Lemon poppyseed bread, 03.27.13
My in-town mom gave me some leftover lemon curd that she made (in the microwave!), so I found a bread recipe that called for some and made this. I didn’t have the zest, which was a bummer, but I also had no interest in venturing to H-E-B after the month I’d had, so I blew it off. It wasn’t quite as sweet as I expected, but all in all, definitely an experiment worth repeating.
1 1/2 c milk (I used almond out of desperation)
1 c canola oil
1 1/2 c sugar
2 t grated lemon zest (didn’t have this, wish I did)
2 t vanilla extract
3 1/2 c all-purpose flour
1/2 T baking powder
1 t salt
1/4 c poppy seeds
1 c lemon curd
Confectioners’ sugar for dusting
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter two 9-by-5-inch loaf pans and line the bottoms with buttered parchment paper.
In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs and milk until blended. Whisk in the oil, granulated sugar, lemon zest, and vanilla. In another bowl, using a large wooden spoon, stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Stir in the poppy seeds. Combine wet and dry mixtures and stir just until blended.
Spread about three-fourths of the batter in the prepared pans. Drizzle half of the lemon curd over the batter. Spread the remaining batter over the curd, and then top with the remaining lemon curd. Gently swirl the curd around with the tip of a knife.
Bake until the bread is lightly browned and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, about 50 minutes. Cool on a wire rack in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn the loaf out onto the rack and peel off the parchment paper. Turn the loaf top side up and let cool completely on the rack. Dust the top lightly with confectioners’ sugar.
Makes 2 loaves, so you can eat one immediately and no one will be any the wiser.
Ginger lemon bars redux, 08.29.12
Happy birthday, Maaah! When I was describing these to my mom a few weeks ago, I’m pretty sure I heard her drooling on the phone. And since I’ve made her lemon treats each year, and since these probably ship better than anything else I could make (I hope; reports TK), I sent some her way.
Adapted from Serious Eats
Ginger lemon bars, 08.03.12
I’ve been dreaming of making these bars since I had them in a Central Market cooking class a year and change ago. They include two types of ginger — ground and crystallized, or candied — and I’d been halfheartedly checking spice aisles for the latter any time I found myself in a lemon mood. Finally, this weekend, the stars aligned: I’m heading out to The Farm, where I’ve never had a less-than-spectacular meal in my life, and Roz asked me to make a dessert, and one of my bosses at work explained that I only had to look as far as the bulk bins to find that elusive candied ginger. Thus, ginger lemon bars. (Yes, you usually hear those words in the opposite order, but I take a cue from Crayola’s red orange vs. orange red debate and put the more prominent flavor first. Seriously, it’ll clear sinuses.)
Lemon bars, 10.20.11
The lemons I picked out happened to be the least juicy I think I’ve ever seen. The six of them together yielded exactly 2/3c of fresh juice, which, while 1/3c shy of what I usually work with, happens to be the exact amount required for the thinner lemon layer suggested on the recipe, so it all worked out anyway.
From Smitten Kitchen
Whole lemon tart, 08.27.11
Happy birthday, Maah! Meyer lemons are apparently out of season (Sarah Jean, will you make that produce calendar already?), but one and a third of the boring ones worked just fine. In tragic news, the center didn’t set up all the way (or, let’s be honest, really at all — thus no photos of the slices), but my mom was happy with the flavor, and that’s really all that matters. Who knew lemon rind could end up so sweet? P.S. I want a gigantic food processor. Please and thanks.
From Smitten Kitchen
Lemon scones (bake date with Celeste), 08.22.11
Combination birthday treat for Phyllis and offering for girls’ night at Z’s (hi, Matt and Maurice), these are really rather sour scones cut with candied lemon peel and homemade sweet glaze. They would have been delicious for breakfast were they not, you know, already demolished. The moral of the story? I need to go buy that first Baked book.
From Crepes of Wrath
Lemon ginger pound cake, 07.31.11
We interrupt the Ice-Cream-A-Palooza for something [mostly] solid. Before she took off, Shelley commissioned a baked good for her fellow productionauts as a “thanks for covering me while I’m out” gift, so with the unforgiving Texas heat and Nathan’s peculiar aversion to sweets, here we are. If you recall the stout cake attempt from SXSW, you know that sliced cake = stuck cake, in this case twice, but it tastes good all the same.
From The Modern Baker
Lemon yogurt cake, 05.01.11
Because this is for Matt, for having stolen his copy of Elegy on Toy Piano for an inappropriately long time, and because I’m pretty sure this is going to be a rather … outwardly … lemony cake, I think it’s only appropriate to include with it this Dean Young quote:
“In general, err on the side of flavor
just as it is better for the outfielder
to crash into the wall
trying to catch a fly ball
than just mosey after it.
Too much is usually better than not enough.”
From the Barefoot Contessa