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Pineapple Birthday Cake


gfron1

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I'm making a cake for a birthday party this weekend. The birthday girl really loves pineapple, but I can't bear to dump a can of crushed pineapple in anything. My first thought was a tiered stack of coconut dacquoise rounds topped with rum caramelized fresh pineapple shaped like a pineapple. I would use a dowel to help it stand tall. A bit over the top perhaps.

But stepping back, any great ideas floating out there? I'm already thinking of how to control the moisture, make a fresh pineapple taste, make a big presentation, etc.

Thanks.

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The one that is on the top of my list to try is from baking from my home to yours.

Do you need a perfectly decorated cake that says "happy birthday" or so or a pastry like cake as it is called .

I made cake pineapple cake a while back that had layers of genoise brushed with simple syrup (some kind of alcohol in it sorry i forgot which one) and roasted pinapple folded into imbc as a filling.....it was amazing.

Edited by kaneel (log)
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If you do decide to put pineapple in the cake, be aware that fresh pineapple loses flavor and aroma when baked. :sad: I was surprised when I made a (tried-and-true, cake style) cookie recipe with gorgeous fresh rather than the usual canned crushed pineapple...the cookies were not nearly as pineapply as before the 'upgrade'!

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Fresh pineapple can do some strange things...remember even JELLO wont set with fresh pineapple in it

the most straight forward like you said would be to dump a can of pineapple into cake batter...like the cherry chocolate cake in the Cake DR book

or a pineapple curd filling Mmmm

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Something I've been wanting to try that has pineapple in it is a Hummingbird Cake. A quick search on here didn't net too many recipes but on thread made reference to recipes on marthastewart.com.

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I haven't been replying as your idea sounds pretty good already, Rob. I looked through my new fancy dessert cookbook from Hong Kong and there's a dessert here of pineapple custard inside chocolate mousse and sponge cake, but it's adulterated with that many flavors. It does look good, though (if standard posh hotel-fare). Just PM me if you want to see a scan :)

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How about a (totally authentic) Pineapple Zuccotto?

That one has raspberries in - Maybe you could substitute with pineapple/reduced pineapple juice.

:laugh: I'm talking like it's that simple. It's so easy to suggest things for others to do that you would have no idea how to do yourself.

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Something I've been wanting to try that has pineapple in it is a Hummingbird Cake.

Hummingbird Cake is a real classic southern dessert--my best recipe is from Southern Living magazine. However, while it contains pineapple, it doesn't really taste like pineapple as it has pecans and bananas in it also. I call it a spice cake for people who don't like spice cake. It is a crowd pleaser, though, and makes a gigantic cake (3 tall 9" layers).

If you're going to bake, you really have to use canned pineapple because the canning process breaks down the bromelain, which is the protein-destroying enzyme found in fresh pineapple (the one that makes your tongue feel funny when you eat a lot of fresh pineapple).

Something more elegant might be a white chocolate cake, which has a wonderful texture and richness without having an overpowering flavor, and a pineapple filling--something simple like crushed pineapple with a bit of sugar, water and cornstarch (although I really detest that sort of texture). Or perhaps serve fresh pinapple on the side of a simple cake?

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This might be good as a filling but has to be soften just a little for cakes I think. It's like a very thick jam.

Every Chinese New Year, we eat plenty of bite sized pineapple tarts. Recipe by Amy Beh:

# 250g grated pineapple

# 150g sugar

# 1 tbsp lemon juice

Bring to a boil grated pineapple, sugar and lemon juice. Let it simmer for 30 minutes or until it thickens. Sieve in half a teaspoon of cornflour.

It goes well with pastry but it might be better to reduce the sugar if pairing the jam with cake.

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The weekend has already approached and you're probably well into it. Let us know what you did.

I'm making a cake for a birthday party this weekend. The birthday girl really loves pineapple, but I can't bear to dump a can of crushed pineapple in anything. My first thought was a tiered stack of coconut dacquoise rounds topped with rum caramelized fresh pineapple shaped like a pineapple. I would use a dowel to help it stand tall. A bit over the top perhaps.

First I will say, there's nothing wrong with canned pineapple. In fact I prefer it in most instances when I am baking. Not EVERYTHING that comes out of a can means it's awful. Take pumpkin puree for instance. If you bake a pie with the canned stuff and compare it to a pie made with fresh drained puree you've made yourself, bet ya can't tell the difference. But that's ANOTHER thread.

In regard to topping coconut dacquoise with rum caramelized pineapple, depending on how juicy the pineapple is once you're done caramelizing it, it can turn the dacquoise into dacqsquoosh if you know what I mean. I would top the dacquoise with some sort of moisture barrier before I put the caramel pineapple on top. Like perhaps a thin layer of rum buttercream, or just dipping the tops of the dacquoise rounds in white chocolate. Then I think you'd be good to go.

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Good timing! I have finished my genoise (using canned pineapple because of all of the previous comments). I've finished most of my foo foo bling bling. I've also finished a super pineapple curd using fresh pineapple. Butter cream leftovers :) are done.

All that's left is the dacquoise and assembly. Chefpeon...of course, I should have thought of that, so thanks for the save. I'm playing a bit with tempered chocolate today on this dessert too.

(Little note: We all post replies and often wonder if they're used when we don't see them in the final product. Every idea here has been super useful and all will be in the final in some manner or another - so thanks.) Dessert coming soon!

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Your title caught my eye, and though I haven't made one in years, there IS a dignity and memorable quality to this crushed-pineapple cake, no matter how you feel about the humble, canned origins.

I can only hope that your cake is as meaningful to your friend as this recipe and its remembered anticipation and taste is to me. It's from a little book of remembrances I'm making for all our children and Grandchildren (the newest two, a little girl in August and a wee grandson just yesterday---I'm still in the clouds!!). I hope that they will someday read and savor and try to capture that lovely, sunlit essence of baking with my Mammaw:

In the big Hoosier cabinet, redolent of vanilla and spices and good baked things, there was always that three-layer pineapple cake with 7-Minute, waiting on that same battered shelf every day of my young life.

Mammaw made one every Friday afternoon, after she had cleaned up the noon-dinner dishes and mopped the kitchen floor. I got to sift the flour from the built-in sifter in the cabinet, and measure it out, along with the baking powder, sugar, salt and soda. And sometimes I would go out to the chickenyard for four fresh orange-yolked eggs (a MUST for cakes---they made the layers a lovely deep gold). She'd crank up the big old Sunbeam mixer and get that cake in the oven in ten minutes flat. The whites would go into the top of the double boiler with cream of tartar, water and sugar, to be beaten every minute of the seven minutes. I did the careful timing, watching the little red second hand of the old white Bakelite Philco clock as it made its slow journey. The runny, slimy whites mixed into a magical, creamy concoction the glossy-white of mountain snow (though I had never seen any).

A "tall can" of Del Monte crushed pineapple was drained in the big strainer and further squeezed as dry as possible by hand. The layers were placed one by one on the big round platter and sprinkled with the pineapple syrup, then smeared with the white frosting. Onto the frosting went tiny fingertip dabs of the pineapple, little clumps all over the surface. All the layers were stacked this way, then a final coat of the frosting, with the requisite swirls and curlicues, then the last of the pineapple dabbed all over the top.

The Friday-night cake was elegant and beautiful, its golden layers falling tenderly beneath the knife. The Sunday cake was a little disheveled, with its frosting beginning to droop a bit, and the little pineapple divots sinking further into the snowy cushion. By Monday, the frosting had taken on the receding look of Winter's last snowfall, with craters and show-throughs and bits of brown crumb emerging through the white, but the taste just got better and better, the layers moister and more flavorful. The Midweek cake, what there was left of it, was still standing, though the layers were listing to one side, testament to their valiant days of patience in the dark of that cupboard; the frosting was just bits and crumbs of crystals, sugary crunches that fell prey to all passing fingers. The crumbs left on the platter were gummy and drying, better than the best bar cookies or lemon squares or chess diamonds.

Thursday night, the scrape of fork tines claimed the last rich, fruit-essenced bits, and the week was done. Friday was cake day, and all was right with the world.

Edited by racheld (log)
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Your title caught my eye, and though I haven't made one in years, there IS a dignity and memorable quality to this crushed-pineapple cake, no matter how you feel about the humble, canned origins. 

I can only hope that your cake is as meaningful to your friend as this recipe and its remembered anticipation and taste is to me.  It's from a little book of remembrances I'm making for all our children and Grandchildren (the newest two, a little girl in August and a wee grandson just yesterday---I'm still in the clouds!!).  I hope that they will someday read and savor and try to capture that lovely, sunlit essence of baking with my Mammaw:

In the big Hoosier cabinet, redolent of vanilla and spices and good baked things, there was always that three-layer pineapple cake with 7-Minute, waiting on that same battered shelf every day of my young life.

Mammaw made one every Friday afternoon, after she had cleaned up the noon-dinner dishes and mopped the kitchen floor. I got to sift the flour from the built-in sifter in the cabinet, and measure it out, along with the baking powder, sugar, salt and soda. And sometimes I would go out to the chickenyard for four fresh orange-yolked eggs (a MUST for cakes---they made the layers a lovely deep gold). She'd crank up the big old Sunbeam mixer and get that cake in the oven in ten minutes flat. The whites would go into the top of the double boiler with cream of tartar, water and sugar, to be beaten every minute of the seven minutes. I did the careful timing, watching the little red second hand of the old white Bakelite Philco clock as it made its slow journey. The runny, slimy whites mixed into a magical, creamy concoction the glossy-white of mountain snow (though I had never seen any).

A "tall can" of Del Monte crushed pineapple was drained in the big strainer and further squeezed as dry as possible by hand. The layers were placed one by one on the big round platter and sprinkled with the pineapple syrup, then smeared with the white frosting. Onto the frosting went tiny fingertip dabs of the pineapple, little clumps all over the surface. All the layers were stacked this way, then a final coat of the frosting, with the requisite swirls and curlicues, then the last of the pineapple dabbed all over the top.

The Friday-night cake was elegant and beautiful, its golden layers falling tenderly beneath the knife. The Sunday cake was a little disheveled, with its frosting beginning to droop a bit, and the little pineapple divots sinking further into the snowy cushion. By Monday, the frosting had taken on the receding look of Winter's last snowfall, with craters and show-throughs and bits of brown crumb emerging through the white, but the taste just got better and better, the layers moister and more flavorful. The Midweek cake, what there was left of it, was still standing, though the layers were listing to one side, testament to their valiant days of patience in the dark of that cupboard; the frosting was just bits and crumbs of crystals, sugary crunches that fell prey to all passing fingers. The crumbs left on the platter were gummy and drying, better than the best bar cookies or lemon squares or chess diamonds.

Thursday night, the scrape of fork tines claimed the last rich, fruit-essenced bits, and the week was done. Friday was cake day, and all was right with the world.

What a wonderful loving recollection. You've inspired me to make a pineapple cake. Yellow cake, crushed pineapple and 7-minute frosting....what could be more simple or delicious?

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Rachel, I also appreciated your remembrance. When I make desserts, they're almost always for someone special for a special day, so there's a bit of emotion tied into it all.

Well, here is what I ended up with. I started with a base of cinnamon dacquoise; a layer of caramel buttercream; Humminbirdkiss' pineapple cake (which included cherries) with a light brushing of rum; pineapple curd (ala Martha Stewart); a second layer of pineapple cake; a layer of apricot compote; a full covering of pineapple buttercream to hide my errors; and to fancy shmansy it - 4 of PH's ganache balls covered in coconut and fried holding a disk of whole wheat filo dough and some other stuff. I wanted to do white chocolate palms but my temper sucked. The birthday girl had 4 cakes and raved about mine. I liked it but as usual I think I had too much going on.

The croquettes:

gallery_41282_4652_8487.jpg

The compote (you can see the cherries peeking through) pre covering with buttercream:

gallery_41282_4652_16110.jpg

The final product - sorry I couldn't get a well lit picture. Those aren't french fries - they're rum soaked pineapple strips that I fried in butter and palm sugar.

gallery_41282_4652_19441.jpg

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Sounds (and looks) good, Rob! How did they go about eating the croquettes with the cake?

I suddenly remembered the Martha Stewart recipe for Hummingbird Cake, and the pineapple flower decorations that they used. http://www.marthastewart.com/portal/site/m...nextfmt=default I'm not too familiar with these proper names for cakes, so of course I got it confused with a Bee Sting Cake. Durh..

Mark

The Gastronomer's Bookshelf - Collaborative book reviews about food and food culture. Submit a review today! :)

No Special Effects - my reader-friendly blog about food and life.

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The croquettes were all about the timing. I wanted them still gooey inside while not so hot as to melt the buttercream (and transport the cake a couple of miles in the car). When it came time to cut the cake they asked, "What do we do with these?" I said, "pop 'em in your mouth - birthday girl first." So that's what they did - and discarded the filo dough.

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