Magic Cookie Bars

Do you have a go-to recipe? A recipe that you love, that's easy to whip up and keep the ingredients on hand? Something that you can run to the cupboard for when someone comes over unexpectedly, or maybe you have a craving or you need to take a treat to that party? 

Magic Cookie Bars: our family's go-to recipe. My mom would make these on Sunday nights after church. We'd all be roaming the kitchen, opening the fridge multiple times and staring blankly at the contents. Then mom would mention these bars and we'd all perk up and go sit at the island until they came out of the oven. 

I think a similar recipe, with added butterscotch and white chocolate chips, is known as "Seven Layer Bars." However, in my family we call these magic cookie bars, probably because they magically disappear as soon as they are made! 

Broiler Cake

I've been reading a fascinating book recently called "Ratios: The Simple Codes Behind the Craft of Everyday Cooking". It's all about the science behind cooking; that what makes a popover different from a muffin or different from a crepe is just the ratio of flour to fat to sugar to eggs, etc. One of the things I've learned is that a basic sponge cake is not all that different from a pound cake. The ratios are the same (both are equal parts flour, fat, sugar and egg) but the difference lies in the order in which the ingredients are mixed. A pound cake starts by creaming together the eggs and butter while a sponge cake starts by beating the eggs and sugar. These methods give a sponge cake its light, airy texture and a pound cake its denser, richer texture. 

Broiler cake is a sponge cake. You start by beating the sugar into the eggs. This creates millions of tiny air bubbles in the batter which expand in the oven, making your cake rise impressively and leaving it full of tiny air pockets, like a sponge. However, my mom always called it a hot milk cake, due to scalding the milk before adding it. 

What makes this cake so special, beyond the delicious sponge, is the topping. You can use coconut or crushed pineapple, or nuts if you wish. Mixed together with butter, brown sugar and cream, the topping is spread over the hot, just-out-of-the-oven cake and then stuck under the broiler for a few, short minutes. The intense heat of the broiler causes the topping to boil, melting the sugars to create a carmelized crust that is brittle on top, but soft underneath, and punctuated throughout with coconut. 

The effect is wonderful. A sweet, moist cake that is light and airy, covered over in a richly, decadent topping of carmelized coconut. And it's easy to make, to boot. A perfect cake to wow your friends or family, or to just have a piece all to yourself while the kids are napping!

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip (or Raisin) Cookies

When it comes to baked goods, are you into raisins? Or chocolate chips? 

I'm a chocolate chipper, myself. 

I like raisins. Plain, by the hand. But can't say I'm a fan of them in my cookies. Give me ooey-gooey, chocolate any day. 

My mom started making these when I was in high school and they are one of my sister's favorites. They are pleasantly chewy due to the oats and they have just a hint of cinnamon. And the good thing about them is that they please both raisin and chocolate lovers. Just add whichever you prefer. 

Sour Cream Coffeecake

I don't remember ever going to an Easter egg hunt. I'm not sure why. Maybe we did and I just don't remember it. Or maybe it's because we lived way out in the country and there were no community egg hunts nearby. But whatever the reason, don't feel bad for me. I don't feel jipped. 

Because we did get Easter baskets. Easter Sunday would find my mom sneaking quietly into our room to deposit two white, woven baskets, filled to the brim with green, plastic grass hiding all sorts of sugary treats beneath. I know, pretty standard. But the best part of the Easter basket was the gigantic, solid, white chocolate, Easter bunny nestled on top. None of that hollow, milk chocolate variety from the convenience store that tastes slightly of plastic. 

It was so special. And it delighted my little girl's heart. I would save that Easter bunny as long as I possibly could, sneaking a small bite every time I came in my room. Nibbling the ears off first. Then the head and tail. And then bit by bit, the rest of the bunny's solid, chocolatey self would disappear. 

The bunny was the best part of the basket and I would have been seriously offended if my mom had switched out my white chocolate rabbit for a milk chocolate one. Not because I don't like milk chocolate, but because I wanted to be just like my daddy. He always got a mini white chocolate on Easter, not preferring milk chocolate, and so I had to have the same.