the sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Alternatively, if you plan to use handheld beaters, put it into a medium mixing bowl. Using a sharp knife, split the vanilla bean in half from tip to tip. Run the back edge of the knife down each half of the pod, scraping out the tiny black seeds. Dump them into the bowl with the sugar. Using your fingers, rub the seeds into the sugar, taking care to break up any clumps. Discard the spent pod. (Or bury it in a container of sugar to make vanilla sugar.)
Add the flour, baking powder, and salt to the vanilla sugar. Beat on low speed for a few seconds, just to combine.
Cut the butter into pieces and add it to the dry ingredients, along with the remaining buttermilk. Beat on low speed until the ingredients are moist, then increase the speed to medium and beat until well combined, about 1 minute. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula, then add the egg mixture in three doses, beating well after each addition. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, and beat for 30 seconds on medium speed. The batter should be thick but airy, very pale and smooth.
Scrape the batter into the prepared pan, and smooth the top with a rubber spatula. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Cool the cake in the pan on a rack for 15 minutes. Run a thin knife around the edge of the pan, then remove the sides. Position a wide, flat plate upside-down atop the cake, and invert the cake onto the plate. Remove the bottom of the pan and the parchment. Place a wire rack over the cake, and turn upright onto the rack. Cool completely.
Â
NOTE: This cake is best on the day itâs made. But if you have any leftovers, I find that they make for a nice âdessertâ after breakfast.
Â
Yield: 8 servings
GLAZED ORANGES
4 navel oranges, at room temperature
½ cup sugar
Â
Using a small, sharp knife, supreme 3 of the oranges. To do this, slice off the top and bottom ¼ inch of each one, revealing the flesh at either end. Working with 1 orange at a time, stand the fruit on one end and cut closely down the sides, trimming away and discarding the peel andwhite pith. Holding the peeled orange over a medium bowl, carefully cut between the membranes to remove the individual wedges of flesh. Let the wedges, called âsupremes,â and their juice fall into the bowl. Discard the core.
Juice the fourth orange: it should yield about ½ cup juice. If it comes up a little short, add a bit of juice from the bowl of supremes to make up the difference. Pour the juice into a heavy 2-quart saucepan, and add the sugar. Place over medium heat, and cook, stirring frequently, until the sugar has dissolved and the mixture bubbles and reduces to deep orangeâgolden syrup, about 10 minutes. Add the supremes, stirring them gently in the syrup, and cook until warmed through, 1 to 2 minutes.
Serve immediately, with wedges of vanilla bean buttermilk cake and spoonfuls of crème fraîche.
Â
Yield: 8 servings
QUITE THAT MAGNIFICENT
T o most people, I guess, turning twenty-one is all about booze. To me, turning twenty-one was all about coconut. Booze is nice, but coconut is chewable, and when push comes to shove, I will always like eating better than drinking. Everyone has their priorities.
For the first two decades of my life, I absolutely hated coconut. I associated it primarily with the scent of cheap tanning oil, the kind that comes in brown plastic bottles at the drugstore, bottles the color that your skin is supposed to turn, apparently, upon application. I always hated those bottles. My mom occasionally had one kicking around in the cabinet under the bathroom sink, and after one trip to the pool, the whole thing would be slicked with a thin film of that pungent oil, a magnet for grit and dirt. I hated opening the cabinet, because it reeked of coconut. My aversion was especially pronounced because, as a redhead,
Add the flour, baking powder, and salt to the vanilla sugar. Beat on low speed for a few seconds, just to combine.
Cut the butter into pieces and add it to the dry ingredients, along with the remaining buttermilk. Beat on low speed until the ingredients are moist, then increase the speed to medium and beat until well combined, about 1 minute. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula, then add the egg mixture in three doses, beating well after each addition. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, and beat for 30 seconds on medium speed. The batter should be thick but airy, very pale and smooth.
Scrape the batter into the prepared pan, and smooth the top with a rubber spatula. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Cool the cake in the pan on a rack for 15 minutes. Run a thin knife around the edge of the pan, then remove the sides. Position a wide, flat plate upside-down atop the cake, and invert the cake onto the plate. Remove the bottom of the pan and the parchment. Place a wire rack over the cake, and turn upright onto the rack. Cool completely.
Â
NOTE: This cake is best on the day itâs made. But if you have any leftovers, I find that they make for a nice âdessertâ after breakfast.
Â
Yield: 8 servings
GLAZED ORANGES
4 navel oranges, at room temperature
½ cup sugar
Â
Using a small, sharp knife, supreme 3 of the oranges. To do this, slice off the top and bottom ¼ inch of each one, revealing the flesh at either end. Working with 1 orange at a time, stand the fruit on one end and cut closely down the sides, trimming away and discarding the peel andwhite pith. Holding the peeled orange over a medium bowl, carefully cut between the membranes to remove the individual wedges of flesh. Let the wedges, called âsupremes,â and their juice fall into the bowl. Discard the core.
Juice the fourth orange: it should yield about ½ cup juice. If it comes up a little short, add a bit of juice from the bowl of supremes to make up the difference. Pour the juice into a heavy 2-quart saucepan, and add the sugar. Place over medium heat, and cook, stirring frequently, until the sugar has dissolved and the mixture bubbles and reduces to deep orangeâgolden syrup, about 10 minutes. Add the supremes, stirring them gently in the syrup, and cook until warmed through, 1 to 2 minutes.
Serve immediately, with wedges of vanilla bean buttermilk cake and spoonfuls of crème fraîche.
Â
Yield: 8 servings
QUITE THAT MAGNIFICENT
T o most people, I guess, turning twenty-one is all about booze. To me, turning twenty-one was all about coconut. Booze is nice, but coconut is chewable, and when push comes to shove, I will always like eating better than drinking. Everyone has their priorities.
For the first two decades of my life, I absolutely hated coconut. I associated it primarily with the scent of cheap tanning oil, the kind that comes in brown plastic bottles at the drugstore, bottles the color that your skin is supposed to turn, apparently, upon application. I always hated those bottles. My mom occasionally had one kicking around in the cabinet under the bathroom sink, and after one trip to the pool, the whole thing would be slicked with a thin film of that pungent oil, a magnet for grit and dirt. I hated opening the cabinet, because it reeked of coconut. My aversion was especially pronounced because, as a redhead,
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