Lemony Turmeric Tea Cake by Alison Roman

Small Victories is the name of a cookbook I own and love. It’s written by Julia Turshen who is a boss lady (check her out!). Every recipe in her book provides the reader with several “small victories” or opportunities to master a cooking technique or hack. This can look like how to make your own lasagna noodles, how to turn leftovers into a different meal, or letting your chicken come to room temp before roasting. Her book has encouraged me to pay more attention to small victories in my day to day. As someone who tends to put unnecessary pressure on herself to be impressive, I benefit from feeling accomplished in smaller tasks and letting that delight fuel me. For me, that can look like pushing myself 0.10 miles further on a run or remembering to take out the trash before it gets smelly. Little wins, folks. 

The lemony turmeric tea cake afforded me two small victories.  

Small Victory #1: I’ve said before that I don’t like turmeric. After trying this cake, I’d like to make an amendment to that claim: I don’t like turmeric when its taste overpowers my food. I can get behind turmeric if it helps complexify (is that a word) a dish without wrestling the other spices to the ground and claiming victory. A dessert is an odd way to learn this about my own pallet, but I was pleasantly surprised. 

Small Victory #2: I turned this glutenous recipe into a Gluten Free one! With the help of my pal Margaret pointing me to this King Arthur article, I made several small adjustments that really paid off. When I tried converting Alison’s Cocoa Banana Bread to gluten free, I simply swapped the AP flour for GF flour, 1:1. The result was a drier, thicker cake. But this lemon cake turned out light n’ fluffy as heck! 

Here are the alterations I made: 

• Swapped regular All-Purpose flour with Gluten-free All-Purpose flour, using a 1:1 ratio 

• Added a little less than 1 tsp. of Xanthum gum

• Used an additional egg: 3 eggs instead of just 2 eggs

Beyond flour, sugar, turmeric, and the typical baking dried ingredients, this recipe utilizes 2 tablespoons of lemon juice and 2 tablespoons of zest. The first step is incorporating the sugar and the zest by rubbing it together with your fingers, thereby turning the sugar a light yellow and releasing the lemony aroma. The sugar is then whisked into the eggs, lemon juice and greek yogurt/sour cream. A stick of melted butter and other dry ingredients get folded into the batter just before pouring it into the cake pan. Thinly sliced lemons and sugar top the cake. The lemons looked really nice, but I had to be careful not to let them burn. 

Alison mentions in the recipe description that she often makes this cake to bring to an occasion or gathering, and then ends up eating all of it herself. I can relate. It’s only because Jordan begged me to bring half of it to a bonfire that I gave some away. 

43 recipes cooked, 182 to go.

Strawberry Shortcake Cobbler by Alison Roman

“Real love baby.” — That’s the name of the playlist that underscored our baking adventure. It could also be the subtitle to this recipe. And it absolutely is what I have for the two ladies who baked this recipe with me. 

Over the past three and a half years, my husband Jordan and I have lived in four different states. California, Illinois, Texas, and Minnesota. Each stint in the journey has been full of both adventure and challenge. It goes without saying that moving is really hard. Not living in a given place for very long can complicate relationship building. It’s difficult to invest in new friendships when you know the day you’re leaving. It’s hard for others to want to invest in you, too. Moving across the country can also be disorienting. No matter how much I look forward to the next destination, I’ve always felt a deep sadness for leaving the old place behind. I’d gotten used to calling it “home.” 

Of course, there are incredible benefits to moving around. We’ve seen beautiful parts of the country, tried new foods, and met really interesting people. We’ve also grown incredibly close to one another, because on many nights, we were all the other had. Especially during the pandemic when lockdowns were in place. 

We came here to Minneapolis in August 2020, during a particularly difficult season of our lives. My health was in disarray and I was recovering from stomach surgery. Jordan was struggling with stresses of his own. We were both exhausted from the toll of living in lockdown and all of the effort it takes to drive your stuff 2,000 miles in a 20-foot truck. During those early days, we found ourselves nearly passing out in bed each night and together asking how we would find energy to get up in the morning. 

By some miracle, the move to Minneapolis was unlike any of our previous moves, because the moment we pulled up, there were people waiting to welcome us.

Those people include Jordan’s incredible parents, Tom and Michelle. They not only flew to Texas last minute to help us pack up while I was recovering in bed, but they helped us unpack on the other side and let us stay with them. We simply would not have made it here without their help. And living close to them has been a true gift. 

Madeline and Sam, two of our dearest couple friends who had only moved to Minneapolis a few weeks prior, showed up on our second night here to unpack boxes and bring us homemade sweet potato enchiladas. Their willingness to help us spoke volumes of love and care. And their friendship, weekly dinners and walks with their dog Piper, have made this town feel like home so much quicker than before. Madeline and I were once roommates in Chicago, we’ve stood in each other’s wedding, and are true kindred spirits. It’s dreamy to be back in the same city. 

Kailey and I went on a very long walk shortly after we arrived. I was still taking very small steps, trying to ease the pain of moving around, and she patiently inched her way around a lake park with me. We were in the same friendship circle in college, but it wasn’t until moving here that our kinship totally solidified. It has been a pure delight to know her on a deeper level. She too is a kindred spirit — it feels like I’ve known her for a much longer time. We have uncanny similarities and can talk for hours and hours without realizing how much time has past. She is pure joy.  

The occasion for this strawberry shortcake cobbler was to have both Madeline and Kailey officially meet. Jordan and I will be making yet another move in September to go back to Chicago. It is a dream of mine that these two women, who I think of so highly, would become friends. And what better way to get to know someone than make a dessert with them! (And drink a glass of rosé.) 

We divided and conquered. Kailey took charge of making the shortcake dough, which consisted of flour, sugar, butter, baking powder, and heavy cream. She also graciously purchased some cookie dough cutters for me on her way over — I had none! 

Madeline commandeered the three cartons of strawberries, washing and slicing them over the sink. Both of these women are excellent cooks, so I just acted as finder-of-ingredients and available sub. The strawberries are mixed with some cornstarch, sugar, and lime juice to liven things up. 

Once assembled, the cobbler is supposed to take about 25-30 minutes to bake. However, we found that it took about 35-40 minutes to achieve the results that we’re told to look for (strawberry juices bubbling and golden-topped shortcakes). Kailey made the astute point that generally speaking, “Alison is optimistic about time.” 

The afternoon flew by as we chatted about our lives, funny stories from our weddings, and our visions for the future. These women have made this home so very special. The cobbler was really good, but not as good as these pals. 

Note, there were a few bites leftover so I saved them for the next day. The shortcakes became way too dry and the strawberries seemed to lose some of their flavor. Therefore, this cobbler is best eaten right out of the oven. 

36 recipes cooked, 189 to go.

Jen's Key Lime Pie by Alison Roman

Before you ask, I’ll answer. No, I don’t know this Jen - she’s apparently Alison’s cousin. I do, however, know a few of my own Jen’s, including one who is a dear friend. She lives in Spain and teaches theater and is a great dancer and has an infectious, fun-loving spirit. I miss her. But my Spain Jen didn’t inspire this recipe. Alison’s Jen did, which means that Jen must be pretty great, too. 

This pie was just delicious. The balance of sweet, sour, and slightly salty was absolutely lovely, and I can’t wait to make this again. The results were great, but about the process—I have questions! 

Step one, making the graham cracker crust, is rather straightforward. I found GF graham crackers that honestly taste just like the Nabisco brand that I grew up with. Alison says she likes to break up the crackers into tiny crumbs with her hands. So I started doing that too. After having only gotten through half of the crackers in about 10 minutes, I decided to abandon the mission and settle for a food processor. Excellent choice, in my opinion. This went so much faster. The crumbs are then combined with melted butter, coconut oil, and a bit of sugar and salt. Press ‘em into the pie dish and bake for about 15 minutes. 

The filling is where my questions lie. The ingredients and assembly seem to mirror other key lime pie recipes I’ve seen on the Internet. Just a lot of lime juice, zest, egg yolks and a can of sweetened condensed milk. And lots of whisking as each ingredient is added. Once it’s all light and fluffy, the mixture is poured into the crust and baked… 

Alison’s recipe instructs the pie to be baked at 350° for 20 to 25 minutes. She says, “the center should barely jiggle.” So at about 22 minutes, I administered my first Jiggle Test. And boy, did it jiggle. The liquid had become more solidified, but I witnessed a lot of movement. So I put it back in for another 4 minutes. Jiggle Test #2: still rather jiggly. I checked 3 MORE TIMES! The top of the filling began to form cracks, but the jiggle was still present. Finally, after about 35 minutes, I decided to remove the pie because the cracks were becoming too worrisome, and I didn’t want the egg yolk to curdle. 

My questions are: How do I properly measure a pie jiggle? Are my jiggle standards too high? Is there a jiggle scale? Is Alison’s oven at 350° way hotter than my oven at 350°? 

In my search for answers, I compared this recipe with another NYT key lime pie recipe. This only left me more confused. The NYT recipe uses the same filling ingredients, and tells you to bake the filling at 325° for 10 to 15 minutes, “until the center is firm and dry to the touch.” If I had baked my pie at that temperature, it might have been 40 minutes by the time I reached that result! 

Alas, my Nancy Drew skills can only take me so far. If you or your loved one are experienced key lime pie bakers and have any leads on answers to my questions, please contact me by commenting on this post. Thank you in advance. 

Despite the filling confusion, the pie tasted excellent. The X factor for the whipped topping was adding in some yogurt after the heavy cream and sugar were fully whipped. This gave it a fresh, light, slightly sour taste that wonderfully complemented the other elements. 

We shared this pie with our dear friends, Madeline and Sam after an Alison-inspired dinner of Paprika-rubbed Chicken and Crispy Smashed Potatoes. Madeline brought excellent glazed carrots from The Food Lab, which I can’t wait to make myself.

31 recipes cooked, 194 to go.

Tiny, Salty, Chocolatey Cookies by Alison Roman

It is on a rare day that I crave chocolate. Generally speaking, I’m a savory gal. If I must have something sweet, I dream of strawberry pie or tangy lemon bars. It sounds like Alison and I are in agreement on this. But every once in a while, we have a hankering for a small morsel, literally just a taste of chocolate, preferably dark chocolate. And it is for this instance that these cookies were created. 

Seldom though they are, my chocolate cravings tend to come on strongly and usually at night. One minute I’m relaxing on the couch, and the next I’m on my feet urgently searching the refrigerator’s bottom shelf for the Trader Joe's Pound Plus bar I keep in the back. These cravings don’t mess around. Which is why these cookies may be my solution. They take less than an hour to assemble and bake. 

Plus, they’re tiny, (which makes them dangerously snackable), and unintentionally gluten free. Ingredients only include cocoa powder, sugar, eggs, brown butter, and chocolate. Alison gives an option for chopped nuts, but I say no nuts, keep it simple.

One confounding aspect of this recipe is the quantity it yields. Alison tells you to “drop quarter-sized blobs of dough” onto the baking sheet. To make sure I achieved the right size, I dug out a quarter from my wallet and laid it on the counter to reference. I’ve never been great at size approximations. She says this should make 24 cookies. But using a quarter as my guide, my dough produced not 24, but 44 cookies! It took four rounds of baking to get them all in and out of the oven. I’m not complaining, more cookies is always better than less. I just kept wondering when this fishes and loaves situation would run out. 

These tiny cookies are a real treat, no matter how often you crave chocolate.

26 recipes cooked, 199 to go.

Crushed Blackberry and Cornmeal Cake by Alison Roman

Berries in the winter are an act of resilience. They’re a burst of hope for warmer days. I wanted to make this seemingly summer cake on a zero degree day because my heart needed a reminder that seasons don’t last forever. Seasons are just that -- seasons. Something good is always around the corner. I love the way cooking can be an act of resilience. Resistance against melancholy, despair, and even the cold. 

Choosing what to cook directs our mindsets and spirits. To make a decadent meal in the middle of grief says, “Against all odds, I can still find pleasure.” Even better, cooking for someone else in the middle of grief says, “I will find it within myself to be a blessing.” In the past year, I have known much grief. Cooking has helped me climb my way through it. 

Food is a physical, incarnational way to express love and concern for other people. It’s the realest way I know how. Real in the sense that the people you love can see, smell, taste, and be nourished by your food. Cooking is embodied love.  

This blackberry cake was shared with people I love: Madeline, Sam, Kailey, J, my in-law parents, and Gina who sits at our apartment lobby’s front desk four days a week. (All at different times of course, because you know, pandemic). Sharing this cake was the best part of this cake. 

As far as baking went, the assembly was rather quick and could all be done by hand. My favorite part was manually crushing 2 pints of blackberries, releasing the juices from their little pods and smelling their sweet fragrance. The blackberries are incorporated at two different steps. Half of them get folded into the batter, and the other half are poured on top of the batter once it’s in the cake pan. This ensures a rather even distribution of berries in this otherwise subtly sweet cake. 

I think my cake turned out drier than it’s supposed to be, primarily because I called another audible and swapped regular all-purpose flour for GF all-purpose flour in a 1:1 ratio. I was a little disappointed. I’ve swapped in GF flour in two different recipes now, and both have wound up drier than expected. Upon hearing about this difficulty, my baking-expert pal, Margaret, did some quick research and sent me this illuminating article from King Arthur about how to sub in GF ingredients without losing moisture and volume. The article suggests that beyond a flour substitute, a GF recipe will need Xanthum gum and additional eggs for wetness. I’m looking forward to giving this method a try in my next Alison dessert. 

Lastly, I was very pleased by my choice of cake condiment. Yes, cakes can have condiments, too! Alison suggests butter and honey, which I’m sure tastes nice. But what I wanted more was lemon curd! I had leftover egg yolks from another recipe I was working on and didn’t want them to go to waste. So I whipped up a half recipe of lemon curd, and boy oh boy, did it elevate the cake experience. Not only in terms of flavor, but also moisture - the curd made up for the cake’s dryness. 

22 recipes cooked, 203 to go.

Dropping off cake to Kailey. A highlight of my week!

Cake is an excellent accompaniment to folding laundry.