Nurturing my inner... third time's a charm

What is failure really?  I think you only truly fall short when you give up on yourself.  So don't do that.  (And if for any reason you think you might, gather up your best people who believe in you and let them carry you for a bit.  Until you get your footing again.)

I was feeling like a baking failure recently.  What a tricky thing that baking is.  It looks so easy with the massive amounts of cupcakeries popping up all over, but I must just not have a natural knack for the caking world.  So I've had to work at it.  Doesn't mean it's any less worth my time than that which comes easily.  Some of the best things in life are fought for.  Ask any athlete or military general.

The journey to getting this dessert where I wanted it to be was not a short one.  It started back on a bitter, wintry day in January when I was stuck at home in the snow and needed a project.  Then it followed into February for take two and three.  I was not willing to let it go until I got it where I was able to make peace within myself.  I think this will do.

Old-Fashioned Gingerbread

1 stick of butter, room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 cup molasses
2 1/2 cups flour
1 1/2 tsps baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3 tsps ginger
3 tsps cinnamon
1 egg
1 cup hot water

I will note there was a brief encounter with sour cream in my second batch, but that didn't quite work as I wanted it to.  So we'll just shut that chapter and not speak on it again.

A good base.

Some key elements are flour for density, baking powder to give lift, spices to bring on the flavor and salt to enhance them.

Dry ingredients.

After the second try, I figured out the balance to gingerbread.  So I think.  Enough molasses, sugar and spice.  If any of those is too scant, it will come out rather bland.

A couple of the sweeteners.

Into a small bowl I put the brown sugar and molasses.  (You don't have to do that.  I'm not sure why I did.  You can put them in directly to the larger bowl if you wish.)

That stuff is so sticky. And that whole
"slow as" thing really is true.

I creamed the butter and regular sugar in a big bowl.

Thank you electric mixer.

I added the salt, molasses, brown sugar, ginger, cinnamon and egg.  And beat it up a bit more.  Then slowly added in the flour and kept mixing.

Sugar, butter, well, that's gonna be good.

When it was completely blended, the final magical step could happen.

Pretty good already. What more could be done?

Researching all this was so interesting.  The best thing I could find out was to add hot water as the final step.  I think it steeps the spices and really allows their aroma to blast through.

Be careful with mixer. On low or it's going
to go flying all over your kitchen.
(Do not ask how I know this.)

After a minute or so of mixing, a delightful batter will emerge.  And hopefully look as you would have expected.  All gingery and spicy.

Looked accurate to me.

I bought these great professional grade pans at the Williams & Sonoma outlet.  The first batch I baked in a glass dish and it turned out fine, but by the third time I wanted to use the metal and think I liked that best.

It's a good price too.

A light grease with butter will help to avoid sticking.

Just a light coat.

I poured the batter in the 9" x 9" greased pan.

Loved the smell already and it wasn't even
baked at that point.

Into a 350 degree oven for approximately 35 minutes or until toothpicks or a cake tester come out dry.

Okay yeah, the third one in two months
looked promising. This was it!

Cut easily into nine squares.  But some like more rectangular pieces.  Heck, take a large biscuit cutter and make circles if you'd like.

Where's some milk? Or sweet tea?

So you'd like a few more details about the "not successes."  I'll try not to call them failures.  They weren't horrid, just not quite up to my standards.

Batch one:  Slightly bland.  Not really enough spice.  Could have used a bit more sugar as well.

Batch two:  Added sour cream.  Turned out a little too moist, but better spice flavor after I doubled the amount of both the ginger and the cinnamon.  Needed a little less sugar.  (Will I ever get that part right?)

Batch three:  Removed sour cream idea, never to speak on again.  (Which I said earlier, but this time I mean it.)  Adjusted sugars and think I got it.

Topped with powdered sugar that I sent through a small mesh strainer to make sure there were no lumps.  I also find whipped cream is a lovely accompaniment to gingerbread.

Right out of a Victorian holiday.

So what did I do with all the batches of gingerbread?  Since you know I couldn't eat three pans of it.  I put a square of batch one on a red dish and batch two on a white dish and left one of each on the shelves outside my neighbor's doors on my floor.  I emailed them to tell them of my adventure, told them to enjoy and that feedback was welcome.  (One girl wrote me the next day to say that she enjoyed them both, but left them on her kitchen counter overnight.  When she woke up in the morning, the plastic wrap had been carefully peeled back and all the powdered sugar had been licked off the cake that was left.  This had apparently been done by a feline perpetrator with a sweet tooth.  Bad kitty.)

For the slightly bland one, I gave them each
a little cup of caramel sauce to sweeten it up.
Always a workaround.

The third tasty batch landed in some gifts to friends, with some of it shared with their children.  (One person messaged me a pic of them having an afternoon snack.)  Then I felt it was time to move on to other food items.  (Preferably ones I was more easily successful at concocting.  One does need to build up lost self esteem by racking up a few quick victories.)  But I am still glad I worked hard at coming up with a recipe that worked for me.  There is no shame in taking several tries to get the desired result.  That's certainly better than not trying at all.