white chocolate truffle-trifle

"Truffle-trifle" is a bit of a mouthful. The reason is that it should just be "truffle cake." But baking disasters can sometimes lead to unexpected results.

Or at least, that's what I like to tell myself to retain some shred of self-preservation.

So, if you've been following this thing at all, you'll know that I have a major problem with layered desserts. Not like typical layered cakes smothered in a frosting of some sort, but mousses, custards, and stacked cakes. I honestly don't know what to do about it, save perhaps get a ring mold, and even then I wouldn't know how to use it adequately. Even worse when the filling itself doesn't work as expected and actually wedges its way beneath the sponge cake you've worked tirelessly to make perfectly and you end up with a half-sunk Titanic situation happening in your springform cake pan, complete with white chocolate filling seeping through the cracks that is nothing if not reminiscent of when the lower decks of the ship begin to flood and consequently fill you with a sense of deep-seated trepidation at the inevitable destruction of a once-great piece of art.

Or maybe that's just the product of a stressful week full of minor disappointments here and there, with a futile baking project as the metaphorical icing on the why-does-God-have-it-out-for-me-these-days cake.

Nevertheless, as I stood there watching white chocolate dripping solemnly onto the floor, I felt totally at peace. [I think it's because I fully expected something much worse, like a minor house fire or earthquake to swallow my Kitchen Aid whole, but nuances.] I watched it for several seconds, transfixed by the tragic beauty of the thing, before I overturned the truffle cake, salvaging the sponge base and most of the filling. I flipped through mental notes for a minute, scurrying through the kitchen, opening cabinets and muttering to myself [in my head or out loud, I'm not even sure], as Farnoosh glanced up in alarm to watch me buzzing about. She came over to ask if everything was alright and saw the disaster of a truffle cake on the counter. At this point, though, I had an idea ready, and grabbed a few of my prized ramekins from the ceramics basket, slamming them excitedly on the counter and grabbing a knife from my silverware drawer. Sliced the cake up into three small rounds, set them at the base of each ramekin, and poured the filling on top.

Voila. Truffle cake trifle. Noosh took each and put them in the fridge for me so they'd settle, we cleaned up the counter, and then ate the left over, white chocolate-soaked sponge cake. It ended up being quite a delicious disaster, in the end.

And perhaps even lovelier than the intended cake, sitting serenely in their ceramic ramekins like debutantes at a ball.

White Chocolate Truffle Trifle
Makes 4-6 small ramekins worth of trifle

For the sponge cake, you'll need:

• 2 eggs
• 4 tbsp sugar
• 1 oz good-quality white chocolate, melted *
• 1/3 cup flour

For the white chocolate filling, you'll need:

• 1 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 12 oz good-quality white chocolate, chopped
• 1 cup mascarpone cheese, softened

To prepare the cake:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line and grease a 9x13-inch pan with parchment paper. In a medium sized bowl, whisk sugar and eggs on high speed until light and frothy, about 10 minutes. Gently fold in flour and white chocolate. Pour filling onto pan and bake for 15-20 mins, until springy. Let cool in pan about 5 mins, then remove cake from pan and let cool completely on a wire rack.

To prepare the filling:

In a medium-sized saucepan, heat heavy cream to boiling. Lower the heat and add the chopped chocolate, stirring until the chocolate melts completely. Fold in the mascarpone cheese and stir until mixture is smooth. Allow filling to cool completely, about 1 hour. Stir periodically so the filling doesn't set.

To assemble the trifle:

Cut a circle the size of the base of each ramekin out of the sponge cake. Gently press the sliced cakes onto the base of the ramekins. Slowly spoon the cooled filling on top of the sponge cake, smoothing out the top. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, until completely set. 

*Note: Honestly, do not skimp on the quality of the white chocolate. Cheap chocolate will give the entire dessert an air of artificiality, since cheap chocolate itself tastes like over-sweetened plastic. Splurge on the good stuff - a nice Swiss or Belgian - or this dessert isn't worth the time.

It had been a rather long week, so Noosh, Matt and I decided to wind down with a dinner last night. It was originally intended to be a belated Valentine's Day dessert affair, since there wasn't much time to do any baking during the week [although Farnoosh made Valentine's night absolutely delicious with a silken-tofu chocolate pudding (quite possibly one of my favorite desserts of all time) to go along with our marathon of Supernatural season 2]. But after the week dragged on a bit too much for my happiness, we decided to just do a understated dinner party.

As much as I enjoy baking, there's nothing I love more than cooking. It's much more therapeutic than baking, since it requires less precision and stress and aesthetic disappointments are much less noticeable [okay, maybe I am still a little bitter]. I spent Wednesday and Thursday perfecting my, admittedly meager, menu, and eventually settled on a 3-course affair: toasted mascarpone-stuffed dates and seeded red grapes as hors d'oeuvres, followed by a simple salad of romaine lettuce and sliced tomatoes topped with a drizzle of Spanish olive oil and Portuguese sea salt, and then spaghetti cacio e pepe with freshly grated pecorino romano [hands-down the best pasta recipe you will eat in your entire life] for a relatively light main. And, of course, white chocolate truffle-trifle to round it off.

The entire affair stretched out over about 2 and a half hours, all the while with plenty of French-inspired acoustic music [my cooking playlist] and pleasant chatter in between. Not gonna lie, it was an impressively sophisticated event.

Though, honestly, there is little I can complain about after having seen my favorite band in concert on Friday night, having spent the better part of 3 hours wanting nothing more than to have an intimate relationship with the lead singer's voice.

To be fair, by the end of the week, even after the baking adventure [which took place on Friday afternoon], things were looking up. A bit of reading, a new cookbook, an absolutely fantastic Blind Pilot concert, and catching up on schoolwork does wonders for one's psyche. And then a delicious meal with old friends to look forward to, and then you realize that small disappointments are worth bearing because it makes you appreciate the good things even more.

Particularly when the end result is the most delicious trifle you've ever eaten in your entire life. And I am now metaphorically flipping the bird at conventionality.

Strength is the capacity to break a chocolate bar into four pieces with your bare hands

- and then eat just one of the pieces.  

Judith Viorst

{DBC} frasiers and [im]perfectionism

Time flies by far too quickly for my liking. Individual days seem to drag on forever, but weeks vanish in the blink of an eye.

Disconcerting. Somewhat.

The moral of the story is that I'm not looking forward to having to be a real person. I'm very much enjoying student life, and not so much the thought of applying for internships. And jobs. And financial insecurity. And bills. And no longer having free time to watch inordinate amounts of Sherlock, Doctor Who, and others in what my Netflix profile has dubbed "Suspenseful British TV Shows".

Daring Bakers' Challenges, fun and exciting as they are, are more or less constant reminders of this rather unfavorable phenomenon. I feel like as soon as I submit one, I'm already writing up a post for the next. Only 12 challenges in a year, and we've finished seven. Frightening!

But I digress. I'll not be depressing.

I like to imagine that this is endearing in a 4-year-old-attempting-to-do-something-overly-sophisticated kind of way. Like long-division.

Though, I was pretty bummed to have missed last month's challenge - baklava - because it was so unexpectedly exciting. This month we've returned to the land of custard-like layered desserts with frasiers. I, of course, don't mind the custard; in fact, I adore custards.

It's more the layering bit that irks me.

Not that it's not pretty. Or scrumptious.

Just that I'm not very good at it.

And my perfectionist tendencies instill in me a feeling of self-loathing every time I unravel them.

Practice makes perfect!

[I just...need to practice...]

Fraisiers are lovely little French desserts [they would be] consisting of sponge cakes layered with custard and sliced fruit, topped with almond paste.

Delicious, in other words.

I had Tommy over to help me out, as per always, and we had a phenomenal time. He actually came over two consecutive evenings, since the dessert requires a bit of refrigeration and we both work full-time, so we spent one prepping the cake and custard and the second layering, cooking dinner, and eating while chatting over A Study in Pink [my plan is for this obsession of mine to permeate into everyone else's life, like a hugely entertaining breed of mold (also less horrifying than this poor analogy would suggest)].

As for the recipe, I'll just copy and paste. It is pretty long and elaborate, and doing absolutely nothing mentally stimulating for the past 4 weeks has left me rather lazy.

Frasiers
Adapted from the Daring Bakers' July Challenge

Basic Chiffon Cake:

Ingredients:

• 1 cup + 2 tablespoons (270 ml) (5½ oz/155 gm) all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) (4 gm) baking powder
• 3/4 cups (180 ml) (6 oz /170 gm) sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon (2½ ml) (1½ gm) salt, preferably kosher
• 1/4 cup (2 fl oz/60 ml) vegetable oil
• 3 large egg yolks
• ⅓ cup + 1 tablespoon (3.17 fl oz/95 ml) water
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) pure vanilla extract
• 3/4 teaspoon (3¾ ml) (3 gm) lemon zest, grated
• 5 large egg whites
• ¼ teaspoon (1¼ ml) (1 gm) cream of tartar

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to moderate 325°F (160°C/gas mark 3).
2. Line the bottom of an 8-inch (20 cm) spring form pan with parchment paper. Do not grease the sides of the pan.
3. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the flour and baking powder. Add in all but 3 tablespoons (45 ml.) of sugar, and all of the salt. Stir to combine.
4. In a small bowl combine the oil, egg yolks, water, vanilla and lemon zest. Whisk thoroughly.
5. Combine with the dry ingredients and mix thoroughly for about one minute, or until very smooth.
6. Put the egg whites into a stand mixer, and beat on medium speed using a whisk attachment on a medium speed, until frothy. Add cream of tartar and beat on a medium speed until the whites hold soft peaks. Slowly add the remaining sugar and beat on a medium-high speed until the whites hold firm and form shiny peaks.
7. Using a grease free rubber spatula, scoop about ⅓ of the whites into the yolk mixture and fold in gently. Gently fold in the remaining whites just until combined.
8. Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake for 45 to 55 minutes or until toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
9. Removed the cake from the oven and allow to cool in the pan on a wire rack.
10. To unmold, run a knife around the sides to loosen the cake from the pan and remove the spring form sides. Invert the cake and peel off the parchment paper. Refrigerate for up to four days.

Pastry Cream Filling:

Ingredients:

• 1 cup (8 fl oz/250 ml) whole milk
• 1/2 teaspoon (2½ ml) pure vanilla extract
• 1/8 teaspoon (1/2 ml) (¼ gm) salt, preferably kosher
• 2 tablespoons (30 ml) (10 gm)cornstarch
• 1/4 cup (60 ml) (2 oz/55 gm) sugar
• 1 large egg
• 2 tablespoons (30 ml) (1 oz/30 gm) unsalted butter
• 3/4 teaspoon (3¾ ml) (4 gm) gelatin
• 1/2 tablespoon (7½ ml) water
• 1 cup (8 fl oz/250 ml) heavy cream

Directions:

1. Pour the milk, vanilla, and salt into a heavy sauce pan. Place over medium-high heat and scald, bringing it to a near boiling point. Stir occasionally.
2. Meanwhile, in a stand mixer add the cornstarch and sugar. Whisk to combine
3. Add the eggs to the sugar and cornstarch and whisk until smooth.
4. When the milk is ready, gently and slowly while the stand mixer is whisking, pour the heated milk down the side of the bowl into the egg mixture.
5. Pour the mixture back into the warm pot and continue to cook over a medium heat until the custard is thick, just about to boil and coats the back of a spoon.
6. Remove from heat and pass through a fine mesh sieve into a large mixing bowl. Allow to cool for ten minutes stirring occasionally.
7. Cut the butter into four pieces and whisk into the pastry cream a piece at a time until smooth.
8. Cover the cream with plastic wrap, pressing the plastic wrap onto the top of the cream to prevent a skin from forming. Chill in the refrigerator for up to five days.
9. In a small dish, sprinkle the gelatin over the water and let stand for a few minutes to soften.
10. Put two inches (55 mm) of water into a small sauce pan and bring to a simmer over a medium heat.
11. Measure 1/4 cup (2 oz/60 ml) of the chilled pastry cream into a small stainless steel bowl that will sit across the sauce pan with the simmering water, without touching the water.
12. Heat the cream until it is 120 F (48.8 C). Add the gelatin and whisk until smooth. Remove from the water bath, and whisk the remaining cold pastry cream in to incorporate in two batches.
13. In a stand mixer, fitted with the whisk attachment, whip the cream until it holds medium-stiff peaks. Immediately fold the whipped cream into the pastry cream with a rubber spatula.

Simple Syrup:

You may choose to flavor the syrup. One way is to use flavored sugar (for example: apple cider sugar, orange sugar, or vanilla sugar) or to stir in 1-2 teaspoons of flavored extract. You may also infuse with herbs or spices, if desired or add four tablespoons (60 ml) of fruit juice or liqueur while the syrup is cooling.

Ingredients:

• 1/3 cup (2⅔ fl oz/80 ml) (2⅔ oz/75 gm) of sugar, flavored or white
• 1/3 cup (2⅔ fl oz/80 ml) of water

Directions:

1. Combine the water and sugar in a medium saucepan.
2. Bring the mixture to a boil and let the sugar dissolve. Stirring is not necessary, but will not harm the syrup.
3. Remove the syrup from the heat and cool slightly.
4. Transfer syrup to a lidded container or jar that can be stored in the refrigerator. Simple syrup can be stored for up to one month.

Fraisier Assembly:

Components:

• 1 baked 8 inch (20 cm) chiffon cake
• 1 recipe pastry cream filling
• ⅓ cup (80 ml) simple syrup or flavored syrup
• 2 lbs (900 g) strawberries
• confectioners’ sugar for dusting
• ½ cup (120 ml) (5 oz/140 gm) almond paste

Directions:

1. Line the sides of a 8-inch (20 cm) spring form pan with plastic wrap. Do not line the bottom of the pan.
2. Cut the cake in half horizontally to form two layers.
3. Fit the bottom layer into the prepared spring form pan. Moisten the layer evenly with the simple syrup. When the cake has absorbed enough syrup to resemble a squishy sponge, you have enough.
4. Hull and slice in half enough strawberries to arrange around the sides of the cake pan. Place the cut side of the strawberry against the sides of the pan, point side up forming a ring.
5. Pipe cream in-between strawberries and a thin layer across the top of the cake.
6. Hull and quarter your remaining strawberries and place them in the middle of the cake. Cover the strawberries and entirely with the all but 1 tbsp. (15 ml) of the pastry cream.
7. Place the second cake layer on top and moisten with the simple syrup.
8. Lightly dust a work surface with confectioners' sugar and roll out the almond paste to a 10-inch (25 cm) round 1/16 inch (1.5 mm) thick. Spread the remaining 1 tablespoon (15 ml) of pastry cream on the top of the cake and cover with the round of almond paste.
9. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 4 hours.
10. To serve release the sides of the spring form pan and peel away the plastic wrap.
11. Serve immediately or store in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.

Despite the aesthetic imperfections, it was mouthwateringly good.

And now I'm determined to master the art of layered desserts.

...Eventually.

In other news, Friday is my last day interning. Bittersweet goodbyes.

I'm also out of food, again. Deciding whether or not laziness will outweigh my need for dinner. Raw cookie dough is always an option. And tomatoes. It's a wonder I'm still alive.