le monte cristo

This was the second cake I worked on, and it involved six separate elements: sacher chocolate cake, pastry cream, butter cream (combined into a mousseline coffee cream), coffee ganache, and trablit syrup.



This recipe also diverged the furthest from the printed version. By way of example, I am going to give you the cake and the mousseline procedures, as written and as performed.

Sacher chocolate cake:
650g marzipan at 50% (use almond paste)
400g icing sugar (use powdered sugar)
320g yolks (note: one yolk is ~15g)
150g butter
150g cocoa
75g flour
75g cornflour (use cornstarch)
480g egg whites
70g sugar

Recipe as printed:
In an electric mixer, whip the marzipan with the icing sugar. Add the yolks and the whole eggs gradually, beating until smooth. Whisk the eggs whites and and sugar to a firm snow, then fold a part of this into the marzipan mixture, then the melted butter, and the sifted mixture of flour, cornflour, cocoa, and finally the remainder of the egg whites. Spread out onto 60cm x 40cm silpat sheets at the rate of 650g/tray.

Recipe as performed:
Using the paddle, beat the almond paste at high speed until smooth. Lower speed and add the yolks one by one, beating until incorporated before adding the next. Change to the whisk attachment. Beat the whole eggs and sugar into the yolk-almond paste until uniform. While this is happening, use another mixer to beat the egg whites and sugar to firm peaks. By hand, fold this into the egg-almond-sugar mixture. Then fold in all the remaining sifted dry ingredients. Then fold in all the butter. Spread onto one silpat-lined sheet tray.

Mousseline coffee cream:
700g pastry cream
1200g buttercream
60g trablit (coffee essence)

Recipe as printed:
In the beater, with a whisk, flavor the pastry cream with the trablit, then, in second gear, incorporate the butter cream bit by bit.

Recipe as performed:
Whip the pastry cream by hand. Whip the trablit and buttercream by hand. Fold buttercream and pastry cream together, VERY CAREFULLY, by hand. Work the mixture as little as humanly possible.

(Chef's comment: "If you put this in the mixer, at all, I guarantee that it will break.")

Even the pastry cream and buttercream procedures as written do not mention tempering the egg yolks (they say "pour scalded milk over the creamed yolks and sugar") and so basically ask you to scramble your eggs.

Lesson: careful with recipes.



The cake turned out well, with two layers of chocolate-almond cake, a layer of the coffee mousseline, and a thick layer of coffee chocolate ganache. The sheet cake had to be skinned and leveled by hand, which was a terrifying procedure, but in the end my layers looked better than I'd expected they would. The whole cake was auctioned off for charity and the small slices were sold in the pastry case.

cake and tart rotation

All I did was cakes. Two weeks, three cakes, and more creme anglaise than I ever thought I'd make.

This rotation taught me a lot about recipes. Namely, that one should never follow them. They are provided as a ruse to trick the eager and unsuspecting student. The chef is waiting for you to come to him to ask about technique, at which point he will inform you that what is written on that paper in your hand will only yield disaster.

The first cake is the emeraude pistache framboise. It is a layer cake composed of a pistachio sponge cake, a vanilla bavarian, and a raspberry gelee. This cake is mostly an exercise in getting layers spread across a sheet pan to be of an even depth, and that's harder than you'd think. I don't know why someone doesn't invent a cake collar with a grid. Or one that's transparent.

As you can see, this part of the cake looks great. Nice, even layers. Until you get to that bit on the left there. Oops.



The cake was made and assembled over two days, frozen overnight, and then cut and sold on the third day.



I ended up with sixteen small pieces and two medium cakes. The slices are cut with a long double-handled knife, and we heat the blade with a blow torch between slices. Since the cake is frozen, this makes slicing through it very easy. It's like a hot cake guillotine.

olive oil cake

This cake is from Sunday Suppers at Luques, one of the most consistently delicious and reliable books I have ever used. Quite literally everything that I've made from this book has been phenomenal, although some of the recipes require quite a bit of work. (Don't try to make a four-course meal for six people with two cooks and two hours.) This cake recipe is one that *isn't* a lot of work.



The only downsides are that it requires quite a bit of olive oil, which isn't cheap, and a LOT of eggs. 9. NINE EGGS. But the cake--oh, I could eat it every day. It's extraordinarily moist, not very sweet, with a distinct but not overwhelming olive oil flavor. It's mildly savory and thus can pair with anything-- olive oil ice cream, creme fraiche, fruit, you name it. I ate it for breakfast, for snack, and for dessert, and sent some to the staff at cafe piccolo. And I've been thinking about it ever since. I'll probably make it again this week.



And it really is that gorgeous golden color all on its own!

I just realized, as I was typing out this recipe, that I made the cake wrong when I made it. Upon revealing my mistake (I put the heavy cream into the batter with the olive oil) I was instructed to make it that way for all time, because the cake was that good. It's up to you-- make it as instructed below, or fold the cream and olive oil in together.


Olive Oil Cake, from Sunday Suppers at Luques
1 cup extra virgin olive oil, plus extra for greasing the pan
3/4 cup all purpose flour
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup semolina
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 cup brandy (i omitted this because i didn't have any brandy)
3 extra-large eggs
6 extra-large egg yolks
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup heavy cream (this should be whipped and served with the cake, unless you're me. If you're me, include heavy cream with "wet ingredients".)

Preheat the oven to 375.

Brush a 9" round cake pan with olive oil.

Sift the flour and baking baking powder together and then stir in the semolina and salt. Combine 1 cup olive oil and the brandy in a small bowl.

Using a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the eggs, yolks, and sugar at a high speed until full volume. (Pale and ribbons.) Remove the bowl from the mixer and alternate folding in the dry and wet ingredients, a third at a time. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan. Tap the pan a few times on the counter to remove any air bubbles.

Bake about 40 minutes or until the cake begins to pull away from the sides of the pan and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. The cake should be golden brown and spring back when you touch the center. I used a 10" pan and the baking time was markedly less. Cool the cake on a rack for 15 minutes before turning out of the pan.

cake rotation

SO MANY CAKES. These are roughly in the order in which they were made.

lemon-raspberry pound cake: easy to make. Very pink. A bit too sweet for me (especially with the glaze).



These cheesecakes cracked a bit, and so we got to decorate them with chocolate. Trying to do neat stripes failed me, so I went the Pollack route. One of the chefs overheard me talking about me pollack cheesecake and he called out, "you need a cigarette and a shot of whiskey, THEN you'll be doing it right!"



For a cake that gets no respect, Tiger cake is quite delicious. It's pretty easy (no one respects the easy things, eh?) -- just vanilla cake with lemon zest swirled with chocolate cake and then coated in chocolate ganache.



This next cake I tasted when someone else made it and then begged to do it during our rotation. It's a black forest cake-- a devil's food cake flavored with kirsch cherries (in the batter) and then layered and coated with kirsch buttercream. This process taught us to level cakes when slicing layers, to frost, and to make rosettes. And it tastes like heaven. I bought a whole cake.



The outside of the cake is coated in chocolate cake crumbs. This is a useful tactic if your frosting job isn't particularly spectacular. You can also use nuts.



The rosettes are topped with a kirsch cherry (we soaked the dried cherries in kirsch brandy). The frosting swirl in the middle of the cake is actually very hard to do-- you need a very steady hand.



We had made a swiss roll cake (often jellied or something and then rolled up into a log and sliced) but forgot about it in the fridge for a while. We also had some extra devil's food cake and kirsch syrup from the black forest cakes. We made some chocolate mousse and learned to layer. The white layer is the swiss cake, which we soaked with the kirsch syrup to soften it up, and the dark cake is the chocolate-cherry, and then the mousse. Getting mousse layers to be level is quite a challenge.



We decorated one cake to be sold whole (cocoa powder and bits on top) and sliced the rest for individual sale (in background).



The last project was petit-fours for the bakeshop party. This is an opera cake, but a bastardized version. It's a milk chocolate sponge, coffee buttercream, chocolate ganache, and shiny chocolate glaze. i think.



We spent an hour cutting the cake into wee pieces for party serving. It was an extremely rich cake, so the small pieces were for the best.

chocolate peanut butter triple layer cake

This is the biggest (tallest) cake I've ever made. The Tiramisu cake might have come close, now that I think of it, but trust me: this cake is massive. It's also extremely rich. And extremely delicious.



The cakes are not too sweet, but they are very, very soft. The cream cheese/peanut butter frosting/filling is rich and tastes, essentially, like reese's peanut butter cups.

And as if that weren't enough, you dump peanut-dark chocolate ganache over the whole thing. Seriously, we're gilding the lily here. Gild away.



I didn't say it was pretty, but once you have your fork in your mouth you won't care. I promise.

Recipe taken from Smitten Kitchen
Sour Cream-Chocolate Cake with Peanut Butter Frosting and Chocolate-Peanut Butter Glaze
Sky High: Irresistable Triple-Layer Cakes

This cake is INTENSE. Serve it in the thinnest slices possible, and keep a glass of milk handy.

Makes an 8-inch triple-layer cake; serves 12 to 16 (the book says, I say a heck of a lot more)

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 cups sugar
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder, preferably Dutch process
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup neutral vegetable oil, such as canola, soybean or vegetable blend
1 cup sour cream
1 1/2 cups water
2 tablespoons distilled white vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs

1/2 cup coarsely chopped peanut brittle (I skipped this)

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Butter the bottoms and sides of three 8-inch round cakepans. Line the bottom of each pan with a round of parchment or waxed paper and butter the paper.

2. Sift the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt into a large bowl. Whisk to combine them well. Add the oil and sour cream and whisk to blend. Gradually beat in the water. Blend in the vinegar and vanilla. Whisk in the eggs and beat until well blended. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and be sure the batter is well mixed. Divide among the 3 prepared cake pans.

3. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until a cake tester or wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out almost clean. Let cool in the pans for about 20 minutes. Invert onto wire racks, carefully peel off the paper liners, and let cool completely. (Deb note: These cakes are very, very soft. I found them a lot easier to work with after firming them up in the freezer for 30 minutes. They’ll defrost quickly once assembled. You’ll be glad you did this, trust me.)

4. To frost the cake, place one layer, flat side up, on a cake stand or large serving plate. Spread 2/3 cup cup of the Peanut Butter Frosting evenly over the top. Repeat with the next layer. Place the last layer on top and frost the top and sides of the cake with the remaining frosting. (Deb note 1: Making a crumb coat of frosting–a thin layer that binds the dark crumbs to the cake so they don’t show up in the final outer frosting layer–is a great idea for this cake, or any with a dark cake and lighter-colored frosting. Once you “mask” your cake, let it chill for 15 to 30 minutes until firm, then use the remainder of the frosting to create a smooth final coating. Deb note 2: Once the cake is fully frosting, it helps to chill it again and let it firm up. The cooler and more set the peanut butter frosting is, the better drip effect you’ll get from the Chocolate-Peanut Butter Glaze.)

5. To decorate with the Chocolate–Peanut Butter Glaze, put the cake plate on a large baking sheet to catch any drips. Simply pour the glaze over the top of the cake, and using an offset spatula, spread it evenly over the top just to the edges so that it runs down the sides of the cake in long drips. Refrigerate, uncovered, for at least 30 minutes to allow the glaze and frosting to set completely. Remove about 1 hour before serving. Decorate the top with chopped peanut brittle.

Peanut Butter Frosting
Makes about 5 cups

10 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
1 stick (4 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature
5 cups confectioners’ sugar, sifted
2/3 cup smooth peanut butter, preferably a commercial brand (because oil doesn’t separate out)

1. In a large bowl with an electric mixer, beat the cream cheese and butter until light and fluffy. Gradually add the confectioners’ sugar 1 cup at a time, mixing thoroughly after each addition and scraping down the sides of the bowl often. Continue to beat on medium speed until light and fluffy, 3 to 4 minutes.

2. Add the peanut butter and beat until thoroughly blended.

Chocolate-Peanut Butter Glaze
Makes about 1 1/2 cups

8 ounces seimsweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
3 tablespoons smooth peanut butter
2 tablespoons light corn syrup
1/2 cup half-and-half

1. In the top of d double boiler or in a bowl set over simmering water, combine the chocolate, peanut butter, and corn syrup. Cook, whisking often, until the chocolate is melted and the mixture is smooth.

2. Remove from the heat and whisk in the half-and-half, beating until smooth. Use while still warm.

hazelnut brown butter cake

I'm sorry I've been so lax about posting. I have no excuses, other than that I've been eating instead of blogging. I have a backlog of about 3-5 things to get up here and I promise I'll get to it posthaste.



So, about this cake. I intended to make it ages ago, because the name has the words Hazelnut and Brown Butter in it, and that's all I really needed to know. Then I read the recipe and saw that I had to get the skins off the hazelnuts and I had whip egg whites to stiff peaks, and I balked. De-skinning hazelnuts is a pain in the ass and I have an irrational fear of whipping egg whites, because I'm certain that I can't do it properly.

WELL. This cake is proof that you can do EVERYTHING wrong and your cake will still taste like these:



I blanched the hazelnuts with baking powder and then scrubbed them and rubbed them in a towel to get the skins off. Fail. I roasted them in the oven and then rubbed them so vigorously that they started breaking. And the skins stayed on. In frustration I gave up and dumped the nuts in the food processor anyway, looking like this:



I ground them up with the other ingredients and then realized I probably didn't grind it fine enough. Oh well. Onward.

The brown butter got a bit over-brown. It didn't smell burnt, but it was more like Nearly Black Butter. Shit. Move on.

I have a new mixer. I was excited about this because I knew it could do the egg-white-whipping very quickly. Directions said on High, 8 minutes. I walked away and two or three minutes later I peeked into my mixer and all hell had broken loose. The eggs had become overbeaten IN 180 SECONDS. Speedy fucking Gonzales, that mixer is. After the nut debacle, I wanted to toss the whole mess in the garbage, but I figured fuck it, I'd gone this far. I won't regale you with the horror of blending the butter-nut-flour mixture into the eggs, but suffice to say that the contraption looked nothing like batter until the very last stage. I tossed it in the oven and hoped that the damn thing wouldn't explode.

In the end, what I had looked like a cake.



I frosted (well, ganache-d) the sucker and tasted it. And holy hell, it was good.



So, have no fear. Even if everything goes wrong, miracles occur in the oven.

Hazelnut Brown Butter Cake
Stolen from, as usual, Smitten Kitchen
Adapted from Sunday Suppers at Lucques (I must have this cookbook.)

Chef Goin served this as her wedding cake. I have learned that anything served as a wedding cake by someone who cooks is AMAZING.

5 ounces (about one heaping cup) hazelnuts, blanched to remove dark skins*
1/2 pound unsalted butter (plus 1 tablespoon melted extra for greasing the pan)
1/2 vanilla bean
1 1/3 cups powdered sugar, plus extra for dusting the cake
1/3 cups all-purpose flour
5 extra-large egg whites (I used 6 since I was using
large eggs)
3 tablespoons granulated sugar

Preheat oven to 350 °F.

Spread the hazelnuts on a baking sheet, and toast 12 to 15 minutes, until they’re golden brown and smell nutty. Let them cool.

Cut out a circle of parchment paper to fit in the bottom of a 10-inch round cake pan. Brush the pan with a little melted butter and line the bottom with the paper.

Place the rest of the butter in a medium saucepan. Slice the vanilla bean lengthwise down the center, and using a paring knife to scrape the seeds and pulp onto the butter. To make sure not to lose any of the seeds, run your vanilla-coated knife through the butter. Add the vanilla pod to the pan, and cook the butter until the butter browns and smells nutty (about 6 to 8 minutes). It helps to frequently scrape the solids off the bottom of the pan in the last couple minutes to ensure even browning. Set aside to cool. Remove the vanilla pod and discard.

Grind the hazelnuts with the confectioners’ sugar in a food processor until they’re finely ground. Add the flour and pulse to combine. Transfer to a large bowl.

Place the egg whites in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Add the granulated sugar and mix on high speed 4 to 5 minutes, until the mixture forms very stiff peaks. When you turn the whisk upside down, the peaks should hold. Transfer the whites to a large mixing bowl.

Alternate folding the dry ingredients and the brown butter into the egg whites, a third of a time. Remember to scrap the bottom of the brown butter pan with a rubber spatula to get all the little brown bits.

Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan, and bake for 50 minutes to 1 hour**. Cool on a rack 30 minutes. Run a knife around the inside edge of the pan, and invert the cake onto a plate. Peel off the paper, and turn the cake back over onto a serving platter. Sprinkle it with powdered sugar or cover with ganache (below).

* Do not fear if your blanching-and-rubbing or your roasting-and-scrubbing doesn't yield perfectly naked nuts. It's okay. Keep going.

** Mine was done at 40 minutes so check yours even earlier, okay?

Draping Ganache for 10-inch Cake

4 ounces semisweet chocolate chips or finely-chopped chocolate
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon instant coffee granules

Melt the chocolate, heavy cream, and coffee in the top of a double boiler over simmering water until smooth and warm, stirring occasionally. Spread over the top of the cake.

chocolate idiot cake

This cake was supposed to be so easy that an idiot could make it. However, this cake made me feel like an idiot instead.



First, it's made in a springform pan and baked in a water bath. If your pan isn't waterproof (and whose really is?) you're supposed to wrap it in foil. This sounds easy until you realize that the foil isn't really big enough and you have to improvise with many pieces until you end up with a frankenpan that is only marginally more waterproof than before.



Once that's done, making the batter is easy. Chocolate, butter, sugar, eggs. You're done. Pour it into the pan, put the pan into a roasting pan, fill the roasting pan with hot water, and into the oven for an hour and fifteen minutes. When it's just set and you can touch the top gently and come away with a clean finger, you're done.

Well, I checked mine at an hour and fifteen. Liquid. An hour and a half? Still liquid. I checked it every ten minutes and finally, after more than two hours (I lost track of the time) the cake was mostly set and I could touch parts of the top and come away with a clean fingertip, so I called it good and pulled it out. I let it cool, said a prayer, and hoped for the best.



It was worth it. The cake is like silk. It melts in your mouth. It's lighter than a truffle, but just as rich. It's everything I ever wanted in a dessert. The cake sweats butter. How could I not love it? I know an easier version of this cake-- which I will post, the next time I make it--but I confess, the texture of this one is better by far. Silk, I'm telling you. Make it, just once. You won't regret it. I took it to school to share, and I ended up with two pieces left over. Justin got up in the middle of the night and ate them both--sneaky bastard! I'm still plotting my revenge.

Chocolate Idiot Cake
courtesy of David Lebovitz
One 9-inch (23 cm) cake

This cake is extremely rich, and tastes like the most delicious, silkiest, most supremely-chocolate ganache you've ever had. As mentioned, it's equally good a few days later, and only an idiot could possibly mess it up. You don't need to use ScharffenBerger chocolate for this cake, but use a good one—you'll appreciate it when you taste your first melt-in-your-mouth bite.

10 ounces (290 gr) ScharffenBerger bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped. (I used Trader Joe's bittersweet chocolate, and it was fine.)
7 ounces (200 gr) butter, salted or unsalted, cut into pieces (Use the richest butter you can afford.)
5 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup (200 gr) sugar


Preheat the oven to 350F (175 C).

1. Butter a 9-inch (23 cm) springform pan* and dust it with cocoa powder, tapping out any excess. If you suspect your springform pan isn't 100% water-tight, wrap the outside with aluminum foil, making sure it goes all the way up to the outer rim.

2. Melt the chocolate and butter in a double boiler (or microwave), stirring occasionally, until smooth. Remove from heat.

3. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs and sugar, then whisk in the melted chocolate mixture until smooth.

4. Pour the batter into the prepared springform pan and cover the top of the pan snugly with a sheet of foil. Put the springform pan into a larger baking pan, such as a roasting pan, and add enough hot water to the baking pan to come about halfway up to the outside of the cake pan.

Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes. (Ha! If it takes two and a half hours, don't fret.)

You'll know the cake is done when it feels just set, like quivering chocolate pudding. If you gently touch the center, your finger should come away clean.

5. Lift the cake pan from the water bath and remove the foil. Let cake cool completely on a cooling rack.

Serve thin wedges of this very rich cake at room temperature, with creme anglaise, ice cream, or whipped cream. (I used creme fraiche, but really, it doesn't need a thing.)

orange-chocolate cake

I first made this cake months ago, thinking that it would make a good breakfast. It was good, I guess, but I wasn't that into it. My friends and boyfriend ate it up, but something aboout grapefruit (which I love) in a cake didn't do it for me. Then, smitten kitchen posted another version of the cake, with lemons and blueberries.



The cake itself is good-- light and tender, very moist thanks to the yogurt, but not too rich at all. In her post on the lemon version, she reminded me that you really can put anything you damn well please into the cake. And then she suggested one of my favorite combos ever: orange and chocolate.



I remember looking at a recipe for an orange-chocolate cake once that I wrote off as too much work. But tossing some zest and chips into this cake was, well, a piece of cake.



I could hardly wait for it to cool, (and in fact I didn't-- it was still a bit warm on first bite) I was so excited for orangey-chocolate goodness. Alas. Underwhelmed again. I don't know what it is-- I think the citrus in this cake just makes it feel sort of plasticy/waxy to me somehow. I may try the cake again without flavoring to see if it's the cake I'm reacting to or the citrus, but suffice to say I am sad.



My boyfriend isn't--he polished off the cake.



Orange-Chocolate Cake Adapted from Ina Garten

1 1/2 cups + 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour (if you’re skipping the fruit, you can also skip the last tablespoon of flour)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
3 extra-large eggs
2 teaspoons grated orange zest
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract (i was out and used almond torani syrup)
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups chocolate chips
1/3 cup freshly squeezed orange juice

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease an 8 1/2 by 4 1/4 by 2 1/2-inch loaf pan. Line the bottom with parchment paper. Grease and flour the pan.

Sift together 1 1/2 cups flour, baking powder, and salt into 1 bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, zest, vanilla and oil. Slowly whisk the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients. Fold the chips very gently into the batter. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for about 50 (+) minutes, or until a cake tester placed in the center of the loaf comes out clean.

Meanwhile, cook the 1/3 cup orange juice and remaining 1 tablespoon sugar in a small pan until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is clear. Set aside.

When the cake is done, allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes before flipping out onto a cooling rack. Carefully place on a baking rack over a sheet pan. While the cake is still warm, pour the lemon-sugar mixture over the cake and allow it to soak in (a pastry brush works great for this, as does using a toothpick to make tiny holes that draw the syrup in better). Cool.