine blueberries, get it?). I have been to Maine many times, and the state holds a very special place in my heart. I also love the ocean, and I like how in many places in Maine, the ocean is in its natural state, instead of simply the backdrop in dressed-up cutesy tourist towns. Pete's Dragon does a good job showing a small Maine fishing town in the turn-of-the-century, an unusual setting for a children's movie which adds a lot of character. This movie isn't perfect, as there are parts that are just too silly and I wish that there was more of a mystery as to whether the titular dragon Elliott is real or imaginary, but it is a charming little film. By far the best character in Pete's Dragon is Doc Terminus, a travelling medicine man whose blend of oiliness and sophistication make him the most complex person in the film. Let's hear what Dan has to say.

Pete's Dragon


How would the Disney company repeat success in the slump following Walt's death? Simple: follow the vein of Disney's biggest critical and financial smash Mary Poppins with Pete's Dragon, a charming story about Pete, an orphaned boy, and his only friend, a lovable dragon named Elliot. Well, as could be expected, it's no Mary Poppins, but Pete's Dragon is a delight nonetheless.

For a description of the film, think of Harvey, except that Pete is no drunk and the only things that Elliot has in common with the Harvey the rabbit are size and occasional invisibility. What makes the movie special are its breezy tunes, including the Oscar-nominated "Candle in the Water," and wonderful performances from a supporting cast, including Jim Dale and Red Buttons as the scheming phony medicine shillers, Mickey Rooney as the town drunk, and Helen Reddy as the practical and strong lighthouse keeper.

The biggest stand-out point, though, is the way the film captures the atmosphere of Maine in the early twentieth century. Sure, if you look closely it is hard for the Golden State to disguise herself behind the blueberry bushes, but its truly remarkable how accurately the ensemble picks up on the idioms and mannerisms of Mainers, making Pete's Dragon a lovely little film.

Thanks, Dan! Now on to the recipe.

So this recipe calls for fresh blueberries, but it was absolutely hard to find them anywhere. Weird, because they are still in season. Anyways, I had to make do with frozen blueberries. When I was preparing the batter, the frozen blueberries bled everywhere. The result was a shockingly purple batter. Seriously, it looked like a Halloween recipe. When the cake came out of the oven, it wasn't that purple, but gray instead. Not exactly my most visually appealing creation. However, it tasted really good, appropriately sweet with a pop of streusel topping. The recipe came from a blueberry cake contest sponsored by the Boston Globe, made by a woman named Jane Connelly, and it won first prize. So I definitely recommend that you make this cake, just make sure you use fresh blueberries!

Blueberry Cake with Streusel Topping
Adapted from The Boston Globe 
Ingredients:
Topping

• 1/2 cup sugar
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) cold butter

1. In a bowl, combine the sugar, flour, cinnamon and butter.
2. Work the mixture with your fingertips until crumbly and well-blended. Refrigerate it while working on the cake.

Cake

• 1 pint (2 cups) fresh blueberries
• 2 cups flour
• 2 tsps baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter, room temperature
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1 egg
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup fat-free milk 

1. Preheat oven 375 degrees. Butter an 8-in. square metal baking pan. Dust the pan with some flour. Tap out excess.
2. In a bowl, toss the blueberries with 1 tablespoon of the flour.
3. In another bowl, whisk the remaining flour, baking powder, and salt until blended.
4. Cream the butter and sugar with an electric mixer until soft and light. Beat in the egg and the vanilla until soft and light. Set the mixer to its lowest speed. Blend the flour mixture alternatively with the mix, beginning and ending with the flour.
5. Remove the bowl from the mixer stand. Fold in blueberries with a spatula. Transfer the batter to the pan and smooth the top. Sprinkle topping over the batter.
6. Bake the cake for 40-45 minutes, or until the top is browned.

Next Week: Apple Strudel and Inglourious Basterds

Pineapple Upside-Down Cake and Jurassic Park

I meant to write this entry yesterday, but Hurricane Irene had other ideas about what to do with the electricity in my house. But I suppose that's rather appropriate, because in Jurassic Park, the movie du jour, a power outage  is what sets the whole plot in motion.

I've missed blogging so much! This summer has been absolutely crazy, what with job interviews and the arrival of several relatives from overseas, and I've hardly had much time to bake or blog. That's okay, though, because my favorite time to bake is during the fall, when the air is crisp and the nights are wrapped in cozy darkness. Then baking takes on an especially magical and comforting quality. I'm already tingling with excitement at the recipes I'm planning to make for this blog in the fall, featuring yummy autumnal ingredients like apples, ginger, pumpkin, and cranberries! For now, though, I've decided to pay tribute to the last lingering days of summer by revisiting a classic summer blockbuster and featuring a classic summer recipe for this entry.

When I was younger, Jurassic Park freaked me out to no end. It was the T-Rex that did it, especially that shaking cup of water that announced the dinosaur's presence. I remember being too scared to go on this ride in Disney World that featured animatronic dinosaurs because of this movie. However, when I got older, I began to appreciate the summer fun that was Jurassic Park. It helps that Steven Spielberg is an awesome director, so he created interesting characters and a sharp sense of tension that elevate Jurassic Park to a higher standard than other summer blockbusters. By the time I was a preteen, I thought that this movie was so cool, that whenever I used to swim in a certain friend's pool, which was surrounded by a tropical-looking forest (well, as tropical as you can get in Massachusetts), I would pretend that there were dinosaurs hiding in the woods. Weird, I know. But indicative of the decade-spanning power which is Jurassic Park! And now for Dan's thoughts (who, as a boy growing up in the early 90s, became very attached to this film).

Jurassic Park


Everybody has a childhood favorite they refuse to let go of. Some, like me, have a few, and Jurassic Park is one of my top nostalgic celluloid trips. That's not to say, however, that I like Steven Spielberg's adaptation of Michael Crichton's novel simply on a sentimental level.

No, in many ways Jurassic Park is as brilliantly conceived an excitement ride as Raiders of the Lost Ark. The adaptation is vintage Spielberg with its awestruck gaze at the possibility of genetically creating prehistoric giants as well as the dangerous possibilities of unregulated scientific discovery.

Oh, but there's more. There are kids in danger when the dinos break free after a backstabbing park employee (played by Wayne Knight...remember him?) messes with the park's electric system. As in all of Spielberg's best films the heroes are those who turn their concern first to the kids. This time, it's the curmudgeonly paleontologist Dr. Grant, played by Sam Neill.

The real stars, though, are the dinosaurs. I still remember how much they shocked audiences and reporters in the summer of 1993. It was the first time computers created not just what looked like elaborate puppets but flesh-and-bone creatures. Science has proven much of what the film says about dinosaurs correct. Fossil evidence does indicate that dinosaurs had many commonalities with birds. Raptors may even have been covered with feathers! But in their scaly-lizard form they help make the climactic kitchen showdown a spectacle to remember.

Still, the iconic moment belongs to the T-Rex. What Generation Yer, for whom this film surely played an important role during adolescence, did not suffer a nightmare after seeing the monster attack the car with panicking children inside? Boomers had a spook with Night of the Living Dead, Generation X had a demon in The Exorcist, and finally, how fitting that the wired generation gets its share with a genetically created dinosaur.

Thanks, Dan! By the way, I think the whole raptors-had-feathers idea is really cool. It kind of makes them look like a character from Sesame Street, but watch out, because they're still raptors and therefore worthy of respect!

Anyways, on to the recipe. For Jurassic Park I chose a pineapple-upside down cake from the excellent Australian cookbook entitled Baking: A Commonsense Guide. It was absolutely delicious. How delicious? My boyfriend not only helped himself to a second slice but also wrote a Facebook post about it. I think it's the perfect cake to add to a Labor Day celebration: it's sweet with a hint of tropical paradise, but the biscuit-like texture of the cake underneath keeps it from getting too sugary. If the T-Rex had this cake he wouldn't bother chasing after humans!

Pineapple Upside-Down Cake

From Baking: A Commonsense Guide 

Ingredients

• 1/2 oz unsalted butter, melted
• 2 Tbsp firmly packed light brown sugar
• 1 lb canned pineapple rings (with natural juice)
• 3 1/4 oz unsalted butter, softened
• 1/2 cup superfine sugar
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten (I used EggBeaters)
• 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
• 1 cup self-rising flour

1) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Lightly grease an 8-in ring tin.

2) Pour the melted butter on the bottom of the tin. Tip the tin around so that the butter spreads evenly. Sprinkle with brown sugar.

3) Drain the pineapple rings and reserve 1/3 cup of the juice. Cut the pineapple rings in half and arrange on the bottom of the tin.

4) Using an electric mixer, beat the softened butter and the superfine sugar until creamy. Add the eggs gradually, beating well after each addition. Add the vanilla extract and beat until combined. Fold in the flour alternatively with reserved pineapple juice.
5) Spoon the mixture evenly over the pineapple rings. Smooth surface. Bake for 35-40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Let sit for 10 minutes. Invert the cake on a wire rack to cool.

Next week: Blueberry bread and Pete's Dragon

Key Lime Pie and Some Like It Hot

I'm back! Did you miss me? I certainly missed blogging. These past few weeks have been crazy. I have a bunch of family over from overseas, and it's been really fun showing them around Boston. We even went on a ghost tour! Now that I've graduated from college, I've also been going to a job interviews hoping to snag my dream career as a high school history teacher. I keep getting frustrated by that odious catch-22 that consistently rears its head: they want to hire people with experience, but how will I get that experience if I don't get a job? (For the record, I do have a job as a tutor lined up for the fall). But in any event, no matter what changes are going on around you, food and cooking are always consistent. They're like comforting friends that wait for you with a cup of hot chocolate after a long day. I revel in the knowledge that even if I won't be teaching next year, I'll still have my cookbooks and my baking.

Summer is still in full swing here. If you don't live in Boston, you should know that it gets wicked humid in the summer (did you like the "wicked" I added for local flavor?). We've had a stretch of days where the air was too muggy to go outside and the trees hung limp and sagging with the heat. Supposedly, the worse is yet to come. It's supposed to be 100 degrees and oppressively humid at the end of this week! This leads to me a confession: the dessert I created for this post isn't baked. I think you will forgive me, though, when you find out that the movie of the week is the classic comedy Some Like It Hot (I swear this isn't supposed to be a pun on the weather. It's just a coincidence). Some Like It Hot is one of my favorite films because the humor is just so crisp and refreshing. It is witty dialogue-based comedy, which is one of the kinds I liked best. You can tell that the screenwriters put a lot of effort into the wisecracks and the zingers in the film, which proves that comedy really is the hardest genre to pull off! Here are Dan's thoughts on the film:

Yes, that is an EW magazine with Spider-Man on it.

Some It Like Hot:
Seeing Some Like It Hot today and losing yourself in the zany joy that is this brilliantly-written comedy, it's a little hard to imagine that together with Billy Wilder's next film, The Apartment, this load of laughs helped to bring down the Production Code. The story involves two 1920s Chicago musicians (played by Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon) who, to escape a crew of tough moonshing gangsters, hitch a ride on a Florida-bound train disguised as women. Why this disguise? Because they have to blend in with a female orchestra led by Marilyn Monroe and also because...well, because it's funny, that's why.

More complications and shenanigans follow them to the Sunshine State, creating such memorable scenes as a lovestruck geezer's (played by veteran comedian Joe E. Brown) pursuit of the woman he doesn't know is actually Jack Lemmon in disguise, and Tony Curtis's imitation of his screen idol Cary Grant. Sure, they fall for Marilyn Monroe and the gangsters wind up in the same posh resort, continuing the complications that lead up to the perfect conclusion (even though "nobody's perfect" in this delightfully wacky comedy).

Some Like It Hot is everything a comedy should be. It's intelligent, the pacing is zippy, the dialogue sizzles ("your glasses are fogging up"), and it all works perfectly.

Thanks, Dan! Now stop...recipe time!

This key lime pie was so, so good. I was actually surprised at how good it was. See, the luxurious setting of Some Like It Hot's seaside Florida resort made me long to return to the Sunshine State, where key lime pie is the characteristic dessert. And since this recipe is no-bake, it is perfect for a sweltering summer day. The lime custard is smoothly creamy with just enough a lime flavor...it's subtle enough to remind you of the tropics, but not at all overwhelming like in other key lime pies I've tried. In true Floridian fashion, do NOT tint the custard green when you are making this. This recipe comes from a a cookbook entitled The Quick Cook: No-Bake Desserts. According to this book, key lime pie has been around since the 1890s. Therefore, it's possible that the Some Like It Hot characters could have shared a piece of this pie during their Jazz Age stay in Florida!

Key Lime Pie
From The Quick Cook: No-Bake Desserts
Ingredients:

• 1 can (14 oz) fat-free sweetened condensed milk
• 1/2 cup fresh lime juice
• 1 tsp grated lime zest (if possible, use key limes)
• 1 prepared graham cracker pie crust
• 2 cups fat-free frozen whipped topping, thawed

1) In a medium bowl, beat the condensed milk and the lime juice with an electric mixer until combined. Stir in the lime zest.
2) Pour the mixture into the crust. Spread the whipped topping on top. Refridgerate at least 2 hours.

Quick, healthy, and cool!

Next week: Pineapple Upside-Down Cake and Jurassic Park