It's All About The Cake

One of my earliest birthday memories is of watching guests arrive to my party. The mothers walked the girls up to the front door. The girls were all wearing dresses, white ankle socks, and patent leather shoes, because that's what little girls wore back in that time and place, and they were all carrying gifts. As I eyed the gaily wrapped packages, I tried to guess what might be inside and one package in particular got me very excited. It was a long, thin, tubular shape. I just knew it had to be a baton! Dreams of happy twirling filled my head, only to crash to the ground when I opened it and found it was a pup tent.

As a child, birthdays were all about the presents. But presents can be disappointing, so as I've gotten older (and older), birthdays have become all about the cake. I spend the weeks leading up to my birthday thinking about what kind of cake I want. What kind of frosting. What kind of decoration. And then I get to make it.

Non-bakers that I know invariably will say, "You have to make your own birthday cake?" No, no, I get to. I have an excuse to spend a day trying a new recipe, a new technique, or just making a tried and true favorite. And then an excuse to eat it!

Recently I saw a cake in a bakery display case that stood out. Pure, snowy white frosting, crowned with a ring of raspberries. Yes, that was the look of the cake for this year. But what to put inside? I'd been eyeing several lovely cakes in Baking and decided to do the Black and white chocolate cake, only substituting raspberry for chocolate, so it would look like the Perfect Party Cake, only without coconut.

The day before my birthday I made the cake without any problems. I left it to cool overnight, got up early in the morning to make the frosting, which I knew needed to be chilled for several hours. There I hit a snag. The frosting is simplicity itself. Only two ingredients. White chocolate and heavy cream. The choclate needs to melt while part of the cream boils. The two are put together, stirred, and then left to cool to room temperature. This part went fine.

It was when the mixture was to be added to the rest of the cream that it started to go south. I put the cream in the mixer, watching for it to just reach the "soft peak" stage, and the phone rang. My darling husband was calling to wish me a happy birthday. He's so sweet and deserves better than a wife who abruptly ends the conversation with "Oh, #&%!" when she looks into the mixer and sees VERY stiffly beaten whipped cream.

I turned off the mixture, carefully scraped out the cream, saving it for later dessert topping, and added more cream for a second try. Thank goodness I buy cream by the jug from Costco! This time I got the cream to just reach soft peaks. Perfect. Then the directions say to turn the mixer to high and add the white chocolate mixture all at once. I tried, but it was awkward and the mixture was not all going into the bowl. I turned off the mixer, quickly scraped all the white chocolate cream into the bowl, turned the mixer back on high and....eeek! Why is it all curdy? Maybe it's just not incorporated enough and needs more mixing. Back on high. No, no! It's turning yellow and breaking up. I'm making....butter!

At this point I figured this batch was a goner and just went for the butter. To make butter from cream in a mixer you just keep whipping the snot out of it until the fats clump together and you have a butter glob in a pool of runny liquid. This is what I achieved. But interestingly, it tasted a lot like white chocolate. So, when life hands you white chocolate butter, make white chocolate buttercream frosting. Also, save the white chocolate buttermilk to put in your coffee.

So, here's how to make a stunning cake with lots of improvisation, a sprinkling of colorful language, and a jug of heavy cream.



Raspberry White Chocolate Birthday Cake
adapted from Baking by Dorrie Greenspan

Cake:

2 cups cake flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1-1/4 sticks (10 Tbsp) unsalted butter or white chocolate butter, at room temperature
1 cup sugar
3 large eggs
1 large egg yolk
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
3/4 cup buttermilk

1- Center a rack in the oven and preheat to 350 deg. F. Butter two 9 x 2-inch round cake pans, dust the insides with flour, tap out the excess and line the bottoms of the pans with parchment or wax paper. Put the pans on a baking sheet. (Note: I used 8-inch cake pans. I can't wait to get my new prescription for my glasses!)

2- Sift together the cake flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

3- In an electric mixer beat the butter on medium speed until soft and creamy. Add the sugar and beat for another 3 minutes. Add the eggs one by one, and then the yolk, beating for 1 minute after each addition. Beat in the vanilla; don't be concerned if the mixture looks curdled. Reduce the mixer speed to low and add the dry ingredients alternately with the buttermillk, adding the dry ingreients in 3 additions and the milk in 2 (beginning and ending with the dry ingredients): scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed and mix only until the ingredients disappear into the batter. Divide the batter evenly between the two pans and smooth the tops with a rubber spatula.

4 - Bake for 28-30 minutes, rotating the pans at the midway point. When fully baked, the cakes will be golden and spriny to the touch and a thin knife inserted into the center will come out clean. Transfer the cakes to a rack and cool for about 2 minutes, then unmold, remove the paper and invert to cool to room temperature right side up on the rack.

5 - To assemble the cake, when the layers have cooled, level off the tops with a serrated knife. Then with a gentle sawing motion, cut each layer in half. Place one half layer on your cake plate, top that with a generous amount of raspberry filling. Place the other half on top of that and spread a generous amount of frosting. Repeat with the other two layer halves and then frost the cake, crowning it with a ring of plump, juicy raspberries. On a hot day, store in the refrigerator to keep the frosting and berries from wilting.

Filling:

Best quality raspberry jam. I used a jar of low-sugar freezer jam that a friend gave me. It was bursting with raspberry flavor and was a good foil for the sweetness of the frosting.

White chocolate buttercream Frosting:

1/4 cup unsalted butter or white chocolate butter
Pinch of salt
1/2 tsp almond flavoring extract
4-4-1/2 cups (454 g) sifted confectioners' sugar
5 Tbsp milk, more or less as needed

In an electric mixer, cream the butter until soft. Beat in the salt and almond extract.

With the mixer on lowest speed, gradually beat in the sugar and milk, in 4 alternating batches. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and the beater.

Beat on high speed until creamy. Add more milk if needed for proper spreading consistency. This can be made in advance and stored, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 1 week. Bring to room temperature and whip smooth before using.

White Chocolate Butter:

This can be used in the cake, as well as the frosting, to impart a subtle white chocolate taste. I'm looking forward to trying it in some cookies.

6 oz. premium-quality white chocolate, finely chopped
1-1/2 cups heavy cream

1- Put the white chocolate in a heatproof bowl and put the bowl over a saucepan of gently simmering water. Stir frequently to melt the chocolate evenly. Meanwhile, bring 1/2 cup of the heavy cream to a boil.

2- When the white chocolat is melted, remove the bowl from the pan. Pour the hot cream into the melted chocolate and let it sit for a minute. Using a small spatula, stir the chocolate gently until it is smooth. Let it sit on the counter until it reaches room temperature.

3- Pour the remaining cream into a mixing bowl. Using a whisk attachment or hand mixer, beat the cream until it holds soft peaks. Turn the machine to high, add the cooled white chocolate all at once and continue to beat until the whipped cream holds firm peaks. (If you want to keep it like this, turn off the machine, press a piece of plasti wrap gently against the surface to seal it and refrigerate for 2 hours.) If you want white chocolate butter, continue beating on high. The cream will break up into small curds and the curds will start to clump together. When it's mainly one big clump swimming in a milky liquid, turn off the mixer and use a rubber spatula to press against the butter, encouraing it to stick together and forcing out liquid, pouring off the liquid (save it for coffee!) as it appears. When you've removed most of the liquid, put the bowl in the refrigerator. Remove it every 20 minutes or so to press out any remaining liquid from inside the butter.

Taste of the Tropics

My dream home would have an enormous kitchen well-stocked with every gadget, a self-growing garden, and bookshelves on every available square foot of wall space. I love books. Not just cookbooks, but fiction, fact, and in between. As a homeschooler I buy books like 101 Fun Science Experiments You Can Do at Home With Aluminum Foil and Peanut Butter and The Rise and Fall of Mesopotamia. As a fiction reader, I devour mysteries. And as a baker I have a hard time restraining myself when it comes to any cookbook with wonderful pictures.

I have a special fondness for good children's books and one of my childhood favorites that I read and reread till the corners got dog-eared was the classic, Baby Island by Carol Ryrie Brink. It's a charming story about 2 girls who get stranded on a desert island with a boatload of babies. It's the perfect read for any pre-teen girl who's in the "Awwww, a baby!" phase.

One of the things that mystified me in the book was the mention of breadfruit. What was this? According to the book it grew on trees, but was it shaped like a loaf of bread? Did it taste like bread? Did the flowers emit the seductive smell of fresh-baked bread? I never knew the answer until my husband and I were on a vacation in Maui. Walking around, soaking up the sights, I fairly shrieked aloud when I read a historical marker plaque telling that the gigantic tree there was a breadfruit tree. I picked up one of the fruit and had my picture taken with it, so pleased was I to finally meet a breadfruit.

Another fruit I had read about but never tasted was mango. I know, a collective gasp of astonishment goes up. I'm aware that it's probably the most popular fruit in the world, but in the desert climate I grew up in, there weren't a lot of mango groves. It wasn't until recently that I tried a mango. After all I'd heard about mangoes, I expected a lot, but wasn't immediately sold. It's a strong flavor that takes a bit of getting used to. In fact, in researching, I found that there is a small amount of naturally occuring kerosene in mangoes, some varieties more than others. Now kerosene is not an item I stock in my spice cupboard. So it was only because I was on a Perfect Scoop roll that I plucked up two mangoes at the market and whipped up this sorbet.

It went together really easily, and I think if you like mangoes you'd love this sorbet. David Lebovitz suggests pairing it with raspberry sherbet and I think I'd enjoy it more with something to cut the intensity of the flavor. My family had texture issues with it. Maybe it was the mangos I used, but there was a certain stringy, pulpy consistency to it. Anyway, this is my offering for Alpineberry's Tropical Paradise Sugar High Friday. For me a mango is the second best way to say "tropical." My grocery store doesn't carry breadfruit.

Mango Sorbet
- adapted from The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz

2 large, ripe mangoes (about 2 pounds or 1 kg)
2/3 cup (130 g) sugar
2/3 cup (160 ml) water
4 tsp freshly squeezed lime juice, plus more to taste
1 Tbsp dark rum
Pinch of salt

Peel the mangoes and cut the flesh away from the pit. Cut the flesh into chunks and throw them in a blender with the sugar, water, lime juice, rum, and salt. Squeeze the mango pits hard over the blender to extract as much of the pulp and juice as possible. They're slippery at this point, so be wary of mango-pit missiles!

Puree the mixture until smooth. Taste, then add more lime juice or rum, if desired. Chill the mixture thoroughly, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions. Serve with coconut sprinkled on top for an extra taste of paradise, or with a raspberry sauce.

Pink Ladies

My best friend growing up was a funny girl named Karen. She was infectiously cheerful and would really get into things. With her it wasn't "Oh, I like this song." It was, "Stop everything and listen to this song right now. I love it!!" She was exhuberently enthusiastic about whatever held her interest at the moment. From music to food to boys to movies, there was never any middle ground. It was love it or (rarely) hate it. It was no surprise to anyone that she went on to be a cheerleader in high school.

When she asked me if I'd seen the movie, Grease, I told her that I didn't like John Travolta. She said, "Oh, go see it! You'll really hate him then!"

I saw the movie and enjoyed it, although I still didn't like John Travolta. One of my favorite elements of the movie was the Pink Ladies, the cool, bad girls with teased hair, tight pants, strut and attitude. I wished I could have had an awesome, pink jacket like theirs to wear.

This is hardly a recipe, more of a throw-together for the end of a hot week. When you've been sweltering and deserve a little unwind time and want something with a bit more kick than lemonade, reach for the blender and try a Pink Lady to start the weekend off with some attitude.

Pink Ladies

1 (6 oz) can frozen pink lemonade concentrate, undiluted
1/2 cup rum
1 cup fresh whole strawberries, stems removed
Ice cubes

Combine first 3 ingredients in container of an electric blender; add ice to make 5 cups. Process until smooth. Yield: 4-1/2 cups. Note: you can substitute vodka for rum, if you prefer, and vary the amount of liquor, depending on how tough your week has been.

Java Joy

As happy as chocolate makes me, that's how happy coffee makes my daughter. She did a brief stint as a barrista with a major coffee company, staying just long enough to get a really good coffee education. She now can talk knowledgeably about the subtle nuances of flavor, varietals, and the best pairings for different coffee beans. My own coffee knowledge extends to, "ooh, bitter." I don't drink coffee, so making coffee ice cream for her was a love thing.

She donated the beans, a rather expensive variety from her stash. As I threw the beans in to the saucepan to soak in the milk, she had second thoughts (too late!) about "wasting" those beans on ice cream. Maybe the expensive subtlities would be smothered by the ice cream. She shouldn't have worried. When she tasted it she said, "Oh, my gosh! That is the Best ice cream I have ever had!" (And considering the amount of quality ice cream I've been producing lately, that's saying quite a bit.)


And as with all wonderful foods, it was even better shared. The group she blessed with the ice cream gave it rave reviews, too. I, who don't even like coffee, thought it was pretty darn good, and would be even better with a little hot fudge sauce on top. My daughter also said that she could taste the flavor of the beans. So don't be afraid to go ahead and use really good beans. It will only enhance the flavor of the finished product.

Coffee Ice Cream
adapted from The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz

1-1/2 cups (375 ml) whole milk
3/4 cup (150 g) sugar
1-1/2 cups (125 g) whole coffee beans
Pinch of salt
1-1/2 cups (375 ml) heavy cream
5 large egg yolks
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 tsp finely ground coffee

Warm the milk, sugar, whole coffee beans, salt, and 1/2 cup (125 ml) of the cream in a medium saucepan. Once the mixture is warm, cover, remove from the heat, and let steep at room temperature for 1 hour.

Rewarm the coffee-infused milk mixture. Pour the remaining 1 cup (250 ml) cream into a large bowl and set a mesh strainer on top. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warm coffee mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constanltly. To prevent the bowl from skittering around the counter while you're pouring and stirring, place it on a rubber glove. Scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan.

Stir the mixture constanlty over medium heat with a heatproof spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. A finger pulled across the spatula's surface will leave a trail that doesn't close up. Pour the custard through the strainer and stir it into the cream. Press on the coffee beans in the strainer to extract as much of the coffee flavor as possible, then discard the beans. Mix in the vanilla and the finely ground coffee and stir until cool over an ice bath.

Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to directions.

Cooking in the Fog

Sometimes I just know I shouldn't be in the kitchen. I can't seem to focus and can reread the same sentence 3 times without comprehending what it means. It's like a fog has settled over my brain and I just can't seem to process anything. These are the times when I need a lighthouse to warn me of the shoals ahead. To flash a beacon warning me away from certain disaster that looms in the mist.

Recently I came upon a delightful little lemon cake on Alpineberry. I was smitten by its charms and filed it in my mental "make soon" file. My opportunity arose when my husband arrived home with a bag of lemons and a friend was going though sugar withdrawal. What better way to fill that need than with this sweet cake?

Or it would have been, if not for the fog. I looked at the recipe. And moved over to the counter to pull out a bowl. Then went back to recheck the recipe. And went back to the counter. Then back to the recipe. I finally gave myself a mental shake and tried to focus on the task at hand. I measured, sifted, and blended. Oops, it called for cupcake papers. Did I have enough? Yes! Just barely.

I carefully scooped the delicate chiffon batter into the papers and then wiped an errant blob off so it wouldn't burn onto the pan. Of course I couldn't resist popping it back into my mouth.

Euwwww! Why was it so sour? Had I really forgotten the sugar? Yes, I had. And adding it at this point was going to spell disaster for the dainty beaten egg whites. But I had no choice.

As I scraped out the cupcake liners I realized that there was no hope of reusing them. They made a sodden, nasty heap as I worked. Since granulated sugar would be too difficult to incorporate at this point, I used confectioner's sugar, blending as gently as possible. And since I had no more cupcake papers, I used two mini loaf pans and guessed on the baking time. Sigh.

It turned out pretty well, all things considered. And the friend to whom I gave one of the loaves did not complain, so maybe she was sufficiently sugar-deprived that she didn't notice all that was wrong with it.

The Taste of Summer

Blueberries are wonderful. They taste fabulous, go into any manner of baked goods gracefully, plus they're so doggone cute! Purply-blue berries nestled in a cluster among the slender, green leaves always sends a thrill shooting through me. Puckery-sweet taste of summer, one juicy berry at a time.

One of the dating rituals for my pre-husband and me was going to a little local cafe. He would always order a Monte Cristo sandwich and I would always order a blueberry muffin and tea. Fast forward many years and we're happily married, living in our new house in the suburbs. What does my sweet, thoughtful husband get for me for out anniversary? Three darling little blueberry bushes. I was thrilled and loved them. Not as much as my children, but certainly more than the dog who chewed one to nubbins in a fit of pique at being left alone for the day.

Despite my amazingly brown thumb, I've managed to keep them alive all these years and they are now taller than I am, giving handfuls of plump, juicy berries for our cereal each morning. Each spring I feel happiness well up in me as I see the blossoms set on, promising a summer full of fresh fruit and a winter full of muffin baking.

Smart husbands take note: a blueberry bush is the gift that keeps on giving. And giving. And giving. I still tell my husband, "Thanks for the blueberry bushes, honey!"



Jerry, the creative lady over at Food and Photo is hosting a challenge for Summer Flavor desserts. Well this beauty is my entry. What better way to capture the flavor of summer than homegrown blueberries in frozen yogurt. The recipe, of course, is adapted from The Perfect Scoop by the fabulous David Lebovitz.

Blueberry Frozen Yogurt

1-1/2 cups (360 g) plain whole-milk yogurt
3/4 cup ((150 g) sugar
3 cups (340 g) blueberries, fresh or frozen
1 tsp kirsch
1 tsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp freshly squeezed lime juice

In a blender or food processor, blend together the yogurt, sugar, and blueberries. Press the mixture through a strainer to remove the seeds and skin. Pressing thoroughly gives it that lovely purpley color.

Stir in the kirsch and lemon and lime juices. Chill for 1 hour.

Freeze in your ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions.

(If you don't have lemon and lime juice, you can use just one or the other, but I liked the zip of the flavor combo.)

Perfectly Paired

I had a roommate in college who was very opinionated. She firmly knew that there was a right way and a wrong way, and was never shy about expressing it. Softball was the only right and true sport, it was an abomination to pollute a hot dog with anything other than mustard, and the only perfect peanut butter was Skippy.

This set up a little dynamic tension in our room as I am opposed on principal to having balls thrown at me (I am catching impaired), I like ketchup on my hot dogs, maybe a little chopped onion, too, and my favorite p.b. brand is Jif. Skippy has a more roasted peanuty taste, but Jif has sugar added and to a person of my particular palate (sugar fiend) the added sugar makes wonderful things happen with the peanut taste.

My roommate and I managed to find common ground (school, boys, parties, boys, and boys) so we didn't kill each other during our tenure together, but when we parted ways, we were still each firmly convinced of the rightness of our beliefs. After all, you can leave your clothes lying around, let mold grow in the coffee cups, but you don't mess with my peanut butter!

Since adding sugar to peanut butter only improved it's flavor, I was in the delightful quandary of what to do with the extra filling from my Peanut Butter Creme-Filled Cookies. I thought of rolling it into little balls and dipping it in chocolate. Yumm. Sugared peanut butter with chocolate? Oh yes!

But while that thought was percolating in my brain, I happened across a recipe for Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream in The Perfect Scoop, and had a brilliant thought. Why not stir my leftovers into the ice cream? Why not, indeed? I did and it was heavenly! The recipe makes a dense, intensely chocolate ice cream with overtones of peanut butter taste, then as you take a bite you hit a pocket of frozen peanut butter filling. If you like peanut butter cups, this is your dream ice cream!

Peanut Butter Cup Ice Cream
- adapted from The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz

2 cups (500 ml) half-and-half
1/4 cup (25 g) unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
1/2 cup (100 g) sugar
Pinch of salt
1/2 cup (130 g) smooth peanut butter

Peanut Butter Creme Filling

3/4 cup creamy peanut butter
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) salted butter, softened
2 Tbsp half-and-half
1 tsp vanilla extract
1-1/2 cups powdered sugar

(For the dark chocolate color and deep chocolate taste be sure to use the Dutch-process cocoa)

Whisk together the half-and-half, cocoa powder, sugar, and salt in a large saucepan. Heat the mixture, whisking frequently, until it comes to a full, rolling boil (it will start to foam up). Remove from the heat and whisk in the peanut butter, stirring until thoroughly blended.

Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator. While it is cooling, make the creme filling. This is a full recipe, so you'll have leftovers to put in cookies, make peanut butter balls, or make many batches of this fabulous ice cream. Or you could reduce the recipe.

Pour the mixture into your ice cream maker and freeze according to the directions. The last 5 minutes of freezing, stir in the peanut butter filling.

For an over the top, show-stopping dessert, serve it with The World's Best Hot Fudge Sauce.

Take Two And Call Me In The Morning

Long, long ago, in a state far far away, I wanted to be a ballerina. I'm not just talking prancing around the house in a tutu, although I went through that phase. I am talking taped, blistered toes, living in leotards, trying to vomit up dinner (never got the hang of that one, thankfully), and living at the ballet studio.

The goal of every young girl in tights was to be in the annual production of the Nutcracker. The process of getting there was a huge ordeal. The first step was the auditions. My first year I signed up and arrived, along with hundreds of other hopefuls with their mothers. I was assigned a number and had to wait, nervously, as groups of numbers were called. That group would disappear behind closed doors, reappearing 20 minutes later, a few girls with confident smiles on their faces, most looking depressed, and a few in tears. Then the next group would be called and the process repeated. This continued until my number was called.

I went with my assigned group into a seemingly vast room presided over by a terrifying woman with a stick, the ballet mistress. She told us to line up, then proceeded to teach a combination of steps. She showed us once, ran through it with us twice, and then we were to do the combination in small groups for her. Under pressure I just couldn't remember the sequence. I was going left when I should have been jumping, turning when I should have been going right, and generally tripping over my own feet.

Needless to say, I was one of the ones who left that day downcast. I was rejected for two years in a row.

My third year a fellow dancer, older and better than me, gave me some sage advice. After school, she said, go home and take a bath then eat a peanut butter sandwich. It would calm me and help me to focus. I did and it really worked. I got into the production as a toy soldier and loved it.

Ever since, I have been convinced of the soothing powers of peanut butter. When stressed out, a peanut butter sandwich, oozing with smooth, creamy goodness, makes me feel that all's right with the world. So when my husband asked for some cookies to take to an extremely stress-filled meeting at work, I made these delicious cookies, packed with peanut butter. How could life not look a little better when you're munching one of these babies?

Peanut Butter Cream-Filled Cookies
- adapted from Mrs. Fields' Best Ever Cookie Book

cookies:
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 cup quick-cooking oats (not instant)
1 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1 stick salted butter, softened
1 large egg
1 tsp vanilla extract

filling:

3/4 cup creamy peanut butter
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) salted butter, softened
2 Tbsp half-and-half
1 tsp vanilla extract
1-1/2 cups powdered sugar

1- In a medium bowl, combine flour soda, cinnamon, and oats. Mix well with a wire whisk and set aside.

2- Cream sugar and butter in a large mixing bowl at medium speed with an electric mixer. Add egg and vanilla, and beat at medium speed until light and creamy. Add the flour-oat mixture, and blend at low speed until just combined. Do not overmix.

3- Separate dough into 2 balls, flatten them into disks and wrap each tightly in plastic wrap or a plastic bag. Chill for an hour.

4- Preheat oven to 325 deg. F.

5- On a floured board using a floured rolling pin, roll out one disk to 1/4" thickness. Cut cookies with a 2-inch round cookie cutter dipped in flour. (A fancy, fluted cutter is beautiful, but I don't own one). Repeat procedure with the second disk, reworking scraps until all the dough is used. Bake cookies on ungreased cookie sheets 1/2 inch apart for 13 to 15 minutes or until bottoms turn light brown. Transfer immediately to a cool, flat surface with a spatula. This helps the cookies to stay moist on the underside as they cool.

6- When the cookies are cool, mix filling ingredients and spread 1 Tbsp of filling on the bottom side of a cookie. Top with another cookie so tops of the cookies are facing outward. Repeat with remaining cookies and filling.

I didn't measure the filling as I applied it to the cookies and I had some leftover. Tune in to my next post to see what I cleverly did with the leftovers!