I would love to

Dear Reader, my drama with that chocolate cake (remember?) is over.

As a foreword, let me tell you that I made the cake ten times within the past fourteen days, which means the cake was seen in my kitchen almost daily for the last couple of weeks. I would love to explain the cake’s frequent appearance by its exceptional taste, so exceptional that each time the sweet thing was gone sooner than I could bring it to the table. Oh how much I would love to say that all that is true. But brother, it’s not! This cake, it was unruly. It drove me crazy. It exhausted my patience. I’m not exactly happy to relay all this, but nine times out of ten I flipped it the finger and furiously sent it into a trash bin. Why I kept making the stuff was that I can be stubborn -- if I want to. And I love chocolate cake. Plus, I believed a Moosewood restaurant cookbook that said that this six-minute chocolate cake is “an economical, low cholesterol, delicious dark cake that goes into the oven in 6 minutes with no mixing bowl to clean, because the batter is mixed directly in the baking pan”. I want to think that somebody somewhere did as the recipe has them to -- and loved the results. Me, I only made my trash bin full.

The only thing that I can agree with is that the cake is “low in cholesterol”. True -- no eggs, no butter, just vegetable oil. I would think twice before nodding in agreement about the creation being “economical”, as the recipe advertises. Good-quality cocoa powder (you need it for the batter) is not entirely inexpensive, right? The same goes for chocolate (you need it for the glazing). So calling the cake “economical” is not fully accurate, I noticed. As to the deliciousness of the cake, well, the past few weeks I spent nearly all my free time looking for it, that deliciousness. I found it not.

Like I mentioned, the recipe comes from a book by the Moosewood restaurant collective Moosewood restaurant cooks at home whose primarily focus lays on the food that’s fast and easy to make, and above all, the food that’s natural (Moosewood restaurant is a natural foods eating establishment).

(I borrowed the book from my baker boss Issa Niemeijer who is a vegetarian. When it came time for me to return it and I hadn’t yet copied said chocolate cake recipe, I hastily made a picture of it. I couldn’t wait to make this cake.)

I feel I should say now that I made it a point not to deviate from the original recipe too much. The cake was intended to be simple and quick. Its main ingredient is unsweetened cocoa powder, no chocolate in the batter. An innocent observer could now notice that I could have used chocolate ganache or chocolate chips in addition to the cocoa powder to try to make the cake close to being heart-rate accelerating, but I chose not to. If I did, it would not be that “economical, low cholesterol, delicious dark cake” any more, was my reasoning. I didn’t want to complicate anything about the stuff. I just hoped it’d be delicious. Alas, it never tasted as much to me. Reader, I don’t want to come off as a Negative Nancy around here, what with all the complaining and everything. The cake wasn’t bad. But it didn’t cut it for me, either.

As I said, I didn’t inject the cake with the ganache and whatnot. Yet, in my desperation, I kept adding things to it -- such as lemon syrup which I’d spoon over the cake before covering it with chocolate glaze -- trying to make the cake flavorful and interesting, attempting to create a bomb of flavor out of it. But now as I think of it I can see I kept forcing this cake to be what it’s not. In a few brushstrokes, it’s an easy cocoa-based cake whose attraction may be hidden deep down its nude simplicity. On its own, cocoa can never be as rich in flavor as chocolate, but I didn’t want to see it then. I had my grand expectations which would never match what this cake is all about: decency. Instead of accepting it, I was getting continuously upset: it’s not what I want it to be, it’s not what I want it to be, it’s not what I want it to be. Finally, I figured it’s better if I stop looking for something that’s not there. I’m not going to make this cake anymore.

Yet, I’ll post the recipe. Maybe somebody will get to make it, and will love it, and will tell me that I am crazy to “dis-love” it.

Six-Minute Chocolate Cake
Adapted from Moosewood restaurant cooks at home by Moosewood collective

Despite it being said in the book that the cake batter “can be mixed directly in the baking pan”, I’d recommend you don’t do that. It’s not entirely convenient to try to mix the batter in a square cake form; a good amount of flour can be left unincorporated in the corners of such pan. Of course if you are using a round baking pan, that’s not a problem anymore. Yet, it’s better to first mix the wet ingredients together in a separate bowl, this way you will not over-mix the batter adding wet ingredients one by one. For those reasons, it’s better to use two separate bowls – one for dry and another for wet mix. Which, I agree, is at odds with the original idea for the cake preparation to be only six-minutes long. Still, a few more bowls notwithstanding, it’s fast to whip up.

Dry mix
1 ½ cup unbleached all-purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt

Wet mix
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup light brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
½ cup non-fragrant vegetable oil

Bittersweet chocolate glaze
½ pound (250 grams) good-quality bittersweet chocolate
¾ cup warm milk

Preheat the oven to 165 C (365 F). Butter a 8-inch square or 9-inch round cake form.

In a medium bowl, sift together the flour and salt; mix well. Continue sifting in the baking powder and cocoa powder. Mix again.

In another medium bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, sugar, and vanilla extract. Whisk in the oil. With a spatula, stir the wet mix into the dry mix just until incorporated.

Pour in the prepared cake form and bake for 40-50 mins, or until a toothpick inserted in the center of a cake comes out clean. Let cool for 15 mins. Take out from the cake form and put on a wire rack.

While the cake is cooling down, prepare the chocolate glaze. Melt the chocolate in a heatproof bowl set over a pan with boiling water. Once the chocolate is melted, stir in the warm milk. Spoon the glaze over the cooled cake. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving (as you can see from the photo, I didn’t wait that long.)

It's way better

I talked about this six-minute chocolate cake last time, or more accurately, I briefly mentioned how I successfully burnt it (the thing is called six-minute chocolate cake, because as the recipe says, it takes just as much for the cake batter to be prepared).

Today I made said cake again, this time having avoided any calamities, and I don’t quite know what to think of the stuff. This cake, it tasted funny. Weird, even. Anthony even thinks “it’s not pleasant to chew on”. Isn’t it plain awkward? I feel some serious recipe tweaking must be done. I want this cake to be fine.

That means no cake today. Again. But I didn’t come empty-handed either. I brought you some summer roasted vegetables. It’s not exactly an alternative to chocolate cake, I realize that, but I figured you would agree it’s way better to have seriously enjoyable roasted vegetables than “unpleasant to chew on” chocolate cake on your plate. Ideally, both should be fine, I hear you, but sometimes, when I’m in my own kitchen, tired, I’m just capable of doing one right thing at a time. But please, don’t let me digress; it’s important that I tell you about this roasted vegetables business.

I’m confident you’ll like it. Anthony did, and although he strongly disagrees, he is one fussy eater: “I am not really a fan of spelt flour”, was his response to my making carrot muffins with spelt flour three times in a row; or “I want things to have taste”, was a reaction I got after I’d served lentils cooked in vegetable stock -- how’s that for flavor? -- for dinner.

Funny, but initially I made these roasted vegetables for myself. I thought I would have a dinner alone the other day, so I dived into What we eat when we eat alone and found the recipe there. Even not a recipe, an idea, really. You take your favorite summer vegetables, say, eggplant, zucchini, young potatoes, young carrots, beets, if that’s what you're into, and bell peppers; toss in some aromatics such as onion and garlic; season the lot, and send it in the oven for less than thirty minutes. It is recommended that you also use a handful or two of cherry tomatoes; they’ll release their juices and get caramelized and bind together whatever vegetable material you use.

The result is rewarding, only when I made the thing I didn’t get to eat it alone. In fact, I didn’t get to eat it at all (just a few bites). Anthony wolfed down my roasted vegetables -- faster than I could take any actions, such as grabbing a fork, pushing him aside, and eating everything myself. Which made me roast another batch, and a batch more after that: “I could eat it every day and not get bored of it, the stuff is so flavorful!”. Fine, I got it.

Summer roasted vegetables

Adapted from What We Eat When We Eat Alone by Deborah Madison and Patrick McFarlin

Like I said, there is barely a recipe. The amounts, as well as types, of vegetables are certainly not written in stone, just make sure to use seasonal produce. I also found that finely chopped green celery leaves, in addition to you fresh herbs of choice or just on its own, deepens the collective flavor of the roasted vegetables even more. It’s like a belt to a cascading evening gown: with it, the dress, or rather a woman in it, looks even finer. Ah yes, and don’t be a scrooge with salt; it helps to open up the vegetable flavor.

1 medium eggplant, cut into cubes
2 large carrots, peeled and sliced into ¼-inch rounds
½ head garlic, cloves separated and peeled
1 bell pepper, cut into strips or cubed
1 large yellow onion, peeled, cut into wedges with the root ends attached
1 handful of cherry tomatoes, stems removed
olive oil
salt/pepper
chopped fresh herbs (one or a combination of a few) such as rosemary, oregano, parsley, thyme, chives or/and chopped green celery leaves

1. Lightly salt the eggplant and let sit in a colander to drain. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees C (400 degrees F). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. While the oven is warming up, wash and cut the rest of the vegetables. Put them in a bowl.

3. When the oven is ready, rinse the eggplant and roughly dry it off with a paper towel. Add the eggplant to the other vegetables. Add enough olive oil to moisten; season with salt and freshly ground pepper. (You can also add a pinch each of dried oregano and/or thyme, if desired.)

4. Spread the vegetables out onto a prepared baking sheet, making sure to give the vegetables enough space so that they don’t crowd each other. Put in the center of the oven and roast for 25 minutes, or until the vegetables take on color in places and become tender. Turn them a few times while cooking. Remove and let cool a little bit.

5. Transfer into a small bowl (or a food container); add fresh herbs and a splash of olive oil; mix. Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed. Equally delicious warm or at room temperature.

Yield: 1 big meal for one, 2 light meals for two, or 4 side-dish servings

This is how it works

This is how it works: as a student, here is a student accommodation for you. Finished your studies? Congratulations! Now go and find another place to live then, oh yes, and good luck!

In other words, my two-year rental agreement for a shared student apartment expired last week, by which time I had to find myself a new home in Amsterdam. And so July 15th was moving day for me. Actually, that’s not true, because it was moving day for me – and Anthony.

I think it’s now an appropriate moment to mention that Anthony and I, well, we are buddies. I mean, we are together. Our story, it didn’t begin with fireworks. We both agree that the day we met was not exactly a memorable experience, except that we had quite a spectacular cloud-like sardine mousse on rye bread as a starter at dinner in a restaurant where we went. Later, we started hanging out regularly enough for me to make Anthony feel sick at the sight of toasted buckwheat grains (when I get to know somebody unfamiliar with Russian cuisine, I stuff them with buckwheat porridge a fair amount!). We became close friends. And I wanted to keep it that way, no relationship drama for me, thank you. And so it was -- until I went to Russia for a month. It’s probably a cliché to say, but distance does help to filter through the mental trash and see what’s important. It appeared to me then that I want to stick by Anthony’s side. Now I tell him every night to unplug all the electrical devices before going to bed because I believe that the electricity field all those gadgets create messes up with my sleep and he tells me to go and see a psychiatrist because I seem to have a plugged-in device phobia. I let him know he is an idiot; he informs me about my being stupid. We are buddies.

So we moved in to a new place. It’s small, but it has an oven, a Jacuzzi bath, and a DVD-player. And a tailless cat, Flash. We can stay here until the owner has come back from her travels, which will be sometime in late fall. And what’s also great is that I’m now only ten-minute bike ride from the bakery, as opposed to an hour one before. There is a café below us, and a spacious attic up a few stairs where the cat can chill out when she is stressed.

Today I was going to not only tell you all that. I was also going to make a six-minute chocolate cake for you, to give us all a treat. Unfortunately, that didn’t go as planned.

I, a baker’s apprentice, kept the cake in the oven for too long which gave it a taste of, in Anthony’s words, “burnt toast with chocolate flavor”. And if that wasn’t upsetting enough, I accidentally knocked the stuff off the kitchen counter. Golly gee whiz and a bucket of hog wash!

I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.