This will be quick today (baking takes a lot out of me), but I wanted to drop in and say hi to you anonymous readers that I recently discovered are invisibly perusing this seemingly barren space. (Speak up, why don't you.) This is especially for the few in particular who say I don't update enough - you know who you are. Welcome and thanks for reading! Pour yourself a cup of coffee and here's some cake.
This isn't any ordinary cake, mind you. I've come to the conclusion that it's a big fudgey brownie disguised as a cake. Don't be fooled. It's from a new book that my new Seattle friend, Molly Wizenberg, wrote. She served several of these little rounds of heaven at her wedding a few years back. For me, the book was more of an indulgence than the cake - I must say.
I have a signed copy of it coming from Seattle by way of another Seattle friend, Mi Ae, who will be promoting her cookbook. On my way to a Lynne Rossetto Kasper event, I realized daylight savings time threw me off an hour, and as I drove by Borders - I just couldn't help it. Mi Ae's visit wouldn't come soon enough. I found the last copy they had, managed to scrounge up the exact change for the thing, and sat in the parking lot for an hour reading until Ms. Kasper's event started.
And now that exact book sits half-way across the world the apartment kitchen in 'Spictytown' (translated, of course) - a charming city in Bavaria. It is the college-town of my German sister, Tanja, who baked this cake with me for the first time (for our Aunt RoseAnne's birthday) while she was visiting with her brother over my spring break.
Since we had such a good time baking it (and eating it) we decided we'd let the book connect us through our kitchens. Tanja would take my copy and when I get mine in a few weeks, we will start cooking for ourselves and friends out of it together, sharing our triumphs and failures. I knew there was a reason I had to get my hands on this book so early. Waiting until April would have made this plan impossible.
Although I imagine her European ingredients are far superior to their American counterparts, which I will be forced to use, I anticipate good stories being shared in our future via these recipes. Although the simultaneous occurrence of driving away from the airport after dropping them off and Sarah McLachlan's Angel playing on the radio made my eyes welled with tears (usually, I am not a crier), it was a little less painful saying goodbye, knowing that we have future experiences together in the book, our kitchens, and our hearts.
Now it's time to put away the Kleenexes and pull out our aprons. You may know that baked goods are not commonplace around here, and even more foreign are recipes for them. But given the celebration of new readers and the new sentiment attached to it, I'll give it a shot. If you forgot already, I don't actually have the book with me, so I don't have the recipe. Nor did I have it this morning when I baked it a second time. But that's suffice to say how easy it is. 5 ingredients, FIVE.
(This is from memory, be patient. And send me the remnants if it's a flop.)
Molly's Wedding Cake and Our 'Hello, Goodbye' Cake
7 ounces 60% bittersweet chocolate - I used Ghirardhelli chips
7 ounces butter ( 1 3/4 sticks)
1 cup sugar
1 Tbs flour (you read corrently, 1 Tbs)
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cube the butter and combine it with the chips (or roughly chopped bar) and place on top of a double boiler. (I don't have a double boiler so I heat up an inch of water in a saucepan and place a heat-proof bowl over it. Place the butter and chocolate in there.) Stir until completely melted. Add the cup of sugar and thoroughly combine. Take the chocolate mixture off of the heat and let cool for a few minutes, until you know the eggs won't curdle once you crack them in. Whisk in the eggs, one at a time, followed by the 1 Tbs of flour.
Line an 8-inch round cake pan with parchment paper and butter the sides, as well as the paper. Pour in the batter. Bake for 25 minutes. Since there are so many eggs, 25 minutes might give you a jiggly center. That's ok, just work with your oven and adjust the time as needed. When you take it out it should be mostly set, but it's fine if there is some movement. The book, of course, has a detailed description about when you know it is done or isn't done - but I forget.
Let the cake hang out in the pan on a cooling rack for about 15 minutes. To get the cake out of the pan, right-side-up, there are two flippings involved. First put a plate over the top of the pan and flip it. Remove the pan from the cake. And then put another plate (or the serving platter) over the 'top' (which really is the 'bottom') and flip again.