Goldy's Kitchen Cookbook

by Diane Mott Davidson

  8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature

  1 cup sugar

  2 large eggs

  1 cup regular or light sour cream

  2 teaspoons vanilla extract (see Note)

  1 tablespoon finely minced orange zest (about 1 large navel orange)

  2 teaspoons finely minced lemon zest (about 1 large lemon)

  ½ cup best-quality guava preserves, such as Queensberry, well stirred

  2 cups all-purpose flour (high altitude: add 2 tablespoons)

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  Powdered sugar, for sprinkling on top of the cakes (optional)

  1. Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Butter and lightly flour two 9-inch round cake pans or two 8-inch square pans.

  2. In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the butter with the sugar until very light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time and beat well, until very well combined. Add the sour cream and stir in thoroughly.

  3. Add the vanilla. Mince the zests together (or whirl them in a coffee grinder dedicated to mincing zests). Stir in along with the preserves. Stir thoroughly.

  4. Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture and stir carefully until thoroughly combined. Do not overmix. The batter will be stiff.

  5. Divide the batter evenly between the two pans. Spread the batter to the edges of the pan.

  6. Bake for 20 to 30 minutes, or just until the cakes pull away from the sides of the pans, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

  7. Cool the cakes in the pans on racks for 10 minutes. Then remove the cakes from the pans and cool completely.

  8. When you are ready to serve the cakes, if you’d like, sift powdered sugar over the tops.

  Makes 2 cakes

  Note: If possible, use Mexican vanilla. You may also substitute 1 teaspoon vanilla extract and 1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste.

  Chapter 6

  Desserts or This Is Not Your Low-Carb Chapter, Either

  People love desserts. Caterers know this; restaurauters know this; children know this. The only people who don’t know it—or who pretend not to—are the women’s magazine writers, who announce (on their fall covers) Lose 30 pounds by Christmas! And of course the photo next to that headline is of a holiday dessert: a three-tier chocolate cake. So maybe the magazine writers do know you can’t, nor should you try, to lose thirty pounds by Christmas. (And by the way, I checked the calorie count on a piece of that particular cover cake. It was northward of 1,500 calories for one slice, with enough carbohydrates to keep one going to New Year’s.)

  So in the interest of full disclosure, let me say that I know people should not overindulge in desserts. People with diabetes need sugar-free sweets, as do any folks who are limiting their intake of simple carbohydrates, which is just about everyone. But limiting is not prohibiting. We all need to be careful, and there’s the rub.

  The tales of people fooling themselves are legion. I once helped cater a very high-end dinner for forty. The host had had a heart attack, and—I learned later—his doctor had sternly warned him to lower his intake of sugar and fat. For dessert, our host had been told to have berries. He ordered the following from us for dinner: tossed salad, rolls with butter, grilled shrimp, new potatoes, and a green vegetable medley, followed by . . . brownies topped with Häagen-Dazs frozen vanilla yogurt, with a few strawberries and blueberries strewn on top. Like the customer in the restaurant who orders fish followed by chocolate cake, the berries don’t cancel out the brownies and—spare me—frozen vanilla yogurt.

  Now for the good news. (You already know it.) Dessert is special because it’s fun. You don’t have to have a whole lot of pie for indulging in it to be joyful. Children love birthday cakes and holiday cookies. If we parents and grandparents take the time to teach them how to make them, as Mrs. Jones did for me, that’s even better.

  Since Jim and I live part of the year at 8,000 feet above sea level, where baking can be challenging, I developed all of the recipes at that altitude. Then I tested them at sea level, often at one of my siblings’ homes in Maryland and New Jersey. At that point I wrote the recipes for sea level, as is the custom in the food business, but put the high-altitude directions, if necessary, in parentheses. Some recipes needed no alteration, thank goodness.

  I’ve learned a thing or two in the years since 1982, when I started on the Goldy books. Now don’t panic when I say this, but as with any other adventure in the kitchen, science is involved. For example, just as osmosis and diffusion are important in brining, diffusion is important in the making of cookies. In order for cookies to bake up with the best flavor, the dough should be refrigerated overnight, to allow the liquids to diffuse through the dry ingredients. Thus, with the cookie recipes that do better with chilling, I have altered them or suggested that you put the dough into the refrigerator overnight. Some cookie recipes require overnight chilling, which is indicated in the recipe.

  And before you ask how a flourless chocolate cake can be a cake without flour, it is because technically, it is not really a cake: It is a (baked) confection.

  It was with desserts that I have had the most fun experimenting over the years. For Dungeon Bars, I thought, I like vanilla; why is it bar recipes never call for more than a teaspoon of the stuff? I wanted to put in more, so I did. The idea for Scout’s Brownies came to me in 1990, as I was falling asleep one night. (Neuroscientists tell us that just as you’re drifting off is one of the times the right side of the brain is most active. The left, critical side goes to sleep first, we’re told, so the right brain is free to take off.)

  What I thought as I hit the pillow was: Why do chocolate cake recipes always use dry cocoa powder, and brownie recipes call for melted unsweetened, or sometimes bittersweet, chocolate? What if I combined cocoa powder and melted bittersweet chocolate?

  So I did, and Scout’s Brownies were born. The combination, and the recipe, have been widely copied and republished (with no credit given to yours truly, but never mind).

  What does this have to do with writing? Remember that right-brain thing? I once heard Sue Grafton say that it behooves all writers to keep a scribble pad by the bed. As you’re on your way to Dreamland and an idea hits, please don’t think, Oh, I’ll remember that, because you probably won’t, which is another thing the neuroscientists tell us.

  This is how I come up with titles. I have learned to trust the process. The original title for the book that became Dying for Chocolate was so long and complicated that I don’t even remember it. Then just as I was going to sleep one night, it came to me: Dying for Chocolate. I had my title. The book was published in 1992, and before I went on the road, I had buttons made up that said:

  I am

  DYING FOR CHOCOLATE

  When I went to conventions and bookstores, I gave them out.

  I couldn’t believe no one had used the title The Cereal Murders, so I snagged it. For a mystery set in the church (where Goldy is catering board meetings), The Last Suppers was a natural. Our youngest son contributed Killer Pancake; my agent came up with The Grilling Season. I had characters who were Fatally Flaky and one who was The Main Corpse. I began to keep an entire file called Possible Titles.

  Another thing that is important for both bakers and artists to remember is that we have permission to make mistakes, to start over, to come at material, or ingredients, or titles, in different ways.

  Now, a personal rant: I’d say that the very worst thing that writers and other artists do to themselves is to take themselves too seriously. Once they announce (you have no idea how many times I’ve heard this), “I’m going to write the Great American Novel,” they’re sunk. They can’t figure out why they’re blocked, why they can’t get anything down on paper.

  Guess what? There are many great American novels.

  So please: Start with a class, then a critique group with regular deadlines.
Write your complete novel. If it doesn’t sell, write another.

  If you have (lots of) money and are desperate to have your story published, hire a ghost writer.

  I think writing is fun. That’s what has kept me at the computer since 1982. You do not have to be published to enjoy yourself while writing.

  With cooking: I started from scratch, gaining proficiency in this area, then acquiring the skills to cater. I took cooking classes from caterers and even took that very eye- and palate-opening course at the California Culinary Academy.

  In writing, I joined writers’ organizations and attended writers’ conferences. A key hint that I learned early on was: Whatever it is you really love to read is what you should be writing. If you want to become a professional writer, there are excellent writers’ organizations that can help. If your taste runs to commercial fiction, there are Romance Writers of America, Mystery Writers of America, Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, and so on. Sisters in Crime is an outstanding organization dedicated to helping female writers of mystery fiction. The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators is also superb. In addition to these, there are classes and organizations for poets, memoir-writers, essayists, and literary novelists.

  In the Denver area, I belonged for many years to Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, dedicated to helping writers of commercial fiction. Another excellent, relatively new group in Denver is Lighthouse Writers. I have attended a number of outstanding workshops given by both groups. In addition, these organizations usually run critique groups where you can take your material.

  I also need to put in a plug here for your local independent bookstore. The people who own and run these wonderful shops are readers. (Trust me, they’re not in it for the money.) They can give the person who wants to write recommendations for reading, as well as point him or her in the direction of good local writing groups.

  So get writing, or baking, or both. Just don’t be too serious about it.

  Note: Because I took cookies, bars, and brownies to bookstores and other events, this is a very long chapter. Those cookie and bar recipes are listed first, followed by the other dessert recipes. When measuring any type of flour, I fold a large piece of wax paper in half, put the measuring cups on the paper, then lightly spoon the flour into the cups. I level off the cups with a kitchen knife. Following the crease in the paper, the leftover flour is easily dumped back into the bag. When making cookies, I bake them one sheet at a time. Except for Goldy’s Nuthouse Cookies, I do not rotate the sheet. Instead, I keep an eye on the cookies as the time ticks down.

  Honey-I’m-Home Gingersnaps

  —CATERING TO NOBODY—

  Gingersnaps that actually “snap” (i.e., crack apart when you break them in two) means people will sometimes complain that they are too hard. If you like a “snappy” cookie, overbake these slightly. If you prefer a softer one, bake them less. No matter what, if your cookies turn out too hard (or become too hard when stored), the trick my husband’s mother used still works: Place the cookies in a plastic container with a lid, allowing some room on top; put a piece of fresh bread on the cookies. Put the lid on the container. In the morning, your cookies will be soft, and the piece of bread will be hard. Osmosis and diffusion again. Go figure.

  2 cups all-purpose flour (high altitude: add 1 tablespoon)

  2 teaspoons baking soda

  1½ teaspoons ground ginger

  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

  ½ teaspoon ground cloves

  ¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  ¼ cup solid vegetable shortening

  8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature

  1 cup sugar

  1 large egg

  ¼ cup honey or molasses

  ¼ teaspoon finely minced lemon zest

  1. Sift together the flour, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and salt. Set aside.

  2. In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, cream the shortening, butter, and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the egg and the honey or molasses until well combined. Stir in the flour mixture and the lemon zest, stirring until well combined, with no traces of flour visible. (If you have time, cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. When you are ready to make the cookies, let the dough come to room temperature.)

  3. Preheat the oven to 350˚F. (High altitude: 375˚F.) Butter 2 baking sheets or line them with silicone baking mats.

  4. Using a 1-tablespoon scoop, place the dough about 2 inches apart on the baking sheets. Do not attempt to fit more than one dozen per sheet. Baking one batch at a time, bake for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the cookies have puffed and flattened and have a crinkly surface.

  5. Cool the cookies completely on racks.

  Makes 32 cookies

  Ice-Capped Gingersnaps

  —TOUGH COOKIE—

  While researching Tough Cookie, I learned many ways a killer could hide in a kitchen on the ski slopes—and make a clean getaway. In keeping with the skiing theme of Tough Cookie, these cookies are “iced.”

  2 sticks (½ pound) unsalted butter, at room temperature

  1½ cups packed dark brown sugar

  2 large eggs

  ½ cup dark molasses

  2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar

  4 cups all-purpose flour

  1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon ground ginger

  1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

  1 teaspoon baking powder

  ½ teaspoon baking soda

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ¼ teaspoon ground allspice

  ¼ teaspoon ground cloves

  ¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

  Icing (recipe follows)

  1. In a large bowl, with an electric mixer, beat the butter until creamy. Add the brown sugar and eggs and beat until well combined, then add the molasses and vinegar and beat thoroughly. Sift together the flour, ginger, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, salt, allspice, cloves, and nutmeg. Add the flour mixture gradually to the butter mixture. (If you have time, cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. When you are ready to make the cookies, let the dough come to room temperature.)

  2. Preheat the oven to 350˚F. Butter 2 baking sheets or line them with silicone baking mats.

  3. Using a 1½-tablespoon scoop, measure out dough and place the cookies 2 inches apart on the baking sheets. Bake, 1 sheet at a time, for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the cookies have puffed. (After you have made the first dozen, allow the cookies to cool on the baking sheet for 1 minute, then on a rack for 10 minutes, then taste one. If it is very dark brown on the bottom and is dry, they are overcooked and you should bake the next sheet for a bit less time. If they are not quite baked through, bake the second sheet for a bit longer.) Allow the cookies to cool on the baking sheet for 1 minute, then transfer to racks to cool completely.

  4. Holding the cooled cookies upside down by the edges, dip the tops into the icing. Allow to cool, icing side up on racks, until the icing hardens. Store between layers of wax paper in an airtight container.

  Makes about 4 dozen cookies

  Icing

  1½ cups powdered sugar

  2 tablespoons heavy (whipping) cream

  ¼ teaspoon vanilla extract

  1 to 2 tablespoons whole milk

  In a shallow bowl, whisk together the powdered sugar, cream, vanilla, and 1 tablespoon of the milk. If the icing seems too thick, add up to 1 tablespoon more milk. Strain the mixture through a sieve into another bowl.

  Chocolate-Dipped Biscotti

  —THE CEREAL MURDERS—

  I decided to develop this recipe after seeing the high prices charged for chocolate-dipped, usually desert-dry biscotti in upscale coffee shops. Biscotti are easy to make; they just require time: first to bake the “loaves,” then to slice the loaves into cookies, then to bake again to make the biscotti, which you cool before dipping in chocolate. And for those of you interested in the origins of words, biscotti and b
iscuits come from the same roots, bis means “twice” and cocere means “to cook.” So biscotti are literally twice-cooked, and they are a great deal of fun to make, especially with children (who may or may not be receptive to the etymology lesson).

  1 cup sugar

  8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

  2 tablespoons anise-flavored liqueur

  1½ tablespoons sour mash whiskey, such as Jack Daniel’s

  2 tablespoons anise seeds

  3 large eggs

  1 cup coarsely chopped almonds

  2¾ cups all-purpose flour

  1½ teaspoons baking powder

  One 12-ounce package semisweet chocolate chips

  2 tablespoons solid vegetable shortening

  1. In a large bowl, stir together the sugar and melted butter. Add the liqueur, whiskey, and anise seeds. Beat in the eggs, then stir in the nuts. Sift the flour and baking powder together. Gently stir in the flour mixture until well incorporated. Cover with plastic wrap and chill at least 3 hours.

  2. Preheat the oven to 375˚F. Butter 2 baking sheets or line them with silicone baking mats.

  3. Shape the dough on the baking sheets into 3 loaves, well spaced apart. Each loaf should be about 2 inches wide and ½ inch thick. Bake for 20 minutes, or until the loaves are puffed and browned. Cool on a rack. Leave the oven on.

  4. When the loaves are cool enough to touch, use a serrated knife to slice each loaf on the diagonal into slices about ½ inch thick. Lay the slices on their cut sides and return them to the oven for an additional 15 minutes, or until lightly browned. Cool completely.

  5. Dip the biscotti in chocolate the day they are to be served. In the top of a double boiler, over simmering water, melt the chocolate chips with the shortening, stirring frequently. Turn off the heat, remove the double boiler top, and stir the chocolate mixture until a candy thermometer reads 85˚F.