The Last Recipe

There is something immensely appealing about the making the last recipe in a cookbook. Don't ask me why, but I got a little giddy seeing that I was making the last recipe in Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  The occasion was our Julie/Julia dinner party and I was in charge of dessert.  Because I had not seen the movie I was at a bit of a loss for what to make.  

My boss actually gave me the idea to make this cake.  She just randomly mentioned her daughter making a cake that Julia makes in the movies where you press nuts in to the side of the cake. That's all I had to go on. So I read the the cake section (5 basic cakes takes up about 25 pages) and decided that Reine de Saba was the cake in question.

Nowhere does Julia Child tell you why it is named after the Queen of Sheba, but she does think of it is as a quintessential French Cake.  Me?  I'll just refer to it as chocolate and almond cake. I'll also refer to it as one of my favourite chocolate cakes ever.

Chocolate cake can come in many forms - uber moist, dense and flourless, simply chalky or dry, and sometimes perfectly lovely.  This one falls in the last category. Only a hint of almond touches the slightly creamy but rich texture. With ground almonds and whipped egg whites competing between grounding the cake and making it soar, it really lands somewhere in between in an earthly heaven made of chocolate.

The cake itself isn't the last recipe in the book, it is the chocolate butter icing. Officially, this might be my new favourite icing.  It isn't sweet or terribly rich.  Good butter makes this icing because all it really is is melted chocolate with butter whipped in.  Not much fancier than that. Of course, the recipe makes it seem a lot fancier, but don't be fooled. And don't get lost in the instructions.

You should also not be fooled by the small amount of icing the recipe makes.  It seems like such a paltry amount, but it covers the cake and is a perfect compliment to the cake.  Next time I might use that last recipe as a filling, or a crumb coat on a cake I cover with ganache. Or, I'll just follow the recipe again and make The Queen of Sheba as intended.

Cake decorating is not my forte. I sincerely hope that my girls NEVER ask for a themed cake because it will be a sad, sad birthday for them. I can, however, hold a cake and press ground almonds in to the side.  That is not difficult at all, but worth the mess. I strongly recommend that you do not skip this step.

If I drank espresso it would have been a nice accompaniment.  My mind went to scotch. But after more than a few glasses of wine that night, all I could think about was whether it would be rude or not to take one of the last pieces and skip making my souffle.  Alas, Pierre and Gail's husband made the decision for me.  The souffle was good, but I am still thinking about the cake. I just might open the book to the last page and make it again for Christmas dinner.

At Julie's house for Julie/Julia

Eating in a room full of food bloggers and writers is almost as bad as eating dinner with toddlers, except the conversation is far better.  In the interest of the blog, the en mass photography when five bloggers gather for an impressive dinner is somewhat insane.  Sorry, there were only 4 photographers and 1 illustrator at our Julie/Julia themed dinner party on Sunday. Pierre stood back, secretly laughing I think, while the rest of us pushed buttons and tried to make adjustments for the fact that it was close to 7pm when we started eating, er... photographing.

It's a good thing that our vichyssoise was being served chilled.

The occasion of our gathering was ostensibly to celebrate the release of the Julie/Julia DVD today.  In reality, Julie invited us all together to meet, cook, chat, and celebrate. Most of us knew at least one other person there, and I think Julie knew everyone. (She really does know everyone.) Gwendolyn from Patent and the Pantry, Gail from The Pink Peppercorn and her sax playing husband, Pierre of Kitchen Scraps fame with his love, and then Hubby and myself all descended upon Julie with an abundance of butter, cream, wine, and our best stories.

Our instructions were simple: make something from Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  We each volunteered a course/dish. There was the vichyssoise from Gwendolyn, surprisingly (to me) rich and actually quite refreshing even though it was minus a billion outside. For dinner itself Julie made Boeuf Bourguignon. Pierre made Ratatouile and the most amazing potatoes ever. Gail spent two days in the kitchen to make a Moussaka unlike anything I've ever had in a neighbourhood Greek joint.  Two days! Oh, and I made Reine de Saba and a souffle but I'll save the details for another day.

To start the night we toasted new friendships with French cider and bubbly.  And we watched old episodes of The French Chef.  Correction, we had it on the TV but were too busy talking. That theme continued for the night.  We were so damn eager at the beginning of the night, dutifully taking photos. Then we sat down to eat.  And drink. And talk.  So there might be one blurry shot of the souffle that Gwendolyn and I made together.

Aside from our critiques and comments about the books, cookbook, and movie (enough about Meryl already and how long exactly should I simmer for?) we talked and laughed.  I'm not telling secrets, but I do know about some tidbits about mascots, child actors, and degrees in sex.  But I'm not talking. In fact, I think I might still be digesting.

History and Inspiration

Brownsville, Halifax, Brooklyn, Austin, Manhattan, Brandon, New Orleans, and Phoenix.

Bread, soup, potatoes, chocolate, cupcakes, cookies, BBQ, smoking, tarts, seafood, and berries.

Chinese, Arab, Cretan, Italian, Thai, Caribbean, Spanish, Ukrainian, Cuban, and French.

We were cleaning out our teak hutch on the weekend in order to put new legs on it. Hubby emptied the contents - all my cookbooks - on the dining room table. In theory that would be a good time to review and purge. In theory. Instead, I reviewed and reminded myself of some enjoyable reads, vacations, and inspiring recipes that have never been tried.

My collection of cookbooks includes souvenirs from cities visited (both by us and others), gifts from speaking engagements, birthday and Christmas presents, impulse buys from the grocery store and one of my favourite stores, and a growing assortment of community cookbooks. I am one of those weird people who actually reads cookbooks. I try to stay away from celebrity cookbooks, but that is getting harder and harder. Hence the growing collection of community cookbooks. My collection serves as a history of where I've been and want to go - in the world and in my cooking.

Don't get me started on my magazines...