Brazilian Carrot Cake With Chocolate Frosting

The popularity of this cake has spread the recipe to other parts of the world well beyond Brazil. My friend in Brazil, Gustavo, also known by his "secret name," "G," which is now NOT so secret, made me aware of this cake a few months ago, and I later came across recipes for it from places like Australia and Indonesia. Usually served along with a cup of coffee in Brazil, but hey, you can always have a glass of milk! 

Ingredients (1 single layer cake):

For the cake:
3 medium carrots, peeled and cut into pieces
3 eggs
3/4 cup vegetable oil
1 3/4 cups all purpose flour + 1 tablespoon baking powder, sifted together
1 1/4 cups sugar

For the frosting:
1 cup cocoa powder
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup milk
4 tablespoons butter

Heat the oven to 350 F. Meanwhile, add the carrot pieces, eggs, oil and sugar to a food processor or a blender. Process until smooth. In a bowl, add the sifted flour, baking powder and sugar; mix the dry ingredients briefly with a spoon or a fork. Add the carrot mixture to the dry ingredients and mix well until smooth. Lightly oil/grease a cake pan, then lightly dust it with some flour. Pour the batter into the pan and bake in the preheated oven until a knife or a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Spread the frosting in a layer onto the top of the cake, or use a knife to go around the outside of the cake in the baking pan and then turn the cake out onto a dish, then take the dish you plan to use for the cake and turn the cake onto it, then add the frosting. One more thing... EAT! Frosting: To a heavy-bottomed pan add the sugar, cocoa powder, milk and butter. Over low heat, cook the mixture, stirring often (almost constantly, as these are ingredients that love to stick to the pan) until it comes to a boil for about a minute or so, then remove the pan from the heat.

WORD HISTORY:
Tenure-This word is related to a great number of words, including, "tenacity" and "tension," words of Latin derivation borrowed by English through French, and to "tendon," a word borrowed by English from Latin, which had gotten it from Greek, and to the "tain" part of both "sustain" and "abstain," words of Latin derivation borrowed by English via French. "Tenure" goes back to Indo European "ten," which had the notion "to stretch, to extend out, to draw out." This gave Latin "tenere," meaning "to hold, to have;" thus also, "to have control over, to keep in possession, to maintain a situation or status." This then became "tenire" in Vulgar Latin and passed into Latin-based Old French as "tenir," with the same general meanings, and then produced the Old French noun "tenure," meaning, "the legal possession or holding of land;" thus, "an estate in the time of feudalism," which also expanded secondarily to "legal holding, right of possession in a more general sense." English borrowed the word in the first part of the 1400s from the French still spoken in England at the time (Anglo-French, that had developed from the Norman dialect), and its application to "holding an employment position, or holding a particular status within a profession" was being used by the late 1500s. This later developed into the extended, "guarantee of employment status/position."     

Creamy Brazilian Cornmeal Cake: Bolo de Fubá

Brazil is the largest Portuguese speaking country or region in the world. The basic recipe for this cake was given to me by my friend Gustavo of Brazil, whom you can just call "G." Over the years I have helped him with his language, which has left him as one of the few people to speak "Klingon." The problem is, I was helping him with English! Hahahaha  The Brazilian name for the cake is "Bolo de Fubá," in Portuguese, and it is common throughout Brazil, although with many recipe variations, some of which do not include cheese. Those without cheese are very much like American cornbread, although the Brazilian form tends to have more liquid and more sweetener (some use sweetened condensed milk). I read some articles about the cake, including one from a Brazilian cookbook I have, and most note that this cake is often served at breakfast or later in the day, on both occasions with a cup or two of coffee. I also found different pans/dishes used for the cake, and I chose a round pie/cake dish (10 inches x 2 inches), and G uses a round cake pan (Hm, I wonder what 'cake pan' is in Klingon?). I used Pecorino Romano cheese, although Parmesan cheese is traditional. G used a blender/food processor to mix his cake batter, but I just used a hand mixer. The thing is, the batter will be runny, but that is okay; it's supposed to be that way. When poured into the baking pan and put into the oven, the milk and the melting cheese will form a layer of creaminess on the cake (see top 2 photos, below). You do need to keep track of the time or set a timer for this cake, as you can't insert a toothpick to see if it's done, because of the creamy layer. Preheat the oven to 350 F and bake the cake for about 50 to 55 minutes. Since this was the first time I made this cake, I baked it 55 minutes, although slightly less would likely have been fine. The top should be nice and golden brown (see photos, below). I would have just put G's recipe here, but I figured none of you know Klingon. Hahaha  Actually, his English is very good, no thanks to me! But if anybody wants to pretend to learn English while actually learning Klingon, I'm your guy! 

Ingredients:
3 eggs
1/4 cup butter
2 1/2 cups of milk
1 1/2 cups of sugar
1 cup of yellow cornmeal
3 tablespoons flour
3/4 cup grated Parmesan or Romano cheese (I LOVE Pecorino Romano)
1 1/2 tablespoon baking powder

In a blender or a bowl, add all the ingredients (except the baking powder). Mix in the blender or use a hand mixer to mix the ingredients together very well. Add the baking powder and mix it in with a spoon. The batter will have a pretty liquid consistency. Preheat your oven to 350 F and let your cake bake for 45 to 50 minutes or until the cake has a "golden" surface. Let the cake cool down about 30 minutes before slicing.

WORD HISTORY:
Jaguar-This word for "a large cat of prey of the Americas, especially in parts of South America." It goes back to Tupi, also called Tupian, a language family of some of the indigenous peoples of South America, particularly in Brazil. The early 1500s saw the Portuguese colonize Brazil and they took the transliterated Tupi word "yaguara/jaguara," which seemingly meant "a large meat eating animal," and therefore also used for the big cat, which was rendered as "jaguar" in Portuguese (also as yaguareté and jaguareté). English borrowed the word from Portuguese as "jaguar" around 1600. It was used as the name for a British automotive company and their line of luxury and sports cars beginning in 1935, later often shortened by the public to the trendy sounding "Jag."    

Plum Cake: Quetschekuchen

There are all sorts of names for plum cake in German: Pflaumenkuchen is more common in northern Germany, while in Bavaria and Austria it is Zwetschgendatschi/Zwetschkendatschi, " but in Hessen and part of the Rheinland "Quetschekuche(n)" is the name, and in some other areas the word used is "Zwetschgenkuchen," and in Switzerland it is "Zwetschenwähe."  

Some Germans make plum cake with baking powder, some make it with yeast, and I've actually read where some use only eggs to provide some lift. German regions in Europe tend to use Italian plums or damson plums, both of which are "egg shaped," but I'm sure Germans won't hang you out to dry if you use other varieties of plums. "Hey, was machen Sie? Sie brauchen noch ein paar Wäscheklammern mehr!" (Hey, what are you doing? You still need a few more clothes pins!) Further, many Germans add "streusel" on top of the plum cake before baking.* Also, some use a round baking pan or dish for plum cake, while others use a rectangular baking sheet (German: Backblech, or just Blech). Plum cake is often served with whipped cream or powdered sugar on top.

I had "Quetschekuchen" many years ago in Frankfurt, Germany, and I'll tell you about it, once I get these damned clothes pins off of me! Anyway, the bakery and pastry shops (called a "Bäckerei und Konditorei," in German) in Frankfurt just wouldn't leave me alone. All of the great window displays kept beckoning to me, "Randy.... look over here!" It was all too much and I bought a "Quetschekuche" (in Frankfurt they usually do not include the ending "n" in "Kuchen") and it was delicious.     

Ingredients:

8 to 10 plums (I use black plums)
3 1/2 cups flour
3/4 cup lukewarm milk, just lukewarm, not hot (more, if needed, later)
1/2 cup sugar + 2 tablespoons (divided use)
2 eggs, lightly beaten
5 tablespoons butter, melted + 2 tablespoons vegetable oil added to the melted butter
1/2 teaspoon vanilla 
1 teaspoon salt (if you use salted butter, skip this, or use just a pinch)
1 packet of active dry yeast
2/3 teaspoon cinnamon

Wash the plums, then quarter them, but leave the peel on. Put the plum quarters into a bowl and mix in the 2 tablespoons of sugar, set the plums aside. In another bowl, add 2 cups of flour, yeast, salt (if using), and the lukewarm milk. Mix together to form a sticky dough. Cover lightly, put in a warm place and let the dough rise for 30 to 45 minutes. Add the 1/2 cup sugar, 2 eggs, vanilla and the butter, working these ingredients into the dough as you gradually add the remaining flour. If the dough is too dry, add some milk (doesn't have to be warm), but just a tablespoon at a time, but it's okay if the dough is still somewhat sticky. Let the dough rest and rise a little again for just 10 to 15 minutes. Meanwhile, line a baking sheet with parchment paper. I used a baking sheet of 17 inches by 11 inches, but you can use a little larger sheet and spread the dough thinner. I keep the dough sticky and put it in the middle of the baking sheet and then press and smooth it out by hand and with a spatula. Press each quarter plum into the dough in rows. Pour any juice that has accumulated in the bowl over the plums and sprinkle the cinnamon over the top. If you want to use more plums, you can make the plum cake sort of look like roofing tiles by overlapping the plum quarters. Bake at 350 F until the visible parts of the cake are a bit browned. I baked the one I made for this article for about 40 to 45 minutes, but the baking time will naturally vary by the thickness of the dough.
 
* "Streusel" (actually pronounced like, "stroy-zel") is a common crumbly topping used by Germans for many cakes and pastries. There are some variations, but the basic recipe is sugar (sometimes brown sugar), flour, butter and a spice or two, often including cinnamon. By the way, the word "Streusel" (all nouns in German are capitalized) is closely related to English "strew," as it is "strewn"on top of cakes, and it was formed from the verb "streuen," meaning, "to strew, to scatter (about)." The ending "el" is a diminutive, meaning it "makes it smaller," so the literal meaning of the German noun "Streusel" seems to be, "a little something strewn on top of a cake." German immigrants brought "Streusel" to the U.S. 

A piece of "Quetschekuchen" without whipped cream, then two slightly different views with Quetschekuchen topped with whipped cream and served with a cup of coffee

WORD HISTORY:
Dodder-This is a tough word to research, but there are relatives in the Germanic languages, with other relatives in Indo European. It is distantly related to "dust" and to "dizzy," words from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "dheu," which had the notion of "smoke, haze, dust," and then "dheus," which meant, "whirl, twirl;" thus also, "twist around;" thus also the figurative, "confused, hazy in the mind, dizzy;" thus also, "to shake, to tremble." An unknown form was passed to Old Germanic, which was continued only in the West Germanic branch, and which gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) the verb "dyderian," meaning "to delude, to confuse," and also the noun, "dydrin," meaning "egg yolk" (apparently, because yolks "shake, quiver"). Then "dad(d)eren" developed, meaning, "to shake, to shake causing the teeth to hit together." This then became "dadder," then "dodder." In the Germanic languages, German still has "Dotter" (egg yolk, or yolks, as the same form is singular and plural), Low German Saxon has "Dodder" (yolk), Dutch has "dooier" (earlier "doder"), West Frisian "djerreblom" (Marigold, the flower, seemingly from the flowers looking like egg yolks?). One of the problems with the history of "dodder" is, its ancestors had a wide range of figurative meanings, including, from the notion of "whirl," "whisk, mix together;" thus also, "murky;" that is, "something mixed together and, thus, unclear or impure."

Latvian Alexander Cake

Latvia is one of the Baltic States. Latvian, the language, is from the Baltic branch of the Balto-Slavic branch of the Indo European languages. Its cousin, Lithuanian, resides next door, but the other relatives of these two languages have died out, including Prussian. *

Popular recipes can be shrouded in legend, and so it may be with this cake, which is a type of shortcake, with variations in the overall recipe, although the basic premise is the same: a kind of shortcake made in two layers with some fruit preserves or jam in between the layers. The cake is cut into squares, or other shapes for serving. I read many articles about this cake, and most mention it being made originally for Tsar Alexander upon a visit he made to Latvia, which was long part of the Russian Empire. The thing is, there were THREE Tsar Alexanders in Russian history, but only one history mentioned the cake being made for Tsar Alexander I, who ruled from 1801 until 1825, while another article mentioned the cake was made in honor of Tsar Alexander III, who ruled from 1881 to 1894. The cake's popularity spread throughout northeastern Europe, with versions in Finland, Sweden, Estonia, Lithuania and northeastern Germany (then known as the German state of Prussia). 

Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder 
2 sticks of butter
1 tablespoon vanilla
3 tablespoons sour cream 
1/2 teaspoon salt ONLY if you use unsalted butter
1/2 cup raspberry preserves (seedless is fine)
1 1/4 cups powdered sugar (confectioner's sugar)
2 teaspoons grated lemon peel
2 tablespoons + 1 teaspoon lemon juice

Beat the sugar and butter together with a mixer. Add and mix in the vanilla, salt (if using), sour cream and baking powder. Gradually mix in the flour to form the dough. Gather dough into a ball, cover  and let sit in refrigerator for about 30 to 45 minutes. Heat oven to 325 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Divide the dough in two. Press one half the dough into a thin square layer on one part of the baking sheet; then repeat with the other half of the dough, making sure the two squares are close to the same size. Bake for 20 to minutes, or until just barely browning on top. Remove from the oven and let cool. Make sure the two parts are not stuck to the parchment paper. While the cake is cooling, in a bowl, mix together the lemon juice, the grated lemon peel and the confectioner's sugar until smooth; set aside. Smear a layer of the raspberry preserves onto one half of the cake, leaving just a small margin around the edge. Use a large spatula to carefully lift the other half of the cake onto the top of the first (the top of the second layer will now by the top of the cake). Press down gently just to the point where the raspberry preserves come to the edge of the cake (that's why you need to leave that margin I mentioned above). Spread the icing over the top of the cake. Carefully cut the cake into squares for serving.  

* "Prussian" is a term that came to be associated with Germans living in the territory of "Prussia," in northeastern Europe. That territory had been occupied by Baltic language speaking Prussians, who were gradually absorbed into the German population which settled there. The confusing thing was, the name "Prussia" not only remained as the name of the region, but it became famous as a German province and state, which became the entity ruled by the Hohenzollern German noble family. 

WORD HISTORY:
Scribe-This word, related to "scribble," goes back to the Indo European root "sker," which had the notion "to cut, to scrape." This gave Latin "scribere," which meant "to scratch, to carve, to write," which then produced the noun "scriba," which meant "writer of religious or official documents." This was borrowed by English from Latin in the 1300s.^ The verb form, "(to) scribe" (to write), has the same basic history, but the word itself tends to be used more in various compounds like, "describe," "inscribe," "prescribe." Modern German still uses "schreiben" as its verb form for "to write," Low German uses "schrieven," Dutch uses "schrijven" and West Frisian uses "skriuve."

^ Old English had "scrifan" from the same Latin source, but it was often used in the religious context of "hear confession, impose penance;" and it has evolved into modern English as "shrive;" thus, while its very initial meaning likely was "to write," that meaning died out having been overtaken by the religious meaning above, and by English use of it own Germanic word that is "write" in modern times.