A literal tea cake!

Today on A Book of Cookrye, we present what happens when we're too tired to know better.  Here at A Book of Cookrye, we drink a lot of tea. It is our understanding that in some countries, people have little cookies (or biscuits, as they would say) with their tea which are called tea cakes. We thought it would be interesting to actually make... a tea cake!
This comes from Mrs. George Thurn's A Book of Selected Recipes. It turns out there's a lot of nice-looking stuff in it. We started with this cake recipe:

I want to meet this woman who thought we should have cake every day.

...and made a simple ingredient swap.

Der Tee!

Tea Cake ⅓ c shortening ⅔ c sugar 1 egg ½ c boiling water ¼ c powdered milk 1 tea bag 1⅔ c flour 2 tsp baking powder ½ tsp salt Heat oven to 350°. Grease a layer cake pan. Empty tea bag into a cup. Pour the water over it and steep 3-5 minutes. Strain, stir in milk powder, and set aside to cool (you can pour it in a wide bowl to cool it faster). Cream shortening and sugar. Beat in the egg, then the baking powder and salt. Alternately add the flour (in 3 additions) with the tea (in 2 additions), starting with flour. Pour and spread into pan and bake until done, about 30 minutes.

Most of making this looked anticlimactically normal, although I always feel like shortening in cakes is somehow worse than butter. Since they're both heavily refined fats, there may be no difference, but shortening tastes terrible on toast.

But dump a crapton of sugar on it and it's A-OK.

Anyway, where most people would have added milk, we decided to use this!

The glass came free with a box of teabags.

What can I say? It was finals week. I was dizzy from slogging through all of them. Dumping tea into a cake seemed perfectly logical. Besides, I imagined having this conversation with people:
   "I've made tea and tea cake."
   "Where's the tea cake?"
   "It's that one."
   "That's just cake!"
   "I didn't make tea cake, I made tea cake!"
   "Why didn't you make tea cake?"
   "I wanted tea cake instead."

You can imagine that going on as long as you like. I promise it's hilarious when you've had no sleep.

Tea milk.

The resulting batter was really thick, and tasted subtly of tea. I had no idea what to make of it.

So, since a lot of other people were downstairs despairing over notes, this cake was very heavily sampled. Results?

"Y'know, this is good!"

"Cool, you can taste the tea!"

"Why'd you do this?"

"Reminds me of cornbread."

"Not bad."

"I thought you said you made tea cakes."

Despite having not bothered with the honey icing, some people did find an abandoned bottle with a little honey left in it and put some on their pieces. It's like it was meant to be.

Journeys actually begin with cake.

And so, in conclusion, this is an experiment totally worth trying! I've had a lot of batty kitchen ideas, but this one actually worked. I had been kind of hoping for something like sliceable sweet tea. The cake ended up tasting like regular cake with the taste of tea subtly changing it. If you didn't know it was tea, you'd have noticed there was something different but been unable to figure out what it was. And for those who doubt my endorsement of this as a good idea, this is all that remained after 30 minutes.

Never has it been so appropriate to slice cake with a tea strainer.

Chess Pie is easy and tasty!

Hello! Thanksgiving has passed us, and now we can move on to Christmas! I'm... honestly not that excited about it. 

All that saccharine fake cheer drives me mad. And Christmas presents have changed from getting things to yet another sign that the retail industry cannot shut up. I mean really, there were candy canes and garlands coming out before Halloween.

Christmas used to be a holiday, now all I get out of it is wall-to-wall Jingle Bells and newscasters yammering about whether Christmas Spending is going up or down. And, of course, the yahoos who spring up right on schedule to make screeds about how there's a War On Christmas. Call me a grump if you will, but I'm a bit disenchanted with the holiday.

Anyway, Christmas does bring us a few things I like, and one of them is baking! Today, we at A Book of Cookrye are pleased to make... chess pie!

Chess Pie 1 tbsp graham cracker crumbs 1¼ c sugar 2 tbsp flour 3 eggs ¼ lb (½ c) butter or margarine 1 tbsp vanilla 1 tbsp cider vinegar 1 unbaked pie shell Heat oven to 350°. Mix crumbs, sugar and flour. Thoroughly beat in eggs. Add to butter; cream thoroughly. Add vanilla and vinegar; pour into pie shell. Bake for 45 minutes (55 in a metal or foil pan). Mrs. W G Byrd, El Reno, Oklahoma; Favorite Recipes of America: Desserts, 1968

Right from the beginning, you get the idea this isn't going to be healthy. But you know what? At this time of year, with swimsuits still far off enough that you can work off whatever you've done in time (assuming you're in the northern hemisphere), why not?

No, please, egg whites only. I hear the yolks make you fat.

And then you get to the point where you've melted a whole stick of butter. I swear, any other time of year I'd pass on this one, but it's wintertime.

The butter has swallowed the other ingredients.

This is my grandmother's favorite pie I make. I will say I only discovered it by accident. There's this bakery by her house that sells this odd cheesecake that's not quite a cheesecake which I always have to get whenever we visit. For the longest time, the label was misspelled "Chess Cake." Anyway, I found a recipe for Chess Pie and thought it was the same thing I loved buying in said bakery and made it. It is not. I was disappointed until I tried a slice.

Copious vanilla and vinegar. I still don't know why it works.

However, it is amazing and delicious and makes its own top crust. Y'know how butter foams up when melted? Well, the foam rises to the top and bakes crispy.

Before...

After!

Anyway, this pie is amazing. You should try it.

Blueberry Boy-Bait actually works!

A while ago, I saw a recipe for something called Blueberry Boy Bait. Always willing to perform social experimentation, it was perfect.

Blueberry Boy Bait  2 c flour 1½ sugar ⅔ c butter or margarine 2 eggs, separated 2 tbsp baking powder 1 tsp salt 1 c milk 1 c drained blueberries (fresh, canned, or frozen)* Heat oven to 350°. Grease and flour a 9x13 pan. (For this recipe, you'll want to grease the pan and dust it with flour even if you usually don't do both; the cake seems to really want to stick.) Mix the sugar and flour together. Cut in the butter until it looks mealy. Set aside ¾ packed cups of this for crumb topping. To the rest, add the baking powder and egg yolks. Then stir in the milk, a spoonful or so at a time, mixing each addition in thoroughly. If you add the milk all at once, you'll just end up with lumps of stuff swimming in milk that never quite mix together. As the mixture gets runny, you can add the milk more freely. Beat the egg whites until stiff but not quite dry. Stir a spoonful or two in, then fold in the rest. Pour into the pan, tilting as needed to spread. Arrange the blueberries on top. Bake 40-50 minutes. Serve cold with whipped cream as a dessert, or warm as a coffee cake. *If using frozen, do not thaw. They'll make the cake go bluish-green, and also be messy to add.

Incidental note for those interested in the socio-culinary effects of industrialization: Rarely do I ever see a recipe call for butter in thirds of a cup. If it's not just a spoonful or two, it's in half or quarter cups, which is sticks and half-sticks. So we've subtly altered our recipe amounts to fit the way butter is packaged. Or it may well be the other way around- most of the really old recipes call for butter in quarters of a pound (which is the weight of one modern-day stick). Whichever came first, butter is rarely measured by the third.

Anyway, this recipe comes to us from the 1954 Pillsbury Bake-Off, where it placed second in the youth division. Apparently the girl that sent it in, one Remy Powell, named it for its singlehood-curing powers.

In a fit of absentmindedness, I melted the two thirds of butter the first time I made it. The cake came out fine anyway.

Proving that few things make even the most kitchen-averse people dust off the inside of their ovens quite so well as the prospect of boys, this recipe has been reposted and reposted over and over again. As you do when cooking, a lot of people altered it to fit. You can kind of track the changes. At some point, people got fed up with this beating and folding egg whites business. Later, the crumb topping got replaced with cinnamon sugar. However, it seems even the modern-day versions work. I tried the recipe on Cook's Country (found by way of Mid-Century Menu). Even though I found it a bit bland, it seemed to bespell my now-ex. I should have known we were through when it turned out he had the gluten problems.

Is that butter and sugar or heart attacks and diabetes?

Anyway, having melted the butter, I added the sugar and once it was mixed, the flour. Had they both gone in at once, there'd have been flour lumps and therefore no boys five minutes after they tasted it.

Not gonna lie, it already smelled good.

And then, we at A Book of Cookrye had a massive bowl of crumb topping, of which a little was saved as per instructions and... er... a teeny amount was tasted.

What does it say about me that so far my recipe book is more colorful than the cup of stuff from said recipe?

Anyway, this is where we at A Book of Cookrye get thankful people have left things downstairs in the kitchen. We had a rice cooker to hold the crumb topping and a little bowl to crack the egg whites into.

We also were about to use milk for this, but guess what was in the refrigerator with no name on it?

This is actual name-brand stuff and it had been there for some time.

As I've said before, unlabeled food is not just an established convention; the kitchen rules sign says "UNLABELED FOOD IS CONSIDERED FAIR GAME FOR EVERYBODY!!!" (their caps and triple exclamation points). So I figured why not? It might add a lovely taste to the cake.

I call this sneaking the liquid in. It's like the stiff dough in the bowl really doesn't want to become a batter. So you have to put in a tiny splash or so, which soaks into one or two lumps that then mix in with the rest when you stir. The rest of the dough doesn't realize any liquid has been added so it doesn't mind. Then you add a little more and get away with it (add too much at once and the lumps will hold fast together against the onslaught they're swimming in), and so on until...

And when it's gotten runny enough, you can dump in the rest of the milk because the lumps have given up.

At this point, I was really hoping that whatever boys this brought would offer to clean my dishes. I'd gotten out three bowls (well, two and a pot) for this.

I had nothing else to beat egg whites in.

Anyway, the batter tasted divoon. I promise that it really did go into the pan that thin, and it had nothing to do with generous taste-testing (one can't be sure enough).

Putting on all those blueberries (when they're this far out of season, I've found frozen ones are better than fresh) made it look like this might live up to its name.

Emptying the rice cooker of topping made it look even more so.

Around when this was due out of the oven, I simultaneously became unnerved and excited. Boys were indeed drifting kitchenward.

I think I know why.

And by the time it was cool enough to slice, it had demonstrated its power. The kitchen was literally crowded with people, very few of them female, who wanted a piece or seconds. Everyone, go ahead and make this, it really works (also, the almond milk is delicious in it). No, no, you can thank me later.

Happy Thanksgiving from A Book of Cookrye!

And if you don't celebrate Thanksgiving (or if your country has it on a different day), have a happy Thursday! And remember, even though you bought the foil pans with the plastic covers....



 ...they may have mispackaged them and you'll have to force two top halves to stay closed together.

The covers popped off so easily I should have taped all three.

Happy Thanksgiving, and don't forget duct tape!

Thanksgiving is this week!

I don't know about you, but Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. All of my relatives get together, and all you need to do is bring food. It's the last day before Christm-- er, The Holiday Shopping Season officially begins, although I saw displays going up in stores months ago. You'd think no one ever went to a store for any reason but to shop for Christm--- er, Holiday, the stores depend on it so. (Although if you're going to depend on Christmas, is it really so hard to name it rather than calling it The Holiday? And don't try to tell me they're being inclusive of other religions. They may have a token menorah and Kwanzaa candleholder buried in the back, but its all Santa Clauses plus some nativities to pretend they're being pious.)
Anyway, I thought I'd list the things I think would be good to bring for Thanksgiving for whosoever would like to get ideas. Plus, since they're from someone who's always broke, nothing here'll set you back all that much!

As for me, I'm about to make a lot of pies.

Anyway, for who might soever still seek recipes and ideas for this Thanksgiving (or might be planning Christmas already), here are some more ideas!

Garlic-Parmesan Baked Cauliflower

After all the gut-bombing cream sauces and butter, this'll be really nice to have on the table for everyone. It's light in calories without being punitively healthy. I'm probably going to make this a lot over the next month or so.

Baked Macaroni and Cheese

You promised to bring something and still have no idea what. Buy some egg noodles and some shredded cheese, and you've got yourself covered.
 I admit it's not what we usually have in my family, but that's because it is generally 5 or so Kraft boxes which are then put in a pan and briefly introduced into the oven.
This recipe is just two ingredients, and everyone will be so amazed because it's real cheese! 

Steamed Green Beans (made without a steamer because I don't have one)

Super easy, and you can pretend for a moment you're being healthy.

The Original Pecan Pie

It's just as easy as the corn syrup version, and so much better! 

Southern Lemony Things

A dessert recipe from a Louisiana Junior League cookbook. You'd have a hard time coming up with something better.

 
Kisses
You know, after all the heavy desserts on top of heavy foods, these light airy things may be just perfect. If you have a stand mixer, they're not much work. If you have a hand mixer, you'll burn off any calories you'd get eating them.

Bread Pudding

Lacks in presentation, but is really tasty. Rolls are going to seriously be on sale anyway. Throw this together before you get dressed to leave, and it'll be out of the oven about when you need to head out the door.

Chocolate Chip Bars

It's like making cookies, but you just put the dough into one pan instead of pulling batch after batch of cookies out of the oven. Also, I've made these a few times since and people always like them a lot. Plus, they have no butter so they'll be easy on people who just had a massive dinner.

Special Collections Brownies

Rich, dark, and delicious. Also a cinch. There's a reason someone wrote this one down in the back of a cookbook.

Sugar Cookies

Short on ingredients, easy, tasty, and you get to add random colors to make them look snazzy!

Butterscotch Cookies

Have you ever had blondies? If you haven't, they're like brownies but brown sugar-y and butterscotch-y. These are basically blondies in cookie form, meaning you can just set them on a plate and not have to worry about serving utensils. Also, since it's icebox cookie dough, you can mix it a couple of days ahead and bake it right before Thanksgiving so they're fresh!

Honey Tarts (or Portuguese Farts)

Little individual honey pies? Awesomeness!

Peanut Butter Cookies

Everyone I know likes peanut butter cookies, yet these hardly ever show up at Thanksgiving. Why not be the one who brings them? (If you really feel like going all-out, make them on a waffle iron and then have them hot with ice cream on top!)

Apple Pie

This is easy and everyone likes it. The rye-honey crust adds a really nice kick to it, but it's also really good with a plain crust.

Photo source: Caker Cooking

Chess Pie
The Pieathlon may have yielded me, to put it graciously, an unforgettable experience, but the one I submitted (which Brian of Caker Cooking made) was a delicious one which I've made every year. Do try it!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! If you don't celebrate it, or if you celebrate it on a different day (Hi, Canada!), then have a good Thursday!

Mexican Cornbread, or How long have those vegetables been back there?

Today, we at A Book of Cookrye are pleased to announce that we have more fridge space! However, we didn't want to throw out any of the iffy vegetables. Therefore, especially since as Thanksgiving and Christmas come around with leftovers, we are quite pleased to present...

Mexican Cornbread    Batter*: 2 c cornmeal 1 c flour 1 tsp salt Sugar to taste 1 can creamed corn 2 eggs Milk (we used ¼ c + 2 tbsp) 3 tbsp oil or shortening    Filling (adjust to whatever's lurking in your refrigerator): About 1 lb. ground meat (we used half beef and half breakfast sausage) ¾ c shredded or finely cut cheese (we used half cheddar and half pepper jack) 1 or 2 bell peppers 1 onion 1 jalapeño Chopped cilantro Other vegetables that are good on tacos Heat oven to 350°. Grease a skillet or 9x13 pan. For the batter: Stir in all the solid ingredients. Add the eggs and corn and beat well. Add milk until until it's just thin enough to pour into a pan without too much spreading, then add the oil. Set aside. Chop the vegetables. Cook them with the meat, or saute them with a little oil if your meat is already cooked. Remove from heat and stir ½ cup cheese and the cilantro. Add salt and seasonings to taste. Pour half the batter into the pan. Sprinkle the filling on it, then spread the rest of the batter on top. Take a table knife (or just use the spoon you mixed the batter with) to cut lines through the batter about ¾-1 inch apart. Then cut through perpendicular to the first lines. This is to mix it enough to hold together, but not so much that you lose the layers. Sprinkle the remaining cheese on top and bake until a knife in the center comes out with no liquid batter (ours took 45 minutes). *You can use whatever recipe or cornbread mix you like (doubling the recipe if it makes a square pan's worth). I think this is a lot better if you add creamed corn to the batter and then add milk until it is the right thickness.

Is it really Mexican? Probably not. However, does it matter?

So... yellow...

I got the recipe (well, the basic idea anyway) from one of my aunts. If one day you crack open your refrigerator and find you have some leafy greens that are yellowing and wilting, bell peppers going kinda squishy, or anything else that's kinda soft and iffy looking but has yet to actually grow fur...

You can just dump them in this!

...along with the extra meat from taco night.

We ended up with twice as much meat stuff as would fit in the pan, so we froze half of it.

It's not like dividing it in half made for skimpy portions. Check out the meat-cornbread ratio here.

It was actually kind of tricky to spread it out over everything, but that just means this'll be really good.

So after mixing it...

cheesing the top...

and leaving it to bake, we can face the fact that we are very messy cooks.

But this is good enough that it doesn't matter. I don't care that it's only tenuously connected to actual Mexican food, that it's overwhelmingly yellow, or any of that. It leaves you sated.