There will be no buttercream in this book. I find it persnickety and overly sweet. Layer cake is an act of balancing flavor—if the base is sugary, as most cakes are, the fillings should introduce tang. Fruit is great for this purpose, but in winter, when fresh berries seem like a distant memory, or I’m sick of citrus, I turn to dairy for an acidic punch: cream cheese, labneh, or sour cream. Rather than relying on my unsteady hand to level the cakes, I bake three layers individually. I use Natasha Pickowicz’s stress-free method for building cakes, constructing the layers in a deep, sturdy cake pan or pot so the layers remain stable. Together, the tender chocolate cake, coconut custard, and dark chocolate cream cheese frosting taste like heaven. The addition of coconut flakes on the exterior adds a pleasing crunch and hides any crumb coat missteps. This base recipe also works beautifully for a single layer cake; just divide the recipe in half and bake it in a 9-inch (23 cm) round cake pan.
A buckle was one of my signature cakes when I worked as pastry chef for the Gjelina Group. Every bite is tangy, tart, and deliciously rich. I love this cake with mixed berries, but using one single variety can also be nice. If you’re serving it after dinner, add some fresh berries and a little whipped cream on the side.
Blue cornmeal gives this cornbread its haunting corn flavor and lavender hue, but yellow or white cornmeal will work equally well. You can find blue corn meal in co-ops and online. Store it in the refrigerator or freeze.
During my childhood, many people in the country were poor, and their daily staple would have been wholemeal bread. White flour was more expensive than brown so white soda bread was considered to be more luxurious – a treat for special occasions.
Since beef was expensive in Japan when I was growing up, it was a real treat when my grandmother, Hatsuko Ishikawa, invited us over for a meatloaf with amakara (salty and sweet) sauce, made with soy sauce, honey, and vinegar. She made hers in a round cast-iron skillet and always served it with potatoes, which were tossed in the pan (with the lid closed) to make them fluffy. This recipe is enhanced with a miso-infused shiitake mushroom sauce, my own wafu version of meatloaf.
I’ve made versions of these crispy, delicate little fried cabbage pancakes at restaurants and in my very own home, where they are a breakfast staple. I’ve often watched my mom bulk them up with canned salmon and loads of the week’s forgotten vegetables. We’d eat them over bowls of hot grits or rice. To me, they are reminiscent of okonomiyaki (loosely translated as “grilled as you like it”), a popular savory pancake from southern Japan. I like to drizzle Spicy Sorghum-Miso Mustard (page 110) over them.
I’ve never been a bread pudding person, but I think it’s because the versions I’d tried in the past were almost always very, very heavy. But the concept of custardy baked bread appeals to me on so many levels that I knew it was just a matter of coming up with a lighter and brighter version. The lightness here comes from beaten egg whites that are folded into the bread and custard mixture, giving it a souffléed texture, while the brightness is from lemons—lemon curd, more specifically, which is used also as a sauce for the finished bread pudding. It’s so different from the typical dense, cloying bread puddings I’ve had that it almost feels like a different dessert. Mission accomplished.
Something magical happened the day I decided to dump a container of fresh ricotta into my standard biscuit recipe. I thought I would get lumps and layers of cheese in the biscuits, but I got something better than that. The ricotta melts into the biscuit in most places and creates a fluffy crumb that I had been trying to achieve for years but never knew the secret to. These are dangerously addictive. Proceed with caution.
I think of salads in two distinct camps: 1) the classic tossed salad, where everything is added to a deep bowl and moved around to evenly distribute, and 2) flat salads built in layers on a shallow platter. The latter is best when you have delicate greens (like butter lettuce) that won’t take well to tossing. Building in layers also means that the construction of the servings will be roughly the same if you are the first person to be served or the last—no more lettuce-only bites for the last in line.
These little cornmeal pancakes are a Southern classic with a California twist. The lore is that they once were made on the blade of a garden hoe over an open fire. They’re heavier than crepes but still fluffy. Hoecakes are versatile with both salty and sweet toppings; try them as appetizers with salty smoked salmon or as full-size pancakes with syrup.