Sunday, November 25, 2007

Mousstakes


In the interest of full disclosure, I had planned to post about the good, the bad, and the ugly. I did not anticipate that my first attempt would be how NOT to make a chocolate mousse, but so it goes. After all, adventurous cooking is all about taking risks and trying new things and hey, it doesn't always come off without a hitch. I orchestrated a seven course meal for my sister's 26th birthday this evening, observing a japanese theme and aiming for a light, clean feeling after a long weekend full of face-stuffing. The meal was lovely (if I do say so myself) including a house salad with Teagan's carrot ginger dressing and to top it off I imagined a light, fluffy mousse with whipped cream and strawberries using a recipe my mom discovered during a french cooking course. Instead, I created a chunky, thick bitter flop (luckily my family is not overly pretentious and kindly downed the results). My mistakes were in thinking I could substitute unsweetened chocolate for semi-sweet with the addition of only a tablespoon of sugar and, in my anxiety over burning the chocolate, removing it from the heat as a melted, but viscous paste instead of a smoother liquid. If you avoid these mishaps, this recipe is a fabulous addition to your repertoire that is sure to impress and please.

Mousse Au Chocolate
8oz semi-sweet baking chocolate, chopped
4 Tbsp orange juice (or butter)
6 eggs
2 heaping Tbsp sugar

Melt chocolate with OJ over LOW heat, stirring periodically.

Separate 6 eggs. Add pinch of salt to whites and beat until stiff peaks form.

Add sugar to the yolks and beat well. Add chocolate mixture and beat until smooth. Gently fold whites into chocolate mixture. You may feel there is no way this is going to work, but it will. Chill for 1-2 hours and serve with butter cookies or some other sweet to offset the strong chocolate.

Serves 6.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Death by Chocolate


My aunt arrived at my sister's birthday celebration yesterday with this fabulous cake from Gregg's of Providence, RI. The leftovers have been haunting me all day. Six layers of moist, velvety chocolate cake with gooey fudge frosting crammed into every crevice and bittersweet chocolate chips raining down everywhere. Four boys at our table left significant portions of their slice behind but the ladies were sneaking chip-studded crumbs off the platter well past dinner. No deaths were induced this time, but I understand how the attraction could be fatal.