"They're hella good – double cranberry – write that": (Double) Cranberry Orange Buns for my Husband

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Friends! It is I, Anne, here for my annual Linzers post!

Yeah...I can't really believe I've only posted three times in the past three years...I'm sorry. The truth is, I've been all over the place, literally and figuratively: in 2017 I moved to Washington with my fiancé, was desperately lonely and unemployed for a few months, then started working at David's Bridal – at least up here, the brides were pretty great on the whole – and as the year turned I was exhausted all the time and really too poor to bake much and too uninspired to write much of anything. Then I got what I thought would be a great job – a writing job! – in May 2018, and the six months that I worked there were a blur of hideous overworkedness and even more exhaustion (and even less writing), combined with wedding planning and accompanying family drama.

In September we had our wedding – there's a pic below, because I can't resist – and I baked a boatload of cookies but didn't have the wherewithal to post. That said, I made three recipes and all were loved by the guests, so here they are: snickerdoodles, chocolate chip, and the surprise favorite, oatmeal raisin.

After the wedding, we had two weeks to pack before moving into the house we closed on four days before the wedding, and two weeks after the move we went to London to celebrate our marriage with friends there – see? I told you things have been nutso! Here's a pic from that trip, when we took the Overground in our wedding finery:

Then, two weeks after we got back from London, I went down to SF for a week for my nephew's bar mitzvah and my friend's baby shower. So it wasn't until mid-November that I had a moment to breathe and bake, and honestly with the exception of pumpkin pie I didn't have the energy to do much besides loaf (pun not intended, but definitely enjoyed) on the couch and watch Netflix between bursts of unpacking/painting/cleaning/home improvement.

But surely, if nothing else, Christmas calls for setting aside life upkeep for a minute and forcing some cheer into the everyday – as an example here's a bonus pic of our repainted mantle covered in holiday nonsense:

And in the name of said holiday cheer, I determined to bake something special for my husband (it still startles me that I actually have a husband). Now, this is a man who enjoys baked goods but will never, ever, choose room for dessert over more bites of meat – really, he'd rather have salt and vinegar chips/crisps than chocolate any day – which can be challenging for me, as a sweet tooth who relies on her partner to share in the enjoyment of/save her from indulgences. He does an admirable job, though, so this time around I really wanted to make something he would get genuinely excited about; as usual, Smitten Kitchen came through for me.

If he's not going to be eating something sour or savory, my husband will veer immediately toward the tart (no comment on my chastity, please), so when I saw these cranberry orange buns I knew he'd love them. To further tweak them in favor of his preferences, I doubled the cranberries (don't do this – while it was delicious, it caused a lot of extra juice, which led to the extra step of pouring it out and I think also made them take longer to cook) and halved the icing (I do recommend this, if you're not into super sweet stuff).

Anyway, as you probably gleaned from the title of this post, my husband loved the buns (again, no comment) – he even insisted on keeping all 12 for our household, instead of letting me give some away to neighbors! The highest of praise.

(Double) Cranberry-Orange (Breakfast) Buns
   from SK

AHP Note: Deb's recipe calls for the second rise to be in the fridge overnight. That sounded perfect when my husband and I were planning to drive to California on Thursday morning. But when we learned he would have to work Thursday we pushed our early nuclear-family Christmas celebration up by 12 hours and there went my overnight rise. I recommend following the original instructions, since I'm certainly no yeasted-dough expert and I'm not at all sure my buns wouldn't have been much tenderer given a slower second rise, but if you do find yourself pressed for time it worked for me to let them rise on the counter for about 90 minutes before baking.

Make your dough. In the bowl of a stand mixer (if you don't have a stand mixer, check the SK link for detailed instructions), combine:
     4 large egg yolks
     1 large whole egg
     1/4c (50g) granulated sugar
     6 Tbsp (85g) melted butter
     3/4c (175 ml) buttermilk
     3/4 of the finely grated zest of 1 orange (reserving the last 1/4 for the filling)

Add, stirring until evenly moistened:
     2c all-purpose flour
     1 packet (7g or 2 1/4 teaspoons) instant dry yeast (AKA Bread Machine or Rapid Rise yeast)
     1 1/4+ tsp coarse or kosher salt, to taste

Switch to dough hook and work in:
     3/4 c flour

Knead the mixture on low for 5 to 7 minutes, until dough is soft and moist but not sticky, then scrape dough onto the clean counter or a plate while you oil the mixer bowl – put dough back into bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise at room temp until doubled – 2-2.5 hours.

When your dough has risen, make the filling. Melt and set aside:
     1 1/2 Tbsp (20g) butter


In a food processor or with a large, sharp knife, dice into 'coarse rubble' (Deb's exact words):
     1c (115g) fresh cranberries

Butter a 9x13 ceramic or glass baking dish and turn your dough out onto a clean, floured counter or large cutting board (if your counter is never clean enough, like mine). Do your best to roll it into an 18x12 rectangle (evidence of my consistent failure to roll out neat edges or tidy my work space is below) – the long side should be nearest to you. 

Brush the dough with your melted butter, then sprinkle on:
     1c (190g) packed light brown sugar

Add your cranberry rubble and the last of your orange zest.

Roll the dough tightly along the shorter edge, resulting in an 18"-long spiral log. Cut with a very sharp, serrated knife into 1 1/2-inch wide discs. Place the buns (there should be 12, but I got 13) in the prepared baking dish, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate overnight (up to 16 hours).

Bake the buns. Allow buns to warm up to room temp for 30 minutes while you preheat your oven to 350F/175C. Bake until the buns are puffed and golden and a thermometer inserted into the dough reads 190F (for me, this meant the corner/edge buns were a little dry – but again that's probably down to the additional moisture from cranberry overload).

When buns are cooked, place pan on cooling rack and let cool for 15 minutes. Then whisk together and pour over the top (again, I halved these measurements):
     3 1/2 Tbsp (55 ml) strained orange juice
     2c (240g) powdered sugar

Serve and enjoy!

Making my excuses, and hoping for the future

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I know it's been an inordinately long time since I've written, and I actually wish I didn't have such a good excuse.  But unfortunately I do.

My engagement fell apart (and with it all my happiness and stability and functionality) in a most spectacular and traumatic way back in June, after months of pain and torment – obviously, I wasn't doing much baking during that time, and the aftermath was too filled with tears and logistics and fleeing the country for me to be thinking much about food at all.  I was lucky if I could remember/force myself to eat one small meal a day.  Needless to say, there wasn't much I could say here that would be anything but depressing, so I stayed away while I tried to pick up the pieces of a life I no longer wanted to live.  I moved back to San Francisco and am currently living with my parents while I try to get through this extremely dark time.  It's been the most difficult few months of my entire life, and there have been days when, if Morpheus had offered me one pill to keep going and one to stop everything right then, I would certainly have taken the latter pill.

But, and this is important, there have been bright spots.  Hours, even a few hours in a row, when I forget how much pain I'm in.  And every month there have been more of those hours – this month there have been whole days.  It feels like nothing short of a miracle, and I spend a lot of my time waiting for the relapse (there have been many of those, some unbearably long and brutal), but it seems time is finally starting to heal me a little bit.

And then a few days ago, I baked a galette.  It hardly counts as baking, since the dough was given to us by a neighbor and my mother prepped the apple-pears, so I literally just tossed the fruit with some sugar and spices, rolled out the dough, and brushed melted butter over the top, but it was a start.  And I had a feeling that things might actually be okay one day, far off in the future.

So to thank you for sticking around through my long hiatus, and as I ask you to please bear with me as I continue to gather the shreds of my heart and paste them together with spit and mud – I'm not as sharp as I was before all this, but hopefully that's temporary – I offer you this 'recipe' for an easy free-form galette.  It may not be much of a project, but it lifted my spirits and made me believe for a moment that maybe I could patch my life back together with a little patience and melted butter.  I hope for you it's at least a semi-pretty and tasty solution to the question of what to serve after dinner with friends.

London Restaurant Recommendations

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Okay, it's time for the round-up of my favorite places to eat in London!  We're going to go by price, since I know that's often the most important consideration for visitors to this fine and expensive city – bear in mind, though, that London is very expensive, so when I say places are 'cheap' I mean sort of 10 pounds for a main, 5 if you choose very wisely.  It really doesn't get cheaper than that, except in McDonald's or a local 'chippie' (Fish n' Chip shop).  So here we go!

Cheap places (usually better for lunch than dinner):

Baozi Inn, in London's Chinatown, is a teeny little place that serves really good (and apparently authentic) Chinese dumplings, soups, and other dishes.  It's great value for money and quite cozy, so perfect for a stop-in on a rainy afternoon fighting the crowds in the West End.

New Culture Revolution is another great (and cheap!) Chinese place – lots of basics on the menu, noodle dishes and stir-fries etc, but my absolute favorite is the dumpling soup with pork and Chinese leaves.  The broth is homemade, the dumplings are tender, and the meat tastes healthy and clean, not full of gristle and grease as you sometimes get.  The location in Angel is just off the super-busy high street, and they always have room for walk-ins (at least so far), so it's a great option for lunch or dinner away from the maddening crowd (are you sensing a theme in my restaurant choices?  You sense correctly!).

Borough Market is always a good idea if you're looking for an inexpensive breakfast or lunch – note that a trip to the market is rarely inexpensive, as there's so much temptation that I almost always run out of money very quickly, but it's easy to get a great sandwich or a delicious plate of something Greek/Italian/Spanish/you-name-it for about a fiver (the above meat pies are even cheaper).  Can't beat that!  Plus, the people watching is divine.  The only drawback here is that it's all outdoors, so your usually-lovely seat in the next-door churchyard might be a bit soggy if the weather is doing its usual English thing...

Thanksgiving Across the Pond

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Normally around this time of year I'd be looking out at the above view, loving Northern California with my whole heart while the women in my family (that's about 90% of the clan) bustle around in the background, bickering over seating charts and discussing salad choices and oven schedules and answering the ever-ringing phone with the same refrain: "Butterball Hotline!"  It's the most wonderful time of the year – Thanksgiving is when the extended family gathers, really, and we break up into nuclear pockets over Christmas/Chanukah/New Year's.

This year, though, I can't afford the time or money to go home.  For the first time ever in my life, I'll be missing out on Thanksgiving with my family, and it hurts to think of everyone gathering without me while I sit in my office and schedule books for production...  So I decided I wouldn't allow myself to mope.  If I can't be with my family, I'll make my own holiday, right here in the land our forefathers fled before the holiday ever existed – the BF and I will be doing a Friendsgiving this year, and we're holding nothing back.

We've invited Brits and expat Americans and even a few from farther afield, and the guest list has gotten a little out of hand: we're now expecting around 25 people.  Our table seats ten, and we don't even have that many chairs, but I figure making do and an attitude of 'the more the merrier' is what Turkey Day is all about, so to that end we've bought a bunch of paper plates and plastic cups and cutlery and are planning to seat people wherever we can (including the floor), and we've ordered a 10kg turkey and people will be bringing sides, and I'm going to bake at least two of my family's famous pumpkin pies and mash lots of rutabagas, and I'm committing all the wisdom on the NYT Thanksgiving Helpline to memory... so I think it'll be great fun in the end.

I'll still miss my family, of course, but there's no cure for homesickness like being run off one's feet, and I think I've got that pretty well covered – in fact, I would do well to pause in the middle of my recently-constant moans about how stressed I am and be grateful for everything I have: a great boyfriend, fantastic friends, a book that I wrote up on Amazon for pre-order (!!!), a new job title that ought to bolster my resumé nicely, and a family worth missing when I can't be with them.  I'm a pretty lucky lady.

And now I must stop thinking and go do things, for there are more dishes to wash and seating charts to plan and pie crusts to be rolled out and RSVPs to gather and wine to be ordered and...

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

I Made A Real, Frosted, Layered Birthday Cake (and It Only Took Two Attempts and About a Million Eggs...)!

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Last Friday my company had a 'wine and cakes' party in our department, celebrating the first birthday of the imprint I work for.  Now, as someone who often brings homemade baked goods in to the office, I expected to be asked to make something, which I was happy to do.  What I didn't expect was being volunteered to bake a birthday cake, which to most people might just mean a cake but which translated in my head to many-layered cake of wonder with homemade icing and decoration, which is something I'd yet to attempt.  Still, I figured it would be a good opportunity to try something new (namely, making a fancy icing). 
 
But then two things happened to make the plans much more stressful.  The first was that my friend Tess, who works in the marketing department, asked me to use a recipe from one of our books, which wouldn't in itself be a problem but I had been hoping to use a tried-and-tested American recipe, or at least one with tons of online reviews – of course I agreed, though.  And the second thing was that my very well-meaning friends 'bigged up' my baking in a company-wide email.  And of course, as we all know, there's nothing like a little outside pressure to make a cake fall flat.

Battling My Sweet-Yeasted-Dough Demons: Paul Hollywood's Brioche

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For some reason, every time I decide to make something sweet that's yeast-based, whether it's challah or gooey butter cake, the elements contrive to work against me and the thing turns out to be a huge flop.  I end up nervously hovering over my dough, waiting for it to double while I curse the rain and wish I had ever seen what doubled dough should look like so I could be sure I'd recognize it when it happened.  And usually I give up and bung it in the oven after waiting an hour past the recommended time, and usually that ends up being a mistake and I can only guess that my dough was under-proved... I don't have this problem with savory breads (but maybe it's just that it's less noticeable when they're a bit under-proved, and they're just a bit denser which isn't such a big deal in my book), but the sweet doughs always seem to elude me.

So I'm not sure why, when Bloomsbury asked me to test a recipe from Paul Hollywood's new book, How to Bake, I chose brioche.  It's everything I'm crap at: a sweet dough, with more ingredients than your average bread, and a recipe that requires planning, patience, and 2 days to babysit your kitchen.  And yet, somehow, once I saw the photo of that fluffy, gorgeous, golden crown of deliciousness, I just couldn't get it out of my head.

Going Native: Lemon Drizzle Cake

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There are some very American things I will never give up, no matter how long I live in England – peanut butter, Trader Joe's chocolate, and Peet's coffee, among others – but recently I've been forced to admit that, despite my best efforts, some English traditions have gotten under my skin.  For example, the BF and I spent the Jubilee weekend in Devon with his family, and after a long, cold, rainy wander through one of the nearby towns (gotta love that British summer), I crouched through the door of the little thatched cottage where we were staying and headed straight for the kettle, mumbling incoherently about how badly I needed a cup of tea.  Then, this morning, the BF made coffee in our stovetop espresso pot and I had one cup, relishing the flavor of Bay Area-roasted beans, and then made another cup of tea.  Yup, I'm totally addicted to a good old English brew.

I also use words like 'bin', 'lift', and 'post', and never ask where the bathroom is in a restaurant anymore, preferring the colloquial 'loo' (less graphic somehow than asking for the toilet!).  But if there's one area of life in which I staunchly support America's superiority, it's the kitchen.  Not that I can't appreciate a good Sunday roast or a nice slice of banoffi pie, but given the choice I'd always rather stick with a US favorite, like lasagne or pumpkin pie or brownies or banana bread... the list goes on. 

Finally, a Cure for American Fall Nostalgia!

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Back when I first moved to London, one of the things I missed most about the states was hot apple cider.  The fall snap in the air that first year hit my nostalgia buttons hard, and I found myself aching to crunch through an autumn wonderland, breath clouding, hands wrapped around a hot cup of steaming apple cider.  But alas, I was disappointed again and again – even Starbucks didn't have it, and there was nothing resembling cider (to mull myself) in the shops.  The closest thing I found was something called mulled apple cider at Covent Garden, but one sip of the revolting alcoholic brew dashed my hopes against the cobblestones and shattered them into a million shards of sad.

All that fall and winter I had to content myself with coffee, which, luckily, is one of my favorite things.  But it still didn't hit the spot.  I guzzled the real stuff on brief and wonderful trips home, and resigned myself to a life without sweet, cinnamony comfort.

   

Heat wave sweet crave solution

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It’s hot in London right now.  As my brother would say, hot as… well let’s just say, really hot and sticky.  Muggy.  Humid.  Still.  Not exactly comfort-food weather.  I spend all day grazing on chunks of cheese and nibbles of cucumber– anything cold and quick.

The much belated V-Day post: my new favorite roll cookie recipe and an experiment with Royal Icing

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Valentine's Day was a little tough this year.  It seems ungrateful to say it, but I actually think things were too good in my relationship; our expectations of romance were unrealistically high, given that I had put the kibbosh on anything over-the-top.  

How much more could I POSSIBLY love bread?!

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Tons more, as it turns out.  Who knew that making bread myself would make it taste that much sweeter?  Or, saltier, if we're talking about my sea-salt-crusted preference.  Anyway, I'm sure it has less to do with the hard work than with the delectable smell of baking bread, which makes my stomach growl and my boyfriend harass until the loaf comes out of the oven and we inevitably ignore the instruction to let it cool completely before slicing.  Whether we're missing out on something by slicing too early, I'll never know, because I doubt we'll ever be able to wait to break open a loaf like this:

Gingersnaps and a new respect for composition

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I may not have a fancy camera, but I can at least move the cookies out of the kitchen and into the light!

When my boyfriend requested gingersnaps, I was hesitant.   They seemed like a lot of work, and while I've always liked them, they're not my favorite (and we end up with a LOT of cookies every time I bake, so I damn well better want to eat them).  Nonetheless, he does support my silly amateur baking endeavors with gusto, so I figured why not give the man what he wants, rather than just making him want what I give him (he's rarely complained, but still)?

OMIGOD chocolate chip cherry oatmeal cookies!

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So I've been paging through The Joy of Cooking, and there are about a million things I want to make: crepes, sour cream pound cake, chocolate mousse cake, and most of all angel food cake, which was my dad's favorite birthday dessert when I was a kid and so it always reminds me of being allowed to eat sweet things (starting to get a sense of why I'm so obsessed with baking?).  But, as mentioned in an earlier, whinier post, I don't have the tools required to make any of those recipes.  Nonetheless, I soldiered on, and last night I decided to try the famous chocolate chip cookies.  Then I watched Desperate Housewives and read a hundred pages of the book I'm assigned for class and had dinner and watched a BBC program on the African Rift...

Who can take a sunrise, sprinkle it with dew?

Pin It Not me, apparently.  No candyman am I.

I've been trying to make candy all week.  I can't make it to my boyfriend's families houses for the holidays, so I wanted to send him with a big, pretty jar of caramels (I was going to make toffee, with chocolate and nuts, but his dad hates chocolate.  I KNOW).  I found a recipe on Allrecipes.com, which is my new favorite hunting ground because of the number of reviewers and the helpful suggestions they make about cooking time, flavors, etc.

The recipe, found here, looks really easy.  There are only 7 ingredients, and the process is basically: put all ingredients in saucepan, bring to boil over medium heat, and when a candy thermometer reads 250 (or 240, as most reviewers suggested), pop it into a greased tray to cool.  A few hours later, Bob's-yer-uncle!  Easy peasy caramels!

So far, so good.

But in this instance, even 217 reviewers and all their collective wisdom couldn't help me.  First, there was the problem of the corn syrup the recipe calls for.  They don't really do corn syrup here in the UK, so I was back to substituting.  The first time around, I used a combo of something called liquid glucose and honey.  The consistency seemed right, and I didn't think honey flavor would be a problem.  And it wasn't, although it was noticeable.

Salted Brown Butter Rice Krispy Treats (or: I am a Baking Machine!!)

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Story of my life.

So I've been baking up a storm lately. In the past week alone I've made pumpkin muffins (to use up the leftover pumpkin from the bread pudding, which was a big hit, by the way), apricot muffins (to use up the dried apricots I'd been meaning to eat for months), chocolate chunk cookies, and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and today I tried making mini pumpkin pies (an easy, portable way to educate my fellow MA students on the wonders of American food traditions) and these delicious-looking rice krispy treats from Smitten Kitchen. (By the way, I do realize that my photos don't hold a candle to the pics at SK or Bakerella, but in my defense I'm using a general-use digital camera from about 5 years ago, which is a good little machine but in no way compares to the real thing. Just sayin'.)

Anyway, I can hardly expect y'all to read about all those things at once, so I'll just post briefly about the rice krispy treats, and include a few photos of the other goodies (you have to see the cuteness of the minipies). Ok? Ok.

A little substitution... and bibbity boppity boo!

Pin It Baking over here can be trying. Not only are the conversions a bitch (my recipes now have temps in both Fahrenheit and Celsius, and ingredients in cups and grams), and the ovens electric and therefore highly varied, but there's also the matter of being a poor student.

Point the first: poor. Meaning I don't have the money for such indulgences as a Kitchenaid mixer, or even a Cuisinart like my mom has at home (Hi Cuisinart, baby, I miss you!), or even such small luxuries as different sizes of pan/sheet/dish in which to bake.

Point the second: student. Which not only reiterates the poverty, but also means I'm here for a limited time, which makes any investment I could feasibly make seem like a stupid waste of money, since I can take very little back with me across the Atlantic.

So why do I keep trying? Because baking makes me happy.

Snickerdoodles in our new flat

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We moved into our new flat over 6 weeks ago, but the new, working replacement for our broken oven only arrived last week. So I'm sure you can imagine how much I'd been dying to bake, and the fact that I was denied only made me fantasize harder about tarts and pies and cookies and cakes.

So when the new oven was installed, I immediately started thinking about what would be my christening baked good. I settled on Snickerdoodles, because the cookies here all seem a little too sweet for my taste, and i just wanted something cinnamon-y and soft and subtle, without chocolate (I know, blasphemy).

Watch this space!

Pin It I'm back in London and ready to bake! Or I will be, once we get into our new flat. Oh, electric 'hobs', how I haven't missed you...