Sweet Potato Sadness

So, overall Thanksgiving was happy and tasty. But... there was one hiccup. Perhaps the worst thing (culinarily) is when you present a recipe made of quality ingredients in the highest of hopes and it doesn't thrill anyone, not even yourself. And it's not because of a mistake the cook made, it's just... the food. That's what happened with my sweet potatoes this year.

Rather than go the typical SAD route of dousing them with sugar and animal hoof goo (i.e. marshmallows) or after baking them in their own skins and splitting them to be served with butter and salt (my favorite!) I tried out a recipe that, well, just didn't work out as I'd wished.

From Sally Fallon's Nourishing Traditions:

Sweet Potato Puree 

• 4 large sweet potatoes
• grated rind of two lemons
• juice of two lemons
• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 2 egg yolks
• 1/2 tsp sea salt

Boil potatoes in water until tender and then peel while still hot. Place them in a bowl, mash and mix with butter, lemon rind, lemon juice, egg yolks and sea salt. Transfer mixture to a buttered ovenproof casserole and bake in a 350-degree oven for about 1/2 hour.

Frankly, this dish tasted really "healthy," which, as healthy as sweet potatoes actually are, wasn't was I was looking for in a Thanksgiving dish. Left alone to bake, sweet potatoes are divine, sweet, earthy (can something be earthy and divine? If so, it's this root!). This dish was too bright (because of the lemon) and too rich (because of the egg yolk). I forced myself to finish the dollop on my plate and will brave through the leftovers, but I'm not gonna enjoy them. Sadness.

Next time I'll just roast 'em up and let 'em shine on their own---sweet potatoes really don't need anyone to fuss over them. I've learned my lesson.

Let them eat cake!

I hesitate to even type this one out.  I did make this cake, so I might as well share the info, but unfortunately, we didn't get to eat it.

There was so much food on Thanksgiving that after I'd frosted this cake I covered it and put it in the fridge and forgot about it. Ack!  By the time we were hungry and could have been ready to enjoy some cake, days and days had passed and, lacking a proper covering in the refrigerator, the cake was a dried-out and hard as a rock. Sadness.

Here's what I think would have been my declaration about the recipe: While the cake itself was tasty, I didn't enjoy the frosting.

Both my husband and I sampled the frosting before I put it on the cake, but while he said it was okay (though he admitted he could taste the tofu), I thought it was sour and rather yucky. I only frosted the cake with it because I hoped that once on the cake the tofu-y-ness wouldn't be as obvious as it was when snacking on the frosting alone, but I think I might actually have felt led to grab the cake out and slice it up if I hadn't been so apprehensive about the frosting I'd slathered on it.

Apple Cardamom Cake with Lemon-Maple Frosting
from Vive le Vegan! by Dreena Burton

Cake
1 1/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1/4 cup ground oats
1/4 cup unrefined sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp cardamom
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 tsp sea salt
1 cup unsweetened applesauce
3/4 cup vanilla or plain non-dairy milk
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/4 cup canola oil

Preheat oven to 350F. In a lg bowl, combine all the dry ingredients, sifting in the flour, baking powder, and baking soda. Stir until well combined. In a separate bowl, combine the applesauce, non-dairy milk, vanilla, and oil. Add the wet mixture to the dry and stir through, mixing until just well combined (do no overmix). Pour into two lightly oiled cake pans and bake for 22-24 minutes, until lightly golden and a toothpick inserted in teh center comes out clean. Let cool completely before frosting.

Frosting (since I didn't really like the frosting I'm just listing the ingredients, not the actual measurements nor instructions on how to make it):
silken firm tofu
vanilla extract
canola oil
maple syrup
unrefined sugar
sea salt
freshly squeezed lemon juice
lemon rind
plain non-dairy milk
agar powder

Frost your cake and refrigerate for at least a few hours to set. Serve cake slices with some vanilla or chocolate ice-cream.

It was easy to make and smelled delish. I really do wish I'd had a taste. Oh well. I'll just have to make it again.  {smile} And I'm making a promise to myself:  the next time I bake a cake and am concerned about the frosting I'll just sprinkle some powdered sugar on top of the crumb or make a quick sugar glaze to drizzle over it. I will NOT risk ruining the entire cake with gross frosting.

Promise.

Biscuits for the Bin

And for my 10th post: a flop.

To accompany this week's Blonde Lentil Soup I whipped up a batch of biscuits. Or, rather, they whipped me. Any way you view it, I ended up with a bruised ego.

I remember the biscuits of my childhood: puffed to perfection, flaky, soaked in margarine (yes, we northwesterners then proudly cooked with Marigold), and yummy to the tummy.

My pre-teen self believed it was my own cunning hand that consistendly turned out beautiful biscuits. Nothing to do with the recipe or ingredients, just my own my brilliant ability to measure and stir. To cut-in the shortening. To turn the dial on the oven.

Apparently not.

Perhaps my magical biscuit abilities have dissipated over the past twenty years, but those I made this week were bad. Not bad enough to immediately throw out, mind you. We did choke them down, bathed in butter and soaked in the lentil soup. But they were not good enough to keep around, even though there were many left after dinner. They were flat, burned on the bottom, and dry. Unappetizing.

I took their recipe from Anna Thomas' The Vegetarian Epicure: book two (1978):

Biscuits

2 cups white flour
4 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup butter
1/2 to 2/3 cup cold milk

Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Slice the butter while it is very cold, add it to the dry ingredients, and cut it in with a pastry blender or two knives until ti si in bits the size of split peas. The texture of this mixture should be a little more coarse than that of a short-crust mixture before the liquid is added.

Sprinkle 1/2 cup cold milk over the flour and butter, and stir it in quickly with a fork. Add only as much more of hte milk as is necessary to make the dough hold together.

Gather the dough up into a ball, working it together with your hands very briefly, and then roll it out 1/2 inch think on a floured board. Cut out small rounds and place them on ungreased baking sheets. If you aren't going to put them in the oven immediately, chill them in the refridgerator until ready to bake.

Bake the bicuits in a preheated oven at 450 degrees for 10 to 12 minutes, or until puffed and lightly browned on top. Serve with butter.

Make about 20 biscuits.

This is one recipe I followed to the letter, with no substitutions. I don't know if it's just a rotton recipe (it's certainly not an overly complicated one) or if it was my sadly lacking baking skills again (see my not-so-great Gingerbread Apple Pie attempt), but I probably won't attempt this exact recipe again.

If any of you have used Anna's recipe and found it to be a great success, let me know. Or don't. Because if you do then I'll know that it was me that was the flop.