Halloween

It’s officially autumn, and you can feel the magic in the air. While some are sad to see the summer weather disappear, I welcome the new chillier climate with open arms.

As the colors of fall slowly emerge, bold crimsons, brawny browns and golds, I find myself easily seduced by the changing landscape. The rattling bronze oak leaves – some already dark chocolate and crisping at the edges – seem to awaken and enhance my imagination. In one swirling breeze I am energized and inspired unlike any other season of the year.

However, it’s the dashes of unexpected brightness brought about by Halloween that give me my biggest thrill. I have always admittedly been a "Halloween junkie." I can’t remember a time I haven’t been up for a little Halloween hijinks, including some kind of playful hocus pocus, a pumpkin palooza party or trick-or-treat fun.

My irresistible attraction to this holiday overflows into my cooking. I enjoy creating fun Halloween treats from common, everyday foods. This creation takes a classic white cake and icing recipe and easily transforms them into these individual candy corn cakes with orange-cream Icing. 

I live in West Hollywood, where Halloween is like a national holiday – arrangements for street closures have been made well in advance and people from all over will come watch the flagrant and the flamboyant, the political and the theatrical,  the absurd and the sublime march along Santa Monica Boulevard, from La Cienega to Doheny. Candy is not an integral part of this spectacle and frankly that's the only thing that rankles me about it.

One year, the Wicked Witch of the West wheeled along the Boulevard with an enormous crystal ball that housed terrorized miniatures – Dorothy, Toto, and the other Oz pilgrims were all cowering on the yellow brick road within her bubble. Another year, there were several Menendez brothers, wearing blood covered v-neck sweaters and conservative haircuts. Then another year, there were groups of huddled Titanic musicians playing desperately as their ship was sinking (or, I should say, as the parade was passing them by).

With all the leftover Halloween candy over here, it was time to do something with it, something different than just mindlessly eating piece by piece. Unfortunately my biggest motivation for getting rid of the Halloween candy is because I want to buy the same candy but in red and green Christmas packaging. It just never ends.

I saw this cake around the blogosphere and knew I had to try it. Let me just say, it is the best darned dessert, I am shocked. I was worried it would taste like a bunch of mushy candy but the flavors were very distinct and VERY GOOD. Of course my kids thought I was a hero for chopping up candy and putting it in dessert, go figure.

The best part was discovering this terrific recipe for vanilla bundt cake, it's delicious. I mean really, delicious, light, tender and moist. I can see using this cake as a vessel for many goodies from now on, I loved it.

So get your Halloween candy out, even the ones not liked very much will taste good in this cake. I promise.

From the NY Time Magazine

For anyone who grew up near Circleville, Ohio, the possibilities of pumpkin are a measure of one's maturity, one's level of sophistication, the depth of one's world view. There, in a town that would otherwise be unknown, is the Circleville Pumpkin Show -- four days of unabashed Americana that, since 1903, have featured seven parades each year and a range of pumpkin contests to rival the Olympics. The medium is accorded such respect that the farmer who produces the largest pumpkin is considered agriculture's own Einstein. The premier pumpkin carver is accorded an awe worthy of Michelangelo.

And Miss Pumpkin. Well, the real mystery about Marilyn Monroe is how she became an American icon without ever being crowned with pumpkin vines and riding astride the float that looks like Cinderella's carriage, far above the rest of us. There we were: hundreds of June and Ward Cleaver couples, holding the hands of little boys who harbored ideas of planting firecrackers inside jack-o'-lanterns and little girls like me, who were worried about slipping knee socks and the possible consequence of a brisk fall wind under our pleated skirts. We all cheered Miss Pumpkin.

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