10 minute, one-bowl dark chocolate cake (with secret ingredient)

 

 

Yet another quick, one-bowl cake recipe? Yes, because you can never have enough, especially when they involve lots of dark chocolate.

But if you have had enough, you will forgive me the next time you have guests coming over and you have to make a last-minute dessert, trust me. This is a trick to have up your sleeve.

The only minor catch is that you need a very specific ingredient to make this cake, so be sure to stock up on it when you come across it (as it might not be as easy to get a hold of where you are and it does keep for a very long time).

I am talking of chestnut jam, or spread or sweetened puree. It comes under many labels, and there seem to be a variety of preparation methods (some follow a basic jam making technique, others use boiled chestnuts mixed with boiled egg yolks and sugar, some simply puree marrons glaces), but I believe whatever kind you have available should work fine in this cake (as long as you do not buy the unsweetened paste).

 

Crema di marroni or marmellata/confettura di castagne is quite common in northern Italy, an area that abounds in chestnut tree forsets. I know it is also a well-beloved spread in France, so you should be able to find it in specialty stores without too much of a problem.

The story of this cake began when, my daughter came home from school one day and exclaimed: "G had the best sandwich today. There was a brown spread in it, but I don't remember what it was called, and it was soooo good!". I enquired when I bumped into G's mother the next day and it turns out it was chestnut jam. After a few weeks of pestering,  I gave in and bought a jar. That Sunday, a happy girl sat at the breakfast table, spreading her chestnut jam on a slice of bread. 

Just that Sunday, I must add.

Week end after week end I put the chestnut spread on the table along with our assortment of  jams and honeys, and week end after week end I kept putting it back into the fridge.

When I opened it last Saturday, there was still that one, lonely dent made by her knife over a month ago. And a tiny little spot of white fuzz in a corner.

I gave my daughter 'the speech', how we do not waste food in our household, that if you buy something it has to be used up, etc. I scooped out the tiny fleck of fuzz and decided to prove my point.

I remembered a recipe a running companion told me about a few weeks prior (yes, we burn calories and talk about cake). I googled it and came up with a few options. I chose the one with less chestnut jam and more dark chocolate, purely for convenience as the brand we had bought came in a smaller jar. That evening, with guest coming at 7:30, I set off to bake my cake at 7:20. At 7:30 it was in the oven and it was baked at 8:10. By the end of dinner it had cooled, I sprinkled over some powdered sugar and served it.

Lesson taught to children - check

No waste - check

Great new recipe - check

All in all, a good result if you ask me.

The cake in itself is pretty grown up*: it is dense, not overly sweet and tastes like the chocolate you used, so choose well. It has a moist, yet chalky texture - excuse the oxymoron, but it is a very difficult texture to describe.

It is not a grand cake, although it is discreetly elegant if you ask me (and you could make it grand by serving it with chestnut jam flavored, rum-infused whipped cream).

My husband, who wrinkled his nose at the idea of chestnut spread in cake batter and went on to declare he wouldn't have any, managed three slices in a row.

Recipe from Il Cuore Arrosto

Ingredients

400gr chestnut jam

100gr butter

150gr best quality dark chocolate

3 eggs

2 tbsp flour

a drizzle of rum (optional)

powdered sugar

Preheat your oven to 180°C/375°F.

In a saucepan, melt the chocolate and butter on a low flame, mixing every now and then.

In a bowl, scoop out the chestnut puree and then add the butter-chocolate mixture and mix well. This should cool off the mixture, but check that it is not too hot before you beat in the eggs one at a time. Drizzle in a little rum and the two sifted tablespoons of flour.

Pour the mixture into a greased and lightly flour-dusted springform pan and bake for about 40 minutes.

Let cool, unmold and decorate with icing sugar.

 

*Nonetheless, my kids scoffed most of it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Moist, dense banana-date bread (no sugar, butter or white carbs and a hidden ingredient)

There is no denying that I am super excited about this recipe: a totally delicious dessert/breakfast loaf that is made without white carbs, sugar and butter but is full of hidden antioxidants and vitamins.

Plus, I did not have to buy one. single. ingredient. to bake this, I used up a ton of odds and ends I had lying around and the result was loved by all. How satisfying is that?

That bunch of shrivelled up, utterly dried-out medjoul dates that I just didn't have the heart to throw away (but that nobody had been eating anymore for a couple of months)?
In!

The expensive bag of goji berries I bought out of the sheer excitement of coming across them in a store a few years ago, after reading about them for months? The ones I never really know what to do with (except for mixing them into granola and yogurt) and that, to be truthful, none of us even like?
In (but hidden)! And just 10 days before their expiry date!

That almost empty bottle of coconut oil that I've had for months and never used until I overused it in a made-up cookie recipe in an attempt to feel less guilty about buying yet another ingredient that would collect dust on a shelf? A recipe that turned out so bad, that I never felt a twinge of guilt again upon seeing the bottle?
In!

Finally made a dent in my spelt flour stash, you would think I was a spelt hoarder.
In!

Luckily whisky ages well, because I don't even remember where that bottle of whisky we have came from...
In!

And let us not forget the bags and bags of chocolate chips I keep buying whenever I go to the States because I-just-can't-get-that-flavor-dash-size-dash-quality-dash-brand-here that takes up way too much fridge space (yup, that is how long they hang around) but that I never use in an attempt to make my kids reasonably healthy snacks.
In!

The result: a whopping banana bread that was dark, dense and incredibly moist. That was so good it was hard to believe there was no sugar (minus the choc chips - that are totally optional), white flour or butter in it. Also, there was no trace of the goji berries, which you already know is a good thing in my book, except for their presumable health benefits (but who knows at this point?). What unfortunately also got lost in the mix were the chocolate chips (except the ones you see on top), so definitely not worth the hidden calories/fat/sugar if you ask me. The dates and bananas totally did their magic without any extra help needed, and I can see myself pairing them over and over again in the future.

So in the same week, another cake you can bake and eat too... without the guilt!

Ingredients
8-9 oz. pitted dates
water as needed
whisky as needed
2 cups spelt/farro flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
4 tbsp coconut oil
1 cup goji berries
3 ripe bananas (frozen or fresh)
2 eggs
1 tbsp vanilla extract
(3/4 cup white chocolate chips)

Pit the dates and put them in a small bowl. Heat a mix of water and whisky (or pure whisky if you like) until just simmering and pour over the dates so that they are covered. Set aside and let soak for at least 15 minutes.

In a bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

Preheat your oven to 175°C/350°F and grease a loaf pan.

When the dates have softened up, blend them in a food processor with as much of the liquid as you need to obtain a smooth, loose (but not too loose) paste (I ended up using all of it). Then add the goji berries, if using, and blend some more. The paste will turn a beautiful shade of reddish brown. Add the coconut oil and then blend in the bananas until just smooth.

Beat the eggs into this mixture one by one, then add in the vanilla extract.

Fold the wet mixture into the dry mixture, then mix in the chips (if using) until just combined. Pour into the pan. Bake for about 60 minutes, possibly a little longer. Insert a toothpick or a strand of raw spaghetti into the middle: remove from oven when it comes out clean.

Let cool before removing from pan.

Orange, carrot and almond cake (no flour, butter or oil!)

This post has been a long time coming. There was a quick family trip to the subpolar temperatures in NY (although there was plenty of sunshine and love to warm our hearts while there). Then came jet lag, work overload and, to be honest, also a reasonable degree of laziness.

Until a few days ago, when I finally decided to bake a cake that had piqued my curiosity a while ago when it kept turning up in one version or another on some favorite blogs, to finally see it pop up again here a few weeks ago.

 

 

 

 

Of course what originally caught my attention was the concept of boiling a whole citrus fruit and then blending it, skin and all, to become the base of the batter. Now I was further intrigued by the idea of baking with no flour/carbs. And of course, the leitmotif of this blog of mine, the idea of a one-bowl, five-ingredient cake (well six, because I threw in a large, knobbly carrot too at the last minute) appeals to me even more.

 

So we have oranges, carrots, almond meal, sugar (mostly refined), eggs and baking soda. No flour, no butter, no oil. Lactose and gluten free.

I tweeked the last recipe I linked back to by using mostly unrefined sugar (unfortunately I ran out while baking this or I would have used only unrefined sugar). I also added that carrot I mentioned above because my orange didn't weigh in at 350gr. Plus, hooray for the extra nutrients and vitamins, right?

 

 

What I pulled out of the oven was Bundt cake with a very grown up, heady aroma of Christmas Eve and Mediterranean nights and a pudding/flan-like consistency. Don't get me wrong, it has some crumb, but it is moist and dense at the same time, making it hard to decide whether to eat it with a fork or a spoon.

I liked it and was perfectly satisfied with the result, although I admit it wasn't love at first bite, and the kids were all "meh" about it (then again I never would have eaten anything even reminiscent of orange zest as a child).

But then it started working its magic. My husband and I just kept going back to it again and again, peeling back the aluminum foil, cutting off sliver after sliver of it (the round serving in the photos is purely for blogging purposes, the whole cake and slices just didn't photograph well).  Then, on the third day, even my daughter (who does not budge once she has made up her mind about not liking something) asked for another slice, quickly followed by another. Something about the lovely citrus fragrance, the nuttiness, and the texture of the almonds and grated carrot just becomes addictive.

 

 

 

Ingredients

1 large or two small oranges (about 325gr)

1 carrot, grated

6 eggs

250gr almond meal/flour

250gr sugar (preferably unrefined - I used a mix)

1 heaping tsp baking powder

a pinch of salt (optional)

butter and flour for tin

A few hours before baking the cake, bring a pot of water to a boil and slowly simmer the orange(s) for about an hour, or until it goes completely soft and you can easily pierce itwith a fork. Drain and let cool.

Blend 250gr of peeled almonds until you until reduced to flour, our buy it pre-packaged.
 

Grate the carrot, preheat the oven to 190°C and thoroughly grease a baking tin (I used a bund pan but any kind works -however, keep in mind that a loose base will make it much easier to extract it) with butter. Coat with flour and set aside. 

When the orange(s) has cooled off, cut into quarters and get rid of any seeds. Then reduce the citrus to a pulp by blending it in a food processor, blender or with an immersion blender.

In a large mixing bowl, beat the eggs. Then, beating after every addition, mix in the orange pulp, carrot, sugar, almond meal and the baking powder (and salt, if using).

When your batter is ready, pour into the tin and bake in the oven for up to an hour. After about 45 minutes check it by inserting a toothpick, if it comes out clean it will be ready. Otherwise, cover it with some aluminum foil so it doesn't get too dark, and bake a little longer.

Let cool and unmold.

Chocolate layered Kit Kat and M&M birthday cake

After these holidays my brain feels like it has been given a hard reset: blank. Totally devoid of any important or useful information to function. Empty.

When I was preparing my daughter's schoolbag the other night I couldn't remember what books to put in for Wednesday and whether she needed to wear a gym suit to school or not.

This feeling of vagueness continued as I prepared for the office and kept trying to remember what days I was supposed to meet with what people and on a more practical note, what I had to put in my bag for my dark, winter morning bike ride and day in the office (gloves, ear warmer, helmet.... uhm... bike light... something missing ... ah, my badge...).

But the worst was yesterday morning, when I realized on my way to work that I wasn't sure I remembered the code to get into the front gate (luckily it was broken and open) or my last password on my computer (lucky again, it had expired and the system asked me to put in a new one).

All this got me thinking. Is this what getting old feels like? Or does it mean that I truly managed to get away from it all during this break? I like to think it was the latter of course.

It was a good holiday, if not really relaxing, filled with breathtaking mountain scapes, fresh air and mountain sports (but not snow). I experienced skiing with both my kids together for the first time and it was a moment (truly a moment) of pure bliss that made all those years of ski school torture worthwhile.

Because you ski-school parents know what I mean, right?

Plum galette with ginger ricotta filling

 

 

Plums may have been one of the first fruits to be domesticated by humans. Remains have been found dating from the Neolithic age. They were mentioned in writing by Confucius (also, in Chinese mythology, plums are associated with age and wisdom), the Greeks and the Romans.

 

They are the most cultivated fruit in the world after apples and they come in many colors, sizes and shapes. Plums are used in both sweet and savory preparations. They can be dried, pickled and are used to make alcoholic beverages in several countries.

 

Blah, blah, blah...

 

I know. You didn't come here for this. I mean, these facts may have been interesting and even amusing (in a nerdy-foodie kinda way), but this? This is just boring. Stuff you already know, and if you don't, maybe it is because you don't particularly care to know it.

Am I right?

 

I did want to tell you something... it's just that...

 

...

 

... my mind is a total blank...

 

For the life of me, I cannot come up with one single amusing or entertaining thing to write today.

 

 

 

 

 

But I have a dessert for you that I am just dying to share. I want to tell you about it even if I don't have a cutesy preamble for you. After all, this is a food blog, is it not?

 

So I am going to cut right to the chase and give you the recipe for a delightful, very seasonal, rustic yet elegant galette to make with your overabundance of plums.

 

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.



 

 

The Healthy-Enough-For-Breakfast Cake

 

 

While white smoke was billowing from the Vatican on Wednesday evening announcing the newly-elected pope to the world, I was in my kitchen dusting white clouds of powdered sugar onto this lovely little creation of mine.

 

Ok, so that isn't entirely true.
I baked the cake on Tuesday, not Wednesday, and quickly sprinkled on some sugar for styling reasons before it had truly cooled down just so I could snap a few pictures before it got dark. So excuse my use of artistic license... a blogger's gotta do what a blogger's gotta do, right? ;o)

 

 

What you don't need, however, is an excuse to have cake for breakfast anymore (not that that has ever been an issue here in Italy).

 

There is no butter, no sugar (except that little sprinkling added for styling purposes) and no highly processed flour in this cake. Yet it does not taste like cardboard. I promised you a long time ago I would never publish healthy yet unappetizing excuses for a dessert. And I never have, although I have made my share over the years. So trust me on this one, 'kay?

 

This cake is moist (really, really moist) and packed with nutritious ingredients: honey (antioxidants, antibacterials), olive oil (antioxidants and vitamin E), carrots (beta carotene, vitamin E), coconut (vitamin C, fiber), Greek yogurt (calcium, acidophilus), oat flour (vitamin B, iron, calcium), wholewheat flour (fiber, folates, vitamin B).

 

 

See how moist it is?

You can use grated zucchini instead of carrots, substitute some of the yogurt, olive oil or even honey with apple sauce... well, you get the gist. Just make it! We have been eating it all week and it is as moist and satisfying as the first day.

Wishing you all a lovely week end. I know I am looking forward to mine!

Ingredients

3/4 cup wholewheat flour
3/4 cup oat flour
2 heaping tsp baking powder
pinch of salt
3/4 cup honey
1 1/4 cup finely grated carrots
1/2 cup unsweetened dried coconut
1- 1 1/4 cup Greek yogurt
3 eggs
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 cup good quality extra virgin olive oil

Preheat oven to 350°F/175°C and grease a traditional round layer cake pan or a springform tube pan (I used the latter). Whisk together flours, baking powder and salt in a bowl. Beat the eggs, mix in the yogurt, eggs, honey, finely grated carrots (I used a food processor), coconut, oil and vanilla. Then mix in the dry ingredients. Pour into the pan and bake for 40-45 minutes (or until a toothpick inserted in the cake comes out clean). Let cake cool on rack for a few minutes and then ummold. When the cake has completely cooled down you can sprinkle it with powdered sugar, or not if you want to stick to the healthy -enough-for-breakfast rule.

 

 

 

 

 

Chocolate ov(om)altine buttercream frosting

 

 

My daughter celebrated her birthday with her friends almost a month early this year.

 

Not because she happens to be born on the day of the Mayan prophecy (although, hey, we might as well party while we can just in case they were right!).

 

She and a friend decided a year ago they wanted to celebrate together this year. It so went, that once we got our act together, the only week end available between their two birthdays (which are a month apart) was last Sunday, and this thanks to a last minute cancellation (note to self: work harder on becoming a psycho mom and book the next party a year ahead).

 

It was rushed and a little earlier than I had planned but it meant I was keeping the promise I made to myself when my daughter was born, that her birthday and Christmas would always be two completely separate affairs and that I would never make her feel like she missed out. I will not pretend this promise hasn't made Christmas a tad more stressful than it already is for most parents; the question why we decided to abolish contraception that April of many years ago instead of the following month may or may not, in my worst moments, have crossed my mind.  

 

Juggling Christmas cards, school vacation, shopping craziness, tree decorating, Advent, St. Nicholas, Christmas parties and recitals x2 and birthday cakes, presents and party paraphernalia is enough to make the sanest person go out of their mind. So to be honest, why not do it a month early?

 

 

I do not believe in huge, fancy affairs for kids' parties. Having one in our apartment is out of the question, but we still try to keep it simple. We usually rent out a large, not necessarily pretty, but affrodable space and bring our own food and decoration. Family, family friends, parents, older and younger siblings are all welcome. We hire a person to entertain the kids for a few hours but that is where it usually ends. It is a however a loud, crowded, sweaty, crazy affair and takes a lot of time to organize and to recover from.

 

Nonetheless, before the party this year I was doubtful; it was an organized affair with pretty strict times. It was interesting (Museum of Natural History) and reasonable in price (especially sharing costs) and well-structured, but we were only alloted 1/2 hour to serve cake and drinks (no pop corn! no potato chips! no balloons!), could invite max 25 kids, no parents. 

 

So yes, I was doubtful and sorry I couldn't invite family friends and lots of kids. I was sorry us grown ups couldn't mingle while the kids wreaked havoc, drinking bubbly and eating panettone and make a little Christmas party out of it; I was sad we weren't allowed to make a drab, badly sound-proofed room look nicer with lots of tacky pink decoration. But I reminded myself the party wasn't about us grown ups, or about my inner Martha Stewart. It was about my daughter and her school friends (without a ton of children of our friends and baby sisters and brothers tagging along). Still I was a little sorry.

 

Then the day came. We served cake, we poured drinks, we soothed crying children, put cold water on bumps, we broke up piles of little bodies, we smiled at complaints and mopped up sticky messes. I never knew a half hour could last so long. Once that mass of energy moved into the other room to begin the planned activities leaving  destruction, cake crumbs and frosting prints in its wake, I wasn't so sorry after all.  

 

 

 

 

Since all I had to do this year was provide the cake, I decided I would make one. I have not made many layered cakes yet and most of them turned out to be pretty sorry sites (although tasty) because Mr. Frosting and I have seem to have some issues.  In the pictures above, you see what was left after decorating in a hot kitchen so the frosting is looking a little deflated but it was absolutely perfect to decorate with.

 

My daughter asked for chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. I got the recipe over at Joy the Baker and it worked perfectly paired with this cake. There was not a slice left to take home and not much left on the plates at the party either, a success according to the messy, full plates I usually throw out after birthday parties.

 



 

Amor Polenta

Up until the beginning of the Twentieth century, polenta was a staple of northern Italian peasants, to such an extent that the inhabitants of regions like Lombardy, Piedmont and Veneto often suffered from pellagra, a disease caused by the lack of Vitamin B3 in corn. So much so, that polentone (literally polenta eater) became a derogatory term for southern Italians to call their northern counterparts.

Polenta is still a well-loved comfort food and a favored accompaniment, in its unadultered form or studded with lovely melted pockets of cheese, for winter dishes such as slow cooked meats, sausage, stews and mushrooms. In Veneto, white polenta often makes its appearance, creamy or grilled, alongside fish (usually baccalà, dried salted cod).
 

 

 

Funnily enough cornmeal is not a common ingredient in other traditional recipes. Sure, I have seen random cookies, loaves of bread and even pasta for the gluten intolerant, but there is no  Mediterranean version of corn muffins or cheesy corn studded cornbread.

There is however one exception: Amor Polenta, a corn and almond meal-based pound cake that was created in the Lombard city of Varese and that is as a consequence also known by the name of Dolce di Varese. It is a simple cake (and very quick to mix up), to be enjoyed with a cup of afternoon tea, for merenda (the mid-afternoon snack of all Italian children), for breakfast or as an unpretentious dessert. It tastes like home. Yet, despite its modesty, the cornmeal adds a delicate crackle when you bite into it and the hint of rum is warming and unexpected.

 

It is normally made in a traditional rounded and ridged loaf pan but I don't make it often enough to justify buying one. I am not excited by the obvious alternative, a loaf pan, because I feel this utterly simple cake deserves a little extra decoration, so I use my kugelhopf tin filled halfway. Ingredients are in grams but you can use the converter link at the top of the blog.

Nectarine streusel cake

 

 

Growing up in a multicultural family was not always easy. I spent a lot of my life feeling like the odd-one-out wherever I was, like I never fit in anywhere 100%.

 

I was always a little different, the American when in school, the Italian when going back home for vacation. I had German speaking nannies in the States, English speaking nannies in Italy.

 

 

Then again, being a mix of sorts had its perks.

 

I got to travel a lot to see family.

 

I learned early on that different is good, interesting, enriching.

 

It also meant learning many lanuguages.  

 

 

My first words in New York were German. When the English was starting to sink in we moved to Paris for a year and my brain got rewired. I wouldn't really say I speak French, but I certainly have a knack for it. Then we moved back and when I finally learned to read and write in English, we moved to Italy, where I started over again in a new language. I even picked up Venetian on the way and a few words of Swedish and Spanish.

 

 

 

When we were kids, my sister and I had fun listening in on tourists' conversations, we always had a secret language to gossip in wherever we were and we got to daydream (more than we usually did) during English and German class in school. 

 

I could read books and watch movies in a variety of languages and making friends on vacation was easy once I got over my initial painstaking shyness towards my peers.

 

I never, however, was shy around adults and it entertained them to no end to hear me readily switch from one language to another without a moment's hesitation.

 

 

 

Languages are key for who I am and what I do today.

 

Last, but not least, languages are useful if you spend a lot of time ogling recipes. If my mother wasn't German, I probably would not have been able to make this recipe and translate it for you. Which is a very good thing, believe me. Once you have tasted how the silky fruit makes the baked batter go all custardy in its proximity, becoming the perfect contrast to the crumbly, crystallized buttery topping, you will understand how right I am.

 

 

 

 

Buttery Greek Ravani with coconut and orange syrup

Friday is always the best day of the week, the whole week end stretching ahead of us with plenty of time to spend with family and friends, doing stuff you have been impatient to tackle all week long. No pre-dawn alarms going off, long leisurely breakfasts and cozy winter afternoons to spend at home reading, baking or watching the game.

Some Fridays, however, are better than others.

This is one of those: I cannot start telling you how excited I am to get this work week over with. It was pretty crappy, let me tell you, with part of our team calling in sick, tons of work and... the dreaded call from daycare on Tuesday to inform me that my son had a fever. I will spare you the long version of how my other colleague got the same call and how we struggled all week with the workload and organizing several babysitter so their schedules would fit perfectly, allowing us to stay in front of our computers to face the emergency.

To top it all off, it snowed. Don’t get me wrong, I love snow and get as excited as my kids when I see the first flakes. But trading in my bike for public transportation before dawn and trying to coordinate the arrival and departure of the aforementioned army of babysitters in the middle of a minor snow storm for several days in a row just made the week that much more stressful.

But now it is late afternoon and my week end is starting. I am savoring this moment, every minute of this Friday night.

I am looking forward to a relaxed evening with my husband and kids. No constant eyeing the clock, rushing dinner so the little ones get to bed on time. We’ll leave that to a school night, thank you very much. Maybe Mommy and Daddy will have a glass (or two) of wine and will listen to them chat away about their week and it won’t matter if it takes twenty minutes longer to finish those vegetables they always relegate to the side of their plate.

After dinner they will climb into Mommy and Daddy’s bed to all read a book together (even a long one tonight, who cares?) and then they will be allowed to fall asleep there, a special weekend treat. Mommy and Daddy will perhaps enjoy a movie and nibble on something sweet and then they will carry their babies into their room and tuck them in for the night.

I know I can get nice and cozy under my duvet and read until my eyes lids start drooping because I don’t have to worry about being at my desk at 7:00 the next morning. There is nothing better than that luxurious feeling of having all the time in the world (or until you can stay awake) to do something you love.

You want to hear about something else that is truly luxurious? A syrup soaked cake. The most dense yet fluffy, moist cake you have ever tasted, a Greek siropiasta (which literally means soaked in syrup) dessert called ravani. The recipe comes from Magda and I knew it would be special because I already made her saragli a while back and they were outstanding. I am usually more inclined towards chocolate and ice cream when I think dessert but as I get older grow up I feel more and more attracted to the sticky, crunchy desserts of the Eastern Mediterranean and the Middle Eastern tradition.

I made this using up things in my pantry (dessicated coconut included!). Besides the coconut perhaps, you will probably have everything you need in the house already. What is not to love?

Magda made some variations to the original recipe and I made some more. I used orange instead of lemon because I wanted a really subtle citrus flavor. The next time I will try the lemon to see how it contrasts with the sweetness. The texture is reminiscent of a Bounty bar but the flavors are delicate so don’t let words like orange, syrup or coconut scare you away if you are more of a brownie or custard kind of person. Trust me, because I am. Make this.

I wish you all a fabulous Friday!

Chocolate and chestnut truffle cake

 

Who would've thought, when I walked into that office more than 15 years ago for an interview, that those rooms would become such a meaningful place in all our lives?

So much happened there, good and bad: that desk is where I got the call from my husband about the first plane crashing into the World Trade Center; I remember calling family and friends before the lines were disconnected, to make sure they were safe. That is where one of us faced the ugly C word, another one of us announced the creation of two lives that were then prematurely lost. But it is also where I planned my wedding and then showed my honeymoon pictures. Where friendships bloomed.

The first person I saw while sitting in the hallway waiting for my interview became my wedding witness and lifelong friend; well, more of a soulmate than a friend if you ask me. We were born and grew up in the same city but our destiny was to meet on another continent. She lives across the Ocean now, but we are as close as if she were still sleeping over on the tiny Ikea couch of the first apartment F and I called home.

One day a Texan at heart walked into those rooms to make and enquiry and never left (the premises or my affection).

The pretty blonde, a real English rose, I sat down and chatted with nervously during that interview is the kind of friend I don't need to see or talk to that often to call her that.

The awesome Tasmanian with the beautiful mane of fiery red hair (to match her creative spirit and the clementines below) and the voice of a black blues singer moved back home recently and took a little piece of all our hearts with her when she did (together with two very precious things she had been waiting for for the longest time, her daughters).

The only true Italian of the gang, a good friend and enthusiastic follower of this little blog, contributed the right touch of Mediterranean character with her contagious laughter and loud chatter to this group of Americans (yes, Canadians included), Brits, Southafricans, Barbadians, Kiwis, Aussies etc. (you name it, we had it) .

 

What did we have in common at the beginning? Not much really, except we all spoke English. And yeah, were were all young(er), funloving and a good looking bunch if you ask me. But that was it. We came from different cultures, backgrounds and educations. We had different interests, friends, aims.

But we clicked.

I think we all realized to what extent when we separated a few years later.

In time, the evenings spent in front of pitchers of margarita (I am still paying for that night) or downing a few too many vodkas (even those who stated to have never gotten drunk - and you know who you are - are still paying for that party), the late night drives down country roads to hidden-away biker hangouts, the Halloween parties and summer barbecues gave way to weddings, baby showers and family brunches.

Most of us have moved away, others will be moving soon, some closer and some farther. But almost two decades later we still get together whenever possible.

Now we are parents, we party a little less and change diapers a little more. We may be scattered all over the world and have a wrinkle or two, but inside we are the same people and when we are together we connect.

This is a cake I made to celebrate the visit of our "Australian connection". It is the kind of cake you make for a festive occasion, a large group of people. It is rich and decadent and a slice is enough to satisfy your longing for chocolate. Well, unless you are my daughter. Yes, the one who doesn't usually eat my desserts, she had two. If she liked it and if the recipe comes from this girl, then you know you have a keeper.