tall, dark, and handsome cake with blackberry preserves [and an ethical 21st birthday]

I love sound. It's my favorite sense after taste, I think.

I love buzzing chatter. The nice kind, mind you, when you're at a coffee shop with your laptop in the midst of writing a paper for a class with the soft hum of people musing to one another over lattes and biscotti.

I love laughter. Even irritating, too-loud laughter that kind of makes you want to punch the person after too long, but knowing that they're happy is the only thing keeping you from doing it.

I love music. Listening to a favorite playlist while speed-walking through grounds on the way to class, too distracted by the lyrics to notice your friends trying to get your attention as you brush past them without sparing a glance.

Lately, I love wiring my laptop up to my speaker system and listening to soundtracks playing in the background as I bustle about the kitchen. For this particular baking endeavor, I alternated between James Vincent McMorrow and the gorgeous soundtrack to Midnight in Paris. It made for a soothing touch as I struggled fruitlessly to keep the layers from toppling over and getting chocolate frosting on absolutely every inch of counter space physically accessible.

It was real cute, let me tell you.

But in the end, Cole Porter kept me sane, and I was able to put together a rather homely-looking birthday cake for two wonderful friends.

Dark Chocolate and Raspberry Layer Cake with Chocolate Frosting 
Adapted from bella eats and Healthy. Happy. Life.
Yields one 3-layer, 8-inch cake.

For the cake, you'll need:

• 3 oz semisweet chocolate
• 1 1/2 cups hot, brewed coffee
• 3 cups sugar
• 2 1/2 cups AP flour
• 1 1/2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder
• 2 tsp baking soda
• 3/4 tsp baking powder
• 1 1/4 tsp salt
• 3 large eggs
• 3/4 cup vegetable oil
• 1 1/2 cups buttermilk [for dairy free, substitute 1 1/2 cups soy milk plus 1 tbsp cider vinegar, well mixed and set aside ~5 mins to curdle]
• 3/4 tsp vanilla
• your choice preserves, for layers [raspberry, blackberry, or strawberry work best]

For chocolate buttercream, you'll need:

• 2/3 cup [1 1/2 sticks, 12 tbsp, 6 oz] butter
• 2/3 cup melted chocolate
• 4-6 tbsp soy milk
• 2 tsp vanilla
• 4 cups confectioner's sugar

To prepare the cake:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and grease and flour three 8-inch cake pans. Line bottom of the pans with wax paper and grease.

In a small heat-proof bowl, combine chocolate chips and hot coffee, stirring until the mixture is smooth. In a large bowl, sift flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Set both aside.

In another large bowl, beat eggs on medium-high speed until thickened and lemon in color, about 3 minutes. Slowly add oil, buttermilk, vanilla, and melted chocolate mixture. Beat until fully incorporated. Lower speed and gradually add flour mixture, beating until batter is just combined. 

Divide batter among the pans and bake for 45-50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool layers in their pans on a cooling rack. Once cooled, run a knife along the edges of the pans and invert the cakes onto the cooling rack. Slowly peel away wax paper and let layers cool completely.

To prepare the frosting:

On medium-high speed, cream the butter until light and fluffy, about 3 mins. Add melted chocolate and vanilla and beat. Lower mixer speed to low and slowly add in confectioner's sugar, scraping down the sides of the bowl as necessary. Once sugar is added, increase mixer speed to medium. Pour in soy milk until the mixture has the preferred consistency - this will vary, and may need less than 4 tbsp or more than 6 depending on your preference. Beat frosting until light. Refrigerate until using.

To assemble the cake:

Place one of the cake layers on a serving plate. Spread a generous amount of raspberry preserves [I do about 2/3 cup worth] on top of the layer. Frost the top of the preserves with a bit of the frosting. Place second layer on top and repeat. Place third layer on top and use the remaining frosting to frost the top and sides of the cake. Refrigerate until serving.

Chelsea and Roods celebrated a joint birthday dinner last night, for which I happily offered to bake the cake. I wanted something quite different from last year's coconut layer cake with lemon curd filling, and so opted for chocolate. Ethical, and chocolate. The thought was a bit daunting, which obviously meant I was going to take up the challenge.

In actuality, the cake was a breeze to make even with the restriction to ethical ingredients. Chelsea provided me with her preferred eggs and butter, and soy milk took care of the rest. In the end, it didn't taste any different from what one would expect from a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.

And, ethical fun fact: Ghirardelli's semisweet chocolate chips [you know, the ones they sell next to the Nestle for an extra 60 cents or what have you] are made with soy lecithin. I just love happy coincidences.

I went with blackberries for this one, as I love the earthy tartness of blackberries against the bitter chocolate. A bit more sophisticated than raspberry, which was quite fitting for a classy little dessert and cocktail/mocktail night. Chelsea even made the world's most adorable [vegan] margarita cupcakes for the occasion. It was all rather precious.

So, in the end, it was two hours spent with cake, cupcakes, and drinks. All the while with a lovely backdrop of chatter, laughter, and music.

Because, really, what more do you need for a good night?

Happy 21st birthdays, my darlings Chelsea and Rudhdi. I hope this next year is filled with pleasant sounds, piquant tastes, and lots of happy memories. Love always.

5. canada: nanaimo bars [and a moment of solitude]

'Solitude' is a condition that I'm well-acquainted with as of late. I've been back at the apartment since last Sunday and have the place to myself. Not only that, I have more or less all of grounds to myself, save for those poor, overachieving, GPA-boost-seeking souls here for J-term.

As for me, I'm here working part-time, which is actually getting me nowhere whatsoever since I spend every waking hour that I'm home with my feet propped up on a table laid with half-read books, a carelessly discarded PS3 controller in desperate need of charging, and the Mac open to tabs of Facebook, Tastespotting, and Amazon.com for easy-access online shopping.

[Needless to say, any money I've made so far has already been spent on the first four novels in A Song of Ice & Fire, two new scarves, and about three cartons of eggs I picked up last week for breakfasts.]

In any case, "solitude" has never been a word I've found melancholy or deplorable, or one associated with the social status of an elderly cat-lady. In fact, I love being alone. It's a characteristic my mother has found baffling ever since my toddler years, when I was perfectly content to sit by the window in my crib and engage in whatever musings strike a 2-year-old without the need to cry out for mom's attention or caregiving. I'm not sure why, but I just rarely feel lonely, and very much enjoy having hours upon hours to spend doing whatever I want.

Lately, that has been books. Now, I'm not one for new year's resolutions. I mean, I make them, in my head of course, with all intention to break them as quickly as possible and save myself the later self-loathing. So, in an effort to keep up tradition, I mentally drew up a list of unachievable resolutions. The list included the usual - lose 20 pounds, will myself to sleep earlier than 3am on weeknights, do a better job of keeping in touch with family, etc. etc. But I also made one serious resolution that I do actually intend on keeping: read more.

[I figure, if I'm going to be up until 3am anyway, I could at least spend it doing something intellectually stimulating, instead of just lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, making tragically desperate wishes for TARDISes and a 4.0 gpa.]

I mean, I realize that it has only been 8 days, but having read literally about 1,000 pages of literature since the start of 2012, I think I'm doing rather well so far. In any case, it's more than I'd read for pleasure during the totality of the 365 days of 2011. Currently I'm in the middle of George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones and absolutely loving it. I work my 5-hour shifts every morning, come home by 3pm, and spend the remainder of the day alternating between novels and BBC television.

[Sherlock's back on for series 2 and I've definitely seen the first episode at least 5 times; another feat, seeing as how it was released exactly 7 days ago. Also not very surprising since this is me we're talking about.]

Today, though, has been a bit lazy. I haven't actually read at all yet, and spent the morning cooking, submitting philosophy papers to random journals, reading up on summer internships, and baking. First time baking in a little while, and so I settled on something I've always wondered about:  nanaimo bars.

Nanaimo bars are a delightful little treat from one of my favorite countries in the world, Canada. I actually did not realize prior to actually making them that they don't actually require any baking. [This was, in fact, so surprising that I felt the need to use the word "actually" thrice in the previous sentence.] Instead, they just chill out, layer by layer, in the fridge until they settle. It's a rather casual baking experience, which was even more welcome since I've tried my very best to move as little as possible today. The end result is a bit sweet for my tastes, but undeniably worth it for the ease of preparation.

Nanaimo Bars
Adapted from bakedbree
Yields 16 squares

For the crust, you'll need:

• 1/2 cup [1 stick] butter
• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 3 tbsp cocoa powder
• 1 egg, lightly beaten
• 2 cups graham cracker crumbs
• 1/2 cup walnuts, chopped
• 1 cup coconut flakes

For the middle layer, you'll need: 

• 1/4 cup [1/2 stick] butter, softened
• 2 cups powdered sugar
• 2 tbsp vanilla custard powder
• 1/4 cup heavy cream

For the chocolate layer, you'll need:

• 1/4 cup [1/2 stick] butter
• 4 oz semisweet chocolate

To prepare the crust:

Line an 8x8-inch square pan with aluminum foil, but do not grease. In a medium, heat-proof bowl, melt butter, brown sugar, and cocoa over a double-broiler [or microwave]. While the mixture is hot, whisk constantly while slowly pouring in the beaten egg. Be vigilant about whisking as to avoid scrambling the egg. Switch to a wooden spoon, add in graham cracker crumbs, walnuts, and coconut, and mix until the mixture comes together in a sort-of dough. Dump the dough onto the base of the pan and press it evenly along the base. Stick the pan in the fridge for 45-60 minutes.

To prepare the middle layer: 

Cream the butter, powdered sugar, and custard powder in a bowl. Slowly pour in the heavy cream and beat on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Pour filling onto the chilled crust and spread evenly with a spatula Stick the pan back into the fridge for another 45-60 minutes.

To prepare the chocolate layer:

Melt the chocolate chips and butter in a heat-proof bowl until the mixture is smooth and shiny. Once the middle layer has firmed up, pour the chocolate on top and spread it evenly with a spatula. Chill the bars in the fridge for at least 60 minutes before removing from the pan and slicing. Cut into 16 squares and serve. Bars can be refrigerated for up to 5 days.

Yes, I realize that geographically, it makes no sense to move from Afghanistan to Canada, and that I hadn't actually planned on hitting Canada in my gastronomic journey around the world for quite some time, but I like spontaneity. [And many of the Asian desserts that I have on my list require fruit that is not currently in season, so I figured that jumping around from country to country keeps things interesting and prevents me from going against nature.] 

As for the bars themselves, I love the crust on these; it has everything I love about an unhealthy food item. Graham crackers, nuts, coconut, butter, and brown sugar. I mean, it really just doesn't get any better. The middle layer I'm less keen on, but it's more a fault of my personal character [I don't like the taste or texture that accompanies custard powder] than the actual bars. But sandwiched between such a delightful crust and a guaranteed-to-be-delicious ganache layer, I couldn't stop myself from nibbling on the bars as I sliced them up. 

A fine dessert, over all.

As I said before, I have no problem with solitude. I rarely feel lonely and am perfectly content being able to sit like a log on my sofa in PJs for the entirety of the day with nothing but my books, my BBC Sherlock, and my David Tennant to keep me company. But when one has the house to herself, one also runs into the problem of having all of one's dessert to herself. This may not seem like a bad thing to those not in the house who may actually want to partake in said dessert, but for the one all alone in the house, it is a bad news bears situation. Consequently, I've layered the bars up in some tupperware, stuck them in the freezer, and plan on taking them home with me when I head back next weekend to share with the family.

Of course, that's not to say that I've kept a couple in the fridge for some dessert after tonight's dinner, but no one has to know about that.

{DBC} sans rival

I feel like it's been months since I've done a DBC. Which is, well, true, since I've missed the last two. I just did not have the copious amounts of time necessary to spend baking croissants and breads.

Not that November has been any less busy, but now that papers, end-of-term assignments, and thesis proposals are established and underway, a large part of my mind has been freed up for things totally unrelated to academics.

[Things aside from BBC television, anyway, which, as it were, I've finished all of save for Merlin, and even then weekly airings keep me from spending hours upon hours in front of the TV.  I've even had time to read actual literature and finally got around to finishing The Things They Carried (a four-year long endeavor, not because my capabilities of reading a 200-page novel are deficient, but because I've never just sat down and read it all the way through), which is a feat in and of itself and quite possibly my biggest intellectual accomplishment of the semester. Some might say I lead a sad existence. They would probably be right.]

But I saw this month's challenge and knew I had to participate. Not only was it something that didn't have yeast or gelatin in it, but was something I could finish up in one afternoon and looked gorgeous to boot.

Filipino Sans Rival, originally a French dessert comprised of layers of dacquoise and a rich buttercream frosting. Admittedly, Tommy and my version is pretty much the farthest thing from the traditional as you can get while still cheating your way by calling it a "Sans Rival," but it made for a really delicious dessert.

I'll give you the recipe for ours, but if you want to go the traditional route, omit the cocoa in the cake and chocolate in the buttercream, and use cashews instead of almonds.

Baking and Super Smash Bros seems to be the established norm whenever Tommy comes over for DBC. It makes we wish DBCs were a weekly occurrence, if it wouldn't mean that I would probably end up having to drop out of university.

Filipino "Sans Rival"
Adapted from the November Daring Baker's Challenge

For the dacquoise, you'll need:

• 10 egg whites, at room temperature
• 1 tsp cream of tartar
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup cocoa powder
• 2 cups almonds, finely ground

For the French buttercream, you'll need:

• 5 egg yolks, at room temperature
• 1 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup water
• 2 1/2 sticks [20 tbsp] butter, softened and cut into cubes
• 2 oz bittersweet chocolate, melted

To prepare the cake:
Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit and grease and flour four 9-inch pans (or two 9-inch pans, keeping in mind that you'll have to bake an additional two batches). Make sure you grease and flour them very well, as the dacquoise becomes quite sticky. Set aside.

In a clean and dry stainless steel bowl, whisk the egg whites on high speed until frothy, about two minutes. Sprinkle with cream of tartar. Gradually add sugar and cocoa powder, a couple of tablespoons at a time, until stiff peaks form, 7-10 minutes. Fold in 1 3/4 cups of the ground almonds, reserving about 1/4 cup to garnish. Divide the batter equally among the four pans (or divide half of the batter equally among the two pans, reserving the other half of the batter for when the first two cakes are done). Bake for 25-30 minutes, until set. Now is a good time to make the buttercream. Once cakes are down, allow the them to cool for a couple of minutes in the pan, but then overturn quite soon onto cooling racks.


To prepare the frosting:
Whisk the egg yolks on high speed in a large bowl until they've turned a pale yellow and have doubled in volume. In a medium saucepan, whisk the water and sugar over medium flame until a syrup has formed. The sugar should be a very pale amber color, but make sure to remove from the heat before it caramelizes. With the whisk still running on high speed, very carefully pour the syrup down the sides of the bowl. Continue beating on high until the mixture comes to room temperature, about 15 minutes. Still on high speed, add butter, one tablespoon at a time, until fully incorporated. Add in melted chocolate and whisk for another 30-60 minutes, until uniform. Refrigerate the buttercream for at least one hour before using, and whip it smooth before frosting.


To assemble the cake:
Place one layer of dacquoise on a serving plate. Frost the top with about 2 heaping tablespoons of the buttercream. Place a second layer on top and frost. Repeat with the remaining two layers. Using the remaining buttercream, frost the top and sides of the cake. Press the reserved ground almonds along the sides or top of the cake. Garnish with whole almonds, if desired.

I very much loved the look of this cake. Images flashed before my eyes bringing back memories, visions of small patisseries in Italy, with layers of homemade cakes piled high with thick, creamy frostings, imperfect in their presentation but beautiful in their simplicity, rustic in a very comforting, understated way.

Those are always the cakes that taste the best, after all.

I myself am not partial to meringue, for the most part, and really detest buttercream frostings, so I didn't have very high expectations for this cake. Not that I doubted it would be tasty; rather, I didn't expect to like it as much as Tommy or Noosh might. I was gravely [fortunately?] mistaken, and really just had to drive the thing over to Shea to give to Matt for fear that I would spend the rest of the afternoon and evening with my head in the fridge, cutting slices and eating them with a fork straight off of the serving plate.

It was tantalizingly good.

In fact, I so loved the soft, chewiness of the dacqouise that it was the inspiration for one of my Thanksgiving desserts [and a huge hit with the fam, so clearly dacquoise is the ticket].


And now, another month is gone, and there's only December standing between me and 2012. It's the point in the semester where I'm so, dangerously close to being done that making myself study for finals and finish up term papers is actually physically painful.

I just want to be home, snuggled up under covers, finishing up Assassins Creed: Revelations, and eating enough home-cooked meals to rival a bear preparing for hibernation. Is that too much to ask?

[churros and orange juice] cinnamon cake with dulce de leche frosting and salted caramel shards

I am just realizing that 11/11/11 is happening tomorrow. I am also realizing that this was a Facebook group I joined at least two years ago, thinking "oh, that's so far away, I have forever to think up the most epic wish I can conceive."

Yet, an odd-two years later, I don't know what to wish for. Two years ago I thought I'd be more mature, with a concrete path laid out for my life, knowing exactly what I'd want to do and how long it'd take me to do it. Two years ago I thought that being in my 20s meant I'd be an independent adult, fully-functioning social paradigm of grace and poise, with a repertoire of meritorious experiences under my belt.

*snort*

All I've learned since then is that I'm likely not at all capable of surviving even a week in the real world without parental guidance, financial support, or an academic counselor telling me what I should do with my life. Perhaps I should wish for some direction. Or coming up with an adequate thesis topic before Thanksgiving break. Or being proposed to by a handsome prince with loads of cash.

I kid, of course. Okay, perhaps not so much about the rich prince, but as for the rest, I'm not concerned. Still growing up, after all. And learning, and experiencing, and all that important stuff.

All that's more useful than wishing, anyway. Where will wishing get you, save for crushing disappointment when laziness trumps pro-activity? Not that I'll stop being lazy, of course, but best not to put all your eggs in one basket. Particularly when that basket is just a socially constructed label of "epicness" for one of the [admittedly] coolest numerical dates in existence.

But I digress. This post isn't about wishes. It is about a date, though, and an important one, at that. Specifically, my dear friend Zach's birthday. Which was yesterday, but whatever.

[Also my father's, incidentally, but that celebration is for another day when I'm actually at home. Nevertheless, all my love and best wishes, dad!]

Zach loves dessert. I know this because he and Jerm often serve as my human garbage disposals for leftover baked goods. But when I bake for Zach, it has always been with peanut butter. It's a safe bet, since the only thing Zach loves more than dessert is peanut butter. But I'm tired of peanut butter and predictability. I wanted to do something unique, and different, and special, and totally and utterly for Zach.

So I decided on churros.


...okay, so, not really churros. But a cake totally and utterly churro-inspired. I had been pondering for a while earlier in the week about what I could do outside of the realm of legume butters, and suddenly it struck me. And I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it earlier.

Cinnamon Cake with Dulce de Leche Frosting and Salted Caramel Shards
A bakedbeen original.
Yields one 9-inch cake.

For the cinnamon cake, you'll need:

• 4 eggs
• scant 1 cup sugar
• 5 tbsp whole milk
• 2 tsps vanilla
• 2 1/2 cups flour
• 1 tbsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 tbsp baking powder

For the dulce de leche frosting, you'll need:

• 11 oz cream cheese, softened
• 3 tbsp butter, softened 
• 1 14-oz can dulce de leche
• 2 cups powdered sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla

For the salted caramel shards, you'll need:

• 1 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup water
• 1 tsp fleur de sel

To prepare the cinnamon cake:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and grease and flour two 9-inch cake pans. In a large mixing bowl fitted with the paddle attachment, mix eggs and sugar on medium speed until blended. Add in milk and vanilla and incorporate. Lower speed and add flour, cinnamon, salt, and baking powder. Mix until just blended. Divide batter equally among both pans and smooth with a spatula. Bake for 35-40 minutes, until golden brown and a toothpick comes out clean when poked in the center. Let cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then invert cakes onto wire racks and let cool completely.


To prepare the dulce de leche frosting: 
In a large mixing bowl fitted with the paddle attachment, cream butter and cream cheese until fluffy. Add dulce de leche and mix on medium speed for about 3 minutes, until fully blended.  Lower speed to low and slowly add in powdered sugar. Gradually raise speed to medium-high and beat for 5 minutes, until light and fluffy. Add vanilla and beat another 30 seconds. Frosting can be prepared up to a day ahead and kept refrigerated until using.


To prepare the salted caramel shards:
Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil and set aside. In a medium-sized saucepan over medium-high flame, whisk sugar and water until sugar dissolves. Once the syrup starts to bubble, stop whisking. Allow syrup to heat, undisturbed, until the mixture turns a deep amber color. Quickly remove the pan from the heat and slowly pour the syrup onto the aluminum foil, allowing it to spread out into a thin layer. Sprinkle fleur de sel evenly over the sugar. Let sugar harden, about 30 minutes. Peel sugar off of the aluminum foil and, with your hands, break it apart into shards. Set aside and cover loosely with cling-wrap until using.


To assemble the cake:
Place one of the cake layers on a serving plate. Spread a generous layer of the frosting on top of the cake. Sprinkle some of the shards on top of the frosting. If the shards are large, break them into small pieces [but be sure to reserve a few large shards to decorate]. Place the second layer on top. Frost the top and sides of the cake with the remaining frosting. Refrigerate until serving.

Right before serving the cake, pierce the remaining large shards around the center of the cake.

Zach and I spent 4.5 weeks in Spain earlier this summer, which, if you know me at all, are familiar with in excruciating detail. We had a marvelous time, of course, from exploring Valencia to trying new foods to visiting Granada to actually being able to converse with the locals. One of my fondest memories, though, is on one of our walks back from university.

It was a nice walk, about 2.5 miles, strolling past familiar old bookshops, banks, and boutiques, chatting about anything and everything. Zach had been telling me, since day one, that he wanted nothing more than to eat some good, Spanish churros, but we had yet to have done so. So we decided, probably about halfway into our trip, after having come to that startling realization, to stop at one of the unassuming cafes by our apartments to eat some flipping churros.

And they were delicious. Fresh and crispy, still hot and leaving traces of cinnamon sugar on our fingers, a mug full of warm chocolate sauce for dipping, and a tall glass of Valencian orange juice for patriotism. A perfect 15 minutes of sitting in the center of the plaza with nothing on our minds save for realization that we were actually in Spain, sitting in the center of the plaza, eating churros.

And so it was a no-brainer that I wanted to give some of that perfection back to Zach for his 21st birthday. Not exactly churros, but a cake unequivocally inspired by that afternoon. Perhaps not the answer to his epic wish for Friday, but intended to remind him of something meaningful.

Unparalleled deliciousness was only a bonus, really.

[But seriously. One of the best cakes I've ever made. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but seriously.]


Though I think I'm settling with the rich prince wish for 11/11/11. No harm in trying, right?

Only crushing disappointment can come out of this, after all.

[almost-vegan but totally ethical] raspberry-walnut chiffon cake with chocolate-avocado buttercream

It's startling how quickly something can become routine, and how quickly other things can be pushed to the back of your mind, like dust swept under the rug. I've been cleaning out my hard drive of old files and photos in an effort to organize my life a bit, and rummaging through albums from summers past and collections of pictures of desserts baked for old friends' birthdays, I'm somewhat surprised at how long ago some things seem, even though they really weren't that long ago at all.

Spain, for example. I can't even believe that less than three months ago, I'd be waking up on the eleventh floor of Maria's apartment, grabbing my backpack and heading out on the routine 3-mile walk to campus, strolling past unassuming bookshops and cafes along narrow Valencian streets. Feels like years. And yet, not quite so.

I'm quite a fan of decorating chocolate and raspberry desserts in this fashion. The motivation behind it is my utter lack of creativity. At least, as Noosh so graciously pointed out [in the manner only a best friend would without actually highlighting your creative deficiencies], "it looks like a cake one would find in a bohemian cafe."

This weekend marks the end of the second week of the semester, and yet it feels like it's been going on for ages. Like there was no summer. Papers, hundreds of pages of reading, mundane assignments, insomnia, having to wake up early, wanting to procrastinate with Netflix. It's like I've been doing this for years without pause. The familiarity is nice, of course, but also draining. Feeling like I've been doing this for years also means feeling like I never get quite enough sleep.

But being a third year now, I don't have to deal with the torture of having to familiarize myself with a new place, overwhelmed by enormous classes and distant professors, new hallmates and suitemates and RAs, missing the ease of having a car on hand.

Instead, I have the ability to drive down to a good friend's apartment at any hour I please, dressed up [for once] and an almost-vegan but totally ethical cake in hand for a relaxing and sophisticated dinner party.

Raspberry-Walnut Chiffon Cake with Chocolate Avocado Buttercream
Adapted from Rose's Heavenly Cakes, passion 4 eating, and my imagination.
Yields one three-layer, 8-inch cake

For the walnut chiffon cake, you'll need:

• 1 1/4 cups walnuts
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1/2 cup cornstarch
• 1 tsp baking powder 
• 1 cup sugar plus 2 tablespoons, divided
• 5 egg whites, at room temperature
• 1/2 tsp cream of tartar
• 8 egg yolks, at room temperature
• 1 tsp vanilla

For the chocolate-avocado "buttercream", you'll need:

• 3 ripe avocados 
• 3/4 cup cocoa powder
• 1 1/4 cup powdered sugar
• pinch of salt
• 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 1 tbsp instant coffee

• 1 cup raspberry preserves
• 1/2 pint fresh raspberries, to garnish

To prepare the walnut-chiffon cake:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and grease and flour three 8-inch square pans [alternatively, three 8-inch round pans or two 9-inch round pans will work]. In a food processor, pulse the walnuts and 2 tbsp of flour until they are the consistency of breadcrumbs. Add in the remaining flour, cornstarch, and baking powder, and pulse until fine. Set aside.

In a the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat egg whites on medium speed until frothy. Add in cream of tartar and increase speed to medium-high until soft peaks form. Gradually add in half of the sugar [1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon] until stiff peak forms. Gently spoon the meringue into a large bowl, being careful not to deflate them, and set aside. Clean the bowl and whisk and dry completely.

Now whisk the egg yolks and remaining sugar on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Add in the vanilla and mix until incorporated. Sprinkle the flour mixture on top of the egg yolks, but don't mix. Using a spatula, gently fold 1/3 of the egg whites into the egg yolk mixture to lighten the batter [and consequently mixing the flour into the eggs]. Carefully fold in the remaining egg whites in two additions, being careful not to over-mix or deflate the whipped egg whites. The batter will be thick and dense. Separate the batter equally across the pans. If using three pans, bake for 20-25 minutes, until the top of the cakes are golden-brown. If using two pans, bake for 30-35 minutes. Let cakes cool completely. 


To prepare the chocolate-avocado "buttercream": 
Scoop the flesh out of the three avocados into the bowl of a food processor. Add in all ingredients and process until smooth and creamy. Add more sugar if it's not sweet enough to your liking. Keep buttercream refrigerated until using. Note that the frosting can be made a day ahead. 


To assemble the cake:
Place one cake layer on a serving plate. Spread a thin layer of the chocolate frosting over the top of the layer, as a sort of crumb-coating. Pour half of the raspberry preserves on top of the chocolate and spread it evenly. Gently place the second cake layer on top of the base, and repeat with another crumb-coating and the remaining raspberry preserves. Place the final layer on top of the cake and frost the top and sides with the remaining frosting. Garnish the top of the cake with the fresh raspberries. Keep cake refrigerated until serving.

I'd have to say, playing Taboo and discussing anthropological differences in pop-culture film dubs, in a room full of college students well-fed with butternut squash lentils, roasted Brussels sprouts, stewed beans, and ethical cake, is a rather excellent way to spend an evening.

Chelsea invited us over this evening, meeting new friends and reuniting with old ones, for a small little dinner party. Since she eats ethical now, we had a vegan dinner and I took it upon myself to offer to make dessert. I have to admit, the challenge of baking ethical was hugely intriguing.

The cake is a dense walnut chiffon, adapted from Rose's almond chiffon cake recipe in her gorgeous cookbook, made ethical with the use of eggs from happy chickens [courtesy of Whole Foods, of course, and borrowed from Chelsea for this dessert]. Being a chiffon cake, it lacks any sort of dairy and thus is completely vegan save for the eggs. 

The frosting is something I've been dying to try for quite a while now; chocolate-avocado "buttercream." Avocado is extremely useful in foods with consistencies like sauces and frostings, as the oil content acts very much like butter. Here, the cocoa powder does a rather good job of masking the avocado taste, and though on its own the frosting is pretty distinct [in neither a positive nor negative way, mind you], on top of a cake it's absolutely brilliant.

And paired with raspberries, it's almost sinful.


Admittedly, I was extremely nervous about this cake. I mean, if it turned out disastrous...a room full of hungry people would be there to tell me all about it. Luckily, it was a hit. And everyone who was unaware of its ethical nature was absolutely floored when I told them about the vegan frosting. Which, I suppose, is the beauty of any sort of substitute dessert: the ability to make them taste convincing. I definitely hope to experiment more with avocado in future.

The rest of the weekend will be spent successfully muggling Famer's Market-bought Ezekiel bread into Panera bread, reading philosophy with a caffeine IV. A trip out of town on Sunday is the only thing motivating me to grin and bear tomorrow's day of catch-up.


As for now, I'm running on about 5 hours of sleep and am in desperate need of some shut-eye. Isn't college just the best?

{DBC} truffles & bark

Chocolate remind me of Halloween. Images of brightly-colored Reeses's cups, funsized Three Musketeers, sacred Hershey's bars wrapped in familiar cocoa packaging, solid letters branding the front like book covers. Cold nights, vibrant costumes, kids laughing, screaming, "trick-or-treats" happily filling cul-de-sacs and windy neighborhood roads. Most of all, I remember Pikachu ears flapping against the top of my skull, one small hand clutching onto the familiar crooked tail, the other the handle of a flimsy, highlighter-orange plastic bag molded shamelessly into the face of a Jack-o-Lantern, all but bursting with excitement from the thought of sitting on the living room floor and sifting through the night's haul for the best finds [anything unwanted would go to Yusra, of course]. This was when I was about 7.

Chocolate reminds me of plane rides. When Yusra and I were much younger and utilized our immaturity to be as unimaginably figety and difficult as possible on long rides, mom would pacify us with treats of Toblerone. I was always fascinated by the shape of the thing, plucking of triangle after triangle, one by one, and savoring the taste as the chocolate melted in my mouth. Though it served as a distraction for only about half an hour before the sweet inevitably disappeared in our stomachs, the distraction gave my mom a good thirty minutes of peace. A small piece of heaven in a 14-hour flight, but heaven nevertheless. It wasn't until just a few years ago, admittedly, that I realized it was possible to purchase the stuff outside of the realm of Duty-Free shops and airport stalls, but the craving doesn't strike unless I know I'll be strapped into a too-small, too-cramped plane seat later. The first time I had it, I was probably 9, but I can't lie and say that I didn't pop into the Duty-Free while in Madrid earlier this summer for a quick fix before heading home.

Chocolate reminds me of family trips. My father loves driving for hours down long roads, through the mountains, across states. Whenever we used to visit Canada or NYC or Florida, we would drive. Taking a plane didn't seem to make sense for such a short ride; planes were for oceans, not roads. I never minded, though; losing oneself after the first few hours with nothing but one's own thoughts and the constant view of trees, mountains, small towns, and cloudy skies passing by. Cathartic, almost like an out-of-body experience. Dad wasn't one to stop to grab snacks, since he doesn't eat much anyway, but mom always made sure to pack a few Twix bars in her bag for him to munch on when sleepiness struck. Always Twix. Eventually, it became routine, just as constant as the trees, mountains, small towns, and cloudy skies. Though there's little time for family trips now, I'll sometimes reach into my bag when driving back to my apartment, expecting to find a Twix bar waiting.

Chocolate reminds me of a summer in Italy. Hiking through stone roads, surrounded by old Baroque architecture to the hilltops of Ragusa cities, seeking refuge from the glaring heat in cafes. Cups upon cups of gelato, in every flavor imaginable, from tiramisu to cioccolate negro to stracciatella. Most of all, I long for the taste of Modica chocolate, which must be the most exquisite chocolate I've ever eaten, grainy with its lack of cocoa butter, intense flavor bursting straight from the cacao beans, infused with lavendar, vanilla, chilli pepper. The taste stll lingers somewhere deep in my mind, but far enough away that I know I'll have to return to Modica to get it back.

Needless to say, I love chocolate. And so when this month's Daring Baker's Challenge turned out to be chocolate candy, I was more than thrilled. Tommy and I plotted for a while about how we would approach the challenge [we had to select two types of candies to make, one in the realm of bonbons and truffles and the  other, either chocolate or non-chocolate, of our choice].

White Chocolate Coconut-Pecan Truffles

You'll need:

• 1 3/4 cups [9 oz] white chocolate chips
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 cup ground pecans
• 2/3 cup toasted shredded coconut

Finely chop or grate the chocolate and place it in a heatproof bowl.  In a medium-sized saucepan over medium flame, heat cream until just about to boil. Quickly remove the cream and pour it over the chocolate. Stir the chocolate until it's smooth and melted. Add in the ground pecans and toasted coconut [if desired, reserve some of each for rolling later] and stir until uniform. Cover the top of the bowl loosely with clingwrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours, until firm.

To roll the chocolate, scoop tablespoon-sized balls of chocolate with a spoon or melon scooper. Roll the chocolate in your palms to smooth the edges. Dip the chocolate in the reserved coconut flakes or pecans, if desired. Set chocolate balls on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and return to the fridge to chill completely. Once set, chocolate can be stored at room temperature in an airtight container.


Bittersweet Chocolate Bark

You'll need:

• 2 cups [12 oz] bittersweet chocolate
• toppings of choice; suggested:
• dried cherries, prunes, or raisins
• pretzels
• toffee bits
• butterscotch or peanut butter chips
• toasted pecans, walnuts, hazelnuts, cashews, chopped
• crushed coffee beans

Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. In a medium-sized saucepan over medium flame, heat chocolate until smooth and melted. Remove chocolate from the heat and pour onto the parchment paper. Smooth evenly with a knife. Sprinkle desired toppings evenly over the melted chocolate. Refrigerate chocolate until set, 2-3 hours. Either break or cut into pieces. Store at room temperature in an airtight container.

Bark jumped out at me immediately, because of the beautiful simplicity and almost guaranteed deliciousness of the stuff, but the other was trickier. In the end, though, truffles won out. They always make me think of Stockholm fashions, Parisian autumns, and Swiss train rides. Like enjoying chocolate in childlike innocence and bliss, behind a mask of elegance and an air of being grown-up. Almost sinful in its deception, but delicious enough not to matter in the least.

In other words, upon contemplation, it was a no-brainer as our second choice.

Like bark, I love truffles for their diversity. There is an endless combination of flavors that one can utilize with truffles, but for some reason, the combination of white chocolate [which I'm normally rather opposed to because I think it tastes like plastic coated in artifical sugar], toasted coconut, and pecans jumped out at me. I suggested it to Tommy, who was absolutely for the idea, and so he walked over after I got home from work [he now lives in the apartment complex right behind mine, which means that weight gain from baking dates seems inevitable] and we got to cooking.

 

We were quite pleased to find that these desserts are effortlessly simple and extremely quick to prepare; probably no more than 20 minutes were spent prepping the candy, and the bulk of our time was spent watching the second episode of Sherlock [we figure that it'll be during the September challenge that Tommy finishes up the series] while waiting for the candy to set. And then, of course, taste-testing the end results, which were mouthwateringly good.

But I expected little else. It is chocolate, after all. And after a lifetime of delicious memories, it wasn't about to fail me.

[short and sweet] sea salted chocolate-caramel shortbread bars

You know, an unexpected earthquake and hurricane really liven things up during an otherwise dull first week of term.

Though, admittedly, I didn't realize the earthquake was actually an earthquake until making it to Starbucks and finding myself amongst noisy chatter concerning the coming of the apocalypse. I just thought it was, you know, construction. Not to mention the irony of Hurricane Irene hitting this weekend [by irony I mean the name; as if I didn't already have Sherlock on the brain 20 hours a day, it somehow finds a way to permeate every aspect of my existence]. Life is full of unexpected surprises, I suppose.

Anyway, first week is over, and I'm heading home for the weekend. On my way back, I'll be making a pit-stop in the city to visit Brinay and bring her a [not-so-surprise] treat for her birthday this weekend. Sea salted chocolate-caramel shortbread bars. I asked Brinay a few days ago what she would want if I, hypothetically of course, happened to bake her something for the occasion. All she said to me was "chocolate," but that was more than enough.

I happened across a recipe for chocolate dulce de leche bars on the interweb, but altered the recipe to my own tastes. Mainly with the addition of sea salt on top. Chocolate is wonderful for its versatility, and I wanted to try something new. Chili powder was an option as well, though I think that's best suited for a dessert a little...grander. A mousse or cake, perhaps. But birthday bars? Nah. For these, I kept 'em short, sweet, and just a little bit salty.

Sea Salted Chocolate-Caramel Shortbread Bars
Adapted from Nutmeg Nanny

For the shortbread crust, you'll need:

• 1 stick unsalted butter, softened
• 1/3 cup brown sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• pinch of salt
• 3/4 cup flour
• 1/4 cup almond meal
• 1/4 cup ground pecans

For the chocolate-caramel topping, you'll need:

• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1 14-oz can dulce de leche
• 4 egg yolks
• 4 oz semisweet chocolate, chopped
• approximately 1/2 tsp sea salt, to sprinkle

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit and line and grease an 8x8-inch square pan. To prepare the crust, beat butter, sugar, and vanilla until smooth and fluffy. Add in flour, almond meal, pecans, and salt, and mix until the dough comes together. Press dough evenly onto the base of the pan. Bake for 13-15 minutes, until crust is golden-brown. Let cool at least 30 minutes.

To prepare the chocolate topping, simmer heavy cream and dulce de leche in a medium-sized saucepan over medium heat. Whisk mixture until dulce de leche is completely melted. In a separate bowl, whisk egg yolks. Slowly pour about 1/4 cup of the hot caramel mixture into the egg yolks, while still whisking, to temper them. Pour the hot egg yolk mixture back into the saucepan, and mix until the chocolate begins to thicken. Continue whisking at a simmer for 4-5 minutes, until mixture is thick enough to resemble pudding. Remove the pan from the heat and whisk in the chocolate.

Let the chocolate mixture cool 10-15 minutes before pouring on top of the cooled crust. Chill the bars, uncovered, for an hour. Sprinkle the sea salt evenly over top of the chocolate, and then return the bars to the fridge and chill for another two hours before slicing. Store bars in the fridge for up to 3 days.

These are quite delicious. The topping is soft, almost the consistency of a dense mousse, and each bite melts in your mouth in the most pleasant way. You want to use a very small amount of sea salt on top, since sea salt itself has such an intense depth of flavor. Just a hint is enough to make you think there's something more than just chocolate, but hardly enough to make you realize it until you lick your lips and taste traces of saltiness left behind.

A new dimension to ordinary chocolate bars. One I'm hoping Brinay will enjoy when I see her in a few hours.


As for the semester, I'm anticipating a busy one. I've already been confronted with more reading than I expected having to do on a week-to-week basis, none of which I'm too excited about. Still, not having class on Fridays helps.

And I mean, if one of your required readings is a biography of Leonardo da Vinci, it can't be all bad. I anticipate many days of tea, scones, and art history in my future.

torta di grigna

I hate moving. Not that I get particularly attached to any one location, so the issue isn't the fact that I'm leaving a house I've lived in for 11 years. I will miss the familiarity, of course, but as for the house itself. Well, when you're moving about 2 miles away, it's not going to be much of a loss.

The problem with moving is the moving. The boxes, the cleaning, the stress, discovering old things you thought you had thrown away, and regret not having thrown away because they bring back awkward memories of your childhood idiocy and embarrassing old hobbies [though, mountains upon mountains of Barbie dolls and miniature toy cars make quite an interesting dichotomy].

It's Sunday afternoon, and between absorbing the defense's closing arguments in the Casey Anthony trial [yes, I have been following this trial since my return home, and find it highly interesting, if not very sad] and listening to my father steam-clean the carpet for pending potential buyers coming to visit the house, I imagine how hectic the next month or so is going to be. Full of stress, cleaning, and boxes.

After all, there are 11 years of memories in this house. That's quite a lot to fit into cardboard and ship off.

Nonetheless, today I go back to the apartment, and I'll be there for the next two weeks. [Note that my return home aligns perfectly with the release of Deathly Hallows Part II. This is not a coincidence.] And by then, I assume I will spend my weekend home folding clothes and squeezing trinkets into small compartments, trying my best not to break anything [and probably failing anyway].

So it was only fitting that when I baked a chocolate and almond cake this morning, mom solemnly told me, in no uncertain terms,

"Sabeen, this is the last cake you are ever going to bake in this house. Ever."

I responded with a raise of my eyebrow and look of deadpan indifference. And then we both laughed, sliced the cake, and took a break from the chaos.

Since the start of the summer, I am pleased and mortified to say that I have ordered 5 new cookbooks. This brings my total collection up to...a number which is far too disconcerting to share. [Also, I'm not exactly sure how many. But it is a lot.] One, which I am currently enjoying immensely, is Jessica Theroux's Cooking with Italian Grandmothers. Jessica shares colorful stories of her year spent in Italy, traveling from Tuscany to Sicily, staying with twelve or so different nonne, tasting and cooking her way through the country's diverse, regional cuisine.

Basically, what I wish my life was always.

This torta di Grigna, or cocoa and almond cake, comes from the mountains of Lombardia. It's a dense cake, though not terribly sweet, so would be perfect with afternoon tea or coffee.

Or, if you're me, some sweetened cream or vanilla ice cream on the side to make it decadent.

Torta di Grigna
Adapted from Cooking with Italian Grandmothers

You'll need:

• 1 1/2 cups [2 1/2 sticks] unsalted butter, softened
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 5 large eggs, separated
• 3/4 cup heavy cream [substitute with whole milk if cream is unavailable]
• 1 cup raw almonds, chopped
• 2 cups flour
• 2 tbsp cocoa powder
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp baking soda
• pinch of salt 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and grease a 9-inch springform pan.

In a bowl, cream butter and sugar with an electric mixer until light and fluffy. Add egg yolks and cream and mix on medium-high speed until fully incorporated, 3-4 minutes. Using a wooden spoon, stir in half of the chopped almonds [reserve the other 1/2 cup], flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, and stir until blended. The batter is thick and stiff, so it may take a fair amount of effort to mix the batter well.

In a separate bowl, whip the egg whites until they form soft peaks. Gently fold the egg whites into the cake batter, stirring with the wooden spoon. Spoon the thick batter into the prepared pan and spread it out evenly. Sprinkle the top of the cake with the remaining chopped almonds.

Bake for 60-70 minutes, until the center of the cake is springy, but not jiggly, and the edges of the cake begin pulling away from the sides of the pan. Allow the cake to cool in the pan for about 10 minutes before transferring to a serving plate. Serve warm or at room temperature.

It's a pretty good cake. Airy and light, despite the denseness, and the flavor of the almonds is warmly nutty without being too overpowering.

It was also a nice centerpiece for the downstairs table for our potential buyers, so a win-win situation all around.

On an unrelated note, I have never had more television shows on my list than I do currently. I did have an entire week to get to it, but I honestly think I watched a grand total of maybe 3 hours of TV since my return. [The trial doesn't count. That's current events. And anything relevant to life never counts as a waste of time.] But, really, when did television actually get good again? Sherlock, Camelot, Rome, Battlestar Galactica, How I Met Your Mother, Modern Family, the list goes on.

Good thing I've got nothing else to do for the next six weeks.

{DBC} marquise on meringue

It's not actually the 27th quite yet; in fact, it's only the 16th. But since I won't be in the country then, this month's DBC was completed ahead of time, and I've written up this post early to submit on the 27th [Valencia time].

Moving on, I visited Tommy earlier today for our monthly DBC bake-date, and had a lovely time creating this month's challenge: chocolate marquise on meringue.

Chocolate marquise is a French dessert akin to a souffle, though much more dense, consisting of whipped cream folded with egg yolks and a chocolate base sauce. The challenge for this month was to create a marquise and serve it atop torched meringue, and to offset some of the sweetness of the meringue and richness of the chocolate marquise, Tommy and I opted for a mixed berry compote.

[This is one of those desserts for which you'll have to undo the top button of your jeans.]

The actual challenge recipe seems somewhat daunting, since there are so many parts to it, but it's pretty simple over all. I'll give you the recipes for the marquise and the meringue [both of which are a quarter of the full quantity], and as for sauces, you can use any you'd like. The given sauce was a tequila caramel sauce, but I thought caramel might have been too heavy. So instead, we went with a mixed berry compote. Tommy had also suggested white chocolate sauce, and fudge or any other sort of berry sauce would work just as well. It's your prerogative.

Chocolate Marquise on Meringue
Adapted from the May Daring Baker's Challenge
Yields 6 2x2-inch cubes

 For the chocolate base, you'll need:

• 3 oz bittersweet chocolate (about 70% cocoa)
• 1/3 cup plus 2 tsp heavy cream
• 1/8 tsp salt
• 1/4 tsp cayenne
• 1 tbsp agave syrup
• 1/4 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 tbsp Dutch-processed cocoa powder
• dash freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 tbsp butter, softened

For the chocolate marquise, you'll need:

• 3 large egg yolks
• 1 large egg
• 2 tbsp plus 2 tsp sugar
• 1 tbsp plus 1 tsp water
• chocolate base, barely warm
• 1/2 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder

For the meringue, you'll need:

• 3 large egg whites
• 1/2 cup minus 1 tbsp sugar
• 1/4 tsp vanilla
• pinch of cream of tartar

To prepare the chocolate base:
Heat whipping cream and chocolate in a microwave-safe bowl for 30 seconds. Remove and stir the chocolate until it melts. If need be, heat for an additional 10 seconds, but be careful not to over heat. Stir in remaining ingredients and set aside.



To prepare the chocolate marquise:
Line a small loaf pan with parchment paper and set aside. Beat egg yolks and egg on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy, 10-15 minutes. When the eggs are getting close to finishing, make a sugar syrup by combining the sugar and water in a small saucepan. Bring the syrup to a boil, and then reduce heat and cook for an additional 45-60 seconds. Lower the mixer speed and quickly pour the sugar syrup into the eggs. Increase mixer speed to high and beat until the bowl is cool to the touch, at least 8-10 minutes. Lower the speed to medium, and pour the cooled chocolate base into the egg mixture and mix until just combined, about 1 minute.

Meanwhile, whip the heavy cream until soft peaks form. Fold 1/3 of the whipped cream into the chocolate mixture to lighten the batter, and then fold in the remaining cream, being careful not to deflate the mixture. Pour the marquise into the prepared pan and cover the top [directly touching the marquise] with plastic wrap, making sure that no air bubbles are trapped underneath. Put in the freezer and chill for 3-4 hours [if possible, 6-8 is ideal], until marquise is firm.



To prepare the meringue [do this when ready to plate]:
Preheat the broiler in your oven. Beat egg whites, sugar, and vanilla on high speed until soft peaks form, 5-7 minutes. Add in cream of tartar and beat until stiff peaks form. Gently scoop a generous amount of meringue onto a heat-proof plate. Stick the plate under the broiler, watching it carefully, until the top of the meringue turns a golden brown. This will happen very quickly, so it's important to keep a close eye on the meringue. Remove from the broiler and allow the meringue to cool for at least 5 minutes.



To assemble the marquise on meringue:
When ready to plate, remove the marquise from the freezer. While it's still hard, remove it from the pan by pulling on the parchment 'handles' or by flipping it over onto another piece of parchment.

Cut it into cubes and allow the cubes to sit in the fridge to thaw slowly, about 10 minutes. Once softened, roll the cubes in the cocoa powder. These will start to melt almost immediately, so make sure the plated meringue is on hand. Arrange the marquise on top of the meringue [but handle as little as possible, as these can get very messy] and drizzle with sauce or compote. Place the plated marquise in the fridge and wait until they've softened completely before serving.

In all honesty, the quartered recipe only called for 1/16 tsp of cayenne pepper, but Tommy accidentally added 1/4 tsp [following the original quantity]. Needless to say, I loved the extra heat in the chocolate, so I've kept the 1/4 tsp measurement. But if you're more sensitive to heat, then by all means reduce the quantity. I wouldn't suggest omitting it completely, because it gives the marquise a very intriguing depth of flavor that is far too unique to forgo. We also broiled the meringue rather than torching it, because (1) we didn't have a blowtorch on hand, and (2) we wanted to give the meringue a more even tan. It worked out just as well.

Ours also turned out somewhat messier than it should have...because we waited approximately 2 hours for the marquise to freeze instead of the minimum 3. In future, if I prepare this, I will probably allow it to freeze for the full 8 hours simply for ease of cutting and handling. But the 2 were more than enough for us, and it was still amazingly decadent.

As for next month's challenge...there is almost a guarantee that I will not be participating. However, I promised Tommy I would send him the challenge if he's interested in whatever is selected for June. If he likes it, he has offered to prepare it, in which case I'll update with the challenge post on the 27th and give all credit to him for participating for me.

And as long as it's not something I've been dying to make, I think I can handle a month without baking.

It might even be a welcome break.

[I anticipate suffering withdrawal symptoms two weeks from now.]

toffee blondies in a jar

A few weeks ago, I was having a conversation with MattMatt about personality types and the like, which is somewhat unsurprising given that the two of us often speculate on the nature of mankind together [when I'm not teaching him how to virtually assassinate Templars on an HD console]. I'm not actually quite sure how the topic came up to begin with, but it panned out interestingly.

[For example, how between the middle of high school and now, my personality has almost completely flipped from an ENTJ to an INFJ, both of which were highly accurate given their respective time periods. And how Matt's an ENFP (from what I remember), which to me is also spot-on.]

Regardless, I remember Matt telling me how there are five primary ways that we [humans] express love and affection.

1. spending time together
2. verbal exchanges of affection
3. physical exchanges of affection
4. physical actions to show affection
5. buying and giving gifts

I found this quite interesting. One, because I had never heard it before; and two, because I think humankind is such a fascinating entity. An entity which I'm always trying to figure out, at least when I can shove my cynicism aside, though for the most part one that I think will always remain, in some ways, an enigma.


Not to mention that philosophy, although enlightening in regards to many areas of contemplation, has only made me more skeptical about how I think about the matter. But perhaps that's the point.

Anyway, I digress. If I had to choose, I think I'd fall into categories 4 and 5 of the above. Doing things for others and giving things to others. Not that I'm morally opposed to the other three in any way, I am just more of a doer than a...speaker? Cuddler? Extrovert? I could also be completely misguided as to my own character, since I'm always learning new things [both positive and negative] about myself, but it doesn't change the fact that I do love giving gifts. At least, those with some shred of sentimental value.

Which is why I bake, of course. It's not like I do it for my own health [quite the contrary, in fact, seeing as how it's just about the worst thing I could be doing for my own health], but I like to see others' faces light up when I give them something I've made just for them. I put a lot of thought into what I decide to bake for others, based on their personality or our friendship, what they like and what they don't, their hobbies and interests, etc.

And yet, sometimes I get bored with the baking. Especially for my good friends. Not that they dislike dessert, but sometimes I just want to do something different. And so I decided to try.

In a few days' time, I will be boarding a plane. It will be my first time on a plane in two years, I believe, which is somewhat of a long time for me [given how my family used to travel to Pakistan every other year to see family before the political climate became somewhat unfavorable and Yusra and I started having to do real schoolwork]. This time, though, I'm leaving for Europe, Valencia to be precise, to hone my fluency [or lack thereof] in the Spanish language. I'll be living with Liz in a homestay, one street away from Zach, and attending university five days a week, studying history of modern Spanish art and phonetics. A short visit, granted, but 4 weeks is all I need to fall in love with a country and make a vow to return.

I realize that I'll be back home before I know it [much to my dismay], but as soon as I am I'll be helping my parents move into their new house, and it'll be scarcely a week after that I'm back at my apartment, interning and working part-time [with frequent, short trips back home on the weekends, of course] until the fall semester begins. Not a whole lot of time to be spent with friends, unfortunately. So before my departure, I decided I wanted to leave a few parting gifts to the Fab Four, of the dessert variety, because at this point they expect nothing different from me, though this time with a small twist: toffee blondies in a jar.

I've seen this done in the past, though I myself had never tried it prior to this past weekend, when I prepared a jar to give to Brinay as a gift. It turned out much better than I thought it would [I also anticipate the worst, most of the time], and she seemed to love the idea, so I knew I had discovered something pretty neat. The concept is simple: layer all of the dry ingredients artfully [i.e. alternating colors, somewhat akin to sand art] in a quart-sized mason jar, and attach a small card with the appropriate quantities of wet ingredients and baking directions, so that the receiver is actually the baker. An inversion of my traditional baked-good-present, but one that I think is really fun for whomever I'm giving it to. Plus, it's easy as peas to bake: all you need to do is dump the contents of the jar into a large bowl, whisk the wet ingredients together, and mix them with the dry ingredients until they come together in a batter. Pour the batter into a prepared pan, and bake in a preheated oven for half an hour for deliciousness.

Toffee Blondies in a Jar
Adapted from bakedbree
Recipe makes one mason jar

You'll need:

• 1 quart-sized mason jar [can be found in any craft store]
• 1 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 cup mini chocolate chips 
• 1 cup flour
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 3/4 cup chopped pecans or walnuts
• 1/2 cup toffee chips

• 1/4 cup [1/2 stick] butter, melted
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1 tsp vanilla

To prepare the mason jar:
Carefully layer the brown sugar, chocolate chips, flour, baking powder, salt, chopped nuts, and toffee chips. This is most easily done with a 1/4 cup measure, as this will pour the contents most effectively through the opening of the jar. Try to gently level out the ingredients with each addition.

To prepare the blondies [note: this is what you'll want to write on the notecard, along with the measurements of the wet ingredients]:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line and grease an 8x8-inch square pan.
In a large bowl, whisk the melted butter, eggs, and vanilla until blended. Dump the contents of the jar into the bowl, and mix with the wet ingredients until fully incorporated. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 25-30 minutes, or until blondies start to pull away from the sides of the pan. Cool in the pan and cut into 16 bars.

I love how these things look; they're just adorable. Nitya, Hannah, and Noosh loved them as well, and so I was more than pleased. I'm sure they'll taste divine too, though perhaps in future I'll add a layer of coconut flakes. Or peanut butter chips. Cocoa powder for brownies, too.

Oh! The possibilities are endless! This is definitely a treat I'd like to expand upon in future.

Hope you enjoy them as much as we did :)