Category Archives: baking

Baked Alaska The Dessert, Not The State

Posted on by | No Comments

A large lakeside resort complex on Green Island in Lake George, New York, featuring white buildings with brown roofs, outdoor pools, landscaped grounds, and a long dock extending into the lake. The resort is surrounded by dense green forest and distant mountains under a clear sky.

Growing Up a Resort Town Kid

Here we go again, falling down the nostalgia rabbit hole.

A friend of mine posted some vacation photos on Instagram, and one of them was captioned Sagamore Hotel. I immediately dropped him a note: Is that the Sagamore on Lake George? The one on Green Island in Bolton Landing?

When he said yes, they were vacationing there, I of course responded, That’s my hometown! Not the Sagamore itself, of course, but Bolton Landing. To this day it still surprises me when anyone says they know where it is. Everyone has heard of Lake George, but not Bolton Landing.

But I’m getting off track.

The Sagamore was a big convention hotel when I was growing up. They catered to business conferences, and then came the “social season,” when the rich folks from New York City arrived to enjoy the lake. That’s how us locals thought of them. After all, we couldn’t afford to stay at The Sagamore — so obviously the people who did must be rich, right? It was just one of those unspoken small‑town truths.

A spacious hotel lobby with rustic décor, featuring a large round wooden table with decorative vases, comfortable seating areas with earth‑tone armchairs and sofas, stone tile flooring, framed photos on the wall, and a mounted deer head creating a cozy lodge‑style atmosphere.

 

I had a summer job working with the local photographer. Mostly it meant sitting in the lobby next to a display board of photos and taking orders, but occasionally he’d bring me along for banquet night as his assistant. My job was simple: keep the film cartridges loaded and ready to hand over fast. This was especially important when the banquet started.

 

 

All the diners would be seated, and then the kitchen doors swung open. White‑suited chefs and waiters paraded in with huge trays balanced on their shoulders. And coming up the rear was the pièce de résistance — the flaming Baked Alaska. It was always quite a spectacle.

A row of formally dressed servers carrying dome‑shaped Baked Alaska desserts with browned meringue and small blue flames on top, presenting them in a coordinated procession during a banquet. The warm lighting and flames create a dramatic, celebratory atmosphere.

I had no idea then what Baked Alaska actually was, except that it was a dessert that made a grand entrance in flames. Imagine my surprise when I eventually learned it was basically ice cream. What? Doesn’t it melt?

I’m older now and a bit more kitchen‑wise, but I still don’t know if I’m brave enough to try this retro dessert.

Are you?

A Little History Before We Get to the Recipe

Baked Alaska goes all the way back to the mid‑1800s, when chefs were experimenting with the science of heat insulation. The idea was almost comical: wrap ice cream in a thick layer of meringue, then blast it with high heat. The meringue acts like a fluffy winter coat, protecting the frozen center.

The dessert became famous at Delmonico’s Restaurant in New York City, where chef Charles Ranhofer originallyA close-up slice of Baked Alaska showing layers of sponge cake, chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream, all covered in a thick coating of toasted meringue with golden-brown peaks. called it Alaska, Florida — cold inside, hot outside. Over time the name evolved into Baked Alaska, and restaurants began presenting it with full theatrical flair: dimmed lights, flaming rum, and waiters parading it through the dining room like royalty.

That’s the version I saw at the Sagamore — the classic banquet‑hall Baked Alaska, flaming and dramatic and absolutely unforgettable.

But the classic version is… well… a production. So here’s a simplified, home‑friendly version that gives you the magic without the stress.

🍨 Simplified Baked Alaska (Home-Friendly Version)

Ingredients

  • 1 pound cake (store‑bought works perfectly)
  • 1 pint ice cream (any flavor you love)
  • 3 large egg whites
  • ½ cup sugar
  • ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
  • Pinch of salt

Instructions

  1. Prepare the base: Cut the pound cake into a circle or square slightly larger than your ice cream dome. Place it on a parchment‑lined baking sheet.
  2. Add the ice cream: Scoop the ice cream into a rounded mound on top of the cake. Freeze for at least 1 hour so it’s firm.
  3. Make the meringue: Beat egg whites and salt until foamy. Gradually add sugar and vanilla. Continue beating until stiff, glossy peaks form.
  4. Cover completely: Spread the meringue over the ice cream and cake, making sure it’s sealed with no gaps. This insulation is what keeps the ice cream from melting.
  5. Bake quickly: Bake at 500°F for 3–5 minutes, just until the meringue is golden. (Or use a kitchen torch for even easier browning.)
  6. Serve immediately: Slice and enjoy the magic — warm meringue outside, cold ice cream inside.

A dome-shaped Baked Alaska covered in toasted meringue with golden-brown peaks, sitting on a decorative plate with fresh strawberries blurred in the background.

Final Thoughts

So there you have it — a little Baked Alaska nostalgia. It’s one of those retro desserts that deserves a comeback. Meringue and ice cream? Yes, please.

 

Summer’s End: Marshmallows, S’mores, and Sweet Debates

Posted on by | No Comments

Two marshmallows on a wooden skewer being roasted over an open flame, turning golden brown with lightly charred edges above a bright orange campfire.

Labor Day BBQ’s and Marshmallow Questions

Here we are at Summer’s End — the last of the BBQ hurrahs. So naturally, I have questions. Important questions. Marshmallow‑based questions.

S’mores Fans vs. Marshmallow Purists

Are you all die‑hard S’mores fans, or do some of you prefer a simple, toasty marshmallow now and then?

Don’t get me wrong — I enjoy a S’mores occasionally. But they’re really sweet. I have a sweet tooth, but more than one S’mores and my stomach stages a full revolt even while my taste buds are chanting more, more, more. Marshmallows on their own, though? Those I can handle just fine.

Golden Brown or Burned to a Crisp?

If you are a marshmallow purist, what’s your style?

  • Patient golden brown
  • Burn it to a crisp and grab it before it falls off the stick

I admit I like both, but the burned, hot, bubbly ones probably win for me. ( I lack patience for that golden , brown deliciousness)

A Word About Peeps

Question three: Do you like Peeps?

You know — those pink and yellow marshmallow bunnies and chicks that only appear at Easter. I love them. I don’t stick them in the fire (I’m not a monster), but I can nosh down a whole box of those little treats.

They’re also great fun for decorating cakes. The chicks make a cute sunflower cake, and the bunnies look adorable on a pastel Easter cake.

Homemade Marshmallows: Are You Brave Enough?

Last question: Do any of you make your own marshmallows?

I’m told it’s not hard. I even saw kids make them on Kids Baking Championship — and those kids are amazing. I’ve got a recipe for homemade marshmallows, but I’ve never tried it.

Here it is if you’re feeling adventurous.

Homemade Marshmallows

Ingredients

  • Nonstick cooking spray
  • 1 cup powdered sugar
  • 3 (1/4‑oz.) packages unflavored powdered gelatin
  • 1 cup cold water
  • 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
  • 1 cup light corn syrup
  • 1/2 tsp kosher salt
  • 2 tsp vanilla bean paste or extract
  • 2 (3.5‑oz.) dark chocolate bars, roughly chopped (optional)
  • Chocolate jimmies, for garnish (optional)

Directions

  1. Line a 9‑inch square baking pan with plastic wrap. Lightly grease with cooking spray and dust generously with powdered sugar.
  2. In a stand mixer bowl, sprinkle gelatin over 1/2 cup cold water. Whisk to combine and let bloom for 10 minutes.
  3. In a saucepan, combine sugar, corn syrup, salt, and remaining 1/2 cup water. Cook over medium‑high until dissolved, about 3 minutes. Continue cooking until the syrup reaches 240°F, about 10 minutes.
  4. Turn mixer to medium‑low and carefully drizzle in the hot syrup. Increase speed to high and beat until thick and fluffy, 10–12 minutes. Stir in vanilla.
  5. Pour mixture into prepared pan, smooth the top, and dust with powdered sugar. Let stand uncovered overnight.
  6. Lift marshmallow slab onto a cutting board. Cut into squares, dusting the knife with powdered sugar as needed. Toss pieces in powdered sugar to coat. Store up to 1 week.
  7. Optional: Melt chocolate in the microwave in 30‑second intervals.
  8. Dip marshmallows halfway into chocolate, sprinkle with jimmies, and chill until set.

Tip: If you’re dipping them in chocolate, skip dusting the side that gets dipped — the chocolate sticks better.

Recipe by Sloane Layton.

 

If you’re dedicated enough to try the recipe — or if you have a tried‑and‑true version of your own — let me know. I don’t think I’m quite ready to dive into this yet, but I’m cheering on anyone who is.

 

 

 

Chocolate Cake: Because Summer Needs Dessert Too

Posted on by

Freshly baked chocolate sheet cake covered in thick white frosting and rainbow sprinkles, resting on a cooling rack in a home kitchen.

A Chocolate Cake Kind of Day

Lately I haven’t been testing too many recipes. We’re deep into the summer months, which to me means hamburgers, hot dogs, and steak. I grew up with steak — my Dad loved it — but beef has been outrageous this year. So when my local supermarket had sirloins on sale three weeks in a row, well… there was no contest. Steak it was.

Lunch was a salad so I could enjoy my dinner without guilt. During this all‑too‑brief period of indulgence, I ignored the recipes landing in my email with startling regularity. Eventually I decided it was time to clear them out — and found a hidden gem I had to try.

Deliciously Moist Chocolate Cake

I am not adverse to using a box cake mix. They’re perfectly fine: open a box, toss in an egg and some oil, beat, bake, done. No muss, no fuss. I also hate frosting layer cakes (unless it’s carrot cake… ummmm cream cheese frosting). But I’m getting off track.

Buried in my emails was a recipe for a chocolate cake that I couldn’t resist.

Cake Ingredients

  • 1 ¾ cups flour
  • ¾ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 1 ¾ cups granulated sugar
  • 2 teaspoons baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 2 teaspoons espresso powder (optional)
  • ½ cup vegetable oil
  • 2 large eggs (room temperature)
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 cup buttermilk (room temperature)
  • 1 cup freshly brewed strong hot coffee or hot water

Instructions

Step 1: Preheat oven to 350°. Grease two 9‑inch cake pans (I used a 9×13 sheet pan because, as I said, I hate frosting layer cakes). If using round pans, line with parchment rounds and grease the parchment.

Step 2: Whisk flour, cocoa powder, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt, and espresso powder (if using) in a large bowl. Set aside.

Step 3: Using a stand or hand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, mix oil, eggs, and vanilla on medium‑high until combined. (If you’ve got a strong arm, a hand whisk works too.) Add the buttermilk and mix until combined.

Step 4: Pour the dry ingredients into the wet. Add the hot coffee or water and whisk/beat on low until the batter is completely combined. Batter will be thin.

Step 5: For 9‑inch pans: divide batter evenly and bake 23–26 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. For a 9×13 sheet pan: bake 35–40 minutes.

Step 6: Let the cake cool at least 1 hour, then frost with your favorite frosting.

What Makes This Cake Different?

For me, the biggest difference is the buttermilk. I went 60 years without ever using it, and now it seems I’m reaching for it at least once a week. This cake calls for a full cup.

If you don’t have buttermilk, here’s a DIY substitute: Add 2 teaspoons white vinegar or lemon juice to a measuring cup, then fill with room temperature whole milk to reach 1 cup. Let sit 5 minutes. It will curdle — that’s exactly what you want.

Coffee or espresso powder is common in chocolate cakes because it deepens the chocolate flavor. It does not make the cake taste like coffee. Still, I don’t like coffee — not even coffee ice cream — so I skipped the espresso powder and used hot chocolate instead of coffee. Hot water felt too bland.

The recipe warned that the batter would be thin, and it was. Very thin. But I soldiered on. It also said the center might collapse even if the cake is fully baked because cocoa powder can’t support the weight of such a moist batter. Another good tip. So don’t beat yourself up if it looks like your cake fell. Just wait until you taste it.

Final Thoughts

I used traditional Crisco‑based birthday cake frosting instead of buttercream. It’s messy to clean up, but so rich and yummy that it’s worth every sticky bowl.

This cake is more involved than a box mix or even my usual from‑scratch cakes, but the difference is noticeable. They aren’t kidding when they say moist. The crumb is beautiful, and it holds together nicely.

This one is definitely going into my special‑occasion rotation.

 

Home Again, Home Again… for Donut Muffins

Posted on by

Mini cinnamon‑sugar donut muffins nestled in a parchment‑lined bowl, their tops glistening with sugar, with soft greenery and a white flower behind them.

From Road Trips to Donut Muffins

After weeks of writing about Boston, Cape Cod, whales, candy shops, and national parks, I’ve been thinking about that feeling you get when the traveling finally pauses. The suitcase goes back into its corner, the cats settle in around you, and home wraps itself around your shoulders like a familiar sweater. Exploring is wonderful — but coming home is its own kind of sigh.

So today, instead of another adventure, let’s step back into the kitchen and savor something warm and nostalgic: old-fashioned homemade donuts… or at least their modern cousin. I made mini donut muffins the other day, and they tasted exactly like cinnamon sugar donut holes — no frying oil required. Sometimes the sweetest part of traveling is the moment you return.

Those homemade donuts have been calling me ever since I had a crispy Old Fashioned from the Colonial Donut Kiosk in the lobby of Morton Hospital. That really took me back. It’s one of my favorite memories: watching my mom drop raw donuts — and the leftover holes — into hot oil. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the pot (hot oil and kids don’t mix), but we were always ready to start sampling as soon as they were draining on paper towels.

I was almost at the point of trying to make some myself. I just needed to figure out what to do with the used oil.

While I pondered that dilemma, I ran across a recipe for mini donut muffins. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting much, but the recipe was simple and I hoped it would satisfy my craving. They turned out surprisingly good — good enough that I want to share them with you. So pull up a chair and pour yourself a cuppa. Imagine a plate of warm, tender mini muffins sitting right in front of you.

Donut Mini Muffins

Servings: 24 mini muffins

Ingredients

Muffins:

• ½ cup granulated sugar

• ¼ cup margarine, melted

• ¾ teaspoon ground nutmeg

• ½ cup milk

• 1 cup all-purpose flour

• 1 teaspoon baking powder

For Finishing:

• ¼ cup margarine, melted

• ½ cup granulated sugar

• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Directions

  1. Preheat oven to 375°. Grease a 24-cup mini muffin tin.
  2. Make the muffins: Mix sugar, margarine, and nutmeg together in a large bowl. Stir in milk, then mix in flour and baking powder until just combined. Spoon into prepared muffin cups, filling each ½ full.
  3. Bake until the tops are light golden brown, 15–20 minutes. Remove from oven and transfer to a wire rack.
  4. Immediately place melted margarine in one bowl and mix sugar and cinnamon together in another.
  5. Dip the top of each warm muffin in melted margarine, then dip in the sugar mixture to coat. Let cool for 10 minutes before serving.

 

Notes • I used stick butter in place of margarine.

• I tried rolling the whole muffin in the butter and coating, like donut holes. It isn’t necessary — just dipping the tops gives a better balance.

• You won’t get a crispy exterior like deep-fried donuts, but the nutmeg and cinnamon will certainly give you a donut vibe.

Let me know how yours turn out.

 

Those Silly Kitty Cats Are at It Again

Posted on by

 

And a Four‑Year Mystery Is Finally Solved

Banner and Balboa, those silly kitties,  have a talent — not just for finding things, but for finding the exact things I don’t want them to find. Rubber bands, paper clips, bottle caps, the occasional bug… and yes, even my car keys. (If you missed Banner’s infamous key‑hiding caper, you can read the full story here: Tale of the Lost Keys — October 3, 2021.)

Their preferred playground is the middle of my tiny kitchen floor. Runner‑up: the bathtub. At least in the bathroom they’re out from underfoot.

Anyway, there has been a mystery in my house for more than four years. It only ever annoyed me when I wanted to use my food processor — and only when I wanted to grate carrots — so you can see why it wasn’t exactly top of mind.

The Food Processor Era Begins

I bought that food processor in a moment of weakness. A literal one. I had just shredded a five‑pound bag of carrots by hand for a carrot cake, and my arm was about to fall off. My thought was “There has to be an easier way.” I watch the Food Network. I watch the cooking shows. You drop ingredients in, press a button, and voilà — shreds, purées, grinds, blends. It was time to modernize.

I brought it home, plugged it in, dropped in a carrot or two, and it worked beautifully. Perfect shreds. Coleslaw here I come. I gave it a place of honor on the counter.

The Carrot Catastrophe

Now, I’m not always the most mechanical of people, and the next time I tried to shred carrots… mush. Tiny bits. Sand. What was going on?

I ran to my computer and watched YouTube videos. Looked simple. Tried again. Same result. Back to the old‑fashioned hand grater I went, but the food processor was still great for bread crumbs, crushing crackers, and grinding honey grahams for pie crusts.

Over the years I kept reviewing how‑to videos and giving carrots another try. No success.

Then one day, I had an epiphany. I Googled the parts of a food processor.

And there it was. The answer to my question. The missing part. The center shaft.

 

I only had the shaft with the blade. So when I put carrots in, they got shredded by the disc and then immediately chopped to bits by the blade underneath. I couldn’t remove the blade without having the center shaft to put in its place.

Head‑slap. Duh.

 

Enter: The Culprit

Okay all you culinary experts, stop laughing. I can explain.

Not long after I got Balboa, I found the little culprit in the kitchen playing with a plastic thing. I had no idea what it was — I thought it was something he found under the sink. He used to go in and out of there all the time, and I figured it was leftover from when the workers replaced the countertops.

Now that I realize what I’m missing, I recognize the thing as the shaft from the food processor.

Needless to say, it’s long gone. It was tossed even before the Great Kitchen Declutter.

Balboa posing in the middle of the kitchen with the food‑processor shaft he ‘liberated,’ looking very satisfied with himself.

The Wallet‑Smacking Finale

The worst part? That tiny plastic thingy costs almost as much as a new food processor to replace. Can you believe that.

One small moment of stupidity… one big bang on the wallet. But at least I finally know why I couldn’t shred carrots with my food processor.

When that part gets here, I may have to make a carrot cake to celebrate.