Okay, minor note to start, YES I am still alive — sorry I’ve been missing. Part of my issue is a lack of camera (my digital camera DIED, and yes, I cried, shutup). Also though, I’ve been busy. SO THERE.

I’ve been working on a site for my brother David, amazing actor that he is, and you guys can check it out over at davidmcmenomy.com. Lemme know what you think, what else you’d like to know/see about my bro!

Nope. This is an ad for better freaking parenting.

Seriously, dude. Grow a pair and discipline your kid.

I think I’m annoyed because this ad seems to basically say “having kids is bad.” The tag-line isn’t “be careful,” or “wait until you’re ready.” It’s “use condoms.” As if there could never be any situation, besides an accidental one, in which someone would put themselves through the terrible tragedy that having children must surely be.

Except that most of the parents I know will tell you that having children was and is the single most mind-warping, awe-inspiring, life-changing, beautiful thing that has ever happened in their lives.

What a wickedly crazy last month. I spent a few weeks with a regular ol’ head-and-chest cold (not swine flu, but still not fun). I staffed the Diocesan Convention for Olympia in Vancouver. I went to Steam-Con in Sea-Tac.

More recently, I was towed under not in a physical, but emotional sense when my dear, sweet cat, Planchet, passed away a week ago. He succumbed at last (I say “at last” because I had been warned of it so long ago) to his extensive health problems. I’m so thankful, though, for all of the kind words you’ve all offered. I knew it would be hard, but it’s a lot harder than I expected, both on me and on Pwca. It doesn’t feel so much like an emotional roller coaster as an emotional drop tower. But even those stop falling sometime, right?

I was looking at this plate this morning in a pretty old edition of the Inferno with the Doré illustrations, and after staring at it for a minute or two, found something that looked, well, weird. There seems to be a value difference along specific lines which indicates to me that either:

a) something was wrong or he changed his mind with the original etching plate and somehow burnished it and started over or
b) something was wrong with the print and he decided to replace it with another piece.

Here’s where I’m seeing it — it’s most obvious along the top of the patch:

Does anyone know the history of this image? Was there an earlier draft version with Danté in some different pose, maybe? I’m totally curious now, and alas, prints are not like paintings in this respect… you can’t take a glance at the underlayer because, um, there is none…

There’s a really high-res version of the full plate at Wikimedia, if you feel called to investigate it closely.

This is my Dobos Torte. It looks nothing, nothing like it was supposed to. According to Wikipedia, a real Dobos Torte is supposed to look like this:

This is, in fact, part of the reason that I decided to join Daring Bakers as well as Daring Cooks: because I CAN’T BAKE. Seriously. I can’t remember the last time I made an unburnt batch of cookies. Dough? That has to rise? Forget it.

Still — it did actually taste pretty delish. So I guess I’ll simply tell you want I did wrong so you don’t do likewise:

1) I got egg yolk in the whites I was trying to beat, and they never really reached the point of fluffiness I was expecting. Because of this…
2) I didn’t bake as many layers as I was supposed to. They were coming out really thin, so I just gave up on like the fourth layer and put the rest of the batter I had in.
3) I totally messed up the butter cream frosting. It’s supposed to basically cook up like a custard? I didn’t really ever manage to get it thick enough, because I didn’t get it hot enough. I know, because I was using a thermometer, and because, well, it just didn’t get thick enough. My usual double boiler tactic for, say, melting hot chocolate is to use a largish bowl centered in a smallish boiler pot. This is fine for chocolate, because you really don’t want chocolate to get much hotter than it does when you are holding it in your hand. Custard, however, has to cook. A large bowl on a small pot does not get widely distributed heat, and even if you turn the water all the way to high and stop stirring and stare at the bowl with great intensity, it just won’t get hot enough.
4) Having heated my uncooked custard, and because every step had taken about ten times longer than I expected it to, I had to finish things up so we could get dinner on the table. So, without waiting for the custard to cool, I added the chocolate and butter, which quickly dissolved — no creaming needed! This is why it looks so much like a ganache.
5) For what it’s worth, I also screwed up the caramel. I didn’t let it cook for long enough, and it was way too wet and oozy to actually work as a hard caramel. And then I served it to soon. I had too much frosting (because it was melting all over the place), so I put frosting over the caramel topping, too. So it really didn’t look like much.

But it still tasted really good. Honest.

OH well. Here it is. Now it’s your recipe to mess up!

The August 2009 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Angela of A Spoonful of Sugar and Lorraine of Not Quite Nigella. They chose the spectacular Dobos Torte based on a recipe from Rick Rodgers’ cookbook Kaffeehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Caffés of Vienna, Budapest, and Prague.

Dobos Torte
2-4 hours. (The original recipe said ~ 2, but it took me much, much longer.)

The Dobos Torte is a five-layer sponge cake, filled with a rich chocolate buttercream and topped with thin wedges of caramel. (You may come across recipes which have anywhere between six and 12 layers of cake; there are numerous family variations!) It was invented in 1885 by József C. Dobos, a Hungarian baker, and it rapidly became famous throughout Europe for both its extraordinary taste and its keeping properties. The recipe was a secret until Dobos retired in 1906 and gave the recipe to the Budapest Confectioners’ and Gingerbread Makers’ Chamber of Industry, providing that every member of the chamber can use it freely.

Sponge cake layers

6 large eggs, separated, at room temperature
1 1/3 cups (162g) confectioner’s (icing) sugar, divided
1 teaspoon (5ml) vanilla extract
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (112g) sifted cake flour (SUBSTITUTE 95g plain flour + 17g cornflour (cornstarch) sifted together)
pinch of salt

Chocolate Buttercream

4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup (200g) caster (ultrafine or superfine white) sugar
4oz (110g) bakers chocolate or your favourite dark chocolate, finely chopped
2 sticks plus 2 tablespoons (250g) unsalted butter, at room temperature.

Caramel topping

1 cup (200g) caster (superfine or ultrafine white) sugar
12 tablespoons (180 ml) water
8 teaspoons (40 ml) lemon juice
1 tablespoon neutral oil (e.g. grapeseed, rice bran, sunflower)

Finishing touches

a 7” cardboard round
12 whole hazelnuts, peeled and toasted
½ cup (50g) peeled and finely chopped hazelnuts

Directions for the sponge layers:

NB. The sponge layers can be prepared in advance and stored interleaved with parchment and well-wrapped in the fridge overnight.

1) Position the racks in the top and centre thirds of the oven and heat to 400F (200C).
2) Cut six pieces of parchment paper to fit the baking sheets. Using the bottom of a 9″ (23cm) springform tin as a template and a dark pencil or a pen, trace a circle on each of the papers, and turn them over (the circle should be visible from the other side, so that the graphite or ink doesn’t touch the cake batter.)
3) Beat the egg yolks, 2/3 cup (81g) of the confectioner’s (icing) sugar, and the vanilla in a medium bowl with a mixer on high speed until the mixture is thick, pale yellow and forms a thick ribbon when the beaters are lifted a few inches above the batter, about 3 minutes. (You can do this step with a balloon whisk if you don’t have a mixer.)
4) In another bowl, using clean beaters, beat the egg whites until soft peaks form. Gradually beat in the remaining 2/3 cup (81g) of confectioner’s (icing)sugar until the whites form stiff, shiny peaks. Using a large rubber spatula, stir about 1/4 of the beaten whites into the egg yolk mixture, then fold in the remainder, leaving a few wisps of white visible. Combine the flour and salt. Sift half the flour over the eggs, and fold in; repeat with the remaining flour.
5) Line one of the baking sheets with a circle-marked paper. Using a small offset spatula, spread about 3/4cup of the batter in an even layer, filling in the traced circle on one baking sheet. Bake on the top rack for 5 minutes, until the cake springs back when pressed gently in the centre and the edges are lightly browned. While this cake bakes, repeat the process on the other baking sheet, placing it on the centre rack. When the first cake is done, move the second cake to the top rack. Invert the first cake onto a flat surface and carefully peel off the paper. Slide the cake layer back onto the paper and let stand until cool. Rinse the baking sheet under cold running water to cool, and dry it before lining with another parchment. Continue with the remaining papers and batter to make a total of six layers. Completely cool the layers. Using an 8″ springform pan bottom or plate as a template, trim each cake layer into a neat round. (A small serrated knife is best for this task.)

Directions for the chocolate buttercream:

NB. This can be prepared in advance and kept chilled until required.

1) Prepare a double-boiler: quarter-fill a large saucepan with water and bring it to a boil.
2) Meanwhile, whisk the eggs with the sugar until pale and thickened, about five minutes. You can use a balloon whisk or electric hand mixer for this.
3) Fit bowl over the boiling water in the saucepan (water should not touch bowl) and lower the heat to a brisk simmer. Cook the egg mixture, whisking constantly, for 2-3 minutes until you see it starting to thicken a bit. Whisk in the finely chopped chocolate and cook, stirring, for a further 2-3 minutes.
4) Scrape the chocolate mixture into a medium bowl and leave to cool to room temperature. It should be quite thick and sticky in consistency.
5) When cool, beat in the soft butter, a small piece (about 2 tablespoons/30g) at a time. An electric hand mixer is great here, but it is possible to beat the butter in with a spatula if it is soft enough. You should end up with a thick, velvety chocolate buttercream. Chill while you make the caramel topping.

Lorraine’s note: If you’re in Winter just now your butter might not soften enough at room temperature, which leads to lumps forming in the buttercream. Male sure the butter is of a very soft texture I.e. running a knife through it will provide little resistance, before you try to beat it into the chocolate mixture. Also, if you beat the butter in while the chocolate mixture is hot you’ll end up with more of a ganache than a buttercream!

Directions for the caramel topping:

1) Choose the best-looking cake layer for the caramel top. To make the caramel topping: Line a jellyroll pan with parchment paper and butter the paper. Place the reserved cake layer on the paper. Score the cake into 12 equal wedges. Lightly oil a thin, sharp knife and an offset metal spatula.
2) Stir the sugar, water and lemon juice in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over a medium heat, stirring often to dissolve the sugar. Once dissolved into a smooth syrup, turn the heat up to high and boil without stirring, swirling the pan by the handle occasionally and washing down any sugar crystals on the sides of the pan with a wet brush until the syrup has turned into an amber-coloured caramel.
3) The top layer is perhaps the hardest part of the whole cake so make sure you have a oiled, hot offset spatula ready. I also find it helps if the cake layer hasn’t just been taken out of the refrigerator. I made mine ahead of time and the cake layer was cold and the toffee set very, very quickly—too quickly for me to spread it. Immediately pour all of the hot caramel over the cake layer. You will have some leftover most probably but more is better than less and you can always make nice toffee pattern using the extra to decorate. Using the offset spatula, quickly spread the caramel evenly to the edge of the cake layer. Let cool until beginning to set, about 30 seconds. Using the tip of the hot oiled knife (keep re-oiling this with a pastry brush between cutting), cut through the scored marks to divide the caramel layer into 12 equal wedges. Cool another minute or so, then use the edge of the knife to completely cut and separate the wedges using one firm slice movement (rather than rocking back and forth which may produce toffee strands). Cool completely.

Angela’s note: I recommend cutting, rather than scoring, the cake layer into wedges before covering in caramel (reform them into a round). If you have an 8” silicon round form, then I highly recommend placing the wedges in that for easy removal later and it also ensures that the caramel stays on the cake layer. Once set, use a very sharp knife to separate the wedges.

Assembling the Dobos

1) Divide the buttercream into six equal parts.
2) Place a dab of chocolate buttercream on the middle of a 7 1/2” cardboard round and top with one cake layer. Spread the layer with one part of the chocolate icing. Repeat with 4 more cake layers. Spread the remaining icing on the sides of the cake.
3) Optional: press the finely chopped hazelnuts onto the sides of the cake.
4) Propping a hazelnut under each wedge so that it sits at an angle, arrange the wedges on top of the cake in a spoke pattern. If you have any leftover buttercream, you can pipe rosettes under each hazelnut or a large rosette in the centre of the cake. Refrigerate the cake under a cake dome until the icing is set, about 2 hours. Let slices come to room temperature for the best possible flavor.

This is my baby. His name is Planchet. When Planchet came to me, he was only a few weeks old, and not much larger than a grande latte. He easily fit into one of my hands (which are themselves pretty small). We didn’t know where he’d come from or who his mom was or anything else about him: he was just out meowing in a woodpile one night.

See how his eyes are sort of crossed and unfocused? He’s over a year old now, and he has some problems. We think that he may have been underdeveloped in the womb, because he is blind (my vet has assured me that this is a neurological problem, not an optical one), and he has extraordinarily violent seizures. I always try to throw a blanket over him to hold him down as gently as possible. (Don’t ever, ever do this with your bare hands — if your cat’s as violent as mine, he’ll bite and scratch without the slightest knowledge that he’s doing so. But if you have a towel, blanket, or sweatshirt handy, it may keep them from harming themselves). After it’s over, his eyes are full of kitty-tears and he sits, panting, whimpering a little, while I try to pet and soothe him as best I can until he calms back down.

If I thought he were unhappy or suffering a lot, I might have him put down. As it is, he’s probably the happiest, snuggliest cat I’ve known in my entire life. He never turns down a bit of petting and snuggling, and he loves everyone he meets. He never flips out or bites people, and he’s basically never all aloof and posturing, either. And I’m pretty sure he thinks I am his mom.

He loves having his face touched. He starts purring instantly, closes his eyes and gets a goofy, happy little grin on his face. Then he leans into it, sometimes so far that he falls over.

Oh yeah. That’s the stuff.

Just sayin’.

It’s all part of PETA’s re-branding campaign for fish, which I think is ridiculous… and adorable. Of course, my Shelly’s a monocerotic rhinestone-studded tiara-wearing badass and can pretty much take care of herself by skewering anyone who comes near her. So she probably doesn’t need PETA’s help.

I have a problem. I love to cook, lots of food, and I haven’t got enough people to eat all the food I want to cook. I need more gastronomically-adventurous guinea pigs. And I like meeting new people.

July 11th, at one of Seattle’s parks (to be decided and announced), I’ll be serving a mid-afternoon picnic. With any luck the weather will hold.

I invite you: the first four Seattle-area replies I get. E-mail, Tweet me, comment, whatever. It’s okay if I’ve never met you before. It’s okay if I have. If you have specific food allergies or dietary restrictions, let me know. I’ll take into account all factors and construct some sort of menu that’ll fit your needs.

…who’s interested?

If you’re interested, but can’t make it, let me know — maybe I’ll do it again, and I’ll keep you in the loop. And please re-post or show this to friends you think would be up to it!

This could be in your mouth.

When I was about 10, following a Lent during which my whole family had given up all meat, I announced that I would not be eating meat anymore. My parents supported me in this, so long as I was nutritionally aware and conscientious about my eating habits, and I became completely vegetarian for about ten years. After waning resolve, though, and the desire for more culinary variety and better diet choices, I have embraced seafood. I still won’t eat red meat or poultry, although my concerns at this point are less for the fuzzy widdle animals, and more for the tons of grain that support them to get all fattened — it does not seem that relying on cows, for example, as a food source is really sustainable and responsible.

All that said, once I’d gotten past the initial barrier or eating seafood again (oh, sushi! How I love thee), I’ve started cooking it again. (Yes, I was cooking seafood before I was 10.)

In recent weeks I’ve subjected my parents to several seafood experiments. The first was this crab, avocado, and lime tower from La Tartine Gourmande. After making this from her recipe, I think that I’d cut back a bit on both the lime and the amount of avocado used so that the crab could really shine a bit more — but all the same, it was amazingly delicious. Also, I don’t believe I’ve ever before made a food that could be classified as a “tower,” so I was surprised and delighted that it held together properly and didn’t go all Pisa on me. My crab tower is significantly less gorgeous than hers, but I will accept that that is why I am the amateur and she is the professional. The Dungeness crab (which we got fresh at Whole Foods) was pretty much as sweet and perfect as crab can be, and played well against the tart lime and creamy avocados. Pictured to the side of the crab tower (or crab flower in my case, I think) here are a couple of stuffed mushrooms I made — I pretty much mixed up diced onions, garlic, the mushroom stems, and a little salt and olive oil and popped them in the mushrooms to bake for about ten minutes. VERY simple, and nom-nommy.

The other (rather more adventurous) dish that I made recently was a baked salmon and mussel dish of Spanish origin. I got the original recipe from “Food of Spain: a Journey for Food Lovers,” but I changed it up a little bit; for one thing, I did away with the clams (I was intimidated enough by the mussels), and for another, I condensed the sauce a bit more than the cookbook indicated. I was glad that this was one I chose to cook at my parents’ house, because I’m not sure how I would have gotten away without cooking it in the Le Creuset pot I used. The cider itself didn’t flavor this dish so much as provide a base for the onions and salmon to come out, and to steam the mussels. I was sort of amazed when I cooked the mussels and, indeed, as the cookbook had said, they gently popped opened. It reminded me slightly of cheese racing as I watched them open one by one, and quietly mocked the runt of the bunch, which never really opened. (I threw it out. Apparently if they don’t open when you cook them, it means they were already dead, which means they could be rotten, which means you really don’t want to eat them.) The parsley made a big difference to this dish as well. Parsley’s used so often as a garnish, one starts to wonder what it really adds besides its pretty looks — but in some dishes, I’d say it’s entirely mandatory. This one came out with the full flavors of salmon and mussels, the onions mild and sweetened by the cider, and the bit of pepper adding a little bite to the proceedings.