I love going through my baking books and looking at all the recipes that I'd like to try. I work a lot and have a pretty busy life right now so I'm not baking at home very much, but I can still fantasy bake. Recently, I have been salivating over the recipe for Anadama bread in Peter Reinhart's "The Bread Bakers Apprentice". Next time I actually get time to do some baking, I'm going to make this.

Anadama is a New England tradition. Most people agree that it's name comes from some poor farmer or fisherman who was cursing his wife, Anna. Either his wife left him or only fed him corn gruel and molasses; either way, he mixed the corn gruel and molasses with yeast and flour to make bread while muttering "Anna, damn her" the whole time. According to legend, the name of the bread comes from a gentler version of the curse on Anna.

Have any of you tried Anadama bread? I'm a sucker for anything with molasses in it, but I'd love to hear any of your stories. For those of you who would like to try it, you can find a recipe here.

I know we've all done it. You're right in the middle of making something and you realize that you don't have a necessary ingredient. Well if that ingredient is brown sugar, you may be in luck.

If you happen to have granulated sugar and molasses, you can make brown sugar. I've never actually measured the amounts before, as I generally just add molasses until I like the results. But I think it'd be 1-2 tablespoons of molasses to a cup of sugar, if you feel you need measurements.

This can be a big help in a pinch. If you don't have any of these staples, well, I guess this wouldn't be much use to you. But you never know when a tip might come in handy.

Since the two main elements of Halloween are candy and pumpkins, what could be a better way to start the day off that with a batch of sweet, fall-flavored pumpkin muffins? The only thing that could top these Pumpkin Spice Muffins with Molasses Glaze from What We're Eating would be a batch that was emerging from your oven - as opposed to your computer screen - right now. Fortunately for anyone who wants to get into the seasonal spirit by doing a little baking, Amada included her recipe along with the oh-so-tempting photograph.

The muffins have typical pumpkin muffin/bread ingredients - flour, pumpkin, molasses - with one exception: fresh ginger juice. Instead of simply mincing the ginger or adding candied/crystallised ginger. It seems that the advantage of using the juice is that you get all the flavor from the ginger and it is more evenly distributed throughout the muffin, with no risk of biting down into an unminced bit and disturbing the balance of the pastry. Although, if you're a ginger fan, as I am, it probably wouldn't hurt to toss in a handful of crystallised ginger for good measure.

Piloncillo is an unrefined sugar that is commonly used in Mexican cooking. The sugar has been around for at least 500 years, and was being made before the Spanish came to Mexico around 1500. It is made when sugar canes are crushed, the juice is collected and boiled then poured into molds, where it hardens into blocks. The fact that it comes in block form is one of the reasons why white and brown sugars are more commonly used, even in Mexican cooking, than piloncillo once was. To use it, it must be grated or chiseled off the main block - a process which is well worth the resulting flavor boost in food to some, but too time consuming for others to bother.

Unlike white sugar, which is flat and one-dimensional in its sweet flavor, piloncillo is smoky, caramely and earthy. It has far more flavor than brown sugar, which is generally just white sugar with a small amount of molasses added back to it. It can be uses in moles and other sauces, as well as to simple sweeten coffee or top off buttery toast. In most applications, it must be melted down to be incorporated into recipes. You can find piloncillo in many Mexican or Latin American grocery stores or order it online.

As was discussed on Slashfood recently, stevia is a great alternative to the White Demon, refined table sugar. One method of refining sugarcane involves a step where the liquid is filtered through a cattle bone charcoal mixture, with a little albumen thrown in. Not remotely vegan. While stevia is a good, strong, sweetener for that shade grown soy latte, you might also try: Brown Rice Syrup, less sweet than honey and bakes well. Sucanat, organic sugar cane juice with the essence of the sugarcane sans water. Sucanat is good in hot liquids, but lumps up oatmeal and is not ideal for baking. Maple Sugar/Maple Syrup, organic, pure, expensive, but worth it. Pure maple syrup is graded A-C, A being lightest, C the most robust and similar to restaurant grade corn syrup knockoffs. Nothing wrong with C, it's just meant to be the dominant flavor of the food.

Then, there's always Blackstrap molasses. Anyone who's trained with triathletes, especially in the '90s, knows that Blackstrap is believed to (lots of potassium, B vits.) help flush lactic acid from muscles and speed overall recovery from heavy exertion. Whatever your sweet needs, don't turn to the White Demon-- it's no good. Period. Check all this out, and more here.

Maybe the Boston Molasses Disaster is imprinted on the collective memories of folks in Boston, but it was news to me. Apparently, on January 15, 1919, a 50 foot tall tank of molasses (the common sweetener of the time) burst, sending 2.5 million gallons of the sweet goo hurtling through the city at a reported speed of 35 miles per hour, killing 21 people and injuring 150 others. The initial wave of molasses was between eight and 15 feet high, according to a Wikipedia entry. A Straight Dope article goes into more detail, and both pieces cite a book on the subject: Dark Tide: The Great Boston Molasses Flood of 1919 by Stephen Puleo. Causes of the disaster range from shoddy tank construction to theories about anarchists. The flood apparently derailed an elevated train and remnants of the mess were still being cleaned months later.

[Photo: Wikipedia]