And to end it off, here are a few little cakes that I couldn’t resist sharing. Everything you need to know is given in the recipe and as far as equipment goes, you might like to take a look at the general information on baking equipment. I hope you’ll enjoy these last few treats. They range from plain(ish) to fancy and all have their own special points.
This recipe is based on Portuguese ‘bolos de arroz’, small cakes that are a popular snack and breakfast item, accompanied by cups of excellent coffee. Rice flour gives them a unique texture that is light and loose and seems to dissolve on the tongue, making the first bite a surprise. Traditional ‘bolos de arroz’ are sometimes flavoured with a pinch of lemon or orange zest, but I have chosen fragrant cinnamon sticks that add aroma and visual appeal. ‘Fragrant’ is crucial here, or you will end up with little noticeable extra flavour, so I use some ground cinnamon in the topping too. The cakes should be eaten fresh, so make small batches, unless you are catering for a large group.
The Portuguese are extremely fond of cinnamon and cinnamon sticks make unexpected appearances. Breakfasting with the locals in a small café on the bank of the Douro, I selected a little cake with an upright cinnamon stick in the centre. There were no ground spices in the batter, but the aroma from the stick permeated the cake, producing a subtle spiciness. In another café, I unwrapped the elongated object that rested on the saucer next to my coffee and took a bite. It was not the chocolate or cookie that I had expected it to be, but an unadorned stick of cinnamon! The amused waiter came over to tell me that I was meant to stir my coffee with it. We live and learn.
Makes 6 cakes
75 g/2¾ oz/½ cup rice flour (regular non-glutinous)
50 g/1¾ oz/generous ⅓ cup plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
⅛ tsp salt
75 g/2¾ oz/5 tbsp butter, softened
75 g/2¾ oz/¼ cup + 2 tbsp caster sugar
1 egg, lightly beaten with ½ tsp vanilla extract
2 tbsp milk
1 tbsp brandy or rum
1 tbsp granulated sugar + ¾ tsp ground cinnamon, combined
6 cinnamon sticks
Preheat the oven to 170°C/325°F/Gas Mark 3. Line a 6-hole muffin tin with paper cases.
Sift the flours with the baking powder and salt and set aside.
Beat the butter until smooth. Add the caster sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Add the egg to the creamed mixture, a little at a time, beating well and scraping down the sides of the bowl after each addition. Fold in the flour mixture in 3 batches, adding the milk and brandy or rum with the second batch.
Spoon the batter evenly into the paper cases and sprinkle ½ tsp of the cinnamon sugar over each one. Stand a cinnamon stick upright in the centre of each cake.
Bake for about 20 minutes, or until cooked through. The tops will have cracked to show veins of soft, pale cake between the darker crunchy topping. Leave to cool on a wire rack and serve fresh.
Called ‘drunkards’ in Spain, these cakes are good with tea or coffee and make a delicious dessert. They are generally baked in a slab and cut into slices or squares for decorating and serving. Sadly, many Spanish bakers’ idea of a finishing touch is to coat each portion with thick gluey custard. Those with more of an eye for elegance bake them in individual tins and use whipped cream as a filling or decoration, and home cooks like to serve them in a pool of homemade custard. I like a dollop of cr è me fra î che (lightly sweetened if you like) and whatever decoration is at hand, usually bright berries and mint. If you have a few extra minutes to spare, mango ‘shrikhand’) makes a great partner. The cakes should be nicely moistened without being wet and they can be eaten fresh, but the flavour will improve if they are left to stand for a day or two. Those who want more of a kick can sprinkle an extra teaspoon or so of alcohol onto their cake.
Makes 12 cakes
For the cake
butter, for greasing
plain flour, for dusting
3 eggs
125 g/4½ oz/½ cup + 2 tbsp caster sugar
¾ tsp vanilla extract
125 g/4½ oz/scant 1 cup plain flour, sifted with ¾ tsp baking powder
scant ¼ tsp salt
2 tbsp milk
For the syrup
150 g/5½ oz/¾ cup granulated sugar
125 ml/4 fl oz/½ cup water
3–4 green cardamom pods
2 cinnamon sticks
finely pared zest of ½ a medium organic orange
100 ml/3½ fl oz/scant ½ cup rum or brandy
To serve
crème fraîche, whipped cream, fresh custard or mango shrikhand
Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4. Grease a 12-hole muffin tin and dust with flour.
Use a heavy-duty electric mixer to whisk the eggs, sugar and vanilla extract together until thick and pale. The mixture should fall off the whisk in thick ribbons. Fold in the flour, baking powder and salt and gently but thoroughly mix in the milk.
Spoon the batter into the cavities – they should be about three-quarters full – and bake for about 20 minutes until dark golden brown. Pale cakes will have less flavour.
Make the syrup while the cakes are baking. Put the sugar, water, spices and pared orange zest in a heavy-based saucepan over medium heat. Bring to the boil while stirring to dissolve the sugar. Lower the heat and leave to simmer for 5 minutes. Remove from the heat, add the rum or brandy and set aside. Sieve into a small jug when ready to use.
Turn the baked cakes out upside down onto a tray. Pour the warm syrup slowly and evenly over the cakes. They should absorb all of the liquid. Leave upside down to cool, then pack in an airtight container and leave to mature for a day or so.
Serve as desired. If you are not going to use all the cakes within a few days, freeze them (unsyruped) while fresh. The sieved syrup can be kept in the refrigerator for more than a week. Warm it and pour it over the thawed cakes, then leave them for a few hours to let the flavours develop.
It is surprising how much mystique can surround one tiny and quite simple cake, and it has become almost inevitable to mention Proust and the madeleine in the same breath. In the first volume of his novel ‘À la Recherche du Temps Perdu’ (In Search of Lost Time), the narrator raises to his lips a spoonful of lime flower tea in which he has soaked some madeleine crumbs and is overwhelmed by ecstasy at the taste.
Although you can now find them in various flavours and compositions, the ‘Madeleine de Commercy’ is held to be the classic version. The cake called ‘quatre-quarts’ by the French and ‘pound cake’ by English speakers had long been a speciality of that town and came to form the basis of the dainty shell-shaped madeleine. In the early eighteenth century, the Polish king Stanislas Leszczynski lived in exile in France and his castle at Commercy was one of his favourite residences. There are various stories surrounding the origin of the madeleine, most linked in some way to Stanislas. One version tells of a pastry cook in his employ abandoning his ovens and leaving the sweet-toothed king to fend for himself. In search of some delicacy to satisfy his craving, he pounced enthusiastically upon the small cakes being eaten by one of his servants and consequently gave them her name. Another variant recounts how Madeleine Paumier saved the day at one of the king’s banquets when the intended dessert failed; she quickly baked some ‘quatre-quarts’ batter in small moulds and the grateful Stanislas named the cakes after her. Their fame spread rapidly once Stanislas introduced them to the French court after the marriage of his daughter Marie to Louis XV.
Commercy remains the madeleine capital and every summer, there is a gathering of the ‘Compagnons de la Madeleine’ who take their mission very seriously, even donning special robes for the occasion. This fraternity was created in 1963 by master madeleine makers, with the admirable aim of making the madeleine known and appreciated in every possible place, and to protect and maintain the quality of the ‘Véritable Madeleine de Commercy’.
A madeleine must be baked in a scalloped mould or it becomes simply another small cake. Choose well-shaped, nicely detailed moulds and take into account that dark tins will brown the cakes faster than lighter coloured ones, especially in the ferocious heat that madeleines require. Freshly baked, they are very tender on the inside with a slight bite to the crust. They become more compact after a day or two, but remain equally delicious. If you find them less than moist, you could always imitate Proust’s protagonist and do a little dipping and soaking of your own.
Note: The batter needs to mature for at least half an hour.
Makes 12
100 g/3½ oz/scant ¾ cup plain flour, plus extra for dusting
1 tsp baking powder
large pinch of salt
zest of ⅓ of an orange or lemon (preferably organic)
85 g/3 oz/6 tbsp butter, melted and cooled slightly, plus extra for greasing
1 tbsp runny honey
2 eggs
½ tsp vanilla extract
85 g/3 oz/scant ½ cup caster sugar
Sift the flour with the baking powder and salt and set aside. Grate the citrus zest over the melted butter, stir in the honey and set aside.
Put the eggs, vanilla extract and sugar in a large mixer bowl and whisk until the mixture is pale and fairly thick. Use a balloon or other large hand whisk to fold in the flour mixture. Do not whisk, but use the whisk as you would use a spoon, to make gentle circles or figures of eight. When most of the flour has been incorporated, blend in the butter gently but thoroughly. Stop mixing as soon as there are no more streaks left in the batter.
Cover the bowl with clingfilm and refrigerate or set aside in a very cool place for at least 30 minutes, but not more than 12 hours. I use it after 45 minutes or so. The baking powder will have started to work, aerating the batter and it will set a little. Do not stir it.
Preheat the oven to 220°C/425°F/Gas Mark 7. Grease a 12-hole madeleine tin and dust with flour*.
Spoon the batter evenly into the tin, level the top and bake in a searingly hot oven just until cooked through, about 8 minutes. A skewer inserted into the middle of the cake should come out clean. Overbaking will make them dry. Serve as soon as they are cool, or pack into an airtight container and eat within three days.
*The best way to prepare the muffin tin is to brush the cavities well with melted butter, then flour them thoroughly, tapping the tin to remove any excess.
Simple, but delicious and attractive, the English Madeleine seems to have vanished from the tea table. The buttery batter is cooked in tall, pail-shaped dariole moulds, coated with raspberry jam and coconut and the traditional decoration is a glacé cherry half flanked by two small green ‘leaves’ of angelica. Angelica is the candied stalk of the Angelica archangelica. In Britain, its main use is in confectionery and cakes, adding both colour and flavour. You could just as easily substitute small mint leaves if angelica is difficult to obtain.
The towering shape contributes to the charm, but you can adapt to suit. This recipe will make six tall, domed cakes which are trimmed after baking. If you prefer, you could use eight moulds of the same size for a squatter version, or a larger number of smaller moulds, even a muffin tin at a push. Adjust the baking time and decorating requirements accordingly.
Makes 6
125 g/4½ oz/9 tbsp butter, softened, plus extra for greasing
150 g/5½ oz/generous 1 cup plain flour, plus extra for dusting
1¼ tsp baking powder
⅛ tsp salt
125 g/4? oz/½ cup + 2 tbsp caster sugar
3 eggs, lightly beaten with 1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tbsp milk
To decorate
about 4 tbsp fine desiccated coconut
4 tbsp seedless raspberry jam, warmed
halved glacé cherries
angelica or other green decoration, such as mint leaves
Preheat the oven to 170°C/325°F/Gas Mark 3. Grease 6 dariole moulds (175 ml/ 6 fl oz) and dust with flour.
Sift the flour with the baking powder and salt and set aside.
Beat the butter until smooth. Add the sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Add the beaten eggs to the creamed mixture, a little at a time, beating well and scraping down the sides of the bowl after each addition. Fold in the flour in 3 batches, adding the milk with the third batch.
Spoon the batter evenly into the dariole moulds and bake for about 20 minutes, or until a skewer inserted into the centre of the cakes comes out clean. Grip the moulds firmly with a folded cloth and gently turn the cakes out onto a wire rack. Stand them on their bases and leave to cool.
When the cakes are cool, trim the domed tops to make them flat. Scatter the desiccated coconut onto a plate. Brush the cakes thoroughly with the warm jam, leaving the cut side free. Prick this side (which will now be the base) with a fork and roll in the coconut so that as much as possible clings to the jam. You should be able to see a red background glow, but there should be no bald spots. Transfer to a serving plate and decorate with a halved cherry and 2 angelica ‘leaves’ or other greenery.
Eat within a day or two or freeze when they are fresh, adding leaves just before serving.
I always felt that I knew quite a lot about pineapples; all sorts of things, from seeing how they grow on prickly plants with tough waxy leaves in the tropics, how to clean them and prepare them for the table (including rubbing the flesh with a little salt to bring out more flavour), the fact that gelatine will not set with fresh pineapple, its use as a meat tenderiser and even the little known fact that the fibre from the leaves of the plant is used to make beautiful semi-transparent silk-like fabric in the Philippines – I even own several garments and accessories made from it. But there is so much more to the pineapple. I suppose that you could hazard a guess that it is yet another delicacy we owe to Christopher Columbus, but did you know, for instance, that pineapple juice mixed with sand cleans boat decks very effectively? Or that the bromelian contained in its leaves is used to stabilise latex paint? Or even that they come in largely varying sizes, from dwarf to 5 kg/11 lb each? And I bet that not many people know that workers in pineapple processing plants must wear gloves lest their hands get tenderised to the point of decomposing.
The pineapple (Ananas comosus) is native to Brazil and is indeed one of the many new foods Columbus introduced to Europe on returning from his voyages of discovery. The plant had spread from Brazil to the Caribbean and was found and enjoyed by the sailors on Guadeloupe in 1493, on the second voyage. The botanical name is derived from the Brazilian Tupi Indian word nana or anana, meaning ‘excellent fruit’ and continues to be reflected in several languages, among others French, German, Portuguese, Russian, Hebrew, Turkish, Arabic and Malay.
Its English name of pineapple came about in a tangled way, first adopted from the Spaniards who found that it bore a great resemblance to the pine cone and named it piña. It seems that the suffix ‘apple’ was added in the English language to make a distinction between the tropical fruit and the pine cone and to emphasise the fact that it was a good thing to eat, as apples were known to be. In my native Guyana where pineapples grow abundantly and apples are an imported delicacy and not something most people readily identify with, the fruit is simply called ‘pine’, there being no other kinds of pines, trees or cones, to cloud the issue. Interestingly, the word ‘pineapple’ was first recorded in English in 1398 and was used at that time to denote the pine cone; the term pine cone did not appear in written form until 1694.
European gardeners managed to grow the fruits in hothouses as early as the 1520s, although it was to take more than a century for them to refine the skills and conditions involved. They were a great delicacy and were often used whole in all their natural beauty to decorate banquet tables. It appears that pineapples could also be rented for this purpose, if one could not afford to buy them outright. The fruit came to be associated with hospitality and friendship and became a well-loved motif in architectural, artistic and domestic objects. They were engraved and carved into buildings, moulded into metal decorations and woven into all sorts of household linen and furnishings.
Main world growers include Thailand, the Philippines, Brazil, Costa Rica, Hawaii and Ivory Coast. The quality of supermarket pineapples has improved vastly over the years and modern refrigeration and transportation techniques mean that we can enjoy them quite ripe. This is more important than it sounds, as pineapples, unlike most other fruits, do not continue to ripen after being picked; they start to deteriorate almost immediately and low temperatures can combat that to a great extent. Some fruit is canned at the point of origin, most notably in Hawaii.
The raw fruits are not only delicious to eat on their own, but can be added to salads or cooked with spicy ingredients to give a wonderful contrast. Being extremely rich in vitamin C and fibre, they are good for one’s health and are said to alleviate laryngitis, pharyngitis and cystitis. They are also a diuretic and have some antiseptic and vermifugal properties, also helping against rheumatoid arthritis, sciatica and obesity. Tasty and healthy at the same time, what more could we ask for?
With just a little extra patience you can turn a slab of cake into very attractive and tasty individual treats. It goes without saying that the pineapple should be flavourful. Canned pineapple is fine, but pineapple canned in syrup will not be as good as that canned in its own juice. Diehard chocoholics will insist that dark chocolate makes a better glaze, but I find that it overwhelms the pineapple. Go with the white chocolate, or do as I do to humour the dark chocolate faction: dip half or part of the batch in dark chocolate and the rest in white. Make them a day in advance for the best flavour.
150 g/5½ oz/scant ¾ cup butter, softened, plus extra for greasing
150 g/5½ oz/generous 1 cup plain flour, plus extra for dusting
200 g/7 oz flavourful pineapple (fresh or canned), puréed
50 g/1¾ oz/½ cup fine desiccated coconut
2 tbsp rum
1¼ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp bicarbonate of soda
¼ tsp salt
150 g/5½ oz/¾ cup caster sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
2 tbsp milk
To finish
400–450 g/14 oz–1 lb white chocolate (with a high percentage of cocoa butter)
2 whole candied pineapple slices*
*Try to find whole slices of candied pineapple for the decoration. They are far better than the minute and sugary chunks and will add to both the appearance and flavour of the cakes.
Preheat the oven to 170°C/325°F/Gas Mark 3. Grease a 20-cm/8-in square tin, line the base with baking parchment and dust with flour.
Mix the puréed pineapple, coconut and rum together and set aside while you assemble the rest of the ingredients. Stir it again before use.
Sift the flour with the baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and salt and set aside.
Beat the butter and sugar until creamy and lightened in colour. Add the beaten eggs, a little at a time, beating well after each addition and scraping down the sides of the bowl regularly. Gently fold in the flour and pineapple mixture in 3 alternating batches, starting with the flour. Add the milk with the last batch of flour. Transfer the batter to the tin and bake for 35–40 minutes until the cake is light golden brown and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean. Leave it in the tin for a minute or two, then invert onto a wire rack, peel off the baking parchment and leave to cool.
When the cake is completely cool, cut it into 4 strips. Trim off a triangular piece from the end of a strip and cut the rest into 4 ‘chunks’ that look like wedges with the thin end lopped off. This end should measure just over 2 cm/½ in and the wide top end should be about 6 cm/2½ in. Remember to make each cut in the opposite direction, or you will end up with diamond shapes. Eat the trimmings straightaway or freeze them to make a trifle type dessert later.
Brush each chunk completely free of crumbs and neaten any ragged edges, or this will all be visible after glazing. Set aside, right side up, and put a sheet of baking parchment on your work surface.
Chop the chocolate finely and melt it in a small heatproof bowl over a pan of barely simmering water. Prick a chunk of cake with a fork and dip it into the chocolate so that all but the top is coated. Tap the fork on the edge of the bowl to allow any excess to fall off. Use a second fork to help slide the coated cake carefully onto the baking parchment, uncoated side down. Coat the rest in the same way. As you get nearer the end, you may have to use a spoon to help coat the cake.
Cut the pineapple slices into suitable chunks and use to decorate the tops, one chunk per cake.
Leave the chocolate to harden completely, then arrange the cakes in a single layer in an airtight container and leave for a day. You can also freeze a portion for later. The maturation time brings out more flavour.
These attractive and rich little layer cakes are a Dutch pastry-shop staple and are easy to make at home. Maraschino liqueur (not the syrup from the bottle of cherries!) is popular with professional bakers in Holland and it imparts a subtle flowery fragrance, but feel free to flavour the buttercream as you choose, or simply leave out the alcohol and use a little milk instead. The marzipan can be tinted pink or left plain. Make them a day in advance to allow the flavours to mature and the marzipan to soften a little.
Makes 8
For the cake
30 g/1 oz/2 tbsp butter, melted and cooled slightly, plus extra for greasing
100 g/3½ oz/scant ½ cup plain flour, plus extra for dusting
¼ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
3 eggs
100 g/3½ oz/½ cup caster sugar
½ tsp vanilla extract
For the buttercream filling
150 g/5½ oz/scant ¾ cup soft butter
175 g/6 oz/1½ cups icing sugar, sifted
3 tbsp maraschino liqueur
To decorate
about 400 g/14 oz marzipan
red food colouring (optional)
Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4. Grease a 20-cm/8-in square tin well and dust with flour.
Sift the flour with the baking powder and salt and set aside.
Put the eggs, sugar and vanilla extract in a large mixer bowl and whisk until the mixture is very thick and pale. When the whisk is lifted the mixture should fall in thick ribbons, not in a stream. Use a balloon or other large hand whisk to fold in the flour mixture. Do not whisk, but use the whisk as you would use a spoon, to make gentle circles or figures of eight. When most of the flour has been incorporated, blend in the butter gently but thoroughly. Stop mixing as soon as there are no more streaks left in the batter.
Transfer the batter to the tin, level the top and bake for about 20 minutes until golden brown and cooked through. A skewer inserted into the middle of the cake should come out clean and the cake should spring back lightly if pressed with a fingertip. Don’t overbake, or it will be dry. Loosen the cake from the sides of the tin and invert onto a wire rack to cool.
For the buttercream, put the butter in a heavy-duty electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment and beat it for a minute at medium speed. Add the sifted icing sugar and beat well for about 5 minutes until light and fluffy. Start at very low speed to prevent clouds of icing sugar from wafting around, then gradually increase to a fairly high speed. Add 1 tbsp maraschino (or other flavouring) and beat for another minute; it should have a soft spreading consistency.
Cut the cake horizontally into two even layers, then cut away a third of the cake vertically. Reserve 6 tbsp of the buttercream. Sprinkle 1 tbsp of maraschino over one large layer and spread half of the remaining buttercream over it. Repeat with the second large layer, then lay the two small layers next to each other on top of this. You will now have a three-layer cake. Wrap and chill until the buttercream firms up.
Meanwhile, if you would like to tint the marzipan pink, add enough food colouring and knead it in. Divide into two portions. Roll out each portion thinly between layers of clingfilm and trim to a rectangle, about 18 x 52 cm/7 x 20? in. Cut each sheet into 4 pieces, about 9 x 26 cm/3? x 10? in.
Remove the cake from the refrigerator and trim off any untidy edges. Cut the cake into 8 almost-square portions. Spread a dab of the reserved buttercream on all 4 sides of each cake; you just need a thin smear somewhere in the middle that will hold the marzipan in place.
Put a cake on your work surface and press a length of marzipan against one side, beginning exactly in a corner. Fold the marzipan around the cake, patting it into place. Lay the cake on its side so that the excess marzipan is on the work surface and trim away, leaving about ½ cm/¼ in. Press against the other end to seal and stand the right way up. There should be a lot of marzipan at the top of the cake. Use your fingers to bring the 4 sides inwards so that they touch in the centre and 4 pleats form, one in each corner. Looking from the top, it should look like a parcel with a double bow on top.
Refrigerate for at least a few hours (preferably overnight) before serving, covered and away from strong smells. They can also be frozen in an airtight box.
Serve at room temperature for the best flavour. I find them rich and satisfying enough to be shared by two people, but bigger eaters may prefer to have a cake to themselves.
This Australian favourite has been around since the end of the nineteenth century and is said to have been named after Lord Lamington, Governor of Queensland from 1895 – 1901. Their popularity remains undiminished and they are a hot item for both home bakers and pastry shops. Using real chocolate to coat the cubes instead of the more common cocoa icing makes them absolutely irresistible and very much worth the time the dipping and coating takes.
Makes 16 cubes
For the sponge cake
50 g/1¾ oz/3½ tbsp butter, melted and cooled slightly, plus extra for greasing
125 g/4½ oz/scant 1 cup plain flour, plus extra for dusting
25 g/1 oz/generous 3 tbsp cornflour
¼ tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
4 eggs
150 g/5½ oz/¾ cup caster sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
For the glaze
500 g/1 lb 2 oz dark chocolate, finely chopped
250 ml/9 fl oz/generous 1 cup milk
To finish
about 150 g/5½ oz/1⅔ cups fine desiccated coconutv
Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4. Grease a 21-cm/8?-in square tin and dust with flour.
Sift the flour with the cornflour, baking powder and salt and set aside.
Use a heavy-duty electric mixer to whisk the eggs, caster sugar and vanilla extract until thick and pale. It should fall off the whisk in a ribbon rather than a thin stream. Gently fold in the flour mixture in 2 batches using a balloon whisk. Add the melted and slightly cooled butter with the second batch of flour and mix just until there are no more streaks of flour or butter apparent in the batter.
Transfer the batter to the tin and level the top. Bake for 20–25 minutes. When you press the top of the sponge with a fingertip, the indentation you create should slowly regain its original shape. Turn out onto a wire rack to cool.
For the glaze, put the chocolate and milk in a heavy-based saucepan over low heat. Stir gently to melt the chocolate. As soon as the mixture is homogenous, remove it from the heat and leave to cool slightly, but don’t allow it to thicken too much or it will be difficult to use.
Cut the sponge into 16 cubes and brush free of crumbs. Hold each cube on a fork over the bowl or pan of glaze and use a spoon or small jug to pour the glaze over the cake so that the top and 4 sides are coated. Spills and excess will fall into the bowl or pan to be reused. Arrange the cubes on a wire rack or a sheet of baking parchment.
When the glaze has almost set, put the desiccated coconut on a plate. Tilt each cube gently with a toothpick and prick the bottom on a fork. Press each glazed side lightly in the coconut to coat and leave to set in a cool place away from strong smells.
These delightful macaroon and truffle morsels are a popular Scandinavian treat. They were named after the French actress Sarah Bernhardt (1844 – 1923), who achieved great fame in her own country and later graced the stages of many European and American cities, even venturing as far afield as Havana. She went on to act in some of the first motion pictures and enjoyed a long and successful career, remaining undaunted by the loss of a leg to gangrene in later life. An air of notoriety always clung to her, mainly due to endless affairs and dalliances with noblemen and other highly placed society figures, including Edward VII while he was Prince of Wales. Her many eccentricities included sleeping in a coffin, and she claimed that this helped her to prepare better for dramatic roles.
Makes 12
For the truffle filling
75 ml/2½ fl oz/5 tbsp double cream
25 g/1 oz/2 tbsp butter
150 g/5½ oz/5½ squares dark chocolate, finely chopped
For the macaroon base
100 g/3½ oz/⅔ cup blanched almonds, finely ground
125 g/4½ oz/½ cup + 2 tbsp granulated sugar
35 g/1¼ oz egg white
To finish
225 g/8 oz/8 squares dark chocolate, finely chopped
12 silver balls or crystallised flower petals, to decorate
Preheat oven to 150°C/300°F/Gas Mark 2. Line a baking sheet with baking parchment.
Make the truffle filling first. Heat the cream and butter in a small saucepan until it starts to boil. Scatter in the chocolate and remove it from the heat. Give it a good shake so that the liquid covers the chocolate. Leave to stand for a minute or two, then stir until smooth. Cool and chill until thick enough to hold its shape, but don’t let it get too hard, or it will be difficult to shape.
For the macaroon base, mix all of the ingredients together to a smooth paste. Divide the mixture into 12 equal portions. Roll each portion into a ball and arrange them on the baking sheet. Moisten your fingers and flatten each one neatly to a disc about 5 cm/2 in in diameter. They will not spread much while baking. Bake for 15–20 minutes. The tops should stay pale and the bottoms will be golden brown and they should give a little to the touch.
Remove from the oven, leave to stand for a minute or two, then carefully loosen the macaroons from the baking parchment. Leave to cool on a wire rack.
When the macaroon bases have cooled, put a portion of the truffle filling on each one. Spread it out a little, then use a small palette knife to make a conical shape so that the top ends in a point. Try to keep the base free of smears. Chill until firm.
Melt the chocolate in a small heatproof bowl over a pan of barely simmering water. Dip the truffle part into the melted chocolate, holding each one by the macaroon base, keeping the base as smear-free as you can. Decorate as you wish.
They can be served as soon as the chocolate has set. Keep leftovers covered and refrigerated, but serve at room temperature so that the filling is nice and succulent.
You can use either Pistachio or Almond Marzipan for these cakes. If I happen to have both in the refrigerator at the same time, I make half a dozen of either kind. The Pistachio Marzipan is so attractive that you could easily find yourself wanting to dispense with the chocolate glaze, adding even more colour with fragments of bright pink crystallised rose petals or whole petals if your budget permits. If you have any Almond Marzipan left over, you can colour it and make simple flowers and leaves to decorate the cakes; bought decorations as listed below are also fine.
For the cake
100 g/3½ oz/7 tbsp butter, softened, plus extra for greasing
125 g/4½ oz/scant 1 cup plain flour, plus extra for dusting
20 g/¾ oz/scant ¼ cup (unsweetened) cocoa powder
70 ml/2½ fl oz/generous ¼ cup boiling water
1¼ tsp baking powder
scant ¼ tsp salt
150 g/5½ oz/¾ cup caster sugar
2 eggs, beaten with 1 tsp vanilla extract
To finish
about 500 g/1 lb 2 oz Almond or Pistachio Marzipan
50 g/1¾ oz seedless raspberry or smooth apricot jam, warmed
100 ml/3½ fl oz/scant ½ cup double cream
175 g/6 oz/6 squares dark chocolate, chopped into small pieces
pistachios, silver balls or crystallised flowers, to decorate
Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4. Grease a 12-hole bun or muffin tin and dust with flour*.
For the cake batter, combine the cocoa and boiling water in a small bowl and stir well to remove any lumps. Sift the flour, baking powder and salt together in another bowl and set aside.
Put the sugar and butter in a large mixer bowl and cream well. Beat in the beaten eggs in 3 batches, scraping down the sides of the bowl after each addition. Continue to beat until light and fluffy. Use a balloon whisk to mix in the cocoa, then gently fold in the flour mixture in 2 batches. Stop mixing as soon as there are no more streaks.
Spoon the batter into the bun or muffin tin and bake for about 20 minutes until a skewer inserted into the centre of a cake comes out clean. Note that they will puff up a bit while baking, but will subside later quite neatly. Transfer them carefully to a wire rack to cool completely.
To finish, roll out the marzipan between two sheets of clingfilm to a thickness of 2 mm/1/16 in and cut out 12 circles, about 11 cm/4? in in diameter. Re-roll and re-cut the trimmings as necessary. Brush the sides and bottoms of the cooled cakes lightly with the warm jam and place them bottoms up on the rack. Cover each cake with a marzipan circle. The easiest way to do this is to drop a marzipan circle over the cake and invert it into one hand so that the exposed side is facing upwards. Use your other hand to pat and press the marzipan into place, smoothing out the inevitable pleats. If they are too thick, snip off the excess with a pair of scissors and smooth with your fingers. This step is not absolutely necessary, but it will allow you to glaze the cakes more smoothly and evenly. Note that these trimmings fall under the category of cook’s perks, as they will most likely have some jam on them and cannot be re-rolled or kept.
Put the cream in a saucepan and bring to the boil. Scatter in the chocolate and remove from the heat. Leave to stand for about 2 minutes, or until the chocolate melts, then stir until homogenous. Drop a generous spoonful of the mixture over the top of each cake and spread with a palette knife so that it covers the marzipan. Decorate as desired. If you are making both pistachio and almond versions, use two different decorations so that you can recognise them later.
Once the chocolate has set, they can be stored in an airtight container for a few days in the refrigerator. Serve at room temperature. They can also be frozen, but the glaze may discolour slightly.
*My tin has cavities that hold 75 ml/2½ fl oz/⅓ cup. If yours deviates, make allowances accordingly. When you cover the cakes with marzipan, measure the two sloping sides plus the diameter of the base (which is now the top) and cut the marzipan to that diameter.
This cake, with thin cake layers and a melt-in-the mouth filling, is chocolate heaven to my children. When they were younger, we used to spend part of every summer in America, in the small town where my sister and her family, as well as my parents, lived. One of the local supermarkets offered first-class gourmet cakes and we found an intense chocolate cake that was to die for. It became a firm favourite and I was encouraged by the children to re-create it at home in Holland, where it remains an evergreen. The liquor in the filling is a later addition; if you prefer you can substitute an equal amount of extra cream at the beginning.
Makes 12 squares
For the filling
200 ml/7 fl oz/generous ¾ cup double cream
200 g/7 oz/7 squares dark chocolate, chopped into very small pieces
1½ tbsp brandy, rum, Grand Marnier or Cointreau
For the cake
35 g/1¼ oz/generous ⅓ cup (unsweetened) cocoa powder
125 ml/4 fl oz/½ cup boiling water
100 g/3½ oz/scant ¾ cup plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp salt
100 g/3½ oz/7 tbsp butter, softened
150 g/5½ oz/¾ cup caster sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten with 1¼ tsp vanilla extract
Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4. Line a baking sheet, about 28 × 35 cm/11 × 14 in with sides, with baking parchment.
Make the filling first, as it needs to stand for a while to reach the correct consistency. Put the cream in a saucepan and heat it to boiling point. Remove from the heat and scatter in the chocolate pieces. Give the pan a shake so that all the chocolate is covered with cream and leave to stand for 2–3 minutes. Stir gently until smooth, then stir in the flavouring liquor thoroughly. Overbrisk stirring will create air bubbles. Leave to cool to an easily spreadable consistency while you make the cake. It can also be chilled briefly if it takes too long at room temperature. A spoonful of filling lifted and allowed to fall should do so in soft blobs, not a stream, but if it hardens too much it will start to set and will not give an attractive finish.
For the cake, put the cocoa and boiling water into a small bowl and stir well to make a lump-free paste. Set aside.
Sift the flour with the baking powder and salt and set aside.
Use a heavy-duty electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment to cream the butter and sugar together well until lightened and fluffy. Add the beaten eggs in 3 or 4 batches, scraping down the sides of the bowl after each addition. Fold in the flour mixture in 3 batches, alternating with the cocoa. Make sure that all the flour has been absorbed each time before adding the liquid, or you may get a few lumps.
Transfer the batter to the tin, level the top and bake for about 15 minutes, or until a skewer inserted into the centre of the cake comes out clean. Remove from the oven and top with a sheet of baking parchment. Invert a wire rack onto the baking parchment. Grip the two sides of the rack and tin firmly and invert quickly. Leave the cake to cool on the baking parchment, then cut into 3 equal rectangles. If you cut straight through the paper, you can then re-invert the pieces onto the filling with the paper attached before peeling the paper away carefully. This is useful, as the layers are thin and fragile.
Put one cake layer on a work surface lined with a large piece of clingfilm. Spread a third of the filling onto it, levelling it so that it comes neatly and evenly to the sides. Top with a second layer of cake and repeat until all 3 layers and all the filling has been used. The last third goes on top of the cake.
Leave to set before cutting into 12 squares. Do this shortly before serving to keep it as moist as possible. To cut it neatly, hold a knife under very hot water for a few seconds, dry it quickly and cut. Hold the knife under hot water and dry it after each cut. That way, the warm knife melts the chocolate and easily slips through, leaving no ragged edges. It needs no decoration, but you can of course do so if you like. Use walnut halves, sugar flowers, dragees or silver balls or whatever tasteful item takes your fancy.
Keep any uneaten cake refrigerated, suitably covered and away from strong smells. Bring to room temperature for serving so that the filling is nice and soft.
