Triple-Layer Trilogy part 3: Brooklyn Blackout Cake

Well, well, well. It’s been almost three weeks since I posted the second part of this triology; probably the time it has taken me to finish the Steig Larsson trilogy in the two hours a day I merrily spend with my Kindle on my commute.

Time seems to move at a different speed in London to Bristol or Newcastle; time seems much more precious, and I seem to have become worse at making the most of it. I hope that will change (at least a little) when I get the iPad I pre-ordered last week.

This was a HUGE splurge for me; I can’t remember the last time I spent that much cash in one go, but as I got a little money from a relative recently, I felt like I deserved a treat . I’m particularly delighted that this treat one which means I can blog, read other wonderful blogs, and do all kinds of clever things from the comfort of my sofa. In short – hopefully we’ll be seeing more of each other!

Now – on to the most important part; the cake. This was made as a birthday cake for a joint let’s-all-crash-at-my-little-flat reunion and birthday celebration for two of my very good friends from university. For the first time in well over a year, we came together to drink too much booze, dance like we were 19 again to hopelessly cheesy music, and, importantly, eat.

I wanted to make an unashamedly calorific, insanely indulgent, enormous cake. Naturally, my first port of call was the Hummingbird Bakery Cookbook, and a recipe I’d been eyeing up for a very long time – ever since I saw these two glorious words:

chocolate custard

Who can argue with chocolate custard used as frosting? Really, who?

The cake wasn’t the best chocolate cake I’ve made – I like my chocolate cakes to use real dark chocolate, rather than just cocoa powder, otherwise it just doesn’t pack the punch. But the chocolate custard. Oh, MAN.

It’s pretty much what I’d bathe in if I was Willy Wonka. Which is why it’s the only part of the recipe I’m blogging. It also sort of reminds me of a particular pudding I used to eat in primary school. Which I’m not sure is a good or bad thing. But either way, I loved it. I think it’d be amazing sandwiched between fluffy, thin chocolate biscuits, or macarons, piped into the centre of cupcakes, or, if you’re anything like me, eaten directly from the bowl. With a wooden spoon. Or your face.

Chocolate Custard

(Makes enough to cover two triple layer cakes. With plenty left for dinner.)

Ingredients

• 500g caster sugar
• 1 tbsp golden syrup
• 125g cocoa powder
• 200g cornflour
• 85g unsalted butter, cubed
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Method

1. Put the sugar, golden syrup, cocoa powder and 600ml water into a large saucepan and bring to the boil ovr a medium head, whisking as you go.
2. Mix the cornflour with 120-200ml water, whisking as you add it.
3. Whisk gradually nito the cocoa mixture in the pan over a medium high. Bring back to the boil, whisking constantly.
4. Cook, whisking all the time, for a few minutes until thick. Decant into a bowl, cover with clingfilm and chill until firm.

Custard tart and mini baked lemon custard pots

If you caught my last post on the kindness of strangers, you may remember that – before a remarkable series of events took place – it was originally destined to be about custard tarts.

I just couldn’t not share these beauties with you.

The custard tart was one of the bakes on my Bake List  – though I’ve probably already mentally added about 30 things and removed others by this stage. It’s something I’ve loved to eat since I was a little girl, but had never made myself.

I often used to visit an old lady called Dora after school while my mam was at work. She’d tell me stories and ask me to tell her everything I’d learned at school, cosied up by the fire. Thinking back, she was a little like a surrogate grandma.  I distinctly remember that we’d almost always eat the same things; tinned salmon sandwiches with freshly-cut bread and gorgeous homemade chips, followed by a cup of tea and a custard tart. It was one of my favourite meals, though I have a sneaking suspicion the custard tart was the bit I loved the most…some things never change!

The tart recipe is by BBC good food, and my mini baked lemon custards came about by accident. Though the tart recipe stated to use a deep sandwich tin, I worried mine wasn’t going to be big enough, so used my pastry in instead. That, in hindsight, was an error. I ended up with quite a bit of spare custard, and the ratio of custard to pastry in the final tart wasn’t great once it’d shrunk when baked.

However, it’s an error I’m very glad I made, as it meant I stumbled across these gorgeous custard pots. I’m not going to lie. I’m a little bit in love with them. They’re as smooth as a pannacotta, with the sweetness of custard, and a delightful zing from the lemon. They really are a dinky little pot of heaven, and the real triumph of  my baking session.

Custard Tart

For the shortcrust pastry

Ingredients

• 250g plain flour
• 125g butter
• 1 egg
• 1tbsp water
• Fresh nutmeg, grated

Method

1. Blitz the flour and butter in a food processor for about 30 seconds. Add 2/3 of the egg to until the pastry starts to form a ball.
2. Remove from the processor and form a ball. Roll out until the pastry is about 3 cm thick, then grate over some fresh nutmeg. Fold it in half,  wrap in clingfilm, and pop it in the fridge for 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees/180 degrees fan oven.
3. Remove pastry  from the fridge, roll it out to the size of your pastry tin, trim the edges, and blind bake for 20 minutes. Remove your baking beans/rice/whatever you’re using, and bake for another 10 minutes.

For the custard

Ingredients

• 4 large eggs
• 140g golden caster sugar
• 300ml double cream
• 300ml whole milk
• 1 vanilla pod, seeds scraped out, or a few drops of vanilla extract

Method

1. Crucial – turn your oven down to 150 degrees/130 degrees fan oven.
2. Whisk your eggs and sugar together in a large bowl.
3. Put the cream, vanilla, and milk into a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Pour on to the eggs, whisking throughout, and if you’re using vanilla pods, sieve into a jug.
4. Pour the custard up to the top of your pastry case, and grate over a good helping of nutmeg. You’ll probably have some custard spare – cue gorgeous custard pots!
5. Bake for one hour in the centre of the oven. When it’s done you’ll have a little wobble left in the custard.

Baked lemon custard pots

1. Make your custard as above. Depending on how much custard you have left – I had enough to fill four ramekins, – add some lemon zest and juice. If you make the whole batch for custard pots (which next time I might), I’d add about half a lemon.
2. Squeeze a little lemon juice into each ramekin, and stir. Grate over your nutmeg and lemon zest, and bake for 25-30 minutes in a bain marie until set with only a tiny wobble.