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Summer is well under way, which I finally realized after a quick trip back to Alabama this past weekend; after a torrential afternoon downpour, my sleek blowout looked more groomer than glamour. Unfortunately no amount of expensive hair product can tame the Southern humidity beast! I guess it's going to be ponytails from here on out... On the food front, my cooking style is definitely reflecting the rising temperatures. In this Georgia heat, I'm all about ease. Hope you enjoy these warm weather treats!

— I turned banana pudding into ice cream! And pie! Yep, you heard me right. I made the ultimate Southern dessert even better with my banana pudding ice cream pie. (via The Kitchn)

— Detoxing from homemade ice cream overload is the mother of invention. This lightened-up smoked trout salad is a new lunchtime fave! (via The Kitchn)

— This peach and prosciutto bruschetta is perfect for when you get sick of eating your peaches plain... as if that would ever happen. Even so, it makes a gorgeous (and easy!) summer appetizer. (via The Kitchn)

— I've been a grilling machine since I gifted Walt his new birthday present. Smoky salmon BLT's have been the biggest hit! (via The Kitchn)

— Remember when I mentioned having some spare bananas around? Well these grilled banana bread ice cream sandwiches are why. Talk about the perfect way to beat the summer heat! (via Cooking Channel)

Recipe: Southern Coconut Layer Cake

First and foremost, let me just start by saying this coconut cake is my masterpiece. But it didn't come easy. What you see here took lots (and lots) of licked fingers, too many slices to count, and a few more tears than I'd like to admit.

It all started out simply enough, when I decided to surprise Walt with an impromptu 30th birthday party on a particularly nondescript Sunday afternoon. In years past, the menus have been very much the same and always include my "famous" chocolate chip cookie cake. But milestones are milestones (no matter how hard we try to avoid them) and deserve something a bit more over the top. I took it upon myself to whip up the most impressive, most irresistible, most Southern cake I could think of—the one and only coconut cake.

To get started, I needed to do my homework. (It should be noted that when I take on a project like this, I demand perfection.) I trolled the many reputable food websites and culled through all of my cookbooks. I compared and contrasted and left no stone unturned. The sheer amount of recipes available to me was overwhelming, but I persevered and marched into battle ready to bake.

Unfortunately, all the research in the world does not guarantee a perfect cake. I learned this the hard way. I made a costly impulse decision, putting my usually hard-earned trust in the hands of a yet unproven cookbook (by a famous Southern chef, no less!), when I should have followed my instinct and chosen a more reputable source. Just ask Walt. Because he's the one who found me sitting alone and defeated on the kitchen floor, black streaks of mascara the only remaining proof of the tears I had shed. Three sullen, sunken cake layers glared down at me from the counter, a bittersweet reminder of how much I still have to learn.

I spent the next few hours feeling beaten up and broken down. I'm a pretty chill girl, but for some reason mistakes in the kitchen get me and they get me good. And it's cakes that always pack the hardest punch, it seems. So I decided to sleep on it. I knew a little rest would ease the pain, and then with the party only hours away I wouldn't have too much time to sulk, anyways.

It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do. I woke up ready to bake, armed with a new recipe in hand. This time I went straight for Cook's Illustrated, which never lets me down in a moment of need. Sure enough, two golden, flat, and damn near perfect cake layers emerged from the oven safe from harm's way. Talk about a huge sigh of relief!

The final product was a piecemeal of recipes: a Food & Winebuttercream and a Martha cream cheese frosting. I even salvaged one cake layer from the previous day's disaster, which yielded a triple-stacked Southern beauty. My tragic coconut cake had gone from ugly ducking to beautiful swan in almost an instant.

Of course one of the major conversation starters at the party was coconut-gate 2012. But all the drama was forgotten as soon as it was time to blow out the candles and cut into the cake. The silence from my guests seemed to be a good sign. I took one bite and must admit that even I was impressed. (And I really am my worst critic, you know.) It was so good, in fact, that I didn't even get a moment to snap a blog-worthy photo, because every last slice was gone in the blink of an eye.

Since this recipe was too good not to share, I'm giving y'all a dessert encore, however this time around I made the recipe my own. I think you'll very much like the changes. Of course, three cakes in as many days is a lot for anyone—I'm going to need a short break from all things coconut, piña coladas not included. I truly hope you enjoy this coconut cake as much as Walt and I did. It was definitely a labor of love, but worth every single second of blood, sweat, and even those pesky tears.

COCONUT LAYER CAKE
Source: Nealey Dozier, adapted from Cook's Illustrated and Martha Stewart
Yields: 16 or more slices

I developed the base recipe of this 3-layer coconut cake after too-many-to-count hours of baking research, in addition to my previous testing using versions from both Cook's Illustrated and Bottega Favorita. It is a fairly traditional butter cake steeped with lots of extra coconut flavor, and yields a dense, super-moist crumb.

The filling, which I adapted from Martha Stewartvia Charleston's Peninsula Grill, is nothing short of spectacular. I think I went into shock from deliciousness upon my first taste from the bowl. Next time I'll probably double the recipe—half for the cake and half for me.

The frosting contains both butter and cream cheese; it has a slightly thicker texture than the filling and adds just a bit more tang. And last but not least, a coconut cake isn't a coconut cake without a cozy blanket of sweetened, shredded goodness. This cake must be the taste of heaven!

For the cake layers:
1-1/2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
13-1/2 ounces cake flour (approximately 3-1/4 cups, spooned and swept)
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon baking powder
1-1/4 teaspoons table salt
1 (13-1/2 ounce) can coconut milk
1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons stirred, sweetened cream of coconut (such as Coco Lopez)
5 egg whites
1-1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1-1/2 teaspoons pure coconut extract
10-1/2 ounces granulated sugar (approximately 1-1/4 cups, spooned and swept)
8 ounces (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
3 large eggs

For the coconut filling:
1-1/2 cups sweetened shredded coconut
4 ounces (1 stick) unsalted butter, cubed
1-1/4 cups heavy cream
3/4 cups granulated sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 tablespoon water
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste or pure vanilla extract
Pinch of kosher salt

For the coconut frosting:
2 sticks unsalted butter, at room temperature
4 ounces cream cheese
2 teaspoons pure coconut extract
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste or pure vanilla extract
1 (16 ounce) box confectioners' sugar
3 cups sweetened shredded coconut plus more as needed, for garnish

For the cake: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Generously coat 3 (9-inch) round cake pans with shortening and flour the pan, discarding the excess. (I use Baker's Joy, a shortening spray with flour added. It's fabulous!)

Place shredded coconut in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until very finely chopped.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the chopped coconut, flour, baking powder, and salt. In a separate bowl, whisk the coconut milk, cream of coconut, egg whites, vanilla, and coconut extracts until completely blended.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream the sugar and butter on high speed until very light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Reduce speed to medium-low and beat in the three whole eggs, one at a time, until well combined. Add the flour mixture, alternating with the coconut milk mixture, to the creamed butter, starting and ending with the flour.

Divide batter equally into the three prepared pans (I use a kitchen scale for accuracy). Bake the layers until they are light golden and set, and come out clean when pricked with a toothpick, approximately 35 minutes. Cool the cakes in the pans for 15 minutes. Cut around the edges with a pairing knife and remove the cakes to wire racks. Cool completely before moving forward with the recipe.

For the filling: Place shredded coconut in the bowl of a food processor and pulse until very finely chopped. Set aside.

In a medium to large saucepan, bring butter, cream, and sugar to a boil over medium-high heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the butter is melted and sugar completely dissolved.

Meanwhile, whisk the cornstarch, water, vanilla bean paste, and a pinch of salt together in a small bowl, then stir the mixture into the saucepan with the cream mixture. Bring cream back to a boil, stirring constantly. Once the mixture returns to a boil, cook for an additional minute or so, until just thickened.

Remove the saucepan from the heat and stir in the chopped coconut. Continue stirring for another minute or so to release some of the heat. Transfer the filling to a mixing bowl and cool at room temperature for an hour. Transfer to the refrigerator and chill, stirring occasionally, until cool, 3-4 hours (or overnight).

When ready to assemble the cake, beat the chilled filling with a handheld mixer on high speed until thick, light, and fluffy, approximately 1-2 minutes.

For the frosting: Place butter and cream cheese in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or with a hand mixer) and beat on medium speed until light and creamy. Turn mixer on low and add coconut extract and vanilla bean paste, followed by the confectioners' sugar. Continue beating until smooth, about 3 minutes.

To assemble the cake: Place one cake layer on a large plate or cake stand and coat with half of the coconut filling. Add the second cake layer and cover with the remaining coconut filling. Add the third cake layer. Frost the top and sides of the cake with a crumb coat of coconut frosting, followed by thicker layer. Thoroughly cover the frosted top and sides of the cake with shredded coconut, pressing gently to adhere it to the cake.

Kitchen tip: I recommend breaking this cake into steps—at least baking the cake layers ahead of time. The layers can be made up to three weeks in advance. If making two days in advance or less, just wrap each individual layer tightly in plastic wrap and tuck into a large Ziploc bag. Store the cakes on the counter at room temperature. To store the layers longer than two days (and up to three weeks), wrap a layer of aluminum foil around the layer of plastic wrap before freezing. Allow layers to thaw to room temperature before continuing with the recipe. The frosted cake will keep three or four days in an airtight container.

Spotlight On: Pinterest

This is the second post in a series about my personal methods of recipe organization. Check out the first post, Spotlight On: Eat Your Books, for more of my tips and tricks.

Hi, my name is Nealey and I am a hoarder. A magazine hoarder, that is. I can write that openly because I really, really hope it is a thing of the past.

It irks me to the core to get rid of a magazine. What if I lose some single, mind-altering tip or recipe that otherwise could have changed my life forever? Or what if the publishing industry dies out completely, leaving any crisp and unstained copies of, gasp, paper—à la Gourmet—as the foodie equivalent to a mint condition Babe Ruth baseball card. Okay, now I'm just talking crazy, but you get the picture: I like my magazines where I can see them.

But once I started cohabiting with a certain fellow named Walter, something (meaning me) had to give. Take, for instance, our cross-country move, when I tried to shove three bulging boxes of various food and lifestyle magazines into an already overpacked U-Haul. Despite shedding my best "tears of despair," only seven years of Martha Stewart Weddings and my treasured Domino collection made the cut.

Unfortunately moving to a new city, however far away, didn't release me from my freakish tendencies, and so the vicious cycle continued. As quickly as the forwarded subscriptions began to arrive did the new magazine piles begin to creep into every spare corner of our home. (To be perfectly honest, the stacks really just got banished to the bottomless pit otherwise known as the guestroom. It's where words, among other things, go to die.) For a few too many months, the only solution was to just shut the damn door.

Completely fed up with my mess—and possibly hopped up on too much caffeine—I finally said enough is enough and took back the reins to the paper monster. One hour became one Saturday, which in turn became one of many Saturdays. I ruthlessly tore out page after page deemed worthy of salvation and sent the rest straight to the curb. I took few prisoners and left no survivors. But that was only the beginning. Upon finding myself with hundreds (Thousands! Millions!) of magazine tear sheets, mainly piles of recipes, I needed a new plan of attack. Which brings me to my infamous 3-ring binders.

This next part started out innocently enough. Armed with a mega-pack of plastic sheet protectors, I began to organize all the recipes by course. In fact, I was so proud of my little organizational feat that I actually felt the need to keep the progress going (which never happens despite my good intentions). I was diligent about ripping tear sheets out while reading a magazine; the leftovers were immediately discarded. The trouble with my system, however, was that one 3-ring binder turned into two, and two turned into three, and then well, you get the picture.

It was fun to occasionally page through my "homemade" cookbooks, but I still wasn't utilizing the recipes like I should. You know, actually cooking from them. Which brings us to Pinterest, my light at the end of the (hoarding) tunnel. Of course everybody and their mother has discovered this visually-stimulating virtual time warp, so I'm not here to tell you what you already know. I just want to explain how I am using Pinterest to save me from myself. Because there is an actual point to this story, I swear.

In a serious attempt at procrastination one morning, a light bulb went off in my head: what if I upload all of my tear sheets to Pinterest, ridding me of a paper trail forever? I was already pinning interesting recipes I stumbled across online, so this couldn't be much different. I created boards labeled by coarse that paralleled the binder categories I already created. And then I got to work. It has been a labor of love, and I'm not finished yet, but every few days I try to carve out an hour or two to get through the piles.

I must say that since I started this undertaking I have been referring to my boards on a daily basis, which is a major improvement from how I was utilizing the 3-ring binders. To me, this makes the project totally worth the major time investment. And I love that my followers can see what recipes I think look interesting—because at the end of the day, why should I "hoard" them all? (Hee hee.)

Of course with Pinterest being such a new phenomenon, I am not ready to throw the tear sheets out completely. I have filed them (by category, of course) in an accordion folder tucked in a cabinet far from my view. The goal is to never have to refer to them again, but what can I say? I like the security of knowing they are there, just in case.

Please advise—This ‘Spotlight On’ featuring Pinterest is based entirely on my personal opinion. I did not receive any compensation for this post and am fairly certain they have no idea who I am.

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  This past weekend was Walt's "Dirty Thirty," so we celebrated with Big Green Egg pulled pork, macaroni & cheese, "yucky" beans, and cake. Coconut cake that is. It took two attempts to get it right, but let's just say the second cake's results were well worth the tears from the collapse of the first. I will remake and repost the recipe here soon—it's too delicious not to share! Until then...

Here's my latest

— Yes, you read that right: I made buttery popcorn ice cream! Served with caramel sauce and homemade Cracker Jack, it may just be the best new flavor combination since RC Cola's and Moonpies! It's Ice Cream week at The Kitchn, so hop on over to see what else is churning. (via The Kitchn)

— In keeping with my "Ultimate Snack Bar" theme (see Nutty Bars and Cracker Jack), I devised a recipe for the famous Wendy's frosty. It was inspired by a dessert I enjoyed at a recent family reunion, and it's a dead ringer for the real thing! (via The Kitchn)

— Texas sheet cake is a much-loved favorite of the Dozier family. It was introduced to us by my Aunt Sylvie during an epic summer vacation to the Chesapeake Bay, and has been cherished all the years since. An oldie but a goodie. (via Cooking Channel)

And elsewhere around the web

— I don't use Instagram on my iPhone as much as I'd like (I am the worst about taking pictures), but I bet if I had this super awesome Instagram camera that I would be a memory-making machine! Unfortunately it's still in the development phase—fingers crossed it makes its way to the mass population soon.

— Do you have trouble accepting a compliment? My biggest issue is that I rarely believe the kind words people give to me, especially when they are focused towards my writing or cooking (which also happen to be my two greatest passions. Coincidence?). I always feel the need to dilute the compliment, for example, by explaining all of the things that could be better about a recipe instead of just saying thank you and moving on. Many thanks to Kate for sharing her thoughts about such an innocent yet on-point subject. (via Southern Belle Simple)

— What do you define as a grownup house? I've been guilty of "home envy" many times before, but it wasn't until I got engaged that I started channeling that negative energy into positive by focusing instead on just making our house our home. Decorating can be a huge investment, but I'm learning if you choose quality over quantity, and make the bigger purchases over an extended period of time, it will all eventually come together as it should. I adore where we are now (both in home and in life), and I look forward to reflecting back one day on how far we've come since our single days in a rickety Venice beach shack. (via Apartment Therapy)

— How fascinating it is to catch a glimpse beyond the culinary curtain of the Playboy Mansion, but I found it even more fascinating to learn about Hugh Hefner's strict daily meal regimine. I laughed out loud when I learned he eats the same breakfast every single day—a Winchell's jelly donut and half a grapefruit. That man is full of surprises! (via Gourmet Live)

— My body clock has always been about two hours out of sync with Walt's—he goes to sleep before me and gets up before me, too. This is a perfect example of how I feel when he tries to wake me up in the mornings! (via WhatShouldWeCallMe)

— Here's a really interesting look at the conceptualization process of a cookbook—in this instance it took many months for cookbook author Andrew Friedman and Top Chef winner Harold Dieterle to hash out a marketable book idea. The follow up post is just as enlightening, revealing how the two work together to take Harold's recipes from Michelin-starred to mainstream. (via Toqueland)

Recipe: Mozza's Meatballs al Forno

I've read enough food writing to know that way up North, Italian transplants and their offspring love a good Sunday sauce. The stories are often the same, a nostalgic reflection of nonna cooking up her famous meatballs and lasagna for the entire family gathered around the table. I must admit, the prose is often sweet enough to make this Southern girl want to move to Jersey. Well, almost...

Instead, I'll just have to make myself some meatballs. Considering I didn't grow up with a secret family recipe, it's taken me quite some time to find one I deemed worthy of all the sentimental hype. But then I tried these. And these just might give Italian grandmothers everywhere a run for their olive oil.

Leave it to The Mozza Cookbook, of Nancy Silverton fame, to be the keeper of the ultimate meatball recipe. When I lived in Los Angeles, Mozza was just two blocks from my Melrose apartment. You couldn't get a dinner reservation to save your life, but if you got there early enough at lunchtime you could experience the wonder that is their burrata caprese or prosciutto di parma pizza. It seems everything Nancy touches turns to culinary gold.

So yes, the Mozza meatballs were quite divine: I served them with spaghetti and a lightly dressed arugula salad. It was pure dinner-time bliss. Were they a good idea to make on a Wednesday? Probably not. Turns out there's good reason to make them on a weekend. (It's called time.) But tomorrow's meatball subs might make me forget that tiny little detail. And the meatball margherita pizza come Friday? All is forgiven. Heck, maybe I'll even make them again on Sunday, to share with those I love.

MOZZA'S MEATBALLS AL FORNO
Source: adapted from The Mozza Cookbook by Nancy Silverton
Yields: 24 - 28 meatballs

These meatballs are as promised—light, tender, and packed with flavor. Definitely the best I've ever made! To handle the large yield when frying them, I used my trusty industrial-sized saute pan purchased from a restaurant supply store. It was $30 very well spent. The passata recipe makes a delicious all-purpose tomato sauce. I'm certain, In fact, that it is going to be my go-to recipe from here on out. There's no hidden "chef" ingredients lurking; just be sure to use the best quality canned tomatoes you can find and your favorite extra virgin olive oil.

For the passata di pomodoro:
2 (28-ounce) cans whole peeled tomatoes, preferably San Marzano
1/4 cup good-quality extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon sugar, plus more to taste
1 scant tablespoon kosher salt
1 heaping teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

For the meatballs:
1 pound ground pork (preferably pork butt)
1 pound ground veal
6 1/2 ounces pancetta
3/4 cup diced day-old, crustless bread
1/4 cup whole milk
1 1/2 cups freshly grated Parmesan (about 6 ounces), plus more for grating
1/2 large onion, minced (about 1 cup)
2/3 cup finely chopped Italian parsley
4 large garlic cloves, minced
2 extra large eggs, lightly beaten (or 2 1/2 large eggs)
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes, or more to taste
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

For cooking:
1 cup all-purpose flour, for dredging
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil, plus more as needed
1 quart Passata de Pomodoro (recipe above) or tomato sauce
1 quart (32 ounces) chicken stock
3 dried bay leaves
3 dried arbol chiles, optional

For the passata di pomodoro: Set a food mill fitted with the coarse disc over a large bowl. Pass the tomatoes with their juices through the mill and set aside. In a large saute pan, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat until very hot but not smoking. Slowly add the pureed tomato into the pan, using caution to prevent splattering. Stir in the sugar, salt, and pepper. Continue to cook at medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, for 30 minutes, until the sauce becomes thickened.

For the meatballs: Remove the pork, veal, and pancetta from the refrigerator and let come to room temperature, about 30 minutes. Finely chop or mince the pancetta in a miniature food processor.

Soak the diced bread cubes in milk for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, combine the Parmesan, onion, parsley, garlic, eggs, red pepper, salt, and pepper in a large bowl and mix thoroughly. Add the pork, veal, and pancetta to the Parmesan mixture and gently combine with your fingertips until just mixed. (Over-mixing or squeezing the meat will create tough meatballs.)

Place flour in a shallow bowl. Use a spring-form ice cream scoop to measure out your desired size meatballs (I like very large meatballs; the recipe suggests 2 ounces), and gently form a ball using the palms of your hand. Sprinkle a little flour on all sides of the meatball to form a light coating, shaking excess flour back into the bowl. Set the meatball on a sheet pan and repeat with remaining meat. Cover the pan with plastic wrap and refrigerate for a minimum of one hour, which is necessary for the meatballs to retain their shape while cooking.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In a large oven-proof saute pan, heat olive oil over medium-high heat until very hot but not smoking. (There should be about 1/4" of oil in the pan, so add more if necessary.) Working in 2 - 3 batches, add half the meatballs—making sure not to crowd the pan—to the hot oil and sear, flipping once, until they are golden brown, approximately 6 minutes. Return the seared meatballs to the sheet pan. Allow the oil to reheat, adding more if necessary. Repeat with remaining meatballs.

Discard the oil and wipe out the saute pan. Nestle the meatballs back in the pan. Stir together the passata and chicken stock in a pitcher or large bowl. Pour enough of the liquid to cover the meatballs and fill the bottom of the pan, but do not drown them (I used just a little over half and reserved the rest for reheating the meatballs later.) Braise the meatballs in the oven, uncovered, for one hour, until they are golden brown. Serve by themselves, or with spaghetti and garlic bread. Garnish with freshly grated Parmesan.

To reheat leftover meatballs, bring meatballs and reserved sauce to a gentle boil in a saute pan. Reduce heat to low and simmer until the meatballs are warmed through.