Elaborate cakes were back on the agenda this month for the Daring Bakers. Host Mele Cotte chose the filbert gateau with praline buttercream from Great Cakes by Carol Walter. Filbert appears to be an American name for hazelnuts. I think hazelnuts and chocolate make a great combination so was looking forward to this cake. It was a detailed cake, not difficult, but one that involved numerous preparation steps for each part before it could all be assembled. The good thing was that each part could be prepared in advance and then the cake assembled on the day you wanted to serve it, so that saved a lot of pressure and angst.
The individual parts of this cake were the filbert gateau, sugar syrup, praline buttercream (which involved making praline and buttercream separately), whipped cream, apricot glaze and ganache glaze. As I mentioned, when broken down into parts, this cake was not difficult to make but it involved time, large quantities of eggs and sugar and many dishes!
The filbert gateau involved processing toasted and skinned hazelnuts with flour and cornflour to make a fine, powdery mixture. Seven egg yolks were whisked with sugar until ribbony and they were then added to beaten egg whites before the hazelnut mixture was folded in. The result was a lovely, dense nutty cake. This was split into three and each individual piece moistened with sugar syrup before being joined together with the praline buttercream.
I ran into some problems with the praline buttercream. I have a lot of recipes for praline but have never actually made it, so I was glad to have the opportunity to try. It was quite easy - melting sugar, stirring in hazelnuts to coat with caramel and tipping onto a baking tray to let cool. I think I left the sugar a fraction too long, as it was quite dark and had a slightly burnt taste but this is a process that will be refined with practice.
So the praline was not the problem but the buttercream was. I used the measurements given, which were US measurements and may not have strictly translated to Australian measurements. To make, egg whites were whisked until foamy and thick and then whisked over boiling water until the whites were warm and the sugar dissolved. Nearly 400g of butter was separately beaten until smooth and creamy and the meringue was then blended in separately to make a thick and creamy buttercream. So far, so good. Then I added the 1-2 tablespoons of liqueur and the mixture split. Despite following the emergency instructions on how to make the buttercream come back together, it didn't work and became a gluggy, buttery mess. Although it looked awful, I couldn't justify throwing such a large amount of butter out, so I added icing sugar and a little cocoa and this saved the icing, making it stick together and taste like icing rather than butter. I've tried a similar buttercream recipe in a previous DB challenge and haven't been happy with the results, so I think I'll stick with my trusty Australian Women's Weekly vienna buttercream in future. I also ran the recipe past a chef friend to see if he could give me some advice on where I went wrong but he thought the method sounded odd and said that he would normally make a butter icing or a meringue icing but not combine the both. Perhaps this shows the difference in Australian and American recipes, methods and palates. Any advice from American cooks will be gratefully received!
Once the buttercream was saved, I sandwiched the gateau portions together with the buttercream, with some whipped cream on top and then made the chocolate ganache, which is my favourite part. Cream and a tablespoon of corn syrup are heated and poured over grated dark chocolate to make a luscious thick glaze to dribble over the cake.
I took the finished cake along to share as dessert with my table at a fundraising trivia night. Everyone thought it looked like tiramisu but it didn't taste at all like tiramisu. It was a very nice cake and was quickly devoured but we all thought it was too sweet for our tastebuds. Only small pieces are needed and I thought that sandwiching the cake together with buttercream and whipped cream was too much - one or the other would have been enough. With the amount of effort that went into making this cake, and the fact that it really was far too sweet, I don't think that I will make it again. But I enjoyed the process and could see adaptations for this cake to adjust it to my palate - moistening the gateau slices with coffee syrup and sandwiching with a small amount of whipped cream before icing with ganache is an alternative I'd like to try.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Food in times of need
Food is often associated with major milestones in our lives. Sometimes it takes centre stage - for example, at a birthday party or a celebratory afternoon tea - and other times it is a side event, although still extremely important, such as gathering for a cuppa after a funeral. Lots of thought may go into planning for the event, such as choosing the birthday cake and accompanying menu or baking pink-iced cupcakes for a baby shower, and others may be as simple as everyone bringing a plate of something, whether a packet of Tim-Tams or a home-baked cake, to share. It is the ritual, the passing around of plates, the making of tea and coffee, the informality that comes with chatting while nibbling, that is important.
The offering of food is also an important source of comfort for those in time of need; to ease the burden of cooking from sleep-deprived new mums or friends grieving serious illnesses or deaths in the family. We need to fuel ourselves to keep going but sometimes the thought of grocery shopping and cooking is the last thing we want to do, particularly if time is in short supply. A dish of food, whether a soup or casserole or even a sweet treat like chocolate biscuits, is always appreciated.
Lately I've been baking many dishes of lasagna, which has somehow become my signature dish for friends in times of need. Two of my friends have recently given birth to their second child, while some family friends are grieving a very serious illness in their family that means most of their time is spent at the hospital. I have no Italian heritage and my lasagna is not a fancy or special recipe but it is a hearty dish that lasts for several meals, tastes even better the next day, and is easy to make and transport. When I was growing up, friends and neighbours were always quick to rally around anyone who needed help and mountains of food would be prepared and dropped off. It is such a simple act of kindness but it helps foster goodwill and a sense of community
MY LASAGNA
To make the meat sauce, finely chop two onions and several cloves of garlic and saute in oil in a heated saucepan. Crumble in 500g mince beef and brown. Add one tub of tomato paste and one 400g tin of chopped tomatoes, mix well and simmer for about 20 minutes
To make the cheese sauce, melt two tablespoons of butter in a saucepan. Stir in two to three tablespoons of plain flour to make a roux. Slowly add two cups of milk and cook over low to medium heat until the mixture thickens. Remove from heat and stir through 250g grated mozzarella cheese and some salt and pepper.
To assemble the lasagna, spread some meat sauce over the base of a baking dish. Layer with lasagna sheets, then cheese sauce. Repeat layers until the meat and cheese sauces are used up, finishing with cheese sauce. Sprinkle a generous amount of grated parmesan over the top and bake in a 180 degree oven for about 35 minutes.
This mixture can be doubled or even tripled and can be frozen.
Lately I've been baking many dishes of lasagna, which has somehow become my signature dish for friends in times of need. Two of my friends have recently given birth to their second child, while some family friends are grieving a very serious illness in their family that means most of their time is spent at the hospital. I have no Italian heritage and my lasagna is not a fancy or special recipe but it is a hearty dish that lasts for several meals, tastes even better the next day, and is easy to make and transport. When I was growing up, friends and neighbours were always quick to rally around anyone who needed help and mountains of food would be prepared and dropped off. It is such a simple act of kindness but it helps foster goodwill and a sense of community
MY LASAGNA
To make the meat sauce, finely chop two onions and several cloves of garlic and saute in oil in a heated saucepan. Crumble in 500g mince beef and brown. Add one tub of tomato paste and one 400g tin of chopped tomatoes, mix well and simmer for about 20 minutes
To make the cheese sauce, melt two tablespoons of butter in a saucepan. Stir in two to three tablespoons of plain flour to make a roux. Slowly add two cups of milk and cook over low to medium heat until the mixture thickens. Remove from heat and stir through 250g grated mozzarella cheese and some salt and pepper.
To assemble the lasagna, spread some meat sauce over the base of a baking dish. Layer with lasagna sheets, then cheese sauce. Repeat layers until the meat and cheese sauces are used up, finishing with cheese sauce. Sprinkle a generous amount of grated parmesan over the top and bake in a 180 degree oven for about 35 minutes.
This mixture can be doubled or even tripled and can be frozen.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Daring Bakers - Danish braid
I'm running behind schedule but here, finally, is my post for the June Daring Bakers challenge: Danish braid. I've never made puff pastry before, or this Danish dough, which is from the same family of butter-laminated (or layered) doughs. Unlike puff pastry though, Danish dough is sweet and yeast-leavened. It's also less complicated to make.
The actual process of making Danish dough is quite simple, especially if you have a stand mixer, but it also requires time. Unlike bread dough, which can be left alone to prove for several hours, Danish dough needs to be turned and rolled every 30 minutes at least four times, meaning you need to stay nearby.
This recipe's method was to mix yeast and milk in a mixmaster, add sugar, orange zest, cardamom, vanilla, eggs and orange juice. Then, flour and salt are added and the mixture kneaded with a dough hook for about five minutes. The dough (known as 'detrempe') is refrigerated for 30 minutes. Although my usual method is to mix the yeast and milk together and let it sit for about 15 minutes to activate, I followed the recipe's instructions. Because I wasn't sure how much this dough was supposed to rise (compared with bread dough), I thought it would be better if I didn't deviate.
While the detrempe is chilling, butter and a small portion of flour are mixed together in the mixmaster to a smooth, lumpfree mixture to form a butter block known as 'beurrage'. The detrempe is rolled out into a large rectangle and the beurrage spread over the centre and right-third of the dough. The left third is folded over to the centre and the right side is folded over that (similar to folding a business letter). This is the first turn. This process is repeated three more times, with the dough resting in the fridge for 30 minutes before each turn. After the fourth and final turn, it's refrigerated overnight.
You can use many varieties of fillings for a Danish braid but the one given for this recipe was for caramelised apples, made by cooking chopped apples, sugar, cinnamon, vanilla lemon juice and butter. The dough was rolled out into a large rectangle and the cooled caramelised apples spread down the centre. To make the braid, five-inch cuts are made (about one inch apart) on each side of the rectangle, then folded over the filling like a plait. The instructions for this recipe made it sound more difficult than it was - it was quite easy to come up with the finished product, which looked very impressive. The braid is proved for at least two hours and then baked.
The end result was delicious. I've never made or eaten anything like this before and my taste-testers all enjoyed it. We liked the spiciness of the cardamom in the dough, which paired beautifully with the caramelised apple.
Although this recipe was not difficult, it was time-consuming and is not the sort of thing you could whip up quickly on a whim. If you were organised and made the dough and filling a day earlier, and got up early to make the braid and let it prove, it would be nice for a weekend brunch. I would like to make this again but would definitely need to be more organised! Thanks to Kellypea and Arimou for hosting this month's challenge. It was a good one!
The actual process of making Danish dough is quite simple, especially if you have a stand mixer, but it also requires time. Unlike bread dough, which can be left alone to prove for several hours, Danish dough needs to be turned and rolled every 30 minutes at least four times, meaning you need to stay nearby.
This recipe's method was to mix yeast and milk in a mixmaster, add sugar, orange zest, cardamom, vanilla, eggs and orange juice. Then, flour and salt are added and the mixture kneaded with a dough hook for about five minutes. The dough (known as 'detrempe') is refrigerated for 30 minutes. Although my usual method is to mix the yeast and milk together and let it sit for about 15 minutes to activate, I followed the recipe's instructions. Because I wasn't sure how much this dough was supposed to rise (compared with bread dough), I thought it would be better if I didn't deviate.
While the detrempe is chilling, butter and a small portion of flour are mixed together in the mixmaster to a smooth, lumpfree mixture to form a butter block known as 'beurrage'. The detrempe is rolled out into a large rectangle and the beurrage spread over the centre and right-third of the dough. The left third is folded over to the centre and the right side is folded over that (similar to folding a business letter). This is the first turn. This process is repeated three more times, with the dough resting in the fridge for 30 minutes before each turn. After the fourth and final turn, it's refrigerated overnight.
You can use many varieties of fillings for a Danish braid but the one given for this recipe was for caramelised apples, made by cooking chopped apples, sugar, cinnamon, vanilla lemon juice and butter. The dough was rolled out into a large rectangle and the cooled caramelised apples spread down the centre. To make the braid, five-inch cuts are made (about one inch apart) on each side of the rectangle, then folded over the filling like a plait. The instructions for this recipe made it sound more difficult than it was - it was quite easy to come up with the finished product, which looked very impressive. The braid is proved for at least two hours and then baked.
The end result was delicious. I've never made or eaten anything like this before and my taste-testers all enjoyed it. We liked the spiciness of the cardamom in the dough, which paired beautifully with the caramelised apple.
Although this recipe was not difficult, it was time-consuming and is not the sort of thing you could whip up quickly on a whim. If you were organised and made the dough and filling a day earlier, and got up early to make the braid and let it prove, it would be nice for a weekend brunch. I would like to make this again but would definitely need to be more organised! Thanks to Kellypea and Arimou for hosting this month's challenge. It was a good one!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Fabulous fondue
Fondue seems to be everywhere at the moment. The darling of the 1970s dinner party scene is trendy once again. A divine photo of fondue, thick cheese decadently dripping down the side of a copper saucepan, was on the front cover of the June Delicious magazine, and fondue featured in last week's special cheese issue of Epicure.
Back in May, just before fondue started being appearing everywhere, we had an authentic Swiss fondue at the home of Swiss-Australian cousins of my friend Fi. Having grown up with chocolate fondue as a special dessert (is there anything more delicious than dipping soft marshmallows or strawberries into a pot of bubbling melted chocolate), it was a great treat to sample a proper cheese fondue. Evi and Laurent were bemused to hear about chocolate fondue, never having come across it before. Their cheese version, however, was a more than adequate compensation. Made from a blend of melted gruyere and emmenthal cheese, cornflour, kirsch and garlic, the aroma from the two fondue pots at each end of the table was enticing. Evi had huge baskets of sourdough bread chunks, sturdy enough to stand up to the strong cheese, which she passed around the table. Laurent also had small bowls filled with kirsch; for those who liked an extra kick, the bread was first dipped into the kirsch and then into the fondue.
While the thought of so much melted cheese might sound overwhelming, its richness is cut by the kirsch and garlic, leaving a pleasant aftertaste. Fondue is basically an elaborate meal of bread and cheese but lifted to another level, and the communal pots (it's an unwritten rule of etiquette that you never double-dip) gives the table a convivial atmosphere that encourages a more open conversation between everyone, rather than restricting it to your near neighbours. The warmth of the dish conjures up images of cold, snowy nights in Switzerland, where a bowl of bubbling fondue would warm you inside and out.
Adam and I were given a fondue set for our engagement a few years ago but have yet to use it. Armed with Evi and Laurent's recipe, though (there's no exact measurements, as it really depends on how many you're making the fondue for), and with memories of a good night out, we're keen to host our own fondue night this winter. Chocolate fondue may never get a look in again!
Back in May, just before fondue started being appearing everywhere, we had an authentic Swiss fondue at the home of Swiss-Australian cousins of my friend Fi. Having grown up with chocolate fondue as a special dessert (is there anything more delicious than dipping soft marshmallows or strawberries into a pot of bubbling melted chocolate), it was a great treat to sample a proper cheese fondue. Evi and Laurent were bemused to hear about chocolate fondue, never having come across it before. Their cheese version, however, was a more than adequate compensation. Made from a blend of melted gruyere and emmenthal cheese, cornflour, kirsch and garlic, the aroma from the two fondue pots at each end of the table was enticing. Evi had huge baskets of sourdough bread chunks, sturdy enough to stand up to the strong cheese, which she passed around the table. Laurent also had small bowls filled with kirsch; for those who liked an extra kick, the bread was first dipped into the kirsch and then into the fondue.
While the thought of so much melted cheese might sound overwhelming, its richness is cut by the kirsch and garlic, leaving a pleasant aftertaste. Fondue is basically an elaborate meal of bread and cheese but lifted to another level, and the communal pots (it's an unwritten rule of etiquette that you never double-dip) gives the table a convivial atmosphere that encourages a more open conversation between everyone, rather than restricting it to your near neighbours. The warmth of the dish conjures up images of cold, snowy nights in Switzerland, where a bowl of bubbling fondue would warm you inside and out.
Adam and I were given a fondue set for our engagement a few years ago but have yet to use it. Armed with Evi and Laurent's recipe, though (there's no exact measurements, as it really depends on how many you're making the fondue for), and with memories of a good night out, we're keen to host our own fondue night this winter. Chocolate fondue may never get a look in again!
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Soup for the soul
There is nothing more soothing for the soul than a bowl of hot soup. Outside, the temperature may plummet, icy winds whistle around the house or rain drum on the roof, but if you feast on a steaming bowl of soup, it feels as if the winter freeze could never touch you.
Not only is soup nourishing mentally, it's also good for you, usually being chockful of vegetables, and it's a cinch to put together. Some soups require long simmering times but others can be on your table as soon as the vegetables are cooked, making it an easy dish to fortify you when you're feeling poorly, under the weather or just in need of some pepping up.
I love that soup also requires minimal equipment: a chopping board and sharp knife to prepare, and a saucepan and wooden spoon to cook. There's an endless variety of soups to choose from: velvety veloutes that make an elegant start to a dinner party; pureed vegetables sharpened with a hint of spice for a liquid burst of healthiness; and chunky vegetable and lentil or minestrone or ribollita, which are meals in themselves. Soup can be served on its own, perhaps with some buttery toast soldiers, or you can serve with accompaniments such as croutons or dumplings. You can follow a recipe or make up your own version as the fancy takes you. Best of all, most soups are forgiving of ingredients, meaning you can substitute whatever is in your pantry.
Melbourne's winter this year seems colder than previous years and we've already treated ourselves to many soups, including smooth pumpkin, chunky minestrone, a hearty vegetable and lentil soup and classic tomato. My latest favourite cookbook, The Australian Women's Weekly Winter Favourites, featuring an irresistible chocolate pudding on the front cover, includes a recipe for ribollita or Tuscan bean soup. It requires lengthy cooking time, so on a cold weekend afternoon, it was the perfect soup to have simmering on the stove. Despite the cooking time, this soup needs minimal effort and you will be fortified for days after eating it.
TUSCAN BEAN SOUP (RIBOLLITA)
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 medium onions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
200g piece speck, bacon or pancetta, chopped
2 medium carrots, chopped
2 sticks celery, chopped
2 x 400g cans tomatoes
1/4 medium Savoy cabbage, shredded
1 medium zucchini, chopped
2 sprigs fresh thyme
2 cups beef consomme or stock
2 litres water
400g can borlotti beans, rinsed, drained
salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 thick slices ciabatta
extra virgin olive oil for serving
Heat oil in a large saucepan or stock pot. Add onion, garlic and speck, cook, stirring, 5 minutes or until onion is soft.
Add carrots, celery, undrained crushed tomatoes, cabbage, zucchini, thyme, consomme and water. Bring to the boil and simmer, uncovered, for 2 hours.
Add beans, simmer, uncovered, for 20 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Meanwhile, toast or grill bread.
Place a slice of bread in base of six serving bowls, top with soup and drizzle with extra virgin olive oil.
Recipe from The Australian Women's Weekly Winter Favourites
Not only is soup nourishing mentally, it's also good for you, usually being chockful of vegetables, and it's a cinch to put together. Some soups require long simmering times but others can be on your table as soon as the vegetables are cooked, making it an easy dish to fortify you when you're feeling poorly, under the weather or just in need of some pepping up.
I love that soup also requires minimal equipment: a chopping board and sharp knife to prepare, and a saucepan and wooden spoon to cook. There's an endless variety of soups to choose from: velvety veloutes that make an elegant start to a dinner party; pureed vegetables sharpened with a hint of spice for a liquid burst of healthiness; and chunky vegetable and lentil or minestrone or ribollita, which are meals in themselves. Soup can be served on its own, perhaps with some buttery toast soldiers, or you can serve with accompaniments such as croutons or dumplings. You can follow a recipe or make up your own version as the fancy takes you. Best of all, most soups are forgiving of ingredients, meaning you can substitute whatever is in your pantry.
Melbourne's winter this year seems colder than previous years and we've already treated ourselves to many soups, including smooth pumpkin, chunky minestrone, a hearty vegetable and lentil soup and classic tomato. My latest favourite cookbook, The Australian Women's Weekly Winter Favourites, featuring an irresistible chocolate pudding on the front cover, includes a recipe for ribollita or Tuscan bean soup. It requires lengthy cooking time, so on a cold weekend afternoon, it was the perfect soup to have simmering on the stove. Despite the cooking time, this soup needs minimal effort and you will be fortified for days after eating it.
TUSCAN BEAN SOUP (RIBOLLITA)
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 medium onions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
200g piece speck, bacon or pancetta, chopped
2 medium carrots, chopped
2 sticks celery, chopped
2 x 400g cans tomatoes
1/4 medium Savoy cabbage, shredded
1 medium zucchini, chopped
2 sprigs fresh thyme
2 cups beef consomme or stock
2 litres water
400g can borlotti beans, rinsed, drained
salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 thick slices ciabatta
extra virgin olive oil for serving
Heat oil in a large saucepan or stock pot. Add onion, garlic and speck, cook, stirring, 5 minutes or until onion is soft.
Add carrots, celery, undrained crushed tomatoes, cabbage, zucchini, thyme, consomme and water. Bring to the boil and simmer, uncovered, for 2 hours.
Add beans, simmer, uncovered, for 20 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Meanwhile, toast or grill bread.
Place a slice of bread in base of six serving bowls, top with soup and drizzle with extra virgin olive oil.
Recipe from The Australian Women's Weekly Winter Favourites
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Magazine inspiration
I love it when I arrive home from work and the latest issue of a food magazine has arrived in the mail that day. I especially love it in winter, when the cover usually features a mouthwatering photograph of a luscious pudding or a rich winter stew. I love to tuck myself away with a hot drink and spend a good hour or two reading through the magazine, noting the latest recipes and decorating the pages with sticky-notes marking all the dishes I want to try.
The winter issue of Donna Hay Magazine has just arrived. The chocolate and oat s'mores on the front cover are just a small snippet of a great issue. I thought some of the recent DHM issues had got a little uninspiring but the last two issues have been absolute crackers and I've wanted to make nearly everything featured. After flicking through the magazine, I'm already planning to make celeriac roulade and celeriac and potato soup, spinach macaroni cheese, beef, tomato and mushroom pot pies, lamb and garlic meatballs that can be used on pizzas, in soup or mixed in with herbed couscous, roast meats, hot cheese toasties and chips out of all sorts of vegetables.
Inspiration strikes as soon as I reach page 78, which features self-saucing chocolate puddings. My favourite chocolate pudding recipe is my grandmother's recipe but it takes 45 minutes in the oven, whereas these individual puddings take just 15 minutes. Before I can even think "mmm, chocolate pudding", I've already pulled out the bowl and am mixing together the ingredients for the puddings. In less than half an hour, my craving for chocolate and a hot pudding is satisfied. I'm looking forward to more inspiration from DHM this month!
SELF-SAUCING CHOCOLATE PUDDINGS
75g plain flour
1 1/2 tablespoons hazelnut meal
45g brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3 1/2 tablespoons coca, sifted
125ml milk
35g butter, melted
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
90g brown sugar, extra
250ml boiling water
Preheat oven to 180 degrees. Sift the flour, hazelnut meal, sugar, baking powder and 2 tablespoons of coca into a bowl. Add the milk, melted butter, egg and vanilla and mix well to combine. Spoon into 4 x 1-cup capacity oven-proof dishes and place on a baking tray. Mix the extra sugar and cocoa into a bowl and sprinkle over the puddings, then pour over the boiling water. Bake for 12-15 minutes or until the tops are firm.
From Donna Hay Magazine, issue 39, Jun/Jul 2008.
The winter issue of Donna Hay Magazine has just arrived. The chocolate and oat s'mores on the front cover are just a small snippet of a great issue. I thought some of the recent DHM issues had got a little uninspiring but the last two issues have been absolute crackers and I've wanted to make nearly everything featured. After flicking through the magazine, I'm already planning to make celeriac roulade and celeriac and potato soup, spinach macaroni cheese, beef, tomato and mushroom pot pies, lamb and garlic meatballs that can be used on pizzas, in soup or mixed in with herbed couscous, roast meats, hot cheese toasties and chips out of all sorts of vegetables.
Inspiration strikes as soon as I reach page 78, which features self-saucing chocolate puddings. My favourite chocolate pudding recipe is my grandmother's recipe but it takes 45 minutes in the oven, whereas these individual puddings take just 15 minutes. Before I can even think "mmm, chocolate pudding", I've already pulled out the bowl and am mixing together the ingredients for the puddings. In less than half an hour, my craving for chocolate and a hot pudding is satisfied. I'm looking forward to more inspiration from DHM this month!
SELF-SAUCING CHOCOLATE PUDDINGS
75g plain flour
1 1/2 tablespoons hazelnut meal
45g brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3 1/2 tablespoons coca, sifted
125ml milk
35g butter, melted
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
90g brown sugar, extra
250ml boiling water
Preheat oven to 180 degrees. Sift the flour, hazelnut meal, sugar, baking powder and 2 tablespoons of coca into a bowl. Add the milk, melted butter, egg and vanilla and mix well to combine. Spoon into 4 x 1-cup capacity oven-proof dishes and place on a baking tray. Mix the extra sugar and cocoa into a bowl and sprinkle over the puddings, then pour over the boiling water. Bake for 12-15 minutes or until the tops are firm.
From Donna Hay Magazine, issue 39, Jun/Jul 2008.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Daring Bakers challenge - L'Opera Cake
It was another sweet month for the Daring Bakers, with the elegant French dessert L'Opera Cake on the menu. Believed to have been created around the beginning of the 1900s, L'Opera Cake is usually made of five components: a joconde (a cake layer), a syrup (to wet the joconde), a buttercream (to fill some of the layers), a ganache or mousse (to top the final layer) and a glaze (to cover the final layer).
When I read initially read the recipe, it seemed long and daunting. However, once I broke it down into the separate steps, it was quite simple and didn't take too long to put together. While I would not recommend trying to whip this cake up in a hurry, you could certainly put it together during the day for an elegant dinner party dessert. As the joconde and syrup keep well, you could make those the day before (which is what I did) to make it even easier to put together.
Traditionally, a joconde is flavoured with darker flavours such as chocolate or coffee. But this month's hosts, Lis and Ivonne (DB founders) and Fran and Shea, decided to celebrate their start of spring with L'Opera Cakes that are light in both colour and flavour (ie no chocolate or coffee but vanilla, coconut, lemon or almond).
The joconde was simple to make, being a mixture of egg whites (whipped to a meringue), ground almonds, icing sugar, eggs and butter. It made a lovely light sponge cake that cooked in under 10 minutes and had a moreish nutty flavour. The joconde was made in two lamington tins, so it wasn't a very high cake, but it was sliced up and layered into thirds, so the thickness was just right.
The joconde was moistened with a light sugar syrup that I flavoured with brandy (not having any cognac on hand). Although it was only a small serving, it made far too much for this cake, so I need to find some good use for excess sugar syrup as I didn't know what to do with the leftovers.
The buttercream was not hard to make but was quite fiddly. It involved making a hot sugar syrup (heated to 124 C on a candy thermometer) that was poured into beaten eggs and whipped, before a great mass (200g) of softened butter was beaten in until the buttercream was thick and shiny. I found a lot of my sugar syrup hardened into the bottom of my KitchenAid mixing bowl, so I'm not sure how much of the syrup was incorporated into the buttercream. The final product was thick and tasty but I think next time I might use my basic buttercream (butter and icing sugar) from the trusty old Women's Weekly cookbooks. I don't think it will have the same lightness of texture but it will certainly be quicker and faster to make.
I decided to omit the white chocolate mousse from this cake, as I felt that the cake was already loaded with calories and expense (a dozen eggs, loads of butter and sugar, plus several blocks of white chocolate if I made the mousse and glaze). The mousse was an optional extra for this challenge anyway.
The final step was to assemble the cake and drizzle over the glaze. The joconde was sliced into squares and rectangles, so that it made three layers. I moistened each joconde layer with the syrup, then spread over one-third of the buttercream, finishing with the buttercream on top. I refrigerated the cake for about an hour, until it was quite firm and made the glaze, which was a mixture of melted white chocolate and cream. Owing to a miscalculation on my part (the glaze recipe called for 14oz of white chocolate, which is nearly 500g), I only had 200g of white chocolate but this was enough to cover the cake, albeit thinly. The glaze was cooled and poured over the cake, which was then put into the fridge to chill and set.
The final result was an absolute winner with my tasting panel. It is a rich, special occasion cake, best served in small slices. We felt the cake was quite rich enough with just the buttercream and glaze and I think adding the mousse may have made this cake too sweet for our tastes. It is an expensive cake to make and does take time and effort but it is certainly worth it if you want a show-stopper of a cake for afternoon tea or dessert. You can also pretend you're in Paris when nibbling on a slice because it does have an unmistakeable French air to it - the seeming simplicity of the cake belies the attention that has gone into it behind the scenes.
Congratulations to Lis and Ivonne for choosing such a spectacular cake. Unfortunately my digital camera is broken at the moment, so I can't share photos of my finished product but it turned out wonderfully and I would definitely make this again.
When I read initially read the recipe, it seemed long and daunting. However, once I broke it down into the separate steps, it was quite simple and didn't take too long to put together. While I would not recommend trying to whip this cake up in a hurry, you could certainly put it together during the day for an elegant dinner party dessert. As the joconde and syrup keep well, you could make those the day before (which is what I did) to make it even easier to put together.
Traditionally, a joconde is flavoured with darker flavours such as chocolate or coffee. But this month's hosts, Lis and Ivonne (DB founders) and Fran and Shea, decided to celebrate their start of spring with L'Opera Cakes that are light in both colour and flavour (ie no chocolate or coffee but vanilla, coconut, lemon or almond).
The joconde was simple to make, being a mixture of egg whites (whipped to a meringue), ground almonds, icing sugar, eggs and butter. It made a lovely light sponge cake that cooked in under 10 minutes and had a moreish nutty flavour. The joconde was made in two lamington tins, so it wasn't a very high cake, but it was sliced up and layered into thirds, so the thickness was just right.
The joconde was moistened with a light sugar syrup that I flavoured with brandy (not having any cognac on hand). Although it was only a small serving, it made far too much for this cake, so I need to find some good use for excess sugar syrup as I didn't know what to do with the leftovers.
The buttercream was not hard to make but was quite fiddly. It involved making a hot sugar syrup (heated to 124 C on a candy thermometer) that was poured into beaten eggs and whipped, before a great mass (200g) of softened butter was beaten in until the buttercream was thick and shiny. I found a lot of my sugar syrup hardened into the bottom of my KitchenAid mixing bowl, so I'm not sure how much of the syrup was incorporated into the buttercream. The final product was thick and tasty but I think next time I might use my basic buttercream (butter and icing sugar) from the trusty old Women's Weekly cookbooks. I don't think it will have the same lightness of texture but it will certainly be quicker and faster to make.
I decided to omit the white chocolate mousse from this cake, as I felt that the cake was already loaded with calories and expense (a dozen eggs, loads of butter and sugar, plus several blocks of white chocolate if I made the mousse and glaze). The mousse was an optional extra for this challenge anyway.
The final step was to assemble the cake and drizzle over the glaze. The joconde was sliced into squares and rectangles, so that it made three layers. I moistened each joconde layer with the syrup, then spread over one-third of the buttercream, finishing with the buttercream on top. I refrigerated the cake for about an hour, until it was quite firm and made the glaze, which was a mixture of melted white chocolate and cream. Owing to a miscalculation on my part (the glaze recipe called for 14oz of white chocolate, which is nearly 500g), I only had 200g of white chocolate but this was enough to cover the cake, albeit thinly. The glaze was cooled and poured over the cake, which was then put into the fridge to chill and set.
The final result was an absolute winner with my tasting panel. It is a rich, special occasion cake, best served in small slices. We felt the cake was quite rich enough with just the buttercream and glaze and I think adding the mousse may have made this cake too sweet for our tastes. It is an expensive cake to make and does take time and effort but it is certainly worth it if you want a show-stopper of a cake for afternoon tea or dessert. You can also pretend you're in Paris when nibbling on a slice because it does have an unmistakeable French air to it - the seeming simplicity of the cake belies the attention that has gone into it behind the scenes.
Congratulations to Lis and Ivonne for choosing such a spectacular cake. Unfortunately my digital camera is broken at the moment, so I can't share photos of my finished product but it turned out wonderfully and I would definitely make this again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
