Cake 6: Hazelnut

Last February, I had a chance to make several visits to Dilettantes, a chocolate shop and dessert restaurant on Capitol Hill in Seattle. At least once when I was there, I got what they called a Japonaise. Usually, Japonaise refers to layers of buttercream sandwiched between discs of meringue. However, their Japonaise included a nut cake and dacquoise (nut meringue) sandwiched with buttercream. That is the cake I tried to recreate or reinvent in this installment.

I was also influenced by the Julia Child-Martha Stewart wedding cake in (the marvelous) Baking with Julia. It’s a dense almond cake with a rum buttercream and almond dacquoise between the layers. I chose to make my cake with hazelnuts, because it is the most delicious nut, and the most beloved of my roommates. For the cake, I used another recipe from Baking With Julia, the Hazelnut Baby Loaves, making whatever odd ratio of the recipe that I determined would make one stout 8-inch layer. I think I added some extra hazelnuts, too.

For the dacquoise, I simply substituted hazelnuts for almonds in the wedding cake recipe. I made three egg whites worth since I was using three yolks in the frosting. The recipe says to bake the meringues for seven hours. As mine were somewhat smaller, I figured it wouldn’t take nearly that long. But I really should have baked them for longer. I like my meringues on step shy of completely dry, so that there’s a bit of a chewy exterior. But for the disc, I really wanted a totally light and crisp layer. That I did not get. I also had trouble getting the disc off the sheet (which probably would have been easier had I baked it more) since I don’t use parchment paper.

In the end, the fragmented and chewy layer seemed to just meld into the layers of buttercream on either side. It wasn’t exactly the fantasy of contrasting textures I had imagined, but it was just fine. The buttercream itself was perfect—a custard made from milk that had been boiled and steeped with hazelnuts combined with soft butter. I didn’t use the full amount of butter from the recipe (substituting hazelnuts for the pistachios here), but rather stopped when I got to the point where I thought it tasted right. I probably used about 2/3 of the specified amount (this tends to be how much I use for most recipes).

The hazelnut taste was strong in each aspect, but not overwhelming. This is definitely a cake I will try again, with a few changes. I might want to strain the milk for the frosting once the hazelnut flavor has steeped for a smoother frosting, and of course next time I’ll go for a crisper meringue.

Cake 5: Dobostorte

I’m a bit behind on my cake making, but should get back on track in the next week. We’re up to Cake Number 5—I’ve begun to make half cakes in order to ensure they’re all eaten before the next cake is baked. So here is my splendid, seven-layer, half-a-dobostorte.

Dobostorte was always a mythical cake to me; something my mother learned how to make from a woman who had had four heart attacks. But now seemed as good a time as any to give it a try. It’s seven layers of white cake sandwiched with a rich chocolate cream, and topped with a layer of caramel.

I used a recipe from epicurious to make the filling. It consists to beaten egg yolks, a sugar syrup, butter, and chocolate. I’d never before made an icing like this, and I found that it yielded a much softer, creamier buttercream than egg whites do. I didn’t add quite the full amount of butter either, stopping when I felt the cream was just beginning to taste buttery. In my mind, the focus should be chocolate, not butter, and though I want the richness of butter, it shouldn’t be the main flavor.

I wasn’t quite as happy with the cake. I used the recipe form the Time Life Cooking of the Austrian Empire book, but I found the layers were too thin. I think dobostorte should be an impressive, towering cake—you feel a little cheated when your seven layers only give you a couple of inches. The layers weren’t leavened at all, not by baking powder or by beaten eggs; rather, the batter was like a sugar cookie dough. I spread the batter into 8” circles on a baking pan (expect for the last one, which was an 8” semi circle, to yield the requisite 7 layers). They came out more as thin, slightly crisp cookie-like layers, only about an eighth to a quarter of an inch thick, when I was hoping for around three-quarters.

The layers are assembled with the chocolate cream sandwiched in between, but the top layer is first glazed with caramel. I was a bit late in marking the cake into wedges while the caramel was still soft, so it tended to crack when the cake was cut. The top layer, being less flexible than the others, also tended to separate when you bit into the cake, but the flavors were perfect. Even the crispness of the layers worked well, though I would have preferred something a little lighter of offset the richness of the cream. Next time, I’ll try using the epicurious recipe for the cake as well.