Mimesis and Midnight Chocolate Cake

I read somewhere that Charlie Chaplin once entered a Charlie Chaplin impersonation contest and did not win. I don't know if this story is true but I like it. Something funny happens when we try to be ourselves. Now the Chaplin situation is more complicated I know. He would be impersonating an act, but still. I think about how complicated that could get, and my mind wanders. He would be competing against impersonators who have obsessively "perfected" their outfits, make up, acts... Did their immaculate re-enactments of his work make him uneasy? Did he overdo it or was he too casual? did he get out-Chaplined by the mimics?

Then I think about how strangely we sometimes act when our awareness of ourselves is heightened for some reason. I've struggled to explain this before. I still find it hard to articulate how easy it is to turn into an imitation of yourself when you are in fact aiming for the opposite. It's almost as if when you try to isolate whatever it is that you are, in order to be it, you interrupt the flow of the process of being. I've caught myself in such moments before. I don't like the feeling. It's like wearing wet jeans.

A few weeks ago when Steve was coming to visit me in my little town for a few days I started thinking about this. Just before he got there I looked around me and wondered what my life looks like; what I look like in it. But I quickly distracted myself to help the moment pass for fear of ending up in that hyper-self-conscious state of awkward and anxious mimicry. At midnight Steve told me he was really craving chocolate and I said I'd bake a chocolate cake with the rest of our bottle of red wine. 
-Right now?

-Right now. 
And as we ate our chocolate cake with spoonfuls of whipped cream from a mason jar at two in the morning whilst discussing faith or religion or rationality or god knows what, I thought: If we ever have to audition as ourselves, we should do this scene. I'm pretty certain no one else's rendition could even come close.
 

Chocolate Red Wine Cake 
(bake this cake when someone craves it, for it does not keep well.)

6 tablespoons soft unsalted butter

3/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar

1/4 cup  white granulated sugar

1 large egg + 1 large egg yolk

3/4 cup red wine (we used chianti)

1 teaspoon good vanilla

1 cup + 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour

1/2 cup good cocoa powder

1/8 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 325°F. Line the bottom of a medim round cake pan with parchment paper, and grease the sides.

In a large bowl, using an electric mixer, cream the butter until smooth. Add the sugars and mix until fluffy: 2-3 minutes. Add the egg and yolk and mix well. Then add the red wine and vanilla. The batter will look a little strange but that's fine. 

Sift the flour, cocoa, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon and salt together, right over your wet ingredients. Mix until 3/4 combined, then fold the rest together with a rubber spatula. Spread batter in pan. 

Bake 30 minutes, or until a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean.  Cool in pan on a rack for about 10 minutes, then flip out of pan and cool the rest of the way on a cooling rack. Dust with powdered sugar and eat with whipped cream. 

 

Salted Watermelon, Monday, Magic.

I can explain. Remember how I put salt on the Pear tarts that my bog title alludes to? Remember how it was delicious? This watermelon is no different. It' s sweet, it's lovely, and it wants salt. My friend Dale put this idea in my head. Dale knows his food so we're gonna trust him on this one. Another thing about Dale, is that he is not fond of circular things. In an ideal world, Dale would use square or rectangular plates only. So naturally, if you give Dale a round thing such as a watermelon, he will cut it into... you guessed it: cubes. Well, here is the lovely thing about cubing a watermelon: you get to eat all the scraps! My grilled cheese sandwich at lunch went pretty darn well with these salty cubes of crunch. Try it!


I won't try to write out a recipe for my Grilled Cheese and Salted Watermelon (with greens), because I'm sure you can guess how I made it. What I will do though, is share some tips: if you don't have a sandwich press, cast iron is great for grilling bread. Put some pressure on your sandwich, though. My brilliant system today involved a plate and a full kettle. You could use a plate and a nineteenth century novel. Whatever works...


P.S. I tried to be really discreet about my use of Challah in making the grilled cheese of this post. I though you're so sick of this loaf of bread by now. But then I got a comment on the last post from Amuse- bouche that sent me back to the kitchen. I came back with this tiny grilled chocolate sandwich to have with my espresso. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the sweet sweet conclusion to my lovely loaf of Challah.

Sunny Days, Sunny Thoughts

Once in a while I'll be at a grocery check-out line and a girl with scars on her forearms will give me this knowing look of solidarity and I realize my food scars are being mistaken for self-mutilation. It's an awkward situation. I feel like saying no no that's actually from the convection oven at this one place I worked at, where everyone was taller, and this is from that time I left the tongs on the gas range and forgot they were hot, and that one... the list goes on. Anyway, I don't say any of these things. I just smile and hope she won't hurt herself anymore. I'm baking biscotti in my ridiculously sunny kitchen today with a breeze so nice I have to stop and acknowledge it every few minutes, and I'm wishing I could pack up a little cookie package for all the people I've met who ever needed to be comforted and weren't. Here is a biscotti recipe that will never fail. You must dunk these in coffee or wine, though, as they are of the tougher persuasion.


Spiced Chocolate & Espresso Biscotti
250 g flour
250 g sugar (I use half caster, half brown)
2 beaten eggs
75g chopped dark chocolate
75g chopped nuts
50g crushed espresso beans
pinch each of
salt
cinamon
chili pepper

Preheat the oven to 375

Mix everything together, except the eggs, which you will beat in a separate bowl with a bit of orange zest or vanilla extract, whichever you have or prefer.

Use your hands to bring it all together and form a dough. Try to distribute the nuts and chocolate evenly (but no fuss). If you have a hard time with the dough, put a few tablespoons of olive oil on your hands or in the mix.

Divide your dough, shaping two logs on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Your logs should be about an inch thick. Brush them with a little bit of milk and sprinkle an little extra sugar on top.

Bake the logs for 15 minutes letting them spread, but they should still be soft in the middle. Take them out and lower the oven to 325. Let them cool a little so you can handle them and cut them to your desired size. Arrange them all on the baking sheet again and bake for 10-15minutes more on each side. Watch them though, some ovens will burn your biscotti really fast.

I'm taking a plate down for the ladies working at the hair salon I live above. There's always a pot of coffee on down there...

Post Script: I went over to Sarah's to hang out with the little ones and look what I came home to! I feed the stylists, they hook me up with hair products. This is a functional relationship...

A Trifle confused

This take on trifle is an absolutely offensive dessert and is a totally confused mish-mash of all of the things in our fridge and cupboard that probably shouldn't be eaten alone [espresso, cake, whisky, overripe bananas, whip cream, solid Oaxacan chocolate, and custard) let alone in conjunction or layered in wine glasses and gobbled down after a meal. Anyway, it was killer and I'm not sure that I've ever consumed so many calories so quickly with out even really having to chew, so much as gulp down the goodness. It was either a trifle, or a tiramisu, either way it was delicious, terrible, downright voluptuousness in a cup.
Banana chocolate espresso tiramisu/trifles
[Note: recipe will make two wine goblets full, but double according to how many you need to serve]

6 lady fingers, sliced lengthwise
1/2C espresso, cooled
2 tbsp, whisky, i.e. a shot
1/2C crushed walnuts
1 ripe banana, cut into medallions
1/4 C whipped cream, to top
1/4C chocolate, shaved for garnish

Custard ingredients:
1C milk
2 egg yolks
3 tbsp caster sugar
a drop of vanilla
1/4 Oaxacan chocolate, ground or finely grated

Start off by getting a double boiler going for the custard. Bring the milk to the boiling point but remove before it simmers. In a seperate mixing bowl, beat the egg yolks, sugar and vanilla until light and aerated. Once the milk has cooled to a touchable heat, whisk it, splash by splash, into the egg and sugar mix. Now add the combined ingredients to the top of your double boiler (which should be hot but NOT boiling), whisk constantly for ten or so minutes until mixture thickens to a dolloping consistency, then whisk in the ground chocolate and remove from heat. Run the custard through a strainer to make sure there are no eggy bits and then cool, covered in the fridge.

In each of your serving dishes layer the sliced ladyfingers to cover the bottom (I actually used a leftover poundcake, but anything that will absorb moisture and is relatively unflavoured will do) then coat evenly with the combined espresso and whisky. Let sit for a few minutes to allow the moisture absorb into the cake. Now you're ready to coat with a thin layer of crushed nuts, which will separate the moist cake from the banana medallions that you spread to make the next layer. Get out your cooled custard and add an inch or so thick coating to each portion, then let sit (and any air bubbles rise) while you whip your cream. Dollop the whip cream on top of the custard, and grate on chocolate to top.

Now devour the whole thing immediately awash in gluttony. Or you can chill them for four to six hours until your ready to serve, these are actually a great dessert to make a head of time because they can wait in the fridge almost all day. Just don't keep them overnight or the whip cream will sink into the custard.

Enjoy!

This Salty Pear is Sweet

This recipe for our Pinot Noir poached pear tart with sea salt isn't just our namesake, it has pretty much everything we're about: market fresh fruit, lots of vino, perfect pastry, coarse salt, and chocolate to top it all off. To start you're going to need to get a basket of pears (each tart requires a half pear, so 4 pears will make 8 tarts). We used Anjou because they're still in season and keep their shape well when baked, but you could just as easily use Bartletts.


Recipe: Pinot Noir poached Pear tarts with Sea Salt

4 Anjou pears, poched, halved, then sliced

Poaching liquid

1/2 Bottle of red wine, Pinot Noir, Amarone or a personal favourite
1 large orange, zest and juice of
1 stick of cinnamon
1 vanilla bean, sliced lengthwise
2 to 3 sprigs of fresh mint, rosemary or thyme

Puff pastry

1lb all purpose flour
1lb cold, unsalted butter cut into small cubes
1 teaspoon table salt
1/2 C of heavy cream, mixed with cold water
1/2 C cold water, mixed with cream

Almond filling

1/4 C of ground almonds
1/4 C of confectioner's sugar
3 tablespoons soft, whipped butter

For the Poached Pears fill a saucepan (preferably one that's going fit your pears tightly) add your vino, a vanilla bean sliced down the middle, the zest and juice of an orange, a stick of cinnamon, and a few sprigs of fresh mint, thyme or rosemary but don't over do it. If you only have dried herbs that's fine, but just a pinch will do. You don't want your pears to taste like a roast lamb. Next, bring the poaching liquid to a boil, then cover and simmer for 5 to 10. This particular poaching recipe is adapted from Jamie's Kitchen, but there's a million twists out there so just pick a pear poaching recipe that suits if you're not into this one. When the liquids are simmering (or marrying their flavors as the chefs would say), skin and core your pears from the base. Make sure to keep your pears whole with the stem on and in clean, presentable form. You're going to see them when you're done so you don't want to rough them up. Once your pears are prepped, place them base down in the simmering liquid and cover. And if they aren't fully immersed add more wine, it's important that the fruit is covered in the booze. They won't cook evenly if they're not, so make sure they're drowning in the sauce.

For The Pastry (if you're up for making your own) this is the recipe we use. If not, store-bought pastry will do the trick. It comes in two forms: sheets, or blocks. If you buy sheets, simply lay out one sheet and take it from there. The blocks will need to defrost, and you will need a chunk of pastry roughly the size of one good sized handful. This usually means half of one package. On a floured surface, roll out a sheet about 1/4" thick and brush the surface with one egg yolk beaten with a tablespoon of water. Then using a pizza roller, or the blade of a sharp knife, cut two rows of four squares or rectangles, whichever will accommodate your pears nicely.

For The Filling simply whisk together 1/4c ground almonds, 1/4c confectioner's sugar and three tablespoons softened butter. Spread one tablespoon of filling on each of the rectangles, but try to leave a border because the egg-washed pastry will bake into a beautiful golden hue in the oven. Next, take each poached pear and cut it length-wise in half. With the cut side down, cut each half into 1/8" horizontal slices keeping the shape of the half. Using the Blade of a thick knife, transfer the fanned half pears to the pastry rectangles. Bake these beauties on a lined/greased baking sheet in a preheated 350 ˚ oven for 20-25 minutes or until the edges look golden. Let cool on a wire rack. Garnish with a drizzle of chocolate, icing sugar and a sprinkle of sea salt.