Omnomicon

I don’t have much to say about the Daffodil Cake other than it appeared in my What’s Cooking in Massachusetts! 4H cookbook, and a quick Google is telling me that it is an Eastery-Springy-type of cake. So I guess I just missed Easter, which is fine because something in me still resists holiday seasonality. My guess is I still haven’t outgrown that jaded teenager phase, where family stuff is stupid and cheesey.

In line with the Spring theme we accidentally have going here, this cake is EXTREMELY light—for cake. It’s similar to an angel food cake, except that you are not left with an inordinate amount of unemployed egg yolks. In this cake, the egg yolks are used to make a second batter, this one all yellow, naturally, and the result is a little two-toned cake that is not as cool a surprise as say, a rainbow cake, but still pretty neat! It can be served in a manner similar to angel food cake, and in that vein would be quite delicious with some strawberries and whipped cream!

I made this bad lawrence twice in an attempt to fix major problems from the first go at it. I cite as evidence:

You can see how including that particular photo might counter any culinary abilities y’all might have thought I had. The good news is that I only had to try this one more time to get much more satisfying results, and I identified my major issues here. The first:

Let me just say up front that is not meant to be a dick joke.

The terminology in the original recipe says “beat until stiff.” Now I’m going to venture that, in this case anyway, stiff does not imply stiff peaks, because the first time around it took me damn near 45 minutes with a handmixer to attain stiff peaks, which even then were passable at best. And then my cake exploded out of my pan and burnt to the bottom of my oven in a smelly mess (see above).

The other big hint that something was wrong was when I tried to remove the cake from the pan and then had to kind of grope it out with my fingers. It was embarrassing.

Perhaps in 1962, they had nonstick tube pans they don’t make like they used to, but my nonstick bundt could not handle that baby, and as you can see, this time around I was plenty generous with my cooking spray. That cake might be soggy coming out of the pan, but it’s coming out of that pan on its own, goddammit!

Here’s a rare Omnomicon action shot.

And the bottom was the most delicious part of this. If you aren’t big on presentation, I recommend eating the entire crust off the bottom, because the cake is moist and fluffy and once you flip it onto the bottom and leave it that way for a few hours, the delicious crunchy almost-meringuey texture becomes the texture of just . . . regular cake. Not as magical at all.

Interestingly, though you pour the yolk mixture on TOP of the whites mixture (which would logically put it on the bottom of the cake once flipped out of the pan), the yolk mix is denser and therefore sinks to the bottom of the pan. In this particular piece, it looks like a funky ying yang.

But when I overbeat the white mixture, the yolk stayed right where one would expect it to—to the top of the pan and bottom of the cake. I have to assume this is due to the increased firmness in a longer beat time for the white.

So then I took some literal shots with a daffodil, which really don’t complement the visage of the cake very well, but I bought those flowers and by golly they’re gonna be in my pictures!

The best way to describe the plush airiness of these, however, is with this shot, wherein I tore a piece of cake in half. Verily, I rent it asunder for the visceral pleasure of it.

And then one more picture of daffodils. Just so I can get my money’s worth.

Daffodil Cake
adapted from a 60s era 4H fundraiser book: What’s Cooking? In Massachusetts

6 egg whites
1/2 tsp cream of tartar
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 c sugar
1/2 c cake flour
1 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to 325^o.Beat egg whites until foamy. Add cream of tartar and salt, and beat until the mixture can hold a little bit of shape, but not until stiff peaks form (it should take you about 5 minutes to reach this consistency with a mixer on medium). Briefly beat in vanilla. Sift sugar and flour four times (seems like overkill to me, but just to be safe I went ahead and did it), then fold into egg white mixture. Pour into well-greased tube or bundt pan and set aside.

Now it’s time for the egg yolks!

6 egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp salt
3/4 c sugar
3/4 c cake flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 c boiling water

Put about 2 c water on the stove to boil. You’ll want to measure your boiling water after it’s come to a boil instead of before (what with evaporation and what have you). Beat egg yolks 3 minutes, add salt and vanilla, then gradually beat in sugar. Sift the flour and baking powder four times (again, it couldn’t hurt) and add alternately with hot water. Pour atop the white mixture in the pan.

Bake 50 minutes, let cool completely (at least an hour) before removing from pan.

Serve by itself for a cottony delicious treat, or with fruit and the whipped topping of your choice for a more full-blown sort of dessert.

Fun variation:
So some versions of the daffodil cake include a lemon icing, and this one in particular calls for either vanilla or lemon extract in the yellow batter. My awesome idea is to dye the white part with lemon extract and the yellow mixture with vanilla. It will taste the same, and 90% of people won’t notice which is which, but it’ll be really funny for that one person with the particularly sharp tastebuds.

nutrition summary (for 1 of 8 servings): 260 calories, 4g fat, 0g fiber; 5 weight watchers points

I have enjoyed some luck with used book stores and cook books that were sold to housewives for a fundraiser 40 years back. People share treasured family recipes that often turn out great (or are at least interesting enough to try to modify). However, for the record, I’d like to advise all of you against spending $5 on this ditto-machined little avocado number.

I think that’s supposed to be Julia Child contact-papered to the cover there. Also, there were foil stars, one can only assume for extra pizazz, and a recipe for something awful titled Deviled Eggs Supreme that calls for cream of celery soup.

Here’s where the trouble started.

I thought for sure I could coax this cake into being an acceptable vehicle for the several pounds of spent grain in my freezer.

For the uninitiated, that there is a byproduct of brewing beer, and since it seems like everyone we know is a homebrewer, it’s plentiful and free around here. Spent grain is an all-natural high-fiber cereal, neutral in flavour, but similar in texture to cooked rice or oatmeal. You see why it might just work. Once upon a time I posted a recipe for spent grain cookies, but harvette did a much better job of the recipe by excluding peanut butter.

I took a picture of oatmeal too.

I have no good reason for sharing that other than it is a particularly nice picture of oatmeal, wouldn’t you agree? So anyway, I made two cakes tonight, one oatmeal, one with spent grain.

. . . and while they didn’t look too bad . . .

They were best served like this . . .

. . . directly into the trash can. This cake was way too sweet, never ever (ever) finished cooking, was super dense, and lacked any kind of complexity to its flavour, even after I bastardized the recipe (swapping shortening for butter, more flour, maple syrup, etc etc). Yuck. After just a couple bites I suddenly wanted to eat nothing but vegetables for the rest of my life.

So apologies to the faithful who check up on Thursday mornings, I have no recipe to share today because this one is too awful and people might actually expect to be able to eat it afterward, which um, isn’t really a realistic option. I am, however, just putting the finishing touches on an article with a really bad working title like Omnomicon: Special Edition: how to buy spices. I would like to get that post up tomorrow with not only that how-to, but also a recipe to test out all your new spices. Why? Because I would hate to disappoint anyone. I . . . I love you man!

Now I’m going to tell you: my mother’s whoopie pie recipe is SO GOOD that I will often tell people that I don’t like whoopie pies at all, because I have yet to find another recipe that I actually like. Other people’s whoopie pies are too cakey, or too cookie-like, or (as is usually the case) the filling is pure frosting, which is WAY too sweet and totally the wrong texture altogether. My mom’s whoopie pies were famous in our circles, and she generously provided them whenever demanded, particularly when visiting my Uncle and Aunt in Maine for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I ate more whoopie pies in my childhood than cupcakes, brownies or cookies combined; they were a true and strong family tradition.

Antonia, a faithful reader, pointed to a NYTimes article about the Whoopie Pie and well hey, I’m not usually up to snuff on anything topical, and since I have an authentic family recipe on hand, I am suddenly compelled to showcase my (rather specialized) expertise!

A proper whoopie pie is not merely some cloying abomination of sugar and fat. No no, it is delicate in its way, the sweetness ever-present and yet subdued. Please do not compare them to a Devil Dog or Moon Pie. Please do not make them with cake mix and tub frosting. A whoopie pie is a very specific delicacy and there are rules.

A proper whoopie pie “cookie” is a medium-brown shade, fairly dry (not all oily and moist like a Little Debbie’s snack), but still somewhat densely cakelike, maybe a vein or two where the scoop let go of the batter. They crack ever so slightly, but sometimes they don’t and maybe that has something to do with the barometric pressure. I dunno, they still taste right and seem to have the right texture, so aesthetics aside, it’s fine either way.

The proper whoopie pie filling is made with Crisco (which, apparently, no longer contains trans fats), butter, whole milk, sugar, a tiny smidge of flour and a regular portion of vanilla. Did you notice that it has no Fluff in it? That’s because Fluff is for fluffernutters, not whoopie pies. You will also notice that the filling is not a frosting, but a creme. While eating, one will lose all the filling out the sides and must open the pie, collect up the creme that has splooshed out back onto the bottom piece, then recreate the sandwich, only to do it all again in the next bite or two. This is the proper way to eat a whoopie pie.

This process presented many lovely photo ops. Let’s take a look!

This one reminds me of a dusty construction site.

The cookies can be removed from the cookie sheet almost immediately, but you really need to use a metal spatula and carefully scrap them off. I like the texture underneath, it gets a little crispy as it cools and it is so so satisfying to snack on the odd unmatched whoopie pie cookie before they’re frosted.

The creme takes a convenient 10 minutes to make, which you can most likely complete between the time the first batch of cookies goes into and comes out of the oven. I’ve found it nearly impossible to make the creme without an electric mixer (stand or hand, your choice), and sometimes it takes longer than others. For the first several minutes of mixing, your creme will look like this: kinda gross.

And then you’ll hear a cherub giggle, and an angel wing will brush against your shoulder as suddenly the creme whips up into this glorious appearance. The texture is extremely creamy, but still looks like this.

After a little assembly . . .

Since I started making my own food, I’ve lived on these for days at a time. Not particularly healthy nor affluent days, but certainly enjoyable ones.

 

 

Mom’s Famous Whoopie Pies
makes about 14 after batter & cookie sampling
brought to you by very fortunate family ties.

Blend	Add
1/4 c Crisco	2 c flour
1 c milk	1/4 c + 1 tbsp cocoa
1 c sugar	1.5 tsp baking soda
1 egg	1 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla	Â

Drop by the small tablespoonful onto an ungreased cookie sheet—a tablespoon-sized bakery scoop works best. Bake exactly 8 minutes at 375^o, see if a toothpick comes out clean, and if it doesn’t, bake another 2 minutes (10 total). Upon extraction from the oven, remove from pan immediately to wire rack to cool.

 

And now the creme filling (reminder: it’s not frosting, guys)

1/2 c margarine or butter (room temp is best)
1/2 c Crisco (my mother is insistent that this MUST be Crisco and CANNOT be generic shortening, nor substituted in any way . . . but if you do get it to work with a substitution, please let me know!)
1 c sugar
1 tbsp  flour
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 c warm whole milk (20 seconds in the microwave should do it)

Beat with a mixer (stand or hand, your choice) for-freakin-ever. It will start out just like, well, lumps of Crisco floating in milk, then bits will get smaller and smaller, then it’ll slosh around for a little bit, and, much like the butter making process, you’ll be wondering if this will ever become anything or if you maybe messed it up somehow. Suddenly, about five minutes later, your mix will look weird for a second, and within moments your slushy mess will turn into a glorious white creme, smooth and perfect in a way rarely seen outside the confines of uber-processed food with chemicals you can’t pronounce that are not even available to the consumer in their pure form.

 

Assembly

As soon as the whoopie cookies are cool, match each whoopie with its closest brother in size—even if yours didn’t all come out the same size, evenly matched whoopies will look much much nicer. Spread some filling on the flat side of one, then place the second on top. Repeat. This does not need to be done immediately before serving, as the filling tends to maintain its consistency surprisingly well, and some (like my mom) would argue that a day-old whoopie pie is even better than fresh. I like them all.

No need to refrigerate, sealed plastic or plastic wrap will keep them fresh.

. . . and that’s it. Congratulations! You just made the best whoopie pies known to man.

 

 

Not like it’s diet food or anything, but these are not quite as totally terrible as I thought they’d be!
Nutrition Summary (for 1 whoopie pie of yield 15): 330 calories, 17g fat, 1g fiber; 8 Weight Watchers Points

Homemade butter is easy, relatively quick to make and amazingly delicious. If it cost less than buying butter at the grocery store, it would be too good to be true, which is why this is not the case. All things considered, though, I still think it’s well worth it.

This stuff is precious, so I think the best use of it is not in baking, but rather, on top of freshly baked, still warm, bread, muffins or crumpets.

Are you ready for this? It’s intense.

We begin with cream. I used superfresh local stuff, but the carton at the grocery store will do just as well. The important thing is to use cream at room temperature. The difference between doing this with cold cream and room temperature cream is the difference between an hour of churning and ten minutes.

Next, get a container with a tight-fitting screw-on lid that will not spurt cream all over your kitchen when you shake it vigorously. It also needs to hold at least twice the volume of the amount of cream you’re using.

Begin shaking the container up and down in a rhythmic pattern. After 3 minutes, it’ll start feeling less like you’re shaking a jar of liquid and more like you’re shaking a jar of whipped cream, because essentially, you are.

The next 3 minutes will feel like you’re shaking a brick. This is the hardest part. You will wonder “is this doing anything?” Just keep at it.

All of a sudden, within just a few shakes, the jar will begin going “shuk shuk shuk” and you’ll be able to feel the butter separating from the buttermilk. Keep doing that for about four minutes until you have lots of buttermilk in there.

Next (not pictured), cover the top of the jar with cheesecloth and pour off the buttermilk, which can be used for a great many delicious items, but most notably, all the best pancake recipes call for buttermilk. It’s a truth.

After that, let the faucet water get as cold as it gets, then fill the jar to just under the top of the butter. The water needs to be very cold, or else the butter will melt as you replace the cheesecloth and pour the water out into the sink. Repeat 7-10 times until the water drains completely clear. This cleans the butter and keeps it from going rancid as quickly as it will otherwise.

Also important is to drain the butter. I have pictures of this part.

All that water puddling under the butter needs to come out. The best way is with a marble cutting board, but since I don’t have one of those, I used a wooden one. Simply squeeze the water out of the butter with a wooden spoon or spatula. The latter will double as a scraper to regroup between squeezings. To do away with the drained water, tilt the cutting board and/or use paper towels to absorb it.

If you feel like the butter is getting melty at all, just stick it in the fridge for a few minutes before going back at it.

If you want to salt your butter, add about 1/4 tsp salt and stir into your finished butter. I think the reason to do this last is that it doesn’t interfere with the draining process by absorbing water and embedding it in the butter.

And that’s it! Beautiful, beautiful butter.

Notes
I used one pint of cream to make just under 6.5 oz of butter and almost a cup of buttermilk. These amounts will vary from batch to batch, but is a decent estimate.

So I know diet diner food isn’t a great sell for everybody, and frankly, I think baking takes far prettier pictures. That said, I have, for Valentine’s Day, a visual gift for all y’all. Strawberry shortcake is a beautiful thing all on its own, but for dessert for two, it can be improved upon.

Generally, in place of shortcake, I make some sweet biscuits, slice ’em open and throw some sugary strawberries and whipped topping on there. However, I’ve been reading aaalllll about different flours and decided to try out the theory that the low protein levels in cake flour makes for a more perfect crumb.

OH MY GOD, I will never go back to all-purpose flour. All-purpose flour varies from region to region and season to season, so while in theory it can make for a seasonal flair, there’s something to be said for fabulous consistency. This recipe makes a tender, delicious, and all-around omnommy shortcake biscuit.

Enter strawberries.

They’re out of season, but available in most stores. Do yourself a favour and throw out any that aren’t red inside. White strawberries are blech, ugh, and above all else, yucky.

Here’s how to measure your flour perfectly. First, sift onto a flexible cutting board or, as seen here, parchment paper.

Funnel the flour into the measuring cup. Oh hey, bitch has tattoos, check that out.

Overfill the cup with flour, and DO NOT shake to level it off–this repacks the flour and undoes all your fancy sifting.

Instead, kinda slice off the top with a knife into the sink, or back into your flour bag/box if you can manage it. It’s messy, but it’s the best way.

Use a pastry blender or two knives to blend the butter into the flour until it kinda disappears in there. Then add some heavy cream, light cream, or fat free half and half. This is a batter rather than a dough, so no folding out is required, and it will be goopy.

And hey, back to the strawberries! Except this time they’re seasonally-themed.

Select the pointiest berries to create the hearts. Then remove the stem and carve out the little stem-pit there. Also, this berry was a poor example, as there was a lot of white under that stem.

Cut the strawberries in half length-wise, then carve a little V out of the top. To further carve out the heart-shape, slice from the already-sliced side and round out the edges. This takes a little bit of practice, and I really didn’t know how to show it in photos (sorry!). Really, though, the strawberries are going to be pushed into the batter anyway, so the edges really don’t have to be all that perfect. They just take better pre-baked photos that way. And that’s how to make strawberry hearts.

Scoop two heaving tablespoons of batter into each spot of your muffin pan, then press one of the strawberry hearts into each.

Then bake to perfection. And hey, don’t serve yours this way . . . you need to serve it with sugared strawberries. Really. Trust me. This just took the best picture.

Strawberry Heart Shortcake Cupcakes
makes 8 cakes

1 lb fresh strawberries.
2c sifted cake flour (if using all-purpose flour, which is not recommended, reduce to 1.75c sifted)
1 tbsp baking powder
3 tbsp sugar (1 tbsp for the shortcake, 2 for the strawberry topping)
1/2 tsp salt
6 tbsp cold butter
3/4 c light or heavy cream, half and half, or fat-free half and half
Whipped cream, whipped topping, or cream-in-a-can

Rinse the berries, reserving 8-10 small to medium ones with pointy tips. These will be your hearts. Heat the oven to 450.

Slice remaining strawberries into quarters and toss with 2 tbsp sugar to coat. Set aside.

Sift flour on a flexible cutting board or parchment paper. Gently pour into measuring cup, then level off with a knife. I’ll repeat it again just in case you missed it the first time: do not level off by shaking or tapping the measuring cup. You’ll get dry nasty muffins, and nobody wants that.

Sift the sifted flour AGAIN, this time with baking powder, salt and sugar. Cut up the butter, which should have been in your fridge all this time, a little bit to get the blending going. Dump into the flour, then use a pastry blender or two knives to blend together. You’re done when there are no remaining chunks of butter in there. Add in the cream or half and half all at once, then mix until all ingredients are moistened.

Let that sit a bit while you create your strawberry hearts. Pull off stems, carve out the pit with a paring knife, then slice in half. Shape each half into a heart by carving a V at the notch (where the stem used to be). Since the berries will be pushed into the dough, the edges don’t need to make a perfect heart, but the V at the top is pivotal.

Bake for 12 minutes. Remove from oven, let cool a minute or two in the pan, then transfer to wire rack to cool. Serve to your dearest love with the sugared strawberries and whipped cream.

Love,
Aleta

Aaannnndddd, she’s back!

So I did mention something about health and/or diet food in my last post, and while this recipe is the latter, it is most certainly not to be confused with the former. I posted about my rainbow cake here, and it got a lot of traffic on over to my livejournal, and everyone wanted the “recipe.” The cool thing is that if you’re making something so distractingly colourful, people will think it’s delicious no matter what.

This presents me with the option to use an old Weight Watchers trick—the one-point cupcake. Except I’m making a cake and I created my own frosting. Kinda. I’ve seen it done before, but I swear I made it up first!

This cake is suitable for many occasions:

• A child’s birthday
• Your mom’s birthday
• Coming out to your conservative parents
  • If you’re a lesbian, they’ll be thrilled that you won’t be forgoing your feminine kitchen duties.
  • If you’re the kind of gay dude who makes cakes for your parents, they were probably on to you anyway.
• Coming out to your conservative parents on your mother’s birthday
• Your friend’s jam band CD release party

. . . so I’m sure you’ll find a use for this recipe soon.

And of course, you can use any white cake recipe you’d like. This is just how I make it because I have delusions of wearing size 2 someday.

Oh yes, and do me a favour: DOUBLE THE RECIPE AS PHOTOGRAPHED HERE!! The recipe at the bottom is accurate, but this made for a really REALLY small cake, and there was not nearly enough frosting, especially considering its lightness.

Okay, on with the ingredients.

That’s all. Notice the lack of fat in here? Mmmmmm . . . chemicals. Though I don’t need to defend my method thanks to the double-dub (WW) aspect, even when I make a “real” cake I usually use box mix because let’s face it: Betty’s been doing it way longer than I have, and has pretty much perfected the art.

Pour a can of soda (12 oz) 2-12 oz cans of soda into the cake mix two boxes of cake mix. No eggs, no oil, no water, no sweat.

The action shots weren’t too thrilling. Now we measure it.

I’m going to round to 30 oz 60 oz because I have six colours and isn’t that just too convenient? It worked out to 3/4 c 1.5 c per colour, measurementwise. So I divvied that up and used my gel colours.

(the gel colours, while not as good as pigment dye, are much bolder than the very liquidy food colouring you probably grew up with)

The first colour you drop into the pan, use about 2/3 of the mix for that colour. Otherwise, the top (last) colour will really dominate. I used a heaping 1/4 c 1 cup of each colour.

Drop the colours, one by one, into the middle of the pan, in neat concentric-ish gobs. Remember the cake is going to be sliced in the side there, so mixing it around on top isn’t going to make your slices any more psychedelic (trust me, I did the three-dimensional thinking for you already).

When you’re three colours in, start doing the reverse with the other pan. Since I’m going in rainbow order: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, I got from red to yellow in the first pan, then purple, blue, green in the second. This is so that your two pans are equal if your measurements aren’t exact (and they’re not likely to be).

Now finish up.

Follow the box’s baking instructions and do your dishes.

Such lovely dishes!

Now for the frosting: 1 box 2 boxes of fat free sugar free pudding mix, and 8 oz 16 oz (two of the 8 oz tubs pictured) of fat-free whipped topping. Or sugar-free. Or light. Or regular. They’re all pretty much the same. But that’s it.

Holy shit, the cake’s done! Toothpick clean and everything! Get that shit out of the oven!!!

The purple top kind of made a little turkey silhouette.

The frosting will be a little tough to spread, so treat it like a buttercream (I guess, I’ve never frosted a cake with buttercream). Putting gobs all over, then smoothing in worked well for me.

And look at that thing! It’s so pretty-lookin.

Here’s what this particular cake looked like. See how it’s tiny and too rounded and it kind of isn’t all that great? That’s because I didn’t double the recipe. It’s a mistake I’ll only make once.

Here’s what that really should look like: same process, twice the batter.

Mmmmm.

Sunny Day Rainbow Cake

2 boxes white cake mix
24 oz of clear diet soda (2 cans, ginger ale and sprite work well)
gel food colouring
16 oz whipped topping
2 oz instant fat-free sugar-free pudding mix (2 smallish boxes)

The Dieting
Mix the cake mix with the soda according to regular instructions on box. It will be lumpy afterward. Again, you can use any white cake recipe you want, this is just how I do it.

The Rainbowing
Measure the total volume (by my estimate, 64 oz), then divide by 6 and measure into separate bowls. There are 8 oz in a cup, so 64/6 = 10 to 11 oz, or 1 cup + 2 tbsp.

Stir colour into each bowl with its own spoon. For the first colour into the pan, measure out 2/3 to 3/4 of your mix (in this case about 1 c) as close to the middle as you can. Drop in your first three colours, then work on the other pan with the last three colours. So if you’re doing rainbow order, the first pan should have red, then orange, then yellow, and now the purple, blue and green go into the second pan. As a recap, this is so both layers are roughly the same size.

Bake the cake for however long the box tells you to bake it. Check it when the box says to, but usually it’ll need an extra 5 or 10 minutes or maybe more because of the density of the soda method. Just keep baking, checking back every 5 minutes or so until a toothpick to the center comes out clean. Let cool completely before moving to a wire rack.

The Frostinging
Meanwhile, make your frosting. Just mix the pudding mix in with the whipped topping for a few minutes. Dye if you’re into that.

Frost your fat-free cake with your fat-free whipped frosting. Eat.

Edit 1 (one week later)

---

No children were harmed in the making nor consumption of this cake.

People seemed to miss the point that I am a 25-year-old woman on a diet with no kids. Since kids don’t really need fat-free anything, there’s no need to use the soda recipe if you don’t like the idea, and if you don’t like dye, don’t make this for dinner for them every night for a month. Okay, folks, thanks for the allowance to disclaim.

Edit 2 (two weeks later)

---

A note to Weight Watchers (the people on the diet, not the company):
WW has long advertised 1/12 of a cake mix with diet soda to be a “one point cupcake.” I have no idea why they insist this is the case when according to the “as packaged” nutrition information, this much cupcake has 170 calories, 3g fat and no fiber . . . by my calculation, that’s 4 points. That said, 1/12 of this recipe, (2 box mixes + 16 oz whipped topping + 2 oz or so pudding mix) works out to 10 points a slice. Not bad considering that a comparable cake would be 14 points.

Edit 3 (two months later)

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FAQ
Here are questions I get over and over again about this cake. I just don’t want to answer any more emails about it. These questions apply to any cake, so please don’t blame your epic fail on me.

Omg my cake burnt!
Next time don’t bake it for as long.

My cake stuck to the pan!
Grease your pan better next time.

My cake burnt/stuck to the pan/was underdone/crumbled. Is this because of the food colouring I used?
No, the food colouring has nothing to do with the failure of your cake. You baked it too long/didn’t grease enough/didn’t bake long enough/moved it before it was cool.

I’m making this for my kids, can I use non-diet soda for this cake?
I don’t know why you would, you certainly wouldn’t be saving much in the way of calories, and I don’t really think your kids need more sugar. Just make a regular cake and then put food colouring in it, it will look the same, promise.

If I don’t make it with soda, will the colours run?
No. In fact, like I keep saying, please just use whatever the hell cake recipe you like. Please. The rainbow part has nothing to do with Weight Watchers.

The frosting, it’s so thick!
Yes, buy a tub of Duncan Hines frosting as a backup plan.

The cake, it fell apart!
Let it cool before you move it, and more importantly, don’t jostle the thing about.

I don’t like the cake this made, blech!
You probably aren’t on a diet, so I don’t know why you bothered to make diet cake.

I don’t get it, you make two cakes and then you put them on top of each other?!
Yes, it’s called a layer cake, and pretty much any cake you buy at a grocery store is constructed in the same manner.

But I don’t *like* food colouring.
Well, you’re wasting your time reading this, aren’t you?

I totally saw this on Something Awful’s Goons with Spoons Rainbow Cake thread, way to steal the idea, asshole.
Me too, fellow goon, me too. And in fact, I posted my original rainbow cake there. If you have no idea what I’m talking about and would like to see about a hojillion rainbow cakes, and a rainbow cheesecake, please check out the thread that put this on my radar.

9/26/2014
closing comments because way more spam bots are hanging around than humans, and after at least 2000 actual people comments, there probably isn’t much left to say. however, my email address remains active, so if you wanna be social, send it that way.

thanks, internet, this was fun.

As a wee lass, my mother would, from time to time, break out the box of lemon poppy seed muffin mix and proceed to make muffins on a Saturday morning. I never really understood *why* this was a big deal, other than it had these weird black things in them. At the same time, I ate these with some relish and with two visitors arriving Saturday afternoon (including Dano’s banjo teacher), I got the bug to make some muffins. These popped into my head, though I wouldn’t be doing it with a mix.

I got the recipe from eat me, delicious, and it’s her take on Dorie Greenspan’s recipe. I agree with her preference for sour cream (density) and personally, I like butter in muffins instead of oil–the latter seem to end up soggy.

Armed with a lemon, some poppy seeds and fat free sour cream from Stop & Shop, I set out to create heavenly lemony delight. This is a really beautiful recipe, start to finish.

Fun step #1: blending the zest with the sugar with little pinches.

Add some flour and leaven (this isn’t the pretty part yet, we’re getting there).

Wet stuff (shout out to fat free sour cream: Lookin good lady!).

Oh man, by now I’m impatient for the licking of the bowl ritual.

Enter poppy.

I bet you’re totally into this by now. I told you, heavenly! Like, when I think of heaven, this is what the clouds we’re all walking on look like.

Now I’ve always wondered what’s truly better: buttered muffin pan or muffin cups? I like the muffin cups at this stage . . .

. . . but the boys and I agreed that for eating, for eating specifically these muffins? They need to be au natural.

eat me, delicious’s adaptation of Dori Greenspans’s Lemon Poppy Seed Muffins