In a Fit of Lunacy

It always starts so innocently - in this case, with a pint of strawberries just too perfectly red and ripe to pass up. The madness escalated with the discovery of a soft, fluffy goat cheese from a local farm. I tried these together, and they made a marvelous snack. Marvelous, but not perfect.

I craved crunchy, and no mere cracker or cookie would do. Chocolate, that would be the ticket, and crispy, but not too sweet, and...

Biscotti!

Now that's lunacy. Long-time readers know I'm no pastry chef. Not being able to taste and adjust at the last minute freaks me right out. But I was determined, and Chef Google pointed me to this double chocolate biscotti.

The Ingredients

• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 2/3 cup white sugar 
• 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder 
• 2 teaspoons baking powder 
• 2 eggs 
• 1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour 
• 4 (1 ounce) squares white chocolate, chopped 
• 3/4 cup semisweet chocolate chips 

All of which I happen to keep around pretty much all the time.

Except white chocolate, which, let's be honest, wouldn't survive an hour under my roof.

My baking paranoia makes me pretty disciplined about following the instructions on these things. Plus, twice-baked fancy European cookies? That's a frighteningly more complex project than I've ever tackled. 

Anyway, butter and sugar, into KitchenAid the Great.

Looks "light and fluffy to me"

Next came the cocoa powder, which y'all may be aware has a fine, fairy-dust like consistency. Which in turn led to a choking cloud of chocolate despite my care in adding it to the bowl. In short, I recommend a drywall mask.

At this point I should also note I was sorely tempted just to scuttle this whole idea and spread that chocolate-sugar-butter wonder on some toast. Cuz I'm classy like that. Instead I threw in the baking powder right quick, thus committing myself to the follow-through.

This, I figured, would be the only sucky part: stirring in the flour by hand. And yeah, it sucked...

Turns out Teflon spoons are super-bendy

Until I remembered I bought a dough cutter in a previous fit of lunacy involving biscuits. (Sensing the theme here?)

Muuuuch better!

Here's where the "double" part of double chocolate goes in (and I pedantically reflect on how it should really be "triple" chocolate if you add the white...)

Oh for Pete's sake just cook, woman.

Things got intense for a while, as I mixed in these chips and then rolled the dough into logs.

I imagine this part would offer a stellar opportunity for a brave mom to involve her kids in the process, because Play Dough isn't the only dough awesome for playing. And it ain't like my grownup self didn't slop chocolate all over half the kitchen and up to my elbows. 

It was messy, is what I'm saying. But here's what I ended up with, popped in the fridge to chill for 10 minutes.

Chocolate logs. Snicker.

Note: I greased the cookie sheet with butter, because fuck Crisco. Gross. I was admittedly worried I'd have to wrestle these free, but that didn't come to pass. After 25 minutes at 375, behold...

Chocolate, speed bumps, I guess?

After cooling for an hour, I sliced 'em up like... like... Okay every metaphor in my mind right now is terrifying. Moving on.

Like this

Then back onto the cookie sheet to bake at 325, for 9 minutes on each side.

Flipping these was like finger-wrestling Satan. They were hot, is what I'm saying.

When it was all said and done I ended up with what looked remarkably like a biscotti. (I know, every Italian mother in America just gasped in horror. I beg forgiveness and offer tribute.)

Crispy, chocolatey tribute.

Despite being a Herculean feat of delayed gratification (all told the project took three hours from emptying the cupboards to boxing up the cookies), it was so totally worth it.

Maybe I'm feeling loony enough to try biscuits again...

---

Devilishly delicious birthday

This is a special weekend for us. We celebrate Doug's birthday of course. But we also reflect on the night twelve (OMG, TWELVE) years ago, when we first met. The night I crashed -- that's right, crashed -- his twenty-[censored] birthday party.

Mind you, that story sounds a lot more romantic when he tells it: "she showed up on my doorstep." Awww... Whether you're grinning or gagging right now, you're probably feeling the right thing.

At the start of last week, his story was, he didn't want a birthday cake. Say what?! I would be super depressed if I didn't have a birthday cake. I insisted. He relented. "How about something chocolate?" Speak to me, baby. The language of love.

Devil's food. I could get behind that. It would mark my first foray into the world of Baker's chocolate. It would press me and the KitchenAid to our greatest challenge yet. It would be scary. It would be messy. It would be epic.

So I got myself a recipe, consulting with Chef Google, and I got to myself to work making the magic.

NOTE: By "making the magic," I naturally mean, "obsessively following the directions." Which means I don't have much to say about the process -- the recipe's author did a bang-up job of that. Why re-invent the devil's food cake, you know?

But I couldn't resist the lure of visual proof...

Print recipe, stick to cupboard

Grease & flour trusty cake pan

Boil some water

Melt butter with chocolate

Cool, drool

Measure sugar, crack eggs

Cream eggs and sugar, worship mixer

Sift dry ingredients

 Add chocolate, make mess...

...of pot

...of self

...of mixer

...of counter

...even of the freakin floor!

Add water, end up with this

NOTE #2: After I'd slung chocolate over half the kitchen, I realized, better I should put down the camera and focus on getting the dry ingredients into the bowl. Wisdom.

Add milk/vinegar mixture. Hey neato! It fizzes!

Pour into pan

Don't waste a drop

NOTE #3: Thanks, babe, for using valuable birthday time to take some chocolate action photos.

Pop into oven, take well earned break

Cool

Frost

Gobble

Devil's food cake from scratch, bitches. I don't even feel bad about gloating. Well I take that back. It was Doug's day after all. But I absolutely don't feel bad about eating cake for breakfast today. Again.

Scary? A little. Messy? A lot. Complicated? Kinda. But you know what? I wouldn't call it difficult.

I would call it delicious. And totally worth it.

---

Spoiled. Rotten.

Not food, mercifully! Just lil ol me. For my sweet, thoughtful momma has hooked me up with the ultimate home-cooking luxury...

Behold!

I have wanted one of these badboys for probably 15 years. It's something I doubt I would ever have bought for myself. Courtney was writing about hers not long before Christmas, and I guess I got to raving about it when I was home for the holidays.

I'd totally forgotten that conversation until my phone rang, about midnight last Sunday. I ran to grab it, because shit man. A call at that hour usually means somebody's either hurt or needs bail money. Not this time!

MOM: Honey, can you turn on QVC?

ME: Uh, hang on. Doug's watching the basketball. I may have to negotiate.

MOM: Tell him Momma says this is important!

(Negotiations ensue.)

ME: Ok, I have it on... Wait... Are you kidding me...?

(Mixers gleam in the studio lights, like heaven on a counter top.)

MOM: Are those the mixers you were talking about?

ME: (dreamily) Yeah...

I've used the phrase blown away before, but never was it more appropriate. She put the smackdown all my, "Honestly, Mom, I really don't need it," objections, even though they were true. I've gotten along a-okay all these years, but OMG I sure did want one. And now it has arrived. I feel extremely, unspeakably grateful.

So! Let the baking commence! I am celebrating with a project right out of the owner's manual: Quick Yellow Cake.

I will never mess with Duncan Hines again.

When Doug got home, he got to use it too, for his legendary homemade frosting. The recipe comes from the Hershey's cocoa box:

Chocolate Buttercream Frosting

• 1 stick butter
• 2/3 cup unsweetened cocoa
• 3 cups powdered sugar
• 1/3 cup milk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

The box says melt the butter, but he has better results just bringing it to room temperature. Stir in the cocoa, then alternately add powdered sugar and milk, beating to spreading consistency. Add a small amount of additional milk, if it gets too thick. Stir in vanilla. Makes about 2 cups. 

Also? I had to run out and buy vanilla ice cream. I mean, obviously.

You'd never know it's not my birthday.

At risk of gushing past the point of appropriateness, I wanted to throw this in too. See, when the UPS guy delivered the mixer, he brought two boxes to the door. I assumed the smaller one was the mixer's cover. Oh but no!

Surprise! I told you. Spoiled. Rotten.

I've also never had a proper tea kettle before. Since my college days in the dorms, I've used a Pyrex measuring cup to boil my water in the microwave. I feel so fancy now!

Thank you, Mom.