They say a good friend listens, lends a shoulder to sop up tears, is trustworthy and dependable. Yeah, yeah those are great but this week I’ve seen that a good friend will also schlep a caramel cake from San Francisco to Seattle in her carry-on for the sole purpose of sharing it with you. Now that is a good friend.

I bit into that cake and reveled in its deep caramel flavor. Not one for baked goods that are cloyingly sweet I fell in love with its bitterness and mourned the last bite.

By the next morning I still couldn’t shake the taste. Not knowing yet what to bake but just that I needed to, I turned on the oven. I flipped through a few cookbooks but when the flavor I craved couldn’t be found I hung my head and nearly turned off the now hot oven while trying to rid myself of longing for more caramel cake. In desperation I picked a simple baking book that I admittedly didn’t reserve much hope for. As I scanned the pages the words, “Date Bread” jumped out at me and just like that I was dreaming of dates and caramel together in one tender loaf.

In a pan I swirled flakes of white sugar until it puddled and melted, bubbled and spurted before becoming a pool of a molten deep copper liquid. Smoke rose from the pan and lifted with it a scent of a nearly burnt sugar – my favorite place to bring caramel. Hot water was added and then chopped dates. I held my breath as the cake no longer held any association with the original recipe except that there were dates involved.

The batter was the most unusual and brilliant rust color – the same that stops me as I walk past Fall leaves that have just turned.

I sat by the oven with the light illuminating the cake hoping for lift, for edges that gently pull from the sides and for the bitter caramel to permeate the entire loaf.

“Success!” I declared as I pulled the cake from the oven. While warm I poured more caramel on top which then proceeded to harden and crackle – which was not exactly the plan. We didn’t let the first cake go to waste but the next day more cream was added and butter melted in until a deep glaze filled out the cake beautifully.

Ivy and I eagerly ate a still-warm piece and she too declared it a success by licking her plate and saying, “Dis is yummy, mama!”

We shared with the boys before I wrapped up a little piece for my friend. While I didn’t have to travel to San Francisco and back to share this cake with her I think she still appreciated it all the same.

Salted Caramel Date Loaf

adapted to the point of being unrecognizable from Jim Fobel's Old-Fashioned Baking Book: Recipes from an American Childhood

 1 cup sugar

1 cup (about 6 ounces) chopped and pitted dates

1 cup hot water

6 tablespoons butter

1 1/2 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

3/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1 large egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the glaze:

2 tablespoons butter

1/4 cup dark brown sugar

1/4 cup heavy cream

1/4 teaspoon (or so) good sea salt, for finishing

Cake:

Grease an 8 1/2" x 4 1/2 " loaf pan and pre-heat your oven to 350*F.

In a medium sauce pan melt the sugar until deeply caramelized and just starting to smoke. The caramel should be deep amber in color and smell sweet with a bit of bitterness. Stir the sugar around gently until it all is melted and caramelized. Turn off the heat and carefully add the water, chopped dates and butter. Stir everything together until well combined. If the caramel hardens just return the pan to low heat until it all melts. Let this mixture sit for 15 minutes.

Add the caramel mixture to a large bowl. To that add the flour, salt and baking soda. Stir until just combined before adding the egg and vanilla extract. Mix well.

Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pan and bake for 45-50 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean.

While the cake is still warm and in the pan make the glaze by melting the butter and the brown sugar together in a sauce pan over medium heat. Once the sugar and butter have melted add the cream and stir until combined.

Using a skewer or a toothpick poke holes all over the top of the still-warm loaf. Pour the hot caramel glaze over the top.

Let the glaze settle into the cake for 10 minutes before removing it from the pan and letting it cool on a wire rack.

Top the glazed cake with a sprinkle of sea salt - any nice crunchy salt will do.

As with most cakes this one is best the day after baking.

Chicken tagine with preserved lemons and olives prepared at a cooking class at the Atlas Kasbah near Agadir.

It always seems to catch me by surprise. Before I realize it we have managed to find ourselves in the midst of the holiday season with tasks of getting a Christmas tree, wrapping presents and baking cookies taking up what ever spare time we can find.

I love it. Everything about this season fills me with joy. The generosity that abounds, the daily question of “how many days until Christmas?” from my very eager children, and the excitement of seeking that perfect gift.

This year we’ve decided to go homemade. I’m thrilled and overwhelmed with possibilities. My mission is to create a gift that is not only homemade but also very appreciated and will be used.

I’m pretty excited about this homemade gift from the kitchen. It’s unique, it’s incredibly delicious, easy to make and beautiful to receive. For me it carries with it memories of my time in Morocco. It took a visit to the country for me to fully embrace this ingredient but now that I’ve jumped on board I’m making up for lost time.

Preserved lemon is one of those flavors that is hard to distinguish but you’re glad it’s there. Both tart and sour but not overly so, floral without a soapy or perfumed aftertaste, a truly unique flavor that any one who loves food would be delighted to add to their pantry.

After only a few minutes of work sitting before you is a beautiful jar filled with vibrant lemons. The lemons themselves won’t be ready for thirty days but the recipient can spend that time pouring over recipes looking for ideas on how to use them. Myself? I like them on almost anything. Even Delancey has been known to throw them on pizzas. I added them to my prune and sausage stuffing for Thanksgiving and everyone seemed quite pleased. Tomorrow I’m planning a fennel salad, with green olives and preserved lemons. No special occasion, just my lunch and I’m pretty excited about it.

Here’s to hoping these lemons actually end up as gifts for someone other than myself.

Preserved Lemons

adapted from Paula Wolfert, The Food of Morocco

5 lemons

1/4 cup salt, more if desired

½ teaspoon cumin seeds

5 coriander seeds

2 bay leaves

Have ready a sterile 1-pint canning jar.

Quarter the lemons from the top to within 1/2 inch of the bottom, sprinkle salt on the interior of the lemon, then reshape the fruit.

Place 1 tablespoon salt on the bottom of the mason jar. Pack in the lemons and push them down, adding more salt, and the optional spices between layers. Press the lemons down to release their juices and to make room for the remaining lemons. (If the juice released from the squashed fruit does not cover them, add freshly squeezed lemon juice — Leave some air space before sealing the jar.

Let the lemons ripen in a warm place, shaking the jar each day to distribute the salt and juice. Let ripen for 30 days. To use, rinse the lemons, as needed, under running water, removing and discarding the pulp, if desired — and there is no need to refrigerate after opening. Preserved lemons will keep up to a year, and the pickling juice can be used two or three times over the course of a year.

Gently shake the jar each day to distribute the salt.

* I adore these WECK jars for canning. Use the lemons and the recipient is still left with a great gift.

Mother’s Day is approaching rapidly and while I’ve already unwrapped my present in the form of two beautiful and large vegetable beds that my sweet husband made for me, I have the perfect handmade gift for the mother who likes to spice things up in the kitchen.

Vanilla Salt. It’s unique, incredibly easy to make (get the kids in on the action) and adds an exotic flavor to dishes – sweet and savory.

Simply combine the seeds from one vanilla bean with 1/4 cup kosher salt. Feel free to use more expensive salt here – like Fleur de Sel for example or Maldon if you really love Mom.

Package in a sweet container and tie with a satin ribbon – trust me, she’ll appreciate it.

And if she asks, “What the heck do I do with Vanilla Salt?!”

You kindly reply, “Well, my dear, you can add it to the top of your chocolate chip cookies just before baking, sprinkle it in your buttercream, add it to any baked good as a “regular” salt replacement, sprinkle on seared scallops or candied carrots, etc.”

Then she’ll hug you and kiss you and tell you that you’re the best there is. And then you’ll smile and nod.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you dear mothers out there. Our days are long, the snot is plentiful but the rewards are too many to count.

And to my dear mother who taught me to not only stop and smell the roses but to revel in how incredibly beautiful they are. You and your life are a reflection of His beauty. I love you.