You CAN have your cake and it too!

This week at culinary school, we were introduced to the “gâteau quatre-quarts”. The literal translation of this is “four-quarters” or “four-fourths” cake. I thought this a very strange name for a cake, though names for other French pastries have befuddled me in the past. Like the “opéra” (not related to anything musically inclined), the “éclair” (has nothing to do with an electrostatic discharge), or the “mille feuille” (seriously, is ANYONE going to count them???) But I digress.     

The “gateau quatre-quarts”, explained my pastry instructor, is named for the fact that the recipe is made up of equal parts of four ingredients: flour, sugar, butter, and eggs. In fact, it’s the weight of the eggs that determines the weight of the other ingredients. So if you have 100 g of eggs, you need an equal amount of flour, sugar, and butter. Apparently, you can change the quantities to reduce or increase the recipe and, as long as you use equal proportions of every ingredient, your cake will come out perfect every time. (Must test this theory one day.) If you think about it, it’s probably the simplest cake in the world to make. So it wasn’t until the darn thing was pulled out of the oven that I realized the “quatre-quarts” was in fact… wait for it… a pound cake! 

So THAT’S how you make a pound cake! Honestly, I’d never made one until then. This led me to go in search of the cake’s origins, and what I found was pretty interesting, and confusing. While some sources indicate that the quatre-quarts originated in Brittany, a region in the north-west of France, others swear the pound cake is a British invention dating back to the early 1700s. Here's a book written "By a lady": 

A recipe for pound cake can be traced back to the book Art of Cookery published in 1747. The "lady" turned out to be Hannah Glasse, confirmed as the author by historian Madeline Hope Dodds in 1938 - 191 years later! Until then, botanist John Hill had taken credit for writing the book. We've come a long way, haven't we... And speaking of coming a long way, was I glad to have my electric mixer for this job. Yes, I cheated. And so will you. Glasse's recipe instructs us to hand beat the batter for one hour!  (see entry below) Considering the lack of any leavening agent, this was to ensure enough air was introduced into the batter. Thank you, KitchenAid!

 (Notice the long s that looks like an f in "...wooden fpoon...")

According to another source, Linda Stradley’s Web site “What's Cooking America”, the first cookbook written by an American and published in the US is the 1796 cookbook American Cookery: or, The Art of Dressing Viands, Fish, Poultry and Vegetables, and the Best Modes of Making Puff-pastes, Pies, Tarts, Puddings, Custards and Preserves, and all kinds of Cakes, from the Imperial Plumb to plain Cake by Amelia Simmons, an American orphan which included two recipes for pound cake. The book was printed by Hudson and Goodwin "For the author" which suggests that Simmons paid for the printing herself. 

While back in France, the 1893 edition of the Larousse dictionary refers to the quatre-quarts as a “gâteau domestique”. The suggestion is that the cake was made and consumed by the less educated. In the days when so many people could not read, the convention of using equal parts would have made recipes much easy to remember. I suppose that’s also the logic behind a relative of the pound cake – the 1234 cake – and naming cakes for their measurements: 1 cup butter, 2 cups sugar, 3 cups flour, and 4 eggs. Another relative of the pound cake is the cupcake. Two theories appear to exist behind the origin of the cupcake; the name refers to the amount of ingredients used (a cup of…); or that the cake was baked in a cup. It would seem that small pound cakes baked in individual-portion pans were quite popular in the 18^th century, including “Queen Cakes”. It wasn’t until the Industrial Revolution in the early 1900s that artificial leaveners, baking powder/soda, were used to achieve a lighter cake.

According to my culinary instructor, the “quatre-quart” was a staple during wartime, since it contained butter and sugar and hence provided soldiers with the much-needed energy to battle on. The men would divide their pieces and wrap them in individual portions to nibble on as they travelled. Of course, I thought. That makes sense. The fat in the butter, the energy of the sugar, the protein of the eggs. So I went online and looked for something to validate this claim. Now, which war was he talking about? WWI? WWII? The Vietnam War? The Seven Years War maybe? And as I scanned pages and pages of links, I began getting a little overwhelmed with recipes and under whelmed with facts. I did come across several American Civil War pound cake recipes but nothing to validate my instructor’s claim. In fact, it would appear that the pound cake literally disappeared during WWII because butter and sugar were being rationed.

This Canadian ad for Magic Baking Powder from 1944 featured a recipe for pound cake that replaced the rationed sugar with honey, claiming it sought to “...protect your precious ingredients...”

I love vintage ads. Oh, and here's another interesting tidbit I came across. Did you know Van Halen recorded a song called Poundcake in 1991? The Web has a number of interesting discussions as to the song’s meaning. Baking wasn't one of them. But once again, I digress.

I did come across some fascinating Web sites that linked pound cakes to US army rations. What the army once referred to as C-Rations, individually prepared wet rations, was replaced in 1958 with the MCI – Meal, Combat, Individual ration. The latter included pound cake, a favourite part of the MCI, according to one site.  It was available in the D-2 (Cake) unit, along with fruitcake and cinnamon-nut roll. D stood for “dessert”. 

In spite of the fact that the traditional pound cake has but four ingredients, a gazillion recipes and variations can be found on the Web. These are normally baked in loaf or bundt pans, but I did come across round layer varieties as well. Several types of frostings have also been developed for added taste. And as mentioned on several sites, and to which I can attest, the “quatre-quarts” tastes even better the next day.

While modern recipes have added baking powder and vanilla or other essences, I chose to recreate the original recipe: I used four eggs, which weighed in at 198 g. Hence, my recipe included 198 g of sugar, 198 g of flour, and 198 of butter.

I creamed the sugar and eggs together in a stainless steel bowl until light and fluffy, added the butter (softened in the microwave), and folded in the flour. I then poured the batter into a greased loaf pan and baked it in preheated oven at 180 C (350 F) for one hour. 

Because I chose a longer loaf pan, my cake didn't rise as much but in no way did it affect the appearance or taste. Here it is in all its buttery goodness!

I'm acutally surprised at how tasty it is, even though it has no salt or vanilla!

The waffle-textured pan used in this recipe is a Bake-Rite Tinware, 210.

If anyone knows what the number means, let me know. 

So pound for pound, a cake, by any other name, is still a cake. And after 300 years, this recipe has survived the test of time. It really does take the cake (ba-dum-bum!)

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to have my cholesterol levels checked. For you know what they say, an ounce of prevention is worth a... pound of cure. 

Bon appétit!

Got Bisquick? Let's party!

Now where were we... ah yes. Chocolate. I ended my last post suggesting that my next post would involve chocolate and my friend Betty even said "please", so I thought I'd dig around and find something from one of our most beloved fictional homemakers, Betty Crocker.   

I didn't know this, and suspect you didn't either. The name Betty Crocker was developed in 1921 by the Washburn Crosby Company (now General Mills) to personalize responses to consumer questions. The company chose the name Betty because it was "viewed as a cheery, all-American name." It was paired with the last name Crocker, in honour of William Crocker, a Washburn Crosby Company director. The name was actually created by Marjorie Husted who was a home economist. Which makes me think of my home ec classes at Massey-Vanier... Remember Betty?

But I digress. As I searched through the Interweb for one of Ms. Crocker's recipes featuring chocolate, I noticed on more than one occasion that certain recipes contained Bisquick. Bisquick in cookies? I keep a box handy to make quick biscuits and have topped my chicken pot pies with the mix, but it would never have occurred to me to use it in a dessert. How clever of General Mills to have incorporated the mix in Betty's repertoire!

So intrigued by this that I continued my research and discovered Betty Crocker’s Bisquick Party Book published in 1957 by General Mills and its "97 gay new ideas and recipes. . . for coffee time through late T.V. . . .from appetizers to desserts!" Which begs the question, why 97? Why not 100? Betty appears to be mum on the subject. In fact, I'd never have used Bisquick and party in the same sentence, but I'm open to anything in this blog.  

So when did Bisquick hit the grocer's aisles? Well, dear reader, it was in 1930 after General Mills sales executive Carl Smith enjoyed a freshly baked biscuit one night while travelling on a Southern-Pacific train heading to San-Francisco. Surprised with the biscuit at such a late hour, he found his way to the galley and questioned the black chef* who was happy to share his secret: he'd pre-mixed the batter (lard, flour, baking powder, and salt) and stored it in the train's ice box before departure. After a few adjustments, General Mills marketed the idea and Bisquick became the first baking mix to hit grocery shelves. Once again proving the point that necessity IS the mother of invention. 

*According to Business Without Borders: The Story of General Mills by James Gray). Every other source I came across referred to a train chef but never mentioned the man's colour. I wanted to give credit where credit's due. 

Before choosing a recipe, I checked my cupboards to see what I had on hand in an effort to save hubby a trip to the store. (You're welcome, dear). With the basics on hand, I let my fingers do the tapping and came across Fudge Squares which met my two requirements: 1) finding a recipe with chocolate and 2) find a recipe with more than five ingredients. This one had six.

Turns out there's no fudge here. But this was a one-bowl job. I melted the chocolate and butter in the same bowl, my large yellow Pyrex mixing bowl (you know the one), then added the sugar, eggs, Bisquick, and chopped nuts. I did cheat by using parchment paper instead of greasing the bowl, so saved myself the clean-up there. I did use my Mom's vintage aluminum Wear-Ever square cake pan which still looks great and which has served me well over the years. 

Since discovering parchment paper at culinary school, I use it all the time. I could have cut the paper but it's the width of my roll and what was I going to do with a two inch piece? (I'm open to suggestions). 

The cake was cut into 16 squares. We did the math and each square equals 168 calories.

This bite would have cost me 42 calories. That is if I'd stuck to just one bite... 

Now these squares are not brownies per se, but more cake-like in texture and much less sweeter. I'd say they'd be the perfect companion to vanilla ice-cream and Hershey's chocolate sauce. A quick mention, the plate featured in the photos is Royal Doulton bone china, the Evesham pattern (H4821) made between 1942-59.

So as the box says: Bisquick is for pancakes, biscuits & more! 

Hope you enjoyed this adventure as much as I enjoyed bringing it to you. 

Be safe and have a great week!

Groats, gruel, gruau... it's all oatmeal to me!

So here goes. My first vintage recipe, found in The Healthy Life Cook Book by Florence Daniel, and published in 1915.

The Second Edition of the book features a preface by Mrs. Daniel that goes like this: "This little cookery book was originally published for that 'straighter' sect of food-reformers who abstain from the use of salt, yeast, etc." Having no clue as to what "food reformers" were, I let my fingers do the tapping and researched the term only to discover that it applied to vegetarians. For some strange reason, I somehow never considered that vegetarians might have existed back 1915.  This led me to read up on a brief history of vegetarianism which I found fascinating.


Back to our recipe. Our esteemed author called for Robinson's "Patent" Groats. What is a groat and why would it need a patent, I asked myself. I assumed this was oatmeal, considering that oatmeal was part of the recipe's name, but to be sure, I once again let my fingers do the tapping and found that groats are “hulled, or hulled and crushed grain of various kinds, chiefly oats, but also wheat, barley, and maize." According to the article, one was supposed to dissolve them in water or milk and they were "considered excellent nourishment for mothers, babies and invalids." I suddenly recalled a scene in one of my favourite movies, Oliver, based on Charles Dickens' Oliver Twist, where the boys in a workhouse were fed gruel at every meal. "More food please!" Poor Oliver. I find it interesting that "groats" sound like the French "gruau" for oatmeal. But once again, I digress.

For those not familiar with the term "castor" or "caster" sugar, it's simply super-fine granulated sugar. The term is commonly used in British cook books.

The recipe itself is very simple and includes but a few ingredients, and not surprising, no salt. 

Fine Oatmeal Biscuits

• 2 ounces flour
• 3 1/2 ounces Robinson's "Patent" Groats
• 2 ounces castor sugar
• 2 ounces butter
• 2 eggs

Cream the butter and sugar, add the eggs, then the flour and groats, which should be mixed together. Roll out thin and cut out with a cutter. Bake in a moderate oven until a light colour.

As you can see, this recipe should have been as simple as pie. So, in an effort to be transparent, I have a confession to make. Despite the fact that I have been in culinary school for four months... Despite the fact that I received 100% on my last examination... And despite the fact that I really, really should have known better - I made this simple yet significant error: when measuring out the ingredients,  I confused ounces for grams. I know, I know. The shame of it. But I promised myself I'd be completely honest in this venture so hence my mea culpa. As you can very well imagine, my 2 grams of butter and 2 grams of sugar looked fairly pitiful in my mixing bowl. After adding 2 eggs, 2 grams of flour and 3.5 grams of oatmeal, I looked at the wet mess and wondered where on earth I'd gone wrong. Wait. I was using large eggs. Were they too big? How big were eggs in 1915? Did I need to adjust my dry ingredients to compensate for the large eggs? And just like that, my brain decided to kick in gear and I realized my mistake. Knowing full well that 1 ounce = 28 grams, I quickly did the math and adjusted the recipe accordingly.

As the recipe indicated, the dough needed to be rolled out, but mine was too liquid so I added a little flour and left it to rest in the refrigerator for about 10 minutes. I then rolled out the "biscuits" to about 2 mm with my new adjustable rolling pin (Christmas present from hubby) and baked them in a 350 degree oven for 9 minutes.

And voila!

The gold-plated dessert plates were handed down to me from my grandmother 

Loretta (Lussier) Duriez  (1903-1999). 

They're tasty, though a little dry, but nice with a cup of tea. 

Well, that was fun and very informative indeed. For my next entry, I promise to find something with more than  five ingredients. Chocolate. Yes, something with chocolate would be nice. 

A bientôt!