Lemon-Poppy Pound Cake

Posted on June 30, 2013 by Ryo

The only thing I knew about poppy seeds was that eating too many of them can make you test positive for opiates. Despite the lack of drug tests in my life, that caused me to steer clear of eating anything with poppy seeds in it. Why eat poppy when I can eat other seeds like sesame?

But there must be a reason that people put poppy seeds into pastry, I thought. So I decided to make a lemon-poppy pound cake from Joanne Chang’s Flour cookbook, since the pictures looked delicious.

How on earth would one think to pour poppy seeds into a pound cake batter, though? Hmm…

“Must love dogs,” started the ad that Jennifer put in the newspaper. She knew it was cheesy and completely desperate to put an ad in a newspaper, but she figured she had nothing to lose but the cost of listing the ad. She was tired of coming home to an empty apartment, sipping her wine alone while she watched a sad movie on the couch with nobody to cuddle with. Here she was, an intelligent, attractive, successful woman, still single despite many attempts to become otherwise.

After she submitted it, though, panic started to creep in. Did she seem too desperate? Did she come across as too elitist? Jennifer’s friends always said she was too choosy. Beggars can’t be choosers. But she was too young to be a beggar, right? Scanning over her ad again, she thought maybe her list was a bit too long.

Must love dogs. Also: must be non-smoker, intelligent, ambitious. Would prefer someone who can cook and enjoys reading. Also pluses: owns a dog, owns a home, athletic.

What are the chances that this smart, literary, dog-owning, athletic homeowner would respond to her ad? No way a man that perfect wouldn’t already be taken. But maybe she could pick up some hot young thing on the rebound. Her mouth watered slightly at the thought.

When Jennifer’s phone rang the next day, she did not recognize the number. Was it some telemarketer? The pharmacy calling her that her prescription was ready? She was in a hopeful mood, so she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hello? Is this Jennifer, from the newspaper?” a male voice she didn’t recognize asked. Her heart skipped a beat. Was she really getting a response to her ad?

“Yes, this is Jennifer. Who’s this?”

“My name is Mike. I was really impressed by how direct you were in your ad. I think I do meet all of your criteria, and I would love to meet you in person. What do you say?”

Jennifer was flustered. Within a minute of first talking to him, he had already asked her out on a date. But his voice seemed so kind, so genuine.

Apparently, Mike could sense the hesitation from Jennifer. “We could meet in a coffee place or something during the day? A nice public place, anywhere you want.”

She was feeling better already. A public place, a feeling of security. She set a date for the next day, in the afternoon.

Jennifer put on a teal dress, slightly dressy but not enough to make it seem like she was trying too hard. She took a seat near the window, where just the right number of rays of sunshine danced onto the table. The small black coffee she got sat in front of her, awaiting the cream and sugar she was going to pour in. Just as she poured a trickle of cream into the black pit of liquid, a handsome man showed up at her table.

“Jennifer?” asked the man, standing as tall as his voice made him seem on the phone.

“Yes,” she said shyly, as she motioned for him to sit down across from her. She noticed he was wearing a nice shirt that showed a hint of the muscled chest underneath. And those eyes, they could light up a giant ballroom on the Titanic.

Conversation flowed like water from a broken dam. Three cups of coffee later, they were practically finishing each other’s sentences. Without even thinking about it, Jennifer invited Mike to her apartment nearby. She was such a good girl. And now, here she was, inviting this stranger up to her apartment after half a liter of coffee and a couple of hours of exchanging life stories.

Her apartment was immaculate, her kitchen as beautiful as a model kitchen in a magazine. She had earlier set some butter on the counter to soften, as she wanted to make a pound cake later that night. As soon as the door to her apartment closed behind her, though, all thoughts of the butter disappeared, and they leapt at each other like feral cats fighting over a scrap of fatty tuna.

Mike quickly slid Jennifer’s shoulder straps off to the sides, and her dress came off like a wrapper off a candy bar. This is it, she thought. Good Jennifer is gone, hedonistic Jennifer is here to stay.

With that thought, she reached over to Mike’s shirt and ripped open the buttons, revealing a nicely chiseled chest. She ran her hands over it as if it were a kitchen counter, and then quickly tore off his shirt. She lunged for his belt buckle, deftly unbuckling it in one motion, and whipped it out of the belt loops like a child spinning a top. His jeans fell off immediately, revealing his boxers with a large tent underneath.

He quickly returned the favor, undoing Jennifer’s bra with one hand, as he had done dozens of times before. Her panties slid off, slightly damp from the moisture developing. His fingers plunged into her vagina with an urgency like he had lost something in there. She moaned, his fingers reaching corners of her vagina that had not been touched in quite some time.

There was only one barrier between their genitals, his boxers, and Jennifer eagerly removed them, revealing a throbbing erection that she desperately wanted inside of her. Right as she plunged her tongue straight into his mouth, she also plunged his penis deep inside of her, causing them both to moan involuntarily and simultaneously. She thrust her hips up and down, feeling the warmth of his member inside of her.

The pace of their thrusting quickened, as did their heartbeats. Sweat dripped from both of their bodies, the moaning creating a gradual crescendo. The time had come for both of them. He let loose a torrent of semen into her vagina, just as she started convulsing from her own orgasm. As she threw her head back in utmost delight, the room got hazy, and Jennifer’s eyes focused on a small bag of poppy seeds on the edge of the counter. The waves of pleasure overcame her, and she was drowning in a sea of orgasmic ecstasy. They collapsed onto the floor, chests heaving up and down.

Jennifer and Mike sat awkwardly on the floor, naked and silent. Now that they had explored each other’s bodies, it was as if they had nothing left to say to each other. To break the silence, Mike suddenly mentioned that he had an appointment, and he put his clothes back on and hurried toward the door. They awkwardly kissed before parting ways, knowing that the passion they just shared was the most they would ever have with each other.

She turned back to her kitchen, and she couldn’t get the poppy seeds that caught her eye while climaxing out of her mind. She had to do something with those. But what? The pound cake! She decided she would mix the poppy seeds into the pound cake batter. A generous helping of them, so that the final cake would be speckled with poppy seeds throughout.

The pound cake came out beautifully, the nutty poppy seeds visible in every bite. She thought back to her encounter with Mike again, longing wistfully for the heights of pleasure she was able to achieve with that man. Now, all she had to remember him was this pound cake that was inspired by their hot encounter.

Well, maybe it wasn’t quite that exciting. But here’s the recipe.

IMG_5271

Lemon-Poppy Pound Cake
from Flour

2 cups cake flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspooon salt
1/2 cup plus 3 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled
1/4 cup heavy cream
3 tablespoons lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
3 tablespoons poppy seeds
4 eggs
1 1/4 cups sugar

Lemon Glaze
1/2 cup confectioners’ sugar
1~2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

  1. Preheat oven to 350F.
  2. Butter and flour a 9×5-inch loaf pan.
  3. Sift together the cake flour, baking powder, and salt, and set aside.
  4. Whisk the melted butter, heavy cream, lemon zest, lemon juice, and poppy seeds together in a bowl until it becomes a thick liquid.
  5. Beat the eggs and sugar together until light and fluffy.
  6. Fold the flour mixture into the egg mixture with a rubber spatula until just combined.
  7. Fold a quarter of the egg and flour mixture into the butter and cream mixture.
  8. Fold in the remainder of the egg and flour mixture into the butter and cream mixture until combined.
  9. Pour the batter into the loaf pan.
  10. Bake for 60~70 minutes, or until the pound cake is golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean.
  11. Let cool in the pan for at least 30 minutes.
  12. Make the glaze by whisking the confectioners’ sugar with enough lemon juice to make a smooth glaze.
  13. After the cake has cooled, spread the glaze over the top.

IMG_5263

The eggs and sugar, beaten until thick. I think the recipe actually called for beating it some more, but I got impatient.

IMG_5264

And then with everything else, including the lemon juice and poppy seeds that give this pound cake its name.

IMG_5265

And then the batter goes into the loaf pan.

IMG_5266

After 60 minutes. It looks kind of burnt, even though I stayed on the lower end of the range given in the recipe.

IMG_5267

Thankfully, I was able to remove it from the pan without it falling apart.

IMG_5268

The lemon glaze.

IMG_5269

The glaze poured on top of the pound cake.

IMG_5271

The cake did not rise that much, and it was a bit dry. I probably overbaked it a bit, and it didn’t help that I used whole milk instead of heavy cream. Next time, I’ll actually follow the recipe and check on it earlier.

The flavors in the cake were good, but my execution was flawed. But poppy seeds are actually good!

Posted in Baking, Fiction | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

When More Costs More

Posted on May 31, 2013 by Ryo

I have apparently gone down to one post a month. And I barely made it this month. And it’s not even a baking recipe with a story, just a random math thing I noticed at Starbucks…

I was at my local Starbucks (they’ve gotten me hooked because of their stupid rewards card program), and I felt like having an iced tea. So I looked up at the menu, and I saw that a tall (12 ounces) was $1.50, a grande (16 ounces) was $2.15, and a venti (24 ounces) was $2.65. I was about to order a grande, when I realized that something is very wrong here. If you look at the tall, it’s $0.50 for 4 ounces, or $1 for 8 ounces. So you would think a grande would cost less than $2. But that is clearly not the case. And so, being the Asian that I am, I went for the tall, since I didn’t feel like my bladder could withstand the volume of a venti. And I sat there, reading my book, basking in the satisfaction that I paid less per ounce than those suckers who got grande iced teas.

But you know, you would think that they would have scrutinized something as important as price at this Starbucks. They should really be pushing people to buy the bigger sizes. The additional cost of ingredients for a larger drink over a smaller one is negligible compared to the additional money they charge, and the amount of labor is the same. So it’s far more efficient to sell a bunch of large drinks than small ones, assuming your resources for drinks are basically limitless (which they should be if your Starbucks is well-stocked). So their pricing is completely baffling.

I had half a mind to point this out to the people there, in the hopes that they would make the grande iced tea cheaper. But then paranoia crept in, and I worried that they might raise the price of a tall to drive people toward the grande. And that paranoia, coupled with my fear of confrontation, kept my mouth shut.

Posted in Money | Tagged | Leave a comment

Blackberry Financiers

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Ryo

The word “financier” may remind you of someone who handles money, but it’s also the name of a small cake. Financiers are usually made from almond flour. And lots of butter. And so they are delicious. At least to me.

I recently (OK, so maybe it’s been a few months) made some blackberry financiers. They’re little almond cakes with a blackberry half in the middle. But who would’ve thought to drop a berry into a rich cake like this? I can only imagine…

Jacques was relaxing at home after a long day at work in downtown Paris. The constant stream of clients, the endless phone calls, when would they all stop? All he had the energy to do at home was sit back in his overstuffed chair with a big glass of red wine and munch on a fresh baguette.

He thought back to when he bought the baguette, right after work. The local market had a bakery stand that he loved to visit. The smell of freshly-baked bread, the butter from the pastries, the cinnamon from the cinnamon buns… those scents could not be captured in a bottle. If only they could be, he would be spraying that all over his flat, making it smell like heaven in the form of a bakery.

Right next to the bakery stand at the market was a produce stand, where they had the most beautiful blackberries, displayed in large, flat containers. The skin was so tight, the flesh glistening in the afternoon sun, just slightly moist from a recent spray of water the farmer applied to keep them fresh. He couldn’t resist buying two boxes of them. And now he had two large boxes of blackberries, teasing him from his kitchen counter. He couldn’t very well down them all in one sitting, could he?

His thoughts drifted to Melanie, his coworker with legs that never ended. Jacques had an ongoing quasi-relationship with her, where they were not quite girlfriend and boyfriend, but were they ever sleeping together like rabbits in heat. Even though he had absolutely no energy to even pick up a book, he certainly had the will and desire to have a shag with Melanie tonight. So he rang her up and she eagerly invited him over. Who said that French girls don’t like sex? He thought the blackberries would be an excellent precoital snack, and so he tucked the boxes under his arm and hurried over to Melanie’s apartment.

Jacques rang the doorbell with the enthusiasm of a dog expecting a treat, and Melanie swung the door open with an equal amount of zeal. Her eyes popped open when she saw the blackberries. Fruit was her second love, closely following sex. She squealed with delight and carried them over to the kitchen. She mentioned to Jacques that she was just about to pop some financiers in the oven. This woman was so unbelievably hot, incredibly smart, and she was even a master baker. What was not to love?

As Melanie set the blackberries down on the counter, Jacques caught a glimpse of her firm, round ass, and it was all he could do to keep himself from jumping her right then and there. His body succumbed to his mind’s lust, and he leapt at her like a hyena pouncing on its prey. It took all of her strength to keep herself from falling onto the floor, but she was accustomed to such sudden advances from Jacques, his animalistic urges on full display whenever she was wearing something tight and revealing, as she was this evening in her low-cut black blouse.

Her tongue darted directly towards the back of Jacques’s throat, his own tongue barely quick enough to intercept it. Their tongues swirled against each other like two wet serpents in an intimate mating ritual. There was only so much volume to be explored in their mouths, so their attentions both quickly shifted towards the buttons on their chests. Jacques deftly unbuttoned the buttons on Melanie’s blouse, and her blouse hit the floor before she could even blink. Her breasts were as perky as ever, nearly popping out of her lace bra.

But it was Melanie’s turn to do some undressing for Jacques, and she reached up to unbutton his shirt. As she ripped open the front, it revealed his toned chest, which she promptly ran her hand over, appreciating every curve and valley of his chiseled torso. Jacques was quick to reciprocate the removal, unsnapping the back of her bra with one hand, like a magician performing his most comfortable routine. Melanie’s breasts were unleashed, two spotlights shining straight into Jacques’s intrigued eyes.

His pants and her skirt fell to the floor like dead weight ejected from an overloaded aircraft, and they were down to their underwear right next to Melanie’s kitchen island. Completely oblivious to the fact that the big boxes of blackberries were right on the edge of the counter they were undressing very close to, they took off their undergarments simultaneously, exposing their private parts to each other like they had many times before.

Jacques took Melanie into his arms, his throbbing member grazing against her labia. She was getting wetter than the lettuce at the grocery store right after being sprayed with water. A moan escaped her mouth as he inserted a finger into her sex, gently caressing her clitoris. She could feel every joint in his finger hitting her spot, waves of pleasure spreading from that region with every point of contact. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, right as Jacques inserted a second finger. Her juices increased from mere droplets to a steady trickle, his fingers getting completely oiled up from her excitement.

It was her turn, as Melanie grasped his penis with her right hand. She could feel his pulse in her palm, and she began stroking it up and down. He, too, let out a moan, as he released his own fluids, their hands now both covered in each other’s sexual secretions. The manual stroking continued for a while, and their tongues continued to explore each other’s mouths.

Jacques’s tongue exited her mouth and traveled down her front, encircling her large nipples on the way down to her groin. His tongue flitted about her clitoris, teasing her for a bit while she moaned. His tongue found its way into her vagina, tasting all of the nectar this peach was offering. The tip of his tongue reached her secret spot, the elusive spot that so few men could reach. As the tip grazed it gently, her moans gradually got louder, and she yelled that she needed him inside of her, now.

Jacques obliged eagerly, inserting his penis into her effortlessly. She jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist while he started to thrust into her. Up and down went her body, as she threw her head back to look at the ceiling, right before closing her eyes, lost in a haze of ecstasy. The pumping became increasingly faster, as if the end of the world were coming and they needed to reach one last climax. Their moans became louder and louder, sweat dripping down their foreheads, the tip of his penis hitting her G-spot with increasing frequency.

The point of no return had come for both of them, and they both knew it from the intensity of their moans. This was a place they had reached together many times before, and every time it was a new adventure. Their eyes were both closed when Jacques shot his load deep inside of her. As it shot up into her, she simultaneously climaxed, her vaginal walls constricting around his convulsing penis.

Neither of them could keep their balance anymore, strength leaving their knees, and she desperately reached towards the kitchen island. In the process, she hit one of the boxes of blackberries, sending the contents flying in the other direction. Some of them landed in the financier batter she had portioned into the molds.

The intensity of the sex over, she went over to the sink to wash her hands. She examined her financier batter, now dotted with blackberries. Maybe this could work out as it was, she thought to herself. Even though the financiers were delicious on their own, adding the tartness of a blackberry might elevate it to new heights. So she went with it. With the oven preheated already, she stuck the tray into the oven and set the timer.

She turned around to see her man leaning against the kitchen island, his chest heaving from all of the exertion. He was soft now, his face flush, the sweat still on his forehead. But what a beautiful sight that was. He thought the same of her slim body with the ample breasts, his fluids starting to leak out of her and onto the floor.

After cleaning up and getting dressed, the timer went off, and Melanie checked on her financiers with the added berries. They seemed to have turned out well, golden brown with bits of blackberry peeking out from underneath the surface. After unmolding them and letting them cool a bit, she popped one into her mouth. The familiar taste of butter and almond filled her mouth, and there was an added pop of tartness when she bit into the blackberry. It was a perfect union, the rich cake with the tart blackberry.

This day had been great for Melanie. Wonderful sex, discovered a new variation on a favorite recipe. What more could she want? Well, perhaps another romp in the hay with her man.

Gosh that was getting a bit unsanitary towards the end, but I have faith that Melanie, being a master baker, is an incredibly hygienic person. Anyway, here’s the recipe, which I got from here.

IMG_5231

Blackberry Financiers

1/2 cup plus 5 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup sliced almonds [I just used about 3/4 cup of almond flour]
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons powdered sugar
5 large egg whites
2 tablespoons honey
2 cups blackberries, halved

  1. Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat, and simmer until brown bits begin to form.
  2. Scrape the brown bits from the bottom of the saucepan, and keep stirring until dark brown, but not burnt.
  3. Scrape the butter and the brown bits into a bowl to cool.
  4. Process the almonds and all-purpose flour in a food processor until finely ground (or just use almond flour and mix them together).
  5. Mix the almond and flour mixture with the powdered sugar.
  6. Add egg whites, and mix until smooth.
  7. Fold in the honey.
  8. Fold in the brown butter.
  9. Cover the batter and let it chill for at least 90 minutes.
  10. Preheat oven to 375F.
  11. Grease and optionally line with mini-muffin liners a mini-muffin tin.
  12. Fill mini-muffin cups about 3/4 full, and press 3-4 blackberry halves into each one.
  13. Bake until the cakes are golden brown and cooked through, about 15~16 minutes.
  14. Let the cakes cool in the pan for 10 minutes, and then remove them from the pan.
  15. Dust with powdered sugar before serving.

IMG_5225

The batter, with almond flour and butter and all that good stuff.

IMG_5226

The batter, rather sloppily poured into a mini-muffin tin.

IMG_5227

Being as small as they are, I could only fit one blackberry half into each one without it looking overwhelmed with blackberries. How do they fit 3 halves into each one? They must be using really small blackberries.

IMG_5228

Nice and golden brown after their little stay in the oven.

IMG_5230

Dusted with powdered sugar.

IMG_5232

These cakes are pretty dense little things, but they were quite delicious. Next time, I think I’ll force some more blackberries into each one for even more fruit flavor.

Posted in Baking, Fiction | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Almost a Royal

Posted on March 25, 2013 by Ryo

I was recently in Vegas, where I played some poker yet again. Despite some (in my opinion) bad luck, and the usual bad playing, I came out behind only $91. Much better than the $500 or so I was down the first day.

So when I say bad luck, I mean stuff happening like me running QJ into KJ on two separate J-high flops. It’s hard enough to flop one pair, let alone top pair. And then to run the third-highest kicker into the second-highest twice, both times being too short to let it go… well, I’m just making excuses. And then another time, one guy opened to $20, and I reraised all-in to about $80 with AQo. Everyone else folded, and the original raiser called with KQ. The flop was 543, and then the turn was an A, so I breathed a sigh of relief since I had no way of losing. But then, wouldn’t you know it, the river was a 2, so we chopped with a wheel on the board. I totally had him dominated and all.

And then at one point, the unthinkable almost happened, but I didn’t let it. I opened to $12 from middle position at a $1/3 table with AcTx, and only the button called. The flop was KcQcJc, and I bet $15 since otherwise it would look way too fishy. The button folded, and I will never know if I would’ve gotten the miraculous Tc for a royal flush.

Well, there’s always next time. I always say that. And I’ll keep saying that. Until I run out of money.

Posted in Personal, Poker | Leave a comment

The Color of Blood

Posted on February 28, 2013 by Ryo

For whatever reason, I stopped making cocktails sometime in the second half of last year. Maybe it was because I started drinking more wine (for health reasons, of course). Maybe it was increasing laziness. Who knows.

Then, last week, I was still reeling from Valentine’s Day. OK, so “reeling” is probably being overly dramatic. But really, all these Valentine’s Days alone take their toll. Well, I wasn’t really alone, since I did have dinner with a friend. But it wasn’t romantic or anything. So does it count? Probably not.

But you know what helps when you feel lonely? Alcohol! And what better color is there to curse (or commemorate) Valentine’s Day with than red?

First is a variation of a Negroni, with bourbon instead of gin.

IMG_6534

Boulevardier
1.5 oz bourbon
1 oz sweet vermouth
1 oz Campari
orange twist

Too much alcohol in this one, I wanted something like lemon juice or some other non-alcohol flavor to cut through the heavy taste of alcohol.

And then another Campari drink, since it has a nice red color.

IMG_6537

Campari Martini
3 oz vodka
1 oz Campari
lime twist

As you might expect from a drink that’s 75% vodka, this was incredibly strong. The ounce of Campari really didn’t do much except make it a little bit sweeter and give it a faint taste of Campari, but the vodka just overpowers it all.

I was kind of overwhelmed by the last drink, so I went for a fruitier, more familiar one.

IMG_6561

Cape Codder
1.5 oz vodka
3 oz cranberry juice
lime slice

Well it’s a vodka cranberry with a different name. And a higher proportion of vodka than I’m used to. But with a squeeze of lime it was pretty good. Maybe a bit more cranberry juice next time.

Let’s be honest: I’d much rather have a nice, romantic night on Valentine’s Day with a loved one than enjoy a red cocktail. But the alcohol definitely helps me get over the disappointment!

Posted in Mixology | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Coffee Swirl Coffee Cake

Posted on February 20, 2013 by Ryo

Coffee cake is called coffee cake not because it has coffee in it, but because you eat it along with coffee. At a lot of these breakfast places, I feel like it’s just an excuse to eat what’s basically cake for breakfast. But since you’re eating it as an accompaniment to your coffee, it’s not nearly as sinful as straight cake, right? Right.

But how about putting actual coffee into a coffee cake? It’s as if the cake suddenly deserves its own name. How did such an idea come about, I wonder…

Hansel’s cafe was just opening to greet its customers on a fine March morn. Hat on head, smile on face, he opened the large French doors of his German cafe, welcoming the throngs of early birds inside for breakfast. Men and women, boys and girls rushed past him, each group wanting a table before the small cafe filled up.

The cafe’s specialty was coffee Bundt cake. A moist, rich vanilla cake in that distinctive Bundt shape. Plain in flavor, yet so luxurious on the tongue. Some people even ordered two slices to go with their coffee. Many ordered it even without coffee. Any excuse to have cake for breakfast.

It was a busy morning as usual, and Hansel looked up for a moment to see the most beautiful creature walk into the front door. Long locks of blond hair flowing down the sides of her pristine face, kissing the tops of her petite shoulders on the way down to the small of her back. He hurried to the front to greet her and offered her a seat.

Her name was Lena and she worked at a nearby hair salon. That explained her beautiful hair, long and yet so perfectly tamed. Hansel rushed to get her a glass of water, asking her if she needed anything. She asked for a few minutes to decide what she wanted to order. She came alone, he noticed. No man on her arm. He mentioned that their coffee Bundt cake was their specialty, smiling flirtatiously as “Bundt” escaped his mouth.

Hansel went to the kitchen, eagerly anticipating what Lena would order. He paced back and forth, fidgeting as if he were about to have a job interview for the most important job of his life. He stared at his watch, making sure he had given her enough minutes to make up her mind. He strode confidently into the dining room and approached her table.

She told him that he had convinced her, and the coffee Bundt cake was what she wanted, along with a small cup of coffee. Great choice, he complimented, trying his hardest not to grin as large as a Cheshire cat. She smiled back, exposing her perfectly white teeth in that petite mouth of hers. It was all Hansel could do to keep his heart from melting into a puddle right in front of her.

He rushed to the back of the restaurant, only to realize that he was running out of coffee Bundt. Luckily, there were still a few slices left, and he quickly cut a large slice for Lena, placing it on a plate so he could warm it up a bit. Meanwhile, he needed to prepare another Bundt, since he was sure to get more orders for their signature cake.

Hansel started mixing the batter, which was a basic cake with butter, flour, eggs, and all the other ingredients that made cake the heavenly creation it was. He then suddenly remembered that Lena had ordered a coffee, and he really wanted to make a fresh pot for her. Coffee beans went into the grinder, and just as he was carrying the ground coffee over to the coffee pot, he lost his footing, and the bowl went flying. It made a majestic arc in the air and somehow landed right in the middle of the Bundt cake batter.

He was aghast. His signature coffee Bundt cake, ruined with… coffee! But wait, doesn’t this actually make more sense? To have actual coffee in coffee cake? It seemed like it’d be worth a try. But straight coffee in the middle of cake might be a bit too bitter. The coffee had luckily landed in one pile, so he took a bit of it out, and mixed it with some butter and sugar to create a sort of coffee paste. He spread this around the middle of the cake, and covered that with more cake batter.

After Hansel put the cake into the oven, he started to make a new pot of coffee for Lena. This time, no airborne coffee granules, and he managed to make a steaming hot cup for her. He took the warm slice he had prepared earlier, along with the fresh coffee, and brought it out to Lena. Her eyes lit up like a slot machine declaring a jackpot.

He asked if he could get her anything else and left her with her food. As he checked on the other tables, he couldn’t help but glance over at her, spooning pieces of coffee cake into her mouth as she sipped on her coffee. Her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth turned up. She was obviously enjoying the experience. Hansel needed the will gathered from every bone in his body to stop himself from going over there and asking how she liked it. It was way too soon after she had started eating. It would be too creepy.

Lena was taking her time with her cake and coffee, as she glanced occasionally at a small book she had brought with her. Hansel went back into the kitchen to check on his latest invention, the coffee cake with actual coffee in it. It was about time to pull it out of the oven. There it was, the perfectly round cake with the hole in the middle, golden brown on the outside. He cut himself a slice, and the vein of coffee revealed itself. A small layer of brown in a sea of yellow fluffiness. He couldn’t wait to dig into it.

He took a fork and took a scoop of the yellow cake along with a bit of the coffee layer. As the fork moved toward his mouth, he could smell the rich, familiar aroma of butter, along with a hint of the coffee. Once it reached his tongue, he could taste the heavenly combination of the pound cake flavor with the bitter yet sweet taste of the coffee layer. It was a masterful combination. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?

Immediately, he thought of Lena and how she was enjoying her coffee cake out in the dining room. Wouldn’t she love a taste of this? He hurriedly cut another slice of the warm cake and brought it out to her. He proudly exclaimed that she was the first customer to try out his new culinary creation, and she smiled again. He could never tire of that beaming smile of hers. He watched as she took a bite of the new cake, and immediately he knew that he had a hit. Was it his imagination, or did she let out a small moan? He could see color suffusing her cheeks, as if she had just had some kind of orgasmic experience.

She thanked Hansel for the coffee cake, as he had given her his newest invention on the house. Of course, said Hansel, as she got back to eating her cake and finishing her coffee. He left her alone for the moment, eager for the next time they could talk.

Soon she was ready for the bill, and Lena called Hansel over. He almost skipped on the way there, and thanked her for coming. She complimented him again on the cake, and she said she would definitely be back for more. He may have just imagined it, but he could have sworn she had winked at him.

Hansel went back to the kitchen, completely satisfied. New cake, new girl, the future was bright for him.

What, you thought there’d be sex? Well maybe in the next story…

I got the recipe here. I like sour cream more than Greek yogurt so I used that, but you can of course substitute.

IMG_4779

Coffee Swirl Coffee Cake

2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) butter, room temperature
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
1 cup sour cream

Coffee Swirl
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) butter, room temperature
2 1/2 teaspoon instant coffee
1/2 teaspoon cocoa powder
1/4 cup brown sugar

  1. Preheat oven to 350F.
  2. Grease and flour a 10-inch Bundt pan.
  3. Whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, and set aside.
  4. Cream together the butter and sugar in a bowl until light and fluffy.
  5. Beat in the eggs, one at a time.
  6. Beat in the vanilla extract.
  7. Stir in half of the flour mixture, and mix to combine.
  8. Stir in the sour cream and mix until combined.
  9. Add the remaining flour mixture, and stir until just combined.
  10. Beat the 2 tablespoons of butter, along with the instant coffee, cocoa powder, and brown sugar, together in a small bowl to make the coffee swirl.
  11. Put half of the batter into the Bundt pan, and spread it around evenly.
  12. Place the coffee mixture in a ring around the center of the batter.
  13. Top the ring of coffee with the remaining half of the cake batter.
  14. Bake for 45~50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
  15. Let the cake cool for 20 minutes in the pan before turning it out onto a wire rack.

I actually made this again recently, but here’s some pictures from the first time, many months ago.

IMG_4774

The cake batter. Very thick.

IMG_4775

The coffee swirl.

IMG_4776

Half the cake batter, with a ring of the coffee swirl mixture.

IMG_4777

Then the rest of the cake batter on top of that.

IMG_4778

After 50 minutes in the oven, it’s done.

IMG_4779

The coffee swirl unfortunately seems to have sunk to the bottom, which is now the top of the cake.

IMG_4780

The cake was very moist, most likely because of all the butter, and the coffee swirl add a vein of nice mocha flavor to the middle.

Coffee cake with coffee, who would’ve thought that would taste good?

Posted in Baking, Fiction | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

10 Things You Shouldn’t Buy New

Posted on January 31, 2013 by Ryo

For whatever reason, I was reading this article about things you shouldn’t buy new. It lists ten of them, and to my horror, I realized that I have habitually bought over half of those things new.

  1. Books

    2. I totally buy new books all the time. Because who knows what shape an old book is going to be in? And yes, it’s totally true that I read most of them only once. There are some that I haven’t even read once. I just don’t have the patience to look through a bunch of used book listings for one that’s in decent shape.

  2. DVDs and CDs

    3. I haven’t bought a CD in forever, but whenever there’s a good deal on some DVD I vaguely want, I’ll take it. I just don’t bother scouring other sites for used DVDs.

  3. Little kids’ toys

    4. Now this one I am not guilty of buying new, because I just don’t buy them at all. Unless you count stuffed animals. Which I’m glad I buy new, because how do you know how the previous owner treated some stuffed animal you buy from them? It could be infected with all sorts of germs, for all you know.

  4. Jewelry

    5. OK so I’ve really only bought one thing that could be considered jewelry (a watch), and I’m glad I did buy it new, because if it was fitted for someone else’s wrist, it might have been missing some links. And the black paint wears off quite easily, so it would probably look even more scratched up than mine does now, if I had bought it used.

  5. Sports equipment

    6. Well, since I don’t play sports, I have little use for sports equipment, new or used.

  6. Timeshares

    7. I don’t have any interest in buying a timeshare, and I’ve actually never listened to those three-hour presentations in order to get a free something or another.

  7. Vehicles

    8. I have owned exactly one car in my lifetime, and I bought it new. Well, let’s be honest, my parents bought it new for me. Since at the time, I had very little money. But since it wasn’t exactly a high-end luxury car, I don’t think buying used would’ve saved that much money anyway.

  8. Software and console games

    9. I don’t buy that many console games, but when I do, it’s often something I really want to play, like Final Fantasy XIII-2, and I want to play it right when it comes out, so I have no choice but to buy new. And I often buy titles that are kind of old at a steep discount, even when they’re new. Like Final Fantasy XIII-2 now, for example, is 1/3 the price compared to when it first came out. Who wants to buy a used copy of questionable quality for $15 when you can get a new copy for $19?

  9. Office furniture

    10. I bought my chair new because I know how much time I spend in it. How do I know that the previous owner of some office chair hadn’t been sitting in it 12 hours a day with his bare butt, getting his dirty dog to sit in it with him, and occasionally having sex with his wife in it when he’s feeling horny in his office?

  10. Hand tools

    11. I don’t know how to use hand tools, so I certainly haven’t actually bought any. Maybe when I finally find a house…

OK so maybe “habitually” is a bit strong, since the jewelry and vehicle purchases have so far been one-time things. But still, think of all the money I could have saved! Totally could have put it toward a down payment on a house or something.

Posted in Shopping | Leave a comment

2012 in Review

Posted on January 27, 2013 by Ryo

Well the fact that it’s taken me 27 days into the new year to write something about the previous year says something about my diligence. It’s just hard to create content, you know? Well, maybe I’ve just gotten lazier, I don’t know.

So here’s what happened in 2012:

  • Wrote 48 blog posts (down from 132 in 2011).
  • Wrote 16 short stories (down from 21 in 2011).
  • Read 15 books (up from 2 in 2011). Favorites: The History of Love, Blood Meridian, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Least favorites: Beloved, Indian Nocturne.
  • Took 3716 pictures that I kept on my computer (down from 3803 in 2011).
  • Baked at least 56 items (up from 53 in 2011).
  • Made at least 27 different cocktails (down from 77 in 2011). I seem to have stopped making cocktails in the middle of the year, since I started to drink wine more. For health reasons, of course.
  • Made $236 playing poker (which totally doesn’t make up for the $560 I lost in 2011, but 2012 included a particularly bad run at Tahoe where I lost $500 in a series of bad beats).
  • Lost $454 through other forms of gambling (which is significantly worse than the $10 loss in 2011, which means I should really give up on gambling probably).

And there was also all the non-blog-related stuff, like going on vacation, more food indulgences that I didn’t post here, making new friends, spending time with friends, starting the long search for a house, and so forth. Well, I hope 2013 will be even better! I always say that. But I think it usually does come true somehow.

Posted in Personal, Updates | Tagged | Leave a comment

Lightning Sometimes Strikes Twice but I Don’t Always Score with Rich Asian Men

Posted on December 29, 2012 by Ryo

I was in Vegas for a couple of days this week for my family’s annual holiday trip there, and of course I happened to play some poker. The second night, I was a 2/5 table that didn’t break until the wee hours of the morning, so I sat there for almost ten hours. I didn’t feel that tired, actually. But I managed to only end up $104 ahead, even with a couple of rich Asian men to my right who seemed to play every pot and had at least $2000 in front of each of them.

So as usual, I wasn’t too creative, and I probably played too passively, which cost me a bit. But an odd coincidence happened the only time I had to rebuy, when I was dealt QQ when I was UTG+1. The guy to my right limped, I raised to $20 with about $210 in front of me, and a loose aggressive guy in middle position called, and the limper called. The flop was 962 with two spades, the guy on my right checked, and I bet $40. The aggressive guy raised to $125, the guy on my right folded, and I went all-in for about $65 more, and of course the raiser called. The turn was a spade, and he had AsJs, so that was the end of my first buy-in. The very next hand, I had rebought for $200, and I was dealt QQ under the gun. I raised to $15, got a caller to my immediate left, and then a guy three to my left minraised to $25. The big blind called, and I reraised to $90. The guy on my immediate left folded, the minraiser thought for a while and raised $200 more. The big blind folded, and I made the easy call. The board ran out J high with 4 spades, and he had AK but luckily no spade, so I doubled up. Good thing I did, or else I would’ve just given up for the night. Or maybe that would’ve been better, because I would’ve gotten a lot more sleep.

But besides that, I just couldn’t get very much going. On one hand I opened for $15 from the button with AA, and both blinds called. The flop was KJ7 rainbow, and they both checked. I bet $30, the small blind called, and the big blind, who was kind of tilting from losing a couple of medium pots immediately before this hand, raised all-in to $152. I was pretty sure he had KJ or some hand like that, but I had to call $122 more, and the small blind folded. Sure enough, he flipped over KJ, and the turn was another K, and I never hit a 2-outer so the river was a blank. Oh well. Not much I could’ve done with that one, I think.

And then there were a bunch of regretful folds and some missed 3-betting opportunities. There was one time I 3-bet a middle position raiser who raised to $20 to $60 from the small blind with AcKc, and he 4-bet to $180. I had started the hand with only $320, but I folded just because I think he had the impression that I was pretty tight (which I was), so I didn’t think he would do that with, say, AQ or TT or something like that. Could’ve been a bluff, but who knows. I probably should’ve 5-bet shoved, but… there will always be regrets. And there will always be a next time.

Posted in Personal, Poker | Leave a comment

The Signal and the Noise

Posted on December 18, 2012 by Ryo

I recently read Nate Silver’s popular book, The Signal and the Noise. He’s the guy who correctly predicted the winner of the election in all fifty states. The book is about how people have attempted to predict various things – the stock market, elections, earthquakes, and so forth – and how they’ve both failed and succeeded in doing so.

The book is largely made up of examples of various prediction systems people have made in different areas. Silver writes in an informative yet entertaining style. Even topics I usually find boring, like politics or economics, he was able to describe in a way that had me engaged and wanting to learn more.

The second half of the book goes into how to make better predictions. A large part of it rests on Bayes’ Theorem, which is a basic law of probability that you would learn in the beginning of an introductory statistics course. And yet, he never actually states the theorem in terms of probabilities of events. I found this a bit frustrating, despite knowing what the theorem is, because he frequently refers to it as being an important tool in making predictions (contrasted to the frequentist approach, which he describes as inferior, for which he also includes no equations).

He even goes through some examples where he gives numbers for x (the prior probability), y (the conditional probability given the hypothesis is true), and z (the conditional probability given the hypothesis is false), and then he magically plugs them into the formula xy/(xy + z(1-x)). Well that works, but I really think it would’ve been more effective had he expressed it in terms of events A and B and conditional probabilities in terms of those events, rather than having to memorize what three letters really mean. But yeah, that’s just a gripe from me as a statistics major.

There’s a lot of interesting footnotes that I wish he had just included in the text at the bottom of each page, instead of putting them in a separate section at the end of the book. I kept having to flip back and forth between the main text and the notes section (and some chapters have >100 footnotes), only to see that most of them were just references to other materials. The non-reference footnotes would’ve been much better as actual footnotes in the text. Again, minor gripe.

It’s sometimes a tad repetitive, the message of prediction being a difficult problem that can’t be approached by just throwing numbers into a black box. But the anecdotes are interesting, Silver’s commentary is engaging and occasionally humorously snarky (“New Orleans does many things well, but there are two things that it proudly refuses to do. New Orleans does not move quickly, and New Orleans does not place much faith in authority.”). I enjoyed the chapters about poker and chess, since those were more “fun” examples involving games that I think makes the more abstract talk of prediction a bit more relatable.

So even though I’m not usually much of a nonfiction reader (Underground and Moneyball are really the only other nonfiction books I’ve read recently), because it was entertaining, I zipped through this 500+-page book in much less time than it’s taken me to read a lot of shorter fiction books.

Posted in Books, Statistics | Tagged , | Leave a comment