The 850-Calorie Cake That's TOTALLY Worth It

I once had a friend who spent half her free time researching clever ways to cut calories in desserts: applesauce instead of oil, chickpeas instead of flour, prune puree in lieu of butter. Sorry, but I want REAL dessert when I indulge. Not some sugar-free, fat-free substitute that forces you to pretend you're satisfied. I'd rather eat the calorie-packed real deal and walk away totally thrilled with my decision. 

Which is why I had no problem eating this lemon cake at the Steelhead Diner in Seattle (the photo above is my replication of it):

The restaurant, near Pike's Place, is known for its seafood, which meant the desserts were pretty much the only thing on the menu I could eat. (I don't eat any kind of fish or shellfish.) I can't say I was disappointed, because I'd been craving a tangy lemon dessert for days. I was pleased the moment by waitress set my plate down in front of me: The presentation alone was impeccable. 

This layered lemon creation may look tiny, but it was so loaded down with rich ingredients—mascarpone cream, lemon curd, white chocolate shavings—that it undoubtedly packed a meal's worth of calories. And it was incredible. I initially intended to share it with my dining companions, but that didn't happen, obviously. 

I was so blown away that I had to try to recreate it at home. I found an old Epicurious recipe with the core elements: homemade lemon curd, a lemon-infused mascarpone layer, and 850 calories per serving. Mmm.

The recipe is for a standard layer cake, but I wanted to mimic the Steelhead Diner Lemon Cake down to the last detail. So I baked the cake batter in a muffin tin, creating cute little cake discs, perfect for stacking. 

This is a very laborious dessert to make. But the mascarpone filling and lemon curd are totally worth the effort—they taste exactly like the diner's versions. The cake's texture kind of came out funky, a little bit tough, although still chewy. But I think I just either over-mixed it or overcooked it. So proceed with caution! 

Lemon Cake with Lemon Curd and Mascarpone

Adapted from Epicurious

What You Need

Cake

6 large eggs, separated

14 Tbsp sugar

1 3/4 cups sifted cake flour (sifted, then measured)

1/4 tsp salt

Syrup

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup boiling water

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

Lemon Curd

1 cup sugar

3/4 cup fresh lemon juice

3 large eggs

3 large egg yolks

1/2 stick chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

Filling and Frosting

2 cups chilled heavy whipping cream

3/4 cup sugar

3 containers (8 oz. each) chilled mascarpone cheese

White chocolate shavings

Put It All Together

1. Position rack in the center of your oven, and preheat to 350° F. 

2. Using an electric mixer, beat the egg yolks and 7 Tbsp sugar, until the mixture is very thick, about 4 minutes. Then in a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until soft peaks form. Add the remaining 7 Tbsp sugar to the whites, one tablespoon at a time, and beat until stiff and glossy. Fold half of the egg whites into the yolk mixture, then stir in half of the flour and 1/4 tsp salt.  Fold in the remaining whites, followed by the remaining flour. Mix until just combined. 

3. Coat a muffin tin with cooking spray, then spoon about 1.5 Tbsp of batter into each cup. (You'll probably need two muffin tins.) Bake 8-10 minutes. Cool in pan on rack, then run a knife around the edge of each cake disc to loosen them. 

2. Prepare the lemon curd: Whisk the sugar, lemon juice, eggs, and egg yolks in a medium metal bowl. Place the bowl over a saucepan of simmering water, making sure the bottom of the bowl doesn't touch the water. Whisk constantly until thickened and a candy thermometer reads 160° F. Remove bowl from water, then add the butter, whisking until melted. Transfer 1 cup of the curd to a small bowl, and reserve the remaining curd for the filling. Press plastic wrap directly onto the surface of each curd. Chill overnight. (I just chilled mine for a few hours, and it was totally fine, FYI.) 

3. Make the syrup: Place sugar in a small metal bowl. Add 1/2 cup boiling water; stir to dissolve sugar. Stir in lemon juice.

4. Prepare the filling and frosting: Beat the whipping cream and sugar in a large bowl until peaks form. Add the mascarpone to the lemon curd you reserved for the filling. Whisk until blended, then fold the whipped cream into the lemon-mascarpone mixture. 

5. Prepare for serving: Spread a spoonful of the lemon-mascarpone mixture in the center of a dessert plate, forming a circle just larger than one of your cake discs. Place a cake disc on top of the filling, with the flat side facing up. Use a pastry brush to spread syrup over the surface of the cake, then spoon on a layer of lemon curd, followed by a layer of the lemon-mascarpone filling. Repeat with a second cake disc. Sprinkle white chocolate shavings on top and on the plate. 

Fat Witch Bakery Lime Squares

My family has a problem with lemon squares. A problem, meaning a total lack of self control. My mom once scarfed an entire batch by herself, then punished the family by refusing to make them for years. I never understood her lemon-square mania until I made them myself. When I bake, I develop a sense of both entitlement and responsibility—a feeling of freedom but also of obligation to eat my desserts. What I'm saying: I ate the entire pan of lemon squares with little assistance and no regrets.

I've since learned my lesson, and only make lemon squares when I have an event to attend. I made these guys for a soldier's coming-home celebration, so traditional lemon didn't seem festive enough. I swapped in limes, and instead of powdered sugar, dusted the tart tops with turbinado sugar to mimic the texture of a margarita's salty rim. 

Fat Witch Bakery Lime Squares
Adapted from Fat Witch Brownies 

What you need

Crust
1 cup flour
½ cup powdered sugar
½ tsp salt
1 stick unsalted butter, chilled, cut into pieces

Filling 
3 large eggs
1 cup sugar
½ cup fresh lime juice (5-6 small limes)*
1 ½ Tbsp lime zest
3 Tbsp flour
Big pinch of salt
2 drops of green food coloring
Turbinado sugar (for dusting) 

*Hint: Zap the limes in the microwave for 10 seconds before juicing them. The heat will get the juices flowing!

Put it all together 

1. Preheat the oven to 350 °F. 
2. To prepare the crust, combine the flour, powdered sugar, and salt in a bowl. Fold in the butter, using a fork or your hands. 
3. Press the flour mixture into the floured pan, and bake for 15 minutes. Allow to cool completely.
4. To make the filling, beat the eggs until frothy, then slowly stir in the sugar. Add the lime juice and zest, and mix until thoroughly combined.
5. Add the flour, salt, and food coloring to the filling mixture, and mix well. Pour over the baked crust, then bake for 20 to 25 minutes. The top should be bubbly and without any liquidy spots. The edges should be brown and pulling away from the pan's edges.
6. Remove from the oven, and cool for an hour. Sprinkle with turbinado sugar, then cut into squares before serving. 

Indulging in Istanbul: Turkish Delights!

Room-service Turkish delight, courtesy of the Four Seasons.

Ever since I read The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe as a kid, I've been intrigued by Turkish delight. In the book, the White Witch enchants the little boy, Edmund, with the treat, so I've always imagined it as being seductively sweet and insanely decadent. After my arrival in Istanbul last week, I didn't have to wait long to try it—as soon as I checked in at my hotel, the desk clerk presented me with a silver platter of the stuff.

A Turkish sweetshop

       What I discovered: Turkish delight is nothing more than a glorified gummy bear. A local baker confirmed my suspicions—she said it consists of cornstarch, sugar, fruit puree, and water, simply melted down and coated with sugar. Not exactly decadent. In fact, the most exciting part of my Turkish delight experience was smuggling it through customs. Apparently, drug dealers coat the candy with cocaine instead of sugar, so it's often confiscated.

Turkish delight display @ the sweetshop

       The sweeter side of Turkey didn't fail me entirely, though. The baklava, for one, was to die for. And I discovered sekerpare, or "sugar bit"—little pastry balls, drenched in syrup and often coated in poppy seeds. (This was my personal favorite). Then there was kabak tatlisi, an odd but tasty poached pumpkin dessert, and badem tatlisi, an almond cake moistened with syrup. All of these treats were bite-sized, and they were collectively referred to as Turkish delights, though they weren't all gelatinous. Delightful, indeed.

       The best part: Each day, a different plate of sweets was left waiting in my hotel room. On the first day, it was chocolate-covered hazelnuts, which I promptly inhaled. Then, it was a baklava variety plate—honey, pistachio, and chocolate—that sustained me after a lunch consisting entirely of fish (which I hate). And, the last day, I received more Turkish delight. Re-gifting victim, to be determined.

Baklava variety plate

Dessert tray @ the Four Seasons Bosphorus

Armut tatlisi: Poached pears with bourbon

Irmik tatlisi: Milky semolina dessert

Dessert buffet @ the Four Seasons

The gooey, delicious middle

Almond cake, poached pumpkin, & poppy seed sekerpare

Funfetti Cheesecake Squares

We've established my obsession with Funfetti. Which means a glowing review of Funfetti Cheesecake Squares from me might seem slightly biased. So I'll open with an outsider opinion:


       "Those bars are so. darn. good. I grew up in a house where cake mix of any kind was verboten, so I'm new to the whole Funfetti thing. A whole wonderful world of baking is opening up!"


       Full disclosure: This email came from an intern who happens to report to me. So she's kind of obligated to like my desserts. (And use words like "verboten.") That said, another taster made a special trip to my office to praise my Funfetti Squares. And this taster feels no obligation to like my desserts (or me). So, I have full confidence in saying:


       This is one dessert you do NOT want to miss out on. 


       The bottom cake layer, where the Funfetti resides, is dense, almost crust-like, while the top tastes similar to cheesecake but with a flakier, creamier texture.  The combination is like crack to my sweet tooth.

Don't even start eating the dough. You won't have any left.

Funfetti Cheesecake Squares


What you need
1 box of Funfetti cake mix
1 stick butter, melted
3 eggs
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1 box powdered sugar (1 lb)
1 tsp vanilla


Put it all together

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Mix cake mix, melted butter, and 1 egg into a doughy mixture. Press into a 9x13" pan. 
3. Beat cream cheese, 2 eggs, sugar, and vanilla together until thoroughly combined. Pour over cake mixture in pan. 
4. Bake for 40 minutes. 

Peeps Rice Krispies Treats

Alarmingly similar to Funfetti Pie.

My relationship with Peeps is fraught. It’s not that I dislike the little sugar-crusted chicks. Rather, it’s because I love them so much. I’m fiercely protective of my marshmallow Peeps—I only buy them at Easter, so I savor them, eating one a day until they’re gone. 

            My love has cost me.  

            The first time it happened, I was 9 years old, a chubby 5^th grader who survived primarily on sugar. I'd carefully tucked my Peeps away in my Easter basket, like any fat kid would, to avoid sharing them. Then one disappeared. I leapt to action, and posted “Missing Peep” signs outside my father’s bedroom. He looks to have eaten more than his fair share of Peeps in life, so he seemed the most likely thief. He never confessed.

            Then, years later, it happened again, on a first date. After dinner, my date and I headed back to my place, and he promptly—rudely—raided my pantry. He zeroed in my Peeps (I can't blame him), and scarfed down every last pink bunny. I never went out with him again.

            All of this is to say, I need a little Peeps therapy. I tried to visit the Just Born factory, conveniently located a few miles from my apartment. They wouldn't let me in. So, I decided to liberate myself by melting down 17—17!—of the fluffy guys for Peeps Rice Krispies Treats. I even burned a few. 

Poor guys. They don't know what's coming.

Peeps Rice Krispies Treats

Adapted from: Serious Eats 

What you need

17 marshmallow Peeps

1.5 Tbsp butter

3 cups Rice Krispies cereal

Sprinkles

  

Put it all together

1. Melt butter in a saucepan over low heat. Add the Peeps, keeping each color in a separate part of the pan, and stir until melted. Do not leave them unattended or they will burn! As soon as the butter melts, remove the pan from the burner.
2. Stir in Rice Krispies cereal, until the melted marshmallow is evenly dispersed.
3. Press into a greased 8" square pan, and while still hot, top with sprinkles, gently squishing them into the Rice Krispies. Cool completely before serving.

Best of the Bake Sale: Funfetti Pie!

My cat, Samson, generously donated his plate for this photo.

As a general rule, I don’t like cake. I find it unsatisfying—it lacks the density of cookies and the oozing sweetness of pie. But there’s one exception: Funfetti cake mix. I’m childishly drawn to the boxed stuff, sort of like I’m attracted to glitter or hot pink. And inexplicably so. The colorful confetti of sprinkles adds little beyond visual appeal—no flavor, no texture—yet I find myself eagerly whipping up any Funfetti-containing recipe. (Or happily blowing my diet on Truffula Chip Pancakes.) First, it was Momofuku Birthday Cake Truffles. Then it was Funfetti Chex Mix (aptly called “crack” by my coworker). Now, it’s Funfetti Pie.

I made the pie for a charity bake sale—a bit risky, but appropriate, I thought. The recipe combines the best of the bake sale: flaky piecrust, sugar cookie dough, Funfetti cake, and buttercream frosting. In other words, enough sugar to send me into a diabetic coma. In a good way, of course.

Funfetti Pie

Adapted from: Cake Spy

What you need

Pre-made flaky piecrust, thawed

Sugar cookie dough

Funfetti cake mix

1 cup water

1/3 cup vegetable oil

3 eggs

Sprinkles

Frosting

1.5 cups powdered sugar

1 c butter, softened

½ tsp vanilla extract

½ Tbsp whipping cream

Naked.

Put it all together

1. Preheat oven to 350°F.
2. Press an even layer of sugar cookie dough, about ½” thick, into the bottom of the pie crust.
3. Prepare the Funfetti cake mix according to package directions, using the water, oil, and eggs. Pour it into the pie crust, until it’s about two-thirds full. (You will have leftover cake mix.*)
4. Bake in the preheated oven for 30-35 minutes. The cake should be golden brown. Remove from oven, and let cool completely.
5. To make the frosting, use a stand mixer to blend the butter and powdered sugar. Start on low speed, then once it’s fluffy, crank it up to medium speed for 3 minutes.
6. Add the vanilla and whipping cream, continuing to mix on medium speed for 1 more minute. Spread frosting on completely cooled pie, then decorate with sprinkles.

*I suggest eating it by the spoonful, since calories don’t count while you’re baking. Or make cupcakes. Whichever.

 Sorry, iPhoto blemish remover wouldn't hide my cutting-board mess.

The results

Critic #1: "Just what I needed. It was delicious, and exactly what you'd think Funfetti pie would taste like."

Critic #2: "Just like you: different, interesting, irresistible, and not TOO sweet." 

I'm still deciding if I need therapy after comment #2. 

Magnolia Bakery Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

I walked past Magnolia Bakery in Manhattan last week with great regret. Not because I indulged—but, rather, because I didn’t. I was in a hurry, so I was forced to resentfully trudge past. My one consolation: the Magnolia Bakery cookbook waiting on my bookshelf at home. Limited by the contents of my pantry—a paltry supply, at best—I opted to test-drive Magnolia's Oatmeal Raisin Cookies.

With some hesitation.

I'm a bit of a cookie snob. I’m fiercely loyal to my mom’s deliciously crispy oatmeal cookies—I have to be, since she so lovingly allowed me spoonfuls of the dough as a kid—but my real soft spot is for soft cookies. Magnolia didn't fail me. 

Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

Adapted from: The Magnolia Bakery Cookbook

What you need

2 ½ cups all-purpose flour

¼ tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

1 ½ cups firmly packed light brown sugar

2 large eggs, at room temp

1 Tbsp vanilla extract

1 ¼ cups rolled oats*

1 ½ cups raisins

*I love to experiment with flavor combinations in my cookies, so I often use sweetened instant oatmeal. This time, I added Quaker Chocolate Chip Oatmeal. My favorite combo: Maple Brown Sugar Oatmeal, with a touch of real maple syrup drizzled into the dough. Keep in mind, instant oats lend less texture than old-fashioned oats do.

Warning: You won't be able to eat just one.

Put it all together

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. 
2. Mix together the flour, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
3. Cream the butter (make sure it’s soft!) with the brown sugar until smooth, about 3 minutes. Mix in the eggs one by one, then stir in the vanilla. Add the oats and flour mixture, and mix well before adding the raisins. Refrigerate dough for half an hour.
4. Roll dough into 1” balls, and place on a cookie sheet covered in parchment paper. Bake for 14-17 minutes. (Hint: The shorter the baking period, the softer the cookies.)
5. Cool on the cookie sheet for a minute, then transfer to a cooling rack.

The results

I, admittedly, love all things sweet. So, as standard protocol, I have at least one male and one female review my baked goods.

Her review: "I like that it's not too sweet. It's a smoother texture than the typical oatmeal cookie, but I can still taste the oatmeal's flavor and chewiness."

Rating: 3.5/5

His review: "Buttery. I can taste the raisin, but I can't detect the oatmeal."

Rating: 4/5