Having coffee cake and eating it, too

Lately, I've had a craving for coffee cake. I blame this mostly on Keith, who tends to choose coffee cake as a treat at the shop where I regularly buy coffee beans. He usually lets me have a bite, and it's good.

But a bite just isn't enough. Nor is it any good on a quiet morning at home, when there's just enough snow on the ground to delay school and you really want baked goods with your cup of coffee. It was time to pick out a new recipe.

Of course, by the time I got it baked, I would be long done with my morning java, but there was always the afternoon cup. And the next day. And, maybe, the day after that.

I decided to test a toffee bar coffee cake out of the December 1999 Bon Appetit, mainly because it looked straightforward and I was intrigued by the toffee topping. I also had all the ingredients at home, except the toffee and buttermilk, which I picked up after dropping the kids off at school.

Step one was mixing butter, flour, dark brown sugar, regular sugar and salt together until it resembled coarse meal. Then, I scooped out 1/2 cup to reserve for the topping.










 After setting aside the topping mixture, I added some baking soda to the batter mix. I didn't want to add in the liquid ingredients until just before pouring the batter into the cake pan (9 x 13 x 2 Pyrex), because I didn't want the buttermilk and baking soda to react too quickly and keep the cake from rising in the oven.

So I finished up the topping mixture by adding in some broken up pecan halves and some Heath bar bits. The actual recipe calls for breaking up toffee bars, but it was easier to buy the brickle bits the grocery store stocks next to chocolate chips.

I went back to the batter bowl and beat in the egg, vanilla and buttermilk. Then I quickly poured it into the baking dish ...

... and sprinkled toffee topping all over it. Then I baked at 350 degrees for 35 minutes.

On the surface, the final version did not look appreciably different from the pre-baked version until you cut into it. Then, it looked like cake.

THE VERDICT: This cake has a wonderful texture. If I could get that texture in a chocolate layer cake, I'd be thrilled. It was perfectly moist and spongy. At first, I wasn't too crazy about the flavor: I didn't get as much of a sense of the pecans or toffee as I hoped, and was surprised when Will raved about it. But the flavor improved immensely overnight and tasted better the next morning. It was an excellent complement to a morning cup of coffee. Keith ate several pieces, and Alex snuck himself a piece at snack time. A definite keeper.

Time for an upgrade

I keep forgetting that I need a Bundt pan.

Many years ago, when we were helping downsize somebody's kitchen on Will's side of the family, I acquired a nifty little springform pan with a Bundt insert. It was pretty cool. I could make cheesecakes, I could make Bundt cakes, and I could make a deadly flourless chocolate cake courtesy of Rose Levy Beranbaum. What else did I need?

As it turned out with my nifty little springform pan, the emphasis is on little: The pan in question is maybe 8 inches diameter and not particularly deep, either. I could make small cheesecakes. I could still make my flourless chocolate cake. And an occasional small Bundt cake.

Eventually, I realized I needed a larger springform pan and duly acquired one. But the Bundt pan keeps getting shoved to the back burner. Then things like apple spice cake with brown sugar glaze turn out to be a tasty mess.

Last weekend we made our annual trip to the pick-your-own apple orchard and loaded up on Jonagolds. Some years, this leads to debate about what to do with the fruit as Will and I usually have different ideas. This time, while he went straight to work on a crisp, I lazed around a bit before finally deciding to test out a cake recipe.

The recipe calls for Granny Smiths, but since that wasn't what we had, it wasn't what I used. I grated and drained three Jonagolds -- the boys sampled the resultant juice, and assured me it was a keeper recipe -- and had just a bit more than the 2 c. apple called for.

The cake batter beat up very thick, looking almost like a dough. At this point, I was supposed to transfer it to a greased 12-cup Bundt pan. Of course, what I had was a prepared 8-inch springform pan with a Bundt insert. My guess is it holds 8 or 9 cups. The batter filled the pan most of the way. I thought briefly about putting a cookie sheet on the baking rack under the cake pan, but decided I was OK and just popped the cake into the oven.

Twenty minutes later, I detected the distinctive scent of cake batter that had overflowed the pan and started burning on the bottom of the oven. I mentally kicked myself for not using the cookie sheet, and put one in to catch any other drips. And boy, were there more drips coming.


The cake also took about 10 minutes longer to bake than expected, and the sides of the pan were covered in drips. Once I removed the pan, however, it did look good, a nice even golden brown. While the cake cooled, we nibbled on the cooked drips, which tasted like a nice, slightly crunchy cookie.

The glaze presented no problems: Just melt some sugar, butter, cream and flavorings together and pour over the top of the cake. It was getting on toward dessert time, so we didn't wait too long to let the glaze set.

THE VERDICT: The cake was very moist and the glaze was pretty good. Will, Keith and I all liked the cake OK the first day, but preferred it the second day, after the glaze soaked in more and the flavor deepened. Alex liked it every day. The cake was sturdy enough to travel in lunchboxes. It also went well with coffee. A keeper, but I won't be making it again until I get a real Bundt pan.