Mardi Gras King Cake with Cream Cheese Filling

KING CAKE

WITH CREAM CHEESE FILLING

Patsy R. Brumfield, The Southfacin’ Cook

Note: I made several King Cakes a few years ago from a recipe by a noted New Orleans chef. It was good but not as good as my mouth requested. I’m trying this from a NOLA home-cook. It doesn’t require the “braiding” dough technique, so it may be a bit simpler. Let’s give it a go!

 

COOK TIME: 30 mins

DOUGH TIME:  2 shifts, total 2 hours 15 mins

 

EQUIPMENT:  Measuring gear, stand mixer, various small bowls for ingredients, large mixing bowl, rolling pin or equivalent*, plastic wrap, microplane, juicer, cooking spray, large baking sheet, small (3-inch wide) oven-proof ramekin, rubber spatula, whisk

 

 

INGREDIENTS

 

For the dough:

½ cup warm water (about 110 degrees)

2 packages active dry yeast

2 teaspoons sugar

4-5 cups flour

½ cup sugar

2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg

Zest of one lemon

½ cup warm milk (same as water)

½ cup melted unsalted butter, cooled

5 egg yolks

Option: King Cake Baby or dried kidney bean

 

For cream cheese filling:

1 8-oz. package cream cheese, room temp

1 cup confectioners’ sugar

2 Tablespoons flour

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 teaspoons lemon juice

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon

 

For icing:

2 cups confectioners’ sugar

4 Tablespoons lemon juice

1 teaspoon vanilla

Purple, green, yellow sanding sugar

 

LET’S GET STARTED

Take a deep breath and prep ingredients for the dough. Don’t just jump into this. Be prepared, as the Scouts say. *If you don’t have a rolling pin, use a beer bottle or glass, or your hands to shape the dough. It’s your cake!

  1. In a cereal bowl, combine warm water with yeast and 2 teaspoons sugar. Mix and let sit about 10 minutes. You’ll see the mixture get fluffy and rise. If not, your yeast is dead. Get more.
  2. In bowl of stand mixer, combine 4 cups flour, sugar, salt, nutmeg, lemon zest, milk, melted butter, egg yolks and yeast mixture.
  3. Using the dough hook, knead until the dough pulls away from the sides of the mixture (about 5 minutes). If the dough is very wet, add up to one more cup flour (I added ½ cup).
  4. Turn dough out into large bowl coated with cooking spray. Turn dough in the spray to cover, then cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let dough rise until it’s doubled, about 90 minutes.
  5. In mixer or with hand whisk, mix cream cheese, confectioners’ sugar, flour, vanilla and lemon juice. Set aside.
  6. On the countertop, using your hands and/or a rolling pin (I used both) roll dough about 30 inches long and wide enough to spread cream cheese mixture evenly, (let’s say about 6-7 inches wide, leaving about half inch of bare dough on rear side). Spread the cream. Roll dough into a cylinder like you’d shape a jelly roll – start at front edge creating a lip away from your body and gently roll that lip toward the back-side of the dough. When you’re about ¾ to the back, grasp the back lip and pull it over the rolled front.
  7. Line baking sheet with parchment paper. Place your oven-proof ramekin in the middle and gently wrap the dough – seam side down – around it in whatever circle you can arrange. Wrestling the dough is a little tricky – just do your best. Tuck the ends under or together to form a ring. Cover with a towel and let rise another 45 minutes.
  8. Preheat oven to 350. Bake the cake about 30 minutes or until golden brown. Carefully remove the hot ramekin and let the cake cool about 30 minutes. Lift the edge and push the “baby” into the underside.
  9. Make the icing by mixing ingredients together, mixer or by hand. Cover the cooled cake with the icing, either completely or with a drizzling motion from a spoon or whisk held 3-6 inches above (my preference).
  10. Sprinkle sugars in whatever artistic fashion strikes you. I like a scattered design, rather than solid stripes.

SPRINKLES SUGGESTION: If you can’t find sand sugar, colored sprinkles will do. Or – my preferred method – create your own sand sugars using 1/3 cup “raw” sugar per color, one color at a time, mixing with food coloring and drying in a 170-degree oven about 15 minutes. Don’t dawdle getting it into the oven or the sugar will melt! Spread out “wet” sugar on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Allow to cool before sprinkling.

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This Week’s Southernism, Monday, February 1, 2021

 

“Garlic is divine. Few food items can taste so many distinct ways, handled correctly. Misuse of garlic is a crime…Please, treat your garlic with respect…Avoid at all costs that vile spew you see rotting in oil in screw top jars. Too lazy to peel fresh? You don’t deserve to eat garlic.”

—Anthony Bourdain,

Kitchen Confidential: Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly

Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter

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This Week’s Southernism, Monday, January 25, 2021

“Failure is a part of success.”

—Hank Aaron

Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter

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This Week’s Southernism, Monday, January 18, 2021

“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.”

—Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Art: Deborah Fagan Carpenter

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A BLACK PASTOR, A WHITE DEACON, AND A NEW DAY

 

A black pastor, a white deacon, and a new day

Reverend Andrew W. Gilmore, African-American Pastor of Greater Tulane Missionary Baptist Church and Christian Love Missionary Baptist Church in New Orleans in the 1970s, was the proud father of a beautiful daughter. A Caucasian Methodist Minister in town was the proud father of a handsome son. The two ministers preached a Christian Gospel of brotherly love, equality, and racial reconciliation. Their children took their fathers’ sermons to heart.

When the ministers’ children began dating, the clergymen found their faith tested. How equal are white and black? Is interracial dating acceptable? And if so, is it advisable? Racial tension gripped the city in those years. Danger lurked, as it did in much of the South in the ‘60s and ‘70s.

One Saturday as the two young lovers enjoyed a picnic on the shore of Lake Pontchartrain in the city, they found themselves surrounded by a group of ne’er-do-well, white males. The brigands beat the young man severely, breaking both of his arms, rendering him helpless to defend his girlfriend. Coke bottles were then broken and wielded to slice repeatedly her angelic face.

Word spread fast throughout the city. African-Americans, raging on the verge of rioting, gathered at night on the campus of the University of New Orleans. Emerging in the darkness of the explosive evening appeared Reverend Gilmore. Striding to the stage he began:

“Many of you know our daughter. She is in intensive care tonight. Extensive plastic surgery is required to repair her face. I am speaking calmly, but inside I am boiling. Anger at wrong is right. We are right to be here tonight. Both of her boyfriend’s arms are broken, set in casts. It will take time for our loved ones to heal. But, they will not get well any sooner if we hurt other people. Dr. King says we must return love for hate. We must love our enemies and pray for them. Our anger must not lead us to hate, but to change our world. Non-violent change. Violence cannot defeat evil. Only love can do that. I thank you for coming out tonight.  I want us to pray. Then I want us to go home and keep praying. We will resist hatred peacefully. Love will win. God will win. Evil will lose; unless, it takes root in our hearts. Then evil will win. Let us pray. Let us love our enemies. Let us win their hearts, and usher in a new day.”

Kay and I were the only white members of Rev. Gilmore’s congregation in the ‘70s. We loved Reverand and Mrs. Gilmore, and they loved us. When it came time for me to be ordained into the ministry, I wanted our Pastor to preach my ordination sermon. Who else, but a man like this?

Roundaway Baptist Church in Sunflower County, Mississippi, Kay’s home church in the Mississippi Delta, was proud of our ministry in the ghettos of New Orleans, where police were forbidden to enter except in pairs. Church leadership beamed when we asked to be ordained in Kay’s home church.

Until.

Until it was learned that I had invited the Reverend Andrew W. Gilmore, our New Orleans Pastor, to preach my ordination sermon. The Reverend, Mrs. Gilmore, and two or three carloads of our African-American sisters and brothers from our Louisiana church were planning on driving the 5-hour distance to the Mississippi Delta to attend the worship service and dinner-on-the-grounds to follow.

There was a problem.

Churches were not integrated in Mississippi in 1977, certainly not in the Mississippi Delta, where African-Americans had long labored in cotton fields as slaves, Freedmen, sharecroppers, and tenant farmers, but never as members of White churches. In Mississippi most white congregations had never even allowed blacks to clean, nor cook, in their segregated churches. A meeting of the Roundaway Church membership was called.

According to my mother-in-law’s testimony to Kay afterwards, many in the church thought the ordination service should be scheduled somewhere else. People became rather exercised over the issue of carloads of African-Americans arriving for the Roundaway Baptist Church worship service. Emotional back-and-forth erupted!

My father-in-law, a long-time deacon in the church, never said a word about it to us, but this is the story we received:

“It sort of got ugly,” Kay’s mother told her sometime after the meeting. “The church appeared to be moving in the direction of recommending that Randall be ordained somewhere else, like maybe his own home church in McComb.” She didn’t say a whole lot more; but did add this word: “Until your daddy spoke!”

“Your daddy, hon, can be a passionate, strong-willed man; but I don’t know when I’ve seen him that passionate, even tearful, voice quivering, with such powerful words. But I’ll tell you this. When he finished, they voted to have the ordination.”

—Dr. J Randall O’Brien

 

 

art: Deborah Fagan Carpenter

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This Week’s Southernism, Monday, January 11, 2021

“While today’s terrible display of terror and meanness shakes us, let’s remember: John Ossoff, Jewish son of an immigrant and Reverend Warnock, first Black Senator from Georgia, will join a Catholic POTUS and the first woman, Black + Indian VP in our nation’s capital. God bless America.”

— Stacy Yvonne Abrams,

Twitter post

Surise photo: Ulla Mansdorfer

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HAPPY NEW YEAR 2021!

“The horizon leans forward, offering you space to place new steps of change.”

 —Maya Angelou

Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter

 

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This Week’s Southernism, Monday, December 28, 2020

“He was always embracing the larger humanity. He felt that. He believed it. He played it. He taught it.”

—Wynton Marsalis speaking to John Dickerson on 60 Minutes about his father, Ellis Marsalis, who died of pneumonia caused by Covid-19

 

Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter

 

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Holiday-cookie baking brings loved ones closer, if only in memories

Holiday-cookie baking  brings loved ones closer, if only in memories

By Patsy R. Brumfield

The Southfacin’ Cook

            When I have to wipe the flour off my glasses, there’s been much baking underway. It’s my therapy in The Time of Covid, but it’s also my personal gifts for neighbors’ kindnesses and friends’ remembrances when, as Jackie DeShannon used to sing: “What the World Needs Now Is Love, Sweet Love.”

            After two days in the kitchen, I’ve got the “sweet” down pat. And I must admit that while the baking requires some effort, as I scan across my counters where dozens of cookies are cooling, it’s all been worthwhile. I need that, don’t you?

            First, I started with 6 dozen sugar cookies, sprinkled with holiday-colored sugar. Next came extra-nutty peanut butter cookies. For these recipes, I depend on my America’s Test Kitchen cookbooks, which I’ll use as exercise weights after the holidays. The ATK recipes are where I start with dishes outside my usual repertoire. These folks have tested recipes scores of times and every whichaway to Sunday. I am lazy enough to agree they must be right – they have a TV show, I don’t.

            However, my Gold Standard for oatmeal cookies comes from a dog-eared index card with my mother’s handwriting in pencil. It’s dated 1962 and is from our McComb next-door neighbor Gladys Pickett, who was quite a cook herself when she had time from working very hard setting type at the local newspaper, The McComb Enterprise-Journal, where I started my career in the mid-1960s.

            In other columns I’ve written about her husband Wilbur’s famed hot-sauce, which he brewed over an open fire on the Hughes School playground between our houses on Burke Street. Wilbur’s sauce-brewing was driven outdoors, I recall, by its potency and wallpaper-wilting properties.

            I also recommend Gladys’ recipe for Yeast Rolls, a legendary delicacy I try to assemble for occasional holidays. Looking at 2020, it looks like I’ve got time for them, so my entire family will benefit. My son, who’s been the beneficiary of other recent cookie baking, will probably groan at the sight of all this largesse, but we’ll both resolve to get to that 2021 exercise regime we’ve promised. Right.

            It’s at times like these I think about our North McComb neighborhood and all the joy it brought so many of us growing up. The DeCoux(s), the Morgans, the Ingrams, the Simmonses and so many more. And we were so fortunate as teens to be just one block away from the famed “White House,” where all the “cool kids” hung out.

            In later years, my mother hosted a grown-up party before all of us headed to Christmas Eve church at the little Episcopal Church of the Mediator in downtown. Many years later, a friend told me the joy at one of these get-togethers saved him from a self-destructive holiday depression.

            I’ll miss so many people this year – who can’t be together for reasons of health, germs or a call to the Hereafter. Of course my family members who fit in that category. I’ll especially miss my friend Billy Neville, who so graciously welcomed me to Jackson nearly seven years ago. He and I were frequent Christmas-church goers together and he was an amazing fount of history on our hometown. And my friend Joe Rutherford from Tupelo, with whom I worked at the Daily Journal more than a decade on top of a friendship stretching from the late 1960s. Both gone but not forgotten.

            And so, I’ll raise a glass to them at the appropriate time. But I’m also raising a cookie for everybody else. Oh, the trouble is: Which one?

            Happy holidays, friends.

GLADYS PICKETT’S OATMEAL COOKIES (1962)

(Forgive me, Gladys. I’ve taken a few modern liberties, but I don’t think you’d disapprove.)

EQUIPMENT: 3-4 large baking sheets, stand mixer, 2-Tablespoon scoop, measuring gear, 1 medium mixing bowl, whisk, parchment paper, metal spatula, cooling racks

INGREDIENTS

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 cups old-fashioned oatmeal (not instant)

1 ¾ cups sugar

Pinch salt

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 ¼ cups vegetable shortening

5 Tablespoons whole milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup chopped pecans

1 cup raisins

2 eggs, beaten

Preheat oven to 350. Prepare baking sheets with parchment paper.

In mixing bowl, whisk together flour, salt, cinnamon, soda. Add oatmeal and combine.

In stand mixer’s bowl, cream shortening and sugar on medium speed until light, fluffy. About 2 minutes. Add egg, vanilla and milk. Mix about 30 seconds. Turning speed to low, slowly add flour mixture. When well combined, add pecans and raisins. Turn up speed to medium-high to combine, about 30 seconds.

Using scoop, drop cookie dough onto baking sheets (about 11 per sheet, with 2 ½ inches apart). Bake 16 minutes, turning and rotating halfway through baking time. Cool cookies on baking sheet 5 minutes before moving them with spatula onto cooling rack. Let cool to room temperature.

Makes about 7 dozen cookies.

GLADYS PICKETT’S YEAST ROLLS

INGREDIENTS

2/3 cup dry milk

1 ½ cups water

½ cup shortening (Crisco)

½ cup sugar

1 envelope yeast

All-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking  powder

½ teaspoon baking soda

Combine water, dry milk, shortening and sugar in medium saucepan and bring to boiling point. Off heat, allow to cool. When lukewarm, add yeast dissolved in ¼ cup lukewarm water (110 degrees). Add enough flour until it looks like pancake batter. Cover pan with a tea towel, place in a warm spot and allow mixture to rise until double in bulk.

Into batter, sift 1 ½ cups flour, salt, baking powder and soda. Add more flour until it forms a sticky dough. Refrigerate.

Two hours before eating, roll out the dough and cut into 8 pieces, then roll each into a ball. Place onto lightly greased 8 x 8 or round baking dish, cover with tea towel and allow rolls to rise (about 90 minutes). Brush tops with melted butter.

Bake in 400 oven for 7-10 minutes until golden brown on top. Serve while hot.

 

Photos: Patsy R. Brumfield
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This Week’s Southernism, Monday, December 21, 2020

“Christmas, my child, is love in action. Every time we love, every time we give, it’s Christmas.”

— Dale Evans

Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter

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