Let Them Eat Cake

I am a big fan of cake – but it has to be great cake…nothing out of a packet or covered in artificially coloured icing for me, oh no! It must be artisan-made or home-baked to sate my tastebuds. I’m fussy about cake, OK?

I am baking a cake tonight, actually. It’s in the oven as I type. And, it’s not just any cake – it’s Chocolate Mousse Cake! This is a cake that conjures up scenes from Like Water for Chocolate and Chocolat (not uncoincidentally!). It is a luscious, rich, seductive cake made with tonnes of Lindt chocolate, nearly a whole carton of eggs, a slab of butter, a whack of sugar and vanilla. It’s baked in a water bath and emerges from the oven with a crusty, sunken top and a molten, moist centre. It is mousse merged with cake and it’s to die for. In fact, I’ve watched people queue at parties for my Chocolate Mousse Cake and one man even told me he believed it was “better than sex”. Anyone who’s ever met a man will realise the superlative nature of that compliment!

This is indeed a very sexy cake. It comes from a Nigella Lawson cookbook – a woman whose lusty baking techniques require no further mention - and I always feel best making it while belting out ‘chick tunes’ to my ipod. Aretha Franklin’s “Respect”; the Dixie Chick’s “Earl”; Carole King’s “You Make Me Feel Like a Nat-U-ral Wom-An”; India Arie’s “Brown Skin" and "Video" - get the picture?

From sex to love. I realised tonight while baking this cake - with its edible batter and a mixing spoon that demands licking – that I must truly love the people I’m making it for. Why? Because I’m on a health kick – I’ve given up sugar and chocolate and wine and pretty much everything I love in the interests of cleansing and reviving this battered body. No, I’m not insane (well maybe a little) but I have gone 'cold turkey' after having had one of those conversion to healthy living moments in the doctor’s surgery that demanded an immediate and wholehearted response. And sure, I feel physically better for all the healthy living but how I miss cake and chocolate and…

So, my point is, I just tenderly melted and mixed and blended my way through this recipe but I couldn’t lick the spoon or scrape the bowl and now I can smell its heady scent wafting through the kitchen, as I blog at the dining table and watch the timer. But when it emerges it will be out of bounds. And tomorrow, when I serve it to my lunch guests, I’ll be denied a mouthful. That’s a definition of selfless love if ever I heard one!

I’m familiar with this definition. I had a Nanna who was a consummate cook but her complicated health problems meant she could never eat anything she baked for us. And she had a way with Melting Moments, Cream Puffs, Strawberry Patch Cheesecake, myriad Italian delicacies... (I could go on but it’s making me miss her and my stomach is protesting). She would sit there and soak up our praise, watching us devour her efforts with a satisfied smile on her face, while she munched on a dry cracker. I know now how much she loved us.

Ooh, there goes the buzzer!

Aftermath: I overcooked the cake. Misjudged the timing. It must have been the impact of denial. So now cake is more more mudcake than mousse. Oh well, that'll teach me to be smug about my baking skills! Maybe it was some subconscious attempt to curtail my lunch guests' enjoyment of the delight I'm denied?

A week later: So, here I am again, late on a Friday night with the Chocolate Mousse Cake in the oven, having yet again sacrificed licking the spoon and scraping the bowl in the interests of aforementioned health kick. This "kick" is really starting to hurt! I just hope tomorrow's lucky lunch guests appreciate my self-sacrifice! Next week's guests can bring their own bloody dessert! :)

Confession: I succumbed to temptation. I had a slice of my cake and I wish I could say I feel guilty and remorseful...but I don't! I savoured every morsel and it was more delicious than I remembered!! How am I going to resist that second piece?