Raw, noun: 13. unrefined sugar, oil, etc.
Bundt Cake Saturday! (On Thursday. Nine months late.)
Music: KT Tunstall
Oh, team. So behind on life, it's not even funny. Witness this creation from late last summer, just now finally getting its moment in the spotlight. Slowly making progress on the backlog of bundts.
Earth Day and the morning is fresh and the bugs are buzzing in the garden out the window. I love it. This is a relatively light and easy and, er, "peachy" little recipe. You can whip it up in no time, clip a few buds from the bouquet on your dresser, and call it good. So won't you please step away from your computers for a second and join me in baking a late-summery
VANILLA PEACH BUNDT CAKE
Yeah, not necessarily my go-to flavors (excuse me, where's the chocolate?), but a frothy confection nonetheless, and a light alternative to some of the more gooey creations we've seen of late. This'll be great for summery picnics to come. Just in case you're planning ahead, that is - live music season is so just around the corner. (!!!)
Shamelessly rocking the cake mix on this one again. (Get over it.) How else are you supposed to knock one of these puppies out before making it to the park to save blanket space by 10am?? If you want something more noble/fresh/vegan/less trans-fatty, I trust that you know how to google up a few substitutions. (Remember, people: I come from a land where Jello counts as salad. What do you expect?)
1 package vanilla cake mix
1 package instant vanilla pudding
1 cup vanilla yogurt
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup water
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 cup chopped peaches (fresh or frozen, take yer pick)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees; grease and flour your bundt pan. In a large bowl combine cake mix, pudding, eggs, yogurt, oil, water and vanilla extract. Beat for 2 minutes at medium speed, making sure not to do it too early, thus pissing off your cranky neighbors. Fold in chopped peaches; stir lightly. Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake in preheated oven for 45-50 min. or until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes before inverting and removing cake from pan.
Dude. So easy.
Frosting-wise, well, you know how I feel about that: the more, the better. So I whipped up a quick vanilla frosting (basic recipe combing confectioners' sugar, vanilla extract, a little butter and maybe a little milk or cream, depending on what suits you) and drizzled that action over the cake.
I had Lisianthus - some of my favorite flowers, ever - dying in a vase on my desk, so I plucked a few and added them to the cake, dappled by a few blue cornflowers, as well. It looks like a bizarro wedding cake or something, doesn't it? At the time I made this particular creation last summer, my good buddy was just going through a relatively ugly break-up with his long-term girlfriend, and I was chewing through a new dude whose initially stellar prospects were quickly losing their luster, so we took one look at the finished product and decided it was our "anti-wedding" cake. Just because you're not necessarily the marrying type doesn't mean you can't rock a lush-creamy-flowery little dessert now and then, right?
Cheers, bitches. Happy Earth Day.