Winter-flowering Cherry Cake / Black Forest Gateau

A friend (the owner of a promptu and excellent specialist liqueur business Alchemist Dreams) had a Winter Foods Party this weekend where everyone had to bring something comforting.  'You make very very tasty puddings,' she said (no word of a lie) so I decided to bring a cake.  At first I thought of Nigella's chocolate marmalade cake, which keeps forever and is very easy to construct indeed as it is all made in a big saucepan.  However although tasty and warming it is not exactly the most flamboyant thing in my repertoire, so as usual when entertainment is called for I decided to make something up.

The following would probably be called a Black Forest Gateau anywhere else.  The last time I tasted home-made BFG was when my mum made one for my brother's forest-themed 5th birthday party.  There was a lovely hand-drawn (by Mum) red squirrel on the invitaitions, and we played many traditional wolf-themed party games.  The cake was I think the most luxurious, foreign and sqodgy thing Mum ever made, and due perhaps to the faff never made it again that I recall. She did save one of the invites from great pride though (it was a brilliant squirrel).

Dark cherries have been at the front of my mind recently for a reason I can't recall, and so this cherry-chocolate concoction with vanilla creamy filling was inspired by Culinaria, Muse of Baking, rather than any one gateau recipe.  By happy chance the combination has already been tested by Germans everywhere for decades, so I couldn't go far wrong.


Winter Flowering Cherry Cake
You Will Need: 20-23cm Springform tin (baking paper and scissors if not non-stick); sharp knife and chopping board, small plate; large bowl, wooden spoon, scales; small saucepan, medium bowl; mug, whisk, fork, breadknife;  serving plates.

200g dark cooking chocolate
70g sugar
100g butter
6 eggs
2 tins pitted black cherries in syrup
100g self-raising flour
dried black cherries
300ml extra thick cream
1tsp vanilla essence

Cake
1) Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C.  If necessary, line your tin with baking paper and grease with a small amount of butter; set aside for later.
2) Take a block of chocolate smooth side up, the sharp knife and chopping board, and small plate.  Scrape the knife towards you gently over the flat surface of the chocolate block to make curls of chocolate.  Set these aside on the small plate and put in the fridge for later. 
3) Melt the remaining chocolate in the medium bowl over a pan quarter-full of boiling water.  Cut the butter into small chunks and add that.  Stir very very gently to melt.  Add the sugar and mix gently.
4) Take four of your eggs, and whisk them in the large bowl until well blended.  Slowly add the chocolate-butter mixture and whisk as you go until well mixed.  Drain the tinned cherries of their syrup; check for any which have been badly pitted, remove any stones and stir them whole into the mixture.  Gradually sprinkle in the flour and mix gently.
5) Pour the lot into the tin and bake at 180 degrees C for about 35 minutes, or to clean-skewer.
6) When the cake is ready, allow it to cool in the tin.  Remove from the tin when cool, and peel off any paper.  Flip the cake onto its serving plate.  When it is compeltely cooled, very gently saw the cake in half with a breadknife.  Shuffle the top half carefully onto another plate - don't try to pick it up, just pull an edge round until the halves separate and you can get the plate underneath the lip. 
Vanilla Filling
6) While the cake is cooling, make the vanilla filling.  Take your remaining two eggs.  Separate the yolks into a small bowl, and the whites into a mug or other container to use for something else (probably meringues).  Add a good heap of caster sugar to the egg yolks, about a tablespoonful, and the vanilla essence.  Beat with a fork.   Whisk in the cream a half at a time until stiff and smooth.
7) Spread the bottom half of the cake with half the vanilla cream.  Plop the other cake half on top gently (you may pick it up with both, widely-spread hands).  Add the rest of the cream to the top in a big central heap  and spread out with a dinner knife until it looks nice and even.
8) Sprinkle the top with the chocolate curls from the fridge.

 Cherry Blossoms
9) Take about 20 dried cherries.  Flatten them out on the board until round.  Make five cuts about 2mm long evenly around the edge of the circle.  Take the sections thus formed and pinch them apart and into points with your fingernails.  Add to the cake decoration.  Store the finished cake in the fridge until half an hour before serving.
10) Serve in 'ooh just a slither' sized pieces to the admiring throng (she said modestly).

Advent

The boy and I were reflecting again recently on how much our culture in Britain has been steeped in Christianity - how it has permeated everyone's cultural consciousness to the point that we no longer notice.  It was brought home to us most recently when we tried to expose some Malaysians to Monty Python by showing them Life of Brian.  It wasn't the weird humour which went over their heads - it was the whole 'Brian is a bit like Jesus lols' thing.  It had just never occurred to us that anyone would be so unfamiliar with the New Testament as to go 'oh, so that's the three wise men is it? oh yeah...'

Christmastime for obvious reasons is another one of these cultural events with a lot of subtle and not-so-subtle Jesus in there to trip the unwary.  But sometimes the Jesusy bits are the best bits.  The above photo is an Advent wreath - the candles are supposed to symbolise key virtues or people, depending on tradition, and are lit one per Sunday in December counting down to Christmas.  Lovely.  Trust the Germans to invent a way of celebrating the birth of Our Lord which involves setting things on fire for an extended period of time.

I've never made an Advent wreath, and we don't have room for one in either of my current residences really, but I am beginning to count the days in my own way.  The present-buying has started, and I am starting to think about the number of biscuits and cakes I should make this year, and what kinds.  I never got round to posting my christmas cake recipe last year, but I have some good ideas for 2011 already. 

I'm looking forward to spending this festive season at home with my family, for the first time in some years.  We're big biscuit-eaters and present-appreciators, and there will be viewing of Muppet DVDs and old friends and emphatically not turkey to eat.  Bliss.  Now all we need is a little snow (and accompanying bucket of grit).

Autumn Leaves

Copyright RondayPhotography

"You know what's weird?"
"What?"
"Walking through dead leaves in flip-flops."

We did have a bit of an Indian summer this year (as I'm sure those in the UK have noticed) and during the heatwave I was comissioned once more to make a birthday cake for my Dad's friend A.  Previous inventions have included an apple-and-Calvados Arctic-themed thing, with meringue icebergs and marzipan polar bear; and last year, a chocolate-orange loaf stack with candied orange slices and candied peely squiggles.  This year I went for an autumnal vibe, because when I'm stuck for a birthday in autumn I go with Nigella Lawson and plump for maple syrup and pecans.  The cake will follow, but I decorated it with these.

Autumn Leaves
You Will Need: Rolling pin, baking tray, greaseproof paper, dinner knife or specially-shaped biscuit cutter, chopping board and knife / food processor, cup, pastry brush

One slab frozen/ready-rolled puff pastry
Plain flour for rolling
Pecan nuts, finely chopped
2 egg yolks
Maple syrup

1) Roll out the puff pastry quite thinly - between 2 and 3mm thick.  Cut, using a knife or specialised implement, into the shape of mapley/chestnut/sycamore leaves, with 5 points, or single tear-shapes.  (n.b. Usually when rolling and cutting pastry, ones saves, balls up and re-rolls out the snippets left behind from the first cutting.  With puff pastry, which is made in layers, this process mixes the layers and causes second-round cut-outs to rise unevenly.  Save any leftover pastry for simple quiches and put it in clingfilm in the freezer.)
2) Lay the leaves onto baking trays lined with greaseproof paper and scattered with flour.
3) Beat the egg yolks in the cup to a uniform consistency.  Brush each leaf with yolk.
4) Chop or blitz the nuts (approx. half a packet for one slablet Waitrose' own puff pastry). Sprinkle over the egged leaves.
5) Very carefully drizzle a smidgen of maple syrup onto the leaves, being careful not to get any on the baking paper if you can.
6) Bake in a hot oven (200 degrees C) for 5-6 minutes, until well risen and golden brown.  When cool, remove from the tray and present or save on a plate to eat as biscuits or use to decorate a cake.  Don't worry if smaller leaves rise oddly and spill over themselves; you can eat those and hide your shame... nom nom nom

Flower Pressing

I had a good old Tidy last week, and was surprised and not a little pleased to find my old flower press and some of its produce tucked away.  The last time I moved house I went round the garden and took a sample of each plant as a memento.  Some of them pressed better than others - white flowers always tend to go brown if they're too fleshy - but I was able to construct a couple of pictures to remind me of past glories.  Last week I found the leaves I hadn't used yet, and reckon they could be kept for greetings cards etc.

I was lucky enough to be given a press, several layers of cardboard and blotting paper in a wooden frame with tightening screws.  You don't need one though - just some slightly absorbent paper to go beneath and above the flowers, a heavy book and another heavy book to weigh it shut.  Be careful how you lay the flowers, as they won't all open out beautifully once you close the pages over them.  Get a few of each kind so that you can pick the best-turned-out for your project.  It'll take a couple of weeks for them to dry out completely.  To stick them to something, use a very very fine scraping of PVA glue on the surface and a DRY, SOFT paintbrush to ease the petals down flat.  Lay them out in a plan before you get sticking, and try a few different arrangements. 

You don't have to make big pieces as above - a single blossom on a small piece of card can be tucked into a clear plastic keyring-dongle.  A silhouette portrait could be enlivened with flowers in the hair or as a border.  Elderly female relatives will appreciate your efforts as cards, and even a plain picture can become more of an abstract collage than a reproduction of a garden.  Don't forget that delicate leaves also work, especially variegated and feathery types.

Now that autumn months are drawing close, nab the last blooms of August while they last, and make them keep!

The Holly and the Ivy

It's a funny carol, isn't it:

The holly and the ivy, when they are both full-grown,
O-of all the trees that are in the wood
Oh the holly bears the crown...


What happened to poor Ivy?  Why even mention it if the only purpose of doing so is to rub in Holly's success by comparison?  I don't know, some people have no manners.

I took a cheeky trip up to the Common today to cut some Christmassy greenery.  Dad had expressed a desire for a windowsill to be 'festived-up a bit' as it was the sill behind our christmas tree.  So, I decided that a wreath-sort-of-thing with evergreens and a big candle in the middle would do.

Things to look out for in the wild:
Holly and Ivy obviously.
Small pine cuttings provide good fluffy-looking filler for an arrangement.
Pinecones to scatter about.
Heather, branches still looking green with plenty of berry-like dead flowerheads.
Gorse - prickly, but if in flower a spectacularly yellow addition (especially if you've been unlucky with holly berries.)
Long branches of birch or beech, to make a framework, especially with catkins attached.

With a bagful of each of these things stuffed to the brim, I headed home and put some newspaper on the floor to get wreathing.  You don't need any wire to hold it together if you get whippy enough silver birch branches and plenty of ivy.  Get your centrepiece or candle and fold a forking branch around it so that it makes the shape of the Pupil of Sauron.  Twiddle the whippy ends together to secure.  With the next long branch put the whippy ends on the other side and fold into the thicker end of the first branch.  Repeat until you've used all your branches.  Sorted.  Now wind ivy creepers around the centre candle and between the birch branches.  With your arrangement secured on all axes you can start stuffing the other bits in as you like, trying to keep it evenly balanced of course.  Peel bottom leaves and spikes off the gorse and holly twigs to allow yourself to handle them easily (wearing gardening gloves helps if you're a bit of a weed.)

Remove the candle to move the arrangement to the desired position, and replace the candle and light it when you're happy with your placing.  Rest pinecones on the leaves judiciously, or scatter them on the surface.  (That's garnish, that is.)