Chocolate Fudge Layer Cake with Vanilla Buttercream and Bittersweet Chocolate Ganache . . .

Last week in my Bakery Merchandising class, my fellow students and I spent hours preparing for a sale in the culinary school's retail bakery. One of my duties included piping huge swirls of fluffy vanilla buttercream onto dozens of yellow cupcakes, chilling them until firm, then suspending them upside down, one by one, and dipping them into a deep bowl of warm chocolate ganache.

At first my task progressed smoothly, but then the big white swirls started plopping off as I lifted the cold cupcakes out of the chocolate. Cursing under my breath with each failed attempt, I nervously fished out big globs of buttercream--once, twice, three times. Speed was of the essence that day and, not wanting to gum up the works, I took immediate steps to remedy the problem. Soldiering on, I carefully refrosted some of the cupcakes, chilled them longer, rewarmed the ganache, and crossed my fingers.

Meanwhile, directly across from me a much younger student, who told me she'd been working in a bakery since high school, was deftly enrobing iced layer cakes in ganache. I kept glancing over as she ladled the fluid chocolate atop each cake, letting it move languidly down the sides before picking up a small offset spatula to cover any bare spots. Her sense of calm bordered on the meditative, and her technique produced beautiful results.

It made me want to do the same thing at home. Damn the cupcakes, I said to myself, full speed ahead with a big round layer cake in my own kitchen. 

Thus was the inspiration for today's cake. (A cake that would, I believe, make a sensational Valentine's Day dessert!)

About this recipe . . . 

From the book Welcome to Junior's! Remembering Brooklyn with Recipes and Memories from its Favorite Restaurant, this fudge cake is moist and densely textured. The recipe actually produces three hefty layers, but they were each so tall and obviously substantive, I decided to save and freeze the third one. If I'd actually used all three layers the iced and coated cake would probably have been 10" tall. (If you need a truly lofty layer cake, go ahead and use all three.) The vanilla buttercream recipe is also adapted from Junior's. The decision to apply a luxurious dark-chocolate ganache over the whole thing was, as you know, quite my own.

I bought this book last April in Junior's Restaurant (the one in Times Square) during a trip to NYC, and I have to admit I'm pretty fond of it (the book, yes, and also the restaurant!). My family and I visited Junior's twice while we were there, one night just for dessert (that famous cheesecake, of course), and again on our last morning in town before heading to the airport. We'd finished breakfast and were getting up to leave when it hit me that I could not exit Manhattan without my own copy, bright stacks of which were displayed near the entrance. Along with solid recipes, this volume offers an honest and deeply affectionate homage to Brooklyn--as it was decades ago, and as it is now. It's full of historical tidbits that are pretty engrossing for anyone who's interested in the evolution of a classic, family-owned, American restaurant. I began reading it at the airport, while awaiting our flight, and hardly put it down until our plane landed back in Detroit. I used one of Junior's cute paper coasters as my bookmark.

Chocolate Fudge Layer Cake with Vanilla Buttercream 
and Bittersweet Chocolate Ganache
(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Yield: Makes one large, tall, 3-layer cake that, when iced and ganached, could probably serve 20 or more people.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter three round 9"x2" cake pans, place parchment paper circles in the bottom, and then butter the parchment (it's easiest to do this with a pastry brush, and do use unsalted butter). Place a rack in the middle of your oven.

Ingredients for the cake layers:

3 cups cake flour
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1 generous teaspoon of coarse kosher salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened to room temp.
1/2 cup vegetable shortening 
1 and 1/2 cups granulated sugar
3/4 cup light brown sugar, packed
7 large eggs, not cold
9 oz. bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled to lukewarm
1 Tbsp. vanilla extract
2 and 1/4 cups milk (I used 2 percent.)

Onto parchment, or into a medium size bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, salt, and baking soda.

In the large bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment on high speed, cream together the butter, shortening, granulated sugar, and brown sugar. Beat for several minutes, until the mixture turns light yellow. Scrape the bowl and beaters. Again on high speed, add in the eggs one at a time, beating for a couple of minutes after each addition. Stop and scrape the bowl and beaters.

Pour in all of the chocolate and vanilla, and continue mixing on high speed for up to 20 minutes. (Yes, I said 20 minutes--that's what the instructions indicate, and that's what I did. The batter is quite fluffy when you're done with this step.) Take the bowl off of the mixer now, and gently scrape again with your spatula.

Now, sift one quarter of the dry mixture over the batter and carefully stir (as opposed to just folding, which you will be inclined to do) it in. Then pour in one third of the milk, stirring to blend. Continue in this fashion, until you've incorporated all the flour and milk, stirring well after each addition.

Portion the batter equally into the three prepared pans, and smooth it out. Gently tap each pan on your work surface to help release air bubbles. Bake the pans side by side on the middle rack, but don't let them touch each other. (The cookbook suggests delaying the baking of one layer if you don't have an oven large enough to accomplish this, rather than baking one of the layers on an upper- or lower rack.)


Bake the layers for about 30 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center of each one comes out clean, and the sides of the cakes just begin to pull away from the sides of the pan. Cool the layers on racks for 30 minutes before inverting them onto racks (and removing any parchment still stuck to them) to finish cooling.

Ingredients for Vanilla Buttercream Frosting:

2 lbs. (8 cups) of confectioners' sugar, well sifted (I always use Domino's 10x for frosting. Much less lumpy than the cheaper stuff.)
1/2 tsp. salt
1 and 1/2 cups (3 sticks) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
1/2 cup margarine or high-ratio shortening, not cold (I did not use margarine, which the original recipe indicates. Instead, I used Sweetex, which is a "high-ratio" shortening typically used by cake decorators. Trans-fat free, it adds stability to frostings--ie., helps them hold up without softening in warm temps--and doesn't lend a greasy mouth-feel the way vegetable shortening can. It also helps make frosting easier to spread. You can buy it at cake decorating supply stores, but be forewarned that it's not cheap.)
2 Tbsp. light corn syrup
1 Tbsp. and 2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 scant tsp. almond extract
1/2 cup heavy cream, not too cold

Onto a parchment sheet, or into a large bowl, sift together the confectioners' sugar and the salt, being sure to break up out any stubborn sugar lumps. In the large bowl of your electric mixer, using the paddle attachment on high speed, cream together the butter and margarine/Sweetex; beat for about three minutes, until light yellow. Still on high speed, add in the corn syrup and vanilla. Stop and scrape the beaters and bowl. Now on low speed, add the sugar in two additions, beating well after each one. Pour in the cream and blend until the frosting seems of reasonable spreading consistency; if it seems too thick, add in more cream as needed, a teaspoon or so at a time. Keep the frosting tightly covered until you're ready to use it. If you won't be using it within a couple of hours, cover and refrigerate it. 

Ingredients for the Bittersweet Chocolate Ganache:

8-10 oz. good quality dark chocolate (I tend to use Ghirardelli if I don't want to spend a fortune. If I'm flush with cash, I'm more likely to use Callebaut, and more rarely Valrhona. Bittersweet ganache works well with this cake since it balances the sweetness of the buttercream frosting.)
5-6 oz. heavy cream (The amount can vary a little bit, depending upon how soft you want your ganache to be.)
2 tsp. soft unsalted butter

Chop the chocolate into small pieces and place it in a heatproof bowl.

In a small sauce pan, heat the cream slowly until it simmers. Pour it over the chocolate, add the butter, and do not stir. Let the mixture sit undisturbed for a couple of minutes. Stir until the chocolate is obviously completely melted; don't whisk, as you don't want to add bubbles. As the ganache begins to cool, you'll be able to get an idea of its texture. If it seems it will be too thick to ladle onto your cake, stir in a little bit more warm cream, adjusting as needed. If you won't be using the ganache right away, keep it well covered in the fridge. It can be warmed up in a double boiler, or gradually in the microwave if watched very closely. 


To assemble the cake:

Place your first layer of cake on a cardboard cake-circle so you can more easily lift and move it; this will be a big help when it comes time to add the ganache coating. Frost the top of the bottom layer.  Frost the top of the middle layer. Frost the top of the top layer and the sides of the cake as smoothly as you can, ideally with an offset spatula. It doesn't matter too much if some crumbs show through in the frosting at this point since the cake will be covered in chocolate, but any obvious lumps should be smoothed out to ensure a nice finish. 

Place the cake, still on its cardboard circle, over a cake rack that's been placed atop a rimmed baking sheet. 


When your ganache is at the right consistency (it should drip easily from a ladle, like a very pourable gravy), ladle it directly onto the top center of the cake, letting it spread out and drip down the sides. The excess ganache will drip off the bottom edges of the cake onto your baking sheet (that excess can be saved and used again, assuming it doesn't contain crumbs, etc.). Use a small, metal, offset spatula to smooth out, and dab delicately at, any bare spots on the top and sides of the cake; work fairly quickly since the ganache will start to set up as it cools. Let the ganache-covered cake sit on the cooling rack over the baking sheet until the ganache seems somewhat firm. Move the cake onto its serving plate, sliding a firm metal spatula beneath it to help lift it up off the cooling rack. Before serving, add on any decorations you prefer (whipped cream swirls, piped frosting, chocolate-dipped strawberries, whatever you like).

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Chocolate Mousse Dream Cake . . . and One Boy's Birthday

He didn't request a raucous party with two dozen friends. Nor did he claim that the day would be incomplete without a confetti-cannon wielding clown. No, aside from a few special gifts, and a family dinner at a Thai restaurant, my son Nathan had just one additional requirement in order to make it a perfect 14th birthday. That, my friends, was the request for this dessert--a three-layer, mousse-filled, chocolate covered dream of a layer cake.

Last summer, upon turning 13, Nathan requested a towering ice cream cake; I made that, and he loved it. The year before, he wanted me to make a cake that looked like a furry monkey's face, and I complied; it was pretty cute, and he adored it. This year, though, the cake he asked for seemed to reflect his maturing taste, and he chose carefully. As his mom, it was a little poignant for me to note this because it's just another indication that he's growing up. He is, after all, my youngest. It's also, though, a bit thrilling to watch his progress. (I often say to my sons, "I know you're not a baby, but you'll always be my baby." Then they smile and roll their eyes.)

Happily, Nathan is still mostly a kid. He pilots his skateboard like a jockey on a thoroughbred, draws psychedelic graffiti in a sketchbook whenever the inspiration hits, and every now and then he thrusts his arm toward me, fist tightly closed, and boyishly commands, "Pound it, Mom!"  Yep. He's Nathan, he's 14, and he's a great kid.

About this recipe . . .

This multi-step formula hails from a "Cooking with Paula Deen" special-issue magazine that I received as a gift a couple of years ago, called Paula Deen's Chocolate Celebration. It really is a fabulous concoction--from the soft moist cake, to the fluffy mousse filling, to the ganache-like icing. The crumbly coating you see on the outside is made from a combo of  milk- and dark chocolate that's been grated (use your favorite premium chocolate for this part--don't skimp) and curled.

Though not at all difficult to make, this dessert does demand some planning, so be sure to organize your day accordingly. An impressive and extremely delicious cake for a special occasion, this one is well worth the labor. I adhered pretty closely to the original recipe(s), but did some rewording here and there. Oh, and the original recipe calls for splitting the layers, so you have six thin layers in all, but I didn't think that was necessary, and just used three unsplit layers for mine.

Chocolate Mousse Cake

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Because the fluffy mousse needs to chill for about four hours before it can be used, feel free to prepare it first, before you bake the cake.

To make the cake:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease three 9" round cake pans. Line the bottom of each pan with parchment cut to fit. Grease the parchment, then flour the bottom and sides of each pan, tapping out the excess flour.

2 cups All-Purpose flour (I used unbleached)
2 cups granulated sugar
3/4 cup cocoa powder (I used natural cocoa)
1 and 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 and 1/2 tsp. baking soda
3/4 tsp. salt
1 cup milk (I used 2 percent)
1 cup strong brewed coffee
3/4 cup vegetable oil (I used canola)
2 eggs, large

In the large bowl of your mixer, combine the flour, sugar, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. All at once, add in the milk, coffee, oil, and eggs. Beat this mixture at medium speed just until smooth. The batter will be very thin. Pour it evenly into the three prepared pans. Bake the cakes for about 20 to 25 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the cake springs back when very lightly touched. Cool the cakes in their pans, on racks, for 10 to 15 minutes. Carefully invert the cakes to remove them from their pans, then invert them again so they can finish cooling on racks right side up.

To make the mousse:

Makes approximately 4 and 1/2 cups (which is a lot--you'll have some leftover!)

1 envelope unflavored gelatin
3 Tbsp. cold water
1/4 cup boiling water
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (use natural, or Dutch process, or a combo; I did the latter)
3 cups heavy cream

In a little bowl, soften the gelatin in the cold water, letting it stand undisturbed for two minutes. Add in the boiling water, and stir it slowly until the gelatin completely dissolves and no lumps are apparent. Set this aside.

In another small bowl, combine the sugar and the cocoa well, with a fork or whisk.
In a medium size mixer bowl, on medium speed, beat the heavy cream until it's quite foamy. Into this, gradually pour the sugar mixture and beat until it holds stiff peaks.

Then, stir in the dissolved gelatin by hand, folding it in evenly (if you don't distribute the gelatin evenly through careful stirring and folding, the mousse will be thicker and firmer in some spots, and too soft in others). Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and chill it in the fridge for at least four hours.

To make the chocolate icing:

Makes approximately 3 cups (I had about 1/2 a cup of this leftover)


1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup heavy cream
5 (1 oz. each) squares unsweetened chocolate
1/2 cup and 2 Tbsp. unsalted butter (doesn't have to be softened)
1 cup confectioner's sugar

Combine the granulated sugar and the cream in a medium size heavy-bottomed saucepan. Carefully bring it to a boil over medium-high heat, then keep it on a low simmer for 6 minutes. Stir it often and watch it closely so it doesn't come to a full boil again. Taking the pan off the heat, add in the butter and chocolate, stirring until it's all completely melted and the mixture is perfectly smooth; let it cool in the pan for 10 minutes. Using a whisk, incorporate all of the confectioner's sugar. Let the icing cool until it reaches a spreadable consistency.

To prepare the grated chocolate, and chocolate curls, for the outside of the cake:

You'll want to have at least 3/4 of a cup of grated chocolate available to cover the cake. If you can find chocolate that comes in big chunks, that is the easiest form in which to hold it for grating. I use Callebaut, a very good brand, which can be purchased in pieces by the pound. I use a combo of dark bittersweet chocolate and milk chocolate, which works well because the milk chocolate is softer and sweeter, while the dark chocolate is a bit drier and moderates the sweetness. Have the grated chocolate in a bowl close at hand before you are ready to coat the sides of the cake. Place a baking sheet with shallow sides on your work surface right near the bowl.

Using a vegetable peeler, peel some larger curls from the chocolate chunks and set them aside on a plate (or put them in the fridge if they're quite soft; they're always extremely fragile and often break when touched). It seems easier to make nice curls from milk chocolate since it tends to be softer and more flexible.


To assemble the cake:

Using a cardboard cake-round (if at all possible, or something that can function in the same capacity), place the first cake layer on it. Using an offset spatula, ice the top of the layer thickly with the chilled mouse. Place the second layer atop this, and cover it as well with a thick layer of the mousse. Place the third and final cake layer on top. If at this point the mousse seems very soft, put the whole cake into the fridge for about half an hour, or into the freezer for 15 minutes.

Using an offset spatula, spread the chocolate icing on the top and sides of the cake. It should be spread on fairly evenly, but it's not critical that you try to make it incredibly smooth, since it will be covered with grated chocolate, and you can gently pat down any uneven areas. While the icing is still quite soft, pick up the iced cake from beneath the cake-board (slide a thin metal spatula beneath it to help you lift it onto your hand). Holding the cake carefully on your non-dominant hand, sprinkle the sides of the cake with the grated chocolate, patting it on gently. Do this while holding the cake above the baking sheet so it can catch the falling chocolate crumbs and you can scoop them up again. Turn the cake as needed until the whole thing is completely covered. Carefully slide/sprinkle the chocolate curls onto the top of the cake. Place your cake on its serving dish. Keep the cake in the refrigerator until shortly before you'll cut it. Because the filling and the icing are rich with dairy products, you should store any leftover cake in the fridge as well.

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Espresso Chocolate-Chip Pound Cake with Ganache Glaze . . .

I've been wallowing lately, but not in anything bad. Not in mud, self pity, or anything unpleasant like that. Just in some really luscious cookbooks. Have you ever seen this one? It's not new, or even newish, but that doesn't diminish its appeal one bit.

Baking by Flavor, written by Lisa Yockelson, could keep you busy for a long time. Tossed onto a deserted tropical island--one with a fully equipped kitchen--you'd be content to work from this book right up until you were rescued a few months later. (Oh, and when you arrive on the island, I highly recommend you turn first to the coconut based recipes. Nothing like using local produce, right?)

The book is organized by primary flavors, rather than by particular food type. Personally,  I find this approach enormously practical. This is almost always how I first embark upon  the search for a good recipe. My quest begins with the desire to feature a particular flavor, and not necessarily the yen to produce a cake versus a pie versus a cookie versus a you-name-it. Is it like that for you too?

About this cake . . .
This velvety pound cake is like a well orchestrated composition. It's flavors are deep, rich, and expressive.  My husband, coffee maniac that he is, is quite enamored. My younger son--the chocolate fan extraordinaire--also gave it high marks, and augmented his slice with a scoop of homemade chocolate-almond  ice cream (that boy knows how to enjoy a dessert!).

While baking this last week, I stuck pretty closely to the original formula with a few very small alterations. The most obvious adjustment entailed cloaking the baked cake in a creamy ganache instead of brushing it with a coffee and liqueur syrup.  (The ganache recipe isn't from the book. It's something for which you hardly need a recipe, and it's a pretty standard formula, anywhere you look.)

This cake can accommodate a massive crowd and, rich as it is, thinner slices are usually the way to go. Don't forget to serve it along with a big pot of java . . . but you might want to make that decaf! (And don't panic, all those little coffee beans in the photos are just there for effect; I'm not suggesting you sprinkle them on the cake!)


Espresso Chocolate Chip Pound Cake . . . with Ganache Glaze

(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Grease a tube pan, or a 9" to 10" springform pan fitted with the tube insert, with vegetable shortening. Line the bottom of the pan with parchment paper cut to fit. Grease the paper. Dust the inside of the pan with flour and tap out the excess.

2 tsp. instant espresso powder
2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. hot water
2 and 3/4 cups unsifted All-Purpose flour, unbleached
1/4 cup unsifted cake flour
1/3 cup plus 1 Tbsp. Dutch processed cocoa
1/8 tsp. baking powder
1/8 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
2 cups dark chocolate chips, coarsely chopped
1/2 lb. unsalted butter, softened (2 sticks)
2 cups granulated sugar
3/4 cup firmly packed light brown sugar, with all lumps broken up
5 eggs, large
1 cup sour cream, thick style
2 Tbsp. heavy cream

For the ganache: 
1 and 1/2 cups heavy cream
1 and 1/2 cups chopped dark chocolate

To make the cake:
Stir together the espresso powder, vanilla extract, and hot water in a very small bowl.

Onto a large sheet of parchment or wax paper, sift together the flour, cake flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In a medium size bowl, toss the chocolate pieces with about 1 Tbsp. of this flour mixture. Set both aside.

In the large bowl of your mixer, cream the butter on medium speed for 2 minutes. Scrape the bowl.

Pour in the granulated sugar in 3 additions, mixing for about 1 minute after each addition. Scrape the bowl frequently to ensure even mixing. Add in all of the brown sugar and beat for 1 more minute. Scrape again.

One at a time, add in the eggs, beating for 45 seconds after each one. Scrape!

Blend in the espresso mixture.

On low speed, add in the sifted ingredients alternately with the sour cream (3 additions of flour and 2 additions of the sour cream). Scrape after each addition.

Blend in the heavy cream.

Remove the bowl from the mixer and fold in the chocolate pieces well with a spatula.

Spoon the batter into the prepared pan and smooth out the top.

 

Bake the cake on the middle rack of your oven for about 70 minutes or more, until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean and the cake starts to pull away slightly from the sides of the pan. (I put my pan on top of a baking sheet to help prevent the possibility of burning the bottom of the cake. If you are concerned about this too, do the same. I also checked the cake about half an hour into baking, and covered the top lightly with foil to prevent over-browning. My oven is temperamental this way.)

Cool the cake in the pan on a rack for 10 to 15 minutes. (If you used a springform pan, remove the sides of the pan after only 5 minutes. Run a thin knife around the edge if there seems to be any resistance at all.)

Invert the cake onto another cooling rack, remove the parchment paper and invert the cake again so it's right side up. Allow the cake to completely cool on the rack.

To make the ganache:

Place the chopped chocolate in a medium size bowl. In a heavy sauce pan, warm the heavy cream over a low flame. Do not let it boil. Pour all of the warm cream over the chocolate and let it sit undisturbed for a few minutes, then gently stir until all the chocolate is melted, completely blended in, and the ganache is smooth.

 
Wait until the ganache is closer to room temperature before spooning or pouring it over the cooled cake. (Be sure to place the cake on a rack over a sheet pan, to catch the drips, before pouring or spooning on the ganache! You can save and refrigerate any extra ganache to use for something else.)

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The Torte Report: Sacher-Torte, That Is . . .

I made a Sacher-Torte yesterday. I'd never made it before. "Oh, that's nice . . . but what exactly is Sacher-Torte anyway?" Perhaps you're asking that question . . . if so, it's a good one.

I'd never even entertained the thought of making this classic dessert until about a month ago, so I wasn't at all familiar with its particulars myself until just recently. I began reading about this Viennese cake after having chosen it as the subject for a research paper and baking assignment in my cookery class. Now, having wallowed a bit in its history, its preparation process, and quite literally in its ingredients, I can understand the magical effect it apparently had on those aristocratic Austrians who first tasted it in 1832. I can see, unequivocally, that it is not just another pastry.

It's been called the world's most famous cake, and it certainly is one of the oldest and most enduring cakes that we know of. Besides having a rich history, which I'll elaborate on a bit in a moment, it's a delightfully adult dessert. Your children won't be clamoring for pieces of this treat, and that's going to be just fine with you since it will mean more for the grown-ups. The bittersweet chocolate in the delicate batter, beautifully echoed in the silky ganache poured over the top, won't bring kids running. It's not sweet enough for them, not colorful enough, not gooey or crunchy or chewy enough. But it's perfect for you.

Only a modest slice is needed. A slice that has allowed itself to be cut so perfectly . . . a slice that nestles on its porcelain plate in a subdued fashion, patiently awaiting the soft dollop, or piped curlicue, of unsweetened whipped cream that has traditionally accompanied it for over 175 years. It was, in fact, the Sacher-Torte's very simplicity that made it so popular to begin with, and what a curious beginning it had.

It seems astounding to think that a sixteen-year old boy created such a charming and elegant dessert, but that's just what happened. Franz Sacher was an apprentice chef in the kitchen of Prince Metternich, an Austrian State Chancellor, in Vienna. The Prince was known for his demanding nature, and on this particular day he lived up to his reputation, ordering that a brand new dessert be produced under an exceptionally short deadline. Sacher's mentoring chef was not present to take on the task, so the young man did the best he could with what he had on hand. The torte he created was elegantly bare of adornment, relatively speaking, and delicious in its pure simplicity.

That was the start of something big.

Even today, the Hotel Sacher, arguably one of the world's most luxurious and historic hotels, is the designated purveyor of the torte. They've got an elaborate website devoted almost entirely to the Sacher-Torte alone! They will cheerfully ship it to you, wherever you are. Their longtime Viennese competitor, as far as the torte goes, is called Demel's. They have their own version as well, which they will tell you is just slightly different from the Hotel Sacher's. Among the lucky individuals who've tasted both versions, some choose the Hotel's while others opt for Demel's. (In fact, if I may digress for a moment, for an interesting item on Demel's new cafe in NYC, you might want to read this recent item on Tish Boyle's blog. I think it was serendipity that made the timing of her post on Demel's match so well with my need to make a Sacher-torte, and coincidence that it was her recipe I'd already picked before I even knew she'd done a post on Demel's! Her blog, Sweet Dreams, is one of my favorites.)

So valued was the Sacher-Torte to Franz's ancestors, as well as to the Viennese public, that it became the object of a 20th-century court case that dragged on for years, having to do with rights of ownership, the originality of the recipe, and so on. Some say it's the only cake that's ever been the subject of litigation. I don't know if that's true, but what a cute claim to fame -- The Cake that Went to Court!

Pretty impressive history for a little cake, hmm? I thought so too.

So, in light of all that, I was kind of hyped up to give this recipe a test-drive. I pored over quite a few recipe versions, in cookbooks and on the web, in trying to decide which one to try out. It was Tish Boyle's recipe, from The Cake Book, that I settled upon. I was hard-pressed to choose between her version and Carole Walter's from the book Great Cakes. Both were very clear and detailed, to be sure, and that's a large part of what I needed. But since I know from experience that Tish's recipes are reliably delicious . . . and I don't say that lightly . . . I picked hers. (I'm talkin' DELICIOUS delicious, you know? Mmm hmm.)

Below, then, is a slightly reworded, and slightly reorganized, version of Tish's recipe, with my usual commentary thrown in. (I made the cake twice in the same day because my first one didn't turn out as I'd liked; the second one was great and my helpful hints reflect what I focused on in order to improve the results of that second cake, so I assure you they're not gratuitous remarks!)

It's a lovely dessert, it really is . . . one that would be nice to serve to guests who appreciate confections other than rainbow-colored ice cream, Rice Krispy Treats, and Nutter Butters (though I have nothing, per se, against those whimsical items . . . to each his own . . . as long as you make mine Sacher-torte).

Sacher-Torte
(Adapted from Tish Boyle's The Cake Book. For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees; position a rack in the middle of oven. Grease the bottom and sides of a 9" springform pan. Line the bottom with a parchment paper circle; grease the paper.

For the cake:
4 oz. bittersweet chocolate , chopped (use really good chocolate; don't skimp here, bakers!)
10 Tbsp. unsalted butter, softened (not warm, but also not the least bit cold!)
1/2 cup confectioners' sugar (I think you'd better sift it!)
6 large eggs, separated, at room temperature (super important re the temp; no cold eggs!)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/8 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. cream of tartar
1/2 cup superfine sugar (if I were you, I wouldn't try to substitute regular granulated sugar)
3/4 cup cake flour (I think you'd better sift this too!)

For the apricot filling:
1 cup apricot preserves
2 Tbsp. water

For the bittersweet chocolate-ganache glaze:
6 oz. of high quality bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
2/3 cup heavy cream
1 tsp. vanilla extract

1) Prepare the cake first
Put the chocolate in a stainless steel bowl placed over a pot of barely simmering water. Heat the chocolate, stirring frequently, until completely melted. Remove the bowl from the pot and set it aside to cool (I think you'd better not let it cool to anything more than warmish room- temperature--seriously--or you're headed for trouble).

In the bowl of an electric mixer, using the paddle attachment, beat the butter at medium-high speed until creamy, for about 1 minute. Add in the confectioners' sugar gradually, and beat on high speed until light, for about 2 minutes. Reduce the speed to medium-low and add the egg yolks in one at a time, beating well after each addition and scraping the sides of the bowl as needed. Add the melted chocolate and the vanilla extract; mix until blended.

In a separate, clean mixer bowl (it's always at this point in a cake recipe that I thank my lucky stars I have two KitchenAid mixers--one big and one smaller), using the whisk attachment, beat the egg whites with the salt at medium speed until foamy. Add in the cream of tartar and beat at medium-high speed until the whites just begin to form soft peaks. While continuing to beat, add in the superfine sugar one tablespoon at a time, then beat on high speed until medium stiff peaks form.

Using a rubber spatula, fold half of the beaten egg whites gently into the chocolate mixture. Sift half of the flour over the batter and fold it in. Sift the remaining flour over that, and fold it in until it's almost but not completely blended. Scrape over the remaining egg whites and gently fold them in until blended. Scrape the batter into your prepared pan and smooth the top.

Bake for approximately 40 to 45 minutes (mine baked in just under 35 minutes, but that's to be expected; it's my hyperactive oven), until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool the cake completely in the pan, on a wire rack (don't even loosen the springform until the whole thing is cool--don't cheat here or you might be sorry!).


2) Prepare the filling
In a small saucepan, combine the preserves and water; cook over medium heat until the mixture begins to bubble; stir constantly! Pour the mixture through a fine sieve into a bowl, pressing it through with a rubber spatula.


3) Prepare the chocolate-ganache glaze
In the bowl of a food processor, process the chocolate until finely ground. Leave it in the bowl.

In a small saucepan, bring the cream to a boil. Remove from the heat and add the ground chocolate to the pan. Stir until the chocolate is completely melted and the glaze is smooth. Stir in the vanilla extract. Transfer the glaze to a small bowl, cover the surface with plastic wrap, and let it cool for about ten minutes; it needs to be a little warmish to pour over the cake, but not too much.

4) Assemble the cake
Run a thin knife around the edge of the cake pan to loosen it. Carefully remove the side of the pan. Invert the cake onto a cardboard cake round and gently remove the bottom of the pan, as well as the parchment circle. Using a serrated knife, or a cake leveler, cut the cake horizontally into 2 even layers. Handling it carefully so it doesn't break, set the top layer aside.

Using a pastry brush, spread one-third of the strained preserves over the bottom layer. Top with the remaining cake layer, and brush it, and the sides of the cake, with the remaining preserves. Refrigerate the cake, uncovered, while you make the chocolate glaze.

5) Glaze the cake
Put the chilled cake, still sitting on its cardboard cake round, on a wire rack set over a baking sheet.

Slowly pour the glaze onto the center (make sure it's the center!) of the cake. Use a small offset metal spatula to smooth the glaze over the top and sides of the cake, letting the excess glaze drip onto the baking sheet. (You won't have much time to do this before the glaze starts to cool, so work quickly and carefully and don't fuss with it. Just a few deliberate and gentle swipes over the top and along the sides should suffice. Trust me!)

If you like, pipe the name "Sacher" on the top. Or, if you're like me and you're hesitant to pipe it directly onto that perfectly smooth surface, make yourself a little chocolate medallion and pipe the word onto that. I took a couple tablespoons of dark chocolate that I'd melted, spread it to about the size of a large cookie on a piece of wax paper laying on a flat plate, and put that in the freezer for no more than five minutes. When it came out, I used a round scallop-edged cookie cutter to cut out a round "medallion" that I then used as the base for my writing. I wrote Sacher in cursive and put a little flourish under the word. The medallion is traditionally placed in an offset position, near the edge of the cake as pictured. That's how they do it at the Hotel Sacher at least (just check their website and you'll see what I mean). Be careful when placing the medallion on the cake, as the chocolate ganache stays soft for quite a while. Ever so delicately, set the medallion on it; don't try to push it in.

And voila! You have a splendid Sacher-torte . . . aren't you proud of yourself? I'll bet you can't wait to cut it. Take some pictures of it first, though, and don't forget to serve a little whipped cream next to each plated slice. Your fellow diners will thank you.

P.S. Oh, before I forget, I need to note that I left one component out of Tish's recipe, just in order to retain the more traditional nature of the dessert. I did not include a rum and sugar syrup that she brushes on her layers to add moisture. It sounds yummy, but I needed to stay closer to the original version. If I were to make this again, I think I might use the rum syrup, or maybe make a similar syrup with Kahlua, and then use raspberry preserves along with that on the cake instead of apricot preserves.


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