You Can Keep Your Oreos

Well, hello there, strangers.  Long time no see!

While I was off in my start-of-the-year teaching crunch, which left me no evenings or weekends free to blog, I understand we had the 100th anniversary of America’s favorite sandwich cookie.  I can appreciate the basic charms of the Oreo as much as anybody, and when I was a teenager in Mexico I was obsessed with them, because this everyday All-American snack couldn’t be had by anyone not affiliated with the US Embassy and thus, they were the perfect symbol for my expatriate adolescent angst. I would insist on my father bringing as many packages as he could from his business trips back to the home office, just so I could feel “normal” for the few days they lasted.

But that phase is mercifully in my past now, and as a grown-up I can also look critically at the little hockey pucks and acknowledge the fact that they’re not really all they’re cracked up to be, which is why I’m going to make up for my latest intermittent silence with a recipe for what I think is the best sandwich cookie in the world.

Alfajores are to Argentina what the chocolate chip cookie is to the U.S.  They’re ubiquitous and can be found in iterations from the mass-produced, individually-wrapped Hostess-equivalent kinds purchasable at the convenience store to the high-end boutique variety in beribboned boxes. When I was growing up and into my adulthood, every relative who visited was expected to bring us at least one box of my personal favorite brand. (Are we sensing a theme about international cookie commissioning by me as a kid?  I was way ahead of the curve on free trade.)

So what are alfajores?  Well, besides being sadly unknown in this hemisphere, confusing to pronounce (all-fah-hor-es) and what I think should replace the macaron as the next fad, they’re shortbready disks faintly hinting at lemon pressed around a layer of dulce de leche, although you can also find fruit-filled ones.  The commercial kind are generally enrobed in either a crackly, powdery sugar glaze or a smooth semisweet chocolate one, which is wonderful but way too much bother for home baking.  Home bakers instead make an easier but no less delicious version in which the cookies, made with cornstarch (the maizena of the name below) for a perfectly delicate crumb, are filled and rolled in coconut to keep the dulce de leche from sticking to your fingers.

Like the Oreo, this is one of those things that sounds too basic to be all that great, but is actually dangerously addictive instead.  The cookies are buttery and tender and neither too oily nor too soft, the dulce de leche adds just the right amount of sweetness to the not-very-sweet cookies, the hint of citrus makes everything sparkle just the tiniest bit, and it all just really, really works.

If you absolutely insist on chocolate in your sandwich cookies, I still have you covered, because not having enough regular dulce de leche on hand, I made part of the batch with chocolate dulce de leche I picked up on sale at the local Whole Paycheck.  Personally, I remain unconvinced by the chocolate kind, which tastes generically fudgy to me and lacks the lovely milky, caramely flavor I think dulce de leche really ought to put front and center in order to live up to the name.  Man, did my coworkers disagree with me, though, because the chocolate ones were by far the favorites and were gone in a blink.

I also filled some with the hurricane plum jam I previously posted about, which worked so splendidly that I hoarded them at home and took none to work. If you use jam, be sure to use a very firm one so that the cookies don’t ooze apart.  You may need to cook it down a bit if what you have is too runny.

However you fill them, seriously, you have to try these.  The minute you do, I know you too will recognize their undeniable awesomeness.

Alfajores de Maizena
Makes about five dozen small cookies, or 2-3 dozen larger ones

For cookies:
1 ½ cups (200 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour
2 ½ cups (300 grams) cornstarch
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon sea salt
14 tablespoons (200 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature
¾ cup (150 grams) granulated sugar
3 large egg yolks
1 tablespoon brandy
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Zest of one medium lemon

For assembly:
One 16-ounce jar dulce de leche or very thick jam
1 cup shredded unsweetened coconut

Preheat oven to 350 F and line three baking sheets with parchment paper.

Sift the flour, cornstarch, baking powder, baking soda and salt through a fine sieve twice, the second time onto a large sheet of parchment or wax paper for easy transfer, and set aside.

In the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter and sugar.  Add the yolks one at a time, scraping down between additions. Beat in the brandy, vanilla and lemon zest.

Add the dry ingredients in three batches at low speed, mixing until just combined.  Turn onto a Silpat or the reserved parchment sheet that held the dry ingredients, and gently roll to a thickness of about a quarter of an inch or half a centimeter for thinner cookies, and double that for slightly puffier ones.  (Dust the rolling pin with cornstarch if sticking starts to occur.)

Cut the dough with 1½ to 2-inch diameter round cutters, being as careful as you can to minimize the waste.  Use a bench scraper or spatula to transfer the cookies to the baking sheets, spacing about an inch apart.  Gently pull the scraps together and re-roll to use up all the dough.

Bake the cookies just until firm and barely gold on the bottom.  Do not allow to brown on the top or sides.  Remove to a cooling rack immediately and cool completely.

Once the cookies have cooled, form sandwiches by spreading a teaspoonful of dulce de leche or jam onto the bottom of one cookie, and covering with a second. Squeeze gently, just enough to push the filling out to the edges of the cookies.  Place the coconut in a small, shallow container and roll the edges of the cookies in the coconut to evenly coat the exposed filling.

Store the filled cookies in an airtight container, and consume within the next day or two.

Notes:

Because of the very high proportion of cornstarch to flour, the dough is much more resilient on re-rolling than standard dough, but it’s still a good idea to treat it gently to ensure tender cookies.

This is my mom’s recipe, by the way.  I just did the conversions from metric and put back the coconut, which she hates.  Thanks, Mom!

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The Apotheosis of the Forgotten Banana

Banana Buttermilk Cake with Dulce De Leche Cream Cheese Frosting

One of my favorite workday lunches is ice-cold fruit salad, obtained from a sidewalk food truck near my soon-to-be-ex office.  It’s quick, healthy, delicious, and during the summer, an embarrasingly cheap source of super-ripe, ready-peeled pineapple and mangoes.  There is also a small dividend in going this route: much as you would get a complimentary roll with your soup, the fruit truck gives you a banana on the side.

I usually save the banana for my mid-morning energy slump the next day, but sometimes I’m so tied up or un-hungry that the bananas just sit under my computer monitor, getting progressively browner, until I’m faced with the choice of wastefully throwing them out or taking them home and figuring out what to do with them.

I had two such pathetically neglected bananas this week.  Instead of taking my usual path of least resistance and freezing them for adding body and sweetness to a smoothie, I decided to incorporate them into a cake for Sunday baking. To kill three birds with one stone, I would ice this cake with a caramel frosting using that last straggling block of cream cheese and as much dulce de leche as I could reasonably cram in without losing structural integrity.

I set out with confidence, because as any Argentine kid will tell you, bananas and dulce de leche are a classic comfort-food combination, and the cake recipe I was starting with was Rose Levy Berenbaum’s, so it couldn’t possibly be anything less than great even after a couple of careful modifications.

Great, nothing; it was unbelievable. This is the most microscopically-crumbed, cloud-light, pillow-soft cake you have ever put in your mouth.  It’s the 1000-threadcount goosedown duvet of banana cakes.  His Lordship, who routinely mehs cake, practically skipped down to the kitchen for an unprecedented second serving, calling “More cake!” That’s how good this is.

The merest whiff of a critique is that it could have had just a teeny bit more you-lookin’-at-me? banana flavor to really stand up to the dulce de leche frosting, but I think that’s the fault of my slightly diminutive bananas, which measured a little less than the full cup that was called for.  That’s easily fixed next time (and oh, is there ever going to be a next time) with larger or extra bananas.

So go ahead. Willfully ignore your bananas until they turn not merely brown but thoroughly black and squishy, and then transmute them into this cake.  They will not only not reproach you, they will cry your praises as they ascend in majesty to assume their appointed place in the cakely pantheon.

Banana Buttermilk Cake with Dulce de Leche Cream Cheese Frosting
(Adapted from Rose Levy Berenbaum’s Cordon Rose Banana Cake, The Cake Bible)
Serves 8-10

Cake:
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 large, very ripe bananas (approximately 1 cup, mashed)
1/2 cup buttermilk
2 large eggs
Grated zest of one lemon
2 teaspoons vanilla paste or extract
2 cups sifted cake flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, softened

Frosting:
8 ounces (1 block) cream cheese, softened
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup powdered sugar, sifted
1/4 teaspoon Maldon or other coarse sea salt, crushed fine between your fingers
1/2 cup dulce de leche, plus 2 additional tablespoons for drizzling

Leave all ingredients on the counter for at least 30 minutes to come to room temperature before starting.

Preheat oven to 350 F.  Line an 8 x 8 inch square pan with nonstick foil or parchment paper.

Process the sugar in a food processor until it achieves a superfine consistency, but don’t process so long that it turns to powdered sugar.  Remove from the processor bowl and set aside.

Combine the bananas and buttermilk in the processor and process until smooth.  Add the eggs, zest and vanilla paste, and pulse a couple of times to blend.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the sugar and remaining dry ingredients and mix on low briefly to blend and aerate.  Add the butter and half the banana mixture, stirring on low until the dry ingredients are just moistened, then increase to medium speed and beat for 90 additional seconds.  Scrape down the sides and add the remaining banana mixture in two batches, beating for 20 more seconds after each addition.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top.  Bake for 40-50 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Cool the cake in the pan for 10 minutes, then carefully lift out of the pan by the overhanging foil or parchment, and transfer to a rack to cool completely.

While the cake is cooling, prepare the frosting by beating the cream cheese and butter on medium-high speed until fluffy. Scrape down the bowl and beat in the powdered sugar and salt, then scrape down again and beat in the 1/2 cup of dulce de leche.  Cover and chill until the cake is ready to be frosted.

Spread the top and sides of the cooled cake thickly with the frosting. Slightly warm the additional dulce de leche in the microwave until pourable but not hot (around 10-15 seconds), and drizzle over the frosted cake to form a decorative pattern.

Don’t refrigerate it unless you really have to, since the cold will cause it to loose a little of its ethereal lightness.

Notes:

Rose called for baking this in a 9-inch round or springform cake pan, but the only pans I still have available are the reusable but ultimately disposable Glad ones I bought as extras for the holiday baking, in 8×8 and 9×12 sizes.  This required a longer bake time, and obviously resulted in a smaller but higher and more domed cake.  I assume you’re not operating under my circumstantial handicap, so bake this in a 9-inch pan for 30-40 minutes if you can.

The original recipe used sour cream, which I replaced with buttermilk left over from the fresh blackberry pancakes that were my incentive for getting up at 8 on a Sunday to do more packing.  I think the thinner texture of the buttermilk added even more lightness to the cake, but if you don’t have any, use the equivalent amount of sour cream or plain (but not nonfat, please) yogurt.

I don’t want the fact that not everyone has a kilo can of dulce de leche to use up to stop you from making this cake.  Top it with whatever you like, from the sour cream ganache that Rose suggested to a simple dollop of whipped cream, but for the love of all that is delicious, make this cake. You will never lament an overripe banana again.

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Sidewalk Table and Jacarandas Not Included

Your dentist is going to hate me.

This week’s Sunday sweets blogging was partly pantry-clearing and partly nostalgia-tripping.

For our anniversary last year, His Lordship and I took a greatly-postponed honeymoon trip to Argentina. The idea was to show him where I came from, visit my pasta-producing grandmother, and consume unseemly quantities of amazing — and amazingly cheap — local food products, particularly artisanal ice cream in my case and grass-fed beef in His Lordship’s case.

Regular breaks for beverages and a nibble at cafes during our outings were a daily feature of our life during the trip, because it’s a daily feature of life in Buenos Aires for everyone. There are at least two on every block, and in the busier areas it’s probably closer to half a dozen, all serving a million variations on coffee and a comprehensive assortment of light meals, pastries and snacks.

They’re open from morning, when you can start your day off right with cafe con leche and the standard tres medialunas, until the ungodly hours of the night, when you can stumble in for empanadas or sandwiches at the end of or as a break from your club-hopping rounds. No one will bat an eyelash at any time in between if you order one cup of coffee and then sit for two additional hours reading your paper or engaging in heated philosophical debate with your friends. Indeed, it’s quite likely the waiter will never return to see if you need something more anyway, since it’s expected that you’re there to sloth away a good chunk of time.

In short, Buenos Aires’s cafe culture makes Seattle’s vaunted caffeine scene look like a parvenu bastard second cousin. It’s fantastic, and I’ve been longing for that level of urbanity ever since. Which is why, when I was thinking of what to bake for Monday morning and staring at a gift-sized jar of dulce de leche left over from that trip and three blocks of cream cheese inherited from the aforementioned departing friend, I thought about brownies.

Brownies seem to have landed with a vengeance in Buenos Aires, since we ran into them in practically every cafe we visited. It was an unexpected amusement to scroll down a menu and see “brownie”, with no translation at all, sandwiched between traditional offerings like flan and pastafrola, a lattice-topped quince tart I will get around to making if I ever find fresh quinces again. In striving not to be the ugly American, I never ordered a food I could easily get back home, but we did get a few dainty brownie bits once as part of the cafes’ universal and impeccably civilized custom of offering a complimentary cookie, chocolate or other treat with your coffee (are you listening, Starbucks?). They were completely respectable brownie bits and went quite nicely with cafe dobles and leisurely conversation.

Although I never actually saw such a thing while we were there, it would be perfectly in keeping with Argentine sensibilities to add dulce de leche to brownies, since there’s pretty much nothing sweet that won’t at some point be embellished with the national condiment. My favorite heladeria already does this in reverse, adding brownie bits to dulce de leche ice cream. True to my ancestry, I’ve been known to warm a few spoonfuls from my normally jealously-guarded supply until liquid and dribble it Pollock-fashion over finished brownies with a sprinkling of toasted pecans or walnuts.

But that wasn’t going to be enough to finish off the jar this time, and I do have to use up all that cream cheese, so I decided to swirl the two together into an espresso-embellished brownie base. While rummaging through my strategic chocolate reserves (what, doesn’t everyone have one?), I discovered that we also still had Argentine semisweet chocolate left, the kind used to make the drink whimsically known as a submarino by dunking a whole segment into steamed milk and stirring once it’s started to melt. For the sake of authenticity, I decided to throw that in too.

I’m now almost out of espresso powder, have whittled down my strategic chocolate reserve, and that jar of dulce de leche is done. I might up the dulce de leche amount to a third of a cup next time for even more of a trademark hit, but otherwise I was quite pleased with their rococo appearance and coffee-and-caramel-kissed taste. It’s not the same as kicking back at Cafe Tortoni, but it’ll hold me for a little while.

Submarino!

By the way, thanks to my bicontinental mother, I still have an additional unopened 1-kilo can of dulce de leche, so be on notice that we’re in for many more applications in the coming weeks.

Buenos Aires Cafe Brownies
(Very loosely adapted from Cook’s Illustrated’s The Best Recipe)
Makes 1 13×9 panful, approximately 18 brownies

Chocolate base:
3 5/8 ounces (2/3 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate (70% cocoa solids or higher), chopped
8 tablespoons (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, in quarters
7 ounces (1 cup) granulated sugar
1 teaspoon espresso powder
2 teaspoons Kahlua
3 large eggs

Dulce de leche cheesecake base:
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
1/4 cup dulce de leche
1/2 teaspoon vanilla paste
1 egg yolk

Set oven rack to lower-middle position and preheat oven to 325 F. Line a 13 x 9 baking pan with two perpendicular sheets of nonstick aluminum foil or parchment paper, leaving overhang as handles for removing the cooled brownies later.

Whisk the flour, baking powder and salt together in a medium bowl.

In a large glass measuring cup, combine the chocolate and butter and microwave at 50% until chocolate has completely melted, stirring frequently. Stir in the sugar, espresso powder and Kahlua, and allow to cool slightly. Whisk in the eggs, one at a time, until completely smooth. Add the dry ingredients, stirring until just combined.

In a small bowl, whisk together the cream cheese and dulce de leche until uniform. Stir in yolk and vanilla.

Spread half the chocolate mixture in the bottom of the pan. Drop half of the cheesecake base on top in evenly-distributed large spoonfuls. Repeat with remaining half of mixtures. Using a chopstick or wooden spoon handle, gently swirl the batters together to create a marbled effect. Over-mixing will blur and muddy the swirls.

Bake for 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into center emerges with a few moist crumbs attached. Cool completely on a wire rack and cut into squares just before serving.

Notes:

The basic recipe for the brownies was baked in an 8×8 pan. Since I knew these would be significantly sweeter and richer, I decided to stretch the batter into a bigger pan, and got thinner, chewier brownies closer to what His Lordship looks for. If you want thicker and fudgier, bake this in the smaller pan for around 40-50 minutes, although you’ll still probably have to cut them into smaller-than-average squares.

Pictured is my favorite brand of dulce de leche, determined during the aforementioned trip via purchase and side-by-side tasting of half the dulce de leche aisle at the nearby supermarket. La Salamandra is one of the most readily available in the U.S., albeit at highly inflated prices.

My brother remains faithful to San Ignacio, the brand we grew up with courtesy of our then-jetsetting grandmother. San Ignacio was the close runner-up in my taste test, edged out by the slightly more prominent fresh-milk top note of La Salamandra.

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The Return of Sunday Baking: German Chocolate Cupcakes

I won’t even bother with the usual feeble attempt at excusing the lags in blogging. Let’s just look at the pretty picture and forget all about it, OK? Right, moving on…

This lovely little morsel evolved out of my interest in this recipe, which I ran across mid-week and knew I wanted to try over the weekend. I love dulce de leche and I love coconut, so the idea of combining them was irresistible. I stocked up on coconut milk and happily boiled away until I had two and a half cups of caramel, which was…

…to be honest, not everything I had hoped for. I had wanted a clean coconut and caramel flavor, but the brown sugar flavor was a bit overwhelming and it imparted a less than stunning greyish cast to the finished gel. It was still tasty, though, and I still love the idea, so I might try it again soon with white sugar instead.

In the meantime, I had two and a half cups of this interesting goo. In trying to find uses for it, it occurred to me that the taste and texture were very much like the filling for German chocolate cake, only more coconutty. A few quick mental hops later, I had pulled together the following recipe by adapting one of my favorite old-fashioned chocolate fudge cake recipes, from Scharffen Berger’s house cookbook, The Essence of Chocolate. I carried the coconut theme even further by substituting coconut milk for the heavy cream in the frosting, which worked seamlessly. Since coconut milk is shelf-stable and always in my cupboard, unlike cream, which I have to make special trips for, I will probably do this all the time in the future.

As I discovered when I brought them to work this morning, German chocolate cake has a massive fan base. There are a fair amount of steps involved here, but these were such a huge hit that I will definitely pull out the recipe for special occasions. If you’re so inclined, you can turn this back into a full-sized cake by following the baking instructions for the original recipe.

German Chocolate Cupcakes

Makes 36

For the coconut caramel:
2 14-ounce cans unsweetened coconut milk
1 1/2 cups light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

For the coconut ganache:
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
1 cup unsweetened coconut milk
5 ounces unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the cupcakes:
2 cups granulated sugar
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup natural cocoa powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup canola oil
1 cup milk
2 teaspoons espresso powder
1 cup boiling water

For the coconut-pecan topping:
1 cup coconut caramel
1 1/2 cups pecans
1 1/2 cups unsweetened shredded coconut

To make the caramel:

Whisk ingredients together in large heavy pot over medium heat until sugar has dissolved and mixture comes to a boil. Lower heat and simmer vigorously, stirring occasionally, until mixture has thickened to a caramel texture and reduced to approximately 2 1/2 cups, about 30-40 minutes.

Transfer to glass jars and cool completely. Cover and refrigerate once cool.

To make the ganache:

In a heavy saucepan, combine the sugar and coconut milk and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally. Reduce the heat and simmer for 6 minutes.

Remove from heat, add the chocolate and butter and stir until melted. Pour into a bowl and stir in the vanilla. Cool until thickened to a spreadable consistency.

To make the cupcakes:

Preheat oven to 350 F. Line 3 cupcake tins with paper liners.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the sugar, flour, cocoa, salt, baking powder, and baking soda on low speed.

In a liquid measuring cup, mix together eggs, oil and milk. Add liquid ingredients to mixer and beat on medium speed for 2 minutes.

Dissolve espresso powder in boiling water. Reduce mixer to low speed and add water mixture, blending just until a very liquid batter forms.

Ladle batter into lined cupcake tins, filling each cup just over half full. Bake for 20 minutes, or until tester inserted into a cupcake comes out clean. Remove from oven and allow to cool completely in tins.

To finish the cupcakes:

While the cupcakes are cooling, spread the pecans and the coconut on separate quarter-sheet pans and toast in the oven for 10-15 minutes, until pecans are fragrant and coconut is pale gold. Stir midway through toasting to prevent the coconut from burning. Set aside to cool while frosting the cupcakes.

Frost each cupcake with a generous amount of ganache, then set aside briefly to set up while finishing the topping.

Chop pecans medium-coarsely and mix together with coconut and approximately one cup of the caramel, or just enough to bind the pecans and shredded coconut together. Top each cupcake with a large scoop of the sticky mixture, and serve.

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The Return of Sunday Sweets Blogging: Pumpkin Spice Cake with Dulce de Leche Frosting

While my blogging schedule has suffered a massive lapse, I didn’t give up my habit of baking on Sunday evening and bringing the results into work on Monday morning.

Appropriately for the season, last Sunday’s baking effort was a pumpkin sheet cake, iced with a quick caramel buttercream made with a cup of dulce de leche. Although it’s readily available in specialty stores these days (unlike my childhood when it required a visit by relatives from the southern hemisphere), in the event that you can’t locate dulce de leche or its Mexican equivalent, cajeta, you could easily forego frosting the cake and simply dust it with powdered sugar instead.

With or without the frosting, the cake is moist, spicy and a snap to put together.

Pumpkin Spice Cake
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice
1 1/2 chai spice powder (see Notes)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 3/4 cups packed light brown sugar
4 large eggs
1/2 cup sunflower seed or nut oil
1/2 cup grapeseed or canola oil
1 15 oz can solid-pack pumpkin

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Grease and line with parchment paper or nonstick foil a 13- by 9- by 2-inch baking pan.

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, spices, baking soda, and salt.

In a large bowl, whisk together brown sugar and eggs in a large bowl until sugar is fully incorporated, with no lumps. Whisk in the oil and pumpkin purée and combine thoroughly. Add flour mixture and whisk just until smooth.
Pour batter into baking pan and bake in middle of oven until springy to the touch and a tester inserted in center comes out clean, 30 to 40 minutes.

Cool on a rack for 10 minutes, then run a knife around edge and invert onto rack. Peel off paper and cool cake completely.

Spread top of cake with dulce de leche frosting (see below) and chill thoroughly to set before serving.

Dulce de Leche Frosting
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature but still firm
1 cup dulce de leche
1 cup powdered sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla paste or extract
Generous pinch of salt
1-2 tbsp half and half

Whip butter in standing mixer for 30 seconds to lighten, then add dulce de leche and sugar and beat until light and fluffy, approximately 1-2 minutes. Beat in vanilla and salt, then add sufficient half and half to thin to a spreadable consistency.

Notes:

The chai spice powder idea comes from the inventive Chockylit at Cupcake Bakeshop and has been great fun to use ever since I discovered it. If you don’t want to bother, the equivalent amount of pumpkin pie spice, apple pie spice, or extra cinnamon, ginger, allspice and cloves in proportion to your taste is easily substituted.

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