A Cake with 28 Ingredients is Just the Reason to Plan a Party

It's true. A recipe, a layer cake in the instance, that calls for 28 separate ingredients is a challenge, a chance to throw down in the kitchen. Often, this kind of recipe is the reason I get up in the morning, the reason I'm Googling when I can't sleep and the reason my Pinterest boards overfloweth.

So I ran across this cake. Maybe it should be in all caps. This CAKE. This CAKE created the opportunity to plan a dinner party, invite friends and family from far and wide and anticipate the automatic comedy sure to occur when four women who bake converge on a condominium galley kitchen.  I set about building a party menu around this innocent, perhaps overwrought, two-layer CAKE, grinning all the while.

The menu included my cousin's incredible sausage mushroom caps, my sister in law's cannoli cake, my best friend's amazing taste in wine and these odd little individual Cesar salad boats.  And some sort of pasta that I don't specifically remember because Apothic was invited and made quite the ebullient guest.  

I spent a few days gathering ingredients, hitting several Asian markets and one tiny Latin market that, inexplicably, had fresh Thai Bird Chilis.  On CAKE day, we set about making this CAKE for which there were five separate tasks before the entire thing could be assembled.  The very mise en place for this behemoth took up the entire bar - well, the part not occupied by the Apothic brothers.  Probably one of the most enticing aspects of this CAKE recipe was that there was a significant number of ingredients I'd never purchased OR tasted.  Kaffir Lime Leaves, Thai Bird Chilis, Thai Green Curry, Coconut Milk Powder...all new to me.  

By the time dinner (and most of the Apothic) was finished, no one was in the mood for dessert so we just sat around the table, laughed and looked at this confectionery tower of Thai terror.  Finally, I couldn't hold out and cut into the CAKE.  

It was wonderful.  Now go make it. Don't forget to put up a supply of water and other rations (Bourbon).  You'll be in the kitchen for awhile.

OH!  I nearly forgot. If you want to support Rebel's Kitchen - The Food Truck Edition, you can click here:  Rebel's Kitchen IndieGoGo Campaign

Chocolate Thai Green Curry Cake - adapted from Food52

Makes one 9" two-layer cake

Cake components - chocolate cake, ginger syrup, chocolate kaffir lime chile ganache, green curry buttercream, and coconut milk peanuts

For the chocolate cake
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon Ghirardelli cocoa powder
1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4teaspoon salt
3/4 cup whole milk
1/2 cup Ghirardelli cocoa powder
1/4 cup coconut milk
4 ounces (1 stick) butter
1/2 cup raw sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon grated ginger
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

For the ginger simple syrup
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup water
1"pieces ginger, peeled and cut into 1/8" thick slices

For the ganache filling
2 small Thai bird chiles
4 Kaffir lime leaves
6 ounces heavy cream
6 ounces 70% dark chocolate - Ghirardelli

For the green curry buttercream frosting
5 large egg whites
1 cup granulated sugar
10 ounces unsalted butter, slightly cooler than room temperature
3/4 teaspoon Maesri green curry paste

For the coconut milk peanuts
1/2 cup unsalted roasted peanuts
2 tablespoons coconut milk powder

Make the ganache  - do this first because it needs time to set.
Cut the stem end off the chiles and slice each one into quarters lengthwise. Tear the kaffir lime leaves into a few pieces each. Add the chiles, lime leaves, and cream to a small saucepan and bring to just below a boil. Turn off the heat, cover the pan, and let the cream steep for 15 minutes.
Finely chop the chocolate and put it in a medium bowl.
Bring the cream to a bare simmer, then pour it through a sieve directly onto the chocolate. Let the cream sit for 30 seconds, then gently but thoroughly whisk the mixture to melt all of the chocolate. Let the ganache sit at room temperature until it is firm but spreadable, about 2 hours. Alternately, you can put the bowl in the fridge, but make sure to stir it every 10 minutes so that it doesn't get too hard.
Make the chocolate cake
Preheat oven to 350, with rack set in the center. Use the 1 teaspoon of butter to grease two 9" round cake pans. Divide the 1 tablespoon of cocoa powder between the pans and swirl it around the pan to evenly coat the bottom and sides. Shake out excess cocoa powder.
In a medium bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.
Heat the whole milk to just below a boil (you can do this on the stove or, more easily, in the microwave). Put the cocoa powder in a smallish bowl, pour the hot milk over it, and whisk until the cocoa is fully dissolved. Add the coconut milk and whisk to combine.
Put the butter, turbinado sugar, and granulated sugar in the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Beat on medium-high speed for 3 minutes, making sure to scrape down the sides of the bowl every minute. Add the eggs and beat on medium-high speed for 30 seconds. Add the ginger and vanilla and mix until combined. Add the ginger and vanilla and mix until combined.
Add 1/3 of the flour mixture and mix on low speed until just barely combined. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, then add 1/2 of the cocoa-milk mixture. Mix on low speed until barely combined. Repeat with the remaining flour and milk, ending with the flour.
Divide the batter between the two prepared pans. Bake until a toothpick comes out clean, 22-24 minutes. I use my nose to figure out when cakes are done in my oven, which happens to be old enough for its own AARP card.  You can use a cake broom tester or whatever works.
Place the pans on a wire rack to cool for 20 minutes, then invert the pans and let the cakes cool fully directly on the rack.
Make the ginger simple syrup
Put the granulated sugar, water, and ginger in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 5 minutes. Let the mixture cool completely, then pour it through a small sieve and discard the ginger pieces.
Make the green curry buttercream
Fill a medium saucepan with 2" of water and bring the water to a simmer. Put the egg whites and sugar in the bowl of a standing mixer. Place the bowl on top of the saucepan and whisk constantly until the sugar is fully dissolved, about 3 minutes. Transfer the bowl to the mixer and, using the whisk attachment, beat on high speed until the whites are glossy and hold stiff peaks and the bowl is cool to the touch, about 6 minutes.
Cut the butter into 1/2 tablespoon size pieces. With the mixer running, add the butter a few pieces at a time, making sure that the previous addition is fully incorporated before adding more butter. After you've added all of the butter, continue mixing on high speed until the frosting comes together. It's a moment of alchemy - it will look soupy and curdled after you add all the butter, but have faith (and patience) - it will come together.
Add the green curry paste and mix for 10 seconds on medium-high speed to evenly incorporate it.
Make the coconut milk peanuts
Coarsely chop the peanuts. Transfer the peanuts to a small bowl and heat them in the microwave for 1 minute, stopping halfway through to stir the peanuts. Add the coconut milk powder to the hot peanuts and stir well to combine.
Assemble the cake
If the tops of the cakes are domed, use a large serrated knife to level them.
Put a little dab of frosting on a cake round or serving plate and place one cake on it with the bottom facing up. Using a pastry brush, generously brush the ginger simple syrup over the top of the cake.
Spread the ganache on the cake in an even layer. Top with the remaining cake (again, the bottom side of the cake should be facing up). Brush the cake with the ginger simple syrup - you may not need all of it.
Spread the frosting on the top and sides of the cake. If you want to be meticulous, you can first spread on a crumb coat (a very thin layer of frosting on the entire cake), chill the cake for a half hour, then top it off with the remaining frosting. I rarely do this as I am too lazy to do so unless my cake is for someone else - sorry family, you don't get a crumb coat.
Sprinkle the peanuts on top of the cake.

Cut yourself a big slice and, as you chew on the first bite, marvel at how the green curry in the frosting makes complete sense with all the other flavors in the cake and ganache.

Rebel's Kitchen - the Food Truck Edition. The IndieGoGo Approach

Before...

Still before...

In an effort to bring Rebel's Kitchen out of the Farmer's Markets and Festivals of the DelMarVa, we've started a crowdfunding campaign with IndieGoGo.

Your contribution will help with the custom-build of the Rebel's Kitchen Bus.  It's a specially-fabricated rat rod by Morbid Rodz in Paris, Texas. The guys at Morbid Rodz recycle in the best possible way - they save old cars and trucks from a condemned future in an auto graveyard.  The rust revolution is a thing to behold.  Art in the form of vehicular beauty, rolling redolence and motorized magnificence.  To restore a car, is to breathe life into the faltering.  This is kinda what I do with hungry, sleepy people and my coffee and croissants.

We are brethren. Help out a Rebel?

IndieGoGo Link

Perhaps after?

Similarly after but less schoolish...

The lure of the macaron...she's a saucy wench, that one.

  

Salted Caramel, Blackberry, Red Cream Soda, Bacon Maple, Ketchup, Cookie Dough, Black Sesame Lemon and Pale Ale with a Corn Nut in the center!

Cupcakes, Macarons, the Cronut, Rustic Galettes, Eclairs...food fads are constantly evolving and offer a baker a constant challenge. And a reason to love/hate Dominique Ansel.  

I decided to teach myself to make Macarons a few years ago because someone told me it was too hard to do. That's really all it takes for me. Tell me I can't and I will. 

Hot Air Balloon Macarons for BalloonFest!

The first thing you should know is that a Macaron and a Macaroon are two very different things. They're not even distant cousins except for the fact that both are usually Gluten Free. A Macaroon, pronounced just as it's spelled, is a gummy pile of shredded coconut that leaves you chewing bits of coconut left in your mouth for a long time after you've eaten the cookie.  Sometimes, I refer to this as "coconut cuticle cud" but that grosses people out. 

Macarons, pronounced 'mack-uh-run', are wonderfully light cookies sporting meringue shells made of egg whites, almond flour and sugar. They are filled with anything and everything from buttercream to fruit curd to ice cream. They're usually sweet but if you have a friend or family member (say, a cousin, maybe) who is violently opposed to sweet desserts, you can make them savory. French Onion Macarons are wonderful but confusing if you expect this tan cookie with white filling to taste like salted vanilla caramel and, instead, get a vague chips-n-dip flavor. 

Soon-to-be Watermelon Macarons

There are a few different techniques in making Macarons - specifically French and Italian. The Italian method requires you to heat a sugar syrup to a very specific temperature and has almost no room for error.  If you're accident prone like me, the less you have to deal with hot sugar syrup, the better. So, I use the French method. This makes my doctor happiest.  

After several failures, I finally figured out the secret. I'll share my tips with you but there's a caveat.  They're not always going to work because the recipe and its success are largely based on your equipment, experience, ingredients, attention to detail and if you've broken a mirror recently.  Sorry, not sorry.

Sharknado macarons!

I adore the Not So Humble Pie blog and I follow one of her recipes pretty closely. Her French Macaron recipe uses these ingredients in these amounts.  Not So Humble Pie Blog

Not So Humble Macarons v3.0128
yields approximately 50 cookies
5g dehydrated egg white powder
28g granulated sugar
225g confectioners (powdered) sugar
125g almond meal
100g aged egg whites

To achieve success (if you're me, in my kitchen and using my equipment) read through my notes.  If you're not me, using my equipment and my kitchen, apply these notes to your own circumstances and get to baking.

Please remember when you're prying dried macaronage out of your hair and off of the ceiling that I warned you. 

So, here are my notes on the conception, gestation and birth of Macarons at home. This is gonna be long.  I'll wait while you grab an iced coffee and a comfy chair. 

Start by putting parchment on two half-sheet pans.  You can trace circles or eyeball it.  I'm too lazy for tracing and my eyeballs are crooked so I can't win.  I just offer "specially-sized" macs.  The word 'uniform' need not apply. You can use silicon mats if you prefer; I just happen to like parchment.  I don't have to wash as much.

REBEL NOTES: 

0. Always use a scale.  Always.

1. Start with almond flour.  Don't grind your own nuts or use almond meal.  Not at first anyway. Too much work and sometimes, too wet after grinding.  And you will say words you've never said before when sifting and then regrinding almond nuggets.

2. Sift your almond flour and powdered sugar together into one bowl and make sure you have NO CLUMPS or nuggets.

3.  Aged egg whites don't seem to matter much.  The purpose of aging is to make them less snot-textured. But you can do this by zapping them in the microwave for 10 seconds, twice, about a minute apart.

4. Whip the egg whites for a few minutes at medium.  Toss in the dried egg white and caster sugar mix, continue whipping until you get to firm glossy peaks but not a STIFF CLUMPED UP egg white ball on your whisk. 

5. If you're using food color, whip it in at the end.  A few good spins should blend it.  Go a little darker than you would since you've still got the dry stuff going in that will dilute the color.  Sometimes, a food dye will turn brown-tinged in the oven. It's not noticeable to most but if you're one of those people who never accidentally buys two left shoes or forgets a grocery bag at the check stand, maybe you should only buy heat-safe dyes.  

6.  If you really want to flavor the shells, you can add a little extract while blending the dry ingredients in.  The true flavor comes from the fillings because they leach into the shells so coloring the shells gives them an idea of flavor without actually messing up your wet/dry ratio.  Yay food psychology!

7. Dump the entire bowl of almond flour/confx sugar into your egg whites and slowly start folding them together. Some bakers say "fold exactly 28 times". That's kind of BS.  What if you've got Popeye arms? Or, inversely, Olive Oyl arms? Bad advice.  Fold slowly and deeply until the macaronage flops back onto itself in a wide thick ribbon and then slowly reabsorbs. Like pancake batter maybe? But thicker. You're looking for a wide ribbon that spools off your spatula back into itself, holds it's shape for few seconds and then melts back into the mix.  

At this point, you're ready for piping. Take a moment to put your head between your knees and breathe deeply to steady yourself.

8. Put your pastry bag and #10 tip into a tall, wide cup that will hold it. Cuff the top of the bag to add stability. Before you put the bag in the cup, twist the bag near the tip to close it off and keep the macaronage from running out as you fill. 

Big Dickey's Cup.
/snort.

9.  Remember that you'll be breaking down the mix as you pipe so try not to overbeat it or over handle the bag. Don't fill it all the way full if it's not large enough. You'll need to be able to fold the top down and get a good grip in order to pipe fast and accurately. You can refill if you need to. 

10.  Pipe your shells onto the parchment. I usually make 1.5" circles which are larger than most bakeries. I just like them bigger. I usually get 20 per half sheet. 

11. If your shells end up with little nipples, you didn't fold it quite long enough. No worries. Wet your finger and smash them down. This is extremely cathartic.  

These aren't nipples, they're blackberries.
No smashing, please.

11a.  Pick up the sheet and let it fall back to the counter from about six inches.  I tend to whack mine pretty hard. This pulls air bubbles to the top and which you can also smooth with a wet finger.  Do this four times, turning the sheet 90 degrees with each drop. 

Extra NOTE: If you're irritated with your spouse, there is no need to give warning before these loud, startling slams. More cookie catharsis.  Also, this will keep your dog far away from the kitchen.

12. Set oven to 300 degrees. I put a rack in the middle and a second rack just below it. On the middle rack, I put an inverted cookie sheet. I bake the macaron sheet resting on the inverted cookie sheet. It acts as a heat deflector. Also, I have an old, crappy electric oven.  You may find yourself in a better oven socio-economic setting. I'd still use a shield though. 

13.  After piping, you MUST LET THEM SIT. They need a skin. This usually takes about 30 minutes depending on the humidity and weather, your house temperature, etc.  If you can touch it and not get goo on your finger, the sheet is ready to go into the oven. 

14.  Bake for 20 minutes.  You can test doneness by poking an offset spatula under one and see if it comes up easily. Or use your fingers if you're quick or, like me, no longer have sensation in your fingertips.  

15.  If the shell pops up fairly easily, take the sheet out and put the next one in.  Let them dry/cool completely on the parchment before moving.  If you get curious and try to lift one up, you may end up disemboweling it and that's a really sad thing because no matter how fast you slam it back together, it does not heal from this evisceration and you must eat it while it's piping hot and tongue-burning.  This is your penance.  Now don't touch the others, dammit.

Chocolate Shells - Look ma!  Lots of feet!

16.  Once they're dry, pop them up and start matching them up with their like-sized siblings.  

17.  You can pipe anything into them.  Ganache, jam, jelly, curd, buttercream, toothpaste if it's April Fool's Day. Almost anything.  I don't recommend deviled ham, though.

18.  Let them set for 24 hours so the filling leaches into the shell.  This makes them chewy.  Serve at room temperature. 

19.  Note 18 is entirely voluntary and almost never heeded. 

20. If you do not get "feet" - the frilly little edge of the cookie - then you likely did not wait until they had a good skin. 

21.  If you get feet that are huge and the shell doesn't really rise up, you waited too long and the skin was too heavy and the tiny dear had to go out instead of up.

22.  If your shells are hollow after baking, you may have overbeaten the macaronage which can cause internal collapse. Or maybe you undercooked them. Both make you shamefully inhuman but you can recover. Fill them well and allow them to rest for 24 hours.  They gum up nicely and the filling will mostly hide your hollows.  You also have to pinky swear to do better next time. 

Want to see what Rebel's Kitchen looks like in bus formation?  Head on over to IndieGoGo and check it out.  Rebel's Kitchen Food Truck Fund

Peach and Blueberry

Black Sesame and Lemon Curd

Salted Caramel

August approaches and the tiny ship might be tossed...

...but we won't capsize.  I promise.

The Carroll Creek Farmer's Market is coming up in two weeks. I need to finalize the bake list, inventory ingredients, plan the prep and bake order and organize equipment. All for a three hour tour. You heard me. A three hour tour. I need to find my inner Skipper. I've already located my Mary Anne and I know where the Ginger is. Mr. & Mrs. Howell, if you're out there, call me. Let's talk.

The Carroll Creek Farmer's Market is scheduled for August 8th from 9am - 12pm on Carroll Creek in Downtown Frederick and I believe the theme is peaches The time has moved up a bit from the traditional 12-5 so it should be cooler for your morning perusing and my macarons will be definitely be happier.

Also, we'll be selling tote bags to help with our IndieGoGo campaign. So if you'd like one, just let me know.  Campaign link is here:  Rebel's Kitchen - The Food Truck Campaign

To know me is to know I love the challenge in new recipes or new ingredients or new processes. Or something that combines all three of those at once.

So take all of that and throw in my latest passion which happens to be Thai Iced Tea and combine gently with the August theme of peaches and what do you get?

I have an idea but I'm interested in what you might suggest so tell me in the comments!

The rest of the bake list includes the items listed below with the exception of the themed item you have to guess. As usual, all items on the list are subject to change once I realize I'm only one person, that the Ginger won't wash the same pan more than five times and Mom's won't sell me any more coconut oil because they're afraid I might need rehab.

Pretzel Croissants
Garlic, Sun Dried Tomato and Parm Pretzel Croissants
Macarons - Spumoni, Watermelon
Chocolate Espresso Brioche with Smoked Caramel
Avocado Bacon and Chive Scones
Whiskey Ginger Cherry Crisp - Gluten Free and Vegan
Pistachio Lemon Blondies
Grapefruit Sugar Cookies
Black Sesame, Soy Sauce Chocolate Chip Cookies
Funfetti Cupcakes layered with Apple Jacks Cereal Milk Buttercream
Tabbouleh Bread
Magic Bread - made with pureed celery. Now you're intrigued!  I'll double the batch.
Italian Loaf
Vanilla Peach Challah Bread

So, what am I missing?  What combines Thai Iced Tea and Peaches?  And whatever it is, wouldn't it taste better if we were actually in the lagoon?

Warp Speed, Mr. Sulu

So, uh, hey there. I guess it's been a minute since I was last here. We've had three market seasons, a Rebel-Ginger wedding and an elementary school career - all in the rearview mirror.

We've baked for weddings, parties, festivals, friends, families and co-workers. And now, here we we are. But where is that exactly?

Last year, the Ginger suggested that we make Rebel's Kitchen something more than a cottage business, something beyond my nomadic pile of sugar, flour and conversation. He said I should have my own place. I started to disagree but couldn't really come up with a good reason for why that wasn't a fine idea. So we set about doing some research, talking to some people, creating a plan that we innocently called Plan A. We were so pie-eyed, so cute, so eager.

Nearly a year later, we're still cute and eager but our eye pies have become less pie, more pie chart. Now that we're several plans down the contingency rabbit hole, we've soft-landed in Food Truckville.

But not just any food truck. It wouldn't fit with the Rebel hallmark to buy a taco truck from Craigslist or a BBQ Bus from Food Truck Nation Dot Com. Oh, no. That's just a little too store-brand vanilla extract for Rebel's Kitchen.  We go big or we stay up all night and go even bigger.

In my web wanderings, I landed on a business that creates custom vehicles from parts of old cars. They're kinda like a cross between Shelly's Dr. Frankenstein and the lovechild of Chip Foose and Jessie James. I scrolled through the pictures, paused to wipe the happy tears from my eyes, scrolled some more, paused to fan myself and then started forwarding links to the Ginger, fingers on fire, breath coming in short bursts.

As I suspected, he was into it. Mama didn't raise no dummy. This Rebel gearhead found a herself Ginger gearhead partner and we began to dream about and plan a Rebel's Kitchen on wheels.

So, what happens when you decide you want to combine a 1949 Chevy Cab over Engine (COE) truck with the back end of a 1934 Ford Schoolbus? Well, a lot. But before any of that lot happens, you have to find some dough - and not the kind I put into my oven. Would that it were that easy.

The Ginger and I talked about how we might drum up some cash. We rejected a few ideas pretty easily. Dance lessons - seems no one really wants to learn to moonwalk anymore. Knitting lessons - I can teach you to start but never, ever finish.  Ballet - yeah, no.  So we thought we'd just ask for your help.  And we started a crowdfunding campaign on IndieGoGo.

Rebel's Kitchen IndieGoGo link

And then, something happened that I didn't expect.  People started contributing money.  And now I'm worried about spending your money. To do awesome things, yes, but still.

So the plan continues, morphs, grows. I'm staying off-balance, on purpose and ready to handle whatever comes.

Thank you all from the bottom of my sugar bowl to the top of my sugar skull. Truly.

So how about we take the first star on the left, then straight on 'til morning. Sound good?

To Market, to Market, to Market, I will go...

The Farmer's Market season started last month. Though I've missed a few days, the season has been good to me so far. Despite every intention to be more efficient and less procrastinatory this year over last, it appears that when your genes are hard-coded to be a scatter-brained slacker, you really just have to roll with it.

However, I've finally learned that I can't try all new recipes each week; that I have to have a small collection of standards that I always make because people get used to them and want to buy them each week. This is a good thing, of course but it's hard because it's kind of boring. But I will endure.

I've also finally realized that not everyone loves strawberry and pink peppercorns Linzer cookies, oolong tea donuts or pandan macarons despite how much I insist "Oh my God, you will LOVE these!" Often, "you" don't and I will offer you a cinnamon roll, instead. Those are usually safe. Well, except for this Sunday. I think I'm going to stuff them with bacon and figs.

Last summer, I think I averaged about 17 different items each week topping out at 20 on one spectacularly productive weekend. This meant that I hit the kitchen Friday night, prepped for hours. Returned to the kitchen on Saturday morning and didn't leave until Sunday when I packed the car and headed to the Market. Like childbirth, it was painful, exhausting and I vowed to quit every Sunday morning.

And in keeping with the spirit of childbirth, I promptly forgot how awful it was once I hit the Market and started jawing with people. By the time I packed up the booth at 1pm, I found myself thinking about the following week's bake list and what secret, unusual ingredient I could foist on the unsuspecting Marketeer.

BUT, this year, I promised myself that I would bake less copiously, pace the prep to avoid the epic kitchen odysseys and I would focus on ways to make the entire process enjoyable. So far, no luck.

I just don't think I'm wired for self-preservation.

So come to The Frederick City Market on Sunday, 9am - 1pm. I'll be there with my bloodshot eyes, hastily made coffee and any combination of the following depending on how badly I budget my time this weekend:
Pretzel Croissants, ANZAC Biscuits, Soy Sauce Black Sesame Chocolate Chip Cookies, Grapefruit Sugar Cookies, Bacon Fig Cinnamon Rolls, Honey, Raspberry & Brie Sweet Pizza, Tabbouleh Bread, Nectarine Curd Tarts with a Brown Butter Oat Crust (GF), Vegan Carrot Cake, Vegan Coconut Blueberry Scones, Citrus Honey Yogurt Cakes(GF), Garlic Sun Dried Tomato Goat Cheese Spirals, something Maple-y and Lime Prickly Pear Cupcakes - Oh my God! You will LOVE them. I swear.

Wait, how many is that?

A Labor of Love?

Labor is one of those connotative words, a word that gives you an instant image, feeling or impression; think of a word like abort or arrest. Labor leads to birth. Labor leads to production. Labor is exhausting but rewarding. Ergo, my darling, my brownie.

Starting Rebel's Kitchen has been a labor of love and though not an actual human birth, it's been the birth of an idea, the nurturing of an intense interest in ethnic foods and ingredients and the graduation of a hobby into a business. And it's about making people happy. Truly.

Without a doubt, starting a business is self-serving. But when doing what you really enjoy benefits others directly (because you know how awesome that I'm-about-to-eat-the-best-croissant-of-my-life feeling is), it largely mitigates the hours spent in the kitchen that you don't factor into your budget, the curses your kid accidentally learns when your French Macarons don't get feet and the eyeroll from the cashier when you go back to the Market for the third time in a a single day because your organization skills have fallen victim to your 35th hour of consciousness.

Totally worth it.

Totally worth it when I have a 15 minute conversation with a visitor at the Market who wants to talk about the absurd possibilities of pumpkin or the appropriateness of cranberries outside of the fall holiday season.

Totally worth it when I see the same people, week after week, and I want to hug them, thank them for buying my things and then give them everything for free.

Totally worth it when I collapse after Market, sleep for three hours and then wake up, already thinking about next week's Bake List and how I can manipulate goat cheese into something that no one has ever heard of but can't resist.

Baking has managed to combat a significant character flaw that I have. I like to be challenged, I don't like routine and I like things to be new and different - all the time. The hardest yet most rewarding part of establishing a presence at the City Market this summer has been baking the same things each week. Fortunately and early on, I realized that you don't really build a customer base by changing your product each time they stop by. So, as hard as it is, I've baked several of the same things each week, week after week, month after month. And the surprising side effect is that I've gotten really good at making these things (bastard oven and bastard humidity, aside).

So you can expect Pretzel Croissants and Chocolate Brioche and French Macarons each week and I will adore you for being a regular customer who wants regular offerings. But humor me when I ask you to try an Asian Twinkie (a Black Sesame Madeleine with Lemon Curd Filling) or suggest that you buy a Pandan Fortune Cookie - if you don't like the flavor which is derived from pandan (screwpine) leaves, the John Water's fortune inside is still worth the purchase.

See you at the Market!