Monday, November 5, 2007

Vermont pear cake

One of the things that astounded me when I first learned it, was that less than 1/3 of all recipes in cookbooks are actually tested. No wonder so many people think they can't cook. Many recipes are badly written, don't give enough information, or are just plain wrong. And if anyone did the cookbook equivalent of "fact checking," they'd find that out.

The recipe that follows is the product of one of those recipes that didn't work. The original recipe is in a cookbook that I very much enjoy, and by people whom I very much respect. And I'm a pretty good baker. Yet, the recipe just didn't work. I tried it, exactly as they set it forth, three times. Each time I threw out the cake. Then I sat down, and thought about what was wrong with it. And I came up with something that worked.

The original recipe is called "Vermont Pear Bread." I don't know why "bread," except possibly because it was made in a bread pan. I changed a lot about it. First, I doubled the quantities of everything. I also tossed out the nuts that are in the original. It seems that more and more people are allergic to nuts. I happen to love them, but I'm also not going to eat the whole cake. It also suffered, in my view, from being underspiced. The only spice in the recipe was a 1/4 teaspoon of nutmeg. PULLEEEEZE. So I added cinnamon, to me another one of God's gifts to man, and candied ginger , which is a natural for pears. Leave them both out if you like and use a cup of walnuts, but toast them first. The recipe also originally called for buttermilk. I almost never have that in the house, or if I do, there's a lawn of green mold on top of it since I've had it for six months. So I use yogurt. A six ounce container of plain is fine (did anyone besides me notice when the size of a yogurt container went from 8 to six ounces?)

You would never order this cake in a restaurant, and so many bundt cakes in coffee houses have sat out so long and look so sad, you'd never order it either. But again, if you're having people over for coffee, or brunch, or, as was the case when I made this today, you're giving a gift to someone, it's always appreciated.


You'll need a bundt pan. If you don't have one, I think a 9x13 would work, but I honestly have never made this in that kind of pan. If you did, you'd have to lower the baking time.

I use my serious mixer to do this, which I'm sure cooks in Vermont would frown upon. Do it by hand if you are inclined. With the pears, my experience is that pears darken as they sit, especially if you chop them, so do it at the last minute. Again, I use a food processor, but if you like chopping, by all means do it. You can also use pear butter, or pear puree. Since texture is so important to me in food, I just chop the pears. It is again your choice. Any type of pear would work, but using comice pears in this recipe to me would be a shame. If you're going to cook them, half them, stuff them with a nut and sugar filling and bake them. Save that idea for an important date.

it's a good cake. I don't think it's identifiable as "pear," but it's real tasty.


Two sticks of unsalted butter, at room temperature
4 large eggs
4 cups of all purpose, unbleached flour
a teaspoon EACH of salt and
of baking soda
two teaspoons of baking powder
(Mix all of these dry ingredients together. You can put the cinnamon here too)
1 six ounce container of yogurt (plain, vanilla, maple, or lemon, would all work real well)
a big teaspoon of cinnamon
half a cup of candied ginger.
Six peeled, chopped ripe pears (pears are ripe when you see that lovely sheen on them when you peel them. Or when you can get them to yield to a gentle squeeze at the narrow part)

Preheat the oven to 350 and then spray the bundt pan with a cooking spray (you can use the butter from the butter wrappers, if you like)

However you want to do it, blend the butter until it's well mixed and soft, and then blend in the sugar. You'll get a granular mess, and then it will all come together. That's what you want. When that happens, add the eggs, one at a time. Then, add half of the dry ingredients and half of the yogurt, stir to combine, and do it again to combine everything. Add the cinnamon if you haven't already, and the ginger. Then, at the last minute, stir in the pears.

Dump the batter into your pan, smooth it out over the top, and bake for at least an hour. Cakes with fruit in them can be tricky. I've had this cake finish up in 45 minutes, and I've had it say raw for an hour and a half. The old "stick a straw in the middle of the cake trick" works really well, and since you're going to flip this, you won't disturb the finish.

when it's done, let it cool for about ten minutes before you invert it. (interestingly, the original recipe did not tell you anything about this step. If you invert a bundt cake too soon, you'll get crumbs. And if you wait too long, you'll never get the cake out. I guess in "those days" people knew what they were doing. There's a saying from Vermont, or Maine or somewhere in New England "just because the kittens were born in the oven don' t make them muffins, and just cause you have a recipe don't mean you belong in the kitchen."

Alrightee then. I find ten minutes works.

You can put powdered sugar on this when it's done, or you can combine a few tablespoons of real maple syrup (Grade B please), with powdered sugar and make a glaze, if you like, but for me, the interplay of ginger and pear should be left alone and enjoyed with coffee, or even better, some lemon verbena tea , or better yet, a small glass of port.

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