Favorite of the Day: TAG's Carrot Cake

It’s September—and finally less than 90 degrees—which somehow flips the switch for every American to suddenly crave drinking a Pumpkin Spice Latte while navigating a corn maze in a giant flannel shirt. Don’t worry, I’m guilty of that, too.

Good news: I’m here to tell you there’s more to fall than pumpkin-flavored-everything. Really, all you need is this:

TAG’s Favorite Carrot Cake.

You might ask, “What is a TAG?” but the correct question isn’t what—it’s who.

TAG (Theodore Alfred Guarasci) is my grandfather, or Papaw as our family knows him. His initials not only serve as the name we give to hostesses at restaurants and to baristas at Starbucks (good luck spelling “Jorie” or “Hodapp” in a hurry), but more importantly they made up the name of TAG Market, his grocery store in Ohio.

What’s important about my grandfather is that the man loves (LOVES) carrot cake. His standards, though, for carrot cake are very high: can’t be too dense, too dry, to carrot-y, too crunchy, too smooth, too sweet, or too spiced. At least, those are the characteristics I’ve gathered from our family’s evaluation of multiple types of carrot cakes, and we like to consider ourselves experts.

It’s no secret that the road to any good Italian’s heart is through their stomach, and carrot cake has an express pass. Just mentioning the words causes a Pavlov’s Dog-type response among the famiglia. Well, except for one member.

Full transparency: Carrot Cake has always been one of my least favorite cakes to make. Thankfully, I’ve outgrown that opinion and now I enjoy creating the rustic swirls of cream cheese and pecans. But for the longest time, my grandpa would literally ask for one thing—one thing ever!—a carrot cake, and I would dread making it because of the temperamental nature of the soft cream cheese frosting. So I just wouldn’t make it unless it was for a customer. Seriously, I used to groan at the very thought of having to decorate with that stuff because it would just slide of the cake and be an ugly mess.

What I didn’t realize, though, is that ugly mess tastes FANTASTIC.

So I learned how to make a stiffer, workable frosting, and taught myself how to like making carrot cakes. Clearly, they aren’t going out of style any time soon, especially not when you have 76 Italian relatives.

I’m here to say that I might have been wrong about carrot cake. Though I still don’t understand WHY there are CARROTS in a CAKE, or better yet, WHO came up with that idea(?), I’d like to point out the simple fact that it. tastes. good.

My grandpa-approved carrot cake includes a high ratio of finely shredded carrots and chopped pecans flavored with a cinnamon undertone that seems to refine the aromatic batter. Top the golden orange cake with generous swirls of vanilla cream cheese frosting, and you’ve got yourself breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

At first you think it tastes the best warm from the oven (even without frosting), and then you try it chilled to perfection after the flavors have macerated, and you realize that it just got even better. There’s moisture from the carrots, crunch from the pecans, and silky smooth cream from the frosting. It really has something for everyone.

If you’re looking to complete your fall menu, carrot cake is the way to go. Don’t take it from me, just as my grandpa. He’ll tell you it’s the best thing you’ll ever eat (that is, if I’m in the mood to make it!).

Good news, now I’m always in the mood to make it. ;)

Happy fall, y’all!

jorie

FAQ #3: What should I order?

FAQ #2: So what should I order, cakes or cupcakes?

It’s wedding season, friends! Especially if you’re almost 23 and a recent college grad living in the South. Weddings all around! And with weddings, come wedding cakes. And now wedding cupcakes.

One of the conversations I have the most with my wedding/event-planning customers centers around deciding on the perfect balance of cakes and cupcakes, and which one better suits their vision.

Often times, the answer is both.

A gorgeous 3-tiered cake and dozens of minis, August 2019. One of my forever favorites!

Here’s what you should consider when deciding on your order:

• Cupcakes offer convenience, flavor options, and, well, fun! They’re a great way to supplement serving sizes and offer flavors for everyone. You don’t need to cut, plate, or serve them, which makes them about the easiest party desserts around.

• Cakes are showstoppers. They start conversations, can be customized to the nth degree, and will likely be remembered long after the event. Bonus points if your guests ask, “that’s a cake?!”.

Graduation cake and minis, May 2020. The perfect combination!

If we were sitting at a tasting right now and you asked my advice for your wedding, birthday, office party, etc., I’d tell you this: order both. Yeah, sounds a little over the top. But you’ll thank me later!

The convenience of cupcakes is unbeatable, but sometimes the presentation can leave a little to be desired. Don’t get me wrong, a cupcake table done right is exquisite. However, it takes lots of cake stands, vases of flowers, and bunched up table clothes to make the display come to life. I mean, have you ever seen any of the displays they make on cupcake wars?! Those things are works of art in themselves, and those carpenters are the real winners in my book.

A cupcake display, May 2020.

Where cupcakes might lack a little luster, that’s where cakes, um, take the cake (pun intended). They’re their own centerpieces. You simply can’t have a cake cutting at your wedding without a cake! It doesn’t need to be an 8-tier waterfall cake with 200 gumpaste roses on a moving platform to be a statement, either. A 6” cake with a rustic buttercream texture and a fresh flower does the trick. Cakes give your eye a resting place on a dessert table. They’re the glue that brings everything else together.

Wedding cake table, June 2015. Quite a big statement!

So here’s why this world needs cakes and cupcakes: customization and convenience. Just think, we’re all driven by these values. We shouldn’t have to settle for one or the other. And, heck, if we want to try 7 different flavors of cupcakes, we should have that option.

My second wedding cake table, October 2014. I’ve learned a lot about tablescapes since then, but for a 17-year-old, I think it’s pretty good!

Thus far in my baking career, I’ve done 12 weddings (the first one when I was 15), and 10 of those have been a mix of a cake and cupcakes. Some couples only wanted cupcakes! Which just shows us the power of convenience paired with our industry’s obsession with the bite-size cakes.

But please, don’t do that!

Get a cake too!

If only for the sake of appeasing your baker (me) and for the cake-in-each-others’-faces picture that will sit in a frame on your desk forever. Order a cake with your cupcakes!

If you’re feeling even more dainty and petite, order mini cupcakes. And order a lot of them. Because—not to point any fingers—most men tend to eat them in one bite, and usually eat a minimum of 3. So plan on ordering about 2 per person.

One last cake & cupcake table, September 2019. Stunning with that mirror in the back!

At the end of the day, if I’m going to have dessert, nothing beats a piece of cake (see my post about my favorite cake for an example). However, I’ll never turn down a cupcake— I’ll just make it into a sandwich before I eat it (you know, like I wrote about here!).

Next time you’re torn between ordering a cake or cupcakes, either order both or call me. I have a lot of opinions on this topic, and I’m happy to share anything that will bring your vision to life.

Talk Soon!

jorie

**Given the covid-19 circumstances, cupcakes may be your best bet. Single-serve, wrapped, and easy to package. However, never underestimate the celebratory power of a slice of cake!

The Story Continues: Chef in Training

Hello Again!

If you came back to read this post, you must be okay with the fact that I’m a Cupcake Camp dropout, and for that, I thank you!

Jorie, circa 2000, proudly holding my very own gingerbread house. Disclaimer: I will continue using baby pictures because my self-esteem is not ready for pictures of 12-14 year-old Jorie to hit the internet (braces and glasses were not my look).

Anyway, let’s pick up where we left off, shall we?

I believe I just revealed that I dropped out of Cupcake Camp.

I mean really, you can’t expect me, a savvy twelve-year-old with purpose and discipline, to return to that barbarian cupcake camp ridden with who-knows-what kind of diseases. Sigh. Square one, again. 

That fall after my failed attempt at summer camp my mom came across cake decorating classes at the local craft store. She called to sign my same friend and I up for redemption. Unbeknownst to us, we had to be sixteen to take the class by ourselves. Problem solved, Mom’s coming too!

We trudge through the Ohio snow to arrive at the first class of “Buttercream Basics.” Little did we know that Betty Crocker herself would be our instructor. Okay, may not actually Betty, but Miss Sandy was pushing 85 and had never gone a day without wearing an apron; though she could make a mean buttercream rose in her sleep. After four weeks of Miss Sandy’s strict frosting bootcamp, we all knew how to make a round cake with a rainbow and clowns on it. Pure elegance. 

We received our Buttercream Basics diplomas (except for my friend, who hated the class, and everything related to cake decorating, and decided to hang up her apron. FYI—she is very talented in other areas!), and that was that. 

Except, aha! THIS could be how I make my money! 

After all, I did love the decorating and took to it easily. With a little practice, I’d be off and running in no time, right?

Have you ever taken a bite of sand?

Jorie, 2013, proudly standing behind the very first wedding cake I ever made. I was 15, and was so very close to exiting that very awkward stage of life (see note above).

That was my starting point for a from-scratch vanilla cake recipe. That little bit of practice I thought I’d need turned into many months of recipe testing with many failed attempts and many dollars spent on wasted ingredients. You’d be surprised how many “Light and Fluffy White Cake” and “Best Vanilla Cupcake” recipes result in gritty hockey pucks better used as paperweights or adhesive paste than delicate desserts. 

I paused on the cake testing at the gentle urge of my parents who were tired of trying terrible samples and pretending they “weren’t that bad.” In the meantime, a little frosting recipe testing could pass the time until we were ready to brave the cake arena yet again. 

The buttercream recipe I was taught in cupcake class was made from, how do you say it—lard. Yeah, that white slimy stuff that comes in the giant Crisco cans that we’re 98% sure comes from unpleasant animal parts. (In my opinion, that shouldn’t classify as buttercream. You know, since it’s not butter. Though I suppose if they marketed it as lardcream, no one would willingly partake.) The lard alone was a turnoff, but the fact that my mom’s entire kitchen and everything in it was coated with a hefty layer of shortening didn’t help its cause. Gross. 

Upon further research with a hint of a miracle, I learned that American-style buttercream omits the lard. Woohoo! Leave it to America to commit to 100% butter. Thank you for your service, Ms. Paula Deen. One trip to Sam’s Club and 25 pounds of butter and powdered sugar later, I found my recipe, and haven’t turned back since. 

The infamous Salted Caramel Cupcake that looked amazing, but literally tasted like a mouthful of sand, circa 2012.

I won’t bore you with the rest of the recipe testing stories, but just know that my salted caramel cupcakes have improved roughly 9000% since my first attempt (which I served on a family vacation where everyone politely found the trash can after one bite. Sorry, Guarasci’s and Bruning’s). 

Here I’ll leave you, wondering if my family ever lets me bake for them again (hint: they did, reluctantly).

Thanks for reading!

Cheers!
jorie

Yes, I'm a Cupcake Camp Dropout...

Well Hello, There!

Jorie, circa 1998. As you can tell, I’ve always had a deep love for cake.

If you’ve made it to this page, you must want to know the *real* reason I started Jorie Cakes. I can’t make it up, I really can’t. It’s my hope that you’ll find as much joy reading as I do writing—and enticing you with dreamy cake pictures—throughout my ten-years-and-counting cake story. 

Before we dive in to twelve-year-old Jorie, here are the bullet points of who I am now, though lacking details such as my love for trees and my strict diet comprised of the pairing of chocolate and peanut butter.

I am:

Jorie, circa September 2019, in the cake-baking off-season.

• A Dublin, Ohio, native who’s now found her way out of the brutal winters to sunny Atlanta, GA

• A 22-year-old senior at Berry College in Rome, GA (check it out!)

• A member of the Berry Women’s Golf Team, my other life passion, as you can see

• An only child (I’ll forgive you if you don’t want to read after this point, I know only children are the worst)

• A Christian, whose life is fully dependent on the grace I constantly receive from God (because I’m totally incapable of anything on my own, trust me)

• A self-proclaimed foodie & Food Network addict, with the occasional Say Yes to the Dress marathon

• An avid yogi, grocery store aficionado, and research junkie (there’s so much to learn!)

That’s me in a nutshell. Now we can get on to the story you really came here for. Sit back, flip on Food Network in the background, and scroll through the first installment of my story. Enjoy!

Summer, 2009:

I was twelve. A very mature twelve, but nonetheless a kid in search of a job. I have no idea what I so desperately wanted money for (Littlest Pet Shop? American Girl Dolls? A trip to the mall with my middle school friends?), but I found myself in search of an income. 

The logical solution? Babysitting *shivers*. Okay, it can’t be that bad. Oh, it was bad. At least the one time I tried it, it was bad. If I had any say-so in the matter, I would never again willingly find myself in charge of someone else’s kids, no matter how good the pay was. Scratch that off the list. Back to square one. What else can a twelve-year-old do? No babysitting, definitely no dog or cat sitting (tried that, too), and not old enough for a big-girl job. 

My first little cupcake army, circa 2011, NOT made at Cupcake Camp. *Also shot this photo on an iPod touch, because that’s what middle schoolers did.

Here we go—Cupcake Summer Camp! 

Sounded like a blast. And a blast it was—for all the wrong reasons. That summer, a friend invited me to cupcake camp at our local, successful bakery. Coming from a big Italian family, I’d always been a natural in the kitchen. My mom taught me how to use a butcher knife to cut my after-preschool apples at the age of four when I refused to use the inefficient plastic kiddy knives. 

Anyway, here we are at cupcake camp, the oldest campers in what seemed like a glorified daycare center in the back room of this bakery. Everything was going great. I cracked my singular egg into the bowl and returned to my seat. 

Then, the horror. 

The little girl next to me, who clearly lacked any sort of sanitary common sense or public decency, took her hands that were previously, um, in a place they shouldn’t have been, AND STUCK THEM IN THE BATTER. Gasp! Yes, she took her hands out of her drawers, put them in the batter, LICKED THEM, and PUT THEM BACK IN THE BATTER! 

*faints*

It’s true, and it’s a wonder I ever returned to the kitchen after that episode. As I, a self-proclaimed stress-cleaner and perpetual hand-washer, watched in sheer terror, I tightened my apron and willed myself to finish out the day. Upon returning home, my parents oohed and ahhed over my bakery case-worthy cupcakes but were stopped in their tracks when I yelled across the driveway, “DON’T EAT THOSE!” to my dad as he had a cupcake halfway to his mouth. I explained the tragedy that had ensued only hours earlier, and the cupcakes promptly found their new home in the garbage.

That was day one. I’d tell you about days 2-5, but I wasn’t there for those. I’m sure they were great.

I guess this makes me a Cupcake Camp dropout. You know, maybe babysitting wasn’t so bad after all…

Thanks for reading! Check back to see how I overcame the horrors of Cupcake Camp, or subscribe below to have it delivered straight to your inbox.

Cheers!
jorie