When Life Gives You Lemons ...

... make Lemon Pudding Cake! Oh, I know, the "Life gives you lemons" bit is a bit cliche, but there's nothing cliche about my zest for all things lemon. My love for lemon-everything began early-on. Lemon meringue pie (why don't I make those more often?!), lemonade (what could be more refreshing?), and my all-time favorite lemon dessert: Lemon Pudding Cake clearly had a dramatic effect on me growing up. My family was never big on desserts - or, I should say: the children in my family rarely indulged in desserts and sweets. I'm positive that it had nothing to do with dental caries, and more to do with raising four kids on the cheap. But I do have vague recollections of waking early in the morning and seeing remnants of (gasp!) desserts shared by my mom and dad. Ice cream dishes with an enviable coating of homemade caramel sauce was what I remember most for some reason. But of the desserts we shared in our family, my favorite by far was the Lemon Pudding Cake.

Imagine this as a pillowy-lemony-cloud-meets-tastebuds moment. Then imagine it warm and gooey, with just the right amount of tart and sweet and you've got one of my all-time favorite desserts. I don't know that my mom was the best cook around, but she certainly was a great baker. This recipe is the proof in the proverbial pudding:

LEMON PUDDING CAKE:


4 eggs, separated
1/3 C lemon juice (I add lime if I have it, too)
1 t lemon zest
1 tbsp butter (melted)
1.5 C sugar
.5 C flour
½ tsp salt
1.5 C milk
Beat egg yolks, lemon juice, rind and melted butter until thick and lemony-colored. Combine sugar, flour & salt; add alternately with milk (many times I’ll go half milk / half cream) to the yolk mixture – beating well after each addition.

Beat egg whites until they form stiff, glossy peaks. Fold into batter with a spatula, then nearly/fully integrate with a spoon.

Spoon into ramekins being sure to keep a good ratio of the frothy-part of the batter to the gooier part.

Set ramekins into a dish of hot water, then into the oven. (My mom always baked this in a larger pan suitable to be divided up for four servings, but I love individual ramekins!) Bake at 350 for 35-45 minutes.

I've never tasted these cold, as I never have the patience after mixing and baking to wait any longer than until they're somewhat less than molten before eating. :o)

And now that I've typed this out and thought long and hard about moms and desserts and lemons, I find myself thinking about my mom's delicious custardy peach pie. But, that's another story.

Oh, baby!

I've been eating them for years, and making them for decades. Babies, folks. Dutch Babies. Golden, hot, pillowy cushions of fluffy egg goodness. A perfect blending of savory, tart and sweet (at least in my incarnation).

Taking a minimum of usually-in-the-fridge-and-pantry items, in a half an hour Dutch Babies can be yours. While mixing the following ingredients in a blender, fire up the oven to 450 degrees and place a cast iron skillet on the middle rack. My skillet is 8" diameter, but you can proportion the recipe up or down as necessary for your skillet's size.
Toss 5 eggs into the blender and whirl until a frothy light-yellow. Add alternately 2/3 C flour and 2/3 C whole milk. Mix until thoroughly combined, then add a 1/2 tsp of salt.
Now back to that smokin' hot skillet: once it's up to temperature, toss a half cube of butter into it until nearly melted. Quickly pour the egg/milk/flour mixture in, and set the timer for 15 minutes. Once your baby-in-the-making begins to puff on the edges (at the 15 minute mark) turn the temperature down to 375 degrees until it has a uniform brown and the center has fully set. Immediately remove from the pan, add a dollop of butter ... Sprinkle with sifted powdered sugar and drizzle with lemon (or lime juice) to your preference. Work quickly, as these deflate quickly once pulled from the oven.
Although I've only had the aforementioned topping, other recipes call for the addition of a tablespoon of sugar, a half-teaspoon of cinnamon, a teaspoon of vanilla and a topping of homemade apple pie filling. Blueacre Seafood in downtown Seattle is the first restaurant I know of in the core of the city to offer Dutch Babies on their weekend brunch menu. Their addition of macerated strawberries and house made Cool Whip sounds delicious!

History: Manca's Cafe at 2nd & Columbia was opened in the early 1900s - closing somewhere in the early 1950s. Dutch Babies were a staple there - said to be the first restaurant  in the area to have them regularly on their menu.

A Morning in the Market

Visiting Pike Place Market certainly isn't new to me. I work less than a 10-minute walk away, and my bus departs for home just 2 blocks up Pike from it - but the Market takes on a unique feel early in the morning on Sundays. It's this time of the day when the Market feels most unique and real to me. Not that it isn't the rest of the time, but as vendors are opening-up shop and stacking their wares is when they're most approachable to me. They'll chat more (albiet while they're unpacking), and you can really learn something from them when they haven't been sapped by their 1,000th question about the first Starbucks or the location of the bathrooms. I guess what I'm trying to say is that they're most personable at this hour. They ask more questions ("What's all the fish for?" "Inviting others to enjoy that, too?" "Live closeby?") and seem more sincere in wanting answers. Later in the day, their questions sound more contrived - although maybe it's just the way I perceive it as I've been taxed by questions, too, by day's end.

I love meandering through the maze of vehicles to my favorite fish shop in search of mussels or clams or smoked fish-bellies. I love the warmth my loaf of bread still holds - hearkening back to still being in their 'rising' stage when my eyes were still blisfully closed and my head on pillow. I love the freshness of the air - not yet tinged with spilled lattes and sun-warmed fish entrails. Even the wafting scents from Daily Dozen seem to linger as they dance to my nose to the music provided by buskers.

Every weekend should involve an early morning spent talking to vendors ... selecting fruit perfection ... gathering blossoms so bright they make you squint, and eyeing vendors with fresh smiles and witty banter. Is it too late to make a New Year's Resolution in August?