Dessert

Chocolate Stout & Blackberry Shortcakes

You and I, we have a very odd relationship.

I tell you stories, like that time I almost died in Morocco, or about that time I was asked to do porn. I give you recipes that I hope you like, and answer your question about beer and how to get chicken skin super crispy. And you tweet me pictures of the dishes of mine that you make, and email me about how your soon-to-be in-laws now love you because you made them Honey Mustard Stout Chicken, or that you finally know what you were always doing wrong to screw up baked Mac N Cheese, and now you make the creamiest Mac in town.

And I love all of that. The tweets especially, those make my day. But you have to admit, this is odd. And I hope that someday we meet, I’ll buy you a beer, and then you buy me one. And after a few, I’ll tell you all to stories I won’t post.

Someday. Beers and inappropriate stories all around.

The first time I made a cake I did everything wrong.

I didn’t care what the directions said, I was going to do it my way, because that made way more sense. I was just going to add all the ingredients at once, because that saves time. And the greasing and flouring of the pans, I had no idea what this meant, and it sounded like a lot of work. So I skipped it. I didn’t check the oven temperate, I just turned it on. And then the frosting, I did the same thing. It ended up looking like cottage cheese. And the cake didn’t come out of the pan, and because the batter wasn’t mixed well, and the butter was still in lumps, it had crater like pock marks where the butter lumps had melted.

But I ate it anyway, with my lumpy frosting.

I’ve made a thousand cakes since then, but that’s the one that I learned the most from. That’s the one I remember. I learned that directions matter, that softened butter is an important thing, that steps count, as does oven temperate. I learned that if you’re going to all the work to make a cake from scratch, you should respect the process and enjoy the time. Or just go buy one.

Be all in or all out, but don’t half way make a cake. If you’re going to do it, make it count. And enjoy every minute.

Chocolate Stout S’Mores Icebox Pie: no bake, ten minutes prep.

 I had a conversation with a group of brewers the other day about water, a conversation that reminded me of what is at the heart of most brewers.

They were concerned about how much water the beer industry uses in the midst of a drought. It didn’t matter that beer uses far less water than other beverages, that it doesn’t even come close to the top five most water-consuming drinks, or the top 20 food products. It was about them giving back, figuring out how to be better, do better, give more back.  

I see this spirit in most of the craft beer world. I see start-up breweries run by owners still working day jobs to make ends meet. I see most breweries make little to nothing on 6-packs, some even lose money. I see brewers who make far less than people think, giving to charities in their neighborhoods. I see breweries that aren’t even breaking even after 4 years talk about how lucky they are to do what they do. So why do they do? Because they can’t imagine doing anything else. Because they love it.

People who are in craft beer never talk about how much it costs to buy. It’s expensive to make, for what you get, it’s a sold at bargain prices. If beer had the mark-up that soda does, it would easily cost over $100 for a six-pack. Sure, brewers could mark up their beer, make more. But no brewer gets into beer to get rich, and you can see that when you meet one.

So please don’t complain about the cost of craft beer, you’re not the one who has to figure out how to balance the ledgers at the end of the month.

Blackberry Stout Mini Pies with Beer Whipped Cream 

You fall in love with beer the way you fall in love with music. Good music, the kind that gets into your bones and moves your soul, the kind you can’t explain to someone who frowns when they hear the same opening chord that makes you giddy.

You can dissect music, break down the lyrics, examine every note. You can categorize it, but you can’t really explain why it moves you, why a live recording with errors and missed keys has a vibe that’s better than the perfect Pro Tools-ed edition.

Beer isn’t different. You can break down the ingredients, explain the process, decide why one beer is better balanced than others in that style, but you can’t convey why you really love it. You can take the Jack and Coke out of your friend’s hand, replace it with Left Hand Milk Stout and explain why it tastes like love and James Brown music. But you can’t replace the confusion when he doesn’t get it.

 You just have to accept that some people just won’t fall in the same love that you do. Just like if John Bonham rose from the grave, reunited with the rest of Led Zeppelin, there are some people who would go to the show, nod, smile and check the clock, hoping it would be over soon.

Some times I like to introduce Jack and Coke guy to a new beer, even if he doesn’t get it. And sometimes I just want to go the show with someone who wants to try to get as close to the stage as possible, begging for one more encore. Sometimes I just need to drink beer with a beer person.

I used this Pale Ale Pie Dough recipe. 

 Beer Velvet Cake. No food dye, all win. 

Let’s talk about red velvet for a second. It’s a cultural phenomenon with inspired spin offs that include vodka, candles, coffee, and a myriad of other head tilt inducing concoctions that lead me to wonder why exactly this dessert deserving of all this hype.

Sure, I’ve had my share. I’ve made countless recipes passed on by friends as "The Best" variation. I’ve talked to devotees that swear it’s the best cake they’ve ever had, requesting it for every birthday. I’ve had cupcakes, doughnuts, and even pie, but I’m always left wondering.

When the recipe leads me to the step that calls for two (yes TWO) bottles of red food coloring, I pause. It’s not so much the potentially toxic nature of the inclusion of such an ingredient, (for a rundown of why red food coloring is bad read this). As a recipe developer, I wonder if there is a reason for the addition of this ingredient that I’m possibly overlooking. Why is it called for in such a massive quantity?

Was there a reason I’m not aware of? Rumor has it that it just goes back to good 'ole fashion American capitalism. I’ve been told this is food folklore, I’ve been told it’s true, but even Food & Wine Magazine reports that the inclusion of two bottles of red food dye has been linked to a man in Texas trying to sell more red food dye.

Fact or fiction one thing is undeniable: the red food coloring does not add anything to the taste or texture of the cake and could potentially distract from it.  But what will add to the flavor and texture of your cake? Beer. Beer is a natural leavening agent that adds a fantastic, slightly lighter texture all while gifting your cake with the beautiful flavors of roasted grains.

For this cake, I used the recipe that most variations lead back to: The Waldorf Astoria Red Cake, with the traditional white roux frosting. The only substitution I made was beer for red food dye, which, I have to say, gave me the best velvet cake I’ve made.

Beer always wins.

 Chocolate Porter Mousse Tart with Potato Chip Crust. POTATO CHIP CRUST!! #chocolate #beer #recipe

You already know the kind of tricks I play over here. You know that I add salty things to sweet things more often than not. You know that pretzels have been a favorite, as is bacon. But I’ve moved on, or really, I’m expanding.

I’m broadening my salty-sweet pairings to improve upon those chocolate covered potato chips you love so much more than you expected to. Sweet and savory is a balance, like malt and hops. It’s a way to round out flavors and bring them to a new level. Try it the other way too. Add a little brown sugar to your fried chicken, or maple syrup to your barbecue sauce.

Beer needs that same balance, a little sweetness from the malt, and a little bitterness from the hops. Of course, I needed a beer that messed around with these principles as well. It seemed a bit fated when this beer showed up on my doorstep from Stone Brewing. This beer is savory. It’s warm and smokey with notes of cocoa and orange. It’s not a sweet chocolate beer that you might be used to. It’s perfect to pair with a big plate of barbecue beer ribs, and finish with a tart that has a big kick of savory-salty dessert mouthful. Stone’s Smoked Porter with Chocolate and Orange Peel is a fantastic cooking beer, the flavors and big and bold. It’s a fantastic reminder of how important beer and food are becoming to each other.

For the chips, I used Kettle Brand Sea Salt chips, so perfect.