This is the first cake, cake, with layers and frosting, I’ve made since we’ve moved to Connecticut. I’ve been in a funk. 

Complaining over my two very small plots of counter space.

Complaining that Trader Joe’s is a good 15 minute drive as opposed to my less than 5 minute walk in Chicago.

A little too pessimistic. And a little too ungrateful for my own good, and anyone else’s good for that matter.

Sometimes you have to get the mixer out even when you don’t want to. And make a cake that wooed you once before. To remind yourself that 2 small plots of counter space and a 15 minute drive aren’t all that bad.

If there’s one thing that can get me out of a funk, it’s Roasted Banana Cake with Browned Butter Cream Cheese Frosting. This cake has healing powers. Take my word.

Cake recipe adapted from Warren Brown’s, Cake Love.

I’m hanging out over at With Style and Grace today sharing this gluten-free gem during her maternity leave. I need to publicly state: my hat is completely off to every GF baker out there. How do you guys do it? After a couple failed baking attempts, I ditched flour all together and went with this little number. I think that means I either cheated or got smart. 

In other news, you may have noticed the new link in the nav—Recipe Box. I’m partnering with Ziplist to make recipe-saving and shopping-list-creating a little easier.

In other other news, we, Wooden Spoons Kitchen, just launched Baked Bree’s new site today. We think it’s mighty pretty, but we’re biased.

Two more things—have you entered the Silpat giveaway yet? Will I get to meet you at Alt next week? I hope so!

Sorry for the infomercial post today. I owe you a really good recipe on Wednesday.

This cake is my nod to fall. My nod that it’s coming. But not here yet. I may be wearing my favorite sweatshirt and yoga pants already. Working with the windows open. That’s allowing the tinniest of chills to blow through our apartment. Drinking warm coffee in the morning instead of iced. And we may have gone pear-picking already.

But we also just bought a pile of bright red tomatoes from that same farm we picked our pears. Summer can’t be over yet. I just made my first batch of salsa for the season. And probably my last. I’m not sure what it is I’m hanging on to. I love autumn. And bonfires. And burnt marshmallows. And warm sweatshirts. I hear fall paints a pretty picture in the northeast.

But it feels like we’re just getting settled. I’m ready to take our grill out back and have a cookout with our new friends. We’ll eat homemade ice cream for dessert. And complain about how warm it is. And how we can’t wait for … fall.

Maybe I’ll serve acorn squash risotto instead. And this little number for dessert—a dense yet flavor-filled almond cake. Just the way I like it. Topped with autumns offspring—pears. It tastes like fall. And I guess that’s a good thing—I think it’s coming. If not already here.

 Recipe adapted from United Cakes of America.

PS—check out my post over at Mint today.

I hoard two things in this world. Gift cards. And recipes. And maybe holey-armpit t-shirts, but we’ve already gone down that road.

My wallet is full of gift cards from last Christmas. Who knows, maybe from the Christmas prior. I’m not a shopper of clothes. But if and when I do, I probably have a gift card to pay for the total. I call this resourceful. My husband calls this wasteful. His giftcards don’t last a month.

I guess I hoard recipes too. I worked on this recipe over a month ago. And found it buried in my journal of messily written recipes. Hoarding gift cards is genius. Hoarding recipes, like this one, is downright stupid.

Better late than never. Right? Speaking of hoarding, later this week I’m sharing my food fauxtography tips and tricks I’ve learned over the last couple of years. If you swore you’d never pick up a camera or if the word photography makes you break out in sweat, this is for you. Yes, I swore and sweat. And still sweat.

PS—Happy Labor Day!

Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit

We still have zucchini left after making these bundt cakes and a zucchini pizza last night. I told you we had a lot. And it’s only when you have a lot of zucchini that you begin making cakes out of it. Don’t worry, we’ve eaten plenty of it in its original nutrition-filled form. But eventually you have to make cakes. Mini bundt cakes.

With browned butter revitalizing the interior and orange cardamom glaze landscaping the outside, you may begin to handle all zucchini this way.

Confession—I just bought a jar of cardamom for the first time. I didn’t grow up tasting it, that I know of. It’s usage is not innate like cumin and chili powder are to me. But after one bite of this cake, I think I can quickly adapt. Its flavor is grown up. Spicy for lack of a better word. With a peppery hint. Paired with orange, it’s a match made in heaven.

The only real problem I have with this bundt cake is that spell check underlines bundt every time I type it. Bundt. Bundt. Bundt. Thankfully you can’t see this red dotted line filled preview. It shows up normal on your end because it is in fact spelled correctly. Unless I switch the N and the D which I so often do. But I’d never know. Red. Dotted. Line. Everywhere.

PS—Thanks for all the sweet comments last Wednesday! I’m finally feeling back to normal which means I’m not so wordless.  I don’t know—maybe you like the wordless posts?

This cake is crazy simple. No mixer needed. Just a good ole wooden spoon or spatula. Of course I snuck some wheat flour in for good measure. Be sure to butter and flour the sides of the pan well. Otherwise you’ll hate me when the cakes break or get stuck in the pan. Let’s not go there.

PPS—While making these cakes, I was eyeing Jacqui’s, from Good Thing Grow, Chocolate Zucchini Bundt Cakes with mousse. Yes please!

Simple is hard. And it happens to be a big part of my day job. As a designer, I try to pare information down to its most simple form. Communicate only what is most important.

But the task of paring down, of achieving simplicity, is hard. And messy. And often uncomfortable. It means getting rid of things. Sometimes good things. It means making decisions. And most times it means putting more time in on the front end.

There’s a quote I love—Pare down to the essence, but don’t remove the poetry. Keep things clean & unencumbered but don’t sterilize (Leonard Koren, Wabi-Sabi).

Simplicity is an art form. It is to be clean but not sterile. To be simple but still poetic. It’s hard. Harder than it looks. But to that end, I’ll keep creating.

This brown butter, almond-y cake is dense and full of flavor. It wears a crusty top and hides a moist crumb. Its raspberries scattered throughout may be the most savored bites. But don’t take my word for it.

I promised pictures of my sister’s wedding after divulging all the dirty details on the Salted Caramel Chocolate Buttercream Groom’s Cake that nearly took me down. She made it to the wedding still standing— the cake, that is. I also had the privilege of designing my sister’s wedding invites. They were fun and quirky with a splash of class. Just like them. The wedding was incredibly thoughtful and crazy beautiful. Full of touches from family and friends. I could go on and on, but I’ll just leave it at that.

Florist Sami Volcansek (friend), Blush and Bashful Weddings
Photographers Lauren Coleman (my sis-in-law) and Kalli Davis (friend), Lauren Kalli Photography (more wedding pics here)
Invitations Melissa Coleman (that’s me), Scratch Design Studio

PS—I used similar wood slabs in this post. You can purchase them from Whispering Pines.

Making margarita cupcakes turned into making more margarita cupcakes.

Which turned into an excess of limes and eggs lying around the kitchen.

Which turned into jars of lime curd.

Which turned into a margarita cake filled with lime curd. I think summer just got better. Cheers!

1. Make lime curd.
2. Make Margarita Cake while lime curd cools.
3. Ice, eat, and ‘clink’!

Adapted from Cake Love. 

PS—Check out my post over at Mint today.
PPS—Stay tuned for a giveaway next week. And maybe the next week too.