October 17, 2015 § 1 Comment
As I write, England need just 33 to win in the surprisingly exciting test match against Pakistan..
This reminds me that earlier this year I fulfilled a longstanding ambition to take a along a cake to the BBC cricket commentary team in the Test Match Special studio. The occasion was a glorious Saturday at Cardiff during the opening Ashes test match 2015 (a hotly contested series whereby England take on Australia in case you’re not a cricket aficionado).
England’s batsman of the moment was Yorkshire’s finest, Joe Root, and it was his name that gave me inspiration for what to put in the cake and how to decorate it. Everyone knows that carrots make a great teatime cake so why not run with the idea and throw parsnips and swede into the mix as well? That’s exactly what I did. The only other change I made to my failsafe carrot cake recipe was to substitute coarsely ground hazelnuts for the chopped walnuts as I thought this would make a better flavour match with the nutty notes of parsnip and swede. And so the root cake was born.
The cake recipe, like the England team, was a winner, whether in its original carrot and walnut form or with the root vegetable and hazelnut variatiotion – straightforward to make and bake, travels well, reliably moist and delicious and with a cream cheese frosting that holds its shape and won’t let you down when the heat is on…
I was delighted that my cake made it onto both the Test Match Special Facebook page and Twitter feed, was tweeted by former leading Australian bowler turned commentator Glenn McGrath and was referred to by Jonathan “Aggers” Agnew in an interview for Radio Times. A tiny bit of fame!
Root cake with cream cheese frosting
This quantity makes a triple layer 20cm round cake. Increase the cake batter quantities by 20% and the frosting quantities by 50% to make a triple layer heart-shaped cake in a tin measuring 22cm lengthwise (from low point between lobes to tip) by 23cm across widest part.
The 20cm triple layer round cake cuts into 12 slices.
300g soft light brown sugar
300ml/265g rapeseed oil
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
300g plain flour
1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground ginger
½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
½ teaspoon salt
100g each finely grated carrots, parsnips and swede
100g coarsely ground hazelnuts
For the frosting
300g icing sugar, sifted
50g unsalted butter, at room temperature
125g cream cheese, cold
A selection of root vegetables modelled from marzipan and painted with food colouring or, more simply, a handful of toasted hazelnut halves and a sprinkling of ground cinnamon
Prepare three 20cm cake tins by greasing and lining the bases with silicone baking paper.
Preheat the oven to 170 degrees C fan.
Put the sugar, eggs, vanilla extract and oil in a stand mixer fitted with K beater attachment and beat until the ingredients are well incorporated. Mix together the flour with the raising agents and spices and slowly add this to the bowl continuing to beat until well mixed.
Stir in the grated root vegetables and ground hazelnuts and mix until evenly dispersed.
Pour the mixture into the three prepared cake tins (weigh to ensure evenly distributed) and level the surface with a palette knife. Bake in the preheated oven for 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown and cooked through (test by pressing quickly and lightly with a clean forefinger – the sponge should bounce back when cooked). Leave the cakes to cool in the tins for a few minutes before turning out onto a wire rack to cool fully. Peel off the baking paper.
Make the frosting while the cakes cool. Beat together at slow speed the icing sugar and the butter in a stand mixer fitted with a K beater attachment. Add the cream cheese all in one go and beat until fully incorporated. Turn up the speed to medium-high and continue beating for about 5 minutes until the frosting becomes thick and fluffy.
When the layers are fully cold, you can assemble the cake. Put one layer on a stand and spread about one third of the frosting over it. Place the second layer on top and spread over it the next third of the frosting. Top with the last cake and swirl the remaining frosting decoratively and smoothly over the top. Decorate with marzipan models or halved nuts and a sprinkling of cinnamon according to your preference.
January 8, 2011 § Leave a comment
After a teeny bit of excess over Christmas, it seems it’s the time for reinvention and self improvement which in food terms seems to mean restraint and raw vegetables. Well I’m going to buck the trend and write about a cake I made in December for a friend’s special birthday. This was a Zuger Kirschtorte, a traditional almond and cherry liqueur flavoured cake from the canton of Zug in central Switzerland.
Click here to view a short movie featuring the whole process. The kitchen scenes were shot by my son George who provides that authentic edgy camera wobble.
The cake idea came from Rose Levy Beranbaum’s amazing book “The Cake Bible” and she calls it “A Taste of Heaven”, a light as air heart-shaped confection of crisp almond meringue discs sandwiching a cherry liqueur-sprinkled sponge, frosted with cherry-flavoured buttercream and finished with toasted almonds.
I discovered The Cake Bible a decade or so ago on the shelves of the Mayfair library on South Audley Street in London round the corner from where I worked at GEC’s head office on Stanhope Gate. When work pressures became too much I would occasionally seek sanctuary here at lunchtimes, leafing through the pages of Rose Levy Beranbaum’s book and marvelling at her descriptions of pistachio marzipan, white spice pound cake, orange fruit mousseline and the like.
It turns out that “A Taste of Heaven” is Ms Beranbaum’s version of the classic Swiss cake, a Zuger Kirschtorte. I find myself drawn to all things Swiss so it was funny I’d picked this cake not knowing its Swiss origins at the time.
The different components of the cake are two heart-shaped Dacquoise (nut meringue) discs; 1 Génoise Classique (whisked sponge) heart-shaped cake; syrup flavoured with kirsch for moistening the Génoise; kirsch flavoured buttercream; and finally a handful or so of toasted flaked almonds.
The crisp Dacquoise discs were spread with a thin layer of buttercream and used to sandwich the kirsch-syrup moistened Génoise. The top and sides of the cake were frosted with the remaining buttercream and the flaked toasted almonds were gently pressed around the sides of the cake.
I suggest just two changes to Ms Beranbaum’s recipe:
1) To halve the quantity of buttercream from the full heart attack-inducing 1 pound 9.25 ounces to a more modest 12.5 ounces.
2) If, like me, you like to avoid artificial food colouring, you can achieve a pink buttercream by beating into the mix 4-6 tablespoons of puréed cherry compôte instead of a few drops of red food colouring. This gives a gorgeous ever so slightly sour true cherry flavour to the buttercream.
I went ever so slightly over the top when I added the cherry purée to my buttercream and ended up with an in-your-face pink frosting which, I assure you, despite its garish looks, is 100% natural.
I give the recipe for the Génoise Classique below as this is arguably the most useful and versatile component of the cake. Ms Beranbaum’s special twists to the classic French recipe are to substitute browned butter (beurre noisette) for the usual plain melted butter and to use half cornflour half cake flour rather than just cake flour. If I were to attempt to reproduce here the recipes for all the cake components, plus all the advice and troubleshooting tips in the Cake Bible I’d be writing this post for days. If you are at all serious about baking I’d urge you to buy or borrow a copy.
I started by making the Dacquoise (nut meringue) discs. There was nowhere near enough mixture to pipe the heart shaped discs so instead I piped a border a few millimetres inside the template I’d drawn (to allow for a slight spreading of the mixture as it bakes) and spooned the meringue mixture into the centre and gently spread it to fill the outline using a small crank-handled palette knife.
This is how the cooked Dacquoise disc looked:
The next step was to make the Génoise Classique whisked egg sponge. Ms Beranbaum’s special twist is to fold in not ordinary melted butter but browned clarified butter. This imparts a subtle nutty depth of flavour to the finished cake. Here’s my browned butter and the dregs left behind to show the depth of toasting achieved without going so far as to burn the butter:
Ms Beranbaum’s other handy tips when making Génoise are to use a mixture of cornflour and cake flour and is to whisk a spoonful or so of the beaten egg mix into the melted butter before adding the butter to the main bowl. This certainly helps incorporation of the butter. Whenever I’ve made Génoise before I’ve always encountered the problem of the melted butter sinking to the bottom of the bowl which didn’t happen this time.
Here’s the bowl of butter and egg mix ready for incorporation, along with the flours, into the big bowl of super-foamy whisked egg:
The cake batter was carefully spooned into the prepared heart-shaped cake tin, base lined with a double thickness of baking paper. This is how the finished cake looked:
It wasn’t quite as deep as I was expecting so I decided not to attempt trimming it before drizzling with the kirsch-flavoured syrup.
The next major cake component was the cherry buttercream. Here are some of the raw ingredients – note the authentic Alpine butter for this Alpine cake (though my butter was in fact German rather than Swiss).
The Bonne Maman cherry compôte was a real find – intense sour cherry flavour, gorgeous colour and not too sweet. Definitely a new store-cupboard standby for whipping up a sauce for duck or adding to a pudding.
The buttercream is no mere amalgamation of icing sugar and butter. Looking at the recipe it’s immediately apparent that there is quite a low ratio of sugar to butter which means that the end result is silkily textured yet not too sweet. I began by beating a hot sugar syrup into my egg yolks, a slightly tense step without a sugar thermometer relying on the cold water test, speed and a bit of luck. The resulting mix if it all turns out right is a pale, foamy mass. The picture shows a 6 egg yolk quantity which turned out to be way too much for one cake.
The next step involves combining the egg yolk foam with the softened butter:
And the final step was to beat in the kirsch and sieved cherry compôte to flavour the buttercream and tint it a 100% natural totally girly pink:
A word of warning – do stick to Ms Beranbaum’s guidelines when it comes to beating in extras to buttercream: I went above her recommended ratios when beating in the water-based cherry compôte to the fat-based buttercream. Although it was fine at first, I set the bowl aside in a cool room to use later and, horror of horrors, when I attempted to beat the mixture to soften it it split! I managed to re-emulsify it by warming the bowl very gently, adding a little more sifted icing sugar and beating like crazy.
The end result was a beautifully flavoured, unusual cake, a welcome change from the current surfeit of chocolate (and would be a great choice for a Valentine’s Day treat too).
Recipe for Génoise Classique
From Rose Levy Beranbaum’s “The Cake Bible”. She says “Since this recipe first appeared in print in 1981, I have received more calls about it from readers than for any other recipe. Many say that for the first time in their lives they have succeeded in making the perfect génoise”. Praise indeed.
For a 9 inch by 2 inch round or heart shaped cake tin or 8 inch by 2 inch square cake tin, greased, bottom lined with parchment, and then greased again and floured.
37g clarified beurre noisette*
4 g vanilla extract
4 whole large eggs, 200g weighed without shells
50g sifted cake flour (not self raising)
*In a heavy saucepan melt 4 tablespoons butter over medium heat, partially covered to prevent splattering. When the butter looks clear, cook uncovered, watching carefully until the solids drop and begin to brown. Pour immediately through a fine strainer or a strainer lined with cheesecloth.
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Warm the beurre noisette until almost hot. Add the vanilla and keep warm.
In a large mixing bowl set over a pan of simmering water heat the eggs and sugar until just lukewarm, stirring constantly to prevent curdling.
Using the whisk beater, beat the mixture on high speed for 5 minutes or until triple in volume.
While the eggs are beating, sift together the flour and cornflour.
Remove 1 scant cup of the egg mixture and thoroughly whisk it into the beurre noisette.
Sift half the flour mixture over the remaining egg mixture and fold it in gently but rapidly with a large balloon whisk, slotted skimmer, or rubber spatula until almost all the flour has disappeared. Repeat with the remaining flour mixture until the flour has disappeared completely. Fold in the butter mixture until just incorporated.
Pour immediately into the prepared tin (it will be about 2/3 full) and bake 25-35 minutes, or until the cake is golden brown and starts to shrink slightly from the sides of the pan. (No need for a cake tester. Once the sides shrink the cake is done.) Avoid opening the oven door before the minimum time or the cake could fall. Test toward the end of baking by opening the door slightly and, if at a quick glance it does not appear done, close door back at once and check again in 5 minutes.
Loosen the sides of the cake with a small metal spatula and turn out at once onto a lightly greased rack.
Many Happy Returns Vivienne and here’s to the next decade!