Apple Spice Coffee Cake
Filling
3 large apples, cored, peeled, and coarsely chopped
juice of 1 orange
1 C. dark brown sugar
2-3 TB. butter
1/4 C. sultana raisins (optional).
Melt the butter in a skillet. Melt the sugar in the butter. Dump in the apples and juice. Let simmer until the apples are fully cooked. If you want the raisins, add them at the same time that you add the apples.
Batter
1-2/3 C. unbleached all-purpose flour
2/3 C. whole wheat flour
1 pkg. yeast
1/2 C. milk
2 eggs
1/3 C. granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cardamom
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
2 TB. ginger paste -or- 1 tsp. powdered ginger
1/4 C. oil
Mix together the dry ingredients. Warm the milk. Add in the yeast and let it proof (1-5 minutes, depending on whether it's regular or quick-rise). In a separate bowl from the flour, mix together the yeast mixture, the eggs, and the oil. Beat this into the flour mixture, stirring for about 1 minute or until the dough starts to pull away from the sides slightly. Let rise in a warm place about 30 minutes to 1 hour (again, depending on your yeast). Grease and flour a bundt pan and preheat the oven to 350F. Pour half the batter into the pan. Pour in the filling. Top with the remainder of the batter and bake for about 40 minutes. (You might have to tent the top of the cake for the last 10 minutes or so, depending on how hot your oven runs. It should be a nice medium brown on top, though.) Take the cake out after it passes the toothpick test and let it cool for about 15 minutes before attempting to cut it.
I had apples, so I used apples, but another alternative is to use two or three jars of orange marmalade and skip the whole "making a filling" step. That would bring out the spices more and be a lot easier. It is tasty as an apple cake, for sure.
________
In my search for a pan while cooking dinner, I discovered the manual to a vintage kitchen appliance I own called "the Foodgun". I know. It sounds like it should be illegal in schools and on planes and public property. In reality, it is a spritz cookie maker and, according to the ambitions of the manufacturer, the most useful tool in our kitchens since the fork. Have a bunch of cooked unfilled manicotti laying around? Problem solved! Use the Foodgun. Need to turn plain mashed potatoes into a gourmet dish via shooting them out of a motorized canister? Shabam, the Foodgun gives you "Duchess Potatoes". Its uses potentially are limited only by the human imagination of things that need to be filled and substances that can be shot into those things. In addition, the manufacturer provided a helpful "FAQ" section at the back that makes Dr. Dre look like an amateur at spinning. Example: "Q. Is it dishwasher safe? A. The motor housing is not immersible, but easily cleans with a damp cloth. It's possible to put the separate parts in the dishwasher--but not advisable....Besides, they're so easily cleaned with a soak and a wipe that it's hardly worth the time to put them in the dishwasher." (Emphasis mine.) Excuse me, but until I have a personal attendant who enjoys applying "a soak and a wipe" to dishwasher-safe items, it is still worth the time for me to put them in the dishwasher. Furthermore, I cannot imagine the "soak and a wipe" that would be both quick and sufficient to remove a thick, sticky layer of extruded cookie dough from the inside of a plastic barrel. It would involve much more than that. Possibly two soaks. And definitely about a thousand wipes. Or the dishwasher. Just come out and say it if it's not dishwasher safe. There is no such thing as "marginally dishwasher safe", except, apparently, in the minds of the makers of the Foodgun.
This Foodgun in particular came to me by a circuitous route. It was originally given to Grandmom as a Christmas or birthday present, and it was something she wanted. However, it turned out not to be exactly what she thought it was, or something to that effect, so she hung onto it for a while and then regifted it to my mom at her bridal shower. Remember, this was about thirty years before "regifting" was even a word. But Grandmom did it! My mom knew about it and was fine with it. Eventually she tried it out, and it too wasn't quite what she had in mind. So, she gave it back to Grandmom, where it sat in the basement for the next 25 years until Grandmom asked me if I wanted to poke around there and see if there was anything I wanted for my first apartment (on approval, of course). I haven't tried it out yet. Honestly, I'm kind of afraid to.
Also, my not using it allows it to last longer and therefore possibly become the most epic regifting since the Ugly Sweater Episode. In a nutshell, either my Great-aunt Kitty or my Grandmom or possibly their respective Mother-in-law/Mother gave it to one of them. It was, by both their reports, really ugly. Yet it was mandatory for whoever got it first to wear it occasionally out of respect for one's elders. Until somebody got the brilliant idea to "accidentally" lose it at the other one's house. In a very hidden location. At first, the finder, whoever it was (Grandmom or Aunt Kitty), thought it was an accident and tried to give it back. The ugly sweater returned, and the game was on. Over the course of about 15 years the ugly sweater traded houses multiple times and also went to Myrtle Beach and Upstate Pennsylvania, (in various hands) and also once to Paris, France. (Grandmom was responsible for that one, sneaking it into a packed suitcase on pretense of using the bathroom at Aunt Kitty's house the day before she left on vacation.) As you can imagine, over time the methods of sweater delivery had to become more sophisticated. It got mailed. It got "Return to Sender"-ed. It came in the back of a framed picture. Of course it got given for Christmas along with a more legitimate gift at least once apiece. It goes without saying that every coat closet in both their respective houses got paid a visit by the ugly sweater, while the deliverer tried to sneak out without having to retrieve it, sometimes with success. (I remember Grandmom telling me she was so frustrated on one occasion because she had checked every closet multiple times during a visit from Aunt Kitty and Aunt Kitty still managed to sneak the ugly sweater in somehow right before she left.) So, with my vintage Foodgun approaching its fourth holder and decade, I think I can definitely continue the tradition, if I find just the right victim...er...recipient.
Filling
3 large apples, cored, peeled, and coarsely chopped
juice of 1 orange
1 C. dark brown sugar
2-3 TB. butter
1/4 C. sultana raisins (optional).
Melt the butter in a skillet. Melt the sugar in the butter. Dump in the apples and juice. Let simmer until the apples are fully cooked. If you want the raisins, add them at the same time that you add the apples.
Batter
1-2/3 C. unbleached all-purpose flour
2/3 C. whole wheat flour
1 pkg. yeast
1/2 C. milk
2 eggs
1/3 C. granulated sugar
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cardamom
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
2 TB. ginger paste -or- 1 tsp. powdered ginger
1/4 C. oil
Mix together the dry ingredients. Warm the milk. Add in the yeast and let it proof (1-5 minutes, depending on whether it's regular or quick-rise). In a separate bowl from the flour, mix together the yeast mixture, the eggs, and the oil. Beat this into the flour mixture, stirring for about 1 minute or until the dough starts to pull away from the sides slightly. Let rise in a warm place about 30 minutes to 1 hour (again, depending on your yeast). Grease and flour a bundt pan and preheat the oven to 350F. Pour half the batter into the pan. Pour in the filling. Top with the remainder of the batter and bake for about 40 minutes. (You might have to tent the top of the cake for the last 10 minutes or so, depending on how hot your oven runs. It should be a nice medium brown on top, though.) Take the cake out after it passes the toothpick test and let it cool for about 15 minutes before attempting to cut it.
I had apples, so I used apples, but another alternative is to use two or three jars of orange marmalade and skip the whole "making a filling" step. That would bring out the spices more and be a lot easier. It is tasty as an apple cake, for sure.
________
In my search for a pan while cooking dinner, I discovered the manual to a vintage kitchen appliance I own called "the Foodgun". I know. It sounds like it should be illegal in schools and on planes and public property. In reality, it is a spritz cookie maker and, according to the ambitions of the manufacturer, the most useful tool in our kitchens since the fork. Have a bunch of cooked unfilled manicotti laying around? Problem solved! Use the Foodgun. Need to turn plain mashed potatoes into a gourmet dish via shooting them out of a motorized canister? Shabam, the Foodgun gives you "Duchess Potatoes". Its uses potentially are limited only by the human imagination of things that need to be filled and substances that can be shot into those things. In addition, the manufacturer provided a helpful "FAQ" section at the back that makes Dr. Dre look like an amateur at spinning. Example: "Q. Is it dishwasher safe? A. The motor housing is not immersible, but easily cleans with a damp cloth. It's possible to put the separate parts in the dishwasher--but not advisable....Besides, they're so easily cleaned with a soak and a wipe that it's hardly worth the time to put them in the dishwasher." (Emphasis mine.) Excuse me, but until I have a personal attendant who enjoys applying "a soak and a wipe" to dishwasher-safe items, it is still worth the time for me to put them in the dishwasher. Furthermore, I cannot imagine the "soak and a wipe" that would be both quick and sufficient to remove a thick, sticky layer of extruded cookie dough from the inside of a plastic barrel. It would involve much more than that. Possibly two soaks. And definitely about a thousand wipes. Or the dishwasher. Just come out and say it if it's not dishwasher safe. There is no such thing as "marginally dishwasher safe", except, apparently, in the minds of the makers of the Foodgun.
This Foodgun in particular came to me by a circuitous route. It was originally given to Grandmom as a Christmas or birthday present, and it was something she wanted. However, it turned out not to be exactly what she thought it was, or something to that effect, so she hung onto it for a while and then regifted it to my mom at her bridal shower. Remember, this was about thirty years before "regifting" was even a word. But Grandmom did it! My mom knew about it and was fine with it. Eventually she tried it out, and it too wasn't quite what she had in mind. So, she gave it back to Grandmom, where it sat in the basement for the next 25 years until Grandmom asked me if I wanted to poke around there and see if there was anything I wanted for my first apartment (on approval, of course). I haven't tried it out yet. Honestly, I'm kind of afraid to.
Also, my not using it allows it to last longer and therefore possibly become the most epic regifting since the Ugly Sweater Episode. In a nutshell, either my Great-aunt Kitty or my Grandmom or possibly their respective Mother-in-law/Mother gave it to one of them. It was, by both their reports, really ugly. Yet it was mandatory for whoever got it first to wear it occasionally out of respect for one's elders. Until somebody got the brilliant idea to "accidentally" lose it at the other one's house. In a very hidden location. At first, the finder, whoever it was (Grandmom or Aunt Kitty), thought it was an accident and tried to give it back. The ugly sweater returned, and the game was on. Over the course of about 15 years the ugly sweater traded houses multiple times and also went to Myrtle Beach and Upstate Pennsylvania, (in various hands) and also once to Paris, France. (Grandmom was responsible for that one, sneaking it into a packed suitcase on pretense of using the bathroom at Aunt Kitty's house the day before she left on vacation.) As you can imagine, over time the methods of sweater delivery had to become more sophisticated. It got mailed. It got "Return to Sender"-ed. It came in the back of a framed picture. Of course it got given for Christmas along with a more legitimate gift at least once apiece. It goes without saying that every coat closet in both their respective houses got paid a visit by the ugly sweater, while the deliverer tried to sneak out without having to retrieve it, sometimes with success. (I remember Grandmom telling me she was so frustrated on one occasion because she had checked every closet multiple times during a visit from Aunt Kitty and Aunt Kitty still managed to sneak the ugly sweater in somehow right before she left.) So, with my vintage Foodgun approaching its fourth holder and decade, I think I can definitely continue the tradition, if I find just the right victim...er...recipient.
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