423 recipes. Page 16 of 18
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Butter, sugar, eggs, and flour go in at nearly equal weights, giving the dense, close crumb of a classic pound cake, and lemon zest and juice turn it bright. Rubbing the zest into the flour first spreads its oils so the aroma is even throughout. A crack running down the top is the sign of a good rise, and a thin powdered sugar glaze, poured once the cake has cooled, sets into a sweet, glossy film.
Strips of dough laid in a lattice, in the traditional Austrian way, let the raspberry jam bubble up and show through in deep ruby squares. Ground almonds in the dough make the crust shorter and more crumbly than a plain flour pastry.
The dough is fine semolina, which crumbles apart in the mouth, and each cookie hides a date paste spiced with cinnamon. After the filling is wrapped, a mold or fork presses the pattern on top, and they leave the oven while the tops are still pale and only the edges have gone light gold. Baked any darker, they lose that crumbly tenderness and turn hard.
A little more cornmeal than flour gives these a coarse, crumbly texture. Crisp crumbled bacon and maple syrup both go into the batter, so salty and sweet take turns from one bite to the next.
Brown sugar instead of white gives this pound cake a caramel edge that lines up with the woodsy sweetness of maple syrup. The crumb stays tight and buttery, as a pound cake should, with toasted pecans scattered through every slice. It tastes better the next day: wrapped overnight, the maple flavor moves through the whole loaf and the cake turns rounder and more even in flavor.
Two ropes of brioche, one plain and one tinted with matcha, are twisted and tied into knots, so each piece pulls apart in alternating white and green. Toasted sesame seeds pressed on before the surface dries get toasted a second time in the oven.
White chocolate melted with butter, rather than dark chocolate or cocoa, makes up the base, and matcha turns the whole pan bright green. The cocoa butter in white chocolate is what gives these a dense, fudgy chew instead of a cakey crumb. Chips stirred into the batter only half melt, leaving small pockets of concentrated sweetness.
Puff pastry normally balloons in the oven; here it bakes under parchment and a heavy tray so it comes out as three flat, brittle sheets that can carry a filling. Between them goes a vanilla pastry cream thickened with egg yolks and cornstarch, cooked on the stove until it holds a line. A fork pressed through the stack breaks the flaky layers first and then meets smooth, cool custard.
Doenjang, Korean fermented soybean paste, goes into the filling here, beaten into butter with maple syrup and spread between thin sheets of enriched dough. The slices stand upright in a loaf pan and bake into a loaf you tear apart layer by layer, each sheet carrying salty, savory paste and maple sweetness together. The bread pulls apart most easily while still warm, before the filling firms up as it cools.
Cut into with a spoon, the thin cake wall gives way and warm chocolate runs onto the plate. That molten center is not a hidden filling but the same dark chocolate batter, baked hot and fast so only the outside sets. Timing does most of the work. Residual heat keeps cooking the middle after the ramekins leave the oven, and the cakes are turned out right away to stop it.
Small balls of milk dough are dipped in melted butter, rolled in cinnamon sugar, and piled into a Bundt pan, so the finished ring is pulled apart by hand rather than sliced. In the oven the butter and sugar run down between the pieces and cook into a sticky, caramel-like coating, while the inside of each piece stays soft.
A single mugwort butter dough does double duty: part of it is pressed into a firm base, and the rest goes over a layer of mashed chestnut. That topping is just the leftover dough pinched into pea-sized bits and scattered, and it bakes up uneven and craggy.
Mugwort powder is stirred into a dark chocolate brownie batter, and a swirl of cream cheese loosened with cream runs across the top. Both the herb and the chocolate lean bitter, so the tang of the cream cheese is what keeps each square from tasting heavy.
Mixed nuts, toasted and tossed in a cream caramel, are packed into a blind-baked butter crust and baked a second time. The filling is mostly nuts held together by caramel that firms as the tart cools, and each slice crunches instead of turning sticky.
Rolled oats outnumber the flour in this dough and drive the texture: chewy, a little rough, clearly an oat cookie. Brown sugar and cinnamon give a warm sweetness, and raisins sit through it as soft, juicy bits. Resting the dough in the fridge lets the oats soak up moisture and firms the butter again, which helps the cookies hold their shape as they bake.
Omija, the Korean five-flavor berry, goes in as a syrup stirred into the frangipane, tinting the almond cream a faint red and giving it a tart edge. The mixed berries on top sink halfway into the almond filling as it puffs in the oven, and a cut slice shows fruit set into the cream.
Slice an opera cake and you see thin, level stripes: almond sponge, espresso buttercream, dark chocolate, repeated. The sponge uses only almond flour, eggs, and powdered sugar, with no wheat flour at all. Coffee leads the flavor, the chocolate adds bitterness underneath, and the overall result is far less sweet than it looks.
Rolled in from both long edges and sliced, sugared puff pastry opens as it bakes into the symmetrical butterfly shape that gives palmiers their look. The sugar melts and caramelizes to amber, soft while hot and shatter-crisp once cool, around light, flaky layers inside.
Corn kernels, blended with cream and eggs, flavor this Mexican cake, which is why it tastes of sweet corn rather than the gritty cornmeal of cornbread. The puree spreads color and corn flavor through every slice, and the butter and cream give a dense, moist crumb closer to pound cake than to an airy sponge.
These small Filipino rolls get their slightly gritty, crumbly surface from breadcrumbs pressed onto the tops before baking. Underneath, a milk, butter, and egg dough tears into soft strands, with only mild sweetness. When the butter first goes in, the dough turns slippery; that is normal, and further kneading brings it back to smooth and stretchy.
Traditional pandoro from Verona goes through several rounds of kneading and long rises. This home version cuts it down to one sponge and two proofs, so it fits into half a day. The crumb won't be quite as fine as a bakery loaf, but you still get the tall star shape and a yellow interior rich with butter and yolks.
Candied orange peel and raisins run through this tall Italian loaf, built on a dough rich with eggs and butter. The fruit goes in only after the butter has fully disappeared into the dough. Added sooner, it leaves the dough slack, and a slack dough will not climb the high cylindrical mould. With a 70-minute first rise and a second rise in the mould, this is a bake to start early in the day.
Sliced almonds bake onto a ring of choux, and the split ring is filled with whipped cream folded with hazelnut praline paste. Using whipped cream instead of a butter-based mousseline keeps the nut flavour while making each bite lighter. Eggs go into the choux only until it falls from the spatula in a slow V, and finishing with some beaten egg left in the bowl is common.
Spoonfuls of soft batter sit on sliced peaches with gaps between them, and the fruit juice bubbles up through those gaps as it bakes. The topping is mixed only until the flour disappears, which keeps it tender instead of heavy.