With less than two months until graduation, I’ve focused all my efforts toward completing my undergrad career without jinxing it yet again. To that end, spring break was less about getting out and doing fun things, more about recovery. Fun things were done, however: I capped off my week of relative sloth by inviting myself over to Matt’s parents’ house for Easter.

I brought with me this month’s Daring Bakers assignment, a layer cake from Dorie Greenspan. Our hostess, Morven of Food Art and Random Thoughts, gave us what seems to be an unprecedented amount of freedom. As long as we used the basic recipe for perfect party cake and kept the layers, we could experiment however we liked with the flavorings. Although it’s been two months, my last lemon dessert was fresh enough in my mind that I happily took the option to try something different.

Coffee is one of my favorite dessert flavors, so I decided to adapt the recipe for a coffee-flavored cake (not coffeecake!) with coffee-flavored buttercream instead of lemon. When casting about for an appropriate substitution for the raspberry jam between the layers, I hit upon Nutella, and from there an outer coating of hazelnuts instead of coconut suggested itself naturally.

But even with these adaptations, I knew the cake was going to be a challenge. It may sound simple enough, but the truth is that I hid a shameful secret: I had never made a layer cake before. Oh sure, there’s eight layer cake, but that has more in common with a crêpe cake since the layers are so thin, not even baked in a pan. This “party cake,” as Dorie calls it, required me to slice two thick cake layers horizontally, which I can’t even do evenly to an onion. Then I’d have to stack them up without squishing out the filling and frost the outside to a smooth surface. Not to mention the issue of tilting the cake to press nuts into the sides, which I’d have to do without marring the frosting or dropping the cake on its side.

Did I run from my fears? Did I hide? No! I dared!

The cake batter came together easily enough and, when baked, popped out of my non-springform pans more easily that I would have predicted. I made cuts all around each cake round to mark the halfway point and slid the knife through to connect them, resulting in layers that were of satisfactorily uniform height. I did have a dark moment when putting together my frosting; as Dorie warned might happen, my buttercream curdled into flecks of butter loosely held in coffee-colored liquid. I put my trust in the recipe though, and with some heavy beating, the buttercream become smooth, fluffy, and obedient.

The moment of truth came in the assembly. I spooned the Nutella onto the bottom layer and spread it evenly. I used my handy offset spatula, which I purchased almost a year ago and was excited to try for the first time. For any of you chumps still using knives or the back of a spoon, get thee to a cookery shop and make that eight dollar investment; you won’t regret it. Trying to spread buttercream over the Nutella just smeared them both together. I decided on a new approach and buttercreamed another layer and carefully stuck it frosting side down on the first layer. It was a bit unwieldy, but it worked.

The layers in place and end in sight, I started in on the outside of the cake. Now, reading the recipe, you’ll find that Dorie puts a quarter of the frosting between each layer and one on the surface. Does this ratio sound right to you? It didn’t sound right to me, but I went along with it because I’m the novice. Unfortunately, my instincts were correct, and the remaining buttercream was not nearly enough to frost the outside of the cake properly. My crumb coat ended up being my only coat, and I despaired at the corners of cake I saw poking through. Patting nuts on the cake was an exercise in frustration, but it helped the appearance some. Without enough frosting to smooth the sides evenly, the finished cake looked remarkably like a large mass of chopped hazelnuts.

Sliced, the cake looked better. A lot better. And it tasted pretty good too! True, I didn’t love it as much as Matt claimed to — the cake was a bit dry and not as coffee-ish as I would have liked; if I hadn’t known the frosting was made with butter, I might have guessed some shortening was mixed in — but overall, the coffee and Nutella came through. More than anything, I was proud of having successfully erected my four-layer structure. Daring indeed!

(more…)

Finally, spring break has arrived. As is my wont, I have traveled to Boston. I was excited to celebrate St. Patrick’s day in America’s most Irish city, but it turns out I missed it since it fell on Saturday the fifteenth this year. While I’m told that nobody is taking any notice of this change, it’s still a good thing it’s never a bad time for cake.

Why is this cake so apropos? I’ll give you a hint:

Remind you of any beers? I made this chocolate Guinness cake, from Feast, for Matt’s belated birthday. I couldn’t resist the visual pun, but I’m not a huge fan of stout in general or Guinness in particular. Nigella Lawson has you melt butter into the simmering alcohol, then add sugar and cocoa, by which time I don’t much care what kind of beer it is. The frosting is similarly effortless: just your basic cream cheese concoction, with a little heavy cream to lighten it.

It wasn’t my first Guinness cake — I made one from The Last Course several years ago — but it’s definitely the most memorable one. The Guinness gives the cake a slightly bitter depth, sort of a nutty, dark coda to the symphony of chocolate. The flavor is packed into a delicate crumb that matches well with the light tang of the cream cheese. As Nigella says, it is a damp cake, so much so that I was afraid it would turn out raw when I took it out of the oven. This is a good thing, though, since it kept this moistness for almost a week, which was the longest Matt and I were able to go without finishing it.

If you’re not too far gone on Bailey’s and green beer, you may want to apportion some of your booze toward a tasty Gaelic cake you won’t regret. And if tonight’s a lost cause, know that it’s a good idea any time.

(more…)

It’s not really much of a recipe, but maybe you want to throw together some quartered grape tomatoes with a little olive oil and rosemary, sauté some cubes of salmon into that, fold in some bucatini, and top the whole thing with some breadcrumbs. I wouldn’t mind, and neither, I think, would you.