We returned home Friday night after a nearly two week 'tour of the eastern seaboard', as it were. After cancelled flights, cancelled trains, 2 feet of snow, and the flu all-around, we finally got out from Philadelphia. (Another story for another day, I'm sure.)
The time change is always hardest when traveling east, it seems. But it does get rather annoying when your daughter refuses to adjust back once you've returned home. (Usually Emilia waits until we get home before she finally decides to adjust to east coast time.) Although, it certainly served us well on Sunday.
A typical Sunday Chez Bindas is to get up, rush through breakfast and showers, and almost get to church at 11:00 on time. (No comments, please.) However, this Sunday Emilia woke up at 5:37 in the morning singing Simon & Garfunkel at the top of her lungs, and randomly yelling, 'Mama get you!'
So after a nice breakfast of pancakes and bacon, I decided to get started on our Valentine's Day cake. I also decided that Miss Milia was going to help. So we pulled a chair from the dining room table into the kitchen, perched her on it, and got started. She helped measure flour, sugar, and vanilla. She tossed the egg shells in the trash, tasted the cocoa powder, and whisked and whisked away with me. We had ourselves a grand time. And what do you know? Two layers of chocolate cake were left cooling on the wire racks as we slipped into church a few minutes early. That's right — early.
After nap-time we assembled the cake. We pulled the chair back into the kitchen, whipped cream, mashed raspberries, and made ganâche. (More accurately, Emilia ate the raspberries while her mama did these things.) But she was more than excited to help sandwich the layers, drizzle the frosting, and stud the top with raspberries. So excited, in fact, that I literally had to remove her little little mouth from the cake — not once, but twice (once before the frosting and once after). I kept telling her that it is considered shocking behaviour to bite into a whole cake before one has even finished making it, but she didn't care. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she was being raised in a barn.
I brought the cake to the table after a lovely soup dinner, and Emilia looked delighted. She was rather pleased with her little self for 'help[ing] mama make Valentine cake!' And after all that, she still sat and just ate the raspberries.
The cake itself is wonderful (as are all of Nigella's cakes). It's not too sweet so you can really taste the raspberries. And strangely enough, Michael (who won't go near a cupcake to save his life) had two pieces. Aaaah, a man after my own heart!
For the cake
⅔ cup milk
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
3 eggs
1 cup superfine sugar (we used regular-fine sugar as we are out of the superfine)
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons best unsweetened cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
For the filling
½ cup heavy cream
1 cup raspberries (and see ganâche recipe)
For the ganâche
⅔ cup heavy cream
5 ½ ounces dark chocolate, minimum 70% cocoa solids
1 tablespoon corn syrup
1 cup raspberries
Preheat the oven to 325°. Grease and line two 9-inch cake pans. (Nigella uses a heart shaped pan. Sadly, we use a circle.)
Pour the milk into a pyrex measuring cup, add the butter, and pop in the microwave until the butter has melted. Pour in your vanilla and set aside.
Using your mixer with the paddle attachment, whisk the eggs and sugar until thick, light, and frothy. Alternatively, a hand-held mixer would work. Meanwhile, combine the flour, cocoa, and baking soda.
Pour the milk mixture into the butter mixture and mix until incorporated. Turn off the mixer and fold in the dry ingredients. Divide between the two pans and bake for about 20 minutes. Let cool in their pans for 10 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack. Turn over so the tops are still on top. Leave to cool; go to church and have a nap.
To fill the cake, whip the cream until thick, but not stiff. Add the raspberries and mash with the back of a fork, taking care not to pulverize them. Sandwich the layers.
For the ganâche, put the cream, the chocolate (cut into smallish pieces), and the syrup in a pan over low heat. Right as the chocolate has melted, begin whisking, by hand, until it is smooth and glossy. Pour over the top of the cake and begin to spread as best you can. It will drip — every time I make this cake, it drips. I've decided that it is part of its charm.
Stud the top of the cake with your raspberries. You are supposed to simply go around the perimeter, but as you can see, we did not. We sort of went all over the place. The cake is still fabulous the next day, but make sure to refrigerate it. (Recipe from: Feast: Food to Celebrate Life, by Nigella Lawson. Hyperion, 2004.)
The time change is always hardest when traveling east, it seems. But it does get rather annoying when your daughter refuses to adjust back once you've returned home. (Usually Emilia waits until we get home before she finally decides to adjust to east coast time.) Although, it certainly served us well on Sunday.
A typical Sunday Chez Bindas is to get up, rush through breakfast and showers, and almost get to church at 11:00 on time. (No comments, please.) However, this Sunday Emilia woke up at 5:37 in the morning singing Simon & Garfunkel at the top of her lungs, and randomly yelling, 'Mama get you!'
So after a nice breakfast of pancakes and bacon, I decided to get started on our Valentine's Day cake. I also decided that Miss Milia was going to help. So we pulled a chair from the dining room table into the kitchen, perched her on it, and got started. She helped measure flour, sugar, and vanilla. She tossed the egg shells in the trash, tasted the cocoa powder, and whisked and whisked away with me. We had ourselves a grand time. And what do you know? Two layers of chocolate cake were left cooling on the wire racks as we slipped into church a few minutes early. That's right — early.
After nap-time we assembled the cake. We pulled the chair back into the kitchen, whipped cream, mashed raspberries, and made ganâche. (More accurately, Emilia ate the raspberries while her mama did these things.) But she was more than excited to help sandwich the layers, drizzle the frosting, and stud the top with raspberries. So excited, in fact, that I literally had to remove her little little mouth from the cake — not once, but twice (once before the frosting and once after). I kept telling her that it is considered shocking behaviour to bite into a whole cake before one has even finished making it, but she didn't care. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear she was being raised in a barn.
I brought the cake to the table after a lovely soup dinner, and Emilia looked delighted. She was rather pleased with her little self for 'help[ing] mama make Valentine cake!' And after all that, she still sat and just ate the raspberries.
The cake itself is wonderful (as are all of Nigella's cakes). It's not too sweet so you can really taste the raspberries. And strangely enough, Michael (who won't go near a cupcake to save his life) had two pieces. Aaaah, a man after my own heart!
For the cake
⅔ cup milk
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
3 eggs
1 cup superfine sugar (we used regular-fine sugar as we are out of the superfine)
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons best unsweetened cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
For the filling
½ cup heavy cream
1 cup raspberries (and see ganâche recipe)
For the ganâche
⅔ cup heavy cream
5 ½ ounces dark chocolate, minimum 70% cocoa solids
1 tablespoon corn syrup
1 cup raspberries
Preheat the oven to 325°. Grease and line two 9-inch cake pans. (Nigella uses a heart shaped pan. Sadly, we use a circle.)
Pour the milk into a pyrex measuring cup, add the butter, and pop in the microwave until the butter has melted. Pour in your vanilla and set aside.
Using your mixer with the paddle attachment, whisk the eggs and sugar until thick, light, and frothy. Alternatively, a hand-held mixer would work. Meanwhile, combine the flour, cocoa, and baking soda.
Pour the milk mixture into the butter mixture and mix until incorporated. Turn off the mixer and fold in the dry ingredients. Divide between the two pans and bake for about 20 minutes. Let cool in their pans for 10 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack. Turn over so the tops are still on top. Leave to cool; go to church and have a nap.
To fill the cake, whip the cream until thick, but not stiff. Add the raspberries and mash with the back of a fork, taking care not to pulverize them. Sandwich the layers.
For the ganâche, put the cream, the chocolate (cut into smallish pieces), and the syrup in a pan over low heat. Right as the chocolate has melted, begin whisking, by hand, until it is smooth and glossy. Pour over the top of the cake and begin to spread as best you can. It will drip — every time I make this cake, it drips. I've decided that it is part of its charm.
Stud the top of the cake with your raspberries. You are supposed to simply go around the perimeter, but as you can see, we did not. We sort of went all over the place. The cake is still fabulous the next day, but make sure to refrigerate it. (Recipe from: Feast: Food to Celebrate Life, by Nigella Lawson. Hyperion, 2004.)
I used to love baking/cooking with my children. I have so many wonderful memories of small hands and sometimes small feet covered with flour, sugar and especially chocolate. I used to keep large quantities of baking materials. I had a large plastic bucket of brown sugar, and whenever I would bake cookies each child got to pick a lump of the sugar to tide them over until the cookies came out of the oven. One time my oldest daughter came running to help me stir up a batch of bread. In her excitement she started to climb on top of the flour can, only to discover that mom had not put the lid back. I love remembering the look on her face as her bare foot sank deeper into the soft flour. The look of dismay quickly changed one of wonder and then giggles as she began to wiggle her toes before I could lift her out. I wonder if she has thr same fond memory that her mom has. I don't think I will ask. Oh, so many wonderful memories. Tonya enjoy every minute in the kitchen with Miss Milia. You will blink your eyes and she will be off in the world and you will be left with nothing but memories.
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