Coconut Layer Cake
By Kim Morgan • Mar 9th, 2009 • Category: Desserts
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First, I want to apologize for being gone so long without word. I hadn’t intended for this to happen, but what started as a few days turned into a week, quickly becoming two weeks and then more. Then all of a sudden I was lost and couldn’t find my way back. This is not something I plan to let happen again, and it is my intention to continue another year with Southern cooking.
It is hard to recall exactly when I stumbled into the pit. I found myself wondering how I ended up in such a dark place so suddenly. I don’t recall the fall and cannot retrace the steps that led me into the darkness.
Deep in the midst of my recoil, I found myself shaken even more by a call from my sister. The moment I heard her voice, I knew something was terribly wrong. “Where have you been?” she pleaded, “I have been trying to get you all day!” The call was about a death in the family. My younger brother Keith, a mere 52 years of age had just died without warning in his sleep. Numbness took hold of me and froze me in place. It would take a solid day of cooking to shake these overwhelming emotions loose.
As I journeyed home to be with my family, I wondered what I would be helping them cook in preparation for the memorial service. Although it might sound strange and cold that these thoughts should consume me; I assure you it is anything but cold and distant.
Before I got into town, Reverend Scott sat with my parents and sister to talk about my brother and how the service would be held. As the discussion came to a close he leaned in and asked if they had done this before and if they knew what to do after the memorial service. Before my parents and sister could answer, he gently proceeded by suggesting that they pick up some deli trays and bread at the grocery store. “People will be hungry when they get to the house,” he exclaimed.
At once, as if in unison, my parents and sister declared “Oh no! We are cooking the food and the menu is already planned.” The fact is, within 24 hours of my brother’s death, they had already sat and hashed over every detail of the menu; adding this dish and tossing out that suggestion. How could this be? How can a family focus on food at a time like this?
This is an easy question to answer. Cooking is one of the most genuine ways my family shows that they love and care. To honor my brother, we would prepare a feast to show our love for him. I arrived a couple days early to cook and help out; it was the best way I knew to help make a difference. Getting in after midnight only gave me a few hours rest before rising early. Fresh coffee, warm hugs and endless tears awaited me that morning. In no time, we had all donned our aprons and began cooking.
It was then that they shared the thoughtful menu and plan for the day. Although my input was requested, I chose to take a back seat, aiding only where needed. Working around the big island in the kitchen, we spent the better part of the morning prepping the food. Chopping, cutting and a host of other duties were met with tears, smiles and laughter as we shared stories remembering my brother.
Around mid-day I decided to speak up. “The menu is wonderful. But why aren’t we making Keith’s favorite, apple pie? He always asked mom to make it for his birthday.” No one knew the answer to this, but it was agreed that we needed to add this to the menu. We decided to make individual mini apple crostadas. We all pitched in to make 60 apple crostadas in addition to the already impressive 12″ carrot cake that my sister had made, the 50 miniature cheesecakes and the 100 chocolate crepes that my mom had made days before. Running out of food was not an option.
The apple crostadas were a joint effort. My dad sat peeling and dicing the apples while I made the dough. My mom formed the dough into 6″ rounds then handed them back to me to fill. My sister glazed them and watched them as they baked in the oven, taking them out when done. They turned out lovely as all the food did and we couldn’t help but sense that my brother was pleased.
I had mixed the dough in my sisters old style Kitchen Aid, commenting on how lucky she was to have one like it. She was surprised to find out I didn’t own the old style and offered me one. It was Keith’s. He had an old style Kitchen Aid that was sitting in storage awaiting his move. I accepted the offer, tears running down my face with a huge lump in my throat. “I would love it. Do you think that would be okay with him?” With a smile, she agreed, “Of course.”
A few weeks before his death, my sister had a party with a menu that Keith really liked. It sounded so good to him, he had to ask. He was in the process of moving back home and had asked if she would recreate the meal for him as a celebration for his move and start of his new life in New England. In his honor, and for his pleasure, we recreated the meal for him at his memorial service.
Chicken breasts stuffed with goat cheese and sun dried tomatoes, filet mignon with horseradish sauce, shrimp newburg, and loaves of Dad’s homemade french bread. Salad, french green beans, cheesy scalloped potatoes, wild rice along with a host of appetizers and of course, dessert.
My cousin bought a filet a few days before the service. “How can you bring your family a slab of raw meat?” questioned those around her, suggesting at least a cooked filet. “Oh no,” my cousin insisted. “This is what will make them happy.” She knew it seemed strange but also knew that they would want to cook it themselves; preparing it the way only they know best. “That is how they say ‘I love you.’ That much I know about your parents, Kim.”
That Saturday was a beautiful, sunny cold day in Connecticut. The service was perfect; simple, just as my brother would have wanted. The food was wonderful, everyone ate well.
Ryan; Keith’s son, came home from Iraq on a two week leave to bring his dad from Texas to Connecticut. Ryan is a tall handsome young man, with kind eyes’ like my brothers. My sister told him the story of the Kitchen Aid. She asked Ryan if he would mind if I had his father’s old style Kitchen Aid. He smiled and asked if I would think of his dad every time I used it. “Yes,” she said. “Of course,” he replied. “I would like that and so would dad.”
Family’s can tug on us, pulling our strings in both good and what sometimes seems like bad ways. My family is no exception. I didn’t stay in touch with my brother very much, and regret my foolish thinking. I thought I had all the time in the world. There are so many things left unsaid. I hope and pray that he is watching and listening as I enjoy the gift of the Kitchen Aid that was once his.
As I begin to cook with passion once again, I have a chance to say “I love you, Keith” especially when I serve up a slice of apple pie, his favorite. But for now, how about a slice of Coconut Layer Cake?
Coconut Cake w/ Coconut Cream Filling and Seven-Minute Frosting
2 cups sifted cake flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup( 1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup superfine sugar
4 large egg yolks, lightly beaten
2/3 cup sour cream
1 teaspoon vanilla
11 ounces sweetened or unsweetened coconut ( see note below)
- Heat oven to 350 degrees arranging the two racks in the center of the oven. Line the 3-6″x 2″ buttered cake pans with parchment paper. Dust the bottom and the sides with a little cake flour and shake off the excess.
- Sift the flour, baking powder and soda, salt and set aside in a bowl.
- Cream the butter on medium-low spread until mixture is fluffy, this will take 1 to 2 minutes to do.
- Gradually add the sugar, and keep beating until the mixture is light in color and fluffy once again, about 3 minutes.
- Gradually drizzle in the egg yolk, beating on medium-low speed between each addition until the batter is no longer slick.
- Beat once again till light and fluffy, which should take another 3 minutes.
- Alternate by adding the flour mixture and the sour cream to the batter, a little at a time, starting and ending with the flour mixture. Beat in the vanilla.
- Divide the mixture into the prepared pans.
- Smooth the tops.
- Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, rotating the pans in the oven, if needed for even browning, until a cake tester comes out clean.
- Transfer the cakes to a wire rack to cool, about 15 minutes.
- Remove cake from the pans and let cool completely on racks, with the tops up.
- To assemble the cake, remove the parchment paper from the bottom of cakes. Split each layer in half horizontally with a serrated knife.
- Set aside the prettiest half for the top of the cake.
- Place another cake half dome side down on top of a cake plate or serving platter.
- Spread a generous 1/2 cup coconut-cream filling over the cake.
- Sprinkle 2 to 3 tablespoons of coconut on top of filling, then top with a cake half.
- Repeat the process until all but the reserved cake half has been used, making sure that you use up all the filling. I had leftovers and wish I had added more filling in the layers even though it appears to be to much-it isn’t. The cake absorbs some of the filling.
- Top the cake with the saved half and refrigerate till until firm about 1 hour.
- Remove from the refrigerator, and frost the outside of the cake with Seven-Minute frosting.
- Sprinkle the remaining coconut flakes over the top and onto the sides pressing in gently.
- Cake can be left out at room temperature for several days, though I like my coconut cake cold from the ice-box.
Coconut-Cream Filling
6 large egg yolks
3/4 cup sugar
6 tablespoons cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
3 cups milk
4 ounces ( 11/2 cups) sweetened angle-flake coconut
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon unsalted butter for coating plastic wrap
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Place egg yolks in a large bowl; whisk to combine; set bowl aside.
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Combine sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a medium saucepan.
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Gradually add milk, whisking constantly.
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Cook stirring, over medium heat until mixture thickens and just begins to bubble, 10 to 12 minutes.
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Remove from heat, stir in coconut and vanilla.
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Transfer filling to a medium mixing bowl. Lightly butter a piece of plastic wrap, and place it directly on top of the filling to prevent a skin from forming.
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Chill the filling until firm about 1 hour or so. You may make the filling a day ahead.
Seven-Minute Frosting
Damon lee Fowler, New Southern Baking
Makes about 4 cups
4 large egg whites
1 pound(2 cups) sugar
9 tablespoons water
2 teaspoons homemade Bourbon Vanilla or 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
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Prepare the bottom pan of a large double boiler with 1 inch of water and bring it to a simmer over medium heat, then reduce the heat to a slow simmer.
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In the top pot, off heat, combine the egg whites, sugar and water and beat until the sugar is dissolved.
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Place the pan over simmering water in the lower half of the double boiler, making sure that it doesn’t directly touch the water.
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Beat for 7 minutes with a whisk or hand held mixer at medium speed, or until the frosting stands in soft peaks.
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Remove it immediately from over the boiling water and beat in the flavoring.
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Continue beating until the frosting is thick enough to spread, and ice the cake at once.
Don’t make up your frosting until you are ready to frost the cake as it will harden and crust over. This was my third attempt and recipe for this simple frosting, the others were grainy where as this recipe was light and fluffy.
A 6″ layer cake has become my favorite. The size is just right when you are not serving a big crowd, or want temptation at a minimum. I also like the height and proportions of a 6′ cake whether it has 4, 5or 6 layers.
You have a few options when making this cake, the first is what kind of coconut you want to use. I chose pre-shaved unsweetened coconut and found that it was just right in making a cake that wasn’t so sweet. Next, you choose the amount of layers you want, and thirdly you have the option to toast the coconut for the top and sides.
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Kim Morgan is the aspiring writer, photographer & passionate cook of ayankeeinasouthernkitchen.com; she is currently cooking Southern food, one stick of butter at a time.
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I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. All my condolences to you and your family…
I’m glad to be able to read you again, though… This cake is magnificent! The memorial service meal was well-thought. A great way to remember and mourn your brother.
Kind regards,
Rosa
I am so sorry for the loss of you brother, thoughts and prayers are with you.
This story was beautiful, what a wonderful family you have.
I am so sorry for your loss.
I’m so sorry for your loss- my thoughts are with you and your family. Your family’s desire to cook through that period in their lives certainly makes sense, and I’m sure it’s a wonderful, if small, bit of comfort.
Kim, I am so sorry for your loss. Your writing was captivating and heart wrenching. This must be such a difficult time for you and your family.
I too am so sad to hear of your loss and the dark time preceding it. I hope you have found your way back to joy in the southern spring sun.
Thank you for sharing the healing power of memories and food – and how sometimes they are combined.
My this season of rebirth continue to energize you.
Thinking of you during this sad period. So sorry to hear about your loss.
I’m so incredibly sorry to hear about your loss. It’s so great that your family was able to come together and cook in honor of your brother.
wonderful post and nice to see you back here
choked me up at the ’sight’ of your family in the kitchen all cooking together
my brother will be 52 in 4 months
if i ever lost him… well, i simply can’t imagine.
the cake looks incredible
seriously devine
but i live for cake….
Welcome back. I am so sorry for your loss. I do not think it strange that your family should cook and fuss over the perfect meal for your brother. Food is the center of my family’s expressions of love as well. Nothing said I love you more than my mother’s french toast, bacon and coffee. When she passed that was our breakfast just before the funeral. I am certain that your brother is smiling knowing that his Kitchen aid is continuing to be used in these expressions of love.
Kim-
I was wondering what had happened to you…I am so sorry about your brother. I believe you captured your love for him here, even though you were out of touch. How lucky of you to have his mixer, you will think of him everytime it whirls around, and he will remember you.
Good to have you back.
The image of your whole family working together in the kitchen, passing around the apple crostadas to each contribute your portion is so beautiful to me. I’m so sorry for your loss.
I’m so sorry about your brother but I’m really glad you’re back! There are so many things about food that I just know you understand. Through too many funerals I’ve seen how food brings people together, helps them to remember and so helps them to grieve. It is a thread that keeps us connected, with the future and into the past.
I am so sorry for your loss. It is amazing how food can bring people together in times of sadness.
You have confirmed what we all know…that cooking is about love and comfort; a way to calm ourselves, a way to reach out to others and a way to honor those we love. Ironically, tonight I made my father’s famous lemon chicken – a time honored recipe – and a ritual that is comforting to us especially now that he is gone. Your brother certainly is honored by your time in the kitchen as a family.
You brought tears to my eyes Kim, God bless you and your family, may He give you comfort. Every time you post I’m going to be thinking about that kitchen aide and all the wonderful love your going to make with it. Your cake is beautiful.
Well,”Lady”,we are so sad for your loss,and you may be a Yankee in a Southern Kitchen,but outside your windows,you have pleanty of “Southern Prayers”,going towards the Heavenly Father,for you and your family!! We all enjoy the Coconut Cake it looks so good!! I always made my wife,one of these out of fresh coconut,and stuck the knife down it,and put a little of the coconut milk in the cracks,before final frosting.May ” GOD BLESS”!!
With sympathy for your loss.
I’m so sorry for your loss. But I am glad your back. I will keep you and your family in my prayers.
I am so very sorry for your loss. Your family sounds so very wonderful, and I pray that God continue to strengthen all of you and draw you all even closer together. And I am so glad to have you back.
I am so sorry to hear of your loss, and what a wonderful tribute to him to make such a feast for all the visitors.
I am sorry to hear of your loss. My heartfelt sympathy and prayers to you and your entire family. I was glad to see your post and the cake looks wonderful. Kind Regards, Ann
well, a big ol’ “WELCOME BACK” to ya! and what a fine return it is–this cake is stellar in at least a hundred different ways. bravo.
I’m so sorry for your loss, and I’m really glad you’re back.
So sorry to hear about your loss. Your story was touching and I’m sure somewhere in some way Keith knows that he’s loved and missed.
Oh honey, I am so sorry for your loss. I have tears in my eyes as you talk about your nephew having “kind eyes like your brother” Food can be so comforting, you all used it as a way to remember your brother, there is nothing cold about that.
Kim: I, too, am so sorry for your loss of your brother. Your family sounds so wonderful and what a way to honor your brother -with a feast no less. The time shared preparing that feast must have brought great comfort to each and everyone of you. I am SO glad you are back – I have missed you – the recipes and the great writings. For a long while, I checked on a daily basis. We all are entitled to check out from time to time, but glad you have checked back in! Sallie
P.S. Coconut cake is my favorite!
Kim, I’m so sorry about your brother. Your story about how food honors, comforts, and expresses love brought tears to my eyes.
I’m sorry for your loss. Your memorial dinner sounds like a beautiful tribute.
There is nothing cold about focusing on food when death occurs. Food is an essential part of death rites in cultures all over the world. (I’ll spare you the long-winded anthropological essay.)
By the way, I am glad to see that you’re back. (Though my keyboard is not quite so glad… it was enjoying a welcome respite from the drool your pictures provoked.
)
Oh, Kim… In my heart I knew something had happened. I had emailed you… I had ’spoken’ to other bloggers. I was worried. I did pray for you, but not knowing what for. I am sorry that you have lost your brother. Your family came together and prepared a wonderful feast. I wish I could have helped in some way. While I am glad to know you are physically ok, I would understand if emotionally you needed more time. Many hugs, my friend.
Kim, I’m breaking my silence as a lurker to say that I’m so sorry for your loss.
This blog post is a beautiful memorial to your brother. For me, the pictures of your coconut cake layered in with your story of his service bear silent witness to what I have certainly experienced with the passing of family members: We go on living, somehow, as we grieve and remember.
My co-founders and I were so moved by your writing that we named you BlogHer of the Week, in the hopes that as many people as possible will read this post. More here: http://www.blogher.com/blogher-week-yankee-southern-kitchen
You’re in my thoughts.
Goodness. I’m thinking about my own brother who is 50, and how a phone call like the one you received could come without warning. I understand the comfort and peace that preparing food brings and you’ve certainly conveyed your love for your brother here in your writing and in the cake you’ve shared. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Hi Kim! lots of hugs to welcome you back and lots of hugs in sympathy for the loss of your brother. Your writing is funny and touching as always. I think we all have some personal experience with depression – whether direct or with a friend or family member – it is such a bleak place – I am so glad you’re back. Who else will inspire me to make my own baking powder? xoxoxo – Lisa
I love how you speak the language of food. Smell and taste are our first contacts with family. Congratulations on your return to savoring life. May your new/old mixer contribute to your family’s health and happiness.
I add my sentiments to the other readers. I’m sorry about the death of your brother. However, the way that you have described how your family so lovingly prepared everything is very touching. I look forward to reading more of your blog. I love Southern food and the Southern way of life. Thank you for having such a homey, fabulous blog!
Kim,
Good morning. Losing a loved one is never easy, I am sorry for your loss. The story of cooking with your famlily to celebrate the life of your brother seemed very comforting, may God be with you all.
Sorry for your loss. I just found your site looking for southern recipes.
I bookmarked it,and moved it to the top to visit often!!!
Barbara
I did a multi-layer cake like that once and the layers slid all over the place. It was a mess. Yours looks much better!!
Your blog is wonderful. I have added you to my “blogs of note” at http://www.Recipegirl.com/blog, but I have you in an ‘unknown location’ category. (I have them arranged geographically). If you would like to be moved to your appropriate geographical location (by state or country outside of US), please contact me to let me know! Thanks
I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m impressed the care you took to make his memorial so special. Take care and I can’t wait to try your cake.
Glad to see you’re back……so sorry to read of the loss of your brother.
~ingrid
Kim,
I am very sorry for your loss. He was a young man and it sounds like he will be dearly missed.
I had wondered what happened to you. I kept stopping by and stopping by hoping to find a new post.
Good to have you back. You were missed.
Donald
It took me all this time to bring myself to read this post about your brother as I knew it would make me cry thinking about mine. I had to smile at the similarity of our attitudes towards their dear possession: I ended up bringing home two of his film cameras and a couple of his portfolios. It hurts to think of all this talent taken away so early but at the same time, I think about him everytime I pick up my camera and hope to make him proud.
My deepest condolences to you and your family Kim.
sorry for your loss
I’m very sorry for your loss; I lost my sister when she was only 47, and it felt as though our family was lopsided! It took me a long time to overcome the feeling that there was a large hole in our family. Well, now my older sister and I are the only ones left, and we’re lucky to have each other!
Your family does sound wonderful and loving, and I hope that you’ll have many times in the future to be together, love one another, and COOK! It was indeed a great tribute to your brother that you could come together and do that for him.
I’ll have to try this coconut cake recipe; it looks absolutely wonderful. Thanks, Kim, for sharing it (as well as others) with us. I can’t wait to try this and the Peach Pound Cake. I’ll have to wait til next summer for some good South Carolina peaches!