She Bakes the Cake

Is it Christmas already?

2011-12-25T22:33:00.000Z

Given it appears as though a toy shop has exploded in our living room, I think it is a safe assumption that Santa has visited and it is indeed Christmas. Merry Christmas to whom ever stumbles across this post. It has been a bit barren in the posting department. Reasons one, two and three are in the shot above.

For those following along at home, the baby boys were induced at 3.00pm on the 17th of June, which is coincidentally my Mum's birthday, and arrived at 10.20pm and 10.36pm that same day. Let's just say that a twin delivery is a production with quite a few cast members, certainly a lot more than showed up for Isaac's delivery. I can absolutely guarantee that it will be a one time only show, because as cute as they are, they are hard work! So it has been a bit foggy around here the past six months. I have baked, but my mental capacity and time scarcity have not stretched to anything really ground breakingly new. So in absence of cake photos, here are some baby photos instead.

Hard to believe that six months ago they were that little - 6 pound 5 ounces and 7 pound 2 ounces (so not so little), and they are now sitting up and stealing each others toys.

Six months - (huge exhale of breath) surely my medal is in the post? The little assistant is slowly coming around to the possibility that they could be something other than extremely noisy things that take up time with his Dad. When anyone asks me how it is, I just respond with "relentless" - all elements of it (especially the laundry)! We are so blessed and we count our lucky stars on a daily basis that we were so fortunate to have three healthy and happy sons.

The little assistant was not so impressed by his new bike. The new train set on the other hand, is a winner.

Anyway, I am sure that one day soon, I will be baking for real again. I have a stack of baking books ready to go.

Macarons - Pierre Herme
Tea with Bea - Bea's of Bloomsbury

Baked in America (where I get my US flour)
Mary Berry's Baking Bible - stalwart of UK baking

Now, if someone can let me know where on Amazon I can buy some time, then I will get right on it.

Wishing you and yours a happy, healthy and long 2012 (I am sure it is not just me that feels as though the year evaporates?).

The Devil is in the Chocolate

2011-03-15T18:44:00.000Z

Ahem. Let's not remark about how it is nearly Christmas again. Let's remark about the fact that I actually baked. And then blogged about it.

The cake that finally made it past the deeply guarded barriers of procrastination was Devil's Food Cake with Midnight Ganache. And you know what. After *months* of procrastination about being too tired, too busy, too "overseas", too whatever, this whole baking thing didn't take too long at all. Good to remember really. If I had spent more time *doing* rather than making up excuses, I am sure that my cake quota for the past three months would have advanced past the solitary digit.

I baked this whilst the little assistant and his Dad were at swimming lessons (for the little assistant, not for Dad). I even have Chris fooled as to how *time consuming* and *difficult* this cake baking is. When they returned from swimming, Chris asked where I had found the time to bake cakes! They had been gone maybe two hours... Clearly I am a good excuse maker.

And this cake is pretty easy to make. The ganache takes longer. The devils food cake comes together pretty easily and can be prepared in stages. Ten minutes to prepare the wet ingredients, dry ingredients, dissolve cocoa, chocolate and boiling water and pull the butter out to come to room temperature. Then in a about an hour or so, just mix it in the right order and divide it equally between two pans and before you know it you have a couple of cakes. Mine where baked in about 27 minutes, not the 30 -40 minutes that Rose recommends. I definitely recommend an early check on these cakes.

The hardest thing about making this cake was coaxing the light brown muscovado sugar that it didn't needed to be in thousands of individual bits, rather than in one big solid lump. Coaxing with the wooden lemon juicer didn't go far enough, so I had to introduce it to the food processor for a good few minutes. Quite obviously cake baking has been infrequent around here. Previously, sugar never sat long enough to work out how to move from grains to granite. The actual mix was fluffy and amazing.

The ganache was a bit of faff. I declined the option to use food processor to grind my chocolate. Weird, given I had it out to grind the faffing sugar. I must have been channeling a bit of Raymond defiance! Knowing how hot caramel gets, I figured out that it would be plenty hot enough to melt the broken bits of chocolate. Also a bit weird, was that I seem to have maintained the confidence that comes from baking week in week out. You know, the kind of confidence that results in skim reading the recipe, getting it wrong, then with a shrug of the shoulders, doing a slight adjustment and thinking it will be right! I used 85% chocolate in the ganache (it was midnight ganache after all!!) Anway, on my second skim, I realised that Rose had instructed 60% so I switched out some of the 85% for some lower % and called it roughly right. So what if I was a few hours post midnight in the ganache stakes?

The caramel was a great success. Whilst I was in Australia recently I had to consult Rose (via You Tube) on correct caramel preparation. (How great is it to have Rose on call, whenever you need her... kind of like having your Mum at the end of the counter, except that my Mum doesn't know how to make great caramel!). I gifted our hosts with the two Ottolenghi cookbooks and whipped up the Macadamia and Caramel cheesecake. Except my Caramel (made on brown sugar!) was a crystallised disaster. So I learned from Rose that you need plain old white granulated to make proper caramel. You know what - she is right (like I should be surprised). So the caramel of the ganache was simple - so long as you know the difference between deep amber and burnt. Which I do. Through bitter experience (literally!). Not that I burned it this time. But I have. In the past.

After caramelising the sugar and tipping in the cream and butter, you add it to the chocolate (it doesn't need to be finely processed, chunked into rough squares is good enough if you put some elbow effort in). I tasted it at this point and was very tempted to stop. I could easily taste the caramel coming through the chocolate. Divine. But this was Midnight Ganache, not Caramel Ganache. So onwards with adding in a shedload of cocoa mixed with boiling water. Again, I didn't cool this as instructed because really, what was the point? Cooled cocoa mixed with hot caramel/chocolate didn’t really make sense to me – just lengthened the process. So I just mixed and then let it cool for a few hours. Not the five as instructed. More like about three.

I didn’t ice it as artfully as Rose. I just smoothed it on and called it done. I also didn’t bother with the macerated cherries – they too fell victim to the skim read.

The verdict on this cake? Hmm. I can’t say that I am sold. The cake itself, whilst tender, is quite crumbly. There is no way you can sneak a piece of this cake. A friend dropped over to collect Chris for an early morning motorbike ride on Sunday and helped himself to a slice of cake. I knew this even before I lifted the lid on the cake plate because there were chocolate crumbs all over the floor. Granted, he is a bachelor and cake plates and forks are not his thing – especially at sparrows on a Sunday morning. Still, it is worth noting that this is not the moist heavy chocolate cake that makes you regret even a sliver. It is light. It is tender. It is a tad crumbly, or more politely worded – delicate. That midnight ganache does ratchet down the delicate nature of the cake – I think I would have preferred it less cocoa-ey, more like it was with just the caramel and chocolate. Chris described it as chocolate cement. But that hasn’t stopped him having five slices in 48 hours.

I quite like the delicateness of the chocolate cake, but would pair it with a lighter whipped caramel ganache or something. Assuming my levels of procrastination permitted, of course.

My other baking endeavor is well underway. I can’t procrastinate my way out of that one. Fortunately I don’t have to read any recipes or talk myself into the baking, otherwise who knows how long it would actually take me to come up with the goods. All going to plan, two more little boys will be here by mid June. I am fervently wishing for a longer torso, but other than that, it is thankfully, boringly normal and uneventful, if a little on the large size.

In other news, we are moving in the next two weeks from our two bedroom gardenless flat to three bedroom small back yarded house, which, although nice, doesn’t have quite the same high quality German appliances. Sob. I will do my best not to add that to my list of baking avoidance excuses.

It Twas the night before Christmas

2010-12-29T21:51:00.000Z

And whilst the genoise bake and the chiboust cream chills, two hands find themselves without a little assistant or husband or Christmas related faff to distract them.

It is a very long time since I was around these parts. Almost ~~two~~ three months. I am surprised I haven't had a little note from Marie kicking me out of the HCB'ers. I do have a couple of excuses.

These are currently referred to as Twin A and Twin B. And far out, have they been taking a lot of my excess everything. I have just passed ~~thirteen~~ fourteen weeks, and whilst I thankfully haven't been sick, I have felt a tad tired. Hence the break in blogging. And baking for that matter. That strictly isn't correct, I have been baking and that stretched to a few photos on occasion, but it has all been a bit lack lustre. Too busy being tired and excited and nervously anxious and saying "Oh my, twins!" repeatedly. I will keep the mention of pregnancy etc to a minimum - this is a baking blog, not a pregnancy blog.

Ha! It literally Twas the night before Christmas, however, now it is quite a few nights post Christmas. First day back at work and I feel like I have somehow missed Christmas altogether.

Anyway, a brief round up of the cakes issuing forth from the oven...

Chocolate Genoise with Peanut Butter Ganache - the genoise was a blinding success even with the eleventy hundred flour bombs littering the base and insides of the cake. I was kind of hoping that the heat from the oven would dissolve those flour balls, but once I tested the cake with a toothpick and it came out tipped in flour, I knew that no weird chemical reaction had occurred to dissolve that flour.

I then spent about 15 minutes excavating flour balls from the bottom (top) of the cake. Even after 15 minutes I didn't manage to get all of them! The pile was substantial...

I wasn't overly enamored with the raspberry syrup - the cake didn't need it at all. I also wasn't that keen on the peanut butter ganache, however I think that might be because my tastebuds are a bit weird. Everyone who tried it raved about the ganache; the syrup; the cake - clearly it is just my tastebuds. It was a breeze to make and it came together perfectly. This will definitely be on my bake again list - spectacular and pretty easy.

Next out was the Chocolate Velvet Fudge Cake. Meh. However, it was easy "meh". I didn't really like this cake at all. I found it a bit dry and pretty lacking given that it followed on directly after the spectacular genoise. I won't be making this one again anytime soon, I would prefer to spend an extra five minutes on beating lukewarm eggs to triple their volume and turn out the genoise. To my mind, this is the cake that needed the syrup and some ganache. I do love that tin though!

For my free choice week I baked the Swedish Pear Almond Cake - the week after it was actually scheduled. I was a bit nervous about this - the almond comes from almond paste, of which I am not a fan. That almond essence taste gives me the heebies - pregnant or no. Especially since the only almond paste I could find was the rolling almond paste that is traditionally layered under hard fondant on those heavy old style Christmas cakes. I bravely soldiered on. I do like to stick to Rose's recipes the first time round, and then tweak afterwards. I figure that Rose and Woody have baked a few more cakes than I and may just know their way around a recipe... plus I am not allergic to anything.

The almond paste is blended with egg, butter, sugar and then channelled into the cake, with the pear slices layered on top of the almond mix. Then through cake magic that works for almonds and pears (and also for undissolved flour balls) the top becomes the bottom which then becomes the top again.

This cake was fabulous. Great crumb, the almond taste was discernible but not heebie inducing. And the pear developed and further moistened the cake over the next few days. Definitely a bake again cake. Fantastic for a morning tea or afternoon tea. Or dinner (ahem). I did mention how tired I have been. Some days it is unreasonable to expect me to cook dinner when there is perfectly good cake sitting on the bench.

I didn't make the Candian Crown. Christmas doesn't exactly bring me out the cheesecake lover in me. I opted instead for the St Honore Trifle. I actually did the Rose trick of diving my hands through the batter to make sure that the flour balls were dissolved. This was my Christmas miracle. Two perfect genoise, with only one flour ball between (amongst?) them.

These came together perfectly. My chiboust cream was fantastic (modest aren't I - but I claim no credit - it is all Rose!). The strawberries (from Egypt!) weren't exactly England's best, but they were good enough not to need sweetening. I layered it all up, debating extensively with myself about the absence of jelly. For me, the jelly in the trifle needs to hold the fruit. I stuck to the "Rose knows best - the first time round anyways..." rule. And four days after Christmas I am stuck with a trifle that is more like a genoise cake filled with chiboust cream and strawberries. The next time I make this I will take a more traditional approach. A single genoise sponge, spread with tart raspberry jam, a layer of raspberries or strawberries suspended in a homemade berry jelly spiked with some Chambord, then a big layer of chiboust cream topped with the sweetened cream. There was too much cake in the Rose version. I think I have learned that Trifle is a very personal thing!

That wraps up my exploits for the past several months. I don't know if I can promise to be more frequent around these parts. Truthfully, the tiredness does seem to be abating, so that is promising. And I guess I will only have a relatively small window before I can't move and my life becomes incomprehensibly chaotic. So perhaps I should just get baking and blogging while I still can.

Hoping that you enjoyed your festive season (if applicable) and wishing you a New Year of opportunity, happiness and well being.

Many-Splendored Quick Bread

2010-10-19T21:48:00.000+01:00

What is it with Americans and the vowel "u" (amongst others)? I do see the point, honestly. I mean why use two letters, when one is enuf? I do worry for a few seconds ~~each week~~ every blue moon when I post, that some of you may think I can't spell. I can barely read stalkerbook anymore because some of the spelling irritates me so (or makes me laugh so hard - a dilemma that keeps me going back for more). Don't get me started on SMS "language" - it is so very far from gr8. It is s2pid.

What is it I do on this blog thing again? Apart from open myself to criticism for any spelling mistakes I may make? People in glass houses and all...

So, yes, it has been a while. I am embarrassed to realise that it is over six weeks since I last posted. I have slipped to the third bottom of Marie's HCB blogger update list. Eeek. And whilst I have been baking a fair amount, I haven't converted that baking into blogging. Apologies. I will further apologise, because this post will cover off all the baking I have done in the last six weeks.

So in order of memory retention...

This weeks' Many Splendored Quick Bread. (Can I just say that every element of that name - besides "quick" irks me). But I can't come up with a better name than Rose, so it can remain Many Splendored Quick Bread ... for now. As the English say, it does exactly what it says on the tin. Quick it is.

The most time consuming part of this recipe was finding the loaf tin - owned for years, used precisely never.

Oh, and there was one time wasting instruction which I duly ignored - mix flour, leavening and salt in one bowl, sift into another bowl and mix in the oats. Um. No. How about I sift it all into one bowl, mix it and then mix the oats in and call that one less bowl to wash up. Each time I ignore an OCD like instruction in Rose's recipe I have a giggle about how Raymond will react to it on his post.

The UK has a health marketing program "eat 5 a day" which is the recommended serves of fruit and veg in one day. Given this bread has zucchini (courgettes in the UK), carrots (strangely, they call them carrots here too), banana (ditto) and walnuts (I subbed pecans because that was what I had), by my calculations if you ate the full loaf, then you probably would meet half of your "five" a day quota. Because even though it contains all those things - it is literally three quarters of one ig carrot, half a big zucchini and one banana. Well, actually, my one banana was 8 grams shy of the target, but hey ho.

I love these oil based cakes. You are never instructed to have the oil at a set temperature and everything just kind of gets bunged together until it emulsifies. The carrot and zucchini is grated, of course, because I am yet to hear of a cake that has them either diced or sliced or left whole. Because there is a relatively small portion of zucchini and carrot, I opted for the old fashioned knuckle grater. Happily, because it didn't use the full amount of either carrot or zucchini I avoided adding unnecessary protein to my mix.

The end product was pretty and good. My father in law ate it like bread. As in with lashings of butter. The rest of us ate it virtuously. Given it was quick and easy and didn't end in grated knuckles, I would call it a success. And it is quite a virtuous cake. I could tell, because this didn't improve with age - it became drier. Don't all virtues get a bit weary with the passage of time?

Instead of the Pineapple brioche puddings, we went to Kew Gardens on one of those Autumn days where you can momentarily fool yourself that perhaps winter isn't just waiting behind the next tree. It was a tough one, but sunshine in mid October was a definite winner.

The Chocolate Tomato cake did get a run - it should be grateful, because, trust me, that will be the last time I bake that recipe. I baked this one mid week and took it to a company I have been working on a project with for the past six months. They were very pleased. But then again, I think they may have just been polite, after all, how many of their clients pay the bills *and* bring them cake?

The cake mix was so thick and the tomato soup was barely discernible. I would maybe bake the cake again, but to me, it just felt a bit gimmicky, so, yeah, maybe not.

The ganache with the mystery ingredient. How such a tiny amount of tomato soup results in such bitter ganache is definitely a mystery to me. My tastebuds are still demanding a root cause analysis with corrective action to be submitted for review. Never. Again. If you can't tell from the cake photo, that ganache was so grainy it looked terrible. Especially when I compare it to the lusciousness that was the caramel ganache. Now I know why Rose encased her cake in those cigar biscuits. First rule of cake decorating - if it is ugly - cover it!

Oh me, oh my. The Apple Caramel Charlotte. How I love thee. How my entire family loves thee (except the little assistant - he didn't at all like the texture or the hint of calvados). This was an incredibly long recipe in the book. And truth be told, it did take me two weeks to complete it. I poached the apples on a Sunday afternoon, thinking I could turn it out that night. Ahem. No you can't. Especially if it takes four goes to poach the bloody apples.

First ones turned to mush. Second ones looked weird - kind of firm on the outside but floury (how a poached apple can be floury, I have no idea), the third batch I left with my husband while I ducked out to the hairdresser, only to a return to apple sauce. The fourth batch were grand. Ironically the fourth batch were a generic bag of apples from Tesco. The first three were bought from farmers markets and various organic healthfood shops.

Anyway, assuming that you can poach apples, you could probably knock this out in a few hours. The filling is a combination of a caramel made with the apple poaching liquid combined with an italian meringue. Capital A amazing.

The cakey bit is just a genoise. See how I fooled you there with pretending that genoise are easy. Far fricking out. Genoise has become my nemesis. Even with the faffing Wondra flour I ended up with chewy nuggets. But that annoyance was nothing compared to what you see in the next photo.

Yep, that is correct. Two inches short of a cake tin. And no, I am not talking about my mental capacity. Those pits in the base sponge were the wondra lumps. I had to patch the gap with some frozen whipped cream cake I excavated from the freezer. Somehow, I ended up eating that bit of the cake, and I can tell you that nine (!!) month old frozen whipped cream cake is not nearly as delectable as even my crappy genoise.

At one point, my husband questioned whether a cake that produced as many dishes as this one, could ever be worth it. His concern was hilarious, given that he gets to eat the cake, but doesn't ever have to do the dishes!

The final call was that this cake is definitely worth using every single pot (more than once over) and every bowl (I have four pots, and six bowls) and countless other implements. Especially when your wife does the dishes (yeah, I am struggling with the logic of that one too!). This is now the requested birthday cake, along with a tiramisu and 3 dozen cupcakes to take to his office. So there will be plenty of dishes in my kitchen this weekend!

I didn't realise it was free choice week until after we had eaten the upside down apple cake. Um. So the only photo I had was from above. Happily, it was a lot more successful than the first go round, where I smoked out the house. I do learn from previous errors (sometimes)! I retract all negative comments I had a year ago about this cake. It is fantastic. Perfection.

I made the Upside Down Plum & Blueberry cake which was nice enough. Great with a cup of tea and a trashy mag. Though equally good with a glass of champagne and (not trashy) friends. I did research on both pairings. Easy to make and not completely ruined by the fact that the caramel and plums sat overnight and completely turned to mush. So feel free to prepare the night before and bake in the morning! It is a great breakfast cake - and has to count as one of your "5 a day".

The Marionberry shortcakes were in there too, except my camera was shotless, so no photos. I do recall that my genoise shortcakes were a little short. The hit of those cakes was the lightly sweetened creme fraiche. That is definitely going into the bag of tricks. Creme Fraiche is lower in fat than cream, so you can feel all fabulous and healthy (but only in comparison to the cream eaters, because creme fraiche at 31% fat is no lettuce leaf.)

I did eventually get around to the Lemon Meringue Cake. This is one of those "if it looks crap, cover it up" cakes. And wow, meringue and some oven time do wonders to bring this cake from spotted gangling teen to airbrushed supermodel.

I seem to have a lot of photos labeled "cake x - crap genoise". Sigh. Thank goodness for meringue. And these were made with the wondra flour. And my eggs were whipped until the requisite tripling or whatever was required. When we HCB'ers meet up, I need a one on many genoise intervention (as in I bake the genoise and you all tell me where I am going wrong).

I even made the lemon curd from scratch for this cake. I was a bit ho hum about the cake. A bit too much going on for me - I think the syrup pushed it over the top. Not the four inches of meringue on the top. Honestly.

So, that rounds out the multitude of posts that I have forsaken, because I have been too busy working, baking and enjoying the last remnants of summer. That amazing tractor is at the Princess Diana Memorial Playground just outside Kensington Palace. And whilst the Little Assistant is anywhere in that playground, you are all reminded that it is most definitely "HIS". When he is not there, you may play with it. Maybe. And remember that parents are in the trailer, NOT on the tractor (unless they are required to bounce any other kid who hasn't realised whose tractor it is).

I think I may be back in the mix again. My work project has now been delivered, so it is just normal crazy, instead of crazy crazy. With winter setting in, and days feeling about four hours long, I guess that our park time will be restricted, so more time for blogging. Ever the optimist.

Chocolate Layer Cake with Caramel Ganache

2010-08-30T23:13:00.000+01:00

I have finally worked out why the we HCB'ers are meant to post on a Monday. Just like all diets must start on a Monday, so too must the errant blogger re enter the fold on a Monday. That Marie is one smart baker/blogger/re-commencer of stuff.

There has been a fair amount of baking going on, just not a lot of anything else. Well, actually, loads of everything else except just no blogging. Or even commenting. Anyway, excuses are boring, unless they involve a car chase, police and a juicy piece of gossip about someone you don't actually know. Needless to say, my excuses are very boring.

I guess I should talk about this cake. It was quick. I really do like the way that Rose's recipes are laid out. The ingredients are ordered the same way as they are used in the recipe. It has been so long since I have baked anything other than a Rose recipe that I can't actually remember if all cook books are like that? I think not? Anyway, this cake mixes up super quick with the ol' two step method. I don't think I need to describe that do I? It is my first week back after such a long time...

Rose is a big one for having her chocolate cakes based on cocoa dissolved in boiling water and then cooled. But cocoa cake doesn't have quite the same ring to it as chocolate cake. And really, the cocoa method does make for a very chocolaty chocolate cake.

This baked really quickly for me - it was done in 25 minutes, compared to the 30 - 40minutes. I pulled it from the oven before the sides had shrunk in, and it looked good. A little domed, but good, none the less. And Rose's domes usually drop away anyway. Right? Technically, the dome did drop away. It dropped away into seismic cracks. The like I have never ever had happen ever before. (Unless I have repressed that memory - you know how psychiatrists say that the brain has a canny knack for protecting itself.)

That's why you should always blog your cakes - no hiding the terrible truth. I wasn't holding out great hope for the cake at this point. I was thinking dry. As dry as an Australian lake. Except without the feet. (Not my feet, by the way. Mine aren't nearly that tanned.)

Photo via aloshbennett

I contemplated making trifle. The chocolate raspberry number. But then I read that the creme anglaise would consume twelve egg yolks. And I really really really hate throwing good eggs after bad. Plus I thought that trifling it would be departing from the recipe a tad too much. The final clincher was when Raymond and Mendy posted how amazing the ganache was. A trifle with ganache and chocolate cake? Isn't that just a messed up chocolate cake? It was starting to do my head in, so I just went the cake route. Figuring that if the cake looked too bad, I could just mix in some whipped cream and call it chocolate caramel mess.

Onto the caramel then. Actually, a bit beyond caramel. More into the "meet your local fire brigade" territory. So, yes, maybe I did get a bit distracted - but it was a funny bit of Wallace and Grommit. He did have a bomb in his pants.

I did wonder if I could get away with this as being deep amber. I think it was the smoke that made me decide otherwise. In an attempt to see if it could work, I mixed in a bit of butter, to convert it into burnt caramel. I have eaten burnt caramel ice cream, which is amazing. Burnt caramel with a bit of butter mixed in, is not. It is inedible. Fit only for the bin.

So back to the pan. See how determined I can be? Peer group pressure is an amazing thing. Otherwise I would have a bowl of trifle on my bench instead of cake. I was much more diligent with the next lot of caramel and took it to the amber stage, mixed in the cream and ended up with this.

Not sure it looks much better than the burnt stuff, but I can tell you it tasted exponentially better. This was sugar and water mixed into scalded cream. Or in my case, scaled cream with a dash of creme fraiche (because I didn't have quite enough cream and dairy products are dairy products, right?). It seemed to come together okay. But I did need the Nigella whisk to get it there. I find that scaled creme fraiche turns a bit clumpy and needs to be broken up. I didn't bother with the food processor. After all caramel at 188 degrees Celsius with scalded cream on top of 85% Lindt chocolate isn't going to need a whole lot of mixing before it looks like this...

It hung out in the bowl (can I say, that if you are looking for mixing bowls these are the business - indestructible) for a few hours whilst we went to the London Wetlands to interact with the bird life.

I think these ducks were from China - an amazing migratory path, all the more so given they don't have wings.

Once we got home, I composed the cake. Far out. Half way through the massacre, I was wondering if perhaps I should invest in a Fat Daddio. Before I realised what was going on, I had about six pieces of cake instead of two. Somehow I managed to cut through the cake in a weird wave like manner. It did make for easy reassembly as there was only one way those parts could go back together. I failed to take a shot of that. But you know what? That ganache is incredible. If they made face cream like that, plastic surgeons would be out of business.

The ganache is the business. It is so glossy and easy to apply. It probably helps that London has thrown itself wholeheartedly into Autumn. 62 Fahrenheit here today (17 Celsius) - clearly they weren't outside catching the "breeze". As many of my HCB'ers have informed, this ganache doesn't hold together so well as it approaches 100 Fahrenheit (38 Celsius). That said, I don't hold together that well at 38 celsius, so I think it is expecting a bit much for chocolate, cream and caramel to do much better.

My in laws were over for dinner this evening, so this cake got sampled and reviewed. I served it with clotted cream ice cream and cream. Because, as we have already established, dairy products are interchangeable (except for skim milk and low fat yoghurt - but I don't technically classify those as dairy products). I was really surprised that the cake wasn't dry. Not sure if that was because the ganache to cake ratio was just shy of 1:1. And I was surprised that I didn't want to throw up after a slice. Not sure if that was because the cake to cream/ice cream ratio was also just shy of 1:1. Marie wrote an amazing paragraph on the taste of this ganache : "Nicely integrated aroma of vanilla and dark chocolate. Flavors develop nicely and finish with lingering tastes of caramel and creme brulee. Rich mouth feel.". Clearly she had quite a few glasses of wine with hers. I still can't taste the caramel. Nor can any of the tasting panel. All agreed that the cake was definitely not dry. All thought it was superb. Or they were all being polite. And none threw up. Or went hypoglycemic. Something about that caramel nicely balances the chocolate and makes the ganache a whole lot less dense than traditional ganache.

I will definitely make the ganache again. The cake I am not so sure about. Yes, it was fine. Seismic cracks and shoddy cake splitting not withstanding. I definitely would hold to the ratio as per Rose's recipe. The cake/ganache was perfect. More cake and I think it would have been a bit dry in the mouth.

Right, that is me back in the ring. You never, know, some Monday soon, I may actually tidy up this blog, and post some of my backlog. (I am beginning to think that blog is short for backlog). Now given that I have posted, perhaps I should also start a diet?

Not Lemon Meringue Cake

2010-08-01T21:49:00.001+01:00

This is the reason why there is no Lemon Meringue Cake sitting at the top of your page. I am all caked out. Bloody hell. Wedding cakes are hard work. Thankfully I now have this blog which will remind me of that fact next time someone is getting married and I think "I should make their wedding cake!".

I made the three layers, plus an extra kitchen cake, last weekend and stuck them in the freezer. That just left the icing(s) and fillings for Friday and then assembly at the venue on Friday. Easy.

What I didn't plan for was this man; my grandfather - Dad Maxwell, here surrounded by some of his grandchildren and all of his great grandchildren, passing away on Tuesday this week. To say it was a shock, was an understatement. He and my Mum were due to be visiting here in England in just over two weeks. He was, as the saying goes, fit as a fiddle. Except for his heart. Which apparently wasn't playing that same tune, unbeknown to us all. That photo hanging on the wall, in the top left hand corner, is of my grandfather in Paris. Three years ago, when he traveled to Europe for the World Cup.

Sadly, events conspired to prevent me from making the journey back to Invercargill for his funeral. Instead, I penned some words and my sister read them at his funeral. I am awed that over 800 people attended his funeral. Now I will have to relive my memories of an amazing man, rather than creating new ones with him.

So, it was with a heavy heart that I finished and delivered this wedding cake. I was up until 2.00am on Saturday morning finishing the icing and attaching the chocolate pencils. Although I have to say that chocolate pencils are a lot more forgiving than buttercream, or fondant or anything really.

I really should have looked at these photos as I went, because clearly, they have a bit of a lean on. I like to think that it adds to the rustic finish.

The cake went thus - 12 inch carrot cake (HCB) with dreamy creamy white chocolate icing, 9 inch Mrs Whatsits' whitechocolate with strawberry mousseline (HCB) , 6 inch german chocolate cake with choc almond ganache and the kitchen cake was the 12 inch version of the same (Deep Chocolate Passion Wedding Cake - and filling from the dreaded Holiday Pinecone). The icing encasing all three layers was the white chocolate vanilla buttercream. Then around it all, white chocolate pencils.

None of it was particularly complex, just time consuming.

The wedding cake toppers were a kangaroo (the Australian groom) and a peacock (the English bride). Strawberries and cream reflecting their attachment to Wimbledon.

I was putting the final touches on the cake as the guests ate canapes outside on the lawn. So, yes, cutting it fine. However, I wasn't the only one cutting it fine - the caterers were still preparing the hall.

This was the first time I had ever had a glimpse of an Indian wedding. Amazing. The food looked sensational, and the "Bollywood style" DJ sounded incredible as he completed the sound check. Certainly more fun than a four piece string ensemble! And so many of the guests were decked out in gorgeous saris. Simply stunning.

It was strange making a cake and not sampling it - hopefully it was well received.

I have read Raymond's post on the Lemon Meringue and I have to say, as caked out as I am, this looks so tempting. It may yet be part of my week.

Designer Chocolate Baby Grands

2010-07-26T22:08:00.000+01:00

Hello!

I am back. And very grateful that this week was easy cupcakes. I was desperate to get back into baking and blogging, but I really couldn't have faced anything more complicated than this recipe this week. Thank goodness the Lemon Meringue Cake is next week. Things have been pretty busy.

Drinking loads of G&T's whilst watching the sunset was pretty hard work. I think the little assistant bounced his way up and down that paddling pool about eleventy thousand times a day. He is an absolute fish.

And then we returned from holiday, just in time for me to get on another plane for Philly (where it tipped with rain - but happily I scored the much coveted Williams & Sonoma Sydney Opera House pan). Then back home to whip up an approximation of a tractor cake for the Little Assistant's second birthday (under all that toxic coloured icing is Rose's HCB Carrot cake). He was a bit disappointed that the wheels didn't turn and that he couldn't race it with his other tractors. I am just glad that he recognised that it was actually a tractor! I am no Faithy, that is for sure. And I am pretty sure that no one will be approaching me to take on the Fourth Plinth in Trafalgar Square.

So to this weekend. I baked the tiers of this coming weekends wedding cake. A 6 inch and 12 inch of the German Chocolate Cake (definitely well practiced for when it came time to make these cupcakes), a 9 inch of the chocolate covered strawberry cake and then a 12 inch of the carrot cake. I think the 12 inch chocolate cake will be relegated to the kitchen for slicing and dicing.

I think this will be the last wedding cake I make for a while... my husband felt like a widower and I felt like I spent far too much time washing out the Kenwood bowl.

So by the time Sunday night rolled around, I was definitely in the baking groove, albeit a groove sans cake flour. I made these with the All Purpose and cornflour mix as per Rose's note. The result was that these cupcakes weren't as tender as with the cake flour. This recipe is quick and easy... so much so, that Rose brings in some faff factor with paper lined silver cupcake cakes, greased and floured. As you can probably guess, I didn't grease and flour my cupcakes, nor did I bother with the silver lined fancy.

This is a cocoa and hot water based cake - no actual chocolate in the cake. To this egg yolks and oil are beaten in until it looks like amazing butter cream (but tastes pants aka awful). Then the AP/Cake flour is mixed in, in two batches, then the egg whites. And then as you are scraping down the sides of the bowl because you couldn't find a beater blade during your 48 hour sojourn in Phily, you get some cake mix on your hand. And instead of wiping it off, you *accidentally* lick your hand. Which is actually fortuitous, because then you discover it still tastes pants, because the sugar was missed out. Hmmm, mise en place anyone?

Once baked, you have to stab the cupcakes with a skewer (or the stem of your Thermapen) then brush them with ganache. I didn't brush my ganache. As soon as I saw it pooling all glossy like, I called these done and dispensed with the additional faff of the chocolate glaze. Plus there was no room in my cupcake cases to take any glaze. That might have had something to do with my inability to count. Rose instructed that this recipe should make fourteen. I got twelve. I am happy with twelve. One pan to wash instead of two. No glaze to make. Result.

In the end, I think the glaze would have been one step too far. For the cupcake. For the baker. And probably also for my marriage.

These chocolate cupcakes were okay, but for me, I prefer the Chocolate Butter Cupcakes. Which I see, annoyingly, I did not blog about. But I did actually make them. And they were amazing. These were just okay. Too much chocolate for these tastebuds. Or maybe I just baked too many cakes this weekend.

Next week - Lemon Meringue Cake. Oh, and a three tier wedding cake with white chocolate buttercream encased in white chocolate cigarillos with fresh strawberries, plus a chocolate cake on the side. I had better organise things so that my husband gets out for a ride on his motorbike this weekend. It is much easier to be a baking widower if you aren't chasing a two year old around a park.

Not Dead, but this might be Heaven

2010-07-08T14:33:00.000+01:00

The break in transmission is being interrupted by some photos of why I have been too "busy" to bake.

I am holed up, just trying to make it to the end of every day. It is a real hardship, let me tell you. Not everyone could cope with this kind of pace.

In all honesty, I haven't read anything on the internet for weeks - but I will be back very soon.

I have managed to finagle a trip to the US through work - Philadelphia in fact. It is literally a flying visit, arrive on a Monday evening, out again on the Wednesday evening. Now, I just need to work out the closest Williams & Sonoma store to Loews Hotel, and somehow get there during opening hours. I can see beater blades and a bundt tin or two making it in my homeward bound luggage. That definitely beats two weeks of washing from this current holiday.

Philadelphia recommendations welcomed...

Chocolate Covered Strawberry Cake

2010-06-16T20:48:00.000+01:00

So much baking, so little blogging. I did bake the chocolate butter cupcakes last week. And the German Chocolate Cake. But nary a word nor photo hit this blog. I have some catching up to do. Like a poor inventory manager, I will adopt the LIFO approach to blogging. In all honesty, I can barely remember the finer details of making this cake, let alone cupcakes and chocolate cake from over a week ago.

First off - mis en place. Actually, this was the mis en place photo I took for the Chocolate Butter Cupcakes - strangely, the mis en place is exactly the same for this cake also.

I know, I embarrass my self constantly on this blog. I am hoping that the sharp intake of breath around the world will give me the impetus to sort out my "pantry". Yes, that is the extent of my food pantry. Massive isn't it? For scale, that is a 5lb bag of flour and the smallest jar ever of skippy peanut butter. It can barely contain the eight varieties of chocolate, six different grades of sugar and countless experimental purchases of flours of differing proteins and packaging. I must confess that I have a separate cupboard for oils and spices.

Enough shame, onto cake. I was a bit dubious about this cake. Back when I was less of a juggler, I watched three professionals tear apart amateur cooks in a show called Britains Best Dish. Can I tell you how annoyed I am that the link doesn't explain the concept of the show - just gives you recipes!?! In a nutshell the show pits amateur chefs against each other, course by course. To cut an extremely long story short (even I am bored by this paragraph), they rabbited on and on about how the pairing of strawberry and dark chocolate is akin to crimes against human taste buds. But you know what? I might just go on that show and teach them a thing or two about strawberries and dark chocolate. I am here to say that they can work. And here is how.

First make a white chocolate egg white & butter cake. Which is actually pretty simple. The tricky bit is baking them for exactly the right amount of time. I got one right. One just the far side of right. There has to be some law of physics driving the last three minutes of cake baking. From toothpick pulling out wet to toothpick coming out dry from a rapidly shrinking cake is about three minutes - less than 10% of the entire baking time. Will have to get the husband onto that calculation. I followed Vicki's tip and depanned the cakes immediately - I think this helped alot actually.

I am very short in photos this week. The other HCB'ers have fab photos, so if you want to see the entire process click around.

Like Marie, I was astounded by the mousseline. Before the HCB group, I hardly ever iced my cakes - primarily because I don't like super sweet, grainy icing, and secondly because I am at my core, a lazy person with a morbid dislike of sifting icing sugar. But now? Now I didn't even think twice about making this mousseline. Whipped egg whites, beaten butter, a candied sugar syrup, strawberry jam (no I didn't sieve it and I lived to tell the tale) all at just the right temperature and mixed in just so? Not even phased. I think that cavalier attitude worked in my favour, because this mousseline was amazing. A doddle in fact. Assuming you have a thermometer, some scales, two mixers, a perfectly temperate room and said cavalier attitude. Just look at it - doesn't it look amazing? Not bubbly or split or anything. Just creamy pink tinged perfection.

The next step is to split the cakes and fill them. Rose instructs a cake, mousseline then jam on the top. That sounded tricky, so I decided on cake, then spread on the jam then the mousseline on top of that. Much easier to spread jam on a dry surface than a soft creamy fluffy surface. But then I guess a pike dive is much easier than a triple somersault with double pike - so I guess I lose points for complexity?

I definitely also lose points for misplaced mis en place. I was retrieving something (vanilla extract I think?) from my oil/spice cupboard and something happened to topple out midst cake composition.

I can tell you that this cake is very robust. You can drop a bottle of balsamic vinegar from height and it will do no damage. I like to think that the strawberries were calling to the balsamic, like a siren. Then you just keep layering until you run out of cake. You don't have to drop the bottle of balsamic on each layer - but whatever works for you.

The biggest tip I have for this cake is do not, under any circumstances be tempted to smooth that leftover stunning mousseline around the outside of your cake. If you do, you may end up with less than attractive sides to your cake... The glaze of dark chocolate (and in my case) golden syrup and vanilla essence is relatively warm when it goes on the cake. Relatively warm chocolate glaze onto light as air mousseline means that things end up looking a bit smeared.

The next biggest tip I have is to have Rose or Woody come around to your place to put this top dressing on your cake. What a flipping palaver. Cavalier attitude be buggered. I am not sure what you need to do to get the gorgeous swirls a la Rose. That glaze is sticky (as my grandmother used to say). Touch it at your peril. I swear it could trap stray animals. I could barely extract the cake from beneath its foil cage. I poured mine on (without protective wax strips in place) and then just had to cut the cake from its chocolate feet.

This cake was a hit. The cake was light and fluffy and perfect, the mousseline perfect, the chocolate glaze (sticky as it was) rounded out a fantastic trifecta. This is the perfect way to eat strawberries, cream and chocolate.

My little assistant was particularly keen on this cake. Even before it was dressed, he was reaching into the cutlery drawer to find forks which were then used in attempt at self service. I will definitely be making this again. I can imagine finely sliced strawberries replacing the jam. Maybe even strawberries sprinkled with balsamic?

I have also signed up to make a three tier wedding cake for a woman at my work. Am I insane? So far three different flavors to be finalised amongst the contenders in their Strawberries and Cream themed wedding cake (they are getting married in Wimbledon at the end of July) are this cake, the chocolate wedding cake in HCB, banana cake, carrot cake. All with the dreamy creamy white chocolate icing. Then encased in white chocolate cigarillos. At the end of July. Yes, clearly I am insane.

Chocolate Ingots and a second attempt at Baby Lemon Disasters

2010-06-02T22:12:00.000+01:00

This weekend was free choice week. The hardest thing is deciding what to make. The math goes something like

Maries Cakes Baked - My Cakes Baked = Cakes I should cook during free choice week

I think the stats are 52 - 30 something = I will be baking cakes long after Marie dusts the icing sugar from her hands and puts away her beater blade. To try to even the score a little I decided to do two Rose recipes this week.

The first was the "I shall not be beaten by a faffing water bath" Baby Lemon Cheesecakes. Only, I was beaten by the faffing water bath. Again. I have now marked my recipe book with a "bake in the round, do not be tempted by the cuteness of the itty bitty - disaster looms".

To be totally honest, I managed to have six perfect little cheesecakes, but lost two in the great flood (even with the supportive rack in place). I lost another two as I pulled the same tray out of the water bath and one of the other cakes sprawled out of its cup over the unflooded remainder. Not an attractive look. I was so peeved at the futility of it all that I didn't bother with the lemon curd. Quite glad that I didn't waste more effort and ingredients. Because once the six keepers had chilled they were a bit undercooked. Another batch of Baby Lemon Cheesecakes consigned to the drain. I retire, defeated from that recipe.

The second free choice was the Chocolate Ingots. I chose this recipe for a few reasons.

Quick and easy.
It was the recipe that frightened the living baker out of me! Caramelising cocoa nibs! I was totally intimidated. Not only new techniques but weird ingredients.
The only place I had seen cocoa nibs was supporting the petit four chocolates that are served with the bill at our favourite restaurant, La Trompette. I was prepared to eat my way through a three course dinner and drink amazing wine just so I could tip that little bowl of nibs into my handbag for this recipe. The sacrifices I make for HCB recipes.

As it turned out, I found them in the local healthfood shop for 1/80th of the price of a meal for two at La Trompette. Imagine my disappointment!

The first step for this recipe is to make some beurre noisette. I have now browned butter quite a few times. If you can boil water and tell yellow from brown, you can make beurre noisette. It is ready when you start to see brown specks foaming their way through. Just be warned that you should sieve it at this point... don't leave it to sit in the pot whilst you faff about finding the sieve and a bowl large enough to support the sieve. I think I was lucky this time. Next time I will take Rose's advice and prepare in advance. As much as I love extreme baking, I would have been greatly annoyed burning a pound of butter.

From the sieved leftovers, you can see that it was pretty much on the cusp. Thankfully the right side of the cusp. I have to say that this is the best beurre noisette I have ever made. It was really nutty, so it did benefit from my faff factor.

Sometimes you have to make a few sacrifices to the baking gods to have them smile benevolently on your beurre noisette.

Next is caramelising the chocolate nibs. Rose instructs that the sugar and nibs (yes, they be the nibs, not bark chips from an orchid - easy to confuse) should be stirred continuously in the pan over heat until the sugar all but disappears. Apparently this should take less than four minutes.

I really stuffed this up. The sugar melted after a bit of coaxing, but I never really got to a place where I was happy that just a few white specks remained. I persevered. Even when the pan started smoking. I just patiently moved it off the heat, kept stirring and put it back on. By the third round of smoke, I called it done, mixed in a teensy bit of butter and then tipped it out on a baking sheet to crisp up.

Being the inclusive wife I am, I offered the nibs to my husband to taste first before I mixed them into the batter. His comment was "yeah, they definitely need to be cooked because they have a really bitter after taste..." I have watched enough episodes of Masterchef to know that burnt = bitter after taste. Those benevolent gods aren't blessed with masses of patience. The photo below is of the burned nibs. I was happy with the amount of "white specks" just not the taste of burned bark. That shapely wooden stick is a spurtle and is absolutely essential in matters of caramelising nibs, never limit your spurtle to porridge. And yes, I have actually attended the Golden Spurtle World Porridge Making Championships (2008). We live in an amazing world.

I took a different approach in my second attempt. I melted the sugar almost completely and then added in the nibs and put up with more white specks than I thought Rose would have tolerated. The result was far and away superior. Funny that.

The cake mixing is simplicity itself. Egg whites, almond meal (or toasted and ground if your name isn't Nicola), flour, corn flour, cocoa mixed until, well, mixed. Then you drizzle in the warm beurre noisette to create a kind of really thick chocolate mayonnaise. Rose gives you the option to mix in some of the chocolate nibs. I opted not to, I wasn't sure about the texture of what I thought would be bark in the smooth little bar. I sprinkled the nibs on the top and left them out of the mix.

You can barely see the nibs in these wee bars. They have sunk to just under the surface. Next time I will mix them in as well. That gentle crunch is actually quite nice and tastes nothing like orchid bark. Or at least how I would imagine orchid bark would taste - caramelised or no.

They are tricky little things to get into the molds. Which is probably why Rose suggests chilling the mix for an hour before piping it in. Obviously from the photo above, you can tell that I didn't do that. I just spooned it in and roughly smoothed them out. Very roughly. I can highly recommend those bar shaped silicon molds. They make the perfect serving size for big and little hands alike. And not nearly as annoying as teensy lemon baby cheesecakes.

These little cakes bake about in about 16 minutes. So assuming you already had some beurre noisette (or you could just use ghee, I guess) and some caramelised nibs, you could go from zero to having these with your cup of tea in about 40 minutes.

What do they taste like? I left these on the bench to cool last night, since I didn't finish baking and cleaning up until about 10.30pm. From the photo evidence, I can count 16. This afternoon, not even 24 hours later, there were 5. I have eaten 1. That means that between my son (aged not quite 2 and can't open tupperware) and my husband, they have consumed 10. From my one, I can tell you that they are pretty good. The chocolate nibs complement the moist texture. And for the first time ever, I can actually taste the nuttiness of the beurre noisette. Definitely on the bake again list.

I hope the sun is shining as brilliantly where you are as it was here in London today.

Bernachon Palet D'Or Gateau

2010-05-27T19:31:00.000+01:00

Chocolate cake covered with a creme fraiche chocolate ganache and then dressed with a shiny coat of chocolate glaze. You really do wonder how this cake could ever go wrong. And to be honest, it doesn't go wrong. It isn't puke inducing rich. How's that for a compliment? It looks quite amazing with that shimmery shiny glaze - like it must have taken hours. But you know what, I think I would almost put this onto the quick and easy cake list. Sure there are three components, but none of them are a big deal. In fact, other than the cooling time, you could probably whip this cake up in about an hour.

First the cake. Simplicity itself, a sour cream and cocoa base mixed in the now familiar two step method. Then into the pan insulated by cake strips - do not forget these! Thirty five minutes later, it looks great. Ten minutes to cool on the rack and then about 3 seconds to tear its bum getting out of the pan. You can just see the tear in the photo below. Nothing that ganache couldn't hide!

The ganache is super easy also, scald the creme fraiche and then blitz with the chocolate. Or you could do as Raymond and I do and just stir in the chocolate squares until it all comes together. I was a big worried about the ganache because it seemed pretty grainy. But as is most often the case, time is a great healer. And once everything was cooled enough to ice, the ganache came together perfectly.

Here is a tip from Kylie Minogue (who seems to favour her left very arched eyebrow a lot whilst posting for photos) - always have them photograph you from your best angle... No one really wants to see that your cake is a bit lopsided because the baker didn't smooth the mix properly.

The next step after ganaching the cake and determining its best angle, is to prepare the glaze. I had a young accountancy graduate reporting into me once upon a time. He was a bit weird, as accountants ~~usually~~ sometimes are. He had this saying that he spouted often...I think it was his Mother's mantra and I quickly discovered why.

"Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can, seldom found in woman, never found in man."

And as I prepared the glaze this cake, this very quote sprung to mind. Firstly because I actually sieved the glaze as instructed by Rose. And it was worth it. Those are undissolved bits of cocoa that you see below. Nothing more sinister than that. They would have looked awful lumping away on the top of my cake. Nothing says "OMG, what is that" like brown lumps on an otherwise perfect cake.

And secondly, because I glazed my cake a total of three times. First time my glaze was too hot, so it didn't quite cling to the ganache on the edges. The second time was better and the third time was just because I quite liked the process of watching the glaze run over the cake.

So, yes, you may need a little patience when composing this cake. And in the end, I think it is worth it. If not a wee bit messy.

That glaze makes the cake slice so nicely, it is quite incredible.

I had no redcurrants, just pomegranate bits. Pretty enough but not a match for the cake.

I served this cake with the option of creme fraiche or ice cream. I preferred the tang of the creme fraiche compared to the ice cream. In all honesty, I think this cake is a vehicle for the fabulous ganache and the show stoppingly impressive chocolate glaze. But be warned, that glaze is as unforgiving as those new fangled treggings. It shows lumps and bumps and dings and all those imperfections that come courtesy of laziness. If you want to see how it the professionals do it...

I have to admit that I found this cake a touch on the dry side. I have noticed that with a few of Rose's cakes, just ever so slightly needing a bit more moisture. How do I tweak the recipe to increase the moisture? More fat? More liquid? More ice cream when serving? Inquiring palates want to know.

Very little Baby Lemon Cheesecakes

2010-05-17T18:17:00.000+01:00

Very little, as in non existent. These babies went out with the bath water. Let this be a lesson to all of you, just because your silicon muffin pan *can* float in your water bath, it doesn't mean that you should let it. Heed Rose's advice and put in that wire rack for them to rest on.

Because just like at sea, the swell picks up more than a little when there is a bit of movement in the tectonic plates so do does the water in the roasting pan when you attempt to slide the shelf back into the oven. Unlike at sea, where you can batten down the hatches and let the waves wash over, those little roasting pans waves just washed in and didn't wash out.

And note, that hopping from leg to leg whilst uttering expletives doesn't prevent the second tray from succumbing to the white caps in the water bath.

Devastation. I was very much looking forward to ~~eating my way through~~ sharing twelve cheesecakes this week. So perhaps it was my subconscious (and my wardrobe) that resulted in disaster. My wardrobe would say that this was an no great loss compared to the damage twelve, albeit wee, cheesecakes would have done to my waistline...

The weekend wasn't a complete baking disaster. I managed to whip up a batch of very well received whoopie cakes. They went head to head with the most elaborate cupcakes I have ever seen. Lets just say that no one asked for the recipe for the cupcakes...

Back with a Gateau Breton

2010-05-11T21:21:00.001+01:00

Wow. That was longer than I expected. And during the past three weeks I was lucky to cook toast let along cake! I will have to play catchup because after reading the posts for the Coffee Chiffonlets and the St Honore Trifle, I cannot let them pass.

So, in the past three weeks, we have moved house (painful, painful, painful - why do I persist in agreeing to "do it ourselves" instead of paying for a man and a van to move the 11 loads of toys, 9 loads of kitchen stuff, 8 loads of books and 2 loads of everything else); welcomed my father in law and his wife through the volcanic ash haze; had six days in Seville (glorious and my almost two year old son has developed a taste for Caracoles - little snails cooked in garlic and herbs); and finally two days in Paris (working, so not very glamorous). We are still surrounded by boxes and disarray. Moving from a furnished house with lots of storage, to an unfurnished house with little storage has been interesting. And not interesting as in "who is going to be the UK prime minister?". Lets just say that I have a love/hate relationship with Ikea. Cheap and functional, but a soul destroying labyrinth of flat packed consumerism.

I am in love with my new kitchen. An expanse of black granite that advertises every single crumb in neon. A fantastic oven that actually heats to the temperature indicated on the dial. This is an absolute first for me! The only slight downfall is that no cupboard is big enough for my Kenwood or Magimix, so they have been relegated to to the "top shelf". If you read in the Darwin Awards about a woman killed by a blow to the head from a Kenwood...

This was a pretty easy cake to make. This is a cake from the Brittany region in France, renowned for its butter and dairy products. I searched high and low trying to find Brittany butter, well, to be honest, I just looked in the butter section at my local supermarket. Nothing from Brittany, so I ended up with President, which hails from Normandy and is 80% butter fat. Rose recommends 84% butter fat, the lower butter fat apparently results in a moister crumb, which makes sense since those four percentage points are replaced by water.

In general I am a big follower (some would say "instigator") of chaos theory. So things like the mise en place that I see other HCB'ers do on a regular basis is completely foreign to me. The photo above is my attempt at mise en place. Two of the ~~eight~~ nine ingredients required for this cake. Most of the time it all comes together with out any problems. On Sunday night, I realised I missed the vanilla extract after I had smoothed the cake into the tart pan, hence the eight ingredients instead of requisite nine. I brushed some vanilla extract on the top of my gateau, but I really do think it needs to go *into* the cake.

The cake is a traditional creaming method cake. Fats creamed with sugar, add in almond meal (I was lazy and didn't do the toast and grind as Rose requests), egg yolks added one at a time, then flour in batches.

These egg yolks were looking so glorious, I just had to take a photo of them. They look more like apricots than egg yolks. I was momentarily distracted by a cold glass of Rosé on my way back across the kitchen to the mixer when gravity and alcohol interacted. It is never good when gravity and alcohol get together...

I like to think it was my innate dexterity that prevented all five egg yolks hitting the deck, but I know it was more that I had finished swigging from my wine glass and righted my balance before the remaining eggs fell to the floor. And anyone who knows me in the flesh knows that my innate dexterity is almost non-existent.

So anyway, after I opened another egg yolk and beat it in, the mix looked a lot like this. In the euphoria of not dropping all the egg yolks I tipped them all into the mixer at once, instead of one at a time. I am not sure if this had any effect on the end cake. I did beat the mix for the total time and it seemed well combined.

This makes a really thick batter. More biscuit like than cake like. Which is exactly how Rose describes it - a cross between shortbread and pound cake.

The most difficult thing about this cake was smoothing it out evenly in the tin. That is if you discount the balancing of eggs on a plate whilst sipping your wine as you walk across the kitchen. Rose goes into a lot of detail in her recipes, but rest assured, that was my invention and not a requirement from Rose. So assuming you don't mix alcohol and motion with your eggs, you will be fine.

This is a completely gratuitous shot of my new oven. I am astounded that I can take a photo through the front of the oven and you can actually see what is inside, clearly. You may also see that my oven thermometer is measuring exactly as it should. A first for me. I may just take a photo of my oven each week to make sure that I continue to see into it and don't allow my cleaning chaos theory to spoil it.

I'm not raving about this cake. Sure, we have eaten it (best warm from the oven with clotted cream icecream), but it doesn't call me up the stairs in the middle of the night. And I wouldn't have missed it if it had been sent to office mouths. I am a bit non-plussed by the middle ground of shortbread and pound cake. I am a big fan of shortbread, and not fussed by pound cake. So I guess any deviation from the shortbread end of that linear scale was going to leave me a bit disappointed. I do think that my appreciation of it was somewhat dimmed by me forgetting the vanilla extract. It tastes a lot of butter, eggs and a smidge of almond and Effen Black Cherry Vodka, but I can say I miss the completeness or familiarity that vanilla adds.

This won't be going on my bake again list. I might try it again if I ever end up in Brittany and I have eaten my fill of baguette and butter and pastries and flan and, well, you get the idea.

Next week is baby Lemon Cheesecakes. I am not sure if mine will be baby or not. I haven't done anything about a pan. The English must not be big bakers, or at least, not into specialty pans, because they are pretty hard to source over here. I do have a little giggle that the land of the big has such an array of little specialty pans. I need to finagle myself a work trip to the States...

Two Fat Cats Whoopie Pie

2010-04-22T21:39:00.000+01:00

My husband has renamed these WooHoo Pies. For some bizarre reason (I totally blame Michelle Pfeiffer), every time I read Whoopie, my brain translates it to Sex. Yes, I know it is spelled differently and I can't imagine any Amish having such impure thoughts when they ripped into their lunchboxes in the fields. Sex Pies just sounds weird. And wrong. But maybe I just lack imagination? Actually, I can't expend any more brain matter on the association of Whoopie Pies with sex - it is totally weirding me out.

Whoopie Pies have become the new cupcake in London. They are even in Harrods. But that shouldn't surprise me - Harrods sell everything, including lion cubs (not the stuffed variety). And if ever there was a better photo of the owners resembling their pets, then I would love to see it!

My one and only dalliance with the UK version of the Whoopie Pie left me wholly unimpressed - I won't tell you where I got it from, let's just say they were American and I paid a number of pounds and I expected a whole lot more. True, it was big. Massive. So I didn't expect more "size", just more taste. The problem was the cake was dry and the buttercream filling was gritty and almost inedible. Even my son wouldn't eat any of it and handed it back to me. It was akin to cheese (for some bizarre reason, he loves vegetables but detests cheese) to his little tastebuds.

Given that experience, Rose's recipe could only be better. And boy oh boy, was it ever better. By a factor of approximately 11,547. The ingredients were quite diverse for a chocolate cake - dark brown (muscovado of course) sugar, buttermilk, oil and butter, melted chocolate, cocoa and only one egg, then the usual flour and leavening. My photos are a bit sparse. It is a pretty dark mix, even before adding the melted chocolate and db sugar.

The method for this cake was to cream the fats with the sugar and then mix in the chocolate before alternately adding dry and wet ingredients. Rose has you use a stand mixer, but you could definitely make this with a hand mixer, or even just with a wooden spoon and some decent arm action.

The trickiest thing about this recipe was portioning out the mounds of cake on the baking sheet. I am quite envious of the range of icecream scoops the North Americans have access to. How I wish that photo was of my collection. My ice cream scoop is a tablespoon. So given Rose mentioned that it was a 2 tablespoon ice cream scoop, I duly heaped out two tablespoons piles. Sometime around the fourth pile I started to think that maybe I wouldn't get to Rose's 12 piles. This photo is a bit deceptive, because they actually started out pretty big and then progressively got less big. I ended up getting 10 piles.

Instead of scraping it back in the bowl and starting again, I just made do. Next time I will make these as one tablespoon portions. That seems to be a better eating size - these massive ones were cut into quarters. Which now makes me laugh because at no point did any of us stop at that substantial quarter. So we had Whoopie pies as big as my head and also in a small perfect serving size for one. The smaller diameter cakes had better height than the massive sprawling ones. Having just read an Economist article I can compare my progressive Whoopie pies as LA vs Portland. Both good, just in different ways.

On to the icing. I substituted Corn syrup for Golden Syrup, because that was all I ever have. And I probably heated it to over the recommended temperature, but it didn't spoil the icing. I am not so sure it was fluffy like marshmallow but it tasted amazing. I mixed this with a handmixer as it didn't seem to be enough volume to warrant the big guns.

Given my ridiculous portioning of the cakes, I decided to be a bit more precise in the application of icing to cake. Which is unusually uptight of me - except I note that I am 2 grams under Rose's recommendation, so I am not *that* uptight it would appear.

I took these cakes to a friends place for dinner on Saturday night. Both my husband and I rued that decision all the way home and then all the next day and then halfway into this week, which was a bit silly, since they never would have made it past Sunday.

This week we are moving house. We are moving to a bright and sunny flat in Kew, about 300 metres from Kew Gardens. If you are ever in London, and you are keen on the green, then catch the District Line out and see these amazing gardens. They have two massive glass houses built in the mid 1800's when collecting exotic plants was all the rage.

Even in the midst of moving I will be baking a few things, mainly because my extremely sweet toothed father in law is finally making it to London on Monday night. They were due to arrive last week, however Iceland's revenge took care of that. And a week without a plane overhead every 45 seconds was really quite peaceful, but eerie. I would have felt like I was on a deserted island, except for I catch the Tube to work every day, and you never feel isolated when your face is pressed into some stranger's armpit. Even if they don't acknowledge your existence.

Things will be a bit quiet around here, mainly because we didn't sort out our internet connection, and that will take five working days. Whoops. And also because we are off to Seville on Wednesday evening until the 4th of May. I won't be baking cakes that weekend, but I may well eat a few... So, see you in a week or two.

I have a special ~~warning~~ message for Marie, given that she is celebrating breaking the back of Rose's +90 cakes in the HCB. (BTW, this mug is excellent to drink tea from).

Banana Refrigerator Cake

2010-04-13T21:11:00.000+01:00

I'm back! Planets have come into alignment and I have found my way back into the kitchen. This Banana Cake made me return - it has a force greater than gravity - resistance is futile. I have actually made it about four times, each time slavishly following Rose's instructions. Using the food processor to whiz the banana's, creme fraiche and eggs, stand mixer to mix the sugar and egg mixture together before sifting in the dry ingredients and beating for another few minutes blah, blah blah. Last night I took charge, ditched my slavish approach and went for a PB preparation time. On your marks... that is 8.23pm for those that can't really see it that well.

The clock had started. No mis en place, in fact, ingredients were still in the cupboards, pan unprepared. I used my teeny tiny Kenwood hand mixer food processor thingy to whiz my black bananas and creme fraiche and eggs and vanilla.

It was the perfect size really, and I should never forget that! And alot more simple to clean afterwards. The rest of the ingredients I just mixed in a bowl with a whisk, and I sifted nothing.

The mix emulsified quite quickly and I had no issues with the flour not mixing in properly. All in the pan and ready for the oven by 8.39pm. So, 16 minutes from start to finish. I don't think I could make a packet mix in that time... mainly because I would spend 15 minutes having a personal crisis and a flagellation about using said packet mix. The horror!

Into the oven for I am not sure how long. I think roughly the time Rose said. I can't remember, because I didn't take a photo of the microwave clock... um, perhaps my short term memory ain't quite as hot as it used to be. I blame sleep deprivation (although I do wonder when the placenta will vacate my short term memory area-can someone please reassure me?).

The Dreamy Creamy White Chocolate icing (or whatever it is called) is easy to make, so long as everything (just the cream cheese and butter really) is at the right temperature. If not, which it wasn't for me, then 10 seconds in the microwave at 20% power make things right. I did use the electric hand beater for the icing. Cream cheese, butter, a dollop of creme fraiche and the secret ingredient of white chocolate. This is bliss, absolute bliss. Make it. Like Vicki, you will be wanting to run away with it, forsaking all other icings.

I am really rubbish at applying icing, so the before photos always look much prettier than the after photos... can I please request at the HCB'ers get together that some of the more talented (everyone else!) leads a hands on tutorial?

I first made this cake with Kate Flour and it worked okay, but did end up with the wet layer that Rose talked about. I made it with Gold Medal All Purpose - same deal a very slight wet stodgy layer. With the cake flour - perfection. Even crumb, delicate, the oil allows the banana flavour to really shine. I assume that butter masks some of that flavour in a traditional banana cake. I left out the lemon zest this time - I can't discern it in the final cake. I also left out the almond essence in the icing, only because I think almond essence is the work of the devil. Along with cherry essence.

My lazy method resulted in a slightly less high cake, but really, not a deal breaker for me. The lazy method wins out. I mean, 16 minutes, a few rotting banana's and some creme fraiche, some white chocolate and cream cheese... it doesn't get more simple than that. Plus no flagellation required (unless you are into that kind of thing).

This cake is so easy and quick and reliable, it will forever be in my cake universe, on an orbit similar to Mars. Assuming that US cake flour is also in that same orbit.

I am looking forward the Whoopie Pies this weekend. I sampled my very first one about two months ago and I was massively unimpressed. The frosting was gritty, the cake itself dry... it can only be up from there.

What Google Wants to Know

2010-03-27T20:01:00.000Z

I was checking through what brings people to this blog - other than via Marie's fabulous Heavenly Cake Baker. Gladly, nothing too bizarre or weird. Just people wanting to know why their cakes don't turn out quite like the pictures in the book - take comfort, your cake probably looks like better than mine! There are people searching for recipes (sorry, none here - but definitely buy Rose's Heavenly Cakes, I can't recommend it enough). Yes, you can use almond meal/ground almond instead of toasting and grinding whole or slivered almonds and the cake will be fine (I actually think better than fine unless you are after a coarse texture and the crunch of almond).

In response to a couple of search requests, I have created a simple excel template for scaling recipes up or down. For example, last week when I made the Peanut Butter Ingots, I defrosted egg whites and found that I had 224 grams instead of the 120 grams that the recipe called for. So instead of throwing the excess out, I just scaled up my recipe to use up all the egg whites. You can only scale a recipe for one variable. I have also set it up so that you can input the recipe pan size/cupcake quantity and then scale it to the pan size you have/cupcakes you want. Note that there is none of Rose's baking powder adjustments in these recipes... maybe in version 2!

The example is in metric, but it will work for cups and imperial. Though don't ask me what 0.837 of a cup actually looks like... Buy some scales and your baking life will be way more simple and your cupboard free from those measuring cups!

Can you tell I am procrastinating about baking the Succes? I am having my own little internal debate about the lemon tea powder. I have found a few versions of it. I love lemon, but I hate lemon and dark chocolate. Maybe I could substitute cranberry & raspberry or just use up the Almond Ganache frozen after the Chocolate Pine Cone adventure. But then again, maybe Rose's version of chocolate and lemon will be fabulous and I will be missing out? Isn't it great that this is the most perplexing issue that I have in my life right now?!

Peanut Butter Ingots

2010-03-26T22:29:00.001Z

Wow! Five days late. What's more, there are still two and a half of these things left. Which is surprising given that peanut butter is treated as a separate food group by a certain person in this house. It has taken me years to not be offended by my husband having peanut butter on toast after I have cooked him dinner. And truth be known, I still get a wee bit peeved sometimes. Like - why do I bother cooking? Why don't you just have peanut butter on toast for your dinner too, save me washing up... like, I said, I am completely over it. Maybe.

It has been a long week around these parts. The nanny was sick, I was sick and then the little assistant came down with the norovirus. Let's just say that I was too busy with laundry to blog about these little peanut butter fingers before now.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Unfortunately for you all, there is only one picture this week. So, here come the next twelve thousand words... Except I don't think I can write twelve thousand tonight, or ever to be honest, about these cakes.

These were pretty simple to make - especially since I had frozen egg whites and cheated by using ground almonds, instead of toasting and grinding sliced blanched almonds. The hardest thing about these cakes was getting them in the molds. However the old trick of snipping the corner off a freezer bag to squeeze out the mixture worked a treat, so really they rightly deserve their spot on the quick and easy list.

That said, I don't think I will be making them again. Neither my peanut butter loving husband nor I really liked them that much. I kept wishing they didn't have that weird light peanut butter flavour. I wanted the peanut flavour to be stronger or not at all, and also that the instant hit of sweetness from the powdered sugar to be dialled back a tad. Hence why there are still two and a half left. Actually, can someone tell me if using powdered (icing) sugar versus granulated sugar would make a cake taste different?

The texture was perfect (I will definitely stick with my cheaters ground almond) and they have kept really well - actually improved in texture and moistness as the week has raced by. Not sold on the peanut butter flavour, but I definitely like these almond financiers. And really, if you haven't already got a financier mold, then I would recommend getting one. The final cakes are a perfect size and loads easier to get in your mouth than a cupcake. Was that an inappropriate thing to write?

Clearly, I better up the photo count this week, because I am blathering and I need less words and more photos.

Onwards to meringue disks and chocolate something or others this week.

Updated to say : apologies for my poor commenting in the past couple of weeks... I will strive to do better!

Sicilian Pistachio (Cup)cakes

2010-03-15T21:45:00.000Z

Last week I decided not to make this cake, primarily because I couldn't find shelled unsalted pistachios. I think my local supermarket is sourcing ingredients on Just In Time for Marie's baking schedule, because I swear those pesky shelled pistachios weren't there last week. But this Saturday they were, so here I am posting. All talk and, as it so happens, all action too! This working lark is doing wonders for my motivation levels.

For some strange reason, I figured this cake would be difficult and time consuming. My subconscious thought that each one of those vivid green pistachio slivers were hand cut and placed "just so" on the cake with tweezers. If you don't have Rose's book, then check out Matthew's photos. Doesn't that look like a cake that requires effort? Impressive isn't it. Truth be told, even though I bagged the elusive pistachios, I was still unconvinced about going to all that effort. I sought my usual Sunday inspiration and had a revalation that I didn't need tweezers or a scalpel to prepare the cake. In fact, I was so inspired (and my Tupperware was already half full of Rose's Sticky Toffee Pudding with Butterscotch Toffee Sauce from Saturday nights dinner party) that I opted to cupcake the recipe.

Such an easy cake to make. Especially if you don't blanch the pistachios! My subconscious must have been feeling rather lazy, because I didn't connect that "blanched" actually means more than "shelled". So, if you are particularly keen, go ahead and blanch those nuts. The nuts are whizzed with the sugar, but not too fine - don't look to me for any definition of that, because I think I overwhizzed.

This is the ole two step method cake. Mix the dry ingredients, add the fat, then add the whisked eggs padded out with some of the sour cream in two batches. Literally, this cake is ready for the oven in about 15 minutes. This recipe made 16 cupcakes, and I would have got 18 if I had been a little less generous. I can't remember how long they took to bake. Just keep an eye on them - sorry, I am not very helpful with this post. The trickiest thing about this cake was trying to read the recipe around a shipwrecked pirate ship.

I couldn't find any pistachio essence or extract - my supermarket needs to pay closer attention, so I used the almond extract instead. I think I will seek out the pistachio essence, given I am not a fan of the faint almond undertone. It is ever so slight and it has faded to a lower note today. This cake was even quicker because I opted out of making the icing. I happily unearthed some mystery icing that was in the freezer. I am embarrassed to say that I am not quite sure what it actually is. I *think* it was the leftovers from Woody's Lemon Cake, so that would make it white chocolate lemon buttercream. It is actually a great pairing, the lemon is very slight. The flavour is quite like a really well made pistachio gelato - creamy with just a slight note of pistachio nuttiness.

I didn't go mad on the pistachio topping. My pistachios were such insipid dull little creamy green impersonators of pistachios. Can you tell I am having pistachio envy?

These little cupcakes have generated some rave reviews. The little assistant ate two today and was still pointing for more. His Dad has also eaten several and was also pointing for more. I think they will be on the repeat list!

Oh, and by the way - the toffee pudding with the butterscotch sauce? Amazing. Get some of that on your plate quickly.

Chocolate Apricot Roll with Lacquer Glaze

2010-03-08T22:44:00.000Z

On Sunday evening on our drive back from Brighton, I had decided that I would cut my losses. I would hurl my Saturday attempt at apricot Lekvar which was masquerading as fruit ~~toffee~~ resin and take a week out from the HCB'ers. Which was a little disappointing, given how much of a ~~cake martyr~~ team player I am. As I was coming to terms with missing out on a week of posting (and therefore comments), I checked in with Raymond and learned a few things.

Raymond gets up stupid early o'clock to go to the gym. I didn't even know they opened gyms that early! That man is dedicated.
That I really needed to bake this cake.

I quite like that Raymond posts early, that way I can pick up a few tips and some inspiration and motivation. I think the only time I have ever eaten the chocolate and apricot combination was whilst on holiday in Adelaide. Those South Australian's go mad for FruChocs. Me? Not so much. As in, not at all. As in, didn't finish the packet. Not sure if it was the apricot/choc pairing or the not-amazing-chocolate chocolate coating that I put. Anyway, I don't have Raymond's nor Rose's deep love affair for the apricot and chocolate duet. Would this cake see that change? Ah, the suspense!

It is now Monday night and I started this cake on Saturday. That would be when I made the Apricot Resin aka Levkar. Not very difficult to make, the difficulty comes in being able to count to three. You see, Rose has you boil the apricots and water (note, don't add the sugar then, like I did) for a while until they soften.

Then process with the sugar et al and then put back on the heat until it becomes a deep orange colour and it takes three seconds to drop from a tablespoon. Yeah, well. Apparently I can't count to three very well. Because once my levkar cooled, it was solid and the only way to get it to spreadable consistency was to heat it and add more water. Alot more water. Maybe my tablespoon loosens it grip on the levkar more quickly than Rose's... 95% of the stuff would drop off in the first second. A temperature guide would have been much more fool proof than just assuming that everyone can count to three. In the end it didn't really matter, because all I needed to cover my tracks was a microwave and then water. In that order.

I expected the Levkar to be more tangy than it actually was, but I think that was due to the quality of the apricots I used. They weren't anything special, and you could tell! I washed out a couple of jam jars and used that to store the resin. Very difficult to chisel it out, now that it has set.

Fast forward to Sunday night and I whipped up the sponge, which really was pretty easy. Strangely, there was no heating of the eggs and the volume didn't seem to suffer in the slightest.

Right about now was when I missed Rose's "understanding cakes" section from the TCB - Rose, how come we don't have to heat the eggs this time? It bothered me for about three seconds, and then I silently thanked her for one less faffing step and one less pot to wash... little did I know that the glaze would more than make up for that one pot saved!

After beating the eggs to four times their volume (give or take) you then fold in the flours in two batches. And then the whites. As an aside, I read that recipe about six times and I still have no idea when to add in the vanilla extract. I just threw it in with the eggs in the first step.

About ten minutes later you pull this out of the oven and get to marvel at how well you didn't smooth the surface... cunningly disguised by powdered sugar. And then you quickly roll it so all faults are gone, and given they are on the inside, it is no big deal. Just my little secret. I made the ganache on Sunday night also, because it is super quick to grind chocolate and tip in scalded cream.

I "composed" the cake tonight, whilst making dinner, so again, not difficult. I didn't syrup the cake, and after eating a slice, I wish that I had. Hopefully, like Rose promises, the ganache will moisten the cake up perfectly sometime between now and tomorrow evening. Spread on the loosened up Lekvar, then the ganache, roll it back up and crumb coat with the faintest covering of ganache. No photos of this - probably because it was all pretty quick. If you can make a sandwich, you can make this cake.

Then comes the wow factor of the Lacquer glaze. I really dislike the word Lacquer - when I say it sounds like lack-her and well, that sounds like "she" has a "lack" of something. Not right. Anyway, pronunciation and my weirdness aside, this glaze is the business. Easy to make. You don't even have to count to three or any other number. Just stir and pour. Like making instant gravy, you even boil water and mix in a few other things. Easy. Rose has lots of helpful temperatures in this section, so that made my life quite simple. It does use about fourteen different bowls and pans and sieves and mixing utensils, but you could probably do it with a pan and one bowl and one sieve and one jug. That is still a lot isn't it? It really is simple and you really should make it because it really is impressive.

Whilst the glaze is still warm, you need to get it onto your cake. Make haste at this point, but pour it on slowly and carefully and remember that for once, gravity is your best baking assistant.

I have just eaten a slice now and I did find the cake a bit dry... so definitely use the syrup. Probably not helped by me baking the cake 24 hours ago. I am still not sold on the apricot/chocolate matchup... maybe in a few days. My guess is, if you are from South Australia or already understand the love that is Apricot and chocolate, you will love this cake.

Enjoy. Next week I am definitely out as I can't find shelled pistachio's anywhere! And I can't see shelling salted pistachios in my near future. Yuck. Salted pistachios on a sweet cake. No thanks. I will be reading along though.

Lemon Poppy Seed - Sour Cream Cake

2010-03-01T21:50:00.000Z

Sometimes I wonder whether Rose will list *all* the ingredients when she names one of her cakes in her next book... This is no Lemon Poppy Seed Cake with a mystery ingredient. Nope. Rose tells everyone what makes this cake so great. Lemons. Poppy Seeds. Sour Cream. Amazing.

Smart comments aside, this cake is freaking amazing. I did wonder for a split second last week, whether two lemon cakes back to back was a good idea. It didn't take long for me to realise that two weeks of lemon cake would be no hardship, given my deep love of a lemony tang. And as it turns out, I was right. Two weeks of lemon cake, is like two weeks staying in an incredible hotel, overlooking a balmy azure blue sea and eating amazing food. Sure, not everyone's dream come true, but it is definitely mine, and since making Lemon cake is a bit easier and cheaper than two weeks on Lord Howe Island, I'll be happy enough with cake.

Right, to the details. It is another two step cake and almost a pound cake. You know the ones - equal measures of flour, egg, butter and sugar. It took me ages to work out why it was called a pound cake, because everything in my Mum's Edmonds Cookbook was in a strange mixture of weights and cup measures. I thought it was so named because it had such a heavy texture! Ahem. That may have been my technique rather than anything to do with the cake.

As you can see, there is a lot of lemon zest in this cake. Anywhere from 238,000 to 365,000 poppy seeds. You don't need to count every single poppy seed - 50 grams will get you to the same result way quicker. Though, if you need to keep the kids occupied for a little while... I also subbed in a quarter teaspoon of last week's lemon oil in place of some of the vanilla essence. I told you I liked lemon.

I have a small crush on this little whisk thingy. Those Salter scales have got to go. Or else they need a new battery. Hmmm, £35 for new scales or £2 for a new battery. I better think that decision through very carefully. And yes, that is a white thermapen in the top left hand side of the photo. I think that has been a great learning with Rose's new guidelines with measuring the temperature of the butter/whatever. I always did wonder what room temperature meant, especially when I moved from sub tropical Brisbane to less tropical London. The Gulf Stream isn't quite that good when it comes to bringing my kitchen to room temperature.

I baked this cake in the stand by bundt tin. I wished I had a fancy pants pan. But I don't, well, not yet, anyway. As per last week, I had to do some minor cosmetic surgery. No where near as dramatic as last week, but enough for me to wish I was living in the land of Pam.

Once baked, this cake gets a liberal application of lemon syrup. I think this weeks lemon cake was a bit more robust than the Golden Lemon cake, or maybe my technique was better. It also probably helped that most of my cake made it out of the pan in one piece, unlike last weeks attempt.

Now, Rose in her handy Plan Ahead section, instructs that this cake is best composed a day ahead of serving it. Here is where she and I disagree. Eat this as soon as it is cool enough. Sure, the syrup hasn't evenly dissipated through the cake. But really, this is no dry genoise that needs loads of syrup to help you swallow it down. We ate our first, second and third slices (don't judge me until you have this cake smelling all lemony and sitting all glistening on your bench) about three hours after it came out of the oven. It was incredible. Tender, little crunchy pops from the seeds, lemon zings from the zest and the syrup, the subtle tartness of the sour cream, and a fantastic crumb. Um, yes, I do *kind of* like this cake.

We have eaten more of it this morning, today and this evening (all in the name of research and evaluation of course), and it has lost some tenderness of its crumb, and the syrup has spread more evenly. It is still a great cake, but I think I prefer it at its earlier stage. When you can taste the zing of the syrup in contrast to the delicate cake. The syrup was almost a sauce rather than an integral part of the cake in those first few hours after its birth. Strange, because last week's Golden Lemon Almond Cake (lemons, almond but no gold!), I preferred after it had mellowed a few days.

Until next week. I can't say I am overly looking forward to the Chocolate Apricot Roll with Lacquer Glaze. That sounds like a very unforgiving cake... thankfully, it isn't in a bundt pan, so I have some hope of starting without the cosmetic surgery.

Golden Lemon Almond Cake

2010-02-23T21:07:00.000Z

Clearly, this is not the German Chocolate Cake that I thought I was going to make. And clearly I didn't beat Raymond into pole position for this weeks post. Who am I kidding, I am more than likely to be last.

Given there is no bread in the house (and therefore no breakfast), the little assistant is still in the land of nod and my nanny is still thirty minutes away from arriving, I will do my best to churn out a post this early morning. Yes, I got the job. My second interview consisted of me accepting the position and then I was promptly given my security details, a huge pile of reading and an office in which to perch. It was quite unexpected really - as in, I expected to start later, instead of "right then", but kind of fun to be back in the workplace. Imagine my relieved surprise when I reached into the depths of my brain, pressed the "On" button and it actually worked. I think my husband was also surprised because I have been pretty much unable to complete a full sentence for the past 19 months.

Look at me now. Full sentences. Spreadsheets start today when my laptop will hopefully arrive. Bizarre to go from slippers/hiking boots and jeans to high heels, suits and makeup (though not nearly as glamorous as Vicki intimated in last weeks comments!). My feet are definitely suffering.

This weeks free choice cake. I must say it is quite exciting watching Marie's blog roll to see what people have made. I have to admit to just reading the post headings at this stage and not the actual posts... later this week, I promise!

I was all set to make the German Chocolate cake, well, mentally at least. And then Hanaa commented that she was thinking about making the Golden Lemon Almond Cake and my fickle mind was changed quickly. It helped that the only exotic ingredient was a lemon, and just a syrup to prepare for a single bundt layer. Simplicity itself.

Ha! So here it is the evening of this very morning where I thought I would get this post finished. I swear tonight is the night!

I won't bore you my tedious description of the method. Just know that I logged my second successful two-step method, so I am pretty happy. Actually, I will bore you a little, if only as a reminder to myself. Toast nuts, mix dry ingredients, add most of the wet ingredients, add egg in two lots, bake, syrup, depan, done. Now, for some details...

The toasting and grinding of the almonds that Rose now recommends? Yep, I am over it. I suck at toasting nuts - primarily because my timer is rubbish and blanks out completely halfway through countdown, somewhat like myself, now that I think about it. V. annoying. I just salvaged the less brown almonds and started the toasting again.

This is a very lemony cake. A hefty portion of this Pure Lemon Oil. Which I am hoping doesn't go off - I bought it in NZ in November last year and discovered once I returned to the UK that it's best before date was May 2009. Obviously not a big mover on the Dunedin shelves.

And a lot of zest... two tablespoons or 12 grams to be exact. My scales are weird and do not know how to measure the zest as it snows into the bowl. I probably should grate elsewhere and weigh the finished amount into the mixing bowl. But I don't have a dishwasher and that outweighs my desire to be super accurate with the lemon zest.

Anyways, you can see that I estimated the 12 grams of zest to be four big lemons and this made the bowl very yellow...

Another slight adjustment I made, was to mix 50:50 golden caster sugar with demerara sugar to come to an approximation of turbinado sugar. I am not quite convinced about using such a chunky sugar in a relatively fine crumbed cake...

Be sure to grease your bundt pan very very very well, otherwise you will be swearing when you extricate cake from pan. Trust me. I know. But given that you do this maneuver whilst the cake is still warm, there is a small window of opportunity for you to bodge the cake back together with the super glue that is the lemon syrup.

Looking at the cake now, you would barely know that it is a carefully reassembled jigsaw puzzle. Let me tell you, I think I got more satisfaction out of piecing the cake back together than I would have assuming it came out perfectly. I think I may be a "rescuer".

We cut this cake about four hours after I completed it and you could definitely taste where the syrup was and wasn't. Now two days later, it is perfectly distributed in the cake and rather nice. I much prefer the texture, flavour and colour (not to mention lack of faff factor) of commercially ground almonds to the home corrupted version. I will surely be shot by someone for that admission. The colour is sort of not golden and more kind of brown flecked. It would be more golden with almond meal instead of the brown almond pebbles I used.

I think I will definitely make this cake again, although it does make me want to buy a lot of gorgeous Nordicware. Ahh, the benefits of generating an income of one's own! After new scales, a beater blade I will pencil in nordicware bundt pan(s).

Double Chocolate Cake

2010-02-16T11:38:00.000Z

So, I may have cheated a little bit in making this cake. First off, I watched Rose's video with Dede Wilson. I praise Rose's patience in having Dede as her helper! I don't think I would be nearly so calm and collected with someone assertively helping me... yes, I know it is TV and it isn't real, but still. So help me, I wanted to slap Dede's hand. And then I never got around to making it in time for the big VD day. Not sure what I was too busy doing, other than procrastinating. By the time Monday morning rolled around, the usual suspects had posted, so I may have done a little ~~spying~~ search for inspiration. Thanks to Mendy's first attempt, I made doubly sure that the cocoa and water weighed the full amount before mixing. I also opted out of cupcakes and for the standard 9 inch round.

I can truthfully say that this is the first time ever that a two step method cake has actually worked for me. Previously I ended up with depressed circles of rubberised meh masquerading as cake. I may actually be converted to this 2 step method. So quick and easy. The only issue I had was the final mix in of egg resulted in the batter separating a little. See how it is a little grainy? I read somewhere (TCB maybe) that this doesn't impact on the final cake taste... wiser palates may know better.

This cake domed a little in the middle as it baked, but then settled to pretty much flat after cooling. As I stabbed the top with holes I noticed that it looked a little dry and a bit delicate. Perhaps it could have done with about two fewer minutes in the oven? At any rate, it smelled amazing.

Once the top was stabbed, I brushed over the thin ganache. My only tip here is that the ganache should be relatively warm and that you shouldn't be too eager in your application - it is cake after all and not concrete. I may have been a bit eager, but as a veteran HCB'er, I have learned how to cover my tracks.

At this stage I was racing the clock. I had a telephone interview for a job at 2.00pm and I think I took this photo at about 1.50pm. Fortunately there was no video link in, so a couple of smears of chocolate on my face were fine! I didn't use this cake as an example of my ability to work to deadline and multitask - somehow I didn't think it that appropriate.

And this photo was at 1.57pm just as I was perusing my preparatory notes and trying not be distracted by how amazing this cake smells. No cracks. It held together and sucked up that ganache without any issue. In fact, I think I probably could have got another four tablespoons at least into that cake.

The interview went well and it would appear that I am more than likely to be re-entering the workforce. A little bit exciting really! I am now in a frantic search to find a nanny for the Little Assistant. So my days of spending hours at the park, playing with my little boy, and reading loads of blogs are very numbered.

As amazing as all those fresh raspberries looked atop the many versions of this cake, I opted for a raspberry mascarpone topping with a raspberry drizzle/splodge. And it worked. I think this cake definitely needs some creamy topping/side. This cake was a little strange. It was quite dry to cut and I expected it to be quite dry in the mouth also, but the plugs of ganache lend it a subtle fudginess, that offsets that dryness. The chocolate flavour is really balanced and it is not overwhelmingly rich (you can definitely eat more than one slice per sitting and not feel like throwing up). As with most of Rose's cakes, the sweetness is just right, and would have been even more "right" with the tartness of the fresh raspberries. This is not a moist wet chocolate cake, but I think that its fudginess (how do you spell that made up word - with an i or with a y?) and chocolate flavour make it a chocolate cake that I will frequent more than those moist, cloyingly rich versions.

Next week is free bake week, I am going to attempt the German Chocolate Cake or maybe the tiramisu or maybe the... you get the drift. I may be a little undecided at this stage and with no real chance to spy and prepare prior next weeks post. Also, I have a second interview on Monday in the City, where I have to get properly dressed and talk about things other than cake and my little assistant and give them reason to throw wads of cash at me. So I will have to be organised and post on Sunday night. Maybe, just maybe beating Raymond out of pole position. I will keep baking and posting regardless of my employment status!

True Orange Genoise

2010-02-09T22:20:00.000Z

Am I the only one who feels as though they have been baking this cake for a month? I managed to juice my Seville oranges about four weeks ago. It was amazing waking up and finding another one had bit the green dust. Some time over the last few weeks, my brain has processed that oranges that mould overnight are probably normal. Oranges that stay in the fruit bowl for four weeks without turning to green dust are surely a little bit wrong?

This cake had a few steps.

Seville Orange Curd - in summary, eggs, butter, sugar and seville orange juice stirred and stirred and stirred and stirred. Really a test of patience, attention and mettle. As I stirred away, my internal dialogue was "is it ready yet? how about now? what about now? just a little longer?" ad infinitum. This is why I should cook with music instead of the voices in my head. The curd was tart, with a great balance of sweetness. I am not sure about the zest added into the finished curd. Yes, it adds flavour, but it also adds texture.

Orange Chocolate Ganache - Chocolate ganache with some orange liqueur for a bit more orange zing. I used Cointreau, because that is what I was able to sponge off a friend (not literally, she gave it to me in a bottle). Rose's method for ganache is great - whiz chocolate in a food processor and add scalded cream. Easy.

Seville Orange Syrup - used to moisten the genoise. This was made with the seville orange juice, sugar and more of the Cointreau.

The beurre noisette

Finally, the genoise. Ah, the genoise. That "ah" is not an "ah" of pleasure or even of satisfaction. That is an "ah" akin to "meet my latest nemesis". I warmed my eggs and sugar. But answer me this. In this cake, the eggs are to be warmed to lukewarm. In the Torta de las tres leches, the eggs are heated until quite warm to the touch. What is the difference in temperature? I heated the eggs until they were warm, my guess is just above body temperature - say about 40 degrees Celsius. And then the eggs are beaten until they quadruple in volume. I think that happened - forgot to take a photo of the before! Then fold in the Wondra (which pretty much instantly disappears like a magic trick). Then in with the browned butter (incidentally, I would probably skip this step next time, because I couldn't taste it over all that orange).

Once in the tin, Rose says that it should come to about an inch from the top of a 2 inch pan. Mine actually sat a bit higher than that, and I was feeling a little full of myself imagining the astounding height that would result at the end of 20 minutes... I think there is a saying that pride goes before a fall. How apt. My cake may not have fallen, but it sure didn't rise to meet all that pride. An inch and a half. Far off Rose's two inches. I wonder if my oven was too hot, because I beat those eggs for about seven minutes, rather than "at least five" of Rose's instruction. And looking at these photos, I think I definitely overcooked it by about 2 minutes. The pan below is after I have loosened the sides.

I was so stoic in my defeated pride and deflated cake, that I was not moved to make another. Unlike the more plucky of our group. I gritted my teeth, chiseled the top off, sliced it in half(ish) and proceeded to compose the cake. I love that expression - it sounds so lovely, especially in a very proper English accent. And compose the cake I did. My only recommendation is to take charge. I didn't have a problem, but I presume this was because my cake was rather sturdy. I suspect if you have a lighter than air genoise, doused in all that syrup, it could become very particular about the angle of your mouth and the colour of your underwear as you try to reassemble it all.

I won't talk about the ganache application because, frankly, my embarrassing technique was indicative of the time of night that I finally finished. It was all a bit slap dash given the ganache had firmed up a bit too much and I was totally over the whole "compose the cake" thing - english accent and all. But looking at the photo below, it doesn't look too bad at all. Nice and thin. Hmm, quite impressed with myself actually! Lets not talk about the uneven layers shall we...

The following evening, with much anticipation, I sliced and served the cake to my husband and a visiting house guest. My husband declared it as not great. The house guest ate two slices and loved it, but he never gets home made cake, ever. I agreed with my husband. The dark chocolate ganache really clashed with the liqueur soaked genoise. I think that my ganache was too bitter for the tartness of the orange. Or is there too much alcohol in the ganache?

I am still eating this cake (as usual) three days later, and the raw alcohol taste has mellowed, and it doesn't clash as much with the ganache... but still jarring enough for me to eat this cake from the bottom up rather than top down. Maybe my palate isn't sophisticated enough? I really liked the genoise with the orange curd, but I will be looking for another icing if I make it again. Perhaps an seville orange swiss meringue buttercream (oh shoot me now for even mentioning that). Ganache may not be the perfect match, but it is very very very easy.

Next weeks cake is a raspberry topped chocolate extravaganza. I haven't decided if I am going to shell out £10 on fresh-from-the-airplane raspberries, or just convert it to cupcakes and dress them with Valentines Day landfill (aka junk). I am thinking the latter, and maybe even without the junk.

Individual Pineapple Upside Down Cakes

2010-02-01T19:19:00.000Z

I grew up in Australia. Land of the big. Weekend drives to "big" destinations, featured heavily in my youth. My Dad loved nothing better than to pile my sister and I into the back of our panel van and drive long distances with my Mum. Our panel van, was pretty much like the one below, except it had orange net curtains, definitely no seatbelts or child booster seats. Just a mattress, loads of cushions and blankets, toys and of course the ubiquitous esky, because this was also the time when you could still drink (one or two beers, I am sure) whilst driving. I think I was six or so, and my sister three. Surprisingly, we survived, relatively unscathed!

I remember being so ridiculously excited going to the Big Pineapple because it would then be followed by a trip to the Big Cow! I mean, really, how much better could life get! But it did get sooo much better, because sometimes, if I didn't fight with my sister too much during the drive, we might get to share an ice cream sundae that came in the cut half of a pineapple. Actually, now that I recall, I don't think we ever did get that sundae - maybe because we fought incessantly. Or maybe a trip on the little train through the pineapple plantation to the baby farm yard. Or better yet, a jumbo sized Big Pineapple pencil. I tell you, growing up in the late 70's early 80's in Queensland was something else. Sure, you couldn't march on the streets, nor was there freedom of speech, and the state premier was an avid support of apartheid and oversaw a corrupt government. But what did all that matter, when you could visit big things? Bliss, I tell you, bliss.

I relived all those memories whilst making this weeks cake. I had an epiphany about why my Dad so loved those weekend drives... could it have had something to do with the peace that comes from two sleeping girls as the miles unfurl beneath the car?

I had such high hopes for this cake, because I managed to secure a packet of Swans Down cake flour from a US inspired bakery, right where I used to live - The Outsider Tart. I was imagining how light and fluffy that cake layer would be under the golden halo of pineapple. Bah. Ha. Ha. Ha. The folly.

A poor workman blames his tools, and so too, I had always thought it was the UK flour that lead to my leaden cakes. Ahem. Apparently it might have something to do with me. Surprising? Not really. This is one of those two step method cakes... with a few added extra steps. First, slice up your fresh pineapple - was I the only one who thought this instruction was weird? 6-8 slices of pineapple - cut 3 slices by under 1/4 inch thick. I couldn't work out why I would need 3 slices cut to specification, and then 3 slices cut however. I elected to cut all six slices to the same 1/4 inch thickness.

Pineapple in winter is quite surreal - so much like summer. What about the carbon footprint of that little pineapple? I figured the carbon footpoint would be the same no matter which season I made this cake... afterall, last time I checked, pineapple wasn't exactly growing in seasonal abundance in the UK. Actually, there is no "season" for pineapples, more like a pregnancy, it happens a certain duration after planting. That detail aside, still no pineapples in the UK.

The additional steps were all about caramel. Swoon. The caramel that is made to go in the bottom of the pan is amazing. Just the tiniest hint of pineapple, turbinado sugar (I used demerara), and butter, all brought up to 150 degrees c.

This caramel then gets divided between each of the cake pans. I used texas muffin pans which seemed a good size to me. Let me tell you, that caramel was good enough to wrap in wax paper and save for later or eat immediately. Instead, I daydreamed about how great it would taste on the top of my finished cakes. Instant gratification delayed...

Next additional step was to lay in the pineapple and cherry. Not exactly brain surgery, but the pineapple did need to be cut to size. And looking at the less than perfect cutting, lets be grateful that it wasn't brain surgery.

On to the infamous two step mixing method. This means that you beat the butter and some of the yogurt into the dry ingredients. This effectively coats the flour and prevents the forming of gluten in the later beating. The wet ingredients are then added in two batches. The resulting, quite thick batter is spooned onto the pineapple and cherry and off to be baked.

I undertook some amateur electrics during my cake mixing... my second hand Kenwood mixer has the original, well worn plug. When I switched it to on, nothing happened. Rinse, repeat. Out with the screwdriver and I discovered that one of the wires had worked loose, so I screwed it back into position. Except, in the UK we work with 240V and have three points on our plugs. One of those points goes to earth. And the eagle eyed electricians amongst you will spot that I wired the electrical current to the earth point. I managed to trip the power to the house not once, but three times, before I figured that I might need to check on my electrical prowess! I know, isn't it amazing that I am still here typing this never ending post. And yes, that is a corkscrew on the operating table... I trimmed the wire with it. Resourceful, if not inept.

The cake mix looked okay to me. Thick, vanilla-ey. I was imagining a golden open crumb, laced with caramel. Hmmm.

I think my disappointment started to build once I tipped them out of their pan. Where had my gorgeous caramel gone? Why didn't I wrap those caramels in waxed paper instead of losing them into the ether? Plus, the pineapple had shrunk and the rim of cake around the outside was not appealing to my aesthetic.

I had no apricot jam, and no inspiration for an alternative solution, so my cakes remained deeply unglazed and unglossy. So completely not like the picture in Rose's book. I made the pineapple caramel sauce to serve these with these cakes. I found the instruction a bit weird. The first bit was fine. Bring all the sugar and a portion of the pineapple juice to 150 degrees c. Fine. Then add in the remaining hot pineapple juice. Fine. Then boil for 5-10 minutes until the caramel reaches 60 degrees c. Um, not fine. This did not compute with me. The boiling point of this caramel was far above 60 degrees c. So I ignored that point and just boiled it until it was reduced enough. Not sure if anyone else had a different interpretation?

Boy, this is a marathon post. Apologies, I am nearly finished. I took these cakes along to a friend's place, and whilst they all said they liked the cake, I was disappointed. I couldn't taste the caramel, the crumb was dense and the pineapple caramel sauce was just too sweet for my tongue. All in all, I was a bit bored by this cake. Maybe I had built it up too much whilst I was delaying my caramel gratification?

Fortunately, the other upside down things in my life were far more exciting, definitely not dense and perfectly sweet. Who needs cake?

Until next week's perfect orange genoise, or "how to make butt clenchingly sour seville orange juice taste great (hopefully!)".

Chocolate Tweed Angel Food (cup)Cake(s)

2010-01-25T12:50:00.000Z

I had decided not to make this cake, after all, I didn't have an angel food cake pan, and angel food cake is akin to fairy floss. Sweet nothingness. And after reaching the caked out ~~heights~~ depths of last week, I thought I could do with some actual nothingness, rather than sweet nothingness.

But then Jenn mentioned in my comments that she was going to make it as cupcakes. I was still undecided, but my devotion to actual nothingness was eroding. My husband sounded a bit bereft when I told him that there would be no cake this weekend. More erosion. And then Marie's comment on Last Cake, Next Cake eroded my decision even more. An ominous "bad things can happen", how could I skip out on danger cake? And then I googled Angel Food Cup Cake recipe and hit on no less than 119,000 results. Clearly lack of Angel Food pan was not a legitimate excuse to miss making this cake. So actual nothingness gave way to sweet nothingness.

Plus, I needed to clean out the freezer. Sixteen egg whites in five containers does take up a surprising amount of room. And, yes, I do have freezer shame - how could I not?

The making of the cake was pretty therapeutic, especially because I didn't have the stress of separating 16 egg whites from their yolks. Yes, that is correct, 16 eggwhites - or 480 grams of eggwhites. Except on defrosting all those dinky containers, I discovered only 397 grams of eggwhites, so modified the recipe accordingly. Silent prayers of thanks to Rose for always providing metric measurements and also unrivaled joy in using Excel to work out the new ratios. I so miss my 12 hour days in Excel spreadsheeting land. My little assistant has very little requirement for a good spreadsheet!

Those eggwhites (13.23 if you must know) whipped up right to the top of my beater attachment, so I had no idea if they were stiff, soft or otherwise. I did the upside down trick - I think you are meant to do this with the bowl, but a spatula sufficed.

There was one bizarre instruction. Rose had me sifting superfine sugar (I always use golden caster sugar) to beat into the meringue. Then weirdly the Wondra flour (specially imported by a friend returning from the US), salt and remaining sugar is not sifted, unless I missed that instruction. Not sifted, just dusted in a quarter cup at a time, which was really quite pretty...

Beware the grating of cold chocolate - they are like fleas on a dog and those little flakes jump everywhere. I used a 90% Lindt Cacao Chocolate because that was what I had in the cupboard.

The chocolate fines are then folded into the mixture. I was surprised at how easily the dry ingredients folded evenly through the meringue without losing too much volume, my guess is that the cream of tartar helps maintain a bit of robustness. And, of course, also my delicate folding method, ha! Can you tell I am dreaming of warmer climes with rolling surf, rather than the grey leaden skies of London?

These little cupcakes baked amazingly fast - less than fifteen minutes. I opted to use the muffin case rather than the tiny cupcake cases I had for the overflowing streusel cupcakes... Here is the difference in size.

In the end they baked up really well, like tiny little souffle's. And I love how the cake pulled the sides of the case in to almost vertical. Very neat and tidy. Ahem, no, I didn't smooth the tops. I kind of like the topsy turvy look...

I tipped some of my cupcakes upside down to cool, but I think this was a mad irrelevant step which didn't impact on the finished height. What did impact on the finished height was baking one tray of cupcakes at a time. Which I discovered on my last tray. They need a pretty even temperature to rise fully.

The whipped cream topping was easy to make. Lightly whipped cream with a smidge of sugar and vanilla. Into which you then fold a touch of ground almonds and quite a bit of grated chocolate. The finished effect is that the colour of the cake exactly matches the colour of the topping. Don't underestimate how amazing that is. To bite into something that looks like it should all taste the same, but doesn't. Quite incredible. That was a bit of a taste sensation, but then maybe I am a bit weird.

13.23 eggwhites made up 32 muffin sized cupcakes. Thankfully, my husband took two dozen to work today. There is absolutely no way that I could be trusted around these divine little cakes. The ratio of cream to cake was perfect. These are definitely not sweet nothingness'. The actual cake is light and delicate, but the finely grated chocolate delivers depth and substance to the taste. That fine chocolate just instantly dissolves in your mouth, and the contrasting subtle graininess of the whipped cream is really something. An absolute perfect match. So, thank you to Jenn for gently encouraging me to bake these little gems. Better still, I didn't have to mess with fundamental laws of physics involved in Angel Food Pans.

Torta de las Tres Leches

2010-01-20T18:51:00.000Z

Here it is ~~Tuesday~~ Wednesday, ~~nearly~~ exactly a week after I made this Torta de las Tres Leches and I am still struggling with my post! I think I am a bit caked out. Also, I watched an interview of Bob Geldof talking about the African famines and, well, all my baking seems to be so very indulgent and so excessive. Starving children in Africa and all. Sigh. Must remember to not watch anything about the real world and stick to kids TV and rom-coms.

On to brighter, fluffier (if slightly soggy) things.

The cake of the three milks - truly, a bizarre cake. Take a six egg sponge and soak in nearly five cups of milk, cream and condensed milk. Refrigerate eight hours and then top with more whipped cream, because you can never have enough dairy right?

This cake was simple to make. The warming of the eggs and sugar is truly inspired and creates such lightness in the final cake. Loads of airy bubbles for all that milky syrup to ooze through. The syrup consisted of reduced skim milk and full fat milk with a touch of sugar, cream and condensed milk. That syrup had alot of questions amongst HCB. Why not just use evaporated milk? Personally, I much preferred the homemade evaporated milk to the canned stuff. I find the canned evap milk a bit starchy and more sweet.

I have read most of the HCB posts on this cake, and I am amazed at how differently everyone's cakes turned out. My cake was pretty much dead flat - no dome in the middle, no crack on the top. Some HCB'ers were the same, others were as per Rose, some had a dip in the middle.

I scraped the top back and then poured on all that syrup, I did wonder how well the cake would retain the syrup and how much would end up pooled in the bottom of my fridge...

I am happy to report that the majority of the syrup stayed within the confines of the sponge. Yes, some oozed out, but not enough to require me to scrub congealed, hardened sticky condensed milk from the fridge floor. Also, in my indepth research, I discovered that this cake, once soaked is incredibly robust. The Tupperware cake container flipped out of the fridge and landed upside down. The cake was completely undamaged. Seriously, you need to get one of those cake containers, they are impervious to husband's tread and suicidal flips from the fridge.

The cake was probably further protected by the overwhipped cream gracing the top. English cream is weird. I beat this cream to what I thought looked like perfection in the bowl. Nice firm peaks, but in the time from removing the beaters to spreading it on the cake, it seems to become bit too much like butter! Forgive the detritus from dinner - it was our last meal with our fabulous neighbours who were moving back to Australia. Sob! My poor little (32 inches x 6ft - not including counter space obviously) kitchen works very hard when we entertain.

And in the shot below, you can see just how overwhipped that cream is. The lesson learned this week is to underbeat (to my eye anyway) the cream and it will be fine once it makes it to the cake. I am very envious of the gorgeously tricked out cakes that have made their way through this week's HCB line up. Some very starry piping and even caramel panna cotta.

I think I like this cake. Even with the buttery whipped cream on top. I can imagine eating this, straight from the fridge on a hot (but not humid) day. There is something icecreamy and akin to trifle about this cake. I love Vicki's idea of adding alcohol and even cardamon and turning it into a trifle. I love trifle, which means that I do actually like soggy sponge, even if I gag at the thought of soggy tomato sandwiches. So, my trepidation from last week was unduly founded.

Happy Birthday Mr Hanaa - with a cake as fabulous as the one your wife made, I can only imagine you had a great day.

I am sitting out next week, plenty of egg whites but no Angel food pan in this house! Look forward to reading all about it though.

Chocolate Streusel Cake

2010-01-11T14:18:00.000Z

Each week, as I type up my post, I eat cake and drink tea and ponder. Idyllic, no? And why, yes, I am a very skilled multi-tasker - thanks for noticing. Sometimes it takes me one slice, sometimes two. Today I am on my second Chocolate Streusel cupcake and still only on the first paragraph. Does this mean that this cake is unbelievable? Hmm, I'm not sure about that. What I am sure about is the following.

I miss my camera so much.
I wish I put more streusel in my chocolate streusel cupcakes.
I should have made 18 perfectly sized cupcakes rather than 12 overflowing cupcakes.
I wish I didn't also have a banana refrigerator cake sitting on the bench, in direct competition to these cupcakes.
I wish I didn't like cake quite so much and exercise quite so little.
And about fifty other things I am not sure of.

I got the quote back to fix my camera lens - it will cost £9 more to buy a brand new one. So, looks like I will be getting a brand new lens, which will hopefully arrive this week. I am sure it would be much better for the British economy to repair it but somehow a bright shiny new one direct from Honkers sounds so much more appealing. Something about that 12 month warranty is sooo worth the extra £9!

This weeks recipe called for a six cup bundt + two cupcakes. Not having a six cup bundt to hand, I took the option of increasing two cupcakes to twelve cupcakes. I am not sure if English cupcakes are smaller than US cupcakes, but this mix definitely could have made at least 16 cupcakes and perhaps even 18. As I type that, I marvel at my own dogged adherence to the recipe. Actually, maybe it was less dogged adherence and more laziness about getting out the other cupcake pan... As you can see these cupcakes overflowed alot, yet they finished off quite flat. The crumb was fine - not spectacular, but pretty good, and as Mendy's little ones said, they smile at you! Who can resist a smiling cake?

Based on Rose's post about her ~~success~~ great mistake in using unbleached flour in a bundt pan, I decided to use unbleached flour in my cupcakes. Am I mad? A bundt pan is clearly not a cupcake liner. But whilst reading Rose's post, one of the few remaining synapses in my brain fired, and I recalled making about 120 cupcakes from Rose's TCB white velvet buttercake recipe with unbleached flour and they were soft and gorgeous and perfect. So, I reasoned, small pan size + ambivalence to bleachedness of flour = success.

The method of this recipe is just like my maternal grandmother taught me - cream butter and sugar, beat in eggs, add dry and wet in batches, spoon into pan and bake, cool and place in a cake tin right at the back of the cupboard, far from the greedy boys (isn't that a metaphor for life!!). My paternal grandmother taught me to open a packet and put them on a nice plate!

I was a bit too timid with my streusel filling. A teaspoon *seemed* like such a lot in those teeny tiny cupcakes, so I had a fair bit left over, which unlike other wise HCB's, I threw in the bin. Those cupcakes sure could do with a bit more streusel filling. When and if you come to make them, make sure you use all of that teaspoon of filling - don't be shy! I really liked the contrast of the not too sweet chocolate cinnamony whisper against the soft vanilla crumb. It elevated this from just plain cake, but not into the same league as the Whipped Cream Cake.

Unfairly, these cupcakes had to compete with Rose's Banana Refrigerator Cake. I know! Two cakes in one week and only one cake eating person in the house. See point five above. The banana cake outshines the chocolate streusel cupcakes in the taste stakes, and given that both were equally easy to make, the banana cake wins. I don't plan on having a Rose HCB cake off every week, it was just that I didn't want to throw the black bananas to the bin. Let me assure you, it will be no hardship to make this banana cake again when it comes up on rotation or the next time I have black bananas...

Next week, Torta de las Tres Leches for Hanaa's husband. I am trying to keep an open mind about a cake soaked in nearly five cups of full cream and skim milk, cream and condensed milk. I just keep thinking of those soggy tomato sandwiches from my school lunch box. Gag. I am sure it will be grand, maybe not so much for the lactose intolerant!

Whipped Cream Cake

2010-01-03T21:03:00.000Z

I made (I promise not to use the phrase "whipped up" in this post!) this cake on New Years Eve to take to our New Year's Eve destination. I would like to say that since the arrival of my wee assistant, New Years Eve has become exceedingly tame. But that would be a lie. This year we spent New Years Eve drinking Dom and eating fabulous food all whilst in our slippers. Just like we did four years ago - well before the little assistant came onto the scene. There is alot to be said for the comfort of your slippers on a frosty New Years Eve... and a glass of champagne!

I also made this cake again today. This is the first time, I think ever, that I have made the same cake twice for two separate eating occasions just days apart. Sure, today, it had an audience of one, since my husband is now sadly in Australia for his Grandmother's funeral. I pretended to myself that I just wanted to test out Kate Flour with the Xanthan gum added in, but really? I just wanted to eat more of this cake. So good.

Tasty in a not too sweet, dense but light and fine crumb, deeply vanilla way - comfort itself. Easy - whip cream, slowly beat in the eggs and then the sugar and finally fold in the flour. You definitely don't need a stand mixer. I made it with a hand held beater both times. Quick - it bakes in about 35 minutes. End to end, dishes done, less than an hour. It needs no icing, just a cup of tea, a knife and some serious will power.

The first time I made it with the US bleached flour and today's cake I baked with Kate Flour. I was equally happy with both versions. The Kate Flour version had a slightly more dense crumb and it probably didn't rise quite so much, but nothing that detracted from the glorious simplicity of this cake.

My photos are few and not so great since my camera lens has weirdly gone off track. So the photos are from our video camera. The massive divot in the cake was delivered by the foot of my husband. I had left the cake in its Tupperware container on the stairs so I wouldn't forget it and my husband trod on it - lightly...

This cake is also a test of how evenly your oven heats - my cakes were browner on one side, so I should probably turn the cake at more regular intervals.

I will definitely be adding this cake to my quick, easy and spectacular list. Although, for the sake of my girth, I shan't be baking it again this week! Not unless temptation gets the better of me and I buy the Heritage Bundt pan a la Raymond. Swoon. And maybe I need to test the recipe with just normal old UK plain flour...

Holiday PineCone Cake - it may be a holiday but it sure ain't no pine cone

2009-12-28T00:16:00.000Z

I didn't realise when I joined the Heavenly Cake Baker's that I would laugh so much at myself. This cake, whilst it may not have resulted in flames or deep navel gazing or volcanic eruptions, it has dashed any fantasy I may have had about becoming a sculptor and it has made me laugh alot.

Like alot of tourists, I have traipsed past loads of old stuff. Churches, museums, ruins, palaces, paintings, sculpture, mosaics - you know how it goes. It gets to the point, where I just can't look at one more human made thing with anything other than overwhelm. Except for sculpture. That always amazes me. That someone was able to take a solid hunk and make it come to life - incredible. If, for some reason, I awoke one morning to suddenly discover that I was "artistic", then I would be definitely become a sculptor.

Most assuredly, on Christmas morning, I did not wake up to discover that I was artistic. This cake is evidence of that. Every time I look at this photo, I laugh. Hilarious. Every time I walk past the cake I laugh. Every time I even think about this cake, I smirk and then laugh. I may be nearly as cracked in the head as this fondant. Curses to the English and their derision of trans fats (which Rose points out are kind of necessary to get the elasticity in the fondant).

I made this cake over three days. Which sounds alot, but it really isn't. On the 23 I made the fondant. Easy. Melt stuff and then mix it into the icing sugar and cocoa and knead until soft, smooth and supple. Hmm.

It mixed together okay. I substituted golden syrup for the corn syrup and I used a solid vegetable fat instead of the Spectrum. The glycerin, which I bought in the pharmacy section of the supermarket, was thankfully not in suppository form a la Mendy's comment. Apparently glycerin can be used for dry chafed skin or a dry throat - who knew! Now I do. And now you do too.

Anyway, I kneaded and kneaded that fondant. It seemed a bit dry to me, so I added more water. And then some more water and then even more water. After considerable time, I decided it was enough mainly because I was over the kneading. It definitely didn't look like bought fondant - not supple and not really soft.

Christmas Eve I made the ganache - again easy. Whizz up the prerequisite toasted almonds, grind up the chocolate, add scalded cream and then stir in said almonds and cognac. Maybe a fifteen minute job. It made about four cups of ganache - I ended up freezing my leftovers of about two cups.

The roulade I made on Christmas morning, before I baked the turkey. It was easy enough too - a sponge, so lots of beating etc before placing in a half sheet pan (17 1/4 inches x 12 1/4 inches). Which I am glad I didn't buy since my oven only measures 16 inches internally and I don't really have room for any more redundant kitchen equipment. So my roulade was a bit smaller than Rose's roulade. Also, my roulade had *nice* little white lumps through it, which is where the flour didn't dissolve. I am not sure why Rose instructs us to dust the surface with icing sugar before rolling up. The icing sugar had completely disappeared when I unrolled it to assemble the cake.

I did the assembly of this cake on Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) to take to a dinner with friends. After the roulade is unrolled and spread with the ganache, it is rerolled and then you start to sculpt. Which isn't that technical really. You just simply cut off the side bits on an angle and reposition them at the bottom of the cake/pine cone. Except when I did that, the cake looked like a rocket. A chocolate, flour flecked, rocket. I think I started laughing about then. After laughing at your cake, you coat your ~~rocket~~ pine cone in chocolate ganache and then apply the fondant - rolled to 1/8 inch thickness.

Except my fondant was rubbish. It was not 1/8 of an inch. It was not soft, smooth or supple. It was hard, dry and crumbly. I was able to roll it out and coax it onto the cut cake, but any attempt at smoothing the sides or joining seams was impossible. And I laughed even harder.

I searched high and low for a stanley knife, but they appear to have been confiscated, so I just used a carving knife to form the pine cone petals. It appears I will never be a sculptor nor a surgeon.

Look at the dryness. Look at the cracks. Look at those pine cone *petals* - more like the teeth of a great white shark. Row upon row of serrated teeth. But really, it just looked a bit like a weird brown Christmas tree. One that had been left until well into the New Year. Without water. And with no decorations. Hilarious.

How did it taste, you may ask? Too much chocolate for me. And the texture contrasts weren't so great either - since you are asking. Not sure if that was because my fondant was more like leather. Even after I picked off the fondant, the roulade with the ganache didn't rock my boat. The roulade is such a light sponge, it seemed overwhelmed by the heaviness of the ganache. Come to think of it, it tastes more like a truffle than a cake, and truffles should bite sized, not eaten with a cake fork. Maybe that is the secret to enjoying this cake? I served small half slices for the tasters, and even though they said it was nice, no one asked for a second sliver. Nothing speaks louder than no second helpings!

I won't be making this Pine Cone again - holiday or not. And to be honest, I don't think I will even be eating another slice of it. Afterall, I still have to eat my way through the second fruitcake (now more moist and rummy, but strangely, the fruit seems less pronounced - I preferred it fresh).

Wishing you all a happy, cake filled New Year.

English Gingerbread Cake

2009-12-20T14:38:00.000Z

As I was preparing this cake for the oven, I did ponder Marie's casual remark that she had selected two easy cakes for us in the lead up to her (and now my) nemesis: the chocolate pine cone. I reflected on the 2007 Rugby World Cup, which was played in France. I am a New Zealander and if you didn't already know, New Zealander's (or Kiwi's) have a evangelical love/pride/obsession for their rugby union team. So much so, that my grandfather, a farmer aged 76, whose previous overseas travel had taken him to Australia, travelled the 31 hours with my aunt and uncle to Europe to watch the All Black's rightfully seize the Rugby World Cup. The All Black's were in great form and almost certain to win. My family had only bought tickets for the semi finals and finals. You know where this is heading, don't you? The All Black's lost in the quarter final against the host nation. Devastation and disaster and tears from many many men. My Uncle's theory was that the All Black's hadn't been stretched in the lead up games and instead of playing the current game, they were focused on playing the Grand Final.

I admit to not being a true Kiwi, one who watches every single All Black game. Actually, I don't think I have watched one game since that 2007 World Cup quarter final loss. And I only watched that one because my grandfather, aunt and uncle were with us in Scotland. This admission is kind of like saying that you have never loved your parents or your children: strictly taboo.

Anyway, like the 2007 All Blacks, I may have been focused on the Grand Final Chocolate Pine Cone rather than the English Gingerbread, when I *whipped* this cake up. And last week's carrot cake did little to stretch my cake baking form. I did display some dedication to the task at hand. I made Kate Flour, except without the Xanthan Gum and without the cornflour. It was such an easy cake. Melt the butter, golden syrup (alot), sugar and marmalade, and allow to cool. Whisk in eggs and milk. Then mix the wet into the dry ingredients. Job done.

Except it wasn't. Because my mix, although soup like, was a bit too lumpy for my liking. So I dug through it with my hands to break up the flour lumps. Calling it good enough and praying to Rose that the remaining lumps would sort themselves out during the baking, I put it into the oven.

When I opened the oven 10 minutes from full time, I realised that maybe this was like the All Black quarterfinal against France. Doomed. What did that mean for the Chocolate Pine Cone? I am pleased to say that I didn't cry - I am reserving that right for next week. However, I did swear. Alot. Who knows what went wrong (www). My pan was 9 inches round and 2 inches high. Maybe I added the wrong amount of baking powder? But then it doesn't taste soapy. Oh well. I am pretty sure I will be the only baker with a three tiered gingerbread cake and the only one with such a grotty oven.

So, I persevered and let the cake cook through. I dressed it with its lemon syrup, wrapped it in plastic and put it to rest. The middle sunk. The edges where it overflowed the pan were as crisp as a brandy snap. I sliced it 24 hours later and it was stodgy. None of Rose's light crumb for me. Just heavy cake. And not that gingery either. Spicy yes, gingery, um, not so much.

Now 48 hours later, the flavour of the ginger is peeking through a little more with the tang of lemon much mellowed. And I am now eating it the way my grandmother would have served it, slathered with salted butter. And it isn't too bad. The gingerbread cakes of my memory were more loaves, with a very fine yet dense crumb, that desperately needed the butter to aid digestion. I think I need to add the cornflour and the xanthan gum to make the proper Kate Flour to get the Rose lightness. I also made the mini vanilla bean pound cakes and they were tough - not at all tender. The flour definitely needs more work to make it less work to chew.

On the other hand, I may just admit defeat and buy the stupid bleached flour. Afterall, £10.59 or $17.00 USD isn't too much to pay for two bags of flour delivered? Apparently bleached flour makes you hysterical if you eat it, but quite frankly, I will be hysterical if I don't get a non stodgy cake soon!

This does not bode well for the Holiday Pinecone. I am thinking that chocolate roulade would not go so well with a healthy swipe of butter? I have all the ingredients, bar the right flour and the corn syrup - I am hoping that golden syrup can be substituted as per usual. On the plus side, they stock the chocolate fondant in the 24 supermarket, so all is not lost if the fondant is rubbish. That said, if my roulade is more heavy than light, I won't waste my time dressing the concrete log - it will be straight into the bin and I will be straight into the wine and onto the computer to bake vicariously through the more talented and brave.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holiday Pine Cones to everyone.

Classic Carrot Cake

2009-12-13T13:27:00.000Z

I remember my little sister coming home from pre-school telling us that they had made Carrot Cake that day. I was horrified. I thought it akin to mud pies. Who would eat a cake made from carrots - disgusting! Surely she meant banana cake? I was a very worldly (!) six years old and far more knowledgeable on flavours of cake than my little sister - they came in white or brown or banana or fruit, most definitely not carrot! I recall that I may have told her as such and maybe made her cry.

I am glad to say that my cake world has expanded exponentially and I am far more open to flavour. I have now made cakes with carrot, potato, beetroot, pumpkin, zucchini - enough to explode the mind of many a six year old. Though most three year old's I know drink baby capuccino's while nibbling at their croissants; the six year old's are probably doing the Times crossword online, eating foie gras on toasted brioche and drinking freshly squeezed guava and pomegranate juice. The world is indeed a different place!

Anyway, on to the classic carrot cake. Oh boy, this is totally NOT disgusting, it is the furthest thing from mud pies. It is quite frankly, superb. There, I said it up front, usually I dally about with method and what not before getting to the punch line of how it actually tastes. But you know what? You need to know right now that this is a great, all round, easy to make, great tasting carrot cake.

It is very easy to make - you could definitely make it with just a box grater, a mixing bowl and a wooden spoon. You don't need a mixer or a food processor - not for the cake at any rate. Like most carrot cakes, it is oil based so no need to beat the living daylights out of anything. There in lies the "quick" of the cake. Mix together sugar, eggs, oil and vanilla; lightly mix in flour, leavening, cocoa powder, salt and spice; mix in grated carrots and some raisins if you like. Easy and takes maybe ten minutes. Whack it in some pans - make sure you smooth the tops, otherwise they will be a bit lumpy (but easily hidden by thick icing). Can you tell that maybe I didn't smooth out the tops of the cake so well?

There were some detailed steps, which I followed, but which I am guessing you could leave out. The first was to sift the whisked dry ingredients onto a parchment before adding to the wet ingredients. It definitely makes a cleaner addition of the dry to wet, but I guess you could just sift directly into the mixer bowl without too many problems. The second was dividing the amount of floured raisins so one half was mixed in and the other half sprinkled onto the top of the pans and pressed in. Like the before and after photo above. This is, I presume so that all the fruit doesn't fall to the bottom. I don't think that this would be the case with this cake. The mixture has a thick consistency and is not very deep in the pan, so you could probably just mix in the full measure of raisins and skip the scatter and poke in step. Also, I skipped the flouring of the raisins - and my raisins didn't fall to the bottom.

I experimented this time with my cake liners - one pan I used parchment and the other I used the silicon liner. There was no difference between the final cakes, although I am not sure if this is just because the mixture was less demanding, given it is a heavier cake than say, a genoise. More of the cake sticks to the silicon liner than the parchment but no difference is detectable once iced!

The dreamy creamy white chocolate icing is exactly that. So easy to melt white chocolate and add it to cream cheese, butter and sour cream. On that, I admit to adjusting the ratios a little. Here in the UK, my chocolate came in a 200 gram slab and the cream cheese in a 300 gram pack, so I used a bit of creative license and reduced the other ingredients accordingly (read randomly, because I didn't use a calculator, just a finger to taste the final product). I refrigerated the icing for a little bit to get it a wee bit firmer - my cake was still cooling anyway.

And because the cake and icing were such a walk in the park, I decided to make some candied carrot to decorate the top. We were having people over for dinner, so I wanted the cake to look a bit special, rather than classic! Just a note on the candied carrot - it is nice and crispy at the time, but if it hangs around that moist cake for very long, then it soon becomes less crispy.

To make the candied carrot, I just peeled two carrots into a pot with half a cup of sugar and half a cup of water and let the carrot cook until it was translucent and the liquid became very syrupy. Then I removed the peelings (sounds great doesn't it?) to a silpat lined baking tray and baked in a medium oven until they were crispy.

Yes, this is a very classic carrot cake. It doesn't entertain walnuts, coconut, crushed pineapple or any other fancy embellishment, aside from the cocoa powder. I assume the cocoa powder is for colour - it would be great to know what that does in the final cake, because I can't taste it. And that simplicity of both ingredients and method means that it is a quick and easy cake that will easily impress. Especially with the addition of the dreamy creamy white chocolate icing. The faintest undertone of white chocolate is not cloying instead it provides just the right sweetness, with the sour cream delivering the tang. Gorgeous. But if you didn't have the white chocolate in the cupboard, then the traditional icing would be just fine.

Definitely a keeper and this recipe will be replacing my fiddly carrot cake recipe.

Fruitcake Wreath

2009-12-07T18:52:00.000Z

First off, I must admit to being a fruit cake fancier. I was a late starter, preferring instead the thick white icing, but firmly rejecting the tacky layer of yellow marzipan and the dense dark dry fruitcake - the corner piece of cake was much fought over. But now I pick off the thick white icing and reject the marzipan so as to enjoy the dense, hopefully not dry, fruitcake. I am still not a fan of the dry fruitcake, but I love a moist, fruity, slightly boozy fruitcake.

I am also quite a fan of Rose's Less Fruity Fruitcake from the Cake Bible. It is very rich, nicely fruity with not too many nuts. I am not a fan of nuts in my fruitcake - I think it is the stark contrast in texture between the plump fruits and the nuts that turn me off. So, given that the Fruitcake Wreath contains roughly equal proportions of nuts to fruit, I was almost reluctant to make it. But make it I did.

At Marie's prompting, to get our fruit marinating in the rum, I made a batch of candied citrus peel. It isn't a big deal to make your own - I followed the recipe in The Cooks Companion. I prefer this recipe over Rose's, primarily because you boil the rinds first to get rid of the bitterness in the pith. I think it maybe took about an hour from start to finish. I used a combination of orange, lemon and ruby grapefruit as my candied peel and combined this with uncoloured glace cherries, golden raisins, flame raisins and ruby raisins to marinate in the Captain Morgan Rum for just over a week.

Apart from the weird butter instructions that everyone has already mentioned, the cake came together pretty easily. The toasting of the nuts. Creaming (or whatever it was) the sugar and the butter in the mixer. I mixed in the flour, then fruit, then nuts by hand rather than the mixer. Glad I did, because by the time I got to the nuts, my bowl nearly runneth over.

The substitution of "exotic" raisins is something that I will continue to do in the future. The exponential impact in flavour was definitely noticeable even to my non discerning palate. I half filled two bundt tins and they took just under an hour to bake. Though it was a little tricky getting that thick cake mix perfectly flat so one of my cakes *may* be a little lopsided. And even though I oiled and floured my tins, one tin held tight to the cake and so I had to wodge that back together... hence no photo of a perfect specimen unlike the other Heavenly Cake Bakers.

But in the end, it didn't matter that it looked less than perfect - it tasted grand. All those nuts? Divine. As I ate it I thought, this isn't a fruit cake, it is more a nut cake with a touch of fruit, and I actually liked it. It is a pain in the neck to cut - I have no idea how Marie managed such a gorgeous slice. It is that messy slicing and crumbling nature that will result in it not becoming my Christmas cake of choice. I think you need to be able to eat your Christmas cake from your hand, not sure that you could do that with this cake very easily.

See that missing bit on the bottom left corner? That was a nut that wouldn't be sliced.

I don't think that this cake will become my replacement Christmas cake recipe, but it is a strong contender. It is light, not too sweet, the molasses from the dark muscovado provides some spice, the nuts definitely star and the fruit gives it depth and character. I will post again once I have sampled the second cake closer to Christmas.

I am looking forward to next weeks Carrot Cake - a cake without nuts!

Pure Pumpkin Cheesecake

2009-12-01T14:36:00.001Z

Woo hoo. Finally a cake where I didn't over nor under cook. That in itself is cause for much celebration round here. Though, as usual, it did not go totally to plan. The plan being that I would serve it to dinner guests on Saturday night. I started baking the cheesecake at lunchtime on Saturday. Somewhere in the instructions, it specifies overnight refrigeration. Which is not unusual for cheesecakes. I swear that this bake along is actually a test for memory and brain function. And apparently my memory and brain function ain't what it used to be.

So, let it be known that you don't in fact, need to refrigerate overnight. You can definitely get away with about four to six hours in the fridge and no one will be any worse off for the experience. Apart from their waistlines, because this cheesecake is so seriously fantastic it is difficult to stop at just one slice.

I grew up eating cheesecakes that were the holy union of gelatin, condensed milk, cream cheese and a fridge. The result being overly sweet, very rich desserts with the best bit being the crumb base. There seems to be an overriding obsession about using the oven as little as possible when it comes to family pot luck dinners. This last trip back to family pot luck NZ, I ate green fluff with crushed pineapple and tiny marshmallow bits and I think maybe some rice. Not sure what that was - I didn't stop for the recipe, but I do know it contained alot of gelatin or instant pudding and it never saw the inside of an oven. Before you ask, I made a Plum Duff which was my Great Grandmother's recipe. I will hopefully do a post on the Plum Duff prior to Christmas.

This cheesecake is very sophisticated, and much more refined than the cheesecake of my youth. Even though it should definitely grace the family pot luck table, I am pretty sure it never will. You see, it spends some time inside an oven, enjoying the steamy depths of a water bath. I would take an oven water bath over dealing with gelatin any day of the week, but I guess that is just me.

The only slightly involved step in this recipe was boiling the pumpkin puree with the sugar. Apart from that, all you had to do was introduce food processor to ingredients in the right order. Rose's tip for pressing the crumbs into the base with a flat sided measuring cup was genius. My biscuit base has never been so thin and even. Personally, I like my biscuit base a little less oily so next time I will add the butter gradually to the biscuit and pecan crumbs.

The other great tip was to use a silicone pan to protect the springform pan. I have made Rose's Cake Bible baked cheesecake a few times and every time my tin foil shroud has let water into the cheesecake. I am not sure if it is healthy to be so excited about this addition to my baking tips repository? It certainly is better than the tip I got from my Great Aunt Betty to add a couple of tablespoons of instant pudding (doesn't matter which flavour!!) to my whipped cream to keep it from weeping. Rest assured that her tip is filed quite a distance from the top.

This was a very liquid cheesecake and a very small part of my brain did wonder if it would set. The larger part, dominated by Rose, assured me that this would be fail proof. And you know what... it was.

Before it went into the oven, it was looking pale and unassuming, nestled as it was amongst the pre dinner party detritus on my bench. When it emerged from 45 minutes in the very steamy and warmish oven and then an hour of post water bath recovery time it had taken on an orange glow.

It does amaze me how different the colour is pre and post baking.

In summary, this cheesecake will definitely go in the repeat pile. It is much lighter than the Cordon Rose Cream Cheesecake in the Cake Bible. For any non Americans - don't be put off by the thought of pumpkin in your cheesecake... the flavour is very subtle and I think it provides a gorgeous colour and texture to the cake.

Edited to add :: I didn't make the caramel, because after making the cheesecake and then getting everything ready for our dinner guests, the last thing I felt like doing was fiddling about making caramel - particularly because it usually takes me at least two attempts, one where to sacrifice to the cake gods and one to grace the final project. Maybe next time, since everyone's caramel looks fantastic.

Until next week, when we will be baking the Fruitcake Wreath. I candied some orange, ruby grapefuit (amazing flavour) and lemon peel last week and my fruit has been soaking nicely is some Captain Morgan Rum. I don't usually like nuts in my fruitcake, so with this one topping in at a massive 600 grams of nuts, the results should be interesting. I think Faithy and I will end up with similar posts re our dislike of pecans and walnuts...

Catalan Salt Pinch Cake

2009-11-23T15:13:00.000Z

I now know why this is called a Pinch Cake - because you can't cut it neatly. My parents will be surprised to hear that I do have *some* deeply ingrained table manners - I was horrified at the idea of pinching of a wodge of cake to then stuff in my mouth. Could you have more than one wodge? Or was that akin to a Seinfield double dip?

Anyway, enough amateur psychoanalysis, how about some amateur baking instead? This was a pretty easy cake to make, with thankfully no icing! Toast and grind some almonds, make a meringue with sugar and almonds and then beat in small amounts of egg until you think you will lose your mind. Actually, it wasn't that bad but twenty minutes does allow for alot of thinking. Most of it along the lines of ... "Surely it wouldn't make any difference to add all the egg at once and beat for twenty minutes." and after twenty minutes of the same thought, as I carefully dosed in two tablespoons every two minutes, I did feel perilously close to insanity.

The resulting cake took an age (forty minutes or so) to bake - but I think that was because I didn't cut the parchment collar down to size. That minute I saved in prep time cost me about ten in baking time. I will now have to plant another tree to offset the carbon footprint of my laziness.

My cake did dip a little in the middle - probably more than in Rose's fabulous picture, although not quite enough for me to resort to weeping. I think I may have slightly undercooked this cake (I seem to be repeating that quite a bit - over/undercooked each week). Although my cake tester came out dry, the cake emitted a mushing noise when I touched the top. Even now, the day after, still that same mushing sound. This may be the reason it is such a mess to cut. The knife either compressed it akin to slicing a hot loaf of white bread or else it grated it like cheese. So in the end I hacked it with a serrated knife and also did a bit of pinching. The pinching was far neater, but fraught with the aforementioned psychological issues - who knew!?

We ate the cake with what were apparently the last twenty UK grown raspberries (based on the price) and whipped cream. On the whole, I was unimpressed by this cake. Yes it is moist, with a touch of lemon and the subtle crunch of ground almonds, but if I were to seek out an almond cake, then I would turn one more page in Rose's book and go straight for the Almond Shamah Chiffon. That way I wouldn't have to confront any of my phobias (other than maybe that one about eating such a girly pink cake) and I would have a cake that I could serve my Nana (I am not implying that she is a non- handwasher, although, now I come to think of it...).

Playing Catch Up - Woody's Lemon Layer Cake

2009-11-23T14:46:00.000Z

What an unmitigated disappointment this cake was or perhaps it was just the baker... I read a few posts on it and marveled at the light texture and general gorgeousness of it. There were no real warnings to heed, so even though I was running a week behind, I figured I would whip this cake up for a Friday the 13th morning tea.

The method of beating the butter into the flour and then slowly adding the eggs/liquid always leaves me with a flat, tough cake. I am not sure what I am doing wrong. Am I beating too much? I have no idea. The old fashioned creaming butter and sugar, beating in the eggs and folding in the flour always gives me a better textured more airy cake. One of the great mysteries of the world - any tips will be gladly received.

I have been entirely slack in the photo department for this cake - I will get my act back together for the Pinch Cake. I think the jetlag has eaten my motivation! The cake came together pretty well, though the time between uncooked and overcooked was about a nanosecond. Needless to say I missed it, and one of my cakes was overcooked. I really need a double oven - did you hear that Santa? I also used some silicon pan liners in the place of the parchment paper - what a mistake. I thought silicon didn't stick to anything, well, I can now attest that cake sticks to silicon. This cake at least. Hot, warm or cold, it stuck just the same - even worse on the overcooked cake.

I did cheat and chickened out of sacrificing even more eggs to this cake - I used the Tiptree Lemon Curd instead of standing over a double boiler stirring. I have done my lemon curd time! My icing came together without any issues. The white chocolate custard tasted a bit liked condensed milk but maybe that was because I had tasted it too much?! It was smooth and creamy and a dream to wrap around the cake. I also trimmed off the browned tops and bottoms - surely Woody did that for the photo shoot, because I can't imagine how he got them to stay so unbrowned...

I am pretty sure that I will never ever make this cake again. Well, maybe I might attempt it if I get some remedial lessons on the method. The icing I will most definitely make again. The texture was fantastic and it would be great on cupcakes. Given that, I have to correct my opening cry of this cake being an unmitigated disappointment - the icing saved it. Having said that the friends I served it up to, raved about it. I just love how the English are so so terribly polite!

Baby Chocolate Oblivions

2009-11-23T14:37:00.000Z

The last time I made this cake was for the base of our wedding cake over five years ago. I can remember the heating and beating of 18 eggs in my super sized Kenwood the day before the wedding. Great fun, but not as much fun as assembling the cake at 5.00am the morning of the wedding!

My approach this time was not as exacting as five years ago... after all, I wasn't trying to impress 128 people with my wifely baking skills! It is quite a simple recipe - chocolate, butter, a touch of sugar with folded in warmed, beaten eggs, baked in a bain marie. I think I lost the plot a little bit with Rose's instruction to cover the muffin pans with a baking tray. I was thinking myself very clever as I put the lid on the baking dish... which after the 15 minute baking time, wasn't so clever as it resulted in baby cakes that didn't wobble in their middles. Their middles were quite taut, without a wobble or a quiver in sight. I wasn't too worried, as I know that even overcooked, Rose's cakes are more than edible!

I didn't use a silicone muffin pan, and weirdly, I didn't grease the massive muffin pan that I used instead. I definitely must be on holiday - very laxidaisical baking. And the proof was in the pudding. I had to warm the pan to remove the cakes, and of course the pan held tight to some of the cake. My little cakes were less than perfect looking. And the overcooking made for a denser texture - not unpleasant, just less creamy smooth than I remember. In hindsight, the texas muffin pan was a mistake. I think a mini muffin pan or even the one that we used for the Barcelona bars would be a much better idea because these cakes are very very very rich.

These cakes were served up with a scoop of strawberry ice cream. That ice cream was really needed to cut through the richness. They were a bit too rich for the men in particular. Those that were accustomed to eating chocolate (ahem) were able to finish off a half serve of those massive texas muffins, but only if paired with the strawberry ice cream. There was alot of stomach holding and groaning after they were eaten, so maybe a quarter serve would have been ample. As an aside, you will be relieved to know that the dog ate none of these little cakes - chocolate being a dog killer and all.

Pumpkin Cake with Burnt Orange SMB

2009-11-02T22:35:00.000Z

I am pleased to say that we arrived in pretty good condition after our long long long flight. I thought my little assistant travelled really well and he slept much more than he would have at home. Sure there were a couple of crying jags, but I think by that stage everyone on the plane was probably feeling like howling with the frustration of extended turbulence. His love of travelators knows no bounds as we spent 99% of our in transit time in Hong Kong going backwards and forwards.

I can honestly admit, that if not for this group, I would never ever have baked this cake. This is when baking with pictures can actually be a bit intimidating rather than inspiring. Thankfully though, I did suck up some courage, buy a bundt pan (pumpkin pans are definitely not available in this sleepy little town!) and finally made my interpretation of Rose's very grand and very literal Pumpkin Cake.

Apart from a couple of ingredients - the walnut oil and pureed pumpkin- this was actually a very simple cake to make. I searched high and low for walnut oil (well, maybe not that high or low - just one grocery store) but to no avail. I just substituted canola oil for the walnut oil. I made my own pureed pumpkin which added to my trepidation - how wet is canned pumpkin? Would it ruin the cake if my pumpkin was too wet/not wet enough? I let my pureed pumpkin drain while I prepared the cake mix, just to be cautious. Making pumpkin puree is hardly brain surgery - so don't let that put you off making this cake.

The cake mix looked quite wet to my eye - and this is where I started to question how wet canned pumpkin puree could be? Though not enough to do any research on the internet! I was baking to a deadline - we were planning a visit to friends in Curio Bay to watch a couple of rugby games and stay the night. I just hoped for the best, placed my faith in Rose, and whacked the pan into the oven. I think it took about 40 minutes to cook. About a quarter of the time it took to make the faffing icing.

Ayeee. That icing. Okay, so it probably isn't best to multitask while making caramel. My first batch of burnt caramel was a bit too burnt. More black than deep amber. But onwards I soldiered, adding it into the milk - which promptly split. At that stage, I couldn't just pretend it would be okay. I started afresh, with single minded dedication and produced a rather thin looking not too burnt Creme Anglaise.

I had to use a hand beater to get the meringue, as my Mum's kitchen has a Kenwood and a swift whip hand beater with not a lot in between. So perhaps my meringue wasn't as firm as it could have been. I tested all the temperatures of the anglaise, the butter and the meringue and all averaged around the 21 degree celsius. So I don't know where I went wrong, but I suspect that the icing should be creamy smooth rather than looking a bit airy. It tasted fine, but just looked a bit weird. My Dad thought it was a special effect to make the icing look like the skin of an orange! Um. Not the intended result, but thanks. Unfortunately I didn't take any photos of the icing as I was making it. I suspect I beat the butter a bit too much and it became to airy? I think I will have to watch Rose make it on line - except I can't find it. Help! See how it looks weirdly solid but holey (don't I have a way with words?). Was it too cold? That orange string on the top is actually orange zest that I cooked in the remainder of the orange juice concentrate with some more sugar to crystallize it. The cake looked a bit bland without it.

In the end, my extra air bubbles (or whatever they were) did nothing to detract from the cake. Actually, I think the cake could more than stand up without any icing - it was that good. Moist, fragrant, flavourful and delicious. Definitely an alternative to the more ubiquitous carrot cake. Actually, I can see that this cake would be excellent as a last minute whip up (without the palaver of the icing though). I will keep making this cake - just not with the icing.

And the photo above is the view from where we ate Rose's Pumpkin Cake. Curio Bay or more correctly Porpoise Bay. A truly beautiful place, maybe 40 houses and a camping ground skirting the beach. A pod of Hector's dolphins regularly frequent the bay and frolic amongst the surfers and those souls brave enough to swim in the ocean. There is also a colony of Blue Penguins nesting around the bay - even under the back step of our friend's house.

So looking forward to seeing everyone elses perfect icing adorning their pumpkins. Hopefully there will be a few photos of the in process icing so I can do a mental comparison.

Almond Shamah Chiffon

2009-10-26T00:00:00.003Z

With any luck, by the time this posts, I will be winging my way from London to Invercargill (be warned this link is only for the brave and really really sums up Invercargill!), New Zealand. I think this may actually be the furthest destination from London - it is almost 11,800 miles. If I am not somewhere over Asia/Europe/Pacific, then you may have heard about it on the news.

No, I am not a nervous flyer. Well, if I am to be totally honest, I will be a touch nervous this time. Mainly because I will be traveling 31 hours with my very active little assistant - my 15 month old son. In coach. With no extra seat. On my own. Did I mention he is quite active? And that he has a cold complete with two green caterpillars extending from nose to everywhere? I must be completely mad. On the other hand, if I could contain him like this, then maybe it would be okay, although a little bulky on my lap.

Getting off the plane in Invercargill is a bit like stepping back in time. First off, you invariably are met with the smell of fresh cow dung carried on howling winds blowing straight from Antartica. (BTW, the cows live around the airport, not in Antartica - just penguins, birds, wind and a few scientists there). Secondly, there is hardly anyone there; Invercargill has 49,300 residents and London numbers 7,700,000 - give or take. So the pace of life is a little slower than London, and that takes a few days to get used to. I mean, strangers (whom my mother assures me are completely in charge of their faculties) talk to you in the street - and not to get you to get you to move/walk faster/push you aside. People don't treat you as though you were invisible. It doesn't take an hour to drive 6 miles. Very, very weird.

In an attempt to delay the reality of the journey for a few more hours, I embarked on this week's cake exercise. Can I just say that this cake looks like a little girly girl's dream come true. All that is missing is a Barbie poking out of the top. Well, at least that is what Rose's cake looks like. And I am now happy to report that my cake is also looking fabulously girly. Perfect for an afternoon tea with your rose scented Grandmother. Definitely a cake to be eaten from pretty cake plate with a fork and of course a napkin.

I am yet to completely pack (though I have already packed Rose's book and cooking accoutrements), I still have washing drying and my flight leaves in nine hours - loads of time. So here goes a very quick round up.

I found this cake pretty easy. No smoke. No leaking pans. No Pollyfilla masquerading as cake. I know - how disappointing! Even my non blog reading friends were strangely pleased when I told them of my cake disaster, somehow they thought that all was right in the world if I could end up with such a mess. So glad to offer a ritual sacrifice to the cake ~~destroying~~ gods every once in a while.

Can I just say that I am loving these cakes of Rose that beat the love into egg yolk and sugar, dust in (!!) the flours then fold in the meringue. I was extra specially diligent this week and even went so far as to make my own wondra flour with the mix of Kate Flour and cornflour. I bought all the right ingredients... I may have been cursing living in the UK vs USA when I was microwaving my flour, but boy oh boy, was I glad that the Tiptree seedless raspberry was in my local supermarket and it tastes amazing. I was very happy to avoid sieving jars of raspberry jam.

As I was saying, the cake came together quite well, a really lovely thick mixture. Though I wasn't so keen on licking the bowl. There is something about almond extract that gives me the heebies - I was seriously questioning whether I would even be able to eat the finished cake.

This is my version of a dusting. It looked less like a dusting and more like Pompeii circa AD 79. And folding in the glorious meringue is weirdly satisfying.

This chiffon, is quite like a genoise in that you remove the crusts and apply a syrup. The cake on the left is slightly undercooked, and the cake on the right is probably just right.

The top on the right looks pretty ugly because I improvised the flip flip flip action by using a baking sheet. And didn't spray the baking sheet to prevent the top from sticking. Which of course it did. You know, that Rose, she really knows her stuff! It didn't really matter though as the top and bottom get taken off anyway.

In this cake ugliness is definitely only skin deep. The left cake is definitely slightly undercooked, it was harder to remove the surface and the middle was slightly too spongy. My palate couldn't taste it in the final cake though. The top and bottom of each cake is brushed with 1/4 cup of amaretto syrup. This does make the cake a bit fragile, but fortunately after my burnt offerings of last week, I managed to pull off the flip flip assembly without any issues.

Rose's recipe calls for a raspberry jam flavoured whipped cream. I opted instead for a raspberry jam flavoured mascarpone icing. Why? Well, I couldn't be bothered whipping cream, and I had a huge pot of mascarpone sitting in the fridge that wasn't going to be so great in three weeks. Plus mascarpone in the UK is only marginally more expensive than cream. Blessed aren't we? The only thing I will say about the mascarpone icing, is that if it is cold when you put it on your cake, you will definitely get crumbs in your icing. I even froze the cake before I iced it and I still got crumbs in the cake. Luckily my only audience was my husband and the neighbours, so not so sure they would even notice that there were crumbs in the icing (especially if I was to not point it out).

A couple of lessons learned here. See that the parchment strips are still under the cake? I removed one, and along with it a wodge of icing where it was resting on the parchment, so I ended up having to cut around the parchment and remove the overhang. Also, I think if you use mascarpone instead of cream, you actually need a bit more because the final icing isn't as aerated. I just used what I had, so ended up with a less than perfect horizontal surface. Maybe if I was serving this to a more exacting audience, then I would have bothered more. Don't tell my husband or the neighbours!

Here it is in all its pretty pastel purple/pink. The undercooked cake is on the bottom and you can see that it has a more dense crumb. I think this is also due to cake position in my rubbish oven. I think I would have liked a tad more icing on the side, but other than that the icing/cake balance was quite good. I didn't use the full measure of jam, just added it until it tasted sweet enough. Though by that stage, I had tasted so much icing that my tongue had no idea whether it was too sweet or not. No complaints from any of the testers, so I guess it was fine.

This is an excellent, and sophisticated (!) cake. Quite delicate with the understated almond flavour nicely balancing the raspberry mascarpone icing. It is so light and airy, even the most jaded palate could tell that this is no cake mix/mass produced supermarket or cake chain cake. Grandmother would be (quietly) impressed!

Right, off now to finish my packing! Looking forward to reading everyone's posts from deepest darkest New Zealand. Fortunately they do have electricity and sometimes even the internet. I will post some photos, because it is a truly beautiful part of the world, so long as you think sheep and cows and fields and wind blown trees are beautiful (though maybe not as spectacular as Butteryum's autumnal photos).

Upside Down Apple Cake (Smoked)

2009-10-19T15:23:00.002+01:00

When I opened the oven to rotate the cake and smoke billowed from the oven, I had an inkling that this cake wouldn't turn out *exactly* like the photo in Rose's Heavenly Cakes. As I raced the three steps to close the kitchen door so that the smoke alarm wouldn't go off, I ran headlong into our dinner guests. Hardly an auspicious start to the evening... but at least the smoke alarm didn't go off.

Fortunately, the old adage, "where there is smoke, there is fire" didn't hold true in my kitchen. The clouds of smoke were courtesy of the caramel that had found its way to the oven floor. How did it find its way to the oven floor you may ask? Well, here is where I admit the first of my schoolgirl errors. Um, I used a springform cake tin in complete contravention of the recipe instructions. Yes, I am aware that caramel turns to liquid when heat is applied. And yes, I am aware that springform cake tins are in no way leakproof. And I didn't place the cake tin on a baking sheet, so heat + caramel + sieve like cake tin - baking sheet + floor heated oven = smoke (lots thereof).

It did start promisingly. I prepared my apples with precision, I wanted to make sure that they were evenly sliced to ensure even cooking and so that they would look nice.

I made the caramel, which is always such a nerve wracking experience - is it amber enough now? how about now? what about now? I probably could have gone darker, but as it all ended up on the oven floor - not sure it would have made much difference to my cake!

I pretended that I was more particular than I usually am as I neatly laid out the apples on the bottom, fantasising about how great they would look when they became the top. I can tell you that I was bitterly disappointed at wasting ten minutes of my life on arranging those apples. Because, those Cox apples, they weren't the shape holding type. Witness the second schoolgirl error - just using the apples I had to hand, rather than looking on the internet to see if they would work. Um, trial and error for a dinner party is for the stupid or the very brave. But they sure looked pretty before I introduced them to the oven.

And can you see the folly of my ways with that springform pan. I amaze myself. If I had been observing anyone else making this cake, I would have been onto them as they lined it with parchment - but doing it myself? Nuh uh. Very annoyed at myself. But in my defense, I don't actually have a non springform tin. Perhaps I was in a blissful state of denial? Have now added it to my "need to buy" list.

And I think all that caramel pooling on the bottom of the oven did something to its thermostat because the oven became blisteringly hot. So the first 20 odd minutes of the baking was done well in excess of the recommended temperature. The result of high temperature extreme baking...

I think I was nearly crying, or laughing hysterically at this stage. Those are big massive bubbles on the top of the cake. It has pulled away from the sides, because I had already run the spatula around the edge. Our poor dinner guests had to listen to me witter on about the bloody oven (it is atrocious), while sitting in an ever increasing smoky haze, in the cold (had to get rid of the smoke by opening the door and windows!). They were even more surprised when I started to take photos of the disaster. After all, who would blog about smoking a cake?

And this is when I wanted those ten apple arranging minutes of my life back. I could have used those ten minutes to think about how a springform pan and caramel would never ever work. It looked like apple sauce on polyfilla. And it wasn't as though I could just throw it out and pretend I hadn't made it - our dinner guests were sitting right there, watching the whole sorry mess unfold. Very entertaining I am sure. What was worse was that after I ~~cooked~~ cremated the cake, I had to use the same oven to bake our dinner. If ever there was an argument for the absolute need double ovens - then this is it. The smoke that issued forth from the oven throughout the night was comical to say the least.

It wasn't inedible. Not quite. I am probably a bit more exacting (or less polite, not sure which) than our guests.

Look at that... dense dense dense ~~pollyfilla~~ cake topped by an almost imperceptible layer of apple. I think the cake was so dense for a few reasons.

1. I didn't have time to make Kate Flour, so ended up using a fine grade unbleached flour.
2. Blazing hot oven temperature.
3. Those apples literally dissolved up into the batter.

I served it with vanilla ice cream and clotted cream, mainly because I forgot about the bourbon cream - I had been thinking of making it with whiskey instead. And I also didn't do the walnuts - I am all nutted out for the moment.

The funniest (and probably most honest) comment about the cake was "The ice cream is nice." I am still laughing about that even now.

My confidence is a little singed. I am hoping my mojo will return this week as I embark on baking my husband's birthday cakes for his office. I am not sure if that is just an English thing, where you supply the cakes to all and sundry if it is your birthday? The one upside of the financial crisis - there are alot fewer mouths to feed in his office this year. But it will still be two full size lemon tarts, two dozen Barcelona Brownie Bars (all my kit has arrived now) and about 50 tiramisu cupcakes. Last year I made 150 odd cupcakes. And hopefully the comments will be better than "the ice cream is nice...", especially because there will be no ice cream on offer.

B Cubed - Barcelona Brownie Bars

2009-10-12T09:09:00.000+01:00

Oh - how exciting! My signed copy of Rose's book arrived. Fabulous. It is now safely stored on my cookbook shelf, nestled next to the Cake Bible and the Pastry Bible.

If you ever find yourself in Barcelona, then you really should try to find this bar. Shoulder to shoulder with a strange mix of locals and tourists. Definitely not for the shy - you have to be pushy to get served, and you really really really need to try the great cava served in those 1950's bowl like champagne glasses accompanied by a sandwich. It sounds weird, but oh so good.

We spent our first Christmas away from family and friends in Barcelona - which was a fantastic way to allay any feelings of homesickness. How can you be homesick with all that great food and cava? That little bar was one of the highlights. The other highlight was this fantastic wine bar outside Basílica de Santa Maria del Mar. Obviously, we did this trip when we were DINKY. My vegetarian husband cast aside his principles for that trip and ate his way through the equivalent of a piglet. Do non pork eating people do the same when offered a tapas of Jamón Serrano or Ibérico?

Apparently this isn't a travel blog, so, enough of Barcelona - what about the Brownies? Mine weren't exactly bars - my silicone mold (in the correct size) didn't arrive in time, so I made do with my oval shaped friand tins. Which, funnily enough are an Australian/NZ interpretation of the financier. Lord knows why we called them friands and didn't stick with financier?

These were pretty simple to make. Toast nuts, make ganache, melt butter and chocolate, beat in eggs, cocoa, sugar and vanilla, beat in diced cream cheese (I miss the old packaging), fold in sprinkling of flour and the cooled toasted nuts, bake, stab, fill ~~wounds~~ holes with ganache. Job done.

The glossy, oh so glossy mix. I made it in the stand mix up until the point of adding the flour and pecans - I did the last steps by hand.

I made these on Friday night. Which probably wasn't the best time. Given that the takeaway needed to be collected NOW, not in another two minutes when the cakes might bounce back when pressed on top. So, throwing all caution to the wind (duly influenced by a very agitated small person who wanted to be outside NOW, NOW, NOW), I wedged the oven door open and hoped that the reducing temperature and fifteen minute round trip would not completely ruin the brownies. You see, I have never made brownies before. However, I have read alot of recipes, and all of them warn, under pain of death, DO NOT OVERCOOK.

I despaired when we returned home. Surely they were overcooked, I mean, they bounced back, but they didn't feel bouncy enough? And I thought they had to still be mushy on top? My thermapen is on route via Royal Mail, which is in the grip of an extended strike - so I couldn't test the internal temperature. Meh - they would have to do. So I duly stabbed them and filled the punctures with the ganache. They looked like little shiny black oval bricks. So shiny. Rose's picture wasn't shiny. I must have overcooked them.

We sampled them post dinner once they had cooled. I think my palate was so clouded by overcooked disappointment, that I couldn't really taste them. They were fudgy, which is how a brownie should be, right? Given I am not Amercian and my brownie consumption history can be counted on one finger, I am hardly a connoisseur. They were very chocolaty, (I used 72% chocolate), not too sweet, but quite heavy. So heavy I felt like I was still eating it as I lay in bed. Most definitely not cake like. Which is apparently what happens when you overcook them. So perhaps I hadn't overcooked them? But them given the ingredients, so little flour was unlikely to make them cake like. Overcooking might, however, make them quite heavy?

I have eaten two this morning - for the purposes of research, of course. They are still, fudgy, deeply chocolaty, and heavy. And you know what else? I didn't like the nuts last night, and I still don't like the nuts this morning - though for some reason they are slightly less noticeable. I will be baking these again. As soon as my mold arrives. And as soon as my thermapen arrives. And not just before having to depart the house NOW, NOW, NOW. And not with nuts. Or cherries for that matter. But definitely with the ganache. Which was a nice contrast in the bar - but next time I think I will be more forceful and get more into those holes.

And here it is Monday morning and I still haven't posted this entry... I will update to add that by Sunday evening, the nuts had mellowed alot (or perhaps I had?) and I quite liked the texture. And weirdly now, I am craving just one more of those Barcelona Brownie Bars, even with the pecans.

Hungarian Jancsi Torta

2009-10-05T14:50:00.001+01:00

Don't believe everything you read on the internet - like you needed me to tell you that? Amazon declared that I would not receive Rose's Heavenly Cakes until 5th October, but there was the delivery guy, at my door on Saturday morning. Which then meant that I could hit the first deadline. Result.

I admit to doing a bit of google research on the Jancsi Torta prior to the book arriving. I scared myself into thinking it was a 12 layer cake with four different fillings and artfully spun sugar gracing the top of a perfectly glazed cake. Ha! It was a blessed relief when I opened to page 279 and quickly realised that five ingredients would not result in death by 12 layers. And the picture was also a bit of a giveaway. I stopped cooking by pictures many years ago, but it is kind of nice to see a bit of cake porn next to the recipe. I was also mightily relieved not to have to make my own bleached flour!

As an aside, I really like the layout of the instructions in this book. The offset headings are an instant reminder of what needs doing. Because after I have read the instructions once, that is all I really need. (Except for needing to read the instructions fully five times to work out where the nuts and chocolate were added in...).

Toasting the walnuts and removing their skins was a bit of a palaver. Probably not helped by me using walnut pieces instead of halves. My thought process was - "they get ground up, why use halves?", answer, it probably makes for easier and cleaner separation of walnut from skin. That said, it wasn't the most difficult thing I have ever done. And I couldn't really detect any bitterness in the final product from alot of walnuts still clinging very firmly to their skins.

I used a slightly more bittersweet chocolate (Green and Blacks 72%), but did not adjust the sugar ratio at all. Not sure that my palate is refined enough to detect anything adverse and I think I would need a side by side comparison to figure out if there was any difference in the final cake.

I love watching the process of the bright orange yolks emulsify into the palest yellow. Magic.

There is something about folding cake mixes that reminds me of my Grandmother. Watching her make endless sponges and cakes. Firm, tender, precise, delicate, meditative and something that no machine, in my kitchen at least, can replicate.

The finished batter definitely came up higher than halfway on my cake tin, but fortunately, it didn't spill out over the top during the baking.

I fashioned my own cake strips, which worked amazingly well. Can you see how tiny my kitchen is? You can see it all in that photo. I am sure there are people with smaller kitchens, but I am kind of glad I am not them! The whole "clean as you go" thing, didn't exactly happen this time around. For one, the front to end process was pretty quick, and secondly, I made this cake at the same time as cooking dinner.

Not alot of downtime especially with my little assistant.

Rose mentions that the cake should sink in the middle. Mine didn't... not sure why that was. The sides definitely looked like they were breathing in. But the top didn't sink. If I had have known that, I would have probably iced it with a ganache.

Because I didn't finish baking this cake until after dinner on Sunday night, and because we didn't hang around waiting for it to cool, we didn't sample it until today. I awoke to find a wedge removed for *someones* lunch. I must confess to having a very small sliver this morning before breakfast without any accompaniments. And now I am enjoying another, much larger slice, with trimmings of clotted cream and sour cherries. Verdict?

The cake is sensationally light and airy and almost mousse like. The dark chocolate melts instantly in your mouth and makes way for the grainy, crunch of the walnuts. I think my walnuts were ground fine enough, but perhaps I could have spent a bit more time pulsing the chocolate (after looking at those chocolate chunks above).

The sour cherries were a perfect match, but the clotted cream was a touch too heavy for this delicate cake. I think a very thin layer of ganache, perhaps flavoured with some of the cherry syrup, would have been perfect.

Would I make this again... in a word - yes. It would be a great finish to a dinner party. The lightness of this cake makes it perfect: not too sweet, light and airy. And best of all, it is quick to make, uses only five ingredients and could be made the day before.

Marie, this was a great selection for our first bake along/bake through. Thank you! After lightly browsing through the book, I get the feeling that it won't always be as easy as the Hungarian Jancsi Torta...

So, if you are looking for an easy introduction to Rose's Heavenly Cakes, and you have a food processor and a stand mixer and if no cake strips, at least a roll of aluminium foil, this cake is for you.

How hard can it be?

2009-10-02T13:23:00.000+01:00

I've read Julie and Julia- how hard can it be to cook your way through a recipe book? Except, that was quite difficult, if I recall. And then I looked through the archives of HeavenlyCakePlace and realised that maybe this would be a bit more challenging than baking a batch of cup cakes every week. Not least sourcing and then caramelising cacao nibs. Eeek.

And then blog about it... ideally every week or at least twice a month, after you bake. This goal from the person who has never kept an annual diary past the middle of January; who seldom comments on the myriad of blogs I lurk; who has never blogged. And I assume it would be better with some photos, artfully shot, without a backdrop of cooking detritus (must remember to clean as I go, rather than just chant it.)

Except, all this brilliant realisation was after I had enrolled to be one of the Heavenly Cake Bakers.

Given that I am not keen on failure, I have given myself a stern talking to. I have baked loads of Rose's other cakes; I have made numerous multi tiered wedding cakes; countless birthday cakes. I live in London - I can source cacao nibs (maybe not bleached cake flour - but then there is always Kate Flour). I just have to juggle my 14 month son and husband with cake baking - neither of whom will complain about cake for dinner ... again. And finally, the internet is a fantastic thing: I can figure out how to work a blog; Rose's videos are there for techniques; I can source obscure (to me anyway) kitchen kit; there are at least fourteen other Heavenly Cake Bakers doing the very same thing. Peer pressure is a powerful motivator!

How hard can it be?

THE GOAL: To bake through "Rose's Heavenly Cakes"

THE RULES:

You must have access to a copy of Rose's Heavenly Cakes.
You must have a blog.
At the beginning of each month Marie of HeavenlyCakePlace - will post the recipes that will be featured for the month. Marie will bake one per week, but you only have to agree to bake at least two a month.
Blog posts should be posted within 24 hours of the date detailed next to the recipes list.
If you lose the will, let Marie know so she can remove you from the list - that way, only active bakers are on the list of bloggers.
Recipes will not be posted on the blogs since everyone will have a copy of the book. (Our photos and tales should be a well of inspiration to you to purchase Rose's book.)

Now I just need Amazon and the Royal Mail to get on board and deliver my copy of Rose's Heavenly Cakes. Now.

Easy.