On most American Thanksgiving tables, pumpkin pie is as much a presence as the turkey centerpiece. In modern forms it may appear as a flan, a cheesecake, or a frozen whipped delight.
In a Victorian-era cookbook, “The Art of Cookery: A Manual for Home and Schools” by Emma P Ewing, I found a recipe for a pumpkin pie that surprised me for two reasons: the heavy use of molasses and no cinnamon.
The cookbook belonged to Minnie P. Weygandt, the cook for Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of The Christian Science Monitor. Minnie had inscribed her name, the date (Aug. 24, 1899), and the place, “Pleasant View,” Concord, N.H., in the flyleaf. Pleasant View was the home of Eddy at the turn of the 19th century and one can assume that Minnie used this cooking guide quite a bit as she prepared meals for at least a dozen people.
Being a cook for a large household in the late 1800s was no easy task.
“When I was cooking for Mrs. Eddy then we did not have the convenience of a gas stove,” writes Minnie in her reminiscences that can be found in the archives of The Mary Baker Eddy Library in Boston. “All the cooking was done on a very small coal range, which was later supplemented by a two burner gas plate kept on the end of the stove. Many times we worked over that inadequate stove until eleven and twelve at night during the canning and preserving season.” (p. 40)
That sounds like a nightmare.
As it was close to Thanksgiving when I asked the Mary Baker Eddy Library staff to bring me Minnie’s copy of “The Art of Cookery” from the archives, I naturally looked up the recipe for pumpkin pie.
Cinnamon, nutmeg, all spice, or even pumpin pie spice is not present at all in this simple version of pumpkin pie. I was a little skeptical that I had copied the recipe down wrong when I saw “1 tablespoon ginger” in my notes, but I followed through. As most early recipes do not provide oven temperatures, considering the wide range of stoves in use, the recipe simply instructed, “Bake until pie is brown in the center.”
I consulted a couple of other cookbooks to come up with a satisfactory oven temperature, and used a knife test just to be sure the pie was finished after it had cooked for nearly an hour.
If you are not a huge fan of pumpkin pie, you may prefer this version. The molasses cloaks the pumpkin flavor and the absence of cinnamon may trick your taste memories away from declaring,”Oh, I’m eating pumpkin pie. It must be Thanksgiving.” The ginger is not overpowering at all, and a smooth finish of whipped cream pairs very nicely with the molasses flavor.
With the arrival of Libby’s canned pumpkin in 1929, came the annual tradition of baking a Thanksgiving pumpkin pie with cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. Molasses got the boot.
This earlier version calls for stewed pumpkin. I ended up roasting my pumpkin before puréeing it. You’ll also want to let it sit in a sieve for a few minutes to let the extra juices run out.
Victorian pumpkin pie may not be as fashionable as mini pumpkin flans swimming in caramel sauce, but if you show up at Thanksgiving dinner offering one of these, you’ll be so retro you’ll be hip.
Victorian pumpkin pie
2 cups stewed pumpkin purée
1 cup rich sweet milk (I used sweet condensed milk)
1/2 cup molasses
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon melted butter
1 tablespoon ginger
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs, beaten lightly
Sift flour over bottom of pie shell. Bake until pie is brown in center. (I started the oven at 425 degrees F. for 10 minutes, then reduced the heat to 325 degrees F. and baked for 45 minutes. When a knife inserted near the center came out clean, it was done. Cool on wire rack for 2 hours. Serve immediately with whipped cream or refrigerate.)
This post is part of the First Saturday program at The Mary Baker Eddy Library, which is sponsoring a month-long look at 19th-century foodways.
On Sunday I celebrated pre-Thanksgiving. And what’s Thanksgiving without desserts? I am all about Thanksgiving desserts (of course). At home, we usually take a break between dinner and dessert, maybe go for a walk to let the turkey and stuffing settle and make room for pies and fudge and cheesecake. (Oh my!)
I wanted to make a play on pumpkin pie… something good for a buffet table… thus, mini pumpkin pies!
The problem with pie is the crust (dun dun dunnn) – it’s kind of a throwaway component. When we were little, my sisters and I always left the pie crust on our plates. But graham cracker crust is something else entirely. Is there a single person out there who doesn’t love graham cracker crust? No, no there is not. Because it is fantastic and easy to make! And this graham cracker crust takes its graham crackery-ness to a whole new level.
That’s because Safeway, for once, had what I needed and more. Next to the regular graham crackers there sat a box of gingerbread graham crackers. Done and done. Best graham cracker crust ever.
And of course you must have whipped cream. A pumpkin pie without whipped cream is like a day without sunshine. And there is no such thing as too much whipped cream. (My super mind powers tell me that Sister2 is dying over this picture – the kid used to get hot chocolate without the hot chocolate, aka a cup of whipped cream and a spoon.)
Mini pumpkin pies with graham cracker crust
1-1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs (put your crackers in a bag and crush them, or you can be all high-tech and use a food processor)
1/4 cup brown sugar
6 tablespoons butter, melted
Mix all the ingredients together and press them into the bottoms of greased muffin tins (or you can do them in cupcake wrappers). I had enough for about 30 mini pies.
3/4 cup sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
2 large eggs
1 can pure pumpkin
1 can evaporated milk
Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Mix all the ingredients together until smooth. Spoon filling into muffin tins.
Bake at 425 degrees F for 10 minutes, then turn the heat down to 350 degrees F, and cook for 20 minutes more.
Remove from the oven. To test for done-ness, shake the pan a bit, pies should not be jiggly in the center.
Cool completely, then run a knife around the edges and remove from the pan.
Related post on Eat. Run. Read: Pumpkin-ginger bundt cakes with browned butter glaze
One year for Thanksgiving, I added chestnuts to my Aunt Katy's classic stuffing recipe because I love their uncommon taste and texture – slightly sweet, nutty, and chewy. I also threw in some dried organic cranberries to spice things up a little bit.
A few notes: Peeling fresh chestnuts is a huge chore! At first I thought it was odd that all the chestnut stuffing recipes called for canned chestnuts but after wrestling with the hairy little buggers for over an hour, I now understand why. I have not done a taste test comparison of the fresh vs. canned but my guess is that it is probably worth the extra effort required for fresh chestnuts. They sure are pretty, though.
Any white bread will do. Some people like the lighter sandwich type bread and others go for slightly crustier loaves. I used two sweet loaves, as opposed to sourdough. Don't skimp on the herbs! I threw a ton of fresh parsley, sage and thyme in and it lent a lovely herby flavor. The thyme is particularly wonderful.
I used a combination of chicken stock and egg to achieve the desired moistness level. I also did a vegetarian version for my brother-in-law who does not eat dairy and my sister-in-law who does not eat meat! The only changes were that I sautéed the celery and onions in olive oil, wet the stuffing with vegetable stock, instead of chicken, and did not dot the top with butter before baking. The veggie version is very good and a little healthier for you, too.
Herbed chestnut stuffing with cranberries
1 lb. white bread cut into one inch cubes
1 cup coarsely chopped roasted or boiled chestnuts
Half a stick of butter (4 tablespoons)
1 - 1-1/2 cups of chicken stock
2 small to medium sized onions, chopped
4 ribs of celery, finely chopped
2 eggs, well beaten
1/2 cup dried cranberries or other fruit, dried currants, etc.
1/2 cup chopped flat leaf parsley
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
2 teaspoons chopped fresh sage
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Cut a large X on the flat side of each chestnut (be sure to go all the way through the protective shell) then place the nuts on a thick baking sheet and pour a cup or two of water on the tray. Bake the chestnuts, flipping them over once, for 15-20 minutes. Leave them in the oven and shell and peel a handful at a time (they will be hot and a bit hard to handle). Chop the chestnut meats coarsely.
2. If you don't have time to let the bread cubes get stale by sitting out, place them in a single layer on a thick cookie sheet or two and bake at 300 degrees F. for 10-15 minutes, until golden.
3. Melt the butter in a frying pan or saucepan and add the onions and celery. Cook on medium heat until softened, 4 to 5 minutes. Turn off the heat and fold in the herbs, mixing well to combine.
4. Add salt and pepper to taste. Fold in the chestnuts and dried cranberries.
5. Pour this mixture into the cubed dry bread and stir to combine.
6. Add the stock to the stuffing mixture and stir well until it is moist all over but not soggy.
7. Add the egg if you want to give the cooked stuffing a bit more substance.
8. Pour the stuffing into a buttered casserole pan or baking dish and dot the top with butter.
9. Bake until the top gets crusty, 30 to 45 minutes.
Related post on The Garden of Eating: Baked Stuffed Squash, Three Ways
Sweet potatoes are a foregone conclusion on the Southern Thanksgiving table. I would never consider serving mashed white potatoes at the big meal. For most of my life, I only had sweet potatoes at Thanksgiving, though a pie may have snuck in at some other time during the year. I have now discovered the joy of sweet potatoes, though, and eat them year-round in all sorts of ways, sweet and savory. But on Thanksgiving, there is just no question.
I grew up with the marshmallow topped version, which never really did much for me. I think that may be the reason I never explored sweet potatoes much further. When it came my turn to contribute to the Thanksgiving feast though, I worked out a dish of Sweet Potatoes with Cider, Maple and Orange that has been the standard on our table for many years. But every once in a while, change is good.
There is however, a strange feeling that comes up. I’ve made that same sweet potato dish for a decade at least, and everyone always tells me how much they enjoy it. And when I presented this new version, it got raves. “Best sweet potatoes I’ve ever had.” I love it when the family enjoys what you cook and take great pleasure that I have done right by them. But then there is that niggling sense in the back of my mind, "What was so bad about the ones I’ve been cooking you for all these years?"
Southern Candied Sweet Potato Casserole with Pecan Streusel
Serves 8 – 12, depending on how much food is on the table!
Yes, these potatoes are rich. I don’t want to hear it. It’s Thanksgiving, live a little!
For the Sweet Potatoes:
8 medium sweet potatoes
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1 cup bourbon [editor's note: if seeking a substitution, try 1 cup apple cider]
1/4 cup cane syrup or sorghum
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 cup cream
For the Streusel:
1 cup pecans, toasted and coarsely chopped
2/3 cup sugar
6 tablespoons dark brown sugar, packed
1/4 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup all-purpose flour
2/3 cup chilled unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
For the Sweet Potatoes:
Peel the potatoes and slice them 1/4-inch thick ( a mandoline or food processor makes quick work of this). Melt the butter with the brown sugar, bourbon, cane syrup and salt in a large skillet that will hold the potatoes, stirring frequently. Bring to a boil and cook for 5 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat, drop in the potato slices and stir to coat. Layer one half of the potato slices in a well-greased 9 by 13 inch baking dish. Pour over half of the syrup from the skillet. Layer the remaining potatoes in the dish and pour over the rest of the syrup.
The potatoes can be cooled, covered tightly and refrigerated overnight at this point. When ready to bake, remove form the fridge for at least 15 minutes.
For the Streusel:
In a food processor, process the sugars, the cinnamon, salt and flour for about 1 minute. Add butter; pulse 10 to 15 times, until the mixture is crumbly. Stir in the pecans. Refrigerate the topping, covered, in a medium bowl until ready to use. It can be made up to a day ahead.
When ready to bake, heat the oven to 350 degrees F. Pour the 1/2 cup cream over the potatoes, drizzling it into all the nooks and crannies. Spread the streusel evenly over the top of the potatoes. Bake the casserole for one hour, until the potatoes are soft and you can slide a knife easily through the center, the sides are bubbling and the streusel is golden brown. You can cover the dish loosely with foil if you feel the top is getting too brown too early.
Related post on The Runaway Spoon: Sweet Potatoes with Cider, Maple, and Orange
Some American families insist on green bean casserole made with Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup at their Thanksgiving families, calling it a once-a-year indulgence wrapped in fond memories.
Here is a healthier alternative: One made with fresh green beans (not canned), fresh mushrooms, and a mix of Greek yogurt and sour cream.
Paprika and cayenne pepper, along with Parmesan cheese, help to temper the tanginess of the Greek yogurt. If you really don’t like the flavor of Greek yogurt, trying using 1/4 cup of Greek yogurt and 1/4 cup of mayonaise instead.
In place of fried onion rings, these caramelized breaded onions will bring a sweet note to the dish. No added salt is used. To speed things up, I used frozen green beans. I really don’t have a problem with frozen vegetables, they are picked and packed at their ripeness. Sometimes fresh beans can get tired looking if they are exposed to the open air too long in the market produce section.
This healthier version may not be the ooey-gooey decadence you crave, but you can satisfy that yearning with dessert.
Healthy green bean casserole
1 lb. frozen, cut green beans, thawed
1 tablespoon butter
1 medium onion
1 cup bread crumbs
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon paprika
1/2 cup nonfat sour cream
1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt
4 ounces (about 2 cups) sliced Shitake mushrooms
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Melt 1 tablespoon butter in a large skillet. Peel and slice onion in half across its thickest part. Set the onion flat and slice, creating C-shaped slivers. Cook the onions over medium heat about 8 minutes, until translucent and edges are just beginning to turn brown.
Meanwhile, combine bread crumbs, cayenne pepper, and paprika. Set aside.
In a separate bowl, combine green beans, sour cream, Greek yogurt, mushrooms and Parmesan.
When the onions are done, stir into bowl with bread crumbs. Combine until onions are fully coated.
Spread the green bean mixture into a casserole dish. Spread the breaded onion slices over the top in an even layer, including any loose bread crumbs.
Bake for 25 minutes. Serve warm.
Related posts on Kitchen Report: Roasted butternut squash with kale, Wild rice and fruit salad, Roasted Brussels sprouts with walnuts and figs, Victorian pumpkin pie, Alternative to green bean casserole: Peas and pearl onions, Green bean casserole, Cape Cod cranberry orange relish
Butternut squash is one of my favorite fall foods. I buy whole squashes at the last farmers markets, and when I see pre-cut pieces in the store, I buy those up too. I make pasta sauces and quick soups, I roast and mash. Get creative and go simple.
I generally find myself with a surfeit of squash as I tend to get a little over-excited when they are in season. As I write this, I see there are three large squashes on my counter, and I know there is some leftover soup in the refrigerator.
Though butternut has its own unique flavor, I frequently use it interchangeably with pumpkin and even sweet potato, so I wondered how it would work in a pie, would it just be the same as standard pumpkin or sweet potato, or would there be a difference? And a little bit to my surprise, there is a quite a difference. Butternut squash is earthier, sweet, but with a rougher edge.
I worked with my basic recipe and added woodsy, warm spices that really highlight the unique flavor of the butternut, particularly aromatic clove. This pie turns out a beautiful dark umber color, rich from the spices and squash. A dollop of whipped cream, flavored but not overly sweetened with grassy sorghum is a perfect accompaniment. Serve this at Thanksgiving, or any autumn meal. I promise, your guests will be surprised and intrigued – and pleased.
For the pie
pastry for one 9-inch pie, homemade or store bought ready-to-roll
1 1/2-pound butternut squash
1 cup light brown sugar
1/3 cup heavy whipping cream
1 tablespoon bourbon [editors note: may substitute 1 teaspoon vanilla extract]
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
For the sorghum whipped cream
Makes 1/2 cup
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
1 tablespoon sorghum [editors note: may substitute molasses or honey]
For the pie
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Place a piece of foil on the rack of the oven (to catch drips) and place the butternut squash on top. Roast the squash for 45 minutes to an hour, until it is completely soft when you squeeze it (wearing an oven mitt of course). Remove the squash from the oven, and holding it with a folded tea towel, cut it in half.
Scoop out the seeds and fibers and discard, then scrape the flesh into a wire mesh strainer set over a bowl. Make sure there is no skin attached. Using a spatula, press the flesh through the strainer completely. There are no solids left behind. This will give you a smooth purée perfect for pie. Leave to cool.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Fit the pie crust into a 9-inch pie plate, trimming the edges as necessary. Line the crust with waxed paper and fill with beans or pie weights and blind bake the crust for 10 minutes until partially cooked. Remove the paper and weights and set aside to cool.
Beat the eggs and sugar together with a whisk. Add the cooled squash purée, the heavy cream, the bourbon and the spices. Beat until everything is thoroughly combined and smooth. Scrape the filling into the pie shell and bake for 50 – 55 minutes, until the center is set with just a little wobble to it.
Shield the edges of the pie crust to prevent overbrowning about halfway through the cooking. Cool the pie completely, then cover with plastic wrap and chill for several hours or overnight.
Serve chilled with a dollop of sorghum whipped cream.
For the whipped cream
Pour the sorghum and the cream into a small bowl. Using a hand mixer, beat the cream to stiff peaks form. Serve immediately.
Related post on The Runaway Spoon: Butternut brioche
Green bean casserole smothered in a can of mushroom soup and topped with crunchy fried onions makes its annual appearance every fourth Thursday in November when Americans bow their heads to give thanks over a sagging dinner table.
Here are two variations of green bean casserole recipes we've featured in the past that are popular with our readers:
Traditional green bean casserole: Americans have loved this dish since Campell's Soup introduced it in 1955. The green beans in this recipe swim in a can of mushroom soup, are splashed with Worcestershire sauce, and are topped with crispy fried onions before being baked in the oven.
Read the history and get the recipe.
Fresh green bean casserole: This recipe uses fresh mushrooms, Parmesan cheese, and even invites you to make your own crispy onion straws.
Take up the challenge and get the recipe.
Green bean casserole alternative: For those who dare to offer something besides green beans, you may like peas and pearl onions. Quick and easy to make on the stovetop, peas and pearl onions bring a nice splash of green to the Thanksgiving table.
Tomorrow, we'll share yet another recipe for green bean casserole that uses Greek yogurt.
Two weeks ago, the very last farmers market of the year happened to fall on the same day as our final CSA (community support agriculture) veggie pick-up. I was thinking of this double whammy as rather tragic until superstorm Sandy descended.
But the losses and devastation Sandy left in her wake gave me an injection of fresh perspective – while sigh-worthy, the lack of fresh veggies pales in comparison to losing a home, a car, or even just electricity for more than a couple of days. We were extremely fortunate here in upstate New York – barely even lost power and all the trees that might have fallen at our house had been taken down already. I am hoping for a speedy recovery for the millions who got walloped.
Meanwhile, that final CSA box left us with five pounds of truly gorgeous scarlet turnips that I was not sure what to do with. Scarlets are a mildly sweet variety of turnip that I'd never encountered before. So I turned to my favorite recipe resource, Food Blog Search and turned up this whimsically named recipe for a turnip "puff."
The ingredients looked appealing to me – I like the idea of adding brown sugar and nutmeg to play up the turnips' natural sweetness. And I certainly won't say no to anything that is topped with buttered breadcrumbs. It also looked pretty easy so I gave it a whirl.
I made a few small changes to Kitchen Parade's recipe, namely that I boiled the turnips with a potato since I'd read that this can help to remove any bitterness – then I mashed the potato along with the turnips (why not, right?) I also added a pinch of cinnamon and cloves to go along with the nutmeg. And after roughly mashing the turnips and potato, I added the rest of the ingredients and just used my immersion blender to blend it all together. The end result was nice: a hearty baked turnip mash that is mildly sweet and mildly spiced.
Recipe via Kitchen Parade
3 pounds purple-topped turnips (about 6 large) or rutabagas (about 1 large)
2 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
1/2 teaspoon white pepper
1/2 cup panko or dry bread crumbs
2 tablespoons melted butter
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. and bring a medium sized pot of salted water to a boil. Peel the turnips or rutabagas and cut into roughly equal-size quarters and cook at a gentle boil until soft.
2. Mash the turnips or rutabagas in a large bowl – you can do this by hand, with an immersion blender, or in a food processor. Add the eggs, butter, flour, brown sugar, baking powder, salt, pepper and nutmeg and combine well. Transfer to a buttered casserole dish.
3. Combine the crumbs and butter and sprinkle evenly on top and bake until lightly browned on top, about 35-40 minutes.
When I think of mangos, my first thoughts are of tropical flavors. I’m pretty sure the mango belongs somewhere in that song with the lime and the coconut. I think of seafood and summery flavors, like fish tacos and spicy mango salsa (with mango margaritas on the side). I think of mango creamsicle smoothies, chilled mango cucumber soups, or even barbecue bacon mango pizzas. It’s certainly never occurred to me to combine mango with the aromatic spices of the holiday season, like cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, or cloves.
So, when the National Mango Board offered to send me a sampling of mangos along with some ideas for pairing mangos with festive holiday flavors, my interest was piqued. I accepted their offer, eager for the opportunity to experiment with one of my favorite fruits in a novel way.
The shipment of perfectly ripe mangos arrived last week. Along with the selection of vibrant mangos, the National Mango Board provided a sampling of seasonal spices and a few recipe cards for inspiration. One of those recipe cards grabbed my attention in a way I couldn’t resist: mango upside down cake.
This festive spiced mango upside down cake is a definite keeper. The cake is moist and flavorful with a satisfying texture, the result of folding beaten egg whites into the batter; an extra step worth taking. And I’m fairly certain I could be happy eating nothing but the tender mango and caramelized top of this cake for the rest of my life. Seriously, the gooey top layer of this cake is something that epic poems should be written about.
This cake would work well any time of year, though I think it would be make a perfect addition to any Thanksgiving or Christmas dessert spread. The glazed top and artful mango star make it truly show-stopping and worthy of the festive season!
Today’s Focus on Technique – Folding in Egg Whites
Beaten egg whites can be folded into a variety of dishes, such as cake, mousse, souffle, and waffles for a lighter, fluffier result. The goal of folding in the egg whites, as compared to just stirring them in, is to maintain as much of the air, which has been beaten into the egg whites, as possible.
To begin, start by carefully separating the yolks from the whites, taking care not to allow any yolk to mix with the whites. (This can prevent the egg whites from getting properly light and fluffy.) Beat the egg whites using an electric mixer at medium/medium-high speed until soft peaks form. To incorporate the egg whites into your batter, start by adding about 1/3 of the beaten egg whites.
Holding your spatula in an almost horizontal position, gently turn the mixture over the egg whites until the egg whites are incorporated. (This first 1/3 helps to lighten the batter, making it easier to incorporate the remaining 2/3).
Add another 1/3 of the mixture, gently lifting and turning the batter over the egg whites. Add the remaining 1/3 of the egg whites, using the same gentle lifting and turning maneuver, just until the egg whites are blended and no longer. Over-mixing the egg whites into the batter will diminish the lightening effect of the beaten egg whites.
Spiced Mango Upside Down Cake
Recipe slightly modified from the one provided by the National Mango Board
1-1/2 sticks (12 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened (divided)
1/2 cup light brown sugar
1 large mango, peeled, pitted and sliced 1/4-inch thick
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon orange zest
3 eggs, separated
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup mango nectar or mango puree
1/3 cup milk
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a 9-inch round cake pan, set aside.
In small saucepan, melt 1/2 stick of butter and stir in brown sugar, simmer for about 2 minutes. Pour mixture into prepared cake pan and top with sliced mango, creating a circular fan pattern.
In medium bowl, stir together flour, baking powder, salt, cloves, and cinnamon. Set aside.
In another bowl, using an electric mixer, beat remaining 1 stick softened butter, granulated sugar and orange zest on high until pale yellow and fluffy, about five minutes. Add whole egg yolks, one at a time until well blended. Add vanilla. Decrease speed to low and add half of flour mixture. Mix in mango nectar (or mango puree) and milk and then remaining flour mixture.
In another bowl, beat egg whites until soft peaks form. Fold one third of the egg whites into the batter. Repeat with another third of the egg whites. Finally, fold the remaining third of egg whites into the batter, taking care not to over-mix.
Carefully pour cake batter over mangos, spreading evenly. Bake for about an hour, or until toothpick inserted into center of cake comes out clean. Cool in pan for 15 minutes then invert cake onto plate. Cool completely.
Garnish with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream and candied orange peel, if desired.
Related post on The Gourmand Mom: Coconut crisps
RELATED: Seven heavenly holiday pie recipes
Goodbye Twinkies. Hostess Brands Inc. announced on Friday, Nov. 16 that it was "winding down operations" and filing for bankruptcy, it said in a statement. If you can move past the demise of a pop food cultural icon (what kid growing up in the 1970s and '80s did not have Twinkies or Ho Hos in their lunchbox?), and also the somewhat shocking revelation that "Hostess Brands will move promptly to lay off most of its 18,500-member workforce," you will find that SuzyQs and her friends live on in homemade forms.
Food bloggers have long taken up the challenge of recreating at home dishes that they love in restaurants, and this extends to tortilla chips, Cheeze Its, Oreo cookies, Pop Tarts, and Twinkies.
Here's a sampling from 'round the Web:
Leite's Culnaria reminds readers that President Clinton "dropped a Twinkie in the millennium time capsule back in 1999." Her Twinkies, look like the real deal, though, even if they take 1 hour and 15 minutes to make.
One blogger's confession on The Family Kitchen might explain why Hostess Brands has gone under: "I don’t buy my children twinkies or hostess cupcakes (poor kids)," writes Jamie. "And last week, we were in the grocery store when they saw the display in the store. When they begged me to buy the ho-ho’s, I said no (I don’t like the artificial ingredients and preservatives), but thought it might be fun to try making them at home...." It turned out the going was a little tough, though, as Jamie writes, "it’s challenging to roll up the cake without breaking it. I suddenly understood why I hadn’t been seeing blog posts on homemade ho-ho’s popping up all over the internet."
Yep. But check out her recipe, if the photos are true, she conquered the task.
Over at Krissy's Creations, this happy wife of a pro ball player has cracked the cuteness code with her homemade Hostess Cupcakes. Hostess Cupcakes are the one thing that I see a lot in bakeries around town. The trademark looping swirls on top are the give away – because if it looks like a Hostess Cupcake, it will taste like a hostess cupcake, right?
In A Cozy Kitchen Adrianna really wants you to succeed in making your own homemade Ding Dongs. She walks you through all the steps! Don't give up, even though she calls it a "weekend project." It's OK. We're nostalgic already for our shrink wrapped desserts. We'll do anything.
Saying goodbye to brands that we know and love is a hard thing. Do you remember the collective shock and grief following the disappearance of Postum, that noncaffinated hot drink? No?
Well, maybe when a few more generations roll through elementary school they'll just shrug their shoulders when asked about Hostess Cupcakes as they munch on their kale chips.
But remember, Twinkie, there's always the time capsule.