Chocolate Pecan Torte (again)

I made a mistake. I baked something, took pictures of it while standing over the table and getting really really excited to share it with you, only to realize days later when I was getting ready to blog it, that I had already done it in 2012. It's no big deal, besides, it's a delicious idea for Valentine's Day if you're into that sort of thing. If not, it's still a fabulous cake to share with your friends and family, it's full of chocolate and still delicately sweet. My parents loved it, we each had a slice with a scoop of cookies and cream ice cream while watching tv. 

Tweet

Recipe here!

Chocolate Pecan Torte

The best part of being invited to dinner parties is having an excuse to bake something I wouldn't normally make. Some cakes are too extravagant for a house of two and are difficult to share. Loafs, cookies or bars are easier to cut up and give away to friends. But when an occasion comes around and I have the opportunity to make something fancy, I jump to it.  

This chocolate cake from Alice Medrich is sure to please any crowd. It’s a humble looking cake with a collapsed center, and sprinkled with icing sugar, the crackly top looks even more beautiful in its imperfect way. All through dinner, I eyed the cake, counting down the minutes till we could dive into it. In fact, I saved some stomach space so I could have two pieces of cake, a very good skill to develop for dinner parties.

The torte is even better if it’s made in advance, so I’d recommend making it a day before a craving for chocolate strikes. Basically, butter and sugar are creamed together, eggs are added and beaten until you get a thick, frothy mixture to near pudding consistency. Then, ground nuts and flour are stirred in. Before pouring the batter into the pan, remember to lick the spatula just a little, taste testing is crucial and so very delicious. The torte puffs up in the oven and deflates as it cools on the rack. It’s cakey and crumbly, the middle still dense and moist. The toasted pecans lend a nutty, tender crumb, making it hard to resist having a third slice. It makes a beautiful cake for the holidays and the icing sugar makes up for the snow that has yet to arrive here in Toronto.

Tweet

Recipe here!

Alice Medrich's Lemon Tart

As a child, I was a pro when it came to buffet dining. I knew the drill: arm yourself with a large plate, still hot from the plate warmer, scan all buffet tables, taking mental notes of the most enticing items to prioritize your time (Ooh! Beet salad! My favourite! Ooooh! Potato salad with canned corn! MMM roast chicken thighs in barbeque sauce! Halibut with lemon! and DILL!) Buffets are a child’s paradise, a picky eater's dream, no need to be forced to eat whatever laid on your plate and you could control exactly how much to eat.

Naturally, what makes or breaks a buffet is based solely on the dessert table. Some places have only a handful of items to choose from: store-bought cookies, cheap blocks of chocolate and vanilla cake slathered with pink saccharine frosting, and sad pieces of wobbly green jello under ghastly flourescent lighting. Shameful, I know.
 

 
The secret to the best dessert table is offering too many items, so many in fact, you can’t decide. For example, there must be at least five cakes, a layer cake, a fruit-based mousse cake, a flourless chocolate cake, a marble cake, even this cake are all acceptable selections, and keeping them intact is essential, none of that pre-sliced business please. A self-serve ice cream bar always wins my heart, not only because you get to mix and match flavours, but it gives you the culinary freedom to make it even unhealthier by sprinkling in chocolate chips or colored sprinkles, ladling over fudge and caramel sauce, drowning your ice cream in cookie crumbs, honeyed nut clusters, or if you must, maschino cherries.

On the other side of the table, there ought to be a spread of bite-sized sweets: homemade cookies and bars (mmm Nanaimo bars), macarons (if that trend isn’t over yet), madeleines, éclairs and chocolate truffles are all welcome here. When I was younger, one thing I was never able to resist were the mini fruit tarts.

I loved the precariously arranged fruit over a buttery crust and the pastry cream that oozed with each greedy bite. I was careful though, I'd strip each tart naked, picking off each blueberry, raspberry, peach and kiwi slice one by one, licking off the glazed sugar, then scooping out the rich cream with my fingers, leaving me with the best part of all: the crumbly cookie crust. Sometimes eat this slowly, as I liked how delicate they were, but most times I’d swallow them whole before moving on to my next dessert. I told you I was pro.

It ain’t easy making a tart I tell you. I’m an impatient person, I rap my fingers on the table when I’m waiting for my dinner, just the other day, I nearly threw a tandrum waiting for my prescription to be filled, I curse at stupid drivers sometimes (It's not road rage, I just think there are a lot of stupid people driving stupidly). However, preparing the tart crust is a true testament to how patient I am when it comes to desserts. I don’t mind bending over the table, meticulously smoothing out the dough till it looks immaculate. Looks are everything. 

This was already my third attempt at tart-crust-making. When I pulled this tart out of the oven, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It retained its structure, supported the lemon curd (which I’ll get to in a minute), and it smelled heavenly. 

Years ago, I made a lemon tart quite unlike this one for my roommates. It wasn’t the prettiest looking crust, it resembled the Rocky Mountains, jagged and unpredictable, but the filling, oh! It was beautiful. Yellow and plain, it puckered your lips like a sour candy, the texture was like lemon soda. I couldn’t believe how awesome it was. All six wedges of the tart had disappeared in minutes, my guy roommate, happy and full, murmured a marriage proposal, the best compliment any home baker could receive.
 

I can’t promise if this lemon tart can have that same effect on your friends, but I’m certain everyone who digs into this will be pleased. This beauty is from Alice Medrich's book Sinfully Easy and Delicious Desserts and features a rich, sandy butter crust with a thick filling of lemon curd. The curd is a fine balance between sour and sweet, it's fragrant, smooth and contrasts against the crumbly bottom, the kind of thing suitable for any buffet.

Tweet

Recipe here!

Linzer Blitz Torte

I moved to Shanghai when I was eight, it took me a while to adjust to the cultural shock of crazy fast taxis, the thick smog that hung stubbornly above the city’s skyline, and people who stared at me with big, curious eyes like I was a foreign creature that dropped out of the sky. 

My dad had been living in China for a few years and didn’t want to be apart from his family anymore, so my mom and I packed up and left Toronto to settle in Shanghai. On my first night, I cried so hard my eyes swelled up, my nose ran like a waterfall, my lungs hurt from trying to stifle my bawling lest my parents heard their distraught daughter. But I couldn’t help it. I was upset, lonely, terrified, and so confused.

Soon enough however, I grew comfortable living in the busiest, noisiest, and one of the most exciting cities in China. I loved my school, my friends, even the mad taxi drivers became an important characteristic of the city. Since graduating high school in 2005, I’ve kept in touch with a small group of friends, including one friend who lives in here in Toronto and who I like to introduce with: “I’ve known her since grade six!” That’s 16 years, just two years shy of the legal drinking age in Quebec. That’s more than half my life. That’s big.

But what’s even bigger, is her recent good news, news that prompted me to scream in my seat when I received her text message followed by an immediate phone call to wish her and her now fiancé congratulations on their engagement (she was so happy I could hear the smile in her voice). Last year, seven of my friends got engaged, though this time, because of how long I’ve known her, because of our history, because she’s seen me through my worst and my best, it makes it all the more special. She’s loyal, compassionate, a good listener and always knows what to say after you find out that your ex has a new girlfriend. I’m thrilled for her and its news definitely worth smiling about.

Here's something just as exciting, a treat that will make you weak in the knees and dizzy with joy: Linzer Blitz Torte. Ain't that the coolest name? A blend of ground nuts, warm spices, topped with jam and baked till dark brown is sure to make you the most popular girl/boy in the room (pinky swear). The crust is at first crispy, then it becomes chewy from the delicious combination of nuts, flour and butter. The jam on top is an inevitable sticky, gooey mess on your fingers, but it heightens the playfulness of these linzertorte squares and there’s plenty of cinnamon in here, plus ground cloves which adds to the warm charm of these sweets. 

The first time I made these, I moaned--outloud. Then, went on to have a second piece. I usually have good self-control, but these torte squares have an irresistible quality that makes me reaching over for more, and that's saying a lot. I gave away the first batch and had to make these again to devour for myself share with you.

Tweet

Recipe here!

Olive Oil Pound Cake

 
There’s always a mix of anticipation, excitement, and hunger that stirs inside me when I slide cake out of the oven. A puff of hot air hits my face (I always forget to dodge), followed by the magical moment where the cake practically sings “TADA!!” when it’s brought to daylight.

A few times, I’ve baked desserts that I was too disgusted to share. There was an almond citrus cake that looked good on paper, but tasted awful in real life, so awful in fact, it was left untouched on the kitchen counter for a few days till my dad pity-ate a slice everyday for his afternoon tea. I made Earl Grey tea cookies once, carefully selecting a promising recipe, but they ended up looking like cement dog biscuits, a result of my over eagerness in doubling the amount of ground tea leaves to the batter. It was a sad day.

Then there are also happy times when cakes turns out too damn perfect, they looked so good they deserved to be on the front cover of a magazine. Still, watching my friends devour the cakes was the best part of all, how they greedily bit into a piece, leaving a trail of crumbs on the floor, or how they tried to identify all the ingredients in the cake while throwing compliments at me--their mouths still full.

Pound cake definitely falls under the Happy Times category, it has that oomph, that promise to deliver exactly what its name implies: 110% pure richness. This cake is a serious matter, the crumb is undeniably light and airy, yet still carries enough heft to be eaten double-fisted. The golden crust that forms around the cake is my favourite bit, it’s crispy against the teeth, but yields to a dense and moist cake. To sum up: insanely good. 

 

Although I’m a butter purist, olive oil makes for good desserts, its floral flavour is a nice change. This cake is good any time of the day: for breakfast, after lunch when you’re still hungry despite finishing all the contents of your lunchbox, for that time in the afternoon when you’re itching for sugar and even though that chocolate bar sounds really good, nothing else but this cake will curb your sweet tooth. It’s especially satisfying smuggled into a movie theatre because sometimes homemade pound cake is way better than buttered popcorn.

This cake is from Alice Medrich’s latest cookbook, which is sure to be my go-to dessert resource for a while. I made her one-bowl chocolate cake and cocoa brownies with walnuts and brown butter, both were divine and were rewarded rave reviews. I’ve bookmarked other blog-worthy recipes and cannot wait to share them, knowing that they will all be insanely good.

Tweet

Recipe here!