Bernachon Palet d'Or Gateau

It all began quite innocently. I couldn't find my usual Green&Black's cocoa. Williams-Sonoma doesn't carry it any longer, and all I could find was another brand of Unsweetened Natural Alkaline. I will have to send for the Green&Black's, although when I looked online I couldn't find it there either. I don't know if this was just an omen or not.

I was interested in baking the cake by internal temperature. I have read recently that 190' - 205'F is a good range. I thought I would go for 200' and the 35 min. of Rose's recipe. Well, I guess this would have been closer to fine if I had remembered to start the timer. By the time I remembered, it was half-time. I was studying the cake. It was rising, but the sides were already giving evidence of shrinking yet the middle was looking wet. More of this exercise led to my finally taking it's temperature at 149' - uh oh. Very goopy and I have used up a peek. I waited a longer time. Watching. I had already set up the ganache, so that was ready to do, but I am not very multi-tasked and was suffering along with this cake, bemusing why this has to be so difficult for me. I had done everything just as directed, weighing, sifting - then I realized - Along with undermining myself by not starting the timer, I had neglected to use a cake strip. Well, that was part of the problem. Now, by the looks of things and the time elapsed, it was time for a temperature check. I don't want to open that door again, especially since it is looking moist in the center, but the sides are looking dark. So now the temperature is about 180' - I decide to wait to 200'. So I let it stay in and of course it went overtime. Just as the Forum advised it might if not on guard, and I frantically grabbed it out at 225'. It had increased temperature very quickly, just like caramel, and now is dry as a bone and has holes. So much for that. I still could blame it on the cocoa. On the plus side, I had remembered to add a few drops of chocolate essence.

Also, in retrospect, I see that the oven rack was in the middle. When will I learn. It usually just stays in the lower third of the oven but this time it wasn't. So we have three problem areas, and a lousy cake. It had to be the cocoa.

Next the ganache.

Once again, the alternate cocoa. This was easy. I mixed the ingredients and let it sit for the hour; then covered it in its glass bowl, letting it sit for the hours it took for the cake to cool. When I did take the plastic wrap off, there was a layer of glacine looking liquid butter on top. Even though the butter I had added was still holding its shape, I thought it could have been too high in temp. I just stirred gently for a long time to incorporate it, and had no further problem with the ganache.

When the cake was cool. I 'crumb coated it' for drill; refrigerated it for an hour and then frosted it.

I am aware this cake has big problems, but now the exercise at-hand is the glaze. The ganache is on the cake crumb coated refrigerated, then frosted as smooth as I could make it. After a couple of hours of hot knives, I was exhausted and went to bed with it tucked away for the night in the fridge. I laughed as I recalled the days when a few of us close girlfriends would say, "We know each other so well we know all the lumps in our leotards."

Still smiling about my friends' jesting, I realize the case of leotard-glaze revealing frosting-lumps has been daunting for me. As they say, "It's sheen is like the cover of a baby grand piano"- it does look so beautiful on Rose's book cover--- I check and double-check the mis en place. Then I begin. In retrospect, the first thing I think went wrong was that while I was quickly taking a few pictures of it, the glaze quickly reached the first plateau of 190'F even though I was taking it's temperature. Before I grabbed it, it was boiling heavily around the edges and getting thicker - too thick I thought, hastily removing it and straining the glaze into the metal strainer until 122'F. Reprieve.

Now, however, came the downfall of the glaze: - Unfortunately, my eyes had slipped down to the next paragraph in the recipe, and I had now begun to strain the glaze into the 2 cup measure [which was meant to be the step after the stirring in of the gelatin]. About 4 ounces into that task, my eyes suddenly caught sight of the little green bowl full of bloomed gelatin set to the ready. Drat. Now I am panicked, trying to stop the straining, finding another receptacle, and chocolate is oozing. I find another bowl, retrieve most of the chocolate and try to stir the gelatin into it. So, finally as directed in the first place, I strain these ingredients into another bowl stirring it gently - it looks like grits. However, I still cling to the hope that it will dissolve the gelatin since it is very warm. But it doesn't. And I wait to pour it onto the poor rock of a cake, and continue to take its temperature many, many times until it finally falls to just over 80', but it has gotten so thick. I remove the cake from the fridge and begin to pour - lukewarm brown grits fall from the cup, plopping onto the top of the cake. Well, now we know. I take the small offset spatula and begin to push it here and there, hoping to effect some semblance of a flat surface. So, the glaze was ruined by my allowing it to thicken past its 190'F, and by not stirring in the gelatin at that time the temp fell to 122-140', and then re-straining it. I feel it would have been pourable when it reached 80' under normal circumstances, as Rose directs. I refrigerated the cake over night. In the morning, I then applied a hair-dryer to it - partly to obtain shine, and partly in the desperate hope that maybe one gelatin grain would disappear. The leotard was just unforgiving. I don't see the glaze as being difficult at all, and will be comfortable making it again, just following directions! I can't even blame the cocoa.

You can see how lumpy it was below.

And gritty.

I cut the cake and was confronted by a myriad of holes and dry as a bone. It will require much ice-cream.

My list now includes: An oven thermometer [finally], two more pizza stones, some Green&Black's cocoa -- and learn to use my SousChef software that speaks the directions in its little computer voice!

Saint-Honore' Trifle

Creating this trifle has long been anticipated by me. My hesitation was because of the room in my 4' x 8' kitchen, and concern for not having space to make the spun sugar. Finally, however, I decided to go ahead. These were my experiences:

Day 1: First I obtained gorgeous strawberries.

My friend remarked to me that it was interesting that these were California berries from the local market, and not from growers here in Poteet, Texas, the Strawberry Capitol, and known for the sweetest strawberries. Poteet celebrates, and is famous for their April festivals, held this year on April 10. In actuality, it is true this California variety at hand was not as sweet as those from Poteet. I helped them along by rinsing them in Champagne vinegar, tossing and draining them, cutting and then macerating them for a short time in superfine sugar. They were scrumptious.

Day 1: Baked the cake and cooled completely. Chilled before leveling and torting.

Cut to fit trifle bowl. Wrapped for the night.

Mixed apricot and marmalade with

Grand Marnier. Saved to spread the 4 layers with the mixture.

Prepared Grand Marnier syrup and saved for syruping the trifle layers as composing.

Day 1: Made up two other mis en places: Gathered and measured/weighed ingredients for chiboust cream. I needed 5 yolks instead of 4 to make the 74 grams; used vanilla paste for the little seeds and a Madagascar Bourbon bean.

--and measured/weighed out the whipping cream ingredients.

Time for bed.

Day 2:

First, I spread marmalade mixture on each of the 4 layers of cake that had been leveled and cut to fit trifle bowl.

Made the chiboust cream.

It seemed a little sweet, but maybe because I had used Castor sugar.

To begin the assembly of the trifle, I placed the first marmalade-bottom-layer in trifle bowl; moistened the top with Grand Marnier syrup; covered with chiboust cream and then strawberries. Continued until the top layer, which was syruped and creamed. Wrapped and refrigerated the trifle overnight.

Day 3: I Prepared the whipped cream with the intention of making large star drop-flowers all over the top of the trifle. However, after placing them around the perimeter, I ran out of whipped cream. So - strawberries in the center seemed like a good alternative. Then I finished and refrigerated the trifle.

Day 3: Now, I plastered an area of the kitchen with newspaper and taped down the oiled dowels. I brought in a little step stool, and readied the cut-up whisk and the Thermapen.

I boiled the sugar to amber at 360 degrees, and tested it until it quickly began to fall into strings. I waved it across the dowels, delighted to see the angel hair strings take shape. Hooray! It works!

This endeavor was made easy for me by examples such as Marie's and Monica's. Without those examples, I question whether I would have attempted the sugar-spinning adventure because I thought the space too small in the kitchen. But when I watched Monica and Marie, I realized that Monica really didn't use much space at all, and that for me it was a possibility after all.

Spinning completed, I gathered it into a loose round shape and sat it in its oiled glass bowl. Then brought out the trifle and placed it on a table with the spun sugar crowning it. SO pretty.

I have removed the crown several times and put it back into the freezer in it's oiled bowl, covered tightly. It seems as if it freezes well there, as Rose notes, and can be used again - if there is any left, of course.

The first portion was served to the terrified husband, for having survived his horror as his wife-gone-mad wielded a sharp object around in the air with burning strands emanating from it -

And, then to delighted friends and neighbors . . .

Of course, this divine confection is breathtaking, a vision - not to mention the fact that it is angelic with all of its elegant composition of flavours and textures. Indeed, glorious. And, I am happy to say that I was able to complete it. Now I shall go reward myself. Mmmmm!

The Banana Refrigerator Cake with Dreamy Creamy White Chocolate Frosting

This cake seemed simple and I anticipated no problems. This, in itself, can be one - because I can get careless.

You know, I have difficulty moving back and forth to view the recipe. It's not that the distance is that far; in fact it is four feet back and forth across. Nevertheless, I lose focus. My friend, Leah, has gifted me with a software program called "Sous Chef." One may scan the recipe into it. It then appears in very large text on the screen, and it speaks the directions - out loud. I am in awe. I can't wait to try it.

But back to the present challenge - I set mis en place. I have a very small counter space where two KAs sit forward, and a Cuisinart sits in the corner. For this project, I moved the food processor forward and the KA stand-up to the left. This machine is the latest one I have acquired. I am used to my tilt-head. Dealing with a bowl that fits on side heads and has to be pushed down in the back and then the whole thing moved by a lever up and down was a bit daunting, but I might as well get used to it, I bought it. This arrangement is crowded for working, to say the least.

As you know, the whole Banana Cake starts out using the food processor with bananas and creme fraiche being blended. [It also requests addition of the Turbinado sugar that sat brightly on its tray, ignored by me]. The banana, egg [I added extra yolk], vanilla mixture is added to the KA and oil added.

The dry ingredients are whisked together. The dry inredients are to be sifted into the batter. I placidly took my handy battery sifter in my left hand, attempting to turn its button on and off. The PourPerfect bowl with spout was grasped in the other hand, aimed at the sifter. I turned on the sifter and began to attempt to pour flour into that sifter, balanced carefully [actually not so] against the bowl and the space between it and the beater.

The act of sifting went forward, but suddenly near the end of the task, it lost it, and flour mixture began flying. Probably half cup or more - spewing out all over. I thought, well that's that cake. But I just scraped up what I could with a bench scraper, threw an extra handful of untreated cake flour from the container into the bowl and turned on the beater. And then, in front of me: Of all things -- there was the little bowl of Turbinado sugar, still sitting brightly on its tray. It was to have been added initially to the banana mixture. Well, you know what I said ^#[-= ! And, then feeling sorrow for the little sugar, I just slid it into the bowl of now even more dubiously- balanced ingredients. I let it all whirl for a good 2 minutes plus until it seemed to be mixed, and turned it into its pan with apologies to it.

Thinking the worst, I went away, and returned in 15 minutes or so. Peeked through the glass in the oven, and behold -

This sturdy little cake was rising happily. I was awestruck. I have been attempting to listen to Hector a little better lately and so I took the temp of the little cake with my Thermapen instead of a toothpick. It was about 202f. Looking firm, a slight dome, good color, sides just beginning to pull from the pan. It was ready.

I removed it, let it sit 10 minutes, in the pan, inverted it. Went back a few minutes later and reinverted it.

And as we speak, a couple of hours later, it is cooling. It is all I can do to keep from going out there and leveling it so I can see what the interior brings, and steal a bite. But I want to refrigerate it over night. The final verdict won't come until tomorrow night after it is frosted. I now have leveled it and it was moist and full of texture, the taste of banana, and the slight taste of the caramel of the Turbinado sugar. It was a miracle to me that the loss of certain ingredients in the flour spill hadn't ruined it. But Lady Luck was here for sure.

The cake turned out beautifully. The dreamy, creamy white chocolate frosting was a dream to make -

--delicious and pretty on the top of the cake. We found the combination superb in its simplicity. It will be very easy to make again, quickly for any appropriate occasion. [excuse photo color of frosting]

Sicilian Pistachio Cake

I have been enamoured of this cake since I have first seen it; Matthew's, and then the ones created by our Heavenly Bakers.

Eternally, I find myself playing catch-up with our cakes, having been renovating our living quarters, and retiring from my job. Hopefully, I will be more able to participate now. I really miss you when I am not here. This is my first cake for a month.

That being said: To prepare for this cake, I went on a two-week search for the pistachios. As others have found, they where were out of stock at Kalustyan, and La Cuisine, etc. Finally I found them through Amazon at an Amazon-like price. Wow! And they were not slivered, and they were darker than those I had seen. However, they tasted really delicious. I slivered them the best I could to get the insides to show. I had hoped for the violet color, but they were more lime. They photographed darker than they are.

The cake was to be a surprise party gift, and I wanted it to be double-layered. I have usually been setting mis en place the evening before baking. So I did this. I doubled, weighed and combined the dry ingredients as specified. Ground the nuts and sugar. Flour. Separated the sour cream. Weighed the butter and took it out early the next morning [In retrospect: Altho holding shape but squishy - I didn't take its temp. Mistake]. The eggs were left out at room temp, but I did not set them in warm water before using; I did not weigh them [Later I think, I know better]. Did I not beat the batter long enough? Was the rack down one too low? I did not have a thermometer in the oven [I do still need to get one]. Something could have gone amiss because I don't usually double a recipe; maybe I did something wrong in that area? Did I not grind the pistachio/sugar fine enough? I had cheated and did not use super-fine sugar. I thought why do that when it is going to be ground anyway? Well - Back to reality -

I have not had this problem before, albeit many other problems! Now, I have visited the baking forum and have read the seniors' ideas on this. Mostly oven temperature. And under-beating re structure.

It would be interesting if I had done all things I know to do, and the cake still cratered. At least then I could rule out things, and less obvious reasons could come to light.

I fled to the forum. I noted that people who wrote that although their cake fell in, also wrote that it was delicious in flavor. Mine was absolutely delicious in flavor, as well, and with the few drops of pistachio essence it seemed ethereal. I thought it a little dense. Perhaps it is meant to be. But under the circumstances, I would conjecture it was most likely the result of some maltreatment of mine that had perpetuated the caving in.

At first, as I watched the cake in the oven, not rising in the center at 35", I was in a panic. I read that in this type situation, others thought theirs not done and let the cake stay in the oven longer. I did this also, and tested it. I would have thought it underdone as well except that the sides were very far away from the cake pan sides by then, and the color was approaching copper. I decided to give up and try to rescue it.

I followed normal procedure and cooled it. Wrapped it and refrigerated it. What was I going to do with it. It looked like one of the tortes meant to be filled with fruit. Finally, I gave up and took it out of the refrigerator. I began to attack it with my 14" knife to level it.

This actually did a very good job. And I had my first taste of it. Fabulous!! However, it still had a very slight basin in the centers of the layers that, perhaps, a few tricks of the eye could remedy.

The bc having been made, I now put filling into the lower-layer basin, leveled it; then some into the upper layer and leveled it. I frosted the lower layer and placed the bottom layer upside-down onto the top. This left the bottom flat and the top layer flat. I chilled it a bit more, and because of the cake's consistency, I crumb-coated it.

Then chilled it for a few minutes and frosted it, using a bench scraper to try for smoothness.

I decided not to attempt to adhere pistachios all round the cake, a la Matthew - whose was awesome. At this point, for me, it was more prudent to stay simple. I couldn't bear another problem to solve, and adhering pistachios by tossing them up from below onto barely sticky mousseline was not something I could strive to attain that evening, or maybe any other evening without him to share his expertise.

In my opinion, this cake is remarkable, a real winner. The flavor is sensuous and alluring. Perhaps mine was a little dense from being overbaked/underbaked, but most assuredly - I think it is absolutely beautiful and can't wait to make it again.

Echo says yum.