Lost &

Found: Scott Morse's apple cider donuts.

Lost last spring, after the Marstons Mills Winter Farmers' Market closed, and the bakery moved from the Cash Market downtown to a new location in Hyannis that apparently didn't work out.

Found last week, at the new winter farmers' market in Sandwich, at the American Legion Hall on Route 130.

Just thought you'd like to know.

A party

It is Alex's birthday today.

We celebrated yesterday, with our friends Tracy and Swede and our two nieces and a whole lot of apples and pears. Tracy had just bought a new cider press, and a friend had an orchard full of fruit. We picked up the drops and filled a few baskets from the trees, and then brought the fruit back to crank and crush and press and strain.

I had made cider once before, at our friend Rebecca's when I was maybe about ten, and then again last year, and it's no small under-taking. It's the type of thing you almost have to make into a party, because otherwise, it would simply be too much work. Even yesterday, with Tracy picking out apples and me and Bella on the crank and Lili weighing down the pressing table and Swede handing out chocolate and wine and Alex manning the press, it took us two hours to put out about three gallons.

At least, for the apple cider it did.

Later in the afternoon, when the girls got tired and the requests for another turn at cranking turned to requests for bathroom breaks and more chocolate, we tried the pears. They were ripe, and soft, and unlike the apples, they cranked through the cutting blades in about five minutes flat. They were juicier than the apples, too, and sweeter, and the juice that came out when we pressed them was slightly thicker, but also more delicate. I liked both the ciders, but I think if in the future I get to choose—based both on pressing and on taste—from now on I'll pick pear. Alex liked a mix, and that was good too, although I think you lose the flavor of both a little bit.

Either way, for now, we have plenty of both flavors to spare. We're taking it easy today—in honor of Alex, and September, and the fact that it's a beautiful, blustery day—but pretty soon, I think we'll get energized enough at least to eat some cake. And then to wash it down with some cider—a swig of apple, then a swig of pear.

WHITE & BLACK RUM MARBLE CAKE

I can't very well give you a recipe for cider—all you need is fruit, and a press, and a good arm to turn the crank—but here's the recipe for Alex's birthday cake. It comes from one of my favorite books—The Modern Baker, by Nick Malgieri—which I like for its simplicity and creativity.

Malgieri calls this cake "both homey and festive," and I agree; it's as pretty as it is good. Just be sure to read through the whole recipe before you begin as there are a few steps—like melting the chocolate and softening the butter—that need to be taken care of first.

for the base batter:
2 and 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 and 2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 sticks butter, softened
7 eggs
3 tablespoons dark rum (I used Gosling's Bermuda Black Rum)

for the chocolate batter:
2 tablespoons dark rum
2 tablespoons milk
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
6 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled
2 cups base batter (see above)

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Grease a Bundt pan and coat it with flour or very fine, dry bread crumbs. Whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. Add the butter and beat for a minute or two, until the batter forms a thick, heavy paste.

Whisk the eggs and rum together in a small bowl. Add this mixture to the butter and flour mixture in thirds, beating well and scraping down the sides of the bowl with a spatula after each addition. Use the spatula to give the batter a final mix.

In another bowl, combine the rum, milk and baking soda and whisk well. Add the chocolate and whisk well again. Add 2 cups of the base batter to the chocolate mixture and mix with the spatula until smooth and well-combined.

Spoon half of the remaining base batter into the prepared pan. Use a small spatula to smooth out the top of the batter, taking care to make sure it is very even on top. Spoon the chocolate batter in over top; and again use the spatula to smooth the top of the batter. Finally, spoon the remaining base batter over the chocolate batter. Don't worry about smoothing this top layer out; it will even as it bakes and you risk mottling the marbling underneath.

Bake for 45-55 minutes, or until a cake tester comes out clean. As the cake rises, you may be able to see some chocolate through the lighter base batter—this is fine. Serve at room temperature, plain—or with vanilla ice cream and a little pour of rum.

The Local Food Report: cranberry apple cider donuts

Scott Morse grew up in Vermont. I don't know him very well, but I do know that he recently moved to Marstons Mills, and that the transition must have been hard. Having spent four years in Vermont myself, I know that when you leave, it isn't just real fall foliage and Mobil station stops for Ben & Jerry's seconds and warm, early springs you give up. You also leave apple cider donut territory behind.

Maine, where I grew up, is also an apple cider donut place. Every respectable pick-your-own orchard has a recipe, and you eat the donuts hot, after you pick. You get a paper cup of steaming cider for dunking, and you sit with your family on a bench or hay bales or in the back of your pick-up truck. While the cashier weighs and tallies up your haul, you watch your cider fill with cinnamon flecks and floating crumbs, and you wash one, one-and-a-half, then two donuts down.

It isn't the sort of tradition you want to give up, but until a few weeks ago, I had never seen an apple cider donut on the Cape.


That's where Scott Morse comes in. A few years back he left home and went out into the world and came to the same conclusion I did: that a life without apple cider donuts wasn't the sort he wanted to live. But instead of driving home to the Common Ground Fair each September for a visit, he set out to learn how to make apple cider donuts on the Cape. He and his friend, Patience Thomas, already ran a bakery operation, Great Cape Baking, in Marstons Mills. They moved into a new space with a fry-o-lator and a master donut maker came in to teach Scott how to do things just right. He learned how to make the dough: flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, baking soda, with tiny minced dried apple flecks mixed in. He learned to use the cider hot, not cold, and to keep every step of the dough at room temperature along the way. He made batch after batch of dough in the bakery's big, Hobart mixer, and he developed a system for frying and drying and sugaring the donuts that he thought made them less greasy, lighter on clothes and hips. He learned to work the dough from start to finished product in under 30 minutes, just fast enough that the baking soda would set, but not so long that it would cease to act.

Finally, he started experimenting on his own. He had a bag of local dried cranberries lying around, and folded a handful into the dough. He made sure that none stuck out the sides (they'd burn), and tossed a few into hot oil. What emerged was the very first batch of Cape Cod Cranberry Apple Cider Donuts—an immediate smash hit.


These days, Scott sells both his classic apple cider donuts and the cranberry twist at the bakery's little front at Cash Market in Marstons Mills, and also at the new winter farmers' market at Liberty Hall. He gets in every morning at 3am to roll out the dough, and you can tell, from watching him, that he loves the process. But he says the best part is watching his customers' faces change as they dig in—women with kids, contractors holding hot coffee, men brushing cinnamon sugar off their business suits. They savor it at first, he says, a little bit in awe, and then finally, they break into a grin.

Clearly, he and I aren't the only ones missing home.

Note—updated 10.30.10: Great Cape Baking is no longer at the Cash Market in Marstons Mills. I have tried to no avail to get some hard facts, but in lieu of those can offer this: I heard that they moved to a location in Hyannis, but that it fell through, and they were still selling at the farmers' market in Sandwich until that closed for the season. I haven't heard whether or not the Marstons' Mills Winter Farmers' Market is going to happen again, but if it does, I'm hoping to find the donuts there.

CRANBERRY APPLE CIDER DONUTS

Adapted from this recipe over at Smitten Kitchen

My sister was the first one to try this recipe. She made it this fall when she was home for a visit, and my parents promptly helped her devour almost every single one. (She did, to her credit, bring me a few leftovers in a plastic bag.) We all agreed that they tasted just as good as the ones we've had at pick-your-own stands in Maine and Vermont. I changed things a bit on Scott's advice—he recommended doubling the amount of apple cider, whisking in a tad more nutmeg, and adding in chewy cranberries to give things a Cape twist. This man is serious about his apple cider donuts, and when it came to the tweaks, he was dead right. Just be sure to fold the cranberries in so that they aren't sticking out anywhere from the dough—otherwise, when they hit the oil, they'll burn. Oh! and if you're looking for a source of local dried cranberries, try here or here.

2 cups apple cider
3 and 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons sea-salted butter
1 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup dried cranberries
canola oil, for frying
cinnamon sugar (1 cup granulated sugar mixed with 1 and 1/2 tablespoons ground cinnamon)

Bring the cider to a boil in a small pot over medium-high heat. Turn the heat down to low and leave the cider to simmer, uncovered, until it reduces down to 1/4 cup. This will take about 35-40 minutes.

Meanwhile, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt in a medium mixing bowl.

In a large mixing bowl, beat together the butter and sugar. Add the eggs, one at a time, and continue beating until the mixture is light, pale, and creamy—about a minute. Beat in the reduced cider and the buttermilk, and then fold the dry ingredients in gently until everything is just combined.

Roll the dough out to 1/2-inch thick on a well-floured surface. Fold it in half and roll it out again. Repeat this process several times until the dough feels smooth and moist but not sticky—it shouldn't cling to your hands. Let the dough rest for 5-1o minutes, then use your hands to shape it into a rectangle, keeping the top smooth and the sides 1/2-inch thick. Press the cranberries evenly into the top of the dough, fold it over once more (so that the cranberries are sandwiched in the middle) and roll it out and shape it into a rectangle again.

Use a 3-inch donut cutter (or a round cookie-cutter and a bottle top, if you need to improvise) to cut the dough into roughly 15 donuts. As when you make shaped cookies, you will need to ball up the scraps (but not the holes) and re-roll the dough several times. Arrange the cut donuts and holes on a cookie sheet and set aside.

Fill a medium-size pot with canola oil so that the oil reaches 3 inches up the side. (After you use this oil for frying the donuts, you can set it aside for general cooking use, so it doesn't need to go to waste.) Attach a candy thermometer to the side of the pot, and over medium-high heat bring the oil to 350 degrees. Drop the donuts in batches into the hot oil using a slotted spoon. They should fry for roughly one minute and ten seconds per side, or until they are a deep golden brown. Use the wrong end of a wooden spoon to flip them through their holes, and pull them out with the slotted spoon. Transfer them to another cookie sheet lined with a clean dish towel or a layer of paper towels. Flip them once so that both sides are patted dry, and let them cool for one minute before rolling them in the cinnamon sugar.

Repeat this process until all of the donuts are fried and sugared, and then enjoy them hot, with a glass of steaming cider or coffee.