Honey and vanilla pound cake

Sometimes a cake just calls to me, and no matter how busy I am or what I've got to get done, baking and eating said cake moves to the top of the list.

Of course, boring old life, like work and errands, can sometimes thwart the best of intentions. I started thinking about this honey and vanilla pound cake on Tuesday and didn't get around to it until today. See, I've actually been busy...working. Good grief! I guess a part of me idiotically envisioned working for myself as having an endless series of weekends piled on top of each other. Taking leisurely swims, poking around the farmer's market, finally cleaning out the hall closet. (I guess I mixed up working for yourself with being a kept woman.) It turns out, when you don't have a steady paycheck coming in, all of a sudden you're a much harder worker. And things like cakes and cookies have to take a back seat.

Not for long, though. After I got through a big project for the week, I was able to focus on important things, like softening the butter and making sure I had good vanilla in the pantry.

Like most of Ina's recipes, this one is simple, rich, and satisfying. Also like most her recipes, it's best not to dwell too long on the ingredients: the fact that this smallish loaf contained two sticks of butter, more than a cup of sugar, and four eggs made me hesitate momentarily in my tracks. After a few days of eating decadently (the way everyone should when they are on vacation), I wondered if I ought to be putting my efforts toward something more austere. But then I couldn't think of anything healthy to make that sounded remotely as wonderful as this pound cake, which I envisioned golden, delicate, and perfumed with my favorite scents: lemon, honey, and vanilla.

Sure enough, when the cake emerged from the oven, I knew I had made the right choice. Doesn't it look homey and inviting?

The recipe suggests you let it cool until, well, cool. I'm a free thinker, though, and so after a very brief wait, I sliced off a thick piece. There's no rule against warm cake in my house; in fact the rule is: eat it.

The cake was delicious and moist, with a tender crumb and a perfect, ever so crisp crust.

I wouldn't say this cake is overly endowed with the flavors in its name, though. If I were going to make it again (and I will), I might add more honey and more vanilla. My version tasted of lemon, if anything, but that may be because lemon zest is one of the things I don't measure, along with minced garlic and grated parmesan. So the recipe called for a teaspoon and I probably added two.

One of the many nice things about a simple pound cake is that it can be delightful on its own, or it can fill out another dessert. I can see making this for guests and serving it with ice cream or sorbet, or even using it in a trifle if you were so inclined. I also plan to eat it for breakfast tomorrow. I'm pretty sure that in the breakdown of cake categories (dessert/snack/breakfast), pound cake can be justified on all occasions. At least that's the way I'm looking at it.

Everything tastes better on vacation

On the 21st, the husband and I celebrated our five year anniversary. To mark the occasion, we decided to head south to Santa Cruz for a few days.

For those of you who have never been, Santa Cruz is a lovely place, like a piece of Hawaii dropped in Northern California. We rented a fabulous house half a block from the beach. While it was too chilly to swim, it was perfect for strolling, and sitting and watching the waves, both of which we did every day, at least twice. The beach was barely populated, which, to two people who live at a busy intersection of a crowded city, felt like a gift.

There's nothing Frances loves more than the beach.

Just being near the water makes you feel relaxed and hungry and tired, in a good way. Throughout our trip, which was all too short, there was a lot of wine drinking, mystery reading, and snoozing on the patio. We also ate some great food, including teriyaki ribs and mac salad at the Aloha Island Grille, which was close enough to walk to. And lunch at the harbor. Who doesn't enjoy looking at boats while eating a juicy cheeseburger and crispy fries?

We cooked in the evenings. At the end of our block was a little Mexican market, where one night I picked up a handful of ingredients for grilled chicken with orange, lime, and cilantro. I topped it with guacamole and served it with red-pepper rice, cooked in a pot. I was relieved it turned out as well as it did. A girl is spoiled after 17 years with a rice cooker.

The night after, the chicken made its way into fajitas.

The first night, though, was the best dinner of the trip. The husband had it in his mind that he wanted surf and turf, something splurgey for our anniversary. He grilled New York strip steaks and I sauteed some scallops wrapped in bacon. We made a colorful salad and drank plenty of wine to apologize to our arteries which were hardening by the minute.

We also watched The Lost Boys, which some of you may know is based on the city of Santa Cruz. Set in the mid-80's, it's about a band of mullet-sporting vampire thugs on motorcycles (led by a bleach-blond Kiefer Sutherland) that terrorize an amusement park in "Santa Carla." It's a gloriously bad movie, which we enjoyed every second of, while slurping Haagen Dazs ice cream bars.

What is it about being on vacation--particularly near the ocean--that makes everything you eat taste like the best thing in the world? I suppose it has to do with your state of mind: you're happy, and you're feeling indulgent.

I've heard people say they can't relax easily when they go away, that they can't forget about things at home. I, on the other hand, have always been good at going on vacation and checking out of my dull, day-to-day worries. It's like my regular life disappears behind me into the San Francisco fog.

For a few days, we imagined quite seriously that we lived in Santa Cruz. We got used to the floor being perpetually gritty from sandy feet and paws and woke up in the morning listening for the sound of the waves. On the way home, we discussed how easy or hard it might be to get a job there. I suppose living there would be different than being on vacation. But it's an idea we're not done with yet.

Where's the Hungry Dog?

I'm on vacation in Santa Cruz. Headed home tomorrow though and will post about our beach and food adventures soon.

Love,
Hungry Dog