When I was about 12 years old, I had what might have been deemed an unhealthy obsession with the mini lemon-poppy seed bundt cakes at one of our local bakeries. I would eat them whenever I could, relishing especially the crispy, buttery bottom sides of the little things. They were moist and delicate and wonderful, but I think the thing I was most enamored with was the shape: the treats had the form of full-sized bundt cakes, molding and all, but were about the size of a standard muffin. I forgot about my erstwhile gustatory preoccupation at some point while I was growing up and getting old and boring and less willing to eat cake for breakfast. But thankfully, a little while ago I happened upon a recipe for lemon cake in Maida Heatter's Book of Great Desserts. For some reason, although the recipe made no mention of poppy seeds, I was reminded of my childhood obsession, and thought it would be fun to tweak Maida's probably already stellar recipe and perhaps approximate the glory of the mini bundt cakes of my youth. The 12-year-old in me squealed with joy and anticipation.

come squeal with me, beyond the horizon.

I'm pretty much a sucker for any treat that involves the words "caramel" or "caramelized." I can't help myself. Whether it's chocolate with caramel, or caramelized onions, or coconut with caramel, or anything topped with caramel sauce, I'm pretty much on board. So when I was sifting through the annals of Lottie and Doof and came across this favorite cake of his, my culinary interest was immediately piqued.

get piqued, over yonder.

Apparently, I was in the mood for some fancy-pants baking this past weekend. Like, multiple-day, million-step, fussy-as-can-be baking. As I mentioned in my last post, I'd been fantasizing recently about chestnuts. I just love those little guys so much; they're sweet, they're meaty, and I feel like they're a bit underutilized in the baking world. I mean, sure, one always hears about chestnuts going in turkey stuffing or whatnot, and of course there are always those dudes selling them on the street, but I don't think I see chestnut desserts quite as often as would be desirable. So I started poking around for something inspiring to do with chestnuts, and lo, I found one over at the Queen of Domesticity's place: a chestnut cake filled with chestnut pastry cream, frosted with a bittersweet ganache, and finally topped again with a chocolate-armagnac glaze. Holy moly.

Holy moly, indeed, over this way.

A couple of weeks ago, Kenan and I were over at Boots and Coach's place, enjoying a nice dinner. Afterward, while we were digesting and enjoying some quality bonding time with the sofa, I started leafing through a few cookbooks I had brought over to plan for my next baking adventure. Looking over my shoulder, Boots noticed a recipe for steamed gingerbread pudding and asked, coyly, if I could make something similar for her half-birthday, which fell the following week. I said yes whole-heartedly. I mean, I probably hadn't heard anybody mention half-birthdays since middle school, but I find something charming about the idea that people in their mid-twenties can still get excited about (and celebrate, and bake for) un-birthdays. So we set the (half-)birthday celebration for last Friday, and I started researching.

get spicy, over this-a-way.

Some weekends are perfect for french toast. I was sick all last week, and the cold was definitely presenting some major deterrents to venturing outside for more than the most important of errands, so some warm, comforting food seemed like it would do just the trick. I'd made french toast dozens of times before, but never with home-made bread, so I decided to try out the brioche recipe from my brand new baking bible and then use the bread to make french toast.

get all french like, over this way.

Hello, friends! I don't know about you, but I had a very exciting holiday season, and I pretty much made out like a bandit. Among the host of awesome baking tools and cookbooks I received was a standing mixer from my favorite certain someone. It's awesome and amazing, and also makes me fairly certain he has a huge crush on me. It's grey and lovely and fits quite nicely into our increasingly fort-like apartment. Granted, it also takes up a surprisingly large percentage of our kitchen's already hard-pressed food prep space market, but it's still the coolest thing ever, and I'm certain it's going to do lovely things for us.

lovely recipes and lovely stories, yonder

It's been a time for serious baking, friends and neighbors. One of my (now former) work colleagues, Sarah, was leaving the law firm to move to the Bahamas and get married and stuff, and there was to be a party so we could all say our goodbyes. Dessert's kinda become my thing around the office (what else would I do with all the leftovers?), so I asked Sarah if she would like me to make anything sweet to bring to the festivities. At first she mentioned black forest cake, which I'd never heard of and sounded exciting, but then she remembered that one of her good friends who would be in attendance that night has celiac disease. So instead, she requested some sort of flourless something. I'd made Tartine's chocolate souffle cake on Memorial day, and it was fantastic, but I felt it would be fun to try something new and exciting.

caking, shuffling, and fancy parties, around the bend.

You're in for a treat, folks, because this week, you will know the glory that is messy cookie cake.

What is it, you ask? I'll tell you, but you have to realize that the end result is so much more amazing that you can imagine just by seeing the description: it's basically a cake made out of chocolate chip cookie dough and a sweet cream cheese sauce. And it's so much more than either cookie or cake could ever be. As a child, it was one of my favorite things in my mom's arsenal of sweet treats, and as an adult, it's the dessert I request every time I go home to visit. When warm, and eaten with a glass of ice-cold milk, this cake like sugary-chocolatey nirvana. It is a part of my childhood. Also, it's freakin' delicious. Are you ready?

Are you ready?

Usually it's a little difficult to bring oneself to do a lot of elaborate baking shenanigans in the summertime in New York, what with the humidity and the stickiness and the death by sweating and such. But seeing as how it's basically been raining for two straight months (making us city dwellers feel like we've somehow been transported to the opposite coast), there's been plenty of sleepy, cool baking weather to go around. All of which turned out to be quite convenient when I decided to bake a very elaborate and time consuming cake for Father's Day (I realize this was two weeks ago; I've been busy... with stuff).

more stuff this-a-way.

Our friends Coach and Boots were kind enough to take Kenan and me with them up to Boots' parents' place in New Hampshire for the long weekend. I was excited to do some baking for a discerning audience; Boots comes from a family of epicureans, and besides, what better excuse is there for fancy kitchen tricks than a holiday, and a big ol' fancy suburban kitchen? As Boots' mom recently discovered that she has coeliac disease, and also because I felt the need to impress said mom (I'd been told many tales of her prodigious cooking skills), I decided to go all-out and do a flourless chocolate cake.

the gluten-free festivities continue across the lake.