the road not taken: buttercream edition
on things to celebrate, meringues, and once again, softened butter
I’ve been celebrating lots of things lately - mostly family and friend’s birthdays, but also myself. As of last week, I’m leaving my beloved Philly (and my beloved Phillies) behind to move to Chicago. Time to go to law school baby! Hey Northwestern - let’s get this show on the road!
If anything, this is good news for you. Historically, my times in school have been some my most prolific baking moments, and now we’re going to share in the deep culinary accomplishments my stress will afford us. I will teach you how to make the flakiest pie crust for when I flake on my social engagements. Once I confirm what torts is we can make a torte?
All jokes aside, I’ve always baked when I’m being academically challenged (and consequently, it’s what I’ve written every single admissions essay about). Something about getting my hands covered in butter seems to help.
When we collectively think of celebration, we think of cake. And I think that’s fine! Nothing wrong with a elaborate show of love for someone (though don’t worry, I’ll also show you the fastest one-bowl chocolate cake with chocolate frosting possible - another school classic). While the cake portion of cake is indeed tricky, I find myself most disappointed by frosting out in the real world. Let’s fix that.
This post will be followed later this week with recipes for buttercream - the first part of a collection of mix and match classic cake recipes, frostings, curds, fillings, and all sorts of weird add-ons for whatever your celebration demands.
It’s also a good time to tell you that there will soon be free and paid content on here. Most of it will remain free, but some recipes and extra posts will sit pretty behind the paywall. I deeply appreciate those of you who have already committed to supporting this little adventure of mine. I promise to make it worth your while.
Mistake #1: You’re not making a meringue-based buttercream
If you’re anything like me, you spent your high-school years making buttercream out of powdered sugar (if you’d like to sound like a chef, call it 10X - it’s processed/milled 10 times, allegedly). It’s time to face the truth - the product is gritty and sad. Let’s leave it in my teenage years, along with my go-to outfit of a tank top with a panther’s snarling face on it, lace tights with jean shorts and Sperry Top-siders (not a joke).
So, you’re going to make a meringue-based buttercream. We’re adults, after all. In general, there are three types of meringue:
French meringue: Not typically used to make buttercream, but made by beating egg whites with sugar until stiff. Very susceptible to over-mixing, falling, and weeping on cakes or pies.
Italian Meringue: Can be used to make buttercream. Made by streaming a sugar syrup cooked to 240F into gently whipping egg whites, then whipped until desired stiffness is reached. Stable, glossy, and toast-able.
Swiss Meringue: Can be used to make buttercream. Made by heating egg whites and sugar together until warm and dissolved, then whipping until desired stiffness is reached. Stable, glossy, and toast-able.
Generally, you’re just going to slowly add softened butter to your meringue and you’ve got soft and silky buttercream. There’s not a huge difference between buttercreams based in Italian and Swiss meringue - comes down to your preference.
Mistake #2: Okay, you’re not making a meringue-based buttercream OR a custard-based buttercream OR a marshmallow-based buttercream
You can also make buttercream out of a custard-style base and then whip in butter and/or cream cheese. Obviously, it’s good. Marshmallow is also a good base - and tasty on its own as well. There’s a few other options that we’ll explore later.
Mistake #3: Everything is curdled and I want to die
On a few different occasions, I’ve received frantic phone calls and texts from loved ones who have been personally victimized by making a meringue-based buttercream and watching it curdle (think separated, chunky and liquidy) before their very eyes. You’re essentially making an emulsion here, between your fat (butter) and your liquid (egg whites). The curdling is a sign that you had some temperature differences and we need to equalize them to bring the emulsion together. How?
Just keep mixing it!!
If your mixer is on a sturdy surface, walk away for 10 minutes and come back. It’ll have come together into a smooth, shiny cloud. I swear. Just like magic. If it seems like you have a bigger problem……
Mistake #4: Uh-oh! Room temperature, again, is cooler than you think (but you can fix it)
Same exact vibes as the last Road Not Taken - room temp is around 65 degrees, so it’ll feel a little cold to you (as your little paws are about 90!).
If your butter is too hot (or your room is too warm), your buttercream will likely be greasy, soft and difficult to work with. Stick the whole mixing bowl in the fridge to chill for 20 minutes, and rewhip to see if you can get some air into it. Repeat if needed.
If your butter is too cold, it’ll break into little tiny chunks and you won’t have smooth and creamy frosting OR it’ll look okay but taste very fatty and waxy since you weren’t able to get enough air into it. Usually, if it’s just a minor difference, whipping it longer will fix it (see above in “everything is curdled and I want to die”).
If the problem is very persistent, take about a half cup of your buttercream and microwave it until melted. Pour it back into your mixer, mix on low to combine, and raise the speed to medium-high for about a minute. If it is still too dense, repeat!
(Don’t worry - I’ll put these fixes in the actual recipes too.)
side notes
If you’ve made it this far - I commend you and also would eat a slice of cake you made (not a small compliment! I do not love cake!). Keep an eye out for a basic buttercream recipe soon - and if you’re considering becoming a paid subscriber, think about how many other buttercream options will soon await you.
On another note - as I’ve still been reading, here’s a few books about food (& women) that have really grabbed me. Read Piglet if you want gorgeous descriptions of dinners haunted by the impending doom of a relationship. Read A Certain Hunger if you want that but graphic, dark, and terrifyingly cannibalistic. Read Nightbitch if you want less dinner-party food, more raw steak off the floor.
bonus content
A recent cake for a beachy birthday girl. Childhood memory yellow cake and chocolate pudding filling, vanilla buttercream, graham crumbs, marshmallow waves, cocktail umbrellas, and sprinkle fish. Hang loose!
So many buttercream memories!