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Cake on my mind
Nov. 18th, 2010 08:57 amSince the weather has finally cooled to the point where turning the oven on no longer turns the house into a fiery inferno, I've been in the mood to bake cakes. I've got somewhere around eleventy-thousand recipes I want to try out, ranging from some of the old favorites (lemon-curd cakes, chocolate-raspberry torte) to new stuff (French apple cake, pumpkin cake).
Well, let me tell you, I think I've just learned a very valuable lesson: don't bother trying to make seven-minute (or eleven-minute, or whatever) icing if you don't have either a stand mixer or two energetic friends standing by to take over when you collapse from exhaustion. I need to spend a little more time reading up on this icing type, because it seems like it may just be a finicky beast; first, you make a sugar syrup and heat it up to firm ball (245 degrees), then you pour the syrup into some fluffy egg whites. Take that mixture, and beat it until your arm is about to fall off, then beat it until your other arm is about to fall off, then try to figure out how to beat it with your left foot, then try to figure out how to beat it with your right foot, then try to figure out how to get it out of your hair and off of your cat, then repeat a minimum of five times, and then it might be just about at the right stage.
Then you add butter. If you've spent any period of time whatsoever learning about how to beat egg whites, you'll remember that the arch nemesis of fluffy egg whites is fat. I believe this is where I screwed up. I'm guessing that the extended egg-beating does something to the chemistry of the egg whites and sugar, such that they obtain powers to resist the butter. I suspect that I didn't beat my egg whites long enough, but given that I've never seen seven-minute icing made before, I just wasn't sure what to look for anyway. And my arms were tired. And of course that's the sort of property that doesn't photograph well.
So, I wound up with a (tasty, but) buttery, soupy mess. Blah. There went all that hard work.
I have to admit, I put it on a cake anyway. And if you come over to my house, I'll make you eat some. And I'll make you help me the next time I go to make a seven-minute icing.
Well, let me tell you, I think I've just learned a very valuable lesson: don't bother trying to make seven-minute (or eleven-minute, or whatever) icing if you don't have either a stand mixer or two energetic friends standing by to take over when you collapse from exhaustion. I need to spend a little more time reading up on this icing type, because it seems like it may just be a finicky beast; first, you make a sugar syrup and heat it up to firm ball (245 degrees), then you pour the syrup into some fluffy egg whites. Take that mixture, and beat it until your arm is about to fall off, then beat it until your other arm is about to fall off, then try to figure out how to beat it with your left foot, then try to figure out how to beat it with your right foot, then try to figure out how to get it out of your hair and off of your cat, then repeat a minimum of five times, and then it might be just about at the right stage.
Then you add butter. If you've spent any period of time whatsoever learning about how to beat egg whites, you'll remember that the arch nemesis of fluffy egg whites is fat. I believe this is where I screwed up. I'm guessing that the extended egg-beating does something to the chemistry of the egg whites and sugar, such that they obtain powers to resist the butter. I suspect that I didn't beat my egg whites long enough, but given that I've never seen seven-minute icing made before, I just wasn't sure what to look for anyway. And my arms were tired. And of course that's the sort of property that doesn't photograph well.
So, I wound up with a (tasty, but) buttery, soupy mess. Blah. There went all that hard work.
I have to admit, I put it on a cake anyway. And if you come over to my house, I'll make you eat some. And I'll make you help me the next time I go to make a seven-minute icing.
