First, a sadness. My digital camera has finally given up the ghost. New batteries do not revive it. This is particularly sad today, as I had brilliant images to share. The images of my cake.
In an effort to be economical, expand my repertoire of talents, and generally impress myself and others, I’ve decided to engage in more home cookery. I’ve been reading my cookbooks for inspiration (except for the Anthony Bourdain one. Oh I read that, but mainly for the snarky little comments and not because I’ll actually cook anything in it. I especially like to read that one after watching his show on tv. He’s my dream date. Except he’d probably find me a terribly unadventurous eater and mock me mercilously. Perhaps that’s also part of the appeal…) and had found a leek and potato soup recipe and a coconut cake recipe that looked heavenly. The draw of the coconut cake was probably partially to do with watching Gilligan’s Island far too many times as a child as much as the illustration of the gloriously fluffy pinkly tinted cake in my Amy Sedaris book. The recipe looked complicated but what are holidays from work for than for attempting complicated cakes?
First the soup. Easy as anything. Just leeks, shallots and potatoes simmered together then a bit of salt, pepper, and rosemary and into the blender. Easy, yummy, and enough to freeze three helpings for lunch this week. Economy is fun!
Then the cake. Which, by the way, is not at all economical and took about a million eggs in various forms. The batter for the cake was just a load of eggs and sugar whipped together, then cake flour (sifted. and that is not a suggestion as I found out to my detriment later, but a necessity. Who knew?) and melted butter and vanilla. It is very satisfying to whip eggs and sugar to such a frenzy that they threaten to escape over the edge of the bowl to wreak cholesterol mayhem throughout the kitchen. Following the directions, I carefully sprinkled the cake flour into the batter and gently folded it in. Then I poured in the melted butter and gently fooooooooolded it in, careful not to overmix. I was a bit too careful because as I was pouring the batter into the well-greased pans, rivers of melted butter and vanilla swirled and created canyons through the pale yellow fluff. So I tried to fold it in but may have managed to just hide it at the bottom. Into the oven went the pans. I didn’t have two round cake pans, but i had a glass round casserole dish and a square glass casserole dish. So I figured those would work well enough and then the cake would look architectural and arty.
As the cake was baking, I started on the coconut pastry cream. I KNOW! Pastry cream! Big time, baby! So I put the coconut milk, regular milk, heavy cream and 100 grams of sugar to boil. By the way, this may be the only recipe in the book that is on weights and not cups, tbsps, whatever. So I went online to find the conversions for each ingredient. Pain. In. The. Ass. While the liquids get started on their boiling, I measure cornstarch (a great crapload of cornstarch. 125 grams of cornstarch is 18.75 tablespoons.) sugar, four eggs, and four egg yolks into the bowl and start whipping that all together. Whip those, and the timer goes off for the cakes.
The cakes are a bit lopsided because they are so much air and I may have banged a few doors while searching for things and so. But they are golden brown and smell heavenly, if a bit eggy for my taste. (It is a genoise cake. And you might think that when I read the ingredients and saw six eggs on the list i’d think, hunh that might taste kind of eggy. I didn’t but it does.) So I set them on the table to rest for a minute because as I’m pulling them out, the milk on the stove starts to boil over and the smell of burned milk and coconut fills the kitchen. Race over, then pour a bit of the milk into the egg mixture to temper it so that the eggs don’t scramble when I add them to the milk. Thinking that I have achieved this, I then pour the eggs into the hot milk. I’m not sure at first if it is the eggs or the cornstarch, but things get really lumpy really quickly. The recipe says to stir until the mixture is like custard, then pour it into the bowl with butter and vanilla and whip til all incorporated.
Amy Sedaris must have fabulous arms. As did our foremothers. Christ on a leash, whipping a ridiculous amount of hot eggs and cornstarch is no easy feat! I’m stirring and stirruing the mixture on the stove and realize that I have no idea what custard is supposed to look like. I never make custard. I never eat custard. Is it supposed to be shiny? Matte? lumpy? So after the eggs and milk look incorporated, I pour it into the mixing bowl to whip with the butter. Thank god for my motorized hand mixer is all I have to say. My arms are still sore from stick fighting class and I’m not sure I could have gotten everything mixed correctly otherwise.
As I’m whipping I’m thinking back to the photo of the pretty fluffy pink cake. So I decide to add red food coloring to make it delicately pink. Except of course the yolks have made the base orangey so any red I add will not have that delicate pink look. And I also don’t realize until I have the food coloring upended over the cake that this isn’t a dropper bottle, but a bottle big ole open end bottle. A fair amount of red comes splashing out so now the custard looks vaguely raspberry colored but really gross raspberries. Then I saranwrap the custard and set it in the fridge to cool.
Figuring the cakes must have cooled enough to be removd from their pans, I run a knife around the edges of the cakes and the edges aren’t even touching! Perfect! Should be easy to get out! I grab two plates, place one plate over the casserole dish, and upend the casserole dish over the plate. Nothing happens. I shake the cake a little. Nothing happens. So I flip the whole thing back over and see that the top has fallen off the cake, but not the bottom. I take my knife and poke at the underside of the bottom and find that is rather stuck. So I scrape the cake out the best I can and end up with bits and pieces of genoise cake on the cake plate. The square cake is still in the pan, because I’m not trying to see if I should have waited until a bit cooler to try and remove the cake.
So, to whit, rather than have a lovely round faintly pink coconut encrusted cake, I have a plate full of bits and pieces, a square pan that I’m afraid of, and vomitously pink custard cooling in the fridge.
I have decided not to attempt the swiss buttercream frosting at this time.
And I really wish my camera hadn’t died.
Tags: amy sedaris, anthony bourdain, cake, disasters in the kitchen, genoise, soup
