Molly's Chocolate Cake

Jeanne from Cookisister posted the loveliest poem on her blog the other day. Please go there and read it quickly. Are you back? Isn't it lovely? We all know that feeling of suddently catching sight of yourself in an unexpected moment. Unfortunately the last time it happened to me was not that great. I saw a picture of myself taken at Christmas, and I was absolutely shocked about the amount of weight I've put on. I blame the fact that we don't have a full-lenghth mirror in our new house. Of course I noticed my jeans not fitting quite as well as they should, but I haven't actually realised how fat I look. Must be all those Christmas Cookies I made and sampled. And ate. So I did what any reasonable person in my situation would do - I made a chocolate cake and ate half of it before it was even properly cooled down.

But it was so worth it. It was after all the recipe from the lovely Molly Wizenberg from the lovely Orangette, whose book A Homemade Life was the January choice for the lovely book club I'm lucky enough to be part of. (I agree, enough with the "lovely"s, but that's what this cake does to you, I swear). What a great book. I enjoyed absolutely every letter of it. Every chapter, every story, every recipe. Orangette is one of the blogs I read from the first post for three days straight until the last when I found it. Her blog has so much character and warmth, and this book only added depth and more background. I loved reading about her childhood, her time in Paris, her memories of her dad, and getting to know the lovely Brandon a little better.

And oh, the recipes. How lovely are the recipes. My favourite thing about a new book these days  is deciding what to cook after reading it. Usually I make up my mind pretty early on. Not with A Homemade Life. Everything sounded so delicious, I changed my mind every few pages. Banana bread with chocolate and crystallized ginger. No, coeurs a la creme with raspberry puree. No, chocolate cupcakes. No, Hooser Pie. Anyway, halfway through the book I realised I'll just have to start from the beginning and work my way through to the end.

Then the book fell into the bath. I love reading in the bath late at night (multifunctioning, you see), and in an unguarded moment the book fell into the water. It was soaked. And, I'm sorry to say, this is not the first book it happened to. You'd think I'd learn my lesson, but no. Still reading in the bath. So I had to race through the last few (wet) pages before it dried out and became impossible to read. I left it open at the last recipe when I finished, just in case I couldn't open the book again without tearing the pages. And the recipe happened to be this one for chocolate cake.

Now, taking the risk of sounding cras, I just want to say that this cake is bloody awesome. Actually, cake is a term applied pretty loosely here. I'm not sure that any recipe calling for a huge amount of chocolate, ditto for the butter, eggs, lots of sugar, and a single tablespoon of flour could technically be called a cake. Not that I mind. "Chocolate" and "too rich" are not words I ever use in the same sentence. I couldn't wait for this cake to come out of the oven. The smell was pure chocolate - dark and rich and smokey. And the sight of all that gooey, wobbly chocolate was more than I could take. Like I mentioned before, it was halfway gone soon after coming out of the pan. This was actually intended for dinner that night with my family-in-law, and I can't tell you how relieved I was when there was only one other taker. So much more for me. In fact, I had to force myself to take a picture of at least the last slice so that I have something to show you, before eating it straight from the plate with my fingers. Sorry about that.

So, the diet starts tomorrow. I'm thinking I'll have to stop sampling recipes from this book at least until I've lost a few centimetres, because I'm absolutely sure they'll all turn out this lovely. Just like the blog and it's author.

Molly's Chocolate Cake
Serves 1, or around 8 if you're more restrained than I am

200g bittersweet chocolate, chopped
200g unsalted butter, cubed
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons granualted sugar
5 large eggs
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
Whipped cream, to serve (I never got round to this, but I'm sure it's delicious)

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius, and butter a 20cm round cake tin. Line the botton of the pan with baking paper, and butter the paper too.

Slowly heat the chocolate and butter in a bowl over simmering water until melted, stirring until smooth. Add the sugar and stir well to incorporate. Set the batter aside to cool for 5 minutes.

Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each one. Add the flour and stir well until incorporated. The mixture will be dark and sily (yes, indeed, it will)

Pour the batter into the prepared cake tin, and bake for about 25 minutes. The top will be lightly cracked, but edges puffed, and the centre of the cake will look set, but wobble ever so slightly when you jiggle the pan.

Let the cake cool in the tin for 15 minutes, then turn it out onto a serving plate. (you will need two plates to flip it over on).

Supposedly this cake is even better after frozen, and the lovely miss Molly suggests you freeze it for at least 24 hours, then defrost before serving. If you have the self-discipline to do this, you're a better man than I am. It's pretty bloody good straight away. And then about half and hour later. And then 2 hours later for dessert. And the last bit the next morning for breakfast. Try not to make it when there's other people in the house - they might just want a piece.

Book Club catch-up part 2: Chicken Tagine with Dates and Honey

Sometimes, if you make a mistake, it's best to just deny any knowledge of the situation alltogether, as proven by politicians all over the world on a daily basis. Except, if your name is in print as having made the original decision, unfortunately you just have to own up, apologise, and move on. Which is what I'm going to do right now.

The October book choice for This Book Makes Me Cook was The Caliph's House, by Tahir Shah. It's the story about a writer who moves to Casablanca into a magnificent old house, and all the stories about his new life, including the renovations of said house. Sounds interesting, doesn't it? I know, that's what I thought. Which is why I chose it when Simran asked me to nominate a few books for the members to choose from. I thought I'll do an African theme. I chose two South African, a Moroccan and an Egyptian book to chose from. Admittedly, I didn't know anything about the Moroccan and Egyptian books, but I gathered that that is what Amazon reviews are for. One review of Caliph's House reads: "This is a very funny and readable account of Tahir Shah's ordeals trying to remodel a decrepit palace in Casablanca. In some ways, Shah's account reads like a man's Moroccan version of UNDER THE TUSCAN SUN. It's less romantic and food-oriented, but references the similar nightmares and pleasures involved with restoring an ancient dwelling." Forgive me for thinking this sounded like a good story.

Except it wasn't. I'll give you a few highlights:

• Seconds after receiving the keys to the house, a terrorist bomb explodes outside the building. Not a good start, in my humble opinion.
• The house is basically inhabitable, and the whole family is forced to sleep in one room on the floor, together with rats.
• The house came with staff, who believe they are really in charge, not the new owner. Hence all requests and orders fall on deaf ears.
• The jinns. Wether you believe in them or not, they really run the show. Everything bad that happens are due to them. Everything good that happens are due to them. You need to avoid them, placate them, make sacrifices, etc.etc. You catch my drift.
• The author's first assistant abandons him because her jinn told her to.
• The author is required to acquire a second wife to cut through some red tape. I think there was also a jinn involved somehow.
• The neighbours are part of the local mafia.

I found the whole story extremely frustrating, and I promise that if it were us, we would have been back in England within a couple of months. You've got to chose your battles. Now, I'm really worried that I'm offending somebody by saying all this. I thoroughly believe that every person on earth should be allowed to believe in anything he or she choses to believe in, and as long as nobody gets hurt, the details are really none of anybody's business. What got to me here was the absolute frustration of the whole book. Every single thing became a battle with no rules and no hope of ever understanding exactly what is going on.

However, like most things in life, it wasn't all bad. I did learn some interesting things about Casablancan history and architecture. I learned that there are people going around the world who watch the movie Casablanca in as many different countries as possible. And then there's the food. At least this poor family managed to eat well. There is mention of spices, lamb, couscous, coffee, tagines, and everything else you expect to read about in a book about Morocco. One consolitation I had was that our book club members won't have any difficulty in deciding what to cook.

I decided pretty early on that it will have to be a tagine, and I decided on a chicken, honey and date version. Now, as bad as this book was, that's how good this recipe is. I found it on Epicurious, and adapted it according to some of the comments. The original recipe called for dried apricots, but because the Fabulous Man has a thing about fruit in food other than dessert, I substituted it with dates so it can blend in a bit better. I also cut the amount of honey, and doubled the spices, as suggested by some readers. To call this dish fabulous is an absolute understatement. I'm always on the lookout for dishes that are quick and easy to make, but the fact that this one doesn't taste quick and easy is a plus. Which just goes to show: if everything in life goes haywire, just focus on the food. You'll always feel better.

Chicken Tagine with Honey, Dates and Almonds
Serves 4

 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 teaspoons ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon turmeric
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons ras el hanout
olive oil
6 chicken thigh fillets
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 medium red onion, halved, then sliced 1/4 inch thick
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1/2 cup chicken stock
a small handful of fresh coriander leaves, chopped
a small handful of fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
1 tablespoon mild honey
1 cup water
1  cinnamon stick
1/2 cup dried dates, chopped
1/3 cup whole blanched almonds

Stir together ground cinnamon, ginger, turmeric, ras el hanout, pepper, 1 teaspoon salt, and 2 tablespoons oil in a large bowl. Add chicken and turn to coat well.

Heat butter and 1 tablespoon oil in base of tagine (or in skillet), uncovered, over moderate heat until hot but not smoking, then cook half of the chicken until browned both sides. Transfer to a plate. Brown remaining chicken in same manner, adding any spice mixture left in bowl.

Add onion and remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt to tagine and cook, uncovered, stirring frequently, until soft, about 8 minutes. Add garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, 3 minutes. Add to the tagine 1/2 cup chicken stock, chicken, and any juices accumulated on plate. Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 30 minutes.

While chicken cooks, bring honey, water, cinnamon stick, and dates to a boil in a  heavy saucepan, then reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, until dates are very tender (add more water if necessary). Once dates are tender, simmer until liquid is reduced to a glaze.

While the dates cook, heat 2 tablespoons oil in a small skillet over moderate heat and cook almonds, stirring occasionally, until just golden, 1 to 2 minutes. Transfer with a slotted spoon to paper towels to drain.

Ten minutes before chicken is done, add the date mixture and the chopped herbs to tagine. Discard the cinnamon stick, and serve chicken sprinkled with almonds on top.

Book Club catch-up part 1: Roast Pumpkin with Cheese Fondue

I have a theory: You can tell a great book by the first sentence. I'll give you a couple of examples: "I wish Giovanni would kiss me", Eat Pray Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert. "When you are just the right age, as Mma Ramotswe was, and when you have seen a bit of life, as Mma Ramotswe certainly had, then there are certain things that you just know." Blue Shoes and Happiness, Alexander McCall Smith. "You gonna eat that?" Garlic and Sapphires, by Ruth Reichl.

Garlic and Sapphires was This Book Makes Me Cook July book choice. I can't remember if I voted for this book or not, but if I did, it was a random, but very lucky choice. Ruth is the new food critic for the New York Times, moving from Los Angeles. Except, being as serious as New Yorkers are about their food and restaurants, everybody knows what she looks like long before she arrives. Reportedly her photo is up in every kitchen in Manhattan and beyond, and Ruth is forced to don several different disguises to make sure her visits to the restaurants remain unnoticed.

Not surprisingly the book is filled with wonderful stories about delicious food and a variety of restaurants - some better than others. I learnt about soba noodles: " They are made of buckwheat, which has no gluten. That means that getting them to hold together is an act of will. They say it takes a year to learn to mix the dough, another year to learn to roll it, a third to learn the correct cut. In Japan they like soba because they taste good. But they like them even more because they are difficult to make." Ms Reichl also tells us about a sushi restaurant she discovers by accident when she follows a stylish Japanese lady dressed in Manolo Blahnik and Hermes. She talks about tuna that melts in the mouth like whipped cream, and some abalone which was "more like some exotic mushroom than something from the ocean with a slightly musky flavor that made me think of ferns", and sea urchin:" ...this is the sexiest thing I've ever eaten. Let's stop now."

What did catch me by surprise, though, was the effect her disguises had on not only the people around her, but on Ruth herself. Dressed as the vivacious Brenda she felt alive and full of fun. Chloe was expensive and glamorous. Dressed as her mother, Mirian, she became critical and made a scene about every dish put in front of her, exactly like the real Miriam used to do. Another of her disguises were of a little old lady called Betty. Not only did she feel unnoticed, ignored and unloved, but was treated exactly like that by waiters and other people on the street. This had an even more profound effect on me than the wonderful stories about the sushi. Isn't it sad how we treat people by the way they look? Who are we to judge somebody based solely on an impression formed in the first few split seconds after having met them? I promised myself that I will at least try to treat everybody I meet with respect. I can always change my mind later. It also reminded me that the way we look has a huge effect on the way we feel, so next time I'm feeling tired and frumpy, I'll put on some make-up and a blonde wig. (You're right, that's over the top. Forget the make-up).

The book has several very delicious-looking recipes, one of spaghetti carbonara which is what I wanted to make initially. However, after having visited the Gourmet website with new eyes (Ruth Reichl left the New York Times to become the editor of Gourmet) I stumbled upon a wonderful recipe for pumpkin fondue. What you do is this: you hollow out a pumpkin, fill it with layers of cheese, bread and cream, and bake it in the oven until it all becomes one gooey delicious mess. Emphasis on the delicious. Honestly, do I need to say more than cheese, bread and cream? Isn't that enough to make you drool all over the keyboard?

Dear people, if you haven't yet read this book, please consider doing so. Not only will it make you laugh, and look at noodles with different eyes, it might even make you consider wearing an outrageous wig, just to see how you feel in it. But most of all it will make you want to eat something delicious as soon as possible, like this pumpkin fondue. Give in, dear readers. No use resisting good food.

Roast Pumpkin with Cheese Fondue

Serves 8
Original recipe at Gourmet

1 piece of baguette, cut into 1 cm slices (200g total)
3kg orange pumpkin
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
1 cup reduced-sodium chicken or vegetable broth
1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
2 1/2 cups coarsely grated Gruyère 
2 1/2 cups coarsely grated Emmental
1 tablespoon olive oil

Preheat oven to 220°C with rack in lower third.

Toast baguette slices in 1 layer on a baking sheet in oven until tops are crisp (bread will still be pale), about 7 minutes. Transfer to a rack to cool.

Remove top of pumpkin by cutting a circle (about 8cm in diameter) around stem with a small sharp knife. Scrape out seeds and any loose fibers from inside pumpkin with a spoon (including top of pumpkin; reserve seeds for another use if desired). Season inside of pumpkin with 1/2 tsp salt.

Whisk together cream, broth, nutmeg, 1 tsp salt, and 1/2 tsp pepper in a bowl. Mix together cheeses in another bowl.

Put a layer of toasted bread in bottom of pumpkin, then cover with about 1 cup cheese and about 1/2 cup cream mixture. Continue layering bread, cheese, and cream mixture until pumpkin is filled to about 2cm from top, using all of cream mixture. (You may have some bread and cheese left over.)

Cover pumpkin with top and put in an oiled small roasting pan. Brush outside of pumpkin all over with olive oil. Bake until pumpkin is tender and filling is puffed, 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 hours.

 Pumpkin can be filled 2 hours before baking and chilled.

Julie/Julia & Martha Stewart

A few years ago I decided that going to England to work would be an adventure. I applied to an agency who organised everything for me: job, work permit, medical examination, and all the paraphernalia necessary to convince UK immigration you're a) not a terrorist, b) not going to deplete the national budget by claiming welfare and c) generally an all-round OK person with nothing illegal on/in my person. Easier said than done, which I'm sure many of you are aware of.

Once through the immigration obstacle course, I plunged into my job with all the enthusiasm that befits a foreigner, and found that the job I chose was actually terrible. The job description was something like "Medical officer on duty at all hours to provide medical care should the attending physician be unavailable", but should really have been "The idiot they're going to call at 3 in the morning to discuss with Mrs. Smith in Bed 7 the recent surgery her daughter's roommate's cousin's mother had to undergo in a hospital in Portugal. Also, while you're at it, all the other odd jobs nobody else could be bothered to do". Then again, they paid a lot of money, so I probably would have done it anyway.

During these long, lonely hours with limp brussels sprouts and overcooked beef roast swimming in bland gravy (UK Hospital food 24/7 is everything you expect and more) and Maltesers from the vending machine as my only sustenance, I found the comfort of online book clubs. In particular the Big Read Messageboard on the BBC website, sadly not in existency anymore. I got to know a whole lot of interesting people, and read many books I otherwise wouldn't have, all from the privacy of my converted private hospital bed next to the hospital kitchen with the limp brussel sprouts smell. I loved it.

Later in Australia, when I fell pregnant with the Little Girl, and got so ill that I only moved from the couch to the bathroom for 7 months (as this is a food blog I won't go into too many details), I started looking for a nice online bookclub again. I never really found one I was happy with, until I started this blog and came across This Book Makes Me Cook. I have found my nirvana - books and food in one, and I joined as quickly as I could press Enter.

The book we read for April was Julie/Julia, the one from the food blog (No, that's no typing error. I am about 2 months late with this post) Baby Brother rented me the DVD during our recent trip to South Africa, and I loved it, so when it turned up as one of the choices for this month's book, I voted for it, bought it, and started reading with joy. My joy slowly dimished over the next few days as I progressed, until I couldn't wait for the book to finish. And not in a good way.

What?! Somebody not loving Julie/Julia?! Yes, I know. I'm weird that way. Some books everybody seems to drool over, I sometimes just can't see the point of. Like The Lovely Bones, The God of Small Things, and Angela's Ashes. But I think you have to give me Julie/Julia. Let me explain.

First of all I need to get the dirty kitchen off my chest. All through the book Julie talks about her dirty house. She describes dustiness, stickiness, and cat hair everywhere. Including the kitchen counters. In fact, at one stage it's so bad that she discovers maggots breeding in the dish tray. Now, I don't want to give the impression that I am a clean freak, because my mother will assure you that I'm definitely not. However, even I have never let my house go to the point of maggots. Reading all this didn't make me want to cook as much as it made me want to get up and scrub the kitchen counters with hospital grade disinfectant. Yuck!

I was also very disappointed not to read more about Julia Child herself. After watching the DVD, which has quite a lot of her, I looked forward to getting to know more about this extraordinary woman. No joy. The only reference is a few short letters throughout the chapters, with the only purpose of leaving you wanting more. I'll have to ask my good friend Google.

The book ends with a chapter on how Julia Child changed Julie Powell's life. She talks about the absolute joy of making some sauce, and the sense of accomplishment she felt mastering all the recipes. I was really surprised when I read this, because battling through the chapters I didn't come across joy, or really much sense of accomplishment. Lots of swearing, lots of throwing things, Julie trying to console cheating girlfriends, a husband walking out. Joy? Not so much. I read about one huge struggle, and honestly, I was glad when it was over.

And now for the question you've all been dying to ask. After reading about eggs poached in red wine and baked cucumbers, how on earth did I end up making Martha Stewart cookies? Well, this is the recipe that Julie uses to cheat on her husband. Seriously. In her own words: "I can't imagine anyone - a few of the more repressive Islamic societies aside - who would consider baking an act of adultery. Still, for Eric, knowing what he knew of my proclivities, watching me roll out thin layers of cornmeal dough, sprinkle them with chopped pecans, cinnamon, and melted butter, then lay another layer of dough on top, and repeat over and over with infinite patience, must have been a little bit like noticing I'd gotten a bikini wax and a tight red dress before leaving for some business convention in Dallas." But please don't blame the cookies. From the beginning of the book I wondered which dish to make, but when I read this description (the cookies, not the bit about the waxing), I thought it my duty to change these cookies from "stalker food" to the fabulous little things they really are. I made them for mother's day (my first!), and they were fabulous indeed. Remarks included "Amazing!" and "Delicious delicious!" and "Why didn't you make more?".

I liked them too. The cornmeal in the cookie was really, really good. It remains slightly chewy, which is a great partner to the crunchy nuts. I substituted mixed spice for the cinnamon in the recipe, and will do so again. Not that I will ever contradict Martha Stewart in anything. She is after all the queen of the cookie recipe. But I am looking forward to getting to know Julia Child better.

Cornmeal and Spicy Pecan Cookies
Makes about 2 1/2 dozen

1/2 cup whole pecans
110g butter
1 cup sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon or mixed spice
2 tablespoons packed dark-brown sugar
1 large egg white, lightly beaten with 1 tablespoon water

Toast the pecan halves in a skillet until warm and fragrant. Be careful not to burn them
In the bowl of electric mixer, cream butter and sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, 2 to 4 minutes. Add egg and vanilla, and mix until combined.

In medium bowl, whisk together flour, cornmeal, baking powder and salt. On low speed, add flour mixture to butter mixture. Mix until combined, about 30 seconds.

Transfer dough to clean work surface, and divide into 4 equal portions. Place 1 portion between two 30 cm square pieces of parchment. Roll out dough to a 10 by 20 cm rectangle. Repeat with remaining 3 portions of dough. (I found the dough very difficult to role out, and ended up just patting it into shape, which worked perfectly) Transfer to baking sheets; chill at least 10 minutes.

In food processor bowl, process pecans, cinnamon and brown sugar until nuts have been finely chopped, 12 to 15 seconds. Transfer mixture to a bowl.

Remove top pieces of parchment from dough. Brush one lightly with egg white; sprinkle 1/3 cup pecan mixture over top. Brush second rectangle lightly with egg wash. Invert second rectangle over first; remove parchment on top. Repeat layering process, leaving top rectangle uncoated. Trim the stack so you have straight edges. Wrap and chill overnight, or at least for a few hours.

Preheat oven to 180°C. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment. Cut brick into 1/2cm slices; place slices on baking sheets, with some space for spreading. Bake biscuits until light golden, 12 to 15 minutes. Transfer to wire rack to cool. Bake or freeze remaining dough. Store in an airtight container up to 2 weeks.