January 2017: Flourless Chocolate Cake
There are some recipes that I’ve used a dozen times but can never remember how I found them. What was the original occasion that lead me to this massive delight of a confection? I’ve made this cake for birthdays, for fundraisers, for dinner parties, for the hell of it. There’s something divine about a giant slab of chocolate, perfectly sweet, with the added bonus that gluten free folks can indulge in it as well. When Emily and I invited friends over to ring in the new year, I knew this was the cake I wanted to make.
Usually, whenever I’ve made this cake, it’s been a breeze. Six ingredients, one of which is water. It’s basically fool proof. Because it’s such a wet cake, it doesn’t bake all the way through, and so I always feel a little bit nervous taking it from the oven and popping it in the fridge, even though the original recipe promises that this is exactly how it should go. And, served straight from the fridge, it’s always been solid, beautiful, delicious. The first time I baked it I used a ten inch pan, that I’ve never been able to find again (there’s a good chance the pan belonged to my roommate at the time), and that pan always helped the cake pop out in a slick disc of velvety chocolate, looking like a million bucks. But I’ve made this cake since then, and with my own cake pans, and so I wasn’t really sure what was going on when I took it out of the oven to find that it had baked a little lopsided. One side had puffed up like a swollen lip, while the other was somewhat pockmarked. I assured myself that it wouldn’t matter, as the whole point of the cake is to flip it upside down on a gorgeous platter and scatter some raspberries around it.
So when I took it from the fridge yesterday before guests arrived, ran hot water over the backside of the pan for a few seconds, and flipped it onto the new platter I’d gotten for Christmas, I thought it would work like it always did. Flip, press, voila! I pulled the pan away and revealed a craggy mess, with one side of the cake still stubbornly in the pan.
“Goddammit!” I yelled.
Emily was doing dishes, acting the part of the perfect companion while I spun around our apartment like a top of anxiety, listing the things that needed to be done. She ignored my expletive, so I decided to try again.
“The cake!” I yelled. “It didn’t work! Christ!”
“It’s fine,” she said. She said this without even turning around, or looking at the cake, or witnessing what a not-fine disaster it was. I deftly brought the pan over to the counter, grabbed a knife, ran it around the stubborn edge, then went to attach it to the cake.
“It’s awful,” I shouted. “This isn’t what I wanted. I’m so mad!”
“I’m sure it’ll taste fine,” Emily, ever practical, assured me. I was furious that she hadn’t even turned around.
“I am allowed to be mad!”
She turned off the faucet and looked at me. “You are,” she said, “but the cake will be fine.”
The cake was not a flawless circle of chocolate but now a slightly lopsided rough moon. I pressed it together as best I could, then lined the crack with raspberries.
One of my favorite mantras is to take the action and let go of the results, but I have such an incredibly hard time letting go of the results. I want to control the results, to predict the results, to bask in the results. I never want ordinary or flawed; I only want reward and treasure. The pressure of those expectations on myself and my actions have been particularly bad. I watched on social media as the new year approached, and it seemed like everyone was setting intentions and highlighting their accomplishments of the previous year. I had the least number of bylines to my name as I’ve had in ages, and felt no inspiration to set any intentions. Trying to remedy this, I spent one of my days off last week doing a yoga video, followed by going to the gym where I watched an Oprah empowerment video while on the treadmill, panting and not understanding the treadmill (every time I come very close to slipping and getting dragged down). Instead of feeling inspired, I felt exhausted. This isn’t what I wanted. Maybe 2016 was a good cake with a bad crack down the middle. Maybe there’s not even a metaphor or a lesson in the cake.
Still: take the action. Last night our friends came over and filled our home with light and laughter, food and love. One friend made latkes. Another bought homemade gifts. There were engagements and babies to celebrate, new jobs and new adventures, where one or two years ago there were not yet here. The results are not always tangible, not always present, when I want them to be. The action can be skipping the gym and taking a goddman nap. It’s still a good life. It’s still a good cake.
Here’s to 2017, and more action with less pressure, more cake and less perfection. Happy new year <3
xoxo,
c
Flourless Chocolate Cake
from allrecipes.com
1/2 c. water
1/4 tp. salt (skip if using salted butter, as I do)
3/4 c. sugar
18 oz. bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1 c. butter, room temp
6 eggs
1. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Grease one 10 inch cake pan and set aside. (You can also line the bottom with parchment paper, which definitely will help it come out in one piece.)
2. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the water, salt and sugar until dissolved. Set aside.
3. In a double boiler, melt the chocolate. Scrape melted chocolate into mixing bowl. (This is one of those recipes where a stand mixer is a dream, but an electric mixer will also do the trick. Use a big bowl, as the batter begins to add up as you add everything in.)
4. While mixing the chocolate, add the butter, one piece at a time. Let each piece incorporate fully. When all the butter is added, pour in the warm water/sugar mixture.
5. With the mixer on, add the eggs, one at a time. You can let one minute pass between each addition so that each egg is fully mixed in. (It’s easy to see the yolk disappear and think that they’re mixed in, but beware - this is a super eggy batter, so over-mixing is better than under-mixing).
6. Pour the batter into the greased pan.
7. Place the pan in a baking sheet, or another pan large enough to hold it. This is for the water bath, that will keep the cake from (hopefully) cracking. Slide the baking sheet and cake pan into the oven, then gently add water to the base of the baking sheet. It should come up 1/4 - 1/2 inch around the sides of the cake pan. Points for boiling the water before adding it to the water bath, but I’ve been lazy and not boiled it and it’s okay.
8. Bake for 45 minutes (or 50 minutes if you want the center to be a little bit more done). Center will still be wet when you take it out. Take the cake pan out (leave the water/baking sheet until cool enough to handle). Cool cake on rack, then refrigerate overnight.
9. To plate, run the bottom of the pan under hot water for 10 seconds before inverting on serving platter. Serve chilled, with whipped cream, berries, a dusting of powdered sugar, or by its delicious chocolately self.