A couple of weeks ago I made a chocolate cake. There is something about chocolate that really calls to the soul–in my case, a great urge for chocolate arose from deep inside my psyche, and that chocolate had to be in a cake format.
This was the first cake I made off of my bed rest–made in a weird state of mind, a mixture of frenzy and awe. I meant to bake a recipe in Saveur’s 100 issue–instead, I impatiently latched onto a recipe on the back of the Droste cocoa box. It was an entirely disorganized process, one that I did not document–and one in which I did not save any documentation. I was distracted, unfamiliar with my kitchen, my mind wandering to and fro…but I was happy to be baking and surrounded by smells and sensations I’d missed.
I used up the rest of the cocoa in the Droste box, and then tossed the recipe in the garbage–leaving me with no recipe to post here. It was a recipe that did not use actual chocolate at all, only the cocoa. Alas, I apologize!
I melted the cocoa in boiling water, and then added buttermilk–I remember standing, mesmerized, at the swirls of buttermilk in the hot cocoa mixture. I was cooking again–it was a strange and new experience to me, even though as you all know, I am a regular cook and baker. Still, at home finally, and mobile again, the concept of baking felt entirely new to me.
The cake seemed very decadent, even before its completion, the chocolate batter dripping slowly off the mixer. I felt impatient, unwilling to wait for this batter to bake into a cake.
But I did wait to eat it until after baking:
I took the rest of the cake to work–where my coworkers finished it all by the end of the day. They said it was fantastic, and the compliments were worth the cake. 🙂 And the return to my kitchen? Priceless.
Happy baking and cooking to you, too!