So, living dangerously, I'm trying again.
Thursday, 24 September 2009
I'm experimenting with chocolate ganache. This is a concoction that makes people very enthusiastic. My first outing with it resulted in a cake which looked, to put it politely, as though it was melting. The creamy ganache coated the cake but had little body, so the cake sat in a milk- meets-chocolate pool. The ganache in the centre of the cake contributed to this unattractive puddle, having abandoned the interior. I was disappointed, as the cake was for a friend's party, and the other food looked very elegant and appetising. I needn't have worried. Apparently the simple anticipation of cake combined with a reputation established with a completely different baked item at a previous shindig drew people to the table. The first taste, by a chocolate lover, sealed the deal. I'd walked away from the table after delivering my shameful offering, returning for a taste five minutes later, driven by greed and the belief that people might not realise I was responsible for the dish, only to be disappointed. The plate was empty, although someone was paying tribute to the ganache by cleaning the plate by finger. Apparently it was delicious.
I'm clearing out the spice collection. Apart from getting depressed at the patina of filth that coats the glass shelves of the cupboards I also can't find anything when I need it. I know, spices are supposed to go off, however I operate a frugal (forgetful) approach and keep them 'til they are used up, hence the oriental style chicken stock that is perfuming the house at the moment and, no doubt, adding to the grease-based patina mentioned before.
And that is patina as in pat in a, none of that pat tina mullarkey, thank you. I'm busy but pedantry is fundamental.