how to win friends & influence people

Last weekend, I helped my friend Patti throw a barbeque.  Since I love a good kitchen project - and, let's be real, being in control - I volunteered to take charge of the sides and desserts.  Oh, and I also decided to make some jello shots - because nothing says "casual backyard barbeque" like corrupting an innocent childhood treat with massive amounts of liquor so cheap it may as well be rubbing alcohol.  Today, we're going to talk about the booze and desserts because those are the only items I have photos of.

Let's start with the shots, a logical place to begin.  These were not your standard college jello shots.  They did not come in tiny mini cups and did not require the shot-taker to do unbecoming things with his or her tongue before choking them down.  No, these were cute, innocent little shots, contained in tiny little lemon rinds.

I got the idea for the shots, of course, on Pinterest.  They were supposed to be pink lemonade, but I just used strawberry Jello.  Though adorable, the shots were kind of a pain-in-the-ass for this impatient gal.  The method is fussy.  You first cut a lemon in half; then you juice it and scoop out all of the fleshy, acidic membrane with a spoon.  Prepare the jello according to the package directions, replacing the cold water with cheap vodka (keep the boiling water as-is), and pour the Jello mix into each lemon half.  Refrigerate overnight, and then cut each half in half again (so that one lemon yields four shots.)  Don't be a dingbat like me and think that gelatin expands - it doesn't.  Feel free to fill the halves up all the way; otherwise, you'll have to trim the excess lemon peel with a paring knife.

Despite the high-maintenance preparation of these jello shots, serving them at a backyard barbeque is a good idea for a couple of reasons.  For one, it's a great way to make friends.  (Forget Dale Carnegie.  The answer is booze, people.)  The partygoers were comprised of a few of my friends, lots of Patti's friends, and some "mutuals".  By the end of the party, I knew everybody, which I will attribute 100% to the jello shots, and not my shining personality. (Fact: I have, on more on one occasion, been described as "icy".)  Just like history’s most successful pickup line is a simple, “Hey, can I buy you a drink?", studies show that the most successful way to make friends is, “Hey, want a jello shot?”  Another great thing about the lemon shots is that lemon rinds are biodegradable, so you don't even have to worry too much about the trash.

With an excess of lemon juice from hollowed-out lemon rinds, I could either drink approximately eight vodka lemonades, if that's a thing - or I could, as a more responsible alternative, make a lemon-y dessert.  I chose a lemon-blueberry cake.  But, more on that later.  First, I want to talk about this strawberry rhubarb pie.  


I had been planning to make this pie all week, at Whitney's request.  With strawberry season in full swing and rhubarb season just underway, it was a natural choice.  And since I had never actually made a pie, I thought it would be a fun project.  I am not a pie eater, which apparently I get from my mother.  (Her response to "Mom! I made a pie today!" was "Ew, why would you do that?")  Must be the Ecuador speaking.  But, you know what? I am 75% WASP - and a Virginian, on top of it all - so it's about damn time I learned how to make a proper pie.  So, I dusted off all my hand-me-down southern cookbooks and hit the interwebs for research.

Making pie from scratch isn't all that bad, just a little time-consuming.  It's a good thing I have no life, and I had a date Thursday night with a bag full of lemons, anyway.  Pie dough could easily be added to the agenda.  The recipe was, shocker, taken from smitten kitchen, and instead of reprinting it below, you can just follow the link because I followed it exactly as written.  Actually, I made a little criss-cross basket weave pattern with my upper crust instead of a solid sheet.  (The amount of dough I needed was the same, though.  I just rolled it out and cut it into long strips with a pizza cutter.)  I think those basketweaves are so very Americana, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to make the most American strawberry rhubarb pie you ever did see.  Anyway, get the pie here.  And follow the recipe for this pie crust.  Side note, I am still using my wine bottle as a rolling pin.  And it's still working.

 

Okay, now that we have that out of the way - back to the lemon-blueberry cake.  This "cake" was originally a quickbread from - again, this is getting embarrassing - smitten kitchen.  But, I am actually going to attribute the loaf to the Barefoot Contessa, because, well, it was hers originally.  Not because I think Deb, the genius behind smitten kitchen, might file an internet restraining order against me for stalking her recipes.  The good news is, I think I am getting more comfortable with baking because, guess what!  I made it my own.  I swapped ingredients without any problems and I added a sugary glaze to make it a real cake.  Of course I didn't make up the glaze - I took it from Heidi.  Because if I am going to cover a quickbread in sugar and make it a cake, I should probably do it the right way.  So there you have it, my trifecta of perfection in female food writers.  Ina, Deb, and Heidi.  I’m a creep.

Another sign that I am getting better at baking is that I actually replicated the recipe, sans disaster.  This time, I made it for a 9am meeting this week, so I omitted the glaze and called it a "loaf".  I also convinced my colleagues that it was an acceptable breakfast, since it had blueberries and yogurt and no butter in it.  Yes, I neglected to mention the whopping ONE CUP of sugar.  It's a lot, I know.  Feel free to cut back, but I think it gives a great sweetness to balance out the tart lemons.)  The photos are from the no-icing version.   

Lemon-blueberry cake
Adapted loosely from Ina Garten
Makes one 9-inch round or standard loaf pan

For the cake:
1 1/2 cups + 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup 0% Greek yogurt
1 cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest (approximately 2 lemons)
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1/2 cup coconut oil (you could also use canola oil)
1 1/2 cups blueberries (I used frozen but you could use fresh, too)

For the glaze (optional):
1/3 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup confectioners sugar
1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch cake pan (you could also use a 8 1/2 by 4 1/4 by 2 1/2-inch loaf pan).

Sift together 1 1/2 cups flour, baking powder, and salt into 1 bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, lemon zest, almond extract and oil. Slowly whisk the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. Mix the blueberries with the remaining tablespoon of flour, and fold them very gently into the batter. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 50 minutes, or until a cake tester placed in the center of the loaf comes out clean.

Meanwhile, whisk the brown sugar and the confectioners sugar together, and slowly whisk in the lemon juice, until you achieve a glaze-like consistency. If your glaze is too runny, add more sugar. If it’s not syrupy enough, add more juice. Set aside.

When the cake is done, allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes before flipping out onto a cooling rack. Carefully place on a baking rack over a sheet pan. While the cake is still warm, pour the glaze over the cake. Best served warm.

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