Orange Julius Shake

Aren’t cakers complicated? On the one hand, we’re all about convenience and ease when it comes to our food. So why do we have recipes for homemade Bailey’s Irish Cream, Skor Bars and Shake n’ Bake coating? After all, isn’t it easier just to go out and buy the damn things?

Easier, yes. Cheaper, no. And a caker penny saved is a penny that can towards getting your tips frosted. Why, just look at this Orange Julius. At the food court, you’d pay close to five bucks. This cost me less than two bucks to make. (Four bucks if you count the glass I bought at Goodwill.) And yes, it tastes just as good as the original, if not better. After all, it’s made with two essential caker ingredients: love and tightassedness.

True confession: My first job was working at an Orange Julius. I had to wear brown polyester. And I got fired. Consider this recipe my revenge. And yes, it’s best served cold.

1/3 can orange juice concentrate
1/3 cup skim milk
1/3 cup water
½ teaspoon vanilla
¼ cup sugar
5 or 6 ice cubes

Combine ingredients in blender then add ice cubes.


Source: Culinary Creations Down the Line, Interprovincial Pipeline Company

Pink Thing Winners!

Hosting contests is stressful because I always think, “What if I don’t get any entries?” So I was over the moon with the entries I received in my Pink Thing contest. I immediately called Mother and said, "See? I do have friends."

You’ve all been waiting with bated breath, and now I’m happy to announce the winner…or is that the winners?

Yes, that’s right. I chose two entries. Congratulations to veg-o-matic and bluerhondda! You’re both getting signed copies of my book, Fruit. No need to pinch yourselves. (But please email me at cakercooking at gmail dot com with your mailing addresses so I can send you the book.)

Thanks to everyone who entered. You made my Pink Thing proud.

Speaking of pink, check back Monday for something orange. And frothy.

Here's veg-o-matic's inspired Pink Thing entry (sung to the tune of "Think Pink.")

Pink Thing!
Pink Thing—it’s a Caker Ooh la la!
Pink Thing!
The dessert with a certain je ne sais pas!
Jell-O’s out, pie’s passé,
Cake’s de trop and déclassé.
And there is not the slightest excuse
For chocolate mousse
Or soufflé!
Pink Thing!
One spoonful will make your taste buds thrill!
Pink Thing—why, it’s even better than Whip ‘N Chill!
This most delicious Caker dish is
Even popular in Beijing
It’ll make you dance a Highland Fling—
Pink Thing!

And here's bluerhondda's entry, which rhymes "lick" with "dick" and "raunchy" with "paunchy." Quite the skill set.

Pink Thing's easy

Pink Thing's cool

Pink Thing's like a Caker fool*

Pink Thing may sound

kinda raunchy

(and it makes your tummy paunchy)

But if you like

desserts to lick

it's one step up

from Spotted Dick!

* fruity dessert

Idiot Cake

As a kid, I loved fruit cocktail. Yes, there were never enough cherries, but there were plenty of mushy, unidentifiable white and beige cubes swimming in a thick syrup made of 98% sugar. What more could a cavity-ridden child ask for?

A favourite of cakers everywhere, Idiot Cake (a.k.a. Fruit Cocktail Cake) is the softest, fruitiest and squishiest cake you’ll ever eat. The cake itself is pretty special, but once you pour that hot milk, sugar and butter mixture overtop, you’re left with something that resembles a wet sponge. Only it tastes better than a wet sponge. Like, a lot.

As to why it’s called Idiot Cake, who knows? Maybe you’re an idiot if you screw up the recipe. Or you’re an idiot if you don’t like it. Or maybe you’re an idiot if you don’t make the cake (which you should, because it’s delicious).

Shredded coconut alert! Do NOT attempt to eat this cake without a toothpick handy. Otherwise, your co-workers might catch you flossing your teeth with the corner of your business card. Then you’ll really look like an idiot. Trust me on this one.

1½ cups white sugar
½ cup corn oil
2 eggs
Beat and mix well.
Sift:
2 cups flour
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons soda
Add: 1 14-ounce can fruit cocktail. Mix well.
Pour above mixture into a 9x13 pan. Greased and floured. Bake at 350° for 45 minutes.
Topping:
½ cup butter
¾ cup white sugar
½ cup milk
Boil together for 1 minute. Remove from heat and add 1 teaspoon vanilla. Pour over cooled cake in pan while still hot. Sprinkle with ½ cup coconut. This also makes a delicious dessert (see note) served with ice cream, whipped cream or Dream Whip.

Note: “Also makes a delicious dessert?” What other reason would you eat this? For breakfast? Actually, now that I think about it….

PS: I’ll announce the winner of my Pink Thing contest this Friday!

Source: Women’s Ministries Cook Book, Calvary Pentecostal Church

Pink Thing

The bad news? We’re at the end of Unfortunately Named Caker Recipe Month. The good news? I’ve got something pink.

Like most cakers, I enjoy entertaining. Once the crockpot has been unplugged, the paper plates crammed into the garbage and the Taster’s Choice has been served, there’s nothing I like more than turning to my guests and asking, “Who’s got room for some Pink Thing?”

Look, there’s no reason to feel ashamed – everyone should indulge every now and then. Pink Thing is creamy, tasty as heck and hits the spot. Toss in some nuts and you’re in seventh heaven. Take it from someone who knows – Pink Thing delivers!

A few months back, I gave readers the chance to win copies of my novel, Natural Order, along with a handwritten recipe card. Fellow blogger Mimi was one of the winners and I sent her the recipe for Pink Thing. (Check out her results.) Naturally, I had to taste Pink Thing for myself – and now I’ve got another contest lined up!

Simply leave a comment that uses Pink Thing in a sentence. I’ll pick the best one and send the winner a copy of my first book, Fruit. I’ll even sign it so you get an extra 50 cents on eBay. Make sure you leave your comment by next Sunday, June 2. (And yes, you can opt in as "Anonymous.")

Good luck!

1 can cherry pie filling
1 can Eagle Brand milk
1 can pineapple tidbits
1 carton Cool Whip
1 ½ cups pecans, chopped

Mix and refrigerate overnight. Spoon into pudding dishes or parfait glasses. Serves 8.

Source: London Newcomer’s Cook Book

(Yep, this is the same gem that gave me “This is Terrible – the Soda is Overwhelming!” Cherry Pudding.)

Make Do Squares

It's week three of Unfortunately Named Caker Recipes and I can hardly stand the excitement. This week’s recipe doesn’t have the same visual associations as Bun Spread or Corn Ring, but I think these squares are about as unfortunately named as caker recipes get.

Nothing says “low expectations” more than Make Do Squares. I’m not saying that cakers take a lot of pride in our cooking, but most of us at least put some effort into faking it. Call these squares “Cereal Celebration Crunchies.” Call them “Chocolate Cheerio Squares.” Just don't call them what they are – which is pretty much a brown cube of I-simply-don't-give-a-crap.

If you do make Make Do Squares, avoid bringing them to funerals, bridal showers or anniversary parties. You’ll send a mixed message which will leave people thinking you’re a) mean b) lazy c) suicidal or d) all three. Instead, save them for yourself for those times when you’re tired of making do with your job, your weight or your oppressive, suffocating relationship with Mother.

1/3 pound butter or margarine (see note)
12 ounce package chocolate or butterscotch chips
1 cup peanut butter
8 ounce package walnuts
1 bag miniature marshmallows or 3 to 4 cups of your favourite cereal (ie Captain Crunch, Cheerios)

Melt the butter, chips and peanut butter over medium heat. Add vanilla and remaining ingredients. Press into buttered 8 x 12 pan. Cool. Cut into squares.

Note: I screwed up the recipe and accidentally used 2/3 pounds of butter. They turned out a little, er, slick. But that's okay. I made did with them.

Source: Simply Delicious! A Collection of our Favourite Recipes, The United Way of Leeds and Grenville

Corn Ring

Well, here we are – week two of Unfortunately Named Caker Recipe Month. This week’s gem features an ingredient that cakers often refer to as “liquid gold.” That's right, I’m talking creamed corn.

Although most cakers don’t like vegetables, we make an exception for creamed corn. Mainly because it has sugar. It’s also less work to chew since the niblets are all soft and mushy. And, being imaginative people, cakers are also fascinated by the shapes creamed corn makes as it spreads across our dinner plates. ("Look, mother! A goat!")

Although it’s unfortunately named (and ugly as a one-eyed toad), Corn Ring is a dish I’d proudly serve to company at Sunday dinner. If I had Sunday dinners. Or company. It’s basically a moist, oat-laden meatloaf wrapped around a steaming hot lake of creamed corn goodness. And who wouldn’t dive right into that?

Now that I stop to think about it, the corn doesn’t make the “ring.” The ground beef does. The corn makes the hole in the centre. So really, this should be called Corn…uh, never mind. I just realized this dish was about to fall into a new category: Really Unfortunately Named Caker Recipes.

1 ½ pounds ground beef
1 cup uncooked Quaker oats
2 eggs, beaten
1 cup milk
¼ cup chopped onion
2 ½ teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon prepared mustard
1 14 ounce can creamed corn
Combine all ingredients except corn thoroughly. Pack firmly in 1 quart casserole dish. Make a hole in centre and put in corn. Bake at 375° approximately 1 hour. Serves 6.

Source: The Cooking Secrets of First United Church Women, Port Credit, Mississauga

Bun Spread

It’s Caker Cooking’s two-year anniversary!

It seems like only 730 days ago I posted my first recipe for Mock Apple Pie. Since then, there have been a few tears, a few laughs and more than a few pounds. (It’s gotten so bad, I’m wearing Spanx in the shower these days.)

To celebrate my milestone, I’m christening May as Unfortunately Named Caker Recipe Month. Every week I’ll feature a caker recipe that – while delicious – has a name only a mother could love. Provided that mother is blind, deaf and delusional. I’ve posted some unfortunately named recipes before (remember Dump Cake and White Stuff?) but the recipes I’m featuring this month have a special place in my heart.

On that note, I can’t think of a better way to celebrate my anniversary than by spreading my buns.

Er. That didn’t sound good. Let me try again. 

Who doesn’t love a tasty bun spread?

Uh, take three.

When was the last time a bun spread made your eyes roll back in your head?

See what I mean? Regardless of how you say it, stringing the words “bun” and “spread” so close together is pretty much guaranteed to garner some awkward coughs, gossip at the next Euchre night or, if you're lucky, a phone number. My advice? Leave out the “bun” and just say “spread.” As in, “Hot damn, Dolores – now that's what I call a spread!”

Now doesn’t that sound better?

See you next week for another unfortunately named caker recipe!

1 can tomato paste

1 can shrimp

½ cup cooked bacon or ham

½ teaspoon Italian spice

1 can mushrooms

½ cup grated cheese

¼ cup brown sugar

¼ cup green pepper

¼ cup onion

Mix all ingredients together. Spread on bun halves. Bake at 350° for 20 minutes This mixture can be frozen.

Editor's note: Fresh buns make all the difference in the world.

Source: Cook Book of the Mount Royal United Church, Saskatoon