A recipe straight from the mid 20th century with a long, long history.
Although American Girl has snipped Maryellen's Christmas story from the most recent edition of her books, they sure do seem to like giving her a lot of winter and holiday releases. For those not in the know, Maryellen's Christmas adventure focused on how Maryellen is growing frustrated with her non-traditional Christmas in Florida. Every movie and holiday card depicts Christmas as a day full of snow, with an evergreen tree, sledding, ice skating... you get the idea. She gets it in her head that she wants to have a "real" Christmas, and ends up going to visit her grandparents in slightly colder Georgia.
After enjoying some of her solo adventure, and getting an opportunity to ice skate, she realizes she misses her family's traditions and wants to go home. The whole story is meant to tie into one of the major themes of Maryellen's series: the 1950's was a period of conformity, but you should follow your heart instead of the crowd.
One of the traditions the Larkins enjoy is eating a coffee cake on Christmas morning, and I've been contemplating trying my hand at making my own pretty much since her books were released. The recipe I'm going to share with you might not be exactly what you're thinking a good coffee cake should be - and very well might not be the exact kind of coffee cake the Larkins cut into while opening presents - but it is an authentic recipe from the period that made a very tasty final product, and got me doing some research into the history of coffee cake. Read on to see what we discovered!
After enjoying some of her solo adventure, and getting an opportunity to ice skate, she realizes she misses her family's traditions and wants to go home. The whole story is meant to tie into one of the major themes of Maryellen's series: the 1950's was a period of conformity, but you should follow your heart instead of the crowd.
One of the traditions the Larkins enjoy is eating a coffee cake on Christmas morning, and I've been contemplating trying my hand at making my own pretty much since her books were released. The recipe I'm going to share with you might not be exactly what you're thinking a good coffee cake should be - and very well might not be the exact kind of coffee cake the Larkins cut into while opening presents - but it is an authentic recipe from the period that made a very tasty final product, and got me doing some research into the history of coffee cake. Read on to see what we discovered!
People have been pairing coffee and cakes pretty much since coffee was imported to the western world. It's generally agreed that the earliest recipes for coffee cake came from countries like Germany and the Netherlands that already made sweet yeasted breads and cakes, and it was simply common sense to pair a sweet cake or bread with a strong cup of coffee in the morning or afternoons.
Now, when I think of coffee cake, I tend to visualize the variety that's really more of a crumb cake: a soft white or yellow cake with a lot of lightly spiced crumble on top. When I started thumbing through my vintage cookbooks looking for a coffee cake recipe, I definitely expected to find instructions for a similar cake, and instead discovered that most of my 1940's and 1950's cookbooks had recipes for a very different kind of coffee cake.
Instead of the crumb cake I was expecting, these cookbooks offered instructions for a yeasted cake that sounded a lot more like the coffee cakes of old than the ones you'll pick up pre-packaged at the grocery store. I have a sneaking suspicion that Valerie Tripp might have intended the Larkin family recipe to be a crumb cake, but I was so intrigued by these bready sounding treats that I decided I had to give one a try.
The recipe I ended up taking for a spin comes from The Modern Family Cookbook by Meta Given, which was originally published in 1942 and enjoyed a reprinting in 1953. It was gifted to us by our friend Sarah - thanks again, Sarah! - and I haven't made anything from it yet, so I was eager to give it a shot. I also liked the idea of trying out a recipe from a book that would have been published when Maryellen's parents were young adults that was still popular in the 1950's, as this could easily be a cookbook they were gifted years before Maryellen was born, found the recipe, liked it, and turned it into a family tradition.
To make this coffee cake, you want to soften one packet of yeast in 1/4 of a cup of lukewarm water with 1/2 teaspoon of sugar. In a separate bowl, combine 4 cups of flour with 1/2 teaspoon of ground mace or cardamom (or a different spice if you're not a fan of either of those.) Scald 3/4 of a cup of whole milk on the stove and add 1/2 cup of sugar and 1 teaspoon of salt. Let the milk mixture cool before adding the yeast and two beaten eggs, mixing it well. To this mixture, add 2 cups of flour and mix well before adding 1/2 of a cup of cooled melted butter. Add 1/2 cup of raisins to the rest of the flour, mix them in well, and then add the flour and raisins to your dough. Remember, it's important to flour your fruit so it doesn't sink to the bottom of your cake.
Once your dough has come together, put it on a lightly floured surface and knead the dough until it's smooth and elastic. The recipe warns not to add too much more flour as you knead the dough to keep it light, and we had good luck with it coming together, partially aided by my mom's stand mixer.
When it's finished, roll it into a ball and place it in a greased bowl. Let it rise in a warm place (the cookbook recommends somewhere that's at least 85 degrees) for an hour and a half to two hours or until it's doubled in size. If your house is cold, Jess recommends turning your oven on as low as it can go while you're making your dough. When you're ready to let it rise, open the door to the oven and put the bowl on the door. Once the oven has cooled down, place the bowl inside and close the door. This will create a warm environment for your yeast to do their thing.
Once it's risen, divide the dough in half and roll out both to fit in two well greased loaf tins. Cover them again and let them rise for about another hour.
While they rise, make your struesel topping: mix 1/3 cup of brown sugar, 1/4 cup flour, 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, and a pinch of salt together, then cut in 3 tablespoons of butter until the mixture is coarse and crumbly. Toss 1/3 of a cup of pecans in and the topping is ready to go.
Brush the loaves with melted butter and sprinkle the struesel over both loaves. The cakes bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes, then a further 15 to 20 minutes at 350 degrees. Our cakes took a while to cook all the way through, and annoyingly were very difficult to check because taking them out of the pan would have meant losing a lot of the struesel, but the dough was too doughy to insert a skewer or cake tester inside to see if the middle was raw. We ended up sacrificing the second, less attractive loaf to see if it had cooked all the way through, and wound up putting them back in the oven for an additional fifteen minutes. But the end result was quite pretty!
Jess insists that this technically qualifies as a cake and not a bread because it has too much fat in it to be bread, but the texture and flavor is definitely more of a bread than a cake. Fortunately, we managed to keep the dough nice and light, so it wasn't super dense, but it definitely wasn't as sweet at the crumb cake version of coffee cake.
Overall, I'm really glad we tried this, and the end result was definitely tasty - not to mention a hit with my Connecticut based taste testers, who admittedly don't get to try out my treats as often as they did before I went to grad school - but wow, this is a lot of work. Yeast is a tricky beast, especially when you're not overly familiar with what temperature things need to be at, or if you're not as familiar deciding if your dough is done based on touch and texture. It also just takes a lot of time, and for that reason I have a hard time imagining that Mrs. Larkin or her mom would be really excited about rolling out this specific recipe every year for Christmas breakfast. A crumb cake is a lot easier to throw together quickly, and requires less baby sitting.
Still, the final product was very tasty, and I thought it was fun trying my hand at something that was a little closer to what the coffee cakes of old would have been like. I also think it's really interesting that these more traditional coffee cakes made it into these cookbooks from the midcentury, a period characterized by its tendency to rely on pre-packaged materials, time saving techniques, and general corner cutting. Maybe next year, we'll look into when crumb cakes began to overtake these sweet yeast cakes as the coffee cake of choice and give one of those a try.
Now, when I think of coffee cake, I tend to visualize the variety that's really more of a crumb cake: a soft white or yellow cake with a lot of lightly spiced crumble on top. When I started thumbing through my vintage cookbooks looking for a coffee cake recipe, I definitely expected to find instructions for a similar cake, and instead discovered that most of my 1940's and 1950's cookbooks had recipes for a very different kind of coffee cake.
Instead of the crumb cake I was expecting, these cookbooks offered instructions for a yeasted cake that sounded a lot more like the coffee cakes of old than the ones you'll pick up pre-packaged at the grocery store. I have a sneaking suspicion that Valerie Tripp might have intended the Larkin family recipe to be a crumb cake, but I was so intrigued by these bready sounding treats that I decided I had to give one a try.
The recipe I ended up taking for a spin comes from The Modern Family Cookbook by Meta Given, which was originally published in 1942 and enjoyed a reprinting in 1953. It was gifted to us by our friend Sarah - thanks again, Sarah! - and I haven't made anything from it yet, so I was eager to give it a shot. I also liked the idea of trying out a recipe from a book that would have been published when Maryellen's parents were young adults that was still popular in the 1950's, as this could easily be a cookbook they were gifted years before Maryellen was born, found the recipe, liked it, and turned it into a family tradition.
To make this coffee cake, you want to soften one packet of yeast in 1/4 of a cup of lukewarm water with 1/2 teaspoon of sugar. In a separate bowl, combine 4 cups of flour with 1/2 teaspoon of ground mace or cardamom (or a different spice if you're not a fan of either of those.) Scald 3/4 of a cup of whole milk on the stove and add 1/2 cup of sugar and 1 teaspoon of salt. Let the milk mixture cool before adding the yeast and two beaten eggs, mixing it well. To this mixture, add 2 cups of flour and mix well before adding 1/2 of a cup of cooled melted butter. Add 1/2 cup of raisins to the rest of the flour, mix them in well, and then add the flour and raisins to your dough. Remember, it's important to flour your fruit so it doesn't sink to the bottom of your cake.
Once your dough has come together, put it on a lightly floured surface and knead the dough until it's smooth and elastic. The recipe warns not to add too much more flour as you knead the dough to keep it light, and we had good luck with it coming together, partially aided by my mom's stand mixer.
When it's finished, roll it into a ball and place it in a greased bowl. Let it rise in a warm place (the cookbook recommends somewhere that's at least 85 degrees) for an hour and a half to two hours or until it's doubled in size. If your house is cold, Jess recommends turning your oven on as low as it can go while you're making your dough. When you're ready to let it rise, open the door to the oven and put the bowl on the door. Once the oven has cooled down, place the bowl inside and close the door. This will create a warm environment for your yeast to do their thing.
Once it's risen, divide the dough in half and roll out both to fit in two well greased loaf tins. Cover them again and let them rise for about another hour.
While they rise, make your struesel topping: mix 1/3 cup of brown sugar, 1/4 cup flour, 1 teaspoon of cinnamon, and a pinch of salt together, then cut in 3 tablespoons of butter until the mixture is coarse and crumbly. Toss 1/3 of a cup of pecans in and the topping is ready to go.
Brush the loaves with melted butter and sprinkle the struesel over both loaves. The cakes bake at 400 degrees for 15 minutes, then a further 15 to 20 minutes at 350 degrees. Our cakes took a while to cook all the way through, and annoyingly were very difficult to check because taking them out of the pan would have meant losing a lot of the struesel, but the dough was too doughy to insert a skewer or cake tester inside to see if the middle was raw. We ended up sacrificing the second, less attractive loaf to see if it had cooked all the way through, and wound up putting them back in the oven for an additional fifteen minutes. But the end result was quite pretty!
Still, the final product was very tasty, and I thought it was fun trying my hand at something that was a little closer to what the coffee cakes of old would have been like. I also think it's really interesting that these more traditional coffee cakes made it into these cookbooks from the midcentury, a period characterized by its tendency to rely on pre-packaged materials, time saving techniques, and general corner cutting. Maybe next year, we'll look into when crumb cakes began to overtake these sweet yeast cakes as the coffee cake of choice and give one of those a try.
Did you try out any new recipes this holiday season?
Funny thing is that Mary Ellen's generation (and after) will be looking forward to vacations in warm climates for the winter.
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