Boozy Margarita Lime Cake

Margaritas are my favorite cocktail. There is no "when push comes to shove" or hesitancy in that statement. I declare it with the utmost certainty—I love margaritas. Truthfully, when celebrations come around, margaritas usually find a place in the mix, whether it be on the Fourth of July, ringing in the New Year, or reveling in turning twenty-five. Pair it with a side of chips and salsa and I'm yours. Though margaritas may come in every shade and flavor to match, the classic will always have a place in my heart.

The tart and sourness of fresh lime juice never grows tired.

When it comes to boozy cakes, I don't like them to shy away from the alcohol. It's not that I am much of a drinker (which I am not), but if a cake is going to advertise itself as such, I'd like it to live up to my expectations. When I worked in a bakery, I had visions of opening my own "boozy bakery," providing cupcake cocktails in martini glasses. I dreamed of cupcakes infused with Kahula or red wine, and chocolate cupcakes with rum.

While the dreams of my cake shop never grew to fruition, my boozy cake bakery idea stuck with me, settling somewhere inside my sugar-addled brain.

When I thought of making my own margarita cake, I consulted quite a few recipes on the subject. Some included a couple tablespoons of tequila in the batter, some brushed the top with it, but I felt that both of these options did not give enough to fulfill my lofty expectations. Whenever this happens, I set out to do something completely different. There is not only alcohol baked into this particular cake, but it is soaked into the finished product. While lime may be the primary flavor, the tequila isn't too far behind, providing a subtle taste and tingling taste buds.

Cocktail cakes should never fail to please.

This Boozy Margarita Lime Cake is a celebration of lime and tequila. Fresh lime juice and zest find their way into the batter (along with the alcohol to make a margarita complete). When finished baking, the cake is soaked in tequila and orange liquor to give it a little extra zing. Topped with a lime coconut whipped cream and slices of citrus, the cake goes from ordinary to extraordinary. This cake makes for the perfect end to a Mexican meal or fabulous dinner party.

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Lime Curd Tart with Coconut Whipped Cream

Some people have a green thumb. To put it quite frankly, I am not one of them. While many gardeners can sow, weed, and prune a plant into flourishing perfection, I struggle to complete some of the more basic tasks, such as burying the seeds at the correct depth or finding the motivation to weed (perhaps a bit of laziness is also to blame). Even so, my plants have a tendency to wither despite regular watering. They gather the nasty little bugs whenever I want to keep a flower indoors, and my vegetable plants grow the smallest of produce at the end of the season.

I am become Death, the destroyer of plants.

Each spring the feeling of rebirth floats through the air, infecting me with a strong desire to kneel in the dirt and plant a garden. The eagerness to hold a handful of seeds makes me briefly forget my black thumb and the poor path my plants will soon travel down. When I lived at home with my parents, I would convince my mother to fill her garden with half a dozen varieties of vegetables. I convinced her that I would do the tending. I convinced her I would help them grow. Rarely, I am ashamed to admit, did I follow through on my deceitful promises. The plants would endure a hot sun, vagrant weeds, and abit of neglect. At the end of the season, we'd collect our micro-vegetables, telling ourselves that we would plant flowers next year instead.

As the temperature finally rose this weekend, I felt the familiar urge to dig around in the dirt and grow new life. The trees have not yet budded with leaves, but for the first time this year it felt like spring has arrived. Even though I know my planting ventures are destined to end poorly (just ask my basil plant from last summer), I cannot shake the optimism that this year might be different—that this year I could grow something beautiful.

Even if I will not be able to grow a flourishing plant, I can bake something beautiful. And really, that might be the most delicious in the end.

This Lime Curd Tart with Coconut Whipped Cream is an ode to spring, with bright green colors and bold new flavors. A lightly sweetened whole wheat tart crust is filled with a tart lime curd and swirled with spoonfuls of coconut whipped cream. Serve with a sprinkling of lime zest and another dollop of whipped cream to celebrate the arrival of sunshine and warmer weather.

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Almond Joy Candy Bars

Coconut never used to be a familiar word in my vocabulary nor did the fruit itself often find its way into my stomach. As landlocked as one could be, coconuts were as foreign of an idea as palm trees and tropical seas—the subject of many a daydream, but not of an everyday reality. I remember looking over the brown coconut shells in the supermarket, hard beneath my hands, and I was curious how long the coconuts had been sitting on the shelf (I had never witnessed a person purchase one before). A sign overhead asserted that the coconut could be opened best with an ice pick, pointed proof showing how far this little coconut was from home.

As I placed the coconut back on the shelf, I wondered if people in tropical climates carried around ice picks for this specific purpose. The thought struck me as silly, but I could not think of a tool better suited than the one for winter weather.

Eventually, my curiosity got the best of me and I bought a supermarket coconut of my own. I was skeptical of the coconut, as perhaps I should have been, but willing to keep an open mind. In the hot summer sun, I brought it back to my dorm room where my friends and I stared at it, wondering if we would be able to find an ice pick during this time of year. As we passed it between each other, pondering the usage of butcher knives and sharp rocks, my friend accidentally dropped it on the tile floor. Neatly splitting in two, the coconut water began to puddle around it.

A coconut, it seemed, hardly needed any motivation to open at all.

We stared at the coconut shell on the floor for a moment or two, in disbelief that the coconut was so fragile. My friend, who had lived in Hawaii the year before, took this as a bad omen. We scooped the supermarket coconut off the tile, trying to salvage as much as possible. The smell was musky and unpleasant. The taste, even worse. A bad coconut, my friend declared, as she cleanly tossed it in a nearby trash can.

Though my introduction to fresh coconut was less than ideal, it was the start of a coconut affair that would only grow and flourish. While fresh coconut may be out of the picture, dried coconut has become a pantry staple.

Homemade Almond Joy Candy Bars are much healthier and taste just as wonderful as the store-bought version. The coconut center is made with unsweetened shredded coconut, honey, and coconut oil to bind it together. With an almond on top and a chocolate coating, the candy bar is complete. While I placed almonds both inside and on top of the chocolate coating, I would suggest placing the almonds inside the chocolate coating. The almonds placed on top of the chocolate coating have a tendency to fall off during preparation. A no-bake treat, these candy bars can be ready in thirty minutes time.

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