A hearty hello to my fellow insomibakers.
Earlier this week, your sleepless chef was put in what is perhaps the most scathingly awkward situations the modern woman can find herself in– making a phone call to a date prospect.
You see, beneath the cool, professional, and socially competent veneer the Insomnibaker puts on during the day, beats the gawky, stammering heart of a Fourth Grade Nothing. And despite my Christina Hendricks-with-a-dye-job looks, she’s been single for a while. When working as a theater producer and not-for-profit event planner, I had next to no trouble meeting people with which to get bombed and grab pizza with. My current work environment tends to seethe less with arts-related hormones and rather seethes with aging scientists with multiple PhD’s, and is therefore less of a breeding-ground for nights of boozy bacchanalia. This is in every way a positive thing, but it does make for fewer romantic prospects. So, I am doing what so many nearly-30 vivacious ladies have done before me, and “putting myself out there”.
But phone calls to boyzzzz have always Freaked Me the Fuck Out, so today’s adapted recipe will be the Chocolate AwkwardCake, adapted for the emotionally stunted chef who gripped with fear at even the slightest hint that someone might be attracted to him/her. It’s actually called the “Chocolate Idiot Cake“, because it’s something even an idiot can make. WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT, DAVID LEIBOVITZ.
- I’ve screwed around with the quantities a bit, because I wanted to make “this cake and a little bit more”, so that I could make a big cake for my work event tomorrow, and a tiny cake just for my roommate and I.
- I preheated the oven to 350 degrees, because that is what Domestic Goddesses Who Go On Dates do.
- I poured a 12 ounce bag of bittersweet Baker’s chocolate chunks into a medium sized bowl, along with a huge hunk (16 tablespoons) of Organic Valley Cultured Pricey Butter.
- Does the Pricey Butter make a difference in the taste, you may ask? I have no fucking idea, I may answer, but it makes me feel good about myself.
- I microwaved the butter and chocolate for about a minute, stirring every 20 seconds or so. Hooray for chocolate and butter.
- In another, equally medium-sized bowl, I whisked together 6 eggs and 1 1/4 cup sugar.
- I poured the chocolate mixture into the egg-sugar mixture . . . and then I mixed them.
- So far, this recipe does seem to be somewhat idiot-proof.
- The recipe calls for a 9-inch springform pan, buttered and delicately dusted with cocoa. Well, some of us don’t have a springform pan, Mr. Fancypants. So I took a 9-inch pie pan, which I lined inelegantly with parchment paper, and a tart pan which I lined even more inelegantly with parchment paper.
- Inner monologue: “What kind of person can’t even line a pie pan with parchment paper? The type of people too awkward to go on Dates.”
- I put the pie pan into a larger pan that didn’t really fit, and filled that up about halfway with water, put foil over both pans, and slid the whole wobbly mess into the oven.
- The cake takes an hour and 15 minutes to bake (though my smaller cake took only 45 minutes), which is enough time for another episode of Friday Night Lights. I’m experimenting with this series. I dig the shaky-cam documentary camera work, and most of the acting is terrific. However, nearly every character seems in constant danger of not living up to their full potential. When anyone appears to have an attach of mediocrity, whatever character is standing nearby will deliver a 10 minute diatribe on how the world “can’t see what I see”. Frankly, I can’t see it either, but I’m glad the characters in the show seem to be so supportive of one another.
- When they’re not retaliating against one another with baseball bats.
- After 45-minutes, my little tart pan cake was puffy and set. This one was puffier than expected, but it also wasn’t baked in a water bath.
Verdict: Not bad, not bad at all. I do wish I had an actual springform pan. You may observe the thick coating of buttery goodness on the knife in the above picture. This is as delicious as it looks. In the small pan, the cake puffed up quite a bit, and the edges had a wonderful burnt-sugar taste to them.
In the pie pan, I do wish that I had secured the foil more . . er . . . securely. It looks like the cake bakes very densely with it on, and puffs up (from the eggs) when uncovered. However, it looks absolutely gorgeous, and may benefit from a little chocolate glaze tomorrow (if I should feel so inclined). Either way, I feel like I’ve made something decent enough to bring to work tomorrow. Hurrah for the Idiot Cake!
Now, if only Grown Up Dates were as idiot-proof, maybe I wouldn’t need to bake at night s’damn much.