My sister gave me Snacking Bakes for Christmas, because she gets me, and the band tried out the Chewy Cocoa Brownies at yesterday's rehearsal for Aloft Sanctuary.

Duuuuude. These are so good. The recipe deviates from standard brownie prep in that you don't just melt the butter on the stove—you brown it before pouring it into the sugar. This recipe also uses cocoa rather than unsweetened baking chocolate (that cruelest of childhood lessons); I was afraid it would turn out too sweet, but nope—great.

Modifications: I added about a teaspoon of instant espresso powder with the cocoa. The recipe calls for half a cup of any kind of chocolate chips; I used Ghirardelli bittersweet, because I always have those around. (I would probably reduce the sugar in the batter if using a lighter chip.) Next time I want to try adding some warm spices (probably cinnamon, ginger, and cardamom), which I think would sing with the brown butter. This may become my new standard brownie.

The band gathered last night for a run-through of Friday's set at the Burlington (https://www.theburlingtonbar.com/). It was brutally cold out, and comfort was important. I tried Shilpa Uskokovic's gingerbread cake (https://www.bonappetit.com/recipe/dark-chocolate-orange-gingerbread-cake, from the December 2024 Bon Appetit; no, I do not know why my browser is suddenly not allowing me to link words). Verdict: yes. Cook this and put it in your face.

I made the recipe more or less as written (with the addition of a little Chinese Five Spice, which is my default flavor enhancer on gingerbreads). Next time I will double the orange zest and add some finely chopped candied ginger, along with the grated ginger root. But I'm having a little leftover slice right now, and this cake rules.

I would be remiss not to discuss actual baguettes on this blog at some point. I usually opt for pain d'epi, the wheat-ear loaf—same recipe, more crust, easier sharing.

I can't take any credit for the recipe; it's the one in Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. Bread flour, yeast, water, salt. That's it: four ingredients. It does have to be bread flour, not all-purpose. And I might go a little heavy on the salt, but that scarcely counts as a modification. 

One thing I have figured out, though, is that you can use the flat side of a cast iron griddle as a baking stone. (Lodge has "use it in the oven" right there in the product description, so this is hardly groundbreaking kitchen science on my part.) This approach, in combination with a steam tray, yields the most perfect crusts I ever hope to achieve.

When we shared a lineup with Underwire in 2019, they brought cupcakes for the audience, as part of their band tradition. Should we start doing this with baguettes? 

How many modifications can you make to something before you get to claim credit? It's a complicated question in the arts (and a wretched legal issue for musicians). It doesn't seem much clearer in the world of recipes. In general, I believe in stealing like an artist. But owning up to the theft in writing, in public, seems nearly as stupid as leaving your wallet at the bank you've just robbed.

Which is to say, this recipe didn't start with me. I got it from a bag of Ghirardelli chocolate chips, and then made a number of changes. Somewhere along the way, the modified version became my default cookie recipe, to the point that friends started referring to them as The Cookies.

So: Start with Clementine's Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies.

But then:
1. Use bittersweet chocolate (60–70% cacao), not semisweet. 
2. Skimp a little on the sugar and brown sugar.
3. Add a pinch of cardamom to the dry ingredients.
4. Use salted butter (the original recipe doesn't specify, but a lot of sweet bakes call for unsalted).
5. Replace the walnuts with dried Montmorency cherries.

I usually cut the recipe in half, which means 6. I make it with an egg white, not a whole egg.

Does this mean I can claim it? I doubt it. I think we're still in cover-song territory, but the sort of cover where you have to listen for a minute to be sure.

At a recent rehearsal we were discussing the importance of food to our musical process. I try to bake something every time the band gets together; we had cranberry spice cake for the last Baguettes session and The Cookies for the last Unswept rehearsal. Summer rehearsals are for pie. Charlie is on the record as saying he wants some sort of baked goods if he's not getting paid. Anyway, we realized we could probably put together a decent cookbook of the Chicago indie music world. So, to our already haphazard blog rotation, we're adding #Baked. Like all cooking—and indie music—it's an experiment. Brad Brubaker, songwriter and veteran dessert blogger, kicks things off.

Brad Brubaker fronts the band Brad Bru & The Crowd Goes Wild, whose current iteration shares members with Liz + The Baguettes, the Unswept, the Whiskey Radio Hour, and Parasites. Their upcoming release of the 7-song EP Smiling Politely features musicians who have played with Pigface, I Fight Dragons, Jon Langford, and Even in Blackouts. The band plays Golden Dagger on April 25.

It is one of my family's classic stories. When the Brubakers first came over to America, they were on the same vessel as the Hershey family. Since a charismatic nature runs in the family, it's no surprise that the Hersheys were quite taken by my forefathers. In fact, the friendship blossomed so much that the Hershey family asked the Brubakers if we would be interested in joining them in the chocolate business they intended to start in the new world.

"No," we said. "We intend to open our own grocery store."

Both families would later settle in the commonwealth of Pennsylvania. There is still a large population of Brubakers there and, well, you know about the Hersheys. The Brubakers actually would go on to experience prosperity as grocers, but, suffice to say, there isn't an amusement park erected in our image.

What does this have to do with corned beef, you ask?

Well, my brother and I were rehashing this piece of family lore some years ago and I said, "When the Brubakers came over from Germany on the same ship was the Hersheys..."

My brother stopped me. "Dad always told me came from England."

Dad always told me Germany.

We went to ask my dad for clarification, but got none.

It was at this point my brother decided we were Irish. And why not? He loves Guinness, Flogging Molly, and everything else Irish. He even named his kids Patrick and Erin!

All this is to say that every year around St. Patrick's Day, I make a corned beef and cabbage shepherd's pie, a recipe of my own making that celebrates two famous dishes often found at Irish-American restaurants.


Corned Beef and Cabbage Shepherd's Pie
Ingredients
3/4 cup sour cream
1/2 cheddar cheese
1 1/2 lb red potatoes (or any potato, really)
3 cloves of garlic (optional)

2 Tbsp butter
1 yellow onion
2 cloves garlic
4 carrots sliced, or approximate of baby carrots
2 cups cabbage
1 lb sliced corned beef (from deli counter), diced
3 Tbsp flour
1 1/2 cup beef broth
1/3 cup-ish ketchup
2 Tbsp-ish Worcestershire
1 Tbsp-ish hot sauce

Cooking instructions
Boil water in soup pot.
Boil Potatoes (and garlic) until soft to a fork and taste right texture.
Mash Potatoes with Sour Cream, Milk and 1/4 cup Cheese.

Preheat oven at 375 degrees.
Skillet at medium medium high heat.
Add Butter & Garlic, Onion and Carrots, 5-8 minutes or until onions are translucent and carrots softened a bit.
Add Cabbage and cook 4-5 minutes.
Add Corned Beef and cook 3 minutes.
Add Flour and cook 2 minutes.
Add Broth, ketchup & Sauces. Simmer 10 minutes.

Add Corned Beef & Cabbage mixture to a baking dish.
Top with Mashed Potatoes.
Sprinkle remaining Cheese on top.

Bake for 10-18 minutes. I don't take it out until the gravy is bubbling up.