CL's Classic Fudge Brownies

I wasn't planning on posting today.  I was actually planning to bust this out tomorrow.  But then I realized that only a bad person posts about fudgy, chocolaty, dense, gooey goodness on Ash Wednesday.  Cool people, on the other hand, blog about it on Fat Tuesday, aka Mardi Gras, aka this day used to mean a chocolate waterfall and bananas fosters in the dining hall and I really miss that.  As it is, my Mardi Gras celebration is looking like a sandwich after some exercising after work.  Don't say I don't lead an exciting life.  Maybe I'll steal some of the chocolate I bought Ben for Valentine's day that he left here... just don't tell him.

The background story here is that this recipe won Cooking Light's Best Chocolate Recipe Ever contest, as seen in their January 2012 issue.  That is 25 years of chocolate recipes my friends, and this here, this was number one.  Those are quite the accolades, and for the most part, it lived up to expectations.  They were intensely chocolaty.  They somehow straddled the line between being immensely dense and gooey, yet somehow ridiculously crumbly.  It probably needed more time to cool in the pan, but this was Valentine's day dessert and dinner was over and we have no patience.  I attempted to cut them into squares and it was a complete failure.  So instead, we ended up fork-fighting over the pan, jabbing dangerously close to each other's fingers to claim clumps of fudgy brownie for ourselves.  And each bite was delicious.

The next morning, once they had cooled, what was left of the brownies cut a little better and maintained their shape, somewhat.  The chunks of dark chocolate were heavenly, extremely hot just out of the oven, but creamy once cooled.  This is where you need to break out some good chocolate, because it is worth it.  Especially if you're giving up chocolate for lent.  Which, in case you forgot, begins tomorrow.

However, despite all my chocolate haze induced praises, I'm not quite sure if they are big green cookbook worthy.  They crumbled a lot, a lot.  Although, the original recipe called for a metal 9x9 pan, which I don't own, so I went with glass and increased the time and temperature, which may have contributed to the crumbliness.  Also, the recipe called for walnuts.  I am a firm believe in the mantra that nuts do not belong in brownies, so I omitted them and you can judge me if you must.  And finally, CL did it's clever little trick to make these brownies healthy.  They call for 20, TWENTY, servings out of a 9x9 pan.  It's like when Pepsi gives you a bottle with 2.5 servings in it.  You know you're drinking the whole thing, don't lie to me.  Just give it to me straight.  Don't expect to get 20 servings out of these, or rather, don't expect to eat only 1 of their servings.  But then remember that today is Fat Tuesday, and that Fat is in the name, and demolishing a pan of brownies is basically to be expected...

CL's Classic Fudge Brownies
Winner in the January 2012 issue

3/4 c. all-purpose flour
1 c. granulated sugar
1/2 c. brown sugar
3/4 c. unsweetened cocoa
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
6 oz bittersweet chocolate, divided
1/3 c. 1% milk
6 Tbsp. butter, melted
1 tsp. vanillas extract
2 large eggs, beaten

Preheat oven to 350°F.  Spray 9x9 metal baking pan with cooking spray.

In large bowl, mix flour, sugars, cocoa, baking powder and salt.  Chop 3 oz. of chocolate into small chunks.  Toss in flour mixture.  Set aside.  Combine remaining  3 oz of chopped chocolate and milk in small microwave bowl.  Microwave in small bursts of 30 seconds, stirring in between, until chocolate is melted and smooth.  Add melted butter, vanilla and beaten eggs.  Beat well.  Pour into flour mixture and stir until just combined.

Pour batter into prepared pan.  Put into 350°F oven and bake 25-30 minutes.  Brownies are done when a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out with only a few crumbs clinging.  Cool (if you can wait!) in the pan.  Cut into 20 pieces (ha!).  Eat at least 12.  Enjoy!

Dark Chocolate Tart

I was going to keep giving you cookie recipes from my cookie baking bonanza, until I was hit with an epiphany Wednesday at work around lunch time.  It went something like this: "oh my god.  The chocolate tart".   And then I proceeded to feel guilty the rest of the day because, well, the chocolate tart.  I forgot to write and tell you about the chocolate tart.

It was going to be my birthday cake when I was home in November, but got bumped back to Thanksgiving when I found an incredibly recipe for cinnamon roll cheese cake, and begged my mom to make that for me instead.  See, I wanted to make the chocolate tart myself, bask in the glory of it's deliciousness, take all the credit for it and then post it on here.  It was that last part that I sort of, kinda, just until this Wednesday, forgot. And I am so sorry, because this tart is a chocolate orgy in your mouth, in the absolute best way possible.

If you do not love chocolate, this is not for you.  But if you can't help but order the chocolate lava cake whenever it appears on a menu anywhere, even though you know it'll probably just disappoint you, you have found the one.  It is thick, dense and fudgey, yet the top kind of gets crackly almost like a brownie.  You're basically eating solid, silky chocolate in a gingersnap crust, and let me tell you, it doesn't get better than that.  This tart is so good that when I realized that the slice I took on the plane with me to let Ben "try" got lost, never to be found, I almost cried.  Real tears.  It's just that good.

And I know that this is the day before diets and cleanses and all other manners of trying to purge holiday weight begin.  And I know that I've been holding out on you since Thanksgiving with the perfection that is this tart.  And I apologize.  But look at it this way, what better way is there to end this season of gluttony then to enjoy a slice of pure chocolate heaven while forgetting for those moments the fact that tomorrow you'll eat nothing but egg whites, carrot sticks and water?  Right?  Right!

Whatever rationalization you need to tell yourself to get this tart into your oven, onto a plate and into your mouth, I promise, it'll be worth it.  And then just resolve tonight that you'll be better tomorrow...

 Happy New Year!!!

Dark Chocolate Tart
The smitten kitchen strikes again!

As a head's up, my pictures do not do this tart justice.  It is pretty and even if your's doesn't come out picture perfect, frankly once people have tasted it, they won't give a crap.  We did gussie ours up with some fresh cranberries and whip creme, but of course, there are no pictures of that...

Also, our was a hodgepdoge of chocolate.  There were a few ounces of German chocolate thrown in there, some Ghirardelli dark chocolate chips and a few ounces of Baker's unsweetened.  And it all came together beautiful.  For the crumb crust, I had to use more butter and next time I won't pulverize the gingersnaps (homemade by my momma, of course) as finely.  Maybe that'll help with the crumbliness.

1 2/3 c. gingersnap cookie crumbs
l/4 c. melted butter (I had to use more)

12 oz. bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1 c. heavy whipping cream
2 large egg yolks (save the whites for meringues!  yum)
1 large egg
1/4 c. granulated sugar
1 Tbsp. flour
1/8 tsp. fine ground black pepper
Large pinch of kosher salt
1/2 tsp. cinnamon

Preheat oven to 325°F.  Chop and whir gingersnap cookies in food processor until you have enough.  Add melted butter and pulse a few times until mixture comes together.  Press into 9-inch tart pan with removable bottom.  Firmly press onto bottom and up sides of pan, using a coffee cup or straight-walled measuring cup to help form the sides.  Place on rimmed baking sheet.

In medium sauce pan over low heat, combine chocolate and cream.  Whisk until chocolate has melted and mixture is smooth, remove from heat.  In separate bowl, whisk remaining ingredients thoroughly.  In small batches, gradually mix in chocolate and cream mixture into egg mixture, beating well after each addition so chocolate filling is well blended and smooth.  Pour filling (trying not to steal too many taste tries...) into prepared crust.

Bake tart in 325 degree oven until filling puffs slight at the edges and the center is softly set, about 30-32 minutes.  Remove from oven and let cool on wire rack.  After 20 minutes, remove tart pan gently, as the crust will be very crumbly.  Allow tart to completely cool.  Slice and enjoy!

Chocolate Chip Meringues

I went a little crazy on Sunday.  I got in the spirit of Christmas and dived in head first into a day of baking.  I do it every year and in a fit of what I will call holiday cheer, I make cookies.  Lots of cookies.  Usually this results in very happy friends, family and coworkers and one giant mess in my kitchen.  This year held two surprises though.  One, my kitchen was not a mess afterwards.  Flour did not cover my flour, walls and all my counters and somehow dishes only took 20 minutes tops.  I'm still not 100% sure how I managed that, but I chalk that up to me growing up and becoming a mature adult. (ha!)  And secondly, I love meringues.

I don't know what took me so long to come to that realization but by noon on Monday, I had eaten 7.  I'm not proud of this.  I am also, apparently, completely powerless when it comes to meringues.  Or, to put a much less fattening spin on the topic, these meringues are that good.  First off, just look how pretty they are.  All whippy and peaked.  And then you pick one up and they're light as air (which ties into how you can convince yourself that it's ok to eat more than 8 in one day...)  And then you bite into this puff of toasted, stale Peep-like sugary  concoction and I know that doesn't sound delicious, but it is. And the next thing you know, you've put 9 down your gullet and your hankering for number 10.  Damn, I want another one...

They're easy-peasy to make too, which if you're me is the scary part about this.  Now I can have meringues whenever I want.  You just put your KitchenAid on and start whipping the whites, then pour in some salt and vanilla, followed by small additions of sugar.  Once you got your peaks, you get to fold in yummy goodness (aka-mini chocolate chips and chopped cashews) and plop they go onto a cookie sheet, into the oven and 25 minutes later, these come out.  Bam.  One goes into your mouth, followed by two, three and four and then you just resign yourself to the fact that it's officially the holidays and you'll try to be skinny come January... More cookie recipes to come!  I just need to go work out first.  Happy Holidays!

Chocolate Chip Meringues
A la the Smitten Kitchen

The one thing I didn't do was to chop up the mini chocolate chips.  I have already gone back and forth about this in my head.  At the moment, I am liking the fact that they kind of big in there, not just a chocolaty swirl all through.  But that could be a good thing too.  My best solution?  Chop half, leave the other mini chips whole.  Also, if you start thinking about all the other wonderful things you could shove into a meringue, you are not alone.  I want to make batches with peanut chips, toffee bits and that yummy orange stuff inside of Butterfingers, aka Chick-O-Sticks.  If any of it ever happens, I'll let you know.

Also, I did not have any cream of tartar on hand.  You only need 1/8 tsp of it.  Little known fact, baking powder is 1/4 tsp. baking soda and 5/8 cream of tartar.  Tada-  I just subbed in 1/4 tsp. of baking powder and as far as I can tell, it did what it was supposed to.  This will make about 2-3 dozen.

2 egg whites, room temp
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. vanilla
scant 3/4 c. sugar
1/2 c. mini chocolate chips, some chopped if you wish
1/4 c. chopped pecans, or whatever kind of nut you have lying around

Preheat oven to 300°.  Line baking sheet with parchment paper.

In clean mixing bowl, whip egg whites till frothy.  Add salt, baking powder and vanilla, continue to whip until egg whites hold soft peaks.  In small additions, start adding in sugar, letting mixture whip a few seconds in between each addition.  Whip until stiff.  Gently fold in chocolate and nuts.  Spoon batter by rounded tablespoon onto a prepared baking sheet.  Bake in over for 25 minutes, till undersides are lightly tanned and cookies sound hollow.  

Chocolate Mousse

Home.

The problem with being exiled as a nomad for two years after graduation is that home, besides being that place I grew up in Mesa, Arizona, becomes here.  The place where I finished growing up.  The place where, after 4 years and many late night, freezing walks home, I almost figured out how to live in snow.  The place where I met many friends and met the boy.  And, oh yeah, the place where I got my education and engineering degree.  You know, home. 

I'm back on campus for a few days to help out at the career fair and be the best little company representative that I can be.  It's a strange feeling to be back, in the middle of the school week, walking around campus.  Just like while in school, it is almost to easy to forget where you are at.  And then, walking home after an exam, or walking the long way to the dining hall on the other side of campus because your friends hate the one on your side, you look up and see it.  The dome.  And please excuse me if I'm sounding corny or overly nostalgic or annoyingly Notre Dame obsessed, but you see it and you remember that you are home. 

Except now, I'm only a visitor, only here for a few days.  I'm home, but armed with the knowledge that in a day's time, I'll be back to living a life with shallow roots, only returning here for football weekends, drunken reunions and apparently, career fairs.  I'm envious of the kids around me, walking home to their dorm rooms, stressing about the career fair and trying to decide whether or not they are driving up to Michigan this weekend for the first away game of the season.  I am fully aware that college can't last forever, but I would have been ok with it going on another year or so.  The real world is still bumming me out.  Which is why it's so good to be home.

It's also fitting that what I was planning on writing about today, before I got all nostalgic, contemplative and generally whiny, was chocolate mousse.  A dessert I learned to make in the downstairs kitchen of North Dining hall and a dessert that was almost always present at our fancy, postgame candlelight dinners.  Chocolate Mousse.  The Notre Dame chefs put on some cooking classes during the school year.  If you could get a committed group of 10 or 12 students, they would put on one for your club or dorm, free of cost.  A favorite was always the death by chocolate class, which I attended twice and during which you learned to make truffles, the world's best brownies, and always chocolate mousse.  I broke out the recipe two weekends ago when Ben was in the Haute visiting. 

I'm going to let you in on a little secret now: chocolate mousse is easy.  And, when you plate it right, it's also downright impressive and everyone will think it took much more effort than it actually did.  All you need is a pastry tip and a pretty serving glass.  Or, if you're like me, a Ziploc baggy and cheap margarita glasses.  And voilà!  You have just rocked dessert. 

Chocolate Mousse
From the Notre Dame Kitchen

1.5 ounces unsweetened chocolate
1 c. heavy cream
6 Tbsp. granulated sugar (3/8 cup)

Melt chocolate in double broiler.  Remove from heat while a few lumps still remain, and stir until smooth.

In chilled metal bowl, combine cream and sugar.  Mix with electric mixer fitted with a chilled balloon whip(s) on medium speed until soft peaks form.

Take 1/3 of whipped cream and whip thoroughly into melted chocolate.  Fold remaining whipped cream into chocolate mixture, working quickly so chocolate bits don't form in the cream.

Pipe into desired serving dishes and chill for 2 hours, up to overnight.  If not serving soon, store in airtight containers in the refrigerator. 



German Chocolate Bundt Cake

I know I've been a little MIA this last week.  It's been busy, with two long weekends of travel plans, complete with flight cancellations and a holiday vacation home in Arizona.  And all that other time in between, I was either too tired or busy repacking to really bother eating more than cereal for dinner.  Bad, I know, but packed along side my swimsuits and summer dresses were new recipes to try at my parents' house in Arizona.  And I've come back with two new yummy deserts!

One reason for heading home, besides the long holiday weekend, was for my dad's birthday.  So, naturally, my mom roped me into to making his birthday cake.  Which, also quite naturally, was German Chocolate Cake.   Which has been my father's birthday cake for who knows how long.

There was always the old classic Betty Crocker standby recipe.  But I also came armed with three other options.  After consulting the birthday boy, we decided to go with the bundt.  With a small modification, but we'll get to that.  

It was fun  to be cooking in my mom's kitchen again.  There are vast expanses of counter tops, lots of useful tools like pastry cutters, and someone else is buying the ingredients!  And the best part is, I got to cook with my mommy,  looking all cute in our half aprons.

The bundt cake itself came out delicious, with a caramely pecan and coconut layer in the middle, the chocolate cake moist and delicious.  Unfortunately, the original recipe called for a powdered sugar glaze to be poured over top.  Really?  A powdered sugar glaze?  Come on, that's not German Chocolate Cake.  So the orange Betty Crocker was called out of retirement for some German chocolate cake frosting, the recipe (tried and true, but somewhat modified ), I included below.
 

The overall effect was delicious, even after a frosting mishap that ended in a little bit of scrambled egg being strained from the frosting.  I couldn't imagine this cake with something as puny as a powdered sugar glaze, and I wouldn't skimp on the traditional German chocolate frosting.  Oh, and some of the cake stuck to the bundt pan, most likely because we left it to sit too long before flipping it out, which you shouldn't do, but what else is frosting for?

Happy Birthday Dad!

German Chocolate Bundt Cake
Adapted from Cooking Light, via myrecipes.com

For Streusel:
1/4 c. flour
1/2 c. brown sugar
2 Tbsp. chilled butter, cut into small pieces
1/3 c. sweetened, flaked coconut
1/3 c. chopped pecans

For Cake:
Cooking Spray
1 Tbsp. sugar, for dusting
1/2 c. unsweetened cocoa
1 ounce German baking chocolate
1/2 c. boiling water
1 1/2 c. sugar
1/3 c. butter, softened
2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 large egg whites (save the yolks!)
2 c. flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 c. low-fat buttermilk

For Frosting:
1/2 c. sugar
1/2 c. evaporated milk
1/4 c. butter
2 egg yolks
1/2 tsp. vanilla
Sweetened, flaked coconut (~1/2 c.)
Chopped pecans (~1/2 c.)

Preheat oven to 325°.  Coat 12-cup bundt pan with cooking spray, and dust completely with sugar. 

Prepare streusel by combining flour and brown sugar in a small bowl and cutting in butter until mixture resembles coarse meal.  Stir in coconut and pecans.  Set aside.

Combine cocoa and baking chocolate in a small bowl.  Stir in boiling water and mix until chocolate is completely melted.  Set aside.  Combine dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt) in another bowl and whisk together well. 

In mixing bowl, combine sugar and butter at medium speed until creamed.  Add vanilla and egg whites, one at a time, beating well after each addition.   Add flour mixture alternately with the buttermilk, beginning and ending with flour mixture.  Beat well after each addition.  Stir in cocoa mixture.

Spoon half of the batter into bundt pan and distribute evenly.  Sprinkle streusel mixture evenly over top.  Spoon remaining batter over streusel.  Bake at 325 for 55-60 minutes, or until a wooden pick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Cool in pan on wire rack for 10 minutes, then immediately invert onto serving plate.  Cool completely.

For the icing, mix sugar, milk, butter, egg yolks and vanilla in medium sauce pan.  Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until think and carmel-like, about 12 minutes.  Stir in coconut and pecans in equal amounts until desired thickness is achieved.  Beat frosting to a spreading consistency and frost cake.