Dark Chocolate Torte

This feels so out of character, sneaking in here after a long absence with nothing short of a slice of decadence to share.  We have just been eating so gloriously healthily lately, and I have so much to share, but this is what I show up with.  Maybe I should apologize.

It has been just splendid in our kitchen again, of late.  Winter was such a busy time and creativity ran so thin, you see, that the inherent glory in our new slower schedule and in the luscious offerings of our weekly vegetable boxes has sparked a revolution.  The past few weeks have been full of new recipes, I keep renewing a new favorite cookbook from the library, and we are already in our second week of the new CSA season.

Breakfast has become a more adventurous time, replete with oat muffins, baked oatmeal with berries, new granola recipes, mixed berry Dutch babies, French toast on weekdays (even on Monday!); the kids and I are again happily snacking on cucumbers, carrots, and radishes fresh from a farm; lunchtime has featured one of my very favorite dishes: boiled beets with sauteed beet greens.  I even found a perfect recipe for turnips.

Things are good.  So good that I feel silly for letting budgetary constraints keep us from our beloved CSA membership last summer.  Granted, we have changed farms this time around, finding one in which members pay a monthly fee rather than having to cough up the entire season's payment upfront, and that has made all the difference for us as we continue to limp through this faltering economy.

But I didn't come here to talk about money.  Accounting is my day job - well, it is one of them.  This here though, this lovely little slice of internet that I call home, is about everything in my life besides boring old financial talk.

And today, I bring you chocolate.

The Carnivore and I enjoyed a rather smashing dinner at The National recently, a dinner in which even the olive oil for bread-dipping was a revelation.  There were scallops and grits and fava beans, there was chewy ciabatta, there was an exquisitely-prepared stuffed trout with ramps and even more fava beans, (there was also some sort of meat dish that The Carnivore ordered which slipped my disinterested mind), but what stood out the most was dessert.

Can you believe it?  That I would let chocolate overshadow all else?

It was a torte which took our breath away, a flourless chocolate torte, with blackberry sauce and a tiny but perfect scoop of espresso-almond semifreddo.  It was ridiculous, of course, just utterly mind-blowing, and I may or may not have used my finger to mop up the very last crumb.  When I mentioned to The Carnivore that I had a recipe for a similar torte that I had been wanting to try but just hadn't gotten around to it (for, you know, a couple of years), he looked at me like I had gone mad and encouraged me to get to it.  And soon.

Soon, as it would turn out, was only a few days later.  The Carnivore had a birthday, you see, which was why we had been at The National in the first place, but when the actual date rolled around mid-week, I unearthed that recipe and gave it a go.

Have you ever had a torte?  It is a bit like cheesecake in texture, though not quite as heavy.  Actually, the best description I can think of is to call it a fudge-like pie.  It is rich and it is dense, but surprisingly light at the same time, almost fluffy.  Oh, don't mistake me, I do not use the word "light" to imply that it is in any way low in calories or fat.  That would be entirely untrue.  This dessert could easily clog your arteries, put some weight on your bones, and even take a few years off your life, but it would be worth it.

The recipe I used did have a wee bit of flour, unlike the one from the restaurant, and I couldn't help but use dark chocolate.  A few other tweaks were also in order, of course.  Blackberries are a bit hard to come by right now, so I decided to make a sauce using some frozen raspberries that I had on hand, and I ran out of time before figuring out what to do about the semifreddo component, so I simply tossed some heavy cream into the mixer with a bit of sugar and homemade vanilla extract and dolloped a little lightly sweetened, softly whipped cream on top of the finished torte.

The torte itself was rather simple to prepare, but was a bit fussy to remove from the pan.  My only advice with this is to go with a rustic presentation and be prepared to lick the bottom of the pan to extract all the yummy goodness.  Then again, it is also possible that I undercooked it slightly and that is why removal was a sticky process, but in my experience with baking desserts, undercooking is always preferable to overcooking.  So there you go.

One last bit of advice: a little goes a long way when serving this.  It is decadent, as I said (as I also said, it is completely worth it), and a tiny sliver dished out onto a pretty plate will be, I think, more than enough.

*****

DARK CHOCOLATE TORTE (serves 12 to 16), adapted from Fine Cooking


Note: Do not be dismayed by the wordy instructions.  This is really quite simple to prepare, and does not take very much hands-on time at all.

• 12 oz dark chocolate, coarsely chopped
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1 Tbs instant espresso granules
• 6 large eggs, room temperature
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/4 cup all-purpose flour

1. In a food processor, grind the chocolate for about 30 seconds, until it resembles coarse meal.  
2. In a small saucepan, bring the cream to a boil over medium heat.
3. Add the cream to the food processor, and process with the chocolate until smooth, about 10 seconds.
4. Dissolve the espresso powder in 1 Tbs hot water and add it to the warm ganache in the food processor; process until fully mixed, about 10 seconds.
5. Transfer the ganache to a large bowl.
6. Heat the oven to 400 degrees, and very generously butter the bottom and sides of a 10-inch springform pan.  Have ready a roasting pan just large enough to set the springform pan in, and put on a kettle of water to boil.
7. In a stand mixer, using the whisk attachment, whip together the eggs, sugar, and flour, at just under high speed for about 6 minutes, until mixture has doubled in volume and is pale and fluffy.
8. Using a rubber spatula, stir about 1/3 of the egg mixture into the ganache mixture until fully combined.
9. With the rubber spatula, gently fold the remainder of the egg mixture into the ganache until just combined and all egg streaks have disappeared.
10. Pour the batter into the greased springform pan.  If at all worried about water seeping into the springform pan, line the outside bottom and sides with heavy duty aluminum foil (I didn't bother).  Set the springform pan into the roasting pan, and add boiling water to the roasting pan until it covers the bottom one inch or so of the springform pan.
11. Bake at 400 degrees for about 15 to 20 minutes, until a dry crust forms on the top and the edges seem set.  The center should still be a bit wobbly.
12. Remove the torte from the water bath (and remove the foil, if you used it).  Cool to room temperature, and then refrigerate it until completely cold and fully set, at least three hours - longer if you can stand it.  
13. To unmold, remove the springform ring.  Put a piece of plastic wrap on the top of the torte and invert it onto a baking sheet.  Remove the pan bottom, using a knife around the edges to help separate it from the torte.  Things may get a bit messy here.  Stick with it, and if a lot of the torte sticks to the bottom of the pan, simply scrape it off with a knife and gently press it back onto the bottom of the torte.  It is the bottom after all - who cares what the bottom looks like?  Invert the torte onto a serving platter (so that it is now right side up again) and remove the plastic wrap.
14. To cut, use a knife that has been dipped in hot water, or use unwaxed dental floss.  
15. To serve, top with freshly whipped cream, a tiny scoop of coffee ice cream, and/or berry sauce (recipe below).

*****

BERRY SAUCE (makes about 1 1/2 cups), adapted from Bon Appetit

Note: Leftover sauce is delicious on top of French toast or pancakes, or stirred into plain yogurt.

• 16 oz frozen blackberries or raspberries
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 Tbs fresh lemon juice, divided
• 2 tsp cornstarch
• 1/4 tsp finely grated lemon peel

1. In a small saucepan, bring the berries and sugar to a simmer over medium-high heat.  Simmer for one minute.  
2. Stir 1/2 Tbs lemon juice and cornstarch together in small bowl until cornstarch dissolves.
3. Add cornstarch mixture to berries and stir until thickened, about one minute.  Remove from heat.
4. Stir in remaining 1/2 Tbs lemon juice, and lemon peel.
5. Serve warm, cold, or at room temperature, as desired.

Pimento Cheese, Southern Soul Style

Pimento cheese has been rising in esteem amongst food writers as of late, and I say it is about time.  Done right, pimento cheese can be a thing of beauty.  It can be fresh, a little spicy, and even - dare I say it - elegant.

However, the ways in which this spread can be done wrong are myriad, and I am loathe to focus on that too much because I am, after all, bringing to you The Single Best Recipe for Pimento Cheese in the World.

I kid you not.  This is Best-in-Show kind of stuff.

Everyone is familiar with pimento cheese, right?  It is that simple spread of grated cheddar cheese, mayonnaise, salt, and pimentos that you find on tiny finger sandwiches and on the menus of old-fashioned Southern diners and even, nowadays, hip, modern restaurants.  It is, sadly, sometimes that gloppy stuff you have sneered at when it has been handed to you on soft bread and which you thought might just kill you if you had to take one more bite of the uni-textured nonsense.

It can also be that well-balanced, sharp, slightly spicy spread that you had on extra-crusty crostini at a wedding reception and that you sent your husband on a quest to find three more pieces of for you.  It can even be that perfect appetizer you dived into so lustily that you dribbled a little bit on your dress and got some in your hair.

But that would only happen if you were a little klutzy to begin with and you were laughing so hard at some of your husband's hilarious friends that it was tough to do anything gracefully, much less scarf down a plateful of perfect pimento cheese on toast.

The wedding, you see, was that of one of the owners of Southern Soul Barbecue on St. Simon's Island, and the food, as one would expect, was revelatory.  There were collard greens redolent of brown sugar, crisp and tart house-made pickles, Hoppin' John that was so rich and well-seasoned I may or may not have had to go for seconds, and, of course, barbecue.

I don't eat meat, but there is no shortage of love for their BBQ.

The swoon-inducing pimento cheese was a thing of dreams though, and when, a month later, I was still talking about it, I finally broke down and emailed Griffin to see if I could not only obtain the recipe, but could also share it here.

Griffin's a good man.  The recipe was in my hands by the next morning, and I was happily whipping up a batch before lunchtime.  His recipe is a thing of genius, eschewing the usual canned pimentos for freshly-roasted red bell peppers, and including a little cream cheese and a little Texas Pete.

God bless the Texas Pete.  The spicy kick is exquisite, and it provides both a foil to the richness of the cream cheese and another note of flavor to the finished mixture.

I reduced the mayo a wee bit to get the right balance for the scaled-down version of the recipe, and that is how I present it below.  As for serving, may I strongly recommend spreading the Pimento Cheese on something crispy?  This is a soft-textured and rich spread, and it benefits greatly from being paired with thin, well-toasted slices of baguette or ciabatta bread, or a crispy cracker if you are so inclined.  A light sprinkling of coarse sea salt to finish it elevates the perfection.

*****

PIMENTO CHEESE (adapted from Southern Soul BBQ), yields about seven cups

• 3 red bell peppers
• 6 cups shredded extra sharp cheddar cheese
• 1/2 cup softened cream cheese
• 1 cup Duke's mayonnaise
• 1 Tbs onion powder
• 1 Tbs granulated garlic
• 2 tsp white pepper
• 2 tsp salt
• 6 to 12 drops (to taste) Texas Pete hot sauce

1. Roast peppers over flame on gas stove, on broil setting in oven, or on grated grill, turning frequently until blistered and charred.  Remove peppers from heat, cover with a kitchen towel, and let steam for 5 minutes.  Peel the peppers, slice in half and discard the seeds and membrane, and finely dice the pepper halves.
2. Combine diced peppers, softened cream cheese, mayo, and all spices in a large bowl and mix well.
3. Add the grated cheese to the mixture, and stir to combine.
4. Refrigerate for at least an hour to allow flavors to meld.  

Affogato Mocha

Friends, I had such good intentions.  I knew I would be able to spend some time in here today, and I had so very many things up my sleeve that I have been dying to share.  The wisteria, for one, which spent the better part of the past eight days transforming my yard into a brilliant purple wonderland, and of which I took something like twelve bazillion photographs.  And then there was the pimento cheese recipe that I obtained from Southern Soul BBQ and which I whipped up yesterday and greedily scarfed down for lunch today, piled high atop toasted ciabatta from my favorite local bakery.

Quite seriously, the most perfect pimento cheese recipe and one which I have not been able to stop thinking about since I first fell in love with it at a wedding last month.  Really, I promise to be back here soon with this recipe.  It would be rude to keep it to myself.

Oh, and those roasted sweet potato wedges from last night, all charred and smoky, crispy on the outside, creamy and velvety smooth on the inside; and the date-nut truffles that use neither sugar nor butter and which are simply the most wonderful little bites of healthy decadence...

But then I made a fatal mistake.  I was fooling around on Pinterest (because it is Sunday afternoon and I can waste all the time I want), and I typed 'coffee ice cream' into the search box (silly me) which yielded a recipe for Affogato Mocha.  I am sure it will come as no surprise that, without thinking twice, I put down the computer and went straight to the kitchen (mistake #3, if anyone is still keeping score).

Affogato Mocha, you see, is a very simple and elegant little dessert made up of ice cream drowned in espresso - sort of like a milkshake, only not blended, and much more glorious.  There are countless variations, many of which call for chocolate ice cream or gelato, but it is no secret that I find coffee to be the greatest flavor known to man.

I had coffee ice cream in my freezer, coffee liqueur in the pantry, a tiny container of grated dark chocolate in the refrigerator, and a French Press just waiting to be filled with double-strength coffee.  It was fate.  I would have been mad to resist.

Within minutes, the adults in the house were in a state of bliss, slurping up the last drops of this luscious and sinful easy little dessert.  I would have been remiss to not run straight here to share it with you.  Cheers.

*****

AFFOGATO MOCHA, serves 2

• 2 scoops coffee ice cream
• 4 Tbs espresso or double-strength brewed coffee (still hot)
• 2 to 4 Tbs coffee liqueur 
• 2 Tbs grated dark chocolate

1. Place one scoop of ice cream in each of two small bowls.
2. Pour 2 Tbs espresso over each scoop of ice cream.
3. Pour 1 to 2 Tbs coffee liqueur over each scoop.
4. Top each bowl with 1 Tbs grated dark chocolate.
5. Serve immediately.

Surprise Spring

Every year, I am shocked and appalled at how busy I am from mid-January through late March.  And every year, almost without fail, Spring sneaks up on me from out behind the cold, gray late winter days, and it jumps out in front with a wild explosion of wisteria, the quirky droning sound of busy little bumblebees, the surprise onset of thick, fluffy grass, and days so beautiful they take my breath away.

The doors are flung open all day long now, and the sun feels so delicious.  The grand busy-ness of my work season is abating (though not quite gone yet), and I steal moments where I can.

There have been entirely too many, "No, honey, mama is too busy right now," conversations in the house lately, and an abysmal lack of time for anything unrelated to the barebones basics of our homeschooling routine or to the accounting/taxation side of my life.

But we are master moment-stealers, and our schedules are beginning to find some margin again.  Time for reading stories together, time to play with the members of our reptilian menagerie, time for baking mostly-healthy-but-slightly-decadent treats, time for bloom-gazing.  Time for each other.  Oh, Springtime, we are so pleased to see you again.

An Unusual Week for An Unusual Boy

Eight years ago, our first child decided he wanted to be born two weeks early.  We were woefully unprepared.  The Money Pit house would not be completed for another six weeks, which meant we were bringing our little boy home from the hospital to the ancient little trailer we were living in during the renovation.  The delays on the house also meant that I had delayed purchasing a new (used) car because I am allergic to making too many financial decisions at one time.  This particular issue was a big one.  My beloved CRX did not have a backseat.

I had contractions on and off all that day, and I was absurdly active from dawn to dusk.  We ate dinner that evening, and settled in to watch a movie (I wish I remembered which one), but before the first preview was over, I doubled over with my first Very Real Contraction.  When it passed, I shrugged and reached for a doughnut.  Within minutes, another Very Real Contraction came.  The Carnivore looked at me.  I stared blankly back at him.

After the next Very Real Contraction, we began to time them, watching in disbelief as we began to fill the page with times that were consistently within five minutes of each other.  We called the doctor, told him how closely the contractions were coming, and he said to head to the hospital immediately.

We argued with him, of course.  We still had two weeks to go, you see.  And it was late evening on February 28, and the following day was February 29, and we couldn't possibly have this baby on Leap Day.  Besides, they were probably just going to send us home after a few hours and tell us it was false labor, right?  RIGHT?

The doctor laughed.  "You're having this baby, tonight," he said.  "It's time to come to the hospital now."

The Carnivore looked at me.  Again, I stared blankly back at him, before doubling over with another Very Real, Very Painful Contraction.  "I haven't packed yet," I cried.  "We haven't bought a bigger car yet," I whimpered.

"I'M NOT READY," I yelled.

I called my mother.  "But America's Most Wanted is about to come on," she complained.  "Besides, first babies never come early."

Princess of Denial, allow me to introduce you to your mother, The Queen of Denial.

The Boy Wonder was born in the early morning hours of February 29, 2004, and this week, he officially turned two.  He is an unusual child, with an unusual birthday, and we celebrated him all week long.  In an unusual fashion, of course.

Create-a-Face pancakes for breakfast, with puddles of artificially-colored and artificially-flavored strawberry syrup?  Yes.

A drizzly day ambling slowly through our small local zoo, hooting like an owl?  Yes.

Time to dawdle and watch the ducks?  Yes.

Time to dawdle with the ducks?  Yes.

Ice cream for lunch?  Yes.

A giant chocolate cake with creme de menthe buttercream and chocolate buttercream, topped with mini chocolate chips, and matching cupcakes?  Yes.

A birthday party at the Nature Center where you can pet snakes and go on a nature walk and introduce your friends and cousins to one of your very favorite places on earth?  Yes, yes, and yes.

Happy Birthday, my dear funny little son.  Thank you for keeping us on our toes from the very beginning.  Thank you for being patient while we learned how to be parents.  Thank you for being you.   "Today you are You, that is truer than true.  There is no one alive who is Youer than You."  

Three Times A Day: Day Twelve

~~ Morning ~~

I came into the living room at seven this morning and saw that the temperature was 67 degrees outside.  I opened the doors wide, letting the fresh air and the sound of the birds morning songs fill the house.  The rain started by nine o'clock, and we stood in the open doorway and enjoyed the warm breeze.

~~ Noon ~~

Elvis saw the open door, and inched his way inside, spending much of his time wistfully looking outside, as if we had trapped him inside the [still open] door.  That silly big dog doesn't fool anyone.  When thunder shook the house, he tried to wedge himself into my lap.  

~~ Night ~~

Tonight's temperature is supposed to dip back down into the thirties again.  I was tempted to complain bitterly about that fact, but then decided to simply view today's warmth as the lovely gift it was.

Three Times A Day: Day Eleven

~~ Morning ~~

Thursdays have been our out-of-the-house days this year.  Princess Hazelnut spends the afternoon with my mom and grandma, The Boy Wonder goes to his homeschool academy, and I juggle meetings with clients.  It has been good for all of us, these afternoons in which we go our separate ways once a week.  Their favorite part is snuggling up together to watch a morning cartoon while I shower and get ready.  Mine is the time spent impersonating an adult.  By the time we return to each other, four short hours later, we are excited to see each other again, and we hug and kiss and tell each other all the little details of our time apart, as if days have passed.

~~ Noon ~~

I was a beat or two off all day.  Clients weren't where they were supposed to be at the right times, I was still a little unsteady as a final decision was made about The Boy Wonder's educational plan for next year, and at least twice I swore everyone around me was speaking a different language.  As I left downtown, and made my circuitous climb up the flights of stairs in the parking deck, I suddenly realized that the seven-month-old 'Out of Order' signs were no longer on the elevator doors.  I was almost to the top by that time though, so I just shrugged and kept climbing.

~~ Night ~~

Six years ago, our little family suffered a loss that seemed to be insurmountable.  My sister gave me purple hyacinths during that time, and I will forever associate their heady fragrance with those difficult winter days.  When the four of us reconvened at dinnertime today, Princess Hazelnut greeted me with a grimy fistful of daffodils and the first hyacinths of the season, and I carefully placed them in my favorite corner of my desk.  The office seemed so full of love this evening as I worked my way through a pile of paperwork.  

Every time I inhaled their perfume, I smiled.  

Inhale, smile.  

Inhale.

Smile.

Three Times A Day: Day Ten

~~ Morning ~~

I hold so tightly to these sacred early beginnings to the day.  Time to myself, time for quiet and for exercise, for reflection and for matters of faith.  

~~ Noon ~~

After lunch, as we wind up the homeschooling hours and I transition to my office time, we take our coffee break.  The heathens have always come running when they hear the espresso machine firing its engines.  I make myself a vanilla latte with a double shot of espresso.  The children eagerly line up for their vanilla steamers (steamed, frothed milk with a wee drop of vanilla syrup, hold the coffee).  It is an absurd ritual.  Which descriptive probably sums up why we love it so.

~~ Night ~~

I should not have waited until I was tired and frustrated to plan the menu for the next week.  When time is short is when I most crave nourishing, healthy meals, but when we clearly don't have the margin in our schedule for leisurely time spent in the kitchen.  Balance is elusive.

Three Times A Day: Day Nine

~~ Morning ~~

My well-established morning routine of late has fallen deep into disrepair.  After Princess Hazelnut's middle of the night insistence on lipstick (?) resulted in my lying awake for a few hours, I chose sleeping in over virtuosity.  With only a few minutes to myself before the madness commenced this morning, I poured a cup of coffee, and sat by my favorite window for a few minutes with the book I favor when things seem out of balance and I feel the need to focus my gaze into the center of what my life looks like right now.  Not what it used to look like, or what I wish it looked like, or what I strive for it to look like in the future.  

Right now.  

Today.

~~ Noon ~~

There was no getting around the messiness of the day.  The Boy Wonder ate a bagel and dawdled through his math worksheet while Princess Hazelnut water-colored with nothing more than construction paper, water, and a straw.  I chose to let go these affronts to my sensibilities and focused instead on climbing out from beneath a pile of lesson plans, invitations that needed to be extended, and an email that needed an answer I did not have.  The math was accomplished, the artwork admired, the invitations completed, the email acknowledged.  

Nothing was perfect, everyone was satisfied.

~~ Night ~~

When I said, "Please keep your toys and assorted whatnots off this one little end table in the living room," I did not mean move the smallest pieces 13 inches higher onto the ledge of my reading lamp.  But I am impressed both with the clever circumvention of the rule, and the fact that a new Lego sculpture is hidden here almost every day. 

 Ingenuity of the little boy: 1.   Rules of the mother: 0.

Three Times A Day: Day Eight

~~ Morning ~~

Oh, reality, I hardly know thee.  I suspected today would feel strange, and it did.  I woke up at my usual time, automatically reaching for my exercise clothes, but then I thought better of it.  Better to ease back into Real Life, I thought.  Then I walked into the kitchen and found the shells arranged on the table.  Like a wink from the weekend.  

Oh.  It really did happen.

~~ Noon ~~

At least fifteen times before lunch, we made a break from the humdrum.  Two minutes of math, followed by jumping jacks in the living room.  One page of spelling, then a turn or two in the spinning chair.  I didn't have the heart to tell Princess Hazelnut that the daffodils she proudly brought inside to me were the ones from the front garden.  The ones we do not pick.  She was so happy to show me that she knows the ones with the orange center are Bita's favorite, and that she now knows the white ones are mine.  Methinks my mother may have given the little imp a gardening lesson.  I couldn't help but wonder if they also discussed my propensity for black tulips. 

~~ Night ~~

Sparklers on the front porch.  Because nothing about our day was normal.  Because I learned how to slow my shutter speed down so I could get the cooooolest shots of the light trail.  Because it was Monday and we kind of like the abnormality of our recent days.  Because tomorrow is Fat Tuesday and I'm not making a King Cake.  [Because there were sparklers in the basket of treasures that was put in our hotel room to welcome us to the wedding.  And because of course we brought them home to the kids].