Cutie Cake Café
2Sep/100

Why the Vegan Baker Did So Well on Cupcake Wars

Chef Chloe's Vegan Raspberry Tiramisu Cupcakes

Against my initial aversion of most things reality-tv-related, I've gotten myself sucked in to watching Cupcake Wars whenever I happen to catch it on the Food Network. Even my boyfriend is enjoying watching it with me (I think it has something to do with him enjoying hearing me analyze what's going on - much like I enjoy hearing him analyze MMA fights). On a recent episode, the contestants consisted of: a young man, a girl with her sister as an assistant, a middle-aged woman, and a young vegan girl named Chloe. All of them had years of experience in their cupcake businesses, except for the vegan girl who had only been in business for 3.5 months! Of course, I just had to see how things would pan out.

Time and time again, specialty-diet bakers face skepticism when offering their goods to the general public. So naturally, I groaned with frustration, but was not surprised, when the judges announced that they were "worried" upon encountering Chloe's vegan cupcakes for the first time. But by the end of the second round she had completely won them over, and Chef Florian (the hard to please, French judge) had even said he'd become a vegan fan!

What is it that made Chloe and her cupcakes so successful, when others were struggling with some foolish mistakes (as I often see on Cupcake Wars)? Why was it that she excelled under pressure, while the others were flustered? Here are a few things that I think helped her achieve victory, coming from my own experience as a specialty-diet baker.

1. Specialty-diet bakers are accustomed to experimenting.

When I started out as a gluten-free baker, I had a LOT of missteps and ruined cookies. Even with gluten-free cookbooks and blogs so abundant now (they were not quite as easy to find even a few years ago), it takes time and practice to learn how to work with these ingredients and recipes. I have no doubt that it is a similar experience for vegan bakers, sugar-free bakers, etc.

We spend a lot of time testing recipes, adding a bit more of this or that, trying a different liquid, realizing the dough is too dry, making sure the batter isn't too runny, and on and on. Now, I understand that "regular" bakers go through similar things, but unless you have delved into any kind of restricted-ingredient baking, you don't know what kind of additional challenges are faced.

Because of all of these experiences, it is my opinion that specialty-diet bakers can become a lot more in-tune with our ingredients, our recipes, and our methods, than some other bakers out there. For example, I was somewhat appalled as one of Chloe's competitors added too much Grand Marnier to her batter and it was so watery that she had to try to fix it by adding a bunch of sugar. Are people not taught baker percentage anymore? Perhaps it was just the time constraints that led the woman to make this mistake, but I didn't see any others having that problem.

Chef Chloe

2. Specialty-diet bakers know what works and what doesn't.

Due to years of experimenting, I've gotten a pretty good feel for what will work in my recipes. I know that adding coffee to my chocolate cookie dough gives it a very different texture when baked. I know that refrigerating my peanut butter cookie dough before shaping and baking leads to a smaller, more compact cookie than if the dough is at room temperature. I know that hand mixing certain things is the only way to go, and using my kitchenaid is necessary for others. I know that attempting a traditional shortbread cookie recipe will result in cookies so dry and fragile that they will fall apart if you even look at the wrong.

It is because of all the extra time we spend perfecting our recipes, that specialty-diet bakers know how many things can go wrong. In a competitive setting, it is best to go with things you know will work, things you've tried and are comfortable with, things that you know will not fail you, things that you know you will have enough time to complete. One thing I've noticed a lot of in Cupcake Wars is that people sometimes forget they're not superhumans. They want to create elaborate fondant decorations for cupcakes, forgetting that they'll have to spend a significant portion of time making one thousand of them for the final round. Know your limits!

3. Specialty-diet bakers often use high-quality, whole ingredients in their baking.

One of Chloe's competitors kept throwing bitter criticism at her, saying that vegan baking included "fake stuff" for ingredients. I'll admit that I don't know much about vegan baking, but I do know a little. I also realize that I do not know the ingredients in Chloe's recipes, so perhaps I am incorrect in surmising that she does not use a bunch of "fake" ingredients. All I know is that those of us with restrictive diets, are very conscious of what we put into our bodies. We, more than anyone, are concerned about the amount of chemicals and other questionable ingredients listed on nutritional information panels.

To assume that vegans are using "fake" ingredients is to display your ignorance of their methods. Did you know that flaxseed can be a great substitute for eggs? Did you know that vegetable oils, fruit juices, applesauce, and other things can be used in place of butter and milk? When the only thing you have to criticize about your competition is their alleged "fake" ingredients, and not their time management, presentation, or technique (by the way, did you notice that Chloe and her assistant were mixing all their batters by hand? Adorable!), it just goes to show how much they intimidate you.

And if one gauges the rest of her recipes based on her Chocolate Strawberry Shortcake recipe that she shared on the Food Network, I think it's safe to say she's not using anything "fake".

Chloe's Vegan Chocolate Strawberry Shortcake Cupcakes

Chloe's Vegan Chocolate Strawberry Shortcake Cupcakes

4. Specialty-diet bakers know that they must create exceptional goods, or nobody will eat them unless there is no other choice.

You know, it's an unfortunate thing, but I think that people are justified is approaching specialty-diet foods with caution. When I first went on a gluten-free diet, I spent months searching for a GF food that didn't taste like sand or cardboard. The first tasty gluten-free food I had was made by my own hands. It's what inspired me to pursue gluten-free baking on a larger scale, and to share these goods with others.  Why should Celiacs have to resort to boring, dry cookies when we want something sweet? Why should we pine away at those gorgeous, delicious-looking cookies at Whole Foods, and then solemnly nibble on our gluten-free "treats"?

I'll admit that over the years, some truly awesome gluten-free products have become available in stores. Glutino makes some of the BEST wafer cookies I have ever tasted. But I digress, slightly. The point here is that we already know how hard it is to find food we can eat that tastes good. We wouldn't go through all the trouble of making, and marketing, our goods unless we knew that they were delicious enough to keep people coming back for more. Can anyone honestly think that a vegan baker would enter a televised cupcake competition unless she was extremely confident in the quality of her goods? I can assure you that I will not share anything I bake with anyone unless I am proud of what I am feeding them, and unless I want to eat them too!

In Conclusion

I must have started writing this blog entry about 8 different times, and each time it seemed too lengthy and not explanatory enough. Though this did turn out rather long-winded, I think I finally got the points across that I was aiming to convey. I hate to use idioms, but I have to suggest that you "don't knock it till you've tried it" when it comes to specialty-diet foods. Keep in mind that the person who made it knows a lot more about it than you do, and be prepared for the idea that you may just like it better than the "normal" version. ;)

25Aug/100

What’s Up With Wooden Spoons?

Image by Piotr Zurek, found on Flickr.

Whenever I read a recipe in which the instructions specify that I stir something with a wooden spoon, my mind instantly goes back to when I was a little girl, helping my mom cook and bake in the kitchen. (Of course, this also reminds me of how she would threaten to spank us with that wooden spoon if we were being little jerks, but that's another story for another day.) I can still see her wooden spoons clearly in my mind's eye. That golden color, the edges browned from heat, the way the wood cracked and split and food sunk in and stained the spoon, the hint of scents from previously-stirred foods...

To be quite honest with you, friends, I am rather grossed out by the idea of using a wooden spoon at all. In my adult life, I have not even considered buying or using a wooden spoon. I honestly don't see the point. They seem like germ-attractors, and the way they scrape against pots and things kind of makes my skin crawl (like nails on a chalkboard). I even read a story on a gluten-free blog once, where the writer got "glutened" by some soup her friend made for her. The friend took extra care to make everything gluten-free, but that sneaky, sticky protein snuck into the soup by means of the wooden spoon she used to stir the soup - the same spoon she used for her regular cooking.

Aren't there better things one can use instead of a wooden spoon? I've gotten by just fine without these utensils, so I'm wondering why anyone likes to use them. All this ruminating has led me to research the benefits and drawbacks of using wooden spoons, along with alternatives.

21Jul/101

What Comes to Mind When You Think of French Cooking?

This morning as I was making my way through a hotel lobby lined with a lovely array of breakfast buffet items, I began contemplating French toast. I thought to myself, why is French toast any different than regular toast? The answer was so obvious and so immediate that I don't know why it didn't slap me in the face before: eggs.

Now, let me be clear: I was not ignorant of the fact that French toast is made with eggs. That's been a generally accepted fact of life ever since I first tasted French toast. Perhaps it was because this information was such common knowledge to me, that I didn't really care what that meant. French toast is French, not because it is different than other types of toast, and not because it is any better than other types of toast, but because it is made with eggs.

Before attending a French culinary school, I was painfully unaware of the techniques and ingredients used in a lot of the traditional gourmet cuisine. At first it was kind of a joke, an observation, that I voiced in the school cafe during a dinner (where all the students present what they cooked that evening). "Wow, there's, like, eggs in everything..." But it wasn't very long into my first semester when I was basically punched in the gut with the knowledge that I had better become very comfortable with eggs if I wanted to succeed in (and enjoy) my pastry courses.

A large quantity of what I was taught to make in those classes involved a substantial amount of eggs, egg whites, egg yolks, or egg wash (and every chef has his own "correct" method for making egg wash, folks, don't screw it up). In fact, if there had somehow been a shortage of eggs at the school, our classes might have been ruined if not for the chocolatier practice! Various forms of sponge cakes and biscuits, custards, creams, meringues, mousses, macarons, breads, crepes, waffles (yes, the waffles tasted pretty much like waffle-shaped eggs!), royal icing, buttercreams - oh, the list goes on and on, and the list calls for a LOT of eggs. Even cookies required just yolks or just whites.

I tell you, folks, by the end of my education there, I could crack and separate eggs in my sleep (and there were debates about whether to crack your eggs on a flat table surface or on the edge of a bowl, too). I got to the point where I didn't really want to taste a lot of the things we made because, well, eggs. Maybe that's why I enjoyed the chocolate, candy-making, and sculpture portions of class so much -- no eggs (well, except for one technique in our sugar sculpture lessons, and the royal icing, hah!).

Okay, sure, that's just the pastry side of things! While it is true that I didn't attend the cuisine courses, I did get a chance to see and sample just about everything the cuisine classes cooked -- multiple times. The eggs were there, too; sneering at me with the hauty air of eggy superiority. Luckily people didn't have to make fun of my egg aversion at the dinner presentations, too. Most of the time I declined the food because it was already quite cold by the time we were actually able to start eating it. (Nothing more appetizing than cold eggs, am I right?)

This whole experience taught me two very clear lessons (well more than two, but I'm only listing two here for relevance): one, traditional French cooking and baking relies heavily upon eggs; and two, I am not very fond of eating eggs.

Bon appetit!

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