Saying it with carrot cake

[T]here are those who hug and there are those who bake. I hate to divide us into all-or-nothing camps (this may be a Virgo tendency). I’m sure there are huggers and kissers out there who also express their affection through baking. But as a lady who grew up without all the touchy feely trappings (until a stint in a sorority where the gals were so hug-happy, I became numb to human touch), I followed the practice that one’s deepest feelings could be expressed through food. Deep from the oven equals deep from the heart.

I’ve made scones, cookies, candies, breads and muffins for family, friends, co-workers, the mail lady (by all means, make friends through food with your postal carrier – this will serve you well), neighbors, yoga teachers. It imparts your affection for those you already care about, and, for those you want in your camp, gifts of food can be, to quote a friend, “disarming.” I’ve worn my scone on my sleeve at times, making confections for those whom I wanted to impress, baking in despair to keep a job, sweating with love over a birthday cake for family and burning the candle and the oven at both ends in order to say “thank you” to those who need to know how I feel.

[A] gesture of appreciation two years ago has turned into a recipe I have probably made more than any other, literally dozens of times. Let me begin by saying that, when you have rabbits, whether you love or loathe vegetables, you will be forced into their realm and perhaps even eat more of them yourself (vegetables, that is). Bunnies thrive on fresh produce…the greens (parsley, basil, mint, cilantro) and the fresh carrots. We have found a booth at our local farmers’ market to be an excellent purveyor of both and the fellows who man this establishment are tireless workers who are genuine and friendly. We visit them every week and are rewarded with the best fresh supplies and warm conversation.

So for Easter two years ago, I decided to bake them up a batch of carrot cupcakes, made using their own organic carrots. Now, I have to say that of all the cakes I’ve eaten, carrot cake is a favorite. I’ve tried numerous recipes to try to match my expectation of what I consider the ideal carrot cake and came close a few times – many of them lacked the moistness I was looking for. I also believe the perfect carrot cake should contain pineapple (I could put pineapple in everything) and nuts. I stumbled across a recipe in a bread book — believe it or not — for a quick bread that contained not only fresh grated carrots, but carrot baby food. Intrigued by this component, I disregarded the word “bread” and tried the recipe on for size (after all, a quick bread could be made into a muffin and a muffin was just a euphemisized cupcake after all, right?).

With a few modifications, I made the recipe into something I wanted – a moist, flavorful carrot cake. Loaded with a singular spice – cinnamon – it turns out a deep orange, plump and juicy with fresh grated organic carrots, organic carrot baby food and crushed pineapple and juice, it’s as easy to make as it is to eat (I’ve come to realize this recipe illustrates the laziness – at least in dishwashing – of AWS. I likely didn’t drain the pineapple or use an electric mixer in order to avoid some steps of the process. It’s mixed by hand with very few bowls or implements involved).

The cake was a hit, both with me and with my carrot farm friends. Perhaps more than I ever expected. Somehow or other, I got put on a carrot cake schedule. When did appreciation become expectation? Between the regular not-so-subtle hints of, “Boy, we sure do like that carrot cake,” to the flat-out demands of “Well, the end of the month is here, guess it’s time for carrot cake” (I had no idea I had been delivering them cake at the end of the month), the regularity of it, though ego-stroking, has worn the original intention of it a tad. And it can be a little mundane making the same thing over and over. I’ve done my best to vary the end product by baking the carrot cake in various forms: from a large two-layer single cake to little loaves, little Bundt shapes, little pumpkins – I even baked the cakes in little pie tins to look tart-like one Thanksgiving. Some days, when that time of the month comes, I just don’t feel like making a thing. So what do I do? I get in the kitchen and make carrot cake, anyway.

I have to declare that, one cannot be sad while frosting a cupcake. It is just not possible. One Friday afternoon, depleted by a week’s worth of stress and unforeseen scheduling issues, I hurried home in a post-work lather…to do what? Bake up a bunch of cupcakes for my produce-bearing friends. The act of making the cakes gathered my mind to a calming focus and the soothing labor of swirling on snowy cream cheese icing settled me to near Zen-like stillness with a rising heart. What on earth had I been chapfallen about…ever? I could not remember. Love – in baking, that is — is its own reward.

Farmers’ Market Carrot Cake


In a large bowl, beat together the butter and cream cheese with an electric mixer. With the mixer on low speed, add the powdered sugar a cup at a time until smooth and creamy. Beat in the vanilla extract.