The Poisoner's Cake: Serial Killer Supper Series, Part Two ~ the Blonde Borgia

While it is true that serial killers are statistically more likely to be men, women are perfectly capable of racking up an impressive body count, though the killing methods of the two sexes tend to differ. Typically male serial murderers gravitate towards performing violent and bloody atrocities against the (usually female) body; women, in contrast, have historically turned to the comparatively gentle, more hands-off method of poisoning.

Victorian England, in fact,  saw the rise of the woman poisoner as a cultural archetype. After all, poisons such as arsenic were easy to come by and forensic science was not yet adept at detecting such causes of death. To be fair, married women had little or no rights then, and poison often presented the only means out of an abusive marriage. I admit I have a something of a soft spot for women who poisoned out of self-preservation.

Mini Skyr and Birch Liqueur Cakes with Coffee Buttercream Frosting

As you can see, I continue to obsess over all things Icelandic after our recent vacation. First it was Icelandic lamb, and now it's skyr, the Icelandic yogurt that is technically a cheese. (Truth be told, I have been eating the stuff for breakfast since long before our trip. It's a bit like Greek yogurt, but creamier.)

Here I've substituted vanilla skyr for yogurt in a Trixified version of yogurt cake. I also included a splash of Birkir, an Icelandic birch liqueur with a distinctive, almost resin-like taste. It imparted a very subtle "What's that?" kind of quality to my mini cakes - if you can't get your hands on any, substitute a pine liqueur. I used Madagascar vanilla bean in both the cake batter and the frosting, and threw in some coffee extract to give the frosting a little oomph.

A Tale of Two Tortes: Brown Sugar Fig & Lemon Plum

plum torte

a slice of plum torte

fig torte

If you were to look over some of my recent posts - gooseberry tartlets, sour cherry compote, lavender drop scones - you might begin to doubt the truth of my past claims that I'm not generally the biggest fan of dessert.  While it remains true that I don't eat much of it, I have been on something of a sweets-making bender lately. I suppose it's because baking is so therapeutic - it forces you to slow down and only think about what you're doing, not about the million-and-one other tasks clamoring to be finished (or begun).