August 28, 2014September 11, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Forêt Noire

Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.

Something from far off it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.

–Pablo Neruda, Lost in the Forest

I can’t write the introduction to this post.
I have tried, deleted, tried again. And again.

It was my dad’s birthday that prompted this cake.
So, I guess I’ll start with that: happy birthday, again, Daddy.

I was going to begin by talking about how all news seems like bad news these days;
how this blog is not meant to discuss politics but rather butter and sugar;
and yet how stiflingly hard it is to read the paper,
to come to the realization of just how many things are going so very wrong on our planet;
how such current events leave me, as far as writing goes, speechless—wordless—frozen.

This opening, as you can probably intuit from the summary, was wholly incongruous with the happy, cheery, pink cake I’m currently shoving in your face.

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It’s like the New York Times—and Bill Hayes—read my mind.
If you’re a usual reader, you know that I’ve been struggling of late to put the pen to the page.
So much white space between photographs.

I’m practicing non-writing, I suppose, but I’m still in the stages of denial.
I want to write, I can and should write, but I feel I have little to say.
My life is just so goddamn monotonous these days (which, if I’m being truthful, I love. That’s what summer is for) and I mostly spend my time, apart from baking, which you already hear about, reading Game of Thrones or working out or or pining after N, and life around the world, as I have just mentioned, is terrifyingly depressing—death and doom seem inescapable.

These things do not a lively blog post make, friends.

This space begs to be filled and yet frustratingly sucks up the feeble, meager lines that I proffer up.
It demands real writing, real words, and even when I concede to “non-writing”, a few snippets here and there, nothing serious, it whispers in my ear, sending shivers and doubt up my spine… don’t you think they’ll get bored without words?

For what is this blog without words?
Confessions of Confection.

It’s an empty shell of what I envision it to be; La Pêche Fraîche started because I had so much to ~~complain about~~ say, and because people generally only respond favorably to such whining when it is accompanied by dessert.
(I’m kidding, of course—in reality, the whining came after the desserts.)

Most of the posts of which I am proudest (oh, say, here, here, here, or here, if you want to hear me ~~toot my horn~~ tout my writing. Toot toot) came pouring out with a tumble of emotions and little in the way of the forceful tugging I now must do.

Fo now, each paragraph is another stubborn tooth to be pulled from the bleeding gums of my mind, and rather than satisfying as it is laid on the page, it leaves a gaping hole of limp disappointment.
(My recent experience with wisdom teeth has given me an exquisitely clear understanding of such pain.)

Ugh stop looking at me like that.
I knew I shouldn’t have used that analogy.

And look here, now, somehow I have managed to produce more volume of self-indulgent grousing than literally everything else I have written lately combined.
How very me.

But there is cake, people!
Not just cake, there is a great feat of sugar that demands to be spoken about, a great big fat pink elephant in the ~~room~~ post.

This is a cake for crazy people.

I’m serious. But let me explain.

Before I even try to explain the ridiculousness of this cake, scroll way, way, way down to the recipe/ingredient list.
That should give you a head start on shaking your head.

I think I have carpal tunnel just from typing that monstrosity.

7 main components, here:
mocha mayonnaise cake
quark whipped cream filling
cherries marinated in kirsch
chocolate cherry macarons, filled with
whipped ganache
cherry italian meringue buttercream
ganache glaze

Yaaaaaagh.

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If you’re anything like my brothers, hearing the word mayonnaise in the same sentence as cake will cause you to wrinkle your nose, put your fork down, and push your plate away à la Calvin and Hobbes.

But!
Mayo is just emulsified eggs, oil, salt, and vinegar (I should know, I just made a huge batch with my immersion blender for my dad’s birthday dinner. I added black truffle oil. Divine!), which are already in a cake.
The addition of mayo makes this cake super tender and soft, with a light, tight crumb. Perfect for sky-high layers.
Adding strong coffee makes the cake deeply chocolaty, with a bitterness that offsets the rest of the sugar marvelously.

The quark whipped cream filling tastes like a lightened up cheesecake, slightly tangy and quite fluffy.
It’s far more interesting than the classic whipped cream, which is a bit one note.
(Quark is like a cross between a farmer’s cheese and crème fraiche, and you could sub half as much cream cheese without the need to press the moisture out.)

In Germany, it’s illegal to call a cake Black Forest (Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte) if it doesn’t contain kirsch (kirschwasser).
With that in mind, fat, fresh cherries, pitted and halved and seeping sweet red juice are gently cooked in kirsch and sugar, until they have soaked up all the flavor and released their juice.
The resultant boozy cherries are drained of their juice and nestled in the whipped cream along with chocolate macaron shells; the juice is gently brushed over the cakes to add extra moisture.

Then, the juice is reduced to a sticky, bright red kirsch syrup, which is poured into a whipped, glossy Italian meringue buttercream, adding a blush of color and delicate kirsch/cherry flavor.

Chocolate macarons, crisp on the outside, yield to reveal fudgy whipped bittersweet chocolate ganache and a rubied center of tart cherry jam, which is a fruity suprise.

Fresh cherries, bittersweet chocolate glaze, more whipped quark, and the macs top this cake; the decoration reminds me of a banana split or an ice cream cake—cute and whimsical!

You can make it in steps: up to a week before assembling, make the cake layers. Wrap them in a double layer of plastic wrap and a layer of aluminum foil and freeze them; take them out of the freezer and put them in the fridge the day before you assemble the cake.
Make the cherries in kirsch up to 3 days before; just store them in the juice, then drain them the day you assemble the cake to brush the layers and reduce to syrup.
Make the macaron shells up to a week before; store them in an airtight container and assemble a few cookie sandwiches for decorating the day before you put the cake before, so they can age and mingle with the fillings.
Make the ganache the day before you assemble the cake; to whip it for the macaron filling, simply let it come completely to room temperature before beating; for the glaze, gently warm it in 5 second bursts in the microwave until it is melted and shiny again.
The day of, drain the cherries and brush the cake layers with the unreduced juice. Reduce it to syrup and make the cherry Italian meringue buttercream.
Whip up your super quick quark filling (say that 10 times fast), and build your cake.

If you plan ahead, you can do it.
Or, pick and choose which components you want to use!
For a simpler cake, use the chocolate layers, the filling, and the cherries: dust the top layer with powdered sugar and you still have quite an impressive cake.

I expect there are a fair amount of people who have closed the tab and are now wondering whether it is ethical to continue reading, thereby encouraging the continuation of, a blog run by a mentally unstable individual.

This cake is an undertaking. But dare I say it’s worth it?
My family—especially my dad, who made a quiet, simple request for black forest or German chocolate and received this enormous pink confection in answer—loved it.

It’s a project, and it will leave your kitchen dusted with a fine layer of cocoa powder and flour and splattered with enough cherry juice to look like a murder scene.
But it also leaves you with a boozy, chocolaty, pink cake, surrounded by happy, contented people, and that, my friends, is reason enough alone.

Gâteau de Forêt Noire
cake portion adapted from Sweetapolita
macaron portion adapted from Annie’s Eats
cherries in kirsch adapted from Call me Cupcake
makes 1 8-inch 3-layer cake

ingredients:
for the chocolate cherry macarons:
100 grams confectioner’s sugar
100 grams almond flour
12 grams cocoa powder
170 grams egg whites, divided into two 85 gram portions
120 grams sugar
80 grams water
pinch salt
whipped ganache, recipe below
good quality cherry jam

for the chocolate ganache (whipped and glaze portions):
100 grams (3.5 ounces) dark chocolate, chopped
100 grams (1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons) heavy cream
1 tablespoon corn syrup (optional)
pinch salt

for the mocha mayonnaise cake:
170 grams (3/4 cup, 1 1/2 sticks) butter, soft
460 grams (2 cups packed) brown sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons kosher salt
2 egg yolks
2 eggs
220 grams (1 3/4 cups) flour
90 grams (3/4 cup) cocoa powder
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
180 mL (3/4 cup) milk
180 mL (3/4 cup) coffee
60 mL (1/4 cup) mayonnaise

for the cherries in kirsch:
275 grams cherries, weighed pits and all
1/4 cup kirsch
1/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

for the cherry Italian meringue buttercream:
reserved (reduced) cherry kirsch juice, recipe above
2 egg whites
115 grams (a smidge more than 1/2 cup) sugar
big pinch kosher salt
30 grams (2 tablespoons) water
220 grams (2 sticks, 1 cup) butter, diced and cool
1 drop red food coloring, optional

for the whipped quark filling:
227 grams (8 ounces) quark
360 mL (1 1/2) cups heavy cream
100 grams (3/4 cup) powdered sugar

to assemble:
fresh cherries

directions:
First, make the macarons (can/should be done 1 day ahead): sift confectioner’s sugar, almond flour, and cocoa powder together.
Discard the large pieces of almond flour that don’t fit through the sieve.
Add one 85 gram portion of egg whites to the sifted ingredients and stir very well until a thick, uniform paste forms; set aside.
Prepare 2 baking sheets with parchment and a pastry bag with a large round tip; preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Place the other 85 gram portion of egg whites into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment with a pinch of cream of tartar or a drop of vinegar.
Place the sugar, water, and a pinch of salt into a small pot; fit the mixture with a candy thermometer.
Begin to heat the syrup on medium heat; when the temperature reaches 180 degrees, begin to whip the egg whites; when it reaches 220, the egg whites should be approaching soft peaks; at 240, they should be at soft peaks.
Remove the syrup from the heat when it reaches 245 degrees F; pour it, carefully, into the whipping egg whites, being careful not to splatter the whisk attachment with hot syrup (aim for the side of the bowl).
Allow the meringue to whip until it is glossy and stiff-peaked, about 3 minutes.
Take 1/4 of the meringue and stir it vigorously into the almond paste, to lighten the stiff paste somewhat.
Add the rest of the meringue and carefully begin to fold the mixture together.
Stop the macaronage when the mixture flows like lava/makes a ribbon/reabsorbs a blob after 10 seconds.
Fill the prepared pastry bag and pipe out small macarons on both of the sheets.
Place the first sheet in the oven and reduce the temperature to 325 degrees F.
Bake until a cookie lifts off of the sheet cleanly, about 12-15 minutes.
Raise the oven temperature once more and place the second sheet in the oven; reduce the oven temp and bake as before.
Allow the cookies to cool completely.
Make the ganache: place the chocolate, corn syrup, and salt in a bowl and heat the cream to just before boiling, either in the microwave or on the stovetop.
Once the cream is hot, pour it over the chopped chocolate and leave it to sit for 2 minutes.
Gently begin to whisk; continue until the mixture comes together in a glossy, shiny glaze.
Place half of the ganache aside for glazing the finished cake and the other half in the fridge to cool.
Once the chilled portion is significantly thickened and cool to touch (but not solid!), whip it with a hand or stand mixer until it is fluffy and lightened in color, about 2 minutes.
Set aside 1/2 of the shells to layer inside the cake; pair up all the other shells.
To fill the cookies, place a heaping teaspoon of ganache on one shell; gently scoop out a tiny divot in the center and fill it with 1/4-1/2 teaspoon of cherry jam.
Sandwich the cookies and refrigerate overnight before eating or using in the cake.
Make the mocha mayonnaise cake: grease and flour 3 8-inch round pans and preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Place soft butter, kosher salt, and brown sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment and beat on high for 5 minutes, until very light and shiny.
Add in the egg yolks and eggs and beat for another 3 minutes; scrape the sides of the bowl.
Whisk flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and baking powder together.
Whisk coffee, milk, and apple cider vinegar together.
With the mixer running on medium, add in the wet and dry ingredients, alternating and beginning with dry.
Beat for 30 seconds after everything is added to ensure homogeneity.
Scrape the sides of the bowl and add in the mayonnaise; mix on low speed for 30 seconds until the mixture is homogeneous once more.
Portion out the batter into the pans and bake for 22-25 minutes, until a tester comes out with only a few crumbs and the tops are springy.
Remove from oven and let cool 10 minutes in the pans, then turn out of the pans and cool completely.
Make the cherries in kirsch: halve and pit cherries and place in a sauce pot with kirsch, vinegar, and sugar.
Cook on medium heat for 15 minutes until the cherries have released their juice and are soft but not mushy.
Remove from heat and allow to cool completely.
Once cool, drain the cherries from the juice (save the juice!!).
Poke holes all over the bottoms of the cakes (these will become the tops) with a toothpick, then gently brush with a little of the cherry juice—you want to flavor the cake, but not soak it.
Place the remaining cherry juice back into the pot and heat over low heat until simmering; allow to reduce to 3 tablespoons of liquid, about 2/3 of the original volume; reserve this syrup.
Make the cherry Italian meringue buttercream: place egg whites in the bowl of a stand mixer.
Place water, salt, and sugar in a small pot over medium heat fitted with a candy thermometer.
When the temperature reaches 180 degrees, begin to whip the egg whites; when it reaches 220, the egg whites should be approaching soft peaks; at 240, they should be at soft peaks.
Remove the syrup from the heat when it reaches 245 degrees F; pour it, carefully, into the whipping egg whites, being careful not to splatter the whisk attachment with hot syrup (aim for the side of the bowl).
Allow the meringue to whip until it is glossy and stiff-peaked and cooler, about 4 minutes.
Add in the cool butter a tablespoon at a time, whipping on high speed the entire time.
Whip until the mixture becomes fluffy and shiny and homogeneous (keep whipping if it appears to curdle—you simply haven’t beaten it long enough, don’t worry!), about 4 minutes.
Drizzle in the reduced cherry syrup and (optionally) add 1 drop of red food coloring if you want the frosting more pink than purple.
Make the quark whipped cream filling: On a bed of paper towels (use 3 on the bottom and two on top) scrape 3/4 of the quark and press down lightly; the towels will absorb the excess moisture.
Meanwhile, begin to whip the heavy cream and powdered sugar, with a whisk attachment or an immersion blender.
Once the whipped cream reaches stiff peaks, gently mix in the thickened quark.
Place in the fridge to cool and thicken before assembling the cake; reserve 1/3 cup for piping on top of the cake.
To assemble, place the first cake layer (juice soaked side up) on a cake stand.
Add half of the remaining quark filling , spreading so that the center is depressed; arrange half of the drained cherries in a single layer on the cake.
Top with the next layer; spread the rest of the whipped cream but reserve 1/4 cup.
Top with the rest of the cherries and a layer of the reserved macaron shells.
Spread the reserved 1/4 cup of whipped cream over the macaron shells and top with the last cake layer.
Refrigerate for at least 20 minutes before crumb coating.
Spread on a thin crumb coat of the cherry frosting, being careful to seal in the whipped cream between the layers.
Refrigerate for at least 20 more minutes.
Frost the cake with the rest of the cherry frosting, then place back in the fridge.
Gently heat the reserved ganache, either in a double boiler or in the microwave in 5 second bursts.
Heat until it has loosened up again, whisk until it is shiny and glossy.
Remove the cake from the fridge and carefully drizzle the ganache around the edges.
Place the reserved quark whipped cream in a pastry bag fitted with a star tip and pipe 8 stars evenly around the cake.
Place 4 fresh cherries on 4 of the stars and 4 assembled macarons on the others.
Enjoy your hard earned cake!

May 20, 2014May 22, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Mellow As the Month

Mellow as May might be, the end of this month holds much serious significance in my life.

“Many things have changed, some for the better, some the worse.

People have moved in and out of my life;

things I always took for granted as constants fell away: cliffs sheared off, leaving me teetering on the edge;

new experiences, new relationships, have nested snugly, precariously, on the crags and crannies left behind;

triumphs have been trumpeted, flags left proudly waving on distant planets;

losses have been suffered, sending me cowering in a corner, covered with tears and blood;

I survived even those which I thought I could not.”

–from Merry Happy, last year’s blogiversary post

It is my brother’s birthday (last year’s cake); it’s this blog’s birthday; it’s the anniversary of Chris’ death.

I cannot believe that in two days it will have been a year.
It will have been a whole year since that dark, blinding night.

Chris, you are dearly beloved and missed.
The people whose lives you touched are all the better for it, will never forget it, will always be grateful.

It is quiet around this blog lately. I am busy. I am trying to balance.
This, you know. I’ve made that abundantly clear with all my whining and whinging.

Still, exams be damned, count on a big, delicious cake for my second (?!!?) blogiversary, marking the third year of La Pêche Fraîche.
Also on the docket: pie and two types of cupcakes and more cake. Always, cake.

These are dark chocolate coffee pots de crème.

The recipe is so so easy and quick– no bake, gluten-free, and perfect when hit with a little extra salt and powdered sugar over top.

The recipe is from the Pioneer Woman (oh, dear, wonderful, hilarious Ree), and I’ll leave you with a link if you’d like to check it out.

Here. I skipped the orange and topped mine with unsweetened whipped cream and Maldon sea salt.

It comes with high recommendation from me and praise from my taste testers!

P.S. Like the beautiful stationary that I used in the background of this post?
Check out Mockingbird Paperie. They’re fab!

May 11, 2014September 11, 2014 by Rachel Sally

Swimmingly

Promise me
you will not spend so much time treading water and
trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget,
truly forget, how much
you have always loved to swim.

–Tyler Knott Gregson

I’ve had a shit week.

A shit fucking week. Actually, the last two weeks have been pretty fucking terrible.
I think. I find it difficult to pinpoint exactly what I want to complain about.

Clearly, something is wrong, because this is unheard of.
I can make whine out of, well, nothing.

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Busy. Running running running can’t stop. Balance. One toe, two toes, one fine wire.
Teeter, totter, fall on my ass. Climb back up and repeat with markedly diminishing grace.
It never ends, this race to the finish. I’m sick and I’m fucking tired and I don’t want to run anymore.
I don’t want to bother with the balance and the business and the busyness.

Doors are slamming shut left and right; doors slam shut right in my face. Fine. Fuck you, too.
I didn’t want to come in anyways; happy to stand in the soaking spring rain.
Happy to keep myself company in my confused, delighted misery.

The words don’t come, don’t flow, don’t exist.
The sentences have dissipated, dissolved, disappeared.
My brain is a microcosm of unproductive stagnant energy; it refuses to spit out even the shortest string of words, preferring instead to brood in dark, dank spaces that exist far below the surface.

I miss this stupid, time-consuming blog so very dearly.
Posts await, impatiently, glaringly unwritten but filled with photos and sugar and longing.
Why can’t I write? Where are the words that so easily filled pages just months ago?

I miss my family.
Even the words meant for them, short snippets of text messages, have slowed.
Can’t find what to say. Utterly foreign for a needy, demanding, over-sharer.

I miss home, but that’s a given.

Stretched too thin.
The sum total is too great: two major art/food projects, four classes spanning two majors, one new and important person, three incredibly important friends with as much on their plates as mine, one blog, one body, one mind to hold it all in.

I’m happy, I’m sad. I feel things deeply and profoundly.
Cry while listening to the Civil Wars–listen to them a lot, on repeat, even– and squeal while watching baby bunnies hop around–too few this spring, too few after a harsh winter.
Cry while thinking about my grandfather; cry and laugh, delighted, at his memorial.
Giddy while holding hands and smile while my hair is gently smoothed back from my face.
Sadness, anger, and regret all stab deeply into my stony heart, just as satisfaction, peace, and joy buoy me upwards, make me light as air and malleable as clay. Ballooned upward, only to be popped by a pin that feels more like a baseball bat.

But thank the gods that I do feel.
A very wise woman said sadness is raw skin, painful and present.
Depression is a down parka, muffling and silencing, blocking and numbing life.
Fuck those stupid fucking “Depression Hurts” commercials.
Depression dulls; sadness hurts– sadness feels.

And oh!– do I feel.

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Wake up–Friday–sheets already sticking sticking stuck to sweaty skin. Wake up, drool smeared up one cheek and into one ear; wake up feeling disgusting but alive, so alive. Sick of being refrigerated anyways. Grateful for the sweet breeze.

The heat and soupy humidity and smell of rain in the air set my soul to singing.
Spring reminds me to live. Reminds me not to let a single moment escape unnoticed, unappreciated.
Spring refuses to let me crawl back under my winter parka, refuses to let me burrow deep and hibernate.

Spring is life. Life in bloom.

Open eyes, breathe deep, smile, cry, whatever the fuck this feeling is at this moment, and embrace it. Own it.

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These photos are a little preview of an article I wrote for a fabulous food magazine here on campus, Nonpareil.

Stoked to work with them. I had a super fun interview over coffee with their lovely editor, Jenny.
Reading the article she wrote, I was a touch embarrassed but crazy flattered. It’s an exciting feeling, to be sure.

To my UChicago readers, I do hope you’ll pick up a copy when it’s published. (Translation: pick one up and read it cover to cover or else.)
To my other readers, sucks to suck. Just kidding. I’m sharing the recipe here so you can be included, too.

This cake takes the traditional American birthday cake– yellow, with chocolate buttercream, and elevates it ever so slightly.

Buttery yellow coconut cake, gently scented with coconut oil, with threads of coconut and egg yolks creating the tenderest and softest of crumbs.
Salted chocolate buttercream, whipped and fluffy, rich with deep, dark, fruity chocolate cocoa powder and enhanced with a pinch of espresso powder and three pinches of salt.
Blackberries, tart and juicy, pair gorgeously– they play a perfect foil for the heaps of butter and chocolate, and add a fresh, lively element to the cake.

You could substitute raspberries very easily, light coconut milk in the cake batter, and coconut cream in the frosting, as well.
You do, however, need the bittersweet chocolate. It’s the key to getting a truly chocolaty buttercream.

This has birthday cake written all over it.

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P.S. Happy mother’s day. My mama and my grandmas are true inspirations.
(HI GRANDMA shout out to you, I know you’re reading this. You’re the BEST and I miss you dearly. Hope you got my cards and letters– did I put enough stamps on?– Love you SO much. I will call you later today, but I expect an email about 5 minutes after you finish reading this…)

My mama inspires me to work hard; she teaches me to balance on the thin wire of life and not take shit from idiots.
She reminds me to let little things go and not let myself be bullied by the patriarchy.
She comforts me when I’m down– “fuck them”– and makes me laugh with pictures of my badly behaved cats– again, “fuck them”.
She begs me to not be like her, but I know I am my mother’s daughter.
And I am blessed for it.

I love you, mama. See you in a few weeks.

A Grown-Up Birthday Cake

ingredients:
for the yellow coconut cake:
200 grams (1 2/3 cups) flour
2 1/8 teaspoons baking powder
85 grams (6 tablespoons) butter
30 grams (2 tablespoons) coconut oil
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
200 grams (1 cup) sugar
4 egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
180 grams (3/4 cup) reduced-fat milk
3/4 cup desiccated coconut, optional

for the salted chocolate buttercream:
50 grams (2 ounces) bittersweet chocolate, chopped
315 grams (2 3/4 sticks) butter
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon espresso powder, optional
110 to 140 grams (4 to 5 cups) powdered sugar, sifted
50 grams (1/2 cup) cocoa powder, sifted
30 to 60 grams (2 tablespoons to 1/4 cup) heavy cream

to assemble:
blackberries
powdered sugar, for dusting

directions:
Make the cake: preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Butter and flour 3 6-inch pans or 2 8-inch pans
Stir together flour and baking powder.
Cream butter and coconut oil with salt for 3 full minutes.
Add the sugar in a stream and cream for 4 more minutes (set a timer).
Scrape the sides of the bowl and add in the egg yolks and vanilla extract.
Beat for 3 more minutes.
Scrape the bowl; while mixing slowly, alternate adding in the flour mix and the milk, beginning and ending with the dry.
Stir in the coconut.
Scrape the batter into the prepared pans.
Bake for 22-25 minutes, until golden and springy to the touch.
A tester should come out nearly clean, with just a few crumbs sticking to it.
Allow to cool completely.

Make the frosting: melt the chocolate in a double boiler or very gently in a microwave; set aside to cool.
Beat butter, espresso powder, and salt on high for 5-7 minutes, until very fluffy and nearly white.
While whipping, slowly stream in the cooled chocolate; beat for another minute until homogeneous.
Scrape the sides of the bowl and sift the powdered sugar and cocoa over the butter.
Starting slowly to prevent sugar explosions, beat in the sugar and cocoa.
As the frosting begins to come together, stream in the cream, starting with 2 tablespoons and increasing if the frosting is still too stiff.

Assemble the cake: level your cake layers with a serrated knife if they are uneven; brush crumbs off gently.
Place the first cake layer on a serving plate; spread with 1/4 cup of frosting and top with the second layer.
Spread the second layer with 1/3 cup of frosting and press a few blackberries on.
Smooth more frosting over the blackberries so that the layer is even, then top with the third cake layer.
Use 1/2 cup-2/3 cup of the frosting to create an even, thin crumb coat.
Refrigerate crumb-coated cake for at least 30 minutes.
Once chilled, use the remaining frosting to cover the cake as desired.

September 12, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Charred

To be honest, more than charred, I’m fried.

I’m dragging my feet, so much so that the edges of my toes are burned and my shoes have holes in them.

Or, they would, if I were wearing shoes. The past two days, it has been scorchingly hot.

Like, dash-reads-100-degrees hot.

Like, yes-absolutely-let’s-go-to-the-grocery-store-it-has-AC hot.

Like, why-the-f@&#-did-I-turn-on-the-oven hot.

It’s cooled down, now.

This morning/midday was Sahara desert-esque (right when I was making ratatouille AND savoiardi like wat why me), but this afternoon and evening…

Well, holy monsoon Batman!!

All that rain practically sizzled off of the sidewalks, but eventually drowned out the heat.

I mean, phew, cause I’ve started cooking with apples and pears already, and there’s no turning back.

I just ain’t got time for no more summer, let me tell you.

Ah, yes. What am I dragging my feet for, you say?

Well, I have 9 8 more days left here in Ith, and I haven’t started packing!!

I have shit to do, guys! And I can’t bring myself to do it.

It’s just like, ugh, it’s so hot and like I don’t really want to think about like organization and fitting my closet into my dorm room, let alone my kitchen.

Those are the two largest entities in my house.

Because, yes!

Surprise (or, rather, less than a surprise) surprise, this blog is not stopping here.

I’ll have access to a kitchen…

Which means baking and blogging and sugar and butter and flour.

Comin’ at yo face.

In turn, this means that I have to make a packing list for normal living things- linens, clothing, cosmetics, decor, etc., but also for kitchen supplies.

I can’t bear to think of the beloved appliances I’ll have to leave behind.

Examples: my ice cream behemoth machine

my pro WOLF convection oven

my big food processor

my stand blender

copper pots, wok, little pots, little saucepans, omelette pan, panini pan, roasting pan, all MY PANS

random prop materials- china, silverware, fabrics, wooden pieces, marble, much of my mason jar collection

… Pour one out for da homiez. Seriously.

On a less dour note, this is a lovely little charlotte that I’m sharing today.

Get it?!?!?! Charlotte- charred

…

No? Damn, and I thought I was being a clever little monkey. (Insert that cute emoji here, you know the one, the little monkey with its little hands over its mouth.)

A charlotte is a molded cake, usually with savoiardi, or ladyfingers, around the outside.

(There are a few variations on what is on the exterior.)

Where the imagination and difference comes in is the interior.

You could make a charlotte with literally any flavor or idea.

I chose tiramisù, because ladyfingers.

And because I had never made tiramisù before.

It’s incredibly simple- just 3 components to the dish- savoiardi, coffee/liqueur to soak, and a cream/zabaglione/mascarpone mixture to add richness.

So simple, in fact, that I undertook to make my own ladyfingers, which may seem imposing, but are, in actuality, very simple.

This is a cookie that’s been around for 600 or so years. How hard can it be? Fo’ realz.

On the inside is a classic tiramisù, except that I used whiskey, which is, erm… not traditional.

But to hell with it. Use whatever liqueur tickles your fancy.

The ladyfingers are sponge cake’s sister, just piped out.

They’re layered with coffee/whiskey/vanilla (can I have that as my morning pick-me-up?!) and a deeeeelicious mascarpone/heavy cream/zabaglione mixture (wait no I want that…), topped with a mountain of raspberries, then chilled until set.

Wrap a ribbon around the whole shebang and give it to someone as a present!

HA just kidding.

Untie the ribbon, cut yourself a fat wedge, watch the raspberries tumble out like so many ruby jewels, and MANGIA!

Tiramisù Charlotte
makes 1 6×3 inch cake
note: brew some strong coffee before starting, then allow it to cool. If you are making ladyfingers, make those right after the coffee and let them cool as well. You can always use store-bought.
for the savoiardi (ladyfingers):
makes 1 1/2 sheet pans of 4×1 inch savoiardi
ingredients:
3.5 egg yolks (1/2 yolk is approximately 1 1/2 teaspoons, or 0.3 ounce)
3 tablespoons sugar
3.5 egg whites (1/2 white is approximately 1 tablespoon, or 0.5 ounce)
pinch cream of tartar
4 tablespoons plus 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar
3/4 cup cake flour
directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Draw out 4×1 inch grids on two sheets of parchment paper; place them on two sheet pans, pencil or pen side down.
Have a pastry bag fitted with a 1 inch tip at the ready.
Place the egg yolks in a bowl with 3 tablespoons of sugar.
Place the egg whites in the bowl of a stand mixer with the cream of tartar.
Whip the egg yolks briskly (or with a hand mixer) until they become pale, thick, and double in size.
Meanwhile, whip the egg whites, slowly streaming in 4 tablespoons plus 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar once they begin to foam.
Beat the egg whites until they hold stiff peaks.
Sift the cake flour over the egg yolks, but don’t mix in, then fold the egg whites into the egg yolk/flour until homogenous; be careful not to overmix.
Place into pastry bag and pipe out finger shapes, approximately 4×1 inch tall/wide. (They will touch each other during baking.)
Bake for 8-10 minutes, until they are golden and puffy but not particularly hard. (They should not feel raw or look runny, but should still be slightly spongy to the touch.)
Remove from oven and allow to cool completely.

for the mascarpone cream:
adapted from Chef Dennis via Bake and Bait
ingredients:
3 egg yolks
3 tablespoons sugar
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons mascarpone
scant cup heavy cream
directions:
Whisk yolks and sugar together very well; place in a small pot over low heat and cook until sugar is completely dissolved.
Remove from heat, pour into a different bowl, and whip until thick and about doubled in size.
Whisk in mascarpone.
In a separate bowl, whip the heavy cream to stiff peaks, then fold it into the zabaglione/mascarpone mixture.
Set in fridge until ready to use (but not for too long; an hour at most before you should use it).

to assemble:
ingredients:
1/4 cup coffee, cold but strong
1 tablespoon liqueur (Marsala, Kahlua, etc. Go nuts.)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
cocoa powder, for dusting
1 pint of raspberries, optional
mascarpone cream, recipe above
ladyfingers (about 30 small ones, less if you have larger), either store bought or homemade, recipe above
directions:
Line a 6×3 inch pan with ladyfingers standing upright.
Place a cake board in the bottom, then place as many ladyfingers as can fit along the bottom, using torn pieces to fill in gaps.
Stir the coffee, liqueur, and vanilla together.
Using a pastry brush, lightly brush the coffee mixture over the ladyfingers- they should absorb it, but do not add so much that they are soaked.
Smooth 1/3 of the cream mixture onto the soaked ladyfingers.
Layer more ladyfingers over the cream mixture, brush with coffee, and layer with cream.
Repeat layering once more.
Dust the top of the tiramisu with cocoa powder, and top with raspberries, if desired.
Refrigerate for at least 1 1/2 hours before unmolding.
Tie a ribbon around the outside for clean presentation.
Enjoy!

March 14, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Call Me Sally

So, I’m Irish.

Actually, I’m Korirish.

Korean on my mother’s side, and Irish on my father’s.

Bit of a strange mix, to be sure.

The one thing my family has figured that the two have in common is a love of cabbage.

This love has distilled into my passion for cruciferous vegetables.

Cauliflower, cabbage, brussels sprouts (I’m eating some right now, actually, with apples and goat cheese), broccoli, bok choy, kale; pretty much a comprehensive list of my favorite vegetables.

Love me some Brassica.

Um, not that I’m here to tell you about vegetables.

That’s not really my shtick, at least not on this here blog.

Oh! What the Koreans and the Irish also both love is beer.

(Cabbage+beer sounds like the most terrible and smelly hangover in the world waiting to happen.)

So due to the fact that St. Patrick’s Day is on Sunday and my Korean grandmother is visiting, I made cake. With beer.

Beer cake.

With homemade Bailey’s cream sandwiched between each layer.

Yeah, it is as much of a good thing as it sounds like.
Trust me on this one.

Now, it’s not the most traditional of Irish confections… But I’m certain it would be met with a hearty seal of approval in Ireland.

There’s browned Kerrygold butter, extra rich and nutty thanks to the higher fat content.

There’s Guinness, deep and dark, which adds a noticeable complexity to the cake.

There’s milk chocolate and coffee whipped cream, with a hefty dose of Bushmills whiskey.

There’s meringue, which actually is a well-loved Irish dessert.

Whether my ancestors are rolling in their graves, I know not.

Some fun facts about my Irish side:

“Sally,” actually, saileach, means willow in Gaelic.

There’s a barren field in Ireland called the Sally Gap- real talk, I’ve even been there.

It’s full of tumbleweeds and not much else.

Super. Exciting.

In 1908, John Sally, my great-great-grandfather, and his family immigrated to America.

Yadda yadda yadda.

Sally Gap Cake:

for the cake:

adapted from Nigella

ingredients:

1/2 cup Guinness

5 tablespoons Kerrygold butter (or other European butter)

3 tablespoons extra dark cocoa powder

1 cup sugar

3 tablespoons sour cream

1 egg

big honking splash vanilla extract (about 2 teaspoons)

1 cup AP flour

1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda

directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Grease and flour two 6-inch pans (I suspect 1 shallow 9- or 10- inch would work as well, but I’m not promising anything).

Brown the butter in a large saucepot.

Once it is fragrant and nutty, stir in the Guinness.

Allow to cook for 30 seconds, then remove from heat.

Stir in the sugar and cocoa powder.

Add the sour cream and vanilla and whisk well; add in the egg while whisking.

Dump the flour and baking soda on top of the wet ingredients (flour first), then whisk them in until a smooth batter forms.

Pour into prepared pans; bake for 35-38 minutes, until risen and firm to the touch; a toothpick should come out CLEAN (this is an extremely moist cake and if underbaked will be gooey).

for the mock Bailey’s cream filling:

ingredients:

1 1/4 cups heavy cream

1/4 teaspoon gelatin

1 small bar (I used regular ole Hershey’s) milk chocolate, melted

1 teaspoon espresso powder

pinch salt

2 splashes Irish whiskey

directions:

Sprinkle the gelatin over the cream and allow to sit for 1 minute.

Mix the cream with the espresso powder and salt, and whip to stiff peaks.

Add in the whiskey and milk chocolate and mix until fluffy and homogeneous.

for the chocolate frosting:

ingredients:

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled slightly

2 sticks of butter

2 cups confectioners’ sugar

pinch salt

2 teaspoons vanilla

1/4 cup cream

directions:

Put everything in a food processor and pulse until homogeneous.

for the Swiss meringue:

ingredients:

1 egg white

1/4 cup sugar

directions:

Put the white and sugar in a metal mixing bowl and place over a pan of simmering water.

Heat, whisking all the while, until mixture reaches 160 degrees F.

Remove from heat and whip on high until a stiff meringue forms, about 5 minutes.

Use immediately, as meringue will harden sooner than later.

Torch after decorating, if desired.

to assemble:

Torte the two layers; fill each with 1/3 of the bailey’s cream.
Frost the outside of the cake with the chocolate frosting; to smooth, use a warmed knife.

Mound the meringue in the center and torch it.

For the cleanest cuts, chill the cake slightly before cutting.

February 8, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

A Wise Man Once Said

My dearest readers, I have some frightening exciting news to share with you.

For the next four months or so, I will be embarking on a foray deep into the world of modernist cuisine AKA molecular gastronomy.

My best description goes something like this: modernist cuisine and molecular gastronomy sit squarely, and comfortably, at the crossroads of food, science, and art.

This weak explanation is strengthened by examples; the most highly sought-after and rated restaurants in the world, e.g. the late El Bulli, the Fat Duck, Alinea, wd-50, etc., are based in molecular gastronomy. These chefs are the best in the world, and they utilize precise techniques and unique flavor pairings to create transcendental dining experiences.

“But why,” say you?

This is a school assignment, that’s why.

A very unorthodox school assignment.

I am a second-semester senior in WISE English, a course which allows seniors to conduct sixteen weeks of independent study and research, in a field of their choosing.

Obviously, I chose dessert above all else.

Thus, I find myself making spreadsheets of costs of compounds like hydroxypropyl methylcellulose and calcium lactate gluconate, poring over endless lists of strange flavor combinations, and freezing and re-freezing my ice cream maker’s bowl.

There are many so-called “molecular gastronomy” techniques, but modernist cuisine is not all about tricks and chemicals. Much comes from the presentation of the food. Not every dish has to contain manipulated foodstuffs, but every plate has to be aesthetic.

Not to mention taste good!

I’m beyond excited. And terrified.

I currently have around 10 pounds of food-grade chemicals being shipped to my house. I have hemispherical molds and glucose and carbonated sugar and a .01 gram accuracy scale.

I think I’m ready; I’ve done my best to prepare myself.

I know that not everything will go the way I want it to, or the way it’s supposed to (see: my pitiful quenelles in these pictures. What is that strange pointy thing on the end?!? I haven’t the faintest.)

My goal is to have created many a fanciful and delicious composed dessert: not just a slice of cake or hunk of chocolate thrown on a plate with a schmear of sauce. I want to make high-quality restaurant desserts.

I want to push myself to try out as many techniques as I can: spherification, gelation, dehydration, carbonation, smoking, foams, making powders, etc. etc.

Sixteen weeks isn’t as much time as one would think; I’ll have to work quickly and in a timely manner.

So what does this mean for La Pêche Fraîche? Why am I even telling you this?

Because once a week, I will be sharing my thoughts, failures, and endeavors on this here blog, using it as part of my project journal.

This is not to say that my regular sweets won’t stick around; I’ll still post cookies and cakes and more pedestrian fare, but don’t be shocked when you click through and see something that doesn’t even look like food.

Whatever panic you might feel at that moment, rest assured that I’m feeling 10 times more.

I’m so glad to be sharing this with y’all. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Without any further ado, here’s my first shot at a composed dessert.

“Carly Simon”

espresso, chocolate, meyer lemon

(components, from base layer upwards)

bittersweet chocolate ganache

meyer lemon curd

firm chocolate and coffee grind “ganache” cubes

dark chocolate butter cookies

crumbled meyer lemon meringues

espresso ice cream with whipped cream “clouds” frozen in

fried meyer lemon zest

mocha dust

In the future, recipes will accompany. Right now, I’m just about ready to close this introductory post up, and that is just what I shall do.

January 13, 2013September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Did Someone Say…

…donuts?!? (er… doughnuts?)

Why, yes, I done did.

Three types of donuts, in fact: brown-butter maple bacon, Vietnamese coffee (cinnamon+coffee), and cherry-chocolate.

Now, I’ve always been leery of frying. It’s a lot of hot, burbling oil, which makes me nervous.

I’ve sustained many burns in the kitchen over the years, and ones from oil splatters are the second worse, trumped only by sugar burns.

But… and this is an important but… I’ve wanted to make real donuts for ages.

I finally decided to man up and get down with deep frying, with my dearest stomach readers in mind.

These donuts are miraculously puffy and soft little pillows of dough wrapped in just-barely crispy edges and sweet, sticky glaze.

I decided to make a decidedly clichéd maple-bacon donut, using my absolute favorite glaze of all-time… brown-butter/maple/cider. Ohmagah. Once all the donuts were glazed, I couldn’t help myself. Sneak a dip, lick, repeat. Until the bowl was almost gone and my teeth were beginning to ache. So worth it, people. So worth it.

The second type I made was a chocolate-crémeux filled, cherry-glazed and pink heart adorned donut. I wanted it to be pink and include chocolate because, well, firstly, who doesn’t love cherry-chocolate, and secondly, for a Valentine’s baking article for my school newspaper.

I couldn’t just leave the poor little donut holes wallow in their teeny-tininess, could I? So I fried those lil guys up and chucked them into a bowl of coffee glaze and from there, a bowl of crunchy cinnamon sugar.

A successful morning, I’d say. I made the dough the night before and stuck it in my fridge, and the alluring smell of donuts filled my entire house by 11:00 the next morning, rousing any and all late sleepers. They were all gone by the next morning.

Mmmmm…. Donuts.

Yeast-Raised Doughnuts

recipe from the wonderfully decadent Pioneer Woman, Ree

ingredients:

1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon milk, warmed to 110 degrees F

2 tablespoons sugar

1 1/8 teaspoon (1/2 a regular package) yeast

1 egg

5 tablespoons butter, melted

2 cups flour

1/8 teaspoon salt

vegetable oil or shortening, for frying

directions:

Add sugar and yeast to warm milk and allow to proof for 5 minutes. Whisk the egg and butter together quickly to ensure that the egg doesn’t scramble. Add the egg/butter mixture and the yeast/milk mixture to the bowl of a standing mixer (with a dough hook) and mix together. Once mixed, add the flour in in 1/4 cup increments until all the flour is gone; add the salt sometime in the middle of adding the flour (not at the very beginning or the very end). Knead the dough on medium-low speed for 5 minutes, then turn the mixer off, scrape the bowl, and turn the mixer on medium-high for 30 seconds. Let the dough rest for 10 minutes, then place it in a lightly oiled bowl, toss to coat, and press plastic wrap directly onto its surface. Place in the fridge overnight (or 8 hours).

The next morning, take the dough out and place it on a lightly floured surface. Roll it out to 1/4 inch thickness, and working quickly, cut out as many rounds as you can. If the dough gets too warm and begins to shrink back, stick it back in the fridge for 10 minutes. Cut holes out of the rounds, unless you want to fill the donuts. Place all your rounds and holes onto a parchment lined baking sheet, cover lightly with a dish towel, and let rise in a warm place for about an hour, or until the doughnuts are visibly puffy and look fluffy.

Heat 3 inches of vegetable oil in a heavy, large pot (I used my dutch oven) until it reaches 375 degrees F.

Gently place the donuts in the oil and cook for 1 minute on each side. Remove with a slotted spoon to paper towels, and dab/blot/roll the donut around to remove as much oil as possible. Let cool slightly before glazing.

Remember to keep checking your oil’s temperature; do not let it get over 380 or below 365. 375 is the ideal temperature.

I used this glaze for the maple-bacon donuts, and topped them off with freshly cooked bacon.

For the Vietnamese Coffee donuts:

ingredients:

1 cup powdered sugar

pinch salt

splash of vanilla extract

1 heaping tablespoon instant espresso

3 tablespoons milk, or as needed to thin

3/4 cup sugar plus 1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon, for rolling

directions:

Dissolve the espresso into the milk. Stir in the vanilla and salt, then whisk in the powdered sugar. If the glaze is too thick, thin it with more milk. As your donuts (or donut holes) cool, dunk them in the glaze, then quickly roll them in the cinnamon sugar. You may want to wait for a few minutes after glazing to roll in the sugar, if your glaze is thin and drippy.

August 21, 2012September 13, 2013 by Rachel Sally

Send Help

Where the f@#% did August go?!

I want to face plant into this.

Sorry. I’m just so overwhelmed.
Suddenly it’s cool enough that I broke out the yoga pants again… Great. I’ll be wearing those for the next six months. Then, just maybe, my legs will see the sunlight.

I’ll be hibernating until next May, too, Sasha.

I don’t mean to be fatalistic, but I just finished up my last day at the lab where I’ve been working, and I was expecting to command Siri to open my calendar and to see weeks of free, unrepentant sleep and relaxation stretching out in my future, only to be shocked by what seemed to be a two digit date beginning with a 2…
Surely you jest, Siri. But nay, she assured me of the date.
Guys, it’s the twenty first of August…

Puff Daddy

What?!? (Why the face?)
I swear that I work in a time warp zone. It’s the opposite of school.
Every time I think or talk about it, I realize that I’m so unnerved that I am sure to waste away the rest of my summer whining about how little is left. Nothing will be able to comfort me.
Except maybe these buns.
Jussss keeding, I meant these buns!

This is what happens when I try to take a photograph from above.

Coffee-Chocolate Swirl Buns
Adapted from smittenkitchen
Ingredients:
For the dough:
240 mL milk, warmed to 100-115 degrees F
1 tablespoon espresso powder
90 g sugar
15 g yeast
1 large egg plus one egg yolk
375 g flour
3/4 tsp salt
70 g butter
For the swirl:
70 g butter
75 g sugar
12 ounces dark chocolate
Pinch salt
For the glaze: (I know this isn’t properly measured. Deal with it.)
Bit of chocolate
Splash of cream
Tiny pat of butter
Pinch of salt
Spoonful of espresso powder
Directions:
For the buns:
Bloom the yeast in the milk with 30 g of the sugar. Once foamy, stir in the espresso powder. Add to the bowl of a stand mixer with the dough hook attached, and add the eggs, rest of the sugar, and salt and mix around a bit. Slowly add in the flour. The dough should be super soft and form a “tornado” at the bottom of the bowl, i.e. not stick to the sides but stick at the bottom. Once the dough has come together, add in the softened butter and allow the dough hook to work that in. Place dough in a lightly oiled bowl with a slightly damp dish towel over it and place in a moderately warm and draft-free place to rise for an hour or so. Meanwhile, chop up your chocolate and mix it with the sugar, salt, and butter for your filling. You can do this in a food processor or by hand. It should be chunky and should crumble but also be nice and moist. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Once the dough has doubled in size, roll it out into a large rectangle and spread the filling all over it. Roll up the dough, and slice it (It’ll be very difficult, because the dough is so soft, but they’ll be covered in glaze so don’t worry.) and place each bun into greased muffin tins. Allow to rise for a little bit (30 ish minutes depending on the warmth of your kitchen), until they have puffed up a bit, then pop them in the oven for 30-35 minutes.
For the glaze:
Melt the chocolate, add a pinch of salt and the espresso powder, and a small pat of butter and a splash of cream, enough to make it a pourable consistency, and pour over your warm buns (lol).